A/N: Whoo! Can I get three cheers for inspiration? :D YAY!

Disclaimer: I only own Hope, Tim, Joshua, and the Vegrandis Pennae legend.

Hope stared at the Tim, giving a long blink before whispering back, "an angel?"

Nodding earnestly, the boy walked backwards until he fell back on the couch. Pouting slightly, he added, "But he can't fly. That would have been awesome."

Glancing at Bobby to see if he had heard, she realized that Bobby had been completely immersed in the conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Hummer. Widening her eyes slightly, he got the hint and closed on the subject, promising to be back if they heard anything.

As soon as they got back in the car, Bobby jumped into what the grandparents had told him, but Hope wasn't listening. Interrupting whatever he was telling her, she muttered, "Tim said that Josh was an angel."

Looking at her with incredulous eyes, Bobby asked, "Don't you think Castiel would have mentioned something about a 7 year old boy being a vessel?"

Hope shrugged. "Maybe it doesn't matter. Ya think we can get in touch with him?"

Bobby snorted out a laugh. "Sure. Soon as I invite Aphrodite to tea."

/H/

"So the Hummers officially think that the FBI has lost its marbles," Dean announced as he and Sam walked into the motel room. "And little Timmy wouldn't say a word to us. What'd you two find out?"

Hope grimaced from her place at the small table, her hands pausing over the keys of Sam's laptop. "Well, Tim talked to me…"

The brothers stared at her expectantly.

Hope decided to just say it. "Tim said… he said that Joshua is an angel. But I've been researching legends and lore, and I've found nothing. I highly doubt that Joshua is an actual angel, because, well, how in the world would Tim know? Plus he wouldn't still be living with his mother." With a huff of frustration, Hope climbed up from the uncomfortable motel chair and rolled her head, stretching her sore neck muscles.

Sam went over and took her recently abandoned chair and started tapping away rapidly at the keys while Dean yanked off the stupid tie he was forced to wear.

/H/

Hope groaned loudly as she sat up the next morning, her back and lower ribs sore. Ugh. Fricking motel mattresses, she thought to herself. Rubbing her pained ribs absently, her eyes widened at the smell that met her nose. Fresh coffee. And not the crappy motel stuff, either. It was coffee from that adorable little shop down the street. Current early-morning exhaustion forgotten, she ran for the caffeine-filled cup of deliciousness, practically inhaling it.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Hope jumped and choked as searing hot coffee went down the wrong tube of her throat. Dean ran-walked up and snatched the now half-empty cup of coffee out of her hands, looking very much like a sulking kid who didn't like sharing his rocking horse.

Breathing deeply through her nose, Hope gasped out, "Well, I didn't see your name on it."

Narrowing his eyes at her, he half-turned the cup to show Marcus Jenson scribbled in sharpie and underneath that a phone number. Hope chuckled. "She wrote her number?"

Looking rather pleased with himself, Dean smiled and said, "Yep. And God was she smokin'."

Hope rolled her eyes and fished around her bag for some clean clothes. "Where are Sam and Bobby?"

"Getting some real food. I was still asleep." He tossed a crumpled note at her. Unfolding it, she read,

Dean,

Don't let anyone into the room. Not even the pretty coffee lady. Bobby and I will be back with your cheeseburger soon.

Laughing out loud this time, Hope crumpled the note and tossed it on the ground. "I love how he writes to you like you're a kid."

Dean glared at her, but Hope could see the humor dancing in his eyes. Jumping up with an innocent smirk and an armful of clothing, she danced off the take a shower.

/H/

After her shower, Hope was dressing in front of the mirror. The hot water had done nothing for her aching muscles. Arching her back and twisting side to side, she looked at her ribs in the mirror. Nothing out of the ordinary. Her back was a different story. Looking over her shoulder in the mirror to view her back, she gasped. Two symmetrical and purpling bruises were forming side by side between her shoulder blades. "What the fu-..."

A knock interrupted her shocked cussing and Bobby's voice rang through the small bathroom. "You almost done in there? We've got some information."

