How Is This Kid a Winchester

Crickets chirped. A large tree with no leaves stood outside one of several suburban homes. The sights drew closer to one room. A room that looked a lot like her older brother had described in bedtime stories over the course of her seven years.

A Woman wearing a white nightgown carried a small child into the dark room. From stories and pictures, she knew the woman to be Mary, the mother of her brothers, and the boy the woman was holding to be Dean, her oldest sibling.

"Come on, let's say good night to your brother," Mary said ash they came through the open door. She turned on the lights. The crib's occupant is her other brother, Sam. Mary set Dean down. He climbed up the side of the crib to kiss his brother's forehead.

"Night, Sam," Little Dean said.

"Good night, love," Mary added before brushing Sam's hair back and doing the same thing Dean had done.

The dream continued as it had several times before. Their father coming in wearing a military T-shirt, everyone leaving the room to let Sam sleep, lights flashing on and off. All things Dean would have known about in person. And Sam through stories.

The one part of story she wasn't told about was how their father found Mary on the ceiling above Sam's crib. So how did that become a part of her dream? She hadn't even heard that part in passing. If it was discussed, it was never in her presence.

Just because she didn't know all the details, didn't mean she wasn't aware of the family business. Her father and brother didn't have much of a choice but to tell her when she had accidentally met her first supernatural being at the age of six. Since no one had told her why they never stayed in one place for more than a week or two, how was she supposed to know the unlabeled bucket of water she'd used as a distraction was Holy Water?

And where was Sam all this time? He had gone to college to live what the little girl thought was the normal life they'd had all along until her first incident. She hadn't even seen him since she was four years old. What she did remember of him was very little.

Her body jerked itself awake when the new part of the dream happened. She was in the back seat of her brother's car.

"Ho!" she nearly screamed. The last thing she remembered before crashing was sitting up. Now she was laying down. Her brother's favorite jacket under her head as a pillow.

"You okay back there, Abs?" Dean asked from the driver's seat.

"That was new," Abby said rubbing her eyes. After her encounter with a demon, she still scared easy. But as long as her family was out there fighting these things off, she somehow felt safe enough to keep the nightmares away.

"What was new?"

"Nothing... but it's no longer a dream." Abby sat up. It was dark out. The last time she remembered stopping anywhere was around sunset, four hours earlier. "DD?"

"Yeah, Shortround?"

"I'm not short," Abby pouted. "I'm-"

"Funsized. What was your question?"

"Was it blue? Or yellow?"

"What? Was what blue or yellow, Abs?"

"The fire." Dean continued driving. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She'd never seen him react that way to any of her questions before. He knew exactly what she meant. What he couldn't figure out was how his sister knew. "Never mind, forget I asked... where are we, anyway."

Dean's grip had loosened now that the subject was changed. All he had said when the road trip started was that they had to pick someone up. He never was big on details unless he had to be when it came to Abby's questions about the job.

"What'd you see?"

"Some lady on a ceiling. Then there was a blue flame."

"It was just a dream, Kiddo. Sometimes dreams get things wrong."

His grip tightened again. He knew his father hadn't told her this and she'd never had access to anything they didn't give her. So, he didn't understand how she knew what color the flames were. It wasn't to keep her in the dark. The kid was family, but that didn't make avenging Mary's death her mission.

"Try to get some more sleep, Cupcake. We're almost there."

Abby nodded and laid back down. Sleep would not come to her. Probably because Dean had said they were almost to their destination, but mostly because of the dream's new addition.

He probably knew she'd turn shy and the bubbly kid he'd come to know would disappear. She was like that with people she didn't know. Between destinations, she was giggly, never stopped talking, and was always begging them to stop at a park. Put her in front of a stranger and she was the exact opposite.

~***~***~

"I could have stayed in the car, DD."

"You're seven, Abs. I'm not leaving you alone unless I absolutely have to."

"So all those other times you had me stay in the car?" She held her tongue at the small glare Dean sent her way. That was the end of that argument. "You still haven't told me where we are or why we're breaking into someone's house."

"Remember Sammy?" Dean asked as he jimmied the lock on a window. He slid the glass up, then held his hands out in her direction. "Arms."

"Barely," Abby replied. Dean lifted her into the air and fed her through the open space, feet first. Her answer was a little louder than anticipated so he shushed her. Abby rolled her eyes, receiving a tap that, for a seven-year-old, felt like a two-by-four hitting the back of her head. Her hand immediately went up to feel the spot and she retaliated. Her weak muscles were nothing compared to his.

He pointed to a portion of a sofa in a dark corner, telling her to go sit in it while he went and opened the fridge, making all sorts of noise. As far as Abby was concerned, that made less sense than her minor outburst which was relatively quiet compared to the clinking of glass.

