Disclaimer: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fictions. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. This chapter has information on the episodes up until 02/11/10. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 4 until they are released on TV. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, starting with "Mission." This story takes place following the events in "Mission," and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes. Any lyrics mentioned in this story do not belong to me are are the property of their original writers.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: THIS CHAPTER IS A LONG ONE. A LOT OF THINGS WILL START TO HAPPEN VERY QUICKLY AT THIS POINT IN THE STORY. :-) ENJOY!
"We'll be in touch. Thank you for your time, m'am," the cop said, tipping his hat to Abby, the metal on his hat glinting in the dwindling daylight. She nodded, secretly fiddling with the silver necklace in her palm. Before the cops had arrived, Abby had pocketed the jewelry. She knew what would have happened when Dean and Sam had seen it; they would have recognized it, knowing who it belonged to and gotten way too involved.
Besides the unique metal necklace, there was little left to identify. Her face had been eviscerated beyond recognition. From the look of it, Hannah had been beaten, tortured and killed with immense brutality. All Abby could think of was that it was all because the girl had given Abby what little knowledge she had out of guilt. Hannah had been repentant. Now-
"You okay," Dean asked, putting his arm over her shoulder.
"Yeah, fine," she replied. "You?"
"Not the first dead body I've seen. It has been a while though," he murmured. "Poor kid."
"Yeah. We should thank Cas for having the forethought to keep Jamie inside. He didn't need to see that."
Neither did April, he reminded her, a hint of sadness in his voice. It was something they both wanted desperately to deny. Even so, there was no hiding the fact that April was more like her parents. Their baby girl was a hunter and had already seen death up close and personal. If they could only keep J away from the same fate. That's what Dean begged for; just one kid that didn't have to be subjected to the horrors of the hunter lifestyle.
"Maybe we should go back tonight," Dean suggested. She stiffened under his grasp, her mind going back to the text she had previously received and promptly deleted:
We know where you are.
This is a warning.
Don't try to out run us-or someone more important may share the same fate.
She had tried calling the number listed on the text for shits and giggles. Not entirely surprisingly, it was listed as an out-of-service number.
"No, no, I think we need one more night for us big kids to get out," she said, also reminding him that the cops said they had to stick around just in case there was questioning. Once they had fingerprints, if they weren't torn or singed off, Dean and Sam would discover something was up.
Her idea was met with hesitation; Dean fumbled with the idea of leaving the kids alone after the discovery of a body in their lake. Abby tried to sway him, saying that they knew nothing about the situation and it may have just been some random accident. Her stomach turned with every lie.
"It's not like Ruby could go out to the bar," she reminded him. "And, April is more than capable of handling herself. Hon, it's our last night here-I think we should have a little fun. Please?"
He stood in front of her, hands in his pockets, his posture morphing from stoic to calm. He was giving in.
"There you go biting your lip again. God, you know I can't say no when you beg. You're such a little manipulator. All right-all right," he paused, flashing her that adorable grin of his. "Ruby, A.C and Bobby stay here with J. We'll go out with the rest of 'em."
She put her arms over his shoulders in an embrace. Internally, she was thanking him for being such a pushover when it came to her. Abby needed that night. One more night of fun before she had to go, a memory of good times with her friends and man.
"All right, tomorrow we go out, then we leave that next morning. Got it," he ordered.
"Yes, sir," she kissed his cheek, doing her best not to shake under the added stress of yet more lies. Abby would have to remember to kiss him a lot more those two days without being too obvious. Couldn't arouse too much suspicion.
She had a feeling, with Dean around, that was going to be very difficult to avoid.
"Find anything, Bobby," Sam asked as the two of them conferred at the kitchen table.
"Nope. Nadda. It's been weeks, boy and we've got diddly squat," Bobby said, taking off his glasses and rubbing his tired eyes. "Look, without askin' her, we ain't gonna know."
"Dean doesn't want to bring anything up unless we know for sure we don't have anything."
"Well, we're there now, Sam. We've got shit. All we've got is random spells with no meaning cause we don't have the key. Maybe it's time you boys get your act together and go talk to the girl and just ask."
Sam scanned the paranormal tracking system again, just in case he had missed something obvious. Ever since Ash created it, Sam had found the computer program to track weather anomalies and celestial phases incredibly useful. He hadn't stopped looking at it since they had discovered the dead body that afternoon. There was just something off about the whole situation.
The death wasn't natural by any stretch of the imagination.
No electrical storms in the area. No catastrophes. Nothing.
There was one thing: the Dark Moon was next week. Did that correlate at all?
"You gonna join the brood down at the fire," Bobby asked.
Sam looked down at his family gathered around the campfire. Gwen sat on Cas' lap, her hand tenderly rubbing his knee. Abby and April were tossing marshmallows at Dean, who was yelling at them for wasting awesome food. Jamie and Ruby had tossed a beer bottle into the fire and were watching it melt, they looked as if they were engrossed in deep conversation.
Something told Sam he shouldn't interrupt that moment. His family, his whole family, was happy. Even if it was fleeting, that was more than enough for him.
"We need to dig a little more while we still can, Bobby," Sam admitted, planting his position on the dilemma. "We need to find something. If we don't find something by tomorrow night, I'll talk to Abby myself."
A hand clamped over his mouth.
His eyes snapped opened and gazed into dark eyes. Her finger was poised over her mouth, reminding him to be quiet.
"Get up," she muttered. "We're going."
"Where," he asked.
"There was a death up in Wisconsin. I intercepted an order that Donovan was supposed to pick some chick from there. I'll explain the rest in the car. Right now, we have to get up there."
He nodded while she tossed him a bag filled with his stuff. Dylan hastily put on his shoes as she gestured for him to follow her.
She peered down the hall, signaling for him to remain out of sight until she gave him the cue.
With no one in view, they made it undetected out to her car.
She turned it over quickly and gunned the engine, heading towards the freeway at speeds far exceeding the legal limit.
"You want to talk now," Dylan questioned.
"Well, the chick that Donovan was supposed to pick up? Yeah, there was no word on him picking her up...and then I'm scanning police reports up there, because I'm worried about your mom-there was a girl found dead in a lake in the same county near your family."
Dylan straightened up, his body tense with nervousness. Who was the person in the lake?
