Strike Back

by LorettyLauren93

"I could always shoot you. " The demon smirked, "You could always miss." He let out a taunting laugh, "And you've only got one try, dontcha? Did you really think you could trap me?" Dean/OC-Abigail. Sequel to Bad Company. Rated M. See first chapter for more info. Any comments/reviews appreciated.

10. No Exit

NICU—Day

Since we had made it back to Sioux Falls from the Roadhouse, Dean had decided to stay over at the NICU, insisting that Sam and I needed rest and wind down from our escapade with the late Weber. Yet, here we were, scrubbing our hands in almost scalding hot water.

"You heard Dean, Abs," Sam said as he bent over in the sink to rinse off the suds that reached up to his elbows, "We need to rest. You and I both know that you aren't—"

"What I need to do, Sammy, is see my daughter." I muttered, watching as a nurse walked by us. Glancing over my shoulder, I winced, resuming rinsing my arms off, "We've had it rough the past week. Yeah, I get that." Flicking my hands to rid them of water as I reached over to the paper towels, I grabbed handfuls to wipe them dry, "But that doesn't mean I get to throw mine and Dean's kid off on him while I sit with my thumb up my ass. We've got nada, so therefore," I threw the wad of paper towels in the garbage bin nearby, "We can do that here."

Sam wiped his arms and hands off with a weary nod, "Yeah, you gotta point." The yawn he possessed was evident he was exhausted still, making me pause.

"Sam, you didn't have to come with me." I told him gently, "You're still tired."

"You're still sore," he countered with a jerk of his chin to my shoulder. I smiled at him, nodding, "So, with this…new ability," Sam began to say slowly, as if searching for the right words, I paused.

"Yeah?"

His lips formed a thin line out of deep thought, "How do you stay sane with all of these emotions hitting you all at once?"

I shrugged with my good shoulder, "I deal with it." Sam's brows rose.

"Is that all?" He asked, "You-you just deal with it?"

"Yeah, pretty much." I replied, "Roll with the punches." We started down the hall, passing a room or so, "I mean, it gets rougher the more densely populated an area is—like Sioux Falls, and it gets harder bein' in here." My mouth fell into that of a half-frown, "Some days are like, sittin' in a classroom with the loudest, most annoyin' kids you can find. Then some days are like sittin' in a classroom full of old people, and a handful of kids." I paused again, outside Megan's room, glancing over to the door. The shades were down and lights were off. "And some days, I wonder how I'm not sendin' a bullet through my head."

I felt a flare of disapproval in the pit of my stomach. "So is that why there's an empty bottle of Vicodin in your bag?"

My heart sunk, "How'd you-?"

Sam shook his head, glancing around, "It fell out when I got your bag out of the car." I looked down to the floor in front of me, unable to speak for I was too ashamed that I had been so careless, "Abigail…are you using again?"

I worked my jaw oddly, avoiding my not-so-little brother's gaze, "I'd like to think not, but I know better."

There was another flare of disapproval, then the sinking feeling of disappointment, "Why—how?" Sam fumbled around his words, unable to form legitimate sentences, "What's in God's name possessed you to do that?"

"Everythin'." I muttered, "Dad dyin', Dean and I fightin', breakin' up…Megan bein' in the hospital, and this?" I finally looked up at Sam, seeing how distraught he was and how angry he was with me, "Sammy, how am I s'posed to deal with that in a healthy way?"

He scoffed, "Uh, you could talk, but you and Dean are so much alike—it's uncanny, really."

"Absent the Vicodin."

"Yeah, absent the Vicodin." Sam, more or less, spat out, "Abigail, how stupid can you be for relapsing? Does Dean know?"

I shook my head vigorously, eyes wide as if I saw a spider the size of Sam's head crawl by, "No. Hell no." I told him firmly, "If he found out…I don't know how he'd take it, to be truthful." Sam rolled his eyes up to the ceiling with a cynical smile, "Sammy, listen to me." I spoke lightly in fear of Dean overhearing in the room, "I know you're pissed, I know. You gotta believe me when I say that I haven't used in a week—not since Dean and I split up."

Sam's eyes fell back onto me, caution laced in them from underneath the cover of his shaggy hair, "So you quit?"

I nodded, "Yeah. Exactly. I tossed them down the toilet the second night I was away. Sammy, I couldn't go back down that road again—not with Megan needin' me." He let out another scoff, "I know I skipped out on you and Dean. I'm not gonna live that down, not for a while. You're mad at me for doin' that, I understand."

"We needed you, Abigail." He muttered, "I needed you."

I frowned, "I shoulda been there when you had that premonition, Sammy. But I can't change that. I'm here now, and I don't plan on leavin' again."

"Why did you start using again?" Sam asked in a quiet voice, his puppy dog look in full-effect.

"This new ability, bein' an empath or whatever," My hands made a circle to elaborate my words, "It's a whole new level of hysteria, Sam. Nothin' I ever experienced. I needed to drown it out, and Vicodin was all I had. Bein' drunk would've been too obvious." I pointed out, "Sam, I'm not gonna use it again. If I can go a week without it, then I'm sure I've got this."

Sam fell silent. Too silent for my liking.

"Fine." He said, "But if you feel like it's getting too much, you talk. Talk to me, talk to Dean. Don't let this happen again, or I swear to you, Abs—"

"I know, I know." I cut him off, "You'll tell Dean."

He nodded, anger flashing in his eyes, "Exactly."

"I'll talk to you, I'll talk to Dean. "Hell, I'll talk to the Pope if needed." I said, seeing his face fall into a bitchface. My lips tipped up into a Cheshire cat grin, hitting his shoulder as I changed the subject, "C'mon. I want to see my kid."

Walking into the room, Sam and I halted upon seeing Dean fast asleep in the recliner chair. There was a pleasing sense of calm coming from him, finding myself smiling at how he slept. He was slumped in the chair, feet extended out with his arms crossed across his chest. It was almost comical to see him with his head tipped backwards and his mouth gaping open.

It's a wonder he ain't swallowed a fly. I thought, pressing my lips together in order to stifle a laugh. To back it up, I held three fingers against my lips in order to hide my 'possum smile. Despite the confrontation that had just happened between Sam and I, we were both in awe at how peaceful Dean was. It wasn't often we got to see him in such a relaxed state, it seemed to only occur when he was here with Megan. I glanced over to Sam, seeing his lips curved in a small smile before he raised his hand to knock on the door. Stopping him with a gentle touch, he gave me a quizzical look, and I just shook my head.

"Let 'im, sleep." I told him quietly, before walking into the room to peer into the incubator at my daughter. Glancing to the achievement board Ashley and the nurses set up for her, I read off each little thing she had done in our absence. Pride and guilt both flourished in my chest before looking down at the still form of Megan. Pushing my hair out of my face, I watched in silence as her chest rose and fell quickly with each breath, wires and IVs were still littered across her, though she was now dressed in a light pink preemie onesie that said, 'Daddy's Little Girl'. I couldn't help but grin at that.

Sam stood beside me, looking in at her as well, "It's hard to believe how big she is now." He said softly. The corners of my mouth twitched, falling into a small frown, "I mean, a pound and a half?" His shaggy hair swished as he shook his head, some of it falling over his eyes, "Now she's almost four pounds."

"Yeah, you can tell she's a Winchester." I mused, feeling overly guilty about her being born that small. From over where Dean was, we turned over heads upon hearing him jump with a loud breath being blown out.

"Jesus," Dean mumbled out, voice thick from being asleep as he scrubbed his face roughly with a hand. He straightened up in the recliner chair sluggishly, allowing me to move behind Sam, then went over to him with a small grin.

"Hey you." I greeted him.

"Hey you…" His eyes squinted at me then to Sam as he yawned, "When'd you guys get here?"

I shrugged, "A few minutes ago." With a simple nod, Dean stood up with a stretch before wrapping his arms around me in a tight squeeze, burying his face in the crook of my neck. Sam was probably rolling his eyes at us, though from what I felt from him, he was still upset from our argument. Pulling away, Dean reached up to take my face in his hands, placing a gentle kiss on my lips that only lasted a few moments, "How's Megan been?" I asked, after pulling away a smidge.

"Being a trooper." Dean said, "Had a fever of 101.2, but they got it to go back down." He added quickly, "Spitting up a little bit." His eyes went over to watch Sam reach a hand into one of the incubator holes to touch her hands with a smile. Wrapping an arm around me, we both watched him interact with her. He held a childlike wonder every time he was around Megan, and it was always one of my favorite things to watch while we were taking a break from hunting. "Nothing the nurses and doctors couldn't handle." Dean added.

I arched my brow at him, "Shoulda called." I said, seeing him tilt his head.

"Figured you and Sam needed to rest."

"I've rested enough," I gently nudged him in the rib with a playful grin, "besides, if I have to eat another can of Bobby's beans, I'm gonna turn into a blimp." A rumbling sound came from Dean as he chuckled, "You know."

