Hey everyone! This is my first fanfiction. Thanks for checking it out and please leave a comment.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Supernatural characters!
I did, however create Georgianna/Georgie!
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Chapter 1
I did it. I got through one day of school. I may not have been paying attention to anything at all, not even my best friend Curtis trying to pull me back to reality, but I did it. I was proud of myself for even getting out of bed this morning, not everyone can handle through their mom dying much less being murdered right in front of you.
My situation is different though. No one knows what happened, not even Curtis. Not the neighbors, my teachers, no one. My mom was murdered and no one even knows except me. I didn't want anyone to know. I was afraid of the change, of how everyone would react how I would react. I didn't want to go through mourning, I just wanted everything to be like it was before. Before my life became living hell.
That night I had come home at 6:00 after seeing a movie with Curtis after school. He had dropped me off and given me hug telling me he'd see me in the morning, he never did. I walked into the house expecting to find what I normally did after a long day. My mom on the couch watching tv and sipping a glass of wine. Instead what I saw was an image I will never forget.
A man had his back to me, my mom was facing the man, angry. I couldn't guess why. Until I heard the man say my name.
"Just give me Georgianna, and you'll live. I won't hurt her. I just need her to come with me."
"Why the hell would I ever just let you take my daughter?" my mom angrily asks
"If you don't I will kill you and hurt her. If you do I won't kill you, won't hurt her, but still you'll never see her again."
"You're lying. Either way you're going to hurt her." My mom says
I see her reaching behind her. She slowly slides a pistol from the waistband of her pants.
Where did she get that? I ask myself.
"Eh eh eh," says the man. "He reaches a hand out and my mom fell to the floor in a heap. Dead. That man...that thing killed my mother.
I just stood there motionless not saying anything. Not making a sound. Not even crying.
My heart feels like it's flying a million miles per second, but is also stopped. I can't breathe. Still I don't make a noise.
That's when I finally react. I scream. I scream so loud that I am afraid of myself. I think there is no way that noise came from me. But it did, and I can't stop. I scream and I cry and I choke on my own words.
The man turns around seeing me a has a sinister smile on his face.
"I'll be back Georgianna, wait for me will you?"
The man touches my cheek with the tip of his finger before vanishing. With him my mom's body disappear as well.
My first instinct is to call Curtis or the cops, but it seems that my body is not attached to my brain. Instead I sit on the couch and stare at the wall in front of me. It's as if I'm not here in the world. My life is gone. My mind keeps going back to the man. The man with yellow eyes.
I jerk back to my hazy reality. I forgot I was at school. Just leaving actually. Curtis stopped trying to talk to me. Instead he got into his car and left, mentioning something about calling me. I only nodded. To be honest I was surprised Curtis hasn't tried calling my mom to see if she knew what was wrong.
I started to walk home. I took the same path everyday. Walk down the sidewalk for five minutes, over the bridge and into a sub. I walk through that sub and out the other side. My house is on that road. I've taken to memorizing things since the murder. To take my mind off of it. Anything to distract me. Word searches, Puzzles, crosswords, anything.
As I'm walking down the sidewalk I get the feeling someone is watching me. I shake it off as anxiety.
As soon as I get home I am slammed up against the door. I barely have time to scream before a hand covers my mouth.
"I told you I'd come back. Did you miss me?"
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it. I know he can too when he laughs.
"Awe, don't be scared Georgie. I'm not going to kill you. I need you." He says.
"Now don't scream or I will hurt you. Do you understand?"
I nod. He takes his hand away from my mouth. I taste blood and that's when I realize how hard he slammed me against the door. My head is throbbing and I feel blood trickling down the nape of my neck.
"Why do you need me?" I ask. The sound of my own voice sounds strange. I haven't talked in at least three days.
"Can't tell you that just yet my dear, but in time. You'll find out. Now come with me." He says and latches onto my upper arm.
I pull away.
"I don't want to come with you! You killed my parents you son of a bitch!" I rarely swore and the curse word sounded odd coming from my lips.
"Feisty. I like it. You have to come with me though, It's for your own good." He says to me, his yellow eyes flashing.
"I am not coming with you." I say again. My voice barely above a whisper.
Before I can react I am being dragged across the floor by my hair. I scream, but am quickly cut of by a kick to my ribs. I gasp for breath.
"You will come with me now." he says.
A knife is taken from his back pocket and he slides it up my leg. Barely touching me. I try jerking away, but he hold me in place by my hair. The knife cuts in deep to my thigh sliding up to where my skin ends and my shorts start. I cry out in pain and flail my arms hoping to stop him from hurting me farthur.
