Abby looked down at Sam's outstretched arms. This only made her hold the shower rod tighter. She wanted the safety provided by the floor, but her imaginary pet was loose and needed to be returned to his enclosure.

"Noooooooo! I'm not coming down, Sammy!" she said, slowly feeling herself rotate until she was hanging like a sloth. "Bond is still… Get me down, Sammy! He's climbing down the curtain!"

Sam put his hands under her arms to keep her from falling more. The child slowly let go of the rod, allowing her brother to support her.

"How'd you get up there, Abs?" Sam asked, trying to set her down on her feet. But, like a toddler, the floor was lava. "Abs. I can't reach your pet if you don't let me set you down first," he reasoned.

That got her. Once Abby's feet hit the floor, she climbed onto the toilet.

"He's right there, Sammy," Abby pointed to a spot just out of her reach.

He looked where Abby's finger was aimed. Confused. He could have sworn that wasn't there before. What was a tropical animal doing in their motel room so far north.

"No!" Sam's hand froze. He'd never handled a chameleon before. "Don't just grab. If you move too fast, he'll bite you." It sounded as if she'd had real experience with her imaginary pet that had appeared out of nowhere.

Sam called Dean back into the bathroom. The door was closed when Dean returned, so he knocked before opening it with his cell phone to his ear. Dean was in the middle of ordering their food. His voice traveled through the door.

"Right. One large pizza, half meat lover's with onions, half veggie. Two beers and an apple juice. And a small pizza, no onions… Small pizza is for a food allergy… ri…" He froze as soon as the door was open. "What. The hell. Am I looking at?" He looked from Abby, to Sam. Abby. Sam. "Was that-"

Sam nodded. His own eyes as wide as his brother's. The lizard was reaching for his hand.

Dean closed the phone, amazed at what he was seeing. It was definitely one for the books if they'd been keeping a written record of Abby's antics.

Great, they both thought. Now she can bring her imaginary friends into reality.

"Dean?"

"I know. We need to find Dad."

"You knew about the other stuff. How'd you miss this?"

"She never got that bored, Sam. Not in our presence, anyway," Dean replied.

"I know one thing… Dad would kill us before he'd kill her."

"Dude, she's not that spoiled," Dean exclaimed, not thinking about the nineteen years of his own life before learning of a baby sister. The look that little, but taller brother had given was enough to have him wavering. "Okay, so he went easier on her than he did us. That doesn't make her spoiled."

"Really?" Sam couldn't stop himself. He began listing everything they'd had to do for her since she came into their lives. Aside from today when Abby got the shower started on her own, they'd had to do that. Anything that required the kid hold even a plastic knife, they did for her.

Then there was all the stuff she'd only recently begun doing. Near instant healing, levitation, and bringing her imagination to life? They knew how to handle monsters. And the brothers knew how to take care of their sister until these strange abilities presented themselves.

"Talk about new territory," Dean rubbed the back of his head. Abby was finally under the shower head. Bond was in his cage, and their pizzas were on their way. "Alright, so we got Shortround in the shower. Bond, who is no longer invisible, is now in the cage we found on the side of the road. And we've got three drowning victims this year alone. Any before that?"

There was one that put a hold on a fishing tournament according to the local paper' website. Six more were spread out over the past thirty-five years. Sadly, much like the most current victim, those bodies were never recovered. If there was something out there, it was picking up its pace.

Dean tossed an item of clothing onto a bed, laying his claim to it. The beds weren't the usual size he went for, but then, his room choices usually had one large bed and a cot for the little one.

The water turned black. That would have worried anyone. Weird things had been happening a lot lately. And Abby seemed to be at the center of it all.

She stared as the water rained down on the now vacant space. What did she do to cause this? Was she even responsible for it?

Did the change in color scare her? Of course it did. But this was something she'd spent the last two years getting used to. It didn't frighten her like it would one who only just learned of this world.

Abby had since finished her shower and was dressed before this waterlogged ghost came up through the plumbing. The form slowly put a watery finger to what might have been its lips.

