Supernatural 1. Author's Note

Hello everyone! Welcome to my fan-fiction, _Bad Company._ I have recently gotten into the Supernatural series, starting back since last year, and I can definitely tell you that I am Team Dean. I am a little bit hesitant about going through with writing this fan-fiction due to my mishaps of using an OC that ends up being too much of a Mary Sue, in turn, causes me to lose interest because of mistakes and running out of ideas, as well as unable to keep the characters in line when I try to add in a few chapters of my own...As of right now, I am really into writing this fan-fiction with high hopes that I can go through with this, though I am having a bit of a rough patch due to the fact that I desperately need the help of an outside source to run over my chapters (I have like, four chapters written) and they need proofread before I begin to consider posting them.

I really would like for this to end up turning into something great. As a writer, I try so hard to meet the needs of what I want in a fan-fiction as well as the needs of the readers, so I am open to ideas and tips. Watching Supernatural, (being Team Dean and such) has inspired me to do a little twist to the series. Throughout it, I can't help but watch Dean go through life, having things that is so near and dear to him be ripped away. And I'm also a sucker for some romance, so I thought, w_hy not make a series where he can have someone who could be the comfort and push he needs to get through those times?_

This someone is an OC by the name of Abigail Colt. She comes from a long line of hunters, also being a descendant of Samuel Colt. Abigail was born with supernatural perception along with the ability to sense them proving her parents an important asset to their hunts. At the age of fourteen, her family was brutally murdered after a demon couldn't possess her, leaving her father mortally wounded in which, he tells her to call their closest friend; John Winchester. As Abigail's father's last wish, John takes her in.

This also means, Dean and her wind up developing feelings towards each other. Dean himself is a damaged person, but after the first two years of Abigail living with them, he realizes he isn't the only one who is damaged. Abigail herself is suffering from the reminiscence of her family's demise believing that it was her fault to which, she suffers from severe night terrors and often insomnia.

Though they are a level-headed team, John winds up missing causing them to turn to another means of support-their youngest 'brother', Sam; who had left the family business for college. As a couple, Dean and Abigail are each other's rock; the very means of keeping a level head during a hard point in their lives. Dean is ever loyal and faithful to Abigail, knowing that she knows exactly how he feels.

As the story line progresses, there will be changes towards the Canon...meaning that Lisa will probably not have any major significance as well as Anna...simply 'cause I didn't care for her. Trust me though, Dean will still be Dean. That's what made me love him in the first place! So, no worries!

_**Note:**_If anyone is interested, before I start this series, I am desperately looking for a Beta Reader to ensure that I won't have any problems! Also, this story _will_ _be rated M_ for language and smut, as well as _some-_ and I am stressing _some-_ situations that will involve attempted suicide and drug use. So, _please_, as an attempt at forewarning, don't read it if you aren't into it. Thanks! (:


	2. New Beginnings

**Hello everyone! Welcome to my Supernatural Fan-fiction, ****_Bad Company. _****If you were wondering why that is so familiar, it is a song done by the band, Bad Company, as well as a song done by them. (Though, I think Five Finger Death Punch did a great rendition of it.)**

**This is just an opening chapter or prologue that kinda gives you an insight of what exactly happened to Abigail's family and how John took her in. I'm sure that there will be mistakes within the chapter, so if ya'll could be so kind as to letting me know, I'll address them as quickly as possible.**

**Also, I'm ****_still_**** looking for an editor/beta reader to help me along with this story so that I can keep all of the characters within their characteristics and not OOC, as well as preventing Abigail from turning into a Mary-Sue. Help would be appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Supernatural franchise, Canon, or characters; just Abigail and her family, as well as the little side stories that I have planned out.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

I can remember it… It seems like it happened yesterday.

My parents...My sisters and brother… _gone_ before I could do anything to help them; to save them. I was only fourteen at the time, still a kid to those who didn't know my family. I come from a long line of hunters, people who hunt down supernatural beings in order to protect others from an untimely, yet at times gruesome, demise. My mother and father were some of the best hunters around, specializing in demon hunting particularly. Every hunter knew their names, knew of them, or had the opportunity to work alongside them. Sometimes I went with them; sometimes I didn't and sat watching my younger siblings.

_The perks of being the oldest of four._

My parents had very few friends, colleagues, whomever you wanted to call them. A few to name that were actually very close to them was Bobby Singer, Rufus Turner, and the Winchesters. My family owned a good sum of land in West Virginia so whenever either of them needed a place to crash or hide from the authorities; ours was the first place to go to no matter how far they were from us.

Being a hunter came with dire responsibilities. Watching out for my two sisters and brother was number one. Watching out for myself came last compared to anything else whenever it came to the wellbeing of them. I found out at a young age that I had these… powers. I had the ability to see _all_ of the supernatural beings that we hunted for what they were, despite of their humanoid disguises. I was an essential part of my parent's hunts, unless it was deemed too risky… of course, the _one time_ my parents leave me to watch my siblings… I end up losing them all.

_11 years ago…_

_July 16th, 1994_

_Bruceton Mills, West Virginia-Putnam County_

The day was so beautiful. Not a cloud hung in the sky, the sun shone brightly as it caressed the world in a blanket of warmth. A soft, cool breeze drifted by as it playfully tugged at my hair. I could see the twins, Michael and Shelby, and my youngest sister, Alyssa, running ahead of me. Laughing, giggling, and squealing in their childish bliss. Our home was very large, my parents owning almost ninety acres of land with a large cabin accompanied by a large stable, garage, shed, workshop, and guest house all within walking distance made it a great place to play for two ten year olds and a six year old. With ninety acres of land at the four of us' disposal, they had begged me to go to the stable to ride their horses.

It had been a few days since I had even seen my horse, a beautiful sorrel Quarter horse by the name of Dunn Got It Made or as I called him, Dunn. That familiar velvety soft, pink nose poked out of his stall as I walked up to him with a soft smile, "Hey buddy, it's been a while hasn't it?"

Dunn's big brown eyes stared back at me, pawing at the stall door. I couldn't help but laugh, "Hold on, big guy, I gotta get the kid's out." I dug into my jean short's pocket and pulled out a half eaten Snickers bar, putting my hand through the bars of the stall. Dunn moved over to where my hand was at, picking up the candy bar and chewed. I patted his muzzle before meeting Michael at his horse's stall.

"You wanna get him out, Mikey?" I asked, looking down at my shaggy headed little brother. Those big emerald green eyes glittered with excitement.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, reaching for his horse's stall door latch. Inside, a black and white pinto pony whinnied inside, probably in the excitement as well from what I guessed. Unlatching it, I stepped back a little, watching ever so closely as Michael stepped in with a grin, "Hey Oreo, I missed you!"

The little pony nudged him with his nose as my brother wrapped his arms around his neck in a hug. After the short embrace, he reached for the bridle and placed it on Oreo, then latched the lead to a lead rein, "C'mon, Oreo." Michael clicked his tongue signaling Oreo to come with him into the main area of the stalls where Shelby and Alyssa were patiently waiting. Alyssa grinned as she saw Oreo walk out.

"Sissy, do me next! Do me next!" She squealed with glee and clapped her hands. I laughed at her excitement, placing a hand on top of her head and ruffled her hair. Several horses in their stalls snorted and whinnied creating the most perfect atmosphere for anyone. Days like this couldn't have made me any happier or relaxed than where I was now.

"Hold on Alyssa, let me get Mikey's saddle put on then we'll get you good to go." I said as I turned to my brother, "Get your helmet. I'm not taking any chances on you guys getting hurt."

I then watched him snarl his lip up in protest, though he knew better than to say anything. With a simple nod, he walked over to where three helmets hung and grabbed them all by the straps. Handing them out to Alyssa and Shelby, he then placed his on his head. I smiled seeing his shaggy hair form curls around the circumference of the helmet and over his ears. I walked into to the tack room, pulled his saddle off of its holder, and walked back out setting it on Oreo's back. After inspecting every latch, buckle, and strap I nodded in confirmation that it was deemed safe for my brother to get on.

"M'kay Mikey, have at it." I spoke as I walked to Alyssa's pony's stall. A palomino pony stood patiently in her stall as I unlocked it and opened it, "C'mon Snickerdoodle."

Why on earth my sister named her horse _Snickerdoodle_ is beyond me, but whatever made her happy I suppose. I put her bridle on, latched the lead to her bridle and lead her out of her stall where I then strapped the end of the lead to an iron loop, going back into the tack room and retrieved Alyssa's pink saddle. I shook my head at it as I did the same procedure on Snickerdoodle. Alyssa's semi-toothy grin, excluding two front teeth brought me great joy. I kneeled down beside the palomino mare and looked at my sister, "Alrighty, Alyssa. Come 'ere."

The little blonde haired child ran to me with a laugh that echoed throughout the whole stable, though it seemed to spook Snickerdoodle. She shied away slightly with a grunt, my hand instantly grabbing hold of her bridle, while my other hand wrapped Alyssa tightly against my body.

"Easy, Doodle." I said, "What's wrong with you?" After a moment, the little mare calmed down, though, warily, I looked down at my sister, "Be careful, Alyssa."

"I will, Abby!" She whined out, those puppy dog eyes of hers always got me. I smiled softly as I gave her a slight boost onto her pony. Straightening up, I turned to see Shelby leading her strawberry-roan Appaloosa mare, Dot, out. As much as I wanted to scold her, I knew that she was getting old enough to do things on her own.

I let out a small sigh, "Shelbs, you know I don't want you to get Dot out by yourself."

She looked at me, "Abby, I'm ten years old. I can do things by myself."

"I know this, but you know mom and Dad freak out when you do." I replied as I walked over to her and Dot, stroking the mare's nose. Shelby's piercing green eyes stood out from her freckled face, her curly brown hair pulled into a puffy ponytail. She pursed her lips in agitation.

"Well, I can do things on my own; I don't know why they don't see it!" She grumbled out, turning on her heel and walked into the tack room to get her saddle. I shook my head at my sister. As aggravating as she can be at times, I knew she meant well. I knew how she felt and I still do.

I stood back, watching every move she made, every buckle, latch, and strap she tightened, I watched intently to ensure she wouldn't get hurt. I was lenient compared to my parents, though at times, I would even say I was as strict as them. My brother and sisters were only kids. Hell, I was still _only a kid_. My father didn't see it though.

After I helped Shelby get onto Dot, despite the aggravated blows from her, I went back to Dunn's stall and got him out. The stunning sorrel stallion pranced his way out of the stall with a whinny as I patted his side. I only grabbed a blanket, throwing it over his back and hoisted myself onto him. The only thing that I had to keep him under control was his bridle and reigns, "Alright guys, do you want to go on the long trail or the short trail?"

"Long!" The three of the said in chorus, and with a roll of my eyes, I smiled.

"How did I know?" I muttered, placing a hand on my thigh where my Smith and Wesson .09 millimeter handgun was strapped securely. I never left without it, for the exception of school, "M'kay, Mikey, you're up front, Shelbs, you're in the middle, and Alyssa, you're in front of me."

My brother looked back at me with a smile as he nudged Oreo in the sides. The pinto gelding began walking, followed by the Appaloosa mare, then the little palomino. Gently nudging Dunn, he then began to walk, the sounds of hooves hitting the floor echoed until we made it outside until they were dull thumps. It was a beautiful day after all, so why not make the best of it?

As the day proceeded, the four of us enjoyed our day out in the sun. Resting beside the pond that was on our property, Oreo, Dunn, Dot, and Snickerdoodle stayed near the water's edge drinking as I kept an eye on my siblings who ran around and played tag, whilst I sat in the grass. I couldn't help but have an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe I picked up on what spooked 'doodle, but whatever it was, I didn't like it. Something just told me to run or fight, and I frowned at that. Things like that don't normally happen to me while I'm home, but I guess as a hunter, you have to keep your wits about you. This world wasn't as safe as someone who didn't know about the dangers of the supernatural would put it.

Thirty minutes ticked by and the feeling still didn't leave. It sat hard and uncomfortable making me stand up. Dusting off the dirt and grass from my shorts and the backs of my thighs, I looked at my sisters and brother, "Guys, I think it's time to go. Something's not right."

Shelby threw her hands up in protest while Mikey groaned out, and Alyssa looked like she was about to cry.

"We just got here, Abigail!" Shelby complained.

"I know, but, I-I don't know," I said, shaking my head, "I just have a bad feeling. Like something bad is gonna happen. Don't question me."

She growled out in agitation, grabbing up her helmet and clambered up Dot. Alyssa slowly walked up to me with her helmet, "Do we really have to go?"

I smiled sadly at my sister, "I'm afraid so, Alyssa. I don't question my gut. Let me get you on Doodle." She nodded slowly as I lifted her small frame up onto the palomino. Once again, the little pony shied with a small whinny and I frowned. _What is with this horse?_ I thought as I ensured that my sister wouldn't get hurt, _I'm going to have to talk to mom and dad when they get home._

Seeing that Mikey was on Oreo and secured, I made my way to Dunn and hoisted myself onto him, "Go to the stables, and I'll handle all of the horses. Get to the house." I said loud enough for them to hear. With unspoken nods, we all made it back to the stable double time. I hopped down, going to Alyssa, then to Mikey, and finally to Shelby.

Getting ready to open her mouth, I gave her a dark look, "Don't say a word, I mean it Shelby. Get to the house and start pouring salt at every door and window seal, Alyssa, Mikey, you do the same."

I took off all the saddles, and bridles to the horses and showed them back into their stalls. Patting each one on the rump, I shut the stable doors behind me pulling out my handgun. The feeling worsened by the minute as I slowly made my way around the house, checking its perimeter. With a shaky breath, my hands mimicked the action as well. Over the course of my perimeter check, my heart rate shot up. Seeing that it was all clear, I made my way back to the front of the house. The sky, by this time had turned into an ominous dark gray, lightning streaking every now and then in the distance.

Opening the door, I stepped over the line of well placed salt. My eyes flickered to each window and door, seeing lines of salt where they needed to be. That feeling ebbed away knowing that my siblings had done something right, and for that, I was relieved. Getting to the living room, I found the twins and Alyssa sitting on the couch, their backs turned to me. I blew out a sigh.

"You guys did well," I said, "I'm going to call Mom and Dad, see how long it's going to be when they get here."

"_Oh, _that isn't needed." A voice said from behind me. I spun around to see a man with coal-black eyes. My face paled the second his visage changed into a creature far more terrifying than anything that I had seen, "_My_, you're an interesting girl."

"How-how'd you-?" I stammered out, gripping my handgun tightly. The demon let out a menacing laugh as he flicked his hand, causing my weapon to fly from my hands. I gasped out in fright.

"Courtesy of Alyssa," he said, "Little thing broke a salt line in the kitchen." My head snapped in her direction, my heart hammering against my chest, "Oh, don't worry. They're not harmed… yet. Something tells me that your parents aren't far from home." The demon took a step towards me, causing me to back up. With a smirk, I found myself up against the back of the couch, "So, _sit_ and relax."

I felt my body fall backwards and onto the couch, a heavy weight washing over me inhibiting my ability to move. It felt as if it was getting heavier and heavier by the second, causing me to gasp out for air. The man with black eyes stalked around the couch to where I could see him and grinned wickedly.

"Why are you here?" I found myself asking, trying to be brave for my brother and sisters.

The demon tilted his head, "I have a bone to pick with your parents, and for that to happen, I have you four. Especially _you,_" He placed his hands on my shoulders, getting eye level with me. My breath hitched in my throat as he got closer to my face. I struggled to move my face away from the demon finding it futile to do so. Lifting up my chin with a hand, I heard Alyssa screaming as his head went backwards and a stream of black smoke flew out of his mouth. It circled around the living room before making its way back to me and slammed into my body. My eyes squeezed shut, wondering if this was it. Only to peek and see that it retreated back into the man.

A look of seething rage fueled by fear engrossed his face as he roared out causing Alyssa and Shelby to start crying. It pained me to see them looking at me with fear in their eyes. Mikey sobbed and screamed as they all struggled to move. The demon reeled back with another roar of anger, smashing a lamp next to my head. I flinched, feeling the shards of glass cut across my exposed skin.

"If you're going to kill me, then do it!" I shouted, "Leave my sisters and brother alone!"

"Oh, I don't want to kill you. You," he said, laughing, shaking his finger at me, "_You_ are a prize!" He disappeared, only to reappear behind Mikey, grabbing him by his hair, thrusting his head backwards to expose his throat, "_Him?_ He's nothing."

"_NO!"_ I screamed out, as the man suddenly pulled a knife out of nowhere and brought it across his throat. Scarlet blood gushed out as I watch my only brother die in mere seconds. The demon shoved his body to the floor, his blood pooling around him as Shelby and Alyssa both started to scream louder, "Mikey! No, please! No, no, no…" I whimpered out as I heard the door to the house slam open, "_Mom! Dad!_" I screamed out.

"Abigail!" I heard my father shout out as he and my mother ran into the living room, only to hear my mother cry out over Michael. I couldn't move my body to see their faces, but I could only imagine. Tears began to flow freely down my face as my breathing became harder and harder to process. I ended up blacking out shortly after, only to hear more shouts and screaming echoing in my subconscious.

With a gasp of breath, I jerked back into consciousness, sitting straight up. My head whipped around the room wildly, finding that I was able to move and stumbled clumsily to my feet catching sight of my brother and sisters on the floor in a bloody mess. I choked back a sob, stepping over them as I ventured into the dining area. I halted upon seeing my mother on the floor unmoving. Covering my mouth with my hands, I fought back hot tears continuing where I knew my father would've led the demon.

The room was dark, albeit the only lighting that had filtered through was the lightning that had streaked across the sky every now and then, "Dad?" I called out hoarsely.

After a few moments of silence, I heard a sinister chuckling from the far side of the room and coughing from my right, "Abigail, don't."

I jumped back, quickly running my hand on a switch revealing the demon standing in a devil's trap while my dad laid on the ground, a pool of blood around him, "Dad..._No."_ I whimpered out, falling to my knees near him. Hearing the squelch of my knees sliding in his blood, I cringed inwardly, though I gently touched his chest, eyes falling on the knife that had wedged itself in his chest cavity. I knew in truth that he was slowly dying, and from the looks of it, he wasn't going to last long, maybe three hours tops.

"Well, lookie here." The demon said with a grin, "All that's left is _you_."

"Shut. Up." I ground out, not looking at the wicked creature inside the trap. My dad blinked several times trying to get his eyes to focus on me.

"Abigail, get out of here." He rasped out, "Call John. Just, get out of here."

I shook my head, "_No_, Dad… please, I can do this…"

He gave me a stern look, "Abigail, that's an _order_, leave."

I shook my head again, "_No_." Slowly standing up, I turned to face the demon. Anger and sorrow flourished within me in angry torrents as the demon smirked.

"Oh, how precious. Little angel, you can't do anything." He spoke with disdain.

I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath, "_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus Spiritus_," I spoke out slowly.

The demon began laughing, "Is that all you got?"

"_Omnis satanica potestas_," I continued the exorcism as if my life was ending. I could hear the demon curse at me and yell to obscure the exorcism. I knew my dad was counting on me. I had already failed him with my siblings. "_omnis incursio infernalis adversarii_," I opened my eyes to see the demon's face scrunch in pain, "_omnis Legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica_." All at once, the demon fell to his knees, his head flying back in a scream as the black smoke billowed out of his mouth once more and engulfed the roof of the room when fire cracked through the smoke then it dissipated. I let out a shaky breath, turning to my father. He looked up at me with dull eyes.

"I told you to leave," he began watching me shake my head at him.

"I'm not going to leave you by yourself…" I said quietly, "it's my fault… I-I couldn't"

He raised his hand slowly touching my shoulder, "You did what you were supposed to. It was already waiting for you four…" He cringed, "I'm so sorry, Abigail."

I slowly shook my head as tears began to fall, "Dad, I could've done something…" My father coughed harshly before groaning out in pain, "Dad… don't… let me get the ambulance…"

He shook his head, "_No_, no ambulances…." He spoke out harshly, "John Winchester is a little over an hour out from here. Call him. He'll be here before Bobby or Rufus ever could…"

I nodded, getting up ignoring the fact that my legs were caked with my father's blood. I hurried into the kitchen where the phone was at and picked it up. Racking my brain through the several phone numbers that I knew, I tried so hard to remember John's.

_Ugh! Why can't I remember his number?!_ I screamed out mentally as I finally came up with one. Dialing the number, I placed the phone to my ear and heard the phone begin to ring.

_One ring… two rings… Oh, come on!_ I thought out on the brink of sobbing out of fear, "_Hello?"_ I heard his gruff voice answer.

"Is this John?" I asked quickly.

"_Yeah, who is this?"_

"John, I have no time to talk, it's Abigail… something bad's happened to dad and mom," A sob ripped through my throat as I pressed my forehead to the wall, "Please, hurry…. I don't think Dad's gonna make it."

Instantly I heard the roar of the Impala's engine get louder, "_Stay close to your Dad, Abigail. Do. Not. Leave him for any reason. Do you hear me?_"

"Yes… please hurry," I whimpered out.

"I'm on my way." I heard the phone click and I started sobbing, placing the phone on the hook. Everything was happening so fast that I couldn't even think. Wiping my tears with the back of my arm, I gathered myself and went into the bathroom grabbing an armful of towels. Practically running back into the room where my father was at, he looked up at me with furrowed brows.

"Did you call John?" He asked weakly as relief seemed to wash over him when I nodded. I kneeled beside him and placed a few towels under his head as a way to give him a pillow. I then noticed his body shaking, and I knew that he was growing cold from the impending blood loss. Laying the rest of the towels over him, I sat and looked at him numbly. My entire family was about to be gone in the matter of hours or minutes.

His chuckling broke me from the numbness, "I remember when you were born, Abby…" he said softly, gripping my hand, though I barely felt his grasp, "You were so beautiful… just like your mother, you still are… You've made me so proud."

My lip trembled, forcing out a small laugh, "Dad…"

"Remember when you were five and we were making your mother a cake?" He asked and I nodded.

"Yeah," I said quietly stroking his cold face, "You sang me Hank Williams…"

He gave me a bloody smile, "_Say hey, good lookin' - what ya got cookin'? How's about cooking somethin' up with me?_" He coughed harshly, but continued to sing, "_Hey, sweet baby - don't you think maybe, We can find us a brand new recipe?_"

"I got _a hot rod Ford, and a two dollar bill, And I know a spot right over the hill_," I joined in, "_There's soda pop and the dancing's free, So if you wanna have fun, come along with… me_." My voice cracked horribly when I heard a series of boots hitting the hardwood floor from the other rooms.

"Abigail?" I heard John's voice call out with urgency. I slowly turned my head.

"In here," I called back hoarsely, when the sound of boots became faster and stopped.

My father looked up, seeing John and grinned, "Well, look who it is." He said with a weak grin.

John looked at him with pity, but nonetheless smiled back at his friend, "You look like shit."

My dad began laughing, only to stop when a surge of pain went through him, "Too bad you were already born that way, Winchester." He bit out with a lopsided smile.

John crouched, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, "Get you a bag and start packing," John said, "I'm going to speak with your father."

I looked up at him, teary eyed and nodded slowly, standing. I slowly emerged into the living room where John's two kids, Dean and Sam looked at me. Sure, I knew them well, though Dean and I didn't really get along. Sam and I however, we were pretty close since he was closer to Michael's age.

Dean looked at me in bewilderment, his eyes on the blood that had covered my clothes and legs. Sam gave me a pitiful look that told me instantly that he was crushed about what had happened. I merely nodded at the two of them, then cast my gaze to the floor as I made my way to the stairs that was nearby.

"Hey," I heard Dean's voice call out. I paused and looked at him with tears in my eyes, "You gonna be okay?" I knew he meant well, but I shook my head slowly, unable to speak without fear of me falling apart in front of them. I pushed my chocolate brown hair behind my ear as I climbed the stairs and onto the landing where I shuffled into my room.

Shutting the door behind me, I slid down the door and began crying. I curled up, bringing my blood covered knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them as I sobbed. After a good five minutes of sobbing, I stood up moving to my full length mirror. I looked awful as I peeled my shirt off, bringing it down on my legs in an attempt to clean my father's blood off of my legs. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until a good bit of it came off. A soft knock pecked on my door as I straightened up, pulling my shirt back over me, and slowly opened the door to see that it was Sam.

Without saying a word, he hugged me tightly around the waist and began crying. Holding him close, I fought back tears, "Hey," I said softly, "Do you want to help me pack?"

He nodded against my chest, "I-I can't believe this happened to you, Abigail."

"I'm fine," I replied softly. Of course, that was a lie and a half. I was nowhere _near_ fine, "I promise." Big brown eyes looked up at me with tears in them as I wiped them away with my hands, "C'mon." I turned to my closet, digging out two duffel bags and handed one to Sam, "Just find my pants, shirts… things like that, alright? I've got everything else covered."

With a small nod, Sam started grabbing my jeans from my closet, rolling them up in the best way possible to cram whatever clothes I was taking with me… which brought me to the question, _where was I going_? I frowned, standing at my dresser as I pulled out my underwear, bras, socks, and a small jewelry box that my parents had given me when I was five. Placing everything into the duffel bag that Sam was stuffing several shirts and jeans into. I then moved to my bed, getting down on all fours and pulled out a large travel backpack. Sam's brows furrowed.

"What is that?" He asked, pausing what he was doing. I looked up at him and unzipped the backpack revealing all of my hunting equipment; maps, journals, GPS, flares, even MREs and extra handgun clips. His brows rose, impressed, "Whoa."

I smiled softly, "Yeah… always prepared for something… just… not this. I don't think anyone is prepared for this…" I shook my head, "I'm alone now." I felt Sam grab hold of my arm.

"No, you have me, Dean, and Dad." He replied, "We'll take care of you."

I shook my head, "I highly doubt that, Sammy…"

"I'm serious, Abigail," he replied with sincerity in his voice, "I-I'll talk to Dad."

I only ruffled his hair, "I'm sure, Sammy." I stuffed the last of my things into the second duffle bag. I bit my lip, "I'm going to clean myself up… If your Dad asks, I'm just finishing up."

With a nod, Sam looked at me sadly before walking out of my room. Getting both duffle bags and backpack, I drag them into my parent's room where I pulled out a few of my father's shirts stuffing all but one in them. I slipped into their master bathroom, twisting the hot water knob in their shower. Peeling off my shirt, shorts and undergarments, I stepped into the scalding hot stream of water and just stood there. My body was so numb, I wondered to myself how I was even functioning before I willed myself to grab a bar of soap. I started to scrub my body as hard as I could to the point I could actually feel pain. I scrubbed till I felt as if I was clean from everything. If I was dreaming, then this was one hell of a nightmare and it was working. Scrubbing my head with shampoo didn't seem to do any good either. I was sure that I had started bleeding from digging my nails into my scalp over and over again.

Once I was done, I stepped out to envelop myself in a towel drying my body off. Putting on a bra and underwear, I stepped into a pair of my mother's lounge pants, pulling on my father's shirt by means of comfort. My wet hair hung loosely when I pulled it up into a half-assed bun and walked out. By the time I walked out of the master bath, I could hear Dean and John's voices very loudly as if they were in an argument.

_Great._ I mused, picking up my bags. I stopped in front of my mother's jewelry box and managed to stuff all of her things into mine. This was it. I was alone for good. I took a large breath as I picked up my bags and walked down the stairs, seeing John and Dean look up at her from their argument.

"Did you get everything you wanted?" John asked curtly. I nodded at the man, glancing to the room where my father was in. I knew he was gone, "Dean, help her with her things. End of discussion."

He rolled his eyes at his father, less than thrilled about his decision, and started to approach me, "Let me get it."

"I'm fine," I spoke quickly, stopping Dean. I looked between the two men, "Really, I am."

John's brows furrowed, though he gave me a look of pity and merely nodded, "Alright. Put your things in the back of the Impala."

I willed my legs to start walking, and I did. Everything I did, I did so that the Winchester's couldn't see me break down little by little. I held my head up high as I walked by Dean and out the door. Sam sat on the front steps with a sour look, telling me that his father and he had words as well, though, he brightened up somewhat as I walked by him.

"Get this, Abigail, Dad's letting you stay with us!" Sam said with a smile. I stopped looking at him.

"Seriously?" I asked a little taken aback, "How?"

He shrugged, "He won't say."

I nodded, "Alright…" I looked at the black Impala sitting within a few feet of me.

_My new home_. I gazed over to the stables sadly.

"That demon," he said, looking over at the stables as well, "it killed them…"

Tears pricked at my eyes once more, "What?"

Sam shrugged, "Dean checked, there before coming inside, that's what he said."

I nodded again, then started to walk to the car, Sam is running ahead of me to pop the trunk. I managed to get my foot under it, and swiftly lifted the trunk lid as it rose; catching it with my chin. Sam laughed a little bit at my workmanship causing me to smile lightly at him. Placing all of my things into the trunk, I slammed the lid down at the sound of a match being struck, turning around. John tossed down a lighted match watching a trail of fire rush into the house. He and Dean rushed off of the porch and grabbed the both of us-Dean with Sam, John with me-and shoved us into the backseat of the Impala.

"We need to be out of here quick," Dean said, "This place is about to blow, and the cops are going to be crawling all over." He sent me a quick glance laced with hidden pity, before turning back to his dad, "Are you sure this is a good idea bringing her along with us?"

John sent him a glare, "_Yes_. It's the least we can do."

Dean let out a harsh breath as the Impala sped down my old driveway; a loud explosion from my old home shook the Impala. I clenched my jaw to prevent me from crying and lowered my head when it finally hit home.

Sam looked at me with a soft grin, placing a hand on mine, "Welcome to the family," He whispered. I glanced at him momentarily with tears in my eyes and smiled lightly at him.

The ride away from everything was quiet, for the exception of the radio playing a Guns N Roses song. I couldn't help but notice John glancing at me every now and then through the rearview mirror. I would avert his gaze to out in the night, watching the sky turn from an array of blues and purples to the blackness of night. The moon hung in the sky ever so lonely, stars twinkling and spreading out as the ride progressed.

Sam had long since been asleep, curled up in the back seat with his head on my lap as I stroked his hair absent-mindedly as I had done with Mikey. I couldn't help but look up to see Dean's head turned towards me, eyes staring into mine for a moment then turned back to the front. I felt like I was being pitied by what had happened. At the moment, I didn't care. In one hand, I held my mother's rosary, fingers running over the crucifix in a silly attempt to be comforted, while my other hand laid on Sam's shoulder.

Before I knew it, I fell asleep.

_Black, soulless eyes stared back at me with glittering malice through greasy, shoulder-length, black hair. Upon paper white skin, thick blood had dried in large splattering patterns across their hands, arms, and face. Their face held a wicked grin with dark intent, however the illusions of that face had faded into the creature that had killed my parents and siblings. _

_Icy tendrils of terror had torn through my body as I stood frozen in my place. I couldn't move. I tried to scream for John, only to realize that a sound never came out. The creature sprang forward, slamming me into the ground with immense strength. Its claws and teeth stained with blood, my family's blood. My heart hammered within my chest, watching in terror as it raised its clawed hand to deliver the final blow._

"Abigail!" John's voice cuts through my screams and I woke up with wide, tear soaked eyes. My chest heaved with every pain-filled breath I took. I was still alive. I looked around frantically, seeing Sam standing off a few feet with wide eyes as John and Dean had me held down onto the bed, breathing hard as well.

"What happened?" I croaked out, shaking. Dean had let me go taking a step back with a deep frown on his face. John let me go as well, straightening up.

"Apparently you had a nightmare," John explained, eyeing me carefully as if I were going to go into another onslaught of fits. Slowly, I sat up.

Dean scoffed at his father, "Had a _nightmare_? She practically beat Sam in her _sleep!_"

John's eyes narrowed at his son, "_Dean_, watch your tone."

"No. You should've _never_ brought her with us, Dad." Dean's hazel eyes bored holes into me with anger, "She'll only get in our way!" I hung my head fighting the urge to cry. I couldn't. Not in front of everyone.

Sam frowned at his brother, "Dean, she didn't mean it!" I heard Sam say, "Leave her alone."

"_Enough_." John snarled at the two arguing boys. Instantly, Dean shrank back with a sour look and threw me a glare. John looked back at me with a softened look, "Go back to sleep and we'll address everything that has happened tomorrow." I nodded slowly, watching as Dean stalked over to the other bed and climbed in, turning his back to me and John.

"I can't believe they're gone…" I whispered, feeling John put a hand on my shoulder.

Without another word, John nodded and turned, crossing the room to get back to the couch as Sam crawled back into bed with me.

A lone tear escaped, "I'm so sorry, Sam." I said, looking over at him.

He smiled a little, "It's okay. You didn't mean it." He wrapped his arms around me tightly, "G'night, Abigail."

I nodded, watching him slide under the covers and turned his back to me as well. Instead of going back to sleep, I remained awake for the remainder of the night—terrified that I would see the demon that had killed my family again.


	3. Woman in White

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Supernatural franchise (Just Abigail, any future characters pertaining to her, and any non-Canon storylines.)**

* * *

**_11 years later…_**

**_October 31st, 2005_**

**_Scranton, California_**

Classic's "_What Cha Gonna Do,"_ blasted over the speakers in the Halloween decorated bar. Faux cobwebs with spiders hung in the corners, with silly little décor of skeletons and dancing werewolves hung on the walls alongside with the posters of swimsuit models. I found it relatively amusing as I took a long pull of beer, the musty amber liquid sliding down my throat as I swallowed. Positioned in the shadows of the bar, I couldn't help but catch sight of a group of college students. A small smile tugged at my lips as I glanced down at my hands before laying down the money for another round. The bartender winked at me with a grin, laying down my second beer along with the money and a napkin.

"On the house," he said as he turned back around to serve the other patrons. My brows rose as I turned to walk back to where I was at originally, taking a long drink in the process. It had been a long drive from Louisiana to California, given a few pit stops between Arizona and New Mexico. Finishing off my beer, I slowly stood up upon seeing a boy, obviously a friend of theirs, laugh and joke with them. In the pit of my stomach, a painful tug made me frown… maybe there was another way around this.

Before I could be seen, I slid out of the bar's entrance unnoticed and into a shadowed area when a firm hand gripped my arm tightly, pulling me further back from the parking lot. I looked down upon being pressed up against a small tree, "What did I tell you about going in that bar?"

"I wanted to see him…" I answered softly, feeling the grip loosen and a hand gently lift my chin up in order to look into a pair of beautiful hazel eyes. Seeing that he wasn't mad, I smiled, placing my hand on his cheek, feeling the day old stubble scratch coarsely against my palm, "He looks so happy," I said shaking my head, "I just…"

After a few moments, he let out a sigh, "I know," came his reply, watching as his thumb traced my bottom lip before pressing his against mine. Butterflies of all sorts and sizes fluttered wildly in my stomach when I returned the favor, feeling him press his body against mine. After a few moments into our kiss, he drew his head back a little ways, hearing the doors to the bar open. Glancing over his shoulder, the both of us watched as the couple walked by without noticing us in the shadows. My heart sank once again seeing how happy they were.

"Dean, are you sure that we have to bring him back?" I muttered when he looked back at me, pressing his forehead against mine. Gazing into my eyes, our noses touching, he merely nodded.

"As bad as I hate it, yeah." He admitted, "This is Dad, we're talking about."

I nodded in understanding, "I know." I whispered, wrapping my arms around the man I spent my teens, as well as early twenties with.

"What's the call?" Dean asked, peering down at me with a smirk, "Fetch, or don't fetch?"

Looking up at him, I peeked over his shoulder, "Um… probably not a good idea right now if you catch my drift." I said, grinning. Dean chuckled at me shaking his head, in turn, shaking mine in the process. Slowly, I slid my hands up his shirt, feeling the sculpted muscles that was hidden between his shirt and jacket, until they found their way to his chest. Unmoving, Dean stared at me with a lustful glint in his eyes when I traced a finger down his stomach, resting on the hem of his jeans, and kissed him.

His hands found their way to my waist, sliding the hem of my shirt up a little ways where his thumbs began massaging the dip where my hips met my jeans. Deepening our kiss, our tongues entwined with each other, dancing and fighting as a surge of warmth began from my toes to the top of my head, and a blissful sensation that I knew too well created a ball of tension in my lower belly.

Once again, Dean parted the kiss, though leaving his lips a few centimeters away from mine as a grin took place, "You think we have time?" He asked, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

Looking into his eyes, I saw a glimmer of lust and hope as I smiled, giving him a quick peck on the lips, "Why yeah, I don't see why not." He grinned, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"C'mon, sugar-pie," he declared, "Time's a wastin'." I couldn't help but laugh as we emerged from our hiding place in the shadows and began walking down the street where we had to leave the Impala. As Dean saw it; his baby, his pride and joy… you know a couple of nicknames to name a few. Watching as Dean looked at the car with adoration made my heart smile. Just seeing his eyes light up like a child on Christmas made me feel glad to know that there were a few things in this life of ours that made him happy.

* * *

**Midnight**

I think it was around midnight or so when Dean had decided it was time to get our brother. After pulling on my boot, I stood up, looking at Dean. He looked as if he was in deep thought.

"What's the plan?" I asked, seeing him blink a few times and look at me.

"Huh?" He asked as I snickered at his bewilderment.

"What's the plan?" I repeated, rounding the back of the Impala and wrapped my arms around him, "You know, whenever we get Sam? Is this going to be a temporary thing, or is this going to be a permanent deal?"

Dean rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "I haven't really gotten that far, to be honest."

I rolled my eyes; _he's smarter than what he gives himself credit for_, "Sure you do."

With a smile, Dean wrapped an arm around my waist, bringing me closer to him, "You know me better than I know myself sometimes," he tilted his head slightly, "_which_, is kinda creepy."

Laughing, I couldn't help but look up at him with endearment, "Oh come on, Dean. You need to give yourself some credit. You're amazing." In the brief few seconds, I noticed a look of shock creep across his handsome visage before quickly masking it.

"Really?" He asked.

I nodded, "Mhmm, really." He glanced down at his boots for a moment, unsure of what to say. Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, I kissed him on the cheek, "I know we don't say it often, but… I love you. I couldn't imagine what my life would be like right now…" I hesitated for a moment reliving the night I lost my whole family, "_if_ I would even be alive right now without you, without Sam, or without Dad." I chewed on my bottom lip at the thought of what might've happened that fateful night.

Feeling Dean's grip around my shoulder tighten, I could feel him tense at the thought of it as well, "I'm glad that it ended up as it did, Abs. Everything that's happened," He shook his head, looking at me, "I wouldn't trade it or turn back time or any of those." I gazed at him for a moment not sure what to say and with that, he kissed me on the lips; pulling away shortly after studying my face, "Right back at you," I smiled softly, knowing he meant well when he said that. He straightened up, then smacked my left buttock with a wink, "Well, sugar-pie. Enough of the chick-flick moment, we have a brother to get."

Shoving his hands into his jacket pockets, Dean started to walk towards the fire escape side of the apartment building. I laughed to myself as I easily caught up to him before reaching the metal ladder.

* * *

**Sam's Apartment**

Climbing through the window the Sam's apartment deemed a little experience all on its own accord. The entire reason was that Dean made _no_ attempt to keep quiet. After I climbed in, I moved out of the way when Dean made his ungraceful entry. I looked at him with lips pressed in a thin line and furrowed brows, only to receive an innocent look and dismissive shrug. I rolled my eyes at him. That was Dean alright. Aloof and lighthearted, no matter how dire the situation was. It was just one of those things that came with the package.

Walking down the corridor in silence with Dean in front, his heavy footfalls seemed to thunder throughout the dead quiet establishment. It honestly made me cringe. Allowing him to move further, I paused at a beaded doorway, taking note of the iron segmented beads.

_Old habits die hard_.

I found myself smiling stupidly at such a little thing. I couldn't help it though. It was Sam. Snapping back out of my thoughts, I heard a series of thuds and the sounds of a fist connecting with a target.

_Oh damn_, I thought as I slowly approached a doorway that Dean must've gone through to see the tall, hulking figure of Sam lashing out with a kick in retaliation as the shorter figure of Dean narrowly missed the hit. The two fighting men disappeared into another room, allowing me to sneak in unannounced until the undeniable thud of someone being pinned grabbed my attention, so I stood at the doorway seeing that Dean had pinned Sam to the ground.

Folding my arms, I grinned stupidly at the two.

"Dean?" Sam asked, bewildered causing Dean to laugh in response, "You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's cause you're out of practice." Dean remarked when Sam suddenly grabbed him by the hand, planted his heel into his brother's back and flipped Dean underneath him. I clapped my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from bursting out laughing, "Or not." I heard him add in a grunt. With a chuckle, Sam tapped him on the shoulder, ending Dean's patience, "Get off me."

Deciding it was my time to shine, I grabbed Sam as he was beginning to stand up into a headlock, "How's about it, Sammy?" I asked with a grin, catching Dean's grin as well.

"Abigail?" Sam asked in surprise, getting a hold of my arm as a reaction. Letting him go, I stepped back beside Dean, "What the hell are you guys doing here?" He asked in bewilderment.

With a smile, Dean placed his hands on Sam's shoulder, "Well, I was looking for a beer." He shook him gently, though upon seeing his brother's stony look, he frowned letting him go.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" He repeated in a serious tone. Dean and I exchanged glances before looking back to Sam.

"Okay," I said with a bit of uncertainty in my voice, "Alright… we gotta talk."

Sam looked at me, "Uh, the _phone_?"

"If I'da called, would you have picked up?" Dean asked.

With a guilty look, Sam opened his mouth with the beginnings of a reason when the light to the room flipped on, catching sight of the girl I saw earlier with Sam, but this time in a pair of super short shorts and a slightly revealing cropped Smurf shirt.

A confused look made it clear as to why there were two intruders in the apartment, "Sam?" She asked, as Sam and Dean looked at her in unison.

"Jess. Hey," Sam began, "Dean. Abigail, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." The corner of my mouth tipped up into a lopsided smile as I slowly shook my head, rolling my eyes at Dean looking at the poor girl with appreciative eyes.

Realization perked on Jess's face and she smiled, lifting a hand, "Wait, your brother, Dean?" Sam nodded, giving Dean the opportunity to grin and step closer.

"Oh, I _love_ the Smurfs," he said, looking Jess up and down, "I gotta tell you; you are _completely_ out of my brother's league."

Giving Dean an uncomfortable look, she moved backwards a bit, "I… just let me put something on." She said with furrowed brows. I couldn't help but sympathize with the poor girl. I don't know how many times I would fall for that same thing when we were younger. The dangerous look Sam gave Dean, however, went completely ignored.

"No, no, no," He said, stopping her, still grinning, "I wouldn't _dream_ of it. _Seriously._"

A moment of uncomfortable silence fell between the four of us until Jess looked over in my direction, when her uncomfortable demeanor changed into something of a long awaited recognition. Not really having time to move or _think_ about moving, Jess had already wrapped her arms around me in an embrace, "You must be Abigail," she said with a grin stepping back, "Sam's told me so many stories about you," she laughed a little bit at herself, "it's like I've known you my whole life."

I glanced over to Dean with a look of 'I did better than you,' and grinned, "Awe, well, good stories I hope, 'cause I have a _lot _stories I could tell you about Sammy here." Sam's eyes widened slightly upon me saying this, because I'm pretty sure he started squirming. Dean smirked, taking his place beside me and wrapped an arm around my waist, soon earning a curious look from Sam as he glanced between us.

Jess laughed, "You have to tell me some of them sometime."

"_Oh_, I plan to." I promised with a smile. I already liked this girl. _Good choice, Sammy_.

Dean cleared his throat, indicating it was time to get back to business, "Anyway, we gotta borrow your boyfriend here," he said, taking Sam by the shoulders and turned, "talk about some private family business. But, uh… nice meeting you."

Sam pulled away from him with furrowed brows, "No." He started shaking his head earning a worried glance from me as he moved to Jess's side, wrapping a protective arm around her, "No, whatever you two want to say, you can say it in front of her."

Dean turned his back to his brother with the lack of patience he had.

"Okay," I said with a small nod of my head.

Turning around, Dean looked at me with a glimpse of a worried expression before he looked at Sam, "Um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam looked at the both of us before scoffing and dragging his eyes to the ceiling in an eye roll, "So he's working a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Pursing his lips at Sam, Dean ducked his head down, then back up having to say something about our lifestyle, "Dad's on a hunting trip."

Sam furrowed his brows, "And he hasn't been home in a few days." I finished, trying to get most of the heat off of Dean. Expression not changing, I allowed a few moments of silence to fall between the four of us so that the news could sink in. I noticed Jess looking up at my brother with a worried look on her face.

"Jess," Sam stated, "Excuse us, we have to go outside."

* * *

**Stairwell**

Dean and I were already out in the stairwell of the apartment waiting for our brother to step out. Dean's hands were in his pockets, head tipped back slightly against the wall while I put some of my body weight on the wrought-iron banisters. From inside, the two of us heard Sam and Jess conversing, however from between the plaster, it muffled everything out. The door to the apartment opened as Sam stepped out, shrugging on a hoodie with a look of annoyance.

Dean and I straightened up, "Well?" Dean asked, "You coming with us or not?"

Sam furrowed his brows, "No," he replied with a shake of his head.

Rolling his eyes, Dean turned heading down the steps, "Why not?"

Letting out a sigh of exasperation, Sam followed suit as I brought up the rear, "I mean, come on." He began, "You and Abigail just can't break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you guys."

Dean continued down the stairs, "You're not hearing me, Sammy," he said, "Dad's _missing._ We need you to help us find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton?" Sam asked, "He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine." Dean stopped short, turning to face him. Sam stopped as well as the two of them stared. I couldn't help but feel nervous; Dean was on the fritz with his dad missing. Yeah, I was with him, but I knew as long as Sam was with us… where he could actually see him, he would be alright.

I could see Dean's aggravated, though calculating gaze on his brother when his eyes flickered over to me. I looked at him empathetically, leaning on a handrail slightly. He shook his head, "Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with us or not?"

Sam shook his head once more, "I'm not." He repeated.

"Why not?" Dean asked. I rolled my eyes at how hardheaded this man was. He doesn't take no for an answer.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Sam looked at Dean, "I swore I was done hunting." He stated, turning his head slightly to look at me as well, "For good."

Dean scoffed, "Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." He started downstairs again as Sam and I followed.

"Yeah? When I told Dad, I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a.45." Sam replied.

Stepping onto the landing, Dean paused at the door that lead outside as the wrought-iron bars cast exotic marks across the two men's handsome visages from the streetlights shining in from outside. He looked to his brother, "Well, what was he supposed to do?"

Sam raised his hands slightly, "I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."

Dean scoffed with an irritated roll of his eyes, "Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you _kidding_ me?" He asked, pointing a finger, "Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there."

Sam cast a glance to the floor between them, "Yeah, I know, but still," he said lightly, "The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her." Dean glanced outside, the muscle in his jaw ticking. I shifted behind Sam knowing that it was a touchy subject to bring up his parents…_hell_, I knew it was a touchy subject for me as well, "But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."

"We save a lot of people doing it, too." I finally spoke earning looks from both of the boys. I sidestepped Sam to stand near Dean, who took a hold of my hand and squeezed it slightly as a meaning of thanks.

Sam nodded slowly, then looked at Dean, "You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Dean rolled his eyes in irritation, "What about your family Abigail? What would they have wanted?"

I furrowed my brows, "I'd be doing what I do now. _Hunting_. If I didn't know you two…if you guys didn't get into this, I'd be doing what I do now to keep you two safe whether you knew it or not." I shook my head, bringing my hand to my forehead before I blew out a hot breath, "I'm not gonna argue with you, Sammy."

I slammed the door open, hearing Sam call out my name as Dean and I walked out and up the small flight of stairs that led to the parking lot.

"The weapon training," Sam continued, "and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors. Abigail was already there." He stated as we crossed the parking lot to where Dean and I had parked the Impala earlier.

When we reached the black car, Dean turned, "So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" He accused.

Sam shook his head, "No, not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away," He said, looking away. I placed a hand on his shoulder

Sam sighed, "I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now," Dean replied, looking at Sam again, "If he's not dead already. I can _feel _it."

Sam had fallen silent from Dean's heated onslaughts.

I frowned, "We can't do this alone, Sam." I said softly earning a soft look from my brother.

His lips tipped up into a light smile, "Yes, you can." Like two scolded children, Dean and I looked down. I knew it was useless to get him into helping us.

"Yeah, well, we don't want to," Dean countered before looking up at Sam once more. Slowly, I lifted my head, seeing the wheels go around in his head before bowing his head as well, then back up.

"What was he hunting?" Sam asked, giving up. In a flash, Dean had rounded the Impala and opened the trunk, then the spare-tire compartment that contained the hidden arsenal. I watched as he propped a shotgun before sifting through the clutter with a scrunched face in thought. I rolled my eyes at him knowing that I've told him to organize it several times.

"Alright," I heard him murmur, "Let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

I shrugged at him, "I don't know, but if you had done what I asked you to do, you may not have this problem." I smiled as Dean contorted his face in a mimicking manner, pushing things aside. _So childish_. I thought hearing Sam chuckle from beside me.

"So, when Dad left," he began, "Why didn't you guys go with him?"

Dean shrugged from behind the opened trunk, "Abigail and I were working our own gig," he said as he continued to look, "This, uh, voodoo thing down in New Orleans. Got it done, but at a price." I caught the guilty look in his eyes when he glanced towards me then back at the trunk. I smiled softly at him knowing all too well that he thinks he has to take full responsibility of what had happened there.

Sam blinked in astonishment, "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourselves?"

Straightening up, Dean looked at him with a frown, "I'm twenty-six, dude." Then, with a grin he pulled out some papers from a folder, "Alright, here we go," he announced, "So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy," he said as he handed a paper to Sam, "They found his car, but he vanished."

I crossed my arms, leaning against the Impala, "Completely MIA." I added as Sam looked at a printout of the Jericho Herald headlined "Centennial Highway Disappearance', after he finished reading he looked up.

"So maybe he was kidnapped." He suggested.

"Yeah, well, here's another one in April." Dean said dismissively as he tossed down another article, "Another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92… _ten _of them over the past twenty years." He started tossing down each one for each date he mentioned before, taking the article back from Sam and placed them back into the folder.

"All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road," I said as I walked over to Dean's side, pulling out a bag from another part of the arsenal, then a map, unfolding it, "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around."

"That was about three weeks ago. We haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough," Dean cut in, reaching into the bag that I had pulled out and got a record out, "Then I got this voicemail yesterday." He said, pressing play on the device before the sound of static and the cell signal clearly breaking up.

_Dean...Something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. Watch your sister closely. We're all in danger._

Dean pressed stop looking at Sam.

"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam pointed out earning a smirk from Dean and I.

"Not bad, Sammy," Dean said with a smile, "Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?"Sam shook his head at his brother with a roll of his eyes, "Alright, I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got."

He pressed play as a feeling of apprehension washed over me waiting for the voice to come over the recorder's speakers, _I can never go home…_ it said eerily instantly giving me chills as he pressed stop once more.

"Never go home?" Sam asked, looking at the two of us. Without a word, Dean dropped the recorder in with the arsenal, laid down the shotgun as he straightened up and shut the trunk before leaning on it. I pressed my lips in a thin line, placing a hand in reassurance on his shoulder.

He sighed, looking up at Sam, "You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing."

Guiltily Sam looked away from the both of us as he weighed his options. Looking back, he sighed in defeat, "Alright, I'll go." He finally said, "I'll help you guys find him." I tried hard not to smile and wrap my arms around Sam's neck. Standing beside Dean still, I squeezed his shoulder lightly as he nodded, "_but_," he added, "I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here." He turned his back to us heading back towards the apartment.

"What's first thing Monday?" I called out in curiosity.

Sam stopped, turning slightly to look at me, "I have this…" he hesitated, "I have an interview."

"What, a job interview?" Dean asked, "Skip it."

"It's a law school interview," Sam answered, "and it's my whole future on a plate."

Dean smirked, "Law school?" He glanced over to me as I stood with a smile plastered on my face. I was thoroughly impressed with him.

"So we got a deal or not?"

Seeing that Dean wasn't going to say anything, Sam shrugged and turned back to the apartment leaving us to wait for him.

"_Law School_?" Dean scoffed out in disbelief as he leaned up against the Impala and took me in his arms. I grinned at the scowl on his handsome face. Placing my hands on both of his cheeks, I kissed him lightly.

"I think it's great." I admitted as he sighed, obviously in disagreement. I frowned, gently rubbing my thumbs against the stubble on his face, "You sure this is a good idea?"

Pulling his head back slightly, he arched his brow, "Yeah," he responded, "You and I both know that you're not over with whatever that witch doctor hit you with."

"I'm fine—" I was quickly cut off by the look he gave me, I looked down at the necklace he had on, slowly running my hand down to his chest and began to thumb it to avoid his gaze. I found myself doing that a lot whenever we had disagreements. It was true, though. I still felt sluggish and fatigued two weeks after the incident. Dean lifted my chin to make me look at him. Gazing into those hazel eyes, I chewed on my bottom lip softly, "I'm just looking after you, Abigail."

"I know," I mumbled, "Just… don't leave me here, alright?" That was when he shifted slightly. I frowned at him slightly hurt, "Really, Dean?"

"It's just until Monday," he replied in an attempt to persuade me into staying.

To be completely honest, I could've thrown a tantrum that would've deemed a toddler mature. Deciding against it, I pressed my lips in a hard line and gave him a hard look, "_Dean,_" I growled out.

He sighed, "Okay, okay. Fine. You can come," My looks softened into a small smile, "But you're staying in the car."

I shrugged, "Fine," I replied, "Besides," I said, trailing my nails up his back and lightly across the back of his neck, causing him to visibly shiver, "We have _way_ too much fun, don't we?" I asked when he grinned, seeing that twinkle in his eyes.

"_Oh, you_ know we do," he said, pressing his body against mine. My eyes slid shut when I felt him tip his head towards my neck, trailing hot kisses against my feverish skin.

"Good lord," I moaned out softly running my nails through his hair, hearing his chuckle against my neck. Goosebumps rose on my skin from the contact. Lost in our moment, it ended upon hearing someone clearing their throat. Dean straightened, his hands on my waist still, as we turned our heads to see Sam staring at us with a bewildered look.

"Um, you guys ready?" He asked with an uncertainty in his voice as Dean pulled away from me, nodding. I stepped back as he opened the back door to the Impala; smiling at him as I am climbing in the back. Closing the door, he winked after getting in the driver's seat. Sam opened the passenger's door to the back of the Impala putting his bag in the seat, throwing a look of curiosity at me. I shrugged innocently at him before he closed it and got in the front with Dean.

* * *

**_Gas Station-Day_**

**_November 1st, 2005_**

I had awakened from a hard sleep to see that it was daylight outside and that the Impala was now stationary. I blinked several times as laid in the backseat still hearing the Allman Brothers' _Ramblin' Man_ play on the radio. Finally sitting up, I looked around with a stretch seeing that we were stopped at a gas station. Sam sat in the front seat sifting through Dean's vast collection of cassettes with an irritated look on his face.

"Mornin' Sammy," I drawled out through a yawn catching his attention. He turned his head to look at me.

"Hey, good morning Abigail," he replied with a smile, "Did you sleep alright?"

Resting my back against the door to the Impala I shrugged, "I guess, yeah," I said, "Didn't wake up screaming or anythin'."

I could see the concern drifting across his face, "You still do that?" He asked in disbelief.

I shrugged again, "Every now an' then," I glanced out of the car curiously, "Where's Dean?"

Sam took in a breath, "Uh, he went to put gas in the car."

I nodded before rubbing my eyes, "Law school?" I asked again seeing him nod slowly, "I'm happy for you, Sammy."

He looked up at me with a smile, "Thanks…" He opened his mouth to ask something until Dean called out to Sam.

"Hey," I heard him, causing Sam to look out of the window, "You want breakfast?" He asked as he rounded the car, lifting up his arms, seeing that he had two bags of junk food in tow. He grimaced at Dean.

"No thanks," he answered.

Dean shrugged, "Suit yourself," he replied as he passed me a Danish and a jerky stick, then a rather large cup of coffee. I grinned at him, "Hey you," he said planting a quick kiss on my lips, "You sleep alright?"

I shrugged again, "Can't complain, but you know, I got props for the driver," I replied with a lopsided smile, "_Smooth_."

He chuckled, giving me a wink, "Anytime, cherry-pie." I laughed gently before lifting the cup to my lips and took a long, desperate slug of the hot liquid. Instantly, I felt recharged.

_Thank God for small favors._ I thanked in my mind. I simply adored that man standing outside of the Impala, there was no question about it.

I noticed that Sam had taken a moment between the exchange and small banter to give us another curious glance once more. It must've been awkward for him to see his '_love em and leave em_' brother with the girl who grew up with the both of them playing the role as their sister. I smiled inwardly at him. We were always close. He was always able to confide his secrets in me, as well as I in him. Even before Dean and I were together, he would set out with another girl that fancied him during the time, leaving me with Sam. I didn't mind. Even if I had a date, Sam was always welcome to go with me.

"So," Sam began, "How'd you pay for that stuff?" He asked, "You and Dad still running credit card scams?"

Dean shrugged placing the nozzle back on the pump, "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," he replied, wiping his hands on his jeans, "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

Sam arched a brow at his brother, "Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?" He asked, swinging his legs back inside the car, closing the door.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Dean replied, getting into the driver seat, placing his soda and chips down in the middle, "And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." He smiled, closing the door.

"That sounds about right," Sam said, then sighed loudly with a look of contempt, "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean looked over to Sam with furrowed brows of confusion, "Why?" He asked.

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two," he stated, then held up a cassette tape, "_Black Sabbath_?" He picked up another, "_Motorhead_?" And finally the last one, "_Metallica_?" Dean frowned, then snatched the box labeled _Metallica_ from him, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Well, house rules, Sammy," Dean began after popping the tape into the player, "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

I laughed a bit, leaning against the back of the front seat, "What about me?"

Dean looked over with a smirk, "Sugar-pie, you just sit there and look pretty," he replied, dropping the cassette box back into the box of tapes, starting the engine "also, no backseat driving." He added with a serious look on his face, making me roll my eyes and laugh more.

"You know," Sam began, "Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old." AC/DC started to play, "It's Sam, okay?" He asked, looking at the two of us.

Ignoring Sam, Dean turned up the music, "Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud." He replied as he pulled out of the gas station.

* * *

**_Later that day…_**

Several hours later barreling down the highway, Dean must've broken the speed limit between the gas station to where we were at now. I sat in the backseat with a cellphone plastered to my ear with a sweet smile on my face.

"Thank you, I appreciate it," I replied then shut it. Plopping it in my lap, I put both of my hands against my head, massaging my temples allowing a relieved sigh to escape. Looking up, I saw Dean peering into the rearview mirror looking at me with question in his eyes. Straightening up, I ran a hand through my tangled brown hair, "Alright, so," I began, "there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or the morgue. So that's something, I guess." I stated, seeing him nod in relief; Sam seemed to relax visibly as well.

Something caught Dean's eye, "Check it out." He said as Sam and I leaned forward to see a bridge ahead of us with two police cars and several officers walking around. Pulling over, the three of us sat in the car giving the scene a long look before Dean turned off the engine. He then leaned over, opening the glove compartment and pulled out the box that contained a series of ID cards. Sifting through several with mine, his, or John's faces, he picked out two; one of him and one of Sam, and grinned at him. Sam only stared at him.

"Let's go," he said, before glancing back at me with a cheeky look.

"What?" I asked, "I'm staying right here." Dean chuckled, absently cupping a hand on the back of my head and planted a soft kiss on my forehead as he and Sam climbed out of the car. I watched as the two men walked towards the scene on the bridge and I realized that, being left out sucked a big one. I frowned deeply as an uncomfortable knot formed in the pit of my stomach. It made me both antsy and nauseous at the same time. I groaned, basically flopping backwards, then realized that my cell phone still sat in my lap.

Instantly, I grabbed it and dialed Dean's number, watching him pause a ways away, then turned with his cell phone in hand. I grinned.

_"Yeah?"_ I heard him ask.

"Put me in your pocket?" I asked, hearing him chuckle over the line, seeing his shoulders moving up and down slightly.

_"As you wish, nosey ass."_ He replied, practically hearing the smile in his voice.

I smiled from the backseat, "Thanks."

_"No problem,"_ he replied. Then the audible sound of the phone rubbing against cloth crackled in my ear, making me pull my phone away from my ear with a small cringe. Ahead, Dean and Sam began walking towards the scene again, the sounds of their voices muffled by Dean's jacket. If it was one thing John Winchester has driven into our minds, it was always to be calm and stay level headed, no matter how dire the situation was. Play your part and act like you belong there. Granted, my father had said the same thing as well. I frowned at the thought of him.

_"So, this kid Troy,"_ I heard a voice say, "_He's dating your daughter, isn't he?"_

I straightened up, looking out of the window, "_Yeah_." I heard another voice reply.

_"How's Amy doing?"_ The first voice asked sincerely.

_"She's putting up missing posters downtown,"_ the second person answered.

_"You fellas had another one like this last month, didn't you?"_I heard Dean cut in. I noticed two officers near a car that was against the edge of the bridge.

_"And who are you?"_ The first voice asked as Dean flashed his badge.

_"Federal marshals_," Dean replied casually.

_"You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?"_The voice asked skeptically causing Dean to laugh.

_"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you_," Dean replied, moving towards the car, "_you _did _have another one just like this, correct?"_

The officer nodded, "_Yeah, that's right_." He looked between Dean and Sam,_ "About a mile up the road. There've been others before that."_

_"So, this victim, you knew him?"_ I heard Sam ask.

The officer nodded, "_Town like this, everybody knows everybody_."

_You have no idea,_ I mused in my head mildly watching Dean circle the car, inspecting it carefully.

"_Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?_" Dean asked

"_No_," The first officer replied, "_Not so far as we can tell._"

"_So what's the theory?_" I heard Sam ask as he went over to Dean.

"_Honestly, we don't know_," the deputy said, "_Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?"_ I kinda felt sorry for how naïve these people were. Having no clue of the real dangers that this world was capable of. I frowned a little, watching the scene in front of me.

"_Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys_." I heard Dean blurt out. Instantaneously, my heart jumped into my throat at his outburst. _Oh my god, really Dean?_ I thought. I then heard a dull _thud_ and Dean grunts in pain, when I realized that Sam had stomped Dean's foot. I silently thanked the heavens.

"_Thank you for your time."_ I heard Sam quickly say, finishing their conversation before he started to make his way back to the Impala, "_Gentlemen_." He added. With a deep scowl, Dean followed suit. Seeing that they were halfway away from the deputies, Dean smacked Sam upside the head.

"_Ow!_" I heard him grumble out venomously, "_What was that for?_"

I rolled my eyes, _Boys_.

"_Why'd you have to step on my foot?_" Dean countered heatedly.

"_Why do you have to talk to the police like that?_" Sam shot back in anger, still walking until Dean sidestepped and moved in front of him forcing Sam to stop walking. I couldn't see Sam's face, but I could tell that he was irritated. I pursed my lips slightly until I saw the Sheriff's cruiser pull in.

"Dean," I chirped into the phone, "Sheriff."

He didn't hear me, "_Come on."_ Dean said, "_They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves._"

"_Dean,_" I said rather loudly as the Sheriff stepped out of his cruiser, followed by a black Tahoe and two FBI agents stepped out from it, _shit, "_Dean_, really, _shut up_!"_

Hearing Sam clear his throat and motion his head over Dean's shoulder in a suggestive manner, Dean turned around to see the Sheriff.

"_Can I help you boys?"_ I heard the Sheriff ask rather demandingly.

_"No, sir,_" Dean replied quickly, "_we were just leaving."_ The two FBI agents walk past him as he nodded, "_Agent Mulder, Agent Scully_." I smacked my forehead against the back of the front seat. _Only him._ I thought before looking up to see them both making their way towards the car now. Letting out a sigh of exasperation and in relief, I shut my phone, laying it beside me as Dean reached into his jacket, and closed his as well before they both climbed in.

"So, what now?" I asked when Dean looked over his shoulder at me.

"We gotta a distraught girlfriend to find," he replied.

* * *

**_Jericho, California_**

The three of us walked down the sidewalk towards a theatre that had 'Emergency Town Hall Meeting, Sunday 8PM, Be Safe Out There' written across the marquee sign where we saw a girl dressed in a brown leather jacket with long fringes hanging freely, her long dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, reaching into a messenger bag pulling out a 'Missing' poster and tacking it up on the board outside the theatre. Already getting into an argument with Dean about me being in the car quickly ended, knowing he was pressing his luck by telling me I couldn't go with them to just walk. Of course, bribing him with a certain extracurricular activity _did_ help me win the argument as well.

Inside, I was beaming from my victory. Outside though, I had my game face on as we made our way across the street towards the girl.

"I'll bet you that's her," Dean murmured. Sam and I nodded in agreement.

"Yeah," he replied.

I smiled sweetly as we approached her, "You must be Amy," I said, realizing that my drawl had reared its head big time, earning a suspicious look from the girl.

"Yeah," she replied warily.

"Troy told us about you," I continued with a smile in an attempt to reassure the girl, "I'm his aunt." I introduced, "I'm Abigail, and these two are his uncles," I added, gesturing my hand behind me, "This is Dean, my husband and this is his brother, Sammy." I cringed inwardly about blurting out the word _husband_. I could only imagine the look Dean had on his face. The only face I was focused on at the moment was Amy's, and from the looks of it, she wasn't playing.

"He never mentioned you to me," she replied curtly, walking away. I frowned, usually that get up worked. We followed her.

Dean chuckled, "Well, that's Troy, I guess," catching her attention, "We're not around much, we're up in Modesto." I glanced up at him for a moment, seeing him looking at me with a look that said, _we'd talk later_.

_Crap_, I said in my mind.

"So, we're looking for him too," Sam stepped in as well, "and we're kinda asking around."

Around that time, another girl walked up to Amy putting a hand on her arm, "Hey, are you okay?"

Amy looked to her and nodded, "Yeah."

"You mind if we asked you a couple of questions?" I asked as both girls nodded slowly.

* * *

**_Diner_**

Sitting beside Sam in the booth across from Amy and her friend, Rachel. Dean sat in the booth behind the two girls with a bored expression on his face. I knew better than to think that he was. In truth, he was far from being bored. His eyes ever watchful, paying attention to his surroundings, to the other diners around us while he left the questions to Sam and myself.

"I was on the phone with Troy," Amy muttered, "He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and..." She sniffled, "he never did."

I rested my elbows on the table, swirling a spoon through the cup of coffee that sat in front of me, "He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" I asked. She shook her head solemnly.

"No," she replied, "Nothing I can remember."

"Here's the deal, ladies," Dean cut in from behind him, "The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." His voice trailed off when Amy and Rachel exchanged nervous glances.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's just..." Rachel began, "I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."

"What do they talk about?" Sam and I spoke in chorus, causing the girls to look at us awkwardly. Truth be told, it was awkward.

Rachel laughed dismissively, "It's kind of this local legend," she started off, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." With furrowed brows, I nodded at her to proceed unaware of the looks that Sam and Dean had given me. I was soaking this up! "Well, supposedly she's still out there," Rachel continued, "She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever." Straightening up, I glanced at Dean and then to Sam.

I had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.

* * *

**_Library_**

I honestly didn't think any place could've been any darker than the diner, but I was wrong. _So_ wrong. It was like there wasn't anything called lights at all in that place! It smelled musty and ancient. I walked over to the computers where Dean and Sam were at as I ventured back from the newspaper clippings and looking through old magazines from ten years ago. I wasn't impressed with the place.

"Any luck?" I asked, pulling up a wheeled-chair on the other side of Dean. With the sour look on Dean's determined face, I took it as a no. Folding my arms, I leaned back into a reclined state, "I 'spose that it would kill them to change out these light bulbs, huh?"

Dean cracked a smile while he was typing in something along the lines of _Female Murder Hitchhiking_ in the archive page for the Jericho Herald. Clicking 'go', the screen popped up saying that there wasn't anything found. With pursed lips, Dean then replaced 'hitchhiking' with 'Centennial Highway', ending up with the same response.

Sam, sitting on the other side of him, was watching intently, "Let me try." He said reaching for the mouse only to have his hand swatted by Dean.

"I got it," Dean grumbled. With a sigh, Sam grabbed the back of Dean's chair and shoved him away from the desk, only to roll in his spot, "Dude!" I watched in amusement seeing Dean roll his chair back up and returned the favor with a punch to Sam's shoulder, "You're such a control freak."

With a simple roll of his eyes, Sam dismissed his brother, "So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"

I thought for a moment, "Yeah."

"Well, maybe it's not a murder," Sam murmured soon replacing 'murder' with 'suicide' finding an article entitled "_Suicide on Centennial_." Dean and I glanced at him, then at the screen as he opened the article with a date of April 25th, 1981.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river." Sam summarized, scrolling down the page as an image of Constance showed up. I couldn't help but feel bad for her loss, she was a beautiful woman with long brown hair.

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, an hour before they found her, she calls 911," he said, scanning the article once more, "Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." Dean's brows rose in astonishment.

"Damn," I murmured softly, seeing the screen scroll up to reveal more of the article and another image of a bridge.

"'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch." Sam added. After a moment of scanning the image of Joseph Welch something had piqued Dean's interest.

"The bridge look familiar to you?" He asked, making me look at it, when it dawned on me. We were there earlier.

* * *

**_Sylvania Bridge-Night_**

That night, the moon hung high in the sky as a cool breeze wafted around Sam, Dean, and I. The evident smell of rotting fish, trash, or sewage clung to the inside of my nose, making it kind of hard to breathe at times as we walked along the bridge and stopped, leaning over the railing to look down at the river. Judging from how some large rock jutted out from the water, it was no wonder that it would be easy for someone to commit suicide if they hit the water wrong, landed on the embankment wrong, or on a rock.

A shiver ran through my body, making me wish I had grabbed my jacket when we left the Impala, but something told me that it would've been a bad idea. Hell, something didn't feel right period. I was only in a thin gray shirt, a pair of worn-in jeans, and a pair of converse. Stupid me, eh?

_It's just the witch doctor's doing, don't worry about it_, I chanted in my head a couple of times.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean stated with a smirk.

Sam looked over to his brother, "You think Dad would have been here?"

He shrugged in response, "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." Straightening up, Dean began walking towards the Impala soon followed by Sam and myself.

"Okay, so now what?" Sam asked.

"Now we keep digging until we find him," Dean replied, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "Might take a while." He added, lifting his hand slightly on my shoulder. Upon his response, Sam stopped short behind us.

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—"Sam said softly.

Dean and I halted, turning around to see him. He nodded slowly, "Monday. _Right_. The interview."

Sam nodded slowly as well, "Yeah."

Dean allowed his arm to fall from my shoulders, "Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" He asked, "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" I shifted uncomfortably beside him. This wasn't going to end well.

Sam shrugged, "Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean asked in a serious tone. He did have a point, _did_ she know about us and what we do and have done?

Sam bristled up, taking a few steps closer to Dean, "No," he bit out, "and she's not ever going to know."

With a scoff, Dean looked at his brother incredulously, "Well, that's healthy," he replied, "You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." With a shake of his head, Dean wrapped his arm around me once again as we began to walk back towards the car. Hastily, Sam followed.

"And who's that?" Sam challenged.

With a dismissive shrug, Dean replied, "You're one of us."

I could literally feel the tension rise between the two men as Sam rushed ahead to get in front of us, "No. I'm not like you and I'm not like Abigail. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to—" Dean began before being cut off by Sam quickly.

"To Dad?" Sam spat out, "And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

Without a second thought, Dean had let go of me and grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt and jacket, shoving him up against the railing of the bridge. Before I could even react, I covered my mouth with my hands to prevent myself from either yelling at them or gasping out in shock. In all, it wasn't that shocking. I knew Dean had so many things pent up inside him and how he felt about anyone saying anything about the death of his mother. Sam's face made it clear that he was taken off guard, almost bracing for Dean to hit him or something, though he didn't. The two men stayed like that in silence.

I shifted uncomfortably where I stood; feeling that something or someone was watching us. I wrapped my arms around myself to prevent an onslaught of chills from wracking my body, hearing both Sam and Dean breathing heavily. Slowly, I approached the seething man, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as an attempt to bring him back out of his mood. I felt the hardness of his coiled muscles loosen up a hair, when I heard Dean let out a barely audible sigh.

"Don't talk about her like that," I finally heard Dean say quietly, before letting his brother go and turned to me. I didn't say anything, though; I only offered a hand out in comfort. Taking it, I turned so that we could start back, realizing that when I did, I saw a woman standing on the edge of the bridge wearing a billowing, tattered white dress, and long brown hair. I glanced over to Dean, he saw what I saw.

"Sam," Dean said alerting him. Standing next to us, the woman looked over. Without saying a word, she stepped off and into the river. The three of us sprinted hearing the metallic clanks of the grates under our feet hit against each other as we approached where she stood on the railing and looked over, searching for a sign of her.

"Where'd she go?" I asked, feeling my heart racing in my throat.

Sam shook his head, "I don't know."

Out of nowhere, the Impala's engine turned and started, the headlights coming on. I felt the icy chill of fear rip through my veins when I slowly turned around with Dean and Sam to look.

"What the—" Dean said, bewildered.

I turned my head to Dean, "Who's driving your car?" Placing his hand into his pocket, Dean pulled out the keys to the car, jingling them. Sam gave them a worried glance before the car jerked suddenly into motion, barreling straight for us. My heart sank into my stomach.

_Constance is trying to kill us!_ I screeched in my head.

"Guys? Go! Go!" Sam called out, as I felt a hand grab my arm tightly and spin me around; I looked to see that Dean had grabbed me, as he pushed me in front of him to start running. Sam wasn't far behind us. Glancing over my shoulder every now and then, I would push myself that much more upon seeing the Impala get closer with every step that we have taken. Whenever it _did_ get too close, Sam and Dean dove across the railing first, then me.

I fell for what seemed to be ages, readying myself for whatever impact I was about to face. Then, I was enveloped in mind-numbing water, my air supply gone as water rushed into my sinuses and mouth; a sharp pain erupting in the side of my head. The force of the current pulled me against several sharp rocks in my attempt to surface to get air, when I finally was able to get a grip. I swore I thought I heard a soft, calming voice in the back of my mind urge me to swim to the shoreline despite how my arms and legs were cramping up from the cold water. I didn't waste no time until I broke the surface, pulling my body onto the shoreline like the voice had said. I coughed harshly until my lungs hurt my chest, my head throbbed and I realized that I was also shoeless.

Honestly, I didn't care. I was just glad to be out of the water and onto a muddy, yet solid land. I laid there hearing Sam shouts for Dean frantically, then for me. Turning my head, I slowly lifted up an arm, "Over here!" I forced myself to shout back. I saw Sam on the bridge above.

"Abigail! Stay there!" Sam shouted to me, "Dean's coming to you!"

I shook my head, "I'm fine! Really!" Forcing myself to sit up. Bringing my legs to my chest, I rested my head against my knees for a moment, then heard the brush crack from behind. I jumped up quickly, getting dizzy in turn, to see a soaked to the bone, muddy Dean. He quickly closed the distance between us, enveloping me in his arms.

"Are you alright?" He asked, taking a step back, putting his hands on both sides of my face, inspecting me closely. Placing mine over his, I smiled softly, looking into his eyes. I could see in his eyes that he was frantic about my being in the river as well.

"Dean, I'm fine," I replied, "I promise." I noticed him, frowning deeply, brushing his fingers across my forehead in order to push away my hair out of my face.

"You're bleeding," he murmured.

_No wonder my head hurts, good lord._ I thought as a chilled wind wafted over me and I shivered.

Dean sighed, "C'mon, let's get back to the bridge."

I laughed a little, "Gonna check on your baby?" I asked, earning a sheepish smile from Dean.

"You know I gotta check on my girl, sugar-pie," he replied, wrapping an arm around me as we started up the hill, "What happened to your shoes?"

I drew my lips in a thin line, "I, uh… lost them."

Dean began chuckling, "I've never seen someone lose shoes as much as you do, Abs."

I tilted my head against his muddy shoulder, "Funny how things happen to us, huh?" I hopped a little bit after I stepped on a sharp twig, "_Damn it that hurts_!" I hissed out. Dean then stopped and I looked at him curiously, "What?"

"Hop on," he said, turning his back to me.

I stared at him, "I'm not hopping on your back, Dean, it's a hill."

He shrugged, "I'll chance it."

I rolled my eyes, "Fine." I hopped on his back, feeling him grasp my legs tightly as he began our ascent up the hill. He struggled a little as he packed me on his back, "Dean, are you sure you can haul me up this hill?"

"Abigail," He puffed out, "I'm _sure_ I can haul your light ass up this hill."

I shrugged, "Okay, then." Not that I minded it or anything, it was just a steep hill. But before I knew it, we were up at the road, "I can walk from here." He nodded, allowing me to slide down his back and onto the warm pavement. Dean placed his hands on his thighs to catch his breath for a moment, then straightened up-flicking the mud off. We walked back to the bridge where Sam jogged up to us.

"Hey," he said with a worried look on his face, "You guys alright?"

I glanced at Dean, "Yeah, I reckon we're good."

Sam's eyes went to my forehead and he frowned, "You're hurt."

I swatted his hand away from my head, irritated now, "Sammy, I'm fine." Sam gave me a look of disbelief, though simply nodded. Dean had already gone to the Impala, beginning his close inspection to make sure that Constance hadn't damaged _Baby_ in any way. Sam and I leaned against the railing, watching him silently. I twisted my hair, straining the muddy water from it, then proceeded to wring the water from my shirt.

Sam glanced down to see me without shoes on, glancing back up to me, "Uh, what happened to your shoes?"

I looked down, then up to him, "They're somewhere between back there and here." I replied, pointing a finger where I was at from the fall and behind me, then I shrugged, "Hell, for all I know, they can be all the way downstream."

Sam laughed lightly at me as we heard the hood of the Impala close. We looked over to see Dean leaning on it with an irritated look.

"Your car alright?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, "Yeah," he answered, "Whatever she did to it, seems alright now." His eyes narrowed where we had seen Constance, "That Constance chick, what a _bitch_!" He yelled out to ensure that whatever was around, heard him.

"Well," I said joining Dean on the Impala, wiping mud off of his jacket, "She doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure."

Sam settled down on Dean's right, "So where's the job go from here, genius?"

In frustration, Dean threw up his hands shortly laying them on his jeans, only to realize that they were caked with mud still. He looked down at them with an irritated look and flicked his hands to get rid of the mud.

Something had made Sam started to sniff the air around him, bringing attention to what I was desperately trying to ignore, then turned towards us with an unpleasant look on his face, "You two smell like a toilet." He deadpanned. Dean and I looked down at ourselves. I smelled horrible, and the two of us sitting together smelled even worse. I didn't blame him.

"Oh the joys of a hunter," I said dryly, earning smirks from both Sam and Dean. It was time for a motel and the need of a shower was readily calling my name.

* * *

**_November 2nd, 2005_**

**_Jericho, California_**

**_Motel_**

Thankfully, when we drove back into Jericho, the search for a motel was a short one. I didn't feel like getting out, so Dean and Sam went in to get us a room. I rested an elbow on the window, leaning my head on my knuckles as I began to drift off. What seemed like a few seconds, I jerked awake to the sound of someone banging on the roof of the Impala. Looking around wildly, I saw Sam grinning at me as he laughed. I groaned a little, getting out.

"I don't like you right now," I mumbled, rubbing my forehead, wincing as I ran my hand over the knot that had formed in my hairline.

"We found a lead on Dad." Dean said as a flush of hope ran through me. I was awake now upon hearing that.

"Really? What?" I asked.

He nodded down the row of motel rooms, "Guy in there said that he rented out a room for a month, c'mon." I nodded, quickly grabbing a bag that contained mine and Dean's clothes as we made our way to a room at the end.

Dean and I were on the lookout as Sam kneeled with his lock pick in hand. Making quick work with the lock, Sam swung the door open and stood, entering the room, soon followed by me. I turned, seeing that Dean still stood as lookout, though it seemed that he was looking distracted about something, so I tugged on his arm, pulling him in.

Closing the door behind me, I flipped on the light.

"Whoa," Sam said.

I blinked a few times in order to get adjusted, then looked around with wide eyes, "Whoa indeed." I commented, taking in the sight of the walls being cluttered with old newspaper clippings, research, the familiar scribble of John's handwriting, and of course, maps and photos. I looked over to see a half-eaten hamburger, picking it up and sniffed. I dropped it back on the wrapper in recoil from the putrid smell of it, almost gagging.

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least," Dean stated, reading my mind apparently. I turned to inspect the walls as Sam kneeled, fingering at the salt on the floor before he looked up at us.

"Salt, cats-eye shells..." Sam shook his head, "he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."

Dean walked over to where I stood, placing his hands on my shoulders, "What have you got here?"

I looked over my shoulder at him, "Centennial Highway victims." My body began to relax as I felt his fingers massage the muscles in my neck. I looked back up at the headlines, glancing over each one beginning with one in 1987 of a man by the name of Scott Nifong disappearing, "All of them men."

"I don't get it," Dean started, "I mean, different men, different jobs—" Sam had straightened up from kneeling, crossing the room to look at the papers as well. Dean continued, "—ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

I noticed Sam inspecting a series of papers taped up on the other walls. Furrowing my brows, I walked beside Sam and read something about the Bell Witch. Seeing images of two people being burned alive, a skeletal being blowing a horn obviously frightening people with a post-it note saying _Mortis Danse_, a column about _Devils and Demons_, another one about _Sirens, Witches, and the possessed_ hung with them as well. I saw a wooden pentacle hanging amongst the papers as well as another Post-it saying, Woman_ in White_ above a familiar article after turning on another light.

Sam blinked, "Dad figured it out," he said finally causing Dean to turn.

"What do you mean?" He asked, looking at the both of us.

I turned my head to him, "He found the same article we did," I said, "_Constance Welch_. She's a woman in white."

A wry grin played on Dean's face as he turned back to the photos of the victims, "You _sly_ dogs," he stated before turning back to us, "Alright, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

I shrugged, "She might have another weakness."

"Well, Dad would want to make sure." Dean replied, crossing over to Sam, "He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"

Sam shook his head, "No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though," he tapped on a photo of Joseph Welch, "I'd go ask her husband."

I walked over to him and looked at the article once more. I chewed on my bottom lip as I read that he was thirty at the time of her death. Counting in my head, he had to be sixty-four by now, "Yeah, if he's still alive." I commented, looking at them ruefully. Dean looked at the image below the article of a haggard looking woman in a white dress. He frowned.

"Alright, why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address," Dean said to Sam, "Abigail and I are gonna get cleaned up." He picked up the bag I had brought in and started to walk into the bathroom causing Sam to turn.

"Hey, Dean?" He began, causing Dean to turn around and look at him, "What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry." He lifted his arms slightly after his apology as Dean held up a hand to stop him.

Dean looked between me and him, "No chick-flick moments."

Sam nodded and laughed, "Alright, _Jerk_." I covered my mouth with a gritty hand to prevent a laugh from coming out.

Dean smirked, "Bitch."

Sam laughed again as I walked by him, patting him on the shoulder. I smiled at him, as he returned the favor, giving me a quick one-armed hug before I walked into the bathroom with Dean.

* * *

**_Sam's Point of View_**

Watching Abigail and my brother walk into the bathroom, I noticed something. The smile that was on my face quickly disappeared as I crossed the room to look. Hanging on a large mirror, my father's rosary hung loosely from it along with two photos stuck in the mirror's frame. I reached out, plucking them from where they were and looked at them. In the first photograph, I saw dad sitting on the hood of the Impala with Dean in baseball cap and a younger version of myself in dad's lap. I smiled sadly at it, flipping the second image seeing that it was a newer photograph that had Abigail in it shortly after joining us. I couldn't help but smile at the photograph. Abigail stood beside Dad in an embrace as Dean and I stood on either side of them, the Impala in the background. I think I was at least eleven in it. I could see from the image that Abigail was smiling, though her eyes didn't.

_She's gotten better at hiding her feelings,_ I thought to myself hearing Dean and Abigail talking to each other from the bathroom, I rolled my eyes at them.

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

Getting out of the bathroom before Dean, I sat down on the edge of the bed in a pair of light blue skinny jeans and a Pink Floyd shirt next to Sam who was listening to a voicemail from Jess. He looked distracted by the looks of it. A loud, garbled whine erupted from my stomach, making me look down. I realized I was starving.

_Damn you, stomach._

The sound of the bathroom door opening caused me to look up as Dean came out of the bathroom, grabbing his jacket and shrugged it on as he crossed the room, "Hey guys, I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?"

Sam glanced up at him, phone plastered to his ear, "No."

Dean smiled, "Aframian's buying." I got up to join Dean, quickly rethinking my decision after an onslaught of stars and spots obscured my vision caused me to sit back down holding my head when a pounding began in my temples.

Quickly, Dean was in front of me with a concerned look on his face, "You alright?" By this time, Sam had turned to look at me; concerned as well.

I looked at him, clenching my jaw slightly from the pain, "Yeah, I'm fine," I lied with a small smile, "I'm just dizzy from not eating anything."

Dean took my face in his hands tenderly, "You're the biggest liar I've ever met, Abs." I arched a brow at him, saying nothing, "Wanna know how I know?" He asked me, "Your eyes."

I smiled softly at him, "_Dean_, I swear I'm fine."

"What is it?" He deadpanned, not believing me.

I blew out an irritated sigh, "You don't ever give up, do you?" I replied, earning a smirk from the man, "I'm just…" I hesitated, "I just have a hellacious headache, and I'm dizzy."

He frowned, knowing all too well that I was still suffering from that incident in New Orleans, and the fall off the bridge didn't seem to help it at all, "Damn it, Abigail." Dean sighed, "Just stay here and rest, I'll get us something from that diner," Planting a soft kiss on my lips, I looked at him with adoration in my eyes and nodded slowly, "Sammy, look after her alright?"

Sam stared at us, taking everything in. He surely wasn't used to seeing Dean and I like this, or getting along so well to say the least. He knew that Dean and I had always been at each other's throats one minute, and best of friends the next. Before he left for college, Dean and I had gotten into a huge fight at an old friend's place. He blinked and nodded at Dean, "You know I will, Dean."

He nodded, standing up and went to the door, "Be back soon." I nodded at him, scooting back against the headboard and leaned my head against the wall for a moment after Dean closed the door. Closing my eyes, I opened them seeing Sam giving me a look that told me I needed to explain something to him before looking down at his cell phone after it had started ringing.

"What?" Sam answered, earning a look of curiosity from me. Glancing at me, Sam got up. I moved my body at an angle seeing Dean on the phone as two deputies walked towards him. My heart sank.

"What about you?" He asked when I realized that it was Dean talking to Sam. I struggled to my feet as we both went over to the window, frozen in place when he hung up. We watched as Dean turned towards them, shrugging as they had a brief exchange. I grabbed hold of Sam's arm, trying to steady myself from another dizzy spell.

There, two officers looked in our direction and we stepped back out of sight into the shadows. My head spun, my heart pounding in my throat when I saw them slam Dean up against the cruiser. I really began to fret when one of the deputies began walking towards us. Sam raced around the room, grabbing whatever he could get and handed me the bag of Dean and I's clothes.

"We don't have much time, _c'mon_." He urged as we went to the bathroom, opening the window. I climbed through it first, stumbling when I landed on the ground and caught the bag as Sam threw it out, then finally climbed out of the window, landing beside me. He put his hands on my shoulders, checking if I was okay. I nodded and we took off down the alley behind the motel, not looking back and away from Dean.

* * *

**_Welch's House_**

Joseph Welch's house puts me in the mind of a rundown, abandoned house. Weathered, grimy windows caused me to curl my lip up slightly.

"I don't think this would be worthy of being on _Better Homes and Gardens_, huh?" I asked as we walked up to the stoop. Sam rolled his eyes at my joke, knocking on the door. We waited a moment before an older man answered.

"Hi," Sam began in his formality, "Are you Joseph Welch?"

The man looked us over carefully, his eyes landing on me, merely nodding, "Yeah."

"Do you mind answering a few questions?" I asked with a reassuring smile, "Mind if we take a walk?"

He looked at us for a moment before he nodded again, stepping out of his house into the sunlight. Sam and I walked down the junk-filled driveway as Joseph held a photo that Sam had found in the motel room.

"Mind telling me what this is about?" Joseph asked.

"Uh, yeah," Sam began, digging in his pocket and pulled out an old photograph. I looked at it, realizing that it was of Sam and Dean both when they were younger. He handed it to Joseph, "Have you seen this man?"

Taking it, he stared at the photograph, "Yeah, he was older," He answered, tapping the image with a finger, "But that's him." He handed Sam the photograph, "He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter."

I nodded, taking a step, "That's right. We're working on a story together."

Joseph looked at me, "Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on." He shook his head, "The questions he asked me?"

Sam frowned, "About your wife Constance?"

"He asked me where she was buried," He replied.

"And where is that again?" Sam asked, receiving a look of disbelief from the man.

"What, I gotta go through this twice?" Joseph stated, suspicion dripping off his words. He looked at the both of us. I couldn't much blame him.

I placed a reassuring hand on his arm, "It's just fact-checking," I replied, "If you don't mind."

He sighed after I let my hand fall to my side, "In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"And why did you move?" I questioned.

Joseph shook his head, "I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died." I stopped walking. I didn't much blame him on that one. That made me think back to my old home. Could I do the same? Sam stopped upon seeing me drift off to my thoughts, followed by Mr. Welch.

"Mr. Welch," Sam said, "did you ever marry again?"

Joseph shook his head again, "No way," he answered quickly, "Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known."

Snapping back into reality, I folded my arms, "So you had a happy marriage?" I asked without missing a beat. Sam blinked at me for a moment.

I noticed the hesitation in Joseph, "Definitely." He had replied after a moment.

_Liar_. I thought, I nodded, "Well, that should do it." I looked at Sam, then back to Joseph.

Sam nodded as well, "Thanks for your time." We turned towards the Impala, only for me to stop short, watching his retreat back to the car. I turned back to Joseph, who was already walking away.

"Mr. Welch," I called out, earning both Sam and Joseph's attention, "Did you ever hear of a woman in white?"

Joseph turned, "A what?"

Sam looked at me like I was crazy, I ignored him, "A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?" I received a look that told me I was an idiot.

"It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really." Sam stepped in as he took a few steps back to my side.

"Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women," I said as we both walked up to Joseph and stopped, "You understand. But all share the same story."

Joseph looked between us with a guarded look, "I don't care much for nonsense." He turned on his heel and walked away. Instantly, we followed.

"See," Sam interjected, "when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them."

Joseph stopped in his tracks. If I could've seen his face, I'm pretty sure that I could tell he was guilty of something, and by the way his body was, my hunch was right.

"And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity," Sam continued, "_murdered_ their children." Joseph turned around.

_That caught the ole boy's attention_, I thought seeing the shadows of the past flicker in his aged eyes.

"Then, once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again." I finished.

"You think...You think that has something to do with...Constance? You smart-ass!" Joseph growled at us in anger.

I smirked, tilting my head at the old man, eyes unwavering from his, "You tell me."

Joseph looked at the ground, then back up at us, "I mean, maybe...Maybe I made some mistakes." He began, "But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here!" He pointed a finger at us, "And you don't come back!" He warned. I could see the old man's face shake from either pain or grief. It was impossible to tell. After a moment, he turned and walked away, leaving Sam and me behind.

Sam then turned to me, "What was _that?_"

I shrugged, "I don't know." I admitted, "Something told me that there was more to the story than what Welch was leading on."

Sam shook his head at me, "Sometimes, it's creepy how you and Dean act."

I laughed, "Two peas in a pod, Sammy." I raised a hand, crossing my fingers.

It was at the edge of darkness, Sam sat in the driver's seat of the Impala while I sat on a newfound motorcycle that I had snatched from a bar. I bit into a burger, relishing it. Sam looked up at me, unimpressed. I shrugged, chewing and swallowed the bite of food, taking a drink of pop.

Sam and I sat in silence for a moment, then he cleared his throat, "So, uh…" Sam began, trying to find the words. I looked at him curiously, "You and _Dean_?" He finally said.

I laughed, looking down at the burger in my hand, "Yeah…" I nodded with a smile, "Me and Dean."

Sam shook his head with a laugh as well, "When did this happen?"

I blinked a few times, scrambling my brain to remember, "Oh Lord…" I said, "Uh, probably whenever you were still in school?"

He stared at me with his mouth open, "You mean, Dad let you two-?"

I shook my head, "No, it was just an on and off thing at first. You know… Dad's iron fist." I laughed at myself, "The both of us were too scared to even bring it up to Dad."

Sam chuckled, looking at his lap for a moment, "So, when did you guys make it _official_?" He asked.

I took another bite of my burger and chewed thoughtfully. Swallowing it down, I sucked down another drink of pop, "Um… I think it was an _official_ thing, as you like to call it, when it was my twenty first?" Sam's eyes widened.

"I never knew it," He said quietly.

I smirked, "That's because we had to have it on the down-low, Sammy," I crossed my legs, folding down the wrapper again, "Dad must've caught us in bed together one night and when I got up, I noticed that he was back…" I smiled softly, "I thought he was going to kick the both of our asses, but he didn't. He was outside, drinking a _Bud,_" Sam looked at me, stunned, "Trust me, I had the same look too." We both shared a laugh, "He just told me not to let anything get in the way, to keep a level-head, and that was the extent of it."

"Wow." Sam commented. I nodded, taking the last bite of my burger and threw the wrapper into a garbage bin along with the empty can.

"Story aside," I began, "You know what to do. Get to Breckenridge, salt and burn the bitch's bones," I swung a leg over the side of the motorcycle, "I'm gonna get Dean, and we'll be there in a jiffy."

Sam nodded, "Okay."

"Sammy, whatever you do," I said, "Be careful."

He nodded once more, "I will."

"Good," I replied, "Meet you there." Sam started the Impala, pulling out on the pavement and left. I glanced up at the name of the road that we were on and pulled out a cell phone, dialing 9-1-1.

A few rings, then a voice answered, "_911, what is your emergency_?"

_Eye of the Tiger_, I chanted in my mind, "I-I need help! Someone's been shot!" I cried out frantically.

"_Okay, hold on, ma'am_," the operator instructed, "_Where is your location_?"

"Whiteford Road," I answered, "Please hurry." With that, I hung up, tossing the phone into a storm drain. Situating myself on the motorcycle, I held the clutch in and started the engine as it roared to life. I smiled to myself as I pulled out from where I was sitting and made my way into Jericho once again.

Rounding a corner, I caught sight of Dean slinking out of the police station, obviously speaking to Sam on the phone. I grinned catching part of his conversation, "Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal."

I coasted to where he stood with a grin, "I heard you needed a ride."

Dean blinked, giving me a look of approval and threw me his trademark grin, "Yes, ma'am." I smiled, tossing him the second helmet, he caught it single-handed while still talking on the phone with Sam, "Listen, we gotta talk." He frowned at his brother, "Sammy, would you just shut up for a second?"

My brows rose, _Something's wrong._

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho." Dean replied, answering the question that sat in my mind. I frowned at him as he glanced up at me, "I've got his journal."

I shook my head, "He doesn't go anywhere without it."

"Yeah, well, he did this time." Dean said. He paused to listen to Sam for a moment, "Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going."

"Coordinates?" I answered, receiving a nod from him in confirmation.

"I'm not sure yet," Dean answered Sam. I watched his face scrunch into a look of concern, "Sam?" He asked, "Sam!" Hanging up the phone, he looked at me, "Something's happened."

Instantly, Dean and I donned our helmets as he climbed on the back, taking the shotgun that I had provided. Starting the engine, it roared to life once more as I peeled out from the station, speeding through stop signs until we were out of city limits, heading towards where Sam had gone. It felt like time was going by slowly as I found myself tearing down the road with Dean sitting on the back at almost a hundred miles per hour.

* * *

**_Breckenridge_**

The road to Breckenridge was utterly dark, given the light from the moon helped us with a visual. Seeing the abandoned house at a distance, the tail lights of the Impala instantly gave us Sam's location. Ditching the bike a ways back, Dean tossed me the shotgun as we headed to Sam. Approaching the back of the Impala, I heard Sam speaking to someone.

"_You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been_!" I heard him say, then yelled out in pain. Adrenaline shot through my veins the moment I rounded the driver's side, seeing the ghost bitch sitting on Sam's lap; her hand on his chest. I wasted no time, pumping a round into the chamber and shot. The glass shattered upon impact. I fired again, earning a screech and a glare from Constance before disappearing. I looked around searching for the apparition, Constance suddenly reappears in front of me, causing me to readjust my aim and fired again. As she disappeared, Sam sat up and started the car.

"I'm taking you home," He growled out, earning a look of bewilderment from Dean. I could've laughed my ass off due to the look on his face as Sam peeled the tires of his car, ramming it into the side of the house. Dean and I ran into the wreckage without a second thought, Dean taking the passenger side of the car, while I looked out for Constance.

"Sam! _Sam_!" Dean called out, "You okay?"

Sam nodded, grimacing in pain, "I think…"

"Can you move?" I called out.

He nodded, "Yeah," he looked to Dean, "Help me?" Dean leaned through the window, getting Sam out of the seatbelt. My eyes flickered to Constance's direction as she reappeared; picking up a large photograph. I readied the shotgun, "There you go." I heard Dean say as he helped Sam out of the car, slamming the door. Constance looked up at us with a glare of rage, throwing the picture down; glass shattering. A bureau suddenly scooted towards the two men as a dresser slammed into my side, knocking the wind out of me and the weapon from my hands.

"Abigail!" Dean shouted as I struggled to breathe against the pressure from the dresser. I waved my hand dismissively when the lights of the abandoned home flickered. Constance's face contorted from anger to fear as she looked around wildly when the sound of rushing water became clear. Soon it poured down the staircase. We all watched as the ghastly woman walked over, a young boy and girl standing at the top of the stairs waiting for them. Their arms rose.

"You've come home to us, mommy." They said in chorus. Constance's eyes widened, distraught. The two children reappeared behind her, embracing her tightly as she screamed, her image flickering. The lights in the house surged brightly as the trio of ghosts melted into the floor in a puddle of water, screams echoing but soon died. The weight of the dresser against me lessened as I pushed it away, breathing deeply. Dean and Sam helped me from where I was at, as we approached the spot where they vanished.

Dean wrapped a protective arm around me while I stared, almost in sadness at the spot, "So this is where she drowned her kids," I said softly as Sam nodded.

"That's why she could never go home," Sam replied, "She was too scared to face them."

"You found her weak spot," Dean said impressed, "Nice work, Sammy." With that, he slapped Sam in the chest where Constance had a hold of him before he walked away. Sam laughed through the pain.

"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you." Sam replied before looking at me, "What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey!" I chided playfully, nudging him with a grin, "Saved your ass! If it wasn't for me, Constance the bitchy ghost woulda ganked ya!"

Dean leaned down to look at the car, "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?" He twisted around looking at his brother, "I'll kill you."

I couldn't help but laugh along with Sam, granted my ribs hurt from the dresser. I looked at Dean, my laughter subsiding quickly upon the look that told me we were going to have words about my shooting out the car's window. I smiled sheepishly, throwing him an apologetic look. I mean, he acted like it was the first time I've shot it out before!

* * *

**_Down the Highway_**

I sat in the back of the Impala with Dean's jacket wrapped around me in a moment of comfort and content. AC/DC's _Highway to Hell_ played over the speakers as I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of the leather, Dean's cologne, and his scent. It has always made me calm down. In truth, my body ached like no other. I felt so fatigued that I was utterly surprised I was even awake still, but instead, I watched Sam looking for the coordinates with a rule, having a flashlight tucked between his chin and shoulder.

"Okay, here's where Dad went," Sam informed us. I leaned up to look over his shoulder, seeing a circle on the map, "It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

Dean nodded from beside me, "Sounds charming," he said, "How far?"

"About six hundred miles." Sam replied.

"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning," He said smiling at Sam.

Sam glanced at his brother with a look of hesitation, "Dean," he began, "I, um…"

Dean quickly glanced at the road, then back to Sam, "You're not going," he stated quietly.

"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there." Sam replied, almost guiltily. Reclining back in the seat, I glanced to see Dean nodding and returning his attention to the road. I knew he was disappointed, I was myself. I knew that I shouldn't be though, because of Sam wanting to do something with his life.

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever." He glanced at Sam once more, "I'll take you home."

With a sigh, Sam turned off the flashlight, leaving us in silence and in darkness. Let it not be known that I sat in the backseat, legs curled up to my chest, and wrapped tightly in Dean's jacket whilst tears were silently falling down onto my torn shirt. This was a great run with Sam. It had reminded me of when we were younger, when all of us were a team.

I blinked furiously. There I was getting ready to lose my little brother all over again, though with no yelling or cursing or threatening to be kicked out. I sat there in silence for the rest of the ride, and somewhere in between a gas station and a farm, I had fallen asleep.

_I found myself standing amongst the ruin of an abandoned town. Everything in that town was run down, aged from the elements and time, and… dead. Roofs caved in a few houses, walls torn down in another, sometimes there were just foundations left behind. _

_"Dean?" I called out, "Sammy!"_

_Walking amongst it, I got incredibly antsy; almost nauseous. Reaching to my waist for my Smith and Wesson, I came to realize that I was without it. My heart sank into my stomach as a knot formed, gripping it tight as I ventured further into the ruins. I couldn't help but look every which way due to the feeling that I was being watched by some unseen element. I felt my blood run cold, chilling me to the bone—perhaps into my very soul. _

_"Dean? Sam?" I called out again getting nervous by the second, "Where are you guys?!"_

_I stopped. Listening to my surroundings. Except, there were no sounds. No bird, no wind, nothing. Out of a building, I saw a billowing black cloud rush me. It hit me with a force so strong, I saw a white light and dots obscuring my vision as it rounded back. Rolling out of the way, gasping for air, I got to my feet. The smoke was familiar. I knew what it was. I looked behind me and got knocked to the ground again, tumbling until a man appeared; his foot on my chest and peering down at me with a malicious smile and yellow eyes._

_I felt my body go rigid upon seeing his face, feeling the blood drain out of mine. The man's visage dissipated quickly into a beast so terrifying, the will to scream was futile._

_"My, my, my." The demon said, "What a pleasant surprise, I was expecting Samuel, but, you're a _fine_ specimen."_

_"What—What do you want?" I spat out, "What do you want with Sam?"_

_The demon chuckled, "Child, I don't want to harm you," he paused in thought, "I just want to speak to you, you know, converse?"_

_I snarled up my lip in disgust, "I don't fool with the likes of _you_." I seethed out venomously._

_"You see," he said, "you don't have a choice." Bending down, he grabbed me by the throat, lifting me in the air, "What I have in store for little Sammy will be a treat," He grinned, "And you can't do anything about it."_

_I struggled against his grasp, "Dean!" I choked out, "Sam!"_

_"Aw, now, quit struggling." The demon said soothingly, "No one can hear you in your mind. This is all a dream… or, is it?" I gasped out for another take of air, clawing at his hands, "I should just take you out while I have the chance," the demon contemplated with a low growl, his grip tightening on my throat, "You see, you have the power alone to ruin my plans for little Sammy and all of my children."_

_My eyes widen, _what the hell was he talking about?

_"I'm talking about a master race of children that I have hand-picked myself." The demon answered, reading my thoughts, "How the likes of _you_ managed to weasel yourself into my plans is beyond me, but hear this child, if you so happen to interfere," He brought me closer to him till we were nose to nose, "I will see to it that you were never born."_

I jerked awake, breathing heavily. I looked around to see that I was in the back of the Impala still. My body shook with a force that could probably outdo any earthquake to scale. Dean was driving, listening to the radio while Sam was asleep against the window. I ran a shaky hand through my hair, tears rushing forth. I covered my mouth to prevent myself from eliciting a sob. Dean happened to look up at the sudden movement from me, frowning.

"You alright?" He asked. I nodded my head, saying nothing.

_Should I tell him?_ I asked myself, seeing the concern in his eyes.

"You had another dream." He stated, "You wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head, tears beginning to trickle down my face. I wanted so badly to crawl up front and wrap myself around Dean and Sam both. Especially Sam after this one. Dean frowned at my response.

"You want to climb up here?" He asked and I wasted no time climbing into the front seat, startling Sam awake in the process, and wrapped my arms around his neck. Sam's eyes widened, looking to Dean for a reason as to why I had clung myself to him instead of Dean. I think right then and there Dean realized that the dream I had, involved Sam in some way.

Pulling up in front of the apartment, Sam got out, leaning over to look through the window at Dean, who was still frowning.

"Call me if you guys find him?" He said, looking at the both of us. Dean nodded, as well as I, "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

Dean looked to his brother, "Yeah, alright."

I watched fearfully as Sam patted the door twice, "Take care, Abigail." He stepped back, turning away.

Dean leaned over me to peer out of the passenger door, "Sam?" He called out to him, and Sam turned to look at us curiously, "You know, the three of us made a hell of a team back there."

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

He straightened up in his seat, driving off and leaving Sam behind. Down the road, Dean and I sat in silence.

"You mind telling me what your dream was about?" He said.

I looked at him hesitantly remembering the demon's words, "Dean, this was too real to be a dream." I started as tears pricked my eyes once again as Dean wrapped an arm around my shoulders, bringing me close to him.

"It seems they're getting worse and worse," he murmured.

"It involved Sam," I said, shaking my head, "He said he was going to do something to Sam."

Dean turned his head to look at me with concern, "Abs, _who_ said he was gonna do something to Sam?"

I shook my head, "I don't know, a demon did." Around that time, Dean had glanced at his watch. It had stopped ticking.

He looked at me, "Hold on." He ordered, then grabbed the wheel, jerking it sharply, making a U-turn in the middle of the road, the engine roaring to life as we gained speed back to Sam's apartment. By the time we had made it back, I saw the glow of a fire on his floor and I grabbed the handle to the door. Dean's hand gripped mine suddenly and I looked at him.

"Stay," he ordered as he jumped out of the car, running into the apartment. I watched in terror as my dream unfolded before my eyes, shortly after, Dean and Sam came out. I heard him yelling for Jess as they came closer, stepping out of the vehicle, I approached them, wrapping my arms around my brothers tightly as I have done before. My heart was shattered for Sam.

"It's going to be okay, Sammy," I told him, wincing from how badly my voice cracked. I looked up to Dean as he gazed at me quietly.

An hour had drug by as loads of firefighters, police, and the medics had arrived at the scene. Leaning against the side of the Impala, arms folded across my chest, I watched everything behind me. Dean stood a little ways watching as well before turning back towards us. The sound of rounds being loaded into a shotgun made it evident that Sam was out for revenge. I turned my head, meeting Sam's eyes and saw a resolute look in them. His mouth formed into a tight line, an unimaginable fury residing underneath. It spiked a chill of uneasiness through me as I watched.

Dean glanced between Sam and the trunk quietly as Sam then glanced at him, then at me, and then to the trunk before letting out a sigh, setting down the shotgun and closing the trunk.

"We have work to do." He stated coldly.

* * *

**Hello Everyone, I hope you guys enjoyed reading the first chapter. This story will start out in the first season of Supernatural and proceed on until we can make it to Season 9...perhaps 10. Whichever I see fit. I'm still looking for someone who could lend a helping hand on editing, so please forgive me if there are mistakes out the yin-yang in this chapter. If you do see one, please just shoot me a private message and let me know so I can address it as soon as possible! (:**

**Also, I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**


	4. Crater Lake

**Hello everyone! This is chapter two! And holy cow! I am ****_amazed_**** at how many reviews I have on just two chapters! I'm so stunned and happy to see that everyone is enjoying this! This chapter is super short (like three pages), but I figured I'd make a small flashback as to the early parts of Dean and Abigail's relationship. It takes place six months after John's consent (I'll work on the very beginning soon).**

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

**If there are any typos, mistakes, ****_anything_**** let me know! I'll address it as soon as possible! I'm hoping that I have Dean in character, so if I don't, let me know!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Supernatural (Abigail, the flashbacks, anything non-canon is most likely from my noggin!)**

**Enjoy! (:**

* * *

_Four Years Ago…_

_Six months after John's consent_

_Crater Lake National Park_

_Crater Lake, Oregon_

Sunlight pierced through the curtains as tangled sheets entwined Dean and I's legs. Being the first to wake up, I found myself nestled in his arms, my head lying on his right shoulder. The faint musky scent of sex lingered when I moved around in the bed, careful of not waking Dean when I sat up, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my palms and drew my knees up to my chest. Blinking, I looked around the room to see that our clothes were strewn all over the floor from last night's events bringing a soft smile to my lips.

It had been the first time in almost five months since John had given me and Dean his consent to be together. Even then it just seemed like John had kept a closer eye on the two of us and ensured to keep us busy while keeping it secret from Sam. Dean and I both kept it on the down-low, in which we were also careful not to overstep our boundaries while on the job. Thankfully, we finally caught a break from him; a job up in Oregon to settle a werewolf problem. It had taken us a few days to finish it, though in the midst of the job, Dean had told John that it would take us a week and a half, the half part ensuring that the werewolf didn't have any buddies around when we both knew there weren't any more. I was surprised that John even fell for it seeing how Dean was a horrible liar and couldn't keep anything from his father.

Managing to capture the soft laugh in my throat from the memory from just a couple of days ago, I looked down at Dean's sleeping form softly. He had turned onto his side already, right arm extended in search of me. I scooted to where his fingertips brushed against my leg lightly, sending chills up my spine. Lying back down, I scooted even closer to him feeling the warmth of his body as one of his arms pulled me closer. I smiled, placing an arm around his waist and dragged my fingers along the line of his back. Dean shivered before cracking a tired eye.

"Hey you," he said tiredly, bringing up a hand to rub his eyes.

I smiled at him, "Hey, you."

Dean sat up, placing his weight on his elbow before placing a lazy, yet delicate kiss on my lips. As he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against mine staring into my eyes. Staring back into those luminous hazel-green orbs, I ran my hand down his chest, feeling his necklace under my touch before Dean took my hand in his, "You sleep well?" He asked as a smug smile crept onto his face.

I laughed softly, and nodded against his forehead, "Yeah, 'bout the best I've had in months."

He pulled away from me with a grin, those beautiful eyes of his glimmering in the sunlight, "_Good_, I've been thinking," he began, sitting up, "If Dad still thinks we're on the hunt for more freaks of nature, figured we'd go out and see the sights, since you know," he said shrugging his shoulder slightly, "Crater Lake is a big hole in the ground filled with a lot of water." His gaze went from my face down to my bare chest, licking his lips, "Or we could just stay here and enjoy ourselves for a little while longer." I laughed upon seeing the suggestive waggle of his eyebrows after a cheeky grin had surfaced. Pursing my lips with a look of mock-deep thought, I gently placed my hand on his left shoulder pushing him back onto the bed. He grinned up at me when I straddled his lap, leaned down to where our noses touched feeling his hands rest on my hips. I smirked, grabbing his hands and brought them over his head.

Dean's grin widened more, "You know it makes me all frisky when you take charge like that, sugar-pie."

With a smile, I pecked him on the lips, "Anytime babe," I sat up, leaving his hands above his head and patted his chest, "But we're getting out of this cabin," I watched in amusement as his face went from his smug grin to shock when I stood up throwing him a devilish grin, "Come on."

"That's not right, Abs!" He groaned out, "That's-that's like," he shook his head sitting up, "I can't even think of anything right now!" Dean pointed a finger at me with a frown, "But, that's wrong."

I grinned at him as I pulled on a fresh pair of underwear, then stepped into my jeans, "I'll make up for it tonight, 'kay?" Dean's frown continued. With a small laugh, I walked towards him, still bare-chested and straddled his lap once again, pooching out my bottom lip as I peered up at him in my 'puppy dog eye' impression.

Dean arched a brow as I rested my elbows on the tops of his shoulders, pressing my chest against his. He smirked, "On one condition," he stated.

I smiled, "What?"

"You get pie." He deadpanned as I laughed at him, and nodded.

"Deal." I replied, kissing him softly. Dean's tongue ran the length of my lips before delving in to meet my tongue. Feeling his hands cup the back of my head, he deepened the kiss until I felt that oh-so familiar ball of tension in my lower stomach. A soft mewl emitted from within my throat as our breathing became punctuated with short, soft bursts whenever we broke to get air. Looking into his eyes for the miniscule second that we were parted, I saw that lust-filled glint swirling within as he crashed his lips on mine once more.

Before I knew it, I was back in the bed with my jeans undone as our kiss evolved into something more primal. With every nip Dean's teeth made against my neck, another mewl would make its way out from my mouth. Feeling his calloused hand on my breast, I squirmed with every delicious squeeze, pinch, and flick his fingers were able to do. It was mind-blowing how someone could change my mind so quickly about going outside to see the sights, back into bed for a more intimate time.

Looking up at Dean through half-lidded eyes, my breathing becoming sporadic, and my nerves going haywire, I realized that Dean was grinning devilishly at me, "Two can play at that game, Cherry-pie." He stated, sitting up with an erection in tow, and rolled off the bed with a smirk. I sat up on the bed, wide-eyed as he pulled on his boxer-briefs, then pulled on his jeans before turning to look at me, "Well? We're wasting daylight, princess."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Yeah, yeah, I get it." I said, getting off the bed and retrieved my bra. Getting it on, then my Johnny Cash shirt, I flipped my hair over and wadded it on top of my head in a half-assed bun. Seeing him lacing up his boots, Dean looked up at me and winked causing me to instantly grin like an idiot. What could I say? Whatever I felt in my heart, I sure as hell hoped he felt the same way, because I knew for a fact that I was afraid to tell him, _Dean Winchester_, everything that I knew and wanted to say in my heart.

Just then, Dean's cell phone rang. I arched a brow at him when he shrugged at me, then flipped it open, "Yeah," he said. A frown took place quickly and he nodded, "Yeah, we'll be there." With an annoyed look, Dean closed the phone and shoved it back into his pocket.

"Let me guess, Dad." I stated dryly.

Dean nodded, "You guessed right, wants to meet us in Iowa before taking on a job in Kittanning, Pennsylvania. Poltergeist."

Pursing my lips in an attempt to mask my disappointment, I glanced out the barely open window, "I reckon." I walked to the nightstand picking up my pack of cigarettes and shoved them in my pocket with my cell phone.

"Hey," I heard him say, "Maybe next time, alright?"

I nodded slowly, "Yeah, maybe." Hearing a sigh come from him, the sound of his boots scraping against the hardwood floors thumped as he approached me and placed a gentle hand on my face. Looking up at him, I could see the conflict in his eyes, knowing that he too wanted to be able to spend what alone time we had together and I knew deep down, duty came before anything else. Play time was over, we were officially back on the clock.

"The wondrous life of a hunter," I muttered earning an amused chuckle from Dean.

"The best," he replied, wrapping his arms around me and pulled me into his muscular frame, "I'm sure if we were a little bit late, Dad wouldn't want to kill us all that much." He added, peering down at me with a smirk. I looked up at him in almost shock, "Come on, let's go look at that large hole filled with water."


	5. Wendigo

**Hello everyone! Chapter four is up, and I can't say how amazed I am at the reviews still! Goodness! I can't tell you all how much I appreciate reading them! Ya'll are great! Thank you! **

**I am still looking for a Beta Reader/editor/volunteer who wouldn't mind looking through everything to ensure that there are no mistakes, perhaps help out and give ideas for future chapters, etc. So, if any of you are interested, or know of anyone, please spread the word or just PM me!**

**Also, I have a question. Smut. Yea, or nay in a future chapter? If so, how soon, and if not, how far into this would you want to read it? I want everyone to be able to enjoy this story as much as I do writing it. Leave me stuff in the reviews, even suggestions and whatnot! I'm all ears! I want to hear your opinions!**

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Supernatural franchise, however, I do own Abigail, any future non-canon characters, and non-canon stories (aka, flashbacks, or filler chapters)**

**Enjoy! (:**

* * *

**_November 10th, 2005_**

It had been eight days since the death of Sam's girlfriend, Jessica. Eight days since that terrible dream, and I haven't slept well since then. What the demon had told me, frightened me to sleep, afraid to see the yellow-eyed beast again if I was to fall into a slumber. Dean and I hadn't talked much either.

We all sat in the Impala in a dead silence, except for Foreigner's _Hot Blooded_ playing across the stereo. Dean and I were the only ones awake. Sam sat in the back, arms crossed and snoring softly in his moment of calm. Since Jessica's death, Sam had been a stewing vessel of a quiet rage that had only time to allow itself fester more and more he dwelled on it. And _that_ has been often.

I had tried to cheer him up, much as he had done when I had lost my family. I tried in vain, only to receive the cold shoulder from both of them. _What was I supposed to do?!_ I was worn down to the bone from the countless hours of no sleep. I sat there wondering how I was even functioning.

"You okay?" Dean asked, throwing me a casual glance. I looked at him a little stunned that he was talking to me again.

Nodding, I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "Yeah, peachy."

Dean rolled his eyes in a disbelieving manner, "Yeah, right, Abs."

I frowned at him, "Really, Dean, I'm okay."

He pursed his lips, not replying to me, resting his arm on the door with his other hand on the steering wheel. I looked down into my lap where Dean's jacket laid from the previous night as a makeshift blanket. _So it was going to be like this,_ I thought to myself bitterly. Up and down again, just like when we were in our teens.

The sound of jerking caught my attention. I twisted in my seat to see that Sam had awoke. _So, he isn't sleeping well either,_ I thought to myself as he blinked a few times, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, before he rubbed his eyes.

"Hey. You okay?" I asked softly, as Dean looked over at me, then glanced up in the rearview mirror in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He muttered in bitterness, turning his head away from me to gaze out the window. I nodded slowly.

Once again, Sam gave me the cold shoulder.

"Another nightmare?" Dean asked only to have Sam his clear throat in an attempt for us to drop it, "You wanna drive for a while?" Sam and I looked at him with arched brows. Sam chuckled at his attempt to cheer him up. I smiled softly at Dean, knowing it was hard to stay upset at him.

"What?" He asked, feigning innocence.

"Dean," Sam stated, "your whole life you never _once_ asked me that."

He shrugged a response, peering at his brother through the rear view, "Just thought you might want to," he replied with a smirk, "Nevermind."

"Look, guys," Sam sighed out, "you're worried about me," I felt him put a hand on my shoulder, "I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

I rolled my eyes in a disbelieving manner, "_Mhmm._" I was the queen of being _okay_, I knew that he was lying through his teeth. Dean knew it as well from the same eye roll. Sam leaned up, grabbing the map from between Dean and me.

"Alright, where are we?" He asked, opening it.

"We are just outside of Grand Junction," I replied as he folded down the map of Colorado, the large red X saying _35-111_ marking our newfound destination.

"You know what?" Sam said, looking up at us forlornly, "Maybe… maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon."

Dean let out a sigh, "Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—"

"We gotta find Dad first." Sam finished for him with an exasperated sigh.

"Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence." Dean continued. I looked down at my lap guiltily, only to be surprised by Dean's hand taking mine. I looked up at him, "And Abs having that funky dream about it," he shook his head, "Something's going on. Dad'll have answers." Dean nodded to himself in self-reassurance, "He'll know what to do."

"It's weird, man," Sam murmured from the backseat, "These coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge."

"What is it?" I inquired.

"There's nothing there," Sam replied, "It's just _woods_." He sat down the map, "Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

Still holding Dean's hand, I felt a whole lot better knowing that no one felt as if I were the reason for these happenings. I glanced outside the window as we passed a National Forest sign saying _'Welcome to Lost Creek, Colorado National Forest._'

* * *

**_Ranger Station_**

Running delicate fingers over the three dimensional map of the national forest, I kept my attention on a ridge that was labeled _Blackwater Ridge_ while Dean was wondering around the station looking at the decorations like an enthusiastic child.

"So Blackwater Ridge _is_ pretty remote," I murmured to Sam.

"It's cut off by these canyons here," Sam pointed out, "rough terrain, dense forest..."

"Along with abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place," I said with a smirk, and nudged him with a smile, "We might be lucky and find some. Easy money." Sam mustered up a chuckle at my joke. My smile widened, _Making progress!_

"Guys, check out the size of this freaking bear!" Dean stated in awe. Sam and I turned from the map to walk over to where Dean stood staring at a framed photo of a man standing behind a behemoth of a bear. I let out a low whistle.

"And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area," I stated with a smirk.

Sam nodded, "It's no nature hike, that's for sure."

Dean broke eye contact with the photo and looked at me with a grin, "Yeah, at least we have Grizzly Adams here in case we run into some of them," he joked. I rolled my eyes and folded my arms, only to giggle when Dean wrapped an arm around my shoulder, bringing me into an embrace.

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" Said a voice from behind us. We whipped around, startled to see an older ranger by the name of _Wilkinson, standing_ with a concerned look on his face.

"Oh, no, sir," Sam began to throw Wilkinson off, "we're environmental studies majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper." He laughed nervously as Dean grinned from beside me and raised his fist.

"Recycle, man." Dean chirped.

Wilkinson eyed us, "_Bull_." I stiffened in my spot, glancing to Sam and Dean, seeing that they too didn't move a muscle, "You're friends with that Haley girl, right?"

I thought for a moment, "Yes," I said earning bewildered looks from Sam and Dean, "Yes, we are, _Ranger Wilkinson_." The older man looked at us patiently; suspecting that he's seen the type of hikers that were all about the challenge of the wilderness and Mother Nature, but didn't consider their own safety.

"Well, I will tell you exactly what we told her," Wilkinson said, "Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing person now, is it?" The three of us shook our heads and Wilkinson smiled, "You tell that girl to quit worrying," He continued, "I'm sure her brother's just fine."

Dean nodded, "We will. Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

"That is putting it mildly," Wilkinson concurred, obviously having dealt with her before.

"Actually, you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit," Dean spoke earning a suspicious gaze from the older ranger, "You know, so she could see her brother's return date." He added a raise of his brows, giving the ranger what he said was his 'adorable and innocent' look. I coughed into my hand to prevent myself from snorting with laughter.

Moments later, we were walking out of the station with Dean holding the permit in his hand and laughing as if he got an invitation to the Playboy Mansion.

Sam looked at him with irritation dripping off of him, "Guys, why are we even worrying about some girl?"

I looked at Sam, leaning against the passenger side of the car, folding my arms across the top, "What do you mean?"

He frowned, "The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for?" He snapped, "Let's just go find Dad."

"I don't know," I replied dryly, "maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?" Dean, standing opposite of me, tilted his head with a look that agreed with me. Sam furrowed his brows.

"What?"

"Dude, since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later, anyway?" Dean asked, looking at his brother with a confusion hinting around on his face.

Sam looked at the both of us, "Since now," he muttered, opening the car door.

"Really?" I asked with an arched brow, following suit with Dean and climbed in the car. It was uncharacteristic of Sam to act like this. I mean, Dean was bad for that stuff, now Sammy? _Good lord_. One gun-ho man was tedious by itself alone, but _two_? I shook my head, realizing that this kind of outlook was going to end up a bad idea.

* * *

**_Collins' House_**

Dean, Sam and I stood outside of the door as a girl, probably no older than twenty or twenty-one answered the door. She was a pretty girl; sporting a tight brown shirt that showed off the right things-tanned skin, shoulder-length curly brown hair, and brown eyes that held a suspicious glint in them. I smiled at her through the screen door.

"You must be Haley Collins," I spoke, hearing my drawl twang everything, "I'm Abigail." I introduced, "This is Dean and this is Sam." I motioned my hand to each of the men with my smile in place, "We're rangers with the Park Service? Ranger Wilkinson sent us over," I gave her a timid laugh, "Wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy."

Haley looked at us hesitant, then nodded her head, "Lemme see some ID."

Reaching into my pair of black skinny jeans, I pulled out my fake ID with the name of Abigail Simmons, showing it to her.

_Eye of the Tiger, Abigail_. I chanted to myself as Haley glanced from my ID back to me, to which I smiled sweetly. Pursing her lips, she opened the door, stepping aside.

"Come on in," She said.

"Thanks," Dean replied from behind me as we stepped inside.

"That yours?" Haley suddenly asked, earning a curious look from me as I turned to see that she was motioning her head towards the Impala. Dean grinned instantly at the recognition of his car.

"Yeah," he said, smiling.

"Nice car," she complemented as she then turned, leading us into the kitchen. Dean walked past us mouthing something along the lines of _she noticed my car_! Sam rolled his eyes while I shook my head, smiling at him.

_Boys and their toys_.

"So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked as Haley walked back into the room, holding a bowl of food, placing it on the table.

"He checks in every day by cell," she explained, "He emails, photos, stupid little videos—" Haley shook her head, worried, "—we haven't heard anything in three days now."

I shrugged, "Maybe he can't get cell reception," I suggested to her, "I mean, it's pretty well secluded." Recalling the three-dimensional map back at the ranger station.

She shook her head, "He's got a satellite phone, too."

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?" Dean suggested as well, I could hear the underlying symbolism in his words and swallowed the knot that sat in my throat.

"He wouldn't do that," A younger teen blurted out with an exasperated look on his face, looking away as Dean eyed him. I think we all were a bit like this boy. I was instantly brought back by the intensity of his faith in his brother, to a time of my siblings were always counting on me or awaiting my parent's arrival. The muscle in my jaw ticked from the memory.

"Our parents are gone," Haley explained, "It's just my two brothers and me," she continued, placing a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder, "We all keep pretty close tabs on each other."

I nodded, knowing exactly how she felt. Dean, Sam, and I were the same way with each other back then, then for a short while, it has been just Dean and I.

"Can I see the pictures he sent you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Haley replied as she pulled up photos, "That's Tommy." She said pointing to a smiling, attractive man sitting in the tent. My brows rose, tilting my head sideways in interest as she clicked through several photos before stopping at a video.

She clicked twice on the still frame, opening the video player.

"_Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge_," Tommy's spoke calmly, "_We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow._" Judging by the look on Sam's face, he had seen something.

"Well, we'll find your brother," Dean told Haley with a promise in his words, "We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there. Look, I can't sit around here anymore, so I hired a guy," Haley said as she stood behind her brother, wringing her hands in agitation while I looked over to Sam with a look of nervous anticipation, "I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

Dean nodded, "I think I know how you feel," he spoke thoughtfully, looking away in avoidance of my gaze. I furrowed my brows in his proceedings of ignoring me.

"Hey, do you mind forwarding this to me?" Sam asked, glancing back down at the pictures.

_Oh, yeah, definitely saw something_, I assured myself with pursed lips.

Haley nodded at my brother, "Sure."

* * *

**_Bar-Night_**

I stood alongside the pool table; listening to the patrons chatting with each other. After a man by the name of Riley backed up from the table, he smirked.

"Think you can beat me?" He jeered, "You have two left."

I smirked, responding to his question by aligning the cue ball with the two balls and pocketed it with ease. I watched as the white ball narrowly missed the left hand corner pocket as it sank the seven ball. I straightened up, throwing him a cocky grin as I rounded the pool table in order to align myself with the eight ball.

I tapped the center right pocket, "I'm gonna make it there." Earning a snort in reply.

"Heh, good luck getting 'round my fourteen ball," he retorted. The grin wiped off Riley's face instantly whenever I shot the cue ball, causing it to jump over his fourteen ball, and rolled hitting the eight ball. The both of us watched with such a ferocity, that I was surprised it didn't just burst into flames. Nonetheless, it fell into the pocket just like I said it would, and I turned to the stunned man.

"Better luck next time, ole boy," I replied sweetly as I held my hand out awaiting my winnings. Riley frowned at me, digging in his pockets, and slapped a wad of cash into my hand as well as a piece of paper, "Thanks doin' business with ya," I called out with a cheeky grin and placed the money that I had won inside my bra; revealing more money that I had won from earlier games. I unfolded the paper, unveiling that he had given me his number. I laughed to myself as he walked off, his pride damaged from being beaten by a girl.

Putting the poolstick on the table, I made my way to where Dean and Sam were sitting. They always made a point to keep me within their sights in case trouble was to arise. Dean had made sure of it. I saw Sam rummaging through his bag while Dean took a drink of beer, his eyes landing on me, twinkling.

"Do any good?" Dean asked whenever I sidled next to him and picked up the untouched mug of beer. Taking a drink, I sat the glass mug down, and dug into my shirt, pulling out wads of cash, even papers with numbers written on them. Dean's brows rose at the numerous pieces of paper. I had him beat by four or five already.

"Yeah," I replied as he chuckled, planting a kiss on my temple, "I think I might've damaged some egos too." It felt good to not have to worry about much that had to do with us hunting right at the moment. The ability to have downtime felt downright amazing. The feeling of being dizzy and sick at the same time finally went away, giving me the OK to do some of the heavy lifting.

Sam straightened up, "So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic." He told us, "Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found." He opened Dad's journal.

I tilted my head, "Any before that?"

"Yeah," he replied, pulling out newspaper articles, turning them towards Dean and me to look at them, "In 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack." He then pulled out his laptop, "And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936." Opening the lid to the screen, Sam twisted the computer towards us seeing that it was already open to Tommy's video, "Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork. Okay. Watch this. Here's a clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video to the laptop. Check this out." He progressed the video in slow motion, my eyes quickly detecting a large shadow behind Tommy as he finished his video. I brought my hand to my chin, pulling on my bottom lip subconsciously.

"Do it again," Dean urged, focusing on video as Sam repeated the frames.

Still pulling on my bottom lip, I let it go, making an audible _pop_ against my teeth, "That's three frames, a fraction of a second…" I murmured, placing my fingers to my temples, trying to do the math, raising my head and looked at Dean and Sam, "Whatever that thing is, it can move."

Dean swatted Sam from across the table causing him to look up at him, "Told you something weird was going on."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, closing his laptop and put it away, "I got one more thing."

Dean looked at him with raised brows, "What?" Sam handed over another article for us to read, "In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive."

We scanned the Lost Creek Gazette article, a grin playing on my lips.

_Witnesses are good_. I stated to myself, _Way to go, Sammy_.

"Is there a name?" Dean asked.

* * *

**_Shaw House-Night_**

The old man had let us in his apartment with barely a question asked. Right off the bat, the smell of smoke hit me like a ton of bricks. I found myself eyeing the cigarette that hung loosely in his mouth. It's been three years since a cigarette graced my presence.

I used to have a minor addiction, so sue me.

The man shuffled through his house in a pair of worn out house shoes, the hardwood floor creaking as we followed him, "Look, ranger," Mr. Shaw spoke in a gravelly tone, "I don't know why you're asking me about this. It's public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—"

"Grizzly?" I interrupted him in a disbelieving tone, "That's what attacked them?"

I watched closely when Shaw took a draw from his cigarette, taking it out of his mouth and nodded slowly, two streams of smoke billowing from his nose. I gazed into his hazy eyes, seeing the familiar haunted look that I carried in mine. He was lying. It wasn't bears.

"The other people that went missing that year, those bear attacks too?" Dean stated, earning no response from the old man, "What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing?" Again, Shaw didn't respond.

"If we knew what we are dealing with," I spoke softly in an attempt to coax the truth out of the man, "We might be able to stop it."

The old man laughed harshly at me, "I _seriously_ doubt that," he replied to me, "Anyways, I don't see what difference it would make." He sat down in his recliner, "You three wouldn't believe me," he shook his head, "Nobody ever did."

Sam sat across from the old man, "Mr. Shaw, what did you see?" He asked calmly earning a pause from him.

"Nothing," he began, "It moved too fast to see. It hid too well. I heard it, though. A roar. Like...No man or animal I ever heard." Ducking out the reminisce of his cigarette, Shaw had a look of fear in his eyes.

"It came at night?"

Mr. Shaw nodded in response, lighting up another cigarette. I watched him closely, my fingers itching to reach out and snatch it from him.

_Just one toke_, I whined, quickly shoving it out of my mind, feeling Dean's gaze on me every now and then. I blew out a short burst of air, _Eye of the Tiger, Abs._

"It came into your tent?" Sam continued as Shaw nodded once more, "And it got inside your tent?"

"It got inside our _cabin_," he said pointedly, "I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn't smash a window or break the door." Shaw took a long draw as a means of comfort, "It _unlocked_ it." Shaw leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, "Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn't even wake up till I heard my parents screaming."

I stood, folding my arms, "It killed them?"

"Dragged them off into the night," he said wearily with a shake of his head, the lit cigarette smoldering between his index finger and middle finger, "Why it left me alive… been asking myself that ever since." I bowed my head to the ground down at my boots, I've asked myself that same question. _Why me? Why not kill me, instead of my whole family?_ Movement from him as he reached for his collar, "Did leave me with this though," with that, he pulled down the collar of his old shirt to reveal three long, grisly scars—claw marks. My eyes never left them, "There's something evil in those woods. It was some sort of demon."

_Demon? _Not hardly_. _

_Creature? _Plausible.

"Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors," I argued, "If they want inside, they just go through the walls."

Sam shrugged, "So it's probably something else, something corporeal."

Dean smirked, "_Corporeal?_" He asked, "Excuse me, professor."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, "Shut up," he looked over at me, "So what do you think?"

"The claws, the speed that it moves…" Dean shrugged before I could speak, "Could be a skin walker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and its _corporeal._" I grinned, seeing how amused Dean was about using a new word, "Which means we can kill it."

The three of us bantered throughout the building, discussing the various possibilities of creatures that had claws and speed, with my reasoning bubbling down to a possibility of an ancient creature called a _Wendigo_. It was quickly shot down by Dean coming up with the fact that Wendigos were in Minnesota and Michigan. Then brought up another possibility as we found ourselves in the parking lot. Dean then opened the trunk of the Impala, then the arsenal, and propped it up with a shotgun. I helped him place some guns into a duffel bag as we carefully made preparation for everything that was impervious to bullets, iron, knives, and etcetera.

My best bet was still leaning on a Wendigo. For some reason, it just stuck with me in my head.

Sam leaned in, "We cannot let that Haley girl go out there."

I looked up to my brother with a snort, "Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her?" I asked, "That she can't go out into the woods because of some big scary monster?" I continued in total sarcasm only to see Sam nod.

"Yeah." He replied, I shook my head ruefully at him.

Dean looked at him incredulously, "Her brother's missing, Sam. She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend." He then picked up the-now zipped-duffel.

"Finding Dad's not enough?" Sam argued, slamming the weapons box shut, then the trunk, "Now we gotta babysit too?"

I gave Sam a hard, long stare unbelieving of how irrational he was acting.

Sam looked at me defiantly, "What?"

I lifted my hands up defensively, "_Nothing_."

Dean only shook his head and threw the bag at Sam as he and I walked off, leaving him behind.

* * *

**_Forest-Day_**

The next morning was a surprisingly warm and very sunny day. Not that I was expecting anything less of a cool, autumn day. I took the opportunity to sport my hair in a messy bun with a few tendrils of hair framing my face and donned a pair of aviator shades. I sported a light, army green military jacket with the sleeves rolled a fourth of the way up, black wife-beater shirt, and a pair of destroyed jeans that were utterly comfortable. My mother's rosary hung visibly from my neck, the crucifix tucked away from any possibility of it getting snagged on something and breaking. Since I knew that we were due to hike all day, I managed to snatch me a pair of comfortable hiking boots that went well with my attire.

Quietly staring out of the window, my eyes traced the rocky peaks and timberline of the Colorado wilderness. Ahead, I noticed a trio of people gathered at the beginning of the trailhead. Dean eased in behind Haley and her brother with the Impala while a new man was checking a shotgun. They were all carrying full backpacks on their backs.

I noticed Haley's body stand in a defiant stance, shaking her head at us when Dean parked the car. Getting out, I stretched a bit, bringing a leg to my bottom, then grabbed the other stretching the muscles out. It was going to be a _long_ and tiresome day, if I wasn't enough.

"You guys got room for three more?" Dean asked casually.

Haley tilted her head, "Wait, you want to come with us?" She asked.

The man stood by her gave us a quick look over, "Who are these guys?"

"Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," she replied dryly as Sam and I left Dean to the back talking; we walked past everyone. I bent over on a downed, moss covered log to fix my hair back into a bun, giving the man nearby the opportunity to take a look. He stared, taking in all of my curves, his eyes resting on my backside appreciatively. Apparently Dean had caught sight of this and frowned when he turned to Dean.

"You're the rangers?" He quipped, eyeing Dean's attire.

With a nod, Dean sized him up, "That's right."

Haley smirked, "And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?" Instantly, his macho man ruse deflated as he looked down at himself. I pursed my lips into a tight grin in order to burst out laughing. How the man was able to run around in boots like that was beyond me, but whatever floated his boat. I noticed him taking a quick look at Haley's legs in the process, smirking.

"Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts," he retorted without missing a beat, meeting up with Sam and I. I rolled my eyes at him, doing a quick look over of what I had on me. I rolled my pant legs up past my knee, pulling out a rather large hand knife from inside my boot. Haley's brother, Ben glanced at me, eyes widening upon seeing the knife. I looked up from checking the blade, seeing him staring. I smiled at him, throwing him a wink.

The man bristled at Dean's carefreeness, "What, you think this is funny?" He turned to us, nostrils flaring, "It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt!"

"Believe me, I know how dangerous it can be," Dean stated, "We just wanna help them find their brother, that's all." Without another word, Dean led us into the forest.

Later in the day, we found ourselves deeper into the forest. Stepping over fallen logs, rocks and little holes, Roy took the lead, followed by Dean and I, Haley, Ben, and Sam bringing up the rear. I matched Roy's pace easily, Dean not far behind.

"Roy, you said you did a little hunting?" I asked, glancing at the landscape around us trying to strike up a conversation. Roy nodded, watching his footing.

"Yeah, more than a little," Roy replied, seeming interested in my question, "You?"

I pushed a strand of hair out of my face, peering at him over my aviators, "Why yeah."

"What kind have you gone after?" He asked.

I let out a thoughtful sigh, "I haven't been in _years_," I began, "When I was younger, my dad would take me in the backwoods back home and we'd go after squirrel, turkey, boar, and deer; sometimes bear if we were lucky," I grinned mischievously throwing him a wink, "A family friend took me out one year when I was _real_ little while my parents were away, killed my first deer with him. Been hooked ever since."

Roy smirked, "An experienced hunter," he stated earning a dirty look from Dean, "I like that in a woman."

My brows rose, instantly regretting having to show off.

"Uh-huh," I heard Dean butt in, "What kind of furry critters do you hunt?" He asked, putting himself between Roy and me. I threw him a look of thanks standing clear of the man.

He frowned at Dean's positioning, "Mostly buck, sometimes bear. An occasional doe, every now and then," he added with a wink my way.

_Okay, now he's getting creepy_. I concurred as Dean passed him up in his mini footrace, oblivious to where he was stepping. I opened my mouth getting ready to tell him to stop, only to be cut off by his continuation of testosterone.

"Tell me," Dean continued, "Did, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?" Without warning, Roy grabbed Dean by the arm. Sam looked at us from the rear curiously.

Dean froze, staring at the man in the eye, "Whatcha doing, Roy?"

Not saying a word, Roy grabbed up a relatively large stick, poking the ground. A loud, metallic snap resonated throughout the group as he triggered the bear trap that lay within stepping distance of Dean. Haley gave us a look of annoyance.

"You should watch where you're stepping. _Ranger_." Roy told him in a mocking tone. Tossing down the stick in front of Dean, he sidestepped him retaking the lead.

Dean looked down at the trap for a moment before he looked up to me with a sheepish grin, "It's a bear trap."

_No shit,_ I thought with a wary look at the tripped metal trap. I threw him a small smile despite what had happened, unaware of the audience that was watching our little exchange; aka. Haley Collins.

As we pushed deeper, Haley trudged up to Dean, "You didn't pack any provisions," She stated, "You guys are carrying a duffel bag. The way you _two_ look at each other and jump to each other's safety?" She scoffed at me and Dean, "You're not rangers." Haley then grabbed Dean by the arm, "So who the hell are you?" She growled out as her brother Ben walked past the three of us. Sam looked at Dean curiously, telling him to take me with him and keep on walking. I furrowed my brows at him, only to concede, beginning to walk with Sam; only to throw a dark look toward Haley signifying if she were to start something, she'd mess up something bad. I turned my back finally going with the march.

Trudging slowly, I hung back catching snippets of their conversation, only getting, "Sam and I are brothers…"the farther I walked, the harder it was to hear. Giving up, I picked up the pace, stepping in place with Sam. I heard the crackling of a bag, piquing my interest as I turned my head, seeing Dean pull out a large bag of peanut M&amp;Ms, sticking his hand into the bags as he continued to walk.

"And you said I didn't pack provisions!" I heard him call out waving the bag at her. I couldn't help but smile at how resilient Dean was, hearing him catch up to me; chewing with a mouthful of candy. He looked at me with a chocolaty grin-his cheeks bulging like a chipmunk-causing me to start laughing at him.

"M&amp;M?" He managed to ask, tilting the bag towards me. I grabbed a handful of the chocolate/peanut combos and popped a few in my mouth, chewing thoughtfully at the crunchy goodness that was candy. He then looked at Sam tilting the bag at him.

Of course, Sam denied it because he wanted to keep his girlish figure.

We had come to a rather large clearing in amongst the trees. It was pretty much barren give or take the numerous fallen logs. Roy had stopped ahead of us, gesturing for us to come around.

"This is it," he announced, "Blackwater Ridge."

Sam walked a little ways ahead of him, "What coordinates are we at?"

Roy pulled out a GPS, "Thirty-five and minus one-eleven." He responded.

I furrowed my brows as Dean and I approached Sam, "You hear that?" I asked, glancing around. Dean and Sam stilled, listening. _Nothing_.

"Yeah," Sam murmured, "Not even crickets."

Roy put away his GPS, shouldering his weapon, "I'm gonna go look around."

I looked at the man like he was crazy, "You shouldn't go off by yourself," I stated.

Roy smirked at me, "That's sweet," he retorted, "Don't worry about me." He waved his gun, pushing between Sam and Dean to retake the lead.

"All right, everybody stays together. Let's go." Dean said, as we followed Roy away from the coordinates that our father had given us.

_There was nothing here. Not a thing. Zip. Nada._ I told myself, _What is Dad wanting us to do?_

That was when I felt it. That antsy feeling. Instinctively, I glanced around me warily. I knew right then and there that we were not alone.

Delving deeper into the forest, the terrain had become more challenging via rocks and boulders that were now laying around willy-nilly, making me realize that they had framed another clearing. The ground beneath our feet were cushioned in a vast bed of moss and pine needles; our footsteps barely audible except for the occasional crack of twigs that someone would step on.

The feeling I got from the first clearing never left me as it seemed to have some foreboding meaning to it. My heart started to race as we looked around our new surroundings.

"Haley! Over here!" Roy's voice called out from a distance as Haley dashed in his direction, quickly followed by the rest of us, only to stop seeing a trashed campsite.

Haley stood with her hands over her mouth, "Oh my god," she said fearfully. With a frown, I looked to Sam and Dean as they stared at the bloody, torn tents as well. Supplies had laid scattered across the ground.

Roy kneeled, "Looks like a grizzly." He deduced when Haley looked around the destroyed campsite numbly.

"Tommy?" She called out, taking off her backpack and went through the campsite, searching for her brother, "Tommy!" As fast as my legs could carry me, I had caught up with her, clapping my hand a little too hard over her mouth.

"Shh!" I said earning a glare from her.

Haley jerked my hand away from her mouth, "Tommy!" She yelled out before I forcefully brought my hand up to her mouth again.

"Will you _shut up_?" I hissed out.

"Why?" She asked rather heatedly from having my hand over her mouth.

"Cause something's still out there," I said, letting my hand fall from her mouth and wiped in on my pant leg.

"Sam!" Dean's voice called out from an area further away from where I was at.

I was still looking around the campsite for any other signs of the struggle before finding myself wandering to where Dean and Sam were at. They were crouched, looking at a pair of bloody slides that seemed to have vanished into thin air. I ended up catching Dean saying, "I'll tell you what, that's no Skinwalker or black dog."

The pair stood up, Dean bumping into me. We exchanged a glance between each other, though, just from seeing everything, I had understood the situation. I turned, heading back to camp with Dean and Sam following behind and noticed Haley pick up an object before she started crying.

Walking over to her, I saw that it was her brother's cell phone; busted and bloody. I kneeled beside her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Hey," I said softly, "he could still be alive."

Haley gave me a look of utter disbelief.

"_Help! Help!_" A man's voice cried out from inside the dark forest around us. In no time, I was on my feet, deftly following Roy close behind to aid whoever was yelling, "_Help! Somebody!"_

We all stopped where the voice was coming from. My eyes instantly moving up to the trees. I had a terrible feeling of dread resonating throughout my body.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley asked, looking at everyone for a confirmation. We all fell silent, something had alerted Sam.

"Everybody back to the camp," he ordered. We ran back to see that all of our supplies were gone.

Haley gasped out, "Our packs!"

I brought my thumb up to my mouth, beginning on chewing at the skin around my nail, eyes on the trees. For whatever reason it was, I felt as if I should've looked up there, and I stared at each one for what seemed like a long while. Dean picked up on what I was doing, glancing occasionally into the trees. He walked over to me.

"You alright?" He asked, concerned.

Looking at Dean silently for a moment, I studied his face. I nodded my head and hesitated, then shook my head no, "Something's watching us." I murmured to him, glancing around the darkening forest as it slowly turned to night. Dean frowned.

"So much for my GPS and my satellite phone," Roy cursed with a look of disgust.

Haley looked to Roy, then Sam, then Dean, and finally on me, "What the hell is going on?"

"It's smart," Sam explained, "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."

Roy scoffed, "You mean _someone_, some _nutjob_ out there just stole all our gear?"

Sam came up to us with an irritated look, "I need to speak with you guys in private." We nodded, heading a little ways away from the rest of the group acting as if we were looking for any signs. I glanced at the group to see that they were looking at us every now and then.

When we were far enough, Sam glanced to the group as well, and nodded, "Good," he said, "Let me see Dad's journal." Opening his jacket, Dean pulled out our father's journal, handing it to Sam. As Sam opened it, he flipped through it with intense concentration until he found a particular page, "All right, check that out." He commented, pointing to a First Nation-styled drawing of a figure. My heart sank, looking up at Sam. _I was right_.

Dean looked at me, then to Sam, "Oh come on," he scoffed out in disbelief, "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or northern Michigan." He said, "I've never even heard of one this far west."

"Think about it, Dean," I began, "The claws, the way it can mimic a human voice," I thought for a moment, giving him a lopsided grin and I smacked his arm like he had done to Sam earlier, "I was right."

With an exasperated sigh, Dean took out his pistol staring at with narrowed eyes, "_Great_," he said dryly, "Well then, this is useless." Sam handed Dean the journal back, as I headed towards the group and stopped.

"We gotta get these people to safety," I said, glancing up amongst the trees and into the shadowed shrugs of the forest, "It's nearby." Sam exchanged a glance with Dean.

"Alright, listen up, it's time to go," Sam announced, "Things have gotten...More complicated."

Haley looked between Sam and Roy in confusion, "_What_?"

Roy laughed at Sam's advice, "Kid, don't worry." He motioned his hand out into the forest, "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it." He said dismissively, patting his gun.

"It's not me, I'm worried about," Sam retorted, trying to make the group believe him, "If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We need to leave, _now_."

Roy took a step towards my brother in a challenging manner, "One," he began, "you're talking nonsense," I furrowed my brows at him, "Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

"Relax," Dean chided sternly, I stood beside him, ready to punch the man in the face.

I took a step towards Sam, scoffing at the ignorant fool, "We never should have let you come out here in the first place, alright?" I spat out receiving a dirty look from Roy, "We're trying to protect you." Roy took a step towards me, _way too close_ for my comfort, trying to make me give up. Sam sidestepped him quickly to get between us.

"_You_ protect _me_?" He laughed from the other side of Sam, "Sweetheart, I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night."My jaw muscle ticked when I clenched my teeth.

"Yeah?" Sam challenged him coolly, "It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you," I paused, a wicked smirk playing at the corner of my mouth that matched Sam's, "and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here." Roy laughed at the both of us, Dean's arm wrapped around my front, pushing me behind him as well.

"You know you're crazy, right?" Roy said, punching Sam in the chest.

"Yeah?" Sam spat out, "You ever hunt a wen—"He was cut off quickly when Dean shoved him rather hard. Sam gave him a hard look, only to receive a matching one from Dean.

"Roy!" Haley shouted.

"Chill out."

Haley stood her ground, "Stop." She said in a chastising manner, "Stop it. Everybody just stop." She motioned her hands down, "Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him." Silence had fallen between everyone.

I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose like I had done all those years ago between the fights with John and Dean, "It's getting late," I spoke up, breaking the silence. Dean nodded in agreement, "This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night."

"We'll never beat it," Sam continued, "not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves."

"How?" Haley asked, looking to us for an answer.

Dean had ordered Haley and Ben to stick close to camp to find firewood while Roy made a campfire. I was crouched nearby, drawing a symbol into the ground with the knife that I had in my boot. Haley looked up from poking at the fire, "One more time, that's-?"

I looked up and over my shoulder, "Anasazi symbols. It's for protection," I explained, putting my attention to the symbol again as I finished it up, "The Wendigo can't cross over them." Roy, who was nearby, laughed. I shook my head at the ignorant fool, "Nobody likes a skeptic, _Roy_." I said dryly, ensuring that the man had heard me.

Dean was sitting next to Sam at the edge of the camp whenever I stood up to double-checked each symbol ensuring that they were correct. I nodded to myself in satisfaction turning towards the two and went over to them.

"Yeah, you're probably right," I hear Dean answer Sam, "Tell you the truth; I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek." I pulled my jacket around my body tighter, rolling my sleeves down to feel warmer. Dean looked up at me when I approached them, looking over to a log no too far from him. Leaning over, he grabbed it, placing it beside him. I smiled softly at the gesture. I was exhausted, my body finally coming to the end of its ability to stay awake. The only thing that had prevented this was the feeling of the Wendigo staring at us from out in the dark forest. Dean extended his hand, taking mine as I sat down on the log.

"Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road," Sam urged, "Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?"

"This is why," Dean said, pulling out the journal from his jacket and held it up, "This book," He began, waving it slightly, "This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us." I met his hazel eyes when he looked from Sam to me, his grip on my hand tightening by just a hair, "I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business."

Sam shook his head wearily, eyes red from exhaustion, "That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just—call us?" He asked, "Why doesn't he—tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?"

Dean bowed his head for a moment, wondering the same thing, "I dunno," he admitted, then looked back up, "But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and I intend to do it.

"Dean...No," Sam stated in a mere whisper, "I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about."

Setting the journal on his lap, Dean rested his arm on his knee, "Okay, alright, Sam," he said to pacify his brother, "we'll find them, I promise."

"Sam, listen to me," I spoke softly to avoid any eavesdropping, "You've gotta prepare yourself," I closed my eyes for a moment to prevent my attention from going elsewhere, "This search could take a while, and all that anger?" I shook my head at my brother, opening my eyes to see him gazing at the ground with a frown, I reached my free hand out for him to take it. Hesitantly, Sam did and I brushed my thumb over his knuckles in a sisterly way, "You can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you." Dean nodded, agreeing with what I had said.

"You gotta have patience, man." Dean finished, concern glistening in his eyes for his brother. It was the same look of concern that I had once faced. Sam looked down, tossing a stick on the ground, then up at us.

"How do you guys do it?" He asked forlornly, "How does Dad do it?"

I gently squeezed his hand, while Dean looked over to Haley and Ben, "Well for one, _them_." He said, nodding in their direction. Sam looked over as well.

"I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell," I shrugged with a playful smirk, "maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable," I said quietly, looking at the two siblings comforting each other.

Dean nudged Sam with a grin, "I'll tell you what else helps," he added causing Sam to look at his brother, "Killing as many evil sons of bitches as I possibly can." Sam smiled at him, my attention suddenly going to an area in the forest.

_Crack…!_ I rose to my feet, handgun in hand upon hearing, _Help me! Please!_ Dean stood up as well, his weapon readied as well, _Help!_

Sam was up shining the flashlight trying to get a visual of the creature. Haley, Ben, and Roy stood up, alarmed. Dean stared into the dark night, "He's trying to draw us out," he informed them, "Just stay cool, stay put."

Roy raised his gun with a smirk, "Inside the magic circle?"

_Help! Help me!_ The voice called out frantically. A few moments later, after no one would budge, I heard the growling. My heart instantly sped up, slowly moving closer to Dean as I looked up into the trees.

Pointing his gun in the direction of the growl, Roy looked at bit stunned, "Okay, that's no grizzly."

Haley hugged her brother tightly, "It's okay," she said in a hushed tone, "You'll be alright, I promise." I saw it. The Wendigo rushed past in a blur to everyone else, but I saw the creature. Haley let out a shriek of fear.

"It's here," I announced when Roy shot into the brush where there were rustling, _twice._ The creature made a god awful wail before silence. Grinning at his victory, Roy dashed into the brush.

"I _hit _it!" He shouted off in the distance.

"Roy, no!" Dean called out to him, "Roy!" Cursing, he turned to us, "Don't move."

With wide eyes, I furrowed my brows knowing what his plans were as he and Sam dashed out to go after Roy, "Sam! Dean! Don't…!" I called after them as Haley picked up a lit stick; fire burning on the end as a weapon. If my nerves weren't shot by now, they sure as hell were in no time. Heart racing, I heard the two boys running in the forest searching for Roy.

"It's over here! It's in the tree!" I heard the idiot shouting out in glee in the distance. Sam and Dean called out for him and then… silence. It was the kind of silence that chilled me to the bone.

* * *

**_The Next Morning_**

After the previous night's events, _no_ sleep came to me or Dean as we sat up the night to watch. _Three nights I've been without sleep,_ I counted off in my head, trying to hide the large yawn, but failed miserably. Sam and Dean came back last night empty handed after finding out that the Wendigo had killed him. Half of me felt sorry for the poor bastard, but half of me was also glad he died. One of the main reasons I liked keeping to myself and Dean, or to Sam. Civilians were touchy about the deep, dark and nasty secrets of what the world had to offer. By the time the sun had risen, everyone was on edge.

Sam was sitting against a hollowed out tree stump, reading Dad's journal subconsciously toying with the lanyard that was attached to it. He seemed extremely defeated over what had happened to Roy, but it was life. It was how we lived.

Dean and I were amongst the tents checking out the bloody claw marks whilst hearing Haley babble on. The second reason why I never fooled with civilians, they rambled on and on and _on_. I gently traced the length of the claw mark with my fingertips, feeling how deep the marks were in a tree, only to bring my hand back feeling the texture of the dried blood within the gashes. I could only imagine what it would've done to a person had the tree been on.

"I don't… I mean, these types of things," Haley continued to prattle on, "they aren't supposed to be real!"

"I wish I could tell you different," Dean said, looking up from observing a slide.

She stared at Dean with a fearful look in her brown eyes, "How do we know it's not out there watching us?"

Blowing out a sigh, Dean gazed over to me, "Sam and I don't, but Abigail does." He explained, catching my attention. I looked over at him upon hearing my name being mentioned.

"What about me?" I stated.

"How do you know if that _thing_'s gonna be back?" Haley asked.

_Oh, that._ I narrowed my eyes at Dean, giving him a look that told him we'd have words about bringing up that I was a freak, "I, uh… it's complicated." I replied stiffly.

"When her Spidey senses are tingling, you'll know right away," Dean answered for her with a casual shrug, "As of right now, we're safe."

Haley looked between Dean and me, "How do you guys know about this stuff?"

I pressed my lips in a thin line, "Kinda runs in the family," I replied for Dean, straightening up upon seeing Sam walking towards us.

"Hey," He said smiling at me, I returned his smile. Haley stood up as he approached us, "So we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

Dean nodded in agreement with his brother, "Well, hell, you know I'm in." He said with a smirk. I didn't have to say much. If there was a hunt involved, I was involved and not far behind. I was needed, or at least, I liked to think of it that way. Sam flipped through the journal to the pages telling about the Wendigo, showing it to Haley and Ben. They looked at it curiously.

"_'Wendigo'_ is a Cree Indian word," Sam began, "It means '_evil that devours_'."

I dusted the dried blood off my fingers against my pant leg, "They're hundreds of years old," I added, "Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter."

Haley stared at me for a moment in shock, "How's a _man_ turn into one of those things?" She asked as we all watched Dean pick different objects up off the ground.

"Well, it's always the same," Dean replied to Haley's question, "During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner Party," Ben said with a nod of understanding, I looked at him with a smirk. _This kid was smart._

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities," Sam explained, "Speed, strength, immortality."

"If you eat enough of it," I cut in, "over years, you become this… less than human thing." I explained in a solemn, yet educated tone much like a professor or something, "You're always hungry."

Haley's eyes went from Sam to Dean, "So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?"

Sam, Dean, and I exchanged a hesitative glance between us, "You're not gonna like it," Dean said, glancing to Sam once more, then back to Haley.

"Tell me," she urged him. I could tell that she was steeling herself for whatever Dean was going to say.

Dean took a deep breath, "More than anything, a Wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake, it keeps its victims alive," He said.

"It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there." I finished, growing irritated at my hair.

Haley's brows furrowed, falling silent as she processed what Dean and I had explained to her, "And then how do we stop it?"

I pulled my hair down from what was left of the bun from yesterday, flipping it over as I wadded it up on top of my head again. I frowned at how gritty it felt. Of course, I felt gritty from yesterday's long assed hike and running like a hooligan after people. Somewhere between the first clearing and searching for that scream before learning it was the Wendigo, I ended up losing my sunglasses. _Poohocky_, I thought grimly.

"Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically-" He held up the can of lighter fluid, the empty beer bottle, and the white cloth he'd picked up with a smirk, "We gotta torch the sucker."

We allowed Haley and Ben to round up what they could as means of weapons. Dean led the way through the woods, Molotov cocktail in hand as Haley followed suit, then Ben, then Sam, and finally me. It was a struggle all on itself to walk any further without falling over in exhaustion. Sam lagged behind to ensure that I was able to keep up.

"You alright?" He asked.

I looked at him with a weary smile, "Ready to get this crap over with," I said stepping over a rock.

"Did you get any sleep at all, Abigail?" My brother asked. I rolled my eyes, _like he has room to talk._

"Yeah," I lied, "A couple of hours."

He arched his brow in a disbelieving manner, "No you didn't."

"Then why'd you ask?" I retorted, getting a tad bit irritated.

"To see if you'd tell the truth," Sam replied, watching Dean and the others ahead of us.

I shrugged at him, "Doesn't matter," I yawned deeply.

He scoffed at me with a smile, "Yeah, it does Abigail," he said, "You haven't been sleeping well."

"Neither have you," I shot back, earning a look of shock from him, "Ask me how I know," I challenged. When he said nothing I smirked, "You hear things being up three days."

"_Three _days?" Sam stated, ignoring the first part, blatantly, "Abigail, how are you even functioning?"

Gazing tiredly to the bloody, claw marked trees, I laughed, "Beats the hell outta me, Sammy," I murmured, "Beats the hell outta me."

He shook his head at me wistfully, "Does Dean know?"

I shook my head, giving him a stern look, "Nope." I said, popping the _p_, "Can't go to sleep if you ain't told anyone about it, besides, you know how I am, Sam." I glanced down at the ground, "I can't sleep without waking up either screaming or crying, that kind of shit gets to you after a while. _Trust me_." I murmured to him, tears welling up in my eyes. I wiped my eyes quickly with the back of my arm, "It eats at you."

Sam looked at me, almost pained to see me in this condition. I knew he wanted to do something to help me, but I also knew that he was grasping the hidden concept of what I was saying as well.

I patted Sam on the arm gently, "Anyways," I said, taking a deep breath, "I'm fine now since I was able to talk about it." I smiled softly at him. I had picked up the pace a little until Sam had pulled me into an awkward walking, one-armed hug, feeling him plant a gentle, brotherly kiss on the top of my head. We had always been able to talk to each other, and I liked that. Sam and I were able to confide things to each other that we couldn't normally tell Dad or Dean.

* * *

**_Later_**

After a while, Sam had taken the task as leader, gazing up at the tree line. I began to feel antsy again. _Crap_. I looked amongst the trees as well before coming to a clearing.

"Dean!" Sam called out, getting his brother's attention.

He caught up to Sam with Molotov cocktail in hand, "What is it?" The trees around us were covered in bloody claw marks with broken branches littering the forest floor everywhere.

"You know, I was thinking," Sam said, "Those claw prints, so clear and distinct." He glanced around us, "They're almost _too_ easy to follow."

I grew uneasy the longer we stood there, "Dean," I began to say in a hushed tone immediately getting both Sam and Dean's attention as I looked around, the color draining from my face when we heard growling. All of us whipped around when the sound of rustling could be heard in a nearby tree.

Standing under one, blood dripped onto Haley's shirt. Taking notice, she looked up as the true look of horror played on her face. She screamed, leaping out of the way as Roy's corpse fell out of the tree and landed where she stood in a bloody and broken heap.

I stood observing the trees for signs of the Wendigo while Dean examined Roy' body and Sam went to Haley.

"You okay?" Sam asked her, "You got it?"

Haley nodded, visibly shaken as Sam helped her on her feet.

Dean's jaw clenched, "His neck's broke."

"Guys." I said upon hearing growling again. Dean jumped to his feet, running his hands down his pant legs, quickly picking up the Molotov cocktail as he urged everyone to start running in the direction that we had originally come from.

"Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!" He yelled as we all took off blindly, stumbling over rocks, branches, and whatnot. Ben fell mid-run as Sam hurried back to help him up as I ran with Dean and Haley.

The three of us stopped short, me nearly falling if it hadn't been for Dean grabbing my arm. Haley gasped out in fright as we stared at the Wendigo. I was frozen in my spot until Dean had pushed me and Haley behind him protectively.

The creature was a tall, lanky thing with a waxy pale-greenish complexion. Its red eyes bored holes into each one of us, as it assessed what to do. Its long arms carried elongated, bony fingers with razor sharp claws that clicked together every time that it would move its fingers. Haley stood beside me, trembling in fear. I had my hand on my pistol, Dean glaring at the creature intensely.

"You, uh, wouldn't happen to have that Molotov would ya?" I asked quietly.

Dean didn't take his eyes of the creature, "I dropped it." He admitted.

"_Lovely_," I said dryly. The Wendigo cocked its head in my direction, sniffing the air, "How 'bout this," I began, noticing it closing in, "I run, you take Haley and find Sam."

"Are you crazy, Abigail?" Dean snapped at me.

Haley looked at me, "You'll die!" She said in a hushed voice.

I smirked, "Eh, I had a good run."

"You're not going anywhere," Dean growled, eyes still on the Wendigo, he pushed us back up. The Wendigo let out a snarl before rushing the three of us. Haley screamed right around the time I blacked out.

_The sun was blocked out of the sky by dark clouds as a fierce wind tore through the remains of a burned structure that I found myself in the middle of. The wind kicked up, burned ashes and embers, stinging my skin as I jerked my body in a different direction. Smoke rolled like a chimney in different areas. Carefully stepping over down support beams, I managed to get a look of familiar mountains surrounding the structure. _

_Frowning, I scrambled my brain trying to remember what was so familiar until I felt something break underneath my boot. Taking a step back, I looked down to see a half burnt family portrait. A painful ache tugged at my heartstrings when I realized that it was my family. Bringing a hand to my mouth, tears fell onto the broken and burnt glass. I bent down to peel the photo from the mess, straightening up to see the scruffy, long hair of my brother Mikey, the neat and smoothed out hair of my sister, Shelby, and the toothy grin of my little sister, Alyssa. Teary eyed, I saw my rough looking father and always beautiful, always smiling mother, seeing a fourteen year old version of myself in the back smiling as well._

_"It's your fault we're dead, Abigail." Shelby's voice resonated from the photo. I furrowed my brows at her image, only to reel back in shock seeing her smirking visage had changed into a severely burnt, angry girl, "You should've died."_

_"Abby, why didn't you save us?" Alyssa's voice asked, feeling a tug on my arm. I spun around to see her staring at me with a charred face, eyes yellowed from the smoke. I gasped out, stepping back._

_"He's watching you, Abigail," Mikey's voice said, "He's going to find you."_

_I looked around wildly as Mikey's burned image appeared beside Alyssa's. Tears fell in streams a choking sob ripping through my throat, "I'm so sorry, Mikey."_

_"Abigail…" I heard my father call out from a distance, "You gotta wake up now." I looked for a way to escape, "Abigail!"_

* * *

**_Mine_**

I jerked awake breathing heavily, pain wracking throughout my body when I tried to sit up feeling a pair of strong hands hold me down.

"Abigail, stay down, you're hurt," Sam said quietly as I looked up at him with wide eyes, then looked around me. Dean had blood on one side of his face, a worried glint staying in his eyes when I looked at him.

"Where am I?" I asked urgently, ignoring Sam's urges to keep me down. A pained groaned managed to escape when I saw that blood and dirt was caked on my shoulder and chest with deep gashes shredding my jacket.

"Hey, hey, hey," Sam continued, "Take it easy."

I threw an exasperated glare at him, "I'm _fine_, Sammy," I reached out for him to grab my hand, "Just…" I blew out a pained sigh, "get me up?" Sam threw Dean a concerned glance as he slowly shook his head at my actions. Grabbing my hand, he helped me up to my feet. Instinctively, my hand when to my shoulder and I closed my eyes as another jab of pain tore through me.

"Tommy…" I heard Haley say suddenly. I looked, seeing the man hanging still as she began crying. She gently touched his cheek, Tommy jerking his head up as a reaction to her touch. In shock, she jumped away from him and screamed, before turning to Sam, "Cut him down!"

When Sam had cut Tommy's ropes, Haley went to him, stroking his face tenderly, "We're gonna get you home." Dean had gotten to his feet, wandering around the mine and spotted the supplies that it had stolen. He walked over to them with a grin and picked up flare guns.

"Check it out," he announced as we turned to him.

"Flare guns," Sam said with a grin.

"Those'll work." I added with a pained grin, laughing a little as Dean laughed at his find, twirling the flare guns like revolvers in a Clint Eastwood movie, "Alright, Clint Eastwood, easy now." I said earning a grin from him.

After Tommy was able to stand, Sam and Dean had taken the lead since they were armed with flare guns, I was behind them with my pistol—like it was going to do anything, while Haley and Ben were supporting Tommy as he limped. We froze upon hearing the Wendigo growling somewhere off in the mine.

"Looks like someone's home for dinner," I muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, Dean and Sam nod in agreement.

Haley looked a little frightened, "We'll never outrun it."

Dean turned towards her, Ben, and Tommy, "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sam and I shared a wary glance, "Yeah… I think so?" Sam said uneasily.

Dean looked to me, placing a hand on my cheek, "Alright, listen to me. Stay with Sam," he said softly, then looked up at the three siblings, "He's gonna get you out of here." I knew better than to argue with him. He was a Winchester, as hard-headed as they come. I merely nodded, casting my eyes to the floor, only to have him tilt my chin up to make me look at him, "I mean it, Abigail. _Stay_ with Sam."

I said nothing, nodding as he gave me a quick kiss, savoring it for a moment as if it were his last chance. He stepped backwards, still gazing into my eyes.

"What are you gonna do?" Haley asked warily when Dean gave her a wink, before he skipped into step yelling.

"Chow time, you freaky bastard!" He yelled out, "Yeah, that's right, bring it on baby! I taste _good_!" The farther he had gone down into the tunnel, the more indistinct his words were. Knowing him, he was saying words that were obscene and probably cursing its existence for harming me and for killing all those campers, plus Tommy's friend. Sam waited until Dean was a safe distance away.

He turned towards us, touching my arm. I nodded, signaling that I was ready to move, "Alright, come on," he said with urgency, "Hurry!" The Collins' followed Sam and I closely as we quickly made our way down the tunnel.

Further down, Sam had told me to watch the siblings as he went up the tunnel, flare gun raised as he scouted for a clearance. Turning his head my way, he waved his arm, motioning that it was alright to come on. With a nod, I motioned my head to them as we followed closely behind him.

Growling came from in front of us as we made it at the end of the tunnel. Sam brought up the flare gun once, putting it down, unsure and turned towards me.

"Abigail, get them outta here," he said. My heart sank a little.

I shook my head, "Sam, no."

He pushed me forward as Haley and Ben helped Tommy in front of us, "Go! Go! Go!"

Ben reached out to grab my arm, "Come on, Abigail!" I hesitated, looking at my brother with worry evident. He gave me a quick hug on my good side and nodded.

_Eye of the Tiger, Abigail_, I chanted in my head as I took a deep breath, taking in the musty old mine smell and caught up to the three siblings, gun ready.

There were more growling ahead, making them pause, before a hiss resonated close by. Sam turned coming face to face with the Wendigo. He fired the flare gun at the creature, blinded by the flare from being acclimated to the darkness of the abandoned mine.

Blinded, I had lost sight of the Wendigo, "Sam!" I called out, looking into the illuminated tunnel, seeing Sam catching up to us.

"Come on," he said, "hurry, hurry, hurry." Sam helped with Tommy as we all began to spring to the end of the tunnel. I looked over my shoulder to see the creature gaining on us with a snarl. Sam stopped, "Get behind me," he instructed, putting his body between the Collins' siblings and the Wendigo. I stood beside him as well, pistol aimed and ready.

The Wendigo had stopped a little ways from us knowing that we were cut off. My breathing was in short bursts, heart hammering in my chest like a John Henry on a railroad. Feeling blood ooze down my side, back, and chest, I realized my jacket had peeled away from the gashes; opening the wound again. As it approached, I murmured a silent prayer, then saw Dean approach from behind it, bringing a finger to his lips.

He raised the flare gun, "Hey!"

Instantly, the Wendigo turned as the flare embedded itself into its stomach. With a screech, the ancient creature had erupted into flames like a match. Dean blew the end of the flare gun like a cowboy, smirking, "Not bad, huh?" He asked, walking up to us. Sam and I grinned at him.

* * *

**_Ranger Station—Night_**

I watched from the back of an ambulance as a paramedic addressed the large gashes. Dean and Sam wanted me to go to the hospital, though I refused both them and the paramedic, telling them to just slap a Band-Aid on them. Sam was standing behind Ben while two officers interviewed him.

"And the bear came back again after you yelled at it?" The officer asked.

Ben nodded, "That's when it circled the campsite," he replied, "I mean, this grizzly must have weighed eight hundred, nine hundred pounds!" The officer glanced at Sam, who nodded in agreement. I smiled softly, wincing when the smell of alcohol stung my nose.

I watched the officer nod, "Alright, we'll go after it first thing."

Dean walked up to me, already been seen to by the paramedics and leaned against the door, "How're you doing?"

I lifted my good shoulder in a half-assed shrug, "Been better," I pursed my lips in thought, "Felt better." He chuckled softly, gazing into my eyes. I melted upon seeing his hazel eyes glimmer in the lights of the ambulance, "Dean, I promise you I'm fine."

A paramedic by the name of Jory snorted behind me, "I still think you need to go to the hospital and get a rabies shot." Dean smirked, nodding in agreement.

"Smart man," Dean said to me with a playful grin.

I gave him a sour look, eyes slanted, "I don't do hospitals-bad things happen there," I quipped, "When I start foaming at the mouth, I'll be sure to give ya a holler." Dean shook his head with another chuckle. I could imagine Jory rolling his eyes at my quip. I knew that Dean was worried about the gashes on my shoulder, but I also knew that I could handle pain pretty well.

With a soft pat on my good shoulder, I looked over to Jory, "You're good to go. If you experience any severe nausea, fever, or headaches, be sure to get to a hospital for medical attention."

Glad to go, I stood beside Dean and turned to peer up at Jory, "Will do." He shook his head at me, muttering that I was insane, earning a grin from me. Dean and I walked over to the other ambulance with Tommy being loaded up.

Haley spotted us, walking over with a smile, stopping a few feet from us, "I don't know how to thank you guys," she began, earning a lascivious smile from Dean. Haley and I rolled our eyes at him.

"Must you cheapen the moment, Dean?" I asked with a smirk.

He grinned, "Must I?" He asked, wrapping an arm around my waist. We laughed a little as a paramedic walked up to Haley.

"You riding with your brother?" He asked.

Haley looked at him, "Yeah." With a nod, the paramedic turned around and headed back to the ambulance. She turned to Ben, "Let's go," she said, watching Sam and Ben nod at each other. I smiled seeing that they were newfound friends. Dean kissed me gently on the cheek before he walked over to Sam, talking about something.

Haley turned towards me with a curious grin, "You and your brother seem really close. It's actually a little weird."

I tilted my head, "Yeah… that…" I began with a laugh, "We're not really related. I lost my family in a fire and his dad took me in."

Haley nodded understandingly, "Ah, so they're family friends?"

"Ah… well, yes and no." I said sheepishly, "They're more like brothers to me… though, Dean and I…" I trailed off.

Haley smirked, "You're together… that's good, cause if you were actually related"

"_That _would've been a little weird," I finished for her as she nodded, "You don't realize how many people think the same thing."

She laughed, "Yeah, cause I have two brothers of my own, but _geez_… it would've been awkward. I mean, the way Dean looks at you?" Haley smiled, wrapping her arm around mine in a sisterly way, "It makes people wonder."

I frowned slightly, confused, "What do you mean, the way he looks at me?"

Haley looked from me to Dean, "You really don't know do you?" I shook my head with raised eyebrows, "He hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you all showed up yesterday. The way Roy looked at you, I thought Dean was going to tear his head off," I blinked in surprise, "Dean looks at you like you're his lifeline. Like… you are the moon, sun, and stars… even the universe." She added. I tried hard not to smile, but failed, "I can't believe you haven't noticed it."

"Ah, I don't really take the time to look," I replied, "I just sort of _do_… What you said about him looking at me as if I were his lifeline…" I laughed at myself, "This is so corny, but… I feel the same way about him. I was in a rough patch after my parents died… and," I sighed, "I almost died… and Dean was the only one around at the time when I had done it, you should've heard the ass-chewing I received in the hospital from him. Turned me around quick." Haley smiled softly at me, and I nudged her, "I think he's a keeper."

She laughed, nodding, "Yeah," she looked at the ambulance, "I gotta go, but I hope you guys find your dad."

I nodded, "Same here. Good luck with everything. Need anything, call us. We'll be back in a heartbeat."

She smiled, "I'll remember that."

I nodded again, "Take care." Haley turned, climbing into the ambulance with Ben. The paramedic closed the back door as I made my way to the Impala where Dean and Sam were sitting on the hood watching me.

"What?" I asked.

Sam shook his head, "Nothing." My brows rose at him, shaking my head, "You okay? No headaches, fever?"

"No need to foam at the mouth?" Dean added with a smirk. I frowned at them.

"God, will you shut up? I swear this is Chicago all over again." I grumbled as they chuckled. I leaned on the quarter panel, watching the lights flash on the ambulances as they pulled out; sirens blaring, "I hate camping," I said all of sudden.

"Me too," Sam replied.

"Me _three_," Dean stated. We sat in silence for a moment, "You know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I know." He smirked, "But in the meantime? I'm driving."

Dean glanced at me, contemplating what Sam said. I shrugged at him, _his decision._

"Alright." He replied, tossing the Impala's keys to him, "I need to spend some time with my girl, even if she has rabies and all."

I gave him a mild glare, "I _so_ don't like you two right now."

Sam grinned as we all stood up. Dean held open the back passenger door as I slid into the middle seat before he sat down, closing the door around the same time Sam did. Dean grinned from the backseat, allowing me to situate my hurt shoulder into a position that was deemed somewhat comfortable.

Starting the engine, Sam pulled out, adjusting the rearview mirror as we left the forest and onto the open road, "Just so you guys know," I said, "If I _do_ start foaming at the mouth, I'll be sure to bite you two first, and bring you down with me." Dean looked to Sam as he glanced back at him with furrowed brows, then at me as I smirked.


	6. Dead in the Water

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the ****_Supernatural_**** franchise, except for Abigail and whatever non-canon plots, schemes, or scenes! (;**_

* * *

_Hold me now I need to feel relief_

_Like I never wanted anything_

_I suppose I'll let this go and find a reason I'll hold on to_

_I'm so ashamed of defeat_

_And I'm out of reason to believe in me_

_I'm out of trying to get by_

_I'm so afraid of the gift you give me_

_I don't belong here and I'm not well_

_I'm so ashamed of the lie I'm living_

_Right on the wrong side of it all_

* * *

_The Lynnwood Inn_

Sitting at a joining diner at the motel that we had stayed at, I found myself staring out of the large window with my chin resting on my wrist; watching an eighteen wheeler pass by. Subconsciously, I stirred around my mashed potatoes with my free hand as if I didn't want them while Dean circled an obituary in a local newspaper, chewing on the end of a pen until the waitress named Wendy came up to the table with a sweet smile.

"Can I get you anything else?" She asked running a quick look over Dean as he peered up, smiling salaciously around the pen he was chewing on. I broke away from my thoughts seeing Sam walking back to the table and sat down. I nodded at him in acknowledgment of his presence, he returned the favor, not looking at the waitress.

"Just the check, please," Sam answered curtly, earning a frown from Dean.

Her smile dropped, "Okay." She replied, throwing Sam, what I thought was a glare as she turned giving Dean another look over, and tossed him an appreciative wink. He smirked, watching her leave taking note of the short shorts that she had on before dropping his head at Sam.

I rolled my eyes at the man, _some things never change_. But I knew within the depths of my mind that Dean was ever faithful to me.

"You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while," He stated while he straightened up, placing an arm behind my shoulder, smiling, "Last night, _was fun_," I smirked, watching Sam stare at Dean wordlessly and without a doubt, unimpressed at his brother. To say the least, I'm sure that he was unimpressed at mine and Dean's late-night rendezvous in the bathroom at three o'clock this morning.

Dean's smile faded once he realized that Sam didn't find him amusing, he cleared his throat, "Here, take a look at this," he said, turning the folded up newspaper towards Sam, "I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin." Sam peered down at the obituary, "Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water," Dean shook his head, "_nothing_. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago."

I looked at Dean, confused, "A funeral?"

He nodded, "Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever."

Sam scoffed, obviously irritated, "Closure? What _closure_?" He snapped, "People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them." Dean took his arm from around my shoulders and folded his hands on the table, leaning in.

"Something you want to say to me?" Dean queried.

"The trail for Dad," Sam deadpanned, "It's getting colder every day."

"Exactly," He replied, "So what are we supposed to do?"

Sam looked defeated, "I don't know," He said, "Something. _Anything_. It just seems like you and Abigail—"

I scoffed at Sam, slanting my eyes towards him, sort of thankful that Dean got to him before I could, "You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think Abigail and I wanna find Dad as much as you do?"

"Yeah, I know you do, it's just—" Sam tried to say. I shook my head at him.

"Abigail and I were the ones that's been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies," Dean glared at him, those hazel eyes of his a swirling mass of rising anger. I placed a gentle hand on his thigh, giving him a squeeze to try to get him to calm down.

I looked at Sam, "We will find Dad," I reassured, "but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?" Sam nodded at me, "So quit being so moody." He rolled his eyes as the attractive waitress passed by, capturing Dean's attention.

"Alright," he sighed out, "Lake Manitoc."

I smacked Dean's shoulder playfully to get his attention, "Hey!"

Dean looked back at me with a bewildered look, "What?"

Sam rolled his eyes once more, "How far?"

* * *

_Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin_

On the way to Wisconsin, I sat up front with Dean, my hand on his thigh while his arm was around my shoulder, running his fingers through my hair. Being lulled by his slow touch, I watched tiredly as we passed a clothesline with white sheets flapping in the wind. I fell asleep shortly after without a nightmare, waking up to see that we were crossing a bridge, passing some people fishing. Dean noticed me awake and smiled.

"Hey you," Dean murmured into my ear.

I hummed a smile, peering up at him, "Hey you," I said softly.

"You sleep alright?" He asked me as I nodded, nuzzling his neck with my nose. He tilted his head to where his neck was more exposed, allowing me to plant light kisses onto his skin, "I take that as a 'yes'." He replied huskily. I smiled into my kisses.

"Sam asleep?" I asked.

Dean looked up into the rearview mirror, "Yup."

I nodded, sitting up with a stretch, feeling the roof of the Impala with my fingertips. Dean glanced at me, eyeing the baggy long-sleeved gray shirt that I had on with a smirk, I noticed him looking and smiled.

"You like anything you see?" I asked, relaxing back into the spot that I had, placing my hand back onto his thigh.

"You know I do, cherry-pie." He said with a grin, taking notice to the sign reading '_Welcome to Lake Manitoc, WI.'_ I noticed his smile fading a little.

"What is it?" I asked softly.

His eyes met mine for a moment, only to shake his head and gave me smile, "Nothing, babe. It's nothing."

I twisted in the seat, resting my elbow against the back of it to cradle the side of my head, "Nothin' is apparently somethin'." I stated quietly, glancing out of the window to see the glimmering surface of Lake Manitoc. It dawned on me that he was remembering the day I had drowned. I reached out to touch his arm, "It was a long time ago."

Dean nodded in silence, staring forward. I knew deep down, Dean was still kicking himself. It was like him to beat himself up over things in the past, "I could've done something about it," he finally said.

"It was going to happen sooner or later," I said.

He glanced over to me, "No. Don't you dare say that." Dean shook his head, "Not if I had anything to do with it." His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, "I can't lose you again, Abs."

I had fallen silent at his words. They had a desperate undertone in them and I knew he had meant every word.

