You crushed out your cigarette under your shoe.

"So what now?" Sam looked at you sadly.

"You'll have to come with us to America now." Your mind whirred over this fact and the speed at which your life was changing.

"Leave here? For how long?" Dean cleared his throat.

"We don't know. Months. Years. Maybe. It depends on what the Angels want with you."

"I know this is a lot to take in. And leaving your home is going to be hard –" Sam stopped talking when he seen the huge smile that had spread over your face. "You're not upset?" You shook you head.

"Are you kidding? I get to leave this shithole? Lets go!" Taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm the men just stared at you. You rolled your E/C eyes and headed for your car. With his long legs Sam quickly caught up with you.

"Seriously? You're okay with this? Leaving everything behind?" You spun around to face him.

"Just for a second, imagine living in this crappy town your whole life. Where everyone knows everything about you. And they make the rest up anyway. I don't fit in here. I never have. And now you've just given me the opportunity to escape!" There was a slight pause after your outburst before Dean clapped his hands together and smirked.

"Well alrighty then, lead the way Y/N." You pulled your keys from your pocket and unlocked the door to your little car. Dean burst into hysterical laughter.

"What's so funny?" You glared at him. After seeing your icy expression his laughter died.

"That's what you drive?" You narrowed your eyes at him before climbing in.

"Don't insult her car Dean." Sam murmured under his breath.

"You can hardly call it a car." Dean said under his breath. Watching them in the mirror you saw Dean walk around the side of the car and open the passenger door.

"No." You barked. Dean bent down to look at you, startled. "Blue eyes can go in the front."

"Cas?" Dean exclaimed in disbelief. Your E/C eyes met his green ones in defiance. He groaned in frustration.

"After you feathers". Castiel slid in beside you with the ghost of a smile on his lips. You waited for Sam and Dean to fold themselves into the back before starting the engine. The suspension of the small old car squealed in protest at the extra weight as you floored it. You heard Dean mutter something under his breath. Choosing to ignore it you pressed play on the tape player, delighted when "Whiksey in the Jar" by "Thin Lizzy" started blaring. You missed the nod of approval from Dean at your music taste and the look of despair from Sam.

In under five minutes your car had screeched to a stop outside your house and you jumped out. Castiel stood silently looking up at your home while the brothers – your brothers – fought their way out of the car.

"Grab what you need and say goodbye." Sam said gently. You took a deep breath and walked into your house.


1 hour later


You had rammed as much as you could into your holdall. It was mostly clothes, a few books, your laptop and a photo album of you and your mum. Your makeup and straighteners followed although you weren't sure there would be much need for them. You walked into the living room where the boys were waiting.

When you had been busy in your room the boys had rooted around in your house gathering as much knowledge as they could to try and figure you out. You were proud of your home. It was warm and welcoming, you tried to keep it as tidy as possible. They hadn't found a lot however. A few photo's here and there, drawings, and a good collection of music.

"Done?" Dean asked, looking from your holdall to you.

"Done." You breathed glancing around uncertainly. Every memory of your life here came flooding into your mind. Sitting on the couch with mum watching Disney movies with an obscene amount of popcorn. Hanging stockings above the fireplace on Christmas eve. Baking cookies in the kitchen singing along (badly) to Tom Jones.

"You okay Y/N?" Sam asked quietly. You looked up at him and plastered a grin on your face.

"I'm fine." Even though everyone in the room knew you were lying they accepted your answer without question. Castiel walked over to you, his cobalt eyes bore into yours and you suddenly felt very calm.

"This may feel a little strange." He warned you. You stared up at him and took a deep breath. He placed his cool fingers on your forehead. You felt your stomach drop and your eyes squeezed shut. The floor slipped away from under your feet, it wasn't falling, and it wasn't floating. It was as though you were under water, being pushed and pulled by a forces until you no longer knew which way was up.

Nausea rose in your throat and a pressure pushed at your temples. Your hand squeezed tighter around your bag and you prayed for it to be over. You needed to throw up.

Suddenly the whirling stopped and you had solid ground beneath your feet. Your eyes popped open and your knees buckled at the suddenness. Strong arms gripped you tight and held you upright. You gasped and clutched the angels arm.

"Sorry." He murmured.

Feeling steadier you glanced around. You were standing in an unfamiliar kitchen. You wrinkled your nose. This place could definitely do with an airing and a tidy. It smelled of men and grease and rotten eggs. Two men had their backs to you and appeared to be arguing over whatever they were cooking at the time.

"Are you sure it's supposed to look like that? What was it you said? Lambs guts?" The shorter man who was, for some reason, dressed in a suit sighed and bit back.

