Elanor stood in the mist, her flashlight's battery was waning but it wasn't fear she felt. She stood in awe, watching the sky as thousands of streaks combed downward, flaring up, beautiful and heavenly. And though she was enrapt with the beauty of the descent she couldn't supress the sense of forboding she felt. It wasn't fear, but knowledge, that guided her intuition. She knew something was wrong - for she watched the skies - and she loved the heavens. The next few days were curious, suddenly in her head she was hearing crying and despair and fear and worry. She ran, seeking refuge from the agony in her mind. She was terrified, she continued to run and then suddenly she couldn't anymore. She had lost her mind, she knew. But now she was losing her body, as well. She collapsed on a city street, the sidewalk wet with subtle rain.

Elanor awoke in a hospital bed, eyes wide and terrified. She gasped loudly, ready to press her hands to her ears again and noticed a man directly in front of her. He was tall, with toffee-colored skin and honey-toned eyes, but the more notable thing about his appearance were the rolled locks that fell back from his face and hung against his shoulders. He swallowed hard, and simply continued to stare at her.

"Why are you examining me?" Her eyes were tired and her head hurt - though she couldn't hear the voices anymore. She glanced down at herself, covered in the sheet, and realized more fully that she was in a hospital.

"Nurse! I need a nurse," she croaked, her voice weak. She striggled with the IV but the pain of fidgeting with it stopped her from getting anywhere. ""Help!" she croaked again.

"I will ask for a nurse," he said, stepping from the room. She didn't have the energy to ask him to stay. She didn't understand who he was or why he was there. She rested until the nurse came in, and then it was a whirl of activity. She was kept for observation for three days and then was released, she felt strong enough, but her aunt insisted on picking her up and delivering her home. Her dog was overwhelmed when she came in. She played with her dog, as her aunt caught her up on everything. As she walked her aunt to the door that evening, assuring her that she was fine and not to worry, she caught a glimpse of a man who stood stock still on the other side of the street.

The same man who had been in the room when she'd awoken. She closed the door with a snap, slipping the locks into place and ruffling up her dog. He was still thrilled that she existed, though he was purely obedient to her. She fed him, and ate the food regina had brought for her. She opened the fridge and then immediately closed it. Groceries had begun to spoil. She would deal with that tomorrow.

She showered, and hesitated by the hall mirror looking at herself. She had lost a little bit of weight, but that didn't particularly thrill her. Her hair wasn't much longer, and the length of strawberry blonde was something she liked to play with. She'd kept it short for most of her life, but when she turned twenty-four she'd decided to grow it out. Two years later it was now always somewhere between her shoulders and her waist. She stepped back into the bathroom for her hair scissors and then screamed. She had seen the man on the other side of the window which was just beginning to unfog. She stumbled back, groping for her phone.

"Please, there's someone outside of my house," she stated. The responder handled her kindly, asking for her address and then for her to stay on the line. They came and went without impact. They couldn't find the man she described. She closed her arms around herself and tried to sleep that night - but couldn't. She rose early, before dawn, and went to her usual breakfast spot. She ordered the caramel macchiato she'd come to love, and the honey bagel she was accustomed to. She sat for a few minutes - since her job didn't expect her back quite yet. And then the man entered the store and she bristled. Stiffening, she gripped the taser hidden in her purse.

He didn't speak to her, however, he simply walked in, sat for a few moments near the door, and then left again. She was thoroughly intimidated by him. Confused by his presence and upset by it. She hurried home after that, and when there was a knock on the door Dixie went insane. He barked and growled and continuously attempted to stand between Elanor and the door. She nudged him out of the way, but it was aunt Regina on the other side. She let her in, yet it was just a moment beyond the threshold that Regina grabbed Elanor by the hair and dragged her to the ground. Elanor screamed, kicking out with her legs, struggling against her aunt. Regina struck her once hard across the face - and Elanor's vision wavered. She fought for her consciousness, begging softly. Regina threw her form toward the wall that hosted her television. Elanor slammed into the wall - the impact winded her - and she watched as Regina looked down at the dog who still barked angrily and had attacked her when she held Elanor by the hair.

"No!" Elanor shouted as Regina landed a well aimed kick. She heard the panicked objection of her dog before he lay completely still. "Regina!" she begged. "What are you doing! Stop it! Stop!" Regina rounded on Elanor now, but then the door swung open again. Elanor focused on the man she'd been seeing. She was doubly terrified for a moment. Had he put her closest loved-one up to this?

"Leave the girl alone," he commanded. Regina's eyes hardened - and then turned a gnarly red. Elanor gasped.

