Chapter 2

I've always had trouble sleeping in cars. It was always one of those things for me. There was always too much noise or it was too cold or the car was too rickety, but the road to Lawrence was smooth sailing. I was out in no time at all.

I could feel Gabby on the edge of my mind while I slept. Her thoughts were running in and out of my dreams and changing their direction, kind of like when you start to register a song or movie playing in the room when you're deep asleep. My dreams were just regular dreams; there were no dead family members, no monsters, no nightmares. Thank God.

We came to a gas station somewhere near the Kansas-Nebraska border. Gabby's subconscious was seething with complaints about gas prices and night driving. I looked out the window to smile at her furrowed brow and frown. In this lighting, she almost looked like a ghost or a specter. Her skin was more pale, her hair looked as dark as midnight, and her blue eyes were fierce and icy. Her expression softened when she saw that I was awake.

"Want me to take the wheel for a while?" I thought lazily.

"Only if you promise to drive like a normal human being. I'd rather not die in my sleep off the side of a highway in Bumfuck, Egypt," Gabby replied in a rather snarky tone.

"Yeah, yeah I know. Just give me a minute to stretch and pee." I gathered all of my will power to climb out of the car and walk around for a minute. I found the bathroom, which was seedy at best, and hurried back to the car. Gabby was already sitting shotgun, arms crossed, and waiting.

I didn't say anything as I climbed into the driver's seat and took off into the night. I didn't need to. I knew that Gabby could read the emotions rolling off of me and the thoughts I was thinking, so why bother? I wasn't as good at the whole mind reading thing, but I could feel her mind start to mute and fade into unconsciousness. I took a minute to distance myself from her mind so that I didn't have to be a bystander in her dreams.

The road was dark, and we were surrounded by cornfields. There was absolutely no scenery, no other cars around, and I couldn't turn the radio on. Everything was silent except for the thrum of the engine, and I hated it. For the first hour or so, I was fine. I silently went over all the lore we had learned in my head to try to burn it into my brain. Eventually, I couldn't concentrate on the information anymore. There was nothing around to distract me, nothing to keep me from thinking about what had happened.

Everyone I loved was gone in less than ten minutes. I was never going to eat breakfast with my baby brother and sister again. My mom was never going to take me out to get pasta after a Field Hockey game again. There was no one for me to call and no one to take care of me. Gabby was the only person I had left in this world. My face felt too hot. I wanted to cry.

I bit my tongue and laid into the gas pedal. The faster we got there, the faster I could get my mind off of it. There wasn't a thing that this woman could say or do that wouldn't be a welcome distraction.

I pulled up to Missouri's house at an ungodly hour in the morning. Gabby was still asleep in the passenger seat, and I'd be willing to bet money that Missouri was out cold too. The only reasonable course of action would be to wait until dawn or at least a more appropriate hour, so I grabbed a flashlight and a book out of the trunk and set to work.

It took two hours, or nine chapters, until the edges of the sky started to turn pink. Gabby woke up several times either from a nightmare or from the way her neck was crammed in between the seat and the window. She didn't say much. She mostly tossed and turned and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead before going back to sleep.

I was musing about the actual existence of shape shifters when I was startled by a loud rapping sound. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the intrusion, but Gabby didn't move an inch. My head snapped to the sound of the knocking, where I saw a plump, African-American lady standing next to my window gesturing for me to get out of the car.

"Nearly scared me half to death….sitting in the car all out in the open like this like they haven't got a lick of sense….goodness, she's just a baby of a girl…" were the thoughts radiating off of her. Her mind was too fast and foreign to really get a hold on her inner monologue.

"My name is Missouri, but you already knew that. I'm sure you two are Abigail and Gabrielle, correct?" she asked and I nodded quickly. My adrenaline was still pumping. "How about you wake your friend up and come inside before you catch a cold out here?" She started to retreat back to her house while I shook Gabby awake.

"Grab your bag. We're going inside," I thought as she mumbled out confused questions and muted protests. I threw her the backpack with her things, and she groaned as she slipped out of the car. Missouri was waiting for us with the door open as we walked quickly up the sidewalk and into her house.

"Come with me," she said, sighing in either resignation or annoyance. I'm not sure which one it was. Her thoughts were running more like "little slip of a thing…middle of the night…don't know how much I can do with 'em…" I'm sure Gabby was getting the full gist of it, but I was too tired to try.

