I LIIIIIIIIVE! Haha sorry about the extended absence, I was travelling and then settling in back at my parents' place. I'm sorry to say that there will be another delay before the next chapter, because I have not yet written the next chapter. I'm sure I will soon though!

I've kinda re-shaped Hannah a tad. Idk. I think I've made her more bohemian than she is in canon. I've softened her initial determination to get things back to how they used to be and focused more on the Hannah who was Cas's friend, who had a bit of a crush on him and who questioned herself and her nature. It's still all Hannah, just not Hannah quite as we first knew her. I did like Hannah a lot; she was the closest we got to fem!Cas (well until the show actually gave us fem!Cas).

Speaking of the show... slight rant now which you can feel free to skip, but nothing bad. I'm liking it. The latest ep was great! Speight Jr did a brilliant job. As for destiel, I feel weird about it. On one hand, Cas and Dean are closer than ever and they are so fucking married, so comfortable and familiar with each other now, so healthy and cute, and I love it. I love seeing Castiel Winchester living full time in the bunker (why is he still wearing that dumbass coat though BURN IT and wear jeans and plaid already), I love all the pep talks and attention he's getting from the brothers (about time they started saying shit to Cas instead of assuming he already knows it), I love that Dean is comically protective and Sam is all patient understanding and Mary called Cas one of her boys. I breathe that shit. But on the other hand, this is the most I have ever felt like the show is working at genuinely portraying it as a brotherly relationship. I don't buy it, of course; I can't, I see this relationship as romantic and I always have and I always will. The show did that in the first place, it really is just too late now. But I've been saying for a long time now that the queerbaiting is what angers me, not the lack of canon. What I wanted for this season was for Cas to start healing and to understand that he is loved, and for the queerbaiting to end one way or another. Those things are kinda happening. The show is toning down on the ridiculously romantic subtext and the sexual tension is pretty much totally replaced with a comfortable affection that honestly could be anything from besties to bros to a long-term couple. OK, the bickering is strongly a romantic trope. But it all just feels way less slimy and underhanded than it used to and if this is all we ever get, I'm kinda OK with that. This show has done so much wrong and been so dishonest but now it feels like they're committing to a particular feel for Castiel's narrative and his place within the Winchester family, and it's solid and healthy and really nice. Obviously I am still dreaming of canon destiel, but it's just a dream. It won't happen. Maybe at this point, even if it feels bitter to let the show get away with that level of bullshit, it really is for the best. Anyway! Enough from me. Enjoy!

The needle hurts.

They warn me as soon as I lie down on the recliner in the tattoo parlour, but I'm still shocked by the first few jabs and then the building pain as it goes on. The tattooist glances at my face from time to time, dark eyes sceptical beneath arched pink eyebrows. She's chewing gum and I try to focus on the sweet, cold scent of it instead of wincing and clenching my teeth and fists, but my eyes are stinging and my throat aches from holding back any sound.

I dare to glance down to see how much has been done. Only three and a half symbols have been inked onto my lower ribcage. I flop my head back with a low groan. The tattooist hums in a vaguely sympathetic way.

"Yeah, it's not much fun gettin' it put on. But man, this is gonna look awesome. These symbols are really different from stuff I've seen. You say you made this language up?"

I take a deep breath and try to keep my voice calm and relaxed instead of taut and pained when I reply. "Sort of. You could say that."

"Huh," she says, peering down her pierced nose as she moves onto another symbol, focused on her work. "So what does it say then?"

I panic, confused and distracted by my discomfort. I say the first thing on my mind, the first thing that is always on my mind. "Uh, Dean."

She looks up at me. "Dean? This whole thing just says… Dean?"

Shit. I'm not a good liar when I'm in pain, as I'm discovering quickly. "No, I mean, it's, uh… it's about Dean. A man named Dean."

A knowing look forms upon her elven features. "OK. So is this Dean family or is he special in another way?"

I can feel my face warming. Why did I even feel the need to lie? I could have spoken honestly and said that the tattoo is for protection. I'm too defensive and secretive about the angelic world, especially as it's no longer my world. The tattooist has paused in her work, staring at me expectantly. I frantically try to recall her question, my ribs burning.

"Special. I mean, yes, he's… Dean is special in every way."

She smiles gently at me and then bends her head to her task once more, making me grunt with suppressed pain. "Well, you gotta tell me what it says now."

Damn it. "Uh…"

"Jules, stop with the damn nosiness!" cuts in the man lounging at the cash register. I'd almost forgotten that he was there. He's small and stocky with a beard and a lot of tattoos and he appears to run the shop with Jules, who's tall and skinny with very few visible tattoos except a lot of inked rings and bracelets on her hands. I'm relieved at his interjection until Jules sticks out her tongue at him and looks back at me, undeterred.

"Come on, at least tell me about this Dean guy. Is he cute?"

I blink at her and nod slowly. My understanding of the word 'cute' is unclear but Dean fits all possible definitions. He is good-looking and he also has a number of endearing traits and habits, such as mumbling into my hair whilst asleep or looking disproportionately proud of himself for stealing food from my plate. Jules grins, winks and then goes back to work, finishing off another symbol with a flourish.

"Knew it. So you're not with the chick out in that sweet ride then?"

I glance out the window at where Hannah is sitting motionless in the Impala across the street, staring straight ahead. I grimace through the pain of the needle and manage to choke out a response as Jules pauses again. "No. I'm romantically involved with Dean."

