⋆·˚ ༘ * Start up the fire, and baby start cookin’

In the dimly lit room, Dean Winchester paced back and forth, his mind racing with worry. The flickering candle on the table cast eerie shadows on his rugged face, the subtle marks of past battles more pronounced in the dim light. His sharp green eyes narrowed as he considered their next move in the fight against the sinister creature they were hunting.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Sam entered, his expression grave. “Dean, I've been researching all night. I think I found a way to heal them.”

Dean stopped pacing and turned to face his brother, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. “You found a way to heal them?” he asked, his voice tinged with cautious optimism. Sam nodded, holding out a tattered old book with yellowed pages.

“It's an ancient spell that can reverse the curse,” Sam explained, excitement bubbling in his voice. “But we have to act fast before it's too late.” Dean took the book from Sam's outstretched hands, scanning the intricate symbols and incantations with a furrowed brow. “We'll do whatever it takes,” he declared, determination hardening his jaw.

“Well, stop draggin’ your ass, Sammy. Let’s go!” he ordered, already down to hall to their room.

As they entered their room, the air was thick with tension and the faint smell of sulfur. They lay unconscious on the bed, breathing shallowly as the curse continued to tighten its grip on them.

“Sam? Dean?” they whispered weakly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean said softly, crouching down to their level. “We think we found a way to reverse the spell.”