"It's not any of your family," she consoled, obviously sensing his change in energy. "I made some calls with my own contacts and had someone see who it was. They said it was an unknown blonde, Jane Doe. I found out about the killing from Gwen, so don't worry about that. Either way, I don't feel what's going on up there is good."
So that's why the secrecy? Sonora didn't feel the nest, who had probably sent Donovan to get the girl, wasn't trustworthy.
"How long till we get there," Dylan asked.
"About seven hours. We should get there by late morning," she said, shifting gears once again. "Make that six and a half. The sooner we get there, the better."
Dean lounged in the wooden chair on the dock, watching the water move below. Odd to think that the calm water had recently been part of a crime scene. The sun was straight overhead. Noon. He would normally say 'it's 5 o'clock somewhere' and grab a beer, but after what happened last afternoon, he didn't really feel like drinking. Well, that wasn't true, he did feel like it but he thought it best to be sober and keep on his toes.
"Hey," Sam said, taking seat next to his brother. "Ready to go out tonight?"
"I don't know-not really I guess. I wouldn't but Abby really wants to so...guess I have no choice, right?"
"Yeah, you know, I think it's best of I stay here and hang with the kids and Ruby," he said.
"Yeah, if you think it's best. Guess it's better to have you around here for protection."
"You're really worried about something happening," Sam inquired and Dean nodded.
Yep. Dean had that familiar sinking feeling, the one in the pit of his stomach. He was damn sure something was going to happen.
Sam sighed, rubbing his hands on his face.
"Dean, I have to tell you something,"
He turned to his little brother and listened as Sam released pent up misgivings regarding Abby. Sammy had dreams about her, not exactly knowing what was going on through them, but knowing that something was seriously wrong. In truth, from the screams and shrieks that have been going on in his sleep, it wasn't good at all.
"So, you've had your freaky deeky premonitions again," Dean asked with disdain, looking sternly at his brother. "When did this start?"
"To be honest-on and off since your car accident...don't be angry," Sam tried to explain.
"Angry, Sam? Oh, I'm not angry," he said, gripping the chair. "I am fucking furious! That far fucking back? This would have been good to know like back when I started to freak out about this. What did you see in your dream?"
Sam explained that he had never literally seen anything in the dream; it was all sound, as if he was blindfolded. He wished he had more to offer Dean with specifics.
"Believe me, I wish I could tell you more-"
"Could you tell who was screaming," Dean said, staring down at the water.
"Sounded like a female...that's all I could tell. Maybe it's not a premonition, Dean. Maybe it's just me freaking out and having dreams before being a dad? We don't know," Sam tried to console.
He thanked Sam for trying. Sure, it could have been all coincidence, but if they started around the time of the car accident that almost left himself immobile, and later almost ruined his marriage and life-it was just too much to be coincidence.
Dean asked if Bobby and him had any luck.
"No. I think, and I know you don't want to hear this, but I think we need to talk to her..."
"Sam-"
"No, Dean. Listen, we're not going to find anything out unless we talk to her. If you don't want to do it-"
"Sammy, no you won't. Look," he said, sighing and rubbing his eyes. "I'll do it. Tonight, I'll take her aside and let it all out. All right? You happy?"
"No, I'm not happy," Sam said, getting up in a huff. "If something is wrong, I'm not happy that I'm getting my way. This is just something that needs to happen-for all our sanity's sake."
He'd drink to that.
They were only a few towns over from his folk's cabin when Sonora's car started to sputter. The light was blinking, the alarm dinging throughout the car.
"Shit," she cursed, banging her hands on the steering wheel. "Guess we can't make it, we have to stop."
Sonora pulled the car over, making sure her lapis lazuli bracelet was secure on her wrist, before putting her sunglasses on and getting out of the car.
"I'm going in to grab a few things, you pump the gas," she ordered through the driver's side window.
"Yes, sir," he smiled and saluted, causing her to roll her eyes.
Dylan got out of the car, delighting in the little bit of stretching he could get. They were almost there. He'd get to see his dad, mom, brother and sister. Screw the random girl who'd died; he was more into seeing his family alive and well, as well as safe. They were safe.
Why wouldn't they be? Between his mom, dad, uncle and sister, they were a freakin' army.
He pumped the gas and waited-and waited.
Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty.
At about fifteen minutes late, he started to glance at his watch every few minutes. Then, at over twenty late, he couldn't stop staring at it.
Something in the air changed. Tension. Pain. Anger.
Something was very wrong.
Before he was only thinking about his family. Now, it was about his partner.
Sonora. Sonora. Sonora.
He rushed into the gas station at human speed.
"Hey," he addressed the two men with their back's turned behind the counter.
No answer.
"HEY!"
"What do you want," the cashier snapped.
"Listen," Dylan stared at the name embroidered on one of the shirts. "Ed. Did you see a girl come through here?"
"You mean that fox? Yeah, she hauled ass to the ladies' room," the man with the glasses answered.
"Thanks," he replied. "You didn't see me here."
"Pardon," Harry asked, shifting his gaze between Ed and Dylan.
Dyl stared steadily into their eyes, their pupils becoming large and wide as he began to influence their thoughts.
"You-both of you-didn't see me here or the girl. Stay here."
"Sure," Ed shrugged, going back to work.
Dylan darted to the women' restroom door. He didn't bother to knock, thinking it best to shockingly barge right in.
It was a typical multiple stalled, gas station bathroom. He visually scanned the area, hoping to find anything that would have revealed that someone had recently been in the space. All that he could see was the chipping linoleum tile and ancient commode, nothing seemingly important enough to take notice.
He checked underneath the stalls for any sign of patrons. No feet.
"Sonora," he whispered, pausing to see if he heard a response.
No answer.
"Sonora?"
Still nothing.
Dylan turned around, deciding to take a peek in the mens' bathroom.
There was a different feel coming from that room. Tension emanated from the room. Whatever was going on in there, it wasn't good. He braced himself for what he might find.
He walked in.
"Don't move."
A man stood on the other side of the restroom, one arm wrapped around Sonora's mid section, the other wrapped around her mouth. Her scream was muffled under the force of his hand. She struggled in his grasp, doing her best to push him away.
"Ow you stupid, bitch," he shrieked, as her canines poked through his hand. Blood dripped from both his injured hand and her lengthened fangs.
