Stand in the Rain (Dean Winchester story)

Chapter 1

A/n: Liz is hard of hearing and so sign language will be used throughout the story. Any italics that are not connected to regular font is ASL. Sorry if it gets a little confusing at times, but I'm HoH myself and I never find stories from deaf or HoH perspective. I do think it's fun to write it for others looking for it. Also this is the first Supernatural fic that I've ever done so please go easy with me on your hate comments. Lastly, most of the time I write on my phone, so I'm sorry for any errors or weird sentences that make the final cut. That is all, enjoy!

"Mom, Dad?" I call down the stairs. "I felt a crash from the kitchen, is that you?"
"Oh, little Lizzy, you're so cute when you're worried." A deep voice says from behind me. I slowly turn around expecting my father to try and jump scare me. Only his statement about me being worried has made me more nervous. Instead of his kinds eyes that sparkle with mischief, go completely black, as if they were made of onyx.
I scream, and rush down the stairs away from my father.
"You don't look so good, you okay?" I slowly step towards the garage door.
"We've never been better. Your parents make for some very nice meat suits, I know that I'll try and keep this one as long as I can." My mom grins as she come around the corner of the kitchen I felt the crash come from. I give a small yelp when her eyes change with a flash likes my father's did.
My right hand falls behind me as I quietly try to twist the door handle. My parents speak with a purring voice I had never heard them use. I block them out and focus on discreetly opening the door. When the handle has turned all of the way, I leap forward just enough to let it open for me to escape.
I do the only thing I know how to at the moment, I run. 'God please don't kill me, don't make me fight you, don't do anything to anyone please!' I think to myself.
My parents, or whoever they are wearing my parents run after me, from the quick glance I could afford, it looks like they're twenty feet behind me. I see a parked car across the street. It's long, black, and it looks like two men are sitting in the front seat. 'Maybe they can help me.' I huff in my head.
I scram to the headlights of the Chevy and pound on the hood of the car. Two men start starting at me for a moment. The one in the passenger's seat is larger than the other, with brown hair that almost touches his shoulders, a flannel shirt and a troubled look on his face as he turns around to see what at I'm running from.
He harshly taps the driver. The driver is smaller than the other man, but it's without a doubt still large and he looks strong. His hair is short, a blondish-brown color, when he rushes out of the car I see he is wearing jeans, a black shirt and a red unbuttoned, button-down shirt.
I shake in fear on the car hood, waiting to know what's going on. The two men easily grab at my fake parents and pin them to the ground. Out of nowhere, they both have machetes in their hands, and they both swing at my parents throats. I feel a scream trying to brake it's way out and through my own throat. It wins the battle over control my vocal cords.
When my mother's head hits the ground, I fall to my knees and watch bodies fall to the road, almost as if the world was moving on slow motion.
"NO!" I yell to the limbs. I run towards my fallen parents but I'm stopped by a wall of muscle and black material. Arms wrap around me, as a deep voice tries to clam me down. A hand cradles my head toward the man's chest as he shushes me quietly.
"It's okay, it's okay. You're okay, it's all okay." The voice tells me. My lungs seize as I lost control over my harsh breathing, but the arms around me still hold me tightly, waiting for new to grab a hold of myself.
Tears fill my eyes as I pull away, with my hand tight around my necklace, and start to breath like a normal person again. "I'm okay, it's okay, it's okay." I repeat over and over to myself more than anyone else.
"That's good, getting better there. What's your name?" The tall, but short man asks me.
'My name, he wants my name.' I say in my head. 'God I need to work on not talking to myself so much.'
"L-Liz" I stutter. "My name is Liz, but people call me Lizzy."
"Lizzy, I'm Dean, and this is my kid brother Sam. Can you try and tell us who those people were?" Dean looks at me softly.
"M-my parents " I answer.
"How old are you?" Sam pitches in.
"Twenty-eight."
"Do you know of there's anyone you can go to?" He follows up. I shake my head and stare at my father's headless body. My head starts to feel light, and the rest of me use either dizzy or ready to throw up or both.
"Lizzy?" Dean comes closer  "You okay? You're white as a sheet." His voice fades more than usual. I can't think straight. In less than a minute, I'm melting on the road with with heavy eyes, my knees give out. Dean picks me up and carries me to the backseat of his car. I fall unconscious in a matter of seconds.