Supernatural and Castiel © Kripke, Singer, Gamble
Elizabeth Williams © SiriusOutlook

Description:She was just another assignment from Michael. Some nonentity angel to keep an eye on that was always breaking the rules. Rules that, to Castiel, were far too simple for anyone to ever break them. Yet, during his time as her partner she always found a way to cross the line. He never understood her deep affection for humans, but then he never quite figured her out either. The day she fell was when everything changed.
When she pulled out her grace and plummeted into her newborn, human body, he thought he'd never forgive himself, and so he chose to watch over her. She had forgotten about him, of course. Forgotten Heaven, just like Anna had, and was living an all too normal, human life. It was when Michael assigned him to raise the Winchester brother from Hell that trouble started. He just hoped he could keep her as his secret.

Saving Chaos

Somewhere there's a stolen halo,
I used to watch her wear it well
Everything would shine wherever she would go
But looking at her now, you'd never tell...
~Big and Rich

This isn't my story.

Well, I suppose it's my story. It involves me greatly, but it's not about me only. It would really be "our" story, since I'm the reason for half of it.

Now, the other half of the "our" I'm referring to isn't who you think it is. They are involved, of course, and are an important piece of this history, but the two of them are rather on the sidelines. I made certain of that, for good reason. This isn't about hunting demons, slaying monsters, or stopping the Apocaplypse, though that is all very important indeed. This story is about a girl.

I know what you're thinking. 'A girl, Castiel? Surely not,' but, yes. You wouldn't know of her. That I can promise you. I may be an angel, but I do know a great something about keeping secrets. You probably already knew that. I'm certain you already know a lot of things about me.

However, this is about the things you don't know. The things you never saw, the things you never heard of. This is about me, but more importantly, it's about her...

She never liked the strange looks she got when she told people she heard angels. She was certain that her pastor thought her to be crazy, though she knew he would never speak it. To say you're a radio outlet for Heaven isn't something people believe with ease. The fact that she'd begun to tell others at such a young age made it even harder for anyone to trust her.

She was just a little girl the first day she heard them, and she had run to her mother in wonder and excitement, but the woman simply smiled and told her it was "a beautiful thing to dream of." When she began insisting it over time, her parents became impatient and told her to stop talking about it. When she went to her teachers, they told her she had a wonderful imagination, while the other children simply teased and made fun of her. When humans are so young it's easy to not be taken seriously. She grew up thinking that most of what she heard was simply what others told her; a phase that she would outgrow with age.

Over time, you might say that's what happened. She heard the same answers so much that they eventually became reality. She didn't outgrow the voices, that wouldn't be possible, but over time a wall was built. After years of being told it was all in her head, she had begun to fear she was truly insane when they didn't go away, so she blocked them out herself. Sometimes the echos from the past are too loud to run from. That's the price of falling, I suppose. It's the one reason I was too afraid to ever do it myself.

By the time she was thirteen, she couldn't hear the angels anymore. Years went by, and though she grew in every way a child could, she always stayed the same to everyone around her. Strange, awkward, a social outcast. Always seated in the back of class with her nose in a book or scribbling away in her notepad. The other children often took it from her and would normally try to read it or hide it somewhere. Her glasses broke twice because at times they shoved her down too hard.

As she grew older everyone eventually seemed to leave her alone. She was still picked on every now and again, but she learned to laugh it off and not let the words harm her. In high school she found her friends. Real people that shared her pain and were truly there for her, but after their graduation they all went their separate ways. A couple of them stayed in touch in small ways, but otherwise, they drifted.

She moved out of her family's flat when she turned nineteen and moved into a place of her own. It was small and rested above a bookstore in a quiet neighborhood in south London. The only person to bother her was her cat. A small, round, dark-furred creature that stayed at her heels and often tripped her, making her spill her tea. I liked that cat. He gazed me down with wide, yellow eyes when I came to watch over her, and she would always ask him what he was staring at.

Dean Winchester is saved...

The day the voices came again was a difficult one. I was on the other side of the world at the time, but I could still hear her prayers. She was panicking, and I knew why they had returned to her. The Apocalypse was nye, and her walls were to weak to keep out the building energy erupting so violently around us all. Part of me found it ironic. So few people knew anything about Armageddon unless they were directly involved. Now that terror was coming down upon a simple English girl who'd never known anything outside of her home city.

