Disclaimer: I do not own the concept or characters from the show "Supernatural." Any other characters not related to the show, The Vampire Diaries or Nightwold series, however, are mine and are not to be used in any other fan fiction. Some concepts were also borrowed or loosely adapted from L.J. Smith's "Nightworld" and "The Vampire Diaries" series. The original stories were developed using SPN episode content up until 02/11/10 and this one may include anything up through 2019. I will not include any spoilers for future episodes of Season 15, though my story took its turn after SPN Season 4. This is the start of a new trilogy. The first trilogy is: "Possession," "Broken," and "Sacrifice," followed with a new trilogy, "Mission," "Prelude," and "Bound." This story takes place where Prelude left off and has the same characters from the first trilogy. I do not own any quotes used in the actual episodes.

"NO!"

Sam was sitting up in the hotel bed on his laptop. He turned to glance over at the other full-sized bed. His brother had his head in his hands, soaked with sweat again. Dean shook his head and reached for the half-drunk beer on the nightstand before getting up to grab another one.

Sam tried giving his brother the benefit of the doubt. Dean was hurting worse than he had for a long time. But his brother wasn't swimming up for air, and he was descending to the bottom and not trying to save himself. On their last hunt, it was clear Dean let the demon catch him. And his big brother was lucky he came out of it with just a dislocated shoulder and about twenty stitches. If Sam hadn't gotten to Dean in time—

"Bad dream," Sam asked with a snappy undertone, not bothering to look over at his brother.

"Don't worry about it," Dean grumbled, running his hands through his shaggy hair.

"You keep telling me that, but I'm worried," Sam admitted. "You've been getting only an hour or two a day, TOPS."

"No way, it's been more than that—"

Sam held up his phone that had a timer open. He had set it to run after Dean eventually fell asleep. He stopped it at the twenty-five-minute mark. That's it.

"What, you've been keeping' tabs on my sleep, ya weirdo? I'm tellin' you; I'm golden."

"Dean, you almost drove us off the road last night because you fell asleep at the wheel. Dude, sleep deprivation is a legitimate form of torture. You can't keep going like this! Are you trying to kill yourself?!"

"Go to Hell," his brother snapped.

Fine. If Dean was going to act that way and not even talk about it, Sam wasn't going to stick around. He couldn't do it anymore. The only reason they were on this damn trip was to support his brother, but if his brother didn't want his support, then fine. Sam grabbed his bag and laptop and the keys.

"Hey, where are you going this late?!"

"It's only 7 p.m., Dean. You passed out at 6:30. You told me to get ready to go out and get food. When I came out of the bathroom, and I found you passed out on the bed," Sam said as he slammed the door behind him.


He couldn't sleep. Well, that was a lie; he was fucking debilitated, but every time he closed his damn eyes—it was goddamn brutal. So instead, he decided to sit at the table with his laptop, waiting for something weird to pop up on the radar. He hoped for it. He needed a distraction. Alcohol, bacon, hunting, and porn were the only things working for that these days.

Much to his regret, there were no new messages on his phone. Dean's eyes peered over to the phone on the other side of the table. The one with the cherry red case—Abby's. She had lost it in the field the night she left. He had come across it when they were hunting for her and April. He was keeping it charged just in case any of her contacts needed any help. After all, she was a hunter too. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

Dean had barely looked at it besides that. Every single damn time he did, his chest hurt. Fuck it. He took a shot of whiskey courage and grabbed it, pressing the power button. The background was a photo of a beach sunset. Because, of course, it was...no new messages. He should put it back on the table. Dean sighed and reluctantly pressed the photo icon.

Man, had she taken a crap-load of pictures. She had documented their kids' lives from birth. Though there was a noticeable jump in the twins' case, they jumped straight from toddler to six-year-old and then through to their last trip. But little Jamie's progression of photos was complete—from baby to goofy tween. He couldn't help but grin with quiet gratitude, happy that she had done it for his sake. There were times that Dean was gone a month or so at a time, that he felt like he missed out on a lot.

