Disclaimer: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show or the Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 12/20/08. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice." This story takes place a little over ten years in the future after the events of "Sacrifice," and has the same characters from the first trilogy.

Abby anxiously tapped her fingers on the kitchen table, waiting for Dean's return home from work. She glanced up at the clock above the stove. It wouldn't be too long.

"You ok, Ma," Dylan asked, staring at her with concern across the table as he worked on his math homework.

"Fine," she muttered, sipping her coffee.

"Maybe you should lay off the java. You're really jittery," he joked, trying to make her feel better. He always did his best to cheer her up when she was down. Much like Dean, Dylan had the unique ability to read people. She often wondered if it was just human instinct or a genetic gift from his father.

"Well," she sighed, giving in, "it's your sister."

Dylan shut his arithmetic book, focusing his attention on his mother.

"Is she ok," he inquired.

"Should she be," she asked.

"I think so, why do ya ask, Mom?"

She was about to start when Dean walked through the front door.

"Hey babe," he said with a smiled, setting his bag down at the door. She didn't smile back. "Uhoh…what did I do?"

"It's not you this time…"

"Dylan," he questioned, pointing at his son with a surprised look on his face. Dylan was not a trouble maker. In fact, he had never been in trouble at school; period. He always made the honors list and was an all around great kid.

"No, it's your daughter."

"April," his eyes widened.

"You have another one," Abby replied with deep sarcasm. Dylan chuckled.

"Ok," Dean said, taking a seat at the table with his family. "So, what's the news?"

Abby started by recalling the first significant event of her day. She received a phone call from the secretary at Dylan and April's school.

"Hello, Mrs. Winchester," a female asked over the line.

"Yes, this is she."

"Hello. I'm Mrs. Flannigan from the high school. I was just calling to check in on April. Just wanted to know how she's doing. We're all praying for her."

"Is something wrong," Abby gasped, her mind racing. April was supposed to be on a class trip.

"Well, she gave us your note saying she had to get medical treatment for her illness and wouldn't be in for four days," the secretary said the skepticism. She probably thought Abby was a very insensitive, uneducated fool. Problem was, Abby didn't write a letter and April wasn't sick. The kid was never ill; she was always as healthy as a horse.

She thought back to a week before. April finally started coming downstairs again, joining in with the rest of the family. She had approached Abby with a signed, official-looking letter from the school, announcing a trip for the history class. Skeptical, Abby questioned the trip to famous sites of American Revolution battles, but April reassured her by presenting a website with all the information on the company and the school sponsorship.

Dylan laughed..

"What's so funny," she cut.

"You do know she's taking web design in school, right? She probably just made that whole website up!"

"So, question is," Dean started, "where is she? Is she answering her phone?"

"No, Dean, she's not. I have no idea where she is. I'm so…pissed off. She lied to our faces, created an elaborate scheme, forged our signatures on her note….and for what?!"

"I have no idea, Ab," he said, turning towards Dylan. "So, you don't know anything, son?"

"No, Dad, I swear. If I did know something, I'd tell you. I'm worried about her too. I'm gonna go upstairs and try to get her on my cellphone. Maybe she'll pick up for me?" With that, Dylan pushed out his chair and headed up to his room.

"At least we have one good kid," Abby mumbled.

"Hey, it's not like April isn't good. She's always been a little nutty, ya know? She takes after the crazy parts of both of us…only combined," Dean smirked.

"That's what bothers me."

"Listen, Ab, Sam called earlier. There's this case in Providence, Rhode Island that he wants to look at. Looks like a shifter. So, we're leavin'…tonight," he said as her eyes slit and she was going to interrupt. "Hold up, I know what you're gonna say but, I'm going. You stay here and listen for her. I'll try to get any clues I can get while we're out. If you hear from her, I'll turn right around and be back here, ok?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. He was going to go either way. And, it wasn't like hunting was an everyday occurrence anymore. Dean walked over to her, picking her up and holding her tight.

"She'll come home, Ab."

