Castiel slumped against a tree, his body finally giving out on him. As he sat, propped up, staring at the dimming light from his car's tail light, he hear Hannah get out of the car. He winced, trying to muster up the strength to try to appear stronger than he was, knowing he couldn't hide it from her anymore.
She was by his side in an instant, kneeling beside him, her blue eyes darkened with worry. "The car ran out of gas," he explained, stammering breathlessly, as he gave her a thin smile. "We need more."
"You've run out of gas," she pointed out, and Castiel had to smile again at her attempt at soft humor, even though her expression was serious.
"You have to go," he told her, slumping further against the tree as he felt his strength failing him. "The town isn't far. You can probably find another vehicle. Get to Dean, find the rogues."
"I can't," she protested, arching a brow in fear. She gazed around the dark woods they'd found themselves stranded in. "I don't know anything about this world. You can't die, Castiel…"
Castiel felt sad, gazing at her apologetically at her plea. She was pleading with him not to die. "I've accepted my fate," he told her sadly, his eyes gazing up to meet hers. "Perhaps… it's fitting for all the suffering I've caused."
She frowned at that. "You think you deserve this?" her tone was accusing, almost hostile. But her expression softened immediately. He watched as she turned to glance at the road behind them, the dark asphalt dimly lit by the dying glow of the car's headlights as the last of the gas finally shut the whole thing off. Castiel watched as the world around them went dark. The car had finally given out, just as he, the last of his borrowed grace failing, was about to do.
"Hannah," his stammering voice turned her attention back to him, her face now only illuminated by the moonlight above. "I know you have what it takes to continue on," he told her. "You can be the leader I never was."
She studied him for a moment, saying nothing, a long pause passing in which nothing could be heard other than the crickets, the owls, and Castiel's labored breathing. "No," she said simply. He raised a brow at the defiance in her voice.
"What do you mean no?" he blinked slowly. "I don't have long left, Hannah, you have to promise me."
"You've taught me about choices," she told him. "So now I'm making one." As he watched, frowning in confusion, she pulled the angel blade from her pocket.
"What are you doing?" he asked in confusion as she held the blade up, staring at the sleek metal.
"You need more grace," she replied. "You've made it clear that you won't take it from another angel or seek Metatron out for it, so I am acting for you."
Suddenly, it dawned on Castiel what Hannah was planning to do. He sucked in a breath, trying desperately to hoist his body up, reaching out for her, but she jerked away and put the blade to her own throat.
"Hannah!" Castiel pleaded, his arms outstretched to her. "Don't! Let me-" too late. She sliced deep into her skin, letting out a gasp as blood erupted from the wound and the blue glow of grace appeared. She dropped the blade and turned to him, determination in her eyes.
"No," he resisted when she pulled him away from the tree by the collar of his shirt and yanked him forward. He struggled to pull away, but his feeble attempts were no match for her grip on him.
"I want to do this," she gasped, breath hitched as blood trickled down her neck. She lowered herself so that they were eye level then, forcefully pushed him against her. "Take it," she insisted as a whisp of grace slithered out of her neck towards him. He tried once again to pull away as it got closer, but she pulled him back to her and he was compelled in inhale.
Castiel immediately began to feel the strength renewed as he inhaled the grace deeply. Once the angelic power began to course through him, he felt compelled to inhale again, hungrily lapping up more and more of Hannah's grace. He closed his eyes as he felt the immense relief within his body that the grace provided. He faded out of his mind for a split second, savoring it.
But as he came back to his mind, his eyes snapped open as he pulled away from her. Quickly, and now with renewed power, he placed a hand over her throat and healed the wound.
Hannah gasped, falling forward. Castiel caught her against him. Her body shivered against his as he held her, desperately surging through the emotions. He gripped her shoulders and pulled her off of him if only to look her in the eyes.
"Why!" he demanded. She gasped, her own body weakened now, her eyes barely slits as she wavered in his grip.
"I… couldn't watch you die," she gasped, her body swaying, Castiel supporting her by the shoulders. "You are needed more than I am."
