A/N: I am leaving on vacation tonight, so I may or may not be able to post updates before my return home next Wednesday. I will do my best!

Chapter 7

Laney was in the clutches of another nightmare-memory and she knew that she was going to have to ride it out. There was no way to wake herself up until it had run its course and it wasn't for lack of trying. Instead, she had focused her energy on controlling the awakenings the best she could. She saw what was happening, but it was nothing new; her father in the clutches of Meg and her minions, being tortured. Only this time she wondered why she was vaguely aware of the acrid smell of smoke.

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"Dean! I forgot, I left biscuits baking in the oven!" Sam shouted.

Dean's eyes widened in understanding; his sister was in there.

They reached the back door to the kitchen simultaneously. The sounds of glass popping had been the kitchen windows imploding from the heat. Flames and thick black smoke were pouring already pouring out.

"Laney!" Dean shouted.

Dean grabbed the doorknob and cursed. It was extremely hot. He pulled his sleeve over his hand and tried again. It was locked so he started kicking at it, Sam joining in.

"Sammy, call 911," said Dean, handing him his phone.

"Laney!" Dean shouted again, pounding on the door.

Dean heard Sam yelling directions to the 911 dispatcher. "There's a fire and my sister is trapped inside!"

Dean's chest tightened. The door was jammed shut. He took off at run for the side of the house. He tried to keep himself from panicking. His sister was probably upstairs in her room and it was possible she couldn't hear anything. But still she should have at least smelled the smoke. In another minute or two her escape route down the stairs might be blocked.

Sam ran up behind him. "They're five minutes away," he said, breathlessly.

That's too long, thought Dean. "Laney!" he shouted again up at her open window.

"Why isn't she answering?" asked Sam, his voice tight.

Dean was studying the house. "I don't know. Give me a boost," he said.

Sam put out his hand to boost his brother up onto the roof of the side porch. From there he could get into his sister's room.

Sam grunted under the weight and gave his brother a big push. Dean landed on the roof with a heavy thud and immediately got his footing. He quickly made it to his sister's window, which was open, and climbed in.

"Laney, get up, there's a fire!" he shouted.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room. When he finally did, he realized much to his horror; Laney's bed was empty.

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The smell of smoke in Laney's nightmare became ever increasingly present. It confused her. She didn't remember smoke anywhere while her father was being held by Meg, nor the heat that she was beginning to become aware of. She worried that she was falling into a new memory that she hadn't seen yet and she retreated a little further into herself. She didn't know how much more she could take, how much more she wanted to see. Yet, she felt a nagging sense of danger that she couldn't shake. Not that it mattered. There was nothing she could do about it. She was trapped in her own mind.

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Dean grabbed at the sheets on the bed, just to make sure he wasn't missing her. But it was definitely empty. He raced back to the window.

"Sammy she's not in her room!"

Even from the distance he could see Sam's face visibly pale. "Check our room! I'm going to try the front door!"

Dean didn't even respond, he just turned around and ran into his room. She wasn't there either. He opened the bedroom door and choked on his yell. A thin layer of smoke blew into the room. There was no heat, which meant the fire was still confined to the first floor. But if she wasn't upstairs than that was the only place she could be, and Dean's heart, that was already beating like a jackhammer, felt like it would burst through his chest.

He tried the light switches, but wasn't getting any light. The circuit breaker was in the kitchen and had probably been shorted out by the fire.

"Laney!" he yelled, as he made his way, blindly down the stairs.

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Sam reached the front door and tried the knob. It was locked, and Bobby's doors were meant to be difficult to open. He kicked at it in a fruitless effort, before picking up a nearby plank of wood and breaking the nearest window. A thick plume of smoke poured out and burned his eyes. He could see the flames licking at the entrance to the kitchen, it was completely engulfed, and he knew it wouldn't be much longer before it started in on the rest of the house.

"Laney!" he shouted. But still no response. His ears perked up at the sound of approaching sirens. Help was on the way.

He shouted for his sister again and was joined by Dean's own desperate yells.

The opening to the window was too small for Sam to get his body through and he couldn't see a thing due to the smoke.

"Dean! Are you downstairs?"

"Where the hell is she Sammy?!" he yelled back.

"Open the door!"

