May 6th-9th, 2006

By the time Dean and Sam finally got checked in and made it to their own room, it was late. Dean's muscles ached after the long drive, and his head wasn't faring much better after the events of the evening, but those seemed like relatively small issues compared to what they were facing.

He threw his duffel unceremoniously onto the bed with a heavy thud before the door was even shut, while Sam, hot on his heels, dropped into one of the chairs placed with the table crowded into their room. The dingy motel room, similar to Lorelai's with its faded wallpaper and musty smell, felt almost claustrophobic. Dean could sense the tension between them rising once more and he did his best to push it down. He doubted, however, that it would do much good. It was one thing to backburner it in front of Lorelai, but he could almosthearSam's thoughts, and knew he only had a tenuous grasp on his own questions and frustrations.

"We should get some shut eye," he announced without looking up, already digging through his bag for a change of clothes. "Hit the library first thing in the morning."

Sam was quiet for half a beat too long, letting Dean imagine the skeptical look his little brother was probably leveling in his direction, but he kept his attention focused on what he was doing. Maybe he'd get lucky, and Sam would be too tired for his normal brand of nagging.

"Yeah," Sam finally agreed, his voice carefully neutral. "We should probably double check some of Lorelai's work too. I know she said she started eliminating some of the possible gravesites… but…"

"But she ain't exactly reliable at the moment," Dean finished for him, and from the corner of his eye he saw Sam nodding, even though he looked uncomfortable. Dean didn't blame him, it felt crappy second guessing her, but it was necessary. "Who knows what crazy crap she's seeing. And if this thing can mess with its victims' heads, I'm sure it's using that to its advantage… protecting itself."

Sam leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.

"That's what I'm thinking too. Maybe we should split up – you can drop me at the library and then double back to the places Lorelai checked out."

"Yeah, alright," Dean agreed, pulling out a fresh t-shirt and tossing it onto the bed.

His words hung in the air between them for a moment, an uncomfortable silence passing between them. Dean could feel the weight of Sam's gaze, knew his brother was working up to something, but he continued to busy himself with unpacking, hoping against hope that Sam would let it go. At least for tonight. For tonight he just wanted a hot shower, and a few hours' sleep where he could turn his brain off.

"What do we do with Lorelai?" Sam started, his tone wary. "She –"

"We leave her ass here," Dean cut him off firmly, hoping to nip the conversation in the bud. Sam opened his mouth, likely to argue, and Dean finally stopped what he'd been doing to offer his full attention. "I'm serious, Sam. I don't give a shit what she says, I'm not lettin' her get herself killed because she's too stubborn to take a breather."

For a minute Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but eventually he sighed, seeming to think better of it, and nodded his head.

"Alright, yeah, I hear you. But Dean, you know she's not gonna sit it out willingly.Iknow that, and I haven't seen her in seven years."

There was a flash of annoyance at the reminder of the elephant in the room, that Sam had known the big secret, the one that had turned Dean's world on its head, and had kept it from him and their dad, same as Lorelai. But Dean pushed that frustration aside and ran a hand down his face, knowing full well Sam was right. Lorelai Baudelaire was nothing if not stubborn, and that was under the best of circumstances.

"Let's get at it early. You see what you can check out to bring back with you, I'll doublecheck the gravesites, and then we can come back here and research."

He turned back to his bag, gathering the last of his things, hoping that would be the end of it. But of course, with Sam, it never was.

"Dean," Sam said, his voice soft but insistent. "Are we gonna talk about what just happened?"

Dean let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he turned to face his brother. He'd known this was coming, had been dreading it since the moment they'd walked into Lorelai's motel room. But that didn't make him any more prepared for the conversation.

"What's there to talk about?" Dean deflected, grabbing his toiletry bag up with the clothes and heading towards the bathroom. "We've got a case to solve, bones to burn, and a girl to save. That's all that matters right now."

Sam's chair creaked as he leaned back, fixing Dean with a look that said he wasn't buying it. "Come on, man. You can't just pretend like nothing happened back there. You and Lorelai..."

Dean paused in the bathroom doorway, his back to Sam. He could feel the tension building in his shoulders, knew his brother could probably see it too. "Me and Lorelai what, Sam?"

"You were together," Sam said softly, his voice a mix of curiosity and concern. "Really together. Not just for'a coupla weeks.'Not just some fling or a one-night stand. Why didn't you ever tell me about her?"

Dean turned, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest. He wanted to deny it, to brush it off as nothing serious, but he knew Sam wouldn't buy it. Not after what he'd just witnessed.

"Yeah, all right, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said… maybe a lot more," he amended at the look Sam gave him before rolling his eyes. "It wasn't… look, I don't know, man. It just happened. I met her while I was working a job, and we hit it off… it turned out she was working the same thing. Things… progressed from there."

Sam nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "She got under your skin, huh?"

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes. "It wasn't like that."

Even though it definitely was like that. Dean still remembered those early days clearly, the ones even before either of them realized either of them had any ties to the supernatural. He remembered trying to tell himself to keep his distance, even choked down what had probably been the worst pancakes he'd ever eaten just to spend a few more minutes with her. He remembered the way she'd smiled at him over dinner on that first date, and curled into him while they laid out on the hood of the Impala after. He remembered sitting there in that cabin before he'd left, her telling him she wasn't his type and him trying to convince her they were worth taking a shot on. He'd been a goner from the start.

"No?" Sam challenged, his eyebrows raised. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks a lot like that. The way you two were looking at each other... Dean, I've never seen you like that with anyone before."

Dean felt his jaw clench, a familiar mix of frustration and vulnerability swirling in his chest. He hated feeling exposed like this, hated that Sam could read him so easily. But more than that, he hated that his brother was right.

"Look," Dean said, his voice gruff. "Whatever Lorelai and I had, it's over now. Ancient history. We've got more important things to focus on."

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You sure about that? Because it sure as hell didn't look like ancient history to me. Dean, you dropped everything to come help her. You've been on edge since we got that call from Katie. That doesn't exactly scream'over it'to me."

Dean ran a hand down his face again, feeling the stubble scratching against his palm. He was too tired for this, too raw.

"What do you want me to say, Sam? That I cared about her? Fine, I cared about her. But it doesn't matter now. We've both moved on."

He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or Sam of that, but either way he clung to the statement. Sam was quiet for a moment, studying Dean with an intensity that made him want to squirm. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle.

"You loved her, didn't you?"

The question hit Dean like a sucker punch to the gut. He opened his mouth to deny it, to brush it off with some sarcastic quip, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he found himself staring at Sam, his heart pounding in his chest. He and Lorelai had never said those words to each other, but that didn't seem to really matter.

Sam's eyes, of course, widened slightly, realization dawning on his face. "Holy shit," he breathed. "You still love her."

"Drop it, Sam," Dean groused, turning away. The look of sympathy on Sam's face was too much. It was bad enough to even push away the desire Dean had to have a go at Sam for the whole knowing-about-magic thing. "I'm gettin' a shower."

Dean slammed the bathroom door behind him with more force than necessary, the sound echoing in the small motel room. He leaned against the sink, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the porcelain edge. The conversation had only rattled him further, leaving him feeling exposed in a way he wasn't comfortable with. What did Sam know anyway?

"Get it together, Winchester," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

He turned on the shower, cranking the hot water as high as it would go. As steam began to fill the small bathroom, Dean stripped off his clothes, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor. He stepped under the scalding spray, letting the water pound against his skin, hoping it might wash away some of the tension that had settled into his muscles.

And as he went through the motions of washing up, Dean tried to clear his mind with little success. The events of the day continued to bounce around, reverberating in his head as if it were an echo chamber.

Lorelai, with barely detectable but unmistakable fear in her eyes when she'd pulled back her sleeve and shown him the marks on her arm. The way she'd tried to downplay how serious the situation was. Her stubborn insistence that she had it under control, that she didn't need their help. It was so goddamn typical he could have screamed.

Something twisted unpleasantly in his chest as he remembered that same fear in her eyes when she'd opened the door and seen him on the other side – mingled and masked with rage and another emotion he was too scared to name, but there nonetheless.

Eight fucking months.

He'd told himself he was over her, that whatever possibility had existed between them was something that he'd put his past and that he'd made his peace with it. Another casualty of the life he led. Another mistake, like Cassie.

But standing at her door, and then in that motel room, feeling that all too familiar pull towards her, Dean knew he'd been kidding himself.

