Author's Note: Well I'm back everyone. Nice little vacation I had and wow, look at that. An update! Hooray!!! So, this will be the second last chapter. It all comes down to this folks. The action, the tears, the pain, drama, everything. Hope its not too rushed or anything and you understand the ending of this if not just let me know and I'll do my best to clear things up. Anywho, enjoy and keep your eyes peeled for the last chapter. It should be up in a day or two, depends on how many reviews I get. ;) ;)

Side note: I had BAD! MAJOR! PAINFUL even, writers block. I could barely write and so the beginning of this chapter is a result of that. If it stinks I'ts because I was struggling to write and I wasn't in the game. Hope its not too bad. :( There, you were warned.

Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural. Dang!

Crash Course

By: Babyhilts

Chapter 17: Part 2

Yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead

Yesterday is a promise that you've broken

Don't close your eyes

Don't close your eyes

This is your life and today is all you got now

And today is all you'll ever have

Don't close your eyes

Don't close your eyes

This is your life are you who you wanna be

This is your life--Switchfoot

Sam flipped hurriedly through the leather bound book. Head lowered and brow creased with frustration. I watched over his shoulder as another page was viciously turned. The moment he knew I wasn't going to die from the assault to my chest, he took it upon himself to finish the hunt. Going through the book and searching for any possible way of killing the red eyed son of a bitch. I was thinking the same as he was. That perhaps, just maybe, Dean and him had missed something. Of course, everyone always hopes for that when it comes down to the wire.

The paper crunched and wrinkled as his callused hands flipped. Crunch, wrinkle, flip. Crunch, wrinkle, flip. Watching Sam Winchester was like watching a wild undergraduate student, high on caffeine, trying to cram for his exams; desperate and unsettling. His soft eyes had become glassy and I knew he wasn't really there with Dean and me anymore. He was in another place. A place filled with Latin protection rituals and pentagrams.

White light danced across the page Sam was reading. The shaggy head shifted until a tired face peered over a broad shoulder. It wasn't until then that I became aware of what was going on. With a gentle smile, Sam turned his attention away from the book and steadied my hand. It had been shaking. Holding the flashlight and trembling to the point that Sam was probably seeing more of the dark than the pages themselves.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

I felt like an idiot. Here he was, watching out for his unconscious brother, a dumb blonde chick from Canada and looking to find some way of killing a devil and here all I had to do was hold a flashlight and I couldn't even get that right.

Taking my hands from his, I wrapped them both around the flashlight, holding the metal handle as tightly as I could in my hands. Sam's smirk widened. I didn't see what was so funny. If God should strike me dead right then and there, I was going to do my part in this hunt.

"Leah, it's okay."

"What are you talking about? I'm fine Sam. Keep reading before that thing comes back."

Sam shook his head and eased forward, prying my fingers apart until the flashlight fell into his lap. He nodded to where Dean still lay, dead to the world.

"Go watch him for a while. Try and get him to come around."

"But Sam, I can do this. Just let me help…"

"That would help. Come on, you look about as tired as I feel. Besides, I didn't get tossed around like a sack of potatoes five minutes ago. So go."

He gave me a playful shove in his brother's direction. I grunted my disapproval and was ready to let him hear about it but he had already gone back to reading.

Frustrated and yet a little relieved to be able to sit and relax for a few minutes I got to my feet. Brushing off layers of cemetery grass and mud, I walked to where Dean was. I pulled my hair loose and wrapped the elastic around my wrist. With my back to him I called out to Sam.

"You better not ask me to hold your flashlight for you ever again" I said in voice that was laced with pure hurt. Well, not completely pure.

Sam laughed and shook his head.

"Don't worry. I just hope I can manage."

The eldest Winchester moaned, his head pressing further into the soggy earth by my knees. I got close and pulled his head into my lap. Unlike the other times, this time he didn't stop with just one moan. He let loose one more and tossed his right cheek into my thigh. His teeth clicked as his top hit his bottom. A groan followed and he continued to fidget. I moved in for a closer look, our faces inches apart. There was movement behind his closed eyes.

"I think he's coming around."

"Good, try and make sure he stays that way. We need all the help we can get."

Head still tossing in my lap, I started to call the older man back into the real world. His face scrunched up like he took a bite of a lemon before relaxing.

