Dean wasn't sure how he'd been standing there when Sam and Rachel walked in.

"Dude, am I glad to see you," he said, turning from his body on the bed.

They both ignored him.

"Jesus," Sam whispered. He looked shell shocked, about how Dean himself felt. "He was getting better. He was getting better, what the hell happened?"

Rachel shook her head. Her eyes were crimson, tears standing in them. When Dean came up behind her, he saw that her hair was in braids, but they were unraveling halfway down her back. No time, then, to tie them off. Dean didn't know whether to be grateful that she'd dropped everything to come for him, or exasperated that she was so incredibly beautiful but never made the effort to show it off.

"I know what you know, Sam." She wiped her eye with one finger. "He went up to see your Dad. Overtaxed his heart. The wiring snapped, he lost blood. He fell out of the wheelchair, smacked his head on the bed and the floor." Her chin trembled. "And that exacerbated previously unknown brain damage that occurred in the original crash."

"What?" Dean shouted. "No. No, no, no, I do not have brain damage. I'm fine. Really. Rach... Rachel, dammit, stop crying and listen to me!" His hands hovered over her shoulders, face in hers.

She looked right through him.

"This is ridiculous. Every time we turn our back on him, that demon does something," Sam said.

"So stop the damn demon," demanded Dean. "Christ, why are you so stupid. Do something already."

Rachel looked at him. "You think the demon did this?"

"Makes sense. It made Dean stop breathing the last time. Why not this time?"

"Because this time Dean wasn't just dreaming. He snuck out of his room. Walked down the hall. Moved around, pulled some stitches. Tired himself out. He coulda just... done this to himself."

"We're getting a divorce." He stepped away from Rachel to Sam. "Look, Sam. You're right. The demon must have done this. You've got to help me. Go find some hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me. I'll be fine."

Rachel rubbed her temples. With a sigh, she her head against Sam's good shoulder. "I'm so afraid this is it. Dr. Isaacosn said there's a chance he won't wake up this time."

Sam's jaw set, like it always did when he was about to get stubborn about something. "No. No, if the doctor's can't do anything, we'll have to. That's all. I don't know. I'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him."

Dean grinned, feeling exuberant. "Yes! You can hear me, Sammy, say that you can hear me!"

But Sam completely ignored him. He slipped his arm around Rachel and squeezed her. "We'll figure this out, Rachel. Don't worry."

"Yeah." Tentatively, Dean put his hand on Rachel's arm. "Sam will take care of it. He already found one faith healer, right? No problem for him to pull me out again. You just... concentrate on getting that box and getting the demon parts out of Dad. Don't worry about me. I'm not going to leave you."

She didn't looked comforted. She did twitch her arm under his hand. And the look on her face was troubled. His girl was thinking about something and, somehow, Dean wasn't sure he was going to like it.

---

"Mrs. Winchester?"

Rachel opened her eyes. She had been dozing on the cot next to Dean's bed. Her and Sam's pledge to get at least three hours of sleep, if not more, had been thwarted by the unwelcome call about Dean's new condition.

Rose was standing above her. There was a package tucked under one arm, and a bag of what smelled like chicken in her other hand.

"Is Dean okay?" she asked, sitting up. She shivered. Her back was so cold; it even seeped through the blanket she'd had wrapped around her.

"Dean's ... as well as he was before. Here. I brought you lunch." She handed the bag to Rachel. "There's enough for Sam, too, when he reappears."

"Thank you so much." Famished, she tore into the bag and pulled out a fried chicken sandwich.

"You're welcome, honey. Gotta keep your strength up, after all."

"Rose, I swear to you. I am not pregnant."

Rose just smiled at her. "Here. This was delivered to the hospital, but it's for you and Sam. You don't live here, you know."

Rachel took the box and read the label with a frown. "Yeah, I know. I'll tell whoever sent it not to send me stuff here. Sorry."

"It's all right. I'll be back later." The nurse pat her on the head then left the room.

She took another huge bite of the sandwich, then set it next to her. Her keys cut through the packing tape. "Yes!" Rachel jumped off the cot, upsetting the sandwich and the bag. She didn't notice. "Sam!" Holding the box to her chest, Rachel ran out of the room.

"Slow down!" someone shouted at her as she ran down the hall. She weaved through a few patients slowly shuffling, connected to their IV and heart monitors. The elevator would take too long, so she burst into the stair well. At least John was staying on a lower floor, although, of course, she tripped over the last few steps. The box in her arms skidded on the floor in front of her. She caught herself on her wrists, painfully, and skidded after the box. She stopped just inches from the next set of stairs, and with a painful jerk.

Heart thundering, Rachel pushed herself up. "Owe!" she exclaimed. She sat back on her ankles--which were strangely cold--and grabbed her right wrist. "Fuck." It looked swollen already.

