#i needed to see one maybe when my joints first started being painful when they'd go out of place

[dredshirtroberts]

oh *now* she wants me to see a doctor about my joints doing things joints don't normally do.

bit late ma.

[cuttlefishkitch]

hello! i haven't talked to you before, but ron said that i could ask you for some advice on writing eds? (i'd like to know things to avoid/common things that could come up in everyday life that would be good to mention/the sort of aids and stuff they'd have maybe?/anything else you think is relevant)

Hi! Sorry this took so long, a combination of ADHD and chronic pain slowed me way the fuck down. Thank you for being patient! 

EDIT: WEIRD HEEL THINGS I FORGOT!!

So, before I get into this I should probably say I technically haven’t been diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (EDS for anyone reading) because it’s one of those syndromes that takes forever to get diagnosed with (it took a friend of mine’s mother over 30 years to get dxed). Many doctors, and everyone I know who does have EDS agree with me that it’s probably what causes my chronic joint pain and some of my other chronic issues. But just because three separate doctors have said “Yeah Probably” doesn’t mean I’m diagnosed!! Only a geneticist can do that!! And they had two-three year waitlists BEFORE the apocalypse happened.

I am diagnosed with Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS), Small Fiber Neuropathy, and potentially misdiagnosed with Fibromyalgia (once I get properly tested for EDS I might get undiagnosed with this because I don’t have most of the main symptoms of Fibro, but I got diagnosed with it anyway because it’s what doctors misDX you with when they don’t know what’s wrong with you and don’t want to do more tests).

All that said, I’ve done a lot of research about EDS (mainly because it’s the only thing that explains all my symptoms since doctors seem incapable of doing so), and know a few people who have either confirmed or suspected EDS, so I’ll link to some stuff, talk about the symptoms that often come with EDS, explain how the symptoms I have affect me, because just because someone’s not diagnosed doesn’t mean they aren’t having symptoms, and probs elaborate a bit about writing physical disabilities and chronic pain in general because it’s super important to me! 

So RESOURCES aka how to make sure your post never sees the light of day because you’re linking things and tumblr hates it when people give other people information!!

Youtubers! If you want to know about the day to day of living with EDS or any disability or chronic illness I super suggest finding a youtuber that makes videos about their life. My EDS favorites are

Jessica Kellgren-Fozard

Annie Elainey

Amy Lee Fisher

Websites! If you’re asking random folks on tumblr I’m assuming (and hoping) you’ve already done the basic WebMD google searches and looked over the seemingly ridiculous lists of symptoms and related conditions, so here are a few websites that are made more for people than for doctors.

The Ehlers Danlos Society

OhTWIST (That’s Why I’m So Tired)

ChronicPainPartners (the fact that they have an entire section of articles called “Dealing with Doctors” should really tell you something)

Books! If you feel like doing actual reading! I suggest reading books written by people with Ehlers Danlos, to get a feel for how they portray themselves. I’m not saying steal, but it’s probably a good point of comparison to see how your portrayal feels. (haven’t actually read these b/c my ADHD doesn’t let me read)

Ria Ruse by Morgan S. Ray (a superhero book with a disabled super MC!!)

Mysteries of Maybelle by Imani Benfell (Imani is still in high school and has already written and self-published a book cause she didn’t have enough representation for herself how cool is she!!)

Bodies in Motion by Liana Brooks (tw for pregnancy problems and miscarriages in the link, because it’s a blog post talking about integrating EDS symptoms into the story without explicitly naming them as such)

OKAY, now for some rambling about EDS SYMPTOMS!!!

Ehlers Danlos is one monster of a genetic condition in complexity and variety. There are THIRTEEN different identified types of EDS, it often comes with Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) and/or POTS, and can lead to various other conditions like gastroparesis, chiari malformation, craniocervical instability, and/or bad teeth. So if you’re going to be writing a character with EDS consider what other comorbid conditions they might also have. I’m mainly going to be talking about Hypermobile EDS (hEDS) because it’s what I probably have and what I’m most familiar with. That said there is a lot of overlap in symptoms with the other varieties.

I started typing this section and realized I was going to have to break it down even more so we’re going to talk about Chronic Pain, Unstable Joints (Dislocations and Subluxations), Skin Things, Mobility Issues, and Other Weird Shit and how those things get addressed separately.

Gonna get the Other Weird Shit out of the way first. Because EDS is a malfunction of connective tissue it can fuck up all sorts of random things. For instance, I and many other people w/ hEDS have trouble swallowing. Shit gets stuck in my throat, I sometimes choke on and have to cough up food, and pills can be hard to swallow, which sucks cause I take A Lot Of Pills. If it doesn’t cause full-on gastroparesis it can cause IBS or other digestive problems b/c the digestive tract is mostly made of connective tissue. It can potentially cause heart problems even if they aren’t as big of a risk as in some other forms of EDS. Premature osteoarthritis is common because what you need is more joint pain. And Fatigue OH BOY THE FATIGUE. And of course the headaches, can’t forget those pesky migraines can we!

AND piezogenic papules!! I completely forgot!! Piezogenic papules are little white bumps that appear when you put weight on your heel. In some people they hurt, but in others they don’t. They’re technically tiny little herniations of fat peaking through the fascia in the heel. They were added as part of the diagnostic criteria for hEDS in 2017!

Now for Skin Things cause it’s not as big a thing in hEDS as it is in other forms. Basically, in a lot of forms of EDS, the skin is extra stretchy and extra delicate. It bruises and tears easily, people with the extreme versions of this can accidentally scratch something into an open wound if they aren’t careful. My skin is pretty soft and sensitive, I def have the typical velvety skin, and as is pretty par for the course of someone with hEDS my skin is a little stretchy, and sorta delicate. I’m not as tissue-papery as some people get, but I almost always have at least one mystery bruise or scrape b/c existing is hazardous. Most of scars are also pretty normal, unlike the extremely papery and atrophic scars (though I have a few tiny acne scars that are atrophic) that are common with other kinds of hEDS. Something that I DO have is Lots of Stretch Marks, all over my thighs, and even down to my calves. Which wouldn’t be abnormal, except for the fact that I’ve never been over 145 lbs and I’ve never been pregnant. Having a lot of stretch marks or striations in the skin without due cause happens because the structure of the skin isn’t as strong as it is in people with a normal amount of connective tissue.

I don’t have to worry as much about my skin but people that do are usually very careful with adhesives because they can irritate or tear the skin, which sucks when you need a lot of bandaids cause your darn skin won’t do its job.