"Oh, no you don't. Dean Winchester you wake up right now."

He groaned and hit his left cheek against my thigh. I caressed his face with the palms of my hands. Shaky fingers made their way over his stubble cheeks and into his hair. I massaged his temples, whispering words of encouragement. Another moan escaped his chapped lips but this time it was a moan of pleasure. An instant later his eyes began to flutter and a set of unfocused hazel orbs were staring up at me, looking lost and confused.

"Welcome back" I said.

He cocked his head and in a raspy voice asked "Kate Moss?"

My fingers stopped mid massage. "No. Leah Carlson."

Dean squinted his eyes a little more before shutting them completely. "Damn."

"Excuse me?"

"For a second I thought I was in heaven."

He moved his head back into place against my thigh.

"And what, sitting in a cemetery with me is hell?"

"No" he groaned "but its close enough."

"You cocky son of a…"

With a harsh shove, I removed Dean's head from my lap. It hit the grass below with a thud followed by a short lived yelp. By now his eyes were wide and he was maneuvering himself onto his stomach.

"Jesus woman, I'm barely conscious here."

Hands on my hips, I loomed over his sprawled form, seething like a rabid animal. My hair fell across my face in a static mess of blonde curls and I waved my hands around dramatically illustrating my rage.

"Well maybe you can get Kate Moss to nurse you."

"Are you kidding me? Come on…"

"No you come on. You know what you are Dean Winchester? You are an overgrown teenager!"

Dean glared and propped himself onto his elbows.

"You're unbelievable you know that? I mean is it that hard for you to get through more than five minutes without making some type of feminist, independent woman, don't need no man crap?"

"What?"

"You know what I mean. Everything you say makes it seems as though I'm the thing in Darwin's theory that every other man evolved from. Or that I only think with my downstairs brain or…"

"Oh, save it for Oprah Dean."

Dean veered his head back as though he'd been slapped in the face.

I smirked. "This isn't some after school special. You really think I wanna listen to you pull a chick flick."

"This is not a chick flick" he said through clenched teeth.

"Is."

"Are you five? I'm not doing this."

"Fine."

"Besides, I'm right. It isn't."

I laughed out loud or lol'd if you will and said "Hey Sam, you're the queen of chick flicks. On a scale of one to Oprah, how chick flicky was that?"

No one answered. Dean adjusted himself on the grass and I looked to where I had last seen Sam but there was no one there. The flashlight was still on, yet it now lay lonely on the damp grass. The book was missing.

"Sammy?"

Dean stumbled to my side, bracing himself against my back. He grabbed onto my left shoulder, jarring my sore chest and ribs and bringing me to let out a low growl of discomfort. Without a word he lowered his hands and lifted the bottom of my shirt, just as his brother had done and took a good look at the left side of my ribs. I shooed the comforting hand away and pulled the fabric back into place.

"It's nothing."

"Like hell it's nothing. What happened to you?"

"I'm fine Dean. What I'm more worried about right now is Sam."

Guilt for leaving the young man alone was starting to eat away at me. I moved to pick up the flashlight, thinking that if I hadn't left his side than maybe he'd still be there.

Gripping the metal in my hand, I scanned the surrounding area. The beam revealed only so much and what the light didn't show, I tried to find by squinting my eyes and peering out behind the pale light.

Dean was moving behind me, cocking his rock salt filled shot gun and doing his own surveying. Hunter mode set in both of us we began to move as one unit, searching the cemetery for the youngest Winchester. I was wishing I hadn't lost my handgun but I wasn't all that scared. I still had the hunting knife tucked safely in my boot. Maybe this would be a good time to take it out.

The thought was quickly extinguished however when a familiar shape appeared ahead of us. Not bringing it to Dean's attention just yet, I stepped cautiously around the tombstones. A lanky form that could only be Sam Winchester was pinned to a nearby birch tree. Head lowered, chin resting on his chest. I thought I could see blood but I was still too far away.

"Dean" I whispered.

He looked to where the yellow beam still spotlighted the young Winchester and tightened his grip on the shotgun. He moved with the caution and stealth of a well trained hunter. I followed a few feet behind, making sure to keep enough light on the young man.