"Oh God, don't remind me. Sam's gonna be strapped to the roof of the car next road trip we're on." He muttered, seeing Sam arch his brow at us. Apparently Sam had heard his brother's quip about his excess gas. Dean just grinned at him like he didn't say anything out of the way about him, hefting his shoulders into an innocent shrug as a good-natured laugh escaped from my mouth. A pile of newspapers on the sink caught my eye.

"You been lookin' for a job?" I queried, nodding my head over to them.

Dean turned slightly to look at the stack of folded up newspapers with numerous circles drawn on obits and headliners, "Yeah, found a few that might be worth lookin' into." We must've stayed in the room for a few more hours before the three of us decided to head to the Roadhouse and check on things.

---

Harvelle's Roadhouse—Day

Getting out of the Impala after a good, long drive with minimal stops, I rested my arms across the roof of the Impala whilst stretching my legs and back.

"I think we should check out Los Angeles, California." I announced.

Sam paused, curious, "What's in L.A.?"

"Young girl's been kidnapped by an evil cult." Dean answered for him, a smirk gracing his visage that I had found that article.

"Yeah? Girl got a name?" Sam asked.

"Katie Holmes." I replied earning a chuckle from Sam.

"That's funny. And for you, so bitchy." I opened my mouth for a comeback, but was interrupted by the sound of shouting voices and breaking glass, "Of course, on the other hand — catfight." Dean looked somewhat intrigued by what must've been going on inside as he wrapped an arm around my waist, leading us into the establishment in a rather cautious state.

Ellen and Jo were on the upper level of the bar, shouting at each other. And did I feel concern, anger, and resentment? Yes. Yes, I did.

"I am your mother, I don't have to be reasonable!" Ellen shouted.

"You can't keep me here!" Jo countered in an overwhelming sense of teenage defiance.

Ellen stalked down from the upper half of the bar towards her daughter, "Oh, don't you bet on that, sweetie."

"What are you going to do? Chain me up in the basement?" Jo snapped.

Ellen's blood pressure was rising as she spoke, along with mine as she scoffed, throwing down a chair as it clattered to the ground, "You know what? You've had worse ideas than that recently." She then lifted her hands up in a defensive manner, "Hey, you don't wanna stay, don't stay. Go back to school."

"I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection!" Jo shrieked out. I threw Dean a pensive look, who returned the same look before glancing over to Sam. He looked back to us with a frown, clearly uncomfortable by the show that was unfolding in front of us. This fight between the two only brought back vivid memories of the knockdown-drag out between Sam and John when he announced he was going to college. That was where he actually felt like he could fit in.

"Yeah, and getting yourself killed on some dusty back road, that's where you belong?!" Ellen shouted, snapping me from my thoughts as she turned around and paused upon seeing us, "Guys, bad time."

Sam nodded, "Yes, ma'am." He agreed for all of us.

Dean laughed uncomfortably, "Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway." I turned, ready to head back out the door. I was already getting uncomfortable from the whirlwind of emotions I was dealing with.

"Wait." I paused, looking over my shoulder to the fuming mother and daughter duo, "I wanna know what they think about this."

Oh shit. The door in front of me opened, causing me to step to the side as a family of four walked in; all wearing bright yellow shirts that read "Nebraska is for Lovers".

However, they paused after Ellen shouted out, "I don't care what they think!"

The father shifted, "Are you guys open?"

There was a curt reply from both women that was a mixture of Jo yelling "No!" and Ellen shouting, "Yes!"

I looked to the family sympathetically, "I think there was an Arby's down the road." I uttered softly to the pregnant mother as she nodded, ushering her husband and children out of the establishment. There wasn't enough time for someone to break the uncomfortable, heavy silence before the landline began ringing. Jo glared at it before glaring at her mother, who then stalked over to answer it.

"Harvelle's." Ellen answered, "Yeah, Preacher."

Jo spun around to face us as her mother had her back turned to us, "Three weeks ago a young girls disappears from a Philadelphia apartment." She shoved a file folder towards Dean, who looked at it uneasily, "Take it, it won't bite.

"No, but your mom might." He said reluctantly, throwing an uneasy look to Ellen. In turn, Jo turned her pinched look towards me, stilling holding out the folder. I raised a brow at how much jealousy and resentment I felt from her as Dean reluctantly took the folder.

"And this girl wasn't the first." She continued as Dean opened the folder and peered down at the image of a smiling blonde, "Over the past eighty years, six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes." Her eyes slid over to me in a pinched looked, "Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or —"

"Who put this together?" I asked, interrupting her, "Ash?"

She smirked, "I did it myself."

Dean let out an impressed hum as he handed the folder over to Sam, "I gotta admit." He said, "We hit the road for a lot less."

"Good." Ellen piped up, "You like the case so much—you take it."

Jo spun around, "Mom!"

"Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough, and I won't lose you too; I just won't." Ellen's tone of voice was stated in a finality that allowed us to take the hint to leave. Tucking the folder under his arm, Sam led us out.

---

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania—Day

Sitting up front between Dean and Sam rendered me a nervous wreck. Philly wasn't the place for me to be at, which led to me to conclusion that Los Angeles would've been a horrible idea. My head was busting from the million or so people relaying their emotions back and forth at an alarming rate. From beside me, Dean would glance every so often as he drove down the street, concern trickling through me out of the million chaotic emotions I was dealing with.

Feelings. Ugh.

"How you holdin' up?" He asked, drawing me out from my messaging sessions.

I threw him a quick, tight-lipped smile, "'s all good."

Judging from the raised brow, he knew I was lying. He just didn't want to call me out on my bluff. Instead of doing that, Dean simply nodded his head, and pulled his right hand off the steering wheel to wrap his arm around me. Pulling me close, he sneaked a quick kiss to my temple in reassurance that I would be alright.

If only he knew.

Parking in front of the apartment building of our proposed case, courtesy of Jo Harvelle, we got out, walking into the building.

"I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case." Sam uttered as we stepped through the doors.

Dean shrugged, "Yeah, maybe she put together a good file."

"But could you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so." I added as we pulled out our individual EMF readers. I smacked mine a couple of times due to it fritzing out on me then caput. I shook my head, irritated, however my spidey-senses were tingling.

"Any of you getting anything?" Dean asked in a low voice.

"No, not yet." Sam answered as I sent Dean an irritated look over my EMF finally crapping out. Tucking mine away, I heard the purr of Sam's, causing me to pause momentarily in the hall as my brother leaned over, "What's that?"

I came up behind him, searching for something, "What?" Jerking his chin to a hole in the wall, I saw what he alerted on. Black goo. An anxious wave seemed to have washed over me when I leaned closer, "Don't tell me that's—"

Sam reached out touching black goo, "Holy crap."

Dean joined us, spotting the goo instantly. Reaching out to touch it, he smeared it on his fingertips, looking equally confused and intrigued as Sam and I, "That's ectoplasm." Great. "Well, Sam. Abs, I think I know what we're dealing with here." I raised a brow along with Sam, waiting for an answer. "It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man."

Sam rolled his eyes while a loud, inappropriate combination of a snort and a laugh escaped me. Clasping my hands over my mouth and nose, Dean's childish grin widened more—even after Sam gave us both a chiding look. "Guys, I've only seen this stuff, like, twice."

"I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit." I noted, seeing Sam nod in agreement. The wheels in Dean's head was turning in deep thought as he stared at the ectoplasm a second longer. With a nod in affirmation, he looked up to Sam, then to me, "Alright, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls."

Nodding, we made our way to leave the apartment and find us a motel room…that was, until we heard a pair of voices. Dean grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me against him as the three of us hid around a corner. As the voices came closer, Dean and I frowned at the woman's voice.

"Jo?" I whispered, feeling almost dumbfounded by the fact that she was here.

"Shouldn't she be at the Roadhouse?" Dean asked, seeing Sam shrug. We were all confused.

"It's so convenient." We heard Jo say.

"Yeah, it's a great building, fixed it up real nice." A man's voice replied, "All the apartments come furnished, too."

"It is so spacious." Jo answered, "You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place."

Dean stepped out from where we were at with a confuse look, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sam and I followed suit as a smile spread across Jo's face, "There you are, honey." She said while grabbing Dean by the waist, "This is my boyfriend Dean and his buddy Sam and his girlfriend, Abigail." I stood gob smacked, mouth hanging open in shock. I glanced to Dean who was standing rigidly beside Jo with his arms still outstretched at a slight angle; eyes bigger than dinner plates.

"Good to meetcha." He said with a chuckle, "Quite a gal you've got here."

Dean finally settled in to the charade with an uneasy laugh, resting his hand on her waist, much to her displeasure, "Oh yeah, she's a pistol."

For a split second, she narrowed her eyes at him, then smiled, "So, did you already check out that apartment?" We were all silent, "The one for rent."

Dean glanced to us then back to Jo, "Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Heh. Great flow."

"How'd you get in?" The landlord asked, obviously confused.

Dean shrugged, arm still around Jo, "It was open."

"Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?"

"Oh, about a month ago." He sounded a little chafed, "Cut and run, too. Stick me for the rent."

Jo laughed, "Well, her loss, our gain!" I frowned at that small little detail. She shouldn't have said anything about the tenant being a 'her'. I watched she looked up at my boyfriend with a starry-eyed expression, "'Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me." She said, earning an uncomfortable look from Dean.

"Oh, sweetie." Dean said in an overly sugary voice that suddenly made my blood boil. Apparently Sam had caught wind of my temper rising and gripped my elbow, throwing me a cautious look.

"We'll take it." Jo said suddenly. Sam and I looked at her with a surprised expression. Without another word, the landlord took the wad of cash Jo held up in front of him and left, leaving us to ourselves. An exceeding amount of cockiness was coming from Jo as she turned around with a smirk tugging at her lips as she held the apartment keys in her hands. Unclenching my hands, Dean stepped away from Jo, quickly falling into place with me.

"You gonna be okay?" I heard Dean whisper in my ear. I glanced up to him with an innocent, yet not-so-innocent look. I shrugged. "You turned at least fifty shades of red. I thought your head was about to explode."

I let out a snort, "I don't know what you're talkin' about."

Dean rolled his eyes, taking me by the waist as we paused behind Sam—Jo was already out the door, thank God—causing him to turn his head to the side out of curiosity at us stopping. His older brother jerked his head to follow Jo, wordlessly telling Sam that we were going to talk. With an understanding nod, Sam exited the building leaving Dean and I behind.

I closed my eyes in an attempt to calm myself down, if anything, sorting out the calmness that was coming from Dean, granted, it was more of smug amusement than anything else. Feeling his lips brush against the side of my neck, I tipped my head to the side with a loud sigh passing through my lips. A chuckle rumbled against my back as his arms wound around me tightly, swaying me back and forth in a reassuring manner, almost shivering when the abrasive scratch of his stubble scraped against my neck.

"I have to say Abs, being jealous is kind of a turn on." I heard him say, eliciting a quick laugh from me.

Turning around in his arms, I looked him in the eyes to see that childlike glint in his hazel eyes, "I am not jealous, Winchester."

He grinned, "Oh really? You looked like you were about to rip Jo's head off."

I scoffed, wrapping my arms around his waist in a possessive manner, "I'm not jealous." I repeated in a haughty manner, "I'm territorial, that's all."

"Oh, territorial?" Dean laughed heartily, "That's a new one." We swayed in the hallway of the apartment with silly little childish grins and giggles, "It's a shame though."

I arched my brow, "What's a shame?"

A flare of mischief blossomed in my stomach, "I had the perfect opportunity to leave a hand print on Jo's ass." He started to laugh after I slapped him on the chest playfully, "What?"

"That's not funny," I stated with a grin that said otherwise.

"Of course it is, I'm hilarious." Dean retorted. I rolled my eyes at him, allowing myself to be pulled closer, if you could even say that, as he kissed me. Touching the sides of his face with just my fingertips, I kissed him back oh so tenderly. As he pulled away, Dean's eyes scanned my face; a whisper of a smile gracing his lips before he kissed me again, this time, deeper. With our tongues caressing each other, a low, rumbling sound resonated from him—a flame igniting in my stomach as the result of this 'infancy of intimacy'.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused Dean to stiffen, agitated almost, making him pull away with closed eyes. Expecting Sam or Jo, we turned seeing nobody, only to turn around the other way to see an old woman standing in the hall with her Yorkie in her arms. Her brows arched at us with an unimpressed expression. That was just a rouse, in reality, from what I sensed, she was amused. I bit my lips, shyly looking away. Dean looked almost embarrassed, offering her a cheeky laugh.

"Oh, uh, sorry." He said sheepishly, taking me by the hand before he led me outside. Glancing behind, I saw the old woman and her dog. She threw me a wink as she walked by, giggling to herself. Gotta love old people, they're a hoot.

"Hey! You guys gonna help, or are you two gonna stand there and look dumb?" Jo's voice called out from across the street. The both of us turned, remembering the task at hand, which instantly cause a flurry of knots to form in my stomach. This was petty.

Throwing Dean a mildly exasperated look caused by Jo's expectant expression, I met his big brother look in play. "Be nice." He told me in a low tone.

I furrowed my brows at him, "I didn't say anythin'."

"I know your looks." He reminded, earning a playful eye roll as we walked across the street to help Jo and Sam carry our equipment in.

---

Apartment—Day

Upon walking into the apartment, Dean, Sam, Jo, and I set our bags down in separate areas of the room we were in.

Jo fixated on Dean with a grin, "I'll flip you for the sofa." She offered.

I rolled my eyes at her, coming close to speaking until Dean spoke, asking, "Does your mother even know you're here?"

"Told her I was going to Vegas." She replied, curtly, folding her arms across her chest.

"You think she's gonna buy that?" Dean asked.

Jo scoffed, "I'm not an idiot. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos."

She's smart, I have to hand it to her. Walking around the room, taking in everything around me, I leaned against the wall, "You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom." Jo and Dean turned to look at me. I saw Dean shoot me a warning glare, however, I fixated on the scornful expression Jo held when I spoke, "Shouldn't be here either."

"Well, I am. So untwist your panties and deal with it." Jo snapped. I blinked at her hostile behavior, more or less ready to come across the room and deal with her myself. As far as I know, I didn't do a damn thing to her.

"Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?" Sam stepped in, eyes flickering over to me, knowing that something was beginning to brew between her and me.

"Working, at the Roadhouse." She said holding her curt tone as she spoke.

"Hunters don't tip that well." Dean pointed out.

"Well, they aren't that good at poker, either." Jo pointed out as well, definitely not missing a beat. She was a quick one alright. We paused upon hearing Dean's cell phone ringing.

Before he could get a 'Yeah' out, Dean blinked a couple of times, "Oh, hi Ellen." Jo stiffened upon hearing her mother's name causing her to storm over to stand in front of Dean, who tightened his jaw, "I'm telling her." He hissed at her before they both had a furious, muttered argument before he straightened up, "I haven't seen her." He blurted out suddenly, then physically grimaced.

I blinked, glancing over to Sam, who held an equally shocked expression as well. Dean's lying to Ellen? Seriously? Does he not know what hell we'll all catch for not letting her know about Jo?

"Yeah, I'm sure." Dean told her, continuing his lie, swallowing hard. "Absolutely." Hanging up the phone, Jo grinned at him cheerfully before she went to sit back down at the table. I shook my head at Dean. This was unbelievable. Yep, there was that little green monster, rearing its ugly head. I was jealous and territorial; a deadly combination if you ask me.

Sometime after we all got settled in, I found myself pacing along the wall, phone plastered to my ear as I spoke to Ashley. I had been speaking to her for the past thirty minutes, oblivious to everything around me. Megan had been spitting up more than usual and was having diarrhea. Anything over her concerned me, which overly concerned Dean—plus he lying to Ellen added onto it. In the kitchen/dinette area, there were blueprints spread out across the table where Jo was sitting, flipping a small knife around.

"This place was built in 1924." She said suddenly, "It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago." I zoned out on what Ashley was saying, focusing on what Jo said.

Dean stopped, coming out from his thoughts, "Yeah? What was here before 1924?"

"Nothing. Empty field." She said, leaning in a chair.

"So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell." Sam summed up, earning a nod from Dean and Jo both while I continued to pace.

"We're going to put her on some fluids, see if that should help her out." Ashley said, causing me to stop listening to the boys and Jo's conversation.

"Okay, uh," I blew out a loud breath, running a hand through my hair, "Just let me or Dean know how she's doin' in a few. I appreciate it, Ash."

"It's fine! I know you and Dean are busy with your jobs," Ashley replied.

"We hate leavin' her all the time," I said, earning an inquisitive look from Dean, Sam, and Jo.

With a shake of her head, Jo resumed talking, "I already checked. In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor." She narrowed her eyes at me, "Would you sit down, please?" I furrowed my brows at her, nonetheless, sitting down on the couch with the phone still plastered to my ear, barely hearing Ashley, "So, have you checked police reports, county death records..."

"Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources." Jo was still twirling that knife around, which was beginning to irritate me, "I know what I'm doing." She told him.

I held my phone against my chest, "I think the jury's still out on that one." I said, staring at the knife with narrowed eyes, "Could you put the knife down?"

With narrowed eyes on me, we held each other's gaze with as much intensity, it could've started a fire halfway across the room. Dean and Sam shifted in their spots, throwing each other awkward looks, "Okay!" Sam said, breaking the tension, "So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it."

I rolled my eyes again, placing the phone next to my ear, "Yeah, I'm sorry, Ash. I got distracted for a second, what was that?"

"I said, if things go good in the next few days, Megan might be able to come home soon." My heart skipped a beat, "I'd say within the next week, week and a half?"

"You're shittin' me." I blurted out, unable to comprehend the good news. Dean and Jo stopped arguing, turning their eyes on me.

