"There must be something we can do!" Sam run a hand through his hair, in agitation. The undercurrent of worry and fear in the room was palpable. It was now seven days since they'd stopped Connor, six days since the police station breach and the factory fire that had left the local police humiliated and in a rage. But with no leads, except the statement of a deranged killer, the rage did not translate into action. Sam and Emily had followed the news diligently and had been relieved they'd not missed anything that would lead the police to them. So they were not worried or scared of the police, or even the FBI who had nothing to go on and had just come to the town mostly to tell off the police for their mishandling of the case. The worry and fear was because Dean was still out. Sam had had to return to the hospital to get more supplies. He had fitted Dean with an IV and a catheter, something that had freaked Emily out. Since the original curse had been meant to kill Dean in a week, Sam had projected that the reverse spell would take a week to work. But this was the seventh day and Dean was not waking up. What if he never did?

Emily looked up from her book. Sam was now pacing the room with his hands laced on top of his head. She was feigning a calm she did not feel. She and him had an unspoken rule where only one of them was allowed to fall apart at a time. When she was the one overwhelmed and panicking, Sam was unflappable. A certified Dr. Ice. Seemed like it was her turn to be cool today.

"What do you propose we do, Sam?" Subconsciously she reached out a hand and run it through Dean's hair.

Her reasonable, let's think logically and not emotionally for a second tone made Sam briefly stop his pacing. He glanced over at the bed. Emily barely left Dean's side, only moving for bathroom and food breaks. She'd even wanted to have her meals there, but Sam drew the line at that. He didn't want to share the bed with cockroaches along with his siblings. He noticed Emily's unaware gesture and it made him wonder whether she was trying to infuse her life force with Dean's, or whether she was trying to ground him here with them and keep him from checking out, or whether she was comforting him or comforting herself. It struck him that his and her positions today were a reversal of yesterday's.

"What if he doesn't wake up?"

"He will!" Emily said with so much conviction, Sam stopped pacing again to stare at her in surprise. Dean did that sometimes, spoke with conviction even when his mind was teeming with doubt. Emily was channeling Dean!

"Maybe we should call Bobby." he suggested.

"We promised we wouldn't."

"He'd never know!" Sam said of Dean.

"But we would, and Bobby would." Emily admonished.

"So you'd rather he dies?" Sam's voice was getting louder.

"He's not going to die."

"How do you know?" He was even louder than before.

"I don't, okay! I'm trying to be positive!" Emily snapped. "Besides, you made the stupid promise first. I just followed your lead!"

"Oh, oh, so now you're blaming me for all of this!"

"Dammit, I'm not blaming you! I'm just saying!"

It was amazing how suddenly the conversation had turned into a shouting match. Both knew they were not mad at each other, or even Dean, or the promise; they were just scared. And being cooped indoors certainly didn't help. They were going stir crazy.

"Yeah, I know what you're saying." Sam deflated as suddenly as he'd exploded. With a sigh, he sat down at the foot of the bed and looked at his siblings.

Emily's eyes that had been blazing, softened considerably. "I'm calling Bobby tomorrow for the usual check-in. I'll tell him." she conceded. She crawled over the bed to sit next to Sam. Leaning into him, she smiled slightly. "Dean will be fine. He's much too flamboyant to check out this way!"

"I know! He's more a blaze of glory kind of guy, right?" Sam smiled too. Of course the smiles were strained, nearly forced, but at least they were there. The day went excruciatingly slow, with both Sam and Emily listless from lack of activity.

At night, they fell asleep in their now usual positions besides Dean. About three hours later, Sam was torn from his sleep by a whimper. He immediately thought it was Emily, but her confused, sleepily uttered 'Sam?' made him realise it wasn't. In a slight panic, he groped for the light and turned it on. As he'd moved, so had Emily. She was kneeling on the bed and her terrified eyes swung to him for the briefest of moments before they returned to Dean.

