A/N: Hey there. Just something quick I wrote because I love this universe and Marion Hood is such an awesome writer. So this is some kind of an experiment and maybe a chance for me to start writing again, because the people that know me are probably sharpening their pitchforks and buying torches to hunt me. Let me know what you think. Thank you in advance.

WARNING: I don't know if I will continue this... and as ever: I am looking for someone to help me finish it - like Sherlock with his skull I need someone to tell me you are out of your mind or on the right path - , but furthermore beta it. English isn't my mother tongue and I hate when a reader has to cringe just reading my story.

But most importantly: ENJOY!


The steam of the coffee Styrofoam cup in front of her lets her sunglasses cloud a bit and tickles her red nose. It's April in America and she is somehow lost. Lost in herself definitely, but also in a past she can't even cry about anymore and in one goal someone she didn't even believe in before she met him put like lead on her shoulders. Angels, … she thinks with an edge of bitterness that she regrets as soon as she feels the prickle on her skin.

"Sorry…", she mutters to no one in particular and something about the whole situation lets her chuckle with her barely used voice. The sound is strange in her own ears; behind her glasses she catches some stares of the other people waiting for the bus in the cold and wet air of the shelter as well which range from concern, to confusion and lastly and mostly disgust. So to hide herself a bit better, she pulls the hood of her pullover over her head and pulls the sleeves of her leather jacket further down her hands to her knuckles. A gleam catches her eye for a moment; a cheap reminder of a childhood long gone but a cherished one none the less. Her thump caresses the ring for a second before she pulls herself away from memories dangerous enough to let her lose her mind.

The door to the shelter screeches open and her eyes zoom in on the person entering. Her mouth pulls into a frown – just the person she was waiting for. She cheers inwardly. Line, hook and sinker he fell for the blonde bitch he throws a boyish smile to. Don't be stupid, boy… she thinks bit is aware that all thought warnings wouldn't get her anywhere. The bitch uses the mirroring technic, an old trick used to flirt and he falls for it. Hunters these days…

But their interaction isn't what she is here for she reminded herself. A friendly laugh just for the show reaches her ears. Demon, her insides screeches and the laughter of the meeting pair pierces the used air around her again. How could an intelligent strapping lad like him be so freaking obvious, she asks herself not for the first time.

She watches them and bid her time. Maybe she should take care to present him with a few symbols someone like him, with this past – brother and father and her… nevermind – would recognize immediately and that would plant a seed of trust in him. What would be in her for someone to trust her she didn't question because it wasn't important for her job.

Do something, the angelic force tells her and she grits her teeth against the onslaught of the sweet mixture of pain and pleasure down her back. All in due time, she thinks back and knows without seeing his face that he isn't pleased with her.

"All in due time…", she mutters and averts her eyes when the blonde bitch looks over the hunter's shoulder directly to her.


"Oh, excuse me…" He says and his voice is a mixture of adorable innocence and too many rough edges for someone his age. Concentrate, she reminds herself. She pushes her dark brown hair back a bit and lets him see the tattoo on her neck. His narrowed eyes let her nearly smile.

"No prob. Whatcha doing here?" She asks and finds herself wondering that she can so easily fall back into the slang of her land of birth. She knows he is confused why he even should answer a totally foreign person like her and to make things a bit easier, she lets her forefinger hidden in the poket of her leather jaket circle just once. She hated to manipulate but the situation screams for it... death or life and all that drama.

"Just waiting for a bus to get to Florida.", he smiles slightly and she had expected to find dimples, but there aren't any. Pity that, he seems like the kind of guy… concentrate. She reminded herself again.

"Florida? Don't you have a job to go to, Sammy?" She asks because fooling around wasn't her kind of style.

"How'd you know…" He begins, taking a step back and narrowing his eyes at her further.

"The question you should ask is why a blonde bitch like her –" she throws a look over her shoulder and tells herself to not say too much – damn obligations to Angels - "Is more important to you than your brother who is asking himself for the umpteenth time if he should call you because he is out of his mind with worry for you and too many self-loathing thoughts because he dragged you back into this game."

"How… what…" She places a comforting hand on his arm, throws back the hood with the other hand and lets him see her clear eyes.

