Chapter One

As she wrapped her arms around it's neck, she had a thought. It wasn't an uncommon notion, but nonetheless odd. One typically refrained from heavy thinking in the middle of a kill. At least, that was what Dean had always told her. "Keep your mind straight goddammit. Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he would snap in his usual gruff tones. She wasn't sure her older brother even knew how to be sensitive. He was far too manly for that.

"Liz! Fucking kill the little bastard already, we don't have all day!" shouted the brother she had been contemplating. She sighed and twisted the things' neck sideways. The head in her arms popped off with a sickening snap and she dropped it. It wasn't exactly her favorite method, but it was the easiest way to deal with the damn things. As a rule, she detested shapeshifters. They gave her the creepy crawlies, which was rather difficult to do. Her dad had trained her well. As she hefted the monster's body off of her boots, Dean chuckled. Liz rolled her eyes and looked at him for an explanation. He coughed and composed himself. "Sorry, it's just- it's just that-. Well you aren't very ladylike." he offered.

"That's hilarious Dean, I never would have guessed that. It completely slipped my mind. You must be a genius to notice that sort of concealed information." said his sister exasperatedly. Dean just laughed again, probably at himself. He thought he was funny. Liz wiped the blood of another shifter of her hands and began to walk towards the door of the warehouse. "You know Sam is gonna be majorly pissed when he realizes you ditched him, right?"

"You ditched him too, don't think that just because you came unwilling means a thing." he replied casually.

"It means everything Dean, are you even listening to yourself? You practically kidnapped me!"

"As if you'd let some stupid sonofabitch take you anywhere you didn't want to go without an injury."

"You just called yourself a sonofabitch." Liz pointed out. Dean shook his head and began to argue, but Liz had already opened the door and stepped into the darkness. He stared after her for a moment and then followed her out, shutting the door with a bang. When he walked up to his beloved car, he noticed that his little sister was sitting in the passenger seat, her eyes closed tightly and her hands curled into fists. He didn't say a word during the whole drive back to the cabin.

"Where the hell where you guys? I woke up and you were gone. No note, not a damn thing to tell me if you were okay. Dean! Answer me." ranted the remaining Winchester brother. Liz wasn't afraid of either of her siblings, but Sam was like a mother bear sometimes. Dean ignored him and kept pouring his glass of whiskey. Liz looked longingly at the bag of potato chips laying open on the counter top behind Sam. Her twin looked furious, so she decided to leave the chips for a later snack.

"Sam, I already told you where we were. There was a group of shifters and we took care of it. Don't worry a hair in that damn mop of yours. By the way, you could really use a haircut." Dean finally answered him. He sounded relaxed, almost lazy. Sam's face tightened. Liz thought to intervene, but she hated being caught in the crossfire.

"Don't talk to me about my hair, Dean. I'm so tired of you insulting me. I took a psychology course at Stanford, and the professor said that a hatred for tedious things proves a deep seeded hatred of one's own flaws. So really, you're just telling me that you hate yourself for not being perfect." Sam snapped back. Liz rolled her eyes. Sam had brought up Stanford, and that was going to piss Dean off. She wondered briefly why he never got onto her for leaving, but pushed it down. Dean was too complicated to worry about the little things.

"Oh Stanford! Precious college! Lemme tell you something Sammy-" Dean started. The brunette girl snatched the bag of chips and sat down on the bed she and Sam were sharing with a sigh. If it was going to last all night, she might as well enjoy herself. She grabbed the remote and flipped to a random channel.

"Sweet! Doctor Sexy reruns!" she whispered excitedly. Her voice was almost lost in the din coming from the tiny kitchen area. As she made herself comfortable on the bed, she smiled slightly. It might have been a dysfunctional family, but it was her family. That was when the front door swung open with a bang.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked angrily. The woman standing at the door had an exasperated look that Liz associated with her brothers. She didn't look like one of Dean's conquests, and Sam's rarely looked so pissed.

"My name is Allie Carter. I'm looking for an Elizabeth Winchester." replied the woman calmly. Liz studied her for a moment, then decided they had never met. She was fairly tall, with reddish brown hair tucked up into a fancy updo. Even someone as unfeminine as Liz could see that her pantsuit had been tailored to her body, which gave off a very professional aura. The clipped tone helped with the classiness, and Liz felt slightly embarrassed to be wearing a ratty tee shirt and muddy jeans.

"What do you want her for?" Sam asked, almost politely.

"I'm the foster mother of her daughter. I think it's best I return her to her birth mother." Liz felt her blood run cold. She'd had a fling one time, with a nice guy who's name she couldn't remember. It had happened when Sam was in the cage, so she'd been able to hide it from Dean, but she couldn't deny the fact that there was one little girl named Charlotte in Cicero, Indiana who she was the mother to. The girl was born in... Liz thought it was May, yes definitely May. May of 2010, and it was currently May again, three years later. Lottie had to be three, or a week or two away from it by now. Her mother had ditched her in the hospital and skipped town. No contact since then, and Liz wasn't complaining.

"Lizzy hasn't got any kids." said Sam matter of factly.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" asked Dean snappily.

"Sir, I understand you may be confused, but I have a three year old little girl with me and I'd appreciate it if you didn't swear around her." said Allie sternly. Liz was getting a schoolteacher vibe from her. Dean scoffed at that but remained silent for a moment.

"Miss, I'm sure you don't mean any harm, but you must be mistaken. My sister hasn't got any kids. I think I would know." Sam continued. He sounded confused, like there was no possible way for Allie to be telling the truth, when it was perfectly plausible and true.

"I'm Charlotte's aunt, I'm confident that I know the mother. After all, I was there for most of her pregnancy. Is she here?" Liz stepped out from behind the bathroom door where she had hidden.

"She is. Why did you bring Charlotte to me? I gave her up for a reason. If you're her aunt, which I know you are, why didn't you just take her to her father's?" Liz said carefully. She was remembering Allie now, although her hair had been mousy brown back then, and her demeanor less confident. Her brother, Emmett or something like that, was the father.

"Elliot is dead. Slaughtered in his sleep by a hellhound. He made a deal with a demon, and I don't want any part of it coming onto Charlotte. You're a hunter, and her mother. Deal with it."

"I don't believe you. You know too much about the supernatural to be a normal person. You're probably a demon." Sam said defiantly. Allie glared at him and pulled a small child out from behind her. There was no denying that Charlotte looked like her mother, with the same pretty hazel eyes bordering on green and the same dirty blonde hair, although the child's hair curled in messy ringlets and there was still innocence in her eyes. She looked fierce, with a slight scowl on her pink lips. Dean dropped his beer.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted as he heard the glass shatter. Allie sighed loudly, but Dean had already shoved past them and hopped into his precious Impala. Liz heard the engine start and wished that her older brother was a bit more accepting.

"I've got some spaghetti stuff I can make if you'd like to stay for dinner." Liz offered nervously. Sam forced a smile and dropped his beer in the trash can. It was going to be a long night.