2

She sat quite close to him on the bench, her hood pushed back. A tangle of chestnut-coloured ringlets fell to her shoulders. Her otherness was plain to see now, as he had first perceived it. She was shaken, but something kept her from collapsing altogether, something deeper and stronger than human strength.

"You said you were here through free will," she spoke thoughts aloud as they occurred to her. "I thought only people had free will. And you look human. Aren't angels supposed to be too incredible to look at?"
"This is a vessel."
"Are you answering my prayer or did you just notice me? Why aren't you in Heaven? What's it like?"

Castiel patiently extended a finger and placed it over her lips. "My story is not of import. Yours on the other hand must be unravelled. What are you?"
"I'm human."
"Humans cannot resist angelic influence."
"But can't humans have powers sometimes?"
"No. There are humans, and there are creatures who possess power."

She looked disturbed – rightly so. She might seem indomitable, but she was obviously a sentient being.
"What should I call you?" he asked in a conspicuously gentler tone.
"Faye. And you?"
"Castiel."
"That's weirder than mine."
"Faye is a nice name."
"Yeah, but it's short for Fayebelle."

She looked as if she would say something more, but crossed her arms instead.

"Faye," he murmured, "we will find out who you are together. Does that sound agreeable?"
"That is the most useful thing anyone's said to me in a long time."
"Have you noticed any signs of – unnatural abilities?"

She barked a short humourless laugh. "You could say, yeah. My friend was stabbed outside a club. By the time the ambulance arrived she was walking around, completely fine. She said when I touched her the wound healed."
"When was that?"
"A week ago. My twenty-first."

He hesitated, then put his hand over hers. "Your friend is lucky that you were with her."
"She still won't talk to me properly. No-one else knows." Faye studied Castiel's fingers. Warmth blossomed between their skin. "I saw him knife her, and he came for me. When he grabbed me his veins turned dark and he looked really ill. I mean on the verge of death. The cops took him away."

Castiel resisted the instinct to snatch his arm back. Nothing had happened to him yet. "You seem to have control. You achieved the best result under extreme pressure."
"You say that like I'm not a danger to humanity," she mumbled. "What if it's worse? What if I hurt people who don't deserve it? I can't trust myself with anyone."
"I feel fine."
"You're an angel."
"My divine power failed to work on you," he replied grudgingly. "Though I should like to see you up against the might of an archangel. I am only from the mid-ranks, and I have been cut off from Heaven."

A breeze lifted the branches, and the sound of rustling leaves permeated the air. Faye stiffened. "Do you feel like we're being watched?"
"Not really."
"I swear I can feel things – noticing me."

She stood and swivelled slowly, searching the trees and thickets. Following her gaze, Castiel discerned a pair of lights leering out of the gloom, small and close together. More arrived, blinking into existence at different heights.

So much for having a minute to myself, he grumbled internally. Two new anomalies in the space of an hour.

"We need to go," he was on his feet. "I'm not eager to find out what they are – or what they want."

In truth he was anxious to identify them and whether they posed a threat to her. But the need to keep Faye out of harm's way was more pressing. He still needed to decide whether she was a threat, to the angels or to humanity. Not that she could cause a fraction of the damage that Lucifer would inflict upon the world when he had what he wanted.

Should he take her to the Winchesters?

He shuddered strangely at the idea, shooting a sidelong glance at the petite girl, sylphlike and vulnerable. Sam would still be recovering from his lust for demon blood - and with Sam out of sorts, Dean wouldn't be in a healthy frame of mind. Castiel had enough reasons not to trust the Winchesters after what had happened with Ruby. Putting Faye in their hands felt too much like a risk - a risk that they might imprison or dispatch her, a risk that they might try to use her to their own ends.

On the other hand, he needed their expertise. What was the first thing that a hunter would do?

"Where is your nearest library?" he asked.
She glanced at him incredulously. "At night? Right now?"
"It may contain books of lore that will help us to classify you."
"Classify," she echoed with distaste. "Fine. What if those things follow me?"

The 'things' didn't seem to be moving any closer. They regarded her with an eerie intensity. Whether their gaze was inquisitive or malicious was unclear.

"If they follow, I will deal with them," he growled, grasping her slender hand and set off down the path. "Direct me to the nearest library," he repeated.
"Turn around," she said, and with a sigh he doubled back to cut straight across the park.

"Could you –" she stammered, and he realised that he was pulling her too roughly. His grip and his heart softened together. It wasn't her fault. She was floundering into the unknown.

Ten minutes of brisk walking ended at the locked doors of Elizabeth Public Library.

"How do we get –" she stopped, and then gaped at him through the glass. "So you can teleport," she said, her voice muffled. "Right."
"Stay there," he ordered, and marched off in search of some useful documents.