It was very late at night, maybe even early morning, like one in the morning early, so Abby was definitely beyond tired at her age. As Dean rummaged through the fridge, Abby sat on the sofa. Her head leaned back against the arm rest. Numb, burning eyes closed and she slept until there were crashing sounds. Furniture breaking. She wasn't out long.

Two men were throwing each other about the room. All she saw were their shadows. Heard the grunts that came with the physical contact of fists to cheeks or other parts of their bodies. The fight stops once the homeowner got a look at his attacker who was now on top of him.

"Whoa, easy, tiger," Dean said from above the other man's body.

"Dean?" the other man, Sam, said in confusion. Dean laughed. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice."

Sam grabbed Dean's hand and yanked, slamming his heel into his brother's back, smashing him to the floor.

"Or not." Sam tapped Dean twice where he was holding him.

"DD?"

"Get off of me. You woke Shortround."

"Wait, Abby's here?" Sam asked, looking around without letting go of his brother.

"I told you, I'm not short," she mumbled from the sofa.

"I know. I know. You're funsized, whatever that means."

"It's a candy, Meanie."

Sam rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up. "What the hell are you doing here?" he said as he went over to the child. She remembered him enough that she didn't shrink away but that didn't mean she was entirely comfortable. Afterall, she was four or five the last time she saw him. But Dean seemed to feel pretty safe with him so until that sense changed, things were going to be okay.

"Well, I was looking for a beer. And the little one needed sleep that didn't involve the back seat of my car or a crappy hotel bed... Got any apple or grape juice? Water?"

Sam sighed. "Did you see it in the fridge? Dean, I don't care if you stay for a little while to get some rest, but you still haven't answered my question. What the hell are you doing here?"

Dean walked over to Abby and removed a blanket from the back of Sam's sofa, draping it over their little sister's body. He gently pushed her down, letting her know she was safe and could get some sleep.

"Hey, hey. Watch the language in front of the kid, okay. All right. We gotta talk."

"You're one to talk about language control in front of a little kid," Sam said as he made the sign for a phone, holding his hand in a 'Y' to his ear.

"If I'd called, would you have picked up? Abby doesn't have a phone so you definitely wouldn't answer for her."

A woman turned on the light, clearly having just been awakened by the ruckus. The sight of a man she'd never met in the middle of their living room and a sleepy child on the sofa was a surprise. The woman was wearing very short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt.

She wasn't as tired as she sounded when she said, "Sam?"

Both men turned to face the new voice.

"Jess. Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

Dean looked at her in a proud sort of way. Maybe even a little surprised that what he knew of his geeky, awkward, younger brother was able to get someone like her.

"Wait, your brother Dean?" Jess smiled. Sam nodded. "Then this little one must be Abby."

Dean grins at her and moves closer. She was way out of Sam's league, and he even mentioned that when he acknowledged the woman's Smurfs shirt.

She offered to put something else on because while she was flattered by what was meant as a compliment, the way Dean said it combined with his gestures and where his eyes had been was a little weird.

"No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously," he said, stopping her.

"DD?" Abby grabbed onto him, not wanting to be left alone with a stranger.

"It's okay, Abs," he said, first to his sister, then added to Jess, "Would you mind watching her for a few minutes? Sammy and I just need to talk about some private family business." What he didn't see was Sam's expression change to stone at the use of his childhood nickname. "But, uh, nice meeting you."

"DD, Sammy hates being called that," the little girl giggled, clearly enjoying the light banter.

Sam bent down to her level with a grin on his face. He couldn't be too upset with her for calling him that. It wasn't her fault no one told her that nickname was used during a specific age of his life he didn't wish to relive. "And who gets away with calling older brothers embarrassing nicknames?"

"Puppy-eyed little sisters who are raised by their annoying brothers."

"You're not so innocent, yourself, Kiddo," Dean said, giving Sam the come with me gesture.

"What's wrong with DD?" she asked, still not understanding what was wrong with Sammy.

"You'll know in a few years."

Sam refused to go with his brother. He went over to Jess and put an arm around her. Whatever Dean had to say, he could say it in front of his girlfriend. He had nothing to hide from her.

"Okay." The expression on Dean's face as he turned to face his little brother who was now taller than he was, should have told Sam he was going to regret that thought. "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Abby listened to her brothers go back and forth until Dean used a special word that changed the tone of the whole discussion. To anyone else who wasn't like their family, or being chased down by such people, the word hunt wouldn't mean more than a trip out to the woods for a deer, bear, maybe even a wild turkey for Thanksgiving. This wasn't that kind of hunt, and Jess didn't know anything about that part of her man's life.