"This is my only guest bedroom. You two can fight over who's sleeping where. It's no never mind to me," Missouri said once we reached our destination. We both smiled and mumbled out our appreciation. She gave us a small smile and returned to her bedroom.

Gabby and I didn't talk as we slipped out of our shoes and clothes and into more comfortable things to sleep in. It was only a twin bed, but we still decided to share it. I set my knife on the ground next to the bed and settled in. I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow, but I'd be surprised if Gabby went to sleep at all.

When I woke up, I was alone. A hand to Gabby's pillow sent images flitting through my mind. Gabby had sat up not too long ago. She had drug a hand across her face and looked at me before padding out of the room. She had found her way downstairs and seen Missouri, and shortly after, she started chowing down on the source of the delicious smell that was wafting up to our room.

I grunted and tried to stretch some of the sleep out of my joints, but I was tired all the way down to my bones. I laid in bed for a few minutes silently debating whether or not I should get up and eat or catch some more sleep. Food won this time.

I found the kitchen quickly, but Missouri wasn't there. It was just Gabby, who was nursing a cup of coffee. She was still in her mix-match pajamas with her dark hair done up in a bun and her eyes droopy with fatigue. It was strange to see her undone; she put such store in her physical appearance.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty," she smiled. I shook my head, found a plate, and promptly started shoveling eggs and bacon onto it. She wrinkled her nose at the amount of strips I was piling onto my plate.

"You can boycott pork all you want, but that's not going to stop me," I thought wistfully.

"You're going to clog an artery," Gabby replied dismissively. She thinks pigs are cute, so she doesn't eat pork. That logic doesn't make sense in my books, but I guess her diet is her business. We sat in silence while I ate.

"I wonder where Missouri could be," I thought to myself after another scan of the surrounding area. Gabrielle heard me, of course.

"She said she was with a client," she replied. I raised my eyebrows in question, but she just shrugged. I went back to my breakfast, happy to wait for her to be done with whatever it is she's supposed to be doing. It wasn't long before she wandered back into the kitchen.

"Good, you're both up," Missouri said when she spotted us at the table, "Sleep well, Abigail?"

"Yeah. Thanks for breakfast," I replied with a smile. My voice was gravelly from sleep and lack of use. I knew the mumbling and the cracks were unattractive, but I loathed verbal communication.

"That's all fine and good, dear, but you mumble in your head too," Missouri said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. I was startled to the point where I ended up choking on my eggs as Gabby laughed hysterically from across the table.

"That'll be lesson number one for you, Abby. As for you," she said while pointing a finger at Gabby. "You need to turn it down about five notches." That got the laughter to die off.

"You're psychic." I wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement coming from me.

"Yes. Why do you think Bobby sent you to me? You two need some training up in a department he can't even begin to fathom."

"Bobby…Bobby knew?" Gabrielle asked incredulously. I rolled my eyes. It's no one's fault but hers. Maybe he would've figured it out even if she hadn't blown our cover.

"That man doesn't miss a thing, and neither do I for that matter. So don't try to pull anything cute on me. I run a tight ship. You understand?" Missouri replied. Gabby and I exchanged a what-the-hell-have-we-gotten-into look.

"Yes ma'am," we said in unison.

"What the hell have we gotten into?" I thought to Gabby as we were pulling weeds out of Missouri's garden. She had been teaching us everything she knew about psychic abilities, but it didn't come free. Missouri had us doing every dirty job she could think of to spare herself the trouble. I would complain more, but she was feeding us, sheltering us, and teaching us things I hadn't even known were possible.

I had been awfully smug the first two weeks because Gabby hadn't even been allowed to start lessons. Missouri said she needed to check all that anger before she started building up psychic strength. While I was learning how to put up walls around my thoughts and how to break down other peoples' walls, Gabby was sitting cross-legged doing breathing exercises or something else 'just as stupid'.

Gabby really resented being left out, but Missouri basically told her to get over it. I had to admit that she became a more amiable person once she started looking at things rationally and unemotionally.

"You're like a hurricane," Missouri had said to her when we first started, "A little hot air, and you're all worked up into a whirlwind of rain and wind and wrath. You need to be less destructive."

