Hello, Hello. Things are starting to move along now. I wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed the story hence far. Your reviews in particular are my fuel to continue : ) I'm excited for chapter 14. Crowley shows up, and his character is great fun to play around with. Chapter 13 and 14 were originally going to be one chapter…but it would have gotten a bit long, so I split them up. At the risk of fishing for reviews…please review! Ha ha : )

Chapter 13

Aiyla hummed to herself as she dried an old blue dish and gazed out Bobbie's kitchen window. She had been in residence for nearly 3 weeks, and she was finally starting to feel comfortable…well with Bobby at least. Dean, Sam, and Castiel had not been present for the majority of the time.

Her injuries were healing nicely. Bobby had told her that she did not heal as quickly as an angel or demon, but she also did not heal as slowly as a pureblood human. As she had none to compare herself to, she was inclined to take Bobby's word for it. The lacerations on her back had healed completely, leaving only thin white scars. Her wrist remained in a guard, but she was optimistic that she could take it off by week's end. Her ribs were tender if she twisted suddenly, but so long as she was careful, they gave her no trouble. She glanced at her ankle, unbound and showing no indication of having ever suffered injury. She blushed, recalling how that particular miracle had come to be.

She and Bobby had been on their own for two days, when Castiel unexpectedly appeared to check in. When he arrived, she was upstairs. Hearing voices, Aiyla hurried to greet the angel as he talked with Bobby. In her haste, she caught her crutch on the banister. She'd actually achieved air, as she toppled down the stairs. Castiel had hastily teleported, and caught her before any major damage occurred. Seemingly fed up with her penchant for near death experiences, he plopped her unceremoniously onto Bobbie's desk and healed her ankle as well as the black eye and bruised collarbone from the bookcase; disregarding her protests. He'd spent several hours recovering on Bobbie's couch that day. Feeling guilty for causing his weakened state, Aiyla insisted he let her read to him while he recovered. He had given her an odd look, but did not protest. After a few hours though, she nodded off. When she awoke, she was the one laying on the couch covered by a blanket and Castiel was gone.

Though she hated to have been the cause of weakening Castiel, even temporarily, she was also grateful he had insisted on the healing. She really was a disaster on crutches. Free of the bothersome things, she could now help around the house. Washing dishes was not easy with one bum wrist, but Aiyla was determined to earn her keep. Bobby seemed to recognize her need to be useful, and simply mumbled for her not to overexert herself. Sam and Dean had left at dawn, for another hunt, so any protests they might have issued were moot. Aiyla frowned, realizing that what they hunted were the very things whose blood flowed through her veins. She raised her hand, turning it about. Such an ordinary hand, no different from Dean, Sams, or even Castiel's in all but size. It certainly didn't look like the hand of a monster. It was still difficult her to fathom that she was anything other than ordinary. Her early life had been so uneventful. On some level, she knew that healing was not considered a typical human trait. But Amerielle was her only connection to the outside world and had never indicated how unique the talent truly was. In fact, she always assumed that healing as she did was rare, but still practiced by at least a select few. She was quickly coming to realize that such was not the case.

Aiyla touched a hand to her hair, staring at the faint image of her reflection in the dingy old window. Yesterday she had found an old stack of magazines in a closet. Eagerly, she'd paged through the dusty pages…and quickly come to the realization that the color of her hair was utterly unique…different. She'd been glad to see that blue eyes were considered a normal feature, choosing to ignore the fact that the jewel tones of her own were far more striking than any she'd found within the magazine's pages.

Different. Freak. Monster. Abomination. Amerielle had owned a book called Frankenstein. Aiyla had felt sorry for the monster who'd been forced to live apart; alone and afraid. But it was a detached sort of pity…that of a child who could never truly understand the pain of being different. Aiyla glanced away from her reflection. She thought she understood a little better now.

The hunters and Castiel had all been cordial, polite. Sam and Bobby seemed to be the most accepting. Sam went out of his way to be nice to her. But when he thought she wasn't looking, she would sometimes catch him looking at her with eyes that held pity and sadness. Bobby had told her about Sam and Dean's past. About the demon blood. Perhaps he saw something of himself in her.

Bobby was wonderful. Almost from the start he'd treated her just as he did Sam and Dean. As the days progressed, he'd become more and more friendly, protective even. She liked his gruff exterior…because she knew it was only a guise. He cared. He cared about the brothers as if they were his own children. He even seemed to hold Cass in a grudging sort of esteem. She grinned… he was starting to care for her as well, she was sure of it. Perhaps it was because she was female, or young, but he seemed to be more willing to outwardly show his affection toward her than the boys. Over the weeks, he's made a great effort to select books from his substantial collection that he thought she would enjoy. Just this morning, he'd ruffled her hair and called her half-pint. She couldn't say for certain how fathers acted toward their children, but Aiyla liked to think that Bobby's treatment toward her came close. It was a nice feeling.

Unfortunately, Dean and Cass were a different story. Dean, while polite, seemed to struggle with the knowledge that monster blood flowed through her veins. She remembered the way he'd threatened Cass at the warehouse when the angel had tried to kill her. He'd even placed his own body between her and the angel. Unfortunately, the protective qualities Dean displayed seemed to be at war with what she was quickly coming to realize were a hunters instincts ingrained in him since childhood. Aiyla shivered. She was not certain he would spare her if she began to present any more abilities than she already possessed.

For the time being at least, she'd decided to omit the fact that she could detect lies as easily as another discerned a grape from an orange. She also hesitated to confess that as the days wore on she'd begun to see Castiel's grace shimmering beneath his vessel… marking him as angel. Remembering the early days of her imprisonment she recalled she had also been able to see the tortured, skeletal faces of the demons leering out at her from beneath their human meat suits. Of course, as her body weakened under the torture and malnourishment...the ability had faded to nothingness…which was likely why she had not been able to tell Cass was an angel upon their first meeting.

Ah yes…Castiel. Or Cass, as the hunters called him. She was unsure what to think of the angel…nor what he thought of her. He looked at her with those wise, pensive eyes and sometimes she swore he could see right into her soul. He watched her with the oddest pairing of wariness, fascination, and something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was odd, she supposed, that she was largely unafraid of him. One might even call it foolhardy, considering he had tried to kill her upon their first meeting. He was dangerous. He was powerful. Why… he could smite her with a single…

Aiyla shook her head, banishing the uneasy thoughts. Scolding herself, she forced her attention back to the present and the many blessings she'd been graced with. Warmth, care, safety. Luxuries she'd lacked for so very long. How could she be anything but grateful? And the sky…Aiyla gazed longingly out the window, taking in the clear blue of the heaven's with greedy eyes. Oh, how she wished she could go outside. But the brothers had told her that without Cass present, exiting the house was far too risky. The demon proofing Cas and Bobby implemented only covered the house itself. Outside, she would be wide open to demon attack…thus placing Bobby in danger as well. Sam had also explained in detail, the typical signs of an angel's approach. Apparently most angels arrived with far more gusto than Castiel's sudden appearances. Any signs of high pitched screeching or windows shattering….and she was supposed to run to the panic room straightaway, which Sam and Dean had angel proofed before their departure.

Aiyla picked up another dish, drying it absently.

"Hello poppet."

The pretty blue dish shattered, scattering across the kitchen floor in jagged, broken. Her newly found hope followed suit, splintering into a million forlorn pieces. Crowley had come for her.