* * *

_Twelve Years Ago_

_July 16th, 1993_

_East Tawas, Michigan_

_Today had marked one year since my family died, I had acclimated to life with the Winchesters quickly, though the thought of having an 'older' brother sometimes made me forget that I wasn't in charge anymore. Being the second oldest, I still had responsibilities to fulfill just the same as Dean—watch Sam, don't let him get hurt or lost, don't get hurt yourself, and always have each other's backs. My first year with John, Dean, and Sam was rough…the first four months I could barely sleep due to having vivid night terrors. I would wake up either screaming or crying, which concerned John. The nights I would lie in bed, Sam nestled beside me while Dean was in the other bed asleep, I would just watch John sitting at a desk with a lamp on; writing in his journal, a bottle of beer sitting beside him as he peered through his reading glasses._

_I barely spoke to anyone, not wanting to recount what had happened that fateful night, or wanting to speak of my night terrors. Some nights it would get so bad to the point where I would wake up to Dean or John holding me down._

_It got to the point where I felt like I was a burden to them all. I felt like I was just getting in their way, winding up getting it in my head that I was just useless. Like my father had told me a month before he died, death was only a part of the world we lived in. It was always there, watching and waiting. It seemed to me that what he told me that day was forewarning of what was to be expected._

_Tawas Bay glimmered like a thousand diamonds in the July sun. I watched numbly as pricey sailboats skimmed the water's surface for the unaware civilian's recreational enjoyment. John had found in the newspaper that several deaths have happened in Tawas Bay over the course of a month. Upon further investigation, he found that these deaths had been stretched out over the course of thirty years._

_John's suspicions were dead-set on an angry spirit. "Abigail," John spoke suddenly, jerking me out of my thoughts._

_I jumped slightly, peering up at the hulking figure of John Winchester driving, "Yes, Mr. Winchester?" I glanced quickly to see a sixteen year old Dean up front shaking his head at me in an irritated manner, then to the eleven year old Sam, who was frowning._

_"Did you hear anything I just said?" He stated._

_I bowed my head, embarrassed. _There you go again, stupid_, I thought bitterly. I heard him sigh, making me look back up, "Pay attention this time," John responded curtly, "When we get to town, Dean and I are going to ask around, and see if we can get an idea of what has been happening with the recent drownings. I need you to keep an eye on Sam. Also, see if you two can find anything out."_

_I nodded slowly, "Yes, sir."_

_John nodded, shortly falling silent, "Abigail, I know this day is going to be hard on you. But I need you to get your head straight and stay alert, I don't want to risk any more than what we have."_

_I stared quietly at John, knowing that he knew how I felt. Slowly, I nodded my head, "I will."_

_John nodded in approval, "Good."_

_Staring out the window again, I saw a man standing on the side of the road wearing a black button-up shirt, army green jacket, and dark blue jeans. He had wavy, light brown hair and big, childish hazel eyes while he held a lollipop in between his fingers. What sparked my curiosity, was that this complete stranger stared directly at me as we passed; a coy, brotherly smile curled his lips. I blinked at him, careening my neck as the Impala passed by, and I shit you not, the guy had wings. _

_I did a double take, only to see that he was no longer there._

_Gaping, I felt Sam touch my leg and I looked back to him, bewildered. He had a concerned look on his face, "You okay?" he asked me._

_Looking back where I saw the man, then back to Sam, I nodded, "Yeah. I-I just saw a deer."_

_Sam gasped with delight, twisting in his seat to look out for it, "Really? Where?"_

_I tucked my hair behind my ears, flustered. "It-it must've left."_

* * *

_Present Day_

_Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin_

_Carlton House_

Stepping out of the Impala, Dean, Sam, and I approached the house of William Carlton. I admired the view of the lake that was down a ways from where we stood. Wisconsin was a beautiful state. Sam and I stayed behind Dean as he stepped onto the foyer, knocking on the door.

A moment passed by, the sound of footsteps approaching the door resonated from inside as a boy answered the door.

"Will Carlton?" Dean asked.

The boy looked at Dean, then to Sam and me suspiciously, "Yeah, that's right."

"I'm Agent Ford," he introduced, "This is Agent Hamill, and Agent Sturm," he continued, motioning to Sam and I, "We're with the US Wildlife Service," he added with a smile, holding up his ID.

* * *

_Lake_

Will had taken us out to the docks where his father, Bill Carlton sat on a bench, looking out at the lake—grief stricken. Frowning, I felt as if there was more to the story behind him. Not wanting to push the boy any further, I kept quiet, fixated on the lake.

_Come play with me_, a small childlike voice whispered. I blinked in confusion, furrowing my brows out at the open water.

_What the-? _I thought to myself.

"She was about a hundred yards out," I heard Will answer, bringing me out of my thoughts, I looked over at him, "That's where she got dragged down." He said, pointing out at the open water where I had been looking.

Dean glanced out where he had pointed, "And you're sure she didn't just drown?"

Will nodded, very much sure of what he said, "Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as in her own bathtub."

I pursed my lips looking at Will, "_So,_ no splashing? No signs of distress?"

Will shook his head, "No, that's what I'm telling you."

"Did you see any shadows in the water?" Sam asked, "Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?"

Will shook his head once more, "No. Again, she was really far out there."

Dean looked at the boy, "You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?"

Will stared at Dean confused, "_No_, never." He replied, "Why? Why, what do you think's out there?" He asked, looking out at the water.

Dean looked at the distraught boy, "We'll let you know as soon as we do," he said finishing the interview and headed to the car. Sam and I hung back, looking over to Bill Carlton.

"What about your father?" Sam asked, as Dean stopped and turned back, watching us.

"Can we talk to him?" I asked politely. Will turned to look at his father for a moment, hesitant. He turned back towards Sam and me.

"Look, if you don't mind, I mean...He didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot."

Sam and I nodded in understanding.

"We understand," I replied, turning to Dean as we headed back to the car.

* * *

_Police Department_

Inside the Department, we ran into Sheriff Devins himself. _Gotta love small towns_, I mused with a frown. Dean and Sam were explaining that we were looking into the Carlton drowning. From the confused look from the Sheriff, he didn't quite understand why we were there.

"Now, I'm sorry," the Sheriff began, confused, "but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?" He asked, leading us into his office.

"You sure it's accidental?" Sam inquired, "Will Carlton saw something grab his sister."

Sheriff Devins turned his head at Sam, "Like what?" Walking into his office, the Sheriff motioned to three empty chairs, "Here, sit, please," he offered before sitting at his desk, "There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person," He chuckled, "unless it was the Loch Ness Monster."

"Yeah," Dean laughs, "_Right_."I glanced at Dean warily.

Sheriff Devins sighed, "Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still. We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

I crossed my legs, looking attentive, "That's weird, though, I mean, that's-," I puffed out my bottom lip in thought, "-that's the third missing body this year."

Sheriff Devins sighed, nodding, "I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about."

Dean nodded, "I know."

"Anyway..." He sighed, "All this...It won't be a problem much longer."

Dean frowned, "What do you mean?"

The sheriff blinked, "Well, the dam, of course." He responded, staring at us like we should've known better.

Realizing he messed up, Dean nodded, "Of course, the dam. It's, uh, it sprung a leak."

The sheriff nodded to his surprise, "It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either," He looked at us with assessing eyes, "But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that."

We all nodded in unison.

"Exactly," Dean said enthusiastically, nodding. A light knock on the door alerted us as a woman peeked in.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" She asked with a tentative smile. Sam and Dean stood up, I followed example. She was a pretty woman; all legs and a brunette, "I can come back later."

"Agents, this is my daughter." Devins introduced.

Dean smiled, extending his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean."

Devins' daughter smiled, taking his hand, "Andrea Barr. Hi."

"This is Abigail," Dean continued to introduce, Andrea smiled at me. I returned the favor, shaking her hand, "And this is Sam." Sam nodded his head in acknowledgement."

"They're from the Wildlife Service. About the lake." Devins told his daughter.

Andrea nodded, "Oh," she replied quietly as a young boy walked in, looking sullen and quiet.

Dean noticed the boy and smiled, looking down at him, "Oh, hey there. What's your name?"

The boy looked at Dean, turning and walked back out into the main part of the office, Andrea threw us an apologetic smile before she followed him.

"His name is Lucas," Sheriff Devins spoke. The four of us watched Andrea and Lucas in the main room as she handed him a box of crayons.

I looked to the Sheriff, "Is he okay?"

Devins sighed, "My grandson's been through a lot. We all have." He stood from his desk, crossing over to his office door. I understood that it was the end of our conversation, "Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know." We nodded, leaving the office with him.

"Thanks," Dean replied, then paused, "You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?"

Andrea smiled, "Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner," she said, motioning outside, "It's about two blocks south."

Dean smiled, "Two—," he feigned confusion, "would you mind showing us?"

Andrea snickered at him, "You want me to walk you two blocks?"

"Not if it's any trouble," Dean continued, throwing her a sultry pout that usually worked on just about any woman within speaking distance. Andrea laughed while I rolled my eyes at his flirty antics.

"I'm headed that way anyway," she replied, then turned towards her father, "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three." Turning to her son, she kneeled down with a smile, "We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?" She kissed her son on the head, straightening up. I waved to them, earning a nod from Sheriff Devins.

"Thanks again," Sam told Andrea as we walked out of the Police Department.

* * *

_Street_

Sam and I trailed behind Dean and Andrea along the street. Instantly, I knew what Dean was trying to do. I kept quiet knowing that it would jeopardize our job as _Wildlife Agents_. Sam and I watched in amusement as Dean tried in vain to _woo_ the woman.

"So," Dean began slowly, "cute kid."

Andrea glanced at him and smiled, "Thanks."

We all crossed the street in unison, I looked over to Sam.

"Ya think we couldn't look anymore dumb?" I asked in a hushed tone, hearing Sam chuckle at me.

"I'm sure if there was, Dean would've already found it," Sam replied, his lips turning up into a brief smile.

"Kids are the best, huh?" Dean continued in his attempt in his advances towards Andrea. Sam and I sniggered from behind them when Andrea merely glanced his way, ignoring him. Dean must've heard our snickering because he looked over his shoulder with an irritated look. Ahead, I looked up, seeing the front of a building that clearly said _Lakefront Motel_, I nudged Sam motioning my head towards it. He nodded with a smirk.

"There it is," Andrea said with a pleasant smile, "Like I said, two blocks."

Sam and I smiled sweetly to her, "Thanks."

She nodded our way, turning her attention to Dean, "Must be hard, with your sense of direction," Andrea began, "Never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line." I grinned, having to turn around to prevent Dean from seeing that I was laughing. Sam looked down at his feet, shoulders moving in his attempt to conceal his amusement as Andrea left before saying, "Enjoy your stay!"

Dean stood in his place, stunned at what Andrea had told him. I turned, still grinning widely at him.

"_Kids are the best_?" Sam recited with a laugh, "You don't even like kids."

Dean turned to us with a sour look, "I love kids," he scoffed out in disbelief.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Name three children that ya even know." I challenged my boyfriend, folding my arms with an amused look clearly on my face. Dean looked around in deep thought, shrugging when he came up with nothing. Sam and I shook our heads, snickering as we waved our hands at him before walking into the motel.

Dean stood still, scratching his head, "I'm thinking!" He called out to us.

* * *

_Motel_

I sat cross-legged in a pair of baggy sweatpants, wrapped in one of Dean's over shirts, watching Sam work on his laptop and Dean sort through his clothes. Slumping over, I rested my chin on my fist and yawned.

"So there's the three drowning victims this year." Sam stated.

"Any before that?" Dean asked, pulling up a pair of my underwear and grinned cheekily at me. I rolled my eyes at him, swatting his leg playfully as he put them back into the bag, scanning for his clothes.

"Uh, yeah," Sam replied, looking at the web page, clicking the built-in mouse on his laptop, "Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years, those bodies were never recovered either."

"If there's somethin' out there," I began, raising up off my fist, "it's pickin' up its pace."

Finding a shirt, Dean tossed it in my lap, "So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?"

Sam looked up at us ruefully, "This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me." Dean turned, walking over to Sam, reading over his shoulder.

"Why?" I asked.

"Loch Ness," Sam started off, "uh, Lake Champlin, there are literally _hundreds_ of eyewitness accounts, but here," he shook his head, "almost nothing." He looked through another home page, "Whatever is out there, no one's living to talk about it."

Sam scrolled down the website, searching for something until Dean stopped him, pointing at the screen. Interested, I stood up and walked to the other side of Sam, peering over his shoulders now. Sam scrunched his face up at me, obviously not liking the attention.

"Wait, Barr," Dean spoke, "Christopher Barr… Where have I heard that name before?"

I scanned the page with Sam, "Christopher Barr, the victim in May," Sam read aloud, clicking a link that took us to a new page. An article popped up saying, _Local Man in Tragic Accident_. A photograph loaded as well, showing a police officer with Andrea's son Lucas.

A light bulb clicked in my head, "Oh. Christopher Barr was Andrea's husband, Lucas's father." I said, rather excitedly, I leaned closer to read the article better, "Apparently he took Lucas out swimming."

Sam shook his head, finishing the article for me, "Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued." The mouse wandered to the photograph, clicking on it, and scratched his head, "Maybe we have an eye witness after all."

Dean shook his head, "No wonder that kid was so freaked out."

I frowned, "Watchin' one of your parents die isn't somethin' ya just get over," I said quietly, taking a step backwards and went to mine and Dean's bed. Sitting down, I looked up at my two brothers trying to mask the fact of how that little boy was feeling. I knew exactly how Lucas felt. Dean frowned, realizing what I said, and looked down at the ground. Sam looked at me with sympathy, unsure what to say or how to approach it. I blew out a sigh, running a now shaking hand through my hair.

"I'm… I'm gonna go, uh, put my clothes back on," I muttered, grabbing my jeans, shirt and jacket, brushing past Dean on my way to the bathroom. Closing the door, I closed my eyes tightly, sinking to the ground. My thoughts were thrown back into those horrible memories hearing my brother and sisters screaming for me. I opened my eyes, tears filling up and running down my face.

I wiped my hand down to clear myself of tears, hearing someone approach the bathroom door and knocked.

"Abs," It was Dean, "You alright?"

"Yeah," I replied, pulling my shirt over my head, "I'm alright."

Dean was quiet, "You want to let me in?"

I looked at the door, stepping out of my sweatpants, "I, uh… I'm gettin' my jeans on." Stepping into them quickly, I buttoned them, wiping away more rouge tears in the process and straightened up. I opened the door, seeing him leaned up against the wall next to the door, jumping slightly. He turned around, giving me a once over.

"You were crying, weren't you?" He stated.

I glanced down at the floor, "Yeah," I whispered as a new wave of tears welled up in my eyes.

Dean sighed, pulling me into an embrace, "You can't blame yourself for what happened, Abs."

I blinked, pressing my head into his shoulder, "I know…" I inhaled sharply, feeling my body shudder in the process. Dean rested his head against mine, wrapping his arms tighter around me, "I just… I just can't help but think…" I shook my head, lip trembling, "It's my fault, Dean."

"_No_," he replied with a stern tone in his voice, "None of it's your fault. What happened," He pulled away from me, placing his hands on my face, his eyes softened upon seeing the tears rolling down my cheeks, "That was just a freak accident. You had no clue." Using his thumbs, Dean wiped them away, scanning my eyes. I saw the concern in them, "You did what you could, Abigail. Your parents would be damn proud of you for ganking the black eyed freak, I know for a fact your father was."

I smiled weakly at him, blinking away more tears, "Really?"

Dean smiled back at me with confidence, "Yeah." He looked at me, ensuring that I had gotten over my crying spell, then tipped his head down to kiss me delicately on the lips, feeling his tongue run across mine. Opening my mouth, I heard him moan softly when our tongues entwined with each other.

A few short moments passed by as we broke our kiss, staring at each other quietly. Dean's thumb rubbed my cheek before placing his hands onto my shoulders, "You okay?"

I nodded, feeling better than what I was, "Yeah."

He smirked, "Good, cause I got Sammy running around looking for some more answers. Figured we'd run by the park and see if we could talk to Lucas."

* * *

_Twelve Years Ago_

_East Tawas, Michigan_

_Sam and I sat on a bench at a nearby restaurant that faced out on the bay. It had a fishy smell, like all lakes or waterfronts had. Sam scrunched his nose at the smell._

_"This place stinks." He stated._

_I looked at him with a smile, "Places like this always smells like fish, Sammy." Digging into a bag, I pulled out two bags of chips, handing one to Sam, "Here, it's the only thing I could find that wasn't an arm or a leg."_

_Sam looked at it with an arched brow, "You didn't pay for this?"_

_I shrugged, opening my bag of chips, "It wasn't for free, I can tell you that."_

_He looked at his unopened bag of chips, "So you stole it."_

_"More or less, borrowed without permission." I replied with a wry smirk, popping a chip into my mouth and chewed. I nudged him, "Eat."_

_He shook his head, "Nah, I'm…not hungry." I shrugged at him, taking the bag of chip and put it back into the bag._

_"Suit yourself." I said, flippantly zipping the bag up before seeing John and Dean approaching us. We stood up to meet them halfway._

_"Did you find out anything?" John asked, expectant._

_I nodded, "Yeah, a few people knew of the last drowning victim, Jacob Owens. Really sweet guy, athletic. Had a lot of money apparently because they found his body next to his boat at the docks." I explained, motioning my head to the long dock with several expensive yachts and boats tethered to it. John and Dean glanced to it, and nodded._

_"Good work, Abigail." John said, nodding his head with approval. Dean, who was beside him, nodded in agreement, however, he looked distracted by a group of girls who were off to the side, giggling at him. Dean threw them his infamous lop-sided smiles and winked, which troubled me somehow. I frowned, bowing my head slight to gaze at my feet. Dean and I didn't exactly see eye to eye, nor did we get along. I think he was still leery of my being there and having those 'freak' nightmares as he likes to call them. So, I guess I was a freak in his book, which added to the long list of insults that I usually received when John and Sam had their backs turned._

* * *

_Present Day_

_Park_

Arriving at the park, children laughed and played, running around the playground with wide grins. I smiled at a little girl, who waved at me enthusiastically, waggling my fingers in a half-assed wave. Dean walked alongside me, seeing me do so and smiled, though caught sight of Andrea sitting at a bench. He nudged me in the side.

"There," Dean said, after he caught my attention. I looked over to see her as well and nodded. Approaching her, Dean and I made a considerable distance between us in order to look more professional.

"Can we join you?" I asked, catching Andrea's attention, looking up at us.

"I'm here with my son," she stated. Dean looked over to where Lucas was at.

He nodded, "Oh, mind if I say hi?" He asked, taking no time to wait for an answer. Andrea turned to me.

"Tell your friend this whole Jerry Maguire thing is not gonna work for me," she said.

I sighed, sitting next to her, watching Dean approach the lonely boy, "I don't think that's what this is about."

* * *

_Dean's Point of View_

I approached Lucas with a smile, "How's it going?" I asked, kneeling down beside the bench that Lucas was at, coloring. He didn't bother looking up at me as I looked down seeing toy soldiers. I grinned, picking one up, "Oh, I used to love these things." I imitated the sound of guns and explosions, tossing the toy down, and glanced up to see if Lucas would bite. He wouldn't so much as move a muscle, I nodded, seeing him coloring, "So crayons is more your thing?" I grinned, "That's cool. Chicks dig artists."

I couldn't help but notice the large pile of drawings lying on the table. Leaning over, I took a peek at them, seeing one of a big black swirl, and the one underneath it, a red bicycle. Peering over my shoulder, I could see Abigail and Andrea conversing, though Andrea looked my way every now and then like a freaking hawk. Turning my attention back to Lucas, I picked up a crayon myself while picking up another pad of paper, "I'm not so bad myself," I told Lucas with confidence as I sat beside him on the bench and began scribbling, "You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk."

I looked over to him for a moment, "I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something." I looked over to Abigail, "That babe over there with your mom? I _know_ she knows how you feel," I continued to draw on the paper, "Something really bad happened to her family as well," Lucas stayed quiet, "Anyway," I said slowly, getting off topic, "Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...Or believe you. I want you to know that I will. That my friend over there will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake." When Lucas still wouldn't talk, I blew out a sigh and nodded, "Okay, no problem. This is for you." I held out the picture I drew.

"It's my family," I stated, pointing out to each one, "That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother, and that's me." I glanced up at him with a soft smile, then pointed to another stick figure beside me, "And that's my girlfriend," I looked up again at Abigail, seeing her laugh, "The babe over there with your mom, that's her. Just, don't say anything to your mom, alright? That'd get me in trouble." I winked at him, knowing he wasn't going to say anything. Straightening up, I laughed at myself, "Alright, so I'm a sucky artist." I stood up, "I'll see you around, Lucas."

I headed back to Abigail, hearing Andrea tell her that Lucas hasn't spoken a word to anyone, not even her. I nodded, "Yeah, we heard." I said, announcing my presence, "Sorry." Andrea nodded sullenly.

"What are the doctors saying?" Abigail asked her, placing a soothing hand on Andrea's.

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress," Andrea replied, I noticed Abigail's eyes cloud over in understanding.

"That can't be easy," she spoke softly, "For either of you."

Andrea nodded, "We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...When I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..." She shook her head with a pained look.

"Kids are strong," I assured her, "You'd be surprised what they can deal with."

Abigail glanced up at me with a soft smile as Andrea continued, "You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth." Andrea laughed softly at the memory, twisting her hands, "Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—," Lucas approached us, carrying a picture. Andrea smiled at her son, "Hey sweetie."

Lucas looked from his mom to me, holding out a picture. I smiled, nodding to him, taking the image from him, "Thanks. Thanks, Lucas." Looking down at it seeing that it was a house, and it was vaguely familiar. _Where did I see this place?_

Without another word, Lucas headed back to the bench, therefore ending our conversation with Andrea.

* * *

_Motel_

_Abigail's Point of View_

Sitting on one side of the bed, I leaned back with an audible sigh escaping from my lips. My lower back had begun hurting, which brought concern from Dean, who was sitting on the other side, close to my head. He had his hand gently on my face, staring at down at me, only to turn around when Sam had walked in.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie," Sam announced. I rolled onto my stomach to look at him.

I snapped my fingers, frowning, "Damn, I wanted Nessie to be real."

Dean shook his head at me, chuckling, and turned towards Sam, "What do you mean?" He asked Sam.

His brother let out a sigh, sitting across from us on his bed, "I just drove past the Carlton house," Sam replied, "There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

Dean furrowed his brows, "He drowned?"

Sam nodded, "Yep. In the sink."

I scrunched my face at Sam, "What the hell?"

"So, you're right, this isn't a creature," Dean murmured, "We're dealing with something else."

"Yeah, but what?"

Dean shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted, "Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon?" With a shake of his head, I could see the wheels turning in his mind, "I mean, something that controls water… water that comes from the same source."

"The lake?" I asked, seeing the light bulb go off.

He turned to me, nodding, "Yeah."

"_Which _would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining." Sam concluded, "It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time."

"And if it can get through the pipes…"

"It can get to anyone," I murmured, looking up at the two brothers, "Almost anywhere." Something had dawned on Dean causing him to stand up.

"This is gonna happen again soon," Dean said, crossing the room to a chair, sitting down. I cocked my head, resting my chin on my knuckles.

"And we do know one other thing for sure," Sam said, looking between us, "We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton."

I nodded, "Yeah, it took both his kids."

"And I've been asking around," Sam added, "Lucas's dad, _Chris_—Bill Carlton's godson."

Dean smirked, "Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."

* * *

_Twelve Years Ago_

_East Tawas, Michigan_

_Three Days Later_

_July 19th, 1993_

_"It was awful," an elderly woman, adorning several thousand dollars' worth of gold jewelry, spoke, "Jake was like any other well-respected man. So youthful."_

_John cleared his throat, "Yes, well. Is there anything we should know about? Did he have any issues with anyone? Any spurred ex-wives, girlfriends?"_

_The woman gasped, appalled at the question, "What? Enemies? Why mercy no!" She replied, hushed, "Jake was part of the community, he was well loved." The woman gave John a nasty onceover, "Now, if you excuse me, detective, I have work to do."_

_John nodded, "Of course, of course. Have a good day." His soft hazel eyes gazed over to me and motioned his head to follow him. I nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair as I quietly followed close behind. As we walked out of the Yacht Club's doors, John peered into his notepad to each individual that had been in contact with Jacob Owens. His parents were deceased, so they were out of question. A Mrs. Lugosi—yes, as in Bela Lugosi, best actor you can ask for, in my opinion—who was very unpleasant about answering John's questions, and Owens' former-fiancée, a Katarina Makarov_, _seemed flat out sketchy and unbelievable. I had a hunch that those two were hiding something. But the question was, what? _

_"Abigail, what's your take on these people?" John asked, peering up at me from over his reading glasses. _

_I gulped, blinking from bewilderment. "I, uh, I-I think that Lugosi was flat out unpleasant and Katarina seemed sketchy. Like they were both hiding something."_

_"So you can agree that their stories don't make sense," He murmured, an approving twinkle resided in his eyes as he looked back down to the notes, and nodded, "Alright." He then sighed. I looked at him warily. I didn't like it when he sighed after a discovery, "I need you and Dean to stay behind tonight. I think we're onto something. I'm just not sure what we're looking for."_

_Upon the look I received from John, I bit back the groan of protest, "Yes, sir."_

_John looked me over a moment, resting a gentle hand on my shoulder, "I know you and Dean don't exactly see eye-to-eye, Abigail." I forced myself to not roll my eyes, he didn't know. "But he's doing the best he can. It's hard on us, but it has to be hard on you." My eyes went to the concrete to avoid his gaze, only to be surprised when John pulled me into a single-armed embrace, "Everything's gonna be fine, kiddo. It just takes time."_

_"Not soon enough," I mumbled._

_"No," He agreed, "Not soon enough."_

_Back at the motel room, Dean groaned out in protest, flinging his arms out to the side where they slapped his thighs, "Dad, come on. You need me to come with you! Sam's fine with Abigail!"_

_"I said no, and that's final, Dean." John replied curtly to his son. Dean clenched his jaw, staring at his father with defiance, yet didn't say a word to back up his expression. He knew better. After all, he was John's little soldier. Several heated moments passed, where Sam and I stood off to the side of the motel room in silence. Dean looked to us with a darkened look that spoke several levels of annoyance and ultimate aggravation before he nodded slowly._

_"Yes, sir." Was all he replied._

_John nodded, "Good. You know the rules."_

_Dean hung his head, "Shoot first, ask questions later, and look after Sam and Abigail."_

_With another nod, John picked up his bag and headed out of the motel room. I knew these past three days have been hell. Between Dean and Sam arguing, or Dean and me arguing, I couldn't blame him for wanting to leave. _I_ knew for a fact, that I wanted to leave for a while. This was the norm though. As soon as John would leave to finish up something, we broke ranks and did our own thing. _

_For instance, Dean went off to flirt with the local female population. Sam went off to the library, though not too far from me. And me? I stayed outside, watching the scenery and surveyed the inhabitants with a cigarette in my hand. Did anyone know about my dirty little secret? Nope. Did I plan on letting the cat out of the bag? Nope._

_And that, was what we did. _

_Except, I met a guy._

* * *

_Present Day_

_Lake_

We had returned to Bill Carlton's house, walking down to the lake. First off the bat, we spotted Bill Carlton sitting on the bench at the dock. Approaching him, Sam cleared his throat, sending us a glance.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam asked, seeing the distant man snap out of his daze, looking up at us as we approached him, "We'd like to ask you a few questions," he then added, "if you don't mind."

"We're from the," Dean got hung up trying to remember what we had said earlier, "the Department—"

"I don't care who you're with," Bill Carlton said pointedly, "I've answered enough questions today."

I frowned at him, "Your son said he saw something in that lake," I stated, "What about you?" Bill Carlton looked up at me forlornly, eyes glazed over, "You ever see anything out there?" I asked, motioning my head out at the lake.

"Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death—" Sam stepped in, "We think there might be a connection to you or your family."

"My children are gone," Bill replied, pained, "It's...It's worse than dying. Go away. _Please._" Without another word, the distraught man that lost both of his children turned to look out at the lake.

I felt drawn to look out as well.

_Come play with me_, the same small childlike voice whispered. I began to wonder if Bill heard what I heard. I nearly jumped when Dean nudged my arm. I stared at him with a deer caught in the headlights look, realizing it was time to go. I nodded, following behind Sam and him closely.

"What do you think?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged, "Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell."

"I also think he's not tellin' us somethin'," I stated, glancing back out to the lake. Sam leaned on the Impala sharing a look between his brother. I pursed my lips at them, "Yes, if you two were wonderin', my _spidey _senses are tingling." Dean stilled when he turned around.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at us with wide eyes, as if he were startled from his thoughts, "Huh?" He looked back at the Carlton's house, "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something," Dean said, pulling out the drawing Lucas had given him from earlier and looked back at us.

* * *

_Sheriff Devins/Andrea's House_

Asking Andrea to speak to Lucas twice in a day was definitely odd to the single mother, "I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea," Andrea said uneasily to me.

"I just need to talk to him," Dean replied with urgency in his voice, "Just for a few minutes."

Sam and I were getting a bit antsy, seeing how Sheriff Devins was her father. We didn't need to cause a scene that would attract unwanted attention. Andrea sighed with exasperation.

"He won't say anything," She told him, "What good's it gonna do?" She asked, shrugging her shoulders.

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt," Sam said gently, "We think something's happening out there."

She shook her head, "My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all."

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go," Dean reasoned with her, "But if you think there's even a _possibility_ that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son."

After several minutes of coaxing, Andrea finally gave in, leading us upstairs to Lucas's room. Sam, Andrea, and I stood outside of the door while Dean entered and sat beside Lucas.

"Hey, Lucas," Dean said with a smile, "You remember me?" He looked down to see two more drawings of the same red bike from earlier, "You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again." Dean dug into his pocket, pulling out the house picture, placing it in front of him, "How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me." I heard him ask, pressing on. Andrea threw us an uneasy look.

Dean nodded at Lucas's silence, "You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too."I was actually stunned at how Dean was with him. A small thought suddenly reared its head, a small _urge_ so to say that maybe, perhaps… I shook my head, ridding the thought before it had time to finish. We looked on as Lucas dropped his crayon, looking at Dean.

He handed him another picture, piquing my interest.

"Thanks, Lucas." Dean spoke gently.

_Impala_

Dean and Sam sat in the front seat of the Impala, Sam holding the picture while I sat in the back.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died," Dean said, glancing at the image.

"There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies." Sam explained, looking up at his brother.

"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?" I asked, looking at the two men.

Dean shrugged, "I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns," He kept his eyes on Sam, "so if you got a better lead, _please_."

Sam sighed, "Alright, we got another house to find."

"The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." I stated, leaning forward in the seat to look over their shoulders at the photo. Sam looked down at the picture.

"See this church?" Sam asked, pointing to it, "I bet there are less than a thousand of those around here."

Dean snorted, "Oh, College Boy thinks he's so smart."

"You know, um..." Sam began, changing the subject, "What you said about Mom..." He sighed, "You never told me that before." I leaned backwards, smiling at Dean.

"It's no big deal," Dean said dismissively, realizing that Sam was staring at him. He looked at his brother rolling his eyes, "Oh _God_, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?" Sam laughed, shaking his head while I sat, covering my mouth with my hand to hide a huge smile.

* * *

_Church/Sweeney House_

In front of us was a white church, shaped exactly like the one in Lucas's drawing. Dean held up the drawing, eyes flickering back and forth in comparison, before setting his sights on a yellow house beside it. Sam and I looked at him, then looked up at the church when Dean confirmed it. We turned, crossing the street to the yellow house.

Approaching the door, I knocked lightly as an elderly woman answered the door. I gave her my sweetest smile, "We're sorry to bother you, ma'am. Do you mind if we come in?" I asked, fishing out my badge, "U.S. Department of Wildlife."

She nodded, stepping backwards to allow us in.

"We were wondering," Dean asked on his way in, "Does a little boy live here, by chance?" He queried, "He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle."

The elderly woman, shortly known as Mrs. Sweeney, shook her head with a distant look of remorse on her aged face, "No sir. Not for a very long time." She gazed over to a photograph of the little boy, "Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now," a saddened sigh escaped her lips, "The police never—I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared." Sam nudged Dean, pointing out a small group of toy soldiers on a nearby table. _Those haven't been touched in ages_, I thought as Mrs. Sweeney continued, "Losing him—you know, it's…" I heard a quick intake of air, "it's worse than dying."

Dean glanced at Sam and I, "Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?"

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up." Mrs. Sweeney explained, watching Dean pick up another photograph. I stepped closer beside him, seeing that there were two boys in the picture, one of them is Peter with his bicycle.

"Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton," I murmured at the photograph, "Nineteen Seventy." Dean peered at me with a look that told me where we were heading next. I nodded, turning around with my smile in place, "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Sweeney."

Sam, Dean, and I filed out of the elderly woman's house without another word.

* * *

_Impala_

Dean and I were in the front while Sam sat in the back. Things were beginning to piece themselves together now. The feeling I got every time we were at the lake always beckoned me, as if I were supposed to go towards it.

"Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow," Sam deduced.

Dean looked at his brother through the rear view, "Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?"

Sam shook his head, "And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished."

"So what if Bill did something to Peter?" I asked both men.

"What if Bill killed him?" Sam added.

Dean thought for a moment, "Peter's spirit would be furious. It'd want revenge," he shrugged, "It's possible."

_Carlton House_

Pulling up to the Carlton's house once again, we piled out of the Impala, approaching the house.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam called out. Our attention was shortly grabbed by the sound of an engine roaring to life. We didn't hesitate to make our way around the establishment where the lake was visible.

"Check it out," Dean said, seeing Bill going out on the lake in his boat. My heart sank, feeling that urge to go to the water. I broke out into a run, with Sam and Dean following close behind.

"Mr. Carlton!" I yelled out, "You need to come back!"

"Come out of the water!" Dean yelled out as well.

"Turn the boat around!" Sam yelled out, waving his hands to catch the man's attention. I saw a flash of something in the water, causing me to look down, following the wake of the boat as Bill Carlton ignored us. With a huge crash, the water from the lake rose up, tipping the boat over as something grabbed the man _and _his boat. My body froze on the dock, eyes wide with shock at what we had just witnessed. I slowly looked over to Sam and then to Dean, the looks on their faces was evident as well.

* * *

_Police Station_

Walking down the street with Sam and Dean, we found ourselves walking to the Police Station, catching Sheriff Devins outside, about to walk in. I looked over to Sam when Dean made haste to catch up to him. Judging by the ragged, irritated look on Devins' face, he had just got back from the Carlton's house. Sam and I followed the two men inside the station, seeing Andrea.

"Sam? Abigail? Dean?" Andrea asked curiously, standing up as she placed a bag and the container on her chair, "I didn't expect to see you three here."

Devins looked over to his daughter with a raised brow, "So now you're on a first-name basis?" He stated, walking to his office door and opened it, "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you dinner," Andrea replied, motioning to the bag and the container in her chair.

Sheriff Devins gave her an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time."

"I heard about Bill Carlton," she told her father quietly, "Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

Devins blew out an irritated sigh, "Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home."

I twisted around from where I stood when I heard Lucas let out a whine with the look of fear on his face. He jumped up, taking a hold of Dean's arm.

A look of shock fell on Dean, "Lucas, hey, what is it?" He asked softly, earning no reply from the boy, "Lucas," Andrea took Lucas by the arm to try and get him away from Dean.

"Lucas."

I stared on as the distraught boy held onto Dean for dear life, "Lucas, it's okay," he told him, "It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay. It's okay." Finally, Andrea pulled her son away, leading him outside. The poor boy's eyes locked onto Dean. Standing beside him, I clearly saw that he was upset about how Lucas was acting upon hearing him having to go home.

Sam stared on, shocked as Devins threw down his jacket and walked into his workspace. I took the moment, touching Dean's arm gently, "Hey."

Dean looked at me, eyes swirling with concern for the boy's well-being, "Hm."

I examined his face for a beat, "You okay?"

"Yeah," He nodded, following Sam into Devins' workspace, "Come on."

I brought up the rear, "Okay, just so I'm clear," I heard Devins chastise, "You see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way—into the drink, and you never see him again?" He stated.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, that about sums it up."

Devins scoffed at him, "And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible?" He then looked at each of us with a deep frown, "And you're not really Wildlife Service?" He asked, raising a brow.

I blinked at the sheriff in surprise, feeling a chill of panic run through me. Catching the smirk on Devins' face, he nodded, "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you three."

Dean laughed nervously, "See, now, we can explain that."

Devins held up his hand, silencing him, "Enough. _Please._ The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here." I cast a wary glance at Dean and Sam before looking back at the Sheriff, "I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. _Or_," Devins began, "we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

"Door number two sounds good," Sam said rather quickly in a low voice, earning an approving nod from the Sheriff.

"That's the one I'd pick," he replied coolly.

* * *

_Twelve Years Ago_

_East Tawas, Michigan_

_Four Days Later_

_July 20th, 1993_

_It was a warm day. More or less a little windy. Black clouds hung low in the sky of East Tawas, Michigan. John had yet to return, though has called giving us detailed information about what he thinks we're after, a Germanic Nix. For the first time since our time here, Dean hadn't let Sam or me out of his sight and we actually got along. And if there were any chances of us getting hurt, that's when Dean went into 'big brother mode'. Of course, it was the overbearing, overprotective big brother mode. And it got annoying._

_The three of us sat on the couch, facing the television and watched _Tales from the Crypt_ with amused looks on our faces. It was a bit humorous for three kids who hunted supernatural beings for a living, _watch_ something about supernatural happenings and 'oh so scary' skits that were too corny _not_ to watch. It was quite comedic. Sam had conked out between Dean and I, his head resting comfortably on my lap and curled up into a ball, leaving Dean and me the only ones conscious._

_Quietly, I ran my nails through Sam's shaggy hair in a lulling motion, ignoring the quick glances from Dean. He would shift in his seat, scratch the back of his neck, and pop his knuckles in an aggravating way that induced a very awkward conversation. To my advantage, I was thoroughly engrossed in watching the haggard little puppet known as the Crypt Keeper, cackle like a maniac._

_"So," Dean began, causing me to look over to him unenthusiastically, "Who's this guy you're seeing?"_

_I blinked, "What guy?"_

_He scrunched his face in a scrutinizing look, "You can't lie to me, Abigail. That douche-y guy that runs around in leather jackets and rides a motorcycle."_

Crap. How did he know that? _I thought to myself, "I have no idea what you're talkin' about, Dean." I replied stiffly._

_He snorted, rolling his eyes at me, "_Yeah, _sure. Look, I don't want you hanging around the guy. He's bad news."_

_My head rolled to the side, staring Dean down, "Really? You're gonna tell me not to hang out with Harper?" I capped my hand over my mouth. _Foolish! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

_Dean's eyes widened, though he kept a smug look, "Oh, so we're on a first-name basis? Harper, huh?"_

_"Shut up, Dean." I retorted, "You get to hang out with every girl in town and no one bats an eye, then when _I_ decide to hang out with a guy, everyone loses their minds."_

_"It's my job to look after you and Sam," Dean replied, flippantly, "What I say, goes."_

_I snorted, shifting in my spot, careful not to wake Sam up, "You know what I say?"_

_"What?" he challenged._

_"Up. Yours, Winchester." I hissed out. "I'll do whatever I want." I scooted out from under Sam and rose to my feet, grabbing my button-up shirt off the back of the couch. Dean scrambled over the couch and raced to the door, blocking my way._

_"You're not going." Dean said._

_I glared at him, "Yes. I am. Get out of my way." His hands went to my arm and drug me away from the door._

_"No, you're not." He stated, growing agitated._

_"Let me go, Dean." I warned, "So help me-!"_

_"So help me, _what?_" He said, getting closer to my face. In truth, it sort of frightened me when he got on the offensive. It wasn't the fact that he invaded my personal space, it was the look he got in his eyes…it was animalistic almost. "You're not going anywhere—" he shoved me to the point where I fell back onto the bed. I stared up at him in shock, "—so, sit." _

_"Why are you such a _douche?!"_ I yelled out._

_He spun around to glare at me, "Why do you have to be such a baby?! All you ever do is mope around and cry and cause problems!" I sat back, gaping at him in shock, "Ever since you came here, you have been nothing but trouble! You've given Sam five black eyes because of those freak dreams of yours. I mean, who the hell can see the things we kill? Freaks do!" I couldn't speak, or bring myself to speak. I had fallen silent, listening to every word he said. And he wasn't done, "If it wasn't hard before you came into the picture, _you_ made it worse! It was fine when it was just Sammy, Dad, and me."_

_I fought back tears, "My dad—"_

_"Is Dead." Dean interrupted, "He's not coming back. Neither is your mom or your sisters or brother. They're gone. Get over it. Nobody threw a pity party for us when our mother died. I sure as hell won't give you any sympathy a year later."_

_I shook my head, staring at him wide-eyed with raw, unadulterated anger blossoming in my stomach. Angry, hot tears stung my eyes and before I knew what I was doing, I got up from the bed, delivered a swift right hook to Dean's jaw, and right as Sam sat up in the couch to look at us, I was already at the door, leaving._

_I didn't need them. I didn't need anyone. I didn't need to be loved, or wanted, or anything._

* * *

_Present Day—Night_

_Impala_

Having took the Sheriff's advice to skip town, the three of us sat quietly waiting for the light to turn green. Dean sat in the driver's seat in silence, face screwed in a look of concern that wasn't about to budge as I glanced up at the lights that were under a sign pointing to I-43 North to Milwaukee.

The light changed to green and the car didn't budge. I glanced at Sam and Dean in the light of the streetlamps.

"Green." I pointed out.

Dean furrowed his brows, coming out of thought and looked at me in the rear-view mirror, "What?"

Sam leaned forward a bit, looking at the light, "Light's green."

Dean nodded, turning right instead of left. I was genuinely confused at the moment, sending Sam looks while he returned the same equally confused look back. I shook my head at him as he looked at his brother, "Uh, the interstate's the other way," Sam started slowly as Dean nodded, not looking.

"I know."

Sam gave me another backwards glance and I shrugged at him. He let out an audible sigh, "But Dean, this job?" He said, "I think it's over."

Dean shook his head, "I'm not so sure."

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed," Sam replied.

"The spirit should be at rest," I suggested, earning a glare from Dean.

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done?" He snapped, "You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?" Dean shook his head, glancing to both Sam and I, "Abs, you gotta tell me your spidey-senses weren't off the fritz when the lake opened up on Bill."

I fell silent due to his curt response. After a short moment, I slowly nodded, biting my lip as I looked down at my hands, "It's still goin' crazy," I responded softly, not bothering to look up at either brother.

"Why would you think that?" Sam asked.

I opened my mouth to speak until Dean beat me to the punch, "Because Lucas was really scared."

_Not what I was gonna say, but that's new_, I mused to myself as Sam looked at his brother.

"That's what this is about?" Sam asked.

Dean looked ahead, falling silent for a moment, "I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay."

Sam turned his head to look at me with raised brows. I shrugged, although I was mildly impressed and quite shocked at Dean.

"Who are you?" Sam began with a smile, "And what have you done with my brother?"

Dean threw him a dead stare, "Shut up."

I grinned, "Well, ain't this one helluva Hallmark moment?" Sam's smile widened into a toothy grin and started laughing while I noticed Dean sink a little bit in his seat. I could only imagine what his face looked like, only to see a pair of glittering hazel eyes peering up with an intense glare in the rearview mirror at me. I joined in with Sam, laughing and high fived him. Dean swatted at our hands before he began mumbling curses under his breath.

* * *

_Devins/Barr House_

Pulling into Andrea's driveway, the three of us piled out of the Impala, Sam and I looking at Dean with uncertainty.

Sam looked at the house, "Are you sure about this? It's pretty late, man."

Saying nothing, Dean rang the doorbell, Lucas immediately opens the door with a look of terror on his face. Before Dean could get hold of him, Lucas had already torn off into the house as Dean called out to him, "Lucas? Lucas!"

All of us raced up the stairs, avoiding the water that had begun pouring down it as Lucas pounded on the bathroom door. Pushing him out of the way towards Sam and me, I held him close when Dean kicked down the door. As soon as the door opened, Lucas flew to Dean allowing Sam and me to run in. The bathwater was a murky brown color, giving Sam a wary look when we stuck our arms in, pulling Andrea up. Something jerked her back under, causing me to lose my footing and busted my nose against the side of the tub. I recoiled back in pain, seeing white dots dance across my vision along with tears blurring it.

As bad as I wanted to sit back and nurse my nose, I brushed it off with a shake of my head and helped Sam pull Andrea all the way out, grabbing a towel from behind me and wrapped her in it while she coughed up water. I sat back onto the tiled floor, breathing heavily wiping the blood that was pouring from my nose with my arm, obviously smearing it as it dripped off my chin and onto the floor.

* * *

_Later_

The sun was beginning to break across the sky. I sat in a recliner with my head tilted back, my jacket off and a different shirt on while Sam and Andrea-who had long since been dry and wore comfortable clothes, though very distraught about what happened-sat on the couch. Glancing over at a nearby mirror, I frowned as I made out two black crescents forming under my eyes from where I busted my nose on the tub.

_Only me,_ I grumped, _just call me Coon Eyes_. I thought, catching Dean from the corner of my eye looking through notebooks on bookshelves. He glanced up from the notebook at me with a look that asked if I was alright now. I merely nodded, pulling the rag from my nose to see that it had finally quit bleeding.

Andrea had started crying, catching my attention, "It doesn't make any sense," she said, shaking her head, "I'm going crazy." I watched her put her face in her hands, before I looked out at the lake, finding myself becoming fixated once again.

_Come play with me_, the childlike voice whispered. I blinked, tearing my gaze away from the lake and glanced over at Andrea and Sam, then looked at Lucas who looked back at me. _So, he heard it too_.

"No, you're not," Sam told the distraught woman soothingly, "Tell me what happened. Everything."

Looking back at Andrea, she looked down at her hands bitterly and sniffled, "I heard...I thought I heard...There was this voice." She finally said.

I slowly straightened up in the recliner, "What did it say?" I asked, earning a frightened look from the woman.

"It said...It said 'come play with me'." Andrea replied, then looked to Sam, "What's happening?" She asked, sobbing.

From behind me, Dean pulled out a scrapbook, opening it and flipped through the pages. Closing it, he walked around the recliner and set the book down in front of Andrea, opening it again to a picture. I tilted my head and leaned forward to get a better look.

"Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?" He asked her.

Andrea looked up at him, "What?" Then she looked down at the old photo, shaking her head,  
"Um, um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there," she stated, pointing to her father as a child, "He must have been about twelve in these pictures." Then she moved her finger to another image of her father. It was the same image of him standing with Peter Sweeney. My eyes flitted up to Sam's face, seeing him give me a look.

"Chris Barr's drowning," Dean said to Sam, "The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the sheriff."

"Bill and the sheriff-," I murmured trailing off in thought.

"—They were both involved with Peter," Sam finished for me.

Andrea's eyes widened, "What about Chris? My dad—what are you talking about?"

Dean looked sideways, seeing Lucas staring out the window, "Lucas?" The silent boy opened the door, walking outside, "Lucas, what is it?" I rose to my feet, walking outside with Dean, Sam, and Andrea.

"Lucas, honey?" Andrea called after him as he stopped ahead, looking at the ground before peering up at Dean.

Turning to me, Dean gazed at me for a moment, "Take Lucas and Andrea back to the house and stay there, okay?" Furrowing my brows, I didn't argue with him and nodded. Ushering them both back into the house, Dean and Sam rounded the house to retrieve shovels from the Impala. Andrea and I sat in silence, hearing the audible scraping of shovels against the ground before hearing Sam and Dean talking.

Andrea turned to watch whatever they were doing, then jumping up with a gasp. I looked up at her with furrowed brows, rising to my feet as well, seeing the Sheriff pointing a gun at Sam and Dean, "Go to your room, sweetie." Andrea told Lucas, "Now. Lock the door and wait for me, don't come out," Without a word, Lucas ran up to me, clasping his arms around my waist, "Lucas!"

I glanced outside to Dean and Sam before looking back at her, "It's fine, I got 'im." I replied, catching her unsure look, "Really."

Andrea nodded before rushing out of the house, leaving me with Lucas. I looked down at the silent boy, who was staring up at me, "You hear that voice too?" Still silent, a flicker of emotion passed in his eyes. I looked up to the scene outside, "C'mon, let's go up to your room. Wha'cha say?" I said, passing with a smile, only to be drug out a different door by Lucas, "Hey, hey, hey. Lucas." I glanced up to see that we were a ways away from the confrontation.

"Yeah, and how do you know that?" Devins said curtly, gun still aimed at Dean and Sam. I frowned deeply at him, fighting the urge to join in.

Sam stood his ground, staring at him with a stony look, "Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton."

Devins scoffed at Dean and Sam, "Listen to yourselves, both of you. You're insane. Including that girl that's with you."

"I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us," Dean replied, "But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust." He continued, "Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere." Devins stayed silent, as a look of realization fell on Dean's face, "Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake."

I heard Peter's voice call out to us, "_Come play with me_." Lucas turned towards the source of the voice, and looked up at me. Glancing back to the group, I looked back down at Lucas. Peter wasn't going to get him, one way or another.

"You trust me?" I asked the boy. He stared up at me, giving me a slight nod. I swallowed down a knot in my throat and nodded back at him, "A'ight."

We began to walk away from the confrontation, Andrea being the last one to speak as the distance muffled them out.

* * *

_Twelve Years Ago_

_East Tawas, Michigan_

_Harper and I walked up the East Tawas Dock, his arm slung around my shoulders in an affectionate manner, our footsteps in sync. Despite the fishy smell of the lake, it was alright. I had long since calmed down, the rain had long since passed by, and the sun was shining. Dean hadn't bothered to come after me, nor did I really want to be around him._

_"You okay?" Harper asked me, concerned._

_I nodded, smiling up at him, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just…upset, I guess."_

_We stopped at the furthest point of the dock that had to have been in some of the deeper parts of Tawas Bay. Behind us was the beach and the Tawas Bay Beach Resort. The waters of Tawas Bay lapped at the dock invitingly, like it was calling out. Harper placed a delicate hand on my cheek, wiping away stray tears before he smiled at me with those dazzling teeth of his. It was hard to believe someone like him, was interested in me, of all people. _

_I stared into his golden-brown eyes, that almost looked amber, and I felt alright, "Everything will be alright, Abigail." He murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead. I nodded against his touch._

* * *

_Present Day_

_Dean's POV_

Andrea stared at her father, "Dad, is any of this true?" The Sheriff shook his head at his daughter.

"No," he replied, "Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous." I stood still, despite wanting to deck this asshole in the face.

Andrea looked at him in disbelief, shaking her head, "Something tried to drown me," she told him, "Chris died on that lake." I watched as Andrea's father looked at Sammy and I, "Dad, look at me." He slowly looked back at her, "Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone." Again, Devins looked away, obviously ashamed, "Oh my God." She breathed out, tears welling up in her eyes as she covered her mouth.

Devins shook his head with remorse on his face, "Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough." He inhaled, "We were holding his head under the water." Looking up at us with tears in his eyes, "We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." I looked over at Sam upon hearing this man's grim confession.

"Oh, Andrea, we were kids," Devins told his daughter, trying to make her understand, "We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost?" He shook his head, "It's not rational."

"All right, listen to me, all of you," I began, "We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, _right now_." Something suddenly caught Andrea's eye as a look of sheer terror took its place making her gasp. Turning, I felt my heart sink into my stomach upon seeing Abigail and Lucas down at the end of the dock, reaching over.

"Lucas!" Devins yelled, panicked. I had already started off towards the dock with Sam at my heels.

"Lucas! Abs!" I yelled out at the top of my lungs, hoping and praying that they would move away.

"Lucas! Baby, stay where you are!" I heard Andrea cry out, frantically. As we reached the edge of the lake, Lucas was flung backwards as Abigail disappeared underneath the water.

"Abigail!" Sam and I yelled out in chorus as we raced down the dock and dove into the lake after our sister. Christ, this was Michigan all over again. The cold water instantly chilled me to the bone as my visibility quickly went to zero. After all, it was dark and murky. I couldn't let Abigail die because of some ancient history!

Surfacing, I took a deep breath, seeing Andrea holds Lucas for dear life, though, stood at the edge of the dock. I looked around searching for Sam, "Sam?" I called out.

A little ways from me, Sam had surfaced shaking his head 'no'. My heart sank even further. Time was running out. We dove into the water, my heart pounding loudly in my ears searching for some sign of Abigail. I couldn't lose her again. Diving deeper, it was no time I had to come back up for air.

_Son of a bitch!_ I cursed in my mind, surfacing again, only to see Devins in the water up to his neck.

"Peter. That girl, don't hurt her." I heard him call out, "Please, it's not her fault. It's not my family's fault," He begged, "It's mine. Please take me."

"Jake, no!" I called out to him, as a head popped out of the water in front of Jake.

"Just let it be over!" The man told the head. Instantly, he was dragged down.

"Daddy! Daddy! No!" Andrea screamed out. Sam and I dove down once again. I didn't care how deep I had gone, I wasn't going to let anyone die. Not Abigail, not Jake. _No one_. My lungs, by now, had started to protest from the lack of air. I noticed long brown hair drifting in the water, then saw Abigail staring back at me, not moving. Grabbing her, I wasted no time ascending back to the surface.

_Not again_, I chanted, gasping out as soon as we broke the water, "Sam!" I called out, clutching Abgail's limp form tightly against me. I looked around wildly for Sam to have Jake, only to see him swimming my way empty-handed as I started towards the shoreline.

Feeling solid ground under my boots, I held Abigail closely, falling to my knees as I jerked her jacket open and began doing chest compressions, "Don't do this to me, Abigail," I told her between ragged breaths, glancing to her pale face, "Not again." I forced myself to swallow down the knot that had formed in my throat, feeling my heart hammer against my chest.

After thirty chest compressions, I quickly tilted her head back and clamped her nose shut, forcing air into her lungs for a second while peering down at her chest. Nothing. I _refused _to let this happen again. Immediately, I sat back up and performed another set of chest compressions, hearing loud cracks and pops in her chest. It had become clear that a couple of her ribs had possibly fractured from the force. Better sore and alive, than dead.

I forced another breath of air catching her chest rise this time. A flare of hope flourished within my chest before I started back again, this time with more feeling. "Don't you give up on me, Abigail." I panted out between compressions.

"Dean," I heard Sam say, "Man, let me do a few."

I shook my head, "No, I got this." I snapped out. I paused, staring at the lifeless form of my girlfriend and I had become frantic.

* * *

_Twelve Years Ago_

_Tawas Bay, Michigan_

_I watched the light from the sun above me slowly dim as my air supply rapidly ran out. I was ready for this moment, ready to see my family. I wouldn't have to be in the Winchester's way, or be a burden to them. The icy water from the lake had numbed me to the core, knowing how far I was down. It wasn't going to be long now. The inside of lungs began to burn, yearning for me to inhale a breath of air. I fought against it._

_Harper, the Germanic Nix we were looking for all this time, looked back at me with satisfaction. He held my face when out of instinct, my body convulsed, my chest contracting when I swallowed water. I felt the heaviness of water entering my lungs. It was utterly unpleasant. The light from above me grew dimmer when I gulped another mouthful of water again. As the moments passed by, I felt myself slowly lose consciousness; enveloped in the oncoming darkness. Harper succeeded. He had won. I closed my eyes, welcoming the numbness of death._

_"Abigail!" _

_"What?" I called out, irritated that I didn't succumb to the icy water. I stood on a shoreline, dry as a bone. I frowned. Something's wrong. There was a group of people standing around someone. As I approached, I realized that I went through people and that unnerved me. Getting to the center of the crowd, I blinked, seeing a soggy sixteen year old boy, hunched over a body. Noticing the familiarity of the clothes, I realize it was Dean._

_So, there I stood on the shoreline watching my 'older' brother, the one I had gotten into a fight earlier, the one who told me that it was my fault for being with them, call out my name frantically. With furrowed brows, I noticed that the body he was kneeled over, was me. _

_"Abigail!" I heard Dean call out again, "Wake up, damn it!" _

_I knelt down beside him, staring at my body. My skin was pale, lips slowly turning blue, and eyes looking up at a dead stare. I covered my mouth in fear, realizing that I was dead. Dean compressed my chest five times, cursing under his breath, "Don't do this to me, Abigail." He pinched my nose, blowing into my mouth with force behind it. Sitting up on his heels, he watched with tears in his eyes._

He's crying?_ I asked myself. Guilt flooded me and I looked down to my body._

_"I didn't mean what I said earlier, I'm sorry." He rasped out during another set of compression, "Come on," he pleaded, growing frantic with each compression, "Dad's gonna kill me. Please be okay."_

_"You weren't a burden to anyone," I heard a cocky voice. Quickly standing, I saw the man that had been following me around, looking at me from within the crowd. I heard Dean call out my name his voice growing frantic each time I wouldn't respond. The man looked over to my body and clicked his tongue in a mocking fashion, "And you picked a great vessel."_

_Confused, I looked at him, "Am I dead?" I asked._

_The man turned his attention to me and popped his lollipop into his mouth thoughtfully, and shook his head, "No, not yet." He replied with the lollipop still in his mouth. He looked back to Dean and my body, "You have so much to learn, little sister."_

_Something was different about this man. He saw me when no one else couldn't. I looked at him, genuinely confused, "What do you mean sister? I lost my family to a demon."_

_He tilted his head to the side a little ways, smirking, "In due time, you'll know what you really are," He looked to Dean when paramedics arrived, and a bystander pulled him away from me. Dean yelled out and cursed, growing genuinely scared when the paramedics pulled out an AED. In no time, my shirt was cut, exposing my chest as one of the paramedics rubbed the defibrillators together. _

_"Clear." He announced when he pressed the instrument to my chest and my body arched in the sand a few inches from the ground. I watched in horror, looking at my body and looked to Dean, who was as petrified as me. When I didn't respond, they did it again. _

_My attention went to the man. He turned to me, "As of now, it's not your time…and this time, quit being a baby." He patted my cheek gently, "Whenever you wake up, you won't remember a thing. Think of it as a hangover." I furrowed my brows, feeling intense pressure on my chest. It hurt!_

_No sooner than I had felt that, my body had convulsed terribly when I retched up water, turning on my side. I breathed in a breath of air as nausea hit me hard, retching more water before coughing until my chest hurt me._

* * *

_Present Day_

_Dean's Point of View_

"Come on, Abs." I pleaded, bending close to her mouth where I forced a breath of air before I reeled back when she shuddered. I sat back wide-eyed and frantic, hoping, _praying_ that nothing had happened to her, and watched as she suddenly rolled over onto her side, spluttering and coughed as water came from her mouth before she rolled onto her back, breathing heavily. I took her in my arms, holding her tightly against my body as tears burned my eyes. Blinking them away quickly, I glanced up to meet Sam's look of relief, then looked over seeing Andrea and Ben staring at us. Andrea had a sorrowful, yet relieved look as well and Ben… well, he looked the same as before, though a small smile had taken place on his face. _It was a start_.

Looking down at Abigail, her eyelids fluttered open, gazing up at me, "Dean?"

I forgot I was holding my breath and exhaled, "Yeah?"

"No more lakes." She mumbled. Sam started to chuckle, feeling myself smile and began laughing softly and pulled her against me tighter.

I shook my head, feeling Abigail's cold skin against mine, "No more lakes," I promised.

* * *

_Street_

_Abigail's Point of View_

Dean and I walked out of the motel with his arm slung over my shoulder, followed by Sam with his duffel bag. Since Jake Devins' death, Dean had been rather silent. Sam and I both knew that he was disappointed that he couldn't do anything to save him. Allowing his arm to fall from my shoulder, Dean opened the back passenger door as Sam sidestepped me and tossed his bag.

"Look," Sam said, breaking the silence, "we're not gonna save everybody."

Dean looked at him over his shoulder for a long moment, then nodded, "I know."

"Abigail, Sam, Dean." Andrea's voice called out. The three of us turned around, seeing her and Lucas walking up.

Dean smiled at them, "Hey."

"We're glad we caught you," she said with a smile, "We just, um, we made you lunch for the road." Andrea looked down at Lucas, who was carrying a tray of sandwiches. I smiled at him, "Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself." She explained, laughing a little.

He looked up to his mom, "Can I give it to them now?"

Andrea nodded, "Of course." She said, smiling and kissed him on the head.

Dean looked at Lucas, then glanced up at me, "Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car." He said, leading Lucas to the car.

I folded my arms, gazing at Andrea, "How you holding up?"

"It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?"

Sam sighed, his head sagging in a sympathetic way, "Andrea, I'm sorry."

The mourning woman shook her head, looking at the two of us, "You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that," She replied softly, "Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that." Sam and I nodded, then watched as Dean and Lucas put the sandwiches in the car. I smirked at the shaggy headed boy.

"Alright, if you're gonna be talking now, this is a very important phrase," I told him, earning a grin from Lucas, "So Dean and I want you to repeat it one more time."

"Zeppelin rules!" He shouted with a toothy grin.

Dean grinned at him, "That's right," he held up his hand, "Up high."

Obliging, Lucas high-fived him, grin still intact. Watching Dean interact with Lucas made me smile stupidly as I wrapped my arms around myself in my second pair of clean and dry clothes, "You take care of your mom, okay?" I said softly, before the boy suddenly hugged my waist. I blinked at him in shock, before returning it. For a moment, I saw my brother, Mikey, in Lucas and I began tearing up.

"Alright," he replied, looking up at me with a grin. Quickly, I blinked them away before feeling Andrea touch my arm. Looking at her, she wrapped me in a hug as well.

"Thank you," she whispered, before stepping back. I nodded, not really saying anything.

"Abigail, move your ass," Dean called out, making me realize that Sam and him both were in the Impala, "We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

With a roll of my eyes, I squeezed Andrea's hand lightly before climbing across Sam to the middle, hearing _Movin' On_ by Bad Company playing across the radio. Peering out of the window, Andrea and Lucas were waving as we pulled out onto the hardtop and drove away.

* * *

_Twelve Years Ago_

_East Tawas, Michigan_

_Hospital_

_"How is she doing?" John's gruff voice cut through the haze._

_I heard a sigh, "She's suffering from hypothermia, but she's just resting now."_

_John let out a relieved sigh, "Good."_

_"Mr. Winchester, we'd like to run some tests on your daughter to ensure that she doesn't have any brain damage due to how long she wasn't breathing."_

_Silence. "Whatever you got to do," John replied. Again, I felt myself drift off into nothingness. No! Not again! I tried to claw my way back up to the surface, but failed._

_I stirred, feeling a weight on my hand. Slowly opening my eyes, I squinted to see what was on my hand, only to realize that Dean was sitting beside my bed, asleep. Rubbing my eyes, I felt him jerk._

_"Abigail," he breathed out in relief, "You're awake."_

_"Where's dad?" I asked quietly._

_Dean stared at me, "What's your deal?"_

_I blinked at him a couple of times, "What?"_

_He frowned at me in anger, "Why did you do that?"_

_"Do what, Dean?"_

_"Don't play dumb with me, Abigail," Dean snapped causing me to jump slightly, hanging my head, "You know what you did."_

_"Yeah, I did." I replied. Dean looked taken aback, then looked guilty._

_"Was it because of me?" He asked me in a hushed tone._

_I shook my head, "I just thought—"_

_"Thought what?"_

_Tears pricked my eyes, "I just get in you and your dad's way…You were right."_

_Dean frowned, deeply upset at my response, "I didn't mean any of that. I'm an ass. You gotta overlook me, sometimes." We were quiet, upset, and I shifted uncomfortably, "You honestly thought you were a burden?" He asked._

_I nodded "Yeah." I whispered, careful to not let him see me cry._

_"Well you're not, but I guess you're too stupid to see that," Dean replied curtly, trying to appear fine, "Whether you want to believe it or not, Abigail, we're your family now." He sighed in frustration, "You don't realize how bad I got it from Dad."_

_"Dean…" I began, gazing down at my hands, "I'm sorry."_

_He snorted, "Yeah, I bet," He replied dryly._

_"I am, whether you want to believe it or not," I replied, repeating his words, "I just…" my voice hitched in my throat, "I just miss my parents…and my sisters and brother." I shook my head as Dean's hard look softened, "You're right, Dean. They're not coming back." Tears fell onto my lap making me wipe them away, embarrassed, "And I know they're not coming back…I-I just wanted to hold onto something, thinking that one day, they're gonna come and get me." He furrowed his brows, upset once again knowing that what he had said to me earlier, was getting to him, "I just feel like I failed them…"_

_He shook his head at me fervently, "No you didn't," I looked at him, "You made them proud…you even took out a demon by just remembering an exorcism," Dean flashed me his goofy grin, "I couldn't have even done it without using a book," he tapped his head, "I'm not smart."_

_I scoffed, rolling my eyes, "Yeah. Sure ya are," I retorted, "You're pretty smart, you're just too stupid to realize it."_

_He smirked at me, "Well, just letting you know, Dad's gonna to chew you a new one for being reckless." I nodded, bracing myself for what John was going to lay on me, "Doc says you'll be discharged sometime today, Sam's about to drive me crazy, so thanks for laying that on me."_

_I smiled sheepishly at him, "You're welcome."_

_He chuckled, standing up, "Well, I gotta go, there's this smokin' babe waitin' on me at the diner." He winked at me, "Good luck with Dad." Butterflies erupted into my stomach when he had done so. Ruffling my hair, Dean walked out as John walked in. _

_Oh boy._

* * *

**Hello Everyone! I apologize for not posting anymore updates as of late. I'm getting ready to leave for Washington State to visit with my family, so my college classes are putting a bit of stress on me! Anyhoo, I went through this chapter, updated what I could, and ****_voila!_**** Chapter Five is up!**

**Also, I'm taking requests, tips, little tid-bits of whatever you'd like to see in upcoming chapters! It can be anything from quotes, scenes from movies or shows, anything! Just send me a PM or leave 'em in your reviews!**

**Also, if you see any boo-boos, shoot me a message and I'll fix it!**

**Ya'll are great!**

* * *

**Update: September 29, 2014**

**The lyrics at the beginning of this chapter is called _The Gift_ by Seether. I thought these lyrics suited the chapter due to how everything played out in the flashback! ****Let me know how I did with sixteen year old Dean and fifteen year old Abigail, I hope this portrayed them and filled ya'll in with what had happened.**

**Also, we had a guest appearance! Can you tell me who you think it was and what you think is going on? (;**

**I also want to thank Ladysunshine6! Oh my Chuck, I can't thank you enough! You have given me ideas and suggestions that helped me out a lot with the flashback bit, as well as pointing out what Dean had meant about what happened in Michigan! So, I tip my hat to you! I thoroughly hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

* * *

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**


	7. Phantom Traveler

**Hello Everyone! First off, I want to apologize to everyone for this late posting! I have been uber busy! I had a wedding to attend out of state and then as soon as I got back home, I had finals to worry about! Nonetheless, I can say I have finally got the time to finish chapter 6! **

**Again, and always, I want to thank my readers! Ya'll are awesomely awesome! I couldn't have done this without you!**

**Also, I'm taking requests, tips, little tid-bits of whatever you'd like to see in upcoming chapters! It can be anything from quotes, scenes from movies or shows, anything! Just send me a PM or leave 'em in your reviews!**

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

**Also, if you see any boo-boos, shoot me a message and I'll fix it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the ****_Supernatural_**** franchise, except for Abigail and whatever non-canon plots, schemes, or scenes! (;**

* * *

Sprawled out on his stomach in the middle of the bed and dressed in a pair of black shorts and a shirt, Dean appeared to still be asleep. I smirked to myself, catching the 'sleeping' man's hand reach up and under his pillow for the knife that he hid from the other side of the glass barrier of the room, despite being wadded up amongst the sheets. I made my presence be known walking through the motel room, singing _Dream On_ by Aerosmith to myself, setting down my keys and the bag of goodies that Sam and I had retrieved from Wally World earlier as Dean peeked up at me with squinted eyes from the light of the window, visibly relaxing back into the bed just before he plopped his head back onto the pillow.

"Mornin' sunshine," I said rather cheerfully to him, sipping on a large cup of coffee.

Dean groaned, "What time is it?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

Taking a brief glance at my cell phone, I took another sip of coffee, "Uh, it's about five forty-five."

"In the morning?" He asked, blinking several times before he rose on his forearms to look at the bedside clock for reassurance.

"Yep," I replied with a smile, crossing the room with the bag and his coffee. I set the bag down in the empty space beside Dean, handing him his coffee before I sat down on the side I slept on, kicking off my shoes and swung my legs onto the bed.

He smiled at me taking the coffee before sitting up, "Where does the day go?"

Placing the bag in his lap, Dean dug around in it before pulling out a handheld apple pie with a grateful grin. Unwrapping it, he took a rather large bite and looked at me, chewing. Realizing he was staring, I glanced back at him, peering into those beautiful eyes of his as he leaned over to me planting a gentle kiss on my lips, his breath; holding a scent of apples and cinnamon. I smiled softly at him when we parted, running my fingertips down his jaw.

Staring into his ever calculating gaze, he straightened back up, digging into the bag for another pie, "Did you get any sleep last night?" He asked, smiling victoriously as he pulled out another apple pie.

I shrugged a response, picking at my coffee lid, "Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours."

"Liar," he accused, taking a bite of the pie, savoring the gooey apple-cinnamon filling, "Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial."

Smirking at him knowing that I was caught in a lie, I took a long sip of coffee, "Hey, what can I say? It's rivetin' TV."

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?" He pointed out. I clamped my jaw tightly, looking down at my coffee cup.

"I don't know, Dean," I replied, "a little while, I guess." Looking up at him with a reassuring look, I laughed softly to throw him off, "It's not a big deal."

Tossing the wrapper into the bag, Dean nodded, "Yeah, it is. I know that you haven't slept well in the past couple of months."

"Dean," I began to protest, though after the sharp look that he had given me, I decided against it.

"You're getting to be as bad as Sam," he stated, "If not worse."

"It is worse," I said with indifference in my voice. Those hazel eyes of Dean's bored into me with concern. I shrugged at him, holding my coffee between my hands, frowning.

"You think you're going to see him again, aren't you?" Dean stated.

I looked up at him, "That and I've been dreamin' a lot of my family…" I confessed with a shake of my head, my lips formed into a thin-line preventing my bottom lip from trembling, "I just can't sleep anymore without seein' my brother and sisters' faces-burned faces-mind you," I added, "Starin' at me, or screamin', or yellin', _it's my fault_." I shook my head again, ridding myself of the images that flashed across my mind while Dean stared at me silently with concern dripping off of him now.

He reached out taking my hand in his and squeezed, "Hey," he said trying to grab my attention, "Hey…" He said again, softly but with urgency underneath his voice. I looked at him quietly, feeling him stroke the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb, "We'll get this lined out, alright?" I merely nodded, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

Hearing the rustling of the bag, I assumed that he placed it on the floor before taking my coffee from me. The bed sank as he placed his and mine on the floor with the bag, before pulling me against his body, lying back onto the bed. Letting out a small sigh, I put my head on his chest, allowing us to feel a brief moment of calm before hearing a knock and the door opening to our room. Dean and I looked, seeing that it's Sam, holding his own cup of coffee and smiled at us, rounding the corner of the barrier that had separated the door and the sleeping area of the room.

"Morning," Sam said as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the empty bed beside us.

I sat up on my elbow, "Mornin' Sammy," I replied, "Sleep well?"

The look he gave me before he faked a smile told me otherwise, "Yeah, I got a few hours."

Dean arched his brow at him, "What is this, the league of liars?" Sam blinked in confusion.

"Dr. Phil knows we were up," I replied with a dismissive shrug as Sam looked between us, mostly at Dean, knowing that he was going to hear a lecture.

"Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?" Dean asked, giving me a sour look at his nickname.

Our brother sighed, "Yeah," he admitted, "But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job," Sam shook his head, "Man, it gets to you."

"You can't let it," Dean said casually, reaching for his coffee and mine, handing mine to me and took a sip of his, "You two can't bring it home like that."

Sam scoffed a little, "So, what? All this," he stated, "It...Never keeps you up at night?"

Dean shook his head innocently, as Sam and I both raised a brow at him.

"Never? You're never afraid?" Sam stated in a matter-of-factly tone.

"No, not really," Dean replied in a casual tone. Sam reached behind me, under Dean's pillow and held up the knife he had hid to prove him wrong. I bit my lips in a poor prevention of a smile, as Dean took the knife back with a calm face, even though he was caught, "That's not fear," he replied, "That is precaution."

Sam shook his head tiredly, "All right, whatever," he said, "I'm too tired to argue," He then looked to me, "I don't see how you can stay up for three days and not be tired."

I shrugged, "Comes naturally, Sammy boy."

Dean's cell phone started to ring, saving me from another interrogation from Dean, who only threw me a look that told me we'd have a serious talk later. I silently thanked the stars for small things as the serious look turned into a quizzical look as to who was calling his cell phone, "Hello?" He answered.

Realization fell over him and he nodded, "Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing." I looked at him with furrowed brows, then to Sam, who looked at us with curiosity in his eyes, "It's not back, is it?" Dean asked, his voice laced with concern.

I really strained my ears to hear the voice, but I knew who Dean was speaking to as soon as Kittanning was brought up. That job was a doozy with Dean and me coming out with cuts and bruises, and a dislocated shoulder, while John came out scotch-free. Lucky for him.

I rotated my left shoulder at the thought of Kittanning, as Dean asked, "What is it?" After a short moment, Dean nodded and closed his phone.

"What is it?" I found myself echoing his last question, as Dean shrugged his shoulders in response.

He sighed, "Wouldn't say. Wanted to talk in person."

_Hangar_

Walking on the right side of Dean, I gazed at our former client, Jerry, as we walked through the hangar.

"Thanks for making the trip so quick," Jerry said with relief in his voice to Dean and I, "I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around." He looked to Sam, who was walking on his left, "Dean, Abigail, and your dad really helped me out."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?"

A worker we passed by apparently overheard us speaking and piped in, "Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie."

Jerry's head snapped in the man's direction, "Hey, nobody's talking to you," he spoke harshly, "Keep walking," he ordered a group of onlookers before he bowed his head at us, "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for the both of you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive." Jerry said in a low voice to Dean and I once again before turning his attention to Sam, "Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

Sam nodded once again, "Yeah, I was," he replied elusively, "I'm-taking some time off."

Jerry chuckled, "Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

Exchanging a look with Dean, I looked over to see a surprised look on our brother's face, "He did?" I heard him ask softly.

Jerry nodded, "Yeah, you bet he did." He affirmed, looking back over to Dean, "Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now." I replied with an anxious smile.

A smile graced Jerry's face as we rounded a corner, "Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?"

Dean and I laughed, knowing Sam shook his head, apparently uncomfortable from the praises.

"No, not by a long shot." I heard him murmur.

Jerry looked at us, "I got something I want you guys to hear," he stated, leading us into his office.

_Office_

Sitting in an office chair, situated between Sam and Dean, the three of us stared at our client attentive to what he had to say.

"I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." He said, placing a CD into a drive, "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours." He explained.

Pressing play, the scratchiness of the recording screeched over the speakers abruptly, _"Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! 2485-immediate instruction...May be experiencing some mechanical failure..._" I leaned in further, after hearing a loud swooshing sound, then a loud roar resonated from it, drowning out the pilot's voice. With furrowed brows, I glanced up at Jerry's face, seeing that he knew I heard something underneath it.

He continued somberly, "Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south." Jerry looked at each of us, "Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why," I heard him let out a sigh, shaking his head, "Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...Well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

Jerry's look hardened with the firm belief that it wasn't, "No, I don't."

I nodded at him, "Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests," I waved my hand a little, "Um..A list of survivors." I explained.

Jerry bobbed his head, "Alright," he replied without a question.

"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked as well.

The man looked between us, "The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage..." A moment of silence fell between us in a moment of hesitation, "Guys, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

Dean frowned and inclined his head dismissively, "No problem."

_Copy Jack Store_

Leaning against the counter, I hummed Reba MacIntire's rendition of _Fancy_ while I waited on the IDs before I peered over my shoulder. With a smirk gracing my lips, I looked through the window of the store seeing Sam rolling his eyes at Dean, who was speaking, but mostly with his hands and a serious look on his face.

_What in the world can they be talkin' about?_ I thought before hearing a series of beeps and smiled upon seeing three ID cards pop out. Picking them up, I went over to the cash register and paid the clerk, smiling sweetly at him.

"Thanks, hun," I stated as he handed me the receipt, before turning on my heel and walked out of the store, passing a woman that Dean would deem, attractive. I smiled sweetly at her, holding the door open.

"Thanks," she said with a smile.

I nodded, "No problem." Turning, I caught Dean eyeing the blonde with an appraising look, then nudged Sam, inclining his head in her direction.

_After eight years, some things never change_, I thought upon getting closer to the brothers. Dean had his hands shoved in his jeans with an overdramatic huff.

"You've been in there _forever_," he groaned out.

I tossed him a grin, holding up three IDs, "Can't rush perfection, Darlin'."

Sam took his, inspecting it before he looked up at me in mild shock, "Homeland Security?" Sam shook his head, "That's pretty illegal, even for us."

Dean inclined his head at Sam, "Well, it's something new," he said, taking his ID and looked at it, "People haven't seen it a thousand times." With a nod of approval, Dean moved to get into the Impala. We followed suit.

"Alright, so, what do you got?" Dean asked after he slammed the car door shut and got comfortable.

Sam pulled out his laptop, "Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Pulling up the EVP, he glanced at the two of us, "Listen."

Hearing the dull click of the mouse pad, I heard the scratchiness of the recording play, "_No survivors!_" The mystery voice roared. It literally sent chills up and down my spine as I frowned.

Catching the slight smirk on Dean's lips, he raised a brow at the voice, "_No survivors?_ What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, "There were seven survivors."

"Got me," Sam said, shrugging. I sat in the back, falling silent. That familiar uneasy feeling was already rearing its head.

"So, what are you thinking?" I asked slowly in order for me to choose my words, "A haunted flight?"

Sam shrugged, "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers."

Dean and I nodded, encouraging him to speak further. I knew what he meant, but from Dean's spacey look, he needed a refresher since planes weren't really our thing.

"_Or, _remember flight 401?"

"The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights." Dean stated as Sam looked between him and me, nodding. I smirked, he knew exactly what a phantom traveler was. I think he just enjoyed making Sam tell him to make sure he knew himself.

"Right." He confirmed.

"Well… maybe we got a similar deal," I said with a small shrug.

Dean nodded, mulling things over, "Alright, so, _survivors_," he began, "which one do you want to talk to first?"

I peered down at the list of survivors, "Uhm… Third on the list: Max Jaffey… Joffey?" I raise my brows at the last name, "Jaffey." I inclined my head repeating the first pronunciation, hearing Dean and Sam chuckling at me.

"Why him?" Dean asked with a teasing grin in place.

Sam, who was chuckling as well, answered for me, "Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything, he did."

Taking it seriously now, Dean asked, "What makes you say that?"

"Well, I spoke to his mother," Sam stated, "And she told me where I could find him—Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital."

I frowned in distaste at the mention of _the hospital_. Needles, cemeteries, and looney bins were not my thing. Neither were creepy crawlies of any forms, "Yay," I mumbled dryly. The two boys' shoulders shook with silent amusement.

_Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital-Garden_

Out of the hospital and in the garden, Sam, Dean, and I walked alongside Max Jaffey, who was walking with a cane; a look of irritation taking place on his face.

"I don't understand," He replied with an irritated shake of his head, "I already spoke with Homeland Security."

Dean nodded, "Some new information has come up, so if you could just answer a couple of questions…"

I inclined my head with a reassuring look to the man, "Just before the plane went down, did you notice anythin'…unusual?" I asked.

Max looked me up and down skeptically, "Like what?"

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe." Sam explained.

"Voices." Dean added.

Max shook his head, "No, nothing." He replied, averting his gaze. Finding a table with a few wooden chairs, we sat down, looking at him.

"Mr. Joffey-," Dean began.

"_Jaffey_," Max quipped, cutting Dean off quickly-irritated once again. I wanted to roll my eyes at this man. He was a little jumpy for my taste.

"Jaffey," Dean repeated, correctly this time, "You checked yourself in here, right?" Max's head bobbed in confirmation at the question, "Can I ask why?"

He looked at Dean in disbelief, "I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash."

"And that's what terrified you?" Dean pushed, "That's what you were afraid of?"

Max spooked, "I… I don't want to talk about this anymore." Dean turned to me and Sam, frustration clearly swirling around in his eyes. It was our turn to calm the jittery survivor.

"See, I think maybe you did see somethin' up there," I stepped in placing a gentle hand on Max's arm. He looked down at my touch, then up at me, "We need to know what."

He contemplated speaking, the answer being right on the tip of his tongue, then he shook his head, "No. _No_, I was...Delusional." Max stammered, trying to gain his bearings, "Seeing things."

Dean looked unimpressed, "He was seeing things."

Sam arched his brow at his brother's mockery, "It's okay," Sam said gently, "Then just tell us what you _thought_ you saw, please."

Max looked between Sam and I as he bowed his head in reconciliation, before he peered back up at us, "There was...This—man. And, uh, he had these...Eyes," he began, lifting a hand and circled it around his eyes, "—these, uh...Black eyes. And I saw him—or I thought I saw him..." Max shook his head, trying to recall the grim memory.

Dean blinked, "What?"

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's...That's impossible, right?" Max asked, looking at each of us in need of confirmation, "I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door."

I nodded, "Yeah."

Sam shifted forward in his seat, "This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?"

Max scoffed at him, "What are you, nuts?"

In disbelief, Sam tilted his head at him. I raise an eyebrow at the man, _pot this is kettle, you're black._ I stated in my mind.

"He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me." Max stated pointedly.

Dean looked to Sam and I before nodding, "Alright, thank you for your time."

We all three stood up, leaving Max sitting in his chair. Sam and I gave him a curt nod before following Dean out of the garden and back to the parking lot where the Impala sat, waiting.

"What a wack job," Dean grumbled, shoving a hand into his pocket in search of his keys, "I mean, seriously."

Sam rolled his eyes from the passenger side of the Impala, leaning on the roof with this arms folded, "He was in a plane crash, Dean, of course he's going to be off-putting."

"Reguardless," I added, "Even though he's jumpier than a jack rabbit," I caught a glimpse of Dean's lips curling in amusement, "I have to admit I believe 'im when he's talkin' about a demon or whatever we're dealin' with," I looked to my brothers as I rounded the back of the Impala to the driver side back door, "No normal human being is gonna just open an aircraft door while the plane is at an elevation of anywhere between twenty-five to forty-_thousand_ feet with two plus tons of pressure against it." Sam and Dean blinked at me with impressed looks. I smirked, "I like to think I don't just have the looks."

Dean smirked, placing a quick kiss on my forehead, "You have more than that, cherry-pie. And you have a point." Opening the door, he reached back to unlock my door before he climbed in, stretching to open the passenger. Sam and I got in, closing the car doors in unison as the Impala's engine turned, roaring to life, "If this _thing_ is going to hit another plane, then we need to get to the root of what happened."

Picking up the packets of paper that were strewn in the backseat, I flipped through the lists, "Exactly," I murmured, glancing at the names, "Let's see…" I pursed my lips, making awkward sounds for that one name, "George Phelps… George Phelps…"

Sam's hand reached back, "Let me look for it," He said as I rolled my eyes at him, handing the pack of paper.

"Find us ole Georgie Porgie, Sammy," I drawled out.

In no time, Sam had found the address, "His widow isn't far." I frowned at how fast he found the address, noticing him looking back at me with a smug look. I made a sour look at him, sticking my tongue out. Sam shook his head and chuckled, in no time, Dean had joined in.

_Phelps House_

Pulling up in front of George Phelps' house, the three of us peered out of the windows at the establishment.

"So, here we are," Sam said, "George Phelps, seat twenty C."

Stepping out of the car, Dean shook his head going back over the possibilities, "Man, I don't care how strong you are. Even yolked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Unless you're a demon or whatever," I shrugged.

"Maybe this George guy is some kind of creature, maybe in human form." Sam suggested as he stepped out.

"Does that look like a creature's lair to you?" Dean asked as Sam turned to see a perfectly ordinary house decorated with several vibrant colored flowers and ivy. I blew out a breath shoving my hands within my pockets when we crossed the street. Stepping on the stoop, Dean knocked on the door and stepped back upon hearing the lock click. As the door opened, an older woman answered with a curious look on her face.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

"Mrs. Phelps?" Dean asked, "We're with Homeland Security, we were wanting to ask you a couple of questions pertaining to your husband, George."

_Inside_

Sitting across the table from Mrs. Phelps, Sam and Dean stared attentively at the window. I leaned forward from where I sat, seeing a photograph of a man who had a receding hairline and smiling.

I looked up at Mrs. Phelps, "This is your late husband?"

She looked over to the photo of her late husband, a look of grief passing over her face, "Yes, that was my George."

"And you said he was a...Dentist?" Dean asked, earning a slight nod from Mrs. Phelps.

"_Mhmm, _he was headed to a convention in Denver," she replied, "Do you know he was petrified to fly?" Her eyes cast down at her lap, "For him to go like that…"

"How long were you married?" Sam asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"Thirteen years," Mrs. Phelps replied.

Sam nodded, "In all that time, did you ever notice anything… strange about him… anything out of the ordinary?"

We sat in silence while the widowed woman fell silent in thought, then looked at us, "Well… uh, he had acid reflux," she replied innocently, "if that's what you mean."

Sam and Dean shared a look. I smiled sweetly, "Thank you, Mrs. Phelps for your time. You helped out a lot." I gave the two men a quick glance, "We'll be on our way."

She nodded, "You're welcome."

Walking down the stairs out front, I ran my hands through my hair as Dean and Sam walked in front of me.

"I mean, if it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense." Sam said.

"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified," I said, taking a step onto the sidewalk.

Dean nodded in agreement, "What we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out that wreckage."

Sam looked at his brother with an uneasy glint in his eyes, "Okay. But if we're gonna go that route; we'd better look the part."

_Mort's For Style-Suit rental_

Sam and Dean stepped out of the suit rental shop dressed in fresh black suits, white shirts, and black ties. I gave them an amused toothy grin that was almost deemed salacious as I eyed the both of them. Amusingly, they looked like they were going to prom and from the look on Dean's face; I'm sure he felt like it.

"Man, I feel like one of the Blue's Brothers," he whined out, looking to me for my opinion.

Taking a step closer to him, I fixed his tie and smiled up at him, "No you don't," I replied, giving him a soft kiss of reassurance, "To me, a suit is what lingerie is for you." Dean straightened up with his infamous grin, his chest already puffing out at my words. In truth, Dean looked incredibly good. So good, it was almost illegal.

"Really?" Dean asked with a grin taking place on his handsome visage.

Sam rolled his eyes, "No, you look like a seven grader going to his first dance."

Instantaneously, Dean crumpled and looked down at himself once again, "I _hate _this thing!" He hissed out vehemently.

I frowned, throwing Sam a heated look, as he shrugged with a smug grin on his face, "Hey," I said, "You want into this warehouse or not?"

With a deep frown, Dean stared into my eyes with those glorious hazel eyes of his and nodded. He kissed me once again as we got into the Impala, Sam already sitting shotgun.

"So, tell me again why you're not dressed in a monkey suit too?" He asked, turning the rearview mirror in my direction.

I grinned, "'Cause I get to be the getaway driver."

Dean cringed visibly from in front, "Oh, I'm so sorry, baby." He said, stroking the Impala's dashboard. I arched a brow at him.

"Way to strike down a girl's ego, Dean." I spoke dryly.

"I know how you treat her," Dean shot back incredulously.

I blinked, "I'm not _that_ bad."

"You've shot out the windows at _least_ thirteen times!" He stated.

"Savin' yours, dad's, and Sammy's asses," I quipped, looking at my nails casually, "And like you haven't?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak, then shut it, then opened it again, "You've wrecked her three times."

"You've done it more than me," I replied, tilting my head, "If not worse."

He pursed his lips in distaste, "You…" he hesitated, stumped, "You, uh…"

I leaned forward, brows raising as I waited for another answer, "I, what?"

"Shut up," Dean replied, before giving the car another sorrowful look as he put the car in reverse, then pulled out. Sam, by this time, was laughing at Dean's defeat. I pursed my lips in satisfaction, and folded my arms across my chest.

_NTSB Warehouse_

I watched from the backseat as Dean and Sam clad in black suits walked into the warehouse from a distance. A few moments had passed by before I slowly climbed in the front seat, readying myself in case a bump was to arise. The minutes ticked by ever so slowly when my inconsistent self-Ramblings turned into a full blown concert in which Queen's _Bohemian_ _Rhapsody_ had taken the spotlight and my mediocre air-drumming was at its peak.

Glancing over, I noticed a shiny black, government issue Chevy Tahoe is cruising in. My heart spiked upon seeing two black suited men step out from the SUV.

_Shit._

I pulled out my phone, quickly scrolling through my speed-dial to Dean's number. Hitting the green button, I put the device to my ear and heard it ringing.

_One ring… Two rings_, "_Hey._"

"Hey," I replied, "You have two suits on a collision course, so if you and Sammy want to spend time behind bars, I highly suggest that you to hightail it out of there."

I heard Dean curse, "Alright, see you soon."

Hanging up the phone, I reached for the keys and turned them in the ignition upon seeing Sam and Dean rounding the back of the warehouse walking casually until an alarm blared across the premises. Both men's eyes grew wide as they sprinted towards the gate, pulling off their jackets in the process before they slung them over the barbwire and climbed over. Reaching back to retrieve his jacket, Dean quickly ran to the passenger side and climbed in, followed by Sam in the backseat.

"Well, these monkey suits do come in handy!" Dean laughed out with a wide grin.

By this time people were mobilizing all over the compound, though, they were mainly heading inside as I put the Impala in gear and tore off away from the warehouse to avoid unwanted attention and detection.

_Airport-Jerry's Office_

Peering through the microscope, my eyes flickered across the yellow granules that Dean and Sam had extracted from the wreckage site. With a purse of my lips, I glanced between the slide in the microscope to the screen that replicated what the microscope saw to ensure what I was looking at. Scrambling through years of biology, chemistry, and physics classes from my days in high school, I nodded to myself, sure of what I saw.

"This stuff's covered in sulfur," I announced, peering up at Jerry, Sam, and Dean.

"You're sure?" Sam asked, earning an unamused look from me.

"Am I sure," I stated dryly, "Take a look for yourself." Jerry was about to speak until loud banging sounds emitted from outside the office, followed by a man shouting out, "You effin' piece of crap…!"

An irritated look graced the man's face, "If you guys will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire."

We all nodded as Jerry left, closing the door behind him. Dean stepped over to where I stood, and peered into the microscope at the granules of sulfur. Outside, we heard Jerry yelling at the man.

"Hey. Einstein. Yeah, you. What the heck you doing? Put the wrench down-!"

Ignoring the escapades, Dean hummed thoughtfully, "You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue."

"Demonic possession?" Sam asked.

I shrugged, "It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch."

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible," Dean replied before shivering, "This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup."

"I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?" I asked, shaking my head at the implications.

"You ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked us.

Dean and I shook our heads in unison, "Never," Dean replied with certainty in his voice.

_Motel_

Sam, Dean, and I sharing a room together meant that room was home base for all research, day or night. On one bed, Sam sat staring intently at his laptop screen with papers strewn out behind him on the bed while in the other, Dean sat reading a book from the stack on the other bed as I tacked up another piece of paper to the collection I had on the wall. There were several printed off images of demonic entities taking place amongst the vast pages of articles found related to what we were searching for. With a frown, I found myself staring at the sketches and paintings, silently mulling over several possibilities.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right?" Sam spoke, looking from Dean to me in search of an answer, "I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this."

I turned from the wall to face Dean and Sam, "Well, that's not exactly true," I said, "If I'm correct, and I'm pretty sure I am," I added with a smug look, "According to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters," I turned back to the sketches searching for one image in particular, "both natural and man-made."

Sam nodded as if a light bulb went off in his head, "Yeah, like, one causes earthquakes, other causes disease."

Dean blinked, "And this one causes plane crashes?" Sam and I nodded shortly after he stood up, "Alright, so what?" He closed the book in his hand, tossing it onto the bed, "We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah," I nodded in confirmation, looking to Sam.

"You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam asked, earning a snort from Dean, who turned away from our view began pacing in the gap between the two beds. I looked to Sam with a curious look earning a shrug from him.

"What?" I asked.

Dean shook his head, uneasiness in his voice, "I don't know. This isn't our normal gig." He turned to face us again, "I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake."

I looked down, running my fingers through my tangled hair, "This is big," I agreed quietly. Part of me was super uneasy about fooling with demons, granted, there was nothing easy about vanquishing them, nor were there anything easy about looking at them. I shivered out of memory, leaning my body against the wall, feeling the cool plaster against my arms and forehead.

Silence had fallen and I squeezed my eyes shut. I never felt so lost or panicked about a job at all. "I wish Dad was here," I admitted, peering up at Dean and Sam with tears in my eyes, earning the same look from both of them, though Sam's was of worry and Dean's was of doubt and insecurity. Upon seeing the teary eyed look from me, Dean crossed the room to where I was at and pulled me into a reassuring embrace, kissing me softly on the lips and forehead where they firmly stayed, "Yeah, me too." He murmured, glancing up at the ceiling, then to Sam, whose worried expression firmly stayed in place.

Deep inside, I knew Dean was riding the fence with me, but I wasn't so sure how close he was to falling off into a state of panic. The calm exterior of Dean Winchester was an expert disguise, though his eyes told a completely different story and I was sure of it. In our moment of silence, I felt the vibrating sensation of his cell phone against my belly before Metallica began to play. Pulling away slightly, Dean reached into his pocket and answered.

"Hello?" He asked. From the close proximity that he and I were in, I could clearly hear the muffled voice of Jerry, "Oh, hey, Jerry." Dean grew silent, as I strained my ears to hear the grim news of Jerry's pilot friend, Chuck Lambert dying. A concerned look crossed Dean's visage, "Wha—Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?" He took a step away from me just as Jerry began to explain what had happened. I silently cursed wanting to hear it, knowing Sam was curious as to know what is happening as well. I watched intently as Dean asked where the accident happened until a smug look flashed across his once concerned face, "I'll try to ignore the irony in that." Guessing Jerry didn't understand what Dean said, he shook his head, "Nothing. Jerry, hang in there alright? We'll catch up with you soon."

He hung up, looking at the both of us.

"Another crash?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," he confirmed, "Let's go."

"Where?" I asked.

Dean looked at me, "Nazareth."

_Nazareth_

Fifty-five minutes had gone by rather quickly due to Dean's excessive speeding, shaving ten minutes off a would-be hour drive. I glanced at a green sign stating Nazareth was three miles out as it whizzed by before seeing the plume of black smoke in the distance. Nazareth was a quaint little town, nestled between mountains and such. Not precisely nestled like some places in West Virginia, but they were close enough.

Parking a ways away from the wreckage, we made short work of finding whatever downed the small aircraft. With EMFs in tow, Dean had found the same yellow residue like last time.

_Jerry's Office_

Jerry stood over the microscope peering in with Dean behind him, arms crossed and expectant of what Jerry concluded from the newly collected residue. Despite my hundreds of attempts of persuading the thick-skulled man that it was sulfur, he had to make one hundred percent sure.

"Let me guess, sulfur?" Dean asked almost impatiently.

Jerry looked up at us with a nod to confirm, Dean's suspicions. A sour look graced Dean's face.

"Well, that's great." He grumbled out, "Alright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck," I began, my eyes flicking between Sam and Dean, "if that's the case, that would be the good news."

Dean furrowed his brows, "What's the bad news?"

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight. And get this, so did flight 2485." Sam added.

"Forty minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry asked.

"It's biblical numerology," Dean explained, staring at me. "You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death."

"Abigail and I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in." Sam furthered his explanation as well. Like the saying, if the shoe fits, lace the bitch up and wear it.

"Any survivors?" Dean asked. I shook my head, almost in disappointment.

"No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason." I replied.

"On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP Said?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded, "No survivors," he replied before he fell silent in thought, "It's going after all the survivors." He said as he began to pace, "It's trying to finish the job."

_On the road_

With Dean driving, Sam and I were on our cell phones speaking to the remainder of Flight 2485's survivors in an attempt to dissuade them from stepping foot on an airplane anytime soon. Rush's _Working Man_ played lowly on the radio as I hung up from another successful phone call, seeing Sam finishing up his as well.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey." He concluded, "And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." Sam hung up his cell phone as well, then looked over the crossed out names from the survivor list, "Alright, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway."

I chewed on my cell phone antennae, "They're not flyin' anytime soon."

Dean nodded approvingly, "So our only wild card is the flight attendant Amanda Walker."

"Right," Sam replied.

"Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm," I stated, "It's her first night back on the job."

I heard Dean blow out, "That sounds like just our luck." He breathed out in irritation.

Sam looked over at his brother, "Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel."

Not looking at him, Dean's eyes held fast on the darkened road, "Call Amanda's cell phone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass." He instructed.

I frowned at him, "I've left her _three_ voicemail messages, Dean. She must have her cell phone off."

Sam shook his head up front, "God, we're never gonna make it."

Dean glanced to the both of us, "We'll make it." As he said that, the engine roared louder, knowing that Dean had floored it. I was growing uneasy with each passing second, Dean and Sam seemed to be as well. I bit my lip.

_Airport_

Finally making it to the airport with thirty minutes to spare, the three of us wasted no time and jumped out of the Impala. Dean had rushed out, stopping a little ways once he noticed that we weren't moving.

"What?" He asked as Sam arched a brow at him, tossing my pistols into the trunk after I had wrapped them in one of the blankets.

"Really, Dean? We're about to walk into an airport and you're going in like Rambo." I stated earning a groan from Dean and came back, pulling his weapons out, followed by several knives and whatnot before placing them in the trunk as well, "This stinks," he grumped out, "I feel naked."

I shrugged sympathetically at him, exchanging an amused glance with Sam as we all rushed into the crowded building and over to the departure board to see if the plane had left. I pointed to the flight number.

"There," I announced quickly, "Flight four-two-four. They're boarding in thirty minutes."

With a curt nod, Dean looked around, "Okay. We still have some cards to play." He stated casually, "We need to find a phone." Eyeing a courtesy phone a little ways off, he jogged over to it and picked it up, "Hi. Gate thirteen." He paused, "I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on flight, um...Flight four-two-four."

Seconds passed slowly hearing the announcement go over the intercom system asking for Amanda Walker to a courtesy phone. While we waited, Dean gave us an anxious look until he almost jumped, "Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here." I watched beside Sam as Dean inclined his head, reassuring the presumably worried girl about her sister being 'injured'. We watched on as he paused, his eyes widening as if he got caught in his lie. Dean then smiled sheepishly, "Guilty as charged." Sam walked on the other side of him to hear what Amanda was saying.

"He's really sorry," Dean continued, "Yes, but...He really needs to see you tonight, so—…" he said rather quickly with panic in his voice, "Don't be like that. Come on. The guy's a mess. Really. It's pathetic." I heard him add with a lighthearted chuckle, "Oh yeah." After a moment he became distressed again, "No, no. Wait, Amanda, Amanda!"

Dean hung up the phone roughly, "Damn it, so close!"

_Thank You for flying United Britannia Airlines_, a voice came across the intercoms. Sam and I glanced at each other, hopefully the same light bulb had gone off. Dean looked between us.

"What? I know you two are thinking something." He stated.

Sam looked at him, "Alright, it's time for plan B." Our brother and my boyfriend looked at us lost.

"We're getting on that plane." I stated, seeing him still and the color drain from his face.

"Whoa, whoa, just—just hold on a second," Dean said quickly, raising his hand at us.

Sam stared at Dean, "That plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash."

He grimaced, still not moving a muscle, "I know."

I nodded, "Okay, so, we're gettin' on the plane. We need to find that demon and exorcise it." I began to turn, "I'll get the tickets."

Sam nodded in agreement, "Dean and I will get whatever we can out of the trunk that can make it through security."

"We'll meet back here in _five_ minutes." I said sternly, looking at each man. Seeing a thin sheet of sweat coat Dean's face. He looked absolutely terrified. Sam and I looked at him.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

Dean tilted his head, "No, not really."

"What? What's wrong?" I asked, growing concerned.

Dean shifted anxiously, "Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh..."

"Flying?" Sam and I asked in unison, giving each other an awkward glance.

"It's never really been an issue until now," He hissed out, waving his arms a bit.

An amused smirk graced my lips "You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Abigail?" I glanced at Sam, then back to Dean seeing his eyes widen with fear.

Sam paused, placing his hand on his chin in thought. Dean and I stood there, watching him. Well… I stood there, Dean just fidgeted. Another second passed as Sam looked at us with a shrug, "Alright. Uh, Abigail and I will go."

Dean's eyes widened even more, "What?" He asked, glancing wildly between us both.

"We can do this one on our own," I said reassuringly.

"What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane's gonna crash." Dean said frantically.

"Dean, we can do it together, or I can do this one with Abigail. I don't see a third option, here." Sam said, giving Dean no ultimatum.

"Come on!" He groaned out at Sam, who looked away casually, then to me, as I looked up at the ceiling, "Abs, really?" I heard him whine out. I smirked when he blew out another irritated, yet frantic breath, seeing there were no other ways out of it, "Man..."

Sam and I walked together with amused smirks on our faces.

_Flight 424_

I loved flying. I loved every second of it, the bumps, jerks, and that awkward feeling you got every time you hit a bump just right that sent your stomach into your throat and you had to instantly pee. My parents almost always chose to go on jobs via air, stateside or internationally. It was a great feeling. Sitting between Dean and Sam; Dean sitting on the aisle while Sam sat next to the window, I watched Dean with amusement upon feeling the aircraft jerk suddenly after the pilot announced something. My lips stretched out into a grin.

Anxiously, Dean's eyes scanned the safety card describing what to do in case of an emergency landing and whatnot. Sam would glance at him every now and then with a smirk.

"Just try to relax," Sam stated.

The safety card went down as Dean snapped his head at Sam with a deep frown, "Just try to shut up." He snapped as I snickered in Sam's direction. Upon take-off, Dean was white-knuckling the seat's plastic arm as well as mine for dear life, jumping at every rumble, pop, jerk the plane had to offer. I didn't think I'd get so much amusement out of my oh-so-fearless boyfriend, the great Dean Winchester. I glanced over to Sam, who was smirking at his brother.

As soon as the plane had taken off, the timer was set for forty-five minutes. Sam and I were sitting relatively calm, talking about random things and laughing over distant memories of yesteryear while Dean leaned back in his chair, still white-knuckling the chair and my hand-that had long since gone numb-and humming a certain Metallica song. Sam arched a brow, looking over at him.

"Are you humming Metallica?" I asked Dean, running my fingertips lightly against his hand in a calming manner.

He glanced at me with fear swirling in his eyes, "Calms me down."

"Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused." Sam assured.

"Okay," he breathed out, making an effort to calm himself down. Squeezing his eyes shut as I continued to stroke his hand with my fingertips.

"I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism." Sam continued in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, on a crowded plane," Dean replied dryly, "That's gonna be easy." His voice was coated in thick sarcasm.

"Just take it one step at a time, alright?" I said with a soft smile, my amusement was now dwindled down by the announcement of how much time was gone. Feeling Dean's grip on my hand loosen by a smidge, I glanced around my surroundings at the nearby passengers, "Now, who is it possessin'?"

"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness," Dean began, "you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through." I smiled at Dean as he began to overcome his irrational fear, "Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

Sam nodded, glancing around as well, "Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up."

Dean nodded, _"Mhmm._" A rather attractive flight attendant with blonde hair passed by our seats, he looked up at her, "Excuse me," he said, stopping her. She smiled down at him, "Are you Amanda?"

The blonde smiled gently at him, "No, I'm not."

Dean smiled apologetically, "Oh, my mistake." For the first time in a long while, Dean Winchester did not flirt with an attractive woman. I sat there beside him, looking from him to the walking flight attendant, then back to him—flabbergasted. He must be really scared to not flirt with something with two legs and a vagina.

I took note of his breathing. It was still considerably fast, but nothing like it was. He had calmed down, and for that feat, I was proud of him. Taking a moment, I gently placed a hand on the left side of his face. He slowly moved his head to look at me, taking the opportunity to place a soft, reassuring kiss upon his lips. Feeling his body loosen up, he kissed back rather frantically before he pulled back, staring into my eyes with an apologetic look.

"It's okay," I whispered to him.

He nodded slowly, clasping my hand and gave it a soft, yet firm, squeeze. Dean sighed, before leaning over his seat to look at the back of the plane seeing another blonde. Sitting in his seat, he turned towards us, "Alright, well that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state."

Sam looked at him, "What if she's already possessed?"

"There's ways to test that," Dean said, leaning forward and reached for the duffel bag in front of him, bringing out a Virgin Mary-shaped bottle of water with a grin, "I brought holy water."

Sam frowned, "No." He snatched the bottle from Dean, tucking it into his hoodie earning a bewildered look from Dean.

"I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God." I added, trying to defuse an oncoming argument between brothers.

Dean nodded, "Oh. Nice." He began to stand up.

"Hey," Sam said quickly as Dean turned to him.

"What?"

"Say it in Latin." Sam reminded him.

Dean placed a hand on his chest in mock-exasperation, "I know." He answered quickly, heading up the aisle.

I jumped, "Hey!" I half-way yelled and whispered to Dean, who grumbled and spun around.

"What?!" He snapped.

I smiled sheepishly at him, "Uh, in Latin, it's _Christo_."

"Dude, I know! I'm not an idiot!" He countered before making his way to the back of the plane while Sam and I watched on as he thumped into a seat after the plane shook. I heard him whine something out upon impact. Sitting in our seats, Sam and I waited. Moments ticked by as Dean made his way back with a sigh, plopping back into his seat, "Well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet."

I blinked, "You said, _Christo?_"

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

"And?" Sam urged.

He narrowed his eyes at us, "There's no demon in her. There's no demon _getting _in her."

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone. Anywhere." I murmured as the plane began to shake once again from turbulence.

"Come on! That can't be normal!" Dean said, obviously freaked out, instantly gripping the seat.

I placed my hand on his, "Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence."

Dean snapped his head at me, "Abigail, this plane is going to crash, okay?" He hissed out, "So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four."

I steeled at Dean's curtness towards me, "You need to calm down," I said lowly to the point where it rumbled in my throat.

"Well, I'm sorry I can't." He replied, a hidden apology showing in his eyes.

Sam shook his head at him, "Yes, you can."

"Dude, stow the touchy-feel, self-help yoga crap," Dean lashed out at Sam this time, "it's not helping."

Sam leaned over me, his eyes, steeling over much like John's whenever he chewed us out, "Listen, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down." He said firmly, "Right now."

Dean and I looked at Sam with wide eyes. _Where did that come from?_

Reconciling, Dean took in a long, deep breath, then slowly let it out.

Sam nodded, "Good. Now, Abigail found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work."

"The Rituale Romanum," I stated, knowing my drawl butchered the elegant words.

Dean nodded, "What do we have to do?"

Sam flipped to the exorcism in John's journal, "It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."

"_More_ powerful?" Dean asked, blinking several times, trying to mull over what Sam had said.

I nodded, "Yeah, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore," I explained casually, "It can wreak havoc on its own."

Dean gaped at me, "Oh, and why is that a good thing?"

Looking at the distressed man, I smirked, "Because the second part sends the bastard back to hell. And he stays."

Dean nodded, "First things first, we got to find it."

Sam and I nodded.

Getting out of his seat with his 'walkman' in tow, Dean slowly walked up the aisle with his EMF meter, ignoring the odd looks from the passengers around him. I remained in my seat when Sam got up, patting my shoulder as he left and came up behind his brother, scaring him. I snickered until the copilot had stepped out of the bathroom ahead.

My breath hitched in my throat upon seeing the creature residing in him. The color in my face drained as quickly as it stalked out.

_How did I not see that?!_ I screeched out in my mind. In no time, I was on my feet and making my way to where Dean and Sam stood in the aisle. Dean caught sight of me and turned, followed by Sam.

"What? What is it?" Sam asked, looking at me. My eyes stayed on the copilot, Dean catches on and looked at him as well.

My breathing shuddered, "_Christo_."

I watched the creature stiffen and slowly turned, staring back at us. What Dean and Sam saw was simply the copilot with coal-black eyes. What I saw would deem any horror movie ever made a laughable comedy flick. Yellow teeth bared back at me in a snarl before the creature went back into the cockpit. Sam and Dean looked at me, unnerved.

"Son of a bitch," Dean cursed from beside me, turning to look at the back of the plane to where Amanda Walker was at. Without hesitating, he began to make his way to the back.

"_Dean_, she isn't going to believe us," I told him, glancing at the blonde.

"Twelve minutes!" He said frantically as we reached the back.

Amanda spotted us "Oh, hi," she greeted us with a smile, "Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope."

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about." He said as Sam closed the curtain. Amanda gave us a wary look at the gesture.

"Um, okay. What can I do for you?"

"Alright, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole "the truth is out there" speech right now." Dean spoke quickly.

"Alright, look, we know you were on flight 2485." Sam said.

Amanda's smile disappeared, "Who are you guys?"

"Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure." I added calmly; though my still paled face clearly said otherwise.

Dean casts me a wary glance, "We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now."

Amanda backed up, unnerved from the frightening news, "I'm sorry, I—I'm very busy. I have to go back—," she tried to brush past Dean to go back to work, or possibly contact some form of authorities on board.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second." He said quickly, "I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me, uh...The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead."

The flight attendant's face paled, "Wait. What? What, Chuck is dead?"

"He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?"

She stuttered, in search for words.

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too." Sam stated with urgency.

I glanced over my shoulder towards the cockpit, then back to Amanda, "You have to believe us."

"On...on 2485, there was this man. He...Had these eyes." Amanda recalled, looking at us with wide eyes.

I nodded, "Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about."

Amanda shook her head, "I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?"

Dean stepped closer to her, "Okay. The copilot, we need you to bring him back here."

She gave him a skeptical glance, "Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?"

"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—?" Amanda asked.

Sam urged her, "Do whatever it takes. Tell him, there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit."

"Do you know that I could lose my job if you—," she said as Dean cut her off.

"Okay, well you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out." He said sternly.

For a moment, she hesitated and I held my breath. Finally, Amanda nodded, "Okay." She took a deep breath in order to collect herself before she went to the front, knocking on the door to the cockpit.

I watched quietly when Sam pulled the bottle of holy water from his hoodie while Dean pulled the journal, handing it to me. I opened it to the exorcism just as the copilot stepped into the small area. Instantly, I began to tremble, being this close to the demon. I _so_ wasn't used to this. I fumbled with the pages.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" It growled out.

Dean blindsided the copilot/demon, knocking him down and pinned him, placing duct tape over his mouth. Amanda stared at Dean with a gaping mouth.

"Wait. What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him." She said frantically.

He looked up at her, breathing hard against the struggling creature, "We are gonna talk to him." He took the holy water from Sam, splashing the liquid onto the copilot/demon's shirt, the sound of sizzling emitting when his shirt ate away like acid.

"Oh, my god. What's wrong with him?" Amanda breathed out, freaked.

I stood, trembling and waiting to begin, as well as controlling my breathing. I glanced at Sam, who nodded.

"Look," he began calmly, "We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain." Sam instructed.

Amanda looked between the three of us, "Well, I don't underst—I don't know,"

Sam held her shoulders, "Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that? Amanda?"

Blinking wildly, she nodded, "Okay. Okay."

Dean grunted, glancing up at me, against the struggling demon, "Hurry up, Abigail. I don't know how much longer I can hold him."

I inhaled deeply, "_Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino_—," The next thing I knew the wind got knocked out of me when the demon had broken free of Dean's hold momentarily. Sam and Dean were on him, subduing the creature quickly. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, continuing the ritual. Once again, the demon had broken free of Dean and Sam's grasp, pulling off the tape and grabbed Sam by the collar.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend!" He snarled out, "She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!" Sam and I stared at the creature, stunned when Dean recovered from the hit.

"Sam! Abigail!" He snapped out.

I looked at Dean, nodding and picked up from where I left off. Sam blinked, and helped his brother restrain the demon once again until it kicked me in the legs, sending me to the floor where I dropped the book.

Dean looked at me with wide eyes.

Sam pinned his weight on the creature, "I got him."

The copilot's body arched in an unnatural angle when a plume of black smoke exited his mouth and into a vent. Dean and Sam slowly stood up, looking around the cabin wildly.

"Where'd it go?" Sam asked.

"It's in the plane," Dean answered, "Abs, hurry up. We got to finish it." I looked around the floor for the journal and cursed.

The two men looked at me, "What?"

"I dropped the damned book!" I hissed out, rising to my feet. Sam stopped me.

"I'll get it. Stay here." Sam instructed, that look of resolution simmering in his eyes. Saying nothing, I merely nodded just as the plane dipped and heaved violently, throwing Sam forward into the cabin with the passengers. Dean splayed himself against an exit door, _screaming_. As in, little girl scream. I had steadied myself, staring at Dean with wide eyes. He stared back at me, paler than a sheet of paper; still screaming.

"Sammy!" I yelled out over the screams and loud howling of the wind from outside of the plane, "Hurry up!" Another jolt and I felt myself lunge forward violently, feeling Dean catch me in the process. He wrapped his arms around me tightly, eyes squeezed shut in fear. Amongst the chaos, I could feel his heart hammering in his chest. It honestly felt like an eternity when the plane slowly leveled itself out.

By this time, my heart was hammering in my chest. Dean's tight grip around me loosened, though he stepped back to inspect me with wide eyes and trembling hands. I nodded in silence, tears welling up in my eyes when he kissed me deeply. He broke it, eyes staring into mine, "I love you."

I nodded, "I love you too, Dean." I blew out a shaky breath, "Sammy did it."

The two of us poked our heads out from behind the curtain, seeing the passengers asking each other if they were alright. Sam rose to his feet in the aisle before he turned to us, smiling seeing that we were unscathed and we smiled back. He would've been amused hearing Dean emitting a very emasculating, yet very girlish scream. But, now wasn't the time to bring that up.

Jesus Christ. I wanted off this plane probably as bad as Dean, and it couldn't have landed any sooner.

Doing an emergency landing, paramedics were helping people off the plane and into the terminal. One paramedic had me go down the inflatable slides. Reaching the bottom, I slowly stood up, feeling my knees go weak nor did I feel good. All I know is that it felt _great _to be on solid ground. Standing on the tarmac, I awaited Dean and Sam, who were approaching me. Dean, however, scooped me up in his arms and twirled me around in a tight embrace, allowing my feet to touch the ground as he planted a deep kiss, bowing me backwards.

Sam rolled his eyes at us, though from the look on his face, he was glad that we, along with everyone else, made it out alright. Something about him wasn't alright though. He seemed unnerved.

Sam, Dean and I stood off to the sidelines as various uniformed agents of all sorts rushed by us. The copilot, who was sitting in a wheelchair with a blanket wrapped around him, looked up at the FAA agent bewildered, catching snippets of the questioning.

"Sir, can you tell me what happened?" The agent asked him.

The copilot shook his head, "I don't know," he answered, "I was walking through the airport, then it all goes blank. I don't even remember getting on the plane."

In front of us, Amanda was being questioned by another agent, FBI from the looks of it.

"Anything else?" He asked.

Amanda shook her head, "No, that's all." She looked away from him, spotting us and mouthed, _Thank you_. Not speaking, we nodded.

Dean wrapped his arm around my shoulder, "Let's get out of here."

Not hesitating, we headed for the exit. Sam and I were silent for different reasons. He nudged me.

"You okay?" He asked me. I looked at him with a small smile.

"Yeah," I replied, "I'm alright. Kinda put off of planes for the time bein'." I cracked a smile at him and he gave me a sour look before glancing ahead to Sam.

"Hey." Dean called out. Sam stopped and turned, "Are _you_ okay?"

Sam looked so conflicted, "It knew about Jessica."

Dean let his arm fall from my shoulders as he approached his brother, placing a hand on his, "Sam, these things, they," he shook his head, "they read minds. They _lie_. Alright? That's all it was."

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

I came up to my not-so-little brother, wrapping my arms around his waist, "Come on." I said with a smile, "I have some beef to tell you." Dean blinked at me, then pursed his lips.

"Oh, you better not tell him what I think you're gonna tell him!" He threatened me.

Sam arched his brow, "What?"

"Abigail!" Dean growled.

I grinned wickedly at him, patting Sam's back, "Sammy-boy, Dean here is quite the soprano, if you catch my drift." Dean gaped, getting red in the face. Sam's brows rose, looking over at his older brother, "I mean, with a little work, I think we can get him into the opera." Sam began laughing, wrapping his arm around me as we all walked into the terminal to retrieve us a rental car, since flying was now out of the question.

_Airport_

Jerry stood in front of us with a grateful look in his eyes, "Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do." He looked to each of us, "A lot of people could have been killed." Reaching out his hand, Dean and Sam each returned the favor shaking it, as he then pulled me into an embrace, "Take care of yourself, Abigail. You couldn't have asked for any better people."

I smiled, "I know," looking over my shoulder at Dean and Sam, I then grinned, "And I think they know too." I stepped back in between Sam and Dean, who had wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Your Dad's gonna be real proud," he stated.

Sam nodded, "We'll see you around, Jerry."

Not saying a word, Dean and I turned to leave, then stopped, "You know, Jerry." Dean began, looking at him.

"Yeah." He replied.

"I meant to ask you, how did you get my cell phone number, anyway? I've only had it for like, six months."

"Your dad gave it to me," Jerry replied.

Our mouths dropped. _What? When?_

"What?" Sam and I asked in unison.

Dean furrowed his brows, "When did you talk to him?"

Jerry shrugged sheepishly, "I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call." He nodded to us again, "Thanks again, guys." He then turned, leaving us behind to dwell on the news of our dad.

We were parked just outside the airport access, Sam, Dean, and I leaning against the Impala.

Sam shook his head, fuming, "This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like, fifty times. It's been out of service."

I looked to Dean quietly as he dialed John's number. He then put it on speakerphone for us to hear. Upon hearing John's voice, tears began to well in my eyes, "_This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help._" By the time the recording had ended, I was wiping tears away. Saying nothing and obviously angered, Sam got in the car. Dean pulled me into an embrace, resting his head against mine.

"We're going to find, Dad." He assured me.

"I know we are." I whispered. Dean nodded, looking me up and down, then stepped back, holding open the driver side door for me. Sliding in the middle, Dean got in after me, turning the ignition. As the Impala roared to life, we drove off in silence, music beginning to play across the radio.

* * *

**Hope you guys enjoyed it! I may or may not do Bloody Mary, but if ya'll would like for me to, send me some ideas! My reason for this is that I don't really want that chapter (or any chapter) become anti-climactic or awkward. I may even do this as a flashback! Who knows? But everyone is more than welcome to throw out suggestions/requests/tips! (:**


	8. West Virginia, Mountain Momma

**Hello loves! I decided ****_not_**** to post Bloody Mary. I believe it will come back as a flashback at some point in the series given if I can come up with ideas for it. This chapter however, is 100% free-handed and I was winging it. So please, please, ****_please_**** don't beat me if Dean or Sam didn't come off as their character. I tried, I really did.**

**I just want to forewarn everyone that there ****_is_**** some smut action within this chapter. This is not a mandatory chapter, you ****_can_**** skip it when I come out with the next one. And I apologize for future references if the scene comes off as awkward or anything. I have been out of the loop for. A. While.**

**Just a reminder, I accept any form of requests, suggestions, tips, etc. for future chapters! So if you have an idea, a scene from a show/movie that you'd love to see Dean and Miss Abigail re-enact, you know what to do! (;**

**So if there is anything wrong, awkward, anything like that, just let me know!**

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the ****_Supernatural_**** fanchise. This chapter, Abigail, and future non-canon characters will most likely be mine. **

**Please enjoy! (:**

* * *

_On the highway_

_December 19th, 2005_

It had been a couple of weeks since the incident on Flight 424. Sam and I have teased Dean nonstop over his performance of 'singing soprano', though I equally got backlash of having rabies much to my chagrin. Jerry had been our only _new_ lead on our Dad, making tensions rise between Sam and Dean. Sometimes it would fall back and cause tensions between Dean and me as well. Living with two temperamental men was rough. It made PMS seem like a godsend at times.

I still didn't sleep well. Mostly the nightmares were just freaky, unrealistic dreams of unholy alliances, hell on earth; the kind of dreams you got when you ate the wrong stuff before bed. A frown pulled at my lips, bringing my thumb to my mouth as I chewed the skin around my nail watching the flat, arid landscape of Arizona fly by in silence. Dean didn't have the music on, which was a first, and Sam wasn't complaining. It was just, quiet. I think all of us were bored out of our minds, worried, and wished something would just fall into our hands.

My cell phone buzzed all of a sudden bringing me out of my thoughts as my _Enter Sandman_ ringtone came to life. Sam and Dean both looked to me with curiosity as I fumbled in the footboard, pulling it out of my jacket pocket and glanced at the number. I frowned at it, not recognizing the number.

"Hel-_lo_?" I answered.

"'s this Abigail?" A gruff, drawl asked, "Abigail Colt?"

I blinked a few times, taking the phone from my ear and looked at the number again, "Uh, _yeah_, but… how'd you get this number?" I asked, placing the phone to my ear again and looked to Dean, who was peering at me through the rearview. His brows were furrowed with concern as to wondering how someone had gotten a hold of my number.

The gruff voice chuckled, "You don't know who this is, do ya?"

"Not particularly, no." I admitted, feeling kind of bad about it.

"'s your uncle Charlie," the voice replied with a smile behind it, "Your daddy's brother?"

A grin played on my lips, making me sit up straighter in my seat, "_Charlie_?" I let out a genuine laugh of joy, "How the hell are ya?"

Charlie belly laughed on the other line, "I'm doing a'ight, Abby-girl. How've you been? Them Winchester boys treatin' you good?"

I rolled my eyes to no one in particular with a smile, "You know they are, Charlie."

"Good," he replied, "I'd hate for John to halfta hate me for beatin' on 'em."

I pulled my phone away from my ear, pressing the speakerphone, "You're on speakerphone, Charlie." I spoke a little louder than usual as I leaned forward to let Sam or Dean talk without having to yell. Dean, however just mouthed, _you have an uncle?_

I nodded. I never saw him so lost before.

"Oh, joy!" He replied with false-sarcasm. Sam smiled, twisting his body towards me.

"Hey Charlie," Sam said, "How've you been?"

"Who's speakin'?" Charlie asked.

"Sam?" He said, with a laugh. Dean kept glancing between Sam and me in confusion.

"_Oh_! Little Sammy! How the hell are ya?" Charlie shouted, thinking that he had to be loud. We winced a little bit.

Sam laughed, "I'm doing alright, you, uh, wouldn't happen to know if you saw Dad or anything would you?"

"John?" Charlie asked, humming in thought, "Yeah, now that I think of it… I think I saw him about two months or so ago, run into him on a hunt."

Dean, Sam, and I looked at each other, mouths opened in shock. _How did we not know this?!_

"Any reason you didn't call and tell me, Charlie?" I asked in shock.

The sound of Charlie blowing out a sigh crackled into the phone, "To be honest, Abby-girl, John asked me not to." I furrowed my brows at no one in particular, "He gave me your number and told me to call you, since your birthday is tomar' an all."

When Charlie had said that, I smacked my head against the back of the front seat remembering it was _my birthday_. How could I forget? Dean and Sam looked at me—Dean more so with the same look that he had forgotten as well, while Sam looked a little amused. They both knew I hated my birthday. To me, I just saw it as another day in a hunter's world. "You guys should ride up and stay a while if ye ain't busy." Charlie added.

I gazed at Sam and Dean seeking guidance. I didn't want a celebration, but if he knew something about Dad's whereabouts, it would help. They nodded, hopefully thinking the same thing.

"We've been in a rut for about two weeks; I don't see why we couldn't…" I began before being cut off.

"Great! You 'member where I live right?" He cut in without hesitation.

"Uh, yeah," I said slowly.

Charlie laughed, "You get here, you'll be in for a treat."

That's when I got worried, "Charlie, don't do anything for my birthday. _Please_." I groaned out, "It's just another day."

"Ah, nonsense, Abby," Charlie said, "You get up here, we'll do some pickin', singin', drinkin', and eatin' for sure. I haven't seen ye since you were eighteen, you're what now?"

I blew out a sigh, "Twenty-six."

"_Eight_ years, Abigail." He said in a state of awe, "Come up here and take a load off."

"Alright!" I said a little irritated and heard him laughing, "We're on our way."

"Great! Where ye at so I have an idea how long it'd be?"

I glanced up at Dean, "I, uh, think we're outside… Roswell?" Dean nodded, the look on his told me he was still trying to wrap his mind over me having an uncle and that he had seen our dad recently.

"You should be here in twenty-one hours, then with minimal stops, right?" He asked.

"Uh, yeah… We'll be there sometime tomorrow give or take. I'll see you then." I replied.

"Be careful, Abby-girl, don't get abducted or anythin'." I closed my phone with a sigh dropping it into my boot and reclined back in my seat. Sam and Dean had fallen silent. Someone knew and seen Dad, but didn't bother to call us? I felt bad enough that it was someone we knew, let alone it being my only living relative. Stepping foot in West Virginia was unsettling to me to a point. Seeing my family again made me flat out nervous.

"I can't believe Charlie saw Dad and didn't bother telling us," Sam stated in disbelief. He looked at me with confusion pooling in his eyes.

I shook my head in disbelief as well, "I don't know about you, but it just seems like Dad's not wanting us to find him." I flicked my hand, "I don't get that."

"Well, maybe he'll have some answers for us when we get there," Dean said, looking up through the rear view with a calm look. I knew he was agitated about the news, we all were. "Who is this Charlie anyways?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, giving Sam an amused look, "Charlie is my dad's twin." I answered.

"How does Sam know him and not me?" Dean asked with a frown.

"Because you were too busy doing that _five states, five days_ thing at the time and that was when I had Sam with me on a hunt," I replied seeing a look of guilt flash across his face. In reassurance, I placed my hand on his shoulders, applying a gentle squeeze. He brought a hand up to my left, squeezing mine in return. I think it wounded him not knowing my uncle or even knowing that I had one, while Sam did.

_West Virginia-Putnam County_

_December 20th, 2005_

Twenty-one hours were not only exhausting, it was boring. Around Saint Louis, Missouri, Dean and Sam had swapped out throughout the night due to Dean nearly falling asleep at the wheel. Outside of Charleston, Dean was fast asleep in the back seat with one arm wrapped around my thigh as I cradled his head in my lap running my fingers through his hair soothingly while I watched the various streetlights flash by. I yawned deeply, catching Sam's attention.

"Have you slept any?" Sam asked quietly, peering at me.

"I think three hours," I shrugged tiredly, "pretty good to me."

We ran through a patch of highway that wasn't illuminated with lights. The only light source being the lights on the dashboard, as it illuminated Sam's face casting an eerie glow. I heard him blow out a sigh, "Not good enough," he mumbled watching the road. Deep inside, I knew Sam was concerned about my sleeping habits. _I_ was concerned about my sleeping habits. I let out a soft sigh, looking down at my sleeping boyfriend quietly, I continued to stroke his hair.

"Sammy, I don't know what is going on with me," I admitted, "I can sleep well for a couple of days, then just like that, I can't sleep because I get so overwhelmed with these nightmares." I shook my head lightly, "And us going back into West Virginia? I'm nervous. I've tried to stay away from there because I don't want to remember it."Sam had stayed quiet, eyes frontward towards the road. The radio had been turned off long since Dean had dozed off. Leaning over, Sam reached out and switched it onto a country station.

"Hey," I started, seeing Sam glance up at me, "Do me a favor?"

"Sure," Sam replied.

"The next gas station you see, pull in and grab some food and some coffee if you don't care," I said, "I'm starving and I need coffee."

Sam chuckled, "Abigail, as much as coffee as you drink, it's beginning to sound like you have an addiction."

"Better than smoking." I retorted with a lopsided grin as Dean stirred, nuzzling my leg with the side of his face. I looked down at him with a soft smile when he flipped onto his back, bringing his left leg up and allowed his right leg to rest on the floorboard; crossing his arms. I gently brushed my fingers down his face feeling his stubble scratch against my fingertips. He leaned his head into my touch, slowly opening his eyes, looking up at me tiredly. I smiled sheepishly at him, "Hey, you."

He stared for a moment before a tired smile crossed his lips, "Hey you."

"I didn't wake you, did I?" I asked. Dean shook his head, continuing to stare up at me with those dazzling eyes of his, bringing up a hand caressing my face gently. Reba Macintire's rendition of _Fancy _began to play across the radio and I grinned, starting to sing along. Dean rolled his eyes playfully, pulling himself into a sitting position with a grunt.

"Eleven years and I _still_ don't have you sold on the oldies," Dean muttered, throwing me a wink as I playfully pushed him in mock offense. Sam rolled his eyes from up front, spotting a Speedway and flipped the blinker on. We pulled in beside a pump as we piled out, all stretching our legs and arms. I let out another yawn, closing the car door behind me, turning to look at Dean and Sam, credit card in hand, "You guys want anything? My treat."

Rounding the Impala, Dean came up to me, pulling me into his arms as he gave me a rather deep kiss, dipping me. It threw me off guard, resulting in me letting out a soft moan when we straightened up. He pulled away with a lustful glint in his eyes, and grinned at me, "Happy Birthday, babe," Dean said before turning. I stood by the Impala stunned, blinking like an idiot as he walked towards the convenience store holding my credit card up between his fingers, "And it's going to be _my _treat." He added.

I folded my arms into a pout, "But I wanted to buy."

Sam chuckled at me, getting the nozzle from the pump, "I thought you wanted me to get it."

"Yeah, but that was because I was kind being used as a pillow," I replied, running a hand through my hair, "You still remember where Charlie lives?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

I smirked, "Good, 'cause Dean will have us lost in no time."

Sam seemed a little aggravated about something. He glanced at me, "Abigail," he began, "Promise me you won't get mad at me after I say this."

Smiling softly, I nodded, "Promise."

"I don't think we should go to Charlie's," he said and I frowned, "Don't get me wrong, I like the guy and all, but…" he shook his head, "I think we should just skip it and look for Dad."

"Sam, that's why I want to go to Charlie's. He's the second person to see him and probably knows where Dad was heading to," I said, "I don't want no surprise parties, I don't want anything done for my birthday, 'cause I know that's what he's going to do." My gaze fell upon my hands, "I just want to find Dad and us to be a family again."

He looked down at the nozzle quietly, "I know…"

I tilted my head sideways at my brother, "Maybe get you started back in college again," I said, "Get you to be that big lawyer man."

Sam looked at me in awe, "You think I should go back?"

I shrugged, "I think you should do whatever you want," I looked at the familiar mountains of West Virginia as the sun rose; the sky a swirl of oranges, pinks, and blues, "Dean and I are too deep into the business, but you Sammy," I smiled at him, "you got out of the cycle. You still have a chance."

He smiled at me, looking back down, "Thanks… but, I don't know if I want to go back since…" he inhaled sharply at the memory of Jessica's death. I nodded, understanding; hearing the bell from the convenience store's door ring. I looked over my shoulder to see Dean walking out, holding two coffees, a bag of food, and a pop. He smiled, approaching us. Handing me one of the coffees, he handed Sam the other one. Sam nodded in thanks, taking the nozzle out of the Impala and placed it back onto the holder, noticing that he wasn't going to take anything out of the bag.

"You gonna eat with us or are you still tryin' to watch your girlish figure?" Dean asked, peeling open a small apple pie wrapper and took a large bite, making him look like a chipmunk. From the look he gave Dean, I sniggered.

"Guys, I'm not trying to watch anything," Sam tried to explain for the millionth time, "Besides, it's called being healthy. I don't see how you two are still able to run."

Dean and I exchanged a look, "I don't see anything wrong," I chirped, opening a bag of _Munchos_ and popped one of those delicious chips into my mouth with an audible crunch, followed by a large slug of coffee. Sam sighed at us with a shake of his head. I grinned at my brother. He was so moody.

_Charlie Colt's Home_

Dean stared in awe at the size of Charlie's plantation inspired home at the top of a steep mountain. It was just like my old place, though my house was more of a lodge. Pulling up the long driveway, we passed through the security gates that I knew were outlined in iron throughout the entire perimeter. Two large barns were on the property; one that had horses presumably, while the other was used for storage, that is if I remembered correctly. Barking was heard from two large dogs that had pit bull appearances cause Dean to squirm in the back seat beside me.

"I forget sometimes that you used to be loaded," Dean stated.

I arched a brow at him, "I'm _still_ loaded, Dean… I just don't have access to it since I'm dead and all." Sam pulled to a stop outside the house. I got out, looking at my uncle's place; feeling my heart start to pound in nervousness. Blowing out a breath, I told myself that I could do this. In no time, the smell of a barbeque greeted me; my stomach growling.

Sam looked at me in disbelief, "You're _still_ hungry?"

I shrugged innocently at Sam, hearing the front door open, "Abby-girl!"

My head turned to the source of my name and saw Charlie with a toothy and beardy grin. I grinned widely at him, "Charlie!" I said. He came down the steps, meeting me. Charlie placed his hands on my shoulders, looking at me with a smile.

"Lord girl, you've grown up on me," he said pulling me into a strong hug, "You look so much like Avery." He added softly.

I nodded, smiling sadly at him, "Thanks…" He stared at me for a long moment, then caught sight of Sam and Dean, as they stood by the Impala.

"Sammy! Dean!" Charlie said with a grin, "C'mere and let me look at you!"

Sam and Dean exchanged a confused glance, before approaching us. Charlie clapped Sam on the shoulder laughing, "Well, Hell's bells, you're a modern-day giant ain't ya?" Sam looked a bit embarrassed, though he laughed lightly at my uncle. Dean sniggered at Sam squirming until Charlie had him in his sights. He shifted, "You must be Dean," Charlie looked him up and down, "I expected you to be taller."

Dean chuckled, "Great things come in small packages, Charlie."

Charlie crossed his arms, overlooking him while he ran a hand over his beard, "Touché," he turned to me, "I like him."

I grinned, "I would at least hope so," I replied when Dean sagged with relief. I've seen Dean squirm over the thought of having to meet a girl's family, and it was amusing. He still squirmed under Charlie's gaze, and it was _still_ amusing.

"Charlie!" I heard a woman's voice call out. Dean and I turned to look and see an attractive woman come out from the house. Dean grinned at her with an appreciative look on his face, as he stepped beside me, "You didn't tell me Abigail was gonna be here this early!" The woman smiled at me sweetly as she descended the steps.

Charlie smiled sheepishly at the woman, "Sorry, babe."

The woman embraced me in a hug, then stepped back, "Hi, I'm Kara."

I smiled at her, "Well, you already know me, but this is Dean and Sam Winchester, my brothers."

She looked at them, smiling, "Nice to meet you, Sam and Dean, how long are ya'll staying? Charlie and I have so many things planned out for Abigail's birthday."

I gaped at them in shock. _No!_

"Oh, really now?" Dean said, interested.

Kara smiled, "Yeah! I was going to take her out for a girl's day, you know, shopping and things."

I let out an uncomfortable laugh, "Thanks for the offer, but, I'm good on the shopping trip and whatnot." Kara cocked her head with a confused look. From the look Sam and Dean had on their faces, they were eating this up! I guess it was my turn to squirm.

"Aw, nonsense!" Charlie said, "It's your birthday today, least you can let us do is give you something to remember!"

I furrowed my brows, "That's not necessary, I'm fine right here."

Kara smiled, "Oh, come on, everything will be open around nine, we'll get you some nice outfits, take you out to get a mani-pedi, and tonight we can do whatever you want." I shifted uncomfortably at the thought of being primped, then focused on Kara's swollen stomach. My eyes widened in confusion, drifting up to Charlie, who gave me a look that told me he'd explain later. I felt Dean's hand take hold of mine putting me at ease instantly, I glanced at him and smiled softly.

_Inside_

Walking in, the interior of Charlie's house was incredibly different as opposed to the house's exterior. It had a rustic feel to it, much like how my old home was. The entrance was tiled, walls covered in different colored wood planks; various items of old farming equipment lining the walls as well as old photos caught my eye. Dean and Sam stared in amazement, mostly stunned by how nice everything was until we entered the living area. It had a nice layout, it was vast and open; the couches were placed neatly in front of a large cobblestone fireplace with several taxidermy heads of elk and deer.

"This place is freaking amazing," Dean spoke, taking everything in while Sam inspected the large bookcase beside the fireplace. Sam looked impressed at the collection of legends, bibles, and other books that had to do with religion and monsters. I wandered around, bag in tow.

Charlie smiled, "Make yerselves at home," he said, "We'll give you the grand tour."

"The extra bedrooms are up on the second floor, there are at least four master bedrooms with full bathrooms in them." Kara began, placing a hand on her large stomach, "The kitchen is behind that door," She said pointing towards a barn-door inspired double-door, "y'all are more than welcome to get whatever you like." My stomach growled again upon thinking about food, "We have an indoor pool in the basement—"

"As well as an open bar, pool table, and whatnot," Charlie said with a cheeky grin. Dean looked elated about that and I smiled. Sam just shook his head at his brother,_ go figure._

"The bathrooms are all updated; you have a choice between a Jacuzzi tub or a stand-up shower," Kara prattled on with her ditzy smile.

"The arsenal room is located in the basement, before the pool," Charlie told Dean, "Got some nice additions, y'all are more than welcome to check it out."

Dean chuckled, "Mighty kind of you, Charlie," he replied with sincerity in his voice, he glanced at me, "But I think I'd like to check out the master bedrooms, catch up on some sleep."

"Twenty-one hours is rough," I added, "We didn't get much sleep,"Charlie and Kara nodded in understanding, "I'll let you know whenever we can go out," I said to Kara. She smiled brightly at me.

"That's fine, honey." She replied. I looked over to Sam, who was engrossed in looking through a book.

"We're going to find a room, Sammy," I said. He glanced up at us and nodded.

"Okay," he responded, "I'll look for one later on," Sam looked at Charlie, "You have an amazing collection of books."

Charlie chuckled, "It took a long time to find them, a lot of swapping too."

Dean and I headed upstairs, peering into several rooms that were available.

_Bedroom_

Dean was dazzled by the bedroom that we had picked out. It was spacious, a flat screen hung on the wall across from the bed. The khaki colored wall where the queen-sized bed was up against made the red covers stand out, along with the black bookshelves that were lined up against the furthest wall. A large window that had the most beautiful view of the mountains was on the left side of us, a door to the bathroom—I presumed, was adjacent to it.

Dean turned to me with a grin, "This room is so freaking cool!" I smiled at him softly, taking in his enthusiasm about our room for the extent of our stay. My body felt heavy with exhaustion, though I was careful to not allow it to show, Dean could easily pick up on it. I watched him shrug off his jacket, placing it on a nearby chair that sat beside the bed before approaching me from behind. He peeled my jacket off, tossing it onto his, and placed a tender kiss on my neck.

The hairs on my arms stood up as I let out a shaky breath from the contact, "Why didn't you tell me you haven't been sleeping well?" He murmured into my ear, making me stiffen.

_How did he know?_ I thought as he slowly turned me around to look at him in the eyes.

"You've been having nightmares again, haven't you?" He stated. I looked down, saying nothing. "Abigail," He lifted my chin up as I stared into those brilliant hazel orbs as they searched mine for an answer, "Haven't you?" He repeated as I nodded my head slowly, casting my eyes to the floor. I heard Dean sigh, pressing his lips against my forehead, and pulled me in tighter.

"I don't know how I feel about bein' here," I spoke quietly, "Bein' back in West Virginia."

"I know, Abs," Dean replied, "It's gotta be hard on you."

I lay my head onto his chest, "I just want to find Dad," I spoke in barely a whisper. I felt Dean's body tighten against mine, "I just want us to be a family again." Tears pricked my eyes and I blinked a few times, "I miss him."

Dean nodded, putting his face in my hair, "I do too, Abigail," He peered down at me with a smile, "We'll find him. No matter how long it takes us, we'll find him. Nothing can hurt him."

I smiled softly, tears still evident in my eyes, "He's tough."

Dean grinned, "Oh yeah."

I nodded, biting my lip, "I love you."

His eyes softened at my words, "Right back at ya babe. Always," He glanced outside to see the sun coming up over the horizon, "Hey," I looked to see the sky turn orange, "Didn't think we'd get here in time to see it."

Watching the sun rise, I rested my head on his shoulder, "I totally forgot about it to be honest."

"Why don't you like your birthday?" Dean asked suddenly. I frowned at him.

"I told you," I explained, "I feel it's just another day, why celebrate it?"

Dean furrowed his brows, "For one, it's your birthday. Two, the thought of you getting primped like a regular person is kinda hot."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Shut up, I hate the thought of it."

"You're weird."

I grinned smugly at him, "And I like it like that, too."

Dean hummed in agreement, turning his body towards me. I saw the familiar glint of lust in his eyes, "Why don't we try out that Jacuzzi?" He asked.

My grin never left my face as I placed my hands on Dean's shoulders, leaning my body into his, brushing my lips barely against his, "Why don't we?"

"Is that an offer?" He implied, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. I took a step back, seeing the confusion in his eyes as I did so. My hands slowly went to my back, unfastening my bra. I reached into each of the sleeves, pulling the straps off, and pulled the black lace undergarment from the front of my shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Dean's eyes fell upon my chest, taking note of my hardened nipples pressing against my shirt and licked his lips, eyes flickering back up to mine. I smirked, reaching for the hem of my Led Zeppelin shirt, bringing it over my head, and let it fall to the floor next to my bra.

Dean shifted where he stood, his eyes glazing over in primal need as he stared at my bare chest.

I looked at him with a tilted head, "See anything you like?"

Dean smirked, "_Oh_ yeah." He replied as I took off my boots, "Don't take any more off," he said huskily making me arch a brow at him. He stepped towards me, placing his hands on each side of my face and kissed me firmly. Desire shot through my body, fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt, he broke the kiss, allowing me to pull it off of him before crashing his lips back onto mine. My hands slid up and down his chest, feeling each of his muscles quiver.

Our lips meshed with each other, our tongues entwining in the heat of the moment. Dean broke the kiss again, staring into my eyes. That oh so familiar wad of tension sat deliciously in my lower abdomen as I felt his hands slide down my body, quickly flicking his thumbs against my nipples when a moan escaped from my mouth. I felt my heart pound from inside my chest, watching him unbuckle my belt, as well as unbuttoning my jeans. My fingers fumbled with his, my eyes instantly greeted with the hardness of his manhood as I tugged his jeans down.

Dean chuckled, "We aren't being too eager, are we?"

"No, not at all," I replied as he made quick work of getting out of his boots and jeans. The only thing left on him was his necklace. He rarely took it off. I made quick work of my jeans and underwear, stepping out of them as well. Standing in the middle of the room stark naked, Dean brought his hand up to my cheek, gently running the pad of his thumb across my lip.

I looked up at him with a smile, staring into those beautiful hazel eyes of his; mesmerized. Bowing his head, Dean brushed his lips against my collarbone, nipping at certain areas of my neck. The hairs on my arms stood up as I ran my fingers through his hair, tipping my head to the side with a soft moan eliciting from my lips. The scratch of his stubble left a wake of heat when he brushed his cheek against mine as he brought up a hand, entangling it in my hair.

"Maybe the Jacuzzi can wait." He murmured against my skin, briefly pulling away with his sultry grin in place. I grinned, nodding. Letting my hair go, Dean lifted me up by my bottom with ease, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. Feeling the heat from his enlarged manhood, I grew very excited, anticipating everything he did as he took a few steps until I arched my back from the sudden coldness of the wall, leaving me breathless. Taking one of my breasts in his hands, Dean began to massage it delicately, pulling and pinching my taut nipples with expertise. My body shook underneath his hulking figure, thankful that I wasn't standing or I would've fallen, making me look like a fool.

"Dean," I whispered out hoarsely, earning a smirk from him as he ran a soft hand against the inside of my thigh, running his fingers against my damp folds. The tension in my stomach knotted deliciously upon him inserting a finger within. I let out a shuddering breath, raking my nails down his shoulders lightly as he began pumping his hand to a primal rhythm. Leaning my head against the wall halfway closing my eyes, Dean took the opportunity to pull his finger out and adjust himself to where he could easily gain entrance. Feeling the burning sensation of the head at my entrance, I braced myself, opening my eyes and met his. With a swift thrust, the two of us stilled feeling that he had filled me to the brim.

I noticed the muscle in his jaw tick when he slowly began to pump, hands placed firmly on my hips. Pump after pump, I felt myself ascend into cloud nine, the nerves in my body singing with electricity. I bit my lip to prevent any noise from coming out, only to have Dean crash his lips against mine in a hungry kiss, tongues entwined in a dance as the two of us moaned with every passing second. I felt the familiar touch of his necklace hitting my chest with each thrust he took, every muscle in his body along with mine, quivering with ecstasy.

Our breathing became faster, his grip on my hips became tighter, and our kissing became rougher. I felt my heart beating inside my chest, wondering every now and then if it was going to burst through each passing thrust. The more Dean persisted, the more pleasurable it became. By the time that the both of us had reached our climaxes, we were covered in a thin gleam of perspiration. Dean stared into my eyes with wonder, letting go of my hip and lightly touched my face as if I were porcelain.

He blinked, planting a gentle, heartfelt kiss onto my swollen lips, saying nothing. It was one of his quirks. Dean Winchester was a man by showing, not telling. Seeing him in this vulnerable state, treating me as if I were going to break, I finally understood what Haley Collins had meant three months ago by the way he looked at me. My heart swelled with so much admiration, I couldn't help but smile at him, running delicate fingers down his chest, fumbling with his pendant.

"It's beginning to feel like you like my pendant better than you like me, Abs," Dean spoke softly, breaking the silence with a lazy grin. I laughed softly, legs still wrapped around his waist. Looking over his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around me tightly and walked over to the bed, laying me down onto the clean, crisp sheets, wasting no time at all and pulled me into another heated kiss.

_Dean's Point of View_

Abigail was sound asleep beside me in our bed, arm draped over my waist and head situated on my shoulder. I knew she had to be tired, _three hours of sleep_? I clenched my jaw glancing down at her from the television screen, _how could I have not known?_ Her breathing was even, lying still as can be. A part of me wanted her to catch up on sleep, another part of me wanted to know why no one told me beforehand. I turned my attention back to the screen watching _Rocky II_, before realizing that I hadn't gotten Abigail anything for her birthday.

"Shit," I hissed out to no one in particular. Slowly, I removed Abigail's arm from around my waist and carefully slid out from bed. I let out a relieved breath in achieving that I hadn't woken her, turning, I padded over to the duffle bag of clothes, pulling out a clean shirt and jeans.

Getting dressed, I couldn't help but look back at Abigail, unsure if I should leave her in case she were to have another nightmare. After a few short moments of debating, I prayed silently that she wouldn't, approaching the bed and as carefully as I could, I planted a soft kiss on her forehead and walked out of the room. Walking down the hallway, I could hear Abigail's uncle and Sammy speaking from the living area. Descending the stairs, Charlie and Sam looked up with a smile.

"Well, look who's up," Charlie said, "You sleep well?"

I chuckled scratching the back of my head, "If that's what they call it nowadays, yeah."

Charlie laughed, taking a sip of coffee, "I hear ye," glancing up to the stairs.

"Oh, uh, Abigail's still asleep," I looked over to Sam, "She hasn't been sleeping well nowadays."

Sam wouldn't look at me, knowing that I had found out. Charlie nodded, running a hand over his beard, "How bad they gettin'?"

"They're getting worse," Sam admitted, glancing my way warily, "She was telling me that she'd been up three days…"

I felt my body stiffen, anger rising, "You mind explaining why you didn't tell me anything, Sammy?"

"She didn't want me to say anything, Dean."

I scoffed, "I'm your brother, Sam, I need to know these things."

Sam shook his head, "And she's also our sister," I let out a harsh laugh, shaking my head seeing Charlie arch his brow from where he sat. I leaned forward, resting my arms on my knees.

"That's Abigail for ya," Charlie said, "Last time she was here, she took the god-awfullest fit," He shook his head, "I don't think she slept much after that either." Charlie's girl came out from the kitchen with a smile.

"Did you sleep well, Dean?" She asked brightly.

I grinned, "Oh yeah, perfectly." I watched her look around for Abigail, "Oh, uh, Abigail's still asleep."

Kara nodded, "I figured as much," she shook her head sitting beside Charlie, "Poor thing looked like she was about to fall over, she looked so tired."

I chuckled, sending Sam a look, "Abigail could sleep through a tornado right about now if it were to happen." Charlie and Kara laughed lightly.

_Abigail's Point of View_

_Later_

I woke up with a start, stretching. Running my fingers against the soft sheets of the bed, I frowned, not feeling Dean beside me. Sitting up, I scrunched my face in confusion, looking around the room.

"Dean?" I called out softly, pushing my hair out of my face. Glancing at the clock, I saw that it was around eleven or so and climbed out of bed, padding over to the duffle bag of mine and Dean's clothes. Pulling out a pair of fitted, destroyed jeans, a white bra and underwear, and a white tank top. Stepping into my jeans, I pulled them up and buttoned them and fastened my bra, pulling the white tank top on. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I looked over myself with a frown. With what I wore, I looked somewhat decent, though my scraggy hair and tired look made me feel like I was a well-dressed vagabond.

I ran my hands through my hair, beginning a braid at my bangs, before meshing it together into a fishtail braid, pulling it apart after I secured it with a hair-tie. I picked up my fitted, military jacket and shrugged it on, and pulled my boots over my jeans. I stared at myself longer, taking notice of the minute scars on my face; one under my eye, another one in my hairline, and another one that was beginning to fade on my bottom lip. Each of them had a different story behind them. I had dark circles under my eyes that made me look like I had gotten two black eyes. My eyes then drifted down to my chest, seeing the beginnings of the pink scars from the Wendigo.

I frowned at them, _Another one for the collection_. I thought bitterly. What Dean had seen in me was beyond what I could comprehend, but there was one thing I knew for sure, I was nowhere _near_ being perfect. I reached for my mother's rosary, wrapping it around my left wrist several times, allowing the crucifix to dangle. I don't think I have ever let it out of my sight. I blew out another sigh, wondering what John was doing right now or where he was at. Hanging my head, tears welled up in my eyes causing me to wipe them away quickly with the heel of my palm.

Hearing a muffled laughter, I turned towards the door, remembering that Charlie's girlfriend was wanting to spend the day as a girl's day. I shook my head, dread washing over me. I didn't want this. I didn't even want my birthday to be celebrated. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I approached the door and twisted the knob, opening it.

Walking through the hallway, I descended the stairs coming into the living area seeing that there was no one around. I frowned, hearing Charlie laughing from outside. Stepping towards the front door, I opened it to see that everyone was standing outside. They all looked up at me, smiling. Dean was standing with a mug of coffee in his hand, Charlie stood with a mug of coffee as well, while Sam stood with just a glass of water. Kara grinned like an excited kid.

"Abigail, you're up!" She said, "Did you sleep well?"

I looked at her, stepping beside Dean and nodded, "Yeah… I slept alright."

Dean kissed me lightly on the temple, "Hey, you." He whispered softly into my ear.

I leaned my body into his, "Hey, you."

Charlie watched the both of us under calculating eyes, "No nightmares?"

I shook my head a little relieved, "No. No nightmares." The three men seemed relieved about it. I was too. I felt pretty good to have some sleep, "So, uh, Kara…" I began, "What do you exactly have planned today?"

Kara's smile widened, "I was thinking that we could go get us a mani-pedi, then perhaps go to the town center and get you some cute outfits—" I shivered at the word _cute outfits_, "—then we could go out for lunch somewhere and by the time we get back, the hog should be done cookin'."

I nodded slowly, unsure of what to say, "I, uh, don't know if cute outfits should be ideal in my line of work… maybe something that would be a little more versatile?"

Kara laughed, "Abby, I know you guys are hunters," she rubbed her swollen stomach tenderly, "I grew up in a family of them," I looked at her shocked, "A girl always needs some nice clothes, never know when you need them."

I nodded again, "Oh… uh, alright then…" I glanced to Sam and Dean, "You think you can handle Charlie by yourselves?"

Dean grinned, "Yeah, I'm sure we could handle him."

Charlie chuckled at my joke, "Hurtin' my feelings now, Abby-girl?"

I smirked, "No, if I remember correctly, you like to blow things up."

Dean and Kara's brows rose at Charlie when he grinned mischievously, shoulders moving up and down as he began to belly laugh, "Now that's an awful thing to say about me," he said in between laughing, "But I've been known to do a few things in my youth."

I shook my head, "You three behave; especially you, Dean."

A look of feign shock fell upon his face, "What?" He said innocently, a grin breaking through. I laughed, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, and sighed, turning to Kara.

"Let's get this over with," I said.

_Charleston, West Virginia_

_Mall_

There was a pungent smell of chemicals that clung to the inside of my nose. I sneezed into my jacket, when I looked around irritated at the group of women in the nail salon. Kara and I sat in two large recliner-type chairs with our feet in a small tub, hot water bubbling. I glanced down at Kara's swollen stomach.

"How… how far along are you?" I asked, earning a soft smile from her.

"About twenty weeks," Kara replied, "We haven't been able to find out what the baby's going to be. It's being stubborn. I think it's going to be a boy." She smiled to her belly, "Charlie wants a girl." She picked up her bottle of water, taking a sip, "How long have you and Dean been together?"

I laughed softly, staring at my lap, "A while," I replied, picking up my bottle of _Dr. Pepper,_ "I think… six, seven years?"

Kara blinked, "That's a while, have you guys ever thought about settling down, starting a family?"

I choked on my swallow of pop, coughing in shock at her question, "I, uh…" I shook my head, beating my fist against my chest to breathe properly, "No."

Kara laughed lightly, "You mean, you _like_ being on the road constantly?"

Moving my shoulders up and down in a shrug, I scrunched my face in thought, "It's okay…"

"I can remember being on the road _all the time_," Kara reminisced, "I hated it. I wanted to stay in one spot, to have something that I could call home," she smiled, looking at me, "I left when I graduated high school, went to college and I have never looked back."

I blinked, "Don't you miss your family?"

She nodded, "Yeah, of course I do. I see them every now and then when they come to stay at the house."

"So, how'd you and my uncle meet?"

Kara grinned, "In a bar. I was the bartender."

I laughed, "No kidding? How'd that work out?"

"He used to cheesiest line I think that was ever made," Kara giggled out, "Asked me, 'Did it hurt when I fell from Heaven?'" She shook her head with a school-girl smile, "I thought he was so cheesy, but he was adorable."

"Uncle Charlie, _adorable?_" I asked, "I never thought I'd hear that." The nail techs sat down in front of Kara and me, beginning to massage our legs. Sinking into the recliner, I pressed a remote to it, jumping slightly when it began to vibrate. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, "Oh my god," I breathed out, "Dean would _so_ love this."

Kara giggled, "He likes getting massages?"

"Oh yeah," I replied, "Especially those beds that vibrate… what are they called? Magic Fingers?"

Kara nodded after a moment, "Yeah, I think so."

I leaned my head back, allowing myself to relax, "I didn't think how much I needed this, Kara." I said, looking over to her, "Thanks." Kara reached her hand out with a soft smile, I took her hand.

"You're welcome, Abigail, it must be hard not having another girl around to vent." She replied.

A short moment went by, "Yeah," I nodded, "I kinda forgot what it felt like… I'm just used to telling everything to Sammy, then he went off to college for a while," I frowned, feeling my lip beginning to tremble, "I kinda just held things in, Dean and John were always gun-ho, ready for the next round and I was still trying to get over losing my brother." Kara looked at me sympathetically.

"Well, now you have another girl to talk to now," Kara said with a smile. I looked at her quietly, nodding, "What color are you wanting to get your toes done?" She asked suddenly.

I looked at the various arrays of colors, "Uh… I'm not sure," I admitted, "I don't really take the time for myself."

Kara laughed, reaching for the color she picked out. It was a hot, neon pink. I almost had to squint at how bright it was, "Get it done with this color, I think it'd look good with your complexion."

I took the bright pink bottle of nail polish in my hand, turning it over in speculation. Pursing my lips, I shrugged, "Why not? I think it'd be a shock on Sam and Dean seeing how they never see me in anything but band shirts and jeans."

Kara's jaw dropped, "You don't have any dresses or skirts or anything like that?"

I shook my head, laughing, "Nope."

She shook her head in shock, "When we get done with this, I will find you some cute dresses!"

"It's winter." I stated, "It'd be too cold to wear a dress unless we were in Florida or California."

Kara grinned, "Well, I guess you guys just have to stay in one of those states, then," she sighed, "You really don't have a dress?"

I shook my head, giggling, "No, I swear to you I don't."

_Later_

Kara and I stood in the middle of the mall searching for a different store to go in. I looked down at my hands, seeing white tipped nails that were not even my own. I couldn't help but clench my hands to see if I was able to make a fist, touching my nails to my skin. I felt awkward, and I didn't feel right having them on my hands. I frowned further realizing that it would hinder my ability to play my guitar.

"You okay?" Kara asked, resting a manicured hand on my shoulder. I looked up at her, nodding.

"Yeah, I'm just not used to these things," I replied, holding up my hands sheepishly.

Kara laughed, "They're awkward at first, but you get used to them." She spotted _Victoria's Secret_ and grinned, "C'mon, we gotta get you some things from there." I turned to see the intimate store and frowned.

"Those are expensive though," I whispered.

Kara waved dismissively, "You forget you have money, Abigail," she smiled, taking my hand leading me into the store. I breathed in the strong scent of perfume, covering my nose a little bit in discomfort. _I am so not used to this!_ I thought, peering down at the various arrays of lingerie. Kara held up a delicate looking pair of black lace underwear that had bows in the back causing me to raise my brows at them.

_Dean would like those._ I thought furtively, picking another pair up and inspected it, only to put it back down, "Twenty-eight _dollars_?" I hissed at Kara. She laughed at me, obviously amused.

"Get them," she urged, "I saw you looking at them."

Looking back down at them, I chewed on my lip hesitantly, "Fine." I muttered, picking up the underwear, some more catching my eye. It only took me ten minutes to ease into the idea of getting new underwear, especially getting skimpy little pieces of lace that would get a man's blood flowing in no time. I smugly picked out a few pairs of bras as well as getting some sweatpants and a baggy looking sweatshirt. Kara looked at me with excitement when I was finished and stood up at the counter waiting to check out.

"Those are cute!" Kara squealed in a hushed tone holding up a pair of thongs, "Here, I'll get them for you." I bit my lip to prevent myself from objecting. I slowly nodded, stepping aside watching the total rise up to almost two hundred dollars. I shifted uncomfortably, _Good Job, Abigail, you blew two hundred bucks on just _underwear! Kara turned to me with the decorative _Victoria's Secret _bag, still smiling. I took it, looking at the bag with a frown, knowing that saying anything would be futile. My fingers were already getting sore from the acrylic nails, and I was sure that Kara was going to drag me to more stores.

_Charlie's House_

Coming up the long driveway, I played with my nails growing nervous again. Being drug into several makeup stores, I sat through one store getting makeup put on that 'went well with my complexion' and had eye makeup that would 'make my eyes stand out'.

_What a bunch of crock_, I grumbled. I had over five hundred dollars' worth of clothes and make up, as well as new shoes and jewelry sitting in the trunk. _Yeah, that doesn't make me uncomfortable at all._

I just wanted to get back to Dean and Sam, to feel normal and not pampered. Though I had to admit it felt good to get out and do something like that with another girl. Before we had left, Kara begged me to change into some of my new things to surprise Dean with, so I did. I sat in the passenger seat wearing a pair of tight skinny jeans, knee high boots, a long sleeved V-neck shirt, as well as a new oversized military jacket.

Kara looked at me with a grin, "Do you like everything you got?" She asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, I don't think I could thank you enough."

She smiled, "I'm glad, I just wanted to do something since it's your birthday."

"I don't usually do anything for my birthday," I admitted, "I just usually try to skip through it or do something that doesn't remind me of it."

"We should do this more," Kara said, "I really enjoyed it, and whenever the baby comes, I want you, Dean and Sam to be here."

I blinked at her, "Yeah, of course."

Kara eased in around the Impala before cutting the engine, "You want me to help you with everything?"

I shook my head with a soft smile, "Nah, I got it. I have to put everything in a duffle bag so that it doesn't take up room… gotta try and travel light." She nodded understandingly, then all of a sudden she took me in an embrace. I froze in my seat, stunned at her action, slowly patting her on the back. Sitting back, she gazed at me with a sisterly smile on her face.

"Come on," Kara said, smiling at me, "We gotta show you off."

I rolled my eyes, tucking my hair behind my ear, "Let do this."

Inside, Dean, Charlie, and Sam were sitting watching some sort of movie. _Obviously something Dean hissed him up to watch_, I thought, stepping uneasily into view of the boys. Kara cleared her throat causing them to look away from the television. Kara stood beside me with her bubbly grin in place, while I stood there feeling like a show dog. I shifted uncomfortably in my spot, not knowing whether to fold my arms or put my hands in my pockets. Either way, I felt horribly out of place; the fake nails that cause my fingers to hurt didn't help.

Sam and Charlie blinked at me either astonished or shock, while Dean straightened up in his chair, eyeing me with those luminous green eyes of his. Kara took me by the arm, pulling me towards the three men.

"What do you guys think?" She asked with an eager smile while I peered down on the hardwood floor to avoid anyone's gaze and twisted my hands at the uncomfortableness.

Charlie chuckled, "Abby-girl, you look great."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, you look amazing, Abigail." I glanced up at my uncle and Sam, giving them an embarrassed tight-lipped smile before shifting my weight in my feet. Sam, sitting beside him, continued to blink with bewilderment… perhaps shock. I don't think he's ever seen me without a band shirt or his shirt or Dean's shirt on. I don't think I wanted to be out of these clothes and into my old ones as bad as anything else.

"Thanks," I murmured, running a manicured hand through my loosely braided hair. Feeling Dean's eyes on me, I looked up seeing him smirking and winked. Automatically, butterflies had made their appearance in my gut, my face heated up. I hadn't reacted to anything like that in _years_. I found myself grinning stupidly at him.

"Dean." Sam said, coaxing his brother to blink, turning his head to him with furrowed brows, "Are you gonna say anything?"

Dean pursed his lips thoughtfully, looking back to me, "I think my girl is _smoking _hot." Everyone, including myself, started laughing.

I wrapped my arms around myself, "_Thanks_, that wasn't expected from you at all."

Dean grinned up at me from his seat, "Seriously though, you look beautiful, Abs." I grinned at him, granting everyone in that house a genuine smile. The look that I saw in his eyes were clear that he had accomplished something within him, whether it was seeing me or Sam smile, or seeing me get new things. I think the big brother in him was overjoyed to see something good come out in our hectic lives.

"Thanks," I replied lightly, feeling a knot form in my throat, "I got a _lot_ of bags out in the car…" I motioned my thumb backward, "I'm gonna go get them." Charlie gazed at me with a grin, getting up.

"Abigail, you just sit and relax," He crossed the room over to me, placing a strong hand on my shoulder, "Kara and I will take care of 'em." I opened my mouth to protest, "_sit._" He ordered.

Pursing my lips, I merely nodded at my uncle and walked over to where Sam was sitting, due to Dean being in a small loveseat, and plopped down. Kara and Charlie left us in the living room, allowing me to blow out a breath of air, "What did I do to deserve this?" I asked, glancing up at my two brothers.

Sam patted my shoulder, "It's something you needed, Abigail."

I furrowed my brows, "No," I shook my head, lifting my hands to show them my nails, "_This_ is unnecessary." Dean's brows rose along with Sam's, "I would've chosen to go to a gun store or some outfitter, rather than a freakin' _mall_!"

Dean chuckled, "You're sweating it, cherry-pie. Enjoy it while you still can," he lifted his bottle of beer to his lips, "Who knows when the next time we get to do something like this again whenever we find Dad."

I nodded, staring down at my new boots, "Have you found anything out from Charlie while I was gone?"

Sam sighed, shaking his head, "_No_."

"But Charlie does have one hell of an arsenal room," Dean added, "Puts the one we have in Baby to shame." I snorted, leaning back into the couch only to catch Dean staring at me again.

"What?"

"You got make-up on." He deadpanned.

I groaned, flopping my head backwards, "I _know_. Kara drug me through like, four different make-up stores. I don't know _how_ many department stores," I gazed at Sam and Dean with a sad look, "All of the clothes that I have are just going to end up getting ruined within a week."

Dean stood up and made his way to the other side of me, sitting down. He placed a hand on my knee, staring at me with a stern look, "Abs, if you don't like them, take them back. Sammy and I can't tell you what to do," He told me, "Charlie and Kara are your only living family."

"I know that too, that's why I let them do it," I muttered, "I like my old stuff…"

Sam scoffed, "You mean my stuff, and Dean's."

I grinned sheepishly at Sam, "_Maybe_." We turned our heads upon hearing the door opening as Kara and Charlie walked in with bags in each hand. Sam and Dean looked at the bags, then turned to look at me. I shrugged innocently at them.

"Kara went a bit overboard," I said, as Charlie went up the stairs following Kara.

"When we get your stuff in your room, we gotta go outside," Charlie hollered going up the stairs, "Got some food out in the barn that's ready." I opened my mouth to say something, only to close it when Dean shook his head at me. Frowning, I crossed my arms and pouted.

_Barn_

The aroma of Barbeque and pork invaded my senses, making my mouth water and stomach rumble. The faint smell of horses clung in the air as well, bringing me into a state of nostalgia along with the cast iron cook stove sitting the far corner of the building. Warmth was spread out with no signs of the icy bite of winter. It was so warm, we were stripped of our jackets only mere seconds of being inside.

On the far side of the wall, there were tables set up. On them were various arrays of food; a tray of pulled pork, ribs, mashed potatoes and gravy. Several bowls of chips and pretzels, along with dip. Even a bowl of salad, which I presumed that was claimed by Sam. At another table, there sat scads of fudge and pie, and a cake? I blinked.

_They seriously got me a cake?_ I thought to myself, turning towards the men and Kara, "You got me a cake," I deadpanned.

Charlie flashed me a grin from under his beard, "Why yeah, a birthday ain't a birthday without cake."

"Or pie." Dean chimed in with a smile.

"Or pie." Charlie confirmed, waggling his finger, "You gotta point, Dean." We shared a lighthearted chuckle as I tilted my head in agreement. Pie had been my cake for the past eleven years. I couldn't help but smile at his contribution, "A'ight, let's eat." Charlie announced, "Birthday girl first."

"Oh boy," I said dryly, waving a finger around in a circle while rolling my eyes, "You sure Kara doesn't want to go first? I mean, baby's gotta eat." We stared at Kara, who only smiled at me.

"I am hungry," Kara giggled out.

I motioned ahead of me, "Pregnant woman first, then."

Sitting down in a chair beside Dean, the both of us couldn't help but stare at Sam as he dug into a pile ribs on his plate. He looked up at us with a confused look.

"What?"

Dean smirked at his brother, "It does my heart good seeing my brother eat real food."

Sam shook his head with a roll of his eyes, "Dean, I do eat _real _food. Just not the junk you two eat." He explained, crinkling his nose at me while I piled a large bite of pie into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully, and paused seeing Sam's distasteful look.

"What?" I asked with food still in my mouth. Sam arched a brow at me, while Dean chuckled.

"Sammy says we eat only junk food," Dean instigated.

I looked at Sam, swallowing down the pie, "I don't eat junk food."

"I didn't say…" Sam stopped himself, "Quit putting words in my mouth, Dean."

Dean grinned smugly at his brother before shoveling a spoonful of pie into his mouth as well and chewed, eyes glittering mischievously. I rolled my eyes at them, before turning to see Charlie looking at me with a small smile. Blinking, I cocked my head at him.

"Get you a guitar, Abby." Charlie spoke, "Told ya we were gonna pick a little bit."

Getting up from beside Dean, I went to the wall nearest to Charlie and picked out two guitars. I handed one of them to Charlie and pulled a stool beside him, strumming the guitar to check the chords and to see if they were in tune. I played the first bit of The Rolling Stones', _Paint it Black_ and nodded to myself with a smirk. Charlie grinned, seeing that I've gotten better.

"Well, I'll be damned," Charlie said running a calloused hand down his beard. I shrugged with a smile. Dean, Sam, and Kara sat watching us intently, "What song you want to start with?"

I thought for a moment, "_Midnight in Montgomery_."

Charlie nodded, "Good song, good song, start it off baby-girl."

I smiled and began to strum. My fingers were sore from the nails, but found it somewhat easy to still play.

_Later_

Dean and I stepped into our darkened room. I was beat, hell, I was _more_ than ready to sleep, nightmare or no nightmare. Shrugging our jackets off, Dean kissed me on the lips once again. Somewhere into the kiss, I started to smile. Pulling away, I couldn't really see the expression on his face, but I had a feeling that he was amused.

"What is it?" He asked.

I shook my head slowly, "You."

Dean chuckled, "What about me?"

"Everything," I replied, "You mean the world to me, Dean," I said, "and then some." I added before I stepped back to find the light switch, and flipped it up, blinking wildly in order to allow my eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Dean stood a few feet away from me, eyes wandering from my face to my feet and back up. _Always calculating something. He seemed to never stop_. I noticed his eyes wander behind me, causing me to curiously look over my shoulder.

My heart sped up and I turned, seeing a large bouquet of flowers lying on the bed with a small, square box sitting beside it. A small gasp passed through my lips, covering my mouth with my hand. I stared at the flowers and box, then looked back to Dean, who was looking back at me with an innocent look and raise eyebrows.

"What did you-?" I stuttered out, finding that I was at a loss for words. I looked back at the flowers again, my mouth gaping, "Did you-?"

He shrugged casually at me, taking a couple of steps towards me, "You should really close your mouth, Abs." A mischievous smirk tugged at his lips, "You're gonna end up swallowing a fly."

"Dean, you shouldn't—," I started to say again and shook my head.

Dean's lips pursed in impatience, "Will you go open box? I feel weird as it is getting you flowers." The lopsided grin he gave me caused me to start grinning stupidly. Approaching the two objects on the bed, I looked down at them, allowing my fingers run along the bouquet seeing various small flowers meshing in with red roses.

_So cheesy_. I thought with a grin, emitting a small laugh as I picked them up. Peering over my shoulder at Dean, he stood with a hand on his hip and scratched the back of his head with the other, looking at me with hopeful eyes, "I love them." I told him in a hushed voice.

"Really?" He asked, "Well, if you like them… you know, you'll like the other thing better," He urged, retaining that innocent look on his face. With a playful eye roll in his direction, I set the flowers down and picked up the little box.

_It's not what I think it is…is it?_ I asked myself. Suddenly, I was overcome with an array of emotions. _Did he want what I think?_ I mentally shook my head, _Of course not. This is Dean. Not the commitment type._ _Did I want this though?_ I bit my lip tracing the line of the box, flipping it open and stared blankly at what was in it. There wasn't a ring, there wasn't earrings, and there wasn't a bracelet, but a necklace. A simple necklace with a silver chain and a spent Winchester .45 Colt round. I held the box in my hand, staring at it for a long time.

Tears welled in my eyes as I finally looked at Dean. The cute innocent look that he donned on his face vanished when he saw the tears in my eyes, seeing a deep frown take form.

"You don't like it." He stated somberly.

Wiping away the tears, I shook my head, "No, Dean." I stood up with the box in tow, "I love it." I watched his eyes light up at my words as I crossed the room to him and hugged him tightly, "This is the best gift I could ever want."

Feeling his arms wind around me, Dean buried his face into the crook of my neck, "I'm glad."

I smiled into his jacket, "Put it on me?" I asked.

He straightened up, looking at me and nodded, "Turn around."

Conceding, I handed him the box before I turned around, bunching my falling hair in my hand. Dean then laced an arm around me, holding the necklace and laced the other around me to where he could get the other end of the necklace. Bringing it up to my neck, the cool touch of the silver and brass chilled me a little, then felt it go loose, falling between the space of my breasts. I dug it out, letting it show.

"It looks good on you," Dean said, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist.

"You're right about this," I began to say with a smirk, "I love this more than the flowers." Dean began chuckling from behind me, feeling his body shake with amusement.

"Good, cause I spent forever on it." He replied. I blinked, turning around in his arms to look up in his eyes, speechless. With raise brows, he grinned, "Yeah, you heard me sugar-pie, I made you the necklace."

I said nothing, getting up on my tip-toes and kissed him passionately. This had to be the most memorable birthday I've ever had, and the way it ended couldn't have been any better.


	9. Skin

**Hello my lovelies and welcome to chapter 8!**

**I think I might have gone over this chapter four or five times to ensure that it didn't sound awkward or too mushy on some parts. Also, there is a ****_big_**** surprise towards the end of this one! Is it too soon? Will it add some drama? Leave me some feedback on what you guys think at the end of this chapter! I'm always open for ideas!**

**And as always my dears, if you have a hankering to see a little scene, add a quote or two or three, and whatnot, leave it in your review or just shoot me a message! I'll ensure that you'll see it within the next chapter or two; I'll even work with you on it! (:**

**This story is not only for my pleasure and satisfaction, it's for you guys! **

**So please, sit back and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the ****_Supernatural _****franchise. Eric Kripke does. However, Abigail, her family, and any scenes that are non-canon are mine, as well as future scenes, I will give credit to whomever has given ideas! (:**

* * *

_Gas Station_

_Somewhere near Tucumcari, New Mexico_

_February 28__th__, 2006_

Sam and I were dead silent in the Impala. It being winter-ish in New Mexico didn't exactly perk me up either. It was cold and I personally hated it. Wrapped up in a blanket, donning one of Dean's jackets and one of Sam's beanies, I sat up against the interior of the Impala reading a few entries of John's journal. Somehow, imagining John's voice echoing in my mind as I read each entry had a calming effect on me.

It brought hope and ease to my restless mind on him. A prayer here and there helped as well. The nightmares, however, were a different story. Not that they bothered me as much, it was just when I had them. I shivered at the thought of a recent one.

I felt a frown tug at my lips.

"Alright, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight." I heard Dean say. I looked up from John's journal seeing that we had stopped at a gas station, "Sam wears women's underwear." Dean added.

I cracked a smile, looking up at Dean. He threw me a wink through the rearview mirror.

"I've been listenin', I'm just busy," Sam replied, sounding distracted by something. I leaned forward, peering over his shoulder to see him staring down at his PalmPilot.

With my curiosity piqued, I crinkled my nose and sat back into the seat looking at the back of his head, "Busy doin' what, Sammy?"

He looked up into the rearview mirror at me, "Reading e-mails." Dean and I shared a look before he got out of the car to fill it with gas.

"E-mails from who?" Dean asked from outside.

Letting out an irritated sigh, Sam rolled his eyes, "From my friends at Stanford."

Dean arched at brow, "You're kidding." He stated, "You still keep in touch with your college buddies?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly at us, "Why not?"

I puffed out my bottom lip with a small shrug, "Well, what exactly do you tell 'em?" I asked, "You know, about where you've been" I flicked my fingers in a small wave, "what you've been doin'?"

Sam looked over his shoulder at me, "I tell 'em I'm on a road trip with my big brother and my adopted sister," he replied honestly, "I tell 'em I needed some time off after Jess."

I nodded, toying with a page in Dad's journal subconsciously until Dean leaned into the window, sticking his head into the car, "Oh, so you lie to 'em." He challenged.

"No," Sam bristled at his brother's challenge, "I just don't tell 'em…_everything_."

"Yeah, that's called lying," Dean retorted, "I mean, hey, man," he threw his hands up in defense, "I get it, tellin' the truth is far worse."

"So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?" Sam asked. With a raised brow, Dean simply shrugged. Sam's features steeled, "You're serious?" He deadpanned.

"Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can't get close to people. _Period._" Dean said.

"How can you say that?" Sam stated with resentment lacing his words. I looked down into the journal once more. _Not getting into that argument._

Dean looked dumbfounded, "What do you mean?"

He threw Dean a dirty look, then motioned his head in my direction, "For one, you have Abigail." He scoffed, "You _always_ have. Don't tell me that you haven't gotten close to someone." Dean's eyes flickered my way, then shrugged dismissing Sam's words.

"Abigail's different," Dean replied, "She's one of _us_. She knows how it is in the life." He explained, "Besides, you have her too." I looked up at Dean with an arched brow, he shifted uncomfortably at a thought, "Just in a strict brother-sister…friend, relationship." With a simple shake of my head, I closed my eyes and laughed silently in amusement. Personally, I didn't think Dean knew exactly how to word out this argument.

Sam blew out a hot breath, turning his attention to his PalmPilot once again, "You're kind of-," He groaned and twisted his body around to look at me, "He's kind of anti-social, you know that, right?"

My mouth twitched into a half-smile, "If I told you I didn't, it'd be a lie." Placing the journal down, I opened the car door stepping out, "Besides, you think the both of us had the time to have a social life when you skipped off to college?"

Sam averted my gaze, opening a window in his PalmPilot, "No…" he murmured.

I shrugged at him, resting my case. Turning, I walked up behind Dean, sliding my arms around his waist while I managed to get my hands out from the sleeves of his jacket. He jumped slightly from the sudden gesture, though looking over his shoulder at me, Dean grinned, "Hey you."

I grinned up at him, "Hey you." Dean lifted up his left arm slightly so I could slide around to his front, where he lifted my chin to kiss me.

"Found anything interesting in Dad's journal?" he asked, putting the nozzle back onto the pump.

I shrugged, "Ah, this and that. He talks a lot about…you know." I trailed off, not really wanting to bring up Mary. Dean's eyes glazed over at the thought of his mother, as well as the memory of that fateful night. His embrace tightened, resting his chin on top of my head for a short moment.

"God…" We heard Sam utter softly. Dean looked down at me with a look that matched mine.

"What?" We asked in unison, then looked at each other again.

"In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine—," Sam began.

Dean perked up, "Is she hot?" he asked quickly. Sam ignored him, while I rolled my eyes, swatting his arm playfully.

"I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder," Sam continued, eyes moving down the e-mail, "He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."

Dean arched a brow, "Dude, what kind of people are youhangin' out with?" he asked in a serious tone. I looked between them, feeling that another argument was arising. _Only them_.

I jabbed my thumb in the direction of the gas station, "I'm going to get some coffee…Any of you want anything?" I asked. Sam shook his head, clearly distracted by the e-mail from his friend, while Dean shrugged.

"Pie if they got it," He said. I nodded, placing a tender kiss on his cheek and started to walk away from them.

"Make sure they have pie!" I heard him call out before Sam started back in, saying "I know, Zack. He's no killer."Stepping into the store, I couldn't help but shake my head at them both. They were something else.

A few minutes later, I walked out carrying a rather large cup of coffee and a bag of chips, along with a stick of jerky and of course, two pieces of pie; one being lemon and the other being cherry, before I heard a full blown pissing match from the Impala.

"Look, sorry 'bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem." I heard Dean retort.

Coming closer, I saw Sam looking at Dean with narrowed eyes, "It _is_ our problem. They're my friends."

I stayed back a ways for a short time, "St. Louis is _four hundred_ miles behind us, Sam." Dean argued. I looked between them, taking a small sip of coffee.

"Do I want to know?" I asked, earning dirty looks from both Sam and Dean, who in turn, looked from me, back to Sam, back to me, and finally back to Sam in some weird, secret squirrel, mind conversation.

Hell, I didn't know.

"_No_," Dean growled out, grabbing the bag from me and looked into it for the pies, "Sam, you're driving since it's _your_ friends." I blinked a couple of times at how cross Dean was acting.

_Jeeze_. Climbing back into the Impala, I picked up the journal, sitting it in my lap as Sam scooted across the front seat to the driver's side, turning the ignition. Dean piled in beside me, slamming the car door roughly, and stabbed into the slice of pie as if he were picturing it as Sam's head.

This was going to be interesting.

_Rebecca's House—Day_

After an uneventful and rather boring drive of six hours, Dean had finally simmered down to where he wanted to drive the rest of the way to St. Louis. Sam didn't complain, though with a simple eye roll, he took to the backseat to sleep while I sat shotgun, humming to myself.

Five and a half hours later, with thirty minutes shaved off due to Dean's driving, we parked outside Sam's friend, Rebecca's house. With Sam standing in front of Dean and I, we exchanged a glance before a pretty blonde answered the door.

I quirked a brow, _I'm sensing a pattern here of blondes._

The girl, I presumed as Rebecca, gasped out in delight, "Oh my God, Sam!"

With a chuckle, Sam smirked at her, "Well, if it isn't little Becky."

Rebecca arched her brow, "You know what you can do with that little Becky crap." She retorted with a smile before they stepped into a friendly embrace.

"I got your e-mail," Sam replied somberly whenever they pulled back.

She looked at him, shaking her head, "I didn't think that you would come here," she said. I looked between the two in silence while hiding a smile when Dean stepped up with an extended hand.

"Dean. Older brother." He said in his own way of introductions.

Rebecca smiled at him, shaking his hand, "Hi."

He grinned, waggling his eyebrows teasingly, "Hi." Rebecca looked behind him, seeing me and I smiled, waving my hand slightly.

"Hi, I'm Abigail…" I began, "Sorta-kinda older sister."

"Sorta-kinda?" she asked, looking to Sam and Dean with an arched brow.

"Long story," I explained, not elaborating any further. She nodded not questioning any further, still smiling.

Sam looked at us, then to her, "We're here to help. Whatever we can do." He spoke, obviously trying to change the subject.

"Come in," She invited us, opening the door wider. We filed in, with Dean' shutting the door behind him. I looked around my surroundings, taking in the rather spotless home. Feeling a little off, I glanced at a few photos hanging along the wall, and on a vanity.

"Nice place," Dean commented.

Rebecca looked over her shoulder at him, "It's my parents." She explained, "I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free."

Sam looked around, "Where are your folks?"

"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial." She explained further as we followed her into a spacious kitchen/living area. Turning toward us, she pointed to the refrigerator, "Do you guys want a beer or something?"

Dean smiled, "Hey—,"

Sam shook his head, "No, thanks." He said, cutting Dean off, and as a result threw a dirty look at him, "So, tell us what happened."

"Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody," Rebecca's breathing became heavier as tears formed in her eyes, "and she wasn't breathing." It was still to new, "So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him." Sam's friend looked at us, shaking her head, "But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I _swear_, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight." She finished, quickly wiping away the freshly fallen tears from her eyes.

Sam, who was eerily silent throughout Rebecca's explanation, looked over to Dean and me, "You know, maybe we could see the crime scene," he stated, "Zack's house."

Dean was hesitant, then gave Sam a short nod, "We could."

"Why? I mean, what could you do?" Rebecca asked, looking mainly to Dean.

"Well, me, not much. But Dean's a cop." Sam offered, earning a laugh from Dean.

"Detective, actually." Dean added, not missing a beat.

A flash of hope washed over Rebecca's face, "Really?" She asked in earnest, as Dean nodded, "Where?"

"Bisbee, Arizona." He replied, "But I'm off-duty now." Looking from Dean, to Sam, to Rebecca, I was still amazed at how easily Dean could lie without batting an eyelash. Sometimes I wondered if Dean has ever lied to me at all.

Rebecca gave us a genuine smile, "You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just—I don't know."

Sam gave Rebecca a sincere look, "Bec, look, I know Zack didn't do this." He told her, "Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent."

Sam's friend fell silent in contemplation.

Sam looked as if he were holding his breath, waiting for her to answer when she looked at us, nodding, "Okay," she finally said, "I'm gonna go get the keys." She turned on her heel and down a hallway, leaving the three of us to ourselves.

A low whistle emitted from Dean's lips as he watched her go, then turned to Sam, "Oh, yeah, man, you're a real straight shooter with your friends." He teased, waggling his brows. I folded my arms, smirking at Sam. Dean did have a point.

Sam sighed, "Look, Zack and Becky need our help."

Dean shrugged, "I just don't think this is our kind of problem."

I leaned on the bar with an elbow, "I don't know Dean, I mean, two places at _once_?" I pointed out, "I don't know about you two, but it's awfully familiar to me, and besides," I stared at Dean, watching him shift in place under my gaze, "We've looked into less."

Dean's eyes bored into mine, shifting to Sam briefly, then back to me before hanging in defeat, "You two realize I hate it when you outnumber me, right?"

Sam and I grinned at him.

I lifted my arms slightly, "What can I say? Learned from the best."

Dean rolled his eyes.

_Zack's House—Day_

Rebecca glanced at Dean anxiously as we stepped out of the Impala, looking across the street at Zack's townhouse. From what I could see, yellow police tape was taped along the length of the door in an 'X' fashion.

"You're sure this is okay?" She asked.

"Yeah." He answered her, "I'm an officer of the law." Rebecca must've missed the copious amounts of sarcasm dripping off the last part of what Dean had said when he took off across the street. Wasting no time, the three of us took off after him.

