A Very Supernatural Journey Chapter 10
A birthday story for Enkidu07, co-creator and co-manager of the E/O Drabble Challenge Community on Fanfiction.net.
by womanofletters, theymp, mainegirlwrites and wynefred
Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]
Summary: These chicks know how to make a loud noise...
This chapter written by womanofletters
Chapter 10: Too Many Ducks in the Pond
X X X
Curled next to Dean, his scent and the feeling of his body imprinting themselves on her psyche, Rachelle finally felt able to face the $64,000 question.
"So what now?" she said. "We just... go to ground? I stay indoors, never run the tap, never take a shower?" She wrinkled her nose and ran one hand through her long, blond hair, already showing signs of dry scalp. She remembered her Mer lecturing her (with a twinkle in her eyes) about her showers being a little too long - she did love a hot shower - and felt a pang, missing her friend greatly.
"Not forever," Dean said, "just until we gank this sonovabitch."
"Yeah, but that could take days... and there's Mer, and all my friends... How do we protect them? Tell them not to bathe?" Rachelle thought the whole thing sounded crazy. "And what happens when classes start back up. I can't follow them around all day, and I can't lock them in a box!" The image of the padded box flashed through her mind, only this time it was bigger, with Mer, Amy and Shawna locked inside as well.
"I've been thinking about it," said Sam, "and there's a line of research I'd like to pursue. Something that I'm hoping will help us find this monster before he tracks you down." He pulled out his laptop and set it on the table in the kitchenette.
"Great! Where do we start?" Rachelle asked.
"It's just the beginnings of an idea, Rachelle. There's nothing to help with yet. I know it's hard, but just relax... I don't know, play cards with Dean or something, get some sleep..." Sam turned his attention to his laptop and was soon lost in his research.
Dean grinned. "So... what's your game, Rachelle? Texas holdem? Seven-card hold-em?" Rachelle blushed, because her mind had answered: strip poker. He quirked his eyebrows arrogantly and got out the cards. His stiff movements when he pulled the coffee table closer to the couch made her remember her vision.
"Wait..."
"Yeah?"
"Before we start," she said, "let me check your ribs."
"Not again, woman... Is this some conspiracy to get me naked?" he grumbled. "Cause there are easier ways!"
"This is something I can do," she said, "You're taking care of me; let me do the same. Now..." she ordered, a teasing gleam in her eyes. "into the bathroom and strip off that shirt!"
"Well..." he said with a sly smile, "Can't refuse a lady's command, can I?"
X X X
The man was a work of art, Rachelle decided, as she ran her hands over Dean's chest, feeling gingerly for signs of injury. Staying professional was even harder this time. Her eyes kept lingering on certain parts of his anatomy, going too low, and she had to stop herself before her thoughts started going places they shouldn't.
"Like what you see?" he said.
She licked her lips and her heart skipped a beat. Damn, that man doesn't miss a thing. But then he is a hunter...Trained to notice everything, of course her extracurricular ogling hadn't escaped his attention.
"And what if I do?" she quipped. She stopped for a moment, her hands in the middle of his chest, the very place she had seen in the vision. "Does this hurt?" she asked, but his wince of pain told her all she needed to know.
"Damn it, Dean, what good is this if you keep injuring your ribs?" she scolded, as she went once more for the tape. He just gave her a shrug, grimacing at the movement, as if to say that there was no good answer. She supposed with a sigh, there really wasn't. He would do what he had to do, no matter what the cost.
When he'd taken the deep breath and she was in the middle of taping, leaning over his chest, her face close to his, he whispered, "We don't have to play poker, ya know." His breath tickled her ear and she shivered slightly. "There are other ways to pass the time."
"Keep your lungs full," she reminded him. Then she stepped back and looked at her handiwork. The taping was good, she thought, and found herself staring longer than necessary. It was like taking a lick of candy; one was never enough. She brought her eyes up and his eyes were on hers. She found herself moving closer, without thinking, and his head bent over hers.
Just then, there was a loud knock on the front door and they both jumped.
"Shit!" Dean swore, and Rachelle couldn't have agreed more. He'd just been about to kiss her, she was sure. They came out of the room, Dean pulling on his t-shirt.
Sam stood beside his computer, alert and with gun ready. Rachelle glanced at Dean, who nodded his permission and followed her to the door with his gun drawn. She looked through the peephole.