"What is it?" Dean asked. I waved my hand at him in a dismissive manner.

"Yeah, she should be good to come home. If we can get everything situated with her fever, spitting up, and diarrhea, that is. If not, then it can extend her stay a little longer." My leg started to bob up and down at a quick pace. It was unbelievable! By this time, Dean had crossed the room to where I was at, staring me down with concern and worry dripping off of him. Where Sam stood, he shifted around, glancing to me and his brother. Jo just watched, not really interested about what was going on.

Concluding my phone call with Ashley I hung up, slinging my phone into the couch. I hid my face in my hands, still trying to process the news. Beside me, the couch sank, feeling a hand find its way to my back.

"Abs, what's going on?" Dean's voice was thick with worry.

"Megan might come home." I said, straightening up. Dean stared at me, unblinking. The wheels in his head was turning as he processed what I said. Sam stood up from the table.

"What?" Dean and Sam asked in chorus.

I started laughing, becoming overly excited, "Megan might be able to come home soon."

Dean blinked, wordlessly pulling me into his arms. Burying his head into the crook of my neck, the warmth I felt from both Sam and Dean drove me to tears. I couldn't believe mine and Dean's daughter was getting ready to come home. All those sleepless nights, aimless walking around with a phone plastered to our ears, and countless nights in a NICU room were going to finally pay off. Dean's arms tightened around me before he moved his hands to my face. Staring into his eyes, tears sparkled like stars in the night sky, then kissed me in front of Jo and Sam.

As we pulled away, all smiles, Dean surveyed my face in search for more answers, "When does she get out?"

"Ashley said a week, week and a half maybe." I answered, "But that's only if they can get her fever and everythin' else calmed down." Dean licked his lips, nodding in understanding, already knowing that our daughter was going through a rough patch lately. It worried him. Hell, it worried me, and I knew it worried Sam.

From across the room, Jo coughed, in an attempt to throw Dean and Sam back on track. She was impatient; which was going to ruin her as a hunter. Well, the little gesture from Jo did get Dean's head back into the game, as well as Sam's. For me? I'd have to admit that it was half-assed.

Dean nodded once more, then stood up, "Alright, so, we're going to run EMF readers to see if we can get a bite." I nodded, standing as well, "Jo's gonna be with me." I blinked at him, possibly turning red with jealousy. Dean saw that, obviously. "Abs, stick with Sam."

Without a word, I nodded, glancing over to see Jo smiling smugly at me. This girl was starting to rub me the wrong way.

---

Dean's POV

Apartment—Later

I knew roaming the hallways with Jo irritated Abigail, but I knew that it was the only way we were going to get anything out of this job. It was obvious that the two of them had some kind of friction that would either make or break the hunt. Having Jo with me rather than Abigail reassured me that nothing was going to happen to Ellen's daughter—I was already going to be in deep shit if and when she found out Jo was with us the whole time. The last thing I needed was for something to happen to her under my watch. As of right now, she was my responsibility.

"So." Jo began, "You gonna buy me dinner?"

I looked up from my EMF reader confused, "What are you talking about?"

"It's just if you're gonna ride me this close it's only decent you buy me dinner." She said.

I snorted, "Oh, that's hilarious." We kept walking down the dimly lit hallway, glancing down to the meter every now and then, "You know, it's bad enough I lied to your mom, but if you think I'm letting you out of my sight... I don't know if you've noticed, but you're kind of the spirit's type."

A knowing smirk graced her face, "Exactly, and so is Abigail."

I blinked at her, stopping briefly, "You wanna be bait?"

"Quickest way to draw it out and you know it." Jo answered.

"Oh." I shook my head, earning a look from her.

"What?"

"I'm so regretting this." I breathed out, seeing a glint of anger in her eyes.

"You know, I've had it up to here with your crap." She said.

"Excuse me?"

"Your chauvinist crap—you think women can't do the job." Jo snapped.

I bit out a laugh, "Sweetheart, this ain't gender studies. Women can do the job fine—take a look at Abs, she's one of the best hunters I know." Her face turned red, "Amateurs can't. You have no experience. What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantics that some barflies put in your head."

"Now you sound like my mother." Jo scoffed out.

"Oh, and that's a bad thing? Because let me tell you..." I shook my head, rethinking what I was going to say. There were a million things I could've ranted and raved about. I mean, she was still young. She still had a chance.

"What?" She implored.

I shook my head again, "Forget it." I muttered, turning my back as I returned to doing the job. That was until she grabbed the back of my arm, stopping me.

"No, you started this."

Letting out a sigh, I glanced up to the roof, "Jo, you've got options. No one in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young... I wish I could do something else, like being the father I want to be to my daughter."

Jo looked me up and down, "You love the job."

"Yeah, but I'm a little twisted." I said.

She smirked, "You don't think I'm a little twisted too?"

"Jo, you've got a mother that worries about you. Who wants something more for you—those are good things." I told her, earning an eye roll from her, "You don't throw things like that away. Might be hard to find later is all I'm sayin'." There wasn't another word spoken between us until I heard Jo gasping out. I turned to look at her, seeing an alarmed expression, "What?"

"I'm not sure." She said.

A vaguely familiar smell filled the air. I sniffed the air a couple of times, "You smell that?"

Jo sniffed the air too, "What is that, a gas leak?"

"No," I said shaking my head, "Something else. I know it. I just can't put my finger on it." Jo crouched by the grating she was standing at; her EMF reader purred to life as she pointed it to the grating. I smirked, "Mazel Tov. You just found your first spirit."

Jo looked up to me, "It's inside the vent."

I crouched beside her, pulling out my flashlight and shined it, handing it over to her, "Here." I then pulled out a screwdriver and started to unscrew the grating, pulling it off the wall. Something inside it caught my attention, "There's something in there." I told her, "Here." Putting my arm into the duct, feeling around for whatever caught my attention. Finding it, I pulled my hand out, holding a clump of blond hair—bloodied. I frowned, showing it to Jo, "Somebody's keeping souvenirs."

This was beginning to form a knot in my stomach. I didn't like this—especially with Jo and Abigail being blondes.

---

Dean's POV

Apartment—Morning

I woke up in a twisted up, very awkward sleep-position in the bed that Abigail and I had acquired. Sirens sounded nearby, causing me to sit up with a grunt, seeing that Abigail wasn't in the bed with me. I scrunched my face at the absence of her, then felt an uneasiness that caused me to get out of bed in a hurried rush. Coming from the bedroom into the kitchen/dinette area, I saw Jo sitting at the table, twirling her knife and studying the notes and blueprints that had remained on the table.

Jo looked up from the table, smiling at me in an amused fashion, "Morning, princess."

My eyes scanned the apartment, "Where's Sam and Abigail?"

She rolled her eyes, "Went to get coffee."

"Ugh. My back—you were better off on the couch." I told her, approaching the table.

"I didn't even sleep on it. Just been going over everything." She said in a bored tone, "Abigail stayed up for a while last night." I nodded, considering something. I then reached for a bag, placing it on the table and pulled out a Bowie knife, unsnapping it from the sheath and handed it to her, hilt-first.

"Here."

Jo stared at the knife for a moment, "What's this for?"

"Works a hell of a lot better than that little pig-sticker you're twirling around." I told her as she took the knife, then handed me over hers. Holding it in my hands, I saw an engraving on the blade: W. A. H. I glanced up to Jo.

"William Anthony Harvelle." She answered.

I physically grimaced, "I'm sorry. My mistake." I said, taking my knife back, sheathing it.

"What do you-what do you remember about your dad?" She asked me, almost sadly, "I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head?" I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about him. "Come on, tell me."

Lowering myself at the table, I clasped my hands together, "I was six or seven, and uh, he took me shooting for the first time. You know, balls on a fence, that kind of thing. I bulls-eyed every one of 'em. He gave me this smile, like... I don't know." I smiled at the memory. It was one of the few I could remember him being proud.

"He must have been proud." She said.

I looked up at her, "What about your dad?"

"I was still in pigtails when my dad died, but I remember him coming home from a hunt. He'd burst through that door like, like Steve McQueen or something. And he'd sweep me up in his arms, and I'd breathe in that old leather jacket of his." Jo smiled at the memory of her dad, "And my mom, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left, she started smiling again. And we were... we were a family." Her smile faded slightly as she came back to reality, "You wanna know why I want to do the job? For him. It's my way of being close to him. Now tell me what's wrong with that."

I shook my head, "Nothing."

"So…" Jo's demeanor changed suddenly, "You and her are back together." She more or less stated, rather than asking. I straightened up in my chair, tilting my head at her.

"Yeah," I answered, nodding my head, "I guess you can say that."

Jo pursed her lips, "Why?"

I blinked at her a couple of times, "Why?" What does she mean, 'Why?'

"Yes, why?" Jo scoffed, the corner of her mouth tipped into a cynical smile, "I mean, why did you get back with her? After everything she's done to you?" I opened my mouth to speak, "And please, don't humor me with that 'Because I love her' crap. That's for romance movies."

