A laugh burst free from my throat as my eyes scanned the page in front of me before I eagerly flipped to the next one. But just as I was about to see what happened when the gang went to the Seelie Court, the book was ripped free from my grasp. I let out a highly disgruntled noise and glared up at the Winchester standing above me.

"Seriously?! Give it back, dirt-bag!" I growled, my eyes threatening to go black.

But instead of giving it back to me, Dean began to flip through it, frowning every so often.

"Really? Why do you even read this stuff?" Dean asked, a hint of annoyance laced with confusion in his tone.

I rolled my eyes, turning on my back on the bed so that I was gazing up at him now.

"Because Jace is the master of sass, Alec is a precious grumpy cat, and Magnus is one big sparkle. No, but really, that warlock just radiates fabulousness and glitter. Lots and lots of glitter," I explained, ending with a confused yet wide-eyed expression of awe.

Dean grumbled, "I really don't see why you bother. You know what they are and what they do - you know what's out there. What we fight,"

I shrugged again nonchalantly, "Because it's like a world I can escape in. That and I can imagine book-Alec as Matthew Daddario. I mean, my gosh, have you seen those eyes?! Not to mention the Clace moments that weren't even put in the show-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Dean put up a hand to cut me off before throwing the book back towards me, "Remind me never to discuss fandoms with you again,"

Smirking triumphantly, I just shrugged. But before I could get back to my Mortal Instruments book, I felt the familiar rush of nausea wash over me. A noise of discomfort burst from my mouth before i made a mad dash for the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, I felt the rush of food come up and I retched, emptying the contents of my stomach. Two seconds later, Dean stood in the doorway - hovering there only a moment before rushing over to me. But it was over. 

I coughed once before Dean helped me to my feet, supporting most of my weight since I still felt so weak. Quickly, I brushed my teeth and Dean helped me over to lie down on the bed once more. It was in that moment, I was glad it was only me and Dean here and that Yasmin was being babysat by Charlie. I let out a long sigh as my eyes fluttered shut, ebony hair fanning out across my pillowcase. Dean's cool hand pressed to my forehead then as he sat beside me on the bed.

"That's the third time this week, Parksy. You sure you don't need to go to the doctor?" he asked, his deep voice filled with concern.

I pushed his hand away absentmindedly, eyes opening into emerald green.

"Yes, Dean! I'm fine, okay? It's probably just bad diner food," I assured him but I could tell he didn't buy it.

"Yeah, that's what you said the first time you got sick," he frowned.

I rolled my eyes, huffing in annoyance as I used my elbows to prop myself up, "Fine! Then it's an allergy, I don't know. Either way, it'll pass,"

At least, I hoped it would pass. After all, this hasn't happened since...

Suddenly, I was shaken from my thought as I noticed Dean's jaw clench but I knew it was out of concern and not anger this time.

"Alright. But if it's not gone by next week, you're going, is that clear?"

I nodded, smiling playfully up at my husband, "Yes, Mr. Winchester,"

Finally, a smile broke through the hard expression plastered to his face and he just shook his head at me.

"Thank you, Mrs. Winchester," he said huskily, amusement evident in his voice at my nickname for him as he pushed a stray stand of hair behind my ear before pressing a sweet kiss to my forehead.

"Now you're sure you'll be alright on your own here while me and Sam take care of the vamp?" he asked me one last time and I nodded exaggeratedly, nudging him off the bed.

"Yes! Now go before Sam decides to skip and go to the library to geek out."

Dean snorted in response but said nothing as he exited our bedroom, leaving me alone at last in the Bunker. It was about a couple of hours later 'till I finally felt good enough to do anything. And even then, I only felt like watching an old episode of Teen Wolf on Netflix at that. But just as Theo was about to attack Scott, I felt the familiar wave of nausea.

"Not again." I groaned, barely having time to pause the show, characters mid-wolfing-out, before bolting to the bathroom once again.

In one gut-wrenching heave, the rest of the food I'd managed to stay down until now came out along with a flood of bile. I nearly choked as I gagged before suddenly, cool hands were tying my hair back. Slowly then, they slid down to rest on my back, helping me into a sitting position once it was all over. It was only then that I took notice of my back pressed into a warm chest, locks of chestnut hair tickling the skin of my bare shoulder in the black tank-top I currently wore.

"Sam, what are you doing back here?" I breathed out, attempting to untangle myself from him.

But unfortunately, I was still too week and only managed to nearly take a tumble head-first onto the pristine white tile if it weren't for Sam's strong arms encircling me, pulling me back down to be seated between his long legs, back pressed to his chest once more. I took a shaky breath, feeling slightly nauseous again.

"Dean said he could handle it, wanted me to check up on you," Sam answered my question quietly, his voice uncertain.

"I'm fine, Sam! Okay? It only happens in the mornings anyhow-" I snapped defensively before I faltered.

Only in the morning... That was the only time I ever felt sick. Which was strange in itself. Not to mention my mood swings, how I'd been lashing out at both brothers for seemingly no reason at all. A cold pit of dread welled up inside of me as realization sunk in. And at Sam's silence, I could tell he was thinking the same.

I twisted in his arms to face him, my dark chocolate-brown eyes locking on light-brown hazel. The same expression of horror, guilt, and shock was mirrored there as we gazed back at each other. Fresh hot tears welled up in my eyes before beginning to spill down my cheeks. A sob bubbled up from my throat then as Sam pulled me into his chest, strong arms wrapping around me comfortingly. But nothing could take away the dark thoughts swimming in my head as I let out a heaving sob against the soft plaid shirt Sam wore, eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to block it all out. 

The words left my mouth, unbidden, then as they rolled off my tongue in a shaky voice.

"What have we done, Sammy?"