"It's Mer!" she said, "And Amy and Shawna are with her."
Dean put the gun away. "Great, here come the Scoobies..." he muttered. He shot Sam a look of exasperation. This problem was getting out of control.
X X X
Dean wondered what other surprises this case was going to throw at them now. Wasn't it enough that he couldn't find the key to destroying the monster, that it slipped through his fingers like water, that he couldn't protect the girl?
And he could tell that Rachelle was keyed up, nervous and twitchy, her back rigid with tension. He should be comforting her, damnit, getting her to relax, and then they could figure out how to stop Frankenfish once and for all. Instead, he had to keep the Scoobies off her back... Damn amateurs, always getting in the way...
When Rachelle opened the door, Meredith just stood there, her straight, shoulder length brown hair looking as if it'd just come out of a freakin' beauty parlor. The woman had dressed up, put on a nice pair of jeans and eye makeup, though it couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes... Dean's eyes narrowed. She wanted something. What was she up to?
Dean glared at Meredith and pointedly remained where he was, arms folded across his chest. The woman raised her eyebrows but otherwise didn't react. She smiled at Rachelle.
"Hey, do you mind if we come in?" Meredith said.
"Uh, no," said Rachelle, although clearly she was uncomfortable. Rachelle moved aside, making room for Meredith, Amy and Shawna to come in. Dean stood motionless by Rachelle's side, waiting to hear what the woman had to say.
Meredith stepped in front of Dean and pulled Rachelle into a hug. Mer noticed how half-hearted her friend's response was, as if Rachelle didn't know how to react. It was so unlike Rachelle's normal behavior.
Mer's heart ached for her friend. Only four days ago, she had joked with Rachelle in this very apartment. Now she didn't know how to bridge the growing gulf between them. Rachelle's behavior puzzled her, bothered her, ate away at her peace of mind. She had become so secretive, barely around, spending all of her time with two guys whose story Mer didn't exactly buy. Never mind the crazy tale of hunting demons and travel between universes that Rachelle had tried to tell her the other night. Even the story of those two being FBI agents didn't ring true.
As she hugged Rachelle, she was filled with fresh determination to protect her friend. She glared at Dean over Rachelle's shoulder, triumph and warning in her expression. She seemed to be saying: This girl is mine, I have her now, and I won't let you hurt her.
Dean's back stiffened in response and he squared his shoulders. Who did this bitch think she was? Then Meredith stepped back again, brushing her hair out of her face.
Rachelle sought to defuse the hostile undercurrent between Dean and Mer. "So, Dean, Sam...I know you've met my friend Meredith...Let me introduce Amy and Shawna," she said, pointing to her friends in turn. "Amy, Shawna, this is Dean and Sam... uh, I mean Agent Brody and Agent Hooper."
Sam came forward from where he'd been standing, as ever the diplomat. "Why don't you guys all sit down on the sofa and we can talk?" he said.
"Good idea," Shawna said, her husky voice filling the uncomfortable silence. "But it looks like no one's taking you up on it." And sure enough, no one was moving. Dean and Meredith were still in the same positions, staring at each other, and neither would budge.
Shawna glanced over at the agent who had just come over and stopped for a moment, caught by the sight of him staring back at her. She'd been so intent on the power struggle between Meredith and the angry-looking agent that she hadn't really noticed his partner standing in the back. The man was tall, maybe three inches taller than her, and he was cute... with slightly long brown hair, those broad shoulders and that face that screamed "trust me"... Okay, he was at least an 8 on the hotness scale. And he was looking right at her. Staring at her... as if she were some kind of fascinating exhibit in a museum.
A bit dazed, she extended her hand. "I'm Shawna," she said, "Rachelle's friend," then felt foolish because of course, he knew that.
Sam blanked for a moment on the names he and Dean were using. "Uh... Agent Hooper," he took her hand. "FBI... but you can call me 'Sam'." Blushing, aware that this might seem too forward, Sam felt caught by her gaze. Reluctantly, he dropped her hand.
Amy watched all of this with interest, but neither Meredith nor Dean noticed Sam or Shawna, so deeply entrenched were they in their own duel of wills. Finally, Meredith broke the stalemate. Looking directly into Rachelle's eyes, she said, "So earlier today, your friend here said you were in danger." She motioned towards Dean. It was clear by the way she said "friend" that she thought he was anything but. "He said something about a killer being after you?"