"Jess, will you watch Abby for a minute? We have to go outside."Crickets chirped. A large tree with no leaves stood outside one of several suburban homes. The sights drew closer to one room. A room that looked a lot like her older brother had described in bedtime stories over the course of her seven years.

A Woman wearing a white nightgown carried a small child into the dark room. From stories and pictures, she knew the woman to be Mary, the mother of her brothers, and the boy the woman was holding to be Dean, her oldest sibling.

"Come on, let's say good night to your brother," Mary said ash they came through the open door. She turned on the lights. The crib's occupant is her other brother, Sam. Mary set Dean down. He climbed up the side of the crib to kiss his brother's forehead.

"Night, Sam," Little Dean said.

"Good night, love," Mary added before brushing Sam's hair back and doing the same thing Dean had done.

The dream continued as it had several times before. Their father coming in wearing a military T-shirt, everyone leaving the room to let Sam sleep, lights flashing on and off. All things Dean would have known about in person. And Sam through stories.

The one part of story she wasn't told about was how their father found Mary on the ceiling above Sam's crib. So how did that become a part of her dream? She hadn't even heard that part in passing. If it was discussed, it was never in her presence.

Just because she didn't know all the details, didn't mean she wasn't aware of the family business. Her father and brother didn't have much of a choice but to tell her when she had accidentally met her first supernatural being at the age of six. Since no one had told her why they never stayed in one place for more than a week or two, how was she supposed to know the unlabeled bucket of water she'd used as a distraction was Holy Water?

And where was Sam all this time? He had gone to college to live what the little girl thought was the normal life they'd had all along until her first incident. She hadn't even seen him since she was four years old. What she did remember of him was very little.

Her body jerked itself awake when the new part of the dream happened. She was in the back seat of her brother's car.

"Ho!" she nearly screamed. The last thing she remembered before crashing was sitting up. Now she was laying down. Her brother's favorite jacket under her head as a pillow.

"You okay back there, Abs?" Dean asked from the driver's seat.

"That was new," Abby said rubbing her eyes. After her encounter with a demon, she still scared easy. But as long as her family was out there fighting these things off, she somehow felt safe enough to keep the nightmares away.

"What was new?"

"Nothing... but it's no longer a dream." Abby sat up. It was dark out. The last time she remembered stopping anywhere was around sunset, four hours earlier. "DD?"

"Yeah, Shortround?"

"I'm not short," Abby pouted. "I'm-"

"Funsized. What was your question?"

"Was it blue? Or yellow?"

"What? Was what blue or yellow, Abs?"

"The fire." Dean continued driving. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She'd never seen him react that way to any of her questions before. He knew exactly what she meant. What he couldn't figure out was how his sister knew. "Never mind, forget I asked... where are we, anyway."

Dean's grip had loosened now that the subject was changed. All he had said when the road trip started was that they had to pick someone up. He never was big on details unless he had to be when it came to Abby's questions about the job.

"What'd you see?"

"Some lady on a ceiling. Then there was a blue flame."

"It was just a dream, Kiddo. Sometimes dreams get things wrong."

His grip tightened again. He knew his father hadn't told her this and she'd never had access to anything they didn't give her. So, he didn't understand how she knew what color the flames were. It wasn't to keep her in the dark. The kid was family, but that didn't make avenging Mary's death her mission.

"Try to get some more sleep, Cupcake. We're almost there."

Abby nodded and laid back down. Sleep would not come to her. Probably because Dean had said they were almost to their destination, but mostly because of the dream's new addition.

He probably knew she'd turn shy and the bubbly kid he'd come to know would disappear. She was like that with people she didn't know. Between destinations, she was giggly, never stopped talking, and was always begging them to stop at a park. Put her in front of a stranger and she was the exact opposite.

~***~***~

"I could have stayed in the car, DD."

"You're seven, Abs. I'm not leaving you alone unless I absolutely have to."

"So all those other times you had me stay in the car?" She held her tongue at the small glare Dean sent her way. That was the end of that argument. "You still haven't told me where we are or why we're breaking into someone's house."

"Remember Sammy?" Dean asked as he jimmied the lock on a window. He slid the glass up, then held his hands out in her direction. "Arms."

"Barely," Abby replied. Dean lifted her into the air and fed her through the open space, feet first. Her answer was a little louder than anticipated so he shushed her. Abby rolled her eyes, receiving a tap that, for a seven-year-old, felt like a two-by-four hitting the back of her head. Her hand immediately went up to feel the spot and she retaliated. Her weak muscles were nothing compared to his.

He pointed to a portion of a sofa in a dark corner, telling her to go sit in it while he went and opened the fridge, making all sorts of noise. As far as Abby was concerned, that made less sense than her minor outburst which was relatively quiet compared to the clinking of glass.