Eight fucking months and seeing her again had hit him like a freight train.

He still cared about her. Still lo-

No, he couldn't go there. Sam could go to hell, putting those kind of thoughts in his head.

And then there was his little brother himself.

The revelation that Sam had his own history with the woman that had been haunting the recesses of Dean's mind was something Dean was still having trouble wrapping his arms around.

The existence of magic – real magic, not the cursed, demon-given power he'd grown up knowing about – had been a complete mindfuck. And for the last six months, Dean had been grappling with that on his own, more worried about taking care of Sam than working through his own crap, not wanting to dump anything extra on his brother. And Sam had known about witches and wizards the whole damn time anyway.

It was taking everything in him not to fly off the handle. Logically, some part of Dean's brain knew he was overreacting to some degree – that it was fair to be upset, but that even given the limited information he did have it wasn't hard to follow why Sam may not have mentioned anything – but it still felt like a betrayal of the highest kind.

"Dammit," he growled, slamming his palm against the tiled wall, trying once more to force his mind onto other matters.

He stayed under the shower until the water ran cold and when he finally stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist, he felt marginally more human. Even if the knot in his stomach remained.

Dean eventually emerged from the bathroom to find Sam already in bed, his back to the room. Whether his brother was actually asleep or just pretending, Dean couldn't tell. Either way, he was grateful for the reprieve from the conversation.

Despite his exhaustion, sleep was elusive that night. Dean found himself tossing and turning, his mind continuing to replay moments from earlier in the evening. The way Lorelai's eyes had lit up when she recognized Sam. The tension in her shoulders when she'd looked at Dean. The warmth of her leg when he'd bumped against her with the reassurance that he still had her back. The vulnerability in her expression as she'd reluctantly accepted their help.

Just as he'd start to drift off, he'd jerk awake, his heart pounding. It was nearing 2am when a sound from the next room made him bolt upright.

A scream, muffled but unmistakable, pierced the night. Dean's hand was wrapped around the knife under his pillow in an instant, his legs already swinging off the side of the bed before his brain caught up with him.

It was Lorelai, and it was likely just a nightmare, or one of the other horrors she was fighting off thanks to the curse. He froze, listening intently, and sure enough he heard movement after a moment – the sound of footsteps, then water running. She wasn't in any danger – not any immediate danger, anyway. Still, the sound of her pain, her fear, had made every protective instinct in Dean's body flare to life.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, to loosen his grip on the knife and settle back down. Going to her wouldn't help. She needed whatever rest she could get, and he… he couldn't trust himself to keep his distance if he saw her like that. And hell, for all he knew his presence would only set her more on edge. He couldn't blame her if it did.

So Dean stayed where he was, listening helplessly as the cycle repeated itself – quiet, then screams, and then Lorelai's cries eventually subsiding into whimpers, then silence again. He laid there, feeling utterly helpless, sleep continuing to elude him.

By the time dawn began to creep through the shabby motel curtains, Dean felt like he'd been hit by a truck. But there was work to be done, and he'd be damned if he was going to let a little sleep deprivation slow him down. Not when Lorelai's life was on the line.

Dean rubbed at his eyes, the gritty feeling a stark reminder of his sleepless night. The motel room was bathed in the pale light of early morning, casting long shadows across the faded carpet. He glanced at Sam's sleeping form, debating whether to wake him or let him catch a few more minutes of rest. It was finally with a resigned sigh that Dean pushed himself off the bed, his joints protesting the movement.

"Rise and shine, Sammy," he called, his voice gravelly from disuse. Sam stirred, blinking blearily at Dean.

"What time is it?"

"Early," Dean replied, already moving towards his duffel bag. "We've got work to do."

As Sam sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair, Dean could feel his brother's eyes on him. He pointedly ignored the scrutiny, focusing instead on gathering clean clothes.

"Dean," Sam started, his tone cautious. "About last night-"

"Not now, Sam," Dean cut him off, his jaw clenching. "We've got shit to do."

Sam let out a frustrated huff but didn't push further and instead ducked into the bathroom. Dean counted that as a small victory once he heard the water turn on.

A few minutes later they were both dressed, even if they were a little bleary eyed, and Sam was packing up his laptop.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral. Dean grabbed the car keys, twirling them around his finger.

"Drop you at the library, then I'll double-check those gravesites Lorelai ruled out. Come back here, hopefully before she realizes we're gone, and figure out our next steps, do some research."

Sam nodded, shouldering his bag. The tension between them was still palpable as they made their way to the Impala, and Dean knew his brother was itching to talk about everything that had happened, but he wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he'd ever be ready.

Mercifully, the drive to the library was short, filled only with the low rumble of the Impala's engine. As Sam climbed out, Dean called after him, "Hey, don't forget – grab anything you can use to research back at the motel. We need to keep an eye on Lor- on the situation."

If Sam noticed Dean's slip, he didn't comment on it. With a nod, he turned towards the building, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts.

The gravesites were spread across town, each more overgrown and neglected than the last. As Dean trudged through knee-high grass and ducked under low-hanging branches, he ruminated that at least the work was methodical, almost meditative. It was easier to focus on the task at hand than to let his mind wander to more complicated matters.

Of course, he found nothing to contradict Lorelai's initial assessments, and by the time he pulled back up to the library to get Sam, he was feeling a mix of frustration and grudging admiration. Even under the influence of the curse, Lorelai's work had been impeccable.

Sam climbed into the car, his arms laden with books and photocopies. "Find anything?" he asked, settling into his seat. Dean shook his head.

"Nah, her work checks out. You?"

Sam nodded, shifting the stack of books and papers in his arms.

"Yeah, I think I found some promising leads. There's a few old records that might point us in the right direction to find the girl's remains."

Dean grunted in acknowledgment, pulling out of the library parking lot. The familiar rumble of the engine as they merged onto the main road was a comfort, and for a moment, the only sound was the classic rock playing softly from the speakers.

"We should grab some breakfast," Dean said as they passed a sign advertising a diner 1.2 miles away, breaking the silence. "Can't research on an empty stomach."

Sam nodded in agreement, and Dean followed the signs, his stomach growling as he realized how hungry he was. The neon "Open" sign flickered in the early morning light as they pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later.

Inside, the diner was nearly empty, save for a couple of truckers nursing coffees at the counter. The smell of bacon and maple syrup permeated the air, and his stomach's growling intensified in response. They approached the counter, where a middle-aged waitress with a kind smile greeted them.

"What can I get for you boys?" she asked, pen poised over her notepad.

"I'll have the breakfast special," Sam said. "Eggs over easy, wheat toast."

"Uh I'll take the special too, but I'll take the eggs scrambled and hash browns. Plus an order of chocolate chip pancakes, extra bacon, and the largest coffee you've got."

He added it without thinking, and Sam's eyebrows shot up. Dean pointedly ignored him while the waitress jotted down their order and bustled off to the kitchen. And as they waited, Sam leaned against the counter, that look on his face again.

"So," he started, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Chocolate chip pancakes, huh?"

Dean shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "What about 'em?"

"Nothing," Sam replied, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "Just... interesting choice."

Dean knew exactly what Sam was getting at, but he refused to take the bait. Instead, he focused on the greasy menu board above the counter, pretending to be deeply interested in the daily specials.

When their order was ready, Dean grabbed the bags and headed for the door without a word. Sam followed, grabbing the tray of drinks and shaking his head slightly at his brother's stubborn silence.

Back at the motel, Dean rapped sharply on Lorelai's door. There was a moment of silence, then the sound of shuffling feet. The door cracked open, revealing Lorelai, still pale, but clad in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Her eyes darted between them, suspicion clear in her gaze.

"Morning," Dean said gruffly, holding up the bag of food. "Brought breakfast."

Lorelai blinked, surprise flitting across her features before she schooled her expression into something more neutral. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, well," Dean shrugged, pushing past her into the room. It was dim, the curtains drawn against the morning light. Lorelai looked worse than she had the night before, the dark circles under her eyes more prominent than they'd been. But she held herself with the same stubborn determination Dean remembered so well. "Can't have you passing out on us."

Sam followed behind him, offering Lorelai an apologetic smile. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Lorelai insisted, though the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her. "Really, you guys don't need to worry."

Dean snorted, already unpacking the food onto the small table. "Yeah, 'cause you look the picture of health."

