#AND YEAH OF COURSE YOU DIDN'T BECAUSE IT'S DAMN NEAR IMPOSSIBLE TO TELL FROM CONTEXT

[firefly-fez]

you know what antonyms suck. and you know why they suck? oh i’ll tell you why they suck alright it’s becuase it’s IMPOSSIBLE to accurately tell the meaning from context. because 99% of the time, the sentence makes complete perfect sense with either meaning and you absolutely CANNOT tell from context which it’s supposed to be. watch: nectarine is the most [redacted] fruit. choose your fighter: a) hated b) loved

which makes more sense in context? neither. they make exactly the same amount of sense because they have exactly the same function in the sentence.

if you’re reading a language you’re not fluent in and you come across an antonym good heckin luck buddy. you’ll successfully deduce that it could be one of two wildly different meanings and have no other choice but to roll the heckin dice.

antonyms are THE ENEMY i tell you THE ENEMY

[anextraordinarymuse]

I'm just gonna go ahead and make a new post to respond to your points Katie (@jonesgirl88) so that we're not constantly reblogging and trying to load all of those gifs.

Jump to the DLO dance: there is a war going on in Oliver's head and the fact Eric can act that so we can see it? Brilliant. Chef's kiss. He's so torn and you can feel it and your heart breaks for both of them. He's holding her hand to his heart but Shane is also physically on his right side. Her chin is nearly resting on his right shoulder and he's pulled her close to his right side. What say you?

I noticed this too, of course. But first - Eric and Kristin deserve awards. All of the awards. They act beautifully, and they play off of each other so well - they're wonderful scene partners. Okay anyway. Yes, Shane is physically on his right side and has many points of contact along that side (like you said, her chin is nearly on his shoulder) but I pointed out their hands specifically because they are originally positioned away from their bodies. Shane and Oliver's physical closeness is a given in this moment because dancing is intimate. It requires that a lot of you be in contact with a lot of your partner. But originally Oliver and Shane's hands are extended away from them until Oliver pointedly draws them in and places Shane's hand over his heart. This movement is unnecessary in the context of ... well, anything. It's a purely instinctive and intimate move. He could have simply let go of her hand, or drawn it closer and then held it in some other position, but no: he pulls it right in against him. That's why I included it. I'm sure that it was included in the blocking and written in to the script because we're meant to notice it.

I could write for days about that DLO dance scene. THE. FREAKING. CHEMISTRY. I blush ridiculously easily (seriously it's A Problem and I hate it) and I would have been crimson that whole time if I were Kristin. The Tenderness. The Tension. The way his eyes dart back and forth right before he lets her go because he's so at war with himself: kiss her or let her go? O.Y.E.

They're standing in a line (because they're being given awards) but he's turning towards her and she's turning towards him. I just...I can't with these two.

This is totally A Thing©. Shane and Oliver both have a tendency to turn in toward each other like that - but especially Shane. It's an unconscious attempt to take refuge in Oliver and his strength, I think. She often does it in times when she's seeking comfort and closeness/affection. That moment where Shane is sleeping on Oliver's shoulder is one my favorite moments of it, but there's another one that's a small moment (that apparently was either filmed in a longer moment and cut, or aired as a longer moment/actual hug in one of the international versions).

Right before the scene fades into the next one we see Shane turn herself even more into Oliver's left side and tuck her head, as if she's going to bury her face in his shoulder. I wish we'd been gifted with more of this moment! Look at the way she tucks her arm into him and tips her head - she even kind of pushes her hip into his side. I just love this moment a lot.

1) Shane is shown to be freaking out when closed in the vault. Her fear seems to trigger at odd times? She's fine when she learned there's 13 hours of air; she's fine when she learns there's actually less than 5 hours of air; she's fine when she's bored and wants to play a game; but Katherine might be dead so she freaks out? I get it, she believes their fate to be tied together but then why wasn't she more fearful before they started reading the letters? It just doesn't make a lot of sense.

I think for a large part of this Shane was doing a good job of distracting herself and focusing on something else. But reading the letters made them both emotional: they connected with something poignant in those letters. They're reading about two people who fall in love despite their circumstances and share something beautiful even if it's only words - and then find out at the end that these two people may not have actually been able to be together. Not only does that mirror their situation, but all of a sudden it seems like they might never have the chance to be together either (to Shane) because, oh yeah, they're also in danger of not breathing anymore - and I think that just brought her fear to the surface. Also, it's a small moment, but Shane wasn't too thrilled about having to go into the vault at all. When she first sees it she hesitates and says "in there?" like she'd rather not go anywhere near it. I always took it as a small nod to the fact that Shane might not have a love of small spaces. We've never seen it mentioned again though, so who knows.

I know it's part of the story but he literally just wrote he's willing to give things with Holly another chance but then spends his time thinking of Shane when reading the letters.

Yes! And I have always taken this as another indication that, at this point, Oliver is saying what he feels he should have said long ago. He's making the effort he feels duty bound to make. I mean, I think part of him does want to put in the effort - but that part is his head. His rational mind, and probably his memories of Holly and his affection for her, and the importance he puts on his marriage vows. This is another reason why I truly don't think his heart is with Holly anymore, or in his marriage. AT NO POINT after he writes that letter and tucks it away does he think of Holly. He's reading powerful, moving love letters between two people and the only person he thinks about is Shane? And - we don't find this out until later, but still - the letter he does write to Holly isn't that romantic. He promises to try to see her dreams through her eyes, and says that he's willing to change, but there's nothing about how much he loves her or how her absence has affected his heart or his life. Maybe because Oliver didn't really believe when he was writing it that he was in danger? I don't know. But it's interesting.

