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The next morning
Dean anxiously tapped his fingers on the table in the diner. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he waited and waited—for Sam to come back from the bathroom.
Dean couldn't take much more of this—it was all completely ridiculous. It was bad enough that his brother was a psychic and had visions all the time, bad enough that Gordon was always out to kill him, bad enough that a bunch of demons wanted him to lead their freakin' army. But now he had to worry that his brother might, at any moment, vanish into an alternate reality where everything was out to kill him. Dean was scared that if he took his eyes off of his brother for one second he would vanish.
At long last Sam walked back into the room and sat down across from him. "Finally." Dean muttered.
Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Dean…I was only gone for like two minutes."
"I wasn't worried, if that's what you're implying…" Dean shot back, taking a sip of his steaming coffee. "I was just remarking on how long you took—what were you doing, reapplying your makeup?"
Sam smiled and shook his head. "Whatever." He picked up his fork and took a bite out of the scrambled eggs in front of him. "If we make good time we should arrive at Leandra's house by tonight." He said, looking up at his brother. "Luckily she doesn't live too far away…"
"I still don't get why we're paying her family a visit, Sammy. She told you that she ran away from home…she won't actually be there." Dean pointed out.
"I know…" Sam admitted. "But her family should be able to give us information—like how frequently she kept disappearing, how she acted right before she ran away…stuff like that. It's a start, anyway." He looked down at the backpack propped up next to him on the seat. Dean had insisted that he keep it with him at all times—so that he'd be fully equipped if it happened again. It was packed with a few choice guns, some knives, first-aid supplies, a couple candy bars, a heavy duty flashlight and some extra batteries.
The boys paid for their breakfast and then got back in the Impala. As the car sped down the highway Sam felt himself drifting off to sleep. He had been up researching all night, and was exhausted from what he had been through. He must have fallen asleep, because when he woke up they were at a gas station and Dean was standing outside the car pumping gas. Sam sat up straight and yawned. The clock on the dashboard said that it was after three o'clock, which meant that he had been sleeping for almost six hours.
Dean opened the car door and looked at him. "Hey sleeping beauty, glad to see you're finally awake!" he said, grinning.
Sam ran a hand over his face. "I can't believe I actually fell asleep…"
"Yeah, I couldn't believe it either—not a single nightmare, from the look of it." Dean said, grinning. "I couldn't bring myself to wake you." He paused, looking suddenly unsure of what he was doing, and his eyes drifted over to the left.
Sam followed his gaze and then shook his head, amused, "Walk over to the building and pay for the gas, Dean."
Dean opened his mouth and then shut it again. "You could come—"
"Dean." Sam said firmly. "I'm fine, okay? It'll only take you a couple minutes to pay for the gas—I'll still be here when you get back."
"Right." Dean said quickly. "I know that." He hesitated for a few seconds and then turned and strode toward the building. Sam watched him go for a moment, and then leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes again.
A stabbing pain shot through his head without warning, causing him to cry out. His eyes shot open, and he clutched his head in his head in his hands in agony. "N-no…" he croaked. The pain kept jolting through him as he struggled to stay conscious—he couldn't think, couldn't see—
The pain stopped as suddenly as it had come, leaving Sam gasping for breath. His eyes shot open, terrified—
Darkness…it was night again. Sam swore and then hurriedly dug through the backpack that had luckily been hooked around his arm until he found the flashlight. He turned it on and looked around. He was still sitting in the Impala…the shell of the Impala. The seats were all torn and decayed, every window was shattered, and the entire car was covered with rust. "Not again…" Sam moaned angrily. He pointed the beam of light out the window and saw that the entire gas station looked like it had been abandoned for years and years. Rusted abandoned cars were sitting in weird angles all around him, all the windows of the building had been shattered, and tall grass was growing up through the spiderweb of cracks in the pavement. "Great…just great…" he said darkly.
He reached for the door handle, pushed on it—
—and the door fell off its hinges and clattered deafeningly to the ground. Sam cringed and gritted his teeth, hoping against hope that nothing had heard the noise. He quickly took a gun out of his pack, shoved it in his jeans, and slung the pack over his shoulder before stepping out of the car and onto the concrete.
He shined his flashlight all around, trying to decide which direction was the best way to go, but the thick fog was back and he couldn't see anything outside the perimeter of the gas station. Suddenly, Sam heard a slow, uneven sound of footsteps coming towards him—
He spun around and pointed the flashlight in the direction he had heard the noise, squinting hard to see through the fog. A figure began to emerge slowly, walking unsteadily as though it might fall at any moment. As it came closer Sam realized that it looked like a person.