After first appearing to Dean, I left him alone with Bobby Singer and made my way to her home. Her apartment was dark, save for a small lamp beside her couch. A book lay open, facedown on the floor. I didn't see her anywhere, nor her cat, but a soft speaking led me to her kitchen.

She sat on the floor, leaning against the dark wooden cabinets, a dark ball of fur tucked tightly under her arms. Her eyes were closed behind her horn-rimmed glasses, and her long, mousy-brown hair hung messily in her face.

"No," she whimpered quietly into the ball of fur. "No, you're not real. Go away."

She repeated the words over and over, gently rocking back and forth. I stayed hidden from her as I knelt beside her small form, moving in close to her to sit. I placed a hand on her arm, and her quiet crying ceased. At that moment, the black cat nestled in her arms raised it's head and turned to me. A growling noise emitted from it's throat that I understood as purring. She squeezed the animal and pulled it closer to her face.

"Don't be afraid," I said to her quietly. "You have nothing to fear."

She froze at my voice, breathing and all. If I didn't know better, I may have thought she'd died, but a second later she collapsed into a silent sobbing that shook her body. I put my free hand on her other arm, and focussed. "You have nothing to fear," I said again. "I promise."

Her crying continued, but I felt her resign into a feeling of security. She sat there the rest of the night, and I sat beside her.

As days went by, she seemed to grow accustomed to her abilities again. Every now and then I'd visit only to find her stopping in the middle of an activity to stare into space, and I knew she wasn't just hearing, but listening. There were many times when I knew she sensed me there. She'd look up from her reading or sketching to gaze around her flat with a searching look on her face, only to stop and stare near where I stood.

At times, I'd sit next to her and look over her shoulder at what she was drawing or to read whatever book she had. Most of her sketches were of strange animals only she knew, or visions of fantasy from the stories she read, though every now and then she'd draw scenes of humans with large, beautifully feathered wings.

I found the reasoning to appear to her a particular time when her anxiety had reached a peak. As she exited her house to begin work at the cafe near her home, I appeared near a crosswalk and stood waiting to cross as she passed me. Just before she rounded the corner, she stopped and turned in my direction. I looked her way only to lock eyes with her questioning, brown ones. There was a moment of confusion in her pale face as she stared at me, her lips parted slightly. I kept my face blank as I held her gaze and dipped my head to her. After a few more moments, she nodded slightly before turning hurriedly away from me to round the corner, glancing back only once.

When the Winchesters found the past angel, Anna, something in me shifted. I remembered her, though I hadn't pursued her after her falling. Her disobedience had left me chagrinned. Yet, when our orders came through to eliminate her, I found myself conflicted. We had history, and that meant something to me. I didn't wish to be the destruction of someone I still considered a friend to me. It was then that I materialized to her again, only this time, not inconspicuously.

She was making tea as I appeared in her kitchen, and the moment she turned to see me, her cup hit the ground with a crash, sending hot liquid spilling onto herself and the floor. She fearfully backed into the countertop with a yell, and the cat leaped with a hiss from her shoulder to the top of the refrigerator, turning to and stare at me in surprise.

"It's you," she gasped staring at me with fear from over her glasses, "Who are you?"

"Don't be afraid," I said solemnly. "I'm not here to harm you."

At my voice, her face fell from fear and into an astonished seriousness, and her stiff body nearly went limp. She sat up straight from leaning back over the countertop and blinked numerous times, her eyes narrowed.

"Castiel?" Her voice came as a harsh whisper as she spoke my name. "The angel, Castiel?"

"Yes," I said evenly, glancing at the black cat that had now settled on top of the refrigerator, curling it's paws under it's chest. It blinked once and continued to stare. "You know of me."

She relaxed a bit more and nodded, still slightly wide eyed. "I remember your voice. They talk about you a lot." She brushed her hand over her face shakily, moving the stray hairs from her eyes. "You're the one who's been staying with me. Aren't you?"

I nodded again. "Yes."

She shifted and turned away from me slightly, looking down at the floor to hide her face. "I saw you a few weeks ago on the street," she spoke shakily. "Why are you here? Why showing yourself to me? Why can I hear them again?" Her questions came quickly, and she looked up, not giving me a chance to answer. "Is it all really ending?"