I furrowed my brows at her, "I don't have to explain myself to you; you know that right?" Jo narrowed her eyes at me, "What I do with Abigail is none of your business. Whatever goes on between me and her is none of your concern."

She held her hands up, "Fine, whatever."

"Another thing," I added, "Whatever is going on between you and her—it needs to stop. Petty crap like that is what'll get you killed. Trust me, I know it first-hand." I had a feeling Jo was about to ask about it, and at that moment, Sam and Abigail burst through the door—like Steve McQueen or something—absent of coffee. They were breathing hard, like they had been running, "Where's the coffee?" I asked.

"There are cops outside." Sam told us.

"Another girl disappeared." Abigail finished.

---

Abigail's POV

Apartment—Morning

Sam, Jo, and I studied the notes and research we had laid out, a little more urgently than before. This entire apartment was giving me the creeps—even more now since another blonde had disappeared. Dean went out to find out more about what had happened, leaving the three of us behind for the time being. Jo seemed a little more withdrawn, jilted about something.

Dean must've said something to her that pissed her off. I concluded as I skimmed through another page. Dean came through the door a few moments later, shutting the door. The three of us straightened up upon his return, fixating on him to speak.

"Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F." He said, "Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn."

I twirled a pencil between my fingers, "And her apartment?" Dean had crossed over to where I was sitting, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling—there was ectoplasm, too." Dean filled us in. If anyone thought I didn't catch the dark look Jo gave us, they'd be sorely wrong. I did.

"Well, between that and that tuft of hair I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls." Sam suggested, eyes falling to each of us.

"But who is it?" I asked, sounding miffed, "Buildin's history is totally clean."

Jo picked up a photograph, "Well, maybe we're looking in the wrong place." She sounded distracted.

Dean looked over to her, confusion whirling around in my stomach, "What do you mean?" He questioned.

"Check this out." She said, letting Sam lean over to look at the photo.

"An empty field?" Sam asked.

"It's where this building was built." She pointed to something else in the photo, "Take a look at the one next door. The windows."

His eyes widened, "Bars."

"We're next door to a prison?" I asked. They nodded. Almost instantly, Jo picked up her phone and dialed a number. Dean glanced to me, and I shrugged. A few minutes passed and we realized it was Ash.

"Thanks, Ash." Jo said, "And if you breathe a word of this to my mom..." She paused, listening, "That's right. I will. With pliers." I smirked at the threat that was hanging on her words. She hung up, "Okay. Moyamensing prison. Built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this. They used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door."

Sam nodded, "Well, then, we need a list. All the people executed there."

"Ash is already on it." Jo said.

Later, Ash came through with a list, emailing to Sam. He scrolled through them, "A hundred fifty seven names?"

"We've gotta narrow that down." I commented, sounding astounded at that many souls being executed.

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

"Or else we're gonna be digging up a hell of a lot of stiffs." Dean added. That was the last thing I wanted to do. Damn, cemeteries. I glanced over Sam's shoulder as he came to a name, Herman Webster Mudgett. He clicked on it, frowning.

"Herman Webster Mudgett?" Sam voiced out.

"Yeah?" Jo said.

"Wasn't that H. H. Holmes' real name?" I asked.

Dean looked shocked, "You've gotta be kiddin' me." He came around the table to look at it, "Yep. Holmes was executed at Moyamensing, May 7, 1896."

"H. H. Holmes himself." Sam muttered, "Come on, I mean, what are the odds?"

Jo looked confused, "Who is this guy?"

I looked up at her, "The term multi-murderer, they coined it to describe Holmes." I explained, "He was America's first serial killer—before anybody knew what a serial killer was." Her brows raised at the information.

"Yeah, he confessed to twenty-seven murders, but some put the death toll at over a hundred."

"And his victim flavor of choice?" Dean reached out to pick up some of my hair, "Pretty petite blondes. He, uh, he used chloroform to kill 'em." I felt his uneasiness. He voiced it a few times, even more so since we tackled this job. What a time to be blonde again. "Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night." He added, "At his place, cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blonde hair."

Dropping my hair, he turned his head to look at Jo, "Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em."

Jo shrugged, "Well, we just find the bones, salt 'em and burn 'em, right?"

"Well, it's not that easy." Sam told us, "His body is buried in town, but it's encased in a couple tons of concrete."

Jo scrunched her face, "What? Why?"

"The story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilatin' his corpse. 'Cause, you know, that's what he used to do." I told her.

"You know somethin'. We might have an even bigger problem than that." Sam said, earning a look from Jo.

"How does this get bigger?" She questioned. Smirking to myself, I think she was beginning to realize how much of a job this life is.

"Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago. He called it the Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory, they had, uh, trap doors, acid vats, quick line pits... he built these secret chambers inside the walls. He'd lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate, others he'd let starve to death." Sam explained.

"So Teresa could still be alive." Jo summed up, "She could be inside these walls."

Dean nodded, "We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've got to smash these walls, anywhere thick enough to hide a girl."

---

Apartment Building Walls—Day

So it was my turn to babysit Jo. Dean was a floor above us, and Sam was on the first floor. They were calling every five minutes; especially Dean. Squeezing through crawl-spaces inside the building walls, which were fairly easy to do since we were most likely to get in and out quicker than Dean and Sam was.

"Okay. Call us after you check the southeast wall." Jo concluded, hanging up the phone, "Sam's almost done with the first floor. Hasn't found jack squat." She said from behind me.

"Alright." I said before I paused, feeling an overwhelming sense of unease coming from a narrow hallway.

"What is it? Too narrow?" She asked, peering around me.

I shook my head, "No, we can get through 'em fine, it's just—," My cellphone rang. It was Dean. "Hey, you."

"Hey, you. I'm comin' to you girls." Dean said.

"Dean, we're good." I told him, "Really."

"Yeah, well, I'm not comfortable leaving you two by yourselves—especially since you two are basically askin' to be caught." I snorted.

"Nothin's gonna happen." I shivered slightly at the anxiousness I was feeling, and frowned, glad that Jo couldn't see my face, "We're good down here."

"Abs," Dean growled out.

"Dean." I returned the favor in the same tone, "I'm serious, we got it. We're fully loaded. We're grown-ups. We can tie our own shoes and everythin'." I mused with a lighthearted laugh, "Nothin' a pair of uteruses can do that a pair of balls can't."

"Too late, I'm in the crawlspace coming to you." Dean growled out, "Stay put."

I arched my brow at nothing, "Seriously, Dean?"

"As a heart-attack. I mean it. Stay. Put." He said before hanging up. I sighed, shoving my phone back into my pockets.

"What is it?" Jo asked.

I looked at her with a nonchalant wave of my hand, "Daddy Winchester wants to keep us where he can see us."

She let out a snort, "He's a little over-bearing, isn't he?"

"You just don't know." I muttered, "Heart's in the right place, his emotions…eh, they could use some work." That uneasy feeling got worse, like someone was watching us. I looked back down the hallway, almost entranced by the shroud of darkness that held onto the narrow hallway. There was something there—I could definitely sense it. It wasn't until I felt a firm hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump, whirling around considerably fast, despite the cramped space we were in, to see Dean, "Jesus Christ, Dean." I hissed out, throwing another look down the narrow hall.

"Sorry." He said, in a non-apologetic tone. Dean easily saw the narrow hallway from over me, letting out a breath, "Looks like the road ends here. It's too narrow." Jo got a little hotheaded at that, practically elbowing her way to the front, "Ow, hey!" Dean blurted out as she squeezed by, pressing him and me both against uneven rocks against the walls. Whatever uncomfortableness he was feeling, it doubled for me.

"Abigail and I can fit in there." Jo announced, upon inspecting the narrow space.

Dean shook his head vigorously, "Oh, no. No. The two of you are not going in there by yourselves."

Jo turned back to us, "You got a better idea, macho man?" Dean fought with himself on a comeback, or a better idea. It fell flat. Jo smirked, grabbing my arm, "Yeah, you just sit here and think on that. We're going ahead."

Despite being drug by Jo, I slipped out of her grasp as she slid out of sight, "Abs," I paused, turning to look at Dean as he grabbed my elbow. I saw the troubled expression in his eyes when they would flicker after Jo, then fixate back on me, "Be careful."

My lips curved into a small smile, shifting towards him to press my lips against his in response to his words, "Always." I said, pulling back.

"Abigail, are you comin' or what?" Jo called out. I looked in her direction, then let out a sigh. I was with Dean on this one—it wasn't a good idea to go back there.

"As soon as you think things are about to go south, you get Jo and get out of there." Dean told me, firmly. Without a word, I nodded and squeezed my way through the tight space with Jo. The look in his eyes held an uncomfortable look, almost angry. After we got out of sight, my phone buzzed to life. Jo snorted as I answered it.

"Where are you two?" He inquired.

