Author's Note: I'm just gonna go ahead and put this out there; I am of the school of thought that Castiel would like a woman and that Sam and Dean would not fu*k eachother. That's not to say I don't enjoy the occasional lemoney slash fic....just that I was looking for a love story containing Castiel and all I got were Dean/Cass fics. Not my cup of tea for this one. So this story features Castiel with a LADY and absolutely no sex or sexual tension between Sam and Dean...as they are brothers. And while I do like an occasional slash...incest - not so much.


"Yeah, see, that's not exactly how this works," Dean spit out, holding the blade of the knife to the pleading girl's throat.

"I'm not what you think I am," she rasped out, licking her lips.

Dean laughed harshly. "Are you or are you not a Demon?"

The dark-haired girl remained silent and Dean pressed the knife tighter against her throat, eliciting a trickle of blood and the quick electrical bursts that accompanied the exorcism of a Demon.

"Ok, ok" she cried. "I am a Demon but it's not what you think, I swear to you, Dean, it's not what you think. I'm here to help you."

"You know," Dean said viciously, shoving the girl roughly against the wall, bouncing her head off the plaster. "The last time I heard a load of bull like that, my brother was tricked into starting the Apocalypse."

"I know," she panted. "But I'm telling the truth. Call Cass, get him here, he'll tell you, I swear it."

"Yeah, I don't think so sweetheart," Dean hissed, tiring of the banter and pressing the knife deeper.

"Stop, Dean." The plaintive order came from behind Dean.

Dean glanced over his shoulder to see Castiel approaching.

"How'd ya find me, Cass, I thought the hoodoo you carved into my ribcage gave me the one up." Dean asked, not relaxing his stance.

"I didn't find you; I found her. She's telling the truth, release her."

"You want me to let the Hell bitch go?"

"Dean, now." Castiel said softly.

Reluctantly, Dean released the girl who moved toward Castiel quickly. She smiled at him kindly and the Angel reached out to reverently touch her face. "Hannah," he murmured.

"It's good to see you too, Cass," she replied, leaning her face into his palm.

"Someone better start explaining. Real fast," Dean spoke up, breaking the moment between the Angel and the Demon.

"This is Hannah," Castiel said softly, with shame coloring her voice. "We sent her to Hell,"

Hannah smiled and squeezed Castiel's arm gently. "I was an Angel. God told me that I was to give up my grace, to fall to Earth and become human. And afterwards, when I'd been human long enough to acquire emotions, he would smite those I loved. I was to make a deal with a Demon, to exchange my soul for the lives of those I loved and I was to suffer in the Pit until I was trusted enough to walk topside."

Dean squinted. "So what, you're like a spy or something."

Hannah moved toward him, but stopped short. "Dean, I know that it's hard for you to even entertain the idea of trusting a Demon. And I absolutely respect that. But I really am on your side. So you can be suspicious, and you can keep your distance, and you can take everything I say with a grain of salt – but you have my word that I will never intentionally hurt you or those you love. And I promise that you and I are fighting for the same side."

Dean regarded her for a moment. "Let me ask you something," he said finally. "Now I've been to Hell, and I know what you have to do to gain their trust. How can you stand there and pretend to have a shred of humanity left in you?"

Hannah looked down. "I'm not proud of what I've done, Dean, but there was no avoiding it. You, of all people, know that."

The room fell into silence for an instant.

"Fine," Dean said, ignoring the implications of Hannah's statement. "Now what?"

"First," Cass said stepping forward. "We give Hannah her grace back."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down Chuckles. You're going to put Angel grace into a Demon body? Isn't that, I don't know, against the basic laws of the universe or something?" Dean sputtered.

"We're not sure what will happen," Hannah admitted. "It's never been done. You should probably leave."

"Not likely." Dean said, dropping down to sit on the bed.

