May 22nd - June 19th, 2006

In the days following his and Sam's run in with the cannibal hillbillies out in Hibbing, Dean meant to finally suck it up and call Lorelai, finally put things right between them.

He really did.

If nothing else, it would have put a stop to Sam's incessant bitching at him on the subject. His little brother had been enough of a pain in the ass about her after Kinston, but after Hibbing he'd become downright unbearable.

But Dean had really meant to call her after Kinston, too. And just like after Kinston, life made sure to deliver a swift kick in the balls to remind him exactly how fucked his situation was and that he had more important things to worry about than his… well, whatever his situation with Lorelai was.

With the realization that he and Sam had almost gotten their dad killed, that Meg had been right, and they were his one weakness, his own conflicted feelings about pursuing a relationship with Lorelai had returned. There was that fear again, the fear that had come in November after watching his brother lose Jess, that being with Lorelai would put a target on her back. And, even though it felt like a lifetime ago, the conversation he'd had with his dad that morning John had stumbled across him and Lorelai kept playing in his head too.

His dad's warnings, the ones he'd so quickly bit back against, hit a little closer to home now.

What happens when something goes wrong, and you're too distracted trying to protect her to do the job?

This life, Dean… it doesn't leave room for attachments. You know that.

But his own counterarguments swirled in his mind too, in complete conflict and still ringing true too – that having someone to fight for made him better not worse. That Lorelai wasn't a civilian and could handle herself. That he'd rather have her in his life, the danger of it be damned, than push her away because of something that might happen.

It all left him with a distinct lack of clarity. The amount of shit they needed to overcome wasn't helping anything either. Despite feeling like he was starting to, maybe, understand her secrecy better, he was still pissed about all of it, and every time he saw another layer being peeled back there was a weird twisting of the knife that came with it. Some combination of anger, guilt, and resentment paired with curiosity and an eagerness to know more, all of which he didn't know how to make sense of.

Not that there'd been no contact, which he supposed was something. But it certainly wasn't ideal. Nothing like the way they'd talked before.

Ironically, it had started because of the situation in Chicago. He and Sam been trying to figure out what the symbol in the apartment had meant, and Sam had been up his ass about Lorelai earlier that day already. As they were striking out trying to do their own research, Sam brought her up again. He'd wanted Dean to call to see if she recognized it, given the library of knowledge she had available to her that they didn't. And when Dean pushed back, and Sam started in on him again, Dean had finally lost his patience, and in a fit of anger mixed with a determination to prove his brother wrong, that he wasn't afraid to call her, he just didn't want to, Dean had pulled out his phone and dialed.

The conversation had been stilted, but lacking the anger and vitriol that had colored the phone call he'd made to get her out to Hibbing. More awkward and unsure than tense.

Lorelai hadn't known what the symbol was. Sam had left while they were still on the phone to grab something from the car, and Dean had, in a moment of self-doubt, asked her if it had been okay that he'd called.

She'd paused – and really paused… long enough that Dean had been sure the answer was going to be no. But eventually she'd said yes. And then before he could say anything else, she'd hung up.

There'd been occasional texts since then – generally short and to the point. Stilted, like the phone call had been. The most personal had been Lorelai reaching out to make sure he and Sam were okay at the beginning of June – apparently their adventure with the Daeva had been a big enough deal to make it onto MACUSA's radar, though what the criteria something had to meet to matter to those guys, Dean wasn't entirely sure. The most lighthearted and closest to the kind of communication they would have had before was when Dean had reached out to her while he and Sam had been in Texas, sending her a picture of the itching powder he bought before he dumped it in Sam's clothes. He'd remembered the revelation that she apparently helped run a joke shop, and he'd jokingly asked her for her professional opinion. She'd quipped back that it was minor league and suggested he'd appreciate something called Bulbadox Powder.

He made a mental note to ask her about it the next time he saw her. If he ever saw her again. The if was starting to feel more real the more time passed.

As much as life enjoyed reminding him of all the reasons having Lorelai in his life was an added complication, however, it seemed to equally enjoy throwing her back in path whenever he was truly starting to believe they were finished.

It was the middle of the day on a random Monday as Dean approached the doors of Dane County Memorial Hospital, Sam trailing just behind him, semi-freaking out.

"Dude. Dude! I am not using this ID," he whisper-shouted, hastily catching up when Dean ignored him the first time. Dean already knew what was bothering his brother, but he gave him a confused look anyway.

"Why not?"

A bunch of sick kids wasn't the kind of thing that normally caught their attention, and so for all the fake IDs and badges Dean kept on hand, CDC wasn't one of them. It was, however, the best idea they could come up with to get someone to talk to them and dig up more information, which had left him to scramble.

"Because it says bikini inspector on it," Sam complained, looking at Dean as though he were an idiot. Dean tried and failed not to smirk, though he stopped himself from full out laughing.

