Chapter 13: Mistake
Leah, Dean, Sam, and Castiel slowly got out of the Impala, staring into the familiar empty field in front of them. It brought back so many familiar feelings and memories— for all them. Especially Leah.
"God this is where I died," she muttered, stepping over to the edge of the grass, touching it with the tip of her foot. A similar orange light streaked across the field, and it was even just as cold as it was five months ago, since it was only March and the warm spring air still had some time left before arriving.
"Yup," Dean agreed, looking around as well.
"Let's get this over with…" Leah said, sighing, and the four of them walked out into the deadened field. It was quite a peculiar sight— Leah leading the way, followed closely by Castiel who stared out into the field as if he was looking at something in the distance. Dean and Sam flanked the angel and Leah, taking up the rear, both looking very serious, Dean with his gun cocked and ready to fight. As if there was a fight anyway.
They reached the center of the field, looking around. Leah looked down at the grass underneath them. It was all mostly green, except for a large perfect circle that was browned.
"Right there…" Leah muttered, staring at the dead grass.
"It's buried here…" Castiel said. Sam pulled out a shovel.
"Okay Dean," he said. Dean looked at him.
"I ain't diggin' that thing up," he said haughtily. Leah rolled her eyes, and before Sam could reply, she reached out and snatched the shovel.
"I'll do it," she said roughly.
"No," Castiel cut in. Leah shot him a sharp look.
"What, can I not use a shovel or something?" she asked. Castiel looked at Leah. Without a word he took the shovel and handed it to Dean.
"It is too dangerous for her."
Both Dean and Leah's expressions dropped to annoyance. Sam, however, smirked and Castiel watched as Dean began begrudgingly digging where the dead grass lay. Only a minute into digging did Dean hit something— metal. He got on him knees, pushing the dirt away. Castiel stepped closer to Leah, an air of protection seeming to surround him. At last Dean grabbed a hold of something— and pulled. The jagged sword slid out of the dirt, coated with it but glimmering in the orange light.
"Is this it?" Dean asked. Castiel nodded. He reached out and took the sword. Now that was a peculiar sight. Seeing an angel holding a demon sword. Castiel looked over at Leah. He stared at her a second, before turning and setting the sword down.
"Okay, here goes," Sam said. He stepped over and pulled out a bottle of salt, holy water, and gasoline. He poured a great amount of it over the whole sword, smothering it quite well.
"You do the honours Leah," Sam said, handing Leah a match. She smiled, taking the match. Quickly, she ran it across her leather jacket to catch it alight, then she looked down at the sword gleaming in the dim light of the setting sun and the flaming match above.
"G'bye…" she muttered. Then she dropped the match. In an instant the sword caught fire, consuming the metal sword.
"Finally…" Leah said, watching as the sword slowly melted and burned away.
"Ok, well…" Sam said, looking over the map in his lap, "I guess we'll just head back to Bobby's again, then… find a job or something."
"Cool," Leah said, looking around. Dean, who was driving the Impala, looked in the rearview mirror at Leah.
"Hey— are you sticking around now that this sword-crap-slash-Zepheron-stuff is over?" he asked seriously.
"Yes, Dean, I'm sticking around," Leah replied, rolling her eyes. Dean nodded in silence. But Leah saw him smile just slightly at the corner of his mouth. Leah looked over at her bag, and then began sifting through it. She frowned.
"Hey, d'you think we could stop by a laundry mat or something?" she asked. Sam looked back at her. Leah pulled out a few shirts. They were covered in blood.
"Great…" she muttered.
"Yeah we can stop," Dean replied. Leah stuffed the shirts back into her bag.
"What happened?" Sam asked curiously.
"Probably that stupid white shirt," Leah replied, "I haven't checked it since the hospital." Sam nodded, turning back to the front of the Impala. Leah looked over at the now-empty seat next to her. Castiel had left them, now knowing Leah was safe. That conversation played back in her mind—
"So you're just gonna leave then?" Leah asked, folding her arms sourly.
"Since you're no longer in danger of reanimating your wound, my job here is done," Castiel replied.
"That was quick body-guarding…" Leah muttered. Castiel turned back to Dean and Sam.
"I will stay in touch through your—phones—" he said, pulling out a small black cell phone. He looked at it a moment before stowing it away again.
"Okay then," Leah said, frowning again.
"It's not good-bye," Castiel said, looking at Leah again, "I must go and research… there is something I need to find out." Leah nodded.
"Farewell," Castiel finally said, and suddenly he was gone with the fluttering sound of wings.
Leah shook herself from the memory. He'll be back… she thought quietly.
Dean parked the Impala, and Leah looked out across the parking lot at the laundry mat. When the three of them stepped out of the car, Leah notice a small local diner across the street.
"Hey," Leah said, "I'll go grab some food and meet you back in there." Dean glanced at the diner swiftly.
"'Kay," he agreed, and the three split up.
Leah walked into diner, looking around.
"How can I help you ma'am?" the waiter asked kindly at the bar counter.
"Got anything good?" Leah asked with a grin, stepping up to the counter.
"Well our morning special is sausage and an English muffin, but personally I like the biscuits and gravy," the waiter replied, whispering sarcastically.
"Okay, two biscuits and gravy, and one morning special," Leah said. "to go." The waiter nodded.
