This is the 'i love this episode but i'm not thrilled with how i wrote it' chapter. I couldn't figure out where to split it in two, so it's just one big chapter 5,794 words long! So be happy about that. Gotta update this quick before I go to the store:) 'cause then it's store, get brother from birthday party, shower, and go to bed early so I wake up early enough so I can go on my trip! Wish me luck!;)

FYI:

I might or might not be able to write the whole of next week (11/23-11/30), let alone update.

Sorry! It's family:) So, no update until December. Be happy I'm posting this real quick. Shout out to my one and only reviewer giddyfan who PM'd me last night and told me to get writing! Hehe I love her, don't you? You can thank her for getting me motivated again.

This is the episode On the Head of a Pin from Supernatural. I own pretty much nothing except Hazel. Next chapter is the Christmas chapter, which I will start writing AFTER Thanksgiving because YOU HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL AFTER THANKSGIVING to begin Christmas things. So, shame on the people who have their lights up already (jk sorta), listen to Christmas music, and watch Christmas movies before Thanksgiving. i.e., my mom who has been torturing me with Hallmark Christmas movies! *fumes* If you don't celebrate Thanksgiving, then never mind! okay mini-rant over

Please review!

Chapter Ten: Transformations

Pamela is dead.

Some demon bastard stabbed her, and I was powerless to help. Sam and Dean were in the 'spirit world' which I think is code for a different dimension that coexists with ours. It's been known to happen.

"I told you I didn't want anything to do with this. Do me a favour? Tell that bastard Bobby Singer to go to Hell for ever introducing me to you two in the first place."

"I wish there was something I could do, Pamela."

"Don't cry, Hazel. Everybody's got to go sometime, yeah?"

"Yeah."

There wasn't anything we could do. Anything I could do, without risking her becoming immortal like Jack or dead. So we gave her a Hunter's funeral (which I learned is like the same thing you do when trying to get rid of a ghost), and we looked for another case.

Sam's driving, I'm in the back seat trying to repair my damn vortex manipulator, and Dean's front seat.

"Ruby will meet us outside Cheyenne," Sam announces. "She's been tracking some leads. Look, I know she's not exactly on your Christmas list, but if she can help us get to Lilith-"

"Man, work with Ruby, don't. I don't really give a rat's ass," Dean waves off irritatedly.

"What's your problem?"

"Pamela didn't want anything to do with this, and we dragged her back into it, Sam."

"She knew what was at stake."

"Oh, yeah, saving the world. And we're doing such a damn good job of it."

"Dean-"

"I'm tired of burying friends, Sam. Ow!" he exclaims when I flick the back of his head. "Hazel!"

"Quit that. You two are doin' a good job, Winchester, trust me. I'm a time traveller. I know these things. Hell, Amy an' Rory are from 2012."

"Great, so we don't blow up the planet. Good to know," Sam says optimistically.

"Like I said, I'm just-I'm just gettin' tired," Dean admits, then turns around to look at me. "Haze, I want you to promise me something."

"What?" I ask.

"Promise me... promise me that we'll never have to bury you."

"You will never have to bury me, Dean. I promise. Now, let's find a motel an' turn in for the night."

"Home, crappy home," Dean throws his bag and mine (he's such a gentleman when he wants to be) on the floor. Sam switches the light on.

"Good news, I think my manipulator is almost-"

"Winchester and Winchester. And mutt."

"Fixed..." I trail off when I see Uriel.

"Oh, come on!" Dean says irately.

"You are needed," Uriel tells us.

"Needed? We just got back from needed!"

"Now, you mind your tone with me."

"How 'bout you mind your damn tone with us," I counter, a hand around Dean's arm to prevent him from killing the douchey angel. With the mood he's in, he might just die trying.

"We just got back from Pamela's funeral," Sam explains.

"Pamela, you know, psychic Pamela? You remember her," Dean accuses. "Cas, you remember her. You burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times! Yeah, then she died saving one of your precious seals. So, maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for five freakin' minutes!" he yells.

Castiel looks at me with almost hope in his eyes.