In a fluid movement, Sam was on his feet and leaning over the bed. It looked like every single muscle in Dean's body was in spasm. His back was arched, lifting him off the bed and his whole body was humming with tension. He had a such a powerful grip on Emily's hand, that her fingers were crunched together, and Sam knew she'd be in pain, if she hadn't been so scared. What shocked him was the fact that Dean's grip wasn't a conscious effort, and what scared him was the fact that Dean's eyes were wide open and filled with a pain and terror so deep it froze Sam just like it had frozen Emily. However, what broke his heart were Dean's whimpers of 'Help! Help me! Sammy? Mimi? Please help me!' but there was nothing either of them could do. They didn't know what was happening, and didn't know how to help. Their faces were pale, drained of blood in their fear and worry.

Emily kept calling Dean's name, but got no response. Sam's increasingly harder slaps to Dean's cheek were just as effect-less. There was no indication that Dean was even aware of his siblings' presence. Finally, Sam grabbed the hand that held Emily's and pried it open finger by finger to free her. She cradled her hand to her chest, but otherwise, didn't move.

Then as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Dean's whimpers turned into breathy moans, then he collapsed back onto the bed and lay still again. Sam and Emily's eyes widened in horror. Neither wanted to check. Neither wanted proof that their brother was dead. Minutes passed before Sam snapped out of his shock. He nearly collapsed in relief when he found a heartbeat.

"There's a heartbeat," he told Emily.

For a second she didn't respond, then she gulped in air and began to sob; loud, heaving sobs of relief and joy. She gathered her unresponsive brother in a hug. With tears falling down his own cheeks, Sam got onto the bed and wrapped his arms round both his siblings.

Sam and Emily didn't want to, but much later they fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

Dean woke some time in the night. He felt no pain and yet he didn't feel drugged. But he felt a weakness that he didn't think he'd ever overcome, and such a looseness of limbs, he believed he'd collapse like a marionette with broken strings if he tried to move. However, what he was most acutely aware of and grateful for, was his siblings' presence. Emily who as usual was sleeping on her side, had snuggled so close to him, her breath was tickling his neck, and her knee was digging into his side. The space between him and Sam was only marginally larger, a distance of maybe two centimetres, but Sam had flung an arm over Dean's chest, as if he had needed to reassure himself that Dean was still alive. With a bony knee in his side and a heavy arm on his chest, Dean really shouldn't have been feeling as comfortable as he was, but he'd never felt more snug. He smiled in the darkness, his heart filled with love for these sentimental dorks. He didn't want to move, not wanting to disturb either sibling, but the discomfort of the catheter couldn't be ignored. Fuck! What? His mind that had been foggy with sleep and contentment at having his siblings next to him cleared in a flash. He had a catheter on! When had that happened? Why had Sam fitted him with a catheter? God, he hoped it was Sam who had done it. He would never be able to look Emily in the eye if it had been her. Thankfully it was a texas catheter and not a foley. He could take that off himself.

He carefully moved Sam's arm off his chest and sat up, noticing the tubeless cannula in his arm. A catheter and an IV? What the hell? Whatever had happened must have been bad. Bad enough that his siblings had fitted him with these things, and climbed into bed with him. He crawled towards the foot of the bed as he couldn't get off from either side. It felt wonderful to hit the ground without feeling like he was going to literally fall into broken pieces. There was no pain, and even though he felt weak and shaky, his muscles and bones didn't seem to have suffered long lasting effects due to the curse. Evidently the curse had been lifted. But how? The last he remembered, he'd been launching himself at that bastard. What had happened? His siblings were safe, so they must have gotten out. Emily! She'd been counting on him to take out Connor. Had he been able to do so? Or had she had to take on the madman herself? How had they gotten back to the room? He decided there was no sense in asking himself so many questions. He'd wait and ask his siblings.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand to use its light. It glowed showing the time and date. What? He'd been out for seven days? No wonder they'd fitted him with a catheter and an IV. Using the phone's light, he rummaged for a bandaid in the first aid box and hobbled to the bathroom. He looked at his reflection. He needed a shave and a burger, or three! He carefully removed the cannula and taped down the site with the bandaid, then he removed the catheter and its corresponding bag, made a face and chucked everything in the trashcan. He wiped himself down, and changed into another pair of sweats.

He crawled back into the bed. He was surprised neither sibling woke up, considering how easily they startled. They must have been exhausted. "I love you guys!" he whispered in the darkness, aware he rarely said the words when his siblings were respondent.

