As the delivery man leaned in to say something in her ear, he caught sight of Sam on the bed, looking down at the laptop. Quickly, he pulled away, breaking the trance Rachel was in.

Rachel took the pizzas, the man leaving with an angry face she hadn't expected. "That was weird," she murmured as she shut the door, balancing the boxes as she deadbolted it shut.

"What?" Sam asked, ditching the laptop immediately and helping her with the boxes.

"Thanks," she said, looking back to the door. "He was," she explained. "I mean, I gave him a decent tip, but then he got pissy all of a sudden."

Sam shrugged, setting the pizzas down on the small table across from the beds. "Bad night, maybe?"

"Maybe."

"Want some?" Sam asked, lifting the lid to the veggie box.

"Dean …?"

Sam paused before taking a bite of a slice. "Oh," he said, realizing what she meant. "We don't really have any formalities."

"Gotcha." Rachel took a piece of veggie, chewing it gratefully. "So," she said, covering her mouth as she spoke, "how do we catch a monster we can't identify?"

"Maybe if we dig into the backgrounds of the victims, we can find a common thread between them."

"A mutual person?"

Sam nodded. "A vessel they all would know."

"Good idea."

They sat on the bed together and ate in silence, the tension climbing back into the air as Sam stole glances at Rachel. He couldn't help but notice how good she smelled when she leaned on him, or how small she actually was when her tiny hand moved over his. He shut his eyes, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he finished off his first slice. Dean really needed to get back with the beer soon—he needed to relax his mind.

"Want another?" he asked as he moved to the box and selected a slice. He caught her nod, her hand covering her mouth as she chewed the last of her first slice.

"Yes please," she said as soon as she swallowed.

Sam grabbed two pieces, showing them to her. Rachel laughed. "Am I picking?" she asked.

"Don't want you to think I kept the better slice," Sam replied with a small smile.

Rachel took the one in his right hand. "Thanks," she said softly.

Sam sat next to her on the bed, not responding, hoping to retain a bit of self-respect and control. Stop. She's not … Just don't. Don't go there.

Dean banged on the door with very little grace, as expected. "Hey Sammy," he shouted, "if you two are decent, lemme in. This shit ain't light."

Sam saw how Rachel blushed as he stood and rested his pizza slice on the box. He gritted his teeth, opening the door and immediately giving Dean a look of warning. Dean smirked, walking past him and setting the beer down on the floor. "Started without me?" he asked, looking at them as he withdrew two beers, handing them to Sam.

Rachel's mouth opened, dread lining her stomach as she saw Dean's hurt expression. "Sam said you guys didn't …"

Dean's mouth split into a wide grin as he snatched a beer for himself. "I'm just messing with you, Rach," he said with a chuckle. "Unless you ate my pepperoni."

"No," she replied, smiling softly, still trying to recover from his teasing.

Sam sighed, snagging his slice from its resting place and sitting back down with Rachel on the bed, handing her a beer and leaning back against the headboard. "We've found that there's a possibility for more than one grigori," he informed Dean as he took a slice of pizza.

"More than one?" Dean asked through a mouthful. "Why?"

"The victims are patterned, but the patterns vary," Rachel explained, sitting her beer between her thighs as she finished her pizza.

"So, different strokes for different folks." Dean chewed thoughtfully. "Think Arioch is the Alpha?" he asked, looking at Sam.

"He might be," Sam replied, taking a drink. "His spree started before the others."

"Sam had a good idea," Rachel said, wiping her mouth with her napkin and twisting off her beer's cap. "We're going to cross-reference the victims to see if they have a mutual connection. It might help us find Arioch's vessel."

Dean nodded. "Nice. And by 'we,' you mean you guys, right?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "It wouldn't kill you to do research once in a while."

"It might," Dean objected, chewing on a second slice of pizza. "Why tempt fate after all these years, Sammy? Besides," he added, nodding to Rachel, "if you're gonna be stuck near a person for hours on end, she's definitely the better choice."

Rachel smiled, laughing softly. "It's fine," she said, shrugging. "I don't mind research. It's actually pretty interesting."

"See what I mean?" Dean took another bite. "A little nerdy match made in Chuck World."

"Okay, can someone explain 'Chuck' to me?"

"No one can, darling."

Sam shook his head. "Chuck … is God," he said.

Rachel's brow shot up. "God's name is Chuck?"

"Yeah."

She drank a long swig of her beer. "Alright then," she said after she swallowed, glancing over at Sam, whose eyes flicked back to the screen. Resting her beer on the nightstand between the double beds, she stood. "Excuse me," she murmured, slipping into the bathroom.