That hand grab!! ... And then the way she looks at him as he sings along at the end when Rita wins?? I can't with this man. I can't with this woman.

Um, yes. Shane takes Oliver's hand and he just ... short circuits. It's hilarious. And they're so smitten with each other it's ridiculous.

And in that hospital scene, Oliver absolutely would have let anyone sleep on his shoulder like that. But it wasn't anyone: it was Shane, and it was Shane after all of the emotional intimacy they shared in The Treasure Box; and, once again, it was Shane turned into his side like Oliver offered to let her lay her head there, or she knew what she was doing when she did, because she's not facing forward in the chair with her head to one side like she just accidentally fell asleep and then her head sort of slid to one side. She's angled her body into his. Her feet are pointing toward him. Her hand is just under/next to his arm. How did they get to that moment? I NEED TO KNOW.

(I always understood Jordan to just be an angel. Definitely open to interpretation though.)

OLIVER IS THE ANSWER TO HER LETTER. His words, his faith, his person is the answer to Shane's childhood prayer she never forgot. He opens the wound but it's destined he's the one to help her heal.

Oliver is the embodiment of Shane's hope. Jordan couldn't answer her letter because it had to be Oliver, which he realized. And before he leaves the chapel he says to Oliver "take good care of that little letter writer." HE'S TALKING ABOUT SHANE. In the Impossible Dream, Shane tells Oliver that he's given her something she'll never forget: "a little hope for this world." Oliver. Is. Shane's. Hope. Oh my gosh! She's his heart, he's her hope. How tooth-rottingly, disgustingly sweet. I love it.

Extra point: Kristin can rock a leather skirt...like hot damn woman.

A) she always looks so good, but yes, this leather skirt and periwinkle/lavender top is one of my favorite looks on her, and B) I love her fashion and style and aspire to be that fashionable one day.

Holly and Oliver try to have a conversation with words and they fail.

This literally just occurred to me: Holly herself points out that she and Oliver suck at having actual conversations. Physically they click, so they obviously had a lot of chemistry, but they struggle to just talk to one another. Juxtapose that with Shane, who literally understands Oliver so well and on such a deep level that she not only understands him when no one else does, she can actively translate him. The reunion in HG instantly comes to mind here. She translates in real time for the audience what Oliver means ("And I might be the only person on Earth who understands what you just said!") But she also translates what he says for their waitress in OIAM ("Oh, he just means that people weren't having their booshes (or however you spell that) amused in the 20th century.")

In the Pilot and The Masterpiece, things get McSteamy so quickly but it never starts out that way ... He's trying for the sake of his marriage one last time but his head and heart aren't in it.

Exactly! The pull between him and Shane is magnetic. It's natural and impossible to ignore. This is why I maintain that even if Holly had changed her mind and asked to work on their relationship it never would have worked. Oliver was in love with Shane by this point even if he wouldn't say it or wasn't ready to acknowledge it (although Jordan played a part in making Oliver more aware of this truth. Hard to ignore when a freaking angel points out to you how important someone is to you.)

To Holly, kissing Oliver is akin to breaking promises to herself ... To Shane, kissing Oliver is akin to keeping promises.

Well, you just blew my mind. This is so true! Holly tells us that the only way she could see to live her dream was to stop kissing Oliver (insinuating that it was also to leave him behind); Shane's dream seems to just be ... Oliver. Sharing a life with him; delivering dead letters with him; loving him.

BRB, sobbing over this stupid show and these idiots in love.

I do think that Holly and Oliver parted amicably. I can't decide if I think that Holly asked about Shane, or if she made a comment about her (directly or indirectly). I kind of feel like Holly was more the type to make a comment than ask a question.

I am dying over the logistics of Oliver actually buying that porch swing. Well dressed Oliver scouring the aisles of Walmart at like midnight for the perfect porch swing while surrounded by a bunch of people in their pajamas and college kids on middle of the night snack runs because they're marathoning TV shows instead of studying? Hilarious. Headcanon accepted.

Back to the topic at hand...I do think some of the left/right stuff is purely ease of blocking

As do I. I'm definitely reading more into it than I'm meant to at some points, there's just SO MUCH of it and it's so fun to contemplate that I went for it.

THE HUG IN TRUTH BE TOLD.

hahahahahahaaa ... the way that Shane literally just drops everything and wraps her arms around him slays me. The stunned little pause where Oliver's arms are just up in the air for a second, as if he's somehow surprised at the force of her hug despite having watched her move toward him, and then he tentatively puts his arms on her back and then ... he holds her a little tighter. Ugh. UGH. I DIE.

CAN WE TALK ABOUT OLIVER IN FLANNEL WITH THE SLEEVES ROLLED UP??

Yes. A million times, yes. Oliver with his sleeves rolled up? Outstanding. Oliver in flannel? An absolute vision. Oliver in flannel with his sleeves rolled up? I C A N N O T.

There will be more. I need to make the gifs, but there's going to be a part 4. And probably 5. In fact, I think this is just going to become a series of Things I Need To Scream About™ with supporting gif evidence.

I'll try to break it up though, so there's just ShOliver stuff, just Shane stuff, and just Oliver stuff. And then all Postables stuff because they're the cutest little Postal family ever.

[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter 17

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 7,000

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

George had practically run all the way to Jack's door, but when she got there she hesitated. Back at the bunker they'd bonded a little, she thought; now, in the harsh light of the outside world and his near fatal injuries, she was less confident. Worried that she didn't belong there, she looked forlornly back at Dean as he caught up.

"What?" He wondered what the hold up was.

"Um," George wrung her hands and suggested, "...maybe we should wait for Sam?"

