The hospital was strangely quiet. Everything seemed dark. Fuzzy around the edges. Rachel walked down the hall to Sam's room, feeling like she was invisible. Not one doctor or nurse acknowledged her presence. Usually, she couldn't step one foot on the floor without someone saying hello to her, asking about Dean, asking after her own health. They all felt she spent too much time at the hospital, neglecting her own health. That made them over attentive to her.
Not today, apparently. Today, not one person even looked at her.
Sam was standing at the window of his room. She could see his profile, tense, frustrated, the norm since he woke up. He was recovering faster than Dean, and the doctor said he'd be released soon. Still, he felt helpless, stuck here, unable to help either his dad or his brother. He was trapped.
"Morning," Rachel said. She closed the door behind her, crossed the dim room.
"Hey." Sam turned Reached out for her. Ran his fingers through her hair. "How'd you sleep? Did you sleep?"
She nodded. "Eight full hours."
"Did you eat?"
"Yes, that too."
"Good. I've been worried. You don't take care of yourself. You're wasting away."
She punched him lightly in the stomach. "Hardly that. You worry to much."
Sam snorted. "What else can I do? I'm stuck here with nothing but worry. I worry about Dean, about Dad. About you." He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "That thing is after all of us. After you."
"I'm fine. I've warded the apartment. I'm wearing a cross at all times. Every morning I go down to the church and get a new cross inked and blessed." She held up her hand. Frowned. The cross was gone.
He took her hand. Kissed the spot the cross was supposed to be. "I know, it's just..."
This was wrong. Something was wrong. The air was too heavy. She couldn't breathe. She was hot and... her stomach squirmed with something like arousal. "Sam..."
"Rachel," Sam breathed. His hands came to her neck, cupping her face. "Maybe you should go home. Where it's safe."
"I don't think anywhere is safe." She knew she should do something. Push him away. Scream. Anything.
But she couldn't, and then... and then he was kissing her. Backing her to the bed. Laying her out and covering her body with his own and, God, he was a lot bigger than Dean. Bigger than Kit. Strong. So strong it felt like he was crushing her. She couldn't breathe, and she was so hot. On fire, and it didn't feel good. But she couldn't feel anything, not Sam's mouth, even though she knew it was on hers, and not his hands, although she could see them canvassing her body, not the press of his hips, even though there was a pressure so strong on her pelvis that she could feel the vibrations, the shocks, the pleasure radiating and...
"Ah!" Rachel cried out, shooting upright in bed. Sweat poured down her face, obscuring her vision. She rubbed her eyes, scrubbed at her face. Came away with wetness only half sweat.
"Oh, fuck," she swore, seeing the blood on her hands. No wonder she hadn't been able to breathe. Goddamn demon.
She climbed out of bed, glancing at her alarm clock. The clock was blank. No power. She tried the TV, the lights, all to the same effects. The power had been blown.
Wiping her nose off on her shirt, Rachel searched the apartment for the fuse box. Sure enough, one of the breakers had blown. Swearing, she flipped it right, then went to the bathroom to wash up.
She didn't want to think about the dream.
There was a note for her in the kitchen, from Missouri.
"Didn't want to wake you, since you were finally sleeping. I should be back from Lawrence tomorrow morning with my supplies. You be good and make sure your husband keeps it in his pants. Girl like you deserves flowers and romance, not a quick tumble in between nurse visits. Call if there's any problems. I'll know if you don't. Missouri."
Rachel rolled her eyes and grabbed a muffin. "She acts as if Dean and I can't keep our hands off each other," she muttered. It wasn't true. Yes, Rachel did most of her research on Dean's bed, and, yes, Dean was a very tactile person, but it wasn't like that. They were just friends. Friends pretending to be married.
A friend who was falling completely and totally in love with him. But that was besides the point. And that was just her. Dean was just high.
She got dressed, grabbed her books and computer, and her cell phone. The phone was dead.
"What the hell?" She tried to turn it on, but it wouldn't go. Rolling her eyes, she dug through the apartment for the charger and plugged it in. She could come back for it later. Until then, she'd use Dean's phone.
Which was also dead. "Fuck!"
Whatever, she had to go. She'd overslept.
Why had she dreamed about Sam? Not that he was unattractive or anything, but, well. He wasn't Dean. He wasn't who she wanted. And Sam certainly didn't want her either, not like that. He'd been calling her his little sister practically since they met. It was almost incestuous to dream of him like that.
Not to mention creepy. And disloyal.
Not that she could be blamed for where her subconscious took her, right? These days, she was so sexually frustrated, it was no wonder. And she'd never been like this in her life before. Not until Dean... Not until this stupid marriage and them pretending and putting on a show for the doctors. And Dean and his kisses and the way his hands grabbed her, especially when showing Missouri that he could do what he wanted.
And Rachel agreed. One hundred percent. Dean could do whatever he wanted to her, no complaints.
If only he could. If only his heart would pick up, just a few more beats. If only he would heal, get better. Be able to do what it was he kept teasing her with.
Although, that was another problem. Teasing. It was probably just that. Oh, she knew he found her attractive, but Dean wouldn't do anything about it. Not with her. It would never work.
Even though she wanted it to work.
Rachel made it to the hospital and tried to shake off the depression that was taking her. There were bigger things to worry about right now than her sex life, or lack of. John was still in a coma. They still hadn't found out how to get the demon out of him. Plus, the demon was obviously still after them. After her. Her personal life was secondary to all of that.
