Ellie POV

Present

"It's Cordy," I whisper, he looks at me strangely, "it's Cordy," I turn back to the accident, and begin running towards her cries. It feels like my mind has completely disconnected from the rest of my body; every step feels like a struggle. I'm moving in slow-motion, her screams of terror send my heart into my stomach, every second feels like an hour. I no longer care about Sam, Dean, any of them, all I care about is getting to my daughter.

"Cordy!" I yell, finally reaching the accident. "Cordy, it's Ellie, I'm here!" A police officer tries to keep me from the car, I push past him, but another man, a firefighter, stops me.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't allow you to go any closer," he tells me in a calm but stern tone.

"No! That's my- I'm her-" I desperately want to say it, but then see my parents; dad, bloody and groaning in the driver's seat, mom on a stretcher, barely moving. I can't see Cordy, but I can still hear her screams. "Please. That's my family."

"I understand that ma'am, however, we're about to pull the doors off so that we can get them out. Okay?" I nod, feeling the tears flow from my eyes. "The driver's side took the bulk of the impact. We've been trying to keep your," he looks at me questioningly, "father?" I nod in response. "Father, alert." I watch as they load mom into an ambulance, and make for the hospital. "Now, the little one—"

"Cordy"

"Cordy," he repeats, "she's wedged between the seats so we can't determine how badly she's been injured. She's alert and talking, which is a good sign, and from what we can figure, she's mostly scared right now, okay?"

"I need to see her, please," I beg him, "I just need her to know I'm here,"

"Again, ma'am, I can't allow that until we get them out. What's your name? I'll have one of my guys tell her that you're here, anything you want us to tell her or your parents?"

"Ellie. My- my name's Ellie. Are they going to be okay?"

"Right, uh, Ellie, it's hard to say right now. Until we get them out and to a hospital, and they can assess their injuries..."

"You don't know." I say, "I'm a nurse; you can be direct."

"We don't know." he agrees, "I've seen people walk away from worse, and I've seen people die from aftershock complications. We don't know how much internal damage has occurred. Like I said, your father's side took a majority of the impact, and your mother hit her head, we don't know if it was on the dash or another part of the vehicle, from what we can tell it doesn't seem as though she was wearing a seatbelt at the time of impact."

I do my best to digest everything he has to say; I know he is right. I think back to my clinical hours. Car accident injuries can range from a few scratches to death, sometimes in patients that seemed to be uninjured; that full extensive workups must be done before making any conclusions. I have to keep reminding myself of that. She's talking; she's alert, that's always a good sign. Cordy is no longer screaming; the silence brings my attention back to the car. A firefighter is next to her door, arm outstretched through the broken window, and looks to be calming her. I stand there, only a few yards away, feeling helpless.

"We're going to remove the driver's side doors so that we can get your father and Cordy out," he explains as a large piece of equipment is brought towards the car. "Your mother is already on her way to the hospital. The driver's side sustained the most damage, so we are preparing for your father's and sister's injuries to be worse than your mother's. We've got a chopper coming to lift them to the hospital; they'll be here in less than 10 minutes." He looks behind him as someone seemingly calls his name. "Now, when we remove the door it'll be loud, you'll probably hear a lot of screaming, but I promise you, your father and Cordy are not in any danger."

"Please, just save her," I hear Sam say, up until that moment I'm unaware that he has been behind me, listening as the paramedic explained everything.

"Sir, we're going to do everything we can to get them out of that car and to the hospital as soon as possible." He looks at Sam sympathetically. "I'm sorry, they need me,"

"Can you just tell Cordy 'one four three?' Tell her Ellie says 'one four three'." I sob, tears streaming down my face.

He nods his head and walks towards the accident, continuing to bark orders at the other emergency responders. Without warning, Sam's arms are around me, pulling me back against his chest as three firefighters move towards dad's car with a large piece of equipment. He is the only thing keeping me standing, his strength becoming my own. The comfort of being in his arms is short-lived as I see the sparks fly away from the car. The sound wasn't just loud; it was deafening. The high-pitched squeal of the equipment made my entire body shudder, and somehow over all that, I could manage to hear Cordy's sobs from inside the car.

