Lawrence, Kansas—Mayson Household

Let it not be said that Azazel doesn't prioritize his schedule, even if a quick pit stop in Kansas is derailing certain…. Plans. Meg can wait, this is a little more important than a coven of witches in Louisiana. He smiles down at the infant lying in the crib, letting her wrap impossibly fragile digits around one of his fingers.

The body he's possessing is scarred and calloused, looking out of place amongst purple-painted walls and stuffed animals. The child doesn't seem to mind it in the least, kicking her little feet and making happy gurgling sounds.

"Aren't you just precious," he says lowly, taking his hand back from her. "Are you going to be strong, little one?" Azazel pricks the pad of his finger and brings it to the baby's mouth, Elizabeth swallowing a few drops of blood before the wound heals. Her eyes flicker black for an instant before settling back on hazel, her body handling his blood nicely.

"Ba," the baby says, reaching pudgy hands up to slap against his nose. "Ba!"

"You're going to be a soldier, Elizabeth Mayson. Your mother's bloodline traces all the way back to the Source and your father's is just as potent as mine." Being barely six months old, Elizabeth doesn't understand anything that Azazel's saying and tugs on his vessel's graying hair. "Your kind even have a name, you know. Picked by Lucifer before he was locked in his cage."

"Boo!"

"Yes, it was a shame that it happened." She makes more content noises and one drool-slick finger pokes at his cheek. "You're called a Chosen." The race isn't rare by any means, they populate roughly ten percent of the world and more are born every day. Most will never know their heritage, they don't have the powers his own children have; maybe a little stronger, a little faster, but no psychic powers to speak of.

"Bababababa!" He shushes her and pats down some of her blonde hair, the baby quieting. Her lids fall to half-mast, yawning as the late hour catches up with her.

"You'll need some training to refine you, but I'm sure that can be arranged."

"Duh."

"And you'll have a companion. Someone to help guide you just as you'll guide him. You'll be drawn to each other, it's in your blood now." Elizabeth isn't listening anymore, sound asleep and unaware as he continues to watch her.

The boy down the street is the same age as Elizabeth, Sam Winchester possibly Azazel's most valuable asset yet. Sam is special, the perfect storm of bloodline and angelic purpose, and Azazel will stop by there in a few minutes to put his own mark on the child. One day he'll take over this world, create a hell on earth, and these two may be the ones to help him do just that.

Azazel is going to win.

Chandler, Oklahoma—22 Years Later

"Where are you, you creepy son of a bitch," Elizabeth growls, hands balled into fists. The thing isn't going to come out of the alley alive, she's tracked him too long for him to just escape again. "Come on! You ain't Houdini!"

The ghoul seems to come out of nowhere, his fist connecting with Elizabeth's jaw and knocking her to the unforgiving asphalt. Groaning, she clambers back to her feet and brings her knife out. The ghoul doesn't give her a chance to get her bearings, backhanding her and pinning her against the filthy brick wall by her throat.

"I nearly forgot how fun this is," the ghoul smirks. His breath is hot as it fans against Elizabeth's face, reeking of rotted meat. "You hunters are just too easy."

Elizabeth's never faced one of these guys before, but she knows he needs to be stopped and she's the only hunter in town at the moment. From what she can gather, she's about to be killed slowly and then have her corpse devoured. It'll most likely hurt like hell too. Just her freaking luck.

She tightens her hold on the knife and rams it into the ghoul's side, making him howl as he jerks away in pain.

"Ya know," she says breathlessly," I have no idea what I'm doin', but I bet that hurt like a bitch." The monster growls low in his throat and tosses the knife aside. He lunges forward, knocking her back against the wall. "Fuck!" Elizabeth pushes the pain to the back of her mind and kicks him in the stomach as hard as she can, forcing him to fall backwards and hit his head on the metal dumpster behind him.

Clapping alerts her to someone's presence, her posture going rigid. If there's another monster, then she's completely screwed. "Way to go, Liza," says an all too familiar voice. She can't make out the speaker in the dim lighting of the busted streetlight, but she knows who it is. Dark blond hair cut short, green eyes, freckles over his nose and cheeks, and a give 'em hell grin; it all adds up to the guy she used to torture with her pre-teen Toby Keith obsession.