Now on to the meatier stuff and since I’m mostly working backward let’s do Mobility Issues!! These can happen in loads of ways, but a lot of what causes these in people with EDS are the other two things I wanna talk about. Unstable joints lead to increased risk of injury when doing stuff people with fully functioning joints can do.

For context, I’m an ambulatory wheelchair user, meaning I can walk, but a lot of the time it’s better if use a chair. Mine is mostly for my POTS symptoms, but the fact that my legs aren’t also in absolute agony is a big plus. I use a custom manual wheelchair with a SmartDrive (b/c I’m very fucking fortunate and have good insurance) whenever I leave the house and have to be “walking” for more than a few minutes at a time. I can’t fully self-propel in a manual chair because it would be damaging to the joints in my arms and hands, but the smaller chair is easier to maneuver in less than accessible spaces (like almost everywhere). There was about a month-long span where I used a very cheap and very bulky electric chair while I was waiting on the ideal set up I have now. Before that, I also briefly used, and sometimes still use, an up-right posture cane.

People with EDS have widely varying mobility issues because of how uniquely it can manifest. My cane only gave me a little help with balance because if I used it in any prolonged capacity any pain it took away from my legs was relocated to my arms, and as an artist, my arms are more important to me!

If you’re going to write a character with EDS having mobility issues as a result of their EDS the best thing to do is to narrow down their specific needs. Are their knees complete and utter garbage but their shoulders and wrists strong? Maybe they can get away with using a cane. Can they not stand for longer than 5 minutes because of the vertigo from their POTS? Maybe they need a manual wheelchair. Would propelling themself damage their back and arm joints? An electric chair might be necessary! Plenty of people with EDS use all sorts of combinations of these aides to get around their life, consider how your character’s good and bad days would be. Do they have back up plans if they overestimate themselves? There can be a lot to manage, but don’t let it scare you off! Sometimes I try and make it into a resource management game (because I’m a game designer and that’s what I do), to make evaluating my energy and mobility needs more fun!

But now let's tackle some of the reasons those mobility aides might be needed. Unstable Joints.

Ever stepped wrong and rolled your ankle? It hurts for a few steps and then kinda fixes itself, or maybe it bothers you for the rest of the day and you put it up and ice it when you get home? When I was walking around outside my house that would happen AT LEAST once a month, usually more. Some times I’m sitting wrong and when I get up my knee isn’t a knee anymore and decides to just give out from under me. My knuckles are made of unruly popcorn and they Don’t Want To Stay Home!! Oh! And my shoulder is more often out a little out of its socket than it is fully in.

Unstable joints lead to Dislocations and Subluxations of varying intensity, and some people get them more frequently than others. Some can be severe enough to necessitate hospital visits and even surgery, some subluxations are so banal (like my fUCKING SHOULDER) that you just learn to live with the pain.

If a character is going to be in high action, combat-heavy scenarios, chances are they’re going to be popping out joints left and right. Hell, depending on the severity of their joint laxity they could be doing the same sitting at a desk. Again, it’s incredibly varied. I’d suggest setting some sort of baseline for yourself, of what a character’s joints can and can’t stand up to, and maybe do some research on which joints are most likely to pop out in general (hips and shoulders are big culprits being the wacky ball and socket motherfuckers they are). Then maybe have something pop out or hold up every so often when it shouldn’t cause hey! EDS is kinda just like that! Unpredictable!

Some ways people manage joint laxity is with braces, KT tape, and physical therapy. Braces come in many different forms, since I’m currently getting pretty much no treatment for my shitty joints I use mostly compression braces made for sporty people. It really is amazing how much a bit of tight fabric can do to keep my wrist in place.

More specialized braces often have solid parts to prevent the joints from hyper-extending (bending the wrong way) and causing further damage. If you ever see someone with what looks like diamond shaped rings around a bunch of their finger joints, chances are those are Ring Splints, and are there to keep the finger shaped like a finger. I want to get my hands on some and get some on my hands Very Badly, because my fingers hyper-extend SO MUCH when I type, and it makes my hand pain way way worse.

KT tape is another thing people often use. It’s stretchy tape you put on your skin and it basically functions kinda like a second ligament as well as reinforcing the joint and keeping the bones mostly where they’re supposed to be. The problem with this is a lot of people with EDS have very sensitive and fragile skin like I mentioned before, so KT tape can cause allergic reactions, chronic skin irritation, or just straight up take the skin with it when someone goes to remove it. Hence a lot of folks are really careful with it.

Physical Therapy is kinda the best (and only) treatment for joint laxity aside from Very Invasive and sometimes Highly Experimental surgery. It focuses on strengthening the muscles around the joints so they can do the work all those bone ropes made of body glue can’t. The problem is finding a physical therapist that 1) knows what EDS even is, 2) knows you have it, and 3) knows how to treat it without doing stuff that’ll Phucking Hurt You Worse!! Because exercising wrong with EDS can do Permanent Damage!!!

Again most folks use a combination of all of these things, or have next to no access to them b/c healthcare sucks.

Anyway, on to one of my favorite topics, Chronic Pain!! One of the reasons this post took me so long!!!

Chances are if your character has chronic pain as a result of their EDS there are gonna be some things they hate, including stairs, rain, thunderstorms, stairs, hills, uneven terrain, oh and did I mention stairs??? It’s going to vary person to person, but almost everyone I’ve met with pain from EDS has complained about their knees. For me the most debilitating pain is in my fingers and wrists. They’re by far my least stable joints but I use them constantly for stuff like drawing, typing, and sewing.

Because my joint pain is so wide spread, like most people’s with hEDS, it effects every single part of my day to day life. I can’t carry a heavy ceramic plate, open a bottle, or even use my computer without pain. It’s practically impossible for me to get comfortable in any position be it sitting or laying down, and as you can imagine that makes it hard to sleep a lot of the time. Moving too much hurts, but so does sitting still. I’m constantly taking braces on and off or cracking/stretching my joints so they pop back into place and hurt less.

Also being in pain makes everything else That Much Worse. I get tired way faster than I did before my pain was this bad (I had chronic pain for a while before actually realizing it wasn’t normal to not be able to walk down the block without feeling like your foot bones are trying to escape). My sensory issues and anxiety disorder are more easily aggravated because my base level of comfort is way worse. It fucks with my depression. And OH BOY does it make my ADHD worse because being in pain is fucking distracting as hell and makes it harder to make decisions and switch tasks. Also my ADHD often makes my other symptoms worse cause I forget to take my meds, don’t drink enough water, or can’t find my fucking braces because the item eating black-hole that comes with ADHD stole them. The intersection of mental and physical disabilities is probably a rant for another time though, so back to chronic pain.