I had a two and a half week head start on Gabby when it came to training, but she came back with a vengeance. She worked twice as hard as I did to try and catch up. Naturally, it became a competition. Who could read minds the quickest? Who could lift the heaviest object with their mind? Who could read objects the most thoroughly? Who could track the furthest and the fastest? Every day was the psychic Olympics at Missouri's.

She tried a million times to tell us not to push ourselves too hard, but we never listened. There was barely a day that went by in the past few weeks that one of us didn't have a nosebleed or a migraine. Gabby actually passed out a few days ago trying to lift a giant boulder at the park, so we've been trying to tone it down.

We honestly haven't been staying at Missouri's for very long, but we've made incredible strides in our abilities. In just a few weeks' time, we've learned the ins-and-outs of the whole business. We also learned that each of us is better at different things. Gabby can read minds in a snap, but I have more trouble. I can retrace her exact steps through a whole day she's spent away from me just by touching something she touched before she left, but she can only get vague notions on me.

All of the competition, strength-building, and deep-breathing brought us right to Missouri's flower garden, where Gabby is shaking her head at me and smiling. Her nose and ears are red with cold, and her gloves are stained with dirt and grass, but she hasn't complained. My whole face felt chapped and raw, and I could barely feel my fingers through the gloves so I know she must've been uncomfortable. I know I've been huffing and puffing the entire time, but I can't help it. It's boring. I wasn't made for manual labor.

"We're about done. How about you go inside and take a nap?" she offered silently. I was hoping to break her down using my inner monologue, and I guess it worked.

"That sounds wonderful." I thought back, sighing audibly in relief. I left her to her own devices and went inside. I took off my jacket and toed out of my shoes while relishing the heat coming out of the radiators. I decided to try and sleep on the couch because walking upstairs was way too much work.

I laid there for a while before I slipped off to sleep. I couldn't get my mind to stop buzzing. When sleep did come, my dreams were bizarre. I was at a carnival with my family, but I couldn't speak. I kept trying to shout out to them not to ride the Ferris wheel because it wasn't safe, but nothing came out. I was mute and useless, and they were going to die all over again. But then the dream changed. There were two boys: one was tall, outrageously tall, with goofy looking hair and soft eyes. The other was a well built, wearing a too-big leather jacket and a too-serious look on his face. Family? Brothers.

Missouri was in there too, whispering some nonsense about demons and monsters and destiny to a man who doesn't want to believe it. There's a God-awful bell sounding somewhere. Is that a doorbell? There's a beautiful blonde woman there too, but she's dead. She's burning, but there's nothing I can do. I can feel the warmth of the flames on my face. I can feel-.

"Abby!" Gabrielle called me into consciousness. I sat up too quickly. My heart was racing, my chest was heaving, and my face still felt hot. I felt like I was going to cry.

"Missouri has company. If you want to sleep you should go upstairs," she said while hauling me to my feet. There was a man standing in the doorway. He was tall, white, middle-aged, and rather grizzly in appearance. I recognized him as the man from my dream. Except now I know it wasn't a dream. He had to have been a hunter, unless I was reading someone else's mind in my sleep. The flannel was a dead giveaway too.

I nodded mutely and snatched my blanket up from the couch. I mumbled out something like an apology, and Gabby gave me a weird look.

"Abby and Gabby? You two twins?" the man asked in an amused tone.

"No," Gabby said with a laugh. "But we get that a lot."

"What are you two doing staying with Missouri? I can't imagine you're distant relatives."

"We were in a tight spot, and she was kind enough to help us out," Gabby replied vaguely. I wanted to slink off into another room, but his eyes were on me every other second. Maybe he expected me to speak or show signs of life. That wasn't about to happen.

"Abigail, this is John Winchester. Mr. Winchester, this is our resident narcoleptic. Missouri just went up to the store really quick. She should be back any second. I guess you can wait wherever," Gabby offered, gesturing around herself rather lamely. He nodded in his amused, knowing way and sat down on the vacated couch. Gabby and I retreated to the kitchen, but on the way there I decided to pick his brain a bit. It wouldn't hurt to just see what's on his mind.

"…weird…not like her to take in strangers...trying not to be seen…" were the vague thoughts I snatched up along with a few images: a plain looking house with a big tree in the front yard, a younger, more grave looking Missouri, and the face of a miserable young man. Not John, but a brother maybe? Son. It was his son.

"Whatever happened to privacy?" Gabby projected to me and raised her eyebrows.

"Oh please, you probably already know his favorite food and social security number."

