Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural. I am just a fan who enjoys the show and has a vivid imagination. If you read this, please review. Be it praise, suggestions as to where to go with the story, or complaints, I am open to it all. (If there is something that you don't like, please be respectful when you tell me. Im open to constructive critiscism. It only makes us better writers!) I hope you enjoy! Smooches- Kat

"You are such a dick!" Sam exclaimed to his brother. "We have been listening to the same mullet rock BS for the past 5 hours. Can't you just try to…" Sam's voice trailed off. "Why is a young girl walking on the side of the road in the dark?"

Dean hadn't been paying attention to his brother's whining. He saw the girl before Sam did. She was petite, wearing dark jeans, a black leather jacket that hung to her knees, and black boots with 5 inch silver stiletto heels…

"I don't know, Sammy. But I can see that those boots weren't meant for walking," a smirk curled his lips. "We can see if she needs a ride. It's about 60 miles to the nearest town."

The Impala rolled to a stop and the engine halted. The girl glanced over her shoulder, anxious. Who the fuck were these two boneheads? And what did they want?

"Miss? Are you okay? Do you need a ride?" Sam asked. Trying to sound soothing and concerned, flashing his best puppy eyes. She was quite lovely; he didn't want to frighten her.

"I don't take rides with strange men. I'll be fine, but thank you anyway." She had tried to sound as bitchy as she could. Fear creeping through her veins. What were they thinking? Were they delinquents or 'nice' guys? If she needed to, could she fight them? An expert at hand to hand combat, she had felled many men with one hit, but these two had an ire about them. The passenger looked sweet enough, but the driver…He looked like he had just stepped out of an old James Dean movie. He had a cocky smirk and his green eyes looked older than his years. He was a man who had seen and done things.

"Look. We are just trying to help you out. It is 60 miles to the nearest town, and a young girl like you doesn't need to be on a dark highway. But if you want to act all bitchy and walk alone in the dark, that's on you," Dean said as he started up the engine.

It would be nice to sit down, she thought. And they were really cute…the driver with a chiseled face. His short hair messy, but cut like a military man…memories. The passenger was like a puppy, adorable. He had dimples and a baby face, but those broad shoulders….She didn't know if it was fatigue or raging hormones that changed her mind. Of course, she always had protection: a 9mm strapped to her thigh, a silver dagger on her ankle, and a backpack full of other surprises. Worse comes to worse, shot 'em.

"Hey, wait!" She sashayed to the car. She had been told her walk was hypnotizing. The way her rounded hips swayed to a rhythm only she could hear. For a short girl, baby walked like a dancer. "I didn't mean to be hateful. I've been walking for a week. A lady can't be too careful. There are monsters out there…" her face was calm, but her eyes glinted with a hidden amusement. If only they knew, she mused. Something in her gut told her they just might.

"We understand. Let me help you with your bag," Sam said, getting out of the car. He felt odd. When the girl, woman, he corrected himself, spoke, it was smooth, sultry. Without trying, she had seduced him with her voice, so warm, with a slight southern drawl. He imagined what his name would sound like as she called it out… Dean had been searching for a clear radio station and hadn't heard her voice. But as she climbed in the car, he could smell her scent: jasmine with a hint of something…it was a deep, almost spicy scent. No perfume could mimic that, it was her, raw and natural. It made a heat creep into his groin.

"Everybody settled?" once his brother had shut the door. Then he turned around to the girl in the back. "My name is Dean. This is my brother, Sammy."

"Ugh! It's Sam. I haven't been Sammy since I was 8."

"Alright, Sammy."

"Dean!'

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dean and Sam," she smiled, shaking their large, calloused hands. She could feel both men holding back, controlling strength that could have crushed her delicate fingers. It was clear that they weren't accustomed to shaking a lady's hand. "I am Katherine Sebastina Cristos. You can call Kay."

"I'm guessing your parents are Catholic?" Dean quipped. "That's a helluva name."

"I was named after St. Katherine, the patron saint of the ill and injured and St. Sebastian, the patron saint of soldiers. Cristos is my father's family name. Do you have last names, Dean and Sam?'

"Winchester." They spoke in unison. Holy crap! Dean looked at his brother. If their Dad were alive, he would slap them both. First rule: never tell a stranger your real name.

"Let's roll." Dean flashed a smile towards Kay as the Impala growled on the shoulder, spitting gravel as he pulled out.

The 60 miles to town was an eternity. Both boys had been eyeing the woman, trying to figure her out. She had a small, delicate frame. It belied her age. At around 5 ft, and 100lbs soaking wet, Kay looked more like a teenager swimming in the leather jacket than a woman. She had taken the jacket off and draped it over her lap to reveal a figure that was all woman…and a 9mm tethered to her right thigh. She had lean, catlike muscles. Her every movement was graceful and controlled, like a well choreographed ballet. She had large, perky breasts which strained against the fabric of her black, long sleeved v-neck shirt. The jeans hugged every curve of her firm, athletic legs. She had short, auburn hair, tousled like she had just rolled out of bed after a long session of…

"DEAN!!"

