Heath debated whether to wake up the Blooms to tell them about the outcome of the scan or wait till later. He remembered their reactions at being woken up for the scan and decided it was best to wait, after all, there was nothing they could do. He would best use his time trying to find a solution. Time to make phone calls. By the time dawn rolled around, he was exhausted, but he had managed to find someone to help the Blooms, and it was time to tell them.

When he opened the door, Dean woke up and glared at him. He beckoned him out. With a low huff so as not to wake up his siblings, Dean stalked outside.

"What?" he asked ungraciously. Heath didn't blame him.

He broke the news quickly, and unemotionally, "The scan shows your sister has an epidural haematoma."

"Shit! Damn it!" Dean run a hand through his hair. He had expected a severe concussion, not this.

Heath was thrown. He had expected questions, along the lines of what is an epidural haematoma? What are its implications? What are the treatments? But this young man seemed to know all this. Heath found himself wondering again who these kids were.

"I was on the phone all night trying to find out the best solution and ..."

"It requires surgery, I know! Shit! Shit! Shit!" Dean began to pace. They didn't need this right now. He hadn't thought their fake insurance would cut it here, and fortunately it had not been required, thanks to Madeline. But even without her help, he could easily have bullshitted their way out or they would have easily run, but now, with a surgery on the books, those weren't options anymore.

"Hey, stop pacing and listen to me!"

The doctor's tone made Dean stop. Sam was right, he was a sucker for orders.

When he saw he had Dean's attention, the doctor continued. "I don't know how you know or how much you know about haematomas, but I've talked to a number of neurosurgeons and most agree that surgery might be avoided. Your sister has high scores on both the Glasgow and Rancho Los Amigos coma scales and neither score is decreasing, she amazingly doesn't have a fracture, she has not presented with hemiparesis, nor has she had a convulsion. The haematoma is small, its midline shift is minimal and it doesn't seem to be actively bleeding."

"But you saw her pupils. And that headache was really severe." Dean objected. He was not going to kill his sister because of his eagerness to hit the road.

"That was before we administered the IV. The Mannitol which has infused by now reduces intracranial pressure, the acetaminophen is not just a pain killer, it helps maintain normothermia and we're watching her closely, what do you think all those machines are for? We don't have a neurosurgeon on staff here, but a friend of mine will be by later."

Dean opened his mouth to object but the doctor cut across him. "He's discreet! Besides, your sister needs his expertise!"

"How long does she have to be under observation?" Dean asked duly chagrined.

"Until she recovers to baseline."

"Is Madeline still here?"

"Yes, why?"

"I need to go get my car."

"I'm going home for a bit, I can drive you."

"Eer …" Dean wasn't sure how much Madeline had told Dr. Roth and having the man drive to Madeline's to pick up the impala might raise questions.

Heath took the pause for pending refusal. "I'll get Madeline up!" he huffed and walked away.

"Thanks." Dean yelled at the retreating doctor.

Dean returned to the room and woke Sam up. "Hey, I'm going to get the car, then I'll go check us out of the motel."

"What? Why? What is wrong?"

"Mimi has an epidural haematoma …"

"Shit!"

"They're not going to operate, at least not yet, but she has to stay for observation. So we're not going anywhere as yet."

Madeline poked her head through the door. Sam waved at her and she waved back.

"Keep an eye on her and stay away from trouble, Sammy," Dean indicated Emily then left his brother's side and walked out of the room.

Sam and Dean knew everything there was to know about mild head injuries and concussions, sprains, dislocations and broken bones, lacerations, bites and puncture wounds, having suffered each and every one of those over the years, but they knew so much about epidural haematomas because six years back, John had had one.

They'd been hunting an Arrach in Montana when it had gotten the drop on John and thrown him off a cliff. Dean shot the creature with consecrated iron rounds and together he and Sam had scrambled to where John lay. He was out, had a head wound that was bleeding like mad, and his pupils were different sizes and not reactive. The boys had stopped the bleeding, but John had began to convulse. At the ages of fifteen and nineteen, neither brother had seen someone convulse before and that had scared them enough to take their father to a hospital even though they knew he would chew them out for that decision.

As it turned out, it was the right decision, because John had an epidural haematoma that had required surgery. The surgeon had told them John might still die. He hadn't, but he had been in a coma for three days and was too out of it to move for a further four days. They had skipped out of the hospital after ten days, and even then John was still experiencing motor problems. Sam and Dean had never been so scared ... up until then, their father had seemed invincible to them.

They'd holed up at Pastor Jim's and it had taken John two months to recover properly. During the three days John was in a coma, the boys had researched epidural haematomas like they were surgical residents.