Jo and I slid further ahead, "On the north wall." I replied, coming to an air duct. I froze when she started to climb down into it, "Jo, what the hell are you doin'?" I hissed out.

"What is it?"

I shook my head, "We're gonna head down some kind of air duct."

"No, no, no, no. Stay up here." Dean said with urgency in his voice.

Jo motioned her hand for me to give her the phone. So I did, "Look, we've gotta find this girl, don't we? I'm okay, Abigail's okay—nothing's gonna happen." She paused, sliding down into the duct. I followed suit, and instantly regretted it as we came out into a similar space on a lower level. We tried to get down another narrow passageway, only for it to be impassable.

I heard Jo swear, when everything within me went of red alert. Black ectoplasm started to pour out from the wall crack around us with a sickening gurgling sound. "Oh God." Jo uttered, looking around, then at me, scared. I gripped her hand tightly.

"Dean?" I said loud enough to be heard on the phone, "Get over here, now!"

"What is it? Jo? Abs? Guys!" I heard Dean shout over my phone.

"Jo, get behind me." I instructed, keeping a firm hand on hers. The hairs on my arms and neck stood up. I didn't see him coming. Neither did Jo. Turning ever so slightly, we came face to face to the decrepit spirit of H. H. Holmes. Jo let out a scream. I blinked and Jo was gone; just like that. The only thing I had in my hand was her bracelet, my phone hit the floor with a thud.

"Jo!" I screamed out. My eyes were wide, as I tried to press on after her, only to fail due to the narrowness of the hall. I had nowhere else to go. I virtually became trapped like some kind of caged animal. I couldn't just let her be kidnapped by this thing! "Shit, shit, shit!" The longer I was there in the small space, the more I became worried and concerned and frightened for her, "Jesus Christ." I whimpered out, fighting off an angry onslaught of tears.

There was a loud smashing sound, Dean's voice yelling out for us, "Jo! Abs!" I cringed at the sound of Dean's voice. I winced when the sledgehammer broke through, sending a stream of light into the dark space.

"In here!" I called back, only to push Dean further into getting me out.

As many times as I've heard him shout my name, it was times like this, the tonality of his voice broke my heart, "Abs!" I saw Dean peering into the wall, deeply frightened. "Jesus, Abs!" He breathed out, "Stand back." With another few hits of the sledgehammer, he made the hole big enough for me to climb through, in which, he practically drug me through.

Stumbling back a few feet, Dean's arms had wound themselves around me in a vice grip—I thought he was going to break me in half—as he buried his face into the crook of my neck. The amount of fear that was coming from him left me speechless. That was only until he pulled back, clasping his hands onto either side of my face, "What the hell happened?"

I fought off another round of tears, "I-I don't know." I shook my head, trying to recollect my thoughts of what just happened. Being calm was not a thing that was going to easily come to me right now, "Jo and me were-were fine, then we got to that lower point—," My hands motioned back to the gaping hole in the drywall and plaster from where Dean had extracted me from, "We couldn't get through—it got narrower. Then ectoplasm started pourin' out from the walls like you would a five gallon bucket full of water. I got her behind me, I blinked, and-and," I brought my hands up to cover my mouth. I couldn't breathe. Dean closed his eyes, angry at himself for not being there with us. After a moment, I let out a shaky breath, "He got her, Dean." I whispered out, avoiding his gaze, "It's my fault. I-I shoulda went down that duct first."

"None of this is your fault." He managed to bite out, "It's mine—I should've been there with you two." Looking up at him, he appeared torn. Deeply afflicted by the fact that he had lied to Ellen about Jo's whereabouts, "We gotta keep a clear head." I nodded. He didn't have to say anything else, for I was sure he already knew I could sense how he felt. He was already kicking himself for letting us go by ourselves, and scared for a number of reasons. Another second passed, then he grabbed me by the arm, pulling me back up the hallway. Time was running out for both Jo and Teresa.

It wasn't until we practically ran over top of Sam; who was making his way up to us. Sam stopped, "Whoa."

"He's got Jo." I panted out.

Sam gawked, "What? How'd that happen?"

"I didn't go with them." Dean said, "I should've been there." He got angrier by the second, "Dammit!"

Sam took Dean by the shoulders to calm him down, "Hey, hey. Look, we'll find her, alright?"

"Where?" He demanded.

"Inside the walls." Sam said.

I shook my head, "Sammy, we've been inside the walls all night." He looked over to me, "None of the other girls were there—she won't be either." There were about a million scenarios going in my mind—all of which, were bad. Sam, Dean, and I retreated to the apartment where Sam was trying to calm the both Dean and I down.

"Look. We've just gotta take a beat and think about this." Sam said, "Maybe we got Holmes' M.O. wrong."

"Yeah, well, we'd better fuckin' think fast." Dean muttered as his cell phone started to ring. A knot formed in my stomach as he answered it, "Yeah." He suddenly grimaced, "Ellen—"His mouth formed a thin line, not sure of where to start, "She's gonna have to call you back, she's taking care of, uh, feminine business." He made up. I furrowed my brows at him, earning an exasperated look from him. Dean grimaced again, then guilt finally broke him after Ellen, more or less, screeched out 'Where is she?!'

I took his phone from him, "Look, we'll get her back." I tried to take the heat off of Dean. It needed to be on me now more than anything.

"Abigail? Get her back? Back from what?" Ellen demanded.

"The spirit we're huntin', it took her." I answered truthfully, "I tried to keep it away from her; I really did. It's my fault."

"Oh my god." Ellen murmured, terror and concern in her voice. Sam and Dean stood in front of me, listening to the best of their abilities as to what Ellen had to say.

"She'll be okay, I promise."

Ellen scoffed in a disbelieving manner, "You promise." She deadpanned, "That is not the first time I've heard that from someone working with a Winchester."

I furrowed my brows, "What?"

"If anything happens to her..." She growled out.

"It won't." I said hurriedly, "I won't let it, Ellen. From mother to mother—nothin' will happen."

Ellen scoffed, "From mother to mother?" I grimaced, seeing Dean and Sam grimace at the tone of her voice, "A mother wouldn't let her child get hurt. A mother wouldn't let her child out of her sight! Don't you pull that bull shit with me, Abigail." She growled out, "I'm taking the first flight out. I'll be there in a few hours." She hung up.

I inhaled deeply to prevent myself from throwing Dean's phone. Instead of me throwing something, Dean picked up a chair and launched it, "Damnit!"

Sam looked to both of us, "Don't beat yourself up, guys. There's nothing you could have done."

"Tell me you've got somethin', Sammy." I muttered, not wanting to hear the pity party from him.

"Uh, maybe." He pointed to a place on the map, "Look." Dean and I moved over to the table to look at where Sam was pointing, "You look at the layout of the Holmes murder castle, there's all the torture chambers inside the walls, right?"

Dean nodded, "Right."

"But there's one we haven't considered yet—the one in this basement." Sam pointed out.

"Sam, this buildin' doesn't have a basement." I said.

He glanced up to me, nodding, "You're right, it doesn't. But I just noticed this." His finger slid to another area, "Beneath the foundation, it looks like part of an old sewer system that hasn't been used for —"

"Let's go." Dean interrupted Sam as he grabbed his jacket and books. I shrugged mine on, following close behind with Sam trailing behind.

---

Street—Day

Following a trail with a metal detector and shovels in tow, we came to an open field until I stopped over one spot, the metal detector whining. I tapped the area with a shovel, "Here."

Dean dropped his bag and started to dig furiously. It didn't take half as long to dig with three people, because after some work, we were able to dig with our hands to uncover a metal trap door—which we pulled open. Dean handed Sam and I both a shotgun before taking one himself and a flashlight, then started into it. Instantly, that overwhelming anxious feeling I get slammed into me as we heard a scream. It was Jo's.

From where we came through, Dean and I rushed over to the gated door. I peered inside to see the same spirit—H. H. Holmes—standing by a metal box with a hand inside, "Hurry up, Sam." I hissed out as he picked the lock, throwing open the door as he finished, allowing Dean and I to rush in, shotguns raised.

I whistled, catching his attention just as Dean shouted, "Hey!" Just as Holmes turned to us, we fired, sending the bastard backwards and out of sight. We rushed forward.

"Jo?!" I called out.

"I'm here!" She called back from the box that Holmes was at. I went over to the box, peering in at her, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Dean found an iron bar leaning against a wall. I stepped to the side as he started to pry open the box as Sam investigated other compartments. Looking around, I waited for Holmes to show up. I was ready.

"We're gonna get you out of here, alright?" I glanced back, understanding who he was talking to; Teresa.

"Sam!" Dean handed the bar to him, turning back to the compartment, "Hang on." I helped Dean open the compartment to let Jo out. She grimaced, looking to each of us, "You alright?"

"Been better," She replied breathlessly, more than ready to leave, "Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back."

Dean glanced at me, "Actually, I don't think we're leaving here just yet."

Jo furrowed her brows, "What?"

