Be The Young | Supernatural Fanfiction by Emily

Book 1 - Seventeen

Can't we be seventeen?
That's all I want to do
If you could let me in
I could be good with you

Overture

On November the 17th, 2002, somewhere in Portland, Emily Reed shut her AP chem notebook and stretched her arms up. She paused the music on her Walkman and heard her mom talking with the adoption center on the phone. She couldn’t wait to meet her brother or her sister. It was exciting, welcoming a new life into her family and also helping someone in need. Or at least, that’s what her mother had always said. She looked at the teddy bear shaped clock on her pink shelf. Time to head to ballet class. She had class from three to six, then rehearsals until nine. They were doing Swan Lake, and she’d been chosen for the role of Odette and Odile. She also had to sew a pair of shoes, because hers were dead and she couldn’t risk an injury.

She wasn’t a regular 12-year-old, by any means. Her mother and her teachers said she’d exceeded expectations in every aspect of her life. Astounding in school, talented in ballet and theater, somehow balanced those two things with a decent enough social life. She was four years ahead in school, a goal no one had ever reached - at least as far as she had read in books and novels. The other sophomores treated her like a little sister. Protect her from bullies, drove her to school, invited her to the dance and went to see her ballet performances, always bothering everybody else who had the bad luck of sitting in the theater that night.

Emily packed her black leotard, her pink tights - standard academic uniform - and a new pair of pointe shoes, kissed her mom on the cheek and sprinted to catch the bus. The second she sat down, she opened her dance bag and got to work sewing her shoes. It was a long ride from Rivergrove to Oregon Ballet Theater, which gave Emily plenty of time to daydream.

She wondered as she darned the point of the shoe if all those sewing skills would help her be a better surgeon. People, boys in particular, would go their entire lives without ever sewing anything, so coming into med school already knowing how to do a variety of stitches must have been a good advantage in order to become the youngest surgeon of her century. Having perfectly sewn shoes and being the youngest Odette her school had ever cast would have been incredible on a resume as a ballet dancer, though. Junior year was approaching, and after junior year came senior year, and by then - she should have already decided what to do with her life.

Performing arts or medicine? That was her biggest worry. It was going to change the course of her entire life. Job security or her lifelong dream of being a ballerina? Two parallel, never-touching roads. And Emily had to pick one. It was all she could think about some nights. It was her only worry, except whether she was going to get a role in that year’s production of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Emily got off the bus at 14:10 sharp, like every other day, and sat down on a bench right by the Willamette to wait for her fellow dancers. She had no idea that her name was important in a certain department of the universe. The people who deemed her so important had big plans for her. These plans wouldn’t have started for at least one more year.

In July of 2002, Dean Winchester was spending his first ever summer without his brother Sam since he was three. His father, John, didn’t care that it was summer. It was actually better, because it meant Dean didn’t have to study for his GED, so he had more time for hunting and looking for the thing that killed Mary. Mary was Dean’s mom, and John - his father - talked about her like a literal angel. She used to be sweet and compassionate. The perfect mom, the perfect wife, but Dean remembered how much they used to fight. Their marriage was never perfect until after she was dead. He’d had just turned twenty-three and John had finally agreed to let him hunt alone, and that meant he could spend the night taking a shot at every single man and woman in the bar. He wasn’t going back to the motel by himself: he needed company. With Sam gone, he felt a looming sense of emptiness, almost like something had been taken away from him and he wasn’t quite sure on how to fill it. The best way he’d found was getting blackout drunk, popping a couple of pain meds and finding a hook up. Or two, the night was long. A good thing about being alone was that he didn’t have to stick to girls just to keep John at bay.

Dean had been a hunter his entire life. He’d never heard of Emily, or seen a ballet performance. A very specific department of the universe had been working his case for a long time, working to ensure he would be exactly where they wanted him when the time came.

On Friday the 17th, 2002, somewhere in Michigan, more than two thousand miles away from Emily, a seemingly unimportant boy was about to finish his piano practice. He was sitting at his desk, bent over his portable keyboard, earphones in his ears, listening to Odette’s solo for the fiftieth time that night alone. He didn’t like Tchaikovsky, but what eight year old does?

He was a normal, ambitious boy attending third grade. At that moment in time, his biggest ambition was beating Jason Dean at chess in the spring tournament and winning the annual spelling bee his school held. Also, finishing his piano practice. He didn't do sports, but he was still a brilliant student. Not so that he would skip grades, but good enough for his mother to hope he would go to Harvard, or Princeton. The boy didn’t understand why she made such a fuss about his grades. Mark, Jason Dean’s brother’s best friend’s cousin, was an adult (he had a car and everyone knows you get a car when you’re an adult) and he said grades don’t matter at all. But still his mother insisted - he had to get good grades. For his future.

The boy looked at the Gameboy Color he had borrowed from Johnatan. He remembered he still had to finish Pokémon Crystal and suddenly lost all interest in Tchaikovsky and his stupid swans. Swans were a girls thing anyway. He reached for the Gameboy and turned it on, careful not to be heard from his mom.

Just like Emily, the boy's name was also known in a certain side of the universe, but that wouldn't be relevant to his life for a decade more.

Act I

What is this feeling?

From Wicked

Halloween, 2005.

Dean parked in front of an apartment complex. The street was dark, a veil of fog wrapping the area, and humidity so thick Emily’s hands somehow felt wet. She didn’t bother saying anything, just looked up from her book and rolled her eyes. Of course it was a half decent place. There were no prostitutes, no weird men looking at her, nobody was doing drugs in a corner. Dean usually got out of the car in a rush after parking, but not that time. She’d planned on keeping reading her book while Dean handled his ‘situation’, so when he stayed in the car a second too long, she looked back up from her book, a complaint already coming out of her mouth.

In the previous years, she’d come to learn that Dean was anything but ordinary. Not in a good way. He was obsessed with his ‘mission’ of avenging his mom and his attitude with anything that moved and could have offered him intercourse was just disgusting. But she tolerated him. She had to. He and John were the only thing separating her from CPS and foster families. However, since the moment she’d met him, Dean had built a habit of acting like a jerk to her, and she’d taken a habit of being insufferable in return. She might have been small and nice looking, but she knew how to stand up to bullies. She’d been four years ahead in school, she could figure out that much. The complaint went unnoticed as Dean stared out the window and didn’t say a-single-fucking-word. After a few minutes, Emily just went back to tolerating him in silence and to her book.

Four hours. That’s how long Dean took to get out of the car. Four infinite hours to get in the building. Emily finished her book and slammed it close, annoyed. The sound awakened Dean, who pushed the car door open and stood outside. Well, thought Emily, all this to go talk to his brother? In theory, their brother. If Dean was her half brother, Sam had to be, too. What was the big deal with Sam, anyway? He was just another Winchester. One would think two would be more than enough, but no. Sam was The-One-Who-Made-It-Out. John Winchester’s pride and Dean Winchester’s sole friend. Which was understandable, since he was insufferable to anybody else. Especially to Emily.

Dean didn’t like chick flicks - he made that clear from the very beginning: every romance scene in a movie was time wasted, and people talking about their feelings was usually regarded as something for gay people. Of course, ‘gay’ was not the word Dean’d used, although those remarks were exhilarating to Emily, for two reasons: First, Dean was definitely gay. He could hide it as much as he wanted, but Emily witnessed him make out with a male bartender. And second, he didn’t like chick flicks, but he sure had liked bitching and moaning about his little brother being gone for the previous two years. He sure liked waiting outside of buildings for four hours. Emily pulled the door handle and stepped out of the Impala to smoke. Dean turned towards her for the first time since he’d parked the car and widened his eyes. Emily figured he’d forgotten she was there. She did her best to ignore him and leaned on the car on the opposite side from Dean, so as not to hear him complain about the smell.

“Alright, I’m gonna go in,” he announced. To whom, Emily didn’t know. She wasn’t listening. She didn’t care what he did or where he went. He walked around the car and when he passed in front of her, he grabbed the cigarette and threw it to the ground.

“Hey!” she complained as Dean stepped over the cigarette.

“Wait here,” he said. Emily scoffed. She didn’t have to be told twice. The last thing she needed was spending time with Sam, The Golden Boy. Him and his amazing monster-free life at Stanford were ruining her life. Why did they need him anyway? Emily could figure out what happened to John. He was dead. But no, Dean would not accept that as an answer. In fact, she’d already almost gotten slapped over it. Twice. She could have figured herself in advance that stating the obvious was regarded as taking it too far by Dean Winchester.

Emily didn’t care what he thought, or what happened to John. She just had to stick with them for four more years. Then she’d be eighteen and she’d leave. Get back to her life. Go to Stanford. Exactly where Sam, The Golden Boy, went. No, actually, she’d go to an even better school. She was going to Harvard. She’d be a non-korean, non-brunette Cristina Yang from Grey’s Anatomy. First of her class, hungry for surgery, hungry for success, youngest surgeon ever. Emily lit up another cigarette, then went to sit inside. If Dean didn’t see her, he couldn’t complain. She could open the windows and the smell wouldn't even permeate the seats. She pulled the door handle, but nothing happened. There was no way that Dean had locked her out, right? It was fifty fucking degrees and she was wearing a sweater under overalls. She tried pulling harder, and the door opened, hitting her thigh and making her drop the cigarette again. Emily bit the inside of her cheek. Her mother had thought her better than to curse. Stupid freaking piece of crap car. Whatever happened to John Winchester must have been repayment for buying such a stupid car and having such a stupid son who couldn’t even pretend to care about Emily’s wellbeing.

The only reason Dean always tried to make her stop smoking was because John always told her to stop. And Dean looked up at John like nuns look at the picture of Jesus. The level of idolization was ridiculous.

When Dean came back, a tall, scrawny dark haired guy- Emily could only assume it was Sam- was walking a few steps behind him. Sam didn't look like Emily imagined him. John never bothered showing her pictures: the Winchesters sure weren’t the “make memories together” kind of family. So, she had built this fantasy about him in her head that he was going to be blonde. Like, german-tourist blonde. And short. After all, they called him Sammy. The Golden Boy didn’t look half as cocky as Dean did. He only looked pissed. Understandable, since he had to interact with Dean. Sam walked closer to the car, where Emily was sitting, and opened the door to the passenger’s seat. He jumped back with a scared gasp. Dean sat in the driver seat and slammed the door closed.

“Get in the back,” he said. Emily turned towards him and raised her eyebrows.

“Really?”

“In the back, now,” Dean repeated, starting the engine without looking at Emily.

“But I was here first,” she said. “Can’t he sit in the back?!”

“No,” said Dean. “He was here first.” He pointed to Sam. Emily huffed. “You just fell into my lap and refused to leave.”

“I didn’t-” Emily opened her mouth a couple of times, at a loss for words, then decided to just comply: she didn’t have it in her. Not at three in the morning after already enduring him for a twelve hour drive. “You know what? Nevermind, I’ll just move.” She stepped out of the car and almost bumped into Sam, who was still looking at her, confused. Look more dumb, would you? “I’m sorry-” she said, with the fakest smile she could manage. She pulled the lever on the side of the car seat, folding it and hitting Dean’s back. He complained, but Emily ignored him. “Stupid car-” she said, climbing in the backseat. “Couldn’t get a regular, modern, five door car, could you?” Dean looked at Emily through the rearview mirror as she settled in the back seat. “No, it had to be a sixty-seven Impala-” she continued, mocking Dean’s voice. Sam sat down in the front seat. Emily could see him frowning and trying to get a better look at her from the rearview mirror. Of course Dean wasn't going to be a normal person and introduce her, which was a great possibility to piss him off. “You didn’t tell me you were gonna bring someone else,” she said. “This is gonna cost you extra, you know?” Dean frowned and looked at her through the rearview mirror, while Sam looked at his brother and opened his mouth.

“Sam, meet Emily,” Dean said with a sigh. “She thinks she’s so funny.” Sam’s eyes grew more confused as he turned to look at Emily.

“I’m your half sister,” she said. That didn’t make Sam’s frown any weaker. On the contrary. “That’s right, John Winchester’s had an extramarital affair, who would have guessed?”

“Emily-” Dean tried to interject but Sam turned towards Emily and spoke first.

“What did you just say?” he asked.

“I said John Winchester's had an extramarital affair,” Emily repeated. Was he deaf or something? Or maybe he didn’t know what extramarital meant?

“No, not that-” Sam blinked a couple of times, then turned towards Dean. “What the hell is going on?” he asked. “Since when- Since when we have a sister?!” Dean took a glance at Emily in the rearview mirror. The heat of the car seeped through her sweater, so she started to take it off.

“It’s a long story,” Dean sighed. “But in short- the thing that killed mom, killed her family too. Dad took her in.” Emily rolled her eyes. That was the most reductive, stupid explanation one could give of her situation. First, he didn’t know that for sure. No one knew that for sure. John had come to that conclusion without ever giving her a shred of explanation or proof. Second, John didn’t take her in. John lugged her around like a bag of sweaty leotards after a summer intensive. Hidden from everyone else, and with disgust. Sam pondered on Dean’s words for a few seconds, then turned towards Emily.

“I’m Sam, by the way,” he said with a smile. Emily raised her eyebrows and looked at Sam’s hand, waiting to shake hers. The stare went on for a few seconds, until Sam closed his hand and moved it away. “...okay… uh,” he hesitated, confused. “you- you like musical theater?” he asked. Emily’s eyebrows furrowed, but then Sam pointed to her Wicked t-shirt. “I went to see Wicked last year, Idina Menzel is seriously talented, right?” When she didn’t answer, Dean turned, too.

“Emily,” he said, “cut it out.” Sam turned towards Dean, a hint of surprise in his eyes.

“I guess she’s alright,” said Emily, “I didn’t get to see the show, though.” Sam opened his mouth, “on account of John not letting me go.”

“We got you the tape, isn’t that the same damn thing?” asked Dean.

“No!” “No!” said Emily and Sam. Sam smiled, amused. Emily, instead, looked disgusted for a moment, then took her walkman from her bag and pressed play.

November 2nd, 2005.

On Sunday night, Dean dropped Sam off in front of the same apartment complex he’d picked him up from. Emily stared out the window as Dean failed to convince his brother to stay. Their conversation moved away from the car and Emily took the opportunity to climb back into the front seat putting both feet on the leather. Sam wasn’t gonna stay anyway. He didn’t want to.

“Next stop?” she asked when Dean was back in the car. “I saw a motel-”

“Shut up a goddamn minute,” he said, looking out of the window. What was he looking at? Emily leaned forward to look at the building and just a moment after, she saw an orange light tremble in one of the windows. It took her a second to realize. Fire.

There was a fire.

Just like when her mom died.

Dean sprinted out of the car, but Emily didn't make it more than two steps away. She knew what she should have done. She knew she was supposed to follow Dean, follow John’s teachings, but she could not move. It didn’t matter how much John’s voice screamed in her head, Alex screamed louder. Her legs gave out and she slid against the Impala and to the ground.

Alex’s crib was on fire. He was trying to cry- desperate for oxygen. Emily took him in her arms and tried not to scream, burning her hands. She placed her t-shirt over Alex’s mouth and nose- please don’t die, please- Suddenly, Emily felt light, then heavy. She heard a rhythmic beeping. Hospital. She was in the hospital.

She fought to open her eyes for what felt like minutes. The first thing she saw was Dean sitting in the opposite corner of the room. He was, of course, distracted by Sam, who was pacing just outside. She tried to move, but all that came out was a groan of pain. Dean’s eyes shifted over to her.

“Look who’s awake,” he said with a stern look. “How are you feeling?”

“What is Sam doing here?” she asked. Dean glanced outside the room and didn’t answer. It took Emily a couple of seconds to realize what had happened. There was only one reason Sam would agree to be there instead of with Jessica or at his stupid job interview. Jessica was dead. As for Emily, she had failed to be a hunter for what had to be the hundredth time. “Alright, let me hear it,” she sighed. “I’m a poor excuse for a hunter and a weak idiot.” Dean looked at her for a few seconds and stood up, his expression indecipherable to Emily.

Was he angry? Worried? Disappointed? Was he gonna scream? Emily braced herself for the fight of a century, but then Dean spoke.

“Later,” he said. No screaming. No yelling. Something was up. “Now, care to explain why I have a dozen of shrinks and CPS workers running behind me?” Emily looked at him and tried to think of an answer. Just telling him they’re looking for his big childish behind wasn’t a good enough response. Dean looked down at her lap, and she did too. Her long sleeve t-shirt and her overalls were gone and they had been replaced by a hospital gown and a plastic bracelet that said Veronica Sawyer on it. The bracelet was tied around her wrist and contrasted with the marks the fire had left her. Just above it, a collection of scars and cuts that were not from the fire. Not at all. Ah, freak.

“They’re from hunting,” she said. Her voice came out so unconvincing she couldn’t even fool herself. Dean’s hand slammed on the tray that hung at the end of the bed. Emily flinched, her eyes shutting close for a moment. There he was. Dean Winchester in all his violent, abusive glory.

“Goddamnit, Emily, when were you going to tell me or dad about that?!” he asked. Emily scoffed. “Don’t get me wrong, I knew you were weird, but this-”

“Tell you and dad? For what?!” she asked. “What would you have done about it?” Dean looked at her. He didn’t have an answer. Of course he didn’t. Dean didn’t know anything without John present. All he knew came from John’s journal, and it sure didn’t cover mental health. “Yeah, just what I thought.”

“Don’t act smart with me,” said Dean. “You’re lucky dad isn’t here, because if he knew-”

“He wouldn’t do anything, just like you won’t, because he doesn’t care about these things!” yelled Emily. Sam turned around and looked at her through the glass. He stared at her for a couple of seconds as Dean walked closer to Emily, before he resumed pacing.

“Yeah well, I’m not dad, so…” Dean paused. “You’re not hunting with me.” Emily opened her mouth. “You’re on the bench.”

“What?!” Emily complained. “I-”

“Get your shit together,” Dean said. “Until you do, you don’t leave the motel. Period.”

“You’re joking, right?!” Emily complained. “I’m not a child! I can take care of myself!”

“Can you?” Dean grabbed her wrist and shook it in front of her face. “I’m getting tired of this shit, you know? Life sucks sometimes, get over yourself.”

It had been a month after the fire at Stanford, and Emily had memorized every stain on every cup at the diner. She was on her third cup of coffee, sitting across from Dean. He’d been shot down by just about every single male and female waiter in the room and got so bored he had started searching for cases in the local newspaper. Emily couldn’t complain: it was enough that Dean had let her out of the motel at all. For the first few weeks after getting out of the hospital, after taking her gun, Dean had locked Emily alone in every motel they’d visited, until one night he must have realized being alone all the time just gave her more opportunities to hurt herself, and started dragging her around every store they went to. She just couldn’t hold a gun or hunt at all. For that, she’d have to go back to the motel. Often by herself, often by foot. The urgent nature of their job had the priority over whether she got picked up by a child molester on the way.

“Have you found anything?” she asked, bouncing her leg up and down under the table. She had to wait a good thirty seconds before he answered her.

“Yeah.” Dean circled an obituary with a red pen. “Body wasn’t found.” Emily barely looked at the obituary and nodded. Whatever case was fine, she wasn’t going to participate anyway. Him pretending to include her in the process was just an act to keep her quiet. The door to the diner opened and Sam appeared through the door. The waiter approached the table and smiled. Dean fixed himself in the chair and smirked to the waiter.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked. Sam sat next to Emily, pushing her further into the bench, and didn’t give Dean the chance to flirt.

“Just the check, please.” The waiter nodded and walked away, which prompted Dean to release a frustrated groan.

“You know, Sam,” he said. “We’re allowed to have fun once in a while.” Emily looked at the waiter and frowned.

“You call that… fun?” she asked. The waiter wasn’t even hot.

“I mean, yeah.” Dean shrugged. “Sex is sex, you know. No need to be picky.”

“Yeah, sex is sex or whatever,” Emily said, looking away. Sam snickered. “What?” Emily leaned back on the bench and looked at him.

“What would you know about sex?” he asked.

“The same things you know,” she answered, crossing her arms.

“Yeah- right.”

“I’m sorry, do you have an opinion on my sex life?” asked Emily, her voice coming out way too high for her to seem calm. Dean rolled his eyes.

“I got us a case,” he said, interrupting Emily's complaint. “If you’re done bickering like five year olds.” Emily rolled her eyes and grabbed Dean’s cup of coffee. She took a sip and eyed Sam as he thanked the waitress for the cup of coffee she’d just brought him. “Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week. Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out.” Sam took out his laptop and opened it. “Authorities dragged the water, nothing,” Dean said. Emily leaned left towards Sam to see what he was typing. “Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either.” Dean reached for the coffee cup Emily had taken and looked inside of it to find it empty. “They had a funeral two days ago.”

“A funeral?” Sam shifted his eyes off the laptop and back at Dean.

“Yeah- they buried an empty coffin,” said Dean, gesturing towards the waitress for more coffee. “Closure or whatever.”

“Closure?” said Sam. “What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.” Not this again, thought Emily, leaning back in her side of the boot. Sam had been more and more a pain in her behind after the hospital. He acted like nobody was ever doing enough to find John, to find what killed Jessica. Sometimes, Sam reminded Emily of John. Dean adjusted himself on the bench and looked at Sam.

“Something you want to say to me?” he asked. Emily tried to take Dean’s cup again, but he moved it away.

“The trail for dad,” said Sam with a deep sigh. “It’s getting colder everyday.” Emily released an annoyed noise and leaned back into the bench. Sam looked at her but ignored her.

“Exactly, what are we supposed to do about it?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” said Sam.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Emily interjected. “Why am I not surprised?” Sam and Dean looked at each other for a moment, remained silent, then resumed their argument.

“Look Sam - We’re the ones that have been stuck with him- every single day- for the past two years,” said Dean, “so- drop the attitude, okay? We’ve got enough of that.” Dean looked towards Emily, who opened her mouth to try and defend herself. “Oh, please- spare me.” Dean stood up, left some money on the table and headed out of the diner.

Emily got lugged around by Dean through the preliminary work of the case. They talked with the sheriff and Dean had wasted no time before he hit on his daughter, Andrea. There was also a kid, Lucas, who had not said a word at all. They didn’t find out much from the victim’s friends, family and colleagues, and Dean had sent Emily out to buy lunch, which was most of what she did those days. She entered the motel room holding a paper bag containing hamburgers and fries.

“Anything new on the case?” she asked, throwing Dean his hamburger. She turned towards Sam. “I got you a burger, too.”

“Oh, no, it’s… it’s fine,” Sam said. “I’m not hungry.”

“What else is new,” Dean sighed, rolling his eyes while he unwrapped the burger. Sam cleared his voice and sat straighter in his chair. “Just eat the damn burger, Sam.” Emily looked at him: he certainly could have used a burger, but anybody could have said the same of her, so who was she to cast judgement? She dropped the paper bag in front of Sam, who looked at it with a certain disdain. “Apparently,” Dean continued, “there were six more vics in the past thirty five years. If something really is in that lake, it’s picking up its pace.”

“Any theories?” asked Emily, dropping on her bed. Sam scratched his nose, thinking.

“Not really,” he said. “There really isn’t any reliable eyewitness to lake monsters, like… Loch Ness, for example.”

“Maybe nobody’s living to tell the story,” she wondered. Sam continued reading on his laptop, and Dean stood behind him, eating his burger. “Wait- Barr, Christopher Barr,” he said, pointing at something on the screen. “Where have I heard that name before?”

“It’s uh- the victim in May,” said Sam. Emily stood up, too, and walked next to Dean. “He was Andrea’s husband, Lucas’ father. Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued.”

“Jesus- No wonder Lucas is scared out of his mind,” Emily said. Sam glared at her from behind his shoulder. “That’s not something you get over with.”

“We should go talk to Andrea,” said Sam. Dean nodded and grabbed his jacket. He looked up and saw Emily also reaching for her backpack.

“Right,” he sighed and looked at Sam, who shrugged and walked past him. “Emily, you wait for us here, okay?” Emily frowned. “Keep… uh- keep researching the lake’s history?”

“Oh, come on, still? It’s been more than a month. This isn’t even-” Dean tried to answer. “We’re talking with people, can I not even do that now?!” Dean took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he answered, “but you know what? You’re glued to my ass.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“You make me seriously want to freaking kill myself, you know that?” she said, reaching for her backpack. Dean looked at Sam, trying to hold back laughter. “What?!” Emily complained.

“Did you just say ‘freaking’?” Dean asked with a smirk. Sam smiled. “What, you think mommy’s gonna take away your toys if you swear?” Emily raised her eyebrows and Sam’s smile vanished. Already with the big guns.

“No, but mine taught me basic manners, didn’t yours?” she asked, not bothering to look at him while taking stuff out of her backpack.

Please don’t die, please don’t die- As she turned the other way to run out of the room, she saw it. Her mom’s body. She was on the ceiling, just above the door. Flames had already eaten away at half her face and were quickly making their way in the rest of her body. Emily’s hands felt like they were about to explode. Alex had stopped crying. The sound of the sirens outside weren’t enough to make Emily move.

She was dead.

Her mom was dead.

And Alex had stopped crying.

“Hey!” called a voice. “Emily?” called Sam’s voice. Emily was standing outside the Impala, staring at a house in the distance. It looked very similar to the one she used to live in.

“Uh?” The memories of the night that took her family away were still rampaging hard in her mind, but fading as Sam’s voice replaced them.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked. Emily nodded.

“Can you get through here?” Emily managed to look away from her mother’s body. A firefighter was trying to help her through the half-collapsed door. “Come on, there’s no time to lose! Give me the baby.”

The car door slammed, startling Emily so much she released a strangled yelp. Dean looked at her, annoyed.

“What’s wrong with you now?” he asked.

“Sorry, I was…” She looked at Sam, realizing she’d been talking to her. “What were you saying?” Sam frowned and followed Dean away from the car. Emily did the same. She recognized Andrea in the distance: she was Lucas’ mom and the wife of Christopher Barr, who’d gone missing years before in that lake.

“Can we join you?” Sam asked. Andrea looked at Emily and frowned.

“Is it still bring-your-daughter-to-work day?” she asked, pointing at Emily.

“It’s for the week.” Sam smiled. “Are you here with your son?” Andrea nodded and pointed to the kid in the park.

“Mind if we say hi?” Dean smiled and pointed to Lucas. Emily had noticed that often, when Dean smiled, women gave him what he wanted. Andrea, too, fell into that pattern, and agreed. Dean gestured at Emily to follow him and walked towards Lucas.

“Do I have to come with you?” she whispered, following him closely. She didn’t feel comfortable around Lucas. He was silent, never smiled, and stared at her way too much. Like he knew all her secrets.

“I told you, glued to my ass,” answered Dean, pushing her in front of him. Emily sighed, walking a few steps behind Dean.

“Why do I have to talk with the kid? Can’t I speak with Andrea?” Dean stopped and grabbed her from her overalls to stop her, too. She turned.

“You’re a weirdo. Grown ups don’t like weirdos,” he said, looking back just for a moment before walking past her.

“I’m not a-” Dean picked up the pace. and sat next to Lucas, leaving Emily no choice but to walk to him.

“How’s it going?” he asked. His tone changed so much that Emily had to make a double take to make sure Dean was still the one talking. Lucas didn’t say anything, nor looked at them. He continued coloring his drawing. Emily stood behind Dean and looked at the drawing Lucas was making. “Come on, sit down,” said Dean. Emily tried to ignore him. “Oh, come on-” Dean picked up a toy soldier. “Me and Lucas are playing with soldiers, you should too.” He looked towards Lucas. “Right, Lucas?” The kid ignored him. With a sigh, Emily sat next to Lucas, opposite from Dean. “I used to love these things,” he said. Emily picked up a soldier and moved it closer to Dean’s. She imitated the sound of an explosion and pushed Dean’s soldier down. Dean chuckled. Lucas didn’t move his eyes off his drawing. “Okay,” said Dean. “So- crayons’ more your thing? That's cool. Chicks dig artists.” He looked at Emily. “Right?” She didn’t answer. Dean sighed and handed her a piece of paper and a pink crayon. She looked at him for a moment, went to pick up a different color, but hesitated. In the end, she drew a ballerina, which was the only thing she could draw with a singular pink crayon, while Dean drew a group of four stickmen. She checked his drawing multiple times and soon realized that he was drawing his family. And she wasn’t in it. Unless he thought of her as a blonde woman, which she wasn’t. “You know, I think you can hear me,” he said, glaring over at Lucas. “You just don’t want to talk.” What a terrible moment to choose to be nice, thought Emily, right after you forget about me in your freaking drawing. “I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel.” Dean looked at Emily for a moment, then at his drawing. “When I was your age, I saw something.” Emily stared at her drawing and dragged the crayon up and down on the ballerina’s tutu. The situation was uncomfortable enough before Dean started talking about how sad he was as a kid. “Anyway,” he continued after a second. “Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or- or believe you. I want you to know that I will.” Emily raised her eyebrows, but kept looking at the drawing. “You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.” In all of Dean’s nice big talk, Lucas never even looked up at him. He did, however, hand a light blue crayon to Emily. She used it to color the sky behind her ballerina. “Okay.” Dean put down the crayon. “No problem. This is for you.” He gave Lucas the drawing of his family. “This is my family,” he explained. “That's my dad.” He pointed to a stick figure of what was supposed to be John. “That's my mom, that's my geek brother, and that's me.” He pointed to all the stick figures, then grabbed Emily’s drawing from her and put it next to his. “And that’s my weirdo half sister,” he explained. Emily tried to explain that that wasn’t her, it was just a ballerina, but Dean didn’t let her. “She used to be one of those prima ballerinas, dancing on their toes.” Lucas didn’t look up. “That’s weird, right? I bet her toes are all crooked.” Dean paused for a few seconds and looked at Emily. “All right,” he sighed. “Looks like we’re terrible artists.”

“That was so stupid,” said Emily, as she paced behind Dean towards the car. Sam, a few steps behind her, sighed. “But now at least I know that you’re capable of being nice.” Dean didn’t turn. “I care for you, Lucas,” she said, imitating him. “I hear you, I will believe you.” Dean’s steps became longer as he hurried towards the car. “Was acting part of your hunter training, or-”

“Will you shut up?!” Dean asked, turning around. “I really don’t want to hear it.”

“Wow,” Emily sighed. “Bipolar, much?” Dean looked at Sam, who walked past them and ignored their argument. Emily walked behind him, leaving Dean alone with whatever problem he had.

When Dean turned off the engine of the Impala in front of the motel, he rushed out of it and slammed the door, which he never did. He was always careful with the Impala. Emily didn't have time to grab her backpack off the seat that Dean was already knocking on the window, hurrying her to get out.

“Jesus-” she mumbled, folding the front seat over itself and getting out of the car. “Why are we in a hurry?”

“Shut up and give me the keys.” Emily rolled her eyes and put a hand in her pocket, looking for the keys

“Wait,” she said, putting down her backpack to look in the other pockets of her overalls.

“The keys!” Dean repeated, extending out his hand.

“What is wrong with you?! I’m looking for them!” yelled Emily, looking for the keys in her backpack. “What? You were nice in front of me for like- a second and now you feel the need to compensate?”

“I said shut up!” Dean yelled back. Emily took the keys out of the backpack, but didn’t hand them to Dean. Sam sighed and shook his head.

“Don't tell me to shut up,” said Emily. “You’re not dad, you’re not my mother, so-” Dean’s fist clenched.

“Emily, the fucking keys,” he said.

“Spare me,” she answered, putting her hands on her waist, the keys dangling off her fingers. “You weren’t acting earlier, you can be nice! You just choose to be a fucking dick to me!”

“You drive me fucking crazy by pulling stunts like this, that's why I’m a dick- now give me the keys!” repeated Dean. Emily ignored his request.

“Stunts? I haven’t done anything! I was just sitting in your stupid car! Is that illegal now?” Emily yelled. Sam dragged his hands across his face and tried to interject, but Dean continued arguing.

“Emily, I’m tired and I don't have the energy to argue with a fucking kid,” said Dean, stepping forward to get the keys from Emily’s hands. She moved back. “Give me-”

“Stop calling me a kid!” Emily pushed Dean and he took a step back. That was when Sam intervened by stepping in the middle of the half-siblings.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, looking at Emily. Then, he looked back at Dean and gave him a look. Emily didn't know what the look meant, but it worked. Every single time. Dean sighed and looked away. “Emily, take a walk.”

“What?!” said Emily. “Wh-”

“Because I’m asking you to take a fucking walk!” said Sam. Emily scoffed. She threw the keys on Sam’s chest and left.

Emily came back after sunset. It was already dark, and walking down the street was next to impossible. The only light she had was her cigarette, burning between her fingers, and that was, too, soon to run out. She knocked on the room door and waited. Nothing happened. As a car drove away from the parking lot, the motel went silent, and she could hear everything in the room.

“What- Dean, what do you mean you don't know?!” said Sam’s voice. “She's- She's your sister, okay? And you don't know what her life was like before her mom died or- how old she is? How?!”

“First of all, half sister, and second- I don't know, Sam, okay? She isn’t exactly an easy person to talk to!” said Dean. “She's always being a fucking bitch- ready to jump at my throat, she's-”

“She’s a kid who had to watch her mother die not three years ago!” said Sam. Emily rolled her eyes. She pressed the cigarette under the boots and kept listening.

“What?” Dean’s voice sounded surprised, for probably the first time since Emily had known him. The motel went silent for a long beat. “What are you talking about?”

“You heard what she said about Lucas,” said Sam’s voice. “Maybe she saw something, too.” Emily leaned on the door. Not much because she wanted to hear more, but because her legs were tired. “You shouldn't be such a dick with her, anyway.”

“Look Sam, we all have gone through some shit, but we don't go around bitching about it.” Okay, that was enough. Emily stood up again and knocked on the door, louder. The room went silent and the door opened. Without saying a word, Emily pushed her way past Sam, kicked her shoes away and dropped on her side of the queen sized bed.

“Are you okay?” asked Sam. Dean sighed.

“Shut up,” Emily muttered into the pillow.

Emily woke up early, went to grab breakfast, and left it on the motel table. She walked out of the motel again, looking for somewhere to buy a pack of cigarettes. She walked past the victim’s house. At first, she didn’t notice anything weird or out of the ordinary. A girl had died a few girls prior, police and people walking around the house wasn’t weird. But then, she saw an ambulance. And since there was no body, the ambulance wasn’t supposed to be there. She touched her back pocket, checking if she had her fake badge with her, and walked to the paramedic.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m agent Hamilton, I am here with the US Wildlife Service.” The paramedic looked at her, confused.

“Right,” he chuckled. “Do you mind kid? I am trying to work here.”

“I am part of a youth program that trains young officers, my seniors aren’t here at the moment, but we can give them a call if you like,” she explained, hoping the man wouldn’t ask for her to do so.

“You said Wildlife Service?” he asked. Emily nodded. “Whatever, this isn’t a job for you, anyway.”

“Why, what happened?”

“Well, unless there’s wildlife in the Carltons’ sink, I don’t see why you’d get involved.”

“He-”

“He drowned in his sink, I don’t think that’s a job for the animal police,” the man said, nervous. “Now, as I said, I’ve got a real job to do, so…” The paramedic grabbed something off the ambulance and walked away. Emily rushed back to the motel, she opened the door and slammed it close, waking Dean up.

“Jesus fuck- what are you doing?” He asked, dragging his hands on his eyes. Sam turned to look at her, confused.

“It’s not a lake monster,” she said. “Something’s controlling the lake water.”

“Why do you say that?” Dean asked.

“Will Carlton is dead,” she said.

“He drowned?” Sam asked, closing his computer. Emily sighed.

“Does it count as drowning if it’s in your sink?”

“The sink?” Dean asked, standing up. Emily nodded. “Wait, did you- were you on the case? Alone?”

“I walked past his house, I just asked a few questions,” she complained. “Get off my back for a second, I’m helping!”

“You know you’re not supposed to work the Job by yourself, I thought I was pretty clear you were benched!” Dean said, raising his voice. “Why did you-”

“I went out to buy some stuff, okay? It’s not like I was working on purpose!” she complained. “Was I supposed to just ignore it?”

“You were supposed to call us!”

“Why?” she asked. “I can talk with people, right? I’m benched, not stupid!”

“Okay, okay,” Sam said, trying to calm them down. Dean walked away and stood over his bag. “Let’s all take a step back, if- if it’s in the lake water, it can get to anybody, but why- why is it-” Emily interrupted him.

“Didn’t the sheriff say they were gonna dry up the lake?” she said. “Maybe that’s it, maybe it’s running out of time!”

“We need to pay a visit to the sheriff,” Dean said. “This thing took both his kids, it has to have something to do with him.”

“I think we should talk to Andrea,” Sam said. “Maybe she knows something.”

“Okay,” Dean sighed. He looked at Emily. “Sam, you go talk with the sheriff, we’ll see what Andrea has to say.”

Emily stood in the doorway of Lucas’ bedroom for a moment before Dean looked back and gestured at her to come with him.

“Hey Lucas,” he said, crouching down. “You remember us?” Emily picked up a pile of drawings, all of them of a red bike. She looked at Dean. “I- uh- I wanted to thank you for that last drawing,” he continued. “But the thing is, I need your help again.” He took out the drawing Lucas had given him when they’d met him. “How did you know to draw this?” he asked. Lucas didn’t look up or stop drawing. “Did you know something bad was gonna happen?” Emily looked at him. The kid wasn’t going to talk. Maybe Sam was right. “Maybe you could nod yes or no for me?” Dean said.

“Dean,” she whispered, trying to get his attention. But he ignored her.

“You’re scared, it’s okay.” he said. Emily rolled her eyes. “I understand.” What the hell was so wrong with her that Dean could be understanding with anybody but her? “See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too,” Sure. Dean Winchester, scared. Emily walked out of the room.

“Sorry, I’ve got to take a call,” she said to Andrea as she walked past her. She stood out of the front door and lit up a cigarette. Dean came out a few minutes later.

“Where did you go?” he asked. Emily ignored him and threw the cigarette on the floor, starting to walk towards the car. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Did he tell you something?”

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me, Dean,” she said. “Get out of my ass, will you?” Dean sighed and walked past her. He started the car. “So? What happened in there?”

“Nothing that you’d need to know,” he said. Emily opened her mouth. “No, dude, you don’t get to leave in the middle of something, refuse to explain, and then keep working like nothing happened,” he complained. “Me and Sam will take care of this.”

Emily sat alone in the Motel, scrolling news on Sam’s laptop as if something new from 1986 could pop up and change the course of the case. It was four AM and Sam and Dean had been gone for a few hours. She looked at the first article they could find and frowned. One of the kids looked familiar. It was the sheriff. Next to him, a kid with a red bike and then another kid. He looked just like Bill Carlton, Andrea’s father in law. The title: “12-year-old disappears after school, presumed dead by authorities.” She grabbed her phone and called Sam. He doesn’t answer. Emily put on her sweater over her overalls, grabbed the keys off the table and ran out of the room. It wasn’t a big town. She could find them. She found an abandoned bike in front of the motel and stole it. She rode down the street, looking for the Impala, nothing. So, she went back up, rode down another street. Nothing. Third try, the sun almost up in the sky, she saw the Impala. She left the bike out on the pavement and rushed inside. The door was open. She walked in and saw Lucas crying on top of the stairs. A few seconds later, Dean and Andrea appeared too.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked. Sam showed up on top of the stairs, too.

“We need to talk,” Emily said. Dean looked at Sam, then disappeared with Andrea and Lucas back upstairs. Sam walked down the stairs. “Sam, I think I know what’s going on.” she said. “And I know it’s a stretch, but I- I just- I don’t know, I feel it, okay?”

“Okay,” Sam frowned. “Slow down, what’s going on?”

“Bill Carlton and Jake Devins, they were friends with a kid who had a red bike,” she explained. Sam kept frowning, confused. “Lucas, he- he keeps drawing red bikes! I think- I think this might be Peter Sweeney’s spirit we’re working with!”

“How- how do you know about-”

“I found him in the city archives, he- he disappeared back in the day,” she explained. “We overlooked the case because he didn’t drown.” Sam looked at her. He turned around and called for Dean. He appeared on top of the stairs.

“I think Emily figured it out,” Sam said. Emily looked at Dean as she saw his expression change. He wasn't gonna give her credit, he was gonna send her back.

“Nice job, kid, now you go back to the room before things get heated,” he said.

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked. “I figured it out, I want to stay!”

“Should have thought about it when you still had my trust,” Dean answered. “You’re benched, go back to the motel.” Emily looked at Sam, who rolled his eyes and walked upstairs, leaving Emily alone. She was about to follow him, fight for her right to be there, but she didn’t. Dean wasn’t going to listen. He never was. Emily walked out of the house and saw Lucas walk towards the lake. She look behind her. Nobody.

“Lucas?” she called. The kid didn’t turn. “Lucas, don’t-” Lucas stopped a few feet from the lake and looked at her, then at the ground. Emily crouched down and dug her hand into the dirt, grimacing in disgust. Half a foot into the soil, she felt it. Something hard and cold. She cleared the dirt just enough to see that it was a bike handle. She looked at Lucas and grabbed her phone. She called Sam.

“Ya,” he answered.

“Sam, I found the red bike,” she said. “It’s right by the lake.” Sam closed the call and showed up a few seconds later followed by Dean.

“What the hell were you doing out here?” Dean asked. “I told you to go b-”

“Dean,” Sam complained. Dean rolled his eyes. Emily crossed her arms.

“I- Lucas walked out the door, I was trying to make sure he didn’t get hurt,” she explained. Dean looked at her and frowned. “What?” she asked. He shook his head and looked away. Emily looked down to where Lucas used to stand, but he wasn’t there anymore. She turned and saw him standing over the pier. Before she could even think of rushing towards him, he was falling in the lake, and before she could think of consequences, she was also jumping in the lake. The water was ice cold, almost unbearable against her skin, and it was almost impossible to look around. She saw Lucas’ hand disappear right below her and tried to swim downwards, but whatever was dragging Lucas could swim much faster than her. With a cloud of bubbles, someone else fell into the lake. She didn’t wait to look who it was, she resurfaced for air and then swam back down. She was never the best swimmer, she’d used it as cross training for dance a couple of times, but John had called her swimming barely passable. Nonetheless, she was determined to find Lucas: whatever had happened in that lake, it wasn’t his fault. He was just a kid who’d seen something horrible happen to her father. She kicked her feet as fast as possible, until something grabbed her hand. It was cold, and weirdly dry to be at the bottom of a lake. As she got dragged down, unable to even attempt to resurface and running out of air, she saw Sam’s body swim above her. He didn’t notice her. And if Sam didn’t notice her, Dean surely wasn’t going to. She tried to keep her breathing slow, conserve some of her already limited oxygen, and tried to set herself free. She kicked the hand that was dragging her, but it didn’t budge. She reached Lucas at the bottom of the lake, and grazed the sand with her legs. The hand let go of her, and she saw it: a ghostly kid, running away from her and towards a human figure in the distance. She looked up. She didn’t have enough energy left to swim up. She grabbed Lucas and tried pushing his body towards the surface. He floated a few feet above her, but didn’t keep going long enough. She tried swimming up, but it was like her legs weren’t hers anymore. She tried to stop herself, but her body forced out a cough, her lungs filling with water.

She woke up still coughing on the pier, water coming out of holes it surely wasn’t supposed to come out of, like her nose. She sat up and felt someone’s hand on her shoulder. It was Sam. A few feet away, Dean was helping Andrea wrap Lucas in a towel.

“He’s fine,” Sam said. “We found you guys in time.” Emily didn’t answer, feeling more water coming up her throat, and turned to vomit it. Sam moved her hair out of the way. As Emily tried to spit out some dirt she’d swallowed along the way, she heard step approach her and recognized Dean’s boots. Come on, she’d saved the kid, he could spare her the usual telling-off.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily cleaned her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at him. What the hell did it look like? She’d almost drowned. “You got clothes in the car?” he asked. Emily nodded. “Alright.” Dean disappeared again and reappeared a few minutes later with a towel and dry clothes.

“Thanks,” she whispered, her throat burning. Maybe there wasn’t going to be a telling off. Maybe. Dean and Sam exchanged a look as she dried her face with the towel. She had no idea what the look meant.

The room where it happens

From Hamilton

Emily woke up covered in sweat. After dragging her hand across her face, she turned to see Sam sitting right next to her. It had been a few months since the lake case, and Dean still hadn’t given her the green light to get back to hunting, on the grounds of not having cleaned up her act. In all fairness, she had not. If anything, she'd made her case worse by starting to make jokes about suicide.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked. Emily answered with a groan. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Sam slid out of bed while Emily laid back down. “Another nightmare?”

“Yeah,” Emily sighed. Sam didn’t answer, so Emily propped her head up to see him staring at her. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “You should go back to sleep.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Emily whispered before closing her eyes back up and falling back on the mattress. She spent the rest of the night between light sleep and waking up, grinding her teeth. She could never fall asleep and every time she opened her eyes, she saw Sam sitting on his side of the bed.

She gave up on sleeping around six, when the sun was high enough to call it “morning”, and went out to grab coffee. Sam was still awake and looked like he had not slept at all.

“What does Dean usually get?” she whispered. Sam took his eyes off what he seemed to be a drawing to look at her.

“Black coffee,” he said. “But ask for extra sugar on the side, he says he likes it dark, but he doesn’t.” Emily nodded and closed the buttons to her overalls.

“What do you get?”

“’m fine,” said Sam. Emily frowned. “Really, don’t worry.”

When Emily came back in the room, Sam and Dean were already researching possible cases. Or at least, Dean was. Sam seemed to be still drawing something on a notepad. Emily handed Dean his coffee without a word.

“Thanks, little bitch,” he said. “See, Sammy?” He held up the sugar packet. “This is how you bring me breakfast.” Emily ignored him and sat back on the bed. Dean started listing possible cases, but got little to no reaction from Sam or Emily, which were both too busy doing something else. Sam, drawing on his little piece of paper, and Emily, reading a book.

“Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?” asked Dean. Emily closed her book.

“No,” “No,” said Sam and Emily. Emily frowned. Ew. She thought to herself. Being in sync with the golden boy? No thanks. She stood up from the bed and stole a sip of Dean’s coffee.

“Hey!” he complained. Emily walked a few steps away.

“What was the last case you said, the- cow mutilation?” she asked. ‘Cow’ and ‘’mutilation’ were the only two words she'd registered. Dean stood up, took his coffee back and turned the laptop towards her.

“Yeah, looks like…” Dean trailed off. Sam had stood up and had started looking for something in Dean’s bag. “What are you doing?” Sam grabbed John’s journal and took out a family picture. Emily had never seen it before: it was Sam, Dean, John and Mary, in front of a house.

“Dean, I know where we have to go next,” said Sam. Dean frowned.

“Where?”

“Home.” Dean’s chair went back a foot as he stood up, hitting Emily’s knee.

“Gosh- Stupid-” she cursed, groaning in pain. Dean turned, but didn’t seem to give much attention to Emily.

“Okay, random- Where did that come from?” he asked, putting his hands on his waist.

“Alright, um-” Sam walked to the table where Dean used to be sitting. He showed him the picture. “This photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where mom died?”

“Yeah.” Dean looked at it for a split second before placing it back on the table face down.

“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?” asked Sam. Emily took the picture to look at it, but Dean snatched it out of her hand and put it back on the table, again, face down.

“I guess so, yeah,” answered Dean, looking at Emily as if she’d just burned down the motel. He then paced through the room and sat on the bed. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Sam sat down in front of Dean.

“Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but… the people who live in our old house- I think they might be in danger.”

“What?” said Emily, frowning. “Why?!”

“Uh…” Sam shook his head. “it’s just, um…” He stood up again and walked towards his bag. “Look, just trust me on this, okay?”

“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” said Dean.

“Yeah.” Sam started packing his bags as Dean stood up again, confused. Emily kicked the chair Dean used to sit on back under the table and grabbed the coffee Dean had left behind.

“Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that,” said Dean, trying to get the coffee back from Emily while she moved away to avoid him.

“I can’t really explain it- is all.”

“Wait,” said Emily, before Dean could speak again. “Show me the picture again.” Sam took the picture from Dean and turned it towards Emily. She looked at it, eyes tightening as she tried to pick up on the details. “I saw this before.” Dean turned towards her.

“What?” said Dean. “Emily, wh-”

“I- I think I had a dream about it.” Sam looked at her with an expression Emily couldn’t decipher. A mix of fear and surprise. Maybe worry. He took back the picture and placed it inside John’s journal. Dean followed Sam’s movements around the room and crossed his arms.

“Okay- Both of you, what the hell?” he said, frowning.

“It’s just…” said Sam. Dean traced his face with his hands again and sighed. “I’ve been having a lot of nightmares, and-”

“Yeah, I noticed,” said Dean.

“Well, sometimes, the nightmares come true.” The room went silent for a long, infinite second. Emily frowned.

“Come again?” said Dean. A nervous chuckle passed his features before he was able to suppress it.

“Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica’s death- for days before it happened,” said Sam. He put his hands on his waist.

“Wa-” was all Emily managed to utter before Dean gestured her to stop talking. She rolled her eyes.

“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” said Dean. Weird dreams. It reminded Emily of something.

“No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it.”

The ceiling, the fire. Weird dreams with ceilings and fires- oh. Emily froze. “And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

“Sam-” Emily tried to intervene again.

“Emily, not now,” said Dean. “Look, Sam, I-”

“No, listen to me!” yelled Emily. Dean turned, more nervous by the second. The moment Sam and Dean both looked at her, Emily’s mouth dried up. “I- I-” she stuttered. Dean crossed his arms, annoyed, so Emily looked at Sam, who had the decency of not looking pissed off at her for speaking. “I just remembered something,” she said. Sam looked at her and swallowed as Emily grabbed her bag and shoved a hand inside. “I- Where is the stupid thing?!” Emily dug out her old phone from her bag. She hadn’t turned it on in years. She plugged it in the outlet and waited for the screen to light up. “I- I think I also-”

“Oh, no- please, Emily- Don’t- There’s no way both of you got the Shining,” said Dean. “Slow down, okay? It was just a coincidence. We’re not going to Lawrence, and we’re definitely not going all the way to Portland.”

“Here.” Emily ignored Dean and turned the phone towards Sam so that he could read.

“gd news, the project is done bc I couldnt zzz last night, I had the weirdest dream, all my fam died in a fire.” He read out loud.

“That’s not all, read the following message,” said Emily, turning her phone back towards her and opening the following message. She gave the phone to Sam.

“Okay- omg Emily, I hate nitemares, r u sure its nt stress? And you said…” Sam looked through the messages. “Is this how girls talk to each other?” he asked. Dean put his hands on his waist and Emily frowned, confused. “Sorry, uh- idk, but it was f-ing detailed, i like burned my hands n all. Its the 3rd time this week.” Sam looked up from the phone and Emily raised her hands in front of her face to show him the scars from the fire. Sam swallowed. “When was this?”

“I don’t know, a month? Two months before it happened?”

“Dean, this isn’t a coincidence,” said Sam. “Something’s going on here.”

“I don’t know-” Dean looked away and sighed. He walked to his bed and dropped down.

“What do you mean you don’t know, Dean?” Sam said, sitting on the bed in front of Dean. “This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed mom and Jessica!” Emily looked at Sam and decided - for once - to shut up. Sam knew how to get through to Dean. Maybe it was better if she didn’t intervene. “We’ve moved for less,” he concluded. Dean stood up and walked to the other side of the room.

“All right, just slow down, would ya?” he said. “I mean, what are you supposed to be, the- the twins from Shining or something?” he asked. Sam and Emily looked at each other and remained silent. “We’re not going back home,” Dean took a deep breath and looked at Sam. “Especially because…”

“What, Dean?” Emily put her hands on her waist. Enough shutting up. Shutting up was boring. “I mean, maybe it really is a coincidence, but there’s only one way to be sure, right?”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what?!” Dean looked at Emily, then at Sam, who frowned. Dean rolled his eyes.

“I- I swore to myself that I would never go back there.” As always, she thought, Dean Winchester is capable of having feelings only when it’s not about me. The thought must have come through her expression, because Dean asked “What?!” Emily tried to speak, but he didn’t let her. “Why are you looking at me like that?!”

“I’m not looking at you- Oh my gosh, Dean, calm down!” Emily stood up and walked to her backpack. “You know what I think?!” she said. “I think you don’t want to go because I’m involved!”

“What are you talking about?!” asked Dean.

“I’m sure if I wasn’t involved in this - no weird dreams, no old text messages - you’d already be on your stupid car, going eighty to figure out what was happening!” Dean stood up.

“I’m sorry, what are you trying to say?!” he asked, walking towards her. Emily swallowed, Dean’s figure towering several inches above her.

“I heard you, back in Wisconsin,” she said, trying to look serious even if her throat was closing. Dean glared behind him, probably looking for Sam.

“You know - this really isn’t about you,” said Dean. “so how about you shut the fuck up - get back in line and let me do my job?” Emily bit the inside of her cheek but kept staring at Dean, refusing to stand down.

“No,” she said. “because as much as you’d love it - this is also about me!” Dean opened his mouth to answer but Sam’s hand appeared over his shoulder and dragged him back. Emily used both hands to push Dean away, grabbed her backpack and walked to the other side of the room. As she stared at her backpack she heard the motel door close and drew a breath of relief, thinking she was finally alone. She wasn’t big on confrontation. She’d spent most of her life in a bubble where at most - she’d have to confront a bully. And they were usually very bad at bullying. Confronting Dean was out of her comfort zone to say the least, but she felt like it was needed to show she wasn’t a kid. To gain the respect of the alfa of the pack of whatever other bullshit men did. A hand touched her shoulder and she turned - ready to hit the intruder. But it was just Sam.

“Sorry-” he said, looking at Emily's hand as it fell back next to her. “Look, Dean m-”

“I don't need your help,” she said. “Dean's been a pain in my behind for a long time now, so you don't need to defend me or whatever.” Sam looked at her for a second, sighed and looked away. “Are we going to Kansas or not?”

“We need to stop for gas,” said Dean, pulling over into a gas station. He looked at Emily. “You have five minutes, do whatever it is you need to do.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,” she said. Dean ignored her and went out of the car. She also did and walked to the bathroom while lighting up a cigarette. She held it between her lips all through the bathroom visit, moving it away with her right hand when she needed to. As she washed her hands, she heard Dean’s voice talking to the phone.

“Dad? I know I’ve left you messages before. I don’t even know if you get ‘em.” Emily leaned on the wall next to the door, so that Dean wouldn't see her. She didn't want to spy on him or anything, but if she walked out of the bathroom at that moment, he’d have cooked up a lie to pretend he wasn’t calling John for help, as if she didn't know how often he called his dad. “I’m with Sam. And we’re in Lawrence. And there’s something in our old house.” Not even gonna mention me? she thought. Might as well be six feet under. “I don’t know if it’s the thing that killed Mom or not, but…” Dean stopped talking, he sniffed. Was Dean… crying? Big, strong, unaffectionate Dean Winchester? “I don’t know what to do.” Wow. He’s actually crying. Emily considered walking in on him just to humiliate him, but decided she didn't want to start another fight, not with five more hours to drive. “So, whatever you’re doin’, if you could get here. Please. I need your help, dad.” With that, Emily heard Dean sniff one last time and then walk away. She remained in the bathroom a couple more minutes. She knew every minute she was late was going to make Dean more nervous - the five minutes he had said she had were long gone - and eventually, she had to walk back to the car.

“Where were you? I said five minutes,” Dean complained, turning on the engine.

“I was doing hard drugs behind the building,” she said. Dean scoffed, but Sam smiled. “I was just in the bathroom, okay?!” Dean looked at her in the rearview mirror. Crap. “I- I’m having my period.” She lied. Dean shook his head and started driving.

The case felt weird. It felt like Emily wasn't supposed to be there and she was looking at something private, something she had no right to see or be a part of. Sam and Dean made theories, called a psychic to check the house for ghosts, and she stayed back, looking from a distance. Barely said a word. Partly because Dean was still trying to bench her, and partly because she really didn't want to participate. In fact, to only step foot in that house felt so wrong she couldn’t. Invented an excuse and went back to the motel, every single time.

When Sam and Dean came back, muttering about back pain and fire, they barely looked at Emily. Sam glanced at her as he entered and as he fell into bed, just to check that he wasn’t falling on her, and Dean completely ignored her existence for the rest of the night. And the following day. He had a talent for that.

Dead Girl Walking

From Heathers - The Musical

Emily looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and groaned, observing how big and un-fitting the boilersuit Sam had given her was.

“Sam, where on earth did you get this?” she complained, “I look like Harry Potter’s weird sister.”

“I’m sorry, man,” answered Sam, opening a slit in the door to look inside. “but this isn’t a fashion show, okay? We’re on the job.”

“A fashion- What are you talking about?” she asked. “And don't call me ‘man’!” Emily said, walking out of the bathroom. She rummaged in her bag to take out a stapler.

“What do you have that for?” asked Dean, sipping on his coffee. Emily started stripping out of the suite and sat in her underwear on the motel floor.

“Research?” she answered, starting to staple the fabric to make it smaller. “I don’t like scattered paper.” Dean huffed and glared at Sam, a smug, mocking smile forming on his face.

“Well, there's no doubt you two are siblings,” he said.

“Oh, please.” Emily frowned, looking at Sam. “We have nothing in common.” Dean laughed.

“Dude, wake up, you’re literally the same person,” he said.

“Dean-” Sam tried to interject.

“No, I’m just saying- you both took theater classes and you have a stapler in your bag,” he said, “and you’re huge nerds,” Emily looked at Sam again and raised her eyebrows.

“Him?” she asking, pointing at Sam. He crossed his arms.

“You know I got accepted into law school, right?”

“Big deal,” Emily huffed, sliding the stapler across the room and to her bag. The gesture reminded her of how she used to do that with her pointe shoes towards her at the end of every class. “I got accepted into med school.”

“I was into three plays even though I moved every few weeks,” Sam said. Emily raised her eyebrows.

“That’s not a nerd thing, that’s a theater kid thing,” answered Emily, standing up and walking to her bag. “And trust me, you couldn’t beat me at that, either,”

“Oh, really?” said Sam. Emily turned with a smirk. Theater was her thing: there was no way Sam knew more about it than her. “Your favourite musical?” he asked. “And don’t say Wicked, because that doesn’t count,”

“Hey, I am not some commoner, okay? I happen to like Miss Saigon,”

“Miss Saigon?” asked Sam, frowning.

“Yes, Miss Saigon, it’s-”

“...a musical you’re not old enough to watch, that’s what it is,” Sam complained. “Who let you watch that?”

“Okay then, Sweet Charity,”

“What?!” Sam frowned.

“Rent?”

“No!” Sam said, “How about, I don’t know- Mamma mia? Or… anything that is not about sex, prostitution or AIDS?” Emily looked at him and huffed.

“Why?” Emily asked, “Are you too young and impressionable?” A few feet away from her, Dean laughed. Sam opened his mouth as if he was about to speak something, but then sighed, trying to hide a smile, and went to pack his bag.

At the apartment, while Dean and Sam talked with the landlady, Emily took a look around the room.

“You hire them young?” She heard the woman ask. Dean released a huff.

“It’s… uh-” Emily looked away and pretended not to hear anything. “...bring-your-daughter-to-work day,” Sam answered. A few seconds later, just as Emily was taking her EMF meter out of pocket, Dean appeared next to her. She showed him the meter as it pointed to the highest possible value.

“Definitely our kind of thing,” he said as Sam walked past them.

“You guys spoke with the cops, right?” he asked, looking behind his shoulder to check that the landlady was gone.

“I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law.” Dean smirked. Emily crossed her arms. “Well, she’s a Sagittarius. She loves tequila, I mean- wow. Oh, and she’s got this little tattoo-”

“She’s gay, Dean,” Emily said, Dean frowned. “at least, she was last night.” Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. Emily suspected he’d known she wasn't as old as she pretended to be for a while, but he hadn’t said anything. And she wasn’t going to ask, so as long as he kept his fucking golden boy mouth shut, everything was going to be fine.

“I can’t believe this,” said Dean. “You slept with her?”

“What can I say?” Emily smirked. “Girls love me.” She swirled her hair around like she was in a shampoo commercial. Sam shook his head and tried to conceal a smile. Truth was, she had gone out with Amy, but nothing had happened. Amy had questioned her on her age, and she’d left with an excuse. That happened more with girls than with men. Men didn’t seem to care. Of course, Dean didn’t need to know that detail.

“Did you at least find anything out about the case?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. Meredith’s heart was missing,” said Emily. “Maybe a werewolf?”

“No,” said Sam. “Lunar cycle’s not right and…” He looked around, “...locked doors and windows… I think it’s some sort of spirit.” Emily looked at the carpet: the blood formed a familiar shape. She thought she had seen somewhere, but could not pinpoint where.

“Check this out,” she said, hitting Dean's chest with the back of her hand. He turned. “What is that?” She pointed at the blood. Dean put his hands on his waist.

“What?”

“That shape, you see it?” She gestured, leaving Dean more puzzled than before. “Wow, you’re dumb…” Emily whispered and rolled her eyes. “Sam?” she called. Sam’s head appeared from inside the bathroom. “Got some tape?” He nodded and threw her a roll of tape. “I saw it somewhere already,” she said. “I- I think it was in one of Bobby Singer’s books.”

“I wouldn’t know,” said Dean, walking away with an eye roll. “I’m dumb.

Dean was flirting with the bartender while Emily, two stools to the left, pretended not to know him. She had been twirling her whiskey in the glass for a while and had noticed a man looking at her in a rather luxurious way. Ew. I’m way too young for you. Yet, she reciprocated the gaze and sipped the content of her glass. Please… don’t be a creep. She left the stool to go talk to the stranger, but was intercepted by Sam, who had just entered the bar. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her towards a table.

“Sam, I swear to god you and your brother are going to make my balls go blue one of these days.” Sam looked at her, his eyes tightening in confusion. “What?” she asked, sitting next to him.

“You don’t have balls.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on!” she answered. “It’s an expression.” Sam looked back at the man.

“He’s what… forty?” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“Again? I’m old enough!” she said. Sam shook his head and handed her a folder and a pen.

“Vic’s files. Let’s figure out if they’re connected,” he said. Emily took a deep breath and opened the folder. She started tapping the pen on the table. “Dude,” said Sam not longer than three minutes later, stopping her hand.

“So I do have balls,” whispered Emily, moving the tapping from the table to her forehead. Sam glared at her and tried to hide a smile. Dean walked to them and put his hands on the table. He looked, in turn, at both of them.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked, sitting down.

“Sam cockblocked me,” said Emily.

“Welcome to the club,” Dean sighed. He sat and took a file.

“We didn’t come here to hook up, you realize that?” Sam complained, looking up from his file. “Did you get anything from the bartender? Apart from her phone number?” Dean gave him an annoyed look.

“Dude, I’m a professional,” he said. “I’m offended that you’d think that!” Sam remained silent as Dean chuckled and held up a napkin with a phone number on it. Emily smiled.

“Do you mind doing a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain?” said Sam.

“Well, understandably yes if you always prevent us from having fun,” whispered Emily.

“I heard that,” said Sam.

“Bite me,” she said. Sam started biting her arm.

“Jesus, Sam- Stop being so weird!” she said, cleaning her arm on Dean’s flannel.

“You memorized the entire script to Wicked, and I’m the weird one?” Sam shook his head.

“Shut up,” she said, shaking her head. Dean cleared his voice. Emily looked at him and sighed.

“So,” he said. “the vic worked here, she waited tables. Everyone here was her friend. Everyone said she was normal. She didn’t do anything weird before she died. What about the other victim, did you find anything?”

“That’s what we were checking out, but as far as I can tell, there is no connection,” Emily said, handing him the file. She took Sam’s file and started skimming through it.

“The guy was found mutilated in his apartment,” said Sam. “Same deal: locked door, alarm was-” Emily looked up from her file to see why Sam had stopped talking. He was looking at something on the other side of the bar. Emily followed his gaze and turned. It wasn’t something. It was someone.

“Sounds like the only successful intel we scored was the bartender’s number,” said Dean with a grin. Sam stood up and walked towards a blonde girl.

“Oh, no-” said Emily. “Dean, Sam’s about to try and hook up with a giant lesbian,”

“How do you know she’s a lesbian?” Dean frowned.

“I have a superpower,” said Emily. “It’s called a gay-dar.” Dean frowned. “Don't worry, you'll get yours when you also graduate gay school,”

“Funny,” said Dean. “About Amy, the police officer…” Dean moved his shirt away to reveal a hickey. Emily pretended to ignore him and started walking towards Sam. “How was it?” said Dean, leaning closer to her while she followed her. “Right: girls love me.” Emily moved to the side so that Dean could walk next to her, and then hit his shoulder. He grinned.

“Hey Sammy,” Emily said, walking past Dean again and patting Sam on the shoulder a little too hard. “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” The woman looked at her for a second, confused, then smiled.

“Hi, my name is Meg. How do you know Sam?” she asked.

“I- Uh-” Emily kept her fake smile on but dug her nails deeper in Sam’s shoulder. He cleared his voice. “I am his sister, Emily,” she explained. “And this is Dean, our brother.”

“This is Dean?” answered Meg, surprised, not even bothering to look at Emily.

“So, you’ve heard of me?” he asked, a flattered smile forming on his face.

“Oh, yeah. I‘ve heard of you.” Meg nodded. “Nice,” she said. “the way you treat your brother like luggage.” Dean’s expression changed from flattered to confused. “Do you do the same with Emily?” Emily let go of Sam’s shoulder and looked away, trying to hide a laugh.

“Meg, it’s alright,” Sam said. Dean looked at Sam, then he pointed at the bar.

“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to grab another drink.” He pointed to the bar, then turned towards Emily. “You coming?” She hummed in agreement and followed Dean to the bar.

“I thought you said girls love you,” she said, gesturing to the bartender for a drink. Dean huffed.

“I’m sorry-” said the bartender. “Do you have any ID?” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“I beg your pardon?” she said.

“It’s just- I’ve been serving you all night, but- my manager says you look under twenty one,”

“Here.” Emily opened her purse and showed the bartender her fake ID. In the meantime, Dean got served a beer, and Emily put her fake ID back.

“What’s the gay-dar saying?” whispered Dean, eyeing the bartender. As he poured Emily some gin.

“That he’s straight,” said Emily. Dean frowned. “but you know what? Amy was supposed to be as well.” Emily downed her drink and stood up. “Go get him, tiger.” She saw Sam was about to go get Dean, intercepted him and dragged him outside.

“What are we doing?” he asked.

“Letting Dean find a hook up for the night,” Emily said. “who was that girl?” She pointed at Meg.

“I met her a while ago,” Sam answered. “I didn’t think I was going to see her again,” he sighed.

“Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious to bump into her again?”

“I mean-” Sam crossed his arms. “Do you think it was?” he asked. Emily shrugged. Sam seemed in thought. “Endover is really far away from here.”

“Maybe she moved for college,” Emily said. Sam didn't answer.

“Can I ask you a question?” he said. Emily nodded. “So you… have sex, carry a gun, hunt monsters, but I haven't heard you say a single swearword,”

“Dude, what kind of question is that?” she asked. “I’m not- I’m just trying not to be rude!”

“Isn't it rude to be underage drinking?” he asked. Emily smirked and pulled a cigarette out of her pack. “Isn't it rude to smoke, princess?”

“Okay, shut up, dude,”

Emily stared at the symbol they’d found at the victim’s house. She fidgeted with the pen she was holding while Dean was just coming out of the shower after his night out. Sam was out getting lunch.

“I am telling you, I know this symbol,” she said. “I've seen it at Bobby's.” Dean rubbed a towel through his hair.

“Then what is it?” he asked.

“I don't know,” she said. “You know what?” She took her phone and dialed Bobby's number, who answered in a matter of seconds. “Hey Bobby, it's Emily,“ she said, putting the call on speaker.

“Hey sweetheart, everything okay?” At the word ‘sweetheart’, Dean turned around and frowned.

“All good, listen… I'm looking for a book I read there, it was on the bookshelf on the left, next to the door… kind of a small format, uh- I think it was green?” She heard the man walk through his house. Dean walked closer to the table to listen to the phone call.

“Looking,” Bobby said. “What do you need?”

“I am looking for a symbol, kinda looks like a ‘z’, with a circle in the middle.” After a few seconds of silence, Bobby spoke again.

“Looks like you got yourself a Daeva. It's a shadow demon. Nasty stuff,” he said. “You’re not hunting this alone, are you?”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m with Sam and Dean.”

“Good.” The man stopped talking for a moment. “The lore doesn’t mention how to kill it, but I can do some research.” Emily smiled.

“Okay, thanks Bobby,”

“No problem, sweetheart. Ring me up if you're nearby, okay?” he said.

“Will do.” Emily closed the call under Dean’s confused look.

“Sweetheart?” he said. “Bobby Singer calls you sweetheart?” Emily shrugged.

“Yeah, why?” she asked. Dean huffed.

“Bobby Singer doesn’t call people ‘sweetheart’,” he answered. Emily shrugged.

“Are you jealous?” she asked, the hint of a smile on her lips. Dean shook his head. Emily sat back at the table and turned Sam’s laptop towards her.

“So,” said Dean. “How are you doing?” Emily frowned and didn’t take her eyes off the screen.

“Fine,” she said. Dean sighed.

“Are you sure?” Emily turned in her chair to look at him. He had worn his t-shirt halfway through his arms, like he had stopped to look at her.

“Dean, I'm clean,” she said. “You've checked my arms every single day,” Dean finished wearing his t-shirt and dug into his duffel.

“I was thinking-” he said, taking out a flannel.

“Yeah, I am not coming with you tonight,” Emily sighed. “I know the gist,” she said. “getting my shit together and all that jazz.”

“Actually-”

“You know what?” She interrupted Dean and closed the laptop. “It's fine, I get it: if I die because you were not careful enough, dad is going to kill you,” she said.

“I was actually planning on asking you to come with us.” Dean put on his flannel. “but it sounds like you should rest some more.”

“Whatever,” Emily said, standing up. She opened the small window and lit up a cigarette.

“Can you not?” he asked. Emily ignored him. He paced around the room, packing his bag. Emily pulled up a chair and sat down, making sure to extend her arm out the window when she wasn’t smoking. Her legs bounced, hitting the table and making the bottles on it clang.

“Are you okay?” asked Dean, looking at her.

“Jesus Christ- Yeah, I’m okay!” she yelled. A piece of ash flew from the cigarette to her hand. She groaned, trying to shove it off. Dean rolled his eyes. “Forget about it.” A few seconds later, the bottles clanged again.

“Stop,” said Dean. Emily didn’t pay much attention to it, too busy inspecting the burn on her hand, her leg still bouncing. “Emily, I said stop!” Emily rolled her eyes and moved her leg a few inches away, where it wouldn’t hit the table. Dean sighed. “Look-” he said, pinching his nose and squeezed his eyes. “You’re coming with us, get ready.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,” she whispered, her eyes not moving from the cigarette. She didn’t even want to go. But at the same time, she wanted to. First, always staying back when the action was happening was getting boring, and second, Dean always underestimated her, always treated her like she was some idiot. And hunting was the thing Dean valued the most, so if she could prove she was good at that - maybe Dean could have changed his mind.

“Emily.” Dean looked at her. It was a warning. She stood up.

“Jesus Christ-” she groaned, killing the cigarette on the window ledge. “Okay, I’m getting ready.” Just as she opened her backpack, Dean’s phone started ringing. He picked up and put the call on speaker.

“I know who is summoning the Daeva,” said Sam’s voice. “It’s Meg.” Emily bit the inside of her cheek, trying to stop herself from saying ‘I told you so’. “She was using some sort of altar to control it.”

“Do you think she was talking with the thing?” asked Dean. Emily threw her t-shirt in the backpack and took out a clean one.

“No, it was different,” said Sam. “Someone was giving her orders. Someone who is coming right here.” Emily mentally scanned all the files again and flinched as Dean jotted down the address and closed the call.

“You all good?” asked Dean. Emily blinked and turned towards him. It was probably nothing. All the victims being born in the same place as Sam and Dean? That made no sense, right? She wasn’t born in Lawrence, she was born in Portland. So, that had to be a coincidence.

“Yeah,” she said. Dean went to pack his bag, but Emily didn’t move. He glared at her.

“You sure?” It didn’t make sense. John said her mother was killed by the same thing that killed Mary. Lawrence was not a part of the puzzle. It was just a freak coincidence. Emily shook her head and went to finish packing. A few minutes later Dean had his boots on and was waiting next to the door.

“There’s one thing,” Emily said. Dean looked at her. “Something I thought of just now.” Dean frowned. “All- all the victims, they- they were born in the same place,”

“What are you talking about?” asked Dean.

“They were all born in Lawrence,” she said. She closed her eyes. It was probably nothing, but she would have never heard the end of it if it turned out to be important and someone found out she knew.

“You- you weren’t, right?” Dean asked. “Dad said-”

“Portland, yeah,” Emily said. Dean looked away for a moment before putting his hand in his pocket.

“I'm gonna go call dad," he said. "You get ready."

Emily looked behind her to check nobody was following them. Sam, a few steps in front of her, pointed to a door. Dean walked past it and leaned on the wall to its left, while Sam leaned to its right.

“Dean,” Emily said. “can I get my gun back?” Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Dean had been holding onto her gun ever since the hospital had happened. It had been more than two months. “Come on, I can’t walk in there unarmed!” Dean rolled his eyes and took Emily’s gun - really, Dean’s old gun - out of the back of his jeans. Then, they entered. Emily followed Sam. They sneaked through the first floor and then started walking upstairs. At every step, Emily’s heart seemed to beat louder. She could feel it pounding in her chest and wondered if anybody else could hear it. She loaded her gun, followed by Sam, who was walking a few steps behind her, checking behind them. They heard Meg’s voice as she talked with someone. As she sneaked behind a crate she realized they had no idea what they were up against, or if their guns were of any use. They only had a theory - destroying the altar Meg was using could have worked. Emphasis on ‘could’.

“Guys,” said Meg’s voice. Emily rolled her eyes. She turned towards Dean. “Hiding is a little childish, don’t you think?” Dean came out of hiding. Emily and Sam followed. “Sam…” said Meg with a smug smile “I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Where’s your little Daeva friend?” he said.

“Around,” she said with a smirk. “Those shotguns are not gonna do much, you know?”

“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. The shotgun is not for the demon,” answered Dean. Emily felt the blood rush through her veins and her heart beat faster. As the realization they really had nothing against the demons settled in, Meg raised her hand. Emily’s body went flying until it hit the wall.

When she came to her senses, she was tied up to a column. From all the time she’d spent with the Winchesters, she knew better than to show fear. She did her best to swallow the knot in her throat and to attempt to slow her breathing down. Don’t cry. She said to herself. It’s going to make everything so much worse. Emily looked around and saw Sam was awake. He turned towards her. His eyes widened. Meg started walking towards them just as Dean was starting to wake up. She smiled at the sight of the three siblings tied up and helpless.

“What a beautiful sight,” she said.

“It was all a trap, right?” said Sam, anger filling up his voice. “Running into you at the bar, following you here. It was all a setup.” The woman laughed.

“You’re a smart boy,”

“Did the Lawrence thing mean anything?”

“No, it was just to draw the three of you here… And oh, how good it worked.” Emily swallowed the knot in her throat.

“Well, good job, you got us. Now what?” she said, trying to hide the shaking in her voice.

“Look, the little one speaks,” said Meg, leaning towards Emily until they were a couple of centimeters apart. Emily held her breath. “Now, kid, we wait.” When Meg moved away, Emily looked over at Sam. Please, have a plan. Sam looked over at her again, but Meg started talking with Dean. “You dad is very good at hiding,” she said, straddling Dean’s legs. “But he has one, big weakness.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Dean. “What’s that?”

“Damn, you are not as smart as everyone says you are,” she whispered in his ear. “You. And I happen to know for sure that he’s in town. I’m sure he won’t resist trying to save you.” Meg stood back up. “And when he will, the Daevas will kill everybody, nice, slow and messy.” Emily’s heart skipped a beat. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing.

“Enough with the villain monologue!” she said. Her voice seemed to make Meg angrier. “Why are you doing this?” Meg walked to Emily, looked at her for a second, then slapped her.

“Did your mother not teach you to be quiet when the grownups are talking?” Emily’s blood felt like it was on fire.

“Don’t you dare mentioning my mother, you-” she got slapped again. Frustrated and helpless, she tried to kick Meg, struggling against the post she was tied to. The woman walked back and enjoyed the scene, smiling.

“I am doing this… because of the same reasons you do what you do,” Meg said. She stopped walking. “Loyalty. Love. Like the one you felt for little Alex.” She faked a sad face. Emily’s breath became heavier as she tried to set herself free. She felt Sam’s gaze on her.

“Go to hell,” he said. Meg made her way to Sam and straddled him.

“Oh baby, I’m already there.” She leaned in, stopping only half an inch away from Sam’s lips. “You know… I saw you watching me, changing in my apartment… I know it turned you on.”

“Jesus Christ-” Emily rolled her eyes, trying to shake away that terrible image from her face.

“Come on, Sammy, you and I can still have a little dirty fun.” Emily tried to ignore Meg’s words and closed her eyes. Calm down. She said to herself. Think. Fucking think.

“You wanna have fun?” said Sam. He then looked at Emily and gave her a look. Great, what the hell is that supposed to mean?! She thought to herself, panic growing bigger in her chest. Then, she remembered. She had a literal ace in her sleeve. She had a knife. Trying to be as quiet as possible, Emily started to cut away the rope that was tying her to the post. She was about halfway done and Meg was still having her fun on Sam’s lap, kissing him and grinding on him. With a metal sound, the room went quiet. Crap. Crap, crap, crap- Emily tightened her grip on her knife and put it back in her sleeve. Meg stood up and walked over to Dean, on the other side of the room. Emily glared at Sam and he gave her another look. Unlike the previous time, Emily knew what to do.

“Were you trying to distract me while your brother cut himself free?” said Meg, angry. She kicked Dean’s knife away. In the meantime, Emily was trying her best to move as little as possible, while still cutting as fast as possible. She let the rope come almost loose, and she stopped. She put the knife away, leaving a quarter of an inch of rope to cut. She knew if she cut herself free, Meg would have been able to notice that. After checking on Dean, she walked in front of Sam and then reached Emily’s post. Meg leaned forward. Emily’s breath came to a halt again. Come on now- She thought. You have the upper hand this time.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,“ she said. “I am letting you grownups do all the talking.” She set herself free and punched Meg. The woman fell onto the floor, giving Emily one second of advantage to stand up and leap towards the altar. Meg managed to grab Emily’s ankle, the same one she had broken not too long before, and make her fall on her knees. Before Meg could drag her back, Emily latched onto the black tablecloth and crashed the altar on the floor. Still trying to stand back up, Emily saw several shadows appear on the walls and attack Meg. She started screaming, in pain, as the shadows dragged her towards the windows. She held Emily's ankle for several feet, but in the end Meg let go and fell out of the building. Emily dragged herself away from the window. She emitted a long, exasperated sigh and closed her eyes.

“Emily, do you mind…” said Sam, struggling to set himself free. Emily stood up and tried to ignore her legs shaking. She walked over to Sam and set him free. She then laid down on the floor and stared at the ceiling. Sam set Dean free, but he kept gazing over to Emily.

“Are you okay?” asked Dean when he was free. He offered her his hand to stand back up.

“I need a second,” Emily said, pushing away Dean’s hand.

“What?”

“Jesus- I said I need a second!” she repeated.

“Okay but… for what?”

“To knit a scarf- What does it look like?!” She snapped.

“Dean-” Sam tried to interject.

“What are you talking about?” asked Dean,ignoring his brother. “We have to go!” Dean tried to make her stand up, Sam tried to stop him, but it was already too late. Something snapped and Emily started crying. She crossed her arms and kept staring at the ceiling, stubborn, while tears streamed down her face. She sniffed.

“I’m not going to carry you to the car,” said Dean. “Stand up.” Emily scowled at him, sitting up. She held her breath in, trying to control her sobbing. She angrily dried her face and started marching towards the door. “See? It wasn’t that hard.”

“Dean, come on,” whispered Sam, nervously walking down the stairs. They sneaked towards their car and Dean started driving. Emily dried up her face and took her usual seat in the back of the Impala, leaning on the door. She cleared her throat and sat there, arms crossed. Dean checked her -from time to time- in the rearview mirror, but didn't say anything until they arrived at the motel.

“Good job today, Emily,” he said, looking at her through the mirror. “Definitely saved our asses out there.” She reciprocated his gaze for a split second before grabbing her backpack.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” she whispered. Her throat was still sore. Emily stepped out of the car and walked towards the room. She rummaged in her pockets for the key and groaned. Her hands were shaking, so putting the key in the door felt impossible. Dean and Sam were right behind her.

“But look, you can't start crying like that,” said Dean. “You need to learn how to-”

“Shut up,” she said, shoving the key in and opening the door. Dean stopped her while Sam rolled his eyes and walked past them, entering the room.

“Look, I get it: it’s hard. But you can’t-”

“You what?! You don’t get it! I had everything I ever wanted. I had a proper house, I had friends, I was four years ahead of kids my age, you- do you know how many people can pull that off?! And for what?! Just for my whole life to go up in flames!” she said. “And you were supposed to be my newfound family and look how’s that going!” Dean huffed.

“You’re free to go if I make your life so miserable!” he said, raising his voice.

“And where would I go?! I didn't want this! I wanted to be a surgeon!”

“Guys-” Sam tried to interject.

“Shut up, Sam!” “Sam, shut up!” Emily and Dean said. They scowled at each other.

“You don’t get to tell me that you understand what I am going through.” Emily pushed Dean, who landed on the doorframe.

“Oh, I don’t?!” huffed Dean.

“Guys!” said Sam again, louder than before. Emily closed her eyes, trying to recollect herself. She took a deep breath and turned around.

“What?!”

“I think we have company,” he whispered. Sam pointed at the other side of the room, where a figure was leaning, in the dark, on the wall. Emily reached for her gun and Dean turned on the light. A familiar voice she hadn't heard in a long time resounded in the room.

“I see you two are still fighting.” Everything stood still. That was John. Emily’s stomach dropped. She had not seen John in almost a year, but his voice wasn't one she could ever forget. She did not move. Dean lost any interest in the fight he and Emily were having and walked to hug his father. Emily glared over at Sam. He was frozen in place, shocked by the sight of his father.

“Dad?” was all Emily could utter. Sam dropped his duffel on the floor, making the weapons clank on each other. John walked past him and straight to Emily. She drew her in a hug that- for some reason- made Emily’s body stiffen up. She frowned, unable to reciprocate. John still had his signature beer and sweat scent she hated so much.

“Dad, it was a trap. I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” said Dean. John let go of Emily.

“It’s all right. I thought it might’ve been.” Emily, free from the hug, crossed her arms and started to click the rubber band.

“So… you were there?” asked Dean.

“Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive.” John looked around. “She was the bad guy, right?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean and Sam answered in unison. Emily remained silent. John glared at her, but didn't reprimand her.

“Good. Well, it doesn’t surprise me. It’s tried to stop me before.”

“The demon?” asked Sam. John nodded.

“It knows I’m close,” he said. “It knows I’m gonna kill it. Not just exorcize it or send it back to hell… actually kill it.” Emily glared at Sam, raising her eyebrows.

“How?” asked Dean.

“I’m working on that,” John said. Sam took a step forward.

“Let us come with you!” he said. “We’ll help.”

“No, Sam, not yet,” John answered. “Try to understand: this demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Dad, you don't have to worry about us,” Sam complained. Dean crossed his arms.

“Of course I do. I’m your father.” John released a sigh. “Listen- Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight.” Emily clicked the rubber band on her wrist. Click. “It's good to see you again. It's been a long time.” Click. Sam and John hugged. Emily saw Dean open his mouth to say something, but then felt a force throwing her through the bathroom door. A shadow towered her and scratched her, leaving deep marks on her abdomen and arms. She screamed. Her ears started ringing. The sound of her heart beating was the only thing that came through until a bright light invaded the room and a hand dragged her out of the motel. She found herself in the backseat of a car. She opened her eyes just enough to recognize the Impala. The car started. Emily looked down at herself. You’re fine. She thought to herself as she saw the blood soak her overalls. No need to panic. But it was too late. Emily felt the familiar tingling sensation on her face and her breath growing short. No, come on- don’t do this right now. You’re okay. Sam and Dean were arguing in the front seat, not paying any attention to Emily and her panic attack. Of course not. At least, not until Sam turned towards her, probably asking something. But Emily couldn’t hear it. She stared in front of her, trying to pace her breathing.

“Emily?” said Sam’s voice. He sounded like he was in another room. Emily heard more fighting, only understanding bits and pieces. “We need to stop-” “...far enough-” She was nauseous, more and more every second. Just as she was about to vomit, the car came to a sudden halt. Emily rushed out of the car and stumbled to the ground. Sam appeared next to her to help her hair back.

“It’s alright, we’re safe now,” he said. The car engine was still going. When she turned towards the car, she saw Dean looking around and tapping on the steering wheel.

“Sam, we need to go!” he called.

“Enough, Dean, she-” Sam tried to stand up to go speak to Dean, but Emily grabbed his wrist. Please don’t leave me. She thought. Please don’t leave me here. “Dean, your sister is sick, care to show some compassion?” Sam said, looking back at the car.

“I’m trying to save her life, care to collaborate?”

“Dean-”

“We’ll all be dead if we don’t leave!” Something snapped in Emily’s brain.

“JUST GIVE ME FIVE FUCKING MINUTES!” she yelled. Her voice came out distorted, hoarse. “Jesus Christ, Dean, when will you worry about the right thing? WHEN?!” She stood up and took a step towards the car. She felt the nausea intensify and held on to the car to vomit. Sam walked past her and around the car. Emily slid down the side of the car, tears starting to stream down her face. She heard indistinguishable whispers and the sound of Dean coming out of the car. He appeared next to her.

“Alright, enough now-” Dean tried to force her off the ground. Emily resisted.

“Stop!” she said. “Don’t-”

“We don’t have time for this, just-”

“I said no!” Emily tried to fight Dean back, but he grabbed her by the arm and forced her to stand. “Dean, let me go!” Dean threw her in the backseat and lifted her shirt to see her wound. He frowned.

“You’ll be fine,” he said. Emily failed to hide a sob. “And stop crying.”

“Damn it, Dean-” said Sam. Dean turned.

“What?” Emily didn’t know what Sam’s look for Dean meant, but he must have, because he rolled his eyes and left. Emily looked at Sam, feeling the nausea catching up with her again. Sam moved just in time before Emily vomited right outside the car. The world started spinning and her ears started to ring.

Emily woke up in a motel room. The panic was gone, but were replaced by a horrible sense of starvation and thirst. She also had a terrible headache, and her nose, which she didn’t recall being painful, hurt. A lot. All the wounds the Daeva inflicted also were stinging for the sweat she was covered in. The first person she saw was Dean. He was sitting at the motel table, looking at the opposite wall, and was reading an old-looking book.

“Fuck you,” was what Emily meant to say, but all she was able to do was let out a groan. Enough for Dean to notice her.

“Look who’s awake,” he said, standing up. He handed her a bottle of water. “Are you feeling better?” Emily ignored the question and drank the water. “I bet it you’re thirsty, kid, you’ve been out two days.” She stopped the bottle in front of her lips, raising her eyebrows. “Thought you were gone for good for a hot second.”

“You’re the one who said I was going to be fine, not me.”

“Oh, no, I mean gone gone, like Girls, Interrupted gone.” Emily frowned. “Well, while you are awake, it’s time to change that bandage.” Dean walked towards a duffel bag in the corner.

“Those things got you good.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Again, you’re the one who said-”

“Well, I was right, wasn’t I? You’re here.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you.”

“Who do you think patched you up? Because it was not Sam for sure. He was busy keeping you still.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked.

“You put up quite a fight.”

“Dean, I passed out.” Emily scoffed.

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Not sure what you mean by being passed out, but that was not it. Look.” He rolled up his sleeve, showing what looked like claw marks on his forearm. “I had to punch you in the nose to make you stop.”

“Well, that explains the pain,” she said, touching her nose. “I would be lying if I said you didn’t have it coming.” Dean remained silent. Emily looked down at her abdomen. Dental floss. Of course Sam and Dean used a Winchester-style “dressing” - if it could even be considered as such. “Jesus Christ, Dean, who did this? Dr. Frankenstein?” she said, “I got medical supplies in my bag. Take those.”

Sam came back into the room a few minutes later, holding a plastic bag filled with what seemed to be very cheap take out. Dean left his place over Emily’s wound, and Sam sat at his place instead.

“So,” he said. ”Were you really four years ahead of your class?” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Come on, do you really want to do this right now?”

“Just curious.” Sam attempted a smile. “And right now you can’t run, so…” Emily huffed. “You always say you’re twenty, but, you know- math is telling me something else.” Emily looked around for a way to change the subject. Everybody treated her as a kid enough as it was, she was never going to hear the end of it if she gave away her age. “Come on, stop avoiding the question,” said Sam. “Just tell us.”

“By the way, I never said I was twenty. I always say I’m old enough. But if you really have to know, I’m fifteen.” Sam raised his eyebrows and looked at Dean.

“You’re what?!” Dean said.

“Dude!” said Sam. “I told you there was no way she was twenty!”

“How was I supposed to know?!” Dean answered. “Dad had me drop her off on her first day of junior year, I did my math!” Emily scoffed. Sam covered her wound and stood up.

“So you were one of those gifted children?” asked Sam. Emily sighed.

“Yeah,” she said, looking away. “Yeah, I was.” Dean remained silent for a few minutes.

“Wait,” he said. “In the past year I brought you to bars. You hooked up with people. You hooked up with Amy, that- that police officer in Hibbing!”

“Yeah,” she lied. “And?”

“Emily, that’s not okay. You’re a kid. You’re not supposed to have sex.” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t lose your virginity way too early,” she said, “I’ll actually go ahead and guess: you lost it in a bathroom stall with a girl with some basic name. Like… Heather.”

“God, you’re a smartass.” Dean huffed. Emily crossed her arms and stared at him. Sam covered his mouth, failing to hide a chuckle. “Okay- But that’s different.”

“Why?! Because I’m a girl?” she scoffed.

“Yeah, that’s- that’s the reason! You’re a girl. Men take advantage of girls like you all the time!”

“Speaking from experience?” Emily said. Sam laughed.

“Ouch-” he said, looking at Dean. “That must have hurt.”

“Fuck off- both of you!” Dean shook his head and stood up. “I’ll go grab you some meds,” he said. “Or maybe I’ll actually grab some sedative so I can shut you up.” Sam walked to the table and handed Emily a box of take out just as Dean left the room.

“Here, I was going to have this but I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Sam smiled. “By the way,” he said. “I can't believe you said a bad word.” Sam smirked and Emily shook her head. “I was like - really? 'Fucking'? That's over the line.”

“Funny," she said. “Real funny.”

Requiem

From Dear Evan Hansen

Emily dragged her hand across her face and grabbed a fry off of Sam’s plate.

“I can’t believe dad’s gone again and we can’t even find a decent gig.” There was a hint of boredom in her voice: while she didn't necessarily like hunting, she also couldn't stand going around doing absolutely nothing.

“I thought you’d be happy to have some vacation,” said Dean, eyeing Sam’s fries that had been sitting untouched in his plate for over twenty minutes. “Are you…” He moved his hand above Sam’s plate. Sam pushed the plate towards Dean with a sigh and went back to his laptop.

“This isn’t vacation. This is torture,” said Emily. “All we’ve done the past two weeks is pool scams. We keep going like this, there isn’t going to be a single bar in Minnesota we can enter.”

“I mean, we’ve got some extra money, we can treat ourselves,” Sam said with a smile. “Maybe we can go to Broadway.” Emily opened her mouth to talk, her eyes widening in excitement, but Dean was quicker.

“We’re not going to Broadway. We’ve made 200 bucks- at best. That’s barely enough for gas.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“So we can’t work, but we also can’t have fun. How’s that fair?” she complained, stealing a fry from Dean's newly acquired plate. He scowled at her, moving the plate closer to him.

“I think I’ve got something.,” said Sam, turning his laptop. “A man named Daniel Elkins, in Colorado, was mauled in his home. The police cannot figure it out.”

“Did you say Elkins?” said Dean. The interest in Sam's friend died quickly, and Emily moved the plate towards her. “I think I’ve heard that name before.” Dean grabbed John’s journal from his inner pocket and flipped through it. “Here.” He turned it towards Sam. Emily leaned over the table to look at the journal, which read: D Elkins, 970-555-0158 in a corner.

“You think dad's sending us on a treasure hunt again?” she asked, sitting back down and chewing on another fry.

“No,” Dean said. “But it's worth checking out.”

Sam lockpicked the door to Elkins’ cabin while Dean and Emily stood guard, making sure nobody was watching them. They all turned on their flashlights while entering.

“Looks like the maid didn’t come in today,” said Dean with a frown. The cabin had been rummaged inside out, broken lamps, a hole in the roof, scratches on the floor and drawers torn apart. Windows and doors were protected with salt.

“Do you think this guy was a hunter?” asked Emily, touching the salt.

“Maybe he's just on a high sodium diet,” Dean answered, walking past her. She pushed him. “Hey, ask stupid questions, get stupid answers,” he continued, looking back at her.

“High sodium diets are not a thing,” Emily said. “Sodium makes you bloat, how do you not know this?” Dean looked at her and smirked.

“I'm not a chick,” he answered.

“Th-”

“Cut it out,” Sam complained. “Look what I got here.” Emily turned to look at him. He was holding a journal that looked like the one John had: it was old and made of leather, pages often had something glued on them or had been slightly ruined with time. Textbook hunter journal, from her limited experience. Sam opened it. “This dates way farther than dad’s. It’s from the sixties.” Dean said, handing the journal to Sam. Whoever was in there last was looking for something. As Emily walked away to inspect the house, a scratch on the wood pavement got Emily’s attention. It seemed to form numbers and letters. She flashed her light at it, but they were unclear. Dean appeared next to her.

“Here,” he said, taking out a piece of paper. “Got a pen?” Emily opened her backpack and handed him her entire pencil case. “Nerd.” With a smirk, Dean grabbed a pencil and used it to get the outline: it was a sequence of letters and numbers, similar to what John often left them to indicate coordinates.

Sam and Emily walked in the post office the coordinates pointed to and emptied Daniel Elkins’ drop box. They found a single item: an envelope, marked JW, as in John Winchester.

“Or Johnatan Weiner. No way to tell for sure,” joked Emily.

“You know what?” Sam chuckled. “I’ll give you five hundred dollars if it is.” They walked out of the post office and sat in the Impala. “Should we open it?” said Sam. Just at that moment, someone knocked on the car window. They turned, scared, just to see John.

“Dad- what are you doing here?!” Emily said, leaning over Sam's legs to open the window. John opened the door and unceremoniously folded the front seat over Sam and Emily's backs to sit in the back: a common practice in the Winchester family which she hated more than she hated the fact they refused to get a modern car.

“Are you okay?” Sam turned in his seat to look at his dad.

“I’m okay,” John answered. “I read the news about Daniel and I got here as fast as I could. I saw you at his place.” Emily frowned.

“Wh- Why didn’t you come in?!” she asked.

“I was making sure you weren’t followed. By anything, or anyone,” said John. “Where’s Dean?”

“He’s- back at the motel. He drove all night, he’s resting,” said Sam. “We just came here to-”

“You two shouldn’t be hunting by yourselves.” Emily frowned.

“Dad, this isn’t hunting,” she complained. “We didn’t even need to go undercover, we had Elkins’ combination,”

“You’re not ready to be out here alone, Emily.” John repeated. “You k-”

“I’m not ready to go to the post office alone?” she asked.

“Now, give me the address to the motel,” John said, completely ignoring her. “I’ll meet you down there.” Without letting Emily complain any further, he folded the seat again, stepped out of the car and walked towards his truck.

Emily entered the motel and kicked Dean’s bed. He answered with a groan.

“Wake up, recruit,” she said. “Sergeant’s here.” Dean sat in his bed. Before John was able to walk in the room, Dean was already standing up.

“Did you let Sam and Emily hunt by themselves?”

“Again?” said Sam. “Dad, we weren’t hunting, we just went to pick something up from the post office. Are we not old enough to do that either?”

“I’m just saying it’s not safe,” said John. Dean brushed his face with his hand. Emily scoffed.

“You’re right, dad,” Dean answered. “Sorry-”

“What?!” said Emily. She looked over to Sam, who was biting the inside of his cheek, nervous.

“Whatever,” said John. Emily scoffed again, earning a scowl from his father. Strike two. Three, counting the fact she'd just called him sergeant. “Give me the letter.” Sam took the letter out of his pocket and gave it to John. He sat on the bed. Upon touching it, he must have felt it warm because he looked at Dean and shook his head. He opened the letter. Emily crossed her arms and took two steps back to stop next to Sam.

“Coffee?” she sighed. Sam nodded but didn’t turn. He was staring at John. Emily grabbed a cup from the motel’s counters and filled it from the coffee machine. It was barely warm, but she handed Sam the cup. He didn’t react at all. She placed it on the table next to him and walked back to fill another cup to hand to Dean. There was nothing she wanted less than having to deal with an uncaffeinated Dean.

“Thanks kid,” he said, a weirdly surprised expression on his face. He drank a sip of coffee, then turned. “Are you not gonna have any?” he asked. Emily hesitated.

“We’re out of mugs,” she shrugged and looked towards Sam. He didn’t answer. Dean frowned. He was just about to speak, when John broke his silence.

“They have it,” he said. Emily frowned.

“What?” she said.

“The gun. They have it. We have to pick up the trail.” Emily looked at Sam, than at Dean, but either of them looked back at her.

“What gun? Is it important?” asked Sam. “And who is ‘they’?”

“Yes It’s important, because I said so,” said John. Emily cracker her fingers, nervous, and John immediately scowled at her. She slowly moved her hands apart.

“Dad-” Sam tried to complain, but there was no complaining with John.

“Enough. We need to get ready.” He said. It wasn't a request, it was an order. It always was with him. “Dean, y-”

“For what?” asked Sam, upset. He put down the coffee and walked towards John. “See, here’s the problem! Stop- stop it with the cryptic message and tell us what we’re going after!” John looked at Sam without losing control of a single muscle on his face.

“Elkins’ specialty,” he said. “Vampires.” ^[a]

She spent the night with Dean, being taught how to use a machete. At first, Emily thought it was a joke. According to John, she wasn't old enough to go to the post office alone, but also, according to John, she was old enough to behead vampires. Make it make sense. Dean didn't give a sign of enjoying teaching her, not even for a second.

“Not like that,” he complained. “Look.” Dean proceeded to do the exact same thing she'd just done. “You need to go hard.”

“Yeah, sorry I don't have the muscles or testosterone of a twenty six year old man,” she whispered. “Look, it's two in the morning, can we just go to sleep?”

“Not until you do it right,” he said. “Trust me, you'd be glad you have muscle memory when you’ll need it.”

“Wouldn't it be best if I just stayed home?” she complained. “I'm obviously not good at this!”

“Dad said you're coming, so you're coming,” he said. “I don't call the shots when he's here.”

The following morning John woke Emily and her brothers up and rushed them to leave. Before she had the time to realize what was happening, they were already at a crime scene. Not a single explanation, just an order to stay in the car. Emily waited until he couldn’t see her anymore and put both feet on the seat. Dean was too focused on studying John’s moves to notice.

“This is stupid,” said Emily. “We’ve always been fine at crime scenes.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Can we not? Please?” Emily was about to answer, but saw John walk back towards the car and hurried to put down her feet and dust off the leather. Dean looked at her and rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

“They are heading west, we should move,” he said. Dean nodded and looked at Sam, expecting him to start the engine. His hands hovered over the keys for a moment. Dean had let him drive after fighting him for twenty minutes on their way there.

“How do you know?” Sam asked, looking at John through the open window.

“Sam-” Dean tried to interject, but Sam insisted.

“I just want to know if we are going in the right direction!” he complained.

“We are,” said John. He then stayed silent, looking at Sam. “Any other questions?” When Sam didn’t answer, John proceeded to walk back to his car and drive away. As Sam merged into the road, mumbling something under his breath, Dean threw Emily Elkins’ journal they had found at the cabin. She got hit in the face before she could even react to it.

“See what you can find on vampires,” Dean said. Emily rolled her eyes and kicked off her right shoe to put her foot up on the seat. She kept reading in silence until she found a paragraph that seemed relevant.

“Okay, listen to this, vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food...Uh- Victims are taken to the nest, where the pack keeps them alive for weeks or days...” She looked up at Dean. “I wonder if that’s what happened to the couple.” Dean nodded, but Sam was still staring at the road in front of him, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel.

“Yeah, maybe dad thinks that too,” he said. “Of course, it would be nice if he told us so.” Emily saw Dean roll his eyes through the rearview mirror and went back to the journal. “By the way, you could have backed me up, you know?” he said. Emily took a second to notice he was talking with her. When Dean didn’t answer, she lifted her eyes off the pages and frowned.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked.

“Yeah- with dad. Nothing’s ever going to change if I'm the only one who complains,” Sam said. Emily frowned. Jury still wasn't out on Sam, and he wanted her to back him up?

“And what? Get him mad at me, too?” she scoffed. “No offense, but absolutely not.”

“Why not?!” Sam asked, turning to look at her for a moment. “He shouldn’t treat us like that, and you know it!”

“Has it ever occurred to you that my main concern might be how not to get killed by a vampire right now?” she asked. Sam shook his head. “I practiced until three in the morning yesterday and I couldn't get it right! So no, I don't care if we're going in the right direction!”

“Cool- so you’re on Dean’s side now?” he asked. Emily tried to answer. “Everything goes as long as we manage to kill the bad guy?!”

“That's not what I said, I-” her voice started to crack.

“Come on, he treats us like children! All he does is bark orders, we are not even allowed to ask questions!” Emily swallowed and forced herself to not sound like she was about to cry.

“Did you forget to go to your comprehension classes at Stanford?” she asked. “I just said-”

“Didn’t need to say it!”

“Oh, right, so it’s a pragmatics issue?” she asked. Dean looked back at her, confused. “You think it’s implied or something like that?” Emily looked at Sam and he shook his head, muttering something under his breath. “What the hell is your problem?!” she asked.

“Dean’s right about you,” he hissed, looking out the window to change lanes. “It’s impossible to talk with you.” Emily opened her mouth to answer and looked at Dean, about to get mad at him, too, but his phone started to ring, so she decided to keep going with Sam.

“I’m just trying to exist!” she yelled. Dean gestured at her to stay silent and answered the phone. She ignored him. “Look- I’m not happy about it either, but I’m not gonna get fucking killed because you don’t like how dad runs things!”

“Will you shut the fuck up?!” asked Dean, putting his phone on his chest to cover the microphone, nervous. Emily rolled her eyes. She dried her face. “Sorry dad, what did you say?” Dean scowled at her. “Alright- got it.” He closed the call. “Pull off at the next exit,” he said to Sam.

“Why?” Sam asked. Emily closed her eyes and leaned back into the backseat.

“Who cares?” she yelled. “Just pull off!”

“You know what?” Sam answered, his blinker not even on. “Fuck off, okay? I tried to be nice to you! I tried!” Emily looked at the exit sign getting closer. She looked at Dean. They weren't gonna make it. “Now I get why Dean’s being such an asshole to you-” Seeing that Sam wasn’t turning, Emily leaned on the front seats and turned the steering wheel, almost causing them to crash. Sam stopped the car on the side of the road and turned to look at her.

“Are you insane?!” Dean yelled.

“He was going to miss the turn!”

“Yeah- and you almost killed us!” he answered. “Emily, you can’t do stuff like that!”

“He’s the one who wouldn’t take the fucking exit!” John’s truck pulled over behind them, and Sam opened the door and walked towards it.

“Crap, here we go-” said Dean, giving one last look at Emily before following Sam out. “Stay in the car.” Emily ignored him and folded the front seat to step out of the car. She caught up with Dean and walked past him. He tried to call her, but she ignored him and went straight to Sam, adrenaline rushing through her body and yelling at her to punch him, straight in the nose. She felt Dean’s hand try to keep her away, but her arm slid through his fingers. She pushed Sam to get his attention. He turned.

“What the hell is your problem?!” she yelled and pushed him again. She felt steps behind him and her father’s hand on her shoulder. She shoved it away. Sam was ignoring her, staring at a point behind her, where her father was standing. “HEY!” Sam didn’t take his eyes off John. “I’M TALKING TO YOU!”

“I just want some answers,” he said, still not bothering to look at her.

“Aw, is that it?” she asked, shoving another hand away. “The golden boy wants to know which way to go?” Sam looked at her.

“You know what? Why am I even arguing with you?” he asked. “You're just a kid looking for attention.”

“I’m not a kid and I am not looking for anything!” she complained. “If anything, you're-”

“You sure?” Sam asked. “Go on then, show dad your arms! See what he has to say about that!” Emily then shut her fist, ready to strike Sam. Dean intervened. He moved in the middle of the two siblings, moving Sam away while John did the same with his daughter. But in a matter of moments, Emily realised John wasn't trying to hold her back, he was trying to yank her sleeve up. Unable to set herself free from John’s hold on her wrist, all she could do was look away as he stared at her arm.

“What is this?” he asked, turning her arm towards her. Her shoulder cracked and she hissed. “So?”

“Since when do you care?” she asked.

“Since it has been brought to my attention,” John answered. He kept her forearm turned towards her, hurting her shoulder. She tried to look at Dean for help, but he didn't move. Her stomach closed. She was on her own for that one. Everything stood silent for a second, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re really trying to tell me you never noticed?!” she asked, trying not to cry. “All the blood stains on my shirts didn’t really tip you off?”

“You are a grown woman, I expect you to-”

“I’M NOT A GROWN WOMAN!” she screamed, tears spilling out of her eyes. “AND HOW ABOUT MY EXPECTATIONS?!” She pointed at herself with her free arm. “I EXPECTED YOU TO BE MY DAD!” Just like that, her arm got set free, but just because John needed his hand to slap her. There were some lines nobody could cross with John Winchester, and one of them was to question his parenting abilities. And she knew that going into the fight. She put a hand on her cheek, the heat from the slap still on it as she felt the skin get swollen. She stood there, mind blank, not knowing what to do. She was about to cry, but that was the last thing she wanted to do. Crying meant he'd won. And she couldn't let him have it.

“You better start showing me some respect, young lady-”

“I thought I was supposed to be a grown woman,” she whispered, starting to walk towards the Impala.

“I’m not done with you!” Yelled John. Emily stopped and turned.

“You know why I keep acting like a kid?” she asked. She looked at Dean. He sighed. “Because that's what I am!” she yelled “You giving me a fake id and a gun doesn't make me an adult! You wanna treat me as such? Fine! But then how I deal with my pain is my own business, so leave me alone!” She turned around again and walked towards the car, which sat idle on the side of the street with both doors open. She heard Dean say something to his dad, and before she could reach the car, another hand stopped her.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled, turning around to see Dean was the one trying to stop her.

“W-”

“I said-” she stopped talking, distracted by John and Sam, who were fighting a few feet away.

“Sam, is there something you want to tell me?” John asked. Dean looked at Emily, then behind him, and let her go and walked back towards Sam.

“That's an understatement,” said Sam. Emily's legs started to shake and she found herself unable to walk back to the car. She stood there.

“Sammy, we should do this later,” Dean said, but neither John nor Sam answered.

“I want answers,” said Sam. “Last time we saw you, you told us it was too dangerous to be together.” Emily dried her face, trying to stay silent so that she could calm down and maybe get back to the car. And maybe drive it away. And maybe never have to see the Winchesters again. Dean turned towards her and saw her, and for a split second she almost thought he wanted to walk back to her. But of course, she was wrong. “Now you want our help?” Sam continued. “Why? There is obviously something big going on!”

“How many times do I have to tell you that there is no fighting while on a hunt?” said John. “Now get back in the car.”

“No,” Sam said. John looked at him.

“I said get back in the damn car!”

“And I said no.”

“STOP!” she yelled. Everyone turned to look at her. Her mouth dried out more than it already had. She swallowed. Maybe it was better if she didn't continue speaking. That would have gotten her slapped again. But they were looking at her. All of them. They were all waiting. “Not everything is about you- a- and- and your fucking obsession for avenging your dead girlfriends!” she said. Dean’s face turned from confused to alarmed, but he didn't move. It was fine if she had to get slapped again. She could take it. “We all lost someone, so do everyone a favour, shut the fuck up and get in the fucking car!”

“I am not going anywhere,” Sam answered. Emily opened her mouth, but Dean intervened.

“Okay, that’s it-” Dean grabbed Emily and dragged her back to the Impala. The fight between Sam and John continued in the background. Emily shoved Dean's hold away. “I hope you’re happy,” he said. Emily avoided looking at him, as if it could hide the fact that she was crying.

“What?” she asked.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about?” Emily looked back at Sam and John. “I was saying-”

“Yeah, right. All the being a bitch, and complaining, and riling Sam up- you just wanted him to take the fall with dad.” Emily blinked in disbelief. Why did everybody always think she wanted to drop her responsibilities on someone else?

“You know what?” she said. “I’m done!” She raised her hands and started walking around the car to get her things from the backseat. Where would she go? Anywhere but there. anywhere but with the Winchesters. “I am so done!” she repeated. Dean looked at her as she walked away.

“What did you say?” he asked, following her while she opened the car door.

“I said I AM DONE! DONE WITH ALL OF YOU!” she screamed. Sam and John also stopped arguing. Dean looked back and then followed Emily along the road. “I’D BETTER OFF LIVING UNDER A FUCKING BRIDGE!”

“Emily, st-” he said.

“SHUT UP!” Emily turned and pushed him away. “Message received, okay?! You don’t give a shit about me!”

“Em-”

“Stop saying my name!” she said. “Stop saying it like you care! IF I KILLED MYSELF TOMORROW YOU WOULD NOT GIVE A SHIT!” There it was. The second slap. Apples never fall far from their trees. The Winchesters in all their glory. Opposite from John, Dean actually looked like he knew what he'd just done was wrong. There was almost a hint of guilt in his features. The road stood still for a second. Not a single sound. She looked at him and then turned to continue walking away. Emily heard Dean whisper something, then she felt his hands on her as he dragged her back to the car. She fought back, but he crossed her arms behind her back and pushed her on the side of the car.

“I swear to god if you don’t stop acting looney-fucking-tunes I’ll hit you for real,” he said. Emily tried to squirm herself free, to no avail, so her anger transformed into frustration, which made her break into sobs again. She placed her forehead on the cold metal car and heard John’s truck starting and Sam walking towards her and Dean. Sam reached for the front seat, but Dean stopped him.

“Get in the back,” he said.

“What?! Dean, come on-”

“I said, get in the back!” yelled Dean, struggling to keep Emily still. Sam mumbled something under his breath as he took place in the backseat. “Okay, listen to me-” said Dean, still holding her still. “You’re angry, I get it, but I’m also starting to be fucking fed up with you and your nobody-loves-me act.” Emily huffed. “So here’s what’s going to happen: you calm down, stop crying and start acting like a normal person.” Emily rolled her eyes and forced herself to hold her breath. Dean let go of her and pushed her towards the passenger’s seat.

Dean drove them to the nest in silence. He parked the car and waited for Sam to step out. As he and John started selecting their weapons in religious silence, Dean remained in the car and looked towards Emily.

“This is how this is going to go,” he said. Emily rolled her eyes and looked away. “Dad’s gonna want you benched, and he's gonna want you to walk back to the motel,” he explained. “I’ll handle it, okay? You wait here.”

“It’s fine. I can walk back,” she whispered.

“Emily, it’s a five mile hike,” Dean said. Emily rolled her eyes. He looked at her for a few seconds, then left her alone in the car. She heard him talk with John, but couldn't pick up the exact words. A few minutes later, he opened the passenger’s door. “Stay glued to my ass and shut up, okay?” he said. Emily didn't answer. “And put this on your face.” Emily looked at him and he was giving her an ice pack. She didn't take it, just stepped out of the car and to the trunk. Dean appeared next to her with a sigh and threw the ice pack back in the trunk. “Alright, so- our best bet is decapitation,” he explained.

“I’m sorry, our best bet?” Emily frowned.

“What did I just say?” Emily rolled her eyes. Dean opened the duffel he kept in the trunk and gave her a machete. “Maybe don’t try it on yourself.” Emily looked at him. Was that supposed to be a joke? One of those things where you go “ahah”? If it was, it was a poorly executed one.

^[b]

Emily entered the barn before Dean. She clutched her machete so hard her hands hurt. Her heart was beating in her chest and her nerves were so sensible she would have beheaded a rat if it scared her. They followed John inside the nest, vampires sleeping all around the place, until they found the victim they were looking for. John kept walking, looking for the Colt. Dean gestured at Emily to check out what seemed like a gate at the end of the room. She managed not to make a sound and checked inside. It was filled with people didn't look like vampires. Some of them were dead, or passed out, or just very bloody. She looked back at Dean, trying to get his attention, but he was looking the other way. She swallowed. She had to do it, right? She had to open it. She used her knife to break the lock, making a sharp noise. She froze. She felt Dean and Sam’s gazes on her and turned as slow as she could. The vampires kept sleeping. Just as she was about to open the gate, however, someone screamed. All the vampires woke up and she heard John order them to run, so she did. She ran towards the closest window, jumped out of it and then ran through the woods. She hid behind a tree just to realize she was alone. Nobody had come out the same window. At least, nobody good. She turned to see a vampire run full speed towards her. She ran again, but the vampire was catching on. She only had one shot at killing it. If she failed, she was done for. She tried to calculate the timing to the best of her abilities, if I stop now and turn, I can- She didn’t even have the time to think through it, that she’d done it. She turned and pushed the machete through the vampire’s neck. The blood sprayed on her face and on her overalls, and it dripped from the machete to her arms. She tripped and fell. She realized she’d never seen so much blood all at the same time and that maybe it was for the best that she didn’t become a surgeon. She looked around. She had no idea which direction she was supposed to go, nobody was in sight. She checked her phone and it didn’t have any signal. She forced herself to remember how many random turns she had taken while running, but in the end, she had to guess. She walked. And walked. And then walked some more. In the end, she arrived on the edge of the road. Which was not recognizable. No landmarks, not signs. Just a straight road. Could have been the one they came from, or any other random straight road in the state. She was covered in blood: she had to get away from the road before someone saw her. Unsure what to do, she looked at her phone again. She’d been walking for an hour. And still, no signal. She heard some noises behind her. She turned, but didn’t see anybody. I can’t stay on the road. She thought to herself. I’m too easy to spot. So, she walked back in the woods and kept going in the same direction. Soon or later, she was going to find a sign, or signal for her phone. Or maybe she'd pass out and die. Whatever came first. She heard more noises, but still couldn’t figure out where they were coming from. Aaaaand, I’m lost. Definitely seen this tree before. Maybe she should have stopped and waited somewhere. Maybe Dean, Sam and John were looking for her and she was just getting farther and farther away. She heard someone call her name. She turned and saw Dean in the distance.

“Dean?” she asked. Dean turned towards her and walked faster.

“Emily, damn it- Where the hell were you?!” he asked, stopping in front of her. “What’s all this blood?”

“A vampire followed me,” she explained. “Good news, decapitation works.” Emily handed him the machete. She didn't want it in her hands any longer. Dean nodded towards the opposite side.

“I’m telling you now- Dad’s not happy you went missing.”

“Dad’s never happy about me,” complained Emily. “I just- ran towards the nearest window. That’s all.” Emily shoved her hands in her pockets and kept walking a few steps behind Dean, staring at his boots leaving marks on the leaves over and over, until the leaves dissipated and made way for concrete.

“I’m sorry but we’re gonna have to make a stop before we go to the motel,” said Dean. Emily looked at him as he sat in the driver’s seat. Dean hesitated. “Dad needs some dead man’s blood.”

Emily entered the motel holding a jar of blood in her left hand. She placed it in front of John. He looked at her, then at Dean.

“You took a while,” he said. “Where is she coming from?”

“Found her walking back here,” he said with a look towards Emily. She frowned. “Thought I’d be nice and give her a lift.” Emily was about to speak to say he was lying, but Dean intervened. “She killed one of the vampires by herself.”

“You should have followed your brothers,” said John. Emily raised her eyebrows. Not even a little bit impressed. “Go get cleaned up.” Emily looked at Dean, who shrugged. Emily scoffed, grabbed her shower bag and entered the bathroom. She opened the shower water and heard some faint arguing outside the door, but chose to ignore it. She looked through the bag to find shampoo and conditioner. She threw her clothes in a corner and stepped in the shower. As water dissolved the blood from her body, the fresher cuts on her arm started to burn. It had been a while since she last hurt herself. The burn was almost ignorable. Emily lowered herself until she was sitting at the bottom of the shower. Come on. She thought. You can’t keep doing that. You have to find another way. But what way? And would that change? She’d bounce around from hurting herself to what- alcoholism? Turn herself into John? Not that it mattered. Nothing was ever going to change. Things weren’t going to get better. It was just going to get worse and worse and worse. Before she knew, her arms were bleeding again, and the water burned over her skin. A lot. She washed her hair, trying to endure the pain of the shampoo dripping on her open cuts, and then turned off the water. She was getting dressed when someone knocked on the door. And then knocked again.

“Jesus- one second!” Emily wore the flannel she used to sleep and opened the door. It was Dean. The room behind him seemed empty. “What?” she asked.

“Show me your arms,” he said.

“What?” said Emily, grabbing the edge of her sleeves. The tremble in her voice gave her away, because Dean rolled his eyes.

“I convinced dad not to bring it up anymore, but I need to keep an eye on you,” he said.

“No, Dean- I’m not- There’s nothing to see!” With a sigh, Dean grabbed her arm and yanked her sleeve up. She hissed in pain. “Jesus- Way to be nice about it.” Dean looked at her arm and seemed to need a second to take in the sight.

“No, I don’t think you understand,” he said. “I’m not going to be nice about this. The reason dad let me take care of this is because he thinks I can make you stop.”

“So what, you- you’re going to check on me and then go tell daddy?” Dean rolled his eyes and let go of her arm. She covered it back up.

“No,” said Dean. “I really don’t want to see you two fight about this, we've got enough of that.” Emily frowned and crossed her arms.

“You don’t need to lie to him,” said Emily. “I can handle him.”

“No,” answered Dean. “I can assure you, you can’t.”

“Why would you cover for me?” Emily continued, stepping out of the bathroom.

“Don’t get it twisted- I just want some peace in this family. For like- one fucking second.” Emily walked to her bag and took out her hairdryer. She stopped walking, turning away from him.

“Dean, did- did dad tell you not to look for me?” she asked. Dean didn't answer. “Thank you for looking for me anyway.”

“You're welcome, kid.”

So Big / So Small

From Dear Evan Hansen

She was used to nightmares. She had them way more often than she cared to admit. But usually, she would dream of something she cared about. Her mother, Alex, the night they died. That night, it was different: she saw a man with yellow eyes in a dark room. He was looking at her. There was a baby boy in a nursery. He cooed. Emily blinked and she was outside, a woman was looking out of a window. She was looking at her. Everything got clearer. She started to feel pain. She blinked again and she wasn’t in the street anymore, she was looking at the baby, but from above. It was almost like she was on the ceiling. The pain grew. It was sharp, like a stab right at the base of her chest. The man with yellow eyes was still looking at her.

She woke up in a panic, sweaty and towered by Dean. She tried to sit down and realized she was on the ground. The pain disappeared with her nightmare and she realized where she was. They were traveling towards Iowa. She was on the side of the road.

“Are you okay?” asked Dean, helping her sit. The car was still running idle a handful of feet away from them.

“Yeah, just- just a bad dream I guess.”

“Are you sure?” asked Sam, who had also appeared next to her. They both seemed way too worried. Emily frowned. What else would it be? And how did she end up outside of the car.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she mumbled, standing back up. “Where are we?” She cleaned the dirt off her overalls.

“Dude, are you sure you're okay?” Sam asked. Emily looked at him but didn't answer. She looked at Dean, waiting for an answer.

“A few miles out, we gotta start looking for a motel,” he said with a sigh. “Emily-”

“If you ask if I'm okay one more time I swear to god I’ll start shooting,” she complained, sitting back in the car. Dean and Sam sighed and followed her.

Emily and Sam hadn’t said a word to each other in days. Not more than basic living required. Emily had been avoiding every interaction with him at the cost of doing twice the work. Asking Sam to pass the milk? She’d rather stand up and walk to the milk herself. So, when they settled in Iowa and walked to the hospital archives, Emily sat two tables away from Sam and started to collect names of all kids that fit the criteria of turning six months old soon. She heard the sound of an office chair approaching her and rolled her eyes.

“How’s it going?” asked Sam.

“Slow,” she answered, not taking her eyes off the files.

“Can we talk?” Emily ignored him and stood up. She put away the files she was going to discard and took another pile. Sam followed her through the room. “You’re gonna have to talk to me at some point,” he said.

“No,” she said, walking back towards the desk. “Don’t you have work to do?” she asked, pointing to his pile of files. “I don't wanna be here all day.”

“How long will you do this for?” Sam asked.

“Until I say so.”

“Oh, come on,” Sam sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I-”

“Work. Files.” she spelled. Sam sighed again and went back to his desk.

They were walking back to the car. Emily was a few steps ahead of Sam in a useless attempt to keep him from trying to apologize again. She was trying her best to tune out his voice as he vomited a lot of useless words, but it was hard to do when he wouldn't stay more than a few steps behind her. He was right in the middle of saying “I know I fucked up” when he stopped and groaned. Emily took a couple more steps, then turned. Sam started clutching his head in pain.

“Are you okay?” she asked, frowning.

“Yeah- Yeah I’m fine.” Emily crossed her arms as Sam’s pain didn’t stop. He leaned against a bench and sat down.

“And it shows,” she said, earning herself a scowl while also gesturing at her to say he was fine. A few seconds later, eyes still tightened for the pain, Sam took a map from his pocket and looked at it.

“We have to go,” he said, standing up. Emiky frowned. “I saw something.” Emily raised her eyebrows and followed Sam towards the car.

“What?”

“We need to go there now.” Emily sat in the Impala next to Sam, waiting for an explanation.

“Okay, sergeant,” she mocked. He sounded exactly like John the day they'd fought. Maybe it was genetic. Sam looked at her for a second as he started the car. He frowned, then stopped mid key-turn. Emily raised her eyebrows.

“I- I- I saw a man with yellow eyes and- a woman dying,” he explained.

“What?” Emily asked, confused.

“And a baby.” Yellow eyes, a woman dying. And a baby. That sounded a little too close to her nightmare.

“You’re kidding, right?” Emily asked. He shook his head and merged into the road. “Sam- That’s the dream I had this morning.” Sam swallowed. I’m gonna go ahead and assume it’s not a good thing she thought to herself.

“No-” said Sam. “No, it’s not a good thing.”

“What?” Emily turned.

“I said it’s not a good thing.”

“Yeah-” said Emily. “I heard that. But why? I haven’t said anything.”

“Oh.” Sam frowned. “You sure you weren’t thinking out loud?”

“Maybe,” Emily sighed and took her phone out. “I’m gonna call Dean.”

John was anything but happy to hear the news about Sam’s dreams. He paced back and forth in the room, while Emily was filling a cup with water.

“When were you planning on telling me about this?” John asked. Emily turned, frowning. The water she was putting in a glass for Sam kept running out of the tap, and overflowed. Dean reached for the sink and closed the water. Sam released a weak groan of pain and Emily handed him the glass. She was still mad at him: she was just following John's orders. John looked at the siblings one by one, waiting for an explanation.

“We did not know what it meant,” said Dean. He looked at Emily. “Are you sure it was the same house?” John rolled his eyes and Emily did her best to ignore him.

“Same house, same baby.” Dean brushed his face with his hands and sat down on the bed.

“Alright-” John sighed. “Things like this start happening, you pick up the phone and you call me,” said John. Emily’s blood seemed to boil for a split second.

“You’re joking, right?” she snapped. Dean gestured at her to wait and pushed away from the sink.

“Dad, I called you from Lawrence- all right?” he said. “Sam called you when I was dying. I called you when Emily was in the hospital- I got a better chance of winning the lottery than getting you on the phone.” Emily crossed her arms. John nodded.

“You’re right,” he said. “Although I’m not too crazy about this new tone of yours-” Emily scoffed.

“Jesus Christ- Shut the fuck up about the damn tone!” Dean and Sam turned towards her, a hint of shock in their features. “I lost count of the times we fucking called you! Dean once made me use my entire pool win to try and call you! Twenty bucks- gone! In fucking quarters!” John straightened on the bed and put his hand on his waist.

“Emily-”

“You don’t get to tell us we should have called, because we did!” she yelled. “You just ignored us!”

“I didn’t answer for a reason- I was trying to keep you safe!” said John. Emily rolled her eyes.

“How?! We were on the job. I was on the job, which is probably the least safe thing on earth-”

“You’re supposed to be able to look after yourself, you’re-”

“Not old enough to carry a gun, for Christ’s sake! I- I can’t even buy tickets to a horror movie!”

“Can we talk about this another time?!” Dean said, stepping in the middle of Emily and her father. She was about to speak, but Sam did first.

“Dean’s right.” Emily rolled her eyes. So much for backing her up. “The demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through.”

“No, they're not. No one is, ever again,” said John. Emily crossed her arms. Sam’s phone rang. Emily was just about to start arguing with her dad when- after a second of pondering- Sam recognized the caller and mentioned her by name. It was Meg. Emily looked at Sam and frowned. With everyone’s attention now on Sam, Dean took the opportunity to lean back on the sink, facing away from John.

“Don’t start again with your bullshit,” he said in a whisper. Emily’s eyes widened. “Look, I say this out of experience, alright? Fighting with dad? Never a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because he will never let you win.” Sam handed the phone to John. “It can only end two ways, you either get kicked out until he's sober again, or you get slapped.”

“How about you grow a pair?” she asked. “You can't let him walk all over you forever!”

“Look- you think Sam didn’t try? He tried so hard he left. He went to Stanford. You know why? Because dad’s never going to let you win.” Emily rolled her eyes and walked away. She sat just outside the motel room to smoke a cigarette. Dean appeared next to her a few minutes later.

“Come back in,” he said. Emily stood up and walked back in the room. She saw John was packing.

“Where are we going?” she asked. John turned towards her.

“You’re staying here. I’m going to buy us some time while your brothers kill the demon. Tonight.” Emily blinked twice, trying to process John’s words. Not only he was going to leave again, he was also telling her she was benched. Again. He closed his bag. “Dean, a word.” John and Dean left the room and Sam and Emily remained alone.

“I can't believe this,” she complained. “Is he really going to bench me? Isn't this like- the whole reason we're hunters?” Sam looked at her. “And I don't even get to be there?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Sorry, I- I should have backed you up with dad,” he said. Emily sighed. “Look, I-”

“Sam, drop it okay? It's fine, I don't wanna think about that right now,” she said. Sam smirked. “Dad's gon- What?”

“You just said ‘wanna’ instead of ‘want to’,” he said.

“No I didn't,” she said, frowning. Sam nodded. “No, Sam, I- And why is it a big deal? I'm sure I've done it before!”

“Nah,” Sam said. “Dude, you're a changed person,”

“Because I abbreviated a modal verb and a particle?”

“No, because when I met you you would use words like ‘extramarital affair’ and you wouldn't even use swear words, and now it's… well it's different.”

“Yeah, I'm adapting to a different sub-culture, it's a normal thing to do!”

“Sure, you know what's not normal?” Sam said with a laugh. “Calling it ‘adapting to the a sub-culture!”

“Okay,” Emily shook her head and smiled. “Now you're just trying to make fun of me.” She turned back to her bag to get a change of clothes. “But seriously, is he going to-” Dean came back into the room, alone.

“What did dad say?” asked Emily.

“So, uhm-” he hesitated and looked into his inside pocket. “He gave me the Colt.” He took it out of the pocket halfway, just enough that Emily and Sam could see it. “We only have four bullets. Without them it’s just a regular gun.” Emily crossed her arms. “He also-” he sighed. “Well, he said I should leave you home,” Dean pointed to Emily.

“How's that okay?!” she yelled. “I want to be part of this, okay? That b-”

“Emily, you're coming with us,” Dean said. Emily stopped talking. “I don't know why dad thinks you're not ready, but I think he's wrong.” Emily swallowed. So he… thought she was ready? Did Dean Winchester just… subtly tell her she was a good hunter? No way. “And we could use a third pair of eyes, it's gonna be a rough night.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, what if I-”

“Pack your stuff,” he said. “We need to leave.”

The siblings stumbled out of the car and ran towards the house. They broke in, but were intercepted by Monica’s husband. He attacked Dean and Sam, but Emily was quick enough^[c] to get through them, in the living room and up the stairs. She heard her brothers argue with the man, who was calling for his wife. Emily tried to stop her, but the woman fought her away and ran towards the nursery, almost throwing Emily down the stairs. She cling into the rails with all her strength and ran up to the top of the stair. She stepped in front of the first door and saw it. The demon was standing in front of the crib, just like in her dream.

“Dean!” She turned towards his brother, who was holding the husband back. He managed to get rid of the man just long enough to try to run up the stairs, but got attacked again. Sam dragged the man away from Dean, and then something happened that took Emily by surprise. Her brother put a hand in his pocket, took out the Colt and tossed it to her. No, no, no, don't do that, dad’s gonna fucking kill me if something goes wrong, she thought. She looked at Dean. There was no way he really did that. That was the worst moment possible to trust her for what was probably the first time.

“Go!” Dean yelled, trying to hold back the husband. She had one shot. Her hand slipped on the safety trigger twice before she was able to grip it and point towards the man. Come on, come on, you're a good shot, right? Even John said you are. And to say she had shot chess pieces with Bobby Singer just a few months before. Where was that confidence? Don't fuck it up, Emily. She made sure she was aiming for the head and fired. The bullet flew towards the demon, but as soon as it was supposed to hit, he disappeared into smoke. It took a couple of seconds to realize that she missed. Fuck.

She missed. That was probably the last time Dean was going to trust her with something, because John was going to kill her. She froze in place as Sam pushed past her and grabbed the newborn from the crib, flames starting to consume the room. She heard Dean call her name, but she didn’t move. She stared at the point where the demon had vanished. How did she miss it? He was standing right there. He wasn't a moving target, he wasn't even a small target. Her breath started to grow shorter as the sound of flames reached her ears. Dean grabbed her by the arm and shoved her towards the exit. She had just about made it outside that something in the house exploded. Dean was next to her, handing the baby back to her mother. Emily stared at the house burning down.

The sound of the sirens outside weren’t enough to make Emily move. She was dead. Her mother was dead. And Alex had stopped crying.

“Hey!” called a voice. “Can you get through here?” Emily managed to look away from her mother’s body. A firefighter was trying to help her through the half-collapsed door. “Come on, there’s no time to lose! Give me the baby.” Emily looked at the firefighter better. It was him. It was Yellow Eyes. “Climb through the door,” he said. “It’s fine, the flames won’t burn you.” Emily took a step forward. She felt the heat of the flames closing in on her. “Don’t be afraid, you’ve got nothing to lose. You missed your shot, kid. They’re not going to forgive you. None of them.”

Emily felt a hand wrapping her chest and dragging her back.

“Emily, what are you doing?!” She turned. It was Dean. She didn't answer. She knew what she had to say, but she didn't want to. He was gonna get mad. And he was gonna tell John. And if in any other occasions she would not have cared, that time, she did. She wasn't going to come back from missing a shot against the demon. She looked up at the nursery window and saw a man standing in the fire. He smiled at her. Emily looked at the gun she was still holding. Maybe she had another shot. Emily tried to push through Dean’s grasp, but failed.

“Dean, no- Let me go back in there!”

“Emily, it’s too late!” Dean dragged her back a few more feet and she fell on the pavement knees first. “It’s over. Give me the gun.” Emily swallowed the knot in her throat and gave him the Colt. Dean looked at Sam. “She missed the shot,” he said. Sam put his hands on his waist and looked at Dean. Emily stood up, feeling the skin on her knees burn, and looked at Sam.

“What happened?” he asked. She shook her head. She didn't know. She knew she missed, she didn't know how. Maybe she wasn't as good of a shot as she thought she was. Sam and Dean moved a few feet away to argue. Emily couldn't hear it for the most part, her ears were ringing and her brain was way too full of shit to process anything around her. So she stood there, sinking into her new reality. She was, and she was always going to be, the one that let the demon go. The one who missed the shot. Only one phrase came through to her from Sam and Dean's conversation, and it was from Sam:

“This is why dad wanted her to stay at the motel.”

Those words snapped Emily out of the panic she was feeling and back to reality. The reality where, sure, she was The One Who Missed The Shot. But she was also angry, frustrated and full of adrenaline. The image of her, bashing Sam’s head on the window became so real she had to blink to double check it wasn’t happening. But all she could think about was hurting him. Her body moved on its own. She walked past Dean and tried to push Sam to the ground. But her arms were too shaky, her body too overwhelmed to succeed. So she punched him. It was the most pathetic punch she'd thrown in her entire life. It recoiled in her entire body, and Sam barely reacted. Dean was quick to stop her, and didn't have to use force. Emily felt limp. Her legs were shaking, her arms felt disconnected from her body, and her face was tingling.

“Something's seriously wrong with you,” Sam hissed, touching his face. She tried to take a step forward, but Dean held her back.

“Will you stop?” he asked. Emily wasn't sure if he was talking to her. But the answer was no. She tried to move towards Sam again. “Okay, you know what?” he said, wrapping his fingers around her arm and dragging her towards the car. “I am so sick of this,” he whispered. “Just one day, one day where everything goes right, that's all I ask.”

The moment Emily sat in the car, she felt the adrenaline wash off and her eyes filling with tears.

“Can you not?” Dean asked, starting the engine. “I don't really have time for you to play the victim right now, okay? Get it together.” Emily dried her face and held her breath. Dean merged into the road. Emily didn't say a word. She had no idea where they were going, and she didn't care. It was like her mind had gone blank and she’d lost the ability to survive. Her breath was cut off by a panic attack, which was also responsible for the full-body tingling. Her arms didn't feel hers and she wasn't sure she still had cheeks. She touched them. Her hands were shaking. Her face was hot. Really hot. She sniffled and the car started going faster. The longer she held the tears back, the worse it was. She leaned forward, putting her head on the dashboard. She tried punching it. She had no strength left in her arms. Dean drove for half an hour in complete silence, and in that half an hour, Emily never stopped crying. She just tried to keep it down. The car stopped and Dean told her to wait there, but she recognised the cars in Bobby Singer's salvage yard.

She tried to act like nothing happened: she stepped in, walked past Dean and Bobby and upstairs to the room she’d always stayed in. She stripped away her sweaty clothes and took clean ones. Her mind blacked out for several minutes as she stared at the clean clothes, in nothing but her underwear. When she regained enough awareness to realize she was sitting on her bed doing nothing, she tried to wear the clothes she was holding, but her hands were too shaky, too weak. The clothes fell. She tried to reach for them but when she leaned forward, she almost fell, getting dizzy. She sat down on the bed and reached for the clothes. She tried to separate the two layers of fabric, but she could not get her hands to be steady enough. That was when Dean entered the room.

“What are you doing?” he asked. Emily ignored him and tried to wear the t-shirt again. When she couldn’t, she threw it across the room.

“I CAN'T GET TO WEAR THIS FUCKING T-SHIRT!” she screamed. She bent her chest over her knees and kept crying. Dean sighed.

“Alright, come here.” Emily didn’t answer him. “Emily, come here!” he said. Emily looked at him and stood up. He was about to talk when a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. She rushed in the corner of the room and threw up in the trash can next to him. Dean got out a toilet paper roll from somewhere and offered it to her. She cleaned her face and stood back up. She was about to go back on the bed, but Dean stopped her right in front of him. She looked at the floor, her breath growing shorter and shorter. “Alright you know what-” Dean grabbed her forearm and dragged her to the bathroom. He forced her to step in the shower. Without saying anything, he turned on the water and set it on the coldest setting possible.

Emily tried not to scream when the ice-cold water touched her skin, and she tried to move away from it, but Dean kept her in place. A few seconds into the absolute torture a frozen shower was, she realized the cold water was giving her the ability to breathe back. She wasn’t crying anymore.

“Better?” asked Dean, crossing his arms. Emily looked at him, shaking, but for the cold. She didn't answer. “You’re fucking welcome,” said Dean. “Stay under the water.” He turned towards the sink and took out some disinfectant. “Give me your arm.” Emily sniffed and extended her right arm. Dean looked at her and raised his eyebrows. With a roll of her eyes, Emily extended her left arm. Dean looked at the cuts. “I swear to God, Emily- What are you using? This is getting infected.” Emily didn’t answer. When Dean touched her cuts with the disinfectant, she tried to move her arm away. Dean didn’t let her. He didn’t even seem to notice or care about the fact it stung like a bitch. He turned off the water and threw her a towel. “Go get changed.” Okay, no need to be a dick about it.

Emily entered her room and discarded her soaked underwear, she wore clean, dry one and put on the old t-shirt which was still laying in the corner of the room. She opened the door and Dean entered holding a roll of gauze.

“Dean, what-” Dean didn’t say anything, he forced her to sit on the bed and covered her arm in gauze. “What are you doing?!” she asked. Dean didn't seem to care enough to answer.

“Bobby said you can stay as long as you want. I don’t know what you did but the man really likes you.”

“What? You’re just going to drop me here until dad cools off?” Emily crossed her arms and fell back on the bed.

“No, I-” Dean stood up. “Look, I won’t tell dad you’re the one who took the shot because if I do we won’t ever hear the end of it,” he said. “I’ll tell him it was Sam.”

“Good, give them more reasons to fucking hate me.” Emily rolled her eyes and laid down on the bed. She felt her eyes heave down.

“You tired?” asked Dean. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Dean, just leave,” she said.

“Sleep,” he answered. Emily took a deep breath, her chest still tense. “I’ll come to pick you up after this deal is over,” She nodded. Not because she liked it or because she agreed, but because she knew she was not in any position to complain. Also she wanted him to leave. She wanted everyone to leave. Before he left, Dean reached into Emily’s overalls, which she had discarded in a corner of the room. He took her gun and put it in his pants. Emily frowned. “I’ll take this.”

The first day, she slept. She had not had the chance to sleep longer than three hours a night in weeks. When she opened her eyes and found herself alone, her mind was still foggy. It didn't occur to her why she was able to sleep that long or why she was alone. She didn't question it, it was just a fact. Her body urged her to rest more. And she was happy to listen.

The second day was when she realized. Emily opened her eyes and it came to her that she was in the middle of something. Demon. Colt. Yellow-eyes, still alive. She was The One Who Missed. She had one shot at killing Azazel and putting an end to all the suffering that he had brought, and she missed. And then she punched Sam. Dean had given her a shred of trust, and she had taken it and thrown it out the window.

The third day, she got out of her room. Bobby greeted her with half a smile, a pat on the shoulder and a lunch based on canned spaghetti that was burned, but somehow still cold. She ate her meal and then stared at her phone. She had the sensation she had a horrible nightmare she could not remember and something was telling her that she should check on her brothers. It had been happening often and Emily was almost sure they were visions, she just couldn’t remember them. Her phone started ringing, showing Sam's name.

“Hello?” she said. Yeah. Visions.

“Emily, something happened,” said Sam. He sounded like he had been crying. “You- uh- you should get to the hospital.”

She entered the hospital running, ignoring all the nurses who told her not to, trying to stop her to ask where she was going. She didn't need directions, she knew how hospitals worked. She wandered in the corridors until she recognized Sam’s jacket. As she approached him, she noticed his face was covered in cuts and his right eye was swollen. She slowed down her pace as he noticed her and started walking in her direction.

Last time she saw him, she was mad at him. But the prospect of a car crash killing her entire family brought her fight with Sam to the bottom of her priorities.

“Emily, I’m sorry, I-” Sam stopped her from going any further in the hallway, preventing her from seeing inside the room.

“How- Sam, what happened?”

“Dad was possessed, there- there was a fight, I-” Emily tried to go past him but he resisted. “Emily, wait-”

“Sam, let me go-” she said. “Is D- Are they okay?” Emily’s eyes filled with tears and Sam lightened his hold on her shoulders.

“Dad’s awake, the doctor just told me- he’s going to be okay.”

“What about Dean?” Sam looked away. No, no, no, come on, not again. “Sam-”

“He…” Sam hesitated, and Emily had the feeling it was worst case scenario. “He hasn’t woken up yet. We’ll have to wait.”

“Miss Reed, you should not be here!” said the nurse, entering Alex’s room. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Give me a break, Tina, my brother is dying.”

“It’s nurse Tina to you and no, I can’t give you a break! You need to go to your room to get your hands medicated,” said the nurse.

“Can’t you do it here?”

“Miss Reed, you know I can’t, now come.” The nurse tried to push her wheelchair away. Emily stopped her.

“Can you at least tell me if he’s going to be okay?”

“I’m sorry, honey, we’ll have to wait.”

“...about it.” Sam’s words sounded like he was in another room. When Alex was dying, the doctors had said Emily the exact same phrase:

“We’ll have to wait,” she said, enveloped in her memories. “Yeah, I know the deal.”

“What?” asked Sam. Emily looked at him. “Did you hear what I said?” Emily shook her head. “I said we should probably go see dad, maybe he knows-” Sam sighed. “Maybe he knows what to do.” Emily hesitated. John had the ability of ruining everything when things were good, what was he going to do when things were already fucked up? “Come on, it's gonna be fine.” Emily let Sam lead her to their father’s room. She walked in front of Dean’s room and froze. There was no one else in the room. Just Dean, laying still on the hospital bed. Emily could hear the sound of every single machine keeping him alive. Dean was going to die. The doctors knew it. If they didn't, they would be in there. It was the same thing that happened to Alex. “We’re gonna figure something out,” said Sam, who had stopped a couple of steps ahead of Emily. Sam waited a second, but when Emily didn’t move, he spoke again. “Look, I- I’ll go talk to dad, okay?” he said. Emily used her hands to dry the tears that were trying to escape her control. It was happening again. People talking to her like she was five, being nice, all because her brother was dying. Sam entered the room next to Dean’s and Emily remained by herself.

Emily had been in the hospital with Alex for three days. She was getting better, her hands were healing, but Alex wasn’t. Alex could not breathe on his own anymore and he was getting weaker and weaker by the hour.

“Emily, are you here again? You know you’re not supposed to enter this room,” said Nurse Tina.

“I’m sorry Tina,” Emily sighed. “But he’s dying, what difference does it make?”

“About that…” The nurse touched her shoulder. “He’s not making any progress, are you- are you sure there's nobody we can call?”

“No, ” said Emily. “But he might wake up, right?”

“Emily, the only thing keeping him alive are the machines. I’m so sorry, darling.”

“But he- he might still wake up, right?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Fucking asshole,” she said to Dean’s body. “Of course you had to die after being a half decent brother for three whole seconds.” With a shiver, Emily realized she had been talking to herself: Dean could not hear her, let alone understand her. Sam walked through the room and stopped on the other side of Dean’s bed. She avoided looking at him and sat on a chair next to the bed.

“Emily, look, I’m sorry I-”

“It’s fine, I- It doesn’t really matter right now,” she said. Emily sat on the chair next to Dean’s bed and brought her knees up to her face.

“I shouldn't have said those things, okay? I was mad, and I was-”

“I said it's fine!” she yelled. “Jesus, Samuel, move on!” Sam sighed and leaned on the window. Emily brought her knees to her chest and took a deep breath. Sam didn't speak for a while. Emily stared at a cabinet on the other end of the room.

“Tina, I’m sure, he- he closed his hand on my finger!” she cried. “That means hope, right? There’s still hope?”

“Honey, that’s just… an automatic body reflex. He-”

“No, no, I’m sure, Tina, Alex will be fine, you- just wait a little more.”

“His body functions haven’t been autonomous for days, his brain, it’s… it’s dead, Emily. He’s gone.”

