"You guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?" Sam inquired.

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

"Daddy's here?" Abby asked as Dean looked back at Sam.

Dean didn't deny any relation to the other guy. He couldn't after Abby had just outed them as the other guy's family. But knowing their dad, it was probably going to be safer for Abby to have a room of their own.

John wasn't a danger to the little girl. Not in ways his three kids knew. Abby had him concerned from the moment she had shown signs of supernatural abilities. There were things about Sam that only he knew as well. Only Sam hadn't shown any signs yet, so there might have been hope for him at least.

John Winchester was a man of many secrets. Few were his own in comparison to the ones his children unwittingly held.

"Abs… Let… I need you to… Dean, help me out here," Sam said as he tried to get out of Abby's grasp. She didn't let go. Instead, her grasp tightened.

"No…" he said with a straight face.

"Come on, Man. I can't pick this lock with her ha… You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"You have no idea."

"Fine. I'll figure it out… This doesn't mean I'm coming back."

Dean turned away to be Sam's lookout. "She's still scared, and you've been away for two years. You might not have a choice, Sammy. She won't let go of you any time soon. And you know Dad won't let her stay with just anyone. Thinks we're the safest place for her."

Sam did his best to pick the lock with Abby hanging on him. He wasn't even holding her anymore. "Hey, Abs… I ne… I gotta put you down, Kiddo…" he sighed. Just as Dean had predicted, their little sister wasn't letting go. What happened the night before was scary. There was no arguing with that. But it took a lot to frighten them. Abby was a little kid still. A little kid with a very active imagination as evidenced by the glitter bombs that had ruined certain devices in Dean's car. A kid with very little contact with the supernatural.

He was finally able to get her to stand on her own feet. But she didn't let go until she started to do a certain dance that had Dean telling Sam to move faster.

"I'm working on it, Dean."

"Work faster. A bladder's about to explode."

Click. The motel door swung open. Sam hid the lock pick set and stood up. Abby raced through the open door toward the bathroom. She barely had time to close the door behind her before sitting down.

A very, very dramatic sigh of relief escaped her lungs. It could be heard through the door. Sam smiled until he realized his lookout was still outside facing the parking lot. He grabbed his brother's jacket, yanked him backward into the room and closed the door behind them.

"Something on your mind, Dean?"

"Huh?"

"You just look like there's something on your mind."

"I don't know. Maybe… It's just… It's Abby, Man… something's happening to her."

"You mean other than the ability to levitate?"

"She had a dream about Mom."

Every surface was covered with articles, pictures, and handwritten notes.

"Our mom?"

"Our mom."

Books were on the desk, maps on the walls, even food that appeared to have been there for days before they arrived.

"So?"

"On our way to get you, she woke up from one. Been having that dream for months. It never changed…"

"If it never changed, then why worry about it now?"

"There were a few things about the story that Dad left out for Abby's sake… She said there was a woman pinned to the ceiling. And then asked me what color the flames were… Now, the fire's color could be chalked up to dream world. But I can't ignore the fact that she saw Mom dying." Dean picked up a half-eaten hamburger that was sitting on the desk. He sniffed it and recoiled. "I don't think Dad's been here for a couple days at least."

"Maybe she heard it in passing?" Sam had knelt to the floor where there were lines of salt. "Cats-eye shells, salt...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in… What have you got here?"

"Centennial Highway victims… I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs… ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?... We never discussed anything about Mom that Abby didn't already know."

Sam looked at the research that had been done for them. There was something about a Bell Witch. Two people being burned alive, a skeletal person blowing a horn at several scared people with the note Mortis Danse. A column about Devils and Demons, another about Sirens, Witches, the possessed, a wooden pentacle, and a note that says Woman in White above a printout of the Jericho Herald article on Constance's suicide.

Splash! It happened immediately after Sam had turned on a lamp.

"Daddy!"

Dean was already at the door ready to open it. "You okay in there?"

"Dude… privacy," Sam said, trying to stop Dean.

"Answer me, Abs."

"I want Daddy," she said through the door.

"You gonna tell her?" Sam asked.

"Only if I have to… Abigail Olivia, if you don't answer me in the ne-"

Her soft, embarrassed voice broke through the sound of his own as she replied.

"I fell in."

Dean had to walk away for a beat. Most of the time, the kid's accidents were serious. And this one might have been, too. He honestly didn't know yet. But this one. He needed to step back. He didn't want her to hear him because biting his lip to keep a chuckle at bay wasn't working.

"Di- Did she just say she… fell… in the… toilet?" Sam asked. And Dean lost it. The mental image was funny enough to him, but hearing the words out loud would have broken anyone.

"Daddy!"

"All right. One of us needs to go in there."

"I'll do it. Just… I need a minute," Dean choked out.

Regaining control took a little more than a minute. And Abby didn't have a minute.

"No. You get yourself under control. I'll help her. Probably doesn't want to be the butt of your jokes for the rest of the day."

Sam opened the bathroom door to see Abby folded in half, struggling to get out. Her attempts weren't working so she gave up, folding her arms across her chest in a huff as she looked up at him.

"You're not Daddy."

The comment hurt a little, but he seemed to understand why she said it. All he had to do was look out the bathroom door. Dean was no longer even half upright. Did Sam think the situation was funny? Yes. But it wasn't fall on the floor and stay there forever funny.

"I know," he said softly. "Give me your hands." Sam held his own out for her to grab onto. She grabbed his hands and pulled.

