Emily woke to voices all around her. She didn't open her eyes but she noticed she was no longer holding Dean's hand. She could hear machines beeping around her. Was she in a hospital? Emily had only been allowed in one once or twice. Her father insisted on taking care of her himself. Emily slowly pried her eyes open. She was weak and couldn't move her left arm. Emily looked around the room, lit brightly by irritating florescent lights. She looked around the room for Dean but found that only Sam was sitting next to her, holding her hand. He looked over at her and sat up straight when he noticed she was awake. Emily had cuts on her face and littering the rest of her body from broken glass. Her left arm was broken and in a cast. She had some bruises but other than that she was all right. Emily was small and for that she was lucky in the accident. She didn't get hurt as badly as she should have.
"Hey," Sam said quietly. He leaned a little closer to her and brushed her brown hair out of her face. "How are you feeling?"
Emily didn't say anything at first. She took another look around the room looking for Dean. Where was Dean? Was he all right? "Dean," she whispered.
Sam sighed and looked down. There was fear in Sam's eyes when he looked at Emily again. How could he tell her? He didn't want to think about it himself. How could he tell her the only person that ever took care of her was lying in a coma down the hall? Sam took a deep breath and looked straight into Emily's eyes. She had such innocent, almost childlike eyes. "Dean was hurt, in the accident. He umm… He had some head injuries. He's… he's still asleep right now," Sam said quietly. Sam saw the tears that welled up in Emily's eyes and he held her hand a little tighter. "The doctors don't think that he'll wake up Emily. But, don't worry, because you and me… we can find a way. We can save him."
Emily looked at Sam as though she didn't understand what he was talking about. Dean was always fine. He was indestructible, at least in Emily's eyes. Tears filled her eyes as Sam spoke. "Bu… but… but he… he's Dean."
"I know," Sam whispered. "Do you want to see him Emily?" She nodded slowly and Sam helped her up. Sam was surprised her thin legs could even hold her up. He held her hand and led her to Dean's room. She stared at him as she walked over to his bed. There were tubes stuck in him and machines all around him. Emily looked back at Sam in fear as Sam walked up behind her, holding her reassuringly. Sam and Emily had gotten very close since they first met. It only made sense that they would, since they shared the same fate and the same kind of love for Dean. She knew what to tell people now. She knew who she was. She was a Winchester. Dean was her brother, Sam was too. She had family now and that family was lying on a bed unable to breathe on his own, unable to wake up. She reached out and took Dean's hand, holding it for a long time but didn't say a word.
"Sam," a voice came from the corner. Emily hadn't even noticed him when she walked in. Sitting in the corner of the room was John Winchester. He was just sitting there, watching Dean.
Emily turned to him and glared. That man had hurt Dean, killed him in her eyes. Now his son was lying on his deathbed and all he could do was watch. Emily needed a moment to see Dean, to get over the initial shock of what had happened. She planned on helping Sam find a way to save Dean. Why wasn't John helping? "You selfish son of a bitch," she muttered. Sam looked down at Emily with a shocked questioning expression. She had been around Dean too much, she was starting to pick up on his expressions. "How can… can… can you ju… just… just sit… sit here an… and wat… watch him die," she asked. Emily's voice was still soft and she had some trouble speaking but she was getting much better. There was anger, hatred in her voice. "Why don't… don't you fix… fix wh… what you've… you've broken?!" The room itself began to shake and that's when Sam took Emily in his arms and turned her away from John, to look at Dean.
"Shh," he whispered to her, holding her close. She had to know she was safe in order for her to calm down. "He'll be all right Emily."
"He's broken," she whispered looking down at Dean. For a moment Emily thought she heard his voice. She thought she heard him say he wasn't broken, but she figured she must have been imagining things. "He can't be broken, he's Dean," she whispered looking up at Sam.
Emily sat in a chair next to Dean's bed. She had been there for hours while Sam was running around. She would have gone with Sam, done anything to help Sam make Dean better but Sam told her to stay put. So she did, right by Dean's side. She wasn't about to leave it. Dean, or Dean's spirit, stood in the corner, watching all this unfold and unable to do a damn thing about it. He watched Emily's small pale hand take his own and Dean sighed softly. He walked up to stand behind her and listened to the girl cry. He wished there was something he could do, some way to tell her everything would be all right. Dean thought about the past few months, ever since they met her. She latched onto Dean from the moment she woke up and saw him.
Sometimes Dean wished she had picked Sam to latch onto, to depend on. He didn't know if he could handle the pressure of her dependence as well as Sam's. Still, when Dean looked down at her, holding his hand as he lay in the hospital bed he couldn't help but wonder what life would be like without the girl. He'd most likely be dead now if Emily hadn't burst through that door. Dean owed his life to the girl. He had already done so much for her though. Emily was the first person outside of Dean's family that he killed for. He didn't even flinch when he killed her father. Dean would rather himself be a killer than her. She wasn't meant to be a killer and Dean would never let her turn into one. However he didn't really have much say in her life now that he was lying in a coma in a hospital. It made it difficult to protect her.
