A loud banging on the door yanked Dean from a deep, dreamless sleep, his mind fuzzy as he tried to make sense of where he was. He felt the bed shift next to him, and his gaze turned to his right to find Nadia still beside him. Her soft breathing, and the warmth of her body next to his, kept him grounded in a way he didn't expect.

He didn't want to admit it, but it helped. He'd slept through the night without being haunted by the memories, and it was the first real sleep he'd gotten in months.

The banging on the door came again, louder this time, and both of them stirred. Nadia sat up first, rubbing her eyes and yawning. 

"I got it," Dean muttered, shaking himself awake and tossing the covers off. He wasn't quite ready to face the day, but duty called. 

He opened the door to find Sam standing in the hallway, fully dressed and looking ready to go. Sam's eyes scanned the room before landing on him, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. 

"Well, good mornin', you two," Sam teased, his voice light, but with a glint of amusement.

Dean immediately stepped into the doorway to block Sam's view of the room. "It's not what you think," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't push the issue. "Right, okay. We should get going. I found out where the newlyweds live." 

Dean glanced back at Nadia, still lounging on the bed, her hair tousled and her eyes still half-closed. "We'll be ready in ten," he called to her before starting to shut the door.

But Sam wasn't finished. He stopped the door with his foot and gave his brother an incredulous look. "Can I help you?" Dean muttered, his patience wearing thin.

Sam shook his head, his grin widening. "Dean... this isn't your room." 

Dean froze, the realization dawning on him a moment too late. He looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Oh, yeah. Right." His gaze flicked over to Nadia, who was trying and failing to stifle a laugh. "Ten minutes?" 

"Ten minutes," Nadia replied with a knowing smile, waving them off as she lay back down.

Once the door closed, Nadia let out a quiet chuckle, rolling over onto her side with a wide grin.

Dean, on the other hand, stood outside in the hallway for a moment, still embarrassed by his brother's teasing. He rubbed his face with a groan, already anticipating the jokes that were sure to come.

"Let's go easy on this one," suggested Nadia as they approached the newlyweds' home, her voice calm and controlled, but with a hint of empathy in it.

"Easy on him?" Dean scoffed, shaking his head. Sam shared the same sentiment with a quiet grunt of disbelief.

"Morally, this Wesley dude was wrong, but obviously, this was an 'I'm desperate-not-to-be-alone' sort of situation," Nadia continued, her tone softening a bit.

"Doesn't make it right," Sam said, his jaw tightening as he crossed his arms.

"Right, but it's kind of sad and pathetic, no?" Nadia's eyes flicked from one brother to the other, waiting for some sort of acknowledgment.

The boys exchanged a brief look, sharing an unspoken understanding that this situation was a bit more complicated than they had hoped.

"I know what you're thinking. Blame it on the halo all you want, I don't care," Nadia added with a shrug, keeping her voice steady. "Let me do the talking. If he refuses to come with us, then you can go all Winchester on him. Deal?"

The boys opened their mouths to reply, but she cut them off with a quick gesture.

"All right, deal. Good talk." Nadia spun around and confidently knocked on the door, before either of the Winchesters could say anything.

Hope answered, and up close, she was just as stunning as she had appeared from a distance. Even more so, in fact. With the body of a model and the face of a sweetheart, she seemed like she was out of Wes's league by society's standards.

"Hi, Hope, isn't it?" Nadia greeted, offering her hand with a warm smile.

"Uh, yes. Can I help you?" Hope asked, her curiosity piqued.

"You can," Nadia replied smoothly. "I'm Nadia, this is Sam and Dean. We were called by your fiancé, Wesley, to come by and arrange some floral arrangements for your wedding."

Hope gasped, clutching her chest in mock shock. "He didn't."

"Oh, he did!" Nadia said, her smile widening as she glanced at Sam and Dean, who joined in the charade with their own teasing grins.

"Oh my god!" Hope exclaimed, stepping back and ushering them in. "Come in, come in." She led them through the front door, guiding them into the living room where Wesley was sitting in a recliner, looking slightly disheveled.

"Wes!" Hope called out as she walked into the room, her hands on her hips in a mock stern stance. "You didn't tell me you called the florists for the wedding!"

"Huh?" Wesley frowned, momentarily confused.

"You're the best," Hope gushed, walking over to him and planting a big kiss on his forehead. "I'm gonna go get my folders."

"Uh, o-okay," he said, watching her leave the room with a nervous smile.