“Tina, no, I’m n-I’m not ready, he can’t be dead!”

“I’m sorry, darling. You should hold him while you can. I can buy you one more day with the doctors, not more.”

“Can I ask you something?” Sam said. Emily nodded, not looking at him. “Were you in the hospital with your brother?” he asked. Emily dragged a hand through her face.

“Yeah, I- I was, we- we didn't have anybody else, so…”

“Didn't they call CPS?” he asked. “I mean, you were thirteen.”

“They did,” she answered. “But there was a nurse, she… she kept me as a patient so that I didn't have to leave Alex alone,” Sam didn't say anything. Emily turned towards him. “And then the police, they- they gave me my stuff from my house and that's how I found out about John,”

“So you… what? You ran?” Sam frowned.

“Yup.” she admitted. “I lasted exactly three days in foster care and then I disappeared.” Sam smiled. “How's dad?”

“ He… asked about you,” Sam said. “I told him you weren't here yet.”

“I should go talk with him, right?” she asked. “I drive like a maniac and he knows.” Sam huffed.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you better go.”

She walked to John’s room, and knocked on the open door to announce her presence.

“Hey, Emily, you made it.” He smiled. She nodded. “You must be tired.”

“I'll be fine,” she said, not sure if it was a lie or not. “Dad, Dean… he’s-”

“I know,” he said, sitting a little bit straighter. “Listen, I’ve had a chat with your brothers and they told me- They told me things got rough between you and them lately,” he continued. Emily closed the door.

“It’s been… kind of difficult, yeah.” She crossed her arms.

“You know how I feel about it. It makes hunting more difficult.” John said. Emily raised her eyebrows. “We had to wait for Dean for hours because of you.” Emily looked at him. There wasn’t a single ounce of pity for her. He didn’t care that she wasn't okay, or if she broke down like a porcelain. The only thing he cared about was his mission.

“Wow,” she exhaled. With her index fingers she traced the corner of her eyes and then pinched her nose. “Dad, I’m sorry my weak-ass brain is making your mission more difficult, but like- Dean had to cold-shock me because I couldn’t breath.”

“You’ve been hunting for three years now, I would have expected you to have developed some strength of mind,” said John. He was getting more nervous, Emily could tell. And she could feel her own rage climb back up. She wrapped her hands around the bed railing, her knuckles whitening.

“Dad, this is not about hunting,” she tried to explain. “It’s about your damn sons who keep going out of their way to make me go crazy.”

“It’s your brothers you’re talking about, you sh-”

“I what?” Emily scoffed. “Dad, I get it: you are all strong and cold in the face of adversity, but- I’m not! And family is supposed to be there to help you through that stuff! Instead, you just- what? Get drunk? Complain?” John sighed and rolled his eyes.

“If you-” he tried to say, but Emily still has something to say.

“Is this your idea of being a family?” she asked. John’s eyes tightened, he was getting nervous.

“I told you thousands of times, you-”

“That I can’t afford to have any emotions?” she asked, eyes filling with tears. “Dad, it doesn’t work like that!”

“It should, by now.”

“Alright, you know what?” Emily backed out of John’s room. “My bad, shouldn’t have tried to have a conversation with you.” Without waiting for an answer, she left the room and saw Sam about to leave Dean’s room. His attention was caught by Emily sniffling.

“You okay?” he asked. Emily rolled her eyes and didn't answer. She dried her face. “Look, I- I… need to go grab some stuff for dad, you wanna tag along?” Emily looked inside Dean's room, hesitating.

“Okay,” she whispered. Sam put a hand on her shoulder and walked past her towards the elevator. “What does dad need?”

“Acacia, oil of Abramelin and a bunch of candles,” Sam said, reading from a list. He frowned. Emily looked at him, confused, trying to take a peek at the notes. He lowered the piece of paper for her to see. “You ever read anything like that?”

“Yeah,” she said. That was a summoning spell. She remembered reading it from one of Bobby Singer's books. Or maybe it wasn't? Maybe she was getting confused? “Did he say what it's for?” Sam shook his head.

“What is it?”

“I-” Emily hesitated. Maybe she was wrong. There was no point in starting a fight over it. “I don't remember.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “Maybe we can run it by Bobby?”

The Impala sat in Bobby’s salvage lot, its right side caved in, glasses shattered on the seats and some random pieces scattered around the ground. Bobby walked behind her. Emily looked at it while walking towards the garage, looking for Bobby.

“You were lucky you weren’t in there,” he said. Emily turned. “It was a rough one,” Emily sighed. “Sam said you were gonna come by. Supplies, right?” She nodded. “Go on and grab whatever you need, sweetheart,” Bobby said. “Call me if you can't find something.” Emily walked inside, followed by Sam. Before she went to grab the supplies, she walked to one of Bobby's many bookshelves.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. “We don't have time to get you a book to read,” he said. Emily ignored him and went on the tip of her toes to grab a book from the top shelf. That was the book with the spell. “Emily!” She opened the book and walked towards him, looking through the pages.

“Look,” she said, showing Sam the book. “It's a summoning spell.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “I mean, it could just be the same ingredients.” Emily looked at him: there was no way he really believed that. “You don't think he…”

“Yup,” Emily said. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Bobby walked in the room.

“You kids okay?” he asked. “You seem worried.” Emily looked at Sam and closed the book before Bobby could see what she was reading.

“Yeah, we-” Emily hesitated.

“Our dad called and said he didn't need the supplies after all,” Sam said. The speed at which he'd be able to cook a lie always caught Emily by surprise. Bobby looked at her and she was quick at nodding. “We were just about to leave.”

Emily rushed inside John’s room, Sam following her a few steps behind. The drive back from Bobby was quiet, tense, they knew what was about to happen. They knew they were about to bring a lot of shit on John and that he wasn’t going to like it.

“What the hell is-” “Do you seriously think-” “-wrong with you?” “-we’re that stupid?” Sam’s and Emily's voices overlapped as John raised from his bed and sat up. Emily looked at Sam and remained silent, waiting for him to talk, but he didn't.

“It wasn’t a protection spell!” she yelled. Sam did the same. Emily looked at him again. Okay, what the hell?

“I have a plan,” John answered, way calmer than it was due. Emily scoffed.

“What plan?” she asked. “Bringing the demon here for a dick-measuring contest!?”

“Dad, Dean is dying! And you have a plan? How can you even be thinking…” he trailed off with a scoff. Emily crossed her arms. Maybe he was into something when he said she should have backed him up. It was way easier to face John if she was alone. “So that’s it, uh? You care more about killing this demon than you do saving your son?” John’s eyes tightened. He looked at Sam for a few seconds, no answer coming out of his mouth, which made Emily’s blood boil. Jesus Christ, he was thinking of an excuse. Really?

“I’m doing this for him,” he said. Emily scoffed, a nervous laugh leaving her body and earning her a scowl from her father. “Something funny?”

“You’re obsessed,” she said. “That’s all it is, you’re obsessed.” John shook his head. It never ceased to make her feel like a disappointment, but at that point it didn't matter much.

“You know, it's funny, I thought it was your obsession too!” John said, pointing to the siblings. “This demon killed your mothers, killed your girlfriend and your brother. You.” He pointed at Sam. “You begged me to be part of this hunt and you, Emily, should at least be grateful I didn’t leave you sleeping under a bridge. Now if Sam'd killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened.” Emily and Sam looked at each other for a moment. She looked down at the floor. He was taking heat for something she’d done, something she’d messed up, just because Dean wanted it that way. She took a deep breath. Dean was dying, so it didn’t matter anymore.

“Emily, don't,” Sam said. Emily ignored him. Why did it matter? John thought she was a failure either way.

“I missed the shot,” she said. Sam closed his eyes and pinched his nose. John didn't react.

“No, I-”

“Come on, Samuel,” she continued. “Are you seriously going to take the blame on that?” Sam looked away. “And no, I am not grateful,” she said. “What do I have to be grateful for?” John shook his head again.

“I knew I shouldn’t have taken you along in the first place,” he said. “I knew it was a mistake, I knew I was wrong to trust your mom.” Emily looked at him, blood boiling in her veins.

“You know what?” she said. Sam put a hand on her shoulder. He somehow knew something horrible was about to leave her mouth. Just as she was about to continue, the glass that John had placed on his side table shattered to the ground, splashing water everywhere. Either of them had the time to question how, because the sounds of alarms coming from Dean’s rooms grabbed their attention. Emily rushed out of the room just in time to see doctors and nurses run into Dean’s room.

“I’m sorry, darling. You should hold him while you can. I can buy you one more day with the doctors, not more.”

It looked like she wasn’t going to get an extra day with Dean. John knew what to do. He always knew. But he wouldn’t do it on account of wanting revenge instead. But revenge was not going to keep Dean alive or bring back her mom. Emily turned around and Sam was standing next to her.

“Sam,” she whispered. She could hear the doctors talk, she could hear Dean’s heartbeat not coming back.

“I know,” Sam answered. For a moment, she also could have sworn she’d heard Dean's voice curse something. But of course, that wasn't possible: Dean was- What the hell was she thinking about. It may just as well have been real. Ghosts were real. She heard their voices several times. So, did that mean- Then, a moment of quiet, and Dean’s heartbeat back on the monitor. Emily looked at Sam. Maybe he'd heard it too.

“Sam,” Emily repeated. “Sam we gotta go.” Emily walked a couple of steps, Sam following her closely.

“You heard that, right?” Sam asked. “You heard Dean’s voice.”

“Yup.”

Emily sat in the car and opened John’s journal. Sam opened the city map and looked through it with his finger.

“You’re not gonna find anything there,” said Sam, starting the car. “I already looked.”

“Maybe you missed something,” she said. Sam shook his head. Emily took the coffee from the back of the car and slammed the journal close, letting her head hit the seat behind her.

“Look, the shop’s not far from here,” Sam said. “We get the Ouija board, get back, and hope we can talk to Dean.”

“Have you done this before?” Emily asked. Sam shook his head. “So… what if it doesn't work?”

“It will,” Sam said. “I think.”

They set up the board and Emily sat by Sam’s side as he did the talking: they were right, Dean was there. And he was chased by a reaper.

“Emily, we need to speak with dad,” said Sam. Emily crossed her arms.

“We don't need his help,” she said with a sigh. Sam looked away and bit the inside of his cheek.

“We need an expert,” he answered. Emily sighed again. Fuck, he was right. Emily nodded followed him out of Dean’s room and to John’s. It didn't matter that Sam was right, because John wasn't in his room.

“...and of course he’s gone,” she groaned. “Jesus Christ, of course-” Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I- Okay. You know what?” she said. “We’re hunters. We can figure out how to fight a reaper.” Sam looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “So does… uh-” she hesitated. “Does dad journal say anything?” Sam huffed and took the journal out. He flicked through it until he found a page on reapers.

“It doesn’t,” he sighed.

“So what now?”

“Emily, you’ve been holding Alex for hours. He’s gone. You need to let go.”

“NO! HE’S MY BROTHER, I-”

“Emily, be strong. Everything will be okay.”

“Tina, please, just- if you just give me five more minutes, he will wake up, Tina, I-”

Emily sat in the hallway, trying to rest her eyes for just a second. As if it could have helped with everything that was going on. She'd called Bobby, he'd said he'd look into it, but not to expect much. The urge of hurting herself was growing stronger, it was her fault Dean was dying, but she knew it wasn’t the time nor the place to act on it. So she needed to stop. Somehow. Sam sat next to her.

“I got ya something to eat,” he said. Emily smiled and took the burrito Sam was handing her. It looked empty. And soggy. She took a bite. It tasted sad. “You know none of this is your fault.” Emily looked away.

“Sam, it is,” she said, taking a bite out of her wrap. “Dean drove all night for me. He- He must have been exhausted when he arrived back to you. He wasn’t at his best and it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Sam insisted. “You’re a good shot. Everyone knows that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Emily said. “I’ve been hunting for two years, I should know how to handle my feelings or- or you know, whatever.” Sam crossed his arms.

“Is that what dad said?” he asked. Emily sighed.

“Yeah,” she said. Sam raised his eyebrows. “I know…” Emily trailed off and looked down at her arms for a moment. “I’m fine, is what I’m trying to say.”

“You sure?” Sam asked.

“I am. Everything's under control.”

“Emily-”

“I said I’m fine!” she yelled. The nurses around them stopped to check what was happening but quickly resumed their work. Emily started moving her leg up and down, nervous, while staring at Dean’s body.

“Do you want some?” She moved the burrito towards Sam. He shook his head.

“No, it's okay. I'm not hungry,” he said. Emily frowned.

“Dude, you’ve been here twenty four hours and all you've had is coffee,” she complained. “Just take a bite.”

“Really, I'm fine.” Emily sighed and closed the foil around the burrito, trying to remember the last time she saw Sam eat. Had she? Ever?

“Sam, when-” was all she could say before Sam talked again.

“This morning,” he said, looking away. Emily frowned. “Really, I’m fine.” Yeah, he wasn’t. Emily looked at him. Then at Dean. Then down at her arms. She couldn’t take another set of problems.

“Alright, so we’re both fine,” she said. “Let’s just agree on that,” Sam stood back up.

“Why don’t we take a walk?” he asked. “Take our minds off of things.” Emily sighed and looked at Dean’s body.

“Alright,” she said. She stood up and started walking with Sam. “You son of a bitch better be still alive when I come back, okay?” She said to Dean’s body before passing his room. Sam smiled.

“Hey, that’s my mom you’re talking about.”

“Bite me, Samuel.” She pushed him with a smile and kept walking. He went after her and pretended to bite her arm. For ten seconds, Emily forgot about everything happening and she ran from Sam who was trying to bite her. The second the elevator door closed, reality fell back on her with a good dose of guilt.

“I heard the cafeteria has very decent iced coffee,” said Sam, also serious.

“Whatever they have, it’s fine,” she whispered and pressed the button.

“So- uhm- sorry about- about what I said that night,” said Sam. “I know you said it doesn't matter, but I honestly feel like shit.” Emily stared in front of her, her hands in her overalls’ pockets. “I- I kinda feel like it's my fault if you broke down like that.”

“Don't take too much credit,” said Emily. “Things were bad even before we picked you up from Stanford. Things have always been bad.”

“Had anything like that happened before? Dean told me-” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Look- It's fine. It's in the past. I can handle another Winchester being an asshole.”

“I-”

“I thought you said you wanted to take your mind off things.” The elevator doors opened and Emily walked off. She entered the cafeteria and got two iced coffees. One for her, and one for Sam, who lagged a couple of steps behind her, silent.

They went back to Dean's floor, stepped out of the elevator and stopped right outside it's doors. Emily lowered the coffee cup and saw a doctor run inside of Dean's room. She rushed towards it, saw him sitting in his bed.

“Dean?!” She said, almost dropping her iced coffee.

“Emily?” Dean asked. “What are you doing here? I dropped you in South Dakota, didn't I?” he asked, confused.

“I- I drove here,” she said. Dean frowned. “What? I know how to drive!”

“Since when?” Sam asked, confused. Emily looked at her brothers.

“Since always, Bobby thought me,” she said. “Dude, what happened?” she asked Dean. “Are you-”

“Yeah, I- I’m fine,” he said. “Where’s dad?” he asked. Emily looked at Sam, a suspicion growing. He tightened his lips. “He's okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Emily said. “But he-” Someone knocked on the door. Emily’s smile vanished as she saw her dad walk in the room.

“Where the hell have you been?!” she asked. John sighed. He didn't seem upset by Emily's tone.

“I had some things to take care of.”

“Let me guess, you had to go get some supplies?” Emily asked.

“Come on, Emily,” Dean sighed. “Five minutes, okay? Just-”

“You shut up for once,” she yelled, raising a finger in his direction. “You went after the demon, didn’t you, John?!” Emily walked towards her father.

“I didn’t,” said John. “Can we not fight?” A moment of complete silence enveloped the room. Emily frowned and looked at Sam. Something was up. John Winchester would never let her speak to him that way. “You know, half the time we're fighting, you and Dean, me and Sam… I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads.” John said. “You know, I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?” Emily turned towards Dean. His features were painted with worry. Yeah, something was seriously wrong.

“Dad, are you okay?” asked Dean.

“Yeah. Yeah,” he whispered. “I'm just a little tired. Hey, son, would you, uh, maybe you and Emily could get me a cup of caffeine? I’m sure a walk would help her.” Sam nodded, but Emily didn't move. Sam grabbed her overalls and rugged lightly, signaling her it was definitely time to go.

“Did he seem weird to you too?” he asked as soon as they'd walked out of earshot.

“Yeah,” Emily said. “Very weird.”

When he sees me

From Waitress

While she was dusting a bookshelf, she found a -most likely misplaced- cook book. There was one single bookmark, on a pie recipe. She smiled and made her way into the kitchen with the recipe in hand. It had been years since she last baked anything. Since she cooked actual food. Her mom was the queen of baking, she always baked something. Every weekend of Emily’s life, up until the day her mother died, she’d had some sort of baked goods in her house. While she measured and mixed, she heard Dean work on the Impala right behind the house and Sam’s keyboard clicking in the library. If it wasn’t for the circumstances that forced them to take a break at Bobby’s lot, she would have almost been relaxed by the sudden domesticity and normality. But John being dead was nothing to be happy about. She had a suspicion that his death had something to do with the demon, but nobody wanted to talk about it.

“What the hell are you doing?” said Bobby as he entered the room. “Are you baking?” Emily shrugged.

“I don’t know, I- I guess I didn’t have anything better to do.” The man walked up to the cook book and raised his eyebrows.

“’m sure Dean would love this one,” he said. Emily extended her arm over the man to take a spoon, doing his best to ignore the not-so-subtle hint. “Maybe you can lure him out of that damn car.”

“Come on, Bobby, give him a break. His father is dead.” Bobby raised his eyebrows. He reached for a beer from the counter.

“You meant to say ‘our’ father, right?” Emily lifted her eyes off the bowl and scratched her nose, realizing the mistake. She felt some cake batter on her nose.

“Yeah. Sure.” Emily cleaned herself with the back of her hand and went back to mixing. Bobby huffed. “What?”

“Nothing-” he smiled. “Do you remember the first day John left you here?” he asked. Emily nodded.

“Yeah, you tried to shoot a rifle at us,” she said.

“I tried to shoot a rifle at him,” Bobby explained. “You're a kid, I wasn't gonna shoot ya.”

“I would hope so,” Emily said.

“Remember how you cleaned the table with a wet wipe before touching it?” Bobby asked. Emily chuckled.

“And that is the last time anybody has ever cleaned that table,” she said. Bobby shrugged. “Maybe I should have stayed here after high school,” she continued. “Seeing how things are going, it'd have been better for everyone.”

“Don't be stupid,” Bobby said. “You ain't done nothing wrong, okay sweetheart?” Emily ignored him. Bobby remained at the table behind her as she turned on the oven. “Apples are in the cabinet over there,” he said.

“I know,” Emily answered. “I lived here for almost a year, Bobby,” she smiled. “Don't worry.” Bobby sighed and finished his beer. He left the bottle on the sink next to Emily. “Trashcan,” she said. Bobby scowled at her. “Please.”

“Now, that's better,” he said, taking the bottle off the table. “You should ask Dean if he wants a slice.”

“I will,” she sighed. “But don't expect much, okay?”

Emily went out the door holding a paper plate with a slice of apple pie on it. After all, Bobby was right. Dean loved pie. Nothing wrong with bringing him some to taste. It could have been a peace offering after years of arguing over stuff that, given the state of things, didn't matter that much anymore. She walked around the house and arrived in the garage. Dean was lying under the Impala.

“I think you missed a spot,” said Emily. Dean rolled out of the car and looked at her, frowning. She pointed at the hood of the car, which was stripped away of his varnish. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Very funny,” he said. He sat up and dried his forehead. “Did you- Did you bake?” He pointed at the plate, dragging his hands on his mechanic overalls while standing up.

“Not much else to do,” she answered. Dean cleaned his hands on a towel and approached her. She gave him the plate. “And you know- since you’re the pie expert around here, I brought you some.” Dean frowned. “I promised it's not poisonous.” He looked at Emily for a second before taking the spoon and tasting the pie. He raised his eyebrows. Emily smiled and moved some tools away from a table, making space for the pie. Dean followed her every step. “What are you doing?” he asked. Emily looked at him, confused. “Did Sam put you up to this?” he walked closer to her, reaching for the pie with the spoon. “Bobby?”

“Are you asking me if Sam or Bobby asked me to bake a pie?”

“I don’t know- Did they?” Emily frowned and hesitated, confused.

“No…?” said Emily. “Why?” Dean and looked away. Emily was about to roll her eyes, complain, accuse him of always thinking she was up to something, but then decided not to. After all his faster- her- their father was dead. Starting a fight was a bad idea. “Look, just- eat it and tell me if it’s good,” she said. Emily walked away from the garage and stumbled into Sam just around the corner.

“Hey-” He said. “Is- Is Dean back there? I need to talk to him.” Emily nodded. “Did he-” Oh, here we go again, she thought, he wants to know about John. Dad. He wants to know about dad.

“I didn’t ask,” said Emily. Sam frowned. “I just brought him food, that's all.” Sam crossed his arms.

“How did you know I was going to ask about dad?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Bobby asked me like- an hour ago.” she sighed. Sam looked at her and frowned. “What? It's all you two are talking about, it's not hard to figure out.” Emily looked at Sam.

“Right,” he said. “Of course.” It wasn’t twenty minutes later that Sam and Dean came back in and announced they were leaving.

“Where are we going?” asked Emily, looking up from her book.

“We,” said Dean, pointing at him and Sam, “...are going to look into something Sam found in one of dad’s phones.” Sam disappeared in another room. “You’re staying here.”

“What?!” Emily almost choked on the beer she was drinking. “Why?”

“You cracked hard, okay? Nothing wrong with resting some more.” Sam said.

“Dean almost died!” she said, raising an eyebrow. Dean looked at her. “Shouldn't he be resting?” Sam gestured at her to shut up and rolled his eyes. It took Dean a second to answer.

“We’ll be back as soon as you can rewatch one of your stupid musicals,” he said. Emily rolled her eyes and tried to complain. “Final answer, Emily.”

Sam knocked on Emily’s open door a couple of hours later.

“Hey.” Emily half smiled, still deep into one of Bobby's lore books. “What’s up?”

“We need to talk,” said Sam, closing the door behind him. “Something weird is happening.”

“What?” Emily looked up at Sam, alarmed. He sighed, hesitating. “Sam, you’re kinda scaring me.”

“Recently, did you-” he looked into the hallway, nervous. “I know what you think about dad.” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“I beg your pardon?” Emily sat straighter in her bed.

“I know you didn’t see him as your father and I know- I know you think his death is tied to the demon.” Emily blinked, trying to understand if it was a joke or a very weird dream. “Nope, not joking,” said Sam. Did Sam read her journal? “Nope. Didn’t do that either.” Emily’s eyes widened.

“How did-”

“Telepathy,” he explained. “Accidental, as far as I can tell.” Emily looked at Sam. “Like earlier, you- you knew what I was about to ask you and that day at the post office, I knew-”

“Sam, I was just thinking out loud and- telepathy isn’t a thing!” said Emily, standing up.

“So weren’t vampires.” Sam said. “And our visions.” He sat on the bed. “Look, it’s weird, I know- but I think we should look into it.” Emily sat on the table that rested in a corner of her room.

“So, what- what do we do? Did you tell Dean?”

“Not until we figure this out,” sighed Sam. “I don’t- I don’t want to give him more to worry about.”

“Right.” Emily sighed.

“So… if this is telepathy… does that mean-” I can do this? Sam’s voice reached from the back of her neck like he was in her brain.

“Jesus- what the hell, Sam?!” she said, scratching her neck.

“Okay, well, didn't like that,” said Sam, also reaching for the back of his neck. “It’s so weird.”

“Yeah- next time, give me a heads up, okay?” Sam looked behind him, checking for Dean's presence.

“You try now,” he said a second later, a hint of excitement crossing his features before Emily answered.

“What? No!” Emily crossed her arms. “Sam, this is not a party trick, it’s-” Emily shivered. “Shouldn’t we find out what this is first?”

“Yeah, but- it’s also kind of cool, right?” he said. Emily sighed. It would have been cool if it wasn’t fucking terrifying. “That’s what I said.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Just give it a try.”

“Okay,” she sighed. She focused on Sam. Come on, he's standing right in front of you. This has to be easy.

“Don't worry about it,” Sam said. Emily frowned. Oh. She'd done it. By mistake. “Why does it tickle?!”

Emily was sitting in the library, going through a lore book without really reading it. Dean and Sam had woken up early to leave and she hadn't been able to fall back to sleep. Someone knocked on the door, and Bobby, sitting across from her with his feet on the table, looked at the CCTV in the corner of the room. He put down his feet.

“Kid, you should go downstairs,” he said. Emily looked at him and frowned. He stood up and grabbed her from an arm. “Don't make a sound, okay?”

“Bobby what's going on?” The strangers knocked again. “Who is that?” Bobby dragged her to the basement and opened what looked like a cabinet, but actually had a double back.

“In there,” he said. “And stay quiet.” Emily didn't have the time to ask any more questions, that Bobby had already locked the double back and closed the cabinet. She heard a key click, and Bobby's steps back upstairs. She couldn't hear anything anymore, until there were more steps from multiple people coming into the basement.

“As you can see, officer, nothing to see here,” Bobby said. “I don't know who tipped ya, but there ain't no kid named Emily here,” he continued.

“Sir, we've had multiple witnesses calling to say she was seen here, often escorted by two older men,” said a second voice. “You understand, this is a missing person's case, mister Singer, it's in your best interest to collaborate.”

“And I'd be happy to, if I'd seen a kid in this house in the last twenty years, officer,” Bobby said. “This kid, you said she went missing from where?”

“Portland,” said a third voice. Emily held her breath. “About four years ago, that's all I can disclose.”

“And how’d a kid get here from Oregon, officer? It's a long way,” Bobby said. “I think you might have the wrong address.”

“Do you mind if we look around?” said the second voice. The steps echoed from around the room, and when they got closer to her, they stopped. The cabinet door rattled. “Do you have a key for this?”

“I should, yeah,” Bobby’s keys echoes through the room as he took them out of his overalls. “Let me see… Try this.” The door rattled again. “No? Mhh, wait, maybe it's this one.” Bobby had the officer try three different keys before the cabinet opened. Emily saw some light shine through the fake back, and held her breath. “It's old, I was meaning to get it to the landfill next week.” The double backing rattled as the cop tried to move it. Emily tried to flatten her body on the actual cabinet, hoping not to be noticed. She had never once thought about the fact someone might have reported her as missing. Surely never thought someone in Sioux Falls might have seen her, recognized her as the kid that went missing from Oregon, and reported her. How did that even happen?

“Okay, mister Singer, everything seems in order here,” said the officer, closing the cabinet door. “Sorry to have disturbed you, we will let you carry on with your day.”

“It's no problem, officer,” said Bobby. And just like that, the cops were gone. Bobby came back into the basement a few minutes later. “Coast is clear,” he said, opening the double back to let it out. “you okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” Emily dusted off her overalls. “How did you know they were looking for me?” she asked.

“I better go stock up on food, you're not going on supply runs for a while,” he answered, trying to ignore her question.

“Bobby, what-”

“Don't worry about it, okay?” he said. “They're gone, they're not gonna come back if we play our cards well.”

“So what now? I never get out of the house again?”

“We're gonna have to figure something out, but don't worry about it now,” Bobby said, climbing the stairs. “I'll talk to the sheriff, see if she can take care of it.”

“How?” she asked. “Bobby, this isn't a minor thing we can just erase off my file, they're looking for me all the way from Oregon, it's a fucking national search! I can't-”

“Right now, the only thing you have to worry about is cleaning your room,” Bobby interrupted her. Emily frowned. Bobby Singer asking her to clean? Something was up. “I'm serious, it's a mess in there, you better go and clean it up or I'll do it for ya.”

“Whatever,” Emily sighed, walking past him. “But you're gonna have to answer me at some point.”

Bobby disappeared for the entire rest of the day, and came back after Emily had already had dinner. She was sitting on a chair, feet propped on the table, barely skimming through a book, when the door slammed close.

“That was a long supply run,” she commented, closing the book. “How much longer do I have to play Rapunzel for?”

“You're not playing Rapunzel, you're just keeping a low profile,” Bobby answered, putting two grocery bags down on the table. “I'm not gonna force you to stay here, just- don't get into trouble, okay?”

Sam and Dean had been gone for two days, Bobby was working on something in the garage, and Emily had just about run out of stuff to read. She put on her shoes and walked to the park. She was due to get back to hunting soon anyway, she could have used a run. Not a lot of people ran at the Sioux Falls park, and it was usually old people doing laps with their friends. That day, however, there was also another person that wasn't sixty. He was a dark-haired guy, tall, wearing a sweated down tank top and Bluetooth earphones. Emily remembered seeing him at school a couple of times when she was graduating, and maybe having an AP calculus class with him. He seemed to remember her, too, because at her third lap, he reached her.

“Sorry,” he said, running alongside her. “You're- You're Emily, right?” he asked. Emily panicked. Could the school be the reason they were looking for her in South Dakota? What if he was actually working with the cops? “We had AP calc together a couple years ago,” he continued. Emily didn't answer, her mind still running a million different hypotheses and scenarios of how a twenty- something year old could actually lead to the cops bringing her back to foster care. “I don't know if you remember, I'm Daniel,” he said. Okay, fuck it, at this point I just look rude, she thought.

“Hey,” she smiled. “Yeah, I- I think I remember you,” she said. “I think I gave you some notes you were missing or- or something.”

“Yeah, you did,” he said. “Definitely saved my senior year.” Emily chuckled. “So, what brings you back here? I thought with a brain like yours you'd be off to Stanford or- I don't know, some big name school.” Touché, Daniel, touché.

“Yeah,” she said. “It- it didn't quite work out that way, so I'm back.” Daniel pointed to the hotdog stand that sat a few feet outside the park and Emily followed him there. “What about you?”

“I'm going to USF,” he explained. “I know it doesn't look like it, but it's actually a good school.” Daniel took some money out of his pocket. “You want something?” he asked.

“Oh, no-” Emily smiled. “None for me, thanks, I- I just had lunch.” Daniel paid for a hotdog and then went to sit on a bench. “What are you majoring in?” she asked.

“Sports Marketing,” Daniel said with a grimace. “I know it's not some crazy interesting thing, but I like it,” he took a bite of hotdog. “Plus, my dad works at the sports centers, so I might be able to get work as soon as I graduate, which is good.”

“No, it's- it's a good major,” Emily said, trying her hardest to smile. That had to be the most boring conversation she'd ever been in. And he'd interrupted her run for a hot dog.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked. Emily's brain jolted awake, panic settling in. There was no way the boring encounter was going to end into a boring invitation to a boring party. “There's a party down at a buddy’s house, nothing crazy, you know- just- just a college party.” Okay, way to make it sound boring. And yet, it was less boring than staying home staring at a lore book all night without reading it while Bobby complained of back pain.

“Yeah that- that sounds fun,” she said. “I'll definitely come by.” Daniel smiled. Ah, shit. I just agreed to a date.

“Cool!” said Daniel. “Here, give me your phone, I’ll put in my address for you.” The good old ‘give me your phone’ trick. Thought Emily. And now you’re going to tell me you also saved your number, just in case, right? “I also saved my number, you know- just in case.” Okay, Daniel from AP calc, I’ll play this game. Maybe this is the time I actually get to have sex instead of just lying about it to Dean.

“Mind if I text you to double check?” she asked. “You know, just in case.”

“Bobby, do we have any beer left?” asked Emily, entering Bobby’s house, throwing her tennis shoes in a corner. “And- can you give me a lift into town tonight?” Bobby appeared from inside the kitchen.

“What do you need a lift for?” he asked. Sam also walked out behind Bobby.

“A p- Sam? Are you guys back already?” she asked. Bobby and Sam remained silent. “I- I was gonna go to a party…?”

“A party?” Bobby squinted. “What happened to keeping a low profile?” Emily tried to find a way out for herself, but both Bobby and Sam seemed determined to get answers from her.

“I was invited,” she said, rolling her eyes and walkinf in the kitchen between Sam and Bobby. “I met a guy and he invited me to a party.”

“And how old is this guy?” asked Sam. Emily grabbed a beer off the fridge, but Sam took it away from her and held it above his head. “Speak.”

“Jesus Christ- He's in college, okay? He was in my AP calc class.” Emily tried to get the beer back. “Sam, give me the beer!”

“No- You’re sixteen, no beer for you,” he said. He placed the beer on top of a counter. “And no parties, either.”

“I used to carry a gun,” she said. “How- How can I carry a gun but not drink beer?”

“Welcome to America, sweetheart,” said Bobby. “I can’t give you a lift, but you know who could?” He pointed to Sam.

“I’m not giving her a lift to a college party,” said Sam.

“Oh, come on!” said Emily. “Like- I can shoot, I can kill vampires and burn bodies but I cannot go to a party?”

“You’re not the problem, college boys are,” said Sam. “I don’t trust them to… well, not to take advantage of you.”

“I can take care of myself, Samuel.” Emily crossed her arms. “I just need someone to drive me there and pick me up.”

“You want me to wait for you like a dad outside a concert?” Sam frowned. “No chance.” Dean appeared behind him and Sam handed him the beer. Emily scoffed.

“You should go to the party, Sammy,” said Dean. “It’d be good for you, you know- wind down, get drunk, maybe get some action.”

“Why don’t you go?” said Sam.

“I’m twenty seven dude- I can’t go to college parties.” Emily tried to get the beer back from Dean, but he also held it above his head.

“What’s wrong with you two?” she asked. “Why can’t I drink beer all of a sudden?!”

“Oh, you can,” said Dean. “But this was the last one and I asked Sam to keep it safe for me,” he continued with a smile. Sam huffed. “Sorry, kid.” Dean walked away from the room showing off his beer.

“So- lift or not?” said Emily. “I have to get ready.”

“Dude- no lift. And no party,” Sam said.

“You don’t get to decide that!” said Emily. “I’m going to the party- you can either come with me or stay home.” Sam looked at Bobby, who shrugged. He sighed and scratched his nose.

“Okay, you know what-” Sam said. “Fine. I'll go with ya.”

Emily and Sam entered the car and started the engine.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this-” he said, merging in the road. “You really didn’t have anything else to wear besides denim overalls?”

“Hey!” said Emily. “These are my party overalls.”

“And they are different because?”

“Because they are not stained with blood. And I haven’t defiled any grave while wearing them,” she explained. Sam chuckled. “Also- you’re wearing a Stanford t-shirt. You can’t judge me on my outfit.”

“Yeah- It’s my going out t-shirt,” he said. “No blood stains.” Emily shook her head. “So- What’s the plan?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- you like this dude that invited you, so- I guess you want to- uhm- attempt an approach tonight?” Emily’s cheeks flushed with blood. Sam huffed.

“What- Wait, am I supposed to do it?” Asked Emily. “Does he like- expect me to, I don’t know- suck his d-”

“Woah, okay- Not where I was going with this, but thanks for the visual-” Sam shook his head and sighed. “Listen, do I have to give you the ‘you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do’ talk?”

“Dude, I was a child prodigy. I’m immune to peer pressure,” said Emily. “No, I- I was just wondering if I'm supposed to be the one who gets it started.”

“Not usually,” Sam shrugged. “But I don't think he's gonna say no if you do.”

“Great,” Emily sighed. She crossed her arms and remained silent. She’d been thinking about losing her virginity for a while. Trying to plan it like she planned the day she’d wash her hair based on how long she thought gigs were going to be. But maybe- maybe rather than with a random man from a bar, doing it with a college student who showed actual interest for like- half a second, would be a better idea. Maybe? That was the reason she'd agreed on going to the party in the first place, but seeing it approach her minute by minute made it more real. And scary. Sam glared at her a couple of times before talking again.

“You realize I can hear you, right?” he said. “Telepathy.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Look, I wish I could tell you to, you know- wait to do it with someone who loves you, but-”

“Samuel, I swear to god-” Emily covered her face with her hands.

“It’s just- our life is… well it’s not the best when it comes to long term relationships, so, I mean- If you really want to, just- go for it.”

“Okay-” Emily dragged her hands across her face. “I don’t- I don’t need you to give me the talk, okay?” Sam parked along the road.

“Just, you know- use a con-” Emily punched Sam’s shoulder. He laughed. “Okay, okay- sorry!”

“Alright then-” said Emily, crossing her arms. The music echoed inside her ribcage and made her body tremble to the rhythm of the terrible techno tunes that were blasting out of the speakers. “What- Where's Daniel?” She tried to look for him in the crowd. Sam bent over to speak in her ear.

“We should get you a drink-” said Sam, dragging Emily through the house trying not to bump into anyone. He arrived at a table filled with alcohol and soft drinks. Emily couldn't pay attention to what he was mixing, too distracted by the various groups and activities around the room.

A group of people were dancing next to the speakers, a couple of people were sitting in a corner of the room, minding their business. There were two- maybe three people on a couch making out, and a group of dudes in a corner, surrounded by a thick white smoke.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked Sam. He gave her a red cup and frowned.

“Drink. You'll figure it out,” he said. Emily looked inside the cup, it was transparent, but had some bubbles on the walls and at the bottom. “It's gin lemon.” Emily took a sip and looked some more for Daniel around the room. When she saw him, she froze. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe lying about her age and having sex with a twenty-something years old was not a good idea. Sam pushed her one step forward. She turned and he was already gone into the crows. Emily sighed and walked towards Daniel.

“Hey!” she said. Daniel turned towards her and smiled.

“Hey! You made it!” Emily nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “So- nice party you have going on,” she said. How the fuck do I talk to people? She thought to herself.

“Thanks! You- Uh- I like your overalls,” he said.

“Oh, thanks, I…” Emily hesitated. “I love overalls.” What the fuck does that mean? She thought. Is he serious? Or is he trying to bully me? Why am I even-

Emily, just talk to the guy, she heard Sam's voice in the back of her head. She scratched her neck and ignored him.

“Do you- Do you want a drink?” Asked Daniel. Emily accepted and Daniel gestured at her to give him her cup. She looked at it. It was still full.

Emily, don't-

Sam's telepathy wasn't fast enough, and Emily downed the entire content of the cup with a grimace of disgust before handing it to Daniel. He chuckled.

“In a rush to get drunk?” he asked.

“Kinda,” Emily said. “I- I don't really go to parties, so this is- this is making me nervous.” Daniel gave her her cup back, filled with more transparent, sparkling liquid. He smiled.

“Really? Me neither, I- My buddy convinced me to throw this party while my parents are out of town.” Emily took a sip of whatever was in her cup. She didn't recognize the taste, which made it not gin and not whiskey. It was something else. Something low-key disgusting.

“Oh, yeah- peer pressure is the worst,” said Emily, taking another sip of her drink. Daniel looked at her and frowned.

“You don't like tequila, do you?” he asked. Emily looked at him and took a second to figure out what he was saying. Tequila. The drink was made with tequila.

“Uh- not too much. But it's fine. This will do its job of getting me drunk.” She smiled. As music blasted through the house and people danced and pushed each other through doors and rooms, Emily remained silent, looking at an indefinite point behind Daniel. She could see Sam sitting on a couch in the next room. Daniel made a drink for himself.

“Do you- do you want to go somewhere quieter?” He asked. Emily's eyes jolted back on Daniel. She hesitated. Don't nod too fast. She thought. But also don't keep him waiting. But also, that was fast. Like, talked for two seconds fast. Emily opened her mouth to talk. What does he mean by somewhere quieter? Where are we-

Emily-

“S-Sure- Yeah, why not?”

Five minutes later, Emily found herself in Daniel's parents' bed. They were kissing, his hand was going places northbound and her overalls were already half-way to being off of her. God I hope Sam can't hear me now. To that thought, Emily's body stiffened up. Daniel pulled away.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “We- We can stop if-”

“What?” said Emily. She dried the corner of her lips with her hand. “No, I-I’m okay.”

This isn't what I imagined. She thought to herself. As Daniel’s hands traveled all over her, Emily laid on her back, unsure on what to do, what to say, what to touch and how to touch it.

Was it sex? Yes. Technically.

Was it good sex? For lack of a comparison, Emily had to abstain from answering that question to herself, but she could only hope that was not how sex was supposed to feel. She could only hope sex was supposed to be better than that.

Emily didn't know if it was Daniel's fault, if maybe being stuck in the same damn position for twenty fucking minutes was just getting boring, but having a man go in and out of her wasn't that fun. Porn lied. Emily stared at the ceiling above her, her body bouncing up and down the mattress, a hand around Daniel's arm and a series of rhythmic moans coming out of her just because she thought they had to. She was feeling close to nothing. The condom had been rubbing back and forth for way too long and it was starting to hurt. If that was sex, sex sucked.

Daniel stopped. Jesus Christ- is it over? She thought to herself. Daniel moved away from above her and laid on the bed, next to her. Oh- thank god-

“Okay.” Daniel sighed and took off the condom. “I- I have to tell you something.” Emily turned towards him. “I- I never had sex before this,” he said. “I- I take it it wasn't that good, sorry-”

“What?” Emily raised her eyebrows. “No it's- it's okay, we all have to start somewhere.” Probably should have said I was also a virgin but I guess it's too late now.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course. It was alright.”

Emily entered the car with a sigh. She kicked her shoes away and crossed her arms on the seat. Sam started the engine.

“So?” he said. “I saw you leaving with Daniel.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you…?”

“Yeah.”

“Was it-”

“Yeah, it was alright.” She lied. Sam looked at her for a second but kept driving.

“Okay, now try with the truth,” he said.

“Sorry to disappoint,” said Emily, cold. The whole thing had left her annoyed. Of course the only person (kinda) her age to ever show interest in her was a virgin and didn’t know what he was doing. Of fucking course. Sam huffed and started to pull inside a drive through.

“I mean- it's usually bad.” Emily ignored him and looked at the menu through the window.

“I’ll take a cheeseburger with fries,” she said. “And… ask if they have the Snickers ice cream sundae.” Sam ordered the food and dropped the brown paper bag on Emily's lap.

“Come on, don't be shy,” said Sam. “How did it really go?” Emily opened the bag and sighed.

“Boring,” she said. She took a bite of her cheeseburger. Sam kept driving towards Bobby's house. Emily looked inside the bag. A cheeseburger, fries, and an ice cream. “Did you not get anything?”

“No- I'm not hungry,” said Sam. “I had some chips at the party.” Emily nodded. “So- how do you feel, having ticked this item off your bucket list?”

“I feel exactly as before. Just- I smell like condom now.”

The following night, Emily was cooking dinner when Sam approached her, closing the kitchen door behind him.

“Bobby, do we have any…” she said before turning and realizing it was Sam. “Oh, sorry, I thought-”

“We need to talk,” he said. Emily lowered the stove and turned.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s about the telepathy thing.” Now that she was looking at him, she realized he was not moving his mouth at all. None of that conversation was happening. It was all telepathy. Sam also frowned.

“I think we should tell Dean,” she made sure to articulate every single word. She didn't know why she thought that all of a sudden, but she did. “We can’t risk him finding out the wrong way.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m here to talk about!” Sam walked closer. “I couldn’t find anything on the lore, but I think- I think we should tell him you know? He should hear it from us.”

“Hear about what?” asked Dean’s voice behind Sam. He moved, revealing Dean, leaning on the door frame holding a beer. Sam and Emily exchanged a look.

“Cool, he was right here!” said Emily, rolling her eyes. Sam crossed his arms. Dean remained silent, waiting for an explanation.

So? Emily heard Sam’s voice and couldn’t help but squirm at the weird tickling sensation. Say something!

No, you say something! Sam squirmed too. Dean frowned.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” he asked. Emily and Sam exchanged a quick look. Sam spoke first.

“So, you know how me and Emily have these… visions?” Dean nodded.

“Your mojo-shit, yes.” Dean crossed his arms.

“Well, it might be more than just visions,” said Sam. Dean’s expression changed. He wasn’t just annoyed anymore. He was worried.

“As in?” he asked. Sam hesitated and looked back at Emily.

“We- we kinda found out we can… uh- talk telepathically.” Dean looked at Emily. Then at Sam. His lips parted and his eyebrows raised, surprise having the best of him.

“What?!” Dean said, a couple of seconds later. “How long?”

“Well, that’s-” Sam tried to find a way to soften the fact they’d known for sure for almost a week.

“How long?!” Dean repeated.

“I’ve known for a while. I told Emily the day we went to see Ellen.” Dean sighed and traced his face with his hand.

“Alright so, what is this, you… send each other MMS of your feelings?” Emily leaned on the sink and failed to hide a chuckle, but Dean’s scowl put her laugh to rest.

“Dean, we’re still figuring it out, it doesn’t have to be a big deal-” she said. Dean scoffed.

“Not a big deal?” he repeated. “Dude, you’re becoming the x-men, how is it not a big deal?”

“Jesus Christ, stop calling me dude!” answered Emily, frustrated. She pushed herself off the sink. “And also- sure, it’s weird and- and we definitely need to look into it, but it’s not dangerous!” Dean rolled his eyes. “It's just- shared thoughts, it's not like our mind might explode or something!”

“It might!” said Dean. “How do you know it won't?”

“Okay, can you two not start?” said Sam. Emily sighed, leaning back on the sink. Dean walked away from the room. Sam sighed and looked at Emily for one second before following Dean through the house.

Disappear

From Beetlejuice - The Musical

“Are you sure you want to come?” said Sam as Emily packed her stuff, going back and forth in Bobby’s house and looking for her things.

“Jesus- yes, I am sure! Stop asking that,” she said. “I am not staying here as Dean shoots a random guy.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“I will not shoot a random guy!” He said.

“Yeah, well- the vision said otherwise.” Emily zipped her bag shut. Sam opened his mouth to talk, but telepathy was faster. It's too dangerous. “Come on Samuel, it’s just one job!” she said. Dean frowned. He didn’t like it when they used their powers, but most times it wasn’t intentional. One would think something too hard and the other would pick up on it faster than words could express it.

“I’m just-” Sam looked at Dean behind him. “We’re just looking out for you.” Emily picked up her bag and looked at him. “The visions are usually tied to Azazel, so I- We want to make sure you…” Sam trailed off. He was trying to find a nice, polite way of saying ‘I don’t want you to freak the fuck out and punch me in the nose again’, but he had forgotten about telepathy. Emily already knew. She raised her eyebrows. Dean spoke to break the silence.

“What Sam’s trying to say-”

“I know what Sam’s trying to say,” said Emily.

“Is that we don’t want you to go all shades of crazy again. Twice is enough.” Sam turned towards Dean and raised his hands.

“What the hell, man?” he sighed.

“What? Someone had to say it.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Emily said. “Either of you has been driving me anywhere close to crazy as you used to,” said Emily. “Now can we go?”

“Alright,” said Sam. “But you’re glued to my ass.” Emily rolled her eyes and made her way into the car. She took place in the passenger's seat. Sam looked at her through the doorway and scoffed, but took place in the back in silence. Dean turned on the engine and drove off the property.

“So, again, what was the vision about?” he asked.

“Well, we were in a room with other people. One of them looked like a nurse… the blonde one, right?” said Emily. Sam nodded in agreement. “And then there was a guy tied up and you shot him.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah. But something’s weird, I-” She hesitated a second and looked at Sam. “Usually the visions are about the demon, right? But- there was no such thing.”

“Well- then I am sure the guy had it coming,” said Dean.

“I hope so,” said Sam. The car went silent for a second.

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Dean. “I wouldn’t waste an innocent man.” Sam raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t!”

“I never said you would!” Sam said, looking away.

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Sam repeated. “Look, we don't know what it is. But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Emily looked at Sam, then at Dean, confused at the tension between her siblings.

Sam, what’s going on? Sam scratched the back of his neck. Why are you being so weird?

He didn’t tell you? Emily looked at Sam through the rearview mirror. Dean cleared his voice. Dad made a deal with the demon to bring back Dean. That’s why he’s dead.

“HE DID WHAT?!” she screamed, making Dean jump in his seat, the car losing his straight course for a second. He was opening his mouth to complain, but Emily talked over him. “And you didn’t think it was an important thing to tell me?!” Dean looked even more confused.

“What are you even talking about?!” asked Dean. He looked at her, then the street, then at Sam through the rearview mirror. Sam exhaled and adjusted himself in his seat.

“Dad,” he said.

“Dude- I knew you were doing your freaky mind games behind my back!” said Dean, looking at Sam through the rearview mirror. “We have to put down some rules-”

“Dean!” said Emily, interrupting him. “Dad made a deal with the demon?!” Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.

”I really don't feel like getting into it right now,” he said, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel.

“Why not? I have a right to know!” said Emily. Dean’s expression changed. He turned towards Emily.

“I said-”

“And I said-”

Emily, come on… I can tell you about it. Emily stopped talking and turned towards Sam.

“No! He’s the one who should have told me in the first place- I want to hear it from him.” Emily said, turning in her seat. Dean tried to complain about the telepathy again, but Emily once again talked over him. “I know you tend to forget it sometimes, but technically- he was my dad too!”

“Technically?!” said Dean. “He was your dad too- period! What does ‘technically’ mean?”

“Don’t change the subject!” said Emily. “What happened?!”

“Not now,” said Dean. Emily tried to speak, but it was Dean to talk over her. “EMILY, I said NOT NOW!” His voice roared through the car and shut everyone up. Emily didn’t dare to look back at Sam. She crossed her arms, sighed, and stared out the window. “Finally,” said Dean after a couple seconds of silence. “I really didn’t miss having you always up in my fucking business.” Emily huffed.

“Dean, come on-” said Sam, a hint of frustration coming through his voice.

About ten hours later, they stopped for gas and for food. Emily didn't said a word and just left for the bathroom.

“Ten-” said Dean.

“Yeah, I know,” said Emily, not bothering to look back. She took a detour inside the gas station to buy food. And she had to guess Sam and Dean did too, because she heard their voices behind a pile of boxes filled with all kinds of chips.

“Dean, you’re gonna have to have a conversation with her at some point,” said Sam. “I can’t keep putting off your fires.”

“Then don’t,” said Dean. “I don’t even know why we still lug her around. Dad’s dead. She can go back to Portland for all I care.” Emily’s blood felt like it was on fire, the confirmation of what she’d always thought heaving down on her way more than she thought it was going to.

“Dean, you know that’s not-” Sam stopped talking. Without saying another word, he walked around the boxes, grabbed Emily and dragged her out the back so Dean wouldn’t see them.

“What- Sam, let me go!” said Emily, shoving Sam’s hand away from her arm. He crossed his arms and his lips tensed in something Emily could only describe as a bitch face. “What, you think I don’t know what Dean thinks about me?” Sam sighed.

“He doesn’t hate you-”

“No?” Emily scoffed. “Then what was that?!” She pointed inside the gas station. “You know what?! I’ll- I’ve got my stuff, I’ll just stay in Portland. Dean’s right, you don’t need to-”

“Emily, we’re not leaving you in Portland,” said Sam. “He wouldn’t-” Sam stopped talking and looked around. Dean would. That was the problem. Both him and Emily knew that. “Look- I’ll talk to him, okay?” Emily crossed her arms and nodded, annoyed. “What do you want to eat?” He asked.

“I don’t know, I- Just get me whatever you get,” she said.

“I- I’m not hungry,” said Sam. Emily raised her eyebrows. “I had a big breakfast.” Yeah, right. She thought. And again, Sam gave her the bitch face.

“Just… I don’t know, a salad. And a pack of cigarettes.” Sam rolled his eyes and disappeared back in the gas station. Emily walked to the bathroom. She touched her back pocket and felt her knife. She locked herself in the stall. Nobody was going to know if she did it again. The important thing was Dean didn’t know. Sam probably would have covered for her if she asked him to. Probably. Point was, Dean hated her. He wanted to get rid of her, and after four years of being siblings, he finally had a way out.

Dean wanted to get rid of her. He wouldn’t care if she died. Maybe he would be glad she did. She closed her hand around the closed knife. Come on. She thought to herself. You said you were going to find a better way. But just as always, she found herself questioning the point of finding a better way. Alcohol? Drugs? Drown it in sex like Dean did? How was that any better? The sounds of the gas station got more and more distant and were replaced by the words ‘Dean wants you to die’, as she looked at the cut on her arm slowly being filled with blood. It was almost an out of body experience, where she looked at herself from above as she dragged the blade across the skin a second time. She held her breath as someone entered the bathroom. The door opened and with a scared yelp she let go of the knife. She looked up. It was Sam. He dragged his hand across his face.

“How did you even know I was here?” Asked Emily. She didn’t bother trying to hide what she was doing.

“Apparently, if you get upset enough, telepathy works even if we’re not close.” He sighed. “You know, of all the ways there are to-”

“Sam, can we not?” said Emily. “It’s fine. I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Someone has to,” he said. Emily crossed her arms, trying to hide a hiss of pain. “Come on, give me your arm.” He took a box of bandaids out of his jacket.

“What- do you just carry those around?” She asked. Sam smirked.
“No, I- I stole them from the gas station while I was trying to find you,” he said. Emily shook her head. “Next time just say something, okay? There has to be a better way.” Emily nodded, but she knew, deep down, she was never going to go to Sam for help. Asking for help wasn't something she did. Ever. Even when her life was normal, she never asked for help. She never needed help.

“We need to hurry, Dean's going to be mad, we’re taking longer than ten minutes,” she whispered. Sam looked at her and sighed, resigned.

“It's going to be okay. I’ll figure out an excuse,” he said as he glued the bandaid on her arm. “I got you a salad, is it okay?”

“It's fine,” she said.

Emily sat in the car and took place in the back. Dean looked at her through the rearview mirror as Sam sat in the front seat.

“Where the hell were you?” said Dean. “I said ten minutes you- you must have taken like half an hour!” Emily looked at him and sighed. She crossed her arms.

“Sorry,” she whispered. Dean frowned, probably surprised she didn't argue back. He turned on the engine and drove out of the gas station.

“So, you're from Portland, right?” said Dean. Emily ignored him and looked out the window. “Excited to be back home?” When he saw he wasn't getting any response, Dean sighed. “Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you this morning, okay? I’m just-”

“It's fine,” said Emily. She didn't take her eyes off the trees racing outside the window. With the corner of her eye, she saw Dean turn towards Sam and Sam gesturing something at him. “Last time I was in Portland my whole family died, so- No, I am not excited,” she said. Dean looked at her through the rearview mirror and didn't answer. “I just hope you don't shoot my ex boyfri-” She caught herself in the middle of a truth she did not want Sam and Dean to know. The car came to an abrupt halt.

“What did you say?!” said Dean. Sam turned in his seat.

“Nothing.”

“No, you said- Do you know the guy?!” asked Dean. Emily looked at him, then at Sam, and sighed.

“Yeah.”

“Wh- See?! That's why you don't work cases in your hometown!” Emily rolled her eyes. “Don't give me the attitude- You're staying at the motel, I don't-”

“What?! No! You are not benching me again, I can handle myself!”

“Can you?!” he said. “Show me your arms.” Emily looked at him. She looked at Sam. He intervened.

“I checked her,” he said. “She's clean. And she only tagged along because she said she was going to be with me, right?” Dean ignored him. “Really, Dean. She's okay to work a job.”

“Whatever,” said Dean. “But if I see one false step I drive you back to the motel and lock you in.” Emily scoffed and looked away. “But from now on, no more secrets. Okay?” He waited for an answer. “Emily!”

“Yes sir,” she said, a hint of mockery in her voice. Dean’s knuckles whitened against the steering wheel.

“Anything else you want to tell us before we get there?” he asked.

“I-” Emily sighed. “I also know another person from the vision,” she said. “The blonde girl, I- We were close friends when I was in high school.”

“Emily, I swear to God-” Dean dragged his hand across his face. “Okay, anybody else?” Emily shook her head. “Are you sure?”

“Jesus Christ, yes!” said Emily. “I am sure!” Dean was about to say something, when he encountered Sam's gaze. He was giving him the look. The one Emily could never figure out what it meant. That seemed to shut Dean up for long enough.

Emily saw the Portland, 3 miles sign and sighed. That time had come. The time to be back in her town after years of ignoring it, shoving it down her brain until she could pretend she never had a life before the Winchesters. She looked at the familiar skyline and crossed her arms. She used to be happy there. She tried to stay quiet, but when Emily saw her old ballet studio, she scoffed and turned away from the window.

You still sure you want to be here? said Sam's voice. Emily scratched her neck.

No.

Dean parked the car on the main- and only- street in Rivergrove. Emily had been there every summer for her entire childhood. It wasn’t a big city in any way: kids biking around by themselves by age eight, chubby cops eating donuts. And Mark. Mark used to be in the military and he had to be the most paranoid son of a bitch Emily ever met. Well. She corrected herself. Except John Winchester.

Dean handed Emily a fake badge and was about to get out of the car, but she stopped him.

“Wait,” she said. “I can’t use this badge!” Emily moved the badges around in the box to see if there was anything that even resembled her name. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Why?” he asked.

“It says ‘Agent Monica Jones’” Emily pointed at the pile of badges. “Mark has known me all my life.”

“I got this,” said Sam. “Don’t worry.” Emily followed Sam and Dean towards the police station.

“Good morning,” said Dean, already taking out his badge.

“Morning,” answered Mark. He was stern and cold just like Emily remembered him to be. “Can I help you?”

“Actually, yeah,” said Sam. “Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard. U.S. Marshals. This is Emily, our newest recruit.” He moved sideways and Emily took a step forward. Mark put down his rifle and stood up.

“Emily?!” he said, surprised. “I haven’t seen you since… What happened to you?”

“You know, I needed some time off after… after the incident.” Emily forced a smile out of her lips. Mark’s eyes softened as soon as she mentioned the fire. “Listen, we- we are looking for the Tanner’s.”

“What for? The kids in trouble?” Mark finally sat back down.

“No, no, it’s...” Emily looked at Sam. “It’s just routine.”

“They still live in the same house, up Aspen Way,” said Mark.

“I don’t think he bought it,” said Emily as soon as they were out of earshot from Mark. “He knows I’m way too young to be a recruit and he knows I'm a missing person,” she continued. “So long for keeping a low profile.” Sam was about to answer but he stopped in the middle of the road, reading an incision on a telephone pole. Emily approached it as well. CROATOAN

“That's bad news for sure,” said Emily. She exchanged a worried gaze with Sam. Dean frowned, confused.

“Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?” said Sam. None of that seemed to ring any bells in Dean’s mind.

“Dean, the first English colony? Wiped out mysteriously?” said Emily. Dean’s mouth formed an ‘o’ for a second before he answered.

“Ah… yeah, I do remember that. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.” Emily pointed at the word carved in the pole.

“I’m calling Bobby,” said Emily. “Maybe he knows more about this.” She took out her phone and dialed Bobby’s number, but the call didn’t go through. “I got no service,” she said. Dean and Sam looked at their phones and frowned. Sam turned it towards her. Also no service. “Right.” Emily approached a public phone, but the line seemed dead as well. “Looks like we are on our own.”

Emily walked Sam and Dean towards Duane’s house.

“So, you know these people well?” asked Sam. Emily sighed.

“Kinda. Duane was my best friend slash kindergarten boyfriend slash… I don’t know- we were close. That’s it.”

“Was there a horse with wings?” Sam huffed with a smile.

“No.” Emily smiled. “But now that I think about it… he is about to get shot.” Dean frowned.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

“Heathers,” said Sam. “It’s a musical.”

“God- you two really are nerds.” he sighed. Emily rolled her eyes. “Wanna do the honors of speaking with them?” Emily looked at Dean, then at Sam. He smiled.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” she said. “What if-”

“Think about it this way,” said Sam. “what would scare them more, an old friend coming to visit or three US marshals looking for their son?”

“Alright…” she said. She stepped out of the car and knocked on the door. Duane’s brother, Jake, opened the door.

“Hey Jake,“ said Emily. The guy seemed startled. “How are you doing?” Jake hesitated. Great. Thought Emily. He doesn't remember me. “It’s Emily, I used to hang out with your brother all the time?” He seemed to piece it all together and smiled.

“Oh- yeah, hey! What- what are you doing here?” He asked, looking both ways outside the house and noticing Sam and Dean standing next to the Impala a few yards back.

“I was in the area and thought I would come to visit,” Emily explained. “Is Duane around?”

“He… he’s not, he’s on a fishing trip with-” From inside the house, Emily heard the familiar voice of Mr Tanner, who soon came to the door asking who it was. The arrival of Duane's dad meant twenty minutes of conversation about what happened to her and where she'd been. Twenty minutes of lies Emily had accurately crafted over the years just in case she ever met a friend. After managing to politely refuse a very insistent dinner invite with the excuse of having work, Emily walked back to the Impala with a weird feeling.

“So?” asked Sam as soon as she approached the car, re-entering the car.

“I don't know...” Emily tapped her fingers on top of the car. “Something doesn't feel right. They said Duane is out fishing but… I’ve never heard him - or any of them really- talk about fishing before.”

“Let's go take a look,“ said Dean. He walked around the car and loaded his gun. Sam did the same. Emily followed her brothers to the back of the house. Dean took a peek through the curtains and then ducked under the window. “You were right,” he said, a worried look on his face. He gestured at her to take a look. Emily looked in the living room through the curtain to see Duane’s mother tied up to a chair, blood all over her face. She ducked back under the window and looked at Sam. “Me and Sam are gonna go in,” said Dean, taking a gun out of his jacket. “you wait here and shoot at anything that comes through.”

“Not if it’s us,” added Sam. Emily rolled her eyes with a smile and took place under the living room window. She loaded the gun Sam gave her. Dean kicked down the door. Emily heard fighting sounds, a gunshot, and then the sound of glass breaking. As shards showered her, someone came out of the window and started running. She tried to shoot him, but she couldn’t see and she missed. Twice.

Dean put Mr Tanner’s body in the Impala’s trunk and drove to the town's clinic. Duane’s mother was in the back of the Impala, sitting next to Emily. She didn’t say a single word the entire ride. Dean walked in the clinic with her. Emily stayed behind. Sam appeared next to her.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” she said. “I- We just killed Duane’s dad, okay? I- I knew these people. They were like-” Emily took a deep breath. “Dean was right. This was not a good idea.”

“You want me to drive you back to the motel?” He asked. Emily shook her head. “Are you sure, I-”

“No, Sam, it’s fine. I don’t-” She crossed her arms and looked at the floor. “It's fine.”

“I mean, if you’re sure, but-” Dean appeared through the door again. He tapped on it with his hand and frowned.

“What the hell are you two doing out here?” Emily walked in the clinic without moving her eyes from her feet and shoved Dean to the side.

“Emily?!” said a familiar voice. “Is that you?!” Emily looked up and saw Pam. A nurse, just like she’d always wanted to be. And just like in the vision.

“Hey-” Emily said, forcing out a smile. “Yeah, it’s- it’s me.” Pam had been one of the people that were nice to Emily even though she was so much younger than her. She was almost like a big sister. Surely more sibling-like than Dean.

“I can’t believe you’re here! We never heard from you and we thought-” Pam smiled and hugged her. “Are you okay? What happened?!”

“I- I was in foster care until I met my dad.”

“Oh-my-god! Your dad?! So you finally met him?” said Pam. Emily looked back at Sam. He smirked and walked past her. “How is he? Is he really like your mom described him?” Emily sighed.

“Yeah.” she lied. “He- He was in law enforcement, that’s- that’s how I got this job.” Emily looked at Sam and Dean discussing with the doctors across the clinic.

“Was? Is he-”

“Yeah, he passed away a few weeks ago. He…” Crap. She thought. I didn’t think of a cause of death. But it was then Sam looked at her through the glass, pointed to his heart and then went back to his conversation. “Heart issues,” said Emily.

“Oh my god-” Pam hugged her again. “I’m so sorry, Em! It must be-”

“Yeah, it’s…” she trailed off. “Sorry, my- my colleagues are calling me.” She pointed at Sam. Pam turned. “It’s nice seeing you again.” Emily smiled. That wasn’t a lie. Seeing someone she used to be friends with was actually nice. As long as she didn’t get hurt. Sam and Dean walked out the room and gestured at Emily to follow them. They entered a room.

“So?” said Emily. “Got anything?”

“We have no idea,” said Dean. “I am going to the closest town, I'll try my luck with the phones and call Bobby. Sam, you stay here.” Dean looked at Emily. “You, instead...” He trailed off for a long second. “...Nah. you are coming with me,” he said. Emily looked back at Sam for a second, then silently followed Dean out the building.

“Why are you so quiet?” Asked Dean, a few minutes later. “Is it because I yelled at you? Come on, I- I said sorry, okay?”

“I’m not quiet,” said Emily. “I Just- I don't have anything to say.”

“You?” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure you're okay?” Emily rolled her eyes.

“No, Dean- I am not okay! We just killed my ex boyfriend's dad! He- He drove me to dance rehearsals and he brought us to get pizza after comps! And you shot him!” she complained. “And- and apparently you're about to shoot my ex boyfriend too, so- No! I am not okay!”

“You're the one who wanted to come, okay? And I told you it was a bad idea! I even told Sam, but he said ‘no, Dean, she's an adult, she gets to choose’.” Dean scoffed. “You're not an adult. You're not even old enough to-”

“Jesus- Okay, I get it,” said Emily. “I’m an idiot kid who can't even shoot straight.”

“That's- That's not what I said. You're a good shot. Even dad said that.” Dean didn't move his eyes off the road. “You're Just- stressed. That's all.”

“Will I ever not be stressed in our line of work?” Emily asked. Dean shook his head, then saw a road block approach and rolled down the window. Emily adjusted herself in her seat. She recognized some of the locals guarding it and among them, there was Jake. When a man approached their car, something didn't feel right.

“Sorry, road's closed,” he said.

“I can see that, what's wrong?” asked Dean, hand already sliding to his gun.

“Quarantine.”

“For what?” Emily asked. Dean looked back at her and scowled, because her- as always- would rather she stayed quiet.

“I don't know. County sheriff called,” the man answered. Emily moved her hand towards the gun Dean had given her, too. “Say, why don't you come out here, we'll talk a little.” When Dean refused, the man tried to drag him out of the car. Suddenly, Dean switched to reverse and started driving away, the man at road block holding on to the open window. Emily used her left hand to move Dean out of the way, pinning him against the seat, aimed and quickly shot the stranger. Blood splattered everywhere, but Dean continued to drive, cleaning his eyes off the blood.

“See? Good shot,” he said. A couple of minutes later, someone jumped in front of the car, pointing a gun at them. Dean stopped the car and extended his arm to avoid Emily from hitting her head on the dashboard. “Son of a-” Emily moved her hair out of the way and looked ahead, where Mark was standing.

“Get out of the car!” he yelled. Emily hesitated, hand going back to the gun. “Out of the car!”

“Okay, okay-” said Emily, slowly standing out of the car.

“Easy there, big guy, okay?” said Dean. Before leaving the car, Dean looked at Emily and nodded at the gun she was hiding in her overalls. She waited for Mark to look at Dean, she took it and aimed it at Mark.

“Put it down,” she said, nodding at Mark’s gun. “Lower it, now!” As Mark pointed the gun towards Emily, Dean took his own gun and pointed it at Mark.

“Are you one of them?” asked the man, nodding in the direction of the road block.

“No,” said Emily. “Are you?”

“No.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” asked Dean, fingers sliding towards the trigger.

“How do you know you’re not?”

“Okay-” said Dean. “Let’s take it easy. Nobody is shooting anybody.” Mark lowered his gun. Dean and Emily looked at each other and did the same thing.

“Mark, do you know what's going on?” Emily sighed.

“I don’t,” answered the man.

“Whatever it’s happening, we have people acting weird and the only way out of town is blocked,” said Dean.

“What if I don’t believe you?” said Mark. Emily rolled her eyes, starting to get restless. The people from the roadblock might be trying to follow them.

“Look- you see this blood?” she said, pointing to her soaked overalls. “I just shot one of those things in the head,” she said. “Want to try and give it a go yourself?” Mark frowned and looked at her.

“Okay, kid.” he said. “But no sudden moves,”

When Emily entered the clinic, Sam walked towards her, alarmed.

“What happened?!” he asked. Emily waited for Mark to be out of earshot before answering.

“They blocked the road. I- I shot one of them,” she said. Sam seemed about to ask something, but she interjected. “Did you find out anything?”

“Doc thinks it's a virus,” he said, worried.

“Okay and what do you think?” asked Dean, who'd stepped inside after Emily and kept Mark in her sight. He cleaned his face with his shirt.

“I think she's right. I think they are trying to infect other people with blood to blood contact. ” Emily, Dean and Sam went silent. She looked at herself. The glass from the window had cut her. If it was blood to blood, she was done for. Just as Dean was about to speak, they heard Mark's voice.

“They’ve got one here! In here!” Dean looked at Sam and then ran towards Mark. Emily tried to follow him, but Sam stopped her.

“Come here,” he said, dragging her towards an empty room. “I don’t think you should be around for now.”

“Wait- what?!” she said, stopping in the middle of the doorstep.

“Listen, you might be infected,” he whispered. They stopped talking, hearing some arguing on the other side of the clinic. Emily swallowed “I think it's best if you-.”

“Sam, no!” she complained. “You’re not going to lock me up like some animal!”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” Sam answered. A gunshot was heard through the clinic and Emily flinched. She tried to take a deep breath, but it came out shaky.

“Sam,” she said. “Don't leave me here.” Sam looked behind him, his eyes lingering on the door Dean had entered.

“Everything will be fine, okay?” Just as Sam was to close the door and leave, someone knocked on the glass door to their left, screaming for help. Emily recognized the voice. It was Duane. Sam opened it while Emily was still at the same doorstep. He quickly gazed at her before thanking Sam. Two seconds later, he looked back at her, surprised.

“Wait- Emily?!” The girl didn't have the time to raise a hand to say hello to him, that he was already hugging her.

“Right- Good to see you too, Duane,” she said, patting him on the back. Leave it to the people in Rivergrove to hug her more in one day that she'd been hugged in years.

“What are you doing here?!” he asked. Emily hesitated for a second, looking at Sam.

“You know, I-” she tried to explain, but Duane's questions were faster than she could answer.

“And what is going on?”

“I-” Emily was interrupted by Dean and Mark stepping into the hallway with the doctor. Dean grabbed Duane from the arm and dragged him towards the room they came from.

“Doc, give him a good once-over, would you?” he said. Sam gave Emily a light push and closed the door in front of her. At that point, she was almost sure of it: she was infected. She was going to turn into a monster and she was going to die. Dean was probably going to be the one to do it. He probably had been waiting for the opportunity to get rid of her for years. Unless she didn't give him that satisfaction. Unless she killed herself first. Point was, she didn’t even have a gun, she’d forgotten it in the car in the rush to get back to the clinic. A sharp, intense pain went through her upper chest, as if someone was cutting her. She looked at herself in a dirty mirror that was lying in a corner, but there was nothing there. The pain vanished as it had appeared, and three gunshots echoed through the clinic.

That was it. The vision had come true. Dean had killed Duane. It was the same three gunshots she'd heard in the vision. She heard muttered voices arguing for several minutes, but couldn’t figure out what they were saying. Then, she heard the door open. She was leaning on the side of a bookshelf, which meant when whoever came through the door, couldn’t see her. She didn't care enough to make her presence known. She remained sitting on the floor, The door closed and Emily heard someone sniff.

“Wish we had a deck of cards, or… a foosball table or something,” said Dean's voice.

“Dean, don't do this,” said Sam. “Just get the hell out of here.”

“No way,” said Dean's voice. Emily frowned. She’d heard gunshots. Duane was supposed to be dead. So, what the fuck was going on? She didn't have time to formulate an answer because Sam appeared next to her. Emily stood up and sat down on a chair. Dean looked at her and frowned. “Are you- What are you doing here?” He asked.

“The window from earlier, it- it definitely cut me. And then there was the guy in the car.” Dean sighed and crossed his arms. “What’s going on?”

“Pam,” said Sam. “She was infected.” Sam pulled down the collar of his t-shirt and showed her a cut. Emily touched the point she'd felt the pain. “You felt that?”

“Yeah,” Emily sighed and crossed her arms again. “What about you?” She looked at Dean. He sighed and looked away. Sam's lips formed a line. “You- you look clean,” she said. Dean didn't answer. Sam crossed his arms. “Why- why are you here?”

“Dean, you should go,” said Sam.

“And?” Dean leaned on the wall behind him. Emily frowned.

“Dean, what- just go! You're not infected, just…” she said, pointing to the door. When Dean didn't move or react, Emily huffed. “You- You're a hypocrite!” she yelled. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Emily, please-” he said, trying to stop her, but she ignored him.

“All this time- you've been a fucking asshole about me and- you benched me because ‘I don't let suicidal people hunt’, right?!” she said, mocking his voice. “And now you do this?”

“What? Jealous?” he asked. Sam looked at Dean and raised his hands.

“Dean!” he called. “Can you not?!”

“She started it!” Dean complained.

“And you're almost thirty, you should end it!” Sam yelled.

“I haven't started anything!” Emily said, talking over Sam. Dean shook his head. “You’re just an asshole to me, all the time!”

“Me? No, no, no,” Dean said. “You're a bitch, that's all there is to it!”

“GUYS!” yelled Sam. Emily and Dean stopped talking. “Can you not do this? At least this once?!” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Get the fuck out of here,” said Emily, looking at Dean. He scoffed. “I said get out!”

“You can't force me,” Dean answered with a shrug. Emily walked to Dean and dragged him just enough so that he was in front of her, she opened the door and tried to kick him out. Dean fell to the ground.

“Emily, stop!” Sam called, trying to hold her back. But somehow, he couldn't. Maybe she was already turning.

“Get out!” she yelled at Dean, who was standing back up. “Get on your fucking piece of shit car and leave!” She pushed him towards the door again.

“Emily-” said Sam, trying again to stop her. She ignored him.

“Stop pushing me,” said Dean. “I’m being serious.” Emily looked at him for a second before pushing him again. “Alright-”

“Dean, don't-” Dean's fist clenched and landed on Emily's face before Sam could step in between them. Emily took a step back, but barely felt anything. She touched her face before trying to hit Dean back, but was stopped by Sam's hands holding her back.

“Stop!” he said. “What- What is wrong with both of you?!” he put his hands up to keep Dean and Emily away from each other.

“What?!” Emily complained. “Are you not even going to try and stop him?!”

“I was trying to!” said Sam. Emily rolled her eyes. She felt the cheek Dean had hit her on starting to swell up, the pain settling in. Sam let go of her and dragged Dean to the opposite corner of the room. Emily walked back to the mirror and looked at her face. Sam said something intelligible and Dean answered.

“Jesus Christ, Dean, you cut me!” she complained. “It's gonna take ages to heal!” Sam looked at her and the message was clear. No telepathy needed. She needed to settle down. Dean looked at Emily for a moment, Sam said something else to him. He rolled his eyes, then leaned on a table.

“Dean, just tell me what's going on,” said Sam, stepping back. Emily stayed behind him, still inspecting her face in the mirror.

“I’m tired,” said Dean. Emily scoffed.

Emily, please. said Sam's voice. Just this once. Emily rolled her eyes at the mirror.

“I’m tired of the job, of this life.” Dean sighed. “And no, this is not about dad.”

“Sure it's not,” Emily whispered. Sam turned towards her. She ignored him and he went back to Dean.

“Then what?” said Sam. Dean remained silent. He just gave Sam a look. Emily sighed. “It doesn't have to be this way, Dean.”

“Yeah well- I tried.” Dean looked away and tapped his fingers on the table behind him.

“Did you?” Sam crossed his arms. Dean sighed and looked at Emily.

“What?” she said. “What do you want from me?!”

“Nothing.” said Dean. Sam sighed. He dragged his hands through his hair.

“Dean, maybe we-” he tried to say, but Dean shook his head.

“No,” he said. “We promised.”

“Promised what?!” said Emily. “What? What is it that you're not telling me?!” The doorknob clicked and the door opened. The doctor entered the room.

“Dean, pull over,” Sam said. Emily looked up and frowned. They were in the middle of nowhere, and they'd just escaped death by what was probably sheer dumb luck. Either of them was infected. Or they were immune, however the hell that was possible.

“What?” answered Dean, keeping the straight course.

“I said pull over,” Sam repeated. Dean frowned. “We need to talk.” The car slowly came to a halt next to a river. Sam was the first one to rush out of the car. He was so nervous Emily could feel his emotions crawl in the back of her neck. Those were the first words anybody had spoken ever since the doctor told them the virus had disappeared from Sam’s blood. Dean left the car without even looking at Emily and a moment later, as Emily was closing her bag, Sam knocked on the window. “You coming or what?” he asked. Emily rolled her eyes, folded the front seat and stepped out. She leaned on the fence that was dividing them from the river. Dean did the same, but faced Sam instead of the river. Somehow, he was holding three beer bottles in his hands and handed one to Emily. Sam stood in the middle of them and refused the beer.

“So. Last night. You want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?” he asked Dean looked away.

“What do you mean?” he asked. Trying to play dumb was probably the worst strategy against Sam.

“What do I mean? I mean you said you were tired. And that it wasn't just because of dad.”

“Forget it,” said Dean. Emily felt her nerves tense up, as well as Sam's frustration.

“Forget it?!” she repeated, scratching her neck so hard she was almost slapping herself. “Forg- Dean, you can’t pull that crap and then say forget it!”

“Come on man, I thought we were going to die, you can't hold that over me.” Dean said, rolling his eyes. Emily scoffed.

Emily, can we not? said Sam’s voice. She rolled her eyes and rummaged in her pockets for cigarettes. Sam frowned, but didn’t say anything. He turned to Dean and gave him the look. And once again, Emily had no idea what it meant.

“What if I don't want to talk about it?” said Dean. Sam remained silent for a second and sighed. He put his hands on his waist.

“I’ll tell her,” said Sam. Dean’s entire body tensed up. Emily turned.

“Tell me what?” she asked. Dean rolled his eyes and pushed away from the fence. “Sam, tell me what?!”

“There’s a reason Dean treats you like crap,” said Sam. Dean looked at him. Another look. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Look-” said Dean. “I can’t tell you. And we can’t tell her either.” Emily frowned.

“Tell- Tell me what?! What’s going on?!” asked Emily, pushing off the fence. “Just-”

“Dean,” said Sam. “What the hell is going on man? Why can’t-”

“Because I promised dad I wasn’t going to.” Dean sighed and crossed his arms. Emily took a draw of cigarette and scoffed. “Something to say about dad?” said Dean.

“Oh, trust me. Lots of things.” Emily looked at Dean, then at Sam. “But it’s probably better if I shut the fuck up.” Sam shook his head.

“Look- I’m your brother. I’m just trying to lighten the load for you.” said Sam.

“You don’t need to do that,” Dean sighed. Emily rolled her eyes and silently leaned back on the fence. Nobody was going to tell her what the hell was going on. It was all about Dean. It was always all about Dean. That thought earned her a scowl from Sam, but she ignored it. Nobody said anything for what felt like hours- but was probably just minutes. The faint sound of water rushing behind them filled the silence until Dean spoke again.

“Okay, I- Before dad died, he- he said something,” said Dean. Emily threw away the butt of her cigarette. She looked at Sam. “He said I- I had to look out for you and Emily.” Emily frowned.

“That’s- That’s it?” said Sam. “He must have told you a million times.”

“Not about me,” said Emily, looking at the sparse grass under her shoes. Sam frowned.

“I’m sure he- he - he must have s…” Sam’s voice died down as Dean slowly shook his head. Sam crossed his arms and looked at the floor, too.

“He also said that I had to save you, or…” Dean sighed. Emily waited a couple of seconds for him to finish the phrase.

“Or what?” She asked. Sam looked up.

“Or I’d have to kill you.” Emily looked at Sam for a long second.

Did he just-

Yeah, he did.

What the hell?

“Guys,” said Dean. “No freaky mind games, okay?” Emily and Sam exchanged one more look and sighed.

“Dean, what-” Sam hesitated. “Save us from what?!”

“I don’t know. He just said I had to.”

“Do you think it- it has something to do with the demon?” Asked Emily. “And those plans he told you and Sam about?” Dean shrugged.

“Dean, why didn’t you tell us?” Sam frowned. “You-”

“Dad begged me not to.” said Dean. Emily scoffed.

“Jesus Christ, Dean- screw what dad said!” She said. “If I’m supposed to go dark side or something- I think I should know!” Dean rolled his eyes. “For all we know it could already be happening and- and- I don’t know, maybe that’s the reason I’m the way I am!” Dean crossed his arms and Sam pinched his nose. “Wait,” said Emily, a realization coming upon her. “Is… Is that-”

“No.” said Sam, way too quickly to be credible. “Definitely not.”

“Then what?!” Emily looked at Sam. He looked at Dean.

“We should tell her,” said Sam. For a second Emily thought she was going to lose her mind over whatever it was that they knew and she didn't. Dean sighed and walked back to the car. He took out John’s journal and opened it. He gave Emily a letter. It looked exactly like the letter Emily had found in her house after her mother died. That letter was the reason she went to John Winchester: it told how her mother was actually a “retired” hunter and that John would take care of her. That looked like the same kind of paper, just not addressed to Emily, but addressed to John. Emily opened it.

John.

I hope this letter never has to see the light of day. But if it does, I’m dead. The reason you are receiving this letter is that our time together was more to me than just a case. I got pregnant. I never told you because I knew I didn’t matter to you as much as you mattered to me. My Uur Your Emily is going to look for you. I’m sorry you have to find out this way. I know you have kids of your own, so I hope you can accept her into your life.

I raised her as normal as possible, as far away from this life as I could. But if you’re reading this, it means my past has caught up with me. I’ve been doing research (I guess the Life never leaves you for good) about the thing that you’re looking for.
It’s a demon. This is the big, scary stuff we’re talking about.
I met that demon a long time ago, before you and I ever met.
He told me he could help me get out of hunting. He could get me a normal life. I know you do this for revenge, but I was raised like this. I didn’t know any better, so I accepted. He promised me an out - eventually - said that it would come when it was time. He said he could make sure I had a normal, suburban, picket fence life. And in exchange? He was going to come by, just once, if I ever had a baby. He said he wasn’t going to hurt my kid, that I had to let him come, and nothing bad was going to happen.

He was true to his words. He came when Emily was six months old. I saw him through the nanny cam. I don’t think he knows I saw him, but he gave her a bottle of his own blood. He muttered something about building an army.

I got scared. I let him do it. I was scared for months he’d turned her into one of them, but Emily’s eight now. She’s the calmest, smartest kid in her class. We’re putting her in middle school soon. Four years ahead.

I hope think you’d be proud.

I hope this letter helps with your mission, John, so that you can finally rest and let your boys be just boys. Maybe she and Sammy could go to school together.

I hope you’re okay,

tara

Emily folded the letter back up. She didn’t dare to look at Dean as she felt a wave of nausea get to her just by thinking of drinking demon blood. She stumbled back to the fence and leaned over to vomit. Sam moved her hair out of the way.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily weakly nodded. She folded her arms on the fence and placed her head on them.

“You’ve known all this time?” she asked. Emily saw Sam nod out of the corner of her eye. “Jesus, what-” She gagged, trying to keep herself from vomiting again. “So- so I was right! There's a reason I'm always- always-”

“I- We- We don’t know, kid,” he said. “But, uhm- Dad thought that the demon came back for your brother and your mother tried to stop him.” Emily moved her hair out of her face again and cleaned her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “That’s- That’s how she died.”

“So what you’re saying is- I’m due to become some sort of demonic soldier?! Is that what dad wanted you to save me from?!” asked Emily. Dean and Sam exchanged a look. “Sam!”

“I- I- I don't-”

“And if that's the reason, does it mean the same thing happened to you? I mean, what the hell is going on?!” Sam raised his eyebrows. He looked at Dean.

“No.” said Dean. “No, don't- these things are unrelated, okay? We don't have proof that-” Emily pushed herself away from the fence.

“Unrelated! Our mothers died the same way! My brother was six months old, okay?! It-”

“I said it's unrelated!” Dean repeated.

“Alright, let's look into this!” Emily complained. “If you're so sure, why-”

“No,” said Dean. “We should lay low, maybe- I don't know, take a break? Go see the Grand Canyon, and- We can take that trip to Broadway, y-”

“Why- What- No!” yelled Emily. “We need to look into this, we-”

“Dad said-”

“Screw what John said!” Emily screamed. “He's dead, Dean! He doesn't have any power over us! Not anymore! I’m not going to follow a dead man's-” A moment later, Emily felt Dean's hands on her overall and she was pushed against a tree.

“Don't talk about dad like that,” he said. Emily looked at him. as Sam hurried to divide the two.

“Is that letter the reason you treat me like this?” said Emily, shoving Sam away as soon as she was free from Dean’s hold. “You think I’m one of them? You think I'm a monster?” Dean didn't answer. Sam dragged him away and Emily used the tree to hold herself standing, feeling her breath grow shorter by the second. It was panic attack, at probably the worst possible moment. If she had to fight with Dean she needed to think straight. She felt her cheeks go numb and her hands starting to tingle. The only sound she could hear was her heart beating in her ears. Sam was in front of her, he was saying something, but her mind was looping through the words she'd read. Demon blood. One of them. Monster. She was a monster.

“Emily!” Called Sam's voice. She looked up at him. “Listen to me. You're not- You're not a monster.” Emily looked around. Dean was gone. “Dean's in the car.” Emily frowned. Was Sam hearing everything she was thinking? “Pretty much, yeah. Happens a lot when you're upset.” Emily closed her eyes and took the deepest breath her body let her. Sam placed one hand on her shoulder.

“Sam, why-” she tried to say. “Why is this-”

“It's okay, kid, take a breath, okay?” Sam said. “Come on, I’ll sit with you in the back.” Sam tried to walk away, but Emily didn't follow him.

“Sam?” she called. Sam turned. “Does Dean think I’m a monster?” Sam walked back towards Emily. He sighed.

“I- I think he's scared you could be, yeah.” he admitted. Emily's eyes filled with tears.

“I’m not.” she said. “I- I’m not, right?”

“You’re not.”

That night, Emily was shaken awake by Sam. She tried to mumble something and hide under her pillow, but it was yanked away from her. Emily opened her eyes and saw Sam was holding both his and her backpack. He signaled her to not speak and nodded towards the door. Confused and still half asleep, she followed him outside the motel room.

“Sam, what are we doing? Why do you have my backpack?” she asked, putting on her jacket.

“Dean doesn't want to look into this whole thing, so we'll do it ourselves,” he said. Emily frowned.

“Really?” she asked. Sam nodded.

“Unless you’d rather stay here with Dean?” he asked.

“Fuck no- let's go.” Emily took two steps forward, then stopped. Sam stopped another couple steps later and turned. “We’re not taking the Impala, right? Dean’s going to fucking murder us.” Sam huffed.

“No, we-” he sighed. “We’re going to steal a car. Ever done that before?” Emily shook her head. “Well, it’s time you learn. Come on.”

Emily entered Harvelle’s and looked around. She’d heard Sam and Dean talk about it, but she’d never been there herself.

“What is this place?” she asked. Sam smiled and took off his jacket.

“Roadhouse ran by Ellen. She's a friend, she'll know how to help,” he said. Emily looked around and saw a few groups of people around the bar, all talking animatedly at their own tables.

“Is everyone here a hunter?” asked Emily. Sam shrugged.

“I guess,” he said. Ellen appeared behind the counter and Sam raised his hand to say hello. He sat on a stool. Emily did the same.

“Sam,” said Ellen. “And Emily, I’m guessing?” She crossed her arms. Before Emily could smile and say something, Sam was already talking again.

“You don’t seem surprised to see us,” he said.

“Your brother’s been calling,” said Ellen. Emily rolled her eyes. “He’s worried sick.”

“Oh is he now?” said Emily. Ellen chuckled. “A little late for that.”

“Yeah- He was right about your attitude,” said the woman. “What’s going on between you guys?” Emily looked at Sam, who sighed and hurried to change the topic.

“So uh- How's Jo?” he asked. Ellen sighed and threw the cloth she was using to clean on the counter.

“Well, I don't really know,” she said. She turned to pour Sam a beer. “I ain’t seen her in weeks. She sends postcards.” With a thump, Ellen placed the beer in front of Sam. Then she reached under the counter and clicked open a can of coke. She placed it in front of Emily, who raised her eyebrows and tried to complain.

“Wait- What happened?” said Sam, leaning further on the counter and grabbing the beer.

“Well.” Ellen sighed. “After she worked that job with you- she decided she wanted to keep on hunting.” Emily silently listened, trying not to look too disappointed in her beverage.

Sam. She thought. Sam scratched his neck and seemed to shiver, immediately sitting straighter on his stool. Who’s Jo?

Ellen’s daughter. She worked a job with us when- when dad died.

“I said ‘not under my roof’.” said Ellen, cleaning the counter. “And she said… fine.” Emily turned towards Sam. He sighed. Ellen cleared her voice. “So… Why did you come here?”

“So,^[d] while Ash is working, wanna play pool?” said Emily, seeing the pool table was finally free. Sam shrugged and nodded.

“I guess it can't hurt.” They approached the pool table. Emily rearranged the balls in their triangular shape and passed a cue to Sam. “You break.” As they started playing, Emily’s phone started ringing for probably the hundredth time that day, showing Dean’s name on the screen. She exhaled and shoved it back in her pocket.

“Is it Dean again?” asked Sam, moving away to let Emily play. She made her move and stood back.

“Yup.” Emily made her move in silence.

“Can I ask you something?” Sam asked, leaning on the table. Emily shrugged and nodded. “I know why Dean acts like an asshole, but… what about you?”

“Sam, can we not? I’m trying to have fun here,” she said, not looking at him.

“I’m just saying- I can hear your thoughts. You're not an asshole.” said Sam. “So, why?”

“He's the one that started it,” said Emily. Sam looked at her from the pool table. He took his shot and stood back up.

“That’s not what he told me,” he said. Emily didn't take her turn and she looked at Sam. “He said- He said he tried, at first, but you always pushed him away.”

“So, Dean, this is your sister,” said John. “Her name's Emily.” Dean looked up from what looked like scrambled homework.

“Hey!” said Dean with a smile. “Did you come all the way from Portland?” Emily nodded while staring at her shoes. “You must be starving. I- I have some leftover pizza from yesterday, do you want some?” Emily walked past him.

“I- I don't know. I don't remember.” said Emily. Sam crossed his arms. “I- I was still… You know-”

“Alright- first day in your new school- are you excited?” Dean asked, handing her her backpack from the back seat.

“Yeah- whatever,” whispered Emily. “Am I supposed to steal my lunch or what?” Dean looked at her and frowned.

“Did dad not give you-”

“No.”

“Alright, I- wait-” Dean contorted in his seat to try and take out his wallet. He opened it and glanced at it. He sighed and took out a five dollar bill. “I- Sorry, that's all I have. I’ll hustle some pool tonight and get you some more for tomorrow, okay?” Emily rolled her eyes and walked out of the car without saying a word.

“Emily, I know you remember.” said Sam. “I- I just want to know why.”

“How was school?” asked Dean with a smile.

“Sucked.” Emily slammed the car door and threw her backpack in between her legs. She took out her notebook. “I have to do homework.”

“Are you like- good at this stuff?” said Dean, turning on the car engine. “Sam's a straight up genius. Are you that good?” Emily ignored him and started solving her AP calculus exercises. “That looks like some complicated stuff.” said Dean at the first red light. “I was never good at math.”

“Figured,” whispered Emily. “Look- John will want me to train all night- Do you mind shutting the fuck up?” Dean frowned and turned his attention back to the road.

“No, Sam- listen to me. Dean was always a piece of shit.”

“Hey.” said Dean, pointing the flashlight on the ground and standing next to Emily. “You should come back inside for the night. You've been out here shooting targets for hours.”

“Not now. I have to practice if I want to stop sucking at shooting.” she said. Dean put his hands in his pockets and looked at Emily. She hit the first target, the second target and the third target. She missed the fourth target. Dean walked in the dark and picked the last target up. He moved it a foot closer.

“What are you doing?!” asked Emily. “John said-”

“Not to move the targets? It's a trick. You're supposed to know that gun doesn't shoot that far.” said Dean. Emily sighed. “You're a good shot. Stop beating yourself up.” Emily silently waited for Dean to move out of the way, and then shot all the four targets. “See?”

“I didn't need your help.” said Emily. “I could have figured it out.”

“Or you were going to stay here all night- miss first period, and be a bitch all day because school sucked.” he said. Emily rolled her eyes.

“I don't know what you think you're doing- I don't know if you think this is helpful or- whatever- it's not. Leave me alone.”

“Emily, you…” Sam trailed off. “He wasn't a dick. I think you were just scared.” he said. Emily sighed and played her turn. “That's- that's normal. But you need to sort this out with him.

“No.” said Emily. “I- Look, you weren’t there, okay? He was a dick. He… He never defended me with dad. John screamed at me and… and…”

“That’s the last time you make that mistake, I’m telling you!” yelled John. He slammed the beer bottle back on the table. Emily flinched. “I’m tired of you! You never learn!”

“Dad, I-”

“Don’t call me dad! Not until you keep fucking up like that!” said John. Emily closed her eyes and did her best not to cry. “And don’t you make a fucking sound! You’re a hunter! And hunters don’t cry!” Emily held her breath in and looked over to Dean. He averted his gaze and pretended not to see John slap her as soon as she released a sob.

“...he was a dick.” said Emily. “And Dean never did anything to stop him.”

“Emily-”

“I said he did nothing!” Sam played his turn and won. He threw the cue on the table. Emily placed her cue down and crossed her arms.

“Emily, that’s not- that’s not what he said to me,” said Sam. Emily felt tears starting to push to fall out of the corner of her eyes. “He… He said he tried to help, but you fought him off.”

Dean rolled his eyes and stood up from his bed.

“Dad.” he said. “Dad, calm down.” Emily touched her cheek. She felt the heat from the slap spread across her face. “She’s just a kid.” Emily’s eyes shot up to Dean. She stood up and stormed out of the motel room. When Dean caught up with her, she was already halfway through the parking lot.

“Let me go!” said Emily as soon as she felt Dean’s hand on her shoulder. She turned and shoved him away. “I’m not a kid!”

“Emily, you’re-”

“I can take care of myself.”

“He’s full of shit.” said Emily. “Look, I- I know you- You mean well. But he’s just not interested in being a brother to me.” Before Sam could say anything, Ash emerged from the room he had disappeared in, holding a stack of paper.

“That was fast.” said Sam, glancing over at Emily. Ash rolled his eyes.

“Well, apparently, that's my job. Make the monkey dance at the keyboard.” Ellen approached them from behind the counter.

“Just tell us what you got, Ash,” she complained.

“Twelve folks fit the profile: nationwide, born in 83, 90 or 02, mother died in a nursery fire- the whole shebang.”

“Just twelve?” asked Emily. Ash opened up a piece of paper he was holding.

“Sam Winchester,” he said. “That is you. Then, Max Miller, Andrew Gallagher, Scott Carey- dead, these were all born in 83. For the 90’s babies we have Jessica Taylor- dead, Michael Smith- dead, Laura Bennett- dead, Brian Johnson- also dead, Emily Reed- missing, according to police reports,” Emily looked at Sam and huffed. “What?” said Ash.

“That’s… That’s me. I’m Emily Reed,” she said. Ash took a pen and changed something on the piece of paper.

“Alright so- not missing, and also not dead. And lastly, from 02 we have three kids, all dead: Rachel Adams, David Clark, Alex Reed.”

“So…” said Emily with a sigh. “To recap, we have three- five if we count me and Sam- survivors. Out of all of these?”

“Yup,” said Ash. “Last guy to die, before you ask- Scott Carey, he was stabbed a month ago. Parking lot- fuzz don’t have much.” Sam looked at Emily. She tried to steal his beer but Ellen swiftly slid it out of her hand.

“Try again in like… seven years,” she said. Emily rolled her eyes. “Okay so- I told Dean you were here so I reckon you have about three hours to leave before he shows up.” Sam stood up.

“Alright- Thanks Ellen,” he said. Emily managed to grab one sip of the beer before leaving. Ellen chuckled.

After gathering Scott’s family address, they headed to his father’s house. Emily and Sam lied and said they went to high school with him, and the man seemed happy to let them in and chat.

“Scotty was a good boy,” he said. “He changed a lot since you knew him.”

“What do you mean?” asked Sam, sitting down on the couch next to the man.

“It started about a year ago with these headaches. And then he got depressed, paranoid, nightmares.” Sam glanced back at Emily.

“Nightmares?” he repeated. The man nodded. “Uh, did he ever talk to you about his nightmares? What he saw, or…”

“No, no. He closed up with me. I tried to get him help, but nothing took. He'd just lock himself in his room for days.” Sam sighed. Emily crossed her arms.

“Mister Carey,” she said. “I’m sorry if this is an indelicate question.” The man looked at her. “But you think maybe we could see his room?”

“So, prescription pills and a bunch of yellow eyes obsessively glued to the back of a closet,” sighed Emily, slamming the car door and starting to walk in the motel parking lot. “That’s not upsetting at all.”

“We’ll talk with the doctor tomorrow. Maybe he’ll know something,” Sam said. As they kept walking, Emily started noticing someone was following them.

Sam, behind us.

Yeah, I heard it too. Count of three? Emily nodded. One, two- Emily and Sam turned and grabbed whoever was standing behind them. They shoved her against the motel door. The woman squirmed in terror.

“Please!” she cried.

“Who are you?!” Sam asked. The woman started shaking.

“You're in danger,” she whispered. Sam and Emily looked at each other for a moment before slowly letting the girl go.

“Why were you following us?” asked Emily.

“I- I came to warn you! You- you might blow up soon!” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“Blow up?!” she repeated. Sam looked behind him and sighed.

“Okay, maybe it's better if we talk somewhere more private.” They entered the motel room. The woman paced back and forth in the room, nervous.

“Why don't you take a seat, uh- I don't think I got your name, sorry,” Emily said with half a smile.

“Ava.”

“Alright, Ava, why don't you sit down, I'll bring you a glass of water, okay?” Ava nodded, arms wrapped around her.

I'll try to keep her calm, you ask the questions, okay? She looked at Sam. He nodded and sat down on the bed in front of Ava.

“Okay, look, I know how all this sounds, but I am not insane and I am not on drugs. Okay? I am normal, and this- this is way, way off the map for me.” she said. Emily handed her a glass of water, which spilled a little in Ava's shaky hands.

“All right, all right, just, just calm down. Okay?” said Sam, moving closer to the edge of the bed.

“I'm trying, but-”

“Look,” Emily sighed. “So, my name's Emily…” she said, standing next to Sam. “And he's Sam.” The woman nodded. “Why do you think we're in danger?”

“Yeah, uh, okay, about a year ago I started having these, like, headaches, and just, nightmares, I guess. And I really didn't think much of it until I had this one dream where I saw this guy get stabbed in a parking lot.” said Ava. Emily started reciting all the names from Ash’s list in her head. She'd read it dozens of times on their way to the motel. Nowhere in the list there was an Ava. That thought earned a scowl from Sam.

“When was this?” he asked. Emily pulled out the paper Ash had given them and looked through the names. Just to be sure. But she just wasn’t there. She was either lying on her name, or-

Emily, later.

“Uh, about a month ago,” said Ava. “But, anyway, a couple of days later, I found this.” Ava pulled out a newspaper clipping from her jacket. It was the piece on Scott's death. Sam took it and Emily stood behind him.

That’s our guy. She thought. Sam turned towards him and nodded.

“I saw this guy die,” Ava’s voice broke. “Days before it happened.” She started pacing around the room again. “I don't know why, I- I don't know, it's just for some reason, my dreams are coming true. And last night I had another one.” Emily crossed her arms.

“Let me guess, we die,” she said.

“Yeah.” Ava looked towards the ceiling and dried her face. Emily handed her the tissue box.

“How did you find us?” asked Emily.

“I saw you- you had motel stationary so I googled it all and- and- and here I am.” Ava crossed her arms and started to nervously tap her foot on the floor.

Sam, something’s wrong.

Why?

She’s not on the list.

And? You think she’s lying?

Maybe she’s not, but- she’s not on the list! Sam turned to her, raised eyebrows. Look, I’m not saying don’t listen to her-

Maybe we just got the criteria wrong, or- or Ash did a bad job, you know?

What if-

“What is this?” asked Ava, confused. Emily realized she was moving her hands as if she was audibly talking with Sam. “Some sort of twin secret language?” Ava backed up towards the door and put her jacket back on. “I'm sorry, I never should have come, I'll just-”

“No, no- It's okay, we believe you.” said Sam as Emily crossed her arms, nervous. Ava stopped and turned towards Sam. “Of course you- you must be one of us.” He pointed at him and Emily. Ava frowned.

“Sorry, one of- one of who?”

“One of the psychics. Like us. Look, Ava, we have visions too, all right? So, so- so we're connected.” Ava laughed for a second, then stopped, realizing he was serious.

“Okay, so, you're nuts,” she said. “That's great.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Emily whispered, sitting on the bed. Sam scowled at her again.

“Ava, did your mother happen to die in a house fire?” He asked. Ava sighed.

“No, my mother lives in Palm Beach!”

Aaaand the plot thickens… Well done, Sam.

Give me a break, okay? I’m trying to figure out what’s going on. He gestured at him and she rolled her eyes. Ava scoffed.

Yeah, doing a great job, champ. You think you can get her to not call the cops on us?

You told me to ask the questions, what-

I did, but-

No, you know what, Dea-

“Hello?” said Ava. “You are being weird again- listen, why don’t you just leave town? Please? Before you blow up?”

“Not happening,” said Emily. She stood back up and started making coffee in the motel’s kitchenette.

“Oh, god, why not?” asked Ava. Sam sighed.

“Ava, there’s something going on here. There’s other people like us and- well, we’re all part of something.” Ava slapped her hands on her thighs.

“Okay, you know what?” she said. “Screw you and your weird secret twin language!” She looked between Emily and Sam. “Because I'm a secretary from Peoria and I'm not part of anything! Okay? Do you see this?” Ava showed her hand, where she was wearing an engagement ring. “I am getting married in eight weeks. I am supposed to be at home addressing invitations, which I am way behind on, by the way!” Emily leaned on the counter behind her and crossed her arms, glancing at Sam who was trying not to look rude and attempting a polite smile. “But instead, I drove out here to save your weirdo ass. But if you just want to stay here and die, fine. Me? I'm due back on Planet Earth.” Sam turned to look at Ava walking towards the door.

“Don't you want to know why this is happening?” he asked. “I mean, don't these visions scare the hell out of you? Because if you walk out that door right now you might never know the truth, Ava.”

The girl looked at him for a second, then turned to Emily, who remained silent. Ava sighed and left. Sam stood up to stop her.

“Sam, let her go,” Emily sighed. “Maybe she's better off.”

Ava had left two hours before and yet, little to nothing had moved in the motel room. Emily had finished making coffee, handed a cup to Sam and they both resumed their research in silence.

“Do you want something to eat?” asked Emily. Sam shook his head. Emily put her hands on her waist.

“Come on, dude- we’ve been together for three days, you haven’t eaten anything,” she said.

“I’m not hungry.” Sam kept looking at his laptop. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Yeah,” she whispered, walking towards her bag. “and the scars on my arms are from hunting.”

“I heard that.” Sam briefly looked at her. “And I said I’m fine.”

“Alright,” said Emily. “Sam- We need to talk about this.” Sam closed his laptop and stood up.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, heading for the bathroom.

“Okay.” Emily opened the minifridge that was in the room and took out her dinner leftovers. “Then eat.” She threw the take out box in front of Sam and waited. Sam pushed the food away.

“I said I’m not hungry,” said Sam. Emily felt panic in the back of her head and her neck hitching. That wasn’t her panic. It was Sam’s. She took a deep breath.

“Okay,” she said. “But if you ever decide you do want to talk about it, I’m here, okay?” Sam weakly nodded and went back to his laptop. Somehow, a single thought slipped out of Sam’s mind and reached Emily’s.

She can’t know.

Freeze your brain

From Heathers - The Musical

“This is a bad idea,” said Emily as she and Sam approached Dr. Waxler’s office. He was the doctor who had prescribed Scott the pills they had found in his room. The plan was for Emily to take a fake therapy session as Sam climbed in from the window and stole Scott’s files. “What if he…like- what if he wants to talk about my feelings?” she asked, torturing a strand of hair. Sam huffed.

“It doesn’t have to be real therapy, Emily. You can lie,” he said.

“What if he sees right through me?” Emily adjusted in her chair and sighed.

“Listen dude-” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Not your dude,” she complained.

“Emily, listen. It’s just an hour of talking about your feelings. You’ve done worse.” said Sam. The door behind him opened.

“You must be…” The doctor looked at his notes. “Emily Reed?” Emily looked at Sam, silently begging him to let her leave, to call her whole plan off, but he pushed her towards the doctor's office. “Please, come in.” Emily turned to look at Sam before the doctors closed the door, but her brother was already gone.

Shit. That was all Emily’s mind could elaborate as she sat in the chair in front of Dr. Waxler. His eyes hesitated on her arms, but he didn't say anything. Emily adjusted in her seat and remained silent. She didn't know what to say. What do you even talk about with therapists? She thought. The doctor looked at her and seemed to study her, making her feel like under a microscope.

“Hello, Emily. I’m Dr. Waxler,” he said after a long silence.

“Hello,” she said, nervous. She crossed her arms in front of her for a moment to try and hide her scars, but then she thought body language and she loosened up her arms. She adjusted herself on the couch again and remained silent.

“So, Emily… Let’s start with you,” said the doctor. “I think you mentioned being new in town, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m just passing through.” said Emily. It wasn’t a total lie. She was just passing through.

“Okay, why did you decide to seek out therapy right now?” The doctor clicked his pen on the armrest and prepared to write.

“It’s… A lot of reasons,” Emily said. The doctor wrote something down and waited for her to list the reasons. She glared behind him, hoping Sam would appear behind the window. But he didn’t.

“Why don’t you start with the first that comes to mind?” asked the doctor. Emily sighed. She needed to buy more time. She needed to get out the big guns. She needed to talk about her scars.

“Recently,” she said. “I’ve been resorting to self-harm to- uhm- to cope with my problems.” The doctor wrote something down. “I used to be in pre-med so- so I know what this is and I know it isn’t good.”

“I’m guessing you’re talking about your arms,” said the doctor. Emily crossed her arms and nodded. “So- How does it help you, exactly?” Sam silently entered the room from the window and crouched behind the doctor’s desk.

“It- It takes the… the not physical pain away.” She paused. “It’s like rebound sex, but with a lot more blood.” Emily chuckled at her own joke, immediately realizing the doctor was not amused.

“Do you often joke about that sort of thing?” Emily shook her head and adjusted herself in her seat.

“I don’t- No, I’m sorry, that was a very inappropriate joke, I shouldn’t have said that.” Emily sighed in relief as Sam climbed back out the window. The doctor didn’t lift his eyes off his notes, his pen running faster than Emily’s thoughts.

“It’s okay, Emily, you don’t need to apologize. I was just wondering because… that’s a very heavy topic we’re talking about and you seem very at ease with it.”

“My- my family knows about it,” she said. “We don’t- we don’t really talk about it, but they know, so… I don’t really hide it.”

“Why not talk about it with them if they know?” the doctor asked.

“They… they wouldn’t understand.”

When she finally came out of the doctor’s office twenty minutes later, Sam was waiting for her in the car they had stolen. He didn’t speak as she entered.

“Did you get it?” she asked. He showed her the folder and started driving, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just-” Sam trailed off. Emily crossed her arms, nervous.

“What is it, Sam?” To that question, Sam sighed and traced his face with his hand.

“I’m worried about you,” he said. “Okay? I- I- You know there’s other ways, right?” Emily scoffed.

“Like what? Should I try the Dean way? Get drunk and bang chicks?” She crossed her legs on the seat. “Or should I try the Sam way?” Sam nearly lost control of the car.

“What’s the Sam way?” he asked, panic seeping through his mind and into Emily’s, together with a quick she knows. She rolled her eyes. She scratched her neck.

“Damn right I fucking know,” she said, “It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“Shit…” Sam closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Okay, listen. I tend to lose my appetite, okay?” Seeing Sam trying so hard to justify himself was as funny as it was ridiculous. Emily crossed her arms. “It’s nothing serious, I’m just trying to listen to my body.” Emily raised her eyebrows. “You know, hunger cues and such.”

“Sure. Whatever,” said Emily. With a sigh, she reached in the backseat to get the doctor’s recorder.

“Emily, I’m serious,” said Sam. “Don’t go around telling Dean I have some eating disorder because a, that’s not true and b, i would never hear the end of it, okay?” Emily opened the notes.

“Never mentioned eating disorders, but okay, hunger cues.” Emily took out a notebook from her backpack and started listening to the audio recordings of Scott’s therapy.

“It started a little over a year ago. Migraines, at first. Then I found I could do…stuff. I have this ability. When I touch something, I can electrocute it if I want,” recited Emily a while later, in the motel, reading from her notes, as Sam tapped his pen on the table. “And also…He, the yellow eyed demon, has plans for me. He says there's a war coming. That people like me, we're going to be the soldiers. Everything's about to change.” Sam frowned.

“I know. That’s bad.” said Emily. As Sam opened his mouth to answer, a loud bang, followed by the sound of glass breaking, made both the siblings jump out of their chairs and fall on the floor. Emily felt a sharp pain in her left cheek and something else exploded. She crawled to the wall beneath the window, trying to remain hidden from what seemed to be a very determined sniper. Another shot was heard through the room and the table exploded in pieces.

They waited, minute after minute, before Sam had the courage to turn back and look around outside the window. As the police sirens started to be heard in the distance, they quickly gathered their things and fled the scene.

“I think the shot came from there,” said Sam, pointing to a very specific roof.

“Right. But why? That’s honestly more pressing to me,” asked Emily, still nervous, shaking away the glass from her clothes. She leaned on a nearby car, her legs shaking so much they were barely keeping her standing.

“I don’t know, I-” Sam turned to look at her. “Are you okay?”

“No!” she said. “I almost got my brains shot out!” She pointed to her cheek, where a long burn mark caused by the bullet flying very close to her face, laid next to several glass cuts. Sam rushed back towards her.

“Let me see that.” said Sam, moving her face to the side to see the mark better. He touched it.

“Ouch!” she complained, moving his hand away from her face. “Sam, I’ll be alright.”

“Your voice is saying something but your whole body is saying the opposite,” said Sam. Emily rolled her eyes.

“What? I’m scared, sue me!” she said. Sam took out his phone. “Who are you calling?”

“Dean. We need backup on this.” As the phone started ringing, Sam offered his hug to Emily. Fighting against her body shaking, Emily didn't lean into it. Sam sighed, moved his arm away and moved the phone form being stuck between his face and his shoulder to his hand. His eyes lit as he heard the sound of Dean answering the call. “Dean!” said Sam. “Yeah, look… I’m in Indiana, Lafayette… You do?... Yeah, I'm sorry. Look, right now there's someone after me and Emily… I don't know, that's what we need to find out. Where are you? Y-Yeah. Sure.” Sam’s expression became more and more worried as he closed the call.

“Sam?” she called, taking a step back. Sam looked at her and remained silent for a moment. “What?”

“Dean said funkytown.” Sam looked around and then started walking towards the car.

“Shit,” said Emily. John had insisted she learned over twenty different safe words with different meanings, but that was the first time one was ever used. “Did he say where?”

“5637 Monroe Street,” Sam said.

“Alright, let’s get ready.” Emily followed Sam.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should-” He turned for a moment and then started rummaging in his pocket to find the car keys.

“...go back to the motel and wait?” she asked. “Sure, so they can come and kill me, how smart of you.”

As they approached the old, abandoned building, it started to become more real: it was a trap. Whoever wanted them dead was in there. Maybe Ava’s vision was coming true. Emily thought it and she knew Sam was thinking the same, his thought spiral getting louder and louder in her head as they approached the place.

“We’ll be okay, right?” she asked before entering the building.

“Of course,” Sam answered, nervous. He opened the door and looked in.

Alright, you remember what Ava said? There is a locked door. We try to open it, we’re dead. Emily looked at Sam and nodded. She pointed to another door.

That must be it. Sam gestured at her to try and go around it. All Emily found was a hole in one of the cardboard walls. She looked through it and saw a cable going from the locked door to some sort of explosive device in the middle of the room. That's when she remembered something Sam had told her.

Sam, when you were going against Azazel, you told me he asked you to-

Move the gun with my mind? Yeah, but I couldn’t.

Well, what if I can?

Emily-

Maybe he wasn’t lying, maybe we just have to try. Sam looked at her and sighed. Just… You know- Going on intuition.

Be careful. Sam reluctantly walked to the door and picked it. Then he walked backwards, until he reached Emily in the opposite corner of the room.

Are you sure about this? Emily looked at him. She wasn't. But she has to try. She focused all her thoughts on the door handle. She imagined it moving downwards and slowly pulling it towards her. The same headache that always hit her when she had visions started to appear. She closed her eyes, and visualized the door opening. Suddenly the door exploded. She looked at Sam, shocked. His eyes widened, but he moved towards the door. Before she walked through it, Sam stopped her and handed her a gun. When they entered the room, the person holding Dean hostage was turned to the other side, pointing a rifle at him. It wasn’t long until Sam and Emily had both their guns pointed at the man's head.

“Drop the gun,” said Sam. The man slowly turned towards them.

“Aren’t you a clever little duo,” he said.

“Put it down!” Repeated Emily. The headache threatened to make her lose focus. Just a little more, Emily. She said to herself.

“You wouldn’t shoot at me, would you? Because your brother, he thinks you two are some kind of saints. Especially you, little one.” The man pointed at Emily and smirked.

“Yeah? Well, I wouldn't be so sure. I’m the crazy one,” she said. Don’t let him see it. Just a little more.

“See, that's what I said.” With a quick movement, he hit both the siblings. Emily fell to the ground and when she was able to sit back up, saw Sam being overpowered by the man. She struggled to stand back up, her legs weakened by the persistent headache. But when she saw the man taking out a knife and pointing it to Sam, her body moved automatically. She grabbed the rifle, which had fallen on the floor in the scuffle, and used the back of it to violently hit the man on the head, knocking him out. She helped Sam back up.

“All in one piece?” she asked. Sam nodded and cleaned his jeans off the gravel it had gathered off the ground. Emily walked towards Dean. She used the man's knife to cut through the ropes which were keeping him blocked. He looked at her. Emily couldn’t understand what she was seeing on his face: it was a brand new expression. It was almost as if he really thought she was dead and he was relieved to see her. “All good? You gonna have a breakdown?” She asked with a hint of mockery. Dean stood up, regaining his serious face as he took off his gag.

“You know, for a second I thought you were dead.” he said, standing up.

“It’s gonna take a little more than that to get rid of me,” she said. She felt the adrenaline slowly washing off and her legs starting to weaken again. Sam reappeared behind her.

“Gordon is taken care of,” he said. Emily frowned. She'd heard the name somewhere. “He’s one of us. Bobby’s friend.” he explained.

“Right,” Emily used the chair to hold herself up, her legs starting to feel dead. “Can we go?” she asked. Sam looked at her and nodded. The second Emily stepped outside the building, she heard two shots and instinctively ducked behind a wall.

“Didn’t you take care of him?!” Emily whispered to Sam, who had ducked next to her.

“Give it a second,” answered Sam with a smirk. A second later, the sound of police sirens sounded through the building. Emily frowned. “Anonymous tip.” He explained.

“You're a fine upstanding citizen, Sam,” laughed Dean. The second Emily felt the safety of the car, the last drop of adrenaline that was keeping her together wore off. She kicked away her shoes and crossed her arms, desperately trying to keep a steady breath and fighting back tears. All she could think about was that door opening with just the power of her mind. Sam looked at her through the rearview mirror.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily sniffed and nodded.

“What the hell, guys?” said Dean. “What were you thinking, taking off like that?!”

“Not now,” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes. “This was my idea, okay? We can talk later.”

“You can't keep covering for her,” said Dean, looking at her through the rearview mirror.

“I’m not,” Sam complained. Dean looked at Emily again and shook his head.

“What's going on with you now?” he asked, nervous. Emily ignored him.

“Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“It's just a question!” said Dean and Emily adjusted herself in her seat.

“You want to know what's wrong?!” she said. Sam glared back at her. He didn’t want to tell Dean about how they opened the door, but Emily was way too busy with her own thoughts to care for Sam's. “It’s not just visions and telepathy, that's what's wrong!” Dean glared at her, frowning.

“What?” he asked.

“I set the bomb off without touching it.” Dean nearly lost control of the vehicle for a moment, but Sam grabbed the steering wheel. He gave Dean a look. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Okay,” said Dean. “You know what? Okay.” Emily looked at Sam and frowned. “Yeah- Listen, I heard Gordon. He thinks you're going to become killers, monsters or whatever he says. But- Look at you.” Dean gestures in her direction. “No offense, kid, but you're the farthest thing from a killer I could ever imagine.”

As promised, Emily did not bring up Sam’s problems with food, but had been secretly keeping an eye out for him. That far, she had seen him eat twice. In the span of a month. Just because they were all sitting together and Dean had been bitching about Sam “never being hungry” for two hours. After finding out Ava was dead, Sam had, instead, enjoyed his fair share of alcohol, which led to him trying to get Emily and Dean to get along.

“If you just sat down and talked about it,” he said one night, so drunk he could barely stand. “...you’d find out you actually like each other! Do it, do it now. I’ll close my eyes so I don’t hear you.” Dean seemed to have a good chuckle at the situation, but Emily rolled her eyes and walked right out of the room. Then, one day, she was awakened by Dean’s nervous voice calling her name.

“Emily, wake up!” he said and as soon as he saw she was awake, he walked away. She sat up and saw him frantically filling his bag. “Get ready, we have to go.”

“What’s happening?” Emily turned to where Sam used to be: the other half the bed. But it was empty. “Where’s Sam?” she asked. Dean sighed and threw a flannel on top of his bag.

“Good question. Where is he?”

“I don’t-” Emily rubbed her eyes, still half asleep. “Why are you asking me?”

“He surely hasn’t told me,” said Dean, going back to packing. “You’re the only one he talks to,” Emily slipped out of bed.

“Jealousy is such a bad look on you,” Dean rolled his eyes and threw her empty backpack at her.

“Okay- I don’t have time for this,” he said. “Do you know where he is or not?”

“Of course not!” Emily complained, grabbing a dirty t-shirt from the shower, where she'd hung it to dry.

“Yeah, right,” Dean rolled his eyes again and closed his bag. “Is he- did he go looking for other psychics?!”

“Dean, I don’t know!” Emily pushed her clothes in her backpack with one hand while dialing Sam’s number on her phone with her other hand. “Come on, Sam-” she whispered as the call went to voicemail. Emily finished packing and Dean pushed her out the door and towards the car. Just as she was about to open the Impala door, a sharp pain hit her- it kind of felt like a brain freeze- and saw Sam.

“What now?!” asked Dean, starting the car. Emily scowled at him, unable to speak. “Emily-” But Dean’s voice faded. Sam was sitting on a bed, in a motel, somewhere. He was staring numbly at the wall, covered in blood. As she heard Dean’s voice in the distance, Emily saw more details. Motel, a blue building, Twin Lakes, Wisconsin. Room 109. When she finally opened her eyes, chest bent on her knees, Dean was still complaining about something. “...time for it.”

“I know where he is,” said Emily.

“I knew it!” Dean said with a frustrated groan. “Why didn’t-”

“No, Dean! I saw him,” she said. “I had a vision,” Dean remained silent. Emily rolled her eyes and sat down in the car. “Twin Lakes, Wisconsin. It’s a blue motel,” she whispered.

“Finally,” said Dean. Nobody spoke for the rest of the drive. And while usually Dean would ask Emily to change tapes here and then, he didn’t. They listened to the same Metallica album on repeat for three straight hours. Emily stared in front of her, arms crossed, until Dean parked in front of a blue motel. “Is this the one?” He asked. Emily didn’t bother nodding and left the car. She entered the building and started scanning the halls for Sam’s room. She stopped and Dean passed her, mumbling something under his breath and not realizing they were at the right door until after Emily opened the door and entered. Sam was sitting on the bed, in the same exact spot she had seen him in her vision. Emily stood in the doorway.

“Sam?” she called and Sam turned, he didn’t seem surprised. He seemed tired, emptied out.

“Oh, hey,” Sam’s flat tone set off alarms in Emily: something was off. Very much so.

“Sam, what’s going on?” She walked into the room, Dean closely following, and sat next to Sam, trying to understand if he was hurt by moving his blood soaked shirt. “Are you bleeding?”

“No, no- I don’t think that’s mine.” Emily looked at Dean, who seemed annoyed more than anything.

“Sam, what’s going on?” he asked. Sam didn’t answer. Something was not right. Sam felt off. Sam Radio had rarely sat quieter since the powers had started manifesting, it was usually random thoughts, random songs, images. But as Sam sat on the bed and stared in front of him, Emily felt nothing coming from him. She realized it had been a while since the silence had started. Days, probably.

“I don’t know,” he said. Dean looked at him and his annoyance turned into worry. “I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

Dean left to ask questions to the motel staff and Emily and Sam remained alone in the room.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. Sam nodded weakly. Emily walked to the corner of the room and grabbed some clean clothes off of Sam’s bag. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure out what’s going on. Here-” Sam nodded weakly and disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later, Dean entered the room again.

“How’s he doing?” he asked. Emily shrugged.

“I don’t know. He hasn’t said a word,” she said.

“What about your telepathy thing?” Dean leaned on the wall next to the door. Emily was about to answer when the sound of the shower stopped. A few moments later, Sam walked out of the bathroom with clean clothes.

“Did you find out anything?” he asked Dean, drying his hair with a towel. He sat next to Emily.

“You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora,” said Dean. “Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan.” Sam sighed.

“Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?” Sam asked, nervously rubbing his hair with the towel. Dean sighed.

“I don't know. But you're okay, and that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with.”

“Yeah but Dean- What if I hurt someone? Or worse? What if dad was right?”

“Sam, this- this isn’t that.” said Emily, less convinced than she would have liked to be. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

“She’s right.” said Dean. “I didn’t think I would have ever said it, but- She’s right.” Emily crossed her arms. “Let’s not jump the gun, what’s the last thing you remember?” Sam crossed his arms and sighed.

“Just me and Emily, just, in that motel room in West Texas, going out to grab some burgers, and...”

“West Texas?” Emily looked at Dean. “It’s been- what, a whole week?”

“That’s the last thing. Next thing I knew I was sitting here. Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month.”

“Okay,” said Dean, suddenly moving towards the window. “Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so...” He pulled back the curtains, revealing a bloody handprint on the window. Emily released a sigh and looked at Sam. Still, all she could get from his mind was static, almost like their powers went away all of a sudden. Dean put his hands on his waist. “Alright, let’s get out of here, see if we can figure out what happened.” Emily waited for Dean and Sam to be out the door and closed the door behind her, following Sam outside the motel.

“How did you guys know where I was anyway?” He asked as they walked back the same corridor Emily and Dean had just walked through not more than an hour before.

“I had a vision,” explained Emily. Sam seemed to frown, but didn't say anything. As they arrived out the door, he looked around.

“Recognize anything?” Dean asked. Sam scanned the area with his eyes and hesitated on the garages. He frowned again and touched his pocket. He took out a key and handed it to Dean, eyes widening in surprise.

“Try to open that one.” He pointed to one of the garages. Inside was a car. It was old and ruined, the exact kind of car Dean had taught her to target if she ever needed to steal one. I mean I guess car theft is not that bad, right? She thought, looking at Sam. He didn't turn. He didn't scratch his neck. Emily looked at Dean, but he was busy checking the inside of the car.

“Dude,” he said, picking something up from the bottom of the car. Emily walked closer: he was holding a knife. The backseat was drenched in blood. “What the hell?”

“You think I used this on someone?” Asked Sam. Emily crossed her arms and looked for Dean's gaze again. He ignored her.

“We're not thinking anything,” he said. Emily walked to the other side of the car and crouched next to the open door. She found a pack of cigarettes.

“Really Sam? Since when?!” she asked. Sam looked at her and shrugged. Emily put the cigarettes in her pocket. In the meantime, Dean had found a receipt and he was reading it over.

“Here,” he said. “Gas receipt. Few towns over.”

Emily walked in the store right after Dean, Sam closely following her.

“You getting any, uh, any goosebumps yet? 'God, this looks familiar', deja vu vibes?” said Dean. Sam shook his head. The moment the clerk noticed them, he started yelling.

“You. Outta here now, I'm calling the cops.” He pointed towards Emily and Sam. Emily pointed at herself, confused.

“You talking to me?” Her mind started to wander around, trying to guess on which occasion she had entered the store and why the clerk would be so angry at her.

“No!” yelled the man. “The tall guy! Jerk comes in yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging.” The clerk picked up the phone.

“This guy?” asked Emily, pointing at Sam.

“Not after he whipped the friggin' bottle at my head.”

“This guy?” repeated Dean.

“What, am I speaking Urdu?” The clerk started dialing something on the phone.

“Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything-” said Sam.

“Tell your story walkin', pal.” The man interrupted him. “Po-po will be here in five.” Dean approached him.

“Wait, wait, put the phone down,” he said. “Sam, go wait in the car.” Sam tried to complain and Dean gave Emily a look which she couldn’t decipher, but had to guess it meant get him to the car. Emily pushed Sam out the door.

“Let's go, come on,” she said. Sam reluctantly walked back to the car and leaned on the hood. Emily lit up a cigarette and sighed. She looked at Sam. “What the hell is going on, Sam?!” she asked. He looked at her and his eyes filled with tears. He looked up. “Dude, are you-” Emily sighed. “Disappearing? Smoking? Stealing cars and knifing people? Why?”

“I told you- I don’t remember doing that! I- It’s like I was asleep, I-” Sam dried his face from the tears and pushed off the car.

“And I had to take shit from Dean for it!” said Emily. “All because, what? Why are you doing this?” Sam paced in front of Emily, nervously looking at Dean inside the store.

“I haven’t done anything!” said Sam. “I- You don’t believe me?!” He stopped walking and looked at Emily. She didn’t answer. “Really?! You don’t believe me?” Emily shook her head. “I don’t even get the benefit of the doubt?”

“Oh, come off it! You did the bare minimum of not being a fucking asshole.” Emily crossed her arms. “Just tell me what the hell is going on!” Sam opened his mouth to say something, closed it and resumed walking. He sighed and dried his face again. Dean walked out the store and sat in the driver’s seat. Emily took place in the back.

“What’s wrong with you two?” said Dean, glaring between Sam and Emily. “You having your first fight as a couple?” he smirked. Emily huffed.

“Shut the fuck up, man. Jesus…” she complained, throwing the cigarette outside the window.

“Just asking.” Dean rolled his eyes and started the car. “Dude said you went north. Anything you remember?” Sam shook his head. “Anything you want to say to me?”

“Dude, why don’t either of you believe me? I don’t know what’s going on!” Dean sighed and looked at Emily through the rearview mirror. She ignored him.

“That’s not… I haven’t said that.” said Dean. “It’s just… Smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean, that sounds more like Emily- or me- than you,” he said.

“Right.” Sam crossed his arms and looked out the window. He squinted and straightened up. “Dean, wait.” Dean looked at him. “Turn down that road.”

“What-”

“I don't know how I know, I just do!” said Sam. “Turn that way.” Dean drove into someone’s property. Emily looked around the yard and saw a broken window.

“Okay, Sam- Gig is up. This is not funny anymore. What the hell is going on?”

“Emily, I’m telling you- I don’t fucking know,” Sam said. Emily rolled her eyes and walked towards the house. While Dean and Sam tried knocking on the door, Emily looked around.

“Broken window over here,” she sighed. “And cameras over there.” She pointed to the cameras that surrounded the house. “Whatever you did here, Sam- I’m surprised you’re not on any police scanner right now.” Sam walked behind her and around the corner. He pointed at something. Emily already had a leg inside the window, but she looked behind the corner. On the wall was a fuse box that had been tampered with to disable the alarm. “I was just about to say- I’m surprised there was no alarm,” she said. Emily walked back to the window, where Dean stopped her from entering and went in first. Emily rolled her eyes.

She followed a trail of broken glass and plates to the bedroom and walked next to Dean. When she saw the body, she crouched next to it with Dean, but when he turned it, she almost let out a scream. Dean covered her mouth with her hand and gestured at her to shut up.

“Sorry,” she whispered as Dean set her mouth free. “It’s just…” She pointed at the guy’s cut throat.

“Yeah, I can see that.” said Dean. Emily looked back at Sam. Please tell me you didn’t do it. she thought. But Sam never answered. He sighed and crossed his arms. But somehow, it was like Dean knew exactly what she was thinking. He stood up.

“We don’t know what happened yet, so don’t give me those looks.” He pointed at Sam and Emily.

“What else do you need?” Sam asked. “I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood-”

“What about you tell us?” said Emily, standing up and trying to ignore the horrible blood stench. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence all of this happens and suddenly the telepathy is gone. So- what the hell are you hiding?” Dean looked at her and frowned.

“Okay, slow down, what- what are you talking about?” said Dean. “What- The telepathy is gone?”

“Yeah, I- I realized today, it’s… it’s been a while. So he’s hiding something, I know he is. That’s why I don’t buy all of this!” she explained.

“Emily, what the hell?” said Dean. “You- You don’t believe Sam?” He looked at her with disgust. Like it was a capital sin not to believe Sam, the golden boy, as if he hadn’t done that to her just hours prior. “Dude, you’re… you’re something else,” he said.

“He’s been weird, and-” Dean rolled his eyes and gestured at her to stop talking.

“I’ll deal with you later- Sam, listen to me, okay? Even if you did do this I'm sure you had a reason, you know… self-defense- uh… he was- he was a bad son of a bitch, something!” Emily rolled her eyes and looked at Sam one last time before she walked to the other side of the room. She opened a cabinet to reveal a few guns and what looked like a lot of lore and folklore research.

“Dude was a hunter,” she said. Dean and Sam turned, alarmed. Sam released a shaky breath. “I’ll go check nobody is coming to fucking kill us.” Emily rolled her eyes and walked out the room and to the front door. She looked through the glass and checked in the distance. Sam and Dean’s voices came muffled from the other side of the room.

“Call her,” said Dean. A beat of silence followed. “What? No, I’m fucking done, you’re her bff or whatever, just-”

“Dean, she thinks I did this and I’m hiding it for some reason!” said Sam. Emily kept looking outside. Sam and Dean really had to learn how to hide their conversations from her.

“Is she wrong?” Nobody spoke for a couple seconds, then Sam appeared in the doorway behind her. Emily looked at him.

“We found surveillance tapes,” he whispered. Emily walked past him without looking at him. She stood next to Dean as he started the tapes. On the tiny screen. Sam entered the room running and attacked the man. After a fight, Sam grabbed him and cut his throat. Emily looked at Sam and it was like she saw him for the first time. She’d ignored Sam’s nature all that time, because he usually acted calm, rational. Sam was the one that would listen, Sam was the one who would fight with Dean to keep her safe. Seeing him kill someone like that reminded her: Sam was a soldier just as much as Dean. And if he wanted to kill, he could. So Emily stood there, staring at an indefinite point in front of her as one of the last things she knew she could count on crumbled before her eyes. Dean was the first person to break the silence that followed.

“How do I erase this?” said Dean, pointing to the computer. Sam didn’t answer. Dean looked at Emily and she looked at Sam.

“I killed him,” he said. “I broke him and killed him.” Dean looked at Emily. She remained silent.

“Alright listen,” said Dean. “Whoever this guy is, he's a hunter. Which means that other hunters are going to come looking for his killer, which means we've got to cover our tracks, okay?” Sam nodded, but didn’t move.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “Dean, give me your gun,” she said. He hesitated. “You want to cover our tracks?” He nodded. “Cool, give me your fucking gun.” Dean handed her his weapon and she kicked the computer. All screens turned off and she kicked it again, the side of it flying off. Emily pointed her gun at the hard-drive and shot it twice. “Here,” she said. “Deleted.” Dean shrugged and took back his gun.

“That works,” he said. “Alright, wipe your prints, then we go.” Dean tossed Sam a tissue.

When they arrived back at the motel, Dean gestured at Sam to go ahead and grabbed Emily’s arm. He closed the door, keeping her out of the room and stuck with him.

“What?” she asked, shoving her arm back.

“You think he did it?” he asked. Emily rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “No attitude, this is fucking serious.”

“Dean, I- I don’t know, okay?” she said. “How- How am I supposed to know?”

“That’s right, you don’t know. So stop acting like you do. For all we know, the powers had an expiration date. You ran out of demon blood or whatever. So stop acting like he’s some sort of murderer.” Emily scoffed. Ironic, how he’d been treating her like a criminal ever since they met, but she had to stop, because Sam was the fucking golden boy. The golden-est of them all. “And drop the fucking attitude.” said Dean. “It’s fucking irritating.”

“Yeah, right-” she said. “Whatever.” Emily entered the room and flopped on the first chair she walked into. She grabbed her bag and threw it on the bed next to Sam without looking at him. Dean sighed and closed the door behind him.

“Alright,” he said. “We get a couple hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror.” Sam looked at him, silent. Emily gathered a t-shirt she had left on the floor. “Look, I know this is bad, okay? You gotta snap out of it.” As Dean said that, Emily stuffed her shirt in her bag, trying not to answer, trying to be quiet. Just like he wanted it. Trying to do what she was told, for once. “Sam, say something!” Sam scoffed.

“Just get some sleep and leave in the morning?” He said. “Murder, Dean. That's what I did.” Emily put her hands on top of her bag and sighed.

“Maybe,” said Dean. Sam rolled his eyes. “Hey, we don't know- Shapeshifter!”

“A shapeshifter?” said Emily. “Really? We saw the tapes, there was no eye flare!”

“That wasn’t Sam,” said Dean, a warning look on his eyes.

“Okay, then explain it. If it wasn’t Sam, tell me what’s going on. Because chances are- it’s going to happen to me soon,” she said. Dean’s eyes hardened. She was pushing his buttons, she knew it and she didn’t care. “Come on, give me a fucking explanation. One that makes sense.”

“Emily, I told you to-”

“Drop the attitude? Who the fuck do you think you are? You’re not dad, Dean.” Dean looked at Sam and they exchanged a mysterious look.

“She’s right.” said Sam. Dean frowned. “I- I think I did it.” Emily crossed her arms. “There’s something I…” Sam trailed off for a moment. “Something’s happening to me. I- I’ve been feeling…” He looked at Emily. “You know, anger, hate- Like I want to smash everything around me. Including myself.” Emily frowned, panic settling in. That was a pretty cut and dry description of how she felt. Dean put his hands on his waist and looked at Emily. “Dean, Yellow Eyes- you know he has plans for us. He turned other kids into killers, too.” Emily sat down on the bed. Dean looked at her and walked towards Sam.

“You’re telling me- you think this really is about what dad said? You- you think Emily is…” He turned towards her.

“It could be,” he said. “Maybe she’s just turning faster than I am.” Dean crossed his arms. “Maybe we’re just becoming-”

“What?!” asked Dean.

“What we’re meant to be,” said Sam. Dean scoffed. “You said this yourself, Dean! I have to face up to who I am!” Emily took a deep breath and reached for her cigarettes.

“This is not what I meant!” said Dean. “And Emily? Look at her!” He turned and saw she was about smoke, so he knocked the cigarette out of her hands. “Does she look like a killer to you?” Emily looked at Dean. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

“Thanks?” she whispered, trying not to cry.

“Shut up-”

“Dean, you have to face this! Dad knew this was going to happen, that’s why he told you-”

“You shut up too!” yelled Dean. “Both of you, shut the fuck up!” Emily failed to stop herself from crying and released a sob. Dean rolled his eyes.

“You promised him, Dean.” said Sam. Dean looked back at Emily and sighed.

“No,” he said. “We’re gonna figure this out. So… You stop fucking crying-” he said to Emily. She rolled her eyes and dried her face. “And we're gonna find a way.” Sam reached in Dean’s bag and took out a gun.

“Right,” he said. He handed Dean the gun. “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” The only sound for a while was Emily fidgeting with the lighter.

“God, you two really are the Miracle-fucking-Girls,” said Dean in a whisper he turned and grabbed Emily’s lighter. “I can’t believe I have to listen to this- Sam! You can fight this!”

“No.” said Sam. “I can’t.” Emily tried to fight for her lighter back, but Dean instead dragged her standing.

“I swear to god, Emily-” he whispered. Sam put the gun in Dean’s hand.

“You do it,” he said. Emily sobbed again and tried to go back to sitting on the bed. Dean kept her firmly next to him.

“I’d rather die.” said Dean. He placed the gun on the bed, still forcing Emily next to him. Sam took the gun.

“No, you’ll live,” he said, looking at the gun. Emily tried to force herself free, but despite not budging an inch, Dean didn’t turn to look at her. He was staring at Sam. Suddenly Sam raised his hand and hit Dean’s head, making him fall and drag Emily down with her. With a shot, Emily passed out.

When she opened her eyes, Dean was right above her saying something she could not put together. He was pushing something in her shoulder. The first sound she could make was a scream of pain, she sat up, but Dean forced her back on the floor.

“Stand still-” he said. “This is about to hurt a lot fucking more.” Emily fought against Dean’s strength as he dug his fingers inside her shoulder. She screamed again, pain taking over her body. “Almost done.” said Dean, pulling something out of her shoulder and reaching for a bottle of liquor. Emily didn’t have the time to try and stop him that he was already pouring it on her open wound. Trying not to scream a third time, Emily dug her nails in Dean’s arm and groaned.

“Please tell me you’re done,” she whispered, seeing Dean was walking away. He looked at her and lifted one corner of his lips.

“First time getting shot, kid?” he said, crouching next to her holding some bandages. Emily rolled her eyes. “Worst part is done,” Dean said. “I just have to close you back up.”

“Cool, another scar that won’t ever go away,” Emily whispered. Dean ignored her and sewed her skin together. Emily put a hand behind her to hold herself up and felt the floor soaked in something warm. She turned to see a pool of blood. “Did I lose all that blood?” she asked. Dean nodded. “What happened?”

“Sam punched me cold and shot you. I don’t know where he went,” he said. “Here, all done.” He put down the needle and covered her wound. “Take it easy, okay? Don’t want you passing out again.”

“Where do we start looking for him?” she asked. Dean stood up and helped her to the bathroom. She took off what was left of her shirt and cleaned off the blood.

“I’ll call the phone company and have them turn on the GPS,” he said. Emily held onto the sink, lightheaded and desperately trying not to fall. “You good?”

“Of course,” she said. “Give me a minute.” Emily used the wall to keep herself up and wore a clean t-shirt. She almost fell to the floor, getting Dean’s attention.

“I’ll get you some food as soon as we’re on the road. Hang in there, okay?” he said. Emily rolled her eyes and picked up her bag.

Dean threw her a brown bag that smelled like burnt frying oil. Emily opened it and sighed. When she looked at him, he handed her a water.

“Looked it up. Apparently it’s good for blood loss,” he said. Emily took the bottle.

“I could have told you that,” she whispered, trying to open the bottle with her hands. Dean offered to help her, but she used her teeth. Emily ate the burger and drank the water as Dean drove in silence. “Where exactly are we going?” she asked.

“Duluth, Minnesota,” said Dean. “That’s Sam’s last location.” Emily crossed her arms and hissed in pain.

“Minnesota?” Emily frowned. “Why? You know someone there?” He shook his head. “Then what-”

“I don’t fucking know,” he said. “All I know is he’s not himself, okay? And maybe it’s the demon blood thing but that doesn’t…” Dean trailed off and shook his head. “Look- I know you’re scared, okay? But I can’t have you panic and cry for this one.” Emily looked outside the window. “You got it? I need your A-game.”

“Of course,” she said. “It’s not like I was just shot, right?”

“Welcome to the job.” Dean shook his head. He remained silent for a while.

Dean parked the car on the side of a road coasting the lake.

“Here we are,” he said. “You got holy water on you?” Emily nodded.

“You think he’s possessed?”

“That’s my best bet,” he said. “Look, I give you a signal, you use the holy water on him. Don’t let him run. You got it?” Emily nodded. Dean walked towards the bar and kicked down the door. Emily followed him. When Sam saw them, he grabbed a knife from a nearby pillar and turned around, revealing he was holding a girl hostage. He pressed the knife to her throat.

“I begged you to stop me, Dean!” yelled Sam. Emily walked next to Dean.

“Sam, just put the knife down,” she said. Dean looked at her for a moment.

“I told you I can't fight it!” said Sam. “My head feels like it's on fire, all right?!” Emily swallowed and took another step towards him.

“Sam, we can still fix this. You’re going to be okay,” she said. Sam pressed the knife harder on the girl’s neck.

“What do you know about my feelings?!” he yelled. Emily turned to look at Dean. That was possession alright. Sam would have known about telepathy. “Who are you to tell me what's going on in here?!” He gestured at his head with his gun. Then, he turned towards Dean. “Kill me, Dean, or I’m gonna kill her.” He pointed the gun towards the girl. “Please, you’d be doing me a favor!”

“We’re not gonna kill you, Sam.” said Emily. She touched her back pocket, making sure she still had the holy water. Sam took a step back, trying to keep the distance.

“Of course you won’t! You don’t have the guts,” he said. “But Dean does!” Emily slowly slid the holy water out of her pocket. “What the hell's wrong with you, Dean? I thought you trained her, didn’t you?” said Sam. Emily glared at Dean again and he nodded. That had to be the signal, right?

“That’s where you’re wrong,” said Emily. “Dean didn’t train me. Dad did.” With a quick hit, she knocked the knife out of Sam’s hand and sprayed Sam with holy water. With a scream, Sam’s eyes went black and he ran, jumping out of a window. Dean hesitated for a second to look at Emily.

“That was not the signal!” he yelled. He loaded his gun and ran after Sam. Emily took off the girl’s gag.

“Are you okay?” she asked, undoing the rest of the restraints who were keeping her trapped. The girl nodded.

“I think I'll be okay. Was he possessed?” Emily nodded.

“Yeah,” she said. “Name’s Emily, by the way.”

“I’m Jo.” said the girl. “Hey, I heard about you, you're Dean's sister, right?” Emily huffed.

“More like Sam's, but- Nevermind, you're Ellen's daughter, right? I heard about you, too,”

“I can only imagine,” Jo answered, rolling her eyes and massaging her wrists. Emily looked at her, trying to figure out if she was hurt. “I’m fine, I promise,” said Jo with a smile. “Let’s go look for Dean.” They walked out the bar and started calling Dean on his phone, but it kept going to voicemail. Emily jogged through the piers, trying to spot him or Sam in the dark of the night, but to no avail.

“Dean!” she called. “DEAN!” She was only met with silence. Jo tried to call Dean one more time. The sound of distorted rock music reached Emily and she rushed towards it. Dean was lying in the dark, brought back to the pier by the lake. Emily turned him face up and he groaned, in pain, slowly regaining conscience. “What the fuck happened to you?!” she asked.

“Where's Sam?” he asked. Emily tried to help him up.

“I don't know, he hasn’t come back for us,” she answered, seeing blood on his shoulder. When Dean tried to put a hand down to stand up, he fell back down.

“He shot me,” he said.

“Yeah, I can see that,” she said. “Come on, let us help you.”

“No, no-” Dean stood up and kissed. “It's fine.”

“Fine my ass,” said Jo. “Let's get you back inside.”

Dean sat down and Emily started working to get the bullet out of him. Jo helped her by passing tools and by scolding Dean when he complained too much.

“So, how old are you, Emily?” asked Jo.

“I'm sixteen,” Emily said. “But don't worry, I am not a baby, I can handle myself.”

“I could tell,” Jo said. “How's the life treating you?” Emily looked at her and scoffed. “Not good, uh?”

“It's rough,” Emily sighed. Dean groaned in pain as she pressed some disinfectant on his skin.“Stop being a baby!” she complained. Dean moved in order to scowl at her. “And sit still.” Jo passed Emily a long pair of forceps after dunking them inside some whiskey. “Thanks,” she smiled. Dean rolled his eyes.

