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 fiction. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. The original stories were developed using SPN episode content up until 02/11/10 and this one may include anything up through 2019. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 15, though my story took its turn after SPN Season 4. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and "Bound." This story takes place where Prelude left off and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes.

She sat on the front porch, watching Jamie practice his pitching into the net. He was going to try out for fall ball, and tryouts were next month in August. It was good for him to have a distraction. April could use one herself. So far, it was turning out to be a long and lonely summer. April looked up from her phone periodically to give him a thumbs up. Her twin was busy on a hunt in Missouri and was going to be home later than anticipated. At least he gave the courtesy of a heads up, as opposed to her father. He'd been gone for a month, having gone weeks with no word. If it weren't for her uncle, she wouldn't even know that he was still alive.

"April, I'm going to go in and have lunch and take a quick shower and head over to Dan's," Jamie announced. "Is it alright if I spend the night there?"

"Yeah, as long as I have their phone number, and you have your phone, it's fine with me. Do you need a ride?"

"No, I'll bike. Thanks, sis!" He raced passed her, slamming the front screen door before bounding up the steps to the bathroom.

When the hell did he get so grown up? More worrisome, when in the hell had she become her mother?

After he had left, waving bye as he rode down their suburban street to his sleepover, she cleaned up the dirty dishes and clothes he had left all over the house. Finally done, she settled back onto the porch swing with her phone, enjoying the setting summer sun and the extended daylight. She knew soon enough, fall would come, and early darkness was coming again. Now she knew why her mom preferred Florida, she sadly smiled. Holy crap. She had over a hundred messages from her high school friends over the last month and half that she had yet to answer. So many 'I'm so sorry' notes, and she just wasn't having it. She couldn't take it.

She stared at her phone, waiting for a reply from either her brothers or uncle. The family was all that mattered now—they needed to be safe. That was the only thing keeping her mind from unraveling. She needed to have control over something. If that meant she was going to act as the central command for her family, so be it.

"Is the lady of the house at home," a voice drawled.

"I guess I'm the lady now, yeah," she didn't look up from her phone. "So, what are you sellin'?"

"I'm not selling anything–-"

"Okay, then bye."

"Look, I crawled out of charred rubble, fed on animals, including rodents, for weeks, just so I could walk and hitchhike to get here, so can you just drop your damn phone and look at me?!"

Fed on rodents? Okay, weirdo, you don't know who you are messing with.

"Just look up, dammit!"

Now she was irritated. She rolled her eyes and glanced up and immediately dropped her phone on the porch, shattering the screen. Wes leaned casually against the porch post, looking as gorgeous as ever. His brown hair was a little lighter than she remembered and long; it was now skimming down his cheeks. But those dark obsidian eyes and sensual mouth, including that devilish half-smile, were the same. Wes.

Wes closed his eyes, smiling and shaking his head in amusement. "Guess I should you get one of those screen protectors," he joked, pointing to her now broken phone on the porch.

"No, no, you died," she stood up and shook her head, shutting her eyes. April hadn't been getting a lot of sleep. She kept dreaming about her mother, and not in the right way. It was the same dream and always ended the same way–-with her mother's blood coating her hands or her hands stretching for Wes's, just out of reach. Maybe this was all due to a lack of sleep? She had read that it was a form of torture and that it resulted in all sorts of things like hallucinations. That had to be it. She just created an illusion.

"Almost but not quite dead," he admitted with a grin. "My arm is pretty messed up, but I'm here in the flesh."

"How," she cried, finally tiptoeing over to him.

He couldn't help but blur over to her, grabbing her with his one strong arm. He was real. She held onto him so tight he had to ask her to let go.

"My arm, hun," Wes hissed, shifting over to one side. The part of his arm exposed was covered in scaly blisters; the rest was wrapped in some sort of bandage and cast. It was odd why it hadn't healed in a month. "Whatever was in those smoke bombs that your family tossed in, plus the fire—it was a real bitch. It won't heal right. I went to a friend I know in Milwaukee on the way who used to be a doctor before he became one of us. He did the best he could."

"But, how are you freakin' here," she said, brushing the hair out of his face. "I saw Jenny pull you back."