I didn't speak, but stepped forward, stopping for a second when she nervously leaned backwards over the counter again. When she relaxed again, I stepped closer and reached for her hand gripping the countertop. I heard her breath catch in her throat as I took her fingers in my own, looking curiously at the red mark on her knuckles that had arisen from the spilled tea. She watched in shock as I ran my thumb over it, making the burn disappear.

Gingerly, she pulled her hand from mine and looked at it in wonder before she raised her eyes. "Thank you."

I nodded and gazed back into her dark brown globes. "I'm here to help you. I promise I'll answer all of your questions."

Minutes later she was seated on her sofa, her legs pulled up underneath her, large pillow held defensively in her arms. Her cat leaped onto the arm of the old piece of furniture, and settled beside her. I stood by the window, looking out of it at the rain that had begun to fall, and glanced around the flat at the dancing shadows when a bolt of lightning struck.

I felt her watching my back from across the room and turned around. "Are you ready?"

She nodded nervously, but stopped after a minute, looking around. "Could you sit? You're making me nervous standing there."

I didn't quite understand how my standing made her anxious, but I quietly obliged. After a moments consideration, I took a seat on the sofa beside her. She looked at me from the corner of her eyes, tensely picking at her fingernails. I gazed at her for a moment before reaching over to rest my hand over hers. Instantly, she became less tense and her fingers relaxed. I moved my hand from hers once again and she sat nodding for a second.

"It really is happening, isn't it? The end of the world?"

I nodded quietly. "Yes, it is."

Taking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes for a moment and seemed to squeeze her pillow tighter. "That's why I'm hearing them again, isn't it? I haven't heard them in so long, I actually believed that they were really just my imagination." She trailed off for a moment, staring off into space. "I've been able to pick up on certain things they talk about. There's a lot about you and some boys from America."

"Please," I spoke gently, "Allow me to explain everything."

For the next hour she sat hugging her pillow as she listened to me speak, the cat sitting beside her cleaning its fur. As she began to unwind, I stood a walked around the room a bit, looking about her apartment at the odd little nicknacks on her shelves. She watched me closely and listened intently as I told her of Sam and Dean, myself and my partner, Uriel, our mission to stop the Apocalypse, and of Anna. He demeanor changed numerous times throughout. She seemed to fear me slightly at my mention of our orders. At mentions of Sam and Dean she seemed to relax and would often nod in understanding. When I mentioned Anna, her whole body went stiff.

"We've been ordered to eliminate her due to her possibility of endangering the mission, and her former disobedience," I spoke while scratching at a spot of peeling paint on her windowsill and glanced continuously out the window at the pouring rain. "It's not something I wish to do, but it must be done. She's a danger to the balance." I turned to her slowly and watched as she gazed at me anxiously. "I don't wish the same for you."

She pulled her legs in more and hugged the pillow tighter, her eyes narrowing in thought. "But I don't remember anything. If what you're saying is true, then why can't I remember being an angel?"

"It's what happens when you fall," I explained. "You separate from your grace and your essence takes the place of a human soul. You are born, live, and die as a human, and whatever memories you have of Heaven are closed out by your human mind."

"Then what about Anna? How did she remember?"

I sighed and picked at the peeling paint on the windowsill again. "Sam and Dean had her hypnotized. The procedure brought forth her angelic memories. When that happened, she became dangerous."

At this, she took her glasses off and rubbed her face, shaking her head in disbelief. "This is all so unbelievable. Why does it have to be me when I just want to be left alone."

"You can be," I said, turning around again. "That's why I'm here. I want to give you a choice. Whether you stay human or not, you will always have the voices inside you, but you can be left alone as long as you stay out of the way. Otherwise, if you choose to return to Heaven, you may be putting yourself at risk."

She shook her head again and put her glasses back on. "How the bloody hell could I just return to Heaven? Like all I have to do is snap my fingers?"

I tilted my head at her in confusion. "No, you'd have to do much more than that. You'd have to find your grace first. That could take ages."

Something like a growl escaped her throat and she flopped backwards into the couch. The cat shifted to look at her for a moment before it continued cleaning his paws. "That was rhetorical," she mumbled aggressively into the pillow. "I don't want to deal with this. All I ever wanted was to be normal! Instead I have to hear voices my whole life and be shunned by everyone, and then later find out I'm some sort of a fallen, celestial entity!"

