She wasn't running from home, because really? At her age? That was pretty pathetic in her opinion. You stayed and you dealt with it. Because it wasn't as if life was any better out there. The thought that she could head to the Winchester's was weighted, then dismissed. Then weighted, then dismissed Until finally she decided while that tended to be her "safe haven" whenever she'd just had an argument with her foster dad, it probably wouldn't be the smartest move. Especially with the mood she was currently in.
She and her foster father had another argument about her grades, and her future. The ones that made Kendra, yet again, feel that he only wanted her around for what she could give and get him. Because really? Why else had they never buckled down and adopted her. It was a really great feeling. Really. It was one that lead to attitudes and sass. Her storming out and that would be that. She had spare clothing at the Winchester's. She would stay the night and let Ruby convince her that going to school was a good idea. Later in the evening-of that next day-she would slink back in to the dirty looks of her younger foster sister and the worried, apologetic, ones of her foster mother. And she and her foster dad would walk around each other as if he hadn't just told her in twenty different ways that she would amount to nothing if she didn't skip around to his drum beat and that she hadn't, in return, told him in thirty different ways how to fuck himself.
Except that night was different. That night was different because her foster sister, for once, had stepped in and defended her. Which was stupid. Her foster dad wasn't physically abusive. Oh, no. He would never fall so low. He was perfect and controlling, domineering and demanding. So he used his looks and his words, and his power as man of the house to run a tip-top ship that Kendra had no desire to following orders in. He was a good man. This wasn't her making excuses. She didn't make them for anyone. He was just, also, an idiot who couldn't see how good he had it. They, she included, loved him but that could never, ever be enough.
Kendra had never seen him talk to his foster sister the way he had that night. Vee, her foster sister, wasn't the bravest girl. Far from it. And Kendra had just ... she didn't know. She didn't punch him. She wasn't that cliche and now, walking down the darkened street, she was glad that she didn't. She might have killed him. She shoved him. It wasn't supposed to be a huge shove but she shoved him and he'd stumbled back much further than he was supposed to. So close to knocking his head onto the marble coffee table. So close ... but no cigar.
To say that Kendra had freaked was an understatement. She didn't wait for recriminations or any of the such and had just yanked the door open in her urgency. Yanking it off it's hinges. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck?
Grabbing her bag from the hook by the door. Kendra had ran into the night, ignoring her foster mother's calls. Trying to clear her head of that voice that had just refused to shut up since the day Ruby had gone black-eyed.
Her running had trailed off into walking and Kendra was just minding her business when she'd heard a scream. A scream that for some reason she couldn't phatom she found herself running towards. It was strange, her brain was telling her body to stop but her feet kept on going. Only stopping at the oddest sight before her. And given what she'd seen and done the past few days, that was saying something.
A tiny blonde woman was shoving a guy twice her size up against a wall. Could one spell out the word weird?