"Uh huh, but you don't need to worry, Mer. Dean... I mean Agent Brody here, and Agent Hooper, are protecting me," Rachelle said.
Dean stepped forward and put his arm around Rachelle protectively. "That's right," he said. "We won't let anything happen to Rachelle. We're gonna catch that sonofabitch." His voice had taken on a hard edge, his eyes a dangerous glint.
Meredith caught her breath. This guy looked dangerous, out of control. Could she really trust Rachelle's safety to this... loose cannon?
"Right... That's why we came here," Meredith said. "We're offering our help. We're Rachelle's friends. We're not gonna sit on our hands while some killer targets her."
As if to echo her friend's statement, Amy threw her small arms around Rachelle's waist, in a hug that was as fierce as a bear's. Rachelle smiled, cheered by the warmth of her friend's embrace, and returned the hug. When Amy finally let go, Rachelle took in her friend's white peasant blouse and flowery skirt, and the matching bright teal blue nail polish on her fingers and toes. She was oddly comforted by the normalcy of it all. Even in a life-and-death situation, Amy can stay cheerful and fashionable,she thought, and wondered how her friend did it.
Dean blinked, his eyes drawn to Amy's blue nailpolish. Electric blue? Really? he wondered. One part of his mind noticed how her blouse and skirt clung to her curves. And if she didn't remind him of a little kid skipping along and he wasn't liking Rachelle so much, well... He shoved the thought out of his mind. At least she made Rachelle smile, he thought.
But Dean felt his anger rise when she said, "Ninny, do you think we'd let you face this thing alone?"
"She's not alone," Dean growled.
"But she's not with friends, either!" the girl snapped, stepping back next to Meredith and glaring at Dean.
Rachelle put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Calm down," she said, "They only want to help me."
"I'm trying to keep you safe," he said, "and they're making my job harder." He turned to Sam. "Back me up on this, Sam..."
"Uh-huh," his brother said distractedly.
Dean noticed that his brother was staring... at that tall redhead, Shawna. And she was staring back. What the hell? He glared at Sam. We need to get rid of these chicks, bro... get your head into the game, he thought, at the same time realizing just how satisfying it would be to tease his brother later.
Dean poked Sam. "Sam, help me out here."
Sam blinked, realizing that Dean was waiting for a response from him. He tried to get himself back into the moment. "Look, we appreciate that you care about Rachelle," Sam said, "but you need to trust us... The best way you can help is to let us do our job." He was using his most reasonable tone, but Dean could hear an edge underlying his brother's usual patience. The case must be getting on his nerves, too.
"Really?" Shawna put her hands on her hips and addressed her comments directly to Sam. She gestured broadly with her hands, as if the motions made her point stronger. "Hate to disagree, Mr. FBI, but there are things we can do that you guys can't."
Shawna began to pace the floor, moving quickly, and she was talking a mile a minute. Dean was getting a headache just watching her. Sam was staring at the woman, enraptured, while she continued her monologue.
"We can keep Rachelle's mind off this psycho, for one thing, leaving you two to focus on hunting him down. There are a few of us, so we can take turns staying with her, or whatever you decide is best..."
Sam smiled and his dimples showed. No, he's not an 8, Shawna thought. Make that 9 on the hotness scale.
"Go on..." Sam said. "What else can you do?" He seemed amused, which annoyed Shawna just a little. She was dead serious, after all. His partner looked more and more perturbed, and Shawna guessed he was wishing they'd all just disappear. He'd as much as said so.
Shawna tried to gather her scattered thoughts. "Well..." She cleared her throat. "I was going to say we could be your eyes and ears on campus. We can find out what we can... "
"Absolutely not!" That was from Rachelle. "I don't want anyone else putting themselves in danger..."
"But Shawna's right," said Amy. "We can at least keep our ears to the ground.. We don't have to do anything dangerous."
"Not only that," said Mer, "maybe we can give you ideas - but we need to know what's going on."
Amy said, "Right... like why is this creep targeting Rachelle?"
Shawna said, "And what are we going to do about it?"
Meredith looked as stubborn as a bull as she crossed her arms and said, "We are not leaving until you tell us everything..."
