Kate…

I'm fairly sure I drifted off at some point. Sam's warmth, although lessened by medicine, lulled me to sleep. I say "fairly sure", because even if I was unconscious, my brain certainly didn't take a break. Images, memories, and thoughts, both good and bad, flashed constantly. I couldn't tell if I was watching a show or actively making one.

Despite the noise in my brain, everything was quiet. Sam wasn't snoring or mumbling, just breathing deeply, getting the rest his body obviously needed. The lack of something to focus on externally allowed me to focus on everything internally, which was totally not what I wanted to do.

Winchesters much prefer the external.

But I couldn't stop myself.

The pain in my head hadn't really lessened. To make matters more fun, I was now aware of an all too familiar whole body fatigue that had nothing to do with a lack of sleep. Sometimes my skin crawled, forcing me to shrug my limbs to alleviate the discomfort.

Not good.

I remembered feeling like this.

When I felt like this, I was there. With them.

I cracked open one eye and peeked. There was Sam...frown lines and signs of I've Seen Some Shit on his face. OtherSam.

So, that part felt right. Cautiously, I peered around the room.

Home.

Okay...wasn't dreaming, but reality was still kinda fucked up.

At least I knew what was what.

The sun sprinkled faint beams of light through the window, landing on various objects and expanding their reach until most of my room appeared clearly. I scooched closer, smiling a little when Sam's arm flung across my stomach, followed by a grimace at the body heat and weight pressing upon me. I was about to roll him over when I heard a tentative knock at the door.

Before I could call out, the door opened, and MySam poked his head inside. His eyes roamed over me in bed with...himself.

Erg.

He tilted his head to the side, gears turning.

"Hey…" I whispered, trying to sit up.

He flapped a hand, shaking his head as he walked inside, so I stopped moving and tracked him with my eyes.

Sam sat in a chair next to the bed and just...watched. Not creepy watching, thank God. More...curious...interested...fascinated. He whispered, "How's he doing?"

I glanced down and shrugged. "Feverish, exhausted, worried, scared...the usual, minus the fever."

Sam nodded slowly, still fixated on the older version of himself curled up with his sister. His eyes dragged to mine. "You don't look so hot."

Smirking, I quipped, "Actually, I'm sweating. He's a fucking furnace right now."

Nonplussed and shockingly uninterested in my amazing sense of humor, Sam ghosted a hand across my forehead, wrapping some hair around his fingers before letting it drop on his lap. "You want Advil or Tylenol?"

"Aleve. Need something stronger today."

Nodding, Sam stood up, now pointedly not looking at OtherSam. "Cas is here...popped in and offered to heal...Sam." He swallowed, biting his lip a little. "Think you can get him downstairs? I mean, I know he's resting, but if Cas can heal him…"

I nodded back, "Yeah, we'll get downstairs." I could've done several different things to start the whole waking up process, but honestly, I didn't want to do anything while MySam was there. I wasn't ready for that encounter just yet.

Sam patted the doorframe. "Sounds good." He took hold of the doorknob, twisting it back and forth a couple times. "I'll get the Aleve ready. See you soon." And with that, he left and shut the door.

I let out a breath, puffing out my cheeks in the process. This was gonna be interesting, to say the least.

Sam? Yeah, meet the fam. This is your dead dad, your dead surrogate dad, your dead brother, your missing brother, and yourself from another reality. Hungry? I think there's ham in the fridge…

Awesome.

I gently extracted myself from Sam's dead-weight arm. I was fairly sure he wouldn't want to wake up entwined, even though he had a fever. Sitting next to him, I stroked his cheek and called his name until his eyes twitched and opened with a yawn.

Holy mother...was it bad to have him brush his teeth before getting healed? Maybe Cas could fix his mouth, too...that'd be worth the extra mojo, right?

Glassy eyes opened and mostly focused on me. Okay, no way a toothbrush was gonna work. But I bet a swish of mouthwash was possible.

"Hi there...I, uh, I'm sorry I'm waking you, but Cas is here...my Cas...and he can heal you. Think you can get downstairs?" I was aware that I frontloaded a lot of info in a short amount of time to someone who could barely see straight. But the sooner he got down there, the sooner he got healed.

Sam frowned, blinking heavily and wetting his lips. "Cas...what? Kate?"

I ran my fingers through his hair, grimacing at the sweat. "Yeah, Sam. It's me. Look, just...come with me, okay? I'm gonna get you fixed up." I stole a quick kiss to his forehead before pulling off the blankets. He shivered, hugging himself for warmth, but nodded and accepted my help sitting up.

He was obviously still out of it, but he knew who I was, and he trusted me so implicitly that he was willing to follow me blind.

"Need...um...bathroom, first…"

At first, I was elated, thinking about the toothpaste. Then I realized he probably needed to piss. "Okay, buddy...let's go."

It only took three tries to get on our feet - me swaying from a raging headache and mild disorientation, him swaying from too many things to mention. We managed to get down the hall and he went into the bathroom with a halfhearted wave. I leaned against the wall massaging my temples, craving the pain relief waiting downstairs. A couple minutes later, I heard a flush, then the sink, and finally the door opened and out staggered my brother smelling...hold on.

"You rinsed your mouth out?" I asked.

Sam smacked his lips. "Tasted like ass...needed...something else to taste."

Huh. "You know what ass tastes like?"

