Rachel was only three steps out of the hospital when her phone rang.
"Hello?" she answered, carefully looking both ways before crossing the street. For reasons neither she nor Sam had been able to figure out but thanked their lucky stars for, there was a New Age shop a block and a half from the hospital. Also a block and a half from the hospital was edible food, and she was hungry. Bet John was, too, considering he hadn't eaten solid food for two weeks.
"Hey, it's me," Sam said. "What does Dad want you to do?"
"Get some stuff for him."
"I assume it's not clothes and his shaving kit or anything. He would have just asked me."
Rachel sighed. "Right. He wants these... supplies."
"And please tell me you aren't talking about condoms."
"Gross!"
"Well, he was holding your hand an awful long time."
"Yeah, what was up with that?"
"Like I've ever been able to figure out what the hell my dad is doing," Sam said dryly. "Come on, Rach. Give. What's he got you getting?"
She sighed. "Just some magic stuff."
"What kind?"
She stopped at the corner and pushed the button to cross. "Um. To, uh. Summon demons."
Rachel was able to count to ten before Sam exploded. "What? What the ... he's summoning demons? No. He's summoning the demon, isn't he?"
"I don't know." Green light. She crossed. "He didn't say."
"He sent me home to get the Colt."
"That doesn't mean anything. It's a valuable piece of property. Why would he trust a... a little slip of a girl like me to keep it safe?" she asked without any bitterness. Away from John and his overwhelming presence, she felt a lot more confident. Even more rational about John and his anger. It didn't have anything to do with her; it had to do with him waking up and finding out his son was in a coma and he'd been infected with a demon for the past two weeks.
"What does that mean?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. Just... there are reasons that he might want it."
"He's hunting."
"He might not be."
Sam obviously didn't believe her. He swore. "That bastard. That utter bastard. How dare he risk Dean's life like this?"
"Sam, you don't know..."
"Of course I know! This is exactly like something he'd do. Dammit."
Rachel sighed. As she rounded the corner to the shop, she said, "Just talk to him before you go in all accusing? We've all had enough stress. You guys don't need to start fighting."
"I'm not going to fight unless he makes me," Sam said.
"Sam..."
"Just stay out of it, Rachel. You don't know anything about my family. I'll see you at the hospital." He hung up.
Rachel shook her head. "Apparently, there's a lot I don't know," she said under her breath.
She entered the shop and quickly bought the supplies on the list. She could, she supposed, not buy anything and circumvent the blow-out that she figured was coming between Sam and John, but John scared her. It was easier to get the stuff and hope he knew whatever the hell he was doing.
When she got back to the hospital, she found John in Dean's room. He stood the side of the bed, silent, looking at his son. His face was drawn into deep lines. Sad ones. Guilty.
Silently, Rachel entered. She closed the door behind her and moved to stand next to him.
"You're back fast."
"Well. I skipped getting you food. I wanted to beat Sam back."
He snorted. "You told him."
"Bad liar."
"On the phone?"
"Really bad liar. Here. I got everything on your list. Why are you summoning the demon?"
He took the bag she handed him. Didn't say anything.
Rachel rubbed the back of her neck. "Look. You're summoning the demon that Sam, Dean, and I have been trying to get rid of for weeks. You've got Sam bringing the only weapon that you know can kill it to the hospital. Either you're planning on doing something real stupid or you're planning something else... really stupid." She looked over at him.
John looked back. "Stupid?"
"Demon has to go somewhere. You summon him, he inhabits a body. You kill that body? You go to jail. And, yes, I understand that there are some things more important than jail, but not when you've got a son near death. You might be many things, but stupid man and a heartless father isn't one of them."
He turned away from Dean. "This is the way it's going to work. You are going to do what you've been doing. Sit by Dean's side, keep Sam in one piece mentally and physically. You're not going to worry about me or what I'm doing."
"In order to keep Sam together..."
"You are not going to worry about what I'm doing," John interrupted. Then, softer, he said, "I need to know you can keep an eye on my boy."
"Of course. Only." Rachel licked her lips. "The last time, the demon was kind interested in messing around with me. And it tried to possess me."
"Shit."
"I fought it off, but I'm afraid..."
"Do you know anything you can use as protection?" John asked.
She shrugged. "Against this? Not really. You?"
John sighed. "No. Why you?"
"I think it was bored. With its parts inside you, I think it was tied to you, couldn't leave. So it was trying to find a distraction. And trying to mess with Sam. I was just the vessel it used."
"What do you mean?"
She sighed. "I don't know. Apparently I might be able to do astral projection. I do it in my sleep, so it was catching me when I was out of my body and using my presence to try and make Sam fall in love with me."
"Why?" he asked, sounding flabbergasted.
"You know how he's a psychic? I think he's also supposed to be telekinetic. And the demon is trying to push him into using that power by hurting those he loves. It tried hurting you and Dean, but nothing happened. So, it was trying to use a girl. I happened to be nearby and available."