"Don't worry, she won't look that close, all right?" Dean assured him without slowing his pace. "Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sammy."

Sam opened his mouth to argue further, but Dean grinned and reached out to spin him around, putting Sam face-to-face with the receptionist he was oh so worried about. Dean continued down the hall, finally losing the battle and sniggering to himself as Sam fumbled through his introduction.

The receptionist did ask to see the ID, and despite the seriousness of the situation, Dean barely held it together. He was so engrossed, reveling in his brother's discomfort, that he didn't even notice her show up until her voice cut through the air, putting Sam out of his misery prematurely.

"They're with me, Diane."

At the familiar, yet unexpected sound of Lorelai's voice, Dean's head whipped around so fast he hardly had time to mask the look of surprise he was sure his face had contorted into.

And despite his absolute disbelief, there she stood, framed perfectly by the doorway. She was wearing heels and a dress that cut off at her knees and screamed business-casual in a way Lorelai's typical attire didn't, with loose tendrils of hair framing her face and a pair of black, rectangular-rimmed glasses Dean had never seen before.

"Alright, Dr. Baudelaire."

Dean shared a bewildered look with Sam, but before either of them could say anything, Lorelai was motioning for them to follow, her expression leaving no room for argument.

"Dr. Baudelaire?" Dean asked lowly so only she and Sam could hear as he and Sam fell into step next to her, skepticism underlying his voice. "And what are these?" he added, going to finger the glasses adorning her face. Lorelai, of course, batted his hand away quickly.

"Glasses," she hissed, any hope Dean had for a warm welcome dying quickly as he took note of the clear irritation and impatience in her voice. "What on earth are you two doing here?" she continued on the moment they rounded the corner and were truly clear of the receptionist. Dean felt his own ire flare.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" he shot back, keeping his voice down even as the three of them had to step aside as someone passed by rolling an empty gurney. "If you're here, obviously there's a case."

Never mind that he and Sam still hadn't figured out what that case was. They'd ended up in Fitchburg thanks to coordinates their dad sent. They were at the hospital because the sick kids were the only unusual thing they'd been able to dig up so far, and they didn't have shit to go off of past that. Lorelai glared and out of the corner of his eye, and, in a role reversal from just a minute before, Dean noticed Sam watching them with mild amusement.

"Okay, but there's nothing that should have caught your attention about this one. If it weren't for the fact that one of our department heads has a Squib sister living in town, I wouldn't have known about this one. We're still not even sure it's actually anything… supernatural. Or magical," she snapped back, matching his volume.

"Oh, and because you couldn't have put it together on your own, we couldn't have?"

Dean didn't bother to ask what a Squib was. He wasn't about to volunteer that they hadn't put it together themselves either.

"Seems unlikely," she returned flatly.

They paused in the hallway, glaring at one another, and Dean let out a low whistle.

"Well then. You witches think mighty highly of yourselves, don't you?"

Lorelai arched an eyebrow and looked around before quickly drawing her wand and summoning the card Sam was still holding with a subtle flick of her wrist. She glanced at it before looking between the two of them with an air of superiority that had Dean fighting back a frustrated groan.

"I'm not the one trying to get into the pediatric ward of a hospital with credentials that say Federal Bikini Inspector," she snapped.

"That was all him," Sam immediately dimed him out, trying to suppress a smirk. Dean sent his brother a withering look while Lorelai rolled her eyes and pushed the ID back at Dean's chest.

"You're an idiot," she mumbled before turning on her heel and continuing down the hallway. Sam caught his eye and smiled.

"I like her," he said brightly before following after. Dean glared after the pair of them but begrudgingly followed behind. Lorelai was already pressing the button for the elevator when he reached them.

"How did you know we were here?" Sam asked. Dean wasn't sure if the question or the lack of bite in Sam's voice after their own bickering seconds before threw her off, but she looked at Sam with wide eyes for a moment, seeming confused, before she shook it off.

"I was going over some security footage," she admitted. "Didn't find anything, but I saw you two coming in as I was wrapping up. Figured it would be far too coincidental for all of us to have ended up in the same spot for different reasons."

The elevator dinged open, and the three of them waited for it to clear before stepping on. Lorelai pressed the button for floor three, seeming to know where they were going, and leaned back against the rail lining the wall.

"All the sick kids?" Dean confirmed, and Lorelai hummed, nodding her head as she did.

"You find anything?" Sam followed up. Lorelai seemed to chew her tongue for a minute before ultimately shaking her head, a bitter expression on her face.

"No," she answered, just in time for the elevator to ding and the doors to slide open once more.

Dean followed her and Sam down the hallway, presumably towards the pediatric ward, though he realized belatedly that he and Sam had just assumed she knew where she was taking them. He was keeping up until about a third of the way down one of the patients caught his attention, or rather the scene visible through the open doorway did. The old woman in the wheelchair herself was unremarkable, but the inverted crucifix on her wall gave him pause. He was starting to get a bad feeling about whatever was going on, some dim feeling of déjà vu that he was still having trouble putting a finger on.