"Wow that's a lot for one person," someone spoke suddenly. Leah whipped around in shock. A young man sat on the barstool next to her. A very familiar-looking young man. Leah cocked her head slightly to the side.
"Matt?" she questioned. The young man broke out into a wide and gorgeous grin.
"Well golly, you remembered me Claire," he said joyfully. Leah smiled in uncertainty.
"Yeah," she said slowly, "wow— what's the change of seeing you here?" Matt shrugged, still grinning.
"So we meet up again and you're still eating biscuits and gravy?" he said jokingly, "and a lot more of them?"
"Well, no, these aren't all for me," Leah laughed, "they're for my friends." Matt blinked, looking at her questioningly.
"Friends?" he asked curiously, with a slightly hint of innocence.
"Yeah, I'm road-tripping with them," Leah explained.
"I thought you were road-tripping alone?" Matt asked.
"Well I was… 'til about a week ago. We met up again, and we've been travelling together since," Leah replied. Matt nodded in understanding.
"So how do you know these friends of yours?" he asked ever-so-innocently after a moment.
"Um… about five months ago my brother got into— some trouble. I met them and they decided to help me. So… we've been friends ever since really," Leah explained, trying not to give too much information.
"Well why aren't you road-tripping with your brother?" Matt asked, laughing lightly.
"Because he died," Leah said quickly, looking away. Matt's smile faded.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Ah, don't be," Leah said, picking at a spot on the counter in front of her, "what's done is done. Can't change the past." It got silent a moment.
"Well, I'm over here blabbing," Leah said, "I didn't even ask about you. So why're you in town?"
"Just… hunting," Matt replied. Leah stopped. Strange. It wasn't hunting season around here.
"Buck?" she asked, trying not to think past the necessary boundaries.
"Hm, a little bit of everything, really," Matt said. Leah stared at him. Before she could reply, the waiter finally reappeared.
"Here you are ma'am," he said, and he placed her order on the counter.
"Um, yeah, thanks," Leah said, turning to him. She payed quickly, giving a nice tip, then she stood.
"Well, it was nice to see you again Matt," Leah said, nodding. Matt smiled.
"You too, Claire. Maybe we'll miraculously meet up again?" he replied lightly.
"Yeah," Leah said back, "maybe." And with that she left the diner.
Leah was still trying to shake off the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach when she reached the laundry mat. Sam met her at the entrance.
"Thanks Leah," he said as they walked in. Leah frowned, not replying. Dean automatically noticed her strange look.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked as he pulled out their breakfast.
"The weirdest thing happened," Leah said, frowning as she thought. "I met this guy in the diner who I haven't seen in… about a week actually." Sam looked at Leah inquisitively.
"Last week… I met this guy. Matt. In a diner one morning… We talked a little. Then we went our separate ways. Then today we just so happened to meet again, in a diner, one week later. I mean, what's the chance of that?"
"Slim?" Sam said, looking at Leah, frowning in thought as well.
"Stalker?" Dean suggested, his voice muffled by the breakfast that was stuffed in his mouth. Leah shook her head.
"No… he's too… nice. And mysterious," she said.
"Probably good-looking too, right?" Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes and taking another bite of his biscuit.
"Shut-up," Leah snapped, walking over to the nearest washing machine, trying to ignore Dean's comment.
"Don't worry about it Leah," Sam said encouragingly, "we'll just keep an eye out for anything unusual, okay?" Leah nodded.
"Yeah, like some random hot guy peeking in through your motel room window," Dean added with a smirk.
"Shut-up Dean," Sam said back, glaring at his brother. Dean shot Sam a dirty look and Leah rolled her eyes. She pulled out her bloody clothing from her bag. She sighed in frustration, seeing the blood. Then she pulled out her white blouse that she wore the night when her wound broke open. And they day she almost became soup on a motorcycle. And the day she met up with Dean and Sam again after five months. Leah held up the memory-filled shirt. It was now almost pure red.
"God I'm never wearing white again," Leah muttered. Sam looked over at her, smiling slightly. As she threw her other clothes in, she stopped before throwing in the white blouse.
"Hey," she said, "what happened to my shirt?" she looked around, counting the clothing.
"I swear," she muttered.
"What is it?" Sam asked.
"I'm missing a shirt… two shirts actually," Leah replied. Then she stopped.
"And what the crap happened to my white shirt?" she held up the red-stained shirt, inspecting the missing buttons. Dean looked up from his eating.
"Oh, um… hehe…" he said with a small nervous laugh. Leah looked at him, her eyebrows raised.
"When you—er— had your "accident," I had to, um…" Dean said, nodding at the shirt. Leah looked at it.
"You ripped my fricken shirt?" she asked harshly.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Dean said with another nervous laugh.
"Well I hope you got a good show," Leah muttered darkly, turning away and throwing the shirt back in the washer. Dean only smiled slightly to himself.
"But I didn't steal your other shirts," he did add before Leah could say anything else.
"Whatever," Leah muttered," tossing the rest of her clothes into the washer. Suddenly she stopped. There was a small pain in her stomach. Then it abruptly got intense, and Leah doubled over.
"Oh crap," she said through gritted teeth. Dean and Sam jumped up in alarm. Leah straightened, looking down at her hands. They were bloody.
"Not again," she said, looking up at Dean and Sam before collapsing to the floor.