I'm back from vacation and I'll have you know that I did a LOT of writing! Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Dean or Sam Winchester or Castiel. I do, however, own Hannah

Hannah laid awake that night staring at the ceiling, the soft snores that came from Sergeant filled the air as she listened to her internal dialogue. She knew what Dean proposed was the right thing, but what was the catch? Everything these men did came at a price, how high would it be? What would they have to give up? Shadows of the tree outside her window danced on the walls while her mind flew through possible outcomes.

The dawn broke early and the alarm beeped loudly reminding Hannah that the weekend was over and worked awaited. She stumbled down the hall to the awaiting coffee, and whispered a groggy thanks to the retail gods for an automated coffee maker. As she poured the heavenly nectar into her mug, she took a sip and glanced out the kitchen window. A black impala sat on the curb outside of the house. Apprehension set in, she lived in a quiet neighborhood and knew her neighbors but his car was strange and suspicious. As a woman she had a right to but uneasy when a car was parked in front of her house early in the morning, but something deep down told her that the car was a good sign. Regardless of the deeper feeling Hannah retraced her steps down the hall and called for Cas. He noted the slight fear in her voice and found her quickly.

"What is it?"

Hannah pointed to the window and Cas took a few long strides to look at what was troubling her. Anticipation ran up and down his spine as he neared the window. The familiar car sat out front and the tension left Cas's shoulders. Hannah saw him relax, she took this as her cue to join him. It was then that the Winchester boys climbed out of the impala and made their way up to the front door. It was also then that Hannah realized she was in her sleepwear, shorts and a sports bra, and rushed back into the bedroom. When she finally came out dressed for work, the men were sitting around the table.

Dean glanced up when Cas opened the door, slight disappointment pricked him, but he couldn't place why. The brothers followed their friend into the kitchen and took the coffee that was offered to them. Dean let Sam explain what Kevin had found on the tablet while he zoned and chewed over last night's conversation or lack there of. After the outburst in the Impala the brothers had only spoken to each other when they had too, making for a quiet night. Dean din't understand why he was so protective of Hannah or why he had lashed out at Sam, knew what his brother was trying to get at but he didn't want to hear it, sure it was odd that there was virtually nothing tying an attractive woman to her house, that she shared with her boyfriend, no object from childhood, pictures of family, or anything else that made a house a home. That's what this place was, a house. Dean shifted uncomfortable at the realization that Sammy had been on to had wasted a night of research because he had gotten intrigued by a of a pair of soft brown eyes. Son of a Bitch.

Dean realized that Sam was getting to the end of the explanation, so he decided that it was time to start looking like he had been paying attention. A movement drew his eyes away from the men to the hallway. Standing in the morning light was Hannah, dressed for work in a black pencil skirt and a silky, deep purple blouse that fit her well. At least she's easy on the eyes. Hannah caught his eyes just after his though, and for the first time in a very long time his face felt a little warm.

Hannah took a minute to watch the guys as they discussed their plans. Sam and Cas were leaning on the table, clearly deeply involved in the topic at hand while Dean glanced around the room and was not the least bit engaging in the conversation. He frowned at a thought and turned to his brother. You used to be so involved with the hunts, what happened to that Dean? Hannah jumped slightly at the sudden thought, not understanding where it came from or how it was planted, a shiver ran up her spine. She stepped forward and saw Dean turn toward the movement. He was the only one that had noticed her. She raised an eyebrow as he looked her up and down, a smug smirk rested on her lips as the slightest of guilt flashed in his eyes as they met hers.

Hannah continued to her destination and leaned against the back of Cas's chair and tried to pick up the topic in which they were involved. Most of what they talked about was lost on her, but certain words pulled at her, whisking across her memory, making her feel like she should understand what they were discussing, like at one point she had understood the foreign and strange vocabulary, and the more she tried to search her vacant memory the more frustrated she became at the lack of meaning the words still held. More words were thrown into the air, the feeling of almost memories filled Hannah, now instead of her searching for meaning, incoherent thoughts began to smother her until she was nearly stifling. Flashes of light filled her vision, stills from things she couldn't remember, unidentifiable images and figures ebed and flowed, while her orientation began to waver. A scene of Cas standing with black wing cast upon the wall behind him, Sam holding up a CSI badge, Dean bruised and bloody. She gripped the chair back to keep from falling. Through the mist a hand grabbed her arm and brought her back to her fleeting senses.

Dean tried to stay engaged in the conversation but his glaze kept slipping up behind Cas. It was during one of his accidental glances that he noticed Hannah had a glazed look in her eyes. The hunter in him began to analyze. Her breath had started to come in shorter, more uneven bursts, her eyes drifted shut, eyebrows gathered, and he would bet her pulse had picked up as well. She started to sway, just slightly, barely noticeable, unless, of course, you were watching closely.