Lorelai shot a glare in his direction, but there was no real heat behind it. She settled into one of the chairs, eyeing the spread of food warily. Dean pushed the container of pancakes towards her, steadfastly ignoring the knowing look Sam was fixing him with, and when Lorelai opened it, her eyes widened slightly.

"Thank you," she murmured, so quietly Dean almost missed it. He shrugged again, avoiding her gaze as he dug into his own breakfast. "'S nothing," he dismissed. But when he passed her the coffee a moment later, he didn't miss the way she clutched at it like it was a lifeline.

An awkward silence fell over the room as they ate. Sam kept glancing between Dean and Lorelai, clearly bursting with questions. Dean continued to ignore him, focusing instead on his eggs. Lorelai picked at her pancakes, her movements slow and deliberate, as if each bite required immense concentration.

As they ate, the tension in the room slowly began to ease at least. Sam filled Lorelai in on what he'd found at the library, and she listened intently, her sharp mind clearly at work despite her exhaustion. Of course, when Lorelai realized what Dean had been up to while Sam had been at the library, her nostrils flared in irritation.

"You went behind my back and double checked all my work, didn't you," she accused, her glare deepening when the looks on his and Sam's faces all but confirmed it. "Itoldyou I'd taken care of those leads!"

"C'mon, Lor," Dean shot back, exasperation creeping into his voice. "You're not exactly in top form right now."

"I'm cursed, not incompetent," she snapped, pushing back from the table. "I don't need you two coming in here and second-guessing everything I've done."

"We're just trying to help," Sam interjected, his tone placating.

Lorelai whirled on him. "I didn't ask for your help! I was doing just fine on my own."

"Obviously," Dean muttered, unable to help himself, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Lorelai's glare could have melted steel.

"Screw you, Winchester. I've been handling cases like this for years. I don't need you swooping in to save the day."

"Alright, that's enough," Sam said, standing up. "Look, Lorelai, we're not trying to undermine you. But you've got to admit, this isn't a normal situation. We're just trying to cover all our bases."

Lorelai deflated slightly, running a hand through her tangled hair. "I know," she said, her voice softer. "I just... I hate feeling useless."

"You're not useless," Dean said, surprising himself with the gentleness in his voice. "Your work was solid. We just wanted to make sure we weren't missing anything. You would've done the same thing in our shoes."

Lorelai met his eyes, and for a moment, Dean saw a flicker of the connection they'd once shared. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a wary acceptance.

"Fine," she said, sitting back down. "So what's the plan?"

They spent the next hour going over their options. In the end it was decided that Sam and Lorelai would stay at the motel, continuing to research and working through the materials Sam had found. Dean would head out to check the few remaining possible gravesites Lorelai identified but hadn't gotten to yet.

As Dean headed for the door, he caught Sam's eye. His brother's expression was a mixture of concern and exasperation, but Dean ignored it. He needed some air, needed to put some distance between himself and the swirling emotions Lorelai's presence stirred up.

"I'll check in later," he called over his shoulder, not waiting for a response before stepping out into the crisp morning air.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Dean took a deep breath, trying to center himself. The weight of unspoken words and lingering regrets pressed down on him, threatening to suffocate him if he let his guard down for even a moment.

There was work to be done, a curse to break, and a life to save. And Dean Winchester had always been better at action than introspection. With a final glance at Lorelai's motel room door, he strode back towards the Impala, ready to lose himself in the familiar rhythm of the hunt.

Dean Winchester walking back into her life had not been on Lorelai's list of even the wildest things that could happen to her in 2006.

Dean Winchester walking back into her life to try and helpsaveher, after their last face-to-face encounter, was even further off that list. When she'd seen him through the window, she'd thought her heart was going to give out, and when he'd told her how he'd found her, she'd been ready to Apparate down to Lytton just to strangle her little sister. Or at least the thought had crossed her mind… her magic, of course, had been completely useless for days by then.

Begrudgingly, however, by day three, Lorelai had to admit, even if it were only to herself, that she was glad for the help.

Mostof the time, anyway.

"So you check out the county records?"

Lorelai gripped at the edges of the sink trying to focus on her breathing and shutting out the grisly tapestry the curse was creating around her when Sam's voice drifted, muffled but discernible through the closed door. She'd been trying to give the Winchesters space, keeping to her own room, but Sam had convinced her to come stay in their room a few hours ago – for her safety, he had said. She'd been reluctant, but given that he'd pled his case following a lapse of hers during which she'd nearly cracked her own head open in the shower, andhadsucceeded in shattering her bathroom mirror, it had been hard to argue.

"Uh, yeah," Dean's voice answered back, followed by the sound of jangling keys hitting the table. "I talked to, uh, Alicia, a charming… perky municipal secretary."

Even though her eyelids were closed, Lorelai rolled her eyes but continued on breathing. She didnothave time for something as petty as jealousy right now. There were bigger things to deal with… like the fact that when she opened her eyes, she was hoping the walls would have stopped bleeding.

"Yeah? What'd you find out?"

"Well, she's an Aries. She loves tequila – I meanwow. Oh, and she's got this little tattoo – "

"Dean!"

At least Sam seemed equally uninterested in whatever Dean was planning on saying next, though Lorelai gathered from his tone that this was a general and regular frustration of his.

"What? Yeah, and uh, nothing we didn't already figure out. Lor wasn't wrong about how useless the records were. Where is she, anyway?"

Lorelai Baudelaire, the famed war hero, a sinister voice sniped in her head.Nothing but a burden to the people around her once again. You should have jumped off that roof when you had the chance.

Taking in another ragged breath, Lorelai reached forward and turned the tap for the cold water. She thought deliberately of every happy memory she could, trying to ground herself the way she would to cast a Patronus, as she splashed the liquid onto her face, blocking out the rest of the world.

By the time she straightened back up and finally opened her eyes, the pain still racked her body, but the walls had stopped bleeding, and her head had mercifully gone quiet. Considering that a win, she wiped at her face, simultaneously drying off the remaining droplets and adopting the mask of impassiveness she'd adopted growing up with the Baudelaires before reaching for the doorknob.

Sam was still seated at the small table, books and maps spread out like a tablecloth, and Dean was now seated across from him. They both looked up when she entered the room, and Lorelai noticed the somewhat sheepish, uncomfortable look Dean shot in her direction. She sent back a mild smile, not willing to let him know his comments about Alicia had affected her in any way, and tried not to be too bothered by the concern on Sam's face.

"How're you doing?" Sam asked cautiously. Lorelai shrugged, dropping down onto the foot of one of the beds and pulling her knees up to her chest. Still gripping at the edges of her long sleeves, she wrapped her arms around her legs and lent against them.

"'M fine," she lied, and although she felt confident in her acting capabilities, neither of the boys seemed to buy it.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Dean asked dryly. Lorelai turned, rolling her eyes, doing her best to make her irritation clear.

"Three," she answered. "I'm going crazy not blind." Though what she didn't say was that while she could clearly see Dean's hand, she could also see a ghastly figure lurking behind him that sheknewwasn't real. Dean dropped his hand but was unamused, and looked over to Sam.

"Hand me one of those books. Lor, why don't you try and get some sleep?"

Sleep. The concept was so simple yet felt so unattainable. Biting the inside of her mouth, Lorelai shook her head and let her eyes hone in and go unfocused staring at a blank spot on the wall.

"I'm not tired."

In her peripheral, which was now blurry, she could see a flurry of movement – some type of nonverbal communication between the brothers, she assumed. Ultimately, Dean was looking in her direction again, a book now in hand and a hint of frustration in his demeanor.

"Bullshit. Walls are thin here, sweetheart. Heard you screaming half the night – and not in the fun way."

Lorelai blanched, her eyes going wide and betraying her surprise. Dean, noticing as much, seemed somewhat satisfied, but Sam gave him a withering look before standing from the table. Lorelai was surprised when he dropped onto the bed next to her, and even more surprised when he reached out to pull her around, forcing her gaze away from the table and onto him.

"Hey, how about we just talk a bit while Dean works on those maps a little more? You know, we haven't really had a chance to catch up."

Catching up was, quite honestly, the last thing Lorelai felt like doing just then. But Sam's ability to pull a puppy dog face was no joke, and Lorelai felt herself nodding, even as she sighed. He smiled when she did, and Lorelai reluctantly shuffled back on the bed, settling in to lean against the headboard, but still keeping her legs against her chest, her arms wrapped securely around them. Sam stretched out at the foot of the bed, and from the corner of her eye, Lorelai noticed Dean observing them for a moment before he shifted in his seat and turned to study the mess on the table instead.

