It was sometime near dawn and Hannah had gone back to sleep some time ago. Castiel sat by her side, diligently watching over her as she slept. She'd had a rough night, all the fear and anguish she had endured came out in droves. All Castiel could do was be there for her, comfort her, and reassure her.
He almost didn't hear the door creak open, but he was immediately at attention when he saw Dean slip quietly into the room.
"Dean," Castiel whispered, careful not to wake Hannah up as he watched Dean crept slowly over to him. "I thought you were not permitted over here."
"We aren't," Dean confirmed. "Hey, I know this is sudden, but you gotta get her out of here. Sam's waiting outside with the impala."
"What?" Castiel frowned. "The doctor said she wasn't well enough to be moved."
"I know," Dean said, looking apologetically. "Look… the doctors are talking to the police. They think you did this to her and they are talking about arresting you and taking her to some women's shelter."
"They can't!" Castiel exclaimed defensively, angry at the audacity. "She's frightened as it is, I don't think we should be separated. She doesn't trust humans."
"Yeah I know which is why we have to go," Dean said, urgency in his voice. "Look, Sam and I raided the pharmacy; we managed to swipe some medical supplies and equipment, I hope it will be enough to treat her back at the bunker. At least until you can heal her, right?"
Castiel nodded hesitantly. He wasn't sure he could heal her or if she could heal herself, but the idea of being separated from her now, after just getting her back was unpalatable. Quickly, he stood up and leaned over her, carefully pulling the various needles from her arms. She jerked a little in her sleep.
Dean moved to watch the door while Castiel slid his arms under Hannah and, as gently as he could, lifted her into his arms, carefully trying to avoid her casted arm and leg. She gasped, her eyes fluttering open.
"Shh," he hushed softly as she started to struggle, disoriented. "It's okay, Hannah, you're safe."
Hannah wasn't so sure, and in her dazed confusion, Castiel wasn't sure she knew what was happening or who he even was. But to her credit, she didn't struggle, only braced her head against his shoulder as he carried her to the door.
"This way," Dean led them through the hallway. Hannah felt light and fragile in Castiel's arms as he cradled her against his own body. Her head lulled back and forth as he trailed after Dean.
Somehow, they made it outside where Sam was waiting in the impala. Castiel crawled into the backseat with Hannah while Dean jumped into the passenger seat, and not a moment too soon because just as they slammed the car doors, the doctor, the one Castiel recognized as the physician who had been treating Hannah, burst out of the doors after them and started shouting.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "Come back here! I'm calling the cops!"
Sam sped away, tearing out of the hospital at top speeds.
0000
It was a precarious journey back to the bunker, but somehow, they made it. Castiel carried Hannah to the room he stayed in when he visited the bunker. He laid her down in the bed, covering her in blankets. Pulling a chair up to her bedside, he resumed his vigil over her.
"Where am I?" she mumbled, slurring her words together as she blinked heavily. "Don't… please…" Castiel's heart sunk as he listened to Hannah begging incoherently. She remained, somewhere between consciousness and delirium, her head listing back and forth, her body too weak to squirm. When he reached to touch her hand, to try to bring her out of it, back to reality, he was alarmed by the heat he felt there.
"Dean!" he exclaimed in alarm. "Sam!" panic surged through his mind as he worried that they shouldn't have taken her out of the hospital, that they may have done more harm than good. Castiel had never felt so helpless in all of his life. He should be able to heal her, and if he hadn't taken her grace from her, she wouldn't be in this condition. She wouldn't have let that man hurt her as he did, and she wouldn't be laying here, slipping away before his eyes.
Sam and Dean hurried into the room at the urgency of Castiel's call. "She's feverish," he explained. "I can't seem to wake her."
Sam leaned over the ailing angel woman, putting a hand over her forehead, frowning as he turned to Dean.
"I don't think she has an infection," he said thoughtfully. "We checked her wounds and cleaned them. This is something else."