"Dean!"

The sound of Sam's voice, now a few feet away, startled Dean out of his thoughts and he turned to find his brother and Lorelai both standing waiting for him. Sam had a look of impatience on his face while Lorelai looked confused, if not a little irritated.

"Sorry," he mumbled, quickening his pace to rejoin them.

"So what's your angle been?" Sam was asking, falling back into step beside Lorelai, Dean just behind them.

"Oh, same as yours I imagine. Came in as CDC. Been working with a Dr. Hydecker. He's fucking useless, but he doesn't realize that obviously."

Dean tried not to feel too resentful that, while she'd been short and irritated with him, she was being perfectly mild and pleasant with Sam.

"MACUSA got an arrangement with our hospitals too?" he grumbled, and Lorelai looked back over her shoulder, clearly having picked up on his tone.

"No. But posing as a doctor isn't all that much of a stretch. Besides, you were about to do it, weren't you?"

Dean didn't have a chance to retort before they were rounding a corner and they found themselves in a much busier part of the ward. Lorelai suddenly tensed, a look coming over her face that Dean wasn't sure how to decipher.

"When did you get here?" Sam asked.

"Oh, um, earlier yesterday," Lorelai answered distractedly leading them towards one of the rooms. Dean was about to ask her what was going on, when a voice called out from inside the door Lorelai had paused near.

"There you are! I was just about to come looking for you."

For a brief moment, Lorelai scrunched her eyes shut, and Dean had seen that face enough times to know a silent string of curses was flowing through her mind. What he wasn't sure was why, and when a woman that looked to be about their age with dirty blonde hair appeared at Lorelai's shoulder, bright eyed and wearing a white lab coat, Dean only had more questions and no answers.

The woman clocked him and Sam immediately, her own expression growing curious as her eyes flitted between them before ultimately landing on Lorelai, who forced herself to exhale and put on a smile Dean could tell from a mile away was forced.

"Sorry, ran into some… friends… on my way back," Lorelai said carefully. "Liv, this is Sam and Dean Winchester. Boys, this is my friend, Olivia Sweeney. She's helping me out with this one."

The woman's eyes lit up at the mention of Dean's name, almost as if Christmas had come early, and for Dean the pieces suddenly clicked into place. He'd heard that name before, and upon realizing who he was being introduced to, Dean was torn between his own bout of nerves and amusement at Lorelai's clear unease.

Dean had never met Olivia Sweeney, but he was fully aware that she was, for all intents and purposes, Lorelai's best friend. Or at least, Lorelai's best girlfriend. Quite possibly her only girlfriend outside of her family, as far as Dean knew. When he and Lorelai had been together, Olivia's name had come up frequently whenever Lorelai had been in New York, and by Lorelai's own admission, the girls were closer than Lorelai had ever been with either of her actual sisters. And if he knew about Olivia, he could only imagine what Olivia knew about him. He'd bet the contents of his wallet it was more than anything he'd deem comfortable.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you," Olivia gushed immediately, shaking both his and Sam's hands, though Dean noticed her eyes were mostly darting between him and Lorelai.

"You too," Dean returned, his own discomfort already starting to overshadow his amusement.

"I think we may have actually met," Sam said slowly, trailing off, but Lorelai was already nodding. Dean couldn't help but notice the eager expression on her face.

"Yes! Olivia and I used to be roommates."

The reminder of their shared past, however brief, seemed to distract Olivia for a moment, and she turned her head to study Sam, her brow furrowed until it eventually smoothed back out, her eyes widening in recognition.

"Right! Lorelai told me about that fun coincidence, you and Dean being brothers – talk about small worlds. I remember you though – God you were so much shorter then. And you had just gotten Katie from your da – from Jack, and we were still sharing that crap apartment by Lytton, weren't we?" she asked, turning back to Lorelai. Dean noticed the way Lorelai tensed, almost imperceptibly, before she smoothed her face back into a smile, nodding.

"Mmmhmm."

"Are you an Auror too?" Dean asked lowly, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "I thought Lor said you were a doctor."

He immediately regretted the question, as Olivia's eyes swiveled back to him, her previous curiosity reignited and a knowing smile forming on her face that didn't bode well at all. A flush was already beginning to spread across Lorelai's face, and Dean was fairly certain she hadn't even been this anxious introducing him to her family.

"No, not an Auror. Lorelai's the adventurous one of the group… to a fault," she added with a pointed look in her friend's direction, to which Lorelai rolled her eyes. But Olivia continued on before Lorelai could put voice to any kind of retort. "I'm a Healer, which is basically like a doctor. And you two, from what I understand, are hunters. Lorelai says you're good too – which is high praise, coming from her. She doesn't think anyone's –"

But Lorelai elbowed Olivia before her friend could finish speaking, and Dean found himself holding back laughter. He was less successful with the smirk.