Rachelle looked around the room at all the determined faces surrounding her. She found herself awed by her friends' bravery and support. While she'd been worried about keeping them safe, they'd been plotting to put themselves in the thick of this messed-up situation. The ridiculousness of it struck her and she began to laugh. It started out as small, hysterical giggles, turned into louder chuckles, then became body-shaking belly laughs. She almost slipped out of Dean's arms with the force of her laughter and tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"I... I need to sit down," she said, and Dean helped her to the couch. He was looking down at her with concern... Her laughter unnerved him, she guessed. She sat there, gasping, trying to calm down, but the laughter kept coming and she couldn't seem to turn it off.
"Oh... don't worry," Amy said, "She does this all the time. The thing to do is make some tea. It always calms her down."
Rachelle's breath caught and her laughter turned into hiccups. "No, no, I'm okay," she gasped.
Dean brought over a bottle of water, and she took a sip. She could feel herself calming down.
Finally, when she could talk more normally, she looked beseechingly at her friends. "Uh, guys, I need to talk to the agents in private. Can you give us a minute?
Meredith and the others walked away from the couch, giving them some space.
Her voice pitched low, Rachelle said, "Dean, Sam... We should tell them."
Dean stared at her, unsure of what to say. He'd never expected this from Rachelle. "What? Are you crazy?" Dean said. "This ain't The Brady Bunch, babe. It's not some crazy sitcom where everything turns out roses!"
Sam nodded. "He's right, Rachelle. That's probably the worst thing you could do."
"Besides," Dean said, "They'll never believe you."
Rachelle looked at him, pleading for understanding. "They're my best friends, Dean. I can't keep lying to them."
Dean and Sam looked at each other and it seemed for a minute that Dean might yield, might yet agree to share the secret of who he was with outsiders.
Shawna, who was watching from across the room, knew the argument was about whether or not to share the truth. She'd had enough of secrecy; she'd heard Rachelle's improbable tale from Mer, but was more open to the possibility that Rachelle was not having some kind of weird breakdown.
So when there she saw a lull in the conversation, she sat down next to Rachelle, rubbing her friend's shoulders. "Rachelle... I'm curious." She smiled, the smile of someone who loves to stir the pot. "Tell us about these demons your friends fight. And how that relates to the trouble you're in now."
Shawna's words felt like a knife in Dean's back. He glared at Rachelle, anger at her betrayal plain on his face. "What the hell?" he shouted. "Rachelle, what did you tell them?"
X X X
Read Chapter 11: Muddy Waters
by womanofletters, theymp, mainegirlwrites and wynefred
Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9]
Summary: These chicks know how to make a loud noise...
This chapter written by womanofletters
Chapter 10: Too Many Ducks in the Pond
X X X
Curled next to Dean, his scent and the feeling of his body imprinting themselves on her psyche, Rachelle finally felt able to face the $64,000 question.
"So what now?" she said. "We just... go to ground? I stay indoors, never run the tap, never take a shower?" She wrinkled her nose and ran one hand through her long, blond hair, already showing signs of dry scalp. She remembered her Mer lecturing her (with a twinkle in her eyes) about her showers being a little too long - she did love a hot shower - and felt a pang, missing her friend greatly.
"Not forever," Dean said, "just until we gank this sonovabitch."
"Yeah, but that could take days... and there's Mer, and all my friends... How do we protect them? Tell them not to bathe?" Rachelle thought the whole thing sounded crazy. "And what happens when classes start back up. I can't follow them around all day, and I can't lock them in a box!" The image of the padded box flashed through her mind, only this time it was bigger, with Mer, Amy and Shawna locked inside as well.
"I've been thinking about it," said Sam, "and there's a line of research I'd like to pursue. Something that I'm hoping will help us find this monster before he tracks you down." He pulled out his laptop and set it on the table in the kitchenette.
"Great! Where do we start?" Rachelle asked.
"It's just the beginnings of an idea, Rachelle. There's nothing to help with yet. I know it's hard, but just relax... I don't know, play cards with Dean or something, get some sleep..." Sam turned his attention to his laptop and was soon lost in his research.
Dean grinned. "So... what's your game, Rachelle? Texas holdem? Seven-card hold-em?" Rachelle blushed, because her mind had answered: strip poker. He quirked his eyebrows arrogantly and got out the cards. His stiff movements when he pulled the coffee table closer to the couch made her remember her vision.
"Wait..."
"Yeah?"
"Before we start," she said, "let me check your ribs."
"Not again, woman... Is this some conspiracy to get me naked?" he grumbled. "Cause there are easier ways!"