Dean read her nervousness and placed a hand on her upper back, pushing her gently, "Just go in. He asked to see you."

George let out a nervous groan and then pushed the door open lest she be shoved against it by Dean's strong hand.

Inside, she found Jack lying propped up in a small, twin sized bed, stitched and bandaged, listening politely to Lorna telling him how to cook the perfect egg. He appeared very alert and George was thankful he had his color. The image of his dead body from her dream flashed in her mind's eye quickly.

When the two of them came in, Jack's eyes lit up, interrupting Lorna excitedly, "George!"

She couldn't move her legs, as she fought hard to swallow the boulder-sized lump in her throat. As Jack started to sit up, Dean moved to the bed and adjusted his pillows to help prop him up.

Lorna took a hint and said, "Alright, well I took my lunch break to come home and check on the little miracle patient. Good news: still a miracle. And since he's doing so well, I should get back. There's plenty of food in the kitchen, feel free to help yourselves. I'm working a double." Both George and Dean thanked her profusely as she left, then turned back to Jack.

"You're OK!" Jack stated happily, addressing George.

She furrowed a brow at him and finally forced herself to walk over to the side Dean wasn't on, "Of course, I'm fine. How are yo-oh!" When she got close enough to him, he reached out and pulled her down into a tight hug. She felt awkward at first, again not used to hugging a lot of people. When she could feel how much the hug meant to him though, she relaxed into it, shifting to sit on the edge of his make-shift hospital bed. The built up tears spilled down her cheeks and she squeezed him comfortingly.

When he finally pulled back, she smiled, wiping her tears quickly with a blush, and asked, "How are you feeling? What was that about being a miracle patient?"

"According to Lorna, Jack's healing 'miraculously fast.' She seemed pretty surprised when she checked him over this morning," Dean explained with some uncertainty.

"Oh? What's-"

"We don't know," Dean answered with a shrug. "Best theory is maybe his grace is starting to grow back so he's healing himself, slowly?"

The three of them shared a confused expression, unsure what to think.

"Well… Good! As long as you're feeling better, that's all I care about."

"Yes, definitely better," He assured. Then added, "Happy to still be alive. A little surprised not to be dead, honestly." George frowned at him; he was so damn blunt sometimes. "Where's Sam?"

"He wasn't as quick to put his clothes on," Dean cracked.

"What?" Jack didn't understand.

"He means, he had to change," George corrected Dean, giving him a dagger stare, explaining further, "out of his PJs. He'll be here in a minute."

"Were you sleeping? You didn't have to wake them up for me," Jack scolded Dean lightly.

"Trust me, they were not sleeping," Dean laughed. George reached across Jack to punch him but the angle caused a white hot stabbing pain to radiate throughout her left side.

Her breath caught in her throat and she carefully shifted back to a comfortable position, muttering, "Ow, ow, ow."

"Are you OK?!" Dean and Jack asked simultaneously.

She placed a hand on her left hip and nodded, trying to catch her breath, "Yes, I'm fine. Just sore and my pain meds have evidently worn off."

"Oh, Lorna left you more…" Dean began, looking around the room for something. "There," he pointed to her side of the bed. On the nightstand she saw a small glass of water next to a cupcake wrapper with two large pills inside.

"Oh, that woman is a godsend!" She muttered, grabbing the items and downing the meds.

"I'll say!" The three of them turned their heads to find Sam in the doorway, holding another plate full of scones. He was now dressed in dark jeans and an olive green and black checkered button down. Taking another bite of the pastry in his hand, he mumbled excitedly, "Have you tried these?!"

When George laughed and nodded, Sam offered the plate to Dean. He quickly turned it down with a shake of his head, looking a little green. George smirked, assuming he'd had his fill. Sam placed the plate down on a side table and then came over to them. Shoving his brother out of the way, he leaned down and gave Jack a bear hug.

"Sam," Jack said happily, hugging him tight. When they separated Jack looked around with a smile, Sam squeezing his shoulders lovingly, "I'm so grateful to see you all." He looked between Dean and Sam, "How did you find me?"

Sam and Dean turned toward George pointedly and she blushed bright red.

With a nervous chuckle, she shrunk herself down a bit, admitting, "Uh, oh, well I--I… uh, I guess I helped with that a little." The brother's gave her matching perturbed expressions and she smiled weakly, "A lot?"

"What's going on?" Jack asked, reading the situation fairly accurately. "Am I missing something?"

They continued to wait for her to respond and she huffed a bit, "It's just--it's kind of a long, complicated story. And also, maybe we should start with Jack. How did you even get here?"

The diversion worked as the boys instantly looked at Jack and he began to explain, "Tilly brought me here. It's kind of weird. The night I left, Tim came to talk to me. He told me Sam was back from his hunt and wanted to see me in the garage. When I got there, I walked in on Tilly killing a demon with an angel blade."

"Where'd she get an angel blade?" Sam wondered.

"She told me you gave it to her and asked her to come get me because you said you thought I was in danger. Told me the demon she'd killed was proof that Sam was right and that I should go with her. I guess I was just surprised by the demon and I believed her," He frowned apologetically. Dean's expression didn't change but Sam and George gave him sympathetic half-smiles. "Anyway, we got halfway through Utah before she finally admitted she wasn't working with Sam after all and that she was taking me to the angels. She seemed… kinda guilty about it."

"Why was she taking you to the angels?" Dean was furious.

"They got to her. Told her about heaven struggling without more angels and convinced her that I was the answer. They gave her the angel blade and told her to get me to Oregon at any cost."

"And she just… did as she was told by stranger angels?" George asked in confusion. "Why?"