Once we reached our destination it became quite clear that there was nothing holding him up, nothing we could see anyway. I tensed at this realization, knowing the red eyed man couldn't be too far away.

Dean reached under Sam's chin and in true big brother fashion, lifted it until he could get a good look at his sibling's battered face. Rivers of dark red scarred the young man's cheeks while a purple bruise marred his right temple. Sam pulled away from the warm touch of Dean's hand and began to open his eyes.

"Dean?" he groaned.

"Sammy what did I tell you about blocking with your face?"

"Sorry" he mumbled and lowered his head as if it had taken a lot out of him to get out those two words.

"Well, isn't this just darling."

The pale beam wavered as my hands began to shake. Whatever tension I had been feeling was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. Dean removed his hand from Sam and used it to steady his gun. Together we turned. Me with my flashlight, him with his gun and we caught the man, the devil with the red eyes who had pinned Sammy to the tree.

"You kids sure are cute you know that?"

Dean raised the gun into the air and started to aim. If the man was at all intimidated by the gesture he did nothing to show it.

I took this time to step away from Dean. I wanted to get that damn knife out of my boot. The devil had his attention completely on the hunter and if I could just get out that blade than I knew I could protect myself. I mean what was I supposed to do with a flashlight? Shadow puppet him to death?

"Dean Winchester. All finished your beauty sleep?"

My fingers found the sheathed knife. They grazed the handle and inched their way towards the blade. I tugged at the casing around the sharpened metal, doing my best to free it from the protective fabric.

Taking on a husky tone Dean replied "Yeah just can't get enough of it."

I smiled, feeling the fabric start to fall away. I mentally congratulated Dean, encouraging him to throw a few cocky insults into the mix.

"I'm sure" the man muttered.

The sheath slid off the blade and dropped into my boot. I moved my hand back up to the handle when a feeling of unease settled in.

"What have we got here?"

Lifting my head, I struggled to make out Dean and the devil through the curtain of blonde hair dangling in front of me.

The strange man smirked and shook his head mockingly in my direction. "Oh Leah. I can't have you playing with sharp objects. You know that."

I struggled desperately with the blade and as it was halfway out the boot I felt myself tossed some few feet off the ground. Wind knocked from my lungs, I gasped, turning onto my side and beginning to rise to my feet. The blade was cutting into my ankle but I didn't have time to pull it free. An invisible hand shoved me in the back and I was once again on the ground. Panting on my knees, I dug my fists into the ground and tried to get up once more.

"She doesn't give up does she Dean?" I heard the demon say. From the darkness I felt a foot make contact with my right side and I flipped onto my back with a cry of pain.

"You son of a bitch. I'm going to kill you. You hear me!"

A harsh laugh cut through the night air, stirring the grass and causing the trees to sway furiously back and fourth.

"That'd be a neat trick boy."

A shot rang out and Dean -minus the shotgun- landed next to me on the ground. He gasped, sucking in quick, rapid breaths as he tried to get himself together.

"Stay put" were his instructions before he got back on his feet and charged the devil. An instant later he was lying next to me, panting once again.

"You three" the man snickered. "You are a pathetic bunch."

Dean seemed livid by the comment and was already propping himself up when I gave him a quick shove in the chest. He turned hateful eyes upon me and instead of reacting to the look I pulled open his leather coat and scooped out the flask of holy water.

"Leah, what are you doing?"

"Never mind" I said and got to my feet.

"Well, back for more little girl?"

I smirked. "Something like that."

Dean laced his hand in mine and drew me behind him.

"Dean!"

"Come on boy. She's a big girl. If she wants to take me on let her."

Dean's hand was ripped from mine as his body was flung to the ground. He groaned and tried to sit up but an invisible force seemed to be making sure he stayed down.

"Dean!"

Sam's cries reached us from where he was still pinned to the tree. I turned to the eldest Winchester and couldn't help but feel responsible for the both of them. If only I hadn't interfered in all of this than maybe they'd be wining.

I began to twist the lid of the flask.

"Heartbreaking isn't it?"

I continued to unscrew the cap. "What is?"

"Them" he gestured to Dean and then to his brother. "You know it's your fault that their loosing. Your fault that Dean's little brother is hurt."