At that moment, as Sam rested his hand on Hannah's forehead, her eyes suddenly shot open. Her gaze fell on his figure looming over her, and she shot upright in bed, letting out a scream, as she scrambled, in vain, to pull away from him.
"Hannah!" Castiel grabbed her before she could manage her way out of the bed, but she fought him, shoving and swinging her one hand at him, trying desperately to get away.
Sam shrunk away, frowning as he and Dean watched the scene with concern and sympathy. Castiel pulled the flailing angel into his arms and held her against him, holding tightly until her flailing began to die down. The heat of her body burned against him, her energy drained, she suddenly fell limp in his arms. Gently, he lay her back down and watched as her eyes fluttered closed and she gave into unconsciousness.
"Castiel, this is more serious than just a physical illness," Sam began after a few tense moments passed. Castiel glanced across the bed at the Winchesters. "Neither of us are really qualified to handle stuff like this."
"What can we do?" Castiel frowned at the sound of his own voice, low and husky and raw with emotion. He met Dean's eyes, desperately seeking out some kind of assurance from his closest friend. "Dean…"
Dean sighed and came around the bed to pull up a chair beside Castiel. "Cas, we'll help you through this but her we'll do everything we can, but this is far above our pay grade. I-"
"Hold on, Dean," Sam spoke up. "I think I know someone who may help. I'm going to give Charlie a call." With that, he got up and hurried out of the room leaving Castiel and Dean alone with a sleeping Hannah.
The two men sat in silence for a few moments as Castiel watched Hannah with a downtrodden look in his eyes.
"Cas, I've never seen you like this," Dean commented after a time. "You know, with the emotions and all."
Castiel scoffed quietly. Dean was right, he'd never been this distraught, and he'd been through a lot. Losing friends, always walking the line between heaven and humanity and continuously being hurt for his allegiance. But these feeling were different.
"I was angry with her," he said softly, glancing at Dean, meeting his eyes. "For what she did. Giving me her grace. I didn't want it; I swore I'd never hurt another angel that way. But I did. All this time, she'd been bringing up the issue of my failing grace. She was incessant about it, constantly begging me, pleading with me to do something, to face it at all. She even tried to go to Metatron. And I brushed her off every single time. So finally, when I was on my last breath, she cut her own throat and forced me to take it. How could she do that, Dean?"
"Because she wanted to," Dean responded. "Because people do crazy reckless things when they are in love."
"No," Castiel was quick to dismiss that idea. He shook his head. "She can't… why would she? I'm an enemy to heaven. After everything I've done, caused the fall, a fall which she herself was a victim of. How could she even begin to?"
"Cas, no one gives that kind of sacrifice without some kind of motivation," Dean explained. "Look at you, me, and Sam. What we've done for each other. I'd let the whole world burn- got close to doing just that- to save Sam. That's what you do for family. So think about that. Hannah was willing to deal with Metatron for you. And when, finally, she couldn't get you to care about your own life, she sacrificed herself, her grace, just so you'd keep living. That should spell it out right there."
"And look what it's gotten her," Castiel said bitterly. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the bed, as he watched Hannah sleep. She didn't sleep soundly. Every so often, she'd jerk about in her sleep, whimpering, mumbling, tossing and turning. The complexion of her skin took on a very pale pallor, and the skin around her eyes was dark, making them appear sunken in. The fever which seemed to be burning through her was worrisome.
Castiel started when he felt Dean's hand on his shoulder. He turned his attention to the elder Winchester as he got to his feet. "She'll make it through," Dean said firmly. "Sam and I will figure out how to get help here. A hunter doctor, a shrink, whatever. Charlie might be able to help. Somehow, we'll get her the help she needs."
"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said honestly. He watched Dean leave the room, then turned back to Hannah. He reached out and took her hand in both of his, willing her to get better.
"I've been so blind," he said. "Blind to everything. I'm sorry I ignored your feelings. Just please don't leave me now, Hannah. I need you."