Jack began to explain, "Tilly--"

"Was very devoted to her faith," Sam cut him off with a frustrated huff. "I remember. The angels must have sensed she was vulnerable."

"Wait, is Tilly the bible study lady?" George asked. Jack and Sam nodded in confirmation.

"Bible study lady?" Dean was confused.

Sam explained, "Tilly organized a bible study at the bunker amongst the refugees pretty quickly after we got back."

"Yeah! She found my room and knocked on the door one night, nearly scared the shit out of me. No one knew where I was staying and that room is purposefully hard to find."

"What did she want?" Dean asked.

"To invite me to bible study. I politely declined and she left," George shrugged. "Crazy how she found me though. I mean she must have followed me," She casually glanced at Sam and Dean, both of whom had thoughtful frowns, and joked, "Or she was casin' the joint--ooohhhh!" She nodded slowly as it dawned on her that Tilly must have found her room while exploring the bunker in secret, "She was casing the joint!"

Dean gave Sam an annoyed look, silently scolding him for letting the nutcase run amuk and Sam shrugged defensively, "I didn't know that's what she was doing!"

"Bible study?" He sneered.

"I wasn't about to tell anyone that had just traveled from an apocalyptic alternate universe that they couldn't practice their faith, Dean! I just thought she was trying to bring people some comfort. I didn't think she was hurting anyone!"

"Fuckin' zealots," Dean grumbled. Sam looked guilty.

"Where's Tilly now? Do the angels have her?" George asked, unaware of her fate.

"We found her body off the trail," Sam began, looking at Jack curiously. He added as an afterthought, "We actually need to go back and take care of it."

"The angel who came over to us back in the woods: Poyel. He killed her," Jack explained. "Tilly brought me to him and Duma just inside the trails. They were leading us to the other group; out of nowhere he thanked Tilly for 'serving her purpose' and then..." He trailed off and frowned deeply. "It happened so fast. T--There was nothing I could do," He admitted sadly.

"Jack," George placed her hand over his and squeezed.

"Don't feel too bad for her, she kidnapped you," Dean stated matter-of-factly. Jack's frown depended.

"Dean," Sam scolded.

"I think what Dean means to say is," George began pointedly, "what Tilly did, taking you to them, it was wrong. Of course she didn't deserve to die, but it's certainly not your fault that she died doing something wrong."

"She believed it was right," Jack argued sadly.

"Even so. The wrong thing done for the right reason is still the wrong thing," George said very wisely.

"Huh. Did you just come up with that?" Sam wondered curiously. Dean seemed equally impressed.

She blushed and admitted, "Nah. It's from Charmed. Phoebe uses her magic to kill a guy and when Piper and Prue try to break her out of jail to save her from execution, she's like 'no I did the crime, I have to do the time! We're supposed to protect the innocent, not punish the guilty'..." Looking back and forth between the brothers' matching bemused expressions she added proudly, "Reality Bites. Easily in the top five greatest Charmed episodes. I highly recommend a watch."

Dean stared at her blankly for a few moments before stating, "OK, seriously. You watch too much TV."

"That's rich coming from Doctor Sexy, MD's biggest fan. Give me a break!" She stuck her tongue out at him and he held his hands up in mock defeat. "Life wasn't exactly a fairytale and TV was an escape. Hey, and now it literally is!" She said with a cheeky smile to Sam. Then she gasped, "Oh my God, can you imagine if I'd ended up in the Charmed reality, instead of this one? What if I got powers? How cool would that be?!"

"I mean… We have witchcraft here that I can teach you, so..." Sam muttered quietly. After a pause and a frown, he huffed a little, "And, you didn't get any special abilities when you came here, so I don't really think it makes sense to assume that you'd have gotten powers if you'd gone there." George gave him an amused look, reading his mild irritation for the jealousy it was.

Jack seemed confused, "I feel like I missed something."

"You've missed quite a bit," Dean said bluntly.

"Not that much!" George downplayed.

"Why don't you tell Jack how you knew how to find him, then?" Dean challenge.

"Oh, right," George grimaced, realizing she'd forgotten to use her distraction to come up with a good explanation. With a nervous frown, she squeezed Jack's hand quickly before letting go and clasping her hands together, "OK, so here's the thing: I wasn't entirely honest with you when we first met. I'm not from the apocalypse world."

"I knew it!" Jack exclaimed. He knew he hadn't recognized her from the camp.

"Congrats, you called it," she gave him an amused smirk and then cleared her throat nervously, "I'm not from the camps, but I am from an alternate reality--a different alternate reality." Pausing to wipe the sweat that had formed on her brow, she took a deep breath. "In that reality, all of this--you, the brothers, your lives, monsters, heaven, hell, angels, demons--none of it is real. It's all just a show. On television. That I watch… watched? Am watching? Whatever. Anyway, because of the show, I knew who you all were before I came here. And also, even more strangely because why not, I'm kind of from the future. I seem to have come back to an older season of the show, one that already aired in my reality. So, like, I knew you were all going to make it back safely from apocalypse world, I knew you were going to lose your powers, I knew Dean was going to get possessed by Michael…" She looked at Dean apologetically; she was really trying to be sensitive to the fact that these were real people's lives she was now referring to. "And then when you turned up kidnapped, something about it seemed very familiar and I realized that in my reality there must be an episode of the show where you get kidnapped and taken to that Trees of Enigma place. And since you guys had just come back from apocalypse world and I knew your powers were gone, the timeline seemed to fit perfectly. So, I politely suggested that the guys tr-"

"You demanded that we go to Oregon," Dean corrected, but then added fairly, "And you were right." George gave him a small smile of appreciation and then looked back at Jack. The look on his face was indiscernible; she really hoped he wasn't angry that she lied to him.

