When Castiel entered the bunker after spending time in town, he carried some bags and some drinks, as well as two vases full of floral arrangements. He juggled the massive load of items in his arms and barely managed to make his way to the main table. He found Dean, Sam, and the hunter doctor Charlie had brought with her all sitting at the table. The doctor was busy injecting Dean with a syringe.
Dean raised a brow when he saw everything Castiel had been carrying. "Did you by the whole town?" he asked before wincing at the sting of the needle.
"Charlie sent me a list of things to acquire, and I consulted the google for what else to provide Hannah with while she is sick," Castiel explained, handing Sam the fake credit card he'd used. "Why are you being injected?"
"The sickness Hannah has is very contagious," the doctor explained before Dean could answer. "Normally you would all be isolated from her. But since you have an angel here, you should be okay. But I still want to give all of you immunity boosters every few hours as a precaution."
Castiel nodded. Healing a human was far easier for him to do than to heal a fellow angel, which is why Hannah was allowed to be in this condition for so long. He had hoped that the little grace he had left her with would have started to replenish itself by now, but her injuries and trauma had delayed it. He only had to make sure she survived long enough to become an angel again.
"Hey Cas, what is all that stuff?" Sam asked as the doctor injected him. Castiel glanced at all the items laid out before him.
"They are essential items for Hannah's recovery," Castiel responded matter of factly. He started loading all the items onto a cart and went about preparing everything properly. It took him a moment to figure out how to cook chicken noodle soup and make the tea but he managed, and with two steaming hot bowls and two mugs perched on top of the cart and all the other items appropriately arranged around them, he headed for the room.
When he got inside, he found the light dimmed in the room, and two forms huddled together in the bed. Hannah lay with her head resting on Charlie's shoulder as they both focused on the television at the foot of their bed. Hannah's casted arm rested across Charlie's lap, and as Castiel moved closer, he saw Charlie had a marker and had doodled designs all over the cast.
"I like this Arwen," Hannah murmured weakly, coughing as she spoke. "She's strong and brave and graceful. And wise. Like an angel. Like I used to be."
"Like you are" Charlie corrected before she noticed Castiel's presence. "Oh hey, Cas. You're interrupting the fight with the cave troll."
"I apologize," Castiel said as Charlie paused the movie. "The Doctor wishes to see you for you immunity shot, and I brought soup for both of you."
Charlie glanced at Hannah, "be right back," she promised before getting out of the bed and hurrying away, leaving Castiel alone with Hannah. Castiel approached her bed with his cart, and he felt dismayed when he turned on the light and got a better look at her.
The angel didn't have to ask how Hannah was feeling. Even though she managed a small smile and she seemed to be in better spirits than she was when he left, her physical condition left something to be desired. She looked fragile, shriveled; her skin clung to her bones. She was so pale, and her eyes were dark and sunken in. She looked as though she was slowly crumbling away. She struggled in vain to try to sit up but didn't have the strength.
"I brought you soup," Castiel whispered, his voice husky as her condition left him nearly speechless. "And some things. A cherry Slurpee, some honey tea, a pair of pajamas, a bathrobe, some flowers, a thermometer, a cloth for your head, some cough syrup, oh and this," as he named all the items he'd purchased, he pulled each one off the cart and showed her, but when he got to the thing he'd spent the most time and effort on, he pulled it out of the bag. It was a stuffed tiger. Hannah glanced at it curiously.
"Charlie suggested it would bring you comfort to have a stuffed animal," Castiel explained. "And according to the google, animals often represent people. I think the tiger reminds me of you because according to the research I did, tigers represent passion, strength, endurance, and courage."
"I like it," Hannah's voice was barely a whisper, and Castiel had to help position her in bed so that she was sitting up, a pile of pillows helping to prop her up. He put the tiger into her arms then sat on the side of the bed to lean over her. He brushed a hand against her cheek and her forehead, frowning at discovering the fever was still present.
"Have you enjoyed Charlie's company?" Castiel asked as he set the bowl of soup into his own lap, stirring it with a spoon. "Sam and Dean thought she might be a comfort to you."
"She is," Hannah replied, her eyes flickering to the soup. "She is kind."
"Until your grace returns, you must have nourishment," Castiel explained the purpose of the soup. "Surely you have felt the discomfort by now?"
"Yes," she replied, a look of embarrassment grazing her face. "I don't understand these sensations."
"It's hunger," Castiel explained. He realized that with her broken arm, and being so ill, she wasn't going to be able to feed herself, so he scooted closer. "I'll help you."
Hannah winced when she glanced at the bowl and realized she couldn't accomplish this seemingly simple task on her own. The humiliated look on her face when her eyes met Castiel's made him wince in sympathy for her.
