Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the original characters as such. All due credit to the original producers and script writers for their wonderful creation.
Let me tell you a story. The story of the life of a little girl I once knew…
When Leah was born, she developed sepsis and was hospitalised. Luckily, she got off clean with, well, nothing more serious than a light case of asthma. When, on her 6 month birthday, she was finally ready to go home, "home" burnt down with her mother still inside it. Goodbye home, and goodbye to a mother she never had the chance to know; a mother who became a distant voice in her earliest memories, from when she first entered the world. They said it was electrical shortage. She now knows better. Much better.
Her father, for some weird-ass, protective-parenting thing of his own, decided it'd be safer to send her away, rather than keep his baby daughter with him and raise him like a father should. Although, admittedly, not without reason.
Oh…alright then, he had reasons…I can't believe I'm saying this but they were even good reasons.
He left her with a couple – Jacob and Melanie Sellars – a couple whose lives he'd saved a while back. They had no kids of their own (and not for lack of trying, bless them), and promised to raise Leah as a healthy, happy, normal girl. But not for one moment did they pretend to be her real parents; growing up, it was always Uncle Jacob and Aunt Mel to her.
Every year on her birthday, she would remember a dark-haired man with a scraggly beard coming to visit her, always with an unusual birthday present – a necklace with a star-shaped symbol on it, or a little pouch filled with odd-smelling herbs and dried flowers. She would run up to him and he would scoop her up in his arms and she would bury her face in his leather jacket – this was "daddy". But next morning, he was gone again.
Then, on her 8th birthday, he came and didn't leave. That night, he sat her down at the dinner table and they talked…and with every word he spoke, Leah aged. By the end of that conversation, Leah was no longer the ordinary 8 year old girl who had skipped into the dining room with the prospect of presents and cake– she had been abruptly and brutally catapulted out of childhood and into a world where monsters were real and pigs might fly. But then…the children of Hunters were never born to be children themselves.
"Leah, you know that I'm your dad, right? That Uncle Jake and Aunt Mel aren't your parents – I am."
"Yes daddy…but where's mum?"
There was a long pause…"sorry sweetie, you're never going to know your mother. She…left us…when you were still just a baby. And she's not coming back."
"You mean…mummy's dead?"
"Yes she is. But don't worry Leah, you still have me. Dad will always be here for you. And your two brothers..."
"I have brothers!?" Her eyes opened wider, hopeful.
"Yes baby, you do. There's Dean, your older brother, and Sam, who's your twin. You were born on the same day, but Sam's a few minutes older. By just two minutes, if I remember right."
"Will I get to see them? Sometime soon? Please, daddy?"
"We'll see, Leah, we'll see. But for now, I have something much more important to tell you and there's no nice way to do it. Tell me, Leah, do you believe in monsters?"
"You mean…like the monster in my closet!?" Her eyes opened wide again…green eyes, so much like her mother's -
"No, not that one." Her dad smiled softly, almost sadly. "But see, Leah, that's my job. Daddy hunts monsters, bad monsters. Monsters that can hurt people, and I hunt them and kill them so they can't hurt anyone anymore. I am a Hunter. Do you understand?"
"I-I- I think so…" She looked at him with wonder in her eyes – "So you're like superman!"
Dad chuckled – "Well, if you want to think of it that way, I can't stop you!"
Then he became serious again. "No, it's not quite like that. You see, these monsters that I hunt are evil; some are demons, literally, others creatures of darkness that appear in most places as folklore and the stuff of nightmares to scare young children. But they're real, Leah, as real as you or me. And sometimes, I just can't save them all. Like your mother…"
"Mum was killed by a monster?"
She was no longer smiling now…All her childhood nightmares came crashing down on her again – dark smoke and a horrible old hag with a gaping, glowing hole for a mouth, a man with yellow eyes and the intense heat of a fire, alive, burning, a woman on the ceiling screaming silently…and they were real. They were all real…
She pushed out her chair and ran across to her father, who pulled her into his lap and rocked her gently, pressing his cheek into her hair. And the smell of that old leather jacket, with a hint of whisky and cigarette smoke – a smell she still remembers so clearly.
"Yes, she was, by a demon. The demon that killed her is very ancient and very powerful. And I am going to hunt him down and kill that evil son of a bitch if it's the last thing I do. And it most likely will be. I don't expect to walk out of it alive. But I can't just leave my children behind, defenceless and vulnerable to other demon attacks."