"Hey!" Sam cried softly. "Hey, are you alright?"
The figure didn't answer, and just kept treading forward at the same uneven pace. After a few moments it came completely out of the fog—
Sam let out a strangled gasp and pointed his gun straight at it—it wasn't a person.
Aside from its general shape, the monster was anything but human. Its skin was grey and decaying; he could see every single vein and bone in its body. Its legs were broken and pointed inward at the knee, causing the monster to lunge forward unevenly instead of walking. Its skin stretched tightly over its head, which was a blank slate void of any facial features save for a large gaping mouth. The creature seemed to be struggling to move its arms—which were trapped in a crossed position under its skin.
Sam fired a bullet at the creature, hitting the center of its forehead—but it kept walking towards him as though nothing had happened. "You've got to be kidding me…" Sam whispered. Suddenly the monster made a sickeningly loud gasping noise and projected a spray of liquid from its mouth--hitting Sam in the center of his chest with a splatter. As soon as the liquid hit the material of his jacket it hissed and started smoking—
Acid.
"Shit!" Sam yelled, hurriedly pulling off his jacket and throwing the burning material away from him. As the monster took in another deep breath Sam spun around and ran in the opposite direction, his sneakers pounding against the pavement. He heard another stream of acid shoot through the air behind him, missing him by inches.
He kept running, surrounded by fog that was so thick that even with the flashlight he could barely see a few yards in each direction. After several long minutes Sam slowed to a walk, breathing hard. He turned and looked behind him, listening intently for the sound of footsteps.
Nothing.
He turned back around and continued walking forward. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, but at least when he was moving he had a sense of purpose.
Suddenly the high pitched sound of a woman's scream filled the air. Sam turned and stared towards his left, listening. It happened again, accompanied with gunfire, and Sam took off running toward the sound. After a few seconds he came upon a very old and run down shopping mall.
The screams had stopped, but Sam was still anxious to find whoever had needed help. He walked over to the first door he saw and pulled on the handle—it was unlocked, and he stepped into the mall.
He was in some kind of department store. Racks of clothes and shelves of untouched merchandise were set up all around him, and slowly he made his way down the aisle into the center of the store.
As Sam turned the corner he suddenly heard footsteps behind him. He spun around quickly and raised his gun—
"Sam, don't shoot!"
Sam sighed in relief and lowered his gun. "Leandra." He studied her, noticing that she was covered in blood and grime, a gun held loosely at her side.
Without warning, Leandra ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Oh thank God…" she whispered. "I thought you were dead."
"I'm fine." Sam assured her, and she pulled away slowly. "Were you screaming a few minutes ago?" he questioned.
Leandra sighed and nodded. "Yeah. This…this…thing jumped out at me and pinned me against a wall—I managed to kill it though." She shook her head tiredly. "I didn't even hear it coming…I guess that's what happens when you don't sleep for days, you don't notice things..."
"How long have you been here?"
She shrugged, running a hand through her blond hair. "In freak world? About five hours...after you disappeared I managed to climb out of the shaft, but by the time I got back into the real world you had already left the hotel."
Sam nodded. "Yeah…my brother and I decided to go to your parents' house."
"I figured as much. That's where I was headed too—to intercept you there—but here I am instead, battling monsters." She rolled her eyes and looked down, not even trying to conceal the bitterness in her voice.
"Well, at least we're in the same place." Sam said. "It's always good to have backup."
"Yeah." Leandra said, a small grin creeping across her face. She turned and looked around, her eyes scanning the store. "So, backup buddy…where would you put the juniors department?"
Sam blinked, "The what?"
Leandra's smile widened and she placed her hands firmly on her hips and raised an eyebrow at him playfully. "Sam, I have been wearing these clothes for about four days. They're shredded and covered in blood...mine and who knows what else's, and even though I'm stuck fighting monsters I don't have to look like one."
"O-kay." Sam said, looking around hopelessly. "Uhh…"
"Nevermind. Just stay close." She said, and started walking away down an aisle. When they found the department, Sam watched her as she quickly picked out a few shirts and a couple pairs of jeans. She turned to look at him. "Okay, something here is bound to fit. Did you happen to see a dressing room?"
"Uh…no…"
"There it is." She said, walking over towards it.
"I'll—I'll just wait out here." Sam said nervously.
She laughed and shut the door behind her. "You're sweet, you know that?" she said through the door.
Sam blushed and didn't respond. A few minutes later she came out, wearing a clean pair of jeans and a purple t-shirt. "That's much better." She said, looking around cautiously. "So…did you hear anything while I was in there?"
"Nope."
"Good…so where to now?"
"Well—"
A blood curdling scream interrupted him.
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