A Supernatural Quickie: Chapter 21;

Dean jumped behind a display of cantaloupes, using them for cover as another knife flew at him this time sticking deep into the orange flesh of the melon, the price tag still hanging from the handle.

"If you're looking to attract customers, this isn't the way to do it," he shouted pulling the gun out from his jacket and checking the clip—only half full. "Damn."

"You know what we're here for, let us take it and we'll leave you alone," a grandmother-y voice sounded from over by the direction of the check out line.

"Funny, I would have thought you'd frown on shop lifting," Dean said, trying to get a look around the side of the oversized display box.

"We want the oracle," said the voice. Damn demons never had a sense of humour Dean thought, but he reached up grabbing a melon in each hand and weighing them experimentally.

"Sorry, I already have one of those, got anything else?"

"Insolent human," another knife came at him, this time barely missing his leg and he moved further back out of range. "You can't stop us, and you don't want to try. We will get the oracle."

"And here I thought that customer was always right," Dean said, standing up and tossing the melon like a medicine ball, hitting the woman in the shoulder and sending the next knife flying, while he drew his gun in the other hand, sending two bullets off to where the bag boy waited silently near the back of the store and dropping a ceiling sign that announced what items were in that aisle on top of him.

"I'll just come back later," he yelled back, pushing out the door and running straight into the fist of a large looking man, sheriff's badge bright on his shirt.

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"It's coming for me," Rachel said, not wanting it to be true but hearing the surety in her voice and knowing that this was one of those times when she was right even if none of them knew it yet.

"We don't know that," Sam said, echoing her thoughts and trying to keep what he knew to be true from her too. Because he could see the weight of it fall onto her shoulders, crushingly and watch her straighten and bear it with a strength he'd only seen once…in Dean. They really are meant for each other, he thought.

"Where is the storm coming from?" she asked, quietly, ignoring Sam as if he hadn't spoken and turned to Bobby, knowing that there would be more.

Bobby looked at her for the first time like he actually believed that she was more then just a girl thrown into all this by mistake; he looked at her with something akin to fear in his eyes. "How did you know that she said it was a storm?"

"I know because I've seen it brewing, and growing on the horizon just waiting for the chance to escape," she answered. "Or maybe others told you about wolves at the gate?" she asked, pushing him and knowing by the way his skin blanched that she'd been right again, he had been to see more then one person and they'd all told him the same thing or he wouldn't look so worried.

"It's coming for me Sam," she said, making him hear the truth in her words that he couldn't argue with. "We have to go."

"Now wait a second, no one's going anywhere," Bobby argued, just as Sam said; "With the panic room and Bobby's arsenal we're probably better off here."

"But they're not," Rachel said, gesturing out the window to where small houses were visible in the distance. "They'll get caught in it Sam…Please," she whispered, "I can't let them die for me, we have to go, try and stay ahead of it until we find something that can turn the tide."

Sam looked at Bobby, knowing that watching the demons take over people around her, hurt them, use them, was something that Rachel couldn't stand to watch again. He saw the same concern in Bobby's eyes.

"Okay," Sam sighed, "But where?"

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Dean felt himself hit the concrete hard, his head knocking against the door he'd just ran out of and he struggled to remember why he was one the ground…something about strawberries?

Rachel.

Demons.

He looked up just as a booted foot hit him in the ribs, sending the air out of his lungs in a rush as he rolled back against the wall, arms closing over his chest in what looked like an automatic protective motion.

"You didn't think you were getting rid of me that easily did you Dean?" a voice asked, and he was dragged up to stare into black eyes.

"Oh I had hoped," he coughed out, gasping for air.

"You know, I think I'm beginning to enjoy this assignment," Belial said, fist knocking Dean to the ground again, followed by another boot heel.

"Glad to hear you're having such a good time," Dean winced, one hand slipping inside his sleeve.

"You know why? It's that girl of yours Dean, she's a real peach," he said, thumbs digging into the belt that held his uniform on over the wide girth of his stomach and licking his lips. "You know, when we were alone there in the cemetery that night, and she was all pressed up against me, her skin so soft…just like peachfuzz. I'd love a taste of that before I have to hand her over."

Dean stilled, his fingers closing over the hilt of the knife strapped to his arm. "Go to hell Belial," he whispered, lunging to stab the knife deep into the man's throat, not bothering to wait and watch while the blood started to flow and Belial abandoned this body.

"And this time stay there." He ran back to the car, wheels spinning as he took off back towards the highway, the speed limit a meaningless number compared with how many miles stretched between him and Bobby's place.