After the events of that one day, the Winchester household began falling into a new routine. Bridget would go to school, come home, and procrastinate on homework and studying by playing video games or watching television. Dean would work from seven to five at the auto shop, go home and grab some dinner with his daughter before heading out at eight, where he would bartend until two or three in the morning. Then he would come home, grab the few hours of sleep his schedule allowed, and do it all over again.

Dean really didn't mind the new schedule, as it reminded him of his hunting days (with a lot less of the action) but Bridget felt horrible. Every day she saw the bags under her father's eyes, she was reminded of her situation and how much pressure it was putting on their tiny family.

Bridget had considered getting a job, but her father had talked her out of it. It made the teenager feel even worse. Her father was doing everything to make sure that she was taken care of and wouldn't be forced to work and she couldn't do anything to repay him. All she could do was make sure that there was a hot meal on the dinner table and that Dean was getting the chance to sleep.

Bridget jumped as the phone rang, startling her from her daydreaming. She had been staring out the window, completely ignoring the textbook in front of her. Heart beating wildly, the teenage girl picked up the phone as it rang a second time.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Bridget, is your father around?" Bridget instantly recognized the voice on the other end.

"Hey Uncle Sam," she said before answering the question. "He's sleeping right now."

"Already? It's seven o'clock." Sam sounded surprised. "Must be starting to get old."

Bridget grinned. "He's just sleeping before he has to go work at the bar," she informed her uncle. "I'll let him know that you called when he wakes up."

"Can you wake him up now?" Sam asked quietly. "I need to talk to him about a potential…business trip."

Bridget let out a silent sigh. Business trip. She knew what that meant. There was a hunt in the area that her father needed to take care of.

"Sure thing," she agreed and pushed herself away from the dinner table, where she had been attempting to do homework. Holding the phone against her shoulder, she wandered down the short hallway to where her father's room was located.

"Dad," she said knocking on the doorframe, feeling guilty as Dean jerked awake. "It's Uncle Sam."

Dean held out his hand silently, gesturing for Bridget to hand him the phone.

"What do you want, Sam?" he asked, lifting the phone to his ear. Bridget gave a tiny shake of her head before returning to the kitchen, where she had to still finish her homework. Of course, it wasn't due until the end of the week, so she could put it off for a while more.

Bridget wasn't at all surprised when her father emerged from the bedroom minutes later, still on the phone.

"Something came up, Jill, so I can't work tonight," he was saying. "I'll work a different time but this is really urgent."

As the woman on the other end of the line mentioned something, Dean grabbed the keys to the Impala. Bridget sighed silently at the silent cue. She was on her own for the night and probably for the next few nights.

"What happened?" Dean asked, looking around wildly to find something that was excuse worthy. "Er—"

Bridget mouthed the word 'hospital.' At least that would give her father a plausible excuse.

"Hospital," Dean repeated. "My brother's in the hospital." He affectionately ruffled Bridget's hair. The green-eyed girl made a face and pulled away. A few seconds later Dean hung up the phone and set it on the counter.

"I'm going on a business trip," he informed Bridget. "You know the drill."

"Don't pick up the phone unless it's you calling," Bridget rattled off. "Don't let anyone inside the house, keep the windows and doors salted. There's a gun in the front closet filled with salt rounds, holy water is in the kitchen. There's an iron crowbar in every room along with a silver knife. I know, Dad."

Dean grimaced at her tone.

"I'm just making sure you're safe," he told her. Bridget rolled her eyes.

"I know," she said. "Tell Uncle Sam hi for me."

Dean gave a short nod before opening up the door to the garage.

"Be safe," he warned on the way out. Bridget rolled her eyes again.

"I will be," she promised.

"So, is everything all right?" Sam asked a few hours later as the brothers poked around an abandoned barn. According to local legend, a woman had hung herself from the rafters and recently three girls had been founding hanging from the rafters as well. It definitely spoke of an angry spirit.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Dean asked, warily raising an eyebrow. Sam shrugged.

"Bridget mentioned that you were working at a bar. I thought you were still working at the auto shop," he replied. "And you look exhausted."

"I picked up a second job," Dean said flatly as he examined the barn for any disturbances. "That's all."

"Really?" Sam asked, shining a flashlight around the room. "I thought you were content at the auto shop. What do you need a second job for?"

"Just saving up money for later," Dean stated carefully. Sam gave his older brother a surprised look.

"Planning ahead?" he asked. "That's not really like you." Dean sent a glare in his brother's direction. A figure flickered into view behind Sam and years of reflex took over. Quickly, Dean pulled up his gun and fired a round of salt. Sam grimaced and flinched to the side as the round rushed past him.

"Found our ghost," Dean said dryly. "Let's find the grave and burn the bones. I want to get home to Bridget. She shouldn't be alone for too long."

An amused expression crossed Sam's face.

"Worried that she'll get in trouble?" he asked. Dean grimaced.

"She already got in trouble," he admitted to the younger Winchester as they left the barn. There was a graveyard not far away and he assumed that the ghost's remains would be in the nearest graveyard. "I found out a couple weeks ago that she's pregnant."

Sam stopped in his tracks and gave his brother a startled look.

"Really?" he asked. Dean nodded.

"Skipped school one day and came home with a bruise on her face," he explained. "The answers came out after that." Dean kicked the ground. "I didn't even know she had a boyfriend until then," he admitted. "What sort of father does that make me?"

"Is she keeping the baby?" Sam asked. Dean nodded.

"Where did I mess up?" he asked his brother suddenly, memories clouding his mind. "I still remember holding her as an infant like it was yesterday. My little—" Dean cut off abruptly. He had been about to say 'my little angel' but then he recalled some of the more unpleasant angels he had met.

Sam smiled to himself. He didn't get many chances to see his brother becoming sentimental like this. As a form began to flicker into view, Sam quickly fired off a round, causing Dean to jump. Dean frowned as he remembered the reason why he had quit being a full-time hunter in the first place.

A tiny wail echoed through the air. Dean lightly bounced the tiny form in his arms, trying to hush the baby. He had nearly succeeded when the Impala approached with a slight squeal. The gravel crunched underneath its wheels. Sam gave Dean an apologetic look as the squealing started up again.

"Any sign of Tricia?" Sam asked as he got out of Impala. Dean shook his head. He could see firefighters poking around in the remains of what used to be a two-story house. There had been a slight commotion earlier but he hadn't dared to go any closer to the burnt remains. Not with the baby in his arms.

"Sir, are you the guardian of the baby?" A police officer finally approached Sam and Dean.

"Only if her mother can't take care of her anymore," Dean replied bluntly. The officer frowned and nodded, a mournful look crossing his face.

"We found a body in the house," he informed Dean. "It looks like a woman. One of the firefighters identified her as Tricia Adams."

Dean closed his eyes. He had suspected it from the beginning.

"I see," he said.

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked a few minutes later as the policeman walked away. Dean glanced down at the infant girl in his arms.

"Stop hunting," he decided immediately. "At least, full-time. I'm not going to raise her like Dad raised us."

Dean shook his head to clear his thoughts. He had done his best but apparently he hadn't been prepared for everything.

"Come on, Sammy," he said. "Let's get this done."