Dean sat twiddling his thumbs until he couldn't take it anymore. "Where the hell is that doctor? It's been hours, he snapped, his chair scaping against the polished floor as he stood up.

"Dude, you gotta let them do their job."

He ran a hand through his hair, and screwed his face against the tightness of the butterfly stitches on his eyebrow. "I called Cas."

Sam looked up from his coffee to glance at the door of the ward. "And?"

"Still not here. I don't know if he's gonna show."

"We might not need him, Dean, it might look worse than it is."

"No." he spat, balling his fist. "They're gonna come out here and tell us that she suffered serious blood loss, trauma to whatever organ's nearby and that there's nothing they can do. We were supposed to watch out for her. She didn't even need to be there."

"It's no use thinking like that, Dean, you know that. It sucks when another hunter gets hurt, I get it, but it wasn't our fault, and it wasn't hers, either."

"Yeah, well my brains doin' a great job of tellin' me it is."

They were interrupted by the doctor that had treated him slipping out of an adjacent room and heading toward them.

"Doc?" he heard Sam ask, his tall figure appearing next to him.

He remained silent for a few seconds, looking at both of them in turn. "They took her for surgery while you were being treated. The weapon punctured her liver. She suffered severe blood loss, even in the time it took you to get here. The surgery seemed to have worked, for now, but she needs blood. She's in room 12B, you can see her now, but she may not have come round yet."

Sam nodded, and Dean's jaw tightened.

"Boys." the doctor paused, "We can't guarantee she'll pull through. We're doing all we can."

Dean pushed past the doctor, leaving Sam to shake his hand and say thank you.

She looked pale and tiny in the bed, and Dean's stomach ached with guilt. She was bruised, her face and arms were purple, from hits she probably didn't even feel. He more than likely looked the same.

Sam slipped in behind him and Dean heard him sigh. He pulled Dean up a chair next to the bed and sat himself in one opposite. Dean reached for his cell phone again, anger boiling at Castiel's absence. He left a voicemail and slumped into the cheap plastic chair.

My insides burned with fire and ice and the same time. My eyes fluttered open, but felt heavy, and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold them open for long. That spear had gone in high, if I was feeling this shitty, it must have punctured my liver. If I was alive, it meant they've operated, but I'd seen this so many times. Motorcycle accidents, broken ribs, stabbings, fights, If your liver is punctured and you weren't treated in time, you would die of exsanguination, and even if you were, you still might not pull through. My mouth was dry and my throat was scratchy. I could feel every ragged breath and I couldn't move. I saw Dean sitting in the hard plastic chairs we buy from China for like a dollar, to fill rooms and bays and waiting rooms, and tried to say his name. I felt someone else jump up from my right side when they heard me rasp his name. was sitting on my other side, I just couldn't turn to face him.

"Hey, doc." Dean breathed, standing awkwardly at my side. "How you feelin'?"

"How do I look?" I managed to whisper.

"Million bucks." Sam answered from my other side. I smiled. My body felt like lead and I was warm and tired and fuzzy. Strangely enough, all that was going through my mind was that Dean looked good enough to eat in his dark plaid and dark jeans with his butterfly stitches and his strong arms crossed across his chest and his brows furrowed in concern and his lingering cologne and his green eyes and I... I felt like I was swimming. I felt good. High as a kite. "If you're the last thing I see," I managed a smile, "I would not complain." I think I might have winked, and tried to lick my lips suggestively, because he snorted, but my brain was feeling heavier in my head and the water was getting deeper and I was drifting further away from the edge of the pool. I blinked and then there was someone else in the room. He was wearing a trench coat and he had wings, and I felt fuzzy and laughed because I thought it might have been an angel.

"Cas." I heard Sam and Dean breathe a simultaneous sigh of relief.

"What do you need, Dean?"

"Maya... she... I think she might be dying."

"I am." I quipped, but I don't think anyone found it funny. I did.

"Dean I-"

"I know what you're going to say, Cas. But I need you to do this. We were supposed to be watching her back, but we didn't. This is my fault and we owe her."

There was silence, and I heard ringing in my ears and everything was muffled like I had a pillow over my head. Then I felt warm hands on my chest. My eyes fluttered shut at the comfort and everything felt like warm milk and honey. I felt the weight from my chest leave me and my cuts close up. I could breathe easier, I could move my fingers. Then it was hot. So hot. Hotter than all the suns in all the universes put together and it was inside me. I felt lava replace my blood, a fire replace my heart and I cried out, my throat burning and my body twisting in pain. I felt like my bones were breaking all at once, I heard Dean yell: "Cas" and felt strong arms grip me.

"What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?"

"Cas. Stop!"

And then nothing.

And then I felt strong.

He didn't know what the hell had just happened to her, but Dean knew she was alright now. Her cuts had gone and her skin was no longer purple. She looked beautiful, glowing, even through the dimmed lights of the ER at night.

"Maya?"

She turned to look at him, blue eyes finding his. "Hey, handsome." She smiled, her fingers grazing the soft fabric of his shirt languidly. She still seemed spaced out.

"How do you feel?" Cas asked, his eyes filled with concern. "I do not know what happened."