As he scrolled, one photo from a Halloween many years before stopped him in his tracks. The twins looked to be about ten, and that meant Jamie was four. He thought back on that night, shaking his head and smiling.

"Come on, guys, I want a picture before we leave!"

Dean stood up from his recliner and turned to help wrangle the kids for their mom's obligatory Halloween photo. He didn't know how she could get so excited for Halloween, considering Halloween was their lives 24/7. She decked out the front yard with a graveyard scene and everything. It was ironically adorable.

"Come on, dudes and dudette! Chop, chop! The faster you get this done, the quicker you get to that sweet candy," he yelled up the stairs. He could hear them bounding down fast.

"Stop pushing," Dylan yelled, as his sister rushed past him, practically knocking the kid over.

"Then move faster," April snapped back as she jumped from the fourth stair down to ground level.

"Hey," Dean said, catching her by the cape. "You; be nice to your brother. Got it?"

"Okay, Daddy," his daughter gave him a grin that reminded him of a demon. Man, she was going to be trouble as a teenager. He just felt it in his bones.

"Fine, just hurry up, bud," she called from the top of the stairs. Dean walked over and watched her make her way down. Holy crap. She emerged dressed in a skintight matte black jumpsuit that left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every beautiful curve of her body. Her dark hair was down in waves, pulled off her face with a cat-eared headband. Her black heeled boots clicked on the floor as she reached the bottom landing, and she accidentally ran right into him as she was looking at her phone. Well, that wasn't entirely true; he may have put himself in her way. "Oh, sorry, hon," she said, as his hands caught her slender waist.

"Catwoman," he crookedly smiled as she fixed the ears on top of her headband. He grabbed her phone from her hand and put it on the entryway table. "You know you're going to have a bunch of Comic-Con nerds following you around tonight. You're a total MILF." He whispered the full words for the MILF acronym in her ear, and there was a hitch in her breath.

"Kids wanted to do a theme this year. Thus, this," she rolled her eyes, motioning her hand up and down. He had no problem following her hands visually.

"Batman is a decent theme." And currently his favorite theme ever.

"Well, if you would come out with us, you could have been Batman."

"But I am Batman,'' he teased with a cocky shrug. She giggled and shook her head, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Uh-huh, you just keep telling yourself that? Is that a cursed rabbit's foot in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me," she laughed as he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Actually, I thought because of the flannel you've got going on...90s grunge rocker or sexy lumberjack. Either way, I'm down," Abby kissed him lightly on the lips, teasing him. "Come out with us. What if I said they are giving out free pies? Would you be able to turn that down?"

Wait—they were giving out free pie?

"You know I can't. It's Halloween. Bad things tend to happen. Tonight's the night when stupid Twilight obsessed teenage girls watch The Craft and accidentally summon demons. I'm on call," he sighed, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

"We're always on call, and you do know there are these things called cell phones," she pouted. It was going to be hard to turn her down when she sulked, and she damn well knew it. Besides, Dean had plans to be lazy.

"Abby, don't. I'll just stay here, unpack a couple of boxes, give out candy to the little ankle biters and wait for the other shoe to drop. Besides, there's plenty of crappy movies tonight. There is plenty of beer in the fridge, and pumpkin pie left on the stove. You guys will be bringing candy home. And I'll be honest; it'll be quiet, and I need that."

"Yeah, these kids, right? Hey, knock it off, you two!" She called the twins fighting over something in the kitchen. "Get your little butts over here!"

Both the kids huffed and came over to their parents. They were both dressed in the same black suit with matching capes.

"Wait, are they Parent Trapping us; you're both Batman," Dean questioned with confusion, looking from one to the other.

"No, Dad, I'm Batgirl. There's a big difference," April sassed, rolling her green eyes before heading upstairs. "I'm going to help Jamie!"

"Me too," Dylan said, following her bounding up the steps after her.

"Stop copying me, Dyl!"

Abby had her obsidian eyes shut and was slowly counting to ten, rubbing her temples. "You sure you don't want to come," she asked again, almost begging him to come along for her sanity.