"She's okay, Ella, remember what he said, she's just scared," Sam whispers in my ear.

"Cordy needs me, Sam. She needs me with her to protect her."

"You can't protect her from accidents like these, Ella." He turns me to face him. "She's strong, Ella, she'll be okay."

After an agonizing 3 minutes, the shrill screech of metal lets me know they are removing the car doors. Sam holds me tight against him, the ear-piercing noise causing me to involuntarily wrap my arms around him, burying my head into his chest. I hear the cutting of the metal before what can only be the door hitting the pavement. Guttural moaning fills the air, and I try to turn myself towards the accident, catching a brief glimpse of firefighters pulling dad out. Sam stops me before I can see anything else, I hear paramedics talking to dad, trying to keep him conscious.

The sound of a helicopter landing in a vacant lot nearby makes me turn as I see emergency field doctors run out, taking over for the paramedics as they turn their attention to Cordy. Sam lets out a heavy breath as a firefighter pulls Cordy out next, the same one who had been speaking with us earlier, cradling her small body against him. I try to move towards her, but a police officer stops me. A cry of frustration leaves me as I try to see what is happening. Another set of doctors appear, and he gently lays her down as they begin to examine her as well. One doctor steps away briefly talking to a paramedic, he turns in our direction, pointing us out to her, and she makes her way towards us.

"You're the family?" she asks, and I nod. "I'm Dr. Marks. I'm going to be one of the doctors taking care of your father and sister. We're going to take them to Buchanan Memorial," her voice is calm as she looks between us. "Your father will go into surgery immediately, and we will most likely be doing the same with your sister." I can hear shouting coming from the helicopter. "They're in good hands; we're going to take good care of them, Buchanan Memorial."

We both nod and watch as she runs back, and the helicopter takes off as soon as the doctor is seated. There is nothing I can do; every muscle in my body is paralyzed, watching as the helicopter disappears through the clouds. Sam's speaking to me, but I can't make sense of anything he's saying. He is pulling me away from the accident; he's always been quick to act.

"Ella, where'd you park?" he asks, snapping me out of my trance. "We need to go Ella. We need to be there."

"Joe's," I mumble.

We hastily make our way through the crowd of people, Sam's hand on the small of my back, gently guiding me as I struggle to move. I reach for my keys, fumbling with them until they fall to the ground.

"Ella, let me," Sam says, reaching for them. "I'll drive." I don't respond as we walk into Joe's parking lot. He keeps his arm around my waist, not knowing that he is the only thing keeping me upright. "Cordy's gonna be fine, Ella," he tries to assure me. I can see the trepidation in his face, though; he's not only trying to convince me but himself. "She's our daughter, and nothing is gonna happen to her."

I point my car out to Sam as we reach the parking lot, and he helps me in before making his way around to the driver's side. The second the door shuts, I'm shaking, sobbing uncontrollably, if I weren't already seated, my legs would've given out. The opening and closing of the door bring my attention to Sam and his own tears welling in his eyes. He leans over, bringing me as close to him as he can, wrapping me in his arms as I cry into his shoulder, his hand runs down my back doing all he can to soothe me. He pulls away from me as my sniffles subside, and takes my hand into his, giving it a firm squeeze.

As we pull away from Joe's, I notice all the damage on the road, broken glass, and car parts from both vehicles. The crowds have thinned out, on-lookers watching as police officers circle both cars. I can't peel my eyes away, hoping that somehow the accident isn't as bad as I think it is.

Neither of us speaks for the entire ride, the radio quietly playing in the background is the only sound in the car. I know if I open my mouth, I'll break down, and I'm trying to stay strong for Cordy. Every couple of minutes, I can feel Sam looking over, watching me intently.