Sam's cry had woken Dean from his daydream just in time to narrowly avoid a head on collision with a semi, not again. "FUCK ME!!" Dean exclaimed. "I'm sorry! I guess I dozed," he lied.

Sam told him to pull over, that he would drive. Sam needed to drive, to get his mind off of her. She mesmerized him. They switched drivers.

"So what's with the gun?" Dean turned to face her.

"One can never be too careful. My dad gave it to me a long time ago after I was mugged. I never go anywhere without it." She flashed a mischievous smile. "Does it make you nervous?"

"Not at all. I've always liked a woman that can take care of herself, "he winked. Was she blushing?

"Wake me when we get to town." Kay curled into a ball, her leather jacket a blanket. And she slept. Dean leaned against the window and fell asleep, lips curled in a satisfied grin.

Sam was lost in thought behind the wheel. He knew his brother. Dean had been fantasizing about Kay's body when he crossed into oncoming traffic. So had he, sort of. While she was exquisite, her body was not what same was thinking of. It was her face, her eyes in particular. She had flawless alabaster skin. It looked as soft as silk. He just wanted to touch and caress it. He knew her delicate skin would be repulsed at his rough, calloused hands. He regretted not using lotion more often. He made a mental not to buy some at the next store. So what if Dean called him a girl. It would be worth it. She had rosebud lips, perfectly formed, so kissable and full. DSL's as Dean would call them. He wondered what it would taste like to kiss those lips...strawberries or honey. Then there were her eyes. Bedroom eyes. Perfectly almond shaped with long heavy lashes. He had already noticed that she observed everything through those lashes. She seemed self-conscious and he could not figure out why. When she did look directly into your eyes, it was breathtaking. She had clear, vibrant green eyes with tiny flecks of gold in them. Her eyes were full of compassion, sadness, and determination. Her face, as angelic as it was, could be calm and emotionless, but those eyes told the story. She gave herself with those eyes, and took everything you had at the same time. She saw into your soul and didn't judge.

They drove. And drove. "Was that sign right? This is a long ass 60 miles," Dean grumbled. He was right. It did seem long. Had they past the exit? And they drove. She slept. Dean gazed back at her. Why was it that when he looked at her, his heart skipped a beat? Why did he feel so calm, so comfortable, so at peace? It freaked him out, but he couldn't stop looking at the delicate china doll in his back seat. He felt protective of her. He didn't know why or how, but he felt a primal want, a NEED, to make sure she was safe.

At 3 a.m., they found another town. Why they couldn't find the first was unknown. Who cared? They were exhausted. The hunt from 48 hours ago had taken everything. The poltergeist had tossed the boys around like ragdolls. Dean had dislocated his shoulder, been thrown through a window, and broken one maybe two fingers. Sam had a concussion, a split lip, and a cut that ran the length of his thigh. His stitches were itching like crazy and he just wanted a shower.

Dean looked down at the sleeping woman. He didn't have the heart to wake her, so he lifted her in his arms. Her head fit just right in against his chest. She snuggled closer in her sleep, a little smile crossing her face. Must be a good dream, Dean chuckled to himself. "Hey! Sam. Can you grab the bags? Throw one over my shoulder, she is so damn tiny! Dude, you were bigger than her at 9!"

"I was chubby back then. That is still a touchy subject for me, you jerk!"

"I still luv ya, bitch."

"You are such an ass. Go get inside."

The room had two queen beds, a roll out couch, a kitchenette, and a large bathroom. It was not as sleazy or rundown as most of the places they had stayed in. Dean hadn't wanted Kay to wake up in a no tell motel thinking the boys had done something to her while she slept.

"I'll take the couch, Sammy."

"You need the bed. You got thrown out of a window," the younger brother protested.

"Dude, I said I would take the couch. Now get your Sasquatch ass in the shower, so I can get cleaned up too. Don't use all the hot water!"

Sam started to argue, but the look in Dean's eyes told him to back off. He still had the girl in his arms. "If you wake her with your whiney, bitchass comments, I will kick your ass." Sam could see he meant it. He huffed off to the bathroom.

Dean laid the girl gently on the bed. She stirred briefly. The neck of her shirt slid down and Dean caught a glimpse of something that made his blood boil. Scars. They ran down her exposed neck to places under the shirt he didn't know. Horrible scars, like she had been caught in a fire, or worse, tortured. He remembered the scar stained bodies from Hell, his included. When he was pulled from the pit, they had been erased, save the handprint on his shoulder...A constant reminder of a destiny he didn't want... What, who, could have done that to such a beautiful, delicate creature? She radiated warmth and kindness. In that moment, he made up his mind. He would find what had done that to her, make it suffer, and then spend the rest of his time on Earth making sure it never happened again. Regardless of if she wanted him around, he would be there, her guardian, her protector.

That was how Sam found Dean 30 minutes later. He was sitting beside Kay, staring at her. Memorizing her. "What are you doing?"

"Hush, nothing. I'm going to hit the shower."