The form appeared as though it wanted to tell her something, only it never got the chance. The bathroom doorknob made just enough noise to draw both Abby and the watery form's attention.

She turned her head back toward the form, but nothing was there. Just black water. Pain erupted through her head as the door hit her.

"OW!" she looked back at who opened the door. Her hand where the door hit her.

"Sorry, Abs," Sam said as he lowered himself to her level. "Where did I hurt you?" He noticed there was still dried blood on her from before she went under the water. "You've been in here a long time. Do you still need help with your hair?"

Abby nodded. Her gaze had returned to the floor where the black water had become clear. Sam removed his jacket, then rolled up his sleeves to keep his clothes as dry as possible.

Once her hair was washed and clear of blood, Abby stepped out of the shower. Sam's hand was in hers, dwarfing it in a major way.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah, Shortround?" Sam asked while wrapping a towel around his sister's body. He placed another one over her hair and rubbed it like one would their dog after a bath.

"What's a water ghost look like?"

He froze. Unsure how he was supposed to answer that, he turned and walked out of the room. When he came back, he began to help dry her off. Leaving her torso to do on her own. She wasn't a baby who needed assistance in those areas anymore.

"Please, Sammy," she begged. "I might sleep better." The scoff that left the outer room was more of a kneejerk reaction on Dean's part. Abby crossed her arms like any child not used to getting their way. Then she said something that neither brother would have believed. "Daddy would tell me." Her arms were still crossed. There was a scowl on her face.

"Now, I don't need Dean to tell me that's a lie."

"Dad didn't want Sammy to know about any of this stuff when he was your age," Dean said, confirming Sam's words. "Get dressed, Shortround. Food's almost here."

Abby, still wrapped in a towel, looked toward the couch where the clothes Dean picked out for her laid.

"She's not just levitating, or healing, or bringing her imaginary pets to life, Dean…"

"What now?"

"I think she can teleport." Sam saw the look on his brother's face. Normally, Dean would have believed every word. But Sam had been trying everything he could to get out of the rut they were in. The rut of being one or two locations behind. "You don't believe me… Dean, one second, Abs was standing right next to me. The next… kid was hanging upside down from the curtain rod."

Dean knew the next phrase that was coming out of Sam's head. "Don't say it. Don't even think it… The words Abs and possessed do not belong in the same sentence."

Sam almost laughed. "I think she can teleport."

This time, he did laugh as the muscles in Dean's body visibly relaxed. But, with all the monsters they'd dealt with over the years, he could see why Dean would have thought such a thing.

Abby ran toward the bathroom with her clothes in hand, dropping a piece here and there on her way in. She grabbed the missing pieces from the floor. One of those pieces was the pajama top. Even if someone were watching, they wouldn't have known how she managed to get her foot stuck inside of it. All her brothers heard was a thud, and Abby was on the floor tangled up in her own clothes.

Dean leaned over to pick her up. How could someone who shared their blood be so accident prone? He set her back on her feet, untangled from her clothes and ready to put them on.

"DD?" came Abby's soft voice as she stood at the edge of his bed. The man didn't stir. "DD!" her voice was slightly louder, this time accompanied by a finger poking him in the face.

She hadn't slept at all after the previous evening's encounter. It wasn't quite as frightening as other such events, but it was certainly strange. Her previous interactions with such beings scared her because she was a child. Why those beings never went after her had yet to be explained.

"D-Deeeeeeeeee!" she squealed as he rolled from his stomach to his back, dragging her with him as he moved. Dean held a finger to his lips. If that squeal didn't wake Sam, nothing would.

"Shhhhh…" He said with a finger to his lips.

"Are we trading secrets?" Abby whispered.

"Sammy's sleeping," Dean corrected. Abby's lips formed an 'o'. "What'd you want to ask at four thirty in the morning?"

Abby bit her lip, a clear sign of hesitation on her part. The last time she asked the question on her mind, Dean was none too pleased, though it was likely because he didn't know quite how to answer her.