In the brief moment he let her go, she zipped back to where Dylan was poised.
"You okay," he whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll heal."
"You kids are dead," the man smiled with sinister intentions, wiping the blood off his hand, his own canines popping out from the smell of the liquid.
Dylan placed Sonora behind, putting himself in harm's way, his fierce protectiveness for her coming through.
"Stay away," Dylan commanded. The itching of his canines was almost unbearable within his gum-line, a sensation he had never felt in the heat of battle.
"Oh please, newbie," the vampire scoffed. "You've only been one for a few months, and your nosy little bitch had only been one for a hundred years? There's no way that either of you can beat me-and there's this."
He pulled out a gun and pointed it at Dylan, who didn't react. With an evil grin, the vampire shifted the gun and his intentions to Sonora.
'A gun? A gun can't hurt a vampi-'
Bang.
Sonora gasped, her hand instantaneously clutching her thigh. She released her leg to reveal the wound was bleeding-profusely.
"Dy-lan," she screeched, tumbled to the ground. He was there to snatch her before her head struck the blue tiled wall. As his hand grabbed onto her, another blast cut through the air, followed by a tremendous searing pain in his shoulder.
It was a torment he'd never felt before. He'd heard it described but never expected the explosion and tearing that ripped through his body.
He heard Sonora's muffled howling, though he wasn't sure if it was in response only her pain. Dylan slumped down against the wall under his dead weight, crashing to the floor before being caught by strong arms to his left.
"Dyl? Dylan, answer me," she ordered.
He muffled something that was reminiscent 'I'm alright,' but was more than likely an incoherent grumble.
"Dylan, babe, stay with me," she whispered.
He groaned as something was pressed down on his shoulder.
"Stay the fuck away," he heard her yell. "Why, Donovan?"
"Why not? Look, this situation is much bigger than the pissy little nest, or his godforsaken freak show of a family! You and your boy-toy just had to interfere, sticking your dainty little noses in places they are not welcome. We've come too far for you two to fuck it all up now. You're coming with me."
"You wanna bet," she hissed, the pain on his own arm becoming more intense.
"Yeah I do, $100 on the older, wiser, bigger vampire with the silver-tipped, vervain-infused wooden bullets for the win. Get up," he demanded.
Dylan was still discerning everything in a haze, his throbbing shoulder pulsing through his veins.
"I can't stand up," Sonora grunted, slipping down the tiled partition. "Maybe you should have thought about mobility before you shot me in the fucking leg, asshole."
"Well then get him up and use him for support," he added.
"He's really hurt, Don. He's bleeding very bad-"
The answer to her pleading was the click of a gun being cocked.
"Get him up or I will fucking make it worse."
She hissed at her own pain, shifting to lift him from her scatheless side. With a grunt, she placed his uninjured arm over her own shoulder.
"Come on," she grunted, standing up on one leg, lifting them both up. "Let me lean on you and you lean on me, got it?"
He fussed, his eyes opened in slits.
"Ladies first," their captor spoke.
Sonora pivoted them towards the door, reiterating that Dylan had to stay coherent.
"I need you right now," she whispered.
He gathered what strength he had, the vital fluid flowing down his arm, his shirt damp and clammy from it's expulsion. One foot in front of the other, he forced himself to keep going, maintaining a tight grip on Sonora with his intact arm. In that moment, he made a decision; if Donovan was to shoot again, he was going to get in front Sonora and push her out of harms way. He was worse off than she was; maybe it would give her a chance to get to safety.
"Get in," the elder vampire ordered, followed promptly by the sliding of a van door.
He scooched in face-first onto the dusty van floor, groaning as his shoulder grazed the uneven floor.
"It's okay," Sonora reiterated as she moaned from her own injury. She skid in beside him, rolling him over, placing his head on her good thigh.
"Let's just hope he doesn't bleed out by the time we get to where we are going. Shall we," Donovan scoffed, slamming the door shut. The engine to the van hesitated briefly before fully turning over. With a lurch, they were off to some unknown destination as hostages.
Dylan looked up to Sonora, her eyes glazed over-or were his own they ones that were blurry? It was hard to distinguish.
"I'm going to keep talking to you, so you stay up, alright," she smiled at him. "We'll get you some blood when we get to where we need too. Until then, we need to stop the bleeding."
She bent back and took off her shirt, leaving her in a white camisole, her darker bra showing through underneath. Sonora took her top and wrapped it tight around his injury.
He hissed at the strain.
"Goddamn," he griped. "Take it easy on there. Christ."
"Sorry, we need it tight to alleviate the blood flow as much as possible. The silver and wood pierce the flesh and make it unable to heal well and the vervain just makes it worse."
"How are you," he whispered.
"I won't lie, it hurts like a bitch, but I think I'll be fine once I get some blood in me. I stopped the bleeding with my belt. Oh yeah, by the way, always where a belt when you can for these types of situations," she managed a grin. "Probably should have told you about that before we left, huh?"
He chuckled a little, remarking that it indeed would have been good information in their current state.
Dylan asked Sonora if she had any clue of where they were heading; she had no idea. There was no place up north that the nest had procured as a hideout, so any other vampire hotspot was news to her. She was just as clueless as he was. On top of that, she was afraid. If her shaking body didn't say it, her aura did. Dylan could feel it, the usually cool and calm girl was scared shitless. She draped her arm protectively over his neck, careful not to injure him more.
He reached up, taking her hand in his, giving it a quick squeeze. It was a gesture to say he was going to be okay-they were going to be all right. If only he believed it himself.
"Is that my shirt, Mom?"
Abby turned around, biting her lip in guilt.
"Do you mind, hun," she asked, smoothing out the deep plum tank top. "It's really cute."
"Nah, I don't mind," she smiled, plopping on the bed as her mom got ready. It was a couple's date night, the last before they were to head back home. It really stood for the last chance for random drunkenness and reckless, passionate abandon for the legal adults. She'd be sure to keep her headphones on that night, lest she wanted to hear some hard core boot knockin' from Gwen and Cas' room. She praised god that her parent's had their own love nest far away from her.
Her mother grinned down at her before unexpectedly jumping on the bed, forcing April to roll over onto the bed. They laughed together as April righted herself.
She was instantly in her mother's arms. April responded in turn, putting her arms around her mom's shoulders.