"Don't be embarrassed," he tried to reassure her as he brought the spoon to her lips. She hesitated before opening her mouth and letting him feed her. He waited for her to swallow before bringing the spoon to her lips once more.
It was a slow process, and Castiel could tell that Hannah was being forced to endure the feelings of humiliation with each spoonful, but eventually, she finished the bowl and even drank the tea. When they were done, Castiel placed the bowl and the mug back on the cart and watched as Hannah held her stuffed tiger tightly.
When Charlie returned, Castiel allowed them to finish their movie, sitting patiently by the bed and attending to both women's every need. Hannah's condition continued to worsen despite the doctor's efforts. The next day, Charlie spent the entire day with Hannah but as she stepped out to go talk with the Winchesters, and Castiel came in to check on Hannah, his heart suddenly jumped into his throat when he saw the sight before him.
Hannah was coughing and coughing, blood staining her lips, she was too weak to sit up. Castiel hurried to her side and sat her up, but the heat radiating from her skin was worse than before. Her breathing was labored, her eyes rolled back as she moaned softly in between coughs.
"Help…" she begged incoherently. "I can't swim, I'm drowning!" Castiel gasped as she weakly moved her arms as if she were trying to struggle. He realized she was delirious and hallucinating.
"Dean!" Castiel called loudly as Hannah suddenly started seizing violently. Panic gripped him as he held her convulsing body in his arms, willing it to stop.
Everyone burst into the room then, and the doctor hurried over. "Let it pass," he warned rushing to the aid of the convulsing angel, moving her from Castiel's arms and positioning her on her side.
"We need to get this fever down, quickly," the doctor said as he and Castiel corralled Hannah's seizing body, making sure to give her enough space while making sure she didn't fall off the bed. He glanced over at the Winchesters, "Sam, Dean, go start an ice bath. Charlie, we'll need you to help her in."
Charlie nodded, a grief-stricken look on her face as she watched the situation while Sam and Dean hurried to go do as they were told.
When the seizing finally stopped, Hannah fell limp on her back, moaning, her head moving back and forth as her eyes fluttered as she tried, desperately, to cling to consciousness. Castiel was sure he was watching her die before his eyes, and he'd never felt so helpless and so desperate in all of his life.
"Come on let's get her up," the doctor's voice cut through Castiel's despair, and he gathered Hannah into his arms. She felt so frail he was afraid that if he held her too tight, she'd break. Chills wracked her body, and she moaned, muttering indiscernible incoherent murmurs and whimpers.
Castiel's already frayed mental state was tested to its limit after what happened next. It took him, Charlie, and the doctor to get Hannah into the bathtub full of ice water because as soon as they started to remove her gown, she began to shriek and frail around, finding newfound strength wrapped in sheer adrenaline, she fought, screaming and begging.
"Keep going!" the doctor barked at Castiel as her pitiful pleas got to be too much and Castiel tried to back away.
"Please don't!" she screamed as she squirmed. "Don't touch me! Please don't touch me!" Castiel could tell she was relieving another flashback, seeing what her torturer had done, and in her feverish delirium, she'd completely lost the ability to distinguish between reality and what was inside her head.
When it got to be too much, Charlie opted to do help Hannah herself and quickly shooed everyone else out of the bathroom, except for the doctor. Castiel found himself standing outside in the hallway staring at the closed door listening to the screaming and the splashing of water inside. He was so fixated on his emotions as he listened to Hannah's suffering, feeling helpless, and angry at the injustice of it all, he started forcefully when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Whirling, he almost clobbered Dean who was suddenly right in front of him, gripping him on the shoulder.
"Hey, hey!" Dean exclaimed as Sam was suddenly there on his other side and he found himself in between the Winchesters being supported by both of them.
"I…" Castiel stammered. The raw emotions he was feeling were almost physical, and he braced a hand to his torso as if somehow, he could hold them all in. "I feel ill…" He didn't know how else to convey such intensity, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. How could he be so focused on his own feelings and sensations when he could hear Hannah screaming and flailing about on the other side of the door?
"Hey, we know," Sam said. "We're here for you."
"You have to stop blaming yourself for this, Cas" Dean implored. "I know it's hard… but sometimes, no matter how hard you try, no matter how hard you fight… it just doesn't always work out in your favor sometimes."
"You're saying she's going to die," Castiel frowned at the sound of his own raspy voice. "Is that what you are implying Dean? That there's no hope and I should just… give up?"
"No man, we're just saying that there's nothing you can do differently," Dean replied. "Maybe… it's time to accept that she may not pull through this and just be there for her you know… when it happens."