The moment Hope disappeared down the hallway, the tension in the room shifted. Sam and Dean both fixed Wesley with piercing stares.

"Don't worry about them," Nadia reassured him, placing a hand on the back of the couch and leaning toward him. "Wesley, right?"

"You can call me Wes," he said, trying his best to focus on Nadia. She didn't make him feel quite as uneasy as the Winchesters did. "Aren't you the guys from the health department?"

"Yeah. And florists on the side," Sam added with a straight face.

"Plus FBI," Dean chimed in, his tone deadpan. "And on Thursdays, we're teddy bear doctors."

"Let me handle this," Nadia interjected, giving them both a pointed look before turning back to Wes.

"Listen, Wes. It doesn't matter who we are, just that we know," she said, keeping her tone low and serious.

Wes's throat tightened as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You know what?" he asked, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Wes?" Nadia tilted her head slightly, her eyes scanning the room. She noticed a framed display of coins on the wall. "I see you're a coin collector."

Wes glanced at it, and his face softened slightly. "Yeah. My... grandfather gave them to me."

"And let me guess," Nadia pressed, her voice thoughtful but sharp. "You decided to drop one into the wishing well at Lucky Chin's and try your luck?"

Wes's eyes widened, and he quickly shook his head. "No, I—I don't know what you're, uh, talking about," he stammered, standing quickly as Hope returned with a stack of folders and wedding magazines in hand.

"Okay, now," Hope said, flipping through the magazines. "I have a lot of ideas, but, you know, we don't have all the money in the world. Wes is between jobs right now. Means more time for me."

Nadia and the boys exchanged a glance, going along with her act.

"You know," Hope continued, already getting lost in her wedding planning, "I'm thinking a Japanese-y ikebana kind of thing."

"Yeah, yeah, we can see it," Sam replied with a nod.

"So, Hope," Nadia interjected, trying to steer the conversation back on track, "how did you two meet?"

Hope's face lit up, her eyes glazing over with a blissful look. "Oh, best day of my life," she sighed, lost in the memory.

"Mhm," Nadia's gaze flicked briefly to Wes, giving him a pointed side-eye before turning back to Hope.

"Yeah!" Hope continued, her voice growing more animated. "It's the funniest thing. We both grew up here, but I never really knew who he was. Not by name anyway." She sighed dreamily, her eyes full of love as she looked at him. "Until one day last month, it was like I just—"

Hope abruptly stopped speaking, placing the folders down and turning toward Wes. The change in her demeanor was immediate—almost predatory. She rubbed his face and chest with a lustful look in her eyes, and her voice dropped an octave. "I just saw him for the first time. He was just... glowing. Oh, just glowing."

Wes cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. "Uh, babe, can you—can you get us some coffee?"

"Yes," she breathed heavily, her hands moving to him again. "Yeah."

Before anyone could respond, Hope was all over Wes, kissing him hungrily, her lips crashing onto his in a desperate, insatiable manner.

"Oh," Nadia groaned, clearly cringing at the scene unfolding before them. Sam and Dean were both taken aback, tilting their heads in equal parts disbelief and discomfort.

"Oh. Okay. Okay," Wes tried to pull her away, his voice strained as he mumbled through the kisses. "Mm-hmm. Okay. Oh. Okay. Oh. Mm-mmm, okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay."

Finally, with a great deal of effort, he managed to pull her off of him. Hope took a deep breath, smoothing her hair down as if nothing unusual had happened.

Wes wiped his lips with an embarrassed look on his face, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

"Like I said," Nadia repeated, her voice calm but unwavering, "we know. If I were you, I would start talking."

Wes let out a long sigh, clearly reluctant to get into the details, but he did it anyway. "My—my grandfather found the coin in North Africa, you know, during World War II." He reached up to take the framed coin collection off the wall, his hands shaking slightly as he handed it to Nadia.

"And, uh, he brought it back. He—he said it was a real wish-granting coin, but that nobody should ever use it. He said it was too dangerous, but I... I didn't care. It was all I had left of him." His voice dropped to a near whisper, a mix of regret and longing in his eyes. "When he died, I thought, well, you know what? Why not give the coin a shot?"

Nadia studied the coin closely, her fingers tracing the worn edges of the frame. "Cool story, Wes. Really, just beautiful. But we're gonna need you to wish it back."

Wes chuckled nervously, shaking his head as if she was joking. "Oh, ha ha. No. No, I'm not."