"You didn't fall out of spite," I offered. "You never wished to cause trouble. You were simply unhappy with the way things had to be. You were very empathetic to humans."

She looked up at me with a grave emotion in her eyes, her eyebrows knitted together in uncertainty. "How do you know all this? Why are you the one that's come to me?"

I lowered my eyes and put my hands in my trench coat, feeling awkward. After a moments hesitation I spoke again. "I've been watching you for a very long time. I've been protecting you at my own will."

She gaze at me, her face still riddled with confusion. "Why," she asked again.

Glancing around the room once more, I cleared my throat. "We were close during your time in Heaven. You were one of the greatest allies anyone could ask for. It saddened me when you fell, Aristel."

"My name is Elizabeth." Her voice was harsh, and turned to look out at the rain again.

"My apologies," I replied evenly, and cleared my throat again. "I feel that you are choosing to stay as you are. Is that right, Elizabeth?"

Shifting on the sofa she stared down at the floor in front of her. She stayed that way for a long time, staring at the floorboards and gingerly picking at her fingernails again. I waited patiently, gazing out at the rain, looking into the windowpane to watch her reflection every now and again.

"I just want to be normal," she finally said quietly. "I don't want to get in anyone's way."

I suddenly ached for her. My mind went back in time to her human childhood. Every day of sitting behind her in the empty seat at the back of her classroom, watching her as she drew in her diary or snuck her own books behind her textbooks so she wouldn't get caught reading them. Of walking beside her as she made her way home through the rain after school. The days of watching from the end of the hall as she moved through her high school, quietly keeping her distance from the people around her. The name calling, the shoving, the loneliness.

Then I went back farther. I went back decades.

"I don't understand," she sighed to me as we sat at a park bench together, watching as the different people went by and their children ran about on the playground. "Why must we let things just happen the way they do, when we have the power to stop it?"

"It's just the way things have to be," I replied with a shrug. "I don't question our father when I know he understands more than we."

She slumped against the bench and folded her arms across her chest. "Sometimes it doesn't feel right. There's so much we could do to help them, and I feel like we do so little in comparison."

"How do you mean?" I asked tilting my head at her and pushing my glasses up my nose.

She opened her mouth to speak again, yet before she could answer, there was a cry from across the park. I looked over to see a small boy who'd fallen from a swing set, then glanced back to Aristel only to find her seat empty. She had already moved to the boy's side and kneeled down to him. To my surprise, the boy looked up at her as he hugged his knee which was now bleeding lightly down his leg. I watched curiously. We normally weren't supposed to let ourselves be seen.

Aristel gently tugged at the boy's leg and smiled at him graciously. The child ceased his crying almost instantly and watched her in wonder. A small knot formed in my chest as she gently placed a finger near his injury and it vanished without a trace. The boy stared at her in shock, a small smile spreading across his face. She smiled at him in return and placed a finger to her lips before standing and walking back over to me, hands in her trench coat.

Standing, I adjusted my fedora and stuffed my own hands in my jacket pockets with a glare in her direction.

"Are you going to tell me I shouldn't have done that?" She asked easily as she walked up, her heels clicking on the sidewalk.

"He would have been fine on his own," I replied pushing my glasses up my nose and turning to walk to the street.

She followed me, staying close by my side. "I know. Though sometimes I just want to help more than hover around."

"Is that what you meant by 'we do so little?'"

"I suppose, but on a larger scale as well. You know there is much we could do to help that we don't, Castiel." She nudged me gently in the arm and my hat fell down over my eyes. I adjusted it impatiently and pushed my glasses up my nose again, a small habit my vessel had never broken.

"There is a natural order to things. You know that." I looked around at the street lamps that were slowly being draped in fog as the sun sank lower in the sky. "If we interfere too much things wont turn out the way they should. We can only help in small ways."

She ran a hand through her red, bobbed hair. "I don't think it should always be that way. Such horrible things happen to such good people."

I stopped and grinned at her sympathetically. "If we do things right, it will seem as though we've done nothing at all. That's how it has to be, otherwise they won't live for themselves."

