The rain was hammering against the window. Rolling down and down. Disappearing. One by one they would all fade away, going somewhere we'd never be able to follow.

And the pattering of rain was the only music. That and the low, steady breaths of Annabell. Dean's impala now smelt of a thunderstorm of sweets.

But for once, the trickster wasn't indulging on the candies he loved. Instead, he was looking ahead. Worried about the road ahead. And whenever his charge would move, he would look over. Noting how she slept, head against the window, never waking. Relishing the comfort the cold window gave her.

Or perhaps it was something else. The feeling that no matter what happened when they arrived, it was going to be over. And the insistent hammering of the rain was her solace. Her peace, bringing her the knowledge that no matter what happened, the world would continue on without her. And if she won, she would continue on with it.

But like the rain, she would never give in. She would continue on until everything was touched by what she did. That they would be safe. That they would have hope.

Almost two years ago, Annabell was on her first poltergeist case. It was a small town, a town she'd been planning to pass through. It was so small it didn't even have it's own morgue.

The town was so shaken by what had happened, it was hard to get any information. But she managed. She salted and burnt the bones. The whole nine yards.

Then she got the hell outa dodge.

Her next hunt had been the vampires she hunted before she ran into the brothers. And Bobby.

The next time she saw them was when she met the one and only Arch-Angel turned Trickster, Gabriel.

But none of that really matters. What really matters is how she ended up in that orphanage as a child. 25 years ago, with the book of her fathers. Mather Azalia.

Rain was falling in buckets, the wind howled up a storm. And it was storming. Bolts were striking the town where three year old Annabell was holed up with her mother.

They were staying in a simple one-story town house. Mather was out on a hunt the state over. But her mother, Lisa, had begged him to let another hunter take care of it. So they could retire without worrying anything was gonna come after them.

But it didn't work. Mather still went out on the hunt. With his book of knowledge and enough weapons to supply a small army. Much like the Winchesters arsenal.

But something was different.

Mather walked into the police station, under the guise of a Federal agent, he got access to the files he needed. Just after he left the station, a call had been taken. Another body had been found.

It was one of the missing persons. A girl in her twenties, with her throat ripped out.

It took no genius of a hunter to realise just what he was hunting. A vampire. Possibly a nest.

By the time he tracked it back to its lair, staked the place out. Even got some dead men's blood, it was too late.

The black station wagon drove down the highway. The man inside was none other than Annabell's father. Mather. Wearing work boots, a jacket, jeans. All for hunting.

He was driving home from the hunt, having cleared the nest. He just wanted to get the hell outa dodge and see his family again. He had been thinking on the drive home that maybe it was best to do as his wife had ask. To put all of this stuff behind them, to live what Dean would have called, an 'apple pie life'. Something that many would never consider in this line of work.

But they had a child. And for three years they had risked dragging her into it. They even had her wear an anti-possession necklace. Not that she would know what it meant for some time now.

Night had descended upon Kansas, and the station wagon pulled into the drive of their family home. A place they hoped they could dwell in forever. Until old age took them.

But something was up, Mather could tell. His nerves were on edge and the lights were flickering. The likes of which only brought bad news. And bad news for hunters... Well. You know how bad things can get.

Moving quickly and without much thought. It was all automated. The rock salt-loaded shotgun was in his hand in moments. Pistol tucked into his genes as he marched to the front door.

It was slightly ajar, he counted in his head. One, two, three.

It only calmed him slightly as the door rushed open by the nozzle of the gun. Clearing corners, kitchen, dining and living room went by first.

His breath shook as it left him, panic was settling. Even though nothing was wrong ba the lights. It wasn't cooler inside. Nor could he smell anything foul. There was no blood, no fire. Nothing but his hair on end and this feeling in his gut.

A feeling he couldn't ignore. Something was wrong. They were here. They had to be, Lisa's bag was still here. So were her keys.

"LISA!" He gave in, calling her name. "ANNABELL!" And his daughters name followed. He moved faster now, all rooms had been cleared except one. His room. Their room.

Then a particularly strong bolt of lightning struck near the house. It shook, and the lights went out.

Mather swore bloody murder under his breath. Luckily he had his trusty torch stowed in his pocket. But it wouldn't turn on, so he discarded it.

Now the thunder, the hammering rain and the distant flashes were his only company.