"No." She turned her head to glare at him and then reached for Elanor again but before she could do anything he lunged at Regina. She screamed brutally as he attacked her with a shining silver blade. Elanor watched in awe as the slice along her thigh lit up, and then Regina threw back her head, and a noxious fog flew from between her lips. Black - a deep murky charcoal - erupted from her, and flew out of the still-open door. Elanor watched Regina fall to the floor, unconscious, and now bloody. She scrambled to her.

"Regina!" She called. Elanor was shaking. The man with the dreds stood next to them, looking sadly at the dog. Elanor cried, and started to rise for a phone but he stopped her, kneeling next to her aunt he placed his hand on her thigh. Elanor pushed him away at first, terrified that he would attack her again, but he resisted her patiently before touching her again. Her wound closed, the blood flow stopped, and though she remained unconscious, appeared to be completely fine. He left her on the floor and rose to his feet again.

"What's your name?" Elanor asked him, rising to her feet.

"Othniel. What is your name?" She glared at him.

"Elanor," she replied, feeling stubborn and painful and mostly confused. "What just happened?" She reached up to rub her face and felt a dampness - blood. She looked at her bloodied hand in confusion and didn't bother to flinch when Othniel reached for her. With a single finger to her forehead she felt the pain drain away from her. She was left with a calm she hadn't experienced since she'd awoken.

"That was a demon that attacked you," Othniel stated. "It possessed your sister and used her as a vessel."

"But why?"

"I... don't know," he said. "I have felt the need to protect you, however. Something about you calls to me."

"If that was a demon," her head was beginning to spin. "What are you?"

"I am Othniel. I am an angel of the lord."

"So.. a- a guardian angel?" Elanor inquired.

"Come with me," he said. "I feel as though you are in danger." He didn't offer and explanation and didn't seem to be ready for one.

"Come with you?" Elanor jerked away from him as he reached for her hand. He looked at her quizzically. "Where? Why the hell would I do that?"

"It would be safer," he rationalized. "You - and she - would be safer."

"She's coming, too?" She asked, looking down at her aunt, who slept, now peacefully, on the carpet. Regina had children now - even if she'd needed to go... what about the kids?

"No. You. This is why you've been sleeping. I believe God wanted to hide you."

"Hide me? From what?" He didn't answer. Elanor had never been particularly religious. She had attended church with her parents when she was a little girl, but since their death when she was seventeen she hadn't given much thought to God. She'd never cursed him - and... she imagined that he was benevolent, just distant.

"We need to go," he said, turning his head as though he could hear an oncoming threat.

"Prove to me that you're an angel. Show me." She was counting the healing thing in his favor - but she needed more. She needed to know, to make all this craziness believable. And even then she probably wouldn't believe it. He reached for her, gently touching her face. She stiffened, harshly guarded.

"Your happiest moment," he said, "was your twelfth birthday. You went roller skating, and later for icecream. But the memory of that day is you sitting on the porch with your dad, after your friends had all gone home. He talked about how seasons change, and you loved how the falling leaves looked in the light of the street-lamp." She stared at him, her tears starting to gather.

"How -" he didn't allow her to finish the question, or give her a moment of solace with her father's memory. He took her by the wrist and rushed her from her house. She struggled as he ushered her down her walk. "No - wait! I need clothes," she gasped. "If I'm going, I need things."

"We must hurry," he said.

"I can drive, just... I have to take things." She didn't take much. She took down her suede jacket she'd had since she was fifteen, with the tear on the inside of the right cuff - and the band patch she'd used to make an inside pocket. She threw an extra pair of jeans into one of her larger purses, a couple of sweaters and her favorite pair of boots. She didn't think to take her hairbrush. She didn't bother to bring her favorite perfume. She was being hurried by Othniel, and was too overwhelmed to continue to marvel at the oddity. She slid into her reasonable car, and drove away with Othniel in the passenger seat.

Over time he earned her trust, and together they dodged anything Othniel deemed a threat. Often she asked him why he felt the need to protect her - as he explained that the angels had fallen and that there was chaos among them now; how the apocalypse had been rebutted, and that the forces that balanced humanity were out of control. She wondered why he felt the need to be there for her - when his own people were in such peril. She didn't usually hesitate to say as much. Months passed, surviving sparsely, as she worked as a waittress for a couple of weeks at a time, until he decided to move them again. Over time he became more... human. More likeable and friendlier. She taught him how to work as a human - to hold a job. But on occasion when she would become overwhelmed he would disappear for a while, and return with more money than they could immediately need. She never chose to question him. They were in Cincinnati when he became completely still, and her said that Metatron was their new God. She disagreed with him - and as he explained all the waves that an angel could understand, and how only God could have completely taken over "angel radio"... she still disagreed.