The cap stopped turning and my fingers stayed frozen on the lid. I could feel Dean's eyes on me and I couldn't help but glance at him. He seemed so helpless pinned to the grass that way. I looked back to the devil, the guilt lacing the blood in my veins.

"Leah, he's playing you. Don't listen to him. It's not your fault…"

"Boy shut it."

The sound of flesh against flesh echoed off the wall of trees. Dean's lip was split. He spit out the blood and glared defiantly at the man.

"You hit like my brother." He smirked. "Leah, snap out of it damnit. He's lying."

"No." I whispered. "It's true."

The devil seemed to approve of my answer. I kept my eyes unfocused and my attention on the ground, although I could still make out his movements from the corner of my eye. He was walking towards me.

"Leah, what the hell. Do something."

"No Dean. It's my fault. I should have stayed with Missouri. You were right. He is right."

"Leah, no. I swear to God if you don't snap out of it I'm going to kick your ass myself you here me?"

I felt a heavy hand land on top of my shoulder. Looking up, I found myself locked in the cold, red eyed gaze of the dark haired man. He smirked.

"You are right Leah."

I nodded and twisted the lid the rest of the way off the flask of holy water. The cap dropped soundlessly to the grassy floor below. I wrapped my hand tightly about the metal body.

"I know" I whispered and before anyone could see it coming, I pulled myself out from under the hand. Flask high in the air, I gave it a hard shake, spraying holy water over the red eyed man. He screamed, his pain ripping through the midnight air as I continued to douse him. He brought his hands up to protect his face and stumbled backwards, tripping over his feet as he did his best to get away from the onslaught of water. However, with every step he took back, I took two more forward. I heard Sam yelling something behind me and heard the running of feet. The flask was nearly empty when a set of rough hands grabbed hold of my flask shaking arm and pulled me into them.

I collided with Dean's chest. The flask slipped from hands on impact

"You are one crazy chick you know that?"

I smirked. "Those high school drama classes sure paid off."

The youngest hunter appeared as only a shadow in the suffocating black ahead. No longer restrained by supernatural powers, he walked steadily towards Dean and I. He wore a tired smile that did nothing to cover up the pain he was obviously feeling. Even from where I stood it was quite clear he was still suffering but at least he was free and mobile.

Dean relinquished the muscled arm that had been supporting my lower back, pulling me closer towards him. I gave him a nod of reassurance and slipped out of the protective hold. It felt comforting and safe to have those arms wrapped about my waist that way, but it was foolish to stay like that. We were still on a hunt. Sam had been injured and the two of us had been like rabbits caught in a snare only a few minutes earlier.

Sam's approach slowed as he drew closer to us. My heart tightened, not out of fear, but of pure relief at the small gem I saw tucked in the crook of his left arm. After his short Houdini act I had thought the worst had happened to the book Missouri had leant us. Not that it had gotten stolen and we'd have to pay some outrageous library fee, but that the red eyed stranger had pocketed it or that it had gotten lost in the scuffle. Without that torn, piece of leather and paper we had no hope of getting out of this thing; none at all. I didn't need to be a seasoned hunter to figure that out.

A low, animalistic sound erupted from behind Dean. It disrupted my moment of joy at seeing Sam and quickly jolted me back into reality. My gaze shifted to the ground where the flask continued to empty itself of the remaining holy water. There was the shuffling of feet through thick, uncut grass and weeds and I could hear the grunts of frustration.

Apprehension wrapped about me like a noose as I turned to meet this thing head on. The devil in question was hunched over like an arthritic old man. A meaty set of hands knotted themselves in his shirt, pulling and tugging, letting thick, swirls of white steam pour out of the burns that I had inflicted. I felt pride filter into my stomach, warming me like Scotch on a cold winter's day. The devil raised his head, eyes shimmering with red malice. A sadistic grin curled his lips and slowly he began to pull himself together. Straightening his back, he now appeared more confident and must have grown at least two feet in the last few minutes.

"Stupid, meddling bitch" he spat through clenched teeth. "I should have never brought you into this. Now I'm going to finish what I started."

I watched in awe as Dean moved in front of me, creating some type of man sexy wall as a defense. I wanted to point out to him that using your body as a shield wouldn't be the brightest idea but for some reason my brain and mouth were having a Cool Hand Luke moment. You know, 'what we have here is a failure to communicate' sort of thing.