Every maternal instinct I've pushed down over the last ten years comes to the surface with a vengeance. A voice in my head is shouting at me to tell her the truth, ignoring everything I had said to Sam barely an hour ago. Maybe she's not old enough, but I should have never agreed with my parents. As soon as they're all well again, we'll sit down and have the discussion that I should've had with them when I decided to keep her, that it didn't matter what the neighbors said. I should be the one raising my daughter, Sam's daughter.

I should have tried harder to contact Sam.

John visited us after I had Cordy and met his granddaughter. He was fascinated by her, immediately falling for her. I'd never seen him act so sweet, cooing over this little girl who was the spitting image of his younger son. Less than a month after I arrived at my cousins' home in South Dakota, I began receiving monthly letters from John. He kept in contact with me throughout my pregnancy, offering financial support, and continuing the narrative of Sam wanting nothing more to do with me.

But that was all a lie; he never told Sam anything. Everything he told me was a lie.

"Ella? We're here." Lost in thought, I don't hear him. "Ella?"

"I should've come down," I mumble, unable to look up at him, "I—"

"Ella," his hand reaches for mine, grabbing it firmly, "what are you talking about? "

"That night, when I heard your voice, I should've come down, but I was scared. Mom and dad fought about the baby as soon as they found out. There was so much screaming and crying. Dad gave me an ultimatum; have an abortion, or he was kicking me out. Mom-" I choke on my own words, I keep my eyes trained on my lap, my hands fidget as I think back to that night. "I'd never heard my parents fight as much as they did that weekend. Mom, she reached out to a cousin who would help with adoption arrangements and convinced my dad it was the best compromise. But I told them I wanted to keep the baby, that we both did, dad told me I was ruining my life. I had to sneak out of the house, Jana dropped me off at the motel, and then John-" Sam lets out a frustrated sigh as I shake my head. "I know, another lie."

"I- the whole reason I even came to your house that night was to," he pulls my hands apart, stopping me from picking further at my nails. "I was going to ask you to marry me. I bought a ring and everything."

"Really?" my eyes meet his for the first time since we left the accident.

"Your dad told me that you had already made an appointment at a clinic. I was heartbroken, Ella. In the morning, dad said…" he shakes his head, we already knew our parents lied, he clearly didn't want to get into it again. "He was manipulating me, trying to get me to stay, and I said some things that I really couldn't take back. Dad told me that if I left, that I couldn't come back." Sam takes a deep breath, "I didn't want to leave without you, but if I didn't leave, Dean would have found a way to get me to stay. If anyone besides you could've gotten me to do anything, it would be him." Sam looks at me with his large eyes, tears welling in them, "I'm sorry, I should've never believed any of them."

"I know," I whisper, "I am too."

"What do we do now?" He brings his hand up, cupping my face, "about everything?"

"I can't-I can't even think about that right now, Sam," I huff as I step out of the car. "The only thing that matters is Cordy. We can figure everything else out later." I try to keep the coldness out of my voice. I hope that Sam still knows me well enough to know that it's fear and not anger that has the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

We make our way in, stopping at the main desk to explain who we are, and we're directed to the third floor. I ask the nurses for any information they can give me about my family. All they will tell us is that all three are in surgery, and suggest we sit in the waiting area across the hall. Sam stays silent by my side, hand firmly wrapped around mine,

Before we have a chance to sit down, a doctor approaches, asking if we are related to Mrs. Jameson. Once I confirm that I am her daughter, he begins to explain the extent of her injuries. My vision blurs, and I can only make out two statements through the fog in my brain. 'We did everything we could. We couldn't revive her.' I can barely breathe as almost inhuman wails escape my lips. Sam's arms wrap around me as he moves us into a row of chairs, letting me sob into his chest. She's gone. And the last thing I did was pick a fight with her.

"She knows you love her," he speaks softly against me. I didn't even realize I had said it out loud. "She knows you didn't mean it."

Murmuring his condolences, the doctor leaves us sitting in the waiting area. Panic rises in me when I recognize the doctor walking towards us, after waiting for what seems like hours. There's another woman following close behind her. I pull from Sam's embrace, sitting on the edge of the seat, fearfully awaiting what she has to say.