"Remember when I said you being bait was a bad plan?" He glanced over to me, "Now it's kind of the only one we got." We turned to Sam, who had Teresa in his arms. He shrugged.

Jo glanced at me, almost terrified that it had come down to this, "Flip you."

I blinked, "What?"

"I said I'd flip you—we're both blondes," Jo pointed out.

"Oh, but no." I told her, shaking my head.

Jo scoffed, "And why not?"

"Because I said." I growled out, "I'm stayin' here as bait. You're goin'."

"Why do you care?" She spat out, "Y'know what? I'm going to be bait whether you like it or not." As she started around me, I gripped her arm tightly, "Let me go."

I shook my head, "Not hardly. You're goin' with them." I motioned towards Dean and Sam, "I'm stayin' behind."

Jo jerked away from me, fuming, "You all think I'm just some kid!" She accused, "I've done every bit of this myself before you three came along and took it!" Her eyes flashed in anger, "I can do this myself. I don't need you preaching at me like you're my mother—you're not. Hell, I don't even know why you came back, after you abandoned them!" Jo swung her hand out to Sam and Dean; which, needless to say, pissed me off.

"Jo—," Dean growled out.

"I didn't abandon them." I told her coolly, "You can think whatever you want to about what happened between Dean and me, but it's none of your business." I advanced towards her, seeing her ready herself for a fight that wasn't coming, "I promised your mother nothin' would happen to you, and I'm keepin' that promise—"

"I don't care what you promise!" She yelled out, "I'm—"

"You're not gettin' hurt. You think you can do these things like I can, Shelby, but you can't!" I shouted out, only to pause, realized whose name I said. Jo froze, confused for the most part by what I said before Dean gently took her by the arm to usher her out of the way. His eyes fell on me. It only took a couple of minutes to get a plan worked up; fifteen to twenty tops to get the bags of salt tied up, another two for Dean's words of encouragement, which was him basically trying to talk me out of it and me reassuring him that I'll be fine.

So here I sat, in the middle of this decrepit chamber. Waiting. Watching. I wrapped my arms around my knees, breathing deeply and steadily to keep myself calm. From behind me, Dean and Sam were close by. I knew they were. Tensions where high, but I was a nervous wreck. The hairs on my neck and arms stood up, hearing the sounds of boots coming towards me. I squeezed my eyes shut. My heart was pounding in my chest like a ten pound sledgehammer. A part of me started to pray that this was going to be flawless.

"Now!" Dean shouted. I dove forward as Jo, Sam, and Dean fired at the several bags of salt, forming a perfect circle around Holmes, trapping him within it. I scrambled to get on my feet, having Dean pull me to safety as the angry spirit circled around, speaking gibberish and screamed out in terror.

"Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!" Jo called out to him, as he turned, staring at her and me. I glanced over to her as she offered a soft smile, and I returned one as well.

---

Sam's Point of View

Streets—Day

Dean and Abigail left Jo and I to, more or less, guard the sewers. Looking down at the gaping entrance, I glanced up to Jo with a smile, "So? This job as glamorous as you thought it would be?"

"Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure." She said with a shrug, "But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?"

I nodded, "Yeah. Yeah it is."

We were silent for a moment. "Hey," She said suddenly, "What if somebody finds that sewer down there, or a storm washes the salt away?"

I smiled at her question since Dean, Abigail, or I had said anything to her about what we had planned, "Both very fine points. Which is why we're waiting here."

"For what?" Jo asked, completely confused. The loud beeping of a large truck backing up is heard. I turned, smiling as a cement mixer is backing into the field, stopping just over the sewer entrance.

"For that." I told her, waving to Dean for him to stop the truck, "Whoa!"

Dean and Abigail got out of the cab, the three of us set up the mixer right over the entrance.

"You ripped off a cement truck?" Jo asked incredulously as Abigail glanced at her with a smirk.

"We'll give it back," Abigail said, watching the cement pour on down the chute. She looked over to Dean with a grin, "Well, that oughta keep him down there till hell freezes over." Dean nodded in agreement, looking overly pleased about how the whole thing turned out.

---

Abigail's Point of View

When our task was done, both boys decided to leave me with Jo to return the cement truck.

We didn't speak for a few minutes; it kind of felt awkward.

"So…" I began, "Uh, I think I owe you an apology."

Jo looked over at me, giving me an onceover, "I think I owe you an apology. I was a bitch to you."

I smirked, "Not the first time someone's been one. It's fine." Jo blinked.

"Really?" She asked.

"Why yeah," I lifted my shoulders up in a shrug, "I'm usually the one callin' people out on their bullshit, but what can I say? You're as sharp as a tack, although you're stubborn as a mule…" Jo stared at me for a moment, only for me to smile, "but you're also tougher than a pine knot." I caught Jo smiling from the corner of my eye, "Even if you are a rookie."

She giggled, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I mused, "You done pretty good."

"So…are we good?" She asked.

I thought about it for a moment, then nodded, "Yeah, we're good. Water under the bridge."

That night, we all sat in silence. Wedged between Jo and Sam in the backseat, Dean and Ellen were up front. I dared to speak, sensing the overwhelming tidal waves of fury come from Ellen. From up front, Dean glanced nervously to his right, then up into the rearview mirror at us. I offered a nervous smile, though it disappeared when Ellen looked to us from the corner of her eyes. This had to be the most quiet any of us had been since John had died.

"Boy, you—you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?" Dean spoke finally in an attempt to break the tension. From Ellen's side, there's no reaction whatsoever; Sam, Jo, and I exchanged a couple of looks. "How about we listen to some music?" He suggested, flicking the radio on.

You're as cold as ice...I cringed at the words before Ellen reached forward and without as much as a word or breath, she flicked the radio off. The three of us exchanged another look as Dean glanced back at us as if for assistance. Neither of us made a move to speak. He sighs.

"This is gonna be a long drive." He muttered. I silently agreed, knowing that this was going to be a very long drive indeed. Dean drove through the night, making it back to the Roadhouse by midday. As soon as Dean had stopped the Impala, Ellen had taken Jo by the arm, dragging her back inside—Sam, Dean, and I following behind.

"Ellen? This is my fault. Okay? I lied to you and I'm sorry." Dean said quickly, trying to reason with her, however, she remained impassive to his words.

"Ellen," I said in an attempt to help Dean, "Whether or not this helps, Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud."

It didn't help. Not one bit. Ellen glared at me, "Don't you dare say that—not you." I frowned, staring at Ellen like she had slapped me. From under her venomous gaze, I shifted uncomfortably, causing Dean to inch near me, "I need a moment with my daughter—alone." We went outside to allow the two women to sort out their argument without another word.

Outside, the three of us leaned against the Impala, awaiting for the knockdown drag-out to cease. We each brought up different possibilities of what they were fighting about—each making great possible answers. It was something very personal to Ellen; something that angered her, yet pained her at the same time. Something Jo didn't know about. As a result, I would grimace, clench my teeth, and ball my fists up out of reacting to their anger. To be honest, I think it freaked Dean out. He seemed a little tense just watching me.

"Hey. You okay?" He would ask, eyes focused on my hands and facial expression.

I blinked, unaware of what was happening, "Yeah, why?"

"You look like you're about to go a couple of rounds with somebody." Sam answered for him, causing me to chuckle half-heartedly, unclenching my fists. I looked down at them to see blood rushing back into my hands, shortly looking back up at the sound of the doors to the Roadhouse being slammed open with Jo storming out like a tornado. She glared at Dean, then fixated on me and kept stalking past. Dean and I glanced to each other, confused and unknowing of what was said.

"That bad, huh?" I said, feeling her anger spike.

"Not right now." She said brusquely.

Dean and I exchanged another look, "What happened?" Dean asked, only for Jo to ignore him.

"Hey, talk to us. What's going on?" I asked, only for her to jerk away when I reached out to touch her arm. Her anger was rising with each passing second.

"Get off me!" She barked out, causing me to take a step back out of surprise.

Dean and I lifted our hands in a defensive manner, "Sorry." Dean told her curtly, wrapping an arm around my waist, "See you around." We turned to head back to the Impala, where Sam was watching us curiously.

"Guys." We paused at Jo's words, "It turns out my dad had partners on his last hunt—two of them." She let out a harsh scoff, "Funny, he usually worked alone; this guy did too as well as the other, but..." Jo took a deep breath, "I guess my father figured he could trust them—big mistake. One of the guys screwed up—got my dad killed."

Dean looked at her confused, "What does this have to do with—"

"It was your father, Dean; and hers." She said with vehemence as she jerked her chin towards me.

I furrowed my brows at her, completely not understanding what happened. This was news to me. "What?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"Why do you think John never came back?" Jo asked Dean, who looked as shocked as I was, "Why do you think your parents never told you about us?" She asked me. My heart broke at the angry and lost expression Jo held in her eyes, "Because they both couldn't look my mom in the eye after that, that's why." Jo gave us both an onceover, letting out a rough sound, "A Winchester is always going to save a Colt—it makes sense since both of them were in the military together."