"Where is he? DD said he was here."

"I never said that," Dean said from the other room. "Receptionist said it, not me."

Toilet water dripped from Abby's body. Sam hadn't pulled her all the way up, just enough so she wasn't sitting in the water anymore and he could turn on the shower.

"Tell me when the curtain's closed and I'll open the door. Okay?" he said, adjusting the temperature for her. "You still afraid of mirrors when you're alone?" Abby nodded. "Wash cloth… towel. Soap's already in there. What does Dean help you with?" He covered the bathroom mirror with the other towel.

"Help her with her hair, Sammy. She can do the rest herself… Need to get all that crusty slime off her. I'll be right back. Get her a change of clothes from the car."

Sam nodded as he helped Abby out of her crusty shirt. He pulled off her shoes so she could step out of her pants once he was out of the room.

"Think you can handle walking to the shower without tripping?"

"I'm not that bad… am I?" she asked.

"What happened five minutes ago, Abs?"

"I fell in the toilet."

"And how about yesterday?"

"Got covered in slime."

"And?"

"Glitter."

"And what was that at the library?"

"Sammy-"

"You tripped on air, Abs… Look. When you take those off," he said pointing to her pants. "Put them where you're not going to trip over them. Like against the wall. Or on the counter. Okay?"

"Okay, Sammy."

He nodded and walked out the door, closing it behind him. Sam walked around the room, reviewing his father's work. And it all came down to one thing.

"Dad figured it out," he said as Dean walked back in. "He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."

"All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

They continued talking until Abby called. Dean pat Sam's shoulder, telling him he would take over from there.

"All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address for the husband. I'm gonna get cleaned up… Abby, let's move." He walked toward the bathroom, stopping long enough to hear Sam try to apologize for the things he'd said the night before. Dean was never into what he and so many others like to call chick-flick moments.

Sam nodded, laughing. "All right, Jerk."

"Bitch."

It was a whole thing between them. Something Abby didn't understand when they'd call each other those things. One of them was a word she was told never to repeat. He couldn't keep Sam out of the life, but he wanted to do for his sister what he couldn't do for his brother. Keep her innocent as long as possible. That alone was going to be difficult with him as her guardian most of the time.

"You done washing yourself, Abs?" Dean asked as he walked into the bathroom.

Abby's shower had come to an end with Dean washing her hair. Suds rolled to the floor and down the drain. The towel Sam had grabbed for her was held from corner to corner as Dean held it up for her.

"Turn around," he said. When she did, he wrapped the towel around her. "Sammy will help you get dressed, all right? Clothes are on the bed. I'm gonna get cleaned up."

Dean led her out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

She went up to Sam who was looking at a picture. It was of John, Dean, and Sam years before Abby had entered their lives. There was a picture of the four of them as well, but that wasn't the one Sam had picked up. John had both photos for a reason. One was a reminder of why he started hunting in the first place. The other was what kept the hunt alive.

Before she could even round the corner, Abby stumbled, falling to the floor again. She caught herself on her hands and knees. The sound pulled Sam out of his thoughts as he came over to her. She wrapped the towel around her body again as she slowly rose to her feet, using the wall for support. Something she couldn't do at the library because there was nothing in the area where she fell.

Balance had always been an issue for Abby. As if there was more fluid in one ear than the other.

Arms were raised as a shirt came down over Abby's torso. Her head poked through the neck hole. She'd done the rest herself… except for her shoes. She still needed help with those.

Sam cleaned off a portion of the bed, keeping the notes and articles as organized as they were before he moved them.

"Get some sleep, Shortround. You've been up all night." He lifted her up onto the bed, trying to lay her back, but she wouldn't have it. She hung on him as he tried to stand up straight.

"Sammy?" Abby said, grabbing onto his neck.

"Yeah?" He tried pulling away. This kid had one hell of a grip.

"Why do you and DD call me Shortround?"

"Because you've got the sass of Shortround," he replied in confusion.

"Who's that?"

"Indiana Jones? Temple of Doom?" he still wasn't getting a response. "You've seen Star Wars, but not Indiana Jones? Unbelievable… You, uh… You get some rest. I need to call Jessica."

Abby took him seriously about calling Jessica. But she still wasn't letting go of him.

"I'm not tired, Sammy," she said through a yawn. Sam scoffed. It hadn't been five seconds after speaking. Her eyes were closed and her breath was more even than when she was awake.

She hadn't given Sam much of a choice but to hold on to her. Holding her with one arm, he reached into his pocket with the other. He pulled out his cell phone, flipping it open to see a voicemail from Jessica. He listened to it until…

"Hey, man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street, grab something for Abs. You want anything?"

Dean had left the bathroom, fully clothed. He grabbed his jacket, shrugging it on as he crossed the room.

"No."

"You sure? Aframian's buying."

Only moments had gone by before Sam's phone rang. He brought it to his ear after looking at the caller ID.

"Dude, five-oh. Take off," came Dean's voice.

"What about you?"

"Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad."

Sam desperately looked around for a way out that wouldn't be seen by whatever law enforcement was outside. His only option was the bathroom window.

He moved quickly, trying to keep himself from being arrested and Abby from waking up to blow their location. It wasn't easy, but he did it.

"So. Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" the sheriff from the bridge asked.

"My boobs." Sam didn't need to see Dean's face to know there was a ridiculous grin. It earned him a shove over the hood of the cruiser, and the deputy reading him his rights.