"That's not what I'm worried about, Dean. I don't think she ran away. I'm scared that she got herself into something she can't get out of…or she's lyin' in a ditch somewhere," she whispered close to tears.

"I'll find her," he said, setting her down before going upstairs to change and pack for his trip.

Dean took in a deep, nervous breathe as he entered the house. Abby was curled up on the recliner by the front door sleeping but jostled awake at the sound of his keys.

"Hey, babe," he whispered. "Sorry to wake you."

"S'okay," she answered with a yawn, "I didn't want to fall asleep anyway. How was the hunt?"

"Good," he said, dropping his duffel down by the door. "Typical shifter. Gone now." She got up from the chair and stretched, moving towards her husband. He wrapped his arms around her, happy to be home again. Dean knew she was always incredibly nervous when he hunted now. He rubbed her lower back and kissed her on the forehead, pleased to feel her smile against his chest. But, then he remembered what he had to tell her.

"Hey," he said, pulling her back to look at her. " We need to talk."

"About?"

"April."

"Is she ok," Abby started, panicked.

"She's alive but...you might wanna sit down for this, ok?"

"Dean, what's wrong?!"

"Just sit. I know how you get," he sighed. She did reluctantly, taking a seat on the same recliner as before. Dean didn't know how to break it to her. What he had found out had taken him by surprise and had cut him to the core.

He told her about how he and Sam had stopped by Jo's Roadhouse on the way back from Rhode Island. It was similair to Ellen's place, or what it had been before the fire. There were hunters around, takikng a break between endless jobs. Dean was only glad that wasn't his whole life anymore. Jo had given them drinks on the house and mentioned that April had stopped in a day before.

"April was here," Dean asked Jo.

"Yeah. She was in town working on the whole vampire thing. Didn't you know? She said you gave her the case."

His heart sank and he could feel Sam staring daggers into him. No one, not even Sam, wanted the kids to have that kinda life. Dean told Jo that he didn't know anything about it, and explained the real situation to Jo.

"Are you sure she's out there working a vampire case," Dean asked Jo. She said yes and that April knew a hell of a lot about hunting. Dean couldn't even guess where she had gotten the info. Abby, Sam and himself and done their damnedest to keep that information private. Jo went on to tell Dean that at first she thought it was a joke. So, she tested her, asking her questions any hunter should know. The girl knew all the answers.

"Dean, how could she know all of that," Sam asked. Unfortunately, Dean was fucking clueless. At first he thought maybe she had found his dads journal, but Sam reminded him that it was in his care. It was just another extra step they had taken to make sure the kids were unaware of their real life.

Dean stood in front of Abby, pausing in his story. She was tense, gripping the arms of the chair, the slight cracking of wood splintering in her grasp.

"Abby, talk to me. What are you thinkin," he asked, hands in his pockets. She remained silent, until her resolve faltered, her head going into her hands.

"How...how could she know...," she sobbed. "We did our best to hide this for YEARS, Dean. What the hell changed in the last month?! She went from being a happy little girl to locking herself up in her room."

The sound of a car pulling up took them out of the moment. Dean moved the curtains back and peered out the window. It was the familiar red Mustang. His mind was filled with both relief and nervousness; he was happy to have her home but too anxious to confront her. A slight growl sounded across from him.

"Ab, I want you to sit down at all times, ok," he pleaded. He knew how she could get when she was that pissed.

"How can you be so calm?!"

"I had about a thousand miles to chew on this, babe. When I found out at the roadhouse, I put a crack in my beer bottle. I stewed over this for hours driving. I'm not over it, not in the slightest. I just wanna know what the hell she was thinking...especially about goin' out there alone. And, I wanna know why she lied. That's all."

Abby nodded, agreeing to keep her seat. The keys jingled and April entered the house, her overnight bag in hand.

"Hey guys, I'm home," she beamed. Dean remained silent, crossing his arms over his chest, unbelievably angry with his daughter.

"Have a seat, kid. We need to talk. Now."