A/N:Written for Wave Obscura as a Christmas present. She requested a tag from an outside POV to my fic "Morituri Te Salutant" (you will have to read this fic first, or it won't make a lot of sense). Because she is wonderful she beta'd her own present and found a title for it. Thanks for being my beta and my friend, my dear!

Disclaimer: I don't won anything Supernatural related.

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Jim stifled a yawn and pressed his shoulder against his sister's for warmth. They were both sitting on the stairs in front of one of the Camp Chitaqua's wooden cabins, heads buzzing with fatigue, too tired to help the others moving into the camp, but too excited to sleep.

"You think this is it?" Em asked. "You think we've finally found a place to live?"

Jim glanced at her. In the dark her pale skin, blue eyes and blonde hair her made her look fragile. Which she wasn't, Jim knew, and she fought every day to convince everyone else. They looked nothing like each other – Jim's skin and hair were darker and his eyes were hazel. They didn't look like twins, or even like siblings. Not that it mattered to them, of course.

"Dean seems to think so," he answered, and she nodded gravely. She trusted Dean as much as Jim trusted him, just as much as they trusted each other.

"Yeah, you're right. It's gonna be okay. I'm just tired, I guess."

"I know, I'm tired too. Hell of a trip, huh?"

"Hmm."

She was leaning heavily on his shoulder, falling asleep, he realized with a surge of fondness. He buried his nose in her hair, pressed his lips against her head in a way that wasn't quite a kiss. He was so tired he felt like he was immaterial and floating, and she was her anchor point.

"Hey!"

She straightened up suddenly and her head almost knocked against his chin.

"What the fuck, Em?!"

She made a shushing noise and he frowned, turning his head to see what she was looking at. He saw Castiel and Dean, standing together some yards away. Castiel was holding Dean by the shoulder – in fact, he looked like he was the only thing holding their leader up. They were talking but too far away for the twins to make out their words. Finally, Castiel lead Dean to one of the closest cabins.

"Shit," Jim swore softly. "You think Dean's alright?"

"One way to find out."

She was already starting to stand, but he grabbed her by her wrist to hold her back.

"Don't, Castiel is taking care of him. They wouldn't want us to be there."

"What if it's serious? What if it's…" Emma swallowed, eyes wide with fright. "… cholera?"

Jim gaped at her. It was stupid because after all Dean was only human, but he had never considered the possibility of him succumbing to the disease. Dean was a hero, larger than life. Him being sick was an unsettling thought, to say the least.

Castiel came out of the cabin and they watched him run through the camp, in direction of the cars. He came back a few minutes later, holding something in his hands, but it was too dark and they couldn't see what it was. Jim felt his insides twist, making him want to throw up, a little like the time Emma had food poisoning and they had thought that it was maybe cholera. Emma was standing again and this time he didn't tried to stop her, but followed her as she made her way to the cabin where Dean and Castiel were.

They climbed the stairs leading to the door noiselessly. They were good at moving silently, Dean often told them so. It was probably all the hunting they had done with their dad when, well, before. They were good shots, too, and that was the reason Dean let them come on expeditions even though they were only nineteen. Jim couldn't explain the need to move in silence now, he just followed his sister's lead instinctively. He saw her peer through the window, and moved to stand at her side.

The only light outside and inside the cabin was moonlight, and even though it was shining brightly tonight it wasn't enough for them to see through the dirty window what was going on inside. There were voices talking, though, so Jim concentrated on them.

"Freak," Dean was saying, and Jim wondered who he was talking about. There was a long silence, and Dean's voice again: "I lost him, didn't I? I lost him for good."

His voice was muffled by the cabin's walls, but there was so much sorrow in it that Jim shivered, thinking back to his mom and dad, killed in one of the government bombings. Emma and he exchanged a look, and he knew she had similar thoughts.

"I'm sorry."

Castiel's voice, now. Jim stepped away from the window, feeling uncomfortable. Emma turned her head.

"What?"

"We should go," he whispered urgently. "We shouldn't be eavesdropping like this, it's… not right."

She bit her lower lip, and he could see that she was torn between the same ashamed feeling that was bothering him, and her curiosity and worry for Dean.

"I…"

"C'mon, let's go," he insisted. "If there's really something wrong with Dean, Castiel will tell us. Just… later." He reached out to her, wanting to tug at her sleeve to make her follow him, but the door opened and they both started.

"What are you two doing here?"

Castiel was always calm, almost unnaturally so, but he looked furious right then, blue eyes shining with anger in the moonlight.

"We, um, we just," Jim stuttered.

"We were just worried about Dean," Emma said. "We saw you and him and he looked… I don't know, sick."

"We're sorry," Jim interjected quickly.

"Dean's fine," Castiel said tersely. "You shouldn't be trying to spy on him."

The twins lowered their heads in shame.

"So," Emma dared after a silence, "Dean is really okay? It's not… cholera, is it?"

Jim cringed. His sister never did know when to shut the fuck up.

"Emma!" he hissed.

Castiel's stern gaze fell on Emma, and she held it resolutely until he shook his head.

"It's not," he finally said, but Emma still tried to take a peek above his shoulder. "I said it's not," Castiel repeated, and sighed. "Come on in, and see for yourselves."

He stepped back to let them enter. It was dark inside but the moon provided them enough light for them to see Dean lying on his stomach, his face hidden in the crook of his arm, looking sound asleep. Jim had seen more than his share of people sick with cholera, and they never slept like that.

"Believe me, now?" Castiel's voice came from behind them.

"If he isn't sick, what's wrong with him?" Emma whispered. "He doesn't look well."

"He's just tired. Really tired."

Dean shifted in his bed and let out a low distressed moan. Castiel rushed at his bedside, laid a hand on his shoulder and let it there until Dean calmed down. The silence in the room was suddenly too much to bear and Jim was talking before he was even aware of it:

"Who is Sam?"

Castiel looked up and his eyes narrowed.

"Is that who Dean lost?" Emma asked. At Castiel's look she added, softly apologetic: "We kinda heard him say that… Sorry."

Castiel rubbed his mouth wearily. Jim thought he wouldn't answer them and was ready to leave the cabin, but Castiel surprised him by saying:

"Sam was Dean's little brother."

Jim felt cold, all of a sudden.

"Was?"

"There is no more Sam. He and Dean were everything to each other." He tilted his head. "Like you and Emma." Jim felt Emma's fingers on his arm, and Castiel continued: "Never ask questions about him again. Do you understand?"

They glanced at each other, then at Castiel, and they nodded. Castiel went back sitting at Dean's bedside, ignoring them, and the twins understood that it was their cue to leave.

Outside the night was clear, the stars bright as ever, and it was cold, but Jim knew it wasn't the cold that was causing the shivers he felt coming from his twin as she walked so close to him that her arm kept bumping into his. He took her hand spontaneously, kissed her fingertips, tenderly.

"Let's find a cabin for us, okay?"

For once, he was the one leading her.