"You don't get it, do you?" Nadia's voice dropped, her tone turning serious as she leaned in, fixing him with an unwavering gaze. "If you don't stop it, something bad's gonna happen."

Wes hesitated, his eyes darting away for a moment, clearly not believing her. He crossed his arms defensively. "You don't scare me. I'm not taking my wish back."

Nadia raised an eyebrow, letting the words hang in the air for a moment before she stepped back, signaling for the boys to take over.

"Okay," she said, stepping aside, her tone softer now but still firm.

Sam, his jaw clenched, took a step toward Wes. "Something bad, like us," he threatened, his voice low but dangerous.

Dean didn't wait for Wes to respond. With a practiced motion, he pulled his pistol from his belt and pointed it at the ground with a menacing click. "We really wish you'd come with us," he said, his voice cold.

Wes's eyes widened as he looked at the gun and then back at the brothers. The weight of their words sank in, and after a long, tense moment, he sighed again, this time with resignation.

"Alright, alright," he muttered, standing up from his chair. "I'll come with you. No need for the gun."

Naturally, the threat worked. Wes quickly made some half-hearted excuse about needing to leave, and not long after, he was sitting uncomfortably in the backseat of the Impala with Nadia. The boys settled into their usual seats up front, the engine purring to life, and the steady hum of the tires on the rain-soaked road filled the silence.

Outside, the rain drizzled down in a steady stream, the rhythmic sound of the windshield wipers cutting through the air, making the world outside seem even more distant and bleak. The faint sound of the rain against the car's windows was the only noise breaking the otherwise tense stillness inside.

"I don't get it," Wes pouted, his back slumped against the seat as he leaned further into the leather. "So, my wish came true. Why does that have to be a bad thing?"

Sam's face tightened, and he looked over at Wes, visibly frustrated. "Because the wishes go south, Wes," he explained, his voice clipped. "Your town is going insane, and it's all because of that coin."

Dean chimed in from the front, his hands steady on the wheel as he drove, the low hum of the engine filling the car. "Come on, you're gonna sit there and tell me that your relationship with Hope is functional? That it's everything you wished for?"

Wes leaned forward, his eyes wide, trying to justify it. "I wished she would love me more than anything. That's what I wanted, and now she does."

Nadia, sitting next to him in the backseat, turned her head slightly, her voice soft but sincere. "How's that working for you?" She gave him a pointed look. "The way she treats you—it's unhealthy, Wes. It's creepy."

Wes shot back, his frustration building. "Well, it's a hell of a lot better than when she didn't even know I was alive," he argued, a defensive edge in his voice.

Dean shook his head, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel as he focused on the road. "You're not supposed to get what you want, man. Not like this. Nobody is."

Wes sighed dramatically and slumped back into his seat, staring out the window as the rain continued to streak down the glass.

Nadia picked up where Dean left off. "That's what the coin does. It takes your heart's desires and twists them back on you. You ever heard of the whole 'be careful what you wish for' thing?"

Wes rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed by their warnings. "Yeah, I've heard it," he muttered, unphased.

Just then, the car jolted as it ran over something.

"What the hell was that?" Sam snapped, twisting in his seat to look behind them.

"I didn't see anything," Dean replied, his brow furrowing, but he didn't slow down. He kept the Impala moving at the same steady pace.

Before they could even process it, a naked red-headed boy appeared suddenly in the middle of the street, holding his back in pain. He looked dazed but was very much alive, wincing as he staggered around.

"Hey, Sam," Nadia asked, eyeing the boy with some curiosity. "Was the peeping ghost a redhead?"

"Yeah. Why?" Sam replied, his voice full of confusion.

Nadia turned back to look at the boy again, who was now stumbling to his feet. She smirked, clearly amused. "Not sure he thought through the whole invisible thing," she observed with a raised eyebrow. "But, hey, he'll live."

Wes, clearly unfazed, leaned back and folded his arms, mimicking Dean's earlier tone. "Careful what you wish for," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know who says that? Good-looking jerks like you guys. The ones who've got it so easy because they happen to be handsome."

The brothers exchanged a look, each of them scoffing at the implication.

"Easy?" Dean muttered, his voice incredulous. "You think we have it easy?"

"Yeah. Women—women look at you, right?" Wes continued, his eyes narrowing with a hint of jealousy. "They notice you."

Sam's eyes darkened with the weight of his words. "Believe me, we do not have it easy, Wes."

Dean added, "We're miserable." His voice was full of bitterness, as if the weight of their lives was too heavy to ignore.

