Sitting next to Sam, you looked between both brothers, seeing the tiniest hint of sadness and jealousy cross Dean's face before he turned back into the kitchen. "That doesn't look like research to me." He yelled behind him.

Clearing his throat, Sam stood up, moving over to Bobby's desk, moving books around. "We were just clearing up some issues." He explained as Dean came in with a beer in his hands. He once again had a half grin covering his face, and you were beginning to see that was his way of hiding his true emotions.

"Sure you were." He teased.

"At least some people deal with their issues." You threw back, watching as his eyes snapped over to you, a genuine look of surprise on his face. You seemed to have hit a nerve, and you immediately felt bad. "Sorry, I'm tired. It's been a long day, or couple of days actually. Sam and I, we were just discussing your conversation from earlier."

"Ahh. The one were he was the dick for once." Dean said, nodding his head and pouting his lips out adorably.

"Dean." Sam growled at his brother. It was interesting, watching the interaction between the two brothers. They seemed closer, a lot closer, than most brothers you had known, and you could recognize instantly that they would do anything for each other. Even if they were currently pissed at each other, like they seemed to be at the moment.

"So, what's next?" You asked them, as Dean pulled a chair over, sitting backwards on it.

"Now we do research, like Sam was supposed to do." Dean said. "Cas is up in heaven trying to figure things out. Maybe a book or something down here will give us a clue to go on."

Sam slammed a book down, before grabbing his laptop. "I'll search the web, see if anything pops up that seems fitting. But Y/N, I might need more of your information, like birth date, family history, to help the search."

"Sure, anything. But what should I do?" You asked, feeling a little useless. Dean had grabbed a book already from a pile, and was flipping through it, and Sam was already typing away at his computer. Bobby was still cussing away on the phone lines, leaving you as the only one not doing anything.

Sam looked up from his computer. "Why don't you write down some pertinent information, that way I have it right here. Then, I'm not sure."

Taking a notepad, you wrote down your birthday, your parents name, your grandparents names, even the towns you had lived in. After giving it to Sam, you wandered into the kitchen, your stomach growling a little bit. Opening the fridge, you frowned at the lack of items in front of you. Shutting it, you turned to the cabinets, your frown deepening as each one proved to be empty or had items that expired five years ago. "What does he even eat?" You muttered to yourself as you turned to the fridge once again. Giving up, you noticed the phone hanging on the side of the kitchen, along with the numbers to various take out restaurants. Minutes later, you had ordered a couple of pizzas, hoping your stomach would be patient long enough for them to show up.

Feeling a little better that food was on the way, you wandered back into the study, seeing Dean hunched over, still in his chair, studying an old, leather book. Sam was still typing away at the computer, and you went and stood behind him, wondering if he had found anything. "How's it going?" You asked.

"Nothing so far. But you were a pretty decent student in high school. Except for that C in Chemistry." He teased.

"Seriously? You found my high school transcripts?" You asked, feeling a little exposed, curious as to what else he had found while looking.

"Yeah. Don't worry, I hated science too. I liked learning languages better." He said, and you nodded in agreement. Other languages had always come easy to you too.

"I also found out about that thing, when you were twenty." He said, his eyes twinkling with laughter.

"No, you didn't." You said, your face red, completely mortified.

Dean looked up from his book then, a curious look on his face. "What thing?"

"It's just...it was...Not a big deal." You stuttered.

Sam chuckled. "I think getting picked up by police while dressed as the powerpuff girls would be a big deal. Especially after you claimed you had powers and were fighting evil."

Dean busted out laughing, dropping his book and coming over. You sunk into a chair, your hands covering your face, mortified beyond belief. "Is there a picture? I've got to see a picture."

"It was my friends birthday, her twenty first. We had too much to drink at a costume party. Stuff like that happens! The charges were dropped!" You argued, as Sam showed Dean your police picture.

"Nice. You make a really hot Buttercup." He said, smirking your way.

"Can't you delete that?" You begged Sam, but he shook his head.

"Nope. No can do. Even though you weren't charged, it will always be on the record. But on a more serious note, I just found this." He said, his smile dropping as he turned the screen your way. You leaned forward, your eyes narrowing as you took in the older document on the screen.

"It's a birth certificate." You read. "So?"

"Look closer." Sam said, watching you carefully. You did as he asked, seeing your name on the top of the document. But this wasn't the normal birth certificate you had locked away in your blue box, this one had different names, and places.

"Why aren't my parents names listed. Who are these people? And I've never been to Fort Wayne, Indiana. Why does it say I was born there?" You asked, as an feeling of dread settled into your stomach.

Sam turned the computer back to him, typing away for another minute, before looking up at you, sadness gracing his beautiful hazel eyes. "Y/N, I'm sorry to be the one to break it to you. But you were adopted. Your parents? The ones that were killed? They adopted you when you were six months old, and had all the papers changed so it looked like they were your real parents."

You tried to take a deep breath, but you couldn't. You couldn't breathe, couldn't move, your face pale as you tried to wrap your mind around your newest information. Black dots speckled your vision, and you felt yourself sway. Before you could fall over, a strong hand was rubbing circles on your back, leaning you forward so your chest was between your knees.

"Breathe, just breathe. Relax. It's okay." Dean's voice said over and over again, trying to calm you down. It took a couple of minutes, but before long you were taking deep breaths, feeling much better. You sat back up, Dean's hand staying on your shoulder, and you welcomed the touch.

"I'm adopted?" You asked, your heart still pounding.

Sam nodded, "I'm sorry. I know that must be hard to hear."

You nodded, "Yeah, you're right." You agreed, just as you heard the gravel crunch in Bobby's driveway. "That's the pizza." You said nonchalantly.

"I'll go get it." Sam said, moving to stand up, but you stopped him.

"No, I will. I need fresh air anyways." You said, standing up and moving awkwardly to the door. Sam and Dean stayed behind, watching you carefully until you were out of sight. Grabbing your purse, you pulled out a couple of twenties, before opening the door.

The car was parked down the driveway a little ways, the driver just getting out of the car. You walked forward, meeting him halfway. He had on a ball cap, and the unmistakable uniform of the pizza chain, but when he tilted his head up and looked at you, you felt uneasy at his gaze.

"Pizza for Y/N?" He asked you, staring at you intently.

"Yep." You said, handing over the money, but he just continued to stare at you, and you were ready to grab the pizza and run.

"This was a lot easier than I thought. Uriel will be so proud of me." He said, dropping the pizza and grasping your arm roughly. You fought hard, pulling against his hold with all your might, but you felt a flash of electricity, and you lost your balance, falling into him. When you pushed yourself away, you noticed you were no longer in Bobby's driveway, but a small, windowless room.

"Uriel's going to so happy. Let me go get him for you." He said, before flashing out right in front of your eyes, exactly as Cas had done days ago.

"Damn it." You muttered, knowing you were trapped, and in a lot of trouble.