Disclaimer: I don't own anything but myself - Lily.

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I know this is going to sound crazy and you probably won't believe a word of it. But to be honest, I simply don't care about whether you believe me or not. I'm just telling what happened, and if you don't believe me, it's your loss. Or maybe it's even better for you if you don't believe me. Because it might be difficult to go on doing what you do if you did. Believe me, I mean.

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I'll start with the beginning, and most of it will be told quickly, since there's not much to tell.

The main thing I remember about my childhood is running away and hiding. For some time I didn't figure out what exactly I was running from – so for some years I was just running and moving through Europe. I tried to settle down a few times – I was caught several times by the authorities and put into children's homes or even into the care of foster families. They were nice – at least some of them. But one day I felt that "it" got on my tail again and I had to start running again.

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My big luck was that I was a fast learner - at least in the language department. I grew up in Germany, but since my mother was a Frenchwoman and my father travelled a lot around the world doing business here and there, I learned French and English very early. I was able to write and read German, English and French quite fluently at the age of eight and I still think this is what saved me from not learning anything at all. Because when I was ten, I had to leave everything behind - and naturally I also stopped going to school on a regular basis.

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When I was caught by the authorities the first time, it was the beginning of the winter in Switzerland. They put me into a children's home – which saved me from starving and freezing to death. Unfortunaltely I felt "it" behind me before the winter was over. It was my first winter outside of shelter and it was very cold in this part of Europe. I stayed close to towns when I could and stole what I needed – food, clothes, money. When the wheather was ok, I slept in barns, when I couldn't find a barn, I crept into a hay roll in a field or climbed on a deer stand that had a roof. If the wheather was not ok, I hid in the community library or in the church and let them lock me in for the night. Sometimes I got caught – then I got a bed for night and a warm meal for dinner which was kind of nice.

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If there was something that I learned during these years of running and hiding, it was how to disappear from a place completely and without a trace. Well, and how to sneak into all kinds libraries and museums – or break into internet cafes at night – to get the information I needed and to do the research I wanted to do. I kept away from the other homeless populating the cities of Europe – and they kept their distance from me, as if somehow they felt that something evil was following me.

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One day, when I was at Calais - partly out of boredom, partly out of curiosity - I stowed away on board one of these a ferries to Dover. From there I travelled to Oxford and Cambridge – I couldn't resist it: There seemed to be so much knowledge to gather and so many libraries to visit!

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When "it" came after me again, I made a run to Scotland, but there I felt like I was trapped. I got to the States from there, but this is another story – let's say there wasn't much involved that could have been called legally acceptable and so I'm not going to tell it here. And it was my luck that I decided to travel before they toughened up the entry requirements.

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So, that's my life in a nutshell – I'm still on the run, so much hasn't changed. But this time I don't fear European demons anymore – for a demon was what killed my entire family and burned up my home. I guess the fiend lost my trail when I stepped on that plane in London – at least I haven't felt him behind me since.

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If I had known that there were hunters, I probably would have become one myself. But I was too focussed on running, hiding and trying to understand (which I had done for the last years), that the idea to turn the tables and start hunting and killing what was hunting and trying to kill me didn't even cross my mind.

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Nevertheless I felt free like never before in my life. I was seventeen years old, owned an old beaten-up korean car, a bag stuffed with wigs, make-up and all kinds of charms and mojos and a fake passport and driver's licence saying I was twenty one. And the demon had lost my trail...

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I felt totally relaxed that night when I parked my car on a parking lot near a small town in the Midwest. When I entered the bar next to it I heard sounds of some old rocks songs. There was a band playing in a corner – and it seemed to be the only event in this small town since the bar was almost a little bit crowded. All seats at the bar were taken and there were only a few chairs left at the tables in the corners.

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At one table two guys in their midtwenties were sitting, one with dark blond hair and a short haircut and one with shaggy brown hair that seemed a bit too long. They were deep in conversation and the brown haired guy was even typing something on a laptop, so I considered it safe to take a seat next to them. I mean, you never know with guys in bars. But these two looked ok to me.