Does it suck? Yes, undoubtedly. Is this incredibly debilitating? Of course it is, I spent the last several months unable to feed myself without assistance because there was a staircase between my room and the kitchen and I could only manage to climb it once a day. Is it overwhelming? Definitely, I’ve frequently broken down crying from a combination of pain and frustration because I’m having a bad day and there’s no relief to be found. Am I able to predict when it’s going to rain with uncanny accuracy because any change in barometric pressure makes me feel like every bone in my body is trying to kill it’s neighbors? You bet your fucking ass I am!! Does it sometimes make me irritable, angry, and occasionally dismissive of when abled people get cold or a temporary injury because the stuff they’re complaining about is my life every single day and all avenues of treatment and recovery I have could take years and still not entirely solve my issues? Yeah, and while I deserve a little extra patience I also have to be sure to check myself because I don’t want to turn into someone who’s nasty to be around. Do I sometimes need to sleep for 17 hours straight because it’s raining, I have migraine, and I’m in too much pain to be conscious? Yup, sometimes a few days in a row. Does living in constant pain mean I’m unable to do all the things I want to and does that sometimes make me wanna curl up in bed and never leave? Yeah, it happens.

But! And here’s the big important but, that’s not everything! I still write, draw, and talk to my friends!! It might take me a little longer but I get there. I’m still happy and excitable and make the time to write out five page long posts about EDS because it’s something I’m passionate about! My chronic pain doesn’t stop me. I refuse to let it. I never really wanted to go mountain climbing anyway, so I’m perfectly happy being able to make it up and down the six steps in my house, even if sometimes I have to sit and bump down them on my ass, or crawl up them like a cat. Chronic pain isn’t all I am. It isn’t a fate worse than death. It isn’t the only thing your character should talk about (though I do talk about my pain a lot cause I’m a complainer about almost everything). You can have your character be hindered by their pain, realistically they would be. You can have them seek comfort, support, and relief. Other characters can commiserate and be sympathetic, but it doesn’t mean their whole life is going to be one big pity party, that would be incredibly fucking boring. I know I’d be bored out of my mind.

All that said dealing with chronic pain, especially from EDS, is Complicated. Physical Therapy is the gold standard, but like I said before it can be a long and difficult process, and isn’t always accessible. Stabilization methods like I talked about before can help prevent pain, or reduce it by keeping bones mostly where they belong. Heat and cold help joints, relax muscles, and reduce inflammation but keeping them applied is rough and the relief doesn’t always last. Doctors prescribe anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, and sometimes even anti-epileptic medication to help manage pain, but everyone’s mileage with those varies. And I’m not at all qualified to talk in-depth about narcotics or other heavy duty pain-meds, but suffice to say the war on drugs fucked shit up for people that legit need that kind of help BIG TIME.

Now for my closer/bonus rant about EDS and Disability Writing in General!

Everyone always says write what you know, so if you really want to do disabled people justice, get to know disabled people! Make friends with disabled people, get involved with advocacy groups, consume content made by disabled creators both about disability and not! Disabilities are so fucking diverse, even EDS is such a complex disorder, and comes with so many potential co-morbidities, that practically everyone with it has a unique experience. There’s no way I can fully explain everything in a tumblr post. Hell, even if I could talk to you for hours probably couldn’t give you enough info to answer all your questions (especially since I’m still in diagnosis hell :,) ), so talk to a wide range of people with EDS and other disabilities!! I know it sounds like a lot of work but trust me, disabled people are some of the strongest, raddest, coolest, people you will ever meet that it won’t feel like it.

And don’t be afraid either, the fact that EDS and other disabilities are so wildly varied means that you have a little bit of wiggle room with your character’s experience. There’s so little disability rep out their I think people are WAY to scared to try their hand at writing it. So long as your character is a fully developed person in addition to being disabled, you give some logical thought as to how it would affect their life, and you don’t make their disability the butt of any joke it isn’t difficult to avoid ableist writing. PLEASE WRITE MORE DISABLED PEOPLE AND PEOPLE WITH CHRONIC PAIN/CHRONIC ILLNESS!!

Okay that’s it, again sorry it took so long for me to get back to you! My fingers were being little pests about it, and my ADHD (which is honestly more disabling than everything else a lot of the time lmao) was being an asshole! Hope this helps, and feel free to ask me more questions if you need clarification! It might take me a bit but I do love talking about this stuff.

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter 17

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 7,000

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

George had practically run all the way to Jack's door, but when she got there she hesitated. Back at the bunker they'd bonded a little, she thought; now, in the harsh light of the outside world and his near fatal injuries, she was less confident. Worried that she didn't belong there, she looked forlornly back at Dean as he caught up.

"What?" He wondered what the hold up was.

"Um," George wrung her hands and suggested, "...maybe we should wait for Sam?"

Dean read her nervousness and placed a hand on her upper back, pushing her gently, "Just go in. He asked to see you."

George let out a nervous groan and then pushed the door open lest she be shoved against it by Dean's strong hand.

Inside, she found Jack lying propped up in a small, twin sized bed, stitched and bandaged, listening politely to Lorna telling him how to cook the perfect egg. He appeared very alert and George was thankful he had his color. The image of his dead body from her dream flashed in her mind's eye quickly.

When the two of them came in, Jack's eyes lit up, interrupting Lorna excitedly, "George!"

She couldn't move her legs, as she fought hard to swallow the boulder-sized lump in her throat. As Jack started to sit up, Dean moved to the bed and adjusted his pillows to help prop him up.

Lorna took a hint and said, "Alright, well I took my lunch break to come home and check on the little miracle patient. Good news: still a miracle. And since he's doing so well, I should get back. There's plenty of food in the kitchen, feel free to help yourselves. I'm working a double." Both George and Dean thanked her profusely as she left, then turned back to Jack.

"You're OK!" Jack stated happily, addressing George.

She furrowed a brow at him and finally forced herself to walk over to the side Dean wasn't on, "Of course, I'm fine. How are yo-oh!" When she got close enough to him, he reached out and pulled her down into a tight hug. She felt awkward at first, again not used to hugging a lot of people. When she could feel how much the hug meant to him though, she relaxed into it, shifting to sit on the edge of his make-shift hospital bed. The built up tears spilled down her cheeks and she squeezed him comfortingly.