"Hardly, but I'll take that as a compliment."

"What do you suppose he's here for? It's definitely not for a reading…" I wondered. It wasn't necessarily directed towards anybody, but Gabby just shrugged.

"I guess we'll find out."

After about an hour, and three or four strained attempts at hospitality, we spotted Missouri's car returning from the store. Gabrielle and I went outside to help here bring stuff inside with a feeling of relief. It was always awkward when clients or friends came over when she wasn't around.

"Thank you girls, that's awfully kind of…John Winchester is sitting in my living room?" Missouri had started out sweet and ended in a rather harsh tone.

"Y-yes. He said he was a friend of yours. His head checked out," Gabby replied hesitantly.

"Goodness gracious, I haven't seen John in years. I thought he might've died." Missouri shook her head as she handed us her heavier grocery bags. "And took those boys down with him…" she thought sadly.

"He seemed decent to me. I wouldn't have let him in otherwise," Gabby mumbled.

"I know, dear. Get all these groceries inside. I'm going to go see what that devil wants." Missouri patted her back and left us. We gathered up the groceries and went inside. There was no telling how long Missouri would be, so Gabby and I decided to put them away, too. There was an unspoken agreement between us to make as little noise as possible so we could eavesdrop. It was so hard to hear them from down the hall that we barely caught the gist of the conversation.

"…the old house…don't know how they found out so fast…can't let them know I'm here…" John's whispers drifted out from the living room.

"…I haven't felt anything strange around there recently…so that's what you came here for…can't hide forever, sweetheart..." Missouri's voice was louder than his, and it was dripping with sass and something akin to pity.

I could almost smell his guilt and fear from where I stood while putting Cheerios into one of Missouri's cabinets. What could he be hiding? Who was he hiding from? I really hoped Missouri would do some explaining soon.

"Curiosity killed the cat you know," Gabby said rather condescendingly and startled me, "Where does she keep the soup anyway?"

"They go into the cabinet under the silverware drawer." I replied begrudgingly. We put the rest of the groceries up in a pregnant silence. They were a little too quiet down the hall, so I reached out with my mind. Missouri must have put some walls up because I couldn't hear a thing, verbal or mental, from the room they were sitting in.

I couldn't help but wonder what they had to hide. I looked at Gabby, but she just shrugged.

"Oof," the air rushed out of my lungs as Gabrielle swept my legs out from under me. We gave up trying to spy on Missouri's visitor and went out back to spar a little. The frozen winter ground was merciless on my back, and I'm sure there were grass and dirt stains all over my jacket.

"Come on, get up," Gabby said, hopping from foot to foot in anticipation.

"No, no. It feels like you damaged some sort of important vertebrate. I think I'll just lay here for a minute," I gasped out. She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"I don't think you can be that sarcastic with a broken back, Abby."

"I think you underestimate my power," I grunted as I got to my feet. I dodged a quick one-two that Gabby aimed at my face.

"Can you not?" I said in a thoroughly annoyed tone, but she just shrugged and smiled.

"I'm just trying to keep you on your toes. You're so lazy," she said as she eyed me, brushing the dead grass from my jacket. It was my turn to roll my eyes, but I was cut off from a witty remark by Missouri's entrance outside.

"Would you two quit trying to kill each other and get in here? We've got some stuff we need to talk about," she called out to us.

"Oh, so now we're allowed in on the top secret meeting?" Gabby thought to herself.

"Don't get smart with me, girl. This is important," Missouri quipped. She was holding something in her hand that she was waving threateningly. Once we got close enough, I could see that it was a wooden spoon. Gabby watched it cautiously as we walked in through the back door.

John was sitting on the couch smiling quietly at Missouri's mother-hen behavior. I wanted to reach out and see what was going through his head, but I didn't want to risk Missouri getting pissed. She could sense my apprehension of course.

"No more secrets; they wear me out. It's time we get some things straight," she said, straight to the point as usual.

"John here is a hunter, and he's after the monster that killed his wife. I helped him out years ago when it first happened. I told him the whole, ugly truth the same way that Bobby told you. He's been after this thing for almost thirty years, and he's closing in on it. He asked if he could stay here to hide out for a while, and I said yes. There are a few conditions. Under no circumstances whatsoever are you to mention that he's here." Gabby and I shared a confused look. That wasn't exactly what I was expecting.