It took a moment for Hope to find her voice. "Err- uhm… yeah. I'm about to come out."

There was silence on the other side. Hope though that maybe Bobby had left, but just then he answered, "Alright."

/H/

Five minutes later, Hope was dressed and sitting on one of the small beds, her damp hair dripping onto her pale green t-shirt. Dean sat across from her on his bed, munching on a burger wrapped in greasy wax paper.

"So. What'd you guys find out?"

Sam turned in his chair. "I have a theory. Tim's family is highly religious, right? Well, wouldn't he view a boy with a pair of bird wings as an angel?"

When met with three blank stares, he shook his head and turned back to his computer, pulling up a tab, and started reading.

"The Vegrandis Pennae is a legendary creature from Ancient Rome. Half bird and half human, and the distribution of each part vary between creatures. Some would be all bird with a human head, and feet, when others would have human bodies with simple wings. The bird attributes would begin to appear on a child between the ages of 3 and 10, and when they began to show, the child would be seen as a deity. Worshiped and waited upon hand and foot."

Sitting forward, Hope said, "So you think that Joshua is a Vangrandim Pentey?"

Smiling slightly, Sam corrected her. "Vegrandis Pennae. And yeah. So far it seems like the most likely conclusion."

"Why would demons go after an extinct species?" Bobby asked.

Sam shrugged, "No idea."

"Yeah, and why the hell would they kill my mother? I was in the basement, so I don't know if they would have taken me like they did Joshua, but I'm almost 15, so I'm definitely not a Veggie Taler… Am I?"

Sam rolled his eyes at her sarcastic replacement for the Vegrandis Pennae. "I highly doubt it, but nothing is impossible."

Taking a drink of his coffee, Dean chuckled, "Maybe you're a late bloomer."

Hope rolled her eyes and chose to ignore him, trying not to think of her bruises. "Anyway, we still have to find him. Have you heard anything?"

Sam shook his head, clicking away absently.

/H/

That night Hope begged Bobby to let her go for a drive.

"C'mon, Bobby! I know how to drive! I had to steal my mum's car when…. Anyway, I know how, and I'm sick of being stuck in this damn motel!"

Sam was sitting at the table and Dean was on a bed, both drinking a beer and looking hugely amused. The teenager and their surrogate father had been going at it for about an hour.

"You're only fourteen, kiddo. You're not going anywhere."

Fixing Bobby with a stare, she asked, "Dean, how old were you when you learned to drive?"

Eyes widening in panic, Dean held his hands up defensively, "I am not getting involved."

"Just let me go! I'll be back before midnight. I've got my knife, I'll be perfectly fine!" Hope's face was red with anger, all directed at the hunter standing in between her and the door.

Sighing his defeat, Bobby moved about a foot to the left. "Fine. But you get a scratch on my car; you get to clean my junkyard."

Hope stared at him, horrified. "But that's an impossible job."

Bobby smiled and tossed her the keys. Hope ran out the door.

/H/

Being completely alone for the first time in ages, Hope found herself truly relaxing. Turning up the radio, she bobbed her head with the beat of "Highway to Hell". She drove aimlessly for an hour before stopping at a Pizza Hut and ordering two large pepperoni pizzas. Heavenly aroma filling the car, Hope was driving back towards the motel when she saw a small black mass huddled behind a dumpster in an alley. Her protective instinct kicked in. Pulling over to the side of the road, she clutched her knife and crept around the edge of the alley. "Hello? Is somebody in there?"

When nobody answered, Hope turned back to Bobby's car, her knife dropping to her side. Then she heard it. A quiet, muffled sobbing of a terrified child.

Bracing her back against the disgusting wall, she used her legs to shove the dumpster with all her might. Once there was enough room, Hope crawled back and gently placed a hand on the child's shoulder. "Joshua? Are you Joshua Ramon?"

The child looked up at her with tear-filled, bright yellow eyes. Then he slouched down against her, unconscious.

Oh noes! Poor kiddo! Reviews = LOVE!