Dean's eyes were burning with smoke; the visibility was horrible and he tripped over a small table. He could see the flames from the kitchen and hear the popping and cracking of glass combusting due to the heat.

He scrambled blindly for the door and got it open. Sam came in immediately, pulled his brother out for a second so he could grab some fresh air.

Dean coughed. "I don't see her. Why isn't she answering?" he asked desperately.

Sam's eyes shimmered with tears. It couldn't end like this. Not like this. Not with fire. Not like Mom and Jess.

Sam took a deep breath and rushed into the house, Dean followed him. They made their way to the living room when suddenly Dean could make a shape out on the couch. One suspiciously shaped like a person.

"Laney!" shouted Dean. "Sammy I found her!"

Dean reached for her the couch, ignoring the stifling heat radiating from nearby. He could hear the wail of sirens and see the reflections of the lights bouncing off the walls. The lights illuminated his sister's face enough that he could make it out; it was covered in a layer of black soot. She wasn't moving, wasn't responding at all, and Dean thought he was going to die right then and there. Sam loomed over him, fear reflected in his eyes.

Dean quickly lifted Laney up into his arms and made his way towards the door, Sam leading the way. There was no time to check her pulse or her breathing. They were just clearing the front door when a firefighter met them.

"Is there anyone else inside?"

"No, just us," said Sam. "But I think my sister is hurt, she inhaled a lot of smoke, she's not conscious."

The firefighter briefly glanced at the bundle in Dean's arms and shouted for a paramedic.

There was a bustle of activity as the firefighters pulled out their hoses and shouted directions to each other.

Dean rushed quickly away from the activity and found a spot to sit down on the ground, still cradling his sister. He felt for her pulse. It was fast but regular. He watched her chest rising and falling a bit too rapidly for his own taste. The breaths were coming out in raspy wheezes. He tapped at her face, but got no response. He looked at Sam, terror in his eyes.

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It was less than a minute before the paramedics made it to the scene. They quickly made their way towards the civilians they saw huddled off to the side and away from the house.

"Who's injured?" asked a paramedic.

"It's our sister," said Sam. "She inhaled a lot of smoke, she's not conscious," he added, voice cracking.

"Here, give us some room," said the medic.

Sam moved back to stand behind Dean, but Dean wasn't moving. He just clutched Laney tighter to his chest and cast them a desperate look; as if in letting her go, he might not get her back.

"Sir, please, we need to assess her."

"Dean," said Sam, softly but urgently. He tugged his brother's sleeve. Dean finally relented and laid his sister down on the ground to allow the medics access.

"What's her name?"

"Delaney, she's 17," said Dean.

"What her medical history?" asked the paramedic, noticing the leg brace and what appeared to be newly healed scars on her upper chest.

"She was in a major car accident about almost 4 months ago," said Dean. "Internal injuries, head trauma, broke her leg. She's still recovering," he added, gruffly. So much had happened to his sister in the last year, it was overwhelming. When were they ever going to catch a break?

The paramedic nodded his head and began doing his assessment. "How long was she inside with the smoke?"

Sam shook his head and threw up his hands in a helpless gesture. "We're not sure. We were outside and didn't notice right away. Maybe ten or fifteen minutes."

Dean looked at his brother picking up on the grief. Sam's voice was heavily laced with guilt.

"Oxygen sat is at 84%," the paramedic said to his partner, frowning. "Let's get her in the bus and get the O2 going."

Dean's heart skipped a beat. Aside from her poor oxygen saturation there could be damage to her lungs, toxic fumes, and God only knows what else.

"Is she going to be okay?" asked Sam, his voice thick with worry.

The paramedic looked up at Sam. "Her vitals are stable, we need to get her on oxygen, get some breathing treatments. I'll be happier when she regains consciousness."

Sam nodded and swallowed the lump in this throat.

The paramedics lifted Laney up on to the stretcher. Dean reached over and grabbed on to her hand, squeezing and hoping for a response, but not getting one.

"Only one of you can come with us. We're taking her to Metro South Hospital."

Dean cast Sam an apologetic look, because there was no way he wasn't the one going.

Sam nodded in understanding. "I'll stay here and deal with the authorities," he said. "I'll be there as soon as I can, keep me updated."

