(A.N. This is probably my 3rd time re-doing this story. To all those who stuck with me, thank you so much! Just bear with me one more time! I would really appreciate everyone's input!)

3:00 a.m. Sunday, January 9th,2011

What should have been a night too thick and too bleak to wander in was brightened by a layer of fresh fallen snow. Streetlights gleamed off of the tiny crystals, their light accompanying them as they drifted lazily to the freezing concrete and asphalt to meet with the other flakes that had fallen before. The plow had not yet had its chance to scoop up the fallen snow and taint it with the black stains of the street and sidewalk it rested on. The only things that agitated the white crystals were two men, two sets of large footprints along the sidewalk.

Their eyelids were heavy with the weight of another late night, wanting nothing more than to sleep this one off like they had so many before. The shorter of the two had a fresh scratch on his face that looked like it had stopped bleeding no more than three minutes ago. The taller one had a small stain of blood on his left sleeve but he seemed uninjured. It didn't seem to be the blood of the other man but that would lead to the question of whose blood it really was. They wore heavy jackets to ward off the cold but it still seemed to pierce them to the bone. Their crappy motel felt so far away, yet it was just around the next block.

"How're you feeling, Dean?" The taller man asked.

"Fine… can't believe that thing got the jump on me." He was clearly frustrated, unable to get the scene out of his mind. He thought up at least ten situations in which he could have gotten out without a scratch and without the help of the taller man. Looking at the two of them just walking down the street, it was clear they were brothers. Not from family resemblance but from something much deeper than that.

"Hey, at least you made it out."

"Right…" The response was half-hearted. He wasn't even sure he wanted to make it out anymore. He would never tell his brother, but sometimes, he longed for the day that his heart would come to a stop and he could finally see the people, his friends, that had long since been gone before him.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a slight bump against his right thigh. A shape moved passed him, running.

"Hey!" Dean yelled after the shape, still irritable. "Watch out!" But the person didn't even pause to look back. It was at that moment that he realized his pants seemed a little lighter. His hand flew to his right back pocket and he realized his wallet was gone. "Son of a bitch!" He shouted louder than ever as he took off after the thief. "Hurry up, Sam!"

Sam looked off after his brother, not even fully sure what was happening. All he knew is that they weren't getting back to the motel anytime soon and that caused a distinct sinking feeling in his gut. He ran behind his brother anyway.

Dean ran after the thief for at least a mile before he watched them take a sudden turn into an alleyway. He followed suit and noticed that it was a dead-end and let out a sigh of relief. They both came to a slow stop and the thief turned to look at Dean. Growing a triumphant smirk, he said, "Now where are you gonna go? Just give me back my wallet and we can pretend this never happened." This was a lie. He intended to make this person pay for trying to steal from a Winchester.

The figure had been wearing a lighter coat than the brothers with the hood pulled up tight. They now removed the hood, revealing medium length auburn hair and the strangest eyes Dean had ever seen. The left one was an icy blue that made you feel ten degrees colder just by looking into it. The other was a piercing green that made everyone want to look away before this kid somehow might read their thoughts. But there was something else. When Dean looked into those eyes, he saw suffering. Someone who was on the verge of weeping every second of every day but had too much pride and stupidity that they had mistaken for strength to do it. They were the eyes Dean saw every time he looked in the mirror. But, there was genuine kindness behind them. It took him a second to finally look away from those eyes, his smirk long faded. It was only then that he realized the thief was a girl who couldn't have been more than sixteen.

"You don't want to do this." The girl said. There was desperation hidden in the voice. It almost sounded like a warning.

"What's your name?" Dean asked with uncharacteristic softness, watching her movements. He saw the confused look on her face which caused him to have one in return. That was when Sam came running around the corner. He had lost them for a while, not seeing them turn the corner into the alley. He finally heard the voices and was able to find them.

"What's going on?" He asked, in between breaths, stopping next to his brother. Dean glanced at Sam, and judging by the look on his face, he could tell that he had noticed those eyes too. Maybe not on the same level as Dean himself, but good enough. Dean suddenly remembered what they were here for.

"Look, just give me my wallet, kid."

