TORTURE

Heheh please don't kill me. SORRY I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG! I had, you know, school, mental breakdowns, the usual.

Wait do people actually read this

Thank you, AJ Granger for pointing out all the massive plot holes in my story!(read: Fuck you) No, but seriously, thank you so much. I probably wouldn't have noticed half of those things without you pointing them out. I'm actually going to go back and fix them after this chapter!

That being said, I may not post again for up to a month. I'll try my best to update, but I'll be fairly busy going back and fixing everything. I also have school, so… I may be adding another chapter back towards the beginning, so you can go back and read that if you want when I post it. It's not that important, it's just more details on the pilot episode hunt.

I'm debating on when to have her rejoin the Winchesters, I have three different really good ideas

I might add in some different point of views now that we're starting season two soon

Please review, I'm desperate

Lucille woke up in a dimly lit room, the only source of light being a small, flickering light bulb hanging high above her head. Lengths of rope bound her wrists, ankles, and torso to an uncomfortable wooden chair. The clicheness of this whole situation disgusted her. She lifted her head and glared into the empty room, attempting to tug her arms out of the restraints. She hissed in pain as the coarse rope cut into her already raw wrists. Chancing a look down at them, she cringed at the pink marks underneath the rope. Luckily, she still had her jacket on, but the sleeves had slipped up slightly to expose her tan skin. She sighed in relief, feeling the cool touch of the angel blade against her skin. How stupid were these kidnappers to leave the kidnapee with a weapon? Complete failures, Lucille thought, snickering internally.

Her head snapped up at the sound of a small chuckle from across the room. The muscles in her neck screamed in protest, having gotten used to the position that she had been unconscious in. She ignored the pain in favor of concentrating on the tall man in front of her. He had an entirely black outfit from what she could tell, although that may have just been because of the terrible lighting. He had short blond hair that faintly reminded her of the older Winchester. She scowled as her brain unhelpfully supplied that comparison- Dean would never do this to her.

And his face- it was hideous. No, his human face, that was decent looking, almost handsome. But beyond that- it was like the human part was a transparent mask, covering a dark, twisted thing. A demon, she realized. She recoiled back into the chair and attempted to make herself as small as possible as he took a step closer to her.

"I will smite you, you stupid son of a bitch," she seethed at him. He laughed mockingly.

"I'd like to see you try," he called out.

The man began walking closer, but instead of stopping in front of her, continued to her left. She twisted in her restraints, her eyes widening as she caught sight of a small metal table. Strewn across it in a neat, precise fashion were multiple objects that she assumed would be extremely painful. The demon seemed to carefully consider each weapon before picking up a short, jagged knife. Lucille considered screaming for help, but that would probably just encourage the demon. Besides, it was highly unlikely that anyone would actually hear her.

She flinched and looked away as the demon suddenly pointed the knife towards her.

"So… the Winchester's little pet," he said, smirking. She felt the cold bite of the tip of the knife trail leisurely over her cheek as he circled around the chair, coming to a stop directly in front of her. She met his eyes defiantly, determined not to look away again.

"I'm not their pet," she spat back, baring her teeth in an expression akin to a snarl. "I haven't spoken to them in months, asshat." She inhaled sharply as the demon pressed the sharp tip of the knife against her upper leg.

"You little bitch!" The demon laughed. She bit her lip in pain as the blade cut through the fabric of her jeans and easily pierced her skin.

"Oh, how I wish I could just dig this knife into your-" He quickly cut himself off. "Well, as much as I'd like to, the boss wants you intact." Lucille's eyebrows raised dramatically and she mockingly gasped.

"Somebody actually wants me alive? Oh, how touching!" she said sarcastically, tossing her head to the side to get her hair out of her face. She breathlessly screamed in pain as the demon drove the knife deeper into her leg. The demon, however, stumbled back, his eyes wide and his hair standing straight up, like he had been electrocuted.

Lucille glanced down at her restraints- each rope was fried, and the wooden chair was completely charred. Ignoring the pain in her leg where the knife was lodged, she yanked her arms free. The ashy remains of the rope fell to the floor and she stood before the demon could regain his balance. She gritted her teeth, the muscles in her leg burning. Blood flowed freely from the wound as she stepped forwards, soaking the dark fabric of her jeans. She covered the wound with her hand as best she could with the knife still stuck in her thigh.

