...Rachel was drowning again. Being pulled under the murky water by the unseen spirit of the little girl. She was more angry than Rachel had anticipated. And that miscalculation was costing Rachel her life now.
She saw herself in the distance. Swimming as fast as she could. But not fast enough. Not fast enough to reach her drowning self in time. It was over. She was going to die. It was with a cry of anguish that she was pulled under the water for the final time. She felt her lungs burn to inhale oxygen that didn't exists in the water.
And still, the other Rachel was too far away...
Rachel awoke in her bed with a startled cry. Covered in sweat, she sat up quickly and took several deep breaths to calm herself. Slowly, she was able to and her pounding heart slowed. She took a glance at the clock on the night stand; 4:30 am on the dot. She'd only been asleep for two hours.
The dream again. She knew it would come tonight. After her hethenistic stint, a reminder of her failure and a cruel snap back into the reality that was her life in which she no longer shared with her sister.
Still sitting in bed, she felt her chest constrict almost painfully as a wave of sadness washed over her. Kelly was dead. She hadn't seen her baby sister in months, hadn't spoken to her or laughed with her or stolen her clothes when she'd run out of clean ones or braided her hair because Kelly liked French braids and couldn't do them to herself. None of that.
At that moment, the force of missing her came on so suddenly that Rachel felt it like a fist clenched around her stomach which began to twist painfully. She couldn't help the small moan of anguish that escaped her just before she began to sob, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shook.
Seconds, minuets, hours it seemed went by as Rachel cried. The hurt so immense she thought for a second she'd go mad. She wanted to scream but instead she tried to calm her shaking insides enough to stop crying. The calm came slowly and when she was finally able to, she looked back at the clock and saw that less than 6 minuets had went by.
Puffy and swollen eyed, she pushed herself out of bed and went to the air conditioning vent near the window. Sitting on the floor Indian style in front of it, she let the cool air waif over her heated skin and dry the tears that she still had on her cheeks.
Shutting her eyes, she told herself that it was OK to just not think for a moment as she sat there in the dark in the middle of the night.
Sometimes she felt like her brain and her thoughts were her worst enemy. The constant debating and assault of memories sometimes made her wish for the escape of total oblivion. Freedom from thought, if only for a moment to just be able to relax and not think.
How she was to achieve that she had no idea. Not even sleep offered her rest from the barrage of her hurt and anguish that was her life now. When she slept she dreamt. Dreamt that she was Kelly as she died. Her last sight that of herself swimming in the distance. Exactly what Kelly must have seen just before she drowned.
To another person, one who didn't know the things Rachel did, death would seem like a welcome release. But Rachel's whole life dealt with the fact that consciousness went on after death and sometimes it got violent with things that a person couldn't let go of. She destroyed spirits like that and knew that she presently had the makings of that kind of lost soul.
No. Death held no appeal to her because she knew her suffering would continue on a bigger level, perhaps for ever. She wanted quite the opposite in fact. Living was the only way that she could come to terms with what happened to Kelly. She hoped she'd get there eventually.
And she wanted to resolve all that so that she could be with her father and sister when the time came. Not stuck here to her pain like the monsters she destroyed.
Rachel blinked in surprise. That thought had actually been a hopeful one. She felt a little better already for having thought it so casually. Maybe there was hope for her yet.
She stood up. Her heart still heavy but once again bearable. Looking around with her night vision in full swing she took in the small room and a mild claustrophobia took a hold of her. The rumpled bed she knew held no sleep for her anytime soon and she was almost loathe to get back into it and just stare at the ceiling.
Turning toward the window again, she pulled back the curtain and peered over the parking lot to a line of willow trees not too far away. She knew that they bordered the bank of the small lake that stood on the motel's property.
She glanced at the clock again and decided that a small venture outside wouldn't hurt. She'd stay close to the lights in the parking lot and be back after she got a little air.
Convinced, she turned toward the bed to get her flip flops.
Dean couldn't sleep. He'd been trying for the last 2 hours to no avail. Every time he tried the thought of Rachel's odd behavior kept him guessing as to what could have been wrong. Other thought's contributed to his insomnia as well. Like if she'd had some bad experience at the club that had shaken her up and she didn't want to say anything because she knew he'd kill the guy. He and SAM would kill the guy. He corrected himself.
At the moment he was thinking about Cassie. Why he was thinking about the girl that had almost broken his heart he couldn't say.
Damn it, Dean. He thought. Your only thinking to yourself, it's OK to admit it. She broke it so much you STILL think about it.
She'd rejected him. Called him a liar. When all he did was try to be honest because he cared about her.
The restlessness caught up with him and he felt it in his back which was staring to ache from lying the the same position for 45 minutes now. He kicked the covers off and immediately the frigid temperature in the room assaulted him. Chills making his skin dimple he glanced at Sam, asleep in his own bed with the covers pulled up over his head. Dean cursed at him under his breath for having the AC turned up as far as it could go.
