Dean

 

In the morning, Dean let Emma get into the shower and turn on the water before he followed her into the room. There was another quickie while she was pressed up against the shower wall, him kneading her breasts and her fingering her clit until she clenched around him, making him blow ferociously inside of her. They cleaned up, giggling at each other like everything was just fine.

 

He loved it, and he hated it, all at once. He couldn’t shake that moment when he’d left her at her apartment, and it had seemed like he would never see her again. How he’d felt that, sitting with that, aching for her, wanting her so very much.

 

He traded a few messages with Connell, who said that there wasn’t anything yet, but he was still running down leads. They set up a time to meet at the clubhouse that afternoon.

 

“I need to go check on Abbey,” he said after some time had passed.

 

They took his bike, and she slid behind him like an old pro. They hadn’t talked about it at all in their cheerful banter that morning. What she expected from him. What she wanted, besides his physical presence. What was going to happen next.

 

He tried to push those worrying thoughts out of his mind. She felt sweet and right behind him, her thighs tight around his, her arms wrapped around his middle. That was all that mattered right now.

 

Sue was gone when they got to Abbey’s. His sister-in-law was curled up on the couch, looking small and fragile, tucked up in blankets. Yesterday, she had the fury of someone who needed to stay alive. Today, he could see the wounds the entire situation had inflicted on her. The dark circles under her eyes and the puffiness of her eyelids told him plenty about how she was doing. She had been crying. She hadn’t slept well. But she was here. She was alive. That was a start.

 

“Hey,” he said after she let them in, then retreated back to her small nest. “How’re you holding up?”

 

“Sue went out for coffee and bagels,” Abbey replied. “She said she was going to get a bunch of things. I’m sure there will be plenty for you two as well.” There was a quick, momentary pause, and then she asked the question that Dean had known she was going to ask, and that still tore him up inside. “Dean, where’s my baby girl? How did you fuck this up so badly?”

 

Even though he was prepared for it, he flinched back. “Abbey, I—”

 

“No,” she said. There wasn’t any anger in her tone, which seemed strange. God knew he was furious with himself. Why shouldn’t she hate him too? “Just tell me what’s happening. What are you doing to find her?”

 

He sagged into one of the chairs opposite her perch on the couch. After a moment, Emma sat down in the matching chair, but she stayed perched, instead of relaxing into the chair’s embrace.

 

“We’re running down every lead we possibly can. Connell is on it. He thinks he might have something for me this afternoon. But he wants to know everything that you can remember about what happened.”

 

Abbey was quiet for a long moment, and then she shook her head gently. “I don’t know, Dean. They hit my car, took me while I was on the phone with you. They drugged me, kept me drugged. I didn’t have my meds, and my brain was zapping out every other second. I don’t remember much of it.”

 

“But it was a they? More than one person?”

 

She was quiet for a minute, then nodded. “Yes. Two. Both big, strong. One of them picked me up and tossed me in a car, the other got into my car. What happened to my car?”

 

“They found it on the side of the road, concealed in some underbrush. Keys still in it. Connell has it at the garage—I’ll bring it around for you later.”

 

They all sat in silence, and Emma was finally settling back in the chair when Abbey spoke again. “You just have to get her back, Dean. I know she’s yours, really, but I need her back.”

 

The smile felt like it would crack his mouth, but he knew she needed to see it. “Abbey. She’s yours. She’s always been yours, just like she was Sam’s, and just like she’s mine. You’ve been with her more than I have. Don’t knock that. We’ll get her back.”

 

“You better,” she replied, and yes. There was the anger. He needed it, needed it to fuel him and push him forward. He would have thanked her if he thought she would be all right with that.