Bad Company

by LorettyLauren93

Abigail Colt, descendant of Samuel Colt, is proven as an asset to the hunting world. At the age of 14, she lost her family to a demon, shortly being taken in by John Winchester as a final wish by her father. Throughout the years, Abigail has lived, loved, & hunted alongside his sons, Sam and Dean. Rated M. Read&Review! Image found on Tumblr, credit to the maker.

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!

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Outdoor Café

Cedar Rapids, Iowa

96 miles or so outside of Ankeny, Iowa

March 18th, 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, If 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