"Okay," said Dean. He glanced over at the house. It looked like the firefighters had already knocked down the fire. Dean was vaguely grateful that they hadn't burned down Bobby's whole house. Not that it mattered much if his sister wasn't going to be okay.

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Laney could feel herself on the verge of awakening, but it was different than her usual experience. Her body felt heavy and tired and her chest felt tight. She swore she could hear the sound of distant voices and a beeping noise that had some ring of familiarity to it. Something was really wrong.

Then she felt the touch of unfamiliar hands and a prick of pain, and panicked.

Dean had been watching his sister so close, he didn't know how he missed it. He'd been looking for any sign – any inkling of her awareness, or of her coming to and didn't get any. So when she suddenly lurched up from the stretcher it completely caught him by surprise.

"Laney sweetheart, it's okay kiddo, it's okay," he said roughly, grabbing at her wildly flailing hands.

Her eyes darted around the ambulance unfocused and confused. She finally made eye contact with her big brother and visibly relaxed.

"Whoa, whoa, relax honey," said the paramedic.

She opened her mouth to try to speak, but choked on her words. She doubled over in a fit of uncontrollable coughing that made Dean wince in sympathy.

He could see the question in her eyes. What happened?

"There was fire and you inhaled a lot of smoke, but you'll be okay," he said, gripping her hand tightly. "The paramedic is going to help you, just lay back and relax."

Laney hesitated but laid back down when she realized how difficult it was to get a decent breath.

She looked over at the paramedic who was attempting to re-insert the IV in her arm. So, that had been the prick she felt.

Dean stroked her hair back away from her face. "Good girl," he said.

"Sammy?" she mouthed the word, but he understood it perfectly.

"He's fine. He'll meet us at the hospital."

Laney nodded. She had no idea what had really happened, but the smoke and the heat she'd felt in her nightmare-memory made sense. What confused her now was Dean being by her side and looking so worried, looking like he was trying hard not to cry. It couldn't have been that long ago that he'd been telling her what a child she was and that she had to grow up. Yet now he was right by her side, looking like he didn't want to be anywhere else.

Dean watched the play of emotions across her face, confusion, fear, gratitude. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

He had a lot of explaining to do.

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The ER doctors this time had nothing but good news, a far cry from the last time Laney had seen the inside of a hospital. She'd suffered some serious smoke inhalation, but all it required was a lot of oxygen, several breathing treatments, and an overnight stay for observation. Otherwise she would make a full recovery.

Dean had never been more relieved. He had called Sam with the good news and smiled at the audible relief in his little brother's voice. He knew the kid was beating himself up over the fire. That was a Winchester thing, always trying to take on the blame for everything that ever went wrong.

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of motion coming from his sister. She was miming something at him. The doctor had imposed a strict no talking rule on her. Her throat was so raw and inflamed, she hadn't complained in the least.

"What?" asked Dean.

She mimed a cup to her mouth.

"Water?"

Laney nodded.

"Doc says ice chips only until tomorrow," said Dean. He grabbed the cup of ice chips off the bedside table and put some on a spoon.

Laney sighed heavily. Back in a hospital again, needing to be waited on again – like a baby. Sucked hard.

"You can do it yourself if you want," said Dean, schooled enough in his sister's expressions to understand what was going on in her head.

Laney shrugged and rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she mouthed.

Dean tentatively lifted a spoonful to her mouth.

She mouthed a thank you.

"Don't mention it," he said.

She gagged and coughed a bit at the ice sliding down her throat, wincing at the pain. Dean patted her back until she calmed down

"Take it easy."

She nodded and leaned back. Dean frowned at the loud wheezing of her breathing. Even though all the doctors had insisted she was going to be fine, he was still on edge.

She started miming again.

"You should get some rest," said Dean. "I'm not really up for a game of charades right now."

She shot daggers at him, but stubborn as ever, she continued to mime.

"Pen and paper? You want to write something?"

Laney nodded.

Dean patted down his jacket for a pen and pulled it out. He grabbed a notepad from the table and handed both to her.

She quickly jotted something down and showed it to him. "Tell me everything."

Dean sat back down in the chair next to her bed and sighed heavily. "Fire in the kitchen," he said. "Sammy said he left some biscuits or something in the oven and forgot all about them."

