The sound of screaming wasn't a sound that Dean was accustomed to waking up to anymore. It had been at one point, between the constant hunts, his father's nightmares, Sam's nightmares, and his own, but it wasn't anymore.

Before he was even fully awake and aware of what was going on, Dean was on his feet and racing toward his daughter's room. He would recognize those cries anywhere.

Bridget was thrashing around in her bed but was still asleep. A nightmare, then. Dean was well equipped to deal with those. He only hoped that it was a normal nightmare, not a prophetic one like his brother used to have.

Lightly, the green-eyed father sat on the bed. The small movement he created sent Bridget jolting upright, gasping for air as she looked around wildly. Dean found his arms full of a crying sixteen-year-old as soon as Bridget spotted him sitting beside her. At first, she was unable to form words but as she began to regain her senses, Dean could make out words.

"Everything was s-so hot…" Bridget uttered quietly, still gasping. "There were fl-flames everywhere. It was so hot."

Dean's green eyes furrowed in confusion. Had she been dreaming about a fire.

"—heard screams," Bridget continued. "Her screams. It was so hot."

"Her screams?" Dean asked cautiously. A nightmare about a fire was one thing, but if there was another person in the nightmare…

It was certainly cause for concern.

"I see a woman in my dreams sometimes," Bridget explained. "I can't make out any features but her presence is comforting and she has a nice voice. I think in my dreams, she's my mother."

Dean stiffened but ran a hand up and down Bridget's back in a comforting manner.

A screaming woman. A fire. Bridget's mother.

It couldn't be. How could Bridget remember that? She had been less than a month old when the fire that had killed her mother happened.

Unbidden, the memories began to flood to the forefront of Dean's mind.

"Hello?" Dean said into the phone, ignoring one of Sam's rants. His brother looked put out at being ignored but cut off in the middle of his lecture about safety.

"Hello, Dean," a woman said on the other end. The voice was vaguely familiar but Dean wasn't able to pinpoint it.

"Who's this?" he asked warily.

"Tricia," the woman's voice was short. "I wouldn't expect for you to remember me. After all, the last time we saw each other was nine months ago."

A feeling of dread began to form in Dean's gut. Nine months. There was only one situation where that length of time was used that he knew of.

"What do you want?" he asked, even more wary.

"I just want you to come to town for a few days," the woman said. "Just to help me take care of something."

Dean didn't like where this was going.

"Okay," he agreed, mind spinning.

"It's 1748 South Road, Charlotte Grove, Colorado," Tricia said on the other end, almost as if it was an afterthought. "In case you didn't remember."

"1748 South Road, Charlotte Grove, Colorado," Dean repeated. Sam shot his brother a curious look. "I'll see you in a few days." As Dean hung up the phone, Sam ventured a question.

"Do we have a case?" he asked. Dean shrugged.

"Of sorts," he replied vaguely. "Get in. We've got some driving to do."

Just over twenty-four hours later, Dean turned off the Impala and stared at the plain looking house. It wasn't meant to be terrifying but Dean had learned as a child that the most normal looking objects could house some of the most terrifying things in the world. Any human that walked by was a meat suit for a demon and any house on the street could hide horrors behind four walls.

"You okay?" Sam asked. "You look like you're going to your execution." Dean gave his brother a pained smirk.

"We'll find out," he muttered under his breath before opening the Impala's door. Sam had agreed to remain inside the Impala unless Dean needed help. Before he was even at the front door, a dark-haired woman was opening it and shoving something into his arms.

"Read the instructions and give it to me once you're done," she said abruptly. "I just want a paternity test done."

Ah, now Dean remembered Tricia. Her bluntness and eagerness to get things done quickly was hard to forget once he had a face to put to the voice.

"Question," he said once he had provided the DNA samples. "If this comes back positive…"

"I don't care what you do or how involved you are," Tricia replied, understanding the unfinished question. "I just want a name to put down in a will so someone will take care of her if I die. My parents are dead and I have no other relatives, so she needs to go to someone and I don't want her to end up in foster care or an orphanage."

"Right," Dean said dryly, trying not to linger on the morbid thoughts. If he remembered correctly, Tricia had always been a bit morbid. "Duly noted. Do you want me to hang around until results are back?" Sam wouldn't be happy but Dean would be glad for the slight break between cases.

"Do whatever you want," Tricia said, sticking a bottle in the microwave as cries rang down the hallway. "I'll call you with the results. Just don't change your phone number any time soon."

"What's the name?" Dean asked as he opened the front door. Sam looked confused at his quick reappearance from his spot in the Impala.

"Bridget," Tricia replied. "She was born last week."

"Nice name," Dean commented. "Do you want to meet up some time in the next few days? Catch up over a beer?"

Tricia gave the hunter an unamused look. "Dean, no offense, but I'm a mother with a week-old baby. That's also how this entire thing started."

"So that's a no?" Dean asked. The door slamming shut behind him was his only response.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, we just need to hang around for a few more days." Dean replied, not giving anything away via facial expression.

"Well, there's a potential hunt—" Sam began but Dean quickly cut him off.

"No, no hunts," he said quickly. "Let's just take a break for a few days. We've been working nonstop." Sam sighed but didn't protest. He knew that Dean wouldn't budge. Inwardly, he was grateful because the constant run of hunts had left him feeling exhausted. Whenever they thought there was time for a break, another hunt would pop up. Sam couldn't remember the last time they had a few days to relax and unwind.

Three days later, Dean received a call from Tricia while eating dinner in their motel room.

"Hello?" he said.

"The results were positive so I went ahead and put your name in the will," Tricia said quickly, without bothering with any pleasantries. "The rest is up to you but to be honest, I don't expect anything more."

Before Dean could reply, she had hung up.

"Fantastic," Dean muttered. Sam gave him a curious look but Dean shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it.

"Let's leave tomorrow," Dean said a few minutes later. "We're done here. I'm sure there's a hunt somewhere."

Sam gave a wry smile. He could name four hunts off the top of his head.

The next morning, Dean woke up with an uneasy feeling. The air felt off to him, in some manner. It made him anxious and jumpy. As the brothers got into the Impala, Dean decided to drive by Tricia's place one more time. He wanted to say goodbye to his daughter.

Less than a block away from the house, Sam let out a pained grunt as Dean slammed the brakes on the Impala.

"Dean?" he asked as he quickly recovered but his brother was already out of the Impala and racing to a house that was enveloped in flames. Sam cursed but unbuckled his seatbelt to follow his brother. Hopefully Dean wouldn't do anything stupid.

The crackling of flames and creaking of beams about to collapse nearly covered the sound but both of the brothers were able to faintly hear the wails of an infant. Sam cursed as his brother ran even closer to the house, paying no heed to the danger he was placing himself in. Sam could hear the sirens in the distance that signaled approaching fire trucks. It was all he could do to wait patiently outside and pray that his brother re-emerged from the flames. Sam wasn't about to rush after his brother unless he absolutely needed to.

Thankfully, he didn't need to. After a long few minutes, Dean stumbled out of the burning house, a small bundle in his arms. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and went to go retrieve the Impala and see if he could go help the newly arrived firefighters. Dean crossed the road to watch the house burn and to reassure his daughter.

A tiny wail echoed through the air a few hours later. 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."

"Daddy?" Bridget's quiet voice drew Dean out of his memories.

"What is it?" he asked, blinking away the images.

"You'll always be there to protect me, right?" Dean's throat tightened at the innocent question but his answer was immediate.

"Of course."