"After that? Very," Dean grinned. "So what's taking Jamie so long?"

"He insisted on dressing himself. Mr. Independent. I just hope Robin put everything on in the right order." Her eyes shifted towards the landing on the stairs, contemplating if she should go in the for the assist. His mind was focusing less on that and more on the lame character he chose.

"Robin? He chose Robin and not the Joker?"

"He's four," she chuckled. Well, he couldn't argue with that. The kid just didn't know any better.

"Well, I gotta say, you look great," he admired, his hands rubbing her hips. "Like...super hot." Dean tugged her forward until they pressed firmly against each other. Her hands played with the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. Then it was on. His hands traveled over her body before he slid them up her front, finding the zipper of her tight costume. He slowly pulled it down, causing her to moan against his mouth and him to grin. It was evident by the skin he could see; she had nothing on underneath.

"Hi, Dad." SHIT.

He quickly zipped Abby's costume back up and straightened up, moving back and just wrapping an arm around her waist. Smooth.

"What were you doing," April asked, looking between the two of them, an eyebrow ticked upward. Maybe not as smooth as he thought.

"Uh, Mom had a problem with her zipper. I fixed it," he lied, smiling and shrugged. Abby put a hand to her forehead and lowered her red face, clearly embarrassed for both of them. He clapped, rubbed his hands together, and took Abby's phone from the table. "Okay, let's get this picture over with, so you can get your crime-fighting butts out there. Remember, if you get to choose the treats, avoid any of that chalky crap; go for the chocolate. I expect you guys to give your mom some of that candy for taking you all out. Especially you two," he pointed between April and Dylan.

The four of them went in front of the fireplace and smiled. Dylan and April did superhero poses while Abby held a smiling Jamie. Dean quickly took a photo and put the phone on the end table, and was ready to help his wife get the kids out the door. It was always 2-3 now, and Abby pointed out that they were on zone defense.

"Okay, gang, get your treat bags and let's go," Abby ordered as she put Jamie down with a kiss to his temple. Three kids scrambled, giggling as they seized their bags from the dining room table. It looked like a shark feeding frenzy. Abby grinned, shaking her head, and sauntered over to Dean, putting her arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. It was small and short, almost a peck, but even the smallest from Abby meant everything. After what they'd been through, he wasn't taking any kiss from her for granted.

"Gotcha," April announced, snapping a photo of them with her mom's phone. "Daddy and Mommy, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N—" Both Dean and Abby rolled their eyes.

"GO," they commanded in unison and pointed to the door. Abby grabbed the phone out of April's hand as the girl passed. "I'll be out in a second, kids." Abby turned to leave, but Dean clutched her around the waist and tugged her closer, her back pressed against his front.

"Don't you dare take that off when you get home," he whispered in her ear and kissed her right behind her right ear. He could feel the goosebumps even under her costumes. "Now go, have fun with the kiddos. I'll see you later." He slapped her rear and sent her on her way.

Dean had almost forgotten about that until he swiped to go to the next photo. It was the photo April had randomly taken of them stealing a kiss that night. He in his jeans and grey flannel, holding her in her black catsuit. Their eyes closed, his hands on her lower back, their lips touching; the two of them caught in a moment.

He always thought Abby had deleted it. It turns out, she kept it and even named the photo D+A. Sometimes Abby was so damn corny. If she was there, he would have ribbed her for that for sure. They looked so natural—and so damn happy. And, man, did he love her, more than he thought he was capable of loving anyone else. Which was why he was doing everything he could to shove everything down before he went completely off the rails.


Sam came back to the room with food for dinner and some melatonin for his brother. He honestly wished he could slip him a horse tranquilizer at this point. When Sam entered the hotel room, to his surprise, his brother was sitting at the table, swiping through images on a cellphone. And, to his further shock, it wasn't his phone; this one had a bright red case.

"Hey," Sam greeted, setting a few bags on the table. "Got you a double cheeseburger with bacon, fries, and an apology slice of pie. I'm just worried about you, man."

"I know," Dean admitted. "I get it. I'd be the same if you were like this."