"Ms. Jameson? Dr. Marks, we met briefly at the sight of the crash?" She smiles warmly as she moves to take a seat across from us. "This is Lacey Wall; she is one of the hospital's social workers. I've asked her to join us if you don't mind?"

The woman behind her had to be my age or slightly older, and she gave me a friendly smile. "Lacey, please. I'm so sorry about your mother," She reaches out her hand, and I shake it.

"Ellie. Thank you," I look back to Dr. Marks. "I'm sorry, but why does a social worker need to be here?"

"We'll get to it in a minute." She turns to Sam. "And you are?"

"Sam Winchester." He removes his hand from around me, extending it across the aisle to meet hers. "I'm- " A ringing phone interrupts him. "Excuse me," he says, offering an embarrassed smile. "Dean? Yeah. We're at the hospital." He walks away so that he is no longer interrupting us but is standing close enough so he can still listen in. Dr. Marks looks through her notes before speaking.

"Your father and sister are still in surgery. There was more internal bleeding then what we had anticipated with Cordelia, but we've gotten that under control." She gives me a reassuring smile. I know what kind of smile it is, it's one that means there's bad news coming. "Her left wrist and ankle were both nearly shattered, and we've got our Pediatric Orthopedic Surgeon working on her right now. I'll have her come and speak to you when she's available." Dr. Marks takes a deep breath, and I fear what she is going to say next. "As I said, she had more internal bleeding than we originally thought. We needed to give her a blood transfusion, it's very standard, but when we ran a cross-match, her type didn't match your mother or father."

I notice Sam standing up out of the corner of my eye. "Dean, I gotta go." He quickly ends the call. "There's a problem with her blood?"

"I wouldn't necessarily say a problem." She looks between us. "Ellie? Would you care to go somewhere more private?" I had a feeling exactly where this line of questioning was going, and I shook my head. "Cordelia has O negative blood, both your parents have A negative, so you can understand that we have some questions."

"Okay," I mutter, looking down at my hands.

"You know that it is extremely rare for a child to have a completely different blood type than their parents? Especially when both parents have the same type?" Lacey asks, and I nod, but Sam shakes his head. "It's less than seven percent. It's not impossible, but it is very unlikely."

I nod my head, "We were going to wait until she was older to tell her."

"Okay," Her eyebrows furrow, but her smile stays fixed as she jots something down in the notebook perched in her lap. "Do you know who her biological parents are?"

"W-what?"

"I have a lot of experience helping patients with issues of paternity. If Cordelia is adopted, we will need her biological parents' medical records. Was it a closed adoption?"

"Cordy wasn't adopted," I state firmly. That's not the question I was expecting. People believe what they want to believe. My own words echo in my head. This isn't Weldon; people don't know us here, why wouldn't they think that Cordy was adopted? It's a reasonable explanation.

"Okay." Lacey makes a note on the page in front of her. "I know this may be difficult to answer," she puts the pen in her lap, "but if Cordelia wasn't adopted, and she is not the biological child of your parents, then we need to know who her parents are."

"I-" Lacey looks at me with concern as I try to gather my thoughts. She probably thinks that I'm in shock over the "revelation" that Cordy can't be related to both mom and dad. I shake my head as I try to compose something that will make them understand.

"Denial won't help you or your sister, Ellie. All we want is what's best for Cordelia," Lacey breaks through my thoughts. "We're not here to judge your family, but someone is lying about your sister's parentage. You would've been old enough, do you remember anything? Anyone particularly close to your mother or father?"

"I don't-" I shake my head.

"This is not about demonizing your parents, Ellie, but whatever your family is hiding, is it more important than Cordelia?"

There it is—the secret. I look at Sam, who is gently squeezing my hand. For the second time today, I am going to claim Cordy as my own. Something no doctor outside of our family practitioner knew.