“You know, Jo, I would appreciate it if you didn't hit on my sister,” he said, looking up. Jo chuckled. “Seriously, isn't she a little young for you?”

“Oh, so suddenly age is a big deal?” Jo said. Emily looked at Dean. “That's not what you said last time.”

“Alright,” Emily grinned. “What is going on here?”

“Mind your business,” Dean said. “And hurry it up, we gotta find Sam.”

“I would go faster if you kept fucking still,” Emily sighed. Emily held her breath and slowly pulled out the bullet. Dean moved, and she lost grip on the bullet.

“I did this on you this morning and you screamed like I was fucking stabbing you in the spine.” Dean complained.

“I thought you were supposed to be the tough one,” Emily said, holding him still against the chair as she tried pulling the bullet out again. Dean huffed. Jo passed Dean a glass full of liquor.

“Drink,” she said. Emily pressed Dean against the chair and tried getting the bullet out again. When it was finally out, she dropped it into a glass of alcohol and Dean released a deep breath.

“Fuck, that hurt,” Dean said. Emily started covering the wound.

“If you keep complaining, next time I’ll do it with my fingers,” said Emily. “Like you did this morning.” Dean shook his head.

“Can I ask you guys something?” asked Jo. Emily nodded, smiling.

“Sure.”

“I know demons lie, but ... do they ever tell the truth too?” Emily looked at Dean.

“I guess,” he said. “Especially if they know it’ll mess with you. Why do you ask?” Emily stole Dean’s glass and took a swig of whiskey. She offered some to Jo. She refused.

“Nothing. Doesn't matter,” said Jo. “So do you have any idea where Sam's headed next?” Emily put a piece of gauze over Dean’s shoulder and taped it. She sighed and stood up.

“Well, so far he's been going after the nearest hunter, so...” said Dean. He looked at Emily.

“Bobby?” she asked. He nodded. “Give me the keys,” she said.

“No way you’re driving,” said Dean, standing up. Emily scoffed.

“Dude, you can’t drive with one arm,” she said.

“And you don’t have your license,” said Dean, wearing his jacket. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Then get me a fake one!” said Emily. “It doesn’t matter, our whole life is made of fake documents!” Dean walked towards the door.

“I said no, okay? I’ve done this bef-” he noticed something behind Emily and gestured at her not to speak. “Jo, what do you think you’re doing?” Emily turned. Jo was wearing her jacket.

“Coming with you?” she said. Dean’s eyes widened.

“No you’re not,” he said. Jo scoffed.

“Of course I am, I’m part of this now,” she said. Dean walked past Emily.

“I can’t say it any more plain than this: you try to follow me and I’ll tie you back to that post.” Jo rolled her eyes. “This is my fight. I’m not getting your blood on your hands.”

“But-”

“God, you two would make the best of friends,” sighed Dean. He looked at Emily and shook his head. “That’s not a discussion, Jo, you’re staying here. I’ll call you, okay?” He walked out the door. Emily wore her jacket.

“Never seen him so protective about something who's not Sam before,” Emily commented, putting all her supplies back in her bag. “I bet he's so into you.”

“He's an idiot,” Jo sighed. “But hey, give me a call once everything's over, okay? I bet you don't get to hang out with girls often.”

“I- I don't actually,” Emily said, feeling her cheeks flush with red. “Yeah, I- I'll call you.”

“Emily!” Dean appeared in the doorway just when Emily was saving Jo’s number. “We don’t have all night.”

“See you around, Jo,” said Emily, following Dean outside the bar. Jo waved her goodbye.

“What was that?!” said Dean as soon as they were in the car.

“What?” Emily put on her seatbelt, frowning.

“Thanks Jo, see you later, Jo.” Dean said, mocking her voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be this kind to anybody.” The engine started and Dean merged into the road.

”...and?”

“What, you like Jo or something?” He asked. Emily scoffed.

“Dude, I don't get crushes,” she said. “I'm not that kind of girl.”

“What does th-” Dean shook his head and turned on the engine. “Nevermind, just- I don't think it's a good idea.”

“You're just jealous,” Emily complained. “Jesus, Dean, she’s barely old enough to drink.”

“Okay, shut up now,” said Dean, turning the volume up and letting music cover any attempt at arguing.

“Bobby’s line is dead,” said Emily half an hour later, torturing a strand of hair between her fingers. Dean’s hand tightened against the steering wheel as the car made straining sounds.

“We’re almost there. You keep trying,” he said, pointing at Emily’s phone.

“He’s going to be fine, right? I mean, it’s Bobby,” asked Emily, dialing the number again. “I'm sure he's got like- a thousand secret demon traps we don't know about. The call declined immediately. “Nothing.” Dean nodded ever so slightly as the car went even faster.

“By the way- that was not the signal!” Dean said. “I told you to wait for the signal!”

“What- How am I supposed to know what the signal is?! You nodded, I went for it!” Emily complained. “You can't just assume I-”

“Hey, you've been doing this for four years, you should k-”

“No, I shouldn't! You never gave me any signal that wasn't ‘stay behind me and don't do anything!’” she answered. Dean shook his head. “You never let me do anything, how am I supp-”

“Okay, okay, I get it, stop doing that!” Dean yelled. Emily frowned. “Stop yelling and stop using your girl voice with me, I get it, you're pissed!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Emily asked.

“See? This- this is your normal voice!” he said. “And then you yell and you sound- I don't know, you sound hysterical!”

“I beg your pardon?!” Emily said, raising her eyebrows. “Dude, I am a girl! I have a girl voice! What am I supposed to do?!”

“Maybe don't yell so much, okay? Maybe just do as you're told and shut up!” Dean yelled. Emily looked at him and tried calling Bobby again to avoid pinching him in the face.

Emily walked in Bobby’s house behind Dean, holding one of Sam’s guns Dean had finally agreed on giving her, just in case. Bobby appeared from behind a corner, holding a rifle. After a moment of tension, he sprayed them with holy water. Emily sighed, lowering her gun and drying her face.

“Sorry sweetheart,” said Bobby. “It’s been quite a night.”

Sam was passed out on a chair, tied up. Emily’s eyes lingered on him a second too much for Bobby not to notice.

“Kid, you good?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he handed her a beer. Emily frowned.

“I know- You’re still too young, but I think it’d help,” He smiled and patted her shoulder before going back to Dean. “So, you said he’s been possessed for weeks?” He asked. Emily forced herself to turn and look at Dean and Bobby.

“That’s what he said. I don’t know,” Dean sighed. “Should we exorcise him?” Bobby took a book off a shelf and dropped it on the table. Emily crossed her arms and drank a sip of beer.

“You think it hurts?” she asked. Dean turned towards her.

“What do you think?” he said. Emily rolled her eyes and sat on a pile of books. Bobby glared at Dean and he huffed.

“Sweetheart, do me a favor and go grab those holy water tanks out back.” said Bobby. Emily silently walked outside the room. She rolled her eyes as she heard Bobby whisper something inaudible to Dean. As she made her way around the house, she heard their voices become clearer again. There's no way this is happening again. She thought. People really need to stop talking about me behind my back.

“Look, I do what I have to, okay?” said Dean. “I don't- She's a kid. I don't know how to talk to her without making her snap at me.”

“Have you tried not being an asshole all the time?” asked Bobby. Emily picked up the jug of holy water with both her hands and started to walk back.

“She needs to be a hunter, Bobby, she's not-”

“Christ- she's not what? What John wanted you all to be? Thank God she isn't!” Bobby and Dean's voice faded in the distance again. When she entered the house, nobody was speaking. She placed the holy water in front of Bobby.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said with a smile. Emily looked at Sam. He hadn't moved. He was still passed out in the middle of the room. On the ceiling, a trap to make sure the demon couldn't run.

“Want to do the honors?” asked Dean. Emily looked at him.

“I’m good,” she said, taking a step back and leaning on a pile of books. Dean looked at Bobby, but didn't say anything. He placed the holy water next to her feet and walked back to Sam.

This kid is driving me up a fucking walk. Dean sighed and glared at Bobby. Of course he didn’t agree with how he acted. Don’t be an asshole he said, but Dean wasn’t too sure he knew what he meant. He wasn’t being an asshole. He was trying to protect her. Emily had to get tougher if she wanted to survive. And Dean knew from experience, you don’t get tough by being coddled. Dean was about to slap Sam awake when he saw Emily wrap herself in her arms in the corner of his eyes. His blood boiled for a minute. She's gonna get herself killed.

“That’s it,” he said. Emily’s eyes shot up to him. Terrified was the only way Dean could describe her. “I’m tired of you being a fucking baby. Wake him up.”

“What?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“You heard me. Stop sitting around and wake him up,” Emily hesitated for a long moment. Her eyes filled with tears, but then she swallowed and stood up. Bobby looked at Dean and shook his head. He didn’t approve. Dean wasn’t sure if he cared or not. Emily stood in front of Sam for an entire minute. “Emily,” said Dean. She flinched and turned towards him. “It’s just a slap, you’ve done worse.”

“It’s Sam,” she whispered. “I- I- don’t-”

“Let’s clear this up: that’s not Sam. Sam can’t hear or feel anything right now. That’s a demon.” Emily rolled her eyes. “And you’re a hunter, so act like it.”

“You want me to act like a hunter?” she asked. Her expression hardened. Dean nodded towards Sam. Emily looked at him and sighed. Dean could hear her breath getting shakier by the second. He looked at Bobby. The man shook his head and grabbed Emily’s arm.

“Enough,” he said. “Emily, sit back down.” He dragged her in front of the pile of books and then slapped Sam awake. Emily flinched. The demon looked at Dean and then above him. He smirked.

“Dean,” he said. “Back from the dead.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn’t it?” The demon looked behind Dean and huffed. “What the fuck is wrong with her?” it asked. Dean turned: Emily was sitting on a pile of books, trying to hide the fact she was crying and pulling on a strand of hair. Dean clenched his fist and glared at Bobby.

“Don’t make me smack that smartass right out of your mouth.” said Dean.

“Oh, careful now,” the demon said with a smirk. “Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging,” Dean huffed and picked up a bucket filled with holy water.

“Oh, don’t worry, this isn’t gonna hurt Sam much,” Dean threw the water on Sam's body and the demon screamed and roared. Dean channeled all his patience to ignore Emily’s sob behind him. She’s just a kid, he thought to himself, snapping’s just gonna make it worse. He swallowed.

“Sam's still my meat puppet. I'll make him bite off his tongue,” said the demon. Dean looked at Bobby.

“No, you won’t be in him long enough,” he said. Bobby started reciting the exorcism. As the demon shook and tried to resist, Dean looked at Emily for a moment and closed his eyes. I swear to God if she doesn’t stop crying- just as he was thinking that, she showed him the finger. He rolled his eyes and brought his attention back to the demon. “See,” he said. “Whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up? You're not getting Sam.” The demon struggled against the restraints. “You understand me? 'Cause I'm gonna kill every one of you first.” The demon’s screams of pain turned into laughter. Dean took a step back and Emily looked up, confused.

“You really think that's what this is about?” said the demon. “The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan.” Bobby continued reciting the exorcism, but it didn’t seem to work anymore. Dean frowned. A long moment of silence followed. Even Emily wasn’t crying anymore.

“Ops.” said the demon. “Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks.” The floor cracked behind Dean, Emily was standing right behind him. She's gonna get herself killed. He thought as held out his arm to keep her away. The demon recited words in latin and the room started shaking. Wind gusted in, opening books and making papers fly everywhere.

“Bobby, what’s happening?” asked Emily. Dean looked at the man. He walked closer to Sam and moved up his sleeve. “Shit-” said Emily, pushing past Dean’s arm.

“What?” he asked, confused. “What is that?”

“Binding link,” she said. Dean frowned, confused and Emily rolled her eyes. “It’s a lock, it- it keeps the demon inside.” Before Dean could ask anything else, the ceiling cracked, breaking the trap and setting the demon free. The room went silent. Emily dried her face as the demon stood up. With a gesture, Bobby flew against a wall and passed out. Dean wasn’t able to react that he felt his body take off and then everything went black.

She was alone. All alone. Dean was barely conscious, unable to move, Bobby was passed out- or worse. Emily was the only one left. The demon looked at her and smirked. It gestured towards her the same way they’d done for Dean and Bobby, but nothing happened. The demon stopped walking and raised a hand towards Emily again. She felt a force push her, but not strong enough to actually move her.

“What the hell?” said the demon. Emily felt a rush go through her. It was then or never. She had to fight back. But how?

“Having trouble?” she smirked, trying to buy herself time. “Ran out of juice?” The demon seemed angry at her words.

“Don’t worry.” said the demon. “We can settle this the old way.” The demon walked to Emily and grabbed her from her hair, pushing her against the wall. All attempts at setting herself free were useless: Emily couldn’t do anything against juiced-up Sam. “By the way,” said the demon. “Sending me back to hell had to be against the girl code.” The demon punched Emily and that was when she recognized it. It was Meg. With another punch, Emily felt her nose give out. “I saw you crying earlier,” Meg said with a smirk. “you must be so worried for Sam… if only he cared about you as much as you care about him.” Emily fought against Meg’s restraints, but only managed to amuse the demon. She held her up by her throat. “Oh, don’t get angry at me. You’re to blame, aren’t you? You’re broken beyond repair and nobody can help you. Not even Sam.” She tightened the grip around Emily’s throat. “Not that he even wants to try.”

Get off. Thought Emily. Meg smirked, happy to see Emily wasn’t able to fight back. Get the fuck off of me. Emily used all her strength to push Meg away one more time and the demon flew across the room. The room went silent as Sam’s body fell to the floor with a thud. Dean grunted something and tried to stand up, but fell back down. What the hell. She thought. Was that me? Emily's breath started going short. That was me. She looked at Sam's body. That's something monsters do, why am I- Dean grunted something and Emily focused back up. The link. She had to break it if she wanted Meg to get out. She located a knife on the floor and grabbed it. She grabbed Sam's arm cut a line through the binding lock. Sam’s eyes shot open and turned black. Emily fell backwards as the demon left his body in a trail of black smoke. She pushed back on her feet and dragged herself to lean against a wall. Why wouldn’t Meg powers work? How did she fight back? Was it her powers? She heard a window crash and looked up, scared. A book flew through the room and landed next to Dean’s head.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he asked.

“I’m- I’m not doing anything!” Emily dried her face from the tears and tried to take a deep breath. Her lungs contracted back up, leaving her breathless. John was right. She was going to turn into a monster. In fact, she already had. The window behind her shattered and glass showered her.

“Emily, stop!” Dean’s voice got to her like he was in another room. She figured it out. It was her. Having demon-given powers apparently came with the burden of not being able to have a panic attack without misfiring them. Glass shards surrounded her. She was a monster. Plain and simple. There was nothing she could do if not wait for the day Dean would kill her.

No longer you

From EPIC: The Underworld Saga

Emily opened her eyes. She didn’t recognize the ceiling above her. That wasn’t where she’d gone to sleep. She sat up.

“Sam?” she called and looked around. But Sam wasn’t there. And he wasn’t going to be for the following forty-eight hours. She wasn’t alone, though. In the house there were other “chosen children”. She didn’t like them much. She followed them and helped them get food, but she didn’t rely on them or tell them much about her. She knew much better than to trust anybody in a situation like that. Something didn’t sit quite right. There had to be a reason they were all there, and it couldn't be a good one. Sam appeared in the city the following day. That night, Yellow-Eyes talked to her in her sleep. He raved and raved about how much more powerful than everybody else she was. About how she was to beat them all. How she was special. He showed her the night he came to her house and gave her the demon blood.

“You see, getting all that blood out of me wasn’t easy,” he said. “But I needed to see what would happen if I overpowered you. The other people in this town… they only got a couple of drops. More than enough to mess you up, but you and the rest of your group… Oh, the things you could have done.” Demons lied. They lied all the time. She knew it. But he wasn’t lying about the bottle of blood. Her mom saw it. And her mom wouldn't lie. She tried to stick with Sam, make sure they had each other's back, at the very least. But she couldn't. Not until the very end. The last thing she ever heard Sam say was:

“I'm going to check on Ava, will you be okay out here?” Emily had nodded, and Sam had left. The rest of the night was a confusing, scary mass of pain and horrible memories. Dean arrived too late. She’d been trying to keep Sam alive for over an hour. Next to her, Jake’s mangled body, the pipe she used to cave his face in was still halfway inside of his body. His blood and Sam’s blood pooled at her knees, soaking her overalls and her t-shirt as she kept his heart pumping the little to no blood that was left in him. Who was she kidding? Sam had been dead for way over an hour. No amount of med school could have prepared her for that. No amount of surgeries. He got stabbed through the heart and the spine, no amount of pressure and no amount of cardiac massage could save him. But she was stuck in that motion, arms, face, her entire body, covered in blood, and no ribs in Sam's chest left to crack.

When Dean finally showed up, she wasn’t even crying anymore. She was still pumping Sam's chest even though his body was already cold. Sam was dead. She couldn’t save him. Dean's face when he walked through the door, she was sure she would never forget. It was a mixture of shock and disgust, and maybe it was because of Jake's guts and brains on the floor, or maybe it was because she was still alive, and Sam wasn't, and Dean would have gladly had it the other way around. It took him a good deal of force to move her away from Sam. She didn't say anything, not a single word, she just kept pushing Sam's chest in. But eventually, Dean moved her away, and took Sam's body to the car. Emily looked from a distance. She knew perfectly well that a small word, a breath too loud, would ignite a fight she did not want to have. Not then, not there. Not anymore. Sam was dead because of her. Because of her distraction. She left him alone. She should have never left him alone. It was all her fault. She thought it and she was sure Dean thought it too.

Nobody spoke for the rest of the night. Emily sat on the couch, looking at Dean's every move. She tried to cry as quietly as possible. She didn't wash her body or her clothes, the stench of the dried blood perpetually making its way into her lungs. Bobby walked into the house with fried chicken in his hand.

“You oughta get clean,” he said. Emily shook her head. Bobby walked to the couch. “Your wrists okay?” he asked. Emily looked down. They were purple. She'd kept going on Sam's chest so much she probably broke them.

Emily dared to move only when she saw Dean opening up the second whiskey bottle of the night. There was nothing she wanted to deal with less than a drunk Winchester. Not that night. She sighed and stood up, pretending to be confident but still holding her breath. She walked to the table and took the bottle away from Dean’s hands. She poured herself a big glass of whiskey and sat down next to Dean.

He briefly looked at her, but didn't say anything. He slid the bottle closer to him.

“Dean, I-” she tried to say.

“Shut up,” he said, his knuckles whitening around the glass. Of course, thought Emily. What was I thinking, sitting here like this? That we could be siblings for just one fucking day? She stood up, nervous.

“Okay, I'll-” she whispered, taking one step towards the main room.

“GOD DAMN IT, I SAID SHUT UP, NOT LEAVE!” Dean grabbed her from her wrist and stopped her. Emily froze. Tears filled her eyes and Dean let go of her wrist as if it was made of fire. Emily made her way back to her chair. Dean didn't bother to look at her. He got what he wanted, and that was enough. She took a deep breath. She dried her face from the tears and didn't dare standing up. A couple hours of silence later, Bobby showed up again, with the same, cold, soggy chicken he had already offered them twice. They refused in unison.

“You should eat something,” he said. Emily was trying to find a polite way to send him his way, but Dean had, of course, other plans.

“I said I am fine,” he said, sharp.

“Dean, I hate to bring this up, I really do,“ he said, putting down the chicken. Emily tried to signal him to stop, already knowing what he wanted to ask, but he ignored her. “But don't you think maybe it's time… we bury him?” The glass of the window to Emily’s right cracked. She closed her eyes.

“No,” said Dean, going back to his glass of whiskey and clearing the table of some glass shards.

“Maybe we could...”

“I said not yet.” Dean said, raising his voice. The glass in Emily's hand exploded, cutting her hand. Not that it made any difference, given the amount of blood she was covered in.

“I want you to come with me,” said Bobby. “There’s something going on.”

“Take Emily.” said Dean. Emily looked at Bobby and shook her head. He gestures her to wait.

“I didn’t ask Emily, I asked you.” Dean stood up and stared at Bobby.

“Dean,” said Emily. Her voice was supposed to sound stern, like a mother, but it came out like a plea. He turned towards her and then, something weird happened. Dean sat back down. Emily dragged her cut hand on her overalls, already stiff with blood, and gestured at Bobby to go outside. He followed her outside the kitchen and closed the door.

“Bobby, just go, okay? We'll be fine,” she said.

“Listen, something is going down. Something apocalyptic. I could use your help,” said Bobby. Emily crossed her arms. She looked inside the room. She had to be the bigger person. She had to stay.

“We'll be fine,” she repeated. “Really.” Bobby seemed to ponder for a second. He sighed and patted Emily’s shoulder. Then, he left.

When the night fell once again on Sioux Falls, she was still sitting next to Dean. She blinked, and Yellow-Eyes appeared in front of her. She stood up and reached for her gun. Dean didn’t move, her body didn’t either. She was standing above it, like a weird dream. The demon smiled.

“Howdy, Emily,” he said. Emily kept pointing the gun at him. “You wanna put that away?” He quietly stood still, until Emily lowered her gun. It wasn’t going to do anything anyway. “Congratulations, by the way. You are the last man standing. Again.”

“Bite me,” she said.

“Oh come on, don't be like that. I was rooting for you!” The demon grinned.

“I see you had fun,” she said. “Was it really necessary? For Sam to die?”

“I needed the strongest of the lot, I didn't want to settle for the silver medal.” The demon walked closer to her. “I want the golden champion, and that's you.”

“You need me?” asked Emily. “I'm not helping you.” The demon smiled.

“Oh, I got a laundry list of things for you to do.” Emily scoffed.

“You killed my brother!”

“Woah there- I didn’t do anything,” said the demon. “Hate the player, not the game. Jake killed your brother and… you already smashed his brains with a pipe for it.”

“Semantics,” said Emily. “I’m not helping you.”

“Emily.” said the demon, tapping his fingers together. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here. You help me, I help you. This is a partnership,” he said. Emily put her hands on her waist. “Maybe, if you help me, I can… I don’t know. Bring Sam back.” Emily remained silent and swallowed. The demon smiled, satisfied. “Sammy, the only one who understands you, the only one who wants to be your sibling. How are you going to survive without him? Just you and Dean? That’s not sustainable, is it?”

“I can handle him,” she said. The demon smirked. He knew as well as she did, she could not handle Dean. Not if he blamed her for Sam's death.

“Can you?” he asked. “Look at him. He’s angry. He’s going to hate you, Emily.” Emily shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “See, you blame me for Sam’s death. He blames you.” Emily dried her face. “But if Sam comes back, how could Dean hate you? He’s going to look at you differently. You would be the one who saved his precious little brother. Maybe- Maybe he would even treat you as family.” Emily sighed. Her breath shook. It was tempting. Probably a little too tempting. But Dean wasn’t going to be happy she teamed up with Yellow-Eyes to bring back Sam. It was all a lie. He wouldn’t be proud, he wouldn’t treat her any differently. He never would.

“Fuck off,” she said. The demon disappeared with a smirk.

Emily closed her eyes one second too long and fell asleep. When she opened them again, Dean was not next to her anymore. She ran out of the kitchen doors and saw him about to leave.

“Going somewhere?” she asked.

“I-” Dean tried to speak, but was interrupted by the door slamming behind him. Emily knew using her powers was just going to make him more nervous, but it was quicker than walking to the door by foot. Dean flinched and revealed he was holding a metal box. The key to the door turned and flew towards Emily. She extended her hand and grabbed it.

“What is that?!” she yelled, pointing at the box in Dean’s hand. But she knew exactly what it was.

“None of your business,” he said. Emily walked to him and took the box from him.

“You have any idea how long I spent reading here?” she asked. “You are selling your soul.”

“It's my soul, I can do whatever I want with it.” Dean took the box back. Emily pushed Dean against the wall next to the door. The box fell to the floor and clanged, and Emily locked it away. It tumbled and opened, the contents falling on the floor.

“You sick-” she said, “unaffectionate, son of a bitch.” Emily pushed Dean into the wall harder. She wasn't sure where she was getting all that strength from, especially with two broken wrists. But she was, and she wasn't in pain, so she had to go with it. “Did you already forget how it felt when dad did the same for you?!”

“You don’t get it,” said Dean, cold.

“I don't…” she repeated, closing her left hand into a fist as she kept Dean pinned against the wall with the other one. “What am I supposed to do, uh?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Just let you kill yourself?”

“Not any of my business,” he answered. Emily punched him. Tears pushed on the corners of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Not now. She thought, holding her breath. Dean barely reacted. She hit him again, bursting into tears immediately after.

“I knew you didn’t care about me, but this-” Emily sniffed. “What am I supposed to do when you die?” she asked.

“Honestly? I don’t care. Now move.” Emily felt blood rushing to her brain and punched Dean again. “You don’t want to do this,” he said. “Fucking move.” Emily pushed Dean further into the wall, which cracked under the pressure.

“You will have to step over my dead body to get out that door,” she said.

“Don’t challenge me.” Emily threw Dean away from the wall and pushed him on the floor.

“Wow!” she yelled, trying her best to not get interrupted by her sobbing, which was slowly closing down her nose. “You’d really rather kill me than having to spend the rest of your life alone with me?” She kicked him in the stomach. Dean used his legs to protect himself, but didn’t try to fight back. “So much for being my brother!” Dean slowly stood up.

“Move,” he said. Emily scoffed.

“Fuck- NO! I’M NOT GOING TO MOVE!” She yelled. “Either fucking kill me or find another fucking way to deal with this!” Dean sighed and then tried to punch her. Emily intercepted his drunken fist and pushed him against the wall again.

“I don’t want another way,” said Dean. Emily swallowed. So, he wanted her dead. Maybe that went two ways. “Why would I? I can’t even look at you.” Emily let Dean’s arm go and he pushed her away. “You’re a monster. And you’re the reason he’s dead.”

“Good job, Dean!” she screamed, taking a step back. “Way to be a brother.”

“I AM NOT YOUR BROTHER!” Dean yelled. Emily’s body froze for a second, a window exploded. Then, a wave of void pervaded her. It was all for nothing. She could try all she wanted. She could be the best hunter, the best sister, the best nurse. But it was all for nothing. He didn’t even consider her his sister. Yellow-Eyes was right: Dean hated her.

“Right,” she whispered, drying her face. “Of course. How could I ever think something like that.” She took the key to the door out of her jeans pocket and threw it to Dean. “You know what?” she said. “Kill yourself. I don’t care.” She turned and swallowed the actual words she wanted to say. He wanted her dead and she didn't care enough to not want him dead. Not anymore. Emily opened the door herself and walked out. She went around the house and deep into the salvage yard, hiding in an old Mustang she used to hide in to avoid training.

“Now, now, don’t be like that.” said a voice next to her, startling her. It was Yellow-Eyes, sitting in the passenger's seat. “I am sure it’s nothing bringing back Sam can’t fix.”

“No. I am not helping you.” said Emily.

“Oh, come on, I am literally the only person who would talk to you right now.” The demon smiled at her. “I’m your only friend.”

“You destroyed my life for kicks,” she said. “We’re not friends.”

“I was thinking...” he said. “If you are about to kill yourself-” Emily tried to complain. “And you are, who are you kidding,” Emily looked away. The thought had crossed her mind. What did she have left, anyway? “Why not make it worth your while? He thinks you’re no good, prove him wrong. Bring Sam back. Survive out of spite.” Emily looked at him and swallowed. The demon wasn’t wrong. Dean should have regretted treating her like shit all those years. She wasn't his sister? Fine. She'd show him what he missed out on. He was going to regret it.

“Howdy, Emily,” said the demon’s voice from behind her as she arrived at the agreed destination. “You should probably learn to drive less recklessly. Almost caused a couple of crashes back there.” Emily rolled her eyes and turned.

“Right. Let’s get to business,” she said.

“Alright, alright… fifty miles that way,“ pointed the demon. “I need you to open something for me.” He dipped his hand into his pocket and took out the Colt from it. When Emily tried to grab it, he moved it away. “Now, now, don’t be hasty,” he said. “This is the key for the crypt.” The demon handed the gun to her. She inspected it. It was the Colt. She could have used it on him and kill him. Then and there. But if he died, Sam would not come back. “Remember,” he said. “You open the crypt, Sam comes back to life. It's that easy.” Emily nodded. She sat back in the car and drove in the direction the demon pointed her to. She didn't bother asking for any explanation. What was in the crypt? Unimportant. Why did he need it open? Didn't care. She was going to get a new life. Away from hunting and - most importantly - away from Dean. And whatever was in the crypt? It was his fucking problem. That he fucking causes by being a fucking asshole.

She walked to the crypt and put the gun in the keyhole. The glyphs in the door lit up and spinned. The door started opening. After a moment of stillness, a sea of black smoke knocked her over. She felt the pain of the ground hitting her head and then passed out.

When she woke up, she saw a familiar figure towering her. Bobby was bringing her somewhere. She briefly passed out again and found herself in the backseat of a car.

“Emily, can you hear me?” said Bobby's voice. She groaned, in pain, as a response. The car soon came to a halt. Ellen helped her out of the vehicle. She recognized Bobby's house. No. Not here. Not with Dean.

“Bobby, I-”

“Are you okay?” he said, checking her for wounds. “Hurt?”

“No, Bobby I am fine, please-” She got out of Ellen's hold and leaned on the car. “I have to go, I-” As she tried to walk away, Bobby grabbed her wrist and dragged to the car again. She screamed, the pain in her wrist finally appearing. The adrenaline wasn't enough anymore.

“I knew I shouldn't have left you two alone! What the hell happened?!”

“Dean was about to-” She stopped talking, distracted by the Impala parking behind Bobby's car. A sudden urge to vomit reached her guts. That was not how it was supposed to go. She wasn't supposed to see him again. She covered her mouth and turned away. She failed. Her plan to leave everyone behind? Wasn't going to be able to go through with it. Dean knew she'd worked with the demon. He was going to kill her first.

“What happened?!” asked Bobby, looking back at Dean. Emily gagged and threw up next to the car's wheel. “Okay, that’s it, come inside.” The man tried to help Emily towards the door but she tried to move away. Her legs gave up on her and she fell on her vomit. As if the blood wasn't enough. Quickly standing back up, she stopped anybody from helping her and leaned on the car. “I said no.”

“Alright, you wanna do this here?” said Bobby, crossing his arms as well. “Fine by me.” Bobby looked at Ellen for a second and sighed. “Are you insane?! You opened the gates to hell!” Emily didn't try to defend herself. She’d done it. She'd done it because she wanted Dean to pay. Emily looked up and saw Dean was staring at her, anger pouring out of his expression.

“What the hell are you looking at?!” she asked him. “You did this!” He remained silent. Bobby turned around to look at him.

“Okay, enough with this!” said him, suddenly grabbing Emily by her arm and dragging her in front of her brother. “I’ve had it up to my hair with you two idiots. Now get inside!” Neither of them moved. Emily felt all her rage piling up in her core, ready to explode. “I said get inside!” Yelled Bobby, pushing Emily and Dean through the door. “What the hell happened?!”

“He’s an asshole, that’s what happened!” said Emily, trying to kick Dean away from her. Bobby immediately stopped her and divided the two siblings.

“For the love of Pete, stop hitting him! Be a fucking adult for three whole seconds!” he yelled.

“Me?!” Emily looked at the man, her eyes widening in anger.

“Yes, you!” he said, grabbing her by the arm again and forcing her to sit on the couch. He did the same with Dean. Emily avoided Dean's gaze and stared at the wall in front of her.

“GROW UP, BOTH OF YOU!” screamed Bobby. “Siblings fights, but this has gone too far!” Dean scoffed to word ‘siblings’. Emily rolled her eyes. “You are going to find a way to get along and you are going to do it now!” Bobby leaned on the wall behind him in front of them and gestured to them to go ahead. Ellen appeared through the door and whispered something to him. He whispered something back. The room stayed silent. Emily would have given anything to just be somewhere else. Sam is going to be back any minute now. She thought to herself. I have to get out of here before he does. I can't do this to him. She looked at Dean just long enough to recognize that he had been crying. Too fucking bad. Could have thought about it before being an asshole. She let a sob slip out and saw Dean roll his eyes.

“What?!” she said. “I’m not allowed to cry now?”

“What do you have to cry about?!” he asked. “You did this.” Emily immediately stood up, ready to throw her brother on the floor, but she was interrupted by Bobby’s voice.

“EMILY, SIT THE FUCK DOWN!” Emily rolled her eyes and fell back on the couch.

silence

silence

“What would your brother say?” said Bobby, still staring at them. “Uh? What would Sam say if he was here right now?” Dean and Emily shared a quick look before going back to staring at an indefinite point in front of them. Emily knew exactly what he would say. But saying it would have required her to let their guard down. And she couldn't do it. Not with Dean. Especially not after what he said.

silence

silence

silence

Ellen leaned in to whisper something to Bobby. He nodded.

“I will be back in a second,” he said. “For your own good you better be still there when I come back.” He left the room with Ellen. Emily looked at Dean. He dried his face with the back of his hand. Emily sniffed. For a while, that was the only sound in the room. Emily tucked her legs on the couch and rested her head on her knees.

“You really can’t see it, can you?” she asked. “I also lost a brother. Again.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Sure, yeah,” she whispered, “I never do. After all, I am just a kid, right?”

silence

Be the bigger person. That’s what Sam would have said. He would have told her to just say sorry, to be open. To be vulnerable. Although, she looked at Dean and she found herself only feeling anger.

“Did you even try to save him?” Dean asked. Emily's eyes tipped up.

“Of course I did,” she answered. “Why-”

“Are you sure?”

“He was stabbed in the spinal cord, there wasn’t much I could do.” Emily's feet slipped off the couch.

“So you didn’t even try?!” Dean rolled his eyes. “You just-”

“Jesus fucking christ- YES, I TRIED! I TRIED FOR HOURS BEFORE YOU SHOWED UP!” Emily showed him her wrists, but he didn't look at them. He stared in front of him. She stood up and kicked the table in front of her, making it fall to the ground. The shards of a beer bottle which was resting on it covered the floor in front of the couch and a strong scent of beer spread. “Please, just-” said Emily. “Just stop.” He ignored her. Bobby came back at that exact moment. He stared at Emily, then at the table. Then at Dean.

“Can you go 5 minutes without kicking anything?” He put the table back into a standing position. “Sit back down.” Emily sighed and sat back on the couch. “So, I am not your marriage counselor and it’s been an hour. Are you going to talk or what?!” Dean and Emily looked at each other for a second, then looked away.

“I swear to god-” whispered Bobby. “Emily, don’t you have anything to say to your brother? You’re only alive because he managed to send the fucking demon back to hell!” Emily turned towards Dean. Everything made sense. Sam wasn't coming back. The demon was gone, the gig was up.

“You did… what?!” Bobby tried to drag her down when Emily stood up, but she escaped his grip to walk in front of Dean. “The whole reason I did what I did was that he was gonna bring back Sam and you-”

“And you really believed him?” said Dean. “You really are more stupid than it looks.” He stood up too.

“I was trying to-”

“What?” said Dean. Bobby tried to intervene, but Emily stopped him. “What on earth were you thinking, working with a demon?! With the demon?!”

“You were going to kill yourself!” She pushed him, ignoring the sharp pain in her wrists. Dean pushed her back.

“So you decided to die first so you didn’t have to watch me?!” Emily swallowed. Dean's eyes widened. “That was the plan, wasn't it? You were going to kill yourself.” Emily remained silent. “God, you're fucked up. Like- in the worst way.” Emily tried to slap him, but he was faster and intercepted her arm. The moment she had to resist Dean’s strength, she felt the bones in her wrist shift, but didn't feel any pain. That had to be something with her powers. She could feel them climb up in her.

“I WAS TRYING TO SAVE YOUR UNGRATEFUL ASS!” she yelled.

“AND YOU COULDN'T FIGURE OUT A WAY THAT DIDN’T INVOLVE RISKING YOUR LIFE?”

“COULDN’T YOU?!” Dean tried to answer, but Emily talked over him. “I WAS GOING TO BRING SAM BACK! FOR YOU! AND I WAS GOING TO DIE SO THAT YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO DEAL WITH ME ANYMORE!” Dean raised his hand to hit her but she stopped him just like he did with hers. They stared at each other, blocking each other’s arms. “All these years, I was wondering why it was so difficult for you to just behave like a brother with me. I figured it out: you're an asshole.” Bobby gave up on civility. He looked at them from a few feet away.

“You’re one to talk,” answered Dean. “You never lost a chance to remind me how bad I was doing at being your brother, even if I was trying my best!”

“That was you trying your best?!” Emily scoffed. “You never once treated me like a fucking human being! The nicest thing you call me is a bitch!”

“I call you a bitch because you are a bitch!” said Dean, pushing Emily away.

“Does that justify you forcing me off the ground while I was having a panic attack and couldn't breathe?!” Emily pushed Dean back.

“YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

“I BROKE YOUR NOSE BECAUSE YOU AND DAD STRESSED ME SO MUCH MY BRAIN SNAPPED IN HALF LIKE A FUCKING BREADSTICK!”

“I DROVE YOU ALL THE WAY OUT HERE SO YOU COULD CALM THE FUCK DOWN!”

“I SPENT THE NIGHT IN THE HOSPITAL TRYING TO FIGURE OUT A WAY TO SAVE YOU!” Emily gave Dean one final push. She tried to punch him again but he stopped both her hands. Frustrated and unable to move, she tried to set herself free and started crying again. Soon, her legs started shaking and they gave up on her. She leaned onto Dean’s chest as he was still holding her up by the wrists. “I just wanted you to be my brother!” she said in between sobs. Breathing was becoming more difficult each second, her extremities going more and more numb as time went on. Dean let go of her arms, but she immediately reached for his wrist and held onto it, her nails digging into his skin like it was butter. With a grimace of pain, he tried to get rid of her hold, but she only made it tighter. She felt as if everything was collapsing under her feet and that wrist was the only thing to keep her afloat. Her crying became less and less intense as she lost the ability to breathe, her body completely overwhelmed by a panic attack. The moment her hands let go of Dean’s wrist, he walked back to his room and slammed the door behind him.

Days passed. Sam’s body was deep underground, and so was Dean’s mental state. He was drunk, all day, everyday. Emily didn’t know how to stop him anymore, if not by physically taking the bottle from him. But that made Dean angry. Very much so. And if for a few days after Sam’s burial, he’d just been sad, he quickly turned into the same violent, drunk dick John used to be. Like father, like son, thought Emily the first time Dean had punched her. She looked at him and saw nothing but hatred in his eyes. He hated her for not letting him bring Sam back. That hatred only grew stronger with every time she tried to keep him sober. And some days, that would be the end of it. He would look at her, say to leave him alone, and that was it. Other times, she would be too late, and he’d be too drunk. That was one of those nights. Emily knew the second she stepped foot in the kitchen. She pulled the sleeves of Sam’s flannel further down her arms, knowing full well if Dean saw the state her arms were in, he would have something to say about it, and that something wasn’t going to be nice. It would probably be along the lines of “you’re doing it wrong” or “vertical’d be the way to go”. She’d heard it before. But she’s also heard the sound of the bottle being slammed on the table progressively harder for a while. So, she’d walked down the stairs and inside the kitchen. She took the bottle from the table, but Dean was quick to grab her arm. She winced, the cuts on her arm stinging under the pressure of Dean’s fingers. She closed her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t notice as a cut opened back up and stained the flannel with blood.

“Give it back,” he said. Emily took a deep breath and shoved her arm away. She didn’t answer and turned the bottle to empty it in the sink. “Stop,” he said. “Stop and give it back.” Emily ignored him, more and more liquor falling down the drain. Dean stood up and tried to take the bottle back from her with force but she - somehow- fought him back.

“Leave me alone,” she said, pushing him back towards the table. “I don’t have it in me tonight.”

“You don’t have what in you?” asked Dean. She didn’t answer, the last drops of whiskey falling in the sink. “I asked you a question!” he yelled. When Emily didn’t answer, he tried to grab the bottle from her, but she reacted on instincts and used it to defend herself. As the bottle crashed and shattered on Dean’s face, he took a step back and touched his face where he was bleeding. Emily hissed, her palm dripping blood and liquor on the floor. Dean looked at his blood stained hand for a moment before pinning her to the wall. He looked at her, his eyes narrowing for a moment before he let go of her. She couldn’t for the life of her, figure out what the hell was going through his head in those moments. His mood’d be constantly swinging between trying to hurt her and being sorry for everything.

“S- Sorry, I-” he stuttered, taking a step back. Emily took a deep breath and decided that the best course of action would be to just go along with it.

“It’s fine,” she whispered. “Are you okay?” Dean nodded, but Emily saw him touch his face again where a red, swollen bruise was already forming. Emily touched her cheek for a moment. It had been swollen for weeks. It never had time to heal, because Dean and her were getting into fights almost every day. She opened the drawer next to her and took out a first aid kit. She sat next to Dean. “Come on, let me see.”

“You don’t need to-”

“Shut up,” she said, taking his face and turning it sideways. When Dean tried to move his hands towards hers, she slapped them away. He shook his head, but let her clean the cuts on his face in silence. “What do you want for dinner?” she asked a few minutes later, throwing away the blood-stained cloth she had been using.

“I’m not hungry,” said Dean. Emily filled a glass with water and placed it in front of him. He looked at her, rage filling his features again.

“Just drink the fucking water,” she said. Dean tried to open his mouth. “Don’t make me-” With a sweep of his hand, he threw the glass across the room, making it shatter a few inches away from Emily.

“I’m not a child!” he yelled, standing up. “You don’t need to give me water or- or cook for me!”

“Okay, Jesus!” said Emily. “Do it yourself, then!” Emily rolled her eyes and tried to leave the room. “I’ll-” Was all she could say before Dean spoke again.

“No, stay here,” he said. Emily sighed. She tried to open her mouth to answer, but Dean was faster. “I don’t care what you have to say, just sit the fuck down!” He grabbed her wrist again and dragged her back to the table. It still hurt, no matter how many pain killers she took. Emily fell down on a chair and remained silent. “It’s your fault,” he said. “All- all of this- it’s your fault!” Emily crossed her arms. “Why did you do it?!”

“I didn’t do anything,” said Emily. “And you know it.” Dean shook his head.

“You made me bury his body! It’s all your fault!” He repeated. Emily nodded.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Whatever.” Emily tried to stand back up, but Dean pinned her to the wall again. The chair where he was sitting fell to the floor. “Dean, let me go,” she said, trying her best to look calm. “You know this doesn’t work.” Not that it ever mattered. Not that staying calm had ever worked. And so it didn’t that morning. She could have used her powers to set herself free, but the only thing it had ever done was make Dean exponentially angrier, and she really didn’t have the patience to deal with that. “Dean, let-” Dean’s hand collapsed with her face and she closed her eyes, inhaling sharply to try and not react to the stinging pain on her cheek. “I bet you feel so much better now.” Dean slapped her again. She bit the inside of her cheek and closed her eyes. Ten. Nine. Eight. Dean put her down and she opened her eyes. Seven. Six. Five. He looked at his hands for a moment before turning. Four. Out of Dean’s line of sight, Emily took a deep breath and touched her face. Three. She hissed, in pain. Two. One. Right on time, Dean’s shoulders twitched. Emily sighed and dragged a hand across her face.

“Can I go now?” she asked. She really didn’t want to stop and comfort him after he’d hit her.

“You can do whatever the fuck you want,” said Dean, not turning. Emily left the room and closed the door behind her. She leaned on it. It was over. It was fine. Bobby was looking at her from the end of the hallway. He frowned.

“Please tell me I’m wrong,” he said. Emily shook her head. Don’t cry. She repeated to herself. Don’t fucking cry.

“Sweetheart, you can’t keep this thing going. It’s just gonna get worse.”

“It’s fine,” she whispered. “He’s right. I’m the reason Sam’s dead. I fucking deserve it.” That was not what Emily had planned to say, but she did anyway. She was too tired to hold back. Too drained of any mental energy to lie again. She heard a bottle collapse with the door behind her and smash. She winced. Bobby’s eyebrows raised. He walked closer to her.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m serious! Sam’s dead because of me, Dean’s right to hate me!” Bobby opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, looking between her and the kitchen door.

“Weren’t you going somewhere?” He finally said, nodding towards the stairs. Emily sighed and kept walking to the bathroom.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” she heard Bobby yelling through the house. She locked the bathroom door and covered her ears. She started sobbing. “SHE HOLDS HERSELF RESPONSIBLE!” Stop. She pleaded in her mind, trying to control her breathing. “HAVE YOU SEEN HER ARMS? IT’S LIKE A FREAKING JACKSON POLLOCK!” Just stop. Emily’s breath cut to almost nothing, her lungs contracting without any coherence and stopping her from breathing. She laid on the floor in hopes that the cold tiles would help her calm down. Her vision was blurry and her limbs were numb. A few minutes later the door opened. Bobby helped her up.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. Emily’s leg gave up. Bobby wrapped a hand behind her shoulder and groaned under her weight but did, nevertheless, walk her to her room. Emily sat on her bed, her legs shaking and her breath short. She was starting to get light headed. She needed to calm down or she was going to pass out. Bobby crouched in front of her. “Focus on me, okay sweetheart? You gotta breathe right.” Emily nodded. She tried to inhale, but her lungs didn’t comply. She folded at her waist, coughing. Bobby sighed and looked around. He located a paper bag that probably used to contain take out. “Here,” he said. “It’s supposed to help.” Emily tried to hold the piece of paper, but the tension in her body was too much, she was shaking, her hand wouldn’t grip on the paper. Her crying intensified as she repeatedly slammed her hand on the mattress, frustrated. Bobby crouched in front of her. He didn’t know what to do. Emily could tell. There was only one person who could help her. Only one person that would have been able to calm her down.

“HE’S DEAD!” she screamed. “JESUS, BOBBY, HE’S FUCKING DEAD!” Bobby tentatively put a hand on Emily’s shoulder. Emily’s sobbing only increased. Bobby stood back up.

“Kid, give me just a minute. I’ll be back.” He left the room. Emily tried several times to tame her lungs before she managed to get one deep breath. Then, she very slowly calmed down. Bobby re-entered the room about an hour later.

“That was a long minute,” sighed Emily. She was brushing her hair after taking a well deserved shower to wash away the leftover panic. Bobby ignored her remark.

“We need to talk, kid.” At those words, Emily moved her eyes from the mirror to Bobby. “I talked with Ellen.”

“No.” said Emily. “Bobby-”

“She agreed on letting her stay with her and Jo for a while. Until this blows over.” Emily put down the brush.

“I’m not going to move to- No!” she complained.

“Listen, all this talk about how you deserve it and it’s all your fault- it's out of control.” Emily looked at Bobby, eyes wide in shock. “Not negotiable.”

“Wh-”

“I would start packing if I were you.”

Later that night she was in her room, reluctantly packing, when her attention was raised by the sound of glass breaking. She walked down the stairs. Something else broke.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Emily said, entering the kitchen, worried. There stood Dean, a beer bottle in his hand and several broken glass shards lying on the floor in front of him. “Give me that,” she said, extending her hand towards the bottle he was holding. Dean didn’t move. “I said-” she took a step and forced the bottle out of his hands. Not putting up any fight, he let her take the bottle. “Dean!” She snapped her fingers in front of him. “What is going on?!” Just like someone who is permanently trapped in a box, Dean stared in front of him with the empty eyes. She figured he was way past the violent level of drunk. That he had kept drinking after Bobby had taken over. Emily grabbed Dean’s face and unceremoniously turned him towards her. The cold from her hands seemed to wake Dean up. He looked at her just like he had just noticed her presence. His eyes filled with tears. “Wait, are you-” she let go of him, shocked. It was the first time Emily saw Dean crying after Sam had died. Dean rolled his eyes and turned the other way, putting his hands on the border of the sink, his head dangling in between. “Dean, what’s going on?” She heard him sniff as an answer. She put a hand on his shoulder and made him turn her way. She would much rather see him angry and on the verge of punching her. Anything but like that. “Come here,” she said, pulling him towards her. He strongly smelled of liquor, even more than usual. He broke down crying as soon as she wrapped him with her arms. Dean Winchester wasn't a sobber, but Emily felt his body wince several times. Suddenly, it felt like she was holding a porcelain doll. Like he was going to break if she wasn’t too careful. Or maybe like if he was already broken. “It’s alright,“ she whispered. She let him cry on her shoulder. When Emily felt Dean's heart go back to a normal rate, she unwrapped her arms from around him. She cupped his face, just like her mother would always do to her when she cried, and dried his face with her thumbs. She didn't know what the fuck she was doing. All she knew was that for some reason, all she wanted to do was help. Because maybe that was the time she fixed him. And she wouldn't have to move. “What about some coffee? Dry up your head a little?” He nodded. Dean sat down at the table and Emily filled the coffee maker with water. With a familiar beep she had heard several times everyday since they landed at Bobby’s, it started heating itself up. The coffee scent started spreading in the kitchen. “First things first,“ she said, opening the cabinet. “...water.” She filled two glasses with water and placed one in front of Dean while keeping one for herself. He didn't seem to pay too much attention to the gesture, still wrapped in whatever he was overthinking about. “Dean!” she called. “Drink the water.” He automatically grabbed the glass and started drinking. “Did you have any dinner?”

“Yes- I- uh… No,” he said. Two seconds later, the sound of a pan hitting metal echoed in the room. “Come on, Emily, you don't have to do this...” Emily ignored him and moved a couple of blood jars to finally reveal the peanut butter she had bought weeks before. She sniffed it. Good enough. Then, it was time to find the jam, which luckily resided in the fridge, and the bread. She lit the fire under the pan and started toasting the bread. She poured coffee into a cup and handed it to Dean. “I told you, it's not-”

“Drink it,” she said, moving the cup closer to him. “You've been the big brother all your life. Let me be the older one for a second, okay?” He looked at her for a second before taking a sip of the coffee. She forced a smile and went back to the bread. Soon, it was toasted and Dean had a peanut butter and jelly toast in front of him. “Do you want me to take crusts away or...” She joked, unwrapping a snack bar, she sat on the table. Dean looked at the food but hesitated to eat it. She pushed the plate a little closer to him. He suddenly stood up.

“Emily, I said it's fine,” he said.

“Come on, Dean, it's just food!” Dean's fists clenched and he put them on the table.

“Drop the act,” he said. “Bobby told me.” Emily felt her blood freeze in her veins before resuming its regular course at full speed. “I hope you're happy, finally getting rid of me.”

“Getting rid of-” Emily frowned.

“Yeah, you think I don’t see it? You can’t wait to leave,” said Dean. Emily raised her eyebrows.

“Dean, that’s not true-”

“Right,” he said, sarcastic. Emily scoffed.

“I literally just cooked you your first meal in what, two days? What is the next thing you say going to be, that I don’t care about you?”

“That’s exactly my next point, yes.” said Dean.

“Are you serious?”

“Never been more serious.” said Dean. Emily pushed herself away from the table.

“So you really think that I don’t give a shit?” Dean also stood up from the chair.

“You wouldn’t leave if you actually cared!”

“Dean-” she stuttered, getting more and more nervous. “I am being forced to leave by Bobby because you keep acting like a fucking asshole.” They stayed in complete silence. Dean didn’t answer and Emily eventually leaned against the table again. “Dean?” she called a while later. Dean raised his eyes from the table.

“Uh?”

“You’re going to pick up hunting again. aren’t you.”

“Maybe.” To that answer, Emily couldn't help but shiver. Emily closed her eyes.

“Ok,” she said with a deep sigh. Dean scoffed.

“See? If you cared, you would have fought me on this.”

“Do you want me to fight you on that?” The clock ticked, the room silent for what seemed like hours.

“Yeah,” said Dean. Emily pushed herself away from the table. She walked around the it so that she would be in front of Dean.

“Why on earth would you go back to hunting?” she asked.

“It’s the family business. People are dying because we are not out there,” said Dean. Emily clenched her fists.

“Dean, hunting took everything away from us! I mean, your mother, my mother, Sam, dad, Alex-” She said.

“That’s exactly why I do that: so that no other families are ruined.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yes but Dean, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“When are you going to decide it’s your turn to be happy?” she sighed. “When is it your family's turn?”

“So what, now I make you unhappy?”

“How do you think being your punching bag makes me feel?!” Emily took a deep breath, holding back tears. Not now Emily, don’t start crying now. “This is not you, and I know losing Sam hurts like hell-” She said. “I’m trying to be the older sibling here, okay? I am trying, but you-” She winced, unable to control a sob. She put both hands on the table. “You’re making it damn hard to keep helping you.”

“Emily-”

“What?!” She walked on the other side of the table to face Dean. “Emily what? You want to punch me? Cool.” Emily pushed him. “Give Bobby more reasons to make me leave.”

“I should have guessed you would have jumped at the first chance of getting rid of me,” said Dean.

“You know what?” she said, raising her hands in defeat. “Why do I keep trying with you? You don't care about being siblings, you just want to fight! You are so frustrated you have to turn on those who are trying to help you, damn it!”

“I am not-”

“SHUT UP!” She made a window explode to her left. She did it on purpose. Just to prove a point. “SHUT THE FUCK UP! I am busting my ass out to keep you fucking alive, and you have the nerve to tell I don’t care? I AM DONE! YOU WANT ME TO NOT CARE SO BAD? WELL, ENJOY!”

Ellen was due to come pick her up the following morning. When Bobby came to knock on Emily’s room, he found it empty. Just a piece of paper on the bed.

I’ll figure it out.

The movie in my mind

From Miss Saigon

Her life looked normal. After staying in a terrible motel for a while, she started seeing Daniel, the guy she had met at the fitness track, more and more often and after a few weeks he just asked her to move in with him. Which was weird, and rushed, and sudden, but he probably felt bad about her sleeping in her car. She didn't like him. It wasn't love. It was just what had to be done. It was just what being normal meant.

Her life looked perfectly fine, she went grocery shopping and worked extra shifts at work to pay for rent and food and she would make pizza for her, Daniel and all their friends. They would have outdoor trips and go clubbing on saturday nights, when Daniel wasn’t working. Nothing that any other 18 year old would not have done. She had swore herself to never talk about her brothers with Daniel. Emily knew he would not understand. So she just left them or any reference to her past life outside of her relationship. And that was secret number one.

Secret number two was her real job. Daniel and all their friends thought she was a bartender, but that was not quite right. She finally had found a use of all those years of ballet, and became a stripper. At first, she wasn't sure why she'd gotten into it. But with months passing, it got clearer. It was because stripping, which had evolved into just selling her body to “trusted clients” in just a few weeks, was the closest thing to hurting herself that didn't leave any marks. Not unless she asked for them. Of course, she did not like it. Which led her to drink. And drink more. And more. Some nights she would just lay there, whispering dirty words to whoever was fucking her, falling asleep at three minutes interval. Not that it pissed anybody off. No. The people that paid her were so disgusting they probably enjoyed her being drunk and half asleep way more than they enjoyed her being awake. Her life looked normal, but it wasn't. Nothing about her life was normal.Just this once. Then I'll quit, she always said. But she never did.

While she wandered around the aisles at the grocery shop, she found herself thinking about Dean. She had no news of him since she had left. He didn't try to reach out to her and she didn't either. She had to imagine that after all those months, he would already have started hunting again. Maybe he was dead. The thought stopped her in the middle of the supermarket. She shook it away and kept walking. She would have never admitted it to a single living soul, but she missed him and she missed Sam. She didn't miss the fights or the pain and the hunting, she missed always having them around. She missed Sam pretending to bite her arm every time she answered “Bite me.” and she missed sitting in silence doing research. She missed having someone she didn't have to lie to as often. Every single second of her life felt like a lie. She lived with a boyfriend that thought she used to live in Kansas and had moved into South Dakota after her parents divorced. A boyfriend she didn't even like, let alone love. Her friends liked to joke about how she had never had a real problem in her life before that, that she was so naive and soft. If only they had seen what lied under her sleeves. As bad as her old life was, at least it was with people who knew the real her, the one which had made Dean mad cold killing a shapeshifter that looked like him without double checking first, the one who opened the gates of hell trying to get her brother’s attention. The one who had thrown tables and sewn wounds, the one who slept for two days after having a nervous breakdown. The one that she dreaded so much. The one she was striving to hurt every single time she left to go to work, hiding, at night. And that’s what she did that night, after Daniel had left to go work a long shift at the hospital. She hopped into her car and drove to the Sky Lounge. With the Sky Lounge came a lot of secret friends, which all shared the same thing: they would not say their actual name. The nickname the rest of the girls chose for her was Sam. Ironic. The girls at the Sky Lounge were good. They tried to be there for each other. They walked each other to their cars, gave each other lifts… They tried to keep each other safe. They had to.

That night, she got out on stage and something felt off. The atmosphere was more tense than usual, especially around a specific table, where two men appeared to be arguing. When she turned back, two other girls from the backstage also seemed nervous about the commotion. Apart from the unusually tense mood, everything else went as usual. After finishing her show, she chugged five shots with the bartender and then, quite drunk, headed out to her “trusted client”. After forty five endless minutes of low quality, no lube sex, she got her money, got into her car and locked herself in. She drew a big breath and tried to resist the urge to cry, covering her face with her hands and opening a crack in the window to let some summer air in. She opened her eyes, vision still blurry from the tears and started the engine. A familiar figure was staring at her from a distance, in the shadows. For a second, she thought it was Sam but then, after drying her eyes, the figure was gone. She deemed it on the alcohol. She got home and entered the shower, her thoughts wandering back to Dean. She dried her hair and stared at her phone. A call could not hurt, right? Maybe a text. Or maybe it wasn’t any of her business. She already had enough problems on her own to think about what Dean had been doing. The following days, she went to work and tried to not think about Dean for a minute. Occasionally, she would stare at his contact on her phone and thought about calling him. The worst thing that could happen was that it would go to voicemail. But again, she had enough problems. Weeks passed. Her life kept being extremely fake and painful while still looking extremely happy and normal.

She was preparing a birthday cake for a party later that night, musical theater tunes in the background, when someone knocked on the door. She licked the frosting away from her fingers, humming to the Grease soundtrack and walked to the door. She opened the door and it took her a handful of seconds to realize she was looking at Dean.

“Hey there,” he said with a tight smile. She looked behind her, hoping Daniel had not seen her brother, but there he was, coming down the stairs.

“Are they here already?” he asked while closing the last button of his shirt. Emily looked back at Dean.

“Uh- no, Dan, this- this is Robert,“ she lied. “He’s an old family friend.” Daniel arrived at the door. He moved his hand toward Dean to shake his.

“Oh, cool! I’ve never met anybody from Emily’s family. Are you like an… uncle?” He smiled.

“Something like that, yes,” answered Dean with another tight smile. “Emily, can I- can we speak for a minute? In private?”

“Actually,” she said, already trying to close the door. “...we are kind of busy, can I maybe call you later?”

“Oh, nonsense!” Daniel said, walking past Emily and opening the door again. “Come in, I’ll make coffee!” He welcomed Dean in and disappeared inside of the kitchen. Sometimes Emily loved how he was always so happy and cheerful, but in that moment, she could not help but hate him.

“So...” said Dean, following Daniel with his gaze. “You got the life you wanted, uh? Picket fence, surfer-type boyfriend… You really-”

“What do you want?” she cut him short. Dean scoffed.

“What, I can’t come visit my little sister?” He asked.

“We haven’t spoken in months,” she answered, nervous. “Why are you here?”

“Nice house, by the way,” he said, sitting on the couch. “What is this, eleven, twelve hundred dollars each month?”

“Dean.” Dean raised his hands in front of him, apologetic.

“I’m just saying, you know? You came a long way.”

“Why are you here?!” she repeated. Dean sighed.

“Alright, it’s about a case.” Emily scoffed.

“A c- you're kidding, right?!”

“Your workplace is run by demons.” Emily didn't have the time to ask him what he was talking about, because Daniel got out of the kitchen holding two cups of coffee. Dean smiled and followed him inside the living room. Emily rolled her eyes and closed the door. When she arrived in the living room, Daniel was sitting in front of Dean, leaving Emily only one spot to sit: next to Dean.

“So, Robert, right?” Asked Daniel. “I’m Daniel.”

“Nice to meet you, Daniel. So...” Dean put on a quaint smile and leaned back on the couch. “How did you two meet?” He suggestively raised his eyebrows, gazing at Emily. She scowled at him.

“We met at the fitness track and, well, you know… Life did its thing.” Daniel smiled and reached for Emily’s hand. She smiled, nervous. “So, what do you do?”

“Me?” asked Dean. “Oh, I’m just a car mechanic.” Daniel smiled.

“Oh, just like your dad, right?” he said, holding Emily’s hand.

“Yeah,” she smiled. “It’s… kind of the family business, you know?” She glared at Dean, who was suggestively smiling.

“It really is,” he said. “And, you know- we always wanted Emily to join in as well, but, well- “ Emily turned to him, begging him to stop with her eyes. “…medicine was more important I guess.”

“Medicine?” asked Daniel, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t know?” said Dean, pretending to be surprised. “Emily was in pre-med! She was gonna be a doctor.”

“You were?”

“Yes, I-” she stuttered. ”...I was, but it was so long ago, you know.”

“What happened?” Daniel had suddenly become worried. Dean tried to speak, but Emily interrupted him to say

“Money problems. College is expensive and my parents could not afford it.” Emily drew a sign of relief when the friends she was actually expecting arrived at the door. As Daniel went to let them in, Emily found herself alone with Dean again.

“Come here,” she said, dragging him through the living room and out the back door. Emily looked around, making sure she wasn’t being listened to. “So what, you stalk me now?!”

“What, follow you? No, of course not,” he answered, confused. “I went to check out the case and saw you there.” Emily scratched her nose, thinking.

“Was I-” She stuttered, gesturing at her chest.

“Yep,” Dean looked away. Emily didn't answer. “It’s the Russians,” said Dean. “They’re possessed.”

“Right,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek.

“They’re using the Sky Lounge to trick people into making deals.” said Dean. “We-”

“I hope you don’t expect me to help you,” she said. “I'm out, Dean.”

“Actually, I do.”

“You- Jesus Christ.” She turned away from him and walked towards the door. “You really are something else, aren’t you?”

“Come on, Emily, I don’t need you to hunt or anything, I just need a hand luring them out!”

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You show up here, after months of no contact, after you accused me of not caring enough-” Dean sighed and traced his face with his hand. “...After pushing me over the edge over and over again and you have the nerve to ask for help?” Dean nodded.

“You’re right. Sorry.” Emily stared at him. “I know I don't deserve your help, but I need someone from the inside.”

“No, absolutely not. I am not putting myself against the fucking Russians. Especially now that I know they are possessed.”

“Emily- Okay, listen, I really am-” Daniel appeared in the doorway.

“Em, are you ready? We're about to go.”

“Yes, just give me five minutes, okay?” She smiled. Her eyes lingered where he disappeared through the door. There was no way she would risk the little happiness Daniel could bring her for someone who had shown her time and time again he did not care about being a good brother. “Dean, no. I am sorry.” Dean rolled his eyes. “All of this, you showing up here, trying to get me back into hunting- I can't put up with this anymore. I have a life here. I have people who actually love me and they are not afraid of showing that to me.”

“I-”

“I am trying my best here to move on. So please, please- don't call me, don't try to come here, just- go live your life.” Dean shook his head and left. She went back inside, quickly got dressed and they all got out to party.

Intermission

Tara Reed wasn’t a regular hunter. She was barely a hunter anymore, or so she thought of herself. Sure, the Life follows you everywhere, but she’d sworn to the normalcy of civilian life the second she got pregnant. She’d been wanting an out all her life, but her own safety had never been enough for her to get a permanent address. Emily’s safety, however, - that was a whole other thing.

Tara’s life had been plagued by the supernatural from the second she was born. Grandma Colette had tried to keep Tara and her mother Margaret out of the Life, but Margaret had other plans. She wanted to avenge what happened to her dad and husband. Tara never knew what happened to her grandpa. Or her own dad. Her mother died before ever finding out.

Some hunters used to run homes - most of them closed down by the time Tara was eighteen - where hunters could stay if they were in trouble. Some sort of motels, but with an occult library. That was where Tara was staying when her mother went missing. Tara never saw her again. She was fourteen. The hunting community in Rivergrove took her in and she grew up surrounded by hunters. The Community took care of figuring out what happened to Margaret. To Tara’s dismay, her mother had been killed by the ghosts of a random Delaware couple. A terrible - unpredictable accident that left Tara to her own devices. She became a hunter herself, but with one cardinal rule: vengeance gets you dead, so you never seek it.

By the time Tara was sixteen, she’d been mentored by several hunters. When the Hunter House closed down, she ventured alone. It was only her and her idealistic eighteen year-old brain: make the world a better place, one gig at the time. And never, ever, look for vengeance, because vengeance gets you dead.

On November 11th, 1990, when Tara Reed went into labour, she wasn’t accompanied by a concerned, loving, caring partner. She was alone. She showed up to the hospital alone and, a couple of days later, still alone, she drove baby Emily home. As she secured her into the back of her car, Tara looked at those big, emerald green eyes and promised herself that Emily was never going to know of anything remotely supernatural or evil.

Emily’s name had a special meaning in the Reed family. Whenever grandma Colette would drink a few glasses of wine, she liked to talk about aunt Emily at length.

Aunt Emily was Margaret’s sister, and she’d chosen the normal life, just like grandma Colette had always wanted for all of them. Grandma Colette herself used to be a hunter, but her husband was killed on the Job, and she took the out.

Tara had never seen Aunt Emily in person, and once grandma Colette died, she’d never heard of either of them again. Her mother didn’t like to talk about their family. But she remembered Aunt Emily’s name - and often thought about the fact that she never had to defile a grave, which was what she wanted for her own daughter. Grandma Colette would have been proud to know someone had finally listened to her advice.

Tara looked at the newly rented house and thought it a bit empty. It lacked someone to share it with. Another adult. She looked at her phone and thought about calling him for a moment. Then he thought of what he’d said that night.

“This case is taking too long,” he’d said, “you know I’m looking for the thing that killed Mary.” Tara knew, the second she’d heard of Mary, that there wouldn’t be any wedding bells for her and John Winchester, as much as she would have wanted them. He was after vengeance. And vengeance gets you dead. John heard her say those words and shook his head, dismissive. He pushed the thin, paper-like motel covers away from him and disappeared into the bathroom.

They’d been sleeping together for two months, and Tara didn’t know how to tell him she was falling in love with him. The Life moves fast. Two months in hunter time are three years in regular person time, and they never had the what-are-we talk. They’d shared a couple of near death experiences, and that was it. They’d have sex about it afterwards. Even though John liked to repeat that he worked best alone, they’d been sticking together for a longer case. Tracking down demons, painfully getting information out of them. Tara knew there was no convincing him: John wasn’t as sweet and loving and caring in life as he was behind closed doors, and he wasn’t going to give up avenging Mary. Tara knew, deep down, that she was just a cheap, temporary replacement for what used to be his true love. She didn’t like to think about that, because she was almost sure John was her own true love. She couldn’t imagine her life with anybody else. Problem was, when she imagined her future, she imagined picket fences, when John imagined his future, he only saw hunting.

Emily had John’s eyes. Tara couldn’t look at her daughter without thinking of him. Wherever he was, if he was still alive, if he was still seeking vengeance. Or if vengeance had already gotten him dead. Emily was ten, and had never had to defile a grave. And she never was going to. She was never going to be forced to shoot a gun or learn an exorcism. She was never going to hear about demons or ghosts or any other supernatural being. Emily was homeschooled. She was in theater, ballet and music. Tara was looking into enrolling Emily into high school at the beginning of the school year. It was about time she went to school with other kids, even if significantly older. Tara couldn’t help but think about those two kids. Sam and Dean. John would never shut up about them. By then, they would have been seventeen and twenty two. If they were lucky, Dean - the oldest one - would already have run and brought Sam with him to a safer life.

The boy from Michigan happened to be passing in South Dakota. He was going on holiday with his mom. He was fourteen, and he hadn't thought about the spelling bee in a long time. He was still a gifted student, and still had ambition. He wanted to work with computers, invent something like Facebook, that website from Mark Zuckerberg, or MySpace, which he'd forgotten to update for a few weeks.

His mother had insisted he nevertheless kept studying music, quoting benefits to brain health and memory. The boy suspected she didn't think computers were a stable enough career. But so wasn't music, which was why he had to have straight As in all subjects. While he was waiting for his mother to pump gas, he noticed a music shop right next to the gas station. Making sure his mother saw where he was going, he went to check it out. Emily was ordering the newest releases alphabetically, and didn't see the boy until he pushed the door open and entered. It was just another job that was going to last a few weeks. She greeted him. The boy barely answered, his attention stolen by the music sheet shelf. It covered an entire wall and it contained hundreds and hundreds of music sheets - which Emily had to order by instrument, author and title, to an insane amount of songs of different genres. “Do you play?” asked Emily, stopping her diligent sorting to walk next to the boy. He nodded. “Is there anything in particular you want? The guy who runs the place is like a musical genius. He wrote all these himself, just based on hearing the song.” The boy secretly wanted to ask for Love Story by Taylor Swift, but instead decided not to risk an awkward encounter and asked for Viva La Vida. “Coldplay, uh?” said Emily with a smile. “Good choice.”

That was the first interaction the boy and Emily ever had, but either of them was going to remember it by the time they would meet a second time.

Invisible

From Beetlejuice - The Musical

March, 7th, 2008

Dear Dean.

I don’t even know how to begin this letter. I hope it finds you well, I guess.

First of all, let’s get this straight: I’m dead.

If you are reading this I am sure you already know what happened to me.

There's no way to put it lightly. You ruined everything.

I wasn't happy, mind you, but I was trying. And now,I am about to overdose on some pills one of the girls at Sky Lounge uses to calm down.

That’s right, after all this time, I finally found the courage to just put an end to my misery.

And, surprise surprise, it's all your fault.

After you came to see me, I went to work, as always. Just that time, the Russians weren’t so happy to see me. You see, that stunt of yours, you coming to ask me to get back into hunting, it tipped them off at the fact we are siblings.

They thought if they had me, you were going to look for me.

Idiots.

But they eventually realized. You were not coming. Nobody was. And when they did, they punished me for it.

They drugged me.

I could not stop them or react.

I don’t think you would want to know the details, but let’s just say I was used like a piece of meat. Quite literally.

I can't stand another second with the images of what I have gone through these past days. The amount of times I have begged.

320. Three hundred twenty times and I could not get any mercy.

And it's all your fault.

Fuck you.

Dear Bobby

Don’t worry, I’ll keep this short.

I am very sorry it had to go this way, but I want you to know you were the closest thing to a parent I’ve had since my mother died. Thank you for being more of a dad than John ever was.

Love you

Emily.

Invisible (reprise)

From Beetlejuice - The Musical

Dean leaned back on the Impala. He’d done it. Twenty eight years of preparation, countless nights spent thinking about that exact moment. The moment the demon that killed his mom would be dead. Sam threw his duffel in the backseat and leaned next to him. He took a deep breath.

“You know, when- when Jake’s ghost said…” Sam looked in front of him for a few seconds. Dean closed his eyes. “He said he killed me, Dean.”

“Aren’t you glad he was wrong?” Dean looked at his shoes, then at Sam again. It was a big lie, but he had to keep it going. As long as he could. For the rest of his life, if he could manage.

“I- I don’t know if he was,” said Sam. Dean dragged his hand across his face. Sam had no reason to believe Jake over him, right? The secret was safe. And with him, all the subsequent secrets he’d been keeping. How he died, what happened after he died, how Emily died. “What happened?” asked Sam. “After I was stabbed?” Well I’ll be damned. Sam truly had to be one hell of a psychic. There was no way in hell he knew what was going on.

“I already told you,” said Dean.

“Not everything,” answered Sam. And Dean could have sworn, Sam knew something was up. But he should have known better than to try to hide something from him. Sam always knew if something was wrong. Always.

“Sam, we just killed the demon,” he said, trying to avoid answering a question he really had no answers to. What happened after he was stabbed? How was he supposed to explain that to Sam? “Can we celebrate for a minute?”

“Did I die?” Dean looked away and forced a chuckle out of himself. He had to play it cool. He had no other choice. “Did you sell your soul for me, like dad did for you?”

“What?!” Dean said. “Come on, no!” He tried to laugh again, but he couldn’t. Not while Sam stared him down. Fuck. He thought. He knows, he definitely knows. “I said no!”

“Tell me the truth,” Sam whispered as his eyes filled with tears. Dean looked away. There had to be a way to save it, right? Sure, one secret was out, but the other ones? He could save it. “Dean-” Dean bit the inside of his cheek, holding on for dear life to the last sanity he had and trying not to cry. Not in front of Sam. “How long did you get?” Dean sighed.

“One year,” he said. Sam sniffed and nodded. He dried his face with his palm, just like when he was a kid. “I got one year.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Sam. “How- How-”

“Don’t get mad at me, okay? Don’t do that! I- I had to look out for you and- and- My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner.” Dean immediately regretted his words. Not one single complete conversation on Emily had been carried out since Sam had been back. Not one, mostly because Dean avoided the topic.

“Why?” asked Sam. “Why did it take you so long?”

“Emily,” Dean whispered, staring at his shoes. “She- She stopped me. The night you died.”

“So you… Waited for her to die?” Dean didn’t answer. He looked at Sam for a moment, and it was like he was looking at her again. Just, without the anger. Actually, with less anger. What Sam didn’t know- and he never was to know - was that Dean had wanted Emily dead so many times in those three months, he was disgusted with himself to even think about it. He’d rarely felt so much hatred towards a human, and for what? Just to find himself unable to stop crying over her coffin.

There was no funeral, no nothing. Just him and Bobby, looking at Emily being lowered in the ground. Bobby never said anything, and Dean had accurately avoided showing back to his house after that day, because he knew full well he blamed him. And he was right. Dean was to blame. Everything that happened to her, the job at the Sky Lounge, her kidnapping, her assaults - the mere word brought shivers to his spine- her suicide, they were his fault. And he was never going to forgive himself, just like Bobby was probably never going to forgive him. Emily was the daughter he could never have, and Dean killed her. Why? Because she was there when Sam died, and he wasn’t. Because he was too late, but she wasn’t. But mostly, because he didn’t let him bring Sam back. Or, how she put it - she didn’t let him kill himself. It was gut wrenching to think that she did it - and he couldn’t stop her. In fact, he wouldn’t even know it until almost a week later. She was already too bad to be seen or identified. Her body was already starting to decompose. It didn’t take Dean long to bring Sam back, after that.

“You did,” said Sam. “You did wait for her to die, so-”

“Sam-” Dean tried to say.

“No, no, Dean- I died, she died and you- you only brought me back?” Okay, shit- Sam had no idea of how long passed between his death and Emily’s. Dean had told him a story. She managed to kill Jake, but he stabbed her, too. That she was in and out of consciousness for a week, but didn’t make it, but Sam did. “Why?” Dean didn’t answer. He didn’t know how. He hadn’t thought that deep into his lie.

“My job is to look after you,” said Dean. Sam shook his head. “It is, dad-”

“Okay, but who looked after Emily?!” he asked. Dean looked away. “That’s right,”

“Sam-”

“No, Dean, she- she deserved better than us.” Dean shook his head. “She deserved better than you.”

“That is a nice way to say thank you,” Dean said, crossing his arms. Sam shook his head. “Dude, what do you want me to tell you?! Give you a long speech about how I had to decide between her and you?” Dean said. Sam scoffed. “I didn’t have to decide, okay? She was the only reason I didn’t bring you back sooner, because she asked me not to. But then she died. And so- I brought you back.”

“How do you sleep at night?” asked Sam. That was a good question. Dean didn’t sleep at night. “Look, you- you’re my brother, okay? And I’d do anything for you. I’ll get you out of this deal, you hear me?” Dean nodded. “But I’d have done it for Emily, too.”

“Sam-”

“I hope you’re okay with living the rest of your life knowing she died thinking you’re an asshole.”

“Oh, come on, Sam,” said Dean. “It’s Christmas. Do we really have to drive all the way back to Sioux Falls? Can't we… relax? Have some eggnog?”

“Yes!” said Sam. “Don’t you get it? It was Emily’s favourite holiday!”

“Says who?!” said Dean. “Dude, she barely talked to us, don’t- don’t act like you knew everything about her or something, bec-”

“Stop the car,” said Sam. Dean looked at him. “I said stop the car!” Dean pulled over the side of the road. Sam swung the door open and grabbed his backpack from the back.

“Sammy, come on!” said Sam. “Would you really rather spend Christmas with a dead kid than-”

“She's not some kid! She's our sister!”

“She never wanted in the family, okay?! She hated us!”

“She was barely seventeen, you jerk! She didn't hate either of us! She was scared and- and-”

“Either way, she-”

“Look, are we going to Sioux Falls or not?!” asked Sam. “I'm not going to argue with you on this anymore, Dean, I'm tired of hearing you say the same things about her, day in and day out!” Dean turned off the engine. He opened the door and walked towards Sam. “You need to face it! You were the one who had a problem with her! She was a good kid, and you didn't even try to save her!”

“You don't know what you're talking about!”

“I don't?!” said Sam. “You're gonna tell me she didn't scare you?”

“Wh-”

“She reminded you of how angry and- and scared as you were when you were her age- and that terrified you! Because she refused to stuff it in like you do!” Dean looked at him and shook his head. “You can pretend all you want, but the fact she's dead is messing with you and I can tell!”

“We're not going to Sioux Falls,” said Dean. “And that's final. You want to go- you're gonna have to walk.”

“Hey kid,” said Sam, standing over Emily's grave. “So, you've been gone for six months now,” he looked around. No one else was at the cemetery. “I know you can't hear me, but… I don't know, you used to love Christmas, and…” Sam took a deep breath. “I'm sorry this happened to you, I- I feel like this is all my fault.” An old lady walked past Sam and disappeared behind a corner. “I miss you kid,”

“You know she can't hear you, right?” Sam turned. Dean was standing a few steps away.

“What are you doing here?”

“It's my last Christmas, dude,” answered Dean. “It would suck to spend it alone.” Sam shook his head as Dean walked next to him. “You know, I thought about what you said,” he said. “Maybe you're right, maybe I was… scared of her or whatever.” Sam shook his head. “But it's late now, okay? She's dead. And you have to move on.”

“No,” said Sam. “I don't have to do anything, okay? And trust me, if I could, if- if I didn't swear to you I was going to save you,” said Sam. Dean looked at him. “I wouldn't bother keeping you around.” Dean looked back at the cemetery entrance. He shook his head, looked at Emily's grave for a moment and then walked away.

“I'll wait by the car,” he said.

Act II

Wait for me

From Hadestown

Emily opened her eyes and felt warmth on her face. She had not felt it in a long, long time. Her body’s first reaction was to take air in. She gasped as she moved the dirt from her face. The last thing she remembered from being alive was taking a dozen pills and then laying on the bed, just waiting for the pain to finally stop, for the memories to leave her alone. For the hands to stop touching her.

Then there was hell. But that was over, too. Or at least, that's what it looked like. How could it be over? She was dead, and Dean surely wasn’t going to bring her back. Not after what they’d gone through. Not after he got her killed. She laid on the grass and stared at the blue sky. Like the residual memories from a dream, the more she thought about hell, the less she could remember. For a moment, just for a second, she thought Dean was down there. But it made no sense. She looked around: yard after yard of dried out grass. She turned. She didn’t have a headstone. They’d just buried her in a random field. It had been decades. How could she still be all in one piece? She looked down. She was wearing her own clothes. She was in her own body. The same body she had when she died. So, she was alive. And she was sitting in a random field in the middle of nowhere. Nothing else to do if not find a way back. Back where? Bobby. He’d have helped her. If he was even still alive. She stood up and cleaned herself from the dirt she was covered in. And then she walked, for what seemed like hours, until she saw a gas station, entered and asked to make a call. Bobby was a long shot, after all that time, but it was her only shot. Bobby’s voice answered the phone.

“Hello?” he said, the usual pissed off tone.

“Bobby, it’s- it’s me,” she said. Bobby was alive? Maybe it had been less than she thought. Maybe just one decade.

“Me who?” asked Bobby. Emily looked behind her and lowered her voice.

“Bobby, it's Emily!”

click

“Oh, come on-” she whispered, redialing the number. The barman looked at her, nervous, a hand hovering over a hidden part of the bar. Bobby picked up the phone.

“Who is this?!” he asked, angry. Emily cleared her voice.

“Bobby, listen, I swear it’s me!” she said.

“Yeah, good try.” Before she could say anything, Bobby closed the call. She sighed and asked directions for the nearest bus stop. It turned out, she was in South Dakota. And Bobby wasn’t that far. Maybe a few more hours of walking. The bartender looked at her, his own phone already in hand, probably ready to call the police on that weird, dangerously thin girl who was stinking up his bar, but did, eventually, give Emily the directions to Sioux Falls. About an hour later, as she struggled on the side of the road, she heard a voice calling her name behind her. She turned around, not recognizing it. Staring at her from a couple yards away from her was a tall, pale man that she was sure wasn’t there before. He was wearing a knitted vest over a brown shirt and pants. Full on grandpa look, even if he didn’t look older than twenty.

“Can I help you?” she asked, ready to attack him. He couldn’t have come out of anywhere. There was no traffic, no buildings and there hadn’t been in over an hour.

“No, but maybe I can help you,” he said, with a very strong Italian accent. Emily immediately took a step back. She was just back from hell and a creep was already trying to get to her. She turned back around and hurried her steps.

“Sorry pal, not interested,” she said.

“Are you not curious to know how you got back?” The man appeared in front of Emily, startling her. She bounced into him and stumbled back. He put a hand on her shoulder and helped her keep her balance.

“How-” she looked back.

“I would have thought you would be happier,” he said, tightening his eyes and scratching his head.

“Who the fuck are you?” asked Emily.

“My name is Ramiel.” Right. Like the Evangelion angel. Very funny. She thought.Emily rolled her eyes.

“And I care why?”

“Because I saved you from hell.” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“Sure thing, buddy.” She tried to overcome the man and kept walking. He stretched his arm, stopping her, so she tried to go the other way. Nothing. “Listen, I have a long way to go. What do you want from me?” Emily asked. As Ramiel smiled, she crossed her arms.

“You were destined to be brought back. God has work for you.” said Ramiel. Emily scoffed.

“Right,” she scoffed. “You can tell God he’s an asshole and I’m not helping him out.” The man rolled his eyes.

“I should have guessed you weren’t a believer.” Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows.

“Not a fan of Jesus, no. So, what are you exactly and why are you folowing me?”

“I am an angel,” he said, and a pair of wings appeared behind him for a moment.

“Of course you are,” said Emily, sarcastic. “Cool trick, but angels aren’t a thing.” Ramiel didn’t answer. He, instead, stared at her with an expression Emily couldn’t decipher. “Can I go now?” she asked.

“Well,” the man sighed. “It's not my problem if you believe me or not. My orders are just to keep you safe. Vieni-” He reached for her and she didn’t have time to react when she found herself in front of Bobby’s house, alone. She looked around, looking for Ramiel, but didn’t see him anywhere. Well, here goes nothing. Emily said to herself. She walked up to the door and knocked. She waited. Then waited some more. A whole minute passed, and no one came to the door. What was she expecting? It had been years, maybe decades. The chances of Bobby still living there after all that time were slim. As she took a step back towards the street, the door creaked open. She turned.

“Emily?” Emily flinched. before she could completely formulate who the voice belonged to, she had already turned. In the doorway, perfectly clean, healthy, and most importantly alive, was Sam.

“Sam?!” she asked. Before she could ask anything, Sam tried to attack her, and she moved to the side, avoiding Sam's punch and tripping down the porch stairs. “Woah, woah, wait!” she said, struggling to keep standing. “I’m not a monster!” Sam tried to attack her again, but she somehow managed to avoid it again. Emily put her hands in front of her. “I can prove it!” Sam took a step back, breath heavy, and tightened his eyes. Dean appeared next to him alarmed. Emily focused on Sam and used telepathy. A monster wouldn’t be able to do this, right? Sam's eyes widened. He unclenched his fist. Dean stood behind him, and tried to attack her as well, but Sam stopped her.

“It's her, Dean,” he said. Dean looked at Sam. He took a step back and crossed his arms.

“Are you sure? I mean-” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah, Dean- It's- It's her,” Sam said. Emily looked at Sam, then at Dean and swallowed all of her questions. How was Sam alive? Did Dean- “It's a long story,” said Sam. He smiled. She’d missed having someone smile at her. He took a step forward and hugged her. After decades- or at least what felt like it, Sam's hug felt like being born again. It was a warmth she hadn't experienced in a long time. Emily walked through the door and took off her jacket. She looked at her wrist. All her scars were still there. But also, her wrist was a purple-ish color, swollen. A painful groan left her lips as she touched it. Sam turned. Was her wrist still broken from when Sam had died? That was impossible. And it was just one wrist, to make it weirder.

“What happened to your wrist?” he asked. Emily looked at him and was about to speak, but noticed Dean was touching his shoulder, where he had a similar mark. It was a handprint. Emily looked at Sam and frowned. She heard Bobby's shoes dragging across the house and he appeared in the doorway, too. His eyes widened.

“You kids are gonna give me a heart attack one of these days,” he said.

Bobby handed her a beer. Emily noticed how Dean was avoiding her gaze. He'd barely looked at her. Emily sat across the room from him, arms crossed on her lap.

“So, uh- my time awareness if pretty fucked, so- What did I miss?” she asked. Bobby handed her a newspaper and Emily read the date. “2009?” She raised an eyebrow. “Wait, a year? That’s…” She looked around. Time obviously didn't work the same in hell and on earth. “Unexpected,” she said. She threw the newspaper back on the table and sipped on her beer. “What happened? How- How are you…” She moved her beer towards Sam, who huffed and looked at Dean. When he didn't speak, Sam opened his mouth to talk. Emily interrupted him. She already knew everything she needed.

“You- You went for that deal, didn't you?” Dean didn't answer. Sam looked at her and crossed his arms.

“How do you-”

“Because he tried it. When I was alive. I was the one that stopped him.” Bobby drew a big breath and stood up. He walked behind Emily's chair. Sam raised his eyebrows, confused. “He didn't tell you?” asked Emily.

“No, he…” Sam trailed off. He looked at Dean as he stood up and poured himself a glass of liquor. “Dean?”

“What did he tell you?” asked Emily. Sam sighed.

“He said- He said Jake stabbed you, too. That you died in the hospital.” Emily scoffed and looked at Bobby. He looked at Dean^[e].

“Dean!” Bobby said. “What the hell?!” Dean turned and sighed.

“What was I supposed to say?” he asked, shurgging. Sam stood up.

“Wait, so- so that's not what happened?!” he asked.

“No!” “Fuck no!” said Bobby and Emily in unison. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Then what…” Sam trailed off again, confused. “What happened?!”

“Tell him,” said Bobby. Dean shook his head. “Dean this is your last chance- tell him or I will! And you don't come out looking good in my version!” Emily swallowed and looked at Sam. As the months before her suicide flashed in her mind, he crossed his arms and cleared his voice. Dean looked at Emily for just a moment before pouring himself more alcohol. It was too late. Sam probably knew enough from telepathy alone.

“How much?” asked Emily. Dean closed his eyes, his knuckles whitening around the glass. “How much do you have left?”

“I- I died back in March. I came back yesterday,” he said.

“How?”

“I- I don't know. There's this guy, Castiel- he- he says he's an angel.” Dean emptied his glass and slammed it on the table. Emily flinched. She felt Bobby’s hold on her chair grow stronger for a moment. At that rae, there wouldn’t be a single thing Sam didn’t know. She had to stop thinking about it. Dean closed his eyes and sighed. “He's the one that brought me back.”

“I- I also met a guy. His name is Ramiel,” said Emily. She looked back at Bobby and Sam, who were standing right behind her. Sam looked confused.

“Back up,” he said. “What- How did you die?” he asked. Emily looked at him.

“Sam, I know you saw it,” she said, pointing at her head. Sam looked at Dean.

“Why did you lie?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “She-” Sam put his hands on his waist. “Dean.”

“I was late, okay?” said Dean. “When I got to the Russians she had already run. And when I got the call it had already been a week.” Dean drank from the bottle. “I was late. I couldn't save her.” Emily looked at Bobby, who shook his head.

“Who- Who the fuck’s the Russians?!” asked Sam.

“Dean-” Emily said. But Dean interrupted her.

“Emily. That's it. That's the story.” said Dean. Emily remained silent. Sam looked at her and scratched the back of his neck. “No need to keep talking about this. I lied, I fucked up. That's it.”

“Right,” Emily whispered. She looked at Sam. He knew.

She walked out the living room and upstairs. She closed the door behind her. She looked at the ceiling, expecting tears to start falling. But they didn't. The pressure behind her eyes was growing stronger, but no release was in sight. Her breath grew shorter and her cheeks went numb. Jesus Christ, she thought to herself. I've been back for less than a day- and everything is already going to shit. Her mind started spiraling down and down into a series of horrible memories, she felt a hand on her shoulder and instinctively shoved it away, trapped in a memory loop. Please don't touch me.

“Emily, it's me.” Leave me alone. “Emily! Look at me!” I don't know where my brother is, stop- “Emily!”

“STOP!” she yelled. Sam took a step back, moving his hands away from her. Emily's eyes finally focused on Sam. “Sorry-” She whispered. “Sorry, I- I thought-”

“It's fine,” Sam whispered. “Can I sit?” He pointed to the floor next to her. Emily closed her eyes and nodded. “Emily, I-”

“It's fine. You don't have to say anything,” she said. “I know.”

“What I saw…” Sam sat next to Emily and sighed. “It was all kinds of horrible. It shouldn't have happened to you.” Emily sighed. “About Dean…”

“Sam, that's… Can we not?” she said. Sam nodded. He slowly wrapped Emily's shoulders with his arm. She leaned into the hug and took a deep breath.

Emily turned the page on the giant, dusty lore book she was reading and tapped her fingers on the cup of coffee. The silence she had enveloped herself in was broken by the knocking on her door. She extended one arm out to open it without looking.

“Hey,” Dean's voice made Emily sit straighter in her chair and turn. He looked away and sighed. “I- I forgot to give you this last night.” Emily took the phone Dean was handing her. “They gave it to me after- Well after the funeral. I kept it charged.”

“Oh,” Emily flipped the phone open. There were a couple of missed calls and dozens of texts from Daniel wondering where she was. Emily frowned, her mind going to Daniel for the first time since coming back. For the first time in longer than she liked to admit to herself. He had to have known what happened to her. She was registered at his address. She stared at the text message for a couple seconds, then Dean spoke again.

“For what it's worth, he…” Dean looked around, uncomfortable. “He was cool. I spoke with him at the funeral.” Emily nodded, but she wasn't really listening. She probably ruined Daniel's life. She was the dead girlfriend. The one that ruins your college records. The one that lands you in therapy for life. “Emily?” Emily looked at Dean and shook her head, getting rid of her thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry-” Emily sighed. “Thanks.” Dean nodded and looked outside the room. He'd stood just outside the doorway, not daring to get through the imaginary line that divided the hallway from Emily's room.

“I- I think we need to talk,” he said. Emily adjusted herself in her chair, unable to bring herself to look at Dean.

“That’s an understatement.” Emily closed the book, which rose a cloud of dust. “Why did you lie to Sam?” Dean sighed. He tapped his fingers on his left thigh. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger.

“I- I didn't want him to know the truth.” One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. “You know, I- I'm sorry. For what happened.” Emily closed her eyes.

“You’re only sorry because Sam's back,” Emily said. “If he stayed dead, nothing would have changed.”

“Actually,” Dean sighed. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. “I- I went to hell. Had, you know… time to think things through.”

“And what did you think?” said Emily, crossing her arms. She couldn’t help but be angry at him.

“That I was wrong. It was never your fault.” One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. Emily didn't answer. She closed her eyes again and flinched, flashes of images from hell resurfacing. “Do you remember?” asked Dean. Emily looked at him and frowned. “Do you remember hell?”

“You mean the one before or after I killed myself?” she asked. Dean looked away. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. Emily sighed and shook her head. “Not clearly,” she said. Emily looked at Dean's hand. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger.

“Okay.” Dean sighed. One, two, three. “Yeah, it's…” he trailed off. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. Emily forced herself to look at Dean into his eyes. After reciprocating her gaze for a second, Dean left the room.

Emily woke up to fight noises. She hastily grabbed her gun from under her pillow and jumped out of bed. In front of her, someone she knew. Someone she knew very well and that she wasn’t expecting to see.

“Daniel?” Her ex-boyfriend stared at her, silent. Emily’s eyes focused. He was dead. He was a ghost. Emily lowered her gun. “Are you-”

“Dead? Yes.” said Daniel. A shot was fired through the house. Emily pointed the gun back at Daniel. “I had a good life, you know?” he said, angry. “But you had to come and screw it up with all your shit.”

“What happened to you?” asked Emily. “Did the Russians do this to you?” Daniel nodded.

“Of course they did,” he said, releasing a small cloud of condensation. “Who else? You escaped, their favorite meat toy, they were desperate to get you back. So desperate that I had to be involved.” Daniel took a step towards her, his hands reaching towards Emily's neck. The door slammed open and with a gunshot, Sam made his entrance as the ghost disappeared.

Emily paced around the panic room, the thought that Daniel had been killed because of her setting in. Dean was leaning on a table. After the tenth time Emily walked in front of him, he grabbed her arm to stop her. Emily flinched and shoved away her arm. A flashback of hell took over her thoughts for a split second. Dean looked away.

“You said you saw him at my funeral, right?” Emily asked. Dean didn't answer and rolled his eyes, turning away. “So when did he-”

“Funeral?” asked Bobby. Dean dragged his hand across his face. “Sweetheart, there was no funeral.” Emily turned towards Dean. Her hand flew across his face faster than she could think or stop herself. Silence fell in the room, tension heaving on Emily's shoulders. Dean's right fist clenched, but his left hand’s fingers tapped on his left thigh. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger.

“You knew,” she said in a hiss. Dean nodded. “Jesus Ch- Why do you keep lying?!”

“I couldn't- The Russians had people in the police, okay? I didn't know they were gonna get to him.” One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. Emily scoffed.

“Yes but why, Dean? Why lie to me?!” Emily crossed her arms. Dean didn't answer. “You're unbelievable.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop fucking apologizing if you're just going to follow it up with another lie.” She turned away from Dean and towards Bobby, who had been going through lore books.

“Are you done?” Bobby asked. “Because I think I got something.” Emily stood next to Sam as Dean walked to the other side of the table. “So, the symbol Sam and I saw: the mark of the Witness.” Emily looked at Sam and swallowed.

“Wait, as in-”

“That’s right.” said Bobby. “As in the rising of the witness.” Dean frowned, confused.

“Care to explain?” he asked. Bobby turned the book towards him.

“Basically, these people didn't die ordinary deaths and they were forced to rise. They're rabid. More than any other ghost,” he explained.

“Okay, but,” said Emily. “That's a spell. Who cast it?” Bobby shook his head. “I mean, we're talking apocalypse here.”

“What?” asked Sam. Emily nodded. “Like- the end of the world?”

“Four horsemen, five dollar gas apocalypse?” asked Dean. Bobby nodded, getting another book out of a pile. Emily crossed her arms.

“That's the one,” answered Bobby. “Someone's trying to jumpstart the freaking Armageddon.”

“Okay, so what do we do now?” asked Sam. Dean tried to speak, but Emily was faster.

“I think there was a spell,” she said. “I read it somewhere. It should put the ghosts back to rest.” She leaned closer to the pile of books Bobby had taken into the panic room and took out one, passing it to Bobby.

“I have to say it, I'm impressed you remember that.” Bobby opened the book on top of the other ones and Emily used her finger to open it around where she'd read the spell.

“I was stuck here with only these books for months back in high school,” she said, flipping through the pages. “I did my fair share of reading.” Emily found the spell and Bobby ran his finger through it.

“This should work,” he said. “I've got everything in the house.”

Once the fight was over, Emily helped clean the place up and flopped back in her bed. When she woke up, she was not in her room anymore, but in the living room, standing next to Dean who seemed as confused as her. Emily looked down at his hand. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. Dean clenched his fist and shook his hand.

“Excellent job with the witnesses.” Emily looked behind her and saw Ramiel, the alleged angel that said he'd brought her back. Next to him, the man who had just spoken. He also had black hair, and he was wearing a trenchcoat above a white shirt with a blue tie.

“Ciao, Emily,” said Ramiel. “I second what Castiel said: good job, tesoro.” Emily crossed her arms.

“What did you just call me?” said Emily, putting her hands on her waist. “I thought angels were supposed to be guardians, not creeps.”

“We're supposed to be warriors,” answered Castiel, cold. Dean scoffed.

“Then why are you staring at us instead of helping?” asked Emily. “Would be nice if you and big daddy up there helped us out once in a while.”

“As I said already, my job is not to make you believe.” Ramiel took a step forward. “But, if you really need to know, God is busy with something much bigger than your ego.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Like what?!” asked Dean. “Come on, Al Pacino, humor me.”

“The rise of witnesses was one of 66 seals that, if opened, will bring the apocalypse on earth.” Dean crossed his arms, and Emily followed his left hand with her eyes as it landed on his elbow. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger.

“We knew that,” said Dean. “But who's doing that?”

“Lilith,” answered Castiel. “She's trying to raise Lucifer.”

“Lucifer?” asked Dean, raising his eyebrows. “The devil, Lucifer? With horns and goat feet?”

“Well, not in that form, but yes. That Lucifer.”

Seventeen

From Heathers - The Musical

Emily’s journal

I can’t sleep. I keep waking up in a panic, screaming and crying. I don’t have a clue of what I’m actually dreaming, it all goes away in a few seconds.

I haven’t closed eyes since I turned topside two weeks ago.

I know Dean is also awake, I can hear him, but I really don’t want to talk to him. Or see him, for the matter.

Not after what he’s done before I died.

I met Castiel again, he said that Sam is taking a “dangerous” turn with his powers, whatever that means. Dean told me to mind my own business and not to talk to Sam about this, but I am starting to think maybe I should.

I had another nightmare.

I’ll just walk it off.

Emily walked down the motel stairs. Maybe a walk could have calmed her down. She couldn’t sleep. The nightmares were keeping her awake, doing everything in their power to ruin her night. She could hear Dean toss and turn in the bed next to hers, but there was nothing she wanted to do less than interact with him. She couldn’t stop thinking of what Castiel had said: that Sam was taking a dangerous turn with his powers. Dean had been adamant not to tell him, that it was all a way to get him and Emily to work for them, that it wasn’t real. But that wasn’t the first time someone had questioned their powers’ nature. Staring at the ceiling was boring and the constant sound of the ceiling fan was deafening. She sat up on the bed and looked to her left. Sam wasn’t there. He was probably gone to get some drinks or just on a walk. Weird, in the middle of the night, but at that point everything could have been. Emily wore her jacket and opened the door, just to walk into Sam.

“Sorry,” she said, walking around him. “Here you are, where-” Sam turned and swallowed. His thoughts were racing so fast Emily couldn't really pick out what he was thinking. But one thing she was sure: she'd caught him doing something he didn't want her to know about. “What are you doing?”

“I- I was just taking a walk,” he said, looking behind him. Emily followed Sam's eyes and noticed a car running idle just outside the lot. Someone was at the wheel.

“Do you already have company?” asked Emily, pointing at the car. Sam shook his head.

“No, I-” He reached in his pocket and took out his phone. He looked at it for a few seconds, then grabbed Emily's arm. He dragged her towards the car.

“Sam, what the hell is going on?!” asked Emily. He gestured at her to stay quiet. Sam pushed Emily in the back of the car and sat in the passenger’s seat. “Sam!” The driver was a woman Emily didn’t recall seeing before. She started driving with a sigh. “Care to introduce me to your new girlfriend?” asked Emily. Sam turned and huffed.

“She’s not-” Sam groaned. “Emily, it’s Ruby.” Emily blinked twice and opened her mouth to speak. “Spare me,” he said. Emily scoffed. “I’m serious. I’ll show you, but-” Sam looked at Ruby and smiled. “We’re saving people.”

“What-” She closed her eyes. “Why exactly did I have to be here for it?” Sam looked at Ruby again.

“I think you can help,” she said. “Word is, your powers are strong.”

“Yeah, and word is you’re a demon,” said Emily, scowling at Sam. He rolled his eyes. Ruby chuckled. “Something funny?”

“Yeah, you call me that all you want, but I can smell the demon blood from here.” She smirked as she parked her car in front of an abandoned warehouse. As she and Sam left the car, Emily grabbed her phone and texted Dean. “GPS on, Ruby is here.” Fuck whatever that was. Maybe Castiel was right. She put her phone back in her pocket and prayed to every single entity she knew he would read it. Inside the warehouse were two men tied to chairs. Emily looked at Sam.

“I'm sorry, what is going on again?” Sam looked at Ruby and she gave him a look. The look meant something, but Emily wasn't sure what. Sam dragged Emily outside the warehouse.

“Okay, so,” he said. “you know how when people get possessed, they die because they get stabbed, shot and such?”

“So, those are demons?” Emily nodded towards the chairs.

“They’re not- they’re possessed, the people are still inside,” Emily frowned. Okay, good point, but he still hadn’t told her what was going on.

“And you can do what with your powers?” Sam gestured at her to follow him and walked back inside the warehouse.

“Ready?” he said with a smile. “I’m sure you’re going to love this.” Emily frowned, but he nodded and turned towards the demons. Emily quickly checked her phone: Dean had answered her with a single “k”. Emily looked behind her, hoping to see the Impala rolling in. She crossed her arms and looked at Sam, who seemed to focus on something. He closed his eyes and raised his hand towards the demons in the chair. The demon on the right started retching, like he was about to vomit. But all that came out of him was black smoke. Emily frowned. Sam turned towards her, smiling. She realized she'd probably never seen him smile that big before. Ever. “So?” he asked.

“Sam, what- what just happened?” Sam pointed towards the man on the chair, who was starting to wake up. “Is that-”

“I can save them all, Emily!” he said. “I- This changes everything!” He was really happy about that. Emily could tell, he thought he’d found a way to change their entire job. But she wasn’t so sure it was a good thing.

“Sam, you…” Emily looked at Ruby. The demon rolled her eyes and raised her hands, walking away towards the man Sam had just saved.

“You don't have to worry about her,” said Sam.

“Are you sure? Because she's a demon, and from what I was taught, we don't work with demons. We kill them!” she said. Sam huffed.

“Don't you get it? She's helping me! She's helping us!” said Sam. “If I practice enough, I can kill Lilith!” Emily scoffed.

“Did she tell you that?” she asked. Sam shook his head.

“I was really hoping you'd be on board,” he said. “You know, you- your powers, they're strong. You'd be good at this.” Emily looked behind her. She saw a pair of tail lights approaching.

“Sam, Castiel and Ramiel warned us about these powers. A demon gave us these powers! Do- Do I need to spell it out for you?!” Sam looked at her and put his hands on his waist. “Dude! She’s using you!”

“She’s not,” Sam sighed. “If you just-”

“Why? Because she tells you you’re a good boy every time you save someone?” asked Emily. Sam scoffed.

“Why can’t you focus on the fact I’m saving people?” He asked. Ruby came out of the warehouse. Emily turned. The taillights had disappeared.

“Sam,” called the demon. “I think someone’s here. We should bail.”

Emily was on edge until she opened the motel door. She knew Dean had seen them. And she knew they were due for a fight as soon as they were all back at the motel. Sam opened the door and Dean was waiting for them sitting on the bed, his bag already packed next to him. How did he get there before them? Sam ignored him and walked inside. Emily frowned. He didn’t seem much surprised to see Dean awake.

Dude. Telepathy. said Sam’s voice in her head. She frowned. You’ve been overthinking about this for the past fifteen minutes.

Mind your business!

I wish I could, but you-

“Alright,” said Dean. “Stop whatever psycho shit you’ve got going on and speak!” Emily sighed and leaned on the window next to the door. “Give one reason to not grab my shit and leave right now!”

“Look-” Was all Sam could say before Dean punched him. Emily pushed away from the window and put herself in front of Dean, as much as her entire body was begging her not to and to run the opposite direction.

“Stop!” she said, Dean pushed her away and she hit the wall behind her. She flinched and brought her arms up to protect herself, despite Dean not even looking at her. He punched Sam again. “Stop!” she repeated. She meant to sound strong, but her voice broke. Dean’s knuckles whitened even more and he closed his eyes. He lowered his hand.

“Satisfied?” asked Sam. Dean looked at Emily and sighed.

“Do you even know how far off the reservation you've gone? How far from normal? From human?” Dean asked. Emily dragged a hand through her hair and sighed. Sam looked at Emily and put his hands on his waist. He wasn’t gonna let Dean do anything to her. As long as Sam was there, she was safe.

“I'm just exorcizing demons,” he said.

“With your mind!” Dean yelled. Emily pushed her nails in the palm of her hand and closed her eyes. She felt Dean’s grasp on her arm and he dragged her in the middle of the room. The red lights from hell flashed in front of her eyes. “You better start talking,” said Dean. Emily pushed her nails further into the palm of her hand and stared at the floor, knowing if she lost control her powers would have acted up again. Sam looked at her.

“Dean, she’s not-” he said.

“What else can you do?!” asked Dean, ignoring Sam’s words. Sam sighed and touched Emily’s shoulder. She tried to move away but Dean dragged her back next to Sam. The moment he touched her arms, the light in the room flickered. “Dean-”

“What else can you do?” repeated Dean. Sam crossed his arms and cleared his voice.

“I can send them back to hell,” he said. “It only works with demons, and that's it.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“What about you?” he asked. Emily didn’t answer. She couldn’t bring herself to look anywhere else but the floor in front of her, but she could see Dean’s fingers tapping on his thigh.

One, two, three.

Index finger, middle finger, ring finger.

One, two- Dean’s hands disappeared from Emily’s view and she felt them on her overalls. Dean pushed her to the wall, where she landed with a sob. One of the lightbulbs exploded. Sam flinched.

“Dean-” said Sam, dragging Dean away from Emily. “Dean, she doesn’t know anything!” Dean’s grasp on her overalls lightened. He flicked his tongue and punched Sam again. “What the hell is wrong with you?” asked Sam, keeping Dean at a distance. “She’s the one that ratted me out, why would she-”

“Answer the question,” said Dean. Sam rolled his eyes.

“I told you- that’s it!”

“I don’t believe you.” Dean turned away from both Sam and Emily. “I don’t believe either of you.”

“I’m sorry, I should have said something,” said Sam. “But look at the other side.”

“The other side?” Dean scoffed.

“I’m pulling demons out of innocent people!” Sam said. He looked at the exploded lightbulb and then at Emily. He swallowed.

“Use the knife!” said Dean. Sam didn’t answer. He gave one last look to Emily. “Sam!”

“The knife kills the victim, okay? I can save them, Dean!” Sam explained. “I saved more people in the last five months than we save in a year, this is-”

“I swear to God, if the word ‘good’ leaves you mouth-”

“Why? There’s no way around these powers, Dean! We’ve had them for years now and they’ve never been a problem!”

“Never been a problem?!” asked Dean. “I never liked them! And this is not telepathy we’re talking about! That’s a fucking party trick compared to what you’re doing!” Sam crossed his arms.

“I get it, they come from a demon and it’s- it’s bad, but- but what? I can use them for good, Dean!” Dean looked away, his fists clenching.

“Is that what Ruby tells you? That you’re doing good, so it’s all fine?” he asked. Sam nodded. “I’ve been open minded about the visions, about the telepathy- hell, I even accepted Emily’s weird telekinesis thing, but this-”

“How’s this different?!” asked Sam. “I’m saving people!”

“It’s different because it’s bordering on not being human anymore!” As Dean's words left his mouth, the only sound in the room was Emily’s soft sobs. She held her breath. Please don’t hear me cry, please- Sam turned towards her. She scratched the back of her neck. “No, stop- stop it with the psycho shit!” said Dean. “No more telepathy, no more mind-reading, enough! I’ve been open-minded but clearly, I was wrong!”

“Dean-”

“No, that’s final, okay? Don’t you see it? The more you use these powers the stronger they get! Emily keeps exploding shit, now this? Don’t these powers remind you of something?!” Emily looked at Sam and dried her face. He lifted one corner of his lips. Dean paced away from Sam and then turned.

“Just know,” he said. “If I didn’t know you- I’d want to hunt you.” Dean turned towards Emily. “Both of you.”

Sam sat next to her on the hood of the Impala. She looked at him but didn’t say anything. She took a puff out of her cigarette and stared in front of her.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” Emily said. “Did Dean calm down?”

“Kinda, we- we got a case. He’s getting ready to leave.” Sam sighed and crossed his arms. “Sorry I dragged you into this.”

“It’s fine. You’re not the problem,” Emily said in a whisper, glaring in the direction of their room. Sam’s thoughts seeped into Emily’s thoughts in a confused mess. Questions. So many questions. “Why do we even stay with him? Why don't we… leave?”

“Emily,” said Sam. “Dean doesn't- he's not a bad person. He's just… he doesn't get it, you know? But I'll get through to him.”

“Will you?” Emily asked. Sam didn't answer. “Yeah, didn't think so.”

“Look-” Sam tried to say.

“No! Why do you always try to defend him?!” Emily complained. Sam crossed his arms.

“I'm not-”

“Yes you are!” yelled Emily. “He just punched the shit out of you, he shoved me like nobody’s business, yelled at us and for what?! I didn't even do anything!” She looked at Sam. He had no idea. He didn't know what happened after he died. Maybe she’d kept it hidden in her mind good enough.

“Tell me,” said Sam, once again taking advantage of telepathy. “Tell me what happened.”

“Sam, no,” said Emily. As soon as Sam opened his mouth to talk, she cut him off. “Because I don't want to talk about it! I don't even want to think about it!” The motel door opened and Dean walked out. Sam looked at him, then at Emily, and remained silent until Dean was next to him.

“Tell me,” said Sam. Dean stiffened up. “I want to know. I need to know.”

“No you don't,” said Dean. He looked at Emily, then looked away.

“Why not?” asked Sam. “How much of an asshole do you come off as?” Dean looked at Emily and sighed. “Of course,”

“Sam-” said Dean. Emily clenched her fists. Maybe Sam should have known. He probably would have agreed to leaving if he knew.

“Tell him,” said Emily. Dean's eyes widened. “You should have told him the first time, just-”

“I'm not going to tell him anything, damn it,” Dean said, walking past them.

“Why?!” asked Sam.

“Because it's none of your business!”said Dean. Emily rolled her eyes. “What?! Can you blame me?!”

“Of course I can! If you didn't want to look like an asshole- maybe you shouldn't have acted like one!” she yelled.

“I didn't-”

“Oh yes you did!” said Emily. “You used me as a fucking punchball, just because your favourite brother was fucking dead!” Dean looked at her, his eyes widening in panic. Sam sighed and put his hands on his waist. “You told me I wasn't your sister, that I had no idea what you were going through!”

“Emily-”

“No, you don't get to try and stop me, okay?! You're the reason Bobby had me leave-

“You-”

“You're the reason I worked at the Sky Lounge,”

“I never-”

“You're the fucking reason I killed myself!” Dean looked at her. His eyes turned to the floor. He took a step back. Emily felt regret hitting her a second after those words left her mouth. Maybe it wasn’t true. Sure, he’d made it so the Russians took her, but he didn’t do it on purpose. The Russians were the reason she killed herself. She looked at Sam. He was looking away. Dean took another step back. “Dean-” He raised a hand in front of him and turned around, marching back towards the motel. Emily looked at Sam. He didn't say anything, so she turned too, and left the motel parking lot. Sam didn't follow her.

When she came back, it was because Sam had picked her up in town and basically dragged her into the car.

“Dean was a mess all night,” he said. “I think he's okay now, tho.” Emily took place in the car and put on her seatbelt.

“I didn't care either way.”

“Emily, I spoke with him,” he said. “You- You shouldn't have said what you said,” he said. Emily scoffed. “I mean, he's wrong, he's wrong all the way, but Bobby told you to go to the Roadhouse. It was supposed to be temporary. You turned it into a permanent thing.”

“Wow,” said Emily. “So, he hits me for months and I'm the problem because I wasn't nice enough?”

“I said-”

“Yeah, I heard what you said,” said Emily. “What did he tell you?” she asked. Sam looked away. “That I didn’t even try, right? That I was a bitch, or something like that.”

“He-”

“I tried, Sam. Even when Bobby told me not to, I still went into that fucking room and tried to help him. Every single night.”

“He didn’t-”

“He was an asshole,” said Emily. “And I’m not going to excuse him just because he feels guilty.”

“I know,” said Sam. “But he’s not okay.”

“Well, neither am I,” Emily answered. “but neither of you seem to give a shit about it.” Sam parked in front of the motel and Dean walked out. Emily rolled her eyes.

“I’ll give you guys some space,” said Sam, opening the door.

“What- no! Sam, you-” but Sam was already out the car, and Dean took his place. “What do you want?” Dean didn’t answer. Emily crossed her arms and avoided Dean’s gaze. She stared in front of her.

“Why did you tell him that?” asked Dean a few minutes later.

“Because that’s what really happened,” she answered. “And why did you lie?”

“You told him it was all my fault, but you know-” Dean said, his voice overlapping with hers

“You lied and told me I died on a random hunt. when-”

“-that there were two of us, so-”

“-actually I killed myself because you couldn’t-”

“-you have as much blame as I do-”

“-face that Sam was dead- What the fuck did you just say?!” she said. Dean didn’t answer. “Do you really think I did you wrong?! I-”

“That’s not what I-” Dean tried to defend himself.

“That’s exactly what you said, for Christ’s sake! You-” Emily looked away. “I cared for you while you were too busy getting drunk and trying to kill me!”

“I didn’t need you to play mom with me!” said Dean. “I can take care of myself, okay? I-”

“Can you? Because I had to fucking stop you from getting alcohol poisoning every fucking night, and I always had to pay the consequences of it!”

“That’s exactly what I mean! You didn’t need to do that!”

“What the fuck was I supposed to do then?!” yelled Emily. “What the heck did I not do that you needed so much!”

“I didn’t need a babysitter, I needed a sister, damn it!” Emily looked at him and could feel a hint of disgust in her features, but didn’t care to hide it.

“Well, I’m not your sister,” said Emily. “You made it very clear.” Dean didn’t answer. He looked at her, swallowed, and left the car.

Anybody have a map?

From Dear Evan Hansen

“It just doesn’t make sense, Dean. I mean, why would Uriel tell me you remembered hell if you didn't?” Were the words Emily heard when she arrived back in the motel with dinner. She closed the door and looked at Sam, then at Dean, and she was about to speak, but Dean interrupted her.

“Maybe because he’s a dick,” he said. Emily emptied the bag on the table and rolled her eyes. Dean looked at her and cleared his voice. Sam sat straighter in his chair.

“What?” He asked. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” “Nothing.” said Dean and Emily. Of course, Emily knew that Dean remembered about hell, not because Uriel said it, but because she remembered herself. It wasn't clear memories, but they were there. And they were painful.

“Emily, what- What do you know?” asked Sam, following Emily through the room and to her bed, where she kicked off her shoes and slid out of her overalls. She rolled his eyes and ignored him. “Emily!” Emily turned.

Can we not? I really don’t want to fight with him again.

Oh, come on- What is it?

Emily threw her t-shirt to Sam and walked around the bed in her underwear looking for her backpack. Sam took the t-shirt and sniffed it.

“You need to shower more,” he said. Emily put her hands on her waist. “I’m just saying.” Emily ignored him and took a clean t-shirt out of her backpack. Behind Sam, Dean grinned and took a bite out of his hamburger. Sam threw the dirty t-shirt on Emily’s bed. “Do you remember?” he asked. Emily looked at Dean. She took a deep breath and nodded. “So- So why wouldn’t you?” Dean rolled his eyes and stood up. He walked to the mini-fridge and took out a beer. “Oh my God, you do! Shit, Dean, what is it with all the lies?!”

“Right,” he said, looking back at Sam and Emily. “Because you two are an open book.”

“What have I done now?” asked Emily. Dean took a swing of his beer.

“You didn’t tell the truth either,” he said. Emily frowned. “Or we wouldn’t be here just talking about it.” Sam looked at Emily. She looked at Dean and walked back around the bed.

“What the hell does that mean?” she asked. “I’m not hiding anything!”

“Right.” said Dean. “Of course you’re not, you’re a saint.” Emily took a step towards Dean, but Sam held her back.

“Can you not? Please?” he asked. He gave Dean one of their looks. Emily rolled her eyes and shoved her arm back. “I got us a case.”

“What?” asked Emily, grabbing a hamburger from the table. Dean walked away and started packing.

“Uh…” Sam sighed and took his laptop back. “Up in Concrete, Washington, eyewitness reports of a ghost that's been haunting the showers of a women's health facility.” Dean stumbled and choked on his beer. Emily rolled her eyes and grabbed her backpack.

“Can you two work together?” asked Sam. “I really don’t want to spend the next week trying to keep you from shooting each other.”

“Of course,” said Dean. “I’m an adult.” He looked at Emily. Sam turned too, waiting for her answer.

“Sure,” she said. “Whatever.”

In Washington, Sam went to do research and forced Emily and Dean to drive to the fitness center. He had insisted they split that way so they ‘had a chance to talk’. Or at least, that’s what he had said to Dean while he thought she couldn’t hear.

“So you- uh- you like girls, right?” said Dean as they were slowly walking down the hallway, trying to pick on any EMF. Emily didn’t look at him, pretending to be focused on the EMF meter in front of her. “I remember you saying you slept with one.”

“I- I didn’t, I- I was lying about my age.” said Emily. “Remember? I’m a fucking liar.” Dean cleared his voice and returned to look at his EMF meter.

“Do you want to take the showers?” he asked. “I'll take the changing room.” Emily didn’t answer, but walked past Dean and walked to the showers.

“You got anything?” Dean asked as she walked out of the building putting her backpack on. Emily shook her head. “Me neither. I’m kinda disappointed.”

“Why?” asked Emily, taking out her phone to text Sam.

“I’m gonna be real- I was really hoping to see some naked women.” Emily looked up at Dean as he grinned. She rolled her eyes. Was he trying to be friendly? Really? “Alright-” Dean sighed. “Sam’s waiting for us, so…” He pointed in the direction of the Impala, parked a few feet away. Emily preceded him to the car and waited for him to unlock the doors. After lunch, she walked out of the diner right after Sam.

“I don’t really think anything’s going on here,” he said. “So, unless you have something you’d like to do, I’d hit the road after-” Sam stopped talking, distracted by something happening across the street.

“How the hell was I supposed to get a look at it?” said a man to a police officer. “It grabbed me from behind and threw me into a tree!” Dean looked at Sam and crossed the street, on the pier.

“Yeah, okay, Gus. I understand you got shook up,” said the officer. “Anyone would be. But don't you think it – Don't you think it had to be a bear?”

“I know a damn bear track when I see one! This thing didn't leave bear tracks! Its feet were huge!” the man yelled. The police officer sighed and crossed his arms. “It was Bigfoot, Hal, the Bigfoot!” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“Woah,” she said. “Are we still sure nothing’s going on here?” Sam huffed.

“Bigfoot is not real,” he said. Dean nodded.

“I know, but… A woman falls down the stairs and a ghost helps her up? A bigfoot sighting?” She looked at Sam.

“She’s right Sam,” said Dean. “I mean, this town is either full of crazy or we stepped into something weird.” Sam shrugged and reached the men arguing on the pier.

“Excuse us, FBI,” he said, showing his fake badge. Dean and Emily did the same.

“What?” asked the police officer, turning towards them.

“Yes sir,” answered Dean. “We’re here about the…” He trailed off, looking around. “That.” He pointed to the man.

“About bigfoot?” The police officer raised his eyebrows. “Really?” Emily took a notepad out of her pocket.

“That’s right.” said Sam. “Sir, can you tell my colleague exactly what happened?” He pointed to Emily.

“Yes- Yes of course.” said the man.

Emily was walking back to the motel a few steps in front of Sam and Dean, her feet digging into the dirt as she anticipated the much needed sleep that was ahead of her. The voices of her brothers right behind her, theorizing on the case, stopped. Emily stopped.

“Emily, come see this,” said Sam. Emily put her hands in her pockets and walked back to where they were standing. Sam pointed to a few giant footsteps in the dirt.

“You guys are positive that bigfoot’s a hoax, right?” she asked. Sam and Dean looked at each other.

“Let’s see where they lead,” said Sam. The footprints led to another dirt road which ended at a liquor store. As they walked closer, they realized it had been broken into. Emily put her hand on her gun and followed Sam and Dean inside.

“What the hell?” asked Emily, looking around. She kneeled next to some broken bottles. “Amaretto and Irish Cream?” She frowned. “Is it just me or are those not what you would expect Bigfoot to drink?” Dean huffed. He looked around and took a bottle off the shelf.

“Dude,” said Sam. Emily turned. “He took the whole porno rack.”

“What the hell is going on in this town?” asked Emily. Sam looked around and seemed to think. Dean crossed his arms.

“I got nothing,” he said. “Like… LSD in the town water?”

“I don’t think that’s the case,” said Emily. Sam turned and frowned. “Dean’s only drank beer, so…” Dean rolled his eyes. A kid passed by on her bike and an issue of Busty Asian Beauties fell out of her basket. Dean picked it up and turned it towards Sam and Emily.

“Is that what I think it is?” asked Sam. Dean nodded. The kid on the bike disappeared behind a corner. “Should we check it out?” Dean nodded and walked towards where the kid had disappeared.

Dean knocked on the kid’s door. She opened it.

“Hello?” she said with a smile. Sam smiled and looked at Dean. He turned to Emily. He nodded towards the kid. Emily frowned, confused. He nodded again. Emily scoffed.

“Hey there,” she said. “Are your parents home?”

“Nope,” said the kid. Emily looked at Sam. He smiled and nodded towards the kid, too.

“Okay, uh-” Emily sighed. “We’re looking for a… uhm, very furry, uh-”

“Is he in trouble?” asked the kid, alarmed. Dean looked back at Emily and grinned.

“Oh, no,” she said. “But we… we just want to make sure he’s okay.”

“He’s my teddy bear,” said the kid. “I think he’s sick.”

“Amazing,” said Dean. “‘Cause you know what? My friend here…” He pointed at Emily. “She’s a teddy bear doctor.” Emily forced a smile out of herself.

“Really?!” asked the kid. “Can you take a look at him?”

“So, we got a drunk, depressed teddy bear,” said Emily, walking off the kid’s porch. “I’d say we should hit the lore, but, you know… there isn’t much to look for.”

“While you were in there with the bear, we… we talked to Audrey,” said Sam. “She said she wished for her teddy to come true at the wishing well.”

“You mean… we got a fully working wishing well on our hands?” Emily frowned. Sam shrugged. “I mean… it’s not as absurd as bigfoot being real.” Dean opened the Impala and Emily climbed in the back seat. “Anybody up for some chinese while we’re checking out the wishing well?” she asked. Dean grinned through the rearview mirror.

“Actually, I’d really love a subway sandwich,” he said.

Dean looked back and forth between his Italian footlong and the wishing well where he’d just thrown a coin. Emily and Sam exchanged a look and frowned.

“Dude,” said Emily. “That’s crazy, I want to try-”

“Wait,” Sam stopped her from taking a coin out of her pocket. “When has something like this ever come without a price tag?” He said. Emily rolled her eyes. “Let’s hold off on the wishing until we figure out what’s going on, okay?”

Emily went to sleep and dreamt of herself in a flower field. She looked around, taking the faint scent in, and saw Ramiel staring at her from a distance. She rolled her eyes.

“Of course,” she sighed. “This seemed too peaceful of a dream to come from my brain.” She put her hands on her waist. “What is this, Ramiel?”

“Scusa,” he said. “I just have a message to you and your brothers and this is the easiest way.” Ramiel fixed the top button of his vest and walked towards Emily.

“And was this necessary?” She pointed at the flower field. Ramiel smiled and fixed a strand of her hair. “Dude- keep your hands to yourself, okay?” Ramiel nodded, apologetically taking a step back.

“I’m trying to protect you. Your regular dreams are gory and violent. I thought this would be more appropriate.” Emily run a hand through her hair. The strand Ramiel had fixed fell back down. “After I’m gone, you can stay as long as you want.”

“Oh,” she said, looking around. “Okay, I- Thanks.”

“My job is to keep you safe,” said Ramiel. “I will do anything in my power, amore.”

“Again? Why do you keep calling me these things?” Ramiel smiled, the slightest hint of red flushing his cheeks.

“It’s Italian,” said Ramiel. “It’s the same as calling someone honey.”

“Oh,” Emily looked at Ramiel and crossed her arms. Ramiel fixed his shirt again and cleared his voice. “You said you had a message for me?” asked Emily.

“Yes,” said Ramiel. “More and more seals are being opened. Lilith is closer to bringing Lucifer back everyday.”

“Okay, but…” said Emily. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

“You need to stop it.” Ramiel didn’t bother explaining much more, and he disappeared, leaving her alone in the flower field. This is kinda nice. She thought as she sat on the ground. Nice of him to do this. When she woke up the sun was already up in the sky. Sam was doing research on the other half of the bed. She heard the toilet flush and someone vomit. She sat up. She saw Dean’s reflection in the bathroom mirror, kneeled over the toilet.

“What’s going on with him?” Emily asked. Sam sighed.

“The wishes go bad,” He turned his laptop towards her. “Coin was Babylonian.” He pointed to a picture of the coin. “That, in the middle? Babylonian god of primordial chaos.” Emily nodded.

“So, it’s not wishes, it’s… chaos,” she said. Dean vomited again. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t wish for anything.”

“So, we- we have to find the first wisher,” said Sam. “They’re the only person who can take the coin out of the well.”

“Any leads?” asked Emily. Sam nodded.

“Remember the guy from the chinese restaurant? The one that was all lovey-dovey with a girl way out of his league?” asked Dean, coming out of the bathroom with a towel over his mouth. Emily nodded. “They’re Wesley and Hope, soon to be wed-” Dean’s chest bent forward, as he tried not to vomit again. “We found an engagement announcement on the paper.”

Emily sat next to Sam in the Impala as he started the engine. She kicked off her shoes.

“Dude, it’s just a ten minute drive,” said Sam. Emily shrugged and Sam shook his head.

“How do you want to play this?” she asked. Sam sighed.

“Actually,” said Sam. “I was wondering if you wanted to take the lead on this one.” Emily frowned.

“You want me… to do what exactly?” She asked.

“Look, when Dean’s there we can try and sell the bring-your-daughter-to-work day thing, but you and I… it’s not believable.”

“Alright… So I’m the boss?”

“You’re the boss,” said Sam with a smile.

“Wes, you didn’t tell me that you called the florists for the wedding!” said Hope, letting Sam and Emily into the house. “You’re the best!” With a squeal, the girl kissed Wesley on the head and left.

“Yeah, Wes- you’re the best.” said Emily with a smirk. The man frowned. A visible bulge was forming in his pants. Emily grabbed a pillow from the nearby couch and threw it at him. Wesley took the pillow and looked down at himself and blushed. “I’m gonna be straight, Wesley, we know about the coin.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” said Wesley. “I- I-” Hope entered the room again holding a stack of magazines and folders.

“Okay, now- I have a lot of ideas,” she said. “but, you know, we don't have all the money in the world.” Hope chuckled and looked at Wes. “Wes is between jobs right now. Means more time for me.” Sam smiled and quickly glared at Emily. “You know, I'm thinking a Japanese-y ikebana kind of thing.” His mouth opened for a moment, then it closed.

You don’t know what a ikebana is, don’t you?

Oh, so it’s not a made up word? Emily looked at Sam and smirked.

“I can definitely see it!” She smiled at Hope, her voice rising higher than usual. “But oh my God- tell us how you met!”

What are you doing with your voice? said Sam’s voice in the back of Emily’s head.

Talking the language of Hope, what does it look like?

“Oh, best day of my life!” said Hope. Emily nodded. “It's the funniest thing. We both grew up here, but I never really knew who he was,” she said.

“Wow!” said Emily. “Straight out of a rom-com!” Hope giggled.

This is freaking me out. Emily elbowed Sam in the ribs in an attempt to make him shut up, even if it was all just in their heads.

“I know, right? Anyway, last month I was out shopping and it was…” She sighed, looking over at Wesley. “It was like I saw him for the first time.”

“It must have felt so magical,” said Emily. “You two look like a perfect match!” Hope smiled and latched onto Wesley’s arm. “And you both got such a great taste in clothes!”

Okay, not you’re just quoting Legally Blonde.

“Uh, babe,” said Wesley. “can you- can you get us some coffee?” Hope smiled, nodded and left humming some song Emily couldn’t really pinpoint on the spot.

“Mazel tov, Wes- you got yourself a robot girlfriend.” said Emily, going back to her normal voice. Sam looked at her and frowned. “It must be exhausting.”

“What? N- No, it’s… it’s great!” As he said that, Hope rushed back in the living room and kissed him. The kiss started getting more and more heated, Wes tried to have Hope take a step back, but couldn’t. Emily crossed her arms and cleared her voice. Once. Twice. On the third time, Hope stopped kissing Wesley and looked at her.

“Sorry, you- you know how it is!” she squealed. “Just can’t keep my hands off him!”

“Oh, don’t worry, girl- I get it.” Emily smiled. Sam licked his lips, trying to hide he was laughing at her “girl voice”. Hope giggled and walked back to the kitchen, sending kisses to Wesley. He sent some back, awkwardly fixing the pillow over his lap. Emily shook her head. “What did you do, Wes?”

“Okay, I- I- My grandfather found the coin in north Africa,” he said. “You know, World War II.” Wesley stood up and took a frame off the wall. “And, uh, he brought it back. He, um, he said it was a real wish-granting coin, but that nobody should ever use it.”

“Okay, so… why did you use it?” asked Emily.

“I mean, he- he died and I thought, you know what? Why not give the coin a shot?” answered Wesley.

“Here’s the deal. When someone finds an old magic object and tells you not to use it… you usually listen. Because if you don’t, something bad usually happens.”

“What- what do you want me to do?” Wes asked.

“Wish it back,” said Sam.

“Woah, no- no- Not gonna happen.” Wesley looked towards the kitchen, where the humming of Hope could still be heard. Emily scoffed.

“Wes, you either wish it back, or something terrible will happen to you. And her.” said Emily. Wesley hesitated.

“Just so we’re clear,” said Sam. “We’re the bad thing that happens to you.” Wesley frowned and looked down at Sam’s hands. Emily saw his gun shine in the corner of her eyes.

“I don’t get it,” said Wes, taking place in the back of the Impala. “My wish came true, why does it have to be a bad thing?”

“You’re trying to tell me coked up Elle Woods back there is what you wished for?” Wesley frowned.

“What’s- Elle- what?” Emily rolled her eyes.

“That’s not how love looks, Wes!” said Sam. “The wishes go south, yours included.”

“I mean, I- I wished that she would love me more than anything…” said Wesley. “So…”

“Dude, that is the stupidest wish I heard today,” said Emily. “And my brother wished for a sandwich.”

“Hey, it’s a hell of a lot better than when she didn't know I was alive,” said Wesley.

“Dude, with all the girls out there- desperate for anything that moves, you really had to wish for Hope?” said Emily. “Ever heard of the whole ‘the sea’s full of fish’ thing?”

“Easy for you two to say,” scoffed Wesley. “You are like… poster models! Teenagers could have you hanging off their walls and in their secret diaries surrounded by hearts!” he said. Emily looked at Sam and shook her head. “I’m sure you had it so easy, just because you happen to be handsome!”

“Easy? Please,” said Emily. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t? Have you tried having to wait until you’re thirty two to lose your virginity?” Emily frowned and turned towards Wesley. “No, right?”

“Of course not, I’m-”

“Not a virgin, I bet!”

“Okay, first of all-”

“Hey, hey, stop it-” said Sam. “Look.” He pointed in front of him. As Emily turned back, she saw a kid lift and roll over a car with two other kids in it.

“You still sure Hope is worth it?” asked Emily.

“Jesus, Dean- that was some save.” said Emily, standing back up. He walked towards her and helped her. “Can’t believe I just got beat up by a kid.”

“Where’s Sam?” asked Dean.

“Lucky Chin’s, with Wesley,” she answered. “Made it just in time-” She cracked her back. Dean crossed his arms and looked away.

“You okay?” he asked. Emily nodded. “So you…” Dean cleared his voice. “You remember hell?”

“Dean, we talked about this,” she sighed. “I do, but- not- not everything, it’s… it’s confusing.” Dean nodded. “Why?” She asked. Dean didn’t answer. Not that Emily expected him to, she had come to learn he wasn’t one to talk. About anything. Ever. It was just weird he kept bringing it up. “Is there…” She hesitated. “What’s going on?” Dean cleared his voice and shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said. “I- I was just wondering.” He turned and started walking towards Lucky Chin’s without waiting for her answer.

Lifeboat

From Heathers - The Musical

Everything was a blur. Emily sat in the Impala and tried to put together images of what had just happened. There was a girl. Anna? Yes, Anna. Ruby had said something about the demons wanting her. Dean didn’t want to take the lead. There was a fight, Emily could remember Dean’s face as he accused her of being on Ruby’s side, again. Emily didn’t remember if she really was. She wasn’t. Right? Ruby was one of the bad guys. Or at least, that was what Emily could remember. The more the day flashed in front of her, the more everything else became a blur. She remembered a church. The drawing, no- a picture of a church. Both.

Emily dragged a hand across her hair and sat on the bed. She didn’t remember walking out of the car. Maybe she was bleeding. The church. The church was important. Dean Winchester was saved. Dean Winchester was saved.

“Emily?” Sam’s voice passed by Emily without her noticing. The church. She couldn’t stop thinking of the church.

“Emily!” She looked up at Dean. Dean Winchester was saved. Not in the church. The church. Dean’s fingers tapped on his thigh. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. “I kinda need your expertise here, man.” said Dean. He pointed to his shoulder. Emily looked at him. She could hear him, but somehow, her mind was still stuck in the church.

“Emily, what is it?” asked Sam. Emily stared at Dean and didn’t say a word, just opened her mouth, with nothing coming out. Sam and Dean exchanged a look. The fucking church. What the hell happened in the church? They jumped out the window. There was glass everywhere. But why? Why did they jump out the window?

“Sam, what’s going on?” asked Dean. Sam shook his head.

“I don’t know.” Sam crouched in front of Emily, trying to hide a hiss of pain. “Kid, is everything okay? Are you hurt?” Emily was still looking at Dean. He looked away, his hands occupied with first aid supplies. “Something’s wrong,” Sam whispered.

“What?” asked Dean. Sam looked at Emily and put a hand on her shoulder. “Sam, what?”

“Dean, who- who was that demon?” said Sam. There was a demon in the church. Someone important. Someone big. Emily didn’t recognize his face. Who was it? Who the fuck-

“No one good,” answered Dean. “Look, is she okay?”

“I- I mean, I-” Sam’s eyes ran up and down Emily, scanning for blood.

“Move,” said Dean, walking back to Emily. “You fix yourself up, I’ll check the kid out.” Sam’s lips tightened in a line and he stood back up. The cracking of his knees went to Emily’s head like it was firecrackers. She winced. Dean crouched in Sam’s place. “Come on, kid, hands up,” he said, unlocking the buckles on her overalls. Emily lifted her arms up and Dean took off her shirt. His eyes moved to her shoulder. “See, you’re all good. Just a scratch.” He hinted at a smile before he sat next to her and grabbed the first aid kit. As Dean sewed her shoulder, Emily could feel his fingers tapping on her arm. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. She could see it now. The demon in the church. She could make out the fragments.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” she whispered. Dean’s hands froze. He sighed. Sam didn’t seem to hear her. Emily’s stomach contorted. She could feel the nausea quickly approaching. “I could feel it.”

“Sam?” said Dean, putting down the tools. Sam looked up. “Bucket, quick-” Sam gave Dean the trashcan just in time for the retches. Emily vomited. And then vomited again. Someone was keeping her hair back, but she didn’t know who it was. Once her stomach stopped turning on itself, Emily stood up.

“Kid, are you okay?” asked Dean. Sam helped her stand. “Is- Were you hit in your-”

“No, it’s… it’s not that.” said Emily. She looked at Dean. He couldn’t withstand her glare. “You were there,” she said.

It was day twenty-five thousand. Or at least, that was the last time she’d counted. Emily had stopped counting. It had been almost seventy years. Nobody was coming to rescue her. Nobody was going to save her. She was stuck in hell.

Every day, he showed up. The demons moved at his passage, they made space for him. His name was Alastair, and he only had one question.

“You want this to stop? Join me.”

Emily had thought about giving in. Year after year. But she never found a good enough reason. What she was going through- she didn’t wish it on her worst enemy. The feeling of being taken apart, piece by piece, the pain coming in waves- because everyone in hell everyone made sure you didn’t get used to it - the voices saying ‘nobody is coming to save you Emily’ and ‘they live so much better without you’- she didn’t wish it upon anybody. Anybody but herself.

The voices were right, she deserved to be there.

But somewhere after day twenty five thousand, she heard a familiar voice. Granted, there were always voices. There was always someone screaming, but nobody was around. Not a single other human- or soul- to be seen. But something in the screams was quite familiar.

“What?” said Sam. Dean took a step back and looked away. “Dean, what-” Emily squinted at Dean. He was in hell. But that wasn’t it. That was not why Alastair was important. There was something else. “Emily-”

“I remember now,” said Emily, ignoring Sam. “You- You were there.”

Emily looked everywhere. If she could hear Dean, he was obviously around. And for years, decades, she tried to look. She looked everywhere. But there was nobody in sight. Ever. Not above her, not below her, not around her. It was miles and miles of absolutely nothing but pain. And when Dean stopped screaming, Emily convinced herself she’d just imagined it. You don’t get out of hell. You don’t move to better places. Unless someone saves you. And if someone saved Dean, they were definitely not going to look for her. Not anymore.

“You- you remember? What are you talking about?” asked Sam. Dean swallowed and finally looked at Emily. Neither her nor Dean looked at Sam. “Guys!”

“Emily-” said Dean.

“I- I remember. I remember it all.”

Emily watched as the demons moved to the sides, making space for Alastair. Like every other day.

“You can shove your question up your ass,” she said. Alastair grinned. He rotated one of his torture tools in between his fingers.

“Oh, Emily, that’s not what I am here for,” he said. “Not anymore.” Alastair smirked. “Today, I am here to train my newest recruit.” Dean wasn’t gone. He never left hell. He just switched sides.

“Shit,” said Sam. “Okay, kid?” He put himself between Emily and Dean. “I need you to snap out of it.” Emily stared in front of her. The church. Alastair. Dean. It all made sense. All the times she’d had flashbacks of hell, always when Dean touched her. “Emily, look at me,” said Sam. Emily didn’t look at him. Sam turned towards Dean. “Take a walk,” he said.

“I-”

“I said- take a walk!” repeated Sam. Dean rolled his eyes and disappeared out the door. “He’s gone, okay? You’re fine. You’re okay.”

“I was there. I heard it. Dean Winchester is saved,” she whispered. “That was the last thing I heard before I woke up topside.” Sam sighed.

“Emily, I- I think you’re… uh- in shock or something.”

“I resisted for eighty years just for him to come and fuck it all up,” she said. “He couldn’t even resist a few decades. I went on for a whole fucking century.” Sam’s eyes widened.

“Emily-” Sam looked around. “You need to snap out of it.” When Emily didn't react, Sam grabbed her forearm and dragged her to the bathroom. She didn’t oppose any resistance. Sam dragged her under the shower and opened the tap. He looked at her, waiting for a reaction. It took her a while. The cold permeated her and slowly brought her back to reality. Sam stood in front of her, worry seeping through his eyes and through his mind. Emily’s eyes filled with tears.

“I can’t-” she said. “I can’t-” She sat down in the shower. Sam turned it off. “I- I- I can’t see him. I- I-”

“Hey, hey- it’s fine,” said Sam. Emily released a sob. “I’ll talk with Dean, okay? I’ll-”

“Then what?” Emily snapped, water splashing from her hair. “What happens then?!” Sam sighed. “What the hell am I supposed to do?! I can’t even go back to Portland, I- I’m legally dead!”

“Emily-”

“No, Sam- can’t you see? This is it! This is how it ends! Me and Dean can barely live around each other as it is, what am I supposed to do now?!” Sam sighed.

“Let’s get you through the night first, okay?”

“Sam, it’s- I already know it’s going to be bad, I- I-”

“Let me handle it,” said Sam. He sat next to her in the shower. “Please.”

“I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to live with Dean for the rest of my life.” said Emily. She stood up, careful not to slip on the water. “I need to get out of here.”

“Emily, wait-” Sam slipped on the shower twice before he was able to catch up with Emily. She was already wearing her t-shirt.

“No, I- I’m just gonna go, okay? I can’t be here when he comes back.” Emily grabbed her backpack.

“Why?!” Asked Sam. “Emily, stop- stop!” Emily slowed down in front of the door. “Nothing bad is going to happen, okay? I’ll handle Dean.” Emily sighed and put her hand on the handle. “Come on, Emily-”

“No, no- no,” she said, taking a step away from Sam. “I- I need to be alone.” Sam crossed his arms.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he said. Emily rolled her eyes and walked out the room. She lit a cigarette and turned the corner, where Dean was walking towards her. Great.

“Where are you going?” he asked, confused. Emily walked past him and ignored him. “Emily!” She hurried her steps, but Dean didn’t seem to be following her. When she turned, he was gone.

“What the hell, Sam?” Asked Dean, slamming the motel room behind him. Sam emerged from the bathroom, soaked in water. “Please tell me she knocked you out and ran and you didn’t just let her go!” Sam shook his head and looked away. “Sam!”

“Dean, I tried, okay? She didn’t want to stay. I’ll call her tomorrow before we leave and see if we can give her a lift back to Bobby’s.”

“Sam, she’s a kid!” Sam scoffed. “You know how she is! She’s gonna come back covered in-”

“I know!” said Sam. “You’re the one that made her like that, ” Dean shook his head. “She’s terrified.”

“Of what?” asked Dean. Sam put his hands on his waist.

“Of you, Dean!” he said. Dean didn’t answer. “And now you’re all worried? Probably should have thought about it before- before everything!”

“You weren’t there, you don’t-”

“Oh, please!” said Sam. “You’re an asshole, Dean!” Dean bit the inside of his cheek and turned away from Sam. He tried tapping his fingers on his thigh. Everything was going to be fine if he did. Everything was under control. One, two three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. Ring finger. Ring finger. “So yes, I let her go! Whatever she does to herself can never be worse than what you did to her.” Dean’s vision went red for a moment, his blood boiling like it was fire, and when he focused on the world around him again, Sam was massaging his cheek.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Dean. “So stop.” He walked to his bed and took off his jacket. Sam looked at him through the room, in silence. Dean divided the dirty clothes from the acceptable clothes. “We need to find a laundromat tomorrow. I’m running out of clothes,” he said.

“Seriously?” said Sam with a scoff. “Dude.”

“What do you want me to say, Sam?” asked Dean, throwing his shirt on top of his duffel. “Would you like to pour my heart out to you and cry? Sorry, but I have a dick.” Sam scoffed and walked to his bed. “What, you think I liked it? I hated every second of it.”

“Dean, you agreed to doing it,” said Sam. “Don’t act like you were forced, because you weren’t.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean said. “Stop- stop talking about stuff you can’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” Sam sighed. Dean shook his head.

“No,” Sam looked away, then started packing. Dean rested his hands on his bag for a moment before he finished packing and threw it on the floor. He laid down on the bed and closed his eyes. When Sam’s phone rang, he opened one eye. “What’s going on?”

“None of your business.” said Sam, walking towards the door while wearing his jacket.

“Is it Ruby?” Dean prompted himself up on his elbows. “Is it-”

“I said- none of your business.” Sam grabbed his jacket and walked out the room without Dean having the chance to say anything else.