When he finally pulled back, she smiled, wiping her tears quickly with a blush, and asked, "How are you feeling? What was that about being a miracle patient?"

"According to Lorna, Jack's healing 'miraculously fast.' She seemed pretty surprised when she checked him over this morning," Dean explained with some uncertainty.

"Oh? What's-"

"We don't know," Dean answered with a shrug. "Best theory is maybe his grace is starting to grow back so he's healing himself, slowly?"

The three of them shared a confused expression, unsure what to think.

"Well… Good! As long as you're feeling better, that's all I care about."

"Yes, definitely better," He assured. Then added, "Happy to still be alive. A little surprised not to be dead, honestly." George frowned at him; he was so damn blunt sometimes. "Where's Sam?"

"He wasn't as quick to put his clothes on," Dean cracked.

"What?" Jack didn't understand.

"He means, he had to change," George corrected Dean, giving him a dagger stare, explaining further, "out of his PJs. He'll be here in a minute."

"Were you sleeping? You didn't have to wake them up for me," Jack scolded Dean lightly.

"Trust me, they were not sleeping," Dean laughed. George reached across Jack to punch him but the angle caused a white hot stabbing pain to radiate throughout her left side.

Her breath caught in her throat and she carefully shifted back to a comfortable position, muttering, "Ow, ow, ow."

"Are you OK?!" Dean and Jack asked simultaneously.

She placed a hand on her left hip and nodded, trying to catch her breath, "Yes, I'm fine. Just sore and my pain meds have evidently worn off."

"Oh, Lorna left you more…" Dean began, looking around the room for something. "There," he pointed to her side of the bed. On the nightstand she saw a small glass of water next to a cupcake wrapper with two large pills inside.

"Oh, that woman is a godsend!" She muttered, grabbing the items and downing the meds.

"I'll say!" The three of them turned their heads to find Sam in the doorway, holding another plate full of scones. He was now dressed in dark jeans and an olive green and black checkered button down. Taking another bite of the pastry in his hand, he mumbled excitedly, "Have you tried these?!"

When George laughed and nodded, Sam offered the plate to Dean. He quickly turned it down with a shake of his head, looking a little green. George smirked, assuming he'd had his fill. Sam placed the plate down on a side table and then came over to them. Shoving his brother out of the way, he leaned down and gave Jack a bear hug.

"Sam," Jack said happily, hugging him tight. When they separated Jack looked around with a smile, Sam squeezing his shoulders lovingly, "I'm so grateful to see you all." He looked between Dean and Sam, "How did you find me?"

Sam and Dean turned toward George pointedly and she blushed bright red.

With a nervous chuckle, she shrunk herself down a bit, admitting, "Uh, oh, well I--I… uh, I guess I helped with that a little." The brother's gave her matching perturbed expressions and she smiled weakly, "A lot?"

"What's going on?" Jack asked, reading the situation fairly accurately. "Am I missing something?"

They continued to wait for her to respond and she huffed a bit, "It's just--it's kind of a long, complicated story. And also, maybe we should start with Jack. How did you even get here?"

The diversion worked as the boys instantly looked at Jack and he began to explain, "Tilly brought me here. It's kind of weird. The night I left, Tim came to talk to me. He told me Sam was back from his hunt and wanted to see me in the garage. When I got there, I walked in on Tilly killing a demon with an angel blade."

"Where'd she get an angel blade?" Sam wondered.

"She told me you gave it to her and asked her to come get me because you said you thought I was in danger. Told me the demon she'd killed was proof that Sam was right and that I should go with her. I guess I was just surprised by the demon and I believed her," He frowned apologetically. Dean's expression didn't change but Sam and George gave him sympathetic half-smiles. "Anyway, we got halfway through Utah before she finally admitted she wasn't working with Sam after all and that she was taking me to the angels. She seemed… kinda guilty about it."

"Why was she taking you to the angels?" Dean was furious.

"They got to her. Told her about heaven struggling without more angels and convinced her that I was the answer. They gave her the angel blade and told her to get me to Oregon at any cost."

"And she just… did as she was told by stranger angels?" George asked in confusion. "Why?"

Jack began to explain, "Tilly--"

"Was very devoted to her faith," Sam cut him off with a frustrated huff. "I remember. The angels must have sensed she was vulnerable."

"Wait, is Tilly the bible study lady?" George asked. Jack and Sam nodded in confirmation.

"Bible study lady?" Dean was confused.

Sam explained, "Tilly organized a bible study at the bunker amongst the refugees pretty quickly after we got back."

"Yeah! She found my room and knocked on the door one night, nearly scared the shit out of me. No one knew where I was staying and that room is purposefully hard to find."

"What did she want?" Dean asked.

"To invite me to bible study. I politely declined and she left," George shrugged. "Crazy how she found me though. I mean she must have followed me," She casually glanced at Sam and Dean, both of whom had thoughtful frowns, and joked, "Or she was casin' the joint--ooohhhh!" She nodded slowly as it dawned on her that Tilly must have found her room while exploring the bunker in secret, "She was casing the joint!"

Dean gave Sam an annoyed look, silently scolding him for letting the nutcase run amuk and Sam shrugged defensively, "I didn't know that's what she was doing!"

"Bible study?" He sneered.

"I wasn't about to tell anyone that had just traveled from an apocalyptic alternate universe that they couldn't practice their faith, Dean! I just thought she was trying to bring people some comfort. I didn't think she was hurting anyone!"

"Fuckin' zealots," Dean grumbled. Sam looked guilty.

"Where's Tilly now? Do the angels have her?" George asked, unaware of her fate.

"We found her body off the trail," Sam began, looking at Jack curiously. He added as an afterthought, "We actually need to go back and take care of it."

"The angel who came over to us back in the woods: Poyel. He killed her," Jack explained. "Tilly brought me to him and Duma just inside the trails. They were leading us to the other group; out of nowhere he thanked Tilly for 'serving her purpose' and then..." He trailed off and frowned deeply. "It happened so fast. T--There was nothing I could do," He admitted sadly.

"Jack," George placed her hand over his and squeezed.

"Don't feel too bad for her, she kidnapped you," Dean stated matter-of-factly. Jack's frown depended.

"Dean," Sam scolded.

"I think what Dean means to say is," George began pointedly, "what Tilly did, taking you to them, it was wrong. Of course she didn't deserve to die, but it's certainly not your fault that she died doing something wrong."