"She doesn't match my parents because..." I hesitate, "because she's my daughter." I sigh a breath of relief at being able to say it. Something I haven't been able to say in public since she was born, something I couldn't even say privately once she had started understanding adult conversations. "If you test her again, you'll see that she matches the maternal side."

"We'll do that," she smiles, if Lacey is surprised she's hiding it well, she picks up her pen to add more notes to her case record. "Her birth father, is he available?"

"Um-" My eyes shift back to Sam, who's watching me intently. "He's-"

"We would like to take a family history," Dr. Marks speaks up, bringing my attention to her. Her eyes dart between Sam and me. Does she know? "Cordelia needs an accurate and up-to-date medical history. We need to know if she is at risk for clots or seizures. Certain procedures could have terrible side effects if we don't know her full history."

"If there is an issue regarding her birth father," Lacey leans forward, concern etched on her face, "we can set you up with one of our genetic counselors, and they can help fill in any blanks."

"It's me," Sam's voice falters for a moment, and he clears his throat before stating firmly. "I'm her father."

"Okay," Dr. Marks motions for a nurse to join us. "Mr. Winchester? We'd like to ask you some questions regarding your medical history."

"Of course," he sends me a small smile, "I'll answer everything I can."

"Right this way, Mr. Winchester, I'm going to have a nurse draw blood to confirm paternity." She motions another nurse into the waiting area, "He'll also be the one to take your history. I'm going to check on Cordelia's progress. She should be out soon. I'll have the surgeon working on your father update you. "

"Thank you, Dr. Marks," I say softly, watching as Sam is led out of the room.

"If you need anything," Lacey holds a card in front of me, "please don't hesitate."

"We were just doing what we thought was best." I sniffle, taking the card from her hands. "It's not-"

"Ellie," Lacey reaches out and gently squeezes my shoulder. "You don't have to explain anything to me, to anyone, for that matter." She moves across the aisle, taking the vacant seat that Sam had occupied. "Cordelia is a lucky little girl, and whenever you feel it's the right time to tell her, I'd like to offer any assistance that I can."

Lacey stays with me for the better part of an hour, promising to keep me company until Sam returns. I ask her about changing Cordy's birth certificate, she explains the process, assuring me that it will be easy once I have a document from the hospital confirming it. She helps me keep my mind off of the accident, and asks questions about Cordy, remarking that she has a little boy around the same age.

Sam's towering figure fills the space around us; his presence gives me comfort as Lacey leaves us alone.

"I'm sorry you had to do that," Sam sits down next to me, his sleeve rolled up to reveal where the blood had been taken. "I'm sure that's not how you wanted to tell anyone."

"I didn't mean for you to get put on the spot like that. I never-" My breath catches in my throat, and I'm quickly losing the battle against my emotions.

"It's okay, Ella. I told you I want to be her father. I want to be a part of her life. We'll figure it all out, together."

I couldn't believe that less than a day ago, I was having a similar conversation with mom. We had all agreed that when Cordy was old enough, we would all sit down together and tell her, but it seemed that day was approaching faster than anticipated.

"Does this mean she's a Winchester now?" he asks, placing a small kiss on my cheek.

"I don't know." Tears flood my eyes.

"Ella." His hand cups my face gently, and I lean into his touch.

"I-I wish I never agreed to this arrangement, I just- I couldn't- after she was born-" Sam pulls me against him. "Cordy was mine, ours. She was the one piece of you I still had left."

"Ms. Jameson? Mr. Winchester?" An unfamiliar voice fills the air, and I wipe the tears away from my eyes, doing my best to pull myself back together. A woman in scrubs stands in front of us. "Dr. Olsen, I just finished working on Cordelia."

"How is she?" Sam asks urgently.

"She's going to be fine," she says, sitting down in front of us. A broad grin spreads over Sam's face, and I see the tears he's been holding back since the accident finally break through. "Cordelia's left ankle is severely damaged, and I had to insert some pins to set it. Her left wrist is broken as well; she'll be in casts for the next couple of months." My heart shatters at the thought of pins holding her body together. "She'll be in recovery for the next hour or so, and once we get her into a room, we'll have someone take you to see her. She's going to have to stay here for a few days, and then you'll be able to take her home."