He opened the last door, the door they'd surely be behind. And they were. A flash illuminated the room, and he knew that for sure. But something else was in here as well.

His wife was on the bed, her chest ripped open. But that's not what really caught his eye. It was the thing holding his weeping daughter.

When she noticed him, she screeched. Reaching for him, "Daddy..." Her voice was horse as she called for him.

The werewolf turned to him, tossing his daughter and lunged. He shot it, once, twice. It done nothing. His silver was in the car. And he wouldn't make it. But he could sure as hell give it a go.

The shots had staggered it, but it hadn't been deterred. He moved back, drawing his pistol and wasting a clip.

It got to him, flung him clean across the room. The werewolf descended upon him, clawing at his chest and shoulder. And it grabbed his arm and bit him.

Bang! The shot rang through the house, followed by another and another. It was dead.

Whoever had saved him, he wasn't expecting it. "Silver?" Asked the figure.

"Yeah, you a hunter?" A deep voice replied.

Mather just nodded, squinting at the sudden light from the flashlight. "M-My daughter." He spoke, looking at the room he'd come from.

"She's safe now."

Mather shook his head, he knew better. His daughter would be all alone now. "I'm bit. You'll have to..." The other hunter seemed to know where he was going. He cocked his gun, aiming it at Mather's heart. "Make sure she's safe. That she doesn't have his life."

"I will."

Bang!

That was the last gunshot to ring out in the Azalia residence. The other hunter done what Mather asked. He done his best to assure Annabell would live a normal life. Well, as best as he could, anyway.

He drove her to the nearest orphanage, left a note with her name. A bag with some of her things, even the book she has till this very day. Her fathers hunting journal.

That's how Annabell ended up in that orphanage. On track to having an apple pie life. Until that fateful encounter with John Winchester and Bobby Singer, and later ones with the other Winchesters. Fate has a funny way of getting you on track.

I woke to the lack of sound from the impala, the lack of the rain hammering down on everything. I stretched my limbs, wondering at the fact I could even do so.

But it only lasted a moment. There was only one person, or angel, that could pull this off.

"Rise and shine, sleepy head!" Gabriel chirped.

"We here then?" I asked groggily, wiping the sleep from my eyes. Only to have to reign in my concentration to not be blinded by him.

"I'm not that ugly, am I?" He mocked taking offense at whatever face I must have pulled.

I gave him my best bitch face. But it was nothing on Sam's... Great. That just ruined my day. Or whatever remained of it. "No. Now answer my question, please?"

"Yeah, we're here. Not to close though." He smirked, walking to sit by me. "Can't have him running now can we?" Gabe nudged my shoulder.

I sighed, "I don't know if I can do this..."

"We went through this already, if you can't do it soon..."

I got up, moving to the other side of the room. "Damn it Gabe. It's not that, okay?!" I covered my face with my hands, dragging them down slowly. He raised a brow, waiting for me to continue. To do something. "It's Sam in there as well. I don't... I just... Ugh!" I fell into the sofa.

Only to have Gabe there moments later. Offering what little comfort he could. "I know."

"How could you know, you bailed on what family you did have. And I- I never had one. Sam and De... Sam's all I have left." I spoke the last part weakly.

Gabriel went stiff, clenching his jaw. Even his grip tightened a bit. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. No jokes, no nothing.

"I'm sorry. I- I was out of line." I wasn't even looking him in the eye, his glowey eyes of doom. Doom? Really? More like golden honey-pots that glow.

"Annabell, you're right. I bailed on them. But they're family. I love 'em. Even if they are a great big bag of dicks most of the time." He offered, trying to be light hearted. Even if his voice was duller than it should have been.

My eyes met his glowing ones. "Doesn't change anything. Like me getting everything wrong, never listing. Always saying the wrong stuff. Just a screw-up. Maybe that's why I was left..."

"You listen to me. You're not a screw-up. Okay? And this is one thing you're gonna get right. So help me God." He proclaimed, bringing me in for a tight hug.

"We need a game-plan."

"All work and no play with you hunters." Gabe whined.

"Whatever Gabe. That's what tricksters are for." I countered.

"Then he'll know we're here."

I looked up at him, and before I knew what hit me, we were kissing. I don't know who initiated it. But we were both enjoying it.

It was the best night I'd had since this all began.