When he woke up in the morning, they were both gone. He felt a twinge of disappointment and then laughed at his sappiness. Then a flash of fear tore through him, only dispelled when he heard the shower running. He figured one was in there and the other had probably gone to get breakfast. He got out of the bed and stretched and since he was in the room alone, he performed a ridiculous dance of joy, simply because he could.

He took down the IV bag that was hooked to the light fixture and threw it in the bin. He wondered what the housekeeping woman would think when they left and she could finally clean the room. He knew Emily would hide a tip somewhere to compensate the woman. He chuckled and scratched at his beard. God, whoever was in the shower needed to get out soon so he could get rid of the itchy hair.

Then as if in synchronisation, both the shower door and the front door opened.

"Dean!" Sam spoke in a hushed voice, while Emily whispered. Both voices carried unmistakable joy. Both pairs of eyes lit up.

Then Emily flew the distance between her and Dean and launched herself into his arms. She didn't care if her brothers teased her for this display for the rest of her life. Sam walked more sedately, but he still covered the distance in less time than he usually did. Dean held his siblings. They were both shaking with emotion. He didn't know what had happened in those days he'd lost, but whatever it was, he knew it had really scared them. When they finally drew away, looking a little sheepish, he grinned at them.

"Oh, did you two miss me?" he quipped with a smile. The question asked lightly, was a cover for the rage and guilt he'd felt at seeing his siblings. Sam's wrists were still bound, and Dean knew underneath the shirts his brother's chest was bandaged. Emily's black eye was still slightly coloured, and the wound on her lip had scabbed over. He'd also not missed the fact that she'd slightly favoured one leg as she'd run to him. That his siblings were hurt, and he'd not been able to stop them from getting hurt made him want to punch a wall.

"As if we'd miss a jerk like you!" Sam protested with an even bigger grin.

"Bitch!" Dean said back fondly.

"Gosh, that morning breath! Peeeww! I liked you better when you were asleep!" Emily added.

"Punk!" was Dean's goodnatured rejoinder.

They insisted he have a shower and a shave before they sat down to breakfast, during which they filled him in on what had gone down in the factory, and what they'd done to keep the authorities from their back. Of course they left out the fact that they'd hidden him in the closet during that time. Dean heartily approved of their actions.

"That was brilliant!" he enthused. "You committed larceny, arson and illegal hacking? There's hope for you geeks after all!"

"I'm not sure whether your approval is a good thing or a disturbing thing!" Sam remarked lightly.

"Whatever! But how am I here?" Dean asked. The smiles his siblings had been wearing fell. Dean immediately guessed why. "Connor's dead too, isn't he?"

"At 3 a.m this morning." Emily confirmed. The exact time Dean had had his weird reaction.

"We found out from the sunrise news this morning." Sam added, "No one can explain how all the bones in his body shattered when he was locked in a padded cell. Internal Affairs is probably going to investigate."

Sam knew he had indirectly caused Connor's death by reversing the spell on Dean, but he wasn't conflicted and the guilt he felt was not debilitating. Maybe it just hadn't hit him yet. Still, he was glad when Dean said, "It wasn't your fault!"

Sam disagreed but when he remembered holding Emily that night as she cried over Keith's death, he decided for her sake not to disagree with Dean.

They left after breakfast, and made a day of it in Cowpens National Park much to Sam and Emily's obvious glee, and Dean's too, though he successfully pretended otherwise. He had decided they would head to Bobby's, take a load off and then pick up the hunts again.

"This is super good," Emily remarked as she took another bite of the dessert she was sharing with Dean. The buttery cake had a layer of pudding and sliced fruit in the middle, topped with whipped cream and a chocolate covered strawberry.

"Yeah, even though it has fruits in it and it's not pie!" Dean agreed.

They were in Lexington, Kentucky having broken the drive for a lunch break. The small diner they'd found didn't have pie so Emily had ordered the cake. Dean had had to be coaxed into trying it, and now he wouldn't stop eating it.

Sam rolled his eyes. Yes, Dean was back. That comment right there was proof, as was the subsequent absurd conversation.

Dean thinking back to the case, asked, "Rae, would you date me if we weren't related?"

She looked at him with a huge smile, "No way!"

"Why not? I'm adorable!"

Emily laughed before speaking, "You're a sloth when it comes to cleanliness ..."