"Singing my praises, Lor?" he teased, and Lorelai scoffed.

"In your dreams, maybe. I think we've got more important things to talk about though, like how you two ended up out here. You never did answer my question."

Dean shared a look with Sam, and though he still wanted to stick it to her, Sam was answering before Dean could do anything about it. Damn Sam and his need for honesty.

"Our dad sent us the coordinates, which is his cryptic way of saying there's a job. This was the only thing out of the ordinary we could find."

"When did you two get here?" Dean asked. The last thing he was about to do was let Lorelai think she could pull some kind of rank. Lorelai cocked an eyebrow, but it was Olivia who spoke up.

"Yesterday afternoon. We were still trying to figure out if whatever we're dealing with is more Lorelai's territory or mine."

"Well, what do you have so far?"

"Not a lot," Lorelai admitted after a moment's hesitation, and Dean wondered if she'd have been willing to answer if he'd asked instead of Sam. "Olivia treated all the kids and their symptoms yesterday."

"But they all regressed and then worsened overnight. They're all unconscious," Olivia added, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice for the first time since they arrived.

"Liv still hasn't been able to diagnose anything, and the doctors know even less."

"Either of you ever seen anything before?" Dean asked, though he could already guess the answer from their demeanors alone.

"No. Ezra hasn't either, and neither have any of Liv's coworkers."

"Whatever's infecting them isn't… isn't magical in nature, as far as I can tell" Olivia said, lowering her voice so that Dean and Sam had to strain slightly to hear. "So it makes no sense why it's being so stubborn against treatment. It's like their bodies are just, I don't know, wearing out. It's completely bizarre."

"The pattern's weird too," Lorelai added reluctantly, chewing her lip. "Six kids in the past five weeks. Works through siblings, before moving onto a new family. None of the adults in the homes have fallen ill though. I'm thinking something… external… might be causing it. But fuck if I know what. Doesn't fit the bill for any creatures I know of… not that that's an exhaustive list, but…"

"It's close," Olivia scoffed, and Lorelai rolled her eyes.

"Don't start."

"I take it you didn't find anything in the footage?"

A bitter look crossed Lorelai's face at Olivia's question, one that wasn't aimed at him, and Dean couldn't help but be slightly fascinated watching the two women interact. There was an ease between them that was a testament to the depth of their relationship – which made sense; he remembered Lorelai mentioning they'd known one another since they were children. Lorelai was so drawn into their rhythm that she even seemed to forget her irritation with him, at least temporarily. It sparked something in him that he didn't want to name, getting a glimpse at the woman she was behind those walls she clung to so desperately – the same woman that he'd fallen so hard for in the beginning.

"No," Lorelai complained. "Complete waste of time and now I just need more coffee. Did you get anywhere?"

"No," Olivia sighed. "I did what I could, but I'm sure I'll be back doing the same thing tomorrow. I certainly didn't come up with any new ideas. I've got to go check out the girl they just admitted though."

"They just brought someone in?"

Olivia and Lorelai both seemed to have forgotten that Sam and Dean were there, but at the question their heads swiveled back to the boys, and Dean noted the way that Lorelai frowned, biting her bottom lip and seemingly back to warring with herself. Olivia had no such reservations and nodded.

"Yeah, little girl, this morning. I saw her first thing, but I need to go back and follow up."

"And I still need to talk to at least one of the parents," Lorelai sighed. "Maybe they'll have something different to say than the others."

"We'll come," Sam volunteered. Something akin to discomfort flickered over Lorelai's face, but Olivia was smiling brightly.

"Perfect! Can't hurt to get some new eyes and ears."

Lorelai shot daggers in Olivia's direction, but then turned to Dean as if to appeal.

"Oh, no, c'mon. This is a horrible idea," she stated plainly, and Dean blinked back in surprise. He couldn't say he was feeling all that great about the situation himself, but he hadn't expected Lorelai to actually say anything. In hindsight, however, he realized that was rather foolish. He'd never known her to have much of a filter. She was guarded as hell, but she didn't mince words.

Still, there was something about it that got under his skin. Sure, they had some shit to work out… okay, a lot of shit to work out… but they'd still managed to work two cases together, successfully, since May. The hell was so awful about him that she couldn't handle working together again?

It was the same part of him that had taken pleasure in her initial discomfort introducing him to Olivia that took the reins in that moment and had him smirking back at her, eyebrow raised challengingly. She didn't want to work with him? Fine, but he'd make damn sure she knew she was the one with a problem, not him. He wasn't going to be the one to say uncle.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he quipped back. "Worried Sammy and I are gonna upstage you?"

