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

Chapter 9: Childhood

One month later...
Lizbeth traced the scars on her face, neck, and arms. Throughout her entire body, she had just over twenty of them. Twenty painful reminders of that day when Danny died. She counted them every single day, as if one after one they would simply disappear and leave her free of all negative things. As if she would wake up in her old bed in her old apartment, to the sound of random music on the radio and the sweet smell of pancakes wafting in from the kitchen.
But, no.
She knew this wasn't a dream.
"Beth, you okay?" The sound of Bobby's voice woke her from her day dream.
"W-Wha? Yeah. I'm fine." She lied. Sam had told her that it would take her a while to get over, well, everything.
"Beth, you look like terrified." Bobby stated matter-of-factly, pushing a plate of cookies in her direction. He had learned that chocolate chip cookies were her favorite meal a week or two ago. He had bought a bag of chocolate chips not an hour after he found out, and made the recipe. Although he wasn't exactly soft, he was going to try to make her feel better. Who wouldn't? He could hear her crying almost every night, and during the day she would zone out and come back to the real world while edging into panic.
So, in other words, to sum it up, she needed help.
Lizbeth took a cookie off of the plate, and ate it in two bites, not caring that it burnt her mouth. They had been heated up, and the chocolate was warm and gooey.
Absolutely perfect.

Three months later...
Dean handed her a book.
Yes, a book.
And no, it wasn't a book on how to hack monsters into sauce or how to exorcise a demon, despite that was what John wanted her to learn. No, it was a mystery novel.
For today was Lizbeth's birthday.
John had completely forgotten, of course, and was still off hunting some werewolf in God-knows-where, so Sam, Dean, and Beth were at Bobby's.
Bobby had given both the boys some cash and unleashed them in one of those 'we sell everything ever made' supermarkets, and instructed  them to buy something for Beth's birthday. Although her PTSD had remained, and she was still quite shaken, she was getting better.
Bobby bought a minimum amount of decorations, and within ten minutes the two boys had came back with the presents. Dean had bought her a mystery/romance novel, one that she had occasionally said was her favorite book. Sam had gotten her a simple black choker, which he had noticed her admiring a little while back.
And now, Lizbeth was hugging them both, and everything was okay.

Nine months later...
"Sammy's sick again." Dean said while pressing a cold, damp rag to Sam's forehead. He was approaching a fever, and was feeling horrid.
"Do we have enough money for medicine...?" Lizbeth asked hopefully.
Dean counted their dwindling supply of cash again, "... Not unless we want to survive off of dirt and mud."
"Damn!" Lizbeth cursed. They had to keep the cost of the hotel in mind. John had taken a little longer then expected. They couldn't loose the room, and they could afford both shelter and food, but not medicine.
"I'll get it."
"Beth!" Dean protested. Was she really going to loose all of their money? He wanted to just throw all of their money at her and tell her to get the medicine, but they seriously needed that money. It would look suspicious and someone would notice if he went into a gas station every day, but came out with nothing and his jacket looking much bulkier than it had been before.
"Just give me a  minute..." Lizbeth said, stepping into the bathroom. She changed into a tattered grey dress that was about two sizes too big, and had holes everywhere. Handfuls of dirt were then rubbed into her hair and skin, along with her clothes. She finally grabbed some random sticky liquid and used it to make her hair look as if she hadn't brushed it in days.
"Dean, give me your shoes." She stayed firmly. He handed them over, asking "Why?"
"You want medicine? I'll get you medicine."
It took her half an hour to get to the local pharmacy. The moment she walked inside, the pharmacists swarmed around her.
"Sweetie, are you okay?"
"Are you alright?"
"Do you need help?"
Lizbeth let out a belt of forced coughs. "I- I think I have the f-flu. Can I have some cold medicine?" She wheezed. In moments, two small bottles were forced into her hand. She pulled out a few dollars of wadded bills, and gave a sad groan. "O-Oh. I can't p-pay."
But a woman was already slipping some money into the cash register. "Don't worry. I'll pay for it." She said kindly. And before any of them could ask anymore questions, she had pocketed the medicine and scampered into the shadows, where no one could follow her.

Three months later...
"Sam!" Lizbeth cried, rushing to her brother. They were on a college campus. Stanford, actually. It was just after midnight, and rain was pouring down over both of them. "Beth? How'd you find me?" He asked, giving her a tight embrace. "I hacked your credit cards." Sam smiled. His sister did have a talent for hacking, he'd have to give her that.
"How's Dean?" Sam asked.
"He misses you." Beth stated bluntly.
Sam sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm not coming back. I... I just can't."
Lizbeth wiggled out of his arms. "Bro, no matter what you do, I don't care. Just do one thing for me."
"What?"
She leaned in and whispered, "Prove Dad wrong."
She stayed with him that night, as it was raining far too hard to drive back safely, and Dean and John were at least five hours away. Sam had made her some ramen, and given her a beer, as she had now grown to become rather fond of them. Beth met Jess in the morning, and they became friends. And every now and then, Lizbeth would go back to that college to check up on them. It was nice. That was, until a few months later.

Ten months later...
Sam woke up with a start. He recognized the sound of footsteps in his dorm immediately, though everything seemed to be submerged in shadow. Yet Sam saw something moving anyway, and with no warning, rushed up and tackled him.
Yet the figure fought back, and Sam ended up pinned to the floor.
"Heya, Sammy!"
"Dean?!"
Suddenly Beth merged out of the shadows, which seemed like her natural habitat, and took a beer from the fridge. "Hmm, you should get a new brand." She said, smiling and gesturing to the beer bottle. "Nice to see you, Sam."
A small yawn came from the doorway. "Beth?" Jessica yawned, rubbing her eyes and stretching, "You staying the night again?"
"Nah, we just need Sam for some family stuff." Lizbeth smiled.
"Whatever you're going to say, you can say it in front of us." Sam said bluntly, wrapping his arm around Jessica's shoulders. Dean sighed. "Dads on a hunting trip."
"So?" Sam scoffed.
"Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."
Sam gulped. "Jess, leave us please."
Little did Sam know that was the last time he would ever see Jessica again.

Three days later...
Sam was going to cry.
Jess was dead. Just like their mother. How could he have let this happen?
Beth and Dean were standing beside him as all the emotion left his face.
He slammed the trunk of the Impala.
"We've got work to do."