“It’s me.” said Sam, knocking on the motel door. The lock clicked and he pushed in. Emily was sitting in her bed, holding her gun. “What’s going on?” asked Sam. “You texted me 911.”

“You were right,” she whispered. “I can’t be alone.” Sam closed the door. Emily’s shirt was stained with blood where Dean never finished sawing her back up. Sam sat next to her. He took the gun out of her hands and placed it on the bed side table. Emily looked at him and touched the point where Dean had hit him not ten minutes before. “What the hell happened?”

“It’s nothing,” said Sam. Emily rolled her eyes. “Seriously. I’m fine.”

“Sam-”

“Emily, don’t worry about me.” said Sam. “Tell me what’s going on.” Emily’s breath shook as she pointed at the open bathroom door.

“It’s my powers, I- I-” she said. “They’re out of control, I can't- I can't do this anymore!” Sam stood up and walked to the bathroom. The floor was covered in glass shards from the shower screen. The mirror was cracked and the tiny ceiling window had no glass, either. “E-Everytime I try to go to sleep I have a nightmare and I wake up to something else exploding.” Sam moved some glass with his foot.

“Want me to stay here?” said Sam. Emily nodded. He looked at her arms. “Did you…” He nodded towards her.

“No.” said Emily. “That’s why I called. I- I don’t want to.” Sam closed the bathroom door and walked back to the bed. He sat next to Emily and grabbed the tv remote.

“Does it have cable?” he asked. Emily shrugged. Sam turned on the TV and set it on BroadwayTV. “Chorus Line…” he said. “You like this?”

“Yeah, my- my mom had a vhs when I was a kid. I watched it a bunch when I was sick.” Sam smiled and moved Emily’s t-shirt from her shoulder.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to patch it up,” said Emily. “I can do it tomorrow.”

“Don’t be stupid.” said Sam. “I’ll do it and then I’ll get you dinner,” Emily huffed, but smiled.

“Thanks.”

Emily woke up in the middle of the night. Nothing was exploding. She hadn’t had a single nightmare after Sam arrived. But Sam wasn’t where she had last seen him. Her heart started racing faster and faster. She sat up and took off her covers. She checked the time on the clock that laid on the side table. Three AM. Where the fuck was Sam? Emily looked around the room. Sam’s stuff was still there. The bathroom light was on. Sam was just in the bathroom. It was fine. Emily laid back down. Emily stood up to get water and heard the shower running. Minutes passed, and Sam wouldn't come out of the bathroom. Emily stared at the ceiling, silence surrounding her and the room while she slowly dozed back to sleep. She woke up again. Half past three. What the fuck was Sam doing in the shower so long? Emily slipped out of bed.

“Sam?” she called, walking towards the bathroom. “Sam- are you okay?” The shower was still running, but Emily pushed down the handle and entered.

Sam didn't notice her at first. She stood in the doorway, frowning, her exhausted eyes trying to focus, as she didn't understand what was going on. Sam was kneeling in front of the bathroom. A couple of seconds after opening the door, an acid smell overwhelmed her. Sam was vomiting. The floor was still covered in glass shards from her powers going out of control, shards that Sam had not bothered moving. A little pool of condensation and blood was forming under his knees. Sam used one hand to move his hair out of the way and that was when Emily saw it. Sam wasn't just vomiting. He was making himself sick. Emily turned off the shower, getting Sam's attention. His eyes widened and he put both hands on the toilet bowl. His head hung between his shoulders as his chest shook up and down.

“Fuck,” he whispered, staring at the toilet bowl. “Fuck.”

“Sam-” she said. Sam pushed himself away from the toilet and leaned on the wall behind him.

“Please, Emily- D-Don’t, okay?” He huffed. “I- I don't want to hear it.” Emily crossed her arms. She sniffed, the condensation from the shower making her nose runny.

“Does- Does Dean know?”

“No.” Sam closed his eyes. “And can we please keep it that way? Last thing I need is him trying to… fix me or whatever.” Emily didn't answer. She looked at Sam through the bathroom. She'd known Sam had an eating disorder for a long time, but she had no idea how deep it really went. How far from okay Sam was. A wave of guilt hit her right in the face. She should have known. Sam always knew when she wasn't okay, Sam was always there when- “Oh, please-” he sighed. “You didn't know because I didn't want you to know.”

“I could have helped…” she said. “I- I-”

“Emily… You couldn't have.” Sam shook his head. “You were dead.”

“How long?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“It- it started when Dean died and- and- I mean- then he came back and then you came back, and- I tried to stop, but-” Sam's eyes filled with tears. Emily walked to the toilet and flushed it. Sam dried his face. Emily sat next to him. “I'm sorry, I- I was supposed to help you tonight and instead- instead I'm just giving you more to think about.”

“Don't say that, okay?” she said. “I mean- I thought I was fucked up, but this is… this is worse.” Sam emitted a long sigh. “We're like… a very fucked up version of the miracle girls,” Emily said. Sam huffed.

“Dude-” he said, throwing his head back. “How's this worse than killing yourself?” Emily shrugged.

“The fucked up twins,” she said. “That's a great name for us.” Sam shook his head. He dragged a hand across his hair and released a deep breath.

“It feels good to finally tell someone,” he said, closing his eyes. Emily nodded but remained silent. She and Sam remained on the floor for a little longer. It was almost like Emily's problems were wiped out for a few minutes, just long enough for her to forget about the harsh reality that waited for her just outside that bathroom. Emily stood up. Sam looked at her.

“Get back to bed, I’ll clean up,” she said. Sam stood up and disappeared outside the bathroom. He flopped on the bed. Emily took some toilet paper and used it to try and move the glass to a corner. She tried to shield her hands from the sharp edges, but the toilet paper soon turned red, the glass cutting her palms. In silence, she moved the glass away as best as she could and then sneaked to her bag. She grabbed some gauze and wrapped her hand. Finally, just as she saw the sun starting to peek through the windows, she let herself fall into the bed and closed her eyes.

She didn't manage to sleep much, then someone knocked on her door. She ignored it. When the knock continued, she pushed Sam off his pillow and used it to cover her head. Sam mumbled a complaint and tried to get the pillow back, but his phone started to ring.

“Dean, hey-” he said, standing up from the bed. “What- what are you doing out here? How did you even-” Sam dragged a hand across his face. “No! That's- Dean, that's not a good idea! At all!” Emily let go of the pillow and sat up. “Dean, I am telling you- Can't this wait?” Sam put his free hand on his waist. “I don't know, a couple of days? A week? …what do you mean no?!” Emily rolled her eyes and dragged her hands across her face multiple times. She used the gauze to scratch her neck. “Okay, you know what? I'm coming outside, let's-” The knocking resumed.

“Open the fucking door, Sam!” said Dean's voice.

“Jesus, Dean, give me a fucking second!” Sam closed the call and left the room, slamming the door with an annoyed groan. “Dude, you can't show up like this, okay? She needs time!” Sam's voice faded as he walked away from the door. Around a minute later, when Emily was just about to lay back down, someone opened the door. Dean entered the room, alone.

“Where's Sam?” Emily stood in front of the bed.

“Cuffed to the car,” said Dean, showing Emily the keys in his hand. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don't.” said Emily, grabbing her backpack off the ground. “You punched Sam yesterday and- you cuffed him to your car? I'm not talking to you until you calm the fuck down!” Dean appeared next to her. She grabbed her backpack and moved away. “Get away from me.” Emily walked towards the door, but Dean tried to stop her by grabbing her arm. The lightbulb in the room exploded. “Dean,” she said, closing her eyes. She pushed her finger into the cuts in her palm. Stay focused. She repeated herself. This is real. The pain is real. “Don’t make this any harder.” Emily pushed the door open.

“Me? I'm making this hard?!” Asked Dean. “I come to talk and you don't even look at me!”

“Talk?” Emily scoffed. “You want to talk? You lost your chance at that like… ten horrible things ago! How about you stop punching people? How about you stop lying just to make yourself look better? Then maybe- maybe we’ll talk!” Dean dragged a hand across his face.

“Look, I'm sorry, okay?”

“Oh, okay!” Emily said. “Dean Winchester's sorry- stop the fucking train!” Dean rolled his eyes.

“I didn't have a choice!” he said. Emily scoffed. She looked down and Dean's hands were tapping against his waist. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger.

“Of course you did!” Emily yelled. “Just like I did! You just took the wrong one and now- breaking news- here are the fucking consequences!”

“Can you blame me?” said Dean. “You think I liked it or something?!”

“Oh, Jesus Christ- Can we skip the part where you cry like you're the victim? Where you act like you had no faults, like being an asshole just… happened? You chose to be like that, through and through- even after you died!” Dean didn't answer. He sniffed and dragged a hand across his face. Emily walked out of the motel room, leaving the door open behind her. She walked to the Impala and freed Sam from the cuffs, thinking Dean was going to follow her. But when she turned, he was pacing in the room. Emily frowned as Dean walked back and forth, his fingers obsessively tapping over his thighs an endless loop from his index finger to his ring finger.

“What did you say to him?” asked Sam. Emily shrugged. She walked back in the room.

“Fuck, fuck-” whispered Dean. He saw her walk in and stopped walking. “Why- why do you have to be like that?” he asked.

“Like what?!” Dean looked at her and clenched his fists. He resumed pacing. “Dean, what the fuck are you doing?!” she asked. He shushed her. Emily frowned. Sam appeared behind her.

What's going on? he asked telepathically.

I don't know. she sighed. “Dean-”

“I said SHUT UP!” he yelled. Dean sat on the bed, his legs shaking so much that Emily could see them. “God- you're such a bitch! I just wanted to talk!”

“And I didn't want to listen!” she said.

“Stop yelling at me!” Dean's fists clenched as he covered his face with them.

“You're the one who's yelling!” said Emily. “You're the one that forced me to stay here- you started this!” Dean shook his head.

“No! I didn't- I didn't mean to, I- I just wanted to talk!”

Emily-

“You never just want to talk!” said Emily. “All you want is a new excuse to punch someone!”

“No- not this time, okay? I- I wanted to-”

“I don't care what you wanted to do!” said Emily. “I'm fucking done with you!” Emily looked at Sam and turned to leave again. Dean sniffed.

“Why are you making this so damn hard?!” he asked. Emily’s blood boiled for a moment.

Emily, no-

“AND WHY DID YOU SAY YES TO ALASTAIR?!” she yelled, ignoring Sam's telepathy.

“Don't-” Dean whispered, looking away. His hands were shaking as he grasped the bedsheet.

“I BEGGED YOU, DEAN! I BEGGED YOU EVERY SINGLE DAY!” she screamed, talking towards Dean.

“Please…”

“Emily-” said Sam, trying to drag Emily back. Dean covered his ears with his hands, tears streaming down his face.

“No, you listen to me!” Emily grabbed Dean's hand and moved them away. “You don't get to run from this!” Dean fought for his hands back, but Emily fought him back with ease. “TEN FUCKING YEARS, DEAN! TEN YEARS OF BEGGING- EVERY SINGLE-”

“STOP!” he yelled, trying to get his arms back to cover his ears. “PLEASE!”

“How does it feel like?!” said Emily. “It’s not a good feeling, is it?” She let go of Dean's arms and felt something dragging her away. It was Sam, forcing her out of the room.

“That’s enough!” he said. As soon as Emily was outside the room, he looked back at Dean. “Holy shit, Emily-”

“What?!” said Emily, shoving her arm back. “He-”

“Emily, look at him!” said Sam. Emily rolled her eyes and turned. “What does it look like?” Emily scoffed.

“He's throwing a fucking fit, that's what it looks like!” She said, crossing her arms. Sam remained silent as Dean dried his face and tried to take a deep breath, but his chest shook. He held his breath for a moment, then coughed. He kept repeating something under his breath, over and over, his fingers tapping on his thigh. Emily rolled her eyes.

“What is this, revenge or something? Just because he did it to you, doesn't mean you should do it to him!” said Sam.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Sam shook his head. “I'll go back to Bobby,” she said, walking towards the exit. “I'll steal a car on the way, it's fine.” Emily took three steps before Sam answered.

“Emily, don't be like him,” he said. Emily stopped and closed her eyes. “He's an asshole. You're not.” Emily didn't turn. She sighed and looked back towards the motel room. Emily knew if the roles were reversed, he would have forced her off the bed and dragged her to the car, yelling at her to stop crying. And every single instinct was telling her to do the same. To show him how it felt to be treated like that. But Sam was right. That was something an asshole would do, and she didn't want to be an asshole. Emily put her hands on her waist.

“I can't believe I'm going to do this,” she whispered. “He doesn't deserve it.” Sam looked at her. He didn't say anything. Emily rolled her eyes and walked back in the motel. Dean looked up and turned away from Emily.

“Leave me alone,” said Dean. Emily stopped in the doorway, her blood boiling. Just the sound of his voice was enough to make her mad. She looked back at Sam. He nodded towards Dean. Emily sighed.

“Stand up,” she said, crossing her arms. Dean ignored her. He sniffed and tried to hold his breath. “Okay, you know what?” she said. “I'm so done with you. I said stand up!” she said. Dean ignored her again. Emily rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. He forced him to stand and dragged him to the bathroom. Dean didn't react much. He didn't oppose any resistance. Emily pushed him in the shower and turned the water all the way to cold. She opened the tap, freezing cold water falling on Dean. He looked at Emily and then turned his eyes at the ceiling. He crossed his arms. Sam appeared outside the bathroom.

Sam, I don't think it's working.

Give it a second.

It's already been a second! The water kept showering Dean, his clothes drenched and dripping on the shower floor.

Emily, I have to ask. Emily looked at Sam and scowled. Did you really think this would work?

It worked for me-

Did it though? Emily sighed. Dean had started to shake. In the corner of her eyes, Emily saw him dry his face.

“Stop crying!” she yelled. Dean broke into sobs. “What are you even crying for?! You- You're the one who fucked up!” Sam shook his head and crossed his arms. “Just-”

“Just leave me alone!” Emily clenched her fists, tears of frustration pushing at the corner of her eyes. “Just go!”

“Fine! I tried, okay?!” Emily yelled.

“I don't want you to try!” yelled Dean. Emily closed her eyes, anger overwhelming her. “I don't need you to do whatever you think you're doing!” Emily's hand moved like it wasn't hers, flying across Dean's face. She grabbed his shirt and pushed him to the wall across the shower. Freezing water showered her. She hissed through the stinging pain. “What is wrong with you?!”

“Stop-crying!” she yelled. “I'm trying to help you, okay?!” Dean didn’t answer. “Do you think this is fun for me or something? I don’t even know what I’m doing!”

“You think I did?” asked Dean. Sam appeared in the bathroom and gestured at her to get out. Emily swallowed, looked at Dean one last time before walking out the bathroom. Sam tried to talk but she walked past him.

“Spare me,” she said. As she walked out of the room, she took away her t-shirt. She reached inside the car window and took a shirt out of her backpack.

“Emily-”

“What did you expect, Sam?!” She snapped, turning around. “That we would- I don't know- hug it out or something?!”

“I- I-”

“He might be an asshole, I might be a bitch- but you- you're an idiot! And I'm even more of an idiot for ever listening to you!” Emily looked around for strangers in the parking lot, then slid out of her overalls and wore a dry pair from her backpack. “I don't know how to fix these things!” She yelled. “The only way I was taught is to fucking yell at people and hit them! How am I supposed-”

“Okay, I get it…” Sam sighed. “I’ll- I’ll go adn…” Sam trailed off and walked back into the motel room. Emily sat in the back of the Impala and threw her head back. She took a deep breath. Sam and Dean didn't come out of the motel room for at least fifteen minutes. When they did, Sam walked out first with the car keys in hand, and Dean did later. He sat in the passenger's seat, in front of Emily, and didn't look at her in the rearview mirror like he usually would. Emily sighed and took out a book out of her backpack.

It wasn't that hard. Sam looked at her as he backed out of the parking lot.

Shut up.

Emily sat on the Impala’s hood and lit up a cigarette. Sam walked out of Bobby's house and sat next to her.

“Dean's asleep,” he said. Emily nodded. “Can we talk?”

“I'd really rather not,” she said. “I'm tired. I'm gonna smoke one and then go to sleep.” Emily took a puff out of her cigarette and looked in front of her.

“Okay, just… listen, okay?” said Sam with a sigh.

“Dude- Why did you ask if you weren't going to listen?” she asked. Sam huffed and Emily rolled her eyes.

“Dean didn't know you were going to be in hell,” Sam said. Emily dragged her hand on her face. “Not until he saw you.” Emily took a deep breath and remained silent. She smoked half the cigarette in silence before Sam spoke again. “But regardless…” Emily rolled her eyes. “...you shouldn't have gotten down to his level,” he said. “I know he always treats you like garbage, but he grew up being treated like that. He doesn't know any better. You do.” Emily shook her head.

“I can't believe you're on his side,” she said. “When I finally ran away from him, he came to look for me. He wanted help for a case. That's how I ended up being taken by the Russians. That's how I ended up killing myself.” Emily finished the cigarette and threw it on the floor. “Then when I died, he showed up down there too. And I'm supposed to forgive him? I'm supposed to like- help him through…what? He's the one that did it! I'm the one that should be-”

“I'm not on his side! What he did is wrong! I'm just trying to tell you… this isn't the way to fix it.”

“I'm not even the one who should fix it!” she said. “He is!” Sam crossed his arms.

“You're right. But you should let him do it,” he said. Emily looked at him. “And you're not.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Emily huffed and tried to lit up another cigarette. Sam took away the lighter. “Dude!” She said.

“One is enough,” he said. “Emily, yesterday he wanted to patch you up, this morning- he came in to talk and you just flipped on him.” Emily rolled her eyes. “If you just-”

“What? If I just forgot everything he did?!” She asked. “Sam, I can't do it, okay?”

“You don't have to. Just… maybe he’s really changed.” said Sam. “And if he did, you should let him.” Emily rolled her eyes, shook her head and walked back inside of Bobby's house.

Blood in the water

From Legally Blonde - The Musical

“Emily, we found Alastair,” said Ramiel. “Ma non parla,” he said. Emily frowned, confused. Ramiel smiled. “He won’t talk. He hasn't told us who's killing our kind.” Emily raised her eyebrows and looked at Dean.

“He won’t talk as in… you can’t make him talk,” he said.

“Did you try asking kindly?” said Emily. “He's definitely the type to help, be nice and tell you what you want.” Castiel, annoyed, rolled his eyes.

“We haven’t,” he said. “We need someone who’s qualified.” He pointed to Dean. Emily crossed her arms and turned towards Sam, who was standing behind her. “Someone who knows how to make him talk.” Emily turned back towards Castiel.

“You're kidding, right?” said Emily. Dean's hands started tapping the table next to him. Ramiel and Castiel looked at her and didn't answer. “This has to be a joke.”

“It's not,” said Ramiel. “I'm sorry, amore.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Can you stop being a creep to my sister?” asked Dean. “She's not even old enough to drink and you're… I don't know a thousand years old?”

“Dean!” Emily turned towards him. He rolled his eyes. “Ramiel, what the hell?”

“What do you have to do with this?” asked Castiel. “We're not asking you, we're asking him.” He pointed at Dean. He swallowed and looked up, clenching and opening his hand a couple of times.

“No,” he said. “I'm not doing it.”

“I'm afraid I'm gonna have to insist,” said Castiel. He extended his arm towards Dean and Emily went to stop him, but in a blink, she was somewhere else. A humid cold immediately hit her and she looked around. The walls were covered in pipes and there was a faint sound of water running. Across the room, a door, with a small glass window.

“What the hell?” she asked. “What is this?” She looked at Dean and then turned, but Sam wasn't there. “Where's Sam?” Dean walked towards the door and looked inside.

“Bring her back,” he said. Castiel and Ramiel stood in front of them, silent. “What are you waiting for?” Emily looked inside the door. Alastair was tied to a devil trap.

“We can't,” said Ramiel. “She's classified as high risk, we can't risk her using her powers or coming back to get you out.”

“What part of ‘no’ do you struggle to understand?!” she asked. “And- what the hell does high risk even mean?”

“I don't care, bring her back!” Dean said. “I'm not doing anything if she's here.” Castiel and Ramiel looked at each other.

“Angels are dying,” Castiel said. “Something needs to be done.”

“I know this is a lot to ask,” said Ramiel. “And Emily being here doesn’t make it any easier. But we have to ask it anyway.”

“Ramiel, you don't have to do anything,” said Emily. “What about you think with your brain and not with your boss’ brain?”

“Our superiors have begun to question our sympathies,” said Castiel, glaring at Ramiel. “They feel we’ve begun expressing emotions. Which are doorways to doubt.”

“How’s that a bad thing?” Asked Emily. “If anything, it would make you more fun to be around.”

“Emotions impair judgment,” said Ramiel. “So, we’re being watched. Uriel will come if you fail to follow our orders.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” asked Emily. Dean sighed. He put his hands on his waist. Ramiel looked at Castiel and crossed his arms.

“I'm sure your powers can be useful in there,” he said.

“What?!” said Dean. “No, absolutely not- you're not-” he turned towards Emily, then towards the angels again. “She's not coming in there!”

“There’s no time,” said Castiel. “I don’t want this any more than you do, but we need it. Alastair needs to talk.” He pointed to the door. Dean clenched his fist and looked back at Emily.

“You ask me to open that door and walk through it...” said Dean. “You will not like what walks back out.”

“Dean,” Emily walked next to Dean. “You don't have to do this, we can leave.” Ramiel shook his head.

“No, amore,” he said. “Uriel will come, and so will more angels. I think it’s best if you don’t resist.” Dean looked at Castiel and swallowed.

“Under one condition,” he said. Emily tried to complain, but Dean didn't let her. “She stays out of that room.”

Emily leaned on the door next to Ramiel and lit up a cigarette.

“Want one?” she asked. Ramiel shook his head. Emily put the pack away and stared in front of her. “Why are you doing this, Ramiel?”

“I'm under strict orders,” he said.

“Dean shouldn't have to do this,” she said. “It's not right.”

“He's our best shot right now.” Emily sighed and turned to look at Dean through the window. He was checking all his tools one by one, his fingers tapping on the cart. “Why do you wish to be in there with him so much?” asked Ramiel. Emily shrugged and turned back towards the rest of the room. “I know what you two have been through. Anybody in their right mind would run away from him.”

“Well, let’s just say… I’m under strict orders,” she said. “Sam said I shouldn’t be too hard on him or… I don’t know, whatever,” Emily flicked some ash away from the tip of the cigarette.

“Are you scared?” Asked Ramiel. Emily nodded.

“But, you know… he’s my brother. So maybe, if- if I’m in there, I… I don’t know.” she sighed. Ramiel looked at her and smiled.

“Did you like the flower field I made for you?” he asked. Emily nodded, staring in front of him. The last thing she needed was to lead him on. Not that he was bad looking, she just had the feeling he wasn’t all about the sex, with all that calling her Italian names. They remained silent for the rest of Emily's cigarette, only the sound of Dean’s tools to be heard, but just as Emily finished smoking, Ramiel pushed away from the door.

“Where are you going?” asked Emily.

“I am going to check on Castiel,” he said. “Don't move, okay?” Ramiel took a step away and winked. Emily frowned. As the angel turned the corner, Emily looked back inside the room. Dean was still preparing his tools. Emily felt a shiver go down her spine. Did she really want to go in there? Could she take it? Maybe it wasn't as good as an idea. Dean looked up and made eye contact through the window. He sighed and looked away, his fists clenching and resting on the cart. Emily pushed the door open. Dean’s eyes widened and he walked towards her.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “Don’t-”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” said Emily, closing the door behind her. Dean held it open. Emily sighed.

“Yes, I’m fine. Of course I’m fine,” he said, his eyes turning to the floor. “Now get out.”

“Dean…”

“Dude, what do you want me to tell you? Do you have another solution?” Emily looked behind Dean, at the tools he was just organizing.

“Maybe Cas was right, you know? Maybe I can help,” she said. Dean’s hand clenched around the door frame.

“No,” he said. “No way.” Emily looked around for a moment, trying to summon a set of words that wouldn’t turn that conversation into a fight.

“It’s not a big deal,” she said. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you do it before.” Dean’s fingers tapped on the door.

“Don’t,” he said. “Just… get out.” Emily pushed the door back open. “Emily!”

“You know what? No.” said Emily. “I’m tired of this.”

“Of what?” Asked Dean.

“Being scared,” she said. “We’re not in hell anymore, Dean.” Dean closed his eyes and sighed. “It’s over.”

“I don’t want you here,” Dean said. “Get out.”

“Why?”

”Because…” Dean turned towards Alastair. “He’s going to try and use us against each other,” he said without looking at her. His fingers continued tapping on the door right next to Emily.

“As I said,” said Emily. “We’re not in hell anymore.” Dean clenched his fists and then stretched his hands. He took a deep breath.

“Look, I know Sam wants us to turn all chick-flick on each other, but you don't have to go through this just to make him happy,” he said. Emily scoffed.

“Sam’s not the reason I’m here,” she said. “Seriously, Dean. I’m not asking to do anything. I’ll just be your backup.”

“I don’t need backup,” said Dean.

“Good, so that means I won’t have to interfere, right?”

Dean slapped Alastair awake and took a step back. The demon looked around and grinned as he saw Emily. He started singing and then, as Dean dragged the cart to him, he laughed.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “This is a very serious, very emotional situation for you. I shouldn't laugh, it's just that- I mean, are they serious? They sent you to torture me? And she’s your sidekick?” The demon smirked.

“You got one chance. One,” said Dean. “Tell me who's killing the angels. I want a name.”

“You think I'll see all your scary toys and spill my guts?” asked Alastair. Emily crossed her arms.

“Oh, you'll spill your guts, one way or another.” said Dean. “I just didn't wanna ruin my shoes. Now answer the question.”

“Or what? You'll work me over? But then, maybe you don't want to.” The demon grinned. “You’re too scared.” Dean turned back towards Emily for a moment.

“I'm here, aren't I?” he said.

“Yeah, but she’s here as well...” Alastair nodded towards Emily. “Torturing her… it was your real punishment, wasn’t it?” Dean walked back towards the cart. “And for her…” Alastair smiled, satisfied. “I never had that much fun in my very long life.” Dean clicked his tongue and huffed.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh, Dean. You have not disappointed me so far.” Dean didn’t turn to look at him. “Come on, one of you has to want a little payback for everything I did to you two. For all the pokes and prods. Mh?” Dean looked behind him and then walked to Emily.

“Your powers,” he said. “What can you do?” Emily frowned.

“I- I don’t know, I haven’t used them in a long time, but I can move things.” said Emily. “But it gets tiring.” Dean nodded and sighed. He put his hands on his waist and looked away for a moment. “Dean?”

“Yeah, I- I don’t know. Maybe it’s a bad idea,” he said. He looked somewhere behind Emily for a moment.

“No?” said Alastair. “How about the things I did to your daddy?” Dean’s eyes came back into focus, he looked at Emily.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” said Dean. Emily crossed her arms and looked at Alastair. She clenched her fist and the chains that were keeping him tied down tightened. His groan of pain turned into laughing. “I better not hear you cry about this later,” whispered Dean, walking away. Emily followed him to the center of the room.

“Oh, you’re bringing out the big guns,” said Alastair. “Both of you, with me, down there? That’s the dream team!”

“You can’t stall forever,” Dean took a jar from the cart and popped it open.

“First, came John Winchester,” said the demon. “Made a good name for himself. A hundred years. After each session, I'd make him the same offer I made you. I'd put down my blade if he picked one up.” Dean picked up a tool.

“Just give me the demon’s name,” he said. The demon ignored him.

“But he said nein each and every time,” said Alastair. “Oh, damned if I couldn't break him. Just like the little one.” He nodded towards Emily. “She really pulled out all the stops, just like her daddy.” Emily tightened the chains more.

“I wouldn’t mess with her,” said Dean. “She can be a real bitch.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Alastair. “Demon blood, right? It really fucks people up.” Emily huffed. From the cart, Dean took a bottle that looked like liquor and took a long sip from it. “You know, Dean…” said Alastair. “When you came to hell, I thought I was up against it again.” Emily walked to the cart she looked through the tools, careful not to touch them after Dean had taken almost two hours to sort them. “But daddy's little girl, he broke. He broke in thirty,” said the demon. Dean’s knuckles whitened around the jug of holy water. “You wouldn’t believe how much she believed in you.” Alastair grinned. “For the longest time, she said ‘Dean will come and save me’. Every… single… day…” Dean looked at Emily for a split second before he grabbed a syringe off the cart. He filled it with holy water. Alastair laughed. “You should have seen the look on your faces!”

“What do you say we cut the chit-chat?” asked Dean, walking towards Alastair. “Last chance to tell me who’s killing the angels.” When Alastair only grinned as an answer, Dean dipped the syringe into Alastair’s neck. His veins became visible through his skin, the sizzling sound of holy water coming in contact with the demon being overcast by the screams of pain. Dean turned back towards the cart just as Emily was crossing her arms.

“You don’t have to stay,” he said. Emily shook her head and bit the inside of her cheek.

“I’m fine,” she said. “What do you want me to do?” Dean pushed the holy water towards her and handed her the syringe. She took it, her hand shaking. Dean hesitated for a moment before grabbing a razor blade. “I thought you wanted me to use my powers,” she said. Dean closed his eyes and sighed.

“You wanted to be my backup, right?” he asked. “Than don't fucking stand there, do something.” Emily looked at him, then at Alastair. Her blood rushed faster in her veins, anger spreading in her body. She filled the syringe with holy water and walked closer to Alastair. He was catching his breath, a hint of burning smell coming from him. When he saw Emily approach, he grinned.

“Oh, Dean, the things she does for you,” he said. Emily made the chains tighter around him.

“Jesus Christ, Alastair, you really like the sound of your voice, don't you?” dhe asked. She clenched her fist around the syringe, trying to stop her hand from shaking. “Names. Now.”

“Dean, she's trying so hard.” said the demon. “At least look at her!” Emily turned. Dean had his hands on the cart, his head dangling in between his shoulders. “Dean-” Without turning back towards Alastair, Emily stabbed his throat with the syringe. The demon screamed, smoke releasing from his arms and legs, his veins emitting orange light like they were on fire. She walked back to the cart. Dean put down the razor and took another long sip of liquor. His fingers tapped on the cart. One, two, three. Index finger, middle finger, ring finger. Emily swallowed: she had to keep going. Even if Dean had said he didn't need backup, she was the backup. She couldn't stop. From the cart, she took a knife Ruby had given them. She rolled it through her fingers and walked back to Alastair, who had started singing to mask his pain.

“There's that little pig-poker. I wondered where it went,” said the demon. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to play tough with me,” he said. Emily couldn't resist the temptation of slapping him.

“I’m not your sweetheart,” she said. “I'm the one who's going to make you talk.” Alastair broke into laughter and Emily stabbed him in the arm. The laughs turned into screams. Emily turned the knife on itself. Alastair's flesh started burning, causing the screams to intensify. Emily walked back to Dean. “Dude,” she said, seeing he hadn't moved at all. He looked at her for a brief moment before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“I'm fine,” he said. He clenched his fists, the tapping coming to an abrupt stop. He took the knife from Emily's hand and put it back on the cart where it used to be, taking a moment to straighten it up.

“You know, it was supposed to be your father,” said Alastair. “Then, we tried to convince your sister.” Dean sighed and picked another knife off the cart. “She was supposed to bring it on. But, in the end, it was you.”

“Bring what on?” asked Dean, pouring some holy water on the knife.

“Oh, every night, the same offer, remember?” said Alastair. Dean covered the blade in salt. “And finally you said, ‘Sign me up.’ Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into her...” Emily looked at Alastair and frowned. Something in Alastair’s words sounded familiar. “Look, she’s getting there,” he said, nodding towards Emily. Dean turned towards her.

“Shit,” she said. But before Dean could ask more, Alastair continued talking.

“And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break,” he said. Emily swallowed. That was it. If Alastair was telling the truth, Dean had started the apocalypse. “We had to break the first seal before any others. Only way to get the dominoes to fall, right?” Dean walked away from Alastair and put his hands on the cart. “Topple the one at the front of the line.” Emily took the knife Dean was holding and walked to Alastair.

“Shut up,” she said. She pressed her arm on the demon’s throat.

“You can make me shut up, but you cannot stop what he st-” Emily stabbed the demon in the chest. Alastair screamed as the wound started to heat up and smoke.

“I said shut up,” said Emily. The demon caught his breath. Emily used her powers to have Ruby’s knife fly into her hand. “You worked so hard to bring the apocalypse on, it’s a pity you’re not going to be there to see it,” she said. Alastair smirked.

“Are you sure?” In a blink, he disappeared. Emily didn’t have time to turn around that she felt her body move. She slammed into the wall and fell to the ground. Her vision was blurry after hitting her head, but she could distinguish the shape of Dean held up against the demon’s trap. She tried to stand up twice before she could actually walk towards Dean. She tried to use her powers to move Alastair away from him, but the demon barely moved. He laughed.

“Oh, sweetheart, you might be strong, but you are not that strong,” he said. He grabbed Dean’s shoulder and held him up to punch him. Emily’s body flew back against the wall and fell to the ground again. Ramiel appeared next to Emily and helped her up. She looked around, trying to find the knife. It got knocked out of her hand when Alastair set himself free. The sounds of Dean getting punched intensified. Emily saw the knife across the room and flew it in her hand. Ramiel walked towards Alastair and dragged him off Dean. He held the demon still long enough for Emily to stab him in the chest. The wound lit up in yellow light, but not nearly as much as when she’d used it on other demons. Emily looked at Ramiel. Alastair grinned. “You really thought it’d be that easy?” He said. He pulled the knife out of himself and pushed Ramiel away. “You’re tough, sweetheart, I’ll give you that, but now it’s time to die.” As Alastair said that, Emily felt her body move backwards again, but resisted it just enough to only make her fall. “You can’t stall forever,” said Alastair. Emily’s mind flooded with familiar white noise. Sam was around, and he was looking for them.

“I don’t need to stall,” said Emily. Ramiel managed to stand up. “You’re going back to hell.”

“What are you going to do?” Alastair dragged her standing from her overalls. “You’re not strong enough. Not to really hurt me.” He punched her and then dragged her against the wall. He pushed his arm on her neck. “Guess who’s going back to he-” Alastair choked. The pressure on Emily’s neck ended and she fell to the ground. Behind Alastair was Sam, his hand raised as he had done the night she found out about him and Ruby working together. Emily stood back up.

“Who’s murdering the angels?” asked Sam. Emily massaged her throat and limped towards Ramiel.

“You think I’m gonna tell you?” said Alastair. Sam turned his hand on itself and Alastair screamed. His eyes rolled white.

“Yeah, I do,” said Sam. Emily looked at Ramiel. She pointed at Castiel, who’d also been knocked out during the fight. Ramiel nodded and walked to help the angel, while Emily tried to make her way to Dean. “How are the demons killing angels?” asked Sam.

“I don’t know,” said Alastair, choking. Emily arrived next to Dean. She took his pulse. It was there, but he wasn’t waking up. Emily tried to make him come to his senses, but it didn’t work. Sam, do whatever you have to do. We have to go. Sam’s head turned towards her and he nodded. He closed his hand and Alastair screamed. “I’m waiting.”

“It’s not us, we’re not doing it!” said Alastair. “Lilith is not behind this. She wouldn't kill seven angels. Oh, she'd kill a hundred, a thousand.” Sam opened his hand, releasing the pressure on Alastair. The demon caught his breath for a second. “Oh, go ahead. Send me back, if you can.”

“I'm stronger than that now,” said Sam. “Now I can kill.”

Emily reached the car before Sam, who was carrying Dean, and started the engine. She drove to the hospital begging herself to keep it together just long enough. Apart from the various injuries Alastair had given her, Emily was feeling the game face and adrenaline come down, leaving space for panic and fear. She dropped Sam off in front of the ER and turned the corner. She was supposed to park and follow Sam and Dean into the hospital, instead she stopped at a red light and never drove off. Her hands started shaking so much she could barely keep them closed around the steering wheel. Tears streamed down her face. Dean could barely keep it together in there, of course she was going to explode. She was just lucky she could keep herself out of it until then. As the sobbing shook her body, someone appeared next to her. It was Ramiel.

“You shouldn’t stay here in the middle of the road. It’s not safe,” he said. Emily didn’t turn. She tried to dry her face, but more tears streamed down her cheeks. “Don’t worry, amore, I’ll take care of it.” He touched her forehead with two fingers and the street went silent. Emily looked up and she was back in the flower field.

“Where…” she looked around. “What…”

“Don’t worry. You’re sleeping,” he said. Emily frowned. “I brought you to the hospital. The doctors will think you passed out.”

“Oh.” Emily wrapped herself in her arms and looked around. “Thanks, Ramiel.” Emily sat down in the field and tried to hold her breath to conceal her sobbing. Ramiel sat next to her.

“Talk to me, amore, tell me what's wrong,” he said, wrapping one arm around her shoulder. Emily shook her head and dried her face. “Don't be scared.”

“I- I-” Emily's body was shaken by a sob. “I can't do this, Ramiel-” she said. “I- I- Every time I try to help- somehow I fuck it up!”

“Emily, you didn't do anything wrong…” he said. Emily shook her head.

“I can't- I just can't-” Emily brought her knees to her chest and hid her face in between them. Ramiel’s hand moved up and down Emily's back as she cried. “Why am I even here?! I was a normal kid! I had- I had perfect GPAs and- and- WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE MY LIFE TO BE RUINED?!” Ramiel remained silent. “I can't do this- I'm not a hunter, I- I'm weak!”

“Amore, ” said Ramiel. “Life was unfair to you. In just the last five years you have overcome more obstacles than most people will in a lifetime.” Emily sniffed and dried her face. “But this made you strong.”

“Honestly?” she said, suppressing a sob. “I don't care about being strong, I- I want to have my old, not scary- not ruined life back!”

“I know, amore, I know.” Emily wrapped her arms around her knees and stood there until her breath had gone back to normal. The flower field was completely silent, so silent it felt weird, but the smell was real. And calming. And Ramiel seemed to know exactly what to do to calm her down. Emily closed her eyes. She took a deep breath.

“Ramiel?” she asked. The angel turned towards her. “So, you gave me a nickname.” Ramiel frowned. He adjusted himself on the ground. “Cas has a nickname. What’s your nickname?” she asked. Ramiel looked at her, confused. “Just trying to find an excuse to stay,” she said. “And I don't want to go back to the real world where everything sucks.” She stopped talking and thought of a nickname. “Ram? Rami?” She frowned. “Nah, it sounds like you're from a Bollywood movie. What about… Miel?”

“It's close to Miele,” said Ramiel. “It's Italian for honey.”

“I thought amore for Italian for honey,” Emily said. Ramiel smiled.

“Miele is honey as in the food,” he explained. “And amore is honey as in… a loved one. Like a partner or a kid.” Emily looked away.

“So… Do you like Miele?” she asked.

“I do,” said Ramiel. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

“Yeah.” said Emily. She let go of her legs and stood back up. “Thanks, Miele. You really were my guardian angel tonight.”

Emily woke up in a hospital bed before she could say or do anything else. Ramiel was nowhere to be found. She looked around and saw an IV drip going straight into her arm. In the bed next to hers, Dean. Sam was asleep in a chair in the corner of the room. She sat up.

“Sam,” she called. Her brother opened his eyes, alarmed. He drew a breath of relief when he saw she was awake.

“Hey,” He cleared his voice. “How you feeling?” he asked.

“Not bad,” she said, turning the IV label towards her. “But I guess I am pumped full of meds to make me stop screaming?” He nodded.

“They found you half asleep right in front of the ER,” he said. “When they tried to help you up, you started screaming and attacking people.” Emily sighed. “So yeah, big time you're sedated.”

“That tracks,” she said. “Ramiel brought me here, I was about to lose it at a red light.” Sam nodded. “How's Dean?”

“Blunt force trauma and a lot of medical words I can't pronounce but he'll be fine,” said Sam. Emily sighed. “What happened in there?”

“I- I don't know, it's… it's complicated,” she said. “I… I helped him.” Sam sat straighter in his seat. “With Alastair.”

“Emily…” Sam sighed. “Is this about what I said?” he asked. “You had to know that's not what I meant.” Emily huffed. “If I didn't know any better I would think you were trying to get hurt,” said Sam. There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, thank god you do know me better than that.” said Emily. She crossed her arms, careful not to bump the IV. “Is Dean sleeping or under?” She asked. Sam cleared his voice.

“Sleeping,” he said. “Dude, I got doctors running behind me trying to get me to commit you to the psych ward.” Sam stood up. “And honestly, I am not sure they're wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” Emily rolled her eyes. “I just wanted to help!”

“Dude, you've been having panic attack after panic attack, your arms are like- like- and- and- you went through a whole lot of shit! It's okay if you-”

“Sam!” Emily scoffed. “I don't need to be committed to psych!” Sam shook his head.

“Are you trying to tell me you're fine? Because that's not believable!” he said. “What you did tonight- it's bordering on suicide. And you know it.” Emily opened her mouth, but Sam didn't let her speak. “And don't try to deny it.” Emily shook her head and fell back on the pillow.

“I just wanted to help,” she whispered.

“Are you guys done?” asked Dean with a groan. Emily and Sam turned towards him. “I'm trying to sleep.”

“How you feeling?” asked Sam. “You okay?”

“I kinda feel like a monster truck ran me over, but… I'm alive. I guess.” He turned towards Emily. “What happened to you?”

“Went crazy again,” she said with a shrug. “High on diazepam,” Dean huffed.

“That's not what I was asking,” he said. “How did you get out of there?”

“Oh,” Emily looked at Sam. He looked away. “We… Ramiel…”

“You used your powers, didn't you?” asked Dean. Emily didn't answer. “Dude!”

“I- I-”

“It wasn't her, I did it.” said Sam. “I used my powers to kill him. Alastair is dead.” Dean didn't have time to answer. “She saved your ass, man! If she wasn't there you'd both be dead now!”

“Wh-”

“I know what you think of these powers, but they saved you,” said Sam. “And you should at least-”

“Sam, enough,” said Dean. “I get it.” Sam shook his head. “Can you give us a moment?” asked Dean. “Matter of fact, go home, okay? Sleep it off. You look terrible.”

“Why-”

“Sam.” Dean gave Sam a look. He took his jacket and marched out of the room, upset. Dean didn't speak for a long minute. Emily rolled a strand of hair between her fingers, staring silently in front of her. “Why?” he asked. Emily closed her eyes and drew air in. She didn't know what to answer.

“I- I don't know,” she whispered, staring at the hair. “I- I- I guess I wanted to help you.” Dean sighed. He took a while to answer again.

“Well, thank you,” he whispered. “I don't know what would have happened if you weren't there to back me up.”

“All I did was fuck it up,” said Emily. “I didn't… I couldn't even kill him.” Dean stared in front of him.

“You think he was telling the truth? About the first seal?” he asked. Emily nodded.

“It matches the lore,” she whispered. “I- I don't see why he would lie.” Dean's breath grew heavier. Emily saw his hand tapping on the mattress. “Dean, you didn't know. It's not your fault.” He turned towards her, surprised. “Yeah, Sam told me. You didn't know it was me. And you didn't know it was the first seal. None of this is your fault.”

“Easy for you to say.” Dean shook his head. She turned towards Dean and saw him dry his face. Emily took her IV drip and took it off its hanger. She slipped out of bed and sat on the chair next to Dean's. She hung her IV with his.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I can go back to bed if you want,” said Emily. Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. Emily dozed off a few minutes later, lulled by the rhythmic sound of the heart monitors. She woke up feeling stared at. It was Castiel.

“Jesus, man,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes. “You gotta know better than to watch people sleep.” The angel didn’t answer. “Where’s your Italian boyfriend?”

“Ramiel has been missing,” he said.

“No comeback on the boyfriend thing?” Emily released a huff. “Damn.” Dean’s eyes shot open. He tried to sit straighter, but groaned in pain and fell back into the bed. “Okay, Cassie Ferguson, what happened down there? Is it really that hard to manage a devil’s trap?” said Emily.

“It was not our fault. Uriel was working against us.” said Castiel. Dean slowly sat up.

“No, Cassie, that is also your fault. Uriel is your boss! You're the one who followed him blindly.”

“He was my boss,” said Castiel. “He's dead.” Emily crossed her arms. “I believe Ramiel is responsible for killing him. I went there to do it myself, but it was too late.”

“Is that why he's not here?” asked Emily. Dean brushed his face.

“I don't know,” answered Castiel. Emily rolled her eyes. “I'm sorry, Emily, I do not know what happened to Ramiel. He is not my responsibility, and you aren't either.” said Castiel.

“Jesus, Cassie, relax.” Emily stood up and dragged herself back to her bed. “You know you don't have to be a pain in the ass, right? You could-”

“I was not sent down here to please you,” said Castiel. “I-”

“Okay, shut up-” said Dean. “Both of you.” Emily rolled her eyes and pulled out her IV. Dean shook his head. “Fuck- Cas, what the hell happened?”

“Uriel was working with hell. It was a setup.” said Emily. Castiel remained silent. Dean sighed.

“Cas, is it true?” The angel nodded. “So, did- did I break the first seal?” he asked. “Did I start all this?” Castiel looked away.

“Yes,” he said. Emily stared at her hands as Dean’s breath grew shaky. “When we discovered Lilith's plan for you, we laid siege to hell and we fought our way to get to you before you-”

“Jump-started the apocalypse,” concluded Dean. “But you were too late, why didn't you just leave me there, then?”

“It's not blame that falls on you, Dean, it's fate,” said Castiel.

“Wait, so- you got him topside to stop him from breaking the first seal?” Castiel nodded. “What about me?”

“I don’t know,” answered Castiel. “That was not part of my orders. My orders were to save Dean.”

“Well, whatever your friends want, you’re screwed, Cas,” said Dean. “I can’t do it, it’s too big.” Emily frowned. She tortured a strand of hair between her fingers, staring at the white wall in front of her. In the corner of her eye, she saw Dean's fingers tap on the very edge of the mattress. “I guess I'm not the man either of our dads wanted me to be.” Dean continued. “Find someone else. It's not me.” Castiel looked at Dean in silence. If Emily didn’t know any better and was sure Castiel didn't have any emotions, she would have guessed he was sad. He disappeared with a wing fluttering sound. Dean sniffled. He dragged his hand across his face. Emily didn't dare to move. She was almost sure that by Sam's standards she should have stood up and sat next to Dean, but it didn't feel right. She stared at the wall in front of her and sighed, the hair from the strand she had been rolling between her fingers breaking and falling on her lap. She was almost positive Dean was crying. She could see him dry his face in an attempt to hide it. Acknowledging was just going to make it worse. So, she did nothing.

Someone gets hurt

From Mean Girls - The Musical

Emily opened her eyes, someone screaming on the other side of Bobby's house. She covered her head with her pillow and tried to go back to sleep, ignoring the exact words that were being yelled. But the fighting was getting closer. Emily let go of the pillow. It was Dean. And Bobby.

“Dean, calm down!” yelled Bobby.

“Don't tell me to calm down! They're practically the same person, if he's in it, she's too!”

“You don't know- Dean, stop!” Emily's door opened so hard it almost fell off one of the hinges. Dean entered and dragged Emily out of bed.

“Hey- let me go!” Emily yelled. She tried to set herself free, but Dean's hold was so strong it had already cut the circulation to her arm. “Dude!”

“Shut up,” said Dean, dragging her down the stairs. “Just- you better hope Sam turns out fine-”

“What are you talking about?!” asked Emily. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Dean!” called Bobby. Dean ignored him and dragged Emily down one more flight of stairs, in front of the panic room.

“Dean, what-”

“I said shut up!” Dean opened the panic room and pushed her inside. Before she could try to get out, he closed it. She put all her weight on the door, but it wouldn't budge. Dean turned around and left. When Bobby tried to open the door, Dean pushed him away from it. The fighting resumed, almost inaudible to Emily. She turned around and put her hands on her waist, her eyes filling up with tears. That was it. Dean was out of fucking control.

“What the hell are you doing in here?!” Sam's voice got Emily's attention. “Wh-”

“What the hell's going on?!” asked Emily. “Why are you here?! Why am I?” Sam didn't answer. “What did you do?!” Sam shook his head and paced away from her. “No, Sam- tell me what the hell's going on! Because whatever it is, Dean thinks I had something to do with it!” Sam looked at her and remained silent. “What?”

“Shit-” Sam whispered. “Powers don't work in here.”

“Just- Just tell me!”

“So, you remember what I showed you, with Ruby?” Asked Sam, crossing her arms. Emily nodded. “Well it's… it's not my natural powers. I've been- I've been making them stronger.” Emily frowned.

“Are you… on drugs?” she asked. Sam shook his head. “Okay, so what?”

“It's demon blood.”

“I know where our powers come f-”

“No, Emily- I've been drinking it,” said Sam. Emily’s eyes widened. Surely, she heard it wrong. “I’ve been drinking demon blood.” Emily brushed a hand through her hair.

“And why does Dean think I have something to do with it?” she asked. Sam shook his head. “Jesus Christ, Sam- what is wrong with you? No, actually- what is wrong with both of you?!” Sam crossed his arms. “Lying? Hiding shit? You-”

“Yeah, because you're a saint, right?” said Sam. He looked away, throwing his hands in the hair. Emily scoffed. “Sorry, sorry- look…” Emily crossed her arms. “The blood makes me stronger. I- I can take on Lilith now!” Emily shook her head.

“Is that what this is about?” she asked. “You wanted to be stronger than me? You really couldn't live your life knowing I was better at something?”

“What?” Sam rolled his eyes. “No! This isn't about you, Emily! I'm trying to save the world!”

“By doing drugs?” she asked. ‘You- You do realize Ruby turned you into a junkie, right?”

“It's not-”

“Oh, don't start!” Emily rolled her eyes. “Yes it is like drugs! You drink the blood, you feel stronger. The blood wears off, you want to feel that power again, so you drink more!” Sam looked away. “Am I wrong?”

“No, no- you got it wrong!” Emily tried to speak, but Sam talked over her. “I don't just feel stronger, I am stronger! How do you think I took down Alastair?”

“Oh, you're stronger?” she asked. Her blood felt like it was boiling as she clenched her fist. “Let's test this strength, shall we?!” Emily punched Sam. He fell backwards. “Where is this strength you're talking about?!” asked Emily.

“GO ON! PUNCH ME IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER!” Sam screamed, standing back up. “But once I’m out of here, I will get Lilith and I will kill her. Not you! Me!” Emily punched him again. Sam took a step back but didn't react.

“Dean was right.” said Emily. Sam frowned. “About the powers, about- about us!” Sam crossed his arms. “What you're doing- it's- it's not… human.”

“So you're saying I'm a monster?” asked Sam. Emily looked away.

“I'm saying you chose to become one.”

The following morning, Emily woke up still in the panic room, still cold and still angry. Sam, however, had a completely different mood. He was sitting on his bed, shivering and looking around, scared and confused.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked. “Why do you look like a junkie in withdrawal?” Sam didn't react. “Sorry, stupid question. You probably are in withdrawal.” Again, Sam didn’t seem to hear her. He stood up and walked to the door, trying to open it, his hands shaking visibly. “Sam, come on- What are you doing?” He turned towards her, scared. She raised one her eyebrows. Sam didn’t move or answer. He was terrified. He slowly started walking back towards his bed and laid down, shaking.

“Don’t touch me!” said Sam, lying on his bed. “I said-” Emily dragged her hands across her hair.

“Sam, I'm not touching you.” she said, trying to take a step towards him. Sam tried to hit her. “Sam, it’s me!” She stopped his arm and pushed it back down on the bed. He kept staring in front of him, struggling. Soon, the struggle turned into screaming. Emily slowly backed away. Hallucinations. That's what it was. She walked to the door and tried to get Dean's attention.

“Dean!” she called. “Dean, come down here!” Nothing moved. “DEAN!”

It had been hours. Sam had been screaming nonstop. Emily covered her ears with her hands and let tears stream down her face. Sam couldn't see them anyway, there was no point in hiding. She would have given anything for it to stop. To have a way to help him. How could Dean just stay away? Go on about his day while Sam screamed like that? But then, just how he started, Sam stopped screaming. He caught his breath, looking around. Was it over?

“Sam?” she asked. Sam sat back up and checked himself. He touched his arms, his face.

“I'm losing my mind,” he said. He turned towards Emily. “What do you want?!” he asked.

“Wow, Jesus- Sorry.” Emily rolled her eyes. There was something weird about how Sam was looking at her. He was looking at her her, he was just looking in her direction.

“I tried, I did,” said Sam. Emily sighed. He was still hallucinating. “It didn’t pan out that way.” Emily stood up and Sam followed her with his eyes. “Look- they killed Jessica.”

“Now, this is just fucking great,” said Emily.

“I know, I'm sorry,” said Sam. “I am.”

“Like hell you are,” Emily whispered. “Why did you do this, Sam?” she asked.

“But life doesn’t turn out the way you thought when you were 14 years old,” Sam said. He dried his face. “We were never going to be normal, we were never going to get away.” Emily snapped her fingers in front of Sam. It was like she didn't see her at all, but still, somehow, saw her. He followed her with his eyes, he just… couldn't see her. Emily had no idea who she looked like instead. “Grow up.” Sam sniffled and stood up from his bed just to sit in front of it, right under the fan that brought air in and out of the room. He looked at a water bottle that laid next to a bookshelf. Emily kicked it his way.

“Thank you,” he muttered, exhausted.

“You’re-” Sam’s eyes shot back up at her immediately, once again scared and upset. ”...welcome.” Emily sighed. He was hallucinating again.

“Mom?”

“Definitely not,” Emily pushed herself away from the wall. Sam didn't follow her with his eyes, but kept staring at an indefinite point in front of him.

“Let’s hear it. Go ahead.. You’re disappointed,” he said

“That’s accurate,” Emily knew it was like talking to herself, but answering him felt a little less weird than him just talking to his hallucinations.

“You never thought I’d turn out this way.”

“Also, accurate,” said Emily. “Definitely not where I thought we would have been.”

“I’m a piss-pure excuse for a son.” Sam dried his face. Emily walked around his bed and grabbed a pen off a table.

“Now, that’s something dad would say,” she said. She tapped the pen on her head.

“You’re heart is broken. Am I close?” asked Sam.

“Jesus, Sam- that's a sad conversation to have with your mother.”

“...but, Dean-” said Sam, getting interrupted by someone Emily couldn't hear.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” she said. Sam remained silent for a long time. Emily played with the pen, her eyes lost on the floor in front of her.

“For revenge?” said Sam. Emily didn’t answer.

“What's in me, mom, it's- What if it's stronger than me? Look at me. What if Emily's right?”

“Oh trust me, I am,” said Emily. “This is low, even for me. A new level of fucked up.”

“Even if it kills me,” said Sam. Emily swallowed. She walked all the way back in front of him. Yeah, that was enough.

“Sam.” she said. “Snap out of if- Sam!” Emily shook Sam by his shoulders. He looked at her, startled. On his neck, a vein started changing color, becoming black. Emily let go of Sam. He fell on the ground, twitching. “Sam?” A force dragged her away from where she was standing and slammed her against the wall with brute force. She lost consciousness for a couple of seconds, and when she came back, she flew to another wall, face first. She tried to protect herself with her hands, but felt her wrist crack as she landed on it. The door to the panic room opened and Dean and Bobby rushed to Sam to restrain him to the bed. Emily fell to the floor and massaged her wrist. When she saw Dean was about to close the door again, she rushed and blocked it with her foot.

“Emily-”

“Shut up and listen!” she yelled. “You see that?” She pointed at Sam. “That's what happens if you drink demon blood. Do I look like I did?” Dean looked at Bobby, who nodded. He dragged Emily out of the panic room and sealed the door behind him, Sam's screams getting muffled by the thick metal. In a rush of rage towards Dean, she slapped him across the face using the wrist she’d just broken. She screamed, holding it with her other hand and turning around. Dean massaged his cheek, avoiding her gaze. Then, she walked past him and towards the stairs. Dean grabbed her arm to try and stop her, but Emily shoved it away and used it to punch him. Dean took a step back and looked at her, his fist clenching. “Don't even think about it,” she said. “You deserved that!” Dean touched his jaw and groaned, in pain. “I'm going to go smoke. Leave me alone.” Emily rushed out of Bobby's house. She felt voices behind her, Dean and Bobby arguing, but ignored them and slammed the door behind her. She opened the glove compartment of the first car on the right, where she kept some cigarettes, and lit one up. A couple of seconds later, Dean came out of the house. Bobby followed him, but while Dean walked towards Emily, Bobby didn't. He laid against his door. “What the fuck do you want?” asked Emily.

“Can we talk?” asked Dean. Emily remained silent. She gestured to keep going. Dean sighed. “I- I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have locked you down there.”

“Big time you shouldn't have,” said Emily. She stared at a car a few feet behind Dean.

“Did you know?” he asked.

“No,” said Emily. Dean looked at her and sighed. He looked away. “I'm serious.”

“I know- Just- If he didn't tell you either- it's…”

“It's bad? Yeah.” said Emily. “How did you find out?”

“Remember when- when Cas told us we needed to meet?” answered Dean. “You didn't want to come, you- you had the flu.” Emily nodded.

“Yeah,” she said.

“There was a fight, he- he killed one of the demons and then I turned and he- well he was doing it.” Dean crossed his arms. “Look, I freaked out, okay? I- I thought you were in it too, and- and-”

“And you chose to be an asshole?” said Emily. “I know you like to think all of your actions are justifiable by- I don’t know- what you went through or whatever, but they're not, Dean! So stop trying to make excuses.” Emily dropped the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it. She walked past Dean and towards the house. Bobby looked at her approaching. He stopped her from going inside the house.

“Seriously?” the man said, nodding at something behind her. Emily turned. Dean was slowly sitting on the hood of a car, his chest heaving up and down as he tapped his fingers on the metal right next to his thigh.

“What?” asked Emily, scoffing. Bobby remained silent. “What do you want?”

“Dean's trying, sweetheart,” said Bobby. Emily crossed her arms and looked away from Dean.

“Well, it's too little too late,” said Emily. Bobby sighed. “I'm tired of pretending he didn't do what he did. I don't care if he cries and- and- I- All I can think about is that if that was me,” she pointed at Dean. “He'd have yelled at me to stop, called me a kid and complained I couldn't keep my shit together.”

“Emily-”

“No, Bobby, he- I'm sorry, okay? But I can't.” Emily pushed through Bobby and walked back inside. She locked herself in her room with every intent of sleeping, but couldn't. Her conscience was keeping her awake. Maybe she could have helped. Maybe forgetting everything he'd done was the right thing to do. Later that night, she heard the floor creaking, the shadow of two boots stopping in front of her bed, then walking away. Dean's room’s door opened and closed and the walls creaked as he probably leaned against it. Emily stared at the paper thin wall that divided their rooms. The faint sounds of Dean crying went through the walls. She sighed. When she moved, the floor creaked and the crying stopped.

“Dean,” she called. Nothing. “Are you okay?”

“Go back to sleep,” said Dean's voice through the wall.

“Dean-”

“I said go back to sleep!” he yelled. Emily sighed. She heard the door open and close again and Dean's steps got farther and farther away. She heard faint talking for a few minutes, then someone knocked on her door.

“Bobby, I'm not in the mood to be lectured again!” she said, standing up. As she opened the door, Dean was behind it. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Sam's gone.” he said.

“What?” Emily frowned. Dean crossed his arms.

“All the devil's traps are busted. He- he ran.” answered Dean. Emily followed him downstairs.

“You think he's with Ruby?” asked Emily. Dean didn't answer. He walked in the living room and took Sam's laptop off the table. He handed it to Emily.

“Do your thing.” he said, before leaving the room. Emily stared at the point where Dean had disappeared and sighed. She sat down on the couch and opened the laptop.

“You got something?” Dean asked, walking back in the room, hours later. He was drying his hair with a towel and he was wearing clean clothes.

“Yeah, while you were doing your beauty routine I hacked the police database for stolen cars,” said Emily. “Any idea what Sam would take?” Dean gestured at her to give him the laptop. He scrolled down for a while, then stopped.

“Here,” he said. Emily walked behind him.

“An Escalade with custom rims?” asked Emily. “Are you sure? That’s like going around with a neon sign!” Dean nodded.

“Trust me,” he said. “Grab your stuff, we leave in five.” Emily went downstairs to take her backpack, which she packed with a couple of clean overalls, and then rushed outside the house. Dean was already turning on the engine. “I got Bobby on radio duty, he will call as soon as he picks something up about the Escalade.”

“Okay,” said Emily, kicking away her shoes. Dean glared at her for a moment before driving off. She didn't dare look in his direction and he remained silent. Once Bobby called, directing them to a town a couple of hours away, Dean sighed.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily looked at him and scoffed. “Emily, come on- I'm trying to have a normal conversation.”

“Not interested,” said Emily. Dean shook his head. The car accelerated, leaving a trail of black smoke behind it, and nobody spoke for the rest of the way.

They scanned all the motels around the town until Dean pointed to the one he thought Sam would have been hiding in.

“We go in, kill Ruby, bring back Sam,” he said. “We’ll take care of Ruby first.” Emily nodded. She hid with Dean in the room next to Sam and Ruby's, waiting for him to leave so they could get to the demon. She looked at Sam disappear behind a corner and Dean gestured at her to follow him. She silently loaded her gun, knowing it wasn't any use against a demon. She was gonna have to use her powers. Dean entered the room first. Ruby was packing her bag, ready to leave. She looked up at them, surprised.

“Housekeeping,” said Emily. Ruby took a step forwards, but Emily used her powers to slam her against the wall behind her. Dean took a step towards the demon, holding the knife Ruby herself had given them, when something hit Emily's head. Her vision went double, the pain on the side of her head sharp, and Ruby fell down on the floor. In the few seconds it took Emily to stand backup, Sam had walked past her, throwing away the piece of wood he'd used to hit her, and had gone to separate Ruby and Dean.

“Just take it easy,” Sam said, holding Dean back. Sam didn't look as much in pain as he used to when he was in the panic room. And that could only mean one thing.

“You did it again?! Seriously?!” asked Emily. Dean looked back at her. “What is-”

“Sam, what the hell's going on?!” asked Dean.

“Actually,” said Sam. “I'm glad you guys are here, we need to t-”

“No, there's gonna be no talking! You've had your chance to talk!” said Emily. “She dies. Now!” Just as Emily moved her hand to slam Ruby against the wall again, Sam moved in the way. He barely took a step back. “Really?!”

“Get out of here,” Sam whispered to Ruby. She left the room as he shielded her with his body.

“Sam, can't you see what she's doing?” asked Dean. “What’s going on with you?!”

“It's not what it looks like,” said Sam. “if you guys let me explain-”

“No!” yelled Emily, taking a step towards Sam. “She’s drugging you and then leaving you looking for another hit!” she said. “She’s poisoning you!”

“We’re looking for Lilith, okay? We-” Emily slapped Sam across the face. Dean dragged her away a few steps. Sam massaged his cheek and looked at her, angry.

“You believe her?” asked Emily, pointing at Ruby. Sam didn’t answer. “You believe her, but not me?” Sam sighed. “Can’t you see she’s manipulating you into taking distances from your family? This is manipulation 101, Sam! You know better than-”

“You’re wrong!” said Sam. Emily tried to push past Dean.

“I’m not!” Emily shoved Dean’s hands away. “Sam, we’re trying to help you here, okay? Come back with us so we can talk about it.” she said.

“No, listen-” said Sam. “We’ve got a lead on a demon close to Lilith. If you come with us, we can get to her. This can be all over.” Emily looked at Dean.

“You think this is a real lead?” he asked.

“I’m sure,” said Sam. Dean crossed his arms. He looked back at Emily for just a moment.

“She’s not coming,” said Emily. “We go- us three.” Sam sighed.

“I can’t,” he said. Emily took another step towards him, but Dean held her back. “I need her to help me get to Lilith, I can’t-”

“Alright, you know what?” Dean let go of Emily and turned around. He brushed his face with his hand. “No. You’re not the one who’s going to kill Lilith, okay?” he said.

“Why not?” Sam scoffed. “Because the angels think it’s you?” he said. “Or Emily? Have you seen yourselves lately?” Emily shook her head. “You can’t even stand in the same room, and you’re supposed to save the world? Together?”

“At least I’m not a fucking junkie!” said Emily. Dean turned and scowled. “At least I can still function without being all coked up by my girlfriend!”

“You think I can’t do this?” asked Dean. Sam shook his head.

“You’re not strong enough,” he said. “Look, I’m being practical here-”

“Practical?” said Emily. “You’re being a dick!”

“I’m doing what needs to be done!” Sam answered. Emily was about to talk, but Dean turned around her and gave her a look that said ‘shut the fuck up’, so she rolled her eyes and stopped talking.

“Sam, you’re not gonna do anything. Come back with us.” he said.

“Stop bossing me around, Dean!” said Sam, so nervous his neck seemed to twitch. “Look. My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots, and I trust you because you are my brother.” Emily shook her head. Dean pinched his nose and turned back around to look at Sam. “Now I'm asking you, for once, trust me.”

“No,” said Dean. Sam threw his head back. “No, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I do!” said Sam.

“That makes it worse!” said Emily. Dean turned towards her.

“Emily-”

“No! I didn’t come all this way just to watch him choose Ruby over us!” she yelled. “So-”

“Emily, shut up!” “Stay out of this!” yelled Sam and Dean at the same moment. Emily looked at Dean, then at Sam. She bit the inside of her cheek. Dean put his hands on his waist and looked away.

“You see what I mean now?” she said. “The Sam I know wouldn’t yell at me. The Sam I know wouldn’t choose Ruby over us. So who the fuck are you?” Emily asked, trying to keep the tears that were pushing in the corner of her eyes in their place. Sam looked at Dean.

“Go on. Say it,” he said. “I know what you think I am.” Dean shook his head. He swallowed and glared at Emily for just a moment. “Say it.”

“You know what?” said Dean. “No.” Emily crossed her arms. “But just so you know… you walk out that door? I better not see your face again.”

Someone gets hurt (reprise)

From Mean Girls - The Musical

“Has any of you two been listening to anything I’ve said?” asked Bobby. Emily ignored him. She kept staring at the same chipped piece of wall she'd been staring at for the previous ten minutes. Bobby'd been talking, she hadn't been listening. Sam chose Ruby. He was gone. And if that wasn't enough, the situation between her and Dean had never been more tense before. He locked her in the panic room for no reason and then tried to apologize like it was just nothing at all. Even Bobby was driving her up the wall with all the crap about Dean trying his best and all that other stuff Emily couldn’t hear anymore. She just knew, with Sam gone, things were going to deteriorate even faster, because she only had two things she was sure about: death, and the fact Dean wouldn't live without Sam. He couldn't function. She tested it once and wasn't eager to do it again. So, what to do? Run? Let Dean deal with the impending apocalypse?

“I heard you,” said Dean. Emily stood up, focusing back on the present issue: Sam. “I'm not calling him.”

“We're damn near kickoff for Armageddon, don't you think we got a bigger fish?” said Bobby. Emily shook her head. “Look, I know you're pissed-”

“No, Bobby- we’re- I'm not pissed. I'm angry, I'm- I'm- I don't even think there's a word to describe what I am right now! He chose Ruby! Over us!” she said. Dean looked at her and didn’t say anything.

“I'm not making apologies,” said Bobby. “But he’s your-”

“Don’t even try bringing blood into this mess,” said Dean.

“He’s your brother. And he’s drowning.”

“Bobby,” said Emily, walking to the window. “We gave him a choice. He didn't want us to help him.”

“You know who you sound like?” asked Bobby. Emily shrugged. “Your dad.” Emily rolled her eyes. “When Sam left for Stanford he pulled the same exact coward crap you’re pulling now!” Emily scoffed.

“Bobby, my dad was a lot of things, but a coward?” asked Dean, frowning. Emily dug out her cigarettes and took one out of the box.

“He’d rather push Sam away than reach out to him!” said Bobby. “Are you trying to tell me that's not what you're doing?” Emily opened the window and lit the cigarette up. “You get out of here with that crap!” Emily rolled her eyes, not moving from the window.

“Don't you get it, Bobby?” she said. “Armageddon’s coming. The damned christian Ragnarok. We're not gonna get lung cancer, we're all gonna be dead before then!”

“Emily, throw the damn thing!” yelled Dean. “No one's dying- we're stopping the apocalypse!”

“How?” asked Emily. “Sam is gone. We don't know where Lilith is and based on what Ramiel and Cas told us, she's close to breaking all the seals.”

“Emily, we’re the only ones who can stop this!” said Dean. Emily huffed, hiding her laugh. “What?”

“Dude, you really think we can go against Lilith?” She asked. “Not for nothing but you're drunk, I'm pretty sure I'm one bad thing away from a panic attack and we haven't slept more than two hours a night since we came back from hell, how are we supposed to save the world?” Dean shook his head. “No, seriously!” she said. “Tell me! What's the plan?!”

“So that's just it?!” said Bobby. “You give up?”

“Cry me a river, Robert, I ran out of ideas!” Bobby tried to answer, but Emily went on. “Listen to me, Alastair said demon blood changes people, like- it fucks them up, right?” She took a puff of her cigarette. “You know what that means? That Sam has never been Sam, I've never been me, we- we were born to be fucking monsters, it happened to Sam and it's only a matter of time before it happens to me, too!” she said. “So I'm gonna smoke my cigarette, I'm gonna get fucking drunk and I'm gonna-” As she talked, Dean disappeared. Emily blinked, confused. “What…” Bobby looked at her and crossed her arms. He shook his head. Ramiel appeared exactly where Dean used to stand.

“Cazzo!” he yelled, looking around. Emily frowned. “Where's your brother?”

“He- he just disappeared, what-” Ramiel fixed his shirt and sighed. “Let me guess- Your guys?”

“Oh, Emily, they’re not my guys anymore,” said Ramiel. “I’m on the run.” Emily dragged the cigarette over the window seal and flicked it out the window. Bobby rolled his eyes.

“What the hell's going on, Ramiel?”

“I rebelled, amore. I refused to follow their orders,” said the angel. Emily crossed her arms.

“Do you know where Dean is?” asked Emily. Ramiel looked away and shook his head. Emily raised her eyebrows. “Miele,” she said. Ramiel's eyes softened.

“Sì, sì, you’re right. I do know. But I don’t think it’s wise to go there,” he said.

“Why?”

“Once we get in, they won’t let us out,” he explained. “We’d be stuck with him and Zacharia.”

“So what are we supposed to do?” Emily asked. “I mean, if the angels took Dean there must be a reason- and it's probably a big one.”

“What happened to getting drunk before you inevitably turn into a monster?” asked Bobby, crossing his arms. Emily looked at him and put her hands on her waist.

“What?” she said. “Am I supposed to go out knowing I let both of them die?” Emily frowned and looked at Ramiel. Bobby shook his head. “Why did they take him?” she asked.

“I don't know, amore, I'm sorry.” said the angel. “Nobody tells me anything.”

“What about the- the- angel radio?” she asked. “That girl- Anna- she was able to hear the angels' voices.” Ramiel looked away.

“I'm- I can't hear anything. I'm actually- starting to run out of grace.” Emily frowned.

“That can happen?” she asked.

“If I exhaust myself too much, yes. I've been on the run for weeks now,” said Ramiel. Emily sighed.

“Okay, you know what?” she said. “You should rest. I- I'll think of something.” Ramiel nodded and sat on the couch. “Bobby, can I speak with you?” She pointed towards the door. Bobby followed her out. “What's the plan?”she asked.

“You tell me, Emily, you're the one who was giving a big speech about how it's all lost!” said Bobby.

“Okay, look-” Emily sighed. “I meant what I said- I- I think the demon blood is-”

“Let me stop you right there, sweetheart, the demon blood's not doing anything. To anybody. It gives you powers, sure, but that doesn't make you a monster. It doesn't make you evil. Same for Sam,” said Bobby. Emily crossed her arms and looked away. “You got free will, kid, the important thing is using it right.” Emily dragged her hand through her face, she smirked.

“Who’s doing the big speech now?” she said. Bobby huffed. “Sorry,” she continued. “I- I freaked out. You're right.” She took a deep breath. “Let's go save the world.”

Emily sat next to Ramiel on the couch and opened her laptop. She had to find a way to get to Dean. Or Sam. Or Lilith. Either one of them was fine. Two hours into her research, she looked over at Ramiel, who was sleeping on the other half of the couch. She’d never seen an angel sleep. Was he really sleeping or was he just keeping his eyes closed? Was it just his angel way of copying what humans did? Castiel didn't do it. But then, Ramiel didn't exactly act like other angels. He had an accent, for some reason, no other angel had an accent, and he called her ‘love’ all the time. Could angels have feelings? Maybe. Maybe he just had a huge crush on her and pretending to sleep was his awkward way to flirt.

She knew she should have been attracted to him. He was nice to her, he brought her to the flower field to help her stay calm, he was certainly calmer than any other angel out there. He was kinder than anybody else, actually. He wasn't ugly. Actually, he looked good. But Emily couldn't bring herself to think about him in relationship terms. Sex? Sex would have been fine. But that was it. That was always it for her. All her life. Ramiel woke up a couple more hours later.

“You good?” asked Emily. Ramiel nodded.

“Did you find your brother?” he asked. Emily shook her head.

“No, I- I can't track his phone, it's like he's not on earth or something,” she sighed. “Ramiel, what about Sam?” she asked. The angel shook his head.

“I don't know where Sam is. He's protected from my sight.” he said. Emily frowned. Sam might have been protected, but Emily knew where he was going.

“If I tell you where he is, can you help me get there?” she asked. The angel frowned for a moment before answering.

“Anything,” he said. Emily stood up and walked to Bobby in the kitchen.

“I know how to find Sam,” she said. Bobby looked up from his book. “We need to go to Lilith.” The book closed with a big cloud of dust.

“Okay, sweetheart, I get we're in a last resort situation, but you- you can't go to Lilith. What- what are you going to do?” asked Bobby, confused. Emily sighed.

“I have to hope Sam is also there and he can kill her,” she said. “I'll bring Ramiel for, you know, insurance.”

“No offense, Emily, but I don't think Ramiel is much use against Lilith,” said Bobby. “What if you get there and Sam doesn't?”

“Well, I- I guess I’ll die.”

“Sweetheart-”

“No, Bobby, seriously, what am I supposed to do? Wait it out? Sam's not coming back. Dean's off in angel prison or wherever he is. It's just me. And apparently, I was destined for this or something. So…” Emily shrugged. It was reckless. She knew it. She didn't really have a plan, she was just hoping Sam did. Bobby was right to be worried. He looked at her and shook his head. He sighed and his eyes closed for a moment before he talked again.

“Last time we went to Lilith we used a tracking spell,” he said. “Go get the book.”

Emily stood patiently in a corner of the room, waiting for Bobby to finalize the spell. Ramiel leaned on the wall next to him.

“So, last night on earth, uh?” asked Emily. Ramiel frowned, confused. “You do realize we have around a…” Emily frowned as she did the math in her mind. “zero point zero six percent chance at best of being there with Sam? And in all other cases, we die?”

“I'm aware,” said the angel. “but I trust you will pick the right moment.”

“Why?” asked Emily. Ramiel never answered. He touched her shoulder and in a blink, Emily was in the flower field. “Why are we here?” she asked.

“It's our last night on earth. We might as well spend it in a nice place.” said Ramiel. “We'll go when you're ready. Time won't pass outside, so… take all the time you need.”

“Ramiel, this… this is…” She trailed off. “Thanks.” The angel smiled. Emily wished she'd never had to leave. Ramiel was one of the few people she didn't find hard to be around. Sexual attraction aside, he was quiet, never asked questions and always tried to make her feel better. It was a nice feeling. A feeling she hadn’t really felt in a long time. But in the back of her mind, she knew she had to go. She wanted to find Lilith. She opened her eyes and she was back in the living room. Ramiel pushed away from the wall and walked towards the table where Bobby was preparing the spell.

“I'm ready, Emily,” said the man. Emily walked next to Ramiel. “You good?” Emily nodded. Bobby recited the spell. The pendulum he placed on the table started swinging, his range getting smaller and smaller until it stopped, pointing to where Lilith was.

“That’s...” Bobby trailed off, taking a closer look at the map.

“A random empty road in Kansas?” asked Emily.

“Well, I doubt Lilith is hiding in a roadhouse,” answered Bobby. “The spell should be precise to the street. Let’s take a closer look at that road.” Bobby turned around and took another map from inside a box. He opened it in front of him and Emily and Ramiel walked behind the man to see. “Here.” Bobby pointed to the street. “There’s not much, a convent and a high school.”

“Well, it has to be either one of the other.” Emily walked to her laptop in the other room and brought it back to where the man and Ramiel were waiting. She typed in the name of the convent and started looking for news.

“Got it,” she smiled, proud of herself, after snooping around for a bit, hunched over the now dismantled spell. “In seventy-two the convent was abandoned after a priest killed eight nuns,” she glared at Bobby. “And get this,” she continued, “the priest said a demon named Azazel made him do it.”

“Well, that seems too much of a coincidence to not be the right place,” said Bobby. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows. She grabbed her backpack off the floor.

“You ready?” she asked Ramiel. The angel nodded. Emily looked ay Bobby. She sighed and took a step towards him to hug him. “Just in case I don’t get to do this tomorrow,” she said. “Thank you.” Bobby’s hand patted her on her shoulder and then let her go. She walked back to Ramiel and he touched her forehead. When she opened her eyes, she was at the end of a hallway. Her mind was overwhelmed by Sam’s thoughts; it was a mix of anger and fear. Once she could focus on her surroundings, she saw Dean, trying to kick down a large door. When she saw her, he stopped.

“What-” he started to say. She interrupted him immediately, hurrying towards the door.

“Yeah-yeah, what are you doing here, this is not safe- whatever, move!” Before she could do anything, Dean stopped her. “Dean!”

“Emily, Lilith is the final seal,” he said. “Whatever’s going on in here, you don’t let Sam kill her, you got me? Use all the mojo you need!” Emily nodded and with a hand gesture, she forced the door open with her powers.

“Even you have to admit, I'm- I'm awesome!” said Ruby’s voice. She looked around and saw her on the opposite side of the church, behind a column. If she was there, so was Sam. And so was Lilith. Emily charged in the room, ready to fight Lilith, but soon realized she was too late. Lilith’s body was already lifeless, slumped on the altar, blood dripping out of it and onto the floor. She turned to Ramiel and Dean, a couple of steps behind her. Sam was standing next to Ruby. Emily used her powers to throw the demon against a column.

“Wrong,” she said. Sam turned, surprised. “You’re not awesome, you’re a dead bitch.”

Emily, s- Before Sam’s telepathy could finish, she interrupted him by throwing him to the opposite side of the room, where he fell to the ground. Emily walked towards Ruby, taking the knife out of her sleeve. Ruby chuckled. “You think this is funny?” asked Emily.

“Hilarious,” said the demon. “You, Azazel’s pet project, the one that was supposed to be stronger, the one that was really supposed to kill Lilith,” Ruby huffed. “You’ve been my biggest problem all these months!” she said. “You know he almost quit this?” Emily turned towards Sam, who had almost managed to stand back up. She threw him back on the wall. Ruby smirked. “But you know what, bitch?” Ruby laughed. “I fucking won anyway!” Behind her, Dean helped Sam back up. She stopped talking for a moment and clenched her fist. Why was he helping Sam? She frowned, considering if she should have pinned Dean to the wall, too. Ruby broke into laughter. “You feel that, Emily?” asked the demon. “It’s the demon blood pumping through your veins. Maybe you should listen to it.” Emily turned towards Dean and cracked her fingers. “Come on, you know you want to.” Sam and Dean can wait. She thought to herself. One problem at the time.

“I’m sorry,” said Emily, putting her hands on her waist. “Are you done with the villain monologue? Because I’d like to kill you.” Ruby smiled.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said and looked somewhere behind Emily. “He’s coming.” Emily stabbed Ruby in the chest. The demon tried to scream, but no voice came out.

“I don’t care if I’m too late,” said Emily. She extracted the knife and let the body fall on the floor, lifeless. She turned towards Sam. “Now,” she said. Sam tried to speak, but Emily didn’t let him. “You-” Dean stopped her and took the knife out of her hand. “Let me go!” she complained. Dean forced her to turn towards Lilith’s dead body.

“Not now, Emily!” he said. “We need to go!” The blood had formed a circle and was converging into the middle. She looked for Ramiel, but he was nowhere to be found. When the blood stopped moving, everything stood still for a moment and then the blood lit up in a yellow light. That was it. The apocalypse had started. Lucifer was rising. Dean grabbed her by her overalls and shoved her towards the door. Emily looked at Sam for a moment, then followed Dean. Before she could leave, the light became too bright and she was overwhelmed by white.

Congratulations

From The Hamilton Mixtape

She couldn't see anything, the light shining too bright, and all she could hear was static. That was it: Lucifer was rising and there was nothing she could do about it. The world was going to end, all because she was a minute too late. Everything went quiet. Maybe she was dead.

“Folks, quick word from the flight deck,” said a voice. “We're just passing over Ilchester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore...” Emily opened her eyes. Plane. She was on a plane. Next to her, a stranger. She stood up, and looked around, nervous. Where were Sam and Dean? With a roaring sound, the plane dropped several feet and she fell back on the seat as the lights went out and the oxygen masks fell from over her head. She looked out the window and saw a bright flash of light erupting from a building to the sky. After falling for almost a minute, Emily had pretty much surrendered to the fact whatever had happened to her, however she arrived on that plane, it was all soon over. She was going to die. But then, the plane stabilized and proceeded to emergency land in Baltimore. Sam and Dean were still missing. Nervous, she went through baggage collection and started dialing Dean's number. Off. She tried Sam's. Off.

She kept walking in the crowd, trying to blend in. She had to get out of there before someone noticed she had no ticket or boarding pass. What if Sam and Dean were still in Kansas? What if they were dead? She tried calling again.

Nothing.

Twenty minutes later she was sitting on a fly of stairs behind the airport, trying not to attract any attention.

Sam and Dean could not be dead, right? Whatever pulled her out of that room must have pulled them out, too. She tried calling again, but nobody ever answered.

“They’re okay,” said a familiar Italian accent behind her. Emily turned. Ramiel was covered in blood, his clothes trashed.

“Jesus Christ, Miele, what happened to you?!” she asked, rushing up the stairs.

“They found me,” answered the angel. “But I ran,” said the angel. Emily swallowed.

“So you didn’t pull me out of that room?” she asked.

“No, it wasn’t me,” he touched a wound on his arm that wasn’t healing itself. “Cazzo,” Emily took a closer look at his wound.

“Wait,” she said and opened her backpack and took out the first aid bag. “Let me see that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, amore, I will be fine,” said Ramiel. Emily ignored him and turned the arm towards her. She kept it still between her knees and soaked a piece of her t-shirt with some disinfectant. She felt Ramiel's eyes on her, studying every move, every gesture, as she patched him up as best she could.

“How long would it take for you to recharge?” she asked. Ramiel sighed.

“I'm not sure. I've been running low on grace for months now,” said the angel. “I’m afraid a night of rest is not going to fix this.”

“Why don't you stick with us?” she asked. “We can keep you safe, you know?”

“You don't need to do that for me, amore.” Emily sighed and finished wrapping some gauze around Ramiel's arm.

“Let’s find a way to go back home, come on.” She pointed to the airport. Ramiel started walking down the stairs. Emily walked past him and approached the long, slow, car rental line.

“I can’t believe I ran out of minutes now,” said Dean’s voice, a couple of people behind them.

“We were dumb lucky to land before they grounded all flights,” said Sam. “My phone’s dead.” Emily turned around.

”Wait, I got a lost call from her.” Emily’s phone started ringing. The familiar ringtone alerted both Sam and Dean, who finally saw her. They looked around and moved to Emily’s spot in line, making not one but several old men cuss at them.

“What the hell happened to you?” she asked. Dean looked behind him.

“Later,” he said. “Let’s get out of here first.”

“We’ll stop for gas and food in Cleveland and in Chicago, what do you say?” asked Emily, starting the car. Either Sam nor Dean answered. Ramiel nodded. “I’ll take it as a yes.” She turned on the radio, annoyed. News of hurricanes. Next to her, Dean rolled his eyes and changed stations. More news. On earthquakes. Dean changed stations again. “Just turn it off,” said Emily. Their drives weren't usually chatty. After so many years on the road, they had exhausted every game, every joke, every topic and mostly just hummed to music, read, or talked about the case they would be driving to. So, as they drove back to South Dakota, nobody spoke. Sometimes, someone would try to turn on the radio again, in hopes of finding something that didn’t talk about the world ending, but eventually turned it back off. That was until, while Dean had taken over the driving, Sam spoke.

“Guys, look-” he tried to say. Emily, who was dozing off, woke back up, and Dean turned towards Sam with a sigh.

“Don’t say anything,” he said. Emily frowned. Maybe she didn’t hear it right. “It’s okay.” Nope, heard it right.

“What?!” said Emily, sitting straighter.

“We just gotta keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?” said Dean, looking back at her. Emily scoffed.

“No!” she yelled. “This is not okay, he-”

“Emily, can you not-”

“Absolutely not!” From the backseat, she leaned in between the brothers and looked at Sam. “You fucking jumpstarted the apocalypse because you chose a demon over us!”

“I was trying to do what was right!” said Sam. Emily scoffed again.

“Oh well, then everything’s fine!” she said. “Absolutely- there is no reason to be mad at you, isn’t there?!”

“You think I wanted this?” Sam turned towards her, shutting the book he was reading. “This wasn’t the plan!”

“Jesus Christ, Samuel, we warned you!” she yelled. “I warned you!”

“You think you're better than me or something?” asked Sam. “I'd have loved to see you in my position!”

“What the hell-”

“Hey, hey!” Dean interrupted them. “Enough, okay? I’m too tired to deal with this.” Emily reached in the front seat to turn on the radio. Dean slapped her hand. “Stay in the seat.”

“What am I, five years old?” Emily tried to lean forwards again. This time, Dean used his right hand to push her back.

“I said stay in the seat!”

“What’s wrong with you now?” she scoffed.

“I guess I’m just a little pissed off, you know- the world is about to fucking end.”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?!”

“Okay, listen to me,” said Dean, his knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. “Zacharia knew what was happening. And you know what he did? He let it happen.”

“What?” Emily frowned.

“Where do you think I was?” asked Dean. “Zacharia took me.”

“Okay, so? Sure, the angels didn’t stop it, but they sure didn’t do it, either!” Emily looked at Sam. He looked away and didn’t answer.

“Stop!” said Dean. “Just- stop, okay? It doesn’t matter.”

“Seriously?” Emily raised her eyebrows. “Wow, okay,” she leaned back in the seat. “Talk about double standards,”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Dean asked. Emily shook her head and looked away.

Emily slammed the bathroom door, wet hair falling on her back and soaking her t-shirt. Dean, who was cleaning his gun, glared at her for a moment, then went back to his weapon.

“Where’s Sam?” Asked Emily.

“On a food run,” said Dean, not looking up.

“Oh so we’re just letting him walk around free?” Emily scoffed. Dean shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re not even a little mad at him.” He didn’t answer. Emily rolled her eyes and walked towards Ramiel, who was leaning on a wall, silent. “Is it healing?” she asked. Ramiel rolled up his sleeve and Emily moved the gauze.

“Slowly,” said the angel. “I don’t know how long I can stay here, though.” Emily sighed. The door opened and Sam entered. When he saw Emily, he looked away.

“Hey,” he said. He took something out of his pocket and gave it to her. “No way the angels will find us with those. Demons either.” Emily looked at Ramiel and walked to her backpack.

“Really?” asked Dean. Emily fished an old phone from the bottom of her backpack. She threw it to Ramiel.

“You know how to use that, right?” she asked. “In case you need help, since, you know-” Ramiel nodded as she waved the hex bag. She hadn’t seen anything like that before. She turned towards Sam and frowned. “How-”

“Ruby,” he said. Emily bit the inside of her lips and forced a smile out of her.

“Speaking of,” said Dean. “How you doing? Are you jonesing for another hit of bitch blood or what?”

“I-it's weird. Uh-” Sam quickly glared at Emily. ”...tell you the truth, I'm fine. No shakes, no fever. It's like whoever...put me on that plane cleaned me right up.” Emily huffed and shook her head. “I’m telling the truth, okay?”

“I’m sure you are,” she said, closing her backpack. Dean shook his head.

“Look, I’m-”

“It’s fine,” said Dean. “Sam, it’s fine, you don’t have to say anything.” Emily shook her head and took a cigarette out of the pack she’d left on the table. She gestured at Ramiel to follow her and walked out the room, the door slamming behind her. The angel followed silently as she climbed down the four flights of stairs and went out the building. She sat on the hood of a car and lit the cigarette up.

“Are you okay?”asked the angel. Emily nodded.

“Yeah, just…” she sighed. “I can’t believe Dean isn’t mad with Sam.”

“What makes you think he isn’t mad?” asked the angel. Emily frowned. “To me, it looks like he just doesn’t want to start a fight.”

“Oh, cool, so now you’re on his side, too,” Emily said. Ramiel frowned, confused.

“No, I- I’m saying he’s mad, he just doesn’t want to-”

“Yeah, but why? Give me a single reason why!” she snapped, her cigarette hitting the hood of the car and breaking in half. Emily groaned and tried to light it back up, frustrated. Ramiel took the cigarette away from her. “Ramiel!”

“Amore, look at me and tell me what’s bothering you so much,” said the angel. Emily rolled her eyes. “Sam’s your best friend. Aren’t you happy he’s back? And fine?”

“Yeah, of course,” Emily sighed. “But, you know, Sam fucked up. And Dean, he… he doesn’t even seem to care!” Ramiel looked at her and crossed his arms. Emily took a deep breath and looked away. “Look,” she said. “Years ago, something happened and- and I opened the gates of hell.” Ramiel nodded. “And when I did that, Dean put up a fight. A big fight. He, he-”

“Maybe,” said Ramiel. “Maybe he learnt from his mistake.” Emily huffed, trying to hide a smile.

“Dean doesn’t learn from his mistakes. Dean’s an asshole who always thinks he’s right.” The door to the motel opened and Sam walked out. Emily rolled her eyes and shoved a hand in her pocket to take another cigarette. Ramiel shook his head and put a hand in the backpocket of his pants. He handed her a pack of cigarettes. Emily took one out and lit it up. Sam arrived in front of her.

“Can we talk?” he asked. Emily looked away and ignored him. “Come on, please.” Emily glared at Ramiel and sighed.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” he said. Emily tried to say something, but he started walking towards the motel. Emily threw her hands in the hair and scoffed. Sam crossed his arms.

“What do you want, Samuel?” she asked. Sam sighed and scratched the back of his neck.

“I- I- I wanted to say s-”

“Spare me, okay?” said Emily with a scoff. “You made a mess, you clean it up. I don’t want to hear your stupid apologies.”

“I know it doesn’t cut it, but-”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” said Emily. “I’m tired of paying the consequences of things I didn’t do, okay? You died, I had to pay,” Sam looked away. “You start drinking demon blood? I pay the consequences. In the meantime, every little mistake I made the past seven year- it’s apparently much worse than jump starting the fucking armageddon!”

“Emily-”

“I got slapped, punched, pinned to walls, called names, and for what? Just to see you get away with starting the apocalypse over a demon?” she yelled. Sam didn’t answer. “So you can talk as much as you want, but none of it is going to change the fact this little fuck up you did? Is one hundred percent going to bite me in the ass, not you!”

“You’re right,” said Sam with a sigh. Emily frowned. “Everything you said, you’re right.” He looked away and took a deep breath. “Look, I’m- I’m not asking you to forgive me, okay? I- I- I just thought- I should have listened to you.” Emily shook her head. “And for what it’s worth, I think Dean is trying,” said Sam. “And I know he… he keeps messing up, but he has good intentions.”

“Yeah, right,” Emily rolled her eyes. A girl walked past them and into the motel. “Every single thing you ever said about me and Dean turned out to be crap, so…” Sam huffed, hiding a laugh, and looked away. A few seconds later, his phone rang. He picked up the call.

“Dean? Wh-” he said, frowning. “O-okay, yeah, yeah, I’ll- I’ll be right up.” Sam glared at her and walked back in the motel. Ramiel walked back to where Emily was standing.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily nodded and reached in Ramiel’s pocket, looking for the cigarettes. Ramiel grabbed her hand and moved it away. She rolled her eyes. The angel stood straighter and turned around.

“What?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

“I have to go.” Was all Ramiel said before disappearing.

“Where’s Ramiel?” asked Dean, looking around the room. Emily was leaning on a table, thinking back and forth about the piece of information they just received.

“Can we focus?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “Read it to me again.”

“The Micheal sword is on Earth. The angels lost it,” he read from a piece of paper. “In a castle on a hill made of forty two dogs.” Emily sighed. “It has to be code, right?” asked Dean. “There’s no way somebody built a castle on top of a hill of dogs.” Emily rolled her eyes and took the piece of paper.

“The Micheal sword is on Earth.” she read again. “In a castle on a hill made of forty two dogs- Dean, are you sure you got this right?”

“That’s what Becky said.” Emily frowned. “I mean, she didn’t exactly look stable to me, but- you know. She said it came from Chuck.”

“Is… Chuck stable?” asked Emily. “Last time we saw him he wasn’t exactly in the best shape.”

“That’s the best lead we got,” said Dean. “But I swear this ‘dogs on a hill’ thing reminds me of something, I- I just can’t figure out what.” Emily sighed and stared at the piece of paper. “By the way, Becky seemed really bummed that you weren’t there,” said Dean. “He asked Sam if you two, and I quote, broke up.” Emily frowned, confused. “Yeah, I don’t know. She was weird.” Someone knocked on their door and Sam opened it to reveal Bobby. Emily smiled.

“Hey,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“Got you your car back,” he said. “And I brought some of your best friends.” He lifted a heavy looking bag. Emily smiled. “Books. Nice and dusty, just like you like ‘em.”

“Anything on Micheal’s sword?” she asked.

“Let’s find out.” Bobby threw the bag on the floor and opened it. Emily stood up and took a book. Dean did the same. Sam stopped in front of the books and sighed. Emily looked at him, then at Dean, who had also noticed Sam standing still.

“Kid? You all right?” asked Bobby.

Sam, can we not? Sam looked at her and swallowed.

“No, actually-” said Sam. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Sam,” he said.

“Bobby, this is all my fault,” said Sam. “I’m sorry.”

“Sam,” Emily crossed her arms and tried to tell him to stop, if not telepathically, with her eyes. But he looked at her and ignored her.

“Lilith did not break the final seal,” he said.

“Sam, stop!” said Emily. “Can you not start this all over again?” Bobby looked at her.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said. “I already know everything.” Emily frowned and looked at Dean. He seemed confused, too.

“You guys warned me about Ruby,” said Sam. “the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on.” Bobby looked at him. He took a step closer to Sam.

“You're damn right you didn't listen,” he said. “You were reckless, selfish and arrogant,” Sam opened his mouth to talk again, but Bobby continued: “Oh, yeah? You're sorry you started Armageddon?” Emily closed the book she had opened. “This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy,” said Bobby. “If, by some miracle, we pull this off… I want you to lose my number.” Emily felt some pressure in the back of her neck, followed by a wave of panic mixed with sadness. She looked at Sam and sighed. She really wished she could empathize, but the truth was, she was more than tempted to be on Bobby’s side. “You understand me?” Sam nodded and then looked at Emily. He sighed. Dean crossed his arms.

“There's an old church nearby,” said Sam in a whisper. “Maybe I'll go read some of the lore books there.” With that, he grabbed his bag. Emily watched him leave the room and stared at the point where he had disappeared until Sam’s feelings left her brain. She cleared her voice and sat down.

“You good?” asked Dean, also sitting down with a book in his hands. Emily ignored him and opened the book back up. “Do you want to go check if he’s okay?”

“No,” she said, not taking her eyes off the book. She still saw Dean shake his head. “What?!”

“Nothing, I just think… you should stick with him.”

“Yeah?” Emily said, “And I think your ideas are a pile of shit, how about that?” Dean shook his head and went back to his book.

“Your father was right,” said Bobby. Emily looked at him, confused.

“What?” she asked. “About what?”

“About Sam and you,” Dean picked his eyes up from the book. He turned towards Bobby. “What John said was to either save you or kill you.”

“Okay, and?” She frowned, “What are you trying to say, Bobby?”

“Maybe…” he hesitated. “Maybe we shouldn’t have tried so hard to save you.” Emily blinked a couple times, unsure on how to react.

“What?!” said Dean. “Okay, slow down, where does this come from?”

“She opened the gates of hell,” he pointed to Emily. “And Sam just ended the world. And we didn’t stop them.”

“Woah, okay-” Emily said. “Not two days ago you were lecturing me about having fucking free will, what the hell are you even talking about?”

“I’m just saying, maybe your dad was right.” Dean looked at his bag, realizing something. Emily tried to answer, but he stood up and interrupted her.

“Where’s that- that zip bag of- of dad’s contact cards?” He asked. Emily frowned. “The ones we found in his wallet, remember?” Emily stood up, too, and walked to her backpack. She put her hand at the bottom of it and took out her journal. She opened it to the last page and handed Dean the plastic bag. He opened it and flipped through the contact cards.

“Here,” he said. Emily looked at the card. “Castle storage, forty two rover hill.”

“Castle on a hill of forty two dogs!” said Emily, unable to contain a smile. “So, dad had it all this time?” she asked. “And we didn’t know?”

“I don’t know, but it seems too much of a coincidence, right?” Emily took the card and walked to where Bobby was sitting to grab her laptop. Then, something knocked her out and she fell to the floor.

Emily woke up in the back of the Impala, alone. She picked her head up and saw Sam walk back towards the car. She focused on her surroundings and figured she was in front of a hospital. She put one hand on the seat to sit up: it was wet. She moved her hand towards the lights outside and saw it covered in blood. She looked down at herself. She was fine, she wasn’t bleeding. Then what-

“Are you okay?” asked Sam, opening the car door. Emily didn’t answer. “Come on,” he grabbed her wrist and dragged her towards the hospital.

“What happened?” she asked. Sam turned towards her for just a moment, but then stopped a nurse and insisted she checked her up.

“Sam, I’m fine-”

“You’ve been out for twenty minutes,” said Sam. “Just… a quick check.” Emily rolled her eyes and looked at the nurse. “Please,” said Sam. She sighed.

“Okay, just- let’s make it quick, okay? I’m sure there’s people who need much more help than me.”

“Don’t worry, dear,” said the nurse. “Just wait for me here as I get you a gurney.” The nurse walked away.

“What the hell happened?” asked Emily. Sam looked at her and sighed.

“Bobby was possessed,” he said. “He stabbed himself, probably going up to surgery right now.”

“What?!” she asked. Sam sighed and glared towards the nurse who was coming back.

“Okay, miss Reed, you seem like you’re all good,” said the doctor, putting his stethoscope back around his neck. “I’d just like to order a CT to rule out any internal bleeding.” Emily looked at Sam and sighed.

“Doc, I promise I’m all good,” she said. “Is it really necessary?”

“These kinds of injuries can be fatal if left untreated or treated too late, so yes, it is necessary.” Emily nodded. The doctor took a step back. “Someone will be with you shortly,” he said and walked towards another doctor.

“Where’s Dean?” asked Emily. Sam took his phone and checked his messages.

“Looking for Micheal’s sword,” he said.

“And he left you here to babysit me?” asked Emily. Sam huffed. “I didn’t need the hospital, I am fine.”

“Dean’s the one who insisted,” said Sam. “He said you hit your head pretty hard.”

“Dean insisted?” She frowned. “The world really is upside down these days.” Sam looked away. “What about Bobby?”

“Still haven’t heard anything,” said Sam. “But Emily, he wasn’t looking good.” Emily pinched her nose and leaned back in the bed. Bobby couldn’t die. She wasn’t sure she could go through that. She didn’t trust Sam, and Dean was… well, he was Dean. If Bobby was gone, she had no one on her corner. “I’m-” Sam sighed. “I’m gonna go ask around.”

So much information. All in the same five minutes. Bobby wasn’t going to walk again, Dean was Micheal’s sword, she had to stay for twenty four hours in the hospital for observation or whatever it was the doctors had said. Sam and Dean had gone back to the motel, and said they were going to come back to get her out the following night. She hadn’t heard at all from Ramiel, and the hospital was lonely. Very lonely. She looked around, no one was on her floor. She grabbed her backpack, opened it and took out her copy of ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows’, sat on the wheelchair with the book on her lap and snuck her way to the elevator. She went down one floor. A couple of nurses walked by, too busy to notice her, and so she rolled herself to Bobby’s room. He was awake.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” Emily smirked and pointed to the wheelchair.

“I’m resting,” she said. “I’m resting my ass in a wheelchair.” Bobby shook his head. “I’m fine, seriously.”

“You shouldn’t take it this lightly,” said Bobby. “I would never forgive myself if you were hurt because of me.”

“Bobby, you didn’t do anything,” said Emily. “Don’t feel guilty for something someone else did.”

“You’re right,” said Bobby. He sighed. “Your dad was all kinds of wrong about you.” Emily smiled. “I stand by what I said, sweetheart, the demon blood doesn’t account for shit. Free will is what it's all about.” Emily rolled her chair next to Bobby’s bed and crossed her legs on it. “What you got there?” He pointed to the book she was holding.

“Harry Potter,” she said. “I know, kind of a light reading for me, but it came out almost four years ago and I’m still to read it.”

“I didn’t know you liked Harry Potter,” said Bobby. “Since when?”

“Since I turned eleven and my mom gifted me the first book,” answered Emily. “It’s kind of nice, you know, pretending none of this is happening and I’m actually in Hogwarts for… a couple of hours.”

“So,” Bobby frowned. “All the other Harry Potter books I keep finding at home…”

“Yup, all mine,” Emily smiled. “I re-read them these past few weeks, so I might have left them around.” she said. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Bobby. “It’s nice to see some traces of a normal life around the house.” Emily smiled and leaned back in the chair. She opened the book and started reading.

When Bobby fell asleep, and the hospital started to repopulate, she snuck back into her room and waited for the doctors to run their last checks on her and waited for Sam and Dean to come pick her up. They didn’t. Emily called a few times and then got a message from Dean saying they were ‘on a case’. Emily left by herself and drove a stolen car back to Bobby’s house.

She locked the door behind her and sighed. She was alone. She made her way to the kitchen and checked Bobby’s voice messages. There was only one, from a few hours before.

“Hey Bobby, it’s Garth,” said the voice. “Listen, I am out on a case and I think I might have put my hands on a Vetala. Can you give me some info? These bitches seem reeeeal dangerous, so I really don’t want to go in blind. Call me back.” Emily dropped her backpack to the floor and hit the call button. Garth answered after a couple of tones.

“Hey Bobby, good to hear from you!” he said. “So this Vetala I’m hunting-”

“Hey,” said Emily. “Sorry, Bobby- Bobby can’t call you back for now, so-”

“Oh, okay,” said Garth. “Who are you?” Emily sighed.

“My name’s Emily, I- I don’t think we’ve met, but-”

“Emily?” Garth repeated. “You mean the kid that was always hanging out at his house?” Emily frowned.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” she said. “About the Vetala, you-”

“Damn, I remember when you started learning how to drive he was all proud,” said Garth. “What’s going on, where is he?” Emily hesitated.

“He’s…” She looked around, trying to come up with a lie that wouldn’t worry the hunter enough for him to drive there and check. “Sick. Some spoiled food or something. Not a good view, if I have to be honest.”

“That sounds bad alright,” said Garth. “Sorry, you were saying, about the Vetala?”

“Silver will work,” said Emily. “To the heart, for- you know- max efficiency.”

“Damn, why didn’t I think of that?!” said Garth. “You saved me a day of research. Thanks kid!”

“You’re welcome,” Emily answered with a sigh.

“You tell Bobby I said hi, okay?”

“Sure,” Emily said. “Bye.” She put the phone back on the stand and picked her bag up. She looked at the clock: it was time for dinner. Emily opened the fridge just to find it empty. How the hell did Bobby live in that house? It couldn’t be healthy to only eat takeout at his age. In the back of a closet, she found a can of spaghetti and meatballs that hadn't expired, and threw it in a pot. She leaned on the kitchen counter and looked around. The amount of horrible things that had happened in that room alone would have been enough for anybody else to leave. But not for her. Bobby’s house might have been a theater of some shit, but it had also been the place she’d called home first after her mom and her brother died. Where she’d learnt how to shoot and how to drive. John left her there for months, sometimes without ever giving Bobby any notice, and Bobby was always ready to have her around. Being in there alone felt weird, it made her think about what would have happened if Bobby hadn’t made it through. Then, she looked at the stairs that brought to the second floor. She sighed. Bobby wasn’t gonna be able to get up there anymore. The stairs creaked as she made her way upstairs and looked around. All the lore books she could find, she brought back downstairs. All the ingredients, scattered around the cabinets, too. She put everything away, knowing full well Bobby was going to complain about her order not being right. She spent three days, all alone, in silence, at Bobby’s home. It was as close to her old life as she had ever been. As close to normal. She woke up, made breakfast, washed the dishes, cleaned one of the rooms, and read for the rest of the day. No one texted her, no one called her. She almost didn’t even think about Dean being Micheal’s vessel, or how Sam betrayed her and now she could barely look him in the eyes. It was like time had stopped. She just existed, as a normal nineteen year old. When, four days later, Dean showed up, alone, she was brought back to the harsh reality of the apocalypse being an impending problem.

“Where’s Sam?” she asked. Dean looked away. “What happened?”

“He left,” said Dean. Emily crossed her arms. “We went to help Ellen and Jo with a problem, lots of- uh, lots of what we thought were demons.”

“Oh,” said Emily, putting two and two together. Demon blood. A lot of demon blood. “Did he…”

“No,” said Dean. “But he says he’s scared he might.”

“Wait, you said you thought they were demons?” she asked. Dean nodded. “What were they?”

“People,” said Dean. “What was making them kill each other was War.” Emily frowned.

“Come again?”

“War, with the red horse. The knight.”

“From the apocalypse?” she asked. Dean nodded and took a ring out of his pocket.

“Straight from his finger,” he explained. “Look, I know you and Sam are… best buddies or whatever, but he’s the one who wanted to split.”

“Really?” Emily asked. Dean nodded. She sighed and looked away. “I guess it’s for the better,” she said. Dean didn’t answer. He walked to the kitchen and sighed. “Did he say what he was going to do or… where he was going?” she asked. Dean shrugged and walked to the kitchen.

“What did you do all alone in here?” he asked, looking around. He opened the fridge and raised his eyebrows, seeing it full. “You went to the grocery store?”

“Yeah,” said Emily. “Bobby’s still in the hospital, so I… I guess I took the week off.” Dean didn’t say anything. He picked up the phone and dialed the closest pizza place’s number. “Is pepperoni okay?” he asked. Emily nodded. She walked to the living room and turned on the TV. Dean appeared behind her a few minutes later. “You got plans?” he asked. Emily shrugged.

“Where am I supposed to go?” she asked. Dean sighed and looked away for a moment.

“Look, it’s been a stressful week. How about we just… sit down… pop open some fresh ones?” Emily frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head with a smile. “Of course, why- why not.” Dean walked back into the kitchen. “News from Cas?” she asked as soon as he got back, opening the beer.

“Yeah, he… he came to the hospital,” said Dean, sitting across the couch. Emily felt like it was somehow familiar. Not in a good way. “He said…” Dean cleared his voice. “He said he thinks he knows how to stop Lucifer without siding with Micheal,” he took a sip of beer.

“You mean… like… God?” Emily frowned. Dean nodded. “Wait, what? It was a joke- He said we need to contact God?!”

“Yup,” Dean looked away. In the silence that followed, Dean fiddled with his shirt where Emily distinctly remembered him having a necklace. It was then, while Dean looked away and she couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was thinking about, that she remembered why it felt so familiar to sit there.

“You really can’t see it, can you?” she asked. “I also lost a brother. Again.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Sure, yeah,” she whispered, “I never do. After all, I am just a kid, right?”

Emily’s body tensed as the memories of the night Sam died flooded her mind. She cleared her voice.

“So, you-” she said, trying to hide how shaky her voice was getting. “Did Cas say how?”

“No,” answered Dean, looking away. Emily sighed. “He… he just said he was going to.”

“Okay…” Emily cleared her voice again. She adjusted herself in the corner of the couch and looked at the TV. “Is the pizza-”

“Twenty minutes,” said Dean. Emily nodded. Alone with Dean. Again. On that same couch. “You good?” asked Dean. Emily didn’t answer. “You look terrible.”

“I’m fine,” she said and swallowed. “What- uh- what do you want to watch?” Dean silently reached for the remote and changed channel.

Emily’s journal

14/06

Being alone with Dean is starting to suck. He barely speaks to me, and when he does, my mind starts blanking. I can’t. I need Sam back. Cursed or not, whatever, I need to speak with someone who didn’t beat the shit out of me between these four fucking walls.

20/06

Bobby is coming out of the hospital on wednesday, so thank god me and Dean only have a couple of days left to be around each other. And I keep dreaming about my mom. She keeps telling me about how I’m a mess and couldn’t stop Sam in time. She tells me I’m useless and I should really end it. I have no idea what the hell is going on.

21/06

I had another dream. My hands are still shaking. This time, it wasn’t my mom. It was Lucifer. It had always been him. He wants to know where I am, he wants me to team up with him. Turns out, I’m Lucifer’s fucking vessel.

What a coincidence. Dean and me, ending the world in one huge, final fight? Should have fucking expected it. I’m gonna have to tell him and it’s going to be a huge fucking thing. Fuck.

Emily closed her journal and looked at her phone. Ten AM. Dean would have been awake. She sat up, brushed a hand through her hair and walked downstairs. Her brother was, as expected, sitting in the living room, on a tipped back chair, feet on the table, precariously swinging the chair back and forth as he looked something up on his laptop.

“Morning,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen. Emily dragged her hand over her face. “You okay?”

“I guess,” she sighed. “I- I just…” Emily rolled her eyes. Waiting wasn’t a good idea. Hiding things had never worked for her and Dean. “I just saw something.” Dean’s chair fell back on its four legs and Dean looked up at Emily for the first time since she’d woken up. “Lucifer. He just talked to me.”

“What?” Dean closed the lid of his laptop. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re Micheal’s true vessel, right?” she asked. Dean dragged his face over his eyes. “Well, apparently, I’m Lucifer’s.” Dean sighed and put the laptop on the table. He stood up.

“Okay,” he said a few moments later. “So… Lucifer’s wearing you to prom?”

“Yup,” Emily looked away, unable to look at Dean any longer. “So?”

“What?” asked Dean. Emily scoffed. “What?!”

“You’re not going to… say anything?” she asked. “Did you forget what Zacharia said?!” Dean crossed his arms. “Micheal and Lucifer are going to fight it out, that means-”

“I know what that means!” Dean said. Emily tried opening her mouth to talk, but he continued. “What am I supposed to do about it?!”

“I don’t know, say something?!” asked Emily. “You find out we’re literally destined to end the fucking world and all you can say is… nothing?”

“I’m sorry- Are you planning on saying yes to him?” asked Dean, standing up.

“No!” Emily took a step back. It was an instinct, she didn’t even realize she was doing it until Dean - who was about to answer - closed his mouth. He looked away and took a deep breath.

“Look, I- I- I don’t want to start a fight, okay? I’m just saying if- if you-” Dean stopped talking for a moment, sighed and then continued. “I’m not going to say yes to Micheal, you’re not going to say yes to Lucifer. They can’t do it without us, right?” Emily nodded. But she knew it wasn’t right. Angels were smart, they knew they could put them against each other. Demons, too. Everybody knew. The last time they dared to exist too close to each other without Sam, Emily opened the gates to hell.

“Right,” was all she whispered before walking back upstairs. She had to leave. Even if she excluded the possibility of them being put against each other, there was still another problem. They both were on every angel’s and every demon’s fucking radar. They were targets. And sure they had tattoos and protection, but how long were they going to last? How long until they found them? Emily zipped her backpack close and rushed back down the stairs. Dean appeared next to her.

“Woah, what- where are you going?” he asked, trying to stop her. Emily shoved her arm away and took a step back from Dean. He swallowed.

“Somewhere else,” said Emily. Dean frowned. Then, a second later, his eyebrows raised.

“Care to include me in your logic?” he asked. “Where the hell is this coming from?” Emily looked away for a moment and put her hands on her waist.

“The end of the world is coming and you and I have literally been chosen to fight against each other,” she said. “We’ve been through this before. I really don’t want an act two of that mess.”

“Emily-”

“No, Dean!” she yelled. “What do you think it’s going to happen now? They know we fight all the time, they- they know I’m the one who opened the gates to hell and they know you’re the reason I did that!” Dean’s arms crossed and his fingers tapped on his elbow. Emily sighed. “I’m the weak link. They’re going to put us against each other so they can make me say yes to him.”

“And you seriously think it’s going to work?” said Dean. “You’d let them do it?”

“No, Dean, I-” she sighed. “I’m not gonna stand around and let them try, okay?” She tried to take another step towards the door, but Dean stepped in. “Let me go.”

“No, you listen to me,” he said. Emily looked away, her entire body urging her to step away. Or punch him. “None of that is going to happen, okay?” Emily bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m not letting them.”

“Yeah, because you and I…” Emily took a step back. “We’re so good at being siblings, right?” she said. “We’re the best at just… being in peace.” Dean looked away, the only sound in the room, his fingers tapping on the console table. Emily looked at Dean’s hand and frowned. The moment he realized she was looking at his fingers, he clenched his fist and then stretched his hand a couple of times. He stopped tapping the table. “Look, I’m doing this for both of us, okay?” Emily said. “Sam’s not here,” said Emily. “I’m not doing this again.” Emily pushed past Dean and put a hand on the handle.

“Please,” said Dean. Fuck. Emily closed her eyes as the tapping resumed, somewhere behind her. Her hand was still on the handle.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked without turning. Dean cleared his voice. “It’s nothing like you to fucking beg me to stay.”

“I’m not begging,” he said. Emily turned, her backpack falling off her shoulder with a thump. Dean crossed his arms, but Emily could still see his fingers tapping on his elbow.

“You know, I see you doing your finger thing,” she said. “You’ve been doing it ever since hell.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Dean, quickly running his hand across his eyes. Emily sighed. “I thought you were leaving.”

“So, all of a sudden, you want me to go?” she asked. Dean didn’t answer, he tried taking another deep breath, but his back shook up and down. Emily sighed. The puzzle pieces finally went back together. The day of their fight over Alastair. The way he cried, the way he kept asking her to stop. Then, when he put her in the panic room and when she came out, he couldn’t seem to breathe after they fought. The tapping every time she brought up hell or what happened after Sam died. Dean had come back from hell much more fucked up than he cared to admit. “Oh shit,” said Emily. She wasn’t exactly sure why Dean having a panic attack threw her off so much. But from the looks of it, that was exactly what was happening. Dean looked up and dried his face once again. What was she supposed to do? Being straight about what was happening to him was out of the question, Dean wasn’t going to admit it. “I’m…” Emily trailed off for a second. “I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette.”

The world was wide enough

From Hamilton - The Musical

One, two, three, four, five, six, sever, eight, nine
There are ten things you need to know

Emily pushed Bobby's wheelchair up the ramp. The man huffed and as soon as he was on top of the ramp, he grabbed the wheels and wheeled himself through the door.

“So, I- I moved some stuff downstairs, like- books, and ingredients and-and stuff, and Dean helped me move all your clothes downstairs in the guest room.”

“Y-”

“Someone had to, okay? Don't get all defensive.” she said. Bobby smiled. “What?”

“I was about to say thank you,” he said. “Don't get all defensive.” Emily looked at Dean, who shrugged. “Where's Sam?” asked Bobby. Emily looked away, silent. Dean crossed his arms. “Oh, you two- what did you do?!”

“Nothing!” “Nothing!” she and Dean said.

“He wanted to split,” said Dean. “He said he needed… time.”

“How long ago?” asked Bobby. Emily and Dean looked at each other.

“Almost a month,” said Emily. Bobby tried to complain. “Dude, he decided to leave, we-we're not about to force him to come back! He has our numbers!”

“For Pete's sake,” Bobby shook his head and wheeled himself in the kitchen. Emily followed him. “He doesn't need space, he needs forgiveness, you idiots!” Emily looked at Dean and wrapped herself in her arms. “You didn't think of that?” She shook her head. “Dean?”

“I told him it was okay,” said Dean. “What else does he want from me?” Bobby shook his head. “Look, we worked a case, demon blood was involved, he…” Dean trailed off.

“What?”

“Maybe he's right,” said Dean, looking at Emily. “Maybe we should call him.” Emily frowned. “I know, I know, just… I mean, it's Sam we're talking about, okay? I- I-”

“What?!” said Emily. Dean rolled his eyes and looked away. He sighed.

“We need him around,” he said. “You know, for… for… peace.”

“Counter offer,” said Emily, confused. “We… uh- start talking to each other like normal siblings?” Dean shook his head and looked at the ceiling for a moment before murmuring something under his breath, walking around Bobby's wheelchair and leaving the room.

“What the hell is going on with him?” asked Bobby. Emily sighed.

“This… this Micheal and Lucifer thing,” she said. “He's been going crazy about it,” she explained. “Cas… he comes here like- three times a week and they talk for hours, I-” She looked away and sighed. “I'll leave you to get comfortable, give me a holler if you need something, okay?”

Before she knew it, they were back at taking gigs. It was never big stuff. Salt and burns, most days. Bobby wrote Emily at least an email a day asking where the fuck she had put this and that, and Dean would barely talk to her. Sam had been MIA, too. After everything they’d been through, she would have thought he would have had the decency to text her. Just once. Ask if she was okay. But he never did. So, her life proceeded in an almost religious silence, where Dean would only speak to her if necessary. When she wasn’t hunting, she was reading. Dean, instead, would leave most nights to go drinking. Sometimes, he would come back black out drunk and wake her up by either slamming the door or falling into bed. Other times, he wouldn’t come back until it was almost lunch time. Those times, he usually reeked of sweat, sex, and cheap cologne. Men’s or women’s alike. There was a plus side to that: Dean usually brought her coffee. It was their fourth salt and burn that week and it was proving to be longer than anticipated. Dean had claimed himself too tired to go out and had passed out in bed not long after coming back to the motel. Emily was sitting in bed, the lamp on the side table barely giving her enough light to read, when Dean screamed and woke up. The book Emily was holding fell out of her hands and she knocked the beer bottle that was resting next to the lamp on the floor, which shattered on the floor and splashed beer everywhere.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” she hissed, trying to locate her boots across the room. Dean's breath was heavy as he laid on the wall behind the bed and closed his eyes. Emily turned towards him for a moment. Dean had never been one to sleep well, but he also had never woke up screaming like that. Dean dried his forehead from the sweat and stood up. It was just then, Emily noticed he was sleeping with his boots on. He grabbed his jacket and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Emily walked out of bed from Dean's side and grabbed her boots from a dark corner of the room. She wore them and started picking up glass shards off the carpet. She looked out the window to see Dean made his way through the parking lot and towards Castiel.

Number one - We rowed across the Hudson at dawn
my friend, William P. Van Ness signed on as my number two - Hamilton arrived with his crew, Nathaniel Pendelton and a doctor that he knew

She sighed and walked to the bathroom. She put a towel where the beer had shattered and picked up her book. She sat down on the bed again. She knew staying with Dean was the right decision, morally speaking. Dean wasn't fine. At all. But also… What did she stay for? He barely spoke to her. She had no idea how to talk to him, to get him to open up, not even how to ask him if he wanted coffee without making him nervous. Sam knew how to do all those things, and he didn't even have the decency to text her. No wonder Dean had to call Cas basically every other night. She looked at her phone. There was someone she could call: Ramiel. Sure, Emily didn't love that he had a very obvious, very passionate crush on her. He was cute but not in a boyfriend kind of way. More like… in a friend's with benefits kind of way. Kinda like Daniel. Kinda like every person she'd ever been attracted to before. But more than anything, he had that celestial wisdom he never missed an opportunity to show off. Emily dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail. Celestial wisdom my ass, she thought. The idiot probably forgot to charge it. For a moment, the thought of calling Sam went through her mind, but she forced herself to reject it. Call him for what? To tell him she and Dean were destined to destroy the entire world? Sure, that would have brought him back on board in a second. There was one last thing she could do. She took a deep breath and stood up again. She walked out the motel room shoving the keys in her pocket. Dean and Castiel turned the moment the door slammed behind her.

“What’s going on?” she asked. Dean looked at Castiel. The angel sighed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Dean. “Go back to sleep, kid.” Emily looked at Castiel. The angel sighed and looked away.

“Dean…” she sighed.

“What?” said Dean. “I said I'm fine!”

“Dean,” said the angel. Dean ignored him.

“I am!” he said. Emily looked at Castiel. He sighed and looked away.

“Do you seriously think I'm a fucking idiot?” she asked. “Look, I stayed, okay? I- I fucking shoved my emotions down the hatch and made it so I could stay with you- even if I'm fucking terrified- because you're my brother.” Dean looked away. “Care to fucking tell me what the hell is going on?”

“You don't need to worry about this,” said Dean. “It’s fine.” Behind Dean, Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Dean!” he sighed, frustrated. Dean looked at him for a moment, long enough for the angel to scoff and cross his arms. Emily sighed.

“Alright,” she said. “You know where to find me.” Emily turned to walk back to the motel, and as soon as she closed the door behind her, Castiel appeared, scaring her. “Jesus Christ, Cas!” she yelled. “What do you want?”

“We need to talk about Dean,” he said. Emily crossed her arms. “I don't know how to help him.”

“What makes you think I do?” asked Emily. “You're the one he talks with, Cassie, he barely says hello to me.”

“I believe you do know some ways to help him,” said Cas. The door opened behind her and she turned. It was Dean. When she turned to look for Castiel, the angel was gone. Emily shook her head and walked back to bed.

Number three - I watched Hamilton examine the terrain
I wish I could tell you what was happening in his brain

Dean woke up, and he wasn’t in the hotel. He’d gone to sleep in the same room as Emily, then got a call from Sam telling him he was Lucifer’s vessel, and then he’d gone back to sleep. Emily could wait to hear the news until morning, he thought. But then morning came and he wasn’t in the hotel anymore. Fire and oil. That’s what they were, and it looked like there was no way to change that. Emily was right, they’d be better off away from each other, but Dean couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her alone again. She was just a kid. Someone had to look after her. He stood up and looked out the window. That was not Kansas city. That was not a city, at all. Maybe it used to be, but it was in ruins. Dean walked down the stairs and into the street. Something was going on. There was not a single person in the street, until there was, and they were chasing after him. Dean ran down the street, and found himself cornered between a gate and the people chasing him. Fire was opened, he dropped to the ground, passed out. When he came to his senses, he saw Zacharia. The son of a bitch never missed the opportunity to piss him off. That time, the topic was consequences. Three days with the consequences of saying no to Micheal. Dean drove all night, and reached Camp Chitaqua. It didn’t occur to him Emily would be there, too, until she cuffed him to the radiator. She didn’t look like the Emily he knew. It looked like she’d forgotten her old clothes and so she’d wore Dean’s. Flannels and boots all the way, instead of her overalls.

“Where the fuck did you find this freak?” she asked the other Dean. She took a step forward, visibly limping. He grabbed his gun and loaded it.

“He was carrying the same stuff I carry, in the same places,” he said. “He can’t be anything good.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Dean intervened. “I’m no shapeshifter, okay?” he said. “Zacharia- he’s the one who got me stuck here.” Emily and the other Dean stood up.

“What did you say?” Emily asked, crossing her arms. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know, okay? All I know is he plucked me from my bed and threw me five years into the future,” Dean said. Emily and the other Dean sighed. “I just want to get back to my own friggin' year, okay?”

“Okay,” said Dean. “Say you really are me from five years ago, prove it.” Emily smirked right behind the other Dean. “Tell me something only I would know.” Dean thought for a second, then swallowed.

“Rhonda Hurley. We were, uh, nineteen. She made us try on her panties. They were pink. And satiny.” Emily held back a laugh and turned around. “And you know what? We kind of liked it.”

“I fucking knew it,” she whispered. “God, I can’t wait to tell Cas.”

“Cas is here?” asked Dean. The other Dean nodded.

“Oh, he’s here alright,” he said with a sigh. “Our brother in law finds all ways to make me mad,” Dean frowned.

“Our what?”

“Can you stop calling him that?” Emily complained. “We’re not married, just because you-”

“Can we not?” the other Dean roared, shutting Emily up. She rolled her eyes and walked out of the cabin. Seeing it from the outside was weird. “So, what, Zach zapped you up here to see how bad it gets?”

“I- I guess,” said Dean. “Croatoan virus, right? That's their endgame?” the other Dean nodded.

“It's efficient, it's incurable, and it's scary as hell,” he sighed. “Turns people into monsters.” Emily walked back inside the cabin and grabbed something from her bag. The Dean from the future saw her, walked towards her and grabbed whatever she had in her hands from her.

“Dean!” she complained. “Give it back!”

“I told you to get clean,” he said. “Look, I’m not arguing with you right now, just get the fuck out.” Emily looked at future Dean, then at past Dean, and sighed. She walked out again, still limping.

“Well, I guess time passes but not much changes, am I right?” said future Dean. Dean looked at Emily walk out and realized nothing had changed at all. Five years later, they were exactly the same, just dressed differently.

“What about Sam?” he asked. Future Dean put down the gun he was holding and froze. He bit the inside of his cheek.

“Heavyweight showdown in Detroit,” he explained. “From what I understand, Sam didn't make it.”

“You weren’t with him?” Dean asked. The other Dean shrugged. He pointed to the door Emily had just gone through.

“She was,” he said. “Even though they hadn’t talked in five years, she still took that risk, and it cost her her leg.” Dean took a deep breath. “So, no, before you asked, we never called him, he never called us, why?” the other Dean huffed. “We had other shit to worry about.” he grabbed his jacket from a table.

“Where are you going?” asked Dean.

“Gotta run an errand,” the future Dean answered. “And I gotta run it with your sister, so- you know how it is.”

Number four - Hamilton drew first position
Looking like a man on a mission

Dean located Castiel’s cabin and entered it. He could distinguish the smell of weed, and Emily’s voice squeaking something under her breath. Dean didn’t consider himself squeamish, but when he walked in to Emily and Cas making out, he felt like vomiting. The two turned towards him, alarmed.

“Dean, I already told you-” Emily started to complain, but then stopped. She tightened her eyes and tilted her head, just like Castiel always did. “Wait, wrong Dean,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for the angel,” he said, looking away. “Sorry I interrupted.” Castiel stood up from the floor and walked closer to Dean. “So, let’s get one thing straight-”

“Are you really from 2009?” Castiel asked. Dean raised his eyebrows, then nodded. “Was it Zacharia?”

“Yes,” Dean said. “Now, do you mind, you know-” Dean gestured wings at Cas. He looked at him, frowned, then released a weak laugh. “Are you-”

“Stoned?” Cas asked, his smile widening. “Yeah, generally.”

“What about you?” Dean asked Emily. She looked at him, eyes watery and getting lost. “Does- does your brother know?”

“Oh, trust me,” Emily said. “He does, and he has a lot of opinions about it.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Dean asked. Castiel sighed and wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulders.

“Life.”

Five - Now I didn’t know this at the time, but we were near the same spot his (my) son died, is that why?

It was nine p.m., the sun had set, and Dean was getting ready. Future Dean had been vague, but he knew he finally found the Colt and they were going to kill the devil. That meant it was going to take him five years to find the Colt, and by the time he did that, Sam would be dead already. A few steps away, Emily swallowed something from a prescription bottle, then took a gun from a bag and started taking it apart.

“There’s something you need to know,” she said a few minutes later. Dean looked around the room. It was only him. “Yeah, I know it’s past you- But Dean didn’t tell you something and I feel like if I don’t tell you now you’ll find out later and freak out, so…” she trailed off. Dean swallowed. Emily put down the piece of gun she was holding and placed it on a tissue. “Sam didn’t die in Detroit,” she explained. “He said yes.”

“You mean-”

“I mean the big ‘yes’,” Emily said. “I- I tried to make him change his mind, but I was late and when I got there-” she sighed and looked at her leg. “Let’s say he turned me into House real quick.”

“Wh-”

“Look, I’m gonna tell you something and I need you to listen to me, okay?” Emily continued. “I know you, and I know me, and I know Sam. This version of your future?” she pointed at the floor. “Not worth it. Find another way.”

“Like what?” Dean said. Emily sighed.

“Like- I don’t know, have me say yes, or you say yes- It doesn’t matter, just- don’t let Sam do it,” Dean tried to complain. “Whatever you do, you and her- do not be alone for the rest of your lives, you hear me?” He leaned back on the chair, taking the words in. “You’re an asshole, and being at war won’t change that.”

“Yeah, but- I-” he tried to say Emily sighed and shook her head.

“Dude, I’m sorry, okay? I know you think you’re gonna make it through, but you won’t, not after you blame her for Sam’s death again,” Emily said. “Trust me, if I could, I’d go back and say yes in no time. Dean looked away. “One more thing,” she added. “Please, tell Cas how you feel.” Dean frowned, confused. “Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“Come on, you’re obviously into him,” Emily huffed. Dean didn’t answer. What the hell was she talking about? She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “Well, okay, maybe you don’t know yet, but, uh-” Emily pointed at Dean, then outside the window. “Let’s say there’s a reason he gets so mad when I walk about me and Cas.”

“How did that happen, anyway?” Dean asked, trying to change the subject. How the hell did future Emily know all those things about him and Cas? Did future him tell her? Did she figure it out? Had she already figured it out in 2009 and hadn’t said anything? He didn’t even have time to figure it out for his own, let alone tell anybody, certainly not tell Cas. Cas was never going to know. But Emily, apparently, was going to. How? Why would he tell her something like that?

“Drugs,” Emily answered, her lips tightening. “It’s not that serious, we just get stoned and then shag.”

“That’s…” Dean frowned. “Disgusting, but thanks for the visual.”

Six - He examined his gun with such rigor
I watched as he methodically
fiddled with the trigger

Dean looked over at himself. As he listened to his own lies, knowing they were lies, he couldn’t help but remember Emily complaining about him being untruthful when they got back from hell. It was almost like lying had become a second nature to him. Uncomfortable truth? Lie. Something to hide? Lie. Don’t wanna deal with it? Lie. But having him from the future lie to his face was weird, and infuriating. How could he have the nerve to think he wouldn’t realize?

“Take a look around, man,” said future Dean. “This place should be white-hot with Croats. Where are they?”

“They cleared a path for us,” he said. “Which means that this is-”

“A trap,” future Dean nodded. “Exactly.”

“Well, then- we’re not going through the front,” he said, pointing at the group that was walking a few feet away from them.. “We-”

“We’re not,” future Dean looked around, checking nobody was listening. “They are.”

“Woah, woah,” Dean said. “Cas and Emily are in there, what are you talking about?” Dean stared at himself from the future as he looked away, trying to hide the fact he did not feel guilty. He was doing what he had to do. “What is wrong with you?” he asked. “You're making decisions that I would never make.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. Dean crossed his arms. Yeah, he was sure. “You know as well as I do how many times we wanted her dead, you think that went away?”

“I mean, it did,” Dean said. Future Dean shook his head. “Dude, I wouldn’t-”

“No, you wouldn’t, which is why we’re in this mess,” future Dean said. Dean tried to complain. “Listen to me, my mission is to kill the devil, they trust me to do that,” he continued. “So that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“I’m not gonna let you,” Dean said.

“No?”

“No,” answered Dean. Future Dean looked at him for a second, licked his lips, and punched him.

Seven - Confession time, here’s what I got
My fellow soldiers’ll tell you I’m a terrible shot

When he woke up, he heard thunder, and ran towards it. Maybe he could still save them, he thought, but he soon realized he was too late. His future self laid on the ground, dead, towered by a man dressed in white. He knew who it was. It was Sam.

“Hello Dean,” he said, turning around. “Aren’t you a surprise.” With another thunder, Sam disappeared and reappeared behind Dean. “You've come a long way to see this, haven't you?”

“Well, go ahead,” said Dean. “Kill me.”

“Kill you?” Sam looked down at the body of Dean’s future self. “Don't you think that would be a little…” Sam smirked. “Redundant?” He adjusted his jacket. “Sorry, it must be painful, speaking to me in this shape.” Sam pointed at himself. “But it had to be your brother,” he continued. “Your sister wouldn't budge.” Sam reached for Dean’s shoulder, but he moved away. He knew that was a lie. Emily was right: she could have done it, or Dean could have. Chances were, most of what had gone wrong was just a consequence of them being stuck together. “You don't have to be afraid of me, Dean. What do you think I'm going to do?” He walked past Dean and towards a rose bush.

“I don’t know, maybe deep fry the planet?” Dean answered. Sam touched a rose from the bush and turned back to Dean.

“Why?” he asked. “Why would I want to destroy this stunning thing?” Dean shook his head. “Beautiful in a trillion different ways. The last perfect handiwork of God.”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Dean said.

“I never meant to destroy this place,” Sam explained. “Just you little hairless apes, flawed, murderous, but yet loved by God more than me.”

“You don’t fool me with this shit,” Dean said. “You’re just the same as every other monster else, just bigger.” Sam smirked and walked past him and towards the woods. “You better kill me now.” He turned back and looked at Dean. “Because if you don’t I’ll find a way to kill you. I won’t stop until I do.”

“Oh, Dean,” Sam sighed. “Maybe you won’t stop trying to find me,” he said. “But you won’t say yes to Micheal, either, and you won’t let Emily say yes, and you won’t kill her, or Sam. You don’t have a choice, Dean,” Sam said. “Whatever you do, whatever details you alter, changes you make, you will always end up here. You’ll always end up killing your sister and Castiel, and for what? Just to die five minutes later.”

“You’re wrong,” Dean said, grinning his teeth.

“See you in five years, Dean.”

Number eight - Your last chance to negotiate,
send in your seconds see if they can set the record straight
They won’t teach you this in your classes,
but looks it up, Hamilton was wearing his glasses
Why? If not to take deadly aim?

It’s him or me, the world will never be the same.

“Hello, Emily,” Castiel said, appearing next to her in the car and making her swerve onto the wrong lane for a second.

“Jesus Christ, Cas!” she yelled. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to come back to Kansas City,” the angel said. Emily frowned. “Dean needs your help.”

“He what?” Emily said. “No he doesn’t.” Castiel looked at her, then at the map that was folded on the dashboard. He took it and opened it. Damn it to her for marking her way out in red.

“You’re running,” Castiel said. “Why?”

“Look, I- I- I don’t know what to do with Dean, okay? He’s not okay, he’s- he’s not fine and I do not know how to help, I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to do it, because I don’t know how and he doesn’t want me anyway.”

“That’s not true,” Castiel said. “He finds great comfort in your presence.”

“Okay, that’s just a lie,” Emily looked at the angel. “Cas, what the hell is going on?” Castiel took a deep breath and looked away.

“Zacharia is trying to convince him to say yes to Micheal by using you.”

“Yeah, which is why I am running, so they can’t put it against each other,” Emily explained, her hands tightening around the steering wheel. Castiel shook his head.

“Do you think you and Dean will always end up fighting? That there is no hope?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Emily said. “I think we will, because it's been seven years, Cassie, and everything keeps getting worse!”

“You need to turn back,” said the angel.

“Okay, but then what? I get back there, he’s crying, what do I do?!” Emily asked. When she looked where Castiel used to be, nobody was there.

Number nine - Look him in the eye aim no higher, summon all the courage you require, than count
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight nine

“Hey,” Emily said, entering the hotel room. Dean was sitting on the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. “Are you-”

“Zacharia showed me what happens if I keep saying no to Micheal,” Dean said. Emily stopped walking and looked at him. “And it was- it-” he rolled his eyes, which were getting watery, and sniffed. “We need to call Sam,” he said.

“Yeah, okay, I-” Emily frowned. Dean walked towards her. “Sure, if- if-”

“Listen to me,” he said. Emily crossed her arms. “No matter what happens, don’t change, okay? Even if you think it's for the better or you think it's going to fix something, it won't, okay?” Emily frowned. “I'm dead serious.”

“Dean- what- what did you see?”

“Us,” Dean said. Emily bit the inside of her cheek. “Sam’d said yes, and we- we- were still fighting, and you- you-” Dean hesitated. “You were different, man.”

“Were you?” Dean looked at her and then away, tapping his finger on his thigh.

“No,” he whispered. “Not really.”

That night, they met Sam in a parking lot. Emily stepped out first and walked towards him.

“Hey,” he said. Emily took a deep breath. She could move on, she knew she could. He’d paid long enough. After all, him and Dean had forgiven her for opening the gates. She should have done the same.

“Hey,” she smiled. “Long time no see.”

“True,” Sam said. “How you guys doing?” he asked, pointing at Dean, who was also stepping out of the car.

“Getting by,” Emily said. “Sam, look- I’m- I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay,” Sam answered. “You were angry, it happens, all I care is that we can be back the way we were.”

“Yeah,” Emily smiled. Dean stood next to her and put his hand in his pocket. “I’d be happy to.” Dean handed Sam Ruby’s knife.

“If you’re serious about wanting back in,” he said. Sam nodded and took the knife. “You better not be too rusty.”

“Thanks,” Sam smiled, looking away. Dean sighed.

“Look, man, I’m sorry, okay? I was wrong, What I said? Stupid,” he said, putting his hands on his waist.

“So you- you both changed your mind?” Sam asked. Emily and Dean looked at each other. It was rare for them to agree on something, but Emily was glad it was happening for once. Having Sam back felt right. She needed her best friend back, even if she would never admit it.

Number ten, paces, fire

With Sam back, Emily thought things would change but that wasn't the case. She constantly felt like walking on eggshells, stressed, on edge. She hadn't seen or heard from Ramiel in a long time, and she was starting to think he could be dead. Last time she saw him, he said he was running out of grace and couldn't run for much longer. She'd tried calling, but nobody ever picked up, which couldn't be good. Then one day she went to sleep and found herself in the flower field. Ramiel wasn’t in sight. She called him, but her voice echoed in the field, unanswered. After looking for Ramiel for a few minutes, she noticed something was off. Instead of the usual flower scent, she was smelling blood. She called the angel again, but no voice came out. She turned, and the flower field was gone. Instead, it was a forest. Dark, no path in sight, and silent. The blood smell grew stronger with every step, and soon, she couldn’t see where she was going anymore. She tried calling again, but still, no sound came out. She took one more step, and the ground made a sound. It was wet. She looked down, and it was blood. She woke up screaming. Sam entered her room two seconds later.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily looked at him and dried her face from the sweat. “What happened?”

“I- I think Ramiel needs help,” she said, standing up. Sam frowned. Emily rolled her eyes. “He- he has this place, okay? It’s like a flower field, and usually he’s there too, but this time- it- it-”

“Okay, go back a second,” Sam said, following her down the stairs. Dean, who was sitting in the kitchen with a beer in his hand, stood up. “What flower field?” Emily looked at Sam, then at Dean, then at Bobby, who’d rolled himself in the kitchen as well, attracted by the screams.

“There’s- there’s this flower field, okay? And when- when I’m panicking or- I don’t know, freaking out- Ramiel brings me there and we- we talk, okay?” The trio looked at her, confused. “What?”

“So you… you and Ramiel, I mean, you-” said Sam.

“What, no!” Emily complained. “It’s- I said we talk, okay? But this time he wasn’t there, it- it was weird, and-”

“Weird how?” Dean asked, hands on his waist.

“It smelled like blood and then it- it turned into a forest and it was- it was full of blood, so- so- I think he’s trying to-”

“Sweetheart,” Bobby rolled closer to her. Emily sighed. “Do you think it’s possible you- you just had a nightmare?” Emily looked at Sam, then at Dean. They were looking at her like she was crazy.

“Look, I know him, okay? And this- this wasn’t a nightmare!” she said. “I could smell it, you- you don’t have the sense of smell when you dream!”

“Actually-” Sam tried to correct her, but Emily turned around and walked out of the kitchen and towards the library. “Where are you going?”

“Look, I’m gonna find out where he is and go help him, you can either make yourselves useful or- I don’t know, leave me alone!” Emily walked into the library and looked through the shelves. There had to be a way. There had to be a spell, and chances were she’d read it somewhere in there. Bobby rolled himself into the same room as her, toppling over a pile of books and cursing. He went around the books, stopped in front of a bookshelf, and then stopped.

“Up there,” he said. Emily turned. “Last shelf, brown book.” She walked over to him and grabbed the book. Sam and Dean were standing outside the room.

“At least someone’s trying to help,” she sighed. She opened the book and placed it on the table. Bobby rolled next to her and turned it to a specific page.

“Locating spell,” he said. “Can you two handle a supply run or what?” he asked, grabbing a piece of paper. Sam and Dean tried to say something. “Look, she says he’s in trouble, he’s in trouble, you don’t get a say in this.”

“What do you need?” asked Dean. By the time he’d said that, Bobby had already written all the ingredients on the piece of paper and handed it to him.

Emily paced back and forth in the room waiting for Sam and Dean to come back from the supply run. Bobby looked at her from the opposite corner of the room, where he was stacking the books he’d toppled over earlier.

“Something on your mind?” he asked.

“Why won’t they believe me?!” she asked.”Like- I don’t question their stupid calls, do I? I just- I just go for it, because if they say one thing, I just-”

“You’re right, sweetheart, but you have to admit- you’ve been- you know, stressed.”

“So you’re saying I’m making it up?” she frowned.

“No, I’m saying it actually might have been just a nightmare,” Bobby said. Emily scoffed. “Look, I’m not saying it definitely was, but you’ve been through a lot.”

“Yeah, which is why I know this isn’t just a nightmare!” she yelled. “Jesus- why can’t any of you trust me?!” She walked out of the library and towards the stairs.

“Wait a damn second,” Bobby tried to say while Emily started walking upstairs, where he couldn’t follow her.

“Is it so much to ask to just have someone in my corner? Just for once?!”

When Sam and Dean came back, she opened her door and rushed back down. She could hear them argue about whether it was a nightmare or not. She felt her blood rush faster, and entered the library. Sam stopped talking and turned, looking as guilty as a kid found eating chocolate past hours.

“Get out,” she said. Sam tried to complain. “You made yourself very clear, you don’t believe this is real, fine!” she yelled. “I’ll do it myself, I don’t need your stupid approval!” she pushed past Sam and Dean and opened the plastic bag. Either her brothers or Bobby left the room. She assembled the spell following the book Bobby had left open, and waited for the spell to point to a place in the map. She took note of the location, then turned around and looked for her backpack.

“So?” asked Dean as she walked towards the door. “Where is he?”

“None of your damn business, okay?” she said. “I’m doing this alone.”

“No you’re not,” said Bobby. Emily scoffed and walked past him. “You-”

“Good luck following me, Ironside,” she said, opening the door and grabbing the Impala’s keys off the console. She walked towards the car, Sam, Dean, and Bobby all going after her. Dean caught up with her. “Leave me alone, Dean,” she said.

“I’m not letting you go by yourself,” he said. “Give me the keys.”

“Don’t worry,” Emily scoffed, entering the car. “I’m not gonna scratch your precious car.” Dean blocked the door before she could slam it close.

“It’s not the car I’m worried about,” he said. Emily rolled her eyes, then pushed the door with her shoulder, making Dean fall to the ground, slammed it close, and drove off.

