Sam paced in the maps room, angrily tearing at his hair. "Why, dammit?" he snarled. "Why do I have to want her so much?"

"Because you care about her," Castiel concluded nonchalantly.

"I'm such a pig."

Castiel pursed his lips in thought. "It's very normal human nature, Sam."

Sam ran a hand over his face. "Cas, I have no right to my desire with the level of evil she went through."

"Did you tell her your dilemma?"

"What do you think?" Sam scoffed. "How could I tell the woman I love—the woman who was raped by 'me'—that I want to be intimate with her? How can I possibly be near her without her feeling pressured to do something? That's the last thing I want. I don't want her to regress."

Dean opened the bunker door, a white fast food bag in hand. Sam glared up at him. "Really, Dean? The fridge full of food that won't kill you wasn't good enough?"

"Look, Martha Stewart," Dean began, holding up a hand. "While no one appreciates a free meal like me, I've been dying for something that isn't even remotely healthy-something proven to cause heart attacks that's stuffed with nitrates, sodium, and preservatives. After all, modern man cannot survive on rabbit food alone."

He walked into the adjoining kitchen and tossed the burger bag on the table, Sam growling as he followed to snag another beer out of the fridge. "What's up with him? It's just burgers," Dean asked Castiel.

"He and Rachel are fighting," Castiel replied.

Dean's brow shot up. "You mean he actually saw her?" he asked sarcastically, looking over at Sam slumped at the table.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam snapped, taking a long pull of beer.

"Well, it wouldn't kill you to, I don't know, spend time with your girlfriend that you live with once in a while."

"I will. When she's better."

Dean looked at Castiel. "Give us a minute, Cas." When Castiel blinked out of sight, he focused on Sam. "Sam. It's been three weeks."

"I'm aware."

"So, what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you avoiding her like the plague?"

"I'm not avoiding her."

"Yeah. Okay."

Sam sighed. "I want her too much. And I feel like I would trigger her just by wanting to nurture her."

"When are you planning on trusting her judgment?"

"I do trust her judgment. It's me I don't trust."

"She's giving you the green light. Hell, she's been giving you the green light for over a week."

Sam drank a little beer. "I just … I mean, how could she be okay with me so close to her when it was my face she saw while she was ...?" He sniffed and looked away, unable to finish his sentence. "I'm barely okay with it."

"Because it wasn't you," Dean replied gently, sitting next to his brother. "You've got to let that guilt go. You've got no reason to hold onto it. It wasn't you."

"Does she know that, though?"

"I'm sure she does."

"What if she doesn't?"

"Is that why you haven't spoken to her in three weeks?"

Sam sighed, thinking about how good she felt only moments ago. "I don't want to upset her."

"Dude. What did I tell you to do? Keep loving her, remember?"

"I do love her."

"Then show her," Dean concluded, grabbing a cookie from the plate on the table. "And you know I'm serious, because all you've been doing for weeks is cooking and baking, and hell, it's been great." He bit into the cookie with a satisfied sigh. "And you've even used real butter and sugar the last couple days. But, it's time to get in that room and show her you're not him."

Sam inhaled deeply, drinking some more. "Then don't complain when we come out of my room," he warned after a long moment with a hint of a smile.

"Shit, I'd rather see your naked ass nailing her on the maps table than you being scared of your own shadow."

"So eloquent."

Dean shrugged. "It's the truth."

Sam smirked, a devilish glint to his eyes. "What about in the Impala?"

"You leave Baby out of this," Dean warned with a mouthful, sobering quickly.

"I do have a bet to cash in on," Sam shrugged.

"For fuck sake, it better not involve my Baby and anyone's bare asses."

"Not really bare, per say."

"No." Dean shook a cookie at Sam after snagging it from the plate. "No sex in my car, unless it's me having the sex."

Sam stood, a sly grin on his face. "Might be too late for that," he said, strolling off to his room.

"It better not be," Dean growled. "If you did the horizontal tango in my Baby, I'll kill you."

Sam knew his laugh only further irritated Dean, ignoring his brother's shouting behind him. He made his way to his room, drawing in a deep breath before knocking gently on the door.

"Come in," Rachel murmured. Sam slipped inside, quietly shutting the door behind himself. "What vitamins does he want me to eat now?" she asked, assuming it was Castiel. She kept her back to him as she stuffed her duffel bag. "Or is it medicine I don't need?" She sighed. "Probably both, knowing Sam. Surprised he hasn't made you purify the air with an ancient spell or something by now."

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

Rachel turned, surprised to see him, and also a little embarrassed at being so candid. "Nothing."

His brow arched as he stepped closer. "I just unpacked that bag."

"I … was trying to organize things. You know, to pass the time. Alone."

"Rachel—"

"Look," Rachel sighed, "I appreciate your kindness, but I never wanted to do this to either of you. Especially you. I really am grateful for what you've done for me, but I … I can't do this."

Sam's brows couldn't squish together any harder, his heart racing as he tried to understand what Rachel meant. "Baby, what … What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Sam. I care about you. I do. I just can't let you keep doing this to yourself. It's not fair. And the sooner you admit it to me, the better."