Stepping under the tape at the door first, I blinked a few times trying to get my eyes adjusted to the sudden dimness. The strong, metallic smell of dried blood was the first thing to assail my nose, causing me to instantly cover my nose in a poor attempt to prevent my gag reflex from coming to life. Sam and Dean stepped in behind me, looking around as well. Rebecca, who was standing outside still, peeked in.

"Bec, you wanna wait outside?" Sam asked when he turned to her.

She shook her head, after peering over her shoulder from outside, "No, I wanna help." Without hesitation, she ducked under the tape as well, entering the bloodied house.

I had come to a photograph with an evidence marker with a number four beside it. It was of a man with a goatee with his arm wrapped around a pretty girl. Presumably, Zack and Emily, hence it being their house and all. I tilted my head a little at the photograph longer. _He ain't half bad lookin' either, but not my type_, I thought smugly before looking to Rebecca, "Tell us what else the police said," I encouraged, tearing my gaze away from the photograph.

In an instant, tears were back in her eyes, "Well, there's no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let the attacker in." She began, "The lawyers—they're already talking about plea bargain…" I frowned upon hearing her voice faltering and she looked around the room, taking in the bloody scene before her. Rebecca put her hand over her mouth, "Oh, God…." She said as she began crying.

I couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards her, and yet, I felt so uncomfortable being here. My frown deepened the more that I pondered. Something was going on that we definitely needed to address, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. A dog barking rather loudly had caught my attention, as it did Dean's.

Sam had asked Rebecca if she had any idea on who could've done this. In her reply to him, someone had previously broken in a week earlier before the chain of events, the only thing being stolen, was his clothes. Dean crossed over to peer at the open door, seeing the dog barking wildly, snarling every now and then. Seeing what Dean was looking at, Rebecca came up behind him.

"You know, that used to be the sweetest dog," she commented.

Dean turned, "What happened?"

Rebecca's shoulders rose in a shrug, "I don't know, he just changed."

"Do you remember when he changed?" Dean asked.

"I guess around the time of the murder." She told him. He looked at her momentarily, walking off into different area of the house, nodding in my direction to follow.

Further into the house, I felt more uneasy. This wasn't just an old fashioned murder. Something paranormal had done this, I was certain. Dean and I were silent until we came across Sam, who was standing in the hallway looking at a framed photo of himself with Zack and Rebecca.

"So, the neighbor's dog went psycho right around the time Zack's girlfriend was killed." Dean spoke quietly, stopping a little ways.

"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Sam murmured, not taking his eyes off the photograph.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin'." Sam broke eye contact with the photograph, then turned to me, with Dean staring as well. I knew what they were thinking. I looked at them both with a raised brow.

"Oh so, I'm an animal now?" I asked.

Sam shook his head, "No, but you feel it don't you?"

I tilted my head, shrugging, "Somethin's not right, that's for sure." My eyes went to Dean, "So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?"

"No. Probably not, Abs." Dean replied with his stubbornness shining through, "But, we should look at the security tape, you know," he inquired, inclining his head a little while lifting his shoulders, "Just to make sure."

Knowing Dean would've swung my way given my opinion, Sam and I both nodded in agreement, just as Rebecca walked up to join us.

I turned to her, "So, the tape…The security footage—"I began, "you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it?" I asked. Rebecca eyed me. I let out a small laugh, "I don't think Dean has that kind of jurisdiction, given we're from Arizona and all."

Rebecca then nodded, "Yeah, I've already got it. I didn't wanna say something in front of the cop." She said, motioning in Dean's direction. He chuckled at her, "I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."

Dean nodded, eyes twinkling mischievously, "Alright then."

_Rebecca's House—Night_

Making it back to Rebecca's house, Sam and I were standing in front of the television, leaving enough room for Rebecca and Dean to watch between us. The remote was tucked under Sam's chin as he stared intently at the screen of the security footage, Dean was perched on the arm of the chair, while Rebecca was sitting on the couch, leaning forward to watch the video.

"Here he comes," Rebecca announced. Zack came into view, peering straight into the camera for a moment as he walked in. My jaw slackened instantly the man came into view. That wasn't Zack.

"22:04, that's just after ten," Dean said, taking note of the timestamp, "You said the time of death was about ten-thirty."

"Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert." She replied, "He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with."

I looked over to Sam, who stiffened slightly, "Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?" he asked.

She nodded, "Oh, yeah, sure."

As she turned to go to the kitchen, Sam caught her attention again, "Maybe some sandwiches, too?"

She arched her brow at him, "What do you think this is, Hooters?" she asked, beginning to laugh, then walked away.

"I wish," Dean muttered, before he crossed over to where we stood at the television, "What is it?" he asked.

Sam rewound the tape, "Check this out," he murmured, pressing play. The one frame that the imposter Zack looks directly into the camera made me want to tear my hair out. His eyes were silver, though in reality, as I saw it, was fuglier than anything I've seen…aside from demons. They took the cake on fugliness.

Dean stared at the paused frame of the man's eyes, "Maybe it's a camera flare."

I shook my head, "That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen, Dean. You know that." He inclined his head in agreement, "A lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul…"

"Right."

Sam nodded as well, "Remember that dog was freakin' out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack's," he looked to me then back at his brother, "Something that looks like him but isn't him."

I opened my mouth to speak, unfortunately I was cut off by Dean, "Like a _Doppelgänger_."

Sam nodded, "It'd sure explain how he was two places at once."

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes back at 'Zack'. _Not him. Not a Doppelgänger. What the shit was it called?!_

Dean looked over to me, sensing I was wanting to say something, "What is it?"

"That's not a _Doppelgänger_." I said finally.

Sam looked at me, "Abigail, that's the only thing we can come up with. That explains everything."

"That's not it, Sam," I muttered shaking my head a smidge, "That's not Zack, and that sure as hell ain't a _Doppelgänger_." Sam nodded, urging me to go on, and I sighed, "I know, firsthand." Dean winced beside me at the memory. He remembered it all too well.

Dean looked to the screen, "Then what is it?" He asked me, not wanting to go into specifics after receiving a look from Sam.

"Something that is definitely not a _Doppelgänger_," I said simply. Both men stared at me, clueless. I shrugged, "I can't place my finger on the damned name, alright?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Well, for now it's a _Doppelgänger_."

I shook my head, waving at him dismissively, "Whatever floats your boat, Sammy."

_Zack's House_

_Alleyway—Night_

Dean pulled the Impala behind Zack's house, wiping sleep from his eyes. I was beginning to feel pretty lethargic, though I was used to it on occasion. The three of us piled out of the car withequally large cups of coffee in tow. I took a large slug of coffee, eyeing the place around us. St. Louis was colder. I frowned, watching the vapor from my breath billow out of my nose like smoke.

"Alright, so what are we doin' here at five-thirty in the morning?" Dean prompted his brother with an irritated huff. I rolled my eyes, _so not a morning person_. I scoffed to myself, _when was Dean Winchester _ever_ a morning person? Probably never._

Sam looked at us, the apparent ragged look of exhaustion taking place, though was more evident in his eyes. He hadn't slept long either, "I realized something," he began, "The videotape shows the killer goin' in, but not comin' out."

Dean rolled his eyes tiredly, "So, he came out the back door?" He ventured, snaking an arm around my waist, pulling me into him as he leaned against the hood of the car. I felt his chin rest on my shoulder.

"Right," Sam replied, "So there should be a trail to follow," he continued to speak as he crossed the road to the alleyway beside the house, "A trail the police would never pursue."

"'Cause they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside." Dean stated to him, "I still don't know what we're doin' here at 5:30 in the morning." He grumbled, directing the statement towards me. I shrugged, feeling the weight of Dean's head on my left shoulder. He groaned at my movement, not bothering to move.

"I vote that we try to dosomethin' that doesn't involve creepy crawlies, supernatural bein's, or cold." I suggested with a sigh, taking note of the billowing stacks of steam coming from my mouth. Dean's lips quirked up at the mention of a vacation.

"I second that motion," he replied with a hint of enthusiasm in his voice. I chuckled at him, pulling away from our embrace to join Sam in his investigation. Dean stayed behind however, still leaned up against the car, fighting off his exhaustion and nursing his cup of coffee.

I took another slug, glancing around the ground and nearby brush, while Sam took to the dumpster. A large yawn racked through me that seemed to travel back to Dean as he yawned in return, causing me to laugh quietly. It was always funny how a yawn could be picked up so quickly.

Sam had wandered further down the alleyway, pausing at a nearby telephone pole fixated on something. Growing curious, I crossed the street to where he was at, catching the sight of the smeared substance on the pole, giving Sam an uneasy look. It looked a fresh.

"Blood," he murmured.

I glanced up from the pole, looking around, "Somebody must've come this way."

"Yeah, but the trail ends. I don't see anything over here." Dean called out, motioning his coffee around to nothing in particular. Not even a minute went by as an ambulance rushed pastus, sirens wailing. We all stood staring at each other in curiosity before scrambling to the Impala to catch up to the scene in progress.

It wasn't far. A couple of blocks that we could've easily ran or jogged to. Already, there was a large crowd forming of onlookers that surrounded several loads of police cars along with the same ambulance that had passed us earlier. Single filed with Dean in front, we watched an officer put a man into the back of the squad car, shutting the door.

A woman beside me stared on. I glanced her way, "What happened?" I asked, portraying a fellow onlooker.

She shook her head, "He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her."

The familiar worried look from earlier graced Sam's face, "Really?" he asked.

"I used to see him going to work in the morning," the woman replied, "He'd wave, say hello." A disappointed frown pulled at her lips, "He seemed like such a nice guy." She concluded with a confused shake of her head. Dean swallowed hard, exchanging a glance with Sam. We all stared on watching as the squad car pulled away from the scene with the man inside.

_Later_

We took the incentive of looking around the house where the man had allegedly tried to kill his wife, beginning on the outside and around the perimeter. Sam and I looked into a pair of garbage cans outside of the house, finding nothing before we moved to the front.

Dean came up behind us, walking rather quickly, "Hey." Sam and I turned around, "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"

I exchanged a curious look with Sam, "Yeah."

"_Definitely_ our kind of problem," He replied.

Sam straightened up, "What'd you find out?"

"Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex's story." We looked at Dean, nodding to urge him on, "Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked." He finished.

"So, he was two places at once." I stated, crossing my arms.

He nodded with a smirk, "Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house, police think he's a nutjob."

"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way," Sam mused.

"Could be the same thing doin' it, too." Dean suggested allowing Sam and I to think for a moment.

His eyes met Dean's, "Shapeshifter?" Dean shrugged, "Something that can make itself look like anyone?"

I snapped my fingers, "That's it!" I answered with a grin, "Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.

Sam nodded, "Right, skin walkers, werewolves."

"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other," Dean said, "I'm guessin' we've got a shapeshifterprowlin' the neighborhood."

Sam looked to me, "Abby, let me ask you this,"

"Lay it on me, Sammy." I said, smirking.

"In all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" He asked me.

I looked over to Dean, who shrugged at me, "Other than Mothman? Not that I know of," I replied honestly, receiving an eye roll from Sam at my sarcasm.

Sam moved over to the alleyway, "I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way." He said pointing to the other side of the road.

"Just like your friend's house," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam replied, "And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared." He shrugged, obviously being stumped from the loss of the trail. Dean's lips pressed into a thin line.

"Well, there's another way to go," I suggested causing them to look at me with curious eyes. "Down." We looked down to see a manhole where the trail left off with steam billowing out of it from the temperature change of morning.

_Sewers_

It was incredibly dim down in the sewer, given that it was underground with minimal lighting. Dean had gone down first and was already moving around, investigating while Sam came down after him, and finally, I climbed down, hopping down from the third step.

Upon inhaling, I gagged. I've smelled worse, but oh my word, this was rank. Dean's head turned in my direction with a concerned look flashing in his eyes. I waved him off, dismissing the sudden urge to vomit.

Sam glanced my way, concerned as well. It was unusual for me to react the way I did.

I held my hand over my nose, "I bet this runs right by your friend, Zack's house." I told Sam, trying to get my brothers back on task. Looking along the length of the sewer, Sam nodded.

"The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around," He said.

Dean had noticed something, "I think you're right. Look at this." We looked down seeing a pile of blood and skin on the ground. My face skewed in a look of utter disgust, mirroring Sam and Dean's reactions.

"Oh…that is _nasty_." I grimaced, "This ain't from the victims, is it?" I asked, looking to Dean as he kneeled down, folding out his pocket knife to examine some of the skin that was in the pile.

"You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds." He said.

Sam grimaced as well, "That is sick." Dean placed the bloody pile of skin back onto the ground with an audible squish. It was time to check the arsenal.

Up and out of the sewer-away from the bloody squish of skin-we were back at the Impala. Dean dug into his pocket for the keys, placing it into the keyhole to the trunk and opened it, sifting around.

"Well, one thing I learned from Dad," He said, taking out a box of ammunition handing it to me, "Is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is," He then rested his arms on the lid of the trunk, "There's one sure way to kill it."

Sam smirked, "Silver bullet to the heart."

Dean inclined his head, impressed at his brother, "That's right." I arched my brow at them with a smile, still holding the box of ammunition. Abruptly, Sam's cell phone began to ring. Dean and I looked at him, inclining him to answer it.

"This is Sam." He answered. Sam fell silent for a moment, "We're near Zack's, we're just checkin' some things out." Dean and I looked at him curiously. He mouthed, _Bec_, before his brows furrowed, "What are you talkin' about?"

I handed Dean the box of ammunition. He took it, giving me a look about Sam. Whatever Rebecca was telling him, it wasn't good.

Sam scoffed, "Why would you do that?"

As Rebecca went on the other line, Sam's face paled slightly, "Bec—," he tried to say, then stopped, being cut off. A quick sigh left his mouth, "We're tryin' to help." Again, Sam fell quiet. "Bec, I'm sorry, but—." Sam's stature sagged with disappointment. I frowned. That's all he was ever wanting to do is help her. Dean placed the box into the trunk, slamming the lid. He sighed, crossing over to where Sam stood.

"I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about." Dean told him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just—it'd be easier if—,"

Sam sighed, "If I was like you." He finished for Dean in a grim tone.

"Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people." He told him, "But I'll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain't without perks." Dean smirked, handing Sam a gun. Checking it, Sam placed the weapon in the back of his jeans. I checked mine, ensuring that a silver bullet was already loaded and in the chamber before I placed it in the back of my jeans as well. We headed back into the sewer, flashlights in tow.

Into the sewer once again, I reeled over the fact that it took me no more than a minute to end up slipping in that goopy pile of shed skin and blood, messing up my jeans and shoes just for the simple fact that they were my favorite pair.

_Always with the favorites!_

"I think we're close to its lair," Dean said.

"Why do you say that?" I asked, straightening up from swatting mud and blood and whatnot from my pants. From the disgusted look I received from both Sam and Dean, I was almost afraid to look.

"Because there's another puke-inducing pile next to your face." He stated. I slowly turned my head, seeing another pile of the goopy blood and skin within mere inches of my face.

"Oh, god!" I groaned out, feeling my body convulse into another round of gags. _What is wrong with me?! I was never this bad!_ Dean and Sam frowned while they moved around freely, finding a pile of clothes tossed carelessly in the corner.

"Looks like it's lived here for a while." Dean said.

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with?" Sam asked me. I turned to answer him from my gagging fit, seeing the shapeshifter. It was still in the form of the man from earlier. My stomach sank.

"Dean!" I shouted, alerting him. He turned, getting punched in the shoulder, and fell to the ground as the shapeshifter ran no time, Sam and I both drew our weapons, firing off several shots, unfortunately, missing the damned thing.

I rushed over to Dean's side, tucking my hair behind my ear, "Shit!"

"Get the son of a bitch!" Dean grunted out, struggling to his feet with his arm on his shoulder. I nodded, racing down the way we came with Sam, knowing that Dean wasn't going to be far behind.

Up on the surface, we were standing at the Impala, panting.

Sam glanced around, still searching for the shapeshifter, "Alright, let's split up."

Dean nodded, looking to me and Sam, "Alright." He agreed, "Abs, go with Sam and check the street. You'll cover more ground that way and keep an eye on him." I nodded, "Same with you, Sam. Look after her." Sam nodded, knowing that already. "I'll meet you two around the other side."

"Alright," I agreed. Turning with Sam, I was stopped by Dean grabbing my arm. I looked at him.

"Be careful, alright?" I looked at Dean in silence with Sam waiting for me a little ways ahead.

Sensing his uneasiness of us splitting up anyways, I smiled at him reassuringly, "Always. Just don't go gettin' sucker punched on me again, alright?" I teased, earning a smirk from him. Stealing a quick peck on the lips, I threw Dean a wink and turned, catching up to Sam and touched his arm signaling that I was ready before we took off at a jog down the street.

_Dean's Point of View_

Watching Abigail and Sam jog off down the street and out of sight, I blew out a curt breath. We had to find this son of a bitch tonight. It was all or nothing. Who knows how many more people will get hurt tonight…if not worse.

Clenching my jaw, I took off down the alleyway, gun drawn. The thought of this _thing_ possibly harming Sammy or Abigail sent chills down my spine. From the thought, I had to allowit become fuel for me to find it.

"Where are you, ya son of a bitch?" I growled out from under my breath. A passerby in the alley with me caught sight of my gun, turning away out of fright. She wasn't the shifter.

_Go figure_. I thought as I pushed further. This wasn't going to be easy. For all I know, this thing could've shed its coat once again, impersonating another innocent person.

It seemed with each passing second that I didn't find any signs of the shifter, the more anxious I grew. Not that it meant anything. Just putting that out there.

I came to the corner of the alley and paused upon hearing sounds of movement from the other side. Raising my gun, I squeezed my eyes shut, took a deep breath, and stepped around it, aiming for whatever may be standing.

Instead of the Asian man's imposter, I came face to face with Abigail.

She raised her hands with that smile of hers, "Whoa, whoa. Hey. Just me."

I let out a loud breath, "Jesus, Abs, what're you doing here?"

Abigail laughed lightly, "Didn't scare ya, did I?"

I lowered my gun, hanging my head a little, "Yeah, just a little." I couldn't help but look around, "Where's Sam?"

"Oh, he's at the Impala." She replied casually, pointing her thumb in the opposite direction, "Couldn't find anythin'."

Furrowing my brows in confusion, I looked at her, "Why didn't you stay with Sam, Abigail? That son of a bitch could ambush him at any moment."

Abigail's eyes steeled at my words, "I don't think that's much of a problem."

I frowned, "What?" I watched as her eyes quickly turned silver. That was when I realized, that wasn't Abigail, "Son of a—!" In one swift movement Abigail had done kicked up a pipe, caught it, and swung, knocking me out cold.

That was all she wrote.

_Abigail's Point of View_

Sam and I moved along the street with precision, careful to ensure that our weapons were not in view. Our eyes examined each person's face we passed on the street.

"You see anything?" Sam asked, glancing to a man in a suit.

I looked to a woman, and shook my head, "Not a damn thing, Sammy."

He frowned, "You think Dean found it?"

"I hope so." I replied, looking to a teenaged boy wearing headphones on the street corner. I was ready for this to be done. The gagging fit I had made me nauseous, and that was weird.

"You feeling alright?" he suddenly asked.

I halted, "Yeah, why?"

Sam shrugged, "You looked a little green down in the sewers, I wasn't sure if you hulking out on Dean and I, or getting sick."

Lashing out a playful right hook to his shoulder, I snorted, "Oh, yeah. _Totally _hulking out, Sammy. You know that." We both shared a laugh, "But really, I'm fine. It was just the smell." Sam nodded, falling silent. We continued our search on the street before finally rounding back to the Impala when we came up empty to wait for Dean to return.

"I'm just gonna be over here," I told Sam, wandering off when I saw him nodding. I ventured up the alley a little ways leaving him to himself. With my Maglite in my hand, I aimed it into each dark space, nook and cranny, leaving no rock unturned. Glancing back to Sam, I caught a glimpse of Dean approaching him before I looked back into the alleyway.

My cellphone started to buzz in my jacket pocket. Taking it out, I looked at the caller ID on the screen, seeing that it was Dean, I blew out a breath, "Hey you."

"_Hey, where are you? Sam and I are waiting for you."_

I rolled my eyes, "I'll be right there."

"_Alright, love you._"

Taking the phone away from my ear with furrowed brows, I looked at it, then placed it back to my ear, "…You, too."

Tucking it back into my pocket, I turned, readying my gun. There was one thing I knew for sure, Dean wasn't the one to express himself in words. Though on occasion he did, and even then, it wasn't often. Something's happened.

Making my way back to the Impala, I noticed Dean leaning on the rear quarter panel with a hand in his pocket, hiding the other, and Sam was nowhere in sight. I could've seen that it wasn't him a mile away, and his voice over the phone sure as Hell wasn't his.

The shifter caught sight of me, twisting 'Dean's' face into a smile, "Hey beautiful."

I eyed him, "Hey." I looked around, "Where's Sam? Thought you were ready to go?"

He chuckled at me, "Ah, you know how Sammy is. Tall man, tiny bladder."

I smirked at the shifter's foolish attempt at being Dean, "Sammy isn't going to pee in public, you know that."

The shifter laughed, "Yeah, you're right. Stupid me, huh?"

I nodded, pursing my lips at the humanoid, "Let's cut the crap, shall we? If you're gonna pretend you're Dean, at least do the research. You're not Dean." I stated, "I can see what you are a mile away." The shifter's eyes widened at me, "What have you done with my brothers?"

The shifter's eyes glanced to the other side of the Impala quickly, and lunged at me with a crowbar in his hand. I moved quickly, drawing my gun and narrowly missed the blow, feeling my Maglite getting ripped from my hands. Hearing metal collide with glass, I cringed seeing that he hit the Impala's rear passenger side window, shattering it.

_Dean is so gonna kill me._ I thought, when the shifter lunged at me again. The crowbar made contact with my left hand, instantly making me drop my weapon as I cradled my hand against my stomach, staggering backwards. I had a feeling that some bones were either fractured or broken in my hand. 'Dean' stalked towards me with a fierce, animalistic look in 'his' eyes. With ragged breaths, I took a step backwards, catching sight of Sam lying on the ground, knocked cold.

"What'd you do to him?" I snarled out.

His eyes slid to Sam's unconscious body, "He'll live, for now."

I clenched my jaw, lunging back at 'Dean' and collided my fist against the right side of his face. The shifter stumbled back, holding his face, crowbar still in his hand, he started to laugh.

"Cheap shot, bitch." He grated, swinging the crowbar at me again. And this time, I wasn't so lucky. I felt the side of metal collide with the right side of my face, practically dropping to the floor like a ton of bricks. Dots and flashes of light blocked out my vision with pain exploding throughout my face. The sounds of boots scraping against the ground got closer.

Blinking furiously, I saw the shifter kneel beside me, taking a fistful of my hair and jerked my head up, forcing me to look at him. His eyes scanned my face for a brief moment, dropping my head back onto the pavement. He stood up.

"Enough of the foreplay," was the last thing I heard from him seeing the toe of his boot collide with my face and I blacked out.

_Unknown Location_

When I came to, my head and hand was pulsing. A soft, pained groan passed my lips when I lifted my head to see where I was at. The room was dimly lit, though with the minimal amount of light casted from lit candles, I couldn't help but see that I was in a dingy, dusty room and I began to the looks of the room, I had a feeling that I was in an abandoned industrial building or warehouse. A chill ran through me, feeling nauseated from the pain in my head. I swallowed down a knot in my throat, grimacing tasting blood. I attempted to reach for my face and found resistance on my arms and blinked a few times, not seeing Sam or Dean in sight. A spike of panic drove through me as I looked around with widened eyes.

"Sam? Dean?! Where are you?" I called out hoarsely, "Sam!"

Groaning alerted me from the opposite side of the room, seeing that it was Sam tied up to a wooden post, his neck and arms restrained.

I struggled again, "Sam! Sam, you have to wake up!" His face scrunched at my words, "C'mon!"

When Sam finally looked up to see me, his eyes widened in shock, "Oh my god, Abigail. What happened?"

The shifter, still taking on Dean's image, walked in and stopped seeing Sam and I were both conscious. The shifter didn't say a word as the sound of skin making contact with skin resonated throughout the room. I gaped as the image of Dean backhanded Sam, who groaned after the hit and looked up at him with a dark scowl.

"What did you do with, Dean, ya sonofabitch?" I demanded.

"I wouldn't worry about him, though—," He gave me a quick onceover, "I'd worry about you."

Sam glared at Dean's image, "Where is he?"

"You don't really wanna know." He chuckled, carrying a bag and set it away from Sam and me. He knelt in front of it, rummaging through the contents, "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family—," He then added with an amused shake of his head, peering over his shoulder at me, then to Sam, "I thought I came from a bad background."

"What do you mean, _learn_?" I asked, frowning at the shifter's words.

Stiffening, 'Dean' suddenly grabbed his head in pain and grimaced. Sam and I shared a confused glance as the shifter slowly relaxed from what looked like a migraine.

_Good, I hope it hurts like a bitch_. I thought.

Getting to his feet, the shifter crossed over in front of Sam, "He's sure got issues with you," The shifter began with an amused smirk, "You got to go college. He had to stay home." He paused, then corrected himself, "I mean, _I_ had to stay home. With Dad." The shifter's body twisted in my direction, pointing a finger at me, "And _her_." He spat out, "You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me." The shifter sneered, "Where the hell where you?" His voice turned eerily calm. Like a flip of a switch, the shifter turned his attention to me. A wicked smirk tugged at 'Dean's' lips, "Not sayin' that it all bad."

Sam tried to lunge after the shifter from his spot, unsure of what the shifter had in store for me. The look in his eyes was evident that he would've killed him if he were loose.

The humanoid straightened up to walk over to me, placing a hand above my head and the other on my chin. I jerked back with a hiss feeling a sharp jolt of pain in my chin before he jerked my face roughly and crashed his lips onto mine. I reeled back away from the unwanted contact, spitting what I was sure of was blood and saliva at him.

Those false hazel eyes of his glittered in malice, blood splattering across his face and coated his lips from the kiss. Another onslaught of pain lit up my face, realizing that the son of a bitching thing backhanded me as well.

Staring defiantly back at 'Dean', I found the courage to smirk, "My dead mother hits harder than you." The creature snarled his lip in a deep sneer, rearing his hand back for another go.

"Where is my brother?" Sam asked in an attempt to avert the shifter's attention. Allowing his hand to fall, the humanoid turned to face Sam, wiped the blood and spit off his face, and leaned in close.

"I _am_ your brother." He said, "See, deep down, I'm just jealous." A deep frown set in, "You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later," He looked to me darkly, "Everybody's gonna leave me."

"What are you talkin' about?" Sam asked watching the shifter back away from him.

"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin', just _poof_. Left me with your sorry asses." He continued, throwing me another icy look. "But, still, this life? It's not without its perks." A smirk tugged at his lips and he laughed, "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky." His eyes stayed on me, "You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance."

I glared at him, and if looks could kill, by _God_, that bastard would've been sent to the last pit of Hell, no questions asked!

Dean's image tilted his head and grinned, "Let's see what happens." He straightened up as if he were leaving, but instead, came back to me, "And when I get back," A low chuckle resonated from deep within his chest, "I am going to have _so much_ fun with you."

In no time, he was back infront of me, "See, everything Dean knows, _I_ know." His hands reached out, sliding them up my legs, between my thighs and up to my chest-giving my breasts a painful squeeze. I fought hard not to grimace in pain from it, "I know everything you like, sugar-pie."

"Fuck off, you freak." I hissed out.

He pursed his lips with a _tsk, tsk, tsk, "Me_? A_freak_?" The shifter chuckled again, "You're the freak, _Abigail_, is it?" His teeth flashed in a grin, "Dean's afraid of you because of what you are. He can't _stand_ being near you, or hearing you speak, you undignified _hick_. You are _nothing_ but a piece of ass and a burden on him."

He smirked, "And him not knowing your little secret?" His finger rose, shaking it in a teasing manner, "Such a downer." He patted my legs, "When I get back, I'll fix you right up."

I swallowed down my rising horror, "What the hell are you talking about _secret_? I have none."

Something flashed in his eyes, "I was you for a brief moment." He admitted, "You see, you've got a little bun in the oven."

My eyes widened as I shook my head in defiance, "No." I glanced to Sam, whose eyes widened at the news, and back to him, "That's not possible."

"Take it from someone who was you." The shifter replied, "I _know_.Don't go anywhere, sweet cheeks." A laugh escaped him while he left Sam and I to ourselves. His laughs echoed even after his departure, taking this as the opportunity to try and escape.

I looked to Sam, "We gotta get out of here and find Dean."

"You're _pregnant_?!" He stated.

"Not now, Sammy." I bit out from the pain in my hand, struggling against the ropes.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

I glared at him, "Yes, Sammy. I'm _fine_."

I felt the ropes slacken around my wrists after a few minutes of wrestling with them and smirked. After another jerk and twist, my right hand was free, "That dumb son of a bitch," I rejoiced, pulling my injured left wrist around my front, pulled the rope off, and rubbed them.

"_Damn it_," Sam cursed. I looked up seeing that he had gotten nowhere with his restraints as I brought my left leg up to my chest where I could reach into my shoe and pulled out a small pocket knife. Sam blinked at my ingenious hidden weapon as I grinned at him, cutting the rope that was around my neck, and got up.

"C'mon, Sammy," I said getting behind the wooden beam, beginning with his restraints on his wrists, then on his neck.

Getting to his feet, Sam instantly took my by the arms to take a better look at my face, his lips formed a grim tight line. He turned my face to the side, then back.

I shrugged, "Crowbar to the side of the head, and boot to the face." I answered the unspoken question. He frowned, eyes sliding down to my stomach. I pulled away from him feeling uneasy, "I'm _not_ pregnant, Sammy."

"Abigail—," Sam tried to speak. I held my hand up at him, cutting him off.

"_Don't._" I bit out, "You do not breathe a _word_ of this to Dean," I stated in a dangerously low tone, "I am _not_, and never _will _be, pregnant. Got it?" He furrowed his brows at me, wanting to speak, but knowing that I wasn't going to listen, Sam merely nodded. A short moment passed, Sam and me staring at each other in an uneasy silence. I gave him a quick onceover and nodded, "Good. Now we need to find Dean."

Sam nodded, changing the subject, "Yeah, before _he_ comes back to finish what he's started." I frowned at the thought, feeling Sam reach out and touch my arm in an unspoken promise that the shifter wasn't getting near me again. A cough from the back of the room we were in spooked me. I spun around quickly with my knife at the ready, half-expecting the humanoid to be standing there.

"That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature." Dean's voice called out, half-muffled by something. Sam and I let out a small laugh of relief.

"Yeah, it's us." He assured his brother, as we both began to search for him.

"Us? What do you mean, _us?_" Dean inquired with caution in his words.

Sam and I looked at each other with confusion residing in our eyes at Dean's question, "Uh, Abigail's with me." He replied a little bewildered at Dean's question.

We saw movement nearby showed us that it was Dean as he shook the cover off of him.

Dean's eyes fell upon me and narrowed with caution, "Are you sure that's really Abigail and not that thing?"

I raised a brow at him, "Uh, yeah. Pretty sure it's just me." I slowly approached him, kneeling by his side and began cutting the ropes loose with my good hand. I glanced at him seeing dried blood and nasty bruise on his forehead.

"You alright?" I asked him.

He grunted a reply, catching sight of the blood on my face when he glanced up at me. Dean turned his head, jaw slackening in shock at the sight of the bruise and cut, along with the dried blood that had encrusted itself on my face, "He do that to you?"

I hesitated and nodded, wipingwhat blood I could away from my chin with my sleeve. His eyes darkened with malice, "_Oh_, I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch the next time I see him!" He swore, his words holding a grim promise. I grabbed his hand not speaking and pulled him up from his place on the ground. Once standing, Dean placed his hands on each side of my face, inspecting for more injuries, seeing my hand swelled up and bruising already.

_Probably tallying up how many times he was going to get to kill him, _I thought ruefully, and winced when Dean brushed his fingers against my hand. Dean quickly retracted his hand, looking back up at me with an apologetic look.

"He went to Rebecca's lookin' like you," I told him softly.

A smirk graced his features, though the malicious look in his eyes never left, "Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one." He replied in a teasing manner, earning a confused look from Sam.

"Yeah, that's the thing." Sam said, either ignoring Dean's teasing statement or didn't get the memo, "He didn't just look like you, he _was_ he was becoming you."

Dean looked at Sam, "What do you mean?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories."

"You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?" He asked, growing curious as he placed a hand on my hip, pulling me closer to him.

I shrugged, "Yeah, somethin' like that."

"I mean, maybe that's why he doesn't just kill us." Sam inquired, catching the frown from Dean.

"Maybe he needs to keep us alive," He said, "Psychic connection. He's got a hell of an arm, I'll tell you that." I tilted my head. I didn't need to be reminded of that. Sam rushed to a boarded up window and began tugging, prying one off.

Sam looked at him, "Which one of us did he take on?"

Dean's brows rose, looking down at me and I furrowed mine at him.

"You got to be kidding me." Sam said, with a quirk of his lips, "You got knocked out by Abigail."

"Dude, what was I supposed to do?" He hissed out, pulling away from me to join Sam, "I wasn't going to shoot my girlfriend!"

Sam smirked at him, when the last board was pried off, "Whatever you say. Come on, we gotta go. He's probably at Rebecca's already." Sam and I helped Dean up through the window in order to prevent any further strain on his injured shoulder. With gritted teeth, he clambered through, making it out.

Sam grabbed me by the waist, hoisting me up into the window sill where I climbed through, being met by Dean catching me with his good arm, bringing me into his body. The only one left was Sam, as he finally climbed through. We looked around us seeing that we were out in a dark alley.

"Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police." Sam urged us, getting ready to take a step.

Dean's brows furrowed at him, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You're gonna put an APB out on me?"

He shrugged sheepishly at him, "Sorry."

Dean sighed, taking a look and motioned his head in a direction, "This way."

We were standing on the sidewalk staring into a shop with a television display showing a news report, "_An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home._" A sketch of Dean appeared on the screen.

Dean frowned, gesturing to the screen, "Man! That's not even a good picture."

"It's good enough." Sam spoke while he looked over his shoulder at passing civilians, spotting an alleyway before walking towards it. Dean looked at his sketch with a frown.

"Man!" he sighed out, taking me by the hand and followed Sam into the alley where he stepped into a puddle. He groaned, jumping out of it rather quickly when Sam gave him a cautious look.

"Come on," he said, then stopped in thought, "They said attempted murder. At least we know—,"

"I didn't kill her." Dean cut in.

Sam nodded, almost lost in thought, "We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's alright."

Dean halted, "All right, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him."

"We have no weapons. No silver bullets," Sam pointed out.

"The guy's walkin' around with my face, _okay_?" Dean replied, clearly frustrated in the situation he's in, "It's a little personal. I wanna find him."

I put my good hand on my forehead from the splitting headache and peered up at Sam and Dean, "Okay," I said, "Where do we look?"

He shrugged, "Well, we could start with the sewers."

I stared at him, "Dean, we have no weapons. He stole our guns, we need more."

Sam's brows pulled together, "The car?"

"I'm bettin' he drove over to Rebecca's." Dean replied, nodding.

"The news said he fled on foot," I murmured, "I bet it's still parked there."

Dean's features scrunched indicating that he was upset, "The thought of him drivin' my car."

Sam nodded, "All right, come on."

We began walking again, "It's killin' me." Dean threw out.

"Let it go." Sam replied.

_Rebecca's House_

As we rounded the corner, Dean caught sight of the Impala, a look of relief washed over him.

"Oh, there she is!" He said, raising his hand in the car's direction, "Finally, something went right tonight."

I smiled sheepishly, "Yeah…about that."

Sam and Dean looked at me quizzically.

"What?" Dean asked.

I scratched the back of my head, peering down at my muddy shoes, "The uh…passenger rear window's kinda busted out." Dean's face drained of color.

"What did you do?!" He exclaimed, horrified.

"I didn't do anythin', Dean Winchester!" I hissed out, raising my hands in defense, "You—I mean, the shapeshifter _you_ did it." He let out a pitiful groan.

"Are you freakin' serious right now?" Dean looked absolutely devastated.

I frowned, "Would you rather my brains be splattered over the car?"

Dean's brows furrowed at me, his eyes swirling with so many different emotions. I couldn't tell if he was mad, relieved that Sam and I weren't dead, or devastated over something happening to 'baby'. The man really loved that car, "You're not driving baby ever again." He stated. I rolled my eyes, he took off at a jog to inspect her and stopped as a squad car appeared, parking next to the Impala, "Oh, crap." We spun around seeing another car parked a few yards away. Dean froze, looking for a way to get out, "This way, this way." He instructed, moving to a fence.

Sam shoved me in that direction, "You go with Dean. I'll hold 'em off."

I resisted somewhat, "Wait, what are you talking about? They'll catch you." Dean was already climbing, pausing as he watched our exchange.

Sam shook his head, "Look, they can't hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca's." I nodded, taking to the fence, "Guys," I halted, looking to him, "Stay out of the sewers," He told us. I hopped over, exchanging a look with Dean, "I mean it!"

Dean grabbed my wrist by this time and started to drag me into the brush, waving him off, "Yeah, yeah!"

By the time we were out of sight, I heard a police officer shouting at Sam, "Don't move! Keep your hands where I can see 'em." I looked over my shoulder with a worried look.

"Hey, he's going to be alright." Dean said, pulling me into the shadows. He pushed me up against a brick wall, pressing his body against mine to shield us from sight. His heart pounded loudly against the side of my face, my arms wrapped around his waist. Dean peered down at me, eyes looking over my battered face once more with a clenched jaw, "Are you sure you're alright?" He asked.

I nodded, "Yeah."

A couple of hours had passed by slowly as we stayed in our place. He held me close to his side as we waited for the squad cars to vacate the premises. Dean then turned his head upon hearing cars pulling out from a distance, their strobe lights flashing out of sight, by now, the sky was beginning to show signs of daybreak.

Dean then placed his hand on my shoulder, signaling for me to stay put as he stepped back away from me, disappearing into the bushes. I waited for a short moment, seeing Dean poke his head back through, motioning his head.

"C'mon." He urged.

Approaching the car, Dean's brows pulled together at the sight of the busted out window. I felt guilty.

"Dean, I'll fix it." I said quietly. He looked at me, lips pulled together in a thin line.

He shook his head at me, "That's not the point, Abs. You and Sammy aren't dead." He tilted his head, "Yeah, my car's been abused by you once again." I rolled my eyes, earning a smile from him, "But you two are the most important things in my life. What the bastard has done to you," Dean shook his head, shutting his eyes, "That isn't acceptable. I won't let him get away with it." He pulled me into him again, pressing his lips to my temple.

I nodded in silence breathing in his scent, feeling up his chest for his necklace. I pulled back with furrowed brows, "Where's your amulet?"

Dean's eyes widened in a panicked state, "What?" He looked down, feeling for it as well, "Son of a bitch! He took it!" I frowned at the thought of the shifter taking Dean's amulet. He's wore it for as long as I could remember. Dean mumbled curses under his breath as pulled away from me, trying the driver side door. He unlocked and got in, popping the trunk. Getting back out, he rounded to the back, lifting the trunk lid and fished out the first aid kit. I looked at him confused.

He set it on the roof of the car, "Come here."

Doing as I said, I approached him. Dean opened the kit, taking out several alcohol prep pads and what looked like a wrist splint. He turned to me tearing open a pack of prep pads with his teeth. The strong smell of alcohol stung my nose.

"Turn your head." He instructed. I turned my head slightly, and cringed from the stinging sensation. Dean rolled his eyes, "Quit bein' such a wimp, Abs. You've been through worse."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered feeling the coolness of the pad move down my temple, cheek, and neck. I was grateful for Dean despite our bantering. He made an attempt at cleaning the blood off my face as well as bandaging my hand before he placed it in the splint. For someone to have such a bad-ass exterior, Dean also had a nurturing, caring side that I have only saw with Sam, me, and as of late, children and victims. Even then, he was still a little harsh on them.

After he was done, Dean shut the kit and placed it back into the trunk, opening the spare-tire cover to get to the arsenal. I took the opportunity to fish out my bag, getting a different shirt. I leaned over the side of the car, peering into the side mirror managing to see under my eyes were already black. I frowned at how I looked. Somehow, I always ended up with the short end of the stick.

Deep within my mind, I kept heard Dean's voice echoing, except it wasn't Dean's voice, it was the shifter. It just kept repeatinglike a broken record, _Left me with your sorry asses_…_You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance…And when I get back, I am going to have _so much_ fun with you…See, everything Dean knows, I know_…_I know everything you like, sugar-pie._

I shivered, growing nauseous at the memory, hearing more_; Me_? _A freak?You're the freak, Abigail, is it? Dean's afraid of you because of what you are. He can't stand being near you, or hearing you speak, you undignified hick. You are nothing but a piece of ass and a burden on him…And him not knowing your little secret…You see, you've got a little bun in the oven._

A rise of anger spread through me like wildfire. There's no way Dean would act like that, or even say that…would he? I frowned, straightening up to pull my shirt off. I grabbed up one of Dean's old long-sleeved shirts that I had stolen years ago and tugged it over my head, shoving my arms through each of the sleeves, and bunched them up above my elbow.

I heard the sounds of ammunition clips click from behind me, and I turned seeing Dean load two pistols, "I'm sorry, Sam. But you know me—I just can't wait." He looked up at me, eyeing my new attire, "C'mon, we gotta shapeshifter to find." Dean closed the trunk as I walked up to his side, handing me a pistol. I tucked it in the back of my jeans, pulling my shirt over it as we walked towards the nearest manhole.

_Sewers_

Back into the sewer, Dean and I had come across the dimly lit abode of the shifter, searching for any signs that it was around. We stepped past and over several vomit-inducing piles of skin and blood on the floor, signaling that we were close.

Hearing a scuffling noise, Dean gestured me to follow him into another part of the sewer. We stopped seeing a large figure covered with a sheet and approached it with caution. Upon removal, Dean and I blinked several times, seeing a severely beaten and bloodied, Rebecca tied to a pole with her hand and feet bound together with rope.

"Rebecca?" I exclaimed, kneeling down to her to undo the knots. Rebecca's eyes fell upon Dean and flinched as if he were the shifter, "Hey, hey. It's gonna be alright, Becca." I said calmly.

"What happened?" Dean asked her.

Rebecca began sobbing, as I worked off the rope around her ankles, "I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me." She shook her head, "I don't know, how is that even possible?" She asked, looking absolutely petrified.

Dean looked at her calmly, "It's okay," he told her in reassurance, he approached the both of us, just as I untied her hands. Dean held out his hand to her, "Come on. Can you walk?" he asked.

Rebecca nodded, taking a hold of his hand.

"Okay, we've gotta hurry." I told them with a glimpse of worry in my eyes, "Sam went to see you." I said, already looking for the way out.

It didn't take us long to make it back to Rebecca's house. By the time we were inside, Sam and the shifter were fighting. However, the shifter was back in Dean's image. Dean and I stepped into the room, seeing the brawl. The shifter had Sam pinned, coming a hair delivering the final blow. Dean and I drew our guns.

"Hey!" He called out, catching the humanoid's attention.

He climbed off of Sam, growling. He lowered himself, readying to lunge at us. Without hesitation, Dean and I fired, planting two silver bullets into his chest, directly into his heart. It didn't take a rocket scientist to determine that by the time the shifter had hit the ground, he was dead. Rebecca came into the room shortly after, seeing Sam on the floor, bleeding.

Rebecca flew to him, "Sam!"

I stared at the shifter lying on the ground, dead and clenched my jaw at the sight. I couldn't help but shiver again. The way he had kissed me, put his hands on me…it was intensely nauseating. Dean slowly approached the corpse that had taken his image. Seeing his necklace, Dean yanked it from its neck, giving us a curt nod and put it back around his neck.

_That Morning_

Dean and I were observing a map of the United States that laid spread out across the hood of the Impala and just like I promised him earlier, I had gotten ahold of a window replacement agency to repair the window that had gotten busted out. He had a possessive arm wrapped around me as we talked over various options to go to. Maybe even lay low at my uncle Charlie's place for a couple of days until the excitement of the shifter impersonation of Dean bubbled down.

I glanced up, peering around the Impala's body seeing Sam and Rebecca conversing amongst each other quietly. She looked up at Dean and me, glancing back to Sam, who looked at us with a small smile, shrugging. I gave him a smirk after I caught them laughing before looking back down at the map and pointed to the Florida Keys with a grin.

"We should go there, and you know—" I quirked my head, "-lay low. I mean, long walks on a private beach, fishin', staying late at Margaritaville. The works."

Dean chuckled, "We will. Just you and me, babe. We can leave Sam with a babysitter."

I swatted his shoulder playfully, "Oh, come on. Sam deserves it too."

"You think there's nude beaches?" He asked with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

I laughed, "Only you, Dean Winchester, would only want to be on a nude beach." I caught the flash of his teeth in a grin, "You'd put every man on that beach to shame."

I felt him shift beside me, looking rather pleased at my comment, "You really think so?"

"Why yeah," I replied, throwing him a wink. He chuckled, then kissed me lightly on my temple. The both of us glanced up seeing Sam and Rebecca embrace before parting ways. As Sam descended the steps, we heard Rebecca speak, "Well, will you call sometime?"

Sam turned his head to look at her, "It might not be for a little while."

Content with Sam's reply, Rebecca nodded and looked up to Dean and me, waving. We raised our hands to her in a wave, seeing her walk into her house. I leaned into Dean as Sam approached us.

"So, what about your friend, Zack?" Dean asked as I folded up the map. He began rounding the Impala just as Sam came up to us.

"Cops are blamin' this _Dean Winchester_ guy for Emily's murder. They found the murder weapon in the guy's lair, Zack's clothes stained with her blood. Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with." A smirk graced Sam's face, "Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon." I nodded, smiling for Sam's friend, though Dean rolled his eyes at how the turn of events came out, soiling his good name. Dean opened the driver side door and slid in.

Sam opened the passenger door, sliding in shotgun as I slid in behind him. We were all wore out, beaten, and bruised, and thankfully, still alive. As we pulled away from Rebecca's house, I couldn't help but give it one last look, remembering the shifter's words.

Quietly, I looked to Dean, feeling an uneasy knot form in the pit of my stomach. Was it doubt that what the shifter had said was true? After all, he had taken both of our forms. I looked down at myself, placing the corner of my thumb in my mouth and chewed on the skin around my nail. My eyes stayed mainly at my stomach…there was no way, could it?

"Sorry, man." Dean spoke up, pulling me and undoubtedly, Sam, from our thoughts.

Sam turned his head, "About what?"

A sigh passed Dean's lips, "I really wished things could be different, you know?" He said, "I wish you could just be…Joe College." I blinked, taken aback from Dean's sudden change of heart about Sam's college expedition, given that was probably the best thing Sam could ever get out of his brother.

Sam looked out the window, "No, that's okay," he replied, "You know, the truth is, even at Stanford," he scoffed lightly at himself, "Deep down, I never really fit in."

I caught a smirk form on Dean's face, "Well, that's 'cause you're a freak."

Sam looked over to him, "Yeah, thanks."

"Well, I'm a freak, too," Dean jested, nudging Sam in the side, "I'm right there with ya, all the way."

Sam laughed, "Yeah, I know you are."

"You know, I gotta say—," Dean said suddenly, "I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it."

I blinked, taking my thumb away from my teeth, "Miss what?"

He turned the rearview mirror a little ways to see me, "How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?" A smile tugged at my lips, knowing that Sam was smiling and Dean was grinning. He had a weird sense of humor.

* * *

**What'd you guys think? I hope ya'll enjoyed this chapter of ****_Bad Company_****!**

**I was thinking...I listen to ****_a lot_**** of music while writing these chapters to create a mood within it. Tell me your favorite one that best describes these chapters (and future), and I'll listen to them! Whichever I feel is best suited, I'll update each chapter. with excerpts of the lyrics! Sorta like a reader's playlist! Good idea or no? Let me know what you think! **

**On your mark, get set, review! **


	10. Hookman

**Hi guys! It's been a while since I have posted a chapter, and I apologize! College work has been putting me through the ringers as of late. I have been taking photos and writing anything from 300 word to 500 word essays due within a day of each other. Totally crazy and time consuming when it comes from a procrastinator like myself. (I've spent more time on this chapter, than I have been doing my homework!)**

**Anyways, here's Chapter 8, ****_Hookman_****! I tweaked the ending a bit, though I'm not quite sure if it would be considered reckless, given the condition Abigail *might* be in. ****_Very _****likely that we may have a surprise coming forth soon! I have went over this chapter at least a dozen times because I didn't like how I worded things out, so if there something within this chapter that doesn't sound right, act right, or anything, let me know! I feel like this isn't my best chapter, so lay it on me!**

**I tried to give Dean and Abigail more alone time. So there is a bit of fluff going on. But mainly, I wanted them to talk about what had happened previously (****_Skin), _****as well as their fears of John's disappearance. But that's stated briefly in parts as well. Let me know what you think! Creative criticism is welcome as long as it is respectful!**

** As I have said before in previous chapters, please know that I am always open for new ideas, plots, schemes, tidbits of shows/movies that you'd like to see in this fanfic! All you gotta do is put it in your review and/or private message me! I am more than willing to talk it out with you! Also, I had a request to do ****_Hell House_****. I promise I will get to it as soon as I can get through the rest of the chapters/episodes. And I will be replacing some of them due to my lack of interest as well as story-line within it.**

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

**Enough of my rambling!**

**Disclaimer: ****_Supernatural_**** does not belong to me. Nor does any non-canon/quotes/etc if I used anything from a different franchise. All rights go to them and so on. Abigail, Charlie, and Kara ****_do_**** belong to me, as well as any non-canon chapters.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_Outdoor Café _

_Cedar Rapids, Iowa_

_96 miles or so outside of Ankeny, Iowa_

_March 18__th__, 2006_

Nursing a steaming cup of coffee, I was resting my head on my left wrist, silently running my forefinger along the rim of the cup. I had been nursing a migraine that could take up the state of Texas for the past three hundred miles. Sam was standing at a nearby payphone a few feet away speaking to someone about the whereabouts of John, yet again. It had been five months since Dean and I had seen him, even longer since Sam had.

With a look of intense concentration, Dean was hunched over beside me typing away on Sam's laptop. A few seconds later, Sam hung up the phone and began walking back to the table, looking rather flustered and aggravated.

"Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin' cold over here, Francis." Dean teased, looking up at Sam with a smirk.

Sam cast him a mild glare as he sat in his chair, "Bite me."

I looked up at him, "So, anythin'?" I asked, pausing my finger on the rim.

Sam shook his head, leaning back in his chair, "I had 'em check the FBI's Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations."

"Sam, I'm tellin' ya, I don't think Dad wants to be found." Dean said as Sam looked away in disappointment. The feeling of not finding John was mutual, and honestly, I think it was slowly taking its toll on Dean. He just made sure that it wasn't obvious to Sam or me.

Dean turned the laptop to Sam, "Check this out." He said, "It's a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about a hundred miles from here."

Sam's eyes trailed along the screen, "The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9 Mile Road." He read, looking up to Dean.

"Keep reading." Dean urged him.

Sam looked back at the screen, "Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible."

"Could be something interestin'," I suggested, looking from Dean to Sam.

Sam shrugged, "Or it could be nothing at all." He replied, "One freaked out witness who didn't see anything? Doesn't mean it's the Invisible Man."

"But what if it is? Dad would check it out." Dean pointed out. I tilted my head, _He did have a point_.

_Fraternity_

I chose to sit in the Impala seeing how it would seem less likely to mess up Dean and Sam's attempt of 'fitting in' as new frat boys on campus. Dean, I could definitely see as the frattiest of frat boys, i.e. sex, movies, pranks, the occasional hit of a bong…all of the college goodness it had to offer. While Sam…well, he wouldn't be that much of a frat. Hence the high score on his SATs, being top pick for law school…he was the complete opposite of Dean, but in ways, Sam acted like John.

I smirked, watching the two boys speak with a purple frat boy, Sam would kill me if I had told him that. Still sitting in the backseat, I massaged my temples feeling my head pulse. I still had a knot on the side of my head from where the shifter from the previous job cold cocked me with a crowbar. Thankfully my black eyes had long since went away, my mouth wasn't sore, but there was still evidence on my upper and lower lips where the shifter's boot made contact with them. My hand was definitely fractured, however. It remained in splint until sometime next week. Give or take.

I felt my lips pull into a pooch at the thought of my hand. Dean nor Sam really let me do any of the heavy lifting, which upset me to an extent. I had always pulled my weight between them. Seeing how I was hurt, I began to realize that I might've become a burden on them. Of course Dean wouldn't tell me, or Sam, in fear of possibly hurting my feelings. They always seemed to beat around the bush with me on occasion.

A fully fledged frown pulled my lip down further.

_Sam_.

My eyes narrowed at the thought of his name now. The past two weeks he had been hounding me to take a pregnancy test to find out if I was or wasn't knocked up with Dean's baby. I had the tests hidden in his bag, but I never got to actually doing it. I shrugged shrewdly. Maybe I was scared of the outcome?

During my thoughts, Dean and Sam were approaching the Impala, catching me off guard as Dean banged loudly on the roof. I nearly jumped out of my skin, turning to see Dean grinning at me from outside my window. Letting out an irritated sigh, I leaned my head back with a cringe from my migraine. It was as stubborn as the two boys put together!

Sam and Dean got in, shutting the doors, I cracked an eye open, "How'd it go?"

Dean peered over his shoulder at me, "Victim's girlfriend's was a freshman. Local girl. Supposedly, super-hot, and also, a reverend's daughter." He waggled his brows in a suggestive manner that matched his sneaky grin. I shared an eye roll with Sam at what Dean was implying.

"We're heading to the church to check it out," Sam replied seeming a little irritated about something.

"What's got your underwear in a bunch, Sam?" He looked at me forming his lips in a thin line. Dean sniggered about something, piquing my interest now.

"Yeah, Sammy, tell Abs how you got to paint a fellow frat's body in purple paint." Dean inquired, receiving a glare from him. I managed to grin at that.

Leaning forward, I placed my hand on Sam's shoulder in a sympathetic pat, "So, what's this girlfriend's name?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Lori Sorenson." Sam replied.

_St. Barnabas Church_

Being the first inside the church, I made my way silently into the last row of the church, giving nearby locals a small smile. In front of the congregation stood Reverend Sorenson, "Our hearts go out to the family of a young man who perished. And my personal prayers of thanks go out as well because I believe he died trying to protect my daughter," He spoke in a somber tone, motioning an outstretched arm to his daughter, who had to be Lori, in the front pew. Looking at the girl, she was attractive in a way that Sam might've admired. She wore her brown hair in a half-up, half-down hairdo as she looked to her father, embarrassed.

"And now, as time heals all our wounds, we should reflect on what this tragedy means. To us, as a church-," Reverend Sorenson continued just as Sam and Dean soon entered, the both of them allowing the door to slam loudly. I cringed, twisting my body along with the mass of locals to look at them. Sam froze with an apologetic smile while Dean shrugged.

I shook my head, turning around and sunk into the pew trying to go unnoticed when the two boys slid into the back pew opposite of the one I was sitting at and sat down. I threw them an icy glare that told them, 'Way to be discreet, boys.'

After the awkward silence from the newcomers, the reverend began again, "—as a community, and as a family." Lori had twisted her body around in order to stare at us. I looked away from her, catching her gaze go to Sam before I began fixating on the cross that was behind her father, "The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings." Dean leaned back into the pew, throwing his arms on the back in a relaxed state, "So, please," Sorenson urged, "let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children."

I pulled out my mother's rosary from around my wrist, and bowed my head, hearing a dull thump followed by a grunt of displeasure. I peeked seeing Sam elbow Dean in the side. _Always with these two._ I thought, with a small shake of my head.

It had been a long time since I had stepped foot inside a church.

A little while after the mass had ended, I stayed behind. Silent and observing. The migraine that had taken reign over my head, eased off for the most part.

_Thank God_.

Dean and Sam had stayed a distance from me, seeing how we could probably pass as individuals coming to pay our respects. However, I knew if the opportunity rose, I would pose as a sorority sister from WVU while Dean and Sam were frat brothers from a neighboring college.

Trailing Lori and her friend, I overheard her friend trying to persuade her to go out with her on a girl's night out. I bemused a smile, knowing how relaxed I was when Kara had taken me on one for my birthday a couple of months back. This shifter issue that reigned in my mind made me think I was overdue for another one.

"It's just us girls," Lori's friend, Taylor said, "We're gonna do tequila shots and watch Reality Bites."

Lori shook her head, "My dad makes dinner every Sunday night."

Another round of persuasion from Taylor waived Lori into a 'Maybe, I'll try' response earning a smile from her as the two friends hugged and parted ways. I continued to hang back when Sam and I made eye contact, adverting my eyes to my cellphone; checking unanswered text messages that made me cover my mouth in amusement. They were all from Dean.

"Are you Lori?" I heard Sam ask.

"Yeah," came her reply.

Sam gave her a small smile, "My name is Sam." He introduced, "This is my brother, Dean." He added, motioning his hand to Dean, who waved at her with a smile.

"Hi." He said. Lori returned the gesture with a smile.

Sam continued, "We just transferred here to the university."

Lori looked over Sam with a nod, "I saw you inside."

"We don't wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and..." Sam's voice trailed off, coming to an end of his idea.

Luckily, Dean had backed him up, "We wanted to say how sorry we were."

Sam nodded, "I kind of know what you're going through. I-I saw someone…get hurt once. It's something you don't forget."

I watched Lori nodding slightly at Sam's story, catching sight of Reverend Sorenson approaching. Shoving my phone into my pocket, I stopped him with a smile, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon."

He looked to me offering a kind smile, "Thank you very much. It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message."

I laughed lightly, "It's been a while since I have been to a service like yours."

The reverend nodded, "Have…we met before?" He inquired, drawing out his question in confusion.

"No, I am new in town, actually." I answered, "And I happen to be a transfer student from WVU's Pi Beta Phi's sorority group." The reverend's smile widened a little as he bought into my tale, "Being new is kind of…overwhelmin'. Makes me wish I knew a couple of friendly faces."

Reverend Sorenson nodded, "My daughter, Lori, is in Pi Beta Phi here at the university. Allow me to introduce her to you."

I flashed him a toothy grin, "Oh that would be wonderful! I can't tell you how much I appreciate your kindness."

Sorenson chuckled, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder, "It's God's will that we treat others with kindness and respect…" He trailed off, not catching my name.

"Abigail," I replied.

He nodded, eyes falling onto the splint on my arm, "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to your wrist?"

I looked down at the splint, and laughed softly, "Car accident," I replied rather quickly, "I was lucky to get out alive." The reverend nodded as I allowed him to lead me to where Sam, Dean, and Lori were standing.

Lori looked at her father, not seeing me, "Dad, this is Sam and Dean. They're new students." She explained, earning a smile from him.

"What a pleasure." He said thrilled, taking a look at the three of us, "I would like for you to meet a new transfer student from a sister sorority in WVU." Lori's eyes went to me. I smiled, lifting my hand in a small wave, "This is Abigail."

"Hello." I said sweetly as she looked me over. I was dressed in a pair of distressed, boot cut jeans with a baggy, gray tank top. My brown leather jacket was zipped halfway, allowing my faded American flag scarf to hang out a little. I couldn't help but shift in my boots. I didn't dress like I was in a sorority, though I did dress like I had just arrived here.

My attire was nowhere _near_ the 'monkey suits' Dean and Sam wore whenever they impersonated FBI agents. I felt a lot more comfortable in this. We stood in an awkward silence shortly after introductions were said.

"So, Reverend," Dean suddenly began, taking us out of the awkwardness, "We're new in town, actually," I watched Sorenson tilt his head as an inclination for him to continue, "We were uh, looking for a, um,"

"A church group?" I inquired, earning a grateful look from Dean, "More around the likes of a youth group." I then added, taking over the conversation that would've ended as quickly had Dean continued with it. Church things and Dean didn't mix well, nor did airplanes. I shoved the amusing thought out of my head while the Reverend delved deeper into the conversation of local youth groups and recommended several to me while Dean and Sam pulled Lori out of earshot of her father. I caught snippets of Sorensen prattle on about the need of spreading the Lord's word to the youth, how it seems like more and more youth are slipping down a narrow and dangerous path.

_Boy, he just don't know_, I thought mildly.

When our conversation finally ended, Reverend Sorenson requested for us to stop by for more information. With a wave, I rounded the front of the church, seeing the Impala with Sam and Dean waiting as I climbed into the backseat, I let out a groan as I shrugged off my jacket. Dean and Sam looked at me with smug looks.

"What?"

Dean shook his head, turning the ignition to the Impala, "Nothing."

I arched a brow at him, "So, where to?"

"The library," Sam replied, "We need to look into this a little more."

I nodded, scooting forward to lean on the back of the front seat, "Ah. So, what did Lori say?"

Dean lifted his shoulders, "Essentially, she's saying there's nothing really for the police to work on. Mostly blaming her and thinkin' she's a total wackjob."

"So…" I began, looking from Dean to Sam, "You believe her?"

Sam nodded, "I do."

Dean smirked, "Yeah, I think she's hot, too."

"Dean, honey, you think anything that has two legs and a vagina is hot," I replied with a jesting smirk and patted his shoulder as I slid back, resting my head on the back of my seat. Sam skewed his face with amusement, seeing that Dean pursed his lips, then shrugged at my comment dismissively. I had a point. Dean also knew I went along with his hollow flirts in order to get information. Unknowingly, he glanced into rearview, seeing me move my hands to each of my temples; scrunching my face in pain from my migraine coming back.

Sam shook his head oblivious of what Dean was looking at, "There's something in her eyes, man." He stated, getting back to the job, "Listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car."

I cracked an eye open, "Wait, the body suspended?" I lifted my head a little to look at him.

"That sounds an awfully like the—," Dean began taking his eyes off me, and back to Sam.

Sam nodded at us, cutting in, "Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend."

"That's one of the most famous urban legends ever. You don't think that we're dealing with the Hook Man." Dean inquired.

Sam shrugged, "Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began."

"Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?" I asked.

Sam's shoulder rose again, "Well, maybe the Hook Man isn't a man at all. What if it's some kind of spirit?"

_Library_

When you're at the library, you've not only seen one library, you've seen them all. But in this case, the lights were a little bit brighter than what the past libraries we've been to were. Sitting in between Sam and Dean, all of us watched as an attractive, red-headed librarian came to our table, placing a few-big and utterly dusty-archive boxes in front of us.

My brows rose with awe at the stack. The look on Dean's face was apparent that our feelings were mutual about going through countless records.

"Good lord," I muttered quietly.

"Here you go." She said sweetly. A little _too_ sweet let the truth be known, "Arrest records going back to 1851."

Dean leaned forward, blowing some of the dust off the box and coughed after becoming strangled, "Thanks." He said weakly.

The look the librarian gave Dean sent me all sorts of signals. A little kinky, some perturbed, and some I could almost laugh about. Partially I was imagining how Dean would look coming back with a large 'A' welted across his ass just like in the movie _Tomcats_. I pursed my lips at the thought knowing that he liked kinky when the time was right.

"Okay." I heard her say, taking me from my thoughts as I caught her throwing Dean a flirty wink before she turned on her heels, walking away from the table.

Dean had turned his body, watching the redhead leave with an appraising look before he turned back around, taking out old books, handing one to each of us and opened his, "So, this is how you spent four good years of your life, huh?"

Sam shrugged, "Welcome to higher education."

I sat in silence, chewing on the end of my pen, not really reading what I had in front of me. The course of a few hours had passed, feeling my eyes grow tired before they soon began to cross. My migraine ebbed away only to have a wave of nausea take its place. I allowed my leg to bob up and down in an attempt to will away the nausea. It was thirty seconds later, I realized that it was futile to think I wasn't going to hurl.

I had to get some air or I was going to throw up all over the place. Closing the book in a nonchalant manner, I slowly stood up earning curious looks from Dean and Sam.

"Where you goin'?" Dean asked.

"I'm going outside. I can't stand the smell of these old books." I told him weakly. His brows furrowed with concern.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just need some air." I laughed a little in an attempt to throw them off and caught Sam raising his brow at me. I fought hard to not look at him. He knew something was up.

After a few short moments, Dean nodded, gazing at me, "I'll come get you if we find something." he added. I nodded, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze before I headed to the door.

Once I was outside, I plopped down on the top steps holding my head in my hands, taking deep breaths. It honestly took me no more than a minute to stand up again, descend the steps and into the bushes, emptying the contents of my stomach. My eyes watered up something fierce with each retch until my stomach was officially emptied and continued to dry heave. I felt humiliated over the ordeal.

_Why couldn't I have just went to the bathroom?_ It felt like my head was going to come flying off with each dry heave. I stayed crouched in the position I was in, holding my head in my hands. I felt miserable, sore, and irritated, growing more so, hearing the shifter's voice echoing in my ears; _You've got a little bun in the oven._

I narrowed my eyes to the ground, _No I don't._

I shook my head fervently, hoping the playback would go away. Wiping the tears off my face, I straightened up and pulled my hair into a loose bun. What I would have loved to do more than anything right now was crawl into bed and sleep it off. _But no_. This was a job and I had to keep my part of the weight in line.

I blew out an irritated sigh, _Eye of the Tiger, Abs._

Running a shaky hand through my bangs a couple of times, I raked my nails against my scalp to feel something _other_ than nausea. I blew out another sigh, and turned. I didn't exactly want to go back in the library at the moment, so I decided to head to the Impala. Opening the driver side door, I leaned over, putting a hand on the seat and pulled up the latch to release the trunk.

Shutting the door with a mild slam, I rounded the back, lifting up the black trunk lid before I grabbed Sam's bag and opened it; searching through his clothes and felt the sleek box he had hid for me. I tore open one side, pulling out a wrapped stick, giving it an uneasy look. I quickly shoved the box back into Sam's bag, zipped it up and opened my bag, opening a box of tampons, shoving the wrapped stick into it like it was diseased. I knew Dean wouldn't dare go near it…things like that grossed him out for some reason. Even when we were teenagers, he'd make Sam go get them.

I laughed to myself at the memory as I placed the box back into its spot, then took out a small jug of mouthwash—getting a mouthful and swished it around. I felt somewhat better after the taste of bile was replaced by the tingly mint flavor of the mouthwash, spitting it out onto the asphalt with a loud _splat_. I tossed the bottle back into my bag, shutting the trunk lid, and leaned against the passenger side of the Impala allowing my thoughts run wild.

In silence, with the exception of birds and people talking around me, I began to mull over the hundreds of thoughts that ran rampant through my mind at least once daily. The same thoughts that ate away at my core, doubting what Dean and I have…if it's real at all…if he's really afraid of me because of what I have. I cursed the shifter quietly and frowned, balling my hand into a fist, hearing the scrape of boots approach me from behind.

"Hey you." It was Dean.

I looked over my shoulder at him, forcing a weak smile to my lips, "Hey you."

"I figured you were going to be here. You looked like you were about to hurl." He stated, eyes focusing on a loose strand of hair, reaching out to tuck it behind my ear. His fingers lingered on the side of my cheek, "Are you sure you're alright?"

I nodded. Then I hesitated, before shaking my head, casting my gaze down to the pavement, "I haven't been feeling well since we've left Port Washington." I murmured, feeling his hand drop to my uninjured wrist and pulled me against his body, wrapping his arms around me. His lips planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

"Yeah, I thought you were," He murmured against my forehead, "Saw you in the backseat at the church." I shrugged, staying quiet and ran my hand up to his necklace, feeling the cool brass amulet against my fingertips in a comforting way. "You're also hiding something," I heard Dean say, pulling back a little ways to look at me. I stiffened in my spot.

_What does he know?_

"What do you mean?" I asked dumbly, seeing his eyes darken at my attempts to play stupid.

His lips formed a tight line, "Don't play dumb with me, Abigail. No lies. What's bothering you?" Dean shook his head slightly, "You haven't really spoke to Sam or me since we got here."

I fell silent, averting his eyes, "I don't know, Dean."

"Abigail, I need you to get your head straight," Dean continued calmly, yet a mixture of emotions laced in his voice. Was it concern and irritation? I couldn't figure it out, "_Abigail_." His voice cut me out of my thoughts. I looked back up to him, seeing his eyes narrowed at me. He meant business.

"Whatever is on your mind, you need to tell me. Right here. Right now." He stated pointedly, allowing his arms to fall away from me and crossed against his chest. I noticed the sleeves of his jacket grow taut as his biceps pushed against the fabric.

How was I going to tell Dean about what the Shapeshifter had said to Sam and me back in St. Louis? I barely spoke about it around him, much less avoided it like the plague around Sam.

"Any time now, sugar-pie." Dean bit out with impatience coating his words. That was _so_ like him. Never wanted to wait.

I clenched my jaw, the muscle within ticked at the strain of my teeth pushing against each other. Somehow, I had grown anxious about it. Maybe I could beat around the bush?

_Here it goes_, I thought taking a sharp intake of air, "You ever think about wanting to be someplace different?" My shoulders lifted in a shrug, "_Like_…think about bein' with someone different?"

Green orbs peered down at me, assessing what I said, "Yeah. Hell yeah." Dean replied, not catching the second part, "I'd rather be a hundred miles away somewhere other than here, sitting flat on my ass with a beer, burger and you and Sammy…" His face flickered, registering something, "Wait…did you say _someone _different?"

Guiltily, I looked down, nodding. My heart had spiked painfully at the question.

"Abigail…why-what do you mean by that?" Dean asked.

"Do you ever want to be someplace different…like, bein' a firefighter? Goin' to college…you know…have friends?" I pressed, growing uneasy by each passing second.

"You honestly see me being some firefighter or some douche-y frat brat?" He asked me, slightly surprised.

I shrugged, absentmindedly tucking a nonexistent loose strand of hair behind my ear, "Yeah, in ways I do." I admitted, glancing up at him, "Don't you?" He shook his head at me, growing skeptical.

"No, why? What are you gettin' at?"

"I don't know, Dean…" I sighed out, "Maybe at some point, you could have had all of that…you know, if…" My voice faltered upon feeling a knot form in my throat, "If the right person came along and maybe things could've been different for you."

The generally witty, snarky, and lighthearted man didn't snort at how ridiculous my questions were. He didn't shoot down that I was going nuts. He was quiet. Assessing what I had said, like he was taking it into consideration. The thought of that sent an icy sliver of fear up my spine, and I couldn't bring myself to look at him any further.

I didn't see the look on Dean's face when he finalized his thoughts, or what hidden emotion he had within his eyes, but I had a feeling that it wasn't good. "Elaborate for me, Abigail. _Humor_ me. What are you getting at?" I felt him take my face in his hands, "_Abigail._" I cringed inwardly at how bothered he sounded. Dean lifted my chin just as I opened my eyes, peering at him with tears coating my lashes, "What are you saying?"

For a short moment I was quiet. This time, I was the one assessing him. His hand fell from my chin, back to his side. Those striking, hazel eyes of his were wide, frantic-like he was getting ready to lose something. His body was taut with apprehension of what I was going to say, noticing how his chest rose and fell with quick breaths. Those walls he had built up to keep a level-head around Sam had disintegrated in the matter of seconds.

_Was he nervous?_ I thought, as a shaky, unsure breath passed through my lips, "I'm sayin' that you really didn't have much of an option…with me."

"Are you—are you saying that it was just a convenience that I got with you?" Dean asked me in a hushed tone.

My eyes widened, "No! No…" I shook my head a little as I saw the hurt look in his eyes, "Dean...I just…" I sighed unable to find the words and looked down at my hands. A short silence fell between us, urging me to pick up my explanation before Dean began thinking the worst.

"You know you're the only man I've ever been with…in an intimate way." A look of hesitation stayed firmly in place, "There is nothing in this…fucked up world of ours that can change how I feel about you. _Nothing_." I grew quiet, unsure of using that word again. I already began to feel like I was using it too often. I knew that was something that Dean squirmed over, and he couldn't help it.

"I love you, and only you, Dean." I said slowly, testing it out like I did the first time, "You're the only person, _other_ than Sammy, that knows what makes me tick…" I gave him a half-smile, and laughed at myself softly, "I guess I'm just trying to say that…" I grew quiet again, "I-I don't want to lose you."

As if the floodgates were unleashed, a visible look of relief washed over him, "Thank God," he breathed out. His eyes stayed on me, "Then what's the problem?" I stayed quiet for a moment, seeing his lips tilt with amusement, "You're not jealous of someone are you?"

I furrowed my brows at him, "_No_!" I hissed out, earning his trademark smirk.

"Good, cause that's not like you to be jealous." He added with a relieved laugh.

It was hard wanting to bring up what the shapeshifter had said, especially when Dean and I had talked so little of it. I guess it was time to stop beating around the bush. Another shaky breath passed my lips, wringing my hands in a fidgety manner, "Back in St. Louis…the shifter said some thing's that didn't sound quite as batshit crazy as I'd hoped."

Like a flip of a switch, Dean's smirk vanished, replacing all traces of humor with steely concern, "What'd he say?" He pressed.

I peered down to the asphalt, my lip beginning to tremble at the memory of his words, his inappropriate touches…Dean frowned, his eyes darkening, "When Sam and I were tied up—before we found you—the shifter was tellin' us that you were jealous of Sam…how he went off to college and how he had friends…"I lifted my eyes to meet Dean's. He was silent, "He got ill; like he was feeling every emotion from every memory he downloaded from you. The shifter got so mad because you had to stay behind with Dad…and me." My voice faltered, "You—," I shook my head, correcting myself, "I mean, the shifter said you would've screwed Rebecca if you had the chance."

My heart clenched painfully, "Then he focused on me…not just on Sam." I continued, stepping away from Dean, allowing a small distance between us. "He said that you were afraid of me because of what I was born with. That I'm a freak…" A pained look drifted across Dean's stony look as I continued, "I'm a piece of ass…I just get in the way." By now, I couldn't hold in the tears. It was like the floodgates had opened up, feeling them freely fall down my cheeks. Dean tentatively wiped them away in silence as I inhaled sharply to prevent myself from a minor breakdown. My heart was racing. I hadn't told him what the shifter said about me supposedly being pregnant. I couldn't even think of something like that happening right now. Not while John was missing. Even after we found him, I still couldn't think of that happening.

"Of all the things the shapeshifter said…you know they lie." Dean said as he stepped closer to me, closing the gap I had put between us. He pulled me against him, holding the back of my head against his shoulder, I wrapped my arms around him tightly, "What Sam did, _that_ was his choice. He wanted to better himself. He did." I was still quiet, pressing my face into his jacket, "I don't want another life." He admitted to me. I felt him press his stubbly cheek against mine and he shrugged, "Yeah, it crosses my mind every now and then. But seriously, what would we do? Where would we go?"

I was silent, breathing in the faint traces of his cologne and deodorant while I slid my hand up his chest, feeling the warm brass of his necklace between my fingers once again in a calming manner. Dean pulled back to look at me in the eyes, "Abigail, I don't want another woman in my life. I have you and solely you. What more can a guy want?" I furrowed my brows, tears sliding down my cheeks every now and then. Dean wiped them away with his thumbs and gently kiss my forehead.

"But the shifter—," I started to say, looking to Dean with worried eyes.

"_Lied_." He grated out, putting his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes, "It _lied._ That's all they do in order to screw with your head," He then smirked, "Dad would've had your ass if he was here."

I laughed lightly, "Yeah…he would, wouldn't he?"

"Oh yeah," He chuckled, then suddenly fell silent. I frowned, wondering what had crossed his mind abruptly, "I know I don't tell you a lot of things as often as I should, Abigail."

I gave him a soft smile, "You do, Dean…just without words. And to be honest, I like it that way."

Dean's lips twitched with amusement, "Oh really?"

"Yeah. It's kinda weird you havin' a chick-flick moment on me." I replied, seeing him purse his lips at my comment. I grinned at him and started laughing. It didn't take long for him to join in with me, shaking his head.

"You're such a nerd," Dean deadpanned, "But with you, Abs, I gotta say you kinda make it hot."

My eyes ascended to the trees above us in a playful eye roll, "Yup, you're back." I said with a hint of relief in my voice. I stood on my tip toes to kiss him lightly, shortly before Dean's hands cupped each side of my face, deepening the kiss. With gentle persistence, Dean won his way into my mouth, his tongue caressing mine. His calloused hands then slid from my face, down my shoulders in a slow movement, fingers trailing against my sides, before he settled on my hips and pulled me closer to his body just before he pulled his head away; by just a hair.

"So what you're telling me is…less talkin' and more action?" Dean asked huskily as his lips brushed against mine like a whisper. I felt a match light up deep inside of me and I merely nodded, mesmerized. Those beautiful eyes of his stared into mine holding a mischievous glint that I knew too well and loved, "I can do that." He breathed out, voice thick with lust. Goosebumps rose across my body when he pressed his hips against mine, maneuvering light kisses across my cheek and down my neck, halting at my collarbone where a small moan passed my lips when I felt his teeth nip at the sensitive skin. All traces of being nauseous a few minutes before, were quickly forgotten and were replaced with the warm, tingly sensation of lust.

It was like an electric shock to the system that extended from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. Dean's thumbs made contact with my skin, kneading soft circles in the dips where my hips met my jeans—resulting in ball of delicious tension to form in my lower abdomen—soon masking over the feeling of pressure that I had felt for the past week. My back pressed against the side of the Impala as I tilted my head to the side further, feeling his hands tighten around my hips. Dean wedged his knee between my legs, placing just the right amount of pressure _there_, rendering my knees weak.

Thankfully, Dean had a good grip on me, along with the Impala having my back—_quite literally_, or I would've fallen flat on my ass in front of God and everybody. I shivered against Dean's body, grasping his arms tightly for dear life. By now our breathing had become short, palpitated bursts of ecstasy when he finally pulled back. In the back of my mind, I questioned myself thinking if we had enough time to get by with a quickie.

As if Dean had read my mind, he reached for the rear passenger door, opening it. I climbed in without a word, shucking my leather jacket and scarf off, followed by Dean shucking his off, getting in the car as well. I laid back in the seat when Dean pushed my shirt up and over my chest, exposing my stomach and bra as he planted scorching hot kisses along the planes of my abdomen, making his way up to my chest.

I winced upon Dean freeing one of my breasts, realizing that they were incredibly sore when he began kneading it. I bit my lip, fighting off the urge to swat his hand away, bringing up the thought that I was getting ready to start soon. My back arched from the delicious contact as he pulled the other out, closing his lips around it and began suckling. My jaw slackened at the warm feeling spreading out in lazy waves with each teasing pull of his fingers, or each lavishing suck, hearing a soft groan emit from Dean when he ceased what he was doing in order to press his hips against mine. It was pretty evident that he was aroused, hence the bulge he was grinding against my lady bits.

Dean peered up at me, eyes glazing over in need. I grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him up to me in another heated kiss. Without hesitating, I slid my hands onto his shoulders where I then pulled his red long-sleeved button up off of him; leaving Dean in his gray undershirt as we parted for air.

"We're really gonna do this in broad daylight?" I breathed out, looking up at him for confirmation.

Dean chuckled with a cheeky grin, "Wouldn't be the first time, sweetheart. Not gettin' cold feet are ya?" I laughed, shaking my head with a grin matching his. Those hazel eyes of his twinkled, soon falling upon the casing necklace positioned in the dip of my neck, he dipped his head to kiss me tenderly on my swollen lips. The minty aftertaste from the mouthwash was long gone, but in its place, I only tasted Dean and I liked it.

Our tongues wrestled, explored, and massaged each other, while at times, our teeth clicked together. Dean's weight on top of me felt so good, lifting every now and then when he pulled one of my legs around his waist, keeping his hand cupped on my bottom. His hips were expertly placed against mine, feeling _everything_ of his pressed firmly against me, ready as ever. I grabbed the hem of his gray shirt, pulling it halfway up to feel his skin against mine.

Dean wasted no time sitting up to pull it off and tossed it across the back of the front seat. I watched with interest, seeing his muscles quiver and stretch with his movements as he lowered himself back onto me, resuming our kiss. At some point, our necklaces had gotten tangled in which we were laughing in our attempts to untangle them.

Dean lifted his body a little ways when I reached down to undo his belt buckle and unzip his jeans, his hand skimming down my stomach to mine. Then, as if right on cue, Dean's cellphone buzzed to life. He closed his eyes, forming the hand he hand on my jeans into a fist. Dean let out a low groan, showing his displeasure with a curse as he sat up, and leaned over the front seat to retrieve his jacket, pulling out his cellphone. With narrowed eyes, Dean looked at the caller ID and frowned. It was Sammy.

"Yeah." He stated rather curtly, glancing at me for a moment, "She's fine, Sammy. Just, uh, had to get some air. Did you find anything?" He asked. I strained to hear what Sam was saying, but it was a short conversation, "Alright, Sam. We'll be in there." Closing his phone, Dean blew out an irritated breath before he looked to me.

"Sam find anythin'?" I asked, sitting up on my elbows.

"Yeah, he wants us to come in there," Dean replied, motioning his head to the library while he buttoned his jeans and buckled his belt. He grabbed his shirt from the back of the seat, tugged it on and grabbed his red long-sleeve and jacket. I sighed, readjusting my bra. I tugged and maneuvered each breast in each cup of my bra until I felt like I was comfortable, tugging my gray tank top over them. Dean's brows rose with appreciation, watching me.

"You ready?" He asked me. I looked up at him and nodded.

"Yeah." With a nod, Dean opened the car door, stepping out. Grabbing my jacket and scarf, I slid out from the backseat and stood, shrugging on my jacket; fighting with my wrist splint since it barely would allow my arm to fit through the sleeve. Dean stood by me, looking rather uncomfortable and shifted a couple of times, silently mouthing words. I watched him for a moment, wrapping my thin scarf around my neck and pushed it into my jacket, halfway zipping it up.

"Uh, what are you doing, Dean?" I asked, catching his attention.

He frowned, giving me an incredulous look, "You're really going to ask that, Abs?"

I glanced down at his crotch, seeing that he was still bulging and I flushed, mouthing _'oh'_, "You realize Sam's going to give us hell for doing him like that right?"

Dean shrugged dismissively, "The way I see it, I came out to check on you. Then I got…distracted." He shook his head in a self-loathing manner, "Oh my god, Dad would have our heads for this."

I frowned at his words. John wasn't here to chastise Dean or me, but _knowing_ that he still had some form of a chastising effect on Dean made me uncomfortable. It was true though. We would've never done that sort of thing with John around. It was deemed compromising in his eyes. I realized that Dean and I's relationship had been getting more touchy-feely and less business-y.

_This is bad. _

"C'mon." I muttered, feeling a little hurt of my own conclusion. Dean nodded, wrapping an arm around me as we went back into the Library. It took me a few moments to get my eyes adjusted from being outside in light, back into the dimness of the establishment, spotting Sam reading something and mouthing the words silently to himself.

"What you got, Sammy?" Dean asked casually when we approached him.

He glanced up, eyeing the both of us in an exasperated manner, "Really, guys? In broad daylight?" He asked, ignoring the question. Dean and I looked at each other, then to him with an innocent look on our faces.

Dean shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes, "While you guys were too busy doing…_whatever_, I found this article. 1862." He began, eyes skimming the paper, "A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes." Sam's finger ran down a few sentences, "Uh, right here," He announced, tapping an entry, "_Some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh._" He recited from the book, looking up at us. Dean nodded, allowing me to take the lead around the table before he sat back down in his seat, glancing back down to the book he was reading.

"Before I left to check up on Abs, I also found this," He said, "The murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident." His eyes glanced over the page, "Had it replaced with a silver hook."

I looked between the two boys, glancing to each of the books. A location jumped out at me instantly. "Guys." I pointed to a page on Dean's book, causing Sam to lean over to see what I had found.

"Look where all this happened," Sam murmured.

"9 Mile Road."

"Same place where the frat boy was killed," I murmured.

Dean smirked, peering at me, "Nice job, Dr. Venkmen."

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, even though you weren't here for thirty minutes."

I shrugged, "How do you think I passed Schulman's class in high school?" I asked, earning a smug look from Dean. Sam laughed. I glanced down at my watch, cursing, "Listen, you guys check it out. But let me know what you find."

Dean and Sam looked at me confused, "What?" Dean asked, bewildered.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked.

I blinked, "Have you guys seriously forgotten?" They looked at me blankly. I sighed, placing my hand to my forehead, "I'm supposed to babysit the sorority girls tonight." Dean's eyes lit up, "And no, you can't come." Dean's face sagged with disappointment, "I'm goin' to keep an eye on Lori since she's our only lead right now. Maybe I'll get lucky and find somethin' out."

"You realize that this means you're going to be away from Dean and I tonight…_right_?" Sam stated.

I nodded, "Yeah. I'm aware of that."

"What if this Hook man shows up and you're unarmed?" Dean asked, concerned.

"I'm not helpless, Dean." I replied with a snort, "And I'm not dumb. I'm going to be bringin' some weapons with me."

Dean sighed, as Sam began to gather up all of the research, "You know I don't like you being out of my sight."

I shrugged, helping Sam, "Gotta take one for the team, Dean. We gotta look inconspicuous." Handing Sam the papers, we filed out of the Library.

_Pi Beta Phi Sorority House—Night_

Dean pulled across the street of the sorority house, killing the engine to the Impala. By now, it had gotten dark outside, hearing the crickets chirping from around the car. Getting out, I stretched my arms above my head with a grunt, closing the door behind me.

Dean and Sam stepped out of the Impala, their doors slamming shut behind them as well. Dean popped the trunk, lifting it. Since I announced that I was parting ways for the night, he had stayed silent for part of the drive to the sorority house. I approached the trunk to retrieve my bag, feeling him grasp my hand, stopping me.

I looked at him, seeing his face shadowed with worry.

"You don't have to do this." He murmured.

"Dean, I feel like I have to," I replied, "For all I know, Lori could get killed tonight given the right circumstances. She'd be safer with me around. If something was to happen, and me not there—," I shook my head, keeping eye contact with Dean, "That's blood on my hands that I could've avoided."

Sam leaned against the Impala, "She has a point, Dean."

Dean shot Sam an incredulous look, "Dude, you would side for Abigail."

He shrugged, raising his hands defensively, "I'm just putting that out there, man. Lori would be a whole hell of a lot safer if we had eyes on her. Why not Abigail?"

Dean's mouth opened to speak, only to falter and closed it, knowing we were right. He was uncomfortable with us splitting up. I wasn't going to be backup like I had been before Sam came to rejoin us. Sam was here, he was available. He was just as good as me. Dean let out an aggravated growl, letting me grab my bag and set it on the ground, unzipping it.

"You're not going in there without a weapon," Dean grumbled, lifting up the spare-tire compartment that had contained the arsenal. He sifted through several weapons, before deciding on a sawed off shotgun—a perfect fit for my duffle bag. Handing it to me, Dean then pulled out some shotgun rounds, earning a confused look from Sam.

"Here you go," Dean said, handing me the rounds.

"Uh, Dean. If it _is_ a spirit, buckshot won't do much good." Sam pointed out.

Dean turned to Sam, "Yeah, rock salt."

Sam's brows rose, reaching for a round to inspect it, "Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent." He murmured, looking at the clear casing. I laughed, setting the weapon and rounds into my bag, under all of my clothes from prying eyes.

"Yeah. It won't kill 'em. But it'll slow 'em down." I said, standing up beside my bag, wiping my hands down my pants a couple of times.

Sam handed the round back to Dean, who put it back into the arsenal, closing it and the trunk, "That's pretty good. You and Dad think of this?"

Dean inclined his head in my direction, "Ah, it was Abs' idea."

I arched my brow, nudging his side, "Don't give me all the credit, Dean, you helped."

Dean chuckled, "You don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius."

Sam chuckled as well, then looked over to the sorority house, "Well, I guess it's time."

I nodded, wringing my hands, "Yeah, guess so. Call me, alright?" I asked looking to each of them. Dean and Sam nodded. I swallowed down an uneasy knot. I was nervous. Dean must've sensed my uneasiness. He pulled me into a hug.

"Be careful," He whispered in my ear, "_Please_. Whatever you do, Abigail, I don't want you hurt." I nodded against his shoulder, "I can't lose you." He added so quiet, I knew Sam couldn't have heard it. We pulled away, Dean leaving his hands on my shoulders. Quickly, Dean tipped his head, planting a kiss on my lips.

A short moment later, Sam cleared his throat. Dean pulled away, throwing Sam a dirty look. Looking back at me, he frowned, "I mean it, Abigail."

I smiled at him, "Dean, it's a sorority house full of college girls. What's the worst gonna happen? Drunk, naked pillow fights?"

Dean pursed his lips in amusement, "Maybe I can join, you know, if you need backup."

Sam rolled his eyes, taking his brother by the arm, "Calm your hormones, Hugh." He pushed Dean to the driver's side of the car.

Dean swatted at Sam, "Dude, I _can_ walk!" With a glance casted my way, he blew out a loud breath, opening the door and got in, slamming it. Sam shook his head, approaching me with a smile, and pulled me into an embrace as well.

"I noticed you got into my bag, earlier." He whispered. I stiffened, "Have you found out anything?"

I furrowed my brows, "_No_. I-I don't know if I'm going to do this tonight or what, Sam."

He looked down at me, "Well, there seems to be a lot of symptoms going on with you lately."

I snorted, "Yeah, and also I'm supposed to have a visitor too." Sam's face scrunched in disgust.

"Really?" he asked in a whiney tone. I gave him a smug look, "If you need anything…I mean _anything_. Any problems, it doesn't matter. Call Dean or me. We'll be here as fast as we can."

I nodded, "You know I will."

Sam nodded, giving me another squeeze before Dean stuck his head out of the window, "C'mon, we're burning daylight."

Sam and I turned to him, "Uh, it's night, Dean."

He only shrugged, "It doesn't matter."

"I guess, Dean." I sighed, picking up my duffle bag, "You two be careful. Call me."

Dean nodded curtly to me, glancing over when Sam climbed into the passenger side and closed the door, "We'll be back, first thing in the morning." With a small nod, he settled back into his seat, turning the ignition. Once the Impala roared to life, they pulled out and disappeared from sight. I blew out a breath. This was going to be interesting.

I turned, seeing Lori get out of the car looking flustered, "I'm an adult. I can take care of myself." She spoke heatedly, "Goodnight."

From within the car, I watched the reverend calling after her, "Lori. Lori, come—_Lori_!" Slamming the door, she left, walking into the house. Slowly, I approached the car.

"Good evening, Reverend." I said with a smile in place. He looked up at me, face red, but still managed to smile.

"Oh, Abigail. It's good to see you." He greeted, sounding flustered.

I looked up at the sorority house, "I couldn't help but overhear yours and Lori's argument…is everythin' alright?"

Sorenson nodded, "Yes. Yes, thank you for asking." He sighed, "Children. What can you do?"

I offered him a reassuring touch on the arm, "Have faith, reverend. She'll come around."

He looked up at me with a kind smile, "Thank you, Abigail. Will you do me a favor? I know this seems very off putting coming from a man of the Lord."

"Anythin'." I replied.

"Will you watch over Lori? Make sure she doesn't veer off-track?" He asked me, "It would mean so much to me."

I smiled warmly at him, nodding, "I wouldn't mind one bit, reverend."

He returned the smile, "Thank you, Abigail." I patted the side of his car, and straightened up, hoisting my duffle bag strap on my shoulder.

"See you around." I said, concluding our conversation as I walked up the walkway, and to the door where I knocked lightly. A few moments passed, then the door swung open. A thin, leggy attractive brunette answered with a grin.

"You must be the new sister!" She said with a grin, "Come in, come in! I'm Carrie."

_Oh, boy_. I thought seeing over twenty girls laughing and carrying on, _Dean would have a field day_. I mustered up a smile, "Thanks, I'm Abigail."

"You're from WVU, correct?" She asked, walking alongside me.

I nodded, "Yeah."

"Tell me, is it true what they say about Southern Boys?" She asked again with a vivacious smile. I stared at her blankly, obviously not taking a hint, "Oh, come on, silly. You know, _they like to get down and dirty._"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah." I said, laughing, "I'm sorry I didn't catch on any sooner, it's been an eventful day for me."

Carried laughed, "I know the feeling. Come on, let me introduce you to the girls."

It was three in the morning and I found myself sitting in the bathroom, puking my guts up for the third time. It was God awful. I didn't think I could throw up anymore without my intestines and whatnot coming up next. Wiping away tears, I sniffled, getting up and flushed the toilet, making my way to the sink and twisted the knobs, letting the water flow wide open.

Scooping my hand under the water, I sucked it up into my mouth and swished, spitting it back out before I scooped up more and splashed it on my face. This was getting ridiculous.

I walked out of the bathroom, rubbing my face with a hand, feeling my cellphone vibrate down the hall. I dug into my sleeping pants pocket—or should I say, Dean's sleeping pants—and took out my cellphone. It was an unknown number. With furrowed brows, I flipped it open.

"Hello?" I asked, drawing out my answer in confusion.

"Hey you." It was Dean.

I smiled, "Hey you."

"God, its great hearing your voice." His voice sounding weary, "How's it going?"

I peered into each bedroom quietly, checking on the girls that were asleep, "Oh, watchin' my favorite movie that you won't let me watch with the girls." I stated, hearing him chuckle.

"Let me guess, _Oh Brother? Where Art Thou?"_ Dean asked…well, more like stated.

I laughed lightly, "That'd be the one, darlin'." I heard several girls cackle out and I grinned to myself.

"And yet you still won't watch, Dr. Sexy M.D." He grumped, knowing he was pouting.

I shook my head to no one in particular, "Nope." I replied, "What's the big deal of a doctor wearing cowboy boots?"

"Uh, _everything, _Abigail. Everything. You just have no taste in movies _or_ music." Dean retorted.

"Oh, _bullshit_ and you know it, Winchester!" I quipped in a hushed tone, peering into Lori and Taylor's room. It was a little too dark for me to see into the bedroom, but I could make out the outlines of Lori sleeping soundly. Taylor was still, sleeping soundly as well. With a nod, affirming that I had gone through everything, I turned to head back downstairs. My senses didn't kick on nor did I feel anxious. That was a first.

Dean chuckled, "So, how's everything on the sorority front?"

I lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug, "All's quiet. Just got done makin' my rounds, checking on the girls."

"Good. Good." Dean fell silent, "So, what're you wearing?"

"Well…you know those sleeping pants you were missing? I got them…and that little shirt you like so well." I said as I descended the stairs, walking into the living area where a handful of girls were watching my favorite movie, _Oh Brother! Where Art Thou?_ I grinned at the image flashing across the screen. I heard a low groan from the other line, "Come over," I suggested, "I could use a little help getting to sleep."

"Oh, I'd love that, babe—," Dean said huskily, "Just uh, that might be kinda hard to do…" Dean said, trailing off.

I stopped in the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe, "And why's that?"

"Oh, nothing…" Dean spoke slowly, avoiding a straight answer.

I heard Sam in the background, "Don't lie, Dean. Tell her we're in jail."

"Dude! Will you shut up?!" Dean ground out, muffling his voice.

"Wait…you're in _jail_?" I hissed, "What the hell did you guys do?!"

Dean laughed sheepishly on the other line, "Funny story, Abs. And a long one, I might add."

"Then humor me, and I have all the time in the world." I quipped.

"Yeah…that's the other thing…I don't have any time." He answered, "You're kinda our one phone call."

"_Dean, really?_" I groaned out, "Do you need me to come get you guys?"

"No! We'll think of something, don't worry about us." He replied, "Listen…times up, cherry-pie. I would've _really_ enjoyed seeing you tonight."

I sighed, "I know. I would've loved to have seen you, too. Don't get into any more trouble, a'ight?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"If you're not out by the time I wake up, then I'll be down there to get you two out." I spoke in a hushed tone, glancing to the screen, "I gotta go. Be. Good."

"Wouldn't expect anything less than that, babe. Sleep tight." He said. I hung up my phone, tucking it into my pocket as I joined the girls on the couch.

_Next Day_

Sometime around four or five in the morning, the girls of the sorority house had finally turned in. I was in my new room with my roommate, Chelsea, soundly asleep. She had long been asleep since around twelve or so. I was nauseous from the time I laid down to the time I had gotten up to the sounds of screaming.

"Lori!" I yelled out as I practically fell out of bed, clambering to get up and ran through the hallway to where Lori's room was at, and slipped—bouncing my head off the floor, _hard_. With my heart pounding in my chest, I looked up from the floor to see Lori standing before me; pale as a ghost, tears running down her face and her mouth over her mouth.

There was also a strong odor of ozone filling the room as well—_classic telltale signs of a spirit_. I turned my attention to whatever I slipped in, seeing thick, dark red liquid covering my arms, feet, and supposedly face. It took me no time to slide around in my attempts of getting up, my nausea taking full effect when I got to my feet seeing Taylor laying in her bed, gutted with a message carved in blood on the wall saying, _Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?_

I took a mental note of the four bloody crosses surrounding it. Then I realized that I was covered from head to toe in Taylor's congealed blood. I fought back hard to not retch, instead I turned my attention to the petrified girl, I grabbed her by the arm, "Lori, we need to get you out of here." I looked around, "Somebody call 911!" I yelled out. Curious girls gathered around, only to scream, "Stop standin' there and call the damn police!" I barked out with narrowed eyes.

Carefully, I maneuvered Lori around the large pool of blood and outside where she could get some fresh air. I didn't know who needed it more; her or me.

I felt disgusted. _Utterly_ disgusted. Not only because I was covered in blood—that was part of the job, but because someone had died while under my supervision. My nerves were so shot, I trembled until I had to lean against something and finally threw up. Lori placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Are-are you okay?" she stammered out.

I didn't look at her and spit a few times, "Yeah…the question is, are _you_?"

She shook her head, tears falling freely, "Taylor's dead."

_Nice job pointin' that out, Captain Obvious_, I bit out in my head, "Let's hope they get here fast enough so I can get cleaned up."

In no time there were several loads of cops lining the streets, ambulances showed up, as well as the county coroner. Having spent at least an hour playing twenty questions with the same deputy that questioned Lori, I was finally let go to take a bath…and I desperately needed it.

I climbed past several officers, distressed sorority girls, and finally made it to my 'room' picking up my duffle bag and padded to the bathroom where I instantly stripped my clothes off of me. I threw them into the trashcan, pulling out a matching bra and underwear set, a pair of destroyed jeans, a white wife beater tank top and my lightweight military jacket from my bag, setting them on the top of the toilet where I sat. I held my head in my heads, letting a choking sob barrel through.

_I let someone die. How did I not catch the Hook man in the room? Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ I screeched out in my head, clutching my hair by the fistful. Standing up, I let my hair go and approached the shower, twisting the knobs. When steam was rolling from the top of the curtains, I stepped in, picking up a brush and _scrubbed_. I honestly felt like a failure, but I knew this is the baggage that came with this lifestyle. There was going to be death no matter what. You were going to win some and you were going to lose some. Why I was acting like this was the end of the world, like I had lost my best friend, I didn't know.

It didn't take me long to get done and out of the shower, before I was getting dressed. With my duffle bag in my hands, I stepped out of the bathroom, catching Sam's tall figure slip into Lori and Taylor's room. Trailing behind them undetected, I slipped in behind them, lowering my bag to the ground softly.

"Can I ask what in the _hell_ you two are doin' in here? This is a crime scene." I snapped, seeing both Dean and Sam spin around with wide eyes. I grinned at them wickedly, taking in the scenery of Dean bending over to catch his breath while Sam looked like he was about to keel over.

"Damn you, Abigail!" Dean swore at me, moving out of the walk in closet, "Don't you do that! I've had enough of being in jail."

I grinned, folding my arms, "Well, it took you two long enough."

"You can't rush perfection," Dean quipped, straightening up to look at the wall. I already had a first-hand experience with the layout of the room, so I moved closer to the window to survey the scene below.

"That's right out of the legend," Sam said after reciting the bloody carving.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, that's classic Hook Man alright," He tapped the tip of his nose, "It's definitely a spirit."

Sam inhaled, making a sour face, "Yeah, I've never smelled ozone this strong before." He moved closer to inspect the five crosses beneath the writing, "Hey, come here." I looked over at Sam, as Dean moved over to where he was at. Taking the opportunity, I walked over to him to inspect the crosses as well from a better perspective other than covered in blood and on the floor. Sam looked at me, "Does that look familiar to you?"

I stared at it, nodding, "Yeah. We better move out before we all get caught."

Sam and Dean nodded. They headed out the window they came through while I eased out of the house; duffle bag in tow with a shotgun, and headed down the street to meet up with Dean and Sam at the Impala. I put the bag into the backseat, closing the door while Sam pulled out several articles of our research.

"It's the same symbol," Sam concluded, "Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns."

Dean nodded, "Alright, let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down."

Sam lowered his head, reading, "After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery." His expression turned grim, "In an unmarked grave."

Dean and Sam both looked annoyed.

"_Super._" Dean said dryly.

I placed my hand on my forehead, "Ok. So we know its Jacob Karns," I said wearily, "But we still don't know where he'll manifest next. Or why."

Dean looked between Sam and me, "I'll take a wild guess about why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this."

_College Party_

Sam and I stood in the middle of the hormonal chaos that was a college party. There were a lot of drinking, dancing, clothed humping…the works of a party life, in which I had no interest in joining. Not tonight. Dean, however, was having the time of his life and he was nowhere to be seen.

"Abs," I heard Sam say loudly over the music. I turned my head upon hearing him say my name and looked at him. He gave me a sympathetic smile, "Look, you did the best you could."

I bit the inside of my cheek, merely nodding at him, I_f I did the best I could, Taylor would still be alive._ Why my senses didn't go off the charts when I checked on Lori and Taylor had deeply unsettled me. I kept my arms wrapped around me, shooting glares at drunk college guys as they tumbled into me in their drunken stupor.

"Sorry." One of them would say. I shook my head at them.

Dean came up to us with a sly grin on his face, "Man, you've been holding out on me." He cast a wink, smiling at a passing girl, "This college thing is _awesome_!"

Sam shifted in his spot looking rather uncomfortable, "This wasn't really my experience."

Dean snorted, "Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A's?" Sam nodded with an honest look in his eyes. Dean looked over at me and grinned, "What a geek." I forced a smile at Dean in order to not alert him, "Alright, you guys do your homework?" He asked.

Sam and I pulled out a couple of folded up pieces of paper, and unraveled it, "Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook man tied up with Lori?"

"So, I think Sam and I came up with somethin'," I added, handing Dean my paper. He flipped it, eyes, scanning what I had found.

"1932-Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967-Seminarian held in hippie rampage," Dean murmured when we moved to a quieter area of the house.

"There's a pattern here. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out—_get this_—with a sharp instrument." Sam explained, filling in Dean with information that we had found.

Dean looked at both papers and looked up at us, "What's the connection to Lori?"

"A man of _religion_? Who openly preaches against _immortality_?" I inquired, throwing him subtle, yet not subtle, hints. His face lit up once he registered it, "Except _maybe_ this time, instead of saving the whole town, he's just trying to save his only daughter."

Dean glanced between Sam and I's faces, "Reverend Sorensen." He stated blatantly, "You think he's summoning the spirit?"

Sam's head quirked, "Maybe. _Or_, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?"

He thought for a second and nodded, "Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend's repressed emotions, feed off them, yeah, okay."

"Without the reverend ever even knowin' it." I concluded.

Dean looked at Sam, "Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight." Sam nodded, though looked at me and Dean questioningly.

"What about you guys?" he asked.

Dean blew out a reluctant sigh, "I'm gonna go see if I can find that unmarked grave, and Abigail is going to be my backup." He looked over his shoulder, seeing an attractive blonde smiling at him near the pool table. She gave him a small wave, when in return, he threw her his infamous wink and possum grin, before he looked back to us with a shadow of disappointment in his eyes.

We didn't have much of a party streak, and seeing how there was a big opportunity for that tonight, it wasn't the time nor the place for it. We had a job to do before the thoughts of relaxation could ever cross our minds. Reaching out, Dean placed a hand on the small of my back when we turned to walk out of the house, parting our ways with Sam.

Feeling the crisp March air, Dean and I walked to the Impala in silence, the bass from the party could be heard going with the beat to whatever new song was playing. Dean stopped, pulling me into a tight embrace, allowing me to bury my face into his chest. Inhaling, I could smell the pungent odor of smoke and beer coating his shirt and jacket from him mingling with the college crowd back at the party.

"You did what you could, Abigail," I heard Dean say, as I slowly pulled back away from him with a pained look.

"Dean, if I did what I _could_, that girl would still be alive." I said pointedly, "Someone _died_ under my watch. _Died_. They're blood is on my hands because I didn't—_couldn't_ sense that spirit."

Dean looked at me with furrowed brows, "What are you saying you _couldn't_ sense the spirit?"

I swallowed hard, "I didn't sense it. I went through _every _single room, Dean." Tear pricked my eyes, "I double-checked Lori and Taylor's room. I felt _nothing._" I wrapped my arms around my waist, looking everywhere but at Dean.

"Are you saying that your spidey-senses crapped out on you?"

My eyes flickered over him, "_Yes_. And I realized that I rely on it too much to the point that someone died because of it."

Dean shook his head, "That girl didn't die because you didn't try. You did," He stepped closer to me, taking my shoulders in his hands, "Abigail, I _know_ that you tried. Whatever happened," Dean shook his head, keeping his eyes on me, "That wasn't your fault."

I shook my head, focusing on the ground, "It sure as hell don't feel like it ain't." I muttered.

"That's part of the business, sugar-pie. It's never gonna get any better." He replied quietly, scanning my face.

"How many people do we have to lose before it's enough?" I asked, blinking away angry tears.

Dean shook his head slowly, "I don't know, but I have a feeling like it'll never be enough."

I sucked my bottom lip inwards so that I could chew on it, nodding. I had a feeling like it was a vicious circle. It was never-ending, "I'm just so sick of the misery, Dean. Whenever we think we're ahead, it comes out we're four steps behind. With Dad missing, the yellow-eyed demon…_everything._"

Dean's hands slid up from my shoulders, caressing my face, "We'll figure this out. It's gonna take a while, Abigail. Just…bear with me, _please_. For your sake. For mine. Christ, for Sam's." His voice was nothing short of a hushed whisper, "This is killing me too, Abs. There isn't a thought that passes through my mind, thinking that Dad is somewhere in a ditch, dead. I know it goes through Sam's, and I know it has to go through yours. I can't just give up though." Dean shook his head, brows pulled together with a fierce look of determination, "Abigail, I-I just can't. Not until I see it for myself."

I fell silent, staring at the man. My chest was clenching painfully at his words, because underneath them, they held truth. He was right. Those unbidden thoughts of John being dead…they rear their ugly head at least a thousand times a day. I know Sam has to have them too. Depending on the day and his mood, it's plain to see when he is upset about something. Sam doesn't try to hide it, unlike Dean or me. But I also think he shows it because he knows that Dean and I would bend over backwards trying to coax his mind from dwelling on such dark things, while we kept ours to ourselves and let it eat at us, little by little.

A frown pulled at my lips, "I know, Dean. I know." I placed my hands over his in a comforting touch, "It just gets so hard to do anything sometimes…"

Dean nodded, bowing his head to kiss me on the lips softly. Goosebumps rose across my arms at the gesture. This man knew how to _woo_ me, and despite the distracting concept of it, I loved it. _Cherished_ it. I knew whenever we found John, our days of publicly displaying our touches and kisses were over. Dean pulled away, eyes twinkling knowing that he had calmed me down, "C'mon, Abs. We have a preacher to find."

_Old North Cemetery—Night_

If you thought cemeteries were creepy during the day, try doing it at night. As a hunter, cemeteries were your second home, gym, etc. In lame man's terms, you were there a lot. Despite my level of expertise, I despised these places of burial. _Why?_

Well, here's a few things to consider; (1) you wouldn't want to be there during the rise of a zombie apocalypse-that would just end up bad. (2) They're just flat out creepy. And (3) both statements are valid at all times while in one. Salting and burning bones just made me feel better about the thought of taking out the army of the undead one body at a time before they had the chance to get mobile. And yes, Zombie movies freak the bejeezus outta me.

Stepping out of the Impala, Dean and I walked amongst the age old gravestones, some identifiable, others…well, time and the elements weren't great to them. Trails of light emitted from our flashlights as they crossed and bobbed to each headstone, searching for a possible location to Karns' grave. I didn't stray far from Dean's side, maybe a span of three to four headstones to be exact in distance, while I carried a shovel.

"Abs!" I heard Dean call out. Stopping, I turned to point my light at him, seeing that he was stopped at a headstone with a cross symbol engraved on it. Making hasty steps, I made it to Dean's side sticking the blade of the shovel into the ground, "Here we go." His eyes turned to me, "You gonna wimp out on me?"

My lips pulled into a tight line, "I don't wimp out on you."

He arched a brow, "Uh, yeah, you do, Abs."

I shook my head, "No."

Dean nodded, "Uh, yeah."

"Name one time, Dean." I challenged, folding my splinted wrist under my arm, watching as Dean shoved his boot onto shoulder of the shovel hearing the blade cut into the hard ground.

Dean glanced up at me, smirking, "Oh, that's gonna be _so_ easy, cherry-pie," he quipped, piling dirt onto the side, "We were on a job in Alabama, Chupacabra to be exact—" The sound of rocks grating against the shovel seemed way too loud, "—you got a spider on you and you about broke your neck trying to get it off of you."

"I hate spiders," I said, shrugging nonchalantly at him, "you know that's girl logic."

Dean snorted as he lifted another pile of dirt from the grave, "You see and deal with worse things!"

I gave him another casual shrug, "There's a fine line, Dean." He began chuckling, his mouth turned upward in amusement. I couldn't help but laugh with him as I watched him dig. For what seemed to be an hour or so, I frowned feeling a wave of nausea slam into me.

"Good God," I muttered, placing a palm over my face, "When's this gonna quit?"

Dean halted digging and frowned, "You alright?" He asked, growing concerned.

I waved him off in a dismissive manner, pulling my hand away from my face with a faux smile, "Yeah, peachy—" I cringed feeling the urge to gag, then shook my head quickly recanting my statement just as my stomach flip-flopped at the impending doom of vomiting. I shivered, determining that my will against warding the feeling off was strongly futile.

"Never mind, I'm not." I groaned out, as my stomach somersaulted a few more times before I managed to get to the nearest tree, throwing up.

I heard the _thud_ of the shovel as it hit the ground, followed by Dean rushing to my side instantly, though the look on his face was a look of either concern or being grossed out, I couldn't tell, "Abigail, you need to sit down."

I shook my head, "I'm fine, Dean."

"Apparently you aren't, Abigail," Dean stated pointedly. _He had a point_. "Half of your lunch is on the ground, and I know you've been sick since we've been here. _Sit down_."

I rested my chin against my arm to look at him, "Dean, I—,"

His eyes flashed with a hidden warning, "Don't argue with me."

A moment of silence fell between us. I stared at Dean as he stared back at me, frowning. Deep down, I knew he was going to win this argument. Sam wasn't here, or it would've been a unanimous win on his account. I put my head down, spitting once again to get the taste out of my mouth, and slowly nodded.

"Fine," I said in surrender, holding my hands up as a sign of defeat. _Damn his over-protective, over-bearing ass._

Following him over to Karns' grave, I sat down on an old, weathered headstone, watching Dean as he wasted no time getting back into the waist deep hole, picked up the shovel, and proceeded on digging. By the time Dean had reached Karns' wooden casket, sweat was dripping off of him after he had stripped off his jacket, "That's it," Dean huffed out, "Next time, I get to watch the cute girl's house."

I rolled my eyes at him, _He was incorrigible!_

The sound of metal smashing against wood made it evident that he had busted through the wooden casket of Jacob Karns. I stood up from sitting on the top of a headstone to peer into the grave after Dean tossed the shovel out of it.

I smirked down at the gritty mess of bones, "Howdy, preacher-man."

Dean climbed out of the grave, latching onto my hand when I helped him the rest of the way out. Wiping his hands down his pant legs, Dean straightened up nodding toward the Impala with a smirk, "Let's torch this mother."

My head bobbed in agreement when he started to walk to the Impala. I followed suit, stepping timidly over the graves. Honestly, I felt a little guilty for desecrating graves, but hey, that's the life of saving people and hunting things that go bump in the night. Salt and burn and have a happy ending.

Dean dug into his pocket fishing his keys out when we approached the trunk. Twisting them, he lifted the trunk, then the spare tire compartment before handing me two bottles of lighting fluid and pulled out a bag of salt. He closed the compartment and trunk, gathering the bag of salt.

It didn't take long to return to the open grave of Jacob Karns', whose bones were now covered in a salt/lighting fluid mix. Standing beside me, Dean took out a match from the matchbox and struck it, staring at the small flame, drifting his eyes to the bones, "Goodbye, preacher." With his final words, he dropped the lit match into the grave. With a burst of flames, Dean and I watched in silence as Jacob Karns' bones were set ablaze.

It was done.

A feeling of relief should've washed over me, but something had risen that caused that familiar anxious feeling of dread. _Oh, so _now_ you decide to work?_ This wasn't over…yet.

Dean's ringtone, _Ramble On_ by Led Zeppelin cut through the silence. He reached into his jacket pocket that was draped over a headstone, and flipped the device open, "What you got, Sammy?" I looked over at Dean, watching his face scrunch with concern, "Wait, what's going on?" He asked, then fell silent as Sam continued. A harsh breath escaped from his lips, "Fine." He hung up.

"What's goin' on?" I asked.

He looked at me, "Something's happened over at Lori's. The reverend was attacked, but Sam wouldn't tell me exactly what happened."

Fear prickled up my spine, "Is he alright?"

He nodded, "Yeah, he's with Lori right now at the hospital. She's pretty shaken up. Again."

_Hospital_

It wasn't a long drive to the hospital, considering Dean's lead foot driving. By the time we had arrived, Sam had texted me what floor and room they were on. We both took the elevator and stepped out, walking towards the direction of the room. Down the hallway, two officers had stopped us.

Dean smiled at them, "No, it's alright," He motioned his head at Sam, who was talking to the Sheriff, "I'm with him. He's my brother." He grinned, "Hey! Brother!" Sam and the Sheriff both turned to look at us.

The first officer looked at me, "Who are you?"

I smiled sheepishly, "I'm a friend of Lori Sorensen, I was with her earlier at the sorority house?" The officer looked at me up and down, nodding, "I managed to get a ride with him to check on her. To see how she's doing."

The sheriff looked at us skeptically, "Let them through."

Like Moses parting the waters of the Red Sea, the two officers parted ways, allowing us to step through, "Thanks." Dean said, as we came up to him, "You okay?"

Sam nodded, breathing out a stressed sigh, "Yeah."

"What the hell happened?" I asked quietly.

"Hook Man."

Dean and I exchanged glances. "You saw him?" Dean asked in a hushed voice.

Sam's eyes narrowed at us, "Damn right. Why didn't you guys torch the bones?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, "We did."

"You sure it's the spirit of Jacob Karns?" Dean added.

"It sure as hell looked like him," Sam replied, "And that's not all. I don't think the spirit is latching on to the reverend."

Dean scoffed a little, "Well, yeah, the guy wouldn't send the Hook Man after himself."

Sam looked at the both of us, "I think it's latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman."

Dean shrugged, "So what?"

"So she's upset about it," Sam deadpanned, "She's upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished."

"Ok, so she's conflicted." Dean stated in his usual, lighthearted manner.

"And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he's doing the punishing for her, huh?" I asked, earning an approving nod from Sam.

"Right. Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair."

Dean smirked, "Remind me not to piss this girl off." I sniggered at his joke, to which he shook his head, "But Abigail and I burned those bones." He added, "I buried them in salt why didn't that stop him?"

Sam's shoulders rose in a shrug, "You must have missed something."

Dean's visage steeled, "No. I burned everything in that coffin."

"Did you get the hook?" Sam asked.

I blinked, "The, uh, hook?"

"Well, it _was_ the murder weapon," Sam explained to us, "and in a way, it was part of him."

Dean mulled things over, then looked up at his brother, nodding in realization. "So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power."

"So if we find the hook..." I slowly stated, piecing everything together.

"We stop the Hook Man." Dean and Sam said in chorus, smiling at the revelation.

_Library—Day_

We were back at the library. _Great_. I didn't know if I was just cranky over the fact that I didn't really get any sleep last night, or over the fact that I was up once again, throwing up. So, in that case, my body was weary and sore, mainly in my abdomen. It feels like I had done over a hundred crunches, and today it just seemed like I was just…bloaty.

Dean, Sam, and I found ourselves skimming through more ancient papers. Every now and then, I would catch that red-headed librarian giving Dean and Sam an appreciative once-over, coming to our table to check up on them and whatnot. It was getting on my nerves to be honest.

I couldn't act like that though. We had a job to do, and no matter _how_ badly I wanted to get up and sling a book at her air-filled head, I bit my tongue and kept quiet, scanning the yellowed pages.

"Here's something, I think." Dean announced, quietly, "Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary." He hummed to himself, "_Karns, Jacob. Personal affects: disposition thereof_."

"Does it mention the hook?" Sam asked.

Dean's head bobbed, "Yeah, maybe." He fell quiet, searching for an answer, "_Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner's house of worship, St. Barnabas Church._"

I frowned, "Isn't that where Lori's father preaches?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

Sam frowned as well, "Where Lori _lives?_"

"Maybe that's why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends' daughters for the past 200 years." Dean suggested.

"Yeah, but if the hook were at the church or Lori's house, don't you think someone might've seen it?" I asked, feeling hesitant, "I mean, a bloodstained, silver-handled hook?"

Dean shrugged, "Check the church records."

It didn't take long to find what we were searching for. More or less of an hour.

"_St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged._" Sam let out an exasperated sigh, "They melted it down. Made it into something else."

_St. Barnabas Church—Night_

"Alright, we can't take any chances," Dean instructed as we piled out of the Impala, "Anything silver goes in the fire."

Sam nodded, "I agree. So, Lori's still at the hospital. We'll have to break in."

"Alright, take your pick." Dean said.

"I'll take the house."

Dean smirked, "Ok." He looked at me, "Looks like you're with me, sugar pie." I smiled at him. Sam began to walk away from us, heading to Lori and the Reverend's house, "Hey." Dean called out, catching Sam's attention. As he turned, Sam looked at us quizzically, "Stay out of her underwear drawer."

Sam rolled his eyes with an audible chuckle and turned, heading towards the house. Dean and I headed into the church, gathering each silver-looking thing we could find and headed into the basement. The furnace didn't take no time to light as Dean began throwing everything into the fire. We paused, hearing the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. I glanced to Dean, who stared up at the stairs, and relaxed seeing that it Sam; carrying a bag of things from the house.

"I got everything that even looked silver," Sam said, handing me the bag.

I took it in my arms, "Better safe than sorry." Dean nodded in agreement, piling each thing from within the bag, into the fire. I dropped the empty sack onto the floor upon hearing footsteps from above.

"Move, move." Dean urged, taking his gun out in the process of ascending the stairs. I drew mine out as well, following behind Sam closely. When we reached the top of the stairs, Dean and Sam had stopped. I saw why. Sitting in a pew by herself, was Lori. I heard her crying softly, and lowered my gun.

I looked to Sam and Dean, "I'll stay with her. Go finish up."

Sam looked to me like he was going to argue, though, Dean nodded, grabbing Sam by the arm as they descended back into the basement. Slowly, I tucked my gun into the back of my jeans, covering it with my jacket. It was like…I was _compelled_ to comfort her.

I approached the pew where Lori sat, "Lori?"

She jerked, looking up at me with puffy, red eyes, tears running down her face, "What are you doing here?" She asked me, bewildered.

I sat down beside her, "What is it?"

She shook her head, gazing down into her lap, "I've been trying to understand what's been happening." She replied, "Why? Now I know, so I'm praying for forgiveness."

My curiosity piqued, "Forgiveness for what?" I asked.

Lori gave me a pained look, "Don't you see?" She said, "I'm to blame for all this. I've read in the Bible about avenging angels."

I ended up shocking myself as an amused scoff passed my lips, "Trust me, this guy—," I shook my head, looking to the cross on the wall, "—he's no angel."

Lori clenched her fists, "I was so angry at my father," She whispered, "Part of me wanted him punished." She blinked away tears, "And then he came and he punished him."

I placed my hand on her arm in a comforting manner, "It's not your fault." I said.

Lori nodded intensely, "Yes, Abigail, it is. I don't know how, but it is." I stiffened in my seat, feeling uneasy as if something were in the back of the church watching us. Slowly, I looked over my shoulder, seeing nothing, "I killed Rich. Taylor, too." Lori continued between sobs, not seeing me look around warily, "I nearly killed my father."

Then I smelled it. Ozone. I needed to get Lori out of this place, "Lori…" I said warningly, taking my eyes off my surroundings.

"I can see it now." Lori said to me quietly, "They didn't deserve to be punished. _I_ do."

A _whooshing _sound came from in front of the church, alerting me. I looked up with wide eyes seeing the candles smoking from being blown out by some unseen force. Standing up, I grabbed Lori by the arm, "Come on. We gotta go." I pushed her into the direction of the basement where Dean and Sam were at, until a silver hook burst through the wood. My heart sank as I pushed Lori around, "Go!" I followed Lori into a back room within the church, hearing thunderous footsteps from Karns. Glass shattered from a nearby door, causing Lori to shriek out in terror. I began to let out a curse, then bit my tongue, retracting it seeing the hulking figure of Jacob closing in on us.

My handgun wasn't going to be of any use. I looked around the room, then narrowly missed Jacob's hook, "Lori, find me something iron!" I yelled out, keeping an eye on Karns. I watched the man grin wickedly; his yellowed teeth glinting in the light. Lori scrambled around behind me and handed me something. I glanced, seeing that it was an iron rod.

I swung at him, nailing Karns in the side. He dissipated in a burst of smoke. Lori and I stood, breathing hard. My heart pounded loudly from within my chest, hearing nothing but my heartbeat in my ears. Out of nowhere, Karns appeared from behind me, shoving his hook into my shoulder.

Being caught off guard, I screamed, clutching my shoulder upon feeling the warm, stickiness of my blood seeping through my jacket. Lori screamed out as well, seeing her get dragged across the floor by an unseen force. I rushed forwards to get her, only to be knocked backwards into a wall with a loud, _thud_! I groaned in pain, dizzy from Jacob's blow. I blinked, seeing him stand overtop of Lori and I stood up, maneuvering myself behind him.

Dean burst in with Sam, shotgun raised, "Abs, drop!"

I fell to my knee upon hearing the shotgun go off, Karns dissipating into another cloud of smoke. Standing, I looked at Sam and Dean with wide eyes, holding my hand firmly on my shoulder, "I thought we got all of the silver."

Dean approached me with a dangerous look in his eyes upon seeing blood on my hands, "So did I."

Sam helped Lori up, "Then why is he still here?"

"Well, maybe we missed something!" Dean snapped, turning to face Sam. Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, before I furrowed my brows, seeing a cross necklace hanging around Lori's neck.

"Lori," I stated warily. Dean and Sam looked at her, "Where did you get that chain?"

She grasped the cross tightly in her hands, "My father gave it to me." She answered.

Dean approached her, "Where'd your dad get it?"

Lori's eyes widened with fear, looking to each of us, "He said it was a church heirloom, he gave it to me when I started school." The whole room was beginning to shake around us.

"Is it silver?!" Sam yelled.

"Yes!" Lori cried out, making Sam rip the chain from around her neck. In the hallway, the audible sound of a deep, grating sound echoed. Dean turned, seeing a jagged line come closer.

"Sam!" Dean threw Sam the shotgun and rock salt casings while Sam tossed the necklace to Dean, "Watch Abigail and Lori. Do not let him get near them." Sam gave Dean a curt nod, loading the weapon as Dean tore off down the stairs.

I stood next to Lori, holding my shoulder as Sam fired off in the direction from where the line was being made. He quickly reloaded another round into the chamber, firing off another shot until the Hook man appeared in front of Sam, knocking the weapon out of his hands. Sam grabbed Lori and I as we backed into a corner. Lori buried her face into Sam's shoulder, crying, while Sam and I were staring up at the towering figure of Jacob Karns.

I gripped Sam's hand tightly, breathing hard as he lifted his hook into the air for the final blow. Something had stopped him though. I noticed the tip of the hook begin to glow red, seeping down as it melted. I quickly looked up to Sam who nodded, agreeing with what I saw. Along with his hook, Karns' body cracked with red light piercing through him before he burned away into nothing.

Moments later, Dean came running in, breathing heavily as he looked around to see that Karns was nowhere to be seen. Letting go of Sam's hand, I went over to Dean, who wrapped his arms protectively around me, peering at Sam and Lori with a knowing look. His hand went to the back of my head, pressing his cheek against mine. I felt a tremor go through his body. I knew he had been scared for our safety.

_Later_

"And you saw him, too? The man with the hook?" The Sheriff asked Dean in a disbelieving manner.

"Yes, I told you, we all saw him." Dean replied, irritated, "We fought him off and then he ran."

The sheriff peered at Dean behind his glasses, "And that's all?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah, that's all."

"Listen. You and your brother—," The Sheriff began to say, until Dean had cut him off.

"Oh, don't worry, we're leaving town." Dean finished quickly before he walked towards the Impala—leaving the sheriff gaping and shocked at his response. From the ambulance, Sam and Lori stood in front of me while the paramedic bandaged my shoulder.

"You gonna be okay?" Sam asked me.

I nodded, catching Dean watching us from within the car, "Yeah. Nothing this guy can fix." I added, jabbing my thumb backwards at the paramedic, who began chuckling. A few minutes passed as the paramedic patted my good shoulder as a sign that I was good to go. I looked over my shoulder and smiled, "Thanks."

Standing, Sam, Lori, and I began walking towards the Impala, stopping short and within earshot of Dean. Lori looked between the three of us, "I still don't know what happened." She said, "But I do know you guys saved my life. My father's, too." Lori looked at Sam and smiled at him, "Thank you."

Wordlessly, Sam nodded and smiled back at her, before turning to leave. Dean watched him approach the car. Lori then turned to look at me with a saddened look in her eyes.

"So, you're really not a sorority sister?" She asked.

I slowly shaking my head, offering her a sad smile, "Sadly, no."

Lori shifted in her spot, "Whoever you guys really are…thank you, again." She then turned to Dean, "Take care of her, alright?" Dean offered her a smile and nodded.

"Always, do. Don't ever think I don't," He replied with a grin, gazing up at me.

Lori smiled, turning to me once again, "You know, what time you were, you were great." She hugged me, ensuring that she didn't squeeze my shoulder, and she backed away. I swallowed a knot in my throat. This sucked. I just nodded, and turned, opening the door to the backseat and climbed in.

Dean looked at me and Sam, "We could stay." He offered.

Sam merely shook his head at him, quiet. When I met his eyes, I could see the disappointment in them as I shook my head as well. College looked fun and had its perks, but I knew I wasn't suited for that life. Hunting was I knew.

All of us were quiet as we pulled away, leaving Lori and the legend of Jacob Karns behind.

* * *

**What did you guys think? Be sure to leave it in your reviews, I enjoy reading them! **

**Also, I'm planning on going back through the earlier chapters and perhaps tweaking them a bit. Is there anything that you guys can think of that needs a little more attention? I know I should go back and go deeper within Abigail's nightmares instead of just stating she hasn't been sleeping well, because I know you guys want to know more about it. Along with Dean trying to find a way to help her sleep better as well.  
**

**If ya'll have any ideas about that, let me know!**

**Also, I have two serious questions to ask of you guys...Should I keep the next chapter canon like it should be, or should I do a filler chapter going into Dean and Abigail's past/A day at Charlie's/Past Jobs/etc...?**

**My second one is; If it so happens that Abigail _is_ pregnant, how should Dean react? I can't help but tell myself that Dean wouldn't be too harsh about the reality of being a father, but I know he'd be scared. And the only scene that really comes to my mind is from _50 Shades Freed_ when Anastasia tells Christian about it and he has a minor meltdown and leaves, but comes back...Thoughts?**

**Tell me what _you_, the reader, want to see and happen! _  
_**

**Toodles! 3**


	11. Bugs

_Oklahoma Bar—Night_

_March 23__rd__, 2006_

Smoke so thick it could choke you hung in the air of the bar we were at. The dingy smell mixed with the scent of booze and beer was pretty well the best description of a bar. A rowdy one at that. Men and women alike were jeering at each other, laughing or dancing, hell, even dry humping each other from the looks of it.

_This is just as worse as a college party_, I thought bitterly, rubbing my temples before catching a glimpse of Dean lining up a shot at the pool table. His lips formed a mischievous smirk once he pocketed a striped ball. Looking away from the scene, a bottle of an untouched beer sat in front of me, egging me to drink it. To be honest, I didn't think I could stomach anything tonight considering I was still sore and miserably sick from our little stint in Ankeny with Jacob Karns' spirit.

Sitting across from Sam, he looked at me from overtop the newspaper he was reading with an irritated look as I rotated my stiff right shoulder. With a sigh, Sam placed the paper on the table, giving me a quick once-over.

_Oh boy, here it comes_.

"Abigail, why don't you go take the pregnancy test," He urged for the millionth time, "You know, to be sure?"

An aggravated sigh passed through my lips, "_Sam_, I don't need to take one. For the millionth time, I just have a virus or somethin'."

Underneath the shaggy mess of hair, Sam's darkened eyes swirled with concern. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms until they were straining against his plaid shirt. "Alright then, if you think you just have a _virus_ or some deal, then take it. Prove me wrong, Abs." He shook his head, keeping eye contact with me, "There is nothing wrong with you being in denial."

I felt my body stiffen at the insinuation, "What is there for me to deny, Sam?" I asked him as I balled my hands into fists, "That there's a possibility of being _pregnant_?" I added, glancing over to where Dean was at again. There were three more striped balls on the table, his opponent pocketed one of them so I looked back to Sam.

Sam's shoulder rose, keeping his eyes on me with a stony look, "You tell me. If you don't have a doubt in your mind that you _aren't_ carrying my brother's child, then take it. If you aren't, then I was wrong and I'll apologize."

I stared at the table, weighing my options, "What if you're right?" I whispered, glancing up at him. He leaned forward, reaching out to take hold of my hand in a brotherly fashion.

"Then we'll figure something out," He replied, his face matching the look in his eyes. Feeling him run the pad of his thumb across my knuckles gently, I hesitated, "We need to know. Most importantly, you and Dean need to know."

I groaned, taking my hand away from Sam and leaned back in my chair as I covered my face with my hands, instantly regretting that I did. My shoulder protested at the action, sending a shooting pain straight up into my chest, and into my head. A pained hiss passed through my teeth, jerking forward to make it stop hurting. Sam had a point, and if it turned out he was right—my insides flopped at the thought.

Laying my hands on the table, I scooted out of the table, "You know what? _Fine_." I lifted my hands up in defeat, seeing a smug grin pass his lips, "Don't you _dare_ start with that smug look, Samuel Winchester," Sam sat back with a stunned look, "I'm going to prove you wrong."

"Fine." He stated in a casual manner.

"Fine." I quipped, repeating him. Shoving my hand down inside my coat and around the slender, wrapped stick. His dark brows pulled together in a scowl.

"You mean to tell me you've had that on you?" He asked, throwing a glance at the pool table again.

I shrugged, "I was scared to take it, alright?" I watched Sam draw his lips into a tight line, waving me off to go do my thing. I groaned, turning on my heel to go to the ladies restroom.

_What would Dean think? How would he act?_ I kept asking myself, passing through the doors into a relatively clean restroom, despite how the rest of the bar looked like. Finding a stall that wasn't damaged and had toilet seat covers, I stepped inside, closing the stall door and locked it. I must have pulled out two or three covers, setting them down onto the toilet seat, before I pulled my handgun out and set it on the disposable trash lid for feminine hygiene products. I turned around to pull my pants and underwear down, then sat.

I dug into my jacket, pulling the wrapped pregnancy test out. Like a flip of a switch, my heart began to race. This wasn't something I needed to happen right now, or ever. With furrowed brows, I tore the wrapper open, took off the plastic cap and stuck it between my legs.

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping—_praying—_that I was just sick. Placing the cap back on it, I put the test next to my weapon as I stood back up, pulling my pants and underwear up, and flushed. The first thing I had grabbed was my weapon and concealed it with my jacket. I wanted anything and everything to do with getting away from that test as quickly as possible, but not knowing what the outcome determined? I shivered.

Slowly, I picked it up facedown as I took short, quick palpitated breaths. My hands were beginning to grow cold and I felt a tremor run through my body. _God, please._ I begged, turning it over.

_Positive._

A sick, empty pit hallowed out what was left of my stomach and I leaned forward over the toilet once again to throw up. _Fuck._ _Oh fuck_.

_How?_ Okay, stupid question. I spit, tears filling up my eyes as another round of vomiting came back. _Oh shit_. This was it. _Sam was right_. I kneeled, feeling my knees buckle. _Worst of all, the shifter was right._ I leaned my forehead against my arm, letting a sob tear through me. This was bad. This was _really_ bad.

I had to let on that I wasn't sick. Or crying. Something to pass off as fine until I had figured out how to announce this to Dean. Something about Sam told me he was going to be fine about it, but Dean…

I wiped my face and stood up, flushing the commode once again. I shoved the stick into my jacket and left the stall, and crossed the room to the sink where I twisted the knobs. Cupping my hands under the water, I ran them across my face a few times to ensure that I hadn't looked like I was crying. Quietly, I stared at my reflection.

Staring back was a blonde haired, wide-eyed girl who looked tired and scared. She needed a new dye-job, a good-night's rest, and someone to tell her it was going to be okay. But from the scrutinizing look that she had given me, it wasn't going to happen. Not at first.

I ran my hands down my pant legs, drying them before I turned and lifted my shirt, exposing my stomach. Pale scars striped across my sides and dotted along until they vanished underneath my shirt and jeans, running a hand numbly across my bloated abdomen. I couldn't have been far along, though I was far enough to see the beginnings of a pudge. I frowned at that.

Pulling my shirt back over my stomach, I let out a nervous breath. _Eye of the Tiger._ I chanted, reaching for the door handle opened the door. Lo and behold, standing on the other side was Dean. I jumped back with a curse. He looked at me with raised brows.

"Jesus Christ, Dean!" I chided, putting my hand over my already racing heart. Seeing him just made it worse.

He raised his hands in defense, chuckling at my easy scare. "Take it easy, babe. Sam told me you went to the bathroom," Dean shrugged, eyeing me with a grin, "Figured I'd check on you, to see if you were alright."

_I'm more than alright, Dean_. _I'm carrying your kid._ "Yeah, I'm fine." I lied with a false laugh, "The smoke and whatnot just got to me, you know how it's been." I watched Dean's brow arch skeptically and I shifted in my place, uncomfortable. _Tell him!_ "Uhm, so, has Sam found us anythin'?" I asked. _Fuck._

Dean shrugged, straightening up, "Perhaps," He placed his hand on the small of my back when we started back to the table, "A place in Oasis Plains, Oklahoma. A guy supposedly died from mad cow disease."

I paused, shoving the feeling of dread into the back of my mind for now, "He died because he ate a bad burger?"

Dean turned and looked at me with enthusiasm, "That's what I said! But no, apparently it takes months, even years for something like that to happen. Except this guy's brain disintegrated in an hour, maybe less."

I nodded, remembering the episode as we approached Sam, "Yeah, I remember seein' that on Oprah."

Sam's body jerked in our direction, giving Dean a smug look. I looked between the two men upon seeing Dean shift a little, his face flushing a deep red with embarrassment. I must've proven another point on Sam's behalf. Oops.

_Oklahoma Gas and Power Company Building—Day_

Getting out of the car, Sam, Dean, and I approached a short built man putting a bag into his car. Sam approached him, asking if he was Travis Weaver. When Travis replied he was, I stepped forward with a smile.

"Are you the Travis who worked with Uncle Dusty?" I asked, earning a confused look from the short built man.

Travis looked from me, then to Dean and Sam, "Dustin never mentioned a niece…or nephews."

Dean smirked, "Really? Well, he sure mentioned you."

"He said you were the greatest." I added in an attempt to butter the man up. Successfully, a look of surprise crossed the man's face. _Score!_

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

A smile broke. "Oh, he did? Huh."

"Listen, we wanted to ask you…what exactly happened out there?" Dean asked.

Travis' smiled faded upon Dean's question, "I'm not sure." His shoulders lifted in a shrug, "He fell in a sinkhole, I went to the truck to get some rope, and, uh…" Travis swallowed a lump forming in his throat, "by the time I got back…"

He trailed off, hanging his head low.

"What did you see?" I urged gently.

Travis looked up at me with a small shake of his head, "Nothin'. Just Dustin."

"No wounds or anything?" Sam asked.

"Well, he was bleeding…" Travis brought a hand up to his face, "From his eyes and his ears, his nose. But that's it."

Dean folded his arms, "So you think it could be this whole mad cow thing?"

Travis squinted from the direction of the sun, "I don't know. That's what the doctors are sayin'."

"But if it was, he would've acted strange beforehand, like dementia, loss of motor control." Sam explained, "You ever notice anything like that?"

Travis shook his head, "No. No way." He stated, "But then again, if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?"

"That's a good question." I answered.

Sam opened his mouth, closed it in reconsideration, then opened it again, "You know, can you tell us where this happened?"

Travis nodded, "Yeah."

_Sinkhole_

It didn't take long to have Travis explain where it happened. In the matter of half an hour, we found ourselves pulling in at the scene of Dustin's death. It wasn't hard spotting the yellow police tape surrounding the sinkhole, we all three peered into it.

Dean hummed thoughtfully, "What do you think?" he asked, raising his eyes to Sam and me.

"I don't know," Sam shrugged, "But if that guy, Travis, was right, it happened pretty damn fast."

We ducked under the tape, Dean taking out a flashlight to look into it.

"So, what? Some sort of creature chewed on his brain?" Dean asked.

I shook my head, "No, there'd be an entry wound," I gazed into the dark hole feeling absurdly uncomfortable, "Sounds like this thing worked from the inside."

"Huh. Looks like there's only room for one." Dean said before looking at us, "You wanna flip a coin?"

Sam looked at his brother with a hint of exasperation, "Dean, we have no idea what's down there."

With a shrug of nonchalance, Dean spotted a rope laying nearby and picked it up, "Alright, I'll go if you guys are scared." He looked at Sam, "You scared?"

I frowned at him. "Flip the damn coin," Sam said, irritated.

Dean chuckled, digging in his pocket for a second and pulled out a quarter, "Alright, call it in the air…chicken." As soon as Dean flipped the quarter, I snatched it out of midair with my good hand before Sam could. They looked at me stunned.

Sam, more or less, looked like he was going to kick my ass, "Abigail, no—"

"I said I'd go." Dean interjected. Sam threw him a dirty look.

I looked between both of them with narrowed eyes, "I said I'd go. I'm smaller than both of you combined, and not to mention, _lighter._"

Sam clenched his jaw, staring me down. I knew he wanted to say something to me, "What about your shoulder?"

I shrugged, "It'll be fine. 's not like I'm climbin' anythin'."

Sam shook his head, "No."

I watched Dean run a hand through is short hair, "Abigail, it's a _hole_. It'll be dangerous."

I nodded with a blank expression, "Yeah? And?"

He glanced over to the sinkhole then at me, "It's dark and it might have bugs." I smirked at his attempts to dissuade me from going in, "Besides, Sam's right. What about your shoulder?"

"It's a hole, Dean. It's gonna have bugs. My shoulder is fine." I countered, taking the rope from his hands and began looping it around my legs and finally my waist, leaving enough left over for Dean and Sam to pull me out, if needed. I didn't look at either one of them until I edged over to the hole and sat at the edge of it.

"Don't drop me," I stated, looking at Dean and Sam, who were readying for my descent. Sam arched at brow at me, giving me a tight-lipped look while Dean only chuckled.

"We ain't gonna drop you," he said as I nodded, taking a deep breath as I slid forward feeling the rope cut into my waist and legs. My hurt shoulder hit the side of the hole and I winced, _This was a bad idea._

Ten feet down and a pair of muddy pants and hands later, I landed at the bottom of the hole, barely able to see what was in it. I shifted to my knees, digging into my jacket pocket to pull out a small flashlight.

"You see anything?" I heard Dean ask from above.

_It's a hole. It's dark down here, numb-nuts. _"No, Dean!" I replied, shaking my head at him. The flashlight made a world of difference, seeing roots hanging down, an occasional worm or two or three. If you were of the fainthearted, this wasn't the place to be. Nonetheless, I was surprised how much room there was down here. I mean, yeah, I'm _way_ smaller than a man, but something just didn't feel right about it.

Thirty minutes and a pee stop later, I was up front and in between Sam and Dean. I don't think Dean really liked the thought of his _pregnant_ and muddy girlfriend sitting in the front seat. With beetles.

Sam and I each had one in our hands, examining them.

Dean glanced over at us, "So you found some beetles, Abs. In a hole. In the ground." I looked up from the dead bug in my hand, "That's shocking."

I let out a sigh, "There were no tunnels, no tracks." I explained, "No evidence of any other kind of creature down there." I moved my hand with the beetle closer to Dean, who shied away with a grimace. I grinned.

"You know, some beetles _do_ eat meat," Sam added, not looking up from his hand, "Now, it's usually dead meat, but…"

"How many did you find down there?" Dean asked, when Sam trailed off into another thought.

I shrugged, "Ten."

"It'd take a whole lot more than that to eat out some dude's brain," He stated. Sam and I grimaced at the thought of that.

"Well, maybe there were more." Sam suggested.

I nodded, _It was plausible._

Dean shook his head, "I don't know, it sounds like a stretch to me."

"Well, we need more information on the area, the neighborhood." Sam stated, "Whether something like this has ever happened before."

Something had caught Dean's eye, when he looked at it quickly. I had seen it too, watching a sign saying _Open House_ with red balloons decorating it. Sam blinked.

"What?" He asked.

Dean glanced at us again, "I know a good place to start." We saw another sign, _Models Open. New Buyers' BBQ Today!_ Scrawled on it. Dean smirked at the sign, "I'm kinda hungry for a little barbeque, how 'bout you guys?" Sam looked to his brother with an arched brow, "What, we can't talk to the locals?"

I giggled, "And the free food's got nothin' to do with it?"

Dean shook his head, straightening in his seat, "Of course not," he replied, "I'm a professional."

Sam and I shared at knowing look that Dean was for the food. "_Right._" We said in unison as Dean pulled the Impala over and put it in park, getting out. Rounding the car with Sam, he threw me an expectant look. I shook my head, mouthing _later._ He pursed his lips at me before Dean joined us.

Along the streets were picture perfect houses with manicured lawns, each looking identical. Very Stepford.

Dean gave each house a distasteful glance, shoving his hands in his pockets, "Growin' up in a place like this would freak me out." He said suddenly. Sam and I blinked, taken off guard.

"Why?" We asked.

Dean shrugged, "Well, manicured lawns, _How was your day, honey_?" He shook his head in distaste, "I'd blow my brains out."

Sam scoffed at him, "There's nothing wrong with _normal_."

And there really wasn't. I didn't quite live in a hoity-toity picturesque gated community that belonged in a _Better Homes and Gardens_ magazine, but I had an idea of what a stable life was like. Yes, I'd admit this very second that I moved around for the first few years of my life, just from what my mom would tell me. After she found out she was pregnant with the twins, that's when they settled down into a stable environment. Reinforcing a simple log home with several sigils and banishing symbols, they deemed it safe. Then added the prison-esque fencing around the perimeter, iron rods running each length of the fence deemed it impassable to sprits. They had a large automated gate installed, and finished it off with two large barns on the premises. That when it was finally considered safe…it was almost like Fort Knox. But not by much.

Having spent the last eleven and a half years with John, Sam, and Dean, I had grown accustomed to our nomadic lifestyle. I enjoyed seeing the sights of different places, no matter how cheesy or how simple it was. Being there with the Winchesters just made it feel like home. To Dean, the Impala was the only _home_ he had. I could understand Dean's uncomfortableness with an idea of staying put.

Sam and I were the closest thing he ever had to stability.

Dean puffed his lips out into a pout, shaking his head, "Well, I'd take our family over normal any day." He replied glancing to us with a smirk. He then snaked his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him and planted a gentle kiss on my temple. I smiled nervously when his fingers brushed against my lower abdomen. _If you only knew, Dean_. I thought, glancing over to Sam, who raised a brow at me, remaining silent.

The three of us approached the new house, standing on the stoop as Dean knocked casually when moments later, a middle-aged man with a fake tan, answered.

He offered us a pleasant smile, however, his eyes scanned each of us with scrutiny, "Welcome."

Dean smiled back at him, ignoring the look in his eyes, "This the barbeque?"

The man laughed a little, "Yeah, not the best weather, but…" he extended his hand, "I'm Larry Pike, the developer here." His eyes went to each of us again, "And you are…?"

Dean shook his hand, "Dean. This is Abigail. And this is Sam."

I smiled lightly, extending my hand to shake his, "Pleasure."

Sam nodded as he shook Larry's hand as well.

"It's good to meet you," He said, "So, you three are interested in Oasis Plains?"

Dean wrapped his arm around my waist with a grin, "Yes, sir."

Larry looked over at Sam, who laughed slightly, "I'm just a tag-along, they insisted I came with them…second opinion." Larry nodded his head and smiled.

"Great. Great," He said, stepping aside to let us enter, "Come on in, it's always good to bring someone else along. Spread the word." We each nodded in thanks as we filed in, following Larry through the house and out to the backyard where we stepped out, seeing many people milling around the place chatting and eating.

My stomach growled upon smelling the food. _That's a first._

Sam looked at Larry, "You said you were the developer?"

He nodded, "Eighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team. There was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels. And you know what, we built such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself. This is our house." He explained with a smile that clearly stated that he was proud of his work, "We're the first family in Oasis Plains."

Larry then led us to a woman wearing a pink cardigan, her hair falling softly over her shoulders, "This is my wife, Joanie."

Joanie offered her husband a sweet smile, "Hi there."

Dean smiled, extending his hand as they shook, "Hi."

She smiled, "Hi, nice to meet you."

Larry looked to each of us, "Dean, Abigail, and Sam."

Sam extended his hand after Joanie shook mine, "Sam."

Joanie smiled, "Pleasure." She looked to Dean and I, "What a lovely couple."

"Tell them how much you love the place, honey. And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses." Larry joked with his wife. We all shared a laugh before Larry parted ways with us.

"Don't let his salesman routine scare you." Joanie said reassuringly, "This really is a great place to live." She offered another reassuring smile to Dean and I, "This would be a great place for young families to start out in as well."

Dean and I tensed at the comment, though from Dean's grip tightening, he wasn't into the thought of settling down. I swallowed. Neither was I, and the feeling of pressure in my abdomen was just a constant reminder of what was to come. I forced myself to laugh, placing my arm around Dean's waist, "Oh, all in due time, ma'am." I felt Dean relax a little, however, I remained tense.

From Sam's body language, he knew I had gotten uncomfortable. A woman with black hair pulled into a tight, neat bun approached us, extending her hand.

"Hi, I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales." She introduced.

We all just kinda stood there, blinking at the suddenness of Lynda. Joanie smiled at her, "And Lynda was the second to move in. She's a very noisy neighbor, though." She jested before walking away from the group.

Lynda laughed, "She's kidding, of course." Her eyes fell upon Dean and I, "I take it you two are interested in becoming homeowners."

I blinked. "Well…" Dean began to say, taken aback.

"Y-yeah, well…" I stammered, looking to Sam for help. He pursed his lips in amusement.

"Well, let me just say that it would be _wonderful_ to have some young families here." She continued. Dean looked over at me, chuckling, however the uncomfortable look that reigned in his eyes was evident.

Dean coughed into his hand, "Right. Um…I'm gonna go talk to Larry." He said to Sam and I. He then kissed my forehead, "Okay, honey?" We nodded, until I jumped from Dean smacking me on my ass. I didn't look at anyone, knowing my face was turning a beet-red from embarrassment.

While Dean was gone with Larry, probably getting the grand tour of the place, Sam and I stood in uncomfortable silence listening to Lynda's overused and highly foreseeable, sale's pitch.

"Who can say 'no' to a steam shower? I use mine every day." She boasted.

"Sounds great," I replied utterly uninterested in the woman's conversation.

"Excuse me," Sam said suddenly, bypassing Lynda and I to scoop something up. I realized I was doing this by myself. _Traitors_. I accused silently in my head. Surprisingly, Lynda finished as I told her I'd check back with her once I consulted with _my husband _and _brother-in-law._ With a smile and a nod, Lynda walked off. I blew out a sigh of relief and sought out my brother.

Approaching Sam, I saw him speaking to a teenaged boy, holding a god forsaken tarantula. My face paled upon seeing it, hearing Sam say, "Ouch. First name basis with the old man - sounds pretty grim."

The boy looked a little anti-social, not very picture perfect in this type of setting. He glanced behind Sam from underneath his scraggly hair, and looked back down with a soft tint on his face.

"Hey." I said, eyeing the tarantula.

Sam looked at me and smiled, "Hey. Uh, Abigail. This is Matt. Larry's son."

I smiled at him, "Oh. Hi."

Matt nodded quickly. "I'm not exactly brochure material." He said, picking up from where their conversation left off.

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile, "Well, hang in there. It gets better, alright? I promise."

The boy didn't look like he quite believed Sam, "_When_?"

I opened my mouth to say something, "Matthew." Came Larry's voice behind us.

Sam and I turned to see Larry and Dean approaching us. Larry smiled apologetically, "I am so sorry about my son and his…pet."

Sam and I smiled at him, "It's no bother." I offered, knowing I was lying through my teeth. _Good God that thing is huge._ I thought, glancing at the overgrown arachnid in Matthew's hands. I shivered.

"Excuse us." He said, walking away from us with his son. I frowned, watching Larry beginning to yell at him.

Sam, who was standing beside me, furrowed his brows, "Remind you of somebody?" He asked Dean, who looked over to scene and back to him, confused. Sam scoffed, "_Dad_?"

Dean blinked, "Dad never treated us like that."

I blinked. _Seriously?_ "Well, Dad never treated you or Abigail like that." Sam said lightly, "You two were _perfect_. He was all over my case." Dean's blank expression irritated Sam further, "You don't remember?"

Dean shrugged dismissively, "Well, maybe he had to raise his voice, but sometimes, you were out of line."

A flare of anger sparked to life and I scoffed, folding my arms, earning a shocked look from Dean, "Dad was hard on him, and you know it." Sam bowed his head a little, "Remember when he said he'd rather play soccer than learn bow hunting?"

Dean frowned, "Bow hunting's an important skill."

I rolled my eyes at him, "Whatever," I said curtly.

"So, uh, how was your tour?" Sam asked, switching the subject.

Dean grinned, "Oh it was excellent. I'm ready to buy and have Abs start popping out kids." I paled again. _Shit._ Sam laughed lightly at the joke, "So you guys might be onto somethin'. Looks like Dustin Burwash wasn't the first strange death around here."

I swallowed, trying to recover from Dean's meaningless joke, "What happened?"

"About a year ago, before they broke ground, one of Larry's surveyors dropped dead while on the job." He explained, "Get this, severe allergic reaction to bee stings."

"More bugs." Sam murmured.

Dean nodded, "More bugs."

_Great_.

_Impala—Night_

Sam sat in the driver seat while Dean sat in the back of the Impala with me, reading John's journal quietly. I noticed Sam glancing at me from the rearview mirror every now and then. I frowned at him.

"You know, I've heard of killer bees, but killer _beetles_?" Dean stated, "What is it that could make different bugs attack?"

"Well, hauntings sometimes include bug manifestations." Sam said, turning his eyes forward.

"Yeah, but I didn't see or feel any evidence of ghost activity." I said, "Yeah, I've had a bad feeling that this place has bad mojo hangin' around, but as screwed up as I've felt," I frowned shaking my head, "I can't tell which is Abby-senses and which ain't."

Dean looked at me with concern. Before we left Ankeny, he tried to persuade me into going to a hospital several times. I didn't take it, "Maybe they're being controlled somehow." He suggested, "You know, by something or someone."

I looked at Dean, "You mean, like _Willard_?"

"Yeah," Dean said, "Bugs instead of rats."

I shivered, I hated that movie as bad as Sam hated _It_. "There are cases of psychic connection between people and animals—elementals, telepaths." Sam explained from up front.

"Yeah, the whole Timmy-Lassie thing." Dean fell silent, then blinked with realization, "Larry's kid—he's got bugs for pets."

"Matt?" I asked.

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

Sam smirked, "Well, he did try to scare Lynda with a tarantula."

"You think he's our Willard?" Dean asked, putting the journal down and pulled me into his arms.

Sam's shoulders lifted, "I don't know. Anything's possible I guess."

Dean straightened a little, "Ooh, hey." He said, seeing one of the new houses, "Pull over here."

Sam did, turning in his seat once we were parked, "What are we doing here?"

Dean got out, "It's too late to talk to anybody else."

"We're gonna squat in an empty house?" I deadpanned, getting out to stretch.

Dean grinned at me, "I wanna try the steam shower, come on." He grabbed my hand, and I didn't budge. Sam stared at him in shock. "Come on." He urged, that childlike excitement sparkling in his eyes and gave me his trademark grin.

_Inside the house_

Inside, I was so uncomfortable being in there. We were out of place in this house. It was so…pristine. Definitely something that came straight from _Better Homes and Gardens_. Dean was already upstairs, exploring.

I sat my duffle bag on the couch, looking around.

"Spill." Sam said.

I spun around with wide-eyes, seeing him standing with crossed arms, "Spill what?"

He arched a brow, "You know what I'm talking about."

I looked down, "Right now?"

"Yes."

I chewed on my lip, "You, uh, were right." I murmured, slowly glancing up at Sam, "I'm…" I blinked away tears, "I'm pregnant." Sam stood with widened eyes, speechless. I frowned, growing anxious, "Sam, speak." He didn't. "_Sammy._ You gotta say somethin'." I urged, cringing at the sound of my voice cracking, "I-I'm literally about to just freak out."

Suddenly I was enveloped in tight hug. I blinked. _What the-?_

Sam stepped back away from me, a small smile gracing his face and teary eyed, "Congratulations." He murmured.

I shook my head, tears welling up. "No, Sam. Not _congratulations_. This is bad." Sam frowned at me, "What am I going to do about _this?_" I asked, gesturing my stomach before I began to pace, "How am I supposed to tell _Dean_? What is he gonna do when I tell him?" I asked, swallowing a lump in my throat, "He's going to leave, Sam." I concluded, stopping in front of Sam, "He's not ready for this. _I'm_ not ready for this."

"Abigail, you're overreacting," Sam said, "Dean isn't going to leave you. You two have been together through everything that a hunter can have thrown at them."

"We handle _monsters_, not kids, Sam." I deadpanned. I ran my hands through my hair. In all honesty, I felt like I was going to have a mental breakdown. The sound of a shower running alerted me.

"_Abs!_" I heard Dean call out, "_You gotta check this out!_"

Sam looked up as well and he sighed, "You gonna tell him?"

I shrugged, "I don't know how, Sam."

"You'll figure it out. You always have," He said, wrapping me in his arms again and kissed the top of my head. Sam then smiled, "You and Dean will be great parents."

I smiled softly, tears in my eyes still, "Thank you, Sam." I picked up my bag, "You're gonna be a great uncle, just so you know." Sam chuckled, bringing his hand to the back of his head and scratched.

"Uh, thanks." He replied, watching as I ascended the stairs, flashing him a quick half-smile.

_The Next Morning_

I woke up in a tangle of sheets. Looking to my side, Dean was nowhere to be found until the sound of water running caught my attention. Realizing that he was in the steam shower to rejuvenate himself from last night's events, I slowly slid out of the once pristine bed and padded over to my duffle bag, stark naked. A full-length mirror hung on the opposite side of the wall from me, allowing my eyes to fall upon my naked body.

Straightening up, the cool brass of my necklace fell between my breasts. I lowered my eyes to my stomach…it still looked bloated, if not worse than what it was the other day, and my breasts already looked bigger than what they normally do. I shook my head at myself. I don't usually take the time to notice things about my body, but I knew there was some big changes coming around the corner. I blew out a small sigh, kneeling down to my bag and pulled out a matching bra and panty set, a pair of boot cut jeans with the knees worn out, a black tank top, and a rather baggy, blue plaid button up.

By the time I had pulled on my boots, Sam opened the door—pausing, once he saw that I was tying the laces, "Is he still in there?" He asked, glancing to the door.

I nodded, "Yeah, he's still primping."

Sam shook his head, "And I thought you were bad."

I scoffed, "Oh. Yeah, _sure_. I don't take long at all, it's just when I have to pretend I'm something I'm not."

Stepping into Dean and I's room, Sam sat on the edge of the bed beside me and rested his elbows on his knees, "So…did you tell him?"

My hands halted on my boots. "No…?"

I watched as Sam's dark brows pulled together, "Why not?"

Giving him an incredulous look, I motioned a hand in the direction of the bathroom, "Because he'd have a coronary!" I whispered. I rested my forehead against my knee, and shook my head, "I'm gonna tell him, Sam. I am…" Looking to Sam, I frowned, "I just…I'm still trying to figure out what to say."

"Uh, a simple, I'm pregnant would suffice, Abigail." Sam retorted.

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, easier said than done, Sammy." He shook his head, his shaggy hair getting in his eyes. I ran a hand through his hair, "You need a haircut."

Sam moved away, smoothing his hair down, "No, I don't."

I shrugged, "Five minutes with a pair of scissor, Sammy. 's all I'm sayin'."

"I'm good," He said with a smile, "Thanks." Sam stood and crossed the room and over to the bathroom door, knocking on it, "You ever comin' out of there?"

"What?" Dean called out.

"Dean, a police call came in on the scanner." Sam called out loud enough for Dean to hear over the sound of the water.

"Hold on." Dean called out again, realizing that it wasn't me.

Sam folded his arms, continuing, "Someone was found _dead_ three blocks from here." He prodded once the water cut off.

I stood up, grabbing my jacket from the back of a chair and shrugged it on, seeing Dean emerge from the bathroom door, steam rolling out. I fought back a laugh, seeing him step out with a towel around his head and a grin on his face, "This shower is _awesome_."

Sam and I rolled our eyes at him, "Come on." Sam urged.

_Bloome Residence_

It was raining. _Lovely_.

Dean pulled the Impala in front of a house, window wipers slapping to each side of the windshield before he cut the engine. The three of us got out upon seeing Larry holding an umbrella in one hand and in the other, holding his phone to his ear. He looked distraught as he spoke to someone on his phone. A couple of EMTs carried out a body on a stretcher from inside the house, earning curious looks from Dean, Sam, and I. We watched with interest as the crew placed the black body bag into the back of the coroner's vehicle.

Larry soon caught sight of us, casting the one final glance at his phone, and pocketed it. "Hello." He said, approaching the three of us, "You're, uh, back early."

"Yeah, we just drove in, wanted to take another look at the neighborhood." Dean said.

"What's goin' on?" I asked, casting another look at the county vehicle.

Larry sighed, looking to it as well, "You guys met, uh…Lynda Bloome at the barbeque?"

Sam nodded, "The realtor."

Larry nodded, running a hand through his thinning hair, "Well, she, uh…" he swallowed hard, "passed away last night." I tried to keep the look of shock off my face, but from the matching looks of Sam and Dean, I was closer to say that I failed at the façade too.

"What happened?" Dean pressed from beside me.

"I'm still tryin' to find out." His jaw muscle tensed, "Identified the body for the police. Look, I-I'm sorry, this isn't a good time now." He said, casting us an apologetic look.

I nodded, "It's okay."

Larry excused himself, walking away from us and climbed into his car, pulling away from the scene. I looked to Sam and Dean.

They must've had the same thought as I did. "You know what we have to do, right?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah. Get in that house."

A smirk played on Dean's features, "See if we got a bug problem."

We waited for a while to allow the people to disperse, the police to lockdown the house, and put yellow tape across the door. Once the area was clear, we made our way to the side of the house where the fence was our only barrier from here to the inside. Dean wasted no time getting over, leaving Sam and me to follow suit—despite the small non-verbal argument between us. It wasn't like I was out of shape or anything, because I wasn't. And for once—knock on wood—I wasn't sick.

_Inside Bloome Residence_

Climbing into the bedroom window after Sam and Dean, I looked around the pristine bedroom of Lynda Bloome. Once again, it was like it came out of the _Better Homes and Gardens_ magazine. I frowned with distaste, moving into the bathroom where the outline of Lynda's body was drawn.

"This looks like the place," I murmured, carefully picking up the towel that was lying on the floor, only to drop it quickly upon seeing that it was covered in dead spiders, "_Shit!"_ A frightening squeak passed my lips, causing me to clap my hand over my mouth and leapt backwards.

_Always with the spiders!_

Dean rushed in gun drawn, eyes looking around for the cause of my sound, then started laughing at me upon seeing the dead spiders on the towel.

My face flushed red with embarrassment. Dean sidestepped the towel, still laughing by the way, and placed his gun in the back of his jeans.

"What'd I tell ya, sugar pie? You're wussing out on me." He jested when Sam stepped in, seeing the towel and of course, red-faced with embarrassment, me. A dark brow arched at the scene that had folded out, looking back down at the towel.

"What is it?" He asked, "Spiders?"

"Spiders." He confirmed, "From Spider Boy?"

"_Matt?_" He asked, then paused to think. With a nod after piecing it together, Sam cast a glance at me, "—maybe."

I took my hand away from my mouth, sliding both of my hands down onto my knees to calm my breathing. _Holy shizz, I hate spiders._ I blinked away angry tears, knowing that I could've prevented that reaction. _Stupid typical girl fears._ _Stupid hormones. Stupid everything._

"You alright?" I heard Dean ask.

Looking up, I nodded, "Yeah…just…" A sigh passed through, "Fine."

_Road—Day_

Dean and Sam had come to the conclusion that we were going to confront the black sheep of Larry's family, Matt. It was around three-thirty, four o'clock…usually the time a bus will run through to drop kids off. We watched quietly from a far as a bus stopped, letting Matt off and began walking.

"Isn't his house that way?" Dean asked, pointing in the opposite direction of which Matt was going.

"Yup." I answered, seeing Dean look up at me from the rearview mirror.

"So, where's he goin'?" He asked. Sam and I shrugged in unison, determining it was time to follow the boy.

It didn't take long. He was in the woods, examining a grasshopper.

Sam and I walked up to him, Dean behind us.

"Hey, Matt." Sam said, "Remember me?"

Startled, Matt jumped up with wide eyes, "What are you doin' out here?"

"Well," I began with a half-smile, "We wanna talk to you."

Matt looked between Dean and I, then to Sam, "You're not here to buy a house, are you?" He questioned, worried. Dean shook his head. "W-wait. You're not serial killers?"

Now, _that_ was funny. Typical teenager. We laughed.

"No, no." Sam chuckled as Matt tried to coax the grasshopper into a box, "No, I think you're safe."

"So, Matt…" Dean stepped in, "You sure know a lot about insects."

"So?" Matt quipped.

_Ooh, snippy little shit._ I thought wryly. "Did you hear what happened to Lynda, the realtor?"

He nodded, "I hear she died this morning."

"Mhm, that's right. _Spider_ bites." Dean said.

"Matt…you tried to scare her with a spider." Sam pointed out gently.

Brows furrowed under his shaggy mop of hair, Matt looked to each of us incredulously, "_Wait._ You think I had something to do with that?"

Dean tipped his head to the side, "You tell us."

Matt scoffed, "That tarantula was a joke. Besides, I was trying to scare _her_." He explained, looking at me. Sam and Dean looked to me with amused looks. I stood in my place, obviously gaping in shock. _Seriously?!_

"Anyway, that wouldn't explain the bee attack or the gas company guy," Matt finished.

Sam blinked, "You know about those?"

He nodded at Sam, "There is somethin' going on here. I don't know what…but something's happening with the insects." He picked up his backpack, "Let me show you guys something."

We followed Matt into another area, and just like that, a wave of anxiousness just pummeled me. _This ain't good._ I swallowed, "So, if you know about all this bug stuff, why not tell your dad?" I asked, looking around the area we were walking through.

"Maybe he could clear everybody out." Sam added.

"_Believe_ me, I've tried." Matt replied, shifting his bag a little, "But, uh, _Larry_ doesn't listen to me."

I blinked, "Why not?"

Matt looked to me, "Mostly? He's too disappointed in his freak son."

Sam scoffed from beside me, "I hear you." He murmured.

Dean and I looked at him with. "You do?" Dean asked.

Sam turned his head, giving Dean an incredulous look at his blank stare. I matched it as well.

_How doesn't he realize that?_ I asked myself.

"Matt, how old are you?" Sam asked.

"Sixteen."

"Well, don't sweat it, because in two years, something great's gonna happen." I said, giving the boy a reassuring grin.

All eyes were on me. "What?" he asked.

Sam instantly knew what I was going to say, "College." He finished for me, throwing me a thankful look. I winked, shoving my hands into my pockets, "You'll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad."

Dean glared at the both of us, "What the _hell_ kind of advice is that?" He questioned in anger, "Kid should stick with his family."

_Hard headed as ever_. I sighed, upon seeing Sam glare at him and sighed as well.

"How much farther, Matt?" Sam asked, ignoring the displeasing glare from Dean.

_Just great, not in a good mood. _I thought, stepping over a log.

Matt looked at him, "We're close."

Sam threw Dean another glare before he continued to walk. All of us were quiet. Awkward…but quiet. A few moments later, we found ourselves into a rather large clearing. Nothing was in the middle, though from the trees surrounding the area, the hums and buzzing of _at least_ a hundred different insects resonated from them.

I didn't like this place at all.

"I've been keeping track of insect populations." Matt explained, "It's, um, part of an AP science class."

Dean scoffed, looking over at Sam, "You two are like peas in a pod."

Sam ignored Dean's quip, "What's been happening?"

Matt shrugged, "A lot. I mean, from bees to earthworms, beetles…you name it. It's like they're congregating here."

"Why?" Dean asked.

Matt shrugged once again, "I don't know."

Something had caught my eye, "What's that?" I suddenly asked, pointing to a dark patch of grass just feet away. The boys gave it a curious look, and approached it. It didn't take long to discover that dark patch was _hundreds _of worms squirming around. Looking down at them, I smiled smugly at the squirming creatures, _Good lord the fishin' worms._

Dean stepped on some of them, pushing his weight into his foot, only to retract when the ground gave way into a hole. He crouched, picking up a stick and prodded around the hole, "There's somethin' down there."

Putting down the stick, he placed a hand into the hole, searching for something. It became evident that he did from the disgusted look on his face, soon bringing his hand up with whatever he found. A sinking feeling dropped into my stomach as we all stared, horrified to see covered in dirt and worms, a human skull.

"Oh, this ain't good at all." I breathed out. Every alarm in my body was going off.

_Department of Anthropology_

I carried the box of bones that Dean and Sam had dug up back at the clearing with Matt. These bones gave me the heebie-jeebies something awful, and to add on to that, my stomach was already doing vomit-inducing summersaults. Needless to say, I was less than thrilled to be carrying a bunch of ancient bones. Sam and Dean stepped out of the Impala, slamming the doors shut.

Sam and Dean walked along side me as we head towards the building. We were all quiet. Dean and Sam were still butting heads…occasionally bringing me into it. I took Sam's side of course, which seemed to make Dean pissier.

"So, a bunch of skeletons in an unmarked grave." I thought out loud, walking.

"Yeah." Dean commented, "Maybe this is a haunting. Pissed off spirits? Some unfinished business?" He asked, dishing out the possibilities.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam stated, "Question is, why bugs? And why now?"

"That's two questions." Dean said pointedly. Sam and I ignore him. The three of us walked on in silence.

He looked over to Sam and I, getting whatever was on his chest out, "Yeah, so with that kid back there..." he began, "why'd you two tell him to just ditch his family like that?"

Sam glanced to me. I raised a hand in defense, urging him to go on, "Just, uh...I know what the kid's goin' through."

"How 'bout tellin' him to respect his old man, how's that for advice?" Dean replied, testily. We all stopped. I shifted the box of bones, narrowing my eyes at him. I wasn't going to try to get into this one.

"Dean, come on." Sam spoke lightly, "This isn't about his old man. You think I didn't respect Dad. That's what this is about."

Dean looked from his brother to me, rethinking the argument, "Just forget it, alright? Sorry I brought it up." He said, sighing.

"I respected him. But no matter what I did," Sam sighed, shaking his head, "it was never good enough."

"So what are you sayin'?" Dean questioned, "That Dad was disappointed in you?"

A scoff left Sam, "_Was?_ Is." He stated, "Always has been."

I frowned, "Why would think that?"

Sam looked from his brother to me, "Because I didn't wanna bow hunt or hustle pool—because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which, to our whacked-out family, made me the freak. Even up against you."

I tilted my head, "Yeah, I have to admit Sammy, you were kind of like the blonde chick in The Munsters." I caught Dean's lip quirk up in an amused smile. Sam, however, didn't find it amusing.

"Dean, you know what most dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud." Sam continued, "Most dads don't toss their kids out of the house."

Dean nodded, "I remember that fight. In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases comin' out of _both_ of your mouths." He stated, staring directly at Sam and me. Sam casted a glance to me and I shrugged.

"Hey, you weren't the only one getting ready to be thrown out." I said in my defense, "I don't think I've ever seen Dad's face get that red."

Sam gaped, "What happened?"

I waved it off, "Long story. I'll tell ya some other time."

Sam nodded, casting his eyes down to the ground for a moment, "You know, truth is, when we finally do find Dad...I don't know if he's even gonna wanna see me."

Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, "Sam, Dad was never disappointed in you. _Never_."

"He was scared." I said.

Sam looked at the both of us, "What are you talkin' about?"

Dean frowned, "He was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around. That's why Abigail didn't leave when you did. And she was, let me tell you. _Ten_ different kinds of hell was raised that night." He forced himself to chuckle at the memory, earning a smirk from Sam. I knew Dean remembered that scene like it was yesterday. _I did_. It was nothing to laugh over either. "But even when you two weren't talkin'…" Dean added, "He used to swing by Stanford whenever he could."

Sam's smirk faded. I looked at Dean, shocked. I didn't know that.

Dean coughed, "Keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Yeah."

Guilt washed over Sam and I both, it seemed. Dean looked between us uncomfortable about the heart-to-heart. He shifted in his spot.

"Why didn't you tell me any of that?" Sam asked quietly. I swallowed the knot that had begun to form in my throat.

"Well, it's a two-way street, dude." Dean replied, "You could've picked up the phone."

Sadness clouded in Sam's eyes, he said nothing. It was true. A year after he left, he started to ignore my calls. Dean's. We both stopped trying after the sixth time it went to voicemail. I handed Sam the box of bone, patting his arm lightly.

"Go on in, so that we're not late for our appointment." I told him, "I'm gonna talk to Dean and we'll be in real quick."

Sam nodded, understanding what I was hinting around about. Taking the box from me, he continued in without us.

Turning to face Dean, my heart started to race. _Was this going to be a good time?_ Looking into his hazel eyes, I saw the question and wariness in them.

"You gonna chide me about that day too?" He asked curtly.

I shook my head, shoving my hands into my pockets; feeling the slender plastic stick that had determined our fate. This tiny thing in my pocket was either going to make or break what Dean and I had. Despite the fine misty rain coming down, I felt chilled to the bone. I gripped the stick tightly.

"Dean…" I slowly spoke, "You don't know how hard this is for me to tell you this…"

His brows furrowed, "What is it?"

I squeezed my eyes shut to prevent an onslaught of tears, "I-I'm, uh…I'm pregnant, Dean…"

An eerie silence had fallen between us. _Oh shit._ I couldn't look up.

_One heartbeat…Two heartbeats…Three heartbeats_.

"You're pregnant." Dean deadpanned.

I forced myself to open my eyes. Dean's face was paled by the news. His hazel eyes were wide with either shock or fear or some other kind of emotion. I was just counting down the moments I had left with him…

I watched in silence as his eyes slid from my face, down to my stomach, where the stayed. His chest heaved with every breath he took. The tip of tongue dabbed his bottom lip before receding back into his mouth, and his hands clenched over and over. I grew anxious, shifting in my spot. I didn't want him to blow up in front of God and everyone.

"I just needed you to know." I whispered, before turning on my heel and walked into the building without giving him time to react.

Inside the building, I met with Sam in the hallway giving him a mere nod that I had told Dean, not noticing that he wasn't far behind me. I swallowed hard, feeling fidgety since the news was finally out. Not knowing how or when Dean's cap was about to blow, Sam had placed himself between Dean and me shortly after the professor had welcomed us into his office.

Carrying the box of human remains in one arm, the professor placed his weight upon the cane, eyeing us in an attempt to place our faces, "So, you three are students?" He asked.

Sam nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, uh, we're in your class—Anthro 101?"

Like a light bulb had gone off, the professor nodded, "Oh, yeah."

"So, what about the bones, Professor?" Dean asked, keeping his eyes solely on the aging scholar.

"This is quite an interesting find you've made. I'd say they're 170 years old, give or take. The timeframe and the geography heavily suggest Native American." He replied, peering into the box.

"Were there—were there any tribes or reservations on that land?" I forced myself to ask, telling myself that I couldn't look at Dean. I had to focus on this, try to understand what this feeling was.

He shook his head, "Not according to the historical record. But the, uh, relocation of native peoples was quite common at that time." He informed us.

"Right. Well, are there any local legends? Oral histories about the area?" Sam pressed.

The professor rubbed his chin in deep thought, "Well…you know, there's a Euchee tribe in Sapulpa. It's about sixty miles from here." He nodded, "Someone out there might know the truth."

I assumed Dean nodded, "Alright." Came his response.

_Sapulpa—Diner_

The ride to Sapulpa had been rather…tense. Sam had spoken most of the trip, however, with Dean, he stayed quiet making an occasional grunt or two in acknowledgement that he was listening. Then it had come down to him stopping and asking a resident for directions. I watched in silence when he pointed out where to go, taking note of each place to look out for.

Dean had thanked him, pulling away.

The diner was quaint. Not a whole lot of business at the moment. A lone man sat off to himself, playing a game of Solitaire. We approached him, despite the curious looks from the waitresses.

"Joe White Tree?" Sam asks, allowing the man to look up at us, and nodded, "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's alright."

Dean faked a smile, "We're students from the university."

Joe White Tree shook his head at Dean, "No, you're not. You're lying."

Dean blinked at the man taken aback at how fast he was to detect his lie, "Well, truth is—,"

"You know who starts sentence with _truth is_?" Joe White Tree asked, "Liars."

Dean looked to Sam and I, irritated. I looked at Joe White Tree, "Have you heard of Oasis Plains?" I asked him, "It's a housing development near the Atoka Valley."

Wrinkles became evident around Joe's face as he smiled, "I like her," He said to Dean, "She's not a liar." The look Dean gave him could've vaporized him, had looks killed. Instead, Dean shoved his hands into his pockets with a loud sigh. Joe focused back to me, "Very special woman." He smiled at me, "I know the area."

Sam gave me an encouraging look to continue. "What can you tell us about the history there?" I asked.

"Why do you wanna know?" He asked, suddenly growing suspicious at my question. _Well, crap._

Sam then stepped in, "Something…something bad is happening in Oasis Plains." He explained, "We think it might have something to do with some old bones we found down there—Native American bones."

Joe leaned forward to us with a serious look clouding in his eyes, "I'll tell you what my grandfather told me, what his grandfather told him." He began, "Two hundred years ago, a band of my ancestors lived in that valley. One day, the American cavalry came to relocate them. They were resistant, the cavalry impatient. As my grandfather put it, on the night the moon and the sun share the sky as equals, the cavalry first raided our village. They murdered, _raped_. The next day, the cavalry came again, and the next, and the next. And on the sixth night, the cavalry came one last time. And by the time the sun rose, every man, woman, and child still in the village was _dead_." I couldn't help but cast a wary glance to Dean and Sam, "They say on the sixth night, as the chief of the village lay dying, he whispered to the heavens that no white man would ever tarnish this land again. Nature would rise up and protect the valley. And it would bring as many days of misery and death to the white man as the cavalry had brought upon his people."

"Insects." Dean murmured, "Sound like nature to me. Six days."

"And on the night of the sixth day, none would survive." Joe finished, going back to his cards like we weren't in his presence any longer. Looking over to Sam and Dean, they both looked apprehensive of what we just heard. Not only were we dealing with Native American _bones_, we were now dealing with a Native American _curse_. I shivered, feeling my stomach flop once again with anxiety.

_This couldn't be good on the baby._ I thought, biting my lip.

Walking back to the car, I started to recount the days we had been there. The only thing was, when did the first victim die?

"When did the gas company man die?" I asked aloud. Dean peered at me from the corner of his eye.

"Uh, let's see, we got here Tuesday, so, Friday the twentieth." He answered curtly.

"_March_ twentieth?" Sam asked, earning a nod from his brother, "That's the spring equinox."

"The night the sun and the moon share the sky as equals." Dean quoted from Joe White Tree's legend.

"So, every year about this time, anybody in Oasis Plains is in danger," I said as it dawned on me, "Larry built this neighborhood on cursed land."

"And on the sixth night—that's _tonight_." Dean said.

Sam shook his head, "If we don't do something, Larry's family will be dead by sunrise." He looked to me and Dean for an answer, eyes widening with concern, "So how do we break the curse?"

"You don't break a curse," Dean replied.

"You get out of its way," I added, "We've gotta get those people out _now_."

On the road, the sun had already begun to go down, thus the possibility of the sixth night of the curse to begin. Sitting in the backseat, I got fidgety again. We were all tensed at the thought of Larry's family perishing because of a curse. The best thing we could think of was to lure him and his family out of the house for at least the night, if not indefinitely.

Up front, Dean held his cellphone to his ear, eyes on the road as he talked to Larry, "Yes, Mr. Pike, there's a mainline gas leak in your neighborhood." He paused, listening to him, "Well, it's fairly extensive. I don't want to alarm you, but we need your family out of the vicinity for at least twelve hours or so, just to be safe."

Dean fell silent once again, though in the light of the dashboard, I saw his body tense from something Larry had asked, "Uh…" The slap of the cellphone signaled that Dean panicked, once getting caught.

With an unimpressed look, Sam held out his hand, "Give me the phone." Doing so, Sam dialed a number and put the cellphone to his ear, "Matt, it's Sam." He was cut off by Matt rambling on about something, "Matt, just listen. You have to get your family out of that house _right now_, okay?" He instructed, falling quiet as well, "Because something's coming."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, a lot more." He sighed, "You've gotta make him listen, okay?"

I frowned, leaning forward, "Give me the phone, Sam." Before Sam could do anything, I snatched it from him, sitting back. Sam looked at me, worried. "Matt, under _no_ circumstances are you to tell the truth, they'll just think you're nuts."

"_But he's my—,"_ Matt started to say.

"Tell him you have a sharp pain in your right side and you've gotta go to the hospital, _okay?_" I said interrupting him.

I heard him sigh, "_Yeah. Yeah, okay_." The phone cut off as I hung up as well, handing Dean the phone.

Dean scowled at Sam, "Make him listen? What are you thinkin'?" Sam shrugged sheepishly at him.

_Pike Residence—Night_

Pulling in front of Larry's house, Dean cursed upon seeing the lights in the Pike's house on.

"Damn it," He breathed out, "They're still here." Sam and I looked over, seeing Larry step out as Dean pulled the car into park, cutting the engine. He opened his door, "Come on."

We got out of the car, seeing Matt step outside behind his father, who looked less than thrilled to see us.

"Get off my property before I call the cops." Larry demanded.

"Mr. Pike, listen—," Sam tried to reason with the fuming man, only to be cut in mid-sentence by Matt.

Matt looked to his father, "Dad, they're just tryin' to help."

Larry glared at his son, "Get in the house!" He ordered.

Matt looked to us, guilt-ridden, "I'm sorry. I told him the truth."

I groaned, running my hand down my face, "We had a plan, Matt, what happened to the plan?"

Sam had glanced down at his watch, a grim expression appeared as he looked to Larry, "Look, it's 12:00 AM. They are coming any minute now. You need to get your family and go, before it's too late."

He scoffed at Sam, "Yeah, you mean before the biblical swarm." Sam scowled at him.

"Larry, what do you think _really_ happened to that realtor, huh? And the gas company guy? You don't think somethin' weird's goin' on here?" Dean quipped, growing irritable with Larry's sarcasm. I didn't blame him either. It was a typical reaction to us whenever we told a client about our job or what we do, and it got old quick.

"Look, I don't know who you three are, but you're all crazy." I frowned at the man, "You come near my boy or my family again, and we're gonna have a problem." Larry stated, a threat residing behind his words.

Dean scoffed, "Well, I hate to be a downer, but we've got a problem right now."

"Dad, they're right, okay? Okay?" Matt said in a light voice, trying to make his father understand, "We're in danger."

"Matt, get inside! Now!" Larry yelled at the boy, reaching for his arm to drag him into the house.

Matt jerked away in retaliation, "No! Why won't you listen to me?!"

"Because this is crazy! It doesn't make any sense!" Larry said.

From the irritated expression on Sam's face, his patience had run thin with Larry as well. "Look, this land is cursed! People have died here. Now, are you gonna really take that risk with your family?" He questioned Larry, looking at him incredulously.

Amongst all of the yelling and arguing between the three men and boy, I heard a loud buzzing off in the distance. It was faint at first, but with each passing second it had gotten louder. I waved my hand to silence everyone, "Wait." They all looked at me. I furrowed my brows, listening. "You guys hear it? Or am I goin' crazy?" I asked.

Dean and Sam listened as well, both staring at me, warily. They knew when something was up. The buzzing had gotten louder, much louder. It continued until there were several loud pops of the nearby fluorescent bug zapper as it began to overheat with insects.

Larry furrowed his brows, "What the hell?"

I felt Dean place his hand on the small of my back, urging me to head towards the Impala, "Alright, it's time to go," he instructed, "Larry, get your wife."

Matt had turned to go with us as well, however he had stopped in his place, gaping. "Guys." Matt said, pointing to the sky behind us. We all turned. Lo and behold, there were at least a million, if not more, bug swarming towards us in a black cloud. My stomach sank upon seeing the night sky get blocked out by the incoming swarm.

It I wasn't afraid in the least bit, then I was a liar. I was terrified.

"Oh my God." Larry uttered.

I shook my head in realization. "We'll never make it." I breathed out. Our chances of getting Larry and his family out and to the Impala in one piece, was slim.

"Everybody in the house. Everybody in the house, go!" Dean ordered, pushing Matt, Larry, and I towards the door. Sam helping as well. We all rushed inside the house, Dean slamming the door shut and locked it.

Sam turned to Larry once Dean had the door secured, "Okay, is there anybody else in the neighborhood?"

Larry shook his head, still trying to wrap his head around what is going on, "No, it's just us."

By this time, Joanie walked into the foyer, looking at us in surprise, "Honey, what's happening? What's that noise?"

"Call 911," Larry instructed. Joanie didn't budge, "_Joanie_!"

