Rachel woke hours later, slowly blinking as she focused on the scent that danced under her nose. Coffee. And bacon. She sat up, pawing at her hair that had dried more erratically than usual, trying to smooth it as she looked around. The room was empty, but she noticed the coffee brewed in the pot on the table across from her, and the wrapped breakfast sandwich in front of it. Rachel stood, stretching as she approached it, her stomach rumbling as she caught a whiff of the bacon again. Lifting the sandwich, she revealed a note underneath:

I got you a few things this morning. It's all on the chair in the bag.
I hope the sizes are right.
Loading the car with some supplies Ketch picked up.

I'm right outside if you need me.

-Sam

Sitting at the table, Rachel poured herself a cup of coffee, mixing in two creamers and sipping it with a relieved sigh. She unwrapped the sandwich, nearly animalistic as she devoured it. It was her favorite-eggs, bacon, cheese, ketchup, and pepper on a roll. Lucky guess? she tried to convince herself. Still, the ratio of ketchup and pepper was perfect. Too perfect for coincidence, it seemed.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin, drawing in a deep breath and eyeing the unassuming shopping bag across from her. She stood, crossing to it and opening it up. Inside was a pair of maternity jeans, a soft green tee shirt, a black bra and a couple pairs of matching underwear, a set of pajamas, a pair of socks and tennis shoes, a small brush, hair ties, a toothbrush, and her brand of deodorant. Everything was her exact size, down to the letter. "Holy shit." Maybe I should give him a chance. I mean, if he's doing all this as a trick, it's pretty damn elaborate. And expensive.

Taking all of the items, she changed in the bathroom, stunned at how everything worked perfectly for her body. It all fit like a glove, even the bra. Her eyes welled with tears. Why couldn't she remember Sam, if they were, in fact, a couple? He seemed to know so much about her, but she knew nothing of him, other than what she heard via the rumor mill and what he told her. She wrestled with herself, ultimately denying her heart its desire to believe him, to fully trust him. Stranger, weirder things had been done before in the name of stalking and crime. It would take more than an outfit to convince her he wasn't out to kill her or something.

Rachel exited the bathroom, her eyes falling on Sam as he came back into the room. "Hey," he said, pausing. "Does it … Does it all work for now?"

"It's perfect," she admitted, giving a small smile back. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Uh, yeah I do. This was at least a hundred and fifty bucks. Maybe two."

"It's no biggie."

"I'll repay you for it all."

"Stop. There's no need."

"You're a hunter. You're not rolling in dough."

"Pffft. It's not even a full game of pool."

Rachel smirked. "Cocky at hustling civilians, are we?"

Sam shrugged, his mouth curling into a lopsided smile. "Just confident."

"Bet I could take you in darts."

Sam's smile grew wider, recalling their game they had in Nebraska. "Oh yeah?" He moved closer to her, putting his hands in his jean pockets. "I accept. What are your terms?"

Rachel felt her pulse skyrocket, the flirtatious look Sam gave her making her nervous like a schoolgirl. "I win, I repay you for these clothes." She swallowed, his focus on her almost more than she could handle.

Sam nodded. "Alright." He wore a smolder as he closed the gap a little more. "If I win, I get to kiss you."

Her lips parted. "W-What?"

"You heard me." He watched her try to hide her subtle squirm, his tongue darting out over his lips. "But you're good at darts, so you won't have to worry about it, right?"

Before she could find the words to reply, the motel room door swung open. "Right, then," Ketch interrupted behind them with a huff. Sam looked at him over his shoulder. "We're all packed. So let's get on the road, shall we?"

Sam gestured to the open door to Rachel, who walked past him, giving him a subtle look before she left. Ketch followed her, leaving Sam at the end. A smile played around his lips, his stomach knotting. He knew he had taken a risk, but it proved to pay off. She didn't threaten his life, at least. Maybe there was hope for them just yet.

Six hours into their drive back, Rachel shifted uncomfortably in the back seat. "Guys, I'm sorry, I've gotta pee."

Ketch sighed. "Dammit. Can't you deal with it until we stop for the night?"

"Uh, sure," Rachel replied, glaring at him. "Let me just pull my dick out and piss in a bottle. Oh wait. I don't have one. And I've got a human being pressing on my bladder."

"'Least you hope it's human."

"Hey," Sam barked, gripping the steering wheel. Tensions were running high since the minute Ketch and Rachel were forced to share a small space, it only getting worse with each passing hour. "Quiet," he warned Ketch. He flicked his eyes back at Rachel in the mirror. "Next rest stop is in forty miles or so. Can you hold it?"

Sighing, Rachel leaned against the back seat. "Guess I'll have to."

"We'll see if there's anything in between," he assured.

"Sure," Ketch grumbled, "because another delay like back in Pennsylvania is just what we need."

"Screw you," Rachel sneered.

"I'm flattered, but Sam's beaten me to the punch," Ketch quipped.

"Stop it," Sam shouted, feeling his pulse quicken. The car fell silent, Sam's jaw ticking as he focused on the highway. "You," he said to Ketch stiffly, "that's enough."

"You should tell her the same about her tendency to make stops," Ketch muttered.

"Eat me, dick," Rachel grumbled.

"Again, with the suggestiveness. Something you'd care to admit?"

"Hey!" Sam shouted to both of them. "Enough!" Rachel saw he was more than irritated. "Just … ignore him, alright? You need to watch your blood pressure."

Rolling her eyes, she pressed her back against the cushions, trying to shift her position to make herself more comfortable for the next forty minutes or so. Ketch looked out the windshield with an arched brow. No one spoke, Sam's grip on the steering wheel whitening his knuckles. Even if Rachel didn't remember things, one thing was for sure-she and Ketch were never meant to get along, not even amicably.

