Being woken up by someone poking your face was exactly as fun as it sounded. I groggily rolled over, snuggling closer to Dean. "Your daughter's awake."

He willingly threw an arm over me to draw me in. "Your daughter?" he questioned without opening his eyes.

"Before sunrise she's your daughter," I quipped, giggling when he squinted one skeptical eye. I placed a quick kiss to his lips as our three-year-old pounced on him.

"Wake up," she grumpily insisted, smooshing his face to get her point across.

"My Aurora, always up before the sun," he said, allowing her to contort his face. "Remind me why we named her that again?" he asked, looking over at me.

I pulled her into my lap when she started bouncing on his chest. "Because she's the light of our life," I said, rubbing our faces together, "and we never wanted to sleep in on Saturdays again. Isn't that right, Rory?"

"Yep!" she laughed, not having a clue what we were talking about. "Time for breakfast," she yelled, climbing off the bed.

"Pancakes?" I asked Dean as I watched her run out the door and down the stairs.

"Sounds good," he said, swinging his legs off the bed to make his way to our bathroom. I smacked him as he walked by, a sly grin on my face. "Better watch yourself, Winchester," he warned over his shoulder.

"Make me," I teased, leaning on the bathroom door frame, ready to take my punishment.

He chuckled, shaking his head at me. "I know you didn't sleep well last night," he said, instead preparing to shower.

"I had that dream again," I confessed, looking at my reflection in the mirror, steam starting to gather at the corners. I shivered despite the heat in the room.

"The one where you're in the cave?" I didn't have to confirm it for him; it was the only recurring dream I'd had over the years. "Well, no wonder you stole all the covers last night."

I rubbed my arms, fighting off a chill. "I can't help it. It just makes me feel so cold. Like I'm actually freezing to death."

"You know it's just stress induced, baby," he assured me. I snorted at the simplicity. Of course, I was stressed; I had a toddler and career to keep up with and not a lot of time for yoga.

"I'm pretty sure I can hear Rory destroying the kitchen," I told him, excusing myself from the conversation. Talking about it only ever seemed to unnerve me more.

"You're a great mom," he hollered after me, sending a blush to my cheeks. He always knew when I needed a well-placed compliment. It only took a few words from him to put me back at ease.

"What are we gonna do today, Rory?" I asked after sending Dean off to work and cleaning up our pancake mess. She was about to answer when a knock on the front door interrupted her. Strange, I wasn't expecting anyone today. Mary and John weren't supposed to come down until next weekend either. "Coming," I shouted, jogging to the foyer.

A large form paced the deck through the frosted glass as I moved to open the door. Wearing jeans and a work jacket, stood the younger Winchester brother. "Sam?" I said, catching him off guard. He started, turning towards me with a wild look in his eye. Something seemed off about him, his mouth working wordlessly. "We weren't expecting you. Is everything alright? Is something wrong with Jess and the baby?" I asked, concern starting to grip me. Jess hadn't had the easiest pregnancy and we were all anxious to see the baby safely delivered.

He shut his mouth, face faltering for a moment. "Y-yeah. Everything's fine. Can- can I come in?" He gestured behind me to the house.

I welcomed him in, taking his coat. He was jittering, jumping every time we accidentally bumped into each other. I turned to take him into the kitchen when Rory raced by. "Uncle Sammy!" she squealed, attaching herself to his leg.

His eyes swelled, nervously glancing between us. Surely, he saw the same things I did; Dean's bright green eyes above freckled cheeks and dirty blonde hair. I joked I had carried her for nine months and only given her my thick curls, but Dean always assured me there was more. I never argued; I preferred she take after him.

"Rory, he just walked in the door," I lightly scolded her, trying to extract her.

She was having none of it, fistfuls of his jeans in her tiny hands. "No, mommy," she told me firmly.

"Oh?" I said, a dangerous tone in my voice, hands on my hips. She buried her face, thinking she wouldn't get in trouble if she couldn't see me.

Sam intervened right as I was about to smack her bottom. "It's fine," he promised me, gathering her in his arms. I pursed my lips, noticing the hesitation he had when settling her on his hip. Happy as a clam, she clung to his neck, peppering him with kisses.

"Time for the adults to talk," I told her after he set her down. "Take Zeppelin into the living room with you." Hearing his name, our Great Pyrenees ambled down the stairs. I shook my head as he pushed between Sam and me, following Rory. "Who knew he herded toddlers as well as sheep," I jested.