"That was a nice little trick you got there, girl," the demon said harshly, righting himself. "If I could, you'd already be dead," he bit out, stepping towards her. She glared mutinously up at him as he looked down on her, grinning viciously. They stood toe-to-toe, neither of them making a move for a moment.

The demon's hand suddenly darted up, wrapping tightly around Lucille's neck. She made a small choking noise, pulling her hand off of her leg to scrabble at the hand around her throat. She suddenly remembered the angel blade stashed up her sleeve and willed it into the hand that wasn't grappling with the demon's while he was distracted. Her eyes widened as the grip on her throat tightened, drawing her chin in as close to her neck as possible. She lifted the angel blade and drove it into the man's side, right below his ribcage. The constricting hold around her neck slackened as the demon's internal organs and bones were illuminated from inside with a bright orange light. His mouth opened in a wordless scream and he collapsed, falling backwards with the blade still imbedded in his side.

Lucille grinned weakly as the adrenaline wore off, the pain in her leg coming back. "Told you I would smite you," she muttered before promptly fainting.

Lucille groaned as she came to, sitting up. She almost immediately winced and laid back down, her entire body sore. Her eyes shot open as she heard someone choke back a laugh across the room. Wait- room? She struggled back into a sitting position and looked around defensively. She was in a motel room similar to her own, the decor only slightly different. Her eyes quickly found the source of the noise she had heard earlier.

A woman with cropped brown hair, probably in her mid-forties, sat in a chair with a floral print over near the window, staring at Lucille with barely disguised amusement in her chocolate eyes. In her hands sat the younger girl's angel blade, which she set off to the side and stood up. Lucille's eyes passed over her outfit as she stepped forwards. Green flannel, a leather jacket of the same color, distressed jeans, and black combat boots.

"Careful there," she said, crossing the room to beside the bed Lucille was laying on. Her voice had a slight southern accent, which she found oddly comforting. It reminded her of her mom. "Don't want to rip the stitches."

Lucille's eyes widened and she looked down at her leg. It looked like the woman had torn off the entire leg of her pants to patch up the stab wound. White gauze was wound tightly around her thigh.

"Who are you?" Lucille asked cautiously, subconsciously scooting away from her as she drew nearer.

"The name's Anne," she said. "I'm something called a hunter. I hunt things like ghosts, demons, vampires- you know, the paranormal. They're not just myths. The thing that kidnapped you? A demon." The woman- Anne, apparently, looked like she was waiting for a reaction. She obviously didn't know that Lucille was the one who had called it in. It probably wouldn't do Bobby's reputation any good if they knew that the cases he handed out were found by a teenager, so the fact that she wasn't aware was actually pretty reasonable. Well, Lucille decided, now is as good a time as any to ruin his rep.

"I know," she said, tentatively reached up and prodding the bruises that formed hand shapes around her neck. She hissed in pain- they hadn't fully healed yet. "I'm the one that found the case. I told Bobby Singer about it, and I'm guessing he passed it on to you." Anne looked impressed.

"Damn," she exclaimed, looking down approvingly at the small 'angel'. "He didn't tell me a kid found it." Lucille scowled and crossed her arms across her chest.

"I'm not a kid," she complained. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand up. She managed to take a single step before falling unsteadily back onto the bed. Anne leaned forward and gently pushed her back into a sitting position before walking back to the floral chair.

She grabbed her flip phone from the table beside the chair and quickly dialed a number. Lucille looked at her curiously as she waited impatiently for the person to pick up.

"Bobby!" she said brightly into the phone. "Well, the demon's dead." She paused as the old hunter on the other end said something that Lucille couldn't hear.

"Yeah, well, about that…" she said slowly. "I didn't kill it." Her gaze hardened as she stared at the floor, listening to Bobby say something else.

"You want to know who killed the goddamn demon? The teenage girl you have out looking for cases that got kidnapped and stabbed!" she practically shouted into the receiver. Anne's eyes widened comically as Bobby replied to her outburst, looking over to Lucille. "Now is that true? Right away, Singer." She hung up the phone and crossed the room back to Lucille's side. "Alright, girl, let's go."

She hooked her arms under Lucille's and helped the younger girl stand. Lucille looked at her confusedly as she walked her to the door.

"Go where?" she asked, her voice small. The hunter looked at her disapprovingly.