"Jesse," he smiled sadly, before continuing in a whisper. "He saw the open door, the one we had come up from, and he tossed me down there...and blocked the door. He held Jenny off. It was just as the fire spread, and my arm was still out of the door—before Jesse sealed it. He saved my life."

Her heart broke at the memory of her begging Jesse to go back in. She had inevitably signed his death certificate. And in the end, Jesse, true to his word, still managed to do what he said he was going to do for her; he saved Wesley.

"So, I stayed down there for a while. It was so hot above from the fire, and I had to wait quite a few days. I had to crawl out of several feet of rubble, and lived off of woodland critters for a bit. I stuck around because I wasn't sure if everyone was gone. Honestly, I don't know if anyone made it out. Plus, I wasn't strong enough to use any powers, so I hitchhiked when I could and walked when I couldn't," Wes admitted, scratching the side of his neck.

"You hitchhiked looking like that," she snorted. Wes was just absolutely filthy. "I'm surprised no one thought you were a serial killer looking like that."

"It was tough to get a ride, April. Believe me. But no money, no other clothes, meant no option."

"Come on," she said, pulling him by the hand, leading him into the house. "We've got blood, baths, and beyond here."

He exhaled as she led him up the stairs, helping him take them. It was apparent he was still healing from his captive experience in Wisconsin.

"That sounds amazing, April," he sighed happily.

She led him upstairs to her bathroom, filling the bath for him. He groaned, taking off his once clean dress shirt, only now tattered and dingy rust and gray. She could see that his back had more muscle definition again, but was bruised and covered in cuts. It was clear that after she had been taken to the ballroom that evening, someone had roughed Wesley up. She was sure climbing through all that broken glass, and charred, splintered wood hadn't helped either. At least he was not starving anymore. He was about to remove his pants before he turned his head to look at her over his shoulder.

"April, I don't necessarily want to ask for privacy but—"

Oh. Right.

"Um...sure, I'm sorry you probably want to be alone for a bit. I, uh, yeah, I'm going to go fix you some—food," April said nervously. "Just let me know when you're done."

She went downstairs to the basement to get some blood for him. April could hear the water stop in the pipes. He must be so tired. Knowing that he could have gone anywhere, and he chose to get to her, made her heart skip—and hurt. There was something in her body that made it hard to breathe since all of that happened. She was not sure if it was the grief or something from the smoke she had inhaled during her escape, but either way, she was fighting it daily.

April decided to give him some time to decompress. He had been through so much. It must have been a relief to be relaxed and not have to worry about what evil stuff was barging through the door. There was something a little heavy in the way he greeted her. It was apparent he was so happy to see her but distracted with the circumstances. There was an added weight, a burden, on his shoulders. Wes had made it clear time and again that he thought Jesse was better for her, safer than he was. But she didn't fall in love with Jesse. She fell in love with Wes. The 'bad boy.'

Her mom and Gwen had the same problem with falling for the same type of guy in the past. They had that discussion once not long before Abby passed away, all the girls sitting at the table in the cabin while the boys were down by the firepit. She had asked her mom about how she and her dad had met, and she was very vague about the specifics and the circumstances.

"We met on a case in Chicago. I was working undercover as a — waitress."

"Yeah, we'll go with that," Gwen snorted as Abby elbowed her in the side, making her spill her beer.

"Your dad and Sam were on the same case, and we ended up teaming up. Dean was just so–" she smiled at the memory. April had always been impressed that her affection never disappeared when she talked about her dad.

"Hot," Gwen winked and playfully smirked at Abby. "I remember you telling me he looked hot as hell, his ass looked great in jeans, and was a hell of a shot. At least that's what you told me."

"Not exactly the details that I want my daughter to know," she chuckled, lightly shoving Gwen. "It was more than that, April. I could tell he was a good person. He had a good heart. I mean, he was a hunter giving me a chance, right? And he was so protective of his brother. And loyal. Once you're on his team, he's got you, ya know? Yeah, he can come off gruff, rough around the edges for sure—"

"That's an understatement," Ruby added under her breath.

"But I knew that he had my back no matter what. And that's what you want; you want a partner. You want someone that you can count on in a fight to be on your side. Someone who, if you're upset, will just hold you and let you scream, cry, and rage without saying a word. Someone who will call you out on your bullshit. Someone who would take a bullet for you, and you know you'd do the same. Hell, we've done that for each other. That's your Dad. That's Us."