If she'd glared daggers at Olivia, it was nothing to the look she sent him. He was pretty sure he'd have been six feet under if looks alone could have killed. He stared back, taking care not to let his own smirk slip, and after a moment she threw her hands up in exasperation, spinning on her heel and already moving down the hall.

"Just don't get in my way," she complained without turning around. Olivia looked at them almost apologetically, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her, before she hurried after Lorelai, leaving Dean and Sam standing there. Dean chanced a glance at his brother, his own façade slipping now that Lorelai was gone, and immediately rolled his eyes when he noticed the smug expression Sam was wearing.

"So," he began, "think maybe it might be time to –"

"Shut it, Sam," Dean cut him off. They'd already had this argument more times than he wanted to think about. He'd talk to Lorelai when they were both ready, not when Sam told him to. Without waiting for any more badgering, he started after the girls, already wondering if he'd regret it.

"I'm sorry, we don't serve anything with caffeine here."

It was later that night, and Dean found him sitting around a table with Sam, Lorelai, and Olivia at a local place Olivia had picked. Lorelai looked back at the waiter blankly.

"And you think that's safe?" she asked without missing a beat. Despite his own rather sour mood, Dean had to stifle a laugh at the man's expression – a mix of confusion and horror.

"Pardon?"

"She'll take a water," Olivia quickly stepped in, and from way Lorelai winced, Dean strongly suspected Olivia had stomped on her foot under the table. The waiter seemed relieved and quickly scurried off with their drink orders, leaving the four of them alone once more. Lorelai wasted no time in shooting Olivia an accusatory look.

"You did this on purpose."

Olivia rolled her eyes and Dean found himself watching on in interest.

"Don't be so dramatic," she said over her menu. Lorelai's eyes narrowed into a glare Dean was well acquainted with.

"You're getting to be as bad as Nick," she complained, grabbing her own menu, but at that, Olivia turned back to Lorelai with raised eyebrows.

"And you're out of control. You've had at least six cups today, and I can't take another night of hearing you pacing around the kitchen like a crazy person instead of sleeping."

Lorelai grumbled something incoherently, continuing to busy herself with the menu while pointedly avoiding looking at him or Sam. Olivia, however, smiled brightly and looked between them.

"So," she began, clearly trying to steer the conversation to safer waters, "Lorelai said you figured out what we're working with?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably, his amusement falling away as Sam's attention turned onto him too.

The interview with the patient's father hadn't revealed much, but the follow-up visit to the little girls' home he, Sam, and Lorelai had made ended up being more productive. Dean had finally been able to put his finger on why the case felt so damn familiar, but it hadn't made him feel any better.

"Uh, yeah…" he said, thinking back to the rotted wood in the shape of a handprint. "It's a striga."

"And what the hell is a striga?" Sam asked, even as Olivia frowned thoughtfully. Dean gathered she hadn't heard of one either, which wasn't surprising given that he'd received blank stares from both Lorelai and Sam when he'd initially made the connection.

"It's… kinda like a witch I think," he said, immediately regretting his words when Lorelai leveled a glare in his direction. "I don't know much about 'em."

That was a lie, but none of them needed to know that. He didn't know enough to offer anything more… and he didn't want to go off half-cocked on this one.

"You might want to reconsider what you're calling 'witch'," Lorelai said quietly and Dean caught her eye, sending her an apologetic look.

"Old habits," he muttered. Lorelai rolled her eyes and went back to her menu, though Dean could tell she was still listening. She didn't seem quite as fiery as she had earlier in the day, even if she was still stiff. Progress, he thought. Small progress, but still progress. He'd take it – it was the biggest win he'd had all day.

"So, it's some sort of, what? Monster? Creature? Hurting the kids?" Olivia prompted, and Dean nodded.

"I've never heard of it," Sam repeated his earlier words for Olivia's benefit, "and it's not in Dad's journal," he added, looking to Dean. The question, though unasked, was clear to Dean, but he chose to ignore it.

"I haven't either," Lorelai chimed in, finally putting the menu down and sitting up straighter. Dean watched her take a breath and was surprised when she turned to him after. It was the first time since he and Sam had arrived that her irritation with him seemed to truly fade into the background. "I have some ideas of where I can look though. You said your dad hunted one before?"

Dean nodded quickly, eager to take the olive branch she was offering.

"Yeah. About sixteen, seventeen years ago. Fort Douglas, Wisconsin." Lorelai hummed, and Dean felt more than saw the analytical stare Sam was fixing him with.

"A name at least gives me something to ask my colleagues about," Olivia sighed. "Can't say we covered anything in school about striga, but maybe someone at the hospital's run into something like this before."

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but before he got the chance their waiter was back, passing out drinks before pulling out a pad and pen to take their orders. Dean quickly grabbed his menu back up, eyes scanning it as quickly as they could when he realized he'd forgotten to actually look. It didn't take long for him to realize that as amusing as Lorelai's frustration with Olivia's choice of venue had been, he was equally dissatisfied.

