Chapter X - Hallelujah

    Dean rolled over in his sleep.

The demons flew through his head, and Leila's screams rang throughout the scenes. Dean was caught, the screams went farther away with each step he took towards her. She got farther away, he yelled for her but his calls were drowned out. The demons swirled around her, descending upon the teenager. She screamed, Dean was frozen. The scene shifted, black smoke enveloping Dean as the setting changed. He looked around, he was in the hotel. He turned around and looked, Leila was standing there looking as innocent as ever. Her arm was bleeding and Dean became extremely aware of the cold metal that was pinched between his fingers. Leila's makeup streaked her cheeks, tears running down as she looked up from her arm to Dean.

"You did this," Dream Leila breathed, taking in a deep sigh.

"Kid, I didn't mean to," Dean said, dropping the razor. His lip trembled softly, bumps forming in his chin as his lip pouted slightly.

"It's okay, Dean," Leila said, closing her eyes softly. When she opened them, they were black all over. No iris, no sclera. Just pitch black, staring back at Dean, as if she were looking directly into his soul. Her lips curled into a smile. "She would have done it herself if you hadn't."

"You get out of her, you son of a bitch," Dean snapped, hands balling into fists at his sides.

Leila noticed immediately and smirked. "Go ahead, Dean. Do it. The girl would probably like it anyways."

Dean's jaw clenched, he swallowed hard. He unballed his fists and started chanting with a deathly calmness to his voice. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-" He began, eyes glaring daggers at the demon.

Leila thrust her hand out, sending Dean flying into the wall. The wind was knocked out of him as he collapsed onto the floor. Dean forced "No!" She shouted, cackling. "I'm not going so easily." She crafted a dagger out of thin air, plunging it into her stomach.

Leila yelled as smoke erupted from her when the demon shot out into the air. Dean ignored the escaping demon and shakily sprinted to the teenager, who now knelt holding her stomach. Leila's face was deathly pale, her hand stained bright red. Dean fell to his knees, pulling her close. He ripped his jacket off and pressed it to her stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. Leila made a small exclamation of pain, wincing as Dean pushed on the wound. Leila shook her head, taking his white-knuckled hand with her blood-stained one. Dean met her eyes, and she looked at him, hoping that it told the story.

"You can't give up." Dean whispered, a tear spilling over his left cheek. "I can fix this."

"You've done enough," Leila breathed, her voice raspy. Her eyes fluttered shut, and Dean could feel her go limp in his arms. Why did his nightmares always have to have a soundtrack including Cutting Crew?

Dean stirred in his sleep, yelling for Leila. He shot up from the bed, his eyes wide.   

Dean's breathing was unsteady, sweat beaded his forehead. His shirt was sticky against his back. His eyes scanned the room, and he remembered where he'd slept. Separated. Alone. Angry. He sighed, standing up and running his hands through his hair.  His shirt lifted up a little, exposing a small amount of his stomach. Nails dragged against his scalp, he sighed. He shouldn't have been so harsh. That never changed anything. Hell, his and Sam's worst fights were normally because one of them was too harsh. Breathing another sigh, Dean walked to the door and grasped the cold brass doorknob. He needed a beer, but he didn't want to wake Sam.    

It had to have been late, Dean had spent the longest time just sitting and collecting his thoughts, at some point he had fallen asleep. Dean looked around, shuffling his feet across the floor. He grabbed his jeans and took his phone out of the pocket. 12:30. Dean would have to be quiet if he wanted his beer. Dean pulled his pants on, tossing his phone onto his bed. He gripped the doorknob again and swiftly opened it, keeping quiet as he made a beeline to the fridge. The door swung open and Dean did his best to block out the light so as not to wake up Sam. The second he got into the room, he felt like something was out of place. It didn't feel like it had before. Dean raised the bottle to his lips, cool whiskey meeting his tongue. Uneasiness churned in his gut, pulling at his intestines.

Dean had felt that feeling before... he didn't like it one bit.   

*****   

August, 2000   

Dean stirred in his sleep, he could always tell when something was wrong. He jolted up, eyes scanning the room. There was nothing. He was the only living thing in that room. Damn it.    

