Chapter Nine

Leah was still a little tense and unsure when Dean returned from the lobby with only one room key, but she relaxed when she saw that the room housed two separate beds, one for him and one for her. Dean automatically threw his jacket down on the bed nearest to the door, since this was the bed he always occupied when he was on the road with Sam, before turning back to retrieve his duffel bag and the first-aid kit from the Impala. Leah sat on the empty bed, watching him as he went to the bathroom to wash his hands and fill a plastic cup with water.

He dug around in his duffel and produced a small bottle of Tylenol, then handed her the cup and shook a couple of the small white pills into his hand and held them out to her. "Here, take these. It's not much, but it'll help." She accepted the medication, swallowed it down with a generous gulp of water, then set the cup on the nightstand between the beds and flipped on the lamp.

Dean unzipped the first-aid kit and pulled out fresh gauze, medical tape, and some antiseptic ointment. Leah blew out a slow, tight-lipped breath and closed her eyes, willing her nerves to settle. "Hanging in there, Leah?" Dean asked, stealing a brief glance at her face before he shifted her collar aside to observe her wound again. She winced and nodded as he gently pulled the bandage completely off and nudged the area around her stitches a bit.

"Yeah," she breathed out, keeping her eyes closed, "it's just been a really, really weird day."

"You wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head. "It'll sound crazy."

He huffed out a quiet laugh. "Try me."

Before she knew it, Leah found herself telling the kind officer everything; how she had no idea how she ended up in Kansas, that she was attacked by a man in a business suit and was told to find "someone named Winchester," who had taken her in and fixed her up, but turned out to be "a complete nut job," so she ran and, well, he knew the rest.

"Wow," Dean said with a teasing smile as he dabbed some of the antiseptic gel over her stitches, "that does sound crazy. But you know something? I've heard weirder." She gave him a disbelieving look as he lightly pressed a clean bandage on her shoulder. He grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, gathered up some ice from the mini-fridge into it and held the bundle to the swollen area. "Keep that on there for a while," he instructed, and she reached up to obey.

He took some clothes out of his duffel, emptied his pockets onto the nightstand, and turned back to her. "You gonna be okay for a few minutes if I take a shower?" he asked, hoping the hot water would help ease his caring, but irritated demeanor enough that he could get a few hours' sleep.

She nodded. "Yeah, um, thanks."

Once she heard the water running, Leah took a moment to observe the cozy motel room. It looked like it hadn't been redecorated since the seventies, but still felt so welcoming. She leaned to the side, ready to lie down, but before her head could hit the pillow, a golden glint caught her eye. She turned her head, trying to get a better look. It was coming from the officer's duffel bag. She sat back up, curious, and crossed to the other bed to find out what the shiny object was.

She reached into the bag and pulled out his police badge. "Officer Steve Perry, Kansas Police Department," she read aloud to herself. She was about to toss the badge back into the bag when her gaze froze on another curious item. Slowly, she lifted the wallet-size object and stared at the same photo of the man on the police badge, only this one read "Agent Stark, FBI."

"What the hell?" she whispered as her forehead creased in confusion. Holding the two badges in one hand, she reached in the bag and discovered a third, fourth, and fifth piece of identification, all with the same photo, each with a different name assigned to it. Oh my god, she thought, dropping the IDs on the bed and turning to look at the closed bathroom door. Who are you?

Any tiredness she had felt was gone with this new surge of adrenaline. She knew she couldn't get far on foot, so she went with the first idea that came to mind: she snatched up the keys to the Impala and hurried out the door, being careful to close it quietly so as not to alarm the man still inside. She tucked herself behind the wheel and tensed as the vehicle roared to life. In a huff, she backed out of the parking space, put the car in gear, and sped off toward the only place she wanted to be: home.

The rumble of the engine resonated throughout the motel room. Confused by the sound, Dean turned off the tap to get a better listen. "Leah?" he called out, then paused, waiting for a response that never came. Please be asleep, he begged silently as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a clean white towel around his waist. He entered the now vacant room and spotted his IDs strewn over the bed. "Ah, shit," he muttered as he crossed the room to yank the door open.

"No… no, no, no," he repeated when he saw that his beloved Impala was gone. He went over to the nightstand with just a glimmer of hope that his keys would still be there and this was some kind of bad dream, and let out a string of curses when they were nowhere to be found. He quickly hauled some pants on before smashing the buttons on his phone to call Sam. He was pulling a t-shirt over his head when Sam answered on the third ring.

"Hey, De-"

"She took my car!"

"What? What are you talking about?"

"My car, Sam! The bitch took my car!" Dean spat. Sam could tell his brother was close to having a panic attack; the Impala was his baby.

"Okay, just calm down."

"I AM CALM!" Dean wheezed, trying to level out his lung spasms.

"Breathe, dude," came the voice over the phone. Sam waited until he could hear more settled breath sounds through the receiver. "Where are you?"

"The Lighthouse Motel, just off the highway," Dean answered, rubbing his eyes in frustration.

"Alright, I can be there in ten minutes. Just sit tight." Sam reached for his jacket and searched for the keys to one of the vintage autos in the garage. "Any idea where she would go?"

"She said she lives in Omaha, and she was taken from her college campus. I'd say that's a good start." Dean hung up the phone angrily and paced by the door, waiting for his brother to arrive.