Sam opened the bag and shoved his brother his burger. Dean just kept scrolling through the phone.

"Whatcha looking at," Sam asked while opening his wrapper. He knew what he was looking at, but he wanted to see if his brother was going to even acknowledge it. That would at least be a step.

There was a pause. Maybe this wasn't going to be a breakthrough.

"Ab's phone..."

Holy crap. Dean said her name.

"...I was just going to check out messages, see if anyone left any cases. And then I—it's nothing," Dean deflected, setting the phone face down on the wooden table.

"No, what?" There was no way Sam was going to just let it go if Dean was willing to talk. Dean hesitantly took the phone from the table, smiling sadly at the photo.

"Just started looking through old pictures. I found one I thought Abby deleted," he slid the phone over to Sam, who had a nervous look on his face. What kind of photo would Dean have expected her to delete? "It's not THAT kinda photo, you dork. I have a secret place for those." Sam flipped the phone over and looked at the image of his brother and his sister-in-law.

"Cute. Who took it?"

"April, my little pain in the ass. I could swear Abs erased it years ago, hell I thought it was blurry with little kid fingers over the lens. It's a good pic, and she kept it," he said, taking a drink.

"When was this? The kids look so small," Sam chuckled softly. "Wait, was this the house in Saginaw?"

"Yeah. We had to get the hell outta Chicago. Remember we had a demon and witch thing go sideways, and they found out about us? So we had to move the kids again. I think we had to do that...like three or four times when the kids were little?"

"Yeah, we all moved right around Halloween. Wait, that was when you invited me over for breakfast the day after we got settled—and I walked in on you and Abby having sex in the living room."

Dean's eyes drifted down to the table, and he laughed harder than Sam had heard in a long time. That alone made Sam smile. It was good to hear. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that one. It was the first day of school the day after Halloween, and all three of them were finally going. She was all upset after J-man got on the bus, and the night before was just a complete cluster. And it was the first time we had the house to ourselves ever. So...you know." He shrugged in a way that showed his older brother was totally unrepentant.

"That's all well and good, Dean, except you told me to come over the next morning—"

"Well, Sam, clearly you should have knocked—"

"I did. I knocked several times and no answer—"

"Yeah, you let yourself into our house, what am I supposed to put a sock on the door to my own house to warn you—"

"There are these things called cellphones, Dean. You could have texted—"

"And say what, Abby and I are screwing in the living room, come back later?"

"Yeah, any kind of heads up would have been nice—"

"Yeah, well, your fault for just letting yourself in—"

"You gave me the damn spare key in case something was wrong, and I knew you were home, and I didn't hear an answer so—"

"So you let yourself in and got an eye-full and deserved what you got. Sorry, Sammy."

What Sam walked in on was his brother and sister-in-law naked under a blanket on the living room floor. And his brother was on top of Abby. And they were making those noises. Yeah. When Sam dropped the three coffees he brought over to try to cover his eyes, Dean and Abby stopped what they were doing and looked over to the sound. Abby screamed and slid down, covering her head under the blanket as Dean just shook his head and laughed. Eventually, Abby stuck her hand out of the blanket and waved and told Sam to go wait outside until she could get dressed.

"Well, you both look happy in the picture," Sam smiled sadly, turning his attention back to the photo before sliding the phone back to his brother.

"Yeah, we were," Dean admitted with a sigh, rubbing his face.

"You need to eat, and here," Sam tossed him a bottle of melatonin. "Take some of those, take a hot shower, and try to sleep. Seriously, Dean. This will kill you."

"It's just every time I try to go down—"

"You see her—I get it—was the same way with Jess," Sam candidly admitted. "Remember?"

"Yeah." Realizing he had been on the other side of this issue before, Dean conceded and took a bite of the burger Sam had brought him. Sam exhaled a sigh of relief. At least his big brother was being more reasonable.

They ate together in silence, sitting at the table just digesting and fooling around on their laptops. Sam looked at the time and wanted to make sure Dean had enough time to sleep.