"This is something I can do," she said, "You're taking care of me; let me do the same. Now..." she ordered, a teasing gleam in her eyes. "into the bathroom and strip off that shirt!"
"Well..." he said with a sly smile, "Can't refuse a lady's command, can I?"
X X X
The man was a work of art, Rachelle decided, as she ran her hands over Dean's chest, feeling gingerly for signs of injury. Staying professional was even harder this time. Her eyes kept lingering on certain parts of his anatomy, going too low, and she had to stop herself before her thoughts started going places they shouldn't.
"Like what you see?" he said.
She licked her lips and her heart skipped a beat. Damn, that man doesn't miss a thing. But then he is a hunter...Trained to notice everything, of course her extracurricular ogling hadn't escaped his attention.
"And what if I do?" she quipped. She stopped for a moment, her hands in the middle of his chest, the very place she had seen in the vision. "Does this hurt?" she asked, but his wince of pain told her all she needed to know.
"Damn it, Dean, what good is this if you keep injuring your ribs?" she scolded, as she went once more for the tape. He just gave her a shrug, grimacing at the movement, as if to say that there was no good answer. She supposed with a sigh, there really wasn't. He would do what he had to do, no matter what the cost.
When he'd taken the deep breath and she was in the middle of taping, leaning over his chest, her face close to his, he whispered, "We don't have to play poker, ya know." His breath tickled her ear and she shivered slightly. "There are other ways to pass the time."
"Keep your lungs full," she reminded him. Then she stepped back and looked at her handiwork. The taping was good, she thought, and found herself staring longer than necessary. It was like taking a lick of candy; one was never enough. She brought her eyes up and his eyes were on hers. She found herself moving closer, without thinking, and his head bent over hers.
Just then, there was a loud knock on the front door and they both jumped.
"Shit!" Dean swore, and Rachelle couldn't have agreed more. He'd just been about to kiss her, she was sure. They came out of the room, Dean pulling on his t-shirt.
Sam stood beside his computer, alert and with gun ready. Rachelle glanced at Dean, who nodded his permission and followed her to the door with his gun drawn. She looked through the peephole.
"It's Mer!" she said, "And Amy and Shawna are with her."
Dean put the gun away. "Great, here come the Scoobies..." he muttered. He shot Sam a look of exasperation. This problem was getting out of control.
X X X
Dean wondered what other surprises this case was going to throw at them now. Wasn't it enough that he couldn't find the key to destroying the monster, that it slipped through his fingers like water, that he couldn't protect the girl?
And he could tell that Rachelle was keyed up, nervous and twitchy, her back rigid with tension. He should be comforting her, damnit, getting her to relax, and then they could figure out how to stop Frankenfish once and for all. Instead, he had to keep the Scoobies off her back... Damn amateurs, always getting in the way...
When Rachelle opened the door, Meredith just stood there, her straight, shoulder length brown hair looking as if it'd just come out of a freakin' beauty parlor. The woman had dressed up, put on a nice pair of jeans and eye makeup, though it couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes... Dean's eyes narrowed. She wanted something. What was she up to?
Dean glared at Meredith and pointedly remained where he was, arms folded across his chest. The woman raised her eyebrows but otherwise didn't react. She smiled at Rachelle.
"Hey, do you mind if we come in?" Meredith said.
"Uh, no," said Rachelle, although clearly she was uncomfortable. Rachelle moved aside, making room for Meredith, Amy and Shawna to come in. Dean stood motionless by Rachelle's side, waiting to hear what the woman had to say.
Meredith stepped in front of Dean and pulled Rachelle into a hug. Mer noticed how half-hearted her friend's response was, as if Rachelle didn't know how to react. It was so unlike Rachelle's normal behavior.
Mer's heart ached for her friend. Only four days ago, she had joked with Rachelle in this very apartment. Now she didn't know how to bridge the growing gulf between them. Rachelle's behavior puzzled her, bothered her, ate away at her peace of mind. She had become so secretive, barely around, spending all of her time with two guys whose story Mer didn't exactly buy. Never mind the crazy tale of hunting demons and travel between universes that Rachelle had tried to tell her the other night. Even the story of those two being FBI agents didn't ring true.
As she hugged Rachelle, she was filled with fresh determination to protect her friend. She glared at Dean over Rachelle's shoulder, triumph and warning in her expression. She seemed to be saying: This girl is mine, I have her now, and I won't let you hurt her.