"Oi, don't lookit me for help, Cassie," I raise my hands innocently. "M'with them on this one. You two are just runnin' runnin' runnin' 'em without givin' 'em a break. They're human! They need breaks! You can't just whisk 'em away when you have a 'need', they need sleep, unlike you two!"

"We raised you out of hell for our purposes," Uriel ignores me and looks straight at Dean.

"Yeah, and what were those again?" Dean asks, pissed and just plain done. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"Start with gratitude."

"Dean, we know this is difficult to understand," Cassie interrupts.

"And we," Uriel turns his head to look at Cas and then back at us, "don't care. Now, seven angels have been murdered- all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight."

"Demons?" Dean asks. "How they doing it?"

"We don't know."

"I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it?" Sam questions. "I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?"

"We can handle the demons, thank you very much."

"Once we find whoever it is," Cas mentions.

"So, you need our help... hunting a demon?" Dean asks.

"Not quite. We have Alastair."

I don't like where this is going.

"Great. He should be able to name your triggerman."

"But he won't talk," Cassie admits. "Alastair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse."

"Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture. I mean, you guys are out of your league."

"That's why we've come to his student," Uriel informs us.

"No," I say instantly, connecting the dots. "Not happenin'."

"Stay out of this, mutt, this doesn't concern you." Then he turns back to Dean. "You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got."

"Did y'not hear what I just said?" I fire back. "Not. Happenin'."

"Dean. You're our best hope," Cas, well, not begs, but...

"No," Dean denies instantly. "No way. You can't ask me to do this, Cas, not this. Hazel's right."

Uriel chuckles and walks towards us.

"Who said anything about asking?"

And then they're gone, Dean included.

I swear loudly and violently in a string of mixed English and Gallifreyan.

"Damn it!" Sam yells. "Is your vortex manipulator thingy fixed? Is there any way you can go after them?"

"Let me call my mum," I fumble around for my mobile phone. "She uses that thing so often, an' she's the one that gave me mine." Once I find it, I hold the home button down to activate Siri, then look for my repair kit. "Phone Mum. It's an emergency," I order.

"Now calling River Song."

"Voice dialing?" Sam asks.

"Virtual personal assistant. Starts out as an app to download in 2010, purchased by Apple in 2011."

"Hello, sweetie. What's wrong?" Mum answers.

"I need to get my vortex manipulator fixed. Now. S'an emergency."

"A Winchester emergency, perhaps?"

"Mother! M'serious! Can you break out?"

"Don't worry, sweetie, I'll be there in five seconds."

"Track my mobile signal, an' please get the times right."

"Sweetie, are you doubtin' me?" she appears in a flash of blue light, and I hang up my mobile.

"Thank god, Mum," I dart over and hug her, then hand her my manipulator.

"You've got your repair kit handy?"

"Yeah, it's in my purse," I speed off to go grab it.

"Good to see you again, Sam," Mum smiles at him.

"And you, ma'am," he responds politely.

"Oh, none of that 'ma'am' stuff. My name is River. Feel free to use it."

"Here," I hand the kit to her, and she pries the back of the manipulator off and sets it all down on the little table.

"Have we done first Christmas with them yet, sweetie?" she asks as she works.

"No. Last thing for me was when you regenerated from Mels to River," I tell her.

"Last thing you did with your boys?"

"Pamela died the other day."

"Ooh, early weeks, then."

"What's the last thing you did with me, Mum?"

"You haven't done it yet," she waves off and fiddles around with some wires. "What the hell have you done to this thing? It looks like Strax tried to take it apart an' put it back together with a sledgehammer."

"I sonicked it to take passengers."

"Well, what'd you do that for?"

"Didn't have much of a choice, Mum, there were demons everywhere tryin' t'kill us!"

"Okay, okay. Calm down, sweetie, I'm almost done. Why d'ya need it fixed s'bad anyway?"

"Castiel isn't who I thought he was," I make out through clenched teeth.

"Oh, you're at this part. Uriel, Castiel, Alastair? Angles bein' murdered?"

"I tell you all about it?" I guess.

"When the time comes, yes. Dean's at an abandoned warehouse. But I can't tell you where."

"Why?"

