STAY WITH ME (HOLD MY HAND) ━ supernatural

6. Our Haunted House

A/N:  I am so so so sorry for it being over a month since I've updated, my bad y'all. HOWEVER, it is now summer break so here is a vaguely edited ~4K words chapter that is one of my favs <3

(Also FYI it takes place in episode 9 because I skipped a bunch of episodes)

~

Up until 5 minutes ago, the only memories Abby had of the Winchester's home in Kansas were from her brothers' stories of childhood. But now she was sitting in the back of Baby as Dean sped past the sign signifying they were entering Lawrence Kansas. Abby noted Dean's tight grip on the steering wheel and clenched jaws as a result of Sam's possibly prophetic dreams. Abby doesn't really know what to think of it, she has bad dreams too, but they usually don't come true. The thought of Sam having dreams that saw the future made Abby's stomach feel funny, and she thought it did the same for Dean based on his current demeanor.

That wasn't the only thing that was making Abby's stomach feel funny. Going back to the former Winchester home was something Abby definitely did not want to do. Abby couldn't even remember the place, having moved out of it before her first birthday, just a few months after Mom had died. All Abby wanted was to go on a normal hunt with Sam and Dean where no one had weird dreams and there were no memories in the place they were going. But Abigail Winchester did not often get what she wanted, and this occasion was no different than the norm.

But if Dean could go back to their house, when he had sworn to himself he wouldn't, to maybe help some people and for Sammy, Abby could be brave too. Right?

Abby looked warily at the plain blue house Dean had stalled Baby in front of. It looked too... normal. Abby hadn't been expecting to see the ghost of her mother standing on the front lawn or anything, but nothing about this house suggested that just nine years ago a woman, a mother, had been murdered by a demon inside it.

"You gonna be alright, man?" Abby registered Sam's comment as a reference to Dean's opposition to go back to their house. Dean had told Sam, during a conversation, Abby was present for but not involved in, that he had sworn to himself never to go back.

On the long car ride to Kansas, Abby had thought in excruciating depth about all the things Dean and Sam were probably thinking about going back to their old house. When Mary Winchester died, Dean had been in his junior year of high school, just having gotten his driver's license, and was excited to go to college in just a few short years, a landmark that would never come.

Dean had instead spent the last nine years hunting and taking care of Abby when John couldn't, or, though Abby would never admit it, even to herself, except late at night when she couldn't sleep, wouldn't. Sam had been twelve when he had watched his mother die, and almost been murdered himself by a demon. He remembered much of it, that much Abby knew from the panicked pleas Sam whispered in his sleep and the quiet conversations Abby had listened to when she shouldn't have been.

"Let me get back to you on that," was Dean's ever-stoic response to Sam, though Abby could see through his calm exterior to his clenched jaw and hands that were shaking ever so slightly as he walked up to the house.

Dean started to tell some lie about them being federal agents of some kind after the new owner, a young blonde woman opened the door, when Sam interrupted him with, to Abby and Dean's surprise, the truth.

"I'm Sam Winchester and these are my siblings Dean and Abby. Um.. we used to live here. You know, we were just driving by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place." So not the complete truth, but a lot more of it than normal.

"Winchester, that is so funny. You know, I-I think I found some of your photos the other night."

"You did?" Dean said, and even though he didn't give it away Abby could tell from the harsh swallow immediately after that he hadn't meant to come off so harsh. She prided herself on how well she could read her eldest brother, something pretty much no one else could.