ೃ⁀➷ ❛ 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄 ❜
╰┈─➤ ❪ SAM WINCHESTER ❫
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
﹌﹌﹌ 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 a camping trip gone wrong
leads to abigail richardson hunting
the supernatural with the winchester
...
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08 |faith ¹
Abigail had called Sam thenight before in a panic, telling him of a premonition. She knew it was, though Sam told her it was a bad dream and hung up.
Abigail had separated from them not long after Dean became a wanted man. She had decided to return to the roadhouse, where she worked behind the bar and told the Harvelles (plus Ash) of her time with the Winchesters. Apparently Ellen knew their father.
Abigail, however, without needing Sam to call, had left the Harvelle's roadhouse and appeared in the hospital the next morning. She ran down the corridor looking for the room, where she saw Sam stood outside the door. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I fucking told you," Abigail scolded.
"I know," Sam replied, tears in his eyes.
"Don't mess with a banshee, Sam," Abigail told him. She watched a tear roll down his cheek. "Oh, yeah, I'm a banshee, by the way. Not a psychic or something." Abigail stood beside Sam, glancing into the room. "Sorry, Sam. I'm bad with emotions and hospitals set off everything. I mean, it reeks of death in here." Abigail cleared her throat. "What I am trying to say is I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault," Sam told her, quickly wiping away her tears. He turned and entered the room, Abigail staying under the doorframe and leaning against it with one shoulder.
"Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible," Dean spoke. His voice was weak, something that hadn't happened before.
Sam shook his head and sighed. "I talked to your doctor," he announced.
"That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down," Dean spoke, avoiding the inevitable topic.
Abigail's head pounded as she rest it against the doorframe. She felt as if there was something inside her skull clawing at it to escape from its prison. "Dean," she spoke up, trying to ignore her pain.
Dean looked over to her. He sighed, turning off the TV. "Yeah. All right, well, looks like you're both gonna leave town without me," Dean stated, looking between the pair.
"What are you talking about? I'm not gonna leave you here," Sam retorted.
"Hey, you better take care of that car. Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass," Dean told him sternly.
