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I stayed in the motel room for the rest of the time we were in Farmington Hills. I didn't talk to the others much; mostly one answer responses or I ignored them. I didn't want to talk and then them ask questions about what happened. I started keeping Lailah's angel blade on me, her necklace however I keep in my bag. It's a silver vial, I haven't opened it yet. I can't.

The boys walk in, except for Castiel but I don't bother to ask why, "we solved the case." I only glance at them and hum in response. "It was the doctor at the retirement home was controlling an old friend of our dads, Fred. He's psychokinetic, didn't realize what he was doing," Dean explains. I don't acknowledge him. "Anyways, now that we solved it, we are going back to the bunker," Sam adds.

I grab my bag and follow the boys out of the room to the car. I set my bag on the floorboard of the back and sit down. "So, what's your favorite type of food," Sam asks. "Don't pity me," I look at him. "Wow she says more than a word," Dean comments, making me roll my eyes with a slight smile. "Ha," I respond sarcastically.

I guess we drove for 14 hours straight, I fell asleep and when I woke up we were at the bunker. I was in my bed. I sat up, my face distorted with confusion: I definitely did not walk myself in here. I get up and immediately go to bag to make sure my things are in it. My- her blade was missing, so was her necklace. I put down the bag and storm out of the room into the map room. "Where the hell is the blade and necklace?"

The boys look at me, however I look at Dean's hand going into his pocket. I see the blade on the table, grab it, and hold it against Deans neck, "take your hand out of your pocket. Now. With the necklace." He slowly takes his hand out of his pocket and sets the necklace on the table. The vial cap was off. Inside was another small glass vials.

I tip it out onto my hand, taking the blade off Dean's neck and setting it on the table. Inside the vial there was some sort of fluid, bright blue with white. "What? Who's grace is this?" I look at them. Dean hands me a note that was inside the silver vial. I unroll it and read it. It was hebrew. החסד של נספנייל: Nespaniel's grace.

I set it down, "is this a joke? It's not very funny." "This isn't a joke," Sam speaks. I look at him. "I, uh, I'm gonna go," I pick up the necklace and glass vial, along with the blade, then walk out of the bunker. I then find the town park and walk through it for a while before laying down in the grass. It didn't calm me like it usually does. Tears roll down my cheeks as I hold the vial up in front of my face before laying my hands on my chest.

I don't believe she stole it, I can't. But, what if she did? I was sent here when Armageddon started, when Dean tortured a soul. Maybe she was trying to protect me. If I had no grace, no angels could sense me, no one except a few who saw my vessel, I couldn't fight in the war.

I need to stop making excuses for her. Nothing will justify what she did, or what I did in the result of it. Not like I can get any answers now.

I feel a presence lay next to me. Furrowing my eyebrows, I look at them. "What are you doing here? Can't stop following me, can you, Dean?" "How do you just lay here and stare at the sky?" I look back up, "not just about staring. It's about the shapes of each cloud, each unique and all different in their own ways. The sounds of the critters. It's calming. Helps me think clearly, look at all the possibilities."

He looks at the vial, "you haven't taken it yet?" "No," I answer, my voice monotone. " Why? I mean you were so hell-bent on finding the damn thing and getting it back." I know the answer to that question, but I don't think I can say the words. "I don't know. Second guessing. I mean what if it's not really mine and it's another angels? I mean there would be no point, it would only last a few days at most," I make an excuse.

It wasn't a lie, I don't lie, but wasn't the full answer. Sure, I am second guessing it, I think of that as a possibility, but I didn't say the full reason, and it's not the possibility of whose grace it is. Its the fear of gaining all my powers back. Permanently. I will be easier to find by other angels, easier to find my demons, I can be summoned again. But, maybe I can be forgiven. Doubt it though, angels aren't very apologetic beings.

"Nespan," Dean calls my name. I look at him, "what?" I fight back the tears from him calling me that. Something only Lailah and a few others called me. When Lailah first called me it many millennia ago, I asked her why? Why didn't she just say my full name, the name our father blessed me with. Her response has stuck with me through all this time, because, you are my sister, I love you. It's my form of showing you that.

"Are you alright?" Dean continues. I furrow my eyebrows, "yeah, why?" "You seem lost, stuck," He answers. I look up at the clouds, "that's because I am." His phone rings. He picks it up, "hey. Yeah, shes fine. We'll be back in a second." He sits up, "Sam found another case." I get up, putting the vial back in the necklace.

We walk back to the bunker, when we walk in I see that Sam looks like hes hiding something. "So, what's the case?" Dean sits down at the map table where Sam is sitting. Sam sighs, "a vamp kill, Dean. Carencro, Louisiana." "Who's the source?" "Martin Creaser." The room goes silent as the two look at each other, "sorry, I thought you said Martin Creaser." Sam stays silent. "Crazy Martin from that loony bin?"

I sit down and begin to tune the conversation out. "If Benny is in Louisiana draining people, we should check it out." I hear Dean say. "Do I have to come," I ask. Sam looks at Dean, they exchange looks as if they can read each others minds. They look back at me, Dean answers, "no, you can stay here. Work on the tablet. Castiel is off somewhere, we don't know where, so someone ought to be here if he comes back." I give him a questionable look, "is it normal for him to just get up and leave, no words said?" "Yeah, it is," Dean answers. Well, what a great friend Castiel is.

I nod, "Alright, well, be safe on the hunt." The boys leave and I go into the kitchen. In the fridge I see a bottle of vodka, and a few bottles of beer. I take them to my room and sit at the desk with the alcohol, notepad, pen, and tablet. I take a sip of the vodka as I begin trying to translate it. I finally got almost all of the first trial done. I still don't know the whole thing but I've translated most of the last sentence. 'the dire creatures may be seen only by the _____ or through an object ______ with holy ____'

Stuck. An object fixed tightly in a position and is unable to move. Everyone has experienced something stuck. Whether it is a door that is stuck, or you slip into a weird sitting position and can't move out of it, we have all experienced it. Maybe some people, maybe all people, have experienced a mental stuck. Like if you can decide which shirt you want, you are stuck between the options, or you can solve a problem and you get stuck on it.

Stuck. I am stuck. Stuck in my own mind. I'm trapped between two positions, and stuck between which I should choose. I am mentally stuck. I feel like I can't choose which is better. Which one would benefit me? Which one do I really want?

Maybe I do know what I want, maybe I'm in denial. I enjoy being mortal. You feel more as a mortal, understand humans better and why they do things they do, why they make the decisions they make. They are spontaneous, they don't always plan or think before acting like do angels. But, they get stuck in their mind more often.

Sure, I've been stuck as an angel. Stuck between choosing whose side of Lucifer's rebellion I was on. But we always chose what was best for angels, for heaven, for our father. We never chose what was best for ourselves much.

But, if I became an angel again, life would be back to what I am used to. I would gain my powers back, my wings. I could find who really stole my grace. I know Laila didn't.

I can't choose between the two worlds.

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