**Thank you to everyone who gave me their opinion on who the relationship should be with. After this chapter, I'll probably tally the "votes" and go from there! Last chance to pipe up! And thanks for reading, love you all!**

You scoffed at the man in front of you, waving away the words he just said. "Angel grace? What the hell is that? I might be a little wayward, but I don't do drugs." 

He just cocked his head at you, his eyes squinting even deeper at you than you thought possible, his nose crinkled up at the sides. "I wasn't talking about drugs. What made you think that?"

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, not wanting this Angel to see how nervous, and scared, and sad you really were. "Because I have no idea what Angel Grace is. Now how about you explain before I walk right out that door."

His gaze shifted from you to the door, before answering. "Angel grace is what makes up an Angel. Without it, we are humans, unable to transport, heal people, any of the usual Angel stuff. And for some reason, there is some very powerful Angel grace floating around inside you."

Remembering the beer in your hand, you raised it, taking a big, long sip as your mind worked a mile a minute. There was Angel grace floating around in you. That thought would have been completely nonsensical just yesterday, but here it was today, not the most far fetched thing you had heard. "What does that mean for me? Am I an Angel?"

His deep, laugh had you reeling back, a little hurt at his laughter at your words. You were new to this whole Supernatural beings are real thing, and you had no idea what was what. "I'm glad you find this funny. But I don't."

He sobered up then, a compassionate look taking place of the smile that had just been on his face. "No, you are not an Angel. But because of the amount of Angel grace in you, you've probably noticed some weird things, right? Like the fact that you probably heal faster than most humans?"

You nodded, understanding dawning in your mind. You had always been a fast healer, surprising your doctors and your parents. Even last year, when you had accidentally sliced your hand wide open, the cut was gone in a day. Looking down at your hand, you looked at the thin white line, the only thing that remained. 

"It doesn't mean you're not human. It just means that somehow you got the grace inside you. It could have been an accident, someone could have done it deliberately, I don't know." He explained.

You leaned back against the headboard of the bed, your thoughts swirling. This put a whole new perspective on your life. "So, I have this grace inside me. That's why that man was after me. But why? Can he get it out of me?"

Cas mirrored your position on the other bed, looking a little ridiculous with his trench coat and suit. "It is possible that we can get the grace out of you, but it would probably result in your death. I can feel the grace from here. Whoever's grace it is, it's from a powerful source, and he probably wants it to help Raphael. Our next step is to figure out who gave it to you, and why."

You nodded, just as your heard the jiggling of the front door. "Hey Cas, can we wait to tell them? For at least a couple of hours? It's just, a lot to handle, and they already have a lot on their plate."

Cas frowned. "I don't think that's a good idea. They need to know what they are dealing with, to better protect you." He argued.

"Please?" You begged. "We will tell them, and soon. But there is so much else going on. I need to focus on that, and what they plan on doing with me. If we tell them, they might think it's too much to handle."

"You need to trust them. They won't toss you out because of this. But I will agree, just this once. But not for long." He said, just as Dean burst through the door, his hands full of food. Sam came behind, your stuff piled high in his bulging arms.

"Thanks guys!" You exclaimed, rushing over to help Sam drop the stuff onto the bed. You began going through the items, finding all of your favorite clothing items in one bag. "How did you know these were my favorite clothes?" You asked, grabbing your worn band t-shirt.

"We didn't. Dean searched through your drawers, grabbing everything he thought he would like on you." Sam muttered, a frown gracing his face. Dean didn't seem ashamed, he stood there with a smile on his face.

You blushed, knowing that they had gone through your panties drawer, even though you knew it would have to happen. Taking the clothes into the bathroom, you quickly shed your blood and grass stained clothes, changing into something cleaner and more comfortable. You wouldn't have minded a shower, but you figured that could wait.

Stepping back out into the main room, you noticed how quiet it got, how everyone's eyes shifted away as if they had been caught talking about you. You stared at Cas, hoping he hadn't already spilt the beans. He slightly shook his head, and you breathed a sigh of relief. "What's up guys?" You asked, grabbing the burger that Dean held out for you. 

"We were just talking about what happens next. And we were thinking the best thing to do for now, is to get you someplace safe, far from here." Sam said from his  chair at the table. You nodded, knowing it was inevitable, but still feeling a sense of loss at leaving your home behind, along with your parents who weren't even in the ground yet.

"That sounds like a good plan. Especially since they just put a warrant out for my parents deaths." You said, before taking a bite of the burger.

"Yeah, and who did they say did it?" Dean asked, his mouth full.

You had a pair of hazel eyes, along with a pair of green staring at you expectedly, waiting for your answer. Taking a deep breath, you flickered your eyes between both men, men who were beginning to grow on you. "Me." You answered.

"You?" Dean choked on his hamburger, and you rushed over, patting him on the back until he could breathe normally. Sam didn't say anything, but dropped his chicken wrap to open his laptop. 

"Yeah, Cas and I were watching the news, and they found my parents. With my bronco there, and my fingerprints on their bodies, I guess it was an easy conclusion. But what am I going to do? I'm not a criminal?" You asked, feeling your emotions you had been trying to keep down, rising back to the surface.

Dean pulled you in between his legs, wrapping you in a hug. It was a little awkward, with him sitting down, and your body stiffening from the surprise contact, but it worked to calm you down, at least a little. Pulling back you wiped away the spare tear that had fallen down.

"Don't worry. Sammy and I have been wanted for murder for multiple times. Hell, we've even been wanted by the FBI. We'll help keep you out of their grasp." He said, and you gasped at him.

"Seriously? You're wanted criminals?" You asked, wondering, not for the first time, what you had gotten yourself into. They seemed trustworthy, but you could never tell these days.

"Our job, it isn't pretty. And sometimes people think we are killing normal human beings instead of monsters. I guess it's part of the job." Dean explained, as Sam turned his laptop so all of you could see what was on the screen. It was a picture of you, one probably taken from the house, from your parents anniversary party a couple of years ago. You looked happy and carefree in it, your h/c thrown over your shoulder, a twinkle to your e/c eyes.

Dean whistled, earning another frown from Sam. "What? She looks hot in that picture!" Dean argued, and you found yourself blushing once again, which never happened until you had met these guys. You read on, about how witnesses had seen you and two other guys leaving the house in a black car, with blood on your clothes.

"Damn it." Dean muttered, dropping the rest of his hamburger in the trash. 

"I think we need to get moving. And fast." Sam said, shutting his laptop before standing up, and moving over to his bag. 

"Where are we going?" You asked them as they began to furiously pack their belongings. 

"To Bobby's. His house is probably the safest for you right now." Sam answered, giving you a reassuring smile. "You'll love him. He's like a father to us."