With a sigh, he figured out the unasked question. "I want you to listen to me, Shortround," he said gently. "And then I want you to go to sleep. Okay?" Abby nodded. "Dad didn't leave because of you. He went to find answers for all of us… And I just realized you weren't asking about that… I don't know if we'll catch up to him in time for your birthday, Munchkin."

"I miss Mommy." Abby didn't mention her mother as much as she did her father as of late. She'd spent every birthday with her mother until that was no longer an option. Dean and John had never gotten her to talk about if she'd seen anything the day her mother died. "Why did those people kill her?"

Suddenly Dean was a lot more awake than he was five minutes ago. No one really suspected she knew anything because of where she was found. "What do you remember, Shortround?"

"Two men. Tall, like you and Sammy." Dean chuckled at that. To Abby, everyone was a giant. "One was taller than the other… and darker… Mommy said there was something special about me that these people wanted."

"Special, huh?" Her mother knew everything and didn't bother to tell them? Now the one with all the answers was gone. "Special like what you've been doing for the last few years?" She nodded. "What else do you remember about these men? Names? What they look like?"

That, she didn't recall. She didn't see them more than two seconds. But she did tell Dean of how her mother did more than just hide her in a closet before those people could find her.

"Mommy said she made it so only she could find me. That it was to keep me safe. She called it a sig…sig…sigil." She was starting to fall asleep.

Dean laid his head on the pillow, closing his eyes to go back to sleep. Only… his mind wouldn't let him because once again, more questions were raised than answered. But it did explain how her mother always seemed to know where to find them… maybe. There was still a lot he didn't know about his youngest sibling.

There were children screaming, laughing, crying, even running around while parents either joined them or observed from the park's benches. Little Abby was ecstatic. The park was her favorite place aside from her family's embrace.

It was where she got to burn off days, sometimes weeks, worth of pent-up energy… usually over the span of a few short hours. But everywhere she wanted to go had a line or a crowd. She didn't know what to do around other kids her age. Seeing a child's ghost the night before hadn't helped either. In fact, that only seemed to make her clingy, not that she would ever tell her brothers there was a ghost in the bathroom with her.

Every attempt, if she made one, was met with a pull from whichever brother happened to be holding her hand at the time.

Once the brothers had learned that Lucas witnessed his father's death in the lake, it was silently decided that Dean would be the one to talk to him.

The town's sheriff told them that Lucas hadn't spoken a word since his father's death. Even psychologist hadn't gotten him to talk. So, Dean decided to give an attempt. Maybe talking to someone who went through a similar event. And since Sam was six months old when he witnessed his mother's death, Dean, who witnessed the same event at four years old, was the next best choice.

"Can we join you?" Sam asked, Abby's small hand still in his. Dean had dropped her other hand some time ago to keep up appearances. Andrea looked up to see the trio before giving an answer.

"I'm here with my son."

"Oh, mind if I say hi?" Dean asked without waiting for an answer or even a word from Sam about Abby and walked over to her son.

"Tell your friend this wholeJerry Maguire thing is not gonna work on me."

"I don't think that's what this is about," Sam said as he sat beside her. Abby clutched the cuff of his jacket as she stumbled her way between his legs. He put a hand on her head, pulling her into his usual brotherly embrace. A tight hug and a kiss to the forehead or cheek that was usually met with giggles caused by any regrowth that might have been on his face.

Andrea took notice of how these men were. Not just with her own son, but with this little girl as well.

"You're really good with her," Andrea said, which was true from what she'd seen.

"Thanks… Just wish our dad and older brother felt the same way." That explained how Dean got away with using the child's middle name the day before.

"He must if he's trusting you with her for the day… both of your parents."

"Our mothers are gone," Sam explained without going into detail. "And as far as our father goes… He's been in and out of the picture most of her life for the last seven years. I just hope he doesn't disappoint her again."

"Daddy?" Abby questioned. Her brothers had kept telling her they were getting closer with every leg of their trip.

"Alli's birthday is in a month, and she really wants him there for it. We're just having a difficult time finding him."