Getting up, he rounded his bed to the vent controls under the window. Squinting in the dark, he tried to see how to lower it up but just couldn't make out the tiny letters.
It was when he pushed the curtain aside to let in some light that he saw her. Rachel, crossing the parking lot in her pajama's. He saw her back as she moved away from him toward the far end of the parking lot to the lawn beyond, but the lamps that lit the lot cast a glow on her slim frame and long hair so that he knew it was her without seeing her face.
Frowning, he watched as she moved beyond the light to the trees that clustered together on the bank of the small lake he'd noticed driving out the other day.
What the Hell was she doing? Did she not realize there was something out there killing girls? Taking their insides? HE doubted she was armed by the look of her cotton PJ pants, black tank top and flip flops.
Straightening up, he let the curtain fall back into place and thought about following her. Something was bothering her and he had to find out what it was. The thought crossed his mind that maybe she was hiding something but he shot it down quickly. What ever was wrong, she looked upset about it, trying to hide something didn't make you cry like she had undoubtedly done before she'd came back from the club by the look of her puffy and swollen eyes.
He stood there in the cold air from the air conditioning in the dark, Sam snoring peacefully in bed behind him and knew that he could just not let her be out there alone. He had to find out if she would look at him.
The perfect excuse to follow her popped into his head suddenly and he turned and opened the night stand draw next to his bed. He rummaged though it until he found what he was looking for. The object in hand, he took one last look at Sam and left him in the igloo he'd created to go out into the night and find Rachel.
Rachel sat comfortably against the roots of the big willow tree, almost encased by the long swaying branches and leaves that hung down. Arms folded on her bended knees, she looked out over the dark water of the lake and it took her back to another lake. Bigger than this one...and haunted.
The stars shone gently on the surface of this unhaunted lake and at the far end Rachel could see part of the 3/4 moon reflected back. Rachel struggled against the tears that threatened to come. She's come here to find peace for a moment and was instead being pulled into memories that hurt so bad she could scream.
She was just started thinking that it would be too hard to stay here and that maybe she should head back when her thoughts were interrupted by a deep, familiar voice.
"If you want, tomorrow I'll make you a sandwich board sign that say's 'come and get me crazy, throat slashing, ovary eating demon.'" Dean Winchester said as she looked up at his when he stepped around the trunk of her willow. "You can wear it to work and strip out of it if you want."
She couldn't help but smile. There he was, in light gray pajama pants, a white T-shirt and bare feet in the grass looking down at her. Her heart gave an involuntary thump of excitement.
"Your right. I just couldn't sleep though." She said and then frowned up at him as the thought occurred to her. "How'd you know I was here?"
"Sam's trying to turn me into and ice cube in that room." He answered as he lowered himself to the ground next to her. "The severe nipple-itis woke me."
She stared at him, confused.
"I didn't think boys got nipple-itis." She said, slightly amused.
"Anything with nipples is susceptible to nipple-itis." He said seriously.
Once again she laughed. Drawn away from her sad thought, she found herself grateful for his unexpected arrival.
"I saw you from the window and figured you wouldn't mind some company." He said.
"I don't mind. I just needed some air." She told him honestly.
"And, I remembered that once you had wanted to see this." He said and handed her a thick, brown leather book with a front snap enclosure. She took it with a frown and was surprised when it was heavier than she would have thought by the size of it.
With wide eyes, she realized what it was just as he began to explain.
"My dad's journal." He said. "You wanted to see it in Toledo and I was too much of a bastard to let you."
"Yeah, I remember." She said with awe as she undid the snap and opened it up to the middle where she saw complex drawings of different symbols. She recognized only one, A Devil's Trap. She couldn't read the writing that accompanied the symbols in the available light but her heart raced with the prospect of being able to study a life long accumulation of knowledge from a hunter as brilliant as John Winchester.
She flipped through a few more pages, aware of Dean watching her fascination as she saw more drawings and sketches and accounts of the strange things his father had dealt with over the years.
"Wow, now I'll never get to sleep." She said as she turned more pages.
"Your dad never kept a journal?" Dean asked.
"No." Rachel said shaking her head. "He was a good hunter, but my mother never let him be as devoted as he wanted to be. He was never able to put his whole heart in it like he wanted to. Like your dad."
They were silent as she continued to scan the jumbled information in the journal. Looking back up at him she saw a that he was very pleased with himself for making her so happy. She tried to ignore it.
"Thank you, Dean." She said quietly. "I promise I'll return it without a scratch."
"Too late. You can't see it in the dark but that things banged up beyond repair already. It's been through a lot." He said.
She chuckled, looking back down at it. "I'm sure it has."
She suddenly remembered the sadness that had threaten to overtake her a few moments ago and realized that it was gone once again in his presence. The thought made her fell relief and guilt in the same emotion.
"What was the matter tonight, Rachel?" He asked.
She looked up, thrown off by the question all she could do was look at what she could see of his eyes. He looked back.