"I love you, baby," Abby said, her fingers combing through her daughter's hair. "The day you and your brothers were born were the happiest moments of my life."
"I love you too, Mom," she whispered, surprised at her mother's candor. Sure, Abby Winchester was never one to hold back emotion, but it had been a while since her mom had uttered such sentiments to her so outwardly.
She pulled back, her mom's eyes glistening with sadness.
"Mom, everything all right," she asked, pushing the hair out of her mom's eyes.
"Yeah," Abby wiped the tears from her eyes. "This time up here has just been great. I don't think we've had this much time...normal time, as a family for a long time. I think with all the craziness that was going on, we needed it."
"Yeah," April agreed.
She studied at her mom's face, her makeup now down under her eyes. April shot off the bed and quickly grabbed her makeup kit, moving to sit back in front of her mother.
"Whatcha doing," Abby laughed as April blotted under her parent's eyes.
"Your makeup is all jacked. I'm going to fix it and you'll look hot as hell. Trust me, I'm a pro," April winked.
Abby gave in and let April re-do her makeup. It was weird having the roles reversed, finally having something to give her mom in return-even if it was just cosmetic tips.
"Oh come on and dance with me," Abby said after a few shots at the bar.
"No," Dean smiled. "There's no way."
"Please, baby," she smirked.
"Nope. You know me, I'm not a dancin' type of guy. I'm more of a lets-get-toasted-and-make-out type of bar guy. I think after ten years you would have seen that," he remarked.
"I knew that after about ten seconds. I just thought maybe you'd man up," she teased.
Nope. He was the same guy he always was; chugging back his El Sol and staying put at the pub table.
"Fine. Cas?"
"Sorry, Ab, I'm not much of a dancer myself," Cas smiled, his hand nervously running through his hair. "We didn't really-dance where I came from."
"Fine, no biggie. Gwenie, honey pie, it's just me and you," Abby yelled across the bar.
Gwen threw her hands up and shrugged from the other side of the room by the mp3 jukebox. She put in some money and punched in some numbers.
The first notes of "Shoot to Thrill" came over the speakers. Good song.
Abby turned back around towards him, putting her hair up in a ponytail and signaling for him to come out with her.
Once again, he shook his head no.
She stuck out her tongue and ran out to join Gwen, who was already on the dance floor, getting down with her bad self.
Abby moved on the floor with her vampire friend with grace, in perfect tune with the rhythm of the song. Every now and again, she'd give him a look over her shoulder. It was always out of the corner of her eye, like she was saying 'are you watching this?' It was a little game she liked to play, call it the pre-game. It was foreplay in and of its self.
"Abby looks very calm, like she's having fun," Cas said before taking a sip of his beer. "I haven't seen her so very carefree in a long time."
A 'yeah' was all Dean could muster. Carefree appearing or not, she was still hiding something. He started to tear the label off his beer.
The two guys hung out while their girls danced on and it wasn't until many AC/DC, Bon Jovi, .38 Special and Bad Company songs later, he decided it was time to speak with her. It was just eating at him too much.
He got up and pushed his way through the crowd, getting to Abby as she rocked out to "Feel Like Making Love."
She spun around and grabbed him around the neck, pressing her mouth firmly against his, her tongue gently caressing his lower lip.
He gazed down at her, trying to be unswayed by her flirtatious advances.
"We need to talk," he leaned in, whispering in her ear during the loud music.
"Who's we," she asked in her intoxication.
"Me. You. Talk. Now," he gestured towards the back of the bar.
"Fine."
He gently took her hand, leading to the rear of the building. They stood together in the far left corner. Dean struggled to find the right words. Right or not, he had held them in for too long. Before he knew it, they were spewing out on their own accord.
"What's going on with you," he asked.
"What do you mean?" She looked him dead in the eye.
"You know what I mean."
"No, I don't believe I do," she got defensive, crossing her arms over her chest.
Talking wasn't about everything that happened wasn't going to get them anywhere. It was time for Plan B.
Dean pulled on the silver talisman resting on her chest, the one she used to shield her mind and stop herself from delving into people's business. He reached around her neck, unlatching the clasp and held it in his hand.
"Look," he ordered, pointing towards his forehead.
She tilted her head at him in confusion, then her eyes widened before turning into slits. Abby was seeing the big picture though his eyes. From the night of prom all the way up until his conversation with Sam; it was all out on the table.
"You went through my stuff," she asked, her voice quivering with uncertainty.
"Well you left it kinda out there...if you meant to hide it, you did a shitty job. You know, it's kinda my job to find things that others don't-"
"No, it's not! You said no more hunting! Your job, Dean, is you run a fucking hole-in-the-wall garage! How dare you go through my stuff...and give some of the pages to Bobby? You had no right," she pushed him a little on his chest.
"What's so goddamn important in there?"
"I don't know," she answered.
"Come on, Ab! No more fucking around! What is in that book?"
"I. Don't. Know," she yelled, causing a few people to turn around and pause in their activities. Their altercations was arousing suspicions from the regular bar patrons.
"Oh, sonofabitch, come on! Yes you do!"
"No I don't," she spat, her fangs just on the brink of appearing. That had only happened once before in a fight between them. They only just came out when she was on the edge of losing control.
"Fine, you don't," he recanted. "But if you don't know, why the fuck hide it? Huh?"
"I couldn't make out the first part, ok? There was nothing in there. That book that you so unceremoniously snooped through? That was my mother's! It was her journal-she left it to me."
Oh.
"Your dad left you his journal, and it's important to you; his lasting words are important to you. I wouldn't' ever, and I mean never, just take his book from you and make copies of if for someone!"
"I-I didn't kno-
"No, you didn't know but, hey, your 'hunter' instinct kicked in and you investigate me; just like any other vampire right? Am I right?"
More people were starting to take notice.
"Honey, calm down. You have to stay quiet. Yelling vampire in here is like yelling fire in a crowed theater, alright? Let's go outside."
She pushed passed him, walking out first, Dean following close behind.
"Hey is everything ok," Gwen approached them on the way out.
"Fine," Abby muttered.
They walked out towards the parked Impala, she choosing to lean against the car, her arms crossed, her head tilted back to gaze at the stars.
"All the goddamn secrets and lying...I knew we were never going to get passed it," she complained.
