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Rachel has yet to find what useful purpose Dean serves to this world or any other. So far his driving skills, propensity for violence, and taste in music has been far outweighed by the pure annoying of his personality.

The number of punches she's dealt his shoulder has multiplied ever since she hit her head, too. Maybe Jo was attracted to men that tried to baby her but Rachel would take a monster over a concerned individual any day of the week.

Which is why she had no problem with stealing one of Dean's guns after they'd made camp and he'd gone off to-- do whatever it was he was going to do. Se has her own, of course, but it doesn't serve her purpose.

It isn't shiny.

"Mort?" Rachel frowns and glances over her shoulder to make sure no one's around to see her acting like a crazy woman, talking to a gun. "C'mon, I need to talk to you."

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"You've never actually talked to her, huh?" Dean smirks. "He trained her. No shit."

"I've talked to her plenty," Rachel points out, monotone and goes back to staring at the stars.

For about half a second before the rest of Dean's words register and she's staring at him again.

"...a fictional character trained her." Rachel sits up on her blanket and stares at him with narrowed eyes. "Are you high?"

Dean smirks over at her. "You can turn into a freakin' wolf. Oh, and a bear. And you think I'm high?"

"Uh, yes," Rachel replies, as if this answer is utterly obvious, still frowning at him. "I'm not fictional. You're trying to tell me that Batman is real and one of his little robiny things is out there on her own personal mission to piss me off.

"How is that not insane?"

"She doesn't think she's fictional either," Dean points out, grinning at how annoyed she is. "Nor does Babs. Oracle. Did you meet her? Chick in the wheelchair? Ever hear what happened to the first Batgirl?"

See, Sam, a solid grounding in comic book lore is USEFUL FACT, SO THERE.

"What, the Alicia Silverstone one?"

Rachel is staring at him a lot.

"...wait, are you saying everyone here is from some kind of movie or book or something?"

"Only some of them. I haven't figured it out yet, what's causing it. But I don't trust any of 'em."

Perhaps it is lucky for both of them that Dean has never read Animorphs.

"There was a haunting back home, characters from fairy tales comin' alive and killing folk. I haven't seen any killing yet but I'm keepin' an eye out."

So so so lucky.

Rachel closes her eyes, shakes her head, and flops over onto her blanket again.

"Yeah. Okay, sure. And George Clooney is going to go zooming through the night in a horrible leather suit. Why not? 'Cause my life wasn't insane enough before getting dropped here."

"Don't forget the rubber nipples," Dean reminds her, smirking up at the sky. "Yeah. That's about the size'f it. They seem OK with bein' told they're fictional, but ... yeah, I don't trust 'em."

"That was Kilmer, wasn't it?"

Just sayin'.

Rachel sighs a little, staring at the stars irritably. "So what makes you think everyone but you is fictional?"

"I dunno about half of 'em. I only know the ones I've heard of. ... mostly the Batman ones," Dean admits, with a smirk. "You know that farm? Belonged to Clark Kent. Mild-mannered reporter."

Rachel thinks about this for a moment before glancing over at him again.

"...Superman?"

She's in Marco's heaven and it's pretty much her hell.

"Superman," Dean confirms. He's grinning like it's the best thing ever. "You should ask him t'take you flying. Actually, I haven't seen the man himself, but I heard stuff."

"I can already fly," Rachel points out, still frowning. But now the frown has more to do with her believing him.

Marco really needs to be here. The voice in her head can't do his "This is insane!" comments in a shrill little voice justice.

"...I probably have no right to say this, but... this is completely insane."

Dean laughs. "No shit, Sherlock. Welcome to the big, wide world of crazy. Did you somehow not pick up on that when we were fighting ghosts, or freakin' kraken?"

"A kraken's just a monster, I've seen and fought weirder looking aliens. The ghost was... okay, the ghost was weird."

Sigh.

"Really weird. But... Batman? Seriously, Batman? And Wonder Girl? I mean..."

"Wonder Girl can fly," Dean informs her. "That one was Spoiler, I think. Minor Batman character, didn't do much."

These details, obviously, important.

"...there's seriously a superhero called Wonder Girl? Where do they come up with these crap names?"

This is also important commentary, you see.

"That's the mystery none of them are ever able to solve," Dean says seriously -- and sniggers. "Seriously, Batman? Not exactly a name to strike fear into people. Robin is even worse."

Rachel smirks a little, shaking her head at the stars. "I don't even get why people read them in the first place. And you're one to talk, knowing all that stuff about them."

"Hey," Dean protests, looking terribly offended. "This is classic western culture at its best!"

"That doesn't speak well of western culture."

Dean crosses his arms and looks Very Serious, which is a clue that he isn't. "Hey, I don't know 'bout you, but I had ghosts to bust. I didn't exactly have time for college. Comics are as good as it gets."

Rachel grins - at the stars. But she can hear the 'seriousness' in his voice. "I had a war to fight but I still managed to fake my way through Grapes of Wrath."

"Sucks to be you," Dean says, grin audible now. "I skipped that class. ... that month of classes. I think there was a wolverine in Alaska or something."