"So, you and Katie are in New York now you said?" Lorelai nodded, tilting her head back towards the ceiling and trying to invoke images of their apartment. It had been a while since she'd been there for any length of time, and she fleetingly hoped she'd see it again.

"Yeah. We, uh… we moved there about three years ago now. We were in London before that, but then I got the job offer from MACUSA."

"How do you like the job? This case aside." Lorelai didn't have to fake the smile that twisted onto her face.

"Ilovethe job, even with this case." Sam did a poor job of hiding his surprise, but Lorelai noticed the knowing smile playing across Dean's face, even as he continued to stare down at the maps, giving no other signs that he was listening. "It's the first thing that's come naturally to me since the war."

"What do you do exactly? I thought Aurors were like our police, but you're out here on a cursed object."

"Eh, I'm a little odd as far as Aurors go," Lorelai admitted with a shrug. "We're notexactlylike police, we have Hit Wizards for your normal day-to-day bullshit. Aurors are more like your FBI. We'remeantto catch dark wizards, but we all have our specialties we work in too. I've got training in the Muggle world a lot of our Muggleborns don't have, so I fill out my time with any threats to the Muggles we catch wind of."

"Like what?" Lorelai smiled, her head tipping back against the headboard and her eyes glazing over to the ceiling again. She was strongly reminded of a fifteen-year-old Sam peppering her with questions in the car on her way to drop him off at school. It filled her with an affectionate nostalgia, and she begrudgingly recognized that his attempts at distracting her were at least working.

"Some of the stuff you guys deal with – demons, cursed objects, vengeful spirits… I deal with a lot of monsters and creatures. Some of those you guys see – like werewolves. That's how I met your brother. Then there's others it's less likely you've run into, like Nundus."

"What's a Nundu?" Sam asked, his voice less bright this time around, and more wary. Lorelai grimaced, a phantom pain shooting down her leg.

"A fucking menace at best. They look a little bit like a leopard, but they're gigantic, absolutely vicious and impossible to tame. They move silently and their breath is toxic. More common in East Africa, where they're from – and those fuckers can wipe out entire villages there. Here they normally pop up when some asshole thinks he's gonna beat the odds and breed 'em, even though it's illegal."

"How often does that happen?" Sam asked. Lorelai shrugged.

"On occasion. Last breeder I arrested had made an attempt but it was the Acromantulas - giant spiders - he was selling that tipped me off."

Lorelai found herself relaxing slightly as she and Sam continued to chat, his gentle questions and genuine interest providing a welcome distraction from the chaos in her mind. Despite the pain and exhaustion still racking her body and the constantly evolving, the constantly evolving and increasingly unsettling imagery at least stayed relegated to the edges of her vision, and the voices quieted. It was a welcome change.

"Is that common? Illegal breeding?" Lorelai shrugged again.

"Sure. If someone can think of a way to make money off something illicit, you can bet there's gonna be people dumb enough to try it. Last month I caught some asshole trying to smuggle dragon eggs into the city. I mean, how stupid do you have to be? Where the hell are you gonna hide a dragon in New York City once it's fully grown?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Dragons are real?"

"Oh yeah," Lorelai nodded, a wry smile playing at her lips. "Big, scaly, fire-breathing bastards. Some of 'em anyway. Definitely not something you want loose in downtown Manhattan, regardless of the breed."

From his spot at the table, Dean snorted. "And here I thought New York couldn't get any worse."

Lorelai rolled her eyes, and for a moment she forgot they were supposed to be at odds.

"Please. You loved New York when you came to visit."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Lorelai felt the atmosphere in the room shift. Dean's shoulders tensed, his eyes darting to meet hers for a brief moment before quickly looking away. Sam glanced between them, clearly sensing the sudden tension. He'd just opened his mouth to say something when Dean stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

"You know, I don't think we checked out the cemetery behind this church," he announced, cutting across anything anyone else might have said, as if Lorelai hadn't slipped up. "It's old enough to be a possibility, though. I'm gonna head out, check it out."

Sam frowned, glancing between his brother and Lorelai. "You want me to come with?"

Dean hesitated, his eyes flickering to Lorelai for a brief moment. "Nah, I got this. You should stay here, keep an eye on things."

And suddenly the awkwardness was forgotten and Lorelai found herself bristling instead, eyes narrowing at the implication that she needed a babysitter.

"I'm fine, you know," she snapped, starting to feel like a broken record, before catching herself. "Sam doesn't need to stay on my account," she continued, deliberately gentling her voice. "You guys should go. I'll just... hang out here. Maybe catch up on some sleep."

Dean's eyes narrowed, skepticism clear on his face. If Lorelai had thought sounding less irritable was going to do her any favors she'd been sorely mistaken. Dean wasn't having any of it.

"You sure about that?" he retorted. "Because last I checked, sleep wasn't exactly coming easy for you."

Another wave of irritation flared in Lorelai's chest. "I said I'll be fine, Dean. I'm a big girl, I can handle being alone for a few hours."

"Look, Lor, I get that you're trying to be tough here, but-"

"But nothing," Lorelai interjected, her patience wearing thin. "I don't need a babysitter. Just go do your job and let me deal with mine."

Dean's jaw clenched, his green eyes flashing with a mixture of frustration and what she thought might be concern.

"Your job right now is to not die, sweetheart. And I'm not about to leave you alone when you're seeing God knows what."

"Dean's right," Sam chimed in, his voice gentle but firm. "It's not safe for you to be alone right now, Lorelai. One of us should stay with you."

Lorelai felt her temper rising, the curse amplifying her emotions. "Oh, so now you two are deciding what's best for me? Last I checked, I was still capable of making my own decisions."

"Yeah, because your decision making's been real stellar lately, Lor –"

"And how would you know?" Lorelai challenged, rising to her feet and crossing her arms over her chest. "You think because you caught me on a bad week you get to start passing judgment or that you magically know what's best for me? News flash, Dean, you don't get to waltz back into my life after eight months and start calling the shots."

Dean's expression hardened, a flash of hurt crossing his face before he masked it with anger. "Yeah? Well, maybe if you hadn't lied to me for half a year, I wouldn't have had to waltz back in at all."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and charged. Lorelai felt as if she'd been slapped, the pain of their separation resurging with renewed force.

"Guys, come on," Sam interjected, his voice placating. "This isn't helping anyone. Why don't we just-"

"You know what?" Dean cut him off, his eyes never leaving Lorelai's face. "We don't have time for this. I'm gonna go check out these leads myself. You stay here with her, make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

Without waiting for a response, Dean grabbed his jacket and keys, striding towards the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, glancing back at Lorelai one last time. For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something softer in his eyes - regret, maybe, or concern. But then it was gone, replaced by the hard mask of indifference he'd been wearing since he arrived.

"Try not to die while I'm gone," he said gruffly, and then he was out the door, leaving Lorelai and Sam in stunned silence.

As the door slammed shut behind Dean, Lorelai felt the fight drain out of her. She slumped back onto the bed, suddenly exhausted. The room spun slightly, and she closed her eyes, willing the nausea and disorientation to pass.

"Hey," Sam's voice was soft, concerned. "You okay?"

Lorelai let out a bitter laugh, embarrassment starting to mix with her linger anger.

"Oh, yeah. Just peachy," she grumbled, sinking back onto the bed and pinching the bridge of her nose. For all her insistence that she was fine, her energy really was flagging. A moment later she felt the bed dip as Sam sat down beside her. And when she opened her eyes, she found him watching her with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity.

"You want to talk about it?" he offered gently.

Lorelai sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Not really. But something tells me you're not going to let it go that easily."

Sam's lips quirked in a small smile. "Well, I am known for my persistence. But seriously, Lorelai... what happened between you two? Dean won't tell me anything, and it's clear there's a lot of unresolved stuff there."

For a long moment, Lorelai was silent, weighing her options. Part of her wanted to brush Sam off, to keep her walls up and her secrets close. But another part, the part that was exhausted from carrying the weight of her past alone, and even more so from the lack of sleep, longed to unburden herself.

"It's... complicated," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We met on a job, hit it off. Spent about five months... I don't know, dating? If you can call it that. But I... I didn't tell him what I was. About the magic."