"It's the nature of our lives I guess," he admitted, resting against the car beside her. There was a strain between them, something he was used to with other girls he'd been with previously. It was the whole 'part of my life isn't for you' feel. How could that be after all that time? It was their lives. Without that part of his existence, he would have never known about her. "I didn't mean to snoop. I just found it and I saw the language on it and thought that you were in trouble."
"If I were in trouble, you'd know," she sighed.
"No, I wouldn't. See there's this thing where we both like to keep people from our problems-and I'm not blaming you for it. I'm the same way. I just wouldn't want you in a situation you couldn't get out of."
She began to laugh.
"Oh, Dean. There is never a situation I couldn't get out of," she smiled, keeping her eyes on the stars. "Beautiful night. The stars out here are amazing."
"The moon is getting darker. Have you noticed? Sammy says there's a Dark Moon this week."
"I'm sure there is."
She lowered her view and stared down to her feet, drawing circles with the tips of her boots in the sand, her brow furrowed in contemplation.
"The first part of the book was my mom's diary," she admitted, their previous argument a stalemate. "It was a scratchy history at best, with pages burnt out halfway through, as you probably discovered."
Abby slumped over a little more, her etchings in the gravel becoming more elaborate. She always did like to doodle when she was thinking of what to say.
"The rest were spells. Spells for something. Honestly, I have no idea what the hell they meant, Dean," she revealed, looking him straight in the eye. "That's the truth. I have no idea what they were for, but all I know is my mom was either a hunter or a priestess or...something. I have no idea and I have no clue what is in that book. Can I read it? Yes. Do I get it? No. I don't understand the point of the journal at all."
Dean leaned farther against the car, finding himself observing the crisp white flickering stars against the dark sky. Why the hell didn't he just ask before? Why did he think it was best to investigate?
" 'Cause that's who you are, Dean. Deep down, even though you hate to admit it, you are a hunter. Your gut tells you to follow your instincts and you can tell yourself not to, but you can't help it. It's saved you and Sammy on numerous occasions; why wouldn't you trust it? I guess it might have just gone overboard with everything that has been going on lately," she smiled. "You can relax, I'm fine. You don't need to protect me. I've been doing well for a few hundred years."
"Oh sure," he smirked, putting his arm around her shoulders. "You say that, but I can count at least oh...five times I've saved your ass?"
She rested against him, nuzzling him in the neck.
"I'm sorry I made you upset," she apologized.
"Nah, I wasn't that upset. I was worried, is all. I like you in one piece, ya know," he kissed the top of her head. "I love you."
"Love you too."
She glanced down at her watch; 9:40pm, the date mockingly displaying June 6th to the left.
"Hey, I think we should get going," she lamented. "I'm getting a headache."
"You, ok," he said, holding her head between strong hands.
"I'll be fine. Just get Cas and Gwen. I'll wait here."
He smirked and ran back inside the bar.
The cellphone in Abby's pocket vibrated. She casually walked around to the passenger side of the car, trying to discreetly pull the phone out of the pocket of her dark denim jeans. There were only numbers and symbols: a GPS signal location with the time 11pm. Yeah, she didn't need the time reminder; she was well aware.
She shoved the cellphone back in her pocket without bringing attention to herself. Apparently since Hannah would not be able to come and collect her that night, being deceased and all, they expected her to get to that location on her own.
Abby sat in the car, watching out for Dean and the happy couple to come out. Moments later, they exited together, Dean and Cas helping a very drunk Gwen out and got her safely to the vehicle.
"Come on, Gwen," Cas chuckled, lifting her into the backseat as she giggled.
"Crazy kids," Dean muttered, getting into the drivers seat and heading back to the cabins.
The ride back was quick and quiet, with Dean concentrating on driving and Cas cradling a very woozy Gwen in his arms. Guess there was no getting it on for them that evening.
After about a fifteen minute drive, they pulled into the driveway. 10:00 pm.
"See you guys in the morning. Come one, Gwenie," Cas grunted as he lifted Gwen in his arms and carried her down the hill to the larger cabin.
Abby decided that, before she'd leave, she'd say goodbye to her kids-at least for a while. First, she had to say her goodbye to Dean.
She took his hand and walked with him up to their cabin, the idea of it being their own little piece of heaven. It was a memory for him to keep of her and she hoped that he didn't take it the wrong way. Abby was going to find a way out of her deal, but until then, he would need something to keep her close. This little haven was it.
They made their way up the short hill to the door, she entering first and Dean following behind.
"Last night here," he smiled adorably.
He didn't know how right on the nose he was.
"Yeah, it is," she said, her back pressed against the wall of the living room.
He continued to smile and she couldn't take it anymore. She didn't have time to screw around.
She zoomed across the room and pushed him onto the rug over the wooden floor. He laughed, commenting on why she was so eager.
"I love you," she kissed his neck, "do I need any other reason?"
"Nope," he sat up, "seems like a good reason to me."
Dean lifted her off the floor, straddling her in his lap. She yanked off his shirt as he fumbled to remove hers. Fumbling wasn't the right word, he was failing. Abby sighed and pushed him back down, carefully pulling up her shirt. Last thing she wanted before she left was one pissed off daughter, angry about her article of clothing getting ripped during a torrid love-fest by her parents.
Finally down to her bra, Dean was in very familiar territory.
Placing fierce kisses up her shoulder to her collarbone, he massaged her back, quickly removing her fabric shackles. He tossed it nonchalantly to the side of the room, starting the inevitable pile of clothes that was soon to be finished.
"Dean," she moaned as his hands worked her breasts, kneading and feeling the soft flesh.
"Yes," he smiled, reveling in his ability to make her say his name with lust. "It's me. What, were you thinking it was someone else?"
She growled at his joking, pressing him to the ground at vampire speed and ripping off his pants, leaving his completely nude.
Straddling his naked body, her own still wearing her heels and jeans, she smiled down above him, her hands resting on his chest.
"Nope, it's you," she answered, playfully biting her lower lip.
He smirked and pushed her down, feverishly undoing her pants, his hands pushing her clothing down while his lips pursued her own. His mouth met hers, tangling together, his tongue caressing her own. She met his loving assault with equal passion.
His hands pushed down her pants, guiding the fabric down her thighs and passed her calves. He muttered against her lips about stupid shoes before tossing them off her feet, finally getting her free of her denim clutches.