She jumped at the rise of his voice, "Okay." She then picked up a nearby telephone to dial.

"I need towels." Dean said, looking around.

"Uh, in the closet." Larry answered.

Sam and I nodded. He looked to Matt, "Okay, we've gotta lock this place up, come on—doors, windows, fireplace—,"

"Everythin', okay?" I cut in, seeing Matt bob his head in understanding. Sam, Matt, and I ran upstairs grabbing each and everything that looked like a towel or could be used as some form of blockade.

Upstairs, Matt and I had gone into one of the bedroom in search for anything that could be used. Pulling back the curtains to put a towel in the sill, I cringed upon seeing nothing but bugs covering the windows. A sliver of fear raced up my spine like ice and I shivered, backing away. It wasn't until we got into the hallway that the power went out.

"Sam!" I called out, "Where ya at?"

I felt Matt take my arm. "I'm coming." I heard him say from somewhere ahead of us. Matt and I stayed put with linens and towels in our arms. Sam approached us, taking my arm as well and led us back downstairs in time to hear Dean assume that the bugs had blanketed the house and chewed through the wires, rendering us stranded. The six of us stayed close to each other in a huddle watching; waiting.

The entire house was enveloped in a loud buzzing sound that seemed to leave an imprint in my mind—forever humming. I clutched the backs of both Dean and Sam's jackets in means of comfort, not really knowing what the outcome of this would be for us…and for the baby.

"So what do we do now?" Larry asked.

Sam shrugged, keeping his eyes and ears open, "We try to outlast it. Hopefully, the curse will end at sunrise."

"_Hopefully_?" He asked, emphasizing the word. Yeah, it didn't sound too convincing either, but hey, these two I'd trust my life with. I let go of Dean's arm when he took a step forward, heading into the kitchen. There, I heard him rummaging through cabinets, looking for something, then he returned holding a can of bug spray.

"Bug spray?" Joanie asked.

He smirked, "Trust me."

A creaking noise alerted us from the fireplace, like metal stressing under severe pressure. Matt's eyes went wide.

"What is that?" He asked.

"The flue." I replied, looking at the fireplace and above it. I had a bad feeling.

"Alright, I think everybody needs to get upstairs." Dean said. Suddenly the flue had given way to the pressure the insects where putting against it, hundreds of thousands of the creepy crawlies poured from the fireplace, swarming around us. Amongst the various shrieks and yells, I was one of them and I'm pretty sure I did most of the shrieking. Not saying this was one of my proudest moments, but this was definitely one of the moments I had tapped into my inner-squeamish girl.

Dean took the can of bug stray he found in the kitchen and sprayed into the flame of his zippo lighter, allowing a make-shift flamethrower arc in the living room to keep the swarm of insects at bay.

"Alright, everybody upstairs! Now!" Dean ordered when the swarm had backed off from the flame. Larry, Joanie, and Matt started up it first. Sam grabbed me by the arm, "Go, go, go!"

Making it to the attic, I joined Larry and his family when Dean brought up the rear, allowing Sam to close it and stuffed a towel under the bottom of the door. All of us was breathing hard. I was coming close to just finding a corner to throw up in, but managed to will it away. I sank into a crouch, running my hands through my hair, resting them on the back of my neck as I bowed my head, touching my forehead to my knees.

I took a deep breath. I needed to calm down.

_Eye of the Tiger_. I chanted quietly in my head. This wasn't just us anymore. There was a child—_children_—involved. People's lives were at stake.

We couldn't die here. Not by freaking bugs.

I felt someone put their hand on my shoulder. Looking up, I saw Dean staring at me. Slowly, I stood up to face him. He couldn't avoid talking to me or looking at me. If anything turned for the worst, things needed to be amended. Hazel orbs sparkled in what light we had when he gave me a quick onceover. A small tremor went through me and I nodded, signaling that I was alright.

He nodded in return, an expression of sincerity had maintained despite the situation. His eyes told me a different story, seeing various emotions like fear, worry, and protectiveness swirl amongst them. I understood every untold emotion in his eyes, only to return my understanding by reaching out with a trembling hand to touch his cheek.

Dean's eyes slid shut, leaning into my touch and reached a hand to grasp mine, squeezing it tightly in reassurance. Sam stood off to the side, watching in awe. In all of his twenty-three years of life, he never saw Dean react like this during a job. Things, however, were different. Both men wanted to protect the Pike's _and me_.

I wasn't a hunter this time, I was a victim.

My own petty fears had compromised myself during this job, so now my life—as well as Dean and I's unborn child's life—was on the line. And they knew it.

Dean moved his hand to my upper arm and pulled me into an embrace. "As long as I'm alive, Abigail, I'm going to do everything in my power to protect you and our child." He whispered, wrapping his arms around my waist tighter, "I'm going to protect Sammy and Larry and his family." Dean pulled away, cupping my face in his hands, "We're going to get out of this, _alive._"

I nodded, tears pricking my eyes. At that moment, relief had washed over me. The crushing weight that sat on my chest for the past two days since finding out that I was pregnant and finally telling Dean, had lifted off my shoulders. A fluttering sensation came to life in my stomach like it did when Dean and I first admitted our feelings for each other.

I loved this man more than life itself. I loved his brother like my own. For the both of them, I would walk to the ends of the Earth, march into the Gates of Hell, and protect them with my life. Knowing that I was going to be a mother, I would protect this child's life until I could no longer breathe. Seeing that Dean had a mutual standing just made that feeling stronger.

For that moment, I was alright. _We_ were alright.

Sawdust trails fell from the ceiling, breaking us out of the brief moment of calm. All sense of safety had gone, the angry droning of bees just outside had brought us all into reality that this wasn't over just yet. Dean stepped away from me, eyes to the ceiling.

"Oh, God, what's that?" Joanie whimpered out.

"Something's eating through the wood." Dean murmured.

"Termites." Matt replied.

Dean looked to Sam with a grim expression, though within that expression, his wheels were turning full force, "Alright, everybody get back! Get back, get back, get back!"

The Pike's and myself maneuvered ourselves as far into the corner of the attic as we could, eyes on the ceiling. _Waiting_. Seconds later, the dust ceased and bugs swarmed through and around the room. Sam and Dean raced around the attic trying to find things to patch up the hole in the ceiling. I looked around from where I was at, finding a piece of plywood.

"Guys!" I said, picking it up. Dean rushed over to me, taking it with a grateful look. Sam and Dean held it against the hole. More holes were being cut through, and more bugs swarmed in. Dean sprayed bug spray in an attempt to ward some of them off, rendering it useless. Both men had made their way back to where we stood, swatting away bugs left and right.

I closed my eyes, swatting away as well until it stopped. Cracking an eye, the bugs flew up out of the holes and left. The six of us stared at each other, bewildered at the sudden ceasefire of insects. Cautiously, Dean and Sam went to a hole, peering up at it as beams of sunlight hit their faces. I realized the sun had risen thus, ending the Native American curse. I slowly approached the hole as well, peering up at it and saw the swarm heading off, _somewhere_.

We all watched in relief, happy that we were alive.

_Later_

We found us a motel to get cleaned up in. Dean had made me sit in front of him while he picked out the bugs from my hair, while I had Sam sitting in front of me while I did the same. In truth, you'd think we looked like a troop of monkey's picking bugs off each other. In that case, we were.

I wanted to take a shaver and just shave my head bald to prevent from feeling so dirty, but, despite the amused laughs and snickers from both Dean and Sam, they talked me out of it. My entire view on bugs probably gotten worse. I didn't just dislike them, I now _loathed_ them.

I can't even look at a butterfly now without cringing.

A few hours had passed and we dropped by the Pike's house, only to see a moving van parked in the driveway, Larry placing a few boxes into the back.

"What, no goodbye?" Dean asked, smiling.

Larry looked up from what he was doing and smiled back at us, "Good timing," He climbed down from the back of the truck, "Another hour and we'd have been gone."

He shook Dean and Sam's hands, and I hugged him.

I stepped back, "For good?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yeah. The development's been put on hold while the government investigates those bones you found. But I'm gonna make damn sure no one lives here again."

"You don't seem too upset about it." Sam said.

Larry shrugged, "Well, this has been the biggest financial disaster of my career, but…" He trailed off, seeing Matt carrying a box to the garbage, "…somehow, I really don't care."

We shared a smile. Sam and I approached Matt while Dean spoke to Larry.

"What's this?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. Matt looked up from the garbage can where he threw his insect collection.

Matt's shoulders rose in a shrug, "I don't know." He replied, skewing his face in a distorted look of distaste, "They're kind of weird me out now."

Sam and I chuckled at Matt, who joined in. "Yeah, I should hope so." Sam said. I gave Matt a quick hug and peck on the cheek, and patted Sam on the arm before I started back to the Impala, where Dean was waiting.

Leaning against the quarter panel, I didn't look at Dean. Instead, I kept my eyes forward, watching Sam talk to Matt. They had a great connection, relating to similar events. A soft smile played at my lips, feeling a pair of eyes on me.

I knew Dean had to be looking at me. "So…this, uh, _pregnancy_." I heard him say slowly, testing the word out.

"Yeah." I said, pulling my bottom lip in to chew on it, "It's for sure, before you ask." I pulled out the stick, offering it to him. Dean took it, staring down at the little screen that had a plus sign with a frown. I had the evidence to back it up.

Peering at him from the corner of my eye, I saw him tap the test against his palm, "How long have you known?" he asked.

I peered down at the asphalt, "Two days. Though, I had my suspicions—," I tilted my head recanting my statement, "—_Sam_, had his suspicions since St. Louis."

Dean went silent, doing the math, "That's been a month ago, Abigail."

I nodded, "Yeah, I know."

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" His voice rose slightly in a renewed wave of anger.

I looked over to him with narrowed eyes, "Because I was _afraid_, Dean. I was _scared_. I _am_ scared." I clenched my jaw, "What do you _expect_ me to do when a monster tells you you're knocked up? Do you believe them right off the bat, or do you go into denial?"

Dean averted his gaze to the ground, the muscle in his jaw ticking. I knew he was wanting to say something in retaliation, instead he slowly nodded. "Abigail, we could've figured something out sooner."

"Like _what_, Dean?" I asked. My heart clenched painfully at the thought of what I was about to say. "_Abortion_?"

He jerked his head up, wide eyed, "_No_! For _God's_ sake, no." I watched him run his hand through his short hair, "I mean, so we could figure out what to do. If you'd just say something to me—" Dean shook his head, "—I would've kept you near me and Sammy back in Ankeny. You would've _never_ been hurt like you did."

"I know." I said. "What are we going to do? I mean, what's going to happen whenever we find Dad and he finds out?"

The sound of footsteps approaching us caused Dean to shove the pregnancy test he had in his hand into his jacket pocket, and looked, seeing Sam approach us and leaned against the Impala with us, watching as Larry and Matt converse. They looked like they were getting along very well since last night.

"I wanna find Dad," Sam said suddenly.

Dean and I shared a glance. "Yeah, me too." Dean replied.

"Yeah, but I just…" Sam sighed, "I want to apologize to him."

Dean arched a brow, "For what?"

"All the things I said to him." He explained, "He was just doin' the best he could."

I smiled, putting a hand on his arm, "Well, don't worry, we'll find him." He smiled softly at me, "And then you'll apologize. And then within five minutes of that, you guys will be at each other's throats." I shrugged, "And then Dean and me will be next in line for an ass-kickin'."

Dean squirmed beside me at the thought causing Sam to laugh. He nodded, "Yeah, probably." We all sat in silence for a moment. "Let's hit the road."

Dean nodded, wanting to get a move on, "Let's." I laughed, opening the backdoor and slid in, only to have the door caught by Dean. "Oh, no sugar-pie. You're up here with me."

With a shake of my head, I got back out, letting Sam slide into the backseat as I rounded the Impala to the passenger side to get in. The three of us gave Larry and Matt one final wave before piling in and drove away.

* * *

**A/N: Hey everyone! So chapter ten's out and Abigail's secret is revealed! What did you guys think about it? In truth, I have had ****_so_**** many ideas with Dean's reaction, but they didn't quite cooperate with how ****_Bugs_**** went story-wise, so I did what I thought he would do. I also think that I could've written it better, but I want your guys' opinions and suggestions as to how I should rewrite it!**

* * *

**Also, I have a serious question to ask of you guys...Should I keep the next chapter canon like it should be, or should I do a filler chapter going into Dean and Abigail's past/A day at Charlie's/Past Jobs/etc...? I also would like to know how often should I put smut in a chapter; should I put a scene in once every other chapter, two, three...? I understand some readers aren't into it, so please tell me! I got some great ideas and scenes playing in my head!**

* * *

**As I have said before in previous chapters, please know that I am always open for new ideas, plots, schemes, tidbits of shows/movies that you'd like to see in this fanfic! All you gotta do is put it in your review and/or private message me! I am more than willing to talk it out with you! **

* * *

**And Oh my word, I have some major plot-bunniage going on in my head for future chapters! I ****_just _****got to Season 8 and good lord! I can't decide if I want Abigail to join Dean and Cas in Purgatory or not! There are so many ideas! And I know there will be more ideas running through my skull once I get to Seasons 3, 4, 5, and 6! (If I make it that far first!)**

* * *

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**Anyways, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles! 3**


	12. Home

_March 28__th__, 2006_

_Motel-Night_

The euphoric feeling that we all had of surviving the Native American curse had worn off… our jesting and joke telling had ended. About seven or eight hours (and numerous puke stops) into the drive, we all decided that the first motel we saw on the long stretch of desolate highway was the one we were crashing at. Thankfully, the wait wasn't too long, because we drove into a small backwoods town with a handful of houses, a bar, a grocery store, and a motel. Ironic enough, the bar was straight across the street from the motel.

_Talkin' bout some cheap thrills_, I sung wryly in my mind when Dean wordlessly got out of the car and into the office to the motel. Sam, who had stayed behind with me, leaned forward in the back seat, taking the opportunity to speak, "What's Dean's problem?"

I twisted around in my seat, shrugging at my brother, "Sam, I don't have the slightest clue."

The first chords of _Jaded_ came across the radio when Dean had returned with two extra keys to the room in his hand. Getting in, Dean handed one to me and Sam, "Got us a room with two queens. Room 108." He said, pulling the shifter into 'reverse'. There was something about the way Dean was acting that didn't sit well in my chest.

"Are you alright?" I asked quietly, earning a look from Dean. His face was straight, acting like nothing in the world didn't bother him, but in the shadows, I couldn't see his eyes. They gave him away so easily.

There was a moment of silence as he worked his jaw in an odd fashion. "Yeah, peachy." Dean replied curtly, pushing the shifter into 'drive'. I blinked in surprise at how curt he was being. The roar of the engine to the Impala cut off after we pulled into a parking space in front of our motel room. The three of us sat in total silence.

Dean sat rigidly in his seat, having a white-knuckle hold on the steering wheel. Something he had been stewing on for the past seven or eight hours had long since sent him into a quiet state. Sam and I had exchanged a furtive glance, taking note that Dean's posture was uncharacteristically stiff.

Then, there we were, sitting in an awkward silence until Sam had cleared his throat, "So, uh, what are you guys going to do now since…?" He inquired, trailing off the end of his sentence. From beside me, Dean casted a steely glance to me then up to the rearview mirror where he could see Sam.

"We'll figure it out when we get there." Dean replied with indifference, returning his gaze to the motel doors. With furrowed brows, I gently reached out, placing a hand on his extended arm. Shadowed green eyes looked at me with no visible emotion. The right side of his face had sunken in, his jaw was askew to the left upon accommodating his sunken in cheek. It was something that I had picked up about him since living with the Winchesters. He was bothered about something… and I had a pretty good idea what it was over.

Hurt, I retracted my hand from his arm. I dropped eye contact with him before reaching for the door handle to the car, stepping out. Sam was the second to step out, looking at me with a pinched expression. We both knew that Dean had turned into a ticking time bomb on a subject that apparently had been transformed into a touchy one at that.

"I'll help you get the bags," He told me quietly, casting another glance to his brother, who was still sitting in the driver's seat. Nodding, I opened the rear passenger door, grabbing my duffle bag while Sam had grabbed Dean's and his, walking me to the door where I inserted the key and twisted, pushing the door open to the dark room with my foot.

We walked in, taking in the room's appearance when I flipped the light switch. The room wasn't cramped, it was in fact, spacious. Two queen sized beds sat parallel with each other, a nightstand positioned in between them with a custom lamp. The carpet was a god awful burgundy color, however. I tossed my bag on the bed closest to the bathroom, knowing how queasy I already was.

Sam didn't complain either. Quietly, he just placed Dean's beside mine and set his bag on the bed nearest to the door, where he stood, head bowed.

I frowned, wrapping my arms around myself and turned to him, "You don't think Dean's mad at me for being pregnant do you?" I asked.

Sam's shaggy head turned to look at me with wide eyes, "No." He said firmly, "Why would he be mad? You saw how he was acting back in Oasis Plains, he looked happy."

I cast my eyes down to the burgundy carpet with a distasteful look, "Yeah… _looked._ There's a big difference between _being_ happy and _looking_ happy. Queen of facades here." I said, pointing a finger at myself. Sure, I just gave away a major detail about my coping mechanisms, but I knew when something was up… give or take it was the maternal instincts kicking in. Sam looked at me with his usual puppy dog look sympathetically, "I just can't help but think he doesn't want _this."_ I muttered, feeling the stinging pricks of tears, taking my arms and motioned down my stomach _and me_, in general.

Sam crossed the space between the beds and hugged me, pulling me against his ginormous body as a means of comfort. He was clearly bothered by the fact that I was still reeling from the fact that I was pregnant and beyond scared that I was going to lose Dean. I wrapped my arms around his waist, leaning my forehead against his sternum where my shoulders began to shake from silent sobs. Sam slowly brought a hand to my back and rubbed where he kept a span of the top of my shoulders to the beginning of my waist.

"He's going to leave me, isn't he, Sammy?" I whispered out between breaths.

Sam shook his head defiantly, "No, Abigail. Look at me," he stated as I slowly peeked up at him through tear soaked lashes. I hated crying. I felt so weak, "Dean isn't going to leave you. Like I said, you and him have been through a lot. You guys will work through this, okay?"

I swallowed down another lump in my throat and merely nodded at him, "Yeah…" He brought his hands up to my face where he wiped away my tears, planting a brotherly kiss to the top of my head, "I'm sorry, Sammy."

"About what? _Crying_?" He asked with a dismissive laugh. I nodded again, "Abigail, you're only human. And pregnant," he added with a playful grin, "So I guess I can let you get by with that." I looked up at him with a sad look, though, a tiny smile had broken through the barriers and I giggled softly. Sam smiled at his small victory at making me smile and feel better, "I'm going to go get Dean, alright?" He stepped back, giving me a soft smile and turned, heading out the door.

There was this undeniable sinking feeling that those two were going to have it out. I frowned, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear before I turned around, eyeing the room again. Another night, another cheap motel room that we could afford. My shoulders lifted in a mild shrug. It was better than sleeping in the Impala that was for sure, and the four-door sedan wasn't bathroom friendly either, at least, not anymore. My bladder felt like it was the size of a pea since becoming pregnant.

I flopped down onto the edge of the bed, clasping my hands together and waited. How bad was Sam's confrontation to Dean going to be? How bad was Dean going to react? He was definitely the kind of person to hold in his emotions and lash out at the nearest viable thing that he could set his sights on. That viable thing? _Sam_.

Sadly, I looked down at my still-flat stomach and placed a hand on it, "If it makes a difference, you still have me." I murmured, rubbing what I thought was a bump, but it could've been from me slouching. It didn't matter, "I guess if your ass of a dad doesn't want us, we'll just leave it at that."

I blinked away tears. A part of me couldn't believe that I was already jumping to conclusions. _I _couldn't hardly believe myself. In the span of a month and a half, I have went from a level-headed, fierce hunter that could pave down droves of monsters into an emotionally wrecked, pregnant woman. So far, I had four pity parties under my belt; one over finding out I was pregnant, twice over thinking Dean was going to leave me…that was debatable for the time being, and the last one over thinking I was going to die by bugs.

I leaned forward with a frustrated sigh, running both hands through my hair and pulled it, close to my scalp. _I needed to get a grip!_ Pregnant or not, had John been in our presence, I would've had to suck it up, regardless how emotional I had become. _Dear God, am I really that leery of him?_ I wasn't leery of my father when he was alive. I frowned, placing a hand gingerly on the back of my neck...

A series of yelling alerted me from outside. Getting up from the bed, I slowly approached the window and pulled the curtain back a hair, seeing that it was Sam and Dean. My brows knit together upon seeing Sam towering over his older brother, fists clenched and jaw set as if he were getting ready to waylay him. Dean glared daggers at his younger brother, then collided his hand down onto the hood of the Impala with great force. I flinched from the abrupt noise as if I were out there with them.

"I'm not having this conversation, Sam!" I heard Dean yell out to Sam.

I heard Sam give him a sarcastic scoff, "Jesus, Dean. Abigail is scared out of her_ mind_ and she _needs _you!" He threw an arm out in the direction of the motel room, causing me to shy away from the window in case Dean was to look in my direction.

I heard another scoff, but this time from Dean as I peered out of the window again, "You think I'm _not?_" Dean bellowed out, jabbing a finger into the hood of the Impala. "Let me tell you, I can't be a father, Sammy. I don't have it in me." Dean slapped his hands against his chest, "You don't have something like that just _dropped_ on you and then not have any freaking explanation about it! Look at me, man! I have never _once_ kept a relationship this long in my life to even _save _it, let alone have a _kid_!"

Dean's chest heaved when he took another breath, "Dad raised us to hunt things; _kill_ things. It's what I am, Sammy! A _killer._" I watched on with tear filled eyes as Dean stared his brother down, "And we both know that ain't gonna change anytime soon!" He took another breath, but this time, it was much slower, more pained like he had regained his composure, but defeated. "I didn't ask for this."

Tears fell freely down my face. Holding my hand on my throat, I felt like I had been punched in the gut, but more or less, betrayed. _That_ was all I needed to hear. Those five words, and it was like the levee had broken. I had slammed the door open to the motel room, causing both men to jump. Before any of them could think or react, I was up in Dean's face and placed all of my strength into my arms, shoving the six foot one inch man backwards. He stumbled back looking at me, utterly bewildered.

"How _dare _you!" I yelled out, tears falling freely, "_You_ didn't ask for this?!"

Dean's face paled, realizing that I had heard everything they said, more like yelled, as his bewildered expression, crumpled into a wounded gaze, "Abigail, let explain. I—"

I shoved him again, "I don't give a rat's ass _what_ you want to explain, Dean Winchester!" He stumbled back another few inches, bringing his head down in shame, "You didn't want this?!" I repeated, "What makes you think that this has to be about _you_?! I'm carrying your _child, _Dean! _I_ didn't ask for this either!"

"Abigail—," Dean tried to speak once again.

"Shut up!" I spat out, staring him down with the ferocity of a thousand suns, "I don't want to hear your fuckin' excuses!" Dean didn't say anything, "What makes you think I'm ready to be a mother? What _grounds_ do you believe that I have the capabilities of bein' one? If you don't _remember_, I was _raised_ from _birth_ as a hunter! What does that make me? A killer, too!" My body shook with anger and betrayal, noticing that Sam was standing off to the side, stunned at how relentless I was being. "Humor me, Dean. _Lie_ to me! Give me the benefit of the doubt that you actually have some form of feelings for me, like you gave every other girl you dated before us!"

His head shot up, a betrayed look residing in his eyes, "I never once lied to you, Abigail, nor did I _ever_ give you the benefit of the doubt on _anything._"

I scoffed in a sarcastic manner, extending my arm out and let it slap my thigh. "Oh, that's fuckin' grand. _Thank you_, I appreciate it." I took another deep breath, ready to fire off another round. "And you're _absolutely_ right, Dean. You didn't ask for this. Hell, you don't even have to be with me. 's not like I'm holdin' a fuckin' pistol to your head and _makin'_ ya stay!" I stated with a clenched jaw, staring into those hazel eyes of his. My hands clenched and unclenched, allowing my nails to dig into my palms deeper and deeper until blood was oozing out. Dean took a step toward me and I took a step back, raising a hand in a gesture to stop him, "Don't. Touch. Me, Dean. Just, don't."

Halting, I could see the conflict and hurt within his eyes, "Abigail…"

"Don't." I said in a low voice, then pointed to the bar, "Go. You might as well, because I have _no_ use in lookin' at you, _coward_." Dean flinched at my words as if I had slapped him. He looked down at the asphalt, face contorted with shame.

"Abigail," Sam stepped in, "You're being a little harsh, don't you think?"

I snapped my head in his direction to start in on him as well, only to have Dean cut in, "No, Sam. I-I deserve it…" He sighed, "She's right." Giving us both a wounded look, Dean turned on the heel of his boot and stalked off across the street, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. I glared at the back of Dean's head until he entered the establishment, knowing that I wouldn't go after him.

Sam looked after Dean, then looked to me with a conflicted expression. I stood firmly planted in my place, and looked down at my hands upon feeling the stinging sensation. A thin sheen of blood coated my nails and palms. Instantly, I had regretted everything I had ever done and said to Dean. Moments passed in silence, aside from the muffled music playing from within the bar.

I cleared my throat, staring at my bleeding hands before I peered up at Sam, guilty. "You, uh…You should go with him…" I said lightly, earning a look of bewilderment from my sudden change of heart.

Sam frowned, "Abigail, I can't say that I blame you for saying what you said, but, you were _too_ harsh on him. Granted, my brother is an ass and it's nice to see him put in his place, but…" I couldn't look at Sam, but from the penetrating stare I could sense that he wasn't pleased. "—a coward?" He asked, "_Really_, Abigail?"

I nodded, staring down to the pavement, "Yeah, I know."

Sam was quiet for a moment, "He cares about you more than anything."

I nodded, wiping away the new onslaught of tears, "I know, Sammy." I replied, hearing my voice crack from emotion, "…Just check on him so he doesn't drink himself into a coma."

"I think that's what he's wanting to do," Sam replied honestly, "We'll be back later." With a final nod, I watched Sam jog across the street after his brother before I turned and went back into the motel room where I closed the door and slid to the ground, covering my mouth with my hands as a sob tore through my throat. Drawing my knees up, I leaned my forehead against it and let everything go.

After everything that has happened in the span of fifteen minutes, I wasn't even sure if I should stay here anymore. Not because I knew we would be okay sometime tomorrow or the next day, but because it was the only thing that had felt right to me right now. I slid my hands from my face down to my stomach where I held it protectively and cried more. It felt like my heart had been torn out from my chest, went through a series of rigorous tasks in which it failed each one, and then shoved back into my chest. I slowly slid into the floor, curling up into a ball, still crying. This one was all on me. This whole pregnancy was all on me. Dean wasn't the only to blame, because I had partaken in that activity as well.

_We_ should've been more careful.

_I'm gonna leave tonight._ I thought, seeing my conscience nodding back at me with an adamant expression on her face. _I'm gonna leave tonight… I'm gonna leave tonight…I'm gonna…leave…_

_Thick smoke hung in the air as heat rolled over my body in massive waves. Glowing embers leapt and twirled in a fiery dance amongst the hot, swirling air as flames licked up what seemed to have been the remains of a house. If it was one thing that hung in the air that I knew of, the evident stench of sulfur assailed my nostrils. Covering my nose with the sleeve of my jacket, I looked around, twisting my body to try and assess where I was at. There was nothing, just mountains that surrounded me from all sides while the smoke blocked out the night sky. My lips formed a tight line._

This couldn't be good_. "Dean?" I called out, looking for some form of human contact, "Sammy?" I willed my legs to move amongst the fiery debris of the house, "Guys, answer me!" I called out again, feeling my heart rate rise within my chest out of the uneasy feeling I had risen within me as well. Suppressing a shiver, my stomach flopped with vomit-inducing tenacity upon smelling the sulfuric stench that hung still. This feeling I had wedged within me was the worst I've felt in a long time._

_I dug my fingers into my side with a great amount of pressure as means of a false sense of comfort and protection for both myself and my unborn child. Pressing on, the audible crunching of the ground and shattered glass underneath my boots had been the only thing making a noise aside from the crackling of the blaze from behind me. It was utterly silent where I was. There wasn't a cricket, an owl, or corporeal thing making a sound. To me, this was the type of silence that had an underlying warning within it. _

_To try and explain it movie-wise would have to be the moment right before the dumb blonde chick gets a machete to the head… in this case, I was the dumb (and pregnant) blonde chick getting ready to get ganked by some unseen force. _

"_Dean! Sam!" I yelled out, "C'mon, guys." My eyes flitted to sketchy areas as I reached behind me for my gun… much to my chagrin, it wasn't there. I cringed at the realization that I was unarmed. _Definitely not good. _I thought as this overwhelming sense of dread crept over me like an icy chill as it flowed through my veins, spreading throughout like a cold, seething wildfire, feeling small tremors rack my body as well upon hearing a soft voice in my head saying; _something is close_._

_Well, to be honest, it started out with one. Then two, and even three voices before it began to multiply into hundreds of thousands of whispering. I looked around wildly, searching for the source of the overbearing whispering, realizing that it was just me, myself, and I. I was going crazy. _

Run!_ One of the voices whispered harshly._

He's going to find you! _Another said. The warnings were endless until the whispers had turned into full blown screams. I sank into the ground, holding my head in pain. This was beginning to be too much! Through gritted teeth, shoved my hands over my ears in a futile attempt to muffle. Looking ahead of me, I saw the silhouettes of five figures ranging from small, childlike statures, to full-grown adults. The first thought that had come to my mind was my family._

_Through the warm glow of the fire, I could barely make out the figures' visage, feeling the stinging sensation of tears in my eyes. I was right, it was my family._

"_Mom! Dad!" I choked out over the constant screams in my head, "Help me!" I reached out, tears falling down my face as they turned their backs on me. A sob ripped through my throat and escaped, my shoulders heaving as a gust of wind rushed through, watching my family dissipate into clouds of dust. _

You turned your back on us! _Another voice would screech out._

_Out of the medley of screaming and whispering, one voice had stood out to me. It was calm, soothing, and kind. The only thing I could hear from it was; _have faith, Abigail_._

I jolted awake as I slowly rose up from the floor, breathing hard from the dream. Looking around wildly, I realized that I had fallen asleep in front of the door and I was alone. I remember that neither of them had returned from the bar where Dean had slunk off to upon getting an ass-chewing from me and Sam following him in.

Guilt ridden, my bottom lip puckered out and angry tears burst forth, sliding down my face as they dripped steadily onto my jacket. I leaned forward, putting my face in my hands where I began to sob. It was like the wall to the fortress I had built within me had come tumbling down. The dam inside me had burst upon the destruction of the fortress, allowing emotions that I had held in for so long, escape in this brief moment of pregnancy hormone-induced, chick-flick moment with myself.

_Bar—Night_

_Dean's Point of View_

_Third shot down_. I grimaced at the burn of the whiskey as it slid down the back of my throat. Still nothing. Frowning, I signaled the bartender, "Another triple shot." I said, earning a hesitant look from him. Complying, he set out three more shot glasses and poured each one full of _Jack Daniels_. Not my piece of pie, but whatever.

I reached out, picking up the shot glass and lifted it up in a small salute to the bartender before I downed it. When he left, I set it down, bottom up and heard a stool scoot out from beside me. I glanced over, then silently swore. It was Sammy. "'lo Sammy. Come to kick me down some more?" I asked.

Another bartender arrived, "Just a beer." Sam said, turning his attention to me, "Uh, actually no. I came to talk." I rolled my eyes at my brother, picking up the second shot and downed it as well, getting ready to pick up the third. I caught Sam's brows rising in awe. "How many have you had, Dean?"

I had to think for a moment on that one. _Hm, maybe I was getting drunk after all_. "Five." I replied, then downed the third and final shot. "Six." I looked over lazily at Sam, "What does it matter to you?"

Sam nodded in thanks at the bartender as he arrived with a bottle of _Bud Light_, "Just making sure you don't drink yourself into a coma."

I smirked at him, "Yeah. Like I'm going to do _that_, Sammy." I tilted my head, taking it into consideration, "Though, it does sound like a wonderful plan."

From beside me, Sam shifted in his seat, "Dean, listen…what Abigail said," I heard him sigh, "She didn't mean it."

"Look, Sam. I appreciate you're concerned about my feelings, but cut the chick-flick crap. I can assure you, I'm fine." I said, pursing my lips. _That's an understatement_.

He rolled his eyes at me in a disbelieving manner. "Whatever you say, Dean." Sam picked up the bottle of beer and took a long swallow as if he needed it, setting it down. He watched with his lips pressed in a thin line as I ordered another round of shots.

"Another thought, just give me the bottle and a glass," I said, handing the bartender a wad of cash. Nodding, the bartender handed me a three ounce glass and set the bottle in front of me with the amber liquid sloshing around inside in a teasing manner. I smirked at it, knowing it was going to be me or the bottle that wins tonight. Taking the bottle, I poured the whiskey till it filled up the bottom of the glass and brought it up to my lips.

"You're hitting it pretty hard, Dean." Sam commented.

I paused, narrowing my eyes at him and pulled the glass away from my face, "Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious." I downed the glass in one gulp, and shivered, "_God damn_…" A warm, euphoric feeling washed over me upon a tingling sensation beginning in my feet and face. I scrubbed a hand over my face to shoo it away, only to have it return. Reaching for the bottle, Sam snatched it away before I could get it, "Dude, what the hell?" I growled out, glaring at him.

"Talk." Sam said pointedly, "Or else."

"Or else what." I challenged, "You're not gonna get a thing out of me."

Sam stood up from his seat, bottle in tow. I watched, careening my body around, "Talk or I throw away the half-empty bottle you paid too much for."

I threw my head back and groaned, "Sam, don't be like that, man. Give me back the bottle, besides, I like to think of it half-full."

Sam's shaggy head shook 'no', "Not until you talk."

I slapped my leg in protest, "Really?"

He tilted his head, "Okay." He turned, walking a couple of feet. I eyed the amber liquid sloshing around.

With a groan, I jumped up going after my brother. I grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him around, "Okay, okay. _Fine,_ Dr. Phil. Just give me back the bottle." I stated. Sam smirked until I snatched the bottle from his hand and returned to my spot at the bar. Sam sidled into the seat he sat in, looking at me intently.

"Well?"

I poured the glass halfway full this time, "Keep your panties on, Samantha." I muttered, setting the bottle down out of his reach. I took another long gulp of the liquor and a defeated sigh passed through my lips, "I'm scared shitless, man. It's like, I'm backed up into a corner." Sam fell silent, taking another swallow of beer, "With Dad still missing. Now, _this_." I shook my head, "Sammy, I don't know what to do. I'm not exactly father material and we didn't exactly have the best role model growin' up."

"You're not Dad, Dean." Sam replied softly, "I mean, I know this isn't exactly the perfect environment for a child, but, we always have Charlie's to go to, you know, for stability. He's got the room."

True. Sam _did _have a point. "Yeah, but his old woman's getting ready to pop one out in less than two months." I responded as I poured another glass, "Pretty sure they want their privacy."

"You know they won't mind," Sam argued, "With Abigail being Charlie's only living family left, he's not going to say no." By now he ordered another beer, "Besides, that place is like Fort Knox. The baby will be safe and under constant supervision. That way, the three of us can take turns and stay behind on a job every now and then, and we also have a roof over our heads."

I fell silent, taking everything into consideration. Granted, I liked the guy and his old woman. Albeit, that place _was_ like Fort Knox, but so was Abigail's old place and look where it's gotten her. I frowned, swirling the rest of the whiskey in my glass.

"On the bright side, you don't have to quit hunting. We can still search for Dad. And even when you do go on jobs, you have a family to come home to." Sam continued, drawing me out of my thoughts when he nudged me, smiling, "I must say, man. I'm jealous."

I blinked, looking over at my brother, "You really think we could pull something like this off? Searching for Dad and all this baby stuff?" I asked.

Sam nodded with sincerity in his eyes, "Hell yeah, I do." When he saw the vulnerable expression on my face, he put a hand on my shoulder, "You're not Dad." He repeated, "You have Abigail and you still have me. You're not alone in this and Abigail isn't."

I stared down into the glass at the mention of Abigail's name, a vice like grip surrounded my chest. "Yeah, well, Abigail probably doesn't want a thing to do with me for right now."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean. I've seen you and her hash it out for days at a time. Trust me, you two will be okay."

I glanced at him, unsure.

"You love her don't you?" He asked me.

"More than you'll ever know, Sammy." I muttered, staring at the glass of whiskey with a frown.

Sam grinned at me, "Then you guys will be okay. Everything will fine."

"I hope so, Sam." I replied, "I hope so."

_Motel Room—Night_

_Abigail's Point of View_

I must've sat cross-legged for thirty minutes just blubbering like a child, until I laid back down in the cold floor and curled into the fetal position, hugging my midsection. Dean's words had just replayed in my mind furthering my sobbing, and I just couldn't stop until I started gagging. Practically tripping over my own feet as I forced myself into the bathroom where I sat in front of the toilet and threw up vehemently.

Too tired to get up and clean myself off, I reached over for a towel where I rolled it up and placed it on the edge of the toilet bowl where I placed my forehead against it. More tears were running freely down my face by this time and I frowned. Whoever had deemed this morning sickness had to have been a man, and they severely understated it. From the time I had begun gagging back in St. Louis, to full blown blowing chunks in Ankeny and Oasis Plains, the term _morning sickness_ wasn't just cutting it.

I heard the low vibrating sound of my cell phone in my jacket pocket, then heard Johnny Cash's _I Walk the Line_ start playing. It was Dean. My heart clenched painfully and I remained in my spot on the floor, not bothering to reach into my pocket. Finally, it stopped playing. I let out a sigh of relief, allowing my eyes to slide shut in a brief moment of calm.

It wasn't long before my phone started to buzz to life again, this time, Papa Roach's _Scars_ began blaring in the bathroom. It was Sam. I groaned, digging into my jacket pocket. I flipped it open and sighed, "What Sam?" I croaked out.

'_Hey, Abigail, Dean—wait, have you been crying?_' I rolled my eyes, wiping away stray tears from my face and sniffled. In the background, I heard Dean say, _Give me the phone!_ I rolled my eyes at his voice. He sounded about half drunk, if not borderline shitfaced.

"No." I lied, "Been puking my guts out."

Sam sighed, "_Abigail, Dean wants to talk to you_."

I sighed, "No, Sam. I don't want to talk."

Sam let out a sigh, "_She said she didn't want to talk_." I managed to smile a little at him until I heard Dean say something and heard Sam yelp out. With a frown, I realized that Dean smacked him or something, taking his phone.

"_Abs, I'm_—," Dean tried to say quickly until I snapped my phone shut.

"Sorry, my ass." I replied with bitterness, tossing it haphazardly across the room where I muttered silent curses to Dean's name. Yes, I felt bad about what I had said. Yes, I wanted to talk to him, apologize for being a shitty, pregnant girlfriend. But no, I'd be damned to let it go this soon. Slowly, I got up pushing the lever down on the toilet and flushed it before I went over to the sink and the large mirror where I leaned over to run my hands over my face.

My stomach flipped dangerously as I did so, causing me to narrow my eyes down at my still-flat stomach, "I don't know what your problem has been for the past month, but I want you to stop." I spoke miserably, knowing that the small thing growing inside of me couldn't possibly hear me. Pushing my ratty, blonde hair out of my face, I looked at myself in the mirror.

Bloodshot, bluish-green eyes stared back at me. They looked so puffy from the constant crying, and the usual sun-kissed skin was a sickish pale. In all honesty, I looked horrible. My looks definitely matched how I felt, too. I turned the faucet on to splash cool water on my face, then grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and scrubbed my teeth as hard as I could to rid my mouth the taste of bile. It was God awful.

Spitting, I straightened up, turning off the faucet and tossed my toothbrush and toothpaste into my duffle before I climbed into bed where I peeled my jacket off and let it fall to the floor. I must've laid in bed staring up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours.

_A shuffling noise alerted me where I shot up in bed, hand on my handgun. In the corner of the motel room, my heart sank upon seeing a pair of illuminated yellow-eyes stared back at me. The demon stepped out into the glare of the television where I could fully see him, before the façade of his host dissipated, revealing the creature inside. _

"_Howdy Abigail," The demon said, taking a few steps towards me, "How about we take a little walk?"_

_My breath hitched in my throat, "No." I forced myself to say._

_Yellowed teeth flashed in a wicked grin, "Too late, angel." The chilled night air forced a shiver to rack through my body. I looked around, realizing we were outside of the motel, not a soul in sight. The cold ground beneath my bare feet chilled me even more, watching the creature walk ahead of me a few feet, "You're awfully quiet, Abby," he stopped, looking over his shoulder at me with a cynical smile, "You're not mad at me, are you?"_

Breathe, Abigail._ I thought. Inhaling, I almost gagged from the putrid stench of sulfur, "Dean and Sam will find you and hunt you down." I hissed._

"_When you wake up, sweetheart, you tell them to give me their best shot." He responded, throwing a dismissive hand at my comment. I blinked, stunned at how… self-assured and smug this bastard was. Slowly, I started to follow the creature, "You've been a busy girl, Abby." The demon said suddenly._

_Again, I halted. Frozen in shock, "How'd you-?" I stuttered out._

"_I can smell it," He replied, "Let's get down to business, shall we?" The demon flicked his hand, freezing my movements when he turned around to face me. Gravel kicked out from under his boots, "Here's the thing, _you've_ just made my job a little harder than what it should be." I frowned, watching him pace._

"_What's this got to do with me?" I said._

_The demon pulled his lips into a sneer, those yellow eyes of his bored holes into me, "It's not _you_ entirely, Abigail," he admitted, "It's what's inside of you."_

_My heart sank into my stomach at his words, "My—my baby?" I breathed out, willing my hands to move over my stomach protectively, "Why?"_

"_Ah, I just can't come out and tell you, Abigail," The demon said, wagging his forefinger at me, "But I will tell you that, if this _abomination_ that is within you is born? I will unleash fears that you will never begin to comprehend if my plans are ruined."_

_I felt like I was going to pass out. I had to stay strong in front of this bastard. "You son of a bitch." _

"_You see, Abigail, I have _many_ things in store for little Sammy, and if this child is born," The demon frowned, "It will ruin everything, resulting in me having to start back from square _one._"_

"_You won't touch my child," I spat out, "You'll have to kill me first, then you'll have Dean and Sam, _both _to worry about."_

_In an instant, the yellow-eyed demon appeared in front of me, clutching my throat, "Oh, trust me, I would've done so several times over." The muscle in the creature's jaw twitched, "Truth is, I prefer not to make such a big scene." He continued, letting my neck go when he regained his composure and turned his back to me. I brought my hands up to my neck where I gasped for several moments, "I will ensure the child is dead before this begins, Abigail." He concluded in a singsong voice, finishing with a smug smile, "The only choice is whether _you_ end it or _I_ will, and yes, there will be blood."_

_Sam's Point of View_

_Motel Room—Morning_

I sat quietly on my bed, staring down at the sketch of a tree that I had been sketching. For some reason, this had stood out to me like I had seen it. Ever since the dream I had last night, I had been less than eager to hear all the options of possible jobs from Dean. I glanced up every now and then at him, seeing how he was acting like nothing had happened. The torn look from Abigail upon coming outside where we stood, quickly changing into an enraged confrontation had been enough to send Dean through a series of apologies that had fallen upon deaf ears.

A deep frown pulled at the corners of my mouth as I remembered it too, still scribbling away at the tree. There was a painful tug on my heart, recollecting several things from last night's events. I couldn't help but glance over to the mess of covers that was Abigail. She didn't wake up when Dean and I finally coming back in from the bar, to which Dean almost stepped on the cell phone that she had thrown across the room. Dean being half-drunk and wanting to apologize to Abigail didn't happen right away like he had planned. _It was just a matter of time when she did wake up._ I frowned further, staring at the wad of sheets that she had long since made a cocoon in Dean's absence for the past hour.

_She's usually up by now, _I thought to myself.

"Hey." Dean's voice cuts me from my thoughts. I blinked a couple of times, looking at him, "Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"

"No. I'm listening. Keep going." I said, giving him a distracted wave for him to continue, when in truth, I wasn't really paying attention. Dean arched a brow at me in a disbelieving manner before he turned his attention back to the laptop. Looking back down at my drawing of the tree, I scrunched my face trying to remember where I have seen this.

"And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. _Three_ times." Dean continued, then waved his hand around to get my attention, realizing that I wasn't saying anything, "Any of these things blowin' up your skirt, pal?"

I blinked at my drawing, ignoring Dean's question, "Wait. I've seen this."

"Seen what?" Dean asked, as I got up from the bed and opened my duffel bag in search of something. "What are you doing?" I heard him ask again, mildly curious about what I was doing.

Scrunching my face as I sifted through my belongings, I nodded to myself when I found what I was searching for; an old family photo, pre-hunting era. With the drawing still in hand, I glanced at the drawing, to the photograph, and back at it with scrutiny before it dawned on me that the tree that I drew is the same tree in that photograph.

"Dean, I know where we have to go next." I declared, earning a bewildered look from Dean.

"Where?" He asked.

"Back home—back to Kansas," I replied, earning a pinched look from Dean. He instantly became uncomfortable at my declaration of a job.

"_Okay_, random." Dean replied with a grimace, "Where'd that come from?"

I crossed the room to show him the photograph, "Alright, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right?" I asked, as he looked down at the photograph with a perturbed frown, "The house where Mom died?" I leaned forward on the table, earning a confused look from Dean.

He merely nodded, "Yeah."

I continued, "And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, _right_?" I asked, sounding a little _too_ excited about the revelations that I've discovered.

My brother cast a wary glance at me as he looked up from the photograph, "I guess so, yeah." He replied, lifting his shoulders in a dismissive shrug, "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

Pulling out a chair from the table, I sat down, "Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy, but…. The people who live in our old house–I think they might be in danger." I concluded.

Dean had fallen silent before leaning forward, "_Why_—," he cringed, casting a glance to Abigail, who was still asleep, "—would you think that?"

The second I had opened my mouth to speak, the bed creaked and Abigail had shot up awake, covering her face in her hands and let out a stifled sob. Dean looked stricken before he scrambled to get out of his chair and rushed over to the bed, apparently startling Abigail. I stood up quickly upon hearing a frightened yelp came from her as she jerked away from Dean and scooted across the bed, away from him. Something had scared her bad, and taking a guess, it had been a nightmare. A bad one.

Her eyes were wide with fright, tears cascading down her face, dripping off her chin and onto her shirt. Staying in my place, I noticed Abigail's chest heaving in a breathless manner until she realized that it was just Dean and I.

"Abigail, are you alright?" I asked, seeing her look at me.

She shook her head in a wordless 'no', running a hand through her hair before her face crumpled into a series of choking sobs. Abigail's face turned redder and redder with each sob, making Dean grab her from where she sat on the bed and pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping an arm around her waist, and the other cradling her head against his chest. His eyes met mine, pained.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I caught Dean whispering to her. Abigail just shook her head again, inhaling deeply for another round of sobs. I stood clenching and unclenching my hands, watching helplessly as the girl who I looked up to for so long, crying out of fear. And honestly, I couldn't take seeing her like this. I frowned, feeling my brows pull together, worried.

_Dean's Point of View_

It had taken Abigail a little over thirty minutes to calm down, and now, she was in the bathroom, blowing chunks. I felt my face scrunch in disgust, hearing the not-so-muffled sounds of retching behind the closed bathroom door. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, looking up at Sammy with a frown.

"Do you think she's going to be alright?" He asked me quietly. I cringed at the sound of another retch.

I shrugged, "What can I say, Sammy? She's pregnant. They're supposed to have wacked out dreams or whatever."

Sam glanced to the bathroom, "Yeah, but something tells me this is something other than a hormone induced dream."

"Well, whatever it was about, it's shaken her up pretty bad," I replied, suddenly falling silent. The killer headache I had pounded against my temples in a fashion that someone had used my head as a punching bag. I ran a hand across my face, and closed my eyes remembering last night. It had been a blur since entering the bar, but everything beforehand—unfortunately—_wasn't_.

I felt my chest squeeze painfully, seeing the wounded and betrayed expression on Abigail's face in my mind. My jaw clenched, _I did that. I had caused Abigail to hurt like she did._ _It's my fault. _Another retch resonated through my thoughts. _I said I wasn't ready for a child._ I let my hand fall, staring at the burgundy carpet to the room. _Abigail isn't ready for one either… I screwed up her life. I did this._

Sam had turned his back to me, stuffing his things into his duffle bag. I straightened up on the bed, "What are you doing?" I asked.

He glanced over his shoulder, "Uh… it's just, um… look, just trust me on this, okay?"

I stood up, "Wait, whoa, whoa, _trust_ you?"

Sam turned, placing a hand on his duffle bag, "Yeah."

"Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that." I motioned my arm behind me to the bathroom, "Abigail and I just had it out last night, and now she just had a breakdown. You're _still_ set on this?"

"I can't really explain it is all." Sam admitted.

"Well, tough. I'm not goin' anywhere until you do." I folded my arms, giving Sam an expectant look.

Sam bowed his head for a moment, sighing, "I have these nightmares."

_No duh._ I nodded at him, "I've noticed. Abigail has them too."

He flashed me an unimpressed look, "And sometimes…. They come true."

_Well, that's new._ I blinked, stunned. "Come again?"

Sam shook his head, "Look, Dean….I dreamt about Jessica's death—for days before it happened."

I dropped back onto the bed, "Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

"Yeah, like Abigail having that dream of the Yellow-Eyed demon the night Jess died?" Sam countered. I stared at Sam, clenching my jaw. He had a point. Sam frowned, "I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, _everything_, and I didn't do anything about it 'cause I didn't believe it." Sam had begun to pace, upset, "And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?"

All of this was too much to process, I glanced down at the photograph that sat beside me, "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't _know_, Dean?" Sam pushed, sitting across from me on his bed, "This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!" His voice raised a little more than usual, his breathing had become quicker.

I had to get up, "Alright, just slow down, would you?" By now, I had begun to pace, "I mean, first _you_ tell me that you've got _the Shining,_ when Abigail already has it too? And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when…."I stopped myself.

I just couldn't. Not back to that house. I swore to myself… that I wouldn't go back. My face pinched into an uncomfortable look.

"When what?" Sam asked, not understanding.

Running a hand over my face to shove the memories seared into my mind away. I looked up at him with haunted eyes, "When I swore to myself that I would never go back there."

Sam's steeled expression softened, "Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure."

I nodded slowly, comfortable that anything that had been shown was incapable of being seen again. "I know we do." I murmured.

_Abigail's Point of View_

Exiting the bathroom, I had heard everything. Sam's urgency to go back to Kansas, while Dean was reluctant to go. A mutual sense of empathy washed over me, however, the sense of wanting to go my separate ways with them for the time being had been too strong to want to accompany them. Especially when Sam and Dean's fight was too fresh, my confrontation to Dean was still too fresh… everything was still stinging with the intensity of a thousand cigarette burns.

Dean and Sam had turned, looking at me. Both were silent. They both shared an expression that wanted to ask if I was alright, what the dream (s) I had were of, and of course, a long list of apologies from Dean. Right now, I didn't have the energy or the patience for them.

Instead of speaking to either of them, Dean in particular, I walked past him to gather clothes from my duffle bag. I grabbed a pair of light gray jeans with holes in the knees, my ancient Johnny Cash shirt that had belonged to my father, and one of Sam's oversized workout hoodies from way back when, earning a soft look from both men. I had a feeling that it was just going to be one of those days.

Zipping my bag, I retreated back into the bathroom where it had taken me a few minutes to get my clothes on, and fought with my pants. I frowned. _Great, just great._ I thought, before zipping them up victoriously and walked back out, shoving the clothes I wore back into my bag. I pulled my boots on, looking to each man.

"When we leavin'?" I asked, receiving bewildered looks from Sam and Dean.

"Uh, anytime you're ready." Sam said, glancing to Dean for help. He nodded.

_March 29__th__, 2006_

_Lawrence, Kansas_

_Winchester House—Day_

Dean pulled the Impala in front of a beautiful two story home. I was in awe that this residency once had been called their home. I couldn't help but see the stricken look in Dean's eyes once he saw the house, his gaze drifting to a room on the second floor. A sliver of grief found its way into my heart, gripping it tightly and pushed away my stubbornness for just a moment.

"You gonna be alright?" I asked lightly, earning a glance from Dean up in the rearview mirror.

Dean had pulled his lips into a thin, tight line with an expression of uncertainty, "Let me get back to you on that."

I merely nodded, throwing a glance to Sam, who returned it with a soft look. We all three got out of the car, Sam already ahead of Dean and I, who grabbed my elbow—stopping me. Silently, I looked at him.

Dean stared at me with an ashamed look in his eyes, "Are we going to be alright?" He asked me lightly, eyes swiveling as he scanned my face for any readable emotion. Finding none, he frowned, growing panicked.

"Let me get back to you on that," I stated quietly, seeing his eyes widen at his own words. Dean's grip on my elbow slackened, letting my arm go. He nodded before walking ahead of me, catching up to Sam. With a sigh, I trailed behind, seeing a woman answer the door, "Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal—" Dean began to say, until Sam had cut in.

"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean." Sam introduced, "We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin' by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place."

The woman smiled, taking in Sam and Dean's appearances and nodded, "Winchester." She murmured, "Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."

Dean looked taken aback at her discovery, "You did?"

She looked at him and nodded, "Come on in." Dean threw a quick glance in my direction, maneuvering himself closer to me when the woman stepped aside. The three of us entered, following her into the kitchen where a little girl was sitting at a table scribbling or possibly doing homework while a little boy, a toddler, was jumping around in his playpen shouting; "Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!"

"I'm Jenny, by the way." She finally introduced, "That's Ritchie." She said as she reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a sippy cup, "He's kind of a juice junkie." As Jenny handed Ritchie his sippy cup, he brought it to his lips and watched us, thoughtfully, "But, hey, at least he won't get scurvy." Jenny laughed at her joke, heading over to the little girl, "Sari, this is Sam and Dean and—?" Jenny blinked realizing that she hadn't caught my name.

"Abigail." I said with a smile. She smiled back.

"They used to live here." Jenny told her daughter.

"Hi." Sari said. Dean waved tentatively at her.

I smiled sweetly at her and waggled my fingers at her in my form of a wave.

Sam smiled at her, "Hey, Sari."

Dean looked to Jenny, "So, you just moved in?"

"Yeah, from Wichita." She answered.

"You got family here, or….?" I asked, looking around the room as my curiosity piqued. Was it bad that I wanted to walk around this house and be nosy about my boyfriend's past? A little bit. Something also didn't feel right either. It was like there were two pairs of eyes watching us; both having different emotions. One was hostile and the other…a mixture of sorrow and joy. I shifted beside Sam, wringing my hands a little, wincing. Remembering that my hands were hurt by my nails, I quickly ran them down the front of my jeans.

Jenny shook her head, "No. I just, uh….needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job—I mean, as soon as I find one. New house." She replied, looking around as well.

"So, how you likin' it so far?" Sam asked her.

She smiled sheepishly at him, "Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home—I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here." She said, earning a weak smile from Dean. "But, this place has its issues." Jenny said. Goosebumps had risen across my skin upon feeling Dean brush his fingers against the back of my hand for some form of reassurance, finally placing his hand on the small of my back. I looked at him from the corner of my eyes seeing how this house was making him uncomfortable.

Sam blinked, "What do you mean?"

Jenny's shoulders lifted in a shrug, "Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly."

"Oh, that's too bad. What else?" Dean asked.

"Um…sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement." She paused, realizing that she was prattling on, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain." She gushed.

Dean shook his head at her, smiling, "No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?"

"It's just the scratching, actually." Jenny replied.

Sari looked up to her mother, "Mom?" Jenny went over to Sari and kneeled. Dean and Sam glanced at each other, then to me. I gave them a knowing look. Something was _definitely_ off about the house with what Jenny had told us, and I could definitely sense whatever was here. Sari glanced to us, then to her mother, "Ask them if it was here when they lived here."

I blinked, "What, Sari?"

"The thing in my closet." She answered.

Jenny's face reddened, embarrassed, "Oh, no baby, there were nothing in their closets." She looked to Sam and Dean for reassurance, "Right?"

Sam nodded, "Right. No, no, of course not."

Jenny laughed nervously, stroking Sari's hair, "She had a nightmare the other night."

"I _wasn't_ dreaming." Sari said, upset, "It came into my bedroom—and it was on fire." Both of them were shell-shocked by Sari's dream—Dean formed a fist at the small of my fist grabbing some of my clothing, face pale as if he were sick. Sam looked like he had the bad case of the jitters…It was then I decided it was time for us to go.

I cleared my throat, "Uh, well, um. Thank you for letting us take a look around…well, them." I said, motioning my head to Sam and Dean. "I'm just the girlfriend." I laughed anxiously, "We should get out of your hair."

Jenny laughed a little, "No problem, let me show you the way out." I smiled at her, gently snaking my arm around Dean's waist, urging him to follow. Neither of them wasted time leaving the house with me trailing behind again.

"You hear that?" Sam said, "A figure on _fire._"

"And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?" Dean asked, arm still around my waist. I had heard the conversation earlier this morning while I was in the bathroom. Sam, who looked a little shaken, nodded.

"Yeah." He answered, "And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering light, both signs of a malevolent spirit."

Dean looked disturbed by Sam's revelation, "Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are comin' true."

A panicked expression spread across Sam's face, "Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that kill Mom and Jessica?" Dean let go of my waist becoming overwhelmed with everything.

"I don't know!" He exclaimed moving to the car and planted his arms on the roof. Sam looked to Dean for guidance, clearly perturbed. Looking over my shoulder, I gazed to their old house and fully turned upon seeing something staring down at us in the window from the second story. With furrowed brows, I saw a beautiful blonde woman in a white nightgown standing in plain view. She wore a sad smile that had instantly broken my heart. Everything that Dean and Sam was saying became blocked out as I gazed at the sad woman, my mouth hanging slightly open.

"Abigail!" Sam said, touching my arm gently. I jumped, looking to him with wide eyes, "Hey, hey. Just me." Dean and Sam looked up at the house where I was staring, "What were you doing?"

Embarrassed I smiled, tucking an invisible strand of hair behind my ear, "I just…thought," I looked back to the house, into the window and saw nothing, "I just thought I saw something…" I laughed sheepishly, "Stupid pregnancy hormones."

Dean looked at me, "You felt something in that house, Abigail." He said point blank, "You _just_ saw something, didn't you?"

Glancing between the two brothers, I nodded, "I can't explain what I just saw…or what I felt when we were in there. Whatever it is, there's two." I saw shock roll across them, "One good, one bad."

"_Excuse_ me?" Dean asked, blinking several times as if he misheard me, "Two spirits? One _good_ and the other bad." He scoffed at me, "There is nothing _good_ about malevolent spirits. You, of all people, should know."

I shrugged, "I knows 'em as I feels 'em, Dean."

Sam appeared to be fed up with our bickering, "Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get 'em out of that house."

His brother nodded, "And we will."

"No, I mean now." Sam said testily.

"And how you gonna do that, huh?" Dean asked, sighing, "You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

Sam looked to us both for some form of guidance, "Then what are we supposed to do?"

Hanging my head, I honestly didn't know what to say or do. This was beginning to bother me as much as it bothered both Sam and Dean.

_Gas Station—Day_

"We just gotta chill out, that's all." Dean was saying, "You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Sam, who was leaning against the car beside me, hung his head and sighed.

"We'd try to figure out what we were dealin' with. We'd dig into the history of the house." He said quietly.

I nodded, folding my arms across my chest, "Exactly, except this time, we already know what happened."

"Yeah, but how much do we know?" Sam asked, looking over to Dean, "I mean, how much do you actually remember?"

Dean shifted, "About that night, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Not much. I remember the fire…the heat." He recalled, eyes glazing over in memorandum of that fateful night. Sam and I stared at him quietly, hearing him take a deep breath, "And then I carried you out the front door."

"You did?" Sam asked, genuinely surprised.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, what, you never knew that?" Sam, touched, shook his head, "And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was….was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her." He continued.

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asked.

"If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times." Dean shrugged as I raked my nails up and down his back gently in comfort.

Sam nodded, "Okay. So, if we're gonna figure out what's goin' on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it's the same thing."

"Yeah. We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time." Dean said, nodding in agreement at Sam's idea. It was a start. We all fell silent, unsure of what to exactly do. For right now, the events of what happened last night was on the backburner while we had this to address.

"Does this feel like just another job to you?" He asked Dean quietly. I stopped scratching, looking at Sam sadly. Dean remained silent, however beside me, he was tense.

"I'll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom." Dean said as he took off towards the bathrooms, leaving us behind a little bewildered. Sam turned his head, looking at me.

"You think he's alright?" he asked me.

I shrugged, "I really don't know, Sammy." The urge to pee suddenly hit me and I frowned, peering down at my stomach, "I could probably use a pee break myself." I commented, earning a soft smile from Sam as I gently patted his shoulder affectionately before I headed in the direction to where Dean had went. This pregnancy thing was irritating. Between vomiting at everything you looked at or smelled and having to pee every ten minutes it seemed, it was alright. Just…exhausting.

Crossing the lot, I couldn't help but feel heartbroken over Dean and Sam having to come back to their roots—having to set foot into the house that had forever changed their lives. It had to be god awful on Sam, even worse on Dean. Looking back at the sad looking woman in Jenny's house, I felt this strong connection from her to them, a maternal one.

I rounded the corner to the back of the gas station, halting upon seeing Dean on the phone. He looked so distressed. "Dad? I know I've left you messages before. I don't even know if you'll get 'em." I heard him say. My heart clenched, realizing he was calling John, getting his voicemail—_no surprise there_. I stepped back, feeling that Dean needed his privacy until his eyes met mine with an anguished look and shook his head, motioning me to walk over to him. I walked over, still unsure about walking in on his one-sided conversation. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and cleared his throat, still on the phone. "But I'm with Abigail…and Sam. I don't know any other way to tell you this, but…Abigail's pregnant. And we're in Lawrence. And there's somethin' in our old house." He closed his eyes for a moment, "I don't know if it's the thing that killed Mom or not, but…." Dean paused when his voice broke, lip trembling. Tears welled in my eyes upon seeing Dean barely holding it together. He took a deep breath, "…I don't know what to do." He hung his head, tears sliding down his face, "So, whatever you're doin', if you could get here. _Please_. I need your help, Dad." Upon hanging up, I moved from his side, to his front, cupping his face in my hands. Using both of my thumbs, I wiped away the stray tears that had escaped before he leaned into me, placing his forehead against my shoulder. In silence, his body shook, wrapping his arms around me tightly as if I were going to disappear.

Of course, my hormones acted up and I buried my face into his jacket trying to hide the tears as well. We were alone on this one and I don't think John was going to do a damn thing to help us. Anger bloomed inside my stomach. I was angry at him. I was angry that John had just cut and run, leaving Dean and me on our own. Leaving us without a word, not calling to tell us that he was fine, or alive, or where he was at. For that anger I held, I cried.

We both stayed behind the gas station, clinging to each other in the desperate need of guidance that we knew wasn't coming. At least, not anytime soon. A few moments passed by as Dean moved his head away from my shoulder to rest his chin on top of my head, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing in deeply to calm himself. Sniffling, I blinked away rouge tears and breathed in his scent, sliding my hand up his stomach to his chest, where I grasped his amulet between my thumb and forefinger.

"He's not comin', is he?" I muttered, staring off at the propane cages to avoid crying any further.

Dean kissed my head tenderly, "I don't think so," he replied, taking his hands and wiped away my tears before wiping his away. We were silent for another moment, "So what do we do now?"

I swiped my nose with the sleeve of my hoodie, and sighed heavily. "We work this like any other job."

His eyes were clouded over with sadness, "I meant about us."

"We'll talk about it later when we figure out what's going on, Dean." I said, wanting to shove the problem down. Dean had a look in his eyes that I knew he was going to say something anyways.

"Abigail, let me explain. _Please._" He stated…_begged_, "This can't wait. I _have _to tell you." Dean captured my face between his hands, those breathtaking hazel eyes of his staring into my soul. "Abigail, you being pregnant, I can't explain to you how…how happy I am."

_What?_ I blinked, looking up at Dean in utter shock.

"I'm scared shitless," he continued, "God, I'm scared. And I know you have to be."

"That's an understatement," I muttered.

"There's _no_ way I can begin to understand what you're going through and have gone through…" Dean's face crumpled into another anguished expression, "And right now, the majority of it is because of me," His eyes bore into mine, "I've been shitty to you and I deserved every bit of what you said last night. I'm a coward." My bottom lip puckered out and a new wave of tears fell. Dean wiped them away quickly, "I'm just…so scared that I'm not going to be a good father."

"Dean," I whispered, trying to cover up the fact that I was about to cry again, "You can't beat yourself up like this. I was shitty too" I shook my head stiffly due to his hands grasping my face, "You're not a coward…nowhere _near _it." My voice cracked and I paused, taking a deep breath, "Dean…you are one of the sweetest, caring, and gentlest douchebags I've ever met."

Dean cracked a smile and laughed softly, "Oh really?"

I nodded, "Yeah. You are going to be a great dad to this baby…_our_ baby." I smiled upon seeing a grin breakout across his face, "Lord willing it's a girl, I know you'll have the male population backed off for at least thirty years. And I know if it's a boy, he's gonna grow up to be like you. Just like you." I tilted my head, "Granted, I'll have him brainwashed with Reba and Dolly. But he'll be your little sidekick; leatherjackets, boots, and pie."

At that, Dean stared at me with a grimace, "Don't put him in that kind of torture, he's just a kid." We laughed as he pulled me into another embrace. It felt amazing to be just wrapped in his arms, thinking for right now…we were okay. Our differences were locked away and set aside. Granted, I still felt guilty as hell. I knew Dean had to be as well.

I pulled back away from him, placing a kiss on his cheek in which, Dean turned his head slightly in order to steal the kiss. He smirked to himself at his small victory.

The kiss itself was gentle and sweet—the complete opposite anyone would think of considering Dean's appearance. The Johnny Badass exterior completely overshadowed his gentle interior on a daily basis, in which he made up for it in several ways. In truth, that's probably why I ended up pregnant in the first place.

Upon the moment our lips had touched, every bad thing, every worry I had residing in me, had dissipated. I just kissed him back, placing a hand on the back of his neck and willingly parted my lips to allow his tongue entrance. Dean had wasted no time in doing so, threading his fingers through my hair, tugging gently at the roots. It was like a match that had brought forth a flame lit within me that elicited a soft moan to escape as I ran my hands through his short hair, scraping my nails against his scalp where he pulled away from me, breathing heavily. Staring into each other's eyes, Dean's brows knit together with what looked like worry.

"Does this mean we're okay?" He asked, pulling his hands out from my hair where he stroke my cheek with the pad of his thumb. Glittering, Dean's eyes searched my face, waiting.

I was hesitant. Then I nodded, "Yeah…yeah, I think we're okay."

A look of relief flooded his face and he nodded, kissing me again several times. _Jesus, can he be any more of a turn on? _I thought as he pulled away for good, "We should probably head back before the cavalry arrives." He murmured. I smiled.

"We should, but you can go on. I really do have to pee." I said. Dean nodded, already, his composure and façade was in place. He couldn't just show back up to Sam looking upset and flustered. We both know that would've freaked him out. Especially right now. I made a move for the bathroom only to be stopped by Dean again.

I looked at him, curious. "What did you see back at the house?" He asked me quietly.

I frowned. _Crap_. "Dean, I can't make any promises about what I saw…" I answered, placing a hand on his shoulder, "In the window, I saw this…woman. She was so beautiful." I said, hushed. Dean's jaw clenched.

"What did she look like?" He asked me.

"Blonde hair, white nightgown…" I replied truthfully, seeing a pained look on his face and he bowed his head. I frowned, "Dean…I don't want you to get your hopes up…I don't want to be wrong and say something about what I _thought_ I saw."

"But you're not." He said quickly, looking up at me with eyes glittering with tears, "You're telling me…that Sam and I's mom is there still? In that house?"

I looked to the ground, "It's possible, Dean…Like I said, I felt two spirits…one good and one bad."

He nodded, blinking the tears away and kissed my forehead.

"Don't tell Sam…I don't want him to go ape shit and jump the gun…" I told him, brokenly.

"I know…" Dean responded, "We need more information before anything else can be done."

_Guenther's Auto Repair—Day_

I had decided to stay behind on this 'routine' checkup to John's old workplace due to an overwhelming sense of queasiness. It sort of dawned on me, how in the matter of eight or seven months that our world was going to be turned upside down with a squalling, up all hours of the night, combination of mine and Dean's DNA. The corner of my lips tugged up into a slight smile, absentmindedly running a hand over my stomach. This little thing was something that we had created, though totally unplanned, together. It was _ours_.

I turned my head to watch Sam and Dean ask the owner of the auto repair establishment quietly. There were a few auto mechanics tinkering around on cars, the owner had grease on his hands as he spoke to both men. Dean and Sam looked at him intently, soaking everything up. I managed to catch snippets of the conversation from the window being rolled down.

From what I gathered, John had loved Mary and the boys dearly. That part was true. It was all I remember him talking about when I was younger and when I came into their family. He was the closest thing my father had to another brother, Dean and Sam both had been considered family by him as well. The owner started to chuckle about remembering John to be a stubborn bastard. I couldn't help but throw in a chuckle at that as well…and he hasn't changed either.

Almost instantaneously, the owner's demeanor changed upon Sam asking a question. His expression was grave, almost out of pity. Everything he said was too low for me to understand, however I could hear him scoff out a 'no' about something.

I blinked, _well ain't he got an open mind about something._ Dean and Sam nodded in thanks to the owner and returned to the car. I waited patiently, staring Dean down as he approached. Seeing me staring, he threw me a wink as he got in.

"So?" I asked.

"So, what?" Dean said, feigning confusion.

I crossed my arms, "Spill the beans, Dean." Sam got in, sighing.

"It was a bust for the most part," Dean explained.

"But apparently Dad was talking to a palm reader." Sam added, I blinked. Hm…interesting.

We were parked beside a payphone searching through a phonebook…Sam was, Dean wasn't, and I was occupying a nearby bush due to smelling something rancid. _Joy_.

"All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town." Sam said, pointing to the yellow page section in the back of the book, "There's someone named El Divino. There's, uh –" Sam broke out in an amused laugh, "—there's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Moseley—"

I wiped my mouth, "Wait, wait." I said, recognizing the name. Sam looked up from the phonebook, "Missouri Moseley?"

Sam blinked, "What?"

"That's a psychic?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded, "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so." Dean went into the backseat of the car and into his duffle, pulling out John's journal.

"In Dad's journal…" Dean murmured, opening the journal to the first page and spun it for Sam to look, "here, look at this. First page, first sentence, read that."

Sam glanced at us and scanned the journal, "_I went to Missouri and I learned the truth._" He read aloud from the journal.

Dean shrugged, "I always thought he meant the state."

"You though Missouri was the _state?_" I deadpanned. Dean gave me a small shrug. _Poor thing._

_Missouri's House_

Dean and Sam sat on the couch in Missouri's house quietly while I plundered through various items in wonder, a childish grin gracing my features. Sam was more or less skeptical to be sitting at a 'psychic's' house while Dean was watching me with a small, content smile on his face. I held up a little figurine, my grin widening as I sat back down between Sam and Dean.

"Oh my God, I haven't seen this thing in _years_!" I said a little too excitedly, holding the acrylic person tenderly and flipped it over and laughed at the long cracks going around its torso and legs. "I used to play with this and I ended up breaking it."

Sam laughed, "Why?"

"It's stupid," I replied holding the figure, "Michael and Shelby had to be two, maybe three…I didn't want him to get hurt and have a piece of the acrylic cutting him. So I broke it."

Dean glanced at the figure and took it from me inspecting it, "You realize this is practically plastic, right?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I know." I nudged them both, "Even afterwards,_ I_ ended up getting cut." They both laughed, "Told you it was stupid."

Dean handed me back the figure, laying a hand on my thigh, "Not at all. I would've done the same thing." Sam chuckled, bowing his head slightly to where his hair covered his eyes. I smiled at him, placing the figurine on the coffee table when Missouri came out from a room, escorting a man with a reassuring smile.

"Alright, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing." She told him with a thick southern accent that I remembered so well, "Your wife is crazy about you." With a reluctant smile and a word of thanks, the man walked out and she closed the front door behind him. "_Whew._ Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."

Dean's brow arched at Missouri's bold-faced lie, "Why didn't you tell him?" he asked.

Missouri turned her body slightly, "People don't come here for the truth," she replied, "they come for good news."

I snickered at the astonished look on his face, Sam giving Dean an unsure look—not really knowing what to do since they were here while I, on the other hand, was perfectly at home.

Missouri stood, giving us an expectant look, "Well?" she stated, "Sam, Dean…come on already, I don't got all day." Dean and Sam shared a surprised look, watching her stroll through a beaded curtain. Amused, I got up to follow her, the boys following close behind; not knowing what to expect with Missouri.

Dean came through, watching over his shoulder at the beads as they clacked together before resting his hand on my lower back. Sam stepped in a couple of seconds later, scrunching his face when some of the strands of beads got caught in his hair.

"Serves him right for not cutting his hair," Dean muttered in my ear. I elbowed him and he grunted, shooting me a glare, "What was that for?"

Missouri turned to us with a smile, giving each of us an appraising look, "Well, lemme look at ya." I was first. She pulled me into a tight hug, laughing enthusiastically, "Oh, Abby-baby, you've done grown up on me."

I hugged her tightly, laughing, "It's good to see you too, _mamaw._" Stepping back, Missouri held my hands with contented sigh.

"And you're pregnant?" She asked, looking to me then to Dean, who shifted uncomfortably and nodded, "Oh, he's going to be handsome, and feisty like your daddy was."

I gaped in shock, "A-a boy? I-I haven't even seen a doctor yet…" I looked at Dean and Sam, who were both gaping in shock. Sam laughed, thrilled and patted Dean on the back. He smiled weakly, looking down at his boots.

Missouri let go of my hands giving me a dangerous look that I knew too well, "Girl, have I ever lied to you?"

I swallowed, "No."

She smiled, "Good." Missouri then turned her sights on Sam and Dean. They shifted uncomfortably, "Oh, you boys grew up handsome." She suddenly pointed a finger at Dean, "And you were one _goofy_-lookin' kid, too." Me and Sam snickered and she nudged me, "He loves you a lot, Abby-baby. I don't think you couldn't be any happier since that night." I frowned, glancing over to Dean who looked slightly embarrassed, but frowned because my parents were brought up again. That was one thing _mamaw_ Missouri didn't do was hold anything back.

Quietly, I watched her reach out for Sam's hand and patted, "Sam." She told him softly, yet was sincere, "Oh, honey…I'm sorry about your girlfriend." The three of us stared, shocked, "And your father—he's missin'?"

Dean stood beside Sam, gaping at Missouri while Sam looked to Dean and I with wide eyes, then to her, "How'd-how'd you know all that?"

"Well, you were just thinkin' it just now." She answered, matter-of-factly. Sam's dark brows raised at her, surprised. She smiled at me, "That's how I knew Abby-baby was pregnant. The three of you were all thinkin' it. The boy part, it just came to me when I hugged her._"_

"Well, where is he?" Dean asked, "Is he okay?"

Missouri shook her head, "I don't know."

His face scrunched into an impatient expression, "Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right? You knew I'm supposed to have a daughter." I took a step away from Missouri upon seeing a dark look cross over her.

"_Boy_, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I _may_ be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air." She chastised Dean before motioning us to the couch, "Sit, please." Quietly, we sat down; Sam on my left and Dean on my right, "_Boy_, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm 'a whack you with a spoon!" She snapped again at him. Dean's eyes widened.

"I didn't do anything." He said, glancing at me when I paled slightly at the mention of Missouri threatening with a spoon.

"But you were thinkin' about it." She said. He raised his brows in surprise, appropriately reprimanded as Sam sat beside me snickering. As bad as I wanted to laugh and joke with Sam, the spoon was nothing to joke about. It could run Satan himself out of anyone. Not shitting around.

"Okay. So, our dad—when did you first meet him?" Sam asked, returning to our task at hand. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees in an attentive fashion.

"He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say…I drew back the curtains for him." She said, leaning back in her chair.

"What about the fire?" Dean asked, "Do you know about what killed our mom?"

She nodded, "A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And could you?" Sam pressed, eager to find out more.

Missouri gave us all a hesitant look, "I…"

I frowned, "What is it?"

"I don't know," she whispered, looking to each of us, "Oh, but it was evil."

_This ain't good_…I remembered the dreams I had last night. I felt so tormented from them…the yellow-eyed demon rearing his ugly head again for the first time in _months._ I hadn't said one thing to Dean or Sam about it, about the threats he made towards me and our unborn child. Missouri turned her head to me, already knowing what I was thinking about. Her forehead wrinkled with worry-lines.

"So…you think somethin' is back in that house?" She asked me.

Now I was on the spot. I sighed, nodding, "Definitely, _mamaw._"

Missouri shook her head, "I don't understand."

Sam glanced between her and me, "What?"

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents." She said, "Why is it actin' up now?"

"I don't know. But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and Abigail having those nightmares…now this house all happening at once—it just feels like something's starting." Sam replied.

Dean leaned back into the couch, putting an arm around my shoulders, "That's a comforting thought."

"Maybe I should go back and take another look," Missouri said, "I know you saw something, and sensed something, Abby-baby."

I grew uncomfortable, "I did…"

She nodded, "Then it's settled, we're gonna take another look at that house."

_Winchester House—Day_

Missouri, Sam, Dean, and I walked up to the front door to Jenny's house, Sam rapping on the door. A moment passed when Jenny opened the door holding Ritchie. She appeared flustered, like something scared the daylights out of her.

She looked at Sam and Dean, "Sam, Dean. What are you doing here?"

"Hey, Jenny. This is our friend, Missouri." Sam said, introducing Missouri.

Dean gave her a smile, "If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house. You know, for old time's sake."

Jenny glanced over her shoulder, "You know, this isn't a good time. I'm kind of busy." She made a move to close the door until Dean held his hand out, stopping her.

"Listen, Jenny, it's important." He said until Missouri smacked him on the back of the head with lightning speed, "Ow!" I frowned slightly, watching Dean rub the back of his head gingerly, looking at the psychic with a mild glare.

Missouri glared back at him, "Give the poor girl a break, can't you see she's upset?" She chastised him again before giving Jenny a smile, "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out." Dean gaped at her, stunned.

Jenny eyed her warily, "About what?"

"About this house." Missouri replied.

Jenny threw Missouri a suspicious look, "What are you talking about?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about. You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?" Missouri asked her.

Some form of bewilderment fell on Jenny, "Who are you?"

"We're people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us, just a little." Missouri told her. Jenny looked to each of us in an unsure manner, and stepped aside, relenting. We stepped into Jenny's house, Missouri leading the way as we filed into Sari's bedroom.

Upon stepping through, I froze in the doorway like an invisible hand grabbed my throat and I couldn't breathe. It just hit me all at once; _Lights flicker on a baby monitor sitting on a nightstand next to a photo of a woman and John. I looked closer, gazing at the sleeping woman and realized it was Dean and Sam's mother, Mary. The same woman I saw in the window earlier today. _

"_Mary!" I shouted out to her, extending a hand to shake her. Only, I was transparent and I went through her arm. A feeling of desperation ran through me, adrenaline shooting through my veins; knowing that this had to be the night she died. Looking over to the baby monitor, it crackled in and out, like snow on a television. _

_This dark, and foreboding sensation gripped me like an icy chill as Mary stirred from her sleep, reaching over—through me—to turn on the light on the nightstand. She looked over to her side, rubbing her eyes, "John?"_ _Upon realizing that she was alone, Mary got up. _

"_Mary, don't. Please." I urged, stepping in front of her and squirmed as she went through me. Halting. She turned, looking at me—through me, with a confused look. Shaking her head, she continued through the hallway to what was Sari's room. I followed her in, and stopped, reeling at the silhouette standing over a crib…Sam's crib, "Get Sam, Mary! That's not John, it's a demon! Run!" I screeched out, trying to claw at her arm to shake her. It was futile to do so, I was invisible to her._

_The look of motherly love was on her face. She had no clue. "John? Is he hungry?" she asked._

_What I saw was the demon, no doubt about it. What Mary _thought_ she saw was John. He turned his head to her, putting a finger to his lips in a 'shhhing' gesture._

_Unknowing of what was to become of this night, Mary nodded, "Alright." Turning, she headed back down the hallway, halting when she noticed the light by the stairs flickering. I looked at the demon that had haunted me, tormented my dreams and threatened my child's life before I looked to Mary, who was tapping at the light until it stopped flickering. I ran ahead of her, shoving my hands out to try and stop her. Seeing more flickering, she walked through me again to investigate seeing the television on and John asleep in a recliner. _

_Mary's eyes went wide in realization that whoever it was with Sammy, was definitely not John. She tore back upstairs, yelling, "Sammy! Sammy!" I flew back up with her, stopping short at the door with Mary. The demon turned, eyes glowing yellow. A wicked grin curled on his lips and flicked his hand, making her fly against a nearby wall; pinned. _

_With a dark look, she glared at the demon as he lifted his hand and her sliding up the wall. Another flick of his hand and her stomach began to bleed. She let out shrill, terrified scream. _

"_No!" I yelled out when she burst into flames, enveloping her. John rushed in, freezing up seeing the demon and then looked up to see his wife on the ceiling, burning._

Then in an instant, I was back with Missouri, Dean, and Sam. Missouri looked around the room, "If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it."

I blinked, looking from doorway. _Should I say something?_ I looked to Sam and Dean, they looked confused about what Missouri had just said.

"Why?" I heard him ask.

"This used to be your nursery, Sam. This, uh, this is where it all happened." I whispered, earning shocked looks from everyone, including Missouri. Sam cautiously looked up to the ceiling while Dean pulled out his EMF meter.

Missouri looked to Dean, "That an EMF?"

"Yeah." He replied.

She scoffed at him, unimpressed. "Amateur." Dean glared at her, nudging Sam to show him the EMF beeping frantically. An insecure expression came across her face, "I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom."

Sam turned to her, "Wait, are you sure?" Missouri nodded, "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's somethin' different." She said.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Not _it_." She murmured, walking over to the closet, opening it, "_Them._ There's more than one spirit in this place." Dean cast me a glance in my direction that went unnoticed by Missouri and Sam. He shifted in his place.

"What are they doing here?" He asked her once again.

Missouri turned to face Dean, "They're here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected."

"I don't understand." Sam said.

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead." She told him.

Sam suddenly turned to me, "Abigail, you said earlier there were more than one spirit."

I nodded, "There is…I-I just don't know about the other one…"

Missouri looked to me, "I can't make it out either, baby girl."

Dean looked conflicted, "Well, one thing's for damn sure –- nobody's dyin' in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?"

_Missouri's House_

We returned to Missouri's house; Dean and Sam sitting around a table while Missouri had enlisted me to help fetch several herbs and roots. Whatever she had planned, it was something new to me hence the several year absence since becoming a part of the Winchester family. Missouri sat down while I stepped through the beaded curtain carrying two mason jars, set them on the table and sat down next to Dean. He leaned forward to further inspect the jars.

"So, what is all this stuff, anyway?" he asked, intrigued.

I wiped my palms on my pant legs, "Uh, Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt…" I shrugged, earning a look of approval from Missouri, I glanced at the odd things that she had on the table as well, "From the looks of everythin' else…a few other odds and ends."

Straightening up, he looked at me, impressed that I knew those things, "Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?"

"We're gonna put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house." Missouri answered.

Dean grimaced, "We'll be punchin' holes in the dry wall. Jenny's gonna love that." He said dryly.

"She'll live." Missouri said slyly.

Sam looked to Missouri and me, "And this'll destroy the spirits?"

I glanced at Sam, "It should."

"It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad." Missouri said as Dean stuck his finger into one of the jars, popping it into his mouth and made a face. _Curiosity killed the cat, Dean_, I thought, watching him with a look of adoration.

"Baby girl, you mind helpin' your _mamaw_ one more time with somethin'?" Missouri asked. I looked at her, looked back to Sam and Dean.

"Of course," I replied, following her into a different room. Out of earshot, Missouri turned to face me.

"You have your hands full with that one, don't ya?" She asked, nodding in Dean's direction. I looked back at him watching as he put herbs and whatnot into charms, then back to her, nodding curious as to where Missouri was going with this. "Cut him some slack. He's gonna do the best he can for you and the baby." I frowned, earning a serious look from her, "He's worth it, Abigail. He's got somethin' special in him. Trust your _mamaw_ on that." Missouri rested a gentle hand on me, "Don't go waltzing out on him and Sammy, now. They need you more than you know. Especially Dean…" She clicked her tongue softly, "Poor soul's tryin' to hold it together as it is."

"I know." I muttered, feeling guilty all over again from the fight.

"Just be there for him, through everything, Abby-baby. No matter how hard things go for the both of you, be there for him." Missouri said. I looked at her, not knowing what to say. "There ain't no him, if there ain't no you."

I blinked, _What did she mean by that?_

She smiled, knowingly, "When we go back to the house, _stay_ with him. No matter what. For your safety and for your little boy's."

I nodded once again, "Of course."

_Winchester House_

Jenny didn't really like the thought of leaving four people that she barely knew in her house while she was out. Much to Missouri's persuasive ways, she reluctantly did; taking Sari and Ritchie out of the house for a few hours. That was one of the few good things that had gone right.

Already, I had grown anxious. Like whatever was here; other than the spirit of what I assumed as Mary Winchester, knew what we were up to. Then, we all split up. Sam had gone into one of the rooms upstairs, while I stuck close to Dean downstairs in the kitchen. Missouri had gone down into the basement. Dean didn't put up much of a protest—if that was what you could call it. I think he was more relieved for me to stay near him.

With our backs turned, I was antsy. It was suffocating really. I peeked over my shoulders every now and then as I stood behind Dean. He would glance back at me with an annoyed look, "Will you quit? You're making me nervous."

I bit my lip, pulling my brows together in an apologetic manner while I watched as he used a small axe to punch a hole into the wall, then allowed me to stuff the last charm into the wall.

There was a shuffling sound from behind, causing us both to look, and ducked as a knife shot out from a drawer like a bullet, embedding itself into a cabinet where our heads had just been. Before I could even react, Dean swore, grabbed me by the arm and drug me to the table where he turned it sideways to shield us just as a handful of knives collided with sickening thuds. I had to scoot backwards a few inches in order to not be impaled by one of the large knives as it sank through the wood until the handle caught it. We exchanged a brief look of horror.

Scrambling to get to our feet, Dean pushed me towards the kitchen door, "Go, go, go. Get, Sam!" he instructed, rushing down into the basement after Missouri. I ran upstairs, fear clenching my chest to the point where it was painful to breathe.

"Sam!" I yelled out, peering into each room until I stopped, seeing him lying on the ground, hands wound tightly at the cord, gasping for air. I slid to his side, fumbling with the cord as well. It wouldn't budge.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit." I cursed out when Sam was slowly losing consciousness, "Stay with me, Sammy." I said, getting up from his side and kicked a hole into the wall, picking up the charm and shove it into it. A blinding white light left the room we were in before I went back to Sam, unraveling the cord.

With a loud gasp, I pulled him into a crushing hug. Weakly, Sam's arms went around my waist, "Dammit, Sam, you scared the hell outta me." I murmured, hearing thundering footsteps come up the stairs, then running before Dean stopped in the doorway staring that the two of us with wide eyes. Sam coughed harshly, slowly rising to his feet, only to be pulled into another fierce hug by Dean, hearing him protest, "Dean, I'm fine, really."

I got up, trembling from all of the excitement to say the least, only to be pulled into the hug where Dean crushed us both. Judging from the heaving movements from his chest, Dean was scared for us both.

Despite that the four of us were now standing amongst the carnage of the poltergeist, we were all grateful that the extent of the attack had been a short-lived one. Standing beside Dean with my arm wrapped loosely around his waist, his was around mine in a tight protective manner.

Sam cast a quick onceover in the kitchen once more, "You sure this is over?"

Missouri nodded, "I'm sure." She responded, "Why? Why do you ask?"

Sam sighed, "Never mind. It's nothin', I guess." With a frown, I knew he felt like this wasn't over. Seeing his unsure look towards me, the front door opened signaling that Jenny had returned.

"Hello? We're home." She called out, approaching us and halted in her tracks upon seeing the condition of her kitchen, "What happened?"

"Hi, sorry. Um, we'll pay for all of this." Sam told her quickly. Dean gave him a confused look that clearly said 'we don't have the money for this.' I smiled lightly.

Missouri chuckled, "Don't you worry. Dean's gonna clean up this mess." She told Jenny. When Dean didn't budge, she threw him a heated look, "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop." It was almost laughable seeing the grudging glares sent to her from him when he let loose of my waist, "And don't cuss at me!" She reprimanded him, hearing muttering as he walked away.

Sam and I grinned sheepishly at all of the griping Dean received from Missouri, it was obvious he wasn't used to it. Looking back, it had always been Sam being griped at or yelled at. It was amusing to see this change, and judging Sam's smug appearance, anyone could tell that he was soaking it up!

Missouri pulled Jenny off into a different room explaining what had happened, reassuring whatever was here, was now gone. Taking another glance in the kitchen, Sam turned to me.

"You gotta tell me this isn't over," he murmured, "It just doesn't feel right."

Looking around another time, I sucked my bottom lip in, capturing it between my teeth in an anxious nibble, "I don't think it is, Sammy." I replied in a hushed tone, careful that Missouri nor Jenny heard us, "I think we need to lay low, keep an eye on the house and Jenny tonight."

Sam nodded, relieved that I had felt the same way as he did, "Yeah, I think so, too."

It had to have been a couple of hours later—sooner if Missouri hadn't shooed me away from trying to help Dean clean and pick things up—a relieved looking Jenny stood at her doorstep, waving to us as we left before closing the door behind us. We had just dropped off Missouri at her home when Sam insisted to Dean that we needed to sit outside of Jenny's house to keep an eye on her.

Much to his distaste, he conceded and here we were, sitting in the Impala in the chilly March night. Dean yawned, tossing around in the front seat, "Alright, so, tell me again," Dean spoke, "what are we still doin' here?"

Sam furrowed his brows from the passenger seat, "I don't know." He replied, "I just…I still have a bad feeling."

Dean shook his head a little, "What about you, Abs?"

I peeked up at him, then to Sam, "Yup."

"Why? You both saw that Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstien thing," An annoyed huff passed his lips, "The house should be clean, it should be _over_."

Sam put a hand to his temple, "Yeah, well, probably." He said, "But I just wanna make sure, that's all."

"Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now." He grumbled, sliding down in his seat, "You sure you don't wanna join me up here, Abs?" He asked, careening his neck to look at me. I smiled softly at him, shaking my head. Dean threw me a pout before he resumed his slouch in the front seat, closing his eyes. About the time I looked out of the window, I saw Jenny in the bedroom window, screaming. Sam startled beside Dean, who jumped at the sudden movement

"Dean. Look, Dean!" Sam said as we rushed out of the car and ran towards the house.

"You grab the kids, I'll get Jenny." Dean instructed us when we rushed into the house and upstairs. Sam and I split; him going to Sari's room, me going to Ritchie's. Picking up the screaming toddler, I cradled him against my shoulder protectively, shushing him as I met Sam in the hallway and followed him downstairs where I put Ritchie down. Sam kneeled looking at Sari with an intense look, "All right, Sari, take your brother outside as fast as you can, and don't look back." He directed her. She nodded, taking her brother in her arms. At that moment, an unseen force pulled my legs out from under me causing me to fall onto my back, my head bouncing off the ground when I was pulled into another room, colliding with a table.

"Abigail!" I heard him yell out from the other room.

I reached out for him, "_Sam_!" I heard a loud _thump_! Indicating that Sam had his legs pulled out from under him as well. Sari screamed and the sound of the front door slamming reverberated throughout the house. Sam was suddenly drug into the same room I was at, then slung against the cabinets.

"I swear to _God_ if you hurt him-!" I yelled out before being slung against the wall, denting the drywall. Falling to the ground, I held my back, writhing in the floor in pain. Sam stood up upon hearing my pained groans.

"Abigail!" Sam yelled out, eyes wide with fear. There were metallic thuds, the sounds of wood splintering upon impact where the front door would be as Sam was slammed up against the wall. It wasn't long either as I joined him on the wall, breathing heavily. Neither of us could move.

A figure enveloped in flames began advancing us.

Through the pain and newfound emotions stirring up, seeing through the flames, my eyes welled up with tears. Sam looked at me with wide eyes, then back to the figure, almost relaxing.

"_Sam? Abigail! Guys!"_ Dean called out in full-on panic mode, soon coming into the room where we stood. Carrying a rifle, Dean caught sight of the figure and pulled the weapon to his shoulder.

"No, don't! Don't!" We called out to him. Dean hesitated.

"What, why?" He asked, his gaze shifting from Sam to me.

With the look I gave him, he looked to the flaming figure, unsure, "Because I know who it is," I said.

"I-I can see her now." Sam said softly from my side, tears sparkling in his eyes. The fire enveloping the figure vanished. Standing before us, looking as hauntingly beautiful as she did the night she died, was Sam and Dean's mother, Mary. Inside my head, I could hear her screams and I started to cry, tears freely running down my face, seeing her standing before us.

The guarded look on Dean's face softened, almost pained as he slowly lowered his gun. His eyes welled with tears at the revelation, "Mom?"

Mary smiled to him, stepping closer to her son, "Dean," she said, placing a gentle hand to his face. He leaned into her touch with a guilt-ridden expression. Without another word, she walked away from him, Dean not taking his eyes off her as she came up to me. Looking down to my stomach briefly, she smiled at me knowingly nodding before finally looking to Sam, to her baby who was all grown up.

"Sam." She whispered. Sam, who was beside me, smiled weakly at his mother. Tears slid down his face as he laid eyes on his mother for the first time. Her smile faded, a sadden expression taking hold of her, "I'm sorry."

Sam blinked, "For what?" he asked. Without another word, Mary turned, walking away from the three of us and looked up at the ceiling with an intense look.

"You get out of my house. And let go of my son and the mother of my grandchild." She ordered, once again bursting into flames. My breath hitched in my throat, the flashback replaying once again as the flames reached the ceiling and disappeared. Sam was the first to be let go, then me. If it weren't for him, I would've fell. The whole room was silent, old memories had burst forth like a scab had been picked as we walked over to Dean. Silently, we shared a stunned look; glancing to the ceiling once more as Dean looked around the room frantically for his mother. But she was gone.

I gave him a soft squeeze on his shoulder, his tear-filled eyes falling to me. Sam let me go as Dean pulled me into an embrace.

"Now it's over." He said quietly.

_Next Morning_

Jenny and Dean were standing by the car, looking through old photos. Sam and I were sitting on the front step of the house, watching as he put the trunk of photos into the backseat. My back was absolutely killing me, I was sure the whole bunch of us were way past the point of being fatigued, and aside from having to throw up a few times…I was more relieved than anything else.

Missouri sidled in beside Sam. We looked to her, curious.

"Well, there are no spirits in there anymore, this time for sure." She stated.

"Not even my mom?" He asked. Missouri shook her head no, causing his expression to sag.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Mary's spirit and the poltergeist's energy, they cancelled each other out." She explained, looking at Sam, "Your mom destroyed herself goin' after the thing."

"Why would she do something like that?" He asked.

"Well, to protect her boys and grandchild, of course." Missouri replied. Sam nodded sadly, tears glittering in his eyes. She made a move to rest her hand on his shoulder and stopped, "Sam, I'm sorry."

Sam blinked, confused, "For what?"

"The two of you sensed it was here, didn't you? Even when I couldn't." Missouri said, looking to the both of us.

Sam looked spooked, "What's happening to me?"

Missouri shook her head, "I know I should have all the answers, but I don't know." He looked to me and I shrugged, this was news to me as well. More or less, I was more concerned for him than I was.

"Hey!" Sam and I looked to see Dean looking at us from the Impala, "You two ready?"

We nodded, getting up from the steps. Missouri gave me a hug before we started towards the car. Jenny thanked us as we passed by.

"Don't you three be strangers!" She called out to us.

Dean, wrapping his arm around me, looked back to her, "We won't." He replied, before opening the driver side passenger door, letting me in.

"See you around!" She called out once again. We all smiled at her before pulling away.

* * *

**A/N: Hello everyone! I'm so sorry about the wait, I have been so busy with Finals. I'd like to send a shout-out to alidaversa for running through and checking everything out for me! You're great and I can't thank you enough! ****This chapter was a toughie because of what went on and happened, so input about Dean and Abigail's fight, her nightmares, and Dean and Sam's conversation is greatly appreciated! I tried to write it out on how they would approach it.**

* * *

****As I have said before in previous chapters, please know that I am always open for new ideas, plots, schemes, tidbits of shows/movies that you'd like to see in this fanfic! All you gotta do is put it in your review and/or private message me! I am more than willing to talk it out with you!****

* * *

**ebonywarrior85\- Thank you for your kind words! I always love seeing your reviews! I do plan on putting a few scenes in future chapters soon, sadly there won't be any in the next chapter, Asylum and I'm hoping I can fit a quickie or something in Scarecrow. Just gotta go over it and determine what would be the best time for it. (;  
I think I will keep the story canon, however, I do feel like their past needs to be said as well. I know a few readers are dying for some back stories!**

**toridw317-Me too, I don't think she could've went on any longer from throwing up! She would've had to break down and go to a doctor, well, forced to go by Dean and Sam. I plan on writing some back-stories that go in depth on Dean and Abigail's relationship, so keep a lookout! (:**

**SassyGrl23\- Thank you! Like I told toridw317, I plan on writing some back-stories! Keep your eyes peeled! haha. **

**\- I am debating it as of right now. I have come up with a few ideas that end in good favor, and some not so good. Just keep a lookout!  
**

**Guest\- Awe! Thank you so much for the kind words! I wish I knew who you are so I can talk to you directly. It made my day to see your review! I hope to see more of you later on in the series! (:**

* * *

**I have so many thoughts and ideas running through my head right now, it's spinning! I can only imagine how John Winchester is going to react when they finally meet up with him! **I want your guys' opinions and suggestions as to how I should write it because it could swing either way. I've read several fanfics where John's not so bad about being a pompous douchebag and I've read some that make him out to be the worst possible person in the world. So, input on that is greatly appreciated as well!****

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles! **


	13. Asylum

**Disclaimer: I do not own the ****_Supernatural_**** franchise, except for Abigail and whatever non-canon plots, schemes, or scenes! (;**

* * *

April 2nd, 2006

I held my phone away upon hearing Kara's excited scream, slightly cringing from the shrill sound emitting from my cellphone speaker. Dean's eyes were widened with shock at her reaction to the news of my pregnancy while Sam had a highly amused expression.

"Do girl's really act like that?" Dean asked from the front seat of the Impala.

I shrugged, "I don't know, I was the exact opposite. Sam took it better out of the three of us." Sam's shoulder's shook as he laughed from the passenger seat.

"_How far along are you?_" Kara's voice floated across the speaker once more, sounding overly excited still. I hefted my shoulders into a shrug, knowing that she couldn't see it.

"_I_ really don't know." I admitted, "Not far, I guess."

"_You need to make a doctor's appointment then! If you guys can make it up here, I'll see what I can do! The doctor I go to is amazing!"_ She gushed. I looked up to Dean, who was watching me through the rearview mirror, then nodded.

"Uh, sure. Let me know somethin'." I said slowly, feeling uneasy about having to go to a doctor.

Kara made another excited noise, "_This is great! We can be pregnant buddies, given that I'm due to have Gavin in six weeks._" She laughed, "_But still! Oh, I can't believe that you're pregnant, Abby. You must be so excited._"

Sucking in my bottom lip, I chewed on it with a distasteful expression, "_Yeah_…?" I replied weakly, from the rearview mirror, I saw Dean furrow his brows that indicated he was uncomfortable about it, too.

"_I'll call you back as soon as I know somethin'._" Kara said with enthusiasm.

"Okay." I murmured, snapping the phone shut. Leaning forward, I rested my forehead against the back of the front seat, subconsciously bouncing my leg out of nervousness. The low rumbling of the Impala offered a soothing noise with the combination of Bad Company's _Shooting Star_ playing across the radio.

"Hey," I heard Dean say softly. I lifted my head, fully aware of the red imprint of the seat across my forehead, and looked at him. "You know you're not alone in this, right?"

Quietly, I looked to him and to Sam, then nodded, "I know…It's just…there is _so _many things goin' on right now that _this_—," I motioned to my stomach, "—came at possibly the worst of times _as of_ right now."

Dean quirked his head, agreeing. "You got that right," he mumbled, earning a dirty look from Sam.

"Guys, this baby isn't a bad thing." Sam butted in, "You two are looking at it the wrong way. Maybe this is something that we need in our lives."

"Looking at _what_ the wrong way, Sam?" Dean asked, "Forcing an innocent child into this lifestyle?" he countered, "_My_ child, to add to it?" Dean took one of his hands off the steering wheel to tap himself in the chest, "Sam, I get it that you're the only one out of us that is excited—I really do, man—," He put his hand back on the steering wheel, "but there are more problems that we need to address."

Sam worked his jaw in an odd way, giving Dean one of his infamous bitch faces, "You don't think I know this? We need to find Dad, yes. I know that. I'm worried sick about him, Dean. But you don't think that Abigail's pregnancy is in the least bit more important than searching for Dad right now?"

"Guys—," I began to protest, feeling that there was going to be a feud started between the two brothers.

"Abigail's pregnancy _is_ important." Dean cut in, "I'm not sayin' that it ain't. We're all in this together, but we still need to keep our heads straight in order to focus on Dad."

"Dean, will you—?" I started in once more.

Sam blinked before he situated himself in the passenger seat to face Dean, "Okay then, so what are we gonna do when it's time for the baby to come and we _still_ don't have a place to go?" I bit the inside of my cheek, looking over to Dean and surprisingly, I expected an answer. Sam made a valid point that I constantly thought about on a daily basis. In silence, I watched Dean's jaw worked oddly from where I was sitting at.

"We have the time to figure that out," he said, growing rather quiet. It had to bother him deeply knowing we didn't necessarily have an actual house to run to and call home. Instead, we had the Impala and ourselves. Motels were just a thing to pacify that emptiness of a home. We roamed the roads constantly searching for the next job to do, or wander into the next bar to hustle a game of pool or poker for our next handful of cash to get us by. Granted, I was loaded. I just didn't have access to it, nor do I think I would want it. Living the lifestyle that I had grown into, then possibly living the lifestyle I once did…it would be uncomfortable on many levels.

Amongst the two men up front arguing about the pregnancy, finding John, etcetera, etcetera, my phone buzzed to life once again, _Enter Sandman_, soon starting up. Dean halted in mid-sentence upon hearing it and he looked at me from the corner of his eye, along with Sam. Looking at the ID, it was Kara, again.

"Hey." I said, quickly turning it to speakerphone.

"_Hey, great news! I got you in!_" Kara said in a triumphant tone, "_You think you can be here by the fourth?_"

My mouth hung open, dumbfounded, "Of April?"

"_No, of December 2020_." She retorted, earning a snort of approval from Dean. "_Yes, April. Silly! The doctor's name is Leila Sakhai, she is really good._"

"_Greaat_," I said unenthusiastically, "Thanks."

Apparently not catching the sarcastic tone in my reply, she continued, "_It's at nine o'clock in the morning._"

Dean and I both groaned, "Who gets up that early?" I asked, earning an amused look from Sam that said, 'Uh, I do.' With furrowed brows, I swatted his shoulder making him laugh.

"_It's the only one I could talk them into doing, sorry. Plus, your days are numbered pretty mama. Your sleeping in days will be over after this baby's born._" Kara quipped with a laugh.

I scrubbed my face with my hand, "A'ight, then…We'll be there sometime tonight or tomorrow mornin'…Thanks again, Kara."

"_No problem!_" I snapped the phone shut, tossing it to the side, and blew out a sigh. I was so not ready for this or for the poking and prodding that I knew was going to join with the appointment.

* * *

_April 4__th__, 2006_

_Two Days Later_

_Charleston, West Virginia_

_CAMC Memorial Hospital—Women and Children's Center_

Dean fidgeted beside me, flipping through old _Women's Health Magazine_'s, _Parenting_ magazines, and a few children's books with pursed lips. Amused by his fidgeting, it actually calmed me down as to what I did feel upon walking in an almost filled to the brim waiting room with several women that were big bellied as a cow, some with children, some not.

Sam sat on the other side of me, smiling nervously to a single woman that was sitting across from him. I snickered, nudging Dean in the side to show him. Turning his head, he grinned, leaning over, "Heard that the sex was better that way," he whispered in my ear. I coughed in order to fight back a snort before I leaned over to whisper in his ear.

"Heard or watched?" I asked, "Because, I'm pretty sure we watched something with a pregnant woman getting ready to pop."

Dean's grin widened, causing wrinkles to form at the corners of his eyes, "_Pregnant and Horny Women 2,_ it wasn't too bad."

I grinned, "Figured it was something like that."

An older woman who was sitting across from us leaned forward with a kind smile, "First time?" she asked.

Dean and I sat up, shame-faced. Realizing the question, I swallowed hard and nodded, "Uh, yeah. First time."

She smiled rubbing her rotund stomach, "I'm on my fourth."

Dean gaped, "Wow, _four_?"

"Mhmm. The first is the hardest, but it's worth it in the end. How far along are you?" the woman asked.

"We, uh, just found out." Dean answered for me patting my thigh with a soft smile. Whether it was a genuine smile or a façade was to be determined to my imagination, but the woman fell for it. It wasn't long before the door that separated the waiting room from the rest of the examination rooms opened, everyone looked up from what they were doing; expecting to be called to come back.

A girl, not much older than me by a couple of years, dressed in light blue scrubs with floral print looked down to the chart she held in her arms before glancing up, "Abigail?"

My heart spiked and in an instant, my hand flew to Dean's arm where I squeezed it, a little too tight perhaps, but nonetheless, felt him direct my arm into his hands where he answered back with a small squeeze of reassurance. Looking at him, I stood up—followed by him and Sam. Dean turned to look at him awkwardly.

"Dude…really?" he asked.

Sam looked like a lost puppy, "What, I'm gonna sit out here?" He glanced back to the now smaller group of pregnant women that had been eyeing him, "Man, don't leave me out here."

Dean looked back to me then to the nurse who was looking at us expectantly, "Ah, fine."

With a pleasant smile, the nurse, whose nametag said 'Sabrina', stepped aside letting us three walk in, "So, who are these two lovely men with you today?"

I gulped, glancing nervously to Dean and Sam, "Uh, this is, uh, Sam." I motioned to Sam's direction where he smiled softly to her and nodded, "And this bow-legged beauty is Dean." I said, motioning to Dean; who puffed out like a proud rooster.

Sabrina smiled at Dean—a little _too_ sweetly if you asked me—as she led us down a hall and at the end there were scales and a seat where a counter-like table sat amongst the wall where a computer sat, "Alright, Abigail. I need you to step on the scales so we can weigh you."

I peeled off my jacket, handing it to Dean who handed it to Sam, and I stepped onto the scales. A sigh passed my lips as Sabrina fiddled with the scales, tapping the weights until it balanced out on one hundred and twenty even and put it into the computer.

I tilted my head in approval, feeling a little proud of myself. I gained a little bit of weight. Maybe this was a good thing, "Not bad." I commented, "I gained some aside from puking my guts out for a solid month."

Dean looked over my shoulder to see, and grinned, elated from the news, "That's awesome."

Sabrina looked at me, "You have a hard time gaining weight?"

I shrugged, growing ashamed, "Had some problems when I was in high school."

She nodded, "Eating disorders, disease, drug use?"

"Uh…two out of three." I replied, "Anorexia and drug use…been clean for seven years now."

Sabrina grinned, "That's great to hear. You must be proud."

"You have no idea," I said, glancing to Dean when Sabrina showed me to the chair beside the scales. He smiled, and I mean _smiled_, when I had said I was clean. If I had to explain proud and show you an emotion, I think the way Dean and Sam looked at me had been the definitions and made a prime example of that. A warm feeling pooled in my stomach, causing me to grow subconscious of myself and I tucked my hair behind my ears in order to avoid their gazes.

"You didn't exchange needles or anything did you?" She asked.

I blinked, "No. Nooo. Pills mostly."

Her blonde eyebrow arched, "Mostly?"

"I stuck with plain things…Weed, Soboxins, Hydrocodone, Valiums, Xanax's, an occasional LSD." I had grown uncomfortable having to let out my inner demons, I guess whatever helped me helping my unborn child. Sam's eyes widened as I listed off more prescriptions, Dean looked more or less angry and shocked. None of them knew the extent of my former substance abuse. Knowing Dean's stern look, he knew this was the time nor the place to chew me out.

"Is that all?" Sabrina asked.

I nodded, "Yeah…that's about it."

"Well, I'm proud of you to be able to beat your addiction," Sabrina said with a kind smile. I felt tears prick in my eyes, and I smiled a little in return. I've never heard anyone other than Dean tell me that.

"Thanks…"

"No problem." Sabrina then looked at the screen, "Any medical conditions that run in your family? Uh, any diabetes, heart disease, anything like that?"

I shook my head, "No, that I can remember. My parents have been dead for twelve years now."

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry." She said.

"It's fine, just wrong place at the wrong time, I guess." I answered. Jeez, I need to quit getting myself depressed. I think I surprised myself, Dean, and Sam as I blurted that out. I _hated_ talking about my family's death.

"Are you on any known medications as of right now?" Sabrina asked.

I shook my head, "No. I try to stay away from hospitals in general. I don't like them."

She giggled, "I think everyone's afraid of hospitals. I had to stay in the hospital once when I was little. Had to get my tonsils taken out."

"You got off easy," I said with an amused grin. Dean and Sam looked rather amused by that as well. The three of us could write a book about how many times we were landed in the hospital or had to be patched up. It was an ongoing list.

"So, other than vomiting, have you had any other symptoms?" Sabrina asked.

I shrugged, "Not entirely. Mornin' Sickness, my boobs constantly hurt—" I grinned upon seeing Sam furrow his brows at me, "What? I have to say this kinda stuff."

"I shoulda stayed out in the waiting room," he replied.

"Nothing's holding you back, baby brother." Dean said, "I have a feeling you don't want to be back here in a little bit."

I looked to Sabrina, "What's later?"

"We're gonna have to do some blood work, get a urine sample, do a usual PAP smear. Generally just basic tests to make sure that the baby isn't going to develop a genetic disorder and look for abnormalities." She explained, turning in the chair, "Maybe see if the doctor will take you back for an ultrasound to check on the baby as well and listen to its heartbeat."

My face had paled at the mention of blood work, "What about blood work?" Dean looked to Sam with an 'uh-oh' expression. Sam returned the look.

"It's a simple procedure." Sabrina assured, "We need to take three or four vials of your blood for testing."

I swallowed, rubbing my hands against my pant legs nervously, "With needles?"

Sabrina nodded, "Yes, with needles. It won't be but like a bee sting. Hardly nothing, I can assure you." I couldn't help but looked to Dean with a scrunched up face.

"In that case, you might need me and Sam to sit on her," Dean said, "She totally bugs out on needles." Sabrina laughed at his joke, furthering his flirtatious lop-sided smile as a pink tint flushed across her face where she looked down coyly. I frowned, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about this exchange.

"I didn't know he was so funny," Sabrina said, "You must be happy to have a guy like him."

I nodded, "Yeah, he's pretty great." I glanced to Dean, seeing the look of endearment residing in those intoxicatingly beautiful eyes of his as he folded his arms across his chest.

"You guys must be so excited, was this planned?" She asked.

"Uh, not exactly…" I admitted, "This just kinda jumped on us. I was on the pill, but—" I motioned over my stomach, "Didn't exactly work as you can see."

"How bad do you stress during work?" Sabrina asked.

I blinked, searching Dean's face for an answer. Truthfully, the stress could be enough to kill a person. He shrugged at me, looking to Sam for an answer as well, "Not too bad," I lied, "We work hard some days, and others…it's like a little vacation."

Sabrina smiled, "I _love_ going on vacations. I go to Myrtle Beach."

"I've been all over," I replied. When Sabrina stood up, I stood up.

"That's cool. Uh, okay, I'm going to show you to your examination room and the doctor will be in shortly." She said, leading us to a room where we stepped in and Sabrina closed the door. I stood, leaning against the examination table where Dean had plopped himself, guiding me to stand between his leg.

"Bow-legged beauty?" Dean asked, amused.

I shrugged, "It's the truth." We all shared a laugh until we grew silent.

"I didn't realize that you were on that many drugs," Sam said suddenly. I frowned, feeling my chest clench painfully, "Why didn't you tell someone it was that bad?"

"I didn't realize it was that bad until I listed them off," I admitted, "I don't want either of you thinking that had something do with you. It wasn't." I leaned slightly to peer at Dean. I knew he was already beating himself up over it. "I mean it."

Sam nodded slowly, "Seven years?"

"Yeah." I replied, confused. Sam looked to Dean.

"How long have you guys been together?" He asked.

Dean shrugged, "I dunno. Seven…years?" He blinked, looking down at me in realization. I had quit for him. Granted it was a struggle and a half when I did quit, but I achieved it. "Abigail, you didn't have to quit for me." He said softly, reaching out to stroke my cheek.

"I did it to better myself and I decided that it wasn't worth having when I had you." I said, "Chick-flick moment, I know, but couldn't really say it without it." Sam snorted from the swivel chair he was in.

The wait in the examination room didn't really take long. The doctor, Leila Sahkai, came in all smiles. In short, she went over what she wanted to do; that being a pee test, blood test, Pap smear, and an abdominal exam to have an estimation on how far along I was. Though, she did want to do an ultrasound—which, I was kinda excited about. Dean and Sam seemed a little intrigued by it as well.

* * *

_Later_

I found myself sitting at a chair, looking around nervously. Fucking blood work. I worked my leg on overdrive while Dean stared me down with mild annoyance. Sam had went back out to the waiting room upon me having to get dressed down for the pap smear after the blood work.

"You're going to be fine," he said.

"It's freaking needles," I countered, "I'll gladly trade you."

Dean shook his head, "Oh come on, the needle isn't that big."

"It's not small either." I quipped, eyeing a little tray that Sabrina had carried in.

"Quit being a baby." Dean said. I felt the blood drain out from my face seeing a long tube and a green capped needle from its sterile casing. _Oh damn_.

"Hold out your arms," Sabrina instructed. Hesitantly, I did so, exposing the bluish veins where she leaned forward to examine them. Upon opening a pack of alcohol prep pads, she tapped my left arm a few times and rubbed her fingers across the protruding vein, "This one looks really good." She said, then brought the pad across it, "You'll only feel a pinch."

I let out a whine, "Do we really need to do this?" I asked.

Sabrina laughed, "Yeah, we gotta."

Dean chuckled, "Big fearless Abigail afraid of a tiny needle."

My eyes narrowed at him, "Shut up, Dean." I cringed upon feeling my stomach flip. _Not now_, I thought. "Ohhh, God." Dean blinked, growing wary.

"What is it?" he asked.

I scrunched my face, "I think I'm gonna hurl."

Dean's eyes widened, "Not here you won't."

Sabrina smiled, "This won't take a minute." The sound of the sterile casing opening alerted me as I watched her take the needle out. My stomach flopped again. _Oh sweet baby Jesus_. I pleaded in my head. I couldn't help but watch as Sabrina took the tip of a pen and made an indention where she wanted the needle to go in. A small whimper escaped and I looked away, squeezing my eyes shut. There was a small pinch—that felt worse than that—and I couldn't help but gag.

"Oh, no you don't." I heard Dean say, hearing him fumble around in the room and heard the sound of a garbage can rustle. I gagged again.

"Just one second," Sabrina said slowly before the feeling of the needle being taken out overwhelmed me and pressure against my arm, "Just hold this." She said. I did so with one hand, while I grabbed the garbage can with the other and let everything fly. Dean stood back with an entirely grossed out expression on his face where he started to gag a little. _Yeah, not so hot now, big boy._ I thought, upon seeing him. I spit a couple of times and looked at Sabrina apologetically.

"Sorry," I murmured.

She smiled at me, "Oh don't feel bad, I see it all the time. It varies with different girls."

I nodded, running my hand over my face, "I hope this goes away."

"It usually does. Sometimes it doesn't. Just depends."

"Lovely." I said, dryly.

The abdominal exam and Pap smear had been an…eventful experience. Dean looked absolutely terrified for me to have even gone through it, though, he stood directly behind the doctor the entire time just to look. _Not weird at all, Dean._

Dr. Sakhai took of her gloves, tossing them into the disposal bin, "So you are approximately eight weeks even. I would like to do an ultrasound in order to take a look at the baby's heartbeat—" She grinned, "Maybe even take some profile snapshots for you guys to keep?"

Dean and I exchanged a glance, "Yeah, sure." He answered, a little too quickly for my taste.

Dr. Sakhai nodded, "If you want, you can bring the uncle in as well."

I looked to Dean, "That'd be great. I think he'd like it."

Dean smirked, "Yeah, be the highlight of his day, aside from being looked at by horny pregnant women." I gaped as he didn't waste time leaving the room. I looked back at the doctor, who was laughing.

"I am so sorry," I gushed, "He isn't usually this bad about things."

Dr. Sakhai waved at me dismissively, "He's just curious about things. All men are. I've seen several pass out by just watching the women have blood work done." I blinked in amazement, though it would've been amusing to have seen Dean do something like that, "Sabrina will be back in shortly once one of the rooms opens up." I nodded, watching as she walked out of the room. Getting up from the table, I padded over to the sink where I grabbed a handful of paper towel and ran it quickly over my lady bits before I tossed them into the trash. Turning, I padded back over to the table and picked up my jeans and panties, stepping into them casually and buttoned them up, pulling my shoes back on.

By the time I was done, Dean and Sam had come back.

"You're not naked or anything are you?" Dean asked, peeking behind the curtain with a boyish grin. I arched a brow at him.

"Do I look like it?" I asked.

He pushed the curtain back to where Sam could see me, "I was gonna say, Abs. You'd scar poor Sammy for life."

I picked up my jacket and slung it at him with a playful scoff, "Yeah, right you ass." Dean caught the jacket swiftly, laughing.

"Relax, babe." He said, crossing the room to me.

"So, what's next?" Sam asked.

"The ultrasound, I guess," I replied with a subtle shrug. I was more than ready to leave by now. I'm sure Dean and Sam was too.

Not even five minutes later, Sabrina poked her head through the door with a smile, "We're ready for you."

I swallowed a lump. Finally, I get to see the tiny little thing that had been wreaking havoc on my body. The tiny little thing that was going to be the center of mine and Dean's life for the next eighteen plus years of our lives (should we live that long).

We followed Sabrina into another room, much darker and a little more cramped in space. There was an exam table that was tilted upwards a little ways, a large screen facing the table with equipment hanging off of it, and then a larger television screen hanging off the wall. Sabrina sat down at the chair, typing in things, "Have you a seat and lay down. Pull up your shirt a little bit and unbutton your jeans."

Dean looked rather amused at the orders she was giving me, I quirked my head to the side before reconciling and propped myself on the hard as rock bed. I lifted up my shirt to below my ribcage and unbuttoned my jeans to where they exposed the better half of my lower abdomen. Sabrina looked.

"I need them a little bit lower, if you don't care." She said. I threw an apologetic look to Sam, as he turned—his back facing me. I lifted my hips off the table where I slid my jeans down slightly along with my panties. Lying back down, Sabrina thanked me and pulled out a large napkin looking thing. She tucked it into my jeans and underwear before pulling out a bottle of clear jelly.

"This might be a little cold," She said and squeezed. I jumped from the initial shock of the cold substance, letting a small yelp escape. Dean, who was sitting beside me, broke out into a chuckle as the three of us watched her take a small, handheld wand and began smoothing out the jelly across my lower abdomen.

A black and white image popped up on the screens where a loud static noise caused everyone but Sabrina to jump a little. Through the grainy-looking black and white image that had made absolutely no sense to me whatsoever, Sabrina smiled at some image she had come to and clicked the mouse with her freehand.

A loud whooshing sound came across the speakers, like a rhythmic patter. It was strong, full of life and it was instantaneous when tears pricked my eyes. It was familiar to me from going to my mother's prenatal visits when she was pregnant with Michael and Shelby, and finally Alyssa.

"Is-is that the heartbeat?" I asked quietly, staring at a blob moving quickly, glancing every now and then to the information. Sabrina looked surprised at me, and grinned.

"Yes it is," She replied. I looked over to Dean and Sam. Dean looked paler than what I could imagine I was. His eyes were wide with astonishment and wonder, they seemed to be glittering in the light. I noticed his breathing had gotten quicker, almost like he had run a marathon and he was trembling. Frowning, I reached out to him searching for his hand where he looked at me, taking my hand and squeezed, looking to me with a smile.

Sam was fixated on the screen, tears glittering in his eyes. He was grinning from ear to ear, laughing quietly at the sound. Realizing that he was crying, Sam quickly ran his hand across his face to wipe the tears away.

"It's heartbeat is very nice and strong," Sabrina murmured, moving the device across my abdomen where the swooshing got louder and the image was obscured until there was an oblong shape, black in the center of that, and in the center of that…a blip.

Dean leaned forward, scrunching his face at the images on the screen, "What is that?"

"This—" Sabrina said, circling the mouse around the oblong shape, "—is the uterus. This—" she said, waving the mouse within the black of my uterus, "—is the amniotic fluid." She smiled, circling the mouse around the blip, "And this is the baby." Dean leaned back, eyes never leaving the blip. He watched it as it would twitch every now and then, the swooshing sound of its heart sounding across the speakers still. I could feel him stroking my hand with the pad of his thumb, eyes glittering with tears now as well.

"That's the baby?" he asked softly, looking at the blip and to Sabrina for confirmation, "That's a human being?" She nodded with a smile as she watched him look back at the blip with awe. I placed my freehand over my mouth to choke back a sob. If there wasn't anything left in this world that I could love more than Dean or Sam or John or my family, it was this little blip. _My _little blip. That little blip was a creation of me and Dean.

Dean reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone where he flipped it open, pressed a button and held it up to the screen. I looked at him quizzically, "I wanted to record its heartbeat." He said sheepishly. I smiled at him, before I turned back to the screen.

The three of us watched in awe as Sabrina maneuvered across the screen, taking measurements, snapshots, explained to us where the head was and showed us the beginnings of its tiny feet, arms, and legs. When the ultrasound came to an end, I didn't want to leave knowing that the little blip inside me was moving around. Sabrina leaned over, tearing a long line of paper and folded it up; handing it to me, "Here's you a copy of your first ultrasounds. I'll meet you at the front desk so we can make you another appointment in four weeks."

Dean snatched the ultrasounds out of my hands, "Hey!" I whined out.

"You'll see them in a little while." He countered as Sam peered over his shoulder to look at them too, grinning from ear to ear.

In spite of our relatively short stay at Charlie's and Kara's, we had to get back on the road and look for John after Dean receiving a text from him. It was a simple message; coordinates to a place in Rockford, Illinois where we later found out that a cop by the name of Walter Kelly had come home from his shift, shot his wife and in return, turned the gun on himself. The lovely chill factor for little old me was that they had a visit to a looney bin named the Roosevelt Asylum. And just like that, the joyous gathering of brotherly love had gone out the window, and the bickering and bitch faces had begun.

Not a dull moment with the Winchester brothers, that was for sure.

* * *

_The Old Terminal Pub-Night_

_Rockford, Illinois_

_Dean's Point of View_

Abigail decided to stay behind in the Impala while Sammy and I went ahead to ask Kelly's former partner, Daniel Gunderson a couple of questions. Sam had drifted off into the bar to blend in while I caught sight of a lone man dressed in a distressed brown leather jacket sitting at the bar, staring down the neck of his beer.

Approaching him, I leaned onto the bar, "You're Daniel Gunderson." I said, catching the cop's attention, "You're a cop, right?"

Skeptical, he nodded, "Yeah."

"Huh. I'm uh, Nigel Tufnel, The Chicago Tribune." I told him catching the wary gaze from him, "Mind if I ask you a couple of questions, about your partner?"

"Yeah, I do. I'm just tryin' to have a beer here." Gunderson replied.

"That's okay, I swear it won't take that long." I pressed, "I just want to get the story in your words."

Gunderson was quiet for a moment, "A week ago, my partner was sitting in that chair." He explained, "Now he's dead. You gonna ambush me here?"

I frowned, "Sorry. But I need to know what happened."

Out of nowhere, someone shoved me out of my seat roughly only to hear, "Hey buddy, why don't you leave the poor guy alone!" I blinked, realizing that it was Sam. His mouth was pursed in an angry way, motioning to Gunderson, "The man's an officer! Why dontcha show a little respect!" We stared at each other for a moment, when I just walked off to hear the small exchange between the two.

"You didn't havta do that."

"Yeah, course I did. That guy's a serious jerk. Let me buy you a beer, huh?" By the time I had walked out the door, the rest of their conversation had been drowned out by the jukebox in the corner. Fuming, I shoved my hands into my pockets upon feeling the crisp night air, and spotted Abigail sitting on the hood, bowed over as she held something in her hands.

"Hey you." I said.

Abigail jumped from being startled. The hood of the Impala popped slightly under her weight as she looked up at me with wide eyes, only to calm down and smile at me, "Oh. Hey, you."

As I approached her, her smile wavered and she put whatever was in her hands into her lap, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing I can't handle, babe," I replied with a smile to throw her off. With a simple arched brow, I knew she knew something was up. Hiding anything from Abigail was near impossible, maternal instincts were strong in her from the get-go. She slid over, patting the area she was once at for me to sit with her. Reconciling, I leaned on the quarter-panel with my back facing her.

It wasn't long that Abigail had slid back to her spot, and I felt the pressure of her head resting against my back. I smiled softly at the gesture.

"Whatever Sam did, I'm sure he didn't mean it." Abigail spoke quietly.

I turned my head to look over my shoulder, "How'd you know?"

"Been with you two for twelve years. I know when the two of you have a pissing match." She replied smugly. I fully turned, seeing that she was holding the ultrasounds from earlier. Warmth flooded within my chest as we both stared at the images in the dim light, "I still can't believe that we're gonna be parents."

I nodded, wrapping an arm around her, "Yeah, me too." I reached out, taking one of the ultrasounds and stared at the little blob that is supposed to be a human being, and tapped the image against the palm of my hand, "To think this is going to be a kid in a few months."

Silently, Abigail nodded, her brows creasing with worry. Seeing this, I frowned. I pulled her into an embrace where she was still comfortable on the hood. Abigail laid her head against my chest, her hand finding its way up to my amulet—feeling the strand dig into the back of neck with slight pressure.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you," I murmured, "You're not alone in this."

She nodded into my chest, "I know…it's just—" I watched her pull back away from me, "I'm _so_ scared that I'm gonna wind up in labor and you and Sammy not bein' there."

"We won't." I told her with sincerity in my voice, "The home stretch of this, you won't leave my sight."

A smirk cracked through on her lips, "Oh really?"

"Yes, really. It'll be so, you'll be glad to get rid of me." I joked.

Then in a split second, she frowned, "That won't happen."

I was floored by the sincerity of her response. She stared up at me with a chastising look and I smiled at her, pulling her into another embrace, "Good." I whispered into her ear. Upon the sound of the door to the bar slamming open and someone approaching us, I turned and Abigail leaned over to side; seeing that it was Sam.

"Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy." I commented.

"I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting." Sam replied quickly, rounding the front of the car.

Abigail furrowed her brows and twisted her body around to look at him, "Huh?"

He didn't elaborate, taking note of our blank and confused expressions, "Never mind."

Abigail slowly slid off the hood of the Impala to stand, "What'd you find out from Gunderson?" she asked.

Sam rested his arms on the roof of the Impala, "So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him."

I placed a hand at the small of Abigail's back, "What about at home?"

"He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids." Sam replied.

Abigail and I both frowned. Running a hand over my mouth, I nodded, "Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him."

Sam looked at us with an agreeing nod, "Right."

"What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?" I asked.

"A lot." He replied.

* * *

_Roosevelt Asylum—Day_

_Abigail's Point of View_

Asylums. Have I mentioned that I _hated_ these places? With a small grunt, I hopped the fence with Sam on the other side to catch me; courtesy of Dean making him. Taking one look at the old rundown loony-bin, I scrunch my face with a distasteful grimace.

"You can always sit in the car, scaredy-cat." Dean teased.

I threw him a glare, "I'm not _scared_. Just uncomfortable."

"Yeah, sure." He replied in a teasing manner as we ascended the stairs and found an open door. We walked in, eyeing the interior.

Just within the one room we were standing in, it looked like a total warzone. Broken chairs and plaster littered the place. It was gritty, aged, and graffiti lined the peeling walls. Empty wine bottles, as well as an assortment of empty pill bottles laid around in the open. What sunlight broke through the boarded up windows, and grated windows, it just gave the eerie ambiance a multiplication of at least a hundred.

Sam turned, pointing to a door, "So apparently the cops chased the kids here...into the south wing."

Dean looked up at the sign, "South wing, huh? Wait a second," He murmured 'south wing' a few times, pulling out John's journal and flipped through several pages, "1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."

Looking at the broken out windows to the place, I shoved my hands into my pockets, "So whatever's goin' on, the south wing is the heart of it."

"But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?" Dean asked, glancing up at me from the journal.

"Looks like the doors are usually chained." Sam took note of the broken and rusted down chain, "Could've been chained up for years."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, to keep people out." Then nudged me with a teasing grin, "Or to keep something in." I rolled my eyes at him as the two boys looked at each other before Sam pushed the door open. Walking down the hall, it made me realize that this was the perfect place for a horror movie.

"Reminds me of that _Death Tunnel_ movie, Sci-Fi had on." Dean said, continuing the teasing. I looked back at him frowning.

"_Really _guys?" I whined out, swatting my hand at Dean's sleeved arm. The two of them chuckled, the sound of them reverberating throughout the weathered halls. What I didn't tell them were how many spirits I saw, running amongst the place willy-nilly. That's what made me hate abandoned loony-bins.

Dean was on a roll, and he showed Sam and me no mercy, "Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel and Melinda Gordon."

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean after he side-stepped an old wheelchair, "Dude, enough."

Dean feigned an innocent look and laughed, "I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you two have going on. Since the two of you has it, it's only a matter of time before you're noticed."

Sam, who looked clearly fed up, turned to him, "I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, whatever." He lifted his arms in a defensive manner, "Don't ask, don't tell." Dean looked down at his EMF reader. Sam looked to me for back up. I could've been mean to him and not help, but seeing how my patience had wore thin with Dean's insistent rambling and crude humor, I decided to cut him a break.

"You get any reading on that thing or not?" I quipped, motioning to his EMF reader. He glanced at it and shook his head, earning me a light-hearted smile from him.

"Nope." He replied, popping the 'p', "Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home. You see anything?"

I looked around, seeing nothing for now and shook my head, "Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day."

"Yeah, the freaks come out at night." Dean added.

Sam continued to look around, "Yeah."

We were all silent for a few beats until Dean started back up, "Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?" He deadpanned.

Sam said nothing only to push Dean, causing him to laugh as we pressed further into the asylum. Walking into another room, I stopped causing Dean to run into me.

"Jeez, warn us next time you hit the breaks, Abs." Dean quipped as I looked over my shoulder apologetically. In this room, I couldn't say I hated it even more than the last. It must've been an examination room of sorts. Due to the yellowed organ filled jars lying about, not to mention the creepy looking headless doll lying beside them, and the strap down chair/electro-shock amplifier, this could've have been any worse. Dean looked around and let out a low whistle when I finally moved.

"Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies." He said, looking around the room, "They did some twisted stuff to these people. Kinda like my man Jack in _Cuckoo's Nest._" He added, making crazy eyes at Sam, who ignored him. His smile dropped, only to watch me step gingerly around, and bent over to inspect some of the jars with a grossed out expression. He leaned slightly, tilting his head to the side, as he assessed my rear-end, "So. Whaddaya think?" Dean asked, earning a look from me, "Ghosts possessing people?"

I shrugged, looking back to the jars, "Maybe."

Sam turned, "Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting."

"Spirits driving them insane." He said with a grin, "Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining." I couldn't help but smile to the yellowed liquid jars hearing his light-heartedness within his voice. That was him, always trying to lighten the mood. There we were, standing in another bout of an awkward silence until Dean's boots scraped against the floor where he approached my side to look at the jars as well.

"Dean." Sam said, getting us both to turn and look at him, "When are we going to talk about it?"

He looked at his brother perplexed, "Talk about what?"

"About the fact Dad's not here." Sam stated quietly.

"Oh. I see." He said nonchalantly, "Uh, never."

"I'm being serious, man. He sent us here..."

"So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later." Dean replied quickly, seeming to be uncomfortable about having to talk about John.

Sam approached Dean, "It doesn't matter what he wants."

"See. That attitude? Right there?" Dean asked, "That is why Abigail and I always got the extra cookie."

Sam didn't back down, "Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean." Dean looked away, seeming a hundred and twelve percent done with the conversation, "I mean, this is our family we're talking about."

Dean looked back to him, "I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order."

"So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?" Sam asked.

"Of course we do." Dean replied.

"What about when Abigail has the baby? What will you do then if Dad has an order?" Sam began, trying to instigate an argument.

He shrugged with nonchalance, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Sam gave him a frustrated look, glancing over to me with the same for not saying my input. Dean stared at Sam for a moment, then turned away thusly, ending the conversation. I gave him a stern look telling him that I didn't want in the middle of this before I went back to poking around the room.

I heard the flip of a switch as Dean flipped on the amplifier, jerking his hand back as a precaution before picking up an old placard and turned it over, "_Sanford Ellicott_…" I heard him read out, touching the grimy old doll, only to hear a child laughing somewhere off in the distance, causing me to let go of it and turned to head out of the room. "You know what we gotta do." Dean turned with the placard in hand, "We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here." As he walked by Sam, he placed the placard in Sam's arms and walked out of the room with me, leaving him behind.

* * *

_Creekview Medical Center_—Day

Sam had been volunteered—more like forced—to be the shrink's guinea pig while Dean and I stayed outside of the medical center, leaned up against the wall. Dean's reasoning is that he doesn't like them and mine…well, Dean wouldn't let me, claiming that they would've had a field day on me. Which was probably true, given the recent events of my pregnancy, the nightmares, and now seeing things once I enter or touch certain objects.

Why I haven't told either of them yet proved to be a little more tougher since Dean had been relentless on Sam and I calling us the 'Psychic Twins'. So I guess I could say, I avoided telling him that like the plague. It seemed like hours had gone by, when in reality, an hour had passed by. Dean looked like he was about to go in there and get Sam, regardless of the conversation, solely because he was getting hungry. For the first time in a month, I was getting pretty voracious myself.

The door to the building opened as we turned, seeing Sam walk out. "Dude! You were in there forever. What the hell were you talking about?" Dean asked as we both caught up to him and matched his pace. Sam looked back at us, saying nothing for a short time, only to shrug.

"Just the hospital, you know." He said in short.

"And?" I queried, throwing Dean a curious glance.

"_And_ the south wing?" Sam asked, "It's where the housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane."

Dean nodded, "Sounds cozy."

"Yeah." Sam replied, "And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other."

I blinked, "So the patients took over the asylum?"

"Apparently." Sam replied.

"Any deaths?" Dean asked.

He nodded as we crossed the parking lot and halted at the trunk of the Impala, "Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott."

Dean furrowed his brows, "Whaddaya mean, never recovered?"

"Cops scoured every inch of the place but I guess the patients must've—," Sam scrunched his face, "...stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden."

Dean and I contorted our faces at the grim discovery, "That's grim." Dean commented.

"Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down." Sam finished.

I folded my arms, tilting my head upon listening to the information that Sam had uncovered, "So," I began, "to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies."

Sam nodded, "And a bunch of angry spirits."

Dean cocked his head with a mordant expression, "Good times. Let's check out the hospital tonight."

* * *

_Roosevelt Asylum—Night_

Hours had passed that consisted of research at the library, lunch—to which Dean had greater pleasure seeing me eat, than him actually eating, and a short nap. Once night had fallen, we were back at it again. Much to Dean and Sam's protesting, since I ate and all, I tagged along with them. And this time, I was aghast at the sprits that roamed the place.

I glanced around, taking note of each worn, tired, and expressionless face as we passed each one. Dean and Sam looked at me, noticing how I would look over my shoulder or turn my body to fully look at something. Sam handed me a video camera since it was the least lethal thing and I couldn't get hurt with it while he manned the flashlight and Dean held his EMF meter.

"Getting readings?" Sam asked, flashing the light onto the meter.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, bit time."

I looked through the video camera's screen, and looked up to see the actual spirit's, "This place is orbing like crazy."

Dean glanced, "You sure orbing?"

I pressed my lips into a thin line, "There's multiple sprits out and about, if you must know."

"Great." He replied, glancing around subconsciously now.

"And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting..." Sam trailed off.

Dean nodded, "We gotta find 'em and burn 'em. Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer." I frowned, not liking the feeling I was getting as we walked further down the hallway.

Suddenly, there was a rush of energy that caused me to whirl around, eyes widened. Dean and Sam whirled around as soon as I did, alerted.

"You see anything?" Dean asked, looking around warily. I scanned both the camera and without it, _knowing_ and _feeling_ something was for sure there. And it was bad.

"No." I whispered getting a little ahead of myself, "This place is literally freakin' me out."

Dean wordlessly grabbed my hand as he directed me between Sam and him. It was times like this that made me appreciate how protective he was. Especially if he knew I was iffy about a location. We went throughout the asylum, ever watchful of anything and everything. If I would shy away from something, Dean and Sam would maneuver themselves in order to put whatever I shied away from, between them and me.

After a while, I had gotten braver as we broke off from each other, though stayed within each other's sight, as in Sam and Dean would go into a room, or Dean and me, or Sam and me. This time however, they were in a different room and I had ventured into another one, holding my own flashlight.

Stepping over broken glass, I looked everywhere but the camera, but when I did, my heart stopped and my blood froze within my veins. In the video lens, was a white-haired old woman. Looking up, she approached me with her one eye in, one eye out appearance arms, reaching out. I let out a shrill scream, "Dean?! Sammy?!" Dean and Sam came flying into the room upon hearing my screams, seeing the woman. A curse came from Dean as he rummaged through his bag, "Shotgun!"

"Abigail, get down!" Dean shouted, shouldering the weapon. Without thinking, I hit the ground with my knees and hands, giving Dean the opportunity to aim and fired. Upon unloading a round of rock salt, the ghastly woman disintegrated as I looked up and around me, gasping. I hadn't realized I was trembling until Dean and Sam pulled me up to assess the extent of my injuries.

"Jesus Christ, Abigail, are you alright?" Sam asked, noticing my scraped hands and knees.

Dean held my shoulders, assessing me with concerned eyes. When I didn't say anything, he shook my slightly, "Abs, say something."

I blinked a couple of times, looking to Dean and Sam, "I'm-I'm fine." I stammered out, feeling my knees get weak from the massive amount of adrenaline that had shot through me. Dean pulled me into an embrace, kissing my temple.

Sam looked to where the woman stood, "That was weird."

Dean caressed the back of my hand and nodded, "Yeah. You're telling me." He pulled me away from him slightly, "You good?"

I swallowed down a lump in my throat. I had to be strong. With a not-so-believable nod, I lifted the video camera, only to curse inwardly at how badly my hands shook. Sam gently took the device out of my hands, offering a soft kiss to the temple. I bit the inside of my cheek to the point it was bleeding in order to prevent angry tears from bursting forth. Dean kept me within arm's distance as we began to move out of the room.

"No, Dean, I mean it was weird that she didn't attack Abigail." Sam said.

Dean scoffed, "Look pretty agro from where I was standing."

"Abigail, she didn't try anything did she?" Sam asked, looking to me intently.

"No…she didn't hurt me. She didn't even try." I replied, forcing myself to think after the fright, "She just scared the piss out of me."

"So if she didn't wanna hurt you, then what did she want?" Dean asked.

A noise alerted us in a room as we passed. Immediately, Dean shouldered the shotgun and Sam put me behind him, raising the flashlight. Dean and Sam glanced at me before moving into the room, approaching the metal bed that was on its side, covered in a ragged sheet. The both of them were bracing themselves upon noticing a blonde head behind it. Slowly, I crept up with them as Sam reached out and tipped the bed over.

Frightened, a girl that had been crouching and facing the corner, spun around at us, terrified and gasping with her hands raised.

"It's alright, we're not gonna hurt you." I said quickly, stepping between Sam and Dean, "it's okay. What's your name?"

With wide eyes, she slowly got up, "Katherine. Kat."

I nodded, "Okay. I'm Abigail. This is Dean," I motioned my hand to him as he lowered the shotgun, "And this is Sam." I said, motioning my hand to Sam.

"What are you doing here!?" Sam demanded.

She bowed her head, "Um. My boyfriend, Gavin."

"Is he here?" Dean asked.

"Somewhere." She replied as Dean gave Sam a look that said, 'is she serious?' I frowned at her, "He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just...you know. Pretend." Kat said, "I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and..."

Dean cut her off, "Alright. Kat?" When she nodded, he motioned for her to come with us, "Come on. Abigail's gunna get you out of here and then we're gunna find your boyfriend." I shot him a dirty look, only to have a mutual one returned.

"Why?" I asked.

"No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you." Kat retaliated, her eyes widening further.

"Because you're _pregnant _and we've already had a close call," He bit out, then turned to her, "And it's no joke around here, okay? It's dangerous." His eyes met mine with overall concern, "For the both of you."

Kat remained in her spot ever defiant, "That's why I gotta find him."

I motioned to her, agreeing, "Yeah, what she said. We gotta find him."

Dean worked his jaw oddly, turned to look at Sam, who shrugged. Defeated, more or less ganged up on, he nodded, "Alright, I guess we gunna split up then. Let's go." Kat gave me a look of thanks as we filed out of the room.

Much to Dean's chagrin, we had split up; Sam and me, Dean and Kat. With the reassurance that I wouldn't leave baby brother's sight for no reason at all.

Having gone our separate ways, Sam and I wandered around.

"Gavin?" I called out, looking amongst the weathered and aged things lying about.

"Gavin?" Sam called out as well. We peered into empty rooms; not-so empty in my opinion. I made a face upon seeing a man sitting in a wheelchair, strapped in a straight-jacket. I moved closer to Sam, who looked back at the wheelchair, "What do you see?"

I looked up at him, "You know that scene in the Exorcist where Reagan's head is spinning around?" He nodded, getting the idea, "Yeah, well, the guy sitting in that chair's making a good replication of it."

He furrowed his brows, looked to the empty chair and urged me along, throwing glances every now and then. "I can't imagine seeing what you see."

I glanced at him, "Be glad you can't, Sammy." We stopped by a room, "Gavin?"

Sam shined the flashlight in, "Gavin, you in there?" Coming up empty, we walked on.

"So, can you keep a secret?" I asked, knowing he'd say yes.

"Yeah, of course, why?" He asked me. I stopped, holding my hand out to make him stop.

Letting my arm fall, I popped my knuckles on my hand, "I'm starting to see things."

He chuckled, "We know that, Abigail."

I shook my head, "No, Sammy. As in, if I walk into a room or touch a certain object, I can see what has happened in the past."

His smile faded, "What?"

I bowed my head to look at the dirty ground, "It's happened three times."

"When?"

"Yesterday when we went into that examination room…that creepy decapitated doll?" I asked. He took a moment to think and nodded, "Heard a kid laughing from somewhere, then saw bright-lights…freaked me out. Went into a room, saw a group of doctors and nurses hold a guy down while they strapped him to a gurney." Sam's brows creased, growing worried. "The first time it's _ever_ happened to me…it was in Lawrence. When we were in your old room."

Sam said nothing. Around us, the building popped and creaked and groaned with age, "What'd you see?"

Tears filled my eyes, "Everything. I tried to make it stop. I tried so hard, Sammy." I said, ignoring that my voice had cracked. He pulled me into a tight embrace, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

"Why didn't you tell me or Dean?" he asked.

"I was going to, when it happened again yesterday," I replied, "But Dean was carrying on about us being the 'Psychic Twins' and whatnot, it just made me not want to say anything."

Sam nodded, squeezing me tightly before he stepped back, "I won't tell him, Abigail." He assured.

I nodded, wiping rogue tears from my eyes, "I know, Sammy. Thank you."

He nodded, "Come on, we need to find Gavin."

Sam and I continued on, upon entering another room. I stopped, "Sam!" I said. He stepped in, ready for whatever had caught my attention. Seeing Gavin on the ground unconscious, he crouched to Gavin's side and shook him.

Gavin awoke, only to freak out.

"Hey, Gavin. It's okay, we're here to help." Sam assured. Gavin looked at him then to me.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me, "My name is Sam. That's my sister, Abigail." He said, "We, uh, found your girlfriend."

"Kat?" He asked, getting to his feet, "Is she alright?"

I nodded, "Yeah. She's worried about you. Are you okay?"

Gavin looked to us, "I was running. I think I fell."

We exchanged a glance, "You were running from what?" Sam asked.

"There was...there was this girl." Gavin explained, cringing at the memory. He brought his hands to his face, motioning, "Her face. It was all messed up."

"Okay listen, did this girl,... did she try and hurt you?" Sam asked him.

Gavin looked taken aback by the question, "What? No, she...uh..."

I arched a brow, "She what?"

He flushed, looking down, "She...kissed me."

Sam and I blinked at the kid's answer. _Well_.

"Uh...um...but...but she didn't hurt you, physically?" Sam asked, clearly bewildered by the answer.

"Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!" Gavin exclaimed.

"Well, trust me, it could have been worse." I commented, amused by his actions, "Now do you remember anything else? "

"She uh...actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear." He recollected.

I tilted my head, "What?"

Gavin shrugged, "I don't know. I ran like hell."

Sam had taken the lead, Gavin and me trailing behind.

"Whoa, so, you can like, see ghosts?" Gavin asked, perplexed.

I shifted, seeing Sam look at me with an arched brow, "Yeah. I can see ghosts. Pretty much whatever supernatural entity you throw at me."

He grinned, "Dude, that's awesome."

"Yeah, _awesome_." Sam breathed out in mild annoyance. Sounds of a scuffle had alerted Sam and I, it was like metal colliding with a door, then Dean yelled out for Kat to stay calm. The three of us took off running down the hall until we saw Dean slamming a metal pipe against the door with vigor.

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

Dean looked to us, frantic, "She's inside with one of them." From the other side, Kat screamed.

"Help me!"

Gavin banged on the door, "Kat!"

"Get me outta here!" She screamed out.

I pushed Gavin out of the way, "Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down." I ordered.

Dean looked at me like I was crazy, like he expected something like that from Sam, "She's gotta _what_?!"

Kat was clearly overwhelmed, "I have to _what_?!"

Sam looked to Dean, "These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it."

"You face it!" Kat yelled through the door.

"No! It's the only way to get out of there." I reassured her.

"No!"

I furrowed my eyes at the door. _Cooperate with me, people. _

"Look at it, come on." Sam urged, "You can do it."

It was silent in the room. Too quiet for my liking.

"Kat?" Gavin asked, getting worried.

Dean looked at the two of us with skepticism, "I hope you two are right about this."

I nodded, "Yeah, me too."

The silence had grown heavier and heavier as time pressed on. The lock clicked and the door slowly opened with Kat standing in the doorway, dazed. Gavin pulled her into an embrace as Sam and I stepped into the room, looking around it warily. Sam looked at me, and I shook my head.

We stepped out, shaking our heads at Dean as an indication that the spirit was no longer there.

"One thirty-seven." Kat said suddenly.

Dean leaned forward, "Sorry?"

"It whispered in my ear. 137." Kat stated.

It had dawned on us. 137 was a room number. Sam, Dean, and I walked a little ways away from the two teenagers and crouched where we couldn't be heard.

"Alright, so if these spirits aren't tryin' to hurt anyone…" I said.

"Then what are they trying to do?" Dean asked, looking to us for answers.

Sam shrugged, "Maybe that's what they've been trying to tell us…"

Dean shrugged, "I guess we'll find out."

Sam and I nodded, "Alright."

We stood up, approaching the two lovebirds.

"So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?" Dean asked.

"That's an understatement." Kat replied.

Dean looked to Sam and I, "Okay. You guys get them outta here." I was getting ready to open my mouth to retaliate until Dean had cut me off, "I don't want to hear it from you. I can't let you stay here any longer than what you have. If you were to get hurt or the baby…" He shook his head as a pained look succumbed his features, "I can't let that happen, Abigail." He said softly, "Which is why I want Sam to go with you." He added, looking at Sam. "I'm going to go find room 137."

Once again, we had went our separate ways; Sam and I taking the lead while Kat and Gavin followed behind us.

"So. How do you guys know about all this ghost stuff?" Kat asked.

I shrugged, "It's kinda our job."

Kat looked at me with an awkward expression, "Why would anyone want a job like that?"

Sam huffed, "I had a crappy guidance counselor."

I furrowed my brows, "I didn't. I was raised to do this."

Kat looked amazed, "You were _raised_? What parent would raise their child like a heathen?"

I stopped in my tracks to whirl around, only to be stopped by Sam; who gripped my arm tightly. I gave him a dangerous look, only to be met with a look similar to one John would express towards Dean or I if we fucked up. Jaw clenched and fists balled up tight, I said nothing and walked away from the group.

"What's her problem?" I heard Kat ask.

"She's proud of what she does." Sam replied lightly.

"Damn straight, I am." I mumbled, chest clenching in anger. If Dean had been here, he would've stuck up for me and for John. There probably would've been a knock-down drag-out to be honest. I was far enough from them to make them think I couldn't hear. But from how the halls were designed, it echoed and carried things farther than anticipated.

"What about those two? Dean and her?" Kat asked, "They're your boss?"

I knew Sam had to look at me. There was a brief hesitation. "No." Came his soft reply. With a bowed head, I knew this was going to be the last night I talked to him for a while. Not because he doesn't think I'm his boss…no, it was more than that. No one's his boss but his own. I had told him that. I was mad that he didn't bother to stick up for me, like I had done for him _so_ many times.

In silence, we marched down the hallways trying doors. He gave me a look that said the one he tried didn't budge, so I tried one and got the same results.

"Alright, I think we have a small problem." Sam announced.

Gavin motioned to the door, "Then break it down."

I snorted, "I don't think that's gonna work."

"Then a window." Gavin urged.

Kat looked at him, "They're barred."

"Then how are we supposed to get out?" Gavin asked, growing frantic. I rolled my eyes at the kid, _Kat's taking this better than you_.

Sam had turned to us, "That's the point. We're not. There's something in here. It doesn't want us to leave."

"Those patients…" Kat concluded.

Sam shook his head, "No, something else…"

I had to move around, do something—_anything_, in order to prevent myself from punching someone in the throat. I was about to piss all over myself, and there was no way in hell that I was gonna pop a squat in a corner knowing a messed up former patient would be standing in front of me the second I did. So yeah, I guess you could say I was less than hospitable towards everyone, nor did I have the patience for anything.

I waltzed through the hallway, tried different doors, tried windows (even though they were barred), even tried stairwells; but I came up empty. I had also ran into several patients, even more gruesome as the last, to which, I had finally retired my pissy spell and went back to the company of my less-than-friendly group of naysayers. Shoving my hands into my pockets, Sam looked in my direction with a glimmer of hope that I had found something.

"Alright. Hate to burst ya'll's bubbles…but I've looked everywhere. There's no other way out." I announced, pulling up an old wheelchair and sat in it. I cringed at the thought of the nasty old thing, but my back was killing me, so the gritty nastiness had become the least of my worries.

Gavin let out a groan, "So what the hell are we gunna do?"

I flicked a hand in a casual manner, similar to Dean's, "Well for starters, we're not gonna panic."

He approached me in an aggressive manner, "Why the hell not!"

I glowered up at him from the chair, daring him to come closer. Sam was about to break up the forming argument, possible ass-kicking by a girl, until his cell phone rang. I furrowed my brows, maneuvered the wheelchair to look at Sam as he answered it, glancing at me.

"Hey." He said, pausing for a few seconds, "Where are you?"

I arched my brows and mouthed, _Dean?_ He nodded, "What about Abigail?" he asked, becoming quiet once again. Looking at me, he nodded, "I'm on my way." Closing the phone, he tucked it away in his pocket.

"What was Dean needing?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know, said he needed me in the basement."

"Do I need to go with you?"

He shook his head appearing to be a little confused, "No, he said that you needed to stay put." My brows pulled together in mutual accord. Wherever Dean needed Sam, he usually needed me to come with him. However, staying with these two teens to ensure their safety also was a Dean move too. I nodded.

"Alright. Just, uh, if you need me, do not hesitate to call me." I said, placing a hand on his arm. Sam nodded.

"Of course, yeah," He said, then patted my shoulder. Kat and Gavin looked at us with wide eyes.

"What? You're leaving?!" Gavin exclaimed.

Sam nodded, "I have to, my brother needs help. You're in good hands."

I smiled softly at him, _Okay maybe I was taking the pissy fit too seriously._

He handed me the shotgun, "We'll be back when this is all over."

"Hurry, I have to pee." I said and laughed upon seeing him chuckle.

"'kay."

Kat, Gavin, and I watched Sam take off towards the basement where Dean had directed him to go while I sit here and babysit. I sighed, taking a seat back into the wheelchair. Surprisingly, there were no spirits in the room, which was weird. Even for an asylum such as this one. Not that I minded or anything!

I watched Kat crouch against the wall while Gavin paced in a panicked way while I held the shotgun across my lap.

Kat sighed, "Hey, Gavin?"

Gavin sank into a crouch with her, "Yeah?"

"If we make it out of here alive...we are so breaking up." She stated. Gavin stared at her for a moment while I pursed my lips to prevent myself from laughing. That was too amusing, in my opinion until there was a noise coming from out in the hallway. Gavin and Kat froze, staring at me with wide eyes as they rose to their feet. Slowly, I stood shouldering the weapon.

"Did you hear that?" Kat whispered.

"Something's coming." I replied, training my eye down the barrel.

A figure came around the corner and I pulled the trigger, before realizing that it was Dean. The round went off, Dean threw himself on the floor and I flipped the safety on before shoving the gun into Kat's hands.

"Damn it, damn it, don't shoot!" Dean shouted, "It's me!"

I pulled my hand up to my mouth, "Sorry! Sorry."

"Son of a…" He came around the corner to look at the pockmarks from the salt round, then looked to me, Kat and Gavin, "What are you still doing here?! Where's Sam?"

A sinking feeling formed in the pit of my stomach, "He went to the basement. You called him."

Dean shook his head, "I didn't call anybody."

Kat nodded, "His cell phone rang. He said it was you."

My eyes widened and I looked to Dean as he met my eyes, "Basement, huh?"

He crouched, pulling out a few more weapons, "Alright. Watch yourselves..." He looked at me, "and watch out for me!"

I gaped, "What, I'm not going?"

"No! You're staying right here and watching them!" Dean stated, "You almost took my head off!"

"Well I thought you were down in the freakin' basement!" I countered, "I had valid reasoning to try and blow your head off!"

"From now on, don't shoot until you see who it is for sure!" He replied. Off behind me, Kat and Gavin looked at us in disbelief.

I lifted my arms and let them slap my legs, "Oh, that's just great."

Dean sighed before he crossed the room and planted a quick kiss on my lips, "Stay."

I looked up to the ceiling and finally nodded, "Fine."

"Good." After that, he wheeled around, went out of the room and down the hallway. His boots echoing until they faded away.

I ran a hand through my hair, then turned to look at Gavin and Kat.

"Did you just kiss your brother?" Gavin asked, disgusted.

"Oh my god, ew!" Kat exclaimed.

I stared at them in disbelief, "He's not my brother. Not techinically."

"Not technically?!" Gavin asked.

"No! I'm adopted!" I answered, "My family died and they took me in."

Gavin and Kat's faces dropped upon hearing that, where Gavin scratched the back of his head.

"Oh." Gavin replied.

I nodded, "Yeah, oh." I sat back down in the wheelchair, "Ya'll don't realize how many times I've heard that coming from different people."

"Really?" Kat asked me.

I nodded, "Lord yeah. They consider me their sister, but as you can see, Dean and I have a little bit more than that."

Kat nodded with a grin, "That's obvious. How'd you two know you liked each other?"

I blinked. _That was a good question_. I lifted an arm to scratch my head, "Uh, well, um…it just sort of happened." They stared at me blankly, not understanding, "I mean, I've always had a thing for Dean since we were kids. My parents knew his dad when they were still alive, and sometimes, if they were in our neck of the woods, they'd drop by. Stay a few days to a week, then leave." I shrugged, "But we didn't always liked each other at first. I was the oldest of my family, he's the oldest of his. I had three siblings younger than me, he's got Sammy. We always bumped heads when it came to who should run the show because he's older than me." I laughed softly at the memory before I frowned.

"When my family died," I looked down to my lap solemnly, "so did my siblings, and I was the only one that lived." I blinked back tears, "And, uh, his dad dropped by and they took me in. Been with them ever since for the past twelve years."

Kat sniffed, "I'm so sorry."

I smiled softly, looking up to her, "It's fine, really."

"So it's just you three?" Gavin asked.

I nodded, "Yeah. Dean's the oldest, I'm second oldest, and then Sam." I lifted two fingers, entwining them, and smiled. "We're as thick as thieves. There's nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for them."

Kat smiled, "So, you're pregnant?"

I nodded, "Yeah. Eight weeks _and_…two days now, I guess. Not real used to this pregnancy ordeal."

"Planned?"

I shook my head, "No. Lord, no. Kids weren't even on my agenda, much less the thought of one."

"So it was like you and Dean's relationship? It just sort of happened?" Kat asked, interested.

I laughed, "Yeah, I guess you can say that."

* * *

_Basement—Night_

_Dean's Point of View_

Leaving Abigail behind, once again, was something I wished I didn't have to do. Not with what I found, and not with the possibility that she could get hurt because of me. Making my way back down into the basement, I scanned the area for Sam.

"Sammy?" I called out, venturing further into the room. When I didn't hear a response, I had begun to grow concerned for my brother's safety, "Sam, you down here? Sam? Sam!" The thought of him being hurt by some unseen force irked the hell out of me, feeling an electrical tingle form throughout my body that seemed to have spread out and into the tips of my fingers all the way to the tips of my toes.

As I turned, I had caught something from the corner of my eye, jumped back alarmed, and out of instinct, I raised the shotgun to my shoulder. My breath came out in harsh bursts, realizing that it was Sam standing in front of me, I lowered it somewhat and sighed, "Man, answer me when I'm calling you! You alright? "

Sam stared at me, "Yeah. I'm fine."

I looked at him with a flood of relief, "You know it wasn't me who called your cell, right?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I know." He looked around the basement, "I think something lured me down here."

"I think I know who." I said, lowering the gun, "Dr. Ellicott." Sam gaped, blinking in shock, "That's what the spirits have been trying to tell us. You haven't seen him, have you?"

Sam shook his head no, "No. How do you know it was him?"

"'Cause I found his log book. Apparently he was experimenting on his patients, awful stuff." I shook my head and laughed a little, "Makes lobotomies look like a coupla aspirin."

"But it was the patients who rioted." Sam said.

"Yeah. They were rioting against Dr. Ellicott." I replied. Upon the dumbfounded look I received from Sam, I rolled my eyes a little, "Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger then they would be cured of it." I shook my head to elaborate my explaination, "Instead it only made them worse and worse and angrier and angrier. So I'm thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop? To the kids in the seventies, making them so angry they become homicidal..." I hefted my bag on my shoulder, passing Sam, "Come on, we gotta find his bones and torch 'em."

"How? The police never found his body." He stated.

I turned to look at him, "The log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere where he'd work on his patients. So, if I was a patient I'd drag his ass down here, do a little work on it myself."

"I don't know, it sounds kinda..."

"Crazy?" I finished for him.

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

I walked down the hall a little ways, stopping in front of another door to look inside it. Looking back to Sam, I motioned my head for him to follow. Unbeknownst to me, something about him was off as he followed me into the room.

"I told you I looked everywhere." Sam said, splaying his arms out, "I didn't find a hidden room."

"Well, that's why they call it hidden..." I paused upon hearing a winding noise, to which I looked to Sam, "You hear that?"

He shook his head, "What?"

Sinking into a crouch upon hearing for the source of the winding, I held my hand out to feel a slight breeze, "There's a door here."

"Dean," Sam said, catching my attention. I looked up at him, seeing blood trickle from his nose, and looked down to see his shotgun pointed at me. He brought his hand up to his face, smearing the blood more than wiping it off, "Step back from the door." He instructed.

I rose to my feet, my eyes moving from the gun to Sam, "Sam, put the gun down."

He smirked at me, shifting his weight in his feet, "Is that an order?"

I licked my lips, glancing down to the gun before looking back up to Sam, "Nah, it's more of a friendly request."

When Sam rose the gun, pointing it directly at my chest, "'Cause I'm getting pretty tired of taking your orders."

I smirked, "I knew it. Ellicott did something to you."

"For once in your life, just shut your mouth." Sam bit out.

"What are you gunna do, Sam?" I asked him, "Gun's filled with rock salt. It's not gunna kill me."

Sam pulled the trigger, feeling the full force of the shot as it sent me flying through the door, falling to the floor, "No. But it will hurt like hell."

_Roosevelt Asylum_

_Abigail's Point of View_

I was literally about to bust with the need of having to pee. Sitting in the wheelchair didn't help. Crossing my legs and thinking of dirty things to do with Dean didn't help (anymore). So, here I was. An eight week pregnant girl walking amongst the halls with two frightened teenagers (well, one) who freaked out at every sound.

"How long does it take to check on someone?" Kat asked.

I looked at her, "Not this long, to be honest. No more than ten, fifteen minutes. _Tops_." Instead, it was an hour, my patience and sanity had worn paper thin. I was getting worried. Holding the shotgun in my hands, I looked down at it for a moment; an idea popping in my mind.

"Alright, can either of you handle a shotgun?" I asked, receiving bewildered and panicked looks.

"What? No!" Gavin, being the first to say anything. _Figures._

Kat raised her hand slightly, "I can." Gavin and I looked at her in amazement, to which she looked rather pleased with herself, "My dad took me skeet shooting a coupla times."

I nodded, holding out the gun, "Alright, here." I said. Upon getting a wide-eyed look from her, I placed a reassuring hadn on her shoulder, "It's loaded with rock salt. It may not kill a spirit, but it will repel it. So if you see somethin', _shoot._ It's been too long for those two to salt and burn bones, I'm gonna see if they're alright."

Kat nodded, hefting the weapon in her arms, "Okay."

With a final onceover, I nodded and gave her a smile, "I got faith in ya." She smiled at me as I turned on my heels and went out of the room. I looked to each hall, door, and exit for any signs of Sam and Dean. I sighed, putting my hand on my forehead in annoyance, turning to see a little girl with a massive contusion on the side of her face; reaching from her eye socket to her neck. I jumped back with a gasp, only to watch her flicker out of sight then down the hall to where she appeared again, looking at me. It took me a moment to understand what was going on.

"You want me to follow you," I realized before glancing back from where I came, following the image of the girl until we came to a stairwell where she disappeared for good. I looked around for her, searching. "I don't know who you were, but thank you." I whispered to the air, and pushed on, downstairs into the basement where I heard Dean painfully call out for Sam.

Fear ran through my veins like an icy jolt. "We gotta burn Ellicott's bones," I heard him say, "and this will be over, and you'll be back to normal."

I covered my mouth to quiet down my breathing as I made my way, carefully and warily, down the hallway to a door where I heard their voices clearer. I peeked through, seeing a hidden door when Sam's voice rang out, "I _am_ normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here?" He asked, "'Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little solider? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?"

Stepping into the room, fully aware that any sound could alert Sam and put myself in jeopardy, as well as my little blip. My mouth had gone dry, feeling my heart pound against my ribcage with zeal. Quietly, I looked around, searching for a weapon in case a worst-scenario was to arise. Nestled amongst debris, I found a metal pipe. Encasing my fingers around the metal instrument, I kept it to my side.

"This isn't you talking, Sam." Dean said.

I heard Sam scoff, "That's the difference between you and me, Dean. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you and Abigail." I froze. _He thought of me, pathetic?_

"Don't bring Abigail into this. Don't you dare," Dean growled out, "If you got beef, you do it with me."

He laughed, "You don't deserve her. You never did."

"So what are you gunna do, huh? Are you gunna kill me? Go after Abs after you finish me off?" Dean challenged.

"You know what, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do." Sam said, changing the subject, "We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago."

I heard rustling, coming up to the hidden door and peeked, seeing Sam's towering figure over Dean, who was bleeding from the chest, lifting up his Smith &amp; Wesson towards Sam, "Well, then here. Let me make it easier for you." Sam hesitated, "Come on. Take it." Dean urged, glancing down to see me, then looked up quickly, "Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt." Sam didn't budge, pushing a button in Dean, "Take it!" He yelled out as Sam snatched it from his hands and pointed it at his face.

"You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother?" Dean urged as I slowly approached Sam from behind, "Then go ahead. Pull the trigger. Do it!"

Sam pulled the trigger, only to hear it click. He tried it again, only to hear another click.

I whistled, causing Sam to spin around and I took the metal pipe, swinging it like a baseball bat. When it collided with Sam's head—my little brother, the boy I helped raise—he fell to the ground, knocked out. I stared at him with a stricken look, "Sorry, Sammy." I told him and I dropped the pipe, rushing over to Dean, "You okay?"

He nodded, grasping my hand, "Yeah." He panted out, looking down at his brother before looking to me, "We gotta find that body." I nodded, as we started to look around the room in a frantic speed. Dean pushed back ragged curtains with pistol while I looked in cupboards, seeing a tuft of something.

"Dean," I said, causing him to turn as I looked to him, reaching out and opened the door to find a mummified corpse. Instantly, I flinched back already gagging from the putrid stench. Dean stared at the corpse with a look of disgust.

"Oh, that's just gross." He stated, pulling out a canister of salt. Pouring salt on the body, he smirked, "Soak it up." I handed him a small tin of kerosene, to which he began squirting it over the body. A gurney came flying across the room and knocked Dean and I to the ground. Dropping the bag, I rolled until I hit a desk and groaned out, holding my head, seeing that I was bleeding.

In front of me stood Dr. Ellicott as he grabbed Dean's face and his hands lit up, "Don't be afraid. I'm going to help you. I'm going to make you all better."

Dean struggled against Ellicott's hold, reaching for the bag that I had dropped, and found his lighter, flicked it on and tossed it at the mummified body. Stunned, the apparition let go of Dean as his remains burned, allowing him to crawl towards me as we both watched as Dr. Ellicott's ghost turned black and fell to the ground, crumbling upon impact.

We both sat in silence, wide-eyed with relief. Quietly, Dean pulled me into a one-armed embrace where he planted a kiss to my forehead. I wrapped a tender arm across his lap, ensuring that I wouldn't touch his wounds on his chest.

"You shouldn't have come down here." Dean said.

"You two were taking too long," I replied, "I got worried."

He chuckled, then stopped due to the pain he was in, "Don't make me laugh."

I smiled up at him, then it faded, "Dean…do you think Sam really sees us as pathetic?"

Dean frowned, "I'm not sure, Abs…he wasn't in the right state of mind either." We looked over to Sam, who let out a small groan and sat up, holding his head and blinked several times, before realizing we were staring at him.

Dean wrapped an arm around me protectively, staring at his brother, "You're not going to try and kill me, are ya?"

Sam slowly raised his hands to his head, cradling it, "No."

Dean nodded with a look of relief, "Good. Because that would be awkward."

* * *

_Asylum—Morning_

Once outside of the asylum, Sam, Dean, and I stood before Gavin and Kat.

"Thanks, guys." Kat said with a smile.

Gavin nodded, "Yeah. Thanks."

Dean looked to each teenager sternly, "No more haunted asylums, okay?"

With a nod, they turned and walked towards their car, then we turned to walk back to the Impala. There was an eerie sense of calm coming from within the confines of the asylum, like a weight had been lifted off the abandoned establishment. Dean had his arm wrapped around me as I helped support him to the car, where he leaned against the driver's side door. Sam had went over to the passenger side door and sighed, leaning against it.

"Hey, Dean?" Dean looked at him, "I'm sorry, man. I said some awful things back there."

"You remember all that?" I asked as he looked at me with a remorseful expression.

"Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it." He replied, "But I didn't mean it, any of it."

Dean looked at his brother skeptically, "You didn't, huh?"

Sam shook his head, "No, of course not!" He pulled a puppy-dog look, "Do we need to talk about this?" Dean leaned back to open the door to the Impala.

"No." He said flatly, "I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep and Abigail's eyes are floating." Sam looked to me, ashamed and I held my hand up at him.

"I don't want to hear it either, Sam." I said as I got in the back of the Impala, shutting the door, followed by Dean and finally Sam.

The ride to the motel was dead quiet.

* * *

_Motel Room—Day_

I jerked awake to the sound of Dean's cellphone ringing, and laid where I was at, hoping it would just go to voicemail. Dean was asleep beside me, arm wrapped tightly around my waist, his hand resting on my abdomen.

Sam shifted in his bed, "Dean." He wouldn't budge from his position, "Abigail."

I opened my eyes, "Do I look capable of getting up?"

He groaned, grabbing Dean's phone from the end table and checked the number before flipping it open, "Hello?" Watching him, he paused for a moment, listening to whoever was on the other line, and jolted up, "Dad?"

* * *

**Hey guys! So, what'd ya'll think about Chapter 12? How about that 'awe' moment with Dean and Sam at the ultrasound? It melted my heart to write it out! So, ladies, if ya'll have had a baby, let me know how I done with the appointment part! I literally have no clue how that goes, I just watched a bunch of videos to get a general idea.**

* * *

**As I have said before in previous chapters, please know that I am always open for new ideas, plots, schemes, tidbits of shows/movies that you'd like to see in this fanfic! All you gotta do is put it in your review and/or private message me! I am more than willing to talk it out with you!**

* * *

**Dobby's Minion is in the Impala****\- Yes, you are correct! It would be considered the tack room, I think I got it mixed up while I was writing.**

**SassyGrl23-Thank you! Me too! But seeing how he was portrayed as one, I pray that he doesn't fly off the handle!  
**

**ebonywarrior85****-You are very welcome, my dear! I think he'll be same ole John Winchester. I don't know whether he will be thrilled or unhappy about the pregnancy! We shall see in future chapters! And lay them on me! I'm ready and eager to hear what you got in mind! (;**

* * *

**Also! I made a pretty big update to _Dead in the Water_, so if ya'll are interested, check it out and let me know how it was!**

* * *

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles!**


	14. Scarecrow

**WARNING: There _will_ be smut in this chapter! ****It'll be easy to skip once you get to a certain part of the chapter, you'll know it too! So, if you don't like that kinda thing, skip! (:**

* * *

_**Motel Room—Day**_

I jerked awake to the sound of Dean's cellphone ringing, and laid where I was at, hoping it would just go to voicemail. Dean was asleep beside me, arm wrapped tightly around my waist, his hand resting on my abdomen.

Sam shifted in his bed on his pillow, "Dean." He wouldn't budge from his position, "Abigail."

I opened my eyes, "Do I look capable of getting up?"

He groaned, grabbing Dean's phone from the end table and checked the number before flipping it open, "Hello?" Watching him, he paused for a moment, listening to whoever was on the other line, and jolted up, "Dad?

I jerked up as well, gaping and wide-eyed. Dean was still conked out, grumbling incoherently at my movements before settling back to sleep.

"Dad? Are you hurt?" Sam asked, throwing a glance my way. A sliver of worry coursed through me at the thought of him being hurt. We were silent; Sam listening to John while I leaned in the bed, straining to hear his voice, "We've been looking for you everywhere. We didn't know where you were, if you were okay."

Dean stirred beside me, clearly disturbed from his sleep from Sam talking. Judging by how quiet Sam was, John must've been asked something, to which Sam replied, "We're fine." He looked at me again, then away, "Abigail's been sick though…she's pregnant. Eight weeks." I pulled my brows together in worry. How was that going to fly with John? Surprisingly, I made out a distinctive sound of his voice saying something around the lines of 'She'll pull through it. She's a trooper', and I couldn't help but tear up. Sam's eyes glittered as well.

"Dad, where are you?" Sam asked softly. His brows drew together, clearly becoming frustrated, "What? Why not?"

By this time, Dean had sat up looking alert, "Is that Dad?" He asked, looking to me and Sam for confirmation.

Sam ignored him, his frustrated expression softened, "You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom." He grew quiet again, only to widen his eyes, "A demon? You know for sure?" He asked. I looked at Sam sharply, though sitting in the pit of my stomach, I had an idea of what it looked like.

Sitting in the bed on the other side of me, Dean clambered to the edge of the bed, pulling a shirt over his head. The longer Sam spoke to his father, the more upset he grew and the more anxious Dean looked, "You know where it is?" Sam asked—glancing to Dean, frowning. There was another pause.

"Let us help." Sam said with an urgent tone in his voice. Dean was staring at his brother intently, his breathing seemed to be a little quicker with anticipation. After another pause, Sam looked like he was going to stroke out, "Why not?"

Dean extended his hand, "Give me the phone." He said gently. Sam sent him a glare, shaking his head 'no'. I frowned. This was going to end badly. It just felt like it was going to be one of those days.

"Names? What names, Dad—," Sam stuttered out, "—talk to me, tell me what's going on." Dean's eyes widened trying to understand the snowballing conversation of stubborn Sam and John. John said something else that escalated Sam's stubborn streak, "No. Alright? No way."

"Give me the phone." Dean said, this time forcefully, holding his hand out. When Sam shook his head at him again, he got up and snatched his phone from Sam. Dean looked to me, motioning for a pen and paper, "Dad, it's me. Where are you?" he asked, watching as I went around the motel room looking for a stationary notepad and a pen, "Yes, sir." Finally finding one, I went back over to Dean, handing him the pen and notepad, "Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?"

The expression Sam had on his face looked murderous as he watched Dean write down names like the obedient soldier he was. I frowned, realizing after studying Sam for the past few minutes that what he had said to Dean yesterday back at the asylum had been true and not some mind game Ellicott played on him. He really thought of us as pathetic, obedient soldiers.

Amongst the hype of John's call, I was getting sick again for the millionth time. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and held my head, inhaling deeply from the oncoming waves of nausea. My right knee bobbed with great momentum, catching Dean's attention when he got off the phone with John, "You okay, Thumper?"

I looked up at him and nodded, not saying anything. Then that burst of saliva that was a forewarning of what was to happen made me swallow a few times before I quickly shook my head 'no' and got up, running to the bathroom.

From inside the bathroom, I heard Dean say, "You know that doctor gave you those pills for a reason, right?"

I spit, "I'm not—," My body lurched in a dry heave, "—taking them!"

"You're not gonna get hooked on Zofran, Abs." Dean countered in a gentle tone.

Sitting in the floor, I rested my arm on the rim of the toilet bowl before putting my forehead against my arm, "That's not the point, Dean." I used my free hand to wipe tears away. Closing my eyes, I shivered from another wave of nausea. I didn't want to move at all right now, however, I heard the bed creak, the sound of a bag being unzipped and the distinct rattle of a pill bottle, and finally footsteps coming to the door. Not bothering to look up, I knew Dean was going to force me to take them when the door opened.

"Take them," Dean urged.

I shook my head, "No."

He let out an irritated blow, "Fine. I'll sit here with you until you do take them." I heard his knees pop when he crouched down and plopped back onto the cold bathroom floor, "Jesus, it's cold! Never mind." He got back up rather quickly, causing me to laugh lightly at his would-be kind gesture. I looked up at him, seeing that there was a genuine look of concern clouding in those hypnotizing green eyes of his. I groaned, reaching my hand up for him to take it.

"Don't give me that smirk, Winchester." I said, catching his victorious look, "I'm just hungry and tired of hanging on a toilet half the day."

"Oh, sure." He countered, holding his hand out that held a small little pill.

I looked at it uneasily. I so badly wanted to avoid being dependent on a pill or any form of medication—especially throughout my pregnancy. However, I hadn't exactly eaten either and we were pressed for time due to John's call. _Now or never,_ I thought shrewdly. When I picked it up, I popped it in my mouth and held it under my tongue. Dean kissed my temple softly as a way of saying thanks.

_Only for him_.

* * *

_**Impala—Night**_

Sam was driving. Dean was sitting in the passenger seat, going through different articles and maps while I retained my spot in the backseat. By now, I was sitting comfortably; back up against the interior with my legs crossed across the length of the seat with one of Dean's lighter jackets worn the wrong way to cover up my arms. For some reason, I was _freezing_.

"Alright, so, the names Dad gave us, they're all couples?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded in response, not looking up from the articles, "Three different couples. All went missing."

I folded my legs under me to lean forward, "And they're all from different towns?" I asked, peering over their shoulders to look at the maps with locations circled, "Different states?"

"That's right. You got Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a road trip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination, and none of them were ever heard from again." Dean replied, turning his head to look at me. Sam for the most part of the drive had been quiet, bristling at every little thing that we talked about or mentioned.

Sam's body was rigid, "Well, it's a big country, Dean." He said, coolly, "They could've disappeared anywhere."

"Yeah, _could've_." Dean replied, regarding what his brother had said, "But each one's route took 'em to the same part of Indiana. Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another."

I furrowed my brows in deep thought, feeling my forehead crease from concentration, "This is the second week of April."

"Yep." Dean nodded.

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?" Sam asked, shaking his head at the conclusion.

Dean and I looked at Sam, impressed, "Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this?" He asked, "All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man's a master." Judging from the ticking muscle in Sam's jaw, something snapped. More or less, he was severely annoyed by something. He jerked the steering wheel sharply, pulling over on the side of the road. Dean looked at him, bewildered, "What are you doing?"

Sam's hands were firmly planted on the steering wheel, "We're not going to Indiana."

I looked to Dean, gaping. "We're not?" I asked.

"No. We're going to California." He stated, "Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code."

"Sam…" Dean cautioned, his voice thick with his thinning patience.

Sam turned to look at his brother, "Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in," he shook his head, "We've gotta be there. We've gotta help." There it was. Old, rebellious Sammy from yesteryear. The vehemence in his voice and the determination to help John was so vivid in his eyes and on his face…I had felt torn.

"Dad doesn't want our help." Dean said, bitterly.

"I don't care." Sam replied.

Out of habit, I had blurted out, "He's given us an order." Dean nodded, agreeing with what I said to the fullest of his being. Immediately, I inwardly cringed. _Hypocrite._

"I don't care. We don't always have to do what he says, Abigail. _Your_ _words._" Sam said when Dean looked to me upon Sam saying that, eyes wide, incredulous to what he had heard.

I leaned forward, "Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save _lives_." I urged firmly, yet gently, "This is important."

"Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand." He said in a pleading tone, glancing up to me in the rear-view mirror with those puppy-dog eyes of his before looking to Dean.

Having trouble as to what to say, Dean glanced back at me, "Alright, look, I know how you feel."

A condescending scoff left Sam's throat, "Do you?" Dean's eyes went wide at Sam's tone, "How old were you when Mom died? _Four?_ Jess died _six months_ ago. How the _hell_ would you know how I feel?"

"Abigail died, so don't go there, Sam." Dean countered. He made it clear that there had been a warning in his words.

Sam scoffed again, rolling his eyes in a mocking manner, "For _what_? Six seconds?"

"_Ten minutes_." Dean growled, growing angry at his brother, "And for every minute she was gone, that was time that _I_ lost, Sam. Not you." I sat in the backseat, slack-jawed at how they were acting. _Really?_

I had to diffuse the situation, "Guys, I'm not dead now, right? That's all that matters." They fell silent, "Dad said it wasn't safe—" I looked to each siblings sternly, "For any of us." My heart was pounding in my chest at how foolish those two were being and I was in no mood to hear it today, "I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away, _we stay away_." Sam and Dean were in awe at how hostile I sounded, in more ways than one, it had fueled some fire of Sam's.

"I don't understand the blind faith you two have in the man. I mean, it's like you don't even question him." He said, that defiant look in his eyes sparkling with zeal.

"Yeah, it's called being a good son!" Dean spat out, glaring at Sam. In a whirl of anger, Sam got out of the car, slamming the door behind him with Dean following close behind, watching when the trunk went up and the sound of him rummaging through it caused me to get out, eyes wide.

_No._ I thought, _Not again._ Angry tears formed in my eyes. I was losing my brother all over again.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" Dean said, "You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks."

Slamming the trunk shut, Sam looked to him, eyes narrowed as he looked to me, hoping and _pleading_ that I would intervene. When I didn't, his jaw worked oddly, "That's what you really think?"

"Yes, it is." Dean growled.

Sam put on his backpack, holding a strap still with one hand, "Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California."

I looked to the both of them, panicked, and went for Sam's hand, stopping him. "Come on, Sam, you're not serious."

Sam frowned, the defiant look in his eyes soften upon seeing the look of panic from me, "I am serious." After a small breath, he gently took my hand away from his, "Look, you can go off and do the good little girl thing with Dean, Abigail. That's what I want you to do." He told me. My breath hitched in my throat, the familiar sense of nauseating dread washed over me with torrential force, "But I'm not going just because there _orders_." He turned, walking away from us. I looked to Dean, eyes wide; begging him, no, _pleading _him to do something. In the light given to us by the taillights, I didn't see the soft, understanding eyes of someone who saw eye to eye. Instead, I saw the look of stubborn and absolute authority.

That painful feeling in my chest and in my gut caused me to furrow my brows at the two brothers. And there I was, stuck in the middle. Again.

Dean stood firmly in his place by the Impala. "It's the middle of the night!" He said loudly, throwing his arms up. He looked at me, "Abigail, get in the car." I remained planted, looking at him, tears falling. "I said, get in the car!" He barked, causing me to jump, "I'm taking off, I _will leave_ your ass, you hear me?" Dean threatened, directing it to Sam, who stopped after walking a few yards and turned.

"Good. That's what I want you to do." Came his reply, staring at Dean as he returned the gesture. I didn't move, silently praying that they would come around and resolve their differences, but when Dean grabbed my arm. Gently, yet firmly, he led me back towards the Impala; indicating his decision was just. I looked back to Sam over my shoulder, tears flowing freely down my face.

Opening the passenger side door, Dean's hand went from my arm to the small of my back where he urged me to sit in the seat. I cast one last glance to Sam before I bowed my head and got in, Dean closing the door.

Rounding the back of the Impala, I heard Dean tell Sam goodbye before climbing into the driver's seat and pulled away. Silently, I wiped away tears whilst looking out of the window, not entirely listening to the radio when the first few chords of Poison's song, _Every Rose Has its Thorn,_ began playing. There were so many thoughts running at light speed in my head. Worry and grief flooded throughout me, and I heard Dean blow out a soft, agitated breath.

The cab of the Impala was illuminated from the lights in the dashboard when Dean glanced over to me, "Abs…" I closed my eyes, bowing my head, "Look, I know you're mad as hell at me right now."

_Mad doesn't even begin to cover it_, I thought, pursing my lips.

