"Aren't we all Damaged?"
Being a Hybrid has its perks, but it also has its disadvantages. Abigael had been on both ends of those sticks, she's been on them for a while. But there was a fraction in the Demon world that would want her dead and another...
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What happened at the psychiatric hospital, had thrown me for a week. My mind is just racing with what I hadn't thought about in centuries. My mind was far from my current problems, but they never seemed far behind.
I was out in a bar, sitting at the counter, the bar busy with life. My leather jacket slung over the back of the chair, as I leaned onto the counter top, a glass of whiskey in my hand. A flip phone next to my resting arm, and just as I looked at the phone - it came to light, flashing and letting out a vibration. I frowned as the display on the front didn't display a name, so being curious, I grabbed the phone, and flipped it open, opening the message. My eyes scanned the message, and it was from someone I didn't think would ever ask for my help. MIster Dean Winchester. In the message, he asks if I could meet them in Housatonic, Massachusetts, at this specific address that was included in the message. They had a case that they could use my skill set on.
Did Sam finally tell Dean what I asked him too all those weeks ago? Was Dean ready to trust me? It was intruding to think about. There was no doubt in my mind that Sam would have told his brother what transpired in his room that night. It was something I had to face, but wasn't going to break that easy.
Flipping the phone closed, I down the remaining half glass of the whiskey, and placed the glass down. I spun on my stool, and slid off, brushing part of my dress that I was wearing down. It was comfortable, and flexible enough to fight. I grabbed my leather jacket, swinging it over my shoulder. My boots clicked against the ground, making my exit clear. A few eyes stared me off, which was always a bonus.
I left the bar, and soon found myself on the path, and cocking my head around briefly to see it not with life. I blinked, and I was transported to the address that was in Dean's text. I was standing on a porch, and I was on what is believed to be a farm. Without hesitation, I knocked on the door, and waited for someone to answer it. The door to the home was slung open, and to my surprise, a seemingly bald man had answered it, his eyes wondering my figure.
"I hear you have a ghost problem?" I strolled past him, a smirk tugging at my lips. I walked through the hallway, but turned to the left to see Sam and Dean on the sofa, and a Mother and a daughter to my left, sitting opposite. "Hello boys," the smirk continued to tug at the inner corner of my lips. "Thanks for the text Dean," I brought my leather jacket round, and slung it towards him, which made him catch it.
"This is Abigael. Our... Friend," Dean found a word to introduce me. Well he couldn't just say Demon slash witch friend. I turned my head to the Mother and Daughter and offered a tight thin smile.
"So, when did this start?" I pondered the question out into the air.
"Started a month or two after we moved in," the man spoke from behind, as he was in the threshold of the living room door, holding suitcases.
"Yeah, first I-It was, uh, bumps and knocks and, uh, scratches on the walls. And then it started breaking things," the mother announces.
"And then it attacked Katie?" Sam's rough husky voice pierced the air. My eyes darted over to the teenage girl.