Understanding dawned on Sam's face, though Lorelai noticed he didn't seem surprised. "And when he found out..."

"He didn't take it well," Lorelai confirmed, a sad smile playing at her lips. "Can't say I blame him, really. I lied to him for months. But..."

"But it still hurt," Sam finished for her. Lorelai swallowed past the lump in her throat.

"I'm fine," she said instead of answering. "It's fine."

Sam was quiet for a moment, processing. When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, probing. "Do you still have feelings for him?"

"What?" she asked before she could stop herself, her head snapping up and her voice rising in pitch. "No, I… that's not… we're just…"

But the words died on her tongue as she met Sam's knowing gaze. She deflated, feeling completely caught out in the face of his quiet understanding.

"It's not like that," she mumbled half-heartedly, looking away. Sam nodded, and Lorelai tried to focus on a spot on the carpet as the word started to swirl around her again.

"Yeah. He's about as convincing as you are," Sam quipped, though his voice was gentle. Lorelai's heart skipped a beat at his words, hope and fear warring within her. She squashed it down ruthlessly, though, unwilling to let herself believe.

"It doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head. "Too much has happened. There's too much... baggage."

"Maybe," Sam conceded. "But maybe not. Look, I don't know exactly what went down between you two, but I know my brother. And I've never seen him act the way he does around you. Not with anyone."

Lorelai didn't respond, her mind whirling with conflicting emotions and other specters trying to vie for her attention. Sam seemed to sense her need for space, because he stood, stretching slightly.

"Why don't you try to get some rest?" he suggested. "I can find something on TV, keep the volume low. Might help distract you from... you know."

Lorelai nodded gratefully, suddenly aware of how bone-deep tired she was. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Sam."

As Sam busied himself with the TV, Lorelai settled back against the pillows, her eyes drifting closed. The curse still pulsed at the edges of her consciousness, threatening to overwhelm her, but for now, she felt... not safe, exactly, but protected. Cared for.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to let her zone out and slip into the closest thing to sleep her body would allow, fitful and restless as it was.

Hours later, Dean Winchester leaned against the Impala, his eyes scanning the darkened street. The streetlights cast an eerie glow over the pavement, creating long shadows that seemed to dance in the corners of his vision. The sun hadn't set all that long ago, but it felt late. Frustration gnawed at him, mingling with the ever-present worry that had taken up residence in his chest since he'd gotten that voicemail from Katie. The latest round of leads he'd chased down had led nowhere, just like all the others, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take.

Lorelai had estimated she had two more days, maybe three when they'd gotten there. They were at the end of that second day, and he felt no closer to an answer than when they'd started.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled out his phone. His thumb hovered over Sam's number for a moment before he hit call, bringing the device to his ear. It rang twice before his brother's voice came through, slightly hushed.

"Dean? Any luck?"

"Nah, man" Dean replied, running a hand down his face. "Struck out on all fronts. How's it going on your end?"

There was a pause, and Dean could hear the faint rustling of movement. When Sam spoke again, his voice was even quieter, as if he'd stepped away from something – or someone.

"Not great. I've been going through some old records, but nothing's jumping out. And Lorelai... I think she might be asleep, but it's hard to tell. She's been tossing and turning for the last hour or so."

Dean's jaw clenched, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. "She still in the room with you?"

"Yeah, but I stepped outside to take the call. Didn't want to risk waking her if she is asleep."

Dean nodded, even though Sam couldn't see him. "Good call. How's she holding up?"

Sam sighed, and Dean could picture his brother running a hand through his hair. "It's hard to tell. But she definitely seems like she's getting worse, not better."

"Dammit," Dean muttered, closing his eyes briefly. "We're running out of time, Sammy."

"I know," Sam's voice was laced with concern. "But we'll figure it out, Dean. We always do."

Dean wanted to believe him, he really did. But the image of Lorelai, pale and shaking, her arm all scratched up with those symbols and the scared look in her eye, kept flashing through his mind. He'd seen a lot of ugly things in his life, but the thought of losing her... it made his chest tight in a way he wasn't ready to examine too closely.

"Look, I've got a few more leads I want to chase down," Sam continued, breaking through Dean's thoughts. "Maybe we missed something in the local history."

Dean hesitated, torn between the desire to keep searching and the need to check on Lorelai himself.

"Yeah, alright. I've got one more place to check out myself and then I'll head back to the motel, see if I can give you a hand with the research. You need anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. Just... be careful, alright?"

Dean snorted. "Always am, Sammy. See you soon."

As he hung up, Dean couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they were missing something. Something important. He climbed back into the Impala, the familiar creak of the door a small comfort in the face of the uncertainty that lay ahead.

It was only an hour or two later when Dean pulled into the parking lot, and he wasted no time grabbing the bags of takeout he'd picked up on the way – greasy burgers and fries that he hoped might tempt Lorelai into eating something – before making his way to their room. Sam looked up as Dean entered, his face drawn with fatigue.

"Hey," he greeted, closing the book he'd been poring over. "How'd it go?"

Dean shook his head, dropping the food onto the table. "Dead end. You?"

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nothing concrete. Still got plenty more to get through, Lorelai just got her hands on some more files from MACUSA. But..."

"Yeah," Dean nodded, understanding all too well. His eyes darted around the room, noticing the distinct lack of a certain stubborn witch. "Speaking of which, where is Lor?"

A flicker of unease crossed Sam's face. "She, uh... she went back to her room about an hour ago. Said she needed to make a call or grab something, I'm not sure. She was pretty insistent."

Dean felt his jaw clench, a mixture of worry and frustration bubbling up inside him. "And you just let her go? Dammit, Sam, she's not exactly firing on all cylinders right now."

"I know, I know," Sam held up his hands placatingly. "But you know how she is. I figured it was better to let her go and come back than to try and force her to stay."

Dean ran a hand down his face, warring with the urge to march over to Lorelai's room right that second. "Yeah, well, it's been an hour. She should've been back by now."

Sam nodded, concern evident in his eyes. "You're right. Maybe we should..."

But Dean was already moving, grabbing one of the takeout bags. "I'll go check on her. You start in on that," he gestured to the food. "No sense in both of us running on empty."

Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Dean's expression must have given him pause. "Alright," he conceded. "Just... be careful, okay? She's been pretty on edge."

Dean nodded, already halfway out the door. "Yeah, I got it. I'll be back soon."

The short walk to Lorelai's room felt like it took an eternity. Dean's mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last. He tried to tell himself he was overreacting, that Lorelai was more than capable of taking care of herself, and that she still had time. But the sinking feeling in his gut was there to stay.

He knocked on her door, the sound echoing in the late-night quiet. "Lor? You in there?"

There was no response. Dean felt his heart rate pick up, his hand already reaching for the lockpick in his pocket. Just as he was about to start working on the lock, he heard a muffled thud from inside the room, followed by what sounded like a choked sob.

All pretense of caution flew out the window. Dean shouldered the door open, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room. What he saw made his blood run cold.

Lorelai was huddled in the corner, her knees drawn up to her chest, her eyes wide and unfocused. She was muttering something under her breath, her hands clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white. But what really got to Dean was the look of abject terror on her face – a look he'd never seen on her before, not even in the most dire of situations.

"Lor?" he called softly, approaching her slowly. When he got no response, he crouched down to her level. "Hey, it's me. It's Dean. Can you hear me?"

She still didn't reply, continuing to rock and mutter under her breath. Dean's heart clenched at the sight of her, so vulnerable and scared. Without thinking, he reached out, gently touching her arm.

Lorelai flinched violently at the contact, her eyes snapping to Dean's face. For a moment, she looked right through him, as if he weren't there at all. Then, slowly, recognition dawned in her eyes.

"Dean?" her voice was barely above a whisper, cracked and uncertain.

"Yeah, it's me," he assured her, keeping his voice low and steady. "You're okay. You're safe."

Lorelai blinked rapidly, her gaze darting around the room. "I... I don't... everything's wrong. The walls, they're... and there's so much blood..."

Watching Lorelai's wide, unfocused eyes darting around the room only twisted Dean up further. Her words about blood and wrongness sent a chill down his spine. He'd seen his fair share of curses and supernatural afflictions, but seeing Lorelai – strong, stubborn, pain-in-his-ass Lorelai – reduced to this state shook him to his core.