"I don't care who's asking, and I don't care what they say. I don't care if it's his mother, brother, father, sister, son, or daughter that comes to the door. This whole thing is bigger than you, bigger than me, and definitely none of your business," she continued and waved a finger at us. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes ma'am," we muttered in unison.

"Good," she smiled. "Now you two can run off and get all black and blue if you want to. Dinner is at 7." Without another word or backward glance, she returned to the kitchen. So now it was just John, Gabby, and me, and I was so uncomfortable.

"You want to go back outside?" Gabby asked a little too eagerly. I rolled my eyes and plopped down on the couch.

"Alright, fine, but I won right?" she continued with a smile and her eyebrows raised. I picked up whatever book was on the coffee table and started reading. It was the bible. Shit. Whatever, maybe it would be an interesting read.

"I won," she said smugly, and then left the room with one fist in the air.

"Where are you going?" I thought to her. I didn't want to be alone in here with him.

"Winner needs a victory snack," she replied with exaggerated cockiness. I huffed but continued reading. Genesis always bored me so I just skipped to the good stuff: Revelations. There's nothing like a little fire and brimstone.

I got through a good portion of it, even with Gabby sitting on the arm of the couch and peaking over my shoulder. She kept sighing dramatically to try and get my attention so I pinched the soft underside of her arm. She shut up after that.

Dinner was awkward. Missouri and Gabby and John made small talk for a while before they launched into Our story. I asked if we could not talk about it while I'm eating, but the truth is that I didn't want to talk about it at all. Gabby ignored my request like I expected her to. She kept the story short and didn't give away too many details, but I still hated it. I half-expected John to tell us his story in return, but all he offered was condolences for our families.

There were a lot of images I picked up and a lot of private thoughts I walked in on while he was listening to Gabby prattle about our sob story. I saw his late wife burning on the ceiling and his two sons in a myriad of different motel rooms. I saw the monsters he'd hunted and the mistakes he'd made looking for this thing, this demon. I already knew his story, but it still bothered me that he hadn't actually told me a word of it. It bothered me that he didn't trust us. I guess that's just part of the trade though. It seemed like the only things you need to be a hunter are secrets and flannel. Gabby did a spit-take when I reached that part of my inner monologue.

"Alright you two, we need to talk." Missouri confronted me and Gabrielle after dinner. I couldn't imagine what we might have done wrong, but I hoped she didn't believe in corporal punishment.

"We're all ears, Missouri. Is it about John?" Gabby asked cautiously.

"No, honey, it's about the both of you," Missouri replied soothingly. "I got something in the mail today from Bobby." She handed me a manila envelope, and I knew what was in it before I broke the seal: leads. I could see Bobby writing out notes and clipping newspapers as I fumbled to open the package.

"Are these…?" Gabby whispered. I could feel the anticipation coiling in her gut as she read the documents over my shoulder.

"They sure are," Missouri assured her. "I know that leads don't stay fresh for long, and I think you're both ready. There's still a lot of room for improvement for the two of you, but there isn't much more I can actually teach you."

I wasn't honestly sure if I believed her. We were still so young and inexperienced. I could feel how excited Gabby was; her stomach was churning with all that naïve eagerness and vengefulness she'd carried around with her for her whole life. One way or another, I wanted these bastards dead, but I was scared of dying myself.

"Great! When can we leave?" Gabby beamed.

"You act like I'm keeping you here against your will. You're both grown enough to decide for yourself what to do with your lives." Missouri shook her head.

"How about we head out the day after tomorrow?" Gabby asked me as if I had a chance at talking her out of anything once she put her mind to it. I nodded and tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace.

"How about you try not to look so chipper while you're talking about killing things, Gabby? It's slightly unsettling." Missouri chided and sat down on the couch. The look on her face didn't portray a whole lot of confidence in us, but there was no going back now. How could we, when we're so close?

"Right, sorry," Gabby said and tried to make her expression more neutral. "Well, I guess this means that we need to do some shopping and packing then, huh? We need to stock up on salt and ammunition and probably long-john's too because some of these leads are in pretty cold areas. I wonder if we'll be able to fit it all in the car, even with all the changes we made to it."

"It's already late. We can start first thing tomorrow," I yawned and stretched out my arms. Gabby rolled her eyes, but she stopped rambling, and that's the only thing that mattered right now.

