Sam- You were walking around Wild West Guns, the best gun store you had even been to. It was extremely far from where you were going but this store was the best of the best for hunting porpoises. So it was worth it. You bought a couple different guns and some knifes small enough to fit in your only shoes, combat boots, and big enough to kill some beings of the supernatural.

You pack up your guns in a secret compartment under the back seat of your light blue 1966 Chevelle SS. You pick up your phone and call a good friend of yours, Bobby Singer.

"Hey Bobby it's (Y/N). I'm taking the trip back from the store. I picked up guns and some other crap. Hopefully you will have a case for me when I get back. See you then."

You left a voicemail, ready to start you excruciatingly long journey back to his house.

29 hours later

"Bobby! I'm back!" You call as you knock on the door knowing he's there because his car is here and you can hear him talking. Wait Bobby doesn't talk to himself! So who is he talking to?

You whip out your new gun and put in some bullets ready to shoot. The voices stopped till you jumped through the doorway and almost shoot a tall young man with brown puppy eyes. Bobby yelped in surprise.

"Oh my lord! (Y/ N) next time say something before you almost blow off my freakin' head. Jesus!" Bobby yells pushing your gun down.

"This is Sam Winchester. His brother Dean is out fixing up his precious hunk of metal outside," Bobby introduces the men in his house.

"Sorry. I'm (Y/ N) (Y/L/N). I've heard off you before. Nice to finally meet you in person," You were frankly surprised Bobby knew such famous hunters and you didn't meet them sooner.

"Nice to meet you too. Bobby was just explaining a huge case we we're going to work on together," Sam said shaking your hand.

"Perfect," You smirked. Working with a group of hunters was going to be different. You're kinda a lone wolf.

Dean- You filled your last bottle of cattle blood for the road. 280 bottles should last about 3 months. You couldn't get hungry. You wouldn't kill. Cow blood is probably the most disgusting thing a vampire like you could eat. Ugh.

You hung around people most of the time. You stayed out in the morning as if you were a normal person obsessed with designer sunglasses. You kept your fangs in. You wouldn't ever kill a human. So you weren't the typical vampire.

You were minding your own business when a fellow vampire kidnapped you. They brought you to their nest trying to make you help them kill some people.

"No," you said gruffly

Yeah, they tied you up.

About a half hour later of torturing two strong men kicked the door down.

"You think we got them all," one said.

"Yeah," the other said.

"HELP! PLEASE!" You call out like a damsel in distress just as you wiggle out of the ropes and grab a knife your tall brown boots and chomp that suckers head clean off. Hey you said you wouldn't kill a human. Monsters on the other hand.

A man swiftly opened the door and ran to you.

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dea- false alarm she's a hunter," Sam called eyes your knife and the vamps head.

You both walked back out the door to a handsome man with apple green eyes and a bit of scruffle leaning against a black 1967 Chevy Impala.

"I'm Dean. Another hunter. We are heading back to our motel want a ride?" Dean offered as you gratefully accepted by climbing in the car.

Sam handed you some water and you drank some.

"Not to be a bother but could just drop me off at Wal-Mart. I was shopping and they kidnapped me," You ask tapping Deans shoulder.

"Yeah of course. Glad to know your not a demon. That was holly water," Dean said pulling over next to your pick up truck. You hoped he didn't come out because the blood was laying on the back seats. The windows were tinted.

Sam got out of the passenger seat to help you to your car.
He opened the front door and

"VAMPIRE! DEAN SHE'S GOT BLOOD BACK HERE!"

"Shit," you make a mad dash.

Castiel- "Blah Blah Blah. Blah blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah? Blah blah blah blah."

Soon everyone was standing and singing a song about who knows what. You weren't really paying attention. Your grandma wanted you to go to a midnight mass with her but you were so god damn tired. The ou word you heard was blah. Honestly this whole situation was giving you a major headache.

Whoosh

"I'm Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord."

"Holy crap falling asleep in church gives you such weird dreams," You say glancing around.

"(Y/ N) you were an angel, too. Your grace has been lost," Castiel reached forward to your head holding out two fingers.

"Hell to the no!" You shout. "I'm not a religious person," you jump away. Even if this is a dream this man wasn't touch your head.

Two strong arms force you into a chair.

"Stay put."

"Please (Y/ N) try to understand. Remember who you are,"
Castiel pleaded.

"I know who I am. I just want to wake up," You cry. You have had really weird dreams but none had plot lines.

Your phone started to ring and you picked up.

"Honey cakes where are you? You seemed to have disappeared from mass dear," you heard your grandmother's voice and flipped.

"This nut job took me grandma! Call 911! You have to help me!," you sobbed into the phone. You don't even think your 100 year old grandma could hear you.

Castiel sat next to you and placed a finger on your forehead making you remember all those millions of years ago. Your grace stripped from your body by mounds of black smoke.