Dean's back stiffened in response and he squared his shoulders. Who did this bitch think she was? Then Meredith stepped back again, brushing her hair out of her face.
Rachelle sought to defuse the hostile undercurrent between Dean and Mer. "So, Dean, Sam...I know you've met my friend Meredith...Let me introduce Amy and Shawna," she said, pointing to her friends in turn. "Amy, Shawna, this is Dean and Sam... uh, I mean Agent Brody and Agent Hooper."
Sam came forward from where he'd been standing, as ever the diplomat. "Why don't you guys all sit down on the sofa and we can talk?" he said.
"Good idea," Shawna said, her husky voice filling the uncomfortable silence. "But it looks like no one's taking you up on it." And sure enough, no one was moving. Dean and Meredith were still in the same positions, staring at each other, and neither would budge.
Shawna glanced over at the agent who had just come over and stopped for a moment, caught by the sight of him staring back at her. She'd been so intent on the power struggle between Meredith and the angry-looking agent that she hadn't really noticed his partner standing in the back. The man was tall, maybe three inches taller than her, and he was cute... with slightly long brown hair, those broad shoulders and that face that screamed "trust me"... Okay, he was at least an 8 on the hotness scale. And he was looking right at her. Staring at her... as if she were some kind of fascinating exhibit in a museum.
A bit dazed, she extended her hand. "I'm Shawna," she said, "Rachelle's friend," then felt foolish because of course, he knew that.
Sam blanked for a moment on the names he and Dean were using. "Uh... Agent Hooper," he took her hand. "FBI... but you can call me 'Sam'." Blushing, aware that this might seem too forward, Sam felt caught by her gaze. Reluctantly, he dropped her hand.
Amy watched all of this with interest, but neither Meredith nor Dean noticed Sam or Shawna, so deeply entrenched were they in their own duel of wills. Finally, Meredith broke the stalemate. Looking directly into Rachelle's eyes, she said, "So earlier today, your friend here said you were in danger." She motioned towards Dean. It was clear by the way she said "friend" that she thought he was anything but. "He said something about a killer being after you?"
"Uh huh, but you don't need to worry, Mer. Dean... I mean Agent Brody here, and Agent Hooper, are protecting me," Rachelle said.
Dean stepped forward and put his arm around Rachelle protectively. "That's right," he said. "We won't let anything happen to Rachelle. We're gonna catch that sonofabitch." His voice had taken on a hard edge, his eyes a dangerous glint.
Meredith caught her breath. This guy looked dangerous, out of control. Could she really trust Rachelle's safety to this... loose cannon?
"Right... That's why we came here," Meredith said. "We're offering our help. We're Rachelle's friends. We're not gonna sit on our hands while some killer targets her."
As if to echo her friend's statement, Amy threw her small arms around Rachelle's waist, in a hug that was as fierce as a bear's. Rachelle smiled, cheered by the warmth of her friend's embrace, and returned the hug. When Amy finally let go, Rachelle took in her friend's white peasant blouse and flowery skirt, and the matching bright teal blue nail polish on her fingers and toes. She was oddly comforted by the normalcy of it all. Even in a life-and-death situation, Amy can stay cheerful and fashionable,she thought, and wondered how her friend did it.
Dean blinked, his eyes drawn to Amy's blue nailpolish. Electric blue? Really? he wondered. One part of his mind noticed how her blouse and skirt clung to her curves. And if she didn't remind him of a little kid skipping along and he wasn't liking Rachelle so much, well... He shoved the thought out of his mind. At least she made Rachelle smile, he thought.
But Dean felt his anger rise when she said, "Ninny, do you think we'd let you face this thing alone?"
"She's not alone," Dean growled.
"But she's not with friends, either!" the girl snapped, stepping back next to Meredith and glaring at Dean.
Rachelle put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Calm down," she said, "They only want to help me."
"I'm trying to keep you safe," he said, "and they're making my job harder." He turned to Sam. "Back me up on this, Sam..."
"Uh-huh," his brother said distractedly.
Dean noticed that his brother was staring... at that tall redhead, Shawna. And she was staring back. What the hell? He glared at Sam. We need to get rid of these chicks, bro... get your head into the game, he thought, at the same time realizing just how satisfying it would be to tease his brother later.
Dean poked Sam. "Sam, help me out here."