"Yes, we're starting first thing. That means no sleeping in, Abigail. We have a lot of work to do if we want to keep up with these tips," she quipped. I nodded in a rather resigned sort of way, thanked Missouri, and slipped off to bed.

It was a while before Gabby came up to bed, and her mind was whirling with stories John had told her about hunts he'd been on and the details Bobby had given us on our own vamp mission. She took her sweet time getting ready for bed as always. I'd never met another person, girl or boy, who spent as much time getting ready for bed as they did getting ready in the morning.

After her teeth-brushing, face-washing, and general maintenance was done, she got into the bed next to me. For what felt like an eternity, we laid there together. I was almost convinced she had fallen asleep before I heard, "I'm scared too you know."

It was barely a whisper, but I still caught it. My hand snaked under the sheets until it found hers, and I gave her fingers a tight squeeze.

"No matter what happens, we're in this together," I thought reassuringly. She squeezed my hand back.

"I know," she thought back. Without another word or thought, she settled into the bed as best she could, and we slowly drifted off to sleep. Maybe if it was two normal girls, they would have had a heart-to-heart. Maybe they would've needed more support and comfort and made promises they couldn't keep. Maybe they would've cried in relief or fear, but we've never been normal girls. That brief exchange was all that was necessary.

Around noon the next day, Gabby and I were taking a break from packing. I ushered a few clients into Missouri's reading room and was currently reading the packet that Bobby sent us whilst Gabby was throwing peanut M &M's into the air and trying to catch them with her mouth. She wasn't very good at it. The individual pieces kept bouncing off of her cheeks and chin and clattering to the floor. Sometimes she didn't get it anywhere near her head.

"I hope you're going to clean those up," I muttered after about five minutes. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the papers.

"Duh," she said after she finished chewing the ones she had actually gotten into her mouth. I gave her my best leveling look, which she countered by 'accidentally' throwing one of the M&M's at my head once I had turned back to the papers.

"Don't encourage her by reacting," I thought to myself. I was one hundred percent certain she was about to throw another one at me when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," I thought to her. I begrudgingly got out of my chair, walked up to front door, and checked out of the peep hole. I'm not sure who I was expecting, but this wasn't it. I knew from the minute I saw that they were John's boys. I heard the soft creak of the couch as Gabby headed upstairs to tip him off.

"…been so long since he's been here…might not even remember…" The shorter one was doubtful and even belligerent.

"There has to be some sort of lead here. She's psychic; she has to know something." The taller of the two had thoughts that were loud and clear and, admittedly, tinged with desperation.

"Can I help you?" I asked once I had opened the door.

"Hi, I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam. We were looking to get a reading done," the shorter one said, looking inside through the doorway in confusion. "…too young to be the right girl...little old to be living at home still…"

"Is your mom home?" he asked, still scanning the front hall and parlor.

"Do you have an appointment?" It was my turn to be belligerent. They both shook their heads.

"We literally just read about this place fifteen minutes ago. We think Missouri might be able to help us out. It's important." Sam said, hands on his hips.

"C'mon," I beckoned them inside, "It'll have to wait until she's done with the reading she's working on right now." They followed me into the sitting room where Gabby had resumed her former activity.

"You know, I think the point of that game is to get those in your mouth," I sighed as another M&M rolled into a dusty corner of the room.

"You think this is a game?" Gabby deadpanned. We both stared at each other for a moment in fake consternation, but she was the first one to crack a smile. I couldn't help but laugh too. Fortunately, she put down the bag of chocolates after that. Unfortunately, it was only to try to make conversation.

"Who are these fine gentlemen?" she asked, addressing them more than me.

"I'm Sam, and this is Dean."

"I'm Gabrielle, and this is Abigail. I doubt she bothered with introductions," Gabby chided while I started picking up the forgotten M&M's. Missouri would have her head if she came out here and found these.

"Abby and Gabby? No offense, but that sounds kind of like a cheap porno." Dean smiled at his own joke. Sam's face went from a welcoming smile to a look of disdain and reproach in less than a nanosecond as he turned to look at his brother.

"What an astute observation." I thought, rolling my eyes.

"We get that a lot," Gabby admitted. She wasn't exactly amused either.

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence while I was cleaning up Gabby's mess and Sam was huffing at his brother.

"Alright then," Missouri reassured her client, patting him on the back as she walked him to the door, "Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you."

He mumbled out his thanks and left. When she closed the door, Missouri dropped the act.