The way from Sioux Falls to North Port, Michigan, was long. Almost a thousand miles, a distance for which anybody, Dean included, would have wanted to stop to sleep, or have someone to swap with halfway. But Emily didn’t have the time. She knew Ramiel was there and she knew he needed help. She could feel it. Her phone rang nonstop for hours, to the point she just turned it off to make it stop. Dangerous as it was, if they wanted to help they could have done it earlier. The same cassette kept playing on repeat, she didn’t care. She could barely hear it. Why would they not believe her? What kind of person could do something like that? Fine, she was stressed, and she’d had weird nightmares before, but she never once called a shot if she wasn’t sure about it. They were just assholes. All of them. And she’d be better off without them anyway. Without them, she could actually do whatever she wanted. She could actually decide what was the best course of action. Emily parked the Impala half a mile away from where the map had pointed her. She grabbed her backpack just in time to see a car park behind her. No fucking way. Sam walked out of the car and then to the hood of the Impala. He grabbed his duffle out of it.

“I have to give it to you, kid,” he sighed. “You drive fast.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Emily asked. “I don’t need your help on this, I can handle it.”

“Maybe you can,” he sighed. “but you’re still not going in alone.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that look, I’m trying to help, okay?”

“I don’t want your help!” Emily yelled. Sam ignored her.

“I didn’t just drive thirteen hours straight to get yelled at, okay? I’m here, deal with it!” Emily looked at him and sighed.

“Fine,” she said. “It’s that way.” Emily walked towards the house, Sam following a few steps behind. Just as she was about to enter from the backdoor, she heard something coming from behind her. She turned, ready to strike, and saw Ramiel.

“Sam,” she called, going towards him. The angel was lying on the ground, lifeless. He had a pulse, which meant he was alive, or at least, the vessel was alive, whether Ramiel was alive was another story. The angel grabbed her wrist, waking up alarmed, just to let her go the second he saw her.

“Scusa,” he whispered, trying to get up. “I thought…” Ramiel looked around. “They're still here. They're going to take him.”

“What? Who?” Emily asked, turning towards Sam.

“The prophet. They're going to take him, I have to stop them,” Ramiel said, standing up.

“I- I thought Chuck was a prophet, what-”

“Chuck's not cooperating,” Ramiel explained. He dragged his arm on his vest, cleaning from the blood. “Kevin Tran's next in line to become a prophet, and the angels want him.”

“For what?!” asked Sam.

“I don't know,” Ramiel said. “What I do know is that I managed to stop them- just temporarily.” Emily looked at Sam. “They're gonna be back, and there's going to be a fight.”

“We're here now, we're gonna stop them,” Emily said. “Together.”

“Amore, it's not going to be easy,” Ramiel said. “They're gonna kill us all.”

“Not if we get ready,” Emily said. “We can use enochian, can get rid of them, get the prophet out.”

“The prophet cannot know we're here,” the angel said. “He needs to be protected until it's time.” A light turned on inside the house. “Hide,” he whispered. “Now.” Emily took cover inside a bush next to where Ramiel was lying just a minute before. The light turned off. “They’re coming.” Just as Ramiel said that, a few other angels appeared in the backyard. They were holding the prophet. He couldn't have been much younger than Emily, and he did not look at all like a prophet. More like a high schooler whose biggest concern was piano classes. Kinda like Emily used to look. He was protesting loudly, trying to set himself free from the angels. Ramiel came out of his hiding and leapt towards the angels, trying to free the prophet. Emily did the same, and saw Sam preparing an enochian symbol on the ground. She had to resort to her powers, but she was able to free Kevin from the angels. He ran back inside his house, screaming, while Emily and Ramiel were left to fight. One of the two angels pinned her down, holding a blade to her throat. She was pushing his arm away, but it wasn't enough, with or without her powers.

“You're an abomination,” he said, the blade inching closer to her. “How da-” A blinding light flashed, leaving no trace of the angels, Ramiel included. Emily could only hope he was able to zap away before the spell came to fruition. When she looked up, the prophet was looking at them through the window. Sam gestured at her to leave, and she followed him to the car.

“You were right,” Sam said, sitting in the driver's seat. Emily frowned. “You could handle it.”

“Yeah, of course I can,” she said. “I'm not a kid anymore, okay? I- I can take one single gig by myself.”

“That's not why I came after you, tho,” Sam said. “I just wanted you to help, since I didn't- you know-”

“You didn't believe me so you came after me?” she asked. “Why don't you try believing me once in a while? Maybe you wouldn't have to drive a thousand miles in a stolen car.”

“You're right,” Sam said. “Sorry.”

When they arrived back to South Dakota, Bobby welcomed them with the news that Dean was gone. He’d packed a few things and disappeared overnight without telling anybody. Emily looked at Sam and swallowed.

“You're thinking what I'm thinking?” she asked. Sam nodded. “So, he's gonna say yes to Micheal, wh- how do we find him?”

“You think he might be going to see Lisa?”

“No, uh- I don't know,” Emily said, wearing clean clothes and stuffing the dirty ones in her backpack. “I- He's been talking about what happened in Kansas City, maybe- maybe he's there, looking for Micheal?”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. Emily shook her head. “Okay, let's locate his phone, we’ll have better chances at finding him,” Sam sighed and took his laptop. He opened it, sat on her bed and started typing while Emily finished packing. “Got him, he's-” Sam raised his eyebrows. “Wow, seriously, Camp Chitaqua, Kansas City.” He smiled at her. “You were right.” She dove her hand into Sam’s pocket and stole the keys to the car they used to go around Sioux Falls.

“Hey!” Sam complained, following Emily down the stairs. “You’re not-”

“Sure I am, we’ll get there faster!”

“Yeah- that’s because you drive like a maniac!” Emily and Sam went through the house and towards the car. Sam tried to prevent her from entering the driver's seat by body blocking the door. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “You took the last shift,” he complained. “Take a couple hours, then we'll switch.” Emily looked at him, took a deep breath, and surrendered the keys.

“Do you think we’re still in time?” she asked, the Impala barreling down the road. “Dean still Dean and not… Micheal?”

“I hope,” said Sam. “I’ll try calling him again, give me your phone.” Emily lifted her hips from the seat to get the phone and handed it to Sam. Dean didn't answer, and Emily and Sam stayed in silence for a few minutes. Sam opened up his laptop and started looking for possible motels where Dean could have been hiding.

Soon, they were in front of their first pick, and recognised one of Bobby's trucks parked in front of it. Sam went to ask the front desk and came back with a room number. Emily knocked on it.

“Yeah?” Dean's voice asked from behind the door.

“Housekeeping,” said Emily, not even trying to hide her voice. Dean opened the door and rolled his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you were-”

“In Michigan?” Emily asked, raising her eyebrows. “Well, we're back. What are you doing?” Dean looked away. “You're not planning what I think you're planning, right?” He bit the inside of his cheek and didn't answer. Sam sighed. “I can't believe you!” Emily yelled. “Jesus Christ- you- you- selfish- I- I- I don't-” she tried to come up with insults, but her voice started to break. “What the hell is your problem?!”

“I don't know, listen,” Dean walked to a glass of liquor that was resting on the table. “I-”

“No, no-” Emily complained. “I'm not listening to anything!” Dean took a sip from the glass without looking at her. “Is this how you want it to end?!” she asked. “You getting drunk and then calling it quits?!”

“I guess,” Dean sighed. Emily looked at Sam. Can you fucking do something?! Sam sighed and took a step forward. Dean put down his glass next to an unfinished letter. Emily dried her face and refused to accept it was addressed to her as Dean folded it and put it in his pocket. She had to have misread it.

“Just…” Sam sighed. “Come back. Bobby is working on something.” he said.

“Oh, really? What?” asked Dean. When Sam didn’t answer, Dean pointed at him. “You got nothing and you know it.”

“You know we have to stop you,” Sam said. That's when Emily realized they needed help. She turned around with the excuse of drying her face, and grabbed her phone. She texted Castiel.

Come now, Dean's gonna do it

That was all she could type before turning back towards Dean, and hoped the angel would understand. And he did. Just a few seconds later, as Dean was pacing towards the liquor again, Emily heard a flutter, and the angel appeared behind Dean. He touched his shoulder and he turned alarmed. A few seconds later, they were all back at Bobby's.

The second Castiel teleported them back home, Emily left the room and went sitting on the couch. She stared at the point where Bobby and Ellen had stood, years before, waiting for Dean and her to speak to each other. She still remembered it clearly: the feeling of hopelessness she had felt when she felt Sam die in her hands. How it felt like nothing was ever going to be the same, and how Dean was never going to forgive her.

How much his words hurt.

“You am not your brother.”

And in the end, she was right, nothing was ever the same. She was never able to look at Dean and not think about those words, ever again. The couch lowered on her left side. It was Dean.

“What do you want?” she asked, moving a few inches away. Dean sighed and didn't answer. “I can't believe you'd do something like that.”

“We’re out of options,” Dean said. “Nuclear’s all we got left.”

“Yeah, and? Side with the bad guys?” she asked. “You know it never ends well.”

“And you'd know,” Dean whispered, opening a beer on the edge of the table. “You know, none of this would have happened if you didn't-”

“I think I paid more than enough for what I did,” Emily said. “Don't you?” Dean looked at her and stood up, going towards the door. “You told me not to change,” she said. Dean stopped walking. “Why? What did you see?”

“Let it go, Emily,” he said. Emily sighed. “It's over anyway.” Dean walked out of the room and Emily was left alone. She'd always been right. Nothing was ever going to be the same. She and Dean were not siblings. They'd never been, and they never would be. The only way they'd be able to stop fighting was if they never saw each other again.

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory

Emily walked to Sam and sat down next to her. He looked at her like he knew already. Like he knew she'd been thinking of saying yes to Lucifer.

“Of course I already knew,” Sam said. Emily sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Why would you do that?”

“Dean's right,” she said. “About- about everything, and-” she took a deep breath. “I know if I don't, you will, and there's no way the world’s wide enough for both Dean and me.”

“Emily, if I do it, I can actually overpower him,” Sam said. “You know I can.”

“I'm not letting you,” Emily said. “You're not drinking that shit again, and you're not- how are you going to overpower the devil himself?”

“I can,” Sam said. “Trust me.”

“There's no way I'm letting you kill yourself like this,” Emily said. “And Dean won't either. Me, on the other side,” Emily raised her eyebrows. Sam sighed. “He won't bat an eye if I do it.”

“Don't worry,” Sam said. “I'll talk to him.”

“Sam, you're not doing it,” Emily answered. “You two deserve to keep living.”

“Emily, I am telling you, I can overpower him, I can send him back to hell.”

“No, I-”

“I can!” Sam repeated. “It's our only real chance, okay? You do it, he's gonna take control, there's gonna be a war.” Emily bit the inside of her cheek. “If I do it, I might be able to stop all of it.” Sam smiled. Emily looked away and stood up. She walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. It was the end of the world, anyway. She could get drunk about it. Sam followed her and grabbed himself a beer, too. He was right. Of course he was right. The golden boy was always right. And sure, the odds were against them, but he had a higher chance of actually stopping the damn apocalypse.

“Sam, promise me you'll make it.”

“Emily,” Sam sighed. “There's something you need to know.” Emily turned to look at it. He had that look. The one people have before delivering catastrophic news. “If I make it, I'm not coming back.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I can take control of Lucifer, He's going into the Cage, and I'm going with him. I'm not coming back.” Emily closed her eyes. That was how it was going to be. There was no version of her future where she wasn't left alone with Dean.

I see it coming do I run or grab my gun or let it be

It was another day, and Emily laid in her motel room, alone, thinking about the fact that just a few hours later, her life would have changed. Again. It was either Sam overpowered Lucifer, or the end of the world. Either way, she was going to be alone with Dean. Again. That couldn't end well. They were going to leave the motel in the morning to collect as much demon blood as possible. As Emily let out a shaky sigh, she heard a fluttering sound, typical of angels. “What the fuck do you want, Cas? Can't you see-” She turned and stopped talking. It wasn't Castiel. “Ramiel?!” she asked. After saving the prophet, Emily had never heard from him again. She'd assumed the worst, since they'd used an Enochian sigil that killed angels. Ramiel looked at her, smiling. “I-” Emily stood out of her bed and walked towards the angel. “I thought you were dead,” she said. “Jesus, you really need to learn how to send a text.” She stared at him for one more second before throwing her arms around his shoulders and hugging him. Ramiel placed a hand on her back.

“I missed you too, Amore,” the angel said. Emily sighed and pulled away.

“What happened?”

“I have been running, Emily. But they’re closing in on me,” the angel explained. “I need to come clean to you.” Emily frowned. “In case I don't make it to tomorrow.”

“What do you mean in case-” He caressed her cheek and Emily froze under his cold touch. How long has it been since someone had touched her with even an hint of affection? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “What's going on, Miele?” Ramiel moved his hand away with a sigh.

“When I said I pulled you out of hell because heaven had work for you- I lied.” he said. Emily frowned. She was trying to answer, but the angel kept talking. “I know this is going to be hard for you, but I couldn't die without telling me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked. “You said I had to stop the apocalypse, you said- you said I was the only one who could stop Micheal!”

“I know, and I- I'm sorry, I- I-”

“The only reason I put up with this shit show is because you told me I had a purpose!” she yelled. “I- I thought I had to save them- the world or whatever!” Ramiel took a step back as Emily raised her voice.

“And you are,” he said, gentle. “You didn't need to be predestined, you-”

“Ramiel, you lied to me!” she yelled. “Why?!” The angel looked at her for a second and took a deep breath. Emily raised her eyebrows. Things started to make sense. The fact he was wanted by heaven. How he always treated her differently. He was kind. He cared. The fact he built the flower field and he kept her safe. The nicknames. It was all making sense. “Say it,” she said. “I need to hear it from you, I- I need to hear that you're really that stupid!”

“They’re not going to do anything to you,” he said. “It’s me they want.” Emily crossed her arms and turned away, dragging her hands through her face. There was no way she had to fucking give the “you're just a friend” talk to a god damned angel. There was no fucking way he'd brought her back from death because of that. That was stupid, even for Ramiel. And it meant everything she'd fought for since coming back was a lie. There was no fate tying her to the end of the world. No big godly plan for her. She was just a girl. Back from death. With nothing left to live for, since Sam was going to be dead by the following night.

“Ramiel, listen-”

“Don't worry, Amore,” he said. “I know how you feel.” She frowned. “See, I have visited thousands of different realities, I know how this conversation goes.”

“Ramiel, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I- I just don't do love, you get me? I- It's- It used to be a just sex thing, but- you know, nowadays it's- it’s hard to-”

“Emily,” Ramiel said. “I wouldn't ask you to do anything.” Emily sighed. “I just needed you to know the truth.”

“Ramiel, you- you- you helped me,” she said. “You saved my ass- countless times, but you- you lied to me, all this time.” Ramiel took a deep breath. “Why wouldn't you just tell me the truth from the start?”

“You wouldn't have done all the great things you've done this past year,” the angel said.

“Like what? Like- run from Dean? Or- I don't know- Get Jo killed? Bobby's in a wheelchair and- what good have I done exactly?!”

“Emily, you're saving the world,” Ramiel said. “Tomorrow, you and your brothers will fight against Lucifer himself, and you will-”

“You really think Sam's gonna make it?!” she yelled. “He's not going to be strong enough, and it's going to be a fucking mess! And me and Dean are probably going to fucking kill each other!” Ramiel frowned. “So no, I don't think I've done any good, ever! All I do is fuck stuff up, it's always been that way!”

“Remember when you and Dean tortured Alastair?” the angel asked. “You helped your brother.”

“I almost got him killed,” Emily said. “I-”

“Zachariah was responsible for that,” Ramiel said. “You did good. What about Sam, you forgave him, right? And the prophet, you saved him.”

“That's a random guy I’ll probably never see again, I- that doesn't make a difference!” Ramiel looked at her and chuckled. “What?!” Emily asked. “What's so funny?!”

“Emily, you see yourself through your father's eyes,” he said. “Try to look at yourself through your mother's.” Emily crossed her arms. Maybe he was right. Maybe John's words had stuck with her more than she'd thought. Her mother would never tell her the things John used to tell her. She'd never do the things he'd done. But her mother would have never allowed her to become a hunter. She wouldn't have been proud. She'd be disappointed.

“Sam's going to die either way,” Emily whispered. “It's too late now, and I- I can't do anything about it!” Ramiel took a deep breath. “And you made me think- you made me think I could!”

“Emily, you can,” Ramiel said. Emily walked away and towards the door. “I don't have much time.”

“Good!” she yelled. “Ramiel, you lied to me! You- I thought I had a purpose, but I don't! I'm just- I'm just- just-”

“Emily, God doesn't give you purpose, you do,” Ramiel said, walking towards her.

“Okay, then maybe I just don't have one!” she yelled. “And to think I trusted you!” Emily walked past Ramiel and back in the middle of the room. “I should have known it was going to bite me in the ass!”

“Emily-”

“No, no, I should have known better! You're just like them! You're a liar, and you- you use people, to get what you want!” Emily yelled.

“I have not used you,” Ramiel said. “I rebelled for you, and I am going to die for what I did!”

“I never asked you to do that!” Emily yelled. “You chose to do that, and for what?! Just for the chance of- what? Some sex with me? A- a- a relationship that's going to end with me dead and you living another couple thousand years?!” Ramiel looked away. “What is your endgame, Ramiel? What exactly is your goal here?”

“I wanted to try and give you the life you deserved!” Ramiel said. “I wanted to-”

“You wanted me, and you were going to do anything to get me!”

“I wanted to save you!” Ramiel said. Emily looked at him for a moment. He'd stepped closer to her, just a step dividing them. Last night on earth. Chances were, they weren't going to survive it anyway. She could have used the distraction. Okay, you know what, fuck it. Emily stepped forward and kissed Ramiel. It wasn't exactly a gentle kiss. It wasn't romantic. And whatever followed, Emily was sure it wasn't going to be romantic either. She didn't do romance, she didn't do love. Ramiel knew, and he knew how to adapt. But there wasn't going to be anything after that kiss, because as Emily was walking backwards towards the bed, her hands wrapped in Ramiel’s vest, it disappeared from her fingers. When she opened her eyes, Ramiel was gone.

If I throw away my shot, is this how you'll remember me?

As she was still standing, her hands still mid-air where Ramiel’s clothes used to be, someone knocked at the door. She dried her face, trying not to think about the fact Ramiel was dead. They'd caught up with him, and there was nothing she could do about it. Sam was on the other side of the door.

“Hey,” she said, clearing her voice. Sam looked inside the room, confused.

“Am I- uh-” He frowned. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” Emily lied, swallowing her tears and letting Sam inside the room.

“We need to talk about something,” he said. Emily sat on her bed while Sam sat on a chair. “It’s about Dean.” He looked at her and scratched his neck. “Look, I- I- I made Dean promise not to bring me back and to go live a normal life. I need you to promise me something else.”

“Sure,” Emily said. “Whatever you need.”

“I need you to not go with him,” Sam said. Emily sighed. Sam knew as well as she did that what had happened last time he died would have happened again. “Just- move to wherever,” Sam said. “Go back to school, go to college, but…” He trailed off. Emily sighed again.

“Just not with him.”

“Ya,” Sam sighed. Emily looked at him and nodded.

“I’m gonna miss you, Sammy,” she said. “It's going to suck without you.”

“Don't worry,” Sam said, forcing out a smile. “I'm sure you'll forget all about me and live an amazing life.”

The following day, everything was ready. Gallons and gallons of demon blood were poured in several jugs that now sat in the Impala. Dean and Emily leaned on the side of the car while Sam was drinking. They hadn't said a word to each other all day. Emily didn't tell either him nor Sam about Ramiel, and she was trying not to think about it. Maybe he got away. Maybe he'd be back. Who was she kidding? Ramiel was dead. And it was because of her. All she could do was try to stuff it down, forget about it, turn it into a one time a year nightmare and then do what Sam told her: get away from Dean, be normal. Sam closed the trunk and started walking towards the street. Emily followed him and soon, they were in front of Lucifer. Their great plan of using the rings didn't go as expected. Lucifer knew what they were up to, but Sam decided to challenge him anyway. The door to the Cage opened, trying to suck in everything in the room and then some. Sam's body was on the floor, and just as Emily was about to give up hope, he moved and tried to stand. It took Emily a couple of seconds to realize she couldn't hear any of Sam's thoughts anymore. He was gone. When Dean rushed to help Sam stand up, Emily called him, but he didn't turn.

“DEAN!” she yelled. Dean looked at her for a second, and that was all it took. She shook her head, and Lucifer smiled.

“I’m just messing with you,” he said. “Sammy’s long gone.”

I'm running out of time, I'm running and my time's up, wise up, eyes up

Emily sat on the couch, absentmindedly staring at the tv in front of her. Dean was sitting on a chair, not far away. Castiel stood behind the couch and Bobby was leaning in the doorway.

“Reports are flooding in – a 7.6 earthquake in Portland, 8.1 in Boston, more in Hong Kong, Berlin, and Tehran. The U.S.G.S. has no explanation but says to expect a six-figure death toll.” said the reporter on the tv. Castiel was the one to break the silence.

“It's starting,” he said.

“Yeah, you think, genius?” said Dean. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Dean, come on…” Emily complained. “It’s literally the end of the world.”

“Do you have any brilliant ideas?” he asked.

“Other than being mean to Cas? Well-”

“That’s not what I-” Dean rolled his eyes. “How do we stop it?”

“May I suggest we imbibe copious quantities of alcohol and just wait for the inevitable blast wave,” said Castiel. Emily nodded.

“I’m gonna do it his way,” she said, standing up. Dean rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. “Dean, he's right. Sam was our only chance. We tanked it.”

“There has to be something else we can try!” Dean said. Emily looked at Castiel, then at Bobby.

“There isn’t,” said the angel. “Lucifer will meet Michael on the chosen field, and the battle of Armageddon begins.”

“Listen to me, you junkless sissy-” Dean moved a step towards Castiel.

“Dean!” called Emily, rolling her eyes. Dean ignored her and attacked Castiel.

“...we’re not giving up!”

“Dean!” Emily called again, and he finally turned towards her. “Nobody is giving up, we-” Emily sighed. “We just ran out of options.” Dean looked at her, angry and about to argue with her, but then he stopped. He looked at her and left the room, grabbing Sam's laptop from a table. Emily took the chance and left the room too, walking upstairs and to her room, where she found Castiel.

“I'm sorry about Ramiel,” he said. Emily looked at him and didn't answer. “If you-”

“No, I- I don't want to talk about it, okay?” she said. “Ever!”

“I know it must hurt,” the angel said. “But my time on earth has taught me that sometimes talking is good.”

“Yeah, well, I'm sure it works wonders with Dean, but I'm not him, so how about you leave me alone?!” she complained. Castiel disappeared. She closed her eyes. She had been trying not to cry all day. Sam was dead. Daniel was dead. There wasn't going to be any normal life, because the planet was going to be nuked by Micheal and Lucifer. She didn't cry that night either. And when the sun was just about to set, Dean knocked on her door.

“Emily, we're going,” he said. Emily frowned. “We can't let him die alone.”

I catch a glimpse of the other side

Emily came back to her senses after Sam had punched her repeatedly against a tree. She groaned, in pain, touching her broken nose. She felt the blood drying on her face, mixing with the fresh one, as the tree's cortex had scratched the back of her head, taking with it parts of her scalp with still some hair attached. She touched it and something opaque covered her fingers. That had to be her brain. How was she awake? There was not a single part of her body that was not screaming for mercy. She was able to open one of her eyes wide enough to see Dean, ten feet away from her, also being beaten down.

”S-” she tried to say, but a strong pain to her lungs and jaw stopped her. There was nothing she could do. Now unable to close her eyes back down, her socket growing more swollen every second, she had to keep looking as Dean took punch over punch. That was not how she imagined dying with her brothers was going to be like. The pain grew, she was going to pass out again. The last thing she saw was Sam's fist landing on Dean's face.

When her eyes saw light again, she was significantly less in pain. It reminded her of the moment she woke up after being brought back from hell. It was quiet. Really quiet. Above her were Dean and Castiel, who was moving his hand away from her forehead.

”Are you okay?” asked Dean. Emily sat up, trying to understand what she was feeling. She touched her face, no blood. Her clothes were clean.

”I think I'm okay, did-” She looked around, looking for Sam, Lucifer or any other sign of her brother.

”He jumped,” said Dean. ”We did it.”

He's with my mother on the other side

[...] Teach me how to say goodbye.

Book 2 - Wait For It

We rise and we fall and we break
And we make our mistakes
And if there's a reason I'm still alive
When everyone who loves me has died

I'm willing to wait for it

Overture

Emily put down her duffel in the motel. She looked around. The usual four walls, the usual two spent beds and the usual weird motel smell. That was going to be her home for an indefinite time. She looked again: that had been her home for years. Dean walked past her and sighed, throwing his own bag on the bed. He’d been awfully quiet since Sam’s jump. He was in pain, but he wouldn’t talk about it, in real Dean Winchester fashion. He’d look at Emily with those eyes she could recognize from harder times. And it was scaring her. So much she would think twice about talking, go over her words in her head a few dozen times before she spoke. She never wanted things to escalate again. There was a close call. Dean had gotten drunk a few days of travel back, and she said she could drive if he needed to rest. He got mad, almost in an instant, and yelled so hard her years started ringing. She just looked at him, frozen in fear, unable to react, until he walked away and drove off. She stayed at the bar, alone, knowing no one would ever go near her after seeing his brother act like that. No one in their right mind would make him mad. He came back four hours later and just texted her “im out here” from outside. At least he drove me back, she thought. He asked her to pick a city, and she said Chicago, where the winters are cold and Christmas is snowy. She rubbed her hands together as a little condensation dissolved in front of her mouth and then locked the door.

“You cold?” asked Dean. Emily shook her head.

“'m fine,” she said. “This is it, right? We’re gonna stay a while?” she asked.

“Ya,” he sighed. It was crazy how much stuff she’d lost or thrown away over the years. At some point in her life, she used to carry a dress with her. As she emptied the backpack on the bed, she counted three shirts and two overalls, both stained with blood on the bottom of the legs. “You know what?” said Dean, nervous. Emily looked back and he closed his bag back up. “We're gonna be here a while, it's best we get separate rooms.” Before Emily could compile a complete phrase, Dean had already left and slammed the door behind him. Emily stared at the closed door for a few seconds. She probably should have gone after him, right? But she was scared. So, maybe it was better that way. At least for the moment. She knew how to get some money to pay for the motel, and she knew how to live alone. She was an adult. Sam had told her not to stay anyway. She looked down at her phone. December. She’d turned twenty one and they didn’t even notice. She didn’t even remember what she was doing on her birthday.

She saw Dean a few times in the next few weeks: sometimes they’d meet at the vending machines, sometimes he’d knock on her door to ask if she wanted to get a drink. She usually said yes just for the sake of avoiding arguing. But then, nothing for a few days. And then it turned into a week. Emily knew she had to leave. She’d promised Sam she would, she owed him that much. But it never felt like the right time. She’d tell herself one more day. One more day, then she’d steal a car and be on her way. She just needed one more day to figure out what to do, where to go. Then, after seven one-more-days, a knock on her door at three AM. She questioned whether to open or not. She could definitely get away with pretending to be asleep. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened. Dean frantically entered the room. It almost looked like someone was following him, so she grabbed her gun and looked outside both ways before closing the door. He sat on what, the day they arrived, was supposed to be his bed.

“Can I stay here?” he whispered. Emily nodded. Dean kicked away his boots and threw them in a corner. Emily waited for a few seconds, gun in her hand, for some sort of explanation.

“Are you-” Emily hesitated. Dean didn’t look her way. He stared at the floor in the middle of his socks. “Are you not going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Can I stay here or not?” he asked. His tone masked the crack in his voice pretty well, but not good enough. Emily sighed and nodded. She put her gun away and walked to the coffee maker. She poured Dean a cup of coffee and handed it to him. He looked at the cup, but not at her. When he reached for it, Emily saw his hand shake. She took a step back and decided not to ask anything else. Just as she was about to start planning a way out, a way to leave him alone to calm down or whatever it was he needed, she remembered - there was nobody else. Sam couldn’t save her ass anymore. He couldn’t step in and do it for her. Dean held his breath for a moment, his chest heaving up and down, and then coughed. Shit. Emily closed her eyes. She wasn’t half as angry as she used to be years before. Maybe she’d grown out of it, or maybe John was right: they just had to learn how to live with each other. Maybe Dean and her had learnt. Ish. What were the safe options? Dean surely wasn’t going to just talk it out. Or hug it out. He was probably drunk already, and he- crash. The mug fell to the floor and shattered, coffee spraying all across the room and on the not-so-white bedsheets. She looked at Dean’s hands clutching and then reopening, shaking visibly.

“Dean,” she said. He turned towards her. Why did he look terrified of her voice? Emily sighed and went to grab a towel from the bathroom. She put it over the shards, in between Dean’s feet. “Move your feet, you’re gonna get hurt.” Emily put her boot on the towel and used it to push all shards in a corner as Dean sat on the bed with his legs crossed. “Sorry, that was my only mug,” she said. “But there’s- uh- there’s a twenty four hour diner a few miles down. I can drive down there, g-”

“It’s fine,” Dean whispered. Emily shifted her weight between her left and right feet. It was not fine. Sam was dead: nothing was ever going to be fine again. Dean was not going to be fine, and she had no idea how to fix it. She never knew. She didn’t even know how to fix herself.

“I got some chips,” she said. “do you-”

“Emily,” Dean said. Emily looked at him and swallowed. One wrong word and it was going to turn into a revival of Bobby’s house. “Are you scared of me?” Emily didn’t answer. Dean stared in front of him and put down his feet from the bed. She cracked her fingers and then crossed her arms. She couldn’t say yes. But Dean would have known if she lied. Dean sighed, Emily’s silence giving away the horrible answer. He quickly dried his face.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just-” Dean finally looked at her and her voice died in her throat. He looked out of it. He looked like he was going to crumble at the first gust of wind. “It’s hard not to be.”

“Yeah, yeah-” Dean continued whispering, continuing on to mutter something under his breath. Emily didn't say anything. “How do I fix it?” Dean asked, looking away.

“Dean,”

“Just tell me,”

“I have no idea,” she admitted.

“Okay well, figure it out!” Dean yelled. Emily looked away and swallowed. She remained silent for a second, looking for something to say that made any sense at all.

“Sam said-”

“Sam doesn't get it,”Dean said. Emily looked away. To some extent, he was right. He never quite found the point. Maybe that was the point, maybe the point was that there was no point. Dean was right, Sam never understood. Of all things, he never understood what happened when he'd died, because he wasn't there. He didn't hear Dean crying, he never smelled the beer from feet away, he never had to pick up shattered bottles, and he never had to hear Dean say Emily wasn't his sister. Not once, Sam had to fight with Dean, who would slap him while being black out drunk and then forget about it. So, Dean was right. Sam didn't get it. Emily looked at the spot next to Dean on the bed. She could have sat there. Maybe. Or maybe not. She didn't move.

“It’s the past, Dean,” she said. Dean didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the floor. “We're fine.”

“Are we?” Dean asked. Emily didn't answer. “Because I'm drunk, and while I was coming here I- I-” Dean trailed off and stood up, pacing to the other side of the room, pinching his nose. “I thought that this was all your fault.” Emily looked at him. He didn't look at her, only at the floor or the ceiling. His chest bent forward for a second and then he went back to sitting on the bed.

“You should probably get some rest,” she suggested, trying to smile. Dean didn't answer. He looked in front of him, silent. Emily walked to her overalls and dug out the car keys. “I’ll go get something from the vending machines,” she said. She backed towards the door and left, the door closing behind her. Coward, she assessed with disgust. Can't you tell he needs you?! she thought to herself. She closed her eyes and for a second thought of going back in. Her hand hovered on the handle for a second. Would he have done it for her? No. And the last time she tried helping him she’d paid the consequences of something she had not done. Emily entered the car and drove to a bar.

Another week, another seven days of excuses. One more day. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow. I already paid the full week, it doesn't make sense now. So the two weeks turned into three, and the three turned into four. The pool hustling turned into bartending every night at a hunter bar called The Deer. And another month later, the motel turned into an apartment. Dean stayed at the motel, came to the bar every night. Emily knew he would never admit it out loud, but he was checking on her. He'd sit by the pool table and glance at her in between turns, but never talked to her. Not until that night. The bar was empty, most hunters had been long gone, whether they went to sleep or they drove to their next gig. Emily'd gathered her tips in her pocket and punched the ice machine to make it spit more ice. It made a depressing struggling sound and turned back on. When she went back to the front, Dean was sitting on one of the stools. There was a single other customer, an old man Emily knew as a regular, a certain Reggie. A Bobby-type man, always looking out for everybody else, never a smile. He looked at Dean from a distance.

“What can I get you?” Emily asked Dean, placing both her hands on the counter. Dean nodded towards the alcohol filled shelf behind her. “Gotta be more specific.”

“Whiskey's good,” Dean said. He cleared his voice and Emily reached for the whiskey, grabbed the closest glass, and poured around an inch of liquor in it. She slid it towards Dean. “How you holding up?” he asked. Emily didn't answer. She walked to the other side of the counter and towards Reggie.

“Hey Reg, anything else I can get ya?” she asked. The man shook his head. Emily smiled and walked back towards Dean. He’d placed a ten dollar bill on the counter. “It's fine, whiskey's on the house.” Emily said. Dean sighed, his lips tightening, and took back the money.

“Are you really not gonna talk to me?” he asked. Emily sighed and dragged a rag through the counter. “Seriously?”

“Dean, didn't you promise Sam you were going to be normal? Go all white picket fence and apple pie?” she asked. Dean shrugged. “What are you doing here every night hustling pool?”

“I need the money,” Dean said. “Motel isn't gonna pay itself.”

“How about a job?” she asked. Dean rolled his eyes. “Dean, you promised him, okay?”

“What about you? Didn't you promise?” Dean asked.

“I have a job, I have an apartment, I am living a normal life!” she complained. Reggie turned his head towards them, attracted by the arguing. “You're in here every night talking shop and scamming people out of their money, when you could be out there working in any car shop in the city!”

“You-” Dean frowned. “You got an apartment?” Emily nodded. “When?”

“It's a shoebox, I moved in last month,” she said. “But it's better than a motel, so… you know.”

“You… you didn't say anything,” Dean looked away, his glass still full in front of him.

“You're the one who insisted we took separate rooms,” Emily said, dragging a cloth over the counter. “I didn't think you'd care.” Dean looked at her, confused, “What?”

“Just- You know- I thought we were doing this together,” Dean said. Emily closed her eyes. Sam never told him. He didn't know what she'd promised. A promise she still hadn't been able to fulfill. Leave Dean, don't look back. He had no idea what Sam had asked her to do. When Emily didn't answer, Dean emptied his glass and stood up. Yeah, shit. Emily thought. He's gonna leave and you're never gonna see him again. Is that what you want?

“Dean,” she called just as he was about to open the door. He turned. “I meant what I said,” she said, swallowing. “The past is the past.”

“I know,” Dean said, walking back towards the counter. “But I get it, you don't wanna have nothing to do with me.” Emily looked at him and put a hand in her pocket. She moved the tips and slid a pen out of her overalls.

“If you don't mind sleeping in a shoebox,” Emily said, scribbling the address to her apartment on a napkin. “Spare keys are in the vent above the door.” She didn't know why she'd done it. It wasn't like she didn't want to keep her promise to Sam. But maybe Dean had changed. Maybe she'd changed. Maybe they were going to be okay, right? And it didn't have to be permanent, Dean could get his own place. Or they could get a bigger place. With actual doors and rooms. And maybe they could be normal once and for all.

Or maybe not. Two weeks later, Emily was already regretting ever giving her address to Dean. He was drunk. Perpetually drunk. Because Emily worked at night and Dean worked days, it was rare for them to be home and awake at the same time, but when they were, Emily felt like she was walking on eggshells. One wrong word and Dean'd get mad and yell, and then a second later he'd be apologising, he'd be saying he just wanted a normal life, but get mad if Emily tried to help or suggest anything. Caught her smoking weed? Wouldn't hear the end of it for hours, like alcohol wasn't just as bad. Then one day, two months later, everything changed. It all started after he'd come home at an ungodly hour, when Emily was sitting on the couch, Dean's bed sheets pushed to the side, playing videogames.

“Hey,” Dean said, walking past the TV. That was already weird, as he usually didn't speak to her. Not after a long night. “I- uh-” Emily paused the game and looked at him. “It's kinda hard to- you know,” Dean clicked his tongue and took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner one of these nights.” Emily frowned.

“Uh, yeah-” she said, confused. “I'm off on Wednesday, why?” Dean put his hands on his waist. “Are we…” Emily hesitated for a moment. One wrong move and the neighbours were gonna be on their way to call the police. “Are we celebrating something?”

“Uh,” Dean hesitated and looked away. “Kinda, yeah.” Emily frowned.

“Okay, sure, just…” Emily gestures towards him. “Does Wednesday work?” Dean nodded.

“I think, yeah, I- I'll let you know.”

Emily spent the following day thinking about the dinner. There was no way Dean had changed from one day to the other, so something had to be up. And what were they celebrating, anyways? Did he get a new job? Found a bunch of money on the floor? There was nothing worth celebrating in their life, not that Emily knew of. Wednesday came, and Emily spent her day off cleaning the apartment. Dean came back from work and rushed to take a shower. Emily folded Dean's bed back into a couch and vacuumed under it, until someone knocked on the apartment’s door. Emily frowned. The shower turned off.

“Shit,” said Dean from inside the bathroom. “Can you get it? I’ll be out in a second.” Emily put down the vacuum and went to open the door. Behind it was a man. Tall, muscular, dark hair, blue eyes. For an insane moment she thought it was Castiel, but then she blinked a couple of times and realized he wasn’t. However she'd seen him a couple of times around town, so he probably lived in the area.

“Can I help you?” Emily asked. The man frowned and looked behind her, confused.

“Sorry, is this apartment B forty five?” Emily nodded. “I'm looking for Dean.” The bathroom door opened and Dean walked out, closing a button on his flannel, hair still wet. “Oh,” said the man. “This is awkward, uh-” Emily looked at Dean, then at the man. “Sorry,” he said, looking at Dean. “I didn't realize you, uh-” he pointed to Emily, awkward smile disappearing and leaving space for disappointment. That was when Emily realized.

“Oh, no, we're-” Emily tried to say. “I'm not his wife, I'm his sister,” she explained. “Sorry, I didn't realise we were waiting for someone, I-” The man burst out laughing, relieved.

“Oh my God,” he said. “Yeah, of course!” He put a hand on his forehead. “He's talked about you like a thousand times.” Emily looked back at Dean, who was standing behind her. “Emily, right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “So, you must be what we're celebrating tonight, right?” Dean nodded. The man chuckled.

“So, well, adiós to formalities I guess,” said Dean. “Emily, this is Stephen, Stephen, this is Emily.” Emily shook Stephen's hand. “Sorry, I- I didn't realise it was this late, I’m gonna- uh-” Dean pointed to his hair. “I’ll be out in a second.” Emily let Stephen inside the apartment and offered him coffee. They sat at the small kitchen table.

“So,” said Stephen. “I heard a lot about you, Dean tells me you're basically an angel, letting him crash here after everything that happened.” Emily bit the inside of her cheek, trying to imagine what weird fake life Dean could have cooked up.

“Yeah, it's-” Emily hesitated. “He's family, you know? Gotta stick together.” Stephen nodded. “What do you- what do you do, Stephen?”

“Oh, I'm- I'm a surgeon,” he said. Emily looked up from her coffee, which almost choked her. “And I'm a professor at the university here.”

“Wow,” Emily said. “I- I was gonna go to pre med when I was younger, but then, you know…” Emily trailed off. Crap. Didn't think of a story. “So how- how did you guys meet?”

“Funny thing,” Stephen said. “I actually come to The Deer sometimes, that's- that's how we met.” Emily frowned, confused. “I- I used to be a hunter,” he explained. Emily's frown didn't subside. What the hell did he mean, a hunter? Like a hunter-hunter? Or a normal hunter?

“Oh, and, uh-” Emily hesitated. “What did you, you know-”

“Right, of course,” Stephen smiled. “Don't worry, I meant like you- you and Dean, a hunter-hunter. Not, like, animals and stuff.”

“Thank fucking God,” Emily sighed. Stephen huffed. “Sorry, I just wasn't- You know, I wasn't sure what you meant,” she said. “So you- you know? About everything?”

“About how you and your brothers stopped the damn apocalypse?” he asked. “Damn right I know, everyone knows.” Emily frowned. “Emily, you guys are like legends.” That explains why a bunch of people knew my name on my first day of work, she thought. And here I was, thinking I was too high to remember them. Dean walked out of the bathroom.

“Dean, did you know we're like- famous?” Emily frowned.

“Uh, yeah, apparently we are,” he answered. “You guys ready? We're gonna be late.”

Emily stepped back inside of the apartment with Dean following her a couple of steps back. Stephen's voice echoes in her head: Dean tells me you're basically an angel. He had to have made it up. After everything that happened. What the hell did he know? Was he talking about Sam? About what happened before Hell? After Hell? Did Dean go as far as to tell this random guy he liked, loved, whatever, that he'd used his sister as a punching ball? There was no way, right? Emily looked at Dean as he sighed and opened the fridge, looking for a beer. He crouched, his knees cracking in the silence of the night, as opened a button on his flannel.

“Did you like him?” Dean asked, handing her a beer. She took it and opened it using the edge of the counter.

“He's nice,” she said. “And I guess it's cool that he also used to be a hunter, right?”

“Right,” Dean said, walking towards the couch. He unfolded it and turned it back into his bed. He laid the bedsheets back down and sat on them.

“Dean,” Emily called, leaning on the kitchen to look at him. “How much did you tell him?” Dean dragged a hand on his face.

“Emily, he's a good person,” Dean complained. “You don't have to worry-”

“I didn't say he wasn't, I'm just- worried you made me look like some sort of martyr,” she said. “You told him I'm an angel?” Dean shook his head.

“I didn't use those words, I just told him what happened.” Emily shook her head and walked out of the kitchen. She entered her bedroom. “Emily, I know what Sam asked you to do,” Dean said. Freeze. No fucking way. Emily walked back out of the bedroom. “Which, you know, makes me wonder-”

“You're my brother, Dean,” she sighed. “And you clearly needed help, I wasn't gonna let you drown.” Dean looked at her and didn't answer, so she went back into her room and closed the door.

Act I

Who lives, who dies, who tells your story

from Hamilton

Life was normal, but Emily knew better than to trust it. She knew from experience life couldn’t be really normal for long, because hunting always came back to bite her ass somehow. She’d gone through it, every single hunter at The Deer had gone through it. Dean seemed better, at least on the outside, and Stephen seemed happy. To her, and anybody else’s, eyes, they were a normal couple. Nothing out of the ordinary. Eventually, Dean moved out of Emily’s apartment and went on to rent an apartment with Stephen. It was all fine. Until, as always, it wasn’t. It was a summer morning, and Emily’s truck had decided not to start. The dashboard would light up, and then the car would make a sad, dying sound and everything would turn off. She tried a few times, until the dashboard stopped lighting up. The sad demise of a battery that was no good to begin with. Emily had replaced it from another car Dean was about to call salvage on, and it was definitely not powerful enough. Emily sat back in the seat for a second. She had a few hours to spare before she really had to go. She meant to run some errands, but it looked like the only errand she would be running was changing the battery. Or at least, shocking it enough it would come back for one last trip before dying again. She hopped down the truck and locked it, then started walking towards the shop Dean worked at. With some luck, he would be working and able to give her another used car battery. She knew how to replace it, it was fine, she just didn’t want to spend money on a new one. One that probably wouldn’t have lasted more than a few weeks. She walked through the garage door and greeted the owner.

“Hey Greg, how’s it going?” she asked. The man frowned and threw a greasy towel over his shoulder.

“All good, listen,” he said, looking around. Another worker walked closer to them. “Is Dean okay?” Emily frowned. “We haven’t seen him this week, we were actually starting to worry.”

“What?” Emily asked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean- he’s been taking less and less hours so I figured he was gonna move on to another shop, but he hasn’t been answering his phone and that’s not like him,” Greg said. “So you haven’t heard from him?”

“Not in a couple of days, but he hasn’t said anything about a new job,” she explained. Greg and the worker looked at each other, worried. “I’m sure he’s okay,” she lied. “Maybe he’s just hung over somewhere.”

“You sure kid?” Greg asked. Emily nodded.

“Yeah, I- I’ll go to his house and tell him to get it together, don’t worry.” Emily hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. “Actually, do you maybe happen to have a car battery you could sell me? Mine’s drained.”

“Sure thing,” Greg said. “Is that for that ol’ thing you're driving around town?”

“Yeah, it’s- it’s a nineteen-eighty Ford Tough,” she said. Greg nodded and walked into the back of the shop. He emerged with a box.

“You sure you’re good putting this in?” he asked. “Got all the tools?”

“Sure,” Emily said. “I’ve done it a bunch now. How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house, kid, I was gonna throw it away tonight,” Greg said. Emily smiled.

“Thanks Greg,” she said. “I owe you a big one.”

Emily closed the hood of the truck and sat inside. She opened her laptop and tried to locate Dean’s phone. Good thing he hadn't turned it off, because what the hell was he doing in Louisiana? That was a long way from Chicago. Dean was not out drinking. She packed a few things from her apartment, called The Deer to tell she couldn't come to work for a few days, and started driving.

She walked into a run down building, gun into her hand, not knowing what to expect. Was Dean going to be alone? In trouble? Was it vampires? Demons? She had looked for Ruby's knife everywhere, but it had disappeared, which could only mean one thing. Dean had taken it when he'd moved out. She walked down the hall and started hearing some voices. She couldn't tell what they were saying, and she didn't recognise them. Then, Dean's voice. When she walked around the corner, she saw him and Sam. In front of them, facing away from Emily, a few men and a woman. One of them was holding Dean at gun point. Emily didn't hesitate. She loaded her gun and shot four times, one in the leg of each person holding her brothers at gun point. Scared, Dean put his hand on his gun too, but as the last person fell to the ground, in pain, he recognized her and frowned.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” he asked.

“Me?” Emily asked, walking towards the wounded people. “I had to call off work last minute to do this, you, on the other hand, haven't worked at the car shop in weeks!” She walked closer to him. “How long did you think you could hide this from me?” She forced a woman on her back with her foot and pointed her gun at her. “Who the fuck's this people?” she asked.

“Put the gun away, Emily, they’re our cousins,” Dean said. Emily frowned.

“Dad had siblings?” she asked. Dean shook his head. “Oh, your cousins, okay,” she said. “What about that one?” she pointed her gun toward an older man.

“That’s our grandfather,” Dean explained. “And you definitely didn't need to shoot them.”

“They were gonna shoot you, I wasn't gonna watch ‘em,” she said. “Besides, nobody's ever died from being shot.” Dean looked at her and frowned. Emily frowned too. “You know what I mean.” She put away her gun. “Care to tell me what's going on?” she looked at Sam and that's when she put two and two together. Sam, alive. “Wait, what-”

“We should talk outside,” Dean said. Emily looked at him and didn't move. She turned to Sam.

“Would it have killed you to call? Text? ‘Oh hey, by the way, I'm topside!’”

“Why would I?” he asked. Emily frowned. “You're n-”

“Okay, Sam?” Dean interrupted, stepping away from the wounded group, still complaining and groaning on the floor. “I'll handle this, okay?”

“I don't understand,” Sam said, looking at Dean. “We didn't need her, so I never called her.” Dean took a deep breath and put his hands on his waist. Emily looked at Sam and opened her mouth to complain, but then closed it again. Sam had something weird about him. There used to be some kind of background noise with him and with the telepathy. But it was gone, just like when he was possessed by Lucifer. She didn't say anything until they were outside the building.

“What the hell's wrong with him?!” Emily asked. Dean looked away. “What did you do?!”

“Sam,” Dean said, pointing towards the car. Sam sighed and walked away. Dean waited until Sam was out of earshot. “Sam has no soul.”

“What?!” Emily frowned. “What the hell did you do?!”

“It's not-”

“Why do I even bother with you?!” Emily yelled. “I can't believe you're doing this again! I-”

“Emily, I didn't-”

“I tried, okay? But this- this is just- You brought him back? Again? Seriously?!”

“I didn't-”

“I don't care if you didn't do a deal this time, you- how did you do it?!”

“I didn't!” Dean yelled. Emily scoffed. “We don't know why he's back and we don't know why he has no soul!”

“Am I supposed to believe you?” Emily asked. “So what? He just- popped out of the Cage? Alive and well?”

“I don't know, okay?” Dean said. “I- I- I didn't want to drag you back into this, not-” he hesitated, looking away. “Look, I know you care about him, and I didn't want you to see him like this.”

“Bullshit,” Emily said. “You just didn't want me around!” Dean shook his head. “I could have helped, okay? I-”

“Okay, you know what?” Dean said, putting his jacket back on and walking towards the car as well. “I didn't ask for this, I just wanted to protect you, but fine, have it your way!” Emily shook her head and left towards her own car, before she opened the door, she turned one last time. She could have said a lot of things, ask him to be careful, not to throw away the normal life they'd built, but then she looked at Sam. She couldn't compete. There was nothing she could have said. She sat down in her car and drove away. What the hell did he mean he had no soul? Was that even a real thing? Was that why he didn't have his powers? Emily still had hers, right? Later that night, she looked at her bag thrown in a corner of the motel room room and imagined it flying across. The bag slammed on the opposite wall and fell back down. Maybe Sam dying stripped him of his powers? It didn't happen to her, so that had to be because of the soul. The bag slammed against the wall again. And again, and again. Emily looked at it as it moved thanks to her powers, but it didn't feel as good as doing it herself. She stood up, grabbed it from the floor and threw it across the room.

When she arrived back home the following morning, all of the last few Dean's stuff he’d left behind were gone. Emily walked through the apartment looking for a sign. Something he'd forgotten, a note, anything that could tell her where they were. She found a note on the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna bring him back”

Dean didn't want to be found. Emily looked, and she used everything she had, but he changed plates, numbers and aliases, and disappeared. Emily’s life continued. Work, rest, cook, eat, repeat. At The Deer she never served the same face two nights in a row, hunters coming and going most nights, exchanging stories. Reg sat in his seat night after night, silently reading, drinking the night away. In a lot of ways, he reminded her of Bobby. She grabbed her phone and scrolled down to his number. She texted him. Emily here, hope you're all good. Hit me up if you're ever passing by Chicago, drinks on me. She went back to serving whiskeys to people who smelled like blood and sweat, a smell she'd felt so many times on herself it had stopped bothering her. Hunters would talk shop, sometimes she'd join in. Some of them had no idea who she was, and she'd hear some of them talk about the Winchesters, making up stories about helping them stop the damn Armageddon, and she'd chuckle behind the counter, nodding like she believed them. Emily locked up the bar a whole month after Dean's note, which she'd hung on the fridge. And then it was two months. And the three months turned into a year. She drove back home after her shift at The Deer. Another one exactly like the others, except it was Christmas. And if her first Christmas in Chicago, she'd spent trying to stop Dean from getting drunk, her second one she was going to spend alone. The house was cold, dark, and smelled like mold. Like it always did. The air vent hissed, letting ice cold air in the house. She moved the trashcan in front of it. Someone knocked on her door. She looked at her phone: it was three in the morning. Emily decided to ignore it and pretend to be asleep. She didn't make a sound as she walked across the kitchen and inside the bedroom. Her phone rang. It was Dean. Against her best judgment, Emily picked up.

“Dean?”

“Can you open the damn door?” said his voice. Emily walked back to the door and opened it. She hung up the phone. “You need to come home,” Dean said. Emily frowned.

“Why?” she asked. “I told you-”

“It's Bobby,” Dean said. “He's not good, Emily.” Emily looked at Dean for a long moment, then walked back to her room. Dean followed her in. “Come on, Emily, I know you-” Emily grabbed a bag from the floor and started stuffing her clothes in it. “Look, I'm sorry for how things went, okay? I shouldn't have lied to you, I-” Emily punched one last t-shirt in the bag and closed the zipper. She walked past Dean and waited by the front door. Dean frowned for a second, then walked out of the house.

“Get out,” she said. Dean walked out the door and Emily locked it, then stuffed the keys in her pocket. But she knew, at that moment, she wasn't going to come back if not to grab her last few things. There wasn't a reason, it was just a feeling. Maybe some reminiscences of psychic powers she hadn't used in a long time.

Dean parked the car by the hospital and Emily stepped out without saying a word. Either of them had said anything for the entire drive from Chicago to Sioux Falls. Emily walked into the hospital and Dean walked past her. She followed him to the elevator, and when the doors opened, she saw Sam. His eyes widened. He walked towards them.

“Where the hell were you, man?” he asked Dean. “I thought you were just getting coffee.”

“Yeah well, I wasn’t,” Dean answered. “What’s the news?” Sam sighed and looked at Emily.

“The doctors said we need to wait and see, but- he’s stable,” Sam said. Emily closed her eyes and dragged her hand through her face. “It’s- it’s good to see you, kid.” Emily frowned. He looked at her and moved one corner of his lips up. “I’m sorry about how things went down last time, I-”

“Is he in there?” Emily pointed to one of the rooms. Sam nodded and sighed as Emily walked past him and towards the room. The door was closed, but Emily could see inside.

“He’s going to be fine,” Sam said.

“What if he isn’t?” Emily answered, looking towards Sam. Dean was standing behind him, pacing around nervously. He looked at her.

“She’s right,” he said. “What the hell are we supposed to-” Dean stopped walking next to Sam. “What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” Sam sighed.

“I should have been there,” Emily said, walking away from the window. “I could have-”

“Kid, you couldn’t have done anything,” Sam said. Dean took a deep breath.

“You don’t know that,” Emily complained.

“Sam’s right,” Dean said. “I don’t know what I wo-” Sam turned around and Dean stopped talking to her. “You got an update for us doc?” he asked. Emily turned too, and saw a doctor standing a few feet away from her. She looked at Dean, who turned away for a second, dragged a hand through his face and then looked at the doctor again.

“Not really,” said the doctor. “He’s still stable, but we need to wait and see if the swelling goes down.”

“How long do we have to wait?” she asked. He looked at her, confused. “Sorry- Emily Reed.”

“Ah, Miss Reed. The hospital will want to talk to you soon,” answered the doctor. Emily frowned, confused. “Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer.”

“Well, he’s lasted this long,” said Dean. “That’s something, right?”

“Well, yes. Listen,” explained the doctor. “The bullet didn't shatter. Only one hemisphere of his brain was injured. These are all positive things.” Emily looked at Dean. He seemed to finally breathe, at least until the doctor said: “But I don't want to give you false hope here. He's far from out of the woods. Most of the time, cases like this-”

“Yeah, okay, we get it,” Emily said. The doctor sighed, his lips tightening.

“I’ll keep you updated,” he said. Emily didn’t have time to say anything to her brothers, because another man approached them.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt.” The siblings all turned. “Is one of you Emily Reed?”

Emily walked back to Sam and Dean nervously pulling on a strand of hair as the man quickly walked around them and disappeared. “What did he want?” asked Dean.

“Bobby’s organs.” When she looked at Sam and Dean, they were both confused, almost alarmed. “For, you know- the donor thing. Not for occult purposes.”

“Ah.” Dean nodded. He sighed and sat down on the nearest chair. He dragged a hand across his face. “What did you say to him?”

“I told him no,” she sighed. “He- He also said something, well- unexpected.” Emily said. Sam and Dean looked at her. She showed a stack of paper she had been holding in one hand. “Apparently, when Bobby lost the use of his legs, he-” Emily sighed. “He left me everything.” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked.

“Nope.” Emily turned the paper towards him. “Signed and notarized.” She handed the stack to Dean, who read it himself, more and more confused as he went. Sam started talking with a doctor and disappeared in another room. “What is everything?” Emily pointed at how high the stack was.

“I quickly went through it and it’s a very thorough list of all the storage, hiding spots, that one cabin we went to for your birthday- It’s- it's insane, that man owns like a cabin in each state.”

“And they're yours,” Dean said. Emily nodded. “Well we wouldn't have housing issues, that's for sure. Sam walked back to them.

“I’ve got an update,” he said, serious. “The swelling's down a little. They took him off sedation. Apparently, he- he started fighting his tube. So they pulled them out, and he's breathing on his own. Doctor said best case scenario.” Emily rolled a strand of hair in between her fingers.

“You say it like it’s not a good thing,” Dean said. “When are they gonna take out the bullet?” Emily looked at Sam, who didn't answer. She looked through the hallway and then at Sam.

“Give me your laptop,” she said. Sam walked to his bag, thrown into a corner of the hallway. He handed her the laptop and she sat down. “It's a hospital, I bet all their shit runs on the local network and has stupid admin level passwords.” Just like she predicted, she was inside the system in less than ten minutes. Then, all she had to do was look for Bobby's file. “Shit,” Emily whispered, Sam and Dean staring at her from across the hallway. She looked at Sam and swallowed.

“What?” Dean walked towards and took the laptop from her. He looked at it for a few seconds before handing it back to Emily. “What does this stuff mean?”

“They're not gonna take the bullet out,” she said. “It's, uh- his brain is too compromised.”

“Okay, so?” Dean said. He looked at Sam, then at Emily.

“I think we need to talk about this,” Emily said. “Like- for real.”

“Talk about what?”

“You know what!” Emily snapped. Sam looked at her and sighed.

“No, we’re not gonna have that conversation,” Dean said, eyes hard on her in a way she'd have loved not to remember. Emily looked at Sam, who was begging her not to cause a scene, and then started walking away.

“I'm gonna take a walk,” she said as she tapped the elevator button. Sam entered the elevator before she could close the doors. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“We need to talk,” Sam said. Emily put her hands in her pockets and didn't answer. “Look, we haven't seen each other in forever, I just wanted to-”

“You want to tell me why you didn't bother even sending one ‘i’m alive’ text for a whole entire year?!” she asked. Sam looked away. “Or- I don't know- how you got back? The whole ‘no soul’ thing?!”

“You're right,” Sam said. Emily scoffed. Of course she was right. You don't disappear like that for a year and then show up and barely say hi. “I should have texted you, but Dean-”

“Since when do we care about what Dean says?!” Emily asked. “When I went to hell you were the first person I wanted to see! Every time something bad happened- you were always the first one I wanted to see!”

“Emily, I-”

“What do I have to do for either of you to think of me first?!” she asked. Sam looked at her for a second, then reached for the stop button on the elevator and pulled it. The elevator stopped, making Emily take a step to the side to keep standing. “What are you doing?!” she asked.

“When I came back I wasn't me,” Sam said. “It's not that I put you or Dean first, I didn't put anybody first. I didn't have a soul, and that meant that I didn't have feelings. I didn't care for anything or anybody.”

“Okay, but then you got it back and-”

“And Dean told me you were happy,” Sam explained. “That you had your own life and that we shouldn't have fucked it up.” Emily scoffed at him and tried to restart the elevator, but Sam stopped her. “I knew if you knew that I was back, you'd have wanted back in, and I didn't want that for you,” he said. “I still don't.”

“So you weren't going to tell me about Bobby?” she asked. “Dude, he's-”

“That's not what I said,” Sam sighed. “I just- I don't know, Dean told me he would handle it and-”

“And you should have said no!” Emily yelled. “You should have been the one to drive to Chicago to come get me!” Sam looked at her, then scratched his nose.

“You're right,” Sam said. “Sorry, I was trying to look out for you.” Emily looked at him and shook her head. She knew he was lying, he'd just gotten way too good at hiding what he was thinking from her.

“I know,” Emily said, taking a deep breath and pretending to buy into the bullshit. “Whatever,” she whispered, restarting the elevator. “It's not like I'm gonna go back anyway.”

“Why not?” Sam asked.

“I work in a hunter bar and rent for an apartment that smells like mold,” Emily said. “I’d rather go back to Bobby's.” Sam looked at her and sighed. Emily frowned. “What?”

“Dean didn't tell you?” he asked. Emily looked at him, waiting for an answer. “It burned down,” he said. “It's gone.” Emily felt a lump go up her throat. She’d lived in that house for years. She'd considered it her house for a long time, and it was gone. She swallowed. “Sorry, kid.”

“I'll rebuild it, it's fine,” Emily said, pulling the emergency stop and making the elevator restart. “Haven't been saving all those tips for nothing.” Sam tried to say something, but she interrupted him. “You know, maybe Dean was right back in the day,” she said. “You can't get out of this life.”

Just another day

from Next to Normal

Emily entered the cabin and put down the groceries. Sam and Dean were still sitting exactly where she'd left them, staring in front of them like it could somehow bring Bobby back. He was gone, and with that, the last person that was always in Emily's corner. The only adult who had bothered being her parent after her mother died. He was gone, and she still has not stopped to sit down and mourn, not for a second.

Sam, how long do you think you two are going to sit there staring into nothing? Sam scratched the back of his neck.

You know, it would be nice if you sat down with us.

I can’t.

Why?

Someone has to keep this cabin a living place. And cook. And make sure Dean doesn't run out of beer or- I don't know, whatever he's drinking.

Emily, maybe you can fool Dean, but not me. He was like a dad for me, too, but you can't-

“Guys,” said Dean’s voice. Emily looked at him. “Can you cool it with the psychic stuff?” Emily rolled her eyes and put her jacket back on. She couldn't stand being in there for five more minutes. She had to get out before she snapped at someone and started a fight, and she was gonna have to go get her stuff in Chicago at some point.

“I'm taking the Impala,” she said, taking the keys from the kitchen counter. “I'll be back tomorrow.” Emily walked out of the cabin and to the car. It was a half hour hike, one she'd just done to bring the food inside, one she'd been doing basically every day, twice a day, for two weeks. Each step made her frustration grow more. How was it fair that she had to be the mother? They were grown men, they should have been taking care of themselves, what if she wasn't there? What if she'd gone back to Chicago? Were they going to starve? Of course not, one of them would have stepped up. And they couldn't do it then? They couldn't move their fucking asses off the couch and go downtown once in a while? She was supposed to be the kid. She was trying not to cry with all her body, holding her breath and sniffing and drying her eyes like the absence of tears meant she wasn't actually crying. Bobby was gone, his house was gone, she had to sign dozens of papers as his legal next of kin, something that - as much flattering it was that Bobby saw her so much like her daughter to actually make her inherit his stuff - she had not chosen. And she had to work through that, while going on food runs, and trying to make sure Dean didn't get too black out drunk and that they didn't get into a fight. Not in front of Sam, because God knows what he would have done if he ever saw Dean act like that with her. And she had no time to herself to sit down and just cry. Sam was right. She was having trouble coping. Maybe she didn't want to, because she didn't want Bobby to be dead. Everyone she loved seemed to suffer the same demise: a horrible, preventable death. Emily sat down in the Impala and put the keys in the ignition, and that was when she couldn't hold it in anymore. Away from everyone's eyes and ears, she could finally cry. She put her head on the steering wheel and let tears fall on her legs. Bobby had always been the only one in her corner. He was the one who taught her how to drive, how to shoot, and he was the only one who showed up to her graduation. He was the only one who ever had the decency to be some kind of parent to him, and he was gone. She was alone. When things were going to get bad, she wasn't gonna have anybody on her side. She'd be alone to fend for herself. She screamed to the top of her lungs, her voice echoing in the car. Why did it have to be him? Six billion people, and the ones that died bloody were always people she cared about. Someone knocked on the window and she shot her head up, scared. It was Dean. Emily dried her face and rolled down the window.

“What?!” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I-” Dean hesitated. “I was wondering if you wanted company all the way to Chicago,” he said. Emily frowned. “It's a long drive.”

“Uh,” she dried her face again. “Are you really okay leaving Sam alone?” she asked. Dean sighed and put both hands on the window.

“He's gonna be fine,” Dean said. “He's not the one who's been screaming alone in the car.”

“I'm fine,” Emily said. “You don't have to come with me just because you think I'm broken or some shit like that.”

“Never said that,” Dean complained. “Look, it's a long drive, someone should come with ya.”

“Dean, get back to the cabin,” Emily said, turning on the car. “Sam shouldn't be alone right now, it's not fair.” Emily tried to close the window, but Dean pushed it back down with his hands.

“And you should?” he asked. “Look, we can all go together, I-” Emily drove away, Dean's hand holding on the window as long as he could, until she was going too fast and he had to let go. She looked at him disappearing behind a bend and kept driving.

Emily pulled into the building’s garage and opened the door, then noticed the door was taking longer than usual to close. She heard a car pull inside, too, but didn't recognize it. It took her two seconds to realise it was Dean. He parked next to her and before she could get her bag out, he was already next to her.

“What the hell are you doing here? I said-” she said.

“When have I ever listened to you?” he asked. Emily rolled her eyes. “I'm just trying to help you.”

“I don't need your help, Dean, okay?” she said, walking away. “I just need to pack some clothes is all.”

“You think I'm here to carry boxes?” Dean said. “Look, I know-”

“Okay, how about you shut up?” Emily said. “You don't know, okay? You have no idea, you-” Emily hesitated and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to be left alone, is that so hard to understand?”

“Emily, I wasn't-”

“No you were! What's the goal here? Fight? Get me mad? Lie some more?” Dean shook his head. “You lied to me for months! I thought you were doing good, that you were with Stephen having a normal, boring life made of gay bars and picket fences and instead I find out you've been hunting all this time?” Dean bit the inside of his cheek and Emily walked up the stairs and up to her apartment. She shoved the key in and entered. Dean stayed behind a few steps, silent. Emily opened her closet and threw her clothes into the closest bag she could find. Dean stayed in the kitchen and put both hands on the counter. Emily glared at him and continued packing, ignoring him. She slammed the empty closet shut and moved on to the drawers.

“Shouldn't you take the night before driving twelve more hours?” Dean said. Emily ignored him. “Come on, you must be exhausted.” She looked at him and stopped emptying the drawers to ask him a question she'd need holding in for weeks.

“What the hell happened with Stephen?” she asked. Dean took a deep breath and swallowed. His hands clenched on the counter for a second. “He went back to the Life, didn't he?”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered. Emily sighed. She looked inside the drawer, took out a few more socks and threw them inside a plastic bag. “A werewolf got to him last year, when I met up with Sam for the first time.” Emily threw the plastic bag towards the door and did the same with the bag full of clothes. Settling down gave her space for way too much stuff that she was gonna have to get back to Montana one way or another. She opened her backpack.

“I'm sorry, Dean, but you know better than I do what this life does,” she said. “You never really get out of it, unless you die.”

“I know,” Dean said. “I told him he shouldn't have come, but he didn't want me to go alone.” Emily finished packing and put her backpack on her shoulder. “I got that,” he said, moving his hand towards the backpack. Emily rolled her eyes and gave it to him. She grabbed the plastic bag and duffel off the floor and opened the door.

“You stole that car to come over here, right?” she asked. Dean nodded. “I'll take the first shift.”

“Emily, we need to talk about something,” Sam said, approaching her and looking around. Emily frowned and lifted her eyes off her laptop for a second. The cabin in Montana was already an old memory, and she was working research on an old case for Dean, who’d been gone on a supply run. She barely looked at Sam and nodded, then went back to the news article, but Sam’s hand reached over and closed it shut. “It’s important.”

“Are you okay?” Emily shifted in her chair, put one foot up and looked at him.

“I mean,” he sighed. “There’s something you need to know before you- you- you find out the wrong way.” Emily frowned, then something caught her eye behind Sam. Someone was sitting on the couch and smirking at her, someone she knew very well. It was Lucifer. Before Emily could put her hand on her gun, stand up, or scream, Sam was already stopping her. “Yeah, exactly.”

“What is going on?!” she asked, alarmed. Lucifer started singing a show tune Emily couldn’t recognize, but then disappeared as Sam pressed a scar on the palm of his hand. “Sam, wh-”

“I’ve been seeing him ever since I got my soul back,” he explained. Emily opened her mouth to complain, but Sam kept going. “I know I should have told you, but it-” Sam looked away and sighed. “We had a lot going on after Bobby, and I didn’t want to give you more shit to think about.”

“How have you- Why didn’t I see it before?” she asked. “I can hear half of what you’re thinking throughout the day, I’d think Lucifer screaming in the damn room would be noticeable!”

“Have you never wondered what happened to the other half?” Sam asked. Emily frowned. “Look, I’m sorry, but it’s important you never believe anything he says, okay?”

“Why? What does he say?”

“He’s been trying to convince me I’m still in the cage,” he explained. Emily crossed her arms.

“I told you, Sammy,” said Lucifer, reappearing on the couch. “Only one way to get out of here.” Sam looked at Emily, who stood up. Lucifer made a gun out of his fingers and pretended to shoot at his head. Emily looked at him, then at Sam.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” she asked. Sam didn’t answer.

“Oh, oh, Sammy, she’s doing it again,” Lucifer whispered. “You know she wants to control you because she doesn’t want you to get out of here.”

“Is this what’s been going on?” Emily asked. “All day, every day?” Sam nodded. “Jesus fucking Christ, Samuel.” She grabbed his hand and pressed on the scar. Lucifer disappeared. “Does Dean know?”

“Yeah,” Sam sat down. “He’s been looking, but he can’t find anything.”

“Dude, like, no offense, but…” Emily took a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re not just having a mental breakdown?”

“I was fine before the visions started,” Sam said. “But it’s been so long, I- I- I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find something,” Emily said. “Dean is shit at research, I’m sure I’ll find something in Bobby’s books in no time.”

That had been the premise, but the reality was different. She’d spent a week going through Bobby’s books driving back and forth between storages, and had just driven back to Idaho with a dozen books in her trunk. When she got back was when things started to go south. Sam was starting to lose touch with reality, answering Lucifer and needing to be reminded that he wasn’t real multiple times a day, which made Dean nervous, which made Emily nervous. She was trying to read the books, but Lucifer would not shut up, ever, and he would not leave Sam alone. It didn’t take long before he started to talk to her, too. Emily knew he wasn’t real. She knew it was all Sam’s brain, but the connection with Sam’s brain was harder and harder to loosen as he got worse and worse. After twelve hours of reading books with noise cancelling headphones that barely did anything, Emily realized she’d been moving her eyes across the pages, but had actually been reading Sam’s book through his mind. She closed it, stood up, and said:

“I’m gonna go take a walk,” but her voice echoed twice through the room. She turned. Sam had said the same exact thing and had also stood up. She looked at him and walked out. She had to get away, she had to get out of his brain before it turned too bad, before forgetting which thoughts were his and which ones were her own. Sam followed her out of the motel, Dean still asleep, but while Emily grabbed her car keys and got into her truck, and Sam disappeared behind a corner. Emily drove out into a random direction, she wasn’t going anywhere, she just needed to get away from Sam. She ended up in a nearby town she hadn’t noticed the name of while driving. There was only one diner left open. Emily parked her truck and walked in, but was horrified to see Sam was there too.

“How did you get here so fast?” she asked. Her voice echoed in her head through Sam’s thoughts. “You were walking!”

“What?” Sam asked. His voice echoed too, and Emily shook her head, trying to focus on what was real. It was like their brains were microphones held too close to a speaker, sending feedback back and forth, and it was turning into high pitched noise quickly. “No, you were walking, I took the Impala!” Emily looked down at her car keys. They weren’t the keys to her truck. “How-” Sam touched his pocket and took out the keys to Emily’s truck. She looked at him.

“Okay, you know what?” she said. Sam said it too. “Stop!” she complained. But Sam complained, too. “This isn’t funny, okay? I’m gonna leave!” Emily turned and heard the scraping of Sam’s chair. Before she reached the door, she took some money out of her bra and handed it to the bartender.

“I haven’t served you yet,” she said, confused. Emily looked at the bartender, then back at Sam, whose wallet was also out.

“What do you mean you haven’t served me yet, I was just sitting over here,” he said.

“She wasn’t talking to you,” Emily sighed. “Sorry, I’m paying for his drinks.” The bartender looked at Emily for a second, shrugged and took the money over to the register. Emily walked out of the bar and turned towards Sam. “How about you don’t follow me?” she complained. “Stay here!” Once again, Sam said the same thing, their voices echoing back and forth in their brain. Emily closed her eyes and took a step back, a headache starting to settle in. She looked down at the keys in her hands, checking if they were still the Impala’s, and they were. She located the Impala in the parking lot and walked towards it. She didn’t hear Sam’s steps, and Sam was not in the car when she turned the engine on, so she drove away. When, five miles down the road, pushing the engine to its limits, Lucifer appeared in the car, it was with Sam.

“How did you get in here?” she screamed, struggling to keep the car straight. Sam put a hand on the steering wheel to help her, but Emily pushed him away. “I got into the car alone!”

“No, you walked away, I got into the car alone!”

“You drove to the bar with my truck!” Emily complained. Lucifer grinned in the backseat. “We’re not in my truck!” Sam frowned and Emily looked at the dashboard. That was definitely her truck. “If you drove away, how am I driving?” she complained.

“You’re not!” Sam said. Lucifer laughed.

“Shut up!” “Shut up!” Emily and Sam turned. “I’m driving!” Emily continued, looking down at the steering wheel, but it was gone. She was sitting in the passenger’s seat. “Okay, that’s enough, pull over,” she said.

“What?” Sam said. “Why?”

“Because I was driving, and now you’re driving, clearly either of us should be driving right now!” she complained. Lucifer leaned into the front seats to turn up the music. Next To Normal’s tunes screamed through the speakers for a second before Emily could reach over and turn the radio off. “Will you stop?!” Sam said the same thing. “Stop!”

“Emily, you haven’t been driving, okay? It was always me!” Sam turned towards her. Emily scoffed. “I’m sure, dude, I’ve been driving us since we left the bar!”

“I didn’t get into the car with you, dude! I drove away by myself, in Dean’s car!”

“Did you?” Lucifer said. Emily and Sam both turned to complain, and didn’t have time to turn back when the car crashed into a guard rail and everything went dark.

Emily lightly tapped Sam's shoulder as she saw Dean enter the room. He was visibly worried and he was accompanied by Doctor Kadisnki, who’d also visited her and had recommended minimal contact with her brother. Not that she'd listen to anything he'd say. She knew neither her nor Sam needed a shrink. Well, maybe they did, but not for the reasons they were in the ward. Police had found them wandering around the city, talking to themselves, about Lucifer, about hell, hallucinating being back, and then an ambulance was called, and soft restraints were put in place, and by the time Dean had found out where they were, they were already in ward six. Nurses said there was no car at the scene. No crashed Impala, and that nobody in any bar in a ten-mile radius had seen them. Which wasn’t a good look for trying to get out of ward six, since that was the story they remembered. Ward six was a weird place to be. There were no doors, no forks, no knives, no shoelaces. Everything was white, and had happy phrases on it that looked like they were copy-pasted from fortune cookies. You can do this, said every single mirror in every single bathroom. They'd sit in a group and talk about what was going on in their lives. Emily knew Lucifer wasn't real. Sam did, too. So they'd lie. Say everything was fine. But Lucifer would be sitting two chairs over, making fun of other patients like that one season of House, and he felt so real sometimes Sam and Emily would tell him off out loud, which again made their task of getting out of ward six more difficult. Once a day, they'd line up for meds. Exactly like that one season of House, which made Emmily think ward six was a whole hallucination of its own, and that maybe Lucifer was right. Maybe she was still stuck in hell. Sam told her not to take the meds, and for a while, she didn’t. But as days passed, and the perspectives of doctors telling them it was all a mistake and they could go back to Idaho became thinner and thinner, she stopped listening to Sam. Maybe meds could fix her, at least some parts of her. Maybe not all visions would be gone, but just enough to make her stop hearing every single sound in the ward twice: once with her ears, and once with Sam’s ears. Maybe they would make her stop voicing Sam’s thoughts by mistake. So, she tried them, and they made the world feel… better. There wasn't another word for it. Emily knew exactly what was out there, who she was, what she'd done, but with the meds it all felt more silent. Lucifer was still there, but it didn’t matter all that much. She could have a chat with him. In the two weeks she's been in ward six, she'd already made a new friend, which wasn't that usual. She usually hated making friends. Her name was Angel. Angel didn't want her meds, and that made her the perfect friend, because Emily was glad to take them twice a day. Angel’d hide them and then spit them out, then stash them in her room. When Emily’s own meds wore off, she'd go to Angel and Angel would give her more. So the world would always be nice and quiet, and she’d only hear things once. It felt like there was a coat of snow on everything.

“How you two feeling?” asked Dean. Emily looked at him and smiled. Dean frowned.

“You look worried,” she said before Sam could answer.

“You-” Dean looked around. “Sorry, what?”

“I said you look worried!” she repeated. “Oh, and Sam- Sam always says I should shut up, but I don’t think he’s right.” Dean looked at Sam, who turned towards Emily.

“I never said that!” he complained.

“Didn't need to say it,” she said, touching her forehead with her finger. The doctor looked at her and sighed.

“Emily, remember what we talked about yesterday?” he said. Emily shrugged. “You can't hear what people think.”

“If you say so,” Emily smiled. Dean frowned, confused. She leaned closer to Dean. “Sam thought it,” she whispered. He shook his head.

“Doc, can you give us a sec?” he asked. The doctor sighed, but then nodded and left. Dean looked outside the room for a second, then back at Emily.

“Emily- are you on drugs?” he asked. Emily shrugged.

“Okay, so, I made some friends down the hall and there this girl, Angel- she’s depressed or something- And she- she doesn’t want to take her meds, so she asked me if I wanted them, and I said-”

“Okay, dude?” said Dean, pinching his nose. “So many words are coming out of your mouth right now-” Dean hesitated and sighed. “You took stuff, just say that.” Emily looked at him for a second. Sam looked at her and sighed.

“Emily, please, don’t-”

“That,” said Emily with a satisfied smile. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Right,” he said. “I’ll find a way to help you too, okay?” Emily looked at Dean: he was being serious. She should look serious too. She pulled her eyebrows into a frown. “And while I’m out there, you don’t take drugs from strangers- or nurses, for that matter- what are you doing with your face?” he asked.

“This is my serious face,” she said. Dean raised his eyebrows.

“You keep an eye on Sam while I’m gone, you think you can do that?” he asked. Emily nodded.

“That’s gonna be hard given the circumstances,” said Lucifer from behind Dean.

“OH MY GOD!” yelled Emily. Sam winced and then rolled his eyes, while Dean put a hand on his gun before turning and seeing nobody. “Who are you?” Emily pointed to Lucifer. Sam swallowed.

“God damn, Emily, how many pills did you pop?” Dean asked, confused. “What the hell is going on?”

“Just enough,” Lucifer said.

“AND HE'S TALKING TO YOU!” Emily yelled again. Sam put his hand on her mouth.

“Stop-screaming,” he complained. Emily nodded and he moved his hand away.

“Sam, he's talking to Dean!” she whispered, pointing at Lucifer. Dean turned, confused.

“It's… it's Lucifer,” Sam explained. “He's here.”

“But-” Dean frowned. “Isn't she full of meds? Shouldn't the visions stop?”

“She's on meds, but I'm not, it's not visions Dean, it's radio interference,” Sam said. Dean looked at Emily again. “She played UNO with him earlier and keeps forgetting who he is.” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“How?!” he asked. Sam shrugged. “He’s not real!”

“Okay then- my brain played UNO with her,” said Sam. “I guess?”

"This is ridiculous. Emily?" Emily turned. “You said you had Lucifer under control,” he said. She frowned. “Next thing I know I get a call from this place, what the hell happened?”

“That’s Lucifer?” Emily asked. Dean rolled his eyes. “What? He didn’t look like that back in the day!” Sam and Dean exchanged a look that Emily didn’t understand.

“Dean, he’s in my brain,” said Sam. “And Emily is also, kinda in my brain.”

“So?” Dean asked, nervous.

“So it makes sense that as I got worse she also got worse.”

“I haven’t played UNO with anybody, by the way,” she complained. Dean looked at her and frowned deeper than Emily ever saw.

“Kid, can you stay quiet for a second?” he asked, dragging his hand through his face. “I’m trying to have a conversation here.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Dean, okay, look-” Sam took a deep breath. “I know you want to try and fix me, or us- or whatever, but I’m not sure you’re gonna find anything.”

“You don’t know that,” said Dean. “Can’t I just pull one of you two out of here?”

“You really think they’re going to let you? They found us talking nonsense in the middle of nowhere and we can barely understand what’s real and what’s not.”

“So what? You don’t want my help?” Dean complained. Emily crossed her arms and looked at Lucifer, who was staring at her.

“Staring contest?” she asked. Sam ignored her, but Dean pushed her closer to Sam so Lucifer was hidden behind him and she couldn’t see him. “Hey!”

“You see this?” Dean asked. “If I don’t find something-”

“Then I’ll die,” said Sam. “And when I die, she'll be okay.” Emily tried to open her mouth, but he covered it with his hand. “We knew this was coming.”

“No-” Dean shook his head.

“When you put my soul back Cas warned you-”

“Screw Cas!” yelled Dean. Emily tried to answer, but Sam must have caught the insults forming in her mind and covered her mouth with her hand. “Can you get fucking pissed about this?” Dean asked. “Can you?” He pointed to Emily. She looked at him and didn't answer, still trying to get a peak to Lucifer to win the staring contest. Dean sighed.

“Dean, I’m too tired to get angry. Look at me,” said Sam. “Look at Emily.” Dean shook his head. “You think she took the drugs because she’s being stupid? She’s took them because it’s the only way she would stop going crazy with me. She couldn’t take it anymore and honestly, I can’t either.” Lucifer started singing a random show tune Emily didn't know, but she tried singing along anyway. “This is what happens when you throw a soul into Lucifer’s dog bowl,” Sam continued. “There’s no cure out there. And the longer we keep going, the worse she’s going to get.” Dean looked at him and shook his head. He left.

The following morning, right after the nurses had finished their rounds and had moved to another part of their floor, Emily snuck out of her room and went to open Sam’s door. She hadn’t slept all night, meds had worn off, and so it had been another night spent trying to separate her thoughts from Sam’s, trying to not hear Lucifer doing everything to keep him awake while also not wanting Sam or herself to fall asleep because what Lucifer did in their dreams was far worse. Another night spent covering her ears with the pillow and crying, hoping that it would all stop. Sam’s thoughts were racing so much she couldn’t even distinguish them anymore, it was just a constant white noise of words and screams. As she walked through his door-less doorway, however, she saw he wasn’t in his room. She looked around. Maybe he was with a doctor? Sam’s visits were usually in the afternoon, after group therapy, so no. She turned to see if any nurse was walking around. There were none, but that’s when she saw the bathroom door and knew. Sam was in there, she could feel it. She could see the floor from Sam’s eyes. She walked to the door. It wasn’t supposed to lock, right? No doors locked in ward six. She pushed the door and entered. Sam looked at her, surprised. His watery, red eyes woke Emily up from her half-asleep state immediately. She closed the door behind her.

“Sam,” she said. Her voice came out coarse, almost like she had not drank any water in days- and she probably hadn’t. She sounded like she had a handful of gravel in her mouth.

“Maybe he’s right,” Sam said. “Maybe there’s only one way to make it stop.” Emily closed her eyes and fought against Sam’s brain to keep her own just long enough to answer.

“No, he’s full of shit, and you know it,” she said. “Now let’s get out of here before we get in trouble.” She tried to take a step towards him but her legs decided it was enough moving without ever sleeping and gave up on her. She tried to keep herself standing, but nearly hit her head on the sink. Sam looked at her. His eyes hardened as Emily struggled to sit on the floor. Emily slowly blinked and when her eyes finally focused again, Sam was retching over the toilet. “Sam, stop," She tried to drag her body towards him, but she felt heavy, she felt exhausted, overwhelmed by the choir of voices that Sam and her were sharing, by the nausea the insomnia was causing her, by the feeling of having just vomited getting to her throat even if she hadn’t. As she was thinking that, her body reacted the only way it knew, and vomited. She managed to reach the toilet too. “Stop,” She repeated, and heard Sam’s voice say the same. Emily looked back towards the door and there Lucifer was, leaning on the door. Then, she looked back at Sam and Lucifer was behind him. And just next to the toilet. Sam looked at her and winced. Emily looked down and saw she was profusely bleeding. But not really. It was all in Sam's head. At least she hoped.

“Sam, it's not real.” She looked at him. He was also bleeding. But not really. Or at least, not that she could tell. Sam didn't seem to hear her. He looked at her, terrified, crying, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. He seemed fully convinced she was dead. He kept calling her name and touching the point where she had seen her bleeding. Emily tried to stand up. Sam started pushing his body away from her.

“No, no- stop!” he said. But he wasn't looking at her. He was looking behind her. “LET HER GO!” he yelled. Emily managed to pull herself standing and stumbled into a nurse running into the bathroom. Another nurse joined and they pulled Sam up from the floor. “No, no- let me go!” he screamed, trying to set himself free from the nurses who were bringing him back to his room, restraints dangling off their scrubs. She walked to her room using the wall to keep standing and closed the door behind it. She sat on the hidden side of her bed and closed her eyes.

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not real. You’re okay. You’re safe.” She looked at the point were she had been bleeding from. It was clean. “Sam’s going to be oka-” The last syllable died in her throat. He wasn’t going to be okay. She had heard him think that before. She had heard him thinking it way too many times and it was becoming hard to understand whether he thought it or if she thought it. Was she going to be okay? Or not? Was she screaming for help or was Sam screaming for help? Emily put her hand inside her pillow, where she had hidden her stuff. For safekeeping and emergencies. Her pocket knife, her cigarettes, her phone.

There was only one way to know what was real and what wasn’t. She needed to feel something of her own, just once, something that wasn’t coming from Sam’s mind, something that she was sure was coming from her. She took the pocket knife and dug deep into her arm. She started bleeding. But was she bleeding? Really? Or was she not really bleeding? Emily cut again, frustrated.

“Something- just…” She whispered to her self. “I need to fucking feel something real!” As she started hitting herself with the knife, trying, to no avail, to feel some pain, she felt someone pulling her arm away from her. “No- no, let me go!” she screamed. The last thing she remembered was something puncturing her arm and then, she finally fell asleep. For a while. Not for long. She woke up back in her bed, her wrist covered in bandages and stuck in between two metal casts, still completely numb, and a chart calling for ‘partial tendon laceration subsequent from psychotic break’ hanging from her bed. Dean was sitting across the room, looking at her.

“You ruined your good shooting hand,” he said.

“Dean?” she asked, sitting up.

"Why do you look so surprised?"

"Because it's not visiting day, so- what are you…" Emily trailed off. Dean pumped his eyebrows. “You're not real,” she said.

“Big shocker,” he said. “Sam's not at fault this time.”

“Great,” Emily said. “Now I'm losing my mind.”

“Are you gonna do a routine?” Dean asked. That was a weird thing to say, even for Dean. “Or are you going to get five friends and sing Psych Ward Tango?”

“Are you-” Emily frowned. “Are you doing musical references?”

“Oh, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m so alive,” Dean sang with a smirk. Yeah, she was hallucinating hard. Dean quoting Next To Normal was unheard of. “And I feed of the fear that’s behind your eyes, and I need you to need me it’s no surprise, I’m aliiiiive, so aliiive, I’m alive!”

“Four times a week?” said Sam’s voice. “That’s a lot, isn’t it?” Emily turned to see Sam standing in her doorway. He was barely able to stand, but he was real, or at least, as far as Emily could tell.

“What the doctor recommended,” Emily said. Sam smirked.

“Why's Dean doing Next To Normal references?” he asked.

“That's not Dean,” she sighed. “At least not as long as that-” she pointed behind Sam, where Lucifer was waving, singing along to Roxanne from Mouline Rouge. “...is not Lucifer.” Sam didn't seem to follow her. “They're not real.” She explained. “They're our brains… slowly disintegrating.” Sam sighed and walked into the room. “And I really wish they would stop singing right now!” She looked at Dean, who smirked and kept signing.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “It's all my fault.”

“What? Sam, it's not-” Emily complained. Sam shook his head.

“Yes, it is- I should have kept my mouth shut,” he said.

“Sam, that’s not true, okay?” she said. Sam rolled his eyes. “We’re gonna be fine.” Sam didn’t answer. “Really.”

“You gotta know I don’t believe you, right?” Sam said, sitting down on the bed next to Emily.

“One of us has to,” she said. Sam crossed his arms.

“They told me what you did,” he said. Emily looked away. “A few more minutes and you'd have cut your hand out while I felt all of it.”

“Sorry,” Emily whispered. “I just-”

“I know,” Sam smiled. “Don’t forget the telepathy goes both ways,” he said. “Look what I stole from the kitchen.” Sam took a candy bar out of his pocket. “I bet this one doesn't have anything weird and definitely created by our brain in it.” He tried to pull it open, but couldn't. With a hint of frustration, he tried again, then placed the bar on the bed.

“So, did you hear from Dean at all? I mean- real Dean?” asked Sam, trying to change the subject. Emily shook her head.

“Nope. Radio silence,” she said, taking the candy bar and opening it with her one working hand and her teeth. She broke it in half. “Here, let’s share it.”

“Thanks,” he whispered, looking at it and biting the corner of it.

“You know, you can just give the delivery guy ten bucks to bring you extra candy,” she said.

“I’m f-”

“Dude,” Emily interrupted him. “I just saw you struggle to open a candy.”

“I'm not the one who almost cut her hand off,” Sam answered. “Look, I'm fine, seriously, it's not like I can skip lunch here.” Emily rolled her eyes and threw the candy wrapper across the room, attempting to put it in the bin. She missed. “Emily, you need to get with the program and get out of here.”

“You really think they would?” she scoffed. “Dude, I’m fucked up way beyond the visions, maybe I oughta be here.”

“You know we're gonna die if Dean doesn't find anything, right?” Sam said. Emily shrugged.

“He's not gonna let you die,” Emily said. “We should be fine.”

Emily’s phone lit up in the pillow cover, Dean’s name flashing repeatedly, but no one came to answer it. Just one room over, Emily was on the floor, hiding under Sam’s bed. She couldn’t escape. She was surrounded. He was everywhere. Lucifer was on everyone’s face. It had started two hours before. She’d woken up to Sam’s confused string of thoughts, not a single one of them making any sense and found him vomiting in the bathroom, or- trying to vomit. There was nothing left in him to retch, not food, at least. He didn't oppose any resistance when she pulled him away from the toilet or when she helped him clean his face and when she walked him back to his room. He just looked at her, almost in wonder, but didn't say a single word. She talked to him, tried to get him to say something, but it was like Sam wasn't there anymore, like he was just an empty shell. When nurses came around, that was when true Hell started in ward six. Everyone looked like Lucifer, and Sam screamed at every single person that dared to show up in the room. And even after they sedated him, the visions didn’t go away, and neither did Sam’s fear. He was just too drugged to scream or move. When even the last nurse was gone, Emily finally came out from under the bed, her phone vibrating for the tenth time in her room, the hallucination of Dean was leaning on the door. Emily ignored him and sneaked back to her room.

"Didn't you say just yesterday that you were gonna be okay?" asked Dean with a smirk, following her.

“Shut up,” she whispered, putting one hand in her pillow to look for a cigarette. “And yes, I did say that, we will be okay.” She forced the window open and sat across it, lit cigarette in her left hand, outside the window.

"You mean okay like all the people in Rent okay or…"

"STOP QUOTING MUSICALS TO ME!" she yelled. "YOU'RE NOT DEAN- YOU'RE- YOU'RE NOT EVEN REAL!"

"That's rude!” Dean complained. “I don't understand why you're so mad! I’m just trying to talk to you!”

"Well, don’t!” Emily hissed. She put both legs back inside, hoping no nurses had heard her.

“Why don't you just admit you were wrong and that Sam's situation is only going to get worse?!”

“Because he’s not going to die, okay? I know D-”

“Emily?!” She heard another voice, Dean’s voice. He appeared on the doorway with Castiel. Wait, two Deans? She didn’t think it would be possible for the visions to get even worse. She looked at the newly arrived Dean and at the angel.

“Which show is Take me or Leave me from?” she asked. Dean looked at her and frowned, and Castiel tilted his head slightly. Before Dean could answer, the angel spoke.

“You look terrible,” he said. Dean turned towards him and opened his mouth to complain. “Who were you talking to?” asked the angel. Emily crossed her arms.

“Answer my question,” she said. “Take me or Leave Me, which show?”

“I- I don't fucking know,” Dean said. “There's more than one musical?” Okay, he was real. “What's going on with you?!”

“Nothing,” she lied. “What are you two doing here?”

“Cas has an idea,” Dean said. “Don't worry kid, we're getting you out.” Emily nodded and threw the cigarette out of the window. She looked at the chair fake Dean had been sitting on, and he was gone. Emily looked at real Dean leave the room, still not one hundred percent sure he was real of if he was just another hallucination.

“So, you were saying?” Fake Dean was back on the chair, smirking. “Something about not wanting to admit Sam is going to-”

“Shut up,” Emily whispered.

Dean’s journal

March 14th, 2013

Haven't done this in a while, but Sam and Emily are sleeping (fucking finally) and Cas is gone, so I guess I'll just do this. I knew what I was going to see. With Sam, I knew exactly how bad he was, I knew he was going to look like shit. I was ready, more or less, to see him completely out of it. But Emily? I wasn't expecting what I saw.

Of course I knew about her cutting herself.

Of course I knew she was sharing Sam's visions.

But I never expected to see her talking to herself and starving. That was a surprise but it really shouldn't have. With Sam, it never even crossed my mind that he was going to die. I always knew, in the back of my mind, that he was going to survive this. Never doubted him for a second that he had it in him to survive. And it's not that Emily isn't strong, but it's like her head is full of darkness, all the time. Not a single happy thought in there. Which I am no stranger to. I know how hard it can be to have to live in it. I should have known this was going to happen. The fact that she's still alive is just proof that she's strong, because with her arms full of cuts and no food in her system, she looked like she should be dead.

And I did nothing to stop it. In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have let her stay there, I probably should have pulled her out and brought her home. She'd have been better and I wouldn’t have had to get a call telling mme she tried to cut her hand off. She wasn't going to like it, being away from Sam, but she's tiny enough that I could have dragged her out and, as a nice bonus, give her one more reason to hate me. It's not like going from one thousand to one thousand and one is gonna change anything. Also who the fuck am I to separate the Miracle Girls? More like Miracle Twins. Siamese twins or whatever it is they're called. The nurse said she tried to kill herself again, they called it psychotic break but I can put two and two together. Her arms looked rough, and she had bandage on her left wrist. I always think she would call me, but the truth is now that Sam is back, she would just rely on him. Not me. So what the hell am I even good for? They just need each other, certainly not me. How did it even start? I can't quite point to the moment I realized Sam had managed what I've been trying all these years. Maybe it was the telepathy? Maybe it was when they ran away and met Ava. Who the fuck knows. But somewhere along the line, Sam and Emily stopped being reluctant rebel siblings and started being best friends. And all I can think about is that I want to be in his place. I used to think I deserved to be in his place, because I was with her from when she arrived, because I tried harder than dad, because I was older. But when Sam died, I realized I'm no good at being a brother. I never hated Emily. I never wanted to hurt her, but looking at her was a constant reminder that he was dead, and I did the only thing I'm good for, which is hurt people. But it wasn't her I hated. It was the fact she wasn't Sam, even if she felt like she was. I wanted to protect her, like I protected Sam all my life, but she acted like she didn't need or want protecting. Which she did. She still does. Instead she acted like I was the one who needed protection. And that was wrong in any way possible. The fact she feels like Sam is just terrifying. It means when she dies, it's going to take everything in me not to fucking call it quits.

Which, when I think of it, is exactly what I did when she killed herself. I brought Sam back because being alone was terrifying, and by bringing Sam back I made sure I wasn't going to be around long enough to find out if having Sam would fix missing Emily. I spent three months regretting every detail of my life and every interaction I ever had with her. I never once cared that I was going to die, it just felt like I deserved it. I wanted to think that if I ever saw her again, I was going to try harder, do better. But I knew that was never going to happen. I had the chance, and I fucking blew it before it even happened. Hell happened. She knew. I knew. And when we both woke up topside, we both knew there was no coming back from that. I thought she’d leave, but she didn’t, which I can’t explain. What I did couldn't be fixed, couldn't be changed, and couldn't be forgiven. But Emily is strong in a way I never understood, and she stuck around. And in the end she even gave me the keys to her apartment. She gave me a normal life. Which of course I had to go and fuck up. Now she's alive, and she's back home. This is my third chance at being a decent human being. And I am sure I'm going to fuck it up.

Emily walked in the kitchen and opened a beer. She’d been out of ward six for a month, and she’d been back in the hunting life up to her neck. The briefcase they’d stolen from Dick Roman was still sitting on the table, the weird stone that they’d found in it and the mallet Dean had used to set it free still on it. Emily looked at it for a second, fridge still open, then Dean’s hand pulled the fridge door open and grabbed a beer for himself.

“Meg called,” he said, opening the beer. “Cas is awake.” Emily turned towards him. “Happened yesterday, right when we opened the damn thing.” He pointed to the table.

“Yeah, whatever this is, it’s important,” she said. “Is Cas okay?”

“I don’t know, listen-” he said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I know it’s supposed to be my turn to answer Bobby's calls, but-”

“It’s Cas, I get it,” said Emily. “You and Sam should go, I’ll handle the phones.” Sam walked in behind Dean.

“I can stay here if you want,” he said. “I’d really rather not go back there again.” Emily looked at Dean.

“What do you say?” she asked. “We haven’t been on a hunt alone for a while now.” Dean seemed hesitant. “Oh, come on, it will be fun,” she smiled. “We can go find a hook up without him being on our neck.”

“Hey!” Sam complained. Dean smirked.

“Okay, you know what?” Dean took a sip of beer. “Why not.”

Emily took the front seat and kicked off her shoes. Dean immediately followed, closing the door as he entered.

“What’s with always taking off your shoes?” he asked. “I don’t get it.”

“I grew up dancing ballet and contemporary, normal shoes and my feet don’t go along,” she explained. “Sitting in chairs normally doesn’t, either.” Dean nodded, switching out the tape in the car radio with another tape. Emily put the tape back in his box and the box back on the floor behind her seat. “So, how you doing?”

“Fine,” Emily crossed her legs on the seat and Dean started the car.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, hesitant. Emily nodded. “Who were you talking with when we came to see you in the hospital?” Emily closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat. She sighed.

“I mean-” She hesitated just long enough to get another curious glare from Dean. “It was you,” she confessed. Dean kept looking at the road, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel while Emily felt her stomach contorted. It felt wrong to tell him about it. Like confessing your love to your crush when you know he’s with someone else. Dean rubbed his eyes.

“I mean, that’s-” he sighed deeply and stumbled on his words a couple of times before forming a full sentence. “Does that mean I am to you what Lucifer was to Sam?”

“What? No!” said Emily, putting her feet down from the seat. “It’s hard to explain.” Dean shook his head and turned the music up. Emily turned it back down. “Lucifer was always torturing Sam, he was keeping him awake at night, making him see stuff, you- you were just there,” she sighed. “You talked with me and used musical theater references.”

“I did musical theater references?” asked Dean, confused. “Like what?”

“Like, Next To Normal references,” said Emily. Dean briefly looked at her, confused. “You wouldn't know it.”

“And I quoted this thing?” he asked. Emily nodded.

“Was getting kinda annoying to be honest.”

“I don’t talk about that stuff.” Emily crossed her legs back up and sighed.

“That’s the point, it wasn’t memories, it was just…” she trailed off. What were they? Not visions. Not memories. “I think you were my brain trying to keep itself from disintegrating.” Dean nodded. “What’s important is that it’s over.”

“Is it really?” asked Dean, nervous. “Because you don’t look fine.” Emily crossed her arm.

“I told you, I'm fine now,” she complained. Dean took a deep breath and changed lanes.

“I’m gonna have to trust you on that,” he said. Two hours later, he parked half a mile away from the hospital. They entered and walked to Cas’ room, where Meg was already waiting for them. Castiel turned around and smiled. Emily looked at Dean, whose frown had lifted off his face to leave space for something else. Emily didn’t have the time to think about what it could be, that the angel spoke.

“Pull my finger,” he said, pointing a finger to Dean. When Dean hesitated, Emily did the pulling herself, and all the lights exploded, together with a window. Castiel laughed, and Emily let out a breathy chuckle. Dean scowled at her.

“What?” she asked. “It’s a cool trick.” She moved a finger and used her powers to turn on a lamp. Dean scowl grew deeper. “Hey, it’s not like Meg is gonna freak out, right?”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “Cas, are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes. Of course,” said the angel. “Oh. Outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee.” he added. “I saw the route of flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add.” Emily looked at Meg, who shrugged.

“Been like this since he woke up,” she said. “Useless.”

“Look at her,” Castiel said with a smile. “My caretaker, all that thorny pain, so beautiful.” Emily smirked and looked at Meg as Dean scoffed.

“Oh, I see what’s going on,” Emily said. Meg rolled her eyes.

“I told you, no poetry,” she complained. “Put out or shut up.”

“Okay,” Dean said, putting his hands in front of him. “You woke up last night?”

“Yeah,” Castiel said, pacing back towards the window and sitting down with a smile. “I was woken up by a ping that pierced me.” Emily opened her bag and showed him the stone tablet.

“Anything to do with this?” she asked.

“Of course,” Castiel said. “You were the ones, I guess it makes sense.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “What’s that?”

“Because who better than you two to free the Word of God,” Castiel said, pushing away from the window and pulling Emily and Dean into a hug. “Oh, I love you guys.” Emily looked at Meg.

“You sure you didn’t sneak anything into his drink?” she asked. The demon shook her head. Dean was the first one to pull away from the hug.

“Alright,” he sighed, straightening his jacket. “So that piece of rock is the Word of God? What’s it say?” Castiel smiled.

“Did you know that a cat's penis is sharply barbed along its shaft?” he asked. Dean dragged a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “I know for a fact the females were not consulted about that.”

“Okay, Cas, I’d listen to your animal facts all night, be were kinda in a rush,” said Emily. “Can you take a look at this?” she handed the tablet to him.

“This is the handwriting of Metatron,” the angel said. Dean opened his mouth, but Emily interrupted him.

“No relation to the guy from Transformers, dummbass,” she said. Dean frowned and closed his mouth. “Isn’t he like the scribe of God?” she asked Castiel. He nodded. “Okay, so… what does it say?” The angel looked at the tablet for a few seconds and whispered a few words, then handed it back.

“It was not meant for angels to read,” he said.

“Okay, give me that,” said Meg. Castiel moved it towards her, but Dean took it. “Hey!”

“Back off, okay?”

“Oh, come on, Dean,” Emily sighed, taking the tablet from Dean and giving it back to Castiel. “You really think she’s gonna run with it?”

“Finally, someone who doesn’t treat me as a second class citizen,” Meg complained. “It’s my ass, too, you know?” she said.

“I said back off!”

“Jesus, Dean, w-”

“Don’t like conflict,” said Castiel before disappearing with a flutter. The tablet stayed behind and fell on the floor, shattering in three pieces. Emily looked at Dean and shook her head.

“Really had to do that, didn’t you?” she asked. He rolled his eyes and left the room. Emily threw the empty bag on the floor and started picking up the pieces and putting them in the bag. Meg handed her the last one. “Thanks,” Emily sighed.

“You really like to piss your brother off, don’t you?” the demon asked. Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, I get it. Demon blood and all that.”

“The demon blood has nothing to do with me and Dean,” Emily complained, standing back up and leaving the bag on the floor.

“Yeah, you say this now, but I remember when you threw me off that building just to show him you weren’t an idiot,” the demon said. Emily closed the bag and stood back up.

“That’s not what happened, Meg,” Emily said. “I threw you off that building because you were trying to kill us.”

“Don’t hold a grudge, Imagine Demon, I saved your ass this time.”

“Yeah,” Emily sighed and took her pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. She took out all the cigarettes and a plastic bag fell into her hands.

“What do we have here?” Meg asked, following Emily to the window. “I’m gonna guess your brothers don’t know about this.” Emily looked at her and shoved a pill in her mouth before lighting up a cigarette and holding it out of the broken window. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell them.”

“It’s just Risperdal,” Emily said. “Not like it’s going to do anything.”

“If it really didn’t do anything, you wouldn’t take it,” the demon said. Emily scoffed and looked back at the bag that she’d left on the floor, but it was gone. She ran outside of the room and saw a figure run away.

“Hey!” she yelled, running after the shadow and checking she still had her gun in her jeans. She ran out of the building, closing in on the thief, and tackled him down when she managed to catch up. Meg walked in a few seconds after and frowned. “Thanks for the help, by the way,” she complained. The demon rolled her eyes. Emily tried to take the bag away from his hands, but failed. The thief was holding it with both arms, desperately trying to keep it. When Emily moved away from the person, she was able to see he was a man. Scratch that. It was a fucking kid. “Who the hell-” A kid she’d seen before. “W- Kevin Tran?” she frowned. Kevin tried to escape. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Please don't try to kill me again,” he said, trying to shield his face with the bag. Emily rolled her eyes and stood up, dragging Kevin up with her.

“I saved your ass, dude, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t-” Kevin's eyes filled with tears and Emily slowly let go of him, looking at Meg. “Please, I- I- I'm in advanced placement, I need to take this-” Emily looked at Meg, then at the bag. The moment Emily’s hands were off Kevin’s shirt, he started to run again. Tired, Emily flicked her finger and used her powers to make him fall to the ground. Meg moved her hand and Kevin was dragged back to them.

“Not bad, Imagine Demon,” the demon said. “We would be a good team.”

“Shut up,” Emily sighed, grabbing Kevin’s shirt again. She looked at him. “I don't remember biblical artifacts being in my AP study materials,” she said. Emily raised her eyebrows, trying to take the bag back. Kevin frowned.

“You… in advanced placement?” he looked at her.

“Okay, a thief and also rude,” Emily said. “My bag, Kevin from advanced placement.” Seeing that Kevin wasn’t giving her the bag, she tried to get it from him with force, but to no avail. “Okay, I’m sorry but I don't have time for this.” Emily was about to punch him, but he tried running again. Emily held onto his shirt, making him fall to the floor, one arm stuck in a sleeve. He let go of the bag. “Jesus, you are the worst thief ever,” she said.

“Please, I have to keep it!” Kevin begged.

“Yeah, sure you do,” Emily scoffed.

“The voices. They said I-” he tried to say, but Meg didn't let him finish.

“You don’t even know what that is,” she said, interrupting him. Kevin shook his head. “Open the bag. Take a look.”

“You’re not gonna ask about the voices?” asked Kevin, confused. He slowly opened the zipper. Emily raised her eyebrows, her hand still wrapped around Kevin’s shirt.

“Do you want us to ask about the voices?” she said. Kevin looked at her for a moment, then took out two of the pieces of the tablet and moved them closer. The second they touched, they put themself back together with a glow “Oh,” said Emily, confused. “That’s-” She looked back at Meg.

“I think it’s better if this conversation continues inside.” the demon said.

“What’s leviathan?” asked Kevin, walking down the hall while staring at the tablet. Emily stopped walking, Meg bumping into her with a profanity.

“What did you say?” she asked, letting Meg through.

“It says here-”

“You can read that?!” the demon asked, walking around Emily. Kevin tightened his eyes.

“Kinda,” he said. “It hurts a little, but- yeah, it’s talking about leviathans and how they came to be.” Kevin swallowed. “God locked them up far away, like in jail because-” Kevin trailed off, fear dawning on his face. “They’re real, aren’t they?”

“Yeah-” sighed Emily. “And killing them has been kind of a pain in my ass, so- does it say anything about it?” Kevin tried to look at the tablet again, but he closed his eyes. “I don’t know- It’s hard to look at it for too long.” He groaned in pain. Meg touched Emily’s shoulder. When she turned, the demon’s eyes were black and a light flickered.

“Something’s up,” the demon said. Kevin noticed her eyes and screamed. Emily put a hand on his mouth.

“Jesus Christ,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “You’re gonna-” A woman appeared in the room. Judging from the way she was dressed, it was an angel.

“Step away from the prophet,” she said. Emily turned towards Kevin, who looked even more shocked than before.

“Me?!” He pointed at himself.

“Sole keeper of the word on earth-” Announced the angel. “We are here to take you.”

“What do you mean take?!” Kevin asked, trying to run again. Emily rolled her eyes and held him from his shirt again.

“He's not going anywhere with you assholes,” she said. Kevin looked at her, confused. The angel stared at Emily, then extracted a blade from her sleeve.

“Kill the demon and her lover,” she said. Five more angels entered the room.

“Lover?!” Repeated Meg, extracting a shining silver blade from her sleeve. Another angel appeared in the room and tried to hold her back, and Meg used the silver blade to get away, cutting him on the shoulder. The cut bled white light.

“Where did you get that?” yelled the first angel. Before Emily could react and use her powers, a light pervaded the room and the angels were gone. Emily turned back and saw Dean holding Castiel outside of the room, his hand pressed against an enochian sigil.

“Good timing,” Emily said, letting go of Kevin. She turned back to Meg. “You got more of those?” Before the demon could answer, Kevin started screaming, hugging the tablet bag.

“What is happening?!” he yelled. Emily rolled her eyes and hit the back of his head.

“Would you stop screaming?” she complained. “Jesus Christ-”

“What is…” Dean gestured towards Kevin. “...that?”

“His name is Kevin from advanced placement,” Emily said.

“Actually, my name is Kevin Tran,” he whispered. Emily took the bag from him. Dean looked at Emily, confused.

“He’s a prophet,” Emily explained.

“Alright, here we are,” Emily said, throwing her bag in a corner. Kevin stood outside the room. “Help yourself from the fridge, but mind the hotdogs, they've been here since 2005.”

“Is this a sex dungeon?” Kevin asked. Emily frowned. “This looks like a sex dungeon.”

“What- it's not a sex dungeon!” Emily answered. “So, I was saying, the hot dogs-”

“Those things on the walls, they look like they're-”

“This is not a sex dungeon, this is a cabin, and that's hunting gear,” Emily said. “What kind of porn do you- You know what? I don't wanna know.” she sighed. “Not a sex dungeon. Please, just-” Kevin stepped inside the cabin holding his bag with two hands. “Jesus, Kevin from advanced placement, loosen up, okay? You're safe.” She grabbed a pack of chips and threw it at him. He struggled to grab it and it ultimately fell to the ground with the bag. “Okay, makes sense,” she whispered. “Advanced placement and football usually don't go together.”

“What did you say?” Kevin asked, picking up the chips.

“I said you should eat something,” she said with a fake smile.

“I'm not hungry,” Kevin said.

“Okay, suit yourself,” Emily sighed. She walked to the fridge and opened herself a beer. He sat down at the table and opened the bag. He put the tablet down and stared at it. Emily leaned by the kitchen sink. Sam and Dean walked in.

“So, Leviathans, they’re… real?” Kevin asked, hands shaking over the tablet. Emily nodded. “And angels? With wings?”

“Yup,” she said. “They got junk, tho.” Kevin looked at her and frowned. “Oh, sorry, they’ve got a reproductive system,” she explained. Kevin rolled his eyes.

“I know what ‘junk’ means,” he complained.

“Okay, do you also know what all that means?” she asked, pointing at the tablet.

“Yeah, it’s- uh- it’s sort of a ‘in case of emergency’ note,” Kevin looked up from the tablet and at Emily. “What did they mean by ‘prophet’?” Emily sighed and scratched the back of her neck. Sam was walking towards the cabin. “I don’t want to be a prophet.”

“No, you don’t,” Emily said. Dean walked into the room.

“So, how you liking the old place?” he asked Kevin, walking around the table and grabbing a beer from the fridge. Kevin didn't answer. Dean looked at Emily, who shrugged. Sam walked in, too.

“Okay, I got some news from Cas,” he said. “Apparently, the angels want Kevin because he’s supposed to go to the desert to, and I quote, ‘learn the Word away from men’.”

“What?” Kevin turned, alarmed. “No, I can’t go to the desert- I’m applying to Princeton!”

“Pff,” Emily scoffed, hiding behind the beer bottle. Sam scowled at her.

“I get the sense you don’t like me,” Kevin said, looking at Emily. She shrugged. “What did I even do?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Advanced Placement,” Emily said. “Look, as long as you’re with us, you’re not going anywhere.” She looked at Sam. “Where the hell is Cas?”

“I’m here,” said the angel’s voice. Emily didn’t turn and kept drinking the beer.

“Can we count on you, Cassie Ferguson?” she asked.

“No, I don’t fight anymore,” he said. “I watch the bees now.”

“Okay,” Emily sighed and looked at him. “Any chance you could help us shelter God’s chosen one in your spare time?”

“Now I’m getting the sense you don’t like anybody,” Kevin said. Emily ignored him and opened a drawer. Next to some dirty forks, there was a jar full of chalk. She placed it on the kitchen counter.

“All the adults, get to work,” she said. “The kid needs a safe space to do his homework.”

Emily rolled her eyes, her fifth chalk breaking in half mid sigil, and grabbed another one. She finished the symbol and stood back up, stretching her back. Kevin was staring at the tablet, fingers tapping on the table.

“I’m gonna get some dinner started,” she said. “You like expired spaghetti-os?” she asked. Kevin didn’t answer. He kept staring at the tablet. “Talking to you, Advanced Placement.” Kevin still didn’t lift his eyes off the stone. “Okay, fine,” she sighed. “What would you like to eat, Kevin Tran, sir?” Dean walked behind her and hit the back of her head. She groaned, but Kevin seemed to be still ignoring her. “Kevin!” she called. Sam turned.

“Kevin?” he called. Kevin still didn't move his eyes off the tablet, fingers tapping faster and faster, until his fingers were just pressing on the table. Emily frowned and opened another beer. “Is he… okay?” Sam asked. Emily shrugged again.

“Okay, no,” Kevin said. “No, no, no, nope-” He looked at Emily. “You're telling me all this stuff is real?” Emily nodded. “Nope, no, sorry, just- no,” Kevin stood up, but stumbled back and fell off the chair. He stood back up.

“Oh please, tell me this is not what I think it is,” Emily whispered, throwing her head back. Dean looked at her and smirked. “It's so not funny,” she said.

“This is too much,” Kevin said, pushing the tablet away. “I- What happened to my life?” Kevin put one hand on his chest, his breath cutting short. “Word-keeper?” he said. “Fuck that, okay? I want to go home, I-”

“Kevin,” Emily sighed.

“No, no, I can't stay! I have finals in-” Emily rolled her eyes and looked at Sam.

“Care to do anything?” she asked. Sam looked at Dean.

“Don't look at me, I’m no good with people,” Dean said. “I doubt Bobby kept brown bags.” Emily looked at Sam again. “Also, you're the one who decided to bring him here.”

“What was I supposed to do?” she complained. Sam and Dean kept looking at her. “Seriously?” she whispered. “Okay, but don't come to me complaining.” Emily pushed away from the sink and walked towards Kevin, who was incoherently talking about finals, being a prophet, advanced placement, cello lessons, whatever. She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the shower.

“What are you doing?” Kevin asked, trying to fight back. Emily turned the water on. “Hey, no let me go!” he complained, but Emily shoved him inside the shower. With a scream, Kevin got covered in freezing water, which soaked his hair, then his clothes. He tried to close the tap, but Emily held his hands in front of him. “Stop! It's- It's cold- Stop!” A split second after, Kevin managed to drag Emily inside the shower and use the moment of distraction to get out of it himself.

“Fuck!” she yelled. Now also soaked in freezing water, Emily dragged Kevin back in the shower. “Jesus- stand still!” she said.

“No- I- It's cold!”

“Stand still!” She stopped him right under the freezing water and held him against all his struggles until- a few seconds later, Kevin started crying. Emily moved her now soaker hair off her face and saw Sam standing in the doorway.

Ever heard of just… talking to people?

What did I say about complaining?

Yeah, but-

It worked, didn't it? Looking at Sam, Emily pushed Kevin out of the shower and left the room.

“Can someone get him some fucking dry clothes?” she said, walking to the bedroom while dragging her hair off her face and shoving water off her sleeves. She slammed the door behind her and took off the wet clothes. Dean opened the door. “What do you want?”

“You sure you're alright?” he asked. Emily scoffed. “Couldn’t help but notice you're being kinda harsh with the kid.”

“Why?” Emily asked. Dean crossed his arms. “He's done being a kid, the quicker he learns how to handle this shit, the better.” Dean looked at her and shook his head. “What?! You said this shit to me like- a thousand times! And it worked, didn't it?!”

“Did it?” Dean asked. Emily wore a dry t-shirt and shook her head. “Maybe I was wrong, ya know?” She scoffed. Dean sighed. Emily put her wet clothes over a chair to dry.

“No you weren’t,” Emily complained. “Can you help me with the damned bandage?” she pointed to her wrist. “Wasn’t supposed to get wet.”

“Yeah, because you’re being super clean with it, right?” Dean said, opening a drawer and taking out a first aid kit. “Sit down.”

“You were right, by the way,” Emily said, dropping on her bed. Dean grabbed her arm. “About needing to get over it, about not ever getting out of this life- You and dad were right, all along,” she said. Dean shook his head. “So no, I don't think I was harsh with him, he's a prophet, he's deep to his neck into this, and chances are, and he's not getting out alive!”

“Yeah, maybe, but, you know-” Dean took a deep breath. “Does he have to live the rest of his life with you being an asshole?” he asked. Emily looked at him and tightened her eyes.

“Look who's talking,” she said, taking her arm back and grabbing the first aid kit from Dean’s hands. She stood up and walked across the cabin and grabbed her cigarettes off the table. She could have stopped on the deck to smoke, but decided to take a walk instead. She made her way about half an hour into the woods following the path that went from behind the house to a clearing with a bench. She sat down. At the bottom of the pack of cigarette pack were two things. Her last bit of weed, and her last two pills Angel had given to her before she and Sam left ward six. That girl must have been hoarding pills for months. Emily grabbed one of the pills and swallowed it. She took a deep breath: it barely made any difference anymore. She grabbed the weed and a cigarette. She emptied the cigarette in her hand, mixed it with the weed and then struggled to get it back inside. By the time she was done she heard some steps approaching her. She looked up, hoping it wasn't Dean, and was surprised to see Kevin.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his voice. He was holding a paper bag close to him. “Sam and- and Dean, they sent me to get you some dinner.” Emily frowned.

“Oh,” Emily said, reaching for the paper bag. “Why did they send you? You don't know where you're going, you could have gotten lost.”

“I don't know,” Kevin whispered. “They just said to come up the path.” Emily sighed and Kevin handed her the paper bag. She put it on the bench next to her. “Alright, I- I’ll go-” Kevin pointed back towards the path.

“What?” Emily said. “No, come on, it's getting dark, you're not hiking back alone, dude,” she complained. “I'm gonna be coming back in a while, just wait here for like- ten minutes.” Kevin nodded and looked at her. He stood in front of the bench, looking at it like the sole touch of it could set fire to the entire forest. “Dude,” Emily sighed. “You can sit down.”

“Okay,” Kevin stepped towards the bench, moved the cigarette pack out of the way, dusted the bench with his hand and carefully sat down, posture perfect, both feet on the ground, back flat against the back of the bench. Emily looked at him and remembered there was a time she, too, would have sat the same way. Then she looked at herself and found she was sitting on some dried leaves, legs crossed, unmatching socks and a blood stain on her overalls. Holding a joint after having swallowed a Risperdal meant for someone else. Back in the day she wouldn't even drink beer, but maybe Kevin was a little more relaxed than her. She lit up the joint and moved it towards him.

“What is that?” he asked. Emily huffed.

“It's weed, Kevin from advanced placement,” she said. “Helps to get the edge off.”

“I'm fine,” he said. “Thanks.”

“Did you have some dinner?” she asked, opening the paper bag. Kevin shook his head. “What the hell do you mean ‘no’?”

“I- uh- I don't eat meat and Dean ordered me a burger, so…” Emily raised her eyebrows and looked inside the paper bag. A salad. She took a deep breath and handed it to him. “It's fine,” Kevin said. “You shouldn't skip dinner.”

“I'm not hungry,” she said. “You can have it, it's just vegetables.”

“You sure?” Kevin asked.

“Jesus, yes I am sure!” she snapped. “You're not gonna skip dinner because Dean's an idiot!” Kevin lowered his eyes and took the salad out of the bag. Emily looked at him and felt something eating her stomach. She wasn't hungry, but she had just recognised what she had been doing to Kevin: it was the same thing Dean had done to her for years. And it had been a pain in the ass to go through. “Sorry,” Emily sighed. “Just- they're driving me up the damn wall, it's not your fault.”

“It's fine,” Kevin whispered. Emily shook her head and took another hit of the joint. Did she use to be like that? No way. She used to be a bitch. She still was. So maybe Kevin wasn't more chill than she was or anything like that, he was just more scared.

“This must suck for you,” Emily said, holding the lighter at the tip of the joint. Kevin didn't answer. “You know, I've been in your position.”

“I- I'd rather not talk about it,” Kevin said. Emily took a deep breath. The sun had gone over the side of the hill, so it was pitch black at that point.

“I hope you brought a flashlight,” she said. Kevin remained silent. “Alright, five minutes and we're going.”

“Okay man, I have read this more times than the Playboy I found in dad's duffel,” Dean said, putting down the notebook he was holding. Emily looked up for her photocopies of the notebook and Sam from his laptop.

“Anna Nicole?” she asked. Dean and Sam turned towards her and frowned. “What? You think you're the only ones who got lonely sometimes?”

“Okay, that's gross,” Sam said. “But I don't think there's much more to figure out, right? Cut the head and the body will flounder.”

“And the head is Dick,” Emily said. “So we just gotta find these ingredients and kill him.” Dean sighed and took a sip from the beer that sat next to him at all hours.

“So what, we kill Dick and all Leviathans just go with him? Am I the only one who feels like that's way too easy?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” Dean answered.

“How's ‘maybe’ a good thing?” Emily said. “Yeah, we kill their boss, but if they're sticking around we still have ninety nine problems.”

“One issue at the time,” Dean said. “This is literally God's word, I don't know where we're gonna find more information.”

“Okay, so what's the ingredients?” Emily asked. “A bone washed in three bloods of the fallen, what else?”

“Bone from a human that is light and good, blood from a fallen angel, which we already got, blood from the ruler of fallen humanity,” Sam looked up at Emily.

“I guess Crowley's our best guess, right?” Sam nodded and Dean wrote something down in the notebook. “Also, blood from the father of fallen beasts.”

“Which I think means an Alpha,” Dean said. “Which is gonna be a problem since Cas killed them all.”

“Should we make it his problem, too?” Emily asked.

“I’d really rather not,” Dean said. “Last time I called him he showed up naked, covered in bees. Got stung in places I'd rather not tell.” Emily raised her eyebrows and looked at him, then decided not to raise any more questions.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Kept booping Kevin's nose like he was a puppy.”

“Not that far off,” Dean answered, standing up with a grunt. Emily huffed. “Where's the kid, by the way?”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked. “I thought you brought him to like- a safe place.”

“No?” Dean said. “I woke up and he was gone, I thought you'd done it.” Emily looked at Sam, who shook his head.

“That's just great,” Emily sighed. “Can't even keep a kid under control.”

“You don't get to call him a kid,” Sam huffed. “He's like three years younger than you.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Emily said, reaching for her laptop. “He's a kid.” Dean shook his head. “Look, he's like- about to graduate, I graduated nine years ago. Sorry for not seeing him as an adult.”

“Yeah, but you graduated at fourteen,” Dean said.

“And you thought I was eighteen, didn't you?” Emily said. “Look, I'll look into his location, you guys go after the ingredients.”

“You sure? You're gonna miss all the action,” Sam smirked.

“I need to get back into shape if I don't want to get myself killed,” Emily said. “I'll- I don't know, I'll get some practice in while you guys are gone, but I really don't feel like hunting an alpha as of right now.”

“Okay, we got good news and bad news,” Sam said, walking into the cabin. Emily put the lid on the pot and turned. “So, we- Are you cooking?”he asked, frowning.

“I mean, you called and said not to buy anything with corn syrup in it,” she said. “I killed a deer.”

“You what?!” Dean asked. “You went hunting?!”

“I told you I was gonna get some practice in,” she said. Dean frowned.

“Are you boiling the bullet or something?” Sam asked, confused. “You're not really supposed to-” Emily interrupted him by pointing to a bow that hung on the wall. “I stand corrected,” he said. “Can't believe dad's bow hunting classes came useful.”

“Right?” Emily smirked. “So, you were saying? Good news and bad news?” Dean walked into the cabin and kicked his boots away.

“Good news, we got the blood and the bone,” he said. “Bad news, Crowley stood us up, so we’re missing an ingredient.”

“He can do that?” Emily asked, frowning. “You summoned him, right?”

“Yeah, which means he's blocked somewhere,” Dean said. “What about you, found the kid yet?” Emily sighed.

“Kinda,” she said. Dean walked towards the bedroom. “Uhm, before you go in there, you should know Meg and Cas have been in there for twenty minutes.”

“What?” Dean asked. “Cas is here?”

“Yeah,” Emily said. “Meg and him arrived here half an hour ago, I thought she was gonna drop him off, but they've been in there since then.”

“Do you think they're…” Sam asked, confused. Emily shrugged.

“Anybody's guess,” she said. “I guess Cas’ not strictly into dick like we thought.” Dean turned towards her.

“What?”

“What?” Emily repeated. “The guy's gay, I think it's pretty obvious.” Dean looked at her, confused. “Will you gaydar ever start working, dude?” Dean sighed, rolled up his sleeve and walked to the bedroom door.

“Get dressed, you two, we gotta talk!” he said, punching the door. A second later, Castiel appeared behind him.

“Hello, Dean,” he said. Dean turned, scared. “It's good to see you.”

“God, you couldn't have walked?!” he asked. The door opened and Meg came out. “You should go.”

“Good to see you too, Dean,” Meg said, complaining. “And you're welcome for babysitting your boyfriend.”

“We summoned Crowley, he could show up any-”

“Minute?” said Crowley, appearing in the middle of the room. “Sorry I'm late.” Meg tried to run towards the door, but it closed. “Stay, won't you? There's really nowhere to run.”

“Leave her be,” Castiel said. Crowley looked at him and sighed.

“Castiel,” the demon said. “Last time we spoke, you- well, you enslaved me. I'm confused, why aren't you dead?”

“I don't know,” the angel said, fixing his tie over his shirt.

“Well, do you want to be?” asked Crowley. Emily turned off the fire under the pot and stepped forward.

“Okay, that's enough,” she said. “I think we got something bigger to discuss, don't we?”

“It's enough when I say it's enough, Sheep, I came to help and you're harbouring an angel,” Crowley answered. “Not just any angel, the angel I want to crush between my teeth.”

“Oh, so you can crush angels now, uh?” Meg asked. Emily rolled her eyes.

“That's not helpful,” she complained. “You gonna give us the blood or what?”

“You're so boring, Sheep, they ever tell you that?” Crowley said. He put a hand inside his jacket and handed her a vial of blood. “Here, so you can shut your trap.”

“Am I supposed to believe this is the actual blood?” she asked.

“Sheep, you really think I’d double cross you like that?” Emily frowned and Crowley sighed. “Of course I would, what am I saying? Not to worry, my distant spawn, it’s my blood.”

“You know we’ll come after you if it doesn’t work, right?” Sam asked. Crowley snarked.

“I’m sure you will, Moose. But for now, exit Crowley stage left.” The demon disappeared and Emily sighed. She handed the vial to Dean. As she walked towards the bedroom, Castiel disappeared, too.

“Where the hell has he gone?” she asked. Dean shook his head. Emily grabbed a cigarette and lit it up on her way back to the front door.

“Are you ever going to quit with that?” Dean asked. Emily looked at the beer he was holding and held the door open with one hand.

“You ever going to quit drinking?” she asked. Dean shook his head and Emily walked out. Sam walked next to her as she sat down on the porch.

“Any news on Kevin?” he asked. Emily shook her head.

“Not really,” she said. “News came out about him being back in Michigan, but I tapped all the security cameras and he’s nowhere to be found,” she explained. “So he’s either not gotten out of his room for a week, or he’s not there anymore.” Sam sighed and sat down. “Either way, I don’t have a clue.” Emily heard the distant sound of Dean arguing with someone inside the cabin and turned. Sam did the same.

“Should we go in there and tell him off?” she asked. “Cas has got it rough without him yelling like that.”

“Cas can handle it, he’s gonna be fine,” Sam said. Emily laid back on the porch steps and took a deep breath.

“God, I just wish the yelling would stop for like- one day,” she whispered. Sam didn’t answer. “Maybe I was wrong, moving out of Chicago.”

“I mean, you did what you thought was right,” Sam said. “And if you’re gonna rebuild Bobby’s house, you can always go back there.”

“Is that seriously your plan?” Emily asked, looking at Impala. “Drive in there guns blazing, get to Dick and hope Crowley didn’t mess with the blood?” Dean nodded. “Well, that’s a stupid plan if I’ve ever heard one.”

“You got a better idea?” Dean asked. Emily sighed. “You don’t wanna come, fine by me, but if shit goes wrong we all die bloody.” Emily looked at Dean as his attempt at guilt tripping her into a suicidal mission went wrong. He should have known better by then, she didn’t care that much about her life.

“Come on, Dean,” Sam complained. “Now’s really not the time.” As Dean was about to answer, Castiel appeared next to Emily holding a cup of tea.

“Harvested the honey myself,” the angel said. Emily smiled.

“Thanks Cas,” she said. “At least someone’s trying not to make a total bummer out of this conversation.”

“Dean thought you weren’t going to agree to his plan,” the angel said. Dean rolled his eyes.

“I don’t,” Emily answered. “But I trust him enough to go along with it and die anyway.” He wanted to guilt trip her? Fine, right back at him. Sam shook his head and left the room while Dean opened himself another beer. “What time do we leave?”

“In an hour,” Dean said.

Emily rushed into the office, arm already injuried from the car crashing through the gates and was surprised to find Kevin inside. She frowned for a second, then walked towards him to untie him.

“Nice to see you, Kevin from advanced placement,” she said, cutting the rope around his wrists. “I’d love to chit chat but we gotta hustle.” Emily undid the gag around his face and then pushed him towards the door.

“No, no, wait,” Kevin said, stopping Emily from leaving.

“What?” she asked. “I’m getting you back to your mom, okay?”

“Yeah, okay, fine, but Dick’s got creamer in his lab. He’s gonna kill all the skinny people.” Emily frowned, confused, and tried to open her mouth to ask for an explanation, but Kevin preceded her. “We have to blow up the lab.”

“Okay, that I can work with,” she said. “Where to?”

“That way,” Kevin pointed down a hall and Emily followed him, taking off her backpack and taking off some explosives she’d been dying to try for years. “What the hell is that?” Kevin asked.

“C-four, I think,” Emily said. When Kevin tried to complain, Emily interrupted him. “They’ve been in our hunting bag for like five years, okay? You ever waited five years to try a new videogame?”

“Are they going to work?”

“Not what you should be worried about,” Emily said with a smirk.

“What the hell does that mean?!” Kevin turned a corner and opened a door to an empty lab. “Where is everyone?”

“Probably out to get us,” Emily said. She put one of the explosives in his hand. “Stick this to something important,” she said. Kevin frowned. “Hurry up!” Kevin rolled his eyes and went to the left side of the room, while Emily went right and stuck the c-four to something that looked like a chemical mixer. “Okay, get out,” she said, pushing Kevin out the room. She walked to other side of the hallway. “Here’s to hoping the building doesn’t collapse.”

“What, wait-” Despite Kevin trying to stop her, Emily pushed the button on the remote, causing the explosives to detonate. The soundwave made her fall backwards, and as soon as the dust dissipated enough for her to see, she saw flames coming out of the lab.

“Alright, time to go,” Emily said, standing back and helping Kevin, too. She looked at her phone, where Sam had texted her.

Was that you?

Are you okay?

Where the hell are you? We’re on the top floor.

“We’re getting out, right?” Kevin asked. Emily looked at him, then at her phone. She could either get him out and then leave him alone to get taken by anybody, or she could drag him with her all the way to the top floor and hope he didn’t die in the fire.

“Nope, we’re going up,” Emily said.

“But-”

“Sorry, my job is to kind of keep an eye on you,” she said. “And I’m going up, so you’re coming with me.” Emily rushed towards the stairs and started climbing towards the top floor. She reached the door and pushed it open, Kevin lagging behind half a ramp of stairs. She waited for him, then followed the trail of dead Leviathans. She walked into a room and found Sam. She pushed past him to see Dean and Castiel had already stabbed Dick Roman in the neck, who was struggling to keep standing.

“Where the hell were you?!” Sam asked, turning towards her. “We heard explosions, we thought-”

“That was us,” she said. “Kid said we had to blow up the lab.” Dean took a step back away from Dick.

“Isn’t that below us?” Sam asked. The leviathan emitted a wave.

“Why aren’t they getting out of there?” Emily asked. “Dean!” she called just a moment before Dick exploded into black goo. She cleaned her face and stepped towards where Dean used to be, but he wasn’t there. “Dean?” Emily turned towards Sam. A few steps behind him, Kevin was still catching his breath.

“Guys,” he said. “More chompers any second.” Emily looked back to were Dean and Castiel used to stand.

“Where the hell are they?” she looked at Sam, who shook his head. “What do you m-”

“Guys!” Kevin called again. Emily was about to answer, when Crowley appeared behind him.

“Not to worry, I have a small army of demons outside,” the demon said. “If you’d only had one king your whole life and it was gone, you’d be in a kerfuffle too.”

“Where’s Dean?” Emily asked. “And don’t play dumb, I know you know.”

“That bone…” Crowley sighed. “Has a bit of a kick. God weapons often do, they should put a warning sign on the box.”

“Crowley!” Emily complained. “Enough with the theatrics, where are they?!”

“Can’t help you, Sheep,” the demon said. He snapped his fingers and two demons appeared next to Kevin. “Also, don’t be mad, but the prophet's mine now.” As he said that, before Emily or Sam could react, Kevin, Crowley and the demons all disappeared.

You don’t know

from Next To Normal

“Firefighters still at work as the Sucracorp headquarters suffered an explosion yesterday afternoon,” said the man on the news. Emily put down her coffee and sat on the motel bed. “The incident seems to be the result of a terrorist attack, which, to date, has gone unclaimed. More news at our lunch news program.”

“Well, that's just great,” Emily sighed. “Dean's missing, Crowley took Kevin and apparently I'm a terrorist now.”

“They have no way of tracing it back to you,” Sam said. “You will be fine.”

“I just hope you're right.” Emily took a sip of coffee and turned off the TV. “So, where do we start looking for them?”

“Got no clue,” Sam said. “Look, maybe we should take a breather, see what's what.”

“You wanna take a break? While Dean is stuck somewhere with Dick Roman?” Emily asked. “I don't think so.”

“Dick’s dead, okay? That's what the weapon was for.”

“So, we just… leave Dean behind? What if he needs our help?” Emily asked. Sam took a deep breath. “What?”

“Emily, look, even Crowley said he can't help us-”

“What if he was lying?!” she said. “What-”

“It's over, kid, I think- I think Dean's gone.” Emily looked at Sam and her heart dropped. He really believed it. He really thought Dean was gone for good. And rationally, maybe it made sense, since Crowley himself had said he couldn’t help them. Emily looked at the pile of books that laid in a corner of the motel. She’d read through them, but Bobby’s storage had at least twenty more. There had to be something.

“I’m not giving up on him,” Emily said. Sam didn’t answer. She’d been going through it, telling herself he would have done it for her, but she knew far too well he wouldn’t have. Every time Dean had the chance to prove he cared about her, he failed all the way. But she still kept going: maybe it was some sort of petty revenge, just a way to make him feel guilty that he never did the same for her, or maybe, after ten years, Emily just cared about him. She didn’t care to figure out which one, because either of them made her look like a good person. It was fine, as long as it kept her going.

Weeks passed. Sam’s involvement in finding Dean grew smaller, and then it disappeared. Sam gave up one Tuesday morning, when he took the books he’d left out the evening before and moved them over to Emily’s pile. He never touched them again and instead started falling into a very different tunnel. One that Emily had chosen to forget about years before, because “now’s not the time” and “we got bigger fishes”. Sam wasn’t okay. He’d never been okay, but trying to hide how not okay he was from Dean had made it invisible. Emily had known all along Sam wasn’t okay, that he didn’t want to live anymore, but she’d ignored it, pretended not to hear it, shoved Sam’s thoughts in a corner of her brain and thought over them, louder, so they wouldn’t bother her so much and - most importantly - so they didn’t infect her as well. But Dean was gone, and Sam was done hiding what he was doing every day in the bathroom. Emily kept wiping away vomit and blood off the toilet and kept staying silent, thinking “I’ll say something tomorrow”, but tomorrow never came. It never felt like the right time. One night, she woke up to the noise of Sam walking to the bathroom, and kept pretending to sleep just to avoid the inevitable. She was gonna have to be the oldest sibling and step in. But she couldn’t do it in a way that made Sam just go back to hiding. She actually wanted to help. But then what? Tell him to stop? Steal drugs for him? He surely could have used some weed, but Emily didn’t want to risk Sam swapping an eating disorder for an addiction: Dean already had that part of the DSM covered. Twenty minutes got by, and that was when Sam usually came out. Then, a thump. Emily frowned, and kept listening, but nothing else came out of the bathroom. She stood up and opened the door. Sam was lying on the floor, head near the toilet, passed out.

“I swear to god, Sam,” she whispered, checking his pulse. He was fine. Just passed out. Emily tried shaking him awake, slapping him, but then did the only reasonable thing she could think of at three AM, filled with panic. She opened her bag of stolen hospital supplies and injected him with adrenaline. Sam jolted awake and looked at Emily, figuring out what had happened. “Jesus Christ, Samuel,” Emily said, standing up.

“What happened?” he asked, touching his head where he’d hit the floor.

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Emily asked. Sam looked at her and sighed. “You know you’re gonna get yourself killed like this, right?”

“That’s fine, we’re not taking cases anyway,” Sam muttered, holding to the sink to stand up.

“That’s not what I meant,” Emily said. Sam turned for a second, then touched his head and walked towards his bed. “We need to talk about this, Sam.”

“It’s fine,” Sam said. “Just- I’m tired, okay? That’s all.”

“Sure,” Emily answered, shaking her head. “And the fact you only had a salad all week while trying to vomit God knows what has nothing to do with this, right?”

“Of course not,” Sam said, sitting on the bed. “I always got by.”

“You always got by because you had to eat in front of Dean, but he’s gone,” Emily sighed, sitting in front of him on her bed. “This is not okay, and it only ends one way.”

“Good,” Sam said, not looking at her. He laid back on the bed. Emily didn’t say anything. She just stood up and walked out of the room. That was it, Sam wanted to die.

Like a refugee, a fugitive, forever on the run

If it gets me it will kill me, but I don't know what I've done

It had been creeping up in the back of her neck for weeks, but she’d kept ignoring it like doing so would make it less real. But when the words got out of his mouth, there was no pretending anymore. Emily drove to town, grabbed some weed from a local, handed the money in and went back to the motel. She sat in the Impala, windows open, and lit up the joint. Dean wasn’t gonna complain about the smell, right? He was gone and she didn’t know if he was ever going to come back. Over the next following days, Sam seemed to put in some effort to at least look alive, but he spent most of his days in bed, unable to do anything, by lack of will, or strength. When even the last book Emily could source from Bobby’s storages had been read, a month later, she laid on her bed and did the same as Sam. Stared at the wall for hours. Maybe Dean was never going to come back. Maybe Sam was right, he was dead. Or wherever he was, if he was alive, he wasn’t coming back. A whole day of staring went by. Then, came a whole day of getting drunk. Which of course didn’t work, but it was worth a try, right? Sam never got so bad he passed out ever again, but he could not do a single thing without being exhausted afterwards. Looking at him getting himself coffee seemed like watching someone go up mount Everest. For a split second, one day, Emily called him a coward in her head. The thought just went through her. He wanted to die but didn’t want to act on it, so he was letting himself die instead. He looked at her, eyes caved in, empty of any kind of light, and didn’t say anything, but Emily knew he’d heard it. He even scratched his neck. That meant another trip downtown and some more weed, which had been proving a good way to stop the telepathy for a while. All Emily craved was twenty minutes of silence in her head. A moment where she didn’t hear Sam’s spiral and where she couldn’t hear hers, either. But at some point she had to go back inside and face it. She had to do something, or Sam would die, too. And that moment came a week later. Emily left the motel and just went straight to the closest hospital. She had to face it, she might have had some medical skills, but she wasn’t a doctor, and she sure as hell wasn’t a shrink. So she asked, talked with nurses, counselors, volunteers, and they all came to the same verdict. If Sam wanted to die, there was only one street left to pave: inpatient care. Volunteer or not, that had to come from Sam. They gave her two choices: bring him in by his own will, or wait until things got bad again, call an ambulance and do it the rough way.

“We need to talk,” Emily said, putting down her jacket on the couch. Sam turned towards her from his bed.

“About what?” he asked. Emily swallowed. Then, she made the mistake of thinking about everything they’d told her that day, and Sam sighed. “Jesus, Emily,” he said. “It’s not like that, okay?”

“Not like what?” Emily asked. “Dude, I told you you were going to die and you said ‘good’, yes it is like that!”

“I don’t need that, okay?” he said, pulling himself up. “I’m fine.” Emily scoffed.

“Fine?” she yelled. “Fine?!” Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude, there’s not a single cell in your body that’s fine!”

“I-”

“You’re starving to death, okay? It is like that and you can’t keep pretending you don’t need help or that I can somehow fix you, because I can’t!”

“Emily-” Sam tried to say.

“Next time you pass out I’m not gonna give you adrenaline, okay? I’m just gonna call nine-one-one, like I should have done months ago! So you either get in the car and we go now, or you go in a few days, because we both know we’re getting there again and I’m tired of doing this!”

“Yeah, you’re tired, sure,” Sam sighed. “You know it’s not going to work, right? They can give me all the pills in the world, there is no fixing this.”

“It would work if you wanted it to!” Emily yelled. “You think I don’t get it? Because I-”

“It’s not going to work because the problem isn’t in my head!” Sam yelled. Emily stopped talking. “It’s the blood, okay? It’s the damned demon blood.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Emily asked, crossing her arms. Sam dragged a hand across his face.

“Remember Alastair?” he asked. Emily nodded and swallowed. “He said the demon blood fucks people up, right? What if that’s the reason we are the way we are?”

“What-”

“What if the- you know, the-” Sam pointed to the bathroom. “And the weed, the- the fact that you’re always angry and I’m always sad, what if it’s just the demon blood?” Emily leaned on the kitchenette. The thought had gone by her a few times in the past, but she’d always hidden it somewhere safe, covered with more urgent things, and never took it out again. He was right, Alastair had said it, Azazel had said it, and the entire thing made way too much sense. Emily got more blood than Sam did, which was why she always felt everything a little too hard, and Sam, with his lower dose, just felt one thing over everything else.

“What’s your point?” Emily asked, trying to find a disproving argument.

“My point is, this is the only way I could find to get rid of it for real,” said Sam.

“Dying?” Emily asked. “Wow, nice plan.” Sam shook his head. “And what am I supposed to do when Dean comes back and I just let you die?” she continued.

“This is not about you!” Sam yelled. For just- just for once, Emily, can you think of something else that is not you?”

“Something-” Emily opened her mouth a couple of times trying to figure out what to say. “Fuck you, okay? I’m working overtime to make sure you don’t die!”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Because I care about you, that’s why!” Emily yelled. “You’re my best friend, okay? I’m not letting you die over this!”

“If you really cared about me…” Sam hesitated. “If you really cared about me you’d let me go.”

“Yeah, right,” Emily sighed, tracing the side of her nose with her fingers. “Of course! What a brilliant idea!”

“You’re selfish, that’s all there is to it! You’re just like Dean!” Emily looked at Sam, eyebrows raising slowly.

“You did not just say that,” she said. “Seriously? I’m selfish? I’m like Dean? Because I want my brother to stay alive?” Sam shook his head. “You know what? The Sam I know would never say that.”

“Well, maybe the Sam you know has been dead for a long time,” Sam said.

“Okay, that’s it, I’m done talking about this,” Emily said. “I’ll give you a day, then I’m getting you to the hospital, with or without your cooperation.”

