She became aware of voices next, male and familiar. Only that , just voices.

"…Come from? Who is she?"

"She says she's an angel."

A deep dismissive scoffing sound….

"You don't believe that! She was found lying in the mud by the river by a bunch of street rats. Does that sound heavenly to you?… Wait! You don't actually believe it, do you?"

A patient sigh. A rustle of cloth.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, Jake-"

Jake? Who was Jake?

" -But I can tell you what I know. She's been here for almost 2 weeks, unconscious. She hasn't eaten or had any water. She should be starving, wasting away. She should be dehydrated at the very least. Yet every day she grows stronger. Look at her hair. Do you remember how tangled and muddy it was?"

"You didn't do that? Mrs. Shaughnessy? "

Who was Mrs. Shaughnessy? She wondered.

"Beyond the first day when we cleaned her up, no, neither of us has touched her," Samuel went on, "Yet she is immaculate now. Her hair appears freshly brushed. Her nails haven't grown but there isn't a speck of dirt under them."

"So what are you saying?"

A heavy, deep sigh. "I don't know. I just know that, whatever she is, she isn't human, and something tried to kill her."

"So you're afraid of her?"

"No! I'm not afraid of her! But we have no idea who – or what – tried to kill her. What if it comes looking for her?"

"Then we'll be ready-"

"Ready for what exactly?"

"I don't know."

"That's the problem!"

"Well, you're the detective. I'm just a doctor."

Another snort of derision. "Just a doctor. Of course you are." Pause. "But that's part of the problem. I've been checking for all the weeks she's been here and no one has any idea who she is. No one has ever seen her before."

"Perhaps Pinkerton should be more careful and hire detectives who can actually…. Umm, detect?" Amusment, bordering on laughter.

"Well if you are a better doctor than I am a detective, why isn't she waking up?"

Another pause, longer and then a pronouncement that seemed sad and confused.

"I don't know. I honestly do not know."

The voices slipped away into the fog and serene peace settled once again. Raeth couldn't be completely certain in her current state. But one of those voices had been Sam's reincarnation. The other sounded strangely like Dean.

Or perhaps that wasn't so strange at all.

(0)

Several days later.

As the town doctor, Samuel Campbell was assigned what was considered the finest house in the newly formed city of Seattle. It was 2 stories, but hardly anything grand compared to what houses would be in another hundred years. He had a few rooms in the front set up for his practice – an exam room and his office, and the small bedroom where Raeth was residing. A small apothecary nestled in a glass case in the hallway by the front door. His living quarters were upstairs and he shared those with his cousin, Jacob Campbell. But if Jacob wasn't Dean, then Raeth had never met either man.

They weren't brothers in this incarnation, but cousins and Samuel was a year older. Samuel's parents had been mysteriously murdered in their cabin when Samuel was very small and he had been raised by his aunt and uncle who were Jacob's parents. So virtual brothers, as far as Raeth was concerned. Jacob was married, to Sarah, and had a son, Jonathan. He was a employed by the Pinkerton Detective Agency and had a much bigger house a few blocks away, one supplied to him by the Agency. He had come to question her a few times. He seemed to have 99 different types of skepticism.

She had picked up a lot in bits and pieces listening to conversations as she drifted in and out of awareness. She was now well enough to spend some time outdoors, sitting in a wicker rocking chair on the front porch of the doctor's house. It had a cover, which helped since late winter days in Seattle tended to be gray and misty. She was sitting there, now, wearing a blouse and long skirt, and heavy woolen stockings loaned to her by Sarah Campbell, with a heavy quilt over her legs, placed there by Mrs. Shaughnessy – who it turned out was Dr. Campbell's housekeeper/cook/clinic assistant. She was a small, plumb woman with graying blond hair, a splatter of freckles and a ready smile. A light Irish brogue betrayed her origins. She had brought a tray out to the porch with some tea and a plate of cookies that a grateful patient had dropped off for Dr. Campbell.

Raeth ate them to be polite, so no one would worry about her overmuch. Only Samuel watched her eat with curiosity and something else in his eyes.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Samuel walked out the front door, escorting a woman with an adolescent son. The son was wearing a brand new splint bandaged neatly to his left arm and a chastised look on his face.