"... Doing what? Admit what—"

She gestured between them. "This, Sam!"

"Rachel—"

"Please," she whispered, silencing him with a hand held up. "I haven't been in your exact position before, but after my first experience with it, I get it. It was hard to get past for Chris and Alex too. It's not something you should have to worry about or deal with."

Sam's large hand grabbed Rachel's arm as she attempted to pass by him. "Hold it," he said, pulling her toward himself. "If you're implying that I'm no longer interested in you because of what happened, you're painfully wrong."

"Am I?" Rachel asked.

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not. And it's okay."

She tried to walk away, but he kept his grip on her. "What do you mean, your first experience with it?" he asked.

Rachel looked down, rotating her wrist in Sam's firm grip. "I was raped when I was fifteen by three boys from my parent's church. Boys I knew. I was a virgin. That's why I can't deal with churches like the one we went to."

Sam's stomach sank as he looked down at her. "Shit," he whispered, his face drawn in pain. He let her wrist go purely from shock, watching her as she took a few steps away. "Rachel. I …"

"It's okay," she said, rolling her shoulder as she turned away from him. "Like I said, I get it." She drew in a deep breath. "I should go."

"Rachel, stop," Sam ordered, halting her as she moved to open the door. He moved in behind her. "First of all, look at me." His tone was undeniably commanding, but somehow still gentle. He searched her eyes when she turned to him. "Second, I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. Third, if I knew their names, they'd be dead in five minutes. Fourth …" He swallowed. "I have been avoiding you because … because I don't want to trigger you."

"Then I don't want to do this to you by being here," she concluded. "It's not fair to you."

"Do what to me?"

"Be a burden."

"The absolute last thing you are to me is a burden."

"Not if you're unhappy." She shook her head, trying to pull away.

"Stop it," he argued in a darkened tone.

"Then why won't you stay with me?" she challenged. "If you were still interested, you'd be in here instead of out there."

Sam's cell phone rang. With hesitation, he let go of Rachel and answered it, his voice a bit gruff. "What?" He paused. "Dammit, I'm sorry, Jody. … Yeah. Bit of a bad moment. … No, go on, what's up?" Sam's brow creased. "Oh yeah? What's her name? … Rachel Lentz." He looked down at her. "… Mm-hm. … I bet she is. … Jody, I … Yeah. I'm sure she is." He turned away, feeling his cheeks heat up. If Jody only knew. "... Uh-huh. So, she needs a ride." Rachel's heart stopped as she saw the anger in Sam's eyes when he turned back to her. "Let me talk to Dean, and I'll call you back," Sam said. "... You too, Jody. Talk soon."

He hung up the phone, drawing in a deep breath through his nose. "Running away?" he asked.

"Sam—"

"So, that's it? You're just going to hide?"

"First off, I'm not, but you're certainly one to talk about hiding!"

Sam's eyes tightened. "I wasn't hiding."

"And neither am I."

"Then why are you going?"

"You don't need me here. Neither does Dean. Not even Cas. I'll stay with Jody until I can figure things out. The end."

Despite his fear of her regressing, Sam leaned into the dominant side of his nature. "No. You're not leaving."

"Yes, I am. This … Us … I'm toxic for you. All I will do is make you worry. And you'll deny it, but it's the truth. Let's face it: When we met, I was a hunter. Now, I'm a liability."

"Rachel—"

"You're not going to change my mind, Sam. I know what's best for everyone, and this is it." She paused, swallowing back the pain. "And it's my choice to stay here or not, remember?"

Sam stared down at her, gritting his teeth together. With Arioch gone, there was no reason Rachel couldn't leave the bunker if she wanted to. He thought she would stay for their relationship, but that had been damaged for a while now, obviously enough by him to drive her away. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't force her to stay. It was her choice—it always had been.

Without a word, Sam left, slamming the door on his way out. His hands trembled at his sides, his stomach sick. He stormed into the maps room, grabbing a random book on the table and throwing it against the wall. "Son of a bitch!" he shouted, more than heated.

Dean came into the room, concerned as he looked at Sam storming around. "I'd like to bring that fucker back from The Empty just so I could kill him again!" Sam snarled.

"Sam?" Dean asked gently.

Sam turned to his brother, eyes glassy. "She wants out. So …" He shrugged, his hand running over his mouth. "She's planning to stay with Jody until she 'figures things out.'"

Dean's brow furrowed as he processed Sam's news. "She still isn't safe, if she's pregnant."

"I know. Try telling her that. But what am I going to do, lock her in the dungeon?"

"It's not a bad idea."

Sam ignored Dean's comment. "I told her the truth, told her I wanted her to stay, told her I loved her, but she's leaving." He flopped into a chair, burying his head in his hands. "I wish I could kill that fucking grigori twenty times over."

Dean moved over to the space across the table from Sam, angry instead of empathetic. "You need to fight for her. You've been pissing around on the sidelines for weeks now. If you let her go, you'll lose her forever. I hope you know that."

"Sam?"