"Nice work, Winchester," she laughed. "You've hunted the evil denim monster and won. I think it's time to celebrate."
Dean smiled her smile and she memorized it. The way his lip curled up just a tad, the earnest reflection of true happiness, the mischievous gleam in those green irises. She would take every bit of it with her and keep it forever.
He sat up, lifting her up onto his lap, positioning her.
She hovered over him, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms wrapped around his shoulders.
"I love you, Dean. I always will."
He kissed her lips and pushed into her, both of the them moaning with ecstasy. It was that first moment, that moment of ultimate singularity of being, that really got to her.
She gasped in pleasure as they moved together, his face buried in her neck, sucking and kissing the skin at the nape. Her hands moved up his back up into his hair, messing with his brown locks, playfully tugging with gentleness.
For the first time that evening, she wasn't keeping track of time as they ground against each other, their hands roaming over each other's bodies.
They writhed in sweaty ecstasy, her hair sticking to the back of her neck and shoulders. She licked off some perspiration running down Dean's neck, her move met by a happy whimper.
No words were spoken, the only sounds pleasurable moans and skin meeting skin.
She smiled as her body, tight on a wire, finally gave way, the wonderful pulsations throbbing throughout her body.
Her head titled back, as her voice matched the feelings in her body as Dean released inside her, his own grunts matching her own.
Together, they slowed but did not retract from one another. Dean slumped backwards, pulling her down on top of him, his arms wrapped snuggly around her body.
She beamed against his chest, her head resting comfortably on his damp skin.
Abby's eyes fluttered shut, her head engulfed in the rhythm of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart. In. Out. In. Out. Fast at first then slowing down back to a normal rate.
In. Out. In. Out.
Dean kissed the top of her head, one hand placed on the chilled small of her back, the other playing with the tangles in her hair.
In. Out. In. Out.
She was in happiness, in awe of the man holding her in his arms. The mere fact that they were together in that moment, after every obstacle they had been through, was in it's own right a miracle. Perhaps it was only meant to last that long.
She pondered that thought as her eyes drifted shut.
Dean watched as she slept on him, his arm bent to cradle his head, the other running up and down his wife's spine. After that sexy romp, she was tuckered out.
He laid back, reveling in the quiet calm of it all. It was moments like that he missed when he was a kid. There was never a time to just 'turn off;' he always had to be on his game to protect his family.
For some unknown reason, in that moment, he felt he could let his guard down.
A sound to his side gathered his attention.
"Sonofabitch," he whispered as he tried to reach his jeans just off to the side.
The sound continued.
Finally, he grabbed the hem of his discarded pants. He pulled his cellphone out of his back pocket.
Nope, that wasn't it.
The noise kept on going. Not wanting anything to wake up Abby, he carefully got up replacing himself with a pillow and blanket. She moved slightly during the intrusion, but almost instantly fell back into deep slumber.
"That's my girl," he smiled, moving a piece of hair from her face. "Damn that stupid noise."
He searched the pile of strewn clothing, the ones they had chucked far to the other side of the room.
Awesome, he found it. It was the vibration of her cellphone.
He took it and gave it a curious looksy. She set her alarm for 10:45pm? Why?
She had mentioned about maybe leaving the bar at a certain time; maybe that was set as a reminder?
Either way, he shut it off. If there was any night to let her sleep, it was that.
He happily laid back down beside her, letting sleep take him as well.
It was dark and cold. Very cold.
"You still awake, Winchester?"
"I think so," he muttered. "Can't sleep."
"Me neither," Sonora said, her hand on his own. "I'm too cold."
"How's the wound?"
She mentioned that it was healing, but from the tone in her voice, it wouldn't' heal well without the necessary sustenance.
He had no clue where they were; he hadn't been very conscious when they had arrived. Wherever they were currently being held was pitch black, there was not one inch of light coming from any direction. There was not even one that would indicate the location of a door.
The floor was bare and damp, from what he wasn't sure. For all he knew, it could have been soaked in his own blood.
It was cold. No, cold was too generous. It was fucking freezing.
He could feel his body tremor, doing its best to keep warm. From the sounds of Sonora's teeth chattering, she was having the same issue. But, that cold...in June? No, it couldn't have been the weather. Whatever was causing their sudden loss of heat had to be from their injuries. Were-were they dying? Was that what Becky felt like, as he was mistakingly taking her very life away?
He pushed the thought aside. He couldn't let himself go that dark, no, not when there was someone in the same predicament counting on him and vice versa.
"Come here," he said.
"Where's here," she asked.
"Feel my aura," he said, intentionally pushing out his energy towards her, something for her psychic abilities to pull on to.
Her palms slapped against the wet floor as she slid towards him. Slowly, she found him. Sonora's hand sought his in the darkness.
"Now what," she asked, clutching his hand.
"Lay beside me. It will keep us warm," he said, surprised at the pause in his own suggestion. After all, it was strictly for heat. Nothing more.
As she found his body and nestled beside him, her breathing sure against his neck, his good arm wrapped around her, pressing her body to his own as much as he could in his weak state. In actuality, it was more than that and he damn well knew better. He cared about Sonora. She was a true friend to him, one of the few he had left...and they were going to die in that room. The room would most likely, very shortly, become their tomb.
His family would mourn him, he'd have people at his funeral-but who would be at hers?
They laid there for some time but he couldn't be sure how long. They were encased in deafening silence.
"Who would have thought it would be 185 years and it would be all over, right," she said with an air of sarcasm. "167 of it living alone."
He didn't press her harder, her body shaking next to him a mixture of chill and tears. Dylan's hand lightly stroked her arm, non-verbally trying to comfort her.
"My mom and dad raised us in the Georgia colony. I've-I've never told anyone this but now seems as good of a time as any, right?"
Dylan protested, stopping her mid-thought, explaining that she didn't have to go any further, but she insisted.
"No one knows me, Dyl. No one. I came to the nest seeking sanctuary and a job, not explaining myself to anyone. My mother was Native American and my father was white. We lived with my five siblings in a small house on the outskirts of Macon. It was simple but full of life. There was a world of wonder out there for a kid, so many places to explore and to have fun. It was really amazing," she paused, groaning from the pain in her leg. "One day, we came back from playing, me and my younger sister, and-and the house was on fire. There was blood everywhere. Father was dead on the front porch, my other siblings dead across the yard, their bodies being piled up on a makeshift funeral pyre. My mother was still bleeding on the front porch, a man standing over her. She looked at us and then he turned and his eyes...they were dark, his mouth was covered in blood. I couldn't stand to look."
