A/N: Here's the first bit of the sequel to Crash Course. This is the prologue and although it may not seem like it this will be important later on. So pay attention! Anyway, enjoy and I'll upload the first chapter after I get a couple of reviews! Nudge nudge.

Disclaimer: Don't sue cause I don't own nothing!

Postmortem

By: Babyhilts

Prologue

Leah Carlson handled the check with a delicate, ladylike grip although ladylike was the last thing she was. Month old scarring lay hidden beneath her curled bangs and she sported lovely fist sized bruises on her ribcage that had just recently begun to fade. Pale jeans clung to her wide hips as the ratty sweater hung sloppily off her shoulders. Her hair was a mess of static blonde and deep lines had been etched into her face from lack of sleep and added stress. In all, Leah Carlson did not look like a lady; she didn't look like much of anything for that matter.

A tightly forced smile curled her lips. The waitress who'd served her was currently twirling a manicured finger around her luscious red locks. Black, patent leather heels that only a loon with a slim figure and no brains adorned her feet. Leah knew from past experience that serving the general public and standing up all day while doing it was killer on the feet but alas, there she was. The carrot toped freak, in all her glory was probably fighting off a foot cramp.

Girlish giggles sauntered through the thick, deep fried air. Leah forgot her ladylike grip and began to clench a pale fist around the bill. She glared daggers at the waitress who instead of doing her job and taking her money was too busy pushing her breasts into full view of her boys. A bored sigh fell from her lips. The Winchester brothers weren't exactly her boys but they'd been the only thing she'd had since the accident over a month earlier. Ever since she'd crashed her Jetta off a Vancouver back road and wound up somewhere in Texas she'd been by their side. Dean leaned over the ceramic table and gave the redhead another flirtatious grin. Leah caught the gesture and as a result began to loose her patience. The beaten old tennis, tap, tap, tapped against the hard linoleum echoing her displeasure. She looked the two young men up and down and cursed their existence.

Earlier that afternoon it had taken nearly everything they had to drag her from the small, residential house in Lawrence Kansas. The two of them had gone off to God knows where for a month and then just as suddenly as they'd disappeared had shown up on Missouri's doorstep. Duffel bags barely out of their trunk, they'd begged for her to jump into the '67 Chevy and go out with them. In all truth it had been Sam Winchester who'd done most of the begging, the reason being Leah hadn't been on speaking terms with Dean.

The blonde woman looked to the booth where her companions still sat. She'd missed them, that fact was certain. How could she not miss them? They were her only friends in this strange new place. Missouri Mosley was the only other person she knew and she was more of a mother figure if anything else. Leah felt her blood boil. Dean touched Little Miss Red's arm and ran his fingers up and down, along her porcelain skin. With that one gesture the feelings the blonde had been harboring during their absence returned. They hadn't ever truly disappeared. She cared for the men but so desperately hated them as well. Had it not been for their bullheadedness she'd still be alive. She'd be able to be back in Canada with Caitlin and everything she'd held dear to her. Were it not for the Winchesters and their need to fight all that is evil then she would still have her old life back. The life she wanted. Not this new one where all she did was stay cooped up in Lawrence with an old psychic.

"Sorry, about that. Cash or credit?"

Leah snapped to attention. Whirling around on her heels, she faced the counter and the bimbo in heels. Her glossy lips smirked knowingly at Leah and it took all she had not to jump over the counter and knock her on her ass. Instead the fight inside her died quickly and she threw the crumpled check onto the counter along with a few bills.

The waitress quickly went about wiping the money off the counter and into her cash register. Leah glanced away for a moment, watching while Sam finished off the rest of his coffee and Dean shrugged his leather jacket back into place. At the far back of the restaurant a man caught her attention. This wasn't unusual for Leah, but something about this one man put her on guard. He wore a navy blue baseball cap and a dark jean jacket. The collar was turned upward, shadowing part of his face, while the hat did the rest. Overall he generated a feeling of uncertainty and unease. Some would think a man hiding behind a baseball cap, in the back of a restaurant was mysterious and sexy; a complete turn on. For Leah it just reminded her of some sleazy peeping Tom.