In addition to no caffeine, he saw no grease and no booze.

Sam was unbothered – happy even – and Olivia was equally at ease. Dean caught Lorelai's eye, however, as he passed his menu back, and leaned in conspiratorially.

"I saw a Mexican joint two blocks over on our way here. We're a little far north for it to be good but I'm game for a pit stop after this if you are."

Lorelai grinned, actually grinned, at him, and Dean felt his heart flutter.

"Only if you're buying and there's tequila," she quipped back quietly, careful not to draw Olivia's attention. Dean snorted.

"Oh sweetheart, you're on."

Discussion of the actual case gradually fell off – without doing research no one had much to offer to the conversation, and the place was getting busy enough to make it uncomfortable to talk about without risking someone overhearing. There was a certain amount of relief in that for Dean, though he knew it was only a temporary delay of the inevitable.

There was no question in his mind of why his dad had sent him the coordinates – it may have been a cryptic message to Sam, but Dean was reading it loud and clear.

Clean up your mess. This is your fault.

Sam certainly sensed there was more going on in his mind than Dean was talking about if the furtive glances he was shooting in Dean's direction were any indication, but he also at least seemed to have better sense than to push the issue in front of Lorelai and Olivia. For that, Dean was grateful.

The real trouble didn't start until things were winding down, and the four of them began discussing their next moves.

"Where are you two staying?" Lorelai asked, grabbing for her glass of water. "I need to pop back to MACUSA for a few books, but it won't take me long."

"We haven't checked in anywhere yet," Dean told her.

"I think I saw a motel not far from the hospital," Sam spoke up. "We could get settled in there and –"

But Sam never finished his sentence, because Olivia was almost immediately cutting across him, with that gleam in her eyes again that Dean was beginning to recognize as dangerous.

"Oh, but that's so silly!" she exclaimed. "Lorelai and I already have a rental – St. Fern's put us up, and it has plenty of space. You two should just crash with us."

Dean's stomach dropped, and Lorelai looked like she'd swallowed glass.

"Olivia," Lorelai hissed, but Olivia blinked back with faux innocence.

"What?" she asked. "We have all that space, it's stupid for them to spend the money. And I don't think any of you plan on dropping the case, so if the four of us are going to work this together, it makes the most sense. Easier than being in two different places."

"Oh, that's alright," Dean jumped in, trying to sound nonchalant, though he wasn't sure how successful the attempt was. "Sam and I are fine with the motel."

Pressing Lorelai's buttons was fun and all, but even he could see the dangers of what Olivia was suggesting. Of course, he had his own troublesome counterpart to contend with.

"Seriously?" Sam scoffed. "Dude, you're the first one to complain about spending money we don't have to. I'll bet their place doesn't even smell like stale cigarettes or have any water stains."

"It doesn't," Olivia confirmed quickly, her voice bright with barely contained enthusiasm. Dean wanted to groan – he knew a lost cause when he saw one, and he could tell Lorelai did too. "We've even got a kitchen and a balcony. Super comfy beds. It's great."

There was no logical counterargument to be made, not unless he or Lorelai wanted to openly acknowledge they were too uncomfortable to be stuck in such close proximity, and Dean tried to ignore the pit that formed in his stomach while he and Sam led Olivia out to the Impala a few minutes later. Lorelai had ducked out to get whatever books she was looking for, telling them she'd meet them back at the rental.

"I know she's a little rough around the edges, but she's soft with a heart of gold under all of it," Olivia said after Lorelai had left. "She's just not good at showing it. Guess I don't need to tell you, though," she added when Dean snorted.

"I think I had that figured out by our second date," he returned dryly. It was only when he caught that Sam's ears had perked up that he realized what he'd said and felt heat creeping up his neck. Olivia, however, smiled fondly.

The drive to the rental – which turned out to be a small condo – was uneventful. Olivia whistled when she saw the Impala, but didn't say much more, quickly and mercifully switching gears to focus on directing Dean rather than trying to carry on any kind of real conversation. And when they got inside, she quickly excused herself to go get one of the two bedrooms set up for them.

It was as they settled in at the kitchen table to research that Sam finally laid into Dean, looking over his shoulder as he pulled out his laptop.

"Dude, what aren't you telling me?" he asked.

"What are you talking about, Sam?" Dean shot back, even though he knew full well what wasn't sitting right with his brother. The look Sam gave him let him know Sam wasn't buying the innocent act.

"Dean, c'mon. There's gotta be more to the story than what you're telling us, and if there's something you don't want to say in front of the girls, fine, but I'm not that stupid. You want me to buy that Dad went after this thing before, even though there's no mention of it in his journal, and that somehow the thing's still breathing?"

Guilt started to bubble up again, but rather than let it out, Dean felt his hackles rising, and he shrugged.

