Author's note: I do not own these characters and no copyright infringement is intended. Please read, review and enjoy!

Chapter 37

"I need a little time alone," Dean said without looking at Sam.

"Sure," Sam said, getting up and leaving him there. As he closed the sliding glass door behind him, he looked at Dean and noticed that although the panic was gone from his eyes, he was still troubled and obviously doing his level best to work through it.

As he approached the hallway, Sam's senses came alive with the combination of smells emanating from the kitchen and his belly grumbled. It wasn't until then that he realized they'd skipped lunch. Rounding the corner, he found Meranda at the sink washing some of the bowls and utensils they'd used in preparation and he silently slid back into position at the stove.

"Everything okay," Meranda asked, hopeful, still washing dishes.

"Yeah," Sam said with confidence. Although Dean hadn't told him his final decisions on everything, he knew that ultimately he really was going to be okay. It was a lot like accidentally cutting yourself – it hurts worse when you see it for the first time, you're convinced that it's worse than it really is, but more often than not, in the end it turns out to be a superficial flesh wound that will heal with minimal scarring.

They continued to work in relative silence, concentrating on the tasks at hand. Meranda and Sam were caught up in the making of dinner when Dean appeared in the doorway again. He had taken up the same position he'd been in before he left, but this time he seemed more…there. Sam cut his eyes at his brother who gave him a slight smile and nod.

When it looked like they were wrapping things up in the kitchen, Dean began setting the table. They sat through dinner exchanging small talk and cheerful banter. Dinner flowed seamlessly into clean-up and the next thing they knew they were discussing how to pass the evening.

Finally, after looking at her movie collection, it was decided that they would have a horror film fest. After lengthy discussions as to whether or not movies like "Jaws" could be considered horror flicks, which remakes were better or worse than their original predecessors and which sequels they thought had been a waste of time, they took turns picking their favorites until they had each chosen two and settled on a rotation – Dean, Meranda, then Sam. Despite the fact that chances were more than likely they wouldn't make it through all of them, everyone was satisfied with the general concept. When all was said and done, the movies were stacked beside the television in the order they were to be played: "Shaun of the Dead", "Alien", "The Exorcist", "Evil Dead 2", "The Shining" and "From Dusk Till Dawn".

"I'm gonna grab a quick shower before we get started if you two don't mind," Sam said. "If I'm gonna end up falling asleep to any one of these, I wanna at least be comfortable."

"Actually, that does sound good," Dean chimed in. He started to open his mouth, the invitation for Meranda to join him on the tip of his tongue, when Meranda turned toward the kitchen.

"That works! While you two shower, I'll make some popcorn and stock the cooler," she said jubilantly.

Dean couldn't decide if he were disappointed or grateful to have a reason not to continue speaking as he'd initially intended. By the time he'd decided the answer was a little of both, she was already getting involved in her project – more reason not to ask her…or maybe it was more of an excuse than a reason. Either way, he'd be showering alone.

He spent the ten minutes it took him from start to finish thinking about the decisions he'd made and how he was going to carry them out. He'd tried earlier to think past carrying them out, but every time he even attempted to approach it, he immediately felt an overwhelming fear that it might drown him. As he made his way back into the living room, now in boxers and a t-shirt and smelling squeaky clean, he welcomed the distraction the movies would bring.

As Dean sat at the end of the sofa, Sam opened the hall bath door. He turned off the light and headed back to the living room. Also in boxers and a t-shirt and smelling fresh, he grabbed a beer from the cooler on his way to sit in the crook of the couch.

Meranda placed a large bowl mounded with popcorn, a folded cloth in a shallow bowl of water and a small towel in the center of the coffee table in front of them. The brothers looked at the bowl of water, the towel and then each other with rising curiosity. Meranda watched their faces and burst into laughter.

"Wet cloth – to get the grease off your hands, dry cloth – to dry them," she pointed at them as she said it.

"Were you a girl scout or something?" Dean asked jokingly.

Chuckling, she replied, "Let's just say I've had a lot of practice in being prepared…like a thousand years of it."

"Well, I'd have to say you've pretty much perfected it," Dean teased.

She settled between them after putting the DVD into the player. As the trailers began to run, Dean leaned back and slid down into a more comfortable position, his arm instinctively going behind her. Grabbing the remote controls, she leaned back and nestled in next to him, curling her legs up beside her. As she got comfortable, Dean's arm slid around her, his hand coming to rest sandwiched between her side and her arm. Sam leaned toward her, resting on one elbow and putting his own legs up on the other end of the sofa. Once he was settled, she extended her legs toward him and he absently reached out, pulled them in front of him, putting one arm over her lower calves.

Halfway through the movie, Sam and Dean were critiquing the methods the characters were using for the umpteenth time, Meranda laughing at their quips and comments when Dean became aware of the fact they were sharing this not just in front of her, but with her...and sharing it as if it were the most natural thing for them to do. The realization stopped him in mid-sentence and looked at her in amazement.

"What?" Looking up at him, she laughed, her head now in his lap.

Dean's arm was over her chest, his hand resting on her shoulder. As his warm smile slowly appeared, he slid his hand up to her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb.

The look of wonder and bewilderment still apparent in his eyes, he replied, "Just…you."

Sam, who now had his arm over her thighs just above her knees, openly watched, smiling. When Dean looked at him, he nodded and winked before turning his attention back to the movie.

Meranda smiled back at him, put her hand on his and pulled it to her lips where she peppered it with kisses before focusing on the movie again...or at least focusing on it as much as she could. After the look in his eyes, not dipping into his feelings to find out what was going on with him required quite a bit of energy on her part. She knew that he'd been struggling, not only with all the information he'd had dumped on him, but with thoughts, feelings and emotions that were touching much closer to home than he'd expected.

When he had not only allowed her, but asked her to stop blocking him and see what he was feeling earlier, she'd found affection, caring, desire, warmth, tenderness, wonder and even love all snarled and tangled with confusion, surprise and, amazingly enough, anger. It reminded her of plugging in a massive knot of Christmas lights before investing the effort to straighten them out and finding that they all miraculously work. Her hopes were that he'd see the energy involved would be worth the fruit it would produce.

Now, his eyes told her there were things going on inside him and without "listening in", she would simply have to wait. The only thing stopping her from at least peeking was the fact that she knew without a doubt she wouldn't be able to hide her reaction – no matter which way she might find him leaning. So instead, she pointed her face at the television and pretended to watch it while putting all of her effort into fighting the urge to look inside him. Again, images of Christmas came to her, but this time of children eyeing packages under the tree with faces filled with longing. She chuckled a bit, but it coincided with part of the movie that was worthy of laughter so it went unnoticed by either of the brothers.

The longer she concentrated, the more tired she felt and before long, her eyes were closed and she had drifted off to sleep for the second time that day.