She reasoned with him - that maybe this angel could take certain qualities of God - but only God himself could ever be God. He respected her opinions, and settled into staying by her side. A few days later he paused to listen again and he explained to her that she was right - Metatron was a greedy and possessive angel, overtaking and ruining God's name. She asked him how he had learned this and he said that the angel Castiel had revealed his true nature. She confronted him a few days later, demanding answers as to why he had her on the run. When she asked why he didn't know anything definite, she asked him to take her to the angels. He hesitated, telling her of the faction war the angels had been in the midst of for the last year.

"But it's been almost a year, Othniel. I need more than this," she gestured to the hotel they had shifted to. "I need more than dinginess and hunger."

"Are you hungry?" the angel asked. She shook her head.

"That's not the point I'm trying to make. I can't keep moving around like this. I just can't."

"But you help people. You like to do that," he replied. She sighed. It was true, she insisted they help the occasional distressed person. What was the point of having an angel on your shoulder, afterall? Recently Othniel had disbanded three demons who were attempting to terrorize a school. They had to flee quickly - he left dead bodies behind. But none of the children or teachers had been harmed.

"I do," she said. "But... I feel so off. There has to be a reason you protected me from Regina."

"It wasn't Regina."

"Whatever it was." The memory was still painful. She missed her aunt terribly. "There still has to be a reason. Why I awoke as I did - why you were there - why you spirited me away. I can't be hidden forever," she plead. He was quiet. Then he rose to his feet.

"We will go to the angels," he agreed. She didn't bother to tell him he was still very stiff and formal, she shuffled around the room gathering her things. They'd been there for six hours, she'd only had a two-hour nap. Luckily she'd taken the time to teach him to drive, so as he drove she slept. They arrived at a nondescript warehouse, and he walked in without much resistence - they were met by a woman in a gray suit. She gave no information, but greeted Othniel by calling him Brother. They were held, waiting, for almost an hour. But eventually Castiel emerged, flanked by two rather large-bodied angels. He had a charming look, clothed in a simple suit and a pale trench coat. He had fiercely blue eyes, and wore a somber expression. Before that moment Elanor had not wondered about the physical bodies of the angels she saw, but now she wondered vaguely. Did souls, in fact, look human?

"Othniel, it is good to see you again," Castiel said, embracing Othniel. Elanor looked on. "Who is this?"

"Castiel, this is Elanor. A human." Castiel smiled a fleeting greeting - bland - before looking back to Othniel.

"Why, now, have you come, Othniel? Many thought you died in the fall. Many things have happened this past year." Castiel walked them into another room, away from the ears of the other angels. Elanor followed meekly behind. She didn't understand - but she felt nervous here. Watched.

"I have come because Elanor demanded it of me." Castiel glanced at the girl, short in stature, with a round face and large pale rain-blue eyes. "And I had not come before because..." Othniel paused, pondering his answer. Elanor could see a change in his demeanor. His usual frankness over-shot by his sudden lack of rank. "I was afraid, Castiel. I could hear the anger and worry in our brothers and sisters. And I have felt oddly drawn to this human girl since I arrived. Concerned for her safety. Loyal to her needs." Castiel looked on in affected shock, examining Elanor again. She squirmed under his gaze, for he looked at her unabashed. She began to blush, and wonder if she should have worn something more presentable than her gray jeans that were a bit over-worn, and the burgundy shirt she was so fond of. She resisted the urge to readjust her hair, or tug at her top. She looked back at him - meeting his eye dauntlessly. Then she remembered suddenly, forcefully, that he was now the head of the angels. She broke eye contact immediately. He smiled when she glanced back.

"It is nice to meet you, Elanor," he said kindly. She smiled. "Do you know why you feel this way, Othniel?" Othniel shook his head. It was true. They'd been over it several times. But Othniel offered no explanation, as he had none.

"There was a demon," Elanor blurted out.

"Oh?" Castiel prompted, waiting for the rest of the story.

"It didn't seem of particular importance," Othniel said. "We have met several demons this past year."