"I don't know what to tell you, man, I guess Dad didn't have his Wheaties that morning. You were there, it's not my fault you don't remember. And I was just a kid, alright? We're lucky I remember the damn thing's name."

Sam stared back, unconvinced, but sighed after a moment and went back to unpacking the laptop. Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Yeah, well I guess that's better than nothing. Maybe Lorelai'll have something in one of those books she's grabbing."

"Yeah, maybe," Dean agreed, happy for the shift in subject, though he would have been happier if it had shifted to anything that didn't include his ex-girlfriend. But, of course, she was wrapped up in it now and Sam wasn't about to let it die that easily. Not after he'd been holding it in all afternoon.

"I take it you two still haven't talked."

"We talk just fine," Dean grumbled, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. "What're you, Dr. Phil?"

Sam raised his hands placatingly.

"I'm just saying –"

But Dean was spared from whatever Sam was 'just saying' by the distinct CRACK that came from one of the bedrooms down the hall.

"You did that on purpose!"

Lorelai's laughter echoing throughout the condo let Dean know that she'd absolutely done whatever Olivia was accusing her of.

The witch herself appeared about 30 seconds later, a self-satisfied smirk on her face, while a slightly grumpy Olivia trailed behind her. She had the same black bag she'd had in both Kinston and Hibbing slung over her shoulder, and she looked between Sam and Dean brightly.

"Ready?" she asked, eyeing Sam's set up while she dropped her own bag onto the table.

With Sam on his laptop, Dean found himself trying to help go through the stack of books Lorelai ended up pulling out, but Dean wasn't sure how much of a help he actually was. It was dense reading, with references to a bunch of crap Dean didn't know dick about, and his head wasn't really in it anyway.

It was after maybe an hour that Olivia seemed to realize as much, catching his eye as she came back in from taking a call.

"I've got yours and Sam's room all ready if you want to see where you'll be staying and get situated," she offered. The idea of being on his own with Lorelai's less-than-subtle best friend wasn't particularly appealing but casting around he couldn't think of a good reason to say no, and he was admittedly tired of sitting there.

Neither Sam nor Lorelai looked when he pushed up from the table, both so focused he wasn't sure either of them had even registered the exchange, and Dean followed Olivia deeper into the condo.

Olivia hadn't been lying when she'd said the place was nice – nothing fancy like the place Lorelai's family had rented the last summer, but homey and clean… on par with the cabin Lorelai had been renting when he'd first met her. The room, however, took him by surprise.

"You weren't kidding when you said you guys had the space," he whistled, taking in the scene. It could have been a complete hotel room if it had a bathroom, complete with two queen-sized beds, four nightstands, two dressers, and still plenty of space to move around. There was even a TV that looked like it was from this century. Olivia shrugged and hovered inside the door while Dean ventured in.

"I may have modified it a bit, but it was simple enough and I'll put it back before we leave."

It only took him a few seconds to realize she meant she'd used magic, and he was proud of himself for managing a simple nod without his face giving away any kind of reaction – at least, he didn't think it had.

"That's great. Thanks, uh, for lettin' us crash. This is real nice of you and Lor." Though, Dean realized, if Lorelai had actually had a say, he and Sam probably would have been getting a motel room. Olivia, however, waved a dismissive hand, vague smile still on her face.

"No need to thank us, it's really no big deal."

"Yeah, well, Sam and I appreciate it."

There was a beat of silence during which Dean threw his duffel onto one of the two beds and Olivia seemed to be studying him.

"How are you doing?" she finally asked. "With all of this, I mean," she added at Dean's confused stare, gesturing to the magically modified room. "Lorelai grew up in a magical family, so I know she doesn't always get what a shock it is… but we didn't know I was a witch until I was eleven. I know it can be… a lot to wrap your head around."

For how Olivia had been so far, Dean had been expecting the third degree about him and Lorelai, and the question caught him off guard. He could tell from the expression on the woman's face that, despite not really knowing him, she was asking with genuine sincerity and concern.

"That's one way of putting it," he snorted before he could think better of it. To his relief, Olivia looked amused rather than offended. "That must've been quite the shock for you."

"It was," Olivia agreed carefully, "though I think it was always more of a shock to my dad. It was just me and him growing up… and my nanny, but we never told her after we found out. Anyway, for me it was almost a relief, understanding why I was a little different from the other kids or why unexplainable things seemed to happen around me when I was really emotional. For my dad it was different… it was a complication… something he had to figure out how to process."

Dean felt something churn in his stomach remembering Marietta Kedward's story, and how her parents had "handled" her magic. He remembered his own reaction to Lorelai and felt worse.

"Did he?" Dean asked. "Find a way to process it? Your dad, I mean."

"He did. The liaison that came from Lytton to talk to us was a big help, and so were the books."

Dean nodded and found himself digging through his bag without even consciously deciding to. A moment later he was pulling out the ones Bobby had given him, dropping them on the bed.