"She believed it was right," Jack argued sadly.

"Even so. The wrong thing done for the right reason is still the wrong thing," George said very wisely.

"Huh. Did you just come up with that?" Sam wondered curiously. Dean seemed equally impressed.

She blushed and admitted, "Nah. It's from Charmed. Phoebe uses her magic to kill a guy and when Piper and Prue try to break her out of jail to save her from execution, she's like 'no I did the crime, I have to do the time! We're supposed to protect the innocent, not punish the guilty'..." Looking back and forth between the brothers' matching bemused expressions she added proudly, "Reality Bites. Easily in the top five greatest Charmed episodes. I highly recommend a watch."

Dean stared at her blankly for a few moments before stating, "OK, seriously. You watch too much TV."

"That's rich coming from Doctor Sexy, MD's biggest fan. Give me a break!" She stuck her tongue out at him and he held his hands up in mock defeat. "Life wasn't exactly a fairytale and TV was an escape. Hey, and now it literally is!" She said with a cheeky smile to Sam. Then she gasped, "Oh my God, can you imagine if I'd ended up in the Charmed reality, instead of this one? What if I got powers? How cool would that be?!"

"I mean… We have witchcraft here that I can teach you, so..." Sam muttered quietly. After a pause and a frown, he huffed a little, "And, you didn't get any special abilities when you came here, so I don't really think it makes sense to assume that you'd have gotten powers if you'd gone there." George gave him an amused look, reading his mild irritation for the jealousy it was.

Jack seemed confused, "I feel like I missed something."

"You've missed quite a bit," Dean said bluntly.

"Not that much!" George downplayed.

"Why don't you tell Jack how you knew how to find him, then?" Dean challenge.

"Oh, right," George grimaced, realizing she'd forgotten to use her distraction to come up with a good explanation. With a nervous frown, she squeezed Jack's hand quickly before letting go and clasping her hands together, "OK, so here's the thing: I wasn't entirely honest with you when we first met. I'm not from the apocalypse world."

"I knew it!" Jack exclaimed. He knew he hadn't recognized her from the camp.

"Congrats, you called it," she gave him an amused smirk and then cleared her throat nervously, "I'm not from the camps, but I am from an alternate reality--a different alternate reality." Pausing to wipe the sweat that had formed on her brow, she took a deep breath. "In that reality, all of this--you, the brothers, your lives, monsters, heaven, hell, angels, demons--none of it is real. It's all just a show. On television. That I watch… watched? Am watching? Whatever. Anyway, because of the show, I knew who you all were before I came here. And also, even more strangely because why not, I'm kind of from the future. I seem to have come back to an older season of the show, one that already aired in my reality. So, like, I knew you were all going to make it back safely from apocalypse world, I knew you were going to lose your powers, I knew Dean was going to get possessed by Michael…" She looked at Dean apologetically; she was really trying to be sensitive to the fact that these were real people's lives she was now referring to. "And then when you turned up kidnapped, something about it seemed very familiar and I realized that in my reality there must be an episode of the show where you get kidnapped and taken to that Trees of Enigma place. And since you guys had just come back from apocalypse world and I knew your powers were gone, the timeline seemed to fit perfectly. So, I politely suggested that the guys tr-"

"You demanded that we go to Oregon," Dean corrected, but then added fairly, "And you were right." George gave him a small smile of appreciation and then looked back at Jack. The look on his face was indiscernible; she really hoped he wasn't angry that she lied to him.

"So, you knew us before we met you?" He asked curiously.

George nodded a bit, "Yes--well, sort of--I'd never met any of…" She trailed off, suddenly glancing at Sam and realizing that might not be true, "Er, uh, I mean, I knew of you. In my reality you're all characters, so I knew you about as much as you can 'know' Darth Vader." Jack looked thoughtful, like he was processing.

"And you knew where to find me because you saw it on TV?" Jack asked, blinking at them a few times, then looking between Sam and Dean.

"Er--essentially," George thought about clarifying for accuracy, since she hasn't actually seen the episode, but figured it wasn't important.

Sam gave him an apologetic grimace, offering some assistance, "It's true, Jack. George knows things she couldn't possibly know any other way. And actually Dean and I have been to that reality, once. A long time ago. The supernatural wasn't real, we weren't really brothers; we were just actors on a TV show, pretend-killing monsters with rubber weapons. It was… interesting."

At the same time, Dean spoke over him, "Weird as hell." George rolled her eyes a bit at his unwavering disdain for his alt reality fame.

"Jack, I know this may not hold that much weight right now, but I'm very sorry that I lied to you. I feel awful, I just didn-"

"It's OK, George. I understand. You lied because the truth seemed… unbelievable. I think it's safe to say we've all been there," He shrugged a bit with a smile, Dean and Sam giving expressions of clear agreement, and she looked relieved.

"I promise this is the only thing I ever lied to you about," She said, trying to assuage her guilt further.

Jack thought for a moment and then asked, "So, then you were telling the truth when you said you were single?"

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise and Sam frowned in confusion, looking at her curiously. George blushed. She had forgotten about the strange personal question he'd asked her out of the blue a few weeks ago during one of their video game sessions. It had come so nonchalantly, and she'd been so focused on the game, that she'd answered without thinking: "Since Tess Thompson hasn't returned my calls, I guess I'd have to say yes." His response was a distracted "Who's that?" but something in their game caught all their focus right after, so they continued on playing without another thought.

George blushed and stuttered, "Uh, ye--yes, I--I am! Why did you ask me that by the way?"

"Well, when Sam asked me if I knew, I didn't," Jack explained matter of factly, with a shrug. "So, I asked in case he asked me again and I could tell him." George instantly looked back at Sam in surprise and then looked away quickly, trying to hide her grin. She could feel the tips of her ears burning. She would have felt flattered but she was too busy being worried that Jack might have told Sam all the embarrassing things she'd asked Jack about him.

"Beautiful," Dean remarked, his own wide spreading grin appearing as he watched Sam fidget in embarrassment.

Before Sam could explain at all, Jack asked, "So, how much did you know about us before meeting us?"

Glancing at Sam again and grinning at his charming humiliation, she replied, "Uh, actually not that much. Remember I told you I liked that show, 'Friends'?"

"The funny one you said was about 'a guy who sleeps with another woman and then spends 7 seasons arguing it's no big deal'?" Jack asked, sounding like he was reciting her words back to her.

"Weren't they on a break?" Dean asked casually.