Dean took a hand off the steering wheel to put it against his chest, "Trust me, I'm mad as hell at myself, but Sam asked for it." My head whipped around to look at him, eyes narrowed.

"He _asked_ to be abandoned?" I snapped at him. He blinked, glancing between the road and to me, bewildered at the tone of my voice, "Dean, he simply expressed his concern about Dad, and you jumped down his throat."

He scoffed, "Last time I remembered, _you_ jumped down his throat too."

I glared at him, "I jumped down the _both_ of your throats. Not just him, not just you. _Big_ difference."

"Dad gave us an order, Abs. We don't have any other choice." Dean said, "If he wants to go AWOL, that's his deal. If Sam wants to run to California to find him, and come up empty-handed, that's his."

I stared at him in disbelief, "We can't just leave him out here, Dean."

He wouldn't look at me, "We stick to the job…you know the rules."

One hundred percent done, an agitated breath released from me, "_God_, you're such a dildo."

Dean's head turned, brows furrowed with mild confusion written on his features, "You're the…dildo." I smirked. Witty comebacks were not his strong suit, and I don't think they ever will. I snorted upon hearing him mumble something about women being a pain in the ass.

In the shadow of my victory, I had settled myself at the end of the seat before sliding forward a ways and leaned back, resting my elbow on the bottom of the window and propped my head on my knuckles; dozing off into a restless slumber.

* * *

_**Burkittsville, Indiana—Morning**_

Burkittsville, Indiana. It was lush, green, and showing signs of spring in a bountiful amount of greenery. It was better looking at colors than the dullness of winter, in my opinion. Drops of water clung to the hood, windows, and our surroundings from the small burst of spring rainfall that we had driven through earlier. Once we were in town, Dean pulled the Impala to the side of the road and pulled out his cellphone, looking down at it, debating whether to call Sam or not. I watched him quietly, wondering if he was going to do it. Feeling the heat of my stares, Dean looked up at me and closed his phone.

I furrowed my brows at him, "Call him."

He shook his head, twisting the keys to shut off the car, "Nah, I'm sure he doesn't want to hear from me."

"You don't know that, Dean." I said, seeing the self-loathing in his eyes. Scooting across the seat, I placed my hands on each side of his face, "Sam is our brother. Albeit, a pain in the ass," He smirked, "and so are you." His face pulled in agreement, "What happened back there, I'm not sure what to even call that. An opposition of sides, I guess. But that doesn't change anythin' about you two. I just know, I get stuck in the middle. _A lot_." Dean was quiet, taking in my words, "I don't need the stress, Dean. I wished you two would stop being so bull-headed."

His lips curled into a lop-sided smile, "If we weren't, then there would be something wrong, sugar-pie."

I quirked my head, "Can't argue with that."

"So, you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked.

I sat back a little ways, faux pondering, "On one condition."

"Anything."

I nodded towards the little café entitled, _Scotty's Café_, we were sitting across from, "You get me some pie." A grin of approval spanned across his features, eyes crinkling from it as he reached out to pull me in for a kiss. It was tender and light, like kissing a feather. A wordless way of saying sorry and that each of us were forgiven of our actions from last night. He pulled back, a twinkle in his eyes.

"As soon as we find something out," He promised, looking to the little advertisement the café had stating that it had the best pie in the county. "Think they have apple?"

I laughed, "Doesn't hurt to ask." We got out of the car, closing the doors. Dean skipped ahead of me to walk up to a man sitting in a chair on the porch.

He gestured to the sign, "Let me guess," then pointed to the man, "Scotty."

The man looked at the sign, "Yep."

"Hi, my name's John Bonham." Dean lied.

"Isn't that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?" Scotty asked.

In lieu of Scotty's question, Dean looked taken aback, "Wow. Good." He looked to me, nodding in approval, "Classic rock fan."

"What can I do for you, John?" Scotty asked. Dean reached into his jacket pockets, taking out the flyers of Holly and Vince Parker.

"I was wondering if, uh, you'd seen these people by chance." Dean said, handing the papers to Scotty, who looked at them for a moment and shook his head.

"Nope." He replied, nonchalantly, "Who are they?"

"Friends of ours." I explained, stepping in, "They went missin' a year ago." Scotty looked at me, then to Dean, then back at me, "They passed through somewhere around here, and we've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem—"

I was cut off by Scotty handing back the flyers to Dean, "Sorry. We don't get many strangers around here." His lips were a hard line, looking at us both with disinterest of our search. Dean looked back at me, then to Scotty, nodding with a smirk.

"Scotty, you've got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that?" He quipped, earning Scotty to stare at him strangely. Dean chuckled wrapping an arm around my waist, "Never mind…see you around." He said to Scotty as we left.

Our next stop in the small community was to the general store and gas station, showing a man who introduced himself as Harley, the flyers.

"You sure they didn't stop for gas or something?" Dean asked Harley, who showed his wife, Stacy the flyers. Stacy looked up to us from the papers and shook her head.

"Nope, don't remember 'em." Harley said, looking to Dean and then me, "You said they were friends of yours?"

"That's right, sir." I replied, Dean and I looking up to see a younger woman descending the stairs carrying some boxes, apparently listening in on the conversation.

"Did the guy have a tattoo?" She asked.

Dean and I exchanged a look, "Yes, he did." I answered, watching her set down the boxes and looks at the picture of Vince, Harley was holding.

She nodded, tapping the image, and looked up to the older couple, "You remember? They were just married."

Like a light bulb had went off, Harley nodded after rubbing his chin, "You're right. They did stop for gas." He looked at us, nodding, "Weren't here more than ten minutes."

"You remember anything else?" Dean asked, hopeful.

"I told 'em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town." Harley replied, handing Dean the flyers.

I smiled at him in thanks, "Could you point us in that same direction?"

Harley nodded, "Sure."

In the car, I looked down at the flyers of Holly and Vince with a frown, "Didn't those people seem a little Stepford to you?" I asked, raising my head to look up at Dean. Eyes on the road still, he nodded.

"Yeah, like the good people of Burkittsville were a little too nice if ya ask me." He replied, glancing at me. Folding the paper, I tucked it away in my inside jacket pocket and scooted closer to Dean. With a chuckle, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, driving with his left hand. We were now driving down a small, one lane road out in the backcountry of Indiana. It was scenic as well, if you counted the vast apple orchard as scenic. The orchard had some history behind it, that was for sure, and it was clear that it was very well maintained. However, something about it was off.

Why you ask? Simple. I was a walking EMF meter. If I didn't like it, Dean didn't like it.

The handmade EMF meter in the backseat even backed up my uneasy feelings when it started to wailing loudly from within our bag, "What the hell?" Dean asked, soon pulling over as I slid out of my seat and opened our bag, fumbling around inside the contents for our EMF meter.

"Well, that's not weird at all." I quipped, showing the meter to him, looking out to the orchard.

_Nothing_ about an ancient apple orchard should be creepy. Hanging close to Dean, we took notice of the small flowering buds, and as stupid as it sounded, it had put me in mind of our little blip currently residing on my bladder.

"You okay?" Dean asked suddenly.

I smile lightly, sort of confused about his question. There was a lot of things that I could say, _I'm fine_ about. "Yeah, why?"

His brow arched, "Well, for one, we've been attached at the hip since we got here. Two, you've been antsy about this orchard."

My smile faded, "Oh…that."

He nodded, "Yeah, _that_. Something I should look out for?" I shrugged, looking around the area from where we stood.

"Not entirely." I admitted, "It's just… creepy." My shoulders lifted in a small shrug, "More so, since the EMF meter picked up on somethin'."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "Babe, you're a walking EMF meter. As soon as we got into this town you were already picking up on something." I stared at Dean for a good long moment, mystified at him. I don't give the man enough credit to how in tune he is with me. I laughed, wrapping my arms around his waist as we continued deeper into the orchard.

Something had caught his eye. "Whoa." Dean said suddenly, stopping.

I looked around curiously, tilting my head to find what he was looking at. Lo and behold the creepiest and the ugliest looking scarecrow ever in existence. The stringy-looking hair, big black, and empty sockets for eyes, and marred 'flesh' just added to the creepiness tenfold. I shied back slightly, frowning at the thing.

I mean, _seriously_, this thing was so ugly that it must've fallen from the top of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down, before the tree itself fell on it. That's what I thought of the scarecrow. And not to mention the _insanely _creepy vibes rolling off of it and hit me like a ton of bricks. I shied back, out of Dean's arms and frowned. He watched me intently before looking to the scarecrow, taking a few steps towards it with a skewed face, measuring in disgust.

"Dude, you fugly." He muttered, earning a shocked look from me.

"Don't say that." I hissed, swatting his arm, causing him to look back at me with a teasing smirk

"What? _Scared_?" He jested, looking back to the scarecrow, "It's just a scarecrow, Abs."

My frown deepened, eyes moving up noticing a sickle in its hand. Dean's eyes followed to what I was looking at, then glanced back at me. Judging the look in his eyes, I knew he wanted to take a closer look. Wordlessly, I looked at Dean when he grabbed a nearby ladder and packed it over to where the fugly thing was hanging from.

"Since when are scarecrows armed?" I asked, earning a mutual look of skepticism from Dean.

"That's what I'm saying." He replied, climbing up the ladder to get a better look at the weapon. Upon further inspection from where I stood, I wrinkled my nose with distaste seeing dark and leathery looking skin. My stomach flopped. _Oh boy_.

Dean lifted the arm of the scarecrow up, pushing back the gauzy material that was draped over its arm, revealing an odd marking, "Come over here and balance this thing," Dean instructed.

I nodded, warily approaching it. It was like the damn thing came out of _Jeepers Creepers_. I shivered. I hated that movie. Firmly grasping each leg of the ladder, I planted a foot on the bottom step when Dean reached into his pockets, digging out a flyer to compare something. The longer I stared that the scarecrow, I swear I could hear a faint whisper of an ancient foreign language in the back of my mind, followed the sound of screams, and the squelching sound of blood splattering. Something had to be linked to this thing.

Oh so softly, I heard an old sentence in the back of my mind; _og med blodet av dem det er skikk å formilde gudene._**

Dean made a sound from above, indicating he found something. I broke eye contact with the scarecrow and looked to the back of Dean's head, "What is it?"

"Nice tat." Dean commented, showing me the grisly, leathery marking similar to that of Vince Parker's tattoo. We glanced to the scarecrow's face, warily.

* * *

_**Burkittsville Gas Station**_

Pulling back in at shady Burkittsville, we stopped by the general store and gas station combo. Dean shut off the car next to the gas pump and got out. The girl from earlier, and what seemed to be the only non-shady person in the whole town, stood by the pumps with a kind smile, looking the car over. She smiled to Dean when he got out.

"You're back." She said.

"Never left." Dean answered.

"Still looking for your friends?" She asked Dean with a smile. Dean answered back with a short nod, leaning on the back of the car and patted it.

"You mind fillin' her up there, Emily?" He asked, upon noticing her nameplate. Smiling still, she grabbed a pump and starts filling up the gas tank. I got out to stretch my legs, leaning over the roof of the Impala, observing her.

"So, you grew up here?" I asked her.

Emily looked to me, "I came here when I was thirteen." She explained, "I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in." I nodded, understanding and looked to Dean. From the observing look he gave me, I could tell he was indicating that I had found something in common with this girl. A kindred spirit if you could say.

I nodded to the store, "They're nice people?"

Emily laughed, "Everybody's nice here."

Dean turned his body, folding his arms, "So, what, it's the, uh, perfect little town?"

She shrugged, "Well, you know, it's the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms." Emily shook her head, looking a bit sorrowful about reality, "But here," She looked to the buildings in town, "it's almost like we're blessed." Dean's eyes never left mine. He nodded, taking a breath.

"Hey, you been out to the orchard?" I asked, "You seen that scarecrow?"

Emily laughed, nodding, "Yeah, it creeps me out." The three of us shared a mutual, lighthearted laugh. It was true. I wasn't even near it, and it freaked me out.

"Whose is it?" Dean asked.

Emily shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. It's just always been there."

A red van parked by the garage caught Dean's attention and he motioned his head towards it, "That your aunt and uncle's?"

She shook her head no, "Customer." She explained, "Had some car troubles."

I rapped my fingers in a light rhythm, growing concerned, "It's not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?" Emily looked between Dean and me, a little confused, but nodded. Taking a quick look at Dean, he appeared to be just as concerned as I was.

* * *

_**Scotty's Café—Day**_

_**Burkittsville, Indiana**_

Next stop: Scotty's Café. Walking in to the establishment, we allowed our eyes time to adjust seeing Scotty serving the couple whose car broke down, apple pies. They looked up at him in surprise.

He smiled to them, "We're famous for our apples. So, you gotta try this pie."

The girl looked embarrassed, "Oh, no. It—please."

"It's on the house." Scotty assured, though somehow.

Dean stared at the embarrassed couple for a moment before he looked to Scotty with a smile, "Oh, hey, Scotty. Can I get a coffee, black? And, a water for the pregnant lady?" He asked, wrapping an arm around me with that childish grin of his in play. Scotty nodded and walked away to get it, "Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you're at it." I rolled my eyes at him, secretly admiring how he was playing the pregnant girlfriend card now. Grabbing my hand, he led me to the table nearest to the couple and we sat down.

Dean then nodded to the couple, "How ya doin'?" He asked, earning a wave and a smile from the couple, "Just passing through?"

The girl smiled, "Road trip."

"Yeah, us too." He said, reaching out to take hold of my hand and patted it, "Figured we'd mark things off our list before the baby comes." The couple nodded at us as Scotty walked over to refill their cider.

"I'm sure these people want to eat in peace." Scotty told us sternly.

I smiled up at him, "Just a little friendly conversation."

Scotty turned to walk away, "Oh, and that coffee, too, man. Thanks." Dean told him, earning an agitated look from the Café's owner as he turned back to the couple to talk, "So, what brings you to town?"

"We just stopped for gas. And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives." The girl said, smiling endearingly to her significant other.

Dean nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "Is that right?"

The man nodded, "Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us."

A concerned look drew Dean's brows together, "Nice people."

"Yeah." The man agreed.

I placed my elbow on the table, resting my temple against my fist, "So, how long till you're up and runnin'?" I asked.

"Sundown." The man replied, taking a bite of his apple pie.

Dean looked to me quickly, "Really." He fell silent to think, "To fix a brake line?" The man nodded, "I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn't charge you anything." He offered, "You don't mind that, do you, honey?"

I smiled, shaking my head at him, "Oh, no. It's fine. Anything to get these nice people on their way."

The girl gave us an uncomfortable look, "You know, thanks a lot, but I think we'd rather have a mechanic do it."

"Sure. I know." Dean paused, "You know, it's just that these roads. They're not real safe at night." As the couple beside us exchanged an uneasy look, I gave him one that asked, 'What are you doing, Dean Winchester?' He replied with a look that pretty well said, 'Relax, I got this.'

_I'm sure you do, Dean._ I thought wryly, sitting back in my seat.

"I'm sorry?" The girl asked, look to me first, then to Dean. It was clear that they thought he was a loon.

Dean chuckled, "I know it sounds strange, but, uh—you might be in danger."

The man gave him an annoyed expression, "Look, we're trying to eat. Okay?"

"Yeah." He replied, giving me a disappointed look. The couple seemed worried, but not good enough to cut and run out of town. Dean leaned forward, just a hair, "You know, Sam could give them the puppy dog look, and they'd just buy right into it." I nodded, knowing all too well about Sam's little puppy dog look. Instantly, in the pit of my stomach, sat a guilty knot. I frowned, patting Dean's arm, but deeply missed our little brother.

The bell above the café door jingled and someone walked in, earning a curious look from me, when Scotty walked out from the back room to greet none other, but the Sheriff. I looked to Dean nervously, who gave me a mutually nervous look. My leg fidgeted from under the table at the Sheriff.

"Thanks for coming, Sheriff." Scotty greeted him before whispering something into the sheriff's ear, and the both looked at us. We looked away, Dean muttering curses from under his breath when the Sheriff approached us.

"I'd like a word, please." The Sheriff told us.

Dean leaned back in his chair, blowing out a heavy sigh, "Come on. I'm having a bad day already."

The Sheriff looked to him, then to me with a stern look, "You know what would make it worse?" he asked Dean in a threatening tone. Dean nodded, frustrated. Civvies always shied away from his not-so-subtle warnings, therefore, as a result, brought in reinforcement. Which was unnecessary.

Heading towards the interstate, Dean would look into the rearview mirror, eyes narrowed to the Sheriff's car as it followed behind us closely. We had reached the interstate, ascending the ramp before the sheriff had turned around and drove back to Stepford-ville.

"They sure as hell didn't want us snoopin' around didn't they?" I asked, glancing to Dean.

He nodded, "Yeah. They _really_ didn't like the thought of us trying to scare that couple away either." Dean then pulled the car over, just as an irritated breath passed through his lips and he leaned his head back against the headrest, "This is too weird, Abs."

I nodded, "You just don't know, Dean." We fell silent. "So, what now?"

Hazel eyes met mine, "It's not too long before sundown. I suggest we sit pretty and then head to the orchard."

With a nervous frown, I nodded.

* * *

_**Orchard—Night**_

Nights in early April was still chilly. Out in the orchard was not only chilly, but it was spooky. Holding my light tightly, I scanned the surrounding trees for signs of life. This had to be one of my least favorite places now, but for the sake of the couple from the café's lives, I had to suck it up. I wound my free arm around me to tighten the fit of my jacket, and shivered from the anticipation of this job.

Dean looked up from the EMF meter, assessing me. "You good?"

I looked over to him, "Yeah. Why?"

He shrugged, "Just makin' sure you weren't creeped out or cold."

I smiled at him, sidestepping to get closer to him, and felt the warmth of his body. He wrapped an arm around my waist in a single-armed hug, "Creeped out, yes. Cold, no." I answered, looking up at him.

"Good. Thought I was the only one." He muttered, earning a small giggle from me until we heard a pair of screams from deep within the orchard. A sliver of fear ran up my spine. _Shit._

Dean and I broke out into a run, gripping our weapons as we searched for the couple we saw at the diner. As we ran further into the orchard, I looked into the shadow of night, searching for something that had made this orchard insanely off-putting. In fact, there _was_ something.

Aside from the terrified screams, the sounds of running, and Dean and I running; there was movement. It was quick and daunting, much like the Wendigo back in Blackrock, Colorado. Except, this wasn't a Wendigo.

I faltered behind Dean, hearing the same whisper of that ancient language before the couple came running towards us in a clearing. We stopped, as they did, the woman screaming, _still_.

"Get back to your car." Dean instructed, upon seeing the scarecrow from earlier, advancing towards us. He looked to me as I stood there, slack-jawed. Was this for real? Sometimes, I really _hated_ my freaky-deaky ESP, supernatural awareness crap. And to beat it all, that scarecrow was the source of that ancient language. Again, I was right in my own self-argument.

_It_ was speaking and _I_ was listening; _så hellig er som å hedningene at hvert tre i det antas å være guddommelig grunn av offerets død.**_

I pushed the couple towards the road, "Go! Go!" They took off running as Dean cocked his gun and fired at the scarecrow, which stumbled but kept walking. Dean turned his head to look at me with wide eyes, shocked that the thing was still moving.

We sure as hell weren't in Kansas anymore, Toto.

Dean grabbed my arm, tugging me to start running. As we did, he cocked his gun and fired at the scarecrow. Knowing that the shot had hit it, the scarecrow didn't falter or slump to the ground, nor did it jump around singing '_If I Only Had A Brain'_. Oh no. This wasn't the little happy scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, it was _far_ from it. This was the scarecrow that had a mix of _Jeepers Creepers_ and _Sling-blade_ and a dash of crack.

It just kept coming. Running out of options, Dean fired once again, and it was futile. I slapped his arm down, "Quit wastin' bullets, Dean and run!"

We caught up to the couple, ushering them to keep running until we had come back to the clearing. Dean and I cocked our weapons and looked around, but the scarecrow had disappeared. My heart was hammering inside my chest, allowing myself to lower my gun and eventually, let it fall to the ground, as I placed my hands on my thighs to catch my breath.

The man, who's name we found out was Steve, looked around as well, panting, "What—what the hell was that?"

I looked up, nauseated from the vast amount of running, "Don't ask." I replied, glancing over to Dean, who had lowered his weapon and was now looking at me, concerned.

* * *

_**Motel—Night**_

By now, we had found ourselves a motel to crash for a few hours. Somehow, the language from the scarecrow in the orchard had been on replay, and I couldn't get it out of my head, no matter what I did. So, I did what any good-natured huntress would do. Research.

And _my_, what an outcome I had gotten.

"So, tell me again how you found this out?" Dean asked, playing with his cellphone.

Scanning the translator website, I rubbed my head, "I don't know, Dean. It's just a never-ending playback."

He blinked, "Of what?"

"Ancient Norse. German…" I tapped the side table with the pen I held in between my fingers, "There is _'eaucoups_ of different languages with _this_ certain sentence." I said, pointing to it. Dean leaned down to peer at the screen, his hands resting on my shoulders as he looked.

"_The blood of them it is the custom to appease the gods_?" Dean read aloud, albeit, thrown off, "The hell kind of saying is _that?_"

"Pagan." I said, "It's from a sacrifice ritual that late Germanic tribes, even Norse tribes did."

He nodded, thinking. "So, we're dealing with a Pagan god." Dean's face pulled into an approving look, "It makes sense." He patted my shoulders, "Say it again."

I rolled my eyes, "_og med blodet av dem det er skikk å formilde gudene._" I recited, "Another part is this; _så hellig er som å hedningene at hvert tre i det antas å være guddommelig grunn av offerets død._"

Dean looked at me dumbfounded, "Meaning?"

I shrugged, "Hold on, let me _try_ to type it in." As I typed, I noticed from the corner of my eye, Dean pacing and looking down at his phone, "Call him." He looked up, startled.

"What?" He asked.

I sighed, "Dean, I know you want to call Sam. Do it. I know he'd like to hear from you."

Dean shook his head, "No, I want to know what you just said in that freaky-deaky language you just spit out."

My brow arched at him, "It means, _so sacred is as to the Gentiles that each tree in it is believed to be divine because of the victim's death and putrefaction._" He grimaced, "I know. Grotey. The Germanic version is worse."

"So, Pagan." Dean repeated, "It would explain the annual cycle of its killings."

"And the fact that the vics are always a man and a woman, like some fertility right." I said, frowning slightly. That could've easily had been us. And I was as fertile as it could come, hence the small bump and tight pants that I was too stubborn to admit.

"Don't get me started on the locals," Dean added, "It was like they were fattenin' 'em up like a Christmas turkey."

I nodded, "Like it was their last meal."

He nodded, "Precisely." I sighed, shutting the lid to my newly acquired laptop and stood up, stretching. Dean smirked, watching appreciatively as I raised my arms above my head, entwining them. Letting my arms fall shortly after, I walked over to mine and Dean's bag, tugging out some of my night clothes. I severely needed a shower. It just seemed mandatory to do it.

* * *

_**Dean's Point of View**_

Despite the freaky revelation of Abigail _hearing_ the scarecrow _talk_, of all things, I had to admit that she made some valid points of our Stepford-esque town of Burkittsville. It had explained so much, with so little information. With what Abigail had _heard_, and understood, she had made quick work with researching the roots of it. It made sense and it had started to come together.

There was also something that Abigail was hiding. Something that had unnerved her. I wanted so badly to know what had made her uncomfortable, to see if there were any way of me being able to help take off some of the stress. I had first noticed it back in Rockford at the asylum, but didn't say anything. Perhaps letting her warm up to tell me was going south.

_Was her senses growing?_ A though slipped into my mind. I frowned. That was all I needed. Another hurdle. Sure, I was fine with Abigail having that freaky supernatural awareness ability, but for it to keep growing? I frowned. That would explain her knowing that sacrificial ritual off the top of her head and finding it so quickly. She needed to spill.

Despite the one of many flaws of hers, I loved and cared about Abigail _so_ deeply, the thought of ever losing her caused me to grow weak in the knees. She and Sam was my reason of keeping a level head, my reason for getting out of bed and fighting the good fight. Every time I had fell, Abigail was _always_ there to pick me back up. _Always_. There was never a time she wasn't, much like it was now. Sam had left and she didn't. I was thankful for that.

I watched her fumble through our bag of clothes in search of something to sleep in quietly, noticing how her jeans were beginning to grow tight on her. One thing I knew about Abigail is that she is the most stubborn woman I've ever met. "Looks like it's about time to get you some new pants, ain't it?" I said, smirking to her in hopes of starting a good-natured argument.

Abigail straightened up, peering down at her pants innocently, "No. They still got some use in them."

I snorted, "Admit it, Abs. You fight with them every time."

"Nope. They're still good." She replied flippantly, turning her back to me.

I rolled my eyes at her, knowing she was lying. "Women."

"Yeah, we give you such a hard time." She countered in mock-sarcasm, smiling at me from over her shoulder.

"At least I'll have someone to back me up in a few months." I countered, throwing her my infamous grins as I crossed the room over to Abigail and enveloped her in an embrace; my hands splayed across Abigail's growing waist. A soft giggle escaped from her pressing her body against mine. My breath hitched in my chest as she done so.

We stood like this for a good long while when Abigail slowly moved her hands over mine while underneath my hands, growing within her was a human being. Something that we had created _together_. That was something that no one was going to take from me. Not now, not ever, and I _refused_ it. I reached up to push away her hair, leaning in to plant long, drawn-out kisses over the exposed flesh from her tank top. She tipped her head to the side, exposing more of her soft, sensitive flesh, to which, I savored until a faint sigh passed through her lips.

It was like a match had been struck deep within me. All signs of playfulness had been replaced by desire. I wanted to feel her—_all_ of her. I removed my hands from Abigail's stomach, moving them up the back of her shirt until I had found her hair where I threaded my fingers throughout the length of it and finally settled at her roots, tugging gently at them. Another sigh escaped, that had turned into a soft moan shortly after, made it hard for me to keep my composure.

Releasing her hair, I grasped Abigail by the shoulders and twisted her around, coming in contact with those haunting blue eyes of hers. My throat caught in my chest once more as I stared, mystified. Already, my mind was at least ten steps ahead of me. I was already itching to peel her clothes off, to feel her squirming underneath me like she had done so many times, and to taste the sweat off her skin. In one foul swoop, I cupped the back of her head and drew her in for a kiss so heated, the moment her lips had crashed into mine, it was like there was no place else I'd rather be.

It was just me and Abigail.

I felt Abigail's arms fly around my neck eagerly, her nails raking against my scalp as she pressed her body against mine in a desperate move, parting her lips allowing me to delve my tongue into her mouth. I lifted her up by her bottom, her legs wrapping around my waist with ease. It wasn't hard to find the wall to lean her up against. In fact, the moment I did, she moved her hands to my shoulders, pushing my jacket off of them with an impatient moan. I chuckled, pressing my hips against hers to hold her still, shrugging the jacket off before I reached for the hem of her shirt, tugging it off with ease.

Abigail and I briefly parted our lips until we were kissing each other voraciously again, leaving the lacy black bra of hers on. It enhanced her swollen breasts quite a bit, which was a nice view by the way. She curved her back, pushing her breasts against my chest. We had parted our lips once again.

"Dean…" I heard Abigail usher in a whiney tone, peering up at me with her brows furrowed and bottom lip pushed out in a pout. I laughed, albeit breathless like her, catching the look of desire residing in her eyes. She grabbed the hem of my undershirt and with ease, she tugged it off, throwing it to the floor.

Winding an arm around her waist, I unhook her bra with expertise, allowing the straps to sink down her arms. Pulling the lacey piece away, I tossed it to the floor, carefree. The sight of her swollen breasts cause my jeans to tighten further.

_The perks of pregnancy,_ I thought with a sly smirk, staring down at the beauties. By now, her nipples had puckered in taut peaks as I brushed my other hand up and down her side, warily looking up at her, knowing that they had been bothering her. She nodded slowly, eyes begging. I smirked, planting swift kisses down her neck until I reached her chest. Abigail rested her head against the wall, eyes sliding shut once I enclosed a nipple between my lips and oh-so-gently, sucked.

A loud gasp tore through as she raked her nails through my hair once again, drawing my head closer to her, "_Dean…_"

Through the haze and the heat of the moment—_ha, Asia reference_—I listened to her moan and gasp and plead with each suck and nip I made on her sensitive breast. Taking one from my mouth, I looked up at her, seeing her face red with ecstasy, "What's wrong?"

She opened her eyes wide, "Nothin'."

I smirked, "You want me to quit?"

Abigail shook her head quickly, almost in horror. _Like I would do that to her._ Then all at once, _she_ did the unthinkable. She let her legs down, gripping my shoulders tightly from fear of falling. I blinked, astonished by her. Her eyes swiveled towards the bathroom, and I grinned, instantly catching on, "Ooh. A challenge."

She laughed, "Two birds with one stone."

I wasted no time with her. Grabbing her hand, I guided her towards the bathroom, twisting the knob and pulling the stopper for the shower to kick on. As soon as the rushing sound of the shower sounded, I picked her up.

"What're you doing?" She asked, eyes wide, "It's cold still!"

I grinned pulling back the shower curtain, "Exactly, sugar-pie." She wriggled a little in my arms.

"We still have our pants on, Dean!" She stated, acting like she was worried about her pants.

I nodded. _No, duh._ I stepped in, back facing the shower head and jumped. As soon as the cold water hit my back I jumped. Shoulda waited, but what the hell.

"_Sweet Jesus!"_ Abigail shrieked out from the water hitting her, causing her to cling to me, body taut from the onslaught of cool water. I laughed. It was too hard _not_ to.

By now, we were both soaked to the bone, water dripping off our bodies. Abigail had loosened up and was now laughing. She was grinning up at me, cupping her hands on either side of my face, before she planted subtle kisses on my lips. I wrapped my arms around her tightly, slipping my tongue deep into her mouth, resuming what we had paused. Our tongues tangle and dance as she moaned once more.

Her hands trailed up my chest before sliding down, dipping a finger along the waistline of my jeans. It wasn't long that she had them unbuttoned, allowing me to unbutton hers. Impatient, Abigail shucked my jeans and underwear off, while I tugged hers off. When they fell to her feet, she stepped out of one leg before she bent over to take her foot from the other and tossed them out into the bathroom floor with a loud, wet slap. Mine were next to go.

I had Abigail tucked against the corner of the tub, my hands wandering her soaking body, sucking on the side of her neck. Abigail's nails were digging into my back by the time I grabbed her by her bottom again, lifting her up. Wrapping her legs around my waist, I fought back a groan feeling the apex of her sex come in contact with my evident arousal. What didn't help, was the fact that with slippery bodies, came with sliding down instead of staying put.

I wanted _so_ much more of her. _Needed_ more of her until it had come to the point where kissing wasn't enough. Gripping her tightly, I slid a hand down her stomach until I had reached that bundle of nerves that drove women wild. Right on cue, Abigail had gone from soft, tantalizing kisses, to her body convulsing and loud moans as I flicked my fingers across the hard nub with hard, confident strokes. I watched with burning desire as Abs rolled her hips against my hand, arching her back with each stroke while she dug her nails into the backs of my arms, and then watched her mouth gape when I slid my fingers in between her folds, plunging two fingers into her core without giving her time to acclimate herself.

"_Jesus Christ, Dean_." Abigail cried out, her back arching from pleasure as I began pumping my hand to a primal rhythm that had struck from deep within. Believe me, it was hard to keep a level head when she had begun to writhe her body against mine, by the time she had climaxed around my fingers; her chest was heaving, her eyelids half-closed; lashes stuck together from the water coming down on us from the shower.

I dragged my lips onto hers, gripping my erection with one hand and directed it between her legs. Shower sex was complicated and a lot of work, but it was totally worth it. With a swift thrust into her opening, I felt myself slide deep inside her. We both let out a hiss to acquaint our bodies, resting against each other's foreheads. Abigail tipped her head up, connecting our lips somewhere in the middle and I gripped her outer thighs, locking her ankles around my waist as I rocked into her; slow at first, but gradually gaining speed.

The sound of the shower, skin slapping against skin, and the combination of pleasure-induced moans melded with each other. It was damn near perfect if you'd ask me. That growing ball of tension right before the big moment was just about unbearable until we had become lost in each other over and over and over again. I didn't want this to end. Pump after pump, I felt myself ascend into cloud nine, the nerves in my body singing with electricity. I felt the familiar touch of the necklace I had made her hitting my chest with each thrust into her, every muscle in my body quivering with ecstasy.

Abigail's and I's breathing became faster. My grip on her hips became tighter, and our kissing became rougher. I felt my heart beating inside my chest, wondering every now and then if it was going to burst through each passing thrust. The more I had persisted, the more pleasurable it became until the time came where the both of us had climaxed that very second.

* * *

_**Abigail's Point of View**_

Dean stared into my eyes with wonder, letting go of my hip and lightly touched my face as if I were porcelain. It never got old to see and feel how vulnerable the man was, and that was something that I cherished deeply. Tenderly, Dean helped me down, keeping a firm grip on my arms as I wobbly stood on my own. We must've stayed in each other's arms for a while, because by the time we had decided to bathe, the water had turned ice cold. Laughing, Dean and I double-timed in the shower, quick to get bathed and quick to rinse off before Dean was back at his antics again.

The following morning, I was awoken to the sound of Dean talking on the phone to someone. I realized it had to be Sam. Stretching, I slowly sat up in the bed, letting the covers fall to my lap when I saw Dean sitting at the end of the bed, fully clothed.

"Yeah, I'm tellin' ya. Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun town." He said, before he looked over his shoulder, giving me a cheeky wink and a grin to match. His eyes fell to my exposed chest, brows raising in appreciation. "No. We can't cope without you, you know." He wisecracked Sam, smiling as he slid up in the bed beside me. Dean wrapped an arm around my waist, "No, it's more than a spirit. It's a god. A Pagan god, anyway."

He paused, listening to something Sam had said, "The annual cycle of its killings? And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. Like some kind of fertility right. Abs is having this weird, psychic Rosetta Stone thing where she can hear languages." I frowned, looking at Dean. "Yeah, get this, she understood ancient Norse. And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin' 'em up like a Christmas turkey." He explained, nodding. "Abs is thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan god." Sam said something else that ended with Dean saying, "And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won't wilt, and disease won't spread."

His lips drew in a line, "No, not yet." Dean fell silent, "I know. We're actually on our way to a local community college. Abs and I got an appointment with a professor. You know, since we don't have our trusty sidekick geek boy to do all the research." He grinned hearing Sam laugh on the other line. I heard him say something about a geek sister, causing Dean to snort with laughter, "Yeah, gotta new nickname for you two. Twin Geeks." I smiled softly, watching Dean and knowing that it was killing him not having Sam with us. Why? Because it was killing me. "I'm not hinting anything. Actually, uh—I want you to know….I mean, don't think…." He looked at me, and I patted his arm before I got out of bed. Padding to the bag, I pulled out a pair of pants, one of Dean's shirts, and the baggiest jacket I had, i.e. one of Sam's old jackets. I whistled to myself, allowing Dean to think I was in my own little world by the time I had walked into the bathroom.

"Sam. You were right." I heard Dean say suddenly, I held my underwear with one hand, listening. "You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life." He fell silent. "You've always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway….I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy." My bottom lip trembled. Why hadn't this been so much easier back then? Quietly, I rested my forehead against the door of the bathroom, allowing tears to free fall. "Say you'll take care of yourself." Dean was quiet again, "You know I will, Sam. Call me when you find Dad."

I quickly wiped away the tears, rushing to pull my underwear, jeans, bra, and shirt on, then opened the door, smiling sadly to Dean. Looking up at me, I saw that he was deeply saddened by their conversation. But I couldn't have been any prouder of him. Wordlessly, I took his cellphone from him and set it on the bed beside him, straddled his lap and laid my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. After a moment, Dean wrapped his arms around me tightly, planting a kiss to the top of my head, murmuring 'thank you' into my hair.

* * *

_**Community College**_

"It's not every day I get a research question on Pagan ideology." The professor said to Dean, watching his step as we descended down the stairs.

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, well, call it a hobby."

"But you said you were interested in local lore?" The professor asked.

"Mhmm." Dean replied, nodding.

"I'm afraid Indiana isn't really known for its Pagan worship." The professor said.

I shoved my hands into my pockets, looking to the professor, "Well, what if it was imported?" I asked, throwing my shoulders up in a mild shrug, "You know, like the Pilgrims brought their religion over. Wasn't a lot of this area settled by immigrants?"

The professor thought for a moment, "Well, yeah."

"Like that town near here, Burkittsville." Dean said, "Where are their ancestors from?"

"Uh, northern Europe, I believe, Scandinavia." Was the reply we received. Dean looked to me, while I looked at the professor.

"What could you tell us about those Pagan gods?" I found myself asking.

The professor rubbed his chin, "Well, there are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses."

"We're actually looking for one." Dean told him, "Might live in an orchard." Skeptical and in deep thought, the professor ushered us to follow him into his classroom that was nearby. Walking in, the professor walked over to a bookshelf where he scans the numerous books, until he tapped on a particularly large book, taking it from its place on the shelf and puts the large book down on the table, opening it.

We watched him silently, "Woods god, hm? Well, let's see." The professor murmured as he leafs through some pages. Dean leaned in, noticing a picture of a scarecrow on a post surrounded by farmers in a field.

"Wait, wait, wait." Dean said, stopping him, "What's that one?" He asked, pointing to the image.

"Oh, that's not a woods god, per se." The professor said, allowing Dean to look at it. I tilted my head.

"The Vanir?" I asked, seeing him nod. With furrowed brows, I scanned the writing depicting that the Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. _Hmm, _I thought, rubbing my chin with the backs of my knuckles, pausing what I was doing. Looking up to Dean, I pointed to a certain sentence that piqued my interest.

Dean looked to it, "_Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice._" He read aloud, looking up to me at my discovery, knowing. "One male, and one female." He glanced down to the book, pointing to the picture, "Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?"

The professor shrugged, "I suppose."

"This particular Vanir—it's energy sprung from the sacred tree?" Dean asked.

"Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic." The professor explained.

Dean nodded, giving me a smirk, "So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it'd kill the god?"

The professor laughed, "Son, these are just legends we're discussing."

I chuckled at the _wildly _absurd hypothesis that Dean said aloud. "Oh, of course. You're right." I held out my hand, therefore signaling that it was the end of our conversation, "Thank you very much, sir."

The professor offered a kind smile, "Glad I could help."

Outside, the day had dragged on. Dean had one hand shoved in his pockets with the other wrapped around my shoulders as we made our way back to the Impala.

"So this tree," Dean began, "is what gives the Vanir his go-go juice?"

I pulled a face, "Apparently so. Just…where this tree is at, is beyond me."

He stopped, "But you knew of the tree before we even got this professor guy to find it for us."

I shrugged, "Guess so."

Dean took my hand, stopping me, "You're hiding something, Abs." I gazed into his eyes calmly, "Is it something I should know?"

I shook my head, "Nothin' for you to worry about, Dean." His eyes bore into me sharply, saying otherwise. I sighed, _this was going to end up into an argument_, "Fine." I leaned against the side of the Impala crossing my arms, "I can see and hear things in the past when I walk into certain rooms or touch certain things now."

There was a look of disbelief etched into Dean's features. "You can _what_?"

"You heard me, Dean." I replied calmly, "Whatever I see or touch, it's like stepping into the past." I watched the muscle tick in his jaw as he assessed what I told him.

"When did this start?" he asked, quiet.

I hung my head, staring down at my shoes, ashamed, "Back in Lawrence…Sam's room."

When it had dawned on him, Dean took a step towards me, "You mean to tell me your abilities or whatever is growing—_has been_ growing for the past three weeks?"

I shrugged, "Guess so."

"And you didn't bother to _tell_ me?" He said, his anger rising along with his voice.

I looked up at him, "I told Sam."

Dean stared at me scrutiny, "Oh, you told Sam?" He stated incredulously, "That's great you can tell Sam no problems and not me."

"You're makin' a big deal out of this when it's _not_, Dean." I said.

"A big deal? Jesus _Christ,_ Abigail!" He more or less, yelled, "Of course this is a big deal! Why didn't you tell me but could tell Sam? Out of all the people in this world, the last person I would expect to hide something is you!"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "You wanna know why?"

"Yes!"

"I'll tell you why." I bit out, "Sam doesn't judge me like you do. He doesn't see me as some _freak_."

Dean scoffed again, rolling his eyes empathetically, "You said, not me, sister."

I pursed my lips, my anger spiking. "At least Sam understands where I'm coming from! You've always looked down to me like I had some third eye! Anything that is out of the ordinary, or not okay with you, you back up into a corner."

He gave me a cynical laugh, beginning to pace, "Oh really? I back up into a corner? That sounds oddly familiar to me. At least when a girl dumped me, I didn't go and shove pills up my nose! Admit it, you're terrified of rejection."

I looked at Dean, seething, "At least I didn't _fuck_ half the population just to get approval from them, unlike _you_."

"You don't get the privilege of playing that card on me." Dean snarled, "I never _once_ stooped to your level."

I slammed my hand on the hood of the car, Dean blinked in shock, "I didn't whore myself out like you did either!"

"This family needed money!" He yelled.

"And look where _you_ got it!" I screamed, "Sam is in _bum-fuck Egypt_ chasing a father that doesn't even give _two shits about_ _us_! And I'm stuck with an arrogant _asshole_ who doesn't even have a pot to piss in! Much less have a _fuckin'_ plan for this baby, you don't even want!"

Dean's chest heaved, eyes narrowed at me with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Is that what you think?"

I stared at him, pushing my chest out in defiance, "You damn right that's what I think."

He scoffed, glancing up to the sky and shook his head, "I don't believe this…"

Nerves shot, I shoved my hands into my pockets to prevent Dean from seeing how tore up I was getting. The instant I had said I what I said, I regretted it. And it was too late to apologize. "I should've went with Sam."

Dean narrowed his eyes at me, "_What_?"

"I'm not repeatin' ma'self." I snapped, glaring at him.

"Then you should've went." He replied curtly, "Hell, if anything, go and don't come back!" I stood frozen in my place at what he said. A painful knot resided in my stomach, "Leave! I don't need you!"

Fighting back tears, I turned on my heels and went to the back of the Impala, swinging the door opened and grabbed my spare bag of clothes and supplies, slamming it shut. I looked at him, slinging my bag over my shoulder and shook my head, failing to catch the first two tears that fell onto my shirt when I turned and walked away from him. Even when I heard the loud bang of Dean's fist colliding with the metal of the Impala, I forced myself to not run back to him. I couldn't show him that I was weak. I had to prove that I meant what I said.

I made it as far as the outskirts of Burkittsville before my anger had dwindled off. Regret had replaced it, as well as a healthy dose of guilt. John would've kicked my ass for leaving Dean behind on a job by himself, and John would've kicked Dean's ass for being an ass. Hell, it probably wouldn't have happened in the first place if he wasn't gone. By now, my cellphone had felt like it weighed a ton in my pocket. I pulled it out, looking down at the screen and didn't see any voicemails or texts from Dean, nor Sam—which was odd.

I pressed Dean's number and put it up to my ear. After three rings, it went into voicemail. Frowning, I hit 'End Call', placing the phone back into my pocket. The sun was beginning to hang lower in the sky, meaning that night was going to come soon and it was going to get cold really quick. I situated the strap of my bag on my shoulder and pressed on down the road, staying true to what I said. There was no turning back at this point.

By the time I had made it to the beginning of the ramp to the interstate, the traffic there was sparse, but a few came and went. I was shivering, tugging my jacket around me tighter. A car passed me by heading towards Burkittsville, only to come to a screeching halt. I stopped walking, turning to the stopped vehicle in the middle of the road. _I was going to get kidnapped._ I thought, reaching for my gun within my jacket when the driver door swung open and someone got out.

"Abigail?!" It was Sam.

My eyes widened, "Sammy?!" I dropped my bag seeing Sam stopping at the end of the car he was driving and ran towards him, practically tackling him into an embrace.

"Jesus Christ, Abigail." Sam muttered, "You're cold!" He looked at me in shock, "What are you doing out here? Where's Dean?"

I looked at him shame-faced, "We, uh…got in a fight."

He nodded, urging me to continue.

"In short, I'm walking to Sacramento to find you. _And_ Dad." I finished, "But here you are."

Sam pulled me into another embraced, touched. "Abigail, you didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, well. I did." I said, "Dean told me to leave and never come back."

Sam grimaced, "That sounds familiar."

I pulled a face, agreeing. "So, anyhoo. What are you doing _here_?"

"I called Dean, like four times and I couldn't get an answer. Then I called you, you didn't answer." He said, "You're phone isn't dead, is it?"

I shook my head, "It shouldn't be." I pulled it out, seeing five missed calls. I pressed my lips in a thin line. I had the damn thing on Silent Mode.

Sam was chuckling, "Silent Mode."

"Hush." I said, glancing up at the sky, "If Dean hasn't answered our calls, then he's obviously onto somethin' about the orchard." I frowned, "Or, if it's backfired, that's where we'll find him."

Sam nodded, "Alright. We need to go before something bad happens."

I jogged over to my bag, picked it up, and jogged over to the passenger door of the car he was driving and arched my brow at him. He shrugged at me.

"What?" He asked.

"Sammy." I said, "Where'd you get this?"

He smile sheepishly at me, "I, uh, stole it."

I laughed out of glee, slapping the roof, "_That's_ my Sammy!"

We got in and sped off, back towards Burkittsville.

* * *

_**Orchard—Night**_

It was well past dark by the time Sam and I made it to the orchard. He looked at it, astounded by how manicured and well-treated it was as we made our way through. I had been alert at every sound, every rustle from within the trees.

"So this scarecrow, you heard it speak?" Sam asked, glancing around as we came closer to where the creepy thing was.

I nodded, "Yeah. It was in ancient Norse, like from Scandinavia." The voices of people alerted Sam and me from ahead. We stopped, hunkering down until we both heard a distinct voice ask, "You don't have a plan, do you?"

"I'm workin' on it." Another voice replied in a slightly panicked tone, it had to have been Dean. "Can you see?"

"What?" the other voice said.

"Is he moving yet?" Dean asked.

The closer we got, Dean's question hit me in the face with reality. The scarecrow was about to animate itself in the matter of minutes! Sam and I weaved between trees, seeing the outlines of Dean and Emily, from the general store, tied up to a tree. Apparently our approach seemed to cause Emily to panic, because I heard her mutter _Oh my God_, over and over. Dean was struggling with his ropes.

Sam and I stepped out from behind a tree. "Dean?" We asked in unison."

"Abs! Sam!" Dean said, completely overjoyed to see us, "Oh! Oh, I take _everything_ back I said to you two! I'm so happy to see you guys!" He wriggled in his ropes, "Come on." Sam went to untie Dean, while I went to Emily, flashing her a kind smile, "How'd you guys get here?"

"I, uh—I stole a car." Sam admitted, throwing me a proud smirk.

Dean laughed, "Haha! That's my boy!" He cheered, "What about Abs?"

"She was almost to the interstate by the time I found her." Sam replied.

"So, you were leaving?" He asked me, looking around the tree to best of his abilities. "Hey, keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute."

Sam looked at me, "What scarecrow?"

My eyes widened, "_Shit_." Dean and Emily got up from their places, as we gathered in front of the trees. The post it was on, was empty.

"Okay, so, we need to start running." Dean said, taking me by the arm and urged Emily to do the same. We nodded, taking off towards the way to the road.

"Alright, now, this sacred tree you're talking about—" Sam began, trying to catch up.

"It's the source of its power." I repeated, having explained it to him back in the car.

He nodded, "So let's find it and burn it."

Dean waved at Sam, "Nah, in the morning. Let's just shag ass before Leather Face catches up." He quipped as we reached the clearing. Waiting for us with flashlights in tow, was the townspeople of Burkittsville. Dean stopped short, looking for another way, "This way." We turned, only to be block from all directions by more locals, this time, with weapons.

"Please." Emily begged her aunt and uncle, "Let us go."

Harley looked at his niece sadly, "It'll be over quickly, I promise."

"Please…" Emily begged.

"Emily, you have to let him take you. You have to—," Harley's words were cut short all of a sudden in a grunt of pain. He looked down, seeing the tip of a sickle protruding from his stomach. Emily and her aunt, Stacy screamed. Then Stacy is captured by the scarecrow, too. Emily flew screaming into Dean's arms, hiding her face while the scarecrow drug the elderly couple away. The rest of the townspeople running too, out of fright. I stood beside Sam quietly with mixed emotions, looking from the fading, scattering people of Burkittsville to the ominous looking apple trees in the orchard—anything to keep myself from looking at Dean, which was what I knew he was hoping for.

There was a noise from behind us, and we turned around seeing nothing. It was eerily quiet again. The scarecrow had its victims for the year.

"Come on, let's go." Dean said, looking to me and Sam. There had been enough excitement for today.

* * *

_**Orchard—Next Morning**_

Sam, Dean, Emily, and I walked through the orchard, approaching the sacred tree with a gallon of gasoline and a lighter. Ahead, the sacred tree we were looking for stood out like a sore thumb. It was marked like the tattoo Vince Parker had on his wrist, and I smirked. Oh the irony.

Gasoline in tow, Sam and I walked up to the tree and poured it on it while Dean stood behind us, picking up a branch and lit it.

"Let me." I heard Emily say. I glanced over my shoulder seeing Emily looking at Dean.

"You know, the whole town's gonna die." Dean told her, sincerely.

Taking the burning branch she stared at him, "Good." She threw the burning branch onto the tree after Sam and I took a few precautionary steps away from it with the empty gas jugs, watching as it went up in flames.

To my right, I felt a soft nudge capturing my attention from the inferno that was the tree, looking over to see Dean looking at me. Saying nothing, he motioned his head to follow him. So, I did. Sam turned upon us leaving, getting ready to follow us until Dean shook his head. Sam's eyes fell on me, understanding that he wanted to talk to me in private. He nodded, staying beside Emily as she watched the nightmarish tree burn.

In silence we walked a good fifty yards away from the tree and Sam, not touching each other until Dean walked ahead in order to cut me off, stopping me a couple of inches away from his body. He was looking down at me, assessing what to say or do when he grabbed the sides of my face with his hands and kissed me with a fierce eagerness behind it. It was sweet, yet urgent the more he lingered, and so help me _God_, the man was irresistible at coaxing me to giving in, I just knew it was going to be the death of me one day.

So, willingly, I allowed myself to forget the events of yesterday. Willingly, I allowed myself to get over the hurdle of selfish anger I held on him. All that was left was the regret I held in my chest from the nasty things I said to him.

The moment Dean had pulled away slightly, I was breathless and ashamed, clutching at his back, afraid of letting go. My eyes were squeezed shut to prevent the waterworks from starting up, so I leaned my head down until the small space that Dean and I had, was met by the feeling of Dean's forehead against mine, as well as the tips of our noses. Alas, a few tears had squeezed past and slid down, only to be caught by his hands. His thumbs wiped them away, tilting my head up for me to look at him in the eye.

Within those hazel eyes of his, I saw copious amounts of regret and apology residing in them, "Are we good?"

I looked at him through tear-soaked lashes, "Do you still want me to leave and never come back?"

His eyes filled with unshed tears, "No." He all but whispered, "Abs, I can't take what I said back. And I know you can't do the same. I'm an ass." His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, "But don't _ever_ think for a minute that I don't want this baby. _I do_." Dean's jaw clenched, looking down, "When I saw you leave, I thought you were lyin' because we do this all the time. And then, you didn't come back-" He swallowed a knot in his throat, "A million different things played in my head; _bad things_. I didn't know what happened to you, if they got you—if _Jeepers Creepers_ took you." I nodded slowly, understanding. He kissed me again, slipping his tongue in my mouth to explore the same layout that he's been exploring for the past six years.

When we pulled away for the second time, he pressed his lips firmly against my forehead before whispering, "I need you."

I leaned my body into his, wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my head against his shoulder, replying, "I know you do."

His arms went around my waist, drawing me in closer to him, his left hand finding it's way to the back of my head where he placed a firm, yet gentle pressure.

* * *

_**Bus Stop**_

The three of us stood at the bus stop, watching as Emily boarded a bus to Boston. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled to Dean, who waved at her. She waved back to him before taking her seat, and the bus slowly pulled away from the curb.

"You think she's gonna be alright?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged, "I hope so."

"And the rest of the townspeople, they'll just get away with it?" Sam asked again.

I patted his shoulder, "Well, what'll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough." I replied, "What is punishment enough for this bow-legged beauty here is, I'm driving." Dean looked at me wide-eyed and genuinely worried about his car, "And there will be _no_ rock music."

"You're a cruel, cruel woman." Dean muttered, "Kick a man while he's down."

I smirked, snatching the keys from his hand, "So, can I drop you off anywhere?" I asked, looking at Sam.

He smiled, "No, I think you're both stuck with me."

Dean arched his brow, "What made you change your mind?"

Sam shrugged, "I didn't." I replied, "I still wanna find Dad. And you're still a pain in the ass." Dean nodded, agreeing, "But, Jess and Mom—they're both gone. Dad is God knows where. You, Abigial, and me. We're all that's left." I smiled at my little brother, "So, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together."

Dean paused, "Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful." He puts his hand on Sam's shoulder, who swatted it away. We all started laughing.

"You should be kissing mine and Abby's ass," Sam countered, "you were dead meat, dude."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right. I had a plan, I'd have gotten out."

I laughed, twirling the Impala keys around my finger, "_Right_. And I am not afraid of spiders."

Dean and Sam grinned at me while they got in; Dean the passenger seat up front, Sam in the backseat. I started up the Impala, immediately switching the station to country, as Travis Tritt's _Great Day to Be Alive_ started playing and Dean groaned.

"Really?" he whined out.

I grinned at him, "You know the rules, papa bear. Driver picks the music—,"

"Shotgun shuts his cakehole." Dean grumbled out.

Sam and I laughed as I pulled out and got out onto the insterstate.

* * *

**A/N: Hello Everyone! So Chapter 13 of _Bad Company_ is OUT! And a day after the Premier of Season 10! How was the episode?! Don't spoil it for me, I still have yet to catch up to Season 9! My husband did the unthinkable a few months back and DELETED every episode of Season 9 on the DVR. So, I'm heartbroke, yet ecstatic for Netflix putting it on!**

* * *

**I want to apologize to you guys for taking so long! For your guys' wait, I even put in a little something-something for ya! Also, it's like, the fifth or sixth chapter that didn't have any risque' moments! And how about that knock-down drag-out between Abigail and Dean? Jeez, talk about low-blows from both parties!**

**And I guess ya'll are wondering about what I had put in there: **__og med blodet av dem det er skikk å formilde gudene **AND** _så hellig er som å hedningene at hvert tre i det antas å være guddommelig grunn av offerets___ _død_.

**Essentially, what I did, was go into _The Supernatural (TM) Book of Monsters, Spirits, Demons, and Ghouls _book that I have and went to the chapter with the Vanir. That sacrifical ritual? I used two sentences from it, went to a translator website and got it to spit out Norwegian. But, Abigail translates it shortly after saying it.**

**But for those who don't feel like searching back through, like me, here's the sentences translated: _and with the blood of those it is the custom to plactate the gods.__  
_**

**The second sentence is: _so holy is that grove to the heathens that each tree in it is presumed to be divine by reason of the victim's death and putrefaction._**

**Personally, I liked what the translator had. It sounded better both in Norwegian and German. haha.**

* * *

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**Like always, I am always open for new ideas, plots, schemes, tidbits of shows/movies that you'd like to see in this fanfic! All you gotta do is put it in your review and/or private message me! I am more than willing to talk it out with you!**

* * *

**SammmyWhammyBoy(Guest)****: Thank you so much for saying that! I can't express how much I appreciate reading reviews saying that, even reading things like that from my Beta-reader, alidaversa in PM. I also want to assure you that there won't be any harm towards the baby directly, but most of what will happen, is going to be through Abigail, but that won't be for a long while until _Devil's Trap. _I don't like the thought of a child being harmed in any way, but I will tell you this, once the baby is born, it'll put a strain Abigail and Dean's relationship for various reasons that I can't tell you guys yet! But I promise in the end, it'll be worth it! (:  
**

**SassyGrl23:****I know right?! I _loved_ writing that chapter! You can tell Dean is going to be a great dad, as well as Sam being an amazing uncle!**

**Guest:****Thank you! Good news for you, Chapter 13's out! ****(:**

**take the purple**** pill\- Thank you so much for telling me that, and thank you so much for serving our country! My mom and dad(s) used to be Navy Corpsman back in the day, so it's awesome that you said that! Again, thank you! (:**

* * *

**Also! I'd like to send a shout-out to ladysunshine6! You are simply amazing, and I can't express how much I love and appreciate our talks for future heartbreak! Hope to hear from you soon! (:**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles!**


	15. Faith

_**Abandoned House—Night**_

Pulling in front of the abandoned house, the growl of the Impala's engine was cut off. The premises of this rundown house was more than looking dilapidated, it looked like it needed to be torn down and burned. Judging by the weathered shacks around it, the sparse shrubbery spotting the area, and the broken windows; it was a perfect hiding spot for whatever we were looking for.

Stepping out of the car, Dean had made his way to the trunk; opening it. Removing three Tasers, Sam's brows lifted, "What do you got those amped to?" he asked.

Dean handed him a Taser, "A hundred thousand volts."

"Damn." Sam breathed.

"Yeah, I want this rawhead extra frickin' crispy," Dean replied, handing me a Taser and kept his hand on it, "And remember, you only get one shot with these things. So make it count."

I saw the concern in his eyes, "Dean, I've killed several with you."

Dean frowned, "Yeah, but this time, things have changed." He sighed, "I don't even know why I'm letting you go into that place." Sam frowned, the feelings were mutual between the two Winchesters.

"Because you know I won't listen." I said, turning to head into the house, only to have him grab my arm.

"This one time, I wish you would." He said, eyes trailing down to my stomach that seemed to have popped out sometime in the night. I reached out, taking one of his hands.

"If I feel like it's going to be too dangerous, even for me, I'll be out." I reassured him, hoping he would take the compromise. Dean looked over his shoulder to Sam, who shrugged, and he nodded reluctantly.

"As _soon_ as it gets dangerous." Dean said firmly, "No _ifs_, _ands_, or _buts_."

_Go time_.

Needless to say that the basement of the establishment looked as bad as its exterior. It was musty, dark, and about rotted out. The smell of mold and mildew was enough to knock you out; but that was coming from a pregnant woman. Anything smelled like it could knock you out or put you in a coma. Dean was the first to take the lead, moving down the basement stairs with his gun aimed and flashlight shining into every nook and cranny.

I was second, due to Sam wanting to bring up the rear so that if the Rawhead was to come up from behind, I wasn't in harm's way. Upon getting to the water-logged basement floor, we heard a soft, scuffling noise coming from a cupboard. Dean threw a wary glance at me, moving his eyes to the top of the stairs as a way of saying, _if it gets hairy, you need to leave_.

Swallowing, I nodded readying the Taser gun.

"On three." He whispered, "_One…two...three_."

Reaching out, Dean swung open the cupboard door. A pair of shrieks greeted us, the young boy and girl we had been looking for had been hiding within the cupboard, covering their ears from fright. Frowning, I kneeled down looking the two children over.

"Okay, Jason?" I asked. The boy nodded, "Is it still here?" I asked them quietly, seeing them nod in return. Reaching out my hand, Jason and his sister, Kaley, gently took it as I stepped back, allowing them to climb out of the cupboard, "You two don't have to be scared, we got you."

Dean looked to Jason, "Okay. Grab your sister's hand, come on." He urged, as Jason did as he was told, "We gotta get you out of here." Dean looked to Sam and I, "Let's go, let's go." As quickly and efficiently as we could, we moved towards the stairs. The two siblings taking the lead, "Alright, go!"

I followed behind them, feeling a hand grip the back of my leg and I fell, backwards. The children screamed and ran up to the top of the stairs.

"Abigail!" Dean yelled out, just as Sam caught me by the arms. Moving to get a better look from under the stair, he shot his Taser, missing the creature, "Sam! You gotta get them outta here!"

Nodding, Sam threw his Taser to Dean, "Here, take this!" Dean caught it before moving around the basement on high alert, shouting out to it as Sam pushed me and the children out of the basement door, following us outside.

I swung the door to the backseat open, "Get in here, and whatever you do," looking at Jason and Kaley sternly, "_don't_ get out." They nodded as I closed the door, turning to Sam, "We need to get back down there to Dean."

Sam shook his head, "You stay here. It's too dangerous."

"_Sam_—"

"Sam, nothing, Abigail. You heard Dean." He argued. I sighed, nodding. Sam met my eyes before turning and running back into the house. I looked to the children, who were staring back at me, trembling.

I shucked my jacket off, "Here. Cover up. I'll be right back, okay?" Jason nodded. I turned, running after Sam. Reaching the basement, I paused at the top of the stairs seeing Sam cradling Dean's head from the corner of the room—the smoldering remains of the Rawhead beside them.

"Dean!" I said, rushing down the steps to Sam.

Sam looked up at me, "I thought I told you—"

I pulled out my cellphone, "Call 911." He took the phone, his hand shaking, "Sammy, do as I say." I ordered, falling to my knees beside Dean, jerking his jacket and shirt open. Placing my hands on the hardest part of his chest, I placed all of my weight into the push beginning a round of CPR.

"Uh, yeah, we need an ambulance," Sam spoke to a dispatcher on the phone. I furrowed my brows with a look of deep concentration, meeting Sam's terrified look. _The feeling's mutual, Sammy_. I thought, pausing to bend and force air into Dean's lungs.

Unmoving, I fought back tears and delivered another breath, "C'mon, Dean. Don't you do this to me." I grunted out, starting another round of compressions.

* * *

_**Hospital**_

Sam stood beside me at the desk with a receptionist, "Steven…" Sam told her, "Steven Burkovitz."

The receptionist, whose name tag said _Valerie_, typed away on her computer, furrowing her brows at the screen. She shook her head slightly, "Sir, I'm so sorry to ask. There doesn't seem to be any insurance on file."

I blinked, feeling like I had been a million miles away, "Right. Uh, okay." I said, digging in an old purse I carried around for show, pulling out a clutch with several credit cards, "Here." I muttered, pulling out a _CapitolOne_ card. It was new-ish. Rarely used since Charlie and Kara gave us prepaid debit cards with enough money on them.

Valerie took it, glancing at the name, "Okay, Mrs. Burkovitz." I looked up to Sam, eyes red and puffy from crying, when I felt him squeeze my shoulder. Looking over to his shoulder, I noticed two cops waiting nearby and I nodded, wiping away a stray tear.

One of the cops looked to me sympathetically, "Look, we can finish this up later."

"No, no." I said weakly, "It's okay."

Sam nodded, "We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood. And, um, the windows were rolled down, we heard some screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped. Ran in."

"And you found the kids in the basement?" The second officer asked, looking to me then Sam for confirmation.

I nodded, "Yeah."

"Well, thank God you did." He said. Sam's eyes moving to another part of the room, seeing a doctor walking towards us.

"Excuse us," Sam told them, earning a nod from them.

"Sure. Thanks for your help." The first officer said as we approached the doctor, the feeling of apprehension of what she would tell us, cause me to look at her worried. I opened my mouth to ask, but found that I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Instead, Sam did, "Hey, Doc. Is he...?"

"He's resting." She replied.

"And?" I questioned, feeling Sam wrap an arm around my shoulders as means of support.

The look the doctor gave us was grim, "The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart...it's damaged." I placed a hand on the right side of stomach, feeling an intense fluttering sensation and frowned. This couldn't be happening. Not when…not when we had a family beginning. She looked at me, noticing the small pudge that was my forming baby bump. Her face shadowed over with deep sympathies.

Sam looked down at me, seeing the shattered look in my eyes, "How damaged?"

"We've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But, I'd give him a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month." She replied.

My eyes burned with tears, and I bowed my head rubbing my forehead with a trembling hand. I inhaled deeply, looking back up to her tearfully, "No, no." I said, shaking my head, "There's, there's...gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment." I insisted, feeling Sam's arm tighten around me, comforting.

"We can't work miracles. I really am sorry." The doctor told us apologetically. She then walked away, leaving us standing in the lobby, taking the news hard. He frowned, looking at me with tears in his eyes, steering me over to a bench and sat me down. I leaned into him when he sat down beside me.

I started breathing deeply, blinking away tears, "This can't be happenin', Sammy."

"I know, Abs." He muttered, using his sleeve to wipe his face, "We'll find someone to help him."

I nodded, laying my head on his shoulder and inhaled a shaky breath, "We gotta, Sam." I chewed on my bottom lip to prevent it from trembling, wiping my eyes with my hand, "We gotta..."

Sam pulled me into an embrace, "We just gotta be strong for him."

Entering the room Dean was in, he was propped up in bed, watching TV. He looked so pale, having dark circles under those gorgeous eyes of his. He didn't bother to look at us, instead, he kept his focus on the television.

"Have you ever actually watched daytime TV?" He asked us weakly, "It's terrible."

Sam and I didn't smile at his lousy attempt to cheer us up. Sam shook his head, sighing. "We talked to your doctor."

"That fabric softener teddy bear." Dean said, motioning his hand to the screen with a little smirk, "Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down."

I frowned at him for acting like this wasn't bothering him, "Dean." I spoke lightly, aware that my voice cracked. He looked at us, sounding resigned and clicked the TV off.

"Yeah." He said, "Alright, well, looks like you two are gonna leave town without me." I blinked, drawing my brows together at him, disbelieving what he had just said.

"What are you talkin' about?" I asked him, hurt, "We're not gonna leave you here."

Dean looked up at his brother, pulling a serious look on his face, "You better take care of that car. Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass." I grimaced, blinking away tears. Moving to look out of the window beside his bed, I kept within Dean's sight, putting a hand to my forehead.

Sam frowned, watching me, "I don't think that's funny."

"Oh, come on," He joked, throwing Sam a smile, "It's a little funny." Dean looked over to me, reaching his hand out to touch my shirt and tugged on it weakly to get my attention. He noticed the shirt I was wearing was tight, conforming over my swelled stomach, and frowned. I looked at him, taking his hand in mine. He took his thumb and brushed it over my knuckles lightly, like he just didn't have the strength.

"Look, guys, what I can I say? It's a dangerous gig." Dean said, "I drew the short straw. That's it end of story."

"How can you say that?" I asked him, "How many times have I drawn the short straw and you tell me that I can't give up?" Dean was quiet, knowing that I was speaking the truth, "Don't talk like that, alright? You're gonna pull through this, we need you."

Sam nodded, "We still have options."

"What options?" Dean asked, "Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And the both of you can't stop it." I let go of his hand, not saying a word and walked out, trying to hold in the tears. How could he just give up that easily when he had begged and pleaded with me several times to not do the same thing? I couldn't be in there if he was going to act like that.

In the lobby, Sam came out looking determined and rather pissed off at what Dean had said as well, "Come on."

* * *

_**Hotel Room**_

Several sleepless hours passed into days that consisted of calling whatever contacts we had in our phones. I had called everyone; including Charlie and Bobby Singer. Each conversation consisted of them being equally concerned about Dean, each asking if Sam and I were doing okay, and each ending of the conversation consisted of telling me that they would call around to see if they knew of anyone.

Needless to say, that was about as good as painting in water. I was tired, nauseous, and hungry from our ruthless search of information. I sat on my bed, surrounded by pages of research about heart care and rubbed my face roughly with both hands, cellphone laying on the pillow behind me, "Okay." I said raising my hands as a sign of defeat, "I can't think anymore, Sammy. I don't know of anyone else to call. I've looked and looked and looked through this—" I motioned to the pages in front of me, "_crap_. There's nothin', Sam."

Sam looked up at me, appearing just as weary as I was, and got up from his bed to sit next to me. Wrapping me in his arms, I let out weary sob, clutching his shirt, "Hey, hey. Abby." He cooed, stroking my hair, "Don't give up just yet, okay?" His voice broke, "I think I found someone, a specialist that could help Dean. He's in Nebraska." He pulled away to look me in the eyes, "Okay?"

I sniffed, Sam reaching out to wipe the tears away, and nodded, "Okay."

He nodded, brows pulled together as he pulled me back into a hug. A large yawn escaped from me, causing him to do the same, "Why don't you lay down for a while?" Sam suggested, brushing my hair away from my face. I furrowed my brows at him, "It's fine. I'm gonna lay down in a few. You need it more than me, though."

I sighed, peering up at him wearily. "Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I'm sure. Go ahead." To further convince me, he grabbed some of the papers, piling them up, "See?"

Taking a trembling hand, I rubbed my eyes and nodded, "If you say so, Sammy. Wake me up when you find something."

"You know I will." He replied, and stood up, watching as I leaned over until I practically fell against the pillows and closed my eyes, slipping off into unconsciousness.

* * *

_**Sam's Point of View**_

I glanced over from my bed to Abigail's sleeping form upon hearing Dad's voicemail pick up, "_This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 866-907-3235. He can help._"

I fought back tears, "Hey, Dad. It's Sam." I said, quietly to ensure that I didn't wake up Abigail, "Uh...you probably won't even get this, but, uh...it's Dean. He's sick, and uh...the doctors say there's nothing they can do. Um...but, uh, they don't know the things we know, right?" I laughed slightly, "So, don't worry, cause Abigail and I are, uh...gonna do whatever it takes to get him better. Alright...just wanted you to know." I hung up my cell, tossing the phone to the foot of my bed and sat quietly, listening to Abigail's breathing.

_This has to be Hell on her_, I thought resting my chin on my knuckles, _How can he just give up? _I looked up from Abigail to the door when there was a soft knock. Slowly, I got up, crossing the room and opened it to find Dean leaning against the jam, looking terrible.

I blinked; surprised, happy, and confused all at once. "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked him, hushed.

"I checked myself out." He replied, looking at me weird.

"What, are you crazy?" I told him, stepping aside as he entered the room, leaning on everything within his reach.

Dean faltered upon seeing Abigail asleep on the bed with papers scattered, "Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot, and mine's here." He shrugged.

I huffed at him, shutting the door behind him, "You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it."

"Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you even slept?" He quipped, eyeing how I looked, "You look worse than me. At least Abs is getting the picture." He added, nodding over to her. I watched her shoulders rise and fall from her breathing as I helped Dean to a chair. Leaning back in it, he stared at her quietly, "How long has she been out?"

I scratched the back of my head, "Uh, just went out less than ten minutes ago. She's wore out." I huffed, smiling at her, "We both are. Been scouring the internet for the last three days calling every contact in Dad's journal, our phones."

"For what?" Dean asked me.

"For a way to help you. One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist." I explained.

He sighed, "You two are not gonna let me die in peace, are you?"

I smirked, "We're not gonna let you die, period." I told him, "We're going as soon as Abigail wakes up." No sooner I had said that, she stirred looking at us both, exhausted.

"I'm up." She mumbled rubbing an eye, "We can go."

* * *

_**Abigail's Point of View**_

I yawned, resting the side of my head against the window as Sam pulled the car along a rutted out, gravel road towards a large white circus tent set up in a field. I noticed a large crowd of people making their way towards the tent across the muddy ground, many of them on walking frames or helped by others. Slowing to a halt, Sam cut the engine as him and I stepped out into the drizzling weather. My feet slid from under the muddy ground, while Sam skidded around the Impala to help Dean.

Dean opened his door, poking his head out looking around, eyes falling on a sign at the entrance of the parking lot saying: _The Church of Roy LeGrange, Faith Healer. Witness the Miracle_. With a grimace, Dean started to pull himself out of the car, Sam reaching out to help him.

"I gotcha." Sam said.

"I got it," Dean replied curtly, pushing his brother away. Sam gave me a frustrated look and I shrugged. That was Dean for ya, "Man, you are a lying bastard." Dean said, "Thought you said we were going to see a doctor."

I folded my arms across my chest, "I believe he said a _specialist_." I countered, standing up for Sam. He smiled at me in thanks.

"Look, Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal." Sam urged.

Dean sighed, "I can't believe you two brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent."

An elderly woman passing by with an umbrella overheard Dean's comment, "Reverend LeGrange is a _great_ man." She scolded before continuing into the tent.

"Yeah, that's nice." Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes as we passed an angry man arguing with the sheriff, of all people. I looked over my shoulder, watching the argument out of curiosity.

"I have the _right_ to protest!" The angry man said, "This man is a fraud!" He motioned his hand out to the crowd of people, "And he's milking all these people out of their hard-earned money!"

"Sir, this is a place of worship." The sheriff told him, pushing him back roughly, "Let's go. Move it."

"I take it he's not part of the flock." Dean muttered sarcastically.

"But when people see somethin' they can't explain, there's controversy." I countered.

Dean sighed, "I mean, come on, guys," He whined," a _faith healer_?"

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean." Sam told him, crossly.

He snorted, "You know what I've got faith in? _Reality_. Knowing what's really going on."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "How can you be a skeptic? With the things we see every day? Especially me?" I asked.

"_Exactly_. We see them, we know they're real." Dean argued.

"But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there, too?" Sam asked.

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people." Dean said. Sam and I shook our heads at him. _Okay, so if this was how it was going to be, so be it_.

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways." A soft, kind voice said from behind. We looked, seeing a pretty woman with long, blonde hair standing under an umbrella.

Dean smiled appreciatively at her, eyes taking in the girl's features, "Maybe he does." He shifted his weight in his feet, "I think you just turned me around on the subject." I turned my head to Sam, rolling my eyes at Dean incorrigible behavior. He was a tease until the end that was for sure.

She laughed, "Yeah, I'm sure."

Dean held out his hand, "I'm Dean." He said, "This is Abigail, and my brother, Sam."

"Layla." She replied, taking Dean's hand as she introduced herself, "So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?"

Dean chuckled at her, "Well, apparently these two here believe enough for the both of us." He answered, taking my hand in his. I frowned at how he could take this lightly.

An older woman approached Lyla and put her arm around her, "Come on, Layla. It's about to start." They smiled at us and move inside the tent.

Dean smirked, looking after Layla, "Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways, huh, Sam?" Sam rolled his eyes at him. _Of course_ he would still do the bet, even on his deathbed. I had to smile though, which made Dean grin; successful at finally coaxing a smile from me after an uneventful and rather unsuccessful sixteen hour ride here. Sam, Dean, and I entered the tent, walking under a sign at the entrance that says: _Welcome All Faiths. True Believers Revival._

To our surprise, the tent was _full_ of people finding seats. A small stage at the front of the tent had a lecturn with candles on it. People of all ethnicities and ages were in here. Sam and I gently pushed Dean ahead of us, steering him to the front of tent. He looked up, seeing a security camera in the corner, to which he leaned back to whisper, "Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over."

We followed his gaze to the security camera. _That is odd_. I thought, seeing Sam put an arm around Dean when he started to take a seat in the back.

"Come on." Sam ushered.

Dean looked to the seats, "Don't! What are you doing?" He bit out, "Let's sit here."

"We're sitting up front." Sam said, motioning his head to the three empty seats behind Layla and her mother.

"What? Why?" Dean asked, struggling with him a bit.

"Come on." Sam said, moving him up the aisle.

Dean growled, "Oh, come on, guys." He stumbled a little in front of us and I reached out, grabbing the back of his arm.

"You alright?" I asked, growing concerned.

In response, Dean swatted my hand away, "This is ridiculous. I'm good, babe." I raised my hands in defeat.

"Perfect." Sam said, first to go in.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, _perfect_." He said sarcastically, trying to follow Sam to the center seat.

I blinked at him, "What are you doing?"

Dean looked at me, confused, "Sitting."

I shook my head, "You take the aisle."

He stared, incredulous, "Are you serious?" With an arched brow as my only response, Dean sighed motioning me in beside Sam. I sat, allowing Sam to try and help Dean, who only raised his hand at him, irritated. Defeated, Sam sat beside me, giving me an irritated eye roll. I patted his leg with a smirk while holding onto Dean's hand.

It was like a hush went over the murmuring and excited crowd, as a blind man wearing sunglasses is helped to the lecturne on the stage, by a woman.

"Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news." The man said. His lips drew in a line, "Never seems good, does it?" He asks, the crowd around us agreeing. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act."

Sam nudged me, motioning with his eyes to a table off to the side onstage. I looked, furrowing my brows out of curiosity upon seeing the table filled with religious items. I tilted my head noticing an old wooden cross topped by a smaller cross in a circle.

"But, I say to you, _God is watching._" The man who was Roy LeGrange, said. Pulling me out of my curious gaze to the altar. The crowd buzzed with a low murmur of, _Yes he is._ One woman behind me saying it rather loudly. I jumped by her, startled. Dean chuckled, pursing his lips at me.

"God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt." He stated, earning a roar of cheers from the crowd. People around our seats nodded and murmured. However, the same woman who caused me to jump, cheered loudly. I looked to Sam, giving him a tight-lipped, murderous expression. He smiled sympathetically, shrugging.

"_It is_ the Lord who does the healing here friends." Roy said, "The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts." The old man speaking looked like he genuinely cared. There was something about him that made me _want_ to believe that there was something in him to help heal Dean.

"Yeah, and into their wallets." Dean murmured to me and Sam threw his brother a dirty look.

"You think so, young man?" Roy said, calling Dean out as he looked directly at him. The crowd immediately fell silent, some turning around in their seats to look at the non-believers.

Under unwanted attention, Dean shifted uncomfortably, looking chastised, "Sorry." He said sheepishly.

Roy smiled kindly to Dean, holding a hand up, "No, no. Don't be." He told him, "Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears." The crowd—even me, laughed at that. Dean shot me a tense look and I shrugged.

_Shouldn't have been running that mouth of yours, sweetie._ I thought, giving him a too-sweet-to-be-nice smile.

"What's your name, son?" He asked.

Dean glanced around, noticing that he was still being stared at and cleared his throat, "Uh, Dean."

"Dean." Roy murmured, nodding to himself, "I want-I want you to come up here with me." The crowd began clapping and cheering, the woman who had been…_vocal_, patted us on the back, congratulating us on '_this beautiful day_.' Sure. Whatever you say. Layla and her mother stiffened in front of us. Apparently, they weren't very thrilled as opposed to Roy's wife, Sue Ann, moving to center stage, smiling at Dean.

Despite the cheering for him, Dean shook his head, "No, it's okay." He declined.

Sam and I glared at him, "What are you doing?!" we hissed.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't cha?" Roy asked patiently.

Dean glanced to us, looking for some means of support, only to find none. "Well, yeah, but uh…" he trailed off by the crowd clapping and making encouraging noises, "Maybe you should just pick someone else."

I slapped my legs with a look saying 'You've gone insane!' Over the roar of the crowd, Roy smiled to Dean, "Oh, no. I didn't pick you, Dean, the Lord did."

The crowd was getting more excited, people shouting out words of encouragement like, "That's right! Yeah! Come on!"

Sam and I looked to him excitedly, I gently nudged him, "Get up there, Dean!"

He looked at us both, reluctant. Slowly, but surely, he rose up to walk onstage. Sue Ann moved to assist him, and stood him next to Roy. I gripped Sam's hand tightly, feeling him squeezing back with the same, excited force. _Oh God, please let this be true. This is just too good._ My heart was beating so fast, I thought it was going to jump out and do a dance for all of us.

Roy appeared to be expectant, "You ready?" he asked.

Dean looked around the tent hesitantly, "Look, no disrespect, but uh, I'm not exactly a believer."

Roy smiled at him, "You will be, son. You will be." He turned to the crowd, "Pray with me, friends." The crowd lifted their arms up and joined hands with each other. Roy lifted his hands to the air, the placed one on Dean's shoulder, then the other on the side of his head.

Dean's eyes swiveled around the room, unsure of what was going to happen until they landed on me. Within them, he gave me a resigned—yet hopeful—look, that lit a flourish of hope in me when he trailed down to my stomach then back up to my face, lips drawn into a thin, apprehensive line.

"Alright now. Alright now." Roy murmured, mostly to himself. There was a sudden hush over the crowd, as they—Sam and I included, watched and prayed for some miracle to happen. This _needed _to happen.

Dean's eyes glazed over suddenly, as if he were getting dizzy. His brows furrowed as he slowly sunk to his knees, Roy's hand still on his hand. Sam let go of my hand, sitting forward, concerned. I made a move to stand up, only to have him grab my arm; stopping me. I looked at him, wide eyed seeing an old man dressed in a black suit, walk up to him. He was paler than death, his face looked ancient; inhuman almost.

My heart seized when Dean wobbled after the man touched his head as well. No sooner than he did, Dean's eyes fell back in his head and he fell to the stage floor. In a second, Sam and I were to our feet rushing to the stage; Sam grabbing his brother's hoodie while I gently patted his face trying to stir him.

"Dean!" I said, jumping when his eyes burst open and gasped out, "Say something!"

Blinking groggily, he looked up at Roy who was standing above him, hands out from his sides, palms up looking pleased at himself. However, the same man who had touched Dean's head was still standing beside him; silently gazing down at us before turning away and vanished. My heart dropped.

_It couldn't be, could it?_ I asked myself in shock, looking from Roy to the place where the man had vanished. Dean was staring in the same area as well, face pale in shock, _this isn't right._

"Dean," I spoke softly to him, "Are you alright?"

He blinked a couple of times, looking back at me with a questioning look in his eyes asking, '_Did you just see what I saw?_' Wordlessly, I pulled my lips into a thin line before his look of shock and bewilderment quickly turned into a smile, "Hey you."

"Are you alright?" Sam asked repeating what I had said, genuinely concerned for his brother. His brows were pulled together, waiting for an answer.

Dean looked up at him and nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He licked his lips glancing to me, "Just, uh, get me up."

* * *

_**Hospital Check-Up Room**_

Sam looked like he was going pace a hole in the floor from his excitement, looking to his brother every now and then, "So, you really feel okay?" He asked again.

Dean had been quiet. Troubled. Overall, his appearance looked a hundred times better than what he did. Color had returned to his face, the dark circles had left from under his eyes, and he no longer needed to be assisted while walking. He sat quietly on the edge of the examination table, staring down at the floor with an unhappy look, "I feel fine, Sam." He said, not bothering to look up at his brother.

I stood nearby, arms folded across my chest with my thumb in my mouth, chewing on the skin around my nail as I stared out of the window until the doctor entered through the door, reading paperwork, "Well, according to all your tests there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was." She explained. Dean looked up at her, surprised. "Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, still it's strange it does happen."

His eyes fell on me before returning to the doctor, "What do you mean, strange?"

She crossed her arms, frowning, "Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack."

Dean appeared troubled upon hearing this and nodded slowly, "Thanks, Doc."

"No problem." She said with a smile before she left the room.

"That's odd." He said, turning to look at Sam.

Sam shrugged, disregarding the story we all heard, "Maybe it's a coincidence. People's hearts give out all the time, man."

Dean shook his head, "No, they don't."

An irritated sigh left Sam, "Look, Dean, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?" He asked.

Dean stood up, "Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why."

Sam furrowed his brows, "What feeling?" He inquired.

Dean looked down at his hands, unsure of himself, "When I was healed, I just...I felt wrong. I felt cold." He sighed, looking up at him, "And for a second...I saw someone." I dropped my arms to my sides, shocked at his confession. "This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, Sam, it was a spirit."

"But if there was something there, Dean, I think Abigail and I would've seen it, too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately." Sam said, brushing off Dean's comment.

Dean's face scrunched in anger, "Well, excuse me, psychic wonder. But you're just gonna need a little faith on this one. Sam, I've been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this." Sam and Dean turned, eyes on me and expectant. I blinked, a little taken aback by their behavior. "Abs, you gotta tell me you saw the same thing." Dean said, almost in _need_ of reassurance as to what he saw. "Tell me that you're Spidey senses were tingling, and I'm not crazy."

Sam's hazel eyes stared at me unwavering. I rubbed the area under my nose to rid myself of the itching sensation of my nerves going haywire, and I nodded. Dean's eye went to the ceiling in relief, "You're not crazy…" I told him, "I saw the same man. It was like…" I let out a defeated sigh. I shook my head at a loss of words, "I can't explain it."

Sam sighed, "Alright. So, what do you two wanna do?"

"I want you to go check out the heart attack guy." Dean answered, "Abs and I are gonna visit the reverend."

* * *

_**Roy LeGrange's House**_

Roy sat on a couch opposite to Dean and I, while Sue Ann remained standing, filling up two glasses with sweet tea. Everyone except Dean looked relaxed. From beside me, he fidgeted with everything near him. He twisted the ring on his finger, bobbed his right knee, and chewed on his bottom lip; looking to the Reverend. I looked over at him, taking his hand in mine for reassurance. Dean looked over at me from under his lashes, giving me a small appreciative smile.

"I can't thank you enough, reverend." I told him, "There isn't enough ways for me to say how—how much I appreciate you savin' Dean." Sue Ann and Roy smiled as Dean squeezed my hand gently.

Dean looked over to me, patting my hand, "I feel great." He added, "Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened."

Sue Ann smiled at us, "A miracle is what happened. Well, miracles come so often around Roy."

"When did they start?" Dean asked, looking to Roy, "The miracles."

The blind man looked in our direction, folding his hands in his lap, "Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh, we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, 'You just keep right on praying.'" Roy gazed to his wife's direction smiling to her, "I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone." He took off his sunglasses to reveal stark white eyes, "If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it."

Dean leaned forward, "And suddenly you could heal people."

"I discovered it afterward, yes." He replied, "God's blessed me in many ways." He put the sunglasses back on.

"And his flock just swelled overnight. And this is just the beginning." Sue Ann said proudly.

"Can we ask you one last question?" I spoke up.

Roy smiled to me, "Of course you can."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, "Why?" Dean asked for me, "Why me?" He furrowed his brows, trying to understand, "Out of all the sick people, why save me?"

"Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me." Roy replied, "I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest."

"What did you see in my heart?" Dean asked him.

"A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished." Roy spoke, "And if I understand correctly, you were needed here by your wife and child."

Dean and I gaped at Roy in shock, exchanging surprised glances.

Sue Ann smiled to me, "Not to be nosey, but how far along are you?"

I looked over to Dean, a little uncomfortable about it, "Uh…ten weeks today." I replied, "How'd you know?"

Sue Ann smiled at me, "You have a beautiful glow to you. Children are certainly miracles."

I smiled at her weakly, "Yes, they are."

Dean and I were leaving, meeting Layla and her mother on the steps.

Layla smiled to us, "Dean, Abigail, hey."

"Hey." Dean greeted her with a short nod. I smiled at her, waggling my fingers in a small wave.

"How you feeling?" She asked, eyeing at how he appeared.

He shrugged, "I feel good. Cured, I guess." He replied, "What are you doing here?"

"You know, my mom, she wanted to talk to the reverend." Layla answered, looking over her shoulder at her mother, who was approaching us—not pleased at our presence to say the least. Sue Ann stepped out onto the porch behind us, blinking in surprise upon seeing Layla and her mother.

"Layla?" She asked.

Layla turned, smiling at her, "Yes, I'm here again." She said softly as Sue Ann took her hands and looked at her sadly.

"Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting." She explained, "He won't be seeing anyone else right now."

Layla's mother stepped up onto the porch, "Sue Ann, please." She said, "This is our sixth time, he's _got_ to see us." I couldn't help but frown, casting Dean a sympathetic glance upon hearing the plea in her voice.

"Roy is well aware of Layla's situation. And he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke." Sue Ann said, patting Layla tenderly on the shoulder before retreating back into her house. Layla's mother stared at the spot that Sue Ann stood mere seconds ago before turning to us with a seething anger residing within her eyes.

"Why are you still even here? You got what you wanted." She spat out, clearly frustrated.

Layla frowned at her mother's actions, "Mom. _Stop_."

She looked at her daughter in despair, "No, Layla, this is too much." She told her, "We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you." She threw us a dirty look, "Strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder."

I looked to Layla intrigued by her mother's outburst, "Layla, what's wrong?"

She looked at me, brushing a few strands of stray hair behind her ear, "I have this thing..." She said, hesitantly.

"It's a brain tumor. It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say..." Mrs. Rourke couldn't finish her sentence, covering her mouth with her hand as she choked up with emotions. Layla gently put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Dean said.

Layla smiled to us, "It's okay."

Mrs. Rourke took her hand away from her mouth, staring into her daughter's eyes, "No. It isn't." She turned to us, "Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?" In a rush, Mrs. Rourke headed towards her car leaving Layla behind, giving us an apologetic look. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she slowly followed her mother back to the car. Somewhere in between Mrs. Rourke's angry outburst and departure, I had gripped Dean by the arm, to which, he had gently wrapped his arms around me when they pulled away.

Wordlessly, he watched them go, turned his head back towards the house and kissed my forehead before resting his chin on top of my head, running a slow, comforting hand up and down my back.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Day**_

Sam was sitting on his bed, typing on his laptop when we walked into the motel room. Dean tossed his keys onto our bed and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto them. I let out an audible sigh, still upset about Mrs. Rourke's outburst to Dean. We didn't speak much after that had happened. I shrugged out my jacket, tossing it on top of Dean's before I lifted my shirt to scratch my swollen stomach. Dean's eyes softened, seeing the bulge as Sam looked up from the screen, watching and appeared to look upset.

I tugged it down, catching Sam's look. "What'd you find out?"

"I'm sorry." Sam said.

"Sorry about what?" Dean asked, approaching him.

Sam frowned, "Marshall Hall died at 4:17."

Dean and I halted, looking to Sam with stunned looks on our faces. "The exact time I was healed." Dean replied.

"Yeah." Sam replied, "So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits." He handed Dean and I a stack of papers he had printed out with a resigned look in his eyes, "Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time."

My eyes scanned the papers in my hands, "Someone's healed of cancer, and someone else dies of cancer?" I asked.

Sam shrugged, "Somehow. LeGrange...he's trading a life for another."

Dean looked up from his stack of papers with anger swirling in his eyes, "Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?"

Sam stared at his brother, upset and at a loss for words, "Dean," He said softly, "The guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed."

Dean clenched his jaw, looking to the both of us, "You two never should've brought me here." He turned his back to us, walking across the room.

I looked to my boyfriend with my brows pulled together, "Dean, we were just tryin' to save your life."

Dean turned, eyes on me, "Abs, some guy is dead now because of me."

"We didn't know." Sam muttered.

"You would've done the same thing for me or Sam if we were in your position." I added, seeing the shielded look in Dean's eyes waver, "And don't tell me you wouldn't." He stayed quiet, "You would've walked into Hell itself to find a way to save Sam, or me and our kid." Silently, I watched Dean's shoulders rise with each deep breath he took, bowing his head and slowly nodded.

Sam looked to us with a soften expression, "The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it?" He asked, "How's he trading a life for a life?"

Dean stared at me, though spoke to Sam, "Oh, he's not doing it. Something else is doing it for him."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"The old man Abs and I saw on stage." Dean explained, looking to Sam.

"I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew." I muttered, placing my hand against my forehead, "I've seen them before. Several times."

Sam's eyes flickered to my direction, "You knew what? Guys, what are you talking about."

"There's only one thing that can give and take life like that." Dean replied. Sam looked genuinely confused, almost frustrated over the fact he was in the dark about something.

"We're dealin' with a reaper." I stated.

Sam looked to me, eyes widened in my conclusion, "You really think it's _THE_ Grim Reaper?" he asked, "Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?"

Dean threw me a glance, seeming to be equally curious. I shook my head, "No no no, not _THE_ reaper, _A _reaper." I explained, "I've seen numerous reapers while either of us have spent time in the hospital." Dean and Sam scrunched their faces in distaste, though held a mildly surprised look mixed within the scrunch, "There's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them."

"But you and Dean said you saw a dude in a suit."

Dean raised an eyebrow at him, "What, you think he shoulda been working the whole black robe thing?" Sam shrugged meekly, "...You said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you couldn't." He threw me a jesting look, "And Abigail's Abigail. Always been able to see the freaky stuff."

I rolled my eyes at him, scoffing. He threw me a wink and chuckled at his own joke.

Sam nodded, rubbing his chin, "Maybe."

"There's nothing else it could be Sam." Dean said, overly determined to figure this out, "The question is, how is Roy controlling the damn thing?"

I blinked like a lightbulb had lit itself in my brain, "That cross." I said, looking to Sam.

Dean furrowed his brows, "What?"

Sam's eyes grew wide, "There was this cross, Abigail and I noticed it in the church."

"I _knew_ I had seen it before." I said, moving over to some papers Sam and I had gathered, and snorted, holding up a card to them—it was of Death, "Here." Dean leaned in to take the card from my hand and looked at it, quizzically.

"A Tarot?" He questioned.

"It makes sense." Sam answered for me, "A tarot dates back to the early Christian-era right, when some priests were still using magic? And a few of them veered into the dark stuff? Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it?"

"So Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper." Dean stated.

"If he is, he's riding the whirlwind." Sam said, grimly.

"It's like putting a dog leash on a Great White." I added, watching as Dean stood up from his seat to place his cup in the sink, then leaned back against it.

"Okay then," He said, "We stop Roy."

Sam blinked, "How?"

Dean's faced steeled over, "You know how."

I glanced at Sam and Dean almost in shock, "Wait, what the _hell_ are you talkin' about Dean?" I shook my head, "We can't kill Roy."

"Abs, the guy's playing God," Dean replied, "he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book."

"No." I stated, staring pointedly at my boyfriend, "We're not goin' to kill a human being Dean."

"We do that we're no better than he is." Sam added, siding with me.

Dean rolled his eyes, outnumbered once again, "Okay, we cant kill Roy, we can't kill death. Any bright ideas college boy?"

Sam thought for a moment, "Okay, uh,...If Roy's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta...figure out what it is. And how to break it."

I nodded in agreement. There had to be something or _someone_ controlling that reaper.

The Impala bounced down the badly graveled and potholed road again, passing a sign that says _Service Today_. In silence, Dean parked the Impala and got out, shutting the door.

"If Roy's using a spell, there might be a spell book." Sam said.

Dean nodded, "See if you can find it. Abs will go with you." We nodded as he looked down at his watch, "Hurry up too, the service starts in fifteen minutes. I'll try to stall Roy." The same protester from earlier approached Dean, holding out a pamphlet to him.

"Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He's no healer." He said.

Dean took the leaflet, "Amen, Brother."

Sam and I nodded to him, "You keep up the good work." I said with a smile, patting him on the shoulder. In his brief moment of surprise, the man nodded.

"Thank you." He said. Sam and I nodded, as Dean headed towards the tent while we headed towards Roy's house.

Expertly concealed from within the shadows, Sam and I watched as Roy came down the stairs, escorted by Sue Ann on one side, and a dark-haired man on the other. Quietly, we watched until they had disappeared from sight. Opening a window, Sam boosted me through before climbing in himself, starting to search through the house.

I looked through numerous bookshelves, pulling out a book that _didn't_ have dust—an Encyclopedia of British History. I furrowed my brows, flipping through several pages, finding nothing. As I moved to place the encyclopedia back, I realized that in its place, hidden from view, is another, much smaller book. Picking it up, I opened it, seeing the picture of a skeleton reaper while on another page, the same wooden cross that Sam and I saw earlier, "_Intéressant,_" I murmured, loud enough to catch Sam's attention from over at the desk.

"What is it?" He asked quietly, moving over to me beside the bookshelf. I handed him the book.

"Look familiar?" I asked, seeing his brows raise as he flipped to a part in the book where several newspaper articles told about the people who died; one of them being the same man who died for Dean. Come to find out, he was an openly gay teacher. Another was a woman, an abortion rights advocate.

"Look at this one," Sam said, handing me a clipping. I peered down at it, furrowing my brows in the dark.

"Wright…" I said, "That's the guy out there handin' pamphlets out." I bit my lip, "We need to get out of here and find Wright." Sam nodded, pulling out his cellphone.

Dean must've answered on the first ring, "Roy's choosing victims he sees as immoral. And I think I know who's next on his list. Remember that protestor?" Sam asked, following me through the house, "Yeah. Yeah, Abigail and I will find him. But you can't let Roy heal anyone, alright?" I climbed out of the window first, landing roughly on my feet and staggered to the left a bit. Sam had dropped down shortly after, grabbing my sleeve to catch me, his eyes furrowed in a worried look. I nodded, wordlessly telling him that I was alright.

This pregnancy thing had me all messed up.

In the parking lot, Sam and I split up to cover more ground in search of Wright. I had walked down several aisles, checked several cars, eventually meeting back up with Sam.

"I'm taking it that you didn't find him too." Sam huffed out, obviously he'd been jogging.

I shook my head, almost guiltily until we both heard a faint cry of help. We turned, searching for the source of the cry and Sam had already broke into a sprint. I caught up to him, catching sight of Wright as Sam placed him between the reaper and himself. Sam looked around wildly, though, I easily saw the same old man slowly approaching them, unaffected by the fact that Sam was shielding him.

"Where is he?" I heard Sam call out, turning his head in my direction.

Wright pointed his finger forward, "Right there!" I nodded to Sam who grabbed him and pulled him into another direction.

"Fine, come on." I heard Sam mutter, picking up his cellphone. A relieved sigh passed his lips, looking to me and Wright, "David, I think it's okay."

I shook my head, "No, the reaper's still here!" Sam's eyes widened, David, crying out 'no' several times in a whimper.

"Dean, it didn't work!" Sam told Dean, "The reaper's still coming!" I watched helplessly as the reaper passed through Sam, holding his head to David's face. All at once, the reaper suddenly stopped, looking confused by something, and rose to its feet. Sam looked at me, wide eyed by the unseen battle, and glanced over to David, who was lying on the ground, gasping for breath. I watched the reaper turn and vanish before I moved to him.

"I got you." I told him softly, grasping his hand, "I got you."

David gave us both a thankful look, "Thank God."

* * *

_**Motel Room**_

I sat on the bed beside Sam, dipping a cheddar pretzel into a small jar of Peanut Butter, "So, Roy really believes." I stated, feeling dejected and popped the peanut buttery goodness into my mouth and chewed. Dean glanced at me, pulling his face into a look of being grossed out.

"I don't think he has any idea of what his wife's doing." He replied, and stopped pacing, looking at me over his shoulder from beside the window, "_How_ are you even eating that?"

I looked down at the bag of cheddar cheese _Munchies_ and jar of _Jif_ creamy peanut butter and shrugged, "I don't even know. But I know that it's pretty good if you don't think about it."

Dean's body shuddered in a grossed out cringe when I scooped two skinny _Cheetos_ into the peanut butter and popped in it my mouth with a thoughtful crunch, "You and your weird, pregnant things."

"Well, Abigail found this," Sam said, watching me with a distasteful look. He handed Dean the little book we had found within Roy's home, "Hidden in their library. It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side."

"There's a binding spell in here for trappin' a reaper." I added, licking the cheesy powder off my fingers.

Dean glanced up from the book, "Must be a hell of a spell."

Sam nodded, "Yeah. You gotta build a black alter with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood…" Sam trailed off a little, "To cross a line like that, a preacher's wife." I scoffed quietly at the irony behind it, "Black magic. Murder. Evil."

Dean looked at me, "_Desperate_. Her husband was dying, she didn't have anything to save him. She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy." We all had a taste of that line this week. It wasn't easy for any of us. I scrunched my face, feeling a fluttering sensation on my right side and looked down, rubbing it firmly.

"Cheating death, literally." I said softly, shifting beside Sam at the awkward sensation I was feeling.

"Yeah, but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?" Dean asked.

"To do right. To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral." Sam said.

"May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work." Dean sighed, leaning his head back towards the ceiling.

"We gotta break that bindin' spell," I said.

Dean stared down into the book, looking at the picture of the cross, "You know Sue Ann had a Coptic cross like this." Sam and I looked at him in surprise, "When she dropped it the reaper backed off."

"So you think we gotta find the cross or destroy the altar?" I asked.

He shrugged, "Maybe both. Whatever we do we better do it soon, or he's healing Layla tonight."

* * *

_**Church Tent, Parking Lot—Night**_

Dean coasted into the church parking lot with no lights on, pulling to a stop.

I nodded to Layla's red car, "That's Layla's car." I said, "She's already here."

Dean looked at me with a saddened look in his eyes, "Yeah."

"Dean..." Sam started to say.

"You know if Roy woulda picked Layla instead of me, she'd be here right now. And if she's not healed tonight she's gunna die in a coupla months." Dean said with guilt coating his voice.

I rested my hand on his shoulder, "Dean, don't…what's happening to her is horrible. But what are you gunna do? Let somebody else die to save her?" I asked, seeing him look at me, "You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God." I watched him in silence as he turned to look out the window, thinking deeply, albeit, unhappy about the situation before he climbed out of the car. I threw a worried glance in Sam's direction, meeting a mutual look. Getting out, we approached the tent, peeking inside to see Roy speaking to a small group of the faithful, including Layla and her mother.

"Gather round, please everyone, gather round." Roy encouraged, "Come in closer, come on up."

Dean's eyes assessed everyone in the crowd, frowning upon seeing one missing, "Where's Sue Ann?"

"House." Sam said simply. We made our way to the house, though caught sight of the security guards. A cocky look appeared on Dean's visage and he stopped.

Sam and I exchanged a glance, "Go find Sue Ann, I'll catch up."

"What are you gonna…" I asked, feeling Dean push me away with Sam. I know I didn't even have to ask, it just slipped out when Dean approached them.

"Hey!" Dean called out. The cops looked over at him, "You gonna put that fear of God in me or what?" he asked them, cockily. Rising to Dean's challenge, the cops looked to each other and smirked, dropping their coffee and run at Dean, who took off running. As soon as they left, Sam and I ran up the stairs to check the house in complete darkness.

We looked at each other confused, before spotting light emerging from the cracks of the outside basement entrance. Sam moved toward the basement entrance, opened the doors and we silently slipped inside, meeting a candlelit altar littered with parts of dead animals, blood, horns…pretty much anything one could think of for black magic. And in the center of that altar was a photo of Dean, taken from the security cameras he had pointed out when we had first arrived there.

Approaching the altar in shock, I swallowed a hard lump that had formed in my throat upon seeing a bloody 'x' marking out his face.

"I gave your husband life," Sue Ann's voice hissed out from behind, startling us, "And I can take it away." Sam and I turned to face her, infuriated. I clenched my jaw, reaching out and flipped the table the altar was on with a loud crash. Sam had went for Roy's wife, who had already run up the stairs, closing and latching the doors with a beam. By then, I had long since passed infuriation and jumped clear into a blinding rage, and Sam was a short, hop, skip, and a jump away from mutuality.

I watched him, pacing like a caged animal as he stretched out to push against the restraints and kept trying.

"Abigail, can't you see?" Sue Ann's voice rang out from the other side, "The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked." I came up alongside Sam, envisioning the broad's smug look, "And your husband is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will."

"Then I swear to _God_ that when I get out, a reaper will be the _least_ of your worries, sweetheart!" I screeched out, "Hell hath no fury." With that, I lashed out at the door and punched it with a loud _bang_, knowing that it wasn't going to do nothing but hurt me. Oh, but when Sam and I _did_ get out…she was going to pay dearly. I cursed, cradling my hand and glared at the door.

"Good-bye, Abigail." Sue Ann said, leaving us down in the basement.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked.

"I'm _fine_." I bit out, "Find a way to get out." He nodded, turning to survey the room. It didn't take him long to pull a block of wood out from the wall and smashed out a small, boarded up window. He turned to look at me, extended his hand to help me through. Carefully, I sucked in my stomach as best as I could over the remaining shards of glass within the window as I crawled out, then extended my hand to help Sam. He waved me off.

"Go find Dean!" he said. I nodded, and without another word, I sprinted towards the tent in search of Dean. It didn't take me long, due to straining my leg muscles seeing Dean stop and turning to look behind him. I looked, seeing the reaper approaching him.

"No!" I yelled out, pushing my legs to carry me over to where Dean was at. By the time I had gotten to him, the reaper held its hand on the side of Dean's head. My stomach flopped in a wave of nauseating despair, seeing his body convulse once and his face draining of color. Tears flooded my eyes, as I rounded behind Dean to look at the reaper, "Stop!" I ordered the reaper, knowing that it had fallen over deaf ears. I blinked, allowing them to fall freely down my face, "I said, _stop!_ Damn you!"

As if the thing _actually_ heard me, he stopped what he was doing to Dean and looked up, staring into my eyes. Upon stopping, Dean fell to the ground, gasping out. It took a step forward and vanished. I fell to my knees, wrapping my arms around Dean; who repeated the gesture with a tight embrace and cradling my head against his shoulder. We were both trembling from the terrifying experience.

"You okay?" I mumbled out in a broken voice.

Dean pulled back away from me, looking me over, "I think so. Are you?"

I nodded, pulling my brows together in a worried expression. Dean placed his hands onto each side of my face and kissed me deeply as a way of reassuring me that he was truly fine. Relief flooded through me, as did a tsunami of those damned pregnancy hormones, causing me to start crying. Dean pulled me into another embrace, allowing me to bury my face into his hoodie, where I found his amulet until I had stopped.

After a few moments, Dean helped me to my feet, wrapping an arm around my shoulders where we silently made it back to the Impala, just as Sam approached us.

"You okay?" He asked, seeing us.

Dean shook his head, "Hell of a week."

Sam looked over his shoulder to the tent, "Yeah…alright, come on." He urged, "We should get going." We didn't even hesitate on that one. Dean threw Sam the keys, wordlessly telling him to drive as he pulled me into the backseat with him, keeping me in a tight hold. Feeling his breath against my skin, he buried his nose into my hair, breathing in my scent with shut eyes. Against him, I felt his heart hammering against his chest matching the hammering of mine. We all stayed quiet until we had made it back to the motel room.

Once back and settled in, the side effects of all the excitement and running had finally caught up to me. I resumed my seat in the floor of the bathroom, until my body was racked in dry-heaves and sore. Wiping my face with the back of my hand to rid my face of tears, I spit, rose to my feet and pushed the lever to the toilet. I picked up a bottle of mouthwash that Sam had set aside for me and swished it around in my mouth until the taste of bile was replaced by mint.

Walking out, I threw Sam a thankful glance and hugged him, needing to feel secure and looked over to see Dean sitting on the bed, staring at nothing. With furrowed brows, I looked up to Sam, who looked back at me with a small frown, and motioned his head to Dean.

I nodded, slowly approaching my boyfriend, "What is it?" I asked.

Dean shook his head, "Nothing."

I kneeled down in front of him, taking his hands in mine, "Dean, what is it?" I asked again, gently.

He looked at me, those illegal to be real green eyes of his swirled with doubt in them, "We did the right thing here, didn't we?"

I nodded, looking over to Sam, "Of course we did."

Dean hung his head, troubled, "It doesn't feel like it," he muttered. I reached up, touching the side of his face tenderly, feeling two-day old stubble rubbing coarsely under my palm. He leaned his face into my touch, looking up as a knock at the door stopped me from saying anything.

Sam looked at us, "I got it." He opened the door as we looked to see Layla standing there, "Hey, Layla. Come on in."

She stepped in with a small smile, "Hey."

Dean and I quickly rose to our feet, "How did you know we were here?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Sam…called." Layla replied, "He said you…wanted to say goodbye?"

Dean and I glanced to Sam, who stood by the door, looking rather sheepish. I pursed my lips together to stifle a grin.

"Hey, Abs….wanna grab a soda?" he asked. I nodded, giving Dean a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder and followed him out, hooking my arm through his. I smiled to Layla as we walked by. Closing the door behind us, Sam and I strolled down the hall a little ways until we had come to the pop machine.

"You think he's gonna be okay?" Sam asked, leaning against the wall beside the pop machine. I glanced up at him, pressing the button for a _Dr. Pepper_.

"I dunno, Sammy." I said lightly, hearing the rumbling of the pop machine, then a loud _clang_! As it dispensed my pop. I crouched, picking up the bottle and shoved another dollar in, picking out a _Pepsi _for Dean, "Dean's Dean. He copes in mysterious ways."

"Like you." Sam jested.

I laughed, picking up the _Pepsi_ as it clanged in the bottom, "Yeah, like me."

He looked down, "Have you had anymore nightmares?"

I cocked my head to the side, "No…why?"

Sam shrugged, "Just wondering…I'm just glad you're finally catching a break."

I laughed uneasily, "Yeah…me too." _How do I tell them about the demon threatening my baby's life?_ He picked up a bottle of water that fell and sighed.

"Come on, I'm sure they're almost done." He said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I forced a smile, wrapping my arm around his waist as we made our way back to our motel room just as the door had opened.

"Good-bye, Dean." We heard Layla say.

"Well…" Dean cleared his throat from inside the room, "I'm not much of they praying type…" He said, a little uneasy at first, "but…I'm gonna pray for you."

Sam and I smiled at his comment, seeing Layla's eyes shining from unshed tears, "Well…" she said softly, "There's a miracle right there." Layla turned to leave, and I smiled softly to her, wrapping her in a single-armed hug.

"Good luck to you." I whispered softly, as we stepped back.

"I wish the best for you and Dean with your family," she replied as she nodded to Sam and walked away. Walking inside, I was greeted by Dean as he slid his arms around my waist, dipping his head to give me a kiss.

From behind, Sam cleared his throat, "You guys are so sickeningly sweet, it's gonna give me diabetes."

Dean broke the kiss, looking at his brother, "You're just jealous baby bro."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yeah. _So_ jealous."

I laughed, looking to Sam over my shoulder, "You can join if you want."

He shook his head, "No, thanks. Really."

I grinned, "More for me then, lil' big bro." Dean and Sam chuckled, as Dean leaned in again for another kiss.

* * *

**A/N: Hello Everyone! So Chapter 14 of _Bad Company_ is OUT! ****I want to apologize to you guys for taking so long! I have been uber busy with some personal-life issues that has to do with my college...it's a lie, just so everyone knows. I'm glad that I actually found the time to get this update out, I know ya'll are _dying_ for another one! c:**

_**Route**_** 666 is gonna be a heartbreaker! My heart is just cracking at the thought of it! -insert whine of despair-**

* * *

**Like always, I am always open for new ideas, plots, schemes, tidbits of shows/movies that you'd like to see in this fanfic! All you gotta do is put it in your review and/or private message me! I am more than willing to talk it out with you!**

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**Ladysunshine6-Thank you darling! I will be starting the next update tomorrow, so we can brainstorm to the max!  
**

**Teddy Bear 007-Thank you! I appreciate your kind words! I hope you are enjoying the story! c:**

**ebonywarrior85-Awe, shucks! Thank you! c: I always enjoy your reviews! I've seen snippets of Season 10 and I'm in _tears!_ I'm finally at the end of Season 8, getting ready to start Season 9 and I am so dreading the ending! I've already watched the last few minutes of the end of Season 9 and I cried like a big baby! When _isn't_ sexy-time with Dean, all hot and steamy? (;**

**SassyGrl23-I'm glad you liked that part! I was rolling when I was going back through it for editing! I love that Abigail can just catch Dean off-guard with little comebacks. You'll see a lot more further along the story! **

**Thegirlwhowaited24601****-Awe, thank you! You made some great timing! I'm so glad that you like this story! I hope to see some more reviews later on down the road. c:**

* * *

**Also! I'd like to send a shout-out to ladysunshine6 and alidaversa! You two are simply amazing, and I can't express how much I love and appreciate you guys! Ladysunshine6, I can't wait for our talks for future heartbreak in the upcoming update, _Route 666_! (;**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles!**


	16. Route 666

**Disclaimer: I do not own the _Supernatural _franchise, in no way. All I own is Abigail and the little bits and peices that isn't canon.**

* * *

_**Marathon Gas Station**_

_**Charleston, West Virginia**_

Today had been an off-day, granted, we were leaving Charlie and Kara's place. It was always nice to see them, always reminding us that we had a place to stay. Kara had turned thirty-seven weeks, her due date with Gavin inching closer and closer, and she was growing uneasy. After a couple of days there, we had decided to head out to avoid any unwanted awkwardness due to the raging hormones of a third trimester pregnant woman and an eleven week pregnant woman. Things were more or less ways to detour an oncoming wave of tears or a shit-fit, that's what Dean advised.

Standing outside of a Marathon gas station, Sam and I stood in front of the Impala, leaning over a map we had laid out while Dean was off to the side, listening to his voice-mails.

I pointed to an area on the map, "Okay. I think I found a way we can bypass that construction east of here." I glanced up to Sam, "We might even make it to Pennsylvania faster than we thought."

Sam nodded, watching my finger tap a back road that wasn't too far from where we were at, "Sounds good." He looked over to me as I reached out to pick up my now decaf coffee and took a sip, pulling a face at the cup.

"I thought you said this was better for me," I muttered, gazing up to him.

"It _is_, Abigail. It'll just take a while for you to get adjusted to it." Sam replied, "You need to start eating better for the baby."

"I'm eatin' just fine, thank you very much." I defended, knitting my brows together in a small pout.

"Eating _Munchies_ and peanut butter for two days isn't healthy," He chuckled out.

I held up a bag of jerky, "Protein's good." I said, then held up a bottle of green tea, "Green tea's good. It's a green." Sam rolled his eyes at me.

"Not hardly, Abs." Sam replied, "You need to start eating things that have high folic acid content, like spinach, kale, things that are dark, leafy greens."

I rolled my eyes at him this time, "Whatever you say, Popeye."

Dean looked over at us with a thoughtful look, "Yeah. Problem is," he said lowering his phone, "We're not going to Pennsylvania."

Sam and I exchanged a confused glance, "We what?" Sam asked.

He shuffled in his spot, "I just got a call from an, uh, old friend." He said. I arched my brow at him. _Old friend, huh?_ "Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing."

Sam scrunched his face, trying to wrap his mind over what just happened with his brother, "What?"

Dean threw me an unsure look, "Yeah. Believe me, she never woulda called, _never_, if she didn't need us."

I crossed my arms in between my stomach and breasts, "So, who's this _old friend_?"

"Cassie." He replied.

"Cassie…" I murmured, "As in, Cassie, from _Ohio_, Cassie?" I asked him rather slowly, not realizing that my tone of voice had turned into something along the lines of wariness.

Dean nodded, "That'd be the one."

I shrugged, trying to pull of the nonchalant, '_I know you dated her and I'm not mad or anything_' shrug, while in reality, somewhere in between my heart hammering my chest like it was molten steel and the fluttering sensation from what I guessed was the baby kicking, laid the green-eyed monster known as jealousy—not that I didn't like Cassie or anything, I did, she was a nice person, "Okay."

Dean blinked, "_Okay?_" he repeated, "You're okay with us going to Cassie's?"

I glanced off to the left a little, then back to Dean's surprised face, "Yeah…I'm fine."

Sam looked between us, genuinely confused about the whole _old_ _friend_ thing, and judging by how off I was acting, Sam glanced to Dean. I didn't say anything else to either man, picked up the map that was laid up on the hood of the Impala; along with the swill that was supposed to be coffee and opened the passenger side door to the back seat, "Come on, we goin' or not?"

Dean furrowed his brows, "Missouri it is then." He muttered, passing Sam without a second glance and got in the car.

Aside from Bad Company's _Holy Water_ playing across the stereo, the three of us had been in an awkward silence. I stared out of the window as the Impala cruised down the road; fields on one side of us, a lake on the other. My foot twitched to the beat of the song as I silently mouthed the words, unaware of Dean glancing back at me through the rearview with Sam observing us both.

_Feels like I'm walking on holy water... Feels like I'm walking on sacred ground, baby... Feels like, I'm walking on holy water, every time that you come 'round,_ I mouthed and ran a hand through my hair.

"So," Sam began, breaking our silence, "By old friend you mean...?" he implied, glancing over to Dean.

"A friend that's not new." I stated in a dry tone.

Sam scoffed, "Oh yeah, thanks." He jested continuing to look at Dean, "So her name's Cassie huh? You never mentioned her."

Dean turned his head slightly, "Didn't I?" Silence fell between them, however Sam stared at Dean expectantly. He rolled his eyes at him, "Yeah, we went out before Abs and I got together."

Sam laughed, "You mean you _dated _somebody?" he asked, "For more than one night? I mean, aside from Abigail."

Dean pursed his lips at him, "Am I speaking a language you're not getting here?"

I rolled my eyes, "Dad, Dean, and I were working a job in Ohio, and she was finishing up college." I explained from the backseat, "They went out for a coupla weeks."

Sam looked surprised, "_And…_?"

Dean shrugged from up front, "If it makes you feel any better, Abs dated someone, too."

"Abigail's relationship status was always consistent, that's no surprise." Sam retorted, "How you managed to even hold a steady relationship for _this_ long is beyond me."

I pulled a face, "Me and you both, Sammy." Dean furrowed his brows at me earning a shrug. It was true. How Dean Winchester managed to stay with me this long is a miracle…since _Cassie_ was gonna be back in the picture now—I shifted in the backseat, uncomfortable about the thoughts I was having until Sam broke me away from them, thankfully.

"You told her." Sam deadpanned, "You _told_ her, the secret! Our big family rule _number one;_ _We do what we do and we shut up about it_." Sam shook his head with a scoff, "For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times and you tell her _everything_?" Sam looked back at me, fuming, "Did you know about this?"

I shrugged, seeing that Dean had said nothing in his defense, "Don't ask, don't tell." I mused, seeing him look back at his brother.

"_Seriously_?" he asked us both.

"Yeah, looks like." Dean stated, putting his foot down on the accelerator. Sam shook his head, an evident bitch face in place.

This was going to be a fun week ahead.

Only, not really.

* * *

_**Cape Girardeau, Missouri**_

_**Newspaper Office—Day**_

Getting out of the Impala, I wrung my hands, more or less, staying close to Sam. I looked down at what I had on with a frown. Despite the fact that Kara had forced me into a maternity shopping spree with her, and spending more than enough on clothes that I wouldn't wear more than once, I felt hideous. I had on a pair of deconstructed jeans, a baggy, navy blue camisole that I thought was pretty, and my usual, hooded denim jacket that had, at one point in time, belonged to Sam. My stomach still managed to protrude, causing me to cover it up with my jacket until Dean grabbed my arm, stopping me. Sam looked at him quizzically.

"Go on ahead," Dean told him. Sam looked to us, only to nod and walked ahead. Dean turned his head to me, "Look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea about this."

I forced a smile, "I'm not. I get it."

"You do?" he asked, seeming a little bewildered.

I nodded, "Yeah, I mean, if one of my ex's called me needin' help, I'd go runnin' to them too. I mean, I ain't blind, Dean. I was there bein' the third-wheel."

Dean let out scoff, "Alright. That…that right there is how I knew you would react. You're really gonna act like this?" I said nothing, clenching my jaw to keep from anything else slipping out that would only make things worse. My eyes trailed to the asphalt, almost wishing that I had stayed back with Charlie and Kara.

Dean placed his hand under my chin, lifting it up to peer at me, "Hey." He said, much softer, "Abs, don't think just because we're here helping Cassie, that something's gonna happen." I stared at him quietly, brilliant hazel orbs staring back into mine with worry, "You're all that matters to me. You and our baby. No one else, aside from Sam." Dean shook his head, cupping my face, "I need you to believe that." I hesitated for a moment, seeing his brows knit together, "You do believe me, don't you?"

I bit my lip and slowly nodded, "I do."

He let out a sigh of relief, "You're not going to go all jealous, pregnant girlfriend on me, are you?" He asked, trying to cheer me up.

I shook my head, "No." I muttered, feeling like a scolded child. I knew I shouldn't act like some jealous teenager about a past-relationship of Dean's. I also knew that Dean wouldn't ever try anything, but how I felt about him. It was impeccable, it was like nothing I've ever felt before, and I solely hoped he felt the same way. I sighed, "Don't give a reason to be and I won't have to, I guess."

Dean's lips widened into a grin, leaning in to kiss me on the lips. It was delicate at first, like a silent promise, then he pressed his lips against mine harder and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me against his body. I knew then and there, that was a vow. If I knew Dean, he was a man of his word. When he pulled away, we were both a little short of breath, he stared in my own blue orbs with sincerity, "Trust me, those days were over when I pulled you out of that lake."

"Damn, I have to drown just to get your attention." I retorted in a haughty manner as Dean and I slowly made our way to the doors of the newspaper office.

Dean snorted, "You always had my attention. I was just an ass for the majority of the time. Until Chicago." He pulled a face, "You shoulda waited for us."

I rolled my eyes, "Dean that was in '99. How are you even mad about that still?"

He shrugged casually at me, "I get mad over anything that involved you."

I snorted, swatting him on the chest, "Then, when I get mad over things that involve you, take it as a complement."

Dean lifted his hand to his forehead as a salute and smirked, "Will do."

Entering the building, Sam was standing near the door patiently, eyeing us as means of knowing we were done talking. I smiled at Sam, receiving a relieved smile from him.

"What'd we miss?" I whispered, seeing two men and a woman arguing; a middle aged black man and a middle aged white man. The woman I knew right off the bat.

Sam shrugged, "Debating what the Mayor wants and what he wants them to sit on."

Dean and I nodded, a little intrigued by them arguing.

The Mayor, a middle-aged white man, looked to Jimmy, "Jimmy, you're too close to this. Those guys were friends of yours." He gave Cassie a sympathetic look, "Again, Cassie, I'm very sorry for your loss."

As the Mayor parted ways with Jimmy and Cassie, Jimmy shook his head; mumbling under his breath while a sigh left Cassie and she turned, looking straight at Dean.

Dean stood beside me, appearing slightly apprehensive about seeing his ex-girlfriend.

"Dean…" Cassie said, a mix of emotions crossing her face.

"Hey Cassie." Dean said to her with a smile. I stood off to the side a smidgen with Sam, rolling my eyes at him. "You remember Abigail?" he asked without hesitation.

Cassie's eyes left Dean's and fell on me, smiling, "Of course." Like I said, I didn't _not_ like Cassie. She was a genuinely nice person—a total sweetheart. I just didn't like what I _knew_, "It's nice to see you again, Abigail. How have you been?"

Again, I forced a smile, "I've seen better days. Aside from being pregnant, I guess I can say I've been tolerable."

Her eyes lit up, happy for me, "Oh my God, are you really?"

I nodded wielding a smug look on my face, "Yep."

Before Cassie could ask about my pregnancy any further, Dean cleared his throat, "This is my brother, Sam." She smiled to Sam, who returned one of his own. Cassie's eyes fell back to Dean, "Sorry 'bout your Dad."

She nodded, "Yeah. Me too." And for another few moments, Dean and Cassie held each other's gaze. I shifted uncomfortably, despite the talk him and I had just a few minutes prior. Sam glanced over to me, growing a little concerned.

* * *

_**House**_

Cassie walked into the room Dean, Sam, and I were sitting in. Dean sat close to me, hand on my thigh not catching the look Cassie gave him, "My mother's in pretty bad shape." She said, setting the tray down on a table, "I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad."

"Why?" Sam asked, taking lead on the investigation.

Cassie poured tea into the cups, "He was scared. He was seeing things."

Dean's brows pulled together, "Like what?"

"He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him." She replied.

"A truck." I stated, "Who was the driver?"

Cassie handed me a cup of tea; in which I took, feeling the warmth of it heat my insides and hands as I took a sip, muttering a small 'thank you'. Dean stared at his like it was an alien, setting it off to the side rather quickly. Dean did not do tea, unlike me. It was something that had caffeine in it.

"He didn't talk about a driver. Just the truck." She explained, "He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big."

Sam accepted his cup of tea, "Thanks. Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?"

Cassie looked to him, "He sold cars. Always drove a new one." Her lips twitched into a sad smile at the memory, "There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car...leading right to the edge, where he went over." She paused, bowing her head in order to gain control of her emotions. Letting out a hefty sigh, she blinked away unshed tears, "One set of tracks. His."

"The first was a friend of your fathers?" I asked.

She nodded, "Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He 'lost control of his car.'"

I glanced over to Sam, who looked like he was in deep thought until he peered up at Cassie, "Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?"

She shook her head, "No."

"And you think this vanishin' truck ran them off the road?" I asked, skeptical.

She frowned, looking over at Dean as means to quiet me down, "When you say it aloud like that…listen, I'm a little skeptical about this…ghost stuff…or whatever it is you guys are into." Before I could stop it, a scoff had escaped with means to belittle her with Sam staring at the both of us, silent.

Dean huffed, "Skeptical." He stated, leaning forward, "If I remember, I think you said I was nuts."

"That was then." Cassie replied. Her eyes lingered on Dean a little longer than what I deemed was necessary. I mean, seriously, it was like she was mentally screwing him, "I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you."

The sound of a door opening alerted us as a middle aged woman, presumably Cassie's mother, entered the room. We all rose to our feet as Cassie went over to take her mother by the arm, worried, "Mom. Where have you been I was so..."

Her mother eyed us, flustered and grieving, "I had no idea you'd invited friends over."

"Mom, this is Dean, a...friend of mine from... college. And his brother and sister, Sam and Abigail." Cassie introduced.

Mrs. Robinson nodded, looking to her daughter, "Well I won't interrupt you."

Sam looked at her, "Mrs. Robinson. We're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?"

Mrs. Robinson looked at him, slightly affronted by his question, "I'm not really up for that right now." She left the room, leaving us behind looking at each other, slightly bewildered.

_Awkward, much?_

* * *

_**Motel Room—Night**_

Sam blew out a sigh, "Guys, I'm starving. I'm gonna head out and grab something. You want anything?" he asked, looking to Dean and I, questioningly.

"Bacon cheeseburger and fries." Dean said simply, "Dude, you know what I eat."

Sam laughed, "Yeah, you're awfully religious about it too." His gaze fell on me, "Abigail, what about you?"

I shrugged, "Nah, I'm good."

Sam and Dean both frowned at me, "Are you okay?" Dean asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just…don't feel good. Hormones has me out of whack today, 's all." Sam nodded, though from the look Dean gave him, he wordlessly told him to get me something. Closing the door behind him, Dean pulled me into his arms as we laid on the bed.

"Apparently he needs a break from us." He murmured into my ear huskily, nipping my ear lobe. I sucked in a short breath, feeling my skin prickle from the gesture, "What do you think?" I hummed, trying to suppress the feeling of unworthiness that sat in my chest like a ton of bricks. His breath tickled against my neck, "I'm taking it as a _yes_."

Feeling him plant light, feathered kisses along my shoulder and neck, I rested my hands on his waist, allowing myself to submerge myself in his not-so-evil ways. A soft, barely audible sigh passed through my lips upon Dean kissing the soft skin where my neck and shoulders met, his hands roaming from the top of my hip, bunching the hem of my shirt where his fingertips barely brushed against my skin. Staring at me with adoration in his eyes, Dean nudged the side of my head with his causing the tips of our noses to touch as a playful, boyish grin graced his handsome features.

I smiled at his playfulness with all reminiscence of unworthiness washed away and allowed a giggle to escape, moving my hands to his shirt, tugging it to where he had to move on top of me. Resting on his forearms, he held a cocky look in his eyes, "Thought you weren't feelin' good."

I stared at him innocently, "I'm feelin' a little better. Though, I think you can help with the rest." I toyed with his amulet, glancing to it then back up at him with slightly puckered lips in a faux-pout before cracking that into a salacious grin. In one swift movement, Dean grinned and sat up pulling his shirt off, letting it fall to the ground in a heap.

"Oh, I got you need, sugar-pie." He said, then paused as if something had dawned on him, "Crap. Pie." He reached into his jacket and pulled out his cellphone, dialing Sam's number. It didn't take long for him to answer, "Sammy, don't forget the—." He blinked a couple of times and laughed, "That's my boy, Sam! Alright. Carry on whatever geek stuff you do." Dean hung up and put the cellphone beside mine on the table.

I laughed from underneath him, "You mean to tell me, you stopped everythin' to remind Sammy about pie?"

He shrugged, "Well, tell me a better way of making you feel—." I stopped him mid-sentence by sliding down the straps of my camisole and bra, exposing the tops of my breasts, staring up at him as I bit my lip. He gazed down at them with an appreciative look, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

By the time Sam had returned from getting food, Dean and I were nestled in the bed. Underneath the sheets, Dean lazily drew circles and meaningless patterns on my shoulder with the tip of his middle finger as we watched an episode of South Park in silence. Walking through the motel door, bags in tow, Sam saw the covers drawn up over Dean and groaned, pulling a grossed out face.

"Oh God, guys. Really?" He muttered, hanging his head so that he stared at the floor.

I looked over my shoulder at him with a smile, "You're fine, Sammy. I have clothes on."

He sighed looking up from the ground, "You know, if you two were going to do _that_, then I woulda got separate room."

Dean rolled his eyes at him, "Dude, it's not like you're seeing anything. Abigail needed a little stress relief, and well," He pulled me closer to him with a smug grin, "That's all she wrote." Sam shook his head at Dean, crossing the room with a couple of bags. Dean sat up in bed, eyeing the bags; mainly interested in the contents.

Sitting the bags down on to his bed, Sam rummaged through them, "Uh, here's your bacon cheeseburger and fries," He said, taking out a white Styrofoam box, to which Dean grinned and snatched it away from his brother, propping the lid open in front of him. Sam pulled out another box, setting it in front of me. I looked at it, confused and looked up at him.

"Sammy, you didn't have to get me anythin'." I said, seeing him shrug.

"You need to eat." He replied, leaning over to kiss me on top of the head in a brotherly fashion, "Besides, my nephew's probably starving. So eat up."

I looked over to Dean with a surprised look and laughed, flipping the Styrofoam box open to see a thing of spaghetti and garlic bread, "It makes me all frisky when you take control like that, Sammy." I jested hearing both boys laugh at my joke, "Thanks, though."

"No problem." He replied, handing over another box to me, "It came with a salad."

I looked at it like it was an alien, "_O_kay?" Dean looked at the box, almost horrified. My stomach growled loudly, as if a pack of hellhounds were living in my stomach and getting rather hungry. I shrugged, taking a packet of Italian dressing and smothered the salad and dug in.

Dean's eyes widened, "Who are you and what have you done with Abigail?"

I covered my mouth after I took a bite, "I'm still here, just starvin'."

He nudged me in the side with his elbow, "Thought you weren't hungry."

I laughed, "Guess I am now, since there's food in front of me." I patted in front of me, "You can sit with us, Sammy." My little brother shook his head with a small smile.

"Ah, I'm fine." He replied, then he looked down at his salad, "So, uh, have you guys thought of a name?"

Dean had taken a large bite of his burger, looking at me and shrugged. I chewed thoughtfully, shaking my head.

"No…not really." I replied, swallowing, "Haven't really thought about it."

Sam stared at us a little shock, "You mean, you guys never think about what you're gonna name the baby?"

Dean shook his head, "Dude, we still have several months to think about it."

"You guys don't even have any baby books!" Sam said, "How are you going to know what to do?"

"Uh, instinct." I stated, "It's not that hard takin' care of a baby. I took care of my kid sisters and brother just fine."

Dean pulled a face at Sam, "Yeah, you came out just fine." Sam rolled his eyes at us.

"Seriously. Not one name?" Sam asked.

I rolled my eyes, "Cody Bryant." Dean and Sam stared at me for a moment, stunned that I had come up with something that quick, "I think it sounds good." I shrugged again, poking at the rest of my salad, "Should somethin' happen and this baby is a girl, then Megan Daniella."

"Well, you heard Missouri tell us all that it was gonna be a boy." Dean said, "I say we stick with Cody Bryant until we find a better name." I nodded.

"I know what Missouri said," I replied, "You never know though." Dean and Sam pulled a face, I had a point, "Either or, I'm fine with being healthy."

Dean nodded, "Exactly. That's all I care about." He took a bite of his cheeseburger, "I hafta askt." He said, muffled with food in his mouth, "Whar did 'ou come up wif—," Dean swallowed his bite, "_Megan Daniella_?"

I shrugged, "Megan means 'strong and capable' and 'Child of Light', and Daniella is just a feminized version of Daniel, who survived the den of lions in the Old Testament."

Dean stared at me like he stared at Sam upon explaining in Encyclopedia of Weird lingo, "Sam, I regret everything I said about you being the walking Encyclopedia of Weird. Abs, you have just now taken the role of that."

Sam chuckled, "Why Megan?"

I pursed my lips at Dean, "Cause Stubborn-Ass Winchester wouldn't be parent approved." Dean snorted in amusement from beside me, "But in all seriousness, this baby's going to be born a Winchester. Might as well have a name to back it up." Sam looked to Dean and grinned. From beside me, Dean was smiling and leaned into me as a way of supporting whatever I did.

* * *

_**Crash Scene—Morning**_

At the ass-crack of dawn, Dean had gotten a call from Cassie about another fatal crash. Getting up had been the most unenthusiastic things I wanted to do, because Cassie was the first person I saw when we arrived. From the looks of her deep scowl, she was unhappy and giving the Mayor a piece of her mind. I pulled a surprised face at the scene before us._  
_

"How about closing down the road, for starters?" Cassie was saying to the mayor as we approached.

"Close the main road." The mayor stated, "The _only_ road in and _out_ of town?" He shook his head, "Accidents happen, Cassie, and that's what they are. Accidents."

"Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy's car, see if it was pushed?" Dean asked the mayor, looking thoughtful.

The Mayor looked to Cassie, "Who's this?"

"Dean, Sam, and Abigail Winchester. Family friends." She replied, introducing us, "This is Mayor Harold Todd." He looked over at us approvingly.

"There's one set of tire tracks. One. Doesn't point to foul play."

"Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you." Cassie said, "If you're indifferent about..."

Harold gaped at her, flabbergasted, "Indifferent!"

Cassie held her ground, staring at him with the tenacity I should give credit to her for, "Would you close the road if the victims were white?"

"You suggesting I'm racist Cassie? I'm the last person you should talk to like that." He said.

"And why is that?"

"Why don't you ask your mother?" Harold told her before he walked away, leaving the four of us standing in the field. Cassie showed the boys the initial crash site off the road while I stayed behind, nauseated due to the fact that I hadn't taken my Zofran yet, and that there was enough people down there. Sam or Dean would look my way occasionally, to which, I would lift a couple of fingers in a small reassurance to them I was fine.

Pulling my jacket closer around me, I sighed watching the cloud of vapor dissipate before my eyes, bored. I chewed on the inside of my jaw, _observing_ in silence as Cassie would find every excuse for Dean to touch her or vice versa. Every time she would 'slip' in the mud causing Dean to catch her arm, or every little touch on his arm, I bit down harder until the coppery taste of blood made me stop and reevaluate myself. The little green eyed monster was rearing its ugly little head. I didn't need to act like a child.

Then I noticed Cassie inch her way closer to Dean. I chewed on the left side of my jaw, working it oddly with pursed lips. _This pregnancy hormone crap is gonna cause me to hurt someone_, I mused in my head, running a hand through my tangled hair. _Eye of the Tiger, Abs. Seriously._ I saw Dean looking up at me with an arched brow and I smiled at him, raising my shoulders in a small shrug in a silent way of saying I was bored. I was fit to be tied, to be honest, but I couldn't let him know that. Feeling a swift kick to my right, I scrunched my face placing a hand to the place of origin, seeing Dean's curious look soften.

Cassie or Sam one must've said something to him, so he rolled his eyes and returned to being all businesslike again, so I sighed.

* * *

_**Motel Room**_

I fastened the top button to a wine colored maternity button-up shirt that I had recently acquired thanks to Kara, then smoothed the shirt out to look how it fit on me, i.e. how it looked on my growing stomach, "I'll say this for her," I said loudly from the bathroom, "she's fearless."

Dean hummed in agreement, fixing his tie in the mirror with pursed lips. Walking out from the bathroom, I smoothed out my pants and picked up the matching jacket to my navy blue pants, "Bet she kicked your ass a coupla time, when I wasn't around."

Dean's eyes flickered over to me, saying nothing in return before he focused back on his tie, and threw up his hands in a sign of defeat.

I smiled at him as I shrugged the jacket on, buttoning it, "What's interesting is you guys never really look at each other at the same time." I stated, crossing the motel room to help him. His brow rose, encouraging me to continue my observation, "You look at her when she's not looking, she checks you out when you look away." I reached over his shoulder to line up the ends of his tie with a smile, glancing up at him every now and then as I looped the tie together, forming a knot, "It's just a..." I quirked my head to the side, "Just an interesting observation in a...you know...observationally interesting way."

Dean slid the knot up to where it was comfortable, and looked at me, "You think we might have more pressing issues here?"

I stepped back from him, raising my hands, "Hey, if I'm hittin' a nerve."

He gazed at me quietly, observing me no doubt. With three steps, Dean was in front of me and brought his hands to each of my arms, where he slid them down until they were at my hands; his thumbs fiddling with my mother's old rings, "I think it's a nerve of your own, you're hitting babe."

My eyes widened, feeling my face flush from embarrassment. He smirked, leaning forward and planted a tender kiss on my forehead, "You need to calm down, and trust me." He murmured, kissing me softly on my lips, "Or I swear, I dye your hair some weird color when you're asleep."

I giggled, "I would be genuinely afraid for the safety of my hair, but," I leaned forward with a smug look, "I'm pregnant. Nothin's touchin' my hair." Dean chuckled, bowing his head to stare at my stomach, where his hands went from my hands to my stomach in one fluid motion, then sank to his knees. At first, I was little bewildered to see the Dean Winchester on his knees, but when he pressed his lips to the right side of my stomach, _right_ where the baby was nestled, my heart absolutely melted.

"I promise not to turn your mom into a Smurf if you tell her to quit treatin' your dad like he's two." Dean spoke to my stomach softly, his eyes glancing upwards to me where he smirked, and stood up, "What? Two men can't have a conversation?" he asked, taking me by the hand, then snorted, "_Cody_. That's a douche-y name."

I arched my brow at him, "So is Dean, but you don't hear me complainin'." I quipped as we walked out of the motel room, where Sam was waiting for us.

* * *

_**Docks—Day**_

Dean, Sam, and I passed a few people fishing as we approached two older men having lunch at a checkers table. There was a can of opened fish spread and crackers, a rolled up newspaper underneath. The three of us stopped beside their table.

"Excuse me. Are you Ron Stubbins?" I asked the older balding man. He nodded.

"You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?" Dean asked.

Ron looked at the three of us, skeptically, "Who are you?"

"We're Mr. Anderson's insurance company." I replied sweetly, "We're just here to dot 'I's' and cross 'T's'."

Ron nodded to Sam, "Takes three of you'uns?"

I laughed, "No, sir. Not normally." I rubbed my growing stomach, "He's takin' my place before I go on maternity leave." Ron nodded.

"You know, showin' the ropes." Dean added.

Sam stepped up, "We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?"

"What do you mean, unusual?" Ron asked.

"Well visions, hallucinations." Sam explained. Ron looked to Dean and I with an awkward look in his eyes, unsure of what kind of question he was being asked.

Dean smiled at him in reassurance, "It's part of a medical examination kind of thing. All very standard."

"What company did you say you were with?" Ron asked us.

"All National Mutual." I said quickly.

"Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?" Sam asked. Dean and I shot him a warning glance when Ron leaned forward.

"What the hell you talking about?" He asked Sam, "You even speaking English?"

Ron friend shifted beside him, "Son this truck, a big scary monster looking thing?" he asked.

Dean and I exchanged a glance, then glanced to Sam, "Yeah actually, I think so." Dean said.

His friend rubbed his chin, humming.

I tilted my head to the side, curious. "What?"

His eyes met mine, "I have heard of a truck like that."

Sam licked his lips, throwing us a glance, "You have. Where?"

"Not where. _When._" Ron's friend answered as he sat back in his chair, "Back in the '60s there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck."

"They ever catch the guy who did it?" I asked.

He shook his head, "Never found him. Hell, not sure they even really looked." His eyes went to each of us, "See there was a time, this town wasn't too friendly to all it's citizens." Stubbins exchanged a knowing look to his dark-skinned partner, who nodded and they resumed their game of checkers.

I smiled to them, "Thank you."

We made our way back to down the pier to the Impala.

Dean ducked his head, "Truck."

I nodded, "Keeps comin' up, doesn't it?"

"You know, I was thinking. You heard of the flying Dutchman?" Dean asked us.

Sam and I nodded, "Yeah, a ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him."

Dean nodded, "So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes."

"The victims have all been black men." I stated.

"I think it's more than that." Dean said, "They all seem connected to Cassie and her family."

Sam nodded, "Alright. Well, you guys work that angle, go talk to her. I'll meet you guys back at the room."

Dean and I nodded, "Yeah I will."

As we got to the car, Sam looked to Dean and I, "Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing."

I furrowed my brows, "What other thing?"

"The serious, unfinished business?" Sam said looking to the both of us with a knowing look, but didn't want to call it. I shifted, looking down to my cellphone, as if something about it had caught my eye. He huffed a laugh, "Guys, seriously. What is going on?"

Dean blew out a breath, "Alright, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said."

I glanced up at the back of Dean's head, growing uneasy. He might've played as if it happened years and years ago, but to me, it was like it happened yesterday. I blinked, trying to banish bad thoughts away. I constantly heard berated comments within my head.

_You're not good enough._ One voice would say.

_As soon as he has the chance, Dean's going to leave, and where does that leave you?_ Another would follow close behind.

_You're unworthy of him. _

_You're not good enough._

_He doesn't want you. _

_You've gotten fat._

_You're not Cassie_.

I scrunched my face, blinking away unshed tears before they could catch onto my inner struggle. I looked up, seeing Sam giving Dean an expectant look, as if he was waiting for a legit answer.

Dean worked his jaw oddly, "Okay, a lot more. Maybe." Sam's brows knitted together, "And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have."

"Everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime." I said quietly, looking to Sam with a forlorn look in my eyes.

Dean scoffed, "It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended."

All eyes went to him and he shifted, "What?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat the size of a cue ball, "You loved her." I concluded in a quiet voice.

Dean scrunched his face, flinging his arms up, "Oh God!" He turned to the Impala, "What about that, Sonny-guy you were dating?" He fired back.

Sam blinked, looking back at me, surprised.

I scoffed, "Don't change the subject! And for your information, _Dean Matthew_, I never went out with the guy! We just had coffee!" Dean looked at me like I had uttered the vilest thing in the world to him. Sam's eyes grew wide, possibly to the size of saucers, "You were in love with her, but you dumped her." I finished.

Dean got quiet. Scary quiet. As in, the calm before the storm quiet. Sam shifted beside us, growing anxious, "She dumped me, _for your information_." He threw Sam an uncomfortable look. Usually whenever we had disagreements, we didn't have Sam around, "And thing is, I was in love; but not with her. Now cut it out, the both of you." He warned, gazing to the both of us.

Without another word, Dean opened the door to the Impala and got in, "Get in the car!" he barked out.

I chewed on my lip again, seeing Sam give me a saddened look before we both got in.

* * *

_**Cassie's House—Night**_

Having dressed out of our 'formal' attire at the motel room and dropping Sam off, Dean and I found ourselves sitting out in the Impala. Dean cut the engine off, glancing out to the house with a couple of windows lit. "Ready?" he asked, turning his head to me.

I shook my head, "You go on."

His brows knit together, "What?"

I twisted my mother's ring on my thumb, "Dean, I trust you. I'd go to the ends of the earth with you." I took a deep breath, "I just think you'd do better if it was just you and her. Or at least, she would open up to you better if I wasn't around."

Dean grew quiet as if he were weighing his options, then nodded, "Yeah. You're right." He agreed, "Especially if she's hiding something." Leaning in the seat, he kissed me deeply, brushing his fingertips along the side of my cheek before he broke it, "It shouldn't take long."

Biting my lip, I nodded. I could trust him, I have for this long. In silence, I watched him exit the car, and headed towards the house, shortly entering. With an irritated blow, I flopped back into the front seat and pulled out my iPod. Crossing my legs, I put my earbuds in and scrolled through my song list, more or less blinded by the bright light from the screen until I settled on Hank Williams' _Kaw-liga._ I tapped my left foot to the beat, singing along with it until _Kaw-liga_ turned into _Oceanfront Property_ and then a dozen or so songs later, Led Zeppelin's _Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You_.

Lifting my arm, I squinted at my watch and frowned, it had been close to an hour. I frowned, sitting up in the seat, staring at Cassie's house. Something in the pit of my stomach didn't sit well with me, allowing the little green-eyed monster that I've been fighting with all day, to rear its ugly head. Normally, I would be the good little girl and wait; not going into someone's house for any reason at all. Since I have stepped foot in Missouri, witnessed the exaggerated attempts from an ex-_lover_ of Dean's man-handle him, and a little thing called pregnancy hormones mixed with jealousy; I think we all know who won there.

I stood outside the door with my phone out and texted, '_What's taking so long?'_ to Dean's phone then sent it. I tapped my chin with the antenna before pushing it down, reaching out for the door knob, realizing that it was unlocked. I stepped inside, looking around the main area of the house curiously for any signs of Dean and Cassie. From another part of the house, I heard Dean bark out a laugh, "Oh that's hilarious. See, I'm not the one who took that big final door and slammed it behind me."

"Ok wait a minute..." I heard Cassie's voice begin.

"And I'm not the one who took the key and buried it." Dean continued. I frowned.

Cassie made a sound, something like a scoff, "We done with this metaphor?"

"All's I'm saying is I was totally up front with you back then, and you nailed me for it."

"The guy I'm with," Cassie began, "the guy I'm hoping might be in my future, tells me he professionally pops ghosts—" I scrunched my face at her reference to our job.

"That's not the words I used!" Dean interrupted her.

"And that he has to leave, to go work with his father and his sister." She finished.

"I did!"

"All I could think was, '_If you want out fine, but don't tell me this insane story_.'" Cassie quipped.

"It was the truth Cassie, and I notice it didn't sound insane the minute you thought I could help you." Dean stated, his voice rising from his short temper.

"Well back then I thought you just wanted to dump me." She said.

"Whoa! Now let's not forget who dumped who okay?" Dean said getting defensive.

"I thought it was what you wanted." She said.

Dean fell silent, "Why would you say that?"

"Well, it was obvious that you were hung up on someone." I heard Cassie say, "Everyone except _you_ could've seen it." She sighed, "I just figured that there was no reason of us even trying with something like that."

"I didn't mean to hurt you." Dean said quietly.

"Well you did!" Cassie snapped, a mix of emotions in her voice.

"I'm sorry!" He said.

"Yeah, me too." Came her reply.

I took a deep breath in order for me to act as if I had just walked in to check up on them, then stepped into their view, and froze, seeing Cassie practically throw herself on Dean. In the span of three seconds, my whole world shattered. A small gasp escaped my mouth, causing Dean to jerk Cassie away from him like she was poison and stared at me like a deer caught in headlights, "Abs!"

I scrunched my face as if I had gotten punched in the gut and wheeled around to not see the stricken look on his face. Outside, I had already slammed the front door behind me, ignoring Dean's frantic calls, and started to walk as fast as I could whilst wiping tears away like a dam had burst. I felt like I was going to lose my mind. I could feel it beginning to unravel, the thread of every happy memory I could ever recall with Dean, fall into a disarray of strings that got lost with every quick step I had taken.

I had become oblivious to everything around me as my chest heaved in an ungodly manner, the environment around me blurring into a series of dark navy blues to grays, and I couldn't find the strength to breath properly. I didn't realize how far I had gotten until the familiar roar of the Impala's engine caused my heart to clench in my chest. I didn't slow down for it. I knew deep down, that I wasn't good enough for the man in that car. I was just too incompetent to listen.

The screeching sound of the tires resonated from behind, followed by the sound of a door slamming. I clenched my jaw, squeezing my eyes shut upon hearing Dean call out my name.

"Abigail!"

I didn't stop walking, instead, I swiped my face to rid myself of tears, then felt a firm grasp on the back of my arm. I jerked away, "_Don't_ touch me." I snarled out, wheeling around to see Dean's frantic appearance.

"Let me explain," Dean said.

I gave him a once over, "Oh, I saw enough to _not_ have it explained." I hissed out, tapping my head, "I ain't blind."

He swung his arm back in the direction of Cassie's house, "_That_ wasn't what you thought it was, Abs, I swear!"

My voice raised, "Then what was it, Dean?!"

"A mistake!" He answered, his voice rising as well. In the light of the Impala's headlights, Dean's eyes glittered from unshed tears.

I let out a harsh laugh, "_A mistake_? You lettin' Cassie throw herself on you all day is _a mistake_? Then I walk in there," I swung an arm in the direction of her house as well, "and see her tongue down your throat!" I nodded with a dark look in my eyes, "Yeah, that _totally_ sounds like some mistake you got there, Dean." I said sarcastically.

"I _never_ kissed Cassie." He stated, "You know I wouldn't."

My bottom lip trembled with another wave of tears. I inwardly cursed, not coming up with anymore words, only a sound that could've very well replicated that of a wounded animal. I lifted my arms, letting them slap my legs, "I don't want to hear your stupid excuses, Dean." I said, seeing a wave of hurt tear into his beautiful features, "I don't even want to hear your voice right now." I shook my head, blinking furiously.

My eyes stung as I turned my back to him, and started to walk away, ignoring the fact that I had become lightheaded. Dean had hung back until I was about fifteen feet ahead of him when my face started to tingle and I staggered to the side, lifting a hand to my head, shortly after. Going for another step, my knees gave, feeling the cold bite of the asphalt for a split second until a pair of arms wrapped underneath mine to prevent me from falling full-force.

"Abs," I didn't say anything for a moment, feeling him turn me around placing his hands on my face, "Abigail, are you okay?" Dean asked, urgency lacing his voice as he looked me over.

"I'm fine." I grumbled, pushing him away from me, "Just…just go back to her." I told him, motioning my head to Cassie's house, "At least, she deserves you."

"What?" Dean asked in a soft tone, almost in shock. "Why would you say that?"

I took a shaky a breath, and sighed, "I'm not good enough for you, Dean. I never will."

His brilliant eyes held a source of fear, much like a frightened child. He shook his head, fighting off tears, "Shut up."

I shook my head, "No, Dean. It's true. I'm not good enough for you. I'm just some stupid, fat, hick and I know I'll never meet up to any expectations of yours."

I noticed the muscles in Dean's jaw work, "I said, shut up, Abigail." Blinking, I could've sworn I saw a tear track down his face just then, or was I imagining it? Dean let out a heavy breath, "Not once did I think you weren't good enough for me, Abigail. _Not. Once_." His voice broke, "Do you really see and think of yourself like that?"

I didn't say anything, looking away from him, "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!" Dean shouted. I jumped, staring at him wide-eyed, "If _anyone_ gets to say they don't deserve anything, it's me. I don't deserve you _or_ the baby." He hung his head, "Abigail, if there is anything—and I mean anything—that I look forward to," He looked up at me with sincerity in his eyes, "That is getting to wake up every morning and see you." He licked his lips, "_You_ are the only light I've ever known in this miserable, fucked up existence of mine."

Slowly, Dean stepped forward and I didn't move, "You and my son—_our son,_ Cody Bryant, or whatever douche-y name you come up with, the both of you and Sam are what keeps me stable." He placed his hands on my arms, gripping them in the hidden fear of me possibly leaving, "There is no me, if there ain't no you." In silence, I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

He looked so vulnerable.

His hands slid up from my arms to hold my face in them, "Abs, _please._" I hesitated, then barely nodded, "I swear to you, I didn't—." I silenced him by standing on my tip-toes, holding his face between my hands, and crashed my lips onto his. In no time, the table had turned before he pressed his tongue to the seam of my lips, and at my grant of access, delved inside my mouth. My arms reached up and tangled around his neck, entwining my fingers into his hair where I raked my nails against his scalp.

A deep, throaty groan escaped from him as his hands slid up and down my sides, reaching to the small of my back where he pulled me closer to feel my body against his in a possessive manner. A simple kiss of forgiveness quickly escalated into something more primal. Something that Dean could speak with eloquence. Pulling away, the both of us stared at each other, breathless. Wordlessly, Dean grabbed my hand and pulled me to the Impala, where he grabbed the keys from the ignition and took them out.

I pulled open the door to the backseat where he soon followed, shucking off his jacket in the process, and captured my lips with his again fiercely. I moaned, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt until he was situated on top of me. Goosebumps rose across my body when he pressed his hips against mine, maneuvering light kisses across my cheek and down my neck, halting at my collarbone where a small moan passed my lips when I felt his teeth nip at the sensitive skin. Shucking my leather jacket and hoodie off, I laid back in the seat when Dean pushed my shirt up and over my chest, exposing my stomach and bra as he planted scorching hot kisses along the bulge of the baby bump, making his way up to my chest where he kissed the tops of my breasts tenderly.

Dean peered up at me, eyes glazing over in need, I grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him up to me in another heated kiss. Without hesitating, I slid my hands onto his shoulders where I then pulled his shirt off of him. Those hazel eyes of his twinkled, soon falling upon the casing necklace positioned in the dip of my neck. He dipped his head to kiss me tenderly on my swollen lips before our tongues wrestled, explored, and massaged each other, while at times, our teeth clicked together. His hips were expertly placed against mine, feeling _everything_ of his pressed firmly against me, ready as ever. Dean lifted his body a little ways when I reached down to undo his belt buckle and unzip his jeans, his hand skimming down my stomach to mine; our breathing had become quick bursts that palpitated.

For a good, long while, Dean held me against his chest with a blanket covering us after I had dozed off for I don't know how long. Every window in the Impala was misted over from the humidity inside, it seemed like it was beginning to become daybreak, judging how it looked outside, and it was snowing.

One of Dean's hands stayed at my shoulders, while his other hand drew lazy patterns on the small of my back, occasionally planting soft kisses to my forehead as we laid in silence. Lying on my stomach was beginning to be uncomfortable, so I positioned myself against the back of the seat and laid at an angle, "I'm sorry," I whispered, drawing a meaningless little pattern onto Dean's chest.

He looked down at me, propping a jacket or two under his head, "What for?"

"For being a self-centered, bitch, for starters." I said, continuing the little pattern until Dean's hand grasped mine, stopping it.

"Abs, I can't say that I'm not mad at you." He said, taking his hand to lift my chin up, pressing his lips against mine in a tender kiss, "But I can't say that I blame you for thinking it." He whispered after pulling his lips a breath's away from mine, "I guess I set myself up for failure."

I shook my head, "No, Dean." I sighed, then started smiling, "Remember Chicago?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Which time?" he asked, "We've been there a lot."

"When I got bit by that Black Dog." I answered, knowing he knew what I was talking about.

His arms tightened around me in response, pressing his lips against my head again, "I remember you being stoned off your ass with pain-killers and Dad bein' madder than hell at you."

I laughed, "You were pretty mad yourself."

"I could've kicked your ass for Dad and me, _both_." Dean replied, hearing a smile in his voice, "And I wouldn't trade that day for anything."

Down in the footboard, a cellphone began buzzing as Dean reached down to retrieve his phone, and placed it to his ear, "Yeah." He said. I tilted my head up, peering at him and heard Sam's voice. He sounded urgent.

Dean sat up quickly, "You're kidding!" He looked to me with wide eyes, listening to whatever Sam was saying, "Yeah, we'll be there."

"What happened?" I asked, holding up the blanket to my chest.

Closing his phone, Dean sighed, "The mayor's dead. Ran over."

I gaped in shock, "You're shittin' me." Dean shook his head.

* * *

_**Field—Morning**_

Driving onto the scene, Dean and I got out of the car. Sam was off talking to a cop, who threw us a skeptical look, in which Sam turned.

"They're with me." He said, tucking away some sort of I.D and the cop left. Glancing around the scene, Dean and I approached him, greeting us with a half-smile, "Where were you two last-night? You didn't make it back to the hotel."

Dean glanced to me, "Well…"

The corner of Sam's lips tipped up into a smug look, "I'm guessing you guys worked things out?"

I smirked, patting Sam on the shoulder as I walked by to inspect the area, "We'll be workin' things out when we're ninety. So what happened?"

He sighed, "Every bone crushed. Internal organ's turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, it's like something ran him over."

"Something like a truck?" Dean asked, eyeing the white blanket over the mayor's body.

Sam nodded, "Yep."

I kneeled down to lift up the blanket, "Tracks?" I asked.

"Nope."

Dean joined me, cringing at the sight of him, "What was the Mayor doing here anyway?" He asked, looking up to Sam.

"He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago." Sam explained.

Dean furrowed his brows, "But he's white, he doesn't fit the pattern."

"Killings didn't happen up on the road." Sam stated.

Dean helped me up, "That doesn't fit either." I said before sneezing over to my right. _Oh God, please don't let me get sick now_.

* * *

_**Newspaper Office—Day**_

_**Dean's Point of View**_

Finding myself in the newspaper office, I focused on the job at hand when Cassie poured two mugs of tea and brought them over to where I was at. She held one out, "Here."

I glanced up from the computer screen seeing the cup, "Thanks." I said, taking it from her and setting the cup onto the table. She seemed jittery. More or less uncomfortable from what happened last night. I looked back to the computer screen where several newspaper articles that had been scanned in, "So I'm trying to find some link between those killings back in the '60s and what's going on now. There wasn't a lot about it in the paper."

She huffed, "Not surprising. Probably minimal police work too. Back then equal justice under the law wasn't too literal around here."

My phone rang and I answered it. It was Abigail, "Yeah."

"_Okay, the courthouse records show that Mr. and Mrs. Mayor bought an abandoned property._" She said, "_The previous owner was the Dorian family, for, like a hundred and fifty years._"

"Dorian?" I asked.

"_Yeah_." She replied as I pressed my phone to my shoulder, looking up to Cassie.

"Didn't you say the Dorian family used to own this paper?" I asked her.

Cassie nodded, "Along with everything else around here." She replied, "Real pillars of the town."

"Right, right." I muttered, clicking a few links on the computers, glancing at each one, "That's interesting."

"_What?_" Abigail asked.

"This Cyrus Dorian. He vanished in April of ' case was investigated but never solved. It was right around the time the string of murders was going on back then." I read aloud.

Abigail hummed in thought, the sounds of papers crinkling or being turned over was in the background, "_Well, Sammy and I pulled a bunch of papers up on the Dorian place_," she said, "_it musta been in bad shape when the Mayor bought it_."

I furrowed my brows, "Why's that?"

"_The first thing he did was bulldoze the place_." Sam's voice now said. I glanced back up to Cassie.

"Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?" I asked her.

She nodded, "It was a big deal. One of the oldest houses left. He made the front page."

"Sam, you got a date?" I asked.

"_Uh_," came his reply, "_The 3rd of last month_."

I clicked on another link, reading from the screen aloud, "_Mayor Todd bulldozed the Dorian family home on the 3rd. The first killing was the very next day._"

"_Well, what a cawinky-dink._" Abigail's voice mused from somewhere in the background. They must've had it on speakerphone, "_See you back at the room._" She said, and hung up. I sighed, running a hand through my hair, getting up.

"I gotta tell ya, Cassie, thanks for letting me use the computer." I said, seeing her smile a little.

"No problem." She replied, "So…listen, about what happened last night."

I raised my hand to stop her, "It's fine. It was just a misunderstanding."

Cassie's face sagged, "Yeah…a misunderstanding." She repeated, "I understand now, about _us_. Why we didn't last."

"How's that?"

"Abigail being pregnant," Cassie stated, "The way you look at her. The way she looks at you." She pressed her lips together in a tight line, "Even back then, the way the both of you looked at each other. I knew it had to be something more than just siblings."

I chuckled, putting my hands in my pockets, "Yeah. We're not related, in no way."

An awkward silence fell between us.

"So, you're going to be a dad?" She asked finally.

I chuckled and nodded, "Yeah. I'm, uh, gonna be a dad."

Cassie smiled, folding her arms, "Wow. Dean Winchester. A dad. Never thought I'd see that happen."

"At least, not any time soon." I stated, "But I'm cool with it. It's different."

She smiled, "You must love her very much."

I nodded, "More than anything."

* * *

_**Motel Room—Night**_

_**Abigail's Point of View**_

I sagged back into bed, sniffling. Apparently, when you get a cold while pregnant, you get it _quick_. Dean came in the motel room with Sam following behind him; each man holding a bag, and set it in front of me. I looked down at it, then up at them.

"We found everything a pregnant woman can take for a cold." Dean said proudly, "We're gonna nip this thing in the bud before you get any worse."

I laughed, clearly hearing how stuffed up I was, "I appreciate the gesture boys, I really do." I tried to stand up, only to have Dean set me back down, "Dean, I'm fine."

"No, fine is when you don't look like you've smoked a pound of weed and sound like crap." Dean quipped, "I'm siding with Sam. You being sick is a big deal. We can't take that chance."

I sighed when he kissed my forehead, "What about this case?"

Sam exchanged a glance with Dean, "Well…you could—"

"I'm not stayin' in the hotel." I snapped, narrowing my eyes at them, "_After_ we figure this thing out, I'll do whatever."

"Why the change of heart?" Sam asked with a smirk.

I shrugged, "Cause."

"Cause why?"

I looked to Dean with knitted brows, "Make 'im hush," I whined out as the both of them chuckled in amusement. Dean's phone started buzzing causing the three of us to grow quiet. It wasn't a millisecond when Dean answered, his face paled.

"Cassie, what's going on?" he asked, concerned, "Okay, okay. Hang on. Just calm down, Cassie. We're on our way."

* * *

_**Cassie's House—Night**_

Sam poured Cassie a cup of tea while Dean sat beside her, looking concerned. I stood off to the side with my arms crossed, taking note of how shaken up she really was.

Taking the cup of tea, her hands shook, rattling the cup and she laughed lightly, "Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in that."

Sam sat down across from her and leaned forward, "You didn't see who was driving the truck?"

Cassie proceeded to explain that she'd been in the house when the black truck had appeared out of nowhere and tormented her, following her throughout the house to each window. As far as injury, it didn't harm her. Just shaken her up pretty good. It had only flashed its headlights from high-beam to low-beam and revved its engine. From the sounds of it, _I'd_ be scared of it too, if it had made its appearance in my rearview mirror.

I sat down on the other side of her, placing my hand on her arm in an act of reassurance, earning a bewildered look from her and Dean both, "Whoever was controllin' the truck wants you afraid first." I said.

Sam looked to Cassie's mother, "Mrs. Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died?"

She didn't respond. She was shaking too bad.

Cassie's brows furrowed in worry, "Mom?"

Mrs. Robinson blinked, "Oh." She said, snapping out from her trance-like state, "Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing."

"Well after tonight, I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck." I said, "What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Ok?"

"Your daughter could die." Dean grated, "So if you know something now would be a really good time to tell us about it."

Cassie and I gave him a shocked look, "Dean…" I ushered, glancing to Mrs. Robinson's startled look.

She nodded a moment after, "Yes." She replied, "Yes, he said he saw a truck."

"Did he know who it belonged to?" Sam asked her in a gentle tone.

"He thought he did." She answered, nodding her head.

"Who was that?" Dean asked.

Mrs. Robinson's bottom lips quivered, getting upset, "Cyrus." She said, "A man named Cyrus."

I exchanged a look with Dean before he reached for his bag and showed Mrs. Robinson the newspaper article about Dorian's disappearance, "Is this Cyrus?" he asked her.

Looking at the image, she nodded, "Cyrus Dorian died more than forty years ago."

"How do you know he died, Mrs. Robinson?" I asked softly, "The paper's said he went missin'."

Sam's eyes stayed on Mrs. Robinson, "How do you know he died?"

She took a deep, shaky breath. "We were all very young. I dated Cyrus a while, I was also seeing Martin...in secret of course. Inter-racial couples didn't go over too well back then." She explained, glancing up to Cassie, who was staring at her with wide eyes and listening intently. "When I broke it off with Cyrus and when he found out about Martin, I don't know, he, _changed_. His hatred." Mrs. Robinson shook her head, "His hatred was frightening."

"The murders." Sam deadpanned.

"There were rumors." She continued, sounding deeply upset and fell silent, collecting her thoughts, "People of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done." Her shoulders lifted as she took another deep breath for her confession, "Martin and... Martin and I, we were gunna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn't want the attention."

"And Cyrus?" I asked.

Her face crumpled into tears, "The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died." She began sobbing, causing Cassie to move to her mother in comfort. Dean and I scooted close together.

"Did the attacks stop after that?" Sam asked.

Mrs. Robinson shook her head, "No! There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him."

I leaned back in the couch, realizing that Martin had killed Cyrus, "Why didn't you call the cops?" I asked with a frown.

She looked up at me like I had just done the unspeakable, "This was forty years ago." She replied, hushed and recovered from her sobbing, "He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus' body into the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land and all three of them kept that secret all of these years."

"And now all three are gone." Sam stated contemplatively.

"And so is Mayor Todd." Dean muttered, looking to Mrs. Robinson, "Now he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?"

She smiled, nodding, "He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he...he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done."

Cassie stared at her mother, eyes glittering from unshed tears, "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked softly.

"I thought I was protecting them." Her mother replied, sniffling, "And now there's no one left to protect. "

"Yes there is." I said, Dean and I glancing to Cassie. So did Mrs. Robinson, looking shaken.

* * *

_**Outside—Night**_

Sam and Dean were standing by the Impala while I meandered on the porch, approaching Cassie.

"How you holdin' up?" I asked her, joining her on the banister.

She looked over at me with a small smile, "I'm doing okay."

I nodded, "Good. Good." We sat in silence for a moment, Dean and Sam conversing about something to themselves, Dean glancing to the two of us every now and then, "So…" I began, wringing my fingers, "Uh…I just wanted to apologize…if, I, uh, came out a little bitchy. I just misunderstood things."

"No, Abigail." Cassie said, stopping me, "I should be apologizing to you. I misinterpreted what Dean was saying." I raised a brow at her, a little surprised. "What Dean and I had so long ago, I wanted to believe there was something there." She laughed, "Seeing you standing here with me, _pregnant_ of all things. It solidified a hunch of mine."

I placed my hands on the banisters, tapping my fingers in a fluidic rhythm, "It didn't seem like that when I walked in there." I said with a small frown.

"Perhaps. But, like I said. It was a very, awkward and very wrong misinterpretation." Cassie said, "You didn't see what I saw." I looked at her quietly as she motioned to Dean, "When I tried to kiss him, he didn't want no part of it. The look that was in his eyes when he saw you standing there was like he just lost his whole world."

Her eyes scanned my face and she huffed a laugh, "Abigail, you are as stubborn as him! When I first met you…I didn't really know what to think when I saw you both together. It was awkward at first, you know? There was this, co-dependency thing going on with you two." I slowly nodded, "If one of you made a move, the other made a calculation and adjusted where they stood, or walked." She explained.

"Dean explained to me that you weren't their real sister," Cassie took a breath, "It kind of hit me hard, but then again, it started to make sense. And what was with me and Dean…it was just something I _wanted_ to see, and I wanted it to happen."

Quietly, I looked down at my feet…my belly was beginning to make some progress of covering my feet up. "It's very clear that Dean loves you. I mean, you two are getting ready to have a family." Cassie put her hand on my shoulder as a friendly gesture, "Dean is completely crazy about you, Abigail. Don't let that slip from under you."

I smiled softly at her, "Yeah, I keep gettin' that a lot from different people. It's like a recurrin' thing, apparently." Cassie and I laughed, though in her eyes, there was a mix of emotions that had geared towards sadness.

* * *

_**The Dorian Property—Night**_

Sam stood in water up to his waist, having waded out into the cold water of the lake instead of me. Besides, Dean dared me to even get near it, mumbling something of freaking him out due to the fear of me drowning. Of course, I obliged. I had bad luck with lakes.

My hand on the tow cable I nodded to Dean, "A'ight, let's get her up." I said when Sam joined me. At the wheel of a tractor that was 'borrowed', Dean nodded as he geared the farming equipment into reverse, pulling the truck from the water.

Sam motioned his head, keeping an eye on the dredged truck, "Alright, a little more." He said, "Little more." He held his hand out firmly, "Alright, stop!"

Dean turned off the engine and jumped down to join us. I approached the car, eyeing the beast of a truck with a low whistle.

"1962 Dodge Power Wagon," I complemented, "_Nice._ My daddy woulda killed for this truck." I said with a big grin, looking over to Dean as he moved from the truck to the Impala.

He smiled at me softly at the remembrance of my father, "Hell yeah." He replied.

Sam smirked at us, "Now I know what Abigail sees in you."

Dean laughed from in the trunk, "Gotta love the classics, Sam." I moved to the back of the Impala to join him, "Hold that." He said, handing me a thing of salt. Sam joined us too.

"Alright, what am I getting?"

"Gas, flashlight…" he stated

"Got it, and got it." Sam replied.

Closing the trunk, Dean nodded, "Okay, let's get this done."

"A'ight." I said.

Dean and I moved towards the door of the trunk, throwing a wary glance to each other. Opening the door to the cab, Cyrus's decayed body fell out in front of us in a squishy heap. We all groaned out in disgust.

Then the smell hit us.

_Good, God_.

I took a large step back, coughing and covered my face with my shirt before the coughing turned into gagging. My stomach was shot all to hell since this pregnancy thing. Dean and Sam both looked on with sympathetic eyes when I returned wiping my mouth with the back of my arm, "I can't wait for this shit to go away." I muttered, watching them lay Cyrus's body on a thing of plywood.

"Alright, let's get to it." Dean huffed out. I poured salt all over the body of the late Cyrus Dorian while Sam followed behind, drenching it with gasoline. Lighting a match, Dean dropped it as we all watched it burst into flames.

Dean's arm wound around my shoulders as he pressed a kiss to my temple, "Think that'll do it?" I asked. My answer came soon enough. Floodlights switched on, along with headlights as the monstrous beast of a ghost truck appeared; revving its engine.

"I guess not." Came his reply, stepping away from me, staring at the ghost truck warily.

Sam stared at us with apprehension evident on his face, "So burning the body had no effect on that thing?"

"Sure it did." Dean replied casually, "Now it's really pissed."

"But Cyrus' ghost is gone, right?" Sam asked.

Dean started to walk away, "Apparently not the part that's fused with the truck."

"Where are you goin'?" I asked, getting a little anxious.

"Goin' for a little ride." He replied simply.

"What!" Sam and I questioned in unison. We gave each other a freaked out look.

Dean pointed to the ghost truck, "Gonna lead that thing away." He then pointed to the heaping pile of soaking, mucky metal, "That busted piece of crap, you and Abs gotta burn it."

I splayed my arms out, "How the _hell_ are we s'posed to burn a truck, Dean?"

"I don't know!" He quipped from beside the Impala, "Figure something out!"

Sam caught the bag Dean threw at him, "Figure some—something—!" Dean literally didn't give Sam enough time to fully say what he was going to say. The black form of the Impala jolted backwards in reverse before the squelching sound of tires echoed into the cool night air. Sam grabbed me by the arm, dragging me into the bushes as the truck roared off after Dean in the Impala.

Sam's phone started ringing, "Hey, you gotta give me a minute." Sam told Dean quickly, "Ahh. Let me get back to you." He said, hanging up shortly. We stared at each other, absolutely in the dark. I extended my hand.

"Give me your phone." I said.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"Because mine's in the floorboard of the Impala!" I said, raising my voice, getting freaked out even more. I dialed a number and put the phone to my ear, "Hey Cassie? Hey, it's Abigail, I need some information and it _has_ to be exactly right." I said, then put the phone to my shoulder, "Grab the map and a pen."

Sam nodded, doing as he was told and I repeated everything to him exactly as Cassie told me. With a quick thanks, I hung up the phone and handed it back to Sam, "Call Dean and direct him."

"Alright, Dean?" Sam said quickly, looking over the map. "Where are you?" Dean shouted something over the phone causing Sam to roll his eyes at his brother, "Listen to me, this is important. I have to know exactly where you are." Sam nodded, looking at me, "He's at Decatur Road."

I nodded, tracing the road with my finger, "Headed East?"

"Okay, headed East?" Sam asked him, then cringed at something. I frowned, trying to stop myself from trembling. I tapped a road quickly, "Okay, uhhh, turn right!" He said quickly, "Up ahead, turn right."

"Did he make the turn?" I asked.

"Abigail wants to know if you made the turn." Sam said. After a second, he nodded. I held out my hand and he gave me the phone.

"Dean." I said, "You see a road up ahead?"

"No!" Dean exclaimed, "Wait. No, _yes_, I see it!"

I nodded, trailing up the map again, "Okay, turn left."

"_Wha._..?" Came his reply. I waited, "_Alright, now what?_"

"You need to go seven tenths of a mile, then stop." I said.

"_Stop?_" He asked.

"_Exactly_ seven tenths, Dean." I replied with urgency, hearing him mutter 'Seven tenths' over and over. I didn't hear anything after that. My hand was trembling at a little circle, "Dean." I stated, upon hearing nothing I bit my lip, "_Babe_, you still there?"

I heard him blow out a sigh, "Yeah."

Sam looked at me intently, his hands clenching and unclenching, "What's happening."

I held a finger, "Dean, what's goin' on?"

"_It's just staring at me, what do I do?_" He asked.

I swallowed, "Just what you are doin', bringin' it to ya."

"_Wha..._" Dean asked uneasily. I heard the engine of the truck roar. I crossed my fingers, putting Sam's phone on speakerphone, setting it on the map, "_Come on. Come on_." Dean grated out, loudly. Then there was silence again. I looked to Sam, scared.

"Dean." Sam stated, "You still there? Dean?"

"_Where'd it go?_" Dean asked, sounding shocked.

I blew out a sigh, leaning my head against Sam's arm, "Dean, you're where the church was."

"_What church_!" He exclaimed.

Sam sighed, "The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids."

"_There's not a whole lot left._" Dean responded, observing the scene probably.

"That's cause church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not." I said, "Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed."

"So Abigail and I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it."

Silence again. Sam and I looked at each other.

"_Maybe?_" Dean exclaimed, making it apparent that his temper was rising rather quickly. We winced at how loud he was, "_Maybe?! What if you two were wrong?!_"

I blinked, "Huh. Honestly that though hadn't occurred to me." I said. Sam pursed his lips, debating whether to be amused or freaked out.

"_Abs! __You're fucking crazy!_" Dean exclaimed from the speakerphone, "_What if it didn't work?!_"

"What? What was that?" I asked, "I couldn't hear you." I said picking up the phone. Just as he started in again, I flipped the phone shut, looking to Sam calmly, "Tunnel."

Sam grinned, pulling me into a tight hug, "You're an absolute madman!"

I grinned back at him, giving Sam an honest to goodness, witchy cackle, "But did he die?" I asked with a twinkle in my eye, delivering a hefty swat to his shoulder. We both laughed as we waited on Dean to come back. Quite possibly to kill us both.

* * *

**Chapter 15 is out! Which _meeaaannns_, 9 more chapters until the Season Finale! Say _whaaaat? _**

**And lemme tell you, it will punch ya'll in the feels. ****I done went ahead and wrote it out, but don't worry though! I'll go back through it until it is perfection!**

* * *

**I think I made myself tear up a little while writing this chapter because I kept having to imagine how and what Dean and Abigail would do, and how they would approach this as a couple. I even had to act it out (I dunno if any of you guys who write fan-fictions do that too, but I do)! Anyways, I feel that it is more effective to write out a chapter!**

** I think one thing many might notice, is that Abigail is a very forgiving person (whenever she calms down).**

**And can we talk about that moment with Dean and Abigail? Cuteness! -internally screams-**

**This chapter had me on an emotional roller coaster, but as this story progresses, I feel like it's just gonna go in a downward spiral. So be warned!  
**

* * *

**ALSO. Since this is gonna be canon, I figured many of you have asked yourself this question. **

**"What happened in New Orleans?", "What happen in Chicago?", "What happened in Michigan?", etc. etc.**

**I love filler chapters. I think people should read them in order to understand the backstory of the characters. Especially one on the magnitude of Dean and Abigail. SO, I'm planning on doing a whole 'nother series that basically goes in depth on their relationship, as well as some brother/sister bonding between Abigail and Sam.**

**Though, I just want to put this out there, that it may have to wait until _after_ Bad Company (Season 1) is complete and before I start on the second installment.  
**

**Lemme know what ya'll think! Yay or nay?**

* * *

**I also want to thank you guys-the readers. I seriously enjoy reading ya'll's reviews, they make me smile and therefore, makes my heart smile. I couldn't ask for any better people! c:**

**Ladysunshine6\- Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are a big help! I can't thank you enough for your contribution to _Bad Company_. You have given some great advice, inspired me to write more by providing many great ideas, and I seriously can't tell you how much I appreciate it! **

**SassyGrl23\- Thank you! I think we'd all die of a broken heart if that would ever happen! Good thing Dean loves Abigail too much to do something like that, huh? c;**

**ebonywarrior85\- Thank you! If you liked how caring he was in the previous chapters, I'm sure you went 'aww' a couple of times in this one!**

**angelicedg-Thank you so much for your kind words! I promise I will have the next update out as soon as I can!**

**Guest\- Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying _Bad Company_! I hope to see you around more! Feel free to leave a screen name next time so I know who you are! c:**

* * *

**I'd also like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. I just borrowed them. Much like I borrowed, "There ain't no me, if there ain't no you." from S9:E1 and "It makes me all frisky when you take control like that, Sammy." from S3:E11  
I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

**REMIND ME OF THESE THINGS. D: **

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles!**


	17. Nightmare

_**Disclaimer:**_**I do not own _Supernatural_, I just own Abigail and any non-canon-y things. Also, I would like to send a shoutout to _Ladysunshine6_ for lending me a helping hand with this chapter and for future chapters. This girl is seriously amazing at lending great ideas and is great to talk to about future chapters. She's a genius basically. c:**

**_Warning: _There is smut in this chapter two different times. Like always, if you don't like it, please just skip!  
**

* * *

_**May 9**__**th**__**, 2006**_

_**Charleston, West Virginia**_

_**CAMC Memorial Hospital—Women and Children's Center**_

I waited patiently in the exam room by myself; Sam and Dean stayed out in the waiting room for whatever reason. Which was fine, considering the second rounds of pelvic exams, blood testing (to which, Dean stayed for that), and some other testing that I didn't really know much about. The only thing that worried me was the off-putting looks Dr. Sahkai gave me when she pressed on my abdomen.

I gave her a wary and very worried look, "What is it?"

Dr. Sahkai smiled gently at me, "I'm considering squeezing you in for another ultrasound, to see how the baby is doing."

I frowned, "That doesn't sound very comfortin' to be honest…is he going to be alright?"

"From the looks of everything external, you are healthy and the baby is healthy. Nothing to worry about." She replied, glancing down to her clipboard through her glasses, "We might need to reconsider your due-date however."

"Why?" I asked, wishing Dean was in here with me.

"Well, due-dates are just estimates. Whenever you came in for your first check-up, the baby measured correctly…but judging how well you are showing visibly, I just want to make sure that the baby is developing nicely and we are on schedule." She explained. I nodded slowly, biting my bottom lip with uncertainty creasing my forehead.

Well, that was okay news…if anything. I'm surprised I was gray headed yet from all this worrying and stress. When the doctor left, I got up from the table and cleaned myself up before padding over to my clothes. I pulled out my cellphone, pulling up my text messages and sent Dean one saying, _Come in here._

I tugged on my jeans, that I was still too stubborn to admit I was getting too big for, then my boots just as Dean came through the door, looking alarmed, "What is it?" he asked.

Straightening up, I rubbed the right side of my stomach where I assumed Cody Bryant was nestled, "I think they're gonna do another ultrasound."

He furrowed his brows, emerald orbs falling to my stomach, "Why? Is something wrong?"

I shrugged, "Apparently there's a change in the due date."

Dean's face paled a little, "Really? Do you know when?"

"You know just about as much as I do." I quipped, running my hands through my hair with a frustrated sigh when Sabrina came in with a pleasant smile to the both of us.

"Oh, I see daddy is in here." Sabrina greeted us, "Your room is ready." She said as we threw each other anxious looks. _That was quick_, I thought to myself as we followed her into the same dark, cramped room with the ultrasound machine and television screen up on the wall. My heart fluttered in my chest with eagerness to see my unborn child as I looked over to Dean, who looked at me with a mix of emotions. If I had to pick one of the major ones, it would have to be concern.

"Lay down and lift up your shirt like last time," Sabrina instructed as she took a seat and Dean took a seat on either side of me. I sighed doing so, before Sabrina tucked a large napkin into my pants and jumped when she squirted some of the jelly on my stomach. _Always freaking cold, now I have to pee._ I grumbled in my head as the familiar black and white image popped up on the screen and loud static roared over the speakers before Sabrina's hand went over to my right side where Cody Bryant was nestled. Instead of a little blob, there was a tiny human with a head, arms, hands, legs, and believe it or not, toes.

I watched between the screen and Sabrina as she took measurements of the baby then looked to the screen when she typed in 15 weeks 0 days and my mouth dropped, "I thought I was just like eleven or twelve weeks."

Sabrina smiled, "Well, your little one looks like he or she's further along than what we thought. We may even have a chance to see what it'll be."

Dean sat in his chair fixated on the screen in utter shock and awe with a look on his face as if he were about to ask, '_Is this real?'_ "So, uh, fifteen weeks." He said.

Sabrina nodded, "Yup. Nearly halfway there." She looked to us both, "So, do you want to find out the gender?"

We looked at each other quietly, almost unsure of what to do. I would've liked to have known, but I felt like it'd be better if it was a surprise. As if Dean had read my thoughts, his hand reached out for mine as he pursed his lips with a smirk tilting them up and shook his head, "Be more fun if it was a surprise."

* * *

_**May 9**__**th**__**, 2006**_

_**Charleston, West Virginia**_

_**Charlie's House—Night**_

_I was somewhere iIn a room kneeling next to a middle-aged woman with a bleeding forehead. She had blonde hair that reach the tops of her shoulders, a white shirt, and a gray embroidered cardigan as the door nearby creaked open and a boy walked in, looking perturbed about something._

_I stood up and moved towards the boy as the door closed behind him—without him touching it—as I placed myself between him and the woman. A brute force sent me flying backwards into a nearby wall and crashed into it with a pained grunt, my arms wrapped around my growing middle, protectively as the woman stared at the boy in shock._

"_Max!" she pleaded as the boy, Max, raised my pistol, his hand shaking as I slowly rose to my feet._

"_Son of a..." I breathed out, freezing when I saw my gun pointing at me. I approached Max warily eyeing him and my weapon, only to stop when Max let go of the gun, leaving it suspended in mid-air. My breath hitched in my throat as it cocked, turning to point at the woman. Protective of this unknown woman, I stepped in the gun's way._

"_Stay back." Max breathed out, eyes red from excessively crying, "This is not about you."_

_I swallowed down a knot, "You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first."_

_The gun swerved to me, "Okay." Max replied._

_There was a gunshot. Numbly I blinked, looking down to see blood spreading from my stomach. As I looked back up at him, there stood the Yellow-Eyed creature that tormented me behind Max; a wicked grin was on his face._

"_I told you, Abby-girl." He stated, before another shot resounded and it went black._

"Guys. Guys." Sam's voice spoke with urgency, tearing me away from what seemed to have been my death. I jerked awake at his touch, breathing heavily and looking around my surroundings as a wave of nausea slammed into me from the shock of the nightmare.

Beside me, Dean grunted tiredly rubbing his eyes, "What are you doing man? It's the middle of the night." He raised himself on his elbows before he planted a gentle kiss on my shoulder.

"We have to go." Sam stated with impatience coating his voice.

Dean looked at his brother alerted, but not alarmed, "What's happening?"

"We have to go. Right now." Sam said again before he left our room, leaving us mildly confused.

Instead of getting up, Dean flopped back onto his pillow rubbing his face with his hands, "I'm gonna kill him." I didn't say anything, merely nodding and hummed in agreement. I was nowhere near being in a light-hearted mood until a hand found its way to my stomach in one fluid motion, causing me to look down at the gorgeous man lying beside me.