Dean felt like his attempt at breaking Lucas' silence was failing. The boy refused to react to anything he'd tried. Even his own stick figure drawing of the Winchester family, Abby and her mother included, hadn't worked.

Another decision that had been made before the trio reached the park was that if all else failed, Dean would signal Sam to send their sister over to him. Sam still hadn't been told that Abby knew something of her mother's death, just that Dean wanted to use her with Andrea's kid as a last resort.

That signal was sent when two of Dean's fingers and outstretched arm made the come here gesture. He had to make it more than once and even looked in their direction to be sure Sam had seen it.

"DD, will you push me on the swings?" Abby asked.

"Later, Shortround." She crossed her arms as if he said that all the time. "Right now, I need you to do something for me, okay? I'm gonna go back over and talk with Sammy and Andrea. Can you stay here and keep Lucas company, for me?"

He didn't get up until he received a nod from the little girl. It was a hesitant one as Abby didn't like being left alone with strangers. But if Dean and Sam were staying close by, she was okay with doing what was asked of her.

Abby knelt down in front of the park bench, opposite Lucas. Unlike her brother, she asked if she could draw with him. The boy's silent response was to place the box of crayons and three pieces of paper between them to share. It was admittedly better than how she treated John and Dean during her own silent period.

Dean must have recognized what Lucas was drawing, or at least the behavior. His own sister had done something similar, only it cost cleaning deposits for both apartments and motel rooms. They were constantly finding drawings on the walls instead of the paper they'd give her, and their only excuse at the time was her age, which for a six-year-old, was flimsy at best.

The dark swirl she believed was something he saw in person. Because that was how the ghost that paid her a visit the night before made its presence known before allowing her to see its human form.

She looked at the pile of used paper and saw Dean's stick figure art. While it was childlike, she noticed how many people were drawn. Six.

"My brothers don't know what I saw either," she said. Abby looked toward the adults to see if they were listening. They were close enough to keep an eye out, but also far enough to have their own private conversation. "Two people came and killed my mother… she hid me before they came in… Something really bright came from her as a shiny pointy thing entered her chest."

Abby never intended to scare the boy. But he'd stopped drawing. His eyes landed on the swirl pattern. Abby followed his gaze. The part of a water reflection that would have been closest to Lucas and his father was hand shaped, like a child's.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident," Andrea said. They could hear the sadness in her voice.

"Yeah, we heard. Sorry… Ally did the same thing a couple years ago," Dean said, letting her know he went through something similar.

"What are the Doctors saying?" Sam asked, finding it difficult to hide his frustration. This was yet another thing Dean had kept from him.

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress… We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..."

There was a pause, but Dean seemed to know what to say. To most people, they were only comforting words with little to no meaning behind them. But Dean had raised Sam since the younger was six months old as their father had essentially checked out.

"Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with."

Andrea went on to say, like other parents, they wish their child was back to the way they were before whatever traumatic event occurred. The only reason she stopped was the sight of the two children approaching.

Lucas remained silent while Abby kept trying to get one of her brothers' attention. Since neither one responded to her, she resorted to tugging their sleeves. They considered that to be normal behavior from her, but she knew what would get them to listen. She just wished her own lie was true.

"Daddy!" she yelled as if she had really seen him. She was going to get in a lot of trouble for this, but it worked.

"Ally," Sam warned. He was in no mood to hear her beg for him again when it was slowly becoming clear to them that the man didn't want to be found yet, if at all.

"Lucas has something for DD," she replied, acting innocent. "I'm sorry, Sammy."

Neither brother wanted to admit out loud that her tactic, while low, was pretty good. It got her what she was after. Their attention.

Dean looked to his other side where Lucas stood, between them and Andrea, as if protecting his mother from these seemingly trustworthy people. All things considered, even the lake was trusted, until it wasn't. The picture Lucas had drawn held a familiar portion of that lake.

Had anyone known the significance of these drawings they would have realized the ghost or spirit's next possible target. And there were still two people very much alive in the Carlton house last anyone checked.