She paused and he gave her time.
"My mother yelled for us to run and god knows we tried, but before we could get more than a few feet, he caught us. He grabbed both of us, biting my sister first before he bit into me. I can remember the initial pain, then nothing. I remember him putting me on the ground and I stared into my sister's eyes. Hers were glazed over. My vision started to blur and-and the world got foggy. Everything sounded underwater. The colors in the world didn't match what it remembered. I was dying."
He ventured to guess she was mentioning those aspects because, currently she had to be going through the same thing. Dylan could relate. His mind was scrambled, he found it hard to concentrate on anything but the throbbing of his shoulder.
"Whoever it was left us there to die. He just left us to rot. I remember laying there, hoping it would just be over soon. I was in pain, the punctures in my neck seeping into the damp grass below. I remember the pain from my dress being too tight; I couldn't breathe. Then, there was rustling in the bushes. A band of Okmulgee-Creek Indians appeared from out of nowhere. They scouted the scene. At that point I knew we were dead.-like, deader than dead. But, instead, they bent down and tied up our wounds, smiling upon us. Then, he bit into his wrist and fed me his blood. They turned us; me, my sister and my mother."
He asked what happened to her after that. She explained that that particular band of the tribe were vampires, but they just wanted to live in peace. They had been hunting down the vampire that killed her family and, in guilt, they felt they needed to rectify the situation by having the survivors continue living.
"We stayed with them. We fit right in; my mother was Creek. So, we blended well, learning the language for the skeptical ones to accept us. All and all, life was good. That was...until they cracked down on the Indian Relocation Act. The government uprooted us and forced us to walk hundreds, no thousands, of miles. Even though we originally weren't part of them, we felt like we were. We walked with our tribe. Little did we know, part of it was a test. A special band of soldiers kept track of those that seemed to walk faster, walk farther and were surviving better on little amounts of food. They kept breaking down the groups. People would die and you'd have to leave them. Others were taken off down different roads. Finally there were only around 20 of us left; the 20 that happened to be vampires. It was a roundup. The soldiers just also happened to be hunters. It was a hunter named Ezra Campbell who ordered the slaughter. Maybe you've heard of him-he was your great-great-great-great grandfather."
Dylan froze. He knew of his family history, but didn't realize that the hunters in his family were that savage. How could they just round up those people and not know who was a vampire or not? Was figuring out who had a longer endurance a significant test to determine who was supernatural or not?
He dared to ask: were there any humans caught up in the massacre?
She stayed silent. Within her stillness was the answer. He felt her sadness, her loss at the death of people she had grown fond of-and the death of her family.
"They didn't ask. They just started shooting, stabbing, slashing with their military swords. They butchered them all. My first instinct was to run. Fight or flight, right? I ran as fast as I could, the world a blur around me. I-I somehow got away. I have no idea why they didn't get me. I crouched down in some brush for hours. By the time I got back to see what happened, all that was left was smoldering ashes. My mother's and sister's jewelry were among the embers. They were dead and I was alone," she stopped, and quivered close to tears. "I didn't use to be so cold and collected, Dylan. There was on soldier that I talked to while we were walking, a Daniel Winchester, Ezra's son. Before the tragedy, we got close-too close for my mom's comfort. In secret, I opened up to him; I told him things-and it ended up biting me right in the ass. I got my tribe killed." He was going to tell her it's not her fault, but couldn't bring himself to say the words. After all, after Becky passed away, he had gotten fucking sick of people tell him the same mantra. The only person that could change one's perspective on that aspect was the individual living with the guilt.
Dylan ran has hand over her arm, caressing it. She nuzzled her face into his neck, keeping it there. They stayed that way for some time, her soft breathe caressing his neck between shivers.
It was somber, but at least if they were going to die, it would be together.
Help! Help! Help!
He gasped in pain, the shouts in his head and the feeling in his gut ringing with alarm bells.
"Dylan, what's wrong," Sonora shook beside him.
There was only one person's mind that could give him such a reaction.
"Something's wrong with my sister."
April laid on her bed, her eyes studying the ceiling, contemplating what it would like to be back home after everything that had happened. She wouldn't be graduating with her class. After all the absences she had in the past year, she would have to go to summer school to finish it up. Good times.
What was she going to do about Jesse? She cared for him, but-she wasn't ready yet. There was still a part of her grieving. Everyday, it got a little easier, so at least it was going in the right direction. If she was lucky, perhaps Jesse would wait for her. After all, they both had eternity.
She rolled over, trying to break her insomnia.
What time was it anyway?
11:15 pm. She'd been trying to sleep for a good hour. Maybe she should get up and do something. Perhaps going for a run would tire her out.
In mid-thought, a clammy hand was placed over her mouth.
'Don't move or we will fucking kill your brother,' the voice said in her head.
April turned and saw her brother Jamie, peacefully sleeping in his bed across the loft. She couldn't do anything to hurt him.
She nodded in response to the culprit, replying that she would behave.
The hands grabbing her were stronger, stronger than any she had dealt with before. They clearly belonged to something supernatural.
She was slung over a shoulder as the kidnapper easily jumped out the second floor window of the cabin onto the ground with no injury. There was a sharp sting in her neck. April tried to keep her eyes open to gain perspective on where she was going; how many turns? How many minutes to get to landmarks? It was stuff her parents tried to prepare her for in that particular situation. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't do it.
The moonlight shining off of the grass and her kidnappers shoes were the last thing she saw before she slipped into unconsciousness.
Abby shifted, feeling Dean's arms wrapped around her. She peered down to find that he had covered them both in a blanket and brought them pillows. He'd also lit a fire in the fireplace. It was pretty cold for a June night. Must be a Wisconsin thing.
She stretched her hands out in front of her, finding them cramped from being in the same position too for long.
Her phone vibrated. Good. She woke up before the alarm. She had set it for 15 minutes before, giving her a few minutes to kiss her children goodbye as they slept and enough time to make her way to the coordinates dictated by the text message.