“Whatever,” Sam said. Emily grabbed her jacket back up from the table and stormed out of the room. That had to be the least convincing argument she had ever had. But the plan had already formed in her head. Knock him out - couldn’t have been hard at that point - forge his signature, sign him in. Demon blood or not, there was still a chance it would help him. On the topic of demon blood, there was also a chance her entire plan was just from that. And there was also a chance she never really was herself, and it was all the demon blood, or her life. Emily took that thought and shoved it back with the ones she’d had all the other times, then went to find a bar in town.

A few too many drinks and a one night stand later, Emily wobbled back into her motel room, just to find it empty of Sam’s stuff. Her stuff was exactly where she’d left it, but any sign of Sam ever being there were gone. She walked to the kitchen and found a post it on the coffee pot.

You were right, read the post-it. I’ll be at Saint Mary. Emily looked at the post-it and thought her drinks had been laced with something. Sam couldn’t have changed his mind overnight. She went to bed, slept her four hours, but when she woke up, Sam was still gone, and the post-it was still there. Half an hour of hacking later, she was staring at Sam’s name in the list of Saint Mary’s patients. Ward four, no visitation allowed until TBD. Not a great sign.

Fine

from Ordinary Days

Emily heard her phone ring, Kevin's name flashing on the screen. She frowned. He was one of the many loose ends she could not tie up after Dean had disappeared. All she knew was that Crowley took him somewhere, but the demon had always refused to talk, no matter how long she kept him in a demon’s trap. She’d tried calling and tracking Kevin’s phone, but it looked like it had disappeared from the face of the earth. Or, one time a few months prior, somewhere in Arkansas. She picked up the call.

“Hello?” she said. The loud sound of someone scrambling with their phone came through and Emily moved the phone away from her ear. “Kevin?” she repeated.

“E-Emily?” said Kevin’s voice. “I’m sorry to- to call but-" He sounded out of breath, like he’d been running.. “I- I tried to call Sam but he isn’t picking up, so- I didn’t really know who else to-” Emily heard a thump and then silence for a while. “Crap-” said Kevin.

“Kevin- What’s going on? Are you okay?” she asked, alarmed, while walking to her laptop. “Where are you?”

“I- I- Crowley had me in a warehouse, I just ran- I’m not sure where-” Emily opened her laptop and started trying to locate Kevin’s phone.

“Dude, you- you ran from Crowley? How?” Emily looked at the phone company’s website load endlessly while looking for Kevin’s phone. “Find- Find a church, okay? Demons can’t-”

“I know!” said Kevin. Emily frowned. “I- I- I’m in a church right now, just… I don’t know what to do, I- I-”

“How did you-” Emily stopped, seeing the website had finally loaded Kevin’s location. “Kevin, you- you’re in Arkansas, somewhere north of Holly Creek, I- I can be there in four hours,” she said. “You think you have that time before they catch up with you?” Kevin scrambled with his phone again. Emily stood up and walked to her room to grab her backpack. “Talk to me, Advanced Placement!”

“Uhm- I- I don’t know, I’m not sure- I ran for a while, but…” Kevin trailed off. His breath got heavier. “I- I- I think they’re out here, just… They can’t come in, can they?!” Emily grabbed her bag off the floor and closed it.

“No, you should be okay,” said Emily. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“O-Okay, just… what- what- what do I do?” asked Kevin. Emily put him on speaker and grabbed Dean’s hunting bag from under the bed. “Emily, are you there?” asked Kevin’s voice, filling with panic.

“Yeah, I- I was just thinking what to bring,” she said, taking out Ruby’s knife. “How many of them are there?”

“I don’t know, two? Three? I didn’t get a good look, on account of being on the run!” Emily closed her eyes. Three demons was too much to take on her own. She was gonna have to find another way.

“Okay, Kevin, I’ll be there as soon as-”

“No, no, no- don't hang up, what do I do?!” he said. Emily closed the motel door behind her and walked towards the Impala.

“Kevin, wait for me, don't corner yourself, just… stay next to Jesus. And away from the windows.”

“This is a church! It's ninety percent windows!” said Kevin. Emily grabbed her keys and rushed to her car. “What do I do?”

“Okay, just… describe what you see, is there anything you can use as a weapon?” Kevin remained silent for a few seconds. “A- a statue or, I don't know- One of those big metal glasses?”

“I- I got an arm,” said Kevin. Emily frowned and started the car. “It's made of marble, I think.”

“It's gonna have to work, so now go to the altar and hide behind it!” said Emily. “I'm going to be there soon-”

“No, no, wait-”

“Kevin, if your phone dies I'll never find you, okay? Trust me, just… stay by the altar and if anybody enters the church, use the- the marble arm to stop them.”

“What if-” Emily hung up the call and merged into the road.

When she finally parked half a mile away from Kevin's location, she already saw some demons. She could see five, but there were more for sure. Three my ass. She tightened her grip on Ruby's knife and sneaked behind the first one. She dragged the corpse behind a wall and checked to see where her next target was. She managed to sneak past five demons, who died without making any sound, and had to fight seven more. It was brutal and she risked not making it a couple of times, but she could walk through a few cuts and bruises. Even if the cuts and bruises were bad and she was feeling light headed. The blood was soaking her clothes and had sprayed on her face. She could feel it dry on her skin as the stench overwhelmed her. She finally entered the church and walked to the altar. Kevin appeared from behind it, trying to hit her with a piece of statue.

“Dude!” she said, grabbing his wrist and almost falling to the ground. “It's me. You're safe.” Kevin took a step back and fell to the floor. The marble arm shattered next to him. “Are you okay?” Kevin nodded.

“Sorry I called you, I- I didn't know what to do, I- I-”

“It's fine.” Emily crouched in front of him, her knee cracking in a way it definitely shouldn’t have had. “Are you hurt?”

“Are we safe here?” asked Kevin. “I’ve been here for a few hours, maybe- maybe we should move-” Emily put her hands on Kevin's shoulder.

“Dude, are you okay or not? I need to know if I need to patch you up.” Kevin frowned.

“I- I tripped, while I was running, I-” he said, trying to stand back up. Emily pulled him back down.

“Show me,” she said. Kevin rolled up his jeans to reveal a swollen ankle. “It's not broken, but it will take a while for it to heal. Can you walk on it?”

“I ran on it for two hours,” said Kevin, starting to stand up. “I think I caaaa-” He trailed off, trying to hide a painful grimace. Emily put her hands on her waist. “Yeah, no- I can’t.”

“Alright-” she sighed and sat on the cold floor, hissing through the pain of her knee. Kevin frowned. “Take off your shoe,” she said. Emily took a roll of bandages out of her backpack. Kevin looked at her, terrified. “Dude, don't look at me like that. I'm not gonna cut off your foot, I just need to bandage it.”

“Does it hurt?”

“What?” asked Emily. “You- You never sprained an ankle before?” Kevin shook his head. “Right, advanced placement, no sports, I remember now.” Kevin rolled his eyes and just as he was about to complain, she rolled down his sock. Kevin hissed and tried to move his foot away, but Emily kept it in place. “Don't move,” she said and looked up. Kevin was holding his breath, eyes filling with tears. “Think happy thoughts for the next thirty seconds, okay?” With a sigh, Emily tightened the bandage around Kevin's ankle, causing him to repress a scream. She quickly glared at him and continued, knowing if she stopped, it would have gotten worse. When she kept going, he tried to stop her but she shoved his hands away. “Stop being a damn baby, it’s just a sprained ankle,” she said, tying the bandage on itself. Kevin finally took a breath.

“Sorry for being hurt!” he complained. “I’ll make sure to turn off my pain receptors next time.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“I dug out bullets out of people using my fingers and they complained less,” said Emily. “You’re just a baby.” She stood up and helped Kevin wrap an arm around her shoulders. “The car’s a mile away,” she said. “Think you can make it? Because I sure can't carry you.”

“Who’s being a baby now?” he whispered. Emily ignored him. “I- I'll walk.”

“By the way, there were twelve demons,” said Emily half an hour later, seeing the car appear in the distance. “Did you not pass AP math?” she asked. Kevin looked at her and frowned.

“I- If- How was I-”

“Dude,” said Emily with a sigh, shoving the key inside the car door. “It’s called a joke. Relax.”

“Right, okay,” Kevin sat next to Emily in the Impala. “Where's Sam and Dean?”

“Haven’t seen Sam in months,” said Emily. Kevin remained silent. “Dean's… gone.”

“Oh.” said Kevin. “Sorry, I-”

“Let's not, okay?” said Emily. She turned in her seat and grabbed her backpack from the backseat. She put it on Kevin's legs and slid her arms out of her overalls, taking off her blood soaked clothes.

“What are you doing?!” asked Kevin, looking away.

“Oh, grow up.” Emily rolled her eyes. “I'm sure you've seen a girl in a bra before. You'll be fine.” Emily started the car. “Open the backpack,” she said. “There should be a pack of square bandages.” Kevin rummaged in the backpack for a second before he took out the pack. “Okay, there should also be tape somewhere.”

“Why are we doing this while you're driving?” Kevin asked. “Wouldn't it be safer to-”

“Stop? Yeah, give the demons time to catch up with us,” she said. “You know how to do this?” she asked.

“Of course not!” Kevin complained. “And why are we using duct tape?!”

“What, you think I run an hospital or something?” she asked. “Jesus, uh-” she thought for a second, trying to focus on the road through her blurry vision. “Bottom of the backpack, disinfectant,” she explained. “Pour it on my side.” Emily moved her arm to show him the cut and he screamed. “Dude, I swear to God,” she said. “Just do it, I don't have all day!” Kevin opened the disinfectant and poured it on the wound. Emily tightened her hands around the steering wheel, trying to keep a straight course through the pain. “Okay, now take the gauze and put it on it,” she instructed. Kevin took the gauze from the corners and tried to carefully place it across her side. “Hurry up, we're about to merge into the freeway,” she said. Kevin hesitated, gauze still hanging off two fingers. “Can you use your whole hand?!” she yelled. “This isn't surgery, okay? I just need it covered!” Kevin looked at her, eyes tightening. He slapped the gauze on her side, making her scream.

“What did you do that for?!” she asked, bringing the car back into her lane. “I'm driving if you didn't notice!” Kevin didn't answer. “T-” Kevin added tape to the gauze, pushing on the wound again. Emily tried not to lose the car again and when Kevin was done, she reached into the backpack and grabbed a t-shirt from it. She looked around her and let go of the steering wheel to wear the t-shirt. When her head emerged from the t-shirt, Kevin's hand was holding the steering wheel while he looked at her like she was insane. Emily shook her head, grabbed the steering wheel and kept driving. She handed Kevin her phone. “Call your mom,” she said. “Tell her you won't be able to come home for a while.”

Emily opened the motel door, Kevin following closely. She threw her backpack in the corner and kicked away her shoes. Kevin stepped inside the room and looked around, confused.

“Get comfortable,” she said. “You can take the couch or we can share the double, you decide.”

“Wh-”

“TV and WiFi is paid for,” she continued, taking off the top of her overalls. “I’ll teach you how to find possible gigs.”

“D-”

“And we need to figure out what to do with your situation,” she said. Kevin shook his head and threw his backpack on the couch. “Hot water runs out fast so don't take too long in the shower.”

“I-”

“Jesus, we forgot to pick up food,” she complained. “I hope you like chips.” Kevin looked at her and put his hands on his waist, silent. “What?”

“What are we even doing here?!” he asked, confused. “I mean- aren't we supposed to- I don't know, hide? Protect ourselves?” Emily nodded and dug a ritual bag from her backpack and gave it to him. Kevin sniffed it and grimaced.

“Keep it on you, it makes you invisible to angels and demons,” she said. “Also,” Emily took off her anti-possession necklace and threw it to him. “Wear that, I’m fine, I got it tattooed.” Kevin wore the necklace and put it under his shirt.

“Emily, I…” Kevin trailed off and Emily looked at him. “Nothing,” he said. “Nevermind, it's… it's fine.”

“You sure?” asked Emily. Kevin nodded. “Alright, I'll order some pizza,” she said. “Do you drink beer?”

“I’m- I’m not allowed to,” he said with a frown. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “What? I’m not twenty one!”

“I’m not either,” she said with a frown. “Not for a few months anyway.” Kevin looked at her and shook his head. “Okay, change of plans then,” she said. “How would you like to try gin?”

Emily slammed the glass down on the table, making it shake over its uneven legs. Some gin fell out of the glass and splashed on the table.

“Oh god,” she groaned. “I think this might be the worst gin I've ever had,”

“I mean, it's getting the job done,” said Kevin. “I'm pretty sure I’m drunk.”

“Oh, me too,” Emily said, looking up at Kevin. “This was a terrible idea,” she said. “You’re a terrible influence on me,”

“Yeah, right,” Kevin smirked. Emily huffed and poured herself more gin. “I just hope this gets me to sleep,” Kevin said. Emily frowned. “What now?”

“You know the whole drink-to-forget thing is bullshit, right?” she said. Kevin frowned. “All it does is make you dumber.” Kevin looked at her like his entire world was shattered, alcohol being complicit in making what she'd said much more relevant than it should have been.

“Are you messing with me?” he asked.

“People do stuff they wouldn't normally do when they're drunk,” she said. Kevin's eyebrows raised, confused. “Like… have sex,” Emily continued. “With like- people they’re not supposed to,” Kevin continued looking at her. “Don’t worry- I’m not flirting with you,” she said. For a moment, her mind went to a different universe, one where they would have sex. It wouldn't have been that bad, she thought. He was… a person. Most likely had a penis, not that it was essential. Wouldn’t even be that bad looking since he got rid of the long hair. But he had that whole helpless look that really didn't make him look that appealing. Also, she was not about to defile a poor helpless virgin. She dragged a hand through her eyes. She must have been very drunk, she thought, if she was thinking of having sex with him. She took another sip of gin and shivered.

“You okay?” Kevin asked. Emily nodded.

“This gin sucks,” she said. “And I'm totally drunk.”

The following morning, Emily kicked the couch Kevin was sleeping on to wake him up, holding a cup of lukewarm coffee.

“Wake up, prophet, we gotta move,” she said. Kevin sat up and brushed his hair back with his hands. Emily looked at the table. It didn't have the chips and gin leftovers from the night before, it had a tablet that looked like the leviathan tablet. Kevin sighed. “Do I wanna know?” she asked.

“It's, uh-” he said, dragging his fingers through his eyes to wake himself up. Emily poured coffee in a cup and handed it to him. “The demon tablet,” he explained. “That's why Crowley took me, he wanted me to translate it.”

“What's on it?” Emily asked, sitting down on the bed.

“A- Uh- A bunch of things, on demons, mostly, and also, well there's one thing,” he said, looking away and scratching the back of his head. “It says how to close the gates to and from hell.” Emily almost dropped her cup of coffee to the ground.

“What?!” she asked. “How?!”

“Yeah, it's- uh it's three trials,” he said.

“To close the gates of hell,” Emily repeated, “Like- close? Forever?”

“Yeah,” Kevin stood up and put the cup in the sink. “The word is ‘sealed’, I think.”

“Wow,” Emily put her coffee down on the floor. “Just, wow-” Kevin ignored her and walked past, an eye still half closed. “What were you doing with it last night? We were black out drunk.”

“I couldn't sleep,” he shrugged. “Can we stop somewhere to buy clothes?” he asked. Emily turned. “I didn't exactly have time to pack.”

“Yeah, sure,” Emily answered. Close the gates of hell. Close. Close the fucking gates of hell. The ones she had opened when she was not more than a kid. Kevin said something she didn't quite understand. She could close the gates of hell. “How?” she asked, turning toward Kevin. He wasn't there. A moment later, she heard the toilet flush and Kevin walked out the bathroom.

“Did you say something?” he asked, drying his hands on his jeans.

“Yeah, I asked how,” she said. “How do I close the gates?”

“It’s- uh- three trials,” he explained. “Deadly. That’s all I got for now.”

“Alright,” Emily sighed. “I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to figure out what they are.” Kevin took the tablet and put it in his bag. “Time to go, we’re going back to South Dakota.”

“South Dakota?” Kevin asked, frowning. “That’s like- the other side of the country.”

“Yeah, there’s something I gotta do up there.”

Kevin sat in the passenger seat and sighed. What the hell was that all about? Moving across the country on one random morning? Sure, they were on the run, but going from Arkansas to South Dakota sounded a little extreme. But then again, demons could teleport, so maybe it made sense. Emily didn’t say a word, put on the usual weird musical theater compilation cassette and drove off. She didn’t sing along, she didn’t speak, she just drove. It was going to be a long drive.

“Can you get my phone from my bag?” she asked. Please, thank you and any other word that might have been regarded as kind or just polite were clearly not in Emily’s vocabulary. Already nervous, Kevin opened Emily’s backpack and gave her her phone. She sighed nervously and dialed a number without even looking at the road. She brought the phone to her ear.

“Hi, hello,” she said, a fake smile planted on her face. “My name’s Emily Reed, I’m looking to visit one of your patients tomorrow morning?” A voice on the other side of the phone said something Kevin couldn’t hear. “Name’s Sam Winchester,” she continued. “Yeah, I know he can receive guests, I just need to know if he wants to.” She remained silent for a few seconds. “Just tell him his sister wants to come visit… Okay, I’ll be here.” Emily fixed the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she turned left. “Uh- yeah, that’s okay, I- Can I still come by, talk with a doctor or something? Okay- Yeah, that’s fine, I’ll be there… Thanks.” Emily closed the calls and threw the phone in the back of the car with a groan.

“What’s going on with Sam?” Kevin asked, retrieving the phone and putting it in the backpack. Emily looked at him and smirked.

“A little OCD, are we?” she asked. Kevin rolled his eyes. “Sam’s fine.”

“Okay, so why are we driving all the way to South Dakota to talk with doctors about him?” he asked. Emily’s knuckles tightened against the steering wheel: she didn’t like the question, got that. She never answered. A few minutes later, she pulled over on the side of the road.

“I’m gonna smoke a cigarette, stay in the car,” she said. It wasn’t a question, it was an order. Something Kevin was already getting tired of. Emily walked out of the car and a few seconds later the smell of the cigarette entered through the open windows. He looked at Emily through the rearview mirror and saw she was leaning forward on the hood of the car. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have said she was crying. She looked up and saw him, then walked a few steps away from the car. Kevin went back to looking in front of him, but heard the clear sound of a trashcan being kicked. Thirty seconds later, Emily entered the car again, cigarette butt thrown out the window after one last long puff that reduced it to basically nothing, turned on the engine and dried her face, making sure to turn the opposite way from Kevin like that was at all subtle. She cleared her voice and drove off, and Kevin pretended not to notice the tears had ruined whatever makeup she was wearing. Up until that moment he'd never even known she wore makeup, but her face streaked with black goop said otherwise. What did she need makeup for, anyway? He took a better look once they were on a better-lit road and realized she had a scar on her cheek. So maybe that was what she was covering? But why? Her arms looked like someone dragged a cheese grater on them, but she didn't cover that up. In fact, she didn't seem to care about them. And what kind of hunter wears makeup? Emily dragged her hand across her cheeks, makeup smearing on her hand and on her face, too. She looked at the hand.

“Damn it,” she whispered, using her t-shirt to clean her face. Kevin looked at the box of tapes that laid between his feet.

“Do you mind if I put something else on the radio?” he asked. “We've been listening to the same four songs for two hours.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Emily answered, drying her face again. She was crying. What the hell was he supposed to do? What was up with Emily having feelings, anyway? Come on, she was the epitome of apathy, never smiling once if not to make fun of people, only giving orders and being a jerk. And she had feelings? Since when? He ignored her as she kept drying her face and took out the tape. He read through some of the tapes, silence filling the car. “Can you hurry the fuck up?!” Emily complained. Kevin grabbed a random tape and put it in. She started it. Emily sighed. “Sorry,” she whispered, dragging a hand through her face.

“Are you sure you don't wanna stop for the night?” he asked. Emily shook her head.

“We're not gonna make it in time if we stop and I'm gonna guess you can't drive, right?” Kevin shook his head. “Yeah, maybe it's about time you learn.”

“Make it in time for what?” he asked. Emily didn't answer. “Oh, come on, you're dragging me to the other side of country, the least you can do is tell me where the fuck we're going.” Emily looked at Kevin for a second, then sighed.

“Sam's in the hospital,” she said. “Psych ward.” Kevin frowned. Sam. In the hospital? He looked like he was the most stable of them all. He actually looked like he was the only normal one of the siblings. He'd seen Dean drink a six pack in a matter of a dinner, and Emily took the crown with that huge scar on her left wrist that looked like someone tried to chop her hand off, which given the state of the rest of her arm, she'd done it herself. Sam was the last person Kevin would expect to be in the mental hospital, and yet, he was there. “He doesn't want to see me, so…” Emily trailed off and slammed her hand on the steering wheel. “I'm just gonna go talk with the doctors to see if he's doing any better and when he can come home.”

It had been two months since Emily had rescued Kevin from that church. Sam wasn’t ready to come home, all possible leads on Dean had died, and she'd been hunting alone. She had to do something, right? And maybe at some point she’d find something on Dean. Maybe she could make a demon talk, or another hunter would know something. Kevin stayed at the motel, helped her with research sometimes, but he would try and translate the tablet most days. If Emily didn't distract him somehow, he would go on for hours and hours and wouldn't sleep.

It had happened a few times that they couldn't manage to find a room with twins, and they had to share, which was when she realized how little he slept. He would toss and turn most nights, only to pass out during car rides or get a few hours when he was exhausted.

For the most part of the first month, Emily wouldn't have dared say they were friends. Kevin didn't seem to like her all that much, and he surely wasn't the chatty type. Emily, on the other hand, didn’t mind being with someone who didn’t yell half the time and was drunk the other half. It was quiet. Which was good. She understood it was her fault if they lived in a constant state of silence and indifference, she had made no effort to be friendly. It just wasn’t a good idea. There wasn’t much on prophets in the lore, but after Chuck was done with his job as a prophet he’d vanished. His house was still perfectly intact, coffee still on the table next to his laptop, but no signs of him. So, if that was where Kevin was headed, there wasn’t much good to come out of being friends with him. At least by being a bitch she didn’t give him space to complain or question her decisions. Which sounded a lot like what Dean and John did, but Emily’d rather not think about it. That was exactly what she was trying to forget when Kevin came back from a food run with Starbucks one random Monday morning. Which, just by itself, was weird. When had they ever gotten Starbucks before? And also, since when did they buy breakfast for each other? He put it down on the table without a word and sat on his bed. Somehow that became a habit. Once in a while, one of them would get up early and get breakfast. Not that morning, though. That morning they’d just checked into the motel after a twelve hour drive out of a hunt. They entered a coffee shop and Emily brought both coffees to the table. He looked at her, confused, as she laid back in the chair and closed her eyes. The morning sun warmed up her face and she sighed.

“Why are we here?” Kevin asked, worried. Emily opened one eye.

“I’m gonna sell your organs to a dark web buyer,” she said, closing her eyes back down. When Kevin didn’t answer, she opened them up again. “We’re getting breakfast, what does it look like?”

“Is it… safe?”

“It’s only a couple of hours,” she said. “You have to get out of the motel once in a while, or you’ll go looney tunes real quick.” Kevin looked around and sat straighter on the chair. He took the coffee cup and brought it up to his nose. “Dude, it's just dark coffee,” Emily said. Kevin took a sip, put down the coffee and tapped his fingers on the table. Emily smiled under her breath, reminding of how Dean used to do that on his thigh when he was nervous.

“I’m used to staying in,” he said, looking away.

“What?!” Emily said, faking surprise. “You weren't a big party goer?” Kevin rolled his eyes. “You?! Kevin from advanced placement?”

“Okay-” Kevin huffed. “Not everyone has had the chance to be Homecoming Queen like you.” Emily frowned.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” she asked. “I was never Homecoming Queen or anything like that.” Kevin shrugged.

“Look at you,” he said. “You're…” he gestured in front of him, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly, until he rolled his eyes and closed it.

“Are you trying to say I’m pretty?” Emily asked with a smirk. Kevin raised his eyebrows and picked up the coffee. He took another sip and burned his mouth. Emily ignored his face turning purple. “Is it your weird way to try and give me a compliment?”

“What?!” Kevin asked, putting down his coffee. “No! I mean- yes?” he looked at her, confused. “Just- I’m saying you look- I’m saying you look like one of those girls, okay?”

“Those- Who-” Emily trailed off for a second. Kevin sighed and looked away, until she realized what he meant. “So you’re saying I’m a bully?!”

“No, what?! I never said that!” Kevin complained, “I’m saying you look like one,” Kevin said.

“I do not-” Emily’s mouth remained open for a moment. “Trust me, I’ve never been popular.” That was half a lie, everyone in high school loved her, but she needed to prove a point.

“Yeah right,” Kevin rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I graduated at fourteen,” Emily said. “Didn’t exactly have time to-”

“You what?!” Kevin's head stopped shaking and he looked at Emily. “Are you serious?!”

“I went to high school at eight,” Emily explained. “Lost a year after my mom died, then graduated.” Kevin remained silent, visibly doing calculations in his head. “What, never met another wiz kid before?”

“No need to be an asshole about it,” Kevin sighed.

“I didn’t do anything!” Emily answered. “You're the one who called me a bully.”

“I did not-” Kevin rolled his eyes. “You know what? I'm going back to the motel.” He reached for the motel keys on the table and stood up.

“Come on, seriously?” Emily sighed. “Come on, dude!” Kevin turned around and looked at her for a moment before leaving. Emily rolled her eyes and pretended not to see the entire coffee shop staring at her. She stared at Kevin's abandoned coffee. Friendships were a stupid idea. Maybe John and Dean were right all along. Who would have thought she’d ever see the day she’d say Dean was right about something. And he wasn’t even there to gloat. Emily let her head fall to the back of the chair and fidgeted with the coffee cup. She closed her eyes. It didn't used to be so hard to make friends when she was thirteen. But then the whole hunting thing happened and she never had to make a friend again. People just sort of fell into her lives and they would be there until they weren't. Jo was the closest thing to a friend she'd had, but they barely heard from each other, if at all, unless their paths crossed somehow.

Emily took her time and had breakfast. If Kevin really had gone straight back to the motel, he probably had at least an hour to walk. Accounting an hour to calm down, she could take her sweet time. She had Kevin's coffee packed and left, thirty minutes later, to explore the rest of the city. Parks, malls, whatever passed next to her as she drove, she stopped and took a walk. Emily returned to the motel well after lunch time, where Kevin was studying surrounded by take out boxes and energy drink cans.

The following morning Emily woke up and Kevin handed her a piece of paper. She dragged her hand over her eyes, then looked at Kevin.

“What language is this?” she asked. Kevin took the piece of paper back, looked at it like it could actually be in another language, and then gave it back to her.

“English,” he said. Emily frowned and brought it closer to her eyes. Maybe she was too tired, maybe she needed more sleep, because she could not make out a single word on it.

“What the hell does it say?” she asked, handing it back once again. Kevin rolled his eyes.

“It’s the first trial, like you asked,” he explained. Emily made her way to the coffee pot and filled it up. “Bathe yourself in the blood of a hellhound.”

“There’s no way that’s what you wrote there,” Emily said. Kevin rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, sorry, let me drink some coffee and we’re gonna go get some books.”

Emily closed her backpack and fixed her gun behind her overalls. They'd done enough research on hellhounds to last a lifetime, and she'd picked up something on the news that looked like it could be a deal expiring soon. Kevin stood a few feet from her, also packing.

“Are you sure you want to come with me?” Emily asked. “It’s going to be dangerous and you don’t even know how to work a gun.”

“Can't you teach me?” Kevin answered. “You know, like you said you would like- a hundred times?”

“And you really think hellhound hunting is a good place to test your shooting for the first time?” she said. “It’s nothing personal, okay? I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Oh, come on, just let me come with you!” Kevin complained. “I've been reading about hellhounds for weeks, I- I-”

“Kevin, reading about hellhounds is not exactly the same as being out there with one of them. I don’t even know what the hell I’m going against, this is definitely not the right time to christen you into the hunting life.”

“I don’t care, okay?” Emily sighed and shook her head. “I don't think you should be going alone.”

“You- You’re gonna back me up?” said Emily with a smirk. “Look, I can teach you how to shoot but between that- and backing me up-”

“Come on, you know what I mean!” Kevin complained, punching a t-shirt into his backpack.

“Look, I get it you want to help, but,” Emily sighed and looked at him. “What would be even more helpful is stay here and- translate the second trial!”

“I can't! It's- I can't even read it, I'm- I'm too- too-” Emily interrupted him and put her hands on her waist.

“Okay, how's risking your life going to fix that?” she asked. Kevin shook his head.

“I just want to come, okay?” he said. “I can't stand being in this place anymore! I- I'm gonna start talking with the damn table if I stay in here one more minute without solving crap!”

“Okay? Go for a walk then,” Emily said. “You’re gonna get yourself killed if you come on this gig with me.”

“Yeah, and what if you die?” he asked. “What am I supposed to do then?” Emily looked at him and sighed.

“You know what, fine,” she said. “But you don’t take the initiative and do what I say, got that?” Kevin shook his head. “I mean it.”

“Yeah, whatever, sure.”

“Alright, now that you know how to shoot, let’s talk case,” Emily said, sitting into the driver’s seat. Kevin threw his backpack in the bag and looked at the gun he was holding. “The place I found, Cassity Farms, someone definitely did a deal ten years ago.” Kevin put the gun on the floor between his feet.

“Okay, so?” he asked.

“So,” Emily sighed. She was in for a long day. “Deals usually expire after ten years, someone sold their soul for a fortune and now they’re gonna have a hellhound on their ass.” Kevin looked behind them on the road. “Usually people who are hunted down by hellhounds are gonna be freaking out, on account of seeing and hearing a huge black dog that nobody else sees,” she explained. “The idea is, you get this person to safety, I kill Fido, we go back home.”

“Why do I get the sense you’re making it sound easier than it is?” Kevin asked, crossing his arms. Emily turned on the engine. “Also, why do you get to do the killing?”

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m the one who actually knows how to do this job?” she asked. “Or just because I’m older, you pick.” Kevin rolled his eyes and Emily drove off of Bobby’s burned down house. “Last thing we need to figure out is the whole invisibility thing.”

“I got something,” Kevin said, grabbing his backpack and taking out his notes. “The tablet says ‘the dire creatures may be seen only by the damned or through an object scorched with holy fire’.”

“A lot of words to say ‘holy glasses’,” Emily said. “I should have Jesus Juice in the trunk, we’ll figure that out.”

“Jesus… Juice?” Kevin asked with a hint of disgust.

Emily pulled into the farm and stopped the engine. She walked out, closed the door behind her and went towards a woman that was working under a tractor.

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” Emily called. She heard the car door slam close and Kevin’s steps on the gravel. “I’m looking for the person who runs this joint.” The woman slid out from under the tractor.

“You guys are here about the job?” she asked.

“How’d you guess?” Emily smiled, happy to take a chance when she saw one. A few feet behind her, Kevin tripped and fell to the ground. She turned to see him dust gravel off his face. The woman crossed her arms. “Don’t worry about him, he learns quick and he definitely knows how to walk.”

“Fine,” the woman said. “Breakfast is at five, dinner is at eight, work in the middle. Questions?” Kevin tried to open his mouth, but Emily stepped on his foot to stop him.

“Nope, all good,” she smiled. “Can’t wait for tomorrow.”

“Cool, job’s yours, but I gotta warn you, it’s crap.”

“She really meant when she said it was a crap job,” Kevin complained, struggling to move the manure off the ground.

“Dude, you’re the worst shit-mover I have ever seen,” Emily sighed. “You’re a man. You’re supposed to have like… crazy arm strength.”

“I’m sure Ellie has lots of arm strength,” he whispered. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows for a second before going back to shoveling. “Is this what you do all day when I’m back at the motel?” he asked. “Try to get into everybody’s pants?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Emily stopped shoveling for a second to look at him.

“Yeah, like I didn’t notice you smiling at Ellie.”

“Okay?” Emily frowned. “I smiled at her, I was being nice,” she said. “You should try it sometimes.”

“Me?” Kevin scoffed. “Oh, I’m nice.”

“Not with me,” Emily whispered, going back to shoveling. Kevin rolled his eyes.

“That’s because I’m not nice with people who are assholes to me,” he answered. Emily shook her head.

“Right,” Emily sighed. “We need to figure out who took the deal. Keep your eyes open tonight at dinner, okay?”

“How about her?” Kevin said, nodding behind him. “Seems pretty strung up.” Emily looked up and saw Ellie was fighting with someone. “You know who she is?”

“Yeah, I saw her in the newspaper that brought us here,” she said. “Name’s Alice Cassity. She owns the joint.”

“Should we talk to her?” Kevin asked. Emily shook her head.

“We need to keep our cover,” she explained. “How good are you with stalking girls?”

“What kinda question is that?” Kevin complained. “Why would I-”

“Okay, can you stop doing that?” Emily asked, digging into the manure a little too aggressively. “I just asked you a question, dude, a yes or no question at that, think you can answer without putting up a scene or what?!” Kevin remained silent.

“Alright, so this was a bust,” Emily said, looking at Carl Cassity’s body being brought away by paramedics. Kevin had just walked back from their room. “Hellhounds got what they wanted, they’re gone.”

“I’m not sure,” Kevin said. Emily turned. “I talked with Alice, and I think Carl might have sold his soul for her, not for the money.”

“What makes you think that?” Emily asked.

“Today was their tenth anniversary,” he explained. Emily raised her eyebrows. “And the timing doesn’t add up, deal should expire tomorrow.”

“You think someone else in the family made a deal?” she asked. “Makes sense.”

“Ellie told me the entire family is flying in tomorrow morning, we’re gonna be helping with the dinner.”

“Alright, that’s gonna be a good opportunity to scope everyone out. We’re the help, they’re not gonna have problems talking about their dirty laundry in front of us.”

“There’s a problem,” Kevin said. “Ellie said one of us has to dress nice and serve people, the other one’s gonna be manning the grill.” Emily looked at him.

“It’s fine, I can be the one inside,” she said. Kevin looked at her, lips tightened in a straight line. “What?”

“I’ve never worked a grill in my life,” he said.

“What kinda man are you?” she asked, confused. “That’s fine, but you’re gonna need to listen to everything they say.”

“Hey, I was in advanced placement, my memory’s good.”

“You good with all the names?” Emily asked, fixing Kevin’s shirt over his jacket.

“Yeah, Cindy The Drunk, Noah the old man, Margot the baby.”

“Don’t… use those names when you’re in there,” Emily said. Kevin looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “Let’s go over your basic drinks.”

“Pour wine without spilling, whiskey with no ice because it waters it down unless they ask it on the rocks, old fashioned are bourbon, orange, sugar and that red stuff.”

“How about a Martini?” she asked.

“Gin, vermouth and orange,” Kevin answered. Emily nodded.

“You do have good memory,” she said. “You got your gun on you?” Kevin nodded.

“I’m not gonna need it, right?”

“It’s not gonna do anything to the hellhound, so no,” Emily sighed. “Just- be careful.”

“Sure,” Kevin sighed. He walked away and entered the house. Emily looked back at the grill and put a hand next to it to feel if it was warming up. She'd seen Dean do it. Once. That had to be enough, right?

Emily heard someone walk behind her and saw Kevin approach. She touched the meat that was on the plate ext to the grill. It was cold.

“Dude, finally! I’ve been waiting for like half an hour! The steak is gonna get-”

“It’s Crowley,” said Kevin. Emily froze. “They said a traveling salesman came through when they were at their old house. His name was Crowley.”

“Shit,” Emily sighed. “Any idea who signed?”

“No, they- they’re too busy wishing cancer on each other and having sex with everybody’s husbands,” Kevin answered.

“Okay, so, you stay here, make sure nobody gets away. I’ll go grab the glasses from the car.”

When Emily walked back, Kevin was gone. He wasn’t by the grill, he wasn’t inside. Noah and Margie were gone, too. She tried calling him but he refused the call. Emily turned off the grill and that was when Kevin appeared from behind the building, running.

“Where the hell were you, dude?!” asked Emily. “I told you to keep an eye on them, now they’re-” Kevin looked at her and didn't answer, out of breath. He looked down at the gun she'd given him, his hands shaking. He slowly moved it towards her and she took it. Kevin's chest bent forward and he vomited, missing Emily's shoes by an inch. She moved away. “What the hell, dude?!”

“Margie's dead,” he said, cleaning his face with his arm. “She went after the hellhoun-” as he said that, he vomited again.

“Okay, dude, I swear to God-” she sighed and took a step back. “You okay?” Kevin cleaned his face and nodded, sitting on the ground. “Good, because we need to get inside and have a talk with these people,” she said, looking at Noah as he reentered the house. “New plan,” she continued. “You stay here, make sure nobody gets out of the house, I’m gonna go look for the bastard.”

“What?” Kevin looked up, concerned. “No, how- how am I going to convince them to stay inside?”

“I don’t know, cuff ‘em, point your gun at them, do whatever you need to do, but don’t- don’t let them out, okay?” Kevin swallowed. “I sneaked some goofer dust in the kitchen, put it on the windows and on the doors, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“O-okay,” Kevin said, standing back up. Emily gave him back his gun. He swallowed again. Emily knew there was no part of that plan that held up, but she had to try. She grabbed Ruby’s knife off her overalls and walked into the opposite direction of the house, towards the barn. She saw a light and walked closer. It was Ellie’s room. She knocked.

“Ellie?” she called. The door opened. “Look, it’s gonna sound crazy, but it’s dangerous out here.”

“I know,” Ellie said, putting down a glass of liquor. “That thing… it’s coming for me.”

“What?” Emily frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve been working here since I was a kid, well before the Cassity were rich,” Ellie explained. “My mom was sick, and Crowley helped me fix it.”

“Son of a bitch,” Emily sighed. “He made you sign? Really?”

“He didn’t make me do anything,” Ellie said. “I did it for my mom.”

“We can help, okay? I can kill that thing, all you have to do is-” Emily heard a scream that sounded way too much like Kevin. She turned. She looked at Ellie. “Get in the house!” she yelled and prayed Kevin had at least put goofer dust before running off to God knew where. She followed the screams and arrived in another barn, when Kevin was on the floor, bleeding, the hellhound hovering over him. Emily stepped in and kicked the dog just enough so it would get off of Kevin and attack her instead. The moment she saw the dog attack, she stabbed it with the knife she’d been holding, but it still managed to get a hit on her. The glasses got covered in thick, black blood as she struggled to push the hellhound away from her. It landed on the floor with a thud. She tried cleaning the glasses with her t-shirt, but it was so soaked in blood it didn’t do anything. She threw the glasses away and looked at where the hellhound had hit her. She was bleeding from her side. Light headed, she looked for Kevin on the floor.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Kevin looked down at his blood-covered hand. He moved it to reveal a cut where the hellhound had attacked.

“I- I- don’t know.” Emily stumbled in front of him and held herself standing with one hand on the wall behind him. She looked down, trying not to see double.

“You’ll be fine,” she said. “I think.”

“You think?!”

“Jesus-” Emily almost fell to the floor. She gestured at her blood-soaked shirt. “You think this counts as bathing in the damn blood?” Kevin nodded.

“I- I guess?” he answered, still covering his wound with his hand. He used the free one to get the spell from his pocket. It was covered in blood, too, but still readable. Emily took it and read it out loud. For a moment, everything stood still. She was just about to try and stand back up when a sharp pain hit her arm. She fell to the ground and right on Kevin’s legs. Trying to ease the pain, Emily dug her nails in Kevin’s arm and placed her head on the wall next to his.

“Are you o-”

“No!” she snapped. “Fuck- what does it look like?!” Emily released a groan of pain and then everything stopped. She caught her breath and rolled away from Kevin. “Sorry-” she said. “Didn’t mean to- you know- try and get to third base but- Jesus Christ, that hurt like a motherfucker.”

Emily parked next to the motel and turned off the engine. She took a deep breath. Kevin was pulling on his fingers, silent.

“Okay,” she sighed. “We’re here.”

“Yeah, I- I can see that,” he said but didn’t move.

“You see why I didn’t want you to come?” she asked. “This job’s rough, and you could have died.”

“I’m fine. It’s barely a scratch,” Kevin answered, opening the door. Emily rolled her eyes and followed him outside of the car.

“Dude, it is not a scratch!” she complained. “You're lucky I found you when I did, okay? If we're gonna do this together you gotta be more careful.”

“Yeah, right-” Kevin rolled his eyes and walked towards the motel. Emily followed him, looking for the keys in her pocket.

“Is this a male pride thing?” she asked, walking past him and opening the door. “Are you mad I am not a damsel in distress and you cannot be prince charming coming in and saving me?” Kevin shook his head and didn’t answer. Emily sighed. She waited for him to enter the room and then locked the door. “You should take a shower. You smell like shit.”

From that moment on, something changed. The trials were deadly, Emily knew, but she didn't think it was going to happen that fast. The day after killing the hellhound, she felt nauseous. Same the day after that. After a few days, she realised that was going to be her life, whatever was left of it. That was how it was starting, and it was going to get worse and worse. And then, by end, she would be dead, or maybe she'd wish she would be. Kevin didn't seem to notice, not that Emily gave him any clue. Life continued, gig after gig, waiting for Kevin to translate the second trial, but hunting was getting harder. Taking down ghosts, demons or whatever it was Emily found that week was not easy when she was constantly feeling like vomiting. That morning, in particular, she felt like absolute shit. Her entire body was aching, she'd already vomited twice and it didn't seem to slow down at all. But she'd gotten word a nest of vampires was about to move out, and that was her only chance at killing them all, so she went anyway. She almost made it through. Nine vampires, all dead within the hour, but that last one, her body just decided it was enough and took away any strength. The vampire towered over her, fangs already out, and Emily couldn't push it off of herself. Not with her arms, not with her legs, not even with her powers. She was running on a battery that had ran out at the worst possible moment. Just as she was about to accept that it was over, a syringe was dug into the vampire's neck, and it collapsed. Emily dragged herself back just enough to set herself free from the body, and looked up.

“Kevin?!” she asked. “What the hell are you doing here?” He looked at her and threw the syringe on the floor.

“You- uh- you sounded weird when you left so I… I followed you.” he said, dragging his hands through his hair to hide the fact that they were shaking.

“You did what?!” she yelled. “You could have gotten yourself killed!” Kevin looked at her and shook his head.

“Yeah, you're welcome, by the way,” he sighed, walking away. Emily stood back up and got light headed, almost falling to the side. “What the hell's wrong with you?” he asked.

“I'm fine, just- a little nauseous.”

“You're not… pregnant, are you?” Kevin asked. Emily put her hands on her waist.

“Yeah, I was given the not so immaculate conception,” she said, walking towards her car. “It's obviously the trials, dude!” Kevin caught up with her.

“Okay, then why the fuck did you come out here? You can barely stand!”

“I can barely stand because I'm exhausted,” she complained. She took out the car keys and opened the Impala. “It's just some nausea, I can survive that.”

“Almost didn't,” Kevin whispered, getting into the car.

“I had it under control,” Emily said. “You didn't need to do that, okay? Your job is not to look after me. Your job is to find a way I can close the gates!”

“So, my job is to get you the trials that will kill you?” he asked. Emily nodded. “My job’s to kill you?”

“Yeah,” Emily sighed. She merged into the road.

“Yeah well, what if I don't like that job?” Kevin complained. “What if I don't want to kill you?”

“Suck it up, Advanced Placement, it’s a little late to think about that.”

“I got us dinner,” said Kevin, dropping a brown bag on the table. Emily opened one eye and nodded. “Just- You need to rest, and I need to focus on the tablet, so…”

“Okay, you know what? I'm tired, I need to sleep and you can't do tablet stuff with the lights off, just- can we not do that for the night?” she asked. Kevin looked at her and sighed. She closed both her eyes again.

“Sure,” he said. “So… A little stay in and chill action?”

“You know, when you say that, it makes it sound like you want to have sex.” Kevin didn't answer, and Emily opened her eyes, sitting up. “Wow,” Emily scoffed. “Not even gonna correct me on that?” she asked. “Kevin from advanced placement, are you… flirting with me?”

“If anything, you’re flirting with me,” Kevin answered, taking out a take out box from the paper bag.

“I’m not flirting with you!” Emily complained, standing out of the bed. “You’re the one who mentioned sex!”

“Wrong,” Kevin turned towards her, “I said ‘stay in and chill’, you’re the one who said ‘sex’.” Emily looked at him. Yeah, maybe she was flirting. Because she had an itch to scratch and Kevin was the closest person around. Was it a good idea? Definitely not. But the fact he wasn't complaining about the flirting was a double edged sword. Because Emily knew Kevin well enough he wasn't the type of person to do no-strings-attached. So it was a horrible idea. “Tell you what, how about we-” Was all she could say before the motel door swung open and two demons entered the room. The men pinned her to the wall as a third demon marched into the room and towards Kevin. Emily used her powers to get rid of one of the demons, and punched the other one cold. When she looked for Kevin, she saw his hand trying to hold onto the door as he was being dragged away. She grabbed her knife from under her pillow and sprinted behind him. She caught up and tried to hold onto Kevin, stopping the demon from taking him any further. She clutched the knife tight in her hand and moved Kevin's head out of the way to dig it into the demon's neck. Blood sprayed everywhere: on their faces, on the wall, on their clothes. As the demon dropped dead on the floor, Kevin set himself free.

“Are you okay?” asked Emily, cleaning her face from the blood. Kevin nodded. “Alright, we need to leave and we need to leave fast,” she said. “Are you sure you're good?”

Kevin didn't say a word for the rest of the night, not as they were packing, not as Emily drove them to the next town over. Even after the shower, when the blood was all washed off, he was still awfully quiet. Emily sat in bed with her hair still damp and falling on her shoulder, but Kevin sat at the table and took his notes out of his backpack.

“Dude, it's three in the morning,” she said. “I thought we said we weren't doing that tonight.”

“I can't sleep,” he said. “Sorry, I- I’ll use the lamp to read, it's fine, you go to bed.”

“Seriously?” she asked. “It's been a long day, you should rest.”

“I’m fine, really,” he said. “I'm gonna sleep all I want once this is over.”

“Kevin?” she called, opening the door. All she wanted was to go grab lunch. Thirty minutes. “I saw the 911 text, are you okay?” Kevin wasn't in the room. “Kevin?” Emily looked around, putting one hand on her gun and already thinking the worst. The bathroom light was on. “Are you okay?” As she walked towards the bathroom, she started hearing the faint sound of someone breathing heavily. She opened the door and here he was. Kneeled in front of the toilet, pale as a ghost. “Are you okay?” Kevin turned towards her and seemed to retch, his breath broken. He tried opening his mouth to talk, but only the sound of choking came out. Emily crouched next to him, worried. He wasn't choking on anything, he was just… hyperventilating. Or so it seemed. “Please tell me it's not asthma,” she said. Kevin shook his head. “So you-” she looked as Kevin swallowed and tried to sit straighter, his hands shaking. “Are you having a panic attack?” He looked at her but didn't answer. “Jesus Christ, wait,” she rushed out of the bathroom to get her first aid kit and grabbed the canned ice she had. “Give me your arms,” she said, sitting in front of him. She sprayed his wrists with canned ice. “Now, try to take long breaths, okay? I know it sucks, but you're going to be fine in a minute,” He held onto her wrist and dug his nails in her skin while he forced himself to breathe. A few minutes later he leaned back on the wall behind him. “I’ll make some tea,” she said, standing back up. “You stand up when you're done.” She walked to the coffee pot and emptied it in the sink. She scraped the bottom of the coffee off the filter and then filled it with water instead. Little did she know, that was not bound to be a one time thing. Kevin had a panic attack every time she left the motel or every time they had to move to a new place. When Emily finally managed to get some answers out of him, he said he didn’t feel safe. So, she got to work to find him a safer place. She found a church, in South Dakota, a few miles out of town from where she and Sam used to live. She put down a couple of inflatable mattresses and bought a mini fridge. It wasn't good, by any means, but they had a table to eat and a bathroom, which was just about as much as Emily needed to survive. Kevin, not that much, he was still getting used to the new way of life, but at least he felt safe. Er. He felt safer. The weeks passed and they never brought up the flirting that was happening that night. It was better that way, thought Emily. Explaining to Kevin that it was just about the sex - it was always just about the sex - would have been hard. She was happy she could get out of that hassle free.

“I'm heading out,” she said. Kevin nodded, not taking his eyes off the tablet. “Want anything? Food? Coffee? A movie?”

“I'm fine,” he said. Emily frowned. He had been especially distant. Of course, things had tensed up after the demon attack, but after they moved into the church, they had gotten even worse. He would not get out of there, ever, he just refused or found an excuse, and that wasn’t any good for him. He just stared at the demon tablet all day, hardly said a word or ate.

“You know, once in a while you should try to let out some stress,” she said. “It's making you a bitch.”

“Look who's talking,” he whispered, turning the page on his notes.

“What exactly is your problem?” she asked. “Have I done something?”

“I don't know, have you?”

“Jesus Christ, Kevin, what is this all about?” she asked. Kevin rolled his eyes. “You realize I’m putting my job on hold to hang out here with you, right?” she asked. Kevin scoffed. “Just because I flirted with you for a second doesn’t mean you have to put on this whole thing!” she said.

“That's not the point!” Kevin closed the notebook and pushed it across the table, papers scattering on the floor. He rolled his eyes and stood up.

“Then what?” she asked. Kevin gathered some paper off the floor and slammed them on the table.

“You know what? It’s nothing,” he said. “I have to get back to it.”

“Right, of course,” Emily rolled her eyes. “Whatever, just- do you damn thing so we can get this over with.”

Kevin laid back in his inflatable mattress and threw his laptop to the side. Emily glared at him for a moment, but didn't say anything. The thing had been deflating for days, but he was so determined not to talk to her and he had not asked where the compressor was, and Emily wasn’t gonna do it for him. Not while he wasn’t even talking to her.

“This shit’s all deflated,” he said. “It's uncomfortable as fuck.” Those were the first words he’s said to her in a week, probably in hope of some mercy and a compressor. Emily ignored him. The following morning, she woke up to coffee.

“Did you drive into town to get us coffee?” Emily asked, confused. Kevin didn’t answer. She dragged her hand across her eyes and saw he had headphones on. She drank the coffee and opened her laptop. Maybe staying in there all the time was the real problem. Being stuck in the same church that smelled like mold would have been a nightmare with anybody, but someone you barely tolerate? That was an actual nightmare. She looked at the local news and found what looked like a vengeful spirit a few hours away. She stood up and started packing. It didn’t take long for Kevin to notice.

“What are you doing?” he asked, moving his headphones away. Emily turned.

“Found a case in Nebraska,” she answered. Kevin frowned. “Thought I’d give you some space, you know, the desert and all that.”

“You’re leaving?” he said. “What th-”

“Dude, you haven’t talked to me in a week, yes I am leaving, you clearly need some space.” Emily closed her bag and put it over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few days.” She started walking towards the door, but Kevin followed her.

“What’s this?” he asked. “It was just a stupid fight!”

“A stupid fight?” Emily scoffed. “No, it wasn’t a fight, you got offended over nothing and gave me the silent treatment,” she said. “You have your own job, I have mine, and being in here together all the time is not working out well.” Kevin shook his head. “There’s food in the fridge, running water, and you finally get your peace so you can work without me being in the way all the damn time.” Kevin’s face went through like fifteen different emotions and then landed on nothing.

“Fine,” he said. “Whatever.” Emily looked at him and went back to sitting in front of the tablet and then walked out.

Emily wrapped up the case in a couple of days and then stayed at a motel for a few more days. Kevin had not called, texted or contacted in any way, and she was fine with that. He always liked to play the big grown up who didn’t need nobody, this was his chance of actually doing it. She stopped in the doorway, tripping on her own thoughts. She’d done the same thing. She’d literally snuck out to bars in order to prove to Dean that she knew how to look after herself. Almost got herself killed a thousand times over it. Emily shook her thoughts off and closed the motel door. She entered the shower, washed off the sweat and the dirt and walked out. She turned on the TV, lit a joint and picked up the local pizza place flyer that was lying in a corner of the room. That was when someone knocked on her door. Thinking it was someone in a nearby room ready to complain about the noise, she opened it without a second thought, and saw Kevin. Emily dragged him inside and locked the door behind her.

“What are you doing here?!” she asked.

“I drove,” said Kevin with a cadence Emily had never heard before. “And I stole a car, just l'ke you taugh' me.”

“Are you drunk?!” asked Emily. Kevin lost his balance to the right and took a couple of steps.

“Possibly,” he said, raising a finger. “I had a couple of drinks-”

“Piling on the list of felonies, how fast were you going?”

“Not too fast, I think I was doing eighty,” he said. “The ones on the dashboard are kilometres, right?”

“What! No! They're miles- you were going eighty?! Why would they be kilometres?!” Emily grabbed the salt from the counter and started pouring in front of the door.

“It’s a German car, I thought-”

“God, you're an idiot!” she said. “You-”

“I didn't like being alone!” yelled Kevin. “I- I wanted to see you and tell you I'm sorry!”

“What?”

“I'm s-o-r-r-y-” he spelled. “Please- come back to the church! I swear I'll- I- I don't know, I- I'll be nicer!”

“What the hell are you talking about?! You’re the one who got mad at me!”

“I didn't mean it and I definitely didn’t want you to leave!”

“Dude-”

“I'm sorry, okay? But I miss you!” Emily looked at Kevin. He frowned, realizing he'd just said something he was probably going to regret. “I mean, like- I-”

“Shut up,” said Emily, pinching her nose. Kevin's mouth closed. “Couldn't you just give me a call?!” Kevin shook his head.

“No, I ‘’lready did that!” he said. “And it took you forever!”

“It took less than it should've, because I was going fucking eighty!”

“Why?!”

“I don't know, why did you go 80 to come here?!” Emily asked, throwing her hands in the air. It took her a full ten seconds to regret her question, and it happened when she realized the answers were probably different. Drastically different. “You were in danger, okay? That’s why I was-” she shook her head and checked her phone for the time. “How did you find me, by the way?”

“Hacked your phone,” said Kevin, pointing to the phone. “You really need to change a couple of your passwords.”

“God, I wish I never taught you how to do that,” she sighed. “What you did was dangerous, okay? It’s Christmas eve, cops are gonna be out there looking for DUIs to sponsor the rest of the year, what did you think would happen?” Kevin looked at her and frowned.

“It’s… Christmas eve?” he asked. Emily nodded. Kevin grabbed her wrist and looked at her phone. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Emily said. “You been in that church for so long you don’t even know what day it is.”

“You have,” said Kevin. Emily frowned.

“No I haven’t, I know what day it is.”

“No, you said ‘you been’, it’s ‘you have been’,” he answered. Emily looked at him and didn’t answer. “I thought you were supposed to be like- hella smart.”

“Are you… correcting my grammar?”

“Yeah, because it’s shit,” he complained. Emily scoffed.

“I’m smarter than you are, advanced placement,” she said. Kevin shook his head. “Okay, tough guy, don’t make me test you, you’re way too drunk for that.” Kevin tried to talk, but she interrupted him. “Sorry, way too ‘intoxicated’.”

“That’s not funny,” he said. Emily shrugged. “Why are you like this? Why can’t you be nice for ten seconds?”

“I don’t know, why can’t you?”

“I’m not nice because you’re not nice!” he said, almost falling to the side. He sat on the bed.

“Okay, and I’m not nice because I don’t want to be!” she yelled. “I don’t know if you’ve realized yet, but I’m gonna die! Like- soon! So I’m not really planning to make new friends!” Kevin shook his head. “Especially not with the guy who’s supposed to tell me how I die!”

“So you’re just gonna be an asshole for the rest of your life?” Kevin asked. “I didn’t choose this, okay? Trust me, if I could I wouldn’t be doing it!”

“Yeah, but I did! I did choose this, because I am the idiot who opened the gates when I was a dumb kid like you, so now I have to be the idiot that dies to close them!” Kevin looked at her for a second.

“What did you say?” he asked. Emily took a deep breath.

“I was fourteen,” she said. “Sam was dead, and Dean had just been- really- really an asshole to me.” She sat on the bed in front of him. “A demon convinced me to do it in exchange for bringing Sam back.”

“Oh,” Kevin frowned. “And… did it work?”

“Nope,” she sighed. “Dean killed the demon and I killed myself.” Kevin scratched the back of his neck and looked away. “Don’t feel bad for me, I’m alive, right?”

“Is that how-” Kevin trailed off, looking at her arms. “Nevermind, sorry, I- I-”

“Oh, shut up,” Emily groaned. “I don’t want your pity, I want you to help me close those stupid gates, so I can fix what I did when I was a dumb kid.”

“Can we go back to South Dakota?” Kevin asked. “I… I really don’t feel safe out here.”

“Should have thought of it before you drove over here,” Emily said. “We’re gonna go tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” Kevin said and laid back on the bed. Emily sighed and did the same. He looked at the time on his phone. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Emily walked into the church and threw her bag in a corner. Kevin walked past her and went straight to the altar where his notes were gathered.

“Alright,” said Emily, walking to her mattress. “Do your thing, but you’re taking a break for dinner.”

“What?” Kevin frowned. “No, it’s-”

“Oh no, we’re not gonna do that again, you need breaks. I’m not saying use the pomodoro method or some shit like that, just- once a day, okay? So you’re not running on redbull for seventy-two hours.”

“But I’m gonna go way too slow,” he said. “I’m never gonna translate a damn thing like this!”

“Believe it or not, I’m not in a rush to die,” she sighed. “Once a day, okay?”

“Once every four days,” Kevin said. Emily scoffed.

“Once every two.”

“Three,” Kevin said. Emily crossed her arms. “Not going lower than that.” She looked at him. Once every three days was better than never.

“Fine,” she said. “But you’re taking it, no matter what, you hear me? I’m gonna fucking knock you out if you don’t.” Kevin huffed and went to sit. “How far along are you, by the way?”

“Couple of words in,” he said. Emily nodded. “But I think I can get it in a month.”

“Take a month, take two, it’s fine for me,” Emily said. “As I said, not in a rush.”

“Get you nose out of your books, advanced placement, you gotta take a break,” she called. Kevin looked up, confused.

“Already?” he asked. Emily nodded. “It’s been three days?”

“Well, I went to sleep three times, and you haven’t, so yeah,” she said. Kevin frowned.

“You’ve gone to sleep?” he asked. Emily shook her head.

“Dinner,” she said. “How are you not starving?” Kevin stayed quiet for a second.

“I am starving, actually,” he said. “I didn’t realize.”

“I got you vegetarian hot dogs,” she said, turning on the electric stove. “Take out my laptop, we’re gonna watch a movie.”

“Okay, just… I am begging you, no more musicals,” Kevin sighed, walking towards her backpack.

“How does Harry Potter sound? I know it's super basic, but that's all I have on here.” Kevin nodded.

“Good-” he walked over to the stove and took a bite of an uncooked hotdog. “Never seen them.”

“Dude, that can’t be good for you,” she took the hotdog from him and put it in the pan. “Wait- you‘ve never watched Harry Potter?!”

“Nope.” Emily looked at him for a second.

“Jail,” she said. Kevin frowned. “You're going to nerd-jail for lack of life, what the hell did you do before you became a prophet?!”

“I… I studied?” he explained. “And I was in charge of a World of Warcraft guild. Didn't have much time to watch movies.”

“You played World of Warcraft?” Emily asked. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Why?” Emily shook her head. “What?” asked Kevin. Emily kept shaking her head, trying to contain her laughter. “What?!”

“You're a nerd is what!” she smiled. “A big ass nerd who has not watched Harry Potter.” Kevin scoffed.

“I'm a nerd? You only watch musicals and can recite the entire script of Wicked from start to finish!” he said.

“Yeah, that makes me a theater kid, not a nerd!” said Emily. “It's other things that make me a nerd, but at least I watched Harry Potter.” Emily stuck out her tongue and put the last hot dog in the pan. She walked to the minifridge. “Hands off the hotdogs, Advanced Placement,” she said, not looking back. She heard the sound of a hotdog being dropped into the pan.

“How the fuck did you know?” Kevin asked.

“Call it an instinct,” she sighed. She put two energy drinks on the altar, moving some notes to the side, and opened her laptop. By the time she’d found the movie on her hard drive, the hotdogs were ready. Emily put them on the table still in the pan next to a pack of bread. She played the movie and Kevin sat next to her.

By the end of it, Emily stood up, shook off her shirt from the breadcrumbs and groaned in pain. “No offense,” she said. “But your house has the most uncomfortable chairs ever.”

“I am very offended.” Kevin said with a huff. “How about next time we watch it on the bed?” Emily looked towards the mattresses on the other side of the church. She bit a bit of skin that was hanging from her nail.

“Umh-” she hesitated. “Yeah, okay, it's fine.”

“What?” asked Kevin. “I’m not going to put the moves on you if that's what you're worried about.”

“You got moves?” Emily smirked. “What are you gonna do, charm me with your World of Warcraft knowledge? Hypnotize me with the list of purple objects you found in one raid?” She asked, cracking her back again. Kevin crossed his arms and smirked. “No, seriously - I'd love to see your moves someday.”

“Why?” Emily shrugged.

“I just think it would be fun to see.”

She was bringing groceries back to the church when her phone rang. She struggled to get it out of her pocket while driving. The screen flashed Dean’s picture.

“Hello?” she answered the call.

“Hey, kid,” said Dean’s voice. Emily frowned. “At least one of you kept your phones up and running.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah, uh- Look, I’m in Louisiana,” he said. “Can we meet?”

“Wait, Dean- you-”

“Yeah, I’m alive,” he said. “Look, it’s… it’s kinda hard to explain on the phone, where-”

“Sure, uh… I’ll text you the address, okay?”

“Kevin?” she called, entering the church. He didn’t answer. She walked over to the altar and took off his headphones. “Hey, I gotta tell you something.” Kevin looked at her for a second, then pushed away from the table, the chair scraping against the old church floor.

“What’s going on?” he asked. Emily smiled. “What?”

“Dean’s coming here,” she said. Kevin’s eyes widened. “He just called me, he’s-he’s back, I-I-”

“Wait, back up a second,” Kevin said. “He’s alive?”

“Yeah!” Emily smiled.

“Like you’ve been saying for like- a year?” Emily nodded. “Wow,” he said. “You seem… happy,” he said.

“That’s because I am happy,” she explained. “Jesus, I knew it!” she said. “I knew he was alive, it- it just didn’t make any sense!” Kevin stood up, and Emily hugged him. She didn’t know why, she was just happy. Happy in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“O-okay, we’re hugging,” Kevin said. “This is weird.”

“What?” Emily let him go. “It’s just a hug!”

“That’s not what’s weird,” Kevin explained. “Seeing you so happy you’re hugging me is weird.”

“Well, my brother’s alive, give me a break,” Emily complained.

“Okay, so… not to kill your whole vibe, but… Does he know about Sam?” Emily’s smile vanished. “Sorry.”

“Crap,” Emily said. “Shit.”

“You know he’s gonna ask, right?”

“Yeah,” Emily said. She put a hand in her pocket and took out some weed.

“Really?” Kevin asked.

“I gotta think,” she said. “You work for three days straight, you don’t get to judge me.”

It wasn’t more than twelve hours later that someone knocked on the church door. She put down the beer and hurried to open the door. Behind it, Dean. Standing. Alive. Real, and right in front of her. Emily knew exactly what she should have done. She should have gotten some holy water, some silver, some iron. Checked if it was really him.

Did she do it?

No.

She had known, all that time, Dean wasn't really dead. And him standing in front of her was the proof. She lunged towards him to hug him, but he stepped back and sprayed her with holy water. “What-” Taken by surprise, Emily froze in place as the cold water ran down her and soaked her shirt and overalls. “I’m not a d-” She closed her mouth as she felt more water splash on her face. “Dean-” She tried to say, shaking the borax out of her eyes with her hands. Just as he did so, Dean grabbed her arm trying to check her with silver. Feeling the pressure of Dean’s hands on her wrist, Emily reacted. With one move, she threw Dean on the ground, face down, and blocked his arms behind him. “Jesus- Dean!” she complained, seeing he was trying to escape her grapple. “Stop! I can do it myself-” She tried to hold him down as strong as she could, but Dean quickly turned the situation upside down.

“You’re a little rusty.” Dean smirked, handing her the knife. Emily shoved it out of his hand and used it to cut her arm.

“See?” she sighed. “Fucking clean.” Dean moved away from her and stood back up. He took the bottles of borax and holy water and handed them to her. “What- Dean, come on.” Dean rolled his eyes, annoyed. He stood back up and poured the rest of the bottles on himself. Emily sighed and handed Dean the knife.

“Okay, now that we’re fucking drenched in chemicals, can we say hi?” Emily asked. Dean crossed his arms and looked at her sighing. “What?” she asked, annoyed.

"You're still wearing those fucking overalls." he said. Emily let out a huff. She took a step towards him.

“Yeah well, you’re still fucking annoying,” she said before hugging him. After a second of hesitation, Dean’s hand landed on Emily’s shoulder. “I fucking knew it- I knew you were alive.” she whispered. Emily pulled away from the hug. “What happened to you?”

“I-” Dean sighed, his voice imperceptibly shaky. He closed his eyes for a long moment. “When Dick exploded, I- I went straight to Purgatory.”

“Oh,” said Emily, surprised. “So, that’s where you’ve been? How did you-”

“I mostly ran for my life,” said Dean. Emily’s hands moved from Dean’s face to his shoulder.

“How did you get out?”

“It’s- It’s complicated. I’m back. That’s- Yeah, I’m back.” Dean crossed his arms and tapped his fingers over his elbow. Emily nodded. She looked around. If Dean ever came back, she had expected him to be with Castiel, but the angel wasn’t around. She looked at Dean and debated asking about the angel, but chose not to. She hugged him again.

"Since when you're a hugger?" asked Dean. Emily shrugged and didn’t answer. "It's nice to see you too, kid." Emily felt a lump forming in her throat, but swallowed it back. “Are you going to invite me in or are we going to hang out here all night?” With a chuckle, Emily moved away from Dean and followed him inside. “Where’s Sam?” asked Dean. Emily looked at Dean and crossed his arms. Kevin walked out the bathroom and froze. Dean saw him and looked at Emily. She looked away. “What the hell is going on?” he asked. Emily looked at Kevin.

“I'll grab you two a couple of beers,” said Kevin.

“I haven't heard from Sam in almost a year,” said Emily. Dean frowned. “When you and- and- Dick- when you disappeared, I tried to look for you. But Sam, uh-” Yeah, she’d thought about it the whole night, but there was no easy way to put it. “He couldn’t handle it.”

“What?” Dean frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Last time I heard from him he was in the psych ward and did not want to see me,” she said. Dean looked away. “Which, you know, is good, because it means he’s alive.”

“So you… just left him behind?” he asked. Kevin walked towards them with the beers. Emily took one, begging Kevin not to leave with her eyes. He stood in between her and Dean, uncomfortable.

“No, I went there- we went there like a bunch of times, but- he won’t see me, so…” Emily looked at the floor and cleared her voice. Dean didn’t answer. “Thanks,” she said to Kevin. He made his way back to the altar. “I kept working, you know- by myself.”

“And what is he doing here?” asked Dean, pointing at Kevin. Emily sighed. “Dick’s dead, why isn’t he back to his mom?”

“There's… a second tablet. The demon tablet.” Dean's eyes widened. Emily sighed.

“So… you’re into puppy rescues now?” he asked. Emily shrugged.

“Dean, the demon tablet says how to close the gates of hell,” she explained. “Like- forever.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it's... it's three trials.” Emily looked away, knowing full well Dean could come to the conclusion the trials were deadly himself. “I already started them.”

“You're kidding.”

“No, man, I'm being serious. Look, I opened the gates, okay?” she explained. “I’m gonna fix it.”

“So, what's the deal? You do these trials and then what?”

“Uhm,” Emily sighed. “Death, I guess.”

“Dude!” yelled Dean, getting Kevin's attention. “Death? Seriously? Are you really that far off?!”

“Dean, this isn't just a way to kill myself, okay? I'm trying to do what's best. You know- for everyone and not just for me?” she said. Dean paced towards the bathroom door.

“If you really wanted to do what's best you'd keep fighting the fight!” he complained.

“Dean, this is permanent!” Emily yelled. “Closing the gates means no more demons! There’s not gonna be a fight to fight anymore!”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” Dean asked. Emily scoffed.

“I'm sure the world will be fine without me!” she complained.

“Yeah, but maybe I won't!” said Dean. Emily looked at him. He sat down on a bench.

“Dean,” she called. “I'm sorry, okay? But you were gone. Sam hates me. Bobby's dead. I had to go on by myself.”

“I know,” he said. He stood up and walked towards the door. “I- I- I’ll give you a call. I’m gonna go find Sam.”

Emily laid on the bed next to Kevin. He paused the movie he was watching.

“Are you okay?”

“I don't know,” she whispered. “I know I should be happier Dean's back, but…” She took a deep breath. “He's mad at me and- and he's gone again, so…”

“He's alive, just like you've been saying all year.”

“Yeah, but… is he? When he talked about being in purgatory, he… I can tell he went through some rough shit down there.” she explained, holding herself up on her elbows.

“If Dean is half as tough as you are he's going to be fine,” Kevin smiled. That was a weird moment to give her a compliment, but it meant good mood, so she moved closer to him.

“What are you watching?” she asked.

“Five hundred days of summer,” Kevin answered, pointing at the screen.

“Five hundr- what? Why?” she asked. Kevin shrugged. “Isn't it like a- a- chick flick or something?”

“Your hard drive is very limited in choice,” said Kevin.

“Dude, I have like 200 hundred movies!”

“How many of them are not musicals?” Emily looked at him and shook her head.

“Take off your headphones, I wanna watch that too.”

“Damn, I like Summer so much,” Emily smiled. “I feel like me and her would be really good friends.” Kevin huffed. “Also, I think we'd have really good sex.”

“Now that I think about it, you do have a lot of things in common.”

“Really?” Emily crossed her arms. “Like what?”

“Like being afraid of commitment,” he said. “and being like- super weird,”

“I'm not weird!” she complained. “You're weird!” Kevin looked at her and blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“I'm weird?” he huffed. “Dude, you have a gun collection, you know all the lyrics to like- a hundred musicals!”

“And?”

“That's weird!” Kevin said. Emily pushed him off the mattress with a laugh.

“If I'm weird, you can sleep on the floor.” Kevin climbed back on the mattress. “Don’t worry, I don't mind you being a weirdo.”

“I mean, we've been living together for like a year,” she said. “I better have grown on you.” Kevin shrugged. “Wait, what do you mean ‘being afraid of commitment’?” she asked. “What would you know about that?”

“I know you won’t be friends with anybody,” he said. “And that you try to get a one night stand everywhere we go.”

“That is inaccurate,” Emily complained. “Your data is biased, advanced placement, I don’t have a problem with commitment, I just don’t do love.”

“Why the hell not?” Kevin asked. “Everybody wants that, right?”

“Wrong,” Emily said. “I don’t look for that stuff, I’m good with having no strings.”

“Okay,” Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Weirdo.”

“Right back at ya,” Emily huffed and stood up. Just a few weeks prior, a conversation like that would have led to a fight, but something had changed: maybe it was that he was taking more breaks and he wasn’t completely on the way to insanity anymore, or maybe he was really growing on her and so she’d stopped being a complete asshole, but living in the church had been a very different experience from what it had been in the past. Emily would have dared to say that it was nice and that maybe Kevin and her were friends. If she suspected Kevin would be up for more than that? Yes, but she’d rather not think about it. When one of the mattresses hit the fan and blew out, he didn’t think twice to propose sharing. Which was… a thing friends did. At least that’s what Emily told herself. He never slept in it anyway.

Dean came back two weeks later. He entered the church and groaned. He threw his bag in a corner and walked right to Emily.

“Where the hell were you?” she asked. “It took you two weeks to drive to South Dakota and back? Where’s Sam?”

“In the car,” he answered. Emily didn’t wanna know how he’d convinced him. “We took a detour, took a couple cases, and get this: Men of Letters.” Emily blinked twice.

“What?” she asked, confused, trying to look for Sam through the doorway, but Dean closed it.

“Dad’s dad, part of a secret society or stuff like that, they had a secret bunker and we have the keys,” Dean showed her a big, old key.

“Okay, this is making less sense the more you speak, you said secret bunker?” she asked. Dean nodded. “From something called the Men of Letters?” Dean nodded again. “Okay, what’s in the secret bunker?”

“Oh, kid, what’s not in it?” Dean said. “Dude, it’s like a damn hotel, you’ll love it.” He dangled the key in front of her face. Emily took it and examined it. “Ready to go when you are.”

“Woah, wait,” she said. “Where’s Sam? I want to speak with him.” The door opened again and Sam entered. He looked at her. He looked better, somehow. “Hey,” she said. Kevin looked up from his notes. She felt his eyes on her neck and scratched it. Sam’s mind felt calm, nothing like what she felt before he left. He was okay. Kinda.

“Yup,” he said. “All good.”

“I can see that,” she said. She turned towards Kevin for a second, who quickly went back to his notes.

“Can we… uh- can we talk?” Sam asked. Emily sighed and nodded. She followed him outside the church and down the steps. “Look, I just wanted to-”

“It’s been a year, Sam, what the hell happened?” she asked. “You know how many times I tried to come see you?”

“Yeah, about that,” Sam whispered. “I’m sorry, Emily, I- I needed time, I- I needed to figure out who I am, and- and it would have been hard with you around.”

“But the moment Dean comes, you follow him?” she asked. “I don’t buy it.”

“You really think Dean gave me a choice?” Sam asked. “He practically dragged me out of there after ripping me a new one.” Emily rolled her eyes. “But he was right, I- I left you to fend for yourself and it wasn’t right, I- I should have been out here helping you figure this thing out.”

“So he told you?” Emily asked. “About the trials?”

“Yup,” he answered. Emily sighed. “I know he wants me to, I don’t know, tell me you fucked up, but to tell the truth, I’d have done the same.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m glad you’re back, Sam.”

“Me too, kid,” Sam smiled. “Even if I had to take one in the face from Dean to figure it out, he’s right, my place is out here.”

“Yeah,” Emily scoffed. “Jesus, he’s an asshole.”

“What, you’d forgotten?” Sam huffed. Emily smiled. “So, new house, are you coming?” he asked. Emily looked back inside the church, where Dean was talking with Kevin.

“Uh- I don’t know yet,” Emily said. “Kinda have something to figure out here.”

“I’m sure Kevin will be fine if he’s alone,” Sam said. “It’s a church, he’s safe.”

“We’ll see,” Emily sighed. Sam crossed his arms. “You want something to eat?” he nodded. “I gotta warn you, we only got vegetarian hotdogs and energy drinks.”

“Gotta pass on the energy drink, but I’ll have a hotdog,” Sam said with a smile. Emily smiled, too: she hadn’t imagined a day Sam would have accepted a hotdog. She walked back inside the church and to the electric stove. She took the hotdogs out the fridge, washed out some mold from them and put them on.

“So?” Kevin walked to her. “What did he say?”

“He looks better,” she said, looking back at Sam. “Still ignored me for a year, but I guess I’ll have to get over that.”

“Dean, he…” Kevin trailed off. “He said something about you leaving with them.” Emily frowned.

“He did?” she asked. “I never said I was going to.”

“You didn’t?” Kevin asked, crossing his arms. “I think you should go, this… bunker, it sounds like a better place than here.”

“First of all, I’m not leaving you here, and second-”

“No, actually,” Kevin interrupted her. “I think you should, you know- leave me here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Emily asked. “You wanna stay here? Alone?”

“Honestly?” Kevin asked. Emily nodded and turned the hotdogs in the pan. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, Sam and Dean are back, and I can hardly work with just you around, and you… you shut up during the day. Dean has not let me work for half a second since he got here.”

“Okay, but… I don’t know, I wouldn’t feel safe knowing you’re here alone.”

“I’m gonna be fine,” Kevin said. “And you’re only a few states over, if something happened you could just drive eighty again to save me.” Emily huffed. “Really, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. He didn’t look sure, but he still nodded. Emily sighed. “Okay, but you call me, okay? Don’t go missing.”

“You already know I won’t,” Kevin smirked. Emily shook her head. She handed him a hotdog and he took a bite out of it. She shook her head with a smile.

Emily put her stuff in her bag and left the church. Kevin was bent over the tablet and Dean already had the engine running. She looked back one last time and took a deep breath. He was gonna be fine. Of course he was. It wasn’t like all the demons and all the angels were looking for him. He was perfectly safe. Kevin looked up and at her for a second before going back to the tablet. She closed her eyes and walked to the car. She threw her backpack in the back and sat behind Dean.

“You ready to go?” he asked. Emily looked inside the church again. She heard Dean snicker and hit Sam’s shoulder.

“What?” she asked. Sam shrugged. “What?!”

“Oh, come on,” Dean said. “What’s going on here, uh?” he pointed to Kevin. Emily frowned.

“Nothing,” she answered. “Why?”

“I don't know,” said Dean. “You've been living together all this time, and you didn't- you know- not even once?” he drove off the church.

“Dude, what the hell?” Emily complained. “No, of course not!”

“How do you deal with stress?!” he asked.

“Not with sex!” she yelled. “Like- imagine the mess this would become!”

“I thought you were good with no strings attached things,” Sam said. Dean nodded along, all proud of his theory.

“Yeah, do you think Kevin is?” asked Emily. Dean shrugged.

“So, how did it go?”

“We got some close calls,” said Emily. “But we always managed to pull through.”

“How many times did you guys almost kill each other?” he asked.

“A few,” Emily smirked. “We… we separated for a few weeks last month. But then…” she sighed. Dean turned towards her. “He drove to my motel- drunk, to try and get me back.”

“Wow,” Dean laughed. “Now I understand what you mean when you say sex wouldn't be a good idea.”

“Yup,” she sighed.

“He’s going crazy for you, isn't he?” Sam asked.

“It's a possibility,” she said. “Obviously We- we haven't talked about it, but you know… he's not very good at hiding it.”

“Hold it,” said Dean, putting down his hamburger on the Bunker’s table. Emily sighed and brought her beer to her lips. “You took on a hellhound, alone?”

“No, Kevin was with me!” said Emily. Dean raised his eyebrows.

“So, you took on a hellhound, alone, while babysitting?”

“We did fine.” she said. “He didn't even need to use his gun.”

“You gave Kevin a gun?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.

“A big one, for that matter. Look- what was I supposed to do?!” she asked. “He wanted to come, and wouldn’t take no for an answer!”

“So you're not only suicidal, you're also homicidal. Is that what you're trying to tell me?” said Dean. Sam hit his chest with the back of his hand.

“Come on, dude,” he complained.

“Kevin's not an idiot, okay?” Emily said. “I taught him how to handle the gun and he was fine.” Dean looked at her and took a bite of his hamburger. “Okay, he was hurt and vomited a bunch after he saw someone getting killed, but he was fine in the end!”

“Oh, sorry if I underestimated your boyfriend!” Dean said, cleaning his mouth with his sleeve. Emily scoffed. “I guess he forgot to mention he took AP shooting at school!”

“You're not funny!” said Emily. “And he's not my boyfriend!”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam said. “But, you know, only one mattress at the church, so…”

“Wait, really?” Dean turned towards Sam. “You guys sleep in the same bed?!”

“We used to have two, but, you know… One of them broke,” she explained.

“Okay, get a new one,” Dean said. “It’s not like Bobby left you with fifty cents.”

“I’m not spending Bobby’s inheritance on camping gear so I can convince you two that me and Kevin are not an item!” she complained. “Look, we’re gonna have to figure out a schedule with the car because I left my truck in South Dakota and I need to go see Kevin at least once a week.”

“For what? Miss him after a while?” Dean snickered. Emily rolled her eyes. “Okay, sorry, just- there’s a bunch of old cars in the garage, just take one.”

Emily sat in the church, holding two UNO cards in her left hand while laying on the bench. Kevin was sitting across from her, finally taking a break after Emily had to basically drag him out of the chair.

“I don’t know, Dean’s weird,” she said, staring at the ceiling. “Apart from the fact that he’s unusually friendly with me, he… I don’t know, he’s got something weird about him when he hunts.” Kevin looked at his cards and didn’t say anything. “He’s- I don’t know, he looks on edge.”

“Okay,” Kevin sighed. “But you should make your move.” Emily lifted her head off the bench as Kevin waved his cards at her. “You know, it's been your turn for quite a while.”

“Sorry…” Emily played her card and sighed. “Uno.”

“Oh.” Kevin squinted and counted his cards. He threw them on the bench. “I give up.” he sighed. “Can I ask you something?” Emily nodded and sat up. “What do you mean ‘unusually nice’? He’s your brother, I- I don’t know, I’d expect him to be nice to you almost all the time.” Emily sighed

“I don't know.” Kevin frowned. “I mean, I know. But it's a long story.” he looked at her. “A lot of stuff happened in the past ten years, kinda hard to sum it up.”

“Okay…” Kevin sighed. “I’m gonna take the hint that you don’t want to talk about it.” Emily smiled.

“Harry Potter?” she asked. Kevin nodded. Emily reached for her laptop. “We have to hurry up if we want to watch them all before the trials kill me.” Emily turned towards Kevin, expecting a laugh that never came. “What?” she asked. “It’s a joke.” Kevin shook his head.

“Yeah, just… You know, I'm not sure death is… funny.” Emily shrugged.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “We have to laugh about something, don't we?” Kevin didn’t answer. Emily pulled up the movie and started it.

“Emily, listen, I-” Kevin looked around for a second. Emily crossed her arms. He shook his head again. “Do you think we could go and see my mom one of these days?” Emily paused the movie.

“I- I don't know. It's not a good idea, Crowley's probably got her under surveillance.”

“Yeah, But- we can go together,” he said. “We'll be careful.”

“Kevin…” Emily trailed off. Kevin stood up and walked away. “I’m sorry, okay? Maybe we- we can figure out a way to send her a message to let her know you're okay, but-”

“It’s fine,” he said. Kevin walked to the altar and put both hands on it. Emily followed him.

“Seriously, I’m sorry, okay? I- I'll try to figure another way.”

“I said it's fine!” Kevin sat back at the altar and pulled up his notes.

Next weekend, Dean dropped her off at the church on the way to a case while Sam was following up on a lead on Abaddon, the Knight of Hell they’d tried to trap back when she was still living at the church, Emily walked inside the building and found it empty. She frowned.

“Kevin?” When only the echo answered her, she walked towards the altar, behind which usually was Kevin's bed, but it was gone. Everything was gone, which could only mean one thing: he left. Not kidnapped, not taken, he’d just left. Emily looked around. She searched the floor with her glare, looking for a hint, any hint that would tell her where Kevin was.. “Come on, Kevin, don’t leave me hanging…” She walked to the corner where their bags used to be. “Come on, come on…” She noticed a piece of paper in a corner. Emily took the piece of paper and turned it. It was a picture of him and his mother. She took her phone and called Dean.

“You need to turn back,” she said as she heard his voice.

“What?”

“Kevin's gone.”

Emily sat in the Impala and put on her seatbelt. Dean looked at her and re-entered the road.

“Where to?” he asked. Emily looked at him.

“Don't hate me,” she said. “But we gotta go to Michigan.” Dean sighed. “I know, but that's where he's going.”

“Don't sweat it kid, just know we're gonna have to stop for gas,” he said. Emily nodded and twirled a strand of hair between two fingers. “Don’t panic, okay? We know where he’s going and he can’t drive that fast.”

“Oh, he can,” Emily said. “I just hope he took the bus.” Dean sighed. “What if something happens to him?” she asked. Dean smirked. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Just- you're sure you don't like him back?” Emily rolled her eyes. “Come on, not even a little bit?”

“Dude,” Emily sighed. “Of course I don't.” Dean huffed. “I think I'd know, wouldn't I?”

“Yeah, you'd also lie about it,” Dean said. Emily shook her head. “We’ll see who's right.”

Emily leaned on the wall of the bus station. She played with a strand of hair, rolling it back and forth her finger endlessly, under Dean’s amused glare.

“Emily, why are you so worried?” he said. “We already know he’s fine, you kept his phone tracked the entire way over here. He’s on this bus.”

“I know. I’m just…” Emily sighed. “Imagine if one of Crowley's demons found him. He could have died.” Dean failed to hide a smirk.

“Are you mad at him?”

“Yeah- kinda.” Emily stared in front of her. Dean remained silent and nodded towards the bus that was coming in. Emily saw Kevin through one of the windows and pushed herself off the wall and walked towards the bus door. Dean looked at Emily as she crossed her arms, nervously waiting for Kevin to walk off the bus. When he did, he stopped in front of Emily.

“What are you doing here?” he said. Emily closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down. He was fine. Nothing had happened. But it could have. It could have happened and if it did, it would have been because he acted recklessly, which was exactly what she’d told him not to do.. Emily's hand flew faster than she could stop herself. When she realized she'd slapped him, getting the attention of more than a few people around them, Kevin was already massaging his cheek, confused. Emily looked at her hand.

“Sorry,” she said. “Jesus-” Emily turned away from Kevin and took a deep breath. She tried to push back the tears that were trying to escape her control. “Jesus, I hate you-” she said, not talking with Kevin, it was barely a hiss, just loud enough for Dean to hear. He turned towards Kevin and said something, but she didn't hear it. She closed her eyes, the world starting to get blurry. She felt her heart pound on her ears, insisting on reminding her how much she fucked up. Her mind cleared the second she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Dean.

“Emily,” he called. Emily shook her head but took a deep breath and turned towards Kevin. He was looking at her, nervously biting his nails.

“Sorry,” Emily repeated.

“Why did you do that?” asked Kevin. “I just wanted to see my mom!”

“Kevin, Crowley's looking for you. What would have happened if one of his demons had found you?!”

“I was careful!” he complained. Emily shook her head.

“How?! I doubt you checked every person on the bus, did you?” Kevin looked at her and sighed. “Didn't think so.”

“I need to know if my mom is okay,” he said.

“We talked about this!” said Emily. “She's gonna be surrounded by demons, it's… you're literally walking to Crowley and offering him your ass!” Kevin crossed his arms.

“How come you can risk your life to close the gates of hell, but I can't even see my mom?” he complained.

“Kevin, of course you can see your mom, just- you need to be careful, okay? This isn't a game!”

“You think I don't know?!” he said. “I’m the one who has to live in fear, paranoid someone's going to find me, unable to sleep, while you- you’re never worried for a second! This is my life, not yours!”

“What?!” Emily scoffed. “I dropped everything to help you- the least you can do is show some fucking gratitude and not get killed!”

“Oh, I’m grateful! I’m grateful I don't need you to take care of myself, so now I can go- and see my mom without you being up my ass!” Emily opened her mouth to answer, but Dean interjected.

“Alright, you’re starting to sound like an old married couple, stop it, okay?” Emily rolled her eyes. “Kevin, you're not going alone. Emily’s right, your house is going to be surrounded by demons, we’re coming with you.”

“Whatever.” Kevin started walking towards the exit.

“Oh, so- he can help you?!” said Emily, starting to follow him. Kevin turned towards her, coming so close to Emily’s face that she had to take a step back and they were still too close.

“I don't need you to survive,” he said. “I can take care of myself.” Emily averted Kevin’s gaze and saw him swallow. Too close. She thought. Definitely too close. Why the fuck was he not moving? Emily frowned. Kevin’s eyes nervously moved from one part of her face to another until Dean cleared his voice and Emily was reminded she could actually move and pushed Kevin away from her. He started walking towards the exit, Emily hesitated.

“Dude,” said Dean. “Not your boyfriend, uh?” Emily ignored him and followed Kevin outside the bus station.

Emily and Dean stood outside the tattoo parlor as Kevin and his mom got their anti possession tattoo.

“Dude, are you sure this is the right call?” Emily asked. “Having to babysit Kevin is one thing, but having to also babysit his mother-”

“Hey, you heard the woman, she wasn’t having any of it.”

“We could have ignored her, picked both of them up and locked them in the church,” Emily said. Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Is that how you deal with stuff now? Just- force people?” he asked.

“I learned from the best,” she sighed, walking towards a vending machine. Dean followed her.

“Or- you could learn from my mistakes instead,” he answered. Emily scoffed. “I mean it.”

“It’s only a mistake if the outcome is not good, but look at me, I’m fine, right?” she asked, putting money inside the machine.

“Are you?” Dean asked. Emily rolled her eyes. “What the hell happened to you this past year?”

“Let it go, Dean, nothing happened, I just figured out you were right all along,” she said. A can of soda fell to the bottom of the vending machine. Emily leaned down to get it.

“How’d you figure that?” Dean put his hands on his waist.

“Someone has to be the bad guy when everyone else’s trying to only take shitty decisions,” she explained. “You weren’t there to back me up, Cas wasn’t there to heal us, it was just me, Sam letting himself die on my couch and Kevin trying to get killed any chance possible.” When she mentioned Cas, Dean’s hands stopped on the vending machine keypad for a second.

“Yeah,” he sighed. Emily swallowed.

“Dean, what-”

“Cas didn’t make it, okay?” he said, waiting for the vending machine to drop his drink.

“Okay,” Emily sighed. “Sorry.”

“Yeah,” Dean walked away from the vending machine and went to sit on a bench. Emily stayed by the vending machine and looked away.

Emily slammed the locker closed. The locker where Kevin had said he’d ‘safely’ left the demon tablet. The same locker which was now empty.

“Nice!” she yelled. “Hiding the word of god in a bus station locker? What could go wrong?!” Kevin flopped on a bench next to his mom. Emily put her hands on her waist. “So, advanced placement, what do we do now?”

“Don't call me that!” he complained.

“I’ll call you however I want!” she said. “Nobody in their right mind would hide something in a bus station locker! These things-” Emily walked to another locker and yanked it open. “They don't even close, smart guy!”

“I’m sorry, okay? It's not like I wanted it to get stolen!” he said. Emily rolled her eyes and felt Dean's hand on her arm, dragging her away.

“What?!” She glanced back at Kevin, who seemed to be arguing with his mother.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” said Dean.

“I’m fine,” Emily scoffed. Dean put his hands on his waist.

“Don’t you think you should lay off the kid a little bit?”

“Again with this shit?” she asked. “I mean, you see this?” Emily waved the empty diaper bag in front of him. “How am I supposed to trust a person that does this?”

“What, like you never fucked up?” he said. “You've made your fair share of mistakes- you opened the fucking gates to hell!”

“Oh, so we're talking mistakes?!” she said. “Let's talk mistakes!”

“Don’t bring me into this!” Dean complained. Emily rolled her eyes. “Come on, he's a kid- give him some grace!”

“Where was this grace when I fucked up?!” asked Emily. “Because all I remember was breakdown after breakdown, where you refused to help, where you-”

“I refused to help?” Said Dean. “Someone brought you back to Bobby's and it sure as hell wasn't Sam! Or dad! It was me, and it was me that had to endure your twenty minutes of incoherent screams and it was me who had to throw you in the shower to make you stop crying! So don't talk to me about giving you grace, I gave you grace!”

“What grace? I killed myself, for God's sake!” Emily looked at Dean. He brushed his face with his hand. “You see this? Now? This is why you and I don’t work, like- ever.” said Emily. “I’ll go talk to the security guy. Stay with them.” Emily pointed at Kevin and his mother before she started walking towards the crowd, looking for the guard.

Emily hesitated outside the interrogation room. Dean didn't look back and walked in. He hadn't talked to her in hours, making her pay back saying they would never work. Kevin hadn't talked to her either, and Linda Tran just scowled at her. She unbuttoned the first button on her shirt and finally entered the room.

“Mister Smedley, right?” she asked. The man nodded. “I understand you've been stealing from the lockers in the bus station?”

“Yeah. That Jerry is smart. He got me.” The man laid back in his chair.

“Well, you stole something you shouldn't have,” said Dean. “Poked a couple of heads up high.”

“It's a tablet. Stone, weird incisions,” Emily explained. “Where is it?”

“I don't think I should discuss that without my lawyer,” said the man, smug. Emily smiled.

“I’m sure me and my partner can work something out with the local police,” she said. “Drop a couple of your charges.”

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “You drop all of my charges, give me a look at those-” He pointed at her chest. Emily felt a shiver down her spine. “And I’ll tell you where it is.” She glanced back at Dean, who had been pacing behind her, but had stopped. In the silence that followed, Dean walked behind the man and took off his tie. Emily was about to speak again, when Dean grabbed the thief from his suit and slammed him against the wall. Emily closed her eyes, startled. When she opened them again, Dean had wrapped his tie around the man's neck and was pushing a knife to his throat. “Dean!” she called.

“Still want to see my sister's boobs?” he asked. “Or would you rather just tell me where the tablet is?”

“You didn't need to do that,” said Emily, stripping out of her shirt and shoving it in her bag. Dean didn't answer. “I can take care of a creep without you stepping in.”

“You're welcome,” said Dean, closing his bag. “You ready or what?”

“Do I look like I’m ready?” Emily said. “I need a second, okay?”

“Okay, seriously, what is going on?” asked Dean. “And don't say you're fine because I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood either.” Emily wore a clean shirt. “Which badge are you bringing?” she asked.

“The ones you made, I’m… umh- Ryan McCartan,” he said. Emily closed her bag and left the room without saying a word.

Emily entered the pawn shop followed by Dean, Kevin and Linda Tran. “Hello sir, agents Wilbert and McCartan, FBI.” She showed her fake badge. “We’re looking for a tablet, stone, hieroglyphic marks all over it.”

“A thief named Clef sold it to you,” said Dean. “Ring any bells?”

“Nope.” the clerk said. Emily looked at Dean.

“Look,” he said. “I’ve had a very bad day today, so I’m not in the mood. If you want to do this the rough way, I’m very happy to oblige.”

“Sure,” said the clerk. “If you want to get famous.” He pointed at the security cameras. Linda Tran walked to the counter.

“Is that your car outside?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said the clerk. “Why?” Dean was about to interject, but Emily stopped him.

“I noticed you're driving with expired tags, maybe because you just acquired it in a trade, and I’m guessing that means you haven't registered it yet, which means you haven't paid the tax. Is that correct?” The clerk raised his eyebrows.

“That's none of your business.”

“Kevin-” said Linda. “Average blue book on a 2010 Ferrari F430 Spider?”

“217 thousand dollars,” said Kevin.

“And the 5% Wyoming tax?” Emily answered before Kevin could.

“10 thousand 850 dollars,” she said. Kevin scowled at her. Dean rolled his eyes.

“That's quite some money you owe,” he said.

“What is this, an FBI audit?”

“No-” said Linda. “But my brother, who happens to work for the Wyoming tax assessor’s office, could arrange that if he thought something untoward was happening here.” The clerk took a step back. “So, what's it gonna be, the tablet or that piece of trash you call a car?”

Emily knocked on room 126. When no one answered, she knocked again.

“Are you sure you read the address right?” she asked Kevin. He rolled his eyes.

“I know how to read an address,” he hissed.

“Kevin?” said an unfamiliar voice. Emily turned to see a man in a suit and a top hat.

“Depends. Who’s asking?” Emily put her hands on her waist.

“Oh don’t worry,” said the man. “I’m not going to steal your prophet.” The man walked closer to Emily. “Beau. My pleasure.” He then turned towards Kevin. “Imagine my luck. Here I was, working so hard looking for you- that I never stopped to think you might be looking for me.” Beau theatrically extracted something from his pocket. “I have something for you.” Emily tried to take it, but Beau moved his hand away and kept looking at Kevin.

“It’s an invitation, dear man, to a very exclusive auction.”

“Let me guess- where you’ll be selling the tablet,” said Dean.

“Well, when we acquire an item as hot as the Word of God, it's smart to unload it as fast as possible,” Beau explained. “And we are in such desperate need of a headliner for tonight's gala.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“I hope you have some extras,” she said. “because there’s no way Kevin’s getting in there alone.” Beau smiled.

“If you’re worried about the safety of the Prophet-”

“Yeah- yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. And there’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind, so you better let us in, dick.”

“Charming. The gossip was right,” said Beau. “Well, if you put it like that, I’ll just go ahead and add a plus three to the invitation.” He threw the invitation in the air and disappeared. Dean sighed.

“So, what do we have to bid?”

“I doubt demonic auctions take money, Dean.” Emily looked at Kevin and squinted. “But I don’t think we need anything to bid, right?” Kevin raised his eyebrows as Emily took a step towards him. “You have good memory,” she said. Linda Tran put her hands on her waist.

“Of course he has.”

“Prove it. Periodic table, start from the bottom, by number, not by position.” Kevin opened his mouth to start. “Start from number 81.”

“Thallium, Mercury, Gold, Platinum, Iridium, Rhenium- Do you want me to keep going?” he crossed his arms.

“You think you can memorize the spell if you see it?”

“That’s lightweight,” said Kevin. Emily scoffed.

“Oh is it? Because number 76 is not Rhenium, it’s Osmium.” Kevin rolled his eyes.

“Oh, you’re so good.” he hissed. “I’m sure if you were a prophet, you’d memorize all the spells.”

“Jesus, Kevin- Shut up, okay?” she walked away. Dean caught up with her and elbowed her in the ribcage. She pushed him away.

“Are you still sure you don't want to talk about it?” said Dean, looking at Emily as she tried to unbutton her shirt in the motel room. “You seem worked up.”

“Yes, Yes- Dean, I’m sure,” she said. “You know why? Because there’s nothing to talk about.” Emily fumbled with the buttons, growing more frustrated. Dean sighed and dropped on the bed next to where Emily was standing.

“Come on. Just tell me what's going on.”

“Dean, you don't have to do this, it's fine,” said Emily. “Also, you suck at it.”

“No, it's not. You're nervous and you're starting to be insufferable. It's making me want to punch you. So just spit it out.” Emily scoffed.

“Is that your way of trying to help or something?”

“I guess,” said Dean. Emily put her hands on her bag and drew a deep breath.

“Okay, listen…” she said. “I lied. About five, six months ago- I think something started happening between us. We… we didn't have any real gigs for a while and- and it just started to feel like normal life again, so- I guess I let my guards down,” she explained. Dean crossed his arms. “We started to flirt, you know? But then- We- We got attacked and it was a close call.”

“So?”

“So nothing ever happened again,” she sighed.

“So you do like him.”

“No, I-” Emily looked around. “I mean yeah, if you're only factoring sex in. But I- I'm not sure he-”

“You don't think it'd have been just sex for him?”

“Exactly,” she said. “When we were doing the first trial he turned jealous on me and I realized… I realized this might be a problem.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m supposed to die, and he’s supposed to help me,” said Emily. Dean sighed. “And I’m scared he’s going to… I don’t know, stop me, or- or do something-”

“And you think being a bitch to him is going to fix this or something?” asked Dean. Emily looked away. “Dude, if he really likes you- you can be a bitch all you want. He’s just going to think you hate him.” said Dean. “Do you?”

“No, of course not.” said Emily. “But I don’t- I don’t like him that way, okay?”

“If you say so.” Dean stood up and patted Emily’s back. “By the way,” he pointed to her t-shirt. “You look like a minion.” Emily frowned. “One of those yellow things from Despicable Me.”

“Fuck you, man,” Emily released a chuckle. “You think I look like Bob from Despicable Me? You should take a look at yourself.”

“I look amazing,” said Dean.

“Yeah, but you also look like every lesbian in every basic ass movie.” Dean stood up and checked himself in the mirror.

“Are you saying I look a gay woman?”

“Yeah.” said Emily. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Dean looked in the mirror and shrugged.

“Great!” said Emily, looking at how the tablet had been covered. “Looks like plan A is down the drain.”

“And what, pray tell, could possibly have been plan A?” Emily turned to see Crowley standing behind them. “Bring the Prophet to the most dangerous place on Earth, memorize the tablet, and then vamoose? Hello, boys. Ladies.” Crowley walked towards them. “Sheep, you kinda look like one of those yellow things from Despicable Me,” he said, a hint of mockery in his voice. “Where did you leave Moose?”

“Who?”

“Samuel. I thought you two were inseparable. Lived together, went crazy together- probably pooped together too.” Crowley smirked. “Did you also have sex with the same people, or…”

“Bite me, Crowley.”

“Sorry, not my type.” Crowley smirked. “This lovely thing, on the other side…” He walked closer to Mrs Tran. “Kevin, this must be your sister.”

Emily sat in a chair next to Kevin with a sigh and crossed her arms. Kevin glared at her and then went back to looking at the auction.

“Our first item, the amulet of Hesperus,” said the man on the stage.

“What a waste of time,” Emily whispered. Dean leaned over to her.

“Give me all your cash,” he said. Emily looked at him for a second, then opened her wallet and handed him one-hundred dollars.

“You know we aren’t gonna need those, right?” she complained. “A dude just bid dwarven gold.” Dean ignored her and collected money from everyone else. Emily glanced at the stack of bills. “Two thousand dollars and a costco membership? I’m sure demons can’t wait to buy wholesale packs of chips.”

“I don’t know, you have a plan ‘C’ by any chance?” Kevin asked. “You’re a genius, you should figure that out.”

“‘Do you’, Kevin, use your grammar,” Linda complained. Emily looked at Kevin and shook her head. Dean stood up and left.

“You know, none of this would be happening if you didn’t lose the damned thing,” Emily hissed, leaning closer to Kevin’s ear.

“Or if you just let me go to Michigan,” he answered.

“And you don’t think we could have figured out another way to contact your mom?”

“I think-” Dean came back to his seat and sighed.

“Plan ‘C’ tanked,” he complained. Emily rolled her eyes and was about to answer Kevin, but Crowley leaned in the middle of their chairs.

“Maybe you should try plan ‘D’ for ‘dumbass’,” he said.

“Our next lot,” said Beau on the stage. “The word of God.” He held the tablet up. “Capital ‘G’, very rare.” Crowley’s chair scraped on the floor and he stood up.

“Three billion dollars,” he said. Emily huffed. A man dressed as a fast food worker stood up, too.

“The Mona Lisa.”

“The real Mona Lisa,” Crowley said. “Where she’s topless.”

“Vatican City,” said the other man. Emily leaned towards Dean.

“Is that…”

“An angel? Yeah,” he said.

“Alright,” Crowley said. “The moon.” Emily leaned back towards him.

“Who’s looking like a character from Despicable Me now, uh?” she asked. Crowley looked at her and raised his eyebrows.

“You really think a man named Buzz gets to go to space without making a deal?” he asked. Emily shook her head.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” said Beau. “It seems that our reserve price has not been met. So, in order to stimulate the bidding, we’re going to add an item to this lot.” He pointed to Kevin. Emily was already standing up, but Dean held her in place. “Kevin Tran, prophet of the Lord.” Kevin disappeared and reappeared on stage.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked, trying to stand up.

“You’re gonna get us kicked out, then what?” he said. Emily shoved his hands off her arm and crossed them.

“So we just let them sell him? What are we gonna do then?”

“Guys!” Sam called from a few chairs over. He pointed to Linda Tran, who was standing up. Emily looked at the stage.

“Interesting,” said Beau. “Your soul?”

“If it’s souls you’re after, I can give you a million souls,” said Crowley. He then leaned towards Emily. “You know, Sheep, you really should try to pay attention at these events, lest you get into even more trouble.”

“It’s not about the quantity, Crowley, it’s about the sacrifice,” said Beau. “This little lady’s soul is the most valuable thing she had. It’s everything. Are you willing to offer everything, Mr. Crowley?” Emily looked back at him.

“Tick, tock, dumbass,” she said.

“Fine,” he said. “I offer my own soul!” The entire room laughed.

“Sure thing, Crowley,” Beau said. “Congrats, sweetheart, you win this round of auction.”

Emily looked at Sam and Dean talked with Linda as she smoked a cigarette by the window. Crowley walked towards her.

“I don’t think there’s a smoking rule in hell, Sheep,” he said.

“Shut up, Crowley,” she complained. “And consider yourself lucky I can’t kill you right now.”

“Have it your way, Sheep, but I could have helped, weren’t you so damned scornful all the time,” he said. Emily rolled her eyes.

“I heard one of your precious babies went missing,” she said. “Any idea what happened to him?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Crowley said. “I know it was you and your asian toyboy that killed Fuffy. He was my favourite.” Emily looked back at Linda and Kevin.

“What is he going to do with her soul?” she asked.

“Whatever he wants. sweetheart,” Crowley smirked. “Of course, nothing to do with what your precious Moose went through.”

“Am I supposed to consider that a win?” she asked. When she turned towards Crowley, he was gone. She sighed and stayed by the window to finish the cigarette, then walked towards Sam and Dean. Beau was just about to hand off Linda and Kevin, when Emily noticed something on Mrs Tran’s arm. She rushed the last few steps.

“Wait,” she called and grabbed her. She pulled up the sleeve to show everyone the anti-possession tattoo had been burned off. She looked at the woman and her eyes turned red, but she didn’t need that to know that it was Crowley.

“Hello, boys.” said Crowley's voice. With a fling on his finger, Dean went flying on the wall. Emily fell to the ground. “Sheep, why do you always have to make me put in effort?” he said. “You and your demon blood are insufferable.” With another fling of Mrs Tran's hand, Emily flew to the wall as well. She fell to the ground and stood up. Dean was already running after Crowley. Kevin tried to follow them, but Emily grabbed his arm.

“Stop!” she said, dragging him back into the room.

“Let me go!” Kevin complained. Emily shoved him further into the room.

“It’s not safe, okay? We need to get you away from here!” Kevin tried to fight back.

“I told you- I can take care of myself!” yelled Kevin, shoving his arm back. “I don't need you to help me!”

“I don’t give a shit what you think you need,” Emily said, following him through a hallway. “I have a job to do, so-” She turned the corner and stopped talking. Dean was pushing a knife at Mrs Tran's throat. “Dean!” she called. He turned, startled, and Mrs Tran smiled. A red smoke came out of her mouth.

“You’re unbelievable!” yelled Emily, entering the bunker. The car ride had been completely silent. She was mad, but she didn’t want to start a fight on a twelve hour drive. Sam walked past them as they were going down the stairs. “What made you think it was okay to try and kill his mother?!”

“Alright, listen,” said Dean. “Crowley possessed her, I was trying to do my job.” Emily scoffed.

“Your job?!” she yelled. “I’m sorry, I thought our job was saving people, not fucking murdering them!”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“An exorcism?” she said, “I don’t know- surely not try and kill her! No wonders they fucking ran god knows where!” she complained. “You can’t fuck up my stuff because you-” Emily rolled her eyes and swallowed her words.

“Because I what?” Dean asked. Emily ignored him and walked past him and towards her room. “Emily!”

“Stay out of this, okay?” she said, opening the door. Emily sat on her bed and took out her phone. One message from Kevin.

We lost the tablet, so you don't need me anymore. Don't bother trying to look for me.

Emily threw her phone across her bed, where it landed softly, screen up. Someone knocked on her door.

“Go away, Dean!” she said.

“It’s-uh- It’s me,” said Sam’s voice. Emily used her powers to open the door. He walked in. “Come on, kid, he’s gonna call you back. Maybe in a few days, when he calms down?” Sam said. Emily shook her head. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Sam, whatever you and Dean are thinking about me and Kevin- forget it, okay? There never was anything, and there never will be.”

“Okay,” Sam sat on the bed next to her and handed her her phone. “But you don’t think maybe that's the problem? That, I don't know- you think there's nothing and he doesn't and that's what's making you fight?”

“Okay, you know what?” Emily asked, standing up and going towards the door. “I don't wanna hear any more about this thing, you hear me? How about you two let me live my life?” she walked towards the stairs. Dean was still taking out something from his bag.

“Where are you going now?” he asked.

“None of your business!” she yelled. Emily started walking up the stairs.

“Can’t we just talk about this?” Sam asked. Emily scoffed.

“Yeah. Talk. Sure,” she opened the door and left, slamming it behind her. She drove to the church. She wasn't sure why, she knew it was going to be empty. She just drove there on instinct. She sat on one of the benches and stared at the altar. It was all her fault. She stayed silent until the church door opened. She turned, it was Dean.

“What do you want?” she asked. Dean walked up to her bench and sat next to her. He handed her a plastic bag. Inside, a hamburger. “What is this?”

“Shut up and eat,” said Dean. Emily smiled.

Make up your mind / Catch I’m falling

from Next To Normal

Emily threw her bag on the motel bed and sighed. She turned on a cigarette that Sam immediately tried to take away from her. She dodged him.

“I did not miss this,” she said.

“I can’t believe Kevin’s burned us again.” Dean sighed, opening a beer. “The kid’s like a criminal prodigy.” Emily opened her bag and took out an old t-shirt.

“I taught him the basics, it’s not my fault he’s like… a fraud genius,” she sighed. Sam looked at Dean’s beer and shook his head.

“Do you think he’s going to call you?” he asked. “At some point?”

“No,” Emily sighed. “I think the message he sent me was pretty clear.”

“And the hundred voicemails you left weren’t?” Emily turned towards Sam and frowned. “Hey, man- doesn’t matter how low you think you’re speaking, telepathy still works.”

“Will you ever consider not listening to Radio Emily all day?” Emily complained.

“Oh trust me, I wish I could,” Sam scoffed. “But unfortunately, you can’t tune me out all the time.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“I’ll go outside,” she said. “Please- tune to something else for a second.” Emily took her cigarette pack and walked outside. She sat behind the corner and took out a joint from it, throwing the cigarette away. She grabbed her phone and dialed Kevin’s number. As expected, it went to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s still me,” she said. “I know I- I left like a thousand messages, but…” She hesitated for a moment and brought the joint to her lips. “I just wanted to say sorry again and- if- if you get this, please- just… text me. I need to know you’re okay.” Emily sighed. “I know Dean scared you, so- if you want we-” Emily took a deep breath. I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “We don't need him, okay? He doesn't need to be involved.” She heard the door close and someone walking out. “Just… call me back, okay?”

“Benny?” said Dean's voice. “What did you do?” Emily didn't move, knowing if Dean realized she was hearing him, he'd have moved. “I’m sorry, you took on how many? Are you crazy?” Emily took one more puff of the weed and then threw it on the ground. “Okay- Text me the address, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Emily walked from behind the corner and next to Dean. He turned. “So, you spy on me now?”

“I was just having a smoke,” said Emily, waving the joint. Dean crossed his arms. “So, where are we going?”

“I have something to take care of,” said Dean. “You should stay, keep trying to look for Kevin.”

“Dean, we’re not going to find him until he wants us to,” she said. “Trust me.”

“You’re not coming with me,” said Dean. “It’s… it’s personal business.”

“Are you sure?” Emily touched Dean’s shoulder. “You- It sounded like this Benny was in trouble.”

“Okay, listen-” Dean looked behind Emily and in the motel. “I’m going to tell you something, but Sam can’t know, you hear me?” Emily nodded.

“Of course,” she said. “But I want to come with you.”

Emily waited in the car. The less chances they took with telepathy, the better. Dean walked back to the Impala and handed her her backpack and some clothes.

“So, what are we dealing with?” asked Emily. “Is Benny a hunter?”

“Not exactly,” Dean sighed. “But if I know him, it’s going to be vamp related.”

“Alright- I’m down to fuck up some vamps.” Emily smirked. “This buddy of yours, just a buddy, or…”

“What are you talking about?” Dean shook his head.

“Ouch-” She huffed. “So, not just a buddy? What is he, an ex boyfriend you never managed to get over? Secret lover? I can’t believe you’d do this to poor Cas.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“God, I'm regretting this already,” Dean sighed.

A few hours later, Dean still hadn’t said a word. “Dean, are you okay?” said Emily. He didn’t react. “Dean!” He finally turned towards her. Emily bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry I brought up Cas, okay? It was just a joke.”

“What?” asked Dean, confused.

“That’s the reason you haven’t spoken to me in hours, right?” she asked. Dean huffed.

“No, I- Emily, I'm not giving you the silent treatment. I was just thinking.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, worried. “What are you thinking about?”

“There's something you need to know about Benny. But you gotta promise not to freak out.”

“Okay,” she frowned. “It's fine, I can be open minded.”

“Benny's a vamp.” Emily suppressed her surprise into a grimace.

“Ok…” she said. “Since when you're friends with a vampire?”

“I- He got me out of Purgatory,” Dean explained.

“Oh, okay.” She shrugged before getting back to her laptop. Dean turned.

“Wow. I know you'd have been on board, but I didn't expect you to just be okay with it,” he said.

“I mean-” Emily shrugged. “Do you trust him?” Dean nodded. “That's good enough for me.” Dean remained silent. “But you were right, about not wanting to tell Sam. He would have freaked the fucked out,” she said. “But on the other side, Sam fucked a demon. Doesn't get any weirder, right?”

“You fucked an angel,” said Dean. Emily frowned.

“I did not- I didn't fuck Ramiel, what are you talking about?”

“You didn't?!” Dean asked. “So- all that flirting and- he literally called you ‘love!”

“No, I- I- I was about to, but then he disappeared and I never saw him again!”

“Wait, really?!” Dean asked, pulling into a side road. Emily put away her laptop. She was about to answer, but he continued. “Wait-” he said, turning off the engine. “That's Benny's truck.”

Emily followed Dean down the stairs and to Benny, who was sitting against a wall, covered in blood.

“Benny?” called Dean before hurrying his pace towards him. “Well, looking good,” he said. Emily crouched next to the vampire.

“Damn, Dean- you brought me the family nurse?” asked Benny. Dean huffed. “She specializes in vamps or something?”

“Something like that,” Emily smiled. “Dean, give me a hand with the blood.” Dean crouched next to her and gave Benny a blood bag. Emily took a look at Benny's wounds. “What happened to you?” asked Emily.

“Just a minor inconvenience,” said Benny. Emily scoffed. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got fangs. I heal fast.” Dean, who was looking outside the boat, checking that no one was coming, turned around.

“Benny, do you mind?” he asked. Emily huffed, wrapping Benny’s arm in a piece of old clothing.

“Wow,” she said. “That’s twice in a row that you…” Emily trailed off and chuckled. “That you defended my honor or whatever.” Benny smirked.

“You know he couldn’t stop talking about you down there?” he said. Emily turned towards Dean, smirking.

“Oh, is that the case?” she said.

“Benny!” said Dean, raising his eyebrows. “What the hell, man?”

“I don’t have proof,” said the vampire in a whisper. “But I think you might be his favorite.” Emily shook her head and smiled.

“What?” asked Dean. Emily didn’t answer. “Benny, what did you tell her?”

“You’re all set,” said Emily, helping Benny stand back up. She handed him the cooler and he took a blood bag out of it. He opened it with his teeth and spat out the plastic before squeezing the blood in his mouth. “What flavor of Capri Sun is that?” asked Emily with a smile. Benny frowned and threw the empty blood bag in a corner.

“He doesn’t know what a Capri Sun is, Emily.” said Dean, rolling his eyes.

“I was killed in nineteen-sixty-three, sweetheart.”

“Benny-”

“Dean, come on,” said Emily with a smirk. “He’s old enough to be my grandfather. He can call me sweetheart.” Dean rolled his eyes. Benny snickered. “Alright, grandpa, will you be okay?” She picked up her backpack.

“Wait a second,” Dean walked past Emily. “What’s going on, Benny?”

“Oh, your work here is done, Dean,” said the vampire. “You and your sister already saved the day!” Benny walked past Dean and patted him on the shoulder. “You know I got my- uh- deal, and you…” he pointed at Emily and Dean. “Family business, right?”

“Benny,” said Dean. Benny remained silent and looked at Dean. “What’s going on?”

“You and that whole friend thing, man.” said Benny. “It’s good to know you’re still dumb as ever.” Emily smiled. Dean glared at her and shook his head.

“Well, some things never change,” said Dean. Benny sat down and opened another blood bag. “Now, why are you getting into machete fights with your own kind?” Benny looked away for a moment, then answered.

“Quentin, the one I came for,” he said. Dean nodded. Emily sat on the table, her legs getting tired. Nobody - except for Kevin - knew she was feeling less than good. It was manageable. She'd gotten used to the nausea. She just felt tired. Very easily. And very intensely. “We were in the same nest,” said Benny. “I’m hunting the vampire who turned me. My maker.” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Well, I’m down with the hunting, but-” he sighed. “Why?”

“To kill him before he kills me,” said Benny. “Again.” Emily looked at Dean.

“Did you have anything to do this week?” he asked. Emily shrugged.

“Kevin’s missing anyway, so…” she said “We might as well take our sweet time, right?”

“You two don’t need to come with me,” said Benny. “It’s going to be dangerous.” Emily looked at Dean.

“Where do we start?” asked Emily. Benny walked to another room in the boat.

“Here,” he said, showing her a table full of what looked like trash. “We gotta find out where they’re headed next.” Emily went through the things on the table and picked up a notebook.

“Age of Aquarius Two,” she read. “Zero eight hundred, the Big Mermaid, Solitaire…” She turned the page. “Does this mean anything to you? Some sort of… vamp code?” Benny looked at her for a moment. “They’re all crossed out except one, The Lucky Myra.”

“Yachts,” said Benny. Emily frowned. “Names of yachts.” Benny took the notebook. “See? These are launch times.” he pointed to the numbers next to each name. “But I guarantee, none of these ever arrived at their destination.” Dean put down the piece of paper he was looking at. “Lucky Myrna, here-” Benny said. “Left yesterday, probably already been hit.”

“Hit?” asked Emily. She looked at Dean, biting the inside of her cheek and seeing if Dean was thinking the same thing she was thinking. “As in, boarded?” Benny nodded. “Buried at sea?” she asked. Dean frowned. “Like pirates?”

“We had a tight fleet,” said Benny. “Infiltrated the ports, found the right targets, radioed them to the crew on the water.”

“So, exactly like pirates?” said Dean. “Vampire pirates?”

“Vampirates,” said Emily, trying to hide a smirk. Dean rolled his eyes. “What? You were thinking it, too.”

“That’s a good name,” said Benny with a smirk. “Sweetheart.”

“Thanks, grandpa.” Emily looked at Dean, who put his hand on his waist and took a step back.

“I don’t like this,” he said. “You two-” he frowned. “I don’t like this at all.” Emily snickered and looked at Benny. He winked and took a step away from the table. Dean shook his head. “So, I got this receipt here,” he said. “Prentiss Island, name tells you anything?”

Emily slid in the passenger’s seat and threw her backpack in the back of the car.

“What are you doing?” asked Dean. Emily frowned. “Let Benny sit in the front!” Emily rolled her eyes and was about to climb over the seats, but Benny appeared in the window.

“Don’t be stupid, Dean,” he said. “You and I enjoyed each other enough in purgatory.” Dean closed his eyes and pinched his nose. “You sit in the front, sweetheart.” Emily smiled, satisfied, and kicked away her shoes. Dean shook his head and started the engine.

“So, Benny, I gotta ask,” said Emily. “Why did your maker kill you?” she asked. “I mean, aren’t nests like… a big, happy, blood-hungry family?”

“Let’s just say we had a divergence of opinions,” he said. “And I left the nest.”

“Okay,” Emily looked at Benny through the rearview mirror. “But why? I mean, if the lore is right,” she said. “and I mean, it might not be, but, still- isn’t the maker like some sort of God? Why would you piss him off?”

“What do you think, kid?” asked Benny. Emily shrugged. “Love.” Emily looked at Benny. “Her name was Andrea.”

“Sounds hot,” said Emily with a smirk.

“And she was, sweetheart, she was.” Benny sighed. “Greek. She was sailing a forty-two foot sloop to the Canary Islands.”

“Was it one of the targets?” asked Dean. Benny nodded.

“I was supposed to give out her coordinates and instead, I joined her,” he said. Emily smiled.

“Now, that’s paperback worthy,” she said. “You should write a book.”

“Let me ask you something, sweetheart,” Benny leaned in the middle of the seats. “Have you ever been in love?” Emily looked out the window for a moment and shrugged. “When Andrea entered my life, it changed. Everything I’d been, or done, up to that point,” he said. “It just seemed to vanish into what we had become together.” Emily crossed her arms. “Eventually…” continued Benny. “We settled in Louisiana. And then one night, we were coming home…” he sighed. “The Old Man, he was there. With Quentin and Sorento, my oldest mates.”

“Your brothers,” said Dean.

“It was only then that I understood what a crime it was to him,” Benny said. “For me to leave them.” Emily looked at Benny. “They pinned me down and beheaded me.”

“I’m sorry, man,” said Emily. “That’s rough.”

“You know, last thing I saw was The Old Man, ripping out Andrea’s throat.” said Benny. “But this is almost over. I’m gonna get payback.”

“That’s what it’s all about, right?” said Dean. Emily looked away.

Emily sneaked inside the house holding her machete. She followed Dean through the entrance and into a dark hallway.

“Where’s Benny?” she whispered. Dean looked back into the entrance, but immediately hid back behind the wall. He used his arm to press her to the wall and gestured to her to stay quiet. She heard someone getting punched and closed her eyes. Dean pointed to a room on their left and Emily slowly opened the door. She checked inside.

“Clear,” she whispered before entering the room. “Please tell me he didn’t-”

“He stopped,” said Dean. “They got him.”

“What do we do?”

“We clear the nest like we planned.”

“Dean-”

“We don’t have time to call for backup, okay?”

“I wasn’t gonna-” Dean pushed Emily to the side and beheaded a vampire that had walked in behind her.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “And it’s late.” Emily frowned. “I already texted Sam our twenty.”

“You what?” Emily hissed, pulling the dead vampire from her feet to move it from the door. “He’s gonna freak when he sees-”

“Yeah well, he’s gonna have to deal with it!” he said. Dean looked outside the room. “This way.” He started walking towards where Benny’s voice came from. They reached a staircase. Dean pointed at her to go check upstairs. Emily frowned.

“Alone?” she mouthed. Dean raised his eyebrows and pointed again. Emily tightened her grip around the machete and started walking upstairs. On top of the stairs was an empty room, two beheaded vampires laying in a pool of blood. Emily turned the bodies with her foot. Neither of them was Benny. Emily went through the room and appeared on top of the entrance. Benny was talking with a woman. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she saw the vampire touch the woman’s hair and sigh. Emily didn’t move and tried not to make any sound. That was Andrea. The woman took a step back and said something. Then, she showed her vampire teeth. Dean entered the room and beheaded her, too.

Emily walked out of the boat and helped both Dean and Benny on the dock. She shook her shoulder, trying to figure out if it was just sore or she needed ice. She walked to the Impala and found another car parked next to it. Leaning on it, Sam.

“Took you long enough,” she said. “Fun’s already over, sorry.”

“I can see that,” he answered. “You okay?”

“Ya,” Emily said. “Just tired as fuck, but you know- nothing new.” Just as she said that, the nausea intensified. She closed her eyes for a moment and then continued walking towards the car. She put down her bag and walked back towards Benny.

“Thanks for the assist, sweetheart,” he said. Emily nodded. “Hope you didn’t get too hurt.”

“Nothing a night’s sleep can’t handle, grandpa, don’t worry,” she said. Dean stopped and Sam walked next to her.

“Hey,” Benny said, holding his hand out to Sam. “I’m Benny.” Sam held it and Emily’s neck started to itch. She looked at Dean. Fuck.

What the hell is going on? said Sam’s voice.

Don’t try anything, Sam

“I heard a lot about you, Sam,” Benny continued. Sam didn’t answer and let go of his hand. Benny looked at Emily, then at Dean. “I can see you three have a lot to talk about,” he sighed. “See you around.”

Sam slammed the car door way harder than was needed and sat down with a sigh. Emily looked at Dean and kicked off her shoes. She looked at Benny’s truck disappearing behind a bend.

“What the hell, Dean?!” Sam asked.

“What?” he asked, starting the car. Emily sighed. “You mad we didn’t leave you anything to kill or something?”

“No, Dean- how about the fact that he’s a vampire?” Sam complained. Emily stayed silent, hoping to take a pass on the fight, but Sam had other plans. He turned around to look at her. “Did you know?” Emily didn’t answer.

“Sam, he’s the reason I’m topside and not roasting on a spit in Purgatory,” Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes. “Anything else?”

“Dude, I get it, I know what you had to do down there,” Sam said.

“I doubt that,” Dean said.

“Okay- but you’re back, and he’s still breathing, care to explain why?” Sam asked. He turned towards Emily.

“Don’t drag me into this,” she said. “I knew, I trusted Dean, that’s it.”

“He’s my friend, Sam, okay?” Dean complained. “And besides- I got a vampire friend and you went on a grippy sock vacation for a year while Emily risked her life, I take it we’re even.”

“I wasn’t on vacation!” Sam yelled. “And that’s hardly the same thing!”

“Okay,” Emily sighed. “Dean’s too nice to say it, so I will,” Dean looked at her in the rearview mirror.

“Emily,” he called.

“You ditched us and started the goddamn apocalypse for Ruby, now Dean’s got a vampire boyfriend, if anything, I still have a free pass to betray you in some weird way before we’re actually even.” Sam shook his head and Dean scowled at her.

“Right, of course,” Sam whispered. “I forgot you two never forget anything.”

“And I forgot you were a fucking hypocrite,” Emily whispered.

“Okay, how about you cut this out?” Dean said. “We’ve got a long way back to the Bunker.” Emily opened the window and took out a cigarette. “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do mind,” Emily complained. “You don’t want me to smoke? Stop driving me fucking insane.”

“What the hell happened to you this year?” Sam asked. “When have you become such an asshole?”

“Kinda always been,” Dean whispered. Emily hit the back of his head. “Ow! I’m driving!”

“I’m the asshole now?” she asked. “Jesus Christ- do some fucking soul searching while we go back to Kansas, would you? Because if I’m an asshole you two are unqualifiable!”

“Un- un what?” Dean frowned. “Talk normal, would ya?”

“It means there isn’t a word to describe us,” Sam sighed.

“I know what it means!” Dean complained. “Just- tone it down a bit, okay Emily? We’re not the enemy.”

“Since when?” she asked, looking out the open window.

“Alright, I’m done,” Dean sighed. He reached for the radio and turned the music up.

“We got a case, you want to come?” asked Dean a week later, holding out his laptop.

“Nope,” Emily said without looking up from her own laptop.

“Dude, seriously? Still? You and Sam are gonna have to work together at some point,” Dean said, closing the laptop and putting it on the bunker table. He checked an empty beer bottle to see if there was something inside.

“That’s not what this is about, Dean,” Emily complained. “I need to find Kevin, okay? He could be anywhere and he could be in danger.”

“So what? If he needs help he can call you,” Dean said. “You’ve been here all week and you barely slept, you should take your mind off it.”

“Or, you could go without me and leave me alone,” she said. “I’m sure you and Sam have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Fine,” Dean sighed. “You know we’re gonna have to talk about this at some point, right?”

“What I know is I’m almost done with this program that will let me face-recognize Kevin from a bunch of security cameras, and you’re distracting me.”

While Sam and Dean were gone, Emily took a look around the Bunker. The program was done, it just had to run and maybe find Kevin. Or maybe she could go back there and add more cameras? It wasn’t like she was lacking the power, the Bunker somehow had a server able to run face-recognition software. How it was powered and who paid the bills was still a mystery. She’d picked a room to sleep in, but she still had to look around in the rest of the place. She opened a few doors. A cellar, a dungeon, nothing that surprised her, but then she opened a door and froze. With white, almost shiny bricks - or maybe she was just way too excited to see it -, three shiny beds in white linen and an entire wall covered in cabinets filled with supplies, it was a damn infirmary. Packed with supplies. Actually sterile, and actually functional. What she’d been dreaming to have ever since she’d started hunting. Emily put out the weed she was smoking by dragging it next to the entrance. She looked around. Dean must have not seen it, or he would have said something to her. She walked over to the cabinets. No meds, but it had a bunch of supplies that didn’t look like they’d been stolen from a vet care. Her phone rang.

“Hey,” she answered without looking at the name on the screen. “Did you know the Bunker has an infirmary?”

“Uh- No,” Dean’s voice said. “Am I interrupting an intimate moment between you and a bottle of disinfectant?” Emily rolled her eyes.

“No,” she sighed. “What’s going on?”

“So, uh- how do I put this,” he stuttered. “Cas is back.” Emily’s interest in the cabinet dropped.

“What?” she asked. “W- How?!”

“We don’t know yet, but,” Dean cleared his voice. “Actually, that’s not what I wanted to tell you.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Emily asked. “You think he’s done something stupid?”

“I mean,” Dean sighed. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, well-” Emily walked back to the library. “You wanted to tell me something? You need research?” She sat down at the table and opened her laptop back up.

“Uh, no- just- Don’t freak out, but I think we know where Kevin is,” Dean said. Emily looked up from the laptop.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“I said- we found Kevin,” Dean repeated. “I’ll-”

“Dude, why not lead with that?!” she asked, shoving the laptop in her backpack and rushing to her room. “Where?”

“I’m gonna text you the coordinates,” Dean said. “Hurry it up, okay? It’s Crowley.”

“And you let me ask about the infirmary?” Emily asked, already marching towards the garage. “Okay, riddle me this, which car is the fastest in this damn garage?”

“Ford Thunderbird,” Dean said. Emily stopped and looked around. “The green one,” he explained.

“Thank you,” Emily said. She opened the door and the keys were already in. “Text me the coordinates.” She looked down and saw an address in Iowa. “Alright, see you in two hours.”

“Two- Emily, you can’t make the drive in two hours!” Dean complained.

“Don’t challenge me, Dean, you know I drive like a maniac.”

Emily arrived at the location Dean had texted her before he and Sam did. She opened her bag and started looking through her supplies to find a knife and some holy water. Dean parked behind her just as she was dipping her knife. He walked to her.

“You weren’t going in alone, were you?” He asked, dropping his bag next to hers.

“Yeah, if you had kept me waiting,” she said. “But you’re here, so-” she sighed. “What we got?”

“Crowley couldn’t find Kevin, so he took all future prophets as ‘insurance’ to try and translate the tablet,” he explained. “We already brought his mother somewhere safe, we should be clear to go in.”

“Alright,” Emily took a deep breath. “How you wanna play this?” Sam arrived behind Dean.

“You tell me, kid, Kevin’s your gig,” Dean said. Emily put her hands on her waist. “I mean it, it’s time you start taking the lead, you’re old enough.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing all year, asking the internet?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “Alright, Sam will clear the way, you cover me.”

“I can be of help,” said Cas’ voice. Sam moved over and made way for the angel. “As part of heaven’s army, my job is to keep prophets safe, so I can sense how close Kevin is.”

“Hey Cas,” Emily smiled. The angel nodded. “You’re gonna be with me. You guys got any spares of that blade Meg had?”

“Yup,” Dean reached into his bag and handed her an angel blade. “Sounds good, let’s go.”

Emily let Sam walk into the warehouse and kill the first two demons, they all moved on to the next guarding point, but a demon appeared behind her. She moved her hand and tried to use her powers to fling the demon back, but she just managed to make him take a few steps back. She tried again, the demon marching towards her. Castiel walked in front of her and put a hand on the demon’s face. It stopped, yellow light coming out of his eyes and mouth, and dropped to the floor. The angel took a step back and bumped into Emily, who helped him keep standing. Before she could make sure Castiel was safe, her stomach turned on itself, and she turned away to vomit. Dean looked at her, face painted with worry, as she cleaned her face. She ignored him and kept walking. She caught up with Sam and passed him, the acid taste of vomit still in her throat and her guts getting ready to make her hurl more. Castiel followed her closely.

“Here,” Castiel said, stopping in front of a wall. Emily tried to open it, but it appeared to be locked. She put a hand in her pocket and took out her picking kit. Dean and Sam caught up and looked at her for a few seconds.

“You want me to try?” Sam asked. Emily groaned, frustrated, then took a step back.

“Move,” she said, taking out her gun. Dean tried to stop her.

“Woah, wait-

“I’m going in,” said Castiel.

“N-” was all Dean could try to say before the angel disappeared. Emily looked at him.

“Now will you let me shoot at the lock?” she asked. Dean moved a few steps away as Emily aimed at the door. A bright light came from inside the room. She shot the lock off and kicked the door.

“I see the whole gang is here,” Crowley said. The table next to him was shattered, and the tablet had fallen to the floor and broke in half. He had both halves in his hands. Emily had one shot at getting at least one of them back, and her powers had to work that time. She could not fumble it. She focused on Crowley’s hand and one half of the tablet flew half across the room before falling to the ground and breaking again. By the time that had happened, Crowley was already gone, and so was Castiel. Emily hesitated, feeling another wave of vomit, and turned back out the room, where Dean was still standing. She pushed him away and vomited on the ground.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked. Emily looked at him and didn’t answer. She once again cleaned her face, then went back inside the room to look for Kevin. She found him flattened against a wall, just inside. Her mind was driving on a coffee and just adrenaline, so she didn’t think twice before hugging him. He hesitated.

“O-okay,” he said. “Good to see you, too, I guess.”

“Other victims are handed to the police, we got like- ten minutes before they start asking questions,” Sam said, walking back towards Emily. She was leaning on her car, smoking a cigarette. “You did good by the way.”

“This wasn’t my first rodeo, Sam,” she sighed. “You were gone, I had to keep fighting the fight, right?”

“Right,” Sam sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “So, uh- Kevin’s missing a finger, but Cas can make it grow it back, or so he says.”

“Good,” Emily said.

“Emily, you know I’m gonna ask, so just- tell me, because Dean’s already gone down the pregnancy path.”

“Jesus Christ,” Emily huffed. “I’m not pregnant, dude,” she said, hoping the conversation would end there.

“Okay, then what’s going on with you?” Emily opened her mouth, ready to make up a lie, but he stopped her. “And don’t try telling me you got the stomach bug.”

“Damn it,” she sighed. “Okay, it’s- it’s the trials, I think they’re doing something to me.”

“Like what?” Sam asked.

“Like- I don’t know, I guess I haven’t been feeling well, just- generally, I have- i have less energy and- and I can’t sleep and my powers don’t work as well as they used to.”

“You should talk to Cas, maybe he can help,” Sam said.

“No, I can’t,” Castiel said, appearing next to her. She flinched. “Sorry.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” Sam asked, confused. “You-”

“The damage the trials do, there’s no healing them,” the angel explained. “And it’s gonna get worse with time.”

“Yeah, I figured that part out myself,” Emily said, stretching her shoulder, which kept hurting. “Do I just pop a bunch of vicodins and start limping then?” Castiel frowned and tilted his head. “It’s House, dude, you- you really do need to watch some TV sometimes.” She finished the cigarette and threw it on the floor.

“The Prophet’s finger is fine,” Castiel said. “I think he wishes to talk with you.”

“Did he say that?” Emily asked. “Or did Dean say that I need to go talk to him?”

“Dean…” Castiel sighed. “He said Kevin was looking at you and that you were… quite aggressive about helping him.”

“Just say it, Cas,” Emily sighed. “I know he sprayed that bullshit on you.”

“Okay,” Castiel put his hands on his waist. “He said you’re wildly in love.”

“Yup, there it is,” Emily groaned. “Jesus Christ, I need a drink.” Emily pushed away from the car and walked towards Kevin.

“Hey,” she said, approaching him. Dean, who’d been cleaning a cut on Kevin’s face, was very quick to mumble something and disappear, leaving all the supplies on top of the Impala. “I swear to God…” she sighed, looking at him smirking as he left. Kevin looked around, confused. Emily sighed and grabbed the supplies.

“What- Where did he go?”

“Ignore him, he’s an idiot,” Emily said, dragging some cotton on Kevin's forehead. “Are you okay?”

“I got all ten fingers,” he shrugged. “Thanks for the save, by the way.”

“It’s my job,” Emily said.

“Or…” Kevin rolled his eyes. “You could just say ‘you’re welcome’.”

“You’re welcome, asshole,” she huffed. She reached on top of the car to grab a stitch.

“Alright,” Kevin sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Still kinda mad at you,” Emily said, placing the stitch on his forehead. “Would it have killed you to text me once these past two months?”

“I- I ditched my phone,” Kevin said. “I didn’t have your number.”

“Oh,” said Emily, letting Kevin’s arm go. “So you- you never got my messages?”

“You left messages?” Kevin crossed his arms. Emily nodded. “Yeah, no- I'm- I didn't get them. What-”

“What would have happened if you needed help?” Emily asked. “Oh right, it happened, and you almost died!”

“Hey, I can take care of myself,” Kevin said, moving away from Emily. “We were doing fine!”

“Yeah, until you got involved with a witch, which I could have told you was a bad idea!” Emily complained. Kevin rolled his eyes and leaned back on the car. Emily grabbed more cotton and soaked it in alcohol.

“My mom found her on Craigslist,” Kevin explained. Emily stopped to look at him. “I know, I know, just- I thought you were a nightmare to be stuck with, but at least you knew what you were doing.” Emily huffed. “Why didn’t Cas heal those, too?” he asked, pointing at his forehead. Emily stopped and looked at him again. That was a good question. Why didn’t he? Either Cas didn’t have enough juice left, or…

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she whispered. Dean looked at her from the other side of the lot and smirked. “What an asshole.”

“What’s going on?” Kevin asked, confused. “He’s been weird ever since we got out here.”

“I told you, he’s an idiot,” Emily said. Kevin crossed his arms.

“Come on, tell me,” he complained. Emily took a deep breath.

“I didn’t tell him about how the trials were making me feel and he thinks I’m pregnant,” she whispered. Kevin frowned.

“H-how?” he asked. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, he thinks I did it?” Emily nodded. “But we- we-”

“Trust me, I know,” Emily sighed. “He’s just an idiot like that, he’s gonna get over it.” Kevin didn’t say anything until Emily had finished stitching up all the cuts on his face. Sam rushed back towards them.

“Okay, time’s up,” he said, pointing to the policemen a few steps away. “Time to go.”

Congratulations

from the Hamilton Mixtape

Emily walked inside of Garth’s boat and knocked on the metal door.

“Kevin, it’s me,” she called. Kevin opened the door. Before he could say anything, Emily grabbed the holy water and drank it. “Not a demon,” she sighed. “As always.”

“For now,” Kevin whispered, going back to sit at the table. Emily pretended not to hear him. “I think I almost got it, I can make it in a couple of days.”

“What about we make it three?” Emily answered, taking out a piece of food that was stuck to Kevin's hair. “And you use the extra time to, I don’t know- shower, eat and sleep?”

“No can do,” said Kevin, looking at the tablet. “I don’t have time for that.” Emily crouched in front of the fridge.

“Well, I brought you food,” she said, taking out of the fridge a pack of hotdogs that had an inch of mold on them. “In case you wanna eat it.” Kevin put his headphones back on and the music started again. Emily stood up. “I’m talking to you, advanced placement,” she called. He didn’t answer. “Seriously?” Emily snapped his finger next to his ear, but he didn’t react. She heard the music faintly go through the headphones. She rolled her eyes and walked to the other side of the boat, frustrated. Emily stopped to listen to the songs. Grease. Kevin was listening to Grease. Of all the musicals she’d forced him to watch, he really had to get out and like the worse one. She rolled her eyes and made her way around the room, gathering dirty clothes and dishes. She kicked something on the floor and looked down. Empty bottle of aspirins. She looked back at Kevin and walked to the cabinet. He couldn’t be that stupid to take the entire bottle in a week, could he? She opened the cabinet and there was no other aspirin bottle. Which meant yes, he was that stupid. She walked back to Kevin and disconnected his headphones. He turned.

“Hey!” he said. “I’m trying to work here!” Emily showed him the empty bottle. He rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, what are you, my mother? I had a headache, I had to take something,” Kevin complained, trying to put his headphones back on. Emily stopped him.

“Or you could have taken a nap,” said Emily. “That’s how your head will stop hurting.”

“Yeah well, I can’t sleep,” Kevin said. Emily crossed her arms.

“Okay fine, just- die then, what do I have to tell you?!” she said, letting go of the headphones. Kevin looked at her, scoffed, and reconnected his headphones. Frustrated, Emily ripped the headphones off Kevin’s head and threw them across the room.

“What the hell?!” Kevin yelled, looking at the plastic shatter on the floor.

“Is that the plan?” she asked. “Just… die for this?”

“Isn’t it your plan?” Kevin asked, standing up and walking around the table.

“Yeah- but I’m not doing it myself,” she said.

“That’s right, you’re making me do it,” Kevin sighed. “You know, nobody forced you to to the trials, you chose to do them knowing full well-”

“Okay? That doesn’t mean-”

“How the fuck is it any different?” Kevin asked. “Am I supposed to take a walk? Enjoy the beach? Oh wait, I can’t!” Emily scoffed and rolled her eyes, moving a chair to walk towards Kevin.

“Or, you could just- I don’t know, sleep for an hour! That will make it easier to translate the damn thing!”

“Oh my god!” Kevin yelled. “Why don’t you listen to me?! I just told you-”

“You didn’t even try, okay? You just sit there all day, all night, it’s not like you’re trying to sleep, you just don’t want to!”

“I just told you-”

“You- sometimes it feels like you don’t want to finish the damn thing and go home, because you keep doing everything possible to slow it down!”

“What if I don’t?” Kevin asked. “What if I don’t want to kill you? Would it be that weird to you?” Emily stopped talking and rolled her eyes. She looked at him, trying to settle down the blood boiling in her veins.

“I don’t care if you want to do this or now, you don’t get to decide what I do with my life!” she yelled.

“And you get to decide what I do with mine?”

“No, but since my job is to look after you, I kinda have to keep you alive!”

“That’s not your job!” Kevin complained. “You’re just here so you can fix whatever you did when you were a kid, that’s it, none of this is about me!”

“Oh, sure!” Emily said. “Kevin, all of this is about you!” she yelled. Kevin rolled his eyes. “Crowley’s looking for you, all the angels are looking for you, like it or not, this is about you!”

“Why can’t you just admit you just need me for this one thing and then you couldn’t care less if I live or die?” Emily looked at him and scoffed.

“And here I was, thinking we were doing something together!” Emily said. “I guess not, I guess I’m just- I don’t know a prison guard to you!”

“I don’t need you to protect me, okay? I can take care of myself!”

“Oh, can you?” she asked. “If that’s the case, take me down.” Kevin looked at her. He seemed fully convinced he could do that. He grabbed a pan from the kitchen and tried to swing it at her, but she grabbed his wrist, twisted it until he dropped the pan, which she kicked away. It clanged on the hollow metal walls, next to the headphones. “Be grateful I didn’t use it on you,” she said. “That’d have put you to sleep very fast.”

“Okay, you know what?” Kevin said, massaging his wrist. “Go home.” Emily crossed her arms and remained silent, challenging him. “I’m serious, I don’t want you here! I don’t want anybody here!” Kevin walked to the kitchen and put both hands on the counter. He pulled up the wrist she’d just twisted and flexed it a couple of times. Emily turned away to grab a cigarette off the table behind her, and a plate smashed on the wall a few inches from her face. “I said leave!” Kevin yelled. The plate was followed by a glass, which was when Emily walked towards him to stop him. Or murder him, she still hadn’t decided. Having run out of stuff to throw, Kevin started walking towards her, too. What he didn’t know, and Emily did, in fact, know, was that moving from the kitchen put him in the perfect spot for Emily to stop him. The moment they met in the middle of the boat, where the table was, Emily grabbed him and locked his arms behind you. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she ignored it as Kevin tried to set himself free, but only managed to get slammed on the table face first.

“Are you going to calm down or what?!” Emily asked.

“Let me go!” Kevin complained, a hint of blood coming out of his nose.

“Nope,” she said, lifting him off the table to save some notes from the inevitable nosebleed. “Not until you calm the f-train down.” Her phone started vibrating again, so she used one hand to answer it.

“Kinda in the middle of something, Dean,” she sighed, holding Kevin down.

“Did you finally give in to having sex with Kevin?” he asked. Emily rolled her eyes. Kevin scoffed, too.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Not a no, uh?” Dean gloated. Emily remained silent, waiting for an answer. “Fine, I got news,” he sighed. “Do you want the short version or the long version?” Kevin fought back and almost set himself free.

“The short one!” she complained, putting her phone between her ear and shoulder to use both hands to hold Kevin. “Jesus, Dean, I told you I have a situation going on!”

“Okay, so- Cas has been mind controlled by angels, we found a new tablet for the kid to translate, but Cas took it and disappeared.” Emily stopped fighting Kevin back for a moment and he pushed her away.