"So, you knew us before we met you?" He asked curiously.

George nodded a bit, "Yes--well, sort of--I'd never met any of…" She trailed off, suddenly glancing at Sam and realizing that might not be true, "Er, uh, I mean, I knew of you. In my reality you're all characters, so I knew you about as much as you can 'know' Darth Vader." Jack looked thoughtful, like he was processing.

"And you knew where to find me because you saw it on TV?" Jack asked, blinking at them a few times, then looking between Sam and Dean.

"Er--essentially," George thought about clarifying for accuracy, since she hasn't actually seen the episode, but figured it wasn't important.

Sam gave him an apologetic grimace, offering some assistance, "It's true, Jack. George knows things she couldn't possibly know any other way. And actually Dean and I have been to that reality, once. A long time ago. The supernatural wasn't real, we weren't really brothers; we were just actors on a TV show, pretend-killing monsters with rubber weapons. It was… interesting."

At the same time, Dean spoke over him, "Weird as hell." George rolled her eyes a bit at his unwavering disdain for his alt reality fame.

"Jack, I know this may not hold that much weight right now, but I'm very sorry that I lied to you. I feel awful, I just didn-"

"It's OK, George. I understand. You lied because the truth seemed… unbelievable. I think it's safe to say we've all been there," He shrugged a bit with a smile, Dean and Sam giving expressions of clear agreement, and she looked relieved.

"I promise this is the only thing I ever lied to you about," She said, trying to assuage her guilt further.

Jack thought for a moment and then asked, "So, then you were telling the truth when you said you were single?"

Dean's eyebrows shot up in surprise and Sam frowned in confusion, looking at her curiously. George blushed. She had forgotten about the strange personal question he'd asked her out of the blue a few weeks ago during one of their video game sessions. It had come so nonchalantly, and she'd been so focused on the game, that she'd answered without thinking: "Since Tess Thompson hasn't returned my calls, I guess I'd have to say yes." His response was a distracted "Who's that?" but something in their game caught all their focus right after, so they continued on playing without another thought.

George blushed and stuttered, "Uh, ye--yes, I--I am! Why did you ask me that by the way?"

"Well, when Sam asked me if I knew, I didn't," Jack explained matter of factly, with a shrug. "So, I asked in case he asked me again and I could tell him." George instantly looked back at Sam in surprise and then looked away quickly, trying to hide her grin. She could feel the tips of her ears burning. She would have felt flattered but she was too busy being worried that Jack might have told Sam all the embarrassing things she'd asked Jack about him.

"Beautiful," Dean remarked, his own wide spreading grin appearing as he watched Sam fidget in embarrassment.

Before Sam could explain at all, Jack asked, "So, how much did you know about us before meeting us?"

Glancing at Sam again and grinning at his charming humiliation, she replied, "Uh, actually not that much. Remember I told you I liked that show, 'Friends'?"

"The funny one you said was about 'a guy who sleeps with another woman and then spends 7 seasons arguing it's no big deal'?" Jack asked, sounding like he was reciting her words back to her.

"Weren't they on a break?" Dean asked casually.

George's neck snapped toward him and she practically hissed, "Maybe but he slept with someone else. He doesn't get to be indignant when Rachel doesn't want him back after that!"

"I really wouldn't argue with her about it. Trust me," Jack warned, causing George to give him a teasingly dirty look.

"Anyway. So, obviously, you know I'm obsessed with that show; watched every episode countless times, know all the trivia, yadda yadda," George explained. Then continued, "I was objectively less obsessed with the show you're all from. Called Supernatural, by the way. I've seen most of it, 'cept the last two seasons, only once through and some reruns here and there--but that's about it. And your 'character' was fairly new to the show, so I've only seen one season with you. I know more about these two doofuses," She smirked, angling a thumb in the direction of Sam and Dean.

"Like what?" Jack asked, suddenly very curious.

Dean huffed a bit and interjected, "Wait, you're fine with all this? George's revelation. Just like that?"

Jack shrugged nonchalantly, "Stranger things have happened. Besides, it'd be cool to learn about your lives before me."

Dean and Sam looked a bit indignant and Dean defended, "What do you mean? We're open books, you can ask us anything!"

"Uh, Dean," George began with a smirk, "You're happy to tell about your successes--by the way have you ever killed Hitler?" He gave her a perturbed look and she continued with a chuckle, "But I find it hard to believe you're going to tell Jack about the time you pulled down your pants and shouted 'pudding' at a stranger?" George spoke slowly and enunciated each word for maximum impact. Dean's face fell instantly. Sam's, on the other hand, lit up like a Christmas tree at the memory, looking at Dean with a stupid, little brother grin on his face. She added, "Or about the time you got your ass kicked by fairies? Or when you became a dog in human form and bark-shouted at the postal worker? Oh, oh! OR the time you screamed bloody murder because you were scared of a widdle kitty cat?"

"Ah ha ha! I remember that! The Buruburu," Sam nodded, laughing along with George. Dean was glaring daggers at them. Sam looked at Jack and added gleefully, "It wasn't just cats--he was terrified of everything!"

"Like, literally, everything!" George buttressed with wide eyes, joyful eyes. "So funny." Then she looked at Jack and grinned, "Oh, hey! Have you ever been so annoyed by Dean that you maybe wondered what it might look like to see a piano fall on him? Well, there's an episode for that!" She and Jack laughed together and Dean looked confused. Sam gulped, sobering up suddenly.

"What? When did a piano fall on my head?"

George began to explain, "The myste-"

"Mystery spot," Sam interjected hoarsely. George looked at him, startled by the seriousness of his tone. Catching his eye, she gave him a questioning look. Quickly, he gave her a smile that didn't meet his eyes, waving her off gently.

