A/N: I would love to receive some feedback on this story so far! Comments are welcomed, even begged for.

*gets on knees...gets mud on knees...freaks out and jumps up to go take a shower*

Yeah...leave a comment. Or something.

The Impala races down the road, Dean shooting chopped questions at me.

Who's the girl.

What happened.

Gadreel?

I answer as best I can, still trying to process that Gadreel is dead. It doesn't seem possible.

At the speed Dean drives, we're at the bunker in less than five minutes. I wonder how long it'll take to explain to our guest why we live in something that look like a militarized hobbit hole, but that will have to come later.

"Cas is still here, right?"

"Yeah, he'll get you fixed up in no time." Dean promises gruffly.

I shudder at his tone of voice. That's not my brother. That's the man who felt an obligation to save my life, maybe nothing more.

I would be an idiot to think that all is forgotten.

Dean unlocks the bunker door and shoves us inside, down the stairs to the main room. Dean almost carries me.

We manage to get situated at the kitchen table just as Cas comes creeping out of the library, like a shy woodland animal coming to inspect a new wonder.

"Sam." he greets me bluntly. Distantly.

"Hi, Cas." I gasp.

"We've got to get him fixed up, pronto." Dean orders.

Cas nods, eying Cameron curiously.

"She's hurt too." I pipe up.

The girl crosses her arms, the spunk she displayed when we met coming back with a vengeance.

"I'm fine. Really." she insists.

"She needs stitches." I argue.

"No, she doesn't, actually." Dean grins. "Someone had a birthday." he nods at Cas.

Cas steps forward, looking confused. "Technically, my birthday isn't..." he pauses as he catches on. "Ummm...Yes, I got my grace back."

I almost gag in relief. "Well, better do me first."

"How chivalrous." Dean says sarcastically.

"Shut up Dean." I look at Cameron, choosing my words carefully. "I don't want to scare her. She needs to see it happen to me before he does her." I address her, now. "Cameron."

"Yes?" she says slowly. At this point, we must all seem like mental institution escapees. Technically, I guess we are.

"Do you trust me?" I brave the question out.

Time stands still, and the cheesy fade out fades back in. She nods blankly.

"Don't just say it. Be honest with me." I plead. "It's important."

"I do." she almost whispers.

Melodramatic, I must admit, but I have to let it slip before it gets awkward.

It already is awkward...I'm about to show her how my angel buddy can heal magically. There's nothing not-awkward about that.

"Okay. Just don't freak out." I reply gently.

I nod at Cas, and he comes forward. He removes the coat from my arm, then places his hands over the damaged limb. A warm glow appears. I can feel it; gently melding back the broken bones, the ripped muscle.

Moments later, my arm is as good as new. I moan in relief.

Cameron's eyes widen.

"You want stitches or magic-hand-glow-man?" Dean asks her sarcastically.

"Dean!" I scold.

"How did he do that...?" Cameron's voice is barely above a low hum, and I don't think she's aware that she's stepping back slowly. Can't blame her.

"Um..." I stand up, reaching out and gently grabbing her arms, trying to make some good, honest eye contact.

"Castiel...he's an angel."

Cas smiles his new-person-hey-I'm-awkward-at-socializing smile. "Hello!"

She gawks at him. "He's a what?"

"Angel." I repeat.

She takes him in...the red, crumpled hoody and beat up blue jeans, tousled dark hair, and slightly crazed smile. "Okay..."

She's gonna lose it. I can tell. She's going to lose it, and Dean and I are going to have calm her down.

"Dude." Dean laughs. "She comes on a wild good chase she knows almost nothing about, watches you off Gadreel, gets flipped over in a car with you, and is standing here while you tell her that an ANGEL just magicked her arm...Sam. Keep her."

"Are you okay?" I ask Cameron, trying to ignore my brother's insensitivity.

She shrugs uncertainly. "I think so."

"So...magic or stitches?" Dean presses.

I want to punch Dean, but I keep holding Cameron's shoulders instead. Something solid and real for her, I guess.

"Well, I've never been a fan of stitches." She replies tonelessly, staring down at her hands.

"Is that a yes?" Cas asks. "I am sorry. Human conversation is still unclear to me at times."

Dean snorts. "Understatement. I told himself the other day to knock himself out, and he actually did." He waves a hand in front of Cas' face. "It means do your best, doofus!"

Cameron smiles weakly. "I'll take the magic or whatever."

I'm just about out of amazement with this kid. Seriously? She can't be human.

Cas does his thing, and moments later, I'm examining Cameron's healed hands in mine.

I grin nervously at her. "Well, how did it feel?:"

Her mouth opens and closes for a moment like a fish out of water before she answers. "It felt..different."

I shake my head, feeling a laugh building in my chest. "Different? That's it? Different?"

She smirks. "What am I supposed to say? It felt magical?"

Dean spits out a mouthful of coffee at her comment.

I'm falling asleep where I sit, exhausted by everything today held. And despite the fact that Cas has healed my arm, I'm still suffering from the burnt hands, the fever...I feel like I'm dying.

"No sign of Metatron, then." Dean comments. "Are you sure he's coming?"

I nod.

"Is Metatron going to pretend to be a rancher or something?" Cameron asks.

I have no idea what she's talking about. Then I recall the weird tone, the drawl that Gadreel had been talking with when I'd first woken up, after the accident. Maybe that's what she's talking about.

"No. It'll be much worse than that." I finally respond.

Dean and Cas have grown quiet, and as quickly as it came, the light atmosphere of the room is gone.

"He's lost his right hand man, I'm sure that that has greatly weakened his destructive forces." Cas suggests.

"So what's the plan?" Dean asks.

"I don't know. Keep the doors locked and hope the sigils hold?" I say.

"Like that's worked so well in the past." Dean says. "Look, let's just crash for the night. We're safe until at least morning; the sigils are pretty strong. We can decide where to go from there. We all need sleep anyway."