Angel Of Misery - A Supernatural fanfiction [PART ONE] [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5: Help

The younger man rushed to her. He didn't even bother to ask if she was alright. He already knew the answer. He untied her bonds, yet Lizbeth stayed in her chair, motionless except for the tears streaming down her cheeks. "It's okay..." The man whispered. More tears came, and he grabbed a rag off of the counter to wipe them away.
"What's your name?" He rummaged through a bag that his father had given him.
"L-Lizbeth." She replied shakily, her voice barely a whisper.
"Alright, Beth. I'm Dean. That's my dad." He motioned to the man behind him, "We're going to help you."
Within minutes, his father, John, had taken her suitcase to their car, a 1967 Chevy Impala. Lizbeth would have been in awe of it, if she hadn't been so traumatized. Dean had picked her up, as she was too shaky to walk, and carried her to the car. She sat in the backseat with him, while he carefully tended to her wounds.
"A few of these might need stitches..." He told her, while pouring some alcohol into a particularly deep cut near her collarbone. She hissed, and Dean pursed his lips. "Sorry, Beth." He said, taking out a roll of bandages. He dug around in his bag. Pulling out some pain relievers and a beer, he handed them to her.
Beth stared at him.
"I know, I know. You're underage, but it's all we have to drink."
Lizbeth gingerly swallowed two pills, and downed it with a small swig of beer. She gagged at the taste, and Dean wrapped a layer of bandages around her arms.
He then told her to look away, and that "this was going to hurt".
What he didn't tell her was that he was going to stitch up a few of her wounds. The moment the needle pierced her skin, she screamed and dug her nails into his shoulder. John was obviously annoyed by this, but didn't say anything. She had been through a lot, after all.
Dean worked as quick as he could, and half an hour later, he was done. And Lizbeth was in tears once more.
"Do you have any parents? Relatives you can go to?" Dean asked.
"No. My parents died in a car crash years ago. Danny takes-" she stopped herself, letting out a harsh sob, "-took care of me."
"You hungry?" John asked. Lizbeth didn't feel hungry, but she answered anyway. "Yes." 
They pulled over at a random gas station. It was night now, the world outside the windows dark except for the streetlights.
Lizbeth was told to lie down in the backseat while they went in to get the food. Dean leaned into the window when he was out, and asked, "Hey, you allergic to anything?"
"No." Lizbeth gingerly replied, laying down in the back seat. Dean and John walked into the gas station, leaving Lizbeth alone with her thoughts.