Laney frowned and jotted another note. "Bobby's house okay?"

"I think it was just kitchen." A few more minutes though and it would have been more. A lot more.

Laney's frown deepened. She wrote again and thrust the pad in Dean's face. "What's wrong?"

Dean's face darkened. "Sam and I were outside so we didn't notice the fire until it was fully blown and you…you weren't in your room. We couldn't find you."

Laney nodded in understanding. "Didn't have my crutches, so I crashed on couch."

Dean ran a weary hand through his hair. "We were yelling for you. How come you didn't answer? Didn't you smell the smoke?"

Laney chewed on her bottom lip and tapped the pen on the pad. There was really no way around the truth. She hesitated for a moment before jotting her answer down. She turned the paper towards him. "Nightmare."

"I don't understand. You still should have woken up," said Dean.

Laney bit her lip even harder and wrote. "Nightmare-memory."

Dean's eyes widened in comprehension. "You couldn't wake up?"

Laney shook her head no.

Dean scowled. Talk about a bad time to have one of her abilities rear its ugly head.

Dean turned around to the sound of hurried feet entering the room. "Hey Sam."

Sam nodded his head at his brother, but his attention was fully focused on the little sister he'd almost killed.

Laney noticed the wet shine of his eyes and melted. She opened her arms to him and gestured for him to come over to her.

He gently put his arms around her, chuckling lightly when she tightly pulled him closer. He kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you're okay."

Laney smiled and reached over for the pen and paper. Sam gave Dean a questioning look.

"She's not allowed to talk for a couple of days at least," said Dean.

Sam's jaw set, his teeth clenched.

Laney elbowed him in the side and thrust the paper in his face. "Not your fault."

Dean peeked around him to read it. "She's right."

Sam shook his head. "Its my fault. I forgot I left the food in the oven."

"Yeah and if I hadn't been such a colossal dick, you wouldn't have run out after me and forgotten about them. So if you want to blame someone you can blame me."

Laney rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration. "Nobody's fault. Let it go."

Dean smiled. "Good advice," he said to his brother.

Sam put up his hands in surrender and took a seat in the empty chair next to his brother. He supposed they could put the blame game on hold for awhile.

"So what's the damage?" Dean asked.

"Kitchen is a total loss. Water damage in the living room, smoke damage throughout the first floor. But the structure is still intact," said Sam. "I called Bobby and told him. He's a couple days out. I told him we'd take care of the insurance company and all that."

"Yeah, least we can do."

"He was more worried about Laney," said Sam.

Laney smiled. She was glad they'd be home before he got back. At least it would give her a chance to clean up the place as much as possible.

"Well, she's going to be back in the saddle in no time," said Dean, reassuring his brother.

Laney nodded mid-yawn.

"Time for you to get some rest," said Dean. "And not a word about it," he added, with a mischievous grin.

Laney narrowed her eyes at her brother and wrote, "So not funny."

"Gotta' get my kicks somewhere," he said. He pulled the blankets up to her chin and kissed her on the forehead.

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Much later that morning Dean came in to relieve his brother. Sam had stayed with Laney while he'd gone back to wait for the insurance investigators to do a damage assessment. He also wanted to make sure that whatever the insurance wasn't going to cover, Bobby never found out about; because Dean intended to use the money from the settlement they'd received from the accident. There was more than enough there, and they owed it to Bobby big time, but he was a proud man and would never accept it if he knew about it.

"Good morning," Dean said, in a sing song voice. He smacked Sam on the back of the head with the paper bag he was carrying.

"Ow, dammit," said Sam, startling awake with a snort.

"Smooth Sammy."

"Bite me."

"Keep it down," Dean admonished with a smile. "The baby is still asleep."

Sam rolled his eyes and rubbed them tiredly. He looked over at his sister, still sound asleep despite the noisy entrance of his brother.

"How'd she sleep?" Dean asked, with a nod of the head towards his sister.

Sam frowned. "Woke up freaked out a couple of times. She called out for you a few times too."

"Dude, you should have called me," said Dean.

"I got her settled quickly and she's been asleep fine for a while now," said Sam, "I can take care of her too, you know."