"It only looks that way because you and Sammy are anal about cleanliness." Dean interrupted.

Emily's lips quirked at this. "You've got a one track mind …"

"I prefer to call it focused!"

"Your one liners are atrocious …"

"They're classics!" Dean protested.

"Mmm, nuh huh! But to give you the benefit of the doubt, maybe they were classics in the stone ages!"

Sam laughed heartily at this.

"You're a huge man-slut …" Emily continued

"Only because the ladies can't resist me!" Dean waggled his eyebrows.

Emily rolled her eyes and snorted a laugh. "And you're delusional!"

"What? Me?"

"Yeah! You think you're adorable!"

Sam just about died laughing. Dean mock glared at him.

"Would you date Sammy?"

"It's Sam, and of course she would, I'm awesome!" Sam replied. He couldn't believe he'd been dragged into this ridiculous discussion.

"Nope!" Emily burst his bubble.

"Hey!" Sam said, pretending to be affronted.

"Well, you're anal about cleanliness!" Emily's eyes twinkled with mirth.

Dean exploded with laughter, "What did I tell you, Sammy?"

"So are you, perfect match, right there!" Sam pointed out to Emily.

"Well, I'd be a kitchen slave cos you can't cook to save your life!" she wasn't conceding.

"We'd eat out." Sam knew better than to deny that, because he really couldn't cook. Everyone knew that.

"And afford it how exactly?"

"We're both smart, we'd figure it out."

"Flattery will get you everywhere! I change my mind, yes, I'd marry you if we weren't related!"

"Hey! Not fair!" Dean protested.

All joking aside, Emily thought her brothers were good men, and would make good husbands, and exceptionally good fathers. The women they married would be very lucky indeed. And yet, those women would also be unlucky. Emily loved her brothers, but she readily admitted that Sam and Dean had been emotionally damaged by John's lukewarm parenting, by a lack of healthy relationships, and by a series of unacknowledged, unresolved traumas they'd been exposed to while still so young. As a result, the two of them had trust issues and were extremely codependent, a trait she was beginning to develop despite her best attempts not to. Furthermore, they held everyone to extremely high standards and very few people could attain those standards and even fewer people could maintain them. So sooner or later their wives would fall off those pedestals, and they would fall a very, very long way down. It would be hard for anyone to recover from that, trust issues aside. Still, Emily would never ever trade her brothers in for anyone else. And she was glad they'd all made it out of the last hunt okay.

"Would either of you date me?" she asked holding back a laugh as she knew the answers were going to be ridiculous.

"You wear socks to bed!" Sam started it off.

"My toes get cold!" she defended.

"You're high maintenance!" Dean continued.

"No, I'm not!" Emily protested.

"Well, okay, you're not," Dean conceded, "but I wouldn't know that looking at you, so I'd probably burst a nut trying to make you comfortable!"

"That would be your own fault for judging a book by its cover!" Emily spoke between breathless laughter.

"You drive like a maniac!" Sam complained.

"You only think so, Sammy because you drive like a grandmother!" Dean teased his brother, who glared at him. "You're a geek!" he added to Emily.

"Poh! That makes me useful!"

"You like Nickelback." Dean said like this was the ultimate character flaw.

"Guilty pleasure." Emily didn't deny this. "By the way, many people secretly like Nickelback. They're just too chicken to admit it. Bet you know all the words to Rockstar!" she said to him.

"And Next Contestant!" Sam quipped with a cheeky smile, glad to get back his brother.

Emily snorted, "Figures you'd like that one. Oh Dean, you're so predictable!"

With a smile on his face, Dean watched them laugh at his expense. Back in Greenville, after he'd woken up from his week long nap, he'd noticed it almost immediately; the light in Emily's eyes had dimmed. That had broken his heart. But seeing her now, he noticed it was flickering back to life. He and Sam just needed to nurture it back to full strength. She'd be okay. They'd all be okay.