Spotting a small dive ahead about ten minutes later, Sam made a quick lane shift and pulled over into the gravel parking lot, kicking up clouds of dust as he barrelled in. He stopped the car with an abrupt brake, everyone lurching forward a little. "Sorry," he apologized, seeing how Rachel covered her mouth.

"Oh God," she moaned, throwing open her door and running out toward the grassy edge of the lot. Sam winced when he saw her in the rearview mirror hunched over, clearly throwing up.

"You," he said to Ketch with a glare. "Knock it off with her." He eyed him, Ketch giving him an unimpressed look. "She's my girlfriend. So, show some respect."

Ketch smirked. "Technically, she's not your girlfriend anymore. You need to earn that back."

Sam's brow wrinkled. "I'm still willing to unload that clip in you." He threw open his door, slamming it shut as he crossed back to Rachel, who straightened and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You okay?" he asked as he approached her.

"Yeah," she murmured, drawing in a deep breath. "Bacon the second time around doesn't taste as good."

Sam ran his hand over her upper back, tenderly stroking her as she turned to him in surprise. "Sorry," he said, withdrawing his hand, hiding the pain it caused. For a moment, he was at the Nebraska church with her, able to comfort her from the horrors it rebirthed in her mind. For a moment, she was trusting of him, allowing him to protect and care for her. For a moment, it was all as it should have been.

"I'll, uh, just go use the bathroom so Ketch doesn't freak," she said quickly, scurrying away from him, her heart racing. She knew he was entirely conflicted, but having him inclined to be so intimate with her was overwhelming. Sam was convinced they had been something, but she didn't recall a single detail. She couldn't allow herself to go against her better judgment for his sake. That was how you got hurt-really hurt, in some cases.

Rachel opened the chipped white bathroom door on the exterior of the small truck stop eatery, shutting it behind her. It was a single stall, the lock a mere hook and eye on the interior. "Great." She hooked it shut, quickly taking care of business with a sigh of relief.

As she stood and pulled up her jeans, she heard footsteps outside of the door. She flushed, quickly washing her hands, eager to get back to Sam. There was something about the entire place that creeped her out. As she dried her hands on the meager piece of paper towel she managed to free from the jammed dispenser, a bang resounded on the door. "Just a sec," she said, heart thumping as she waited for some kind of polite response. There was nothing.

Chewing on her bottom lip, Rachel unhooked the door with a shaky hand, opening it. Outside was a middle-aged woman with unnaturally purple-tinted red hair and a rounded figure. "About damn time," she grumbled.

"Sorry," Rachel replied, swearing she had been pretty quick. Still, the woman seemed the type to be miserable, no matter what. "All yours." As she stepped toward the right to exit, the woman grabbed her wrist.

"Shh," the woman smirked, Rachel gasping at her unnatural strength. "There's no one to scream for anyway, Rachel." Rachel's jaw dropped as the woman's eyes flashed black. "Told you he'd be ours."

"Sam!" Rachel screamed anyway, trying to slam the rickety door shut, but unsuccessful as her back slammed against the dirty tile wall the demon threw her into it, pinning her there.

"He's dead," the woman replied. "Now, you have a choice-you can fight and lose, or comply and live."

"Go to hell," Rachel snarled. "Sam!"

Hearing her faintly from where he stood outside of the car, Sam grabbed the demon blade and bolted toward the bathroom, Ketch behind him. Two burly men rounded the corner as they approached the back of the building, their eyes flashing black as they grinned. The bigger of the two lunged for Sam, wrapping his thick hands around Sam's neck and tossing him yards away onto the gravel lot, the blade falling from his hand. Ketch was punched by the second demon, the hard blow knocking him down as blood oozed from his lip.

Sam stood, immediately gripping both demons, hand shaking as his fingers curved into a tight fist. His nostrils flared, jaw ticking as he smoked them out, the pain nearly unbearable without the proper fuel. Blood leaked from his nose. He was painfully low. If he wanted to keep one step ahead of them, he had to drink more blood, and fast.

When the two demons were dealt with, Sam grabbed his knife and rushed to the women's room, throwing open the door. Without a second thought, he slammed the knife into the woman's back, pulling the vessel off of Rachel as the demon died. Panting, Sam let the body drop, looking at Rachel, who broke away from the wall. "You okay?" he asked. She nodded, stunned.

"Come on," they heard Ketch say behind them; Sam turned and looked at him. "The bodies are out of sight. I'll get her back in the car." Ketch wet his lips, eyeing Sam suggestively. "You take care of this," he added with a nod to the body. "Quickly."

Sam's heart raced. He knew what Ketch was implying he should do, but was it right? Was it safe? Still, this wasn't the last of the demons until they got back to the bunker. He knew that. With a small nod, Sam handed Ketch the knife. "Go," he murmured to Rachel, urging her forward.

Rachel passed him with wrinkled brows. "Just … leave it, Sam. I mean, what can you do with-"

"Just go," Sam snapped, seeing her surprised reaction. Before he could apologize, she was gone, Ketch following closely behind her after giving Sam another small nod. Sam groaned, looking at the body as the blood leaked out of the woman's back. His stomach lurched in starvation, his pulse quickening with anticipation. Sweat dotted his brow as he wrestled with what he was about to do. He closed his eyes, craning his neck and shutting the bathroom door with a heavy thud, spinning around with a small smile playing on his lips.

A couple minutes later, Sam silently climbed back into the driver's seat. He started the car without a second thought, catching Rachel's arched brow in the rearview mirror. Sam pulled out onto the road, drawing in a deep breath. It was for her. All of it. Her and Robbie.

Wasn't it?