"Sam?" Dean called, standing up. He gripped his shotgun in his hand, John had told him to hold onto it. Shoot first, ask questions later, he quoted in his head, raising the gun with both hands. "Sam?" He called again. Did calling for his brother count as a question?

Dean stalked through the hotel room quietly, shotgun loaded and ready to shoot. If Sam's brown hair wasn't the first thing he saw, he was shooting whatever he saw, nothing was getting into their room. First, he needed to find Sam, then he could make sure that everything was secure. Sam was no idiot, that Dean knew, but Dean was older and John had taught him more. Twenty one years old and he was still hunting with his dad and brother. Dean never imagined he'd stay there, but their dad had always seemed to need him. Sam was always the one that was able to leave the nest, and that's what worried Dean as he tip-toed through the room.   

"Sammy?" Dean repeated, still no answer.    

Through the hotel, and Dean still hadn't caught sight of Sam. He nervously double-checked everywhere. Sam was nowhere to be found, and John was going to kill Dean when he got back. Dean sighed, walking back to his chair, he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. Dean saw a small piece of folded white paper that Dean only would have noticed because he was standing in a certain spot. Dean walked over to it, picking it up as he replaced the note with his shotgun. He unfolded it carefully.   

"Dean," Dean read aloud, his eyes scanning the note. "I really wanted to go to school. Dad doesn't want me here, we both know that. So I'm getting out before any of this can get worse. Dad always loved you more, and I was just in the way. I hope I'll see you again, I'm graduating a year early. Applied to Stanford without Dad knowing, I'm still waiting for the answer. I really hope I get in, their law program is amazing. Love, Sam." Dean sighed, biting his lip. He tucked the note inside his flannel pocket. If their dad found that, Sam was done for. Dean couldn't let that happen. His little brother was safe with him no matter what.   

*****

Dean flinched, remembering what had happened when John had returned to the hotel that night. Dean always believed that am was worth it, but he hurt for weeks after John had come back. John had found the note in Dean's pocket. Dean had slipped up and John read the note and hauled Sam's butt back to the hotel. They never agreed after that, and Dean still tried to be the glue that held the ever fraying thread of John and Sam's relationship together.   

Sam.    

Dean knew something was wrong, he listened closely. There was only one set of breathing in the room, along with the faint buzz of the fridge. There was no snoring that Dean had heard the first day she stayed at their motel. Dean froze. He forced himself to turn, the bed was made. Nobody slept there. Why had he been so childish? Dean should have known that she'd take the first opportunity she had to leave. Dean's mind raced, where was she now? She was exactly like Sam when he wanted to go to school, but Leila had worse intentions in mind.   

"Sam!" Dean said, his tone urgent. Sam bolted upright.   

"Dean?" He asked drowsily, "What is it?" Dean could see his dark figure rub his eyes.   

"Sammy, she's gone. Get dressed." Dean said urgently, he flicked the lights on and Sam's eyes widened at the empty bed. Sam sat up and slid his shoes on.   

"Okay, relax," Sam said, pulling his boots on. "Maybe she's just having a shower or something."    

"We'd be able to hear it and you know it, Sam," Dean said, running his hands through his hair. "We gotta go find her, she can't do it..."   

"Dean, I'm all for trying to find her, but we don't even know where to look." Sam stood up to grab his jacket.   

Dean thought back to when Sam had left, "There's gotta be a note..." He mumbled, looking around. He had crazy eyes, but Sam knew that it was just Dean's worry dressing his eyes.

"A note?" Sam asked, stopping his hand from grabbing the car keys. "What are you talking about?"   

"There was a note last time. It was on the mirror. There's gotta be a note somewhere." Dean seemed like he was in a daze, he looked around the room for a piece of paper he expected was the same size as Sam's note. Dean stepped into his boots as Sam began looking; though he wasn't quite sure how well a note could hide. The two boys hunted high and low for the note, and Dean finally stopped moving. 