The devil seemed to understand what Dean was doing. In one instant he took a step forward and in the next the trained hunter was on his knees, a deep cut oozing blood from his right breast.

"I've had about all I can take from you Winchesters."

I crouched down to Dean's level, grabbed his face in my hands and tried to get his eyes to focus on mine. He was panting, not too hard, but enough to send me into a panic. How deep was the cut? Was he now bleeding to death? How do I stop the blood and still fight this thing?

Someone was breathing harsh, gasping breaths into my ear. It wasn't Dean; I knew that because I was looking at him at the moment. They kept it up and I wanted to slam a fist full of knuckles into some part of them in order to silence the ragged breaths.

Dean's eyes finally focused on my own. His usual easy going demeanor faltered. A callused hand latched onto one of my arms.

"Leah…" he whispered and then he was gone. Tumbling through the grass and doing a few sets of sloppy somersaults.

"Can't have you hyperventilating on me just yet dear."

It was then that I noticed how hard it was becoming for me to get any air into my lungs. My chest felt tight and constricted and the pain from earlier was burning a trail of agony up and down my sides. I immediately thought back to that day where something similar had happened to me. Dean's instructions from the episode outside that greasy spoon in WestTexas floated back to me. I tried my best to take in deep, calming breaths. After another minute my breathing started to even out.

"There, are we all better now?"

"Bastard" I cursed, hands fisting at my side.

"Guess so."

Something tugged impatiently on my heels. I quickly lowered my head to the ground and within seconds felt myself dragged from behind. Wet clumps of earth shot out from under the heels of my boots. The knife shifted against my ankle and cut through the soft flesh once more. I was dragged rapidly through the cemetery and I could hear the familiar shouts of the two Winchesters. Trees blurred into one looming piece of rough bark and shriveled leaves. The stars ahead danced like tiny specks of dust illuminated by the night sky. My stomach curled and its contents nearly came back up as I was hurtled through the air and slammed, back first into one of the church walls.

Tears crept from my tightly closed eyelids. Pieces of brick shattered from the impact were now littering the grass. My feet were still firmly in place on level ground but the rest of me remained erect and pinned to the church. The pain took hold of me fast and all I wanted was to get away from it. More tears stained my cheeks as I realized how helpless I was at the moment. I wanted nothing more than to pull away from the church and let myself crumple to the ground in a mess of tears and flesh but I couldn't. That realization hurt more than anything.

"You son of a bitch. You let her go. She didn't do anything. It's us you want."

"Dean Winchester. Always willing to sacrifice himself to save the innocent."

"Yeah, your damn right I am."

Through a thin layer of dampened eyelashes and unshed tears I could see the red eyed man. He stood between the church where I was pinned and the spot on the cemetery carpet where Dean now lay. I looked closer and could make out Sam, once again pinned to a tree, however this one was closer and he didn't appear to be as helpless as his brother and I were. He had the book opened and was flipping like a madman through the already badly damaged pages. Luckily for him his arms hadn't been restrained otherwise I would have lost all hope.

"Well, unfortunately for you I intend to follow through with my plans for Ms. Carlson."

At the mention of my name the devil shifted his focus back on me. My bottom lip quivered in anticipation. I tried desperately to move my hands; to move my feet but it was useless. The devil's smirk grew even when I thought it couldn't get any bigger, but it did.

"You remember what I told you that day, in this very same spot? I said the Winchesters would die here in Stull or you, Leah Carlson would take their place. Well, it looks like I get both."

The man looked away a moment, back to Dean.

"You miss your mommy Dean?"

"What?"

"Of course you do. Who wouldn't miss their dead mother?"

Dean's jaw clamped shut as his eyes turned hard as stone.

"I'm sure Sammy over there sure wishes he could have known her. Hell, we all know how much he misses poor Jessica, don't we?"

"Yeah, well as much as I like this nostalgic walk down memory lane, how about you get to the point."

The devil laughed and cornered me in with his large frame. His hand cupped my chin. I flinched as the fingers outlined my jaw and wandered up into my blonde curls.

"That is just the point Dean. A nostalgic walk and I am your tour guide" he paused and turned my face towards Dean.