Castiel shook his head, "no," he said, he thought nothing could be further from the truth. No angel or human truly needed him, after all, what had he done but cause destruction and death to them. He was well aware most angels wanted him dead, they blamed him for the fall, but not more than he blamed himself. The truth was, perhaps he hadn't been focused very hard on helping himself because he didn't want to be helped. Because the only way he could see to make up for his mistakes was with his own life. But now…
He looked Hannah over. She was weak, but as she quivered in his arms, he could still see, with the power of his angelic senses, that there was still a very faint hint of grace within her, if only a teardrop's worth.
"I didn't take it all," he announced, taking only a small comfort in the fact that he hadn't left her completely deprived. He felt sick to his stomach as he dwelled on what he'd just done. The one thing he swore never to do again, to take another angel's grace just so he could live, he'd done it again. It didn't matter to him that she'd given her consent, that she'd all but forced it on him, he should have tried harder to resist. Now, their roles were reversed. She was the one whose strength waned.
He left her fall against him again, her head resting against his chest as he tried to think of what to do. "You need rest and you can make more," he said aloud to her and to himself. She'd be okay, he'd make sure of that.
"We don't have time for me to recover," she insisted. "We have a mission, as you have said. You should leave me."
Castiel realized that what he was about to do might label him a hypocrite in her eyes. He'd insisted over and over that their mission, the road they were on, took precedence over his needs, yet here he was, ready to drop everything to save her. But how could he not? How could he just leave her to die after what she'd just done for him. He felt moved beyond words by her action, yet he couldn't help but feel that here was another angel that he'd caused harm to.
"I don't care about the mission right now," he told her as he moved to get to his feet, pulling her up with him. "Without your grace, you are vulnerable to the dangers of this world, and you will be extremely weakened until you have a chance to recover it. I'm not going to leave you at the mercy of these humans."
But as she leaned against him, he turned towards the car and frowned. The nearest town was a few miles away and they were out of gas. There had been no other cars on this road since they had pulled over. It was desolate. What were his options? Neither one of them could fly. He could carry her into town, but then he'd still have to leave her to go back and get the car. He had one other option and he didn't like it.
"I have to go get gas for the car," he told her hesitantly. She looked up at him, blearily blinking lethargically at him. "Can you walk?"
She tried. Trying to push past him to take a step, but immediately collapsed, Castiel moving quick to catch her. She shivered as the wind blew at them furiously. Castiel winced. With such diminished grace, Hannah was closer to being human than she had been before, just as Castiel had been when Metatron had taken his grace. She'd be tired, hungry, vulnerable to the elements, to sicknesses, to violence. And the sudden extraction of so much of her grace had already made her extremely weak. The world was a very dangerous place for a graceless angel.
But Castiel had no choice. They'd be going nowhere without a car. He held her up, let her lean against him, helped her walk, until they managed to get to the car. He helped her into the back seat to lay down. He noticed her shiver and quickly removed his trenchcoat, draping it over her. He kneeled down in the opened door to be at eye level with her. "I'm going to walk to town," he said. "I'll bring back some gas and then we'll go find a motel."
"And then what?" she lifted her head, blinking.
"And then I'll take care of you," he promised. "Until your grace replenished. And then you have to promise me not to do that again."
She frowned and said nothing, laying her head back down on the seat. Castiel hesitated when he didn't get acknowledgment. "Hannah."
"I can't promise that, Castiel," she said, burying her face into the seat, and thus ending the conversation. Castiel stared at her dark brown hair, pursing his lips in frustration. He didn't even know how to argue with her. It was unfathomable to him that she would be willing to sacrifice herself for him like this, he didn't understand why she thought he deserved it. But he felt grateful, and closer to her than before. As he stared at her silent form, noticing she was already starting to drift to sleep, he felt a need to protect her.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised, reaching out to brush the top of her head with his fingers, unsure of why he felt compelled to make such a gesture.
With that, he stood up and closed the door, turning, he broke into a run, heading towards town as fast as he could.