"Good morning!" she sang as cheerily as she could, entering Dean's room. "Sorry I'm late, I..."
Dean turned from the woman sitting next to him. His hand was in hers, a soft smile on his face. "Hey, you," he said to Rachel. His smile seemed to widen, eyes brighten, but Rachel barely saw him. All she could see was the other woman.
Tall. A riot of curly black hair that framed a beautifully shaped oval face. Big eyes. Full lips. Perfect skin. Impeccably dressed. Like a model.
And grown up, too. Completely composed, self-possessed. Confident. Perfect.
The woman smiled and let go of Dean's hand. "Hi. You must be Rachel." She stood and held her hand out. Over Dean's bed. "I'm Cassie."
Stupidly, Rachel stumbled closer to the bed. Maneuvered the books and her bag so she could reach out and grasp Cassie's hand in hers. "Hi. Nice to meet you."
"I tried calling you this morning. I thought it'd be more polite to get in contact with you. Make sure Dean was well enough to receive visitors. But I got your voice mail, so I just came." She smiled down at Dean. "Luckily, Dean was in a lot better shape than I thought he'd be."
"Yeah. Uh, my phone went dead. Battery." She put her computer bag on the floor. Books on the bed. She didn't know what else to say.
"You all right?" Dean asked. He took her hand. "You look kind of pale."
"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I just... need coffee. Do you need coffee? Do you?" she asked, looking at Cassie.
Cassie shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm fine."
"Coffee would be good." He squeezed he hand. "You sure you're okay? No... problems?"
She plastered a smile on her face. "I'm fine. Look, I'm going to run down to the cafeteria. And see Sam. Get started. I'll be back in a few. It was nice meeting you, Cassie. I'm glad you could come."
Cassie smiled at her. "You too."
She grabbed her bag and books. Started to lean down to kiss Dean, then realized that was stupid. "Be back."
"Mrs. Winchester!" a nurse said as Rachel fled down the hall.
Rachel turned, trying to keep back her tears. "Yes?"
The nurse approached. Rose, that was her name. Nice lady. A little harsh at times, but her heart was in the right place.
"Are you all right?" She moved over to Rachel. Took her arm.
"I'm fine," Rachel said, wincing. Her head ached with trying to hold back the tears. "Just... having a bad day."
"Is this about the woman in with your husband? Looks like an old lover to me. You sure you want to leave them alone?"
"I trust him," Rachel said, voice cracking. "And her."
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm just... like I said. Emotional today."
"Getting your period?"
Please, say that louder. "I don't... maybe."
"Maybe you're pregnant." Rose smiled. Beamed. "Wouldn't that be a nice surprise for your man."
Rachel snorted. "Oh, yeah. That's definitely be a surprise. Look, thanks. I feel better. But I need to go see Sam. You know how he is."
"Oh, yes, I know," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "Better get up there before he runs away again. They really need to release that boy. If he's well enough to sneak out at all hours, the he's well enough to go home."
"That what he thinks." She squeezed Rose's arm, then backed away. "I'll talk to you later."
Cassie was here. Dean's ex. The woman Dean loved. The only girl that he'd loved that he'd slept with. She was here.
Damn.
Rachel blinked tears from her eyes. It'd be easier if Cassie wasn't so pretty, or if she'd seemed mean or something. But she'd been nice and friendly. Like someone Rachel wouldn't mind being friends with. Which meant that she was the kind of woman Rachel thought Dean would be good with. More than her. Dean deserved someone... grown up. Confident. Sexually experienced. Not someone like Rachel.
"Hey," Rachel said softly. She leaned against the door in Sam's room and dropped her things.
Sam was standing at the window. He turned. "Hey. You okay?"
She looked up at him. Immediately, images from her dream flooded her mind.
Heat filled her face and she looked away. God, this was the worst day ever. "Yeah." Her voice was really high.
She cleared her throat and tried again. "Yeah, I'm fine." She licked her lips. "Cassie's here. Visiting Dean. I was just there."
"Oh." Then, "Wait, you're not worried, are you?"
"No." Yes. "What would I be worried about?"
"That, I don't know. Dean would want Cassie. To go back to her or something."
She shook her head. "Why would I care? I mean..."
"Because you're in love with him."
"No I'm not."
"He's in love with you, you know."
"No he's not."
"Rachel." Sam crossed the room and put his hands on her arms. "I did that marriage certificate made out the way I did for a reason, you know. The two of you have been flirting like mad since you first met. You all but got together the last time, and probably would have, if he'd not freaked out. He loves you."
"He's attracted to me. There's a difference."
He sighed. "Cassie's his past. I'm sure he's over her by now."
She looked up at him. "Right. Because it's so easy to get over someone you were in love with. How silly of me to forget that."
"Rachel." He sighed again and put his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.
They both stiffened at the same time. Pulled away at the same time. Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and found she couldn't look at Sam. She couldn't tell what he thought or was doing, but it seemed like he was embarrassed too.
"Um," she said.
"Uh. So, uh."
"Research. We really need to... you know. Research."
"Right. I'll take the computer. And that one book I had yesterday."
She nodded. Picked up her stuff. "I'll just... sit over here." She moved to the chair pulled furthest from Sam's bed.
"Yeah. I'll be here." He took the computer. Set it up.
The both got to work, but Rachel found it hard to concentrate. It felt too much like the air was laughing around her.