Sam had misinterpreted the look in his brother's eyes. He thought Dean wanted to get the girl in bed like he does with every other barfly. Sam would not allow that to happen. That girl was special. There was something inside him, perhaps the psychic, which told him she was different. He could not let his brother screw around with her emotions, her heart like he did with every other woman. This girl deserved better, and Sam could give it to her.

The brothers had fitful sleep that night. Neither would admit it, but they both dreamt of her. The smell of fresh coffee and homemade cinnamon rolls roused them from slumber. The shower was on and humming came from the slightly cracked door. There was no fan in the bathroom so to release the heat and steam; the door had to be opened a little. "You two awake?"

"Yeah..." they groaned. It was so early.

"I made breakfast. I wanted to say thank you for the ride and for letting me stay here last night. I haven't slept in a real bed in a while."

The boys glanced at each other. Both blushing, neither wanting to let the other know they desperately wanted to open the door and take a closer look. It was Sam who grabbed Dean's arm and lead him to the kitchenette. "Don't you dare! She isn't some waitress from the run down diner or a drunken barfly."

"RELAX, Sammy. I would never disrespect a lady like that! Besides, she made breakfast and coffee! That's a girl you keep for a while!" Dean winked. Just great. Sam had a crush. Dean didn't want to admit, he did too.

"Dammit! Um, can you two turn you heads? I dropped my shirt on the way to the bathroom."

Their eyes widened and darted towards her bed. There it laid a white shirt. They looked at each other, "a small peek?" They nodded. There is only so much temptation that a man can take...

"Come on out, "Dean called. His voice deep and throaty with want. They turned their back and grinned. The door creaked and footsteps could faintly be heard crossing the room. Both men glanced over their shoulders and where struck with horror at what they saw: scars marred her body like a road map. There were tattoos on her arms, angelic symbols- blessings, protection, and anti-possession. She pulled the long sleeve shirt over her head. It snuggly fit her form and hid the tragedy.

"It's safe. You can look." Her skin was fresh and dewy, almost glowing. Her face was untouched, flawless, like sanctified ground, evil had not touched that beautiful face.

Kay turned to see that the guys were already facing her. Their faces were pale, their eyes full of pity. "You two look like you've seen a ghost." She knew what they had seen: the remnants of her life. The scars she bore like a badge of honor, each one a story of its own. The tattoos were a Gift from her Father. How could she explain the gruesome scene without completely freaking them out?

"I guess you took a peek." Her voice was shaky. Damn, why did she feel so dizzy? She tried to walk towards them. Her knees buckled and stars flew before her eyes.

Sam and Dean stared in shock as the childlike woman in front of them turned to face them. What had happened to her? Who was she? The tattoos were obvious symbols of protection. But only hunters and those that were hunted knew of such things. Was this fragile flower a hunter? They had never heard her name mentioned from any of their kind. Bobby had been a hunter for ages and knew almost everyone or had some sort of connection with everyone. Why would he not mention such an exquisite beauty to them? He always had a comment about a pretty face.

Dean's blood had turned ice cold. He saw Kay's lips moving but heard nothing. He just wanted to find what had hurt her and make it suffer. He had an instinctive feeling of possession towards her. He had never believed in love at first sight, but if he did, this might be the case. His heart sank as he saw the color drain from her face. She knew they had seen. Was it fear in her eyes? No. No. No. He would not let her be afraid of him. He started to move towards her. He wanted to hold her, to let her know that she had someone to lean on. A gasp escaped his lips as he watched her collapse. He tried to catch her but she hit the floor. Hard. And lay still.

Sam felt the lump come in his throat. He could feel the burn of tears in his eyes. His heart ached at the sight of such suffering. It took everything he could muster not to cry out: Who did this? I want his head on a platter! As he saw the realization of what the boys had seen cross her face, he felt instant guilt and remorse. It was apparent that Kay was insecure about her scars. How could he be so disrespectful to look when she had asked them not too? He stepped towards her to apologize, and watched in agony as she crumbled to the floor.

Within seconds, the brothers were at her side. Dean cradled her in his arms. "CLEAR OFF THE DAMN BED AND GET SOME WATER!" he barked at same. The hurricane of emotion spewed from his mouth. He carried her to the bed and gently stroked her cheek. "Kay? Kay? Wake up. Open your eyes!" He felt for her pulse. Steady. That's a good sign. The color had not come back to her face. "Where is the damn water, SAM!"

"Here! I have a wet towel. Wipe her face. Maybe that will wake her up." Sam's hands shook as he passed the glass of water. He had no reason to care so much, but the longer her eyes were closed, the more his heart screamed in pain.

The icy towel sent a shock through her body. "What the F?" She jerked awake. What had happened? Why was Dean holding her so tight? And why was Sam holding her hand? "Okay…what are you two doing? And why am I in bed?"

"You passed out. How are you feeling?" Sam's gentle voice was calm. His hazel eyes full of concern.

"I'm fine. You can let me go now, Dean." The look in his eyes told her he didn't want to let go. He wanted to make sure she was safe. And for the first time in a very long time, she did. In his arms with Sam holding her hand, she felt like she had finally come home.

Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think with a review. I listen and take suggestions, so if you think it could be better with something added, let me know. Smooches.