Both brothers turned to Rachel's soft voice as she timidly stepped toward them. Sam's eyes raked over her, his chest tightening as he took in her form in skinny jeans, boots, and one his plaid shirts hanging loosely over a tight camisole, focusing on the duffel bag slung over her shoulder. "A car is, um, picking me up for the bus in a few minutes. But … can we talk?" she asked.

Dean cleared his throat, backing out of the room with a small nod. Sam stood; he couldn't take his eyes off of her, pained as he drank her in. She rested her bag on the floor and stepped up in front of him, reaching out and stroking his cheek. "Things can never go backward, as much as I want them to," she began, tracing over his stubble. "I … I wish we could erase all this. But we can't. And I can't see how it's fair to you to keep you in this mess. You deserve an uncomplicated woman."

"I want you," Sam replied, taking her by the waist and drawing her to himself with a rough pull. He ran his hand up to sink into her thick waves, the other gripping her backside. "I just want you. That's all that matters to me."

"Sam, I was broken when you first met me. Now I'm even messier."

His face was somewhere between angry and determined as he pulled her toward the table. "I'm the King of Baggage. We have issues-so what? I don't give a shit. We will work through it. But you're not running away from me." His inky tone sent a shiver up her spine. "I swear it to you, Rachel, if it takes me the rest of my damn life to drill it into you, I will. I don't want someone else. I. Want. You." She tried to shy away from him, but he held her in place. He shook his head, his thumbs running over her cheeks. "I love you. And I'll be damned if you try to shove me into someone else's arms." His jaw ticked as he examined her. "You're mine, remember? Mine. You're not going anywhere. And neither am I."

"I am going, Sam," Rachel said. "I know that this is best, even if you don't think it is. You need to focus on your mom and Jack, not on me and a problem that isn't yours. And certainly not on one you're wrongfully blaming yourself for."

"How can I focus on them when I'll be worried sick about you? When I'll miss you and want you here?" He tightened his grip. "Call off the ride."

Her eyes clouded with tears. "Please don't, Sam," she whispered. "I can't stay. I was never meant to. All you and Dean and Cas have done for me … I can never thank you enough. But you need to let me go. You have more important things to do than to worry about me."

"I can't. I won't." Sam pressed his lips onto Rachel's, swallowing her whimpered call of his name. His gentle, but commanding touch was soothing, familiar. His quiet control brought undeniable warmth. She drank it in, closing her eyes as Sam's mouth descended down her neck and to the juncture of her shoulder. "I won't let you go," he rasped, pressing her against himself, "because you're mine."

Rachel pushed out of Sam's grip, tears escaping. He swallowed, his heart twisting as he realized she was determined, not to be moved. "Baby girl," he breathed, "stay. Stay with me."

A car horn sounded outside, faintly heard through the front door of the bunker. Sam's pulse raced, and he grabbed her arms as she moved for her bag. "Rachel, please," he pleaded. "Let me care for you."

"I love you, Sam," she said, her breath shaky as she slipped out of his grip. "Please tell Dean and Cas I said goodbye."

Sam felt glued to the floor as he watched Rachel pick up her bag. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're a good man," she whispered. "You deserve the best."

His stomach wrenched as he watched her walk up the stairs, then quietly slip outside and shut the door behind herself.

"She left?" Dean shouted incredulously as he came back in after hearing the door close, eyes wide as he looked at Sam. "Dude! Go after her!"

Sam wet his lips, shaking his head. "I can't, Dean. It's what she wants."

Dean scoffed, clearly upset. "Son of a bitch, Sam. She was perfect for you. And you let her walk away."

"What the hell was I supposed to do?" Sam shot back. "I begged. I pleaded. She wants to go. So …" He bit his bottom lip, turning away from Dean. "So whatever."

Dean shook his head. "Unbelievable."

"And what do you think I could've done to change her mind?" Sam challenged, pulse racing. "Huh? What magic thing did I leave out?"

"I don't know, Sam, but you let her walk out that door," Dean replied, eyeing his brother. "So when you're sulking around here, hating life because you lost an incredible girl, you remember that you let her go. Alright? Because I'll be damned if I let you get off easy on this one." Dean stepped up closer. "She left because of you. Because you were too afraid to care for her. She probably spent weeks in that room thinking she was a burden from how you treated her."

"Don't you dare," Sam warned, closing the gap, nostrils flared. "I did everything I could for her."

"Did you?" Dean shot back. "Did you talk to her? Did you tell her you loved her, no matter what? Or did you save that for when she was already convinced you didn't give a shit? Because, as I recall, you had Cas do everything for you."

Sam's fist knocked with quick strength across Dean's jaw, his eyes wild as he punched his brother. Dean laughed, spitting out the blood from this cut lip onto the floor. "Go ahead," he challenged. "Take another shot, Sammy. I'll let you have one more out of pity for your stupid, sorry ass."

With an angry shove, Sam pushed the table away from himself, knocking over a chair as he stormed back to his room. Dean growled as he kicked the chair, sliding it further away from the table as he tore off in the opposite direction, cursing Sam under his breath.