i It was dark. Cold. Night. Rain pattered outside, trickled in, soaking through her jeans. Her ankle throbbed; she couldn't move it. No matter how much she tugged, it remained wedged firmly in the crevice between the rocks. Her body was one huge aching bruise littered with scratches. Dirt caked her skin and clothes, twigs and leaves were in her hair.

At least the screaming had stopped. Small comfort, considering what that meant.

She shifted her body, seeking a comfortable position. No matter how she moved, it seemed that she just rolled onto another hurt.

A leaf cracked at the mouth of the cave. Footsteps.

Her heart leapt to her throat.

"Rachel?"

She knew that voice.

Light. The golden glow from a flashlight bathed her.

A man knelt in front of her. His face came into view. /i

Rachel woke with a gasp. Her heart was pounding, sweat slicked her skin. When she tried for another breath, she couldn't get it in. Her throat was closed. She couldn't breathe.

"Rachel? Rachel, breathe. Baby, you need to breathe."

She shook her head.

Dean's face swam into focus in front of her. His hands wrapped around her wrists and he held her safe. "Breathe, Rachel." He demonstrated by drawing a deep, slow breath through his nose.

Still shaking her head, she followed his example. Oxygen filled her lungs, taking her by surprise. She coughed. Panted. Took another shaky breath.

"Don't scare me like that," Dean said. Snapped, really. He pulled her to him and held her tight, face buried in her hair.

"S-sorry." She couldn't stop shaking.

Dean sighed. Kissed her hair. Down her face before pressing his face into her neck.

She let out another shaky breath and relaxed into his embrace. Maybe she didn't remember him, but she trusted him. He made her feel safe. Secure, and she needed it, adrift as she was. Needed something to cling to so she didn't wash away.

"Want to tell me what happened?" he asked after her breathing had returned to normal and trembling had died down. He pulled back and touched her cheek.

"I don't know." Eyes closed, she leaned into his touch. "I was dreaming."

His hand dropped to her wrist and he squeezed. "About what?" he asked, voice level.

Rachel closed her eyes, trying to remember. The dream was fleeing in wisps, tantalizing and dark. She tried to grasp them. "I don't... I was somewhere dark. A cave? It was cold, I was cold. And my ankle." Her eyes flew open. "My ankle was hurt."

"Yeah, the doctor said it was sprained. Not bad."

"It was caught. Stuck in something. I couldn't get it out." She frowned. Licked her bottom lip. "I think... I think maybe the troll got me."

Dean frowned. "But... Well, no offense, sweetheart, but if the troll got you two weeks ago, you'd be dead."

She pulled away. Crossed her arms over her chest. "What? I can't take care of myself?"

"Rach, it's not that..."

"If I'm no good, what was I doing out there in the first place?"

"Recon. Trying to figure things out, getting it all ready for me and Sam. That's what you're best at. Gathering information and facts, drawing conclusions."

"And that's all I'm good for."

Dean's jaw tightened and he looked away, not quite rolling his eyes but close to. "Look," he said, voice sharp. "You can fight, you can defend yourself. You can do it, all right? You've done it, you've saved my ass before and Sam's and your own. But... this isn't a job for a solitary person. That's all. Especially not..."

"A girl," she finished for him.

"My wife," he countered, eyes flashing.

She cocked an eyebrow.

He sighed. "Dad, Sammy, and I worked together until Sam went to school. Then it was Dad and me. And when Dad took off, I went and grabbed Sam. Even I try not to do this alone." Dean traced her jaw with his thumb. "If I got caught by a troll, got taken back to its lair, and no one knew where I was, then I'm pretty sure my number would be up. The troll didn't get you. It was just a dream."

"Unless." She stopped talking. Bit her bruised bottom lip.

"Unless what?"

"Unless... unless I was caught and it's the demon that got me out."

She could tell by the look on Dean's face that he hadn't considered that. His brow furrowed and he mouth opened and closed a few times without forming any words.

"Hey," Sam said from the doorway, two familiar strangers behind him. "Um, Rachel, your parents are here."

The strangers came quickly inside. The man, her father, sat nearest her at the head of the bed and pulled her into him. Her mother came around the other side of the bed.

"I'm sorry, baby," her father whispered, rocking her back and forth. "I know you don't remember us, but we've been so worried. Christ."