Sam didn't chuckle like he normally did, simply trailing behind me. I offered him something to drink, though he politely declined. I decided to make us cups of hot tea anyways. I could feel his eyes on my back as I moved around the kitchen.

"What's wrong, Sam?" I finally asked, leaning against the counter, opposite him. He stared into the dark drink, refusing to meet my gaze. I watched the muscles in his jaw work, chewing on words he was too afraid to say. "Why are you really here?"

"You wouldn't believe me," he mumbled, shaking his head in denial.

"Try me," I challenged.

He sucked in a deep breath, expelling it quickly before speaking. "This- this place isn't real. None of it is." His face scrunched, waiting for my explosive reaction.

"I know," I told him calmly, pushing off the counter to stand upright.

"Y-you know?" he stuttered in surprise. "Whaddaya mean you know?" he asked, arms waving about as he raised the volume of his voice.

I peevishly crossed my arms over my chest, not liking his tone. "I'm not an idiot," I snapped. "And I'm a little upset you think so."

"I'm sorry, but you're sitting here playing house. What the hell was I supposed to think?" He trembled as he spoke, more upset than I had ever seen him. Based on his reaction, something was very wrong.

I took a deep breath to calm myself before continuing our argument. Rory was in the other room and I didn't want her to hear yelling. "I couldn't find a way out," I said through gritted teeth, "so I improvised. Did what I had to."

"Marrying my brother?" he snorted, eyes rolling so hard I wanted to slap him.

"Don't give me that 'holier than thou' crap, Sam!" I hissed. "We all want an apple pie life! So, what if it happened to be Dean? I didn't ask for this. But this place gave me a chance and I took it. So sue me!" I was angry now, chest heaving as I threatened him across the countertop.

"A dream! It's a dream!" he yelled back, slapping the table between us.

"No, it's not, cause I can't control it," I retorted smugly, nose in the air. Let him feel bad for yelling at me now.

"You can't?" His face contorted in confusion, not sure what to think. I could see the calculations happening behind his eyes.

Our screaming match done, I reached for his hand in a peace offering. I wanted to ask him how'd he gotten here, but I stopped. Recoiling in pain, I dropped his hand, pulling mine to my chest.

"You're burning up!" I cried, massaging the burning sensation out of my hand. It felt like touching a hot oven but had left no marks on my skin.

Sam face was dead serious now, staring at me. "No, you're freezing. How long have you been here?"

I shook my head, trying to remember. All these memories tended to run together after so long. "Ah, five years or so, I think. Why?"

Somber turned to dread as I answered him. "You've been gone three days." His voice trembled as he continued. "Avery, I think you're dying."

I scoffed, not wanting to believe him. "Not possible. I feel perfectly fine." I searched his eyes for a hint that he was joking, trying to pull one over on me. I knew him too well to imagine anything into his expression. This was no laughing matter to him.

"Yeah, cause this place is meant to keep you complacent until you're a dried-out husk in a Djinn's liar."

"How do you know it's a Djinn?" I questioned.

A hint of a smile pulled at his mouth. "Lucky guess. Seems a lot like Dean's apple pie life," he said, glancing around at the kitchen.

He was right. When we had rescued Dean, his dream sounded like the life I was living now. Everything we had ever wanted, served up unconditionally on a silver platter; ripe for the taking. It didn't surprise me we had both fallen for the Djinn's trick.

Feeling the need to sit down, I shakily grabbed the chair next to Sam. Careful not to touch him, I could feel the heat radiating off him. We sat thinking, the house eerily silent. I didn't know what he'd used to get here, but it seemed like we were both stuck for the foreseeable future.

Sam broke the silence first, his focus more concentrated than mine. "Do you know where your body is?"

I gave a sardonic chuckle. "If I knew that, we wouldn't be in this mess."

He made an unamused noise. "You're just so cold. I wonder if you're outdoors," he speculated out loud.

"One night outside in Colorado and I'd have frozen to death." I rubbed my arm, fighting off the bone-chilling feeling of fear. Thinking of your own impending doom tended to do that.

He agreed with me, chin propped up in his hand. "Outdoors, but not outside," he mused. "What about-"

"A cave," we said simultaneously. My recurring nightmare came rushing back in my mind's eye. Lying on the cool, dank ground with water steadily dripping in the background, shivering uncontrollably.

