Chapter 8: Lizbeth Joy Winchester

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When Dean Winchester first saw her, he had been taken aback. The poor girl was slumped against a wooden chair, her long and lanky frame was shaking, and her arms that seemed just a bit too long for her body hung at her sides. Long black hair clung to her face and neck, with a white streak in her hair that was splattered with her own blood. A white streak. Hadn't Sammy told him about that? Some genetic mutation? The thought entered and exited his brain in about half a second, and instincts kicked in.
Next thing he knew, he was signing adoption papers to make her his sister.
Sam, even though he hadn't even met her yet, had hacked into a few websites so it looked like the Winchester's were her long lost cousins.
They tended to her wounds on a daily basis at Bobby's, where Bobby had taken complete sympathy to her and basically did anything she needed.
And then her name was changed.
It was now Lizbeth Joy Winchester.
Sam liked her. She was almost a year older than him, and almost as smart. Everyone called her by a nickname, instead of her full first name of Lizbeth. They refrained from calling her Lizzy or Liz, since that brought back old memories. John had once made the mistake of calling her Lizzy, resulting in her crying out in a corner, half-way through a panic attack. So, yeah, she had slight PTSD.
She stayed wherever the Winchester's were. Demon hunt? At first she would stay with Sam and research. That was, until she started hunting herself.
And she was pretty damn good at it.
Her weapon of choice was knives. Sharp, dangerous knives.
And she was lethal.

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