Suddenly a gunshot rings out, and I get dropped my head hitting the ground. I try sitting up. My eyes are not focusing and my head throbs. Not to mention my leg feels like it's on fire. I just want to know who shot that gun. It takes me a moment before I realize I am looking straight at somebody. A man with kind brown eyes and shaggy brown hair.
"Hey, you're going to be ok. Can you tell me your name?"
My eyes finally focus and I can somewhat concentrate.
"Georgianna." I say. My mouth is dry, and my throat aches from screaming.
"Dean, she has a concussion, a bad one. I think we need to take her to the hospital."
That's when I notice there is another man. The one who shot the gun. He is standing up a little to the side of me where I am sitting down with the other man squatting in front of me.
"We can't. The demon could show up there. We can't risk it, she's just gonna have to heal on her own." The man named Dean says.
"D-did you say Demon?" I ask.
Dean looks at me sympathetically.
"Yep, I sure did, and a damn bastard of a demon at that."
I shake my head trying to make sense of this whole situation. Obviously doing that was not smart because I promptly threw up all over the floor next to me.
"She really needs to rest Dean."
"Alright get her up, Sam. We'll take her back to the motel until we figure out what's going on."
Sam put his hands under my arms and lifted me to my feet. As soon as I put weight on my leg I cried out.
"I h-hurt my leg. That demon cut it." I stutter as tears roll down my face.
"Let me see," Dean says and walks over to the other side of me to examine my leg.
He let's out a low whistle. "Damn. He got you good. That's going to need stitches."
"Rip of the sleeve of my shirt and tie it around her leg for now." Sam says.
Dean does as he says. Easily ripping the sleeve of Sam's flannel shirt. He ties it around my leg. I hiss when the fabric touches the cut.
"Wait, I can't go with you. I don't know you and how am I supposed to know you aren't going to give me to that demon." I ask when I realize that the men were going to take me with them. My concussion is making me a bit slow.
"You know that we won't give you to the demon because we're trying to kill it." Dean says matter of factly.
I can't argue with that, and besides my head hurts so bad that I don't want to think anymore. I just want to go to sleep. Sam lifts me up into his arms carrying me out the door towards their car.
"Cool car." I murmur as my eyes start to droop.
"Hey, hey you can't fall asleep." Sam says to me looking down.
"But I'm tired."
"I know, but it's not good for you to fall asleep with a concussion. Just try and stay awake a little longer." He says.
Dean opens the back car door and Sam slides in with me still in his arms he sits me down so I'm leaning against his shoulder
"I'm going to ride back here to make sure she doesn't fall asleep." He says.
"Alright, make sure that bandage is tight on her leg." Dean says before sliding into the driver's seat.
I almost fall asleep a few times, but each time Sam pats my good leg and tells me to stay awake.
It seems like we've been driving for hours when in reality it's been about ten minutes. We pull up into the parking lot of an old motel. Sam slides out first and I scooch to the edge of the car so he can carry me inside.
As soon as we are in the room Sam lays me on the bed and starts digging through a bag.
"Here," says handing me two pills, "take these for your head."
I take the pills along with a cup of water Dean hands me.
"We need to stitch that up," Dean says gesturing to the cut on my leg which has now bled through the makeshift bandage.
In a few minutes both the boys are set up next to me with all the supplies they need.
Dean starts cleaning the wound as Sam threads a needle. A searing pain shoots up my leg. I scream.
"Sorry sweetheart. I gotta clean this or it's gonna get infected in no time." Dean says.
I look over and see that Dean has poured whiskey on my leg. He is now putting some kind of ointment on it.
"Sammy, you're gonna need to hold her down while I stitch her up." Dean says.
A nervous flutter makes it's way through me.
"Here," Dean says handing me the whiskey, "This'll help with the pain."
I take it from him.
"I'm underage." I say.
They both laugh.
"Doesn't matter," says Sam, "We won't tell."
I manage to smile a little before tipping the bottle up.
I scrunch my nose and cough.
"That's awful!" I say.
Dean laughs and Sam shakes his head with a smile.
"You get used to it," Dean says, "It's an acquired taste."
"Yeah, and Dean definitely has acquired it." Sam teases.
"Alright, let's get this over with." Dean says, back to all business.
Sam leans over me pressing one hand into my arm and the other on my stomach. His knee is pressed into my other leg.
"Look at me." He say, "Just focus on my voice."
I do as he says.
The needle goes through. My body tries to rebel, but Sam holds me down.
I try to listen to Sam's words, but the pain is too distracting. Eventually he just stops talking.
Finally Dean finishes.
"Twenty stitches, good job kiddo. You didn't do too bad." He says chucking me under the chin as he walks over to wash his hands.
"I'm exhausted." I say.
Sam smiles, "The medicine should have kicked in by now. You can go to sleep."
Hearing this I close my eyes and I'm soon asleep.