Abigail knew that Dean had spent four months in Hell because of a deal he had made to save Sam after he died. She knew he had been resurrected by an angel named Castiel, whom she had yet to meet. She knew that Lilith, the powerful demon they were pursuing as she broke seals left and right, had been the proud possessor of Dean's contract. This was a very personal matter for both boys, that much was obvious. She did not, however, know many details; but she did not press the brothers. They would share with her in time if she needed to know something. She had met the brothers during Dean's one-year contract and joined them a couple months after he came back. Sometimes she wondered if his brusqueness was a result of his time down under or if it was from a compilation of past events. To her question, Sam had once noted that "Dean has always been the run 'n' gun type; he had to grow up fast after our mom died; Dad would leave him to watch me while he went on hunting trips."
Dean himself did not mention his past much, save the occasional reference to some adolescent momentum. If his parents were named, his eyes trailed down and shoulders slightly pulled together. Abigail could tell it was a painful subject for him.
Currently, the trio were on their way to Harvelle's Roadhouse. Sam lounged in the passenger seat dozing, Dean hummed and played drums on the steering wheel and Abigail bounced excitedly in the backseat. It seemed forever since she had seen Ellen and Jo and could not sit still. Dean at one point offered to pull over so she could run alongside in an effort to eliminate her energy. Forcing herself to calm down, she settled her nose into a book and spent the rest of the trip in relative silence.
"Abs, what courses are you planning to take next semester?" Dean prompted. His question had propped open the door to something that was on her mind lately.
"Actually, if you guys aren't tired of me yet, I kind of wanted to stick around."
"What about classes? You're nursing degree?" She shrugged.
"I have my bachelor's and enough medical knowledge to be useful on hunts. And by the way, I was studying to be an athletic trainer, not a nurse."
"Like at a high school with a bunch of teenagers?" he grimaced at the mere thought. "I'm not sure if you should stick around; I don't want you mixed up with the whole Lilith pursuit and stopping the Devil's cage from being popped open. You have a future to live for."
"That future won't be there if Lucifer breaks free," she pointed out.
After a resigned sigh, "You can stay as long as you want," Dean offered, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. From the mass in the front seat came a "What he said." She grinned.
"You sure you're okay with it?"
"Absolutely. Someone like you is worth keeping around."
"And why is that, Winchester?" she leaned forward and rested her chin on the seat back. Her eyes trained on his passive face while his stared at the road.
"For one, you can put Sam in his place. You're a genius, you can patch us up, you're almost as good a shooter as I am, you can fight, you're one of the bravest people I know, not to mention beautiful." She blushed, smiled with a thanks.
After a few minutes of lapse silence with Bon Jovi, Dean glanced at Abigail. "Tell me something about yourself."
She shrugged, "what do you want to know?" He suggested high school and she pondered for a few minutes. "I was on the dance team; we won state two years in a row. I only tripped once on the stairs in four years. I was going upstairs and caught myself, so I was sprawled across six steps; then the kids behind me fell on top of me. I graduated third in my class with straight- As. The basketball and volleyball coaches were always trying to convince me to join their teams. My senior year, I won Homecoming princess. There was this girl, Camilla Roybal, who hated me but I didn't know that. At a sleepover, she drew on my face and placed my hand in a bowl of warm water." Dean snorted then tried to cover it up. "Go ahead and laugh; I got her back when she actually threw a punch at me and I laid her out in about five seconds. I grew up in a hunting family but wasn't allowed to go on my first case until I was sixteen. I helped my parents and older sister with research; they would only do things that were within a half-days drive and not more than two days; at least one parent would stay at home with my younger brother and I, though." Dean was appalled. His entire life he had believed a functioning family could not be raised in the hunting lifestyle. But here was a woman who proved his theories wrong. Forget everything he had said earlier. She should stay because of the new things she was constantly teaching him.
At long last the tires stopped before a familiar wooden building. The bar was nearly empty, save for Ash snoring on a pool table in the corner. "Look who the dog drug in," Ellen came around the counter wiping her hands, "Hello, boys." The wrinkle lines around her eyes deepened. "Abby, hon, it's great to see you."
She couldn't keep the smile away. "Hi, Ellen, it's good to see you, too." Hugs were shared around. The back doors swung open and none other than Jo Harvelle stalked in. She was the same as the last time: straight blonde hair, tank top over her apron, combat boots clomping.
She paused, seeing the newcomers, inspecting each one. Her head tilted to the side upon seeing Abigail. "Hey, girl, long time no see."
Abby stick out one hip, hands on her waist. "Miss me?"
Jo and Abigail embraced. "Every day." Once the girls pulled apart Jo proceeded to greet the Winchesters. "So you've been rolling with these two."
"There is never a dull moment," Abby grinned, "they keep me on my toes."
