Breathe

“What?” Dean says sharply. “She has to.”
“She might have some brain damage.” Sam chokes out. “Dammit, Dean, look at her. She got the worst of it.” Dean shoots a look at his brother, his nostrils flaring. He wants to spit back another remark, but bites his lip instead. This was his fault. All his fault, and she could possibly not come back because of it. She slowly turns his head from his brother, back to the girl on the bed. She looks so small and fragile, like she might break any second. Purple, red, and black bruise cover the majority of her right side, and many sprinkling to the other half. Her chest barely rises with each breath, powered mostly by the machine at this point. Despite her face being more pale than usual, she’s still his beautiful baby sister.
“This was all my fault.” He murmurs, taking her hand in his. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sam huffs. “You can’t blame yourself for this. All of the witnesses say it was the car behind you.”
“Yeah bu-“
“Dean.” Sam says, walking over and putting his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “No one knew this was going to happen, you couldn’t have done anything to stop it.” The pain filled green eyes turn to look up at Sam, knowing that he’s right. This should still be him in this bed, not her. He promised since the day she was born that he would always protect her, and now look at her.
“It’s always the normal stuff that gets us,” Sam snorts, shuffling across the room and dragging a chair closer to the bed. “Damn car wreck, man. Nothing supernatural about that. Next time we’re in the hospital, we probably tripped over a curb.”
Dean laughs lightly, a smirk rising on his lips, thankful for his brother and his ability to always lighten the mood. He runs a finger along Emmy’s face, cursing himself silently.
“She’ll wake up, don’t worry. She always does.”

“Emalina?” I turn sharply, whipping around to find the source of the familiar voice. Everything is dark, like nothing is there.
“Who’s there?” I call, my weak voice echoing.
“Open your eyes, Emalina.” I turn my head around, try to find something to focus on, but there was nothing. What if that’s… what if this is a trick? It’s not like I have much of a choice. Taking my chances, I take a deep breath, closing my eyes. I roll my neck around a few times, calming my extremely tense muscles, and then open my eyes again.
Old wallpaper clings to the wall, worn and torn here and there. Bookshelves cover the rest of the wall space, along with papers scattered here and there. Bobby’s house.
I sit up slowly from the couch, finding a person sitting to the side of me. An unfamiliar face, though I get a weird feeling about her. She has long, blonde, curly hair, and the softest green eyes I’ve ever seen. She smiles at me, lighting her whole face up.
“Hello, darling.”
“Mom?” my voice cracks. I run my eyes over every feature of her face, landing with her eyes, and wave of calmness come over me.
“It’s good to see you again.” She grins. She opens her arms and gently starts to wrap them around me, before I jump and reach her first. I coil my arms around her, breathing in her scent, feeling her touch, and holding on to her voice.
“I can’t believe it’s you.” I whimper, a few tears escaping down my face. I never got the opportunity to meet or know my parents, since they were killed when I just turned a month old. From there, I went to live with their best friends, Mary and John Winchester, who had two sons; Sam that’s four months older than me, and Dean would was four years older. Mary ended up getting killed by the same demon, right about when Sam turned six months old. John never really stuck around much, so we got dropped off at Bobby’s house, who pretty much raised us.
“Look at the woman you’ve become.” Mom beams, softly taking my head in her hands, running her thumbs along my jaw line. “I’m so proud of you.” I smile weakly.
“Where… where am I?”
“Oh, baby. You’re in heaven.” She says, dropping her hands from my face, but not before brushing a piece of my hair behind my ear. My heart skips a beat, the breath getting caught in my throat.
Heaven? So I’m… “But not permanently, dear.” She grins again, which causes my whole body to relax again. “You’re just asleep, currently. You’re not done down there, and you still have to keep those boys in line!” she laughs. I laugh along too, still studying every feature on her face.
“Where’s Daddy?” I ask her.
“I’ve only waited 23 years to hear that,” a voice comes from the doorway. I look up to see a very tall man, with dark hair and the brightest, piercing blue eyes, leaning against the doorframe. “Hello, sweetheart.” I stumble off of the couch and jump into his arms without a single thought. I breathe in a nice mixture of tobacco and peppermint, along with some aftershave. I cling to him tightly, my whole life running through my mind, every single time I wished I could just have my parents back. Bobby always talked about them, and how great of people they were, but nothing compares to their soft touch, their smell, just… them.
He buries his face in my hair, squeezing my back equally as tight. I still can’t believe it, the fact that I have my parents in my arms, in reach, even right in front of me. Practically strangers, but none of that even matters.
“It’s time for you to wake up, baby.” He says lowly. “It’s time for you to go home.”
“But…” I open my mouth, then close it again, taking a deep breath. “I love you guys.”
“As well love you.” They smile.
“We’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” Dad promises, kissing the top of my forehead, and then everything is black again.