"Come on, Dean. We gotta get-" Sam paused when he saw that Dean held a piece of paper. The elder Winchester was seated on the floor, eyes darting back and forth quickly as he read. Sam walked over and was about to read over Dean's shoulder when the note was crumpled in Dean's hands

"Damn it!" Dean exclaimed, standing up. He threw the note and grabbed the keys, Sam could've sworn he'd seen a tear sliding down Dean's cheek. Dean grabbed his coat and opened the door, running out to the car. Sam grabbed the note off of the floor, uncrumpling it as he chased after Dean. Dean turned the engine on and the car purred. Sam had barely sat down in the passenger seat when Dean took off. He set off into the night with blazing speed.

"Dean, where are you going?!" Sam asked, flattening out the note on his thigh.

"I know where she is!" Dean said, never peeling his eyes from the road.

"This is insane, Dean!" Sam said, sneaking a look at his brother before looking at the crinkled note.

"I don't care, Sam!" Dean yelled, his voice shaking. "Even if I have the slightest shot at saving this kid, I gotta try!"

Sam read the note, hearing Dean yell at him. Sam knew that Leila's possible last words were what was making Dean act the way he was. Sam intended to find out why Dean was slowly starting to cry behind the wheel.

*****

Dear Sam and Dean,

I just wanted to let you know that I am so sorry for dragging your investigation down. I didn't want to be the one that screwed it over, but I guess that's what I do. I screw everything up. I know that you both did your best to make me feel like I was part of your 'team', but let's face it. Sam, Cas and Dean will always be the perfect group. There's really no need for a mentally ill teenage girl on that team, now is there? Doesn't seem like it. You guys will be amazing people, and already are in my mind.

I just want you to know, that this wasn't your fault, 'cause I feel you deserve to know. The way I see it, by me breathing, I'm just taking up oxygen that someone else needs. I would have ended up doing this whether I'd met you two or not. There is nothing on this earth, not even the Winchesters, that could make me believe I'm not a waste of space. I'm so sorry for wasting your time, I know that you'll never get it back. I just wish I had done it sooner, ended it so that I never had bothered either of you. Because I know I've caused trouble you didn't need in your lives.

Please, don't try and find me. I need to do this on my own. Where it all started. And boys, just remember that this is for the better. I'm going to heaven, because I've spent my time in hell. I'll watch over you guys, and when the time comes, I'll see you again. Come visit me, I'll be at some angel bar breaking drinking age laws there too. It'll be a good life after death. Hell, maybe when I see you guys again, we can get Cas to get us into some angel clubs or something.

Don't cry, Dean. Please don't. And don't blame yourself. Because I know you, and I know that's what you're doing right now as you're reading this. But, for me, just... don't, alright? I promise you it wasn't your fault. Also, I owe you an apology. You were only trying to help me by sending me to that hospital. I should have been more appreciative of that. I can see now why you thought it would help. You've done nothing wrong, and if you take something from this note I want you to take this: Never will this be your fault. Never will you be to blame for this. Never, ever, was this preventable, though you tried so hard. Do not ever believe that this is at all something that you could have fixed. Do not blame yourself, Dean Winchester, for if you do I swear I will come back from the dead and tell you myself.

And Sam, slap Dean for me when he blames himself for this. Even if I said it up there, he's not going to listen and is going to take this to heart. I know he is. That's the one last favour I ask of you. Please, just do this one last thing for me. Because I know I didn't talk to you, even though I promised. But you wouldn't have let me go, and I needed to. Same as your brother, this isn't your fault either. I wanted to let you know that. It's no one's fault.

I want you guys to know how much of an impact you made on my life, because if I can get this right, I should be gone before you guys try and hunt me down. Don't deny it, I know you won't listen to my other paragraph up there. You Winchesters always do the opposite of what people say, Castiel seemed to believe so too. You gave me a long time in the shortened life that I am bound to have. The Back to the Future, Queen and beer chats were among the best things I've experienced. You guys are truly extraordinary. I hope you know that. Absolute gems. I want you to know that you made such a difference, but my time has come.

Thank you both for everything. Have wonderful, long lives. Because you both deserve it.

Goodbye.

*****

A.N. One more chapter left, folks. One more. What will happen? What will unfold? Is Leila going to still be there when Sam and Dean show up? IS SHE GOING TO MAKE IT?! And the most important question; have I made you cry yet? ;)

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Until next time, hunters and warriors,   

-Thalia