The thief looked down at her hand where Dean recognized the small object as his wallet. She looked back up at him and just shook her head. Without another word, the girl begin to run at Dean, who was preparing to grab her but at the last second she spun off to the right and leaped on top of a frozen dumpster that resided in the alley. Sam grabbed at her next but before he could, she leaped again, gripping the bottom rung of the fire escape ladder that led up to the zigzagging platforms and staircases that gave access the apartment building it was attached to. Almost losing her grasp because of the icy rung, she held tighter, knuckles white from the strain. She pulled herself up in one quick movement until she was on the first platform. Glancing down at the men who looked like they were about to attempt the same feat, she decided it wasn't a good idea to climb to the roof and get herself cornered.

Looking at the wall that ended the alleyway, she ran to the edge of the platform, got a firm foot on the railing and jumped. Before either Sam or Dean knew it, she was up and over the wall and they knew they wouldn't catch her. Dean let out a long, loud curse.

1:00 p.m.

Dean finally woke up from very few hours of sleep. The brothers didn't get back to their motel room until 5 o'clock in the morning and Dean couldn't get to sleep until 10. Sam was out like a light as almost as soon as they got back, but he wasn't the one who got his wallet stolen, Dean thought resentfully. Sam was already up and ready for the day which annoyed Dean more than it should have.

"Already doing research, poindexter?"

"Actually yeah, Dean. Wanna help?"

"I'll pass. Thanks though." His voiced dripped with sarcasm.

He showered and got put on his cleanest dirty shirt and some fresh pants. He pulled on his thick jacket before heading out the door to brush snow off of his 67' Chevy Impala, also known as "his baby". Once he finished getting her all cleaned up, he walked back inside to grab Sam.

"C'mon, Sammy. Let's grab some breakfast. I'm starving."

"Don't you mean lunch?" His brother asked with an amused half smile.

"Whatever. I just know I'm hungry and I need food."

Sam didn't argue with that and within minutes, they were in the car, looking for a good place to eat. Sam noticed that his brother seemed elsewhere.

"You aren't trying to find the girl are you?" He asked carefully, not wanting to set Dean off.

"What? No, of course not. Just looking for a place to eat."

"This is the third time we've circled this block…"

"Just making sure we aren't missing anything good." Dean retorted, shooting an annoyed glance at Sam.

"Fine. Wake me up when you find something then." He said, sounding just as annoyed.

A few more minutes passed before Dean let out a quiet sigh and parked the car in front of some dingy, cheap sandwich place. "Hope you know you're paying."

Sam just rolled his eyes as he got out of the car and suddenly froze, staring into the window of the restaurant.

"What's the matter with you?" Dean asked, about to get out of the car until he noticed his brother's sudden paralysis.

"How in the hell did you do this?" Sam asked him. This made Dean finally follow Sam's gaze in the tiny shop and he saw her. The thief from last night sitting on the bar stool as a waitress delivered a basket of food to her. Dean jumped out of the car, closing the door quickly and making his way to the glass door of the sandwich shop that sported a black sign with red letters that said "Push".

Sam shut the car door and ran up behind Dean, grabbing his arm. "What are you going to do? Go in there and expect her to just give you your wallet back? That isn't going to work, Dean."

"It's not about the damn wallet anymore, Sam!" He jerked his arm away, leaving a speechless, confused Sam behind him.

Dean pushed the shop door open, causing a small bell on top of the door to jingle. The sound caught the casual attention of the girl taking a large bite of the dripping, greasy sandwich in front of her. She glanced over at the door and when she saw Dean, she nearly choked as she jumped out of the chair. She put her hands up, palms facing Dean, trying to get him to keep his distance.

Once she was able, she said, "You're mad… I get it." She took a few steps back as he took one forward. "But, I really can't stay."

"Don't ru-" Dean couldn't even finish his sentence before he watched the girl dive over the counter, landing on her feet. Without missing a step, she sprinted out the "employees only" door, through the kitchen, almost taking one of the waiters down as she ran past. Dean on the other hand, did take one of the waiters down as he tried to chase after her. This led to the man screaming, "Don't kill me, dude! Please, don't hurt me!"

Dean paid no more attention to the college aged man as he scrambled to his feet and continued after the girl.

She ran out through the Exit door and began running down the street, slowing down just enough to glance behind to see if Dean was still chasing her. She smiled slightly when she saw that he was, but he wasn't even close to catching her. That was when she ran into something that felt like a brick wall. It knocked all the wind out of her, causing her to struggle to take in the air that she suddenly lost. The wall grunted and gave way a few steps. That was when she realized that it was Sam. She would have cursed but she didn't have enough air to do so. Before she could run again, Sam had his arms around her tightly, making it even harder to breathe and impossible to get away.

Dean came up, breathing hard. "She's like a damn monkey!"