"Thank you." I reach out for her hand, shaking it fervently. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I would do if-"

"You're quite welcome." She waves her hands as if she is telling me I didn't need to say anymore.

I wrap my arms around Sam, a mixture of laughter and sobs leave me as he places a kiss on my forehead.

"Your daughter is very lucky." Dr. Olsen excuses herself and leaves us to rejoice in the fact that Cordy will be well enough to go home in a matter of days.

"Sam?" Dean's deep voice breaks through the joyful cries leaving both Sam and me. 'Shit.' Sam mumbles under his breath as he pulls away from me. We break away from each other, turning around to see Dean only a few feet behind us. A shorter man in a trenchcoat is by Dean's side. Dean looks between us, his emerald eyes laced with confusion. "What is she talking about?"

"Cordelia," the smaller man states, his voice is gravelly, and something about him puts me on edge. "Eliza's daughter." How does he know my name? "Sam's daughter."

"Cordelia? Cordy? I thought…" Dean moves closer to us. "The night you left for Stanford..." He runs his fingers through the scruff forming on his face as he backs into a chair. "Shit, Sammy. Why didn't you tell me?"

Face scrunched in contemplation as he stares at us, the man in the trenchcoat responds before Sam has a chance. "Sam wasn't aware of her existence until recently."

"Fuck, Cas!" Dean's face hardens, and at the moment, he reminds me of John. "Did you know that Sam had a kid?"

"Yes."

"Son of a bitch." Dean scrubs a hand down his face, irritation evident in every muscle in his body. "We've known you for how long? Five years? You never thought to mention that Sammy had a kid?"

"I was told that it was imperative to keep it a secret." The man's tone is direct and matter-of-fact, almost robotic.

"How long?" Sam interjects. His face grows red, and his nostrils flare as he grips my hand tightly. Voice low and menacing, he snarls, "How long have you known and didn't say anything?"

"Since…" the man looks at me, "the beginning. We all knew."

"All?" Sam straightens to his full height, towering over the man. "Cas... who knew?"

"All of Heaven. Both Eliza and Cordelia were believed to be safer if you didn't know." Sam growls low in his chest and leans toward the man, dropping my hand and clenching his fists.

"Sammy-" Dean steps between them, placing a hand on Sam's chest.

"It's alright, Dean. Sam has every reason to be angry with me. I was just following orders. I have come to learn that is not always the right choice," the man offers in what seems to be an apology.

Sam inhales deeply and then huffs out a breath, and I can see some of the tension leave his body. He glares at the man a moment longer and then turns to Dean. "What are you doing here anyway, Dean?"

"You said you were in the hospital. I thought that Cas might be able to help." He waves a hand in front of us. "I never expected this."

"Yeah, well, I guess none of us did." Sam's voice sounds weary now. He turns away from the other men, giving me a soft smile and reaches for my hand once again. I continue to watch Dean for a moment.

"Damn, Cas. All these years, you've kept this secret from Sam. From me?" Dean looks more upset about not being trusted than angry about the lie. "You could have told me you know." He walks toward a chair and sits down

"Would you have been able to keep that knowledge from Sam?" The man, Cas, steps up beside Dean and squeezes his shoulder. "I am sorry, Dean," he whispers.

I can't believe what I'm seeing. The Dean I briefly knew all those years ago is nothing like the man who is sitting across from me now. He's more level-headed, more thoughtful with his words and actions. He's come a long way from the smug, flirtatious womanizer I remember. He and Cas seem to be sharing an almost intimate moment. I arch an eyebrow in surprise and give Sam a questioning look. He isn't paying attention to either one of them, still upset over what this Cas person had told him.

"A kid," Dean breaks the silence that has been filling the room. "I can't believe it, Sammy. You said-"

"We can get into all of that later." Sam gently squeezes my hand, "Cordy is the only thing that matters. Once she is outta here, we can all get to know her. Right, Ella?"