He put her down and stooped to see eye to eye with her.
"Leah, I am going to teach you to Hunt."
The very next day, Leah's father took her on her very first target practise, using empty bottles and a double-barrel rifle.
"I took Dean shooting for the first time when he was 6 or 7, and he bulls-eyed every single one. By now he's about as good with a gun as any adult marksman." He smiled down at her. "Let's see how you go."
He stayed with her for days, so many that she lost count; so many that it might've been months, even. Every day, new skills were drilled into her; skills most adults wouldn't dream of knowing, let alone 8 year old girls. Everyday took her one step further from the safety and security of her childhood, further into the perilous life of a fully fledged Hunter. By the end of his stay, Leah could assemble, load and fire just about any weapon in her dad's private arsenal (she quickly realised her father's four wheel drive was not to be messed with), hit a moving target from a hundred meters away, identify herbs and plants used in hoodoo and summoning and cleansing rituals and recite Latin incantations back to front. I suppose he decided his work was done and she'd learnt enough – one morning she woke up, and he was gone.
8 years later, Leah's house burned down while she was out training at her dojo. Once again, it was goodbye home and goodbye to the couple who'd been her parents in everything but name. No one could determine the actual cause of the fire, so it was put down to "electrical shortage". Funny that…you'd think 16 years would be long enough to think up a new excuse to "mysterious fire with casualties", wouldn't it?
Her father showed up that afternoon on her charred doorstep and took her away. First time she'd seen the man in 8 years. Boy, was that an intense car trip…if silence could kill…But you've got to admire the old man. He survived through it, somehow, and last I checked he's still breathing.
"Some father you are. Is that why you send me away all those years ago? Just so I could grow up to watch my parents die again? I've just set the world record for bad luck, and the price was three parents too many."
"I gave you to the Sellars to keep you safe, Leah. After the demon got your mother, I couldn't risk him finding you as well. I wanted to take you with me…believe me, I did. But your mother would skin me alive if I raised her baby girl like a fugitive. The Sellars knew the risks, and they took you in anyways. They were good people and I'm sorry for their deaths. But you have to put all that behind you now. From now on, you're one of us. You're a Hunter, as is your birthright."
And so she ended up with Bobby Singer, an old hunter, an expert in supernatural and folk lore who lived by himself in a car repair yard. For two years, she heard nothing from her dad, and focussed instead on learning everything Bobby had to offer – from devil's traps to fixing cars. Especially about cars.
On her 18th birthday, she received a picture of her brothers along with a set of coordinates from her dad – coordinates to a case. Happy Birthday Leah…what did you expect, a barbie doll? Now go hunt some evil sons of bitches out there. Thanks dad. Apparently, he had decided it was time for her to start hunting. On the plus side, she finally had faces to put to the names – her brothers weren't half bad, either.
Yea, you've guessed it. That little girl was – or is – me. No prize for working that one out, Einstein. Yesterday, Daddy dearest decided to remind me of his continued existence with a simple text message. I suppose the word "hello" didn't occur to him after 5 years of nothingness. Just another set of coordinates and 3 short words – "Find your brothers". It's about time, too. I mean, when was the last time I saw them? Like…never? And classic dad – he just forgot to tell them about me. My brothers don't even know I exist. So now I'll just walk up to them and say "hi, I'm your long lost sister." Just peachy. But that's enough complaining from me. This is it, the moment of truth…time to go find my family…
Leah
P.S. Don't forget to tell Bobby you took the Chrysler. And tell him to quit yelling and keep the blood pressure down.
She put down her pen, closed the cover of her leather-bound journal and rubbed her eyes tiredly. She was impressed with herself. She'd just relived the entire 23 years of her life in a few short hours and now it was all down and documented.
Damn, it was already 9am. If she was to get to Jericho by noon, she'd have to hit the gas.
She threw the pen and journal down onto the seat beside her and glanced at her phone again – sooner or later, Bobby would notice the Chrysler 300 was missing…but she was ready for it, and by then she would safely be states away. Sorry Bobby. If only you hadn't told me about this baby sittin' in the garage. Shouldn't have brought me up to appreciate fine cars so much, eh? Mentally, she shrugged to herself. She wasn't sorry, not really – Bobby never used it anyways, and she knew it was going to be her birthday present sooner or later. She turned the key and grinned as the engine purred to life. Cranking the music up, she set off down the road again.