Wes rolled his eyes again, not convinced. "Yeah, okay. You guys probably think your lives are so hard, huh?"

Nadia, shaking her head, leaned forward and cut him off. "You can't judge people, Wes. Just because some of us don't look like we've got crap to deal with doesn't mean we don't." She looked him dead in the eye, her tone sharp. "I mean, do I look like I had to listen to my mother get murdered from the attic when I was six?"

Wes's face fell, his expression horrified as the weight of her words hit him. "No..." he whispered, his throat tightening.

Nadia's gaze softened only slightly, but her voice remained firm. "Well, I did. And do you see me wishing my mother would come back from the dead? No. That's the whole point about life. People crap on each other, but the human experience—no matter how messed up it is—it's beautiful, dark, and often disappointing. People are miserable that they can't get what they want. And you know what? It's for the best. If you get everything you want, you'll just overindulge."

"Right," Sam agreed, his voice steady, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "It's all about balance, man."

Dean's voice dropped into a knowing tone. "Take a look at Michael Jackson, hmm?" he said, glancing over at Wes. "Or Hasselhoff."

"Preach," Nadia added with a small, knowing smile, sharing a look with the boys.

Wes shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly still not convinced. "You guys just don't get it," he muttered. "Hope loves me now, completely. And it's awesome. Besides, look around. Where's all this, uh, insanity you were talking about?"

Just as Wes's question hung in the air, the car came to a screeching halt at a stop sign. Sam and Nadia both leaned forward as the headlights illuminated the scene unfolding in front of them.

The three boys from earlier were trapped in a four-wheeler. They screamed for help, their eyes wide with panic as the kid they had bullied-Todd- shook the truck angrily.

"Kneel before Todd! Kneel before Todd!" he shouted, his voice carrying across the street, trembling with both fury and something more unsettling: power.

Dean, who had barely begun to process the situation, looked up at the scene with an indifferent smirk. "Well, that should cover it," he remarked dryly.

He was feeding off their fear, his eyes glowing with a manic intensity. "Yeah, that's right," Todd sneered, shaking the truck harder. "Beg for mercy, losers."

As if the bullies weren't terrified enough, Todd's twisted satisfaction seemed to only grow as their cries for help became more desperate.

Dean's eyes hardened, and he slammed the gear shift into park. "Alright," he said, with quiet resolve. "I'll handle Todd. You two get Wes to Lucky Chin's. Go!"

Without hesitation, Sam slid over to the front seat, and Nadia followed, climbing into the passenger seat

The scene was chaotic, but Dean was focused. He looked back just as the car sped off, heading toward Lucky Chin's with Wes. Dean turned toward Todd, who was still shaking the truck, now muttering incoherently to himself in his twisted, giddy state.

"Hey, kid! Can I talk to you for a second?" Dean called out, raising his voice over the sound of the truck's rattling.

Todd glared at him, his face contorted in frustration and rage. "Get out of my way!" he snarled, pushing the truck harder, the metal creaking under his grip.

"Okay. Hey, I can dig it, Todd," Dean said, holding up his hands as though trying to calm the situation. "It's Todd, right?" He leaned in slightly, trying to make eye contact, hoping to get through to him. "Look, I— I know the score. Okay? They're bullying you."

Todd's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and something else—vulnerability, maybe—before he spat out, "Every day. Every day! You don't know what it's like!"

Dean softened, trying to empathize. "No, no, I don't. But, you know, you're you and I'm me, so—" He let out a small chuckle, hoping to disarm the situation a bit.

But Todd's voice cracked with a raw emotion. "Couldn't stop them," he muttered, his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white. "I couldn't do anything. Then Audrey Elmer told me the wishing well worked."

Dean nodded, his expression understanding but cautious. "Okay, okay. Look—look, I get it. They're—they're mean little jerks, huh?" He took a step closer. "But they're not superhuman like you, Todd. You see, with great power comes great responsibility—"

Before Dean could finish the thought, Todd's face twisted in an instant. Without warning, he lunged forward, his fist rocketing into Dean's stomach with an uppercut so forceful it sent Dean flying backward.

Dean grunted, the air knocked out of him as his body collided with a pile of trash bags and garbage bins, the impact jarring his bones. The world spun as the sickening ache from the blow spread through him.

He groaned as he tried to get up, but the pain was too intense. His limbs felt heavy and unresponsive, and the world seemed to tilt around him. He tried to push himself up, but his body refused to cooperate, collapsing back onto the ground.