Since I was wearing one of my more conservative wigs – a light blond one with a banana chignon - I looked a bit older than I really was. Old enough to drink, I hoped, as I ordered a beer at the bar. The barkeeper eyed me suspiciously, but handed over the beer. "Want to see an id?", I asked, but he just dismissed me with a wave of his hand. "No offence, lady."

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"Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?" I asked. "All the other seats are taken." The man with the laptop looked up surprised. He had the most stunning brown eyes I had ever seen. Did it just seem to me, or did we both hold our breath for a moment and stared at each other when our eyes met? Suddenly my face burned. "Sure, sit down", the man said after what seemed to be an eternity of staring at my face. The other guy whistled and smiled broadly – which earned him an elbow in his ribs from his friend.

"Ouch!" –

"You've got a funny accent. Where do you come from?" The intriguing one said.

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"Southern Germany", I answered. I didn't really expect him to know where to find this on a map. But instead of just nodding and pretending that he knew his geography, the guy asked, "Bavaria?" Well, that definitely surprised me.

"Impressive", I grinned. "You seem even to have an idea where this is. Most people here don't." His friend for example. He looked at least as surprised as I felt. "Since you passed the geography test - I'm Lily." I said and smiled at him.

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"Sam", he said. "And this is my brother Dean", he nodded at the other man who appeared not to be interested in the conversation at all. But from the way Dean kept glancing at me when he thought I didn't realize it, I knew that he only pretended to be bored. Truly, he was observing me intently while drinking his beer. I decided to be more careful and keep an eye on Dean while I chatted with Sam.

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Since these guys seemed way too different from the typical hangaround type you find in bars – I mean, who works on his laptop in a bar?- I stayed alert and kept the conversation light.

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- Why I was here? I was doing a road trip through the US – a gift from my rich aunt after my graduation this spring.

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- Why my English was so good? Well, most people in Europe are good at foreign languages. We start learning English at age five.

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- What did I plan to do after my road trip? I wanted to study at a German university – Munich or Frankfurt probably. Or maybe Berlin – but this meant being far away from my family and I just knew I'd miss my grandmother then. She's ill and I wanted to spend as much time with her as we'd left.

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- No, I didn't have any brothers or sisters. Not that I wouldn't love to have a big brother sometimes. But fate was cruel.

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In return I asked questions, too. And got the same kind of lies back. I didn't even try to remember them. I mean, I recognise a lie, that's something I'm really an expert on. My suspicion grew.

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Who were these guys?

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"Guys, it was a nice time, but I definitely have to hit the pillow now", I said and got up. The guys got up, too. "Same here", Sam stifled a yawn. "Nice meeting you", Dean said shaking my hand. He gave me another of these strange looks that felt as if he tried to scan my mind. I supressed a shudder and pretended not to notice.

I knew their eyes followed me until I reached my car, buckled up and drove away.

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I made sure nobody had followed me before I took a turn into an abandoned field road. I slammed the gear into park and shut the car down. That was another thing – sleeping in the car most of the time. I was used to it and it was better than sleeping outside. But cops mostly didn't react well to finding me asleep somewhere along the road. Most people tended to be suspicious of someone who lived in a car.

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I put the seat down into a comfortable sleeping position and closed my eyes. It was hot in the car, but I didn't dare sleeping outside since I had heard that there might be snakes and other strange animals creeping around in the wilderness. So I put off most of my clothes and slept in my underwear. I mean, it wasn't as if anybody would walk around and see me. – At least that was what I thought.

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In the middle of the night I was woken by a sudden knocking on the window and white light shining into my face. I jumped in shock. "What the...?"

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I didn't bother putting on anything (I was wearing shorts and a bra, so what? To my experience, most cops would stop lecturing me when I got out of the car wearing nothing but underwear), but grabbed my knife and pushed open the door, hiding the knife in my hand. "Hello?" I asked into the flashlight. "I'm sorry if I'm trespassing. I was too tired to keep going and I thought..."

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I stopped und gulped when I realized that I was looking into the barrel of a shotgun. Then I recognized the owner of the gun. "Dean?" I so knew that something about these guys was strange!

