A/N: Okay, so i had a sudden spurt of inspiration. Yay! Yup. -EDIT- Fricken FanFiction wouldn't let me upload until now. What the hell was going on?

Disclaimer: I only own Hope, Joshua, Tim and the Hummers.

When Hope and Bobby walked back into the house, they were met with the sight of Sam and Dean shoving weapons into a pair of duffel bags.

Glancing up, Dean said, "you alright, Kid?"

Hope rubbed her eye self-consciously, "I'm fine. What's going on?"

"We've got a lead. A woman in Utah was murdered last night… She had a son that has gone missing, and when the cops got there, they found a stash of hunter's gear in a locked study. We're going there now."

Hope stared. They couldn't possibly think that they were leaving her behind. "Well, I'm coming too!"

The three men before her simply stared until Bobby spoke up, "Hell no."

"Why not? This son of a bi-"

"Language," Bobby interrupted.

Huffing out a breath, Hope continued, "His demon killed my mother. Now he's killed this boy's mother. I want to help."

"You can help by staying here!"

Rubbing a temple, Hope thought of another argument. "How old is the boy?"

Turning back to his laptop, Sam answered, "Er… Joshua Ramon. He's….. 7."

Smirking triumphantly, Hope knew that she had found her in. "Imagine how this little boy is feeling. He just saw his mother murdered and now he's on the run. How do you think he'd feel if three strange men suddenly showed up to take him away? A little freaked, no?"

Sam and Dean exchanged an amused smile as Bobby spluttered his unhappy consent.

/H/

An hour later, the four rescuers were on the road, Sam and Dean in the Impala, following Bobby and Hope in the old hunter's Frankenstein of a car.

"So what's the plan once we get there?" Hope asked conversationally.

"We just have to do our best to find that boy…. Can I ask you a question?" Bobby seemed nervous and awkward, which surprised Hope. He didn't seem like the sort of person to beat around the bush. "How was your mom? Before this all started, I mean."

Leaning back into her seat, Hope thought back. Back before her mother had died. Smiling fondly, she answered, "She was amazing. The greatest mother I could ever have. She could recognize something very small about a person. Oh! Like this one time…" Hope sat forward, crossing her legs and becoming very animated. She told Bobby of the little Old Russian man that nobody could understand, so her mother acted as a translator. Hope recounted story after story to her mother's old friend as the sun began to set. A large yawn interrupted Hope's reenactment of when her mother had saved a woman from being mugged while Hope waited in a clothing store.

Bobby chuckled as the teenager curled up in her seat, eyes drooping closed. Suddenly, she sat forward, trying to stay awake. "You know what? I think…. I think she talked about you all the time. She… she used to say an old friend taught her. Taught her how to fix a car, how to cook bacon to perfection, how to fight. I think she meant you." At that, Hope's consciousness took a dive into the blissful darkness of sleep, leaving Bobby with a warm fuzzy feeling inside. Like he had swallowed a pink kitten.

/H/

"Hey, Hope. Wake up. We're in Utah. We're stopping at a motel for the night." Hope grunted as the soft voice intruded into her consciousness. She registered that someone was attempting to wake her, and she wasn't too pleased about it.

"I don't wanna go to school, Mom." She muttered aimlessly.

There was a chuckle, followed by, "Dude, she just called you mom. You're being too nice. Move."

Suddenly there was a sharp, uncomfortable jab to her side. "Ungh!" she grunted, and threw a fist toward the open car door.

"God! Ow!"

Sighing, Hope climbed out of the car and was met with Dean clutching his nose. Eyes wide, she rushed to him. "Are you okay? Did I do that? I'm so so so so so so sorry!" Hope didn't know how to beg his forgiveness. These guys were trying to help her, and here she was breaking their noses.

Dean held up a resigned hand, stopping her apologies. "It's fine." At that, he jerked his hands, setting the cartilage. That was followed by a long stream of profanities.

Chuckling, Sam took Hope's and Dean's arms and led them into the motel, where Bobby was already at the front desk, getting their room key.

Bobby raised an eyebrow at Dean's purpling nose and Hope's guilty expression before letting out an amused grunt.