"Because, Lyra. I'm only doing what future you tells me. Sam has to wait here for Ruby. An' I input the coordinates into the vortex manipulator that will take you to him. But you can't share them."

"But why?" Sam interrupts. "Wouldn't it be easier for her to take me with her?"

"Yes, but you learn l somethin' here, Sam," Mum informs him. "Somethin' Ruby teaches you, much as I hate to say it. I hate that bitch. But it's necessary for future events."

"Fine," I accept. "But don't tell us anythin' more."

"I won't," Mum promises. "I think I've almost- there!" The vortex manipulator beeps excitedly. "All fixed. Here, Lyra," she hands it to me, and I fasten it back around my wrist. "Be safe."

"I promise." And with that last bit, she uses her own vortex manipulator and vanishes from our sight. "Sam-"

"Go," he orders. "I'll call Ruby. And listen. If he has to do what I think he has to do, he's not gonna want you anywhere near that."

"Oh, he's not gonna turn me away tha' easy, Sammy," I assure him with a smile on my face. "I'll keep an eye on 'im. An' I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," he cracks a small smile, and I disappear in a flash of blue light.

"Y'know, I'm starting to think Junkless has a better sense of humour than you do," I hear Dean say from inside. I landed right in front of the warehouse Mum had been talking about, and I force the doors open.

"Castiel!" I call murderously, moving through the warehouse until I find him and Dean.

"Cara-"

"Don't you 'Cara' me, mister!" I shout at him, rising to my full five-foot-two. "I said no. Dean said no!"

"I have orders-"

"'Orders'!" I repeat incredulously. And then I reach up and slap him. "You have changed, Castiel, and not for the better. What happened to the little angel with the black wings that wondered why I didn't have any?"

"I grew up!" he finally raises his voice to me. "And I suggest you do the same!"

"Don't you take that tone with me," I threaten darkly.

"What's going on, Cas?" Dean interrupts. "Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?"

"My superiors have began to question my sympathies," my old friend completely ignores me and looks solely at Dean, calming himself down.

"Your sympathies?"

"I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You. They feel I've begun to express emotions, the doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgement. Plus, my association with Cara makes things even more difficult, seeing as she is on Earth by herself."

"Don't need to be babysat, Castiel. I'm an adult. Nearly a century old," I argue indignantly.

"Well, tell Uriel or whoever," Dean begins before walking a few steps away and turning his back, "you do not want me doing this, trust me."

"Want it? No," Cas admits, saying that part to my face. "But I've been told we need it."

"You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out."

"For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this."

"Hazel, you need to go," Dean says, his back still turned.

"I'm not leavin'," I argue stubbornly. "No way."

"Hazel-"

"You willin' t'shoot an' kill me, Dean? Because that's what it'll take to make me leave you here all alone."

"Just use your damn wrist strap and go, Hazel!" he turns around and yells at me.

"No! Tha's not gonna 'appen!" I scream back at him.

Dean strides to me, and kisses me so hard and so passionately, it feels almost like he's kissing me goodbye. He hugs me tight, and then releases me.

"Don't go in there," he orders, tilting my chin up so I can look into his eyes. "And whatever you hear, that's not me. Okay, that-that monster that will be in there with Alastair, that is not me."

"I know," I say softly. "It'll be okay, Dean. Trust me on that. Okay? We'll make it through this, the angels will get the answers they need, an' then we're takin' a break. Christmas is comin' up soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," he closes his eyes tight (to hold tears in, I'm guessing) and then opens them, caressing my face with his hand. I lean into his touch. "Yeah. Okay, we'll do Christmas. Tree, presents, decorations, whatever you want. Whole nine yards."

"No supernatural shit, no extraterrestrial shit, no time travelling shit," I promise. He kisses me once more, softer and sweeter, and lets me go. He leaves me his jacket, which I put on and inhale his scent.

"You keep her safe," he orders Castiel. "Don't let her go in there. Keep her out here or wherever she wants to go, just not in there."

"M'stayin' right here, sweetheart," I reassure him.

"She will be safe with me, Dean," Cas vows. With one last look at me, he walks into the room where Alastair is bound, and slams the door behind him. The screams start up not long after, breaking my hearts.