The thought of introducing Sam to Cordy had made my heart nearly beat out of my chest. Now he's suggesting I allow two more people into her life? I close my eyes and inhale deeply, trying to calm myself. Dean is still essentially a stranger to me; I'd only seen him a couple of times while Sam lived in Weldon. This other person, Cas, knows who I am, but I have no idea who he is, and that unnerves me. I open my eyes, feeling all three men staring at me, all waiting for me to say something, anything. Every breath becomes harder to take. I count to ten quietly, digging my fingers into Sam's hand as I try to calm myself. Sam moves swiftly out of his seat and immediately kneels in front of me. Dean is on his feet, closing the small space between us, and Sam motions for him to move back.

"Ella, look at me," he tilts his head so that he is in my line of sight. I mimic him as he straightens his body and keeps his voice calm and reassuring as I'm fighting with myself to keep the budding panic attack away. "You gotta breathe, Ella. In…out…" I follow his instructions. "Good."

"I don't know if I can do it, Sam," I muster. "Two days ago, I had everything figured out. I had put you out of my head a long time ago. I accepted that Cordy would probably never really know the truth about me, about you. I was getting ready to start my career, and then- you- you just happen to be at Joe's the one time I'm there in years. I just- it's-"

"Your paths were destined to cross again," Cas' bright blue eyes flit between us. "The case-"

"Cas." Dean stops him, "you're not helping." Cas eyes Dean for a moment and then nods.

I stare silently at the men in the room. My eyes repeatedly returning to Cas, who is he? I watch Dean from the corners of my eyes, and it seems almost as if he's trying to read my mind, trying to fill in the blanks of what happened all those years ago.

"Ms. Jameson?" An older man enters the waiting area and I stand to meet him. Sam also rises to help keep me steady on my feet. "I'm Dr. Barrett. I was working on your father." Fear wells inside me, not am, was, he was. "The impact damaged many of his internal organs, causing massive bleeding. We did everything that we could to stop it, but there was too much damage. I'm sorry, but your father died."

My legs give out from under me, and Sam catches me before I hit the ground. They're gone. I can't think, my vision blurs, and I can barely breathe as Sam guides us back into our seats. My lungs burn as the wails leave me. Sam holds me tight against his chest, gently stroking my hair until I'm no longer crying.

Once my sobs have ceased, I can hear the muffled voices of Dean and Cas, they've moved away, giving Sam and me some semblance of privacy. Sam squeezes my knee and offers a reassuring smile as he steps away to join their conversation.

"He can't, Dean, not here," Sam says sternly. "They just pulled her out of surgery. You don't think anyone would find it suspicious?"

"Sam, there's no reason that she should be walking around in a cast when we have a-" Dean looks over to me, "someone who can help. He can help. You know that."

"No," Sam shakes his head, "not here."

"Sam's right, Dean." Cas agrees. I watch all three of them, curious as to how exactly Cas can do anything to help. "Healing her here may alert…" Cas glances in my direction, "others to my presence. We need to wait until we can get her somewhere safe and warded."

"She's got Sam and me, what's safer than that?" A small chuckle leaves me. There's the cocky Dean I knew.

"Dean-"

"Cas, she's our blood." Dean's eyes narrow at Cas. "Get your feathery ass up there and start healing."

Sam turns away from me, muffling his speech as Dean begrudgingly agrees with whatever he said. I turn my attention away from them, unable to do anything else. I mindlessly pick away at my fingernails only half-listening to them as their discussion starts to turn into an argument between Sam and Dean. Crowley, Kevin, Tablets, Bunker, Trials. Each brother throws the words back at the other, all of them going over my head. All three men continue to argue in hushed tones, seemingly trying not to bring even more attention to themselves. They don't even notice when a nurse enters the area.

"Ms. Jameson?" I nod, standing up to meet him. "Cordelia's out of recovery, and we've moved her into a patient room. If you follow me, I'll take you to her." I nod, leaving Sam, Dean, and Cas without a word.