"One more minute before bossy-pants comes back?" he asked, hazel orbs imploring mine to lay back down with him. Complying with his wish, I slid back under the covers where Dean pulled me against his bare chest and he inhaled deeply, before stroking the side of my face, "Let me guess. Nightmare?" he asked.

My heart started to hammer against my chest like heated iron, "Yeah."

His eyes searched mine, "You wanna talk about it?" I fell silent. Unsure of what to even say. Quietly, I bit my lip and slid my hand up his chest until I found his amulet, shaking my head as I gazed up at him, feeling the prick of tears. "That bad, huh?" he asked.

I swallowed, nodding my head slowly when Dean kissed me tenderly on the lips in a silent reassurance, moving his hands from my face down to my sides. I shivered from the light touch, deepening our kiss until I had gone dizzy and breathless, earning a cheeky smile from Dean as we parted ways. "Better?" I nodded, laughing lightly as he grinned at me, planting another kiss on my lips quickly before rolling out of bed with a grunt, "Good. Cause, I would've hated to have brought out the big guns."

I sat up, arching my brow at him, "Oh?"

He nodded with raised brows, "Yeah. Big, big guns."

I snorted, climbing out of bed and bent over to get what clothes I had stripped off myself during the night, "I'm sure." I replied, straightening up and padded over to Dean's side where I tossed my clothes in the bag when Dean reached out and grabbed me from behind. I snorted with laughter when he pressed his lips against my skin blew down eliciting a series of rather loud raspberries along my neck and shoulders before I jumped away, smiling at him, "Oh my God, you're such a dork."

He snorted at me, "Well this _dork_ just got you to laugh."

"That you did, that you did." I commended him as he pulled a shirt on. I scratched my stomach, feeling the twirling sensation of my son or daughter do whatever he or she was doing inside of me. "I can't wait for you to be able to feel what I feel." I blurted suddenly, seeing Dean turn to look at me confused, then his eyes fell to my stomach and his face softened. He approached me, placing his hands onto either side of my small bump.

"What's he doing?" he asked, awe-inspired.

I shrugged, placing his hand over to the left side this time, "Flip-floppin', doing judo or somethin'. He's been exposed to your cheesy karate movies." I jested, seeing Dean purse his lips at me.

"Bruce Lee is not cheesy." He countered.

"Who got his ass kicked, and killed mind you, by Chuck Norris." I stated, _knowing_ I had gotten him riled up.

He blinked, stepping back, "I'm goin' to pretend I didn't hear that from you." I laughed, finding one of his shirts and pulled it over my head, before tugging my pants on and finally my converses, in which, I concluded everything by kissing him on the lips.

"Better?" I asked watching Dean's eyes wander around the room, "If I get you pie, will that be enough?"

He looked down at me, "Apple."

"Of course." I smiled.

We had said our good-byes to Charlie and we pulled down the drive going up to Michigan. Four hours had passed slowly, Sam looked like he had seen the most awful thing due to his constant fidgeting. I pursed my lips at him as he sat in his own little world staring down at a license plate number, _Obviously not too bad as it was for me._ I mused, leaning forward in my seat to lace one arm on his left side and leaned forward to rest my chin on the back of the seat as I ran my finger through Dean's hair. I watched his eyes slide close from whatever sensation he was receiving and visibly shivered, eliciting a low groan. His eyes snapped open, glancing over to Sam and wiggled away from my hands. I laughed softly in his ear, "What do you think?"

"I think we should be in bed, _asleep_." Came his tired reply, throwing Sam another glance as he flexed his hands on the steering wheel, "I think this is bogus." He muttered when Sam started speaking on his cellphone.

"McReady. Detective McReady. Badge number 158." Sam read off from a Michigan police badge, "I've got a signal 480 in progress, I need the registered owner of a two door sedan, Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven. Yeah ok, just hurry."

Dean looked over to Sam tired, though concerned for his brother, "Sammy relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare."

"Yeah, tell me about it." He agreed after huffing out a haughty breath, obviously freaked out from whatever it was he dreamt of.

"I mean it." Dean said, "Y'know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see."

"It felt different, Dean. Real." Sam implored, "Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Jessica."

Dean's head tilted, "Yeah that makes sense. You're dreaming about our house, your girlfriend."

I bit my lip, "This guy in your dream, you ever seen him before?" I asked, seeing Dean look at me from the corner of his eyes as Sam turned to look at me.

"No." He replied.

"No. Exactly." Dean said in reassurance, "Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan."

"I don't know." Sam confessed, appearing to calm down slightly.

"Me neither." Dean replied, looking back to the road.

"Yes, I'm here." Sam said suddenly into the phone, before shooting Dean a glare, then picked up his pen, "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address?" he asked, then scribbled down something quickly, "Got it. Thanks." Sam hung up his phone, looking to Dean with a matter of fact expression on his face other than the bitchface he usually donned, "Checks out." He stated, "How far are we?"

"From Saginaw? Coupla hours." Dean replied.

Sam nodded, "Drive faster." Dean stared at Sam for a moment before shaking his head at him. I situated myself in the backseat with a huff, not bothering to try and go back to sleep. Judging from Dean's gaze in the rearview mirror, he must've expected as much. He knew my moment of happiness had dwindled away a couple of hours into the drive. Hell, he knew as soon as Sam woke us up.

* * *

_**Saginaw, Michigan**_

_**Jim Miller's House—Night **_

Upon seeing emergency vehicles and someone being zipped into a body bag, the three of us sat in silence; Dean looking overly concerned by the corner of his lips twitching, Sam upset, and me somewhere in between both. It was honestly a toss-up between the two. Exiting the car, Dean and I approached the watching crowd, stopping beside a female onlooker.

"What happened?" Dean asked her.

She leaned to us, "Suicide." She replied, "Can't believe it."

"Did you know them?" I asked.

"Saw him in every Sunday at St Augustine's." She replied, "He always seems...seemed, so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."

We glanced at each other, noticing Sam standing on the other side of her, "Guess not." He said.

"How did, uh." Sam had to correct himself, "How are they saying it happened?"

"I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running." She said, giving Sam a knowing look.

"Do you know about what time they found him?" Sam asked her.

She shrugged, "Oh it just happened about an hour or two ago. His poor family." The woman sighed, "I can't even imagine what they're going through." We looked over to see a woman standing on the front step of the house, crying and leaning against a middle aged man. A young man stood behind them, looking distraught. That was when a rise of fear drilled through me, directly into the core of my very being.

That was the same woman…and that Max. My breathing became rapid and in short bursts, feeling my face drain itself of color. It felt like I had been punched in the gut by an unseen force when the echoes of gunshots were still ringing in my head. I spun around quickly, more or less running back to the Impala when Sam had turned, clearly troubled and upset about another premonition coming true. If his had come true…then mine was _surely _going to come true. I was going to die. Me and my baby both.

Dean had noticed our hasty retreat and followed us back, only to lean against the Impala's bonnet, "Sam, we got here as fast as we could."

Sam turned, while I kept my back turned with the corner of my thumb in my mouth and back towards the house, "Not fast enough." He shook his head, causing his shaggy hair to cover his eyes slightly, "It doesn't make any sense man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?"

Dean shrugged, seemingly at a loss of words, "I dunno."

Sam shook his head and sighed, the sound of his boots scraping against the ground as he turned, "So what do you think killed him? Did you feel anything, get any hits?" I chewed on my thumb, oblivious to the fact that the questions where directed to me, "Abigail?"

I jumped, turning to face my brothers with a deer caught in headlights expression on my face. I glanced to Sam and Dean, "Yeah?"

Sam and Dean exchanged a look before he scrunched his face, "Did you hear anything I said?"

I pulled my thumb out from between my teeth, and spit out the piece of skin I managed to chew off, "Uh. Yeah, yeah." I nodded quickly, though totally lying. Dean's eyes raked over me with an intense stare before he rounded the Impala to where I stood.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a low rumbling voice.

I swallowed, shoving down the overwhelming feeling of terror and despair that resided in me so that I could strain a smile, "Nothing. I-I'm fine. I just…I just don't feel good." I said quickly, placing my hand against my forehead. Dean glanced to the house and back at me with a disbelieving look in his eyes, "Really, Dean. I just didn't take my Zofran." His hand dropped from my elbows, "What was your question again, Sammy?" I asked, looking to him with an apologetic look.

"What do you think killed him?" Sam asked again, looking equally concerned for me, "Did you get any hits or feel anything?"

I glanced back at the house, trying to not look at the weeping woman or the distraught Max. I knew it was something with him. Instead of hitting the nail in the head with Max, I shook my head, "Maybe the guy just killed himself?" I blurted out instead, "Maybe there's nothin' supernatural goin' on at all." _Fuck._

Sam looked genuinely wounded by my saying. He shook his head, "I'm telling you guys, I watched it happen." He stated firmly, "He was murdered by something, Dean." Sam said to Dean, trying to sway his brother's mind, "I watched it trap him in the garage."

"What was it, a spirit, poltergeist, what?" Dean asked, "If Abs didn't pick up on something, then it mustn't be something in our book."

"I don't know what it was." Sam said pointedly, starting to get worked up, "I don't know why I'm having these dreams, I don't know what the hell is happening." I couldn't look at Sam. I just couldn't. I stood by him on everything he said. There was a case here. A huge one and a deadly one at that.

"What?" Sam suddenly asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

Dean shrugged, "Nothing. I'm just, I'm worried about you two."

Sam's face scrunched like he was fed up, "Well, don't look at me like that!"

Dean looked away, "I'm not looking at you like anything." He glanced back at him with a smirk, "Though I gotta say, you do look like crap."

Sam's lips tipped up into a smirk as he scoffed, "Nice. Thanks."

Dean grinned, moving to open the car door, "Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning." He said, "We'll check out the house, talk to the family."

"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated." I said, trying to sway him, "They're not going to want to talk to us."

He paused, rubbing his chin, "Yeah you're right." He said thoughtfully, "But I think I know who they will talk to."

Sam furrowed his brows, "Who?"

Dean looked to me and Sam followed. I shifted uncomfortably under their stares.

"What?" I asked.

Dean only replied with a smirk.

This wasn't good.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Morning**_

I sat on the edge of the bed with my legs crossed, watching Dean straighten up his collar, "I gotta say Dean, this is a new low for us." I tilted my head, "Well, for you and Sammy."

He turned to smirk at me, "You'd be doing the same too, sister."

"Yeah, except," I got up to flatten the waistline of the navy blue, floral print dress I had on, "I wouldn't be very sisterly bein' pregnant and all." I rolled my eyes, running my fingers delicately through the cascading, neat curls I had manipulated my hair into when he approached me, placing his hands on my hips. To be honest, this getup just _had_ to be illegal on him. If it wasn't, then it was pretty damn close to bein' it.

"It would've covered you up, just fine." He breathed out in a husky voice, dragging his lips against the skin of my neck as his left hand cradled the side of my face when I tilted my head to the side, exposing more of my neck as his right hand remained on my hip, sliding to the small of my back and pulled me closer to his body. A soft sound that had to be something between a sigh and mewl emitted from my mouth when Dean dragged his tongue a little ways before he clamped down with a firm bite, "Which one would you be, sister?" he asked with a wickedly sinful glint in his eyes and smile as we swayed backwards to the bed, "A good nun or a naughty nun?"

I couldn't speak from how hot this was actually becoming, _I need to thank him later for sticking to his guns on this separate room_. "Both." I breathed out, sliding my hands up his chest until I wound my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his hair, raking my nails against his scalp with some pressure behind it. Dean hissed out a ragged breath through clenched teeth, placing his forehead against mine capturing my lips in a fierce kiss. I felt his hand slide down to my outer thigh and curl his fingers, bunching up the skirt of my dress.

Dean broke our kiss, his lips red and smeared from the ruby red lipstick I had on, "Which one are you now?" he asked, eyes dilated and blazing from need.

"Good nun," I breathed out, before grabbing the front of his robes and directed him backwards this time until he was up against the wall with a 'possum grin, tipping his head to capture my lips again. I pulled back away with a wicked smirk, slowly sinking down into a crouch since I was in high heels. He looked so confused for a split second when it had dawned on him what I was going to do. He reached to push his robes out of the way only to have me swat his hands away, "No touching." I ordered, seeing him ball his hands into fists then flex them like he wanted to touch. Slowly I parted his robes, reaching for his belt to his pants and unbuckled it, throwing up a wicked look to him and very deliberately, bit my lip watching Dean's eyes widen with anticipation. He placed his hands behind his head to prevent himself from touching me as I unzipped his pants, lowering them until I could lower the hem of his underwear in order to pull his erection free.

"Which one are you now?" Dean asked in a shaky voice.

I said nothing, enveloping my hand around him in a ghost touch where he thumped his head against his hands, "Bad nun." I replied finally, pressing a delicate kiss to his head.

Dean closed his eyes, hearing his breath hitch in his throat when I gripped him tighter and slid my hand up and down his length. When Dean opened them again, they were a molten emerald green, "Oh God, bad nun." He flexed his hips under my grasp with a low groan, allowing his mouth to fall open when his breathing increased, closing his eyes again with pleasure.

I smirked, leaning forward while his eyes were closed, and encased my lips around him; tentatively sucking, eliciting another groan and flex of his hips, "Oh God, bad nun." Dean had groaned out when I took his length deeper into my mouth. I moved my head back until the head of his erection was at my lips, letting my tongue flick along his slit. "Oh sweet mother Mary and Joseph." He breathed out, looking back down at me with a slack jaw and grinned, leaning his head back against his hands with a loud breathy sigh. _He was eating this up!_ I drug my teeth across him when I had moved forward and back, twirling the head in my mouth. I had gotten into a steady rhythm that was often accompanied by Dean making incoherent mumbling and gasps, and occasionally an 'Oh God'.

Dean looked like he was about to burst by the time there was a knock at the door. He stilled, eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights, careening his head to the door. It had to have been Sam. He looked down at me, "Don't stop."

I smirked while he was still in my mouth and pulled away with an audible _pop!_ As I straightened up, pressing my body against his, "Don't bless me Father, for I have sinned." I told him in a husky voice and headed for the door. Dean blinked in utter shock, then looked down at himself.

"Don't open that door!" He hissed out, grabbing his pants and underwear and pulled them up quickly, fumbling with his buckle, "Sonofabitch!" Instead of fixing himself in the room, he ran into the bathroom out of sight. I laughed wiping around my mouth quickly and opened the door, seeing Sam standing outside already dressed; his hair slicked back. He looked so cute and it suited him.

"Hey Sammy." I greeted him, stepping aside to let him in.

"Hey, Abby." Sam greeted me with a hug, "You guys ready?"

I smiled brightly to him as if nothing had happened, "I am, but I think short bus is still primpin'."

Sam chuckled as Dean came out of the bathroom shortly after, everything in order. All except for the flustered and bothered expression on his face. Sam looked back at me with raised brows and I looked back at him with an innocent look, shrugging, "What did you do to him?"

Dean squared his shoulders, "She violated me, Sam." He looked at me with a pout, "_Violated_."

I shrugged, "You asked for it, _Father_."

Sam scrunched his face in a look of total disgust, "Ugh, guys. Don't say anymore." I laughed, patting him on the shoulder, pulling out my lipstick and reapplied it, puckering my lips at Dean and winked. Dean pouted, shifting uncomfortably in his spot, "Let's just go."

Sam was the first out of the door shortly after the mental discovery of what Dean was implying to what I had done to him. Dean came up behind me, pressing his lips to my ear, "You are so getting it later." He grumbled as we walked out of the motel room and got in the Impala.

* * *

_**Miller House—Day**_

Dean reached out to the doorbell as Sam and I stood on either side of them.

"I don't see why you two couldn't just do this alone." I muttered, earning smirk from Dean before he looked back at the door. The man that was comforting the woman on the steps the night before answered, looking at us skeptically.

"Good Afternoon. I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Frehley, and Sister Tessa Thayer." Dean introduced us to him, "We're new junior priests over at St Augustine's, and Sister Thayer is our grief counsellor. May we come in?"

Silent, the man nodded, stepping aside to let us in. Dean threw him a courteous smile as he entered, "Thanks."

"We're very sorry for your loss." Sam said as he passed him.

Dean looked to the other people within the house before turning to the man, "It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed."

"Look, you wanna pitch your whole 'Lord has a plan' thing? Fine. Just don't pitch it to me. My brother's dead." The man told us, looking unimpressed. I blinked in astonishment, pressing my lips together as the woman, Jim Miller's widow, I had protected in my nightmare appeared with an appalled look on her face.

"Roger. Please!" She reprimanded him, aghast.

He looked at her apologetically and moved away, "Excuse me."

Ms. Miller looked to us apologetically, "I'm sorry about my brother in law. He's...he's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?" She asked shakily.

I smiled at her, feeling uneasy, "That would be great."

Dean and I had taken the couch, Sam had taken a seat in an armchair while Ms. Miller poured coffee into four cups before handing them out to us.

"It was wonderful of you to stop by." She told us, "The support of the church means so much right now."

"Of course. After all we are all God's children." Dean replied reverently, eyeing the plate of cocktail sausages before she walked away with the coffee pot in tow. Immediately, his hand reached out taking a couple of sausages from the table, cramming them into his mouth as he began to chew contentedly, looking over to Sam and I as we shook our heads.

"What?" he asked, muffled from the food.

"Just...tone it down a little bit, _Father._" I said, crossing my legs and straightened up upon Mrs. Miller's return. Dean threw me a dirty look and continued to chew.

"So, Mrs. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?" I asked her gently, starting the conversation.

"Nothing like that." Mrs. Miller spoke softly, beginning to be upset, "We had our ups and downs like everyone, but we were happy." She said looking over to Sam and started to cry, "I just don't understand...how Jim could do something like this?"

Sam looked to her sadly, struggling with his guilt for not getting to him in time, "I'm so sorry you had to find him like that."

Mrs. Miller gestured behind her, "Actually, our son Max," I stiffened, "He was the one who found him."

Sam and I looked through the doors into the dining room to see Max sitting in the corner, staring off into space, Sam looked at Mrs. Miller, "Do you mind if maybe, we go talk to him?" He asked, motioning to me and him. I clenched my jaw, stiffening more that I had to go near him as Dean shot Sam a curious look.

"Oh, thank you Father." Mrs. Miller said, grateful as Sam and I got up to speak with him, leaving Dean behind to counsel the widow. With each step that I took near Max, I could hear him saying _"Okay." _Then two gunshotswould echo in my mind as we approached him. My insides seemed to have coiled up like a spring getting ready to break when we stopped in front of him, Sam beginning the introductions.

Sam pulled me a chair over so that I could sit. I threw him a tight-lipped smile of thanks, keeping a distance away from Max; glancing around the room for any objects, I inhaled, "So, Max," I began, seeing his eyes focus on me and paled as if he recognized me from underneath his sickly appearance, "What was your Dad like?"

He looked me up and down before looking away quickly, "Just a normal Dad." He replied, putting his head against the wall like he done when we first approached him.

"Yeah. You live at home now?" Sam asked.

Max nodded, "Yeah. Trying to save up for school but it's hard."

"So when you found your dad..." Sam prompted, trying to spur a conversation.

"I woke up, I heard the engine running." He glanced at me quickly in his long pause, "I don't know why he did it. "

I swallowed, catching every look he threw me, "I know it's rough, losing a parent." I spoke softly, "Especially when you don't have all the answers." Sam nodded in agreement. Something about him was just off. Hell, everything about him was off. I wanted to leave for the safety of myself and my child's with every alarm blaring loudly. I looked over to Sam, placing my hand on his arm, "Excuse me, Father." I glanced to Max, "Max. Um, I'm going to speak with Father Simmons, perhaps ever use the bathroom." Max pointed towards the stairs and I nodded in thanks, leaving the room a little too quickly and climbed the stairs, passing by Dean and Mrs. Miller with a gentle smile.

I found the bathroom easily, closing the door and locking it before I slid down the door, sitting on the cold tiled floor, running my hands through my hair. I shut my eyes to prevent tears from spilling out, hearing the end of my nightmare end on replay over and over again. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, placing my head against my knees, silently crying and praying for some sort of protection. The quiet hum of voices that had accompanied me at all times seemed to have increased in volume until it was a shrill ringing in my ears. I covered them, knowing that it was futile to do so.

This whole job had me jacked up, jumping when someone knocked on the door. Wiping my tears quickly, I got up in a rush, becoming light-headed and fixed myself, "One second!" I said loud enough for whoever was on the other side to hear me.

"Abs!" It was Dean, "Open up."

_Shit._ I wiped the smudged makeup under my eyes away and took a deep breath, unlocking the door to see Dean holding his infrared thermal scanner in his hand, "You okay?" He asked, looking me up and down.

I nodded, "Yeah. Of course, pregnant remember?"

He furrowed his brows with concern, "Yeah. I know. You just seemed like you were spooked about somethin'. Figured I'd check things out while I was 'going to the bathroom to check on Sister Tessa'."

I smiled at him, "Well, I'm fine now, _Father_." He pursed his lips, looking at me through his lashes. Dean shifted, glancing over his shoulder quickly before pushing me back into the bathroom and closed it behind him, "Dean, what're you—?" I hissed out, only to have him crush his lips over mine and directed me to the sink. I broke the kiss, bewildered, "Dean, we can't do this here."

He smirked, "It won't take long, five minutes tops." I bit my lip, glancing to the door, considering it until Dean hoisted me onto the cold countertop, pushing my skirt up and unbuckled his pants quickly with one hand. Upon freeing himself, he wasted no time pushing my underwear inside, and pushed himself into me until I had to bite my lip. Dean wrapped his arms around me tightly when he worked himself into a quick, steady rhythm.

This felt _so_ wrong to do this, then again, anything we did was generally frowned upon. I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder, listening to his quick breaths and an occasional grunt, sliding his hand across my leg, down my thigh, and to my clit where his thumb flicked it with expertise. My entire body shuddered, wracked with mind-numbing pleasure as he continued his ministrations, sending me further up into wild bliss. I never thought in my life that I would have to keep myself quiet, and let me tell you, it was hard to do.

I was so high, reaching cloud nine in the matter of moment and dug my nails into his clothed back, panting at the familiar feeling of release inching its way closer, "Just a little more," I spoke hoarsely, and felt Dean hold me closer against him. _Wait…is he?_ _No!_ I shouted in my head when Dean's hands went to my hips and he pulled back to where his hips were firmly planted against mine, slack jawed and staring at me with a devilish glint in his eyes. _No, no, no!_

"Oh, I'm sorry, _Sister_. That was rude of me." Dean quipped, blowing out as slowly as he could in order to catch his breath. His tongue darted out to dampen his lips, "Right back at ya, short bus." I stared at him, wide-eyed and still buzzing with ecstasy, just _a hair_ from release as Dean looked _so_ proud of himself for getting back at me. That salacious glint in his eyes fit so perfectly with the smug look on his face as he stepped back, fixing his suit and collar and shifted his shoulders with a grin.

I blew out a long breath, rattling my brain for a quick comeback, "If you're gonna try be a smartass, first you have to be smart. Otherwise you're just an ass." I quipped, slowly straightening myself up. Dean furrowed his brows at me.

"You're the…ass." He mumbled, shifting in his spot, "Come on before someone catches us." He opened the door, sticking his head out and motioned his head for me to come out. Around the same time I closed the door, Sam had made it up the stairs; totally oblivious to the fact of what had happened.

He approached us, "Anything?"

Dean glanced at me quickly, "Zip."

Sam nodded, looking at me, "You okay?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for askin'. We need to get back to the drawin' board."

Dean and Sam nodded in agreement as we all filed back downstairs.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Day**_

Dean sat on one of the doubled bed with an assortment of weapons around him; some were assembled, others not. He had brought it upon himself to do most of the cleaning so that I wasn't around as much chemicals. I sat on the other bed, munching on a bag of chips and the hottest salsa dip I could get my hands on. Dean would look up at me occasionally just to watch me fight with the salsa jar, just to scrape what was left at the bottom of it.

"Givin' you a rough time?" Dean asked, cleaning out the barrel of a shotgun.

I scrunched my face at the salsa jar, "You have no idea."

"Look…about what we did back there." Dean started to say. I stopped what I was doing and looked at him.

"It's cool." I said, "I get it."

Dean frowned, "No, let me finish." He said, "It's almost funny to think if Dad was here, he'd be tearing us a new one for doing what we did." I frowned at this, "That is, if he found out."

"What're gettin' at, Dean?" I asked softly.

"I shouldn't have done that." He replied, "It could've waited, Abs."

"'s not like I'm gettin' anymore pregnant, Dean." I said, turning my attention back to the jar of salsa when Sam walked through the door with a frown, "What do you have, Sammy?" I asked, smirking to myself when I got the chip and salsa out of the jar without it breaking. Again.

"A whole lotta nothing." Sam replied, "Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built."

Dean looked up from the barrel, "What about the land?"

Sam sat down beside me, "No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property."

Dean lifted his shoulders, beginning to reassemble the shotgun, "Hey man I told you, I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent. _Nada_."

"And the family said everythin' was normal?" I asked Dean.

"Well, if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something?" He asked, giving me a knowing look, "You of all people would pick that out before any of us. Besides, I used the infrared thermal scanner babe, you were with me." He continued, "And there was nothing."

I pulled a face pulling out a chip and popped it into my mouth, earning a dark look from Sam. I shrugged at him innocently, "So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?" He looked at me, "Abs."

"Sammy, I dunno." I began, not bringing myself to saying what I've been wanting to scream out.

Dean checked the shotgun, cocking it, uncocking it, and aimed to the corner of the room, "I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."

I watched Sam start to rub his temples like he had a bad headache, "Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house." He took a deep breath, holding his head. I glanced to Dean with a concerned look who looked at me with a mutual expression, "Maybe it's just…gosh—," I touched his arm with furrowed brows, "Maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?"

"What's wrong with you?" I asked him.

Sam's face scrunched in pain as he held his head, sinking from the bed to crouch on the floor, "My head." He grunted out in an anguished tone. I kneeled down beside him quickly with Dean leaving his bed.

"Sam? Hey," he crouched with us, grabbing one of Sam's arms, "Hey! What's going on? Talk to me." Sam stared at him blankly, as the both of us look to each other, deeply concerned for our brother. I reached out to touch Sam, and I gasped.

"Abs?!" I heard Dean call out from a distance.

_Jim's brother, Roger, entered his kitchen carrying groceries. He looked over to see an opened window. With a confused look, he walked over to close it and locked it. He walked back to the bags of groceries and started to unpack, when the window slid open again. Roger turned to the window, confused, and approached it. In his attempt to close it, the window sticks to something unseen, as he stuck his head out, twisting up to look at the top of the window for the source of it being stuck. Suddenly, the window slid shut with enough force, decapitating him; blood gushing over the window._

I sat down and scooted away, terrified as Sam blinked; looking between Dean and me, panting. Dean was looking between Sam and me, absolutely unaware of what just happened, "One of you mind tellin' me what the fuck just happened?"

"It's happening again. Something's gunna kill Roger Miller." Sam said quickly, but certain.

Dean flung his hands up in the air, frustrated and freaked out.

* * *

_**Impala—Night**_

"Roger Miller." Sam spoke softly into his phone as he held his head, "Ah, no, no—just the address please." He scribbled down the address, "Ok, thanks." He hung up his phone, "450 West Grove, Apartment 1120."

Dean kept his eyes ahead, "You two okay?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah." I nodded, silent. This was beginning to become fifty shades of fucked up. I didn't like this new thing that I had apparently acquired. I subconsciously rubbed my stomach feeling the fluttering and flopping sensations as means of trying to calm myself down.

"Look, if either of you two are gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over you know," Dean jested, looking to each of us with a smirk, "Cause the upholstery…"

"I'm fine." Sam bit out, glaring at his brother.

Dean's joking demeanor dissipated, "Alright." He said, looking forward.

"Just drive." Sam muttered. I watched the two of them from the back seat, quietly when Sam looked over to Dean with a sigh and looked away, "Dean I'm scared, man. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful. And now Abigail's getting them by just touching me?"

"Come on man, you'll be all right. It'll be fine." Dean said, trying to comfort his brother, "Abigail's fine. Quiet. But fine."

Sam waved his hand out of frustration, "What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?"

I bit my lip to the point where I tasted blood, I looked up through my lashes. Sam was so distraught and upset about his premonitions it broke my heart to see him that way. Dean appeared to be borderline freaked out and frustrated, but also concerned.

"I don't know Sam but we'll figure it out." Dean said in reassurance, "We've faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing."

"No. It's never been _us_." Sam said, looking at him, "It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out."

Dean had fallen silent, aware that Sam was waiting for an answer. He looked back in the rearview mirror with a troubled look in his eyes, then he shook his head unable to look at Sam, "This doesn't freak me out."

Sam stared at him, incredulous and wounded. I looked at him with unshed tears in my eyes, seeing him give me a guilty look, like he had done something to hurt me. I leaned forward, putting my hand on his shoulder, "It'll be alright, Sammy." I said softly, fighting back a series of torrential emotions.

He furrowed his brows taking my hand in his, squeezing it gently in deep appreciation. I was terrified right there with him.

* * *

_**Roger Miller's Apartment Block—Night**_

Approaching Roger's apartment block, Dean pulled the Impala up alongside Roger as he approached the entrance, carrying a bag of groceries.

Sam stuck his head out of the window, "Hey, Roger."

He looked to us with an annoyed expression, "What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone." He said, walking away from us.

"Please!" Sam yelled out as Dean gunned the engine, jumping the curb as he hurriedly parked the Impala. Sam got out and started running, "Hey. Roger. We're trying to help!" Dean and I followed close behind, seeing Sam met him running to the door, "Please! Hey, hey hey hey hey."

Roger looked at him through the window on the door, "I don't want your help."

"We're not priests, you gotta listen to us!" Sam called out after him.

"Roger, you're in danger!' Dean called out, then started to look around, "Come on." He said, waving for us to follow him, "Come on, come on." The three of us ran around the corner of the back entrance, finding that it is securely closed. Dean quickly looked around then kicked it open as Sam easily climbed up to the first level of the fire escape. I looked at it hesitantly, then looked at Dean.

"I'll help you up." He said.

I shook my head, "No, go. We may not have much time." Dean looked at me for a moment, then nodded using a nearby pipe as a foothold to get started climbing. I backed up to watch them climb, glancing to the floor that Roger was on; when I saw Roger stick his head out.

I felt my breath leave my body, "Roger! Get your head back in!" I yelled out, when it was too late. I clapped my hand over my mouth in horror. Sam and Dean's heads leaned over the railing at me before Dean shot forward, with Sam behind him. It had been several moments of silence that unnerved me. I looked around me quietly, trying to calm myself down from the feeling of being watched as I walked back to the Impala, "Max, don't do this." I said softly, "You don't have to do this." I had to have been three feet from Impala, if not that, when something behind me scraped against the ground, like rocks being kicked. I turned, and I was out cold before I could say anything.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Day**_

_I was a room kneeling next to Mrs. Miller, pressing a handkerchief against her bleeding forehead. Her hands grasped my arm tightly when the door nearby creaked open and Max walked in, looking perturbed._

_I stood up and moved towards Max as the door closed behind him as I placed myself between him and Mrs. Miller. A brute force sent me flying backwards into a nearby wall and crashed into it with a pained grunt, my arms wrapped around my growing middle, protectively as Mrs. Miller stared at Max in fear._

"_Max!" she pleaded as Max raised my pistol, his hand shaking as I slowly rose to my feet._

"_Son of a..." I breathed out, freezing when I saw my gun pointing at me. I approached Max warily eyeing him and my weapon, only to stop when Max let go of the gun, leaving it suspended in mid-air. My breath hitched in my throat as it cocked, turning to point at his mother. Protective of her, I stepped in the gun's way._

"_Stay back." Max breathed out, eyes red from excessively crying, "This is not about you."_

_I swallowed down a knot, "You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first."_

_The gun swerved to me, "Okay." Max replied._

_There was a gunshot. Numbly I blinked, looking down to see blood spreading from my stomach. As I looked back up at him, another shot resounded and it went black._

I shot up breathing hard, running my hands through my hair and winced upon touching my forehead. I blinked, looking down around me to see that I was back at the motel room and the sun barely shining through. My hands were trembling as I sat them in my lap to see Dean's sleeping form—fully clothed, on the other bed. I furrowed my brows, trying to scramble my head as to what happened last night when the door opened and Sam walked through, carrying a bag and a coffee holder with three coffees and froze, seeing that I was up.

"Dean. Dean." Sam said quickly placing everything down as he rushed over to me, wrapping me in a tight hug. Dean grunted, the bed squeaking from him moving, "Jesus Christ, Abigail." Sam pulled back away from me with a worried expression on his face, "What the hell happened last night?"

I blinked at him confused, "I-I don't…" I looked over to Dean, who by now was up and wide awake, "I don't know."

"What the hell were you thinkin' going off by yourself?" Dean demanded. I winced from the tone of his voice, seeing how I had a busting headache, "We were right behind you."

I closed my eyes, placing my hand to me head, "I was just going back to the car, and…that was it. Out."

Dean sat beside me, turning me to face him; eyes narrowing on the side of my face, and brushed his fingers over the tender spot. I winced and he jerked back, "Well, you did a number on yourself." He muttered, pulling my head forward as he planted a kiss to my forehead.

"Did you fall or pass out or something?" Sam asked.

I shrugged, looking down at my scraped up hands, "I don't know, Sam." Lifting my hands, they started to tremble and Dean frowned.

"Another nightmare." He stated, earning a look from Sam.

I remained quiet.

"Abigail, have you been seeing things too?" Sam asked me lightly.

I shook my head, "Nothin' like yours."

Sam's brows furrowed, "What do you mean, _nothin' like mine_?"

"Mine's different." I muttered, glancing up at them, "You know I love you two, right?"

Dean and Sam looked at me in shock from my words, then softened. Sam took one of my hands in his, grasping it in reassurance. He nodded, "Yeah. We do too."

I nodded, "I just wanted you two to know that, since, you know…I don't say it all willy-nilly." I nodded again, then took a deep breath, "I s'pose you two are going back the Miller's house?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah, we think Max might be in trouble." I nodded.

"Well, I'll go with you guys." I said and Dean shook his head.

"No, no, no. Abs, you just about went Humpty Dumpty on us last night. The last thing I want you to do is go with us. Besides, you need to rest." Dean said in big brother mode.

"I can do that when the baby's born." I told them, holding the side of my head with a wince, "Until then, I'm mobile."

Dean narrowed his eyes at me, shooting Sam a look to help him out. Sam raised his hands, standing up and crossed over to the bag and coffees. Dean shook his head, "Women."

* * *

_**Miller's House—Day**_

I stayed behind in the vehicle since a battered grief counselor looked rather bad. Which was fine in some ways and in others, it made me worry about Sam and Dean's safety. I didn't know what they were going to ask him or what was going to happen, but after thirty minutes; they were back out and they looked confused or about to catch onto something.

I stepped out of the Impala, "How'd it go?"

"No one's family is totally normal and happy." Dean replied, "You shoulda seen him when he was talking about his old house."

I raised my brows at him.

"He sounded scared." Sam said.

"Yeah, Max wasn't telling us everything." Dean stated, "I say we go find the old neighborhood, find out what life was really like for the Millers."

* * *

_**Another Suburb**_

Dean, Sam, and I stood on a foot path, talking to a man in his front yard; Dean with his arm wrapped around me.

"Have you live in this neighborhood very long?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, almost 20 years now. It's nice and quiet." He looked to Dean and back at me and my swollen belly, "Why, you looking to buy? Great neighborhood for kids."

Dean chuckled, "No, no, actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe."

Sam nodded, "Yeah the Millers. They had a little boy called Max." he added.

Dean smiled, "Right."

Having to think for a moment, the man nodded, "Yeah I remember. The brother had the place next door." He looked to the three of us concerned, "So uh, what's this about, is that poor kid okay?"

Sam furrowed his brows, "What do you mean?"

"Well in my life I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street, he was a mean drunk." Dean and I looked at each other with a mutual understanding of that, "He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of." Sam was oblivious to the sympathetic looks that came from Dean and I.

"This was going on regularly?" Sam asked in a hushed voice.

The man nodded, "Practically every day. In fact that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times." He shook his head, "Never did any good."

"Now you said step-mother." Dean spoke finally after listening to the man's story.

He nodded again, "I think his real mother died. Some sort of...accident. Car accident I think."

I looked over to see Sam put his hand to head, grimacing, "Are you okay there?" The man asked.

Sam looked up with a wince and nodded, "Uh, yeah."

Dean reached for Sam, placing himself between Sam and me, "Thanks for your time."

"Yeah, thank you." I said quickly, as Dean and Sam already started back towards the Impala—Dean fully supporting him.

"Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing." Sam sounded anguished from the front seat.

Dean frowned, "You sure about this?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I saw him."

"How's he pulling it off?"

Sam shrugged, "I don't know, like telekinesis?"

Dean scrunched his face, "What so he's psychic, a spoon bender?" he asked, looking over to him.

"I didn't even realize it but this whole he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died. These visions, this whole time—I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max!" Sam said, getting upset, "The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess—because we're so alike?"

I leaned forward to put a hand on his shoulder, "What are you talkin' about, Sammy? The dude's nothin' like you." I said with a smile.

Sam looked to me sadly, "Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both..."

"Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third." Dean said, backing me up.

"Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people?" He huffed a breath, "I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane."

"Yeah but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family!" He said to his brother, his anger rising.

I frowned, "Dean..." I had to catch myself when Dean pulled over in front of Max's house.

"He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him."

"We're not going to kill Max." Sam said.

"Then what?" Dean snapped, "Hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind'?"

Sam shook his head, "No way. Forget it." His decision stood firm.

"Sam..." Dean growled out, then looked over his shoulder at me, "Abigail, say something!"

"Dean. He's a person." I said softly, growing anxious.

Sam gave me a grateful look, "We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one."

Dean clenched his jaw, the muscles within it bulged out, and he stared at me for a long time through the rearview, "Alright fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else." He leaned forward, getting mine and his pistols from the glove compartment, sending a glare to Sam and opened the door after reaching my gun to me. Sam threw me another look before getting out. I sighed getting out of the car and walking into what might be my demise.

* * *

_**Max's House**_

Sam peered into the window to see that someone was inside as he looked to us from over his shoulder then rammed the door open, breaking the locks. He was first to go in with Dean right after him. When I stepped into the house right behind Dean, his arm swung out to stop me and tucked me away behind him—a dangerous look in his eyes that often chilled me to the bone when we were getting into something rough.

If only he knew.

From the hallway, we had a direct view of the kitchen, seeing Mrs. Miller and Max at the island in the middle of the room staring at us in shock as if we walked in on something.

"Fathers?" Mrs. Miller asked, stepping forward upon seeing Dean and Sam, but apparently didn't see me.

"What are you doing here?" Max asked them quietly, unaware of my presence as well.

Dean stepped back, "Aahh, sorry to interrupt."

Sam took a few steps towards Max, trying to capture his attention, "Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?"

From behind Dean I could see the suspicious looks Max was giving Sam and Dean, "About what?" he asked them.

Sam glanced back to Dean and I, "It's...it's private. I wouldn't want to bother your mother with it."

Max turned to his step-mother with a dark promise in his words, "We won't be long at all though, I promise." Then he looked to Sam, "Okay."

Sam nodded, "Great." Dean's hand touched my arm to turn me as him and Sam turned with Max following them. I reached for the doorknob, when suddenly the knob jerked out of my grasp, and the door slammed shut; the wooden blinds pulling shut across the room.

Max's face paled, "You're not priests! Or a counselor!" Dean and I drew our weapons, only to have them pulled from our hands, watching them slide across the floor out of our reach. He kicked Dean's out of the way, picking mine up and I swallowed a lump in my throat, feeling Dean pull me behind him out of instinct.

"Max, what's happening?" Mrs. Miller cried out upon walking into the hallway.

"Shut up." Max said to her.

She kept walking towards us, "What are you doing?" Max looked back at her, then using his power, flinging her backwards like a ragdoll where she landed with a sickening thud. My heart started beating out of my chest and I felt sick.

"I said shut up!" He yelled at her unconscious form, grabbing his head in pain.

Sam held his hands out, "Max, calm down."

"Who are you?" he asked, holding my pistol on us still.

"We just wanna talk, Max." I said lightly from behind Dean. He threw me a nervous look.

"Yeah right, that's why you two bought these!" Max shouted, indicating mine and Dean's pistols. I frowned, earning a scowl from Sam.

"That was a mistake alright?" Sam reasoned, "So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max ok? Just please, just hear me out."

Max looked at Sam with a wince, "About what?"

"I saw you do it." Sam said, "I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle before it happened."

Max's eyes widened, "What?"

"I'm having visions Max. About you." Sam stated, "Abigail's even had them by touching me."

Max looked at me, uncertain, "The two of you are crazy."

"So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?" Sam tapped his eye, "Right here? Is it that hard to believe Max, look what you can do!" He licked his bottom lip, "Max, I was drawn here all right? I think I'm here to help you."

By this time, Max had began to cry, shaking his head in anguish, "No one can help me. Not you, not her."

Sam glanced back to me, "Let me try. We'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean, Abigail, and Alice out of here."

"Uh-uh, no way." Dean said, and we all three looked up when the chandelier began to shake."

"Nobody leave this house!" Max yelled, staring at us with red, swollen eyes.

"And nobody has to, alright?" Sam said, "They'll just...they'll just go upstairs."

Dean glared at Sam, "Sam, I'm not leaving you alone with him."

Sam looked at his brother stone faced, "Yes, you are." His eyes went to me, "Look, Max. You're in charge here, all right, we all know that. No one's going to do anything that you don't want to do but I'm talking five minutes here man."

Max looked back to his stepmother, considering Sam's words, "Five minutes?" He asked as the chandelier above stopped shaking, "Go."

Dean grabbed my hand, pulling me to move with him and Max pointed the gun at him. He froze.

"Not you." Max stated, "Just her."

"No." Dean bit out, "I go with her."

I put my hand on his arm, "Dean, listen to him."

He stared at me long and hard, "I'm not letting you out of my sight, Abigail."

"Listen. To. Him." I said, starting to shake a little…this is how it was going to end, "Five minutes."

A series of emotions washed over Dean's face as he looked to Alice, then at Max and Sam, then finally back to me. He nodded, hesitant, when he let go of my hand, "At least let me take your mother up there," Dean said, trying to reason with Max, "She's pregnant."

Max's face paled, "No. She goes. You stay."

Dean's eyes bored holes into him that could've caused him to burst into flames. I took Dean's face in my hands and kissed him. _One last time._ I thought, feeling the flutter in my stomach and the painful prick of tears in my eyes. I pulled back, seeing the fear and confusion behind emerald eyes as I turned, pulling Mrs. Miller up and ushered her semi-conscious form upstairs, leaving the protection of Dean and Sam. I looked over my shoulder at them, seeing the helplessness and fear in both Sam and Dean's eyes as they stood without any options.

* * *

_**Sam's Point of View**_

Max watched Abigail escort Alice upstairs, slow and careful. My heart was pounding in my chest as I thought of a million different ways to diffuse this situation, to be able to keep Max from doing something regrettable. To keep Abigail and my nephew safe. When they were out of sight, Max watched Dean return by my side, eyes never leaving him with a dangerous glint in them. Max bent over to pick up Dean's pistol, earning another glare from Dean when he motioned for us to sit on the couch.

Dean and I noticed a silver letter opener rise to attention before it began to twirl in the air slowly.

"Look, I can't begin to understand what you went through." I began, glancing to Dean.

"That's right, you can't." Max said, resting the pistols in his lap.

"Max, this has to stop." I told him gently.

His jaw clenched, "It will, after my stepmother—"

"No." Dean blurted out, "You need to let her go."

I gave him a sharp look, seeing Max look at him as well, "Why?"

"Did she beat you?" I asked.

He shook his head dejectedly, "No, but she never tried to save me. She's a part of it too."

"What they did, to you, what they all did to you growing up, they deserve to be punished..." I started to say, glancing to my brother, and looked back to Max when he scoffed.

"Growing up? Try last week." He stated, rising to his feet and lifted his shirt to reveal a mass of dark blue, purple, and red looking bruises; some fresher than others. I stared at them, grieved as Dean grimaced. Max let out a shaky breath, "My dad still hit me. Just in places people wouldn't see it." He tugged his shirt back down, "Old habits die hard I guess." He said, sitting back down as the letter opener twirled faster.

"I'm sorry." I told him in a soft tone.

"When I first found out I could move things it was a gift. My whole life I was helpless but now I had this. So last week Dad gets drunk. The first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell, first time in a long time. And then I knew what I had to do." He explained, looking down.

"Why didn't you just leave?" Dean spoke.

Max looked up at him, "It wasn't about getting away. Just knowing they would still be out there. It was about...not being afraid. When my Dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?"

Dean looked perplexed, however he didn't bring himself to say anything but a quiet, "No."

"He blamed me for everything. For his job, for his life, for my Mom's death." He said, bringing his attention back to me.

"Why would he blame you for your Mom's death?" Dean asked, confused.

"Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes it my fault." At that revelation, Dean and I sat back, wide-eyed from shock. _That's the same way…_I gaped at him, catching Dean's face pale slightly.

"She died…in your nursery?" I asked, fidgeting in my seat.

He nodded, "There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling!"

"Listen to me Max," Dean said, struggling to stay as calm as he could, _considering._ "What your Dad said, about what happened to your Mom. It's real."

He stared at us, "What?"

"It happened to our Mom too, exactly the same." I added, "My nursery, my crib, our Dad saw her on the ceiling."

Max sat back in his seat with a dry scoff, "Your Dad must have been as drunk as mine."

"No, no. It's the same thing, Max." I said quickly, aware of the look Dean had given him, "The same thing killed our mothers."

Max shook his head in disbelief, "That's impossible."

"This must be why I'm having visions during the day. Why they're getting more intense. Cause you and I must be connected in some way. Your abilities, they started 6-7 months ago right, out of the blue?" I asked.

"How'd you know that?" Max asked, growing uneasy.

"Cause that's when my abilities started Max. Yours seem to me much further along but still, this has to mean something right? I mean for some reason, you and I...you and I were chosen."

"For what?" he asked lightly, "What about her? What can she do?" he asked, insinuating about Abigail.

I swallowed, "Abigail?" I asked.

He nodded when Dean and I exchanged an uneasy glance, "She apparently has some form of supernatural perception—meaning that she can see things in their true form, and she's able to pick up on things by touching them or walking into a room." Dean replied for me.

"She's had whatever power she has since she was a kid," I motioned to Dean and myself, "But, Abigail, Dean, and I; we're hunting for your Mom's killer." I told him in hopes of reaching out, "We can find answers, answers that can help us both. But you gotta let us go Max. You gotta let your stepmother and Abigail go."

Max fell silent, deep in thought. I could hear Dean grinding his teeth from beside me, knowing that his anger was about to boil over. The look in Max's eyes told me that he was falling, then he started to shake his head, "No. What they did to me. I still have nightmares. I'm so scared all the time, like I'm just waiting for that next beating. I'm so sick of being scared all the time, I just want this to be over!"

"It won't. Don't you get it? The nightmares won't end, Max. Not like this. It's just, more pain. And it makes you as bad as them. Max, you don't have to go through all this by yourself." I said quickly.

Tears slid down Max's face and he grabbed a fistful of his hair, "And then he comes to me, telling me to do these awful things to someone I don't even know." he confessed.

Dean looked at him sharply, "Do what to who?"

Max looked to me then to Dean, distraught, "I-I couldn't do it, I just couldn't." He shook his head, "But I know who it is, now… I'm sorry." Before Dean or I could stand, Max had used his powers to fling the both of us into a cramped hall closet, slamming the door with something blocking us in. Dean grunted in pain, rising to his feet, holding his head and rammed his shoulder against the door in an attempt to open the door.

"No!" he yelled out.

"Max!" I yelled out after him.

"So help me Max, if you as much as lay a finger on Abigail, I'll rip your fucking lungs out!" Dean roared out, ensuring that he had heard him. He rammed against the closet door again with a grunt. For a moment, I had saw how frantic my brother truly was. He looked to me, wide-eyed and helpless and grabbed my arm roughly, "Help me, damn it!"

I swallowed and slammed my shoulder into the door, hearing something heavy barely move on the other side. Moving to ram the door again, I stopped, holding my head in pain.

Dean froze staring at me alarmed, "Sam?!"

_I saw Abigail in a room kneeling next to Mrs. Miller, pressing a handkerchief against her bleeding forehead with an eerily calm look on her face, as Alice held onto Abigail's arm. The door nearby creaked open and Max walked in, looking perturbed._

_Abigail stood up and moved towards Max as the door closed behind him placing herself between him and Mrs. Miller. Max used his telekinetic powers on Abigail, sending her backwards and crashed into it with a pained grunt, wrapping her arms around her middle protectively as Mrs. Miller stared at Max in fear._

"_Max!" she pleaded as Max raised the pistol, his hand shaking as Abigail slowly rose to her feet._

"_Son of a..." She breathed out, freezing when she saw Max pointing the gun at her. Still, she approached Max, warily eyeing him and the weapon, only to stop when Max let go of the gun, leaving it suspended in mid-air. The hammer cocked back, turning to point at his mother to end everything until Abigail had stepped in the gun's way. _

"_Stay back." Max breathed out, eyes red from excessively crying, "This is not about you...this doesn't have to end for you."_

_Abigail squared her shoulders, letting her arms fall away from her stomach with a pained grimace, "You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first."_

_The gun swerved to me, "Okay." Max replied._

_There was a gunshot. Abigail blinked, looking down to see blood spreading from her stomach. As she looked back up at him, another shot resounded. She felt crumpled to the ground; dead._

I gasped, feeling terror and panic rise up in me, "No! _No!_" I yelled out, panicked and hear whatever was in front of the closet door slide away. Dean's eyes widened with shock and gaped.

"What? What'd you see?" He demanded, fearing the worst.

"We gotta go," I said, pushing open the doors before the both of us froze upon hearing a loud _thump_ from upstairs. Dean said nothing and shoved me out of the closet, grabbing his gun from the chair as I followed him up the stairs.

* * *

_**Abigail's Point of View**_

I was in room kneeling next to Mrs. Miller, pressing a handkerchief against her bleeding forehead. Her hands grasped my arm tightly when the door nearby creaked open and Max walked in, looking perturbed.

I stood up and moved towards Max as the door closed behind him as I placed myself between him and Mrs. Miller. A brute force sent me flying backwards into a nearby wall and crashed into it with a pained grunt, my arms wrapped around my growing middle, protectively as Mrs. Miller stared at Max in fear.

"Max!" she pleaded as Max raised my pistol, his hand shaking as I slowly rose to my feet.

"Son of a..." I breathed out, freezing when I saw my gun pointing at me. I approached Max warily eyeing him and my weapon, only to stop when Max let go of the gun, leaving it suspended in mid-air. My breath hitched in my throat as it cocked, turning to point at his mother. Protective of her, I stepped in the gun's way.

"Stay back." Max breathed out, eyes red from excessively crying, "This is not about you…this doesn't have to end for you."

I swallowed down a knot, squaring my shoulder and let my arms down with a pained grimace, "You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first."

The gun swerved to me, "Okay." Max replied.

The door slammed opened as Dean and Sam came in; Dean holding his gun with a fierce expression on his face and Sam came in, holding his arms out.

"No don't! Don't! Please. Please. Max." Sam said, making all of us look at him, "Max. We can help you. Alright? But this," he motioned to the gun that was pointed at me, "what you're doing. It's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything."

"Put the gun down, Max." Dean warned.

Max stared at the both of them and is complete mess; he is shaking, sweaty and in tears as he stared at Sam, anguished. Like a switch, he relaxed, "You're right."

Dean looked at him warily, unsure whether to lower his gun or not. Sam smiled at him, but watched as Max turned away to stare at me. The gun swung towards him, aiming for his head and fired.

"No!" Sam yelled out as Max crumpled to the floor dead and my pistol fell with a clatter. I stepped back, staring at Max with wide eyes until I hit the wall, sliding down it, stunned. I hadn't realized that Dean had already moved over to me, falling to his knees and took my face in his hands, emerald eyes staring into mine; frantic and checking for any sign of injury.

"Can you get up?" He asked.

I blinked, nodding, "Check on Alice."

He glanced up, seeing Sam standing over Max.

I grimaced in pain as I slowly got up from the chair, Dean and Sam taking each of my arms to help me up as Mrs. Miller sat on the couch, "Max attacked me." She said, staring straight ahead in shock before glancing up at the cop, "He threatened me with a gun."

"And these three?" the cop asked her, indicating Sam, Dean, and I.

She looked over to us, "They're...family friends. I called them soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun."

"Where did Max get the gun?" He asked her, as Dean and I exchanged an anxious glance. Luckily, Dean had gotten Sam to take his out to the Impala before the cops arrived.

Mrs. Miller began to cry and looked up at the ceiling, "I don't know. He showed up with it and..." She couldn't finish her sentence and broke down into a series of incoherent sobs. I frowned, feeling Dean pull me against him closer as the officer patted Alice's shoulder sympathetically.

"It's all right Mrs. Miller."

"I've lost everyone." She sobbed out. The police officer looked rather uncomfortable as he turned to us.

"We'll give you a call if we have any further questions." He said.

Dean nodded, "Thanks officer." He patted Sam's arm, "Come on." We all nodded to Alice as we left the house, walking down a path.

"If I'd just said something else. Gotten through to him somehow." Sam muttered, ensuing an internal battle with himself.

Dean shook his head, "Ah, don't do that."

"Do what?" Sam asked, looking at him.

"Torture yourself. It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone." I replied.

"When I think about how he looked at me man, right before." He hung his head, "I shoulda done something."

"Come on man, you risked your life." Dean started, letting his arm fall from me as we approached the Impala, "I mean yeah, maybe if we had gotten there 20 years earlier."

"Well I'll tell you one thing," Sam said. We paused to look at him, "We're lucky we had Dad."

Dean blinked, unsure of whether he heard Sam correctly, "Well, I never thought I'd hear you say that." He said, sounding astounded and rather pleased. I smiled lightly at that, thought the smile was as genuine as I wanted it to be. Something's were better kept locked in a closet.

"Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we woulda had Max's childhood." Dean nodded, growing solemn over the thought, "All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him."

Dean looked over his shoulder staring back at the Miller's house, "All things considered." Sam reached to open the passenger door, "Which leads me to ask," Sam paused to look up at his brother confused, "Your nightmare Abigail."

I frowned, "What about it?"

"You knew." He stated, "This entire time, you knew."

Sam turned to look at me like he had been punched, "What?"

"Abigail knew this entire time that Max was doing this, and didn't bother to tell us." Dean eyes fixated on me, "Why?"

"This was my burden, Dean." I said softly.

His lips formed a thin line, "Like hell, Abs. You coulda said something to us, to Sam! Someone!"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna sit and tell say, "Oh, by the way, the yellow-eyed bastard dropped by in my dreams and pretty much put a hit out on me and our kid." And expect _you_ to take it well?" I stated, seeing their eyes widened.

"What?" They both asked, concerned and livid, "When?"

"Oh, about every night." Dean gaped, "Telling me that I need to choose whether I 'exterminate' the abomination growing within me, or he does. My baby an abomination…" I shook my head with tears in my eyes when Dean had rounded the car, pulling me into his arms. My voice trailed off as I was overwhelmed with sobs. Sam stood, stunned that I had such nightmares and managed to hold them in as long as I had, though completely shaken by how tonight's event could've played out.

Dean seemed to have been feeling mutual when he took my face in his hands, "Abigail, from now on, if you have another one of those, you tell me or Sam as soon as you get up. We won't let that sonofabitch near you or our child. Not now, not ever. Got me?" I stared at Dean for a long while, unable to speak and I just nodded. Then he just smiled, "Hey." I raised my brows, "I know somethin' that'll cheer anyone up."

Sam arched his brow, "What?"

"Pie and beer." He said with a grin, "But no, beer for you since—you know, I kinda screwed you up." He then added with a pleased look on his face when he directed it to me. The corners of my lips tipped up when I broke out into a laugh and he pulled me into another embrace, planting a kiss in my hair, hearing Sam chuckle softly, "And yes, Mr. Anti-Carb, you're getting pie too."

"Oh, no. Thanks." Sam declined.

"Oh, come on. We're celebrating." Dean said, "We made it out alive, by the hair on our asses." Sam shook his head when I looked at him, a small smile in place.

"Come on, Sammy." I said, whipping a tear from my face and whipped out a puppy dog look of my own. Dean saw this and '_oooh_'d Sam, making him roll his eyes.

"Shots fired, Sammy-boy." Dean said, "How's it feel to have a taste of your own medicine?"

Sam shook his head laughing, "Fine! Fine, get the pie."

Dean and I grinned.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Night**_

_**Dean's Point of View**_

"I'm gonna go grab me a pop from the vending machine," Abigail said, wrapping her arms around my waist and laid her head against my back, "You want anythin'?"

I looked over my shoulder at her with a smile, "Nah, I'm good."

She smiled up at me, pooching her bottom out a little, "Okay." I felt her hand gently tug me to the side so that she could slide to my front. I rested my chin on top of her head, "How'd I get so lucky?" She asked.

I looked down at her taken aback by her question, "How'd _you_ get so lucky?" I smirked, "With my devilish good looks."

Her hand swatted my ass playfully, "Yeah, _sure_."

I laughed, "No, but seriously, how did _I_ get so lucky?" I stared into those blueish-green eyes of hers, realizing that if it weren't for Sam, she and our child would've died, "I almost lost you."

"But I'm still here." She replied, reaching up to trail her fingers down the side of my face and kissed me, "_We're_ still here." She then corrected herself, indicating the baby, "I should've told you and I should've told Sam."

I shook my head, "Doesn't matter, everything's done and over with."

"I know, it's just that…this could've gone a completely different path than what it did."

"And it didn't." I replied casually, "I'm fine, Sam's fine, you're fine, and our baby's fine." I shook my head, taking her chin between my thumb and index finger, "That's all that matters."

She hummed in agreement, pressing her lips against mine. Let me tell you, I could do this all day if I could get away with it.

Abigail pulled back until her lips barely brushed against mine, "I love you."

I smiled at her, "I know." I kissed her this time, "Right back at ya, babe." With another pat, she stepped back and winked when Sam stepped in.

"Hey, Sammy." She greeted him as I rolled up a shirt and crammed it into the bag. He wrapped an arm around her, placing a kiss into her hair.

"Hey, Abby." He said, "How're you feeling?"

She shrugged, "Tolerable. I'm gonna get a pop, you want anything?" He shook his head, "Alright. Don't say I didn't ask you two." She said pointing her finger to me and poked Sam in the chest, "Baby Winchester needs a _Dr. Pepper._"

I snorted, "More like Baby Colt needs a _Dr. Pepper_." Abigail raised her brows and raised her middle finger, "Any time, any place sweet cheeks." She laughed, shaking her head as she walked out of the room. Sam watched her leave and then sighed.

"I've been thinking." Sam spoke quietly.

I glanced up at him as I stuffed my clothes into a bag, "Well, that's never a good thing."

"I'm serious. I been thinking, this demon, whatever it is. Why would it kill Mom, and Jessica, and Max's mother, you know? What does it want? Why does it want to kill Abigail and the baby?" He asked, brows knit together out of worry.

I frowned, turning my attention to what I was doing and shrugged, "I have no idea."

"Well, you think, maybe, it was after us? After Max and me?" Sam asked, "What if it's after Abigail?"

I looked up at him, "Why would you think that?"

"I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Abigail has that supernatural perception and can have those flashbacks." Sam shrugged, "Maybe he was, he was after us for some reason and now he's after Abigail because—"

"Don't." I said sharply, "Don't."

Sam sighed, "Dean, you need to consider if this baby is going to have what she has…maybe what I have."

"Sam. If it had wanted you, it would've just taken you. Okay?" I shoved more of my clothes into my bag, "This is not your fault, it's not about you."

"Then what about Abigail? What about your child?" Sam pressed, "Are you not worried about that at all?"

I threw down the shirt I had in my hands, "Of course I'm worried, Sam!" I said, "I'm scared shitless because whatever killed mom and Max's mom, has put a hit out on the one thing I care about the most." I clenched my jaw seeing Sam frown, "Like I said, Sam. This is not your fault, and it's not about you."

"Then what is it about?"

"It's about that damn thing that did this to our family. The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all." I declared to my brother, "Whatever this thing is, no matter how big and bad it is, I won't let it hurt you or Abigail or my kid or anyone else for the matter as long as I'm alive."

Sam stared at me for a moment, touched. I rolled my eyes, shaking my head as I went back to rolling up the shirt that I had thrown down, "Actually there's uh ... there's something else too." Sam said.

"Ah, jeez. What?" I breathed out.

"About that cabinet against the door." He pressed.

"Right." I chuckled, "You got a little more upper body strength than what I need to give you credit for."

Sam furrowed his brows at me, "No man. You were there. You saw what I did." He took a step towards me, "I moved it. Like, Max."

Saying nothing, I reached over and picked up a spoon, "Bend this."

"I can't just turn it on and off Dean!" Sam replied, getting frustrated.

"Well, how'd you do it?" I asked, genuinely wanting to know how the fucker done it.

He shrugged, "I don't know, I can't control it. I just...I saw Abigail die and it just came out of me, like a, like a punch. You know like...a freak adrenaline thing."

I shrugged, continuing to put the rest of my things into the bag, "Yeah well I'm sure it won't happen again." Abigail came in taking a drink of the familiar maroon colored drink she was more or less addicted to drinking than coffee.

"What'd I miss?" She asked, screwing the cap back on.

"Nothing." I said. Sam furrowed his brows at me in a scowl, "Oh, uh, Sam can move things with his mind."

Abigail's brows rose in astonishment, "Like Yoda?" She asked getting a little excited, "Awesome." Sam rolled his eyes at her.

"No, not like Yoda." Sam replied.

"So…not like Yoda?" She asked, "That bites. I'd love to do that."

I furrowed my brows at her, "You would?"

"Shit yeah, I would!" She replied, "I wouldn't have to climb over you to get to the remote or turn off the lights, you know, stuff like that." Then she grinned, "Oh my god, I could _totally_ be like Mrs. Weasley in Harry Potter!" She jumped a little in excitement, "Teach me your ways, Sammy!"

I threw my head back with a groan, "Oh God, no."

Sam looked at Abigail like she had caught him off guard by her response, then looked to me with a frown, "Aren't you guys worried?" He asked, "Aren't you worried I could turn into Max or something?"

Abigail's eyes glanced to me with an amused look and she shook her head, "Nope. No way." Sam's face softened at her words, "You wanna know why little big bro?"

"No? Why?" he asked her.

I smiled to her and she smiled back, "Cause you got one advantage Max didn't have." I told him.

"Dad?" Sam asked, brows raising with surprise, "Because Dad's not here, Dean."

I zipped mine and Abigail's bag, crossed the room to Abigail and wrapped an arm around her as she did the same, "No. You got us." I replied with the corners of my mouth twitching into a smirk, "As long as we're around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you." I looked down to Abigail and flicked her nose, getting a snort in response from her, "Or you." I said, resting my hand onto her swelling stomach, "Or you." Abigail and Sam looked to me with tiny smiles. Sam had stayed quiet, looking at us with a small light in his eyes. I felt Abs' hand cover mine, looking up at me with her eyes glittering from unshed tears. I chuckled at them, giving her a kiss to her forehead and walked back over to the bed, slinging our bag over my shoulder.

"Now then," I said, "I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go."

I noticed the curious exchange between Sam and Abigail, "Where?" he asked.

"Vegas." I deadpanned, grinning at him. Abigail folded her arms with an arched brow while Sam tilted his head as he looked over to her then me before rolling his eyes an walked out of the motel room to car. I grinned after him, catching Abigail by the waist, "What? Come on man. Craps tables. We'd clean up!"

"And with me pregnant?" Abigail asked.

I laughed, "You can blow the dice for good luck, sugar-pie. Nobody'd ever know with the right getup."

She rolled her eyes getting into the backseat as I took a moment to look at the both of them. Their lives were in my hands, they always had been. I had to do something to keep them safe and within my sight at all times, that was my job-my god-given right and duty. The thought of losing either one of them made me sick to even think of such a thing, and today showed me how close I was to losing Abigail and my son. I shook my head, blowing out a sigh as I shut the door behind me. I had to keep them happy and unknowing of how I felt about Abigail's pregnancy being farther along than anticipated, Sam's little power trip, or the fact that the bastard that had killed mine and Sam's mother basically placed a hit out on Abigail. This was now as much my burden as it was theirs.

I handed Abigail our bag through the window before I got in and started up the car.

This was only the beginning.

* * *

**Chapter 16's out! Which means, 8 more chapters! Woot, woot! -insert Geico camel celebration-**

**This chapter caused me some problems. One, I totally deflated when I realized that I forgot about this chapter when I was about to jump on the _Benders_ bandwagon. (I was totally excited, like, ya'll just don't know.) And Two, I had a hard time trying to decide if I should just post this or skip it and come back to it later via flashbacks in later chapters or as Abigail's nightmares, but seeing how I had this already written out, I decided to post it since ya'll are amazing!**

**So! Q&amp;A time!**

**How about that gestational change from 11-12 weeks to 15? (I looked up on that and the second visit and what _I think_ an OB/GYN would say for a change in the due-date. I hope that it was realistic enough! Ladies with babies, let me know how I done!)**

**What do you think about Abigail withholding her nightmares up until the very end? Do you think she should've said something about it or was she justified in keeping it quiet?**

**And how about that little kink of Dean's? Was that a little evil of Abigail to do what she did and then have it done to her in return by him?**

* * *

**I also want to thank you guys-the readers. I seriously enjoy reading ya'll's reviews, they make me smile and therefore, makes my heart smile. I couldn't ask for any better people! c:**

**Ladysunshine6- Thank you! I try my best to be able to allow Dean to tell Abigail that he cares about her in some fashion. I hope I'm doing well on keeping him in character and not making him all touchy-feely. If I am, let me know!**

**wideawakepastmidnight- Awe, thank you! I'm so happy to know that! I loved Jo and I hated that her and Ellen had to go. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your kind words! Hope to see your reviews later on! c:**

**angelicedg- You're most certainly welcome! Of course, Sam would take over on the healthy, anti-warrior/pro-rabbit food take for her pregnancy! I feel like they're gonna argue on some of the field of food. I'm thinking that John will make his grand appearance in _Shadows_ like on the show and Bobby _might_ make his grand appearance before _Salvation_ (correct me if I'm wrong on the episode!), if I do, then it won't be with the boys and Abigail. It would be just Abigail as he offers her some fatherly advice.**

**ebonywarrior85- I wasn't a fan of Cassie either, but I kinda wanted to stick with the story line. At first, I wanted Abigail to sock her in the mouth, but I figured the feel train needed to depart at some point. haha. I'm elated to know that you're enjoying the story! c:**

**SassyGrl23- Thank you! I will most likely start on the spin-off backstories before or after I begin the second installment. Though, I will announce it once I get a few chapters written out. c:**

* * *

**I'd like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. **

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

**REMIND ME OF THESE THINGS. D:**

* * *

**ALSO. I want everyone to check out my buddy, Ladysunshine6's _first_ fanfiction story, _It Ain't Easy in the Big Easy, _and show her some love and support! I think it would mean a lot to her as a writer and also help get some of those creative juices flowing! It has a lot of promise!**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles! c:**


	18. The Benders

**_May 16th, 2006_**

**_Hibbing, Minnesota_**

Being sixteen weeks today made me realize that I had been three weeks into my second trimester, leaving twenty-four weeks left until my son or daughter would be here. But this also brought me better pittances; I didn't have to pee as much as I did, my hormones were on overdrive, meaning that Dean had no problems waking up in the middle of the night for some romping, and my morning sickness was easing off to where I wasn't as dependent of taking Zofran. Yay, independence! Another thing about being in the fourth month of my pregnancy that I upright hated with a passion was the damn cramps that intended to scare the piss out of Dean and Sam at night, ugly purple veins in my legs that bulged out, and my personal favorite…random bloody noses.

Though I will admit that had its perks, too; it absolutely freaks them out worse than the surprise leg cramps. The first time it ever started was when we were watching _The Exorcist_ and it just happened, freaking Sam and Dean out, though Dean won't openly admit it. Another time was when Dean woke me up with his arms, back and chest smeared with blood; absolutely freaking out while I woke up with blood smeared all over my face, hands, and arms as well. It wasn't a pretty thing to wake up to, though it was amusing.

I smirked to myself at the memory as I stood in between Sam and Dean. The three of us dressed as sheriffs, which made Dean's ass look exquisite this fine day. There was something about those pants that just lifted it in an appealing way. I had to fold my arms so that I couldn't reach out to give one good swat. Just one and I'd be satisfied.

"I know you're just doing your job, but the police have been here all week already." Mrs. McKay said, putting me from the gutter, "I don't see why we have to go through this again. The more he tells the story, the more he believes it's true."

Sam took off his hat, Dean and I following suit, "Mrs. McKay, we know you spoke with the local authorities."

"But, uh, this seems like a matter for the state police, so…." Dean said, glancing at me for a moment.

I cleared my throat, banishing those thoughts from a few moments ago as I smiled to Evan, "Don't worry about how crazy it sounds, Evan. You just tell us what you saw."

"I was up late, watching TV. When I heard this weird noise." He said looking to his mother rather agitated over the fact that she didn't believe him. Poor thing couldn't have been more than ten.

"What did it sound like?" Sam asked.

"It sounded like….a monster." Evan replied as Dean and Sam exchanged a look, I furrowed my brows at him.

Mrs. McKay rolled her eyes at her son's wild imagination, "Tell the officers what you were watching on TV."

Evan swallowed looking at us, "_Godzilla Vs. Mothra_." Dean and I broke out in smiles.

"That's our favorite _Godzilla_ movie. It's so much better than the original, huh?" Dean said excitedly, motioning to me with a nod as Evan's eyes lit up at our mutual fondness of the classics.

"Totally." Evan said brightly.

I smiled at him, "Yeah." I nodded over to Sam, "He likes the remake, but don't tell 'im I said anythin'." I winked when he scrunched his face.

"Yuck!" Evan replied as Dean and I laughed until Sam glared at us and cleared his throat. We pursed our lips together and looked down at our feet like a couple of scolded kids.

"Evan, did you see what this thing was?" Sam asked.

He shook his head, "No. But I saw it grab Mr. Jenkins. It pulled him underneath the car."

"Then what?" I asked.

"It took him away. I heard the monster leaving. It made this really scary sound." Evan said.

I frowned, "What did it sound like, Evan?"

"Like this…whining growl." I furrowed my brows, looking over to Dean.

Sam smiled to Mrs. McKay, "Thanks for your time."

* * *

**_Kugel's Keg—Night_**

Heavy smoke clung to the air like it had clung to my lungs inside the bar. Aside from Travis Tritt blasting across the jukebox in an upbeat song, I felt anxious and nauseated at the same time. Like I stated, the morning sickness had eased off; not completely go away. The dull thumps of darts hitting the board made it worse as Dean landed bulls-eyes simultaneously, looking to me with a smug look.

"C'mon babe, I know you're better than this." He roused, "I'm demolishing you!"

I arched a brow at him, "I usually am." I mused, taking a swig of decaffeinated coffee and cringed from the taste, "This just doesn't get any better." I muttered, earning an amused look from Sam, who had looked up from the computer, taking a pull from his beer.

"So, local police have now ruled out foul play." Sam said, setting his beer down, "Apparently, there are worse signs of a struggle."

Dean handed me the darts from and aimed, "Well, they could be right, it could just be a kidnappin'. Maybe this isn't our kind of gig." I said, tagging a bulls-eye with the first dart.

"Yeah, maybe not." Sam said, "Except for this—," Dean and I approached the table to look at John's journal, "Dad marked the area. Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker."

I frowned, "Why would he even do that?" Dean asked.

"Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night. Grabs people, then vanishes. He found this too—this county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state." Sam informed us.

"That's weird," I said, throwing the second dart, hitting the bulls-eye.

"Yeah." Sam mused.

"Don't phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds?" Dean asked, taking a seat at the table, "Jenkins was taken from a parking lot." I tilted my head at his deduction and threw the third dart, missing it completely. I frowned, shaking my head at how poor I was playing tonight. _I was definitely better at this, just not tonight._

"Well, there are all kinds." I said, turning to them and took a seat beside Sam.

He nodded, "Springhill Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime." Sam said, backing up my statement, "Look, guys, I don't know if this is our kind of gig either."

"You guys reckon we should ask around more tomorrow?" I asked, looking to them, exhausted. They exchanged a glance, mulling the thought over before Dean nodded.

"Yeah, you're right." He said, patting my thigh and got up.

Sam pulled out his wallet, "Right. I saw a motel about five miles back."

Dean looked at us with a frown, "Whoa, whoa, easy. Let's have another round."

"Dean, I'm jus' not in it tonight." I said lightly, earning a sympathetic look from Dean, "Besides, we should get an early start."

Sam nodded in agreement, "She's right."

"Yeah, you really know how to have fun, don't you, Grandma?" Dean asked, looking to Sam with a smirk. The both of us smiled at him when he realized that he was losing, to which, he sighed in defeat, "Alright, I'll meet you two outside, I gotta take a leak." He grabbed his jacket from beside me and planted a quick kiss on my cheek before he headed to the bathroom. I helped Sam gather his research and headed out of the doors, wrapping my arm around his.

Outside, we headed to the car.

"You feeling alright?" Sam asked, looking down at me.

I shrugged, "Ah, I'll be alright. Jus' not feelin' too good, Sammy."

"You're not gonna break out in a nose bleed are you?" He asked, his lips twitching into an amused smirk. I replied with my eyes directing to the night sky in an eye roll.

"_No_." I replied smacking his arm playfully, "I know when those things start. It's jus'…I don't know. Somethin' ain't right." I heard a noise, glancing to Sam with a confused look and saw a mutual expression as he nodded slightly in confirmation of the noise. We stopped, placing our things on the hood of the Impala as Sam pulled out a flashlight from his coat. He stepped forward, and I stepped forward, only to have him reach out a hand to stop me, shaking his head with furrowed brows.

Sam approached a nearby car, getting on his hands and knees only to jump back as a cat yowled at him, darting out from under the car. I pursed my lips in amusement, seeing him straighten up and look at me with a shake of his head. I looked down at my feet for a split second, then looked back up to see that Sam was gone. I furrowed my brows, pushing myself off the side of the car fighting the rise of panic in my chest.

"Sammy?" I called out, looking around, "Sam, this ain't funny!" I said, seeing two people drag a tall figure that I recognized as my brother and I gasped, "_Hey_!" I yelled out, sprinting forward, "the hell you doin' with my brother?!"

One of the captures looked startled, not really expecting anyone to see them, let alone a pregnant woman attacking them. I delivered a harsh right hook to the man's head, feeling my fist connect with the man's head in a pleasing _thump_, in which, I'm sure he saw stars judging from him staggering to the side, dropping Sam's legs.

I didn't give him no time to recover, sending my leg out in a crushing blow to his thigh where a pained moan passed his lips. Another man came out, blindsiding me with a blow to the face where I stumbled into a nearby car, holding my head. I blinked, narrowly missing the assailant's blow to my stomach, instead, barely clipping my side. I glared, throwing out a left uppercut and connected with the man's chin, sending him to the ground with a grunt.

I'd be _damned_ to go down without a fight! Panting, I looked over to Sam in my brief moment of calm, seeing him lying on the ground unconscious before it had gone black.

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Parking Lot—Night_**

Exiting the bar into the parking lot with full intentions of a rematch with Abs, I walked out to see an empty lot. I furrowed my brows in confusion as I approached the Impala, seeing a cat sitting on a car nearby. Not that it bothered me it being there, just as long as the flea bag wasn't on my car. The sound of pages flapping in the wind caused me to turn, seeing Dad's journal sitting on the hood without signs of Abigail or Sam in sight.

I frowned picking it up, as I looked around in the parking lot for signs of my brother and pregnant girlfriend. Despite the rising fear in my chest, I opened the door to the Impala, _knowing_ I knew they weren't in there. My tongue darted out to dab my bottom lip as I looked around, confused and worried. "Abs, Sam!" I called out, "You got me, now come out!"

The parking lot was silent, aside from a group of people leaving the bar. I walked up to a biker and his girlfriend, who looked like they were both three sheets to the wind drunk, "Hey, you guys been outside, around here in the last hour or so?" I asked. They shook their head and walked away. I sucked in a breath that had caused the sinking feeling in my stomach to deepen the further I walked out into the parking lot. "Abs!" I yelled out, "Sam!"

I looked around again, frantic, "Abigail! Sammy!" My eyes searched for some sign of the spunky blonde's hair, the bounce in her step as she came out from her hiding spot, and the smug look that I had looked forward to see from behind one of the cars. There was none. I felt my breathing speed up as I headed to the road, until I saw something on the ground. My heart sank as I bent over to see a broken chain and the casing that I had made for Abigail. Picking it up, I swallowed down the knot as I stepped out into the deserted road, noticing a surveillance camera on top of a streetlight. I looked around once more, fighting off the shiver of panic. "Guys." I muttered, looking down at the necklace in my hand.

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View _**

**_May 17th, 2006_**

**_Sheriff's Department—Morning_**

Last night was a bust. I virtually hadn't slept at all, since I drove around the neighborhood at least three or four times. I tried calling both of their cells, getting their voicemails. Eventually, I had to stop by a motel in hopes that they wound up at the motel Sam had talked about at the bar, but sleep still didn't come. The room was too big for just myself, and the bed was too empty and cold for my liking. I always found myself searching for Abigail, wanting so badly to feel her beside me.

After another round of tossing and turning, I got up to head out for another bout of searching. At the first break of light, I grabbed my fake police ID and headed to the police station where a deputy by the name of Kathleen looked over the ID, handing it back to me.

"So, what can we do for you, Officer Washington?" Kathleen asked. In a brief observation of the woman, she had brown hair—much like Abigail's when she didn't color it blonde, blue eyes similar to hers however they weren't as striking, and a little more jaded in life like she had a secret. Despite Abigail's jaded past, she still made it a point to be somewhat optimistic about things in general, a wisecrack here or a playful smack there; something to ease up the weight of our jobs.

I cleared my head, "I'm working a missing persons." I said.

"I didn't know the Jenkins case was being covered by the state police." She stated, seeming confused.

I smiled, "Oh, no. No, there's someone else." I told her, "Actually, it's my cousin. We were havin' a few last night at this bar down by the highway. And I haven't seen him since." I kept Abs' name out of it since that was like saying my own name. As far as the world knew, we were both dead; forever lost in time.

"Does your cousin have a drinking problem?" Kathleen asked me.

"Sam? Two beers and he's doin' karaoke." I stated, earning a smile from her. I shook my head, "No, he wasn't drunk. He was taken."

Kathleen nodded, moving to the desk behind her and waved me over to the admin area, where I sat, "Alright. What's his name?" She asked, looking at me from the computer.

"Winchester. Sam Winchester." I replied.

"Like the rifle?" She asked.

I nodded in confirmation, "Like the rifle." I said, watching her pull up a program on the computer, typing in Sam's name before bringing up his police record. Silently, Kathleen's eyes scanned the page, clicking on a link to that apparently belonged to me and brought up my record.

"Samuel Winchester." She murmured, looking back to me, "So, you know that his brother, Dean Winchester, died in St. Louis. And, uh, was suspected of murder?" I felt my blood turn cold as I shifted in my seat, trying to look nonchalant.

I smiled, "Yeah, Dean. Kind of the black sheep of the family." I tilted my head to the side, "Handsome, though."

Kathleen stared at me for a moment, unimpressed, "Uh-huh." My smile fell as she continued to type something else, bringing up more search results on the computer, "Well, he's not showing up in any current field reports."

I leaned back in my chair, "Oh, I already have a lead. I saw a surveillance camera by the highway."

"Uh-huh. The county traffic cam?" She asked.

I nodded. "Right. Yeah. I'm thinking the camera picked up whatever took him. Or, whoever." I said, frowning at how sloppy I was. Abigail or Sam could've said it better than me.

"Well, I have access to the traffic cam footage down at the county works department, but—well, anyhow, let's do this the right way." Kathleen stood up, gathering some paper work from a filing cabinet nearby, "Why don't you fill out a missing persons report and sit tight over here?" She said, handing over the paperwork on a clipboard.

"Officer, look, uh, he's family. I kind of—I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let me go with you." I said.

Kathleen looked at me sympathetically, "I'm sorry, I can't do that."

I looked down, fighting off the building frustration and franticness I was feeling within my chest, "Well, tell me something." I said, looking back up at her, "Your County has its fair share of missing persons. Any of 'em come back?" I asked, catching her saddened look, "Sam's my responsibility. And he's comin' back. I'm bringin' him back." _Abigail, too_. I added in my head. My chest clenched painfully, not wanting to delve into the dark thoughts my mind was trying to concoct. I glanced to the clock on the wall with a deep frown. _They'd been gone almost 10 hours, three minutes, and seventeen seconds._

Kathleen must've seen the desperation behind my eyes as she relented, "Alright. Let me see what I can find on the camera."

I nodded, glancing back up to the clock.

Another hour had passed, _10 hours._ I thought numbly, watching cars pass outside.

"Greg," Kathleen's voice called out from behind me. I looked over my shoulder and stood up quickly upon seeing her holding printouts, "I think we've got something." She said as she handed me the printouts. I flipped through them, seeing nothing familiar, no Sam, no Abigail. "These traffic cams take an image every three seconds, as part of the Amber Alert program. These images were all taken around the time that your cousin, Sam, disappeared." Kathleen explained.

I glanced up at her, "This really isn't what I'm looking for."

"Just wait, wait—," She said, pointing to the page behind the one I was holding, "next one." I turned, seeing an image of a rusty truck driving. "This one was taken right after Sam left the bar. Look at the back end of that thing. Now, look at the plates." She instructed, as I looked over the vehicle and turned the page to see a close-up image of the truck's license plates.

"Oh, the plates look new. It's probably stolen." I said.

"So, whoever's driving that rust bucket must be involved." Kathleen deduced, as a beat-up van drove by—it's engine whining loudly. I furrowed my brows, looking over at the vehicle.

"Hear that engine?" I asked, nodding to the van.

She looked over, "Yeah."

"Kind of a whining growl, isn't it?" I commented, remembering Evan's description from yesterday.

Kathleen shrugged, "Sure." I stared at the van as it drove away, then it dawned on me.

"I'll be damned." I muttered.

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

**_Unknown Location_**

I came to with a sharp jerk, a wave of pain pounded against my head like a hammer to a nail as I scrunched my face. I tasted the uncomfortably familiar pang of blood dance across my tongue when I licked my lips, only to wince from my busted lip. Beams of light broke through the boarded up windows of the room I was in, feeling the flip-flopping sensation of my unborn child fidget within me. I looked down to see that my arms were tied firmly to a wooden chair, _how long had I been out? _I thought, glancing back to the beams of sunlight, _where the hell was Sam?_

I struggled against my bonds, only to still at the sound of footsteps behind me.

"She's up." A voice said, causing me to careen my neck over my shoulder with wary eyes.

A door opened as a figure dressed in a black robe came into the room I was in. I had to keep calm, _Eye of the Tiger, Abs._ I chanted in my head as I fought with my breathing to remain in a calm, steady pace whilst my heart hammered within my chest, as well as hammering in my head.

"Who are you?" I stated in the calmest voice I could muster up.

The figure came to a stop in front of me, "I'd be worried about myself if were you, little woman." I strained my eyes to make out a face, but as far as I knew, he was perfectly human. _Great, crazy bastards._ A deep, throaty chuckle emitted from his mouth, "Seems to me that yer an ornery little thang. Stubborn as a mule."

I stared at the man, silent for a moment, "So, what's the story?" I asked, searching, "Do you just up an' take random women off the streets. Surely someone like you can get yerself a date on y'own."

The figure approached me, but I still couldn't make out a face. His breath, however, could've knocked down an elephant. It was of chewing tobacco and cigars, and dead animal. It was rank. I had to turn my head to stifle down a gag. _What a time to be pregnant._

I felt a hand reach out, taking me by the chin and my head turned to either side, like an animal being inspected before the slaughterhouse, "I don't usually bother with the womenfolk," he said, intrigued almost, "Don't usually put up much of a fight—usually they give up too easy." I cringed feeling his hand release my chin, traveling down my neck and down to my breast where it remained.

I glared, "If you wanna keep that hand of yers, I'd highly suggest you take it off my breast."

The man chuckled in amusement, "_Oh_, a fighter, huh?" He directed his voice to someone else in the room, "She's got some spunk!"

"She's tougher than a pine knot, Paw." Another voice said, "Hurt Lee, here right good, wilder than a three-toed Comanche, that'n."

"Kicks like a mule, too." A third voice, I assumed Lee, said miserably. I assumed my expression was smug from all the lamenting.

"Pretty bad two big men can get their asses handed to 'em by a girl," I added smugly. The cherry-red end of a cigar lit up, before the head man, Paw, blew a cloud of smoke in my direction, then a blistering pain shot out in my hand, realizing the sonofabitch ducked his cigar on me. I bit my lip to hold back a yelp of pain, only allowing a low grunt to escape.

"Yer right, Jared." Paw said, "Tougher than a pine knot." I breathed in deep breaths, feeling the coil of rage sit within my stomach like a large knot, "Take 'er back with the others."

I gripped the arms of the chair tightly, "Where the hell's my brother, you sonofabitch?" I growled out. The second man, Jared, came up to me and slapped me across the face as hard as he could. I tasted blood again, realizing that I had cut the inside of my mouth while my cheek burned like fire from the hit.

Jared and Lee untied my hands, one of their hands entangling in my hair and roughly picked me up, shoving me forward, "Don't do nothin' stupid, darlin'." I felt the cold end of a weapon touch the back of my neck, before a black sack went over my head and I jerked slightly.

"C'mon, now." Lee urged.

I stumbled forward, not really sure where I was being led to. We trekked through what I guessed was their house, when the blast of air hit me along with the sun shining through the fabric that was over my head. _We must be outside._ I thought, feeling gravel under my shoes. My captures led me down somewhere else as it turned dark rather quickly, and the faint odor of hay and blood assailed my nose along with the sound of someone kicking metal greeted my ears.

I furrowed my brows in the dark hood, "The hell are you takin' me?" I demanded, wanting to sink to my knees like a three year old would in a temper tantrum. Unfortunately, my demand had fallen upon deaf ears, "Where's my brother?"

"Abigail?!" I hear Sam's voice call out, frantic.

A pair of hands gripped the back of my neck, "Ho," Jared said, stopping me. I swallowed down a knot in my throat when the hood was jerked off my head, my hair being pulled roughly in the process as well. I squinted at the different lighting surroundings, and saw Sam in a cage, "Don't move now, y'hear?"

"Stand back, boy." Lee ordered, holding a gun to Sam. Before I could get adjusted to the lighting, Jared shoved me into the cage and slammed the door. I tripped on my way in, feeling Sam catch me.

"Jesus, Abs." Sam breathed out, "What'd they do to you?" he asked, taking my face in his hands and saw the damage they had done to me. His brows knit together into a dark scowl as his eyes left my face, to where the two men had once stood, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, gingerly bringing my hand up to my face and winced, "I'll be alright." I sighed, then placed a firm hand against my stomach to rouse my child to move. A swift nudge greeted my side, "We're alright." I muttered, meeting his gaze, "Where the hell are we?" I asked, looking at the maze of cages.

"I don't know," Sam replied, "But I found Jenkins."

I blinked, turning my head to the second cage across from us. Alvin Jenkins looked at me with an unsympathetic wave, "We were lookin' for you."

"I realize that." He said dryly, "Great job the both of you are doing."

I looked back to Sam with an arched brow, "Bit of a smartass." I murmured, noticing the plate of food in Jenkins' cage, "How often do they feed you?"

"Once a day." He replied, "And they use that thing over there to open the cage, as you've seen." I looked to a panel on the wall.

"And that's the only time you see 'em?" Sam asked.

"So far." Jenkins replied, "But I'm waitin'."

I arched a brow, not really wanting to hear what he was waiting for, but I insisted, "I know I'm gonna regret this, but, waitin' for what, exactly?"

"Ned Beatty time, man." Jenkins replied.

I blew out a breath, "Of course we are." I walked over to the edge of the cage and sat down, "Only thing missin' is the duelin' banjos."

Jenkins pointed a finger at me, "Damn right."

Sam frowned at me unapprovingly, "I think that's the least of our worries right now, Abigail." He crouched before me, "Did they hurt you or the baby?"

I shrugged, "I'll be alright, Sammy." I told Sam softly, seeing his lips draw into a thin line when he pulled my hand out, showing him the angry red and gray burn on the back of my hand. It had gone far beyond blistered to the point where it was scabbed and cracked, spots of blood glistening through.

"Oh, yeah?"

Sam nodded with a dark intent glittering in his eyes, "Yeah."

"What do you think they want, then?" Jenkins asked through a mouthful of food. I watched Sam reach through the top of our cage and grab a long metal wire stretching from the top of the pole to the ground and tried to pull it down with a grunt.

"Depends on who _they_ are." Sam grunted out, putting his weight.

Jenkins scoffed from his cage, "They're a bunch of psycho hillbilly rednecks, if you ask me. Lookin' for love in all the wrong places." I arched a brow at the pessimistic man, hearing Sam grunt as he continued to pull on the wire. A flourish of hope spread through me when I saw it gradually begin to detach from the pole.

_C'mon, Sammy. _I thought, _I got faith in ya._

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Sheriff's Car—Day_**

Kathleen and I were in a squad car doing a tour of a remote highway where the last traffic camera had picked up the truck. Kathleen pointed to a passing traffic camera, "Okay, the next traffic cam is fifty miles from here, and the pickup didn't pass that one, so…." She trailed off, looking over to me.

"So, it must've pulled off somewhere." I finished for her, glancing down to the map, "I didn't see any other roads here." I replied, shaking my head, looking back up; out into the darkness.

"Well, a lot of these backwoods properties have their own private roads." Kathleen stated.

"_Great_." I breathed out, annoyed.

Kathleen glanced over to her computer, clicking on something, "So, _Gregory_." She said tentatively. I turned to look at her.

"Yeah?"

"I ran your badge number. It's routine when we're working a case with state police. For accounting purposes and what have you." Kathleen explained.

I nodded, "Mmhmm."

"And, uh, they just got back to me." She said, pulling the car over. I looked at her warily, "It says your badge was stolen." I gaped. _Oh, shit._ "And there's a picture of you." Kathleen turned the computer towards me, showing an image of a heavy African-American man.

I felt panic flourish in my chest and I chuckled, "I lost some weight." Kathleen arched her brow, "And I got that Michael Jackson skin disease."

Kathleen took off her seatbelt and I swallowed, "Okay, would you step out of the car, please?"

"Look, look, look." I said quickly, giving in. She stopped, "If you wanna arrest me, that's fine. I'll cooperate, I swear. But, first, please—let me find Sam."

"I don't even know who you are. Or if this Sam person is missing."

"Kathleen, it's not just Sam." I said, "There's a girl—my girlfriend, alright?" I said, seeing the conflict in her eyes, "She's pregnant with my child, sixteen weeks." Kathleen looked at me with doubt, "I didn't want to say anything, to not bring her into this, but—," I blew out a sigh, running out of options, "It's not like them to just run off. Look into my eyes and tell me if I'm lying about this."

"Identity theft? You're impersonating an officer." Kathleen stated softly.

"Look, here's the thing. When we were young, I pretty much pulled him from a fire." I told her, "My family took in my girlfriend long ago when she was fourteen. And ever since then, I've felt responsible for them. Like it's my job to keep them safe." I felt tears prick my eyes, "I'm just afraid if we don't find them fast—," my chest constricted with fear, "_please_." I said, "They're my family—all I have left."

Kathleen fell silent, staring at me. "I'm sorry. You've given me no choice. I have to take you in." She glanced to her visor, a brief look of sadness washing over her and she sighed, "After we find Sam Winchester…and the girl." She fastened her seatbelt. I looked at her confused.

"This girl…who is she?" Kathleen asked.

"Abigail?" I saw her nod.

"Your girlfriend…you said she's pregnant?"

I swallowed, nodding my head, "Yeah…"

"Must be terrifying…having both of them missing." Kathleen murmured.

"You have no idea." I replied.

She glanced over to me, "I think I do."

I looked at her confused, "Huh?"

Kathleen shook her head, giving me a sympathetic look, "Nothing. Let's find them, quick." I fell silent, grateful for her help. Delving back into my thoughts however, I couldn't help but feel so helpless over wondering where Abigail and Sam was. What had happened to them? If they were alright. If Abigail and my son were alright. I had to keep a level head for them.

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

**_Unknown Location_**

I sat in the corner of the cage, watching Sam as he pulled the metal coil from the beam—a thin sheen of sweat coating his face from the strain.

"What's your name, again?" Jenkins asked.

"It's Sam," Sam grunted out.

Jenkins let out a low chuckle, "Why don't you give it up, Sammy, there's no way out."

I looked up to Sam with an amused expression, _knowing_ how he felt about people calling him _Sammy,_ of course, I used it quite often. Other than Dean and I, I could tell that he bristled at the thought of it.

"Don't….call me….Sammy!" He bit out with a groan and finally tore down the coil, a small piece of metal falling to the floor as well. My brows rose in astonishment. I knew he was struggling, but apparently Jenkins' little _Sammy _outburst pushed him over the edge where he could get the wire out.

Jenkins got up, interested in what had fallen, "What is it?" he asked, leaning against his cage.

Sam picked it up and looked at it thoughtfully, "It's a bracket." He said.

Jenkins fell back, rolling his eyes, "Well, thank God, a bracket." He said sarcastically, "Now we've got 'em, huh?" Suddenly, Jenkins' cage unlocked itself and opened, "Must've been short." He took his chance and climbed out, "Maybe you knocked somethin' loose."

I slowly got up, looking around warily, "I think you should get back in there, Jenkins."

He looked at me, "What?"

I shook my head, pulling my brows into a worried look, "This ain't right."

Jenkins motioned out the door, "Don't you two wanna get out of here?"

Sam looked back at me, "Yeah. But that was too easy."

"Look, I'm gonna get out of here, and I'm gonna send help, okay?" He said, "Don't worry."

Sam and I shook our head, staring at the man with outright concern for his well-being, "No, I'm serious." Sam said quickly.

"This might be a trap." I added.

"Bye, Sammy…Abigail." Jenkins said as he bid farewell, pushing open the door and left us.

"Jenkins!" We called out, wide-eyed. Not even a few minutes after Jenkins had left, his cage slammed shut by itself. I swallowed, growing deeply anxious…hell, I was beginning to get frantic.

"Sammy…" I whispered, looking up at him, "I don't like this…"

He reached for my hand, grasping it tightly, "I don't either." Sam pulled me into his chest, wrapping me in his arms in a reassuring hug, "We're gonna get out of here. Dean'll find a way."

I started shaking. _I hope so, Sammy._ I thought, blinking away tears. I had gone far past afraid to the point where it was plum dangerous to anyone who wasn't familiar to enter. It had gotten dead silent except for our breathing until we hear Jenkins screaming out in the distance. That had done me in and I buried my face into Sam's chest, clenching my arms around him tightly. Sam had done the same, burying his face into the crook of my neck.

"It's gonna be okay, Abigail." He repeated, "Dean's gonna come and get us."

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_May 18th, 2006_**

**_Street_**

I took a large pull of the black coffee Kathleen handed to me as we were walking back to the squad car. It was going on thirty-six hours since Abigail's and Sam's disappearance and every time we thought we'd get one step closer, we were in fact three steps behind. Time was running out for them.

"Hey, Officer? Look, I don't mean to press my luck." I said.

Kathleen looked over to me with a serious look, "Your luck is so pressed."

I nodded, "Right. I was wondering—why are you helping me out, anyway? Why don't you just lock me up?"

Kathleen plucked at her coffee lid, frowning at it sadly, "My brother, Riley, disappeared three years ago. A lot like Sam and Abigail. We searched for him, but—," She shook her head, "nothing. I know what it's like to feel responsible for someone, and for them—," Kathleen stopped what she was going to say. She motioned her head, "Come on. Let's keep at it." She said, getting into the car.

We had been driving for some time along the edge of a forest. Ahead, something caught my eye, "Wait, wait, wait—pull over here." I said, "Pull over." Kathleen pulled the squad car over as we both climbed out, walking towards the forest. I looked at her, "It's the first turn-off I've seen so far."

She nodded, "You stay here, I'll check it out."

I stared at her as we walked then shook my head, "No way."

"Hey." Kathleen stated, "You're a civilian. _And_ a felon, I think. I'm not taking you with me." She said, stopping.

"You're not goin' without me." I protested calmly.

Staring at me for a moment, Kathleen sighed, "Alright. You promise you won't get involved? You'll let me handle it?"

I nodded, eager to get the show on the road, "Yeah, I promise."

She held her hand out, "Shake on it."

Not thinking about it, I extended my hand to shake. While we were shaking, Kathleen gripped my hand and planted a set on handcuffs on my wrist, clicking the other set onto the door handle.

I groaned, "Oh, come on." I watched Kathleen start to walk away, "This is ridiculous. Kathleen, I really think you're gonna need my help."

Kathleen paused to look back at me, "I'll manage. Thank you." She locked the doors and walked away. I groaned, throwing my arm up and looked up to the sky for some answer.

"I gotta start carrying paper clips." I muttered, looking around for something to unlock the cuffs. The doors were locked, thanks to Miss. Independent Cop Lady. I had nothing on me, which was nothing new. "Abigail would _so_ not let this go if she saw me." I said aloud, knowing that it was the truth. It was like her to pick things and jest about them. I tilted my head, Sam would too. I blew out an agitated sigh, catching something in the corner of my eye. I turned my head fully to see the antenna of the car. _Bingo_. I stretched my arm out, desperately trying to reach it. I grunted, sticking my tongue out in my attempt when the screech of a pickup truck alerted me from off in the distance.

I stiffened, "Oh, son of a bitch." I stretched myself further out, wiggling my fingers out to grasp the antenna. After a few attempts, I finally grabbed it and began to unscrew it, glancing up now and then to make sure the truck wasn't in sight. With a satisfied blow, the antenna fell to the ground. I picked it up quickly, glancing up to see the truck. I cursed, fiddling with the antenna and unlocked the cuffs. I wasted no time and dashed into the forest.

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

**_Barn_**

By now, Sam and I had long since sat back down, side by side in the cage. I rested my head against his shoulder with my arms wrapped around myself in a protective manner of my stomach. It had been hours since Jenkins' scream, and we had already feared the worse. I was starving, nauseated, and terrified all at once and it just seemed to be never-ending.

The doors opened, causing me and Sam to stand up quickly with our breaths hitching in our throats, waiting for something to happen. Instead, the two men; Jared and Lee, came in hauling an unconscious woman and tossed her into Jenkins' old cage. I glanced at Sam quietly, only to have Lee stare at me with a smug look. I caught his staring and he grinned at me, licking his lips. Sam caught this and put me behind him with a dark look in his eyes.

Jared didn't say anything but smack Lee, motioning his head back to the door as they both left, leaving us to stare at the woman. She wore a dirty white T-shirt and her hair is down. It was very shortly after her arrival that she came to with a groan and massaged her head.

"You alright?" Sam asked her.

She stopped, looking up at us, "Are you Sam Winchester?"

He nodded, growing hopeful, "Yeah."

"Your, uh, your cousin's looking for you." She stated.

I sighed, tipping my head up to the ceiling, "Thank God." I said, "Where is he?" I asked.

She bit her lip, "Well, I, uh—I cuffed him to my car." She admitted. We both sighed, growing anxious all over again. I sat back down, putting my head in my hands, silently praying for some form of help. The door opened once again, the four of us on red-alert at the intruder. I stayed in my spot on the floor, however my eyes remained focused.

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Barn_**

Having narrowly missed being detected and headed into the woods, I had followed a trail that ran through the property, ensuring that visibility was unclear and ensured that I wasn't going to be spotted. Ironically, I was standing outside a barn, observing the scenery around me; taking notice of small things. Would it be odd to think that a barn of this size and stature had been ideal for someone to be held captive? Or would it be that simple?

There was only one way for me to find out, and that was going in. The lighting inside if was okay, but not great—I could pick out where I was heading, then found myself in a little room that had opened into the main area of the barn. Behind equipment, I stilled, listening to what I thought was voices talking. They were hushed, almost too quiet to hear.

Slowly, I approached the door, opening it while looking around for some form of a weapon, since, I didn't have one. Almost immediately, I saw Sam as soon as I stepped into the room, seeing that he had been locked in some cage like an animal.

"Sam?" I called out, cringing over the fact that my voice carried rather loudly. Sam saw me and smiled, coming to the bars, "Are you hurt?" I asked, seeing him shake his head. It wasn't long for me to see Abigail curled up in the corner of the cage, blood caked and smeared across her face. Her eyes widened upon seeing me and got up quickly, crossing the cage next to Sam and reached out for me.

"Dean!" She whispered brokenly.

"Jesus, Abs." I said taking in the look of fear in her eyes, "Are you okay?" All the fear, concern, and worry that I had held in within me bubbled up to the surface. I stepped forward, reaching through the bars and took her face in my hands, seeing the busted lip and nose, blackened eye and knot on her temple. Though she had a frightened look withheld in her eyes, she nodded slowly, "What about the baby, is it alright?"

She nodded again, "Yeah, as far as I know."

I looked to Sam and her, relieved, "Damn, it's good to see you two."

"How did you get out of the cuffs?" Kathleen's voice sounded from behind me. I turned with a smirk.

"Oh, I know a trick or two." I replied, seeing the look of confusion on her face. I nodded, looking to Abigail and Sam, "Alright, let's get you guys out of here." I said, letting go of Abigail's face and moved, catching the look of fear crawl back across her face when I moved around to the door of the cage and saw the lock. I frowned, "Oh, these locks look like they're gonna be a bitch."

"Well, there's some kind of automatic control right there." Sam said, pointing to the control panel.

"Have you seen 'em?" I asked.

"Yeah. Dude, they're just people." Sam replied.

I raised my brows looking to both Abigail and Sam, "And they jumped you two? Must be gettin' a little rusty there, kiddos." I quipped.

Like a switch, Abigail snorted reverting back to her old self, "You should see the other two."

I smirked walking over to the control panel and started to punch different buttons, "What do they want?"

Abigail shrugged, "I don't know. They let Jenkins go, but that was some sort of trap. It doesn't make any sense to me."

"Well, that's the point. You know, with our usual playmates, there's rules, there's patterns. But with people, they're just crazy." I replied, shaking my head.

Sam peered out of the bars at me, "See anything else out there?"

"Uh, he has about a dozen junked cars hidden out back. Plates from all over, so I'm thinkin' when they take someone, they take their car, too."

Kathleen looked to me, "Did you see a black Mustang out there? About ten years old?"

I frowned, turning to look back at her, "Yeah, actually, I did." Judging from the crushed look in her eyes, I guessed this was bad news for her. "Your brother's?" I asked, seeing her nod, "I'm sorry." After a brief moment of silence, I inhaled turning to them, "Let's get you guys out of here, then we'll take care of those bastards." I pointed to the control panel, "This thing takes a key." I looked to Sam and Abigail, "Key?"

Sam shrugged, "I don't know."

"Alright, I better go find it." I told them, turning to leave.

"Hey." Abigail called out. I stopped, turning to look at her, seeing worry written in her eyes, "Be careful."

I crossed the room fairly quickly, giving her a reassuring kiss through the bar, "I'll be back," I promised her in a horrible Arnold Schwarzenegger voice and grinned hearing her laugh. Needless to say that it was _so_ worth seeing the look in Sam's eyes as he smiled at me. Abigail reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly before she stepped back and nodded, holding Sam's hand in hers. I took a deep breath and nodded, leaving them behind as much as I really, _really_ hated it.

I had to get them out as soon as possible.

Next stop, the weirdo's house. Climbing into the basement of the house via window, I found myself in total darkness until I pulled a flashlight from my jacket pocket and turned it on. Immediately regretting I had done so. The room was filled with various things; shelves holding jars and bottles with various body parts and organs contained inside. I stepped closer to look at one jar with an unrecognizable item, "Yikes." I muttered, turning to a wall covered in various photos that made my skin crawl—one photo that had stuck out and was freshly taken was of Jenkins being displayed beside two men like some trophy.

I grimaced, feeling a shiver crawl up my spine, "I'll say it again—demons I get. People are crazy." To my right, I saw a flight of stairs and ascended them until I found myself in the living room. Somewhere close, a record played as I looked around, spotting a wooden pick leaning against the wall and picked it up. It was close enough to a weapon in my book.

Placing my back up against the wall, I inched closer to the kitchen…if you could call it that. I ended up bumping into something that looked like a wind chime as it clanked together. I reached out to hold it still, eyes widened from the racket it caused, "What the—?" I stared at it, letting it go quickly when I realized the wind chime was made out of bones—a bone chime. Okay, bad joke.

A tray of keys caught my eye on a nearby table before I peeked around the corner, an older man stood with his back facing me butchering up something on a table with multiple torture implements hanging from the ceiling; picks, knives, saws…you could name it, and it was probably there. I swallowed hoping that whatever the guy was cutting up wasn't Jenkins, but deep down, I knew the gruesome truth. It was him, and that made me want to get Sam, Abigail, and Kathleen out of here before these sick bastards could do anymore damage.

He turned around to pick up another tool and I turned away out of sight, moving over to the tray of keys, reaching to pick them up until I saw a jar full of human teeth. I scrunched my face in a look of disgust, then spun around after the floor creaked to see a little girl who couldn't be any older than twelve or thirteen. She looked terrified and all around messy. Her hair was tangled and wild looking, what area of her body showed was covering in grime, and brown teeth that looked like she needed an intensive dental plan to save them, I held my hands out to show her I meant no harm, "Shh. It's okay." I told her, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

I realized I fucked up when the little witch held up a knife, grinning at me wickedly, "I know." She lunged forward, poising the knife to stab me, only snagging me by the jacket and pinned me to wall, turning her head, "Daddy!"

"Jeez!"

"Daddy!" The girl hollered when I finally removed the knife just as two large men came downstairs. The largest one out of the two walked towards me as I kicked up with both feet and kicked him only to be thrown into the wall by the first man like I was a ragdoll causing me to drop the knife. Getting my footing again, I stood up and pushed the largest one to the ground and punched the first one one. It wasn't long before until I was backed up to a wall; bleeding and bruised from the few licks I had received.

Panting, I pointed to the first man, "I'm gonna kick your ass first." Then I pointed to the second one, "Then yours." They moved towards me, then everything went black.

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

**_Barn_**

It had been too long. _Way_ too long since Dean had left to find the key. By now, I had started to pace with Sam, until he stopped me.

"You need to calm down, Abigail." Sam said, "I'm sure Dean is fine."

I shook my head, "It shouldn't have been this long, Sam! Something is _wrong_." Jared and Lee came into the barn, no longer dressed in their long black robe attire. Kathleen, Sam, and I stilled, turning our heads as our cage door clicked open. Sam shoved me behind him when Jared pointed a rifle at him. It was close, but not as close as what Sam had intended for them. Lee stared at me for a long moment before gesturing to follow. I looked to the men and shook my head, "Not in this lifetime, big boy."

Lee trained his rifle onto Sam, as he looked at both men, determining how and what would be a good way to disarm the two men. Lee stepped into the cage and Sam lunged forward to take the weapon away from him. Apparently they had been aware of his intentions as Lee slammed the butt of his rifle into Sam's face and he fell down, allowing Lee to grasp my arm in an iron grip. Outside the cage, I twisted around staring at Sam in a panic, "Sammy! Sammy, get up!" I yelled out when the cage doors slammed shut.

I struggled against them, sliding my feet out from under myself like a child getting ready to get his or her ass busted only to be jerked up roughly by both Jared and Lee. I gritted my teeth when we made it to the front door, Jared pushing it open with a hand and shoved me through where I stumbled forward. In my brief moment of freedom, I didn't take in my surroundings, only hunkered down and mule kicked him in the thigh; hearing a pleasing pained moan from him only to have a hand fly out and slam my head against the door frame.

I groaned out, relenting my attempt at escape as Lee pulled me into the living room…or whatever it was. It looked like a horribly unorganized storage room slash living room with junk all over the place, while in the middle of the room had been cleared out where a low-bearing beam hung with a hook hanging from it. I swallowed, wincing from the renewed pain in my head. Lee and Jared picked me up with ease as they pushed me up and pulled my tied hands over my head, leaving me to dangle by an inch or so, I could barely touch the ground with my toes. My shoulders protested under the pressure of my body hanging like that.

An older man, the epitome of all those movies that depicted the patriarch rapey redneck behind it all, came into the room donning the iconic jean overalls, a torn over shirt, and a hunting jacket. Crooked black teeth grinned at me through a scraggly moustache and beard. Oh, and the icing on the cake with the cherry on top? The man had a damned baseball cap. This was beginning to feel like _Wrong Turn_, _Deliverance_, and _The Hills Have Eyes_ converged together.

"You've caused me and mine quite a bit o' trouble, missy." He drawled out, looking me over. It was quick for me to realize that the voice from earlier was him. This, _Paw._ I smirked defiantly at him to sway off the fact that I was scared shitless for my safety and for my baby's.

"Good." I said, "'Cause someone's comin' for me and mine, and when he does, he's gonna stomp the dog shit outta you and yours." Paw stared at me, amused at my empty threat. He said nothing, only pursed his lips and smacked them like something was caught in his teeth. I shuddered to let my mind wander to what or _who_ was caught in them as a groan alerted me from behind.

My blood ran cold in my veins when I instantly recognized who it had come from. _Dean._ I managed to turn myself around on the hook to see him tied to a chair, scrunching his face in pain. He lifted his head up, showing me blood smeared across his face as he squinted for a minute, only to widen his eyes upon seeing me hang there in front of him. I watched breathlessly as his Adam's apple bobbed, looking to me and then to the three men that had gathered around us, before turning his eyes back onto me.

Lee kept his eyes on Dean, "Come on. Let us hunt him." He said to his father.

Jared nodded with a smirk, "Yeah, this one's a fighter. Sure would be fun to hunt." Paw looked to his boys and laughed with him.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me." Dean said with a grimace, "That's what this is about? You-you yahoos hunt people?"

Paw, the patriarch rapey redneck, sat in a chair between us staring him down with regarding, wary eyes, "You ever killed before?" he asked.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Wh—," he laughed, "Well, that depends on what you mean."

"I've hunted all my life. Just like my father, his before him. I've hunted deer and bear—I even got a cougar once." He explained, a gleam in his eyes, "Oh boy. But the best hunt is human. Oh, there's nothin' like it. Holdin' their life in yer hands. Seein' the fear in their eyes jus' before they go dark. Makes you feel powerful alive."

"You're a sick puppy." Dean muttered to him.

Paw sat back in his chair with a chuckle, "We give 'em a weapon. Give 'em a fightin' chance." He said, "It's kind of like our tradition passed down, father to son. Of course, only one or two a year. Never enough to bring the law down, we never been that sloppy."

Dean laughed, shaking his head at the patriarch, "Yeah, well, don't sell yourself short. You're plenty sloppy."

"So, what, you with that pretty cop?" Paw asked as the little girl looked up to her brother with a smile, "Are you a cop?"

"If I tell you, you promise not to make me into an ashtray?" Dean quipped, earning a dissatisfied look from Paw as Lee walked over and punched Dean. I strained against the ropes with a soft grunt, watching Dean reel from the hit, shaking his head and slowly looked up at him with a chuckle.

"Only reason I don't let my boys take you right here and now is that there's somethin' I need to know." Paw stood up, walking over to the fireplace and picked up a hot poker. I swallowed, staring at the cherry-red end warily.

"Yeah, how 'bout it's not nice to marry your sister?" he joked, putting on a façade.

"Tell me—any of the cops gonna come lookin' for you?" Paw asked, holding the poker near Dean.

"Oh, eat me." He said, then grinned smugly at them, "No, no, no, wait, wait, wait—you actually might."

"You think this is funny? You brought this down on my family!" Paw roared out, holding the poke in his hand tightly. He smirked, looking over at me. I squirmed under his gaze, not liking what he might've hand in mind, when he looked to Dean, "A'ight, you wanna play games? We'll play some games." The patriarch advanced towards me, "I'm gonna take a gander and say you came here for somethin' else…the boy?" he asked, turning back to Dean, "or maybe this little firecracker?" His eyes fell on my stomach and my eyes widened when he reached forward. I shied away as best as I could until his fingertips brushed against my exposed skin, lifting my shirt up a ways, "And she's packin'!"

Dean struggled against his bonds with a murderous look in his eyes, "You lay a finger on her, I swear, I'm gonna…" his voice trailed off when Paw flashed him a wide grin.

"There we are," Paw said with a chuckle, "We might'a hit a nerve after all with this'n." I gulped, "You see, my boy Lee, has takin' an awful good likin' to her." He said, nodding over to the tallest man that had a black eye and a busted nose, "Thinks he can make a housewife outta her, I don't think so personally, too strong-willed."

Dean glared at them with a dark intent flashing in his eyes, "Looks like we're gonna have a hunt tonight after all, boys." He let my shirt fall back over my stomach, turning to his sons with a pleased look in his eyes.

"Okay, wait, wait—look, nobody's comin' for me, alright?" Dean spoke quickly, glancing to me, "It's just us."

"You don't choose, I will." Paw threatened as he brought the poke to my back, burning straight through my clothes and I bit my lip, scrunching my face in pain. I had a high pain tolerance, but when the poker drug from my back to my waist, I couldn't hold it in anymore and screamed, feeling my legs go weak from under me. Paw took the poker away from me, staring directly at Dean.

"Oh, you son of a bitch!" Dean roared out when Lee approached me from behind and nuzzled my head with his face. I swallowed, bringing my head forward and slammed it against his face as hard as I could, only to blink from seeing spots. Lee backed away from me, holding his face with a howl of pain and retaliated, grabbing my hair, holding my head still. Dean stared at him smugly.

"Hold her still!" Paw instructed, "She gonna have to be broke like an animal if she's gonna act like one." He advanced towards me with the poker again, "Next time, I take an eye."

Dean's face paled, "Alright, the guy, the guy!" he cried out, breathing hard, "Take the guy!" Paw removed the poker, as Dean watched on in panic. He took a key from around his neck, tossing it to Jared, "Jared, go do it. Don't let him out, though. Shoot him in the cage." He instructed. Jared nodded, "Jared," he called out, Jared stopping, "When yer done with the boy…shoot the bitch, too." Paw said, as Jared nodded once again, leaving the house.

Dean looked freaked out, "What? I thought you said you were going to hum. You were gonna give him a chance!" He yelled out. I was beyond panic mode when Paw had turned back to me, looking to his son, Lee.

"Have your way with her, Lee." He said, "Jus' don't make too much of a mess of her, I wanna go at 'er later on." I gasped when Lee hoisted me over his shoulder with ease, Dean's mouth gaping in horror.

"Dean!" I yelled out when Lee started to walk into another room.

"Abs!" Dean looked scared, terrified when a gunshot rang out. He had gotten frantic, "You hurt them, I'll kill you, I swear. I'll kill you all. I will kill you all!" I heard him roar out when Lee closed the door behind him, dropping me to the floor. I scooted back, struggling with the ropes; my chest heaving and heart beating a million miles a minute. From the other room, I heard Paw holler for Jared a few times before telling the little girl, Missy, to stay and watch Dean.

Lee approached me, and I glared at him, "Boy, you'd be better off jackin' a bobcat than fuckin' with me." I said coolly, pulling the ropes off of my hands.

* * *

**_Sam's Point of View_**

**_Barn_**

I sat in the cage worried out of my mind for Dean and Abigail's safety. What had happened to them? Were they hurt? I looked up when one of the captures came into the room, walking over to the control panel. I watched with caution as he inserted the key, twisting it.

I rose to my feet, "What are you doing?" I asked and the man walked towards me. I looked over to see the bracket that I had busted loose, lying on the ground and I grabbed it when he opened the door, aiming his gun at me.

"Hey!" Kathleen shouted suddenly, causing him to look at her and turned, offering me the opportunity to lunge forward with the bracket in my hand, and connected my fist into the side of his head, throwing him off balance. The man pulled the trigger as the rifle fired; narrowly missing me as I grabbed it from him, and planted the butt of the rifle into his temple three times.

He crumpled to the floor after I shouldered it, and fired, only to hear a click, "Damn." I cursed, throwing down the rifle and pulled my attacker into the cage, stepping out of it. Crossing the room to the control panel, I started to push buttons until the doors to the cage I was in locked and the other door to Kathleen's cage clicked open. Kathleen pushed it and stepped out.

"C'mon." I urged.

"Jared!" A man's voice called out, "Where are ya? Jared!"

Kathleen and I slipped out of the room and into the main barn.

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_House_**

I couldn't hear Abigail in the other room while the devil spawn that was Missy stood close by with a knife to my face. I looked up at her with a smirk, "What'd you do? Eat mama when she died or did she R-U-N-N-O-F-T'd you when she got the chance?" _Oh lord, Abigail would be eating this up._

She hissed, swiping the blade down against my arm and I grunted out in pain, unbeknownst to her, I had been working on the ropes. I stilled when I heard a considerably loud _thud_ in the room where Abigail had been taken to. For the moment of silence and uneasy stillness, I managed to wriggle my hands free; grabbing Missy's arm with the knife and punched her considerably hard in the face. Her small, haggard form crumpled to the floor like a sack of potatoes as I stood up, taking the knife from her. The door burst open, causing to spin around, holding the knife in position to see Sam standing in the door, breathing heavily.

"Dean." Sam said, rushing forward.

"Sammy?" I asked pulling him into a hug, "I thought they got you." I stepped back, "You good?"

He nodded, "Yeah, yeah. Got one of them locked up, and their old man at gunpoint." I noticed him looking around, "Where's the third one?"

My eyes widened, and I ran to the door, "Abs!" I started to beat on the door, "Abs!"

Sam came to the door and jiggled the handle, "It's locked." I stepped back, kicking it several times with all my weight, finally having Sam join me and the door swung open. The both of us rushed inside, halting to the scene before us.

Abigail was standing in the middle of the room, her hand wrapped tightly around some form of object; blood pouring from her hand. She was trembling, almost like she had been in shock. Lying on the floor, a bloodied mess and not moving, was the Paw's oldest boy, Lee. I looked over to Sam in shock. He swallowed, looking over to me, unsure of what to do.

"Abs." I said gently, breaking some form of trance she was in. Her eyes went wide, her hand tightening over the object, ready to attack again. I could see it in her eyes easily. I held my hands out, "Abs, it's us." She took a step back, "Did he hurt you?"

Abigail fidgeted, shaking her head. I took a step, "It's just me, Abs." I told her again, "And Sam, he's okay." I motioned to Sam, "It's over." Abigail looked between us unsure as I got close enough to reach out and take whatever was in her hands, "It's over," I repeated, glancing down to the bloodied instrument, "I'm gonna take this away, alright? Don't beat me in the head or anything like that." I said, trying to get some form of response, "Okay?"

Slowly, took the object out of her hand, realizing that it was a can of peas. She literally beat the shit out of some guy with a can of peas. I grimaced at the blood on it, allowing it to fall and I pulled her into me, "It's over." I cooed into her ear, when she had finally broken down into hysterical sobs, her arms wrapping around my middle and held on for dear life. I looked back to Sam, nodding my head at him, signaling that she was alright.

"C'mon." I murmured, "We're gonna get you outta here." Abigail nodded slowly when she kept an arm wound tightly around my waist when we stepped out of the room, through the living room, and outside where we met Kathleen leaving the barn.

She looked to us, "Where's the girl?"

"Locked her in a closet." I replied, "What about the dad?"

Kathleen fell silent, her face steeled over, "Shot. Trying to escape." We all exchanged a look that meant one thing that didn't need to have been said. We all knew. Kathleen's eyes fell on Abigail, "Is she going to be alright?"

Sam and I looked to Abigail, "I'm not sure." I said.

"I'm-I'm fine," Abigail croaked out numbly. She nodded to herself as if she needed to reassure herself, "I'm fine, don't feel a thing." She said, indicating the lengthy burn running from her back to her front, and her bloodied hand.

"What about the baby?" I asked.

Her uninjured hand ran across her stomach protectively, "He's fine." She said, "Honestly, the guy didn't bring it to my stomach like I thought he did." She stopped causing us to look at her as she gingerly pulled her shirt below her breasts, exposing the nasty burn that trailed from her back to the middle of her side, near her ribcage. Places were blistered badly, while majority had scabbed over instantly and looked angry red. Out of the four of us, she had definitely taken the brunt of this job.

This wasn't going to happen again. I was going to make sure of it. Somehow, she managed to pull herself through whatever barrier of shock where she smiled a little to reassure me. The cigar burn on her hand had been covered by blood, "We still need to get you to a doctor." I murmured, seeing her smile fall, "I can't let something like this go unchecked," I stated placing my hand against her face, "Not to you."

Sam nodded, "He's right, Abigail. We need to know if he done something to the baby in any way." She bit her lip, then nodded slowly. For once, I was relieve that she was willingly going to the hospital.

Then I remembered something, "I think the car's at the police station." I lamented, seeing Sam look at me with a frown.

Kathleen looked to us, "So, state police and the FBI are gonna be here within the hour. They're gonna wanna talk to you. I suggest that you three are long gone by then." She explained.

I nodded, "Thanks. Hey, listen, I don't mean to press our luck, but we're kind of in the middle of nowhere. Think we could catch a ride?"

"Start walking. Duck if you see a squad car." She replied with a smirk, shaking her head though she showed genuine concern for Abigail, "Take her to the nearest hospital outside of here."

Sam nodded, "Sounds great to me." He said shaking her hand, "Thanks."

"Listen, uh….I'm sorry about your brother." I said.

"Thank you." Kathleen replied, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, "It was really hard not knowing what happened to him. I thought it would be easier once I knew the truth—but it isn't really." She took a deep breath, "Anyway, you should go. Take care of yourself and good luck on your baby."

I nodded, ushering Abigail and Sam ahead of me.

Abigail's adrenaline rush must've ended as she began flexing her hand, looking at it quietly. Sam was on the other side of her. The both of them were uncharacteristically quiet, which was awkward for Sam because he generally bitched about something. But for Abigail—I frowned taking a moment to reflect on the past events, how closed I'd been to losing my brother, my girlfriend, and my son.

Seeing Abigail standing above the man like that had also made me realize that she was definitely tougher than what she looked like, despite being pregnant. I couldn't have been any more proud of her or Sam for being strong through this ordeal.

"Never do that again." I said to them both, earning awkward glances from Sam and Abigail.

"Do what?" Sam asked.

"Go missin' like that." I replied, seeing him chuckle.

"You were worried about us," He snorted out.

I shrugged, "All I'm sayin' is, you two vanish like that again, I'm not lookin' for ya."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Sure, you won't." He said as he continued to walk down the road.

Abigail had fallen silent, staring after Sam, then looked up to me, "I don't want to go through somethin' like that again," she murmured, tears glittering in her eyes, "I've never been so scared in my life."

I pulled her against me, kissing her lips softly, "Me neither." I said, pulling away slightly to stare at her bruised face in guilt for not being there to protect her or Sam. The gravels crunched as Sam turned back to look at us with a smirk.

"So, you got sidelined by a thirteen-year-old girl, huh?" Sam asked.

I rolled my eyes, "Oh, shut up." I called back, seeing Abigail's brows rise in amusement. _There we go._

"Just sayin'," Sam said with a grin.

"Gettin' rusty there, kiddo." Abigail said with a smirk.

I chuckled out of relief to see her joking, "Shut up." I stated with a smile as we walked down the road until we were able to get a ride back into town where I could get the Impala.

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

**_May 19th, 2006_**

**_Hospital—Night/Early Morning_**

I laid in the hospital bed with an IV hooked to my arm, watching _The Lion King_ on Disney out of boredom. Around my middle was a thing that monitored my baby's heart rate and apparently contractions that I didn't have…okay, maybe those Braxton-Hicks ones. Nothing serious though. My right hand sported gauze that hid the burn and few dozen stitches on my knuckles I had received as well as three stitches to my lip. The lengthy burn around my waist received topical burn treatments, while I got the okay from the on-call doctor to get food outside of the hospital during my 'observation' period here.

Dean and Sam came into the room carrying bags of food. I grinned, wincing from the tug of the stitches, "Oh, thank God." I said when I moved over to let Dean plop down beside me in the bed, "I'm so hungry I'm about to fall through my ass and hang myself." Dean chuckled.

"I figured you were," He said digging around in a bag.

I looked over his shoulder eager for food, "What'd you get?"

"Oh, I got the usual." Dean replied pulling out a wrapped burger, "Bacon cheeseburger and fries." My mouth watered at the sight.

"What about me?" I asked.

He motioned over to Sam, "Oh, Sam got you the food." He replied, casually.

I looked over at him, hopeful of something to eat. Sam handed me a Styrofoam box with a smile, "I love you so much, Sammy." I said, opening it to see a salad. I frowned, looking at him, "The hell's this?"

He shrugged, "A salad?"

"This isn't food, Sam." I stated, "This is for rabbits!" I groaned, laying back in the bed and put my hand to my face. Sam and Dean exchanged smug looks as he pulled something else from the bag that I assumed was salad dressing, "Dean, your brother's tryin' to starve me!" I whined out, then looked at him, "After all we've been through, Sammy!"

"You'll be alright." Sam said, "It's just a salad."

I sat up, "Just a salad?" I huffed, "Just a—What am I, chopped liver?" I asked, "I'm a warrior, Sammy! I need food! Baby Winchester needs food!" I flipped open the box again to show Sam the salad despite him and stared at it, seeing that it wasn't a salad, instead it was country fried steak, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a roll. I gawked at it, totally bewildered by the fact that there was a salad just moments before.

Dean was just about to take a bite of his burger and I smacked the back of his head, causing him to help, "What was that for?!"

"For tryin' to get me mad at Sam!" I said, "Sammy wouldn't do that to me."

Sam was giggling in his chair as Dean turned to me with pursed lips, "How'd you even know it was me?!"

"Because you're a dildo, Dean!" I stated, tearing the steak with my fingers and licked them, "A big, floppy one." Dean blinked at my insult as Sam's giggle fit turned into pure laughter at us, though he couldn't help but chuckle at me.

"The shit you say." He said, shaking his head.

I grinned, "Yeah, but you know, you may be so bowlegged you could hem a hog in a ditch, but I do love you and Sammy. And I can't imagine my life without you two."

Sam's laughter quieted down as Dean stared at me softly, "Us either." Dean said, leaning over to kiss me on the corner of the mouth. As he pulled away, he smacked the back of my head.

"What the fuck was that for?" I whined out.

"I'm not _that_ bowlegged, sweetheart." Dean grumbled, turning back to his burger and took a giant bite so that he looked like chipmunk. I laughed quietly at him, picking up a piece of the steak and popped it in my mouth. These two boys were my life. In a few more weeks, there was going to be a third one that I would protect with my life. And there was nothing that I would ever change about it as I looked over to the long sheet of paper that signified my baby's strong heartbeat.

* * *

**Chapter 17, ladies (and gents, if there is any) is out! On a _Supernatural_, Tuesday too! Huzzah! **

**Like I said, I was _so excited_ to get started on this chapter, and out of my love, I got it done in a day in a half! I hope you love this chapter as much as I do! I did make some slight changes to how it ended, but I hope ya'll don't mind!**

**We all saw a little bit of how vicious Abigail could be when backed into a corner, but she also seemed traumatized from it, like she was in a different state of mind. Could we say that she opened up a can of whoop-ass on the Bender boy? **

**Bad pun aside, I think the 'Gibbs/DiNozzo' moment made it in the end, how bout you?**

* * *

**I also want to thank you guys-the readers. I seriously enjoy reading ya'll's reviews, they make me smile and therefore, makes my heart smile. I couldn't ask for any better people! c:**

**Ladysunshine6-Thank you! I told you this wouldn't take me long at all. I was so pumped for it!**

****angelicedg-It was bound to happen for her, since her dreams had been validated by Max's appearance, she's a lot more traumatized and fearing for her life than what she did beforehand! We'll just have to see with the Winchester/Colt wedding, it may be a while for them to consider it. (;****

****Guest\- Thank you!****

******wideawakepastmidnight\- Thank you so much! This means so much to me to be able to do that! We'll just have to wait and see when Mr. Yellow-Eyes shows himself! (;******

****Chella8181**-**** Here you go, m'dear! I hope you enjoyed it! (:**

****ebonywarrior85********\- Thank you! I believe Abigail feels some kind of guilt for not saying something to help Sam feel better about his premonitions, we'll just have to see if she opens up now about her nightmares as the season comes to a close! (;  
****

******SassyGrl23-Thank you! If you remember, Missouri tells them in _Home_ that they're having a boy, hence their decision to not know the gender at the doctor, and Abigail calling him Cody Bryant sometimes, though there _is_ speculation that Cody Bryant may be a Megan Daniella. (;******

* * *

**I'd like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. All credit goes to the respected franchise.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**ALSO. I want everyone to check out my buddy, Ladysunshine6's _first_ fanfiction story, _It Ain't Easy in the Big Easy, _and show her some love and support! I think it would mean a lot to her as a writer and also help get some of those creative juices flowing! It has a lot of promise! I will be posting this at the end of each chapter. She is seriously the best person ever!**

* * *

**This is totally unrelated to _Supernatural_ and _Bad Company._ Rather, this is to _World of Warcraft_! Do we have some Alliance or Horde members on here?! **

**Are we _not_ excited about _Warlords of Draenor_'s release Thursday, cause I'm about to die from the anticipation! With three level 90s (Horde), I'm fit and rearin' to go! **

**If anyone is interested in adding me on RealID, send me a PM! I'll add ya! **

**My realm is Norgannon and I play mostly as Horde, but I do have _some_ Alliance toons that are lower level!**

**Hope to see you guys! **

**_Lok'tar Ogar!_ c:**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles! c:**

* * *

**Updated: November 11. 2014. **

**Gawd! 100 Reviews?! Yasss! This has got to be the best thing to wake up to! Thank you everyone to help make this happen! c:**


	19. Shadows

_**May 21st, 2006**_

_**Charleston, West Virginia**_

_**Charlie's House**_

I was seriously more than ready to get out of the hospital by the time the doctor had walked in to tell me that I was good to go. I couldn't have gotten out of that place any quicker if it wasn't for the fact that I had to ride out in a stupid wheelchair. Dean, Sam, and I made the decision to take a break from our hectic lives; especially since what had happened back in Hibbing, Minnesota. It was a sixteen hour drive back to Charlie's, but I think we made perfect timing since Kara was due to have Gavin in less than two days.

Dean and I woke up in our room the next morning in a tangle of sheets. Rather, Dean woke me up with gentle kisses to my shoulders and neck. I laughed tiredly, rolling carefully onto my left side to face him. He smiled at me, trailing his fingers down the side of my face and kissed me tenderly on the lips, "Mornin' sunshine."

I hummed, breaking the sweet kiss with a soft smile, "Mornin'."

Dean gently pulled me into his arms, pulling the comforter that we had shoved to the foot of the bed till it was over our heads, and blocking out the early morning sun, "You sleep alright?" he asked.

I nodded, "Yeah. Not one nightmare in sight." I replied, seeing a relieved glimmer in his eyes.

"What about your side?" He asked.

"Sore." I said, running my bandaged hand against his side where he gently took it in his hand, bringing it up to his lips where he placed a gentle kiss to my bruised and battered knuckles. I smiled at how gentle he could be, however, despite the relieved looks and gentle disposition, I knew Dean was beating himself up for not being there sooner.

"I'm sorry." He said.

I furrowed my brows at him, "Dean…you don't have to apologize."

"Abs, I am." He said, knitting his brows with regret, "I let you get hurt. I should've—I should've followed you two out to the car and maybe this," he lifted my hand up, "and that burn wouldn't have happened." His eyes fell to my stomach, pulling his lips into a thin line, "Abs, if he hurt you any more than what had happened, I would've killed them all."

I nodded falling silent, "But he didn't."

He nodded slowly, "No, he didn't." he agreed.

"I want you to stop beatin' yourself up like this, Dean." I said, taking my hand and placed it against his stubbled cheek, "We're fine." Troubled eyes stared back at me, "Sammy's fine. I'm fine and Cody is fine. You heard the doctor the other day." Dean nodded again, then sighed, "Dean, you don't realize how much we love you; Sammy and me."

The corner of his lips twitched, "I think I do."

I stared at him for a moment, "Then act like you do instead of bein' such a woman."

Dean rolled onto his back, pulling the covers away with a playful scoff, "Me? A woman?"

I grinned at him, "I'm pregnant and I don't act all melodramatic like you."

He looked over to me, "You think so?"

"Why yeah." I replied, then I rose up and slid on top; straddling him, "You say no chick-flicks, but we have them all the time." Dean snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sure we do." He quipped, running his hands along my back. I laughed at him, watching as he rested his hands on both sides of my stomach and stared at it softly before looking up at me, "You really think I'm gonna be a good dad?"

I nodded, "Yeah."

"Despite everything?" He asked.

"You do your best to protect us," I said honestly, "You do what you gotta do." I leaned forward, resting on my arms, "You're gonna be a great dad, if not a thousand times better than Dad."

"You really think so?"

"If I'm lyin', I'm dyin." I stated with a smile, kissing him on the tip of the nose. Dean had fallen silent, staring up at me like I had given him the greatest present ever. His hands rose up, capturing my face and pulled me down to his lips. To feel him against me was the best feelings in the world other than feeling my baby kick, flip around, and do judo on my bladder. One of his hands went from my face to my leg where he rose up and slowly put me on my back, where he placed himself on top—ensuring that he didn't place too much pressure on my stomach, and gazed at my body.

I shifted underneath him, uncomfortable about it. I knew I was getting big fairly quick, somehow, I didn't like to be stared at. Dean placed a hand against my cheek, "You're beautiful…you know that?" He said lightly.

I looked up at him, shocked, "Really?"

"Yeah," he replied, "I don't see what you see in me, but what I see in you Abs…it's indescribable." I smiled up at him, completely thrown off by him. My heart swelled with so much love to the point it felt like it could burst. He rested his head against mine, staring at me with love radiating in his eyes.

"Dean, you're everythin' a girl could ever want. I feel like I want to choke you out until your eyes pop out, but who doesn't? It's a perk of yours." I brushed the pad of my thumb against his bottom lip softly, staring at them and back up at him, "You think you're some ruthless killin' machine."

"I am." He lamented, "That's why I can't bring myself to understand why you even want me."

I shook my head, "All I see is someone who would die to protect his family, come hell or high water, and that's why I think you're gonna be a great dad. You're gonna stop at nothin' to protect us."

Dean laid down beside me, silent. For a moment, I thought he was going to cry or something. Instead he just nodded. I patted his arm gently, kissing him on the forehead before I got up. He watched me pad over to our bag and pull out a pair of shorts, a white camisole, and a baggy gray shirt; along with matching lace underwear that Dean enjoyed staring at.

"You sure you don't wanna just lay here for another five minutes?" Dean asked suddenly.

I turned, pulling on my shirt, "Nah. It's too pretty to stay in. Besides, I want food." I lifted my shoulders in a shrug, "Who knows? I might even cook somethin' fit for kings."

Dean sat up with his brows raised, "No, no. I better go with you."

I scoffed, "What for?"

He grabbed some clothes from the bag as well, "You might burn yourself."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm a big girl, Dean. I can tie my own shoes and everythin'." He laughed at me, noticing that I had tucked the front part of my shirt into my shorts, allowing my stomach to show. I stood up on my tip toes and kissed him, "Now, I'm gonna go find somethin'."

"Nope." He said.

"Uh, yeah." I said, heading for the door and he followed me, pulling his shirt over his head.

* * *

Needless to say, my cooking attempts were foiled by Dean, Sam, and Charlie. I lived amongst a bunch of traitors, so instead, I joined Kara on the porch swing. It was so warm out today; the sun was out shining brightly, the sky bordered by the mountains that traveled off into the horizon into a series of blues that seemed to have melded in with the cloudless sky made it perfect weather to get out. For her to be two days away from having a baby, she was in high spirits, still hyper as ever. Her rotund belly was definitely a sight to behold. From behind, she looked like a twig, but when she turned to her side, you'd think she was smuggling a watermelon.

Sitting down, Kara looked over to me with a smile, "How you feelin'?"

"Other than being a walking punchin' bag," I said feeling a swift kick to my side, "I can't complain."

She laughed, "Oh, that's nothing! Rib kicks are so much fun!"

"Oh, I'm sure they are." I replied with a chuckle then looked out at the vast spread of mountains, "You nervous?"

She shook her head with a smile, "Nah. I know everything is going to go fine."

"I'd be scared shitless," I admitted, "I'm more scared about not being ready."

"I don't think anyone is ever _ready_." Kara replied, "I guess we just have to make do with what we got." I nodded, noticing a guitar sitting nearby, "Charlie plays for me and Gavin all the time. He must've left it this mornin'."

I laughed, "I haven't played much since we were here last."

Kara's smile didn't waver, "Go get it and play. I want to hear you sing."

"I don't sing well," I said, meeting her arched brow and I laughed holding my hands up in defeat, "Okay." I got up and picked up the guitar, "I'll play somethin'." Sitting back beside her, I rested the instrument on my leg, situating it to where I could be comfortable playing, and strummed a few chords while thinking until I started strumming to _Take It to the Limit, _and that was what I stuck with.

"_All alone at the end of the evening, and the bright lights have faded to blue, I was thinking 'bout a woman who might have loved me and I never knew. You know I've always been a dreamer (spent my life running 'round), and it's so hard to change (Can't seem to settle down), but the dreams I've seen lately, Keep on turning out and burning out, and turning out the same_…" I sang out, not noticing that all three men had walked out, "_So put me on a highway…And show me a sign…And take it to the limit one more time…_"

Dean sat down across from me with an excited expression across his face that Sam matched when he had sat down in a chair. Dean and Kara didn't waste any time joining in, causing me to smile at them and continued. Charlie even joined in, taking it upon himself to try and hit the high notes where we all started laughing. Looking at Dean though, I could see his eyes glitter like a little kid's…like, he had fallen completely head over heels for me again. With that thought in my head, I started to play _Bless the Broken Road_, and Dean's face turned pink when Sam nudged him in the side with a teasing grin on his face.

Dean started laughing, covering his face with his hands, though he looked back up at me with a grin. I must've played for at least an hour until Charlie had shooed us back inside for food, finding out that Dean, Sam, and him had made enough for an army. Seriously! There was eggs; scrambled, egg whites, and sunny side up made. Bacon, pork tenderloin, biscuits, chocolate gravy. My mouth watered at the sight.

"Who made what?" I asked.

"Sam made the eggs, Dean made everythin' that is meat, and I made the biscuits and chocolate gravy, since I know that's yer fav'rite." Charlie said. I stared at the dark stuff in the pot and grinned, "I know you ain't had it in a few years."

"No, I haven't." I lamented, wrapping my arms around my uncle, "Not since mom was alive." Dean and Sam looked at me with tiny frowns, upon seeing them, I smiled at them, "I can't thank you boys enough for _this_." They all grinned, "But, I think ya'll made enough to eat on till our kids grow up."

Sam chuckled, "Well, you and Kara sit down, we'll bring it to you."

Kara and I looked at each other with our brows raised. I was about to object until Kara grabbed my arm and pulled me to the table. It wasn't long that Sam had come by with my plate with the contents of: a pork tenderloin, egg whites, a biscuit and a small bowl of chocolate gravy. I had never been so thrilled over the fact that I had food, "You mean you're gonna eat this too, Sammy?" I asked.

He chuckled, "Yeah."

"Bout time!" I chirped, "You have no idea how much I appreciate this."

He looked to me with a soft expression, "I do. Now, eat."

I snorted at him when Dean came by with Kara's plate which was piled full of stuff. Her brows rose up and looked at him, amused.

He shrugged, "Baby's gotta eat too."

I laughed, taking the bowl of chocolate gravy and dumped it over _everything_ on my plate. By the time the men had sat down with their plates, Dean stared at me, unsure of what I had done, then looked down at the gravy, slightly grossed out.

"Is this stuff gonna poison me if I eat it?" He muttered, learning over to me. I shook my head furiously with wide eyes.

"_No_!" I said in a hushed voice, "It's _so_ good! Make ya tongue beat ya brains out."

Dean snickered, "Alright, I trust your clouded pregnancy hormone judgment."

I snorted at him, "Don't just dip it, you gotta smother everythin'." Dean rolled his eyes, taking the bowl he had and drizzled it over his plate and picked up a piece of pork taking a bite. I stared at him, waiting to see how he liked it, and I wasn't disappointed. After the first bite, he didn't stop eating and scarfed it down quickly, before _I_ was even done. We all started to laugh at him due to a brown ring around his mouth.

"Laugh it up," Dean said with a smirk, "It was good."

"Told you." I stated with a smug look on my face.

* * *

_**May 22**__**nd**__**, 2006**_

_**Charlie's House—Early Morning**_

It had to be a little after three in the morning when someone knocking on the door woke us up. Dean rolled over with a groan, piling a pillow over his head as I slowly got up, answering the door.

I furrowed my brows upon seeing Kara. She looked utterly uncomfortable, "Hey. You okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah, just…my water broke." My mouth dropped.

"Are you serious?" I asked, looking over to Dean's sleeping form, "You goin' to the hospital?"

"Yeah, Charlie's getting our bags ready." She smiled at me, "He's running around like a chicken with his head cut off." I laughed with her, then saw her face scrunch in pain, "its fine." She reassured me, "Just a contraction." I nodded, biting my lip. _How could she be so calm about this?!_ I thought. I'd be like my uncle, running around in panic mode. I felt her touch my arm, "You should get ready too if you want to go with us."

I nodded again, "Yeah. Sure thing." She smiled, clapping her hands together in excitement. I envied her a little bit. Watching her walk down the hallway to her room again, I turned around and flipped the switch to the light. Dean jumped, letting out a groan of displeasure.

"_Abs_." He groaned out, slowly rising up, "What's going on?"

I rummaged through the bag, "Kara's water broke." I replied.

"You're kidding me." He said, alert.

"No…she's a trooper, that's for sure." I said, seeing him get out of bed and join me, finding random clothes.

"What about Charlie?" He asked.

"Runnin' around like a chicken with his head cut off," I repeated Kara's words to him, "I'd be doing the same thing."

Dean shook his head, pulling his pants up, "No you wouldn't."

I arched a brow, "And what makes you say that?"

"Cause, that'd be my job." He replied with a smile, tugging his shirt over his head, "The day you go into labor, you leave everything to me. It wouldn't matter what it was."

I smiled at him, "Seriously?"

"As a heart attack." He promised, kissing me on the lips, "Whatever makes it easier on you and the baby."

* * *

_**17 hours later**_

_**CAMC-Women's and Children's Hospital**_

_**Charleston, West Virginia**_

Sam, Dean, and I sat out in the waiting area a total nervous wreck. Kara had been in labor for almost eighteen hours with no meds, already dilated to nine and almost ready to push. Gavin Colt was almost here.

"God, can you imagine the pain she's in?" Sam asked us with a shake of his head.

"I'd rather not think about it, Sam." I stated, tapping my foot anxiously, "Pregnant woman sittin' here, remember?"

He smiled at me apologetically, looking back to his laptop and gazed at it for a moment, "So, I think I might've found us a case." He said changing the subject.

Dean leaned forward, "Oh?"

"Yeah, so, get this." Sam continued, "A week ago a woman in Chicago died from within her apartment—slashed and mauled, like some animal had gotten in there."

Dean shrugged, "So a raccoon got in and tore up the lady, it's Chicago, dude."

"Yeah, but the thing is, the apartment was sealed tight, no signs of a forced entry." Sam said. Dean furrowed his brows, reaching out for Sam to give him the laptop. Sitting beside Dean, I leaned over to look at the screen, scanning the proposed case. It was odd, that was for sure. After a few minutes, Dean nodded handing it back to him.

"Alright," he said, "We'll go check it out. It's in Chicago, so it'll be what? An eight hour drive?"

I nodded, "Yeah, give or take. Just a hop, skip, and a jump away." Dean looked at me with an arched brow. I knew that look, "Oh, come on." I groaned out.

Dean pulled a face, "I gotta, Abs. The crap that happened to you back in Hibbing, I can't let something like that happen again."

I looked over to Sam with a frown, "Sammy, say somethin'." Instead, he gave me his puppy-dog look and I groaned, "Not you, too."

"Dean's right, Abigail." Sam said lightly, "You got pretty banged up. I mean, look at your hand." I looked down at the bandage with a frown.

I shrugged, "It's just a flesh wound."

Dean looked over at me with a stony look, "Oh, don't you pull that Monty Python crap on me."

"'Tis but a scratch!" I argued in my best Black Knight voice.

Dean shook his head, failing miserably at keeping a straight face along with Sam, "Abs, I can't. You got a couple dozen stitches in your hand." He found his composure again, "You're not going anywhere till I know that you're good and healed."

I rolled my eyes, "You two are no fun."

The pair of doors separating us from the delivery room swung open as the three of us turned to see Charlie step out with a tears in his eyes.

"How'd everything go?" Dean asked.

Charlie grinned from ear to ear, "He's beautiful. Seven pound, ten ounces of Colt." I grinned standing up to give him a hug, "They're cleanin' him up right now," he explained nodding to the closed blinds of the nursery, "They should be openin' it up anytime."

We nodded, glancing to the large window occasionally out of excitement to see the newest addition. When the blinds opened; the four of us rushed over to the window with our breaths held, seeing a teeny little thing pulling the best Blue Steel I've ever seen.

"Congratulations, Charlie." Sam said, patting him on the shoulder.

I nudged Dean, staring at my baby cousin, "Not even an hour old and he does the Blue Steel better than you."

Charlie and Dean laughed, "Just think, you'll be lookin' in this window a few months from now, starin' at a masterpiece." Charlie said, clapping his hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean looked up at him with mixed emotions, "Best damn feelin' in the world, lemme tell ya." He added softly staring at his son through the window, "I'm gonna check on Kara, see if it's okay for ya'll to come back an see 'er."

Sam nodded, "Of course. Congratulations again, Charlie."

He smiled at us, "Thank you." Hitting the button to open the doors, they swung open and he walked back; no later than two minutes, he rushed out waving us back in. We wasted no time getting past the doors as they closed together.

Inside the cramped room, Kara looked to us tiredly and smiled, "Hey, guys." Charlie went to her side and kissed the top of her head, "You guys seem 'im?"

I nodded, "He's beautiful."

Kara gave us a lop-side grin, "Thank you." She muttered, "Just think, Abigail. You'll be in this position soon."

"Yeah, but it can take it's time." I replied seeing her chuckle.

"Doctor said Gavin would be back here in a lil while, if you guys want to hold him." She said, looking to Dean and I, then to Sam, "Get a taste of parenthood."

"We don't want to impose," Sam said with a smile, "I'm sure we'll see him quite a bit."

"You guys better." Charlie said staring me down, "I mean it."

Dean nodded, "Of course, we'll see you guys every chance we get."

"Good." Charlie said, folding his arms, "Which leads me to say this;" Sam, Dean, and I exchanged worried looks, "Kara and I were both talkin' the other day…"

"And we want you to stay with us when the baby's born." Kara finished with a grin, "Isn't that great?"

I couldn't breathe. _Did they just say that?_ I looked over to Dean, fighting off a whirlwind of mixed emotions seeing a troubled look in his eyes about it. Sam, on the other hand looked, thrilled. The only thing I could do was smile, "Thank you, guys…really."

Kara smiled, "That'd give Gavin someone to play with while you guys go on your jobs, sometimes Abby could stay back with me and watch them."

"Yeah, of course." Dean said lightly, trying to find the words to say something. This was beginning to become surreal.

Forty-five minutes passed when the nurses wheeled back Gavin in a little bassinet. I couldn't help it, I gushed endlessly about him when I got to hold him. I even caught a gentle look from Dean and Sam as if they were thinking the same thing. I decided to ignore them and made Dean come over to hold him. Needless to say, the man needed acquainting with a baby. He was so awkward about it—making several comments about how small he was or that he was gonna break him or something to that extent. Sam did about the same thing I did and gushed over him.

The next day, as bad as we hated to, left for Chicago.

* * *

_**May 23**__**rd**__**, 2006**_

_**Chicago, Illinois**_

_**Apartment—Day**_

I shifted uncomfortably in my heels, looking to both boys as they stepped out of the car, dressed as employees of the alarm system company we were 'working' for. Thankfully I didn't have to dress like them, so I chose to pass off as a manager. As Dean walked past me, he swatted my left ass-cheek, causing me to jump. He looked back at me as he opened the trunk to get a toolbox with a smug look, winking.

"Alright, guys." Sam said, looking up at the building, "This is the place."

Dean shifted his shoulders walking alongside me, "You know, I've gotta say when Abs and I were working with Dad, we did just fine without these stupid costumes." He complained, "I feel like a high school drama dork." The corner of his eyes wrinkled in amusement when he smiled, "What was that play that you did, Sam?" He furrowed his brows in thought, "What was it – Our Town." He grinned at him, "Yeah, you were good, it was cute."

Sam blew out a sigh, "Look, you wanna pull this off or not?"

Dean shrugged, "I'm just sayin', these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?"

"Whose?" He asked with a knowing smirk.

Dean motioned to himself and me, "_Ours_. You think credit card fraud is easy?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Yeah, and Charlie doesn't give us prepaid debit cards with money on it." Dean pursed his lips, shaking his head at something. I frowned, knowing why he suddenly got quiet. Entering the apartment complex, we approached the landlady, explaining that we were from the alarm system company, she was more than happy to give us a grand tour.

I smiled to the landlady as she opened the door to the apartment, "Thanks for lettin' us look around." I said, peering over my glasses.

"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so…" She explained as Sam and I walked further into the apartment with her. I looked around, taking mental notes of the blood spatter, however, I felt uneasy about being in this room. Dean closed the door behind us as she turned to look at Sam and I, "You guys said you were with the alarm company?"

Dean nodded, "That's right."

She turned to me, hence my managerial position, "Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man." I pressed my lips together to prevent myself from laughing, though, I was thoroughly amused at the exchange of looks Dean and Sam had. I really liked this woman; she was sassy.

Dean looked around, glancing over his shoulder at her, "Well, that's why we're here. To see what went wrong and stop it from happening again."

Sam looked to her, "Now, ma'am, you found the body?" he asked.

She nodded, "Yeah."

"Right after it happened?" Sam asked.

The landlady shook her head, "No. Few days later. Meredith's work called—she hadn't shown up. I knocked on the door." She grimaced at the memory, "That's when I noticed the smell."

Dean turned towards her after gazing out the window, to the street, "Any windows open? Any sign of break-in?" He asked.

Again, the landlady shook her head, "No, windows were locked, front door was bolted. Chain was on the door, we had to cut it just to get in."

I wrote everything down, glancing up at her, "And the alarm was still on?"

"Like I said, bang-up job your company's doin'." She replied with pursed lips.

I nodded, writing something else down with a hum, "You see any overturned furniture, broken glass, signs of struggle?" She shook her head.

"Everything was in perfect condition—except Meredith."

"And what condition was Meredith in? Sam asked.

"Meredith was all over. In pieces. The guy who killed her must have been some kind of a whackjob. But I tell you, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said a wild animal did it." She said as Dean looked to me with his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time?" Sam asked, "Give this place a once-over?"

"Oh, well, go right ahead. Knock yourself out." She said with a nod, leaving us to get to work. I stepped gingerly over the blood spatters, knowing that Dean and Sam were waiting for me to do something.

"You getting' anything, Abs?" Dean asked.

_How'd I know he'd ask?_ "Nothin' yet." I murmured, touching the wall. Like a jolt, I gasped.

_Meredith burst into her apartment, pale faced with terror. Quickly she locked her door, and entered code to her alarm system. The small screen flashed stating that the system was disarmed. Another code and it flashed, stating that it was armed. In a sigh of relief, she left the room walking to a kitchen to get a beer from the fridge after setting down her bag and keys. _

_I frowned, looking around the room searching for some sign of a threat. I couldn't see a thing. Following her into the living room, I watched her listen to messages on her answering machine taking a sip of her beer. Judging from the voicemail from a Kristen, something had gone down previously._

_Then something caught my eye to the right of me on the wall. It was a shadow of some sort that had developed into a swirling cloud of smoke before it morphed into a silhouette of a tall, skinny creature as it approached Meredith's shadow. I jumped, covering my mouth when it dug it's long, sharp-nailed hand through her chest as blood splattered on the wall—Meredith falling to the ground in a heap._

"Abs!" I heard Dean's alarmed voice, "Say something."

I blinked, realizing that Dean and Sam had me on the floor, "What happened?" I asked, struggling to hold my hand to my face.

"You bugged out." Dean replied, "Like, when Sam bugs out with is premonitions…" His brows pulled together, "What'd you see?"

I shook my head trying to recollect my thoughts, "It was like…somethin' killed her in a shadow."

"Something killed her in a shadow?" Dean asked in a disbelieving tone, "That's what you bugged out on?" I frowned at him, "That's one option." He said, straightening up. Sam helped me to my feet, keeping his hand firmly on my arm as means of support, "So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment—no weapons, no prints, nothin'. It would explain it…"

"I'm tellin' ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig." Sam said, as the EMF meter started to beep frantically in Dean's hands, "You good?" Sam asked.

I nodded, "Yeah…I'm fine." Then glanced at my hand upon feeling a burning sensation. I frowned at it, seeing blood dot the gauze and I folded my arms.

"I think I agree with you." Dean said distractedly.

"So, you talked to the cops?" Sam asked.

Dean looked up at us, "Uh, yeah." His lips twitched into a smirk, "I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law." I rolled my eyes gaining balance of myself.

"What'd you find out?" I asked.

Dean sighed dreamily, "Well, she's a Sagittarius—perfect for Francis over there." He said, jabbing a thumb in Sam's direction, "She loves tequila, I mean—wow. Oh, and she's got this little tattoo—."

"Dean!" Sam chided. Despite the flashback attack, I laughed when Dean continued his teasing by turning and reaching behind his lower back to show Sam where the tattoo had been.

He looked back at him at him innocently, "What?" He then turned towards us, "Yeah. Uh, nothin' we don't already know. Except for one thing they're keepin' out of the papers and that little shadow thing." Sam and I looked at him to continue, "Meredith's heart was missing."

I furrowed my brows, "Her _heart?_"

He nodded, "Yeah. Her heart."

"So, what do you think did it to her?" Sam asked.

"Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was—werewolf?" Dean suggested.

I shook my head, "No, no werewolf, the lunar cycle's not right." I muttered, "Plus, if it was a creature, it would've left some kind of trace. It's probably a spirit."

Dean observed the blood on the carpet and blinked a couple of times as if he noticed something, motioning to Sam, "See if you can find any masking tape around." He instructed.

Ten minutes later, Dean was tracing a pattern between the blood splatters with masking tape as Sam and I watched it slowly piece itself together. When he was finished, the three of us stood back to look at the finished product—it was an unusual symbol that I didn't recognize.

"Ever see that symbol before?" Sam asked.

"Never." Dean replied.

"Me neither." I added, exchanging a look with them.

* * *

_**Dean's Point of View**_

_**Bar—Night**_

Sammy boy and I decided to swing by the local bar where Meredith used to work at and ask some questions. It felt awkward not having Abigail with us, but I guess the tides of change was falling sooner than what I had hoped. After chatting up an attractive bartender, I spotted Sam entering and downed the shot with a grimace, "See ya." I said as I crossed the room to join him at the table as he leafed through Dad's journal, "I talked to the bartender." I said, sitting down across from him.

Sam arched his brow, "Did you get anything? Besides her number?"

I snorted, "Dude, I'm a professional and a soon-to-be dad. I'm offended that you would think that." Sam arched his brow at me with a knowing look and I caved, I smiled sliding over a napkin to him, "It's for you, sheesh."

"Anything else?" He asked, taking napkin from its place with a roll of his eyes.

"Huh? Look, there's nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died," I shrugged, "so—what about that symbol, you find anything?"

Sam shook his head, "Nope, nothing. It wasn't in Dad's journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess."

"Hopefully Abs found something out as well." I stated folding my arms on the table, "Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?"

"Right. Yeah." He said pulling out a newspaper clipping concerning the first death, "His name was, uh—his name was Ben Swardstrom." I took the clipping from Sam, glancing at it, "Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal—the door was locked, the alarm was on."

"Is there any connection between the two of them and Abigail's little—" I motioned my hands like an explosion, "episode?"

"Not that I can tell—I mean, not yet, at least." Sam replied with a small frown. I could tell that he'd been concerned for her since Hibbing. A flush of relief went through me at that, "Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds."

I nodded, rubbing my mouth with my hand, "So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number." I smirked at him before realizing that he was staring at something at the other side of the room. I looked around, half-expecting Abigail to be there, "What?" I asked.

Suddenly, Sam was to his feet walking across the bar, "Sam?" I called out to him, watching him closely as he walked up to a pretty little blonde with her back facing him. With interest, I smirked upon seeing her smile and wrap her arms around him in an embrace, "Well, I'll be damned." I said, "That's my boy."

I decided to join Sam, hearing the girl chat about where she came from, along with the odds of them running into each other again. I cleared my throat in hopes of capturing Sam's attention.

"Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again." Sam said to her.

The little blonde smiled at him, "Well, I'm glad you were wrong." Sam's head bobbed in a nod. I pursed my lips at him and cleared my throat again, louder this time. Jeez, if looks could kill. The blond glared at me, "Dude, cover your mouth."

Sam turned, surprised by me standing there, "Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean." He said. _Meg_ stared at him surprised.

"This is Dean?" She asked. I smiled at her, then noticed her looking over the crowd, "Then, so, Abigail mustn't be too far behind."

"Yeah, and actually, no." Sam said, "She isn't…she's pregnant so she tries to stay away from bars." Meg nodded in understanding, though if you asked me, she appeared to have been contemplating something.

"So, you've heard of me?" I asked her. The way she looked at me, I didn't really like it. There was something different about this girl.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard of you. Nice—the way you treat your brother like luggage." I furrowed my brows at this in confusion.

"Sorry?" I asked, inclining my head.

"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth." She snapped.

Sam looked embarrassed, "Meg, it's all right." He said lightly. The three of us stood in silence.

I shook my head with a low whistle, "Okay, awkward. I'm gonna get a drink now, and check on Abigail." I threw Sam a puzzled look and shook my head once more, taking my cell out to call Abs.

It was only a couple of rings when she picked up, "_Joe's Hoes._" She greeted.

I chuckled, "Well, aren't you in a good mood."

"_Of course, why shouldn't I be?_" She asked, "_Being pregnant and sober is totally cool…so is watchin' reruns of Spongebob Squarepants and now Full House._"

"Seriously, Abs?" I asked.

Abigail hummed before giggling at something, "_This is the life, I'm tellin' ya. Did you find anythin' out?_"

I blew out a breath, "Nothing we already know. Got Sammy a number though."

"_That doesn't surprise me._"

"Yeah, so…" I began, only to trail off.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Ah, nothing. Same old, same old." I said, "Apparently Sam found a girl he met while he was going to California in this bar."

"_Ooh, do tell._" Abs said with a smile in her voice.

"Apparently _our_ brother talks crap about me," I replied in a dry tone, "Jeez, you shoulda seen her. If looks could kill, I'd be dead."

I heard her hiss a breath, "_Ooh, trouble with the ladies? Somethin' is bad, Dean._"

I rolled my eyes at her, "Oh, ha, ha." I said sarcastically, "But seriously Abs, pretty little thing with a nasty bite. Sounds like you."

Abigail snorted, "_Kiss my lily-white ass, Winchester._"

"Anytime, sweet cheeks." I quipped with a smirk, "Anyways, we shouldn't be here anymore than what we are, I'll see you in a little bit."

"'_kay_," She replied, "_Be careful._"

"Always." I said, hanging up to see Sam approaching me with an apologetic look on his face. I shoved the phone into my pocket and headed outside, "Who the hell was she?"

Sam shrugged, "I don't really know. I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird."

"And what was she saying?" I asked, "I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick? What have you been sayin about Abigail?"

"Nothing." He said quickly, "Look, I'm sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—,"

I stopped, looking at Sam, "Well, is there any truth to what she's saying?" I challenged him, "I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?"

Sam frowned, looking agitated, "No, of course not. Now, would you listen?"

"What?"

"I think there's somethin' strange going on here, Dean." He said, "Maybe, Abigail is onto something, but she just doesn't know _what_ exactly."

"Yeah, tell me about it." I said, "The girl wasn't even that into me."

Sam rolled his eyes at me, "No, man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead."

I frowned, "Why do you say that?"

"I met Meg _weeks_ ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?"

I shrugged, "I don't know, random coincidence. It happens."

"Yeah, it happens, but not to us." Sam stated, "Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on." I smirked.

"Well, I bet you'd like to." I replied smugly, "I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" Sam rolled his eyes again and laugh, "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?" I tapped my head and grinned at him, then the happy, playful little thing my brother was vanished and turned into the pain in the ass brother he always been.

Stick. In. The. Mud, lemme tell ya.

He pulled out his phone, dialing a number. I arched my brow at him in curiosity, "Hey, Abigail." I watched him intently, "Do me a favor. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor." He fell silent, then glanced at me with a dark look, "I didn't bitch to some girl, Abs." Sam said quickly, "Just let me—" He paused pulling his lips into a thin line, "Yeah, but—" Sam sighed, looking to the concrete, "I didn't say anything about—" He nodded with a chastised expression, "Okay. Fine…just, will you do that for me?" He asked lightly, "Okay…thanks. Always."

I stared at him like I didn't know what was going on, "What are you gonna do?" I asked when Sam put away his phone.

"I'm gonna watch Meg." He replied simply.

I started laughing, "Yeah, you are."

"I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry."

I raised my hands, "All right, you little pervert."

There was that little bitchface of his, "Dude." He deadpanned as I grinned.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'. I'll be at the motel with Abs," I said crossing the street, leaving my brother behind.

"This isn't over with you telling Abigail about what Meg said," He called out. I waved my arm behind me dismissively. _That's what he thinks_.

* * *

_**Abigail's Point of View**_

_**Motel Room—Night**_

I sat on the laptop chewing the end of a pen, researching Meg and that peculiar symbol while Dean sat beside me watching an episode of that stupid soap opera, _Dr. Sexy, M.D._ I reached over him to get my cellphone.

"Find anything?" He asked, as I sat back down.

"It's interestin'," I said dialing Sam's number.

He picked up on the phone on the first ring, "_Hey_."

I smirked, "Lemme guess, Sammy. You're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?"

He sighed, "_No_." I pursed my lips, seeing the cocky look from Dean, "_Yes, did Dean tell you?"_

I chuckled, "Oh my lord, that's a little creepy, Sammy. You've got a funny way of showin' your affection." Dean snickered beside me.

Sam blew out an irritated sigh, "_I'm gonna kill him._" I snorted in amusement, "_Did you find anything on her or what?_"

I clicked my tongue, "Sorry, bubby, she checks out." I replied, closing the lid to the laptop, "There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phonebook. I even pulled up her high school photo."

Dean snatched my cellphone from me with a grin, "Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?" Dean pursed his lips at his failed attempt to aggravate his brother, "Yeah…that Abs did have some luck with." He picked up a piece of paper, "It's, uh—turns out its Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It's a sigil for a Daeva."

Dean shrugged, "It translates to "demon of darkness". Zoroastrian demons, and they're savage, animalistic, you know, nasty attitudes—kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls." Dean looked like Sam had offended him on something, "Give me some credit, man. You don't have a corner on paper chasin' around here." Pause, "No, Abigail didn't find it for me. I'm perfectly capable of finding things myself."

I watched in amusement as Dean sighed with a defeated look, "No, I actually called Dad's friend, Caleb when I got back to the room. He told Abs, alright."

I reached out for my phone, to which Dean handed back as his show came back on, "Anyway, here's the thing—these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured."

"_So, someone's controlling it?_" Sam asked.

I shrugged, "Yeah, that's what I'm guessin'. And, from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos."

"_So, what do they look like?_"

I tilted my head to the side with a 'eh' sound coming out of my mouth, "Well, nobody knows, but nobody's seen 'em for a couple of millennia. I mean, summonin' a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town." I said with a frown, "For all I know, that shadow thing I saw kill Meredith could be it."

Sam hummed into the phone. I rolled my eyes, handing over the phone to Dean. He grinned, "Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?" He chuckled, "No, bite her. Don't leave teeth marks, though—," He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it, confused, "Sam? Are you—?" Dean shook his head, hanging up the phone and set it on the table.

"Sammy hang up on you?" I asked, setting the laptop on Sam's bed before lifting my shirt up and over my stomach. Dean rolled over onto his side, seeing the healing burn on my side.

"Yeah, but he's being his pervy old self," He said, reaching over to place his hand on my stomach. I took his hand, directing it over to my left side where he could feel where the baby was at. It warmed my heart to see how interactive and curious he was about the pregnancy, especially seeing the ultrasounds and hearing me talk about what the baby did inside of me. I knew a part of him wanted to understand what I went through better—to feel what I felt, "What's he doin' now?"

I shrugged, "Nothing, I think he's asleep." Then I felt a little twinge, it was sharp like a hiccup. I grinned, looking down at my stomach.

Dean sat up on his elbow, "What?"

"I think he's got the hiccups." I said, feeling another twinge and a swift kick, "_And_ now he's mad."

Dean chuckled, keeping his hand on my stomach, pressing down, "So, what part am I pressing down on?"

I pursed my lips, feeling for myself to determine where the baby was situated, "Uh…his butt probably." Dean smiled as he rubbed my stomach tenderly, "Just think, this city's where it all began."

"What, besides getting mauled by a black dog?" He asked, looking up at me through his lashes.

"If that's a way to get your attention," I smirked upon catching his arched brow, "But in all seriousness, something good came out of it."

He hummed, keeping his hand on my stomach, "And what's that?"

"Us." I said simply meeting his gaze, "And this—," I placed my hand on top of his where the baby was situated at, "is us. This…this is what we did together, Dean."

"Yeah…" he agreed, sliding his hand out from under mine and placed it against my face, "Or what your uncle says, a masterpiece."

I hummed in agreement, looking to the television screen for a moment, "What are we gonna do about Charlie's offer?"

"I don't know, Abs." Dean replied, "I mean, it's a generous offer…but even then it feels temporary."

"Everything feels temporary." I replied, "This room, this life…"

Dean shook his head, "Not everything."

"Oh?" I asked, looking back at him.

"Like you said…us. There's nothing temporary there." He said.

I nodded feeling my lips spread out into a smile, "Yeah…you got me there."

"We're stuck together whether we like it or not." Dean stated.

"Like peas and carrots." I added, seeing him chuckle.

"Like peas and carrots." He repeated, "You seriously watch too much _Forrest Gump_."

I swatted him on the shoulder playfully, "You like that movie as much as I do, so you have no room to talk."

The door to the motel room opened as Sam entered, looking around for us. He approached us quickly with an alarmed look, "Guys, I gotta talk to you." Dean and I shared a concerned look and sat up.

"What is it?" we asked.

Sam began to pace, "Okay, you know how I said I met Meg on the road?"

"Yeah, and I also know you like to tell random girls about the things that goes on in the family," Dean said, receiving a dark look from him. He shrugged at him, "But go on."

"So, I followed Meg to this…this warehouse and she was talking into cup." He said.

"Sammy, you sure know how to pick 'em." Dean said with a smirk, "A cup? You might need to get that one checked out."

Sam huffed, "No, she wasn't just talking into a cup…it was filled with blood."

"Blood?" I asked, "Are you sure?"

He nodded, "Yes. I'm sure. I think she's the one that's been summoning the Daeva. She was standing at a black altar and everything."

"So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?" Dean asked.

"Sounds to me like she was using that black altar to control the thing." I murmured, then caught the teasing smirk tugging at Dean's lips.

"So, Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl." He chuckled, as Sam rolled his eyes, "And what's the deal with that bowl again?"

"She was talking into it." Sam said, "The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone."

"With who? With the Daeva?" Dean asked.

"No, you said those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse." Sam said. Dean thought for a moment and glanced over at some files on a nearby table. Like a light bulb had went off, he got up from the bed and walked over to the table, sitting in the chair and looked through them.

"Holy crap." He muttered.

"What?" Sam asked.

"What I was gonna tell you earlier—I pulled a favor with my –friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time." Dean said, looking at him.

Sam came over to him to look at the records, "What?"

"The first victim, the old man—," I said, "he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here."

Sam glanced up at me, "Look where he was born." Dean said, pointing to something on the page.

"Lawrence, Kansas." He breathed out, looking sharply at Dean, then to me.

"Mmhmm. Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from."

Sam slowly sat down at the table, clearly shocked, "Holy crap."

I pursed my lips, "Yeah."

"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?" Sam asked us.

"I think it's a definite possibility." I said, getting up from the bed.

Sam's brows knit together, "But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?"

"Beats me." Dean said with a shrug, "But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation." I nodded, then caught him staring at me with a look that said, 'except you'. I frowned.

"No, we can't. We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her." Sam said, trying to be reasonable.

"I'll tell you one thing," I said softly, looking to the boys with a heavy heart, "I don't think we should do this alone."

Sam and Dean looked at me with a knowing look.

Sam stood up, "I'm going to get some things from the Impala." Dean and I nodded as he walked out of the motel room. As soon as the thought had come, tension filled the air. It crackled like electricity in a foreboding sense that made me antsy.

I pulled out my cell phone, tucking a strand behind my ear as I dialed John's number and bit my lip hearing it ring. My heart jumped around from the apprehension of maybe, just _maybe_ John would answer this one time when we needed him the most. In a disappointing revelation, his voicemail kicked in and I sighed, "Dad…it me, Abigail. We think we've got a serious lead…" Dean reached his hand out for the phone with a gentle look. I furrowed my brows, then handed it over.

Dean picked up where I trailed off, "We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom." He said, glancing down to the piece of paper that had an address, "So, uh, this warehouse—it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can."

He hung up just as soon as Sam had walked in carrying several bags.

"Voicemail?" He asked.

We nodded, "Yeah."

Dean gestured to the bags, "Jesus, what'd you get?"

Sam chuckled, "I ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions." He looked to us, apprehensive, "I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything." Dean nodded as we started to load our guns in silence. It was all business at this point. We were quiet, almost amping ourselves up for whatever may happen tonight.

I loaded a couple of shotguns, double checked our munitions, and went over a few exorcisms silently; my lips barely moving as I recited a couple in my head from memory. The voices I often heard in my head were buzzing with life, though it sounded distant, like it was at the far end of a big building and where gradually getting louder at a slow pace. One voice that had always stuck out in the most calming tone helped ease my mind several nights, always whispering, _Have faith. I'm always watching._ Or saying, _You are always protected. _Knowing that it was just a figment of my imagination, I still felt some kind of connection to that, and to be honest, I liked it.

"Big night." Dean said, breaking the silence first. Hazel eyes met mine before flickering over to Sam.

"Yeah. You nervous?" Sam asked.

He shook his head, "No. Why, are you?"

"No. No way." Sam said, shaking his head. They looked over to me and I calmly shook my head as I took a whetstone to the edge of my knife a couple of times. We sat in an awkward silence again. "God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?" Sam asked.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, a'ight?" I cautioned with a smirk.

Sam nodded, looking all dreamy-eyed about something, " know. I'm just sayin', what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight?" He asked, "Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school—be a person again. You guys could have your own life, with the baby and all."

Dean stared at him, long and hard. "You wanna go back to school?"

"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing." Sam answered.

Dean looked back down to his weapon, "Huh." He murmured.

Sam looked at him with uncertainty, "Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?"

"No. No, it's, uh, great. Good for you." Dean said, nodding to him. From where I sat, I could tell that Dean was far from happy about Sam's plan. Being with the family for as long as I had, seeing how they were, _truly_, it was like a second instinct. Judging the way Dean's shoulders were set, my hypothesis was correct.

"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?" Sam asked.

Dean's jaw clenched, "It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt."

"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourselves. I mean, you and Abigail could get married, settle down and not have to worry about whether something is going to be after you or the baby!" Sam looked at his brother with pleading eyes. Apart of me had agreed with every word he said. Sam turned to me, when Dean got up to move over to a dresser nearby, silent. "Abby, what about you?"

Then I was in the spotlight, "What about me?" I asked softly, knowing that Dean was at full attention to what I had to say.

"Isn't that what you would want?" Sam asked, "To settle down? I mean, you're going to be a mother in what, five months?"

I had been the one to give Sam that final nudge to find freedom while I stayed behind. I couldn't bring myself to look at Dean; scared of what I would see and find out something different. I swallowed down a lump and I shrugged, looking down at my stomach. Of course I wanted out of this. I didn't want to bring my child up into this world. I wanted them to have a normal childhood without having to worry about this life. I wanted them to have a home, something stable. To not have to fear for their lives on a day to day basis.

Then what Dean had said about it never being over. It was like a knife to the heart of that very dream, killing it. If I said yes, then I knew Dean would've went with me, and I couldn't do that to him. This life is what he knows, if I took him away from that, then what kind of person would it make me? As painful as it was for me to say this, I looked up to Sam with a frown, "I couldn't leave this life, even if I wanted to, Sammy. You know that."

Sam stared at me, incredulous, "You guys are messed up."

"Says the one who wanted to be a lawyer," I quipped softly, earning a small smile from Sam. He kneeled in front of me, staring into my eyes as if he were searching for something.

"Abigail, you can't tell me that this is all that's left for you." He said gently, "You had a full ride to Julliard. That just shows me that you had something that intrigued them. You had dreams once of being a performer." Dean turned towards me with wide eyes filled with shock. I hadn't told him that before. I swallowed, looking away from Sam.

"That was a long time ago, Sammy." I said lightly, "A lot of those dreams died with my family." I mean, granted I had been the one that sent the demon that killed them to hell, and in a way, I had several doors to choose from…but I just couldn't.

"Yeah, look," Dean said, looking at Sam. "I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam."

Sam stood up to face his brother, "Dude, what's your problem?"

Dean shrugged, looking vulnerable and open for whatever shots Sam was going to deliver, "Why do you think Abs and I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think we came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"

"'Cause Dad was in trouble, Abigail was sick. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom." He answered.

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man." He said, falling silent once again, "You, Abs and the baby, me, and Dad—I mean, I want us….I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again."

Sam stared at Dean sadly, puppy dog eyes in full affect, "Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you guys and the baby." He sighed looking at us, forlorn, "But things will never be the way they were before."

Dean looked crushed, "Could be."

"I don't want them to be." He said, "I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way, at least Abigail can understand that."

Dean stared at him with a mix of emotions. Silently, he shook his head and walked outside, leaving Sam and I in the room. Sam sighed with an agitated shake of his head. We were both stuck in a place that was going to be hard to get out of.

The look in Dean's eyes when Sam had spoken of my scholarship to Julliard, he looked so shocked…bewildered by the fact that I had left something like that in the past. It was prestigious, much like Stanford. But that had been my choice to not follow that dream. My job was to look out for Dean and John, and that was what I had done.

"Jesus, Abigail…" Sam breathed out.

I looked up at him, "Sam, don't sweat it…Dean isn't one for change."

Sam stared at me, "Abigail, we face change every day of our lives. I mean, look at you—" he motioned his hand out to my stomach, "That's going to be a big change for you and Dean."

I hummed in agreement, "You have a point, Sammy…but that is the only change we have. We don't live day in and day out facin' change; it's uncertainty. We stare into the face of uncertainty every job we take."

"I can't do this forever, Abigail." Sam replied sadly. I nodded in understanding, "And I know you don't want to, either." I bit my lip at that, "I saw it in your eyes. You want out just as bad as I do."

"Then try to understand why I can't." I said.

"Dean?" he asked, "Then that is something that he will have to choose between—his family or this life."

"That's not that simple, Sam." I murmured, "What kind of person would I be to drag someone like Dean out of this?"

Sam shook his head, "You and him are going to have a _child_. That is a perfect reason why the both of you can get out of this."

"But he won't, so therefore, I won't." I finished, seeing his face redden out of exasperation.

"You're both nuts." He grumbled, stalking off to the bathroom. I laughed softly at how he felt about us.

"Nuttier than squirrel turds, Sammy." I said taking my jacket, "Nuttier than squirrel turds."

Outside, I had found Dean by the Impala staring up at the blackened sky with a troubled look. Upon approaching him, Dean looked over his shoulder, then returned his gaze upwards.

"Hey you." I said softly.

He nodded to me curtly, "Hey you." I stepped into him, wrapping my arms around his waist from within his coat, feeling him fix it before wrapping his arms around me.

"You alright?" I asked quietly, feeling him rest his chin on top of my head.

He grunted softly as a response, "You?"

I shrugged against him, "Tolerable. Bein' kicked in the bladder though." His body shook from a soft chuckle, feeling his left hand rub my back slowly as we stood in silence for a moment.

"Julliard?" He asked, "You seriously got a full ride to that place?"

"Like I said to Sam, it was a long time ago." I replied, "I had other things to worry about."

Dean looked down at me with a frown, "Like what?" He asked in a soft, fragile tone.

"Like, I had to look out for you and Dad." I replied with shrug, "Sam had turned in his app to Stanford, and I made a choice."

"You could've gotten out of this."

I shook my head with my brows pulled together, "And I don't want to, Dean."

Staring up at Dean, I could see every emotion that he battled. He looked like a scared, fragile kid that was about to lose something valuable. "Do you want something other than this life? Like Sam does?" he asked.

I sighed, clenching my jaw tightly for a second before I let a sigh pass through my lips, "I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't, Dean." I told him, "And I know better than to believe that it hasn't come across your mind once or twice." Dean nodded in silence, "Granted we're having a kid. The house and the picket fence?" I pulled a dissatisfied look and shook my head, "It didn't work too well for our parents, and I find it a bit much for my taste. Besides, if I said I wanted to get out of this, then I know you would've went with me."

Dean's lips pulled into a thin line, "I would've." He admitted.

I took my arms out from around him and took his face in my hands, kissing him softly. I broke it shortly after, meeting his troubled gaze and I smiled sadly at him, "And I couldn't do that to you, Dean. This life is what you know." I studied his face, "If I took you away from that, then what kind of person would that make me? A pretty shitty one."

Dean held me against him, pressing a kiss in my hair, "Abigail…I don't know what to do." He finally said, his voice breaking in emotion, "Everything is moving _so_ fast I can hardly breathe. With you being pregnant, then finding out that we're closer to having this baby than what it was originally. You and Sam being kidnapped by those…hillbillies, and Charlie offering us to live with him and Kara." He shook his head, leaning his forehead against mine, "And now this might be the chance to end everything? Abs, I'm scared." His cupped my face and I looked at him, shocked to see that he had tears streaking down his face. I wiped them away quickly, "I'm scared shitless." He whispered, "I feel like I do nothing but fail."

"Even if I could persuade you to leave this life; have a normal life and give our kid a normal life, I couldn't. And I know that you're more than capable of taking care of yourself. You and this baby are the only two things that's good in my life." I stayed silent, open to hear what else he would say. Maybe this was Dean's breaking point, the cap to his bottled up emotions had finally popped, and like champagne, it shot out with force. He traced my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, "That's why I feel like I have to keep you here, with me. I have to—no, I _need_ to keep you safe."

Dean's chest heaved as he took a deep breath, glancing up to the sky with unshed tears, "I can't do this without you, and I don't want to do anything without you. Even if that means we take off somewhere and leave this life and never look back—and settle down, or whatever, I want it to be so that I'm with you and our child."

Through water-logged eyes, I shook my head, "Dean, it doesn't matter to me where we go, or what we do. The house with the picket fence, we don't have to do that."

"We could try." He said softly, his voice raw and broken, like he was a breath away from losing something.

I shook my head with a soft smile, "No, Dean. It wouldn't be fair to you and it would be selfish of me to expect somethin' like that." I stoked his face, feeling the stubble on his jaw scratch against my palm, "I love you too much to do anythin' that would hurt you." I rose to the tips of my toes, gently pulling his face down to kiss him on the lips that had started out as a sweet, loving peck that had turned into a longer peck, that had turned into a longer, more urgent kiss. It was a kiss that had derived from the need of comfort…the need to feel each other's bodies close…and the need to feel loved; because in front of me stood a man that had felt so low about himself, that absolutely hated what he saw in the mirror, and thoroughly believed that he didn't deserve to be happy.

By the time we had pulled away, by just an inch, Dean stared into my eyes with worry swirling in them, "When we go to this warehouse, I want you to stay in the Impala." He said quietly, "Please."

I stared at him, considering his words, understanding that it wasn't just a request; he was begging me to stay out of harm's way, and for that, I nodded, "Okay."

A flash of relief washed over his face, and he nodded, kissing me again; thankful that I was going to listen to him. By the time that Sam had come out from the motel, carrying both bags. We all shared a look of understanding.

* * *

_**Warehouse—Night**_

_**Dean's Point of View**_

Sam and I climbed up the elevator gate, reaching the top room. How we made it there without alerting anyone was beyond me, but I was grateful for Abigail staying behind, even if that meant we were one man down. Whatever the outcome may be, at least I would know she was safe…for now. Upon reaching the top room, we spotted Meg standing at the altar, speaking in an ancient language that I didn't understand. _Perhaps Abigail could've picked up on that._

Sam had gone first, squeezing his way through the space between the gate and the wall and inched his way forward while I had a time getting through. Sam glanced back to me over his shoulder when I drew my gun. He did the same, reaching behind him and pulled it out from under his shirt as we moved to the other side of the room, hiding behind some crates.

"Guys," Meg said suddenly from her position at the altar. My eyes widened, turning my head to Sam with a stunned look. _How'd she know?_ "Hiding's a little bit childish, don't you think?"

"Well, that didn't work out like I planned." I whispered to Sam, as Meg turned around to face us.

"Why don't you come out?" She asked as we stood, now that the idea of concealment was moot at this point. "Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship." She stated to my brother as we came out from behind the crate.

"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam muttered.

I looked around us warily, "So, where's your little Daeva friend?" I asked.

There was a chilling, emptiness in the girl's gaze, "Around." Meg replied. Her lips curled into a wicked grin, "You know, that shotgun's not gonna do much good."

I smirked at her cockily, "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. The shotgun's not for the demon."

"So, who is it, Meg?" Sam asked, "Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?"

Her head turned to him with a smile, "You." She replied. Everything after that moved quickly. Sam was knocked to the ground first with an audible grunt, as I felt the ground leave from underneath me when I was thrown halfway across the room into the crates that we had hid behind before everything gone black. We had been ambushed by something unseen.

When I had come to, I lifted my head with a wince and saw that Sam had been tied to a post near me. He had a nasty gash on the side of his face, and I could only imagine what I looked like, "Hey, Sam? Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend...is a _bitch_."

Sam had been looking at Meg through narrowed eyes, "This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin' what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it?" He asked. Meg let out a delighted laugh, like she was _glad_ we were beginning to connect the dots, "And that the victims were from Lawrence?"