"She sure does look an awful like your Mary doesn't she? A bit fatter but you can still see it."

He lowered his hands and backed away one final time.

"You know Dean, I am a fan of older films. I like to watch them. Like to play them over and over again. Stop the reel right at my favourite spots and watch those again and again until I've had enough. It's the same way with reminiscing about old memories. I play the ones that I enjoyed again and again until I grow bored of it. But you know what I have yet to grow tired of?"

Dean's eyes widened. My feet slowly lifted off the ground. The rough brick of the church wall grinded painfully through my t-shirt and into my flesh as I was dragged upwards.

"I will never get tired of your mother's death. So beautifully executed it was. The raining down of embers on your little head as you watched confused under the nursery window. Sammy in your little arms; both of you unable to do a thing. Almost like you are now. But you see that was a demon and like I always say, 'Never send a demon to do a devil's job.' That is why you both are here now. I will finish what he could not do months ago and at the same time will get the chance to replay my favourite memory of all time. It's one of yours of course but I'm sure I'll get just as much satisfaction out of it as you will."

My back stopped its slow incline up the side of the church wall. Chin resting on my chest, I tried to expel the pain that was eating away at me. Panting, I stretched my head upwards and could make out the lean figure of Sam Winchester, still going by unnoticed with the leather bound book balancing awkwardly in his open hands. He seemed to have found what he was looking for as the pages no longer continued to turn.

"Sorry it had to come to this dear."

The devils eyes darkened until they reached a deep red. His hands twitched unsteadily at his sides. It looked as though he needed a fix of some sort but I soon realized that that wasn't why. A minute passed, his head lowered and his hands took on a dangerous shake and then suddenly pain was all around me. At first everywhere. My calves burned as though I'd run a marathon and even my teeth ached. Slowly the pain lessened but only because it was coming together in one large clump of torture.

A loud shriek, from deep within my chest tore through the night air. Tears poured down my face and I could barely see Sam staring at me from where he was still trapped. I looked down and was shocked to find my abdomen had split open, leaking a line of thick red. The waistband of my jeans soon turned brown and I vaguely thought that now I'd have to steal some more money from Dean to get myself a new pair.

"Leah!"

The pain increased and I cried out again. I heard Dean calling my name and I wanted nothing more than to find him but moving my head had become a hard task. It moved the wrong way and was heavy as hell. I saw the blood leaving me faster and faster. My pants were getting soaked in the dark liquid and I suddenly felt very cold. My arms dangled limply off the brick wall.

"Awe, nothing like a good dose of nostalgia. Wouldn't you say?" mused the devil.

"I swear to God. I will kill you" said Dean.

The devil laughed. A hearty laugh that if it wasn't laced with such sinister intent, would have seemed almost pleasing. The laugh grew, louder and more joyful until it became a scream. An agonizing wail came from the devil's mouth. I opened my eyes and watched his blurred figure stumble forward, hand over his chest. Immediately I thought I was hallucinating. That all the blood loss was making me see something that wasn't there and then a second later the pressure holding me to the church was gone.

Back no longer pinned to the rough brick wall, I was dropped like a piece of lead. I landed on my feet before the weight of standing up became too much and a second later crumpled to the ground. A Latin ritual carried its way across the air and Sam's comforting voice was the one yelling it. I smirked and fell face forward into the grass. The early morning dew felt nice against my skin. I lay there, letting the water take me in.

"Leah, are you okay?"

Dean was at my side, hands around me and pulling me into his lap. I didn't have the strength to protest as he let my back rest on his folded knees. He inched my shirt up, past the braw until it was more of a scarf than anything. He swore and I felt his callused fingers make contact near my navel. Tired and sore, I let out a small giggle at the ticklish feeling running up my spine.

"Jeez, you've lost a lot of blood."

"Dun't worreeee. I've ghat lotssss to spare."

"Shit."

He lifted my head and called out to Sam. I'm not sure what he said because things were starting to get dark. I could hear the youngest Winchester following through with the rest of the ritual. Next to me I heard movement and that sadistic voice, laced with pain and nearing what I hoped was death, whispered to Dean one last time.

"This is not over Winchester. Not for you and especially not for her."