"I know what I'm bloody doing you hillbilly now just bloody leave it alone!" His British accent surprised you. Cas cleared his throat and the two men spun around. The older looking man held a carving knife outstretched and the Brit faced you wielding a Spatula.

"Bobby, Crowley; This is Y/N." You felt a slight breath of air and heard a fluttering and the angel had disappeared. You stared at the space next to you in shock before your gaze rested on the two men in front of you. You nodded your head.

"Hello." Bobby grinned at you.

"Well hello, the name's Bobby. We were just making some food, make yourself at home, wings should be back with them eejits soon. You want a beer or anything?" You felt yourself warm to him quickly. He had an old fashioned, no nonsense air about him. You sat down at the table with a heavy thump.

"Don't suppose there's any chance of a whiskey?" You joked. The shorter man, Crowley, smirked and produced a bottle from seemingly thin air.

"Single malt alright princess?" He said in a seductive voice. Your eyebrows rose as you regarded him again carefully. Expensive looking Italian shoes and a handmade suit made with a materiel that was the darkest shade of black you'd ever seen. The look was only partially thrown off by the apron he was wearing that featured the body of a bikini clad woman.

"Sounds braw." You murmured. "So are you an angel as well?" But somehow you knew he wasn't. There was something about him that made you think he wasn't an angel at all. Crowleys lips twisted into a grin as he poured the whiskey into a glass for you. He handed you the drink.

"Try King of Hell darling." You stared at him in shock for a moment before bringing the glass to your lips and downed the amber liquid in one swift motion.

"You drink Scotch?" a familiar voice asked incredulously. You looked up at Dean.

"Well the King of Hell has excellent taste, and it's just called whiskey where I'm from." Crowley laughed as Deans jaw dropped. You motioned for a refill.

"Looks like she is your sister after all Squirrel" said the King of Hell. "Although she's much better looking than both of you."

"What the hell are you doing here anyway Crowley?" Dean demanded. "It stinks of Sulphur." That must have been the rotten eggs smell you picked up before.

Bobby stepped forwards.

"I called him in, figured we could use a resident expert, to make Y/N feel more at home." You frowned.

"Resident expert in what?" Crowley turned to face you.

"When I was human, the name was Fergus MacLeod. I was a tailor in Canisbay. I died about 300 years ago." You took a second to process his words before downing your second dram of malt.

"So, just to recap; I have two American brothers who hunt supernatural things. Which exist by the way. Their best friend is an Angel, you magically teleported me to…somewhere. And the King of Hell is Scottish." The men around you shared a look.

"That is a fair assessment of the facts." Castiel said. Crowley rolled his eyes at the heavenly being and knelt beside you.

"Are you okay love?" You stared at him, he was rather handsome for the King of Hell. At that you began you giggle. The startled look on his face made you laugh even harder until tears were falling down your face and you were gasping for air.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked, concern etched onto his features.

"The King of Hell." You gasped between fits of laughter. "Just asked if I was okay!" You cackled away at the ridiculous situation until you could laugh no more. Heaving a contented sigh you sat up and brushed the tears from your cheeks.

"Sorry." You smirked. "I was a little overwhelmed. Moment of madness over." The men cast wary glances at you before Bobby placed a giant pile of food in front of you.

"What. The Hell. Is that?" Dean asked in disgust. Your face lit up with delight.

"Haggis!" You cried. You grabbed the fork Bobby was holding out for you and began shovelling the dark meat into your mouth. You hadn't eaten all day and you were starving.

"Come again?"

"Haggis." Bobby repeated. "It's a Scottish delicacy." He was proud that he had apparently done a good job. You were eating it anyway. Dean made to grab a fork.

"Yes, sheep stomach stuffed with heart, liver, lungs and oats." Crowley grinned. Your brother blanched and put down his fork.

"Try it! It's good!" You insisted.

"Are you crazy? Did you just hear what's in that?" Dean stared at you incredulously. You rolled your eyes.

"Och don't be a baby! I've been eating Haggis since I was a bairn (Child)! Or are you just a scardy cat?" You waggled your eyebrows and held the plate out towards him. Everyone's eyes fell on Dean as he hesitantly picked up the fork again. He put a small bit in his mouth and chewed. His eyebrows flew up in surprise.

"It's actually not bad." You smiled happily and resumed eating. When you had finished you were shown to your room.

"It's not much, but you'll be safe here." Sam explained before leaving you to get settles in. Exhausted from the days events you dropped you bag to the floor, kicked off your shoes and collapsed onto the be. Your heart rate slowed and your breathing became deeper as you fell into a deep sleep.