She squeezed Dean's hand. He rolled over, facing the fire and away from her. He was too adorable for words. She gave his butt a love-tap before getting her phone.
Abby picked her jeans off the floor and they were not where she tossed them-or at least not where she thought she tossed them. It was hard to tell in the reckless abandon of lovemaking.
She searched the pocket. No phone? Why was her phone out of her pants?
Following the sound of the vibrations, she found it on the side table next to the couch. How the hell did it get all the way over there?
A chill ran through her. Something wasn't right. She knew with everything in her being that she didn't put it there.
She picked it up. 1 new text message sent at 11:15 pm. 11:15 pm?
'You're late. We have your daughter.'
Her heart sank.
"No," she murmured, her hand covering her mouth in horror.
How could she? How could she have slept through that; she would have heard it.
"No. NO. NO," she said louder, her body shaking with sadness and rage.
'I have to go. I have to go now!'
No time for goodbyes anymore. Her only thought was she had to do everything to procure the safe return of her daughter.
"Hey you ok," Dean groaned, stretching.
She didn't reply. Abby gathered her clothes at vampire speed, putting them on as fast as she could. Grabbing her phone, she made her way to the door.
"Hey, hello," Dean got her attention, rising up from the floor.
She didn't answer. Abby had to leave right then or else-
"Abby," he stepped in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. "Where are you going?"
"I have somewhere to go. Please get out of my way," she asked.
"Not until you tell me where you are going," he said, blocking her exit.
"Why did you turn off my alarm," she stoically questioned.
"I just thought you should get some sleep," Dean innocently answered. "You look exhausted. Maybe you should just cancel your plans tonight and get some-"
"I can't cancel my plans, Dean. These plans cannot be pushed aside. I'm sorry."
"Sorry for?"
She gasped in tears, pulling him to her in a kiss. All the passion and sadness she felt came out against his lips.
"I love you," she whispered.
She turned around at vampire speed and jumped out the closed window, the shards of glass nicking her strong flesh.
In the distance, she could hear Dean calling for her. Abby didn't dare turn around or look back. She just ran, focusing on the GPS device on her phone. Come hell or high water, she had to get there.
Dean struggled to put his bottoms on as he ran down the hill towards the larger cabin, his amulet bouncing against his bare chest as he made his way.
Fuck. Shit. Damn it.
He swore in his head as he jumped over rocks and twigs, not bothering in his frantic state to look for the path.
"Sammy," he yelled as he made his way through the door.
He ran into his brother's and sister-in-law's bedroom, not bothering to knock.
"Sam, get up. We need to roll."
"Dean, what's going on," he said, covering a semi-nude Ruby, who laid in bed rolling her eyes at the intrusion.
"Dean! Get the fuck out," she yelled.
"Sorry," Dean said, standing in the hall, pacing, running his hand through his hair.
Sam appeared in the hall in a t-shirt and boxers.
"Dean, what's wrong?"
"She's gone, Sammy. Abby left."
"Left," his brother looked at him sideways. "Care to elaborate?"
"Um...left as in jumped out the window and took off left," Dean snapped. "We need to go after her."
"Left," Bobby said groggily from the couch, "What's goin' on boys?"
Dean explained it to Bobby, finding Cas and Gwen joining the conversation. Gwen made the point that Jamie was sleeping up in the loft; they needed to keep their voices down. They pondered in silence, trying to figure out what the hell to do next.
He had to admit, his heart was pounding. It just wasn't like his wife to do what she did.
Gwen was already in planning mode. She said that Dean, Sam, Cas and herself should try to track her down. She believed that her being a vampire would be able to track her friend's scent.
"We need one vamp here, just in case there is something after Abby. April can stay here with Bobby. You can still handle a gun, can't you," she addressed Bobby.
"I may be old, but I ain't an idjit," he smiled. "I got this covered."
Gwen quietly made her way up to the loft, not wanting to wake Jamie, but she had to get April up and about.
Dean watched as the vampire zipped up the stairs, leaving the rest of them in the living room waiting.
It was quiet before he heard the gasp.
That couldn't be good.
Gwen darted back down the stairs, her face full of fear.
"She's gone."
Dean grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes.
"What do you mean gone?"
"She's-she's not in bed. The window's wide open, the screen knocked out. She's gone," she hyperventilated.
"Maybe she snuck out," Sam surmised.
Gwen shook her head.
"No. No. There was something else...footprints. She didn't leave on her own accord."
Dean's color sunk from his face as he realized his greatest fear: his wife was gone and some bastard had kidnapped his daughter.
He headed out the door instantly, his brother and friends calling after him.
She looked down at her phone. Yep. She was at her destination.
It was nothing special, just some random spot in the middle of the woods.
"Ok, I'm here," she yelled, out of breathe from her run and her emotions. "I'm here!"
Nothing. Even though she was in the center of a forest, there wasn't a living sound. Not a crack of a twig. Not a rustle in the bushes. No birds. No scurrying. Nada.
It was eerie.
"COME ON! YOU HAVE ME! GIVE ME MY DAUGHTER," she screamed.
She stood in her spot, turning around the permitter, searching for any sign of life.
"You're late, little girl," a female voice replied.
Abby quickly turned towards the voice, unable to find its source.
"I know. It was an accident," she explained.
"Well-accidents do happen," the voice happily exclaimed.
Abby stood, her hands trembling, doing her best not to show fear.
"Please-please give me back my daughter."
A pause.
"No. I think not-not yet anyway. You'll get her back, when we get what we want," the female stated in the shadows.
What did she mean; they had Abby. She was surrendering herself; game over.
"Perhaps you are giving yourself up, Abigail, but you are only a key to open a door. We're not done yet."
Had-had she just re-
"Read your mind? Of course. You might say it's...genetic."
A whizzing sound cut through the air and a pinch hit her directly in the spine.
Abby gasped and fell to the ground, her head turned to the side, her vision going in and out. Just before she fell unconscious, she say a figure step out of the shadows.
No, she had to be hallucinating, but there she was.
A dark, elaborate cloak flowed behind her in the darkness, the hood partially shielding her face from view. Her delicately pale hands pushed back her hood, as she signaled for her two male companions to pick Abby off the ground. Her dark eyes met hers, her smile forever the same.
"Mom?"