Good dreams were scarce in the Winchester family as of late.
Abby's dreams were haunted by a boy with a gray shirt and scared eyes. Dean's by a little girl with blood on her face and eyes colder than before. Sam's dreams weren't haunted, in the normal sense. When he did dream, he dreamt of the future.
Abby wondered if they felt different than dreams where you saw the past. Those she was used to; those she knew like the back of her hand.
The idea of dreams set in the future, that made her stomach start to hurt. Especially when it was Sam having them. Prophetic dreams were something witches would have, or some other inhuman creature Sam and Dean hunted would have.
Not Abby's big brother.
At first, Abby had wanted to think they weren't real. Back in December, when her nose was never quite warm enough and there was always a bit of snow on the ground. But those hopes had melted away fast, and now in the heat of July, with the burning hot sun streaming through the windows of Dad's cabin, Abby wished to go back to December.
The papers covering the walls of this cabin were no longer mysteries to the Winchester siblings; their father had just spent the better part of two days explaining what his research meant, with some notes on how he found each part out.
Dad was explaining how about a year ago, when he left, it had been because he had picked up the demon's trail.
"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burnt down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us."
"Families with twelve-year-olds. Twelve and six months, every time."
"So basically this demon is going after these kids for some reason," Sam half-scoffed, "the same way it came for me." Abby was sitting at the table, on the side to Dad's left, while Sam leaning against the sink, facing them both. Dean had been quiet through all of this, his expression unreadable even to Abby.
"So Mom's death, Jessica- It's all 'cause of me?"
"We don't know that Sam," Dean said sharply.
"Oh really, 'cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean!" Sam snapped back.
"For the last time, what happened to them is not your fault."
"Yeah, you're right, it's not my fault, but it is my problem." Sam was yelling now. There had been more yelling in the past week than the eight months before.
"No, it's not your problem. It's our problem!" Dean yelled back.
"Okay, that's enough." Dad interrupted Sam and Dean's argument, standing up and starting to walk behind Abby's chair.
"So, why is it doing it?" the agitation in Sam's voice was obvious. 'What does it want?"
"Look, I wish I had more answers, I do." Dad had walked in front of the table, facing Sam alone now as Dean had taken Dad's spot at the table, standing next to Abby, the lone family member still sitting. "I've always been one step behind it. Look I've never gotten there in time to save..." Dad trailed off, looking away at something only he could see. Abby looked down at her lap, biting the inside of her cheek.
"All right, so, how do we find it before it hits again?" Dean asked.
"There are signs. Look it took me a while to see the pattern, but in the days before these fires, signs crop up in an area- cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked, and..."
"These things happened in Lawrence." Dean finished Dad's thought.
"The week before your mother died. And in Palo Alto... before Jessica. And these signs- they're starting again."
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Stay With Me (Hold My Hand) ⋆ SPN
Fanfiction"I had a brother who was my savior, made my childhood bearable." -Maurice Sendak Abigail (Abby) Winchester is just nine years old but the look on her face was always one of someone much older. There is tiredness and a sadness that is buried deep in...