"Hey," she whispered, pointing lazily to the angel as though she was drunk. "You're hazy. Kinda red. You feeling ok?"

Cas looked from her to Sam and then to Dean. He moved closer to her.

"And what about Sam? Dean?"

"Um. Red... you're all kinda red right now. But Dean you gotta bit of orange. Sam: blue."

"Aura..." Dean heard Cas mumble. His head shot up.

"Excuse me?" He asked, folding his arms again.

"I fear I may have done more than heal her."

"Uh-oh." Maya whispered. She still seemed hazy, like the drugs hadn't left her system.

"Angels. We can see Auras, if we try. We can see into you, see the colours of your soul and your very being."

Sam sucked in air and Dean felt a prickle of fear up his spine. What the hell had he done?

"She's an angel?" He asked, his eyes darting between her and Cas and Sam.

"No, she is not an angel. But she may have the grace of one."

"Holy shit." Slipped out of Maya's mouth.

"Quite." Cas responded, sinking heavily into Dean's empty chair.

We sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the steady buzz of the Emergency Room. Nobody was looking at each other, and I felt restless, eager to move. I remained still, though, and turned my attention to Castiel.

"Is this... is this... ok?" I asked, shifting a little between the scratchy hospital sheets.

"I don't know." His brow was furrowed in concentration, and I wondered what he was doing. "I'm listening to my brothers and sisters, to see if anybody has noticed a shift. If you do have angelic grace, I imagine it would be felt in heaven."

I looked dumbly at Sam, who was now standing at the foot of my bed. "Angel radio." He said quickly, as if it was a totally normal thing.

"Right." I looked at Dean, who was leaning against the door of my room. I could see him working this over in his head.

"So she's walking around with the powers of one of you." It wasn't a question. It sounded accusatory, and for a brief moment I wondered if he was considering that I might end up being something he needed to hunt. "Will she be ok?" he asked eventually, his voice sounding softer and more concerned.

"I do not know. This... this is not something I've ever experienced before. I have not picked anything up on my... angel radio. They may not realise this happened. We should keep it that way."

"Why?" I asked dumbly, my arm itching from the IV.

"They may see you as a threat. This... this is not the kind of thing that they would find acceptable. We must find out what is really going on. We cannot do it here."

I began detaching the IV and the wires; I felt fine. Weird, but fine. I knew I was healed, and I knew my body was stronger that it had ever been. We needed to sneak out, they knew me here, and I didn't want to be here when they realised I'd discharged myself and made a run for it.

"We gotta go now." I said firmly. "They'll be doing rounds soon, and if they see I'm suddenly miraculously healed they're going to ask questions. Where's my stuff?"

Dean pointed to the pile of clothes sitting on an end table, and I slid myself onto my feet. I thought I'd feel unsteady, but I felt totally normal, as if none of this had happened, as if I hadn't been dying ten minutes ago. I picked up my shirt from the pile. 'Yuck." it was covered in blood. "Guess I won't be wearing that."

"Here." Dean slipped of his plaid shirt and handed it to me. "You'll have to pray your jeans are ok, cause you're not havin' mine." He smirked, and I suddenly felt very aware that I was wearing a hospital gown.

"Lifesaver. Literally." I smiled, and he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed, as if to reassure me that it everything was a-okay, and I hadn't just been given angelic superpowers.

My jeans were fine, thankfully, and I slipped into my en-suite to change. I pulled off the hospital gown and stood in the mirror. I looked at my stomach. Where there should have been bruising, and blood and scars, there was nothing. I traced my hand up to where I'd felt the spear go in and there was nothing. No sign that any of this had happened. I looked better than the two brothers did. I pulled on my jeans and my boots and picked up Dean's shirt that was draped on the door handle. It was soft, and still warm, and even though he'd been fighting and sitting and waiting it still smelled faintly of his cologne. I slipped my arms through the sleeves and pulled it round myself. It was too big for me, of course, but I felt safe wrapped in the fabric that smelled like him.
My hair was a mess, how dare Castiel not fix my hair, I thought, sarcastically, and I pulled into a loose bun using a tie I found in my jeans pocket. I didn't care too much, but I wanted to look normal if I was sneaking out of the hospital and back into the real world.

"You guys ready?" I asked, closing the bathroom door behind me.

Dean handed me my coat. "Let's go."

I pulled it on and placed my self behind Sam and Dean and in front of Castiel. There was nobody outside my room, and the nurses station was busy with charts and visitors so we got to the exit corridor easily enough. The gentle breeze hit me as I stepped out of the hospital, and boy was I glad to feel it. I spent too much time at this hospital, but now I doubted I'd ever see it again. The case was unfinished, but I didn't think Sam and Dean would let me anywhere near it after this, and I was kind of glad. What a pain in the ass this ghost family had been.

"You wanna let me drive?" Dean's voice snapped me out of my reverie.

"Can you?" I asked, a smirk on my lips.

"How dare you." he responded, playfully.

I patted my jacket pockets for my keys, but a jangling in front of me told me Dean already them. "Watch my clutch." I said, and hopped into the passenger seat, Sam and Castiel in the back.