"Well - if she is being pursued by demons, you probably shouldn't have brought her here," Castiel pondered. "But... I have friends. I trust them, and so should you. I'll call them, and give you directions. They'll help you. But first, Othniel and I must speak privately." Castiel turned, gesturing for Elanor to sit, but for Othniel to follow him. They stepped from the room, and Elanor looked around curiously. She could see through the window that fed onto the work-floor more than sixty angels working in one aspect or another. She watched them, and occasionally one would look up at her curiously, and immediately return to their task. She waited less than ten minutes before Othniel re-entered the room. He held a small hand-drawn but expertly measured and directed map. They drove for a few hours, until a stormy chill was back in the air. The map had a number on it, and Elanor dialed it on her newest prepaid phone but there was no answer. The location they had been directed to was stoicly beautiful. It was a bunker, she realized, as they walked around it, through the brush and trees and rocks - and then to her concern she saw a door left open, a sub-terranian entrance. She inched nearer, glancing back to Othniel who stepped closer to her.

"What do you think happened?" she murmured to him. He didn't answer, instead stepped in ahead of her - she followed, reaching into her coat pocket, gripping the small blade she now carried religiously. They came down a narrow passage and around a corner and found themselves at the top of a utilitarian stair-case, wrapped around a circular room. They stepped down slowly, careful not to make much noise. And then Elanor saw a man, slumped against a wall far on the otherside of a length of tables, she darted past Othniel foolishly, who nearly sighed. The man was quite tall, and sat, his head tilted back, with his legs sprawled out before him, and his arms limp against the floor, she slid to her knees.

"Hey! Hey!" she murmured. "Are you hurt? Do you need help?" HIs eyes were glazed over a bit and she wasn't sure if he could even really see her. "Hey!" She reached out, gripping his shoulder, and the man shot out toward her, gripping her harshly by one arm, the other coming up to her throat. His hair fell into his face as he roared at her. Othniel interceded immediately - though made no move to injure the man. They were well-matched in stature - but Othniel's angelic strength gave him a slight edge that the man's raw rage couldn't quite overcome.

"Wait!" Elanor shouted. "Wait! Stop!" She saw a pistol laying next to where the man had been sitting and she scrambled to it - she aimed it at the men at first, and then shot into the ceiling. It burrowed into concrete, and though now her ears were ringing, the man had turned his attention to her. "Stop!" She screamed.

"Who are you?" the man demanded.

"I'm Elanor. This is Othniel," she replied immediately. Othniel may not have told him their names - but she felt as though something else were happening here. Something that wasn't at all about her presence.

"An angel?" he scoffed.

"Yes. Castiel sent us to you - he said you would be able to help."

"Castiel," the man repeated. He seemed to calm himself slightly. "Of course. Cas. What do you want?"

"He... just said you might help."

"Help with what?" The man seemed short-tempered and agitated. She didn't know how to explain. What to ask for. Othniel took over, the man worked his jaw.

"Castiel has a lot to deal with, since Metatron had been apprehended." The man set his jaw now, clenching his teeth. "I have been with Elanor for a year. Longer than she knows. Since I fell, I have been relentlessly drawn to her. I have been guarding her, watching over her. Expelling demons and keeping her hidden."

"And... why?" the man pressed. Elanor still hadn't asked his name. She wanted to.

"Castiel believes that I might be on a mission for God," Othniel replied. "Castiel told me to tell you that he trusts me."

"What is your name?" Elanor asked, stepping closer to the slowly calming man.

"Sam," he said. He looked at her fully, now. As a person rather than a fleeting threat. He forced a smile. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if I can help you right now. I kind of have a lot to deal with at the moment." Elanor glanced at the gun she still held, Sam reached out to take it from her but she hesitated before handing it over. She didn't quite trust his motives. He unloaded it, however - placing the gun and the clip on the table.

"Please, Sam," she began. But it was Othniel who made their case.

"The life I have pulled Elanor into is not agreeing with her. I fear that I'm unable to protect her. Castiel told me that this place was nearly impregnable. While she fears for the family she left behind I fear that it would be unwise to return to her home. Castiel informed me that you haven't responded to any of his attempts to contact you."

"So are you here to check on me?" Othniel didn't answer Sam's question. "Look, I sympathize. But I really - I actually need to go."

"We'll wait here," Othniel said. Sam was becoming irritated. He had left rage, and was entering exasperation.

"I'll clean," Elanor piped up. "And I'll cook if you want me to. And anything else I can help with. I'm a trained and well-educated librarian. I can help with your research." She gestured to the books that lined the walls, and a couple of the tables. "I have medical experience - mostly first aid for children, but still. I'll be useful. And Othniel isn't bothersome." Sam thought, but didn't comment, that they were both already bothersome.

"How are you with computers?" Sam asked with a sigh. Elanor grinned widely.