Even as he laughed, Sam watched Dean. Sam knew many people found it challenging to document Dean's true feelings and thoughts because of his shell. Dean dismissed his concerns with a joke or by showing a tough unfeeling exterior. Even their father didn't really know how to read Dean. Sam was the Dean expert, Emily was fast becoming equipped and Bobby was better than he let on. So Sam knew Dean was feeling guilty for having been out of it when the fight had gone down, he hated and felt guilty that Sam and Emily had been hurt, he felt guilty for the guilt Emily was feeling. He felt it was his burden to bear. Dean would gladly die for his siblings. It was right there in his eyes. What he failed to realise, however, was that they too would die for him. Sam wondered whether Dean would ever know that.

"Okay Cagney and Lacey, get ready to hit the road!" Dean said getting up.

"Hey!" Both Sam and Emily objected. But Dean was already on his way to the bathroom, his chortles carrying back to his siblings.

Sam raced to the bathroom as well. He waylaid Dean on the way out and said what he'd been dying to say for a while. "Don't take away her victory Dean."

"What?"

"This hunt. Emily did well on this hunt. Don't take that away from her. It's bad enough she's torn up over Keith's death, so don't take away the victory too."

"I wouldn't do that!" Dean protested.

"But you are doing it. Every time you feel guilty for having not been there, you take away her win!"

"Are you saying you don't want me to feel bad that she was hurt? That you were hurt?" Dean was incredulous.

"No! That's not it. You're our brother, of course you feel terrible that we got hurt, we feel the same way about what happened to you. What we don't want is for you to feel guilt. We know you didn't check out willingly, and we don't blame you, but when you feel guilty about not being there for the fight, you're inadvertently claiming ownership of it. It's selfish and it's conceited for you to think you're the only one who can do the job. Also, imagine what it does to her self-esteem!"

"Oh!" Dean had never really thought of that before. But now that he did, he realised it was true. When his father had finally let him hunt solo, he'd been so proud, and even though he'd gotten badly hurt on that hunt, he'd felt a sense of achievement because he'd finished it. His father had patched him up, praising him for a job well done, and not once had the man expressed guilt that it wasn't he who had handled the hunt. Dean realised that would have made him feel inadequate in a way his injuries hadn't.

"Besides, you're not superman …" Sam continued.

"That's because I'm Batman!" Dean interrupted in a husky affected voice.

Sam laughed then continued where he'd left off, "… and you shouldn't feel bad when you personally don't save the day, and just be glad when the day is saved."

"By Nightwing and Robin!"

"That's the same person!"

"What? And you call yourself a geek? Robin became Nightwing then a new guy became Robin then he …"

"First, I don't call myself a geek. You do. Second, the point wasn't about Nightwing and Robin, but it's actually a good analogy so I'll use it. When Nightwing or Robin or both save the day, Batman doesn't sit around beating himself up because he wasn't the one who saved the day, as that would be redundant and insulting to his sidekicks."

Dean did get it. And he felt immensely lighter as the guilt lifted from his shoulder. Still, he couldn't help messing with his brother. "So we're in agreement that I'm Batman?"

Sam produced a killer bitch-face and walked out of the bathroom. Dean's chuckles followed him to the car where Emily was waiting. She called shotgun making Sam's bitch-face even more epic.

Nearly an hour into the drive, with the radio blasting what Sam liked to call mullet rock, Dean spoke, shouting to be heard over the music. "By the way, Rae, you kicked ass on that hunt!"

Emily didn't ask 'really' just so she could hear the compliment again. Instead, she grinned and shouted back, "Thanks! I learnt from the best!"

Sam smiled. Yes, they would all be fine.

And the next song, 'Hold On' by Kansas seemed like a good omen.

Look in the mirror and tell me

Just what you see

What have the years of your life

Taught you to be

Innocence dyin' in so many ways

Things that you dream of are lost

Lost in the haze

Hold on, Baby hold on

'Cause it's closer than you think

And you're standing on the brink

Hold on, Baby hold on

'Cause there's something on the way

Your tomorrow's not the same as today

Don't you recall what you felt

When you weren't alone

Someone who stood by your side

A face you have known

Where do you run when it's too much to bear

Who do you turn to in need

When nobody's there

Outside your door he is waiting

Waiting for you

Sooner or later you know

He's got to get through

No hesitation and no holding back

Let it all go and you'll know

You're on the right track

Right then, none of them was scared about what life threw at them. As long as they had each other, they were sure everything would be okay. As long as they held on to love.

~the end~