"I hate that you're makin' him do this, Cassie," I admit with tears streaking down my face.

"I know," he says simply. I take a seat on the floor, curling his jacket closer to me.

"I don't think you do!" I snap at him. "It's breakin' my hearts, Cassie. Tha' is somethin' he didn't wanna become, an you're forcin' 'im to."

"You really care about him, don't you?" he asks.

"I've never felt this way before about anyone, Cassie," I say, nodding once, and try to drown out the demon's screams with my own thoughts.

An hour later, and the demon is still screaming, still taunting at my Dean. And when I hear my name fly from Alastair's lips, that's when he screams the loudest. All of a sudden, the lights start buzzing until a light bulb shatters, and Anna appears.

"Anna," Cassie says as some sort of greeting.

"Hello, Castiel. Cara."

"Hi, Anna," I say, heartsbroken, too miserable at what Dean is being forced to do to snap at her.

"Your human body."

"It was destroyed, I know," she explains to him, walking closer to the angel with the hidden black wings. "But, I guess I'm sentimental. Called in some old favours, and," she trails off.

"You shouldn't be here. We still have orders to kill you."

"Somehow, I don't think you'll try. Where's Uriel?"

"He went to receive revelation."

"Right." Alastair's screams pick up again. "Why are you letting Dean do this?"

"Forcin' s'more like it," I inform her, my eyes red from crying. I turn to my mobile phone to try to distract myself with my game.

"He's doing God's work," is Castiel's explanation.

"Torturing? That's 'God's work'? Stop him, Cas, please. Before you ruin the one real weapon you have."

"He's not a weapon!" I snap at her. "He's a human being! He's not some sort of gun or knife you can manhandle an' manipulate!"

They ignore me.

"Who are we to question the will of God?" Castiel retorts.

"Unless... this isn't his will."

"Then where do the orders come from?"

"I don't know. One of our superiors maybe. But not him. The father you love..." she walks to Cas and gets up in his personal space, "you think he wants this? You think he'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous? What you're feeling, it's called doubt."

Alastair starts screaming again, and I try to cover my ears to block out the sound. It doesn't work.

"These orders are wrong," Anna continues. "And you know it. But you can do the right thing. You're afraid, Cas. I was, too. But together, we can-"

"Together?" he interrupts, wrenching his hand from her grasp. "I am nothing like you. You fell! Go," he orders, walking away from her and closer to me. To keep an eye on me, I'd guess.

"Cas," she tries one more time.

"Go." And with a fluttering of wings, she does.

Hour two. The screams intensify and die down. Alastair mentions me again and his screams crescendo violently.

"Will the person he's wearin' feel any of that?" I ask, breaking the not-so silence once I died on my game, yet again. Damn level 115. Although, I'll admit it, I'm a bit distracted.

"No," Cas says, and I can't tell if he's lying for my benefit or not.

Third hour. Sam hasn't shown up yet. I'm getting tired of listening to this and wonder if it will ever really end, or if I'm trapped in some sort of time lock. I know I'm not, but that's what it seems like.

"Do you remember, when we were younger, you asked me why I didn't have wings?" I ask without waiting for an answer. "We were the best of friends, back then. Gabriel was in charge of the little fleshlings such as yourself. He would pretend to punish us for the antics we got up to, but was secretly pleased. Where is Gabe?"

"No one knows," Cassie admits. "Some believe him to be dead."

"What do you think?"

"I think... he is hiding, somewhere."

That's a good enough answer for me, so I continue talking.

"The only time I ever went to Heaven was when Dad took Donna an' Peter an' me back in time to watch the planet bein' formed. Did y'know there's an old Racnoss warship as the core for this planet? God was so pissed at us for snoopin', he brought us to Heaven an' demanded to speak with Dad. Michael was the one that brought him to him, leavin' Donna alone with us."

"Where is Peter?"

"Dead," I say bluntly.

"How?"

"He, uh," I take a shuddering breath. "He got shot by a Dalek protectin' me. Didn't wait for Dad, the little bastard. Mum had just gone back to Pete's World for her own protection. Peter, he yanked me out of the way an' got 'imself shot. Tried to regenerate on 'is own, an' couldn't sustain it. He exploded into ash."

