Leo’s pale hands were shaking. He glanced up at the handwritten letter, printed slowly, carefully, and still somewhat messily, on a piece of notebook paper.
Just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for rescuing me. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for feeding me. Thank you for protecting me when many other hunters would have had my head. Thank you.
But…. I’ve noticed something. It’s like…. Like you’re getting tired of me. Tired of caring for me, feeding me. You’ve been so kind to me since you rescued me from the vampires nest, and I hate to cause you any kind of trouble. So that’s why I’m…. I’m leaving. By the time you read this, I’ll have been long gone.
I was nothing but a burden on you, the vampire abomination who can’t fight, who can barely read, who took forever to write this. That’s why I’m leaving. Don’t bother looking. I’m a liability.
Evelyn.... Thank you so much for being my friend. You're my best friend, and I love you. Thank you, thank you, thank you for everything you've done for me.
So…. Thank you, I guess. Thank you for all you’ve done from me. The last things I’ll ever ask from you are these: Tell Arthur I’m gone.Tell him to meet me in a week. He’ll know when, and he’ll know where.
Maybe we’ll run into each other, some way down the line. If we do… Please do one thing for me. If I’m not with Arthur, if he’s gone, if he’s dead, kill me. If I start killing people, hurting people, and he hasn’t already done it, kill me. My last request, I suppose.
After this, I suppose I’ll just carry on wherever the wind takes me. After all, I’ve got miles and miles of open road.
He folded it up, swallowing, and softly put in it an envelope. With a red pen beside him on the table, and slowly scrawled Winchesters across the front. He left the envelope sitting on the center of the table and moved beside it. In a chair was a backpack, a small one, filled with the few things he owned, including a ‘family portrait’ that had been taken. He swung it over one shoulder, and proceeded out the door. He closed it softly behind him.
The chilly wind whipped at him slightly as he strode into the cold winter morning, and he nibbled his lip. He had to go on. He didn’t look back. He'd caught wind of the fact that the vamps were probably on him thanks to another hunter. He didn't recall the name exactly, but it might have been something that started with a 'G'. It might have been something like Gordon, or a son of a Gordon. He'd heard the name once or twice, but didn't remember anything important about him.
He was about five miles down the road, five miles away from the only home he’d ever known with the sun barely, barely, peeking over the horizon, snowflakes beginning to fall, when he finally looked back.
