Prologue
-Six years prior-
"Lane! Get your ass back in the car! Now!" my dad yelled, getting out of the driver's seat to follow me down the road. I had my backpack and duffle hanging from my shoulders as I walked away from the car.
"C'mon, Lane, just get in the car and we can go," Dean pleaded and I scoffed.
"Like hell I will," I muttered, hoisting my bag farther up on my shoulder.
"Elane Madden Winchester, get your ass back here, now!" my dad yelled and I heard footsteps from behind me.
"No!" I cried, spinning around and dropping my duffle on the ground.
"Excuse me?" my dad asked, stopping short. Dean was standing a few feet behind him with a scowl on his face and Sammy was in the backseat of the car with a sad but acceptant look on his face.
"I said no, dad! It may be something that is hard to digest for you as it's always 'yes sir' but it means the opposite!" I retorted.
"You are not leaving this family," my dad replied.
"I'm not leaving the family! I'm going to college!" I told him. "You should be proud that I have a full scholarship to my dream school!"
"You're leaving, that's all that matters. You are leaving us when we need you."
"You don't fucking need me, dad!" I yelled. "You don't even let me go on hunts! So fuck off!" Fury clouded my dad's eyes as he walked closer to me, but I refused to show any weakness, even though I was terrified inside.
"What did you just say?" he asked in a low, dangerous tone.
"Are you deaf? I. Said. Fuck. Off. Kapeesh?" I confirmed. Before I could react, my head was whipped to the side by a slap to the face. It had been a while since that had happened. My cheek was stinging, badly, and I could taste blood in my cheek.
My dad was shaking slightly as he glared down at me, fists clenched next to him. I had never disrespected him before. Sure, occasionally I had gotten drunk while Dean and him went out while I watched Sammy and ended up getting the belt. A couple of times I had mouthed off about constantly moving schools and gotten my mouth washed out. A few times I had been slapped for cussing.
"Goodbye, father," I spat, spitting blood on his shirt. I knew he wouldn't let me go, so most of my attitude was to get him mad at me so that he would just say "fuck it" and let me go. "Hopefully I'll see you at graduation. Until then, adios."
I turned and stalked down the sidewalk, away from the motel, to where I knew a bus station was. A hand encircled my wrist, one that was smaller and gentler than my father's. Dean.
"Please, don't leave," he pleaded. I yanked my arm from my twin's grasp.
"I'm already gone."
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