"I know that," said Dean, irritated, not really with his brother, more with himself.

Sam saw the worry in Dean's eyes, despite the smile he'd been wearing. "She's okay," Sam reminded him.

Dean ran his hands through his hair. "Yeah, I know." He sighed and took a seat in the chair next to his brother. "You should go back to the house and get some real sleep."

"I'm fine," said Sam, with a yawn.

"Yeah, you look fantastic. What, with your hair standing up straight and smelling like you smoked a warehouse full of cigarettes."

Sam gave his brother a dirty look but surreptitiously sniffed his shirt, wrinkling his nose at the result.

"Seriously, back to the house, take a shower, grab a nap. They'll be releasing Laney sometime this afternoon."

Sam looked at his sister, but hesitated. Part of that hesitation was worry about leaving his brother and sister in the same room together. No telling what might happen. But he'd seen the look in Dean's eyes the night before when he found out Laney was in the house that was going up in flames. He suspected Dean wasn't going to be picking any fights for a while.

"Yeah, okay. I'll be back in a few hours." He leaned over and kissed his sister's forehead.

Dean handed his brother the car keys. "Bring back a change of clothes for her."

Sam nodded, took one last look at his sister and left.

Dean grabbed his sandwich from his bag and took a bite. When he glanced back at his sister her eyes were open and staring at him.

"Good morning," he said, with a smile. "Hope you don't mind if I eat my breakfast right in front of you."

Laney yawned and reached over and grabbed the pen and paper and wrote. "Rude."

Dean smirked. "Yeah, I know. Don't worry, as soon as I'm done, I'll get you something once I make sure it's okay."

Laney nodded and gave him thumbs up.

In the light of day everything seemed different. She hadn't forgotten the harsh words her brother had spoken to her the night before, yet at the same time, they seemed miles and miles away.

Dean finished off his sandwich in two quick bites. "So, I think we should talk."

Laney raised an eyebrow and pointed to her throat.

"I know, but I'll be the one doing all the talking."

Laney's eyebrow shot even higher.

Dean cleared his throat. "What I said to you last night was way off base."

Dean looked at his sister, her eyes already glistening with tears.

"I know things have been bad. I'm the head of this family and I abandoned my post. I promised you that I would take care of you. I've made a lot of mistakes lately and I can't promise you I won't make anymore, but I'm really going to try."

Laney put up a hand to try and get her brother to stop talking. Hearing him say what she'd been hoping to hear for so long was brutal and wonderful all at once. Hearing the all out chick flick moment was almost painful.

She grabbed the notepad and began writing. Dean's brow furrowed when it took a little while for her to finish. She handed it to him.

"My fault too. I was stirring up trouble. I haven't been honest with you or Sam. I have been a big baby. You were right about that."

Dean shook his head, silently cursing. "I wasn't right about anything. You've been the most mature one in the house for awhile now. Whatever acting up you were doing, I know it was just a cry for help. I'm just sorry it took so long for me to hear you."

And that was true. Dean had been thinking about it since he'd left the hospital and most of the morning while he'd been waiting for the insurance guy. His sister had been doing so much, going through brutal physical therapy, seeing the shrink that he'd insisted on, and not really complaining about it. She'd even stopped taking her pills and suffered in silence. All she wanted was for her big brother to notice her. And he finally did.

Laney sniffled. Dean grabbed her hand. "Look at me," he said, thumbing away her tears.

She looked at him, her lip quivering.

"Things are going to change, I swear. We're in this together. Me, you and Sammy – the three of us against the world," said Dean.

Laney leaned in to hug him. He returned the embrace. "I'm so sorry," he whispered in her ear.

She pulled back and smiled at him, giving him a peck on the cheek.

Dean flushed slightly. He cleared his throat. "Not that you're completely off the hook," he said sternly, pointing a finger at her. "Ditching therapy and running off to the Roadhouse – we are still going to have a discussion about that. Oh, and throwing out your computer stuff and tracking down Gavin, and…"

Laney picked up the paper and pen and wrote quickly. She handed it to her brother.

"Shut up and go get me a Caramel Latte."

Dean blinked in surprise and amusement and then barked a hearty Dean Winchester – patented laugh. The one she hadn't heard in months.

Her heart soared.