Faye's room was the only private place in her 'college halls', as she called the apartment. Castiel perched on the end of the mattress as she curled up by the headboard, trying to ignore the intimacy of the space, and together they scoured the two books he had managed to find. The material was hardly ancient, and barely academic.

"This isn't working," she stated at last, throwing the text down. It bounced and lay still on the covers.

He knew where he was much more likely to find reliable lore. But that involved travelling without her, and making sure he wasn't caught. Bobby Singer's book collection was his most prized possession.

Suddenly Castiel's stomach dropped by a few inches. The air tingled around him. His head span.

"Zachariah," he gasped. "He has Sam and Dean."
"Who?"

Castiel unleashed the full, awful force of his gaze upon her. His features twisted with anguish. To delay by seconds was to risk the lives of his only friends.

"Stay in this room!" he commanded in a voice that made her cower. "Pour a ring of salt and stand inside it until I return. Do not move outside of the circle."

Before she could begin to question him, he was gone.

He plunged his blade into the neck of Zachariah's first bodyguard, barely squinting against the light. The second lunged at him. It only took seconds to disarm and kill him. Seconds were all he had - Sam and Dean writhed on the floor like dying men.

"How are you...?"
"Alive?" Castiel finished. "It's a good question. How did these two end up on that aeroplane?" He gestured to Sam and Dean. "Another good question, as the angels didn't do it. I think we both know the answer, don't we."
Zachariah shook his head. "No, it's not possible."
"Scares you," Castiel stated. "Well, it should. Now put these boys back together and go. I won't ask twice."

In a flash, Zachariah was gone. The Winchesters groaned and pulled themselves to their feet. Castiel approached them.

"You two need to be more careful."

Googling 'mythological creatures healing and poison' didn't help as much as I had hoped. I sat in my circle of salt on the floor, wondering what the hell I was doing there, until it occured to me to Google that as well.
"Huh." Not exactly comforting, but at least I was safe from spirits and demons – supposedly.

I Googled Zachariah. 'Derived from the Hebrew זְכַרְיָה, meaning God Has Remembered.' There were all sorts of possibilities. Prophet, father of John the Baptist, king of Israel, one of the 'rulers of the house of God'. I kept trawling through lists of magical beings for a while. No use. I hadn't a clue where to start. It could have been anything I had or hadn't heard of.

I wondered how much longer it would be before I had a full-blown mental breakdown, right there on my own, surrounded by stuff people put on their fries. I couldn't feel those things around me any more, no eyes glittering in the dark outside my window. I half wished they were – it was almost worse, the waiting, not knowing when or if they would come, or what they wanted. It felt like more than just being watched. It was as if something was prodding at me, trying to get a reaction. Trying to communicate? Maybe they didn't intend to hurt me. But if Castiel was wary I wasn't taking any chances.

"Jesus Christ!" I jumped a foot and a half, almost sending my laptop flying.

"Everybody always seems so surprised," Castiel complained as the mattress squeaked under his weight. "You know that I teleport."
"I don't think people are waiting around every second for you to jump out of thin air."
"Have you found anything?"
"No. Have you?"

"I was a little preoccupied rescuing the Winchesters," he held up four heavy tomes bound with leather, "but I stole these from Bobby Singer's collection on the way back. He was not at home, but he could be back at any point. We had best begin immediately."

It just got more bewildering with every sentence. Like talking to a spaceman.

"Am I supposed to know who these guys are?" I asked.
"No. You will not be aware of the events surrounding them."
"What events?"
"We need to focus upon your situation at present."
"Why?" I flung back. "What's it to you? You're obviously in the middle of something else."

He regarded me quietly, and I noticed just how blue his eyes are when he forgot to blink.

"I am at the end much more than in the middle," he said sadly, "but there is barely a creature on earth that can resist an angel's power."
"So you think I'm a threat?"
"Perhaps."
"You said you thought I had control."
"Would you rather I left it uncertain?"

I bit my tongue and shook my head. His eyebrows slanted gradually outwards, until he looked almost compassionate.

"I sincerely hope you are benevolent. I want to help. In truth, I should be handing you over to my friends. They would be able to identify you quickly."
"Do they kill things like me?"

He glanced away, nodding, and passed me one of the ancient volumes without another word. The leather creaked between both our grips, and I felt that same warm pulsating energy magnetising our hands. The corners of his mouth twitched, his body braced against some impulse. Then he let the book go.

"Castiel," I sighed as I slammed the second tome shut with a clap like thunder. "If I'm in this book, there's not enough lore about me." I rubbed my eyes, trying to keep them open. This was worse than college work. He looked disappointed too. "I'm getting in the way of your other stuff, aren't I."
"I don't know. I don't know what I should be doing."
"Well, I'm not keeping you."