"Go back, Sammy. Your life isn't perfect – you and your brother have far too much on your shoulders as it is – but he loves you and most importantly, you two need each other. More than you can imagine. And more than you might think possible in the future." For a moment her voice sounds wistful and she clears her throat, her eyes zooming in on him again. He looks confused and out of his depth, but slightly convinced as well. A sigh leaves her lips when she begins to recognize his decision.

She can't suppress the frown that pulls around her eyebrows and mouth when she throws another short glance in the demon's direction. That has to do it…, she thinks to herself, lets his arm go and pulls her duffle bag over her shoulder. She turns to the door with measured steps and looks over her shoulder when she is about to leave this freaking shelter in friggin no-where.

"Are you coming?" She asks him and smiles crookedly when he nods with determination glinting in his eyes. She leads him to her car and thinks to herself that they definitely have to do something about his too trusting nature. That just wouldn't do in the long run.

She opens the trunk of her darling and pushes the button for the mechanism to close the hidden compartment to hide well… her life and who she really is. Putting down her duffle bag she waits for Sam to reach her. For the first time she recognizes their difference in height and smiles slightly.

"Aren't you going to leave?" He asks her when he stands uncertainly next to her. She huffs slightly and shakes her head decisively.

"Nope-" she pops the p "I will make sure you reach Dean in time." He frowns but nods and puts his duffle next to hers.

"Nice car." He says and maybe growing up with a dad and a brother head over heels for one Impala he recognizes love for a car because it means more than a means to drive somewhere.

"Thanks." She says and turns down the volume of the music. Sam chuckles next to her.

"If I wasn't completely sure it is impossible, I would think you were Dean." He says, a rueful and charmingly honest smile on his face.

"Huh…" she says intelligently throwing him a short glance out of the corner of her eyes.

"Why is that?" She continues to make him feel more comfortable.

"He is all about classic rock and muscle cars – just like you it seems." She hums to that and concentrates on the road. Checking the time her hands grip the steering wheel more forcefully and she urges her darling to reach new speed records. She sees his eyes widen a bit and controls her features to not show how afraid she is to come too late.

"Is he in danger?" Sammy asks, slightly turning to her and maybe she underestimated him because he seems to be able to read her body language just fine. Before she can answer a frown appears on his boyishly handsome face.

"What's your name by the way?" He asks and the question is so random she is taken aback a second to only laugh hollowly afterwards for a bit.

"Mya." She says without looking to him.

"Mya…" He lets the not really question hang in the air between them. Before she can snap at him she takes a deep breath but her voice sounds pressed and too full of something for her own liking.

"Just Mya. It isn't of importance. We have to reach your brother or god help me…" She cynically whispers the last part but James Hetfield's awesome voice drowns out hers.


She pulls over to the grove. The Impala stands directly infront of her car and something in the region of her heart pulls painfully. It's not fully dark yet but their time is running out too fast for her liking and that alone makes her concentrate on the here and now. She opens the door forcefully and silently apologizes for the abuse of her poor car.

"Hurry along, Sammy. We don't have time to waste." Mya says clearly and opens the trunk to pull his duffle out of it and search it for his salt rounds and pumpgun. When she finds it, she presses it into his calloused hands that were half a year ago occupied with writing essays for his university curriculum and now were used to save his brother… hopefully. Next she pulls a zippo out of her pocket, her thumb lovingly caressing the worn rune on it.

"How do you…"

"Not again with the questions, Sammy. Just go." She answers, pressing the zippo into his hand. They hear yells in the distance and maybe he recognizes the voice of his brother because a second later and without a backwards glance he starts to run in the direction he needs to. Unconsciously she breathes a sigh of relief and a warm tickling down her spine lets her know that someone up there is grateful. She looks up into the rabidly darkening sky and sees carnis major – Sirius. One more life to settle the score.

Before she hits the road again, she carries Sam's duffle to his brother's car, a real beauty if she ever saw one. A handy little trick later and the trunk of the Impala opens with a small screak. Her lips form a small smile when she sees the weapons the brothers use before she puts Sam's belongings back where they used to be – right next to his brother. Her card vanishes into John's journal. They would need her sooner or later – that was everything she knew at the moment. Closing the trunk she hears shouts in the distance before a big fire seems to consume the First Tree. Good riddance, she thinks, because old Pagan gods were never her piece of cake.


Tell me what you think! Thanks for reading.