I appreciate your reviews Emily and DeanandSamsGirl! I always enjoy them and you guys give great feedback. I'm glad you liked your shoutout, it was definitely along the lines of my thinking with her submission click in place (now shattered by the inaccurate eavesdropping she was doing!) Thanks for always reading and reviewing!

Stuck. Stuck. Stuck.

There had never been a more accurate description of the situation that the three found themselves in as the week dragged on. Tension was high, Sam and Dean clueless as to why while Emily sulked around the house, not talking much, avoiding the boys as much as was possible in the cramped bunker. At first she used the book as her excuse, but it was becoming more and more clear as the days passed that Emily was angry. Dean had attempted to talk to her several more times, he wanted so badly to tell her how he was feeling, but Emily refused, making excuses every time he approached. It didn't help that Cas had dropped in too deliver nothing, just a quick "no sign of him yet, sit tight" before disappearing again. Sit tight. Emily felt like a caged animal again. Memories of her first months with the boys plagued her daily, the suffocating claustrophobia of being forced to remain with the men who wanted nothing to do with her was beginning to wear on her mental state.

Lisa and Ben.

If she hadn't been so mad at Sam too, she would've gone to him for answers on the mysterious duo. As it was, she was left to stew in her white hot anger, her jealousy. Another day and Emily found herself sitting in her room alone again, trying to take in the words on the page in front of her. They were even ruining her book! Frustrated, Emily tossed it aside and stood up, shaking out her long hair from the haphazard bun it was in, adjusted the pair of short little distressed daisy dukes she was wearing, and made sure her boobs were still safely encased in the tiny floral boho crop top she had picked for the day. The kind of outfit that normally drove Dean crazy, but today it wasn't for him.

She left her room and headed down the hall to the living room where she could hear the TV going. Both boys were parked in front of it and looked up when Emily entered, Dean's eyes darkening slightly as they raked over her body, which she very pointedly ignored. Emily stood square in front of the TV and crossed her arms over her chest, looking back and forth between the boys before speaking. "I want to go out."

Sam choked on the swig of water he'd just taken, coughing loudly several times before he was able to speak. "Are you crazy? You know the orders, you aren't going anywhere until Ezre-"

"Ezreil hasn't resurfaced, dummy," Emily cut in smoothly, adopting a look of pure boredom that so resembled that of a snotty teenager that Dean instantly felt his blood begin to boil. "He hasn't been seen or heard of since the incident. It's been a week, I'm losing my mind. I want an hour at a bar, by myself, away from you two."

Dean's face was getting red, and Sam's eyes were so narrow, they were almost gone. Both boys looked like she'd just suggested they have an orgy with Crowley. "Little girl," Dean was the one to speak this time, his voice as hard as his gaze, the words making her visibly tense. "Have you lost your goddamn mind? Did you come in here just to rile us up?"

"Last I checked, little boy," Emily sneered right back at him, her stance not changing an inch even as Dean's face grew even redder. "I am a grown adult, capable of making my own decisions, and regardless of being stuck here with you, I have no intention of giving up my life because you two neanderthals are scared of a little demon. I want to go out. To a bar. And neither of you are stopping me."

It was the breaking point, she didn't know who moved first but the second the boys were off the couch, Emily darted to the other side of the couch and out of their reach. She wasn't budging. "You've made it perfectly clear that none of us are here out of love," the word fell from her lips like poison. "I'm giving you a break from your obligation to me. Congratulations, you're free." She stepped back, watching the anger from the boys face turn into confusion.

"What are you talking about, Em?" Sam's brow cocked, his expression puzzled. Making her anger grow.

"You KNOW what I'm talking about!" She burst out, voice rising an octave as she shouted. "I HEARD you! All the bullshit can be dropped now, Sam! You made it perfectly clear that I'm the reason why your lives suck, why you can't leave, why you can't be with your precious LISA!"

It was the picture of a perfect storm, the woman throwing the tantrum, one boy confused, the other seeing red. At the sound of Lisa's name, both brothers stopped to look at one another, dawning on them at the same time what she was referring too. Sam laughed, the sound of it echoed through the room, throwing off the irate girl in front of them. "Jesus Christ, Emily, you heard us talking about that?"

It just made her angrier. How DARE he laugh at her! How dare he make a mockery of how she was feeling. "Stop!"

"No, YOU stop Emily!" Dean's harsh voice cut through the tension and he fixed her in his gaze once more. "You don't know what you're talking about and I don't even know exactly what you think you heard, but Lisa isn't a part of this equation and you're acting INSANE!"

Emily's answering laugh mimicked Sam's from moments before but hers was cold, sarcastic. "Of course she's part of the equation, Dean. She's your what? Wife? Girlfriend? Ben is your son? Slipped your mind when you started fucking me, right?" Dean flinched hard, but Emily barreled right on. "Just your forced distraction here, right? Until you go back to your real family."

She moved again, the keys to the Impala were on the table beside her and she snatched them up without a second's more hesitation. "I'm no one's distraction. I'm no one's second best. I'm out of here."