It was very late at night, maybe even early morning, like one in the morning early, so Abby was definitely beyond tired at her age. As Dean rummaged through the fridge, Abby sat on the sofa. Her head leaned back against the arm rest. Numb, burning eyes closed and she slept until there were crashing sounds. Furniture breaking. She wasn't out long.

Two men were throwing each other about the room. All she saw were their shadows. Heard the grunts that came with the physical contact of fists to cheeks or other parts of their bodies. The fight stops once the homeowner got a look at his attacker who was now on top of him.

"Whoa, easy, tiger," Dean said from above the other man's body.

"Dean?" the other man, Sam, said in confusion. Dean laughed. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"That's 'cause you're out of practice."

Sam grabbed Dean's hand and yanked, slamming his heel into his brother's back, smashing him to the floor.

"Or not." Sam tapped Dean twice where he was holding him.

"DD?"

"Get off of me. You woke Shortround."

"Wait, Abby's here?" Sam asked, looking around without letting go of his brother.

"I told you, I'm not short," she mumbled from the sofa.

"I know. I know. You're funsized, whatever that means."

"It's a candy, Meanie."

Sam rolled to his feet and pulled Dean up. "What the hell are you doing here?" he said as he went over to the child. She remembered him enough that she didn't shrink away but that didn't mean she was entirely comfortable. Afterall, she was four or five the last time she saw him. But Dean seemed to feel pretty safe with him so until that sense changed, things were going to be okay.

"Well, I was looking for a beer. And the little one needed sleep that didn't involve the back seat of my car or a crappy hotel bed... Got any apple or grape juice? Water?"

Sam sighed. "Did you see it in the fridge? Dean, I don't care if you stay for a little while to get some rest, but you still haven't answered my question. What the hell are you doing here?"

Dean walked over to Abby and removed a blanket from the back of Sam's sofa, draping it over their little sister's body. He gently pushed her down, letting her know she was safe and could get some sleep.

"Hey, hey. Watch the language in front of the kid, okay. All right. We gotta talk."

"You're one to talk about language control in front of a little kid," Sam said as he made the sign for a phone, holding his hand in a 'Y' to his ear.

"If I'd called, would you have picked up? Abby doesn't have a phone so you definitely wouldn't answer for her."

A woman turned on the light, clearly having just been awakened by the ruckus. The sight of a man she'd never met in the middle of their living room and a sleepy child on the sofa was a surprise. The woman was wearing very short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt.

She wasn't as tired as she sounded when she said, "Sam?"

Both men turned to face the new voice.

"Jess. Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica."

Dean looked at her in a proud sort of way. Maybe even a little surprised that what he knew of his geeky, awkward, younger brother was able to get someone like her.

"Wait, your brother Dean?" Jess smiled. Sam nodded. "Then this little one must be Abby."

Dean grins at her and moves closer. She was way out of Sam's league, and he even mentioned that when he acknowledged the woman's Smurfs shirt.

She offered to put something else on because while she was flattered by what was meant as a compliment, the way Dean said it combined with his gestures and where his eyes had been was a little weird.

"No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously," he said, stopping her.

"DD?" Abby grabbed onto him, not wanting to be left alone with a stranger.

"It's okay, Abs," he said, first to his sister, then added to Jess, "Would you mind watching her for a few minutes? Sammy and I just need to talk about some private family business." What he didn't see was Sam's expression change to stone at the use of his childhood nickname. "But, uh, nice meeting you."

"DD, Sammy hates being called that," the little girl giggled, clearly enjoying the light banter.

Sam bent down to her level with a grin on his face. He couldn't be too upset with her for calling him that. It wasn't her fault no one told her that nickname was used during a specific age of his life he didn't wish to relive. "And who gets away with calling older brothers embarrassing nicknames?"

"Puppy-eyed little sisters who are raised by their annoying brothers."

"You're not so innocent, yourself, Kiddo," Dean said, giving Sam the come with me gesture.

"What's wrong with DD?" she asked, still not understanding what was wrong with Sammy.

"You'll know in a few years."

Sam refused to go with his brother. He went over to Jess and put an arm around her. Whatever Dean had to say, he could say it in front of his girlfriend. He had nothing to hide from her.

"Okay." The expression on Dean's face as he turned to face his little brother who was now taller than he was, should have told Sam he was going to regret that thought. "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Abby listened to her brothers go back and forth until Dean used a special word that changed the tone of the whole discussion. To anyone else who wasn't like their family, or being chased down by such people, the word hunt wouldn't mean more than a trip out to the woods for a deer, bear, maybe even a wild turkey for Thanksgiving. This wasn't that kind of hunt, and Jess didn't know anything about that part of her man's life.

"Jess, will you watch Abby for a minute? We have to go outside."