Dean stood without changing his gaze, her eyes darting wildly under her closed eye lids, she grabbed the back of the chair and he realized she was about to fall over. He reached out and grabbed her upper arm to steady her, in doing this, it seemed whatever had it's hold on her released its grip and her eyes sprang open and came back into focus. By this time the conversation had stopped and three sets of eyes were on Hannah. Dean squinted his eyes to focus, trying to figure out what had happened, but it was Cas who spoke.

"Hannah, what is wrong? What happened?" He had turned in his chair and was staring intently at the woman behind him. A forced smile, taunt on her lips, failed to reach her eyes.

"Just a dizzy spell, I skipped breakfast, guess I should grab something before I go." She retreated into the depth of the cupboards to find the supposed cause of her behavior. Cas seemed slightly unsure, but accepted the answer, Dean however did not. He tilted his head slightly before turning, to using his hand to help ask his question.

"Before you go? Go where?"

"To work." A confused but amused face turned to him from the kitchen and its owner leaned against the counter. "Some of us have rent to pay, and a job that expects them to come in on Monday mornings." Hannah glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. "Speaking of, I'm going to be late. I'll see you boys later?" She waved, but was hurt slightly when Cas made no move to give her their usual kiss good-bye. She stalled before she walked over and placed a gentle and on his shoulder. "I'm leaving." A soft statement was offered.

Cas looked up and saw the uncertainty in her eyes. Regret filled his as he realized, that in a small way he had let her down. He stood and took her in his arms before giving her a kiss. A relived sigh and returning peace was his reward before she turned to leave.

Dean was still standing, blocking the door, not letting Hannah pass.

"Excuse me, I need to get through." Hannah had grabbed her bag and stood with a hand on her hip. Cas looked up at the pair, knowing how stubborn Dean could be, he also knew that he had met his match.

"You need to stay here, we're going to start the trials and we could use all the hands we can get." Dean crossed his arms, taking the pose of a hardened soldier. Cas knew this side of Dean, he would be getting his way, no matter what he had to do.

"Dean I have to go to work." She mirrored his stance, accepting his challenge. The tension in the room began to spike. Cas stood and as he walked behind Hannah, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I would appreciate your presence. These trials will not be easy and I would like to have you beside me." He felt her tense, ready with a contradiction, but before she could voice it Sam jumped up and joined their small circle.

"Please stay."

Hannah sighed and disappeared down the hall, she soon returned in jeans and a T-shirt, in which Dean decided that she looked more comfortable and relaxed.

Hannah grabbed a muffin as she topped off her coffee before she realized that the conversation had stopped. The guys were watching her from the table, waiting for her to do something, what she didn't know.

"What's first?"

The men glanced around at each other, not knowing where to start.

"Well," Sam smoothed a piece that laid on the table. "We have the list of all the trials, but we don't know what they mean." He looked around the table before brushing the hair out of his eyes. "With some of the past trial they have been literal but some have been figurative. With these, if they are figurative, I'm not even sure how to go about decoding them,"

"May I?" Hannah held out her hand and accepted the paper that was handed to her. The paper looked like it had personally been through what the brothers had been through in the last year. A multicolored painting made up of stains covered the page, overused fold lines, and a spiderweb of crumple lines from being shoved in pockets nearly, but not quite, covered three, short, handwritten lines.

"This is it? This is what you have to do to fix the angels?" Hannah raised her eyebrow. You needed my help to do this? The blank, expecting stares answered her question. "Alright." Hannah walked back in to the kitchen and filled a bowl with warm soapy water. If they were literal they might as well get started and if not, well then they at least would then they would know. She grabbed a few dish towels before kneeling at Cas's feet. As she began to untie his shoes, Dean leaned forward, forearm on his knees.

"What are you doing?"

She had removed his shoes and making short order of his socks, she dipped her towel in the water and began to wipe his feet.

"The first thing on the list was "wash their feet" so that's what I'm doing." She had nearly finished Cas's first foot and was about to move on the his other.

"Hannah, stop. Let me do it." Cas realized that if Hannah was right and this was the first trial, if she completed it she would be forced to finish all of them.

"We don't know if they're literal or not." Sam stretched his arm across the table, palm up in an attempt to make a point. Dean noticed a slight glow at the tips of her fingers.

"Hannah you need to stop." Dean reached down and grabbed her arm away from Cas, kneeling down as he did. "Let me do it."

His forceful tone was not lost on her, but she returned with at tone that matched his own.

"I've already finished Cas."

Cas stood, walked around the bowl and knelt next to her. "I'm not going to let you do this."

Sam also moved, he now stood a few feet away, not allowing her to finish the task. Hannah saw Dean glance behind her and a different sternness filled his eyes,

"Sit down Sammy." Dean ordered. He let go of her arm and sat down heavily in the chair. Hannah wondered at the sudden change, but not enough to make her stop.

"Thank you." She directed her comment to both brothers as a very confused Sam sat down. She began to take off his shoes.

Dean glanced over Hannah's shoulder and saw Cas's damp footsteps on the tile floor. The slightly sudsy water glowed then evaporated in a sizzle of blue light. Dean realized it was too late, Hannah has started the trials.

All right, I've done my part, now you do yours and review!