Sam like Dean hadn't thought Emily had one, because she had not presented most of the symptoms one should. He'd thought she just had a bad concussion. Well, that showed how unpredictable head injuries could be. However, if the doctors were not operating, then it must be a small haematoma. He hoped it stayed that way and resolved itself quickly.

He had the quickest shower in the history of showers and returned to the room and watched his sister sleep.

Dean was bored. The music was terrible, the scenery was uninspiring. "How did you know to come? You couldn't have been planning to return until morning, I saw the bag you packed," he asked Madeline curiously.

"I was watching the exorcism."

"What? The movie?" Dean was genuinely puzzled. This woman just might be buckets of crazy. Just their luck.

"No, of the house, my house. We had security cameras installed and we can access them remotely. I was watching you guys from the hotel I was in!"

"What? You've got a video of us expelling the poltergeist?"

"Yes, you three are remarkable!"

"Well, do us a favour and destroy it. Okay?" he did not feel remarkable. He had gotten hurt and his siblings had nearly died, and one still might.

"Sure." Madeline agreed readily. She was not about to argue with him. He reminded her of John, in fact all three did, even the deceptively affable Sam and the deceptively sweet Emily. They were all dangerous.

Dean's phone rang. It was Bobby. He answered with a weary hey.

"What's wrong? Did the hunt go south? Sam? Emily?"

"We got the job done, the poltergeist is gone. Sam is okay. Emily will be. She took a hit to the head. You know hers isn't quite as hard as ours are, at least not yet." He tried to infuse joviality in his voice.

Bobby didn't buy it. "Concussion?"

Dean held his breath and let it out slowly. Even though Dr. Roth had tried to reassure him, he was still scared about Emily's chances. He remembered how bad John had been, he remembered that other doctor's voice telling him and Sam that John might most likely die. He remembered the terror of that time. His voice shook a little at the memories as he said, "It's an epidural haematoma," he paused for bit then continued, "but it's a small one. They're not even going to operate."

Bobby could tell Dean was shaken and was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to reassure Bobby. "Do you want me to come down?"

Dean would have given anything to say yes, but Bobby was still recovering from injuries from his own hunt and there was really nothing his presence would achieve. "No, don't worry about it. I've got it."

"Call me, okay?"

"Yeah. Take care of yourself."

"You too, say hey to the other knuckleheads will yah?"

"Sure thing!" Dean hang up.

"John?" Madeline asked after the silence had dragged on too long.

"No, Bobby. A friend." he answered, while his mind supplied, "And more of a father than John!"

"Is he a hunter too?"

"Yeah, one of the best. He's semi-retired now."

"How long have you guys been hunting?" she asked, "If you don't mind me asking, that is?" she amended swiftly.

"Twelve years," he answered with a hint of pride and sorrow.

Madeline gasped. She didn't think he was older than twenty five. He must have started as a child.

"Sam hunted for five years before leaving for college. He just got back into it. We've now been hunting together for nearly six months," he said flatly, but she sensed a strange mixture of sadness, fondness and pride.

Madeline wondered what had made the boy, Sam, return to hunting.

"Emily is a newbie. This is her first official hunt, but her actual second. She sneaked off to one before. Saved Bobby's life too!" this time Dean's voice carried exasperation together with the fondness, the pride, and the sadness.

"Really? The way she moved, I wouldn't have taken her for a novice!" Madeline said truthfully. She'd figured the girl had been actively hunting at least a year.

"That's because she's a quick study!" Dean said with pride. "And she's very determined!"

"Growing up with you and Sam must be very motivating!"

Dean's face fell. He knew Emily's motivation came from the same place as John's and Sam's. Revenge. Vengeance for those they had lost.

"We didn't grow up together," he said, and did not elaborate further. A part of him was glad Emily had not grown up with them and their dysfunction, while a part of him wished she had; having a sister was amazing and novel, he wondered how different things would have been if they'd known her since childhood, how different he and Sam would be, how different Emily would be. He was glad she had had a childhood, yet he was somewhat sad they hadn't been part of it. He was glad and proud that she had grown up independent, strong and smart, but he was a little sad he hadn't contributed anything to the person she was.

He loved Emily, but that small, unselfish part of him wished he'd never met her. Yes, he was glad her light had come into their darkness, but it saddened him too. He wished her life and theirs had not collided the way they had. If never knowing her meant she would never learn about this life, he would willingly let her go. It would break his heart, but he'd do it.

