Authors Note: I put a disclaimer on this story. Ya'll know what this means.
Reviews: Jenkless- Yeah, Thanks for your review. I created Leah to be more up to Dean's speed.
Lonnie- I don't have spell check, and I am pretty much failing grammar, so what you see is what you get.
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Aswell- This chapter is really where the story starts to pick up, and it only goes uphill from here, so please, read and review. I love getting them, and questions are always appreciated.
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Dean dropped her off at the plantation, 20 miles out of town. It was amazing how the scenery had changed from busy modern world, to complete desolation.
As she got out of her car, she muttered a quick thanks and she ran into her house.
Her heart dropped to her feet when she saw her father in the kitchen staring at her when she walked in through the door. "Where were you?" he spoke.
"I was just out- I went to the park-"
"Liar-" Her father yelled, slapping her across the face. She could feel the blood running down her chin. "You were with a boy, weren't you-"
"No. I swear I wasn't" Leah spoke, although she knew that the argument was hopeless.
"So now you swear in my household. If your mother could only see you now-!"
All she saw was the darkness of the closet, now where it seemed she spent hours of her life. She had gotten used to the beatings, but that one had been brutal, seeming to go on for hours.
She just hurt everywhere, the smell of blood and gore just filling her lungs. It was all too familiar. And spite it all, her own tears stung her wounds, and for the first time, she had felt as if she had done nothing wrong. But she had to see that Winchester boy again.
"Where have you been?" Sam Winchester asked as his brother Dean walked in to their dumpy hotel room, it smelling of rust and mildew.
"Just with a girl-" Sam saw a flicker in his eye.
"Oh. Did you-"
"If that was what we did-" Dean said, shaking out his pillowcase. "So you think that I would be here talking to you-"
"Nevermind." Sam muttered, seeing Dean now smell the blankets.
"Your not going to be able to find it-" Sam said,regarding the smell of the room. "Believe me, I've been looking for it for five hours. I think that it is actually in the walls."
"Well, that's a bitch" Dean muttered as he crawled into bed, Sam turning off the lights. He was so lightheaded, almost like he was high off of Leah Cunningham. He had to see her. Tomorrow.
Over the years, makeup had become her best friend, this morning applying so much she feared that if someone touched her face, the caked on goo would wash off on their fingers. She could only do so much to hide, though. The small cut on her lips was there, as was the many gashes on her legs and back.
She fought through the pain, though.
She always did.
Dean woke up the next morning to Sam banging on the walls of their hotel room, the air smelling heavy of drywall and other garbage.
"Sam, what the hell are you doing?" Dean said, rolling over and checking the small alarm clock on the side of the bed. "It's only seven in the morning for Christ's sakes-"
"All last night-" Sam spoke, picking up a hammer, still chipping away at little holes in the drywall. "That smell was budding me. It was so familiar. I knew what it was, but I just couldn't think of it. Then, as soon as I woke up- It hit me."
Dean looked at Sam who provided no further explanation as he swung the hammer back, and with one great swat, three feet of drywall came crumbling down of Dean's bed, along with two corpses.
"Rotting Flesh-"