"I am sorry."

I doubt it. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know the feeling.

"D'ya remember when you took me flyin'?"

"Yes."

"We made cloud angels," I crack the smallest of smiles.

"You almost fell through the cloud."

"You almost did, too, mister. Don't you forget that."

Hour the fourth. About ten minutes in, the screams stop. Completely. No Alastair taunting, no Dean yelling at him.

"Is it supposed to be that quiet?" I ask fearfully.

"Stay here," Castiel orders before sneaking in. Then there's sounds of a fight. Alastair taunting again, and then more fighting. Against my better judgement, I walk towards the room.

Castiel and a free Alastair are fighting. Dean is lying on the floor in a crumpled heap, and I can't tell if he's breathing or not, which terrifies me more than it probably should.

"Dean!" I call his name, rushing to him.

"Oh, look who decided to join us," Alastair smiles darkly from where he had Castiel pinned to a post, his hand on the angel's throat. "The little alien mutt."

"You better hope Cassie kills you first," I threaten, frantically checking him over. He has blood everywhere, and I can't tell what is his and what isn't. It's too mixed together, I can't separate it.

"This little celestial roach isn't gonna do anything after I'm done with him. And then I'm gonna torture little ol' you, just for kicks."

"Been there, done that, got the fuckin' t-shirt. You can't be any more cruel than UNIT was."

"I really wish I knew how to kill you, 'Cassie'. But all I can do is send you back to Heaven. Omnipotentis dei potestateminvoco," Alastair starts chanting. Once checking that Dean has a heartbeat (albeit a faint one), I realize that I left my gun behind when I went to search for him in the first place. So, I grab one of the knives off the table and stab Alastair in the back with it. "Oh, you bitch. But I'm not done with your 'bestest friend', yet."

"Yeah, you are," Sam walks in, raises his hand, and sends Alastair crashing into the wall. Cas, bloody, slumps to the floor.

"Stupid pet tricks," Alastair sneers. I head back to Dean and gingerly pull his head in my lap, knowing there's nothing I can do for him here except to keep him breathing and his heart beating.

"Please don't die," I plead softly. "M'not done with you, yet, Winchester, you can't die. I forbid it." I say that last part in hopes that he'll inform me that I can't tell him what to do, but he remains unconscious. "You promised me Christmas, an' I'm gonna hold you to tha'."

"Who's murdering the angels?" Sam questions harshly. "How are they doing it?"

"You think I'm gonna tell you?" Alastair retorts. Goddess, I fucking hate that demon.

"Yeah, I do." He does something or other, because Alastair's eyes roll to the back of his head and he starts gagging. "How are the demons killing angels?" Sam shouts.

"I. Don't. Know!" Alastair chokes.

"Right," Sam doesn't believe him for a second.

"It's... not... us," the demon struggles out. "We're... not doing it!"

"I don't believe you."

"Lilith... is not behind this. She wouldn't kill seven angels. She'd kill a hundred, a thousand." Sam drops his hand at Alastair's words and the demon pants heavily. "Oh, go ahead. Send me back, if you can."

"I'm stronger than that now. Now I can kill." Sam raises his hand again, closes his eyes, and concentrates. Alastair's body starts flickering bright yellow and he groans and screams. And then he crumples, dead, eyes wide open.

"Cassie!" I call panickedly. "Dean's pulse is fading!"

"Dean!" Sam darts over to us and feels for an almost nonexistent pulse. "Cas, you gotta do something."

Castiel walks over to us, places two fingers on Dean's forehead and grabs my manipulator (because angel and demon powers don't work on me, mixed DNA and all), and makes us three vanish, leaving Sam behind.

"I need help!" I scream, darting into the busy emergency room. "Please, someone help me! He's outside!"

"What happened?" a woman in scrubs asks me.

"He-he got hit by a car! I don't know what to do, please, help us! I think he stopped breathin'!"

The woman motions for three others to follow, and I lead them to the car-parking lot. They gently lift Dean onto a gurney and wheel him straight into an operating room.