"You've got a tough little girl." He says, walking me through a bright hallway. "She may still be sleeping," he stops in front of a room, 3015. "When she wakes up, she may still be a little groggy from the anesthesia. We've got her on a mild pain medication for the time being; once she's awake, we can give her something stronger if needed. We're going to be monitoring her pain medication very carefully."

"Why?" I can't stop myself from asking, everything I've learned over the past three years has vanished from my memory. At this moment, the only thing I can think about is that I don't want her to be in any pain, period.

"We don't want to give her anything stronger than what she needs." I nod, you know this, Ellie. I'm about to walk into the room when he continues speaking. "We've also noted that there is a history of addiction on her father's side."

The statement catches me off guard. I remember Sam telling me how John was no stranger to drinking, and even at a younger age, Dean was consistently using alcohol to cope. But I never thought that Sam had that problem as well, then I remember what he told me earlier. 'I nearly drank myself to death; I was spiraling.'

I walk into the dimly lit room, listening to the steady rhythm of the heart monitor. My eyes land on Cordy, her tiny body in the center of the bed. I step closer to her, watching as her chest slowly moves up and down. I want to break down, but I refuse, I've done enough crying for today, and Cordy needs me to be strong for her.

"If you need anything, just use the call button," the nurse points to a red button near the bed. "Dr. Marks should be in to check in on her shortly."

"Thank you." I nearly whisper as I walk around the bed, taking a seat close to her. I set my hand on the bed, getting as close as I can to her uninjured side without touching her. I want to crawl into the bed and hold her, but I'm afraid to cause her any more pain. I want to comfort her the way I did when she was an infant, wrap her in my arms and hum The Prayer until she settled. Sam would often use the song to calm me after I had flashbacks of the attack.

I sit with Cordy, gingerly placing my hand over hers. The lyrics of the song leave my lips before I can stop them. How am I supposed to tell her the only parents she's ever known are gone? Everything she knows is about to change. A low whine comes from her lips, and I know she is slowly waking up. Her eyes flutter, adjusting to the dim room, for a moment, panic sets in, and I squeeze her hand, bringing her attention to me.

"Ellie?" she whispers, her eyes, Sam's eyes, focusing on me. I smile at her gently.

"Hey, kid." I stroke my thumb against the back of her hand. "You're gonna be okay."

"It h-hurts, Ellie," her voice is small and weak as she looks away, focusing on her leg. A cry leaves her lips, and I'm doing everything I can to hold myself together. "It hurts a lot."

"I know, Cordy, I know." I carefully move onto her bed, propping myself up on my side. She tries to move against me, but the cast on her leg restricts her movement. I run my hand through her hair, comforting her as best as I can. She positions her head against my chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I want mom and dad," she weeps, and I have to choke back my tears. My heart breaks when she asks for them. She doesn't want me, she wants the two people she's only ever known as her parents. The first time she uttered "mama" while looking at me was the last time I was able to be her mom at home. Mom and dad didn't want to risk it; people were already suspicious; we moved her out of my room and into her own that afternoon. "Where are they, Ellie?" she cries, tucking her head under my chin. I take a deep breath, keeping myself as calm as I can. "I want them, Ellie."

"Shh. I know, kid. Mom and dad..." She pulls away from me, eyes bloodshot, tears still streaming from them. "Mom and dad, they- they got hurt really bad in the accident. The doctors did everything they could to help them."

"Are they gonna be okay?"

"No, kid. Mom and dad- they're…" Be direct, Ellie. "they d-died."

"I-It's my fault, I wanted to go to the park," she says between sobs. "Please don't be mad at me."

"Hey, no. Cordy, look at me." I grab her face tilting it toward my own. "This was not your fault. Sometimes things happen that we can't control, that's why they call them 'accidents.' Don't you dare think that this is your fault in any way, you understand me?"

"I-" she whispers, "You're not leaving me, are you, Ellie?"

"Not in a million years, kid, it's just you and me now."