As soon as the door closed, Sam glared over at Dean. "Enough," he warned quietly, feeling himself getting flustered.

"What?" Dean asked, mocking innocence. "I'm just trying to help."

"No more," Sam growled.

"It's my sworn duty as your older brother to embarrass the shit out of you until you get your head out of your ass and make a move," Dean said.

"I just met her today," Sam whispered harshly. "Besides, it won't work."

"What, are you blind? Did you trade a crossroads demon your sight for height? Make a damn move." Dean shook his head, drinking his beer.

"I can't, Dean," Sam said in a cool tone. "I just can't, so let it go. Also," he added, eyes narrowed, "do not tell her about grigori feedings."

"Sam," Dean said, his voice lowering, "she has a right to know."

Sam sighed. "Just … Just not now. She can't know Hailey's likely already dead. Just let her have the hope."

Dean held his hands up and shook his head. "Alright, Sammy. Have it your way."

Rachel opened the bathroom door, coming back into the room. She immediately felt the tension as she passed by Sam, her guilt churning within. Had she upset him with her desire to help research? Sitting on the bed, next to him, she leaned against the headboard and took up her beer, drinking as she quietly watched Sam worked.

An hour passed, Dean busying himself with more beer and his phone while Sam kept his focus on the computer. Rachel stayed a distance away from Sam, giving small suggestions every now and then, hoping he wasn't mad at her.

Not very long after that, Dean was passed out on his bed, still fully clothed, sleeping deeply with gentle snores. Rachel's guilt had built to a height she couldn't withhold anymore; she edged next to Sam, the only light in the room from the glow of the computer screen. "Sam?" she whispered. He turned and looked at her immediately. "I just … I wanted to apologize if I overstepped myself." She exhaled deeply. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just wanted to help however I could."

Sam's brow arched softly. He shook his head, confused. "Why are you apologizing?" he asked.

"You're mad at me for taking the lead on the research."

Sam's smile both put her mind at ease and her stomach into flips. "I'm not mad at you at all, Rachel," he murmured. "It's nice having willing help." He searched her eyes, glancing down to her lips. "I just got ticked with Dean over something, that's all. It's not your fault in any way."

Rachel pulse quickened as Sam kept looking at her. "Okay," she managed. "I just didn't want to be a problem."

"You're not," he assured. He swallowed, studying her face. "How old are you?" He squeezed his eyes shut, his head hanging right after he asked. "Sorry," he said, laughing softly through his utter embarrassment, "I shouldn't have asked that."

"It's okay," she said, giving him an encouraging smile as he dared to look back up. "27."

"Really?" He looked surprised.

"Yeah," she laughed. "I know. I have a baby face. It's the bane of my existence," she sighed. "People don't take me seriously most times because of it. Having a baby face in this line of work is frustrating."

Sam nodded. "It's certainly not a face to be ashamed of, though," he replied quietly.

Rachel gulped, a sizeable lump lodging in her throat. "Thanks."

The laptop dinged, and they turned their attention toward it. "I set up a notification for news matching potential search perimeters," Sam explained, following the alert to a news article just published. He swallowed. "Looks like something similar is happening in North Carolina."

"Sam, if Arioch isn't the Alpha, how do we stop them?"

He sighed. "I'm not sure."

Rachel planted herself next to Sam, her back pressed against the headboard as he dug deeper through each victim. She gave him suggestions interspersed through his research, her eyes heavy from the beer. She wasn't too good at holding her alcohol, and beer usually made her really sleepy.

Some time passed, and Sam stifled a yawn as he stared at the screen, feeling nearly cross-eyed from reading so much. "I'm going to pack it in," he said softly, closing the laptop. He didn't hear a response, and realized there was a bit of weight leaning on his side. He turned gently, finding Rachel out cold next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. With a small smile, Sam set the laptop aside and tried to wake her up. "Rachel?" he whispered, giving her a gentle rub on her arm. She stirred, but didn't wake. "Rachel," he tried again, tucking her hair behind her ear. It was midnight silk between his fingers. The beer. She had finished off two and a half bottles. Maybe she's a lightweight. Sam glanced to the bed they sat on, then back at Rachel. With a wince, he slid his arms under her back and thighs, lifting her up and gently laying her down so her head was on the pillow. Carefully, he withdrew her glasses and set them on the nightstand. He watched her stir, her cheek pressing into it the pillow as she stilled. Exhaling in relief, he gently unlaced her tennis shoes, slipped them off, and put them on the floor, then drew the blankets over her.

Grabbing his laptop, Sam moved to the small armchair in the far corner of the room near the bureau, bending and adjusting until it was somewhat comfortable. After a while, his eyes grew heavy, his head luling back against the wall as sleep found him.