"Here's your change. Miss?"

Leah focused on the waitress and snatched the remaining money from her open palm, dropping it carelessly into her jeans pocket. The usual bowl of mints and toothpicks that sat beside the register was just too tempting. Taking a couple from both bowls, Leah dropped the extra few into her other pocket before popping a round, spearmint flavored candy into her mouth. She tongued the circular object and sucked happily on the dripping taste of mint. Her attention once again fell on the man in the corner. It was just as her eyes landed on him that he raised his head. A set of piercing, brown orbs landed on her. It was hard to make out any distinguishing features from her position but she knew he was young. He was scared too. It was evident in the way he looked at her and then just as quickly turned away, back to the newspaper on his table. All he had next to him was a glass of sodapop.

Leah stepped away from the counter, towards the booth the Winchesters still occupied. A scuffle could be heard from off to her right. She ignored the sound at first but as the sound of shattering glass echoed through the bustling diner, Leah's curiosity got the better of her.

"I'm not waiting another day. I want my money and if you ain't gonna pay up, I have ways of evening out the score."

Two men in their mid thirty seemed to be in some sort of fight. The shorter of the two had knocked his chair over and his face had taken on a panicked expression. The one who happened to be doing most of the yelling kicked his own chair back. It rattled off the floor bringing only more attention to the two of them. Leah bit her lip; stepping away from the scene and glancing uncertainly back to her table. Dean looked deep in thought but Sam seemed to understand and slipped out of the booth. In the same moment that the lanky man began to stand, Dean shouted a warning and hit the ground, pulling his younger brother down by the legs. Leah turned to the men and saw a flash of metal before the familiar sound of a gun going off broke through the building.

Her world flipped upside down as her legs folded in and sent her tumbling to the floor. The waitress from before screamed and more shuffling sounded. Something was biting into Leah's stomach and it was then she noticed the red stain on her shirt and how lightheaded she was suddenly feeling.
Rushed footsteps made their way towards her. The man in the cap, shadowed in all that mystery kneeled next to her. With a nervous glance over his shoulder he lifted the bottom of her top to reveal the small bullet wound. Blood was everywhere, pooling about them onto the cold linoleum. Leah held back the tears and thought bitterly of dying with this complete stranger with the smell of French fries and greasy burgers all around her.

"Just relax okay?"

Leah looked upwards, eyes caught once again with the strangers. He smiled reassuringly and laid a warm hand over the bullet hole. The pressure was placed and she cried out in spite of it. He shushed her and more blood escaped onto the floor. Her cries turned to whimpers and her vision swam. A voice was calling her back, away from the impending black and she felt a cold rush flowing through her veins. The t-shirt she wore was tugged back in place and the stranger was moving too fast for her to process.

"You tripped" he whispered and reached for something off a nearby table. "You were startled by the shot and tripped. Knocked over a bottle of ketchup and spilt it on yourself."

The red condiment bottle lay next to her hip and she suddenly realized that a handful of it had been dumped onto her lap. She looked up to the man with the hat, confusion written in her eyes but he said nothing. People were beginning to stir from their seats to inspect the damage. Sam and Dean were moving towards her and the stranger, the man who for some reason had laid his hands upon her wound, was now getting to his feet. By the time Dean had reached her side the young stranger had disappeared out the front door.

"Leah, you okay?"

The woman nodded and brushed off the helping set of hands.

"Tripped" she said in a daze. "Spilt the ketchup on me."

Cautiously she rose to her feet, taking notice of the now missing gunmen. Dean looked her over once more and seemed to approve of her condition before motioning for her and Sam to follow him outside. The best place for the three of them was not in a diner about to be overrun with cops.
Leah fell back a few paces behind the Winchesters. A shaky hand fell across her t-shirt, lifting the material off her stomach until her index finger located the small hole. She moved it through the tear a few times for good measure. After a bit more hesitation, she raised the shirt a few inches from her waist and lowered her head, expecting to find the bullet hole and yet, there was nothing. Nothing save for the eerie white hand print now tattooed across her stomach. She'd just been shot and somehow that man had just saved her life.