Castiel was sure he felt his heart drop into his stomach. He felt nauseous and would have toppled backward if Sam and Dean hadn't been there to catch him and lean him against the wall. He turned his gaze up towards the ceiling, up towards the sky, his thoughts focusing on the endless spaces high above them, as he squeezed his eyes shut and silently begged the powers above, those in charge of life and death- the reapers, Death himself- to prevent this somehow.
"Take me instead, Death..." he begged, not realizing he'd said that out loud.
"Cas…" Castiel opened his eyes, and his deep blue eyes met Dean's green ones and found the elder Winchester wearing a sympathetic expression. "Don't be making deals with Death like that, you know he'd collect."
"If only he would," he responded sincerely. "Dean… I… I've never felt these… sensations before and I don't think I can handle them. I'd rather take her place. I don't think I can live without… her… what's happening to me, Dean?"
"You know most of us mortals would love to take away those feelings if we could," Dean replied. "The feelings of loss, especially when you love, and believe it or not Cas, you love her. How do you think I felt when Jo died? Or when I left Lisa? Or how about when Sam lost Jess? Or our parents? We've lost so many, over and over, and each time it hurts like hell. But there's nothing you can do."
Castiel tried to digest what Dean was saying. "Hannah is an angel," he explained. "This isn't supposed to happen to her. She's supposed to be immortal… I'm not supposed to feel this way. And… I'm the reason-"
"Okay let's not go there again," Dean's voice held a note of discontent. "Get over the guilt, Cas. If you don't, you'll never be able to get past this."
Castiel looked at Dean dead in the eyes. "If she dies… I don't think I want to get past it." He took in a deep breath, just as the doctor emerged from the bathroom. Castiel snapped to attention, eyes widening at the grim look on the doctor's face.
"We got the fever down," he began with a long sigh. "But I don't think it's going to do much good at this point. I'm sorry. I suggest we get her back into bed and make her comfortable."
Castiel felt utterly numb as they brought Hannah's unconscious form out, dressed in the new silk dark purple nightgown that Charlie had instructed Castiel to get for her the other day. Sam moved forward to help carry the angel back to her bed, and Castiel had a vague memory of following him and of sitting down at her bedside once more. If Hannah had been conscious, she would have fought Sam's assistance, but she made no movement at all.
Charlie came over and put a hand on Castiel's shoulder, and as the angel looked up at her, he saw tears streaming down her eyes. "I'm sorry, Cas," she said, breath catching in her throat. As Castiel watched, Charlie burst into tears and hurried into Dean's arms for comfort.
"Hey Cas," Sam said. "We'll… leave you alone." Castiel watched as the three of them staggered out. The angel turned back to Hannah's limp form lying across the bed, just as the doctor was injecting her with something.
"What is that?" Castiel asked with dismay.
"A last round of antibiotics," the doctor explained. "If, somehow, they manage to kill off the bacteria… but I think it's too little too late at this point."
"But you're not sure," Castiel said hopefully. "You are still hopeful." The doctor sighed.
"She won't last the night," he said, a tone of certainty in his voice. "I'm sorry." With that, the doctor turned and left the room.
Castiel leaned forward, leaning his elbows on the bed and peering across Hannah's form. She was barely breathing, the rise and fall of her chest was barely noticeable. She was so pale, and she had a serene look across her face as she slept.
Castiel swallowed hard before his raw emotions propelled him to need to be as close to her as possible. He climbed into the bed with her and pulled her into his arms, laying her head on his chest, holding her tight.
The angels stayed like that for a long time, Castiel holding Hannah tightly to him, feeling the warmth of her body against his, her breathing, getting shallower and shallower, the slow, sluggish beating of her heart.
"Hannah," he said resting his face against the top of her dark-haired head. "You can't… you have to... " Castiel cleared his throat, finding the curious sensation of a lump forming in his throat. He was finding it hard to speak. "I… love… you…" he doubted she could even hear him, but he needed to say it. I'd never in his life uttered those words, and he didn't know many angels who had either, but it felt right to say them now. There was no other way to explain the devastation he was feeling at holding Hannah in his arms, waiting for her heart to finally stop beating.
It was a long night as Castiel listened to each breath, felt each heartbeat against him, scared that it would be the last one. But each time there was a pause when he didn't hear that next breath, when he was sure she was gone forever, somehow, she'd manage one more. And as he held her, Castiel realized that if he lost her that night, he'd lose a piece of himself. And in a way, he had a part of her inside of him- her grace. Perhaps Dean or Sam would say that should be comforting, but it wasn't. He was carrying Hannah's true life's blood, her soul, but he was going to lose her. It made him feel like an empty shell inside.
Note: rough cliffy here! Keep reading!