Sam coughed into his shoulder. "Sure. Where're we goin'?"

I nodded towards the stairs. "Downstairs. Cas is waiting. C'mon…"

His gross cast covered arm wrapped around my shoulders and together we slowly, and I mean slowly, made our way downstairs.

Voices floated through the front door, stray words winding their way into my consciousness. Most of my attention was on not falling and not making/letting Sam fall, so I was only partly aware of the conversation. I heard Castiel's low, gravely voice, Dad's pushy tone, Bobby's more patient lilt.

But when I heard, "A king? Hell really has a king?" My brain automatically dispatched more attention toward the talking, causing us to stumble down the last couple steps.

"Whoa! You okay?" Sam and I swiveled toward Adam, both hands outstretched to help stop us from tumbling onto the porch.

Sam flinched, eyes a little wide, gripping my shoulder a little harder. Immediately, Adam's hands went up defensively. "It's okay, man. I'm...uh...it's okay."

Sighing, I squeezed Sam's hand. "Just...come on. When Cas is done, you'll be better equipped for this."

We got to the doorway, and before Bobby leapt up to open the screen, I smiled at my family, casually sitting in various spots with mugs of coffee and the facial expression a kid wears when he's hearing a particularly riveting story.

Now, my other reality was a good story to listen to. Well, whoop-dee-do.

The second I stepped outside, the pain in my head lessened by a million percent. The relief was so strong and sudden, it took me by surprise and I almost collapsed. A flutter ruffled my hair, and Cas was holding us up, helping Sam sit while keeping a firm hold of my arm.

You are unwell, he thought at me.

You are unwell, I thought back, rolling my eyes at the uncreative, yet very Dean, response. I would've laughed, except the serious expression on Castiel's face told me...oh, shit. You aren't well, are you? Still not at full strength? I immediately felt guilty for having him heal Sam.

I'll be fine. I believe I have the grace to heal Sam.

I blinked at him. You believe?

Now he looked guilty. I do. Have the grace, I mean.

I studied him, deep blue eyes stared right back, his face impassive. Bullshit. Do the minimum, Cas. He can sleep the rest of this off. I just...whatever's broken or damaged is the most important. Understand?

Cas intoned, Of course.

"I mean it, Cas."

"You mean what, Missy?" Startled, I turned to Bobby, and discovered everyone was looking at us funny.

Fuck.

"Nothing, Bobby. I was...just…"

"Kate is thanking me for healing Sam." Cas gave my arm a squeeze. See? I Improvised like a human.

I squeezed back. Like the pro you are. But I'm serious, Cas. Please.

Dad cleared his throat. "Okay, let's get this show started."

Crouching next to Sam, I kept a hand on his arm. He squinted up at Cas. "Cas? What're you...who's with Charlie? Why're...you're so young…"

Cas just smiled tolerantly, placing two fingers on Sam's forehead. Sam's eyes closed and he shivered. I could sense Castiel's grace flowing through Sam.

...Flowing through Sam a little too much. Cas?

Letting go, Cas took a step or two back, one hand behind him, groping for the porch rail. I guided him as best as I could, thankful that Dean stepped in to help. Wearily, he passed a hand across his face, shrugging his shoulders sheepishly at me.

xxxxx

Sam…

Cold prickles danced their way through Sam's body. They targeted the broken arm, the sores in his mouth, the bruising on his back, the headache, fever, the...blister on his right big toe? As quickly as it came, it went, prompting a slight shiver. What he wasn't quite ready for was the rush of clarity and awareness that slapped him in the face.

Other than feeling exhausted, he felt great. Better than he had in awhile, actually. Well. Physically, at least.

Sam dragged his eyes off his healed arm, thankful the cast had disappeared, and sought out his sister. She stood next to a much younger Castiel, one hand on his arm, staring intently into his face. A chill shook Sam, and he sneezed. Kate's head whipped around at the noise, crouching in front of him, hands on either side of his face.

"Hey...how're you feeling?" Her eyes searched his, hopeful and insistent.

Sam wet his lips, tentatively smiling. "Good, uh, yeah. Good. You…" For a moment, he just stared at her, drinking in the sight.

Uh...the sight of her looking thin and pale and not as healthy as he thought she'd be, that is.

"What is it? Sam? Hey - what's wrong?"

He shook his head. "You're not healed. Why...why aren't you healed if you're alive?"

Her head dropped to her chest as she huffed a laugh. "You're kidding me."

Sam raised her chin. "You're what's in my face right now." He sighed. "I just thought...we all thought that - whoa…" Voice faltering, his thoughts were completely forgotten when he caught sight of an impossibly young Dean, arms folded across his chest, standing next to Cas. Mouth open, Sam didn't know what to say. This guy was...well...Dean. Only, not his Dean. Her Dean. And…

He glanced around him. Bobby. Adam. Dad. Himself. All younger, all watching him closely, all not remotely dead.

Heart hammering in his chest, Sam clasped his hands, wet his lips again and sat back heavily in his chair. He turned to Kate, completely at a loss for words.

Kate pushed herself to her feet. "Yup. Welcome to my world. Literally. Sam, this is everyone. Everyone, this...this is Sam." She pulled up a chair and sat down, brushing stray hair out of her pale face and smiling a little, as if to tell him everything would be okay. "So...you wanna start the conversation now, or take a shower first?"