"To Bobby's house. He's done with this whole 'anonymous teen' act." Lucille sighed resignedly. She knew that there was really no way to avoid their meeting at this point, but she didn't really wanted to. Okay, maybe she did, but… Well, there wasn't really any reason she could think of that not to go. She just wanted to interfere with recurring and main characters' lives as little as possible. Thinking back, that may have been one of the subconscious reasons that she had left in the first place. "Speaking of anonymous, what's your name, kid?"

"Luci- Er, Lucille," she said automatically, almost instantly regretting the split-second decision to give her real name. She was going to just say Luci, but her brain, apparently, had decided that 'Lucille' was a more hunter-esque name.

"Well, Lucille, let's go," Anne insisted, a sharper bite to her tone that a moment ago.

"Fine. I'll go gather my stuff," she said grumpily, pulling away from the older girl. She leaned on the wall heavily for an alternative method of support and pulled the door open, peering out on the nearly empty parking lot. The papers she had dropped when she was grabbed were no longer strewn across the pavement- Anne must have gathered them when she arrived. She noticed that it was pretty dark outside, so it was at least five hours since she had been taken.

"How long was I out?" she asked curiously. The older girl crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowed in an analyzing expression.

"Almost a full day. Well, since I found you in that warehouse. Before that? No idea," Anne replied calmly. Her eyes widened and she almost fell over. A day?

"Holy crap," she muttered, walking out into the empty parking lot. Well that explained her aching stomach.

Lucille made her way back to her motel room with Anne trailing slowly behind, most likely making sure that she didn't just run off or anything. She found the door to be unlocked(she hadn't locked it when she was kidnapped), and walked inside. Her stuff was still exactly as she left it, which was somewhat surprising. She had expected at least someone to go through her crap- Anne, the demon, some random thief. The door was unlocked, after all.

Anne remained in the doorway as Lucille gathered what was hers and stuffed it in her bag. Lucille glanced over her shoulder at the older hunter with a pair of jeans and a new shirt folded over her arm.

"Could you, um…" She gestured awkwardly to the clothes in her hand, and then the door. Anne nodded and stepped outside the motel room. Lucille hurriedly changed, wincing as she pulled the fresh pair of jeans over the gauze wrapped around her leg. She and Anne both checked out of the motel.

"I can drive myself," Lucille said when Anne opened the passenger door of her truck to her, waving her hand towards her own '57 Chevy.

"Alright," Anne responded, closing the car door. "I'm watching you, so don't think for a second that you can just drive off." She entered her number into the young girl's phone so that they could communicate without having to pull over. In her phone were four other numbers- Sam's, Dean's, Bobby's, and another unnamed hunter. Bobby had given the number to her as an emergency contact, but had to go before he got around to telling her their name. He still hadn't gotten around to telling her the mystery hunter's identity, so the name in her phone was currently 'Random Hunter'.

Lucille paused, suddenly realizing something. She walked to her car and pretended to place her bag in the backseat. She quietly unzipped the duffel and pulled a small water bottle out, uncapping it.

She quickly twisted on her heel, throwing her arm out towards the other lady. Anne spluttered as the holy water dripped down her skin, wiping it away with her sleeve.

"Smart." Lucille nodded to herself as if confirming something before putting the half-empty bottle away.

"By the way, can I have the an- that knife back?" she asked, referring to the angel blade that was sitting in the backseat of Anne's trunk. Anne picked it up and looked over it for a second before holding it out.

Lucille carefully took it back by the blade and set it in her duffel, not wanting to slip it up her sleeve for fear of showing she had experience with it. That would just lead to more questions about it, which she really wasn't in the mood for at the moment.

"What?" she asked somewhat defensively at Anne's questioning look.

"Where'd you get that?" Lucille hesitating, coming up with a suitable answer.

"I just picked it up from the demon's tools and hoped it would kill the black eyed son of a bitch. Since you brought it back, I figure I'll keep it. You know, for sentimental reasons." She gave her a cheeky grin.

The left an hour later, after they had eaten in that town. They drove for seven hours straight, only stopping for gas. She had considered pulling away from the highway and putting as much distance between her and Anne as she could, but she had full confidence in the fact that Bobby would be able to track her now that he had a face to put the voice to.

Lucille absentmindedly reached into the passenger seat as her phone rang and flipped it open, pressing it to her ear.

"Hey," she said into the receiver. She changed lanes so that she could stay right behind Anne's red Ford, squinting against the bright morning sun. It had risen a little over an hour ago, and was still fairly low in the sky.