"You'll have to look away," Cass said pulling the vial of brilliant swirling blue from his pocket. Dean had to shade his eyes from the container's brilliance. Knowing that he didn't want to lose his eyes all together, Dean clamped his arm overtop them, shutting out the room completely. He heard the tinkling of broken glass, quickly overpowered by a deafening whoosh and Hannah's agonized wail. Dean's eyelids lit up a fiery white and the air seemed to instantly heat, then cool, both blowing and sucking in at once. He had to struggle to keep his arm over his eyes. When it calmed, Dean cautiously peeked out from behind his arm. Castiel was kneeling beside Hannah's twisted body on the floor.

"What happened," Dean thundered, leaping to his feet and moving to crouch beside Castiel.

"She's fine," Cass said stoically. "She'll be fine," he added with more conviction. He moved swiftly, lifting Hannah's limp body into his arms and laying her gently on the nearest bed.

"Ok, so what do we do now?" Dean asked, gazing at Hannah's inert form.

"We wait."

"Right. I'm taking a nap, wake me up if the end of the world comes."


"Dean, it's not really up for discussion." Hannah said gently. "If we're going to do this; if we're going to go to war without legions of Angels, then we need the best and the strongest. And Sam needs to drink."

Dean glared at Hannah then at Sam, who looked ashamed.

"Besides, it's not straight Demon blood. I'm half Angel, Dean, once Sam drinks my blood, he'll never crave Demon blood again." Sam's head snapped up at that.

"I won't" he whispered.

"No," Hannah breathed. "My blood will make you stronger than you can possibly imagine, and when this is over I will make sure you are healed completely of your addiction. You'll never need, nor want, to drink blood – of any kind – again. You have my word." She paused and looked up into Dean's surly face. "You both do."

"But he'll be temporarily addicted to your blood," Dean snapped. "You want him to trade one vice for another?"

"Dean, would you prefer your brother be addicted to Demon or Angel blood?"

"Neither,"

"There is no Option C, Dean, not this time. You have to trust me." Hannah pleaded.

"I can't," Dean said stubbornly.

Hannah sighed and dropped to sit next to Sam on the bed. "Fine," she breathed. "I'll make you a deal."

"A deal," Dean repeated.

"I'm still half Demon, I can make deals."

"What kind of deal?" Sam asked.

"You drink my blood, you fight this war at your best and when this is over, if or when we win – I will pluck both your parents from the Pit."

"Whoa, what the fuck do you mean both our parents?" Dean snarled.

Hannah looked genuinely confused. "Your mom made a deal, Dean. A deal with the Devil is a deal with the Devil. She wasn't exempt from consequence no matter how good her intentions."

Dean's voice was hoarse. "You're telling me that my mom is down there too?"

"I'm sorry, I thought you knew," Hannah answered softly.

Suddenly, Sam reached out and grabbed her face roughly. "That's the deal," he hissed urgently. "I drink your blood, we win this war, and you bring back Mom and Dad?"

"They've been gone a long time, Sam, so I don't know if I can bring them topside, but I can at least ascend them to Heaven." Hannah promised.

Sam glanced up at Dean for a split second before looking Hannah straight in the eye. "You have a deal," he choked out before pressing his lips urgently to hers. When he sat back, Hannah looked to Dean. He leaned down, his jaw quivering.

"You save my mom," he whispered before kissing her roughly on the mouth.

Hannah sat back when Dean released her. "Ok," she whispered, lifting the knife from the bedside table. "Now for your part of the bargain." She drew the knife deeply across her forearm and held it out to Sam. He took it gently and, not looking at Dean, pressed his mouth to the wound and drank. Dean moved to the nearest window and gazed stonily out.

Hannah gently pushed Sam away after a few minutes and he fell to the mattress, deep asleep. Dean glanced over questioningly.

"My blood is more potent than any he's ever drank," she said softly, rising and pressing her hand to the wound, healing it instantly. "His body is adjusting. He'll be out for awhile." Dean nodded silently and returned his gaze to the window. Hannah was quiet.

Castiel returned looking highly agitated and Dean immediately jumped up, questioning him.

"I was with Chuck," he informed them. "He had a prophecy concerning me."