"Will he be okay?" I ask with tears streaking down my face.

"They'll do everything they can to save him; he's in good hands," the woman reassures me. "We have the best surgeons in the state. What's his name?"

"His name is Dean, but that's all I can give you," I tell her, pulling out my psychic paper and trying to compose myself. "He's a material witness in the case I'm workin' on. I can't fill out anythin' or-or give you any other information on him. But his brother'll be comin' in as soon as he possibly can, an' can give you all the information you need."

"FBI?" she asks.

"Yeah," I sigh.

She walks away and heads back to her post, and I walk outside call Sam.

"Sam? Yeah, Cassie brought 'im to the closest an' best hospital. I used my badge; they won't ask too many questions. An' I only gave them his first name. Yeah, I'll see you soon."

Eighteen hours. That's how long they're in the operating room for. Then he's taken to the ICU. Dean's on a ventilator, and they say some sort of coma. He's hooked up to so many machines and wires, and he might not wake up. Sam says he'll pull through, he always pulls through, but I don't know. I thought my hearts couldn't break any more than they already have, but I am proven wrong.

Castiel stands outside the doorway three days later, and I motion for Sam to go talk to him. They go down the hall, out of my earshot. I stay with Dean, my hands grasping his left one, the one with the least amount of tubes and wires in it. Sam comes back about a minute later and reclaims his chair.

"What did he say?" I ask.

"He won't heal him," Sam fumes.

"This was his damn fault. He made the trap. He an' Uriel said Dean had to do this, an' he didn't. I don't know 'im anymore. He's changed, an' not for the better."

I can't do anythin' t'save 'im, Cassie. He might not wake up.

A week later, and no change. Cassie's still being a 'dick with wings' as Dean calls them. We still have no idea (and I'm beginning to think we won't) on who was behind the murders of the seven angels. I did call my mother, like she'd told me to, and told her everything she needed to know.

The doctors keep telling us that he probably won't wake up, and that we should take him off life support. The last time they did that, I warned them that I was not only a FBI agent, but a UNIT one as well, and if they kept spouting such nonsense, I'd take them in for pestering family members about a decision that had already been made. They then asked me if I was threatening them; I informed them that I was promising. Sam high-fived me, albeit a depressed one since Dean still wasn't waking up. Can high-fives be described in such a way? Maybe not. But Sam and I, we weren't exactly in the highest of spirits. The only times we left Dean's bedside was to shower and to get food, which we did in turns; in case he woke up, he wouldn't be alone.

"You really like him, don't you?" Sam asks randomly.

"Yeah," I admit. "I really do like your brother, Sam-ster."

"For what it's worth, he's never acted like this around other girls. He's that 'love-them-and-leave-them' type. But with you, he's... I don't know, different. I honestly think that this is the longest relationship he's had in a long time."

"One night stand king, eh?"

"Yeah," he chuckles. "You have no idea how accurate that title is."

"We 'aven't even had sex yet. He did ask me though if I could the same way a human could," I laugh a little bit, rubbing my thumb across the back of Dean's hand, paying caution to the tube in his hand.

"TMI, but, that there means that he's serious, Haze, if he's been waiting for the right moment."

"Does... does all this -the kissin', the hand holdin', the cuddlin' up in bed- does tha' make 'im m'boyfriend?"

"Have you never had a serious relationship before, Hazel?" Sam asks.

"I've never been left on a planet all by myself before, Sam, much less had a boyfriend," I admit, looking straight at him, then back to Dean.

It takes a moment for him to answer, but he does.

"I'd say so, but Dean isn't the 'labeling' type. In his mind, he probably calls you his girlfriend. But, he's chicken, and he might not say it out loud."

"Mmm," I say noncommittally.

"Hey, I'm gonna go grab a coffee. You want one?" he offers, rising from his chair.

"Is that a serious question?" I counter, cracking a small smile.

"Hey, you never know, Haze. You might not want coffee someday."

"And I will cry when that day comes," I joke with him, and he walks away and out of the room.

Once Sam is gone, I look straight at Dean.