"Sounds kind of farfetched to me," John said.
"Sam has a sort of girlfriend who lives in New York. When she called, and I was talking to her, the demon tried to possess me and make me invite her here." She shrugged. "I just know for two weeks, I've been living with this constant pressure and static in my head. And now it's gone."
John frowned and looked her over. "It almost sounds like it was after you, too. Not just Sam. It was interested in you."
"Again, that's just boredom. According to Missouri, I had certain attributes that would interest a weak and evil demon."
"Like what?"
Rachel blushed.
The door opened. "There you are," Rose said, sticking her head in. "You haven't been cleared to leave the ICU yet, Mr. Winchester. Rachel, how could you..."
"I was out," she said, eyes never leaving John's face. "I thought he'd been cleared."
"Mr. Winchester, we need to get you back down there. Doctor was just about to move you to your new room."
"I feel fine," he said to Rose, looking at Rachel.
"Nevertheless."
"You coming?"
Rachel shook her head. "I'll just stay here with Dean for a bit. Keep an eye on him."
"Good girl." John put his hand on Rachel's head and sort of messed her hair. Then he allowed Rose to drag him from the room.
With a heavy sigh, Rachel went to the bed. She hated the tubes sticking out of Dean's body. They were evil. They were, "pull the plug" tubes, and she didn't like the fact her husband was so close to the end. "Keep fighting," Rachel whispered. "Or I will follow you to the afterlife and kick your sorry ass. Got it?"
Dean gave no indication that he heard her.
She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Then, weary to the bone, she went to the cot, lay down, and closed her eyes.
Rachel had no idea how long she lay sleeping before everything went to hell. First, the alarm sounded. Then there was shouting. And by the time she got her eyes open, the room was swarmed with doctors and nurses, all around Dean. They had the deliberators and were saying things like, "No heartbeat," and "clear," and "Still no heartbeat."
And she was trapped against the wall, watching Dean die, watching the doctors try to save him. And there was a roaring in her ears and it hurt to breathe and her throat swelled three times the size it should be and everything went wavy and blurry and she could see Sam, but he was all the way on the other side of the room and no way could she ever reach him because the gulf was miles wide.
"Dean," she choked out. Something wet fell down her face.
And the long, flat, monotonous beep stopped, replaced.
"He's back."
Rose was in front of her, gripping her shoulders. "Honey, it's okay. He's okay. Breathe."
"I'm so tired of this," Rachel choked out. And then, she broke down, clinging to Rose. Sobbing into her shoulder.
Rose sat next to her on the cot. She put both arms around Rachel and stroked her back. "I know, baby. I know. But be strong, honey."
"I'm sick of being strong." She wiped her nose on her sleeve.
"All right. Think of it this way. Is he worth it?" Rose pulled away, holding Rachel at arm's length. "And I'm serious. Look at him and tell me, is he worth putting up with this?"
Rachel didn't even have to look at Dean to answer, "Of course he's worth it." She wiped her eyes. "He'll be even more worth it when he wakes up and I can give him hell for putting me through hell."
Rose squeezed her knee. "That's marriage, honey." She touched Rachel's hot, tear sticky cheek. "You going to be okay? I don't think you should be alone."
"She's not," Sam said, coming up behind Rose. "Rach, come on. I need your help with something."
Rose stood. Turned to Sam. "If she comes back with one mark on her, I will call the police and throw your sorry ass in jail, do you understand?"
Sam blinked, shock washing over her face. "What?"
"Every time she comes back her after being with you, it seems like she's hurt. The bump on her head, now her wrist. Don't think I'm not watching you."
"He's not doing anything to me." Rachel rubbed her eyes; they hurt from crying. "I tripped on the stairs earlier and sprained my wrist. Sam was nowhere near me at the time." She pushed past Rose to Sam. "Where are we going?"
He glanced at Rose uncertainly, then took Rachel by the good wrist and tugged her from the room. "They really think I'm hurting you?"
"Honestly, this is the first I've heard of it," Rachel said, yawning. "Don't worry. I don't think she can do anything except make me see a social worker or something. That person will try to get me to press charges, but since you're not doing anything, I won't. Don't worry. And what is you and your father's obsession with clinging to me?" She twisted her wrist in Sam's grasp. "Afraid I'm going to run away?"
He let go of her wrist. "When I was in the hall, when they were finishing up with Dean, I heard him."
Rachel blinked up at him. "Heard him?"
"Heard, felt, I don't know. He was there. I know he was. And he's trying to tell me something. And earlier, before? Dad and I got in a fight. We were screaming at each other and, all the sudden, a glass that was on Dad's tray flew off and crashed to the ground."
"Oh."
"I think it's Dean. I'm sure it's Dean." Sam set his jaw. "We're going to find a way to get in contact with him."
"How?"
A faint blush colored his cheeks. "Know where the nearest toy store it?"
