"Is everything okay?" Sam asked on the way to a small town in south Texas. They were on their way to a possible davea case.

"Hm? Oh, yea. I'm fine." But she wasn't.

The two pink lines haunting her every thought were keeping her from being okay.

She found out two days ago that she was pregnant with Sam Winchester's child. She took the pregnancy test the night before she had wanted to leave. Bayleigh hadn't yet decided if it was a sign or terrible luck. Nor had she decided if she wanted to tell him or just leave, have the baby and put it up for adoption, and then go back to normal, minus Sam and Dean. She knew she was absolutely unfit to be a mother, especially now. What would she do with it? She couldn't raise it to hunt; Sam would never let her, but she couldn't give up hunting at all.

Looking at Sam's worried face made her decide to stay until she could figure out what to do.

"Are you sure? You look really pale. Do you want me to drive for a while?"

"Oh, okay. Sure." She pulled over to the side of the road the Impala pulled up beside them; there was no one on the road around them.

"You all good?" Dean asked.

"Yea, just switching seats," Sam replied. Dean looked at Bayleigh in the way he had been since she confessed how she was feeling to him. Waiting. Waiting for her to just… disappear.

"Okay. We're almost there. See you guys in forty-five minutes." The Impala gave an erotic growl and took off down the road.

•Twelve Days Later•

Bayleigh had told Sam to go on with the case without her. She was having terrible cramps and back pain and really just wanted to soak in a hot bath.

When he left, she filled the bathtub with hot water. It felt like forever before the tub was full, she was doubled over in pain practically the whole time. It had been a task taking her clothes off. She got in, groaning both from pain and relief as the water washed over her aching back and hips. Everything relaxed and the pain became bearable. She leaned back and dozed, playing with names she knew she would never give to this child. After a while, she fell asleep.

A sharp pain woke her. She gasped and sat up, groaning and clutching her abdomen. Her eyes widened as she saw what had happened.

The water was red with her blood.

She swallowed and climbed out of the tub, splattering red droplets of bloody water all over the grubby white bathroom. She pulled the plug and watched what was left of her baby wash down the drain. She then turned on the shower and washed the red off of her skin. She felt sad- or… more like pity for the being that had never had a real existence, and yet morbidly glad that her decision had been made for her. She dressed quickly, erased all traces of fresh blood from the bathroom, and turned on some music to calm her shaking nerves. She didn't know why she was so upset about the miscarriage. It was exactly what she needed: a real chance at a clean break from Sam. She wouldn't have much to remind her of him. With a kid, even if she gave it away, it would still be Sam's and she would still have that connection with him.

Bayleigh threw herself on the bed and rolled up into a fetal position, then unrolled with the thought of fetus. The boys banged through the door a few moments later. This time, Sam's worried face as he found her on the bed only made her want to leave more. She decided to do it that night.

Bayleigh woke up. Sam was snoring softly next to her, so she rolled out of his arms and off the bed. He stirred.

"Bay?" Her heart seemed to give out for a second.

"Go back to sleep, Sam," she said softly, going around the bed and touching his face. "I'm just going for a jog." He groaned and rolled over, falling asleep almost immediately.

Bayleigh dressed quickly and zipped up her duffel. She looked at the clock: just after four. She frowned and shook her head, then continued out the door.

When she got outside, she put the pickup in neutral and pushed it into another spot further away from the room before starting it. As she did, the door to the motel room next to theirs opened and Dean stepped out, arms crossed and glaring. But Bayleigh pulled out anyways, locking eyes with Dean, bravely she felt, as she did.

Once she was out of town, she pulled over to the side of the road and looked at the empty passenger seat. It had started with her in it, Rufus driving. Then her old dog Jake who passed away before she got Coby, then Coby, or Rye. And then finally Sam.

Sam.

The man who had taught her how to love again. Who gave her more than she could ever give him, give anyone else.

The man she was leaving behind.

Then she broke down, crying for the first time in years. Harder than she'd ever cried before.

When she finally regained composure, she took off down the road again with a jolt. She turned up the music to drown out her thoughts, but it proved counterproductive when it just forced memories of Sam in her pickup on her.

She drove for three days, transitioning between complete silence and music so loud it gave her headaches. She never stopped, except to fill up on gas. Her appetite was gone and she knew if she slept, she would dream of Him.

Sam sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, looking around. Bayleigh wasn't there. The shower wasn't on. Her presence, so strong to him, was absent. Her duffel bags were gone.

Sam banged on his brother's door. "Dean." The door opened. "Do you know where-" he trailed off. The look on Dean's face said everything. Bayleigh was gone. She had left him, just like she said she would.

"She warned you, Sammy," he said sadly.

Sam swore loudly and turned away. He rubbed a hand over his face and bit his lip. How could she do that? He thought that she loved him. He loved her! Why would she do something so cruel? "Fuck," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, Sam." He turned back to his brother, his eyes red.

"Me too." 'I just didn't believe it would happen. Not like this.'

•A Week Later•

A lot can happen in a week. For Bayleigh, it was everything short of a reckless rampage. She had almost died every day that week, and almost arrested three times. She just didn't care. What was left? Nothing.

She stumbled out of the abandoned house, not caring about leaving the body behind like that, and climbed into the Dodge. She was bleeding profusely out of multiple wounds and was positive she had more than one broken ribs. The Crocotta had really kicked her ass. It had lulled her here with Sam's voice, whispering forgiveness and love. Her hunter instincts had kicked in as it started feeding on her, whispering sweet nothings in Sam's voice. She had reached for the first sharp thing she touched and stabbed. When it started fighting back, she was sure she was done for and had started laughing.

Her reaction was what saved her. On instinct, she stabbed the monster, then lay on the ground. Her blood pooled and mixed the the Crocotta's. When she finally got up, she didn't even know what she was doing, why she was going towards her car. Maybe her subconscious wanted her to die in her car. Maybe it was just Hunter Survival kicking in again. She didn't know. She just turned on the engine and started driving, the pain making it hard to tell where she was going and how hard it was snowing. She drove on through a storm so thick with snow that it literally looked like hell had frozen over.

The dodge sputtered out, the heater turning off with the engine. She didn't even try to find another jacket or something to keep her warm before she fell asleep, the snow building up around her car, piling inch upon inch til it was nearly impossible to even open the door, as high as it was off the ground.

Bayleigh was trapped, but too delirious to realize it.