Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. The original characters of Kayla Winchester and Mary Winchester (Sam and Jess's daughter Mary, not Sam's mom) belong to me.

A/N: Warning-I'm turning the angst level up to 1000 in this one. The story's rating will change to M later. I will give another warning the chapter before it changes.

Had it been two years earlier, thirteen-year-old Kayla Winchester would have reveled in what she was doing at the moment. It would have been an adventure, something fun to prove that she was all grown up now. She would have looked forward to the trip for weeks, planning it to the last detail. Unfortunately, as the plane lifted off the ground, she hadn't been given the opportunity. She hadn't even known she was leaving until twelve hours earlier, after her parents had taken her to dinner and dropped the bomb on her. She was going to South Dakota to live with her grandfather. Whether she wanted to or not.

Kayla felt like an idiot. She should have known that her parents taking her out for dinner after the hell she'd put them through the last few months was too good to be true. She felt like an even bigger idiot for actually feeling guilty in the backseat of the car on the way to the restaurant. She'd made a pact with herself to get along better with them, to become the daughter they deserved. Despite what her father might think, she knew she was screwing up her life. She knew she was headed down a road that would likely end up with her dead. She also knew that she didn't care about that.

What her parents didn't know, Kayla had decided months earlier, couldn't hurt them. If they did know, it would kill them. But protecting them had come at a cost. She couldn't sleep, and when she did sleep, she had nightmares. She couldn't tell her parents about the nightmares, so she spent most nights sitting up in bed crying until just before dawn. The lack of sleep led to her snapping at her parents, her little sister, her teachers, and anyone else who happened to be in her general vicinity. Her mother had tried to be patient, but Kayla could tell she was hurt. The two of them, according to her father, had been 'thick as thieves' from the moment Kayla had come out of the womb. Kayla recalled a home video she'd seen many times. She was an infant, just a few months old, not even able to talk yet. Her mother held a baby Kayla in her lap, holding her hands and talking to her about her day. Kayla was responding to everything her mother said, with coos and smiles and giggles, as her father spoke from behind the camera.

"You're gonna be a little heartbreaker one day."

As the plane began to level out and make its journey towards South Dakota, Kayla's anger reignited at the thought of her father. She knew this was his idea. Her mother was afraid to let Kayla out of her sight. Always had been. So the idea of moving her across the country would never have come from her mom. Another thought came to Kayla. The weekend before, she'd snuck out of the house to go to a party. She had, of course, been caught and dragged home by her father. It was far from her first time drinking, despite lying and telling both her parents that she'd never done it before. The night went exactly as she'd expected. After throwing up and getting the 'how could you be so stupid as to drink?' lecture from her father, Kayla prepared herself for the choice. She'd thought about it all the way home. Her mother didn't believe in spanking and her father did. They had fought about it for a few years when Kayla had been really little, until finally they'd come to a compromise. Whenever Kayla, and eventually her little sister Mary, had gotten into trouble, they were given a choice. Get a spanking from Daddy, or take a punishment from mommy, usually of the extra chores or grounded for a couple of days variety. Kayla typically picked the spanking-it hurt, but was over relatively quickly. Given how angry her father was this time, she'd been leaning towards taking whatever her mother dished out.

Her parents had then laid out the first surprise of the week. No more choice. She was getting a spanking and was grounded for an indefinite amount of time. The spanking had been intense. Her father had kept his promise to take his belt to her for the first time if she drank before the age of twenty-one. Sobbing hard at the end of it, her dad had tried to pull her in for a hug, but she'd just pushed him away. Sam had told her he loved her and sent her to bed, reminding her that she was to come straight home from school every day or risk going through the whole ordeal again. Kayla went to bed that night with her head, throat, butt, and heart all aching at the same time-feeling a familiar sense of drowning with no one to pull her out.

That's the night it started, Kayla thought. Her parents had both become distant after that night. Her mom would greet her and offer her hugs, but wouldn't try to get her to talk about her day anymore. Her father would see her out of her room and tell her to go back, even if she was just trying to use the bathroom. The first and only time she'd snapped at him that she was just trying to use the bathroom had earned her five hard swats on the seat of her pants. Her father hadn't even tried to comfort her that time, just gripped her arm tight and spoke low and soft into her ear.

