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Sam's POV

My eyes opened lazily, taking in the sight of my brother, stretched out like a cat on the dingy couch in the corner of the motel. A gray, low light filtered through the window behind him and a rumble of thunder crashed in the distance. The pitter-patter of steady rain tapped the windows in a chaotic cadence.

Dean looked much younger when he slept. The tension that he so typically carried in his muscles when he was awake, wasn't there anymore. His freckles seemed so much more noticeable. The crinkles next to his eyes were smoothed out. A smile involuntarily grew along my face, happy to see Dean at peace, even if it was only because he was unconscious. His arm was flung haphazardly above his head and I knew he'd be complaining about an achy shoulder when he woke. One foot dangled off the edge of the couch. A momentary wave of guilt flooded through me. I had offered to take the couch. But, Dean had looked at the couch and then back at me, eyes trailing quickly from my feet to the top of my head, before looking back at the couch and shaking his head.

"You'll never fit," he'd said.

He wasn't wrong.

I would have even offered to share the bed with him, but it was only a twin mattress and my feet hung off the edge, too.

I reached out for my phone that had been charging on the nightstand to check for any emails or texts. There was a message from Jody, but she was just checking in on us. Nothing life threatening. No emergencies.

Suddenly, I remembered the reason Dean and I were in this hotel. I turned over and realized Maggie was still soundly asleep in her bed. Glancing back at my phone, I calculated that she'd been asleep for nearly 19 hours. While she certainly had been through it in the last few days, other than her healing shoulder and a few nasty bruises, Maggie was doing ok. Nineteen hours was a long time to sleep. Recalling the discussion Dean and I had the night before, I was on my feet and standing at the end of her bed where one of her feet stuck out from the covers. I began to tap on her ankle.

"Maggie? Hey, Maggie?" My voice was low, but urgent. When she didn't respond, I grabbed her ankle and tried to shake her leg even more.

"Maggie? Maggie, you need to wake up."

Dean must've been pulled awake by the urgency of my voice because he was suddenly by her bedside, hair spiked up in every direction.

"What time is it?" He asked me, trying to catch up to what was happening.

"9:30. She's been asleep since we got back here at 3 yesterday. That's 19 hours Dean."

After hearing this, Dean leapt to action, joining me in trying to get Maggie to wake up. He had both hands on her face, gently slapping her face. I moved to Maggie's side, too, deciding to rub my knuckle into her sternum.

"C'mon, C'mon!" Dean muttered to himself.

"Maggie, we need you to wake up!" I was practically shouting at her.

Dean picked up her hand and began pressing on her nail bed. Still no response.

I removed my knuckles from her sternum and placed my fingers to her pulse point. She was definitely still alive, but her heart rate seemed slow. I leaned my ear close to her mouth and felt a warm breath on me.

"What the hell is wrong with her?" Dean asked.

"I…I-I don't know!" I was just about as lost as Dean was.

"Do we take her back to the hospital?" Dean asked.

"That could be too dangerous. What if whoever is targeting her finds her there?"

Dean pulled away from Maggie, running a hand over his face and pacing momentarily, the familiar tension and creases falling into place.

"I'm gonna call Cas."

"Yeah, that's a good idea." I agreed. I took a few steadying breaths myself before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, Cas. If you're not too busy right now, we could really use a hand. And if you are too busy, well-"

When I heard the tell-tale flutter of wings, I turned around to find the trench-coated angel standing right next to Dean.

"Dean." Cas's low, gravelly tone answered his prayer.

Dean began moving, rounding the far side of the bed. I maneuvered myself to stand at the end of Maggie's bed.

"Thanks for coming, Cas." Dean said.

"What's going on?" Cas asked, concern lacing every word. He stared at Dean, intensely, uncomfortably, some might even say awkwardly.

"We've been working a case revolving around this girl, here," Dean gestured to Maggie.

"She's been sleeping for 19 hours. Now she's unresponsive for some reason. We think someone's targeting her." Dean continued explaining.

Cas's focus shifted from Dean to Maggie's prone form on the bed.

He placed his fingers to her forehead, closing his eyes momentarily. He pulled away.

His brow was furrowed, shaking his head ever so slightly.

"This doesn't make any sense." Cas started.

"What doesn't make any sense?" Dean practically shouted at him.

Cas glared at him hard, clearly unenthused at his tone.

"This girl, Maggie, she hasn't been sick before today?"

"Other than her shoulder, she's gotten a clean bill of health. Why, what did you find?" I asked, adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

"She has cancer spread all throughout her body. There's so much of it. I took out what I could, but if I take out all of it right now, it could hurt me."

Dean cut in, "Wait, it could lower your mojo that much to heal her completely?"

Cas sighed, "Yes. My 'mojo' as you like to call it, would take a great deal of time to regenerate after fully healing her. You said someone was targeting her?"

"Yeah," I responded. "We think someone made a deal to use a crossroads demon to hurt Maggie and her family."

"That would explain how a perfectly healthy young woman almost died from stage 4 cancer in less than a day." Cas muttered to himself.

"Until we know for sure what we're dealing with, it's probably a good thing that you didn't completely drain your reserves." Dean commented.

"Will she wake soon, you think, Cas?" I asked, still uneasy that Maggie hadn't woken.

"I'd give her a couple more hours. Her body has to catch up. She won't need that shoulder sling anymore. But she's still sick." Cas explained.

I let out a sigh and ran my fingers through my hair, frustration and tension still coursing through my body.

"So, what now?" I asked, hands falling to rest on my hips.

"Now?" Dean said, "We wait."

And wait we did. Dean and Cas settled on the couch and Dean had pulled over the tv so that he could introduce Cas to some classic tv shows. The tv only got a couple of stations, so they had to settle for Jeopardy reruns. I sat against the headboard of my bed with my laptop, going through Maggie's social media posts. Maggie didn't have a very large social media presence. Most of her posts came from when she was in high school. There were blurry selfies of her and presumably her friends and her brother. There were some nice family photos taken in the fall along with some individual senior portraits. There were a couple of photos from her prom with a guy named Randy, who would've been her boyfriend at the time.

I searched all of her friends' social media pages as well. When looking for information on social media, I have learned to not just look at what people post and share, but to look at the groups they like and follow. Often, these groups are private, but, creating a fake account was easy enough and lying to answer the required questions to join in on those private groups could prove useful. I don't particularly like having to lie, but, if it saves someone's life, it's worth it.

Most of Maggie's friends followed celebrity accounts, some were part of fandom pages for tv shows and books, others followed store or merchandise accounts. All in all, nothing out of the ordinary or suspicious.

When I started looking through Randy's account, I saw much of the same. He was interested in superhero and spy movies. Nothing of his personal posts or pictures was in any way suspicious. In fact, he had not posted anything in about 6 or 7 months. However, when searching through his likes and follows, I did notice that he started following some paranormal hunting and demon slayer tv show accounts and fandom pages. He even liked and followed the "Ghostfacers" page and blog. I rolled my eyes.

I already had a fake account following the "Ghostfacers" page and when I searched Randy's name in the group, I saw that several months ago, he posted a question regarding family curses. Another group member directed him to a blog.

I hadn't started reading through the blog when Maggie started to stir. She shifted in her bed and woke slowly. Dean had shut off the tv and I closed my laptop, knowing she might be disoriented or confused. The research would have to wait a little longer. Maggie might be able to point us in the right direction a little quicker than my research skills could.