George's neck snapped toward him and she practically hissed, "Maybe but he slept with someone else. He doesn't get to be indignant when Rachel doesn't want him back after that!"

"I really wouldn't argue with her about it. Trust me," Jack warned, causing George to give him a teasingly dirty look.

"Anyway. So, obviously, you know I'm obsessed with that show; watched every episode countless times, know all the trivia, yadda yadda," George explained. Then continued, "I was objectively less obsessed with the show you're all from. Called Supernatural, by the way. I've seen most of it, 'cept the last two seasons, only once through and some reruns here and there--but that's about it. And your 'character' was fairly new to the show, so I've only seen one season with you. I know more about these two doofuses," She smirked, angling a thumb in the direction of Sam and Dean.

"Like what?" Jack asked, suddenly very curious.

Dean huffed a bit and interjected, "Wait, you're fine with all this? George's revelation. Just like that?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly, "Stranger things have happened. Besides, it'd be cool to learn about your lives before me."

Dean and Sam looked a bit indignant and Dean defended, "What do you mean? We're open books, you can ask us anything!"

"Uh, Dean," George began with a smirk, "You're happy to tell about your successes--by the way have you ever killed Hitler?" He gave her a perturbed look and she continued with a chuckle, "But I find it hard to believe you're going to tell Jack about the time you pulled down your pants and shouted 'pudding' at a stranger?" George spoke slowly and enunciated each word for maximum impact. Dean's face fell instantly. Sam's, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree at the memory, looking at Dean with a stupid, little brother grin on his face. She added, "Or about the time you got your ass kicked by fairies? Or when you became a dog in human form and bark-shouted at the postal worker? Oh, oh! OR the time you screamed bloody murder because you were scared of a widdle kitty cat?"

"Ah ha ha! I remember that! The Buruburu," Sam nodded, laughing along with George. Dean was glaring daggers at them. Sam looked at Jack and added gleefully, "It wasn't just cats--he was terrified of everything!"

"Like, literally, everything!" George buttressed with wide eyes, joyful eyes. "So funny." Then she looked at Jack and grinned, "Oh, hey! Have you ever been so annoyed by Dean that you maybe wondered what it might look like to see a piano fall on him? Well, there's an episode for that!" She and Jack laughed together and Dean looked confused. Sam gulped, sobering up suddenly.

"What? When did a piano fall on my head?"

George began to explain, "The myste-"

"Mystery spot," Sam interjected hoarsely. George looked at him, startled by the seriousness of his tone. Catching his eye, she gave him a questioning look. Quickly, he gave her a smile that didn't meet his eyes, waving her off gently.

"Oh, was that when Sam dreamt that I kept dying over and over again?"

"It wasn't a dream," George clarified quickly. "It was the trickster--or Gabriel? I'm still a little fuzzy on that whole situation honestly. But whomever it was, he had Sam in some kind of weird reality warp or time loop or his own virtual rat maze--whatever. I don't know exactly how it worked, but the experience was real. For Sam at least." She paused, smiling proudly at Dean's 'idgaf' face and continuing, "not real for you because you're obviously still alive," George finished. Then added as a quiet aside, "and a pain in my ass."

"Cute," Dean said sarcastically as she snickered. He offered, "How's about we rewind just a couple hours and talk about what you've been up to in Anne Frank's attic, hmm?"

She immediately stopped laughing and Sam snapped his head toward Dean. Sam looked like he was going to strangle the man.

She distracted quickly, reaching for the plate of scones on the desk and holding it up to Jack, "So, listen have you eaten? If you want to heal and get your strength up, you should probably eat something! Scone?" It sounded like a question but it wasn't one.

Sam shifted his foot on top of Dean's and discreetly pressed down hard.

Jack looked disappointed that they weren't staying on topic, but George quietly promised to fill him in later and he took the scone with a thankful smile. He ate slowly while the two brothers squabbled.

Once they quieted down, Jack asked George, "So how did you get here? To this reality?"

"Good question," Dean mused.

"Not really sure," George answered. "One minute I was in my apartment--coincidentally, watching Supernatural--and the next minute, I'm in the library at the bunker talking to Rowena. I guess she was doing some magic to keep the portal that Sam and Dean used to get to you in apocalypse world open. Somehow I came flying through it. That's as much as we know. Rowena has been MIA ever since and I was too nervous to tell anyone. Sam and Dean found out about me when you went missing and I was suspect numero uno."

"What?" Jack shook his head in disbelief. "Why would you be a suspect at all?" He looked between Sam and Dean with a stern expression. Sam looked guilty, Dean indignant yet apologetic.

George jumped in to defend them, "They were just doing their jobs. As far as they knew, I was the last one with you before you went missing. Long story short: Tim was a demon--a shitty one--he told them he saw us together and that I took you out of the bunker."

"Tim. He's the one who told me to go to the garage," Jack explained with a furrowed brow.

"Was he working with Tilly?" Sam asked in confusion.

Jack shook his head, "I doubt it; she hated him. Said he gave her the creeps."

George gave Dean and Sam a knowing expression, to which they looked sheepish. Then she offered, "He probably told Jack to go to the garage because he had set a trap for him?"

"The demon Tilly killed?" Jack guessed tentatively.

"Must have been," Dean nodded. "She comes looking for you, happens upon the demon, gets lucky, ices 'em, and uses it as her cover for getting you out of the house."

The four of them thought about it for a moment and then shrugged agreeably. It made as much sense as anything else at this point. Besides, their focus now needed to be keeping safe from the angels.

Jack broke the silence, suddenly looking at George nervously, "Wait, if you're not from this reality… does that mean you have to go back?"

George's mouth opened automatically to answer and then she froze, realizing she didn't know how. Of course she knew the answer was 'yes.' Obviously, yes, she had to go back. But when she tried to actually speak the words, it didn't feel so easy. She turned a bit pink, glancing at Sam and Dean briefly, then said weakly, "Another good question."

"One that needs some investigating," Sam answered Jack with an undertone of seriousness, subtly trying to catch George's eye, "but for now, we need to focus on getting you healed enough to travel home."

"Shouldn't be too long for that. Lorna said he was healing 'miraculously fast'," Dean offered with a skeptical tone. George grinned wide and squeezed Jack's hand tightly in happiness, but Sam was giving Dean a confused expression. Dean just shrugged and explained, "We're not sure how. Maybe his grace is coming back?"