They were at the gate, Madeline let them in and drove up beside the impala. Dean didn't know the etiquette rules for this situation. Did he offer to go in with her? Did he thank her for the ride, get into his car and drive away? Damn it, social rules were impossible.

Madeline helped him out, "I know the house is a mess, but the kitchen is fine. I can whip you up some breakfast before you go. You can even have a shower if you want."

He got out of her car and stood undecided. "Come on!" she waved him in, "I won't bite, and it won't take long! I won't expect you to make small talk either. I have two teenagers who don't talk to me, I'm used to it."

Dean laughed, finally at ease, the woman had read his mind. He grimaced when he saw the great room.

"I've always hated that chandelier!" Madeline said dismissively.

Dean believed her. However, he couldn't escape the fact that the woman's house was trashed. "I'm sorry we didn't clean up."

"Oh you did. You got rid of the poltergeist. You cleaned up good. This?" she waved her hand around, "I'll get people to clean up and repair the damage."

"They shouldn't remove the bags from the walls," Dean cautioned.

"Okay. What was in them anyway?"

"Why? You wanna make some?" he laughed.

"Well, never know when such knowledge might come in handy!"

Dean told her and she scrambled to get a pen and wrote down the list at the back of a cook book. She then quickly whipped up a breakfast that made Dean miss his mother with an intensity he hadn't felt in a while. True to her word, Madeline did not start a conversation, but Dean soon got bored with the silence.

"How do you know our father anyway?" he was genuinely curious.

"If I told you, he'd have to kill me!" she deadpanned.

"Oh, you're a funny one!" Dean laughed.

Madeline grinned, "We met eleven years ago. I was on holiday in Savannah, with my parents and my kids, Peter, my husband was joining us later. John was there hunting a spirit as I later found out when it tried to kill both me and my mom and he saved us with the most ridiculous thing … salt!"

"Yeah, most people find it absurd that salt dispels many evil things."

"I know! I did too, but since I saw it happen with my own eyes, I'm a believer. We moved to this house five months ago and the weird stuff began two months later. At first, it wasn't too bad, things were moved from their places, or broken, and we simply blamed the kids, despite their protestations of innocence. Anyway, the activity began increasing in intensity and I thought it might be supernatural, but Peter thought I was nuts especially when I started pouring salt everywhere. Then it began targeting him and he finally agreed I call John. I didn't know about you guys by the way, until he said he'd send you. It was hard to imagine him as a father."

"Yeah, well, he is. Why didn't you just move?"

"That was never an option because then a clueless family with no knowledge of these things might move in. What if they got killed?"

"And your children? Weren't you worried about them?"

"My eldest two are at college, first and sophomore years, and I made sure my youngest was rarely here. These past three months have been the best of her life, sleepovers, visits with the grandparents … she's had quite a blast. She's going to get a rude awakening now, the holiday is over!" Madeline laughed.

Dean made a funny sound, between a laugh, a snort and a huff. This woman was a good mom and a noble person.

She got up and left the room, then returned with an envelope and handed it to Dean.

"What's this?" he asked refusing to take it.

"Our way of saying thanks! Peter okayed this as well."

"What? We don't do this for pay!"

"I know, but you deserve it."

"I can't take this."

"You can, and you will. You saved my life and my family's lives. I can never repay you and your brother and sister and this is the least I can do."

"But …"

"Take it. Trust me, we won't miss it. With your lifestyle, I'm sure you need it and deserve it more than we do. Think of Sam and Emily."

It was for his siblings that Dean took the envelope. "Thank you," he said. Then he stood up to leave.

She walked him to the front door. "I need to stay here, to let in the workers and supervise the repairs, but I'll swing by the centre later on," she said.

"You don't have to."

"I know, but I want to, besides, my kids are not here so I've adopted you three for the time being!"

"So that would make me the sophomore, Sam the first year and Emily the kindergartner? Oh ho, she'll kill you!" Dean laughed as he pictured that. He got into his car and drove away still chortling. He went to the motel and packed up, making sure not to leave anything behind. Then he drove back to the centre, much to Helen's delight.

When Sam had told Emily that she had an haematoma, a part of her had been relieved that she was not being a baby, that her headache was a sign of something serious. Another part of her felt guilty that she was the reason they were not going to leave the town as soon as they would have liked. She did not want to be a burden, but she had somehow managed to become one on the hunt. As if sensing her feelings, Sam had told her that getting hurt on a hunt did not make her weak. After all, they had all gotten hurt. What mattered was that they had finished the job.

When Dean returned, he reiterated Sam's words and the three hunkered down for the hospital stay, secure in the fact that they had saved a family.