"I've had it. I'm done with this. Get to your room and stay there now. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir." Kayla had said through her gritted teeth.

Sam had released her, and Kayla had seen a spark of regret in his eye. She waited a moment before turning and leaving, hoping for something that she couldn't quite identify. An 'I love you'? An 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to grab you like that'? A confirmation that he hated her and didn't want her anymore? None of that came.

"Go on." he'd said sadly.

That had been the night she'd had the dream. She was five or six, walking down the sidewalk with her parents. She held her father's hand in one of hers, and her mother's in the other. They were swinging her back and forth, making her giggle so much her tummy hurt. Suddenly, a black cloud appeared in front of them. Mommy and Daddy stopped swinging her, and both knelt down in front of her. They looked sad, and both explained that they couldn't keep her anymore. That they loved her, but she didn't deserve them, so they were sending her away. Despite her crying and begging them to come back, despite her apologies and promises to be a good girl, they'd simply kissed her cheek and started to walk away. The cloud came forward, picked her up, and led her away.

Kayla had been shaken out of that dream by a pair of hands shaking her. When she'd opened her eyes and calmed down, it wasn't her mom or dad. It was five-year-old Mary, looking scared and afraid at whatever monster was making her big sister cry. Mary had insisted on getting in bed with Kayla, and had poked and prodded until Kayla finally told Mary what she'd been dreaming of. Mary had looked at Kayla as if she was speaking Martian and proclaimed,

"That's stupid. Mommy and Daddy wouldn't send you away. Mommies and Daddies don't do that. They're supposed to love you no matter what."

Kayla had laughed, tousled Mary's hair again, and fallen asleep with Mary in her bed. She'd found genuine comfort in what Mary had said, but the stalemate stayed in place. Then, two days later, on Friday night, Sam and Jess had told her they were going to dinner 'to talk'. They'd taken her to her favorite place, Mama Rita's, and dropped the news. Twelve hours of furious silence on Kayla's part, tears and begging for understanding on her mother's part, and a different, more infuriating silence on her father's part later, Kayla was sitting in her plane seat on the way to South Dakota.

She hadn't even been allowed to say goodbye to her baby sister. That, to Kayla, was the worst part. Mary seemed to be the only person who actually wanted her around. But her father had refused, saying that they would tell Mary after she was gone and she'd be 'allowed' to talk to Mary over the phone after that. She thought back for a moment to the way she'd left things at security. Jess had given her a hug, and Sam had knelt down in front of her and begged her to listen. When Kayla wouldn't even look at him, he'd grabbed her hand and frowned when she flinched. She'd seen him, out of the corner of her eye, swallow hard and, for the first time in a week, actually talk to her.

"I know you lied about that party being the first time you ever drank. I know you've probably done things your mom and I don't know about. I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but I love you. I love you so much. But I can't watch you kill yourself anymore. Neither of us can. And with the road you're on, that's where you're headed. I don't have it in me to bury you." Kayla's stony silence had continued, so Sam pushed on. "This doesn't have to be forever. When you're ready to talk, really talk, about coming home, I promise I'll listen. But we all need some space from each other. I need you to think about why you're doing what you're doing. Really think about it. Okay?"

I know why I do it, Kayla had thought to herself. Trust me, you don't want this.

"You should get going. Let us know when you get there, okay?" Sam had said. "Can I have a hug bye?"

Kayla had finally looked him in the eye and said the first thing she'd said all day. "When you tell Mary what you did tonight, ask her what she said the night she slept in my room earlier this week."

She'd seen the confused look on Sam's face when she said that, but she'd grabbed her bag and started going through security. What Kayla hadn't seen, as she turned the corner to head to her gate with the flight attendant assigned to help her through the flight, was her father's eyes fill with tears that started spilling faster than he could control them. She hadn't seen him hit his knees weeping, leaning into Jess who tried to convince him, despite her earlier doubts, that they were doing the right thing. She hadn't seen them go to the car, Sam still crying and praying that she didn't hate him. Just like Sam and Jess hadn't seen how broken Kayla was inside. How she loved them and wanted them to know she loved them, but didn't know how to tell them anymore.

How she hoped they didn't hate her either.