"Good ole' Chuck the Prophet," Dean said sarcastically. Sam let out a loud snort and rolled over in his slumber.

Castiel glanced at him. "He drank," Hannah nodded. "Good," Castiel said solemnly.

"What did the Prophet say?" Hannah asked urgently.

"I'm to become human," Castiel said slowly. "I am to become human and then the vessel of Michael."

"An Angelic vessel," Hannah murmured in awe. "Of course. God is building us an army."

"Hey," Dean snapped. "Explain it to the human."

"Don't you see?" Hannah nearly laughed. "A Demon/Angel hybrid, an enhanced psychic human, an Angel within an Angel? Powerful beings assembled to fight. God is showing us the way to victory."

"Well isn't that just grand. And what am I supposed to do? Be the water boy to team God?"

"When the time comes, we'll know." Castiel vowed.

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped gracelessly into the nearest chair. "Alright, so you've got to become a meat suit. And Michael will possess said meat suit. I swear to God, though, Cass, if this Michael is an ass hat like the others…" he let his threat drift off.

Castiel stared at him. "You never had a way with words, but, yes, essentially."

"And that guy you got in there with you? You remember Jimmy, I presume," Dean asked.

"Jimmy will ascend into Heaven; it's what he wants."

"You sure about that, Angel boy?" Dean countered.

"I do share his mind." Cass said evenly.

Dean shrugged. "Fine. So how do we do this? Do we rip your grace out?"

"I have to sin," Castiel said quietly.

"Oh," Dean said. "That I can do. What's your poison? Liquor, gambling, women?"

Castiel shook his head. "It has to be one of the seven mortal sins."

"Alright," Hannah said slowly. "We've got Greed, Pride, Sloth, Lust, Gluttony, Envy, or Wrath,"

Dean smirked. "Guilty, guilty, guilty, super guilty, guilty, guilty, and guilty. I can hold your hand through any of these Cass."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "You don't get it. Contrary to your suspicious mind, Castiel is one of the good guys. He's not programmed to commit these sins. He doesn't covet, he's not prideful, he's not indifferent toward his salvation, he's doesn't lust, he doesn't waste, he doesn't resent other's gains, and he most definitely does not seek vengeance."

"Come on," Dean said, eyeing Castiel. "There's got to be something bad you want to do."

Castiel shrugged. "No,"

They fell into silent thought.

Suddenly Hannah jumped up. "It's lust," she said. Without warning, she tore the front of her shirt open, sending buttons flying and exposing a white lacy bra. Dean jumped a little, raised an appreciative eyebrow, and cleared his throat. Castiel regarded her without obvious interest. She walked toward him, reached out and slid his trench coat down his arms. Hannah un-looped his tie, letting it fall to the floor, and started in on the buttons to his shirt.

"Don't you see," she murmured, pressing her lips against his newly exposed collarbone. Cass didn't react in any way. "Wrath, greed, sloth, pride, envy, gluttony – those are sins that require a conscious effort – or lack there of. Your mind, it doesn't work like a human mind, Cass, it's programmed not to sin. But this body," she went on raking her nails down his exposed chest. "This body can lust. It's biological. Let it."

Dean tugged on his collar, flexed his neck, and watched as Hannah let her shirt fall away. She pressed her lips against Castiel's and began kissing him in a way that made the room suddenly feel very warm to Dean. Still, Castiel didn't react. His eyes remained open as Hannah's mouth worked at his and his hands stayed at his sides. Hannah bit his lower lip gently. "Cass," she breathed in his ear. "Stop thinking."

Slowly his hands rose to her hips and his eyes fluttered closed as she kissed him, and soon he was kissing her back. With fervor. A low growl rumbled in his bare chest.

Dean cleared his throat, loudly, and Hannah glanced over her shoulder. Her pupils had dilated, turning her green iris' pitch black, but leaving the white around them untouched. She smiled sheepishly, grabbed Castile by his belt buckle and dragged him into the bathroom, slamming the door behind them.