She nodded and slowly moved past me, looking back at me over her shoulder. "Sometimes it just doesn't seem fair."

The memory drifted and I returned to the present, gazing at her reflection in the window. You've always been different, I thought morosely. You were created that way.

Turning back around, I leaned against the windowsill and peered at her evenly. "If you wish to stay as you are, it's alright."

There were tears brimming in her eyes. She tossed the pillow aside and in its place, pulled the cat from his spot on the sofa, who looked about in confusion for a moment before settling into her lap. She stroked his head and gazed out the window behind me before looking up into my eyes.

"The voices wont go away?"

I shook my head. "Possibly over a greater time, but for the moment, they will stay with you."

She nodded and looked down at the floor again. When she spoke again, her voice was shaky. "I've never wanted to get in anyone's way. I never wanted to cause trouble or inconvenience anyone. If I fell, then I can only assume I did it because I thought it was for the better for everyone. I think I should stay this way. It seems to be the only answer that makes sense."

I felt a small wave of relief come through me at her words, though they stung in ways that somehow made me feel regret. "I'm glad you feel that way," I said quietly. "I felt it would be best to let you decide on your own on case any trouble were to come your way."

She nodded again and grinned up at me sorrowfully, yet with a glimmer of gratefulness in her face. "Thank you for coming to me when you did and for telling me. I'm not sure what I would have done if you hadn't. I wasn't sure if I was going crazy or not anymore. Thank you, Castiel."

"I can assure you you're not crazy," I said standing up straight, "but you're welcome. Though now that you've made this decision there is something I need to do."

"What is it?" She seemed afraid at my comment, and looked me up and down with nervousness.

"Don't be afraid," I said moving over to her. "I need you to relax."

"What are you going do?" She held the cat tightly.

"I'm going to mark you with something that will keep you concealed. Now that you've chosen to stay here this way, you need to stay hidden from certain angels. They may find you dangerous, and if so, I need to keep you safe."

Elizabeth shifted in her seat, "Why would they find me dangerous?"

"They may not," I said gently. "You never disobeyed, but the fact that you fell still may make you a target of concern for them. You know of the trouble on Earth right now. I want to keep you safe from anything that may happen." She gazed up at me anxiously and clenched her jaw. "Trust me," I asked her quietly.

There was a moment of doubt in her eyes as she peered at me from the sofa, but it vanished and she took in a deep breath and nodded solemnly. "Alright."

I dipped my head at her and moved forward. She let go of the cat who jumped from her arms as I approached. "Just relax," I said, reaching up to put a hand to the side of her temple. "I'll make this as easy as possible." As I touched her, her eyes fluttered and I reached out to hold her shoulder and easily lay her back on the sofa. She let out a sigh as her head touched the pillow, and her body relaxed fully as she lost consciousness.

I looked carefully at her face, making sure she was truly asleep before I placed my fingers on her ribs and focussed, burning the Enochian symbols into the bone. Elizabeth stirred for a second, whimpering in her sleep from the pain, but my touch kept her under until I was finished a second later.

Lifting my fingers from her, I sat on the edge of the sofa next to her. There was a mew from the bookshelf and I looked up to see the cat perched questioningly above my head. He mewed again and looked from me to the girl on the couch, yellow eyes wide.

"Don't worry, she'll be alright."

The cat tucked it's paws under it's chest and looked lazily around the room.

I turned back to Elizabeth and reached out to touch her temple once again. She stirred for a moment before her eyes fluttered open and she squinted up at me with a groan. "What happened?"

"It's done," I answered. "You're well hidden now. If any angels come looking for you, they wont be able to find you."

She moved to sit up and leaned against the arm of the sofa with a heavy breath. "My chest hurts."

"The pain will go away shortly," I stood and reached up to the bookshelf scratch the cat on the ears. "I should go, I've spent too much time here."

"Will you be back?"

Her question surprised me and I looked down into her concerned face as she gazed up at me timidly. Reading her fear was easy enough, but her thoughts and reasoning behind it were clouded. I spoke reassuringly and dipped my head. "If you wish for me to return, then I will."

A bit of relief seemed to wash over her and she managed a small smile. "Please do," she whispered shakily.

I left her home then. There was work to be done.

To be continued. Thank you for reading. Please review!