Dean was suddenly acutely aware of how his actions had affected Olivia, even if no one but her remembered it. And it was very clear that the hurt she'd been dealing with for years was deeply rooted. She had been held captive by their father, abandoned by both brothers on multiple occasions, put in the middle of their fights, left behind to pick up their pieces, and forgotten. Even when she had been smiling during their shopping trip, she must have been torn to pieces inside.

We're Winchesters - we're meant to be miserable, Dean thought ruefully, scraping the last bit of apple from his plate. But her hurt must be at least similar to what he had put Sam through. The difference was that both of the brothers remembered it, and yet… it kept happening.

Sam, on the other hand, felt incredibly guilty for everything he had ever put Dean through, and then some. Every time he had wanted to stop hunting, innocent people got hurt, not to mention his brother - and apparently his sister as well. He felt guilty about Olivia, in a way, even if his memories weren't the same as hers. In her memories, which he could tell from her tears were extremely vivid to her, she had continually tried to link him to both humanity and to his brother. He found himself wishing he remembered her, but was also relieved he couldn't because… well, he had enough guilt to deal with already.

Embarrassed, Olivia cleared the plates and hid in the kitchen with the flimsy and fake-cheery excuse of "I'll do the dishes since you boys will probably break everything!", leaving the brothers alone once again with their new thoughts. Dean grabbed his book again but stopped when Sam cleared his throat.

"Look, Dean… I'm sorry. I just… I keep giving up hope every time it seems like we lose. And we seem to lose so often. When you went to Purgatory…" Sam inhaled slowly, trying not to cough. "I didn't know what to do. I kind of stopped doing anything meaningful. I was on autopilot. Amelia brought me back, helped me recover. I mean… I lost you, man."

"I know, Sam," Dean replied, keeping a finger in his book as he closed it and stared into his brother's eyes. "I was angry, but… I understand. You've always wanted a normal life. And maybe I want it too sometimes. I was angry that you didn't try to look for me, but… I was also angry that you had that normal life, somehow. You went a year without having to deal with monsters and angels and Hell and… you almost had it, Sammy. I guess, I was also angry that I took it away from you by coming back."

The two men nodded at each other. They weren't huge on emotions at the best of times, and after having the Little Sister Bomb dropped on them all of a sudden, they were very drained. But they both felt both a little lighter and heavier at the same time. Sam's guilt hadn't fully eased, but he understood his brother a bit more. And Dean felt a little rejuvenated at Sam's apology while still worrying about his brother's well-being.

Soon the cluttering in the kitchen stopped, and Olivia reemerged with her vibrant smile back on her face as she took her place beside Sam in her little nest of books and translations. Sam and Dean looked at each other hesitantly before Sam asked, "Hey, Olivia?"

"Hmm?" she said, not looking up from one of the Hebrew books to her left.

"How did you find us?" he asked.

"Which time? You keep disappearing on me, and it's Hell and a half trying to find you two dorks," she replied, still not looking up and using her fingers to zoom in on the image on her screen.

"When the Horsemen let you go," Dean finished, "When you came back from Hell."

"I didn't. Lisa found me," Olivia said, still concentrating on the screen with her fake smile plastered on, then scribbled something in the margin of the book. Dean winced slightly, and she continued, "She saw on the news that a woman - me - had been found on the side of the road, covered in blood and dirt as if she'd dug her way out of being buried alive, and she recognized me. I mean, I had just climbed out of the grave someone put me in, so I give her props for being able to realize it was me. Lisa drove a state away to go claim me and bring me home as a surprise for you, Dean."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "And how did that go?"

Olivia giggled and replied, "Deanie nearly peed his pants when he saw I was back. And I got hugged a lot. And then he stopped and made Castiel heal me and then hugged me some more." Sam couldn't help laughing at that, and even Dean managed to chuckle a bit. The tension was still there, but it was not nearly as bad. There was a lot of hurt, a lot of questions, and not enough answers for Dean's liking.

He cleared his throat and announced, "Tomorrow we're going to try to figure out why we can't remember you." A brief crestfallen look came across Olivia's face but she nodded and continued her work. Sam looked questioningly over at Dean, but Dean shook his head, trying to tell him they'd talk about it later. The rest of the evening was full mainly of the sounds of pages turning, keyboard clicking, and the occasional coughing spasm from Sam. The third fit he had prompted Olivia to get up from the table and return a few minutes later with "holy chamomile tea," which both brothers correctly interpreted as tea boiled in holy water.

A little notification beeped on a watch Olivia wore, and she checked it with a concerned look. Whispering furiously to herself, she nearly dove headfirst into her laptop bag in search of something. Both brothers were intrigued, but they tried to hide it behind their respective notes and papers. When they saw her draw out a bag that held a series of vials and needles, however, they became alarmed.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sam asked, not liking the look of the needle she was brandishing.

"Diabetes," she replied noncommittally, completely unbothered by the needle she was sticking into her hip. "Type 2. Developed when I was three. Dean nearly had a heart attack when he found me unconscious on the floor. But he perked up a lot when the doctor called him a hero for calling the ambulance and saving my life."

The men could do nothing other than blink as Olivia sighed and closed up her laptop, muttering bitterly, "I'm going to bed. My alert didn't go off or I didn't hear it, so my sugars were higher than normal. Which means I'm going to be pretty sick in a few minutes as the insulin starts to kick in. Fun times."

Sam couldn't help but smile at the biting sarcasm in her voice, but the smile quickly fled when she stood and leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of his head. Tiredly, she circled the table to do the same to Dean, whose head popped up in surprise as he hadn't seen her give Sam his kiss. With a bleary wave, she called back, "Night, guys. Don't stay up too late, we have mysteries to solve tomorrow," and disappeared down the hall.

"Will do, Velma," Dean called back, "Don't forget the Scooby snacks."

"Har-de-har," her fake laugh echoed back toward them, and Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment. Sam broke the silence with a cough before he spoke properly.

"So what do you think this is all about?" he asked, and Dean idly rubbed the spot on his head that she had kissed. It felt warm, not for any monstrous reason, but… like it had felt to get a hug from his mother.

"I think," he answered carefully, "that we may, somehow, have a little sister. And we're going to find out how, and where she's been."

"You really think that she's our sister and that she's been - what - hiding all this time?" Sam asked incredulously.

"It's us, man. Anything is possible," Dean replied, rubbing his eyes and closing his book. He shot Sam an earnest look and said, "Besides… I kind of don't want to be wrong this time."

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again in a moment of thought before whispering, "I kind of agree. It's… not been so bad." Dean nodded and stood to go to bed himself. Sam followed shortly after finishing the last few sips of his tea and marking his place in his book.