He exhaled, and shifted his position on the bed. "I don't think you comprehend the gravity of your circumstances."
"No. Because you haven't told me anything."
He couldn't argue with that. "Can you imagine," he replied finally, "how rare and valuable a weapon you could be?"
"Against angels?"
"Perhaps more. I wonder how many other creatures' effects would be useless against you. But yes, mostly against the angels."
"I thought you said I'd be useless against an archangel."
"I can't be certain. We are accustomed to being all-powerful."
"Oh."
"In the foreseeable future, it might be considered a crucial advantage to have such resistance."
"For me?
"Yes, if you turn out to be a creature of evil. Also for those who would use you against the angels."
"So I have to watch out for creatures who want to kidnap me?"
"Not only that. If the angels discover you they may try to annihilate you, or use you against each other."

"In the foreseeable future," I echoed after a pause. "Why? What's going on?"

He glanced at me, and then at the floor, at me again, then anywhere but me. Always with that creased brow and eyes like sharp edges.
"When I know what you really are," he muttered, "when I am certain that I can trust you."
"Sounds fair."
He sat there, submerged in his own worries. I closed my laptop and crawled out of the salt circle to loosen my muscles. "What's our next move?"
"I return these and borrow the next load. I will be gone for a minute." He rose but didn't stretch. "You should retire for a while, Faye. You look exhausted."

Considerate. I'd expected him to forget that humans needed sleep. Apparently angels didn't. I nodded, and he disappeared in that horribly disorienting way. It always took my brain a second to wrap around his absence, when all logic said that he should still be there, filling that gap in the room.

I was brushing my teeth in the communal bathroom when I heard him, like the flurry of wings or a long coat in the wind. There was a pause. I could sense him freaking out as he realised I wasn't in my bedroom.
"Faye?" his voice echoed around the flat. His footsteps reverberated down the corridor. "Faye!"
"Sshhh! I'm here!" I hissed.

Amy poked her head round her door to investigate the riot. She squealed in surprise at the sight of a strange man in her apartment. Jason opened his door to see what she was making a fuss about. Fantastic.

"Faye!" Amy raised her perfect eyebrows at me. "Who's the guy?"
"Um -"
"Faye!" Castiel interrupted in a severe growl. "I told you to get into bed."

My jaw dropped as Amy ogled at him in surprised amusement. Jason marched over from the other end of the hall and backed me into the bathroom.
"Listen, Faye," he murmured in his big brother voice, "I don't know what's going on but if you want me to get rid of him -"
"I'm fine."
"You've been crying."
"Yes, but it's not because of him."
"Faye, no offence but he's really old. You have every right to be a total mess right now -"
"Jason, I don't need -"
"I'm just saying you need to think about the things you're doing. It might make you feel good right now but you're hurting yourself."
"I'm not - it's - it's complicated. I'm not sleeping with him or anything."

"Faye," Castiel joined us in the bathroom and stood at an uncomfortably close distance to Jason. "Whoever your friend is, he can wait."

This would have been so funny if it wasn't happening to me.

Jason squared up to him. "Faye, you seriously don't want to be getting involved with a guy like this."
"I met him in church!" I insisted, making it so much worse. Amy emitted a disbelieving noise.

Fuming, I shoved Castiel backwards into my room. "It's fine," I told Jason before slamming the door in his face.
"What did the young woman find so entertaining?" the angel frowned.
"You don't – never mind." I held my breath as I glared at him. It wasn't very effective. He was taller than me. "I'll tell you later."

I chucked my toothbrush onto the desk, and it bounced off the tall stack of leather-bound books that Castiel had brought back. I was suddenly reminded that my flatmates were the least of our problems. Castiel was right, I was exhausted. Mythological creatures ran circles around the inside of my skull. Jason's words had begun to chase around after them. You have every right to be a total mess right now. It was becoming a choice of either sleep or a meltdown.

Conscious of the fact that I was in pyjamas, I switched the main light off and the desk lamp on, and clambered into bed. I actually hadn't had more than five hours' sleep that week. My eyelids snapped shut like iron hatches. A second later, however, the bed lurched and I sat bolt upright in terror. Castiel was dragging me into the middle of the room, barely flexing his arm, like the weight was nothing. I wondered briefly what Amy and Jason would make of the noise.
"What?" I barked.
He had already grabbed the salt, drawing an oval around the entire bed. He glanced at me once and retreated to the desk.

I flopped back onto my pillow, lacking the energy to be indignant. Since my birthday the nights had been nothing but horrific. No, scratch that – since two months ago, the nights had been beyond horrific. Tonight, even though everything was ten times more screwed over than before, I knew I could sleep just fine. Castiel might have been gruff but I already trusted him more than any living person on the planet. I had seen the spark of human life behind his celestial show. And hey. An angel was literally watching over me.