"Why couldn't you look at me tonight?"
She didn't answer. As they looked at one another she tried to measure how much honesty was too much. She absolutely could not tell him that she had fantasized about rubbing her body over his in a hot, slow lapdance and had lost herself in the pleasure of it. But she didn't think part of the truth would be so bad. She took a deep breath.
"Because I was disgusted with myself and I was afraid that you'd see it." She blurted. "You can spot bullshit easily and I was scared to lie and look at you at the same time."
"Why?" He asked never taking his eyes from her.
"I took to stripping a lot better than I ever thought that I would. I'm shocked at myself more than anything. Not to mention imbarrest." She said.
"You liked it?" He asked.
She hesitated to answer and he held her eyes in the silence. She gave in.
"Too much to be healthy." She said.
The look on his face betrayed his thoughts instantly. He clenched his jaw and nit his brow slightly. Rachel was reminded of how she had imagined his features as he watched and felt her dance. He liked the idea of that she enjoyed taking her clothes off.
"Don't feel bad about it," He said, breaking their gaze to look down. "it was bound to happen."
She frowned at him.
"It's not taking your clothes off that makes you feel like that." He explained. "It's the reaction you get from it I bet."
She figured that much out on some level already.
"Your probably right. But still..." She said and looked back down at the book in her hands.
"How did you think it would be?" He asked.
"I'm not sure. I don't think that I was expecting it fully. I didn't think about it too much. I guess I thought that I would just kind of do it and that's it." She said honestly.
"Your right. You didn't think about it then." He said. "You should have been prepared for that. Your a beautiful girl, Rachel."
Her heart took a leap and she stopped breathing the instant the words touched her ears. What she hadn't been prepared for was that sentence and how she would feel when it was said. He just said she was beautiful!
She leaned her head back against the tree and tilted her head to look at him. She found his gaze already intently on her.
"You think I'm beautiful?" She asked boldly.
His face was serious and thoughtful at the same time. He answered her quietly.
"Any man with eyes KNOWS your beautiful."
They stared at one another. The moment hanging in the air between them. She knew their attraction to each other wasn't a secret but this was the first time it had been put into words of any kind. Up until then it had been shy glances and smiles when one thought the other wasn't looking. It had been arguing and blazing looks and harsh words, then had been calm repor and body language. Never words as bold and plain as this.
"With or without clothes." He finished.
Again they just held each others eyes. She wasn't sure what she should say or feel at the moment. Here she was, sitting under a weeping willow tree in the middle of a sultry Louisiana night with another hunter that made her senses swim.
She wanted to lean over and kiss his beautiful pouty mouth so bad that she almost let the urge take over the other thoughts in her mind which were that she was in no mental state to let such a thing happen.
Almost.
Good sense to stay away from him won over just as she was about to reach over and pull him close. She even thought she moved a fraction in his direction before swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat and averting her eyes once again to the journal in her hand.
"I should get back." She said.
The disappointment on his face was visible for a second before he started to stand up. She thanked him silently for his understanding.
"Yeah. It's late." He said offering his hand to help her up. "I should see if I can thaw Sam out before morning."
She smiled and took his hand. He pulled her to her feet and their eyes locked for another second in acknowledgment of the moment that had passed between them.
They walked back across the parking lot talking about the journal. He told her about a few specific things she should defiantly read and where to find them. She laughed at him when he yelped in pain after stepping on a rock. Telling him that that's what you got when you came out in bare feet.
They got to the staircase that led to the second floor, they paused and she thanked him again for the journal and waited for him to turn toward his room after saying goodnight, but he didn't take a single step.
She realized that he was waiting for her to climb the stairs and get into her room, which he could watch her do from the open balcony on the second floor. \
She moved to her room with half a smile on her face at his open gesture of unspoken attraction once again.
Dean walked back into his freezing room with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Relief because he knew now the bulk of why she had acted so funny earlier. Even though he felt like she'd left something out, he could tell she was genuine in her recount of feeling dirty and disgusted with herself at her ease into being a stripper. He didn't want to fully admit it, but part of his new calm was because she had looked him full in the eyes tonight with no problem. He knew that that was why he had ventured after her in the first place. Because he couldn't bare that she had shut him out and had to find out why. Well, now he knew and felt better for it.
The disappointment part was because she had almost responded to him. There had been a moment between them tonight that she had failed to take advantage of it. She had wanted to. He saw it in her eyes and also saw how hard she tried to deny it. He hadn't pushed it.
She had things to deal with, he knew. He didn't know the details but knew that she lost her sister to hunting and blamed herself for it. Blamed herself for it to the point she needed to turn every aspect of her life into mourning her in one way or another.
He understood. As someone who would die, or kill, for his family he had decided there under the tree to let her be. How long he could continue to do that, he wasn't sure. He wanted her more and more every day it seemed.
After turning the air down to a more tolerable level he lay in bed and was surprised when he felt his mind shutting down almost immediately to allow sleep to creep in.