“Jesus- give me a second,” Emily said. She threw her phone on the table and stopped Kevin, who was trying to punch her. She grabbed his arms again and blocked him against the wall instead.

“I thought you’d learn after the first time I did it to you,” Emily hissed.

“Get off me,” Kevin said. Emily sighed. “I’m serious, Emily, let me go and get out.”

“What exactly is your problem?” Emily asked. “You think I’m an asshole? You don’t do my job by being nice, so deal with it and stop acting looney-fucking-tunes.” Kevin scoffed. “And also- no I’m not an asshole! I clean the damn place for you, I bring you food and I’d also keep you company if you looked up from the damn thing once a week!” she said. “So here’s what’s going to happen now. You’re going to calm the fuck down and you’re going to watch the fucking movie I brought because I swear to God I’m so fed up with you I could let you drown in fucking ocean.” Kevin stopped moving.

“You’re not scary, you know that?” Kevin hissed. Emily rolled her eyes and pushed him harder into the wall, blood smearing on it.

“Jesus Christ-” she sighed. “Are you done or what?” Kevin didn’t answer, but he also didn’t try to set himself free. “Good,” she said, extending her arm out to grab her phone. “Okay, I’m back,” she said to Dean.

“What the hell is going on there?” asked Dean. “Need some backup?”

“No,” she answered. “Everything’s fine.”

“You didn’t kill Kevin, did you?”

“No but I might do it if he keeps this up,” said Emily. Kevin huffed, cheek still stuck against the wall. Emily let go of him and pushed him to the other side of the room. “You were saying- Cas disappeared?”

“Yup,” Dean sighed. “Took the angel tablet and hopped on a bus I suppose.”

“Is he… still mind controlled?” she asked. She heard Dean take a deep breath on the other side of the call. She looked around to see where Kevin was. He was standing still staring at the kitchen.

“No, I-” Dean hesitated. “Wait, give me a sec.” Emily heard Dean walk up the Bunker’s metal stairs, then the door slamming shut. “Look, I’m gonna tell you, but you can’t tell Sam, okay? Like- ever.”

“...okay?” Emily frowned and grabbed a joint off her cigarette pack. She walked out of the boat and sat on the ladder that brought back inside. “What the hell is going on?”

“So, when we were in there, he… he tried to kill me, he was- you know- he was following orders,” Dean explained. Emily took a puff and sighed.

“I take it he didn’t, so- what happened?”

“I broke the connection, but- uh- I had to- you know-” Dean trailed off. Emily frowned, getting an intuition.

“You didn’t,” she said, joint frozen an inch from her lips. “Did you?”

“I… I think I did,” Dean said.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I knew it,” she sighed. “And you told him? Like- plain and clear?”

“Yup. Just told the dude I love him,” Dean muttered. “And that- that worked, so.”

“What did you tell Sam?” she asked, confused. The answer from the other side of the phone of a frustrated groan. “What did Cas say?” she asked.

“Nothing, what was he supposed to say? Goddamnit, I’m so screwed.”

“He said nothing?!” Emily asked.

“I mean, he said he needed to protect the tablet, healed me and then he was gone,” Dean sighed. “But, you know- it’s it’s fine. What’s going on with the kid?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s losing his mind,” Emily sighed. “But I’m gonna find a way to- I don’t know- fix this without killing him.”

“Sounds like you should give the sex idea a try,” Dean said. Emily kept smoking her joint and huffed. “Just kidding, but from what I heard you got it rough down there.”

“Yup,” she sighed. “I- I’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Just- give me a call if something comes up.” Emily walked back inside the boat, joint still lit, to find Kevin still staring at the kitchen. “Dude,” she sighed. He turned. “What are you doing?”

“I- uh- I was going to bed and then I started thinking,” Kevin answered, looking at her in confusion.

“About what?”

“Not sure,” he said. He walked to the bed and threw himself on it. By the time Emily had gotten the broom from the corner, he was already snoring.

Kevin woke up four hours of nightmares and cold sweating later. His face was covered in blood and he had a huge purple bruise where he’d landed on the table. Emily felt bad, there was no going around it. He was acting crazy, but she acted like Dean would and that was way worse. She’d been sitting at the table, tablet and notes pushed to the side, looking for any camera footage that showed Castiel.

“You okay, Rapunzel?” she asked as Kevin sat up on the mattress. He dragged a hand through his face and flinched, in pain. “Yeah, that’s gotta hurt.”

“When did you get here?” he asked, confused. “And what the hell happened to my face?” Emily frowned.

“Dude. I got here hours ago,” she said. “You don’t remember?” Kevin squeezed his eyes shut.

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah- wait…” he looked at her. “Yeah, yeah. I remember.”

“Still want to throw stuff at me?” Emily asked with a smirk. Kevin rolled his eyes.

“Kinda,” Kevin said, standing up. “Not as much.” He walked to the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. “Did I… did I try to hit you with a pan?”

“Sure did,” Emily sighed. Kevin waited by the coffee pot staring in front of him.

“Fuck, I’m so tired,” he said. “And my head’s killing me.” He opened the cabinet and groaned. “Where the hell’s the aspirin?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Emily asked. “You downed them all while I was away.” Kevin took a deep breath. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the Bunker? It’s huge, I’m sure we can find you a quiet place to work.”

“No, Emily-” Kevin sighed. “The angels said I needed to go to the desert,” he said. “This is as desert as it gets.”

“Okay,” Emily sighed. “And I’m going to guess as soon as I’m gone you’ll be back to not sleeping and popping aspirins like it’s candy?” Kevin looked away. “Just as I thought.” Emily walked to her bag. “Kevin, I’m not your mother and I’m no place to tell you about how your body's a temple and all that weird shit, but you're not doing yourself any good by living like a fucking animal.” Kevin didn't answer. Emily sighed. “Okay, before you get back to work you gotta eat something,” she pulled a chair closer to the table. Kevin took the cup of coffee and rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that, okay? A couple of hours of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire are not going to make any difference in the long run.”

“I really don’t feel like watching Harry Potter now,” Kevin complained while Emily stood up and opened the minifridge. She didn’t answer, she just took a pan, the same Kevin had tried to use on her earlier, and put some hotdogs on it. She turned on the stove and reached back on the laptop to start the movie. A few minutes later, Emily threw the hotdogs on a plastic plate and placed it in front of Kevin. He took half the movie to eat maybe a quarter of one hotdog, and just pushed it around with a fork the rest of the time. He stared at the screen with an increasingly uncomfortable expression.

“You okay?” Emily asked, pausing the movie. Kevin simply nodded but didn’t speak. A couple of seconds later, Kevin rushed to the bathroom. Emily tried to follow him just to see him fall to the ground and vomit what he had just eaten.

“Jesus-,” she whispered. Emily tried to help him to the bathroom again but he pushed her hand away. Emily clenched her fists, trying not to think of drowning him in the ocean as a viable alternative. Kevin vomited again and she took a deep breath, dragging a hand through her face. “Okay, tough guy, I’m sick of you,” she said. She forced him off the floor, stopping his arms from trying to set himself free. He vomited again, covering her arms in half-digested food. Emily held her breath and dragged Kevin to the bathroom. She unceremoniously threw Kevin next to the toilet. “Keep being perfectly fine in here, okay?” Emily gave Kevin one last glance before going back to the only other room in the boat. She opened the kitchen tap and cleaned herself the best she could. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?!” she said before turning. Kevin didn’t answer and instead vomited again. Please let it be in the toilet. She thought. She placed her hands on the table, her head dangling in the middle of her shoulders. She looked around: she had to clean up fast before the whole place started smelling. She used an old, already smelly mop, and then threw it out the door and into the stairs when she was done. She took a deep breath, trying to summon her kind, understanding side, and walked to the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting next to Kevin. He scowled at her while leaning on the toilet. She silently handed him the toilet paper roll. He nodded and moved away from the toilet, leaning on the wall. She reached into a drawer and grabbed a first aid kit. She punched the dry ice and placed it on his nose, which had started to bleed again. “Sorry, I think I might have broken it,” she sighed.

“Kinda had it coming,” Kevin whispered, taking the ice. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I- I was acting kinda crazy, but to be fair, you can be a real bitch sometimes.”

“Oh, I know,” Emily huffed. “But see, how you did two out of the three things I wanted you to do.” Kevin frowned. “You slept and you ate.”

“I’m definitely going to take a shower now,” Kevin sighed. Emily smiled.

“Alright, I’m gonna get out then,” she sighed, standing up. “Last thing I need is Dean having more excuses to think we’re having sex.”

“He really is an idiot, isn’t he?” Kevin huffed. Emily nodded and left the room. When he walked out of the bathroom, he almost really looked fine. Sure, half his face was swollen, but at least he didn’t have leftover doritos in his hair and coffee stains on his t-shirt anymore.

“Can I work on the tablet for a while or will you yell at me?” he asked, sitting down at the tablet. Emily sighed, but nodded. She fell asleep waiting for Kevin to stop staring at the tablet. When she opened her eyes, it was to the thump of his head on the table as he fell asleep. He woke back up just as fast as he had fallen asleep and used a hand to prop his head up.

“Kevin, just come to sleep,” she groaned, opening only one eye.

“It’s fine, I almost got this part done,” Kevin said.

“Fine,” she sighed and went back to sleep.

“So, did he sleep in the end?” asked Dean, plating a hamburger in the Bunker’s kitchen. Emily threw her backpack on the floor and sat down with a beer already in her hand.

“He got like four hours in,” she sighed. “But dude, he's having a nervous breakdown, he’s seriously out of it.” She moved some fries on the plate with her fingers and took a sip of beer.

“Dude, Kevin is an adult, okay?” said Dean. “You’re doing everything you need to be doing, so- just eat the damn burger.” Emily rolled her eyes and ate a fry.

“I need to find some way to help him, okay? Or to- I don’t know, make him understand he doesn’t need to act like this.”

“Unless you just turned into a prophet, too, you can’t help him any other way,” said Dean. “Now eat and go to sleep.” Emily rolled her eyes. Just as Dean was about to sit down and eat, too, his phone started ringing. “It’s Kevin,” he said, frowning. Emily took her phone out of her bag and realized it had run out of battery. He answered and after a second, he closed the communication, looking alarmed.

“What?” said Emily.

“I don’t know, he just said to come quick.” Emily stood up and grabbed her stuff off the floor.

“Wait, how-” Sam looked down at his phone. “It’s been four, how- how fast were you driving?” he asked. Emily looked at Dean and smirked. “We’re on the border with Mexico, it’s four hundred miles from home!”

“You sound like Bobby on my first driving lesson,” said Emily, looking for the boat’s keys in her backpack as she walked towards the pier. “You were going too fast, that's dangerous, blah blah blah- did I get you here alive?”

“Bobby gave you driving lessons?” asked Dean.

“Of course, how do you think I learned to drive?” she stepped onto the boat. “It surely wasn’t grandma Sam, was it?”

“That checks out,” Sam sighed, but Emily shushed him and pushed the door open.

“Kevin?” she called, entering the boat. “Kevin!” As nobody answered, she made her way through the room and opened the door that hid the bed, holding her gun up. Nobody. Fearing the worst, she made her way to the bathroom door. Kevin was there, vomiting. Again. Emily looked away, disgusted. “Found him,” she called, looking across the boat to Sam and Dean. “Jesus Christ-” she exhaled. “Is everything okay?” Kevin lifted his head from the toilet and leaned on the wall behind him, half a smile painted on his face.

“No need to call me Jesus,” he smirked. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Okay, prophet of my ass, what the hell happened to you?” she asked, pulling off the paper towel Kevin had stuffed in his nose to stop it from bleeding. “I was only away for a day!”

“Yeah, that meant a whole day of peace and silence,” he said. Emily scoffed. “Which I used to translate the second trial.” Emily turned to see Sam and Dean standing in the bathroom doorway. “I told you I just needed a day.”

“Yeah and I told you-” Kevin ignored her and stood back up. He stumbled past Sam and Dean. “Kevin, you have to slow down, okay?” she said. “You can barely walk.”

“Oh, sorry mom, I didn’t see you there!” said Kevin. Emily frowned, confused, and looked behind her. “I was right and you were wrong, I needed a day!” he said. “I could have gotten it yesterday if you didn’t insist on putting me to sleep!” Emily scoffed. She looked back at Dean and Sam, then at Kevin.

“You’re seriously an asshole, you know that?” she asked, flushing the toilet.

“Yeah, well- this asshole just got you the recipe to save the world,” he slammed a piece of paper on the table. “So I’m afraid this asshole is useful!”

“You know what would be useful? If y-”

“Okay, okay-” said Dean. “How about you both take a deep breath?” Emily rolled her eyes and took the piece of paper. It was, as usual, illegible.

“What is this gibberish?” she asked, waving the piece of paper. Kevin was about to answer but Sam gestured at him to wait and took the notes.

“An innocent soul has to be rescued from Hell and delivered unto Heaven.” he read.

“Unto?” Emily repeated. “It’s into, right?”

“No, genius,” said Kevin. “It’s ‘unto’ heaven. That’s how God talks.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t take AP word of god in high school!” Emily complained. Dean rolled his eyes and brushed his face with his hand, badly covering a smirk. Emily pushed his shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry-” he took a deep breath and looked at Sam, who seemed amused, too. “So, does it say anything at all about- you know- the spell?” Kevin gave him another piece of paper. Dean looked at it, frowned, and then gave it to Sam. He sighed and took it, nodding towards Kevin.

“Alright, kids, we're going on a supply run,” said Dean. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but this place needs some actual cleaning supplies.” Emily crossed her arms. “Are you good staying here by yourselves?” Kevin nodded, distracted by the tablet. “Try not to- uh… kill each other while we’re away.” He looked at Emily and suggestively winked as he closed the door. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Is this how this is going to be from now on?” she asked, turning back towards Kevin. “I try to keep you alive and you make me look like the bad guy, scream at me, call me names and throw stuff?” Kevin put down the pencil and tipped back the chair, frustrated. Emily pushed the chair back on four feet. Kevin looked at her and sighed.

“No,” he said. “it’s just being here all alone sucks.”

“You’re the one who said you had to be in the desert,” said Emily. Kevin dragged his hand across his face.

“That’s because if I’m not in the desert I can’t focus for long enough,” he answered. “I just- I just wish the desert wasn’t so damn lonely, that’s all.” He shook his head and picked the pencil back up. He slid the tablet from across the table and stared at it, the pencil tapping on his temple. Emily leaned on the kitchen, in silence. “You’re going to leave me here, aren’t you?” he asked. “You’re not going to let me come with you for the second trial.”

“Kevin-” Emily sighed.

“No, no, I get it. I almost fucked it up last time. Made a fool of myself and all that.” Emily frowned.

“None of that happened,” she said. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want you there, okay? But it’s hell we’re talking about. Every single demon in there is looking to put his hands on you to get on Crowley’s right side.”

“I’m sorry, are we going down there with a megaphone? Announce our arrival?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Emily scoffed. Kevin looked away. “Sorry,” he said. Emily crossed her arms. “I- I- just want to help, okay?”

“I know,” she sighed. “But it’s too dangerous. What if something happens to you?”

“Again with this- stop acting like you’re my mother or something, okay?” Kevin stood up. “I can take care of myself!”

“Can you? Look around, Kevin! Look at yourself! This doesn't look like someone who can take care of himself!” yelled Emily. Kevin scoffed, shook his head and sat back up. He didn’t answer. “You know what?” she said, picking up her backpack. Kevin’s eyes widened. “I think I’ll go with Sam and Dean on the supply run.” She walked to the door, opened it and then slammed it behind her. She stopped and took a deep breath. She saw the Impala still parked a few yards away from the boat. She took a step forward but flinched, a loud thump coming from the inside of the boat. It sounded like Kevin had thrown something at the hollow walls. Fuck.

Emily walked out of the boat and lit up a cigarette. She waved at Dean to wait and jogged to the Impala.

“Already done?” asked Dean with a smirk. Emily didn’t answer. “I hope you used a rubber, it’s not s-”

“Dean,” said Sam, pushing his shoulder. He looked at Emily from the rearview mirror. The car started. Emily sighed and looked away. She kicked away her shoes and crossed her legs on the seat.

“What’s going on, kid?” asked Sam. Emily shook her head.

“Nothing, it’s fine,” she sighed. “I tried to talk to him but he’s like- insufferable and- and- this mood swings or whatever it is, one second he’s asking me to come with me on the second trial, and then he’s yelling at me because I don’t want him to die!”

“Welcome to our life,” said Dean with a smirk. “You think you were any different four years ago?” Emily frowned. “One time, you tried to pick a fight over the words ‘are you okay’.” He looked at her through the rearview mirror.

“Okay, so what? I’m sure I had my reasons.” said Emily.

“You don’t think Kevin’s got enough reasons?” asked Dean. “His mother’s dead, he’s stuck into a boat on the border with Mexico, he’s God’s chosen one and the girl he likes keeps behaving like he’s a kid, which I am sure doesn’t help.” Emily rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear it, but that’s just the truth!”

“So, you- you know,” said Sam. “About Kevin.”

“Of course I know,” Emily took a deep breath. “Can we talk about something else?” she asked. “Please?”

“I totally caught him checking out your ass,” said Dean. Emily shook her head.

“You mean my non-existent, one hundred percent flat ass?” she asked. Dean nodded. “So, you caught him looking at my back?”

“That’s- that’s not what I meant,” said Sam, scowling at Dean. Emily looked at him. “I meant-”

“Sam, I swear to god,” Emily groaned and fell deeper into the seat.

“Emily, I’m just wondering if spending all that time together-”

“Trust me, if anything- we’re spending too much time together.” she said. “It’s probably why we can’t stand each other anymore.” Dean snorted, trying to hide a laugh. “I’ll crash the car.” she said. Dean raised a hand, apologizing, but kept his stupid smile on his stupid face for the rest of the trip.

Emily pushed the door open and Kevin flinched awake. She ignored him and walked past the table he was sitting at. She crouched down to a cabinet and started emptying the bag of supplies. She heard Sam say something inaudible to Kevin but didn’t turn. She just assumed - and hoped, really, he was smart enough to not say anything about their conversation. When she closed the fridge, she stood back up, her knees cracking.

“Was that you?” asked Kevin. Emily turned and huffed. Sam and Dean were gone.

“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms. “It's made that sound ever since I rescued you, so…” Kevin shook his head. “I’ll keep you posted on how the second trial goes, okay?”

“Sure,” said Kevin. “That’s…” he trailed off. “Yeah that’s fine, I guess.”

“Don’t go AWOL, you hear me? Call me.”

“Maybe keep your phone charged,” he said. Emily nodded and walked back towards the door.

“Okay, I’ll-” she pointed to the door. “I’ll go. Sam’s driving, so it’s going to be like… a five hour drive.”

“Okay,” said Kevin.

“See you next week.” Emily pulled the door open.

“Emily?” called Kevin. Emily clenched her fist around the handle and stopped. She closed her eyes and kept facing away from Kevin for a moment before she took a deep breath and turned.

“Yeah?” Kevin looked at her for a moment, bit the inside of his cheek and then looked away. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he whispered. “I…” he trailed off. “It’s not important,” he said. “Something about- about Harry Potter, but- I don’t know, I already forgot.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Cool,” Emily said. She pointed towards the door and walked out. “Gotta go.”

“Did you get the info we needed?” asked Emily, walking into the library, where Sam had been researching. “How do I take a field trip to hell?”

“More like how we take a trip to hell,” said Dean from the other side of the table. “You’re not going alone.”

“Of course I am,” Emily said. “My trials, my trip to hell.” Sam looked at her.

“You sure? You haven’t exactly been in top shape lately.” he said.

“Rude,” said Emily. “I’m perfectly fine. The more we are the more likely it is we get caught and it all goes to… well, to hell.”

“And if you go alone, nobody can back you up,” said Dean. “Negative. I’m coming with you.”

“Why you?” said Sam. “I- I actually thought I would go.”

“No.” said Emily, pointing at Dean. “And no.” she pointed at Sam. He rolled his eyes. “I managed with Kevin the first time, I’ll manage alone the second one.” Dean and Sam looked at each other. “You’re not going to convince me, so don’t bother.” Her brothers sighed. Sam handed the laptop to her.

Emily found the rogue reaper and promised him a favor in exchange for a round trip to hell. It wasn’t even that hard to convince him, she thought, walking around a dark, sketchy alley. But it’s definitely going to come biting me in the ass. She took one last step next to Ajay, the reaper, and the alley morphed into a dark, yet unfamiliar scenario. She was in a forest.

“This isn’t hell,” she said, looking at Ajay. “What the hell, man?”

“Don’t sweat it, Emily Reed, this is purgatory,” he answered. Emily tried to answer but he kept talking. “This is hell-adjacent.” He pointed to a stream of water. “Follow the water to where three trees meet as one. That’s the door.”

“You’re not coming with me?” she asked. Suddenly, in a flash of light, another reaper appeared a few feet away from her. “Busy street, isn’t it?” she asked. The second reaper moved away, revealing his passenger. “Kevin?!” said Emily. Kevin turned, surprised. “What the hell- why are you here?!”

“Hey!” said Kevin to the reaper. “I asked for discretion and you park me next to your colleague?”

“The door’s here.” said the reaper. “You realize how dangerous it is to smuggle humans through the border?” He looked at Kevin, then at Emily. “To smuggle a prophet and a Winchester, especially?” Emily rolled her eyes and looked at Ajay.

“Be here in twenty four hours,” he said. “Don’t be late.” Emily looked back at Kevin and the reaper next to him had disappeared. When she turned to look for Ajay, he was also gone.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” said Emily. Kevin tried to talk. “This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done!” She looked around. “You have any idea how dangerous this place is?”

“You really thought I was gonna let you come alone?” said Kevin. Emily scoffed and started walking on the riverbank, following its stream. “I even brought the gun you gave me last time.”

“Well, bad news, advanced placement, that is just a piece of junk metal down here.” she said. “Now shut up. Half of purgatory is probably looking for us. I’m sure you remember Leviathans don’t exactly die easy.”

“I’m familiar.” Kevin walked closely behind her, looking around. He handed her a plastic bottle. “But I came prepared.” Emily opened the bottle and sniffed it. Borax. She raised her eyebrows, surprised.

“Uh,” she said. “I guess you did.”

“Always that tone of surprise.” Emily stopped and looked at him. Kevin stopped too, almost slipping on the uneven ground.

“Are you trying to win me over with Harry Potter quotes?” Kevin huffed and continued walking. A leviathan jumped out from behind a tree and threw Kevin to the ground. Emily used her powers to move the monster away, then stabbed it. While it was struggling, Emily managed to pick its weapon from the ground. She took a step back to stand next to Kevin, who had loaded his gun. Emily could see his hands shake, so she clenched her hand around the newfound weapon, ready to strike. When the leviathan took a step forward, Kevin fired a shot that missed. Emily stepped forward and cut its head off. As the head rolled downhill and stopped on the riverbank, Emily turned towards Kevin. He still had his eyes closed and his gun pointed. Emily huffed. “Next time,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Keep your eyes open.” Kevin secured his gun and cleared his voice. “It’s easier to hit the target.”

“Sorry,” he said. Emily helped him up. “You were probably right, shouldn’t have come.”

“Of course I was right,” she said. “And you’re welcome.”

“How did you do that?” he asked. “I mean you- you- the leviathan-” Emily sighed.

“Oh, right,” she sighed. “It’s kind of a long story, but…” Emily tried to think of a simple way to explain her powers. “When I was a kid a demon fed me his blood and that… gave me freaky powers.” She kept walking in the direction Ajay had pointed. “And telepathy.” Kevin tripped on something and almost fell.

“What did you say?” he asked, catching up with her.

“I said telepathy,” she looked at Kevin, in silence. He crossed his arms and looked away. Even in the dark of purgatory, Emily could still see that a lot of his blood was rushing to his face.

“So you- you can-”

“Not with you, genius,” she said. “Only with Sam, actually.”

“Oh,” Kevin frowned, actually looking relieved. “Of course. Yeah, it- it makes sense.”

“Don’t worry, Kevin, I’m not in your head,” she said. She spotted a group of three trees. “I see the trees, hurry up.”

“I don’t see anything,” said Kevin, looking at the place where the trees had grown together. Emily walked closer and felt some air, like a gust of wind, coming from behind a stone.

“Help me out with this,” she said. She waited until Kevin was in position and then pulled the stone. When it rolled away, it revealed a hole just where the roots of the trees met. “Ever read Alice in Wonderland, advanced placement?” she asked, taking a step back. Kevin nodded. “Chapter one, down the rabbit hole.”

“Wait, that’s the door?” he asked. Emily looked around.

“Okay, listen to me for a second. I’ve been down there,” she said. Kevin frowned. “It’s fifty shades of crappy. If it’s half as bad as I remember it, it’s going to be seriously scary.” Kevin swallowed. “Whatever happens, you stay close to me, you got that?”

“Yeah, yeah.” he said. “Scary. Crappy. Other negative adverbs. I got that.” Emily looked at him and sighed.

“Ready?” Kevin didn’t answer. She wrapped her hand around his wrist and stepped into the rabbit hole. She blinked and she was in a dark, humid hall. “Okay,” she whispered and looked at her watch. “Twenty four hours start now.” She started walking down the hall, Kevin closely following her. She stopped, seeing a series of tortured souls along the walls.

“Are those…” asked Kevin. Several souls turned, attracted by the sound. Emily gestured at him not to talk and continued. One after the other, all the tortured souls tried to get their attention. They would repeat the same phrase, over and over. “I’m innocent,”, or “You came. I knew you would. I’ve been praying for forever.” Over and over again, in a weird, cacophonic melody of pleads. She wondered what it was that her soul had repeated over and over for a hundred years. When Emily found Bobby’s cage she slowed down and turned to look at Kevin. He didn’t say anything. He bit his nails and crossed his arms.

“Bobby?” she called, opening the cell. The man turned, dark, deep circles marking his eyes. She did some quick math in her head. If time in that part of hell worked like it did for hers, he had been there for more than two centuries. Bobby tried to hit her, but she moved, just for the punch to hit Kevin. He fell back.

“Get out of here, black eyed bitch!” said Bobby.

“What? No, it’s Emily!” she said, avoiding another hit.

“Yeah and I’m Elvis!” Kevin stood back up and massaged his nose. Emily looked at him and sighed. His nose couldn’t get more broken than it already was, right?

“No, seriously, it’s me!” Bobby tried to hit her again, this time Emily took a step back and pushed Kevin back with her. She scowled back at him and he finally moved farther back. “Damn it, okay-” she looked around, checking if someone was coming. “I’ll tell you something only you and I know, okay?” she said. She glared at Kevin and rolled her eyes. The last thing she wanted or needed was for Kevin to know what she was about to tell Bobby. “When I killed myself, I left you a letter that said you were more of a father than John ever was.” Bobby’s eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“Yeah,” she said. “And you were the only person to show up at my high school graduation, because John forgot the date even though you reminded him like a hundred times.” She shrugged. “He was on a hunt, just one state over.” Bobby frowned.

“Emily?” he asked, confused.

“What have I been telling you?” she smiled. “Now come give me a hug before hell comes and fucking kills all of us.” Bobby took a step forward and hugged her. His hands were cold, but just as callous as she remembered them. “I missed you.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re like the- the hundredth Emily I’ve seen today.” he said. Emily frowned. “That’s how they mess with me. They keep sending fake Deans, Sams and Emilys.” Emily crossed her arms, checking that Kevin was still behind her. “Wait a minute, sweetheart, you aren’t-”

“Dead?” she said. “Nah. You know it doesn’t stick with us Winchesters.” Bobby took a deep breath or relief. “Me and Kevin are bailing you out.”

“You’re-” Bobby frowned. “Who’s Kevin?” Emily pointed to Kevin a few steps away, who was wrapping himself in his arms and looking around. “Where the hell did you get that?”

“Prophet of the lord,” Emily explained. “Followed me here against my best advice.”

“Prophet- what the hell is going on?” Bobby complained.

“In short? Dean went to purgatory, Sam went Girl Interrupted, me and the prophet are saving the world.” she said. “Now, can we get out of here?” She grabbed Kevin’s wrist and dragged him in the same direction they came from, then let him go. As they walked, Emily spotted a demon coming their way and pushed both Bobby and Kevin behind a corner. She handed Ruby’s knife to Bobby and kept the weapon she found in purgatory for herself. She saw Kevin put a hand on his gun but she moved it away and gestured at him to stay silent. Kevin swallowed. Emily remained silent, listening to the demon’s steps. When it was just behind the corner, she came out, locked the demon’s arms behind its back and turned it towards Bobby, who stabbed it. Another demon arrived and tried to attack Kevin, but Bobby threw Ruby’s knife to Emily and then shoved the demon in front of her. The knife went through the demon’s throat, blood spurting everywhere. Emily cleaned her face and caught her breath.

“See?” she said to Kevin, who was using his arm to wipe the blood off his face. “This? This is backing me up.” Kevin rolled his eyes and resumed walking. Emily pointed to the direction they entered hell from and waited for Bobby and Kevin to go first. She looked at her watch. Twenty two hours. She pushed Kevin and Bobby through the door and appeared in purgatory.

“What the hell is this?” asked Bobby. Emily sighed and checked if Kevin was still there.

“Purgatory.”

“Oh, so you didn’t mean Purgatory, the gay strip club?” asked Bobby. Emily frowned. “You meant Purgatory, purgatory?”

“Of course, why would it matter that Dean went to a strip club?!” She saw Kevin take a step towards her and moved out of the way. Something hit her on the back. She turned: it was a leviathan's head. Kevin cleaned his face with his t-shirt.

“Thanks,” said Emily, surprised. Kevin opened his mouth. “Yeah, tone of surprise. Sorry. I heard it.” She walked to the riverbank and followed it upstream, to get back to where Ajay had left her.

“So, just to recap…” said Bobby. “You- you and… Kevin, right?” Bobby looked towards Kevin. He weakly nodded. “You said you’re saving the world?”

“Yeah, so- remember how I opened the gates of hell?” she said. Bobby nodded. “Well, my favorite prophet over here has a way to close them.”

“A prophet, uh?” said Bobby. He looked at Emily. She slowed down to walk next to Kevin.

“You all good?” she asked. “You’re not gonna pull a Dobby on me and reveal your mortal injury just when I think everything went well, are you?” Kevin showed her his hands.

“These hands are clean, boss.” he said. “I’m just glad to be out of there. It was way too Dark Souls-y for my taste.”

“Let me get this straight,” said Emily with a huff. “You had time to play Dark Souls, but not to watch Harry Potter?”

“I had limited free time,” he said. “Very limited.” Emily checked her watch.

“So, where are we going, exactly?” asked Bobby. Emily looked around.

“This is the place,” she stopped walking. “The reapers should be back… now.”

“Yeah, I got that, but…” Bobby trailed off. “Where am I going?”

“We got you a deluxe suite in heaven.” said Emily. “At least, I hope.” Bobby shook his head. “I can promise heaven, not the deluxe suite.” Kevin checked the time on Emily’s watch.

“Where are they?” he asked. Emily looked around. “Emily?”

“I’m sorry, do I look like the big boss of all reapers?” she asked. Bobby tried to say something. “That’s Death, I know-” she looked around. “This is the place, right?” Kevin looked around and nodded. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Emily groaned.

“Well, I have to say I missed hearing you say that,” said Bobby. “He’s a few minutes late, what’s the fuss?”

“No, Bobby, he- they- they were specific. They said twenty four hours, to the minute.”

“So, what happens if they don’t show up?” asked Bobby. Emily looked at Kevin.

“Crap,” he said. Emily looked at Bobby and pointed to Kevin.

“We’re all stuck here?” With a roar, a vampire came out of nowhere and tackled Kevin to the floor. She could only take a step before something hit her, too. She struggled to set herself free, unable to keep it away from her. She tried to use her powers, but nothing happened. She pushed the leviathan’s face away and tried to kick it, to get leverage to get him off of herself, but she couldn't. The monster opened its mouth, and Emily instinctively turned her face away and closed her eyes. She felt something warm spray on her face and she turned. The headless body of the vampire fell on her. She moved it out of the way. Kevin helped her up, holding the leviathan blade she’d picked up earlier.

“Next time keep your eyes open,” he said. “It’s easier to hit the target.” Emily was about to answer when she heard struggling. She turned to see Bobby still down, fighting with a vampire. She tried to step towards them, but another figure did first. The vampire rolled off of Bobby's to fight with the mysterious creature. When it had won the fight, the figure stood up. Bobby tried to attack it, too, but Emily stopped him.

“Benny?” she called. The vampire turned and spit out some blood.

“Well, well, well,” said Benny, his teeth retracting. “If it isn’t my favorite nurse.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked.

“Your brother,” he said.

“Sam?” she asked. “Sam killed you? Seriously?”

“What?” The vampire asked. “No. Your other brother. Dean sent me.”

“Dean?” asked Bobby, frowning. “Not my Dean.”

“He’s the reason Dean’s alive,” Emily explained. “He’s good.”

“A freakin vampire?” Bobby asked.

“Yeah, well-” said Emily, helping Kevin stand up. “I had an angel. Sam had a demon. Dean, apparently, had a vampire.” Kevin dragged his hands through his clothes, getting the dirt off of it. “Are you getting us out or what, grandpa?” she asked. The vampire nodded with a smile and started walking. Emily picked up another weapon from the ground and gave it to Kevin. Benny led the group, Bobby keeping his distance. Emily walked next to him.

“He called you his favorite nurse,” he said, confused.

“I saved his ass. Now he’s saving mine.” she said. “Look, I figured if Dean trusted him, I did, too.”

“So, your new boyfriend is a prophet-” said Bobby. Emily turned towards him. Kevin, a few steps past Bobby, picked up his head for a moment and then pretended not to have heard.

“Bobby!” said Emily. “He’s not-” She rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ, why does everyone think that?”

“If he’s not your boyfriend, why did he follow you all the way to hell?” asked Bobby, confused. “It don’t sound like something you do for a friend.” Emily looked at Kevin, who had hurried his steps and was now further away. Bobby shook his head and smiled. “Oh, sweetheart, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Emily asked, looking around.

“It means you still think you can hide stuff from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything!” said Emily.

“You sure about that?” Bobby smirked. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Bobby, we spend half our time fighting, how’s that a good base for a relationship?” she asked.

“As I said, haven’t changed a bit,” Bobby smiled.

“Benny, please tell me we’re almost there.” she called. The vampire turned and smiled.

“It’s just over there,” he said. Emily looked where he was pointing: a small blue cloud was sitting on top of a hill. “That’s the portal.” Emily walked past Bobby, Kevin and Benny and arrived first in front of the portal. It got bigger. Kevin stood next to her.

“Bobby, you got a one way ticket to heaven.” she said. “Once we get out, there’s not gonna be time for goodbyes.”

“I mean, it’s not forever, is it?” said Bobby with a smile. “Just… make sure to take your time. Don’t you dare show up before you turn eighty.”

“You know the spell?” asked Benny. “You better hurry up.” Emily nodded. Bobby used Ruby’s knife to cut his arm. Emily took it and did the same. Kevin hissed, looking at the blood falling on the floor. Emily looked at Bobby, who smirked.

“Conjuncti sumus, unum sumus.” Emily recited. She grabbed Bobby’s arm, the two cuts touching, and he disappeared inside her wound. Then, she turned towards Benny. “Alright, your turn now, Edward Cullen,” she said, ignoring the sting in her right arm. A drop of blood fell on her shoes. She handed the knife to Benny, but he didn’t move. “What? You don’t like Twilight or something?” Three vampires appeared to their left. “Hurry up!” she said.

“Benny!” called the monsters. “Still working with the Winchesters.” Emily turned towards Benny.

“Time for you and your boyfriend to go, kid,” he said.

“Wh-” Benny patted her shoulder and left. Emily tried to go after him.

“You two go, it’s me they want,” said Benny. Emily turned towards Kevin. “Go on. Just… make sure you tell Dean I said goodbye.” Kevin grabbed Emily’s arm.

“Kevin, wait-” she said, turning around and shoving her arm back. She walked back to the vampire. “Benny!”

“I was never any good up there, anyway,” he said. Emily looked back at Kevin, then at Benny, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Jesus Christ, Dean is going to fucking kill me,” she whispered. She took one of the weapons she’d picked up from the leviathans earlier. “Here,” she pushed the weapon in Benny's hand. The vampires were approaching.

“Dean's right about you,” said the vampire before walking down the hill. Emily frowned. She took a step back and climbed back up to the portal. She hesitated looking at Benny being overwhelmed by the monsters. He wasn’t gonna make it. She looked back at Kevin.

“This is the time we leave, right?” he asked. Emily clenched her fists and looked back at Benny another time before she grabbed Kevin’s arm and entered the portal. She fell on her back in the middle of a forest. She looked to her left, where Kevin was sitting back up. She closed her eyes and leaned back on the ground.

“Are you okay?” asked Kevin. Emily nodded.

“Emily!” she heard Dean’s voice call. She stood up. A few yards away, in a clearing, was Dean. He looked at her as she walked towards him. He frowned. “What are you doing here?” he asked, seeing Kevin stumble behind her.

“He’s an idiot, that’s what.” said Emily. Dean touched her shoulder and tried to talk. “I’m fine.” she said. “Dean, Benny, he-”

“He what?” Dean asked.

“He didn’t want to come out,” she said. Dean’s hand fell back on his side. “Vampires showed up and he…” Emily hesitated. “He didn’t want to come out.” Dean looked away, his eyes filling with tears. Emily looked back at Kevin. He crossed his arms. “I’m sorry.” she said. Dean nodded, silent, and licked his lips.

“So, uh-” he cleared his voice. “Bobby, how’d he hold up down there?”

“Everything considered?” Emily said. “Saner than we were when we got out.” She tried to hint a smile, but Dean nodded, silent. “Kevin, do you have the spell?” she asked. Kevin took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her, his hands shaking. Emily took Ruby’s knife and cut her arm again. “Solvo haec phantasmata in terram,” she recited. Her arm glowed a burning yellow, not more painful than the cut itself. “Et inde ad olympum.” From the cut came out a blue light that started moving up. It moved almost to the top of the trees, where it stopped and turned black. “Wh-”

“Hello, Sheep,” said Crowley’s voice. “Squirrel. Kevin.” The demon looked up at Bobby’s soul. “And Bobby Singer. I’d know you anywhere.” Emily’s fingers clutched Ruby’s knife. With a flick of Crowley’s finger, Bobby’s soul started to go back down, but it stopped a few feet from the ground. An angel appeared next to Crowley. Emily looked at Dean. “Oh come on,” said the demon, rolling his eyes.

“Let me see if I interpreted the situation correctly,” said the angel. “The youngest Winchester has freed an innocent from Hell, to which you are wrongfully trying to return it.” Crowley rolled his eyes. Dean leaned closer to Emily.

“That’s the bitch that was controlling Cas,” he whispered. “Name’s Naomi.” Emily’s jaw clenched and her hand moved from her knife to the angel blade Meg gave her.

“Siding with them, Naomi?” Crowley said. “You don't know those three. Before they're done, we'll both be locked away.”

“I'm just hoping they lock you away, dear,” said Naomi with a smile. “The rest I'll figure out.”

“Bureaucrat. You're fighting outside your weight class,” said Crowley. Naomi, angry, took a step forward.

“Don't call me a bureaucrat,” she hissed, extending a hand towards Crowley. Before she could do anything, the demon had disappeared. The angel looked at Dean. “I told you you could trust me.” she said. Bobby’s souls started moving up again, and disappeared in the distance. Emily looked at Dean, then at Kevin, who handed her one last piece of paper. Emily read the enochian spell, her arm once again turning yellow. The same pain she’d felt the first time stung her again, making her fall to the floor. She groaned, holding on the edge of Dean’s jacket, and waited until the pain was gone. She caught her breath.

“Jesus, that was rough,” she whispered, standing back up. Dean looked at her, worried. “I’m fine.” she said. Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Dude,” she smiled, trying to switch the attention on something else. “You saved my ass in there, twice.”

“You what?” asked Dean, turning towards Kevin.

“Don't get me wrong,” she said. Kevin rolled his eyes. “You're still an idiot for coming after me, but you know- thanks.”

Emily looked above her laptop screen just to see Kevin stare blankly in front of him.

“You okay?” she asked. Kevin nodded. His eyes shifted to her and then back to the wall, his nail digging into his arm. Emily frowned. “Are you sure?” Kevin didn't answer. Emily closed her laptop and sighed. She stood up and walked to the coffee pot. She emptied it in the sink and rinsed it. Kevin didn't seem to even realise she had moved. Emily filled the coffee pot with water and turned it on. The sound of the water heating made Kevin turn. He stared at the water as it slowly formed bubbles and started boiling. Emily took two teabags out of her backpack and dropped them in the water. It was only then that Kevin looked up.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Tea,” she answered.

“Why?”

“Dude, just tell me what's going on.” Kevin's hand moved away from the opposite arm, where his nails had left four purple marks.

“When- when we were down there... you- you said you'd been to hell.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Why?”

“So, you- you-” Kevin rolled his eyes and trailed off. Emily grabbed two cups off the magnetically closed cabinet and filled them with tea.

“Seeing purgatory and hell for the first time all in one trip must have been a treat,” she said. Kevin didn't answer. He stared in front of him. Emily put one of the cups in front of him, he winced. She sighed and shook her head. She took her cup and walked towards the window, she looked outside. Her car was parked not too far away but she'd been there for days and it was starting to get covered in leaves. She lit a cigarette. Travelling all the way from Kansas to the Mexico border was starting to get old, so Emily’d been spending more time on the boat. But in the previous three days, after she'd driven Kevin back from the second trial, he'd barely spoken. He would act normal, otherwise. Just, silent. “Is that where you're going?” asked Kevin. Emily didn't turn. She closed her eyes and sighed. “When you die, from the trials, is that where you're going?”

“I don't know,” said Emily. Kevin remained silent.

“That’s just it?” he asked a few seconds later. “You don’t know?”

“What difference does it make?” she asked. Kevin looked away and scoffed. Emily shook her head. “Look, how about we take the night off?”

“No, it’s fine.” Kevin pushed the tea away and dragged the tablet back in front of him. Emily crossed her arms. “I don’t want this to drag out any longer.” Emily leaned on the wall next to the window, smoking, and looked at Kevin. He tapped his pencil on his temple and stared at the tablet. A few minutes later, he looked up and stared at the wall for a few minutes before releasing a frustrated groan.

“Can’t focus?” asked Emily. Kevin ignored her. “Dude, why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” Again, Kevin didn’t even look at her. A wave of frustration went through Emily’s body. She took a deep breath and bit the inside of her cheek. “Okay, you know what?” she said. “I’m just gonna go, okay?” Kevin’s eyes shot up. Emily walked towards her backpack. “I’m not gonna sit here waiting for you to get over this weird, stupid male pride thing, okay?” Kevin tried to open his mouth to speak, but Emily continued. “Hell is fucked up! What happened to Benny is fucked up! You don't need to-”

“That’s not-”

“You realize I could just… Not give a shit about you, right? I could just call once a month to see if you're still alive.”

“Why don't you do it then?” Kevin asked, pushing the tea cup away.

“Because I was under the impression that we were doing something together!” Emily yelled. “You know, like- like a fucking team! But apparently, I was wrong!”

“A team?” asked Kevin. “I'm stuck in this shit hole, alone, I'm going crazy, I can't go out, I can't open the windows, I can't-”

“I asked you a thousand times if you wanted to come back to the Bunker!”

“I don't!”

“Then what the hell do you want from me?!” yelled Emily. Kevin shook his head. “You know what? Grow up.” She picked up her backpack. “Call me when you're ready to stop acting like a baby.”

Emily hadn't heard from Kevin in days, and it was starting to stress her out. She was starting to rethink leaving him like that, maybe she should have been more patient. Maybe she could have done it better. She definitely could have. Because she knew how Kevin was feeling, she didn't really need for him to say anything. But at the same time, that was what she did with Dean. And Sam. All the fucking time. And she wanted, just for once, to not do that. She wanted not to have to guess what people were feeling. Kevin didn't call her or text her, she didn't either. He was always saying how much he didn't need her help, right? That was the perfect opportunity to prove himself. No contact was made for an entire week. Then, Emily's phone rang and it was Kevin.

“Hello?”

“Oh, oh- You answ’ed!” said Kevin. Oh, not again. “Look, I- I- I found some… some gin here on the boat-”

“You what?!” Emily asked, already walking towards her backpack. The trials had been taking a toll on her, so she groaned as she stood up, the pain in her body overwhelming her for just a moment.

“I- I wanted to call you, because- because…” Kevin trailed off. Emily sighed. “I don't know, act’lly, I- I forgot-” Kevin chuckled. Fuck.

“Are you drunk?” asked Emily.

“I guess,” said Kevin. “Oh! I remember now!” Emily remained silent. “I said I remember!”

“What?”

“Why I called!”

“Okay…” Emily took the car keys from her desk. “And why is that?”

“I wanted to tell you something,” said Kevin. Fuck fuck fuck. “But you- you- you should come here!”

“Kevin, I'm not driving four hours to see you drunk,” she lied, putting on her overalls.

“C’me ooooooon, you should come down here, we can have a drink t’gether!” Fuuuuck.

“Dude, we talked about this. I'm not coming there if you're going to-”

“Oh, don't worry about that-” said Kevin. “I'm all grown up!” Emily sighed. “Aaaaand I really want to tell you something!” Fuck.

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m gonna be there tonight, okay?”

“What?!” said Kevin. “Nooo, no no no, just- come now!” he complained. Emily stopped walking and groaned again. She couldn’t go. At least, not until she found some meds that worked.

“Kevin, I can't-”

“Pleeeeease-”

“Why is it so important that I come now?” Emily put down her backpack and walked towards the infirmary. She had to have left something there.

“I have to tell you something!” Kevin repeated.

“Yeah, I got that, you said it three times already!” Emily complained. She found a bottle of pain meds. “Look, I’m gonna leave in like- an hour.” Kevin didn’t answer and Emily only heard the harsh sound of his fingers over the microphone. “Kevin, what the hell are you doing?”

“Putting my jacket on!” he said. “If you’re not coming here, I’m going to-”

“Woah, woah, slow down, you’re not going anywhere!” said Emily. “First, it’s probably suicide to step out of that boat, and second- you’re drunk! You can’t drive!”

“I’m tired of being stuck here!” said Kevin. “I want tooo…” He trailed off. Emily frowned, yellow bottle in her hands.

“Kevin?”

“Sorry, I- I’m not sure what I was about to say,” he said. Emily opened the cap and swallowed two pills.

“Okay, listen to me,” she sighed. “I’m gonna leave now, happy?”

“How long?” Kevin asked. Emily rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know, four hours?” she said, walking towards the garage.

“But that’s like- sooooo long!”

“Dude, I’m in Kansas. It doesn’t get faster than that,” she said, picking up her backpack from the floor.

“But I need to tell you something!”

“Yeah, it’s gonna have to wait!”

When she parked the car in South Padre, it was exactly four hours later. She’d lost count of how many times she’d cursed Kevin out, and also of the times he’d tried to call her. She checked her phone. Twenty seven. Jesus fucking christ. All she could hope for was that that alcohol had come down enough and that he would do or say something that would have made the situation more tense than it already was.

“Kevin, open up!” She knocked on the door. Kevin opened it and let her in. It took Emily one second too long to realize Kevin would never let her in that easily, and she felt the bucket of cold- very cold holy ocean water fall on her face. She shook it off her eyes. Kevin looked at her, still suspicious. “What the hell, dude?” Kevin took a step back and lost his balance. Great. He’s still drunk. “Was the shower really necessary?!”

Emily came out of the bathroom rubbing a towel over her hair. Kevin was opening a beer can. Emily took it from his hands.

“How about you slow down, tiger?” she said, taking a sip for herself. “You seem drunk enough.” Kevin rolled his eyes.

“Why d’you have to be like that?!” he said. “You've been obsessing ov’r me taking a break for the past ye’r and now that I’m taking th’break… you complain?”

“How much have you had to drink?” she asked. Kevin moved his hand in front of his face and started counting with his fingers.

“Six.”

“Six what?!” asked Emily, alarmed.

“Beers!” Emily blinked a couple of times, then turned the beer can she was holding.

“Okay, six of these?” Kevin nodded. “That’s…” Emily frowned, trying to calculate in her head. “Point zero five?” Kevin shrugged. “I guess that’s not-”

“And two of these!” Kevin flung his arm to point at a bottle of gin.

“Okay, Kevin, Jesus Christ-” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“What?” he asked, almost losing his balance again.

“What did you do that for?” she asked, sitting down at the table. She put the beer in front of him and Kevin reached for it. She moved it to her lap.

“I was bored!” he said. “And I didn’t want to think about hell and- and that girl- Margie-”

“Okay…” Emily sighed. “What about some food, uh?” she asked. Kevin looked at her and frowned for a moment.

“Okay.” He shrugged. Emily raised her eyebrows, surprised. She stood up and reached for her backpack and Kevin walked behind her, leaning over her shoulder to see what was in it. Seeing him way too close to her face, she cleared her voice and handed him a pack of chips.

“Here,” she said, taking a step back.

“How did you get here so fast?!” he asked. “You said four hours!”

“It’s… it’s been four hours, Kevin,” she said. Kevin looked at the time on his phone, confused. “But I have to leave tomorrow night, okay? Sam needs help with some research.”

“Ooooh, so you don't have to drive!” Kevin said, smiling. “So you can get drunk with me?!”

“You don’t have enough alcohol in this boat to get me drunk,” she smirked. Kevin took a handful of chips and shoved it in his mouth, crumbs going anywhere.

“These chips are sooo good!” he said. A few crumbs fell from his mouth and on the floor. Emily shook her head. “How many more drinks until I stop thinking about hell?” he asked. Emily sighed.

“Told you, that's not how it works,” she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Getting drunk is not going to make you forget anything. It just makes you dumb.”

“Oh,” Kevin frowned. He looked at Emily. “Do you think I'm dumb?”

“No,” said Emily. Kevin remained silent. “I'm serious. You know what would have helped you? Talking with me when I asked you to!”

“But I didn't want to!”

“Why?!”

“Because if you think 'm weak, y're not going to let me come to the third ‘rial!”

“Or,” said Emily. “Maybe I'm not going to let you come because I'm going to die during that trial, and you've been through enough, how about that?”

“So, I was right!” said Kevin. “You do think I'm weak!”

“What?!” Emily frowned. “That's not what I said, I-”

“You know, even if I'm drunk, you're still a bitch, and I still can't stand you!” Kevin complained, putting down the chips.

“Kevin, for the love of God…” Emily sighed and turned away. “You asked me to come here! You begged this bitch to drive four hours away from her family!”

“You have no idea how fucking lonely it gets here!” yelled Kevin. “And what am I going to do here when you die?!” He put his hands on Emily's shoulders and shook her back and forth. “I don't want you to die!”

“Dude-” Emily put her hands on Kevin's shoulders to stop herself. “When I die, you're going back home.”

“And then what?! My mom is dead, I am not going to college anytime soon, and I don't have a job!”

“You'll find one,” Emily said. “Kevin, everything will be okay.”

“And what about Sam and- and Dean? I'm sure they're going to find some shit for me to translate or something-” Emily looked away. That was not a good moment to tell him they had, in fact, already found something else. Kevin picked the beer up from the table.

“Okay and?” said Emily. “Fuck what they want. What do you want?” Kevin looked at her and frowned. He crossed his arms, finally letting go of Emily. He took a step back. “You're gonna move on, Kevin. And this? This is just going to be a nightmare you have twice a year.”

“I don't like being alone,” he said. Emily sighed. “I don't like it when it's this quiet, please, just- just-”

“Kevin, I'm here now, okay?” she said. “And you're drunk. Very drunk.”

“Yeah- I wanted to- to tell you-” Oh fuck no, change subject, fast. Emily turned and took the beer out of his hands. “Hey!”

“Do you know how to play chess?” she asked. Kevin frowned, his eyes lingering on something behind Emily for a moment.

“Can we play alcoholic chess?” he asked, eyes focusing again.

“I really don't want you to puke on me again,” she smiled. “But we can give it a try.”

“I'm not going to puke! I'm not a kid!” Kevin complained.

“Okay,” Emily shook her head. “Let's set up, I saw a board in here somewhere.”

Emily stared at the board as Kevin thought of his first move.

“What's the time limit?” he asked. Emily shrugged. The board was missing a few pieces, which they replaced with a beer cap, a chip and a piece of paper.

“I'll wait, take your time,” she said, leaning back in the chair.

“Are you good at this game?” Kevin asked.

“Kinda,” she said. “I got a gold medal when I was twelve.”

“Seriously?” Kevin frowned.

“I won against senior year students,” she smirked. Kevin nodded. “Are you good?”

“I had a 2000 rating on chess.com,” Kevin said, inspecting the pieces.

“You what?!” Emily almost spit out her beer. “Dude, you're so going to destroy me!”

“I don't know…” said Kevin. “I'm drunk,” He moved a pawn forward three blocks.

“Dude,” Emily sighed. “You can't do that.” Kevin looked at her, confused. She moved the pawn back one square and crossed her arms, thinking about her move.

“Can I ask you something?” asked Kevin, putting one foot on the chair. He was starting to look like that guy from Death Note. Just with chips instead of sweets. Emily nodded. “Did you… did you grow up a hunter?” she shook her head.

“No, I- Uh-...” Emily moved her pawn forward and Kevin illegally caught it. Emily shook her head and smiled. She moved her rook through the pawns and caught his rook. “My mom died back in 2002, when I was fourteen.” Kevin moved his knight as if it was the queen. “It was an interesting way to start my senior year.”

“So you were… good good? I thought you were messing with me.” he asked.

“Nope, that just… my life,” Emily sighed.

“Damn,” said Kevin. “It must have been awful growing up.”

“I mean… Not as awful as living with John Winchester,” she answered. She caught Kevin's king and exchanged it with one of her pawns. The chess game was fucked, and Kevin didn't seem to mind. “What about you? Was it fun to grow up smart?”

“Nah,” said Kevin. “But looking back… a boring life was better than being stuck in here.” He looked at Emily and shrugged. “Or maybe not, I don't know.”

“Give me the bottle,” she said, gesturing towards the gin. Kevin handed her the bottle and she poured herself a drink. “Tell me about your life,” she said. “I'm sure it wasn't that bad.”

“There's not much to say,” he answered. “I studied, mostly. I told you, it was boring.” Emily took a sip of her drink and crossed her legs. “What about you?”

“I was in ballet,” said Emily. “You know, homeschooled kid, good at sports, helped at home… And then, one night- boom.”

“I mean… I wasn't really good at sports, but- yeah, one night, it all went…boom.”

“Boom.” Emily blew over the chess board and made the pieces fall. “I think I won.” she said.

“I thought you said I was going to destroy you,” Kevin frowned.

“I did,” said Emily with a sigh. “I did say that.” She looked at him for a moment before pushing her chair back. “So, your old life.” she said, leaning back. “What was the plan?”

“Med school,” he said. “Be a doctor, I guess.”

“Seriously?” she asked. “I got accepted into pre med before it all went to shit.”

“Where?”

“Stanford,” Emily smiled. “But I'll be real - I wouldn't go back now.” Kevin frowned.

“Why?”

“Seen way too much blood,” she said. “So, tell me about your plans for the future.”

“What future?”

“I mean, we're close to the last trial,” said Emily. “It's almost over.”

“Yeah, but you're gonna be dead,” he said. Emily frowned.

“I asked you about your future, not mine.” Kevin shook his head. “What?”

“What's the difference?!” asked Kevin. “If you're dead, I- I- I don't know-”

“Dude, I told you, you're going to be fine,” Emily said, taking a deep breath.

“Don't call me dude!” Kevin snapped. Emily frowned. “I'm not- we're not-”

“What am I supposed to call you?” asked Emily. Kevin opened his mouth to answer. “Okay, maybe don't answer that- Just-”

“Why?! What do you think I'm gonna say?” he asked. Emily shook her head.

“Kevin, you're drunk!” she said. “And I think you're gonna say something very stupid we both know you're gonna regret!”

“Why would I regret it?” Kevin asked. Emily looked at him.

“Because I'm going to die, for Christ's sake! I'm gonna die and there's nothing you can do about it!”

“Okay, so I'll never translate the last trial! So you never die!”

“Kevin, that's not how it works! I'm getting worse by the day, I'm going to die, third trial or not!” Kevin looked at her and for a moment Emily thought he was going to cry, but then he stood up.

“I hate you,” he said and turned around. A few pieces of chess fell to the ground. Kevin took a few steps away. “I can't do this anymore!”

“Kevin-” Emily leaned back in the chair and sighed. “Sit down, okay? We can talk about this.”

“No, I don't want to talk! I'm tired of talking!” Kevin yelled. “I want to-”

“Okay, you know what?!” Emily said, standing up. “Maybe I should leave!”

“What?” Kevin turned.

“Jesus- I knew coming here was a dumb idea,” she said, grabbing her backpack.

“Really?!”

“Really! I thought- you know-” she trailed off and groaned. “But I guess I should have known better!” Kevin shook his head. “I should have known this was just another stupid stunt!”

“Why do you think I've done all those ‘stupid things’?!” asked Kevin. Emily walked towards the door.

“I'm gonna go,” she said. “I’m sorry, okay? But I’m the one who opened the gates of hell,” she said. “And I- I- I just can't, okay?” As she left, Emily felt Kevin's eyes on her. She slammed the door behind her and walked to her car. It was late to drive back. Her entire body ached and she hadn't brought any more pain meds. So, she climbed into the backseat and laid down. She closed her eyes. Fuck. She thought. I can't believe this is happening. She couldn't leave. She didn't want to. She wasn't even too sure she really wanted to finish the trials. Sure, the world would be a better place, but Kevin seemed to be really out of himself for the fact she was going to die and that just didn't sit right with Emily. She felt like she needed to do something to help him, she just had no idea what.

Emily woke up the next morning, still in her car, to someone knocking on her window. She focused her eyes and it was Kevin. Alarmed, she rushed out of the vehicle.

“What are you doing out here?!” she asked, dragging Kevin back towards the boat. “Do you realise how much-”

“I don't care!” he yelled. Emily kept dragging him and shoved him back into the boat. “Let me go!”

“No- stop!” Emily shoved Kevin through the last door and slammed it behind her. “Why would you come out here? After everything we've done to fucking keep you hidden? We're gonna have to move you again, genius!”

“Crowley knows where I am,” said Kevin. Emily froze. “I think he's known for a while, I-”

“Wh- H- Are you still drunk?!” Emily asked, confused.

“What?!” Kevin frowned. “No! I- I've been looking for you everywhere for like ten minutes! What were you doing sleeping out there?” Emily looked around her. Judging by the amount of bottles that were not there the night before, he was, in fact, drunk. And he didn't remember their fight. Of course he didn't remember. “I think Crowley might be in my head.”

“I doubt that,” said Emily. “Crowley can't read your mind.”

“Are you sure?” Kevin asked.

“Of course! Dude- did you go to sleep?”

“I mean- a couple of hours, but-”

“You need more than a couple of hours,” she said. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you might be delirious.”

“What? I'm fine, I'm just saying-”

“Kevin, no one is in your head but you!” she said. Kevin looked at her for a moment, then took a step back.

“You,” he said. “You're one of them!”

“Wh-” Before Emily could say anything, Kevin reached for a knife on the kitchen counter and attacked her. She felt something warm on her leg, along with a sharp pain. Her vision went double and she looked down. Kevin had stabbed her leg. When she looked back up, he was gone.

When she opened her eyes again, Sam was splashing freezing water in her face. “Jesus-” she groaned. “What the hell, Sam!” Dean was next to her, stitching her up.

“What happened?!” he asked, worried.

“Kevin lost it for good,” she said. She looked around. “How did you even know I was in trouble?”

“You weren't answering your phone,” Sam explained. “At first, Dean was making jokes about you and- well you and Kevin, but then we got worried.”

“Typical,” she sighed. “Yeah, Kevin stabbed me and took off,” she explained.

“It’s okay, we’ll go back to the Bunker. Can you walk?” Emily tried to put weight on her leg, but fell to the ground with a groan of pain. “It's okay, I’ll carry you. Come on…”

I am damaged

from Heathers The musical

Emily had been in her room for who knew how long. She'd lost track of time. Dean had been watching her every step, forcing her back to bed every few hours. “You need to rest,” he said. She complained every single time. But she wasn't nearly strong enough to fight back. She'd tried to work on finding Kevin, but looking at a screen felt like someone was stabbing her eyes. Hunting was out of the question. She could barely sit up straight. She knew at that speed, there was no way she could have done another trial. The only thing that kept her going was painkillers, weed and coffee in large quantities. That worked, but only for a few hours, and then the pain came back with interest. Emily had been listening to Sam and Dean arguing over who should come into her room for ten minutes, when finally the door opened and Sam showed up. Her powers were barely working anymore, but her neck itched in such a sudden and aggressive way that she knew: something was wrong. Very wrong. Sam hesitated on the door and Emily forced herself out of bed. She pushed herself away hard enough to land on the wall. Her cheek smacked on the concrete and she grimaced, in pain.

“What the hell is going on?” she asked. Sam looked outside the room and sighed. “Just tell me!”she yelled. Dean rolled his eyes and walked inside the room.

“We got a message from Kevin,” he said. Emily’s eyes widened. Fuck. She knew exactly what Dean was talking about. Automated message, only Kevin knew how to stop it from sending, and if it didn’t it meant he was dead.

“Shit.” Emily didn’t cry. Maybe her body wasn’t strong enough to feel emotions, but literally nothing happened in her brain. Except the drive to finish the trials. She was gonna drag herself through the last trials if she had to. “Shit,” she repeated. Dean looked at her and opened his mouth to talk. “I swear to god if either of you say a single word I’m gonna punch you.” That was an empty threat, she knew it, they knew it. She limped out of her room and into the hallway.

“Kid, you’re bleeding,” said Sam. Emily stopped and contemplated murder for a second before realizing what he’d said. She touched her face.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, pulling her t-shirt up to clean herself. Dean slapped her hands away and gave her a tissue. “Thanks,” she sighed and continued walking.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“What part of don’t talk to me don’t you understand?” Emily asked. “I want back in, okay? I’m done rotting in that stupid room.”

“Kid, you can barely stand,” said Sam, catching up with her. “Look, I don't mean to-”

“Cool, then don't,”she said. “Where the fuck did you put my gun?”

“Woah, woah,” Dean said. “How about you lay down the tough guy act for a second?” He walked next to her and put a hand on her forehead. “You got a fever, okay? You gotta-”

“I’ll take a Tylenol,” Emily complained. She touched her forehead. “Or… three?” she sighed. “Look, I’m fine, okay? You know who’s not gonna be fine in a few hours? Crowley.” Dean frowned. “I’m done playing this game, I’m gonna kill the bastard.”

“Okay, I’m all for that,” Dean said. “But I don’t think you’re ready for a big showdown.”

“Why? Because I have a fever?” Emily raised her eyebrows. Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, I’ve been in here for weeks, it’s only getting worse, I better tie up my loose ends while I can.” Emily walked towards the infirmary.

“Okay, okay, wait a second,” Sam said, appearing next to her. She rolled her eyes. “We might have found something about the third trial.”

“Cool, where?” she asked. Sam sighed and looked back at Dean. “What, you think you can tell me that and then tell me to stay home?” she asked, opening the infirmary door with her shoulder. “You should know better at that point.” She walked to a cabinet and opened it.

“And how exactly do you plan on coming all the way to Colorado when you can barely walk around?” Dean asked, crossing her arms. Emily took a bottle of Tylenol, opened it and shook five of them in her hands. Before either Sam or Dean could complain, she shoved them in her mouth and swallowed.

“Emily!” Sam complained. Emily ignored him and walked out of the infirmary and towards the bathroom. “What the hell?!”

“Oh, grow up, the lethal dose is like- thirty of those,” she said. “I’ll be fine.” Emily entered the bathroom and filled a glass with water. She had a Tylenol stuck in her mouth she had to swallow. “We leave in ten, hurry up or I’ll drive there myself.” Sam looked at Dean for a moment.

“Emily-”

“Fine,” Dean said. Sam turned.

“Dean!” he complained.

“What?” Dean answered. “She wants to come, let her come.” Emily swallowed the water. “There’s ground rules, tho,” he continued. “No guns, no action, and if I see you’re not up to it I lock you into the motel and leave you there.” Emily looked at her, accepting a challenge Dean had not issued. She walked down the hallway again and went down the stairs, each step hurting like someone was chewing on her knees. She entered the practice room and grabbed a gun. Dean followed her in and rolled his eyes. “Emily, you-” she interrupted him by loading a gun and shooting at the target. All five bullets she shot went through the carton figure. Dean looked at the target for a moment. “No gun,” he repeated. Emily opened her mouth to complain, but he continued: “Unless necessary.”

“Okay, fine,” Emily said, giving up. No gun was better than staying home, and just like that she felt fourteen again. She looked at Dean and walked back up the stairs.

Emily woke up submerged in freezing water. She gasped, trying to walk out of the bathtub but slipped. Dean rushed into the room.

“What the hell, dude?!” she yelled, finally stepping out of the bathtub.

“You passed out while we were checking in, you were burning up, it was either this or the ER,” Dean said, handing her a towel. Emily wrapped herself in it, shivering, and looked around. They were not in the usual motel. It looked like an actual hotel. She tried to comment on it, but she started hearing a strong, sharp ring in her left ear.

“Ow,” she groaned, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Dean frowned. “What the fuck was that?” she asked as the sound disappeared.

“What?” Dean asked. Emily looked at him and the ring resumed. It kept going and turned into something similar to telepathy. If telepathy made her neck itch, the ring hurt her entire body, but for a second, she saw another room in the hotel, a man sitting in it. He was writing surrounded by piles of books.

“He’s here,” Emily said, catching her breath. Dean walked inside, concerned. “Metatron’s here, he’s in room 514.”

“I’m gonna call Sam,” Dean said, taking the phone from his pocket. Emily pulled the towel away from around her and dragged it on her face. She could do it. She could manage the rest of the day without passing out again. She walked out of the room, ice water dripping everywhere, and walked to her backpack. She swallowed another Tylenol. It had to do something, right? Dena closed the call with Sam while she was changing out of her wet clothes. “He’s coming back,” he said. Emily nodded. “Kid, I think you should be going to the ER.”

“And what?” Emily complained, struggling against her overalls getting stuck to her skin. “I’m not sick, Dean, this- this can’t be fixed with medicine, okay?” Dean shook his head. “Look, I- I think I know what’s going on,” she explained. “I found it in Kevin’s note while he slept.” Dean looked at her. The door opened and Sam walked in. “There’s a reason my powers are not working anymore,” she explained. “The trials, they- they’re basically purifying me.” Her throat closed for a second, but she cleared it and kept talking. “And I- I don’t feel anything anymore, at least, not like I used to, which means I was right, and the only reason I acted like I did was the demon blood.”

“Emily-”

“Dude, after the second trial, I- I- I just don’t feel like I used to, I’m- I don’t know, it’s like I’m empty.”

“So what, we’re gonna get to meet a new you?” Sam asked, trying to hint at a smile. Emily looked at him and sighed.

“Room 514,” she said, walking past him and out the door.

The closer she got to the room, the louder the ring grew. She could barely stand when she pushed the door open and fell to the ground. When she looked up, Metatron was pointing a rifle at her.

Dean asked something, but Emily couldn’t understand a single word. She moved the rifle away from her face, but the angel pointed it again.

“What?” she asked, looking back at Dean. He helped her stand up and sit down on a chair. She could see their mouths move, but couldn’t hear anything, the ring too loud. “Can you turn the damn thing down?!” she asked. Her brothers and Metatron turned around to look at her, confused. The angel took a few steps back, and Emily took a deep breath, the ring quieting just enough for her to hear.

“You’ve undertaken the trials,” he said. “You get that far along without dying, you start resonating with the Word of God.”

“Well, can you make it stop?!” she asked, massaging her head. Metatron shook his head. “Alright, another ask, you- you wrote it all, right?” she said. You- you wrote the tablets.”

“Of course I did,” Metatron said. “It was the last thing God ever had me write before he left.”

“Cool, I need you to tell me what the third trial is,” Emily said. “And I don’t mean that as an ask, I mean that as in ‘just fucking tell me’, because I’m not gonna go without finishing the damn thing.”

“Afraid I can’t help,” Metatron said. Emily rolled her eyes and stood up. “If you’ve come so far, you must have had the Prophet on your side, what happened to him?”

“He’s dead,” Dean said.

“And don’t tell me another Prophet is gonna turn up because I don’t have the time to wait around,” Emily said. “Literally.”

“Oh my,” Metatron sighed. “Okay, I- I guess I could tell you.” He stood up and walked to a pile of books. As he walked closer to her, the ring became almost unbearable and she felt something wet on the side of her face. She touched it: she was bleeding from her ear. Metatron walked back to the other side of the room and handed Sam a piece of paper.

“Cure a demon?” he read, confused. “Seriously?”

“Yes, exactly,” the angel said. “That is the last trial.”

Emily was starting to think she wasn’t gonna be able to finish the trials. She’d tried raw dogging through the pain, she tried every drug and med ever invented in every dose that was somewhat safe. Castiel even tried healing her. Nothing stuck and nothing made her strong enough to get out there and find Crowley. Because she could not settle for any demon. No, Emily wanted to cure Crowley. Out of principle alone, since Kevin was put through hell because of him, but also, because she probably wasn’t going to get a second chance at icing him. But her body wasn’t gonna give her a first chance, either. She could barely stay awake. She just slept all day, sometimes saw Sam and Dean get in and out of the room. They looked worried, but they never said much. Especially not Sam. What really made her mad was that she was going to die without ever patching things up with him. He kept her away for a whole year while he was in the psych ward, he never even wanted to take a call from her, and she never really got over that. That, and the fact he didn’t want to look for Dean, that he just gave up on him. And he didn’t call her when he got his soul back. It had been a while since they’d sat down to properly talk it out. And she wasn’t gonna get a chance to. She was going to die, and she wasn’t gonna close the gates of hell. What the hell had she done of good, then? She spent her entire life fighting with people, which may or may have been not the demon’s blood’s fault, which she maybe knew, but had chosen to ignore for years because it was easier that way. She even managed to fuck it all up with Kevin to the point she ended up stabbed on the wet floor of a boat. She fucked it up so bad he ended up dead, when the entire plan was for him to survive. That was the whole point, keeping people safe by shutting down hell, and instead, she just managed to get more people killed. Dean entered the room. He looked rushed and he had coffee.

“Emily, wake up,” he said. Emily opened her eyes and looked at him. “Everything’s ready for the third trial.”

“What?” she asked. That was the most awareness she’d had all week. But something about being able to do the trial pushed her to wake up.

“We got Crowley, we got the instructions, you just need to get down there and do it.”

“Dean, I can’t,” she whispered. “It hurts, like- all of it, I- I don’t-”

“I know kid, but you gotta power through, okay? It’s almost over,” Dean said. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” Emily didn’t have the strength to question him, correct him or complain. She drank the coffee. “I found some stronger pain meds,” he said, giving her a prescription bottle. “They should help.” Again, she didn’t question it, she just swallowed two of them and tried to stand up. It felt like walking on fire, while her entire body was also on fire, while she was being stung by a billion bees. And if that weren’t enough, she also had to vomit. Somehow, she got into the car and entered a church. The pain meds were doing something, but she wasn’t sure it wasn’t anything good. Dean gave her instructions. She needed purified blood, and that meant confession.

“Dude, I- I never did that,” she said, leaning on the Impala. Sam sat standing a few feet from her, hands in his pockets. “How am I supposed-”

“I mean, I guess you just sit down and… tell god all the shit you’ve done?” Dean said. Emily sighed.

“Kid, just- take some weights off your chest,” Sam explained. “And I guess say sorry.”

“Fine,” she said. She limped to the church, Sam helping her through the door. She sat down on one of the benches. It reminded her of the six months spent in that church with Kevin. It was messy, sure, but it was somehow the best time she’d had in years. There was no impending apocalypse, no big bad guy hunting her down. All she had to do was exist and make sure Kevin ate something. And yeah, maybe he was a pain in the ass at times, but most days everything was painfully normal. And maybe she liked it. But that was not what she wanted to talk about. Not with God or whoever was listening. If anybody was at all.

“Alright, well,” she whispered. “I guess I should start with ‘sorry for not coming to church like- ever’.” Emily looked around. What the hell was she doing? Nobody was listening. Maybe only Crowley on the other side of the church. Her head pulsed with pain and she closed her eyes. “So, I’ve done my fair share of shit,” she continued. “And I know I’m supposed to be sorry for that, but for a lot of it I had good reasons.” Nobody answered if not the wind whistling through a broken window. “I mean, there was the whole… Killing myself thing, but I’d say the real sinners are the ones that drove me to it. Also the cigarettes and- and the pot and the Risperdals I took for months, but that’s… I mean I guess that is my fault.” Emily stopped to think. None of that stuff really mattered to God. “But I guess what you really care about is the fact I opened the gates of hell and look- I- I was a kid, okay? And I didn’t know what I was doing, I- I just wanted my brother back. I… I wish I could pin this on Dean but I think I get it now,” she said. “He was just trying to protect me from what he was feeling and from- from the pain of this job and I hated him for it, but… he was right. You can’t be a kid if you’re gonna be in this life. And I was a kid.” Emily swallowed, her throat closing. “I was just a kid, okay? And- and all this stuff it- it just landed on me and I couldn’t- I couldn't-” Emily dried her face. “I guess he just wanted me to survive and- God-” Emily closed her eyes and held her breath. “I just wanted to be a kid, what- why didn’t I get to do that, uh?!” Emily stared in front of her, crying, for a good minute, looking for something to say that wouldn’t end up in blasphemy. “So I guess I regret doing that, but- I’m just trying to get by, man, I’m doing my best, it’s just- maybe- maybe I’m not cut out to do this job, which is why I keep fucking it up.” She dried her face, waited a moment, then stood up and walked back out. sam was gone.

“Where is he?” Emily asked. Dean tapped his fingers on top of the car.

“Cas called, he- he’s trying to shut down Heaven,” Dean said. Emily frowned.

“And what are you doing here, then?” Emily asked, reaching into the trunk looking for the syringes. “Let’s not drag this out, okay? Let’s just say goodbye and then I’m gonna go finish this thing.” Dean frowned.

“What are you talking about, Emily?” he asked. “Metatron said you’ll be fine once the trials are over.” Emily looked at him for a second.

“No he didn’t,” Emily said. “Dude, the tablet’s very clear about that.”

“What’s it say?” he asked, putting his hands on his waist. “I mean, he wrote ‘em, I think he’d know.”

“Something about having my spine ripped out of me for eternity,” she said. “Which is a fair description of how I feel, honestly.”

“Emily, it’s gonna be fine,” Dean said. “You’re gonna feel better.”

“Okay, assume I believe this, what are you doing here then?” she asked. “If I’m gonna be fine, just go with Sam, close the pearly gates or whatever.” Dean looked away. “I started this alone, I’m gonna finish it alone.”

“No can do, kid, I’m gonn-” Dean’s phone started ringing and he stopped talking. He looked at the message, then at Emily. He swallowed. “I’m gonna stay here with you, okay? What if Crowley sets himself free?”

“Okay,” Emily sighed and tried to lift the wooden box of syringes. Dean moved her out of the way and lifted it himself. He brought it inside the church himself and set it next to Crowley, waking him up.

“Look who’s here,” he said. “Hello, Sheep, I thought you were dying.” Emily ignored him and took a syringe from the box. She stuck it in her arm and drew blood. Just what she needed: losing more blood, because she wasn’t weak enough, right?” She looked at Dean and he nodded. She extracted the needle from her arm and stuck it in Crowley’s neck. Just as she was about to extract it, he bit her on the arm.

“Dude!” she yelled, moving away. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” She rolled her eyes and walked to Dean, who was already rushing towards her. “Can you grab me the first aid kit from my bag?” she asked. Dean nodded and walked towards the door. She placed both hands on the altar and sighed. She had to pace herself. Dean had said a couple doses each hour. Which means she was gonna be there for twelve hours. She could barely stand as it was, and she was gonna lose a lot of blood in the process. Dean came back in and medicated her arm. “Dean, I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered. He looked at her.

“Yes you can,” he said. “You’re a tough one, okay? You just have to hold on.”

“It hurts,” she said. “I- I don’t-”

“Listen to me,” Dean said. “I know we’ve been fighting each other for all our lives, but I believe in you, okay?” Emily looked away. “You’re not a kid anymore.”

“That’s the point, Dean,” she said. “I never got the chance to be a kid, all I’ve done is fuck everything up and now I’m gonna die and I’m gonna fuck this up, too!”

“Good, get angry,” Dean said. “If that works, fine with me.” Emily rolled her eyes. “You’re not gonna fuck this up, Emily, you’re gonna finish this and you’re gonna send all those bastards back to hell.” Emily didn’t answer. She looked at the clock. Ten more minutes.

“Come on, Sheep, come back!” Crowley called. “I want to get another taste!” Emily ignored him, and also ignored him all the other times he tried to call her over. She looked at the clock and stood up. She drew another dose from her arm and walked over to the demon. “You don’t really think it’s gonna work, do you?” he asked. “Where did you read that, issue six-six-six of Teen Vogue?” Emily looked at him for a second before shoving the syringe in his neck. He screamed.

“Well, obviously it’s working,” she hissed, walking away. She kept going for three hours. Every dose made her more and more lightheaded. Dean’s phone vibrated on the altar. He took the call outside the church. Emily sat on a bench and closed her eyes. They were getting heavier, all she wanted was to go to sleep. She opened her eyes again: she couldn’t pass out. She had to stay awake. Five minutes later, Dean walked back in, putting his jacket back on.

“Kid, we need to talk,” he said, like she couldn’t realize on her own that he was leaving. She listened to the silence of the church: the Impala was already running just outside of it. “Something happened, Sam-”

“Just go,” she whispered. Dean looked at her for a second. “Seriously, I will be fine, okay? I can carry through.” That was a stone cold lie. She could barely stay awake and it looked like Dean knew, based on his face. He looked at her.

“Are you sure?” he asked. But Emily knew he’d already made up his mind. Wouldn’t already have the car started if he hadn’t. She nodded. “You got this, kid,” was the last thing said to her. As he left the church, she couldn't help but think that at least she'd die with something of a good memory of him. She waited until it was time for the following dose, then walked back to Crowley.

“Wow, you look bad,” he said. She ignored him. The church shook like it was an earthquake. “Kinda feel bad for what's about to happen.” She looked at him. The floor board underneath her feet cracked, all the warding Sam and Dean had put in place breaking. “Did you really think you could kidnap me, the King of Hell, and no one was gonna notice?” Crowley asked. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.” The church door swung open, the boom echoing through and her ear ringing. A woman entered the church. “Abaddon?” Crowley asked, surprised. Emily frowned. “They told me you were dead.”

“So not,” said Abaddon. Dean told her the same thing. She's dead, don't worry about that. Kevin was her job, and Abaddon was Sam and Dean's, so she’d trusted him on that information. Should have known better. She slowly backed away from Crowley and to the altar. There was a gun there. One with engraved bullets. It was supposed to at least slow Crowley down. But a Knight of Hell? Would it even work? Emily had no choice but to try. She hit the table with her back.

“And the rest of the cavalry?” Crowley asked. Abaddon smirked.

“Oh no,” she said. “It's just old, unkillable me.” Emily extended a hand back to try and get the gun, but Abaddon flinged her hand and she flew across the room. For a second, she lost consciousness. Images were coming in fragments, and pain became unbearable. Through her blurry, fragmented sight, she could see Crowley getting punched, his chair tipping over. Emily tried to stand up but fell on her hands and knees. There was no way the last trial ended like that. If she had to die, she was gonna die closing the gates of hell, not knocked out by Abaddon. She grabbed onto a window ledge and pulled herself up. She had to think. Her brothers had left a lot of supplies, there had to be something. Something that would kill a demon, slow it down, or damage the person they were possessing enough to make them smoke out. Her eyes landed on a jar of holy oil. If holy water damaged them, would holy oil be more effective? Literally deep fry them? She had no better option or idea. She had to try it. She took the oil and slowly- very slowly, made her way towards Abaddon. Her body screamed for mercy, it begged her to stop, it craved death and peace. She stopped a few feet from Abaddon, exhausted. She couldn't get close enough to pour it on her, but who ever said anything about pouring it? She threw the jar across the room, it shattered next to Abaddon's feet, oil splashing up her legs. By the time the knight had turned, Emily already had a match lit. She threw it, too. The oil caught fire, Abaddon's legs burning. She looked at her for a moment before smoking out, the body she was possessing falling limp on the floor. It kept burning. As the smell of burned flesh pervaded the room, Emily walked around the fire and to Crowley. She pulled the chair back up on four feet, then walked back to the altar. She had to take a break. And something for the pain, or she couldn't keep going. Emily reached for the yellow prescription bottle and swallowed one of the pills. She grabbed the syringe and brought it to her arm, legs barely holding her anymore. She walked to Crowley, injected him, and walked back. As she did so, she looked down. All the traps were fucked up. She had to redo them. She wasn't even sure she could stand up for more than the next thirty seconds. She grabbed a spray can and lowered herself on the floor. She dragged herself through the grime that was on the floor, a mix of dirt, holy oil and other substances Emily didn't even wanna start thinking about, and filled the holes in the sygils. All twenty of them, dragging herself on the floor.

“What are you doing, Sheep?” Crowley asked. “And here I was thinking about being grateful to you.” Emily looked at him. Demons were not grateful. Demons didn't have good emotions. They thrived on anger and vengeance. “I was so proud of you until you started doing that.” The damn blood was working. Crowley was turning human or whatever “curing a demon” meant. It was working.

“Thanks, I guess?” Emily sighed. “But did you really think I was gonna let you go?” Crowley looked at her: he seemed seriously hurt.

“We- we just shared a near death experience, don't you- don't you feel closer to me?” Emily frowned, standing back up and walking to draw more blood for the next dose. “I’d say after all this, you should love me more than you love your brothers,” the demon continued. Emily put her hands on her waist. “Those two- Squirrel especially, they don't love you like they should, Sheep, and you know it.” Emily shook her head and drew blood from herself, a huge blue and purple bruise forming in her arm. Her face tingled. She was losing way too much blood. But it was supposed to be two more doses. And that was it. “You deserve better, Emily, okay? Because you deserve to be loved sometimes and- and I, too- I-” Emily grabbed Crowley’s hair and pulled his face away from her, shoving the syringe in. The demon screamed.

“Dude, shut up,” Emily sighed. “I already have a headache.” Emily looked back on the altar. There were no more syringes. She must have miscounted the doses. She was done. All she had to do was read the spell and spill some blood. She could handle that, right? Emily walked to the altar and took the sticky note on which the spell was noted. She looked at it and went to brush her eyes: she couldn't make out half of it. It looked a lot like Kevin's chicken scratch.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” that part she could make out. “Hanc animal- ani- animas?” Fuck. Let's start over.

Kevin ran towards the church. He probably had a couple of hours before Sam caught up with him. Sneaking out of the Bunker had been a hard task, Sam was really careful. But not careful enough, not when Kevin tricked him into checking out all the rooms trying to figure out how to fix the internet. Emily was standing in front of Crowley, looking like she was going to collapse any second. She was holding a sticky note in her hand, the same note he wrote for Dean that morning. She was looking at it, mumbling something under her breath, probably trying to understand what he'd written. He wasn't too late: he could still save her.

“Emily, stop!” he called and Emily almost fell to the floor. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“Seriously?!” Emily narrowed her eyes. “Hallucinations? Oh, come on!” she shook her head. “I'm already dying, give me a break!”

“Yeah, you are,” Kevin said, walking towards her. “And I'm trying to stop it, so-” Emily ignored him and turned away to grab a knife from the altar. He rushed towards her. “No, no no no, stop, wait!” he said, trying to hold her hands apart. Emily ignored him as she shoved him away. “I'm not-”

“Leave me alone!” yelled Emily. “I know I fucked it all up with him- No need to rub it in my fucking face while I fucking die!” Kevin took a step back. Jesus Christ, Emily.

“Emily, you have to listen to me,” he said. “I'm not dead and you didn't fuck it up, you-”

“He was supposed to be my responsibility, and he died because I was too weak to help him!” she yelled, looking closest at the sticky note. “No one else is dying! Nobody!” Emily took a deep breath. She started reading the exorcism again, but stopped a few words in. “Goddamnit!”

“Emily, I'm- I'm not dead!” Kevin said. “Crowley got me, but I'm here now, okay?” Emily shook her head and tried reading the exorcism again.

“Stop,” she said. “Am I not in enough pain already?!” She looked up and lost balance and Kevin helped her stay upright.

“I'm gonna get you out of here,” said Kevin. “Come on now,”

“No,” Emily pushed him away and fell forward on her knees. “Fuck- Leave me alone!” she yelled. Kevin helped Emily stand back up. He put his hands on her shoulders.

“Look at me,” he said. Emily dried her face and looked away, stubbornly trying to hide her tears. “You don't have to die for this, okay?” he said. “You can survive, and you can keep going, and you can, I don't know, keep watching all your stupid musicals,” A smile came through Emily's breath as she dried her face. “And we could be… what was it? Paranormal Ellen and Ernie,”

“You mean Elle and Emmet?” she whispered. “God, even if you're not real you're still a big fat idiot,”

“Let me get you to the hospital,” said Kevin. “Please,” Emily looked at him for a long moment where Kevin thought she was going to say yes, but then, she shoved his hands away.

“No, you- You're not real! And I have to do this!” She turned and gasped, scared. “Seriously?!” she yelled. Kevin looked around. There was nobody else. “You, too?”

“Emily,” Kevin called. But she didn't move.

“I don't want to go!” she yelled. “I-” She stopped talking and rolled her eyes. “Don't quote Heathers to me, okay?! Why does everybody always-” Emily stopped in her tracks and turned. She looked at Kevin, realising he wasn't a hallucination. But before she could say anything, she fell to the floor.

Seventeen (reprise)

from Heathers The Musical

“How did you guys know I was in trouble?” she asked, throwing her bag on the Bunker table. Dean stopped walking and turned to look at her. “What?”

“You- you don't remember?” he asked, taking off his jacket. Emily bit her hospital bracelet and tore it apart.

“Remember what? I was doing the last trial, I passed out, woke up in the hospital,” she said. Sam came down the stairs and into the library holding a cup of coffee. Dean looked at her, then at Sam.

“What’s going on?” he asked. Dean put his hands on his waist as Sam handed Emily the coffee.

“Seems like we’re having some trouble with the memory side of things,” Dean said. Sam frowned and looked behind him. Emily brought the cup to her lips.

“Sam, dude!” called Kevin’s voice. “Weren’t we supposed to go to the hospital?” Emily spat out the coffee back into the cup, hot liquid falling on her hand. “Why are we still-” Kevin walked into the room and stopped. His eyes widened in surprise looking at her. “Oh, that’s why,” he said. Emily put the cup down on the table and dried her hand on her overalls. It came back to her. Him showing up, her thinking he was a hallucination, and then a long, bumpy drive.

“Jesus Christ, you’re a horrible driver,” was the first thing she could say. Kevin laughed. “What the hell happened to you?!”

“Crowley tried to get me,” he said. “Got out, figured out where you were.”

“Do I need to change my passwords again?” Emily asked, putting her hands on her waist.

“Sorry,” Kevin shrugged. Sam walked past Emily and towards Dean, and muttered something about needing to go on a food run, despite Dean having just walked back into the Bunker. Emily rolled her eyes. “So,” Kevin said, looking at Sam and Dean disappear outside the door again. “I got nothing to do, you wanna grab a beer?”

Emily placed the last Christmas decoration in the Bunker and took a step back. Not bad for having stuck a bunch of one dollar decorations to the wall. At least it looked like it was actually almost Christmas. She bent down to check on the cookies, decided they were done, and turned off the oven.

“What are you making?” asked Kevin, walking inside the kitchen just as Emily was taking the tray out. “Oooh, cookies,” he said. “Can I have one?”

“They're hot,” Emily said. “I'd give it a couple of hours.” Kevin opened the fridge and poured himself some eggnog. “So, you done with the angel tablet for today?” He nodded. “If we hurry up we can finish the damn Harry Potter movies before the new year,” she said. Kevin opened a cabinet and took a pack of chocolate popcorn. She followed him to his room. Kevin closed the door behind them and turned on the TV. He struggled to work the DVD remote for a second as Emily flopped on his bed and opened the popcorns. The movie started and Kevin walked back to his bed. Since she'd come back to the Bunker they had been spending more and more time together and she was starting to realize that, for the first time since Emily had become a hunter, she didn't have to fake anything. She could be herself and she could tell him stuff about herself without risking it becoming a problem. Kevin knew who she was, he knew about her powers and about Hell. And yet, he treated her like a normal human being. But hanging out together most days didn't come without a price: there was also that other thing. Actually, several other things that had happened in the weeks following her return to the Bunker. It had started with a movie night. Nothing weird, nothing they hadn't done before, with the difference that in the Bunker there were actual beds, and what are you going to do, watch a movie while sitting on a chair when you have a bed? No, of course not. One of those nights, she fell asleep. The movie was just too bad to stay awake, and at some point she closed her eyes and opened them four hours later. Kevin was sleeping, too. Which wouldn't have been a problem if their arms and legs were tangled in ways Emily couldn't explain. How the hell does one hug another person while sleeping? And if at first she thought it might have just been a coincidence, that it just happened, she had to take that back with herself the following week. And then another time two weeks after that. And then it somehow became normal. Not that either her nor Kevin ever talked about it. It wasn't like they were waking up together in the morning: Emily would usually wake up first and sneak away to have breakfast. But Kevin knew what was happening, of course he did. She could see it in the increasing awkwardness every time a movie started. Not only did he know, he was planning his next move. Said next move landed that day, when Emily felt something touch her hand. She didn't look down, terrified that it might be exactly what she thought it was: Kevin's hand. Emily moved her hand away, pretending to reach for a handful of popcorn she really didn't want, but she still wanted them more than whatever Kevin was trying to do. She shoved the popcorn in her mouth and took a deep breath. That was what she was supposed to feel, right? She'd always been someone to work on a sex-only basis, so holding hands was not something she did. It wasn't something she wanted. So why did it actually sound… nice? When half an hour later she felt Kevin's hand touch hers again, she didn't move. It took all her willpower not to do so, because every muscle in her body was begging her to run to another fucking country and never see him again. But then, it started feeling kind of nice. Almost… safe? Emily let go of Kevin's hand and sat straighter in the bed. There was no space for feeling safe in her life. Feeling safe meant letting her guard down and hunters who did that usually ended up dead pretty quickly. When the movie ended, they started at the main menu screen for a few minutes before Kevin stood up and ejected the DVD. What the hell was she going to do? Leaning into it didn't feel right, but full on rejecting him didn't feel right, either, for some reason. She did like him, just probably not in the way he liked her: she could ignore that, get some sex out of him, and hope it didn't escalate into drama. Was that risk worth it for sex that was probably less than mediocre? Maybe not, but also, why would she have not minded if the sex sucked? That had never happened before.

“Are you listening to me?” asked Kevin, putting the DVD back in its pile. Emily looked at him, raised from her thoughts.

“What?” she asked, dragging her hands on her overalls to get rid of the popcorn crumbs.

“I asked if you want to watch the sixth one,” Kevin said, waving the Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince DVD at her.

“Actually,” Emily sighed. She was about to come up with an excuse. Refuse. Leave. Think it through. But then her mouth moved faster than she could control it. “You know what, sure, let's watch it.” Kevin pulled out another DVD from the pile, opened the cover and slid the disc into the player. She promised herself not to fall asleep, but still did. That movie was a travesty. She woke up at two in the morning when Kevin stood up to go turn off the TV. “Oh, God, sorry,” she grunted, one eye still closed. “I keep falling asleep during these.”

“It's fine,” Kevin said, glaring back at her. “I was going to sleep too.” Emily closed her eye and fell deeper into the mattress. A few minutes later, she felt Kevin's hand on hers. She just let it happen. Not a single thought went through her brain when they started holding hands, not even when she tried to find a more comfortable position and she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. She just kept falling in and out of sleep until at some point her body gave up and she fell asleep. She woke up at lunch time and panicked. That never happened. She'd been waking up at six for a decade, no exceptions, no special circumstances, her body just woke up at that time, even if that only meant two hours of sleep. How the hell did she sleep in so late? Kevin wasn't in the bed, so she stood up and walked to the kitchen. Sam was making lunch for himself.

“Well look who's finally awake,” he smirked. Emily looked at him and ignored him. “Never seen you wake up at this time, stayed up a little late?”

“We were watching a movie, stop doing that with your face,” she said, pointing at him.

“You know, we have a projector room with chairs and a big ass screen,” Sam said. “You don't need to be in anybody's bed to watch a movie.”

“I'm gonna ignore you,” Emily said, opening the fridge just to find it empty. “Dude, where's all the food?”

“Dean and Kevin went for a food run,” Sam said. “They should be back any minute now.” Emily looked at Sam for a moment, trying to process. “What?”

“Kevin is with Dean?” she asked. Sam nodded. “Jesus Christ,” she sighed.

“I bet he's trying to help you out at this very moment,” Sam said. Emily dragged a hand through her face and then reached for the coffee pot.

“Help me with what?” she asked. Sam sat down at the table and stabbed his salad with his fork.

“Come on, you know with what,” he answered. Emily crossed her arms. “Emily, you obviously like the guy!”

“I-” Emily scoffed. “I do not!”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked with a smirk. Emily took a sip of her coffee and turned on the kitchen hood. She lit up a cigarette, earning a look of disapproval from Sam. “I mean, he definitely likes you.”

“Okay, but I am not going to risk my life and his life for it, you know what I mean?” she said. “And also I just said I don't like him!”

“He doesn't seem to mind risking his life for you given all the stunts he's pulled the last year,” Sam said. Emily shook her head. “So is this what this is about? The old ‘hunters can't have a life’ thing?”

“It's about the fact I don't like him, okay? Get that through your head!” Sam looked behind him and sat straighter in his chair, clearing his voice. Goddamnit. Emily turned, saw Kevin, and took the split second decision to pretend he did not just hear what she'd said. “Hey,” she said, pulling out the most natural smile she could and taking a puff of her cigarette. “I was making coffee, you want some?”

“Uh,” Kevin hesitated and looked to his right. Dean walked past him and into the kitchen with a bag full of groceries. “No, I- I have to- uh-” He hesitated and looked at Dean. “Actually that sounds good, but I- I have to go back to the tablet, so…” Emily moved the cigarette under the hood and poured Kevin a cup of coffee with her free hand. She handed it to him. “Thanks,” Kevin tried to smile but his face didn’t comply. He took the coffee and disappeared outside the kitchen. Emily turned towards Sam and sighed. Her instincts went to telepathy, in knowing full well he knew exactly what she was feeling regardless of what she said: she knew she shouldn’t have cared. But something was eating away at her. Sam didn’t bat an eye. He didn’t scratch his neck, and that was when she realized. She might have been better, but her powers were not back. The trials purified her, and that meant no more demon blood. No more demon blood meant no more powers.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked. And Emily hated that he even had to ask. He’d never had to ask for the previous decade.

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I- I’m gonna go get myself some lunch.”

The day passed, and Kevin avoided her for the good part of it, but then knocked on her door. She opened the door with a joint lit between her fingers. He frowned for a second, then cleared his voice.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she answered, turning the joint off on the ashtray. “What’s going on?”

“Uh- nothing, I- I’m done with the tablet for the day, so I was wondering if you wanted to do something.” Emily sighed. “Or not, it’s fine.”

“No, of course-” Emily took a deep breath. “What did you have in mind?”

“I mean, Dean said we have a projector room, so maybe we can go there and see if there’s something interesting to watch,” Kevin said. Emily huffed.

“Dude, it’s- it’s videos of people getting exorcised or experimented on, they’re not movies,” she explained. Kevin crossed his arms. Oh for fucks’ sake, Emily. “But I guess we can hook my laptop up and use the projector to watch a movie.”

“Yeah, uh-” Kevin cleared his voice again. “Sure.”

Kevin never mentioned what she’d said that morning. Life kept running, more or less smoothly, a couple of cases came and went by and somehow Emily ended up spending way more nights in Kevin’s room than in her own. It had gotten so bad Sam and Dean never came knocking on her door anymore, they just knocked on Kevin’s because they knew she’d be there. And if they weren’t in his room, they were in the library. She had to admit, it had been a long time since she’d let someone get that close, but it was for a good reason. Reasons Emily could still remember, every single time she stepped out the Bunker for a case, but that she was, for reasons unknown even to her, choosing to ignore. She couldn’t explain it to herself, she didn’t have a word for it, and she knew it had been in the back of her head for a long time, but dying on the job somehow sounded better than never talking to Kevin again. As she thought that, lying awake in bed at five AM, a shiver went down her spine. She’d never told Sam or Dean about what happened in that room. Of the nights spent holding hands in silence, not finding the courage to say anything at all. She’d always lied straight to their faces, and always told them nothing was happening. And finally, after years of having Sam looking through her brain, she could lie and get away with it. But at the same time, Sam not knowing didn’t feel right: Sam always knew everything, even when she hated him, even when they were fighting, even when she didn’t want him to know, he still knew. And maybe somehow he still did, since exactly while she was debating with herself whether to tell him or not, he knocked on the door. She walked to the door and opened it.

“I was gonna go for a run,” he whispered. “Wanna come?” Emily nodded and closed the door behind her. She walked to her room and stripped out of her old t-shirt. “So…” Sam said, smirking. “Couldn’t help but notice you slept in his room, again.”

“Yeah,” Emily sighed. “But I know what you want to know and no, no sex is happening,” Sam frowned. “It would be kinda gross to do it with you next door.”

“That’s… not what I was thinking,” he said. “But come on, something has to be happening.” And there it was, the opening for her to finally confess. But how to explain it? She didn’t even have a word to describe what she was feeling, how could she explain it to someone else? Telepathy was so much easier with those things. She wouldn’t have had to know, it would have been enough for Sam to feel it to understand it.

“Well,” she sighed. “And I’m not saying I’m on board, but yeah, maybe.” Sam’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” Emily groaned, hopping past him while wearing one sneaker. “You’re way too happy about this, you know hunters are not supposed to have… stuff happening.”

“And what is ‘stuff’ exactly?” Sam asked, walking towards the stairs. Emily followed him.

“You’re not supposed to let people get too close, because they usually get killed,” she said. “And I’d like for Kevin not to get killed.”

“Yeah, okay, I get that, but I know you, there’s something you’re not telling me,” Sam opened the Bunker door and stepped outside. He started to stretch and Emily did the same.

“I’m gonna tell you, but please don’t tell Dean,” she sighed. “He’s gonna make a mess of this.”

“My lips are sealed, kid,” Sam said. Emily took a deep breath and grabbed her ankles to pull her chest towards her legs. She looked at Sam upside down, through her legs.

“We’ve been… holding hands,” she said, rolling her eyes. Sam frowned.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, dude, I told you nothing much was happening,” she complained, moving to stretch one leg. “And we haven’t talked about it, just like we haven’t talked about anything else.”

“So you… never talked about the fact he drove a hundred miles to save your life?” Sam asked. Emily shook her head. “Or how you yelled to his face that you didn’t like him and then proceeded to hold hands with him?” Emily shook her head again. “Wow, this thing’s gonna explode.”

“There’s no thing, so it can’t explode,” Emily said. Sam huffed, a small cloud of condensation appearing in front of him, and started jogging. Emily followed him.

“Don’t you think you and Kevin holding hands is a thing?” he asked.

“It’s not,” Emily said. “I mean, we know he likes me I- I just haven’t-” Her shoes crackled against the gravel as she jogged her way next to Sam. “I need to figure out what it is, okay?” Sam frowned and didn’t answer.

“So…” Sam said half a mile later. “You do have feelings for Kevin, do you admit it?”

“I don’t know what I have, dude,” Emily complained.

“I bet you do,”

“And I bet I can get to Starbucks faster than you and if I do you have to buy me coffee,” she said, jogging fast enough to get ahead of Sam and running backwards to look at him.

“Okay, but if you lose, we talk about this for real,” Sam said. Emily smirked.

“Oh, you’re so on, Sam Winchester.”

Emily and Sam walked back into the Bunker holding two very fancy coffees, paid for by Sam. Dean was right on time in complaining:

“Where the hell have you two been?” he asked, walking into the library. “And why are you out running?” He pointed to Emily. She rolled her eyes. “You just got vertical- don’t push it, okay?”

“Okay, dad,” she mocked. As Emily walked down the stairs, she noticed Kevin at the opposite end of the table, trying to read the angel tablet. She placed her coffee next to him. “Got you something,” she said. Sam looked at her and smirked. She crumpled a piece of paper from the table and threw it to him. Kevin looked at her, then at Sam, then at the coffee, confused.

“Thanks?” he said. “Why are we hitting Sam?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Emily answered. Kevin shrugged, crumpled another piece of paper and also threw it at Sam. He tried to hit them back, but they dodged. “Let me know if you want to have a break later, okay? I’ll go check on Crowley.” Emily took a step away, her hand going from one of Kevin's shoulders to the other. “You didn’t speak with him, did you?” she asked.

“Nope,” said Kevin, still looking at the tablet. “You said to stay away and I stayed away.”

Emily opened the doors to the dungeon. “Hello beautiful,” she joked. Crowley picked his head up and quickly regained his cocky expression. He’d been stuck in their dungeon ever since the third trial, and Emily had been trying to get information - any information out of him, with little to no results.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Winchester,” the demon said. “The one that dresses like she’s about to go pick strawberries.” He nodded towards her overalls.

“Are you sure that’s the insult you’re going with?” she asked, confused. “Not even going to call me names?”

“I could do it, but I don’t think there’s anything I can call you that Dean- or yourself- hasn’t called you already,” Crowley said with a smirk. Emily shook her head.

“I see you feel chatty,” she said. “What about some of the info we asked you for?”

“Nah,” Crowley said and shrugged. “Sorry, don’t feel like it.”

“Alright,” she said. “Keep playing tough. We both know that’s just a cover.”

“Or is it?” the demon said, smiling. Emily crossed her arms.

“What, already forgot? I was there when you were begging for some love,” she said. “You’re just a little man who needs a hug, and we both know that.”

“Why are you describing yourself?” Emily punched him.

“God, I love doing that,” she whispered to herself. Crowley smirked. “Something funny?”

“It’s just funny to see you trying to play the part now that the demon blood’s gone,” he said. “You’re changing, aren’t you?” Emily crossed her arms. “Experiencing new feelings, feeling more… human?” She looked at him, then walked out the dungeon, turned off the light and locked the door.

Emily woke up on Christmas morning. The DVD logo was bouncing around the screen. Emily reached for the remote and turned it off. She checked the time: five AM. Not a single sound through the Bunker, the outside of which was probably covered in snow. Emily dragged her hands across her face and sighed. She'd fallen asleep in Kevin's room, again. She sat up in bed and looked around. How did the movie end? She must have fallen asleep before she could see it. She stood up and walked out the room, where Sam was passing by with a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” he said, stopping in the middle of the hallway. “I didn't expect you to see up already.”

“Why?”

“I heard you and Kevin hang out until quite late,” Sam answered. Emily shrugged.

“I fell asleep before the movie ended, so…” Sam smirked. “Oh, come on… Can we like- not? You say you heard us, so you know nothing happened.” Dean appeared through a door.

“That's point, kid- why has nothing happened yet?” he asked. Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on- he's obviously into you! And you're obviously into him, so- what's the big deal?”

“Can we not?” she asked. “At least not on Christmas? Leave me be, okay?” Dean showed him his hands, surrendering, and Sam continued walking through the hallway. “Why are you up so early?”

“Got a case,” he said. Emily frowned.

“On Christmas?” she complained. “It couldn’t wait another day?”

“Nope,” Dean said. “I assume you will be okay hanging out with Kevin for a couple days? All alone?” Emily scoffed.

“Are you doing this on purpose? It’s Christmas, dude, why are you even taking a case?”

“Huge demon case down south,” Dean explained. “Time sensitive.”

“And why are you going without me?!” she asked. “You are doing this on purpose!”

“No, actually- I need you to work on finding Cas,” Dean said. “You and Kevin can be study buddie-” Emily hit the back of Dean’s head. “Ouch!”

“Will you stop?!” she yelled. She looked around, realizing she was gonna wake Kevin up. “What is your problem?!”

“Nothing, I just thought you’d rather be up here doing some research since you’re still getting back into shape!”

“I am in perfect shape,” Emily hissed. “You’re just playing cupid!” Dean crossed his arms and smirked. “Dean!”

“Okay, maybe I am, but come on, kid! I haven’t seen you have any fun in ages!” he said. “I’m doing this for you!” Emily rolled her eyes.

“You know what?” she sighed. “Do whatever you want, but I can guarantee you, nothing is going to happen. Like- ever!”

“Fine, have it your way,” Dean shrugged. “But if you need condoms I left a box in your room.”

“You-” Emily’s mouth stopped working for a second, trying to process what Dean was saying. She stopped trying to answer and just went to the kitchen.

She was sitting in the library trying to pick up a trail for Castiel. She‘d been staring at her computer for hours looking through camera footage to the point all faces looked the same. A phone started ringing. She reached for hers, dragging a hand through her eyes, but found that it wasn’t ringing: it was Kevin’s phone. He was sitting on the other side of the table, surrounded by notes on the angel tablet. He picked up the call and put it on speaker.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey boss, uh… we got a little problem here,” said Dean’s voice. Emily and Kevin exchanged a confused look.

“Boss?” Kevin’s voice echoed through the library as Emily sighed. Maybe it was one of Dean’s jokes. Or maybe it was an attempt at having something happen. Either way, she didn’t like the direction it was going.

“Yeah, just a local badge needs confirmation we’re supposed to be here,” said Dean. Okay, maybe not a joke. Maybe they needed Kevin to do what Bobby had done a hundred times: pretend to be their boss. And if that was the case, Dean had probably chosen the worst liar on the planet. “How the word came down from FBI headquarters in DC.” Kevin frowned.

“Wait, what?” he asked. Emily went back to looking through footage.

“Yeah,” Dean said. Kevin looked at Emily and reached for her laptop. He turned it towards him. She tried to complain but he gestured at her not to speak. He started typing.

“This is Sargent Miranda Bates, who am I talking to?” asked a feminine voice, replacing Dean’s on the phone.

“Uh-Kevin,” Kevin hesitated. Emily gestured at him to keep talking. “Kevin Solo.” Emily pinched her nose. They just finished rewatching Star Wars. Of course he had to go for the most unrealistic name ever. The feminine voice huffed.

“How old are you?” she asked. Kevin took a deep breath and sat straighter on the chair. Emily crossed her arms.

“Old enough,” he answered. “And I’m with the FBI, so you have to do what I say.” Emily felt her stomach tightening and her face get warm.

“Listen, kid, I don't have to do anything,” said the voice on the phone. Kevin kept typing on the laptop. “And I don't take orders from the Feebs, so unless you can give me one good reason you got a couple of pretty-boy agents poking around my crime scene, I'm gonna put them in cuffs and spank your ass raw, understand?” Kevin stopped typing and raised his eyebrows. He leaned back on his chair. That feeling, Emily could recognize.

“Cabo, last june,” Kevin said. The phone stayed silent for a moment before the woman answered.

“What?” she asked.

“That’s my reason,” explained Kevin. “My favorite is you in a sombrero doing a body shot off some naked guy in a Luchador mask.” he smirked. “Super classy.”

Emily took a deep breath and stood up. For the first time in a long time, she looked at Kevin and felt something that she recognized. That was sexual. That was sexual and she needed to walk away so it could stop.

“How did you find that?” asked the woman.

“'Cause I'm Kevin freaking Solo,” Kevin said. Emily stood up so fast she hit her knee on the table. She cursed under her breath, trying to walk away under Kevin’s confused eyes. He stopped for a moment to look at her, then continued. “So unless you want this forwarded to your commanding officer, Major Velasquez, I suggest you give my guys anything you want. Understand?” Okay, that’s my cue, Emily thought, making a run for the door. Fuck, she’d forgotten her cigarettes.

“Yes,” said the woman. Emily grabbed her cigarettes off the table.

“Yes, sir,” Kevin answered. Jesus fucking Christ. Emily rushed towards the stairs, but Kevin had already closed the call.

“Where are you going?” he asked. Emily froze. She turned.

“Uh-” she hesitated. “Cold shower.” Kevin frowned, confused. “You know, they- they say it’s good for your health-” She fumbled.

“The bathroom’s the other way,” he said. Emily looked at him, then at the Bunker door.

“Yeah, uh- cigarette, then- then shower,” she said. “And then…” What she said next, she didn’t know why she did say it. It came out of her mouth like someone else was controlling her body. Or maybe it was her body telling her Dean’s right, you haven’t had fun in a long time. “And then I think I’m gonna go out, you know- uh- hit the bar, maybe crash a party?” You should go and have fun. “Want to tag along?” Oh for fucks’s sake, Emily. She immediately regretted her words.

“Yeah-” Kevin smiled. “What’s a fake ID good for if we never use it, right?” Right, the bastard isn’t even old enough to drink. She nodded and continued her escape to the outside of the Bunker. She dialed Sam’s number. He answered right away.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked. Emily lit up her cigarette, hands shaking.

“Yeah,” she said, nervous. “I mean, I- I don’t know- something just happened.”

“What?” he asked, a hint of worry in his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Uh- Maybe- Maybe Dean’s right,” she said. Sam maintained a confused silence. “Maybe I do need to have fun.”

“I’m not following you,” Sam said.

“With Kevin,” she hissed, bringing the cigarette to her lips.

“Oh,” said Sam. “Wait- why? We just got off the phone with him, what’s going on?”

“That’s the problem,” she explained. “He did something- it’s doing a number on me.” She heard Sam chuckle. “It’s not funny!”

“What? You called me to ask for help with your crush?” he said, louder. Emily rolled her eyes as he heard Dean’s voice in the background.

“What’s going on Emily, I thought nothing was going to happen,” he said.

“Guys, Jesus-” she groaned. “Will you two stop making fun of me and help me?” asked Emily. “Please?”

“Dude, you have the house to yourselves, just go for it.” said Sam. Emily scoffed.

“No, Sam- I’m not-” she looked around and lowered her voice. “I’m not doing that!”

“Why not?” asked Dean.

“Because I don’t want to!” The phone stayed silent for a few seconds. “Okay, maybe I do but you know what I mean!” she complained.

“I can’t believe it,” Sam laughed. “You’re crushing so hard on the guy I can practically hear the tires screeching.”

“Shut up,” said Emily. “Please- what do I do? Like, for real! I’m not- We obviously want different things!”

“Well, there’s only one solution then, right?” said Sam. Emily remained silent for a second, waiting for an explanation. “Emily?”

“What’s the solution?” asked Emily, nervous.

“If you’re sure it’s not gonna work, just- keep things friendly,” said Sam. Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t complicate it.”

What the heck I gotta do

From 21 Chump Street

Don’t complicate things, don’t get too involved- it was too damn late. Emily had already invited Kevin out for the night and he didn’t exactly have a high alcohol tolerance, which made things unpredictable enough for Emily to be nervous. Kevin showed up in a white shirt, which wouldn’t have been funny if he hadn’t buttoned it all the way to the top.

“What the hell are you wearing?” she asked with a huff. Kevin looked at himself, confused. “Come here.” She gestured at him to come closer. Kevin took a step forward and Emily unceremoniously yanked the shirt out of his jeans before unbuttoning the first two buttons. “We’re going to get wasted, not to the opera,” she explained. Kevin didn’t say anything. He looked at her, their noses brushing against each other as she leaned over to open the first button of his shirt. “What?” she asked. Kevin shook his head. “Come on, spit it out.”

“No, really- nothing.” Emily adjusted her dress, which was riding up her thighs, then looked at Kevin as he looked away. “I know, I’m basically naked,” she sighed. “Trust me, I also wish I wasn't.”

“Wh- I haven't-”

“Please don't make it worse,” she begged, already walking away. She wasn't sure why she'd opted for the dress. She had never bothered dressing up for college parties. Not even her first party, when she lost her virginity, she was dressed up. But that dress had hung in the closet for so long she’d forgotten she had it, and that sounded like the right time. She had only one mission for the night: have fun with someone that wasn’t Kevin, get it out of her system, and then find a way to bring her and Kevin back on the just-friends side of things. She looked at him as he played with the buttons on his shirt. “I know what you need.” Emily smirked. Kevin frowned and visibly blushed. “We need to pregame this.” Kevin suddenly raised his eyebrows, more confused than before. “That’s right, we’ll have a drink before we go out,” she explained, walking towards the kitchen. “So when we get to the bar, we’re already tipsy.” Kevin started following her.

“Why would we do that?” he asked.

“We need to blend in,” she said. “Nobody’s gonna know who we are, but if we’re already drunk it will look like we’ve been there a while- which means we’re somebody’s friends.”

“Alright,” Kevin took a deep breath. “How tipsy are we talking about?”

“Just enough,” she explained. “And maybe…” Emily said, walking into the kitchen. “Maybe we can find you a nice college girl…” She poured some liquor in a glass and bit the inside of her cheek. “And you can have some fun and relax a little.” Kevin frowned.

“Why do you sound like Dean?” he asked. Emily huffed and handed him a drink. He took it and looked at it, silent.

“Trust me,” she said. “It never fails.”

“I don’t know, I’m- I’m not in the mood.” answered Kevin. Emily stopped pouring the second drink to look at him.

“Trust me, we find the right drink- you’ll be in the mood,” she said. Emily drank the gin she already poured and turned around to get the shot glasses Dean had decided to buy one random Tuesday morning and never used. She lined them up in front of Kevin.

“You said tipsy, right?” he asked, looking at the glasses.

“Don’t worry, we’re sharing these,” she said, opening up a bottle of whiskey. “Welcome to college, Kevin from Advanced Placement.” One by one, Emily and Kevin made their way through the shots. Emily felt fine, but Kevin was clearly already way beyond tipsy. Emily climbed up the stairs and when she turned around, Kevin was still at the bottom of them. “You good?”

“Oh, yeah-” he said, losing his balance to the right. Emily smiled and walked back down. “Maybe we should stay home,” he said, trying to look sober but failing so miserably it was almost painful to watch. Then, a question left Emily’s lips without her even thinking about it, that made her almost throw up everything she’d drank.

“And do what? We’re already drunk,” she said. Kevin smirked.

“I‘ll gladly do y-” Emily stopped him by pushing him up the stairs.

“Oookay-” she said, opening the door. “Let’s go get me drunk so I can forget what you just said.”

And so they went to the bar. And then another. And another. At one point- though Emily wasn’t too sure when and how- they agreed to go to a frat party. She taught a very- very drunk Kevin to play beer pong and then started playing as his wingman. She’d point out girls for him to hit on. And with every girl she saw him talk to, she made herself another drink. But it didn’t matter how drunk she was, she knew that was how it was supposed to be. Get some distance, that was the point. It couldn’t hurt for him to have fun, too. Emily could ignore all the signs that said he probably couldn't care less about all those girls, ignore her liver slowly eating itself every time Kevin talked to one of them. She could, right? She watched him almost score a senior, just to get shot down for a frat boy and then walk back towards her.

“You gave it your best shot,” said Emily, getting closer to Kevin’s ear to talk over the music. Having an excuse to get so close to him felt - and maybe it was the alcohol talking - way too good to stop there. “How you feeling, need some happy juice?” Kevin nodded. What the hell was she doing? She was way too drunk. She moved away from Kevin and passed him her cup and looked around. “Look,” she said. “Shortie, looks awkward-” She nodded in front of her where a girl that looked very out of place was standing. “I guarantee if you get her a drink and chat her up in a quieter room you’ll be under her shirt in no time!” Kevin straightened back up and finished the drink.

“Alright-” he yelled. “I’m gonna go get some!” He moonwalked into the crowd and disappeared. Emily’s smile vanished and she walked to get another drink. Walking around, she found the stoners huddled up in a corner and chatted one of them up enough to get invited to smoke. It wasn't hard, the dude was a developer. Probably never talked to a woman before. She just had to fake interest and touch his arm. With some drugs in the system, Emily was able to relax for exactly ten minuted before Kevin came back to look for her. He sat down and was about to grab the joint too, but she stopped him.

“Kevin- we’re trying to destress, not kill you!” she said, taking one last puff and handing the joint back to the developer guy. He probably had a name, but Emily hadn’t paid enough attention. “How did it go with the girl?”

“Got some over the shirt action- but she got uncomfortable real quick,” he said. “And I’m a gentleman.” Emily looked at him and huffed.

“Clearly,” she said, standing up. She should have stayed away. She knew. But the feeling of being that close to him- she wanted to feel it again. Maybe the weed had not been a good idea.

“I think I’m starting to have fun,” Kevin said. Emily smiled. “I think I’m going to go dance, do you want to come?”

“Why not,” said Emily with a shrug. Why not?! she thought. There’s at least a thousands reason not to! But still, she followed Kevin in the most crowded part of the house. Pop music was blasting through the speakers. She looked at Kevin's dance moves and chuckled.

“Dude, you-” She placed a hand on his shoulder and dangled her head between her shoulders. “What even are those moves?” Kevin's dancing slowed down almost to a halt, self consciousness dropping onto him. “Don't worry- nobody's looking at us.” she said, leaning closer to him.

“Actually-” Kevin's eyes quickly scanned the room. “Actually a lot of people are looking at us.”

“Ignore them,” said Emily. “They're not judging your dancing, they're looking at my ass.”

“Oh,” Kevin frowned. He kept looking around the room. Don’t look at them, for fuck’s sake, I’m right here.

“Happens,” she said, leaning closer. “Important thing is they just look.” Emily grabbed one of Kevin's hands and put it on her waist. He looked at her, a hint of panic in his eyes. “This is a party,” she said. “It can't look like a recon mission, can it?” She scanned the room with her eyes, but felt Kevin's eyes fixed on her. “So, I see a girl over there, she's alone,” she said. “Maybe you can go try your luck.” Kevin cleared his voice.

“Alright-” he said. “Juice me up.” Emily turned towards a table filled with red cups, poured some random liquid that looked like it contained alcohol in it and gave it to Kevin. He disappeared in the crowd again. She looked around. What the hell was she doing? She had to get him out of her head before she made an even bigger mess. Before she crossed a line she couldn’t uncross. She needed rebound sex to forget a sex that didn't happen. A sex that wasn't going to happen. Ever. Emily looked around. Kevin was right: she had a lot of eyes on her. She probably could have picked a random one. Her eyes scanned the room. Oh. She thought. That guy isn't looking at my ass. Maybe a challenge was what she needed. She took a step towards the guy and- Nope. That's Kevin. Emily sighed and turned the opposite way. Tall guy. Blonde. Saw him smoke weed earlier. Couldn't be more different than Kevin. Just what she needed. Maybe he was even going to be good and able to wipe her mind for half an hour or so. She danced towards him and it didn’t take long for the dude- Jason, maybe, she couldn’t hear the name over the music- to be all up in her personal space. There was a kiss. Then another. And then it was an unprompted hand on her boob. To which Emily answered with a hand inside his jeans. She moved away to propose moving to a more private area, but Jason got dragged away by something. Or rather, someone. It took Emily a little too long to figure out what was happening and by then, Jason was already falling on a table full of booze. Fuck. Emily rushed to stop Kevin, which wasn't hard given the amount of alcohol involved, and dragged him away. She walked out of the house and dragged Kevin from an arm to the closest street. He was still yelling intelligible stuff at the guy, trying to get away from her, getting the attention of every single person who happened to be in downtown Lebanon that night.

“Will you stop?!” she asked, dragging Kevin closer to her. He frowned.

“What-” said Kevin. “Oh, wait- you- you're mad.” Emily rolled her eyes and continued walking, her heels clicking on the ground and making everyone in the street turn towards them, while she still had Kevin's wrist firmly in her hand. “Emily-” Kevin called her name but she didn't turn. “Emily, I can walk!” Emily let go of his arm without looking. As long as she saw his shadow behind him, she continued walking towards the Bunker. It took Kevin a couple of minutes to talk again. “Okay, I- I am getting the- uhm- punching the guy was not… a good- I shouldn't have done it?”

“Big time you shouldn't have!” She stopped and turned. Kevin lost his balance trying to stop as well. Emily grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him back straight. “Because first, I can take care of myself. And second, you- you- You just don't, okay? What if the police got involved or, I don't know- someone recognized us?!” she yelled. “Dude, I- I'm legally dead and you're supposed to be a missing person!”

“I was just trying to help!” Kevin said. Emily took a couple more steps, then stopped. She turned. “I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to-”

“To what?” asked Emily. Kevin looked at her and she immediately regretted the question. “You know what? Don't answer that.” She started walking again. Kevin followed her but remained a few steps behind. Once in a while, Emily turned to see if he was still there, and he was a few more steps behind.

“Emily…” he called. She hummed. “I can't keep up.”

“I’m drunk, high and wearing heels. You can keep up,” she said. She continued walking, but slowed down her pace.

“Emily?” called Kevin again. Emily turned without stopping. “Can I tell you why I punched the guy?” Fuck, fuck, no, no, no- Emily stopped walking and Kevin stumbled into her. He bounced back and took a moment to get his balance.

“You’re drunk Kevin, don’t do stuff your sober self would regret,” Emily said. Kevin looked at her, confused, and frowned. Not walking anymore, Emily started to get cold. She’d left her jacket at the party and she was wearing a dress. On Christmas. She wrapped herself in her arms.

“Are you cold?” asked Kevin. He looked at his hands. “Am I cold?” He put his hands on Emily's cheeks. She huffed.

“Yeah. Kinda,” Everything happened way too fast for Emily to process. She saw Kevin suddenly move forward- like he was about to kiss her, but then he slipped and fell to the floor. Emily looked at him with a sigh as he stood back up. “What the hell's going on with you?” she asked.

“I'm drunk,” Kevin said, dragging his hands on his shirt to wipe away some dirty snow.

“I can see that,” she sighed. “But you've been weird ever since I asked you to go out.”

“What?” Kevin asked, starting to walk again. “No- You've been weird. You said that- that shower thing.”

“It wasn't a weird thing, I really was going to take a cold shower.”

“Yeah, right,” Kevin rolled his eyes.

“What are you trying to say?” Emily closed her eyes and then interrupted Kevin, who was about to answer. “You know what? Don't-”

“Don't answer that, yeah you said that already.” Kevin sighed. “Look, can we just go back home?” Emily rolled her eyes and approached the Bunker door. “Going out with you was such a bad idea.” The moment she stopped in front of the door to look for the key, she felt Kevin approach her.

“I don't get it,” she complained. “I was your wingman, I told you what to do to get under girls' shirts, Jesus, I- I made you damned drinks to bring them! And you…” Emily released a nervous chuckle, looking in her purse for the key. “You're unbelievable! Un-fucking-believable!” Emily entered the bunker and took off her shoes. She threw them over the handrail and they landed on the floor with a loud thud. Emily rushed down the stairs, naked feet burning against the cold metal steps. Kevin followed her. “Just when I thought maybe we-” Emily bit the inside of her cheek. “Nevermind,” she said. She reached her shoes and picked them up.

“Why are you so mad? I made a mistake, it happens! I thought I-”

“That's not the problem, Kevin! Even if he was being a dick, you don't need to defend me! I can take care of myself!” Don't say it, don't say it- “You are not my boyfriend!” Fuck. Kevin looked at her. He frowned and visibly bit the inside of his cheek. Yeah, fuck. Not my best. Kevin scoffed.

“I guess not wanting a random guy to fucking grope you is strictly for boyfriends, regular friends can't help with that, can they?” He unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt. “But then again, we're not just friends, are we?” Emily ignored his last remark and chose to focus on the first one,

“He wasn't being a dick, Kevin! I literally had a hand down his pants and you know it!”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

“I'm calling you a coward!”

“I'm the coward?” said Kevin. “Are you sure?” The sound of a door closing in the bunker echoed through the halls. “Because if you are, you have a pretty fucked vision of how friends behave!”

“Kevin, now it's not the time-”

“No, it is the time! Because you're right. I'm not your boyfriend, so why would we do any of the things we do?”

“That is not-”

“What?!” He said. “That’s not what you meant? Guess what-”

“JESUS CHRIST, KEVIN, STOP GOING AROUND IT AND JUST TELL ME WHY YOU DID IT!”

“Because I'm in love with you!” He yelled. His voice broke. The lights in the Bunker turned on for a moment and then everything went back in the dark, the red emergency light turning on. “Happy? Is that the romantic confession you wanted?!” Emily threw her hands in the air and turned around. “I hope you're satisfied-”

“Go away,” said Emily. Kevin didn't move. “I FUCKING SAID GO AWAY!” Emily listened to the sound of Kevin's sneakers get fainter and his door slamming close and sat on the last step of the stairs. A few minutes later, Dean appeared in the war room holding two beers.

“Ah, fuck, you guys are back already?” Emily sat on the stairs and covered her face with her hands. Dean chuckled. “Shut up.”

“Sorry,” said Dean with a grimace. “But it was kinda hard not to overhear,” Dean smiled and sat next to Emily on the stairs.

“I was trying to have rebound sex. I was trying to, you know- get him out of my head. And he punched the guy,” said Emily. “Jesus, I made everything so much worse.”

“You think he's going to remember it tomorrow?”

“God, I hope not,” she sighed, leaning back on the steps.

“Question,” Dean opened one beer and gave it to her. “Why did you, you know- tell him off? I was kinda expecting to hear sex noises after he said-”

“Dean…” Emily rolled her eyes and released a nervous chuckle. “I don't know. I guess I didn't see it coming. Not like this. And… well I guess I'm not- I'm not sure-”

“You're a terrible liar,” Dean said. “You're just scared.”

“I don't know, man…” Emily sighed. “This thing is… it's out of control. We were supposed to save the world. I was supposed to die. He was supposed to go back to Michigan. None of this… cuddling at night and confessing feelings while fighting thing was supposed to happen.”

“Dude,” said Dean. “The guy you have a massive, ridiculous crush on just confessed his love to you! Cheer up,” he sighed. “Could be a lot worse.” Emily looked down at her beer.

“Jesus, he was right…” she sighed. “I hate it when he's right.” Dean looked at her and smirked. “I need to go talk to him, don't I?”

“Not now, kid,” Dean said. “You're drunk. He's drunk. Go sleep it off.”

“And then what?” Emily asked. “Sam told me this was going to blow up, I-”

“Emily, relax,” Dean said. “I'm sure one of you is going to figure it out.”

Kevin avoided her for the following week. He wouldn't talk to her, and if they met in the hallways, he wouldn't even look at her. Emily tried to bring herself to go knock on his door, maybe talk about what happened, figure things out… but she couldn't. Maybe, she thought, it was better that way. A confession gone wrong was the best way to stop the relationship from going forward. That was what she wanted, right? Go back to the friend side. And maybe they'd gone a little less than that, but it was still… good? Who the fuck was she kidding? Emily couldn’t keep Kevin out of her mind. He was all she could think about. Which made everything else harder. Working jobs was near to impossible, her mind wandering off to that party every ten minutes, even while she was a wrong step away from injury, which was why she’d just stopped going. She wasn’t gonna get killed over Kevin. The Bunker was quiet, way too quiet, Emily could hear the faint humming of the computer running the whole place. It was so quiet, in fact, she was afraid of making a sound. With everybody else gone, it didn’t feel like a home anymore, it just felt lonely. And creepy. Because Kevin was somewhere in the Bunker, refusing to speak to her, making a sound felt like she would make him mad and start another argument. Which she didn’t want to. What she wanted was to have everything back as it was, which of course couldn’t happen. But then the complete silence was broken by a scream. Crowley’s scream. Emily rolled her eyes. He’d tried that on her before. Pretend something is wrong to lure her in, then try to psych her up to do something stupid. A second scream followed, and it sounded a little too real to be the usual shenanigans.

When she saw the dungeon door open from a distance she started walking faster, alarmed. She went through the door and it took a second to realize what was happening. It was Kevin, torturing Crowley. Wait, what? Kevin, Crowley, hammer to his face. She stopped Kevin's arm halfway to the demon's face. Kevin turned, surprised for just long enough to notice before going back to his ‘I don't care about you’ face.

“What are you doing?!” she yelled, getting the hammer from his hand. “What part of leave Crowley alone was hard to understand for you?” Kevin tried to fight back, but Emily managed to block him. Compared to the time she had to do it in the boat, it was a lot harder. Probably something to do with the fact he wasn't starved and sleep deprived anymore.

“Aw,” said Crowley, a hint of sarcasm. “What a nice coup-” Emily kicked his chair, tipping it back and making him fall to the ground. She dragged Kevin outside the dungeon.

“What the hell are you doing down here?!” she asked. Kevin shoved his arm away from her and crossed his arms.

“None of your business!” he complained. Emily looked back at Crowley, who was yelling, asking for help, and then looked back at Kevin. “Lea-”

“I don't know what he told you, but he's lying,” Emily said. “He's a demon, demons lie, I thought you knew that!” Kevin rolled his eyes and looked away. “What exactly was the plan, uh? Take it out on him, then what? He dies, I’m screwed!”

“I wasn't going to kill him!” Kevin yelled. “I just-”

“Yeah, because you have a long, extensive track record, right?!” Emily yelled. “You definitely know when to stop not to kill him, because you've done this so many times!”

“Hey, I'm not an idiot!” Kevin answered. Emily raised her eyebrows.

“That is at least debatable!” Emily scoffed. Kevin rolled his eyes and walked away. She looked at him as he climbed up the stairs and sighed. Even Crowley had gone quiet. “I get it, okay? You're angry and you wanted to do something about it, but-”

“Oh you get it, uh?” Kevin turned back towards her. “What exactly is it that you get?” Emily crossed her arms. “You don't know what I feel like- you- you are cold and- and firm in the face of adversity, all you do is complain and…” Kevin trailed off. Emily looked at him. She could have answered. She could have talked about all the bad shit that had happened to her in her life, and how acting like she didn't feel any of it was the only way to make sure he was safe. She could have said the truth, but then she heard Crowley's voice.

“Just kiss already!” he yelled from inside the dungeon.

“Shut up!” she heard Kevin's voice echo hers and closed her eyes. She couldn't say any of it. “I'm not going to let you mess up my plan out of spite, Kevin,” she said. “And when I tell you I get it you can believe me or not, I don't care, but you do not come down here.” Kevin rolled his eyes again.

“Of course you don't care,” he whispered, walking away. She waited until she heard his door slam close across the Bunker, then pulled Crowley's chair back up.

“Get over yourself, Sheep,” he said, squeezing his eyes. “Playing Dean Winchester doesn't suit you well.” Emily looked at him but didn't answer. She locked the dungeon and left. When she walked past Kevin's room, he was crying. Emily stopped. Maybe Crowley was right: maybe she really was just trying to be Dean, when she should have been like Sam. And what would he have done? Emily took a deep breath and knocked.

“Kevin?” she called.

“Go away!” something hit the door from the inside. Emily took another deep breath. She could do it. She could stay calm, right? She just had to be the mature one and say the right thing. Sam always knew what the right thing was.

“Come on, can we talk?” she asked, trying her best to sound friendly but only managing to sound like a bad imitation of Barbie. She cleared her voice.

“I said go away!” Kevin yelled from inside. Okay, experiment failed. Fuck this shit.

“Open the fucking door, Kevin,” she said, knocking harder. She knew exactly what to do. The same thing Dean had done that time she got lost in the forest after running from a nest. It didn't matter if they’d been fighting for a year straight, he still came to look for her and covered her ass with John. “I don't give a shit if you're mad at me, okay? Open the damned door and let me help!” A few seconds later, the lock clicked open. Kevin looked at her, eyes red and face wet.

“I don’t need your help,” he said, throwing the anti possession necklace she'd given him two years prior at her. “And I surely don't need you.” The door slammed close again, and Emily stared at it for a second. Her eyes filled with tears, but she dried them and walked away. She ruined everything.

The next day Sam and Dean came back home. She heard them pull into the garage, walk in complaining of sitting in the car for too long, backs that hurt and going right to sleep. Then, she heard Dean call her name. She didn't answer, so he knocked on Kevin's door. Emily closed her eyes.

“Not here!” she heard Kevin yell through the door. A few seconds later, Dean's shadow appeared behind the door. He knocked and opened the door.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“Did it sound like it was okay?” she asked, standing up from the bed.

“What the hell happened?” he asked. Emily sighed and looked away. “Oh, come on, what did you do?”

“I didn't-” Emily hesitated and groaned. “We fought again, okay?”

“Wow,” Dean huffed. “I didn't even know you had it in ya.”

“What? The power of fucking shit up?” Emily crossed her arms. Kevin's door opened and closed and she heard steps go through the hallway. Dean smirked. “Stop smiling! This isn't fun!”

“It's not fun because you don't want to make it fun,” said Dean. Emily scoffed. “If you wanted to, you could have gotten all the way with him at that party. But you didn't.”

“Dean, this-” Emily sighed and walked past him. “This isn't about sex! Why does it always have to be about sex with you?!” Dean's smirk vanished. “If I just wanted sex, I could have gotten it like- two years ago! This is not-” She clenched her fists, frustrated, digging her nails into her palms. “Fuck! This isn't supposed to be this complicated!” Emily walked out of her room and marched towards the kitchen, past Sam who was carrying his bag to his room.

“What’s going on?” he asked, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

“Shut up!” she yelled, one hand on the kitchen door. “Everyone needs to shut the fuck up about me and Kevin, okay?”

“Emily-”

“Yeah, I fucked up- I don't want to hear it! I already know-” Sam tried to stop her one more time.

“Don’t-” Emily opened the door and someone bumped into her, spilling hot tea on her arm.

“Shit-” she took a step back, shaking her arm and looked at the person holding the cup of tea. Kevin. “Of course,” she whispered. Kevin tried to formulate an apology, but Emily didn't let him make any sound. “Oh, spare me, advanced placement!” Kevin shook his head. “Don't look at me like that!”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” said Kevin, walking out of the kitchen, “would you like me to burn my eyes out so I don't look at you at all?” Emily's blood burned with frustration. She dug her nails into her palms one more time, begging herself to not react any further, not to explode.

“Shut up,” she said. Kevin rolled his eyes and walked away. “don't worry about the arm by the way, it's not like I burned myself or anything!” Kevin stopped walking. Sam dragged his hand through his face.

“Kid, maybe you should-”

“You know what?” said Kevin, turning back towards Emily. She crossed her arms. “Fuck you! Has it ever occurred to you maybe you're not the one who has it worst in this situation? Just… for a fucking second?”

“I'm sorry, would that be you? Little miss broken heart? Are you seriously-”

“God-” Kevin looked away. “You're infuriating, I swear to God- there's other stuff going on other than your fucking power trips over a night gone wrong!”

“Is that your big takeaway? Just a night gone wrong?!”

“You got a better description?”

“For the night out or for the part where you started a drunk fight for no reason?”

“I don't know, you tell me, you're the one who always acts like she has all the answers!” said Kevin. Emily scoffed.

“Jesus Christ, why- why am I even i-” Woah there. She stopped herself. I know the ‘l’ word didn’t just almost come out of your mouth. Kevin frowned. “Why am I even listening to you?!” The pause and the last phrase Emily said seemed to snap something in Kevin. He looked at her for a long second and clenched his fingers around the cup and then sent it flying across the hall. It shattered on the wall, a few feet away from Emily, leaving a trail of hot tea on the floor.

“Fuck you,” said Kevin before walking to his room. The door slammed and Emily felt Sam and Dean's eyes on her. She closed her eyes and leaned on the door frame. She really needed to learn how to shut the fuck up. There was no way around it. Emily walked through the library and up the stairs. She took a cigarette out of her overalls and lit it up.

Dean heard the bunker door slam echo through the entire hallway. He looked at Sam.

“Do you know what the hell’s going on?” he asked him. Sam shrugged.

“I got nothing,” he said. Dean took a deep breath. Faint music started to come out of Kevin’s room. He looked at Sam as he chuckled and looked away. Dean put his hands on his waist. “What do you think?”

“Beats me, Sammy. You’re her BFF or whatever,” Dean complained, walking towards the library. Sam followed him.

“Dude,” said Sam. “She’s barely speaking to me after you came back from purgatory. If you don’t know, we’re fucked.” Dean looked at the stairs that brought outside. He had a feeling. Maybe he did know what was going on. It was something she’d said earlier. Emily had never reacted like that when talking about sex, which only left him with an explanation. It really was different, she wasn't lying. He looked at Sam: he seemed clueless. Losing telepathy really meant he had no idea about anything Emily related anymore, and if he didn't, nobody did, so Dean had to go on instincts alone and hope said instincts didn't get him punched. He grabbed Emily’s jacket from a chair and made his way outside the Bunker.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing out here?” she asked as soon as he opened the door, crossing her legs on the wall she was sitting on. She already had gone through half a cigarette. “It's cold.”

“I brought you a jacket,” said Dean, sitting next to her with his hands in his pocket. It really was cold. “So, want to tell me what the hell's going on with you?”

“I don't know,” Emily said in a whisper. She looked at the floor and some condensation came out of her mouth. Or maybe it was cigarette smoke. “Honestly, this- this is new, I- I-” Dean frowned. He’d definitely seen his sister have feelings for someone. It couldn’t really be that different, right?

“New?” he asked. “This isn't new, kid. What about Ramiel? And Daniel, that guy you used to live with back when-”

“It’s not the same damn thing, okay?” Emily snapped, standing up from the wall. Dean’s head tilted backwards ever so slightly, starting to put the pieces together.

“How?” he asked.

“I don’t know!” Emily repeated, nervous. “This is not just me… wanting to have sex with someone! It’s- it’s different!” Dean looked at Emily as she nervously dried her face and released a frustrated grunt. It wasn't the first time she saw her nervous or angry, in fact that was how she'd seen her most of the time ever since he met her, but that time it felt different. It felt normal. Like something every little girl was supposed to go through, only she wasn't a little girl, she was an adult. And that was the weird part. Somewhere along her life, she must have had the chance to experience something that wasn't just sex. Once, maybe as a kid. Unless it really was the demon blood. That would explain it.

“Emily,” he said. She turned towards him and sniffled. “You’re in-”

“I swear to god, Dean-” she sighed, sitting back on wall. “I don't know, okay? And I thought- I thought I knew but apparently that-” she stuttered on her words and brushed her eyes with her hands. “Apparently that has a whole other-” Dean grabbed Emily's jacket and took the cigarettes out of the pocket. He held his hand out to Emily. He put the cigarette into his mouth as Emily handed him a lighter. As she did it, she looked up. “What are you doing?” Dean didn't answer and lit up his cigarette. “You smoke?” she frowned. Dean shook his head. Emily dried her face and Dean put the jacket on top of her shoulders. He wasn't gonna tell her about his demon blood theory. Emily didn't need something else to think about, she didn't need to be scared she was going to change or that she wasn't gonna be tough enough for the job anymore. At that very moment, it was time for Emily to be normal for a few minutes. She deserved that much.

“Tell me about it,” said Dean. “This thing you're feeling, describe it to me,” Emily nervously moved some snow with her shoes and sighed.

“It's like…” she closed her eyes for a moment, almost like if she was imagining something, “You know when you've been working on a case, and you manage to save everyone? That feeling in- in your stomach when no one is hurt, the bad guy is gone and- and you saved everyone?” she explained. “You know that feeling?” Dean smiled.

“Yeah, I do,” he said. “I miss that feeling.” Emily took a deep breath.

“How did I go almost twenty one years without feeling like this?” she asked. Dean shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like I'm going to go crazy,”

“Why?”

“Because I can't- I can't have the farm,” she explained. Dean frowned. “The farm and the- the cats and the potato plants growing in the back of my house and- and-” Emily releases a groan of frustration. “It used to be just hunting, you know? But somewhere along the line… I stopped caring about that.”

“Kid, I’m pretty sure that's the point,” said Dean. “That's how you're supposed to feel.”

Why stay?/A promise

From Next To Normal

“Any news on Cas?” Emily asked, sitting in front of Sam with her breakfast. Sam turned his laptop.

“Last time we heard from him he was in Longmont, Colorado…” he explained. “Here is how far he could have gotten, green is one day, yellow is two days, red is thr-” he stopped talking, looking at her. She looked up from her pancakes, confused. “Did you go for a run without me?” he asked. Emily frowned.

“Yeah,” she said. “Why?”

“I don’t know, maybe- You’ve been getting back at it pretty fast, you know, with all the training and the- well, there was that party.”

“I little alcohol is not going to kill me,” Emily huffed, standing back up to get coffee. “And a run isn’t either, okay? I’m fine.” Sam looked at her, letting concern slip on his face for just a moment, but then went back to the laptop. “So, Cas?” she asked.

“Well,” Sam looked at her for a moment before turning the computer back towards him. “We- we’re following possible angel cases, there was one here, in Iowa. But Dean found another case, so I’m not sure-” Dean walked into the room with his hunting bag.

“You up for some action?” he asked, looking at Emily. She frowned. “You’ve been ‘getting back into shape’ or whatever for a while now, I say you just come on a case.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “I mean, she just-” Sam’s mouth closed and he glared at Emily, alarmed. She turned. Kevin walked past her, grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee.

“Hey,” Emily said. Kevin didn’t look at her, just took his cup and left the kitchen. She sighed.

“Ouch,” Dean said. “Has he still not said a word to you?”

“Nope,” Emily stood up and leaned on the sink. “Doesn’t even acknowledge I exist.”

“Why don't you talk to him?” asked Sam. “Clear stuff out, you know.”

“Yeah, because all the times I tried talking things out with him over the past year worked… great, right?” she sighed. Dean put his hands on his waist. “You were saying?” she asked. “You have a case?”

“A buddy called me, he needs some help, so I say you go follow up in Iowa and we go up to Michigan,” Dean said. Sam hesitated. “Worst case scenario you give us a call, we make a run for it.”

“I don’t know, maybe- maybe we should stick together,” Sam said, leaning back in the chair. “I mean, it’s your first hunt in a while…” he pointed at Emily.

“Sam, I’m fine, okay? I’m not rusty, I can handle this,” she complained. Sam nodded.

“I just want to make sure-”

“Dude, when you were my age you iced Azazel, I think I’m gonna be fine with some…” Emily turned towards Dean, realizing she didn’t know what the case was about.

“I’m thinking vengeful spirit,” he said. Emily nodded.

“Come on, Sam, it’s a ghost, I’ve been dealing with them since I was thirteen, I think I’ll survive,” Emily said. Sam sighed.

“Okay, I mean- If you think it’s-”

“What’s up with the mama-bearing, dude?” she asked, lighting up a cigarette under the kitchen hood.

“No, you’re right,” Sam said. “You should go, I will- I will go to Iowa and look for Cas.” Emily smiled and walked out the kitchen, through the hallway and up the stairs. She finished her cigarette outside, then went to pack her bag. She walked to the garage, where Dean was already waiting for her, threw her stuff in the back seat and sat down next to Dean. He handed her a paper bag.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Kevin made us- well, you, lunch for the road.” he answered. Emily frowned.

“What?” she asked, confused. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I saw him right before I walked into the garage.” Emily opened the paper bag and saw two sandwiches inside. She sighed. “I mean, it’s better than ignoring you, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Emily said. “He could have at least given it to me.”

“I’m sure he would love to give it to you,” Dean said. Emily frowned for a second, then realized and looked at him. He pumped his eyebrows twice and started the car.

“Dude, that’s disgusting,” she said. “Do you ever think about something not sex-related?” Dean huffed and pulled out of the garage.

“Actually, I’m thinking about our case right now,” he said. “The guy who called me, his name is Sonny, he runs a boys’ home.”

“A… a reform school?” she asked, frowning. “How the hell do you know this guy?”

“So, uh-” Dean hesitated. “Dad sent me there.” Emily kicked away her shoes. “I got busted trying to steal.”

“Oh,” Emily said. “Was it… bad?”

“I mean, it wasn’t fun,” Dean answered. “But Sonny’s a good guy, he looked after me.”