/H/

While in the shower the next morning, Hope rolled her achy shoulders, sore from the hours in the car the day before. Letting the hot water pound her shoulders, she sighed. What the hell was she doing? On the road with three men she barely knew, on the hunt of a demon. A freaking demon. Hope sighed and finished her shower, dressing in skinny jeans and an oversized grey t shirt. Comfort is a necessity.

After everyone had showered, they were back on the road. Hope sighed and turned on Bobby's disk player, and her ears were immediately slammed with Adele's "Rolling in the Deep". She gave Bobby a questioning smirk.

Shrugging, Bobby kept his eyes toward the road, "I like her spunk."

Hope grinned and sat back, letting the powerful song wash over her. As the song ended, Hope turned the music down, turning back to Bobby. "So, do we have a plan yet?"

"While you were sleeping, we talked about that. Apparently the boy had a friend who lived next door. He was home alone when Ms. Ramon was murdered, and they've got him sitting with a shrink, under the impression that the boy has lost it. He says that the mother was killed by 'The spawn of hell'."

Hope cocked an eyebrow, "That's a mighty big description for a 7 year old boy."

Bobby nodded absently. "According to the authorities, the entire family is very religious, which will either make our job much easier or much harder."

Sighing, Hope slouched deeper into the leather seats, rubbing her eyes wearily. Bobby glanced at her momentarily, clearing his throat, "How are you dealing?"

"Just dealing I guess," she muttered, shrugging her sore shoulders. Groaning, she reached a hand over her shoulder to massage the enflamed muscles.

Bobby looked concerned, "You alright?"

Hope smiled weakly and sat back, shifting uncomfortably. "I will be. How much farther is there to drive?"

Nodding out the window to the suburban area, Bobby grunted, "We're here."

/H/

Rolling her shoulders as she climbed out of the car, Hope regarded the house. It was a plain and rather boring brown, as were many of the homes around here.

"So what's our cover?"

Bobby watched her with laughing eyes. "Our cover?" When she simply looked back at him, he chuckled and finished, "Our cover is just old family friends. Sam and Dean will be coming back later as FBI."

Hope nodded, and the pair walked up the steps. Bobby knocked on the dark brown door and then stepped back, just as a kindly-looking elderly man opened the door, and standing beside him was the stereotypical grandma. Curly white hair and sweaters.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hummer?" Bobby asked, his entire demeanor changing from a gruff badass who hunts demons to a sad and grieving man, looking for his friend's only connection.

The old couple allowed Bobby and Hope inside, calling their grandson down when they learned of their "connections" to the victim. Tim sat at the end of the couch, not making eye contact and not speaking. Bobby immersed the grandparents in a deep, albeit rather boring, conversation, allowing Hope to study the boy.

"Hello, Tim. My name is Hope. You knew my cousin Josh?" she asked, hoping against hope for the boy to open up.

The child looked up at her with eyes far too wise for his age, and Hope knew that this boy has been through more than she could imagine. "We were best friends. Until the demons carried him off. My grandparents think I'm a nutter. They raised me this way. I'm not a nutter. I'M NOT!" He yelled suddenly, jumping to his feet.

Hope started, working to keep her face straight and emotionless. "I know you're not a nutter, Tim. I completely believe you. Believe me." She smiled in a way that she hoped was reassuring.

Apparently it was, because the traumatized boy sat back down, tucking his knees up to his chest.

Thinking, Hope asked quietly, "when the demons carried him off, did you see anything? Did they use a car, or did they walk a certain way?"

Tim shook his head tightly, looking at her with glistening eyes, "They just disappeared into the air. They took Joshua. They took him because he's different."

"Different how, Tim?"

Glancing furtively at his grandparents, the boy muttered, "He didn't believe the way we do, but I know. I know it. The demons took him because of it. They did, they did."

Hope fixed him with a stare. "How was Joshua different?"

Shuffling across the small space that separated them, the small boy whispered in her ear, "Joshua was an angel."

A/N: Ooh, cliffhanger, whut? Don't worry. Joshua's not a Castiel-type angel. Remember that little Timmy was raised very religiously. :) Please review! Loves!