"Hey, hey, listen to me," Dean said softly, keeping his voice steady despite the worry churning in his gut. He shifted closer, careful not to make any sudden movements. "There's no blood, okay? It's just you and me here. Can you focus on my voice?"

Lorelai's gaze flickered to him, a hint of recognition sparking in her eyes. Dean seized on that small victory.

"That's it, sweetheart. Just keep looking at me," he encouraged. "We're gonna try something, alright? I need you to tell me five things you can see right now. Five real things, here in the room."

Lorelai's brow furrowed in confusion, but she seemed to latch onto the task. Her eyes darted around before settling back on Dean's face.

"I... I see you," she started, her voice shaky. "Your... your eyes. Green."

Dean nodded encouragingly. "Good, that's good. What else?"

"The... the bed," Lorelai continued, her gaze moving past him. "The lamp on the nightstand. My... my bag by the door. And..." She paused, squinting slightly. "The ugly wallpaper."

A ghost of a smile tugged at Dean's lips. Even in her current state, a bit of Lorelai's dry humor managed to shine through.

"Yeah, it is pretty hideous, isn't it? Okay, now tell me four things you can feel."

Lorelai's hands unclenched slightly, her palms pressing against the carpet. "The floor. It's... rough. Cold." She shifted, seeming to become more aware of her surroundings. "My clothes. They feel... soft. And..." Her eyes met Dean's again. "Your hand on my arm. It's warm."

Dean realized he was still touching her, his thumb unconsciously rubbing small circles on her skin. He started to pull away, but Lorelai's hand shot out, gripping his wrist.

"Don't," she whispered. "It... it helps."

Dean nodded, settling closer. "Okay, I'm not going anywhere. One more?"

She frowned, before letting her own hand holding him drift.

"Your jacket," she finally said, gently touching his sleeve. "It's smooth. Cool."

"That's right," Dean said softly. "Now, how about three things you can hear?"

Lorelai closed her eyes, concentrating. "The air conditioning. It's... humming. A car passing outside. And... your breathing."

"You're doing great, sweetheart," Dean assured her, his voice low and soothing. "Two things you can smell?"

Lorelai inhaled deeply. "Coffee. From earlier, I think. It's stale. And..." She leaned in slightly, her nose nearly brushing Dean's jacket. "Gunpowder and leather. You."

Dean's breath caught in his throat at her proximity. He pushed aside the surge of emotions her words stirred up, focusing on the task at hand, forcing a chuckle.

"Yeah, occupational hazard. Alright, last one. One thing you can taste?"

Lorelai's tongue darted out, wetting her lips. "Copper," she admitted. "I think I bit my cheek earlier."

Dean's jaw clenched at the thought of her in pain, but he forced himself to relax. "Okay, how are you feeling now? Any better?"

Lorelai blinked, seeming to come back to herself more fully. She looked around the room, relief evident in her expression. "Yeah, actually. The walls aren't... they're not moving anymore. And the blood's gone." Her gaze settled on Dean, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment in her eyes. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Dean said gruffly, suddenly aware of how close they were. In his efforts to ground her, he'd ended up practically cradling her against his chest, one hand still on her arm while the other had somehow found its way to the small of her back.

Lorelai seemed to realize their position at the same moment. She stiffened slightly but didn't pull away. Instead, she looked up at Dean, her blue eyes searching his face.

"Where's Sam?" she asked softly.

The question hit Dean like a punch to the gut. Of course she'd want to know where Sam was. His brother, who didn't have the complicated history with her that Dean did. Who hadn't royally screwed things up between them.

"Not here," Dean replied, doing his best to keep the hint of bitterness from his voice. "He's still back in our room, doing research."

Lorelai nodded, her eyes darting away from his face. "Right. Of course."

Dean stood, taking a step back to give her some space. "You had us worried, you know," he said, his tone aiming for casual but landing somewhere closer to accusatory. "Disappearing like that."

Lorelai's eyes snapped back to his, a flash of irritation crossing her face. "I didn't disappear," she retorted. "I came back to my room. I'm allowed to do that."

"Yeah, well, given the circumstances, maybe going off on your own wasn't the best idea," Dean shot back, feeling his own frustration rising to the surface. Didn't she get how close they were to losing her?

Lorelai pushed herself to her feet, swaying slightly before steadying herself against the wall. "I don't need a babysitter, Dean," she said, her voice sharp. He was so tired of hearing that from her. "I can handle myself just fine."

"Is that what you call 'fine' Lor? You huddled in a corner seeing shit that isn't there? Because it didn't look so fine to me," Dean snapped. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Hurt flashed across Lorelai's face before her expression hardened into a mask of anger.

"You don't get to do this," she said, her voice low and trembling with emotion. "You don't get to just drop back into my life and act like you care, not after..."

"After what?" Dean challenged, taking a step closer. He hadn't meant to step back into the fight they'd started before he'd left earlier, but Lorelai had a way of undermining his intentions. "After you lied to me for months? After you kept this huge part of yourself hidden?"

"For good reason, as it turned out!" Lorelai shouted, her eyes blazing. "What was it you said after I told you what I was, again? Oh, right! I'm something you're supposed to be hunting!"

Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut. The memory of that night, of the fear and anger that had coursed through him when he'd learned the truth, crashed over him like a tidal wave. But mixed with it now was the crushing regret he'd felt in the days and weeks that followed, the realization of what he'd thrown away.

"I was scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was scared, and I was hurt, and I lashed out. But Lor, I'm here, and I'm trying to help. You gotta know... I never would have actually hurt you."

Lorelai's anger seemed to deflate, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness that made Dean's chest ache. "But you did hurt me, Dean," she said softly. "You hurt me more than I thought was possible."

"I didn't mean to!" he cried, desperate for her to believe him or desperate for it to matter, he wasn't sure.

"What a consolation!" she fired back sarcastically, and Dean ran a hand down his face, warring with his own feelings.

"I'm sorry!"

They stood there for a moment, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy between them. Dean wanted nothing more than to close the distance between them, to pull her into his arms and never let go. But he held back, afraid of pushing too far.

It was Lorelai who moved first. In two quick strides, she was in front of him, her hands fisting in the front of his shirt as she pulled him down into another searing kiss.

Dean froze for a split second, shocked by the sudden turn of events. Then his body caught up with his brain, and he was kissing her back with equal fervor. It was messy and desperate, teeth clashing and noses bumping as they both poured months of pent-up longing and frustration into the contact. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him as he backed her up against the wall.

Lorelai gasped into his mouth, her fingers threading through his hair. Dean groaned, deepening the kiss as slid his hands under Lorelai's shirt, his calloused fingers skimming over the soft skin of her sides. She arched into his touch, a small whimper escaping her. The sound sent a jolt of desire through Dean, but it also served as a stark reminder of the situation they were in.

With enormous effort, Dean pulled back, his breathing ragged.

"Lor," he panted, resting his forehead against hers. "We shouldn't... you're not..."

"Don't you dare," Lorelai growled, her eyes flashing with determination. "I may not be at my best, Dean, but I'm perfectly lucid. And I want this. I want you."

Dean hesitated, searching her face for any sign of doubt. Fuck he wanted her, but not if it wasn't real, not if she wasn't her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice rough with need. "Because if we start this, I don't know if I'll be able to stop."

A wry smile tugged at her lips that was pure Lorelai, her eyes alight for the first time the way he remembered, that fire of hers he loved so much sparking back to life, and Dean felt something ease in his chest.

"Good," she said, pulling him back towards her. "Because I don't want you to stop."

"Fuck it," he growled, capturing her lips in another searing kiss.

They stumbled towards the bed, hands roaming and tugging at clothes. Dean's jacket hit the floor, followed quickly by Lorelai's shirt. As the back of her knees hit the mattress, Lorelai fell backwards, pulling Dean down with her.

Dean braced himself on his forearms, hovering over her as he drank in the sight of her. Her dark hair was splayed out on the pillow, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. There was a hint of color in her cheeks that had been missing earlier, and her eyes were clear and focused as they met his.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, trailing his fingers along her jawline.

Lorelai's lips quirked up in a small smile. "You're not so bad yourself, Winchester," she teased, her hands sliding under his t-shirt.

Dean shivered at her touch, quickly divesting himself of the offending garment. As soon as it was gone, Lorelai's hands were on him, tracing the planes of his chest and abs, refamiliarizing herself. Dean leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her neck and collarbone.