"Oh, was that when Sam dreamt that I kept dying over and over again?"

"It wasn't a dream," George clarified quickly. "It was the trickster--or Gabriel? I'm still a little fuzzy on that whole situation honestly. But whomever it was, he had Sam in some kind of weird reality warp or time loop or his own virtual rat maze--whatever. I don't know exactly how it worked, but the experience was real. For Sam at least." She paused, smiling proudly at Dean's 'idgaf' face and continuing, "not real for you because you're obviously still alive," George finished. Then added as a quiet aside, "and a pain in my ass."

"Cute," Dean said sarcastically as she snickered. He offered, "How's about we rewind just a couple hours and talk about what you've been up to in Anne Frank's attic, hmm?"

She immediately stopped laughing and Sam snapped his head toward Dean. Sam looked like he was going to strangle the man.

She distracted quickly, reaching for the plate of scones on the desk and holding it up to Jack, "So, listen have you eaten? If you want to heal and get your strength up, you should probably eat something! Scone?" It sounded like a question but it wasn't one.

Sam shifted his foot on top of Dean's and discreetly pressed down hard.

Jack looked disappointed that they weren't staying on topic, but George quietly promised to fill him in later and he took the scone with a thankful smile. He ate slowly while the two brothers squabbled.

Once they quieted down, Jack asked George, "So how did you get here? To this reality?"

"Good question," Dean mused.

"Not really sure," George answered. "One minute I was in my apartment--coincidentally, watching Supernatural--and the next minute, I'm in the library at the bunker talking to Rowena. I guess she was doing some magic to keep the portal that Sam and Dean used to get to you in apocalypse world open. Somehow I came flying through it. That's as much as we know. Rowena has been MIA ever since and I was too nervous to tell anyone. Sam and Dean found out about me when you went missing and I was suspect numero uno."

"What?" Jack shook his head in disbelief. "Why would you be a suspect at all?" He looked between Sam and Dean with a stern expression. Sam looked guilty, Dean indignant yet apologetic.

George jumped in to defend them, "They were just doing their jobs. As far as they knew, I was the last one with you before you went missing. Long story short: Tim was a demon--a shitty one--he told them he saw us together and that I took you out of the bunker."

"Tim. He's the one who told me to go to the garage," Jack explained with a furrowed brow.

"Was he working with Tilly?" Sam asked in confusion.

Jack shook his head, "I doubt it; she hated him. Said he gave her the creeps."

George gave Dean and Sam a knowing expression, to which they looked sheepish. Then she offered, "He probably told Jack to go to the garage because he had set a trap for him?"

"The demon Tilly killed?" Jack guessed tentatively.

"Must have been," Dean nodded. "She comes looking for you, happens upon the demon, gets lucky, ices 'em, and uses it as her cover for getting you out of the house."

The four of them thought about it for a moment and then shrugged agreeably. It made as much sense as anything else at this point. Besides, their focus now needed to be keeping safe from the angels.

Jack broke the silence, suddenly looking at George nervously, "Wait, if you're not from this reality… does that mean you have to go back?"

George's mouth opened automatically to answer and then she froze, realizing she didn't know how. Of course she knew the answer was 'yes.' Obviously, yes, she had to go back. But when she tried to actually speak the words, it didn't feel so easy. She turned a bit pink, glancing at Sam and Dean briefly, then said weakly, "Another good question."

"One that needs some investigating," Sam answered Jack with an undertone of seriousness, subtly trying to catch George's eye, "but for now, we need to focus on getting you healed enough to travel home."

"Shouldn't be too long for that. Lorna said he was healing 'miraculously fast'," Dean offered with a skeptical tone. George grinned wide and squeezed Jack's hand tightly in happiness, but Sam was giving Dean a confused expression. Dean just shrugged and explained, "We're not sure how. Maybe his grace is coming back?"

"Hmm," Sam wasn't convinced, glancing between Jack and George slowly while he considered the information. After a moment he shrugged as well and said to Jack, "Well, no need to look a gift horse in the mouth yet. Besides, we also need to be prepared; with the amount of work they put into it, I would imagine the angels might not walk away from you so easily." He looked at Dean with concern and found him nodding in agreement.

"We should reinforce the warding. I'll call Cas; update him and see if there's anything stronger we can add," Dean said with a nod, whipping out his phone and dialing. When he left the room to make his phone call, Sam and George spent some time catching up with Jack.

The two of them tried to cheer him up from his feelings of guilt over Tilly, asked if he'd gotten any more insight on what the angel's were planning, and filled him in on their trip to find him, explaining a little bit more about George's other-wordly origins. George didn't move from his bedside; every so often she'd reach out to take Jack's hand and squeeze it tightly, relishing the warmth. She was so thrilled to see he was healing well, the image of his pale, dead body still looming in her subconscious.

______

A short while later, George walked into the cottage alone. She found Dean fresh out of the shower, toweling off his head. He was dressed in PJ pants and an old, faded whiskey brand shirt.

"Hiya!" George hadn't seen him since he left to call Cas. He nodded an acknowledgement and she told him, "Jack wanted to use the bathroom and take a shower, so Sam's helping. I see your stink finally got to you, too?" She jabbed with a chuckle.

"Hardy har," Dean smirked. "I was boosting the warding and things got messy."

"Well my nose thanks you either way," She cracked.

With a shake of his head he joked, "Are you familiar with the term 'little sister I never wanted'?"

George's impish smile faltered a bit and she shrugged, "Very." Dean furrowed his brow at her curiously and she explained with a shrug, "I have a brother; he's 10 years older. Travis."