"Lucky guess," I said when he turned to question me. All this time I'd had a window into the real world, and I hadn't seen it. Or maybe I hadn't wanted to. Sam glanced at the watch on wrist, then at me. I knew what he was trying to say. "It's time for you to go."

He cleared his throat, nodding. He pulled me into a desperate hug, not touching my skin. "We're gonna find you. Dean's already out there looking," he promised. "Hold on a little longer," he pleaded, pressing a kiss to my forehead. It left a small burning sensation on my scalp.

I pasted on a brave face. "You look scared," I teased, pulling on his hair.

"Terrified," he admitted. I smacked him playfully, which earned me a smile. I couldn't have him acting like he'd never see me again.

"Can we keep this between us?" I asked, stopping him before he opened the front door. He never answered, giving me a soft look over his shoulder as he walked out.

The click of the door locking in place reverberated around me. When I had the courage to turn around, a different house greeted me. It was still my childhood home, but the flair my dream had added was gone. The walls were bare, all furniture gone. My footsteps echoed across the laminate floors as I trudged to the kitchen, the only person left inside.

I needed to use the phone; to make one last call. Listening to the line ring, I stared at two pictures that had appeared on the counter. The first held my family, smiling at a joke we had since forgotten. The second was Sam, Dean, and I, sprawled across Bobby's couch after a hunt.

"I love you," I whispered, tracing the frame as the seconds ticked by.

The person on the other end of the line picked up, but I wasn't there to hear it.

My vision shook so violently, I thought I might be caught in an earthquake. But as I clawed at the ground, I realized I was shivering. I couldn't feel most of my body, making it hard to get up from my prone position. Not to mention, my brain felt like it had liquified into putty.

"W-w-work, d-damnit," I growled, flexing my fingers repeatedly. I had to move if I was going to stand a chance against the Djinn, which seemed unlikely given my state.

"Woah, hey! Take it easy," someone called ahead of me, dark form running at me.

I had to squint in the dim light to make out who it was. "Dean," I sighed, never so happy to see him in my life. He seemed equally relieved, crouching beside me. "N-next t-t-time I'm saving y-you, okay?" I chattered, letting him help me sit upright.

"Whatever you say, short stuff," he chuckled, sitting next to me in the dampness.

I started to rub my blue fingers together until I noticed Dean removing his clothing. "W-what the h-hell a-are you d-doing?" I asked, stunned. His bare chest had the classic tattoo and numerous scars I had missed.

"You've got hypothermia," he said, working my jacket off without hurting my frozen joints. "Sam's at least an hour away; and last time I checked, you wanted to keep all ten fingers and toes." He left my bra on, thinking it funny to pretend like he was undoing it. I smacked him best as I could, sending needles up the length of my arm. I gritted my teeth against the pain as he lightly apologized, resisting the urge to hit him again. When he was done, he moved behind me so I was braced between his legs.

I wanted to back talk, insist there was another way. But the heat radiating from him drew me in like a firefly to a bug zapper. I snuggled against his chest, hearing him inhale sharply when my icy fingers snaked around his midsection. Pulling his jacket around our shoulders, we sat huddled together in the gloomy cave.

It was excruciating, feeling myself defrost against the furnace of his skin, but I welcomed it. The pain spoke of the life I had left within me, refusing to give up; while the warmth signified Dean was in fact real. My mind was still playing tricks on me, remnants of the poison, but this was irrefutable evidence. It felt like the only thing grounding me to reality.

The silence should have been deafening for as long as we sat there, yet we seemed to be basking in each other's company. He rubbed my back in soothing circles, threatening to lull me to sleep. "What did you see?" he asked quietly after a while, curiosity getting the better of him.

My mind exhausted, I let the words roll off my tongue without thinking. "A dream that felt like a memory. Where instead of all this, I had you. And life was beautifully simple, and we were happy." I didn't have the capacity to be embarrassed, instead snuggling my head into the crock of his neck. A faint smile graced my lips as the last hazy image from the dream left my mind. Who needed a fantasy when I had the real thing right in front of me? He didn't respond, his hand still moving in the rhythmic motion. "What about you?" I slurred, my eyelids becoming heavy.

He wrapped his arms around me to draw me to his chest as my eyes closed. "That sounds about right," he whispered in my ear, careful not to wake me.