"It doesn't mean anything." Meg said, "It was just to draw you in, that's all." She crossed her arms with a smug look directed to me, "Though, I expected your little angel to come with you as well. She's a _real_ interesting find, I hear."

"You leave Abigail out of this," I told her coolly.

She pursed her lips, "Ooh, touchy about her, are we?"

"You killed those two people for nothin'." Sam said in a harsh tone, changing the subject.

Meg's appearance turned into something with a dangerous subtext underneath, "Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less."

"You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time." I smiled at her, "But why don't you kill us already?"

Meg leaned in towards me, "Not very quick on the uptake, are we? This trap isn't for you." She rolled her eyes, "Though, if your little plaything had joined in the fun, it'd a been a _hell_ of trap since she's pregnant and all." I clenched my jaw, not really understanding what she had meant until I caught Sam's face pale upon realization.

"Dad. It's a trap for Dad." Sam said.

I looked over at Meg, who smiled at me, "Oh, sweetheart—you're dumber than you look. 'Cause even if Dad was in town—which he is not—he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good."

Meg stared at us for a moment with a confident look in her eyes from where she sat on a crate, "He is pretty good. I'll give you that." She said, standing up and walked over to me, straddling my legs, "But you see, he has one weakness."

"What's that?" I asked.

"You." She replied, playing with the collar of my jacket, "He lets his guard down around his kids, lets his emotions cloud his judgment." She splayed her hands on my chest with a smirk, "I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody—nice and slow and messy. Including little, pregnant, Abby…" Her lips pulled across her teeth, "I know she's outside."

I swallowed, "Well, I've got news for ya. It's gonna take a lot more than some….shadow to kill them." I watched her stand up and pace.

"Oh, the Daevas are in the room here—they're invisible." Meg said looking around us, "Their shadows are just the only part you can see, though, if your little Abigail was in here, she could tell you how many where here."

"Why you doin' this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?" Sam asked, struggling against his ropes.

"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do—loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy—and Jess and soon to be Abby."

"Go to hell." Sam muttered.

"Baby, I'm already there." She said with an arrogant smile as she slid over to him, "Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty." I watched, fuming over the fact that the bitch knew about Abigail being outside as she whispered something into Sam's ear, though, I could clearly hear her due to the layout of the warehouse room, "You know, I saw you watching me—changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it?" I rolled my eyes at them.

"Get a room, you two." I muttered.

"I didn't mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun." She said as she began to kiss his neck.

Sam laughed, "You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I'm a little tied up right now." Meg smiled, continuing to kiss him as I pulled a knife out from my sleeve and started to cut my ropes. By my mistake, the blade of the knife scraped against the pole loudly. I froze, looking over to Sam and Meg as she stopping doing whatever she was doing and got up, sauntering behind my pole and grabbed the knife, tossing it out of reach. She swung around to the other side of me, smiling.

I chuckled guiltily as she slid back to Sam.

"Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?" She asked.

Sam smirked, "No. No. That's because I have a knife of my own." Meg looked confused when Sam broke free from his ropes and grabbed her by the shoulder, slamming his head against hers. Meg fell backwards onto the floor. Sam scrunched his face, groaning in pain.

"Sam! Get the altar." I said as he walked over to the altar, overturning it as the candles, goblet, and everything else it had clattered or smashed upon impact. Around us, shadows of the Daeva appeared around Meg as she slid across the floor. In the light of the window, we saw the shadows clawing at her, her skin being shredded by their claws. Then one of them threw her out through the large window where she fell several floors to the street below with a sickening thud.

My stomach churned from the sound before hearing the gate to the elevator screeching. Sam and I looked over to see Abigail squeezing through the gap, running over to us with a terrified expression, "Abs, what the hell are you doin' in here?" I said, seeing her stop, furrowing her brows.

"I heard them…" She replied, "The Daevas. I heard the glass shatter and…I didn't know what to think when I heard screamin'." She turned to Sam, seeing the gash on his face and she frowned, coming over to him and pushed his hair out of his face, "You okay, Sammy?"

He chuckled, pushing her hands away from his face, "I'm fine."

"Yeah, since we're all fine, how about one of you getting me untied?" I suggested, irritated. Sam chuckled, picking up his knife and went around behind my pole and cut me free. I sighed, bringing my arms around and rubbed my wrists before Sam held his hand out to me to help me up. Grasping his hand, he pulled lifting me up off the ground as Abigail approached me with an equally worried look in her eyes.

She placed her hands gently on my face and I stepped back with a grunt, "I'm fine, Abs. Coupla asprin and I'm cherry." I saw her lips form into a tight line, and smiled softly. I couldn't honestly be mad at her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, we walked over to the window to see Meg's body sprawled on the sidewalk, dead.

"So, I guess the Daevas didn't like bein' bossed around." Abigail commented, looking back into the warehouse warily.

"Yeah, I guess not." I said, looking over to Sam, "Hey, Sam?" I said, grinning.

He looked over to me, "Hm?"

"Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that's not so buckets-o'-crazy, huh?" Abigail arched her brow, tossing the both of us a smile as I led her back down the stairs with Sam trailing behind.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Night**_

_**Abigail's Point of View**_

Dean stared at his brother as he packed a bag full of weapons along the hall of the motel, "Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car?"

"I said it before, and I'll say it again—better safe than sorry." Sam said looking around. I unlocked the door to the room, entering. I froze seeing the out of someone standing by the window.

Instantly, Dean shoved me behind him, "Hey!" he shouted as Sam turned on the light. When the man turned around, I lost the ability to breathe. Dean stepped forward, stunned, "Dad?"

John didn't look any different, except that he was now sporting a beard, "Hey, kids." He said softly, smiling at us. Dean was the first to approach him, stumbling forward as if auto-pilot kicked in. John met his son, grabbing him into a tight hug with tears in his eyes.

I suddenly became self-conscious, grabbing my jacket and pulled it around my prominent stomach, keeping it out of view before bringing a hand to my mouth. Sam stood beside me, watching Dean's reunion sadly, as they pulled apart seconds later, John staring at him. "Hi, Sam."

"Hey, Dad." Sam said softly as he placed the bag full of weapons on the floor. Neither of them made a move to each other, just only stared. Everything was dead silent before John turned to me with a smile.

"Come over here, Abby." He said as I stumbled forward in the same fashion as Dean, still reeling that John was here in the flesh. Feeling him pull me against him in a tight embrace, he kissed me on the temple as I wrapped my arms around him tightly, crying. After so many dead ends, _so many_ jobs and clues and wild goose chases, here he stood. John held me by my shoulders, staring me in the eye, "So, let me see it."

I frowned, suddenly growing so nervous about what he was asking me to do. I looked over to Dean, seeing that he had gotten anxious when I stepped back, pulling away at my jacket to expose my prominent stomach. John's eyes fell onto it with a look that I couldn't quite distinguish. Because of that, I had gotten so afraid.

"I can't say that I am mad at you and Dean for this…" He murmured, looking back up at me, "Because I'm not, and I can't say that I'm thrilled. I just wished the both of you took into consideration of what consequences you two were getting into in this relationship." Like a punch to the gut, I looked down—not bothering to lay eyes on Sam or on Dean, "Bringing a child into this world is hard enough. Especially when you live the life you do, Abigail." I fought back tears, "You had so much promise."

"I know," I muttered, tucking an imaginary strand of hair behind my ear.

"I'm disappointed in you two, I expected more from the both of you." John stated in the calmest voice I have _ever_ heard in my life, "Dean, you knew better as well as you, Abigail."

That wasn't the first thing I wanted to hear from John's arrival, but that was something I knew I would hear at some point in time. After Gavin's birth, after pointing out the good things, and discussing what could be and what shouldn't, at this very moment, I knew that I had gotten my hopes up far too quickly, and fell for that idea of grandeur just as fast. That one tiny spark of hope that had lit in my heart, died at his words.

Like a scolded child, I hung my head, fighting off tears in fear of hearing another speech that I had heard from before too. It was too good to be true.

After a few minutes in an awkward silence, Dean let out a breath, "Dad, it was a trap. I didn't know, I'm sorry." He said, changing the subject.

"It's all right. I thought it might've been." John replied.

The three of us looked up at John, shocked.

"Were you there?" I asked softly.

John nodded, "Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes, sir." Sam, Dean, and I said in unison.

"Good. Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before." John explained.

Sam looked to his father, shocked, "The demon has?"

"It knows I'm close." He said, "It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell—actually kill it."

Dean furrowed his brows, "How?" He asked, in which, John smiled to us.

"I'm workin' on that." He replied, with a sly expression on his face. It was an expression I had seen many a times when my father was alive, and during my time with them.

Sam stepped forward, eager, "Let us come with you. We'll help." Dean gave him a warning look. As if things hadn't already gone south. Like usual Sam, he chose to ignore it.

John shook his head, "No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt."

Sam huffed, "Dad, you don't have to worry about us."

John fell silent, looking at him like I had seen my father look at me when things had gotten rough. Despite what he had said to me, I understood it perfectly. "Of course I do. I'm your father." He said, pausing, "Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

Sam glanced back at me with a forlorn look, and he nodded, "Yes, sir."

"It's good to see you again. It's been a long time." He said gently.

Eyes glittering from unshed tears, from years of pent up anger towards him, Sam nodded, "Too long." He muttered as John and him embraced, tears sliding down Sam's face. Something about this moment had turned very wrong, very quickly. At first, I thought I was seeing things, and by the time I could speak, a creature had attacked John; throwing him against the set of cabinets before falling to the ground with a pained grunt. Dean wasted no time pulling me behind him, looking around wildly after Sam fell to the ground shortly after.

"No!" Dean yelled out, being thrown to the floor by a Daeva. I felt the ground leave me as I slammed against the wall, back first, and I groaned from the impact. The Daeva that had me slashed at my face, arms, and chest while the others had slammed Dean against a wall, drug John across the room, or slashed at Sam in the same fashion as me.

During the attack, I had noticed the bag that Sam had brought in from the Impala and crawled my way over to it, despite being slammed into a wall or a desk. Upon making it, I rummaged through the bag, praying that I had found something useful and pulled out a flare, "Shut your eyes!" I called out, "These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!"

I lit the flare, the room instantly became filled with smoke and blinding light. I flung the flare away from me, squeezing my eyes shut and heard the squalls and screeches of the Daeva as they vanished. I reached out in total blindness, coughing from the smoke until I felt a hand grab mine and pull me up.

"Dad!" I heard Dean call out from a part of the room.

The hand that had mine was John's as he called out to Dean, "Over here!" Through the smoke, Dean had managed to find his way to us, helping him up, then me before making our way out with Sam behind carrying the bag of weapons.

Outside, it was the four of us. We were battered and bruised with Dean checking me. Despite the bad gash I had received in lieu of what happened, I smiled at him brokenly, saying that I was fine. John watched us closely, observing the way we interacted. I had felt that gaze several times before.

Sam closed the door to the backseat of the car, "Alright, come on. We don't have much time." He said, "As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back."

I shook my head at him, "Wait, wait, wait! Sam, wait."

Dean looked at John, "Dad, you can't come with us."

"What? What are you talkin' about?" Sam asked.

John looked to each of us, "You three—you're beat to hell."

I shrugged numbly, "We'll be a'ight."

Sam frowned, "Guys, we should stick together. We'll go after those demons—."

Dean shook his head, "Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand?" He said, "They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He—he's stronger without us around."

Sam grew wide eyed, looking from his brother to his father, "Dad-no." He extended his hand, placing it on John's shoulder. Beside Dean, I watched sadly, "After everything- after all the time we spent lookin' for you—please. I gotta be a part of this fight."

John looked to Sam gently, "Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son." Sam slowly shook his head, "Okay, you've gotta let me go." The four of us are silent for a moment, close to tears. Finally, Sam looked at his hand on John's shoulder, and patted it once, before letting go. John looked to Dean and I quietly before he walked to his truck. Upon opening the door, John looked to us one last time, "Be careful." Without another word, he got into his truck and left.

I bit my lips, knitting my brows together as I looked to the ground, my bottom lip trembling. I had felt like such a failure. As much as I had held back and fought off the water works, I allowed a few slip free, sliding down my cheeks when I felt Dean lift my head up gently with a mutual crushed expression swirling in his eyes. He wiped away the stray tears, "Come on."

Quietly, Dean, Sam and I got into the front seat of the Impala; watching John turn the corner and disappear from sight. I kept my head down, placing my hands limply on my lap as both men shared a knowing look. Without a word, Dean started the car. With a familiar growl of the engine revving, Dean backed the car out into the street, then floored it as we sped down the road and around the corner, leaving everything and Chicago behind.

* * *

**This was the chapter we have all been waiting for****, ****John Winchester's return! Which means...****we have 6 more chapters till the finale! _Six,_ people!****! **

**For me personally, it broke my heart to have Dean and Abigail's hopes get up about the baby only to have John tear that down with four simple words, "_I'm disappointed in you_." Talk about the feels, huh?**

**We also got to learn another thing about Abs as well in this chapter...acceptance into Julliard then declined it? What is your thoughts about that? Do you think somehow Dean is gonna pin that on his wall of shame thinking that he was the cause of that? Let me know what you think!**

* * *

****I also want to thank you guys-the readers. I seriously enjoy reading ya'll's reviews, they make me smile and therefore, makes my heart smile. I couldn't ask for any better people! c:****

******ebonywarrior85********\- Thank you ma'dear! I'm glad that you liked this update! I believe that Abigail is beginning to ease herself into a state to which she will feel comfortable to open up more. I got the feeling that it was great! I saw the clip where they were singing and I about fell out of my chair from the feels! Gahh, I can't wait to catch up to it! Next up, your request-Hell House! I hope you are as pumped for that chapter as I am! c:******

******angelicedg\- Oh I could imagine! I would've been in the fetal position if I had been in that situation! I believe that she's taking up on the offers to stay behind every now and then after Dean's lengthy confession before they went to the warehouse!******

********Ladysunshine6\- Thank you ma'dear! I deeply appreciate your input and ideas that had gone into this story! You are a big influence to _Bad Company_ and I can't express how happy I am to know you! c:********

**************SassyGrl23\- Thank you! I know right? I tried the dieting thing and clean eating and I'm just like, I don't even know how Sam could do this on a daily basis. I have to have my junk food, meats, and sugary goodness with all the arterial clogging benefits that come with it. They just taste so much better! haha.**************

**************As for Guest reviewers (past, present, and future), I love you guys and I can't express how much I appreciate your reviews!  
**************

* * *

**I'd like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. All credit goes to the respected franchise.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**ALSO. I want everyone to check out my buddy, Ladysunshine6's _first_ fanfiction story, _It Ain't Easy in the Big Easy, _and show her some love and support! She's got around five chapters out, and I think it would mean a lot to her as a writer if ya'll could drop by and also help get some of those creative juices flowing! It has a lot of promise! I will be posting this at the end of each chapter. She is seriously the best person ever!**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**************To new readers, I hope you guys are enjoying this fanfic! If ya'll want to, just drop a little review or PM telling me how I'm doing, what I could do to spruce this to your liking, or just to simply say hi! I seriously love all of you and I just wanted to let everyone know that this wouldn't be possible if it weren't you all!**************

**Toodles! c:**


	20. Hell House

_**June 6**__**th**__**, 2006**_

_**Interstate 35—Day**_

It had been a little over a week since we had last seen John in Chicago. Neither of us had really spoken about what he had said concerning my pregnancy, and I wasn't in the mood to be hounded about it. I knew I was a failure, I just didn't need to dwell on it. In silence, _Fire of Unknown Origin_ played as the Impala cruised past _Big Texas Towing and Salvage Yard_.

Sam was up front, like usual, asleep with his mouth hanging open. I moved my lips to the lyrics of the song while I watched Dean glance over to Sam. He peered through the rearview mirror with a mischievous glint in his eyes and placed a finger to his lips before feeling around for something. With a raised brow, I realized that Dean had found a plastic spoon, gently placing it in Sam's mouth. I placed a few fingers in front of my mouth to suppress a grin that had matched Dean's as he flipped open his phone and took a photo before he motioned for mine.

I picked it up from the seat, handing it to him as he took another photo with a grin then turned the volume up loud, "_Fire...of unknown origins...took my baby away!_" He sang loudly as Sam jerked awake from being startled.

Realizing that something was in his mouth, Sam panicked and waved his arms as he spit out the spoon while Dean started air drumming along to the song on the steering wheel before he looked over with his grin still in place. Sam wiped his mouth as his brother turned down the music.

"Ha ha, very funny." Sam said, dryly.

Dean chuckled, "Sorry, not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, kinda gotta make your own."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Man we're not kids anymore Dean. We're not going to start that crap up again."

I looked to Sam smugly, "Start what up?"

He threw me an incredulous look, "That prank stuff. It's stupid, and it always escalates."

"Aw, what's the matter Sammy?" Dean asked with a grin, "Scared you're going to get a little Nair in your shampoo again, huh?" I shook my head from the backseat with playful eye roll at the beginnings of a notorious prank war.

Sam turned his eyes on Dean, "Alright, just remember you started it."

Dean smirked, "Ah ha, bring it on, baldy." I pursed my lips at that memory. It had been a classic amongst the three of us, and the only time I had seen Sam with really short hair…well, he was bald. Long story short, Dean had gotten a hold of some of my Nair and mixed it with shampoo which was intended for me, but got Sam instead and I had to shave what was left of Sam's hair so that it would grow out evenly. Hilarious to Dean and I, not so much for Sam or John. "Just don't let Abigail get near you with super glue." He said, casting his gaze to me. I started to laugh at that.

Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably at the beginning of this war, "Where are we anyway?" He asked, looking out of the window to the landscape that was Texas.

"A few hours outside of Richardson." I replied.

"Gimme the lowdown again?" Dean asked, looking back to me since Sam had his things piled back here with me.

I glanced to an article, "Alrighty," I murmured, "About a month or two ago, this group of kids goes pokin' around in this local haunted house."

Dean furrowed his brows, "Haunted by what?"

Sam shrugged, "Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit." He answered, "Legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters."

I saw Dean's brows raise, "Anyway, this group of kids see this dead girl hangin' in the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?" He asked, looking back at me.

I tilted my head down at the article, "Well, that's the thing." I said, "By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are sayin' the kids were just yankin' chains."

"Maybe the cops are right." Dean suggested, concentrating on the road again.

Sam shrugged, "Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids firsthand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere."

Dean and I looked at him upon hearing that, "Where'd you read these accounts?"

Sam glanced to Dean, seeming a little embarrassed about something, "Well, I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So, umm, last night, I surfed some local...paranormal websites. And I found one."

"And what's it called?" Dean asked, skeptical.

I picked up another piece of paper that Sam had printed out with an amused expression, "HellHounds .com ."

Dean snorted, "Lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom's basement."

"Yeah, probably." Sam said with a grin.

"Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit 'em in the persqueeter." Dean replied with a snicker. Hell, I giggled myself just over the word _persqueeter_. Apparently Dean had saw my giggle and he smiled to himself.

"Look, we let Dad take off—which was a mistake, by the way—and now we don't know where the hell he is, so meantime, we gotta find ourselves something to hunt." Sam said, "There's no harm checking this thing out."

"Besides," I added, "We're gonna be takin' a lot of downtime until Dad decides to fill us in on the demon…_if_, he decides to tell us."

Dean frowned, nodding, "Alright. So where do we find these kids?"

"Same place you always find kids in a town like this." I replied.

* * *

_**Rodeo Drive Fast Food Outlet—Night**_

Pulling into the little fast food outlet, Dean, Sam, and I tackled interviewing each of the three kids that had went to the haunted house to get their side of the story. From what Dean and Sam had gotten, as well as me, they had their stories jumbled saying that the girl had black hair or red hair. Though the only thing that they did have in common was this _Craig_ person.

* * *

_**Music Shop—Day**_

Come to find out, Craig worked at the local music shop in town. Walking in, it had an uppity ambiance, though the walls were lined with several band posters. People of all sorts walked around, flipping through records and CDs when we walked in. I suddenly had the urge to look through them while Dean and Sam had the opportunity to speak with Craig.

"Fellas. Can I help you with anything?" The guy behind the counter asked as he looked up to see Sam and Dean. I skimmed through the pile of cassettes listening in.

"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asked him. I glanced up from the cassettes to see him nod.

"I am." He answered, looking to Sam, then to Dean. I looked down, seeing a few cassettes that we didn't have. With a small smile, I glanced up at the back of Dean's head, then down at the cassettes; plucking them up. Some of them were things I knew Sam would like, others I knew Dean would like. I even plucked up _Brooks &amp; Dunn_, _George Strait_, _Johnny Cash_, and a _David Allen Coe_ cassette for myself, that way, we each had new material to listen to besides the same five cassettes that Dean had belted out at least six or seven times a day. I had to agree with Sam on that one, they were getting old.

"Well, we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News. I'm Dean, this is Sam." I heard Dean introduce.

Craig made a noise that was something like a huff of surprise, "No way." He said, "Well, I'm writer too. I write for my school's lit magazine. "

"Yeah? Well, good for you Morrissey." Dean quipped. I scrunched my face, sending him a unimpressed look to see Sam glancing back at me with the same look before clearing his throat.

"Umm. We're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one." Sam said.

Picking up the cassettes, I made my way around the store, keeping close by to listen in, "You mean the Hell House?" he asked.

Dean nodded, "That's the one."

"I didn't think there was anything to the story." Craig replied.

"Why don't you tell us the story?" Sam asked.

"Well, supposedly back in the '30s this farmer, Mordachai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that's when he went off the deep end." Craig said.

I looked at him through the racks with an interested look. "How?" Sam asked.

Craig shrugged, "Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them." He explained, "They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung 'em up, one after the other. And when he was all finished he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside."

"Where'd you hear all this?" Dean asked, leaning on the counter.

"My cousin, Dana, told me." He stated, "I don't know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I - I didn't believe this for a second."

"But now you do." Sam said.

"I don't know what the hell to think, man. You guys, I-I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay?" He said, face paling slightly and he fidgeted, "That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?"

"Thanks." Dean told him as he and Sam headed for the door, pausing and looked back at me. I furrowed my brows, shaking my head a little, and waved them on keeping them unaware of what I had. Dean tilted his head at me, curious. Sam rolled his eyes at him, placing his hand at Dean's back and pushed him through the door.

Carrying three separate bags, I stepped out of the store and crossed the street to the Impala where Dean and Sam were standing, waiting for me. Dean furrowed his brows at the bags as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Sam looked at me curiously as I approached them with a smile.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"The winds of change," I replied, handing them each a bag while I kept mine. Upon saying that, Dean frowned at me.

"What'd you get?" He asked, growing suspicious, "You better not've gotten something that I'm not gonna like."

I rolled my eyes, "Open the damn bag before bitchin', princess." Dean muttered a snarky comment and scrunched his face in a mocking manner, repeating what I had said as Sam snickered, looking into his bag. He grinned, looking up at me.

"You didn't have to get me these." Sam said.

I shrugged, "I knew we needed some new material, so I got both of you new things to listen to than the same ole, same ole."

Dean frowned, "I like the _same ole, same ole_ thank you very much…they're classics! You, of all people, should be on my level—," He hushed, finally looking into his bag and grinned, "Dude, Bob Segar? _The Rolling Stones? Eagles? Led Zeppelin_?" Dean's eyes sparkled like a kid in a candy shop, "Oh, I take back everything I said."

"So, you guys like 'em?" I asked, looking to each man as they nodded with smiles. Sam had been the first to hug me, kissing me on the top of the head as he placed his bag into his spot in the front seat. Dean hugged me next, dipping me to the side in a deep kiss before straightening us back out with a playful grin. Just out of that, the gaping hole I felt from John's words had filled a little upon remembering who really mattered to me; Sam and Dean.

We got in the Impala, Dean putting in his newly acquired _Led Zeppelin_ cassette as we headed down to the so-called, _Hell House_. It had rained previously sometime in the night as we came up the muddy path to the house. My brows raised at the condition the place was in; granted, I didn't much blame little Craig Thurston. This place gave me the heebie-jeebies.

The house itself had been tucked away in at the back of the property behind copious amounts of dense foliage with age old vines taking hold of it's exterior, leading to the presumption that it hadn't been cared for in a _long_ time. The windows were broken while the shutters lay on the ground—busted by vandals. It had an overgrown garden that I knew my late mother would've had a field day with and a rundown, ramshackle porch as the icing on the cake. It would've been a cute house back in the day, but in its condition right now, I probably would've chosen to shave with Typhoid Mary's razor than step foot in that house.

"So much for curb appeal." I muttered, taking in the house's moldy and neglected state with a distasteful expression. Dean nodded in agreement as we looked around, starting with the perimeter of the house first. Sam had gone around as I stayed behind with Dean, who was holding the EMF meter. By the time he had made it back to us, the meter screeched to life.

"You got something?" He asked us.

I glanced up, seeing the power lines with a frown. Dean saw them too, and he tapped the meter with his finger a couple of times, "Ye_ah_, the EMF's no good."

Sam blinked, "Why?" he asked.

I pointed up, "I think that thing's still got a little juice in it. It's screwin' with all the readin's." I explained as Sam nodded.

"Yeah, that'd do it." He commented upon him looking up at the power lines.

Dean placed his meter back into his jacket, "Yeah. Come on, let's go."

As I suspected, the inside was just as bad. It was just as neglected as the inside. Time and nature had started it reclamation on the interior. The floor was covered in leaves, empty spray cans, candles were lying, scattered on the floor. Somewhere off into the house, water dripped through several holes in the time-worn ceiling, plunking into a distant puddle.

I wasn't a mere three steps away from Dean until he trailed close behind, whistling at the various graffiti that littered the walls, "Looks like old man Murdock was a bit of a tagger here in his time." He quipped, brushing his hand against mine.

"And after his time too." Sam stated, "That reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries, but this sigil of sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the '60s." He explained, gesturing to two different sigils.

Dean turned to his brother with stony expression, "That is exactly why you never get laid."

I moved to another wall outside of Dean's comfort zone, staring at another symbol, "Hey, what about this one?" I asked, as Dean wandered close to me, "You guys seen this one before?" It was a cross with a dot in the middle—the bottom stroke looked like an upside-down question mark. It seemed familiar, I just couldn't place my finger on it.

I looked back to Sam, seeing his face scrunch in thought. He finally shook his head, "No."

"I have. Somewhere." Dean said.

"I know," I murmured, reaching out and rubbed the symbol, "It's paint." I stated, taking my hand back and rubbed the substance between my fingers, "Seems pretty fresh too."

Dean sighed, "I don't know Sam. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind, but... the cops may be right about this one." He said, turning to look at his brother.

Sam looked around once more, thoughtfully, "Yeah, maybe."

A sudden noise from behind had alerted us. Instinctively, Dean reached out and pulled me behind him gently as he and Sam took up positions either side of a door. With a short nod, Sam and he burst through, while I trailed behind only to stop due to bright lights shining in our eyes. The three of us covered our faces; trying to see.

"Oh, cut. It's just a coupla humans." Said a fairly young guy that sported a military style haircut . The massive spotlight that he held in his hands had been the culprit of our temporary blindness as he looked over to his companion; a dorky little fellow that wore chunky glasses and had red, curly hair and a trimmed beard. He was holding a camcorder in his hands and…much to my amusement, they were both wearing similar khaki, cargo shorts and hunting jackets. I pressed my lips together to suppress an amused grin.

"What are you guys doing here?" The guy stated.

"What they hell are you doing here?" Dean bellowed.

"Ah-ha-ha. We belong here," the guy said, "We're professionals?"

Dean rubbed his eyes, "Professional what?"

"Paranormal Investigators." He stated, handing us each his business card, "There you go, take a look at that, boys." He bowed slightly to me with a grin, "M'lady."

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." Dean said with a groan.

I looked at the card despite seeing spots, "Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler? ." I looked to Ed and Harry with an arched brow, "You guys run that website?" I asked.

Ed, the red head, nodded looking impressed with himself, "Yeah."

"Oh yeah, yeah, we're huge fans." Dean quipped in a sarcastic tone, taking my hand and led me past them into another part of the house.

Ed turned, looking to Dean and I, "And ahh, we know who you guys are too."

Dean and I turned, looking to Sam with a sharp look in hopes that they _didn't_ know who we are.

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked, wary.

Ed nodded, totally confident of himself, "Amateurs." Dean rolled his eyes, immediately losing interest, "Looking for ghosts and cheap thrills."

"Yep. So if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here." The other one, Harry, stated.

I folded my arms, tilting my head to the side with a smirk, "Yeah, what have you got so far?"

"Harry, why doncha tell 'em about EMF?" Ed said, nodding to his friend.

Harry hesitated, glancing to him, "Well..."

Sam's puppy dog look came into effect, "EMF?" He asked, playing dumb and desperately trying not to smile.

"Electromagnetic field?" Harry said, "Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here." He explained, turning on an EMF meter of his own. I bit my lips together to keep from smiling myself, as Dean cast a smirk to Sam. Harry looked down at the device, "Whoa. Whoa. It's 2.8mg." He exclaimed, looking about as happy as a two puckered pup.

"2.8, It's hot in here!" Ed exclaimed, sounded just as excited as Harry. Beside me, Dean whistled in false admiration to the idjits in front of us. I coughed to prevent a laugh from escaping.

"Wow." Sam said.

"Huh. So you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or...?"

Ed nodded, growing drop-dead serious, "Once. We were, uh...we were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table..."

"By itself." Harry added, as I stepped behind Dean, placing my face into his back and shook with silent laughter. Dean smirked.

"Well, we, we, we, we didn't actually see it, we heard it." Ed corrected, "And something like that...it uh...it changes you." He said as I walked past him finally over my giggle-fit, smelling a strong, earthy odor. I paused, blinking, before I glanced to both Ed and Harry with a smug look.

"Yeah. I think I get the picture." Dean said, "We should go, let them get back to work."

Ed nodded, "Yeah, you should."

"Sam," I said with a sly grin on my face as we all left.

As we left the two 'professionals' behind, I hear Ed snigger, "Yeah, work." He giggled louder, "I'm sorry. That pot we smoked gave me the giggles."

As soon as we left, Dean and Sam cracked jokes about them the entire way back to the Impala. I came a hair of peeing myself from laughing so hard.

* * *

_**Public Library—Day**_

Sam had asked me to stay behind with him as Dean went off to do whatever; prank war related or not. Needless to say our research didn't exactly turn out like we had hoped for.

"I'm gonna be right back, gotta grab something from the car." Sam said. I flipped through a pregnancy book, dismissively waving my hand at him as he got up from his seat and left. It wasn't long that he had returned, sitting back beside me.

"Did ya get what you needed?" I asked, reading something about how at nineteen weeks the baby has now grown to six inches and the size of a large mango.

Sam shrugged, peering over to the book with a curious look, "Nah…what are you reading?"

"What to Expect When Expecting…" I read aloud, turning the cover over to show Sam, "There's some interestin' crap in here. Like, at nineteen weeks, the baby is at least six inches and the size of a mango." I held my hand out, "Roughly the size of my hand, Sammy." I pooched my lip out, glancing to my stomach, "And yet, I look like a beached whale."

Sam smiled softly at me, "Don't say that, Abby. You're not that big."

I snorted, looking to the book, "And it's covered in this nasty, cheesy thing…I'm not even gonna try to pronounce that." Sam leaned over to the word and chuckled.

"Vernix Caseosa," he said.

I waved my hand at him, "Yeah, yeah. That."

"So, have you and Dean settled on a for sure name?" He asked.

I shrugged, "No. Not really. I'm kinda stuck on Cody Bryant, and I think he is too." I licked my bottom lip, leafing to another page, "I'm pretty set on Megan Daniella in case it's a girl."

"Wait, you didn't get to know the gender?" Sam asked.

"No. Dean and I wanted it to be a surprise, though from what Missouri told us, it's gonna be a boy. So, we kinda already know." I stated, needing to stand up. I closed the book, setting it on the table with a sigh, "Alright, so I'm ready to go fetch Dean, wherever he went."

Sam nodded, placing a hand on my arm to help me get up even though I wasn't having any trouble trying to stand. Wrapping my arm around his like a prom date, we walked outside, to see Dean approaching us with his hands in his pockets and a plastic bag hanging off his wrist.

"Hey." I greeted him, eyeing the bag curiously.

"Hey." He greeted, "What you got?" He asked.

Sam shook his head, "Well we couldn't find a Mordechai but I did find a Martin Murdock who lived in that house in the '30s."

Dean nodded and I scratched my stomach, "He did have children but only two of them, both boys, and there's no evidence he ever killed anyone."

"Huh." Dean said, looking stumped.

"What about you?" I asked him as we reached the Impala, Dean setting the bag in his seat before resting his arms over the roof.

"Well, those kids didn't really give us a clear description of that dead girl, but I did hit up the police station." He stated, "No matching missing persons. It's like she never existed. Dude, come on, we did our digging, man, this one's a bust all right. For all we know those Hell Hound boys made up the whole thing."

I looked up at Sam, who thought for a moment before nodding, "Yeah, alright."

Dean tapped the roof of the Impala with his hand, "I say we find ourself a bar and some beers—except you, Abs, and leave the legend to the locals."

I shrugged, "Okay…so, what's in the bag?" I asked.

He chuckled, "That's for me to know, and you to find out, babe." I arched my brow, getting kind of wary about the contents. Knowing this was a prank war, I knew what Dean threw out my way; anything and everything creepy-crawlies and spider related. I moved to get into the car, only to have Sam gently squeeze my arm and shake his head; watching as his brother climbed into the car. Catching his drift, we both leaned down, grinning to look in the window. I slowly pulled my cell phone out to record the priceless reaction.

"What'd you do?" I whispered.

Sam's grin grew wider, "Just watch." He urged with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Oblivious to our grins, Dean turned the key in the ignition. Immediately, Latino pop-dance music blasted from the speakers. He jumped in surprise, scrambling to turn off the car in a chaotic rush until the wipers turned on full-speed and smacked to either side of the window rapidly. Dean reared back again with curse and quickly reached to turn everything off.

We burst out laughing, allowing me to cease recording when Dean threw us a glare as we got in. Sam licked his finger and marked an imaginary one in the air, then points to himself with a grin.

"That's all you got?" Dean asked, looking over to Sam with a dirty look, "Weak." He said, "That is bush league. Besides, the two of you were in cahoots!" He griped, pointing to me and Sam both. I stared at him innocently.

"I didn't do no such thing, papa-bear." I defended, "I merely recorded for your child's amusement."

He snorted, pulling the Impala into gear, "Ha! I'll get you two…just you wait."

I rolled my eyes, "Bring it on, big boy." I challenged, leaning back in the seat with my arm resting across the back. Just so happen, something had caught my eye near my hand and I fully looked over to see a _large_ spider near my hand. Whether it was real or not, I didn't know and I wasn't going to sit back in the backseat to find out.

"Son of a-!" I choked out, whilst climbing over into the front seat and onto a bewildered Sam's lap provoked a series of chaotic shouting and complaining from both Sam and me. Dean was in his seat doubled over with laughter, beating the palm of his hand on the steering wheel. Breathing heavily, my heart practically in my throat, and nerves shot all to hell, I glared at Dean, kicking him in the leg, "God Dammit, Dean!"

He stared back at me with a wide grin, _still_ laughing, and wiped away a tear, "Oh, I've _waiting_ for you to find that!" Like Sam had done, he licked his finger and drew an imaginary one in the air, before pointing at himself. Sam was having a hearty from under me as he held me against him out of my near heart-attack experience.

"_Ohh_, just you wait, Winchester," I said, finally catching my breath, "Gettin' your ass super glued to the toilet seat ain't gonna be _nothin_' compared to what I have planned out for you." Sam's brows raised as Dean's laughter subsided almost instantaneously and he pursed his lips.

"When was this?" Sam asked, highly amused.

Dean shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat, "Doesn't matter." He mumbled.

I looked at Sam with a smug look, "He's _still_ pickin' super glue off his ass." I grinned as Sam looked over at his brother, allowing me to slide in between him and Dean.

"You got your ass super glued to a toilet seat?" Sam deadpanned, as Dean pulled away from the parking spot.

"Ha, ha. Laugh it up, Colt." He said in a sarcastic tone, "Yes, I got my ass glued to a toilet seat." He grumped, staring at the road with a visible pout. Dean Winchester was a sore loser, and _hated_ being reminded of it. I still held best prank with an iron grip after that.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Night**_

I sat on the bed dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a white wife beater, watching an episode of _House_ while Sam typed away on his laptop. Dean was lying beside me with an arm wrapped around my bottom.

"So, what'd you get?" I asked, peering down at Dean.

His lips tugged up into a smile, "Like I said, Abs, it's for me to know and you to find out."

I rolled my eyes, "I don't like you very much." Dean chuckled, patting my left thigh with his hand.

"You'll be alright." He replied, turning his head away from the screen to me. I placed a hand to my lower abdomen upon feeling a sharp kick, then another, and then another. An idea popped into my head as I remembered something from that pregnancy book I read back at the library.

"Lemme see your hand," I said.

Dean looked over at me confused at first, then warily, "What're gonna do?"

"Nothin' prank related," I stated, "Promise." He gave me his left hand and watched as I placed it on the spot where the baby was kicking the crap out of me. Dean jumped, sitting up with wide eyes.

"What was that?" he asked suddenly, earning a concerned look from Sam over on his bed, "Is-Is that normal?"

I grinned, "Yes, Dean. And that was the baby kickin'." He blinked, looking down at my stomach and back up at me with wonder.

"Seriously." He deadpanned. I nodded with a grin, watching Dean place his hand back on the spot, "Sammy, get over here and feel this!" He said.

Sam had wasted no time as he came over to our bed and sat in front of me. Dean took his hand off my stomach and I directed his hand with mine. I felt the hardest kick ever and winced, only to grin at the look Sam had on his face that was similar to Dean's. After a few minutes, Dean apparently got jealous and shooed Sam back to his bed, placing his hand back on my stomach to feel the baby kick more.

In those sparkling, green eyes of Dean's, I had seen a mix of emotions swirl in them as he grinned from ear to ear over feeling those small kicks to him—huge kicks to me—and I was perfectly fine with that. The man had my heart and soul for as long as he wanted; this moment of happiness and child-like wonder had proved to me that every bad thing Dean had thought of himself as, was just all in his head. I could tell from a mile away that Dean was going to be the best father to this baby.

The next morning, Dean and I were greeted with the sound of a hair dryer being turned on, a muffled huff of something before a loud clatter, "Damn it, Abigail!" Sam protested.

Dean slowly got up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms, "What is it?" He asked, groggily.

I rose up too, scratching my head and shrugged, "I dunno."

That was until Sam stepped out, fully clothed, but his hair and face was covered in a white substance. Dean's lips stretched out into a grin and started laughing at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling from the sight. I blinked, moving my hand to my belly upon feeling a weird twinge and grinned at him.

"Oh y_eahh_." I stated, "I forgot I had that rigged with baby powder."

Sam spit, wiping his hand across his mouth, "Seriously, Abs? We gotta leave right now!"

I shrugged, "It's a prank war, Sammy. Gotta be on your toes at all times." He groaned, walking over to his bag and grabbed another set of clothes.

"Now I gotta get another shower!" He huffed out, stepping back into the bathroom and slammed the door. Dean and I remained in the bed, laughing.

* * *

_**Hell House—Dawn**_

Emergency vehicles and men moved around the premises as two first responders wheeled out a body on a stretcher. I approached a man standing outside with Sam and Dean close behind.

"What happened?" I asked, looking at the stretcher.

"A coupla cops say a girl hung herself in the house." The guy said.

"Suicide?" Sam asked.

The man nodded, "Yeah. She was a straight A student, with a full ride to UT too." He shook his head in disappointment, "It just don't make sense." He said, then walked away.

"Whaddaya think?" Sam asked.

Dean looked to the house with thoughtful look, "I think maybe we missed something."

Later that evening, we had found ourselves crouched behind a set of overgrown bushes peering through to see a lone squad car parked outside, with two cops standing around.

"I guess the cops don't want anyone else screwing around in there." Sam whispered, taking in the sight.

"Yeah, but we still gotta get in there." Dean stated. I turned hearing whispering and peeked from our hiding spot.

"I don't believe it." I said with a smirk. Sam and Dean turned to see Ed and Harry, the two clowns from yesterday, approaching the house with some kind of gadget with plenty more hanging off of them. It was clear to us that they hadn't seen the police ahead as they were shushing and whispering to each other.

Dean smacked Sam and I's arms with the backs of his hands as a light bulb went off in his head. He grinned, "I got an idea." I sidled down beside Sam as Dean rose slightly, turning toward the cops in a creeping motion and cupped his hand to his mouth, "Who ya gonna call!"

In Dean's glorious moment, both of the cops looked up immediately upon Dean's shout. Thanks to the local foliage, the three of us were expertly hidden under the guise of night and leaves, while the two pseudo-ghost hunters stood, exposed. The pair looked utterly startled and taken aback at the sound, until the cops shined their Maglites toward them.

"Hey! You!" An officer yelled at them, and started running. The night air was filled with the officers shouting out for them to _Freeze_ or _Come back_, while the buffoons shouted out _Run_ to each other as they were chased by the police down the path and out of sight. Laughing at the chaos, we took the opportunity and made a break for the house. Dean had been the first to enter, then Sam, then me…since you know, I packed on some baby weight and I had gotten a wee bit slower. Once inside, Sam closed the door behind me as I leaned into Dean; the three of us laughing in appreciation of how well Dean's little idea worked. It was practically flawless!

Sam handed Dean a shotgun as I turned my flashlight on, shining it to the sigil on the wall. I frowned, scrunching my face in frustration as I racked my brain, "Where have I seen that symbol before?" I asked aloud while both men scanned the room, "It's killing me!"

Sam straightened up, "Come on, we don't have much time." He urged, leading us downstairs into what was the basement. With three different beams of light whizzing around in the room, it surprised me at how little light we had. There was nothing down here. My spidey-senses weren't even tingling, though my gut was urging me to turn around and leave. Or maybe it was the baby just kicking me around like it always done?

Ahead, Dean picked up a jar that he had laid eyes on, and picked it up for a closer look. Whatever its contents were on the inside, it sloshed around in a pale red liquid. I shuddered, feeling my stomach flop from the thoughts of what it was…for all I know, it could've been as harmless as aged canned cherries or strawberry preserves, or it could be totally different. Out of habit, I scrunched my face in disgust.

"Hey, Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this." I shook my head with a deep, grossed out frown as Sam looked at Dean, to me, then back at him with a confused expression.

"What the hell would I do that for?" He asked. I shrugged at him with a look that said, 'I didn't say it, he did', as Dean's shoulders lifted in a quick shrug and turned back to the jar with a grin.

"...I double dare you."

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling at his hair-brained 'double-dog-dare' proposal, only to stiffen at the sound of scuffling. I furrowed my eyebrows, lifting my shotgun to my shoulder. Dean and Sam had alerted on it as well, following close behind.

"Remind me again why I didn't make you stay behind?" Dean muttered to me.

"Like you said, harmless." I reminded, throwing him a stern look. We both nodded to Sam as he opened the door. A pair of rats squeaked and bolted from the cabinet—one scurrying over his boot.

In revulsion, Dean groaned and lifted his foot, "I hate rats."

"Ditto."

"You two'd rather it was a ghost?" Sam pointed out with an arched brow. Dean and I shrugged.

"Yeah." We replied in chorus, glancing at each other awkwardly. Okay, so we were _really_ in-tune with each other, sue me. A low growling soon alerted us, sending my alarms on code red.

Sam's eyes widened, "Abs, behind you!" He snapped just I spun around to see a burly ghost raised what looked like an axe to me. Dean raised his shotgun and shot it, as I accompanied him after a split second of being caught unaware. _Both_ shots of rock salt had no effect on it, at all. Sam pulled me away as it finally disappeared into a burst of black smoke.

"What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?' Sam snapped, looking over to Dean with a bewildered expression. Despite the fact that 'Mordechai' had shown himself, he didn't feel like a spirit. I had gotten _so_ confused about it in a short span of time.

"I dunno." Dean said, ushering me before him, "Come on. Come on, come on!" He urged as we began to ascend the stairs in lieu of a loud crash and we stopped to see a series of shelves and jars lying on the ground; smashed.

"Sam!" Dean yelled out, turning back to help him.

"Go!" Sam yelled back, "Get outta here! Get Abs out of this place!" An unseen, cold hand gripped the back of my shirt and jacket, slinging me backwards onto my back, and was drug backwards towards another area of the basement. I reached upwards in an attempt to grasp something or fight like hell to get loose.

"Abs!" I heard Dean bellow out as I felt the grip release me, and I spun around on my ass to face whatever had me. Unfortunately, that _whatever_, was Mordechai. I felt my breath leave me as he lifted his axe above his head and slashed downwards. The attack was cut short by Sam as the axe met his shotgun.

"Sam!" I called out.

"Get outta here!" He grunted out, as Dean's hand grabbed the back of my jacket and jerked me up to my feet, handing me the shotgun I had dropped. From the brute force of Mordechai, Sam stumbled backwards, and the axe slammed into the nearby electrical box, throwing sparks before he retreated upstairs through the door. Sam, Dean, and I stood, breathing heavily from the assault.

"You okay?" he asked Sam and I.

We glanced at each other and nodded, "Yeah." Sam answered.

"Good, now, let's get outta here." He stated, taking me by the hand and we all rushed up the stairs and went for the door upon hearing something like an angered raccoon and the hiss of a pissed off cat, which caused Dean and Sam to scramble to the door. I swung the door open, missing the yellow tape on the door and onto the porch, before leaping to the ground below.

The two men behind me were so busy looking back that one of them got wadded up in the tape, tripping the other, and resulted with the both of them crashing to the ground at my feet. I hadn't realized that the Ed and Harry were filming the entire traipse until Dean got to his feet saying, "Get that damn thing outta my face!"

As soon as Sam got to his feet, he hurried past me and the startled cameramen.

"Go, go, go!" He said, as Dean tugged my arm and pulled me alongside him. I looked back to see Mordechai lurk in the doorway as the two idiots gawked.

"Sweet Lord..." Ed began.

"...of the rings." Harry finished, then turned, "_Run!_" He screamed, "_Go, go, go!_" By the time they had started to run, they ended up straight into the arms of the cops. Dean, Sam, and I piled into the front of the Impala before tearing down the road, spinning the gravels.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Day**_

I sat on the edge of the bed scribbling the cross symbol back at the house with a frustrated look. A stinging sensation greeted me and I hissed, jerking away and turned to see Dean narrowing his eyes at me with a alcohol prep pad in his hand.

"Quit bein' a baby," He said in obvious big brother mode.

I rolled my eyes at him, "It's just a scratch, Dean."

"Yeah, a scratch that could get infected, landing your ass in the hospital and who knows what'd happen if it got to the baby." He countered, taking my arm in his hand gently, "Now, let me clean it."

"Whatever you say," I mumbled, looking back down to my doodle, "What the hell is this symbol?" I asked, looking over to Sam and showed the page to him, "It's buggin' the hell outta me."

"This whole damn job's buggin' me." Dean grumbled, "I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks."

Sam looked up from his computer, "It does."

"Alright, well I mean that explains why he went after you and Abs, but why me?"

I rolled my eyes, "_Hilarious_. Though, you have equally feminine qualities yourself, sugar tits."

Dean pursed his lips, then pinched me. I yelped, swatting the back of his head, eliciting a grunt from him. A whole 'nother war broke out as we engaged in excessive poking and prodding, that had led to Dean holding me down and tickling me until I came a hair of pissing myself from laughing.

"Okay, you two." Sam said in a monotonous tone as I stuck my tongue out at Dean and he pulled a mocking face, "The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those slit wrists?"

"Yeah." Dean answered, tossing away the pads into a small trash can, "What's up with that? And the axe too."

"I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over?" I asked seeing Sam nod as he stared at the screen of his laptop.

"But this mook keeps changing." Dean murmured.

"Exactly." Sam said, a little distracted as he clicked away on his laptop, "I'm telling ya, the way the story goes..." He stopped short, furrowing his brows before morphing into a look of surprise, "Wait a minute."

Dean glanced at me, then to Sam, "What?"

"Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site." He said, "Listen to this.'They say Mordechai Murdock was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for eternity."

I stared down at the symbol for the millionth time, then it all clicked when I saw my _Blue Oyster Cult_ shirt. The symbol, the reason why Mordechai didn't just _poof_ himself away when hit with rock salt. I stood up, feeling like a complete idiot.

"Where the hell is this going?" Sam murmured.

"I don't know but I think I might have just figured out where it all started." I said, turning to both of them and saw their confused looks. I moved the doodle beside my shirt, letting Dean look between them then jumped slightly in realization.

"Oh my God, I feel so stupid!" He groaned.

"You and me both!" I said with a grin, "Come on, we gotta a record to buy."

* * *

_**Music Store—Evening**_

Dean parked outside the music store that Craig had worked at. Stepping into the business, Craig sat at the desk appearing depressed about something.

"Hey Craig? Remember us?" Dean said.

"Guys, look I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions okay?" He sounded exhausted, like he hadn't gotten sleep.

"Oh, don't worry. We're just here to buy an album, that's all." He said, ushering me to records where we flicked through them fairly quick, and Dean picked up an album with a grin.

"You know I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realized that it doesn't mean anything." Dean said, "It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult."

"Tell me Craig, you, uh, you into BOC? Or just scarin' the hell outta people?" I asked, with my B.O.C. shirt showing. Craig's eyes went from the back of the Blue Oyster Cult album to my shirt.

"Why don't you tell us about that house... without lying through your ass this time?" Dean said, as Craig finally sighed and leaved against the counter.

"Alright, um. My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. Ah, I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found." Craig peered down to his hands, "We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the walls, some from some albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdock used to live there so we ...we made up some story to go along with that. So they told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website." I folded my arms across my chest, slightly resting them on top of my belly, "Everything just took on a life of its own. I mean I, I thought it was funny at first but... now that girl's dead!" He exclaimed, "It was just a joke, you know. I mean, none of it was real, we made the whole thing up. I swear!" He said, looking desperately to us.

Nodding my head in understanding, I looked to Sam. "Alright." I said softly, turning to leave.

"If none of it was real, how the hell do you explain Mordechai?" Dean asked Sam as they followed behind me.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Night**_

Dean and I had taken a quick shower before he had left the room for something. _Prank related I presume. _I thought smugly, having already staged my prank out in my mind several times, and my, was it gonna be grand. I smirked to myself, lying back on the bed as the sound of a shower running had a calming effect on me. The only thing I needed to do was time the prank just right and it would've been all downhill from there.

The door to the motel room opened, Dean entering with an innocent look on his face. I saw him lifting a packet of Sam's itching powder he had hid in his hand and arched my brow at him. He winked, at me, "Hey, I'm back." He called out.

"Hey, where were you?" Sam called back.

"Oh, I went out." Dean replied vaguely, picking up Sam's underwear from the bed and shook the contents of the packet onto it.

"So, I think Abigail and I might have a theory about what's going on." Sam called out from the bathroom.

He pulled a face, still pouring the contents onto Sam's underwear, "Oh yeah?"

"What if Mordechai is a Tulpa?" I said for Sam.

"Tulpa?" He asked, looking up at me with an arched brow, then scrambled to hide the packet as the shower cut off and sat down beside me with an innocent look. I covered my mouth with a few fingers to cover a grin when Sam stepped out of the shower in nothing but a towel. It was completely normal for either of us walking out like that. It was harmless in my book. I avoided my eyes to the other side of the room as Sam grabbed his clothes.

"Yeah, a Tibetan thought form." Sam explained.

"Yeah, I know what a Tulpa is." Dean replied, patting my thigh, "Hey, why don't you get dressed, I wanna go grab something to eat." He added as Sam walked over to his bed and grabbed his clothes he had laid out before walking into the bathroom once again.

Dean's trap had been set on his prank, and Sam took it. He looked over at me with a grin.

* * *

_**Eating House**_

"There you go gents…and lady." The server said with a smile.

Dean took our coffees, "Thank you." He said as Sam took his. We made our way to our table, catching Sam grimace and adjusting his jeans. I pressed my lips together and said nothing, taking a sip of my coffee. I savored the damn thing because I was _so_ damn happy that I actually had regular coffee in my hands for the first time in a couple of weeks and not that nasty swill that was decaffeinated coffee. _Blech!_

Dean and I sat together in a booth with Sam on the other side as the server came to our table with our orders; Dean had his usual, Sam had a chef's salad, and me? A bowl of Minestrone soup and a salad. I was craving it, so I got it, which earned me a look of approval from Sam and a stunned look from Dean.

"Dude what's your problem?" Dean asked, obviously watching Sam close for his reaction as he opened his laptop with another grimace.

He looked up at his brother, "Nothing, I'm fine."

"Yeah?" He asked with a smile, and gently nudged me. I looked up to Sam with a smile.

Sam stared at Dean through narrowed eyes, "Yeah." He deadpanned.

"So, ahhh, all right keep going." Dean urged, "What about these Tulpas?"

"Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualized a golem in their head. The meditated on it so hard they bought the thing to life. Outta thin air." Sam explained, grimacing again.

"So?" He said.

"That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do." Sam dug at himself, "I mean Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard."

"Now wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?" I asked, catching his uncomfortable appearance.

He shrugged, "I dunno, maybe."

"People believe in Santa Claus - how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?" Dean complained, piling a few fries into his mouth. I arched my brow at him, pinching his leg pretty hard. It was enough for him to jump and look at me sheepishly.

"Cuz you're a bad person. And because of this..." Sam stated, turning his laptop to us. On his screen was a photo of one of the Hell House symbols, "That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house." He explained.

"Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was." I said, earning a nod from Sam.

"Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the HellHounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai ... I mean I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life." Sam finished.

Dean shrugged, "It would explain why he keeps changing."

Sam grimaced and adjusted himself again. Dean casually looked at him, "Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit." Dean said.

Sam fidgeted more, "Yeah." He turned the laptop to himself again.

"Okay. So why don't we just...uhh ... get this spirit sigil thingy off the wall and off the website?" He asked.

"Well, it's not that simple." I said, "You see, once Tulpas are created, they take on a life of their own."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Great. So if he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?"

"Well, it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us." Sam said, looking up at us, "Check out their home page." Sam turned the screen to us again, showing us the footage from last night. I furrowed my brows, piling a fork full of salad into my mouth, then chewed.

"They're numbers have quadrupled since last night." I stated, covering my mouth with my hand.

Dean grunted, finishing off his cheeseburger, "I got an idea." He said, "Come on."

Sam and I looked up at him. I looked down to my food, and I wasn't even done yet. "Where are we goin'?" I asked, beginning to chug my soup, despite that it was hotter than forty hells. I winced, though continued to do so.

"We gotta find a copy store." He said, watching me with an amused look. I scraped the bottom of the bowl quickly with a spoon and nodded, chewing as I got up; coffee in tow. When Sam got up, he was full blown digging and jiggling around with a frustrated look on his face.

"Guys, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something." He said, digging at his thighs and other places. I had turned around for the door and snickered, with Dean wrapping an arm around my waist, laughing.

Silence.

"You did this?" Sam hissed out.

By now, the both of us were cackling.

"You're a friggin' jerk!" Sam called out, "You're even worse, Abs, for knowing about it!"

I shrugged, turning with an innocent look, "You wouldn't have told me either, baby bro."

Dean grinned at him like an idiot, "Oh yeah."

* * *

_**Trailer Park—Day**_

After a shower and another set of clean underwear, Sam had rejoined us with a few choice words under his breath. The three of us stood outside of a trailer we were told that belonged to Ed and Harry. From outside, we heard them arguing and whispering about something before one of them squealed upon Dean pounding on the door.

"Who is it?" Harry's voice squeaked from inside.

"Come on out here guys, we hear you in there." I called out to them with an amused smile.

"It's them!" Ed hissed, however, they both stuck their heads out of the door.

Dean grinned, "Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging - what a shock."

"Guys, we need to talk." Sam said. Ed and Harry emerged from their trailer, fully dressed in their hunting gear still.

"Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're ahhh, a little bit busy right now." Ed explained.

I reached out and patted Ed on the shoulder, "Okay, well we'll make it quick." I said, seeing Ed's face turn pink.

"We need you to shut down your website." Dean finished.

Ed blinked, stepping back out of my reach and laughed, "Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell..."

"I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright." Harry said.

Ed narrowed his eyes to Dean and Sam, "Why should we trust you guys?"

Sam sighed, "Look guys. We all know what we saw last night, what's in the house. But now thanks to your website, there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai."

Dean nodded, "That's right. Which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt."

Ed rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah..." He said flippantly. I crossed my arms.

Harry looked over to Ed, glancing at me and back to him, "Ed, maybe they got a point, maybe..." He started.

Ed shook his head, "Nope..."

Then Harry shook his head with Ed, "No."

"We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth." He said.

"Well, I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now—." Dean growled out, stepping forward. Ed and Harry stepped back, eyes widened in fright at his advance. I glared at him, grabbing his arm.

"Dean—Dean, hey, hey, just, forget it, a'ight?" I stated, "These guys…" I shook my head with a smalls sigh, "probably bitch slap them both, I could probably even tell them that thing about Mordechai." I caught the two dorks glance at each other quickly. I shrugged, lacing my arm with Dean's. He had caught on and smirked. The three of us turned, and I waved flippantly at them, "…but they're still not gonna help us. Let's just go."

Ed and Harry held their hands out, "Whoa.. whoa..."

Dean nodded with a twinkle in his eye, "Yeah, you're right. C'mon, Sam." He said, playing his part of our rouse. We started to walk away from the trailer. Ed and Harry trailed behind us like two lost pups.

"What you say about...?" Ed asked.

"Hang on a second here."

"Wait...wait!" Ed called out. Dean was grinning like a 'possum at this.

Harry raced ahead of us with an eager look, "What thing about Mordechai you guys?"

"Don't tell 'em, Abigail." Dean said in a serious tone, the corner of his mouth twitching.

Sam looked at me, "But if they agree to shut the website down—."

Dean snorted, "They're not going to do it," he said, "Abs said so."

Ed waved his hands, growing a little frantic, "No, wait. Wait. Don't listen to him, okay?" He said to me, "We'll do it. We'll do it."

I looked over to Sam and Dean, "It's a secret, Abs." Dean said.

I looked back to Ed and Harry, "Look, it is a really big deal alright? And it wasn't easy to dig up." They nodded eagerly, "So only if we have your word that you'll shut everythin' down."

Ed nodded, "Totally."

I looked over to Sam, "Alright." He said, nodding to Dean, who handed Ed and Harry some paperwork. They looked down at it.

"It's a death certificate. From the '30s. We got it at the library." I said, "Now, accordin' to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound."

Dean nodded, "That's right, he didn't hang or cut himself."

Ed looked up from our 'research', "He shot himself?"

Sam nodded, "Yep. With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he's terrified of them."

I stepped away from Dean's side and paced, "Matter of fact they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds—" I showed them a bullet, "It'll kill the sonuvabitch."

Ed and Harry sniggered gleefully like they had found the jackpot. Harry spun and bolted back toward the trailer, Ed followed behind a little slower than him.

* * *

_**Café**_

Sam, Dean, and I sat in a booth. Sam sat with me and Dean sat across from us munching on a chocolate bar he had stolen from my bag earlier today. Not that i minded or anything. Sam looked down at his computer screen as i watched him type something in. Dean reaxhed up to a creepy little piece of art that looked like a fisherman holding a big fish and pulled the cord. I looked up at it with a scrunched face as its mouth worked up and down in an annoying laugh.

Sam reached up, pulling the cord to stop it, " If you pull that string one more time I'm gonna kill you."

In a deadpan, Dean stared at Sam while pulling the cord again, trying his patience while popping another chunk of chocolate in his mouth and grinned as Sam immediately stopped it, throwing his brother an irritated glare.

" Come on man, you need more laughter in your life. You know you're way too tense." He said with a snicker, "Besidrs, look at Abby," he said with a nod of his head to me, "She's in good spirits, despite falling for our pranks all day." I said nothing and rolled my eyes at him as he grinned at me with chocolate covering his teeth like a child. Swallowing, he popped another piece into his mouth, "You know, this has to be the best chocolate I've ever had." He said in between chewing. Sam gave him another dirty look.

"They post it yet?" I asked, glancing over to Sam's computer screen with a small sigh escaping as Dean reached over the table to turn the laptop around so he could see. Sam rolled his eyes, stabbing his salad angrily as Dean scanned the screen.

" We've learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms." Dean read aloud. He nodded, turning Sam's laptop toward us. "All right. How long do we wait?"

I popped a crouton in my mouth and munched it thoughtfully, "Long enough for the new story to spread, and the legend to change."

Sam looked up from his salad, "I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker." As a good-natured gesture, Sam held his beer out to toast Dean, who kifted his own and tapped it before they both met my mug of coffee.

"Sweet." Dean said, taking a long pull. Sitting beside me, Sam started grinning. I arched my brow at him, before realizing what he had done when Dean set his bottle down and stared at it, confused. We both started cracking up. Dean looked up at us, "You didn't."

Sam laughed, holding up a bottle of super glue, "Oh, I did!" I patted my brother on the shoulder with a proud look.

"That's my boy, Sammy!" I said, seeing him grin more. Dean shook his hand as Sam reached up, stikl laughing, and pulled the string to the fisherman. Suddenly, Dean grimace, holding his stomach with a grimace. He looked down at himself, still holding the bottle, and grunted. He got up and ran for the bathroom as Sam and I watched. He turned to me with a toothy grin.

"What'd you do?" He asked.

With a smug look, I dug into my jacket pocket and set it on the table, "Never trust a pregnant woman's chocolate." Sam picked up the wrapper and started to laugh harder.

"Chocolate Laxitives?" He stated, "Oh, that's just cruel."

I grinned at him, "All's fair in love and war, Sammy. Funny how things work out."

He nodded, seeing Dean come back with a death glarre aimed at me. He nudged me, and I turned, seeing him aproached us with the beer bottle in tow.

"What'd you do to me?!" Dean hissed out as he sat back down. I held up the wrapper and he gawked at it, "You poisoned me!"

"I'm not that mean, papa-bear." I said innocently, "This is war, Mr. Winchester." I recited in my best Southern drawl, "You just so happen to fall intto my trap. And it worked out marvelously, might add. Huh, Mr. Winchester?" I asked, turning to Sam. He turned back to me with his hand o his chin and a smug look on his face.

"I must say, I agree, Miss. Colt." He replied, seeing Dean glare at us before his face twisted again and he got up, racing back to the bathrooms again, leaving Sam and I behind, laughing our asses off and high-fived each other.

* * *

_**Hell House**_

Dean and I stepped into the house first with our guns drawn, followed by Sam as he brought up the rear. I never thought my little brother would ever steal something, but even for him, his little plan was ingenious to distract the officers outside, even if it meant for a little while. As means of keeping an eye out for Mordechai, the three of us pressed our backs together, surveying the house as sounds of knives sharpening rang up from the basement. I had a gut feeling that was where our Tulpa was.

Dean shifted against Sam and I with a grumble, readjusting his gun in his raw hand, "I barely have any skin left on my palm." He complained. Despite that he swiped the chocolate laxatives from my bag, he had endured several life-changing moments to where he prayed that he could make it back to the motel. It had taken over an hour peel the bottle away from his hand, and consequentially, some of the glue had remained on his hand, while in places, it might've taken off a layer or two of skin.

In his defense, he thought I was a horrible person for causing him to think that they were regular chocolate and that I was holding out on him—his words, not mine.

Sam and I snickered at that, "I'm not touching that line with a ten foot pole." Sam said with a grin before Dean shined his flashlight in his face. I felt his body jerk as he winced from the sudden burst of light in his eyes. You'd think two grown-ass men wouldn't act like they were two and three years old, but they do…and some of the crap they argue about would surprise you.

Walking into another room, Dean had finally situated his gun to a suitable way with Sam and I close behind. The metallic scraping sound echoed from within the basement earning a brief nod from Dean.

"So, you think old Mordechai's home?" he asked us.

I shrugged, looking around the house for the hundredth time in a week, "Not that I know of, but my money is on 'yes'."

"What about you?" Dean asked to Sam.

"I don't know." He replied.

"Me either." Said a voice from behind us. We swung around, aiming our guns at none other than Ed and Harry.

Ed and Harry both raised their hands, eyes widened from the offensive gesture from us, "Whoa! Whoa!"

"What are you trying to do? Get yourself killed?" Sam snapped at them, annoyed.

"We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?" Ed defended him and his partner. The scraping of knives brought us back on high alert as they became clearer and closer to the door.

"Oh crap…" Ed said as he and Harry huddled in close with us—Harry holding his camera close to him, but in view of the door. And when I say close to us, I mean me. Ed swallowed, "Ah, guys? You wanna…you wanna open that door for us?" he tried.

I looked over at him with a withering look and a raised brow, "Why don't you?" I challenged, knowing that the two dweebs where scared shitless. I'll admit that I was a little nervous myself due to the wiggle-worm known as my kid squirming within me, being a constant reminder of how careful I needed to be. After a beat, the door burst open with Mordechai holding an axe and roaring at us. Dean and Sam emptied their gun chambers until Mordechai wavered and disappeared into a cloud of mist. We all waited for a moment. Dean looked back at me with a concerned look and I nodded, ensuring that I was alright, before we took off to ensure that the other rooms were clear with Dean on the opposite side of me, and Sam bringing up the rear.

"Oh God. He's gone. He's gone." Ed was saying from behind us.

"Did you get him?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, they got him." Ed said.

"No, on camera, did you get him on camera." Harry said as Sam turned, gaping at them. I looked to Sam with furrowed brows…_Are they nuts?!_

"Ah, ah, I ..." Ed stuttered out.

Harry pressed his lips into a thin line, "Let me see it, let me see it." He said, taking the camera and flipped it open to see the footage. Mordechai appeared in front of him, slamming his axe through the camera that forced Harry to the ground from the sheer force of the blow. Though he was unhurt, Harry screamed out of fright as Mordechai disappeared again.

Dean ran back into the room, "Hey! Didn't you guys post that B.S. story we gave you?"

Ed nodded, "Of course we did!" He said quickly.

I stood in the doorway, gun at the ready as Sam reloaded his cartridge, looking around.

"But then our server crashed." Harry finished.

I blinked, "So, it didn't take?"

Both Harry and Ed glanced at each other, then at me, "Uh...um..."

"So these—these guns don't work?" I stated, waving my gun in my hand.

Ed nodded, averting his eyes, "Yeah."

Dean flicked his hand, letting it slap his thigh, "Great. Sam, Abs, any ideas?"

"We are getting outta here." Harry said looking terrified. Ed agreed as Harry grabbed his arm, running past us and into the other room, where we heard them screaming again.

"Jesus Mary and Joseph." Harry said, as I saw him trying to open the door. It wouldn't budge.

Then Ed started to chant some bullshit line from _The Exorcist_. "The power of Christ compels you, the power of Christ compels you. _The power of Christ compels you_!" Needless to say, it didn't work out as well as he had hoped.

"Hey!" I shouted to Mordechai without thinking, "Come and get it you ugly son of a bitch!" Mordechai turned to look at me. I instantly regretted that when he roared, swinging his axe at my head. Luckily, I ducked, practically falling backwards onto my ass, and scooted backwards as fast as I could to avoid the axe from hitting me until I had found my bearings and stood up. It wasn't until I had done that, Mordechai's hand reached out and slammed me up against the wall, holding the axe across my throat.

"Get out of here, now!" I heard Sam yell out to Ed and Harry as the both of them scurried out of sight. I wasn't sure where Dean or Sam was, but I could've really needed them at the moment.

"Dean!" I gasped out, "Sammy!"

Dean appeared out of the room with a murderous look in his eyes, "_Hey!_" he yelled out, holding up a spray bottle and lit the gas, a plume of fire appearing from it. Mordechai dropped me as he turned to Dean, giving Sam the opportunity to sling my arm around his neck.

"Go, go, go!" Dean yelled out as Sam and I ran past him, then felt his hand pull my other arm around his neck as we made it onto the porch. I broke away from both of them, and ventured off the porch, sitting down on the cold ground, holding my throat and tried to even out my breaths. For a moment, I pulled my hand away from my throat to make sure I wasn't cut.

"Mordechai can't leave the house, we can't kill him—we improvise." Dean said, holding up his lighter, flicks it, and threw it into the house, where it burst into flames, as they both ran outside, joining me.

"That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?" Sam stated.

"Well, nobody will go in anymore." I rasped out, earning looks from both of them, "I mean look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works." I said.

"Well, what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?" Sam questioned.

"Well—well then, we'll just have to come back." Dean said, sitting on the ground beside me as Sam remained standing. We watched the house envelope in flames quickly in silence. Dean reached out, taking my chin in between his thumb and index finger as he lifted my chin up to inspect my throat. Staring into his eyes, he was less than pleased about my stunt.

"Kinda makes you wonder." Sam said suddenly, "Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just cuz people believed in them?" He asked, turning to look down at us. That was a good question. Dean's hand dropped from my chin as he looked on at the burning inferno that was the Hell House. I knew that troubled look in his eyes from anywhere. That was when he usually started to question himself and question his views.

Thinking about it as well, I was able to question myself and ask, _How many _have_ we killed just because people believed in them?_

* * *

_**Trailer Park—Morning**_

Enduring a sleepless night due to kicks to the bladder, I was more than ready to try and sleep again. Leaning into Dean, resting my head on his shoulder, I lifted up to see Ed and Harry approach us, carrying grocery bags.

"Gentlemen," Ed said to Sam and Dean, before he turned to me with a smile and bowed slightly, "M'Lady."

"Hey guys." I greeted with a smile, not catching the dirty look Dean had given Ed.

Harry looked over to Ed, "Should we tell 'em?"

Ed shrugged, "Hey, might as well, you know, they're going to read about it in the trades." I arched my brow, glancing up at Dean.

"So, this morning, we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer." Harry said.

Dean smirked, "Oh yeah, wrong number?"

"No, smart-ass." Ed quipped, "She read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it." They placed their grocery bags into a totally _overloaded_ car.

"And create the RPG." Harry finished.

Dean blinked, "The what?" He asked, appearing a little miffed.

"Role playing game." I answered, earning surprised looks from both Sam and Dean, and elated looks from Ed and Harry. I cleared my throat, shifting under their gazes, "Not that—Not that I know about them or anythin'." I added with a nonchalant shrug.

"Anyhoo, ahhh, excuse us, we're off to la-la land." Ed said.

"Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great." Sam said with a smile.

"Yeah. That's awesome, best of luck to you." Dean added.

Ed snorted, "Oh yeah, luck." He said, "That has nothing to do with it. It's about talent. Sheer unabashed talent." Ed took off his glasses, throwing a wink to me and nodded as they get in their car, "See ya 'round."

I had to hold Dean by the arm to prevent him from launching himself at the dweeb in the car as they passed him by. Dean let out a huff, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So…I have a confession to make." I said.

Dean looked down at me, "What's that?"

"I, uh…I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer." I admitted with a smug look.

Sam started to laugh, "Yeah, well, I'm the one who put the dead fish in their back seat."

Dean looked smug, "And, I may or may not have planted itching powder in the front seat of the car." We all busted out in genuine laughs, "But, seriously, how'd you know about RPGs?" Dean asked me.

I shrugged, "That's for me to know and you to find out."

He shifted a little, "Is that what I'm thinkin' of?" he asked.

I pulled a face, "In some ways."

Sam's face twisted in disgust, "Guys, really? You have to put it in that kind of subtext?"

"Dean's the one with the subtext, I was talkin' about somethin' completely different!" I said innocently. He rolled his eyes, laughing as we headed back to the Impala. I noticed my shoelace had come undone, so I hung back and kneeled, tying it.

"Truce?" I heard Sam say.

"Yeah, truce." Dean said, "At least for the next 100 miles." I looked up with a mischievous grin. I stood up, "Though, I'm a little scared that Abs' pranks hadn't been all that bad." Dean turned the key and it was like a masterpiece.

_Burnin' For You_ started blasting through the speakers, the wipers on the windshield started to slap either side of the windshield rapidly, and the _piece dé resistancé_ was the baby powder ejecting from the blowers. Dean and Sam roared out in bewilderment, the Impala rocking back and forth from their attempts to get out and Dean's attempt to get everything to quit. In a fine white cloud, the Impala doors opened. Sam and Dean both stepped out, their fronts _covered_ in fine white powder. I stood with my cellphone on record, cackling with laughter.

"I wasn't done, boys." I stated. Dean and Sam glanced at each other, before they started towards me, "Guys?" I stepped back, "What're you doin'?"

Dean stretched his arms out, "C'mon babe, give me a hug."

I shook my head, "I'd rather not."

Sam grinned, "Yeah, c'mon."

I turned to run, only to have both men fly up to me and squished me between them. I squealed and laughed as Sam shook his head, letting a cloud of baby powder fly off of him. We all started to laugh at that, as the three of us were now totally covered in baby powder.

I looked up at Dean with a grin, "You know I'm gonna clean the Impala, right?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah, I know. I don't wanna see a speck of white in that interior when you do."

Again, we laughed, heading back to Impala and got in. I was surprised and utterly pleased at the destruction I caused just from sitting in the backseat when Dean started the Impala, Blue Oyster Cult playing, softer now, as we pulled out of the trailer park.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Night**_

After a lengthy drive and a couple hours of intensive detailing to the Impala—with Dean's help, of course—Dean and I found ourselves in bed, in a separate room. It had been a long day full of pranks that had ended in a great finale. Under the cover of night, my inner demons and the restlessness of a twenty week pregnant woman came out.

I had woken up to someone singing _Hey Jude_, thinking that Dean had left the television on. When I opened my eyes, I quickly realized that the television _wasn't_ on, and that Dean had wiggled his way down to my bare, protruding stomach with his hand on one side and his head leaning close. I wanted to squirm at his breath tickling my skin, but I couldn't afford to move and interrupt him as he started to sing the second verse; "_Hey Jude, don't be afraid_…_You were made to go out and get her…The minute you let her under your skin…Then you begin to make it better._"

I laid in silence, fighting off the urge to scoop Dean into my arms and listen to him sing to Cody and me all night while he traced his fingertips across my stomach, waiting for a kick from the baby so he could place his hand on that area to feel him, "_And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain…Don't carry the world upon your shoulders…For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool…By making his world a little colder…Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah."_ He sang out softly as I blinked away unshed tears. The love I felt for Dean seemed to have tripled.

I wondered how often he did this when I did sleep, and from the looks of it, it was quite often, "_Hey Jude, don't let me down…You have found her, now go and get her…Remember to let her into your heart…Then you can start to make it better_." Cody kicked up at the pressure of Dean's hand and I heard him chuckle softly, stopping his song. "Don't ever think that me or your mom would ever be disappointed in you." I heard him say softly to my stomach, "You were never a mistake…I just hope your mom realizes that, but she's stubborn, so don't hold that against her, alright?" His eyes went up to me, giving me a knowing look and I flushed, realizing that I had been caught.

"How long have you been up?" I asked softly, feeling my throat tighten with raw emotion.

He shrugged, "A while." I nodded, curling my arm under my head to look at Dean. His hand never left my stomach, even after the baby stopped kicking. We laid in silence for a beat, "I don't understand how I can…love something so much, and I've never even seen it." I gave him a knowing look, instantly understanding what he meant. I had loved this baby as much as he did…probably even more. To feel it writhe within me, to see parts of my stomach distort from its tiny kicks…it was unimaginable what I would do for this teeny little person. "Abs, don't beat yourself up over what Dad said back in Chicago, alright?" he said, staring up at me.

I looked down to my stomach, where his hand was at with a frown. "Dean…I disappointed him." I muttered.

"So did I," He stated, "But this is our choice. Why should we worry about that?"

"Because it's Dad." I answered.

He scoffed, scooting up in the bed so that he was eye level with me. "Of course it's Dad, Abs. He's an ass, and you know that."

"Yeah." I reached up and wiped away at my eyes, "I guess I shouldn't get my hopes up that quick, huh?"

"You get them as high as you want." Dean encouraged with a smile in his voice, "For once, I want to do something that is _my _decision, not his. I don't care what he thinks about us, or about this baby. He's gonna be family, and there ain't no backing out on that." I felt my eyes water up, forcing the knot of emotion in my throat down, "Abigail," Dean said softly, taking his hand off my stomach and lifted my head up to look at him, "We'll get through this." He said softly, "Me, and you, and Sammy, and the baby, even Dad…we're gonna be a family again, no matter what. I'll do whatever it takes to make it so."

I was more than stunned at the sincerity of his words, "Abs, I'm not sayin' that it's gonna be a walk in the park," he said, "I know it's gonna be tough with this baby, with Dad and finding whatever kill mine and Sam's mom, and ganking the son of a bitch, but we'll get 'im. Then this will be over." Dean tipped his head down to kiss me softly on the lips for a beat, then pulled away until his breath tickled my nose, "You just gotta hang in there, like I am, Abs. You can't bring stuff like that home, you know it messes with you and I know you don't need it." I nodded slightly in understanding, "We're a team. Everything we do, we do together. I don't know how many times I gotta tell your stubborn ass that."

I snorted, "Me? Stubborn?"

"Yes. Stubborn." He answered in a matter-of-factly tone, "It's 'cause you're a Colt."

"_Ha!_" I snorted out with a grin, lifting myself onto my elbow, "Is that all? You're as stubborn as I am, Winchester!"

"Then you're as much as a Winchester than me, sweet cheeks. Been around us too long." Dean retorted, then I had fell silent, "And I wouldn't have it any other way." I smiled, then knitted my brows together out of confusion when Dean got up quickly, "That reminds me…" he murmured, turning to turn the lamp on, then padded to the bag and pulled the bag he had from earlier. He turned to me with a childlike grin on his face, tossing it to me. It landed beside me, and I sat up, arching my brow at him.

"Is this gonna scare me?" I asked, "Cause, I thought we were past the prank war."

He shook his head, "No! No, no. Nothin' like that." Dean joined back in the bed, watching me eagerly, "Go on, open it." He urged.

"Okay! Okay! Fine!" I said laughing, opening the bag and felt my breath hitch in my throat. I looked up at Dean, mouth gaping, then reached into the bag and pulled out a batman onesie outfit that had come with a set of mittens, booties, and a cap with ears. "Dean…" He looked so proud of himself.

"Yeah…I stopped by a store the other day while you and Sam where at the library. Seen it, liked it, got it." He said with a grin.

"We gotta show, Sammy." I said in a hushed voice, grinning.

Dean shook his head, "Nah, I already showed it to him. So, you like it?" he asked.

I set the outfit down and wrapped my arms around his neck in an embrace, "I love it."

"I figured you would." He said softly, wrapping his arms around my waist in return, "C'mon. Let's try and get some sleep before little ray of sunshine that is our brother comes to wake us up." I laughed, pulling away from him and set the bag on the nightstand, I seriously loved this man to the point it hurt, and I was glad of it. Turning off the lamp, I snuggled in beside Dean, resting my head on his shoulder and drifted off to sleep in no time. That was, until I had a leg cramp.

* * *

**Oh lawd, we're on chapter 18! Five more to go! -insert excited squealing-**

**I loved this chapter due to the prank war between the Winchester brothers and Abigail! They know how to dish 'em out, but Abigail sure knows how to dish 'em right back! This was definitely one of their better times!**

**Can we also talk about Dean's little display of jealousy toward's Ed? How adorable was that? Apparently he doesn't take kindly to anyone other than Sam or himself near her!**

* * *

******I want to thank you guys-the readers. I seriously enjoy reading ya'll's reviews, they make me smile and therefore, makes my heart smile. I couldn't ask for any better people! c:******

********angelicedg\- I would too! I would absolutely get a kick out of them! Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did! ********

****************Ladysunshine6- Thank you, love! Can't wait to get started on _Something Wicked This Way Comes!_ It's gonna be great! ****************

**********************ebonywarrior85********\- Thank you! Happy Holidays to you too! I hope you enjoy your holidays and this chapter! I know you requested it a while back, I'm just glad that I'm able to get this far!**********************

************************************SassyGrl23\- Thank you! I know right?! It broke my heart and made me mad at the same time to even write that, but that's John Winchester for ya!************************************

**Ashley**\- **Thank you for the kind words! I'm so glad that you love the story, and I hope that you have enjoyed this chapter! **

**As for Guest reviewers (past, present, and future), I love you guys and I can't express how much I appreciate your reviews!**

**To new readers, I hope you guys are enjoying this fanfic! If ya'll want to, just drop a little review or PM telling me how I'm doing, what I could do to spruce this to your liking, or just to simply say hi! I seriously love all of you and I just wanted to let everyone know that this wouldn't be possible if it weren't you all!****  
**

* * *

**I'd like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. All credit goes to the respected franchise.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**ALSO. I want everyone to check out my buddy, Ladysunshine6's _first_ fanfiction story, _It Ain't Easy in the Big Easy, _and show her some love and support! She's got around six chapters out, and I think it would mean a lot to her as a writer if ya'll could drop by and also help get some of those creative juices flowing! It has a lot of promise! I will be posting this at the end of each chapter. She is seriously the best person ever and is so helpful!**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles! c:**


	21. Something Wicked

**_June 27th, 2006_**

**_Country Road—Day_**

"Yeah. You probably missed something, that's what." Dean said curtly, throwing Sam a dirty look over his shoulder.

"Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers, I couldn't find a single red flag." Sam said from the backseat, "Are you sure you got the coordinates right?" He asked me.

I nodded, "Yeah, I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin." I twisted in the seat, resting my leg underneath me, "Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important, Sammy." I added for good measure, catching Sam roll his eyes with a huff.

He threw his hands up, frustrated, "Well, I'm telling you I looked and all I could find was a big steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what."

"Well maybe he's going to meet us there." Dean suggested, glancing back to the rearview mirror.

"Yeah. Cause he's been so easy to find up to this point." Sam said cynically. I couldn't say I blamed his cynicism, but he was right. John had been under the radar for the past few weeks, sending Dean coordinates from an unknown number. It read John Winchester up and down.

Dean threw Sam a dirty look, "You're a real smart ass you know that?" He commented. I smiled softly, catching the corners of his lips twitching with amusement.

"He learned from the best," I quipped, playfully nudging him in the side. Dean looked over to me with a smile.

"You may have somethin' there, Abs." He replied as I looked back to Sam with a softer smile.

"Don't worry though, I'm sure there's somethin' in Fitchburg worth killin'. Dad wouldn't be sendin' us out there if he didn't think somethin' was happenin' or goin' to happen." Dean nodded in agreement.

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?" Sam challenged.

Fed up with his attitude, I threw my hands up in agitation, fighting off the urge to sigh at his cynicism. Instead, I rolled my eyes up to the roof of the Impala with a silent curse, and twisted back in my seat to where I couldn't see him. My fuse had been running pretty short lately, and the two brothers had been rather tense about something, as well. The lack of sleep was probably part of the problem, too. Out of the past three or four days, Dean might've had four hours in total, Sam was cutting in with three or four hours, while I was running on empty, but that wasn't surprising coming from a twenty-two week pregnant, insomniac.

After I had crossed the half-way there mile marker and swan-dived into my twenty-second week of pregnancy, I had _two_ doctor appointments to go to, back to back. In a way, I think it had irritated Sam more so than Dean because it interfered with our hunting schedule, and Sam was nothing short of being a hunting machine. He had been ruthless, finding small jobs to snuff out and kept it at a surrounding area near West Virginia; meaning he kept it around Ohio, Kentucky, Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania—which was fine.

Naturally, each week of my pregnancy had its new round of ups and downs; little to none bouts of morning sickness, retained the cramps that liked to strike in the middle of a deep sleep when I did sleep, obtained an ugly dark-brown line starting from my belly button and went down, and my ankles started swelling. I wasn't even about to tell them about my spells of light-headedness. Sometimes, I think it could knock down an elephant if I had let it get worse.

Dean's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, "Cause I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right." I snorted at that. _He wasn't always right_.

Sam threw Dean a glare from the backseat, "No, it doesn't."

"It totally does." Dean asserted when he glanced back to Sam, then looked back to the road with a little grin, _knowing_ that he had pushed his buttons _again._ He glanced back at Sam, seeing that he was brooding out the window like his usual self, and took his right hand off the steering wheel. He reached over, taking my left hand in his as we passed the sign for Fitchburg, population 20, 501.

* * *

**_Main Street_**

**_Fitchburg, Wisconsin—Day _**

Sam and I leaned against the Impala assessing the empty playground as Dean crossed the road, holding three coffees in a coffee holder. Something about this felt very…off.

"Well...the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky but other than that no one's heard about anything freaky going on." Dean said, handing me my coffee. I took a swallow of the scalding liquid, wincing a bit, then felt Cody kick me in the side and upward rather hard. I scrunched my face at the sharp pain from it when I leaned back against the side of the Impala.

"Dean, you got the time?" Sam asked.

Dean looked down at his watch, "Ten after Four. Why?"

With my brows knitted together, I motioned forward to the playground, "What's wrong with this picture?" I asked. Dean looked ahead at the deserted playground with only one child climbing around. He blinked upon realizing something.

"School's out, isn't it?" He asked, looking around.

"Yeah. So where is everybody?" Sam asked, staring at the playground all quiet and reserved about something.

"This place should be crawlin' with kids right now." I said lightly, rubbing across my stomach at another swift kick up to my rib. I took another sip of coffee and straightened up, seeing Dean and Sam look to me, "I'm gonna find out what's goin' on." I explained, nodding over to a woman who sat down at a park bench and started to read a magazine. Dean nodded, straightening up as well as the both of us approached her.

"Sure is quiet out here." Dean said, catching the woman's attention.

She looked up from her magazine, and nodded, "Yeah, it's a shame."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"You know, kids getting sick," She shook her head, "It's a terrible thing."

I threw Dean an uneasy look, "How many?"

"Just five or six, but serious. Hospital serious." She explained, "A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching."

In a comforting manner, Dean wrapped his arm around me, placing his hand firmly on my right side where Cody's head at as the woman, Dean, and I watched the little girl playing by herself on the playground. There was something here, alright…and whatever it was had me nervous.

* * *

**_Dane County Memorial Hospital—Day_**

I stood beside Dean, straightening the skirt to the navy blue dress I had on, I buttoned the middle button to my white blazer. I prayed silently that my feet wouldn't swell in the matching navy blue heels I had on.

"Dude." Sam said, looking up from his ID, "Dude, I am _not_ using this ID."

I looked over at him with a curious look, "Why not?" I asked.

He flashed me the badge, "Cause it says bikini inspector on it!" I raised my brows, fighting off the amused grin that had threatened to break through. To stave it off, I coughed.

Dean grinned at him, "Don't worry, she won't look that close alright? Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sammy." He spun Sam to face the desk and we both watched him walking until he stopped at the reception desk.

"Hi. I'm Doctor Jerry Caplin, Center for Disease Control."

"Can I see some ID?" We heard the receptionist asked as the both of us started to snigger, seeing Sam look to us with a dirty look, only furthering our giggling.

"Yeah, of course." Sam answered, digging into his jacket pocket, and flashed the ID to her, "Now, could you direct me to the pediatric ward, please?"

"Okay well, just go down that hall, turn left and up the stairs." We heard her explain as Sam nodded in thanks, then approached us with a major bitchface in play. Dean and I only grinned.

I patted him on the arm, "See? Dean told you it would work."

Sam glared at the both of us and shook his head, irritated, "Follow me, it's upstairs." He said, leading us. We were all silent, walking down the corridor to the pediatric ward. I cringed again, feeling Cody kick my rib again just as a blasting headache started. I halted, placing a hand on a plastic rail that was attached on the wall, and pressed the heel of my palm against my temple. I glanced up, seeing Dean paused in front of a room. Something had caught his attention. From where I was at, the only thing I saw in the room was a haggard looking old woman in a wheelchair.

"Guys!" Sam chided, urging us to move forward. I waved them on.

"I'm-I'm gonna go sit down in the lobby for a bit." I said, "My head's absolutely bustin'."

Dean furrowed his brows, "You okay?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm fine. Jus' need to sit down. Text me when you get done interviewin' the doctors."

Sam and Dean nodded as I made my way back down to the lobby where I peeled my heels off my feet and sat down in a recliner, lifting my feet up.

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Dane County Memorial Hospital—Day_**

"Well, thanks for seeing us, Dr. Heidecker." I said, beginning the conversation.

"Well, I'm glad you guys are here. I was just about to call CDC myself." He replied, "How'd you find out anyways?" He questioned Sam and I as he fiddled with the pager on his belt.

"Oh some GP, I forget his name, he called Atlanta and, uh, he must've beat you to the punch." I replied quickly, stumbling around the lie that had come out of my mouth. Sam cast me a haughty glance at the stumble. I could've sworn I saw him smirking.

"So, you say you got six cases so far?" Sam asked.

Heidecker nodded, "Yeah, five weeks." He led us down the corridor, passing along a glass window that revealed all six kids, "At first, we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia." He turned to look at us with a small shrug, "Not that newsworthy, but now…" He sighed, looking through the glass at the children that appeared to be sleeping soundly.

"Now what?" Sam prompted.

"The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are…wearing out." Heidecker explained, wearily.

"Excuse me, Dr. Heidecker?" A small voice said from behind us and a small nurse approached the doctor, handing him some forms to look over and sign.

"You ever see anything like this before?" Sam asked.

Heidecker shook his head, "Never this severe." He said, filling out the forms.

"And the way it spreads...that's a new one for me." The nurse added.

"What do you mean?" Sam prompted her, curious.

"It works its way through families. But only the children, one sibling after another." She explained. I frowned as something tugged at the back of my mind…somehow, this had been vaguely similar to a case a while back.

"You mind if we interview a few of the kids?" I asked, seeing the two exchange a look. _Not weird at all._

"They're not conscious." The nurse told us.

"None of them?" Sam asked in surprise.

She shook her head, "No."

"Can we, uh, can we talk to the parents?" I asked, glancing to the comatose children again.

The doctor shrugged, handing the nurse the clipboard, "Well, if you think it'll help."

"Yeah," I said in agreement, "Who was your most recent admission?"

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

**_Hospital Waiting Room—Day_**

I met Sam and Dean in the waiting room, not far from the pediatric ward upon getting a text from Dean telling me to '_get up here'_. My head was still busting, and Cody was still kicking like crazy which caused me to determine that I was going to give birth to a kick-boxer, a punter for a football team, or a really good soccer player. The possibilities were endless with this kid.

"So, what'd you guys find out?" I asked, approaching Sam and Dean. They glanced over to the windows where six children lay sleeping in their beds.

"Well, they think it's some super bug going around." Sam said, "Six kids in five weeks."

I whistled, looking over to the kids, "Poor things. Anythin' helpin'?"

Dean shook his head, looking troubled at the sight as well, "Antibiotics ain't helpin'…like they're bodies are wore out. But the interesting thing about it, is that it spreads from one sibling to the next."

I looked at Dean with furrowed brows, "Transmitted through siblings? That's odd."

"Yeah, it's odd." Dean replied, shoving his hands in his pockets as we stood outside the waiting room, "All of them ain't sleeping either." He said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the kids.

"Medical induced coma?" I said, slightly horrified. Absentmindedly, I wrapped an arm around my middle, as Dean and Sam's eyes fell to it.

"Dean, maybe this isn't a good idea havin' Abs up here." Sam said gently.

"I'm good. Really." I said, giving Sam a dirty look, "Who're we gonna talk to since the kids are in medical dreamland?"

"Uh, little Mary and Bethany Chafins' dad, Bruce." Dean replied, an approving glint in his eyes, "Doctor Heineken—"

"Heidecker." Sam cut in.

Dean looked at Sam confused, "What?"

"Heidecker, not Heineken. That's beer." Sam corrected.

"Ah…right. _Heidecker,_ has him in the waiting room." Dean explained, "C'mon."

We stepped into the waiting room seeing a lone man sitting on a chair, against the wall. I took the lead, standing in front of Bruce.

"Mr. Chafins?" I asked softly, seeing his head jerk up, upon hearing his name being called.

"Yes?" He asked, looking to me and then to Dean and Sam, confused.

I pulled out my ID, "I'm Doctor Ellen Ripley, from the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta." I motioned to Dean and Sam sweetly, "These are my colleagues, Doctors Jerry Caplin and Edward Halen. We'd like to ask you a few questions, if it isn't too much to ask."

"I should get back to my girls." Bruce said, glancing agitatedly to the door.

"We understand that," Sam reassured him, "and we really appreciate you talking to us." I nodded, folding my hands in my lap.

"So, Mary's the oldest?" I asked.

Bruce nodded, "Thirteen."

"Okay. And she came down with it first, right?" I asked, "And then…"

"Bethany, the next night." He finished for me. I nodded again, moistening my bottom lip.

"Within 24 hours?" Sam asked.

Bruce shrugged, "I guess." He replied, "Look, I, uh, I already went through all this with the doctor."

"Just a few more questions if you don't mind." Dean reassured the distressed father, "How do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold, anything like that?"

Bruce shook his head, "No. We think it was an open window."

"Both times?" He asked, earning a questionable look from me. The way his tone of voice sounded, it was like he had heard it before.

"The first time, I, I don't really remember, but the second time for sure." Bruce said, "And I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed." He finished, looking each of us in the eyes.

"So you think she opened it?" I asked him.

"It's a second story window with a ledge. No one else could've."

I nodded, standing up and extended my hand, "Thank you for your time, Mr. Chafins, and I hope Bethany and Mary get well soon." I said sincerely, as he nodded, taking my hand in his in a curt shake. I turned, giving Sam and Dean a look to follow me.

"You know, this might not be anything supernatural." Sam suggested, "It might just be pneumonia."

I shrugged, "Maybe. Or maybe somethin' opened that window."

"I don't know, look, Dad sent us down here for a reason." Dean said, "I think we might be barking up the right tree."

"I'll tell you one thing." I said, earning curious looks from both of them.

"What?" Dean asked.

"That guy we just talked to?" I asked.

"I'm betting it'll be a while before he goes home." Sam implied, throwing me a grin as if to say he understood what I was saying.

I pulled a face, patting his arm, "I like your way of thinkin', Sammy."

He chuckled, "Yeah, well, I learned from the best." Dean and I smiled at him softly at that.

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Bethany's Bedroom—Day_**

Finding the address to the Chafins' house wasn't hard to come by, neither was picking the locks to the house. The guy's house was as secure as an open dog cage, and we showed ourselves in. Abigail closed the door behind Sam and I as the both of us checked the room with the EMF meters.

"You got anything over there?" Sam asked from across the room.

I looked down to the EMF, "Nah, nothing."

"Yeah, me neither." Abigail muttered, before moving over to the window. I noticed her stop and look at the window sill for a long time, before she looked over her shoulder, "Hey, Dean?" She called out.

I moved over to the window, "Yeah."

Sam gathered, seeing the windowsill, "Huh." He murmured, "You guys were right. It's not pneumonia."

"It's rotted…" Abigail said, "What the hell leave a handprint like that?" She asked, turning to me with a confused look. I stayed silent, fixated on the handprint rotten into the wood. I knew exactly what it was, "Dean?" She asked, beginning to look worried.

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Seventeen Years Ago_**

**_Fort Douglas, Wisconsin_**

**_Motel Room—Night_**

_I stood in front of a photo Dad laid out on the table of a handprint rotted into the wood of the windowsill. Upon hearing Dad come out of the bedroom, I turned, seeing him loading his sawed off shotgun, "Alright, you know the drill, Dean." He said, "Anybody call, you don't pick up." I nodded, "If it's me, I'll ring once, then call back. You got that?"_

_I nodded again. It was only the millionth time I went through it. "Only answer the phone unless it rings once first." I recited, rolling my eyes at him._

_"Come on, dude, look alive." He said, "This stuff is important."_

_I sighed, "I know, it's just...we've gone over it like a million times, and you know I'm not stupid."_

_Dad was bustling around the room, gathering the things he needed for his upcoming job, "I know you're not, but it only takes one mistake, you got that?" He said, turning to look at me, hand on his bag. I nodded. He stared for a beat, then turned back to gather more things, "Alright, if I'm not back Sunday night...?" He asked, quizzing me._

_"Call Steven and Avery, and if they doesn't answer, call Pastor Jim." I recited again for the millionth time, seeing Dad nod and turned back to me._

_"Lock the doors, the windows, close the shades. Most important..."_

_"Watch out for Sammy." I finished for him. We both looked to Sam, sprawled out on the couch watching cartoons on the TV, oblivious to what we were even talking about, "I know." I sighed._

_"Alright. If something tries to bust in?" Dad asked me._

_"Shoot first, ask questions later." I said. Dad smiled at me and in that moment, I felt a twinge of happiness, knowing that Dad had no reason to be worried. I liked to make him happy. I'd do anything to see it more often._

_"That's my man." He said to me with a smile, patting my shoulder._

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Bethany's Room_**

Someone gently touched my arm, startling me, nonetheless.

"Dean? What's goin' on?" I heard Abigail ask, concern evident in her voice.

"I know why Dad sent us here." I said, looking up from the window to Abigail and Sam, "He's faced this thing before." I saw Abigail's brows furrow with concern, Sam looked at me, confused, "He wants us to finish the job."

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Motel—Night_**

I made Sam drive. He pulled up outside of the motel office and we all sat in silence for a beat. Since the Chafins' house, Sam and Abs _both_ had been belting out questions that I didn't feel like answering straight away. Abs and I got out of the backseat with Sam following.

"So, what the hell is a shtriga?" Sam asked.

"It's ... kinda like a witch, I think." I answered, "I don't know much about 'em."

"Well I've never heard of it." Abs stated, "And it's not in Dad's journal."

"Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about sixteen, seventeen years ago. Sam were there." I said, earning a confused look from Sam, "You don't remember?"

"Uh, no." He replied.

"I guess he caught wind of the thing's in Fitchburg now and kicked us the coordinates." I said, trying to keep cool.

Abigail's face scrunched, trying to understand everything that I had said, "So wait, this..."

"Shtriga." I pronounced for her.

She nodded, "Right. You think it's the same one Dad hunted before?"

I shrugged, "Yeah, maybe."

"But if Dad went after it, why is it still breathing air?" Sam asked.

"Cause it got away." I said, sighing.

"It got away?" Abigail deadpanned with a straight face, unable to believe that something had gotten away.

"Yeah, Abigail, it happens." I snapped, beginning to get frustrated. What was this? Twenty questions? This was beginning to get aggravating between Abigail and Sam—though, Abs wasn't as bad as Sam. Dear god, Sam was like a dog on a bone, persistent as hell.

"Not very often." He scoffed.

"Well I don't know what to tell ya," I bit out, "Maybe Dad didn't have his Wheaties that morning."

"What else do you remember?" I heard Abigail ask me, her eyes swirling with concern and confusion as she tried to find a hold on something to try and understand. Key word was _try_.

"Nothin'. I was a kid, alright?" I snapped at her harshly. Instantly, I had regretted that action. She didn't deserve it. She flinched back and blinked at me a couple of times, bewildered, "'s not like you would understand." I muttered, entering the reception and rung the bell. A boy, about ten or twelve, walked out from the back room of the reception where a younger boy—his brother, I presumed—sat, watching the television, oblivious.

"A king or two queens?" He asked, looking up at me.

I glanced back to Sam and Abigail, "Two queens."

He snickered upon seeing Sam, "Yeah, I'll bet."

I leaned into the counter, "What'd you say?"

He smiled, "Nice car!" I looked back to the Impala, smiling a bit at the complement. _Weird kid,_ I thought as a woman entered, appearing rushed about something, then halted, seeing me at the counter.

"Hi." She greeted.

I turned, looking her over with a grin, "Hi."

"Checking in?" She asked, rounding the counter to where the boy stood.

I nodded, "Yeah."

She turned to the boy, "Do me a favor, go get your brother some dinner."

He rolled his eyes at her, "I'm helping a guest!" He protested, until she gave him a look similar to one that Dad or Abigail would use. He grimaced and turned to go, "Two _queens_."

"Funny kid." I said with a forced laugh.

"Oh, yeah. He thinks so." She replied, "Will that be cash or credit?"

"You take MasterCard?" I asked. She nodded with a hum, "Perfect." I said, taking out my latest card, "Here you go." When she turned, I caught a glimpse of the living area in the back of the room as the boy poured a glass of milk for his younger brother.

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Seventeen Years Ago_**

**_Fort Douglas, Wisconsin_**

**_Motel Room—Night_**

_Sam sat at the table waiting impatiently as I poured him a glass of milk._

_"When's Dad gonna get back?" He asked, turning his puppy dog eyes on me. It was the hundredth time in the span of four hours that he had asked me that._

_I pulled a pot from the stove with an eye roll at him, "Tomorrow."_

_"When?" He asked._

_"I dunno." I replied, pouring the familiar red sauce with little O's of Spaghetti-O's into a bowl, "He usually comes in late though." I set the bowl in front of him, "Now, eat your dinner."_

_Sam looked down at the bowl with a scrunched face, "I'm sick of scabetti-ohs_._"_

_I threw him a scowl, "Well - You're the one who wanted 'em!"_

_"I want lucky charms!" Sam protested._

_"There's no more lucky charms!" I said._

_"I saw the box!" He said, pointing to the cupboard. _

_I sighed, "Okay, maybe there is, but there's only enough for one bowl and I haven't had any yet."_

_Sam turned on the puppy dog eyes once again. I sighed, relenting to my younger brother, and grabbed his bowl of Spaghetti-O's, dumping them in the trash. Setting the bowl into the sink, I went over to the cupboard and took out the box of Lucky Charms, and thumped the box on the table. When I had turned to get another bowl, Sam leaned forward, reaching for the box and grabbed the toy that was inside it._

_He held it out to me, "D'you want the prize?" he asked._

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Motel—Night_**

"Sir?" I heard the woman say. I snapped out of my thoughts, seeing her hold out my card.

I took my card back and smiled sheepishly at her, "Thanks."

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

**_Motel Room—Night_**

I sat at the edge of Sam's bed, typing on my laptop, "Well, you were right." I said, looking over to Dean. "It wasn't very easy to find, but you were right." I muttered, "Shtriga is a kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends about them trace back to Ancient Rome. They feed off _spiritus vitae_."

Dean looked over at me with a confused look, "Spiri-what?"

"_Vitae_. It's Latin, translates to 'breath of life'." Sam explained, leaning over to glance at my computer screen, "Kinda like your life force, or essence."

"Didn't you guys say that the doctor said the kids' bodies were wearin' out?" I asked, looking from Sam to Dean.

"It's a thought." Dean said.

"You know, she takes your vitality, maybe your immunity goes to hell, pneumonia takes hold." Sam hypothesized.

"Anyway, shtrigas can feed off anyone but they prefer..."

"Children." Dean finished for me, quickly.

I threw Sam a confused look, meeting a mutual gaze from him and I nodded slowly, "Yeah." I said, "Probably because they have stronger life force." I frowned, reading a line over a few times, "Well shit." I muttered, "Shtrigas are _invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man._" I read aloud.

Dean sat up, shaking his head, "No, that's not right. She's vulnerable when she feeds."

"What?" Sam asked, looking at Dean sharply from the bed.

"If you catch her when she's eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron." Dean explained, "Ahhh... buckshots or rounds, I think."

"How do you know that?" Sam questioned.

"Dad told me. I remember." Dean affirmed.

"Oh. Huh. So uh, anything else Dad might have mentioned?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head, pulling a face, "Nope, that's it."

Silent, Sam and I both stared at Dean. I didn't know about Sam, but I felt like I could strangle Dean for not being so open about this as what he needed to be. Kids' lives were at stake.

Dean glanced between us, "What?" he asked, beginning to get defensive.

I blew out an irritated sigh, "Nothin'." I mumbled, "Okay. So, assumin' we can kill it when it eats, we still gotta find the thing first, which ain't gonna be a cakewalk." I said, "Shtrigas take on a human disguise when they're not huntin'."

"What kinda human disguise?" Dean asked.

"Historically, something innocuous. Could be anything, but it's usually a feeble old woman, which might be how the witches as old crones legend got started." Sam explained, taking my laptop from in front of me.

Dean got up, crossing the room, "Hang on." He said, grabbing a map and spread it out across our bed, "Check this out. I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now, these are the houses that have been hit so far, and dead center?" He said, explaining the circle.

"The hospital." Sam murmured, looking up at Dean, shocked.

He nodded, "The hospital. Now when we were there I saw a patient, an old woman."

I arched my brow, "An old person huh?"

"Yeah."

"In a hospital?" Sam asked, before snickering, "_Phew_, better call the Coast Guard."

"Well listen, smart-ass," Dean said in a deadpan, "She had an inverted cross hanging on her wall."

Sam and I looked up at him, serious. Dean raised an eyebrow at him. I racked my brain for a moment.

"If it's the same old woman I'm thinkin' of, then I didn't see anythin'." I said. Dean rolled his eyes at me, shrugging on his jacket, "I'm serious, her eyes were clouded over, like she had cataracts or somethin'."

"Well, we gotta make sure." Dean said, "I'm not leaving a stone go unturned."

I nodded, "And I understand that, Dean. But I was there too, I saw that old woman and there wasn't nothin' out of the ordinary about her."

He scoffed, "And I know that your freaky spidey-sense doesn't work sometimes."

I bristled, "Freaky?"

Dean rolled his eyes at me once again, "Seriously? You're gonna get pissy over me saying freaky?" He asked.

"Yes, I am." I snapped, "I know a gut feelin' when I see someone. It's not her."

"This isn't your call, it's mine." Dean said, heatedly, "And what I say, goes."

I scoffed, "And people in Hell want ice water, but that doesn't mean they get it."

"If all you want to do is bitch and moan about it, by all means, Abigail, stay." Dean snapped, "I don't need you to know something's fishy. I _know_ it when I see it." Sam looked between us.

"Guys, can we not?" He sighed, "There are more pressing matters here."

I held my hand out to Sam, hushing him, "I get it, Sammy." I folded my arms in between my breasts and stomach, "Then if you _don't need me_, then _by all means_, get the fuck out."

"Oh, trust me, sweetheart, _I am!_" He snarled, picking up his keys from the table.

"Good, and don't let the door hit you on the way out, dickhead!" I shot back, seeing his face get red from his temper rising quickly. Dean was just about out the door when he stopped, and turned. His eyes flashed with a simmering anger.

"You know what pisses me off?" He began, approaching me in a stiff-legged manner. Sam glanced at him warily, beginning to take a step in order to block his advances towards me.

"Easy, Dean." He cautioned.

Dean ignored him, "What pisses me off about you is the fact that you lived a perfect life, and you try to make it out like you had _nothing_, when the truth is, Sam and I had _nothing_!" He spat out, "You had your parents—_both of them_, when we had our dad and he wasn't even here half of the time!"

I narrowed my eyes at Dean, "You think I had a perfect life?"

"You're damn right, I do!" He snarled, "You had everything you ever wanted and then some! You had a roof over your head all the time, you had food; you were safe! Sam and I, we didn't have that!"

"Dean, really—" Sam protested, trying to diffuse the shit storm that was beginning to take place.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I laughed, "You think because I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth, I had everythin'?" I shook my head, "You're dead wrong, Dean."

"Then enlighten me, Cinderella!"

"At least you have part of your family." I seethed out, "I have no one."

"You have Charlie!" Dean interrupted.

"Yeah, someone I barely got to see cause he was so far up shit creek; too busy stuffing pills up his nose, I barely even knew him!" I argued.

Dean sneered at me, "Then I know where you got that from. Must run in the family."

Sam stilled. His eyes widening, "Dean, that's uncalled for."

"I thought we were over that." I said coolly, "But I guess not." I swallowed, fighting back tears. Every bit of anger I had in me, dissipated and was instantly replaced with disappointment in myself, "All's I'm sayin' is that you have your dad and your brother, and I don't have a one. I didn't do a thing to help them, or save them, or anythin'." I took a quick, deep breath to stave off the water works, "They're gone because of me." I bit my lip, seeing Sam turn to Dean with a glare.

Dean blinked in realization of what he had said and stepped forward. I shook my head at him, and he stopped, looking hurt. "Just…go, since you don't need me an' all." I said lightly.

Dean didn't say anything. He took a deep breath, and nodded, "We'll let you know what we find out." He turned, walking out of the door. Sam stood in the room with me, eyes glittering from unshed tears. He took a step toward me and I shook my head.

"You'd better go before he comes back." I said in a quiet voice. Sam furrowed his brows at me, and nodded, closing the door behind him as he walked out. I stood in the middle of the motel room in silence, waiting for the sound of the Impala's engine to roar out, and it did. When the sound faded into silence, I knew I was totally alone. My entire body trembled from my nerves being shot.

On auto-pilot, I wandered over to mine and Dean's bag, pulling out my clothes and stuffed them into a garbage bag. This was the last time I was going to put up with it. _No more_. My heart pounded in my chest like a locomotive running, feeling Cody kick out restlessly, like it was out of protest. When that thought had crossed my mind, I crumpled under the sheer thought of having a broken family. I placed a hand to my face as sobs wracked through my body. I was so tired of the fighting and the arguing between the brothers…the backlash I had gotten from Dean—I couldn't be in this situation any more than what I needed to be. I knew what I had to do.

Sniffling, I wiped at my face and picked up the bag, crossing over to the nightstand where the room started to spin. I felt my face heat up, my ears had an awkward sensation; like someone put cotton balls in them. The voices in my head had begun whispering with urgency now when I dropped the bag of clothes, and my cellphone; holding my head, "Not now." I muttered, reaching out to place my hand on the nightstand. Instead, my hand slipped off the edge of the table, my knees buckled from underneath me and fell as the side of my head bounced off it when I blacked out.

That one voice I sought after had come through again, repeating; _Have faith, Abigail. Do not fret, for I am always here in times of comfort._

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Dane County Memorial Hospital—Night_**

Sam and I had been silent for most of the ride to the hospital, often catching looks from him out of the corner of my eye. Pulling the Impala in park, I sat back in silence, then sighed, "Let it out, Sammy. I know you want to." I said, finally looking to him.

Sam shook his head, "There's not much to say, Dean."

"Then what?" I asked, "Tell me I'm a douche-bag of a boyfriend to her. That she doesn't deserve the asshat I am. Because the truth is, Sammy, I am."

Sam shook his head once again, "No, Dean, you're not. But you just can't bring up that Abigail had an issue with drugs every time you and her fight. She's not perfect, and neither are you."

"Yeah, I know." I muttered. We sat in silence for a beat, then got out of the car, closing the car doors behind us. I shoved my keys into my pockets as we made our way across the parking lot.

"So, what do we do if this old woman's the shtriga?" Sam asked.

"We catch her feeding and pump her full of iron, that's what we do." I replied casually, "Then, after that's over, I do one hell of an apology to Abs." I caught Sam smirking at that, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"What if this old woman is just a person, like Abigail said?" Sam asked.

I halted, gazing up at the sky for a moment in silence, "Then I owe her one hell of an apology, Sam." I told him, lightly, "And hope like hell she forgives me." Sam stared at me, silent, which made me shift in my spot, "What?"

Sam pursed his lips to cover up a smile, "Nothing." He said, "It's just funny to see my big brother jumping through flaming hula hoops over Abigail, the girl you didn't even want in the family."

I snorted, "What're you talkin' about, Sam? I've always wanted her in the family."

"Not the way I remember it. You practically hated her existence the day we got her." He said.

"No, that was blatant concern for your safety." I said stiffly, "She gave you a black eye three different times from those nightmares of hers—" I pointed at him, "_That_ I can say, she has improved on."

Sam arched his brow, "So what changed the 'love 'em and leave 'em' lifestyle of yours into a one woman man?"

I shrugged, "Never really thought about it."

Sam chuckled, "I'm sure you haven't." He said in a sarcastic tone, before patting me on the shoulder, "C'mon."

* * *

Coming down the hallway of the pediatric ward, we quickly ducked back when we saw Dr. Heidacker, and decided to wait him out.

"Goodnight, Dr. Heidacker." A nurse said.

"See you tomorrow, Betty." He replied to her with a smile.

"Try to get some sleep." She called as Heidacker passed us by. Apparently he'd been pulling extra hours on condition of the kids. When the coast was clear, we moved on to the old woman's room where Sam and I duked it out on who had to stand outside as scout like grown men; rock, paper, scissors style. I won, meaning Sam had to say back.

I went in, gun drawn in case the old girl was the shtriga. The way she sat in her wheelchair was just plain creepy. I mean, who sleeps in a wheelchair for one, and two, why would she be facing the corner. I leaned in closer and closer to her face until her head jerked in my direction.

"Who the hell are you?!" she said loudly. I panicked, leaping back against a wall cabinet where my gun almost slipped from my hands.

"Who's there?" The old woman looked around blindly, "You trying to steal my stuff?" she accused, "They're always stealing around here."

When the lights flipped on, I saw that the old woman had cataracts in her eyes, _just like Abigail said. _Aside from the freaked out look I threw at Sam, I just knew that I was in for it when we went back to the motel.

"No! Ah, ma'am, we're maintenance." Sam said quickly, "We're sorry. We thought you were sleeping."

"Ahhh, nonsense. I was sleeping with my peepers open." She laughed at us, gesturing to the crucifix on the wall, "And fix that crucifix, would ya?" I shook my head at Sam, considering how close we had come to gank an old woman. I tucked my gun back in the waistband of my jeans, "I've asked four damn times already!"

I approached the crucifix where I tapped on it a few times until the crucifix swung the right way up. Abigail was going to get a kick out of this one, if she was in a good mood when we came back.

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Motel—Morning_**

Fifteen minutes later and about five unanswered phone calls to Abigail, I could only imagine how pissed off she was, and a part of me didn't blame her. I couldn't let something like that get in the way of the job at hand, though, it was because of this job that we were fighting.

Sam was still laughing at the retelling of our encounter, "I was sleeping with my peepers open?" He laughed harder again.

"I almost smoked that old girl, I swear." I chided him, "It's not funny!"

He snickered, throwing me a grin, "Oh man, you shoulda seen your face." He said.

I rolled my eyes at him, "Yeah, laugh it off." I said, "Now we're back to square one and I need to figure out something to say to Abs."

Sam grinned, "Dude, you're so whipped."

"No, I'm not." I stated.

"You so are," He replied, cheekily.

I took my hand and shoved him to the side, making him snicker, "I _so_ am not." I said, then caught sight of the little boy sitting on the bench near the office door. I paused, "Hang on." I said, before Sam unlocked the door to the room, and walked over to him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, crouching to get eye level with him.

The boy turned his watery eyes on me and sniffed, "My brother's sick." He said, forlorn.

"The little guy?" I asked.

He nodded, "Pneumonia. He's in the hospital. It's my fault." He said. I grew concerned for him.

"Ah, c'mon, how?" I asked, leaning into him.

"I shoulda made sure the window was latched." He shook his head, sadly, "He wouldn't've got pneumonia if the window was latched." At that, I clenched my jaw in anger. _How could we be so stupid and not keep an eye on these two?_

"Listen to me," I told him, "I can promise you that is not your fault. Okay?"

He looked up at me with a frown, "It's my job to look after him." I truly felt sorry for the kid. I knew what it felt like to feel responsible for someone and the actions of something. I saw myself in this kid, like he saw to the safety of his little brother. His mother hurried out of the motel toward their Jeep Grand Cherokee carrying her purse, a blanket, a stuffed teddy bear, and a couple of pillows. She looked flustered and jittery, like she was about to breakdown at any moment.

She looked over to her son, "Michael, I want you to turn on the _No Vacancy_ sign while I'm gone." She instructed, "I've got Denise covering room service, so don't bother any of the rooms."

Michael stood up, "I'm going with you." He replied, heading toward the SUV.

"Not now, Michael." She answered, giving him a stern look.

"But I gotta see Asher!" He protested.

"Hey Michael." I said gently to him, "Hey. I know how you feel - I'm a big brother too - but you gotta go easy on your Mom right now, okay?"

Michael's mom dropped her purse in haste, "Dammit"

Sam stooped to get it for her, "I got it." He said, picking it up and handed it to her.

She smiled tiredly to Sam, "Thank you."

"Listen, you're in no condition to drive—" I said, earning a look from Sam, "Why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital?" I offered.

"I couldn't possibly…" She started to say.

I shook my head, "No, it's no trouble. I insist." I held my hand out, allowing her to hand me over the keys.

"Thanks." She said, then turned to Michael, "Be good." I helped her into the passenger seat, closed the door, and turned to Sam.

"We're gonna kill this thing." I muttered to him, "I want it dead, you hear me?"

Sam nodded, "We will, Dean."

I glanced over to our motel room, "Ask Abs if she heard or saw anything last night, she's bound to know something. Tell her I'm with Asher and Michael's mom checking up on him."

* * *

**_Sam's Point of View_**

Watching Dean drive away in the Jeep, I turned, walking back to the motel room to check on Abigail. The look I saw in her eyes later last night had put a knot in my stomach for the remainder of the night, and for her to not call and tell us something about Michael's brother being attacked? Something was off.

Twisting the knob, I stepped into the room. Everything was in the same positions except for the garbage bag full of clothes on the bed, "Abigail?" I called out, growing cautious at the eerie silence and reached for my gun. Circling around the beds, I felt my heart seize in my chest when my eyes fell on Abigail as she lay unconscious in the space between our beds with a nasty gash on her forehead. I placed my gun on the bed and rushed to her side.

"Abigail, hey," I said, shaking her shoulders roughly, "Abs, wake up." I swallowed, hearing her groan pitifully as her face scrunched in pain, "Hey, you okay?"

Abigail cracked her eyes open in a squint before closing them again and wet her lips, "Yeah, peachy." She rasped out, weakly taking my arms in her clammy hands, struggling to get up. _Abigail looks awful, _I thought, _swearing_ I thought she felt hotter than normal, like a fever.

"Let me help you up." I said, gently when her eyes fluttered open again.

She moistened her lips and slowly nodded when I wrapped an arm around her waist and rose to my feet. Like a baby animal, she wobbled a bit before falling to hers and Dean's bed ungracefully, shivering.

"What happened?" I asked her, as I turned to my duffle bag and took out the first aid kit.

"I fell." She mumbled, when I sat on the edge of the bed, opening the bag and took out a few alcohol wipes from inside it.

"I see that." I replied, seeing the corner of her lips tip up into a tired, lop-sided smile similar to Dean's. The strong odor of alcohol stung my nose when I opened a pack. "But what were you doing before that? After we left." I asked, seeing her smile fall, and averted her eyes to another part of the motel room like she was guilty about something. I gestured my freehand to the garbage bag at the end of the bed, "Were you going to leave?"

"Yeah." She muttered, and flinched as I brushed her hair out of her face. Some of it had clung to her face from the dried blood. Her body jerked slightly in a grimace when I started to wipe away the dried blood along her face until I made it up to the knot and gash.

I furrowed my brows at her, "Why?"

"Because I don't need to be around the bullshit your brother pulls me into." She said, staring me in the eyes.

_Can't say I blamed her on that one. _I thought, "Abigail, Dean didn't mean what he said earlier." I said.

Abigail worked her jaw oddly, like she was trying to fight back tears. I gently wiped the area until it was cleaned up all the way, "Sammy, I appreciate that you're tryin' to pick up the mess from Dean's little tantrum, but it wasn't your fight—It was Dean's."

I nodded slowly, "I know. He was wrong about that old lady at the hospital." I watched her nod, seeing a knowing look in her eyes. I smiled at her as I added the finishing touches of patching up her forehead, "You shoulda seen him, Abs. Totally freaked out by her."

Her lips pursed in amusement, "I could only imagine, Sammy. Big, bad Dean Winchester, getting pansified because of some old woman." She snorted, "So, where is he?"

"You know that kid in the front desk?" I asked. She nodded. "His kid brother, Asher's in the hospital, same thing happening to him." I explained, seeing her face drain of color.

"You mean the shtriga's been here?" She asked, looking absolutely horrified.

I nodded, "Yeah, and Dean took his mom over to the hospital. We gotta kill this thing before it hits again or disappears."

Abigail coughed harshly out of nowhere and grimaced. It was a dry, barking cough that seemed to have pained her in some way, "Ugh." She muttered, throwing a glance at something, "Who left the window open?"

I froze, "What window?"

"The one next to the door," She said getting irritated, "I swear, if I get sick because of Dean, I'm gonna kick his ass." I placed the back of my hand against her forehead with a frown, "What is it?"

"You're burning up." I said, "You don't remember anything last night?"

She shook her head, "No. Nothin'. Got dizzy and fell and that was all she wrote."

I got up from the bed, crossing over to the window with dread knotting up in the pit of my stomach. _Tell me this isn't happening._ I thought, approaching the window and stopped. My mouth went dry upon seeing a rotted handprint on the windowsill. _Dean's gonna be pissed._ "Abigail, do you feel okay?"

"I feel like hammered dog shit, to be completely honest." She grumbled out, "I feel like I can't do anythin'…I'm just…tired." She frowned looking up from her hands, "You don't think—?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I do."

"Don't tell Dean." She said, "We gotta find things out, who this shtriga is, and kill 'im before Asher, or Michael, or myself is next…"

I nodded, "I'll go the library."

"I'm goin' with you, Sam."

"No, you're not. You're sick!" I stated, throwing her an incredulous look.

"I'm not stayin' here to be bait for a damn creature, Sammy. End of discussion." She argued, slowly getting up from the bed.

I sighed in defeat.

* * *

**_Sam's Point of View_**

**_Library_**

Abigail and I sat at a microfiche machine going through several articles and photographs of Fort Douglas, Ogdenville, North Haverbrook, and Brockway. Beside me, Abigail shivered and coughed harshly into her shirt as she reached out with a shaking hand to pick up an old photograph, and looked up when my cellphone started to ring.

"_Hey._" It was Dean.

"Hey. How's the kid?" I asked, earning a furtive glance from Abigail; who looked like she was trying to stave off another harsh round of coughs.

"_He's not good,_" Came Dean's reply, "_Where you at?"_

"Abigail and I are at the library." I replied, "We've been trying to find out as much as I can about this Shtriga."

"_Yeah? What have you got?"_ He asked me with a slight urgent tone in his voice.

"Well, bad news. I started with Fort Douglas around the time you said Dad was there?"

"Yeah?" He asked.

I sighed, "Same deal. Before that, there was, uh, Ogdenville, before that North Haverbrook, and Brockway. Every 15 to 20 years it hits a new town." I recounted, glancing down at the list of towns and establishments that Abigail had written down, "Dean, this thing is just getting started in Fitchburg." I said, "In all these other places, it goes on for months; dozens of kids before the shtriga finally moves on." I shook my head at the numbers, "The kids just ... languish in comas and then they die."

"_How far back's this thing go?_" Dean asked.

"Ah, I don't know." I admitted, "The earliest mention Abigail and I could find is this place called "Black River Falls" back in the 1890s." Dean made something of a grunt on the other end as a means of me continue, "Talk about a horror show..." I murmured, when Abigail leaned forward, showing me a photograph. I glanced at it, then done a double-take, "Whoa."

"_Sam_?" He barked out.

I blew out a breath, "Hold on... Abs handed me a photo. I'm looking at a bunch of doctors standing around a kid's bed. One of the Doctors is Heidacker."

"_And?_" He questioned.

"And, this picture was taken in 1893." I explained, looking up to see Abigail's look of concern.

"_Are you sure?_" I heard Dean grind out.

I nodded, "Yeah." I confirmed, "As Abigail would say, as a heart attack." Abigail stared at me silently, a small smile at her lips, before she cringed and pulled her shirt over her mouth in another bout of dry, barking coughs. I frowned, _This isn't good._

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

**_Motel Room_**

Meeting Dean back to the motel had been an experience all on its own. Between having to explain why my head had a bandage on it, my coughing, and the discovery of the hand in the windowsill; Dean was _livid_. He paced around the room like some caged animal about to break loose, running his hands through his short hair, and cursing with every breath he took. A beer bottle collided into the wall, shattering upon impact as Sam sat on his bed while I was more or less tucked in the bed.

"We should have thought of this before. A doctor's a perfect disguise." Sam said, "You're trusted, you can control the whole thing."

Dean shrugged out of his jacket, slinging it to the foot of our bed, "That son of a _bitch_."

Sam watched him pace the room, agitatedly, "I'm surprised you didn't draw on him right there."

"Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a freakin' pediatrics ward." Dean spat out sarcastically, spinning on his heels as he turned towards us with narrowed eyes.

I pulled a face, sliding down into the bed, "Good call."

"Second, wouldn't have done any good, because the bastard's bullet proof unless he's chowing down on something." Dean continued as he flung his arms up for the fifth time, "And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a really good thing cause I probably would have just burned a clip in him on principle alone!" His hand flung towards the window, "And I would've without batting an eye if you had told me the bastard was chowing down on Abs!"

I grimaced at the way he worded that, and looked down at my stomach. _Why would he be after me? Could it be, he was after Cody?_ A flourish of anger lit in my stomach at the thought, before coughing, wincing from the pain in my chest. Dean's guilt-ridden eyes fell on me.

"You're getting wise in your old age, Dean." Sam said.

"Damn right. Cause now I know how we're going to get it." He said, looking over to Sam.

I breathed in deep a few times, trying to catch my breath, "What do you mean?" I wheezed out.

"Shtriga, works through siblings, right?" Dean said.

Sam and I nodded, "Right."

"Well last night..." Dean began.

"It went after Asher…and me, I guess." I said, "but that makes _no_ sense."

"Exactly, so I'm thinking tonight, it's probably gonna come after Michael." Dean stated, approaching me.

"Well, we gotta get him outta here." Sam said, "We gotta get Abigail outta here."

Dean shook his head, "No, and yes." Sam looked at him confused, "No, because that would blow the whole deal, and Abigail will have no part in this."

"What?" Sam asked, glancing at me. Dean was even glancing at me, expecting something of a protest.

"If ya'll are thinkin' I'm gonna argue," I sighed, "I'm not…or I would. I just have no energy." Dean clenched his jaw, eyes searching for something in mine.

"You wanna use the kid as bait? Are you nuts?" Sam protested for me, "No! Forget it. That's out of the question."

"It's not out of the question Sam, it's the only way." Dean countered.

"If this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance, Sammy." I said lightly, agreeing with Dean.

Sam's mouth gaped at me, "Michael's a kid. And I'm not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook."

"Dad did not send me here to walk away!" He said forcefully.

Sam scoffed, "Send _you_ here? He didn't send you here—he sent _us_ here; you, me, and Abigail."

"This isn't about you, Sam. I'm the one who screwed up, alright?" Dean said, shame-faced. I frowned, _this is new._ "It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me. And now, Abigail and my son?"

I furrowed my brows at him, worried. "What are you sayin', Dean?" I asked, "How is it your fault?" Dean looked down at his clenched hands in shame, not speaking.

"Dean," Sam urged gently, trying to wrap his head around why his brother felt so strongly of this.

"You've been hidin' somethin' from the get-go." I added.

Sam nodded in agreement, "Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away?" He asked, "Now talk to me, man. Tell us what's going on."

Dean let out a shaky breath, "Fort Douglas, Wisconsin. It was our third night in this crap room and I was climbing the walls." His face scrunched with guilt, shaking it as he looked up at Sam in a fragile state, "Man, I needed to get some air."

* * *

**_Dean's Point of View_**

**_Seventeen Years Ago_**

**_Fort Douglas, Wisconsin_**

**_Motel Room—Night_**

I sighed. There was nothing worth watching on the television and Sam had long since went to sleep. I needed to get out and stretch my legs for a second…just one second. It couldn't hurt, could it? I turned off the TV, tossing the remote on the couch before I stood up and walked over to the motel door, throwing a look over my shoulder at Sam's sleeping form. Everything was fine. With a curt nod of reassurance, I left the room, locking the door behind me as I left.

Time flew by as I played a round or two of _Space Invaders_, or at least, until the owner came up to me, "Kid. We're closing up." He said. I rolled my eyes, nodding to him as I turned in left.

_At least I got some time away from the whining and nagging_, I mused to myself as I entered the room. Upon entering, I saw a strange light coming from Sam's room. I swallowed down a lump in my throat as I creeped around the corner to see this hooded creature leaning over Sam. I reached for the rifle by the door and cocked it, which alerted the creature as it reared up, hissing at me.

I had the rifle ready. I was gonna kill it. But something made me stop from doing so. I glanced down to Sam quickly, _If I fired, would it hit Sam?_

The door to the motel burst open as Dad came through, gun raised, "Get out of the way!" He yelled out. I ducked when Dad shot the creature multiple times with his hand gun. In a blur, the creature jumped through the window, glass shattering as Dad rushed past me and over to Sam, pulling him close, cradling him.

"Sammy." Dad said with urgency, "Sammy, Sammy. You okay?"

Sam scrunched his face, delirious and sleepy from being shaken awake, "Yeah Dad, what's going on?"

"You alright?" He asked, checking over him. I stood in the doorway, frozen when Dad turned to me with a glare, "_What_. Happened."

I gulped, "I-I-I…I just went out."

"_What?!_" He roared out. I flinched, averting his eyes.

"Just for a second, I'm sorry." I said.

"I told you not to leave this room." He growled, "I told you not to let him out of your sight!"

Speechless, I hung my head, watching as Dad continued cradling Sam. It was my fault, I should've stayed. I could've killed him because I was selfish.

* * *

**_Abigail's Point of View_**

**_Motel Room_**

"Dad just ... grabbed us and booked." Dean explained, "Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away," he blew out a breath, "but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas the shtriga had disappeared, it was just gone." He looked back down at his hands with unshed tears glittering in his eyes. Sam and I were gob smacked at this confession. Dean had _never_ uttered this to either of us.

Dean blinked several times to rid himself of tears, "It never surfaced until now." He said, looking up to us, "You know, Dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask. But he...ah...he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse." Sam's mouth hung open in shock. Dean shrugged casually, in an attempt to stave off anymore emotions, "Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen, I almost got you killed."

Sam furrowed his brows, "You were just a kid."

Dean shook his head, "Don't." He said, "Don't. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me." He glanced to me, "He sent me here to finish it. And I'll be damned if anything happens to Abigail again, and me not here to stop it."

"But using Michael—," Sam began, "I don't know, Dean. I mean, how 'bout one of us hides under the covers?" He suggested, "You know, we'll be the bait."

Dean shook his head firmly, "No, it won't work. It's gotta get close enough to feed—it'll see us." He stared at me for a long time, resigned. "Believe me, I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid." He stated, "I can't let this thing touch you and hurt Cody in the process. And I promise that as soon as this is over, we'll go to the hospital and get you checked out."

I bit my lip, glancing to Sam, then back at him and nodded. I didn't like this plan either, but who was I to say that Michael was better off doing this than me?

* * *

**_Motel Reception_**

Michael was standing behind the counter, holding the telephone up at Dean, who was leaning against the counter, "You're crazy! Just go away or I'm calling the cops!" He threatened.

"Hang on a second. Just listen to me. You have to believe me, okay?" Dean told him. Michael glanced from him to me warily, "This thing came through the window and it attacked your brother. I've seen it. I know what it looks like. Cause it attacked my brother once, too." Dean bowed his head, "And it attacked my girlfriend last night too…she's pregnant."

Michael's eyes held my tired ones, slowly hanging up the phone, "This thing…is it…like…it has this long…black robe?" He asked, eyes shifting back to Dean as he found the right words to ask.

Dean blinked, "You saw it last night, didn't you?" I asked gently.

Michael hung his head, "I thought I was having a nightmare."

Dean gave him a broken look, "I'd give anything not to tell you this, but sometimes nightmares are real."

"So, why are you guys telling me?" He asked, looking between us.

"Because we need your help." I explained.

"My help?" He didn't sound very convinced in our story.

"We can kill it." Dean said, gesturing to me and Sam, "That's what we do. But we can't do it without you."

Michael's eyes grew wide, "What? No!"

"Michael, listen to me. This thing hurt Asher. And it's gonna keep hurting kids unless we stop it, understand me?" Dean told him, a little pointedly as Michael stared at us, horrified. From beside Dean, I inhaled deeply before I turned, coughing into my shirt until I became dizzy and wobbled. I felt Dean steady me with his hands when I wheezed out, short of breath. He furrowed his brows with concern and worry, placing a hand to my stomach in some form of reassurance that Cody was still kicking. After a moment of stillness, I felt a sharp pain in my side. It had been the tenth time that I was aware of Cody's movements that entire day.

I tasted blood and pulled my shirt away to see red speckling my collar. I glanced up at Dean, meeting his increasingly worried gaze, "C'mon." He said placing his hand at the small of my back, "We need to get you to lay down and rest."

I swallowed, grimacing at the coppery taste in my mouth, "Alright."

Inside the motel room, Dean pulled the covers up to my chin where he tucked them in, "Well, that went crappy." He muttered, "Now what?"

"What did you expect?" Sam asked, "You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid." He held his hand out for me to shut up, "Excluding you, Abigail."

There was a knock at the door as Dean opened it. I slowly rose up, seeing Michael standing before Dean, "If you kill it, will Asher get better?" he asked.

"Honestly? We don't know." Dean replied.

"You said you were a big brother?" He asked, seeing Dean nod.

"Yeah."

"You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?" He asked.

"Yeah, I would." Dean said softly.

Michael's head bobbed in agreement, "Me too. I'll help."

* * *

An hour had passed when Dean finished hooking up a security camera in the corner of Michael's room, staring into the lens. Sam and I watched him through the security feed in a nearby room, "This camera has night vision on it so we'll be able to see clear as day." He said to Michael, who was sitting in his bed, "Are we good?" he asked us.

"A hair to the right." I wheezed out, as Dean adjusted the camera, "There, there." He stepped back from it, turning to Michael.

"What do I do?" We heard Michael asked Dean, looking up at him hesitantly.

Dean moved to sit on his bed, "Just stay under the covers."

"And if it shows up?" He asked.

He gestured to the camera, "We'll be right in the next room We're gonna come in with guns," He said reassuring the boy, "So, as soon as we do, you roll off this bed and you crawl under it."

"What if you shoot me?" He asked. I smiled weakly at the boy, feeling the prick of tears in my eyes. He reminded me so much of Mikey. I felt Sam grab my hand and squeezed it in reassurance as I looked over at him.

"We won't shoot you. We're good shots." Dean said, "We're not going to fire until you're clear, okay?" Michael nodded at him tentatively, "Have you heard a gunshot before?"

"Like in the movies?" Michael asked him.

"It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. So, I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears, do not come out until we say so." Dean stated, "You understand?"

Michael nodded slowly, looking up at Dean, scared. Dean saw this and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Michael, you sure you want to do this?" he asked. Michael didn't say anything for a moment, "You don't have to, it's okay." Dean told him gently, "I won't be mad."

"No I'm okay." He said finally, "Just don't shoot me."

"We're not going to let anything happen to you. I promise." Dean said to him with sincerity in his voice. Michael nodded as Dean got up and left the room, pausing at the door and pointed to the camera, signaling him that we were close by.

* * *

**_Motel Room—Late Night_**

Sam, Dean, and I sat watching the security camera feed closely, glancing to the window near Michael's bed every other minute. Michael himself wasn't asleep, who could? Other than me, probably, cause I was in no condition to take a chance on shooting the thing.

Dean stretched his arms above his arms, "What times is it?" He asked, leaning forward with a worried glance to the window.

I rubbed my eyes, "Three." I muttered.

"You sure these iron rounds are gonna work?" Sam asked.

"Consecrated iron rounds, and yeah, it's what Dad used last time." Dean corrected him quietly, glancing over at him.

We fell silent for a beat. "Hey, Dean." Sam said, "I'm sorry."

Dean furrowed his brows, "For what?"

"You know, I've really given you a lot of crap, for always following Dad's orders." Sam said with sincerity in his voice, "But, I know why you do it."

Dean rolled his eyes at him, "Oh God, kill me now."

The three of us shared a laugh, falling silent again. My eyes fell to the feed and I stiffened, catching movement outside the window, "Wait, guys. Look." I whispered. Dean and Sam leaned forward, picking up their guns as the window slid open and the shtriga moved inside Michael's room. My blood ran cold at the thought of that thing being near me, sucking out part of mine and my child's life essence before moving onto another child. I clenched my hands, feeling utterly helpless that I couldn't do anything to help but sit and watch.

Sam glanced over to Dean, "Now?" he whispered.

Dean shook his head, "Not yet." The three of us watched on the edges of our seats when the shtriga moved closer and leaned over the bed until it was close enough to open his mouth, starting to draw Michael's energy from him. Michael looked terrified, frozen in place, and unable to do anything. Dean got up, Sam following behind him when Dean swung the door open.

"Hey!" Sam shouted out. The creature jerked up in surprise.

"Michael, down!" Dean instructed. There was a dull thump indicating me that he rolled off the bed as both Sam and Dean opened fire, shooting the shtriga multiple times each. It fell to the ground in a heap.

I leaned forward, biting the corner of my thumb and bobbed my knee up and down, growing frantic and nervous.

"Mike, you alright?" I heard Dean ask.

"Yeah." Came his reply from under the bed.

"Just sit tight." He instructed, approaching the heap that was the shtriga, gun at the ready. It laid still, causing Dean to relax and glanced over to Sam. A knot sat in my stomach as I rose up, grabbing my gun nearby when the shtriga suddenly rose, grabbed Dean by the throat and threw him against the wall.

"Dean!" Sam shouted before the creature moved for Sam, throwing him to the wall as well. When he hit the ground, the shtriga got on top of him and forced his mouth open. I wobbled into the room, taking aim at the creature's head when the shtriga began to draw out Sam's energy.

Dean rose to his feet. "Hey!" we called out in unison. The shtriga looked up from Sam and we shot it between the eyes. It fell backwards and Sam lie on the floor, gasping for breath.

I stayed leaning against the door when Dean rushed over to Sam's side, "You okay little brother?" I asked.

Sam nodded, unsteadily holding up a two thumbs-up at me. I blew out a breath when they both rose to their feet as I crossed the room, glancing to the fallen shtriga with caution. The energy the shtriga stole from the kids and myself slowly began to escape its mouth until Dean raised his gun, shooting it three more times at point blank range, causing more energy to escape quicker.

The creature fell in on itself before disintegrating. I heard a scuffle, turning to see that Michael was peeking from the side of the bed. I smiled at him gently, "It's okay, Mikey, you can come on out." I leaned into Dean for support when Michael crawled out from the bed and stood beside Dean and I, smiling tentatively. Dean placed his hand on his shoulder and smiled back at him.

* * *

**_Motel—Day_**

Sam and Dean were packing the Impala, ready to head out as Michael's mom, Joanna, walked out of the back of reception. I looked up at her with a smile, "Hey, Joanna. How's Asher doing?" I asked, as Dean straightened up upon her approaching us.

"Have you seen Michael?" She asked, looking around.

"Mom! Mom!" He said excitedly, running up to his mother with a grin.

She grinned at him, enveloping him in her arms, "Hey!"

"How's Ash?" He asked, looking up at her.

Joanna smiled, "Got some good news, your brother's gonna be fine."

"Really?" He asked excitedly.

She nodded, "Yeah. Really. No can explain it—it's a miracle." She said, looking to us, "They're going to keep him in overnight for observation and then he's coming home."

Dean wound his arm around my waist with a smile, "That's great."

"How are all the other kids doing?" Sam asked.

"Good. Real good." She said, "A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr. Travis says the ward's going to be like a ghost town."

I arched my brows, glancing at Dean with a knowing look, "Dr. Travis?" I asked, "What about Dr. Heidacker?"

"Oh, he wasn't in today." She replied, "Must have been sick or something."

Dean glanced down at me, "Yeah." He said, "Yeah, must have."

"So, did anything happen while I was gone?" Joanna asked Michael.

He glanced at us before shaking his head 'no', "Nah, same old stuff."

"Okay, you can go see Ash." Joanna said, turning away as they started discussing visiting Asher in the hospital.

"It's too bad." Sam said quietly.

Dean pulled a face, "Oh, they'll be fine." He said.

"That's not what I meant," Sam said quietly, "I meant Michael, he'll always know there are things out there in the dark—" Sam's shoulders lifted in a quick shrug, "he'll never be the same, you know?" He fell silent for a long moment, "Sometimes I wish that…"

"What?" I asked, tilting my head to the side out of curiosity.

"I wish I could have that kinda innocence." He admitted, looking over to us with puppy dog eyes in full effect. Dean and I watched Joanna and Michael drive away, deeply considering Sam's words.

"If it means anything," Dean said slowly, meeting Sam's gaze guiltily, "Sometimes, I wish you could too." I took Dean's hand and squeezed it softly, making him look at me once again, "You feelin' okay?"

I nodded, "Tolerable…not all, whiney and sluggish."

"What about the baby?" He asked, allowing his eyes to fall to my stomach where I placed his hand on my stomach that was literally rolling with kicks and punches.

"Actin' like a Winchester; kickin' ass and throwin' punches." I replied, seeing Dean's lips stretch out into a grin as he reached up to stroke my face with delicate fingers, and tipped his head to kiss me on the lips. The kiss itself was subtly sweet, and held an urgency that asked for forgiveness, that I gladly accepted.

Sam coughed into his hand rather loudly, causing Dean to break the kiss, arching his brow at him, "Dude." Sam grinned, patting the roof of the Impala as he opened the car door and got in. Dean rolled his eyes at him, handing him the keys through the window, "You're driving, you got the most sleep."

Gladly taking the keys, Sam scooted over and started the Impala as Dean held the door open for me and I slid in, Dean following suit, closing the door behind him as Sam pulled away from the motel; heading for the highway.

A few hours passed, we weren't exactly sure where we were at, and I liked it like that. The three of us were in silence, listening to The Beatles cassette I gotten Sam back in East Texas. Sam was in his own little world, like he was trapped within his thoughts, while Dean and I sat in the backseat. Dean was leaned up against the door, left leg stretched out across the seat with me wrapped in his arms in a secure hold.

"I'm sorry." I heard him whisper into my ear.

I leaned back, careening my head backwards to see him with a confused expression, "What for?"

"Everything?" He said in more of a question, "For the old woman, for acting like an asshat to you…Abs, I shouldn't have treated you like that on this job—"

"Dean, it's fine. I understand." I murmured, twisting my head back to look out of the window, "It's sentimental, and you had to finish it. I get it, I really do."

"No, you don't." He said, "Abs, you don't understand what I went through—what I felt when everything started to fall into place with the shtriga. And then Sam tells me you were attacked?" Dean hung his head, leaning it against mine. Out from the corner of my eye, I saw how broken he looked, "I couldn't let it happen again and me not doing something about it."

I held my breath for beat, wondering what else Sam had told him. _Did he tell him about me almost leaving?_ I shoved that thought down for a moment, "Dean, seein' those kids hooked up to those machines—" I moved a hand from Dean's hands to my stomach in self-reassurance, "and imaginin' our kid hooked up to them…it scared me somethin' awful. It puts a knot in my stomach when I even think about it…and thinkin' to Michael, how he lost that innocence and naivety he had—" I couldn't say it aloud, but judging from the way Dean's arms had gotten tighter around me and the gentle kiss to my head, I knew Dean figured it out.

"Nothing's gonna happen to Cody as long as I'm alive, Abs." He promised, "I'm not sure how we can keep what we do in the dark, but I know we can until he tries to understand where we go, why we stay so long in motels. After that, I don't know where to go from there, and that's what scares the shit outta me."

I nodded in agreement, "Me too."

So, the both of us stood on mutual ground on that one. That was going to be tough when the time arises to explain everything to our child. In a way, I was thankful that it was going to be a long while until the questioning stage was a ways away.

* * *

**Chapter 19 is out! Holy cow, four more to go until Season 2! ****-screams with excitement- I'm over the moon for accomplishing this!**

**I want to apologize to you guys for taking so long on this update! Things have been hectic on the home front and my screen time with _Bad Company_ has been brief. Thankfully I was able to get it finished today! I really hope that things made sense in this chapter, and if they don't, just let me know in a PM! (:**

**I also want to let ya'll know that I will be starting my classes back Dec. 4th, so whether my writing time is affected or not, I don't know, but I'm sure it won't. I just want to let ya'll know ahead of time.**

* * *

********I want to thank you guys-the readers. I seriously enjoy reading ya'll's reviews, they make me smile and therefore, makes my heart smile. I couldn't ask for any better people! c:********

****************Ladysunshine6-Who didn't love that scene? I thought it was just precious! haha.****************

************************angelicedg\- Thank you! I loved writing the ending scene! It brought a tear to my eye and I clapped to myself so many times, to the point that it wasn't weird at all! haha.************************

**********************************************ebonywarrior85********\- Thank you dahling! I'm glad you liked it! (:**********************************************

**********************************************wideawakepastmidnight\- OH MY CHUCK, I LOVE YOUR REVIEWS. You definitely know how to make someone smile like an idiot and can't even! Ugh! I enjoyed writing that scene so much, and I am so glad to know that you feel the way you do! I _always_ look forward to your reviews! I sincerely hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did! (:**********************************************

**********************************************************************************SassyGrl23\- Thank you! I know right?**********************************************************************************

**As for Guest reviewers (past, present, and future), I love you guys and I can't express how much I appreciate your reviews!**

**To new readers, I hope you guys are enjoying this fanfic! If ya'll want to, just drop a little review or PM telling me how I'm doing, what I could do to spruce this to your liking, or just to simply say hi! I seriously love all of you and I just wanted to let everyone know that this wouldn't be possible if it weren't you all!**

* * *

**I'd like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. All credit goes to the respected franchise.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**ALSO. I want everyone to check out my buddy, Ladysunshine6's _first_ fanfiction story, _It Ain't Easy in the Big Easy, _and show her some love and support! She's got around six chapters out, and I think it would mean a lot to her as a writer if ya'll could drop by and also help get some of those creative juices flowing! It has a lot of promise! I will be posting this at the end of each chapter. She is seriously the best person ever and is so helpful!**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles! c:**


	22. Provenance

_**WARNING: **_**This chapter contains smut! If you don't like it, then feel free to skip ahead! Thanks! (:**

* * *

_**July 11**__**th**__**, 2006**_

_**Bar—New York**_

The atmosphere in the bar was lively, hence it being a Friday. Patrons were gathered on the dance floor swaying their bodies to and fro in the rhythm of _The Hand That Feeds_ by Nine Inch Nails, as the bass rumbled throughout the establishment in a hypnotic beat. Smoke clung to the ceiling in a wispy haze, like any other bar atmosphere would have.

I sat in between Sam and Dean, treating myself to a non-alcoholic Miami Vice, and lemme tell you, it was amazing. The fact that Dean had argued me up and down that they didn't have any such thing, and got proved wrong, made it that much better. Dean drank down the last of his beer, setting the empty bottle down onto the table with a belch.

I snorted out of amusement, looking over at him with an arched brow, "That was attractive."

He looked back at me with that infuriating grin of his while picking up a fry and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Dean took his hand and smacked my thigh playfully, "I'm gettin' another beer, want another pregatini or whatever it is?" He asked. I smiled at him, shaking my head.

"Nah, I'm good, still workin' on this'n." I replied, holding up the still full glass. He rolled his eyes at me and slid out of the booth, walking to the bar. Sam and I remained at the table until I wanted to get up and dance. I started to bob my head up and down to the beat, before my whole body was bobbing and I turned to Sam with a grin, "Let's go dance."

Sam looked up from a newspaper, then glanced out to the dance floor, "I don't dance."

I stared at him, "You're a party pooper, Sam."

He lifted his shoulders in an apologetic shrug, "Sorry, Abs."

I rolled my eyes, tapping my manicured nails against the table a few times before sliding out of the booth, "I'll get Dean then." I stated, shrugging out of my cropped moto jacket, setting it in the seat beside him until I was standing in a black, rouched top, a pair of distressed skinny jeans, and a pair of ankle strap sandals that I had been eyeing for some time. Not to mention they didn't kill my feet like heels did.

"Good luck with that." He said with a huff of breath, returning to the newspaper, smirking. I rolled my eyes at him. _Always researching, I swear the boy's a stick in the mud_. I mused, approaching Dean halfway. He looked at me confused, holding his beer in his hand.

"What're you doing?" He asked.

"I'm want to dance and Sam won't go with me, so all that's left if you." I said casually, ignoring the odd looks of different patrons when they passed by.

Dean huffed, taking a swig of his beer, "Oh, honey, I don't do dancing." He said after swallowing a pull of his drink.

I arched my brow, "You have before, and don't even get me started on your little show you put on for me the other night." I crossed my arms, seeing his face flush a dull shade of pink under the dull lighting of the bar.

"You liked it and you know it." He said in a haughty tone, peering down at me with a raised brow. I shrugged at him, waving him off.

"Ya'll suck." I said, throwing a smile at him from over my shoulder, "I'm takin' my pregnant ass out there until I give out or give birth, one."

Dean's brows rose when I walked past him and over to the DJ, leaning down to talk to him. In all honesty, I felt great. I had more energy today than I have ever felt in a long time, and to boot, I was in an overly playful mood. If Dean Winchester was gonna play hard to get, then by God, hard to get is what he was gonna get.

Sean Paul's recent release of _Temperature _had been my recent favorite song to dance to, so when I asked the DJ to play it, he gave me a nod of approval. I grinned in thanks, glancing up to see Dean watching me amused, and undoubtingly close from the table; probably wondering what I was up to until the first few strains of _Temperature_ started blasting through the speakers. In all my pregnant glory, I sauntered down from the DJ's stage onto the dance floor where I flaunted what I had, regardless of my prominent twenty-four week baby bump. I saw Dean roll his eyes, a toothy grin gracing his handsome visage, as he threw his head back into an amused chuckle. That was expected of him, letting me stray far enough away to let me have my fun and feel like my old self again.

What was unexpected was the attention I got for doing so. A man, roughly about the same height of Sam had found his way to me, earning a furtive glance towards Dean, knowing how possessive he had been as of late. The guys wasn't bad looking…he was scruffy; donning the scruffy beardy thing, like how Dean's face got after a few days of not shaving, tousled coppery-brown hair, and gorgeous green eyes. He wore a pair of expensive looking jeans, a form-fitting black shirt, a black leather jacket, and the cologne he wore had a leathery-woodsy musk to it. It was tantalizing to be honest, but nothing compared to whatever concoction Dean had.

From where I was at on the floor, I could see that Dean had his gaze fixated solely on me, taking a long-drawn on pull of his beer before he peeled off his jacket, exposing the simple, teal button-up shirt and black undershirt he wore. I grinned to myself, looking back up to the Sam-sized fellow I had been dancing with, and laughed as he twirled me around in front of him, before he clasped his hands onto my hips, and gyrated our bodies to the rhythm of the song. By the time the song had ended, I smiled to the guy and pulled away from him, approaching Dean when I noticed he had made his way towards me.

"Thought you didn't dance," I teased, when he reached me, placing his hands on my hips and pulled me as close as my stomach would allow.

"I don't." He said, "I just don't like the way frosted-flakes had you." I pursed my lips in a smug expression when the first few chords of _I Just Want To Dance With You_ by George Strait began playing. Dean chuckled, keeping a hand on my waist and took my left hand in his as we started to move smoothly to the song; _I don't want to be the kind to hesitate…Be too shy, wait too late…I don't care what they say other lovers do…I just want to dance with you…_

"_I gotta feeling that you have a heart like mine…So let it show, let it shine…If we have a chance to make one heart of two…I just want to dance with you_." Dean sang along, pressing his forehead against mine as he slid his hand to my stomach with a smile. I smiled up at him, swearing to myself when I thought I saw the sun, moon, and stars dancing around in his eyes.

"Thought you didn't like George Strait." I murmured, seeing him laugh.

"One can only listen to something so long until it's tolerable," He replied, throwing back a quote that had been exchanged a few years back. I rolled my eyes at him, humming, as he twirled me around before pulling me back close against him. He hummed, enjoying the closeness we had throughout the song, "Been getting people laid and drunk since the 80s."

I snorted with laughter, "Must you cheapen the moment?"

"Yeah." He replied with a boyish grin. We shared a laugh as another song picked up, causing us to sway. Taking Dean's hands in mine, I twisted around until my back was up against him, keeping his hands on my waist as we rocked back and forth to the beat. It was a good song too. _Harder to Breathe_ by Maroon 5 was my wild guess, and besides, Adam Levine was a total hottie.

I felt Dean slide his hands up and down my waist when I leaned into him, sliding an arm above my head until I was able to drag my fingertips along his jawline in a delicate and intimate manner. He tipped his head down to my exposed neck, trailing hot kisses along the exposed flesh with a nip of his teeth here and there. A flame had lit itself deep within me by the intimate gesture.

He spun back around so that I could face him, seeing his eyes smoldering with a primal desire residing within them, and we kissed. It was nothing short of playful and risqué bites and nips. In the midst of our kiss, I pulled away capturing Dean's bottom lip between my teeth, biting it with a little force to where it was a hair between being pleasurable and pain. A low, rumbling groan escaped from his throat upon me doing that, and I let him go with wicked grin.

"You keep it up, we'll have to get another room." He warned, half-hoping things would escalate.

I slid my hands up and down his chest, "We do."

His brows rose, "Really?" He stated, throwing a glance to Sam, who had been gesturing for us to come over to him. He held up a finger, telling him he needed to wait his turn. "When'd this happen?"

"Uh, when I walked in and paid for the rooms?" I said, seeing him grin, capturing my face in his hands and kissed me deeply, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. In that moment, I had lost myself to the intoxicating kiss, completely forgetting that we were on the threshold of a potential job until Cody kicked my ribs. I jerked back, grabbing my side with a grimace. Dean looked at me with furrowed brows, concern radiating off of him.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

I gave him an apologetic smile, "Sorry…Cody has this thing where he kicks my ribs…and it hurts."

Dean glanced over to the table where Sam was at with a frown, "Well, then I'm taking it as a sign you've made your quota on dancing for a while. I don't plan on having a kid this early." I laughed, wrapping an arm around his waist as he led me to the bar where he ordered two beers and another non-alcoholic Miami Vice for me. Getting our drinks, I sucked the whipped cream off the top of the stick of the umbrella and tucked it behind Dean's ear with a grin, earning an unimpressed look from Sam.

"Alright, I think we got something." He said to us.

Dean and I glanced at each other, "Oh yeah, me too. I think Abs and I need to take a little shore leave, just a little bit." He said, holding his fingers together, leaving a small space. Upon seeing the stony gaze from his brother, Dean rolled his eyes, "C'mon, man, I'm climbing the walls here!"

"Yeah," I agreed, "We've been taking jobs left and right. Besides, I'm sure we could hook you up with those two." I said, gesturing towards the girls.

"No thanks, I can get my own dates." Sam replied.

"Yeah, you can, but you don't." I added, resting my hand on my stomach.

Sam narrowed his eyes at me, "What is that supposed to mean?"

I pulled a face, "Nothing, I'm jus' sayin', Sammy, we've been workin' our asses off for the past week and a half, and you have a five, six month pregnant woman and a red-blooded American man that ain't had none in a…week and a half."

Sam arched his brow at us, "You guys don't have to have sex every time we have a break in between." He looked at me, "That's what got you pregnant, remember?" Dean and I exchanged a glance at each other.

Dean shrugged, "'s not like she's gettin' any worse, Sam. Now, what you got?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago." He explained when Dean leaned into me, kissing my neck again, "Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons…" Sam looked at Dean incredulously, "Guys! Seriously! Get a room!"

Dean smirked, "We already do."

Sam shook his head, "No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside." He finished.

Dean took a pull from his beer, "Could just be a garden variety murder you know, not our department." I sipped my Miami Vice, looking thoughtfully at both the brothers, and half-hoping this wasn't our gig.

"No, Dad says different." Sam said.

"What do you mean?" I asked, watching Sam point at the map.

"Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912," He explained, pointing to the first dot, "Second one right here in 1945," his finger moved to the second location, "and the third in 1970, the same M.O. as the Telescas." He concluded, tapping the last location and leaned back, "Their throats were slit, doors were locked from the inside. Now, so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one."

" And now we got one." Dean said thoughtfully. He patted my leg with a wry smirk, "Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out." He then looked back at Sam, "We can't pick this up 'til first thing though, right?"

Sam let out an irritated sigh, "Yeah."

Dean and I grinned. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek, "Thank you, Sammy!" I said as Dean grabbed my hand, leading me towards the front door.

"See ya in the morning, little brother!" Dean called back to him over his shoulder. Tonight was gonna be good indeed.

* * *

_**Street—Morning**_

I was so totally wrong. Last night just seemed to have been a good idea, but now Sam had misinterpreted the 'first thing in the morning' deal, he had Dean and me up, literally at the ass crack of dawn. As in, before the ass crack of dawn. There wasn't even a dawn, I shit you not.

Sleeping in would've been downright amazing, and whatever energy I had the previous night, it wasn't there this morning. Of course, I wasn't hungover like Dean, but I definitely felt something when I had to get up.

The sun finally had risen, allowing things to open, like local businesses and whatnot. Sam had driven us around, hypothesizing different ideas and asking dead end questions in a sort of payback mannerism. It was all for naught, however. Dean and I both fell asleep in the backseat, leaning on each other for support.

The next thing we knew, we were jumping a mile away from each other, startled at the sound of a car horn blaring, and shouted out in surprise. Despite my heart in my throat, nerves shot, and about to pee on myself, I saw a hand on the horn, realizing that it was Sam's. Dean and I leaned our heads back.

"Man that is so not cool." Dean chided, adjusting his sunglass that had become askew in our moment of being startled awake.

"Need I remind you that I'm pregnant?" I added, squinting up at him from the sun shining in my eyes. I took a deep breath, feeling a series of jerking and flopping in my stomach, causing me to wince and rub a soothing hand across my stomach where Cody's body was at, "You cause me to go into labor, you'll be deliverin'."

Dean then took off his sunglasses, scrubbed his face with his hands, and put them back on, "Don't do that. I don't think I could watch that."

Sam got in the driver's seat, laughing at us, "I just swept the Telescas with EMF." He said, ignoring our complaining, "It's clean, and last night, while you two were…well…busy…"

Dean smirked, leaning his head against the window, "Good times."

"I checked the history of the house. Nothing strange about the Telescas." Sam finished, glaring at his comment. I smirked, looking over to Dean with a smug expression.

Dean nodded, "Alright, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents."

"Cursed object or somethin'." I muttered, scooting up into the back seat. My back felt like it was about to break, so I leaned forward and crossed my arms on the back of the front seat.

Sam adjusted the rearview mirror to look at us better, "The house is clean."

"Yeah, I know, you just said that." I said, throwing him dirty look.

Sam shook his head, "No, I mean, it's empty. No furniture, nothing." He clarified, earning a confused look from me.

I looked over to Dean, who had sat up straighter in the seat, "Where's all their stuff?" He asked, growing a little perplexed at that.

* * *

_**Auction House**_

This place was hoity-toity as hoity-toity came. I assumed that this was the life of the rich and famous, meandering through art galleries and auction houses to primp up their mansions, cottages, and log homes. I looked at many pieces in distaste thinking that at some point in time, my parents had done this, and consequentially, I had dressed for the occasion without realizing it while Dean and Sam had stuck out like sore thumbs in their casual, rough clothing.

"Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me." I heard Dean say as we passed a table that had several finger foods, picking up a few of the _hors d'oeuvres_ and stuffed our faces as we passed a long, antique mirror. I paused, earning a curious look from Dean when I looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't look half bad considering how I felt. My hair was up in a simple twisty bun that I had concocted in the matter of minutes, I wore a long, flowy champagne colored gown that went down past my feet and felt like I was wearing a cloud, and finally the same pair of ankle-strapped sandals from last night.

"You look hot." I heard Dean say through chewing.

I looked over at him with a small smile, "You would say that."

He shrugged, "It's scary, cause you look like you fit in here."

My brow lifted at that, "Oh?"

"You kinda do." Sam said, joining us at the mirror, looking our reflections up and down.

I snorted, "Gee, thanks."

"Can I help you?" A voice behind us asked. We turned, seeing a man dressed in a black suit and tie—he looked very distinguished, like the rest of the people in this place. He was about average height and his hair was graying, but most of all, he held an expectant look awaiting an answer.

Dean reached over, putting more food in his mouth, "I'd like some champagne please." He said, which was kind of challenging due to the mouthful of food.

"He's not a waiter." I said sharply, earning a look from Dean and an approving look from Sam.

Sam held his hand out, "I'm Sam Conners." The man looked at him, not moving to extend his hand. I arched my brow at him, _rude much?_ Instead, Sam gestured his hand to Dean, "This is my brother, Dean," He then motioned to me, "And this is his wife, Abigail. We're art dealers," he said quickly, throwing us a glance, "with…Conner's Limited."

The man arched his brow, "You two…are art dealers?" he asked with a smirk.

"That's right," Sam said, "Though, she's more of the dealer, we're just do the heavy-lifting in her condition." He said, motioning to my prominent stomach. The man glanced towards me, eyeing me closely. I had stood straighter, mirroring his stink-eye, while he pursed his lips together in contemplation.

"I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house." He said, "Now, gentleman…and lady, I don't remember seeing you on the guest list."

"We're there chuckles, you just need to take another look." Dean told him in a smart-assed manner. I arched my brow at him, maybe he wasn't coping with his hangover as well as I had thought. A waiter walked by with drinks on a tray, "Oh. Finally." He said, swiping a glass before turning back to us, sniffing the glass. His brows rose at him, taking me by the arm and walked away. It was overall amusing to see him a little frustrated and moody. I think it was good for him every now and then.

"Cheers." I heard Sam say to Blake before joining us in haste, throwing Dean a dirty look. It went unnoticed. In our moment of being wealthy patrons, we checked out several expensive items that was up for auction, until my eye caught sight of a painting of a family. I blinked, making my way over to it. Sam and Dean followed behind closely, taking in the portrait.

"A fine example of American Primitive, wouldn't you say?" A woman's voice said from behind. Again, we turned to see a sleek, classy, and extremely attractive-looking woman in a black dress descending down a flight of stairs to join us. She was a brunette, donning her hair in a sleek bun with a few tendrils of hair, framing her face. She was beautiful, nonetheless. Sam had turned back to the portrait of the family while Dean was still ogling. I rolled my eyes at him with an amused smile.

"Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did." Sam replied, looking back at her. I blinked a few times and looked between the two, impressed.

She looked down with a smile, "Guilty. And clumsy." She extended her hand, "I apologize, I'm Sarah Blake."

"I'm Sam," He replied, "This is Abigail, and my…brother, Dean." He said slowly, upon seeing Dean continuing on stuffing his face from the passing trays. The man was eating more than me, and I was pregnant! Maybe the tides had turned.

"Dean," Sarah said, giving him a look that was something between appraisal and amusement, "can we get you some more mini-quiche?"

Dean chewed thoughtfully, "I'm good, thanks."

"So, can I help you with something?" Sarah asked, turning to Sam.

"Yeah, actually." Sam said, "What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?"

"The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds—even the rich ones." She replied with a coy smile. I arched my brow, glancing over to Sam who had been oblivious. I looked over to Dean to see if he had noticed the little bit of chemistry between the two. Judging by the twinkle in his eyes, he did.

"Is it possible to see the provenances?" Sam asked her.

"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." Daniel Blake announced, approaching us.

"Why not?"

"You're not on the guest list." He stated, "And I think it's time to leave." Blake concluded, giving us all a stern look.

Dean gave him a haughty look, "Well, we don't have to be told twice."

"Apparently you do." Blake replied rudely. In return, Dean raised his brows at him, turned on his heels, and walked off while Sam, Sarah, and I exchanged looks. Sarah's was more along the lines of being embarrassed by her father, and slightly appalled by how he was acting. Sam placed a hand at the small of my back, following Dean.

Behind us, I heard Sarah utter something to her father, kinda like, "Dad, that was just rude."

* * *

_**Motel**_

Dean grabbed our bags from the trunk, letting me close it behind him when he turned, walking towards our motel room. Here we were, the three of us sharing a room again, not that I didn't mind. Personally, I liked it that way so that we were able to look out after each other like when we were younger.

"Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?" Dean asked with a scoff.

Sam grinned, "Art history course, it's good for meeting girls."

I patted him on the shoulder with a snort, "Coulda fooled me, Sammy," I said unlocking the door, "'s like I don't even know you!" We shared a laugh as I opened the door and walked through, pausing upon seeing the interior with my mouth agape. Sam and Dean collided with my back at my sudden halt, "Oh sweet lord, what fresh hell is this?" I said, looking from one corner of the room to the other.

Our motel room looked like we had stepped from the present, directly into the 70s and had no time to adjust to the monotonous colors of black and white walls and awkward shapes of the circular wallpaper. It had an ongoing pattern of monotony, circles, and even the occasional disco balls.

_Someone was a fan of Saturday Night Fever_, I thought when Sam and Dean took in the room behind me with a brief, "Huh." They moved in behind me.

"What was…providence?" Dean asked, placing my extra bag on the bed as means of claiming our spot, casually tossing our bag in the corner.

"Prov-e-nance." Sam corrected, "It's a certificate of origin, like a biography. You know we can use them to check the history of the pieces, see if any of them have a freaky past."

"Huh." He said thoughtfully, "Well, we're not getting anything out of chuckles, but Sarah…" I threw Dean a coy grin when he snapped his fingers at Sam with a raised brow and a grin that matched mine.

Sam smirked at us, "Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin."

Dean laughed, looking at his brother, "Not me."

Sam looked between us and laughed awkwardly, "No, no, no. Pick-ups are your thing, Dean."

"'sides, it wasn't Dean's ass she was lookin' at." I added with a smirk, earning a slightly offended stare from Dean. I shrugged, "Sorry, Hugh, we're supposed to be married, remember?" Dean arched his brow at me. I raised my hands in defense, "You take that up with baby big bro."

We all exchanged a look, "In other words, you want me to use her to get information." Sam deadpanned, looking from me to Dean.

Dean chuckled, "Sometimes you gotta take one for the team."

"Can't do it in this shape," I added gesturing over my stomach with a shrug.

"Call her." Dean urged…more like finalized.

And just like that, Sammy boy was finally going on a date. Oh, they grow up so fast.

* * *

_**Motel Room**_

Sam had been gone now for over an hour, and Dean and I were watching _Day After Tomorrow_ on HBO in silence. I had positioned myself so that I had curled myself around Dean, placing my stomach against his lower back, my knees tucked in between his left knee, and my head propped up on my right hand that I had balled into a fist. In front of Dean and around us laid every knife we had to our name, as well as a whetstone, and was methodically working his way through them.

"You know, this kid comes in handy." Dean murmured, sharpening a knife.

I chuckled knowingly, "He might be handy for your back, but he's hell on my ribs." My eyes flitted to the TV screen seeing the two elderly couple covered in ice. Dean's eyes followed mine and frowned.

"I wished you find something else to watch." He grumbled, taking the knife he had and started to sharpen it quickly with rough motions.

I frowned, "Why?" I asked.

His silence was greeted by the police officer telling a part of the group to not bother with them, and I mouthed 'oh', "Dean, whatever happened in Colorado was a long time ago."

"Three years, Abs." He snapped.

"That's a long time," I murmured, sliding my hand along his right thigh tenderly.

He set the knife and whetstone down with a sigh, "It doesn't feel like it to me."

I fell silent, biting my lip in deep thought, "What did happen?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He said quietly, "Just…leave it alone, alright?"

I took my hand off his thigh in an act of defeat, "Whatever floats your boat, but you have to tell me some point in time, Winchester."

He turned his head to look at me with an arched brow, "Yeah, I'll tell you about it when Hell freezes over."

I snorted, "I got ways to make you talk."

The corner of his lips turned into a smirk, "Oh?"

I pursed my lips, nodding my head in a cocky manner, "I got many, many ways."

Dean rolled his eyes, chuckling, "I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

"I do, I do." I replied, slowly sitting up behind him and rose up to my knees, placing my hands on Dean's shoulders and started kneading. Instantly, his shoulders dropped and leaned into me with a soft groan, "You know, we've come a long way…" Dean hummed in agreement when my hands went to either side of the back of his neck and he tiled it forward, his body shivering from the touch, "From us hatin' each other's guts to, well, havin' a kid with each other."

"I never hated you, Abs." Dean said, trying to look back at me. Instead, I grabbed a handful of his hair and raked his scalp with my nails. He hissed in a sharp breath, silencing him for a moment.

I then pulled his head to the right, exposing his neck, "Then, you and I remember Michigan _very _differently." I murmured, pressing my lips against his exposed flesh. Dean's body jerked in reaction, "Especially when Dad and Sam wasn't around."

"I was an ass," he replied, feeling the vibration of his voice in his throat. I nipped at the sensitive skin behind his ear, earning another groan, "A major ass." I smirked at his response, pulling his head up, running my other hand through his hair, raking my nails in the process. I done this a few times, amused by how his body reacted in quivers and jerks. He let an occasional sigh or groan escape showing that he was enjoying whatever it was I was doing.

I took my left hand, taking a fistful of his hair, and pulled his head to the left, exposing the left side of his neck, "So, what was the deal in Colorado?" I murmured, planting a trail of delicate kisses down from his neck to the collar of his shirt, "The only thing I remember was us fighting, and then I got cold…like, really, really cold."

"I was an ass, and it almost got you killed." He replied, guilty. He pulled away, twisting around to look at me. His eyes held a troubled look, like whatever happened was entirely his fault, "Now, I don't want to talk about it anymore, and I don't want you to ask me about either. Understand?"

I tilted my head with a frown. I didn't understand him, and I didn't understand why he couldn't tell me…but in a sense, I understood that some things were better left unsaid. I finally nodded, taking his face in my hands and kissed him gently, "Okay." I told him softly, seeing him gaze at me with a thankful look, "Just tell me when you're ready, alright?"

Quietly, he nodded, his gaze falling back down to my lips, licking his bottom lip for a second. I smiled softly, knowing what he wanted and kissed him again. He pulled away, looking at me, "You think we got enough time?"

I shrugged, "I'm sure we do."

Dean straightened up, gathering all the knives on the bed, and got up, setting them on Sam's bed, leaning over quickly to grab the whetstone and tossed it easily so that it didn't bounce off and get lost. He's lost four like that. I laughed softly at how quickly he was removing his button-up and shirt, before returning to the bed and captured my lips with his. He pressed forward, making me lean until I was pretty well lying on my back.

The kiss itself was every bit as eager as what Dean was, tugging my shirt up with one hand, then broke away, staring down at my swollen stomach with admiration. I bit my lip, not really enjoying how grotesque my body was getting. I made myself glance over to another part of the room until Dean gently maneuvered my face to look at him, "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," I murmured, trying to stop myself from pulling my shirt back over my stomach.

He gazed down at me with a smirk, "Babe, don't tell me you're uncomfortable without a shirt on."

"I'm fat," I muttered, "I don't even know why you wanna look at me."

Dean sat up with a scoff, "Abigail, you're not _fat_, you're _pregnant—_carrying _my_ child," he said, "That is something I can't thank you enough for." I furrowed my brows at him, and he sighed, "I don't know how many times I gotta tell you, you stubborn assed woman." He murmured, coming down on all fours, hovering above my stomach before he bowed his head to kiss me softly. He pulled away about an inch, gazing at me with a soft smile, "And if anyone asked, I would do it over again."

"Really?" I asked.

He nodded, "Absolutely." I smiled, taking his face in my hands and kissed him once more. Dean had gotten himself way ahead of the game, crushing mine until we had succumbed to a passionate, entanglement of our tongues and the occasional clack of our teeth. His hands made quick work of my shirt and bra, taking only a second to pull them off which was a second too long away from me. Like my shirt, my sweatpants had been tossed aside carelessly, followed by his jeans and finally, our underwear, leaving us stark naked.

I relaxed back into the pillows, feeling Dean press against my waist with his, the head of his erection blazing hot against my thigh, earning a gasp to escape from me. I felt Dean's lips curl against mine in satisfaction, pulling away to stare at me for beat. The both of us were breathing rapidly, my heart was hammering against my chest, and it was as if nothing could go wrong at the moment. Everything in this was perfect—it was just us.

Things kicked back in as Dean tipped my head sideways, pressing his mouth against my neck with feverish kisses. I shivered as tiny jolts of bliss skittered across my skin, gripping at his arm with a small, breathy moan passing my lips. In response, Dean bucked his hips against mine, "You're driving me crazy," he murmured into my neck, dragging his lips from the base of my neck to my collarbone where his clamped down. I shuddered underneath him, moaning out loud.

And he says _I'm_ driving him crazy, _ha!_

I ran my hands over his chiseled arms, running the tips of my fingers down the familiar contours and bulges of his muscles, before running my hands down his chest, and down his stomach. That was when Dean pulled away from me, brilliant hazel eyes staring down at me, scorching with hunger, "Go to the edge of the bed." He instructed, breathing heavily. I furrowed my brows at him, confused, until he stood, staring at me expectantly as he began stroking himself.

Obediently, I scooted down in the bed with the tips of my toes on the carpet, biting my lip in apprehension. Dean grabbed the pillows from the head of the bed, placing them behind me, and gently placed a hand on my shoulder, pushing me backwards. I blew out a soft breath when Dean followed suit, sliding his hand down my side until his fingertips were the only thing touching me, then grasped my hips with both hands before he slowly entered, inch by inch, until he filled me. Tremors of ecstasy caused my body to quiver at the feeling of him stretching me.

My breath hitched in my throat sharply when he had hit the bottom, taking a moment to reacquaint our bodies once again. A soft, sighing moan elicited from my mouth when Dean eased himself almost fully out, and a groan joined mine when he slid back in, deep and slow a couple of times. He withdrew again, quicker this time, and thrust back in, gradually building up the pace until was beginning to become difficult for me to keep my eyes open.

Dean ran his left hand down my thigh, keeping his pace even, and hooked my leg around his waist, keeping a firm grip on my hip with his entire forearm against the length of my thigh. His right hand left my waist capturing both of my wrists, bringing it over my head as he captured my lips again in a fierce kiss. His ministrations were slow and very aware of what he was doing, ensuring that he didn't get too carried away. Dean then groaned into my mouth when he thrust his hips quickly, eliciting another moan from me.

A wave of scorching heat swept over my entire body; every part tingling, until the both of us had reached our breaking point. Dean's entire body stilled over mine, his hips bucking in short, quick movements as his chest heaved from breathing so hard. His mouth was agape, eyes widened from his release, and like a sated 'possum, his lips stretched over his teeth in a grin, "Your turn."

After a lengthy romp and a much needed shower afterwards, Dean and I found ourselves lying on the bed in a mess of limbs, watching _America's Funniest Videos_ on a local station. Dean's fingers had wound themselves in my hair, running the entire length before starting back at the root in a lulling motion.

"You reckon Sammy's enjoyin' his date?" I asked, peering up at him.

"He's not called or come back, so who knows?" He replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Maybe he's spending the night out."

I laughed, "Lord knows the boy needs it." Dean let out a throaty chuckle, pressing his lips against my forehead.

"Yeah, maybe he can stay off our asses every once in a while." He mused, nuzzling the side of my face, "We may even get to have a round two." He suggested pulling away, waggling his brows in a suggestive manner.

I laughed at him, "Our round two's already happened. Anymore and I'll have the baby early."

He arched a brow, "What do you mean?"

"Sex is a natural inducer for labor." I said with a small shrug.

"And you know this how?" He asked.

"…I read about it." I replied, seeing him begin grinning.

"And would this be from some weird parenting book?" I flushed in embarrassment, "Cause I think I saw one in your bag."

"…maybe."

Dean shrugged, "Hey, don't gotta be embarrassed, babe. You do what you gotta do." I smiled at him, tipping my head back to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, "Just let me read it when you're done." He pulled away, "And don't Sam about it."

I laughed, rolling my eyes at him, "Already read it four times, have at it big boy." I said, gesturing to the bag. Dean chuckled, then looked to the door to the motel room when it opened.

"Well, speak of the devil," Dean said with a grin as Sam stepped into the room, undoing his tie, "How was it?"

Sam glanced at us innocently, throwing us a casual shrug, "It was good."

Dean and I sat up, "And?" We asked.

"That's it." He replied, shrugging out of his blazer, "I'm gonna take a shower."

Dean and I looked at each other with grins.

By the time Sam had come out of the shower, Dean and I had returned to what we had been doing prior to our romp; watching TV and sharpening knives. Sam went into _slight_ detail of what he and Sarah done on their date, mostly talking about the information she was telling him.

"So, she just handed the providences over to you." Dean stated, running a blade across the whetstone.

"Provenances." Sam corrected, looking up from the papers he had.

"Provenances?" Dean haltingly mimicked his brother.

"Yes. We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers…" He walked over to me, handing the papers over so I could look over them.

"And?" Dean asked, setting down the whetstone and knife in order to take a drink of his beer.

"And nothing." Sam said, throwing Dean a dirty look, "That's it. I left."

"You didn't have to con her or do any…_special_ favors or anything like that?" Dean asked, "Cause, lemme tell you, Abs has this move that could break down the Great Wall of China—" He moved his hands into an illustration of an explosion, and even backed it up with a sound, "I'll tell her anything she wants to hear after that."

I snorted with laughter, covering my face with the papers when Sam twisted his face in disgust, "Ugh, Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please, and _not_ tell me about you two's weird sex thing?"

Dean laughed heartily, "You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit," He suggested, "You know, take a break from everything…maybe even wait until Abs has the baby."

Sam furrowed his brows, glancing at us, "Why?"

"So you could take her out again," I stated, smiling encouragingly at Sam.

"It's obvious you're into her, even _I_ could see that." Dean added, "And I've been off the market for a while." Sam didn't respond to Dean's proposal.

I grinned smugly at that, looking back down to the papers, flipping through them until something caught my eye, "Hey, I think I've got somethin'." I announced.

Dean twisted around, peering down at the papers, as Sam crossed over from the bar with a beer in his hand, "Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910." Dean read aloud and shrugged.

"Now, compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal," Sam said, handing Dean their father's journal. He flipped it open, leafing through it until he came to the page with notes about the mysterious murders.

"First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms." He said, looking up to Sam.

"Peter Simms, murdered, 1912." Sam said. I set the papers down and looked over Dean's shoulder, seeing the pattern. I balanced myself on my knees, resting my right hand on his thigh when I leaned over to point out more of the occurrences.

"Same thing in 1945 and in 1970." I murmured. Sam picked up the provenances.

"Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it." Sam stated, "So what do you two think, it's haunted? Cursed?"

"Either way," Dean said, getting up after I sat back, "It's toast." He sheathed a knife in one swift, confident movement.

* * *

_**Auction House—Night**_

We stood outside the gates of the Blake Auction House, looking up at how high they were. I had I feeling I was going to be sitting out on this one, and seeing the look in both Sam and Dean's eyes, my hunch was dead on the money.

I waved them on with an irritated look until Dean kissed me quickly, making me smile at him when he leaped and easily scaled the high metal gate and sprinted across the lot, hearing him hiss out, "Come on!" to Sam.

Sam easily did the same, throwing me an apologetic look over his shoulder as the two boys disappeared. In all actuality, I would've slowed them down, and probably would've gotten them caught. By the time I was able to make my fifth lap in pacing, they were running out of the Auction House, and scaled the gates once again.

I followed them back to the Impala where Dean handed me the rolled up canvas. In the backseat, I unrolled it, staring down at the weird family portrait of the Merchant family. For some odd reason, I didn't feel like anything was out of the norm on this. Except for the little girl. Her eyes were fixated directly on me, which was creepy.

I ran my fingers gently across the painting, wincing at a sudden prick. I jerked back, staring down at my fingers, seeing blood seep from my index finger. I frowned, looking up from my fingers, back to the painting where I noticed the straight razor that had been on the table was missing…or, was there even a straight-razor to begin with? With furrowed brows, I looked back up to the man, Isaiah, seeing that he wasn't staring at the little girl.

Quickly, I rolled it back up and tossed it away from me, blinking rapidly. This thing was freaky! Like, it had me fucked up. I didn't know what it was about this painting, but it needed to go, ASAP.

* * *

_**Dirt Road**_

The painting laid in the dirt with Sam holding the flashlight on it. I stood beside him, running my thumb over my bleeding finger, still bewildered about how I had managed to cut it on canvas. Dean was kneeled beside it, readying the matches.

"Ugly ass thing." He said, "If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor." Dropping the matches onto the canvas. It ignited very quickly as the three of us watched it burn away.

* * *

_**Motel Room—Day**_

The following morning, Dean rushed around the motel room like a chicken with his head cut off, "We got a problem—" he said, tearing clothes out our bags, then looked to Sam and I, "I can't find my wallet."

Sam arched his brow at him, as he packed his duffel, "How is that my problem?"

"'Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night." He said, alarmed, pacing around like a caged animal. He picked up his jacket, shrugging it on as Sam paused, looking at him flabbergasted. I looked up at Dean, my mouth hanging open in shock.

"You're shittin' me," I stated. He threw his hands up and I ran a hand down my face, "You gotta be kiddin', _right?_"

"No!" Dean said, turning back to look at me with a worried expression, "It's got my prints, my ID…" he pulled a face, "Well, my fake ID anyway." He shook his head, "We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on."

* * *

_**Blake Auction House—Day**_

The three of us had been on a wild goose chase throughout the entire auction house searching for the damn wallet. I had gone off to look through a series of cabinets while Sam and Dean were in a different aisle, looking amongst the floor and in antique desks.

"How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" I heard Sam's voice hiss out from another aisle over. I paused, my hand on a cabinet door, as I turned to see Sam's hands fly up in the air before he continued to look. When I finished with the aisle I was in, I joined the boys in their aisle, pausing to see Sarah approaching us with a smile.

"Hey, guys!" she said.

Sam turned to her looking a bit freaked out and happy at the same time, "Sarah! Hey."

"What are you doing here?" She asked, glancing at us.

"Ahh, we…we are leaving down and, you know," he shrugged, "We came to say goodbye."

I stood beside Dean with an arched brow, though, upon catching the twinkle in his eye, he walked over to Sam, placing a hand on his shoulder, "What are you talking about, Sam? We're sticking around for at least another day or two." He said with a grin. Sam looked over to Dean and I with a confused look. Sarah grinned.

Dean reached into his pocket, pulling out his found wallet, and looked meaningfully at Sam, "Oh, Sam. By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that twenty dollars I owe you," He threw Sarah a grin, "I always forget, you know. Getting as bad as the wife." I nodded, playing along with his charade to getting Sam to loosen up. If I had thought it up, I would've been a bit blatant about it.

Sam stared at Dean, disbelief running rampant on his face. Knowing how he was, he was _livid_. I bit my lip to stave off a laugh. Dean handed him the bill, "There ya go." Sam took it, throwing him a death glare. I snickered at that. "Well, Abs and I will leave you two crazy kids alone," he said with a smile, "We gotta go do something…somewhere."

Dean walked over, slipping his arm around mine and escorted me out of the auction house.

It wasn't five minutes after we left, Sam came out looking flustered about something. Dean furrowed his brows at him, "What the hell, man? I didn't just shell out twenty bucks for you to come running back."

I swatted Dean's arm, "What's wrong?"

Sam stopped in front of us, "Guys, it's still there." We blinked, "The painting."

"What painting?" Dean asked, "The fugly one we burned last night?" Sam nodded in response, earning a scoff, "Dude, you're seeing things, that painting is a pile of ashes on a dirt road."

"Well, it was in the frame—just like before," He let a frustrated sigh out, "I don't understand, guys, we burned the damn thing."

"Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious." Came Dean's sarcastic reply. Sam shot him a glare.