"He's hard on you?" Dean asked, his tone much less gruff than she was used to.

"Very. We just never found any common ground, I guess; maybe 10 years was too big a gap or he was too big of a dick? It's a mystery," Dean huffed in amusement and she smiled. "Anyway, I was a surprise for the whole family and he'd gotten used to being a spoiled, only-child. At first, he had grand ideas of being the powerful, protective big brother whose baby sister was a perfect princess with stars in her eyes for him," George paused, seeming to get lost in her memories for a moment. After a beat she shrugged and smiled wryly, "He got me instead."

"A real princess," Dean said sarcastically with an amused smile.

She snorted, "Exactly! Though, in my defense his idea of being my protective big brother was just a lot of ordering me around and using me as the fall guy for everything."

"And?" He smirked like only an annoying big brother can. He clearly didn't see a problem with her description.

George rolled her eyes in frustration, "Ugh, you sound exactly like Ryan."

"Is that someone I should know?"

"Absolutely," George nodded definitively. "Remember? My-"

"Oh right, your friend, the--the--What'd you call her? Your 'Winchester Wiki'?" He shook his head in amusement.

"Exactly! My friend--my beautiful, smart, incredibly badass best friend and Supernatural savant, Ryan. Also like a sister to me; wonderfully supportive, helped me through a lot of shit, but does tend to favor the 'tough-love' approach," She said in a tone that indicated she knew Dean could relate. When he didn't immediately comment, she added, "She also never turns down a bourbon, makes the best pecan pie in all of Indiana--possibly the country--and she's got a fantastic pair of--" She waited for his eyebrow to raise curiously before finishing, "--.38 glocks." His face quickly dropped in only slight disappointment but she could tell he was intrigued, which made her smirk joyfully, "Got all kinds of fancy engravings. I don't know spit about guns, but they're cool as shit. And did I mention she was beautiful?"

"Once or twice," Dean mused, shaking his head with a half smile. "She sounds too good to be true."

"Well, that's what I thought about S-er, the two of you and look where we are, now?" She joked. "She's definitely not too good to be true, but she is a bit geographically undesirable at present..."

"You trying to fix me up?" Dean snorted.

"Oh that's crazy, don't be ridiculous!" She laughed, waving him off. "I mean, how could I possibly even pull that off…" Trailing off slowly, Dean narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. When it seemed like she was actually considering the possibilities, he cleared his throat pointedly, snapping her out of her thoughts. With a chuckle, she refocused, "Er, anyway! My brother? Right, yes, well when my independence got in the way of his award for world's best brother, he turned on me; kinda became the thing I could have used a big brother to protect me from. He never saw the irony there," She joked, trying to keep the mood light, but Dean could tell it was a painful subject for her.

After a moment of awkward silence, Dean apologized, "Well, sorry if I-"

George waved him off, "No, please. You're fine. As annoying as you are, the big brother vibe I'm getting is far less hostile than Travis' was--is. Is." She had to remember to speak in the present tense. Her family wasn't dead, they just didn't exist. Here. Shaking the confusing thoughts from her head she added, "Besides, it's not exactly his fault; I could have let him be the brother he wanted to be. I just never felt like I needed protecting."

Dean chortled quickly, "Because you're so tough?" George narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance but it's not like she could argue. Suddenly, Dean's expression changed to a thoughtful one. He set down his towel, "Speakin'a which, c'mere."

Motioning for her to follow, he walked to the small, 8' x 8' open space in the main room. He placed two hands on her shoulders and maneuvered her into position close to the edge of the square, near the back of the loveseat.

"What are we doing?" She asked in confusion, though still allowing him to move her.

"Teaching you how to protect yourself." His tone was matter-of-fact. She assumed Dean didn't take the time to train people he didn't think were capable, so it surprised her. Feeling very honored, she ignored her immediate instincts to argue with him and tried to pay attention.

Tapping her body in certain spots as he spoke he instructed, "Active stance--allows you to move quickly. Keep most of your weight on the balls of your feet, bend your knees a bit. Right or left handed?"

"Uh--right!" She answered hastily.

He placed a hand on her right shoulder and pressed it backward, "Position yourself to the side, dominant side furthest from your opponent." He lifted clenched fists to his cheeks and instructed, "Keep your hands up here. About at your cheeks. Makes it so you can throw punches fast and still protect your face." She lifted her hands, too, mimicking his movements. "Rule number one when fighting monsters: there are no rules. Their goal is to kill you. Your goal is to survive, and you aren't bound by any etiquette, so you do whatever you have to."

"Fuck politeness, got it," She nodded understandingly.

"You want to aim for anything squishy: eyes, cheeks, nose, throat, stomach--"

"Nads?" She interjected with a chuckle.

"Well, yes and no; it's not going to slow down demons or angels the same way it would slow me down. That being said, it's as good a place as any to stab. Use everything you can: your hands, your nails, your teeth, your feet, your body weight. Even your environment; look for things you can grab and swing, furniture you can use to trip them up with, any distractions you have at your disposal is fair game." As he spoke, he pointed to things around the room she could potentially use for defense. "And almost anything can be a weapon. One time, I even used a pen! But, don't try that right away. It's an advanced skill," He added with a smug tone of caution. She had to hide her eye roll.

When he was done impressing upon her the importance of creativity and resourcefulness, they spent about 15 minutes on proper stance and positioning. Dean then had her practicing a few punches into his hand. He watched her closely, providing quick, direct corrections that she tried her best to keep up with.

"OK, good," He praised flatly when she finally landed a succession of strong punches into his palm. He positioned himself in front of her as an opponent and ordered, "Now, try to punch me in the face."

George hesitated, dropping her shoulders a bit, "What?"