"Sammy? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, yeah, anything…"

"Why didn't you grab her body? I mean, if we had her body, there might've been a chance that we could bring her back. So why," Dean asked the words just coming out, looking at his brother for answers. He had no filter left in his sleeplessness.

"Dean—I tried. I was going to have Gwen help me carry her out—but there was so much going on, and it was hard to see...people were fighting—and then these beams started coming down from the ceiling and—then there was no way to get her. But I did try, Dean. I thought the same thing. I wish I could go back and try again. But—is that even possible after the demon blade?"

"I don't know, but it would have been nice to figure it out. If I would have just left A.C. and ran in with you…"

"I'm glad you didn't," Sam admitted. "I wish I didn't have that image in my mind." It was one that would never erase from his memory. And if it was almost too much for him to bear, he could only imagine if Dean would have witnessed—

"You know, Bobby told me that...that there's going to be this hole in your chest. I've felt it a few times before….but this—it's fucking awful. And you try to fill it with anything and distract yourself—and pretend that it's not there, but it's just…. I can't get out of it, Sammy. And you're right; I wasn't sure the other night. I just want it to go away," his brother paused, struggling for words, unable to meet his younger brother's eyes. "Man, I haven't even called my damn kids in what...I can't even remember the last time I called. That's a dick John Winchester move—and it's because they remind me of her. And that's shitty because I know they're struggling too..."

"I've been calling and checking in," Sam admitted. "They're fine. They understand"

Dean nodded his thanks. He stood up and grabbed the bottle of melatonin, looking at it and shaking his head and then looking at his brother, he rolled his eyes and took a few.

"Dean? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," his brother said in a clipped tone.

"I know you've been going off on your own and coming back with blood spatter—"

"Nope. Drop it, Sam," he replied in short. There was something in the way his brother had said it; he was hiding something for sure. "Well, that's enough bearing of the soul for me tonight. Now I feel dirty, so," Dean pointed to the bathroom as he walked in that direction. Sam sighed with relief as the shower turned on.


Dean laid in bed, listening to some Zep tunes on his headphones. Sammy was still wide awake. Figures. He was waiting to make sure Dean knocked out first. He did all the things his little brother asked him to do; he ate, took a long shower, took that herbal remedy sleep crap, and was going to bed, or at least trying to. His mind would not shut off recently. He kept thinking about what Sam had asked him about and how he had noticed his habits. Dean had to be more careful. He still had a few names left on his list.

He needed to get his mind on something else ASAP. Somehow that resulted in him grabbing Abby's phone from the table and skimming through the photos again. He didn't realize how many stupid surprise ambush selfies she took of herself with him. God, she was a dork. A hot dork, but a dork. There were a lot of her and the kids making goofy faces. It was her whole life. From the looks of it, most of her memories seemed to be happy, but he knew her and her history, so he knew better. She deserved better.

He scrolled back to the start and realized there were hundreds of photos he'd never seen stored on her phone's memory card. They were all dated before they met. Pictures of her and her brother from all over the country having a good time. Surprise selfies weren't a new thing for her—photos of her at the bar with her friends doing shots. Photos of clues from cases she must never have deleted. Some of the earliest saved photos were originally-printed photos.

Man, some had to have been a hundred years old...and she still looked hot. Probably because he knew what was going on under all those ruffles and layers. But his favorite photos were the ones of her going to concerts. Oh. My. God. She'd gone to see Zeppelin, live, in '72. There she was in the crowd, her long shaggy hair, low cut jeans, and cut off tank-top like five rows from Page and Plant. Lucky bitch. He had to admit; he was super jealous. Funny how she had never mentioned that before.

As he scrolled, he found his eyes getting heavier. He kept scrolling back to the photo that April took on Halloween. Just the two of them together as his eyes finally closed...

"So," she practically purred, her back pressed against the wall in the living room. She had one heeled boot up against the wall, her hands hidden behind her back. One corner of her mouth quirked up devilishly.

"So, the rugrats are finally asleep...and we're finally alone…," he responded, moving closer to her across the room.