"We just need to figure out another way to get rid of it," I said, apparently stopping Sam from replying back with a snarky comment. I looked at the both of them, "Any ideas?"

There was silence for a moment, "Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings, it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em." Sam informed us, looking mostly at me to avoid starting a pissing match with Dean.

"Yeah, so we need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting." Dean summarized, "What were their names again?"

"Uhm...Isaiah Merchant, I think." I replied after racking my brain for a moment.

* * *

_**Second Hand Book Shop—Day**_

"You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?" The proprietor asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, that's right." I said as Dean walked around, coming up to an old book nearby. He smiled to himself, flipping through the pages to look at the pictures of different variations of guns. He was like any man, looking through the book, pausing briefly on a Colt Walker. His eyes flickered up from the book to me, smiling. I felt his gaze, causing me to look up and over at him briefly before I looked back down with a little laugh, tucking my hair behind my ear. I felt a kick, making me smile down at my stomach when the proprietor came back with a huge book that contained a bunch of newspaper clippings.

"I dug up every scrap of local history I could find." He told Sam, "So, are you guys' crime buffs?"

"Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?" Dean asked, looking over at him.

"Well..." He trailed off, holding up an article. The lead story was on the _Titanic_, however, he then pointed to a side article saying, _Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself._ I raised my brows at it with a soft hum.

"Yeah, that sounds about right." He said, nodding at him.

"The whole family was killed?" Sam asked, skimming through the article.

"It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself." The proprietor explained, "Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor." I looked up at him from the article, running the pad of my thumb across my finger, feeling the dull ache of the cut. I thought I remembered the straight-razor on the table in the portrait…but I couldn't remember exactly if I was thinking it up or not. I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Why'd he do it?" I asked.

"Let's look. Ahh...'People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter..." He skimmed the article looking for more bits of noteworthy information, "Yeah yeah yeah..."There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave." Which of course you know in that day and age, um ...so instead, old man Isaiah...well he gave them all a shave." He said, drawing his hand across his throat in a motion of slitting his neck. Dean joined in with a chuckle, earning a dirty look from Sam. I pursed my lips, as Dean coughed to stop himself.

"Does it say what happened to the bodies?" He asked instead.

The proprietor looked up from the article, "Just that they were all cremated."

"Anything else?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, actually, I found a picture of the family." He said, "It's right here…somewhere." He flipped through a book, opening it to a marked pages, "Right—here it is."

We leaned in, taking a look at the photograph, and come to find out, it was of that painting back at the auction house.

"Hey, could we get a copy of this please?" Sam asked.

"Sure." He said with a smile.

* * *

_**Motel Room**_

"I'm telling you guys, I'm sure of it. The painting at the auction house, Dad is looking down." Sam said, turning the copy of the painting towards us, "Painting here, Dad's looking out. The painting has changed."

"Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?"

I nodded, looking up from the image, "Yeah. It makes sense." They looked to me, "Back when you swiped the canvas, I was lookin' at it, you know, to be nosey. 's what I do." Dean pulled a face of amusement, glancing up to Sam, who was mutually amused. "Isaiah was looking down at the girl—" I pointed to the pretty little blonde haired girl, "I touched it, around here," tapping to the table, and I blinked upon seeing the straight-razor. I gaped at it. "I _knew_ it! I'm not goin' crazy."

"What?" Dean asked, furrowing his brows, leaning to look at the photograph better.

"I got cut," I said, holding up the nasty little cut on my finger, "I thought I was seein' things when it first happened, but then, Isaiah was lookin' up at me." I shook my head, running my hand through my hair, "But, if their bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?"

"Well, if Isaiah's position changed, and cut your finger, then maybe some other things in the painting changed as well." Dean suggested, looking from Sam to me, "You know, it could give us some clues."

"What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?" Sam asked.

Dean gave him a blank look, "I don't…know." He admitted, shifting in his chair, "I'm still waiting for the movie on that one." Sam turned to me with a surprised expression as Dean rose up and moved across the room to the bed, throwing himself onto his back and crossed his arms, "Which, is a good thing cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend."

"Dude, enough already." Sam said in minor annoyance, throwing a glance to me. I threw my hands up, joining Dean on the bed. After Fitchburg, I told them both I had nothing to do with their arguing.

"What?" Dean asked, innocently.

"What? Ever since we got here, you two have been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, alright?" He snapped at us in frustration.

"Well, you like her, don't you?" I asked. I could've kicked myself for stepping in on this conversation. Sam rolled his eyes, throwing his arms up in frustration.

Dean shrugged, "Alright, you like her, she likes you. You're both consenting adults…"

"What's the point, Dean?" Sam asked, voice rising, "We'll just leave. We always leave."

"Well, we're not talking about marriage, Sammy—" I began in a soft voice.

"I don't get it, why do you two care if I hook up?" He snapped at us. I flinched, furrowing my brows at him. Just like that, I was a breath away from climbing off that bed and shoving my foot up his ass, all he had to do was say _one_ more thing, and that would've sealed the deal to hospitalization caused by a pregnant woman.

"Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time," Dean said rather calmly, "You don't see me in a bad mood on a daily basis. Or Abigail." Feeling like this would've been a good time to leave, I patted him on the thigh.

"I'm gonna step outside," I said, "All this testosterone is makin' me want to punch the wall." Dean chuckled, leaning over to kiss me gently on the lips before I pulled away and stood up, pointing to the both of them, "Ya'll don't get into some knockdown drag out, cause I ain't able to stop you two or join in."

Sam rolled his eyes at me, huffing an amused breath, "We won't."

I arched my brow, mainly staring at Dean. He stared at me with an innocent look, "What?"

I shook my head at him, "Nothin', I just know how you are." I said, flippantly, taking his keys off the nightstand, "Left my iPod out there anyways." I said aloud, walking outside, and closed the door behind me.

* * *

_**Dean's Point of View**_

_**Motel Room**_

Sam and I stared after Abs when she closed the door behind her, before hearing him huff out a breath, looking to another part of the room. Like there was anything different about it. I sat up, pulling a leg under me.

"You know, seriously Sam, this isn't about just hooking up, okay?" I said, watching how he was acting closely, "I mean, I-I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you, just like Abigail is good for me." Sam let out another sigh, scratching his head. I licked my lips, glancing out to the door, half wishing that Abs would walk back in and talk to Sam about this, "And…I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right?" I asked, seeing him glance to me, "Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that…but, I've come close more times than I want to admit."

Dread bubbled up from the thought of seeing her lifeless, and I clenched my jaw, "And I know if it was Abigail or the baby, I'd be pretty messed up, too." I swallowed hard at that, "But…but I think—I _know_ she would want me to be happy, just the same with her if it were reversed." I twisted the ring around my finger from being uncomfortable, "I would also think that Jess would want you to be happy." Sam stared at me with tears in his eyes, I had his attention, "God forbid, have fun once in a while." I said, "Wouldn't she?" I asked.

"Yeah, I know she would." He admitted, giving me a half-smile, then sighed heavily, "Yeah, you're right." I raised my brows at that, "Part of this _is_ about Jessica, but not the main part."

"What's it about?" I asked, already knowing I was at a dead end with him. I threw up a hand in defeat, "Yeah, alright." I laid back, crossing my arms across my chest, "Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…" I trailed off, looking over to the door when Abigail stepped back in, iPod in tow. I rolled my eyes at her in amusement. She loved that damn thing more than life itself sometimes.

Sam pulled out his phone, clearing his throat. I shook my head at him, closing my eyes, "Sarah, hey, it's Sam." I heard him say awkwardly, "Hey, hi." He said again and paused, listening to Sarah on the other line, "Good. Good, yeah. Umm, what about you?" He asked. I felt the right side of the bed sink in from Abigail joining me on the bed. I opened an eye, looking up at her with a smile as I reached out with my hand, brushing my fingers along her arm when she wedged herself under me. An overwhelming sense of gratefulness consumed me as I closed my eyes, enjoying the close contact between us. I savored it like a fine whiskey, knowing under the cover of night, my demons came out to torment me.

"Yeah good, good. Really good." I hear Sam repeat. He was about as awkward as they could get.

"Smooth…" I whispered in Abigail's ear, hearing Abigail snicker in amusement before nudging me in the ribs playfully.

"You weren't sharpest tool in the shed with your words either, Romeo." Abigail whispered back in my ear, causing me to shiver. I stared at her fully with a look that told her I didn't know what she was talking about, knowing good and well she was telling the truth. The girl made me all kinds of crazy. With any other female, the possibilities were endless. With Abigail…it was that much harder to express things without it coming out wrong or blowing up in my face.

"So, ah, so listen," Sam said, "Abigail, my brother and I, were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again…" I wrapped an arm around Abs, pulling her closer to me. Her arm wound around my chest, resting her head against mine, and her stomach in my side where I could feel Cody's subtle kicks and jerks. This couldn't have been more perfect. Closing my eyes with another shake of my head at Sam's lack of eloquence, I started to settle back in with Abigail at my side.

"_What_?!" I heard Sam snap. Abigail and I jerked at the suddenness of his voice, alerting on him when he stood up with a deeply set frown, "Who'd you sell it to?" Abigail pulled away from me as we rose to our feet, listening closely, "Sarah, I need an address right now." He said to her urgently.

I looked over to Abs with an apprehensive look, _This couldn't be good._

* * *

_**Abigail's Point of View**_

_**Evelyn's House—Night**_

So things didn't quite go as planned. According from Sam, the painting of the Merchant family had been sold to a lady named Evelyn. Dean had driven like a madman to get to her mansion or house or whatever you wanted to call it, getting there from our motel room in record time.

Pulling up, the three of us jumped out of the car, seeing Sarah approaching us from her car.

"Sam, what's happening?" Sarah asked, worried.

"I told you, you shouldn't have come." Sam said, running past her and onto the steps of the house where Dean joined him, banging on the door.

"Hello, anyone home?" He called out. There was no answer. Sarah and I came up behind them, Sarah grasping my hand tightly.

"You said Evelyn might be in danger," She said, "What sort of danger?"

Dean looked to Sam with a shake of his head, ignoring Sarah's question. "I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it." He said, reaching for the picks I had in my coat. With my freehand, I reached into my coat, pulling them out of my pocket and handed it to him. He gave me a short nod of thanks, kneeling down in front of the door as Sam started to bang on the windows, which are covered with metal security bars.

Sarah's hand dropped from mine, taking a step back, "What are you guys, burglars?"

I looked at her with a small smile, "I wish it was that simple." I nodded over to her car, "Look, you really should wait in the car, it's for your own good."

Dean managed to get the door opened, throwing me a scrutinizing look, "Same for you, Tinkerbelle." I pressed my lips in a thin line at that, watching him enter with Sam quickly behind him.

"The hell I will." She said, "Evelyn's a friend." Sarah rushed in after them, leaving me with little to no options. I bit my lip, looking around me for a second, then stepped inside, instantly becoming uneasy. I didn't like this at all. If felt like a semi was sitting on my chest.

"Evelyn?" Sarah called out, looking for her with worry written across her face.

"Evelyn!" Dean yelled out. Their voices echoed throughout the enormous house.

Entering the lounge between Sam and Dean, we spotted Evelyn sitting half-way turned away from us. I glanced up to the painting, seeing that Isaiah was staring down at his daughter. I frowned, growing increasingly uneasy by the second.

"Evelyn?" Sarah said, "It's Sarah Blake…are you alright?" She asked, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Sarah, don't!" Sam said urgently to her, "Sarah!"

It was too late, the gentle motion of Sarah touching Evelyn's shoulder caused gravity to take place, tipping her head back and exposed that her throat had been slashed.

The color in Sarah's face drained as she screamed out in horror, "Oh my god. Oh my god!" Sam placed an arm around her and shepherds her out of the room, leaving Dean and I behind to look at the aftermath. I looked back up to the portrait to see that it had changed once again to Isaiah looking ahead. I frowned, feeling Dean do the same, and usher me out of the house.

* * *

_**Motel Room**_

Dean sat at the bar with the laptop doing some additional research about the Merchant family. Sam paced in the room like a caged animal, while I sipped on my third cup of coffee and went through the provenances for the millionth time in case I had missed something. My eyes were beginning to cross from how long I've looked.

Propping the pillows behind me, I leaned back in hopes of my back stretching out, only to wince from Cody being balled up under my ribs. Dean saw this and raised his brows, his gaze held firmly on me with concern when I slowly got up from the bed holding my hand against my back. Finally being able to straighten up, I arched my back in a much needed stretch, walking over to Dean where I slipped my arms around him in an embrace, and gently kissed him on the cheek, earning a smile from him.

We shared a look after hearing a knock on the door, letting Sam open it, and Sarah stormed in, looking shocked and angry.

"Hey. You alright?" Sam asked, closing the door behind her.

Sarah turned to him, "No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's, alone, and found her like that." I let out a soft sigh of relief, catching Dean's relieved smirk.

"Thank you." Sam said, relieved.

"Don't thank me, I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on." She said, angrily, "Who's killing these people?" Sam looked to Dean and I. We raised our brows at him, this was his rodeo, not ours.

"What." Sam corrected.

Sarah blinked, "What?"

"It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people." Sam told her, earning a look from Sarah like he'd gone insane. He sighed, "Sarah, you saw that painting move."

"No…no, I was…I was seeing things." She bit out in agitation, "It's impossible."

"Yeah well, welcome to our world." Dean said sarcastically, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Sarah, I know this sounds crazy...but we think that that painting is haunted." Sam said, obviously adding to the heaping amount of madness.

Sarah was in tears, snickering at him, "You're joking." She looked to each of us, searching for some form of tom-foolery. In the looks we held, there was none. "You're not joking." She breathed out, "God, the guys I go out with." She said resignedly.

"Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telesca's, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth." Sam said to her truthfully.

Sarah took a deep breath, "Then I guess you'd better show me." She said, "I'm coming with you." I raised my brows again at her. I saw something in her that Sam needed, and for that, I liked her.

"What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and...and I don't want you to get hurt." Sam said shaking his head.

"Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well me and my Dad sold that painting that mighta got these people killed. Look I'm not saying I'm not scared because I am scared as hell but...I'm not going to run and hide either." She said, solemn in her declaration. Sarah strode to the door, turning to look at us expectantly, "So are we going or what?" After that, she walked out. Dean looked up at me with an arched brow, in which I shrugged in return. Judging from his smug expression, it was nothing short of what I would do.

We sat there in silence, Sam stunned by Sarah, "Sammy?" I said, seeing him turn to look at us.

Dean pointed to the door, "Marry that girl." Dean told him with a chuckle.

* * *

_**Evelyn's House—Day**_

It was daytime, and we found ourselves back at Evelyn's house. I was squatted down picking the lock as Sarah looked on with curiosity.

"Ahhh… isn't this a crime scene?" Sarah asked.

I glanced up at her with a grin, "If I had a dollar every time we heard that…." I said, hearing Sam let out a chuckle, "You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?" I added, receiving a look of amusement from Dean. Apparently, I had taken the words right out of his mouth. With a pleasing click, I grinned, hefting myself from a crouched position to standing, and felt my knees pop. Oh the joys of pregnancy.

I stepped to the side to let the circulation return to the rest of my legs, allowing Dean, Sarah, and Sam ahead of me. When I had met them in the lounge, Sam had already taken the portrait off the wall, set it on the blood-stained chair, and was leaning in for a closer look, shaking his head at something Sarah had said.

I stood beside Dean, who was comparing the portrait to the picture. "Check it out." He said suddenly, "The razor, it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one."

"What are you guys looking for?" Sarah asked, and Sam glanced at her.

"Well if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting then it's doing so for a reason." Dean explained, and Sarah nodded, understanding.

Staring at the portrait, I furrowed my brows, narrowing my eyes to look at something, "Hey, look at this." I murmured, pointing to the picture in the painting, "Looks, like a crypt, or a mausoleum or somethin'."

Dean straightened back up, looking around the room, and quickly grabbed a thick, glass, ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass, "Merchant." He read aloud before setting down the ashtray.

I sighed resignedly knowing where we were headed to.

* * *

_**Graveyard**_

A couple of hours crawled by and we had jack squat. I wished we had squat, cause we could've pulled something from that. The three of us were well beyond agitated by the time we had come to our third graveyard.

"This is the third boneyard we've checked. I think this ghost is jerking us around." Dean told us with a breath of frustration. I walked beside him in an equally pissy mood, offering him a gentle squeeze of my hand in his in reassurance. His eyes shifted over to me clouded with frustration, despite the lop-side smile he gave me in return.

"So… this is what you guys do for a living?" Sarah questioned.

"Not exactly," I said, gingerly stepping over a few graves with a grimace, "We don't get paid."

"Well, Mazel tov." She said, earning a soft laugh from me as Dean pulled me to a stop, motioning ahead of us to an old, weathered structure.

I looked at him when he pointed ahead of us, "Over there." He said, indicating the mausoleum. It definitely looked familiar from the painting within the painting, earning an anxious look from all of us. Letting go of my hand, Dean went ahead of us to break the locks with a pair of pliers he had brought with him. Pushing open the doors, the cobwebs were _everywhere_, making it very clear that it had gone untouched for a long time.

Stepping inside, I had to cover my nose to the strong musty odor that had been sealed within. I shied away a few times, grumbling out curses left and right whenever I had come in contact with loose cobwebs, swatting them out of my face and off my arms. Dean took me by the shoulders, halting me with an amused chuckle, pulling stray cobwebs out of my hair. I pressed my lips in a thin line, slightly pooching my bottom lip out at how easily distressed I got with webs of any kind. From the twinkle in Dean's eyes, he didn't mind picking out a couple decades old spider web from my hair, finishing his job with a gentle kiss on my forehead.

Sarah was taking it better than what I was, and for that, I liked her even more. She was as level-headed as they come. There was a bunch of name plates along the wall of the mausoleum, each with a name and number of who was occupying it, and even a memento of the past-individual's life. Sarah looked into one of the cases seeing a little blonde haired doll.

"Okay, that right there—" she said pointing to the doll in the glass case, "is the creepiest things I've ever seen."

"It was a... sort of tradition at the time." I explained, bowing slightly to peer inside with her, "Whenever a child died sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case, put it next to the headstone or crypt."

"Notice anything strange here?" Dean asked, ignoring Sarah and mine's conversation.

Sarah looked over at him, "Ah ... where do I start?" She asked. I had seen what he meant, letting Sam beat me to the punch.

"Yeah," He said, "There are only four."

"Mom and the three kids." I stated, skimming each case, "Meanin' daddy dearest isn't here."

Sam looked to us, "So, where is he?"

* * *

_**Later That Night—Graveyard**_

"You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this." Sarah commented shakily to Dean and Sam as they dug deeper into the unmarked grave of Isaiah Merchant, crossing her freehand under her arm that held a flashlight. I looked over at her with a smile, shining my light on the boys.

"This ain't our first rodeo." I replied simply, "I'm usually the one diggin' while your boyfriend mans the light."

Sam threw his head up at me with a sarcastic laugh, "Oh _ha, ha_. Funny, Abigail." He said in a playful manner. Dean chuckled in between shoveling dirt out.

"Says the one terrified of spiders and graveyards." Dean shot back, looking up at me with an infuriating grin. I arched my brow at him, pursing my lips.

"At least I wasn't singing soprano on an airplane." I countered, seeing him stiffen at my comment. His mouth pursed and narrowed his eyes at me while Sam crawled out of the grave, laughing and stood beside Sarah, who had covered her mouth to prevent herself from laughing out loud.

"Of course I sounded soprano," Dean replied stiffly, "When an airplane is freefalling out of the sky in a downward spiral, there's not much a man can do." He replied stiffly, coming in contact with something hard. He tapped the head of his shovel against it a couple of times, "Think I've got something."

Dean handed me the shovel after cracking open the coffin lid, revealing the body of Isaiah. He climbed out of the grave before pouring gasoline while Sam poured salt.

Tucking the flashlight under my arm, I took out a set of matches, striking two of them in the pack. I looked at the flames for a moment, then to the body, "You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah." I uttered softly, and tossed them into the salt and gasoline mix. Isaiah's body ignited in a quick ball of flames, illuminating the dark and silent cemetery.

Dean snorted, "Good riddance."

Sam looked over at Sarah with a wry smirk, "Still think I'm a catch?" He asked her as she laughed heartily. Dean and I exchanged a smug glance knowing that we were making progress with those two.

* * *

_**Evelyn's House—Night**_

The Impala pulled up at Evelyn's place shortly after Dean and I had the pleasure of filling the grave back in, with Dean's ever so watchful eye on how big of a shovel full I had. For some odd reason, I felt livelier after doing something strenuous. Sitting up front with Dean, letting the two lovebirds sit together in the back—with withering looks from Sam included—he opened the back passenger door.

"Keep the motor running," He told Dean, closing the door behind him.

"I thought the painting was harmless now?" Sarah asked from beside him.

Sam looked to her, "Better safe than sorry."

She opened the door on her side, "I'm gonna go with you."

He gave her an uncertain look that had been registered with worry, "You sure?" he asked.

Sarah nodded, "Yeah." She shut the door behind her.

Sam made the move to get out her.

"Hey!" Dean called out to him. Sam leaned back in with a curious look, "Abs and I will stay here, you go make your move." He told him with a grin. Sam scoffed at him and rolled his eyes, getting out of the car. Dean leaned out the window, "Sam. I'm serious!" he called out after him.

Watching Sarah and Sam move up the steps, Dean turned on the radio as a love ballad began blaring across the courtyard. Sam visibly grimaced, turning back towards us with a withering look, throwing his hands up. Dean grinned at Sam, gesturing 'what?' with an innocent look on his face. I laughed at his attempt of being matchmaker, leaning over and cut it off. Sam's eyes fell on me with a grateful look before they entered the house. Dean sighed, leaning back in his seat, looking over at me, "You're no fun."

"You're being creepy." I retorted, beginning to feel really uncomfortable when Sam had disappeared from sight. Dean rolled his eyes.

"It's called being persistent." He replied, "That's what I did with you."

I snorted, "_Ha! _You're so full of shit, Dean, you need your own septic tank." Dean started laughing, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, and pulling me closer to him. I smiled up at him when he placed his hand on my stomach to feel Cody do something, and rested my head on his shoulder. Despite that it had been a couple of minutes, the uneasy feeling I had gotten worse and my leg started bobbing, glancing to the house every moment or so.

"Don't tell me you have a bad feeling," Dean said, getting cautious.

I looked back at up him with an worried look, when the both of us heard the front door slamming shut. Our heads snapped to the house, ice running through our veins.

"Sammy!" I yelled out, pulling away from Dean, and got out of the car. Dean had gotten out and was on the porch in record time, shoving on the door with his shoulder. I beat on the door frantically.

"Abigail! Dean!" We heard Sam call out, "Hey! Is that you?"

"Sammy, you alright?" Dean demanded with urgency in his voice, "Sam!" Instead of a response, his cellphone rang, "Tell me you slammed the front door." He said to Sam upon answering his phone, giving me a worried look. Dean's brows pulled together, "Girl? What girl?" he asked.

I furrowed my brows at that, "From the painting?" I questioned. His eyes stayed on me, face draining of color, "Wasn't the dad looking down at her?" I pulled out my lock picking kit, kneeling in front of the door again.

"Maybe he was trying to warn us," Dean said, "Would explain Abs getting cut." He paused, eyes rolling at nothing in particular, "Well Abigail's trying to pick the lock, the door won't budge." Silence, "Okay genius, let me and my girlfriend who's twenty-four weeks pregnant, by the way, grab our battering arm and bust it down." He said sarcastically, "Well, you're just gonna have to hold it off until Abs and I figure something out."

"Get some salt and iron." I said loud enough for Sam to hear. Dean nodded in response, looking around.

"Here, talk to Sam and relay everything. You stay and I'll find a way in." Dean told me, handing me the cell phone. I nodded, not even touching the entering a house that had a spirit on the loose with a straight-razor with a ten foot pole. This was one of those times I was going to listen to him.

"_Look in the chair. Sometimes the seats._" Sam's voice said to Sarah quickly. Dean had left the porch, beginning to walk along the house, searching for entrances. I heard another loud bang from the phone, that was muffled outside.

"Sammy, what the hell just happened?" I asked, furrowing my brows. I heard nothing but the drawn out scuffling of something, and a little girl's laughter. Chills ran up and down my spine, until I heard Sarah ask if something was iron.

"_Yeah._" He said.

"Sammy, you okay?" I asked again, growing frantic by the second.

"_Yeah, for now._" He breathed out, "_Where's Dean?_"

"Lookin' for a way in," I replied, "How are we gonna waste her?"

"_I don't know, she was cremated._" Sam replied, "_There's nothing left to burn._"

I ran a trembling hand through my hair, "Then how's she still around?"

"There must be something else." He answered, sounding a little distracted. Dean had made his way back to the porch, shaking his head no. I took the phone away from my ear, pressing the speakerphone button so that we could both talk to him, "_Well, that's fascinating, Sarah, but is it important right now?_" He said sarcastically. I furrowed my brows at Dean.

"What?" Dean asked.

"_Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains, same as bones_." Sam said urgently.

Then it dawned on us. Dean and I gaped, "The Mausoleum!"

* * *

_**Graveyard—Night**_

Dean plowed through the locked gates of the cemetery with the Impala. I had stayed back in the car, allowing Dean to run inside the mausoleum. A few seconds later, Dean came running out, then looked down at his gun with a grimace, "Come on, Dean!" he said, frustrated, rushing back in.

I leaned forward, hearing a gunshot, then silence. I bobbed my leg against the running board of the Impala, waiting until Dean exited with a relieved look, nodding his head to me. I flopped back, running my hands across my face a few good times, laughing like a maniac. They were safe!

* * *

_**Auction House—Day**_

Dean and I approached Sam and Sarah, watching the painting of the Merchant family being crated up, "This was archived in the county records." I said, holding up some papers.

"The Merchant's adopted daughter Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds." Dean added, keeping an arm wrapped around me.

Sarah looked to us in disbelief, "She killed them?"

"Yeah. Who'd suspect her?" I said, "Sweet little girl…so then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since."

"So, where's this one go?" A worker asked Sarah.

She didn't give a second glance, "Take it out back and burn it." Everyone around us, stopped, looking at her like she was crazy, "I'm serious guys. Thanks." She turned back to us, "So, why'd the girl do it?"

"Killing others? Killing herself? Some people are just born tortured. So when they die, their spirits are just as dark." Sam explained.

"Maybe." Dean said, thinking, "I don't really care. It's over, we move on."

Sarah glanced at us, sadly, holding her gaze on Sam, "Ahh... I guess this means you're leaving."

Dean was looking from Sam to Sarah until Sam's expectant gaze made him roll his eyes, "We'll go wait in the car." He said, nodding to Sarah.

I smiled, giving her a quick hug, "See you, Sarah."

She smiled back at me, "See you, Abigail. Good luck on the baby."

I laughed, "I'm gonna need it, it's a Winchester." Dean and Sam grinned smugly at me, as I laced my arm through Dean's and walked outside to the Impala.

"I'm the one that burned the doll, destroyed the spirit, but don't thank me or anything." He grumbled on the way out. I laughed softly, pausing for a moment to stand on my tip toes to kiss him on the lips.

"Better?" I asked, pulling away.

He pursed his lips in a pout, "Maybe."

I smiled, running my hands up and down his chest, taking hold of the lapels on his jacket, "Next motel we get our own room, and I can thank you properly. Deal, papa-bear?" I asked, seeing his brows raise at my proposal.

"Oh, you know it," Dean replied eagerly, "Then maybe I could show you a few moves."

I arched my brow, "Sounds like a plan." We looked over to see Sarah and Sam part ways. I frowned, crossing my arms at him, "Well, we're not matchmakers."

Dean scratched his head, "Huh. I was sure he was into her." He shook his head at Sam, "Better luck next time." We turned to get in the car, turning back around when we heard a knock. The both of us grinned upon seeing Sam and Sarah kissing.

I gasped out in delight, grabbing Dean's hand, and squeezed.

"That's my boy." He said, looking down at me with a grin. Kissing me gently, we pulled away and got in the car, grinning like idiots. _Mission: A Kissing Sammy is a Happy Sammy _had been accomplished with great results, "We should do this more." He added. I laughed, as we both waited for Sam to meet us in the car.

* * *

**Chapter 20 is out! Three more to go! Ugh! It's so unbelievable that I have gotten this far in a story! I couldn't have gotten here if it weren't for ya'll!**

**I want to have a shout out to _Ladysunshine6_, and dedicate this chapter to her because it's her birthday today! So, if ya'll want, just drop by and tell her Happy Birthday! And as promised m'dear, I got it out just in time! (:**

* * *

**********I want to thank you guys-the readers. I seriously enjoy reading ya'll's reviews, they make me smile and therefore, makes my heart smile. I couldn't ask for any better people! c:**********

**********************************************wideawakepastmidnight\- I teared up at that! I can't thank you enough for saying that! Your review really made my day!**********************************************

**************************************************************Ladysunshine6\- Thank you lovely! So glad you liked it, and I know! We're almost there! Again, Happy Birthday! c:**************************************************************

**********************************************************************angelicedg\- You're most certainly welcome! And thank you! I'm so excited to get to the finale! It'll be...heart-wrenching, but in a good way...if there is one. haha.**********************************************************************

**********************************************************************RebornRose1992\- Thank you!**********************************************************************

**********************************************************************giddyfan\- Thank you! And here you are m'dear! Hope you enjoy it! (:**********************************************************************

********************************************************************************************************************************************************SassyGrl23\- Thank you! He knows he done wrong, but she's had her fair share of bringing up his past, too.********************************************************************************************************************************************************

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ebonywarrior85********\- Oh my gosh! Happy belated birthday, then! I'm so glad that I did, I am on a roll! haha!******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

**pyrofox25\- I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I can't thank you enough for your PM, it made me tear up!**

**As for Guest reviewers (past, present, and future), I love you guys and I can't express how much I appreciate your reviews!**

**To new readers, I hope you guys are enjoying this fanfic! If ya'll want to, just drop a little review or PM telling me how I'm doing, what I could do to spruce this to your liking, or just to simply say hi! I seriously love all of you and I just wanted to let everyone know that this wouldn't be possible if it weren't you all!**

* * *

**I'd like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. All credit goes to the respected franchise.**

**I'd absolutely die if took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**ALSO. I want everyone to check out my buddy, Ladysunshine6's _first_ fanfiction story, _It Ain't Easy in the Big Easy, _and show her some love and support! She's got around seven chapters out now, and I think it would mean a lot to her as a writer if ya'll could drop by and also help get some of those creative juices flowing! It has a lot of promise! I will be posting this at the end of each chapter. She is seriously the best person ever and is so helpful!**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles! c:**


	23. Dead Man's Blood

_They say that the road_  
_Ain't no place to start a family_  
_Right down the line_  
_It's been you and me_  
_And lovin' a music man_  
_Ain't always what it's supposed to be_  
_Oh, girl, you stand by me_  
_I'm forever yours_  
_Faithfully_

* * *

_**Café—Day**_

_**July 27**__**th**__**, 2006**_

"Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska." Dean complained, folding up the newspaper he had been skimming through, and set it down with a huff of annoyance, "What've you two got?" He looked over at me expectantly, and I set down another newspaper.

"Jack. And Squat." I replied, twisting my _Mossy Oak _baseball cap backwards while I shifted in my seat so that my back was supported better, and crossed my legs in an empty chair. It felt so good to feel the sun on them, especially when it was up in the mid-eighties. It was flip-flop weather for sure, and I loved it.

Dean shook his head, "Great." He muttered, sarcastically, "All hope is ridin' with you, Sam."

Sam glanced up at us with an amused smirk, "Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota." He said, "Here—a woman in Iowa fell 10,000 feet from an airplane and survived."

"Sounds more like _That's Incredible_ than, uh, _Twilight Zone_." Dean replied with a snort. I nodded, agreeing with him. It was borderline miracle they even survived that…but then again, we've had quite a few of them which involved me in a situation that should've gone down a lot worse than what it did.

"I figured since Abs is gettin' up there in her pregnancy, going on her third trimester next week—" I heard Dean say, pulling me from my thoughts, "we could, you know, just keep heading east. Hang with Charlie for a while, then head to New York. Upstate." He added with a growing smirk.

I smiled at that, "Yeah, we could drop by and see Sarah again." I said, seeing Sam's eyes flicker on me, the tiny smile disappearing into a sad and reserved look. I frowned, reaching across the table to take his hand in mine, squeezing it comfortingly.

Dean nodded, "She's a cool chick, man. Smokin'." He said, letting out a low whistle, "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"

"Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday." He told us lightly, offering us both a forced smile, and brushed the pad of his thumb across my knuckles before letting go of my hand, "What about you guys?"

Dean threw me a confused glance, "What about us?" he asked.

Sam's shoulders lifted in a shrug, "Why haven't you two gotten married yet?" I was taking a sip of my raspberry tea and choked, spitting whatever was left in my mouth, onto the pavement. Dean smacked my back a few good times until I had cleared my airways, looking up at Sam in total shock.

"What?" Sam remained reserved, shrugging again, "I mean, it's a thought." He said, "You two have been together for what? Seven years now?" He asked, looking from me to Dean, "You guys are gonna be parents in fourteen weeks…so, why not?"

Dean leaned back in his seat with his brows raised at his brother, mouth gaping like a fish's, trying to find something to say. His eyes went to me, getting as wide as dinner plates. Sam had caught us both off guard with that question. Marriage had been that one word Dean and I never bothered to talk about unless it was directed towards Sam or Sam slung it around in an argument with Dean. It was like a curse word amongst us. Hell, it _was_ a curse.

"Uh…well, Sam…" Dean stuttered out, growing uncomfortable, "Uh…we, uh, haven't really…talked about it."

Sam knit his brows together, "What do you mean you guys haven't talked about it? As long as you two have been together?" Dean and I shook our heads 'no' in response to his question, "Not even once?"

"Never bothered to bring it up." I said coolly, "And we're not gonna bring it up."

"Now, wait—" Dean said leaning forward, resting his arms on the table, "Why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?" Sam's shoulders rose again and he glared at him, "You shrug one more time, Sam, I _swear_ I'll break them off."

Sam arched his brow, bitch-face in effect, "You guys shove girls left in right in my face, trying to hook me up. I figured since you do the same crap to me, why not give you a taste of your own medicine?" He stated, leaning back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. I had to fight down the urge to reach across the table and smack him upside the head when Dean frowned at him.

"I don't _shove_ random girls in your face," I said pointedly, "Dean does that in a totally creepy fashion." Dean arched his brow, snorting at my comment, "'sides, it's best if we don't talk about it anymore."

"Why?" Sam asked, "Nothing's gonna happen to you two."

I shook my head, "Doesn't matter, Sam. But in the meantime we got a lot of work to do, and you know that." Sam rolled his eyes at us.

Dean threw a grateful look at me, "What else you got?"

Sam pursed his lips at us, "Ahh, man in Colorado—"

He shook his head, "Skip. Next one."

Sam furrowed his brows at him, "What now?"

Dean ignored him and twirled his hand to continue, "What about Wyoming and South Dakota?" He said.

"Ignore 'im, Sam. His panties is in a bunch." I said flippantly, catching his glare, "What about the man in Colorado?"

"Local man named Daniel Elkins, was found mauled in his home." Sam finished, giving Dean a withering look in return. I furrowed my brows at the name, smacking Dean's arm in order to pull him out of his pissy mood.

"Elkins." I stated, looking over at him, twisting my ball cap so that the sun wasn't blinding me, "I know that name." Dean fell in thought, rubbing his chin and nodded.

"Yeah, same here." He replied.

Sam looked at us, confused, "Doesn't ring a bell."

"Elkins...Elkins...Elkins." Dean muttered, rubbing his temples to try and rouse a memory up. I grabbed John's journal, flipping through the pages as Sam continued to explain the proposed job.

"Sounds like the police don't know what to think." I heard him say, "At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now, they've found some signs of robbery."

I hummed distractedly, flipping through several pages and smirked, "There." I said, twisting the book around, "Check it out." Dean leaned over to take a look and nodded, tapping the entry saying "D. Elkins, 970-555-0158'.

"Daniel Elkins." He said.

Sam looked up at us, "You two think it's the same Elkins?"

"It's a Colorado area code." He said simply, then snarled his lip in a look of distaste, "Do we really gotta go to Colorado?" I arched my brow at him like a mother getting ready to scold a kid and he huffed, picking up some of the things off the table, "_Fine_, alright."

* * *

_**Elkin's Cabin—Night**_

Riding up front in the Impala with Dean, the ride to Colorado had proved to be a distracting ride since the awkward conversation earlier. Cruising down the highway at a comfortable eighty miles per hour, Dean and I were totally into our mini-concert up front, head-banging and playing air-instruments to the song _Jukebox Hero_ by Foreigner. Sam sat in the backseat, rolling his eyes at our childish antics, though the smile on his face had said another thing, and had been a rarity of genuine enjoyment.

Pretty soon, the three of us were singing loudly and off-key, even singing the guitar solos while Dean drummed his heart out on the steering wheel. By the time the song had ended, we were all in good spirits, smiling and laughing at each other. When _Bohemian Rhapsody_ started, Dean and I looked at each other with toothy grins. I started rocking my body side to side slowly, singing along with Freddie Mercury, and leaned across the front seat to run the back of my hand down Dean's face, earning a pair of laughs from him and Sam.

The song progressed as the three of us had each a part to sing/yell. It was like a soap opera musical playing in the Impala with three idiots that didn't know acting if it hit them in the face. We over exaggerated our movements and voices as the snow-capped mountains of the Rockies greeted us with a vast sea of timberline reaching out as far as the hills and mountainous terrain would allow. Night had fallen by the time we pulled in front of an empty cabin out in the woods.

Kneeling in front of the door, courtesy of Dean holding a flashlight for me, I picked the locks easily and pushed the door open slowly, getting to my feet. Dean was the first to step into the room, the beam of light illuminating part of the cabin in a small circle. Sam was second, leaving me beside the door, taking in the mess. Blood was splattered across the walls and desk with drawings of horrifying creatures taped up along the length of the home. It was typical stomping grounds of a hunter's abode.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today." Dean commented, stepping over fallen objects as the beam from the flashlight swept across papers that littered the floor haphazardly. His eyes fell on me growing fully aware of a possible flashback or whatever might come when I stepped into the house, instead, I shivered when the cool mountain air swept in.

"Huh, there's salt over here." I said, looking down at the white substance, kneeling down to inspect it, "Right beside the door."

"You mean protection against demon salt, or 'oops I spilled the popcorn' salt?" Dean asked, looking up from flipping through a journal.

"It's clearly a ring," I said, giving the darkened interior a onceover, "This guy had to be a hunter."

Dean stepped away, nodding, "Definitely." He agreed, shrugging off his jacket, and handed it to me with a look in his eyes that I didn't quite know what it was or what it meant. _Guilt? Shame?_

"That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's." Sam stated, and we turned, seeing him leafing through the same journal with a look of realization.

Dean nodded, placing his hand at the small of my back, "Yep, except that one dates back to the 60s." I frowned, looking over my shoulder and out into the night of the Colorado wilderness. For a moment, I thought I had seen a silhouette of a man, sending my instincts on high alert. Dean saw me looking outside, his eyes shifting outside as well, "What is it?" he asked in a low tone, bringing me closer to him in a protective manner.

I looked up at him, "I thought I saw somethin'," I said lightly, "Probably a deer."

Dean held his gaze outside, scanning for any signs of unwanted company, then nodded, "Yeah, you're probably right." He said, ushering me into the house, and closer to Sam, keeping his body in front of me. We moved into another room, shining our flashlight around the destruction, mine winding up on the roof, seeing the gaping hole causing me to whistle.

"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there were more than one." I said, running my eyes around the destruction once again, trying to rouse up a flashback of some sort. Sadly, it was just one of those surprise moments when I least expected it, leaving me a hot mess of disorientation.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight too." Dean commented, looking over the damage.

Sam nodded, "Yeah." Staying put, Dean had ventured a head of me and paused, crouching to get a closer look at the floor, "You got something?" Sam asked.

"I dunno. Got some scratches on the floor." He replied.

"Death throes maybe?" I suggested.

Dean shrugged, "Yeah, maybe." He said, grabbing a page from a nearby notebook, placing the page over the marks and rubbed a pencil over it to get an outline, "Or, maybe a message." He stated, peeling up the paper, and turned to us, "Look familiar?" He asked rhetorically, showing us a distinct three letter, six digit code. We all knew what that meant.

"The location and combination of a post office box." I muttered, voicing my thoughts, "It's a mail drop."

"Just the way Dad does it." Dean stated. There was a deafening silence that had fell over us, that egging feeling of someone nearby still evident.

"Then it looks like we need to make like a baby and head out," I stated, "We gotta post office to find."

* * *

_**Post Office—Night**_

We had found the right box with Sam and I standing beside Dean with mixed emotions. Watching Dean enter the combination to the lock, it clicked in a pleasing manner of his success, and opened the box, removing a letter that had been nestled in a cold, steel box for lord knows how long. Dean's eyes had been glued to the inscription on the envelope.

My breath caught in my throat upon scanning it. "J. W.?"

Sam, Dean, and I stared at the envelope, confused. Even after I uttered it, there was this pained feeling rising up in my chest that John was somewhere nearby…that we would soon be crossing paths, and finally be a family again…only, _they_ would be a family. I was the disappointment because of my choices, thinking of that, anger replaced the pain. I inhaled deeply, staving it off when we made our way back out to the Impala.

"You think this 'J.W.' means John Winchester?" Sam asked, glancing to the envelope anxiously.

"I don't know," Dean replied, hesitant, "Should we open it?" He asked, looking back at me like I had the answers. Hell, I didn't know. There was a knock at Dean's window, scaring the bejeezus out of us. We all gasped at the sudden intrusion, Dean rearing back, and automatically raising his arm, fist clenched. From the backseat, I had pulled my gun out of my bag, and gaped. The intruder had been none other than John Winchester grinning back at our shocked faces.

"Dad?" Dean asked, turning to look at his father as he got in the backseat beside me.

John's eyes fell on the gun in my hand in approval, glancing up at me. I smiled sheepishly at him, flipping the safety back on, and set it back in my bag.

Sam twisted in his seat, shock still on his face, "Dad, what are you doing here?" He asked hurriedly, "Are you alright?"

John nodded, "Yeah, I'm okay. I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could. I saw you three at his place."

"Why didn't you come in Dad?" Sam asked.

John gave his son a knowing look, "You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed... by anyone or anything." I smiled slightly. Definitely a John Winchester move. He looked to Dean, "Nice job of covering your tracks by the way."

Dean looked so proud of himself and grinned. I couldn't help but join in with Dean, "Yeah, well, we learned from the best." He said.

"Wait, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" Sam asked, _obviously_, missing the entire proud father/sons and daughter moment we all had going on.

John nodded, "Yeah. He was... he was a good man. Damn good hunter." He said tiredly. From what I saw, he looked exhausted—like he had driven an extensive amount of miles and hours nonstop, "He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting. Much like Steven did." He added, looking over to me with a sad smile. I returned it with a similar, tight-lipped smile, then avoided his gaze.

"Well, you never mentioned him to us." Sam commented.

"We had a—we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years." He said. That was understandable. He almost had a falling out with every other hunter he worked with…except for my dad. It didn't matter how bad of an argument they had. By the time they had cooled off, they acted like nothing had even happened.

John nodded to the envelope that was still in Dean's hands, "I should look at that." He said. Dean passed it back to him without protest, and he opened it, "'If you're reading this, I'm already dead'... " He read aloud. His eyes darkened the further he skimmed down the letter, "That son of a bitch."

I glanced warily to Dean, looking back to John, "What is it?" I asked, concerned.

"He had it the whole time." John said cryptically.

"Dad, what?" Sam asked.

John looked to each of us sternly, "When you searched the place, did you— did you see a gun?" He asked, "An antique—a Colt revolver—did you see it?" The three of us looked at each other and shook our heads with a frown.

"Ah, there was…there was an old case, but it was empty." Dean recollected.

John looked out into the night, "They have it."

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean asked, twisting in his seat to look at his father as he started to get out of the car.

"We gotta pick up the trail." He said.

"Wait." Sam called out, "You want us to come with you?" He asked.

John held his gaze on Sam, "If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun."

"The gun—why?" He asked. I rolled my eyes at him, _always_ with the questioning.

"Because it's important, that's why." John said. _That went far._ I mused, catching the irritated look from Sam.

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet." Sam said.

"They were what Daniel Elkins killed best: Vampires." He told us.

"Vampires?" I asked, frowning.

"I thought there was no such thing." Dean said.

"You never even mentioned them." I said, folding a leg underneath me so that I could look at John.

"I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and—_others_," his eyes swept over to me quickly, "had wiped them out…I was wrong."

"So, you mean this Elkins and my dad killed…vampires?" I asked, "I thought it was just demons."

His lips tipped up into an amused grin, "There's not a lot you know about your old man, Abby. You just know about what he _allowed_ you to know." I blinked, feeling like I suddenly didn't know anything about my own father. I felt like an alien. _What did my dad do? What did he hide from me?_

"Most vampire lore is crap." John said, changing the subject, "A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that part's true." He explained, "They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late…except you, Abigail." From the window, his eyes went to my stomach, "We have that advantage, but in your…condition, I'm not gonna risk bringing you."

That…that right there rubbed me the wrong way. I frowned, instantly not liking the fact that I was being looked down upon because of me being pregnant. I had managed this well this far into it. We had found us a motel nearby, courtesy of John. It had two queens and a couch. There was nothing to the room. Just another overnight stay.

Sam had been the first to doze off. It was around one thirty in the morning. We'd gotten more than a wall and a half covering in clippings about Vampires. We had to distinguish which was bullshit and which wasn't, when John suggested that we start first thing in the morning to figure out what our next move was. I was sitting in an uncomfortable position, my back was absolutely breaking, as I scrolled through various websites in search of more information that we might've missed, even past killings.

By the time I had looked up from the laptop, the clock had said it was a quarter after three in the morning, and looked over to see Dean passed out on the bed, opposite of Sam's. I stared at them quietly, thinking of how I have done so much for them. A small smile found its way to the surface, admiring Dean and Sam's faces while they slept.

Sam still had boyish features. He had soft dimples that shown each time he laughed or smiled; it essentially looked like a ray of sunshine had embodied him. His hair was in need of a trim, it was now covering his eyes, causing him to shake his head every now and then to see clearly, and it had now curled over the collar of his shirts. There was a lot to him that still seemed like he was young and still in need of protection… still in need of preservation for his sake.

My eyes then went to Dean. He was the polar opposite of Sam. Living the soldier's life, many burdens had been bestowed on him at a young age. There was nothing boyish about him…nothing boyish _left_ in him from his teenaged years. Even then, I always saw the hardened look of life and responsibility on him, and in my reflection, I saw the same thing. But here, as he lay asleep, there was no deep, harsh crags of stress that plagued him from the years of continuous fighting against creatures that people would read about in books. In his sleep, Dean looked peaceful, youthful, like he had never fought a day in his life.

I often laid awake at night and wondered if Mikey were still alive, would he and Sam be good friends? Would've Mikey grown out his hair like Sam had? What kind of things would Shelby have done, as well as Alyssa? Those were two different kids. I always imagined Shelby would've been a primpy cheerleader, and Alyssa would've been in band or something…well, with Alyssa, she was too young to really know what she would've turned out to be…all of them were, actually.

They had been gone for twelve years now, and it always felt like it had just happened yesterday. I shook my head, forcing myself back into reality when Dean let out a soft snore, making me smile at him. There had been piles of paper surrounding him, some had been on his chest where he had fallen asleep so abruptly. I closed the laptop, rising up out of the uncomfortable position I had been sitting in for three hours with a soft grunt.

I crossed the room, moving over to Dean and gently pulled the papers away, piling them together in a neat stack, and grabbed an extra blanket from the couch where I had been sitting at, covering him up. Looking over to Sam, he had seemingly wriggled his way underneath the covers, but then wriggled himself out of them, allowing a foot to hang out. I shook my head at him, gently tugging the covers back over him after I pushed his foot back onto the bed.

John had been watching from his seat at the desk, peering through his reading glasses like he always had done, back when he was actually around. Something about the way he was watching, had been that of what my dad would look at me after I had tucked the kids in for bed. Wordlessly, I walked over to the refrigerator, took out a _Dr. Pepper_ and a beer, and set the beer in front of him. He glanced up at me, then to the beer before accepting it gratefully. John took off his reading glasses and leaned back in the chair, taking a pull from the bottle.

"Found anythin' interestin'?" I asked softly, leaning against the wall with my bottle of pop in my hands.

"Everything is pretty standard," He replied, looking up at me, "There's a lot of things I could say about Elkins, but when it comes to Vamps, the son of a bitch knew what he was doing." I caught him smirk at a distant memory, "Taught me well...him and Steven." I nodded slowly in agreement, picking at the maroon cap to avoid his gaze, "You should go to sleep, it's probably bad for the baby."

I lifted my shoulders, avoiding to say anything out of line to him, "I'm fine." When I looked up at him, I saw that he was smiling at me a little.

"You're stubborn, like your father." He said after taking another sip of his beer. I felt Cody kick, rubbing that area quietly. It's been a long time since I heard that, "Steven would've been proud of you, Abigail."

"Yeah, except for the fact I'm pregnant." I said bitterly without thinking, then froze. Anxiously, I pushed my hair behind my ear, waiting for him to chastise me for speaking out of turn, but it never came.

"Steven and Avery would've been thrilled." John said gently.

"But you're not." I said looking up at him with a frown. John's smile faded at my words, setting down his beer, tracing the label with his thumb.

"Abigail, I worry about you kids," He said, "I wonder if you three are alright. I worry if you and Dean are doing what I've taught you to do, and keeping Sam safe…" His eyes went over to the sleeping forms of his sons, keeping his gaze on Dean's longer, "For you and Dean to bring a child into this world is possibly the worst thing you can do—a hunter's life is not the life a child deserves. It's dangerous."

"Dean says that about ten times a week," I said a little cynically, "That's all he preached about the first couple of months…"

John smiled knowingly at me, "Sam?" He asked.

I smiled a little, "He's excited…thinks we can do this."

"He's always been optimistic, like his mother…" John reminisced, "Doesn't seem like Mary's been gone twenty-three years."

I shook my head, "Doesn't feel like twelve years either…doesn't feel like it gets any easier."

"It doesn't…that's why we fight the things we fight." He said.

"I still have nightmares…" I confessed seeing a concerned look in his eyes.

"How bad are they?"

I sighed, "They've gotten worse…They go anywhere from seein' my family dead to hearin' their screams…" I grimaced hearing my voice crack under emotions, "and that's not even the icin' on the cake." John furrowed his brows with genuine concern when I laughed quietly, "Apparently I have a hit out on me and Cody from some demon."

John's eyes widened like he had seen Hell split through the ground in front of me, "What demon?" He growled out.

"Yellow-eyes…" I answered seeing his jaw clench, a spur of quiet rage bubbling underneath him.

"Do you trust me, Abigail?" He asked forcefully.

I nodded slowly, not quite understanding what he was getting at, "Yes, sir. Of course."

"Then when I say this, you listen." He said leaning forward, "Do not leave Dean's sight for anything, do you understand?" I nodded, trying to say something, but from the look he gave me, I didn't speak, "I need you to go to get some rest. I will fix this."

"Dad…what's goin' on?" I asked growing uneasy from the tone of his voice.

"Just trust me, Abby." He said, nodding over to Dean, "Go to bed." I looked over to him as well, and sighed in defeat. Like I had done when he was still with us, I slowly wrapped my arms around neck in a gentle embrace, kissing his cheek. I was surprised when he returned the gesture with a firmer hug in return.

I straightened up, I glanced over to my bag and walked over to it, knowing he was watching me closely. I pulled out a manila folder that had been folded in half, and went back over to him, "I planned on givin' this to ya when we last saw each other…but you kinda left before I could do anythin'." I said softly, holding it out to him. John took it, setting it on the desk in front of him, "It's everythin' we managed to swipe from my appointments…" I swallowed a lump in my throat, "You may think that Dean and I are a disappointment for choosin' this, but he's been the best father to Cody, and him not even born yet." I blinked away tears, "…He sings him _Hey Jude_ almost every night." John said nothing as he stared down at the folder, "He makes sure that Mary's remembered…"

I gently touched his shoulder and patted it once, after a moment of silence, "I'll see you in the mornin'." I finished, kicking off my shoes on the way to the bed and crawled in beside Dean. Rolling over, he let out groan of protest fighting against blanket I had placed on him to wrap his arm around me, and succeeded, pulling me into him. He ran his hand up my shirt, rubbing my stomach in his sleep like he always did, and nuzzled the back of my head with his face. Shortly after I had hit the pillow, I conked out, leaving John to himself.

"Sam, Dean, Abs, let's go." I heard John's voice cut through my subconscious, backing his rousing up, he gently slapped the bottom of my foot to wake me up, Dean's chest rumbled from behind in protest. "I picked up a police call." He said brusquely, shrugging on a jacket. Dean shifted beside me, and I slowly sat up, looking tiredly to Sam.

"What happened?" Sam questioned, sitting up in bed.

"A couple called 911, found a body in the street." John explained as I rose to my feet, sliding on my boots, not bothering with the strings for now. Dean rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, still lying down in the bed as Sam watched me get ready, "Cops got there—everyone was missing. It's the vampires."

Sam rose from the bed, "How do you know?"

I rolled my eyes, shrugging on my jacket in the process of getting ready. _Always questioning things,_ I thought when John didn't give him another look as he headed out of the door, "Just follow me, okay?"

Sam walked across the room with a sour look on his face, putting his jacket on when Dean finally sat up, rubbing his eyes again, chuckling, "Huh, _vampires_." He said with an amused grin and leaned over putting his boots on, "Gets funnier every time I hear it." I laughed quietly, shaking my head at his lightheartedness this morning. It wasn't every day we got to be vampire hunters…or slayers. Standing up, Dean walked over to me and took my face in his hands, giving me a light peck on the lips before the three of us walked outside and got in the Impala where John was waiting.

* * *

_**Roadside—Day**_

Dean, Sam, and I stood back beside the Impala as John spoke to a cop, flashing his badge at him quickly during the interview. Dean and I were leaned on the quarter panel with our backs to John and the cop, his arm loosely wrapped around my waist.

"What time'd you go to bed?" Dean asked with another big yawn.

I shrugged, "I think at four."

"Jeez." He muttered, "You and dad talk about anything?"

"Yeah."

"And?" Dean prompted, glancing over his shoulder to his dad for a moment.

I pulled a face, shaking my head slightly, "Nothin' important…same old stuff. Talked about my parents mostly."

Dean nodded his head a little with a hum, "He say anything about Cody?"

My shoulders lifted quickly, "Not much…went on sayin' it was the worst thing to raise a kid in a hunter's life…" Dean scoffed, the corner of his mouth twisting into a cynical smirk, "I know right? Him and his double standards…."

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him." Sam said sulkily from the other side of the Impala, oblivious to mine and Dean's conversation. We turned, looking to Sam as he was staring his father down in a sulking manner.

I shot him a reserved look, one that I usually saved and used on Dean when he and Sam were into it, but this one was specifically one for Sam when he and John were about to have it out. I shook my head wearily, "Oh don't tell me it's already starting." Dean muttered loud enough for Sam to pick up on. I laughed lightly that held little humor within it.

His head twisted to look at us with an icy expression, "What's starting?" He demanded. Dean shook his head at him, the both of us ignoring our testy little big brother when John started back towards us.

"What have you got?" Dean inquired in a low tone, glancing back to the officer that was well beyond the length to hear us.

John halted, "It was them alright. Looks like they're heading west." He confirmed with a grim appearance, "We'll have to double back to get around that detour."

"How can you be so sure?" Sam questioned once again.

"_Sam_…leave it be." I urged warningly, seeing that it was already beginning; the bickering, questioning authority…essentially being a typical, bull-headed Winchester.

"I just wanna know we're going in the right direction." He said sharply to me.

John stared at his son with confidence, "We are."

"How do you know?" He challenged.

John regarded his son for a moment, reaching inside his pocket for something and pulled it out, holding it out for us to see, "I found this."

Dean's brows furrowed as he took the object from his father's hand, "It's a...a vampire fang." He announced in disbelief, though, he sounded more surprised than anything.

John shook his head, "Not fangs—teeth." He corrected, "The second set descends when they attack." His eyes went back to Sam's unwavering gaze, "Any more questions?" he asked haughtily as Sam looked away sullenly and remained silent, "Alright, let's get out of here, we're losing daylight."

As John passed the Impala to his truck, he gave it scornful glance, "Hey, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust?" He called back to us when I opened the door to the backseat, "I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it."

Dean's face fell, masking how much his father's comment had stung, and I got in unable to look at how wounded he looked. Things were beginning to spin out of control way too fast. Sam was driving, Dean had sat in the back with me.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleedin' them for days or weeks." I read aloud, curled up under Dean's arm, trying to get his mind elsewhere.

It worked. "I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple." He muttered, connecting the dots easily.

"That's probably what Dad's thinking. Course it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks." Sam said with an edge in his voice. He was still pissy about John's need to know basis, in which we didn't know.

I laid the journal down, eyeing Sam cryptically, "So, it is startin'."

Sam furrowed his brows, looking at me through the rearview mirror, "What?"

"Sam, we've been lookin' for Dad all year. Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?" Dean said pointedly, looking at Sam, frustrated.

"No. Look, I'm happy he's okay, alright?" Sam replied, "And I'm happy that we're all working together again."

"Well good." Dean said, looking back out to the road.

"It's just the way he treats us," Sam said, unable to help himself, "like we're children."

Dean groaned, "Oh God."

"He barks orders at us Dean, he expects us to follow 'em without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal."

"He does what he does for a reason." Dean replied.

Sam shot a glare at him, "What reason?"

"Our job!" He said, eyes flashing dangerously, "There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, alright? That's just the way the old man runs things."

"Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, alright?" Sam looked to each of us quickly, "Not after everything the three of us have been through." His eyes went to me, pleading for some form of support, "I mean, are you two telling me you're cool with just falling into line, and letting him run the whole show?" He asked, looking back to Dean with a challenging look, "Abigail…"

I bit my lip, feeling Dean and Sam's eyes on me, and I gave Sam a long look, "If that's what it takes." I said weakly, trying to convince myself that John was doing what was best for us, despite everything. Sam clenched his jaw, staring at me with a betrayed look. I frowned, unable to look at him any further, before placing my hand on my stomach, wondering if I had said the right thing.

When it came down to it, I owed John everything—he deserved my respect and had been just as much as my father for the past twelve years of my life. It was entitled to him to have that and more. As much as the evident static from he and Sam butting heads, John being here provided a comforting shroud, and I knew Dean knew it as well. It was like he had eased off the difficult decisions we had to make ourselves.

Night had fallen by the time Dean's phone started buzzing to life—it was John.

"Yeah, Dad." Dean said with a curt nod to nothing in particular, "Alright, got it." He said hanging up the phone and looked ahead to Sam, "Pull off at the next exit."

Sam's face was full of anger, "Why?"

"Cause Dad thinks we've got the vampire's trail." He replied.

"How?"

"I don't know; he didn't say." Dean shot back, his anger flaring up as well. Just like that, Sam gunned the engine, sending the Impala racing ahead of John's truck. The force of the Impala leaping ahead cause Dean and I's heads to bounce off each other with a quick thud. Clutching our heads, we stared at Sam like he had gone crazy.

"What the hell, Sam?!" I yelled out, squeezing my eyes shut from the pain in my head when the both of us lurched forward when he had slammed on the brakes. Dean grabbed me quickly to keep me from flying forward, and we stared at each other, wide eyed in shock.

Sam wrenched open the driver's side door, "Oh crap, here we go." Dean said when he got out, "Sam!" He called out, following suit. I got out, slamming the door behind me as we quickly came up behind him.

"Sammy, stop!" I chided, looking on as John got out of his truck, face red with anger. Dean and I were readying ourselves to play our roles as both peace keepers and referees.

"What the hell was that?!" John snarled out.

Sam stopped in front of his father with a challenging glint in his eyes, "We need to talk."

"About what?" He said in a low tone, coming face to face with his son.

"About everything!" Sam spat out, "Where we going Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?"

I grabbed Sam's arm gently, "Sammy, come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires." He jerked away from me, sending me a withering look. I frowned, feeling Dean pull me back and behind him.

John didn't as much as look at me, "Your sister's right, we don't have time for this."

"Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. You even talked down to Dean and Abigail over their baby!" Sam went on, ignoring our words, "Now out of the blue you need our help." He continued as his voice kept raising the longer we stood there, "_Obviously_ something big is going down, and we wanna know what!" He finished, practically yelling at him. Dean and I grimaced.

John stared Sam down, eerily calm. I couldn't hardly breathe, afraid of what John would do. I glanced up at Dean, seeing his worried expression hidden underneath the calm mask he had on, "Get back in the car."

"No." Sam argued, matching his tone.

"I said get back in the damn car!" John said forcefully.

Sam scoffed with his lips tipping up in a snarky smirk, "Yeah. And I said no."

"Okay, you made your point tough guy." Dean said, grabbing Sam to pull him back to the safety of the Impala, "Look, we're all tired, we can talk about this later."

When Sam wouldn't budge, I tugged on his jacket as well, "Sammy, we mean it, come on." Thankfully, he relented, allowing us to directed him back towards the car, still glaring at John with vehemence.

"This is why I left in the first place." He muttered causing my heart to sink into the recesses of my body, and ice formed in my veins. It was happening all over again.

"What'd you say?" John all but growled at Sam.

That caused him to swing back, "You heard me."

"Yeah." John agreed with a sharpness in his voice, "_You_ left. Your brother, sister, and me—we needed you!" He yelled out, grabbing Sam by the lapels of his jacket, "You walked away, Sam!"

"Sam!" Dean snapped, finally getting his attention.

"You walked away!" He yelled out again as Dean swooped in, pushing him away from Sam, and I pushed Sam back.

"Stop it!" I heard Dean say, "Both of you!"

Sam didn't struggle against me, "You're the one who said don't come back Dad! You closed that door, not me!" He yelled back, "You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!"

I shoved Sam back to prove my point, "Listen, Sam, stop it!" I said forcefully, looking back to John, "Stop it, now!" I said, earning glares from both sides, "I've had enough of this shit!" I looked over at John, lividly, "It's just as much as your fault for leavin' us without as much as one word! We didn't know if you were alive or dead!"

Dean gave me a warning glare, "Abigail, knock it off!" He said, "That means you too." He said to his father in a low tone as he, Sam, and I got into a staring match. Sam had nothing else to say to him as he wheeled around and headed to the Impala.

John's jaw clenched at him, "It's your fault!"

Sam froze once again, spinning around, ready for another round with John, "What?" He spat out.

John's eyes flashed dangerously, "You heard me." He spat out, "If it weren't for you…_abandoning_ this family for school—" He shoved Dean back this time, "I could've kept Dean and Abigail in line and prevented her from carrying that _thing_!"

It was like a punch to the gut. I couldn't breathe, and it was like a cold, numbing shroud had wrapped itself around me. I stared at John, feeling utterly betrayed. _Had we not had a different conversation just recently?_ I questioned myself, tears stinging my eyes at his words. I couldn't see Dean's face, and I was sure I didn't want to see the look on his face.

Dean stared John down, "My son _is not_ a thing." He said coolly, "If you have a problem with me, Abigail, _my son_, or Sam—then you need to go back to your truck and do this alone, got me?" There was an overbearing silence for a moment. Dean didn't give John enough time to answer, nor did he wait long enough to hear him when Dean turned on his heels, walking towards Sam and I. He paused in front of me looking so broken at John's words. Tears glittered in his eyes as he took me by the arm, he shook his head, "Don't cry, Abs." He muttered, ushering me to the Impala where we climbed in the front, slamming the doors behind us, "Don't let him see you cry." He said brokenly, starting the Impala as John's truck shot out from behind us.

* * *

_**Vampire's Nest—Day**_

Five miserable hours went by hearing both Sam and Dean offer words of both reassurance and comfort that eventually led up to me snapping, telling them both that I was fine before climbing into the backseat where they both grew quiet. I knew they were only trying to cheer me up, but I didn't want this pity party, not one bit. So when we had pulled in a ways away from the supposed nest, the four of us had trekked the rest of the way on foot, hunkering down amongst the cover of trees. I saw their true faces, just like John said. They were gruesome things.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said lightly in surprise, "So they're really not afraid of the sun?"

"Direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn." John explained casually, like nothing had happened, "The only way to kill 'em is by beheading. And yeah, they sleep during the day—doesn't mean they won't wake up." I felt the familiar tug of my gut telling me that it would be wise to remember that.

"So I guess walking right in is not our best option." Dean said stating the obvious. My gaze from the vamps went from the closed barn doors, to him.

"Actually, that's the plan." I realized, earning an approving look from John.

"She's right," He said with a smile, "First thing's first, we need weapons." If it weren't for the gaping hole that was in my being, I would've smiled at him. Instead, I turned on my heel, heading back for the Impala, unwillingly gaining a waddle the faster I went in order to get back before them.

Dean popped the trunk to the Impala, and I grabbed a machete from the pile we had stuffed in the trunk. John gave me a look from his truck as I tested the weapon in my hand. I had seen it, returning the look with one that was of defiance.

"Dad, I've got an extra machete if you need one." Dean offered, turning his head to look at him, breaking our stare down, and allowed me to strap my machete to my thigh with a wince when Cody kicked my ribs. Thankfully I was turned away from view and John couldn't see me.

John smirked, unveiling a massive, shiny, serrated edge machete from a leather holder in his truck. "I think I'm okay, thanks."

Dean and I gawked at it with admiration, "Wow."

"So, you guys really wanna know about this Colt?" John asked, shutting the door to his truck.

Sam looked more than eager, "Yes sir." He said.

"It's just a story—a legend really. Well I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter..." John's voice trailed off, "Back in 1835, when Halley's Comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo. They say Samuel Colt—Abigail's ancestor—made a gun. A special gun."

John's eyes fell on me with Sam and Dean sending quick glances, trying to make sense of everything. "He made it for a hunter, a man like us, only on horseback.' He explained, "Story goes he made thirteen bullets, and this hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. And somehow, Daniel got his hands on it."

It finally clicked in my head when I realized that I had heard this before from my Dad, "They say this gun can kill anythin'." I breathed out, _but I thought that was just a story._

Dean looked at me with furrowed brows, "Kill anything like, supernatural anything?" He asked, looking back at John for confirmation.

"Like the demon." Sam realized. Then it all came into place. This is why John needed our help.

John nodded with a smile of appraisal, "Yeah, the demon. Ever since I picked up its trail I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun—we may have it."

The reality of what he said began to sink in. Sam stood in his place, eyes brimmed with tears. He looked like he had been given the way to avenge Mary's death…to avenge Jess. Dean, however, looked anxious…pensive. His eyes flitted from me to John as he licked his lips—it was a surefire way of telling he was unsure of things.

"Which is why I need you to stay behind, Abigail." John said, "That's an order."

Dean and Sam looked at each other with wide eyes. I gaped, anger fueling me to the point where I felt like I could take on the entire nest of vampires and not bat an eye.

"_What?_" I hissed out, "Why?"

"You'll slow us down." He replied simply, turning and walked down the path we had just come back from, "Boys." He called out from over his shoulder. Dean glanced back at his father, before quickly kissing my head and followed behind him when Sam frowned deeply. It was evident he was angry at John for what he had said earlier towards him, and now even more since it had been directed to Dean and I. Now that it was my turn to be under fire, Sam was livid. They met up with John, and I leaned against the quarter panel of the Impala, staring at them when Dean and Sam followed behind him.

_It's not my baby's fault_, I thought, fighting back tears before wiping them away. It felt like ages while I waited, picking up the machete by the handle and sent it into the dirt. I picked it up when I heard the gravels crunch from up ahead. Straightening up, I held the machete ready for some form of showdown and relaxed, seeing Sam and Dean, but no John. I frowned, as they turned, looking around for John.

"Dad?" Dean called out, panicked, "Dad!" We stood, waiting. Shortly after, John came running up the slope and we turned to get ready to leave.

"They won't follow." John said to Dean and Sam, "They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life." He looked over to me, "Which is why I didn't want you to go, Abby."

Dean let out a frustrated huff, "Well what the hell do we do now?"

"You gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what." John stated, looking specifically at Dean and me. We stared at him, confused, then at each other. _Where was this heading?_

* * *

_**Motel Room—Night**_

Dean and I had returned from retrieving a small bottle of dead man's blood from a nearby funeral home, and damn, the security was tight just to keep an eye on a bunch of dead guys. Bag in hand, I opened the car door with my pinky, only to be stopped by Dean. I furrowed my brows at him, confused.

"What is-?" I was stopped short by Dean pulling my face towards his in a deep, intoxicating kiss. My breath hitched in my throat at the sudden move, dropping the bag that contained the bottle of blood onto the seat. Upon breaking the kiss, Dean wordlessly leaned his forehead against mine with closed eyes, his face scrunched in a pain expression.

"You wanted to know about what happened when we were in Colorado the last time?" He finally said. I furrowed my brows.

"Dean, you don't have to—"

"I want to." He said. After a long pause, he took a deep breath, "When we had split up after that fight…I waited for you to come back. Two hours went by, then three…and at the fourth hour, I couldn't wait on you anymore, so I went out and looked for you…" Dean wouldn't look at me, instead he pulled away, and stared a head at the empty road, "I-I found you in this…in this tree _covered_ in ice and snow," He scoffed with a cynical smirk, "You were so cold...could barely move or speak."

I reached out, taking his hand in mine as he continued his confession. "I carried you a mile and a half in the snow until I found this…old, decrepit cabin that had been abandoned or something—it was something to get you out of the cold. It looked like some cabin from a horror movie if you want the details." He smirked, expertly masking how upset he really was, "There was a storm rolling in and it was supposed to get bad that night. I didn't know what to do, Abs…" He said weakly, glancing over at me, "I found everything that I thought would help you get warm, but you were too far gone. I made a fire and put you near it...I even used my own body heat—I did everything I could."

"By the time I was able to find a radio and get help…you had stopped breathing." He managed to say in a whisper, "I never left your side, Abs. To see you that lifeless, that cold…" His voice strained, "Abigail, I don't ever want to see you like that again."

I frowned, "I died?"

"Almost." He said, "The doctors were scratchin' their heads on that one. Said you were froze solid like an ice cube." Dean offered me a light-hearted chuckle, "But somehow you pulled through." He nudged me, smiling, "Told you, you were stubborn." He said as _Faithfully_ by Journey started playing on the cassette.

I smiled softly at him in return, when Cody rolled and flopped. My smile faded as I looked down at my stomach, then Dean reached out, placing his hands on each side, "I love you, Abigail, and I love our son." His brows knit together when he looked down at my stomach, "Our son isn't a thing…it's not Sam's fault he went to college and we ended up having a kid…what Dad said—it's not true, alright? It happened because we chose to make it happen."

I fell silent, listening to the second verse playing; _They say that the road ain't no place to start a family…Right down the line it's been you and me…And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be...Oh, girl, you stand by me…I'm forever yours…faithfully_. I bit my lip, fighting back tears until his hands went up to my face, "…Abigail." I heard Dean say. I blinked at him a couple of times and slowly nodded.

"Okay." I whispered out, my voice thick with emotion, "…okay." Dean smiled in relief, kissing me on the lips. I slid my arms around his neck, drawing him closer to me as the kiss grew more heated. His arms slid around my waist, our breathing beginning to grow uneven as we proceeded further. His cool fingers slid up my shirt, making me jump, pulling back a little to see him grin mischievously at me. I giggled, kissing him back. I have no idea how long it had been with Dean and I making out like a couple of horny teenagers, but when I had pulled away, he pressed on.

"Dean…" I whispered, closing my eyes at the soft nips and bites, "Okay, Dean."

He hummed into my throat, running a hand through my hair, tugging at the roots. I moaned out, almost giving into his mind-numbing ways. Cody kicked me in the ribs, _hard_, making me yelp. Dean jerked back, alarmed, "Jesus, what happened?"

I leaned forward, pressing my head against his chest, "Cody…kicked me." I breathed out, slowly sitting back up, meeting his relieved gaze.

He blew out a breath, "The kid doesn't show you no mercy, does he?"

I shook my head when another kick landed on the same spot, I winced, "Good God, the kid's a natural." I wheezed out.

He chuckled, "C'mon, we need to get this to Dad." He said, picking up bag from the seat. I nodded, stepping out of the Impala where we made our way back to the door of our motel room. Opening the door, Sam and John were laughing.

"Whew!" Dean said, acting like we had _just_ got back, "Man, some heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys. "

John was instantly back on hunting mode, "Get it?" Dean nodded, fumbling in his pocket, withdrawing the paper bag that contained the small bottle of blood. He took it out, handing it to his dad, who took it, then looked back up at him, "You know what to do."

* * *

_**Road—Night**_

Watching Dean leaned over the open bonnet of the Impala, pretending to be checking the engine had me a nervous wreck. Sam, John, and I had been concealed within the foliage of the Colorado wilderness. John had a crossbow in his hands while I carried my Matthews bow. It offered me _some_ comfort—the bow did—with an arrow and a bolt at our feet, soaking in the blood.

"Car trouble?" A female's voice cut through the silence. I peeked out from behind a tree to see a female vampire looking at Dean as he turned around, "Let me give you a lift." She offered, "I'll take you back to my place."

Dean smirked, "Nah, I'll pass. I have a girlfriend."

"Oooh." She said, drawing her lips in a pout before she backhanded Dean across the face. I clenched my teeth, reaching for the carbon-fiber arrow soaked in blood and placed it on the holder, readying myself to draw it back. John shook his head with a warning glance. He wanted to observe just a little bit longer, so I nodded, turning my head back to the road where Dean and the vamp was. This time, another one, a male, was with her.

Dean had stumbled to the ground from the force of her hit, and she grabbed his face, lifting him into the air. His hands went to her wrist, "I don't usually get this friendly until the second date but…"

"You know, we could have some fun." She said seductively. I frowned, feeling a wave of blinding anger crash into me, "I always like to make new friends." Lowering Dean to her level, she drew him close to her and kissed him, keeping a firm hold on his cheeks.

I drew back, glancing towards John when he loaded the crossbow, giving me a look. I smirked, lining up the arrow with the she-vamp, "Fire when ready," John whispered.

"My pleasure," I said, letting the string go. It made a dull thump, hitting its target while the crossbow went off a second after, hitting the male. Sam, John, and I emerged carrying our weapons, meeting the she-vamps cocky grin.

"It barely even stings." She sneered.

I smirked, straightening my neck and squared my shoulders at her, "Give it time, sweetheart." I said, passing her by to check on Dean, "That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood." I looked over my shoulder to see the color in her face drain, "'s like poison to you, ain't it?" The look of shock passed as she wavered and fell forward, losing consciousness. She fell in my direction, making me side-step and let her hit the ground with a thud. Dean and Sam looked at me shocked that I didn't catch her. I looked at them with an innocent shrug, bow still in my hand. Like I was going out of my way to catch the skank.

"Load her up." John said, then motioned to the second vamp "I'll take care of this one."

I pressed my foot against her side and jerked my arrow out of her chest with a loud suctioning noise making Dean and Sam cringe at me. I looked at them with a pleased smile, wiping the blood off it on my jeans. Dean stooped down where he pulled her up and—with Sam's help—tossed her unceremoniously into the back of John's truck.

When Sam had taken my bow and our machetes back to the Impala, Dean turned to me with a cocky smirk.

"You're jealous." I laughed at his good-natured accusation.

"_Moi_?" I asked, placing my hand on my chest, "Never."

"Don't lie, Colt, you were." Dean argued with a grin, "Admit it."

"I admit that I'm a better shot than you on a compound bow." I said with a mutual grin, "'sides, that she-vamp was kickin' your ass."

Dean let out snort, "She was _not_ kickin' my ass." He said in a voice mimicking my southern accent, "I was offering you a distraction."

I clapped my hands, "Then gettin' your ass kicked was a great distraction." Then I nudged him with a chuckle, "Looked even better with you bent over lookin' at the engine." Dean halted in his tracks at my comment and grinned salaciously.

"Then there's more where that came from." He said low enough for me to hear. From behind us, a sickening sound resounded, making us turn to see John wiping his blade casually—the vampire's head had been detached from his body. Dean's face scrunched in disgust.

"Huh." I said, "Simple, yet effective."

Dean looked over at me with his face still scrunched, "You're horrible."

I snickered.

* * *

_**Woods—Night**_

We set up a campfire in a quiet spot in the woods with John's truck and the Impala situated nearby. From beside the she-vamp, I watched John hand Dean a bag as Sam patrolled nearby with a machete in hand.

"Toss this on the fire," John ordered, "Saffron, skunk's cabbage and trillium—it'll block our scent and hers, until we're ready."

Out of curiosity, Dean sniffed the contents and grimaced, coughing, "Stuff stinks!" I covered my hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh.

"That's the idea." John said, "Dust your clothes with the ashes, and you stand a chance of not being detected."

I looked up at John, "You sure they'll come after 'er?" I asked, motioning my head to the she-vamp.

"Yeah. Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun." He replied, "But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time."

"A half hour oughta do it." Sam said, standing behind me.

"And then I want you kids out of the area as fast as you can." John said, giving us each a stern look.

"But.." Sam began to say.

I slowly got up, "Dad you can't take care of them all yourself."

John smirked, "I'll have her." He said, motioning his head to the unconscious vampire, "And the Colt."

"But after. We're gonna meet up, right? Use the gun together. Right?" Sam asked, getting uneasy and ahead of himself. There was a long pause and the crackling sound of the fire was the only thing for the moment.

"You're leavin' again, aren't you?" I said lightly, almost in disbelief.

"You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this!" Sam argued.

"Like what?" John asked, taking a step forward.

"Like children!" He said.

"You are my children, all of you-I'm trying to keep you safe." Dean and I scoffed at that.

"Dad, all due respect," Dean said, "but, uh, that's a bunch of crap." I raised my brows, seeing the shocked looks from both Sam and John. This was the second time today Dean had called him out.

"Excuse me?" John asked, taken aback by Dean's second outburst.

"You know what, Sammy, Abs, and I have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself." He said, "You can't be that worried about keeping us safe since you want to talk down to Abigail and I's child."

"It's not the same thing, Dean." John said.

"Then what is it?" Dean challenged, "Why do you want us out of the big fight?"

"This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you three alive."

"You mean you can't be as reckless." I corrected him, bitterly.

"Look... I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece." John stated, "Your mother's death ... it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die too." He promised, "I won't."

"What happens if you die?" Dean asked, "Dad, what happens if you die, and we coulda done something about it?" John looked down, not answering him, "You know I been thinking." Dean looked to Sam and I quickly, "I ...think maybe Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together." We nodded in agreement, Sam smiling softly at Dean. I couldn't have been any prouder of him.

"We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it." Dean finished.

"We're running out of time. You do your job and you get out of the area—that's an order!" He said evenly. Dean looked down, conflicted when John shouldered his way past Sam and I, getting into his truck.

* * *

The ride to the barn had been short, and just as John had predicted, the nest was deserted except for one lone vampire. He took a swig from a bottle, regarding the barn doors a moment before taking another swig. He turned, coming face to face with me and I grinned, "Boo." I swung my machete, the edge of the blade slicing through the vampire's neck, and with a set of thuds, the vampire had been eliminated.

I stood nearby, waiting for Dean and Sam to come back with the prisoners, and opened the doors, upon seeing them, "C'mon," I urged, "C'mon, we'll get you outta here." Sam and Dean came out with a couple hanging off their shoulders. Time was running out.

By the time we had made it to where John and the vamps were at, I drew the string back on my bow, looking over to Dean and Sam. Dean looked back at me with a short nod. Letting it go, the arrow shot forward, hitting one of the vamps nearby, followed by two more. The three of us emerged from the woods, Dean and I paused to shoot another vamp, letting mine go quickly, and moved towards the leader.

And _boy_, was that a fuck up. I blinked one time, and he was backhanding Sam across the face, sending him into some nearby bushes, then I blinked another time, and I was seeing stars, resulting in me dropping my bow out of shock. His arm wound around my throat when Dean shouted out my name.

"Don't!" The leader threatened, causing Dean to halt in mid-stride, "I'll break her neck! Put the blade down." For a moment, Dean did nothing, and as a result, the vampire's arm tightened his hold on my throat, cutting off my air supply. I gasped out loudly, gripping his arms in an attempt to turn me loose. Dean dropped the machete instantly, eyes fixated on me with fear in them. He held his hands out, showing the vamp he was unarmed.

"You people…" He said, "Why can't you leave us alone?! We have as much right to live as you do!"

"I don't think so." John's voice cut out from behind. The vampire spun around with me in tow, as John raised the Colt and shot him between the eyes. Letting me go, I stumbled backwards to get away, and met Dean, who caught me and pulled me close. Sam had come out from the woods, rubbing his cheek as we both watched as a sigil appeared where the bullet hit the vampire and stumbled, a brief flash of light reflected his skeleton.

"_Luther_!" The she-vamp cried out in horror, as another flash of light passed through Luther as he slumped to the ground, dead. She started towards us when another vamp grabbed her, pulling her to their car, and shortly took off, the wheels screeching out.

John smiled in satisfaction at the dead vampire, "No one threatens my children and lives." He said, before stepping over Luther's body, looking to Dean and I, "You okay, Abby?"

I rubbed my throat gingerly, "Peachy."

* * *

_**Motel Room**_

We were packing our things, ready to hit the road once again. Dean and Sam were quiet, and I sat at the edge of the bed, still rubbing my neck. Ever since we had gotten back a short time ago, I couldn't help but have this nagging feeling that something bad was just around the corner.

"Guys…" I said, making them both stop and turned to me.

"What is it?" Sam asked, frowning at my troubled expression.

"Tonight made me think of a lot of things." I murmured, "…bad things…realistic things."

Dean gave me a wary look, "Like what?"

"I've been in situations where I _should've_ died…and didn't." I said.

He nodded, "And each time I was able to get you back. What're you getting at, Abs?"

I sighed, looking down at my hands, "There's gonna be that one time that nothing's gonna work, Dean." I looked up to see Sam's shocked face, "Sam knows it, I know it, and I know _you_ know it."

Dean's face had reddened, clenching his jaw, "It won't happen." He muttered, shaking his head defiantly and turned, beginning to shove things into a bag, "I won't let you die."

"Don't lie to yourself, Dean." I said, "Should somethin' happen to me before this baby is born—" I looked to both of them with a firm gaze, "I want you two to forget about me and do what you can for Cody." Dean's head jerked up at me, fighting back a wave of a futile wave of arguing and curses. "He deserves to have a chance at life."

Silence had fallen between us, "Abigail, nothing bad is gonna happen to you." Sam reassured, sitting beside me on the bed.

"I'm just being realistic, Sam." I stated, "I could've died thirty minutes ago…hell, I could die tomorrow. This baby has a good chance at survivin' right now, and he deserves that over me."

"What this baby deserves is to know his mother." Dean said, firmly.

I nodded, "I know that, but, it's gonna happen sooner or later. I need to know that if anythin' was to happen to me, Cody comes first, no matter what." I looked to Sam, seeing him staring back at me with his brows pulled together, and very slowly, he nodded. Dean stared at him, incredulous.

"You would do the same thing, Dean." Sam stated, looking over at him.

I looked at him, silent. Dean shook his head, "I can't give up on you just like that." He said quietly, "We'd find something. Get some kind of hoodoo put on ya."

I frowned at him, "I don't want that." I said, "Dean, you have to promise me that you will pick Cody over me."

Dean's face twisted into that of pain, and extreme uncomfortableness. He shook his head, earning a tight-lipped look from me, "I can't, Abs. I just can't…"

"Dean, I'm not askin' you to choose. I'm tellin' you and Sam both." I stated.

He hung his head, squeezing his eyes closed. Sam reached out, pulling me into an embrace. It was a tough subject, I got that, but it was something that I had thought seriously about. After a long pause, Dean finally nodded, "I don't like the plan one bit…" He said, "What would I do without you?"

Sam's embrace had tightened, "You'll be a good father, and you have Sammy." I said with a weak smile, "It works out."

Dean shook his head, looking wounded, "Not the way I want it to be."

"We all can't have our way." Dean sighed, shaking his head at me, "On a lighter note, everythin' my late dad read to me as a kid is true." Sam chuckled, "And it'll be all over."

Dean smirked, "And then Sam can go be a college boy again."

"Yeah…" Sam said lightly as the door to our motel room opened, and John entered. We looked to him quietly.

"So, kids." He said to us. Sam and I stood up.

"Yes, sir." Sam said.

"You ignored a direct order back there." John said.

Sam smirked, "Yes, sir."

"Yeah, but we saved your ass." I added, seeing Sam and Dean look at me nervously. John held a steady gaze.

"You're right." John agreed.

"I am?" I asked.

"It scares the hell out of me. You three are all I've got." He said, glancing down at my stomach for a second, "But I guess we are stronger as a family. So...we go after this damn thing. Together."

"Yes, sir." We said in unison, but as much as I tried convince myself otherwise, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that we were signing our death wishes in blood.

* * *

**Chapter 21 is out! **

**Ohhhhh myyyy CHUCK! TWO MORE! _TWO. MORE!_ I'm so pumped!**

**I couldn't be anymore excited as you guys! I have to have a shoutout to _Ladysunshine6_ for helping me out on this chapter, seriously, this girl has amazing ideas.**

* * *

**The song I couldn't stop listening to while I wrote this chapter was _Faithfully_ by Journey, and that second verse spoke to me on _several_ levels. It had Dean and Abigail written all over it, especially how things went down! Thoughts on it?**

* * *

**I want to thank you guys-the readers. I seriously enjoy reading ya'll's reviews, they make me smile and therefore, makes my heart smile. I couldn't ask for any better people! c:**

**giddyfan\- I have to agree with you on that one. I didn't care for it much and it felt like it took me forever to write it out! I'm glad I was able to make it enjoyable for you!**

************************************************************************RebornRose1992\- You're very welcome! I hope you've been enjoying this story so far!************************************************************************

**************************************************************************************************************************************Ladysunshine6- I know it! I love how concerned she is for everyone.**************************************************************************************************************************************

************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************wideawakepastmidnight\- Ohh lord! I know right? Gen and Jared are total cutey-patooties! They totally deserve each other! ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************Awe, thank you! That means a lot to me! c:************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ebonywarrior85********\- Haha! I totaly agree with you on that one! Hope you liked this chapter, dearie! c:******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

* * *

**As for Guest reviewers (past, present, and future), I love you guys and I can't express how much I appreciate your reviews!**

**To new readers, I hope you guys are enjoying this fanfic! If ya'll want to, just drop a little review or PM telling me how I'm doing, what I could do to spruce this to your liking, or just to simply say hi! I seriously love all of you and I just wanted to let everyone know that this wouldn't be possible if it weren't you all!**

* * *

**I'd like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. All credit goes to the respected franchise.**

**I'd absolutely die if fanfiction .net took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**And as we slowly come to a close on _Bad Company_, I have a question: ****_Out of all the chapters that is out so far, what chapter is your favorite?_**

**Mine would have to be _The Benders_. I _loved_ writing that chapter, and the episode itself had been my favorite. It was creepy, but even creepier since there are people who are that twisted in real life.**

* * *

**ALSO. I want everyone to check out my buddy, Ladysunshine6's _first_ fanfiction story, _It Ain't Easy in the Big Easy, _and show her some love and support! She's got around seven chapters out now, and I think it would mean a lot to her as a writer if ya'll could drop by and also help get some of those creative juices flowing! It has a lot of promise! I will be posting this at the end of each chapter. She is seriously the best person ever and is so helpful!**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles! c:**


	24. Salvation

_**July 30**__**th**__**, 2006**_

_**Manning, Colorado**_

We found ourselves in another motel room. The walls were covered with information on the yellow eyed demon that had been John's enemy number one and my tormentor. Weather charts, hieroglyphics, photos, newspaper articles, written notes and more decorated it from one end to the other as John sat at a paper strewn desk with the Colt in front of him, Sam leaned against the counter nearby while Dean paced around the room, and I stood in front of a wall reading on the beast that tormented me in my sleep.

"So, this is it." John said gesturing his hand around the room, "This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we been searching for this demon right? Not a trace, just...nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time I picked up a trail."

Dean halted in front of the desk, "And that's when you took off."

"Yeah. That's right." John replied, nodding his head, "The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation."

"Alright, so what's this trail you found?" He asked all business-like.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California—houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us." John explained.

"Families with infants?" Sam asked.

"Yeah. The night of the kid's six-month birthday." Came his reply.

Sam fell silent, like he was troubled, "I was six months old that night?"

John stared at Sam for a long moment, then nodded, "Exactly six months." I turned around to look at Sam, growing concerned when I saw him grow upset. Different emotions washed across Sam's face like he had gone from upset to sad, to angry, before finally settling on guilt. I frowned at him.

"So, basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason." Sam said, "The same way it came for me? So Mom's death...Jessica. It's all because of me?"

"We don't know that, Sammy." I spoke gently with a small frown. Sam looked over at me with angry eyes.

"Oh really? Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Abs." He snapped.

"For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault." Dean stepped in, eyes narrowed at Sam's outburst towards me. He had been frustrated over Sam's constant self-loathing for some time.

"Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem!" Sam shouted.

"No, it's not _your_ problem—it's _our_ problem!" Dean fumed, gesturing out to the rest of us.

I threw John a glance, anxious as to when he'd intervene. Apparently it was on cue, "Okay. That's enough!" He barked, standing up from the desk. Chastised, both Sam and Dean took a deep breath, turning away from each other. Tensions were running high, so to speak. It was like the four of us could _feel_ the end of this long journey. It felt so close…yet it was still so far away.

"So, why's he doing it?" Sam questioned after a long moment of silence, "What does he want?"

"Look, I wish I had more answers—I do. I've always been one step behind it." John told us, "Look, I've never gotten there in time to save..." His face fell, looking extremely crestfallen. We knew what that meant, he didn't have to go into detail.

Dean gave me an unhappy look, "Alright, so how do we find it…before it hits again?"

I turned back to the wall, glancing from each paper and note John had up, "There's signs before it strikes." I said aloud, earning a surprised look from everyone—including John, who looked more pleased than anyone else.

His lips had twitched into something that resembled a smile, "Good eye, Abby." He said, "It took me a while to figure it out—" he chuckled, "Took you a few hours." I bowed my head, looking down to my bare feet with a smile, then felt a strong hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see a twinkle in John's eyes before he looked to the wall, "These signs pop up days before these fires in an area; cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms." His hand fell away from my shoulder, "And then I went back and checked...and…"

"These things happened in Lawrence." Dean finished for him. John nodded.

"A week before your mother died. And in Palo Alto...before Jessica." John said, glancing over to Sam. "And these signs, they're starting again."

"Where?" I asked quietly. John looked over at me like he had forgotten I was standing beside him.

"Salvation, Iowa." Came the reply.

Dean picked up our duffels, "Then what are we waiting for?" He asked, moving for the door. It had only taken us a few minutes to get everything packed up and placed in the Impala and John's massive truck.

I swung open the rear passenger door to the backseat, "Abigail." John called out, stopping me. I looked up at him.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, confused.

He motioned to the truck, "You're riding with me." Dean and Sam glanced at each other, surprised, then looked to me with furrowed brows. Closing the door with a mild slam, I nodded, rounding the back of the Impala, ignoring the look from both Sam and Dean. They were as confused as I was, but like the good soldier I was, I climbed up into the cab with ease, sliding into the passenger seat of the truck, and closed the truck's door. John climbed in, shutting his door as well, and cranked the ignition.

John pulled out and hit the road with Dean and Sam following close behind in the Impala. For the longest time, we traveled in silence. No music, just the sound of the engine and the whooshing sound of objects passing by. Needless to say, the silence was deafening and the least bit awkward given the rocky start to John returning a few days ago. I rested my elbow against the window, watching the scenery pass us by in silence, singing _Bad Moon Rising_ in my head. It had stayed on my mind for the past week, playing over again and again like a broken record. It was like I couldn't get enough of hearing it, but for some reason, underneath the sudden affection towards the song, it felt ominous…like a warning.

"What's on your mind?" John's voice cut through the song in my head, looking over at him with a blank look. His hazel eyes glanced over at me from the road for a moment before glancing back ahead.

I lifted my left shoulder in a half-assed shrug, "CCR."

A low, rumbling chuckle came from John, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement, "A good song I hope."

"_Bad Moon Rising_." I said.

"Good song," I hummed in response, not really knowing what he was getting at or what he was trying to do, "Did you sleep well last night?"

"As far as I know," I replied.

John nodded his head, reaching to the radio and twisted the knob to turn it on. It was on a country radio station, to my surprise, "How have your…abilities been since I've been gone?"

I shrugged, "I'm not sure." I said slowly, resting my hand on my stomach, "It's gotten better or worse—whichever way you wanna to look at it."

"What do you mean by that?" He asked.

"My nightmares have turned into premonitions," I saw him look over at me sharply, "I saw my death back on a job, and Dean and Sam prevented it. I knew it right down to the moment I was in the room. And—and, I can walk into a room sometimes or touch somethin' or someone and see what's happened to 'em in the past."

"When did this start?"

I fell silent, giving John an uneasy look, "Lawrence—I saw everythin' that happened that night…" His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly until his knuckles were white, "And then sometimes it's like I have no ability."

John's jaw clenched, "Why didn't you call and tell me this?"

"Didn't think it was important."

He turned his head to look at me sharply, "Of course this is important, Abigail. Whatever goes on with you is important."

I smiled cynically at him, "And Sam and Dean's welfare isn't?" I asked, earning a withering look from John. Realizing I had spoken out of turn, I looked away quickly. When his cellphone started buzzing to life, I silently thanked the heavens for the small intervention of whoever called.

"What happened?" John answered the phone, a dark scowl still evident on his face. His eyes went to me, yielding an even darker look when he suddenly pulled over along the side of the road, "Damn it!" He swore, snapping the phone shut and shoved it back into his jacket. Behind us, the Impala coasted in, pulling to a stop as he got out and slammed the truck door behind him. I was out of the truck seconds later, following close behind.

"What is it?" I called out after him, "Dad?"

"God _damn it_!" He swore as Dean and Sam raced up to him, glancing to me with cautious looks. I shrugged at them, not really knowing what was going on myself, "Son of a bitch!" He continued, slamming his hand against the car.

"What is it?!" Dean asked, confused.

John had faced us, "I just got a call from Caleb."

"Is he okay?" Dean asked his father, concerned.

John nodded, then bowed his head, "He's fine." His eyes flitted to me for a moment, then to his sons, "Jim Murphy's dead." It hit us hard like a semi-truck.

"Pastor Jim?" Sam asked, clearly shocked at the news.

"H-how?" I asked, feeling an overwhelming sense of grief in my chest.

After a slow, calming breath, John continued, "His throat was slashed—he bled out." he explained, "Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."

"A demon." Dean realized. His father nodded in return, "_The_ Demon?"

"I don't know," He admitted, "Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close."

"No. No, no, no." I blinked in disbelief, shaking my head as I walked over to the guardrail and sat on it, staring down at the road with wide eyes. John, Dean, and Sam looked at me, "That-that can't be true." I looked up to John, "Pastor Jim couldn't have just… _slipped up_!" My voice rose a hair, "He-he's in the big league—one of the _best_ in demon huntin'."

Angry tears betrayed me as a few escaped. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, standing up, "That place is _hallowed_ ground—no demon should've been able to get near him." I tapped my own chest with the tips of my fingers, "My _dad_ helped with everythin' there—it's virtually demon-proof!" By now, I started to breathe harder, almost to the point where I was borderline hyperventilating.

"Abs…" Dean rushed over to me when I spun on my heels and ran my hands through my hair. He grabbed me by the shoulders, halting me. His eyes swirled with worry as I scanned his face in a short moment of panic.

"That is hallowed ground, Dean…" I repeated in a small whimper, "It should've kept him _safe._" With a clenched jaw, I turned my head up to the sky, fighting off more tears that threatened to betray me. If John hadn't been there, I would've assumed the fetal position and cried all willy-nilly, but not here in front of him. I didn't dare. A long moment later, I had finally won my battle with my pregnancy induced hormones, letting out a long, slow breath before I looked over to John, "What do we do now?"

He had been watching me silently, listened to my panicked argument of how well-fortified that church had been, and witnessed my near-breakdown. Beneath the collected exterior, a flash of concern and grief had made its brief appearance before being replaced with an approving look, "Now we act like every second counts." He said.

"There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up—cover more ground." He explained, "I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week."

"Dad that could be dozens of kids." Sam stated the obvious, "How do we know which one's the right one?"

"We check em all, that's how. You got any better ideas?" John challenged.

Sam shook his head, "No, sir." John gave them a curt nod and we turned back to our respected rides. Reaching the truck, John stopped, leaning against it. I paused at the tailgate, looking over my shoulder to Dean, who had turned back to us.

"Dad?" He asked softly.

John looked at Dean, "Yeah. It's Jim." He told him softly, "You know, I can't..." His voice tailed off, the vulnerable look in his eyes had hardened into a look of fury, "This ends, now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes." John looked over to me, "Ride with them."

I didn't have to be told twice. With a nod, I closed the truck door and practically jogged to the back of the Impala and slid into the backseat where, surprisingly, Dean and Sam had left me to my thoughts. I felt the dull ache of grief tug at my heart. Just last week we had spoken with Jim, going into detail about my pregnancy and how we wanted him to bless Cody when he was born. Ecstatic, Jim had accepted…and now, he had been murdered out of cold blood. With the time between here and Salvation, I had allowed that grief boil into anger. This had to end for the sake of John, Dean, and Sam's vendetta, for the murder of Jim Murphy, and especially for the safety and well-being of Dean and I's son.

* * *

_**Salvation, Iowa**_

_**Salvation Children's Hospital—Day**_

John, Dean, and Sam had went into hospital for information while I decided to stay out in the car. It wasn't long after they had entered, Sam had exited flipping through his notebook. When he had clutched his head, I gasped, jumping out of the car and rushed over to him, grabbing his arm in an attempt to steady him. Like an electric shock, I gasped out at the contact, being thrown into a premonition with Sam.

_Yellow-eyes stared down at a baby girl in her crib as she cooed and babbled to herself. A young mother entered, checking on her child with a small smile, then stood in her baby's nursery looking out of the window as the long, drawn out horn of a train resonated somewhere close by. When she left, the tall, daunting figure of the yellow-eyed creature had returned_.

"Abigail! Hey, you okay?" Sam's voice asked out in worry. I blinked, realizing that I had a death grip on his arm, "You saw what I saw, didn't you?" I didn't have to say anything to him, for he already knew that I had saw what he saw in his vision, "We need to find a map."

Without another word, we went to the Impala where he started the engine as I pulled out a map, "So, the train tracks runs through here." I stated, trailing my finger down the line. Sam's eyes glanced over, and nodded, "Places for residents to hear the train pass would be here, here and here." I finished, circling housing developments.

"Alright, that's a good start." Sam replied, gunning the engine.

Sometime later and three housing developments checked off, we found ourselves at a park. I glanced down to the map once more, "This has to be it." I said, hearing Sam groan. Startled, I turned to see him clutch his head. "Sammy, you okay?" I reached towards Sam to steady him.

"No." he bit out as I furrowed my brows at him, "It's the same thing." He panted, looking at me with a small smile, "I'm fine." However, something had caught his eye from the other side of the road, "You've got to be kidding me."

I furrowed my brows, "What?" I turned, seeing the same woman from the vision earlier pushing a pram along the road while holding an umbrella. We approached her as she struggled between holding the umbrella and pushing the pram.

"Hi, there, let me hold that for you." Sam said, taking the pram's handle, "You look like you don't need that anymore."

The woman looked up at Sam in surprise, "Oh. Thanks!" She closed her umbrella while Sam held the pram in place, and I couldn't help but melt over seeing an adorable baby girl inside.

"She's gorgeous." I gushed, slipping my arm around Sam's waist, "Is she yours?"

She smiled to me, "Yeah."

"Oh wow, hi!" Sam said to the baby with a grin. The woman watched as we gushed over her child with a smile.

I looked back up to her and smiled sheepishly, "Where are my manners? I'm Abigail, this is Sam." I introduced, "We just moved in up the block."

"Hi. I'm Monica," she greeted, extending her hand to us, "This is Rosie."

Sam and I peered back down to the baby, "Rosie? Hi Rosie." I said seeing her look up at us with a grin.

"So, welcome to the neighborhood." Monica said, "Do you guys have kids?"

"Oh, not yet." Sam replied, pulling me against him in an embrace, "We have fourteen more weeks to go."

Monica looked to me, delighted, "Boy or girl?"

"Uh, we don't know yet." I replied, continuing our charade, "We're wanting it to be a surprise," I looked up to Sam with a smile, "Isn't that right, honey?"

Sam nodded, "Of course, but we think it's a boy." He looked down at me in admiration.

In turn, I laughed, patting Sam on the chest, "_He_ thinks it's a boy. _I_ just want it to be healthy." I answered as Sam chuckled, planting a gentle kiss to my temple.

"Awe, well, congratulations guys! They're a lot of work, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Thanks!" Sam said, looking Rosie over once more, "She's such a good baby!"

"I know! I mean, she…she never cries." Monica said, "She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you and I swear it's...it's like she's reading your mind."

Our smiles wavered, glancing to each other worriedly when Monica had turned to her daughter, "What about you Monica? Have you lived here long?" I asked.

"My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born." She explained with a smile, nodding over to the house beside us.

"And how old is Rosie?" Sam asked.

"She's six months today." She said, "She's big right? Growing like a weed."

"Yeah." Sam said distractedly, "Monica..." I nudged him in the ribs roughly, stirring him from his thoughts.

"Yeah?" She asked.

"Just ahhh, just take care of yourself, okay?" He asked with a smile.

Monica nodded, "Yeah, you too, Sam, Abigail." I smiled at her with a nod, "We should meet up sometime after your baby's born…a play date."

I grinned, a little too forced in my opinion, "Yeah! Absolutely!"

Monica waved at us, "Well, we'll see you around." Arms still entwined on our waists, we walked back across the street to the Impala where we watched a station wagon pulling into the drive, honking. Monica greeted the driver, her husband as they both chatted and smiled at their baby. Watching them made me have a "_What if?"_ moment.

Automatically, my thoughts had plummeted into a completely different place where that could be Dean and I gushing over our child after him returning from a long day at work. Where I would have 'play dates' with the local mothers and their children and gossiping over who had been sleeping around, or complaining about how watches too much television. That was when I shook my head, realizing that Cody and I would never have something like Monica and Rosie. Sam let out another pained groan, suddenly grabbing my arm for support as slouched against the quarter-panel of the Impala. Just like before, the vision he was experiencing had hit me like a ton of bricks.

_The clock in the bedroom halted. The nursery rhyme playing in the mobile above the crib had stopped as a wind swept through, pushing the mobile around slowly. A dark figure approached the crib, peering down at Rosie, who had been awake and looking around quietly. The door pushed open as Monica came in, halting upon seeing the figure. _

"_What are you?!" She exclaimed in fear, being pulled back to the wall and slid up to the ceiling, terrified. Blood started to drip from her stomach, "Rosie!" She cried out when the room burst into flames._

* * *

_**Motel Room**_

I had become increasingly nauseated since the vision. Thankfully, I was able to stave off the upchucking until _after_ Sam and I had made it to the motel room where Sam explained everything to John and Dean, while I sat in the bathroom, throwing my guts up. I felt like I had come back with a hellacious hangover. My head was throbbing, I felt fatigued, and of course, sicker than a dog.

When I had come out of the bathroom, Sam looked up at me from the table where he was sitting at, rubbing his temples. Dean and John glanced from the edge of the bed.

"A vision." He said flatly.

"Yes." Sam replied slowly, pained by his head, "I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling."

"And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because..."

I slumped into the chair beside him, "Because these things happen exactly the way he sees them..." John looked over to me, lips drawn in a thin line, trying to assess what we had said.

"It started out as nightmares." Dean explained, "Then it started happening while he was awake." He rose and crossed to the counter behind us to get more coffee, "Abigail's spidey-senses are getting worse, too."

Sam winced, "Yeah. It's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon the stronger the visions get—whenever Abigail touches me in any way, she sees what I see…" He looked over at me apologetically, "And she reacts to it differently than what I do."

"It either makes me hurt or sick." I muttered, rising to my feet. I hadn't told John about the side-effects, but since Sam was laying his cards on the table, I might as well do the same. I needed to move around despite the fact that I felt like crap. Dean maneuvered himself near me, keeping close by incase I were to fall or get dizzy.

John sighed, "Alright. When were you going to tell me about this?"

"We didn't know what it meant." Dean answered.

"Alright, something like this starts happening to your brother or sister, you pick up the phone and you call me." I looked over at Dean, who had set the coffee jug and cup back down onto the counter, forcefully and turned towards John with a glare.

"Dean…" I warned, already knowing I had spoken too late. He took three long strides towards his father, his anger boiling over.

"Call you? Are you _kidding_ me?" He fumed, "Dad, I called you from Lawrence, alright? Sam and Abs called you when I was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone?" He scoffed, "I got a better chance of winning the lottery. I know you don't like the idea of Abs and I having a kid, but guess what? We are. I know for a _fact_ that Abigail's gonna be a damn good mother, and I know that I'm gonna be a damn good father to this child."

Sam and I stared at Dean. I thought my mouth had hit the floor, it certainly felt like it. When Dean had realized what he had done, he looked back at us, licking his lips. It was definitely uncertain what his father, John Winchester, would do or say. Granted, Sam was the one who generally stood up to him while Dean and I filed in a perfect line, but this? This was new of Dean to do, also making this the third time he had stood up for him, Sam, Cody, and me.

John looked from him to me, then to Sam quietly. We shifted uncomfortably, "You're right." He conceded and the three of us gaped at him in shock, "Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours," He added to Dean with a sharp look, "You're right…about everything. I'm sorry."

"Look guys, visions or no visions, fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell we went through." Sam pointed out.

John looked to his son assuredly, "No, they're not. No one is…ever again."

Sam's cellphone rang from the table, vibrating loudly against the particle wood top. Sam looked at it curiously, crossing the room to pick it up, "Hello?" He said, answering the call. We all looked to Sam curious about the call as well, "Who is this?"

After a long moment, Sam's face darkened, "Meg." Dean and I turned, startled. "Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window." Sam smirked, "Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop." His eyes went to John, "My Dad." We looked over at him, and he shook his head, "I don't know where my Dad is." Sam said, playing along. Meg had said something that earned John a hesitant look.

He held his hand out, allowing Sam to press the phone on speakerphone and handed it over to him. John then held the phone close, "This is John." He said slowly.

"_Howdy John. I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your kids'_," Her voice came across the speakerphone in a cocky tone, "_I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood_..." I nearly dropped the coffee cup I held in my hand, spilling some of its contents over me in the process and set it down. John's eyes filled with rage, "_Still there John-boy?_"

John swallowed hard, "I'm here."

"_Well, that was yesterday_." Meg said, "Today, I'm in Lincoln. Visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi..." The sound of the phone being placed against someone's ear.

"_John, whatever you do, don't give..."_ the man's voice was cut short by Meg shushing him.

"Caleb?" John asked, stunned. We instantly went on high alert upon hearing Caleb's voice. This wasn't good, "You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go."

"_We know you have the Colt, John_." Meg replied in a sing-song voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about." John bluffed, glancing back at us.

"_Oh, okay. Well listen to this_." There was a pause, deafening, until the sickening sound of gasping and sputtering came across the line. I shrank back until my legs hit the bed, forcing me to sit down. Tears of anger and sorrow filled my eyes at the choking sounds of John's colleague, Caleb, drown in his own blood and John shouting at the phone for Caleb.

"_You hear that_?" Meg asked once on the phone again, "_That's the sound of your friend dying. Now let's try this again before I move onto another place…oh, should I say? Charleston_?" She suggested. Dean and Sam's head snapped to John, eyes wide with horror. My blood ran cold, feeling fear grip my heart in its icy clutches, and I looked up to John, tears falling down my face. I couldn't breathe.

"_Charlie?_" I whispered out, "Not Charlie. Not Kara and Gavin—they're innocent."

John's face paled, jaw clenched in rage at Meg's taunting voice, "_We know you have the gun John, word travels fast_. _So as far as we're concerned, you just declared war. And this is what war looks like. It has casualties._"

"I'm gonna kill you, you know that?" John said in a scarily steady tone. The look in his eyes were murderous.

"_Oh, John, please, mind your blood pressure."_ She stated, "_So this is the thing, we're going to keep doing what we're doing. And your friends? Anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved—they'll all die unless you give us that gun._" Meg wasn't bluffing. John fell quiet, reserved. Thinking. We all waited for his lead. To tell us our next move.

"_I'm waiting Johnny, better answer before the buzzer_."

"Okay." John said finally.

"_Sorry? I didn't quite get that_." Meg taunted.

"I said okay, I'll bring you the Colt." John said with a sigh.

"_There's a warehouse in Lincoln, on the corner of Wabash and Lake. You're gonna meet me there._" Meg instructed.

"It's gonna take me about a day's drive to get there." John said in an attempt to buy time.

"_Meet me there at midnight tonight._" Came her reply.

"That's impossible!" He said, "I can't get there in time and I can't just carry a gun on the plane."

"_Oh. Well I guess your friends die, don't they? If you do decide to make it, come alone._" She hung up, leaving us all to stare at each other, stunned. Cody kicked and rolled within me, seemingly overactive tonight as I wrapped my arms around my waist and leaned forward, desperately trying to regain my composure. There were so many people who had come in contact with us over the years. So many lives at stake, and had now just become prime enemy _numero uno_ to a demon. It wasn't just fellow hunters, it was my family; Charlie, Kara, and Gavin.

"So you think Meg is a demon?" Sam asked, breaking the silence.

"Either that, or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter." John said.

"What do we do?" I asked, looking up at John for answers.

John looked back at me steadily, "I'm going to Lincoln." He stated.

"What?" Dean asked, incredulously, standing up.

"It doesn't look like we have a choice." He told Dean, "If I don't go, a lot of people die, our friends die. Abigail's family dies."

"Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family." Sam said, trying to be the voice of reason, "That gun is all we got, you can't just hand it over."

"Who said anything about handing it over?" We stared at John strangely, "Look, besides us and a coupla of vampires, no one's really seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like."

"So what, you're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" I asked.

John smirked, "Antique store."

"You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?" Dean voiced his disbelief. He licked his lips, shaking his head and turned.

"Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference." John explained.

Dean turned back around, "Yeah, but for how long?"

"What happens when she figures it out?" I added.

"I just...I just need to buy a few hours, that's all." John told us. Aside from Cody playing kickball with my stomach and ribs, the nauseating feeling I had when Sam and I's vision ended came back. Except it wasn't a side-effect. It was just a straight up bad feeling, like my spidey-senses were on red alert and not about to stop.

"You mean for Dean, Abigail, and me." Sam realized. John confirmed Sam's suspicions with a nod, "You want us to stay here, and kill this demon by ourselves?"

"No Sam." John replied growing angry, "I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean and Abigail to have a home for their baby, where they're protected." John's voice broke, and he turned his back to us, "I want...I want Mary alive." He let out broken sob, "It's just...I just want this to be over." It wasn't often that we saw him like this, and we all knew that it was hard for him to just come clean like he did.

I slowly rose from the bed, crossing the room to where John was at. John looked back at me in a fragile state, much like Dean did, and I wrapped my arms around him to the best of my ability due to my stomach. "It's gonna be okay, Dad." I whispered, and felt him hug me back, tightly. I had easily forgiven him, despite the countless flaw he had. It was that much easier to do, than to resent the man that had taken me in. I had stepped back shortly after, seeing the fragile look of John Winchester, disappear and the same, gruff Sergeant came back to life.

* * *

_**Muddy Back Road**_

Dean pulled the Impala down a muddy, back road as John, Sam, and I stood at the back of his truck, checking weapons. _Never hurt anyone to have an extra pair of hands when checking weapons_, I recited something my dad used to tell me when him and my mother and John would go on a job together, leaving Dean and I in charge of the kids and the house. Pulling to a stop, Dean stepped out, closing the door behind him.

John looked up at Dean, urgent, "You get it?" Dean pulled out a brown paper bag from his jacket and handed it to him. John then pulled out an antique gun.

"You know this is a trap don't you?" Dean said softly, "That's why Meg wants you to come alone?"

"I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded. Holy water, Mandaic, amulets..." John said, listing off things in a confident tone. While Dean had been gone, I wondered if John was as confident as he sounded.

"Dad..." Dean interrupted him.

"What?" John asked softly.

"Promise me something." He said.

"What's that?" John asked with a frown.

"This thing goes south just...get the hell out." Dean told him, "Don't get yourself killed alright? You're no good to us dead." He said, getting everything off his chest.

John fell silent, considering his son's words, "Same goes for you—all of you." There was a long pause between us, "Alright, listen to me. They made the bullets special for this colt." He said taking the real Colt out of his pocket, "There's only four of them left. Without them this gun is useless." John allowed his words sink in and have some effect. "You make every shot count."

"Yes, sir." Sam and I said in chorus.

John looked down at the Colt in his hands with the faintest trace of a smile, "Been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here." He looked up at us, determined, "I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you three now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?" John looked to each of us in turn. We nodded, just as determined to finish this fight and be able to have the life we've never had.

After a moment, John glanced down to the Colt once again, then looked Dean in the eyes. They exchanged a look of trust and pride before he stepped up to Dean, handing him over the Colt with a nod, and allowed his hands to fall to his side.

"We'll see you soon Dad." I said lightly, earning a smile from him. It wasn't one that was reassuring, stating that he'd be back in one piece. It was a saddened one. One that said that it was probably the last time we'd ever see him.

"I'll see you later." John looked to each of us before turning on his heel and got in his truck, leaving us behind.

"Later." Dean said lightly, watching as the taillights disappear from sight.

* * *

_**Motel Room**_

We had a few hours until nightfall was upon us. It was just Dean and I in the motel room while Sam was outside at the Impala checking our arsenal for the hundredth time. We were all tense, and I solely believed that Cody was anxious due to the nonstop kicking and fidgeting. I was still reeling over the fact that Meg had threatened Charlie and Kara's life, as well as the well-being of their son, Gavin.

"Okay, Charlie." I said, pushing my hair back with a relieved sigh, "Be safe." I snapped my cell phone closed, pressing the antenna to my mouth and closed my eyes, sinking down to the edge of the bed.

"They okay?" Dean asked, sitting down beside me.

"Yeah," I replied, "They're fine…they're goin' down to their bunker they have."

Dean's brows rose, "They have a bunker." He deadpanned.

"Yeah, pretty badass if you ask me." I replied with a smile, laying back onto the bed and lifted my shirt over my belly, rubbing it in a soothing fashion. I propped my arm under my head and stared down at my swollen stomach, watching as Cody wiggled underneath. It was wild to see him distort my stomach with his feet, hands, and arms and Dean enjoyed watching it.

Lying beside me, Dean and I had fallen silent for a beat, the only sound in the room was the television. Dean then propped himself up on his elbow and kissed me, holding the side of my face in his palm in a reassuring kiss. Breaking it, he stared in to my eyes. "This is all going to be over." His tongue darted out to dampen his lips, "We could give Cody the life we never had."

"This is so surreal that we're this close." I muttered.

"I don't suppose that I can talk you into going over to Bobby's until this is over, huh?" Dean quipped, running the tips of his fingers along my throat until they had trailed down to my stomach, where he rested his hand.

I arched my brow at him saying nothing.

He shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh, "I figured as much." He said flatly, "You don't realize how dangerous this is."

I cupped his face with my hands, "I do realize how dangerous this, but Dad's expectin' the three of us finishin' this. He's just as much as my dad as he is yours and Sam's." I replied keeping my eyes fixated on his, "'sides, Dad told me not to leave your sight."

Dean smirked, "Did he now?"

I nodded giving him a lop-sided smile, "Gotta do what he says." He chuckled, kissing me again and slid down to my stomach where he glanced up at me.

"You can't listen." He said, "This is between us guys." I snorted, splaying my arms out and stared at the ceiling, pretending to ignore Dean, "Your mother is as stubborn as she is gorgeous, but don't hold that against her little man. She'll be outnumbered between you, me, and your uncle…unless you wanna consider him your aunt—." I swatted Dean on the back of the head playfully, "Hey!" Dean looked up at me in mock exasperation. I looked at him with an innocent shrug before he focused back on my stomach, "Also, between you and me, beware of the head slap. She's dangerous…one helluva right hook, just saying."

Dean then pressed his lips to the side of my stomach, "But I promise you, Cody, when this is all over…me and your mom's gonna do this right and give you the life we never had. Your uncle Sam is gonna go back to college, find a girl of his dreams, and get married…and maybe down the road, your mom and I will be able to give you a little brother or sister. Also, go easy on your mom's ribs, you're beating the crap outta her."

We both started to laugh as Sam entered, pausing to look at us curiously. Dean sat up, "We ready?"

"Yeah, everything's good to go." He replied.

* * *

_**Monica's House—Night**_

"Maybe we could tell em it was a gas leak." Sam said from beside Dean in the front seat, the Colt between them, as I lounged in the backseat with jackets and blankets piled up behind me, "Might get em out of the house for a few hours." Cody writhing inside of me on top of worrying over John and the fact that _the_ demon we've been after for so long would make his appearance tonight had me anxious. I couldn't sit still to save my life, which brought me to the next move, and leaned forward.

"Yeah, and how many times has that actually worked for us?" I asked rhetorically, resting my head against the back of the front seat. The answer for that one was not many.

"Yeah." He agreed and thought some more, "We could always tell em the truth."

Dean and I looked at him for a long moment with one eyebrow raised.

"Nah." We all said together, laughing. That _never_ worked, not even once.

"I know, I know." Sam said after we calmed down, "I just...with what's coming for these folks..."

"Sam we only got one move and you know it, alright? We gotta wait for that demon to show itself and then we get it before it gets them." Dean told him before we looked back at Monica's house for a long while.

"I wonder how Dad's doing." Sam pondered absently.

I pursed my lips at the thought of John, "I'd feel a lot better if we were there backin' him up." Dean nodded his head in agreement, keeping his eyes on the house. Hell, we all would.

"I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing _us_ up." Sam said quietly. I inclined my head, _that would be even better._ We all sighed out. Waiting was never Dean's forte, it was always guns blazin'. However, tonight was different. He sat rigid, eyes fixated on Monica's house, and silent.

"This is weird." Sam said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah," I agreed, "I feel like a perv." Dean and Sam startled to chuckle at my wise-crack. I knew that wasn't what he meant, but it felt right to say it anyways.

"No, Abs… it's just, after all of these years, we're finally here." Sam murmured with a shake of his head, "It doesn't seem real."

Dean turned his head back to the house, "We just gotta keep our heads and do our job, like always." He said, levelheadedly.

"Yeah, but this isn't _like always_." Sam said.

Dean inclined his head, "True."

"Guys..." Sam began lightly. Dean and I looked over at him, "I wanna thank you both."

Dean and I exchanged a glance, "For what?" I asked.

"For everything." He said, "You guys always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you two. And, ah...I don't know." His shoulders lifted in a shrug, "I just wanted to let you know, just in case."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Are you kidding me?" Dean asked incredulously.

"What?" Sam asked, taken aback at Dean's furious look.

"Don't say _just in case something happens to you_. We don't wanna hear that freaking speech, man." He said gesturing to himself and me, "Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, _nobody_."

"Except that demon." I reminded him.

Dean nodded, "That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?" Dean finished gruffly, and Sam nodded. I scooted forward, placing my hands on both Dean and Sam's shoulders, and squeezed them. Dean lifted his shoulder, inclining his head to where his chin had come in contact with my hand while Sam looked over his shoulder at me with a soft smile, reaching up with his hand and took mine in his.

Another hour had ticked by slowly and Dean had called John for the third time. His lips were drawn in a thin line, worry and concern forming lines across his forehead.

"Dad's not answering." He muttered, taking the phone away from his ear, and put it back into his jacket pocket. I had become restless, not being able to sit still. My legs were bobbing up and down from being so anxious, I had even gone as far as popping my knuckles, neck, and back until Dean had gotten agitated.

"Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception's bad." Sam belted out suggestions to ease our minds. Dean turned to look at me with a dark look.

"Will you _stop?_ You're makin' me car sick!" He complained. I smiled sheepishly at him letting him turn back around to look at Sam, "Yeah, well—" I stiffened in my seat when the voices in my head had went on full-blast, causing me to double over in pain. It was _never_ this bad, it was like a low murmur. I groaned out, "Abs?!" Dean twisted in his seat, alarmed as the radio up front started to chatter with static.

"Dean wait," I hissed out and pointed to the radio, "Listen." Sam leaned forward to roll the dial on the radio, hearing more static come and go. I held my hand against my ear to help deafen the voices, and focus on the task at hand, but it was no use.

"It's coming." Sam said, giving Dean an alarmed look. He and Dean had already been out of the car by the time I had managed to pull myself together and get out. I stumbled in behind them after Dean used a card to slide the lock on the front door and opened it. As Sam and I approached the lounge, Dean let out a grunt and dropped to the ground. I spun around to see Monica's husband swing a bat at Dean's head and missed, smashing a lamp.

"Get out of my house!" He yelled out at us as Dean compensated his attack and grappled with him, grabbing the bat, "Get out of my house!"

"Mr. Holden, please!" Sam exclaimed when Dean easily took control, swinging Mr. Holden against the wall, and held the bat across his throat.

"Be quiet and listen to me." Dean said sharply against the struggling man, "Be quiet and listen. We are trying to help you."

"Charlie? Is everything okay?" Monica called out from upstairs. I snapped my head in her direction.

"Monica, get the baby!" He yelled out.

"Don't go in the nursery!" I yelled out at the same time as him. Mr. Holden struggled against Dean when I moved to go upstairs.

"You stay away from her!" He shouted until Dean backhanded him, knocking Mr. Holden unconscious, and put him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. I grabbed Sam by the arm, dragging him towards the stairs.

"Take him outside!" I told Dean, "Sam and I are goin' to get Monica and Rosie!" Dean nodded, giving Sam a quick look before he went outside. Sam ascended the stairs in great strides while it took me a moment to skip a step at a time upon hearing Monica ask, "What are you?!" from the nursery.

Sam burst through the door just as Monica was sent flying against the wall, with me coming in behind him. The both of us stopped in our tracks upon seeing the yellow-eyed demon. My heart started to hammer against my chest out of both fear and adrenaline, and the voices in my head were at a deafening roar. We were froze in our spot.

"Rosie!" Monica cried out from the ceiling, snapping us out of our daze.

Sam raised the Colt and pulled the trigger, _missing_ the demon as it disappeared into smoke. Monica screamed, falling to the floor, "Where the hell did it go?!"

"My baby!" Monica cried out as she stood, trying to move towards the crib, getting caught by Sam as I rushed over, scooping Rosie up in my arms. Wrapping her in her blankets, I tucked her in my jacket as Sam picked Monica up, "_My baby!_" She screamed out hysterically.

"Come on!" I yelled to Sam.

"Rosie!" Monica cried out once more.

"Abigail's got her! C'mon!" Sam said, forcing her out of the room as the crib exploded into flames. The both of us raced out of the room where we met Dean in the hallway.

"C'mon!" He yelled out, taking me by the arm and lead us all out of the burning house. Coming through the front door first, Sam and Monica were coughing. Mr. Holden staggered up from the grass, approaching them.

"You get away from my family." He told Sam.

Monica stopped him, "No, Charlie, don't. They saved us." Dean and I came out with Rosie, "I mean, _they_ saved us." I handed her Rosie, and stepped back, "Thank you."

Sam and Dean turned back to the burning house, devastated, as I stumbled across the yard and fell onto all fours, throwing up from being in so much pain.

"It's still in there!" Sam shouted, starting back inside.

Dean grabbed Sam, stopping him, "Sam! Sam, no!"

"Dean, let me go!" Sam argued, "It's still in there!"

"No. It's burning to the ground, its suicide!" He yelled at him.

"I don't care!" Sam yelled.

"I do!" Dean yelled, shoving Sam backwards, and took notice of my absence, "Abigail?!" He looked around frantically, "_Abs!_" Sam pointed over to where I was at, and they rushed to my side. I felt Dean place his hand on my shoulder and I jerked away, reeling in pain. I forced myself to look up towards the nursery window, seeing the demon staring back at me before disappearing from sight. I retched again with more force until all that was left was me dry-heaving.

* * *

_**Motel Room**_

"Come on Dad, answer your phone damn it." Dean said in a frustrated voice, pacing around the room. He'd been trying to get ahold of John for the past thirty minutes, "Something's wrong." He said, hanging up the phone and stopped, looking at Sam and me.

I laid on the bed holding a pillow for dear life, the voices in my head had long since went back to a low murmur, but left behind one hell of a migraine. Sam was sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall with a major bitchface in place.

I nudged Sam with my foot, "Sammy." Dean threw me a deeply frustrated look from Sam's unnerving silence.

"Sam, you hear me?" He said.

"If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this." Sam snapped.

I slowly sat up, "Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life."

He glared at me, "You don't know that."

"No," I agreed, "but that isn't a chance we're willing to take."

Dean walked towards the bed, "So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?"

Sam rose to his feet as Dean came closer, "Yeah, you're damn right I am." He declared.

"Well that's not going to happen," I stated flatly.

"Not as long as we're around." Dean added as Sam's eyes flickered from him to me.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sam seethed out, "We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about." I flinched at his words. It wasn't true, not where Dean was concerned. Sam was blinded by rage to see it. He couldn't see what Dean and I saw. It was just about killing the demon…it was protecting Sam and Dean and I's son…to give Sam back the life that was stripped from him at a young age and to give Cody the life we never had.

Dean's eyes went to me, clearly frustrated at him his brother, "Sam, I wanna waste it. I do. Okay? But it's not worth dying over."

"What?" Sam hissed out.

"I mean it." Dean stated, "If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed then I hope we never find the damn thing."

Sam pointed to the door, "That thing killed Jess! That thing killed Mom!"

"You said yourself once," Dean said quietly to Sam, "That no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back." Sam completely lost it. His face fell to a look of anger, grabbing Dean by the collar of his shirt and shoved him against the wall.

"Don't you say that, not you!" Sam yelled out, "Not after all this, don't you say that."

I jumped off the bed, grabbing Sam by the arm, "Sam!" He looked to me then back at Dean.

"Sam, look. The five of us..." Dean said quietly after looking to me and my stomach, "That's all we have...and it's all I have." He swallowed, "Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together man...and without you guys or Dad..." He trailed off, eyes filled with anguish. It was a common look I had caught sight of and felt late at night when we had a room to ourselves. We'd spend hours talking, reminiscing over the past…I could _see_ the self-loathing rolling off of him; _feel_ it when he would wrap himself around me in his sleep.

We couldn't just let it end like this…not after all the blood, sweat, and tears we've put into it.

Sam let go of Dean, therefore I let go of his arm, "Dad." He ran his hand across his face when he turned away, walking across the room. Dean stayed where he was at, taking deep breaths. I came up to him, taking his face in my hands. He nodded, letting me know he was okay, and leaned forward kissing my forehead.

I let my hands fall to my sides, "Dad shoulda called by now," I said quietly, "Try him again."

Dean pulled his phone out, dialing John's number once again, and placed the phone to his ear. I wanted to comfort the both of them badly, but I had nothing to say…it wasn't even the fact that there was nothing to say—I just didn't know what I _could _say.

Dean took a sharp intake of air, eyes widened in panic, "Where is he?" He demanded.

His face contorted into a look of anger, snapping his cellphone shut, "They've got Dad."

I gaped, "Meg?" Dean nodded as I exchanged a worried look with Sam.

"What'd she say?"

"I just told you, Sammy!" Dean snapped, clearly upset. He took a deep breath to calm himself, "Okay. Okay." He muttered, taking the Colt and tucked it into the back of his jeans. I was already a step ahead of him, shoving things into a bag.

Sam looked to the both of us picking up our duffels, "What are you doing?"

I shouldered my bag, heading for the door. "We got to go."

Sam turned to watch me, looking over at Dean, "Why?"

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, alright?" Dean said shrugging on his jacket, "It knows we got the Colt. It's got Dad – it's probably coming for us next."

"Good." Sam stated, "We've still got three bullets left. Let it come."

Dean glared at his brother while I stood at the threshold of the door, watching, "Listen, tough guy, we're not ready, okay?"

"We don't know how many of them are out there." I added—my voice thick with authority—seeing the both of them look to me, I gestured out the door, "Now, we're no good to anybody dead. We're leavin'... now!"

* * *

**_Impala_**

Piling in the Impala without a second glance to the motel room, Dean pulled out, speeding the down the road, and takes a turn sideways.

"I'm telling you, guys, we could have taken him." Sam argued, still worrying about his vendetta.

From in between them, I had steeled myself against them, digging my hands into their thighs whenever Dean would swerve suddenly, "What we need is a plan." I stated, grimacing when I would be jolted to the side, "They're probably keepin' Dad alive, we just gotta figure out where."

Dean nodded, keeping his gaze on the road, "They're gonna wanna trade him for the gun." He was right.

I frowned when Sam just shook his head, "What?"

"If that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade?" He asked with tears in his eyes, "Dad, he might be..."

"Don't!" Dean bit out.

"Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you. But if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job." Sam continued.

"Screw the job, Sam!" Dean yelled.

"Dean, I'm just trying to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going." Sam said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"Quit talking about him like he's dead already!" Dean snapped, "Listen to me, everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? _Everything_." I flinched from beside him at the tone of his voice. We were all frantic about Meg holding John captive. We didn't know what his situation was, what they've done to him, or if he was still alive for the matter…he _had_ to be alive if Meg had called.

"Maybe we go to Lincoln. Start at the warehouse where he was taken." Dean stated, nodding to himself at his idea.

Sam gave him a condescending look, "Come on, Dean, you really think these demons are going to leave a trail?"

I thought for a moment, "You're right. We need help." Dean looked over at me for a moment, thinking.

"Who? Charlie? He's too far away." Sam said with a shake of his head.

"No," Dean said finally, "We're heading to Sioux Falls." The engine roared as Dean floored the Impala going well over the posted speed limit. Bobby Singer was our best bet.

* * *

**Chapter 23 is out! We're getting ready to hit the last chapter of _Bad Company_ and let me tell you, this has been an amazing journey with ya'll! This chapter has revealed many things within itself as well as showing the rare, vulnerable side of John Winchester! Be prepared to have a box of tissues for the next chapter, cause you're gonna need 'em!**

**UPDATE: I should've probably mentioned that there will be another installment for Season 2! I just need to remember what I was gonna call it! Or if ya'll can make one up, I'll pick the best one and use it! Just let me know what you think!**

* * *

**I want to thank you guys-the readers. I seriously enjoy reading ya'll's reviews, they make me smile and therefore, makes my heart smile. I couldn't ask for any better people! c:**

**giddyfan\- Ohhh, that urge to tell you what happens is so great! But in the words of River Song, _spoilers!_  
**

****************************************************************************************************************************************Ladysunshine6\- Ugh! I know, she's progressed since becoming pregnant! Can't wait to get started on Devil's Trap with you!****************************************************************************************************************************************

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ebonywarrior85********\- Thank you darling! I absolutely love _Faithfully, _ I thought it described them so well!  
**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************SassyGrl23\- Ugh! I know, right? It was truly heartbreaking to write those scenes out!**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************angelicedg\- Thank you, that really means a lot! Between the transcripts and rewatching the episodes, I try to make this as realistic as I can! **********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************wideawakepastmidnight-All I can say is that it doesn't end here.**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************Guest (Chapter 3)- I don't know who you are, but you made my day with your review. There are days that I often wonder where everyone is at, and why I don't get a lot more reviews like the next person, but I realize that not everyone is going to like my writing style or my story, and I'm perfectly fine with that. I'm blessed to have what I have. Again, your review made my day and I can't tell you how much I appreciate your kind words! I hope to see another review from you soon!**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

**As for Guest reviewers (past, present, and future), I love you guys and I can't express how much I appreciate your reviews!**

**To new readers, I hope you guys are enjoying this fanfic! If ya'll want to, just drop a little review or PM telling me how I'm doing, what I could do to spruce this to your liking, or just to simply say hi! I seriously love all of you and I just wanted to let everyone know that this wouldn't be possible if it weren't you all!**

* * *

**I'd like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices little familiar quotes from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know-they are not mine. All credit goes to the respected franchise.**

**I'd absolutely die if fanfiction .net took this story off because of me not remembering to give credit!**

* * *

**I want everyone to check out my buddy, Ladysunshine6's _first_ fanfiction story, _Ain't Easy in the Big Easy, _and show her some love and support! She's got around seven or eight chapters out now, and I think it would mean a lot to her as a writer if ya'll could drop by and also help get some of those creative juices flowing! I will be posting this at the end of each chapter. She is seriously the best person ever and is so helpful!**

* * *

**As always, tell me what ****_you-_****the reader-want to see and happen! Creative criticism ****_is_**** welcome as long as ****it is respectful****!**

**Toodles! c:**


	25. Devil's Trap

**_Bobby's Place – Day_**

Dean had driven through most of the night until the sun had begun to splash warm colors of pink and orange across the horizon. Despite the glorious colors of the sunrise in our midst, it had gone unnoticed. Neither Sam nor I had slept—we were too strung out with fear and worry about John. Dean looked wore out, both emotionally and physically from the long overhaul from Salvation to Sioux Falls.

We pulled under the familiar sign of _Singer Auto Salvage_ as lines of wrecked cars sat unattended, left out in the elements to rust away with time. Coming to a stop in front of the worn house, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement to see Bobby. This place had once been like a second home aside from the Impala and recently, Charlie's. There had been many memories made here, and it had been too long since the last time we had set foot in his house.

Sliding out of the Impala, the three of us walked up to the front door where Dean knocked on the door loudly. We waited a moment, hearing loud, heavy footsteps approaching the door as I exchanged a pensive look with Dean. The door opened revealing the always gruff looking, Bobby Singer. He hadn't aged one bit.

"It's about time ya idjits got here." He said, standing in the doorway, giving each of us a good, long look.

"Yeah, took us long enough." Dean muttered.

"We drove through the night." I added, smiling tiredly at him.

Bobby nodded, taking a step to the side gesturing us in, "Well, come on in." In a single file line we entered Bobby's home. It smelled like stale liquor and musty books, bringing some form of nostalgia to me and I smiled, walking into what had become of Bobby's living room. Much like our motel rooms, papers were planted along the walls, books of all kinds littered the room and were stacked haphazardly along the walls, bookshelves, and on any flat surface Bobby could find.

Sam had quickly made himself at home sitting behind a cluttered desk flipping through a very large book while Dean looked around, taking in his surroundings. I, however, was starving to death, or at least, I felt like I was, and to beat it all… I had a hankering for something odd. Pulling off Dean's jacket, I set it on Bobby's couch and wandered into the kitchen where I opened the fridge.

"Here you go." I heard Bobby say to Dean and I peeked out over the door seeing Bobby holding two round silver flasks with crosses on them, handing one to Dean.

"What is this – holy water?" Dean asked, holding up the flask.

"That one is." He said, holding out the other one, "This is whiskey." Bobby then took a swig of whiskey and handed it to Dean, who also took a drink.

"Hey Bobby." I called out, "Where's the peanut butter?"

Bobby furrowed his brows, "What do you need peanut butter for?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Abs is on a peanut butter kick," he explained to Bobby casually, "It's been peanut butter everything—pretzels, chips, _chicken_...even pizza." Dean took another swig of whiskey before handing it back to him, "Crazy thing pregnant chicks go through."

Bobby stared at him for a long time, "_Pregnant?_" Dean's eyes widened a little, taken aback at his tone, "What do you mean _pregnant_?" I slowly closed the fridge, creeping over to the cabinets sideways to prevent Bobby from seeing my stomach.

"Yeah. Uh, about that, Bobby," came Dean's sheepish reply, then the sound of uncomfortable shuffling. _Bobby didn't know I was pregnant_. "See, uh, funny thing—"

"Dean got Abigail pregnant." Sam's voice finished.

"You _what?!_" I flinched, scrunching my face at his tone, "Abigail!"

I slowly closed the cabinet door and looked over my shoulder sheepishly through the doorway, "Yeah, Bobby?"

"Come 'ere." His voice rumbled out. I swallowed, forgetting about my hunt over peanut butter, and turned, walking back into the living room where Sam, Dean, and Bobby were at. Dean was glaring daggers at Sam, while Sam shrugged innocently, like he hadn't done anything wrong. Bobby stared at me, wide eyed with shock when I had come to a stop next to Dean. We both looked like chastised children until he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around our necks, hugging us both.

"I always knew you two would end up together," He said, "But this—this is even better."

Touched, I hugged him back fighting off tears, "Thank you, Bobby." I whispered. We stepped back.

Dean was touched, eyes glazed over with emotions until he took a deep breath, "Thanks, Bobby." He said, "Thanks for everything." Dean looked to Sam who had returned to reading the book in front him and he glanced to the floor, "To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come."

Bobby shook his head, "Nonsense. Your Daddy needs help."

"Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot."

I smirked at the memory, "Cocked the shotgun and everythin'."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people." I inclined my head at his comment, "Your daddy was the same way, Abby, bullheaded." I chuckled, seeing Dean smirk at that.

"Yeah, I guess he does." He conceded.

"None of that matters now." Bobby told us, "All that matters is that you get him back."

"Bobby, this book—" Sam mused from his seat at the desk, "I've never seen anything like it." He flipped through the book, gazing at the contents in awe as Bobby walked over to Sam and sat on the corner of the desk.

"Key of Solomon? It's the real deal, alright."

Sam glanced up at him, "And these, uh, these protective circles—they really work?" he asked.

"Hell yeah," I stated as they looked over at me, "You get a demon in - they're trapped." I leaned against the back of the couch with folded arms and crossed my feet, "Powerless. It's like a satanic roach motel." Sam chuckled, looking at me with a smile.

"Girl knows her stuff." Dean quipped, looking down at the photo in the book with a frown.

Bobby looked over to Dean, "Her daddy taught her well." He said gruffly, "I'll tell you something else, too. This is some serious crap you kids' stepped in."

Sam looked up, "Oh, yeah? How's that?"

"Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops." Bobby explained.

"Yeah?" Dean prompted.

"This year I hear of 27 so far. You get what I'm saying?" Bobby said, "More and more demons are walking among us – a lot more."

"Do you know why?" Sam asked.

Bobby shook his head, "No, but I know it's something big. The storm's coming, and you kids, your Daddy – you are smack in the middle of it…and you're bringing your baby into something you don't want it in." Dean and I exchanged worried glances as Bobby's guard dog started barking. I frowned, glancing to the window when I began to feel anxious.

"Rumsfeld." Bobby muttered, going to the window to check outside. Rumsfeld's barking ceased and let out a whine, "What is it?" He said to himself more than anyone else. "Something's wrong." He murmured.

My stomach dropped and an overwhelming sense of anxiety hit me when the door kicked in with a loud crash and Meg came sauntering in. Dean pulled me behind him protectively while he slipped the holy water flask out of his pocket.

"No more crap, okay?" Meg looked righteously pissed, and Dean moved forward, unscrewing the flask. Meg moved her arm out to the side, sending him flying into a stack of books with a crash.

"Dean!" I called out instinctively, before Bobby had pulled me behind him and Sam. I stared at Meg for a long second, unable to gain my bearings when she looked over to Sam, twisting her lips into a cruel smile. The creature within her had been familiar, like I had saw it before.

"I want the Colt, Sam – the real Colt – right now." She said to him. Sam didn't answer, pushing Bobby and I back as she began to advance. When it was clear that Sam wouldn't speak to her, Meg's mouth twitched when her eyes fell on me, "Little Abigail, long time no see." I frowned at her, "Surely you would know where your great-great granddaddy's Colt is."

I swallowed, fighting off the urge to pass out, "Why in the world would we bring somethin' like that with us?" I stated with an equally arrogant tone in my voice to mirror my anxiety, "We hid it."

"Didn't I say "no more crap"?" Meg took a step forward, scoffing, "I swear – after everything I heard about your family, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you two chuckleheads and the bitch that sent me back to hell."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." I said, "What do you mean, send you back to hell?"

Meg smirked, "You don't remember?"

Sam and Bobby glanced back to me with curious looks when it came down on me all at once, and I swear I could've passed out right there. "_You_!" I breathed out, "I know who you are."

Meg's lips twitched in amusement, "There we go. Now that we have our introductions out of the way, did you three really think I wouldn't find you?"

"Actually, we were counting on it." Dean said.

Meg rolled her eyes and turned to look at him. He stared at her stormily, lifting his eyes up to the ceiling where hers followed. Meg had walked right into the devil's trap Bobby had painted on the ceiling, leaving her little room to do anything.

Dean smirked, "Gotcha."

It had taken Dean, Sam, and Bobby little time to get Meg tied to a chair in the middle of the floor. She stared at each of us, head inclined, with a smirk and a cocky gleam in her eyes, "You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask."

I leaned up against desk when Bobby had come back into the room with a large canister of salt, "Abigail and I salted the door and windows. If there are any demons out there – they ain't getting in."

Dean nodded to Bobby and stood up, moving around Bobby and Sam, and in front of me to stand in front of Meg, "Where's our father, Meg?" He had been relatively calm asking her that, which had frightened me on several levels. Dean wasn't a force to be reckoned with.

The demon looked up at Dean with a smirk, "You didn't ask very nice."

I caught Dean's mouth twitch and hands ball up, "Where's our father, bitch?"

"Jeez. You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Meg asked, "Oh wait, I forgot, you don't." Dean shot forward, putting his hands on the chair arms.

"You think this is a frigging game? Where is he?! What did you do to him?" Dean yelled out at her.

Meg leaned forward as cool and calm as she could be not missing a beat, "He died screaming. I killed him myself."

That was a lie, which added some form of comfort. I looked over to Dean from over at the desk, biting my lip in apprehension. He remained leaned over her, staring at her for a long second with hate filled eyes, then backhanded her across the face. Meg's head snapped to the side. I grew increasingly uncomfortable at that and swallowed.

"That's kind of a turn on – you hitting a girl." Meg taunted. Her eyes looked past Dean and fell onto me, "What do you say, little angel? Is he as kinky as he lets on?" Dean's hand wrapped around her throat, pushing her against the back of the chair with a murderous glint.

"Do not speak to her." Dean threatened, his voice a low rumble in his chest, "Don't even look at her. Or I swear to God—" Meg stared at him for a moment, smirking. I stood up, moving into the next room.

"Dean." I called out. Sam and Bobby following behind me. Dean threw Meg a glare before turning to follow us into another room.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, "She's lying. He's not dead."

I crossed my arms, "You're right, he's not."

"You got to be careful with her, Dean." Bobby said, "Don't hurt her."

He furrowed his brows, glancing from him to me, "Why?"

"Because she really is a girl, that's why." He explained ambiguously.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

I rolled my eyes, "She's possessed." They turned their heads to me, "That's a human possessed by a demon. Can't you tell?"

"Are you trying to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?" Dean hissed, motioning his hand back to the demon who only grinned evilly to us in return. Her eyes fell on me and smirked. I avoided eye contact with her, swallowing a lump in my throat, though I kept a firm hold on Dean's. We stared back at Meg.

"That's actually good news." He mused, looking over to Sam with a gleam in his eyes, and looked back to me. We all knew what we were thinking of.

Sam and I flipped through the pages in John's journal for an exorcism ritual. We exchanged a look, determining one to use. I nodded, already knowing the ritual.

"Are you gonna read me a story?" Meg asked.

"Something like that." Dean told her, his eyes flickering to me, "Hit it, Abs."

"_Regna terrae, cantate deo, psallite domino_..." I continued the exorcism, fixating my eyes on her with a deadly calm stare.

Meg turned her head to Dean with a grin, "An exorcism? Are you serious?" She mocked with pain underlying her voice.

"Oh we're going for it, baby – head spinning, projectile vomiting—the whole nine yards." Dean said, circling the captured demon.

"... _tribuite virtutem deo_…" I continued, seeing her flinch. looked over to Dean, to ensure that he saw what I saw.

"I'm gonna to kill you, angel." She said coolly, "I'm gonna rip your unborn child from your body and kill it in front of your dying eyes." Her chest heaved, "You're gonna scream like your kid brother and sisters did when I tore them to shreds," I had finished the first psalm when she sagged forward, "And what did you do, little Abby?" Meg let out a breathy laugh, "You. Did. Nothing."

Dean's eyes were frighteningly dark. The muscles in his jaw ticked, rage simmering to the top and was about to boil over at the empty threats. Sam and Bobby stood nearby, shocked to hear what Meg had brought up, "Don't listen to the bitch, Abs" He said to me, keeping his eyes on her, "She's trying to play you." I swallowed down the lump that had formed in my throat, "You're gonna burn in hell unless you tell us where our Dad is." Meg said nothing, only smiled at him, "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan."

"You look a little pale," I added coolly. Dean glanced to me to continue. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to focus on beginning the second psalm, "_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incuriso infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, onmis congregatio et secta diabolica_..."

Though I couldn't see her, the demon that had possessed the girl's body had been shaking from pain, and gasped out. I stopped, opening my eyes at the sudden sound from her, "He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time...even her and the abomination growing within her," she hissed out through bared teeth, "That's when I slit his throat."

We exchanged a glance before I began reciting the exorcism from memory, "For your sake, I hope you're lying." Dean told her in the calmest voice after kneeling down to eye level, "Cause if it's true, I swear to God, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God!" He told her with venom dripping off every word.

"_Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae. (a winds starts to blow through the room) Hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei. Contremisce et effuge. Invocato a nobis sancto et terribile nomine. Quem inferi tremunt..."_ By now, a wind had picked up in the room. Loose papers and pages from opened books flapped around wildly. The exorcism was beginning to pick up momentum and Meg started to show signs of being in severe pain. Her head whipped back to look at me with a murderous glare.

"Where is he?" Dean questioned.

Her head turned to stare at Dean defiantly, "You just won't take "dead" for an answer, will you?"

"Where is he?!" He spat out.

"Dead!" She exclaimed.

Dean slammed his hands down onto the arms of the chair, "No, he's not! He's not dead! He can't be!" He yelled out. Sam and I looked to our brother with concern, "What are you looking at?" He snapped to him. Sam blinked, taken aback at his brother's actions. I narrowed my eyes at him when he stared at me with dark, brooding eyes, "Finish the ritual."

"_Ab insidis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias, libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos_." The chair started to slide within the devil's trap like something you would see in _The Exorcist_, "_Ut inimicos sanctae ecclesiae humiliare digneris, to rogamus audi_..."

"He will be!" Meg cried out.

Dean's eyes widened, "Wait!" He said to me, "What?!"

Meg's head lolled, "He's not dead." She said, gasping for breath, "But he will be after what we do to him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" He said.

"You don't." She hissed.

"Abigail!" Dean barked.

I inhaled, "A building! Okay? A building in Jefferson City." She spoke quickly.

"Missouri?" Dean asked, "Where, _where_? An address!"

Meg's voice broke, "I don't know."

Sam shifted in front of her, "And the demon – the one we're looking for - where is it?"

"I don't know! I swear! That's everything. That's all I know!" Meg started to shake.

Dean stared at me for a long moment, "Finish it."

Meg's eyes widened, glancing from Sam to Dean, "What? I told you the truth!"

"I don't care." Dean said flippantly.

"You son of a bitch, you promised." She argued.

"I lied!" Dean shouted, "Abigail!" I remained quiet, his eyes went to me, "Abs! I said finish it!"

"Maybe we can still use her. Find out where the demon is." Sam said to Dean quietly.

"She doesn't know." He told him.

"She lied." Sam added.

"There's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there. We've got to help her!" Dean argued.

Tears shone in my eyes, "This is gonna kill her."

Dean blinked, "What?"

"You said she fell from a building." Bobby said, backing me up, "That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it – that girl is going to die."

Dean looked in between Bobby and me, refusing to budge like a stubborn, bull-headed Winchester that he was. He ran a hand down his face, "Listen to me, both of you, we are not gonna leave her like that."

"Dean, believe me, I wanna send her to hell just as bad as the next guy—," I glanced to Bobby for some form of support.

"But, she's a human being." Bobby finished. I gave him a grateful look. He nodded.

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery." Dean glared at him stormily, "Abigail, finish it."

I didn't need to be told again, "_Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae, terogamus audi nos, terribilis deus do sanctuario suo deus israhel. Ipse tribuite virtutem et fortitudinem plebi suae, benedictus deus, gloria patri_..." With one last scream, Meg threw her head back as a pillar of black smoke. It was a familiar sight to behold when the cloud spread out in the circle before disappearing. The girl the demon had been possessing leaned forward and blood started to drip from her mouth. We stood there, looking at each other, unsure that this was over.

That was, until Meg lifted her head.

Dean and Sam rushed to her side, "She's still alive." He announced, "Call 911," he told Bobby, "Abigail, get some water and blankets." Bobby and I nodded, rushing off to get the needed objects while they untied Meg.

In the kitchen, I heard the audible pops of bones followed by the real Meg's screams of pain. I clenched my teeth from the sound, placing my hands on the counter and hung my head, battling my emotions. Bobby hung up the phone, turning to me.

"You okay?" he asked.

I glanced up to him and smiled, "Yeah, I'm good."

His brow arched, "You're lying." My smile fell, knitting my brows, "Don't let what that demon said back there get to you, Abigail. That's what demons do, they lie." I nodded, "Your daddy was a great man and your mother was a great woman; they were both great hunters…the best I've ever seen. You did what you could when…you know."

I licked my lips, nodding my head slowly. "I know."

"You and Dean have a baby on the way. You need to focus on protecting that baby and finding John." He said, "That's all you need to keep thinkin' about." After a few moments, I nodded and offered him a small smile, "Now, come on. I'll get the blanket, you get the water."

"Alright." I ran my hand over my mouth, "Okay." Bobby patted my shoulder before turning to grab a blanket. I blew out a calming breath, reaching up into a cabinet for a glass.

Bobby and I came into the room with Dean and Sam around the same time, offering Dean the glass of water and Sam the cover. Gently, Dean held her head up so she can drink.

"Where is the demon we're looking for?" Sam asked.

"Not there." Meg wheezed out, "Other ones. Awful ones."

"Where are they keeping our Dad?" Dean questioned, feeling rushed by time.

"By the river. Sunrise." She forced out.

"_Sunrise_. What does that mean?" Dean asked. It was no use. She was dying. "What does that mean?" He asked her again, forcefully. I placed my hand on his shoulder. It was time to go.

Bobby ushered us through the house to the door, "You better hurry up and beat it. Before the paramedics get here."

Dean looked at him, "What are you gonna tell them?"

"You think you guys invented lying to the cops?" He quipped, "I'll figure something out." Bobby handed the Key of Solomon book to Sam, "Here, take this. You might need it."

"Thanks." Sam said with a smile.

Bobby nodded, "Though, you two keep an eye on her and protect her."

Dean looked over to me, "Always, Bobby, and thanks... for everything. Be careful, alright?"

"You just go find your Dad. And when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time." Bobby told us with a smirk. I smiled at him before we walked out of the door, getting into the Impala.

* * *

**_Jefferson City, Missouri_**

The ride to Missouri had been quiet. Neither of us spoke the entire way. Standing outside the Impala, Sam looked through the Key of Solomon book on the roof of the car, spinning a marker in his hand. Dean and I stood at the back of the car, loading up guns and putting them into his duffle bag. I winced, putting my hand on the trunk for support as Cody kicked me in the ribs.

"You two've been quiet." Sam glanced up at us from the book.

Dean placed another weapon into the duffel bag, "Just getting ready."

"He's gonna be fine, Dean." I grunted out and took a deep breath. Dean didn't answer us and Sam flipped to another page in the book before walking to the trunk lid and closed it halfway. We watched him a little curious as to what he was doing.

Sam rubbed off the dirt on the lid and started to draw a symbol—a devil's trap.

Dean stared at him, incredulous, "Dude, what are you drawing on my car?!"

"It's called a Devil's trap." Sam explained, glancing up at me.

"Demons can't get through it or inside it." I added.

"So?" Dean asked.

"It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox." I said.

He glanced between us, "So?"

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad." Sam said.

Dean snorted at us, "What are you talking about? We're bringing the Colt with us."

"We can't, Dean." Sam argued, "We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use them on any demon, we've got to use them on the demon."

Dean shook his head, "No, we have to save Dad, Sam, okay?" He looked over to me, "We're gonna need all the help we can get."

"Do you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets?" I snapped. He frowned at me.

"Dean, he wouldn't want us to bring the gun." Sam said, being the voice of reason.

"I don't care, Abs. I don't care what Dad wants, okay?" Dean looked over to Sam, "And since when do you care what Dad wants?"

"We want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too. Hell, I mean, you're the one who came and got me at school!" Dean scoffed at him, "You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean. I'm just trying to finish it!" Sam finished, looking from me to Dean.

"Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that?" Dean shot back, "You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? Abigail and I are gonna be the ones to bury you. And I'm not gonna put her or my son—your nephew, I might add—through that!" He looked at me clearly frustrated at Sam, I sighed at him. Almost relieved to see that the old him had broken through his tough guy exterior.

He turned back to Sam, who was staring at him speechless, "You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge."

Sam shook his head, "That's not true, Dean." He said lightly, only to have Dean scoff in return, "I want Dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all—Abigail and the baby included." Dean's eyes flickered over to me as he made his point, "That Colt is our only leverage and you know it, Dean. We can not bring that gun. We can't."

"Fine." He said, agitated.

"I'm serious, Dean." Sam told him.

"I said fine, Sam." Dean said taking the Colt out of his jacket pocket and held it up to show Sam that he was placing it in the trunk of the Impala.

The three of us walking by the river, searching for whatever Meg had told Dean. Sunrise. We stepped up beside some trees and I stopped, furrowing my brows.

"Think I know what Meg meant by Sunrise." I said. Sam and Dean looked over to see an apartment building with a sign out front that said _Sunrise Apartments_.

"Son of a bitch. That's pretty smart." Dean said, "I mean, if these demons can possess people they can possess almost anybody inside."

"Yeah, and make anybody attack us." Sam said.

"And so we can't kill them – a building full of human shields." I added, looking to each person that came in and out of the apartment building, scanning for any sign of a demon. Granted, I had felt nauseated, about as anxious as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, and concerned for John's safety; I'd say the place was filled to the brim with guards.

"They probably know exactly what we look like, too. And they could look like anybody." Sam said.

"Yeah, but we have one weapon they don't have." Dean said, gazing out at the building. Sam blinked, looking over at him confused.

"What's that?" he asked.

He said nothing, just looked over at me and Sam followed suit. I looked at them both like a deer caught in headlights. Sam shook his head, "No. Dean, no."

"Why not?" Dean said, "She can see them and tell us who's what. It's damn near perfect. We'll be in and out in no time."

"I'm not gonna let you send in Abigail, Dean." Sam stated, "It's too dangerous. They know what she looks like, too, remember?"

Dean thought for a moment, nodding, "Yeah." He glanced to me with an apologetic look, "This sucks out loud."

"Tell me about it." I mused.

"Alright, so, how the hell are we going to get in?" Sam asked. We all fell silent, taking in the building for a minute.

I shrugged, "Pull the fire alarm, get out all the civilians?" I suggested.

"Okay, but then the city responds in, what, seven minutes?" Sam said.

Dean nodded, "Seven minutes exactly."

"Alright, then I can do that much and do my part." I said. Sam and Dean open their mouths to protest and I narrowed my eyes, "I'm pregnant, not helpless. I can pull a fire alarm, and then I'll Poughkeepsie it."

Dean frowned, "Fine."

"Fine." I said flippantly pulling my baggy jacket over my enormous stomach, "I got an alarm to pull." I took a step forward, only to have Dean grab my arm, stopping me.

"In and out." He said, worry evident in his features, "You get hurt or something else, I'll never forgive myself."

I smiled at him, "I'm a Colt, trust me."

Dean stared at me for a long moment, "Be careful."

I smirked at Dean, seeing the evident worry in his eyes, as well as Sam's, "Always am."

* * *

**_Inside Apartment Building_**

The _Mission Impossible_ theme song was the only thing that was in my head. I had to admit that this was probably the most nerve wracking thing I've done in a long time, knowing I was waddling through the front door of a demon nest with a bright red target on mine and my baby's heads. The fire alarm was right in my sights when I did walk in. Reaching out to pull it, a man came walking down the hallway and I hurried up the stairs like I was going to my apartment. When he left, I quickly ran down the stairs and pulled the alarm, running out of the building like a chicken with it's head cut off and across the street where Dean and Sam were waiting, anxiously.

"Did you do it?" Sam asked.

I nodded, "Yeah."

"Alright, well, we wait." Dean determined, watching as people came out of them apartment building. Exactly seven minutes later, fire trucks came onto the scene and it was show time.

"Abs, just wait here." Dean said, pulling me to where a small group of trees where at, "It shouldn't take us long."

"Okay." I said, glancing to the building, worried.

"Hey." He said softly, "Everything's gonna be alright. I'm gonna fix this. We're gonna have a life together once this is all done and said. Cody deserves it." I couldn't bring myself to speak, leaning into Dean's hand when he placed it against my face. Dean glanced over his shoulder to Sam, who hadn't been paying attention, "I need you to hang onto this…" he said, pulling out the Colt from his jacket. I gaped at it, looking up at Dean with wide eyes. "I know, I know…I was supposed to leave it in the trunk."

"Dean…" I said in a hushed voice.

"If you get into any trouble, run." He said, "We'll be right behind you. And if you have to use the Colt, use it." I forced myself to nod my head, feeling an ungodly sense of apprehension just by holding the gun. "Abs, listen to me before we go in there." He looked over his shoulder to see Sam gesturing him to move, "Back there at Bobby's-"

I held up my hand, "It can wait, Dean. Go get Dad."

Dean nodded, stepping forward to capture my face between his hands and kissed me until we were both breathless. In no time, he had stepped back and turned, joining Sam as they walked across the street towards the apartment building, and slipped out of sight due to the fire truck.

I blew out an agitated sigh, feeling Cody flip-flop within me, causing me to look down at my stomach, "I know buddy…I'm worried too." I murmured, glancing to the building, "They're gonna be fine." I couldn't help but feel nauseous, "They're gonna be fine…" I tapped the muzzle of the Colt against my thigh a couple of times before looking down at it with knit brows, tucking it away in the back of my jeans.

Five minutes had ticked by slowly. I was borderline frantic at how long it had been, so I wandered around the other side of the building to get a better view. Out of the crowd, I froze upon seeing a demon approaching the front of the apartments, before converting the firefighter that had intercepted him. The both of them walked inside. _Shit._ I thought, glancing up at the possible rooms. G_uys, hurry._

I came down an alley, glancing up at the fire escapes, searching for some sign of the boys and John until Dean and John came out of a window.

"Sam, let's go!" Dean yelled, catching a duffel bag through the window and Sam came out shortly after, running a line of salt in the window. I watched Dean help John down onto the street where he and Sam dropped down, meeting me.

"Get behind me," Sam said, pulling me behind him quickly. I didn't see the demon until it had pinned Sam to the street, throwing punches.

"Sam!" I yelled out, pulling out the Colt and shot the demon without blinking. Just like the vampire, the demon's skeleton flashed a few times before I ran up to it, and kicked it off of Sam, letting it fall into an inglorious heap.

"Sammy" I said, tucking the Colt away and pulled him up easily, "Sam, come on! Come on!" Sam nodded, breathing heavily from the assault and quite possibly from shock that I had saved him. He rushed back to Dean, helping him with their father, and followed me back to the Impala to make our escape.

* * *

**_Cabin—Night_**

We were quiet, John was in a bedroom, asleep. He was as tough as a pine knot, but he needed as much rest as he could.

I stood beside Dean, watching him wring out a bloodied washcloth after wiping several places. I felt a swift kick to my ribs, causing me to wince. Dean looked up at me, concern residing in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, Cody Bryant's decidin' that my ribs are a soccer ball." Dean's lips curved into a smile when he got up from John's bedside, running his hands down the front of his jeans before he placed a hand on my left side to feel his son kick. I laughed tiredly, taking his hand gently and move it to my right, placing pressure against where our son was located. The awe-inspired look on Dean's face was so heartwarming. Even after a day like this.

Gently, Dean rested his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. He was weary, no doubt, but I knew that he felt like the job wasn't over. Not as long as the Yellow-Eyed Demon was still kicking. He let out a sigh, taking my hand in his, "Let's go check on Sam, see how he's doing."

I nodded, following him close behind as we came out of the room John was in, into another where a bloodied, battered, and bruised Sam was pouring salt along the window sill, "How is he?" He asked.

"He just needed a little rest, that's all." Dean said, eyeing his brother's battered face, "How are you?"

"I'll survive." Sam replied, turning to us with a grimace, "You don't think we were followed here, do you?"

Dean looked at me, searching for an answer. I shook my head, though deep down, something didn't feel right. It was like knowing the answer, but not exactly. "I don't know." I said, "I don't think so. I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up."

Sam considered this and smiled, "Yeah." His face softened despite being in rough shape, "Hey… Abby?" I smiled at him, resting my hand on my stomach, "you, um…" he looked down, at a loss for words, "You saved my life back there."

Dean smirked, "So, I guess you're glad I gave her the gun, huh?" He quipped at his brother. Sam and I laughed lightly, and I swatted his arm in a playful manner.

"Man, I'm trying to thank you guys here." Sam said.

I left Dean's side to hug my not-so-little brother, rising on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek tenderly, "You're welcome." Sam hugged me back, looking almost guilty about something, "I should be thankin' you though, Sammy." I said, taking a step back, holding his hand.

Sam looked to Dean, surprised, "How?"

"If you didn't make me get in front of you, then I'd be the one gettin' wailed on." I replied, "And I'd probably been in bad shape…" My voice trailed off as my mind brought up at least a thousand bad ways today could've ended. The look Dean gave Sam was almost grateful, causing Sam to tear up a little. He nodded, hugging me once more.

"I'd do it again," he replied softly, letting me go and walked across the room. Despite the grateful feeling I had, this overwhelming sense of guilt consumed me and I frowned, scrunching my face a little.

Dean saw this, "What's wrong?" Sam turned to see what was wrong, worry and concern etched clearly on his face. I looked up to them, shame-faced.

"You know that I guy I shot?" I asked quietly, "There was a person in there."

"You didn't have a choice, Abs." Dean replied.

I nodded, "Yeah, I know, that's not what bothers me."

Sam blinked, "Then what does?"

"Killin' that guy," I shook my head, grimacing at the thought of it, "killin' Meg." My chest heaved as I inhaled, "I didn't hesitate, I didn't _even flinch_. For you two or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill," I sighed, "it's just, uh... it scares me sometimes." Dean stared at me with a quiet, mutual look of knowing how I felt. Sam saw this and looked to us, not knowing what to say.

The sounds of footsteps sounded behind us and we turned, seeing John walk in, "It shouldn't." He told me, "You did good." He genuinely looked tired, beaten and bruised nonetheless, but he was there with us. Alive and well. That was good enough for me, Sam, and Dean. The old team was back together once again.

Dean looked at his father, almost surprised, "You're not mad?"

John brow creased in confusion, "For what?"

I frowned, "Using a bullet." Beside Dean, I stiffened fearing the repercussions at what I had done to save Sam.

He chuckled at me, like it was water under the bridge. "_Mad?_ I'm proud of you, Abigail. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed." I looked to Dean uneasily. Something wasn't making sense. "You and Dean. You two watch out for this family. You always have. And now—" he held his hand out motioning towards my swollen stomach, grinning at Dean and I. "What more could we ask for?"

Dean nodded, "Thanks." He said, speaking for the both of us. I wanted so hard to believe this was John talking. But this was John Winchester. From outside, the wind suddenly picked up and the lights within the cabin started to flicker. Dean looked up to the lights, placing his body in front of me defensively when John and Sam had went to the window to look out.

"It found us." John said, "It's here."

"The demon?" Sam asked, his breathing quickening. All of ours were.

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, _every_ door." John told him.

"I already did it." Sam replied, frowning.

"Well, check it, okay?" John asked, looking at him.

Sam threw us an uneasy look, before nodding, "Okay." I watched him leave, growing nervous. Everything was off. It wasn't right.

"Dean." I heard John's voice, "you got the gun?"

Dean nodded slowly, "Yeah."

John held out his hand, "Give it to me."

When I had looked back to John, I felt the blood drain from my face. His image flickered into my darkest fears that had tormented me several times in my sleep. Petrified, I watched Dean take the Colt out of his jeans and look at it, contemplating.

"Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation." Dean said, "It disappeared."

"This is me. I won't miss. Now, the gun, hurry." He said urgently, still holding his hand out for Dean to hand over the gun. Except, this wasn't John. I looked over to Dean, terrified, tears welling up in my eyes. When Dean hesitated, 'John' frowned, "Son, _please_." Dean furrowed his brows, staring at the weapon my ancestor had made. He backed up, "Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?"

Dean looked up at his father, conflicted, "He'd be furious."

'John' blinked, "What?"

"He-he'd be furious that I wasted a bullet." I forced out. Dean and 'John' looked at me, surprised. Dean, however, looked concerned by the terrified appearance I had. He glanced to his father, then to me. I shook my head, "He wouldn't be proud of me." I continued, "He'd tear me a new one." Dean raised the Colt at his father, pointing it at his chest and cocked it as I stared at 'John', tears falling down my face, "You're not our Dad."

'John' stared at Dean calmly, "Dean, it's me."

Dean's face contorted into a look of disgust, "I know my Dad better than anyone. And you ain't him."

'John' scoffed at us, looking to me eerily calm, "What the hell's gotten into the both of you?"

I trembled in my spot, "I could ask you the same thing." John took a step forward, causing Dean to get in front of me.

"Stay back." He growled out. Sam walked back into the room, faltering upon seeing Dean pointing the Colt at their father. His eyes widened in shock, glancing to John, then to Dean.

"Dean? What the hell's going on?" Sam asked.

'John' looked to Sam, "Your brother's lost his mind."

I took my eyes off the demon, "Sammy, he's not Dad."

Sam blinked, dumbstruck, "What?"

"I think he's possessed." Dean said, getting upset, "I think he's _been _possessed since we rescued him."

John shook his head, "Don't listen to him, Sammy."

Sam looked to Dean and I, "How do you know?"

I looked at him, "He's…he's different." My voice cracked, "Because I can _see_ it, Sam."

"You know, we don't have time for this. Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you've gotta trust me." Sam looks back and forth between his father and brother and me, conflicted and confused. Dean glanced at him, but doesn't say anything else to convince him, "Sam?"

Sam looks back and forth, saying nothing but moves over to stand by Dean's side to keep me behind them, "No. No." The look on 'John's' face looked so…betrayed. If it had really been John, then I would've been the first one to have broken down and went to him for comfort. But this wasn't him and my eyes didn't deceive me.

John looked to each of us in disdain, "Fine. You three are so sure, go ahead. _Kill me_." He dared, lowering his head and waited. The longer Dean had the Colt trained on him, the more conflicted he grew. It came to the simple fact that I didn't lie about what I saw. After long moments dragged by without a move being made, John chuckled.

"I thought so." He said, looking back up to the boys—his eyes yellow. Sam lunged forward, but is thrown against the wall, pinned there along with Dean. The sound of the Colt dropping, my heart sank. I looked back at them, terrified. The demon sauntered by me, over to where Dean had dropped the weapon, and picked it up, "What a pain in the ass this thing's been." He looked up to Dean and Sam, both men staring at me, panicked.

"It's you, isn't it?" Sam asked, "We've been looking for you for a long time."

The demon in John's body grinned, splaying his arms out, "Well, you found me."

"But the holy water?" Sam questioned.

John laughed, "You think something like that works on something like _me_?" Sam struggled against the force that has him pinned to the wall, but fails to do so, looking to me. John turned to me, an arrogant grin on his face. Dean started to struggle, growing frantic each second passed with him against the wall. John approached me, then paced; assessing me as a whole. "Abigail Colt, in the flesh." He grinned wickedly, looking up to Dean, "And _my_, you've been busy." A _tsk_ing sound clicked in his mouth, and reached out to stroke the side of my face. I tensed, staring defiantly at him. "_Naughty_, _naughty_."

"I'm gonna kill you!" Sam roared out from beside Dean.

John looked to Sam, "Oh, that'd be a neat trick." He said with a defiant laugh, "In fact," he placed the gun down on a table, "here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy." I looked to it, contemplating my chances, "Oh, but not you sweetheart." John said to me, "We have some _things_ to discuss."

Sam looked to the gun, concentrating hard, but nothing happens. I looked to the demon, "Like _what_?"

He chuckled, walking around me, only to get close enough to where I felt the heat of his breath on my skin. I shuddered feeling his hands on my arms, "You're a rare find, Abby. So rare in fact, it would be a shame, if something bad happened to you."

"Leave her be you son of a bitch!" Dean growled, "If you have beef, it's with us. Not her."

The demon turned, yellow eyes staring him down, "Well, this is fun." Attention caught by Dean's outburst, he walked over to the window beside him, "I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this..." He motioned to him and Sam, then to me planted and sighed, "This is worth the wait."

Dean struggled, but is still pinned to the wall, "Your Dad – he's in here with me." The demon taunted in John's body, "Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says "hi", by the way." John moved closer to Dean, "He's gonna tear your little play thing apart." He continued, eyes moving back across the room to me, "He's gonna taste the iron in her blood."

Dean's head twisted to look at him. There was several emotions running rampant in his eyes, but one that reigned control most of all, was rage, "Let them go, or I swear to God –" He threatened.

"What? What are you and God gonna do?" John challenged, "You see, as far as I'm concerned, _this_ is justice." He moved over to me, Dean's eyes never leaving him, "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

Dean frowned, "Who, Meg?"

John's fingertips barely touched my chest, "The one in the alley? That was my boy." He turned his head to look at Dean, "You understand."

"You've got to be kidding me." Dean muttered, rolling his eyes.

John shrugged, "What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children." His hand wrapped around my neck, gripping it like a vice. I gasped out, reaching up and clawing at his hands.

"No!" Sam and Dean yelled out in unison.

John's grin twisted into a toothy grin, "How would you feel if I killed your family? Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did." His grip was unwavering, "Besides, you never wanted this child, Dean. What does this whore got that you can't find in another?" Dean's eyes widened in horror, "Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

He made me move, hand still on my throat. My chest heaved and shuddered as I stumbled backwards. Dean watched on, murderous, "You son of a bitch." He looked to me, "Don't listen to him, Abs."

I looked at him, tears falling. "I wanna know why. Why'd you do it?" Sam asked, glaring at the demon.

John turned, looking to Sam, "You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty, little Jess?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

John laughed look at me, enjoying the sight of my face turning purple, then up to Dean, "You know, I never told you two this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him." His eyes fixated back to Sam, "Been shopping for rings and everything. You want to know why? Because they got in the way." His fist clenched around my throat even further with crushing force. I let out a wheezing sound, gaping like a fish out of water, and squeezed at his hand. "Much like this one." He snarled out, "And I will see to it that no one, not even _her_, gets in my way again."

I felt consciousness slipping away from me. _I couldn't go out like this_!

"In the way of what?" Sam questioned, in hopes of distracting the demon that had ahold of his father.

It worked for the most part. His grip loosened and I gasped out loudly, "My plans for you, Sammy. You... and all the children like you."

Dean laughed cynically, "Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can't stand the monologuing."

John drug me with him as he went up to Dean, "Funny, but that's all part of your M.O., isn't it?" Dean eyed him, glancing down at me saying nothing, "Masks all that nasty pain, masks the truth."

Dean's smirk faltered, "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them. Sam – he's clearly John's favorite. It might even be a tight race between Sammy here, and the girl." He looked down to me, grinning at the sight of my eyes rolling in the back of my head, "Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you."

Dean smiled defiantly at him, "I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. Abs and I wasted 'em."

John looked to Dean, and smirked. "Too bad daddy here is going to kill daughter dearest and your bastard child."

Pain erupted throughout me, a pained cry ripping through my throat as John let me fall backwards, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Dean's smile twisted into a look of sheer terror.

"Abigail!" Dean yelled out, struggling to get to me, and yelled out in pain as well.

* * *

**_Sam's Point of View_**

"Dean! Abigail! No!" I yelled out, straining against whatever force had Dean and I held. Beside me, Dean started to bleed heavily from his chest while blood came from Abigail's mouth and nose. The both of them twisted in pain, Abigail curling in a ball and screamed. My heart beat wildly from within my chest. I couldn't do anything to save them.

They were gonna die.

"Dad!" Dean gritted out, "Dad, don't you let it kill me! Don't let it kill Abigail!" Our father looked at him and smiles, causing Dean to scream out in pain. Abigail's screaming got louder, more pain-filled. Her body went rigid, blood was now seeping out from between her legs.

My heart sank. _Oh god, the baby!_ I looked in horror from Dean and Abigail, not knowing what to do. I kept struggling, "Dean! Abigail! No!"

Dean was bleeding profusely until it started to run out of his mouth, "Dad, please." He pleaded, passing out shortly after.

"Dean!" I shouted out as angry tears stung my eyes. Abigail had gone silent. _Oh, God_. Suddenly, I was let go and fell, looking up at my dad.

"Stop-Stop it" He told me. I wasted no time, diving and grabbing the gun off the table. My dad turned to me, eyes yellow once again. He had lost control. I aim the gun at him.

The demon wearing my father as a meat suit grinned at me arrogantly, "You kill me, you kill Daddy."

"I know." I said, firing the gun, shooting him in the leg. As soon as he fell, so did Dean. I ran over to him, "Dean? Dean, hey?" I looked him over, "Oh God, you've lost a lot of blood."

"Where's Dad?" He asked softly, eyes fluttering from the blood loss. I looked over my shoulder to see him lying motionless on the floor. Dean nodded, "What-what about Abs?"

A chill of fear went up my spine, "Hold on." I said, seeing him nod. I got up rushing over to Abigail. I fell to my knees, "Abigail! Hey, hey. Abigail. Wake up." I urged, shaking her shoulders roughly, "I-I need you to wake up, Abigail. Let me know you're okay."

She stirred, coughing. Instantly she arched her back, groaning out in pain. "He's-he's done somethin'!" Trembling, I looked over to Dean, who was watching, worried out of him mind. Slowly, he stumbled to his feet.

"Dean—" I protested.

He shook his head, "Either I go to her, or you bring her to me." He shook terribly, "I'd rather it be me. Go check on him." I looked over to Dad.

"_Dean_." I said.

"_Go_ check on him." He said, practically falling to his knees and laid down beside Abigail. I watched for a moment as my brother gently touch Abigail's face, whispering words of encouragement to her. She nodded, then winced in pain—whimpering out, "_God, it hurts_." I went over to check on my father, who was lying motionless.

I leaned over him, "Dad? _Dad_?"

He suddenly looked up at me, panicked, "Sammy! It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!" Without hesitating, I aimed the gun at his chest, "Do it now!"

"Sam, don't you do it." I heard Dean call out, "Don't you do it."

"You've gotta hurry! I can't hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now!" He pleaded, "Sammy!"

"Sam, no." Abigail's frail voice whispered from across the room. I swallowed hard.

"You do this! Sammy! Sam..." My dad ordered, only to be cut off by a black cloud erupting from his mouth. I watched in shock as it disappeared through the floor, only to meet the accusing glare of my dad.

* * *

**_In the Impala_**

In the Impala, Dad sat beside me while Dean and Abigail were in the back. Dean was slumped over, cradling Abigail in his arms. The both of them were silent, hearing the faintest whisper of my brother cajoling her in an attempt to keep her calm. I looked back seeing her face scrunch in pain. The son of a bitch had done something to Abigail and to the baby.

_What if he's caused her to go into labor?_ I thought, hearing my father gasp out in pain, "Look, just hold on, alright?" I told them, "The hospital's only ten minutes away."

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first," He said, "– before me, before everything." My hands tightened at that. Anger boiled deep from within me, it actually made me nauseous. I looked back up into the rearview mirror at Dean and Abigail. _They _were more important. The well-being of my unborn nephew was more important.

I shook my head, "No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we've still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon—."

The sickening smash and groans of metal twisting against metal on the passenger side as something big had plowed into the car at full speed, driving it sideways in front of it a good twenty, maybe thirty yards. Upon impact, everything had gone black.

* * *

**_Crash Site—Night_**

**_Sam's Point of View_**

_Don't go around tonight…well, it's bound to take your life…there's a bad moon on the rise…_I swallowed, tasting the metallic bite of blood in my mouth as waves of pain blindsided me. My breathing came out in shallow, quick bursts as I lolled my head over and held the Colt in my lap, grasping it firmly in my hand. The truck driver who had hit us stepped out of his truck, and approached the driver's side—my side—reaching out and pulled the door off with ease. In the light of the truck's headlights, the driver's eyes flashed black, grinning at me. I realized that we had been hit by a demon.

I blinked slowly, holding a firm gaze on the demon, "_Back_." I threatened weakly, "Or I'll kill you, I swear to God."

The demon smirked at me, "You _won't_. You're saving that bullet for someone else."

My thumb rested on the hammer, the clicking of the Colt cocking back earned a smile from the demon, "You wanna bet?" I threatened, watching as black demon-ichor poured out of the man it was possessing a second later, leaving him to regain consciousness over his own body, and collapsed onto his hands and knees. Uncocking the gun, I leaned my head back with a brief sigh of relief. We were safe…for now.

The truck driver slowly raised his head, seeing what he had done, "Oh my god!"

Ignoring the man, I rolled my head over to the side, "Dad?" I called out, seeing him slumped in the seat, unconscious and bloodied. I swallowed down the lump of despair in my throat, moving my head to see into the backseat, "Dean? Abigail? _Guys!?_" I called out, scared that neither of them were answering. Fear encased me in a cold cocoon, fearing the worst out of Abigail when I had called out of her. There was no response from anyone.

* * *

**The final chapter is out for Season 1! Holy crap, how wild is this?! **

**We've made it a long way to get to the end of Season 1 of _Supernatural_ and the first installment of _Bad Company_! We've all been acquainted with the characters, the plots, the heartbreaks, and the surprises! From the beginning, it was just a pair of brothers and a girl trying to find their father. Now, it's a family fighting for their lives.**

**Any of you get mad at the computer or felt like crying? I most certainly did, and I was the one writing it!**

* * *

**I have to thank you guys-the readers. Ya'll made this happen! I have never met anyone as sweet as ya'll. Your reviews have made me smile, laugh, and even tear up! They really make my day when I see them! I couldn't ask for any better people! c:**

**giddyfan- I know where you're coming from, but I can't release any deets of Season 2! I'm dying from preventing myself from spilling the beans! Bear with me!**

**Thegirlwhowaited24601- Yes, ma'am! I'll get it out as soon as I can! I'm hoping sometime before the New Year as celebration for it!**

**Ladysunshine6- I hope you loved this chapter dearie! Now we can discuss the heartbreak of next season! :D**

**Guest- Awe, thank you so much for your kind words! That really means a lot to see that! I hope to see more reviews from you soon!**

**ebonywarrior85- Thank you! Merry Christmas to you too! I think a lot of us would like to have Dean for a Christmas gift! haha.**

**angelicedg- Thank you! I hope this was crazy enough for ya! Season 2 will be it's own titled story, and I am aiming to have it up to kickstart the New Year! So, keep your eyes peeled! c:**

**To Guest readers (past, present, and future), I love you guys and I can't express how much I appreciate your reviews! Each one of you hold a special place in my heart! **

**To all my readers and followers, I hope you have enjoyed this fanfic! Season 2 is in the baby stages, and a name is currently being discussed, so, if ya'll want to come up with one, just shoot me a PM or put it in a review! Let me know how I'm doing, what ya'll are wanting to see in Season 2, or just simply say hi!**

* * *

**For Season 2 titles; there are three titles that Ladysunshine and I have come up with:**

**1\. Sound of Madness (from Shinedown)**

**2\. Brokenhearted (from Bad Company)**

**3\. Strike Back (from We As Human)**

**Let me know what you like best! Even send me a suggestion! It might become a title for a season! **

* * *

**I'd like to give credit to everyone in the _Supernatural_ franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices a familiar quote from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know they are not mine. All credit goes to the respected franchise.**

**I would absolutely die if fanfiction .net took this down for my stupidity.**

* * *

**I want to thank Ladysunshine6 for all of her help on this. She has been the absolute best writing buddy. As you all know, she has a fanfiction out named _Ain't Easy in the Big Easy_. It is on hellatus, but she currently has 7 chapters out. Please go over there and give it a read, give her some feedback and help her creative juices get flowing!**

* * *

**As always, tell me what you guys want to see and have happen! Creative criticism is welcome as long as it is respectful!**

**Much love guys! c:**


	26. Author's Note--Bad CompanyStrike Back

**Author's Note—Bad Company/Strike Back**

* * *

I want to thank everyone for making this become a reality! Creating a successful fanfic had been a long dream of mine and after a few failed ones, I can officially say that _Bad Company_ is COMPLETED. I can't express how happy, proud, sad, and ecstatic I am to have you guys. I can't express my appreciation for ya'll, and I can't express how much I appreciate the help I got from a few of you—especially from Ladysunshine6.

The first chapter for Strike Back will be out sometime today, so stay tuned!

* * *

**Grapejuice101**\- Head on over to Strike Back to find out what happens!

**Thegirlwhowaited24601**\- I know right?!

**GuestGirl23**\- Awe, thank you so much! I appreciate your kind words! Head on over to Strike Back and I think you will love it! C:

**Guest**\- Thank you! I'm glad you love it!

**Ladysunshine6**\- Thank you m'dear! I couldn't have done it without you! SO happy that we made it this far!

**Sarah**\- Thank you, love! I can assure you that you will be in love with the next installment!

**Giddyfan**\- That would be interesting for sure! I'll definitely keep that in mind!

**SassyGrl23**\- I know! I loved writing that part, and I've always loved Bobby.

**Angelicedg**\- Thank you! &amp; why yes, that's Amber Heard! I've always loved her, and when this was in it's infancy, I couldn't stop thinking about her as Abigail.

**Wideawakepastmidnight**\- rofl! The only thing I could imagine was the GIF for the Tenth Doctor going "Why would you do that?!" and I started laughing. Is that a bad thing to do? Hope you like Strike Back! C:

**Ebonywarrior85**\- Awe, thank you! I chose Amber Heard to feature as Abigail because I think she fits the criteria perfectly, especially in the movie _Drive Angry_. That's essentially who she's based off of. Glad you loved Bad Company!

**Romantic Journalist**\- Awe, thank you! &amp; Me too, Dean deserves someone to love him, and you always see Sam try to have the stable relationships. The first chapter for Strike Back will be out shortly! c:

**Sarahmichellegellarfan1**\- Gotta read Strike Back to find out what happens and I promise you'll love it! C:

* * *

**UPDATE 2/22/2015: I finally found the time to try and attempt at making a Tumblr for this series as a whole, and I realize that it is a little bland for my taste, but it's got the job done in my opinion for now. So, if ya'll have one follow me!**

Tumblr: coltabigail dot tumblr dot com!


End file.

Supernatural, Romance, Supernatural