"Dean Winchester." She rolls her eyes, trying to catch her breath. "Unless you plan on buying some of my niece's Girl Scout cookies, then you can—" She's cut off when the ghoul tackles her, his hands squeezing around her throat. She grabs up her knife and buries it in the ghoul's skull, shoving him to the side.

"You good over there?"

"I will be after I've had a shower." Dean helps her up, his hand just as warm as she remembers. Elizabeth isn't the type to make romantic declarations, but she can see herself climbing up Dean's fire escape in the rain with a bouquet of flowers. You know, if he had a fire escape. She'd bring him white lilies like he used to leave outside her bedroom door whenever he stayed at Bobby's house. "So, what brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"John's missing." Elizabeth studies him in the flickering light and finds a rare expression that makes her belly churn nervously. He's serious, all signs of amusement drained away. "He was on a hunt and I haven't heard from him in a while."

"You think it's the demon?" Dean shrugs, wiping some blood off her swelling cheek. "I'll help, but what am I gonna tell Lilly? She's not going to understand why she has to go back to Tanya's early."

"Tell her that you have to go away on business to catch the bad guys. Oh yeah, and that I want some Thin Mints." Elizabeth lets out a breathless laugh, letting Dean help her down the street to the Impala she spent a good chunk of her childhood in. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"Shut up, Dean, you know that's not gonna do you any good. After all, I care about your dad, too." That's total bullshit, but he doesn't need to know that. They get in the front seat of the car, relaxing for a little while and not noticing more ghouls coming up behind them. "So, where are we headed after I pack my stuff?"

"To spring Sammy from the boring life of college."

"I'll bet he's gonna just love that."

It's almost two hours later when Elizabeth and Dean walk into her apartment, heading right for the kitchen to get some much-needed beers. The ghoul Elizabeth had taken down seconds before Dean announced his presence had three other friends and they were all nastier than the last.

Groaning as she enters the living room again, Elizabeth flops backwards onto her couch, laying her sore feet in Dean's lap. She's tired, she's sore, and she can easily fall asleep right here if everything remains still and silent. Times like this make me wonder why the hell fighting monsters is a thing.

"Sissy," a small, curious voice asks. Elizabeth's eyes flicker open and she can see her niece standing the in the doorway. She's holding a stuffed teddy bear closer to her chest, green eyes widening as she looks over at Dean. Lilly's only met him a couple of times before and probably can't remember much about him. She takes a small step forward, eyes never leaving Dean.

"It's alright, sweetie." Elizabeth smiles as she sits up, beckoning for her niece to come sit with them. "This is my friend, Dean. He plans on buying some cookies." Dean gives the three year old a dazzling smile, holding out a hand for her to shake and winking when she settles on of her hands inside his larger one. "Hon, I'm gonna have to go away for a while so your mommy and daddy are gonna spoil you for me. I'll visit when I can." After Elizabeth's sister died, Lilly was taken to a foster home and Elizabeth is able keep her every other weekend. "Are you okay with cutting this weekend a little short?"

"Are you gonna go beat up the bad guys, Sissy?" Elizabeth gives her a sad smile, nodding. "Is your friend gonna help?" Suddenly Lilly's eyes get big, looking like she's just thought of something earth-shattering. "Are you two gonna get married? Oh, oh, can I be the flower-thrower-person?" Dean and Elizabeth share an awkward look, memories of their dads' teasing the two of them coming to the forefronts of their minds.

"Uh, no, we're just really good friends," Dean assures her. "But, if I ever marry someone you'll be the first person I go to about flowers." Her eyes light up and she jumps off Elizabeth's lap and into his, making him pinky promise. "Yeah, yeah, of course I promise. What kind of man wouldn't want someone adorable at their wedding to throw flowers at people?" Lilly giggles, blushing a little at the compliment.

"Alright, Lillybug," Elizabeth says, delivering a light pat to her leg," go get your stuff together 'cause we're leaving first thing tomorrow." She nods, running back to her bedroom. "Way to go, slick, charming a three year old takes a lot of talent that I didn't think you had." He gives her a fake glare, pouncing as she tries to get up and straddling her back.

"Do I really need to remind you just how charming I can be," he asks in a low, seductive voice that sends shivers down her spine.

"Dean, Lilly's a very light sleeper."

"Then we'll be quiet," he mumbles, turning Elizabeth over and placing a feather-light kiss on her lips.

God, how I've missed this.