Dean glanced down at her when he heard her speak. Her voice tore at his heart. He wanted nothing more than to be able to wrap his arms around her and tell her she'd be all right. It was part of his protective nature. He sighed when he heard her words. "You.. you ca… can't leave," she whispered with a hoarse and tear-filled voice. "You… you can't leave me."
"I won't," he whispered though she couldn't hear it. "I swear it to you Emily, I'll find a way back. I'll take care of you and Sammy. Don't worry." His voice was filled with conviction it was almost frantic. He wanted her to hear him. "Don't worry Emily." Dean knelt next to her and watched the tears fall from his face. He turned quickly and looked to his father who was still sitting in the corner. "Come on Dad! Do something! Look at her! You're killing her! You're killing me!" Why wasn't his father helping? Dean looked down at Emily and set his face to one of resolve. "Don't worry Em. I won't leave you and Sammy alone. I promise."
Dean didn't remember any of that though when he woke. He was just happy to see Emily and Sam by his side, to see his father. At least he was until his father uttered what would be his last words. "You have to save him, them. Dean you have to save them." John spoke of a destiny for Sam and Emily that terrified Dean. Killers? He had promised Emily when he first met her that he would never let her become a killer and now he learns that it was part of her destiny. "If you can't save them you have to kill them son. You have to." Kill them? Dean couldn't kill Sam or Emily for that matter. Then, just like that his father was gone, dead. Dean stood in the doorway and watched as they called John's time of death and Dean felt as though he would collapse. Emily stood by his side with a look of confusion on her face. She held Dean's hand and told him everything would be all right. Somehow though, it was impossible for Dean to believe the girl's optimistic words.
Emily spent the next few weeks following John's death with the boys at Bobby's. Bobby quickly because a surrogate father to Emily, taking some of he responsibility off of Dean's shoulders. Emily spent those few weeks observing the boys' behavior. Dean had become, hardly talking to anyone. He spent hours outside working on his car. Emily would sit with him. The only words spoken between the two of them were Dean asking for new tools. Sam was the complete opposite. He had grown protective and nurturing towards Emily. It was almost too much. Emily stayed the same after John's death. She didn't understand why it had affected Sam and Dean the way it had. When her father died, she was relieved. Why didn't the boys feel that way?
"Emily," Bobby began. He sat at his desk with Emily sitting on top of it, hugging her knees. "Sam and Dean have a very different kind of relationship with their father. John loved his boys and tried to do what was right. He raised those boys on his own."
"My da… daddy lov… loved me," she whispered, still confused. "Tha… that… that's what he… he always… always told me."
Bobby sighed loudly. Emily had no understanding of love, compassion, right and wrong. This would be almost impossible to explain to her. Then the idea struck him. "Em, do you remember how you felt seeing Dean lying in that hospital bed?" She nodded slowly, her eyes welling up with tears at the memory. "Think of how you would feel if he never woke up. That's what the boys are going through." Emily slowly looked away from Bobby. She would have been devastated if Dean never woke up. It hurt her just to think about it.
When Bobby had explained all that to Emily, Sam and Dean had gone to find a woman named Ellen Harvelle. She was apparently a contact of John's. Dean had called a few hours before Emily and Bobby's discussion. He told Bobby they found a case and would be home in a few days.
Sure enough a couple days later Sam and Dean had returned. There was even more tension between them. Neither spoke a word. Sam walked inside and Dean headed to his car to continue working on it. Emily kept her distance for a while until she heard Sam come storming back into the house. They had been fighting. Emily walked outside in time to see Dean beating the backend of his car with what looked to be a tire iron. Emily stood there in silent terror as Dean finally dropped the weapon and noticed her standing there. Dean took a step towards her, seeing the fear in her eyes. As he took a step forward she instinctively jumped back. "Emily," he whispered with a sigh.
Emily stared at him for a few moments. Then she silently walked over to him. Emily looked up at him but said nothing. She simply wrapped her arms around him. Dean wrapped his around her as well and Emily could hear him crying softly. "Don't," she whispered. "Ple… please don't… don't turn into him," she whispered. Dean leaned back and stared, puzzled, into her brown eyes. "These," she whispered wiping away his tears, "these aren… aren't ba… bad. Please… ple… please don't… don… don't tur… turn in… into him. Ju… just… just st… st… stay Dean."
Dean chuckled and hugged her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Don't worry Em, I'll be okay." Dean kissed her forehead lightly and smiled at her, pulling her hair out of her face. "You wanna help me get my baby all fixed up?"