"Thank you, Dr. Sam," the woman said, "Ezra, what do you say to Dr. Sam?"

"Thank you doctor," the boys mumbled.

Samuel smiled, ruffled the boy's hair and answered, "Think nothing of it. But stay out trees for a while. Yes?"

"Yes, Dr. Sam," the boy intoned, with a slight eye roll, but it didn't seem disrespectful.

Samuel laughed. "You both have a good day now," he said.

With another nod, the woman and her son stepped out into the dirt road and began walking north toward the center of town. Samuel watched them go until they merged seamlessly into the crowd that always seemed to be coming to and fro in front of his house; and then turned to Raethaniel.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

Her connection to Heaven was strong again. Her Grace was restored a little more each day. So she nodded politely.

"Much better thank you," she replied.

He started to sit in the rocking chair next to her but paused and gave her a questioning look.

"May I join you?"

"Of course."

He sat, stole a cookie from the plate and grinned at her when a few crumbs fell on his vest.

Brushing them away thoughtlessly, he asked, "Do you mind answering a few questions?"

"More questions? Isn't that usually your cousin's forte?"

"It is," he acknowledged. "But I have a few of my own."

She nodded.

"You said that it was your brother who left you on that riverbank?"

Raeth hesitated – which she saw Samuel make note of. "It was. But before we continue may I ask you a few questions?"

His eyebrows lifted high on his forehead. "All right," he said, settling back in the rocker and stretching his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. "Ask."

She glanced over her shoulder at his front door, gold etched frosted glass proclaiming his name and the address – and more.

"The symbols at the bottom of your window," she said, "those are Hunter signs."

He seemed startled, opened his mouth for what she knew was going to be a lie. She gave him a frank, dark eyed stare and then let her Grace glow around the edges for a moment. Behind her, a misty outline of shadowy wings began to appear on his house. He tensed, drawing back, started to stand, reaching behind him under the edge of his vest for a weapon that must surely be there.

She let the glow fade and waved him back down. "I won't hurt you. I told you. I'm an angel."

He recovered quickly, sinking back down, forced his hands to relax, though he gripped the arms of the rocker until his knuckles showed white. He kept glancing at the front of his house where the winged shadow had been a moment ago.

"How?" He asked. "How did you get left in a river for dead?"

"My brother never intended to kill me. Dumping me in a river wouldn't do that anyway. Most of what I told you is true – I found out he was betraying friends of ours in a dangerous way and I tried to stop him. He sent me here to keep me out of his way until he could finish."

"An angel is doing this?" Samuel said, in a mystified voice.

Raeth felt a pang of sympathy. Angels were nothing like their earthbound religions made them out to be. It could be a difficult pill, even for a Hunter who was also a doctor.

She sighed. "A fallen angel, though I love him still," she told him. "I am sorry to be a burden to you, Dr. Campbell. But I mean you no harm and as soon as my strength is fully recovered, I'll be on my way."

"And this dangerous thing your 'brother' is doing?"

She shook her head. "It is no danger to you."

He seemed relieved. A great deal of tension ran out of his broad shoulder, though his backbone was still rail straight. He stood.

"Would you stay here until I can get my cousin? I would like him to hear this and can you… "He hesitated, waving his hands vaguely at her eyes and his wall.

"Prove it to him?" She asked.

When he nodded, she inclined her head. "He's a Hunter too, I assume." Raeth knew he was. One of the conversations she had overheard had been late last night and had involved Samuel berating Jacob for getting impaled by a spike he had described as having 50 years of rust and lockjaw on it. Jacob had grumbled and complained but had eventually agreed sarcastically to kill the monster before getting impaled the next time.

But she wanted to give Samuel the right to admit it to her. He had the look of a man who had just had everything he thought he knew tossed in the air and rerouted down an unfamiliar road. It was like that with humans, she knew. Hunters seemed to handle the abrupt changes better than most.

"He is," Samuel admitted.

"I'll wait," she promised.

Samuel was up like a shot and moving down the road towards his cousin's house. Raethaniel watched him until he was swallowed by distance and the crush of pedestrian traffic. Then she sat back to wait.

(0)