Dean quickly moved over to her and roughly shifted her body back into position. "I said," He then moved back in front of her, "Try to punch me in the face."

"...Are you sure?" She asked curiously. She couldn't deny that it did sound like fun.

Dean smirked smugly, "I'm sure. Try to punch me."

Hesitating for only a moment more before doing her best to maintain the ideal stance, she swung and missed predictably. He corrected a few things and advised, "You've got a good stance, you need to focus on follow-through; don't hold back because you think you might hurt me. Remember when you thought I was Michael and you came at me with the cleaver?"

George nodded, remembering, "Right, I do. That was terrifying--thought you were going to kill me."

"Exactly. You gotta use that fear and commit. And remember what I said: be creative, use all your resources. Just because you missed the first swing doesn't mean you need to stop."

Not entirely sure how to interpret his advice--was she supposed to grab a lamp and start swinging?--she mainly corrected her posture and tried three more times. She missed each time, but was improving.

She got back into position and took a determined breath, focusing her energy on landing her knuckles across his cocky face. Just as she was about to swing the cottage door opened and Sam walked in. Dean turned slightly to look at him and without thinking George swung as hard as she could. Her third knuckle took the brunt as she landed her fist on the top of his cheekbone and he jerked back slightly, letting out a grunt of pain and shock.

"Ow!" She howled, holding her now throbbing hand gently. Then, she stared at Dean, who was holding his hand up over his cheek. In shock, she blurted, "Oh my god, I--!"

"You punched me!" Dean shouted indignantly.

"I did!" She shouted happily back.

"Fuckin' cheap shot," Dean was annoyed but it was waning by the second, realizing he was actually impressed at how good the hit had been. For her, anyway.

"You told me to use any distraction! When you looked away, I saw my opportunity," George grinned proudly, her eyes wide still; she couldn't believe she'd actually hit him. Holding her hand tenderly, she looked at Sam with an amazed grin, "I punched Dean Winchester!" Sam was confused but her pride was charming, so he gave a small thumbs up and smiled. Walking over to her, he inspected her hand carefully for injury.

Dean walked over to the freezer, shaking his head, "Yea, yea, yea. Not bad, it might even leave a mark." Though his form of praise seemed sarcastic, he said it with sincerity causing her to beam. The only things in the freezer were a can of juice concentrate and an ice tray, both of which he pulled out and set on the counter, "but you still need to practice landing the hits when there aren't any distractions."

She rolled her eyes at his perfectionism and looked at Sam, who was gently poking and prodding her sore fingers, "Is he always like this?"

"Pfft. Didn't you say you watched the show?" Sam joked, guiding her over to the sink where Dean was wrapping some ice cubes in a dish towel. When they got close, Dean handed her the makeshift ice pack. Sam took it before she could and maneuvered her hand to rest gently, palm down in his, assessing, "It was a good punch but you want to try to land primarily with these top two knuckles." Sam kept hold of the ice pack with three fingers and extended his first two, placing them gently on her top two knuckles in demonstration. He explained, "They're the strongest. These back two are much weaker and very easily broken, or in your case, badly bruised. Boxing lessons?" Sam then asked his brother with a smirk. Dean shrugged affirmatively.

"How is it that I land a good punch and end up in more pain than you?" George grumbled at Dean, slowly getting distracted by Sam's tenderness.

"He's had more practice being punched than you've had punching people," Sam quipped, moving to lay the ice pack against her knuckles.

"That's very presumptuous-oowww! Son of a bitch!" She growled at him, flinching when the cold, stiff material pressed against her injury.

"Is it?" Sam teased her, pulling her hand back firmly, yet carefully, and placing the ice pack down more gently. George shivered a bit; from the icy temperature, of course, certainly not from his manhandling.

"Princess says what," Dean muttered at her with a laugh. Clearly having heard him, she stuck her tongue out at him quickly. Dean held the juice concentrate up to his cheek with a smirk, "Probably gonna need some more pain meds."

"Oh, actually that's why I came looking for you," Sam interjected, looking down at her. "Jack fell asleep after I got him dressed and back in bed. Thanks for changing the sheets, by the way," He smiled gratefully and she smiled back with a bit of a blush, her fingers wiggling against his palm.

"You're welcome," She murmured softly.

Sam paused, getting lost in her eyes, then explained, "Um, anyway, Lorna called and instructed me to give Jack his next round of fluids and meds. Figured you might need some too." The two lovebirds stared at each other for a beat, before Sam nodded toward his pants, "The pills are in my pocket." George momentarily considered reaching her uninjured hand into his front pocket and feeling around; when she met his eye briefly, she could tell he had the same thought. They both blushed.

"For fucks sake, you two," Dean scolded them, turning away to grab a glass of water. He considered tossing it on them.

"Uh, here--why don't I--" George awkwardly reached up and took the ice pack from Sam's hand, freeing him up to reach into his pocket for the pills. She set the rag of ice down carefully on the counter top to be able to then take the pills from him. Tossing them into her mouth, she took the water from Dean next and quickly gulped them down.

"Blech!" She hated the feeling of medicine on her tongue.

Sam grabbed the ice pack quickly and took her hand again, placing the ice gingerly on top. They began sharing googly eyes at each other once more. Dean rolled his eyes when they started giggling for no reason; he could tell his brother had it bad.

"Alright, well, if Jack's down, then I'm going to hit the sack, too. You crazy kids have fun." As much as he wanted to enjoy this, he figured he'd give Sam a break just this once. Maybe he was going soft. Or not, "Try to remember, the walls are thin and there are no doors, so keep the moaning down to a dull roar." With a smug smirk he headed up the stairs.