"Hmm," Sam wasn't convinced, glancing between Jack and George slowly while he considered the information. After a moment he shrugged as well and said to Jack, "Well, no need to look a gift horse in the mouth yet. Besides, we also need to be prepared; with the amount of work they put into it, I would imagine the angels might not walk away from you so easily." He looked at Dean with concern and found him nodding in agreement.

"We should reinforce the warding. I'll call Cas; update him and see if there's anything stronger we can add," Dean said with a nod, whipping out his phone and dialing. When he left the room to make his phone call, Sam and George spent some time catching up with Jack.

The two of them tried to cheer him up from his feelings of guilt over Tilly, asked if he'd gotten any more insight on what the angel's were planning, and filled him in on their trip to find him, explaining a little bit more about George's other-wordly origins. George didn't move from his bedside; every so often she'd reach out to take Jack's hand and squeeze it tightly, relishing the warmth. She was so thrilled to see he was healing well, the image of his pale, dead body still looming in her subconscious.

______

A short while later, George walked into the cottage alone. She found Dean fresh out of the shower, toweling off his head. He was dressed in PJ pants and an old, faded whiskey brand shirt.

"Hiya!" George hadn't seen him since he left to call Cas. He nodded an acknowledgement and she told him, "Jack wanted to use the bathroom and take a shower, so Sam's helping. I see your stink finally got to you, too?" She jabbed with a chuckle.

"Hardy har," Dean smirked. "I was boosting the warding and things got messy."

"Well my nose thanks you either way," She cracked.

With a shake of his head he joked, "Are you familiar with the term 'little sister I never wanted'?"

George's impish smile faltered a bit and she shrugged, "Very." Dean furrowed his brow at her curiously and she explained with a shrug, "I have a brother; he's 10 years older. Travis."

"He's hard on you?" Dean asked, his tone much less gruff than she was used to.

"Very. We just never found any common ground, I guess; maybe 10 years was too big a gap or he was too big of a dick? It's a mystery," Dean huffed in amusement and she smiled. "Anyway, I was a surprise for the whole family and he'd gotten used to being a spoiled, only-child. At first, he had grand ideas of being the powerful, protective big brother whose baby sister was a perfect princess with stars in her eyes for him," George paused, seeming to get lost in her memories for a moment. After a beat she shrugged and smiled wryly, "He got me instead."

"A real princess," Dean said sarcastically with an amused smile.

She snorted, "Exactly! Though, in my defense his idea of being my protective big brother was just a lot of ordering me around and using me as the fall guy for everything."

"And?" He smirked like only an annoying big brother can. He clearly didn't see a problem with her description.

George rolled her eyes in frustration, "Ugh, you sound exactly like Ryan."

"Is that someone I should know?"

"Absolutely," George nodded definitively. "Remember? My-"

"Oh right, your friend, the--the--What'd you call her? Your 'Winchester Wiki'?" He shook his head in amusement.

"Exactly! My friend--my beautiful, smart, incredibly badass best friend and Supernatural savant, Ryan. Also like a sister to me; wonderfully supportive, helped me through a lot of shit, but does tend to favor the 'tough-love' approach," She said in a tone that indicated she knew Dean could relate. When he didn't immediately comment, she added, "She also never turns down a bourbon, makes the best pecan pie in all of Indiana--possibly the country--and she's got a fantastic pair of--" She waited for his eyebrow to raise curiously before finishing, "--.38 glocks." His face quickly dropped in only slight disappointment but she could tell he was intrigued, which made her smirk joyfully, "Got all kinds of fancy engravings. I don't know spit about guns, but they're cool as shit. And did I mention she was beautiful?"

"Once or twice," Dean mused, shaking his head with a half smile. "She sounds too good to be true."

"Well, that's what I thought about S-er, the two of you and look where we are, now?" She joked. "She's definitely not too good to be true, but she is a bit geographically undesirable at present..."

"You trying to fix me up?" Dean snorted.

"Oh that's crazy, don't be ridiculous!" She laughed, waving him off. "I mean, how could I possibly even pull that off…" Trailing off slowly, Dean narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. When it seemed like she was actually considering the possibilities, he cleared his throat pointedly, snapping her out of her thoughts. With a chuckle, she refocused, "Er, anyway! My brother? Right, yes, well when my independence got in the way of his award for world's best brother, he turned on me; kinda became the thing I could have used a big brother to protect me from. He never saw the irony there," She joked, trying to keep the mood light, but Dean could tell it was a painful subject for her.

After a moment of awkward silence, Dean apologized, "Well, sorry if I-"

George waved him off, "No, please. You're fine. As annoying as you are, the big brother vibe I'm getting is far less hostile than Travis' was--is. Is." She had to remember to speak in the present tense. Her family wasn't dead, they just didn't exist. Here. Shaking the confusing thoughts from her head she added, "Besides, it's not exactly his fault; I could have let him be the brother he wanted to be. I just never felt like I needed protecting."

Dean chortled quickly, "Because you're so tough?" George narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance but it's not like she could argue. Suddenly, Dean's expression changed to a thoughtful one. He set down his towel, "Speakin'a which, c'mere."

Motioning for her to follow, he walked to the small, 8' x 8' open space in the main room. He placed two hands on her shoulders and maneuvered her into position close to the edge of the square, near the back of the loveseat.

"What are we doing?" She asked in confusion, though still allowing him to move her.

"Teaching you how to protect yourself." His tone was matter-of-fact. She assumed Dean didn't take the time to train people he didn't think were capable, so it surprised her. Feeling very honored, she ignored her immediate instincts to argue with him and tried to pay attention.

Tapping her body in certain spots as he spoke he instructed, "Active stance--allows you to move quickly. Keep most of your weight on the balls of your feet, bend your knees a bit. Right or left handed?"

"Uh--right!" She answered hastily.

He placed a hand on her right shoulder and pressed it backward, "Position yourself to the side, dominant side furthest from your opponent." He lifted clenched fists to his cheeks and instructed, "Keep your hands up here. About at your cheeks. Makes it so you can throw punches fast and still protect your face." She lifted her hands, too, mimicking his movements. "Rule number one when fighting monsters: there are no rules. Their goal is to kill you. Your goal is to survive, and you aren't bound by any etiquette, so you do whatever you have to."

"Fuck politeness, got it," She nodded understandingly.

"You want to aim for anything squishy: eyes, cheeks, nose, throat, stomach--"

"Nads?" She interjected with a chuckle.