"So, Batman, you've finally caught Catwoman, and I've been a naughty girl," Abby smiled seductively. She pulled out one hand, showing a pair of handcuffs dangling from her index finger. Holy mother of everything holy.

"A little roleplay, huh? Are those the ones from my duffle bag," Dean pointed to the handcuffs she was holding. "Because, sweetie, I don't have the keys for those anymore. I lost 'em. Besides, that pair has always been a little wonky," he admitted with a smile. Now directly in front of her, he pulled her body forward, his fingers on the dip of her waist.

"Well, then you're just going to have to pick the lock afterward. You know how I love watching you work. You're so good with your hands," Abby winked.

God, he loved it when she talked like that. He swore that if she said "Meow" like Pfeiffer in Batman Returns, he was going to lose it. But, he was seriously worried about getting her out of those cuffs later.

Dean rubbed her shapely hips up and down before his hands wandered her body. Her head tilted back, and a soft moan escaped. He would never tire of her reactions. Ever. His hands continued tracing her curves, caressing across her chest, then her arms as she shifted her weight. He worked back over to the front of her costume and coasted the zipper open, deliberately slow, causing her breath to hitch. He undid the front and snaked his hand underneath the fabric to touch her bare skin as he brought his head down, setting kisses along the line of her exposed collarbone. His mouth moved up her neck as she squirmed under his touch.

He stopped his purpose and raised his head. She opened her dark eyes, meeting him, searching for a reason. To be honest, he had no idea why he did either. He just had the sudden urge to freeze the moment and memorize every damn part of her. He wanted to take his time. God, she was gorgeous. How did he get so damn lucky, he thought, his hand brushing her cheek. She nuzzled her cheek into his hand, brushing the palm and each finger with her soft lips.

"Dean, honey, I would love to do this whole sweet, romantic, drawn-out thing playing in your head. I do because I love you and one of these days we will spend hours like we used to...but tonight...we don't have a lot of time so—"

She suddenly reached up and yanked him down to her, and there was no gentleness behind her kiss. It was clear she did not want to be cutesy. She was a woman on a mission, and that was fine by him. There was nothing sexier than a woman who knew what they wanted.

He grabbed her rear and hoisted her up, her legs winding around his waist in response. He groaned as her soft body countered his hard. He carried back towards the stairs while they were still engaged in full makeout mode. They had to be careful and quiet. Maybe they should just go into the laundry room. After all, the laundry room had pretty much become their makeout and snack Batcave when they needed a few minutes away from the kids. And it was closer. No, they definitely needed the bed, and he could do it. He was a stealthy hunter, after all.

The stealthy hunter knocked over the entry table, banged into the wall, and knocked over some of the moving boxes, all while Abby giggled and shushed against his mouth. Up the stairs, he practically tiptoed through the landing until they made it to the end of the hall. Still fully engaged with him, she fumbled for their bedroom door, and then Dean pushed her against it, and it slammed. Crap.

They stopped and listened—nothing.

She nodded with a smile, reaching behind to press the lock and moved against him. She arched back against the door, and he started to move backward. Dean spun and threw her down on the bed, instantly on her, pulling the zipper down, making himself reacquainted with the bare skin beneath. She shimmied her arms out of the catsuit.

She sat up and tugged his shirt over his head. He yanked her to her feet and pulled her close, so they were bare chest against bare chest. God. There was nothing better. Well, that wasn't exactly true, it was second, next to when he...

Knock. Knock.

Shit. They paused, frozen in position. And waited. Nothing. He silently set her on the edge of the bed and trailed his mouth down her neck, down her chest, then passed her navel. Abby sharply inhaled as Dean moved down her body until he settled by the curve of her thigh.

"Mom, can I have a glass of water?" It was April.

"Um...can….can...you be a big girl and...uh...get it yourself," Abby panted and leaned back as his hand skimmed below her navel and slid under the remaining material of her costume.

"But there's no nightlight and it's dark," April whined. You could hear the little foot stomp on the hardwood. "MOM?"

Abby swore and huffed in frustration. She sat up and looked down at Dean whose head rested innocently on her leg as his hand found its way as she moved against it. "One—minute," she gasped before she knocked Dean's hand away with a giggle.