She moved to the door, but Sam got there first, one hand slamming it shut, the other grabbing her wrist hard enough that she gasped, anger forgotten for the moment. He forced the keys from her hand and threw them back to the table, before moving his grasp to her upper arms, forcing her to turn and face him. Behind him, Dean's face had changed. The anger was gone, and all there was left was sadness. Defeat. Emily's chest stung, but she refused to back down and met Sam's gaze with unflinching openness. "Let me go." Her voice was quiet, but full of such authority that Sam almost listened to her.

"No." He spat out, his grip tightening. She didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't wince. "How dare you. You don't know what the hell you're talking about." Sam moved again, his grip leaving her right arm, to pull her forward by her left. The resistance she gave him made him want to slap her, his hand twitched at his side as he faced Dean. "I'm going to take care of this. Objections?"

Dean was still staring at Emily, and she finally met his gaze, trying not to lose her nerve as they squared off. She'd never disrespected them this way before, and neither had she ever felt so disrespected either. He held her gaze for a second and then looked to Sam, shaking his head. "I need some time alone."

Her death sentence had been signed, as he turned and left the room, not even bothering to look behind him. Emily's eyes welled with tears. So that was it. She hadn't been wrong. She was nothing to him, and he was...he was everything to her. Every bit of hurt and anger spilled out of her then, as she wrenched her arm from Sam's bruising grasp and turned, letting her hand fly to his face. The slap landed with a deafening accuracy, and she didn't have time to process the moment of silence that fell between them before Emily found herself shoved so hard over the arm of the sofa that the wind was knocked out of her. She barely felt the first slap of Sam's hand rain down and she kicked out at him, happy when her foot met with solid bone and she heard him grunt. Digging her own grave, that was the phrase wasn't it?

He moved out of her target, and as she tried to straighten up, Sam's hand hit her back and forced her back down. She balled her hands into fists and stared straight ahead. He wasn't going to break her. No one was ever going to break her again. She heard the whoosh of leather as Sam's belt released from the loops of his pants, her shorts were so short he didn't bother to remove them as he began to lay into her, full force. The only sounds in the room was that of the belting, stripe after stripe landing against her tender flesh. She didn't move. Didn't make a sound. Her anger had built into a shield that encased her inside and pooled into a ball of anger so stunning that she didn't even feel what he was dishing out. She stared at her fists, her body flinching instinctively with each stroke, but still she remained silent. The lashes now overlapped each other, and, twenty, maybe thirty? strokes fell, and none brought so much as a whimper out of the girl. Sam paused, his own anger waning as he took in what was going on below him. Emily didn't move. Her ass and thighs were a mess of red splotches, angry lines beginning to form welts, and still she lay there, staring straight down at her fists. He tossed the belt over the back of the couch and pulled Emily up. She faced him with nothing. No expression in her eyes. It was scary. Dead.

"Emily," Sam felt the anger beginning to dissipate and a pool of guilt hit his stomach. He'd just dished out the harshest spanking he'd ever given her and she didn't make a peep. "Come here." His posture sagged and he lead her around to the couch to sit, noting that she still didn't flinch. Not even as sore as she had to be. "That wasn't fair. I'm sorry." Her eyes remained expressionless, empty, and his stomach clenched again. "Emily, come on," he prodded, forcing her to face him with a gentle hand on her chin. "You didn't hear the whole conversation Emily, you didn't hear Dean talk about how much you mean to him. And you don't know anything about Lisa or Ben."

For the next fifteen minutes, Sam told her the story. The whole story, how he'd been gone, how Dean had been desperate for a normal life until he'd made his return. How he'd been forced to wipe their memories. How hard it had been for him to move on, until...until her.

The whole time Emily remained stoic, not giving any indication that she was even taking in what he was saying. But the more he spoke, the more the words began to permeate. The fog of her shield began to fall. The mist around her cleared. "I didn't know," she mumbled, staring down at her hands. The fog had also taken away the haze of pain and she found herself squirming.

"No, you didn't. You should've talked to him. Instead you chose to sulk around here like a spoiled child. Dean doesn't deserve that, Emily. He would've told you if you'd asked him." Emily's face crumpled and the tears began to flow.

"Fuck, and now what? He's never going to speak to me again!" A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she shifted and felt the sting of her ass. Sam sighed and stood up, helping her too.

"Give him time. You spent all week sulking, now let him deal with this his own way." He shrugged, slinging an arm over her shoulder and pulling her in affectionately. "You'll probably need that to heal up, anyway," he patted her ass lightly, causing her to flinch. "How did you not move at all during that, anyway?"

"I don't know," Emily admitted quietly. "I was so angry, that I didn't feel anything. It was like there was this bubble around me, I knew you were spanking me but I didn't feel it. Not until after, at least."

Sam didn't let her see his troubled expression as she muttered, "hmmm," under his breath and excused himself to the library. Leaving Emily alone with her sore butt, and sorer pride.

"Hm, indeed."