"Well, yes and no; it's not going to slow down demons or angels the same way it would slow me down. That being said, it's as good a place as any to stab. Use everything you can: your hands, your nails, your teeth, your feet, your body weight. Even your environment; look for things you can grab and swing, furniture you can use to trip them up with, any distractions you have at your disposal is fair game." As he spoke, he pointed to things around the room she could potentially use for defense. "And almost anything can be a weapon. One time, I even used a pen! But, don't try that right away. It's an advanced skill," He added with a smug tone of caution. She had to hide her eye roll.

When he was done impressing upon her the importance of creativity and resourcefulness, they spent about 15 minutes on proper stance and positioning. Dean then had her practicing a few punches into his hand. He watched her closely, providing quick, direct corrections that she tried her best to keep up with.

"OK, good," He praised flatly when she finally landed a succession of strong punches into his palm. He positioned himself in front of her as an opponent and ordered, "Now, try to punch me in the face."

George hesitated, dropping her shoulders a bit, "What?"

Dean quickly moved over to her and roughly shifted her body back into position. "I said," He then moved back in front of her, "Try to punch me in the face."

"...Are you sure?" She asked curiously. She couldn't deny that it did sound like fun.

Dean smirked smugly, "I'm sure. Try to punch me."

Hesitating for only a moment more before doing her best to maintain the ideal stance, she swung and missed predictably. He corrected a few things and advised, "You've got a good stance, you need to focus on follow-through; don't hold back because you think you might hurt me. Remember when you thought I was Michael and you came at me with the cleaver?"

George nodded, remembering, "Right, I do. That was terrifying--thought you were going to kill me."

"Exactly. You gotta use that fear and commit. And remember what I said: be creative, use all your resources. Just because you missed the first swing doesn't mean you need to stop."

Not entirely sure how to interpret his advice--was she supposed to grab a lamp and start swinging?--she mainly corrected her posture and tried three more times. She missed each time, but was improving.

She got back into position and took a determined breath, focusing her energy on landing her knuckles across his cocky face. Just as she was about to swing the cottage door opened and Sam walked in. Dean turned slightly to look at him and without thinking George swung as hard as she could. Her third knuckle took the brunt as she landed her fist on the top of his cheekbone and he jerked back slightly, letting out a grunt of pain and shock.

"Ow!" She howled, holding her now throbbing hand gently. Then, she stared at Dean, who was holding his hand up over his cheek. In shock, she blurted, "Oh my god, I--!"

"You punched me!" Dean shouted indignantly.

"I did!" She shouted happily back.

"Fuckin' cheap shot," Dean was annoyed but it was waning by the second, realizing he was actually impressed at how good the hit had been. For her, anyway.

"You told me to use any distraction! When you looked away, I saw my opportunity," George grinned proudly, her eyes wide still; she couldn't believe she'd actually hit him. Holding her hand tenderly, she looked at Sam with an amazed grin, "I punched Dean Winchester!" Sam was confused but her pride was charming, so he gave a small thumbs up and smiled. Walking over to her, he inspected her hand carefully for injury.

Dean walked over to the freezer, shaking his head, "Yea, yea, yea. Not bad, it might even leave a mark." Though his form of praise seemed sarcastic, he said it with sincerity causing her to beam. The only things in the freezer were a can of juice concentrate and an ice tray, both of which he pulled out and set on the counter, "but you still need to practice landing the hits when there aren't any distractions."

She rolled her eyes at his perfectionism and looked at Sam, who was gently poking and prodding her sore fingers, "Is he always like this?"

"Pfft. Didn't you say you watched the show?" Sam joked, guiding her over to the sink where Dean was wrapping some ice cubes in a dish towel. When they got close, Dean handed her the makeshift ice pack. Sam took it before she could and maneuvered her hand to rest gently, palm down in his, assessing, "It was a good punch but you want to try to land primarily with these top two knuckles." Sam kept hold of the ice pack with three fingers and extended his first two, placing them gently on her top two knuckles in demonstration. He explained, "They're the strongest. These back two are much weaker and very easily broken, or in your case, badly bruised. Boxing lessons?" Sam then asked his brother with a smirk. Dean shrugged affirmatively.

"How is it that I land a good punch and end up in more pain than you?" George grumbled at Dean, slowly getting distracted by Sam's tenderness.

"He's had more practice being punched than you've had punching people," Sam quipped, moving to lay the ice pack against her knuckles.

"That's very presumptuous-oowww! Son of a bitch!" She growled at him, flinching when the cold, stiff material pressed against her injury.

"Is it?" Sam teased her, pulling her hand back firmly, yet carefully, and placing the ice pack down more gently. George shivered a bit; from the icy temperature, of course, certainly not from his manhandling.

"Princess says what," Dean muttered at her with a laugh. Clearly having heard him, she stuck her tongue out at him quickly. Dean held the juice concentrate up to his cheek with a smirk, "Probably gonna need some more pain meds."

"Oh, actually that's why I came looking for you," Sam interjected, looking down at her. "Jack fell asleep after I got him dressed and back in bed. Thanks for changing the sheets, by the way," He smiled gratefully and she smiled back with a bit of a blush, her fingers wiggling against his palm.

"You're welcome," She murmured softly.

Sam paused, getting lost in her eyes, then explained, "Um, anyway, Lorna called and instructed me to give Jack his next round of fluids and meds. Figured you might need some too." The two lovebirds stared at each other for a beat, before Sam nodded toward his pants, "The pills are in my pocket." George momentarily considered reaching her uninjured hand into his front pocket and feeling around; when she met his eye briefly, she could tell he had the same thought. They both blushed.

"For fucks sake, you two," Dean scolded them, turning away to grab a glass of water. He considered tossing it on them.

"Uh, here--why don't I--" George awkwardly reached up and took the ice pack from Sam's hand, freeing him up to reach into his pocket for the pills. She set the rag of ice down carefully on the counter top to be able to then take the pills from him. Tossing them into her mouth, she took the water from Dean next and quickly gulped them down.

"Blech!" She hated the feeling of medicine on her tongue.

Sam grabbed the ice pack quickly and took her hand again, placing the ice gingerly on top. They began sharing googly eyes at each other once more. Dean rolled his eyes when they started giggling for no reason; he could tell his brother had it bad.

"Alright, well, if Jack's down, then I'm going to hit the sack, too. You crazy kids have fun." As much as he wanted to enjoy this, he figured he'd give Sam a break just this once. Maybe he was going soft. Or not, "Try to remember, the walls are thin and there are no doors, so keep the moaning down to a dull roar." With a smug smirk he headed up the stairs.