"Yeah. I got these from a friend… they, uh… they were a help, like you said. Drove home what Lorelai was saying, about it not being what Sam and I grew up thinking witchcraft was."

Something had caught Olivia's eye, though, and she walked further into the room, coming to stand next to Dean while her fingers ran over the spins of the books. Her hand caught on one - America's History of Wizards and the Non-Magical Community – and her eyes widened just enough for Dean to catch it.

"Did you… did you read this one?"

It suddenly clicked why Olivia had latched onto that book, and Dean scratched at the back of his neck, suddenly feeling uncomfortable again. It was the book that had the section about the war Lorelai had fought in. He hadn't even had a chance to talk to Lorelai about this stuff… though admittedly there was something a little easier about this.

"Yeah," he finally answered, and Olivia let out a low whistle. "A while ago actually. Lor and I haven't talked about it."

"Oh, she's going to hate this," Olivia said, more to herself than to Dean, and he caught that she seemed almost gleeful.

"Is everything in there true?" he asked before he could stop himself. The question seemed to break Olivia from her train of thought, and she tore her gaze away from the book to look back at him. There was half a moment's hesitation before her face softened and she nodded.

"I only read those chapters when they first came out, so I'm a little fuzzy on what they actually included, but yeah, they got the broad strokes right. Lorelai was over there when everything started up, and between how connected she was to people at the center of it all, and her inability to let wrongs go unchecked, I think her involvement was inevitable. She got herself on the Death Eater's radar pretty quickly, faked her death to protect all of us when she realized she was going to be hunted… and she fought. All of the Baudelaires did, actually. Except for Mary… but that's a different story. And it's probably not my place to fill in the gaps."

Dean nodded, unconsciously glancing towards the door. It was yet another thing on the never-ending list of things that he needed to talk to Lorelai about.

The rest of the night passed by slowly. His attention was only more divided after his conversation with Olivia, and it ended up being early when he decided to call it a night. And despite the room being nicer than most of the places he and Sam frequented, despite the bed being comfortable, Dean found that the only sleep he was able to get was restless. It was for that reason that he noticed when Sam started his own tossing and turning, and it didn't take long for Dean to realize his brother was having another nightmare.

Rubbing a hand down his face, Dean pushed himself into a seated position and looked across the room. It was only dimly lit by the faint moonlight coming in through the window, but he could still make out Sam's form in the other bed. It had been a while since he'd seen Sam like this, and he wondered if the nightmares after Jess had ever really stopped or if he had just stopped waking up when they happened. Then, of course, there was the other option., that Sam was having another one of those nightmares… the freaky vision nightmares that they still didn't totally understand.

Without dwelling too much, Dean grabbed one of the extra pillows and chucked it in the direction of Sam's face. It hit its mark and the effect was immediate – Sam blinked back awake bleary-eyed and confused, looking around the dark room until his eyes finally landed on Dean.

"Wasgoinon?" he mumbled, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"You were havin' another nightmare." Sam groaned and flopped back into his pillows. "Dude, enough is enough. We've gotta talk about this."

"We don't actually," Sam grumbled, but Dean ignored him.

"Was it about Jess, or was it another one of your –"

"It wasn't a vision," Sam admitted, but he deliberately left the mention of Jess alone, and Dean let the silence settle over them for a moment. "There's nothing to talk about."

"That's ironic, coming from you," Dean pointed out, but in a true testament to how miserable Sam was, his brother didn't give any kind of reaction. "Sammy, c'mon, you can't keep goin' like this."

"I'm fine, Dean. It's not an all the time thing anymore, just a bad night."

There was something in the way Sam said it that left Dean completely unconvinced, but he wasn't sure what he could really do. He had no great words of wisdom… no way to fix the pain his brother was dealing with… just concern and the knowledge that status quo was no good.

"Dude, you gotta talk to someone about this. I'm not sayin' it's gotta be me, but you can't keep shouldering this on your own, man. It's not good for you. And it's not what Jess would've wanted."

Even in the dark, Dean was able to see the flash of anger that passed over Sam's face.

"You don't know anything about what Jess would've wanted for me."

Realizing that he wasn't going to get anywhere, Dean sighed and settled back into his own pillows, willing his mind to quiet back down with no success. He could tell from the sounds of Sam's breathing that he wasn't the only one having difficulty.

It was as Dean finally felt his own eyelids growing heavy again that he let loose the last thought drifting through his head… one that a year ago he may not have had, but one that he knew now with certainty he could stand behind.

"I may not have known Jess, Sam, but if she loved you… she wouldn't have wanted this for you."

And with that, Dean let himself drift once more back into his own restless and uneasy sleep, hoping the next day would be better.

As always, thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! ❤

For anyone that celebrates, Happy Thanksgiving! I actually had a last minute change of plans myself and will be travelling, so the next chapter will be up on 12/8 instead of 12/1.