She shook her head, clutching his shirt in her fist. She didn't remember them, but she remembered i this /i . His arms and his smell. The way it felt to rest her cheek against his arm.

"Daddy?" she said tentatively, not sure that was right.

He kissed the top of her head, then pulled away. "How are you feeling?" he asked, big hands framing her face.

"I don't know. Confused." She glanced over at her mother, who was teary eyed and pale. "I don't... I mean, I know you. Both of you. But I can't remember anything. Nothing specific."

"It's okay. We're going to figure this out." He wiped away a tear that was sliding down her cheek, and glanced at her mother.

"As soon as they released you, we're going to take you home," her mother said. "The doctor said that being in a familiar setting might trigger your memories."

"Is Dean coming?" she asked.

"Of course." Her mother reached out and touched her cheek with a gentle touch. "We want you to be comfortable and we want to help you remember who you are. Dean's part of that."

"And, maybe, after you're feeling better, the two of you might decide to have that wedding," her father added, tweaking her nose.

Tears stung her eyes. "Right."

His face fell. "I'm sorry, Rachel. I was only teasing. I should have..." He sighed and got off the bed. Walked to the wall and leaned against it.

"It's okay," she said, wiping a tear that fell. "I mean, I don't..." She glanced at Dean and blushed. "I hardly know you."

Dean shrugged. Reached out for her hand, which she gave him. "It'd be good for you to go home. It's a huge house with, like, a billion rooms. Almost a castle, really, which suits you. You know, like a princess."

A bolt of horror went through her. She jerked away, slamming into her mother, who was still behind her.

Dean went the opposite way, jumping off the bed. His feet had hardly hit the ground before his brother smacked him on the back of the head.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"What do you think, moron?" Sam practically hissed. He pinched Dean's arm, causing him to yelp.

He gave his brother a wide-armed 'what' sign before his face lit with understanding. "Ah, Christ. I'm sorry, baby. I wasn't thinking. I'm..."

"I don't even remember!" she cried, out of bed now and pressed into the corner of the room. "I don't remember anything! I can't and I..." She sank into the corner, legs drawn to her chest. She pressed her forehead against her knees and began to sob.

"Shhh," her mother soothed.

Rachel was wrapped in a pair of familiar, comforting arms. Rocked and petted and caressed.

"Mom, I just want to go home."

"I know." She kissed Rachel's head and held her. "As soon as you're released, we're all going to fly back to Connecticut. You might not remember it, but it will be familiar. And maybe things will come back to you and you'll start relaxing. It will get better, baby. I promise."

"We'll figure this out, Rachel." Dean now, right in front of her. Patient and contrite and hesitant. "I swear."

She lifted her head and blinked tears away. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for." His lips quirked. "Me, on the other hand. My foot lives in my mouth when I'm around with you."

"Well. They say communication is the foundation of any good marriage. Even if you have to articulate around your foot."

"I'm sorry. I should have thought."

Rachel gave him a half smile, tears still sliding out of her eyes unbidden. "It's okay. I... I didn't know I'd react like that."

He took it. Squeezed. "Keep on reacting to anything. The more you do, the more we can maybe piece together what happened, right?"

"Right."

"Rachel Winchester?" a new voice said.

"Come on, honey," her mom said, helping her to her feet.

A nurse was in the doorway, wheelchair in front of him.

"Okay." She glanced at her father, then mother. "Are you two going to come?"

"Of course." Her dad came across the room and took her hand.

"How about I give you some time alone with your folks?" Dean said, his thumb caressing over the palm of the hand he was holding.

Fear gripped her; she hadn't been out of Dean's company since he'd first arrived at the hospital. He was the one thing she knew, and the one person she trusted implicitly.

But she couldn't cling to him forever. And she did know these were her parents. So, she nodded. "Okay."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek, then her lips. "I'll be right here waiting for you when you get back. I promise."

Every time he was this close, she was reminded of how incredibly beautiful he was. He made her blush and feel hot all over, and all he had to do was look at her. "Okay," she whispered, feeling as if she were on fire.

Dean let go of her and let her father lead her to the wheelchair. His gorgeous eyes were locked on hers as she sat down and was wheeled out of the room. When he was out of sight, she couldn't help feeling bereft. Cut adrift. But, since she'd been given every indication that before all of this, she'd been a strong person, she took a deep breath, squeezed her daddy's hand, and did her best to be strong.