It'd been Rachel's suggestion they stop for the night. It'd taken hours for them to get out of New Haven, to convince her grandfather that she was ready to go, her parents, to find a car, to break up yet another fight between Dean and her grandfather. She'd wanted to go, eager to see Nathan (and punch him), needing to see the cabin where she was found. Needing to be away from the smothering love her parents were heaping on her. They meant well, she knew that. And she knew they were trying not to smother her. And yet, it was too much.

She was used to the road now. Felt comfortable on it. But she hadn't thought ahead.

Because now it was time for bed. And while she and Dean have been sharing a bed since she'd been discovered in that cabin, this was the first time since she'd gotten her memory back. And they were alone. In a hotel room.

And Rachel wasn't sure she was ready to have sex.

She hadn't even thought that this might be a problem. She'd been too focused on remembering who she was and finding out what exactly had happened. But now, staring at the bed, dressed in a pair of Dean's boxers and a tank top, it felt as if the air was crushing around her. The expectation. She and Dean were married. They had sex a lot. They were newlyweds, after all, and sometimes it was like Rachel couldn't get enough of him.

But right now…

Dean came out of the bathroom, shirt off, jeans unbuttoned. Rachel watched out of the corner of her eyes as he went to the door and checked the protective barrier of salt before crossing to the windows to do the same. She laced her fingers together, squeezing her palms against one another and tried to take a deep breaths without being obvious.

The jeans came off. Dean folded them over once before tossing them onto the chair next to the bed. Then he crawled under the covers. Looked at Rachel.

Immediately, his face went from one of relaxed happiness to wary alertness. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. Tried to smile, but it came out a grimace.

"Rach." Dean pulled down the covers and ran his hand over the sheets. "Come on. I'm not going to bite."

"I know." Her heart was pounding. She climbed onto the bed.

Dean took her hand. "What's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm okay."

"Bullshit." He reached for Rachel's hand and gently untangled one. Engulfed it in his own large one, rubbing his calloused thumb over her finger. "This 'cause of what happened."

"Yeah."

He nodded. Swallowed. "I get it. I mean, you were… you know. Raped." He winced. Looked away. "It doesn't matter. To me. You know. I still, like, want you. Love you. I mean. It doesn't change. Anything."

Rachel nodded. Leaned her head against Dean's shoulder. "It's not… I just feel like. I don't know." She sighed. "I can't remember what happened. What snatches I think I remember are… nice. I wasn't scared, I wasn't in pain."

"I'd rather that than…"

"I know what you said, Dean," Rachel said, smiling softly. She wasn't sure she believed him, but if he needed to convince himself that it was okay if she cheated on him instead of just being… raped, he could. "But it's not that. Whether I was hurt or not, if the demon r-raped me or if I had an affair…"

"Didn't happen. It's not in you."

"Okay, so if I was under a spell or whatever. Even if I enjoyed it or something. The fact is my body did something and I don't remember it. It's like… It's like I lent someone a shirt or something, only instead of a shirt, it's ime/i. I'm the shirt. My body was borrowed by someone or something and it… it did something and I don't remember. I can't remember and I feel, I don't know. Betrayed. Like I can't trust it. Me. Like… like… I don't even know. Like I don't even belong in my body or something. Like it's a stranger and I just…" She closed her eyes, tears flowing down her cheeks.

Dean put his arm around Rachel. Pulled her to him and kissed her on top of her head. "I don't know what to do."

"Me neither."

"I'm not gonna, you know. Force you to have sex with me. Or pressure you."

"I know." She curled her legs under her. "I know you wouldn't. But it's not about that. It's not about you. I'm just… frustrated."

This time Dean didn't say anything. Just ran his fingers through her hair. Kissed her on the top of her head every few minutes.

After an eternity passed, Rachel let out a sigh. "This sucks."

"I'm with you."

"I wanted to be alone with you. I want to be with you. But I'm just all fucked up. You know? I just… I want to know what happened. I want my brother. I want to feel normal, but I don't know how that's ever going to happen."

"I think," Dean said, pulling away. "And just tell me I'm an idiot or whatever, but let's just… not worry about anything but, you know. Getting to the cabin. Getting you there. Cause that's what we're doing. Driving there. It's just late. We're tired. We're just here to sleep, and we've got that part down."

"We had the other part down, too. Before I disappeared, I thought we were pretty good." She looked up at him.

"We were awesome." Dean smiled down at her. Traced her mouth with his finger before lowering his face. Kissing her softly, mouth open.

She opened her mouth under his. Welcomed his tongue as it dipped into her mouth. Shivered as his hand stroked up her back, large and warm on her skin under her shirt.

Dean pulled away first. "Maybe we should go to sleep."

"No. I like this." Rachel wrapped her arms around Dean's neck. Pulled him on top of her as she lay back, bringing their mouths back together.

Except for the first few days of their marriage, Dean never had to be talked in to fooling around. He came willingly, propping himself above her so she wasn't smothered by his weight. One hand, as it always seemed to be, was tangled in her hair, pulling it away from her neck to it fanned out around her, then caressing her neck with his fingers so shivers ran down her.

And this was familiar. This she knew and her body knew and she felt almost in sync. Almost as if her body's betrayal hadn't happened, and it hadn't been off for two weeks doing God knows what.

Because Dean was over her and he was around her. She knew him and knew her body's reaction to him. She could control this, stop it if it got too far for her, or let it happen as she saw fit.

So they kissed and Rachel let her hands wander Dean's body, feeling the scars and the muscles and every bit of him that she knew and had explored before. Tried to let herself get lost in him and the sensation of his hands on her breasts and the feel of him pressing through his boxers, lying heavy and hard against her hip.

And she reached down and rubbed him through the thin material. Reached inside and grasped him as he shifted, giving her better access. And as she stroked him, relearning him and his weight, he tugged at her shorts. Tugged them off her legs and slid his fingers inside.

The both jerked at the same time, Rachel in discomfort and Dean in surprised.

"This is too much for you," he said, sitting up. He rubbed his eyes and pulled away. "I'm sorry, babe, I…"

"No. No, Dean it's not your fault. I was fine, I swear."

"You're not even wet. It's okay."

She shook her head, tears in her eyes again. "No. I was enjoying it, really. I…"

"Hey." He pulled her into his arms, making shushing noises and rubbing her back. "Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it."

"Dean…"

He sighed. Kissed her.

She pushed him away. "No, I just… It's unfair to stop there. To make you stop there. I can, you know. I can give you a blow job or something."

Dean shook his head. He looked tired, pain in his eyes evident, even though he was trying to hide it. Be stoic. Comforting, when she knew how much it killed him to have a member of his family hurt.

To have her hurt.

"I'm not in the mood, Rach. I'm still in the… you know. Thinking about you mode. Worrying about you. Wanting to make sure you're okay."

"It's not sex I'm afraid of. It's not you I'm afraid of. It's me. It's trying to remember how this all fits."

He nods. "I get that. I do. But just, you know. Until you fit again, let's not worry about how I fit. In you. Um. With you. Or whatever. You lead me. And, tonight, you led me as far as we're going tonight. As far as you're ready."

He was right. She knew that. She'd known that from the moment that she'd taken him in hand that she wasn't ready to go that far. Not tonight.

She put her hand on his cheek. Kissed him. "I love you, Dean."

"I know," he said, giving her a smile. "And I know that we're going to work this out. I ain't worried. We're gonna get through this."

She hugged him, clinging to him and his belief. She needed that strength right now. She needed him.