"Poor bastard! His woman is cold bangin' the gardener."

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked. He seemed torn between amused and confused.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news." Sam and Dean looked at each other, officially confused.

"Well, Sam and Dean, come on already. I ain't got all day." She motioned for them to follow her into her reading room. They both got up quickly. Sam had to duck under the beads she had in the doorway. Gabby and I snickered at their cluelessness while their thoughts came streaming in.

"…goofy looking kid?...I haven't met a girl I couldn't get to fall in love with me…who does she think she is?" Dean thought to himself while Sam chuckled.

"Think we should give them some privacy?" I asked Gabby silently. It was more of a suggestion than an actual question, but she shot me a wicked grin and shook her head.

"We have packing to do, 007," I thought as I headed up the stairs. She followed me in a few minutes and gave me the details on the conversation. They are looking for their Dad, no shocker there, and they think that there is something supernatural in their old house. She also found out that Sam's late girlfriend died the same way their mom had: burning on the ceiling.

I could feel the furrow deepening in my brow as she relayed all the information. I couldn't imagine having two people you love killed in such a violent and unusual fashion. What kind of monster waits decades before it strikes a family again? Something was awfully suspicious about all of this.

Gabby and I finished our preparations in silence for an hour or two. She was cleaning the few guns we had and packing them away, and I was taking inventory of everything and making sure it was organized. I don't mind clutter, but right now I mean business. There isn't a whole lot of room for error.

"Where are we going to get Dead Man's Blood?" Gabby asked the question that had been plaguing me for a while now. I shrugged. I was honestly at a complete loss. Were we supposed to rob a funeral home? A hospital? An armored Red Cross truck?

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," I thought noncommittally. My answer didn't seem to satisfy her, but she moved on to packing our clothes none the less.

Around ten o'clock the next day the car was packed and ready to go, and so were we. Missouri was insisting we take some several containers of homemade casserole and large jugs of water with us while John watched amusedly from the couch.

"Don't give me that look, Abigail. I'll smack you all six ways to Sunday," Missouri threatened. Gabby chuckled under her breath, so I gave her a nasty look.

"I'm not afraid to hit you too, Gabby. Now go make sure you grabbed everything while I put this stuff in the car."

Missouri was still fiddling around in the trunk when we both met up again in the sitting room.

"Find anything?" Gabby asked as I was coming back down the stairs. I shook my head. "Yeah, me neither. I guess it's time to go then."

She was all smiles and nerves, and I wished I could work myself up to be that excited. I was more scared than anything. Gabby gave me a reassuring look before John cleared his throat to get our attention.

"I wanted to thank you two for keeping my being here a secret," he said as he stood up, "So, I got you a little something." He pulled a mason jar from beside the couch, and my stomach lurched.

"Is that jam? Is this some sort of Midwestern custom?" Gabby thought.

"That's blood. That's Dead Man's Blood," I thought back. Her discomfort wasn't quite as intense as mine.

"I heard you two talking…well, I heard Gabby talking, and I figured this would help you out. Don't tell Missouri. If she doesn't already know, she'll be upset when she finds out where I got it from." He laughed quietly as he handed Gabby the jar. She slipped it into one of our bags before Missouri could walk in and catch us with it.

"Thanks," Gabby beamed, and I mumbled out something about my own gratitude.

"No problem, kid," John said as he shook her hand. "And you too, Silent Bob." I eyed his hand before I actually shook it.

He meandered off to some other area of the house while we lugged the rest of our things to the car. Missouri was standing there looking at us with a sort of sad pride.

"Don't go off getting yourselves killed," she chided.

"We won't," Gabby and I said in unison.

"Don't be afraid to come visit me either, you hear?"

"We'll come back and visit, don't worry." Gabby gave her a hug before opening the door and settling into the driver's seat.

"Thank you," I began. "…for everything." I finished rather lamely, but she smiled at me anyway. She smoothed down my hair and gave me a pat on the cheek. I squeezed her hand before opening my door and sliding into the car.

Gabby started the car and drove off. I could see Missouri in the side view mirror. I could just barely make out her shaking her head before she turned to go back inside. She was almost to her front door when we turned the corner, and then she was lost from my view.

"So where are we heading first?" Gabby screamed over the radio, turning away from the road for a second to look at me.

"East. Sheboygan, Wisconsin." I replied.