Sam blinked, realizing that Dean was waiting for a response from him. He tried to get himself back into the moment. "Look, we appreciate that you care about Rachelle," Sam said, "but you need to trust us... The best way you can help is to let us do our job." He was using his most reasonable tone, but Dean could hear an edge underlying his brother's usual patience. The case must be getting on his nerves, too.
"Really?" Shawna put her hands on her hips and addressed her comments directly to Sam. She gestured broadly with her hands, as if the motions made her point stronger. "Hate to disagree, Mr. FBI, but there are things we can do that you guys can't."
Shawna began to pace the floor, moving quickly, and she was talking a mile a minute. Dean was getting a headache just watching her. Sam was staring at the woman, enraptured, while she continued her monologue.
"We can keep Rachelle's mind off this psycho, for one thing, leaving you two to focus on hunting him down. There are a few of us, so we can take turns staying with her, or whatever you decide is best..."
Sam smiled and his dimples showed. No, he's not an 8, Shawna thought. Make that 9 on the hotness scale.
"Go on..." Sam said. "What else can you do?" He seemed amused, which annoyed Shawna just a little. She was dead serious, after all. His partner looked more and more perturbed, and Shawna guessed he was wishing they'd all just disappear. He'd as much as said so.
Shawna tried to gather her scattered thoughts. "Well..." She cleared her throat. "I was going to say we could be your eyes and ears on campus. We can find out what we can... "
"Absolutely not!" That was from Rachelle. "I don't want anyone else putting themselves in danger..."
"But Shawna's right," said Amy. "We can at least keep our ears to the ground.. We don't have to do anything dangerous."
"Not only that," said Mer, "maybe we can give you ideas - but we need to know what's going on."
Amy said, "Right... like why is this creep targeting Rachelle?"
Shawna said, "And what are we going to do about it?"
Meredith looked as stubborn as a bull as she crossed her arms and said, "We are not leaving until you tell us everything..."
Rachelle looked around the room at all the determined faces surrounding her. She found herself awed by her friends' bravery and support. While she'd been worried about keeping them safe, they'd been plotting to put themselves in the thick of this messed-up situation. The ridiculousness of it struck her and she began to laugh. It started out as small, hysterical giggles, turned into louder chuckles, then became body-shaking belly laughs. She almost slipped out of Dean's arms with the force of her laughter and tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"I... I need to sit down," she said, and Dean helped her to the couch. He was looking down at her with concern... Her laughter unnerved him, she guessed. She sat there, gasping, trying to calm down, but the laughter kept coming and she couldn't seem to turn it off.
"Oh... don't worry," Amy said, "She does this all the time. The thing to do is make some tea. It always calms her down."
Rachelle's breath caught and her laughter turned into hiccups. "No, no, I'm okay," she gasped.
Dean brought over a bottle of water, and she took a sip. She could feel herself calming down.
Finally, when she could talk more normally, she looked beseechingly at her friends. "Uh, guys, I need to talk to the agents in private. Can you give us a minute?
Meredith and the others walked away from the couch, giving them some space.
Her voice pitched low, Rachelle said, "Dean, Sam... We should tell them."
Dean stared at her, unsure of what to say. He'd never expected this from Rachelle. "What? Are you crazy?" Dean said. "This ain't The Brady Bunch, babe. It's not some crazy sitcom where everything turns out roses!"
Sam nodded. "He's right, Rachelle. That's probably the worst thing you could do."
"Besides," Dean said, "They'll never believe you."
Rachelle looked at him, pleading for understanding. "They're my best friends, Dean. I can't keep lying to them."
Dean and Sam looked at each other and it seemed for a minute that Dean might yield, might yet agree to share the secret of who he was with outsiders.
Shawna, who was watching from across the room, knew the argument was about whether or not to share the truth. She'd had enough of secrecy; she'd heard Rachelle's improbable tale from Mer, but was more open to the possibility that Rachelle was not having some kind of weird breakdown.
So when there she saw a lull in the conversation, she sat down next to Rachelle, rubbing her friend's shoulders. "Rachelle... I'm curious." She smiled, the smile of someone who loves to stir the pot. "Tell us about these demons your friends fight. And how that relates to the trouble you're in now."
Shawna's words felt like a knife in Dean's back. He glared at Rachelle, anger at her betrayal plain on his face. "What the hell?" he shouted. "Rachelle, what did you tell them?"
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Read Chapter 11: Muddy Waters