"Missed you," he mumbled against her skin. "Missed this."

Lorelai arched into him, her fingers threading through his hair. "Show me," she breathed.

Dean was more than happy to oblige. He kissed his way down her body, relearning every curve and sensitive spot. When he reached the waistband of her jeans, he looked up, silently asking permission. At Lorelai's nod, he made quick work of the button and zipper, sliding the denim down her legs.

As he settled between her thighs, Dean was struck by a sense of déjà vu. How many times had they been in this position before? How many times had he worshipped her body, drawing out every gasp and moan? But there was an urgency to this encounter that hadn't been there before, a desperate need to reconnect and reaffirm what they'd once had.

Dean pressed a kiss to the inside of Lorelai's thigh, reveling in the way she shivered beneath him. He trailed his lips higher, teasing her through the thin fabric of her underwear. Lorelai's hips bucked, a frustrated whine escaping her lips.

"Dean, please," she gasped. "I need..."

"I know, sweetheart," Dean soothed, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her panties. "I've got you."

He slid the fabric down her legs, tossing it aside before settling back between her thighs. The first swipe of his tongue had Lorelai arching off the bed, a strangled moan tearing from her throat. Dean set to work with single-minded focus, alternating between broad strokes and targeted flicks of his tongue.

Lorelai's hands found their way to his hair, her fingers tangling in the short strands as she guided him where she needed him most. Dean slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right as he sucked on her clit. The combination had Lorelai crying out, her thighs trembling on either side of his head.

"That's it," Dean encouraged, his voice rough with arousal. "Let go for me, Lor. Wanna see you fall apart."

It only took a few more well-placed licks and the crook of his fingers for Lorelai to come undone. She cried out Dean's name as she shattered, her back arching off the bed. Dean worked her through it, easing off as she became oversensitive.

As Lorelai caught her breath, Dean kissed his way back up her body. When he reached her lips, she pulled him into a deep, languid kiss, tasting herself on his tongue.

"Your turn," she murmured against his lips, her hands already working at his belt.

Dean groaned as Lorelai palmed him through his jeans. He kicked off his boots, allowing her to push his pants and boxers down his legs. As soon as he was naked, Lorelai flipped them, straddling his hips.

"Fuck, Lor," Dean breathed, his hands settling on her waist. "You're gorgeous."

Lorelai smiled, a hint of her usual confidence shining through. She reached between them, grasping Dean's cock and giving it a few slow strokes. Dean let his head fall back against the pillow, a low moan escaping him.

"Lorelai, sweetheart, I need –"

But the rest of his sentence was rendered moot as she sealed her lips to his once more, all the while positioning herself above him and sinking down slow, taking him in inch by inch.

For a moment, they both stilled, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Then Lorelai began to move, setting a steady rhythm that had them both gasping.

Dean's hands roamed her body, cupping her breasts and teasing her nipples to stiff peaks. Lorelai braced herself on his chest, her nails leaving crescent marks in his skin as she rode him.

"Fuck, Dean," she panted. "Feels so good."

Dean thrust up to meet her, the angle allowing him to hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. "That's it, sweetheart," he encouraged. "Take what you need."

The room filled with the sounds of their passion – skin against skin, breathless moans, and whispered encouragements. Dean could feel himself getting close, the familiar tension building in his lower abdomen.

"Lor," he groaned. "M'close."

Lorelai nodded, her movements becoming more erratic. "Me too," she gasped. "Just a little more..."

Dean slid a hand between them, his thumb finding her clit. He rubbed tight circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching in awe as Lorelai's face contorted in pleasure.

"Come on, baby," he urged. "Come for me. Wanna feel you."

With a cry of Dean's name, Lorelai came undone above him. The sight of her in the throes of ecstasy, combined with the feeling of her clenching around him, was enough to send Dean over the edge. He came with a strangled groan, his hips jerking as he spilled into her.

As they both came down from their high, Lorelai collapsed onto Dean's chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck. Dean wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Dean traced lazy patterns on Lorelai's back, relishing the feeling of her warm skin against his. He knew they should talk, knew there were still a million things left unsaid between them. But for now, he was content to bask in the afterglow, pushing aside the nagging voice in his head that reminded him of the ticking clock they were up against.

Eventually, Lorelai stirred, propping herself up on Dean's chest to look at him. Her hair was a mess, her lips swollen from their kisses, and Dean thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

"Hey," she said softly, a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

"Hey yourself," Dean replied, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Lorelai bit her lip, a gesture that never failed to capture Dean's attention. "You, uh... you okay?" he found himself asking, suddenly nervous , however, nodded, a small smile playing at her lips.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Better than okay, actually. I feel... clearer, somehow. Like the curse has backed off a bit."

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? You're not seeing things anymore?"

"Not at the moment," Lorelai confirmed. "I don't know how long it'll last, but... it's nice."

Relief washed over Dean. He pulled Lorelai closer, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Good. That's... that's real good, Lor."

They lapsed into silence again, both lost in their own thoughts. Dean knew they should talk about what had just happened, about where they stood now. But he was afraid to break the fragile peace that had settled between them. And more concerned about the immediate threats they were facing.

It was Lorelai who spoke first, her voice barely above a whisper, and taking him completely by surprise.

"I missed you, you know. These past eight months... they've been hell."

Dean's arms tightened around her. Neither of them were great at the opening up thing, but he knew Lorelai was even worse than him… knew how hard sentiments like that were for her.

"I missed you too," he admitted. "More than I thought was possible."

Lorelai lifted her head, meeting Dean's gaze. "We really fucked things up, didn't we?"

Dean let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, we did. But Lor... I want you to know, I never stopped caring about you. Even when I was pissed as hell, even when I thought I'd never see you again... that never changed."

Lorelai's eyes softened, a mix of emotions swirling in their blue depths. "I know the feeling," she said softly, settling her head against his chest. "I tried to move on, to forget about you… for a while I wanted to hate you… but at the end of the day none of it mattered. I still just… well, you."

Dean's heart clenched at her words. He wanted nothing more than to tell her how he felt, to lay it all out on the line. But the reality of their situation – the curse, the ticking clock – held him back.

"Look," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I know we've got a lot of shit to work through. And I know now's not the time to hash it all out. But Lor... I need you to know that I'm not going anywhere. We're gonna beat this curse, and then... then we'll figure the rest out. Okay?"

Lorelai studied him for a moment, as if searching for any hint of insincerity. And for a moment he doubted himself – he meant it, but there was a small nagging voice, reminding him that it was easier said than done. Whatever she saw in his face, though, must have satisfied her, because she nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Okay," she agreed. "But Dean... you have to promise me something."

"Anything," Dean said without hesitation.

Lorelai's expression turned serious. "If... if we can't break the curse in time, if something happens to me... you can't blame yourself. You have to promise me you'll keep going, that you won't do anything stupid."

Dean felt like he'd been punched in the gut. The thought of losing Lorelai, of failing to save her, was almost too much to bear. But he saw the determination in her eyes, the fierce protectiveness that had always been one of the things he loved most about her.

"Lor," he started, his voice choked with emotion.

"Promise me, Dean," Lorelai insisted. "I need to know you'll be okay, no matter what happens."

Dean swallowed hard, fighting against the lump in his throat. "I promise," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it's not gonna come to that. I'm not letting anything happen to you, you hear me? We're gonna figure this out."

Lorelai's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she nodded, a watery smile on her face. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay."

Dean pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. As he held her, he sent up a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening. He'd lost too much in his life already. He couldn't lose her too. Not now, not when they finally had a chance to make things right.

As the first rays of dawn began to peek through the shabby motel curtains, Dean made a silent vow. He would move heaven and earth to save Lorelai. And when this was all over, when the curse was broken and they were both safe, he'd tell her everything. He'd lay his heart bare and hope that she felt the same.

But for now, he was content to hold her close, savoring the warmth of her body against his and the steady rhythm of her breathing. They had work to do, a curse to break. But for this moment, in the quiet of the early morning, Dean allowed himself to hope for a future where moments like this weren't stolen, where he and Lorelai could finally have the chance they deserved.

With that thought in mind, Dean pressed a soft kiss to Lorelai's temple and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off into a peaceful sleep for the first time in months.