Sometime after that everything went black, but not in a loosing conscious sort of sense. It was a different feeling. I was still awake but everything had grown dark. I felt myself floating weightlessly in the thick ebony. There was no pain. No sounds. Just the uncomfortable black.

I stretched my legs and was surprised when they clicked against solid ground. I tapped them a few times to verify this and I was right. Light soon filtered in. Bright, white light, emanating from incandescent bulbs. The smell of cleaning detergents and latex burned my nose. I shielding my eyes from the light and slowly let myself adjust to my new surroundings. It was only after a moment when I had a chance to really see, that I realized my surroundings were not that foreign at all. In fact, I had become quite accustom to the place in the last few days.

Running a tired hand along my face, I approached the familiar hospital bed that still contained my coma induced self. However, I stopped when a dark shape formed over the stiff white sheets. It was just that, a dark shape; a sinister shadow, just looming above my bed. If it weren't for the deep red eyes that turned on me at that moment then I wouldn't have known what it was.

A long extension of the shadow drew closer to my still body. I made a move to stop it but was blown back into the wall. I dropped to the floor, trying to gather enough strength to try again when the glint of a metal blade appeared from the ebony devil. A voice echoed through the white room. There was no mouth visible that could have spoken but I knew it belonged to the threatening shadow.

"You tell those Winchesters they haven't seen the last of me. Their trick back there with the banishing ritual can only banish me from their world for so long."

He leaned in over my chest. I got to my feet just as the blade dangled dangerously over my body's chest. His eyes glowed menacingly.

"I told you Leah Carlson. It was either you or the Winchesters and I always keep my word."

The sharp metal cut the air and tore through my chest. A sharp sting was all I felt but my body jerked off the bed and then settled. Blood pooled around the blade and I could make out the sound of the bed springs creaking nosily as it was pushed deeper into the flesh. A loud beeping sound rang out and the door to the room was thrown open. A man -who I recognized as my doctor- came rushing in, flanked by two nurses. The shadow disappeared into a pile of dark smoke that escaped through the air vents. The knife however still remained. Erect and imbedded in my chest.

I felt my stomach turn and I stumbled forward in shock. The blood had leaked onto the polished linoleum, creating a dark, red puddle about the nurse's sneaker covered feet. The beeping sound was extinguished. Things were growing dark once again and I felt myself floating weightlessly. The last thing I saw before the scene faded to nothing was the heart monitor next to my bed as it flat lined.

The darkness gradually cleared and once again the pain was there, eating away at my stomach. I opened my eyes, blinked away the tears and stared up into the face of Sam Winchester. It was now his lap that I lay in.

"Thank God" I heard Dean whisper from my left. "Sammy, I thought that ritual was only supposed to banish that red eyed son of a bitch."

"It was."

Dean appeared in my line of sight and took my hand in his. "Then what happened to Leah? Why did she disappear with him?

Sam paused. "Their connection maybe? He was the one who brought her here, I'm sure he could have taken her back."

It dawned on me as they continued to talk what had just happened. The past few minutes quickly assaulted me and I realized in horror what it all meant. What Missouri had said about my body being attached to me here and what the shadow back at the hospital had just done.

Desperately I grabbed hold of Dean's arm, drawing his attention back on me. Tears trickled down the sides of my face. I could feel the cold filtering into my body once again and I was growing tired but it didn't matter.

"Dean" I slurred.

"Shh, don't talk right now" Sam commanded. Dean nodded but I only shook my head.

"He took me back."

"Leah…"

"He took me back so that he could show me" I sucked in a ragged breath.

"Show you what Leah?" said Sam.

"Show me that he was right. That…that I …that I would die. If you two didn't…than…than I would."

"No ones dying" shouted Dean.

He reached down and scooped me into his arms. He held me close to his chest as he began to jog through the cemetery, Sam right on his heels. I reached up and laced my hand in his t-shirt and pushed my face into the soft fabric.

"It's too late Dean" I muttered.

He never broke stride but answered with a "What do you mean it's too late?"

"I'm already dead. He killed me Dean" the tears ran rampant down my cheeks and I buried myself further into his chest before crying out the last few words. "Dean, I'll never be able to go back home. He killed me."

DUN DUN DUN. Lol. Next chapter will be up sooner if only you review, review, review.