She pulled her arms into the sleeves and zipped up the costume before heading into the hallway. Nice. Dean was going to get to take it off of her all over again. Dean could hear the light turn on and the sound of water. While she was gone, he passed the time by stripping down to his boxers. It seemed to take longer than it should, but what was new with the kids. There was always something. After a few minutes, his wife returned with an eye roll and shrug. She sealed and secured the door behind her.

As she made her way to the bed, he practically tackled her, her back against the wall creating a loud thud.

"Shhh," her body shook as she chuckled against his mouth. God, he loved her laugh; he could listen to it all day. It was right up there with Ramble On.

He bent down and lifted each leg to remove each of her, what he fondly referred to as her 'stripper boots.' That wasn't just a term of endearment; those were the same boots she wore the first time they met. When she had worked undercover—as a stripper—and he had gotten a free lap dance. Yeah, he was never going to let her live that one down. Once those were gone, he pulled down the zipper and got her out of the rest of her costume. She was out of it at record speed until she stood before him in all her glory. She was the perfect balance of curves and strength in all the right places. Just fucking perfect.

And she was adorably impatient. Her hands were at the band of Dean's boxers, and Abby was giving him a look with total bedroom eyes as she wasted no time moving lower.

Knock. Knock.

You have got to be freaking kidding me.

"Dad?"

Dean shut his eyes, trying not to focus on the voice at the door while his wife was touching him. It was becoming increasingly hard to center on anything other than Abby. She was just that freaking good.

"The fan is making a weird noise in my room." It was Dylan this time.

Abby dragged her hand out and kissed Dean playfully on the nose with a wink. Such a tease. Oh, she was going to get it when he got back.

"One second, Dyl," Dean answered. Abby moved into the bed under the covers as he pulled on a pair of pajama pants.

He unlocked and opened the door. Dylan stood there, his eyes wide.

"It sounds weird, Dad."

"Okay, let's check it out," Dean said, putting a protective hand on his son's shoulder. Man, the kids were acting squirrely tonight. Must have been all that candy.

But Dylan had been right; his fan was making a weird noise. Turns out it just needed a little dusting, and a screw tightened, and it was all fixed. And it turned out to be a useful teaching lesson for his son so he'd be able to take care of the problem next time.

"There you go, all fixed, man. Are we good?"

"Thanks, Dad. Nite," his son said as he headed back to his bed.

"G'nite," Dean said with a smile before closing his door. Then he practically sprinted to his bedroom, praying to any-and-all gods that Abby hadn't fallen asleep.

It worked because she was still wide awake. Praise be to them all. Not only that but from the amount of skin Dean could see, she was still completely naked. Hallelujah. He quickly closed the door behind and locked it again before he practically dove for the bed, stripping off his pants along the way. She was right. Fuck it. They did not have time to be cute or kinky stuff with handcuffs—it was time to get down and dirty.

She crawled on her knees to meet him in the middle of the bed, their hands and mouths instantly devouring one another. He would never get over the taste of her and never get sick of it. His hands dragged to her lower back, his lips expertly trailing down her neck as he lowered her back down onto the bed. Her hands reached out to touch him, and he groaned. From the feel of her and her sounds, she was ready. He was sure as hell ready. His hips met hers, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to draw him closer….

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Nope. Nope. No way. No freaking way. If it is one of the older kids, they can just deal. All he needed was a couple of minutes alone with his wife…

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Mommy? Daddy?" Jamie.

"Do you think he could wait a few minutes," Dean whispered against Abby's ear, taking time to nip on her lobe. She gasped, and her back arched, pressing her body to his. God, maybe that was a bad idea.

"He sounds pretty freaked out," she moaned, kissing him, taking his lower lip between her teeth. He groaned and kissed her deeply, his tongue tracing over hers. That kiss alone was almost enough to make him...

"DADDY?"

Shit. Yeah. Nope. This was not going to happen.

Abby looked up at him, still panting and now slightly flushed. She brought her hand up to his cheek and grinned.