She took quick stock of the rest of her body. Her stomach hurt from doing a belly flop on the floor. Both wrists ached, although it was mainly concentrated in her right. Her hips hurt; when she'd stopped, it'd felt like her legs had been yanked backwards. Both ankles were still cold, although warming up. When she stood, her legs felt like jelly, but that was probably from the adrenaline.

She picked up the box and continued down the stairs, much slower this time. Now, it's her elbow that's freezing cold. And she's starting to get an idea of what might be going on with that, but she doesn't know how to go about asking. If Dean was with her, that means that he wasn't in his body. And, in general, that was a bad thing. With everything that'd been going on lately, her mind always ran directly to pessimism. If it was Dean, she didn't want him to hear her worries. So, she wouldn't let on that she thought he might be there. Not yet.

Sam was in his father's room, reading through his journal.

"Sam," Rachel said, coming in.

"What happened to you?"

"I fell, it's not important." She set the box on John's bed. "My father found a Pandora's Box." She tried to reach in and take it out, but it proved too much for her wrist. "Can you get it out?"

"Did you break your wrist?" Sam demanded as he rose. He reached inside and pulled the small wooden box from the package.

"Maybe, I don't know. Can we focus on the important part? We can cure your dad."

Sam turned the box over in his hands. It was small, just about the size of his palm. The lock was intricate; the key just inside. Along the top was a thick, heavy piece of glass.

Rachel touched it. "This is the part you hold over the body. Anything demonic gets sucked up through it and trapped inside." She leaned against the bed, cradling her wrist against her chest.

"And you're sure this is all we need? I mean, no chants or incense or exorcism or priests or anything? Just the box."

"Just the box." She smiled, feeling pleased that something was going right for them. "So. We can do this right now. When did the nurse last come in?"

"About ten minutes ago. We have time." Sam set the box on the bed. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and walked to the door. "Do you think the demon will give us any problems about this?" he asked as he closed it.

"I don't know. I don't see why it would affect it at all, really." She picked the box up and looked at John. "So. Do you want to do the honors?" It really didn't seem like it should fall to her. He wasn't her father. And she knew Sam had been feeling helpless since Dean slipped back into a coma.

Sam swallowed. Set his jaw and crossed the room. "We have two good arms between us," he said. He stood on the opposite side of the bed from her and held out his good arm.

Rachel's lips twitched. She put the box in his hand. Together, they lowered it to John's head. "Just above," she said. "Close."

He nodded. "Is there an on switch or..." His voice died abruptly as a power and dark mist surged from John's head in a swirling vortex. It hovered over John's face before being sucked into the box. "Okay then."

The process was repeated as they moved the box down over John's body. First, his neck. Right arm. Left. His chest took a few times, and the sheer amount of demon left in his body made Rachel feel ill.

Of course, the darkening air around them didn't help either.

"Is it getting hot in here?" Sam asked.

"Cold, maybe." She shivered. Then it got worse when her entire back was blanketed by cold. "Not helping," she snapped over her shoulder.

"What isn't helping?" Sam asked.

The blanket disappeared. "Nothing."

They moved the box to the stomach. Down over his pelvis. Along his right leg, then up his left. And they were done.

Rachel and Sam's eyes met over John's still body.

"Is that it?"

"I'm not sure," Rachel said.

The lights flickered. Electric crackling filled her ears.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I don't..."

The box exploded.

She shrieked, body yanked back across the room. She hit the wall hard and fell to the floor, dazed. Before she could stand, every chair was piled around her, trapping her in.

"Rachel!" She heard Sam shout.

"What's going on?" She peeked through the arm of one chair, trying to see.

Black smoke swirled in the air just above Sam. It snaked around him, tendrils stretched out before being drawn back into the main mass.

Sam looked transfixed. Frozen, just looking into the blackness.

It seemed to reach for him.

"Sam!" Rachel yelled.

Sam lunged sideways in an abrupt moment. His body was launched away from the mass and slid under the bed.

The mass quivered. Swirled around once more and then fled through the vent in the ceiling.

The lights normalized. The air felt warm and safe again.

"Sam?" Rachel called. She pushed the chairs out of her way, freeing herself from the prison. "Sam, are you okay?" She crawled across the floor to the bed.

Sam pulled himself from underneath. "I'm fine. You fine?"

"I'm fine." Rachel licked her lips, her heart still racing. "I guess the demon was trapped to John as long as part of it was still inside him. Maybe it's gone now for good."

"No more dreams?" he asked, smiling crookedly.

"God I hope not."

He nodded. "Yeah. Me too."

And then, he leaned in and kissed her.

Rachel jerked back. "Sam!"

"I'm sorry! God, I'm still... Jesus, I'm sorry. Shit. I..."

"Sam?"

Sam went completely still at the sound of the voice above them on the bed. Then his eyes went wide. Color rushed to his face and his mouth split into a smile. "Dad!"