"I wish you would open your eyes for me, sweetheart," I say softly, rubbing my finger across the stubble on his face. "S'incredibly selfish for you to keep them from me. I like lookin' at them." I sigh when I, expectedly, don't get any form of response. "I think I should also inform you that this whole not-answerin'-me thing is gettin' pretty old, too." Still nothing. "Y'know, when you promised me Christmas, that means that you an' Sammy are gonna have to go with me to pick out a Christmas tree for Bobby's. An' help me decorate it." Oh, for God's sake. "Sam died. I died. Sam crashed the Impala. Seriously, I thought that last one would work. Dammit."

Someone with healing capabilities must've done something, because a few hours later, he wakes up. Panicked, and not happy with the tube down his throat, of course. Man, talk about primitive medicine. Well, anyway, he calms down thanks to me and Sam, they take the tube out, and I couldn't be happier. Well, him being out of here would make me happiest, but, well, oh just shush.

"I'm so glad you're okay," I tell him as soon as the nurse leaves, kissing Dean right in front of his brother. Then I lightly smack his arm. "Don't you dare do that to me again, Dean Winchester."

"I'll try not to," he says raspily, his voice marred from days of misuse (not to mention that damn tube). He does crack a small smile, though. "Hey, when do you think I'll be able to get out of here?"

Sam and I share a look. Mine says, 'Is he for real?'; his says, 'He hates hospitals.'.

"None of that," Dean protests halfheartedly, and I smile at him.

"We're not even going to gratify your answer with a response, sweetheart," I say sweetly.

"I can honestly say that your girlfriend scares me, though, Dean, so I wouldn't push on this," Sam speaks up.

"Well, that doctor was a douchebag. All I did was tell him that," I say defensively.

"You threatened to arrest him, actually," Sam smiles amusingly.

"He had it comin'!"

"Yes, he did; but it's a good thing that he works at a hospital, because you might have given him a heart attack."

"Oh, now you're just makin' stuff up, Sam-ster."

"No, Hazel, no I am not."

"You're full of it," I laugh. "Don't listen to a thing your brother says, Dean, I think he's had too much hospital food."

"Well, at least I didn't have coffee every five minutes."

"I did not!" I crack up again at Sam's words, and he laughs, too.

When the nurses leave us alone for the night and Sam's back at the motel, that's when Dean starts.

"Hazel?" he calls softly. I look up from my game into the eyes that I have missed so much.

"Yeah?"

"Do you hate me?"

"Never," I deny instantly.

"Are you," he blinks and takes a deep breath, "are you afraid of me?"

"If I was afraid of you, Dean, I wouldn't have stuck around. Honest."

"Not sick of us, yet?"

"Nope," I crack a small smile.

"Hey, uh, what happened to Alastair?" he turns serious again.

"Sammy killed him," I tell him. "Good riddance, too. I fucking hated that demon."

"He said I was the first seal. He said that I started this whole mess."

"But you told me that demons lie," I try to comfort him, grabbing his hand.

"Yeah, they do, unless the truth hurts more."

"Well, I don't care if you did or if you didn't. You've had a long day, just go to sleep."

"But how can you say that, Hazel?"

"Because it's the truth, Dean. I don't care if you started this whole mess. Why should I? You were in Hell. You didn't know. If I was in your place, I would've done the exact same thing."

"But-"

"Have I ever told you why I don't have a planet?" I interrupt, and he shakes his head. "There was a war. They called it the Last Great Time War, and it affected everyone everywhere and everywhen in the universe. Daleks are machines that have only one emotion (hate) and only one purpose (to kill anythin' that isn't Dalek). The Time Lords stood up to them, an' said, 'This isn't right!' But eventually they reached Gallifrey. An' they started killin' all the Time Lord men, women, an' children. But m'dad, he stopped the Daleks at the cost of the Time Lords. It was a desperate attempt, but it worked, for the most part. Daleks, unfortunately, are still around. M'startin' t'think that they'll always be around. But the Time Lords, save Dad, and Gallifrey, aren't. So, y'see, I don't care. Now shift over. M'not sleepin' in this chair again."

I crawl under the sheets and rest my head on his white-t-shirt-clad chest. And, listening to his strong heartbeat, we fall asleep.

TBC

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