"Go," she, pressing her lips to give him a chaste kiss. She was cooling it down.

"One minute, buddy," Dean sighed and yelled to the door, pulling on his trusty sweatpants once again and throwing a robe over. He waited for Abby to cover up and opened the bedroom door. Jamie ran and threw his arms around his legs, holding him in a death grip. "Hey, what's wrong?"

The four-year-old peered up at him, his green-hazel eyes wide and full of fear.

"There's someone in my room."

All the hair on Dean's neck stood straight up, his eyes slit, and we shifted immediately into hunter mode. He patted his son on the head and told him to go into their bedroom with Mom. He could hear Abs taking him into the room and securing the door. Dean went into the closet and grabbed his gun and an EMF detector. He was probably just overreacting but, with their lives, better safe than sorry. And his son has been talking about seeing people recently. He headed down the hall and scanned his son's room. Cracking open the other kids' doors, he only found them fast asleep. He did a quick sweep of the whole house—all clear.

Relieved, he made his way back to his bedroom, finding Abby alone and the lights and water on in their bathroom. He took that time to put his arsenal away before turning back to his wife. She was now dressed in a gray tank top that was about two sizes too big and sleep pants with bunny rabbits all over them. Even with the pink and purple bunny rabbits, she still looked hot as hell, and those pants hugged her in all the right places. Her the edges of her soft mouth tugged up into a disappointed smile when she saw him, and she got up to hug him, their eager lips meeting.

"Abs, where's J-man?"

"He's in the bathroom," Abby explained before letting out a sigh. That sigh meant one thing. "He's freaked out. He said that a lady with a hole in her chest was talking to him. I'm worried. I thought we swept the house before we moved in, and there was nothing weird. No EMF or sulfur, right? Why would he be seeing that without any of those signs?"

Dean wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. Yeah, he was worried too.

"Do you mind if he sleeps in our room tonight? I don't want to leave him alone," she murmured against his chest.

Did he mind? Yes and no. No, because that was his son, and he was just as uneasy as Abs. Yes, because, well, he was a selfish bastard, and he wanted Abby all to himself. But, he wasn't a dick….though he wanted to be one tonight. Gah. So, no, he didn't mind.

"It's fine. Probably best to keep an eye on him anyway if he's seeing...," Dean admitted as she ran her hands down the nape of his neck. But she would have to stop touching him like that if it was going to be possible. And he'd need a cold shower. "Do I get a raincheck for tonight at least?"

Abby tilted her head and smiled. "Of course, babe. And just so you know, you're a good dad, Dean. FYI, I told Jamie he can sleep in our bed with us tonight." Well if that wasn't the ultimate boner killer...

Jamie popped his little self out of the bathroom, and Abby turned her attention to him.

"You good, Jamie," Abby said, taking his small hand and helping him onto the bed.

"I'm good, Mommy," their young son smiled, bounced before nestling into the bed next to Abby. Dean took off his robe as Abby pulled up the comforter around her and Jamie. That kid was a stomach sleeper and could sleep wherever you flung him, kinda like how Dean could pass out anywhere. Abby curled on her side and put a hand on her son's back, rubbing soothing circles as Jamie fell asleep. Screw him being a good dad; Abs was the best mother he could have hoped for his kids. No lie. She was a mama bear and was willing to walk through fire for those kids. They both would.

Dean crawled into bed on the other side of Jamie and watched Abby as she fell asleep, her protective hand never leaving her sleeping boy. She'd look downright human when she slept if it wasn't that she was inhumanly beautiful. And she was all his. He smiled to himself and laid his hand over Abby's. Her lips tugged up while she slept, and they fell unconscious like that with their young son breathing softly between.

It wasn't the Halloween fling they had planned, but it was still as good as it could get. Hell, their lives were a mess, but it was theirs. It wasn't always clean or fun, but everyone was at home safe, so it was perfect. And he never realized how good they had it until she left.

That was the first pleasant dream and night of sleep he had in a long ass time. It gave him a full eight hours of rest and her.