"Hey, kid." Why did everyone insist on calling her a kid? "You up for some breakfast?" Lucille grinned at the prospect of food, her stomach growling in anticipation.

"Sure," she said, putting the phone on speaker and setting it beside her. "Where?"

"I think there's a town just off the next exit, we can grab something there." Lucille nodded to herself and hung up, following the large truck in front of her down an exit. She glanced at the sign as they passed it briefly- something in the 170's. Buildings began to dot the side of the road, mostly small places like barbershops and car repairs.

Her eyes hovered over a large sign welcoming them to Manning, Colorado. Manning… The name of the town tugged at a memory in the very back of her mind, buried under almost a full year of life changing experiences. Maybe it was something from the show… Well, she would check later.

Lucille followed Anne into a diner parking lot, ducking out of the front seat of the Chevy. She leaned back in an awkward attempt to read the name of the diner, but she was too close to properly see it. The older hunter stopped in the doorway of the diner to stare at her, an eyebrow raised at her childish behavior. Lucille blushed and limped inside, muttering a quick "thank you" as Anne held the door open for her. The limp was mostly just for show, though. Sure, it still hurt like a bitch when she put too much pressure on her leg, but she was perfectly capable of walking normally.

They found a booth in the corner of the small diner, Lucille sitting on the side closer to the door. Quickly ordering, Lucille answered Anne's questions to the best of her abilities without revealing too much.

"So, why're you out hunting by yourself at this age?" she asked, intrigued. Lucille considered the question for a moment before going with one of the most common reasons for hunting.

"Well, a werewolf attacked my parents and my older brother when I was ten, and a hunter took me in." Fake sadness crept into her voice, vying for pity. It evidently worked, Anne's expression softening. "He, uh, he passed away last year on a wendigo hunt." A somber look passed over her face, and she made a show of wiping away nonexistent tears. It had taken her a moment to think of a good creature to have killed her fake hunter, but she quickly remembered the first time she was in actual danger with the Winchesters.

"I'm sorry, hun," said Anne with a pitying tone. Lucille nodded sadly before placing her hands in her lap, staring at the long fingers.

"It's fine," she replied shortly. "Everyone has to die sometimes." Anne nodded with a knowing look. Oh my Chuck, I am so overdoing this.

"Looks like our food is coming out," she said, looking at a point over Lucille's shoulder. The younger girl twisted in her seat to see a waitress with three plates balanced on her arms walking towards them. Her eyes followed the woman until she reached their table.

"Here you go," the waitress said, setting the plates down in front of the duo. "A sausage and bacon omelette with a side of pancakes for you," she said to Anne. "And an egg white vegetable omelette for the little lady!" She smiled brightly at Lucille, who forced a smile back. She was much too exhausted for this kind of peppiness. "Need anything else?"

Both women(if Lucille could be considered a woman at this point, and not just a girl) shook their head at the inquiry and turned to their food as the waitress walked away. Lucille's thoughts drifted to the television show she was currently in, her mind making up for the absence of conversation. Her eyes widened exponentially as Anne's name reminded her of something. Anna Milton!

"Shit," she said quietly to herself. She was just now realizing everything she could prevent with her knowledge. How old was Anna now, anyway? She had to be, what, twenty? Fifteen at the least.

"Hm?" she heard Anne ask faintly. She glanced up and waved her away with a quick "nothing".

"I'm done," she said, pushing her plate away.

Anne looked up as Lucille pulled her wallet out of her back pocket, frowning. "I can pay for the both of us!" The younger hunter slowly put the folded leather material away, smiling uncertainly.

"Thanks," she responded quietly. "I'll pay you back." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Anne rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry about it, hon," the huntress said, digging her own wallet out of her jacket. "You're just a kid, you don't cost much."

"Sorry, I just… it's been awhile since anyone did anything nice for me." Chuck, that sounded so sappy. Her eyes were cast downwards as she spoke, the truth in her words stinging.

"Hon," Anne began, "You ain't on your own anymore. We're gonna go up to Bobby's, together, and we'll figure out what to do from there. But trust me, no kid's gonna be out hunting on their own if I have any say in it."

Lucille stopped in her tracks as they made their way back to their cars parked out in front of the diner. A man, easily as tall as Dean, if not taller, was ducking out of a black GMC Sierra Grande. Her eyes widened and it seemed like her feet were frozen to the spot.

Of course, the town that they stopped in just had to be the one place with John fucking Winchester.