"What the..."- I paused again when I saw Sam staring at me. "Would you mind dressing...?" He blushed and tried not to look at me. I rolled my eyes. "Got a problem with my outfit?" I asked, slightly annoyed. "I don't know if you remember, but I was the one sleeping innocently inside my car when you started bumping against it. Do you expect me to sleep fully clothed, just in case you decide to come and give me a wakeup call?"

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I'd have gone on bitching like this, but the way Dean gave me a once over made me stop. My face started to feel hot again.

Dean seemed to have problems tearing his eyes away from my body. When he finally looked into my face, he appeared really angry. "What the hell were you thinking?" Dean demanded to know. "Sleeping in the car in the middle of nowhere. Don't you know how dangerous this is?"

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"Wait..." I said, thinking about this. "Do you mean, apart from being woken by two shotgun carrying lunatics?"

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I felt Dean's eyes on my body again. He focussed the flashlight on some of my various tattoos. "Nice body art." I knew he had noticed them the first second that he had laid eyes on me – it was impossible not to see them, they covered pretty much every part of my body that was usually hidden under clothing. I didn't know whether he recognized the tattoos as what they were: The most powerful protection symbols I had found during the years of my research. Against possession and some other nasty things supernatural beings could do to a person. They were symbols from all kinds of cultures. Since I had no idea about the kind of monster I might have to face, I had decided to just mix them.

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"And nice hair." That's when it hit me. Without spending any thoughts on it, I had put off the wig when I decided to sleep and opened my hair from the braid I was wearing. Since my real hair is fiery red with wild curls, I probably looked like a witch that just had jumped out of the Grimm brothers' fairy tale book. It certainly wasn't a very clever thing to do in my situation, letting my hair grow long like this. But once I had reached the US and felt safe for the first time in my life, I just couldn't bring it over me to cut it again. I mean, I didn't expect to get into a fight anymore, and I could still hide it under a wig, so why not enjoy a little vanity as long as I could afford it? Anyway, at this moment I really hated the way my hair made Dean stare at me.

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"Well, if you want to make conversation, I'll put on something decent." I said trying to hide my embarrassment. "You could start by telling me what the hell YOU are doing outside at this place and armed with this THING and scaring me half to death..."- "You don't seem scared to death to me", Dean remarked.

"That's because you can only scare me HALF to death because you are just humans." I countered. My reply had the intended effect of shutting him up for some seconds, but at the same time I knew that I had given away too much. I really should learn to hold my tongue from time to time.

"So you sleep in your car?" Sam asked. I nodded. "Motels are so expensive. My aunt just paid for the flight..." –

"Would you mind just stopping to feed us these crappy lies?" Sam interrupted me. I closed my mouth.

"Yes. I do mind." I said after a while because I couldn't think of anything else to say.

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When I looked up, Sams brown eyes were studying me. "Come with us." He said calmly. "We've a motel room. You can have the couch – it's not much, but it will be more comfortable than your car. And you'll be safer there." I wasn't convinced. When they started poking into my past... I saw Sam and Dean exchanging glances. Dean nodded.

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"I'll go with you in your car." Sam said. "So we can be sure that you don't run from us. We'd like to ask you a few questions." That's what I had feared. Panic started building up in my stomach. "Questions?" I said, angry that my voice trembled. "I don't think I want to answer questions." Nevertheless, I got into my car and waited for Sam to get into the passenger seat before I started my car. "Turn right at the main road." Sam said. There was something strange about him. It was more like a faint smell. I'm good at smelling problems, and Sam reeked of trouble. Only I somehow couldn't put my finger on what it was. I shifted uncomfortably when I felt him watching me from the side.

We didn't speak while I drove. Sam directed me to the motel where they were staying and accompanied me to their room. It was dark and small but clean, with two single beds and an old couch in front of a TV set in a corner of the room. Sam handed me a blanket. "Talk in the morning?" He asked. I nodded, glad to escape for some time.

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When Dean entered the room, I was already on the couch and pretending to sleep. I could tell that he didn't buy it, but at least he let me alone and didn't bother me further with questions.

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Thnx for all the kind feedback so far. Just in case: I appreciate ANY kind of feedback, even from critics. ;-)