As the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the threadbare curtains of the motel room, Lorelai Baudelaire found herself caught in a moment of unexpected tranquility. Her body was comfortably nestled against Dean Winchester's, his arm draped protectively over her waist, his steady breathing a soothing rhythm against her back. Despite the looming threat of the curse that still lingered at the edges of her consciousness, Lorelai felt more at peace than she had in months.

She hadn't slept much, the insomnia that had plagued her for the past week still present, but the rest she'd managed to get was more substantial than anything she'd experienced since the curse took hold. The violent hallucinations and tormenting voices that had been her constant companions had retreated, leaving her mind blissfully quiet. It was as if Dean's presence acted as a buffer, creating a temporary ceasefire in the war being waged inside her head.

Lorelai shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Dean as she turned to face the window. The sunrise painted the sky in soft hues of pink and gold, a stark contrast to the drab interior of the motel room. She watched as the colors slowly intensified, transforming the world outside into a canvas of warmth and light.

As she lay there, Lorelai couldn't help but marvel at the change in her condition. The curse's effects had been relentless, wearing her down both physically and mentally. But now, wrapped in Dean's arms, she felt almost normal again. It was more than just the absence of symptoms; there was a profound sense of rightness, of belonging, that she couldn't quite explain.

A nagging thought tugged at the back of her mind, a suspicion she'd been trying to ignore since she and Dean had reconnected. The way they fit together, the inexplicable pull she felt towards him, the soothing effect his presence had on her cursed state – it all pointed to something deeper, something she wasn't ready to confront. Lorelai quickly pushed the thought aside, unwilling to even consider the implications. She'd been down that road before, and the pain of losing Fred was still too raw, too real.

Instead, she focused on the present moment, on the warmth of Dean's body against hers and the soft light of dawn creeping across the room. She allowed herself to hope, just for a moment, that they might find a way through this mess, that there might be a future where mornings like this weren't stolen moments in shabby motel rooms. Their conversation from the night before played on repeat, teasing her but giving her something to hope for.

Behind her, Dean stirred, his arm tightening around her waist as he nuzzled into her hair, and she could almost pretend the last eight months hadn't happened.

"Mmm," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "Y'okay?"

Lorelai hesitated, unsure how to answer. She was better than okay, physically at least. But emotionally? She was a tangled mess of things… fear and longing for one, but hope and cautious optimism among them too.

"Yeah," she whispered finally. "Just... can't sleep."

Dean made a soft noise of understanding, pulling her closer. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin behind her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "S'okay," he murmured. "M'here. I got you."

Lorelai couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "Go back to sleep," she whispered. "It's early."

But Dean, even in his half-asleep state, seemed to sense her restlessness. He propped himself up on one elbow, blinking blearily as he looked down at her. "You sure you're okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice despite the lingering drowsiness. Lorelai turned to face him, her heart warming at the sight of his tousled hair and sleep-softened features.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Really, it's just the insomnia. But mostly I feel... better."

Something flickered in Dean's eyes, a mix of relief and something deeper that Lorelai couldn't quite name. Without a word, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then to the tip of her nose, and finally to her lips. It was a gentle, almost reverent gesture, so different from the heated passion they'd shared earlier.

"Good," he murmured against her skin. "That's good, Lor."

They lay there for a while, trading soft touches and even softer kisses as the sun continued to rise and the room gradually filled with the golden light of morning. Lorelai found herself melting into Dean's embrace, her earlier fears and doubts temporarily silenced by the comfort of his presence.

She knew there was plenty they should talk about, but instead she leaned into his touch, allowing herself this moment of peace. Dean seemed to understand, because he pulled her closer, tucking her head under his chin. His fingers carded through her hair, the rhythmic motion soothing her frayed nerves.

"You know," Dean said after a while, his voice still rough with sleep, "I really did miss this. Miss you."

Lorelai's breath caught in her throat. "Dean..."

"Shh," he hushed her gently. "I know we've got a lot to figure out. But right now? I'm just glad you're here."

His words, so simple yet so profound, broke something loose inside Lorelai. She found herself clinging to him, her face pressed against his chest as she fought back tears. Dean held her tighter, pressing kisses to the top of her head.

"It's okay," he murmured. "I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."

And for once, Lorelai didn't fight it. She let herself be held, let herself believe, if only for a moment, that everything might actually be okay. The curse still loomed over them, a ticking clock they couldn't ignore. But here, in the soft light of dawn, with Dean's arms around her and his heartbeat steady beneath her ear, Lorelai allowed herself to hope.

They lay like that for what felt like hours, though it was probably only minutes. Dean's hands never stopped their soothing motions, alternating between stroking her hair and tracing patterns on her back. Occasionally, he'd press a soft kiss to her temple or the top of her head, each one a silent reassurance.

As the room grew brighter, the golden light of sunrise giving way to the clear light of morning, Lorelai found herself tilting her head up to look at Dean. His eyes were closed, but she could tell by his breathing that he wasn't asleep. She took a moment to study his face, drinking in the sight of him. The freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, the stubble darkening his jaw, the long lashes that fanned out against his skin - every detail was achingly familiar and yet somehow new.

As if sensing her gaze, Dean's eyes fluttered open. The soft, sleepy smile he gave her made Lorelai's heart skip a beat. Their eyes met and he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It was chaste, almost innocent, but it sent warmth spreading through Lorelai's entire body. When he pulled back, his eyes were sparkling with a mixture of affection and mischief.

"You know," he said, his tone light, "I could get used to waking up like this."

The words were casual, but Lorelai could hear the underlying current of sincerity. It both thrilled and terrified her. "Yeah?" she asked, aiming for nonchalance but missing by a mile.

Dean's expression softened, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Yeah," he said softly. "I mean it, Lor. I know we've got a lot of crap to work through, but... I want this. I want us."

Lorelai felt her breath catch in her throat. She wanted to tell him she felt the same, that she'd never stopped wanting him, even when she was furious with him. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that she hoped conveyed everything she couldn't say.

Dean responded immediately, his hand sliding from her cheek to tangle in her hair. The kiss deepened, slow and languid, neither of them in any rush. When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Dean rested his forehead against hers.

"We're gonna figure this out," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. "The curse, us... all of it. I promise."

Lorelai wanted desperately to believe him. And in that moment, wrapped in his arms with the soft light of morning surrounding them, she almost did. She opened her mouth, ready to say what she wasn't quite sure, but she was saved the trouble when the shrill ring of Dean's phone cut through the peaceful silence. He groaned, burying his face in Lorelai's hair for a moment before reluctantly pulling away to grab his phone from the nightstand.

"Yeah?" he answered, his voice gruff. Lorelai watched as his expression shifted from annoyance to alertness. "Slow down, Sammy. What'd you find?"

Lorelai felt her stomach drop. As much as she'd been enjoying this bubble of peace with Dean, reality was crashing back in. The curse, the ticking clock, the very real possibility that she might not make it out of this alive - it all came rushing back.

Dean's eyes met hers as he listened to Sam, concern and determination warring in his gaze.

"Okay," he said after a moment. "Yeah, we'll be right there."

As he hung up, Lorelai steeled herself. "Sam found something?"

Dean nodded, already sitting up and reaching for his discarded shirt. "Yeah, he thinks he might have a lead on breaking the curse. We should head over there."

Lorelai nodded, pushing down the conflicting emotions swirling inside her. As much as she wanted to stay in this moment with Dean, to pretend for just a little longer that everything was okay, she knew they couldn't. Time was running out, and they had work to do.

As she watched Dean move around the room, gathering their scattered clothes, Lorelai allowed herself one last moment of vulnerability. "Dean?" she called softly.

He turned to her, his eyebrows raised in question. "Yeah?"

Lorelai took a deep breath, willing herself to say the words that had been on the tip of her tongue all morning. But at the last moment, her courage failed her. "Thank you," she said instead. "For being here. For... everything."

Dean's expression softened, and he crossed the room in two quick strides. Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed a fierce kiss to her forehead. "Always," he murmured against her skin. "No matter what happens, I'm here. Okay?"

Lorelai nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. As Dean pulled away to finish getting ready, she took a deep breath, centering herself. They had work to do and it was time to face whatever challenges the day would bring.


I'm back! And thankfully October is almost over! This has been the busiest month, I'm so sorry 😩 I also apologize because this probably needed a bit more editing, but I wanted to get it up.

Thank you all for sticking with me and for all of your feedback! Hope you enjoyed - I did decide to split the chapter one last time, but the last part will be up on Sunday 😊 ❤