The Fight For Her Life
Chapter One
Lizzie sat in the backseat of her friend Dean Winchester's 1967 Chevolet Impala, gazing dreamily out the window. It was late afternoon and the sun hung low in the sky, its rays shining off Lizzie's dark red hair, giving it the illusion that it was glowing. Lizzie yawned. They had been driving for the entire day, and by now, she was absolutely exhausted and couldn't way till they stopped at a hotel or motel for the night so she could get some rest.
Dean's younger brother Sam, had been dating Lizzie for a little over six months now, and he loved her more than anything. He gazed at Lizzie through the rearview mirror smiling lovingly as he reached behind his seat, and held his girlfriend's hand, and gave it a light squeeze. "You getting tired, Lizzie?" he asked gently. Lizzie nodded as she failed to stifle a huge yawn.
Dean smiled through the rearview mirror. "We'll stop somewhere soon,'' he promised her. Lizzie nodded, yawning, again, and continuing to stare out the window.
Lizzie was breathtakingly beautiful in appearance with long dark red hair, a slim figure, pale skin, eyes the color of molten gold, and wore square framed glasses, making her look intelligent. She was intelligent! She claimed to have an eidetic memory, and an IQ of over 160. She was also very skilled with computers. Because of this, she was in charge of doing all the research when she went on a hunt with Sam and Dean.
She also took her religious beliefs very, very seriously. Lizzie was raised a Christian, and when she began dating Sam, she told him that unless he intended to marry her, she refused to have sex with him, because that was just how she felt. Thankfully, Sam was very understanding, and told her that he could respect her views.
Dean turned on the turning signal on the Impala's dash and turned into a motel parking lot, taking the first available parking spot he saw, and turned off the ignition. Lizzie put her iPod and headphones back in her purse, stretched and got out of the backseat, and helped Sam unload their luggage from the trunk. Lizzie took out her suitcase, and her laptop, and put the strap around the handle of her roller suitcase, before helping Sam unload his things, and Dean went to book them a room.
Lizzie stretched again and cracked her back. "Ooh! I'm beat!" she yawned. Sam smiled. "Yeah, sounds like it," he said laughing slightly, as they made their way into the hotel lobby where Dean was standing at the front desk, still trying to get a room.
The man behind the desk was elderly – mid-eighties by the look of him, with thin, graying hair, prominent wrinkles and liver spots all over his face and knotted hands; when he caught Lizzie's eye, he smiled creepily at her, showing rotting teeth, making the hair on the back of Lizzie's head stand on end. The man also had a golden tooth in place of one of his front teeth.
"Here, ya go, sonny,'' said the man, handing Dean three room keys with a shaky hand as well as a jar filled with a strange liquid. "What's this?" asked Dean, holding up the jar. "Moonshine,'' the man behind the counter replied. "Made it myself,"
Dean smiled feebly. "Thanks,'' he said, as he took the three room keys, and Sam and Dean followed him to their room (Room 217).
The inside the room was no different than the other seedy motels that they had stayed in in the past. The walls were painted a faded avocado green color, the curtains were moth-eaten, and dusty. The bedspreads on the two queen-sized beds were the same hideous green color as the walls. The carpets were a boring gray color, and little puffs of dust rose into the air when Lizzie, Sam, and Dean walked across it.
Despite the crappy-ness of the motel room, Lizzie couldn't help but think I've been in worse.
Lizzie sighed heavily as she set her suitcase and laptop case onto the dresser, and began to unpack. Sam and Dean however didn't begin to unpack completely. Dean took out a container of salt, and began to line the windows, and door with it.
When he was done, Lizzie had already finished completely unpacking her suitcase.
"That was fast," Dean remarked, noticing the speed in which Lizzie unpacked. Lizzie smiled and shrugged. Dean hadn't known Lizzie for very long, and yet, she never ceased to amaze him. She was one of the most unique individuals he and Sam had ever met.
Lizzie went inside the bathroom to brush her hair, just as Dean suggested they get something to eat. Lizzie nodded gratefully as her stomach growled loudly.
Sam smiled and giggled softly, as Lizzie collected her purse and jacket before following Sam and Dean out the door.
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They stopped at a Chinese bar and grill fifteen minutes later. For then entire trip to the restaurant, Lizzie had her headphones in her ears, and listened to her iPod, until Dean pulled the Impala in the parking lot.
Lizzie took her headphones out of her ears, and put them along with her iPod in her purse as she got out of the car, and walked into the restaurant holding Sam's hand.
They sat down, and ordered their food. In the time it took for their meals to arrive, Lizzie and Sam became immersed in a conversation regarding the creature they were hunting – a boggart; a shapeshifter that transforms itself into your worst fear. Lizzie had come into contact with boggarts before, while she was being educated at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and knew quite a bit about them. "What really finishes them is laughter,'' Lizzie explained to Sam, who was looking incredibly interested in what his girlfriend was saying.
"You need to force it to assume a shape that you find amusing,'' said Lizzie. "What's your worst fear?" asked Sam. Lizzie was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then – "Snakes,'' she said while shuddering.
Sam smiled but was interrupted by the arrival of their food. As Lizzie's plate was set in front of her, she looked down at it. She had ordered orange chicken, white rice, and two spring rolls – one of her absolute favorite meals. She began to drown her rice in soy sauce, picked up her fork, and began shoveling her food into her mouth. She was ravenous! Sam looked up from his plate, and raised his eyebrow as Lizzie. "Slow down, Liz!" he said, while laughing slightly. "You'll get a stomachache if you swallow it like that.''
Lizzie swallowed a mouthful of orange chicken and nodded, showing she understood, and began slowing the pace in which she was eating.
For the remainder of the meal, they didn't talk much. Occasionally Sam would smile or wink at Lizzie and she would respond by smiling back.
Perhaps it was due to the long journey in the Impala that Lizzie wasn't up for much conversation. On a normal day, Lizzie was a chatterbox! But understandably, this wasn't one of those days.
After about an hour, Sam paid the check and they left the diner. Lizzie continuing to yawn occasionally.
She got into the Impala, and took out her headphones and iPod, and turned on her music again as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and made the way back to the motel.
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Lizzie would loved to have just crashed on the floor when they got back to the motel room, but she reminded herself that she still had to take her evening medications before bed (Lizzie had chronic insomnia, and took medication to help her sleep). She walked over to her suitcase and took out her pajamas – black silk with red piping on the neckline, arm and leg cuffs.
Once she was dressed, Sam gave her her medication, and she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Sam had taken down some blankets, and pillows from the closet, and arranged them in a little 'nest' on the floor for Lizzie to sleep in. Lizzie didn't mind sleeping on the floor rather than in a bed. This had been the arrangement since the day she met Sam and Dean.
Lizzie emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, and clambered into the nest on the floor, and pulled the covers up to her chin. She fell asleep almost immediately.