“Okay,” Emily said. “And you said it’s a ghost?” Dean nodded. He didn’t say anything for a few miles.

“Look, there’s something I need you to know,” he said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Sam… he doesn’t know, okay? Dad never wanted to tell him, so he thinks I got lost on a hunt.” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“Why didn’t he tell him?” she asked. “It sounds like a good boogeyman to keep Sam good and obeying.” Dean sighed.

“I don’t know, kid,” he said. “Dad did a lot of things I don’t understand.” He looked at her and sighed. Emily looked away and touched her wrist. That was when she realized. How long had it been since she’d hurt herself? The freshest scar was the one from the ward, and it had been around a year. She’d been so focused on everything else she didn’t even realize that she’d somehow quit. It wasn’t out of being too busy, that had never been a problem before. She remembered feeling it creep up on her sometime while she was in the church, preparing for the first trial, but that was it. Everything pointed to the demon blood being the cause of her problems. If they really purified her, it made sense that the urge started fading after the trials started. “Are you okay?” Dean asked. Emily let go of her wrist and smiled.

“Yeah, I- I’m fine,” she said. “More than fine.”

The car ride went by, and Dean parked in front of a bungalow. Emily grabbed her stuff and walked towards it. There was a sign posted next to the entrance. She stopped to read it and Dean stopped too. She heard him whisper something. The sign read ‘Cedar Ridge Wilderness Program’. Emily stopped. The name sounded familiar. She looked at Emily.

“This isn’t a boys’ house,” she said. Dean crossed his arms. “I know what this place is, Dean, a guy I knew from school was sent here.”

“Goddamnit,” he hissed, looking away. “Look, I-”

“Dad sent you to conversion therapy?” she asked. Dean nodded.

“He… he wanted to send you, too,” he said. “I talked him out of it and he sent you to Bobby’s instead.” Emily blinked, one hand halfway through her cigarettes, and looked at Dean for a second.

“I… I didn’t know,” Emily said. “Thanks.” The door opened before Dean could answer. He saw the woman walk outside and straightened up. He fixed his jacket.

“Can I help you guys?” she asked. Emily looked at Dean, then took a step forward.

“Yeah, we- we’re looking for Sonny,” she said.

“Prison buddies?” the woman asked. Emily raised her eyebrows.

“No,” she explained. “Can- Can you just tell him Dean is here?” The woman gave a cold nod and disappeared inside the bungalow.

“Okay, let’s get it out of the way,” Emily said, leaning closer to Dean. “How much do we hate these people?”

“Sonny’s a good guy,” he said. “I think he was dragged into this by his mom.” He pointed towards the door. “She’s the bad one.”

“So what does Sonny do here, exactly?” Emily asked.

“Makes sure everyone behaves so they don’t have to see her,” he said. “Trust me, he’s good.” The door opened again. A man came out. Dean smiled and went to hug him.

“Good to see you Sonny,” he said. Emily smiled and decided Dean’s judgement was enough for her. If he said he was a good guy, then he was a good guy. “So, uh- this is my sister, Emily,” Dean said, pointing to her. Emily extended her hand out to greet Sonny. He frowned, but still shook her hand.

“Sister?” he said. “I didn’t know you had a sister.” Dean looked at Emily and huffed.

“Yeah well, I didn’t either last time I saw you,” he explained. “So, how are things around here? You still fighting the fight?”

“Someone has to,” Sonny said, walking inside the bungalow. “Ruth’s old, she’s gonna retire one of these days.”

“You’re doing good work, Sonny,” Dean said. Sonny handed Emily a beer. “But we didn’t come here to chat, did we?” He opened a beer for himself and sat down at a long table. “What’s up, Sonny?”

“Right,” Sonny sat down too, leaving only Emily standing. “So, a few days back a tractor turned itself on and ran over my neighbor.” Dean nodded and looked at Emily. “But that’s not the only thing.”

“Okay, I’m listening,” Dean said. Sonny looked at Emily and smiled.

“You know you can sit down, right?” he asked. Emily looked at him, then at Dean, and pulled a chair out from under the table. She knew she could sit, but walking in there, realizing the extent John’s horrible parenting went to, and that she could have been stuck in there, too, if it wasn’t for Dean, almost made her feel like John was still there. Like she still had to wait for orders, like he could still control her life. She sat down and took a sip of beer. “So, I was saying, we got flickering lights, scratching sounds from inside the walls, doors slamming,” Sonny explained. “You know I never believed in this weird mumbo-jumbo, but something ain’t right.”

“Alright,” Dean said, putting down his beer. “We’re definitely gonna check, and if you don’t mind I- I’m actually gonna let the little one here take the lead.” Emily’s eyes shot up at him and she almost choked on her beer.

“Of course I don’t mind,” Sonny said. “You guys do your thing, I’ll…” He looked down at his worn down clock. “I’m gonna go help the younger kids finish their chores before Ruth does her rounds.” Emily looked at Sonny leave and then at Dean.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily nodded. “Dude, you haven’t said a word in like- ten minutes, something’s up.”

“Uh, it’s just-” Emily sighed and swallowed. “I mean, I knew dad wasn’t that great of a parent, but this…” she looked around the room. “This is a place where kids die, okay? And sure, you had Sonny, but what if you hadn’t?”

“Emily, dad did a lot of crappy things to us,” he said. “But we always came through, and that’s the point.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I would have survived any of this when I was thirteen,” Emily said. “And you convinced dad not to send me, which…” She used to hate him back then, but how could she say that to his face? Looking back to those times, Emily could see how much Dean did for her, while all she did was complain and disobey even the simplest orders. All the times he gave her lunch money for school and she complained it was only three bucks, but those three bucks was the last he had left in his wallet. The times he tried to protect her and she just did what she wanted, just to prove the useless point that she was an adult, that she - a fully grown thirteen year old woman- could take care of herself. All the fights and all the screaming matches and for what? No wonders everything else happened like it had. No wonder Dean started despising her, too. She looked at Dean, her eyes filling up with tears. She didn’t know what to say. No words felt right. So she just did what any normal person would do. Not that she had ever been a normal person, surely not to Dean. But she took a step towards him and hugged him. Dean froze for a second, surprised.

“What is going on with you?” he asked. When Emily didn’t answer, Dean seemed to relax and hugged her back. Emily held her breath and tried not to cry. “It’s all good, kid,” he said. She cleared her voice and pulled away. She dried her face and pulled her t-shirt out of her overalls to wipe her nose. Dean laughed. “How about a tissue?” he asked.

“I don’t have one, and you surely don’t have one, so…” Emily huffed. “Jesus,” she sighed. “Okay, sorry, the case?”

“I mean, it looks like this is going to be a simple salt and burn,” Dean said. “How you wanna handle it, boss?” Emily laughed, still trying to dry her face properly.

“Don’t call me that, I am begging you,” she smiled. “I’m gonna go get our EMFs,” she said.

When he sees me

from Waitress

Easy salt and burn my ass, Emily thought as she stood back up and wiped some blood off her face, still holding her machete. It was a Wendigo. She hadn’t hunted one in a whole decade, and it seemed to really have it out for her. What the hell was a Wendigo doing awake in the Michigan winter, anyway? Emily kicked away the wendigo’s head and it rolled in a dark part of the barn. Dean came running. He stopped and saw the rest of the Wendigo’s body, blood still rushing out of it and on the floor.

“Are you okay?” he asked, visibly released.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just- Not used to this anymore.” Dean smiled and used his torch to make light on the corpse.

“He really had it out for you,” he said. “Must have smelled how much of a bitch you are.”

“Dick,” said Emily with a smile. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”

Emily had seen first hand how bad it was out there, and the wendigo was just a harsh reminder that Kevin and her? It wasn’t supposed to happen. She threw her bag across the room and kicked away her boots. It was fucking brutal. Not the life she wished on Kevin, by any means. He was better off going back home. She slid her arms out of her blood-stained overalls and sighed, putting her hands on her desk. She didn’t have the time to think I’m fucking starving, that someone was knocking on her door. She turned. It was Kevin.

“Hey.” he said.

“Hey,” she said.

“Are you okay?” Kevin’s eyes fell on the huge stain of blood she had on her t-shirt.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “It’s Wendigo blood.”

“How did it go?” Kevin asked. Emily took a deep breath and crossed her arms.

“Can we cut to the chase? I’m tired, scared, and I really want to get changed.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “Look, we haven’t spoken in weeks, so I know you’re not here to ask me about the weather in Grand Rapids.”

“Actually I wanted to tell you I got you pizza,” he pointed outside the door. “I took a walk to that place you like.”

“Tony’s?” Emily frowned and Kevin nodded. “Dude, that’s like- two miles away.”

“Yeah… The pizza is cold.” Kevin said. “I vastly misvaluated how long it would take me. I’ve been out all day.” Emily couldn’t help but smile. Nope, she stopped herself. None of this is a good idea. No pizza. No going out. No smiling. “Look, we- we don’t have to eat it together, you… you can just go ahead and have it.” Emily pinched her nose. Fuck, not the sad puppy eyes.

“No, it’s… it’s fine. Go ahead, I’ll- I’ll get changed.” There it was. The little logic she had left- thrown out the window.

“Should we… talk first?” Kevin asked. Double fuck. “I mean, the- the pizza is cold anyway, so…” Emily nodded and sat on her bed. Kevin sat next to her. “So.”

“So.” Emily cracked her knuckles on the mattress. The alarm clock on her side table ticked, reminding her of how long the silence was getting. A minute. Two minutes.

“I missed you this past week,” said Kevin. Emily swallowed. The next words she said were probably the scariest thing that ever left her mouth.

“I missed you too,” she said. Her entire body entered some sort of overdrive, like she was actually in danger. Only she wasn't. “Actually, I- While we were out I- I saw this.” Emily took out her phone and opened a picture she took while on the road.

“Is this Rydell High?” said Kevin, leaning closer to her phone. “Like, the one from Grease?”

“Looks like it.” Emily smiled. “I couldn’t believe it, I- I had Dean stop just to take a picture.” She blocked her phone and threw it next to her on the bed. Emily put her hand on the mattress and touched Kevin’s hand by mistake. The entire Bunker went dark, the power shutting down.

“Was that you?” Asked Kevin, frowning.

“No,” said Emily. “The- the powers are all gone, so…” The red emergency light turned on.

“You guys keep doing your thing,” yelled Dean from the hallway. “I got it, don't worry!” Emily dragged a hand across her face and looked at Kevin. He huffed.

“I get it now, he's an idiot,” he said. Emily nodded and crossed her arms. “Okay, so-” Kevin put his feet on the edge of the mattress. “Sorry I punched that guy.”

“That’s fine,” said Emily. “You meant well.” Still in the dark, Emily looked in front of her. The pile of Harry Potter’s DVD was lit up by the red emergency light and an empty popcorn bowl from who knew how long before was still sitting on top of her laptop. After what felt like minutes of silence, the light turned back on. Emily turned towards Kevin. He was resting his chin on top of his knees. “You okay?” she asked, He nodded. “Should we- Should we grab some pizza? I mean, we still have three Harry Potter movies to watch.” Kevin stood up.

“Yeah,” he said. “I- I got it.” Emily looked at him as he disappeared in the hallway. Dean’s head peaked inside the door.

“So?” he asked. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. Dean frowned. “We didn’t really talk about anything.”

“What?”

“Dean, there’s nothing to talk about,” Emily sighed. “Look, it happened. It was bad. Now we just have to… get past it,” she said. Dean looked behind him and gestured at her that he was going to come back later. Kevin entered the room a couple seconds later holding the pizza box. “Thanks.” Emily smiled. She played the DVD and sat back on the bed. She made sure to stay on the far end of the bed, arms tightly crossed on her chest. Kevin did the same. Nobody spoke for the first twenty minutes of the movie.

“This sucks,” said Kevin. Emily grabbed a slice of pizza.

“I mean, it's still better than the sixth one,” she commented, trying to deflect the awkwardness. Kevin shook his head.

“Yeah, right- you know that’s not what I meant.” Emily’s stomach closed. The slice of pepperoni she was chewing almost choked her. “I’m saying, this sucks.” He pointed at him and Emily.

“Yeah…” she trailed off. “Want to- Do we… I mean how do we fix it?” What a stupid question. Emily thought to herself. You know how to fix it. And yet, she couldn’t listen to herself and the choir of voices in her head telling her to give in.

“I don't know,” answered Kevin. They remained in silence. They had been staring at the paused movie for a few minutes.

“God, this sucks,” she said. Kevin extended his arm to the remote and restarted the movie. With a huff, Kevin paused it again. Emily felt his eyes on her and turned. Jesus, don't look at me like that, she thought. Don't look at me like you're about to kiss me. Emily shook her head. “I’m sorry, I- I don't-” she said, slipping out of bed. “I can't, okay? I'm sorry. It's- it's not your fault, okay? I- I just don't think I can…” Emily trailed out and Kevin sighed. “Sorry. Tomorrow we can- I don't know, we can- we can go out. But tonight- I- I need to… I don't know.” She stood up. Kevin looked away and turned off the TV with a sigh. Emily left the room and walked silently to Dean’s. He looked up at her for a second.

“All good?” he asked, chewing a popcorn. “You look freaked out.”

“Well,” Emily took a deep breath. “I thought I knew what I wanted to do but turns out- I don't! I- I- I am not sure about- about anything!” Dean looked at her. “I- I- don't want to drag him into this life but…” she trailed off.

“But you don't want to be away from him, either?” Dean said. Emily nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

“I can’t believe I’m crying over this!” she complained. “I- I don’t cry for these things, okay? I just don’t!” Dean looked at her and shook his head with a smirk.

“Well, you do now, so you better get used to it,” he said. Emily rolled her eyes.

“Shut up!” she complained, drying her face. “This is not funny!”

“Here's what you're going to do, okay?” Dean said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You're going to sleep it off and talk to him tomorrow, and I'm sure everything's going to be fine and you will kiss and-

“There's not going to be any kissing, okay?” said Emily. “This isn't turning into something real, I'll- I'll talk to him and tell him we can't go any further because- because it's dangerous-”

“Woah- pump the brakes, okay?” said Dean. “Trying to keep this thing at bay is exactly how you ended up fighting.”

“I don't want him to get hurt because of me!”

“Kevin's not going to get hurt just because you let yourself have feelings, Emily!” said Dean. Emily remained silent. “And also, he's an adult, okay? He can take care of himself.”

Wait for it

Love doesn’t discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep loving anyway

She flopped on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe Dean was right. She needed to sleep on it. But she wasn’t tired. Every fiber in her body wanted to run to Kevin’s room and scream in his face that she was tired of being scared. But at that point, she was sure whatever she did was going to make it worse. So, she stared at the ceiling for hours. She couldn't sleep. She'd spent basically every single night on Kevin's bed, for one reason or the other, and falling asleep alone had become hard. It wasn’t until someone knocked on her door that she moved again. She looked at her phone and saw it was seven am, which was usually when Sam came to wake her up to go jogging.

But that morning, it wasn’t Sam. It was Kevin.

“Hey…” She crossed her arms.

“Hey, so- I- I think we-”

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, I- I didn't mean-”

“We should go out for the weekend,” said Kevin. “Take a break.” Emily stopped talking and looked at him.

“What?”

“Yeah, you know- Be normal just for once.”

“Kevin-”

“Emily- it's fine. Let's forget about it, okay?” Emily tried to talk. “Seriously. I just want to go and… pretend none of it happened, pretend we- I'm not a prophet and you don't have weird powers and pretend there's no angels and demons and… ghosts,” he said. “Please.”

“Okay, yeah- yeah.” Emily smiled. “I know just the place.”

“Aaaand, that's the snowman,” said Emily, placing the carrot inside the snow head. Kevin smiled. “You like it?” Emily turned to pick up her bag, but was hit by something on her shoulder. She turned to see her jacket covered on snow. Kevin was nowhere to be found. “Oh, is that it?” She said, picking up a snowball. “Is that the game you want to play?” Emily hid behind a tree and hit Kevin with the snowball. “You can't hide from me, Advanced Placement!” Kevin started to run and Emily followed him. Kevin jumped behind a tree and used it as cover to hit Emily with another snowball. She started running away, but after a couple of seconds Kevin tackled her into a pile of snow. They fell deep into it and came out drenched. Emily rushed out of it, the pungent cold seeping through her not so waterproof clothes.

“Crap!” said Kevin, trying to come out of it. Emily helped him up.

“Cold-” she whispered, shoving the snow away from her face and jacket. “Jesus Christ, Kevin-”

“Are you okay?” asked Kevin, dragging his jacket on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Emily smiled and moved some snow from Kevin's hair. “We’re gonna have to get back to the motel… If I didn't know you any better I would say this was all planned out.”

“What? No, it’s- it's not, I-” Kevin's already red face turned even more red, a piece of snow falling out of his hair. “I- I didn't-”

“Dude, I'm messing with you,” said Emily. “Actually, I saw some christmas markets on our way up here, we can go check them out if you’re not too cold.”

“Wait, wait, wait-” she said as Kevin was about to drink his hot chocolate. “Let’s take a picture together.” Emily handed Kevin her paper cup and took a polaroid out of her bag. “I found it in the Bunker and fixed it.” She explained. She walked to a nearby wall and placed it down. She turned the gear on top to wait ten seconds and then walked back to Kevin. “Ready?” She asked, taking her chocolate back. “3, 2, 1…”

She smiled at the camera, waited for the paper to start coming out and then walked back to the wall. “Look!” she said, shaking the picture to make it develop faster. She turned it towards Kevin. “Damn, we’re hot.” She sat on the wall and started drinking her hot chocolate. Kevin did the same, but since he had whipped cream, he got it smeared on his nose. Emily chuckled. Kevin touched his face. “Where is it?” he asked.

“On the tip of your nose.” He tried to clean it. “Wait, here.” She extended her hand out and cleaned his nose.

“What do you want to do afterwards?” asked Kevin. Emily shrugged. “We can, let’s see-” He looked around. “Sit on Santa’s lap,” Kevin pointed at a house where an old man dressed as Santa was sitting.

“Pass.”

“Buy overpriced gifts for all our friends and family?”

“Eh- meh. I don’t have any friends,” she said. Kevin shrugged.

“Or…” he looked behind Emily’s shoulder. She turned. “We can hide in that elf house over there and smoke.” He said, taking a joint out of his pocket.

“Damn, Kevin, where did you get that?” she asked, confused.

“A guy in Lebanon,” he said. Emily frowned. “Same dude that you were smoking with at that party. Apparently, he remembers me as the guy who punched his middle school bully.”

“Look at you,” said Emily with a smirk. “From advanced placement guy to city hero-” Kevin sprayed some snow on her face. “Hey!” she said. She bent forward and ate most of his whipped cream.

“Hey!” He laughed. Emily cleaned her face. “You realize you wanted to sleep with a bad dude, right?”

“Kevin, he’s just a bully, what is he going to do to me? Push me against a locker?” Kevin looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “Actually, that'd be kinda hot.”

“Trust me, it hurts,” Kevin said with a grimace. He remained silent, taking a sip of his hot chocolate as his smile vanished. “Were you really going to sleep with him?”

“I don’t know,” said Emily with a sigh. “Does it matter? I wasn’t going to ever see him again either way.” Kevin looked away. “Look, we went to that party to have fun, I was trying to have fun,” she said. “You kissed like ten different girls, you don't see me punching nobody about it.” Emily bit the inside of her cheek. She turned the joint between her fingers and waved it in front of Kevin. “Ready to have fun?” Kevin looked up and frowned. Emily did the same. “Sorry, bad phrasing. Are you ready?”

From outside, the plastic elf house looked bigger, but in reality it was barely big enough for the two of them to sit on the floor across from each other. “I have to say I wasn’t expecting this weekend to take this turn,” said Emily. “But I’m not mad about it.” She lit up the joint. “Alright, I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’ve never done this before,” she said. Kevin shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Okay so… You inhale and then- well then you have to actually, you know, breathe it in. It's going to burn.” She took one puff and then handed it to Kevin. He looked at it for a second and then brought it to his lips. Emily swallowed. Surprisingly, Kevin didn't start coughing.

“Am I supposed to feel something?” he asked. “Or did I do it wrong?”

“Give it a while,” she said. “And hopefully you're gonna relax.”

“Relax? Should have tried it sooner.” He chuckled. “How did you do this while also being in advanced placement?”

“Oh, I didn't,” she confessed. “I started after Sam died,” she said. Kevin looked at her. “It’s a long story.” Kevin handed her the joint back.

“Really?” Kevin looked away. Emily brought the joint to her lips.

“I moved in with a guy, but secretly worked in a nightclub,” said Emily. “Lots of drugs going around.” Kevin remained silent and took another puff of the joint. “But as I said, long story. I won’t bore you with it.”

“Everytime you talk about your life I feel like mine was not that scary. Or interesting.”

“Dude- you’re a prophet. That's way more interesting than me being an underage stripper,” she said.

“I mean… I studied all the time before I was a prophet and… I studied all the time after, so… Not that interesting.” Kevin passed the joint back to Emily.

“What about the part where you ran from the king of hell not once, but twice?”

“Not that interesting,” said Kevin. “Not compared to you going to hell.”

“We almost died to save the world,” Emily smiled, passing the joint back to Kevin. “Are you going to tell me that you going batshit crazy and me almost dying wasn’t interesting?” Kevin didn’t answer. Emily laid back on the plastic wall and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Kevin had his head on his knees and was staring in front of him. “Come on, spit it out,” she said, moving next to him. “I don’t want you to get sad-high.”
“I don’t know, I- I thought this weekend was going to be, you know-” Kevin sighed. “My chance to be normal for a while, but all I can think about is the damn angel tablet.”

“You know what?” said Emily. Kevin frowned. “Let’s think about something happy. For example,” she took the joint from Kevin. “What are you going to do when this is all over?” Kevin looked at her in silence. He didn’t answer. After a few seconds, he shook his head and seemed to come back to reality.

“I think it’s working,” he pointed to the joint. Emily handed it back to him. “I mean, I have stuff I’d do if I was sure it was really over.” he said. Emily moved some snow around with her boots.

“Like what?” She asked. Kevin shrugged and looked down at the joint. “Oh come on,” Emily smiled. “This is our normal weekend, maybe we can cross a couple of things off that list.”

“This is too short,” he said, trying to inhale from the joint. Emily gestured at him to pass it back and she held it closer to where it was burning and brought it to Kevin's lips. He took one last long puff and Emily pressed it under her shoe.

“So?” she pushed Kevin lightly with her shoulder. “Are you seriously going shy on me?” Kevin shook his head. “Come on, I’m not going to make fun of you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You’ll definitely make fun of me,” Kevin said, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, we’re the advanced placement team, I got your back.” Kevin smiled. “Come on.”

“I- I actually want to know, once in my life, how it feels to be normal,” he said. “You know- not be the chosen one, or… the child prodigy. I just want to be Kevin.”

“You want me to call you Just Kevin?” Emily asked.

“I actually kinda like the nickname,” he said.

“I can make that happen,” she smiled. “Is that it? No… parachuting? Climbing mount Everest? Get head from one of those Disney stars?”

“That's gross,” Kevin huffed. “No, I- I- I mean it's not… Yeah no that's it.”

“Kevin, come on. We just smoked weed in a elf house. It’s too late for you to be ashamed.”

“I mean, I- There is something I think I’d regret not doing if I died tomorrow.”

“Like what?” Emily crossed her legs.

“I- I don’t-” Kevin looked around and sighed. “Man, this is stupid.”

“Dude, I swear to God-” Emily sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell you something I would want to do, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I- I experienced normal a lot of times, but I never- never was in a relationship where I- where I didn’t lie.” She sighed. “That sounds wrong, I- I mean where I could be myself.” Kevin turned towards her. “The guy I was telling you about, Daniel. He- God, he was nice. But… He didn’t know the truth. I told him I moved to South Dakota after my parents divorced.” Emily tapped her fingers on her elbow. “And- He loved me, but- not really, because- because that wasn’t me. That was the censored version of me.” She sighed. She took the pack of cigarettes from her pocket and moved it towards Kevin. He shook his head. She took one cigarette and brought it to her lips. “So, yeah- uncensored relationship.”

“Are you…” Kevin looked away. “Are you censoring right now?”

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I think- I think you always censor a little bit because if you feel like you’re not in control, you think things will suddenly, I don’t know… explode.”

“Damn, AP psych moment,” said Emily. Kevin huffed. “You’re wrong tho.”

“What?” Kevin frowned, confused. I love it when you're wrong. Emily thought. She dragged her hands through her eyes.

“Dude, I’m not pretending or anything. I don’t have to do that with you.”

“You don’t?”

“Of course not.” Somehow, Kevin seemed surprised. He blinked a couple of times and stared in front of him, in thought.

“What’s it like?” asked Kevin. Emily killed the cigarette under her shoe and turned. “I mean, having a relationship. Like- like not a kids one. A real one.”

“Dude, I have no fucking clue, I- I was seventeen,” she said. Kevin didn't say anything. “But, someone once told me that when you fall in love, everything that you were before, everything you did…” she trailed off. “It vanishes. And you feel like you can be anything and do anything.” Emily sighed. “Because as long as I'm with y-” she cleared her voice, Kevin too busy pulling on the elastic of his socks to realize the mistake. What the hell was she doing, saying stuff like that? Come on, Emily. “As long as you're with the person you love, you can handle everything life throws at you.”

“Like what?”

“Like… I don't know- fighting with your brothers, or… the voice in your head telling you to call it quits, deadly trials to close the gates of hell…” Just going with it, uh? I really gotta stop smoking weed. Kevin fidgeted with the hem of his jeans, silently looking in front of him. “Glasses. Plates.” Okay, how specific do I have to be before you notice I'm talking about you?! “You get what I mean?” she asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Kevin. “I think I do.” Emily stared in front of her, silent. “So, what about you?” asked Kevin. “What will you do when it's over?”

“Oh, I know exactly what I'd do,” Emily smiled. “I want a farm in the middle of nowhere, a cat and potatoes growing in my back yard.”

“That sounds… specific,” Kevin said. “And kidna lonely.”

“Hey, I never said I would go alone.” Kevin looked at her for a split second before going back to staring in front of him. “I need someone to re-found humanity with me if there's ever a zombie apocalypse. Or- someone to turn into ghouls with, in the case of a nuclear fallout.” Kevin huffed.

“You've been playing too much videogames,” he said.

“Maybe.” Emily chuckled. “Your turn to answer questions.”

“Well- that is it,” Kevin said. Emily frowned. “I told you, I want to be normal. That includes normal relationships. You know- adult relationships. None of that middle school crap.” Someone walked around the elf house, moving gravel with snow boots.

“Oh,” Emily’s fingers tapped on her opposite elbow as she rested her head on her knees. The temptation was strong. She closed her eyes and dug her nails into her palm. Do not. She said to herself. This is the worst idea you've ever had. She lacked the courage to turn and look at Kevin, but felt his eyes on her. He let go of his socks.

“Can I… Can I be a nerd for a moment?” he asked.

“Are you usually not a nerd?” Kevin shook his head and took her arm. He traced her scars with his finger, causing Emily to shiver. “Your arm reminds me of the archeology class I took once. It's like… fossils.” Emily failed to hold back a laugh. The weed was doing its job.

“Dude, that is the nerdiest thing to say,” she said. “Why on earth are you taking archeology classes?” Kevin looked at her arm, frowning. “Alright, just Kevin, study my arm. What do you see?”

“So… the oldest ones look like burns. I guess from when your house burned down.” Emily nodded. “There’s a lot of horizontal ones, it's… but this vertical one… it was closed by a doctor, there's still some stitches you never took out. I remember seeing these almost fresh when we first met,” he said. “Scared the crap out of me.” Kevin inspected her arm closer. He grazed her wrist with his finger. “These are all old, right?” Emily smiled and nodded.

“As I said- everything life throws at you.” She said. Kevin's cheeks flushed with red. Kevin looked at Emily's wrist and frowned. He seemed to realize something. His lips parted, the realization making its way in him.

“Oh,” he said. Emily shrugged. Kevin frowned and looked at her. “Am I an idiot?” Emily laughed. “God, I'm an idiot!” Emily shook her head.

“Possibly,” she said. “But still- you're the idiot I'd ask to move into the farm with me.” Kevin's hand stiffened up. “So…” Kevin turned towards her. Emily wasn't too sure about what his face meant, but she knew she had to be realistic. She moved away from Kevin and let go of his hand. “Look, you- you should know-” she sighed. “When you're in the life, you're not supposed to- to-” Kevin frowned. “Because it's dangerous, you know? But I- I- I mean I would get it if you-”

“Emily, I swear to God, for once in your life-” Kevin huffed. “Shut up.” Everything else happened too fast for Emily to process in the correct order.

All of a sudden, she felt Kevin’s lips touching hers and just like that, they were kissing. The lights outside the plastic house dimmed for a moment. It wasn't a long kiss, and it wasn't heated, either. But Emily's mind flooded with a thousand words and feelings she couldn't pick apart. Emily put a hand on the back of Kevin's neck and tried to hold onto the kiss a moment longer. The moment he moved away, Emily already wanted him back. She kept her eyes closed and took a deep breath. “Fuck.” She whispered. It dawned on her that that was it. All the overthinking she'd done, all the times she'd denied it, all the times she'd shoved it down because it was safer that way, it was all gone. Good for nothing. She fucked it all up, again.

“Sorry,” said Kevin.

“Sorry?!” Emily's eyes shot open. She started laughing. “Dude, you- you really are an idiot.” She smiled. “It's fine.”

“You- you said- you know- about being in the life.”

“I- I mean- assuming you care, I-” she asked. Kevin shook his head. “Okay then, you know what?” She took his face in his hands and kissed him. She'd waited way too long to do that. It was about time. Kevin's hands laid by his side, stiffened up for the surprise. Emily reached down to his right hand, their fingers interweaving and fighting for a confused moment before they could just hold each other.

Emily turned on the car and merged into the road back to the motel. The snow-soaked jackets were thrown in the back seat and the heat was cranked to the max. Other than the roaring of the engine, no other sound was going through the car Emily had taken from the Thunderbird. She stared in front of her as Kevin kept nervously cracking his knuckles. They kissed. Not once. But twice. And it was long. And - fuck - it was good. And what she said about wanting Kevin to move into the farm with her - that was the closest she'd ever been to confessing her feelings to someone. But then, after the kiss ended, she didn't know what to do. Kevin didn't seem to know either, because they had barely spoken ever since. They walked out of the elf house, walked around the Christmas markets a couple of times, hands in their pockets, and then Emily had headed for the car.

“So,” she said.

“Yeah,” said Kevin. “We-”

“Yup. We did.”

“Want to do something tonight?” asked Kevin. Emily hesitated. What did that mean? Go out? They were just out. Sex? Just like that? One kiss, then boom? Well, it was two kisses. And it had been two years.

“I- I don't-”

“I mean, maybe- maybe we can grab something to eat and- I don't know, watch a movie.”

“That's fine,” she said. Kevin remained silent for a few seconds.

“Did you- uhm-” He adjusted himself in the seat. “Did you expect something else?”

“What?” Emily frowned. “No, I- I-” she briefly turned towards Kevin. “Sorry, I- I'm just- I don't know, taken by surprise.”

“Ok,” Kevin said. He didn't say anything else.

“But I guess- I guess dinner works, were you thinking take out, or…”

“Either way,” he said. Emily sighed. How the fuck was it so awkward? It wasn't supposed to. The kiss was good, where did she go wrong? She parked a few minutes later in front of the motel. Kevin undid his seatbelt and was about to get out, but looked back at Emily, was was still sitting behind the wheel.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily nodded. “No you're not, what’s going on?”

“We kissed,” she said.

“I'm aware, yeah, I was there.” said Kevin.

“Look, I don't want you to-”

“Seriously?!” said Kevin. “Emily, you know how I feel! And you still-”

“I'm sorry, okay? It's just-”

“What?!” Kevin yelled. “What are you even sorry for?!”

“I- I don't know what to do, okay? I- I never felt like this before! And I feel good, but- but also- also awful, like I'm constantly in danger, and you- you-”

“What are you talking about?!” Kevin asked. Emily crossed her arms and looked away, trying not to cry. “What? What is it?”

“I'm sorry, I- I should never have- I can't-”

“What the hell- slow down! Just- slow down and tell me what the hell is going on in that weird, paranoid brain of yours!” Emily took a deep breath and dried her face. “What does it mean you never felt like this before?!”

“It was just about the sex!” she said. Kevin stopped talking. “It had always been just about the sex until I met you and- and whatever this is happened!”

“And what- what is this?!”

“How am I supposed to know?!” Emily asked. “Kevin, I don't know, okay? I don't have a name for this thing I'm feeling!”

“Why the fuck did you kiss me then?!”

“You kissed me!”

“And then you kissed me!”

“Yeah, because I wanted to!”

“Okay, then do it again!”

“Fine!” Emily put a hand behind Kevin's neck and pulled him closer to kiss him. The argument dissolved in a matter of seconds. When she pulled away to breathe, she hesitated for a moment, waiting for some sort of clarity, for a voice in her head to tell her what to do next. “Fuck!” she yelled. “I- I- I- I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do now!” Kevin looked at her frowned. “I'm sorry, I know I- I- I probably sound stupid and- and- crazy right now-”

“Kinda, a little bit,” Kevin smirked.

“But like,” Emily continued, completely ignoring him. ‘I don't know what the fuck is going on, and-”

“Shut up,” said Kevin. Emily tried to answer. “Shut up and look at me!” Emily did just that. She looked at Kevin and took a deep breath.

“Now what?” she asked, a few seconds of silence later.

“I don't know,” said Kevin. “I've seen people do it in movies, I don't know what was supposed to happen.”

“Are we criminally bad at this?” asked Emily with a smile.

“Considering this doesn't even have a name, yeah, probably.”

“Kevin,”

“No, dude, you- I don't care how you call it,” he said. “But I can't play this game anymore.”

“That's not how this works, okay?” Emily complained, opening the car door. She walked out of the car and Kevin followed her. “If we don't figure out what this is, one of us is gonna get hurt,” she said. “And I really don't want to hurt you!” She walked towards the motel.

“Why am I the one who gets hurt in your scenario?” he asked. “Why do you always have to act like I'm some kind of wimp?” Emily shook her head and shoved the key inside the door.

“Have you met me?” she asked. “I've literally gone through hell.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “You really think I’m gonna let something like this stop me?”

“You think this past year was fun for me or something?” Kevin asked, following Emily inside the room. “Or, hear me out, we could just sit down and figure it out!”

“Not now,” Emily said. She took off her jacket and threw it in the corner. Kevin frowned. “There's something we gotta do first.”

“I'm not doing anything until you-”

“Do you want to keep fighting or do you want to talk about this properly?” she asked. Kevin didn't answer. Emily took off her shoes and opened Kevin's jacket. She pulled it down off his arms and threw it next to hers.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he asked, confused. Emily locked the door and turned on the heater that laid in a corner of the room. She slid her arms out of her overalls.

“Okay, sorry, I'm gonna try to be more explicit with you,” Emily took off her t-shirt and kissed him. “We're about to have sex.” She heard a metallic sound coming from the door and stopped. Kevin turned, alarmed. Emily put a hand on her gun and the door opened. Sam was still crouched in front of the door lock and Dean was standing behind him. For a second, he looked worried, but then took a look at Emily and started laughing.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?!” Emily asked, walking back to gather her t-shirt, ice cold air starting to come inside. “And have you ever heard of fucking knocking?!” Kevin sighed and looked at Emily. “We were kinda in the middle of something!”

“I can see that,” Sam smirked. “We've been calling you, okay? There's an emergency.”

“An em-” Emily scoffed. “Dude, we've been gone for like- a day!” she complained. “Get out!”

“It couldn't wait twelve hours?!” Kevin asked, putting on his jacket.

“Wouldn't be an emergency, would it?” Dean said. “Car, five minutes.” Emily looked at him, then at Kevin. He shook his head and walked to his backpack.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Emily asked. Kevin stopped and both hands on the table with a sigh. “We're not going anywhere! There's literally nothing you can't handle without me!”

“That's true, but it's not you we need,” Sam said. “We have a situation and we need angel tablet homework.”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Dean said. “I’m sure you were gonna have an amazing night of-” Emily let out a frustrated groan.

“Okay, we get it,” she sighed. “Fine.”

“Five minutes, okay?” Dean said, walking out the door. Sam followed him, an apology printed on his face. An apology Emily didn't care about. Two years to build up to that and they had to come and interrupt at the worst possible moment?! That had to be illegal somewhere in the world. She walked to her bag and shoved her clothes inside.

“Unbelievable,” she whispered. Kevin closed the zipper on his backpack and sighed. “Sorry,” she said. “I know this wasn't what you had in mind.”

“Yeah well, what can you do?” he said, putting on his backpack. “We can dream of being normal, but guess what? We're not.” Emily looked at him for a second, then closed her bag and walked towards him. “Maybe you were right.”

“I’m not really sure what I should do,” Emily said, crossing her arms. “Trust me, I don't wanna go, either.”

“It's never going to be over, is it?” Kevin asked. And Emily saw, for probably the first time ever, some sort of resignation. He was giving up to the idea that there was no way to get back to his normal life. He wasn't going back to college, he wasn't going to graduate, and he was starting to realise that. Emily sighed.

“I don't know,” she whispered. “Nothing wrong with dreaming about it, tho.” Kevin pulled on his fingers, biting the inside of his cheek.

“You're telling me you still dream about it?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” she said. “I know it won't happen, but, you know, I still think about it sometimes.” Emily took Kevin's hand and smiled. “I want a quiet life, away from the city, and a normal job that I can go to without risking my life, and I- I don't know, I want a cat and… and Christmas, I want birthdays and…” Emily trailed off and Kevin looked away.

“Yeah, well, too bad we're never gonna get out,” he sighed. Emily looked at him and kissed him.

“We should do it,” she whispered. “We should try to get out.” She smiled. Kevin shook his head. “I’m serious. We're gonna get our life back.” They kissed again. It was a deal, a promise, and the kiss sealed it. But while Emily was ready to ignore Dean for the rest of the night, find an answer to all her questions, Dean was not of the same idea, and he was already punching the door, hurrying them up. Emily looked at the floor and let go of Kevin's hands.

“We're still going with them, aren't we?” he asked. Emily nodded and walked away. She put on her jacket and waited for Kevin to do the same. “We're gonna have to finish talking about what happened later, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Emily opened the door. “Don't worry, we got all the time in the world.” Kevin walked past her and to her car. “You wanna take a swing at the car?” she asked, handing him the keys. He nodded and shoved the key inside the car door to open it, frustrated. Emily smiled and walked around the car and sat in the passenger side.

Emily walked out of the bathroom and sighed. She moved some wet hair out of her face.

“So what if I wanted to clue the human in so that he, or she, could spit the angel out? That would be a good thing, right?” She heard Sam say. Emily felt a weird shiver go down her spine. A sharp pain hit her head. It felt kind of like a brain freeze. Confused, she stopped walking and let out a groan, but the pain was gone just like it had appeared. She didn’t hear anything in response, only footsteps approaching. Dean appeared from behind the corner. “Ah-” he said. “Just the person I was looking for.”

“What? You here to cockblock me some more? You know you owe me one weekend, right?” Dean smirked.

“Yeah- no, actually, I have a case for us,” he said.

“I’m not going on a case,” she complained. Not only she didn't want to go, but Sam and Dean going on a case without her gave her enough time to pack her stuff, take Kevin and leave. “I’ll take a raincheck.”

“No can do,” he sighed. “Sam can’t come and I need a partner.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Dude, you spent the last year trying to get me and Kevin together, and now you drag me away like this?”

“I know- you’re right,” Dean said. “I owe you two weekends of sex with Kevin, but first, the case.” Emily rolled her eyes. “It’s ghouls.”

“Ghouls?” Emily asked, confused. “Seriously?”

“Yup,” he said. “They’re attacking a high school in Sherwood, Ohio.” Emily looked at him, mouth open, trying to figure out if he was messing with her or what.

“The city from Heathers?” she asked. She punched his shoulder. “Are you messing with me?!”

“What? No! Bodies are fucking dropping,” Dean complained.

“Yeah- look for someone dressed in blue,” she whispered, taking the laptop Dean was holding. “Since when do you need a partner for some ghoul killing teenagers?” she asked. “I’ve seen you go into a vamp nest by yourself.” Dean shrugged. “Okay- okay-” She surrendered. Emily walked past him and towards Kevin, who was sitting down at the library. He looked at her for a second, then rolled his eyes.

“You're leaving,” he said. Emily frowned. “I know that face, you feel guilty, which means you're leaving on a case.”

“Yeah,” Emily said, surprised. “Yeah, I- I am…” Kevin opened his laptop and typed in his password. “Look, it's a stupid case, it's gonna be done in a day, tops.”

“Sure,” Kevin sighed.

“I meant what I said,” she whispered, sitting next to him. “We're getting out, okay? I just need to find the right time.”

“We could just go now,” he complained, looking at her. “We could have just driven in the other direction, so why are we back here?” Emily sighed and looked away.

“You wanna help me pack?” she asked. Kevin looked at her for a second, then stood up. She walked to his room and closed the door behind them. She emptied her backpack on her bed and Kevin frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” he answered, walking towards her. Emily smirked.

“We only have ten minutes, we're not gonna have sex,” she huffed. “Not like this, okay?” Emily walked towards Kevin and brushed his hair back. “It’s not fair for me to tell you all about my dreams and then you're off the hook,” she said. Kevin looked away. “And don't tell me you haven't thought about it because we both know that's a lie.”

“I just want to get out of here,” he said. “I don't want to be a Prophet anymore, okay? I- I just want to go someplace else.”

“Okay, then do it,” she said. “Dean and I are gonna be gone, take a car and run to the other side of the country.” Kevin looked at her and shook his head. “What?” Emily asked. “It's not like you don't know how to disappear.”

“Emily, I don't want to leave by myself,” he said. “That's not what I dream about.” Emily smiled and kissed him. “Please, don't go,” Kevin whispered.

“I’m gonna be back,” she whispered. “And we're gonna have the rest of our lives to go wherever we want.”

“Really?” Emily smiled. She nodded.

“Have I ever lied to you?” she asked. “I mean, I am a lot of things, but a liar?”

“Okay,” Kevin took a deep breath. “Wherever we want?”

“Wherever we want,” she said.

That night, she was doing research in the motel, trying to figure out the connection between the victims. In front of her was sitting Dean. Or at least, he used to be sitting there. When she looked up again, Crowley was in the chair instead. She jumped up, alarmed.

“Dean?!” she called.

“Poughkeepsie.” said Crowley. Emily was about to call Dean again, but then stopped and frowned.

“How do you know-”

“-that word, yeah, yeah.” Crowley sighed. “Dean and Sam sent me. Real Dean and Sam. Not the ones that would send you to the place where a musical, a mediocre one, may I add, takes place.” Emily looked at the demon, confused.

“What-”

“I’ll make this quick for you, Sheep,” Crowley said. “You know how you've been sleeping a lot longer? You know how you don't have your powers anymore?” Emily nodded, slowly, putting down her gum. “You’ve been possessed by an angel. He’s got you trapped in this dream while he uses your body to do what he pleases. I’m here to break you out.” She looked at the demon, trying to process. Crowley waited for a few seconds, then rolled his eyes and extracted a gun. He shot her. Emily screamed in surprise, but then looked down at her and realized she wasn’t hurt. “Quelle surprise, right, Veronica?” Emily looked at herself, in shock. “I know how possession works, Emily. So, all you need to do is remember,” he said. “You might want to sit down for it, Sheep.”

“W-Why?” she asked.

“Do you trust-” Crowley rolled his eyes and walked to Emily. “Of course you don’t, what am I saying?” He dragged her back down on the chair.

Death doesn’t discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep living anyway

“Sam, what is going on?” she asked. “You’ve come to get me back like it was a matter of life or death just to have Kevin translate a spell?!”

“Look, I’m sorry I had to interrupt your sexscapade, but it’s important, okay?” Sam said. “We need to talk. You’re not going to be happy.”

“What the hell did you do?!” Emily asked, putting her hands on her waist.

“Those trials really messed you up,” Sam said.

“I know, I was there,” she answered. She looked behind her and towards the library. “Sam, get to the point.”

“No, Emily, you were going to die,” he said. “And I- I didn't wanna lose you, so…” Sam hesitated. Emily's stomach contorted. “I did something stupid.”

“Stupid like what?!” Emily asked. “What did you do?”

“I wanted to talk to you but you were in a coma,” Sam explained. “You were in the hospital and Dean wasn't there yet.”

“Coma?” she yelled. “You said-”

“Yeah, well- I lied,” Sam sighed. “Emily, I’m sorry, okay? I-”

“What did you do?!” she asked. Sam looked around, hesitating. “Sam!”

“I let an angel in.” Emily blinked twice, in disbelief.

“Please tell me you mean in my room at the hospital,” she said. “Please-”

“No, Emily, I mean inside of you.” Emily tried to speak but he interrupted her. “He said he was going to heal you and nothing else.”

“No, Sam- that’s not how it works, angels can’t get in if the host doesn’t invite them!” Sam sighed.

“I tricked you. It was the only way-” Emily scoffed.

“I told you-”

“Look,” Sam put both hands on her shoulders, but she shoved them away. “Wait, okay- I get it, you’re mad. You can fuck me up later, now we’ve got bigger problems?”

“Bigger?” she said. “How is it-”

“Shut it!” He said. “The angel lied, okay? He said he was Ezekiel, but we just found out- Ezekiel is dead.”

“So, what- who-”

“I don’t know, but he can end you whenever he wants, so you better dump him fast.” Emily didn’t answer. He looked at her. “Emily, are you listening? You have to expel him, come on!” She punched him, then turned around and left. When she turned the corner, she ran into Kevin. “Hi.” He smiled. “I rented the last Harry Potter movie, so-” Emily reached out her hand and touched Kevin’s head. But it wasn’t a touch of love.

Kevin fell dead on the floor.

We rise and we fall and we break
And we make our mistakes

Emily opened her eyes. They were already filled with tears. It couldn't be, right? Crowley had to be making it up. She'd just seen Kevin a few hours before.

“I told you it was better if you sat,” said the demon.

“I- I-” Emily looked at him. He wasn't making it up. Poughkeepsie was a real thing Dean had taught her. You say it when you need to tell the other person to get out of there- and fast. And that meant she killed Kevin. Or at least, her hands did it. She looked down at her hands.

“Oh, here we go!” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Emily, you didn’t do anything, okay?” he said. “It was Gadreel!”

“No, I-” Emily stopped talking, the image of Kevin dying replaying over and over in her mind. Crowley stood up and slapped her. She looked at him, confused.

“Sorry, we don’t have time for you to spiral, you need to cast him out-” Behind him, a man appeared and looked at her. Emily looked across the room. That had to be the angel possessing her. Crowley stopped talking, then sighed. “Oh, bollocks.”

“Hello, Emily,” said the angel. Emily looked at him. He used her as a puppet. He used her to- She raised her hand and the angel flew across the room. She did it out of habit, and nothing should have happened, but Gadreel’s body still hit the wall. Maybe Crowley was right. Maybe it wasn't the trials that made her lose her powers. Maybe it was having an angel inside of her. Which meant she could still kill that angel just by thinking about it. Crowley look at her and smirked. Emily walked towards Gadreel, who was standing up.

“Get out of me,” she said. Gadreel smirked and Emily slammed him to the wall again.

“Are you sure, Emily?” the angel asked. “Because I’m the one keeping your organs from collapsing, I leave, you die.” She tightened her hold against his neck.

“I said- GET OUT!”

Intermission

Emily opened her eyes and she was on the floor. It wasn’t the bunker. It wasn’t the motel in Sherwood. Dean was towering over her.

“Are you okay?” he asked. She looked at him and knew. Everything Crowley showed him had happened. She could tell. He was worried for her, but that wasn't all. Dean was terrified. She didn’t answer. Dean looked at her for a second, then took the wise choice to take a step back, but not quick enough, because Emily used her powers to throw him off of her. Before she could jump to attack him, however, Castiel pinned her down.

“Wait,” the angel said.

“LET ME GO!” she screamed. She tried to use her powers on Castiel, but before she could, he put two fingers on her forehead, making her fall asleep. When she woke up she was in the Bunker’s infirmary. She was alone. As she fully came to her senses, the voices of her brothers echoed through the Bunker.

“I can't believe you'd do something like that!” yelled Dean. “And you lied to me, all this time!”

“I couldn't let her die, Dean! She's-”

“What do you think it's going to happen now?!” Said Dean. “You think she's ever going to trust you again? Kevin is dead, man!” Emily closed her eyes. Kevin was dead. She already knew but hearing it from someone else, loud and clear, made it much more real. Her stomach sank. She sniffled and dried her face. “For once, she had one good thing going on, and now he's dead. You think she's gonna just brush it off or something?”

“I didn't want this to happen, Dean!”

“Yeah but it did! So now what?!”

“I-”

“All this for what, Sam?” Dean asked. Emily stood up. Her entire body screamed for mercy. The pain from the trials was back, she could recognize it. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Yeah, what the hell were you thinking?” Emily asked. Sam and Dean turned, alarmed. “Which part of ‘I don't care if I die’ did you not understand?” Sam looked at Emily, but she couldn't hear anything. Not anymore. No matter if she wasn't possessed anymore, her powers were still gone. But she still knew Sam. And she knew exactly why his twisted mind had brought him to keep her alive even when she didn't want to. After Dean had gone to purgatory, their relationship had taken a hit. They were not as close as they used to be. Forcing him into a psychiatrist ward did not fix that, it just made sure they didn't see each other for a year. And when Dean came back, she and him had managed to somehow find common ground. They'd actually turned into siblings for the first time in a decade, and if Emily knew anything about Sam, she knew he was probably trying to kill himself about it. Because he wanted to be her best friend, he wanted to be the one she went to with her problems, the shoulder to cry on, because he was the nice one and Dean was the asshole. That had been true their entire life, and Sam could not stand to lose that. Which was why he brought her back: so he could be the hero, the one that fixed her, the one that saved her. Emily scratched her neck, and that was when Emily realized her powers were back. Maybe Sam wasn't trying to use telepathy earlier. Sam looked at her, terrified. He knew. He knew she'd just figured it all out. The problem was, Emily didn't want to be saved, she didn't want it back then, and wanted it even less with Kevin dead, the ashes of his funeral still piled on the roof of the Bunker. She could see it through Sam's memories. “You're a selfish asshole,” Emily hissed, walking past Dean and towards Sam.

“Woah, woah- where are you going?” Dean asked.

“I'm going to kick Sam's ass.” she said. Dean put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She almost fell to the ground and used the wall to stand. “And then I'm out the fucking door.”

“Don't worry about that,” Dean said, his voice way too calm to be an actual reflection of his mood. “Sam was just leaving.”

“What? No, I-” Sam tried to say, but Emily tried to push away from the wall to go towards him. Dean stopped her again.

“Emily, you're not going anywhere like this,” Dean said, glaring back at Sam. “Cas’ gonna come by to heal you.”

“I don't want to be healed!” yelled Emily. “Just… let me go!” She tried to push past Dean to go to Sam, but couldn't. Dean held her back firmly. Emily looked at Sam. He had been crying, she could tell. But she couldn't bring herself to care. Not that long before, he was the one who said ‘if you cared about me you’d let me go’. What the hell happened to that? “I can't believe you,” she said. “I thought you were the one who knew me best. I thought- I thought you were going to be the one to know-” Than it landed on her. Revenge. Sam looked at her and she knew that was exactly it. Sam’s eyes widened and he apologized before she could even start yelling.

“I'm sorry…”

“I don't care if you're sorry- Don't you get it? If I died, none of this would have happened. Kevin would be back home in Michigan, he would be back to college by now, and instead, he's fucking dead! And I-I-” Emily looked at her hands. She didn't do it, right? It wasn't her. It was Gadreel, taking control of her body. Then why did it still feel like she did it? Emily leaned back on the wall, feeling nauseous.

“Kid,” said Dean. “This isn't on you.” Emily swallowed and looked at Sam. He dried his face.

“Get out of my face,” she said. “I don't want to- Get out of my fucking face!”

“Emily-” Sam tried to say.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” she screamed. Sam looked at Dean, who didn't say anything. He walked backwards towards the door.

“I'm sorry. Really.” Emily didn't answer. She was replaying what she'd remembered, Sam's memories, over and over again. She was trying to find how it all fit together, how could she miss it. All the times Gadreel had talked with Sam through her body, all the times he'd wake up at six AM, talked with Sam, and then got back to sleep so she wouldn't notice. Dean walked her back to her bed.

“I'll go deal with Sam,” he said. “I'll be back, okay?” Emily didn't answer. As Dean left the room and more fighting moved through the Bunker, Emily stared in front of her. The main door slammed and Dean walked back in. “Sam's gone.” Sam was gone. The one person she'd always counted on, always trusted, was gone. Just like that, it felt like the entire ten years of being siblings, of being best friends, didn't matter anymore. Sam was gone, and Kevin was dead. Emily took a second to process. She had no one left. Dean sat on the bed next to her. “Look, I- I don't know your process, but if- if you want to cry or… throw stuff at the wall, I-” Emily looked at Dean and released a sob. All the fear, all the anger, all those emotions that remembering what Gadreel had done had thrown at her, they were flowing out of her like a river. She covered her face with her hands and cried. Dean crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling.

Dean didn't know how long it had been. But Emily'd been crying for a long time. He’d tried a lot of things. He tried giving her a blanket- he'd seen it done in movies-, he tried talking to her, he even tried cold water. Nothing did it. That was when Dean realized. She was never going to be the same. Emily was gone. And he couldn't afford to lose her. He had to do something. He walked back in the infirmary and dropped Emily's backpack on her bed. He fixed his duffel over his shoulder.

“I packed our bags,” he said. Emily barely looked at him. “Let's go.” Emily didn't ask questions. She dried her face, grabbed her backpack and tried to hold her breath to the garage. She sat in the front seat as Dean started the engine. He looked over to her. She was still crying. Not sobbing, but still crying. She fell asleep ten minutes into the drive. Dean had no idea if it was the white sound of the car, the music or just being out of the Bunker, but he took a breath of relief. It didn't last long. Emily woke up screaming half an hour later. He held her back with his hand as she realized where she was. He stopped by the side of the road. Emily stared in front of her, the ghost of the nightmare slowly fading from her eyes. She then started to fumble with the door handle. Dean unlocked the car and she rushed out. He hurried around the car and next to her just in time to see her vomit. He moved her hair out of the way and helped her stand straighter. She cleaned her face and leaned on the car.

“You good?” he asked. Emily ignored him. Dean sighed and nodded. “Okay, I…” He trailed off. Who was he kidding? It was understandable Emily wouldn't want his help. After everything that had happened, after he blew up every single chance he had. “I'll be in the car, you take your time.” Emily grabbed him from the edge of his jacket’s sleeve. He turned and she looked at him. He'd seen that look before, a long time before. It was back when Sam had died. But if back then, he couldn't understand it, now he could. And it meant ‘don’t leave me alone’. “Okay.” He said. He leaned on the car next to her. Emily grabbed her backpack from the car and took out a half destroyed, smashed pack of cigarettes.

“Can I get one?” asked Dean. Emily frowned. “What, you think I was never sixteen?” he asked. Emily moved the pack towards him and he took a cigarette. “Look, about Kevin-”

“Shut up,” said Emily. That was all she said. She lit up both their cigarettes and stared in front of her.

“Sorry.” Emily sniffed and dried her face. She closed her eyes and stood straighter. “Emily, how-”

“Shut-up!” she yelled. She took a deep breath, seemingly ignoring the way she was shaking. Dean looked away. A couple of seconds later, Emily slid down the side of the car and sat on the floor. She tried to repress a sob. Dean swallowed. What the hell was he going to do? He wasn't good at fixing people. He surely wasn't good at fixing Emily. He'd always been good at breaking her, failing her. She never relied on him for anything. On the contrary, every time things got rough, she took a step away from him. He wasn't Sam. He was never going to be. So, what was he going to do? Emily managed to suppress her sobs for a few minutes before one came through and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand to try and keep herself from making any noise.

“Kid, it's fine,” Dean said. Emily shook her head and tried to take a deep breath. She sat straighter. “Look, what do you want to do? We can- we can take a break for a while, call Cas to heal you- or we- we can jump back into it. Find Gadreel.” Emily didn't answer. “You and I- we can find him and we can kill the son of a bitch.” Something in his words seemed to strike the wrong chord, which made Emily break into sobs again. Dean didn't say anything. His hands instinctively went to the side of the car, where he tapped his index finger, his middle finger and his ring finger. He did it once. He did it twice. It did, as always, give him a false sense of security. A sense that everything was going to be okay. He knew, rationally, that it wasn't the case. He didn't want to listen to his rational feelings. Because Dean remembered how it felt losing Cas. He thought he was going to go crazy. It felt like the whole world was crumbling and he couldn't stop it. So, if he listened to his rational thoughts, he should have come to terms with the fact Emily was feeling like that, too. He wasn't sure he could take that hit. He needed to keep his head clear.

When he parked at the motel, Emily didn't say a word. She put on her backpack and walked to the reception. She waited for Dean to check them in. Emily sat on the bed, kicked her boots away and stared at the wall in front of her. He'd never seen her so still. So silent. Apparently, there was a new stage, one he'd never witnessed before. Throwing up and crying wasn't the last stage. It could get worse. It had gotten worse.

“Do you want to have dinner?” he asked. Emily didn't move. She remained silent. “I'm in the mood for pizza, what about you?”

“Pizza is fine,” Emily whispered, not taking her eyes off of the wall. Dean stepped outside to call the pizza place. When he came back, Emily hadn't moved an inch. He didn't say anything. He wanted to help her. He had no idea how. Every time he looked at her, all solutions that came to mind seemed silly. Hugging? Emily and Dean didn't hug. Talking about it? She specifically said not to. What about- “Stop looking at me like that,” said Emily. Dean sighed.

“Like what?”

“Like I might explode any second.” Dean crossed his arms. Emily sighed as he looked away. He sat on the bed next to Emily.

“Pizza place said 20 minutes,” he said. Emily nodded. She crossed her arms. Dean noticed the elastic band on her wrist was back. She took it and slid a finger under it. She tensed it and let it go on her wrist. The click brought Dean back a decade, when Emily was sixteen and she clicked the damn thing every time she was nervous. The elastic was thin. Click after click, the skin on her wrist started to give. Dean pretended not to see. She didn't bleed, but red, swollen lines were showing up on her skin as she clicked. Emily clicked the elastic one last time. She hissed and Dean turned. The elastic was gone. Almost invisible drops of blood were coming out a jagged line. Emily took the broken elastic and threw it across the room, in the direction of the trashcan. How was he supposed to help? Stop her? Tell her to stop? When did it ever work before? “Dean?” She whispered. Dean looked up from Emily's wrists. Her eyes were full of tears, her lip shaking. “I don't want to go to sleep.” As Emily broke into crying again, Dean pushed himself off the bed and walked to his bag. He opened it and looked for the first aid kit, but it was nowhere to be found. “I'll be right back,” he said. Emily didn't answer. When Dean turned to look at her she was picking at the skin on her wrist, barely breathing. Dean walked to the car and put both his hands on the hood. He took a deep breath. Keep it together, he said to himself. Now's not the time. He started tapping his fingers on the car. One, two, three. One, two, three. Dean brushed his face with his hand. It was heartbreaking to see Emily like that. She needed help and he couldn't even bring himself to hug her. He popped the trunk and took out the spare first aid kit. He walked back in. Emily's hands were smeared with blood. The tiny cut from the elastic had gotten bigger, she'd tore it apart with her nails. Dean used all his willpower not to look worried or scared and sat in front of her on the bed. What was he supposed to do? She wasn't going to give him her arm to medicate, that was for sure. Emily noticed the first aid kit, looked at her arm and gasped for air. Emily fell forward and put her forehead on Dean's shoulder. He froze, unsure on what to do. Uncomfortable, even. Why? She's your sister. How did we get to this point? Dean took Emily's arm. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and let go of his sister's wrists, which fell back on the mattress without much resistance. He took some disinfectant and cleaned her wrist. His phone started vibrating in his pocket. He fumbled to take it out. It was Sam. He hung the call and threw his phone to the other side of the bed. Emily's nails dug in his shoulder as her sobs intensified again, her breath starting to get cut short. Fuck. He had no idea what to do. How to calm her down or help her in any way. Well, there was one way. The way he did it. Not that he was proud of it or anything. But ever since he tried it, it worked. When the anxiety was too much, when the nightmares and his thoughts kept him awake for days and days, it was nothing benzos couldn't fix. It hadn't even been hard to get a prescription for it. Or get them in the streets, either. But how do you bring something like that up? ‘Hey kid, do you want some diazepam? It's injectable so it looks like you're doing heroin, but I swear that's not the same thing!’ It wasn't exactly an easy thing to propose.

“I can't-” She cried. “I can't, please- please do something!”

“What?”

“I don't know, punch me, take me out- Just- DO SOMETHING!” Emily hit the mattress with her fist, her hand bouncing right back. Dean looked at Emily, then at his phone. Seven AM.

“I'm- I'm gonna get us some coffee, okay?” He said. Emily didn't answer. She kept crying. Did he really want to leave her there alone? Dean walked to the car, then stopped. What the hell was he doing? Running? Seriously? You're the older brother, he said to himself. You have to take care of her. Dean turned around and walked back in the motel room. But what he came back to was unexpected. He must have been gone for less than 5 minutes, she had trashed the room. The mirror was shattered across the floor, the table broken into pieces on the opposite side of where it used to be. He nearly got missed by a chair Emily had thrown towards the door. Her eyes were puffy and her face smeared with blood. Her arms weren't bleeding, it was her hands, probably from the mirror. When she saw him, she froze. Her breath grew shorter and she wrapped herself in her arms. Dean walked to his bag.

“Sit down,” he said, moving a piece of chair from the bed. “I'm not gonna take you out but I can give you something.”

“W-what?”

“It's… it's drugs. I can give you drugs, okay?”

“Why do you-”

“Just- trust me, okay? It works.” Dean took the vial out of his bag. Emily frowned. “Do you want to do it or should I?” asked Dean, his hands shaking. Emily didn't answer. She looked around and crossed her arms, her nails digging into her skin as her eyes filled with tears. “Dude, I can put it back if you want but if you're that-”

“Okay, just- just- just fucking do it!” Emily yelled. “If you really can't think of another way to fucking calm me down, just- yeah, pump me full of drugs!”

“I- I-” Dean stuttered, confused.

“I mean, is it really so hard to just… I don't know, be a brother?” Emily asked. Dean put down the vial and crossed his arms. “I always knew you didn't like me but isn't this a little too much?!”

“What are you talking about?” asked Dean. Emily scoffed. “Dude, I just kicked Sam out of the bunker, how-” He took a deep breath. “I'm just trying to help, okay?!” Emily dried her face and sniffled. Dean looked at her, tears pushing at the corner of his eyes. “Shit-” he whispered, looking away. “Emily, I wish I could tell you you'll be fine but, honestly? I'm not sure that's the case.”

“Wow,” said Emily, rolling her eyes. “That's helpful.”

“I'm sorry,” said Dean. “I'm sorry, okay? It's just… I-I-” Emily walked to his bag, took the vial and the box of syringes that he had placed next to it and disappeared into the bathroom. “Emily, w-” The door locked, leaving Dean outside the room with no way in. He could feel the situation slipping out of his control. He slid down the wall and sat next to the door. She could hear Emily cry softly in the bathroom and tears had the best of him. He dried his face and turned his eyes to the ceiling. He took a deep breath and cleared his voice. Emily came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. She put the box where it used to be. Dean looked at her from the opposite side of the room.

“Do you do this stuff?” she asked, letting herself fall on the bed. Dean nodded. “How often?”

“It depends,” he said. “Like… once a month? Once every two months? When I really need to sleep.”

“Why not pills?” Emily stared at the ceiling with red eyes.

“It's… uh- easier to get. They use it for seizures” Dean explained. Emily stared at the ceiling. “Is it working?”

“I'm not crying or screaming or throwing stuff, am I?” Dean didn't answer. He stood up from the floor and dried his face. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me,” she whispered. “This is not what was supposed to happen.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, standing up. Emily shook her head and scoffed. “Why are you laughing?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Emily said. She took off her t-shirt.

“Dude, how much did you take?” Dean asked, walking back towards his bag to find the vial empty. “You- the entire thing?” Emily looked at him and shrugged.

“Oh, relax,” she said. “It's not like I haven't done any drugs before.”

“Emily this is not some weed twice a year,” he said. “This-

“I was a stripper, dude, you think I did that job while being sober?” Emily asked. “It’s fine.” Dean looked at her.

“Oh,” he said. He cleared his voice and walked towards the bed. “You never told me.” Emily rolled her eyes and sat straighter in the bed.

“You never asked,” she said. Dean crossed his arms.

“Emily, what do you mean this wasn’t supposed to happen?” he asked. Emily shook her head.

“Forget it,” she said. Dean opened his mouth to answer, but Emily snapped. “I said forget about it!” Dean shook his head and turned on the TV. He grabbed a beer out of his bag and sat down at the table. “Dean, what am I going to do?” she asked. Dean looked at her and sighed. He stood back up and walked towards her. “The benzos are going to come down at some point and I'm going to start crying all over again.”

“We'll think about it when it happens,” he answered, putting a hand on Emily's shoulder. “I know you're going to power through.”

“How?” Emily asked. Dean frowned. “How do you know? Every single time something horrible happened I tried to call it quits!”

“Well, I think this time it's going to be different,” he said. Emily shook her head. “Trust me.”

The following morning, Dean went out on a supply run and when he came back, Emily wasn't in bed. Panicked, he slammed the door close behind him and looked for her in the room. He scanned the floor, the ceilings, the walls, like she could have climbed up there somehow. He opened the bathroom door and took a deep breath of relief. Emily was sitting on the floor in front of the toilet.

“Are you okay?”

“Lightheaded,” she said. “And I'm pretty sure I'm going to start crying again in like… ten minutes.”

“Did you throw up?” he asked, handing her the toilet paper. Emily used it to clean her face.

“Yeah,” she answered. He helped her stand up and she put her hands on Dean's shoulders for balance. He helped Emily back in bed, where she stared at the ceiling above her, silent. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she was thinking about. And yet, he was convinced there was not a single thought about calling it quits. He knew. It was just a feeling, something about the way her eyes had changed. The Emily she was looking at was not the same Emily he had seen in the mental hospital. She wasn't the same Emily he'd seen just two weeks before, either. But that last change, that wasn't for the better. It was Kevin, whatever there was between them, that changed her from the second they met. It was undeniable. And the proof was right in front of him. She wasn't trying to hurt herself. She was just… existing. Mourning. He never hoped to see her go through that but he'd have never imagined her reaction to be the one she was having.

“So, what's next?” asked Emily. Dean frowned. “Where are we going? How are we- how are we going to find Gadreel?”

“Emily, you can take a few days. A few weeks, even,” Dean said. He would have given anything to have a few days when he’d left Cas behind in purgatory, and nobody ever gave him the chance.

“Can you?” asked Emily. Dean looked away. He knew Emily needed time like he’d needed it in the past, but he was her brother, and what he craved was to make it right by her and kill Gadreel. That was the only thing he could think about. He didn't answer. “I get it,” Emily said. “I need to pull it together.” Dean closed his eyes and turned around for a moment.

“I can do this by myself,” he said. Emily looked at him like he’d gone crazy.

“Don’t you get it, Dean?” she asked. “I’m not going to sit here and wait for someone else to do what I should be doing.” Dean put his hands on his waist and looked at the ceiling. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t allow himself to. He sniffled and Emily turned back just a moment, but didn't say anything. Dean pinched his nose and cleared his voice. He was fine. He had to be.

Act II

Cigarette Daydreams

by Cage The Elephant

Dean woke up, the third different motel bed that week shaking and creaking like crazy. Emily, wrapped in the thin, paper-like covers, was having another nightmare. She mumbled words in her sleep, tossing and turning and throwing hands around. It wasn't the first time she had nightmares. Of course, he knew she'd been having nightmares for years, but it was never that bad he got woken up by it.

“Kid,” he called. Emily didn't calm down. She pulled on the covers, dragging them out from under the mattress and leaving her feet uncovered. “Kid, wake up.” Dean put a hand on her shoulder and shook her awake. She sat up, scared. The realization it was all a nightmare settled in and she turned towards Dean. “You good?” he asked. Emily nodded and dragged her t-shirt through her face to dry it from the sweat. She didn’t answer and closed her eyes for a second, taking a breath. “You want some water?” Dean stood up and checked the time. Five AM. “I can get us coffee.” Emily stared at the wall in front of her.

“Dean, we're never going to find him, are we?” she asked. Dean crossed his arms. It had been weeks. They kept moving around, trying to pick up a trail, but nothing ever came out of it. He didn't answer. Emily sniffled and dried her face with the back of her hands. “I can't,” she whispered. “I can't do this. I- I- I'm not strong enough, Dean, I-” Dean closed his eyes. He walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, next to Emily. “He keeps dying and dying-”

“Listen to me,” he said. Emily dried her face again. “We’re gonna find him, okay? We’re close, I know we’re close.”

“Let me offer some distraction,” said a familiar voice. Dean turned and Crowley was standing in the middle of the room. “Doing our morning cry session, Sheep?” he asked. Emily shook her head and dried her face.

“What the hell are you doing here?” asked Dean. Crowley ignored him. Emily's arm flew across the room and her backpack followed it, hitting Crowley in the face. He massaged his cheek and cleared his voice, trying to mask a very obvious surprise. Dean frowned. He thought Emily had lost her powers. She looked at her hand and frowned, too. “Message received, Sheep. You don't like me,” the demon said.

“You can bet your crusty old ass I don't,” said Emily. “You're definitely in the list of people I’d want to see dead,”

“You keep a list?” asked the demon. “Look at me, a Next To Normal reference.” Emily scoffed and shook her head. “No need to be like that, Sheep. I am perfectly aware I am barely a stain in your life right now.”

“I wouldn't be so confident,” answered Emily. “Because this is not the final number of Next To Normal, so you are not my favourite problem.”

“Sure I’m not,” Crowley smirked. “That would be your prophet, woul-” Dean’s backpack flew across the room, but stopped a few inches away from Crowley. He smirked and threw it in Emily’s direction. “What I meant to say is,” the demon said, adjusting his suit. “We both know that's absurd. There's at least two people that are higher than me and I know for a fact your bloodlust is reserved for those two.” Emily shook her head. “Now, let's get down to business. I am offering you a job.”

“Pass,” said Emily, standing up. “We already have a job.”

“And how's that working out for you, Sheep?” he said.

“We're doing just fine,” Dean answered, getting his backpack off the floor. Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Why lie?” he asked. “And why not take on another, more satisfying challenge?”

“Crowley, get to the point,” said Dean. “What do you want?”

“I don't want anything. I am giving you the chance to kill Abaddon.” Emily scoffed. “Something funny?”

“Crowley, last time, I said-” said Dean. Crowley waved his hand at him.

“What about we don't dwell on the past?” said Crowley. “Ever heard of the First Blade?”

“No,” Dean answered. “Can I kill you now?”

“I've been chasing the blade for decades,” the demon continued, ignoring Dean. “The closest I got to it was when one of my droogs- Smitty- got wind of a protégé demon of Abaddon's who claimed knowledge of the blade.” Emily stood up and retrieved her backpack too. She threw it in the opposite corner of the room. Dean crossed his arms. “Sadly, before Smitty could nab the guy, a hunter by the name of John Winchester nabbed the protégé.” Emily frowned. “I'm here to see if there's anything in the John Winchester Memorial Library that might lead us to the first blade… to kill Abaddon.”

“Wait, did you just say- John Winchester?” asked Emily. Crowley shook his head.

“Did all the crying over your dead toyboy made you deaf, Sheep?” Just as Emily was about to move her hand towards Crowley, probably to use her powers, Dean gestured at her to stop. She rolled her eyes and went to make coffee instead.

“You want to hunt?” asked Dean. “With us?”

“I do love myself a good love triangle trope,” said Crowley. Emily looked at Dean. He took a deep breath and walked to his jacket, which was hanging off a chair. He took out John's journal.

“Dean!” said Emily. “Seriously?!” She looked at him, then at Crowley. Dean hesitated.

“I'll give you two a moment,” said a demon before disappearing.

“Dude, what the hell?!” asked Emily. “You just said you couldn't wait to kill Gadreel and now- we're just… trusting Crowley with what might as well be a fucking trap? He put Kevin through fucking hell, for Christ’s sake.”

“I don't know, kid, I…” Dean sighed. Emily's eyes widened. “Look, you've been having nightmares, you cry in your sleep, you- you- you wake up screaming- you're falling apart!” he said. Emily crossed her arms and looked towards the ceiling. “See? I mean- Maybe he's right. Maybe we need a distraction. So you can, you know- rest.” Dean looked around. “This isn't about trust, I'm just trying to help.”

“I don't want a distraction,” said Emily, putting down the coffee cup she’d picked up. “I don't need- I don't care about Abaddon, okay?! I want- I need for this to be over!” Emily's words died in her throat. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Dean frowned. Something was wrong. Emily stared in front of her, shocked by something Dean couldn't tell. It was like her entire life flashed before her eyes. It was almost like she’d seen a ghost. In the metaphorical, non-hunting kind of way.

“Emily?” He saw Emily's eyes fill up with tears and sighed. Maybe she did see a ghost. What were her last words? I need this to be over. I want to go home. He distinctly remembered Emily using those words to quote Kevin at least a dozen times. Emily pinched her nose and slid down the motel wall. Dean could tell, even from a distance, she was forcing herself not to cry.

“Emily-”

“SHUT UP!” she screamed. Dean crossed his arms and looked at the floor. His throat closed, just for a moment, and he was forced to clear his voice. “I- I- I don't want to do this, okay?! You know what I want? You know what I really want?!” she asked. “I want to shoot Sam in the face! I want Kevin to be alive! I want for you to stop looking at me like I'm about to kill myself! But guess what- You can't always get what you want!” Emily stood up. “So, Sam's gonna live, Kevin's gonna stay dead, and you- you're just going to look at me with that dumb, stupid- fucking- fucking worried face like- like-” Emily stumbled on her words. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dean!” she screamed. “I want to go home, but guess what? I can't! Because every time I'm gonna walk through the library all I'm gonna see is Kevin's dead body! And me- killing him!”

“I know.”

“No, you don't know!” said Emily. She pushed herself off the wall and walked towards the bathroom. “Just- leave me alone!” As the bathroom door slammed, Dean flinched.

“She really is something,” said Crowley's voice.

“Damn it, Crowley, not now!” said Dean. “Don't you have somewhere else to be?”

“Can I give you some advice, Squirrel?”

“Does it matter if I say no?”

“Barely,” said the demon. “Dean, your sister's a bloody bitch.” Dean frowned. He waited a couple of seconds, thinking there was more. But Crowley didn't speak.

“Your point?” asked Dean.

“Well then, stop treating her like she's some sort of delicate flower in need of care and affection,” said the demon. “Fucking do something.” Dean rolled his eyes. Why was he even listening to Crowley for advice? He looked at the bathroom door. “You gonna open it or should I?” Dean didn't answer, but he still took a step forwards to open the bathroom door. Emily was sitting in front of the toilet, leaning on the white wall. She was holding a razor blade between two fingers, staring at it.

“Come out of there,” said Dean. Emily tried to use her powers to close the door, but Dean put his foot in the doorframe, keeping it open. “I said come out.” When Emily didn't move, Dean walked to the toilet, where Emily was sitting, and forced the razor out of her fingers. The blade clanged to the floor and Emily tried to fight back as Dean dragged her out the bathroom.

“Dean, leave me alone!” she complained, trying to set herself free.

“Listen to me-” said Dean, pushing Emily towards the bed. She stumbled a couple of steps back. “I don't care what you think you need, you hear me? You don't get to make that call because you can't! I say we need a break from this Gadreel thing, you know why? Because I'm not going to stand here and watch you slowly kill yourself over Kevin!”

“Why?!” said Emily.

“Because I don't want you to die, Emily!” Dean yelled. Emily looked away. “And sorry if I look at you like you might die any moment, but have you seen yourself lately?!” Emily glared towards the dirty mirror in the corner of the room, but immediately looked away. “Dying’s not gonna bring him back,” said Dean. Emily crossed her arms, and Dean managed to get a good look. She was clean.

“I know,” she whispered. “It's just, I- I-” Emily pinched her nose. “I don't know how to-”

“I know,” said Dean. He put a hand on Emily's shoulder. “I know.” Emily leaned forward, resting her head on Dean's chest. Emily released a sob, then held her breath. Half a minute later, she stood back up. Crowley reappeared in the room. He had a coffee in his hand. He placed it next to Emily, on the nightstand. She looked at him and frowned.

“Thought it would make you less of a fucking bitch.” Crowley said.

“Bite me, Crowley,” she said.

“Later, Sheep. Not in front of your brother,” the demon answered. Emily rolled her eyes and Dean crossed his arms. “So, what's the verdict?” asked the demon. Dean looked at Emily, she didn't raise her eyes. Dean opened John's journal and rummaged through the pages.

“Here,” he said. “He picked up a protégé who had bones with Abaddon, but that's about all it says here.” Crowley pointed at something in the journal, but Dean moved it away.

“What do those numbers in the margins mean?” asked the demon.

“None of your business,” said Dean, keeping the journal away from Crowley. Emily rolled her eyes and took the journal out of Dean’s hands. She forced herself in the middle of him and the demon and placed the journal down in front of her. “What are you doing?” Emily ignored him.

“When John left numbers like this,” she sighed. “It’s a code to one of his storage lockers.”

“See, Dean?” said Crowley. “Your sister doesn’t play hard to get.” Dean rolled his eyes. “What about the T?” Emily looked at Dean. He shrugged.

“Got no clue,” he said. Crowley took a step back from the table.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Let’s go find daddy’s man cave then, shall we?” Dean didn’t move, and so didn’t Emily. “What?”

“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” asked Dean. “I’m sure you noticed we’re not exactly in the mood.”

“You…” said Crowlery, theatrically. “Don’t. That’s what makes it fun.” Dean looked at Emily. She cracked her hands.

“Crowley,” she said. “You should know, this whole thing has made me angry. And upset.”

“I could tell.”

“Let me finish.” she said. “And when I feel like that, my powers tend to go out of control.” Crowley crossed his arms. “It would be a shame if said powers were to… you know, hurt you.”

“I’m sorry, are you threatening me?” said Crowley, pointing at himself. “The king of hell?”

“Me?” Emily scoffed. “No, of course not.” Dean cleared his voice. “I’m just letting you know what will happen if you choose to make me more angry. Or more upset.” Dean smirked.

“Okay, Sheep, message received.” said Crowley. “Can we go now?”

Emily took the black bag off from Crowley’s face. He fixed his hair and huffed.

“Is all this really necessary?” he asked. Dean walked past him, hitting his shoulder with his. “I mean, Emily, I’ve been inside of you, we’re practically family-” Before Emily could answer, Dean turned around on his feet and grabbed Crowley from his jacket.

“Dean-” Emily sighed as Crowley landed on a set of shelves, causing one of the jars on it to fall and shatter.

“Listen to me-” said Dean. Emily grabbed Dean’s shoulder and dragged him away from Crowley.

“Can we not?” she asked. Dean fixed his jacket and scowled at Crowley. “We’re working.”

“Love how she keeps you in check,” whispered Crowley, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder.

“Crowley?” said Emily. The demon looked in her direction. “Shut up.” The demon didn't answer. Dean looked at him and smirked. Emily followed him past the demon trap and inside the storage unit.

“What are we looking for?” asked Emily, starting to look through the files.

“The date on dad’s diary was somewhere in 1989,” he said. “So, something about demons around that year.”

“Here.” Emily took out a file and opened it. She froze and blinked twice. Surely, she was wrong.

“What?” Dean looked in the file. Emily held up the picture of her mom that was on top of every other document in the file. Dean frowned.

“That piece of ass looks a lot like you,” said Crowley from behind the shelf.

“Wait,” said Dean. “Is that your mom?”

“Yeah,” Emily turned the picture. “This case- this is how my mom and John met.”

“So, the T didn’t stand for ‘terrible father’,” said Crowley. “It stood for-”

“Tara.” Emily flipped through the rest of the file. “Looks like they interrogated the demon, then- then they exorcised him,” she read. “And while they were doing that, he mentioned the First Blade.”

“I love it when I’m right,” said Crowley, smug. “So, where do we start?” he looked at Emily. She shrugged.

“I- Uh-” she tried to recall anything that could help them. “I- I don’t think she had a journal, and if she did- it’s probably burned with the rest of the house.”

“So, you’re telling me we hit a wall two feet into this adventure?” said Crowley. Then, Emily remembered something.

“Wait,” she said. “Back- back when my mom died, the police gave me a bunch of stuff they saved from the fire.”

“What?” said Dean.

“She- there was this box. I couldn’t open it and- John wouldn’t tell me anything, so I- I- think I forgot it at Bobby’s the first time dad left me there.”

“Okay, so where is it now?” asked Crowley.

“I mean, assuming it survived the fire, it- it would be in one of Bobby’s storage units,” said Emily. “Which, technically, are my storage units now.” Emily put her hand in her backpack and fished out her journal.

“What do you think this is?” said Emily, looking at the wooden box. “And more importantly, how do we open it?” Crowley looked at her, raised his eyebrows and flicked his finger. The box clicked open. “Oh,” said Emily. “Okay.” On top of the box was a piece of paper. She took it as Dean looked at the rest of the contents.

“It’s a spell,” said Emily. “A spell to find the first blade.” Dean looked at her. “It’s- it’s missing an ingredient.”

“What ingredient?”

“Kraken essence?” Emily read. “That can’t be real, can it?” Crowley appeared next to her, holding a jar.

For You, And Your Denial

by Yellowcard

Emily sat in the Impala and kicked away her shoes. Dean turned on the engine and pushed a cassette in. He pressed play.

“Did you get any shut-eye tonight?” he asked. Emily shook her head and leaned back into the seat, eyes closed. “Are you sure this is a good idea? The whole… finding Abaddon thing?”

“Have you got any intel on Gadreel? Because I don’t,” Emily sighed. Dean took a deep breath.

“Spare me with that, okay? I’m trying to say if you need a break-”

“I don’t need a break.” Emily answered. “You know exactly what I need, and you know full well I can’t get it. So why don’t you just- drive, okay?” Crowley appeared in the backseat.

“Dean, you really didn’t learn anything?” he asked. Dean scoffed. Emily rolled her eyes and Dean merged into the road. “By the way, while you were keeping me waiting, I got you coffee, Sheep.” The demon handed her a coffee. Emily frowned.

“You got something for me, too?” asked Dean.

“Don't be needy, Dean,” said Crowley. “I'm doing your job, at least don't be a dick about it.”

“You think bringing her coffee is doing my job?”

“She's the kid of the family, isn't she? She's supposed to be spoiled.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Are you spoiled?” Crowley looked at Emily. She raised her eyebrows and moved the coffee away towards her mouth.

Dean stopped the car in front of a farm. Emily spotted several bee hives and shivered.

“What?” asked Dean.

“Nothing.” Emily scratched her arm and grabbed her backpack.

“Are you scared of bees, Sheep?” asked Crowley.

“Can you blame me? They sting!” she complained, climbing out the car.

“You do, too, but we still hang out with you,” said the demon. Emily rolled her eyes and closed the car door on his leg. She started walking towards the house, Crowley following closely, until the demon stopped.

“Wait.” he said. Emily and Dean turned.

“What?” Emily asked, nervous.

“I’m feeling something,” said Crowley. Dean rolled his eyes and continued walking.

“Cramps?” he said. Crowley stopped him and dragged him back. Emily frowned.

“Wait,” she said. “Crowley, are you-”

“I feel something dark,” the demon continued, taking a step back.

“You’re scared? What-” Emily looked around. The only other person there was the beekeeper. “Are you scared of bees, too?” she asked.

“That’s not a beekeeper, genius, that’s the father of murder.” said Crowley. Emily turned towards him.

“Cain?” she said. The demon nodded. “You-” Emily turned towards the beekeeper and pointed at him. “That’s Cain?”

“We need to go-” said Crowley, “We need to be away from him-”

“He doesn't look that scar-” said Emily, as the demon turned. Cain appeared behind him. Emily swallowed.

“You’re not going anywhere,” said Cain.

Cain looked at her closely as she entered the house. He closed the door behind her and didn’t pay much attention to Dean or Crowley.

“You must be Emily, right?” he asked. Emily frowned.

“How d-”

“I’ll make tea. Care to join me?” Emily looked at Dean and stepped towards Cain. Dean followed her. “Not you, Dean.” Emily looked back at her brother. He swallowed.

“It’s fine,” she mouthed. Dean’s eyes hardened, but he didn’t complain as she followed Cain in the kitchen.

“Does your brother like herbal tea?” asked Cain, pointing at an array of different jars.

“I don’t think he’s ever had any,” said Emily with a grimace. Cain lit the fire under a pot full of water. Emily looked at him, rolling a strand of hair between two fingers.

“You're not scared?” Cain asked, a hint of a smile. “Why?” He was somehow right: she wasn’t scared of him. Maybe she was just numb from one too many joints, lack of sleep or excess of everything else she had going on, or maybe he knew something she didn’t.

“I- I-” As Emily tried to put her thoughts into words, Cain seemed to regret his question.

“Why don’t you pick a flavor?” he said. “They’re all written on the jars.” Emily bent towards the herbal teas. She settled on something her mother used to make all the time: chamomile and honey. “Great choice,” said Cain. “I made the honey myself.” He turned the fire under the pot off and poured the hot water into a teapot. “Can you grab those cups over there?” he pointed to a stack of white cups. Emily took them off the shelf as Cain measured the herbal tea. He then placed everything on a tray and walked out the kitchen. “Have you ever kept bees?” he asked, entering the living room where Crowley and Dean were sitting. “It’s very relaxing.” Emily sat next to Dean.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine.”

“They’re such noble creatures,” Cain continued. “And the honey? Well, I keep it right on the comb.” He handed Emily the first cup. “They’re dying, you know?” Crowley took the cup next, his hands shaking visibly. “Without bees, mankind will cease to exist.” Dean was the last one to receive a cup. “So, what are two of the Winchesters and the king of hell doing at my house?”

“You know who we are?” asked Dean.

“I’m retired, not dead,” Cain answered. He took the last cup of tea and leaned back on his couch. “What I don’t know is why you’re looking for me. More importantly, how you found me.”

“It’s a funny story, actually,” said Crowley. Emily turned towards him. “We really-” Cain shushed him and Crowley’s voice died in his throat.

“Oh, please teach me how to do that.” said Emily.

“Why are you here, Emily?” asked Cain. Emily looked at Dean and put down her cup of tea.

“We… we’re looking for the weapons the archangel used to kill the knights of hell.” she explained.

“The first blade,” said Dean. “Abaddon is back. We need to kill her.” Cain clenched his fists at the name of Abaddon, turning his ring on his finger.

“I understand you’re retired,” said Emily. “But we need your help.”

“One last time, how did you find me?” Cain asked, stretching his hand. Emily looked back at Dean’s hand: he did the same exact thing when he was nervous.

“Tracking spell for the blade,” said Dean. “No one knows we’re here, no one can replicate the spell.” Cain sighed and stood up.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure having company, but once a century is enough for me,” he said. Before Emily could talk, Dean stepped forward.

“Listen, pal,” he said. “We’re not leaving here without the blade.” Cain stopped walking. Dean looked back at Emily.

“You have quite a reputation, Dean,” said Cain. “I see the part about you being brave rings true.”

“Well, what can I say, I’m an all-in kind of guy,” Dean answered. Crowley, still unable to talk, rolled his eyes. “Abaddon is the last knight of hell, and if you’re out of the game, why the hell do you care if she dies?” Cain pointed to Crowley.

“If your friend here could talk he would tell you, I trained the knight of Hell.” said Cain. “I built that entire demonic order with my own hands. Abaddon included.” Emily turned towards Crowley, who tried to gesture something in front of him. She pushed him and he rolled his eyes again.

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” she asked. Crowley pointed to his throat. “No, before we walked in here!”

“What he doesn’t know,” said Cain. Emily scowled at Crowley and crossed her arms. “That no one knows, in fact, outside of Abaddon. It wasn’t the archangels that slaughtered the knights. It was me.”

“Why did you turn on your own?” asked Dean. Cain briefly looked at Emily.

“Dean,” Emily called, trying to get him to sit back down.

“Once again,” Cain said. “I admire your bravery. But if you’ll excuse me, I have errands to run in town.” Dean took a step towards Cain, but Emily stopped him. “Goodbye, Dean Winchester,” he said. He then looked at Emily. “Emily.”

“Okay, so- let me get this straight,” said Emily. “Your brilliant, incredible plan is to rob Cain?” Dean nodded. “I’m sorry, what part of ‘father of murder’ is hard for you to understand? He’s a big shot, what makes you think he won’t know we’re in his house?”

“Well, then I guess we’re gonna have to move fast,” said Dean. He pointed to a car pulling away from Cain's house. Emily looked at Crowley, Dean waited until the car was no longer visible and stepped out of the Impala.

“This is by far the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” said Crowley.

“I have to second this,” Emily whispered.

“Shut up and start looking, okay?” said Dean. Emily rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen. She opened all the drawers, checked for double bottoms, fake walls, then walked back to Dean.

“Nothing,” she said. Crowley and Dean where looking at a picture: they looked up. “What?”

“Take a look at this,” said Dean. Emily walked closer and looked at the woman in the frame. She resembled her mother. “Recognize the ring?” She looked at Dean and nodded, deciding to keep what she'd noticed for a later discussion.

“Yeah, Cain had a similar one on,” said Emily. “Wait, is this-”

“His wife? Yeah,” said Dean. Emily frowned. “Explains a lot, right?” The door opened. “He’s back,” he whispered. “Come on.” Emily followed Dean towards the same door they entered from, but when he tried to open it, it didn’t budge. When they turned to go out the back, they were met with Cain.

“That belongs to me,” said Cain, pointing at the picture Crowley was holding. He gave it back.

“Sorry. Lovely, by the way.” A car pulled into Cain's farm. Emily looked out the window.

“I don’t suppose they’re with you,” said Dean, pointing at Cain.

“No,” he said. “You said nobody knew where you were!” he said.

“That’s because nobody did!” Emily looked at Crowley. “How did they find us?!”

“It doesn’t matter, it’s late now,” said Dean.

“Come out, come out, Winchesters!” said a voice outside the door. “I’ve got a new master to impress and you’ll be the perfect gift!” Dean turned towards Crowley.

“Abaddon,” he said. “This lot needs to die.”

“No, there’s too many of them,” said Emily. “I count ten. At least.”

“I’m gonna barricade the doors,” said Dean. Emily followed him in the living room. “Do you have a blade?” Emily nodded.

“Yeah, but-”

“Emily, Crowley can’t zap us out of here, and they got all the exits covered,” said Dean, moving a bookshelf in front of the window. “This is happening. I hope you did your fighting homework.” Emily scoffed. “Do you have any other ideas?” She looked at him for a moment before walking back to the kitchen. Cain was sitting there, peeling corn.

“Is this what retired demons do?” she asked. Cain huffed.

“It’s what I do,” he said, picking up a corn knob.

“Look, I don’t mean to get in the way of your retirement, but we kinda need help.” she said. Cain smiled and threw away some leaves in the trash.

“You and your brother really live up to your reputations,” he said. “Him, impulsive and brave. You, his babysitter.” Emily rolled her eyes. Dean walked in the kitchen as well. He pushed the fridge in front of the door.

“Are you seriously going to sit there while we die?” asked Emily. Cain shrugged. “Speaking of reputation, you really don’t live up to yours,” she said. The door opened, the fridge moving out of the way like it was barely heavy. Two demons entered the room. Emily looked at Dean and slid the angelic blade out of her overalls. A third demon jumped through the window behind her. Emily used her powers to throw the first one away from Dean, then turned to fight the one behind her. It felt like years since she’d had her last physical fight, at least with something human, and she got hit almost immediately. Standing back up again, she saw Dean being pinned down by two demons on the table, Cain sitting next to him, doing nothing. She used her powers to free Dean and managed to stab the demon that was on her.

Dean stood up and punched one of the demons. Emily saw Ruby’s knife on the floor. She grabbed it and she was about to throw it back to Dean when a fourth demon appeared behind her and held a knife to her throat. She hit it with her head and stabbed it. Dean grabbed a towel and used it to wrap it around one of the demon’s wrists, throwing it to the ground and knocking him out. Then, he looked towards Emily and she threw the knife back at him. In a matter of seconds, one of the two remaining demons was dead. While Dean fought with the second one, Emily saw Crowley fight with a demon, and used her powers to separate them. Once Crowley had killed the demon, he stood up, fixed his jacket, and looked at Dean. Emily frowned. He gestured at her to come closer. She turned towards Dean just to see him stab the last demon. She ignored Crowley and walked back to her brother.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Dean turned, out of breath, and nodded.

“Thanks for the assist,” he said. “Are you good?” Emily nodded.

“Emily, dear, do you mind giving us a moment?” said Cain. Emily looked at Dean. He nodded and Emily walked out the kitchen and next to Crowley.

“Enjoying the show?” she asked the demon. He smirked. “I’d say thanks, but you did absolutely nothing, so-”

“Sheep, I did what I had to.” said Crowley. Emily rolled her eyes and looked back inside the kitchen.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” she asked. Dean turned around and gestured for them to enter.

“So,” said Dean. “The blade is not here.” Emily raised her eyebrows.

“What? The spell-”

“The spell brought you to the source of the blade’s power, which is me,” said Cain. Emily threw her hands in the air.

“Great,” she sighed. Cain pulled up his sleeve to reveal a mark on his arm. Crowley took a step back, scared, and he signed the cross.

“Dude,” said Emily. “What the hell’s going on with you?”

“That’s the bloody mark of Cain.” the demon said. Emily looked back at Cain’s arm.

“From Lucifer himself,” he explained. “The mark and the blade work together, without the mark, the blade is useless. It’s just an old bone.”

“The old bone, as in… the bone? The one you used to kill Abel?” asked Emily. “Because he was God’s favourite?”

“Abel wasn’t talking to God,” answered Cain. “He was talking to Lucifer.”

“What?” asked Dean. Emily crossed her arms.

“He was being corrupted, so-”

“You sold your soul,” said Emily. She looked at Dean. “You sold your soul, went to hell, so that Abel could be saved.” Dean frowned, confused. Cain sighed.

“Your sister’s right, Dean,” he said. “Lucifer had one condition. I was the one to send Abel to heaven.” Emily dragged her hand across her face. “My knights and I- we did horrible things.” continued Cain. “For centuries.” Emily looked back at the picture they had looked at before. Cain had placed it back on the shelf, where it belonged.

“And then you met her,” she said. Cain turned towards the picture, too.

“She knew who I was, what I was.” Tears pushed on Emily’s eyes, she crossed her arms and dug her nails into palm. Dean looked back at her for a moment. “She loved me unconditionally.” Cain turned back to look at Emily. “She only asked for one thing in return.”

“To stop,” said Crowley. Cain sighed. Emily walked a few steps away and put her hands on the table.

“When the knights found out, they took retribution. They took Colette, so I picked the first blade back up, and it felt so good to have it in my hands again and I slaughtered the knights of hell.”

“Not all of them,” said Dean.

“No,” Cain continued. “Abaddon was possessing Colette. When I could bring myself to kill her, she smoked out.” he explained. “She made me promise. No more killing.” Emily dried her face.

“Well, I’m sorry,” said Dean. “Truly. But I have to stop Abaddon.”

“Dean-” Emily called. Dean didn't look at her.

“So where’s the blade?” he asked instead.

“No,” said Cain. He tried to walk away, but Dean followed him and grabbed him by the shoulder. He pinned him to a wall and threatened him with Ruby’s knife.

“You may be done killing, but I’m not,” said Dean. Cain didn’t seem scared, or angry. Maybe, just mildly inconvenienced.

“You never give up on anything, do you?” asked Cain.

“Never,” said Dean.

“Well, I do.” Cain reached out towards Emily and suddenly, she found herself in a cemetery. Cain remained silent and kneeled next to a grave. Emily read the headstone. It was Colette.

“Sit here with me,” said Cain. Emily looked around and kneeled next to him, drying her face from the tears. “Do you pray?”

“Not really,” she whispered. “Why- Why am I-”

“I’ve tried,” said Cain. “I tried to see myself like Colette saw me.” Emily remained silent. “But I know who I am. Do you know who you are, Emily?” Emily opened her mouth to answer a couple of times, but closed it back up. She frowned, unable to answer. “Do you think you’re like Dean?” Okay, that was easier.

“No, I- I don’t think so,” she said. “I mean, not- not in a bad way, I- I- I’m just… different.”

“You know, people who go to heaven, they watch over us,” said Cain. Emily crossed her arms. “So, I came here to ask the people who watch over me, to look away for a moment.”

“Why?” asked Emily. A bad feeling creeped inside of her, navigating her guts.

“The mark can be transferred to someone who’s worthy,” he explained. Emily frowned. “Someone who’s a killer.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “I'm not- I'm not a killer.”

“Tonight, when you and Dean were fighting you only used your powers to defend Dean, never to defend yourself,” he said. Emily tried to answer. “He’s the killer. You keep him safe.”

“Wh-”

“I’m going to give the mark to your brother.”

“What?!”

“It comes with a great cost. A great burden. It will be hungry,” Cain said. It was a warning, but that was not all it was.

“The mark will be hungry?” she asked, confused.

“Emily, you need to keep Dean safe. Stop him, if it ever comes to that,” said Cain. Emily tried to protest. “You’re the only one who can.”

“No, wait-” before she could finish talking, Cain touched and she was back in the house next to Dean.

“What the hell?” said Dean, noticing Cain on the other side of the room. “You in or out? I’m getting head spins.” Emily stood next to Crowley.

“I can give you the mark, Dean, if that’s what you truly want,” said Cain. Emily crossed her arms and looked behind Crowley, a horde of demons running towards the house.

“What are you talking about?” asked Dean.

“The mark can be transferred to someone who’s worthy,” Cain explained. Emily closed her eyes.

“You mean a killer, like you?”

“Yes.” The demons started hitting the doors.

“Can I use it to kill that bitch?”

“Yes,” Cain repeated. “But you have to know, with the mark comes a great burden.” he said. “Some would call it a great cost.” Dean looked back at Emily and then put his knife back in his inside pocket.

“Spare me the warning label,” he said. “You had me at ‘kill the bitch’.” Cain looked at Dean, then at Emily.

“Good luck,” he sighed. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Let’s get it over with,” said Dean, looking back, where more demons were trying to get through the door. Emily grabbed her angel blade and took a step back as Cain transferred the mark to Dean.

“Guys, we gotta hurry it up,” she said. Dean took a deep breath.

“Where the hell did you stash the damn blade?” he asked.

“Nothing can destroy the blade,” said Cain. “So I threw it to the bottom of the deepest ocean.” Emily looked over at Crowley, who rolled his eyes. “It’s the only way I could keep my promise to Colette.”

“Guys!” called Emily, seeing the door hinges starting to come off .

“You find the blade, kill Abaddon, but make me a promise first,” said Cain. Dean looked at him. “When I call you, and I will call, you come find me and use the blade on me.”

“Why?”

“For what I’m about to do.” That said, Cain snapped his fingers and Emily found herself next to the Impala. The demons all ran into the house, which lit up in a red light.

“Okay, I guess this is the time we run, right?” asked Crowley.

Emily, who was trying to sleep in the back of the Impala, opened her eyes as Dean stopped the car.

“He was right, you know,” said Crowley. Emily dragged a hand across her face. “You are worthy.”

“Oh, great, now you’re gonna get all touchy-feely, too? Is it contagious or something?” asked Dean, looking back to Emily.

“Your problem, mate, is that nobody hates you more than you do,” said Crowley.

“That is weirdly accurate,” said Emily.

“What happened to you?” asked Dean. “Where did he bring you?”

“He brought me to Colette’s grave,” she said. “He- he said he was going to give you the mark and that- that I’m supposed to keep you safe.”

“You?” Dean turned. Emily shrugged.

“Yeah, dude- that’s what he said, I- I don’t know.”

“Now that’s just great,” he said and stepped out of the car. Crowley did the same. “Crowley, you know I saw you, right? You did nothing to help us. You-”

“You knew!” said Emily, sitting up and following Dean. “That’s why you were just watching, that’s why you wanted me to step away!” Crowley shrugged.

“He would never have given me the blade,” said the demon. “But nobody can say no to Dean and Emily Winchester.”

“Let me guess, you also knew we were being followed,” said Dean.

“Yes. Cain would want to see his prize fighter up close,” he explained. “And surely, if he knew he had someone to look after him like a bloody babysitter, he would have been more… open to the possibility of giving you the mark.” Dean looked away for a moment and then punched Crowley.

“After I kill Abaddon, you’re next,” he said, massaging his hand.

“Nah. We’re having so much fun. Me and Emily are practically besties now.”

“Don’t push it,” said Emily. “You're still on the list.”

“You know, even with the mark, we’re gonna need all the help we can get,” said Crowley. Emily looked at Dean, then at Crowley. “How about we give good ol’ Moose a call?”

“Sam’s out of the game, you hear me?” she said. “You as much as say his name, I’ll show you what Azazel left me. And trust me, it’s not funny.”

“Scary,” said Crowley, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I’m not gonna get in between your family drama, Sheep. I was just giving you advice.”

“Advice refused.” she said. “Now go find the blade.”

Feed The Machine

by Poor Man’s Poison

Emily stepped into the Bunker and took a deep breath. It wasn’t an easy decision, but living out of motels and the Impala for two months was enough. Not only they didn’t have a good enough reason to keep doing it, Emily actually felt guilty. The only reason they had been away from the only place they ever called home was because she didn’t want to go back. And she still didn’t, but Dean wouldn’t compromise on leaving her alone. Maybe he was right, maybe she needed the company so she wouldn’t completely spiral, but she also knew how much he liked the Bunker and how much it meant for him to finally have a stable roof over his head. So, she just had to deal with it.

“You good?” Dean asked, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. Emily looked at him and sighed.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I just need a second.” She looked down in the bunker. Sam had been there. His laptop was on the table and his jacket was thrown on a chair. Dean walked past it and disappeared out of her sight. Emily walked back to her room and flicked the light switch upwards. Yellow-ish light flooded the room, and it was like time had stopped for the previous two months. A pile of Kevin’s notebooks was leaning off the desk, ready to fall the first time someone as much as walked by it, and a pair of used socks were absorbing dust in a corner. A few beer bottles were peeking from under the bed after rolling down there, that time Kevin decided pizza had to go with beer, but it was really just an excuse to get drunk. That night, they’d fallen asleep holding hands like teenagers, a phase of life either of them probably never had enough of. She picked the beer bottle off the floor and looked at it. Her hand moved faster than she could realize, and she threw it across the room and towards the door. Only, the door was open and the bottle missed Sam’s face by a couple inches, shattering on the wall behind him. He looked at it and sighed.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asked, opening her bag and trying not to look at him too long.

“I- I wanted to talk to you,” he whispered. Emily scoffed.

“Well, I don’t,” she answered, emptying her bag on the bed. The paper bag in which Kevin had put the sandwich he’d made her a month before, while they were fighting, fell out, spreading crumbs on her clothes. She looked at it, licked her lips, and then at Sam. “Samuel, get out of my fucking room.” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see your face or hear your voice, you should be thankful I haven’t shot you!” Dean appeared behind Sam, alarmed. “You think saying a weak little sorry is going to fix anything?”

“No, but-”

“There’s no but, Samuel, you- I don’t think you realize what you’ve done, okay?” Sam looked away and sniffled. “And you can cry all you want, but that’s not going to change that. I was going to die. I was okay with it. Trials or not.”

“Well, I wasn’t. Ever thought of that?” Sam said. Emily looked at her, hand holding the crumpled bag.

“Oh, really?” she yelled. “Really?!” Sam looked away. “I thought caring if someone dies was selfish, I thought that made me ‘just like Dean’!” Dean looked at Sam and frowned. “Here I was, thinking you’d know to let me go, because ‘if you cared about me you’d let me go’! Right?!” Sam looked away. “What? Don't you remember saying that to me? At least I had a good reason to die!”

“That's different,” Sam said. Emily looked at him and sighed. “You-”

“Different how?!” Emily yelled. “I opened the damned gates, I should have the right to kill myself to close them!”

“Why?” asked Sam, crossing his arms. Emily shook her head. “Why did you open them?”

“To try and get you back,” she said.

“Okay, so you fucked up the entire world, everybody’s life, just to bring me back.” he said. “And it didn't even work.” Emily looked away. “How am I the bad guy here?”

“Because Kevin’s dead, Samuel!” she yelled. “If you’d let me die, he’d be fine now!”

“Are you sure?” said Sam. “You really think you’d have died and he’d just… forget all about it?”

“You know what? M

aybe!” Emily yelled. “He’d have gone back to his old life, he’d have gone to college, and eventually- eventually I’d just be the fucking dead girl!” Dean dragged a hand through his face. ”Instead, I’ll always be the worst thing that ever happened to him! Because he’s fucking dead!” Emily looked at Sam, but Dean’s hand stopped midway through his hair. He looked at Sam.

“Wait,” he said. “The night he went to the church, how did he even get out of here?” Sam looked away. “You were supposed to watch him, how-” Emily looked at Dean and understood what he was thinking about.

“You let him go,” Emily said. “He thought he’d tricked you, but you did it on purpose, you- you let him go!” Sam’s mouth shut close. Emily’s blood boiled and she put a hand on her gun. Dean stopped her and stood in front of her.

“Emily, calm down,” he said, holding Emily’s hand away from the gun.

“I couldn’t let you die, okay?” said Sam. “And I knew- he was the only one who could bring you back alive.”

“Dean, move,” Emily said, trying to push past him. “Let me go!”

“Let me handle this, okay?” Dean said. “Don’t do this, Emily.” Emily looked at him, and Cain’s words came back to her. Dean was the killer, and she was the one supposed to keep him safe. She let Dean take the gun away from her and walked back into her room, slamming the door so hard the floor shook. She ignored Sam’s voice calling her from across the Bunker and went back to the stuff on her bed. Coming back had been a horrible idea. Coming back meant moving on, which meant living with all those things that reminded her of Kevin. It meant sleeping in the same place they’d slept, eating where they laughed, and living life with the ghost of what could have been. She stared at the crumbs on her bed. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t sleep there. The door cracked open, Dean letting himself in.

“Where’s Sam?” she whispered. Dean sighed and walked to the end of the bed, putting both his hands on the frame.

“Gone,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he would be here, he told me he was in Montana.”

“Look,” Emily sighed. “I get it if you want to go with him, I’m sure he’s going to be more useful than me against Abaddon.” she said. Dean walked closer to her.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked. Emily shook her head. “We don’t need Sam, okay? We can do this on our own.”

“Dean-”

“I’m serious,” said Dean. Emily looked at him. He was choosing her over Sam, and that had never happened before.

“Dean, I don’t know if this was a good idea,” she whispered. Dean looked down at all her stuff thrown on the bed. “I think I could have used some more time.”

“You wanna go back?” he asked. Emily shook her head, tears starting to stream off my face. “Okay, what do you wanna do then?”

“I- I don’t know,” she whispered. She dried her face with her sleeve. “But I know we have to stick together.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only person I have left, Dean,” she said. She shook her head. “Look, I know this isn’t us.” She picked up her head and looked at him. “But I could really use an older brother right now.” Dean looked at her. She had no idea what was going on in his mind, what he was thinking, but after a few seconds, he hugged her. It was weird, but her body didn’t reject it like it used to. It was like he had untied a knot that was keeping her together, and she started sobbing.

The weeks in the bunker were slow. Painful. Emily went out with Dean for a few cases, and she found it didn’t give her much satisfaction. Nothing much did, not anymore. The high of killing something lasted a few minutes, an hour at times, but then she’d just go back to feeling like she was missing something. Like she had unfinished business somewhere. She was finally understanding why ghosts went violent after a while. Not being able to finish something you care about was a feeling she didn’t wish upon anybody. Her unfinished business was Kevin, and the promise he’d made him that they were going to leave and have a normal life. It was college and a real job and a house that wasn’t covered in books about the supernatural. It was a promise she was never going to fulfill, because Kevin was dead. Her phone buzzed, and it was Crowley. She rolled her eyes and turned it upside down. Getting hit up twice a day for blood was starting to get old. She didn’t even get anything back from it, seeing he wasn’t looking for the First Blade. He was too busy getting high and having sex to do that. Dean walked into the kitchen as Emily’s phone buzzed again.

“Have you heard from Crowley?” he asked. “Like… at all?”

“No,” she lied, standing up to pour herself some coffee. “Did he call you?”

“Just a drunk dial, nothing useful,” he said. “I’m not even sure he actually said anything.”

“You know how he is, he’s gonna take his sweet time with this,” Emily answered. Dean poured himself some coffee, too, and leaned on the kitchen counter.

“Well, I’m gonna get that info one way or the other,” he said. “I’m heading to a crossroads, you wanna come?”

“Uh, no,” she sighed. “I- I think I’ll stay here, look up some stuff on Gadreel.”

“Alright, then,” Dean said, finishing the coffee and leaving the mug next to the sink. “I’ll text you if something comes up, okay?” Emily nodded and Dean left the room. She waited a few seconds, then picked up her phone to answer Crowley.

Give me a couple of hours

Emily walked into the hotel room and groaned, overwhelmed by a strong cologne and sweat odor.

“How about we open a window?” she asked. Crowley turned towards her for a second and didn’t answer, invested in a movie on the pay-per-view. The two girls who were sitting at the table, naked, raised her eyebrows.

“I didn’t know we were expecting a fourth person, my king,” said one of the two with a smirk. Emily looked at her and raised her eyebrows.

“Sorry,” she answered. “You look good, but that’s not what I’m here for.” The girl pouted and opened a bottle of nail polish. The smell of it mixed with the already persistent smell. “Make this quick, okay?” Crowley pointed at a pile of empty blood bags on the floor. Emily pulled up a chair and sat in front of the TV. She started drawing blood, the bag getting fuller by the second, and Crowley started crying. “Dude,” she sighed. “To Casablanca? Seriously?”

“Don’t judge me, Sheep,” Crowley said, drying his face. “Having feelings is hard!”

“You telling me that?” she asked. She blood filled all the way and she handed it to him. “Look, this is fun and all, but Dean’s gonna get suspicious.”

“No he won’t,” Crowley said. “Because you’ll be careful.”

“How about we make up a deal?” she asked. “I bring you the blood, you give me something back in exchange.”

“Like what, exactly?” he asked. “Let me guess, drugs?” Emily sighed. “Oh, Emily, you little junkie,” Crowley smirked. “How long have you been hiding this from your brother?”

“I’m not a junkie,” Emily said. “I need to do my job, and I can’t do that if I have three panic attacks a day.”

“Sure, sure, you need it, I’ve seen House MD, I know where this is going,” the demon said. Emily rolled her eyes. “So, what’s your poison, Sheep? I can get you as much weed as you want.”

“That’s not gonna cut it,” she said. “It barely works anymore.” Crowley stood up from the bed to inject himself with the blood. He looked at Emily and frowned.

“How about some diazepam?” he asked. “That should solve your problems right up.” Emily looked at the demon, then bit the inside of her cheek. Benzoes definitely worked to keep her calm. But did she really want to go down that route? She could have just found a better way to deal with it. She was about to say no, but then she remembered the sleepless nights, the uncontrollable crying, thinking she was going to suffocate, die, the dizziness and her hands going numb, the frustration of never being fully fine, and the urge to hurt herself. “You thinking pills or liquid?”

“Pills,” she sighed. “Crowley, Dean can’t find out.” The demon looked at her and moved his hand towards her. She shook it.

“See you next time tomorrow?” Crowley asked. Emily rolled her eyes and nodded. “Don’t be late.” Emily walked towards the door. “Sheep, wait,” she turned. “Can you take care of something for me?”

“What do you want?” she asked. Crowley gestured at her to come closer. She walked back to him. He leaned in.

“Her,” he whispered, pointing at the girl doing her nails on the other side of the suite.

“I’m not having sex with her,” Emily complained. “You were inside of her like- ten minutes ago, that’s disgusting!”

“Not what I meant,” he said. Emily frowned. Crowley mimicked a stabbing with his hands.

“What?” Emily asked, frowning. “Why don’t you do it?”

“Oh, come on, Sheep,” he said. “I know you like it. It’s in your nature.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Emily asked. The whispering attracted the girl’s attention. Emily smiled at her and she went back to blowing on her nail polish.

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” the demon said. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows. Crowley mimicked the stabbing again.

“What about the other girl?” Emily asked.

“Pet?” he called. The second girl looked up at him. “Do you mind giving us a minute?” The girl stood up and smirked as she picked up her underwear from the floor and walked towards the exit.

“Have fun,” she whispered to Emily while she walked out. Emily groaned. Crowley looked at her and pointed at the remaining girl.

“Can you at least tell me why?” Emily sighed.

“She ratted me out to Abaddon,” he whispered. “She has to go.” Emily rolled her eyes and took her angel blade from the back of her overalls. She flipped it into her hand, walked towards the demon, and killed her. She cleaned her hands from the blood on her legs and walked back to Crowley

“Can I go now?” she asked. “Or do you need me to kill someone else first?”

“I like your style, Sheep,” the demon said. “Azazel was right about you.”

“Okay,” Emily sighed and rolled her eyes. “See you tomorrow.”

Emily sat in her room, listening to music, when she heard the Bunker door slam close. She stood up and walked to see Dean climbing down the stairs.

“So?” she asked. “Did you get it?” she asked. Dean shook his head. “What the hell happened? I thought you said-”

“Yeah, well, I had it for a second, but Crowley took it from me.”

“He…” Emily frowned. “Why?”

“He knows I’m gonna use it on him,” Dean sighed, walking past her and to the kitchen. “Look, it’s… it was a long day, okay? I’ll call him, get it back, and we go do some redhead killing.” Emily nodded. Dean moved a glass towards her. “Want some?”

“Uh, no-” she said. She couldn’t drink, not with diazepam running through her system. “I just had some earlier, I’m fine.” Dean held up the bottle in front of him, checking the level. He shrugged and filled his glass. “I’m- I’m gonna head into town for some supplies, you need anything?” Dean shook his head and Emily walked towards the garage. She texted Crowley to meet her at the usual spot and sat into the Ford Thunderbird. She started it up.

Crowley greeted her with the usual slimy smile and Emily drew the blood bag out of her backpack without saying a word.

“Where are your manners, Sheep?” the demon asked. Emily didn’t answer. “Don’t be like that.”

“Dude, I know you have the Blade, don’t play dumb with me,” Emily said, blood already dripping into the bag. She clenched her fist and the flow got faster.

“But did your brother tell you why I took it?” the demon asked. Emily shook her head. “The more he holds it, the more he's gonna want to kill,” Crowley explained. “And once he starts killing, it's gonna be really hard for him to stop.”

“Right,” Emily said. “You're doing this out of the goodness of your heart because you are such a nice person.”

“I know,” Crowley answered. “I am surprised myself.” Emily waited for the blood to be filled, and handed it to Crowley. He put a hand into his pocket and handed her a yellow bottle labeled diazepam. He also handed her a joint. “Just a gift,” he explained. “Feel free to sit down and enjoy it.” Emily took a pill, then put the joint between her lips and lit it up. Crowley sat down on a chair, and Emily sat on the floor next to him. “If I needed help with something, let's say… some business I am running, would you be able to help?”

“Depends on what you want me to do,” Emily sighed.

“I don't need you to kill anybody, that's Dean's job,” the demon said. “Just… some stuff I can't ask Dean because he would be insufferable about it.”

“Fine,” she said. “But you're paying me.”

Emily woke up still tired. She looked through the darkness of her room and saw a light coming from her phone. She ignored it. Dean was in the Bunker with her, and Crowley was for sure still asleep. Who else could ever be calling her? If it was Sam, maybe it was better if the call went to voicemail instead of her answering. She didn’t have it in her to fight with him again. Sometimes it felt like she’d spent her entire life fighting with someone, when all she wanted was just quiet. She’d gotten plenty of that ever since Sam had left the Bunker. Dean was far from happy of Sam being gone, though he insisted they didn’t talk with him. She was starting to see how maybe Dean had been doing more for her than she realized. An entire life hating on him, but he’d always come around when she needed the most and she was starting to see it. He was the one who drove her somewhere safe when she was fifteen and had just cost them their only shot at Azazel, he was the one that saved her from roaming around in vampire-infested woods. It was him that medicated her arms and hid them from John. And he did all that without any telepathy, without ever knowing what she was feeling, just on instincts alone. He just knew what to do when nobody else did. Maybe he didn’t take all the right turns, maybe in trying to help her he’d been an asshole, sometimes he just acted like an asshole, but he wasn’t an asshole, not really. She had her share of fault in everything that happened, and even where she didn’t, she understood why he acted like he did. She was also a violent asshole when she was angry. So maybe it wasn’t the demon blood, or anything else she’d tried using as an excuse her entire life, it was just her. Maybe she was the problem. At that point in time, unable to sleep for more than an hour, crying half the time and staring into anything the other half, she definitely was the problem. But while the Bunker may have been quiet, her mind wasn’t. Not until her exchange with Crowley started happening. A bag of blood for half a bottle of Valium. That was the deal, and Crowley saw it through. That made it a lot more quiet. Her phone lit up again, but she didn’t move. She was still trying to get rid of the images of her nightmare, she didn’t want to talk to anybody. A few minutes later, she heard Dean’s voice down the hallway.

“I don’t know, Cas, okay? Maybe she’s sleeping,” he said, his voice getting closer. Emily took a deep breath. The door opened. “Yeah, she’s here, you can talk to her.” Dean handed the phone towards her and sighed.

“Hey Cas,” she said, her voice coming out deeper than she was expecting. She cleared her throat.

“Dean?” the angel asked. Emily frowned.

“No, Cas, it’s me,” she said. “I have the phone now.”

“Oh,” Castiel remained quiet for a while while Emily sat up in her bed. “You sounded a lot like Dean does in the mornings.” She looked at Dean and smirked. He rolled his eyes. “I need to speak with you.”

“Yeah well, you’re doing it right now, so, what’s up?” she asked.

“I have important news regarding your search for Gadreel,” he said. The sleep lifted off of Emily’s body. “I think we should talk about this in person.”

“Uh- yeah, definitely,” she said, looking at Dean again. “Text Dean the address, okay? We’ll be there.”

Emily walked in the building, and it was not what she’d been expecting. The places they met at were usually warehouses, abandoned buildings, places were black mold was having a field trip and touching anything out of the ordinary would probably grant a night in the ER. Not that time. Emily double checked the address on Dean’s phone, looking at an office building in downtown Lebanon. It was a full-on working office. The angel who opened the door said “The commander is waiting for you,” and she didn't ask questions. Not on account of not having any, on account of being too stunned to speak. She walked behind the angel, Dean following closely, past a huge map which seemed to mark spots in the country and then inside an office. Castiel was sitting behind a desk, waiting for them. The angel that escorted her hesitated into the room. Castiel looked at him for a long moment.

“Uh- dismissed?” he said. The angel nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Looks like you're a big shot around here,” she said, looking around the office. Castiel shrugged.

“It wasn’t my idea,” he said. “They insisted on following me.” The angel sighed and walked towards her. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Most of the pain is gone,” she said. “I’m fine.” Castiel looked at her and frowned.

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, I can stand for more than three seconds without passing out, so yeah, I’m fine,” she said. Castiel looked at her and sighed.

“Cas, why are we here?” Dean asked.

“I have two things for you,” the angel said. “The first one, is I know from a sure source that Gadreel is working for Metatron.” Emily looked at Dean and crossed her arms. “And second, I was wondering if you’d lend a hand with our fight against them.”

“Is that a question?” Emily asked. “I’ve been waiting months to put my hands on him.”

“I’m actually planning a diplomatic option,” Castiel said. Emily looked back at Dean, who huffed.

“I’m pretty sure you got the wrong guys,” he said. “We don’t do diplomacy.”

“I know,” the angel said. “That’s why I called you here.” Emily put her hands on the back of a chair and sighed. “We have a prisoner from Metatron’s inner circle. I need to know what they’re planning, but he hasn’t revealed anything.”

“So, you want us to torture him?” Emily asked. Castiel nodded. “Well, I’m down for it, but I don’t know-”

“Where is he?” Dean said. Emily turned. She looked at Dean, then at Castiel. The angel frowned.

“I didn’t think you’d accept,” he said. Dean shrugged. The angel stood up and walked closer to Dean, narrowing his eyes. “You feel different.”

“I don’t,” Dean said. “What? He’s a bad guy, okay? I-” The angel interrupted him by grabbing his arm and pulling up his sleeve.

“What did you do?” asked the angel, frowning. Dean shoved his arm back and sighed. “Dean-”

“Lay off of me, okay? It’s a means to an end,” Dean answered. “We need a way to kill Abaddon, and this is it.” Castiel looked at him and didn’t answer. Not in a ‘that’s fine’ way. More in a ‘we’ll talk about this later’ way. The room remained quiet until Dean cleared his voice and talked again. “Where’s this guy?”

Emily followed an angel to a locked room, Dean walking a few steps ahead. She stopped, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She took it and read the message. More blood, other side of town. Dean turned.

“What?”

“I- uh-” Emily hesitated and put away her phone. “I left something at home that I need to go get,” she said. Dean frowned.

“Now?” he asked. “Kid, we've never been closer to finding Gadreel.” Emily looked at him.

“Yeah, I- I know,” she said. “Just… I’ll be back in like half an hour, okay? I need- I need to go get my laptop.”

“What do you need your laptop for?!” Dean asked. “We're about to go torture this guy for info, what are you gonna do, take notes?”

“Dean, I have alerts for sightings of Gadreel on it, okay? I need to check it, just in case.” Dean rolled his eyes, but nodded.

“Fine, but make it quick, okay?” Emily nodded and rushed out of the building. Crowley called her and she answered while sitting in the Impala.

“What do you want, Crowley? I'm in the middle of something!” she asked.

“Me too, and I am running out of juice!” he complained. “What’s taking you so long?!”

“I said I was in the middle of something!” she repeated. “Give me ten minutes, okay?”

“Hurry it up, Sheep, I need that stuff!” Emily rolled her eyes and drove towards the meet up spot. Same old hotel, same old slimy smile. Emily put the pills in her pocket, drew the blood, handed it to the demon and drove back to the office. Dean was just walking out.

“So?” asked Emily, walking towards him. “You got the info?” Dean nodded.

“Yeah, thanks for the help, by the way,” he rolled his eyes. Emily crossed her arms. “Metatron’s angels are using a portal to enter heaven. It's a traveling portal. I don't think he knew where it is right now.” he explained. Emily sighed and threw her hands up.

“Great,” she groaned. “Just what I needed, another damn thing to look for.” Dean said something but she didn't hear it. Another damn thing to look for. Where had she heard that before? Another damn thing to look for- Oh, Harry Potter. She put a hand on her phone, her first thought going to ‘I gotta tell Kevin’, but then froze. Dean looked at her.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked. Emily nodded and tried to answer, but no sound came out. Her hand shook as she tried to open the car door. She sat in the passenger’s seat and closed her eyes. The door on Dean's side slammed, the car shaking back and forth. Emily took a deep breath. That would have been the perfect time to take one of the pills Crowley had given her. But she couldn't. Not with Dean right there. She had to tough it out until they were back in the Bunker. Dean drove back towards the Bunker, glancing at her as she tried to keep the tears at bay. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” she whispered. “I'm fine, keep driving.”

Emily walked out of the car and into the garage as quickly as she could, the safety belt snapping back into the car. She walked to her room before Dean could catch up to her and leaned on the door. She slid to the floor, hand inside her pocket looking for the yellow bottle. She swallowed a pill and took a deep breath. She could keep it at bay until it kicked in. She could. Emily waited for the door to Dean's room to close and then lit up a joint. In the following five minutes, everything went quiet again. All she had to do from that moment on was to never think about Harry Potter again. She could do it, right? As her breathing went back to normal and her hands relaxed, her phone buzzed again. She dried her face and answered.

“What do you want, Crowley?!” she asked. “It’s literally only been two hours, do I look like a blood bank or something?”

“Oops,” the demon said. “Wrong fast dial.” He closed the call and Emily let her head back, hitting the door. Half a minute later, she heard Dean’s door open and the clicking of keys.

“Yeah, we’re on our way,” he said. “Sure, okay, send it over.” Dean knocked on her door. No, no, no, Emily thought, standing up. This place reeks of weed and I can barely stand. “We’re heading back out,” Dean said through the closed door. “Put out that shit and meet me at the garage.” Emily frowned at the door for a second. Did Dean know? Emily took a step towards the door and opened it, holding on to the doorframe to stand.

“Goddamnit,” Dean said, covering his nose. “You look terrible, dude,”

“What’s going on?” she asked, squeezing her burning eyes.

“This is the worst moment for you to get high,” Dean complained. “Crowley said he can give us Abaddon and he sent over the location of the blade.” He shook his phone in front of her. “Think you can handle that?”

“Sure,” she said, one leg giving out. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Five minutes,” he said. Emily left the door open and went back to take her bag.

“Don’t need five minutes,” she said. Dean looked at her and raised his eyebrows. He took something from his pocket and threw it towards her. It fell to the floor before Emily could figure out what he was doing. “I said-”

“Emily, what the hell are you doing?” he asked. “I know you got it rough, but isn’t this a little extreme?” Emily rolled her eyes.

“Would you rather I was stuck in my bed crying all day?” she asked. “Or that I had a panic attack in the middle of a job?” Dean shook his head. “I said I don’t need five minutes, let’s go.”

Emily slept through the drive, barely realizing they had stopped to get the blade. She saw Dean bring it back covered in a cloth and put it in the back, and went back to sleeping. She woke up halfway through Cleveland.

“Well look who’s awake,” Dean said, staring at the road. Emily dragged a hand through her face.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she asked. “I could have hel-”

“I don’t need your help digging up a blade.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Look, you know we’re gonna have to talk about this, right?” he asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Emily said, sitting up straighter. Dean’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. She was in trouble.

“Are you sure?” he asked. Emily didn’t answer. Dean put a hand in his pocket and threw her the pill bottle she used to have in her pocket earlier.

“Did you go through my pockets?!” Emily complained. “Why-”

“It fell out while you were sleeping,” Dean said. “But I didn’t need that, I know someone high on weed when I see them, and that wasn’t you.” Emily crossed her arms and shook her head. “Don’t give me the attitude, okay? Popping something when you can’t sleep is one thing, we all do it, but you could barely walk!”

“Okay, and? I’m here, right?!”

“What if there wasn’t a four hour drive for you to sleep in?!” Dean asked. “Also- You’re mixing stuff? You know how dangerous that is?”

“Do you?” Emily asked. “I know what I’m doing!”

“And it shows!” Dean yelled. “Look, I don’t care how you deal, but you need to be able to do your job, you get me?”

“I am able to do my job!” Emily yelled. “I just- I just thought we were home, there was no way we were gonna head out again!”

“But we did!” Dean said. Emily didn’t answer. “Goddamnit, Emily…” he sighed. Emily bit the inside of her cheek and stayed silent until he parked in front of Crowley’s hotel. “Crowley said he saw some demons go into the basement, you check there, I’ll take the main floor.” He hid the first blade in his jacket and walked inside. Emily walked towards the stairs that led to the basement and started climbing down. The door slammed behind her. How was she going to get out of Dean knowing about the drugs? He was going to watch her, he was going to check her, of course he was, and he wasn’t gonna let anything slide. From that moment on, Emily was certain anything wrong she did, Dean would have thought she was high. That she’d taken something. He was paranoid like that. Just like when she’d benched her for months when she was fifteen. Emily opened the door at the end of the basement and found it empty. She already was benched. There was never anything down there, Dean knew. Emily was half asleep when Crowley had called Dean, but the call couldn’t have lasted more than three seconds. There was no way he gave him not only the address but also intel on where demons were in the building. Which meant Dean had sent her down there on purpose. Emily turned around and ran up the stairs, up to where she’d left Dean, and then up one more floor. She opened the door. Dean’s body hit the wall next to her and she flinched.

“Look, Dean,” said Abaddon, looking at her through the dark room. Dean turned, confused. “Your sister has come to see you die.” Emily felt a force dragging her towards Abaddon and then back into the wall as well, and she couldn’t react. Landing the hit with a groan, Emily tried to set herself free with her powers but only managed to move her hand a couple of inches. “Your tricks aren’t going to work with me, Emily, I’m out of your league.” Dean fell off the wall and walked towards Abaddon, who turned towards her, surprised. Emily used that second of distraction to force herself free. She fell to the floor and rolled an ankle, and when she looked up, Abaddon was falling to the ground in a pool of blood. Emily stood up and took a step towards Dean. He stabbed her again. Then again.

“Dean,” she called. He didn’t turn, and stabbed Abaddon’s body again. “Dean!” Emily walked closer. “Dean, stop!” The mark on his arm was lighting up, warm light illuminating the blood spraying everywhere. Emily grabbed his arm and stopped him. It was hot. Way too hot for it to be normal. The second her hands touched his arm, he stopped and looked at her. “She’s dead,” she said, taking the Blade from him. “It’s over.”

“Care to tell me what the hell’s going on with you?” Emily asked, sitting next to Dean in the car. He didn’t answer. “Hey, you don’t get to yell at me for doing drugs and then get out of jail free, that mark is doing something to you!”

“No it’s not,” he said, starting the car. “I just wanted her dead.”

“You think I’m stupid or something?” Emily asked. “You think Cain didn’t warn me this would happen?” Dean turned towards her and sighed.

“I had to do it alone,” he said. “I don’t expect you to get it.”

“No, what I understand is that you don’t think I can do this!” she complained. “Look, Cain gave me a job, okay? He gave it to me for a reason!”

“And what reason is that?” Dean asked, pulling a cassette out of the radio.

“I don’t know, Dean, but I can’t just ignore the fact that the Blade does something to you, something I don’t like!” Emily said, handing him the box of cassettes. Dean picked one without looking and pushed it in. He pressed play. “Do I have to take it from you?”

“No,” Dean answered.

“Fine,” she said. “I let you do your thing, but you let me do mine.”

“That’s not how this works, okay? You- you don’t get it, you-”

“And you do?” Emily asked. “I don’t know how you feel when you hold the blade, but I know once you have it you can’t put it down!”

“So what you’re saying is that I’m an addict?!” Dean asked. Emily looked at him and he glanced at her, eyes quickly getting back on the road. “Fine. But don’t show up to work high.”

“Fine.”

Emily entered her car with the end of a joint still in her fingers. Dean had figured out she was using, but he didn’t know about Crowley. Which was a good thing, because he would have put an end to that very quickly, and she really didn’t want to bother looking for a dealer in Lebanon. Too small of a city, word would spread way too fast and she wanted to keep the few friendly people in that place. With Abaddon dead, the only case they had to work on was Gadreel and Metatron. Finding them, especially. There had been no sign of them or any of their followers anywhere in weeks. The lead they had about a moving portal had gone to nowhere, and Castiel had been missing in action. She had to take matters into her own hands, but she didn’t know how. The first place to start had to be Castiel’s office. She parked next to it and entered, the usual angel greeting her. She’d come to learn a couple of names, which angels were really there to help and which ones were there out of fanaticism for Castiel.

“Afarial,” she called. The angel turned and walked towards her. “Can you do me a favour and bring me everything you have on Metatron and Gadreel?” she asked. “I need to check something.” The angel nodded and walked into a room. She emerged with another angel, both holding a pile of binders and a box of folders. “Do you mind if I bring these home?”

“No, ma’am, we got copies,” Afarial said with a smile. “Do you want me to tell the commander you’re here?”

“Uh, no, I- I need to get these home and start reading through,” she said. “But thanks.” Emily loaded all the documents in the Thunderbird and drove back to the Bunker. She put the boxes on the table in the library and took a deep breath. Dean walked inside.

“What’s all that?” he asked, holding a glass of liquor.

“Uh- this is everything Cas’ guys had on Metatron and Gadreel,” she explained. “I hope I can find out something they didn’t.”

“That’s… a lot of stuff to read,” Dean answered. “You want some help?” Emily looked at him, at the empty glass, his lips almost perched into a smile: he was drunk. She shook her head. They had a deal, right? He would let her deal with her problems however she wanted, she did the same. It wasn’t her job to stop him. Even if it was constant, and scary, and it barely helped at all. She could see it in his face that he wanted to kill something. He was at his limit.

“I’m fine,” she said with a smile. “Besides this… this is better done by myself.” Dean nodded and walked away. Emily grabbed an empty notebook from a shelf and sat down. She had never sat down to study that much stuff. She was gonna have to lock in and use everything she had and she couldn’t afford to break. Even if sitting down to study reminded her of Kevin, even if while she was thinking she kept ending up staring at the place where he’d died. She just had to find a way. And the way sat in her pocket. She swallowed a pill and opened the first binder. Fifteen hours in, Dean walked in and handed her a burger. Emily didn’t notice him until she called her name. She looked up.

“How’s it going?” he asked. Emily shrugged.

“I narrowed it down to somewhere in Kansas City,” she said. “But that’s like a thousand miles radius.”

“You’ve been going at it for a while, maybe you should take a break,” Dean said, leaning on the chair. “Forget the burger, we can go grab ourselves some chinese.” Emily looked at him. He had no idea what that phrase was doing to her. He had no idea those words brought her back on that boat, desperately trying to convince Kevin to take a break. She took a deep breath and nodded. She needed the break before it all became too much and she wound up crying on the floor. She followed Dean to the garage and into the car. He walked into the restaurant before her and handed her a take out menu. She stepped aside to read it, but Dean touched her shoulder. She looked up and he was looking at the TV hung in a corner. It was a news segment on a homeless protest in Kansas City. And there he was, first row, holding a sign Emily couldn’t make out, Metatron. A few rows back, hiding behind someone, was Gadreel. Emily looked at Dean and didn’t need to talk. He dropped the take out menu and rushed back to the car. Emily sat next to him and didn’t think about packing, about weapons, she knew there was a bag in the Impala at all times and she could figure out dirty clothes. The car started and Dean pushed it to its limit. The engine struggled to keep up as they raced through the dark roads and made it to the camp in three and a half hours.

The Guardian

by Shawn James

Emily and Dean entered the camp from the back. Each one of them had an angel blade. Emily had taken a jar of holy oil, which she planned to use to stop Gadreel from running. Or burn him alive, she still hadn’t decided. The point was, that was going to be it. She was going to take her revenge, and she would feel better. Everything would be better, because she would have had that revenge she’d wanted for almost a year. Dean and Emily separated to follow their targets. Emily snuck into a room and looked at Gadreel through a broken wall. He was talking with someone, whispering something Emily couldn’t make up, and then remained alone. Emily looked down to check if she still had everything, and when she looked back through the wall, he was gone.

“Looking for me, Emily?” asked the angel. Emily turned and saw him in the middle of the room. She didn’t think about warding, she thought she had more time. “I see you’ve come to kill me.”

“And you still came,” she said. “That was a stupid move.” With a flick of her hand, Gadreel’s body flew across the room and landed on the wall closest to her. The angel struggled. “You know, I thought a lot about what I would say,” she said, walking towards him with the angel blade in her hand. “But now that I’m here, I don’t need any answers, I don’t need a long speech about how you ruined the only good thing I’ve had in a long time.” The angel smirked. “I just want you to suffer.”

“Oh, Emily,” the angel sighed. “You really put up a good act, but you forget I was inside of you.”

“I haven’t forgotten that, don’t worry,” she said, pointing the blade at his neck.

“You know what I haven’t forgotten?” the angel said. “How scared you felt when you were fall-” Emily stabbed Gadreel’s arm. He screamed. “I see,” he said, catching his breath. “You don’t want me to say that.” Emily looked at him, blade still deep in his arm. “My point still stands, you’re scared. You’re always scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Emily said. “Not of you.”

“Oh but you were, Emily,” she angel said. “The part of you I had to occupy, she fought.” Emily took the blade out of his arm. “She fought with everything she had, and then she curled up in a corner and started crying. Have you ever wondered why you felt so different? Why you didn’t get as mad?”

“Maybe because you still hadn’t murdered Kevin?” she asked, blade rotating between her fingers. “Don’t take credit for stuff you haven’t done.”

“I did you a favour by locking up that part of you,” the angel smirked. “It was a shame I had to go and ruin it all.” Emily stabbed his other arm. “Funny thing is,” he groaned. “You’re still just as scared.”

“Sure thing, buddy,” Emily said, taking the blade out again. She turned around to clean the blood off her face, powers still focused on keeping him against the wall.

“Then why can’t you even say it?” he asked. Emily froze, then made the hold on his throat stronger. He choked on his blood. “Say it, Emily, say you were in l-” Emily turned and punched him. His nose gave out, more blood spraying on her face. “Coward!”

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not a murderer,” she hissed, blade once again pointed at Gadreel’s throat. “You know what your problem is?” she asked. “You think you know me, but if you really knew me you’d know you shouldn’t make me mad.”

“All you’re good for is crying,” Gadreel said. “Crying and hiding, that’s all you do.” Emily shook her head and huffed. “That’s what killed the prophet, not me.” Her head clenched around the blade. “Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you weren’t in denial about your feelings?” Gadreel asked. “What would have happened if you’d let Kevin save you when he still could? He would still be alive.” Emily swallowed. “You killed him, Emily,” the angel said. Emily looked at him for a second before dipping the angel blade in his stomach. The angel screamed, blood falling out of his mouth as he died. Emily let the body fall to the ground. She looked at him as the grace flamed out of his eyes and he stopped breathing. He was dead. Emily stared at the body for a long minute, waiting for something to happen inside of her. But nothing did. She didn’t feel better. She didn’t feel relieved. She just felt exactly as before. She walked out of the room, looking for Dean. As soon as she turned into the hallway, she heard fighting. She rushed towards it, but it was late. She saw Metatron disappear in the distance, and a body slumped across the floor. She ran towards it. Every step she took, the figure became clearer, until she had no doubt left that it was Dean. In the rush to get close to see if he was okay, she fell to the ground. She put her hand on his stomach, trying to stop the bleeding, already panicking and trying to come up with a plan, which hospital to go to, which story to tell, when he grabbed her wrist.

“Emily,” he whispered.

“It’s fine, Dean, I’m here,” she said, taking off her backpack. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“Emily, stop,” he said. Emily frowned, hand already wrapped on an old t-shirt she was going to use to stop the bleeding. “It’s fine.”

“Dude, no it’s not, okay? I-” Dean squeezed her wrist and she stopped. He looked at her. Dean was fine with dying. He’d always been, but having the mark had been way too heavy of a burden to keep carrying. He was tired of feeling like he had to either kill something or go crazy. Emily knew exactly how he felt, if she closed her eyes she could still feel the pain of trials and her body begging her to let go and just die. And she hated Sam for saving her. She hated him for not listening. “Dean, are you sure?” she asked. Dean nodded. She felt her eyes fill up with tears.

“Did you do it?” he asked. Emily nodded, her hand firmly pressed on his wound, knowing full well it was the only thing that was stopping him from bleeding out in minutes. “You don’t look happy, kid.”

“I- I-” Emily sniffed. “It didn’t change anything,” she whispered. “He’s still dead.”

“You’re gonna be fine,” he said. “You’ll get through it.”

“What if I don’t?” she asked, tears falling down her face. She didn’t want to say it. She knew it wasn’t right, telling Dean she needed him, but she also knew she wouldn’t know how to carry on alone. She needed someone. Dean’s eyes closed slowly and then opened back up.

“Emily, I need to tell you something,” he whispered. Emily nodded, drying her face. “I need to thank you.”

“For what?” Emily asked. “I was the worst person to have around for our entire lives, Dean.” She swallowed and looked away.

“Yeah, but you gave me a second chance,” he whispered. Emily dried her face. “You’re not a kid anymore, Emily.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I’m still your little sister.” Dean smiled through a bloody cough.

“You never needed anybody to tell you what to do,” he said. “So you’re going to be fine, with or without me.” Emily looked at Dean close his eyes for one last time, his hand losing grip on her wrist. There was no point in trying to bring him back because he didn’t want to be brought back. He had made a decision and Emily wasn’t going to be the one to take over that. She hated Sam for doing it to her, but she was hating herself for letting Dean die. He was too heavy to carry out on herself, and she wasn’t in the mood to call Sam. Fuck. She had to tell Sam, didn’t she? He was going to find out one way or the other, and it was better if she heard it from her. But first, she had to get out of there. She took her phone out of her pocket, it was covered in blood, Dean’s or Gadreel’s, she didn’t know. All she managed to dial was Crowley's number. Not that she had any other alternatives.

“What do you want, Sheep?” he asked. “I'm busy.”

“You better zap your fat unholy ass down here,” she said. “And quick.”

“No need to be rude,” said Crowley, appearing in front of her. He looked at Dean's body. “Oh boy,” he sighed.

“Get us out of here,” Emily said.

“Oh, good, I thought you were gonna ask me to bring him back,” said Crowley with a sigh of relief. “I’m glad it’s something I can actually do.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?” Emily asked. “You're king of hell, of course you can bring him back!”

“Sheep,”

“Stop calling me that!” Emily yelled, “Just get us out of here!”

“No, Sheep, you're not listening. I can't bring him back, because he's simply not dead.” Emily frowned.

“What are you talking about?!” Emily turned towards Dean. “Of course he's dead, asshole!” In a blink, Emily found herself back in the bunker, alone in her room. She tried to open her door, but it was locked from the outside. “Crowley?!” she called, banging on her door. “Get me the fuck out of here!” The demon appeared in her room a few minutes later.

“Sheep, there's something you need to know,” said Crowley. “I can, in fact, bring Dean back.”

“That’s not what I asked you to do!” she complained. “What the hell is going on?”

“Don’t get your panties into a pretzel, Emily, as I said - he was never dead.”

“Crowley, I am not in the mood, okay? Just- open the damn door so I can give him a proper f-”

“Do you promise to keep an open mind?”

“Crowley!” Emily yelled. “He’s dead, what open mind do I need?”

“He’s not dead, he’s simply… changed,” the demon explained. “into something closer to you and me.”

“What the fuck did you do?!” she asked. Crowley shrugged.

“Me, nothing,” he said. “This is just the consequence of his actions.” Emily looked at him, confused. “The mark- it feeds off violence. You know what else feeds from violence? Demons.”

“So?”

“So, your dear brother isn't dead,” said Crowley. “He just doesn't know how to open his newly black eyes.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Emily asked. “He’s a demon?!”

“See, I knew you would be open minded about this,” Crowley said with a smirk. “I think it's time we… let's say… end the stigma.” Emily tried to speak. “Dean's going to open his eyes- and they'll be black. That don't mean he's evil.”

“He's a demon, of course-”

“Open minded, Sheep.” Emily shook her head. “He's not going to be any different than he's been since he got the mark. Also, this is going to make you closer,” he said. “You know, demon blood and all that.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I'm trying to say, Sheep- you're untapped potential. You were - and still are - Azazel's greatest experiment.” Emily threw her hands in the air and paced to her desk. “I think it's time you let yourself go a little.” As he said that, he disappeared. The door unlocked. Untapped potential. Whatever it meant. Maybe he had a point. Holding back had only brought her more pain, more problems. She walked to Dean's room to find him gone. He couldn't have gone far, right? Wrong, because he was a demon apparently. She dialed Crowley's number. He appeared next to her.

“What?!” he asked, annoyed. “I was just here.”

“I want in,” she said. Crowley's eyebrows raised. “I'll do whatever, just- I want in.”

“What the hell do you mean, you want in?”

“He’s a demon, fine, I don’t care,” she said. “He’s still my brother, so wherever he’s gonna be doing with you, I want in.”

“Fine by me, Sheep,” he shook his head. “Give me an hour to convince Squirrel.”