"Jo." Dean said gently.

She took a step back from us, "Just... just get out of here. Please, just leave." Dean raised his hands in a defensive manner once more, then gestured for me to follow him. I shook my head at him slowly, then gestured for him to go ahead. With a quiet nod, Dean kissed me on the temple before turning his back to Jo as he headed back to the Impala. Once he was near Sam, out of earshot, I turned back to her.

"Jo, please—," I began to speak and that was when somethin in her snapped.

"Abigail, don't you start." She bit out, "I've had it up to here with your good-girl bullshit. I know how you are."

Okay, awkward. "Excuse me?"

"What you done to Dean and Sam—" Jo shook her head, eyes flashing in anger, "You left them."

I scrunched my face in confusion, not really understanding why we were back at square one, "Jo, what the-? I thought we got past this?"

She scoffed, "We're so not past this—you don't deserve Dean or Sam. That little stunt you pulled back at the motel?" I furrowed my brows at her bringing up that mistake, "You know, the one where you pretended to drown to scare Dean? Bitch move."

Anger boiled in the pit of my stomach, "You don't know a damn thing about mine and Dean's relationship. What gives you—?"

"I know enough to say you're nothing but a bitch!" She snapped, "You weren't there after you and him split. You didn't see what kind of shape he was in." That honestly broke my heart to think about it, "What kind of person skips out on the ones they 'supposedly' love?"

"Enlighten me, Jo."

"A coward, that's who." She spat out.

"You don't know what we went through." I said coolly, "And I'm not a coward." Jo's eyes went to the cloudless sky, another cynical scoff passed through her lips, "It's tragic that you lost your dad—it really is. I lost my entire family. Losin' them, then losin' John was just as bad. Someone once told me long ago that they weren't gonna come back, and they aren't. I can deal with it."

"You might've lost your dad to a mistake that happened many years ago—you can be mad at the men who caused it, but I'll be damned to let you be pissed off at the two who don't deserve it." I said gesturing my head to Dean and Sam who were oblivious to our 'discussion'. I placed my hand on my chest, "I've made my mistakes—I live with them every day." I then pointed to her, "So when I tell you it's none of your business on what goes on between Dean and I, or Sam and I, hell for the three of us—" I took a step towards her, causing her to take a step back, "It's none of your fuckin' business." Jo's mouth gaped slightly, fighting with herself to speak. Her face was so red, I honestly though it was going to explode. So, when her attempt fell flat, I let out a silent scoff, giving her a quick onceover, "Nice chat, Jo. See you 'round."

Ending the argument, I turned on my heels walking back to the Impala where Sam and Dean were waiting.

"What'd Jo want?" Dean asked.

I shook my head, pulling an innocent look, "Ah, just girl stuff—nothin' that would be interestin' to you."

Dean pulled a face that meant he wasn't going to ask any further, motioning to Sam to get in the car. The ride back to Sioux Falls was silent, calm, but silent. The mood was lighter since we had been away from Ellen and Jo—their argument still ringing in our ears. Things felt like they were looking up for us as far as we knew. Sitting up front between Sam and Dean, I was in between emotions. The overbearing feeling of guilt that came from Dean magnified mine after finding out what had happened so long ago, but the feeling of excitement for my daughter's discharge was beginning to reign supreme.

All we could think about now was the countdown ticking in our heads about Megan's discharge.

---

NICU—Early Morning

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

After grabbing a few hours of sleep, the four of us made a trip to the hospital to see Megan. I, for one, couldn't wait to hold her in my arms again, especially with the news that Ashley had given me the other day. I mean, the possibility of bringing Megan home? That would be one of the best things to happen for us. Except, as soon as we hit the floor to the NICU, this overwhelming sense of dread washed over me. I didn't even stop at the washing station, which alerted Dean and Sam.

"Abs, what're you doing?" Dean asked.

I saw doctors running towards a room—Megan's room—as my mouth went dry. I started running with Sam and Dean right behind me, not listening to them calling out my name until I saw the doctors around Megan's incubator. A distant shouting was being heard with them yelling at the same time.

"What's happening with my daughter?" I asked them, panicking.

A nurse gently pushed me back, "You all need to stay outside."

I started to tremble, "Tell me what the hell is wrong with my child! I'm her mother!" I shouted taking a step forward to be near my kid, "I'm her mother, let me in there!" Someone was holding me back, causing me to try with everything I had the break away from the hold, but the restraint was too strong. A lump formed in my throat, feeling the urge to scream and shout and just cry. It wasn't long at all that I found myself feeling weak, and the next thing I knew I was on my knees.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears slid down in hot, fat drops, "Megan!"

Dean was beside me on the ground, arms around me tightly. His lips pressed against my temple before he rested his forehead against the side of my head, "It's gonna be okay," I heard him whisper. I squeezed my eyes shut, "Everything's gonna be okay." He whispered again, this time his voice was strained, "Meg's gonna be okay." I wasn't sure if I believed him, like he believed himself.

An hour later, we were sitting against the wall as Dean never let me go. I felt this numbness consume my body, and from crying over and over, my eyes felt puffy. Sam sat on the other side of me, head leaned on mine with our fingers entwined. His eyes were red from crying, feeling just as helpless as we were.

"Dean? Abigail?" I heard Ashley's voice coming from NICU. The three of us were instantly on our feet as she came up to us, "Megan had an allergic reaction to the new medication we gave her. She's fine, but her fever isn't all the way down yet." Sam and Dean's hands tightened around mine, "Looks like her release date will be postponed until further notice. I'm sorry." As Ashley stepped towards me, I let go of the boys' hands, allowing her to wrap her arms around my neck, equally heartbroken about the news.

I can't believe this was happening. As we stepped back, I felt Dean slip his arm back around me. It didn't take a rocket scientist to say that one could sense his heart breaking due to the fact that his hopes were brought down. I mean, the way his face lit up the moment I mentioned Megan might be able to come home? God I jumped the gun on that one. Another barrage of tears hit me once again; it felt like they were uncontrollable.

Bringing myself to wipe away my tears after the millionth time, I looked up as I saw the head doctor, and I saw a familiar face, and with that playful wink in my direction. My breath caught in my throat, more like tightened, as they walked by. I stared him down, focusing more on him than what I usually did. There was something about this odd, winged man. Something off, something that felt familiar—comforting almost—as he paused, holding my gaze. A connection I was able to make with him, was that he only showed up during a crisis that involved me.

The longer I stared at him, the more I wanted to walk over to him and find out what he was doing her, the only thought I was able to comprehend was; Help my daughter. I didn't bother to break away from Dean and Sam to tell him, and like her heard me, he smirked and saluted me before disappearing into thin air. It always marveled me that this man was real, if he was real at all. After a group of interns walked where he stood, I blew out a breath, "I'm sorry guys."

"Why?" asked Sam.

I forced myself to look to the quizzical expressions both brothers held, "Because y'all were so excited, and now I ruined it."

"Abs, this wasn't your fault." He said kissing into my hair, "Stuff like this happens." When I couldn't see him, he looked to Dean with a worried look, "Besides," Sam nudged me gently, "You said it yourself—she's a Winchester."

"One of the toughest." Dean added, "Definitely one of the toughest."

---

A/N: Hi guys! After a month long 'Hellatus', I've come back. Things have been bad on the home front, however, they turned around for the best! I guess I can say I needed a little time to myself to focus on my family and school, and boy, did I need it! I deeply apologize for taking so long without any say, and I hope ya'll can forgive me! I hope this chapter is good for you guys, but I feel like it's missing an element that I'm not quite sure what it is. But I do feel like I got rusty.

Like I've stated previously in other chapters, I try my best to get chapters done in a week, week and a half depending on things around me. On this occasion, it took me longer. So, here's 'No Exit' (finally)!

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I'd love to thank Ladysunshine6 for helping me out with this and writing the last part of the chapter, as well as offering suggestions. I couldn't get this done if it wasn't for her! So, check out her sister-fic, Ain't Easy in the Big Easy!

I'd like to give credit to everyone in the Supernatural franchise as well as any television series I may mention. If anyone notices a familiar quote from an episode, movie, or whatever; just know they are not mine. All credit goes to the respected franchise.

Creative criticism is welcome as long as it is respectful! Let me know how I'm doing by reviewing (it could be short and sweet, or long, your choice) or you can simply PM me or you can get a hold of me via Tumblr! I love receiving fan-mail for all three!

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grapejuice101- Thank you! I'm glad you loved it!

ebonywarrior85- Thank you! It means a lot to hear that! (:

Guest- Thank you! Let me know how I'm doing in later chapters! (:

sarahmichellegellarfan1- Thank you! I apologize that it's taken me so long to get this chapter out! I hope you enjoyed it! (:

angelicedg- Awe, thank you! I definitely know what you mean! Things are starting to look up for me now, hope everything has been good on your end! (:

SassyGrl23- Great! I love to hear that! Happy belated birthday to you!