Jo's room was painted shades of blue with a plush white rug and pillows suffocating the bed; not decorations that would be expected. A Beatles poster held court above a simple desk. Not much had changed since the last time Abby stepped over the threshold. Jo sat cross legged on the bed, patted the space beside her.
"So tell me about yourself," she prompted once the other girl was comfortable. "How's college been?" They shared small talk and recent events with one another, catching up like the old friends they were. Then Jo asked what she obviously wanted to say. "The Winchesters, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"I think you know."
"I told you, we met at a bar. They needed help and stayed with me for a couple days." Abigail felt her face heating up despite best efforts. Jo offered a deadpan look only somebody who truly knew Abigail could accomplish.
"Please Abs. They are cuties, don't try to deny it because you know it's true-especially Dean. So which is your type? The tall, intelligent, level-headed hunk or the strong, impulsive, protective charmer?" Jo teased. Abby nearly pushed her off the mattress, then hid her blush with a pillow. But Jo was relentless. "Is it Dean? Or Sam? Oh my gosh, It's Dean." Abigail felt the temperature had risen twenty degrees. Her blonde friend's smirk indicated Jo had her answer.
"Please don't tell. I'll tell him if it is the appropriate time."
"Meaning you probably won't," she concluded then threw her arms up in surrender. "Fine, it's none of my business. But if you don't, can I hit that up?" The laugh that came from Abigail was strained.
A cough from the door drew the girls' attention. Dean stood politely in the hall, "Hey, Abs, you sleepin' in here tonight?" He gazed around the room appreciatively.
"Um…" she glanced to Jo, who looked back with raised eyebrows. "No, I'll be there in a minute."
Dean nodded and before leaving pointed a thumb to the poster. "The Beatles, really?"
"I like them," Jo retorted defensively. Then she turned to Abigail. "What do you two do at night?"
"You act like we're fourteen," she groaned in embarrassment, "we share a bed, nothing more. It helps both of us sleep better. I don't get nightmares as often." The final comment was said softer and Jo immediately sobered. She had not been on many hunts, but she understood the effect they had, especially on regular hunters. Especially on her friend.
"Are they getting bad again?" Abby shrugged, mentioned that they were not like before. The girls left the conversation at that. A few minutes later Abigail kissed Jo's cheek goodnight, crawled off the bed. Padding a few doors down she passed what she assumed to be either Sam snoring or a woodchipper. Dean was propped against the headboard reading when she entered, covers already turned down. She rested her head across his legs to identify the book cover.
"'Of Mice and Men'. Interesting."
"I can read more than picture books," he rolled his eyes.
"Is that what you call those magazines with the scantily-clad women?" His eyes shifted to her laying perpendicular to his body.
"This George dude, he's like the only family Lennie has. Makes you feel for the guy."
"Maybe it's the other way around. Lennie might be the only family George has and that's why he is so protective of him; even though he is smaller, George is like an older brother in how he constantly looks out for Lennie, always thinking of him in his decisions. Reminds me of somebody else I know," she pointedly commented.
Dean was slightly taken aback. Before, he had felt a connection to Lennie, a man without a home who never truly belonged anywhere; who people were constantly making sacrifices for because of his mistakes; but after what she had said, he saw the similarities between himself and George.
He closed the book and put it aside.
"Don't you want to know how it ends?"
"Not right now." Abigail then thought of how Steinbeck concluded the novela and thought it best he not read to the end. The two stretched out under the blankets. "What were you and Jo talking about?"
"Oh, just catching up and… girl stuff." One arm folded over her torso and Abigail was grateful the light was out; her face was heating up again. She could practically hear Jo's smirk from down the hall.
"Goodnight, Dean."
"Goodnight, Abs."
The next morning Ellen was found in the kitchen making eggs. When told she didn't need to, she replied, "I know. But it's not often we have company stay the night. And you three have been on the road so long I can't imagine the last time you had a properly home cooked meal." The Winchesters, Ash, Ellen and Abigail were seated when Jo emerged yawning. Wiggling her eyebrows she asked, "How did everybody sleep last night?" popping the 'p'. Abby faked a smile and replied a bit too pleasantly.
Too soon it was time to go. Abby drug her feet packing, to which Dean groaned and slapped his hand against the door frame. He wanted to get on Lilith's trail as quickly as possible, which was reasonable, expect that they had virtually no leads. Once everything was loaded, everyone congregated at the car.
"You come back any time," Ellen instructed, passing out hugs. "Abby, you keep an eye on these boys," she smiled.
Abigail promised, "I'll try. Love you." She reached Jo and the two squeezed each other. "I'll see you soon." Ash offered a bone-crushing hug to her and a firm handshake and clap on the back for the Winchesters. The three of them stood on the front steps as Sam, Dean and Abigail settled into the classic Impala.
"Where to now?"