"Cute, Abs. But your initial attractions were the great ass and fighting skills," Gwen persisted.

"Well, I mean, yeah, sure, there's always an initial physical attraction. I mean, that's good for the long haul for sure. But, if you want something that is going to outlast all the inevitable crap that comes in life, you need a connection, undying faith in each other. That's what's important. Bad boy or not, if you have that, you're set. And look, I get it. You're a teen. You're not going to look for that stuff yet, and that's cool. There's no rush at all," she emphasized. "But you'll know it one day when you see it. I know."

"And don't ask me about boys," Gwen had said. "I had enough bad boys to last me a lifetime. I've reformed. I finally have my good boy with Cas. He's as sweet and innocent as they come. Good guys come with way less baggage."

"We all come with baggage," Abby admitted. "You just have to find a matching set."

"And don't ask me, I once made a good boy go completely demonic," Ruby shrugged.

April had wondered at the time why her mother had been so open and specific about relationship advice. And now she knew; her mother was never planning on coming home. Abby wanted to make sure her daughter had some sort of guidance when it would come to her future. It killed her how clear she could see her mother's real intentions after the fact. As they say, hindsight was always 20/20.

After she heard the water drain from the bathtub, April carefully made her way upstairs with a coffee mug full of heated blood. She almost dropped the cup when she reached her door. He was already in her bedroom standing wearing only a towel, water dripping from his wet chin-length brown hair down his muscular back. Oh boy. She knocked lightly on the door jam.

"Here," she nervously smiled, handing him the warm mug.

"Thanks," he said, turning to take it, twisting to grab it with his right hand, his left arm still wrapped. "Ah, that's the good stuff." He gulped down what was in the mug and then yawned. The poor guy was beyond drained.

"Do you need anything else? I figure I could just let you sleep in here," she suggested, as she turned to leave the room.

"April?"

Her heart skipped. It was the first positive feeling she had in her chest for a long time. "Yeah?"

"Some fresh clothes might be nice," he said, his eyes looked down at the towel. Oh.

"Um, yeah, let me see if my brother has something that would work."

April raided her brother Dylan's dresser and found a pair of gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

"Here," she tossed it to him from the doorway.

"Thanks," he crookedly grinned. My lord that smile. April blurred out of the room as fast as she could, her back flat against the wall. Her skin was flushed. Why was this feeling so fucking awkward? It's not like they did not know each other intimately at that point. But those feelings had been in the dark under the direst of circumstances. Now, in the ordinary world, in the light of day—

She peeked into the bedroom, finding him sprawled out on her bed in his new clothes, almost unconscious already. She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe, smiling at his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful, nearly downright human. He was alive–and free. And that made her so goddamn happy she thought she would cry. But the others that night—

"Are you going just to stand there stalking, or are you gonna come over here," he yawned, his eyes still shut, clearly sensing her hesitation. April shyly made her way over to her bed. She sat down on edge, putting a hand on his clothed leg. Why was she acting like such a dorky, awkward teen? It's not like she hadn't touched his freaking leg before? Where the hell did her small shred of confidence go? It was still clearly locked up.

He shifted on the twin-sized bed, rolling on his side so he could lean on his uninjured arm, and lightly patted the mattress next to him. April took a breath, walked over, and nervously scooched over to lay beside him. As he shifted closer to her, draping his bandaged arm over her, the awkwardness slipped away. She cherished what his arms felt like, how there was nothing that would hurt her while they encircled her—his love protecting her.

April was reminded of what he meant to her and what they expressed to one another. And she remembered the literal hell they had been through together. The last time they had seen each other had been that terrible night when April suffered so much. That same night, she had thought she had lost him for good. She lost three people she loved in the ash, and it had been the love of all those people that had gotten her out safely. Wes. Jesse. Her mom. And though something above liked her enough to give her just one back—

Her heart clenched in pain, a terrible croaking gasp escaped from her throat. She rolled to face him, fisting his shirt in her hands and lost it. All the grief she had been choking down for over a month came up, and April was overcome with a flood of grief as Wes held her in his arms, rubbing soothing circles on her back, silent as her tears soaked his shirt.