Jules nods and the man at the cash register snorts.

"Big shocker," he mutters. I screw my eyes up through another, longer round of jabbing and when I look down again through unshed tears, another symbol lies starkly black against my reddened skin. I'm breathing heavily and Jules tuts.

"You ain't a natural with this, gotta say. This Dean better be worth it."

"He is," I reply automatically. I think for a moment before adding: "The sweet ride is actually his."

Jules brightens. "Well, damn, he's a keeper! That thing is hot."

I nod seriously. "On warm days it can be. Dean says the air conditioning is 'gentle', but I think a more accurate term is 'ineffective'."

Jules stares at me for a moment before twisting to look at her colleague. They both burst out laughing simultaneously. Jules turns back to me, grinning widely.

"I like you, Jimmy. Alright, let's get on with this…"

I startle at her use of the name I gave her, but then she's resuming her work and I'm too caught up in stabbing pain to dwell on the original inhabitant of my body. The body I'm now permanently marking to cut myself off from my brethren, even more completely than I was cut off previously.

I clench my fists and hiss through my teeth, determined not to cry out or let tears fall until it's over. I need to become accustomed to pain through human senses.

It feels like many hours later when Jules finally proclaims my tattoo complete. I examine the finished warding carefully and then, satisfied with the accuracy of the symbols, I listen carefully to the instructions for care and hygiene. Jules puts a dressing patch over it and is kind enough to wash the pen off of my back from where Hannah carefully drew the design onto me.

"Don't know why you had to do a practice one on yourself anyway," she mutters to herself. "Weird. OK, you're all done, Jimmy! Thanks for coming in."

"Thank you!" I say earnestly, pulling my shirt back on and wincing slightly as I stretch my tender flesh. I paid in advance so I make my way straight back to the car, gingerly and with clenched teeth. Hannah watches me impassively but as I reach the Impala, she suddenly opens her door and climbs gracefully out.

"You look like you're in pain. I should drive."

I pause, feeling reluctant to put Dean's beloved Baby under control of an angel who almost merged into the side of another car twice whilst driving through Fort Collins. But I am in a lot of pain and I feel exhausted. I nod my thanks and drop the keys into her outstretched palm.

"Just drive very carefully," I tell her as I dig some more painkillers out from the bag in the back seat. I swallow them down with some water and start eating another granola bar as I settle in the passenger seat, reclining it a little. Hannah is meticulous in checking her mirrors and over her shoulder as she pulls out of the space and I smile tiredly.

I'm asleep before we're twenty miles out of Denver.

I awaken to Hannah's fingers on my forehead, jolting upright and then crying out hoarsely as my new tattoo burns and flashes with pain. She recoils, eyes huge in the golden afternoon light.

"Castiel," she says a little dubiously. I slump back and nod at her, heart racing. Being awoken by an angel is not pleasant or peaceful. "I'm sorry to wake you. We've just crossed the border into Kansas. I'm not sure where to go from here. Are you feeling well enough to resume driving?"

I twist slowly, wincing, to look behind us. Sure enough, the 'Welcome to Colorado' sign is barely fifteen feet to the rear of the Impala, which has been neatly pulled over to the side of the road. I turn back to Hannah.

"I can drive from here, yes. Thank you, Hannah."

She inclines her head calmly. I get out of the car and stretch as carefully as possible. It's only a superficial sort of pain. I'm already getting used to it. I pull my phone from my pocket and frown regretfully as I see a text from Dean, received over an hour previously.

Hey, all OK?

I hasten to reply, realising that I should be giving Dean enough warning to set everything up anyway. I hope the few hours it will take to reach Lebanon will be enough for him. I feel a strange mixture of excitement at reuniting safely with Dean and terror that our haphazard plan will go wrong.

Absolutely fine. We've just entered Kansas. Will you be ready for when we arrive?

His reply is swift, luckily.

U bet. Kevin's in on it 2, told him this morning. Gonna double check the Enochian.

My brow furrows at this news. I don't want Kevin to get hurt. His bitterness about the danger he's in and the life he's missing out on is still vivid in my mind.

That's fine, but keep him away from the altercation. Kevin is not a trained fighter.

Yeah I know. When u get here, text me then wait a good 15 mins before u come in. Should defntly have Zeke trapped in the warding by then. C u soon!

I send back a text confirming my understanding as I walk back to the car from where I've wandered. Hannah is sitting like a mannequin in the passenger seat, steady blue gaze directed forward. I slide in behind the steering wheel and pull out, stepping firmly on the gas.

"Everything is looking ready," I announce. I glance across to Hannah but she doesn't respond, still staring ahead. She looks deep in thought. "Hannah?"

She startles and blinks at me. "Castiel. I'm sorry, my thoughts were occupied elsewhere."

"That's alright…" I say slowly. She looks away and I watch the road for a moment until my curiosity overcomes resistance. "What were you thinking about?"

Hannah doesn't reply for so long that I've already sheepishly accepted her silence and resumed thinking about the plan when she next speaks. Her voice is quiet and hesitant, more human than she's sounded before.

"I'm not sure if I should be asking you personal questions. You are my leader."

I wince. "Hannah, I'm not-"

"Yes, you are," she cuts across me sharply. "But you are also… different. Special."

I glance at her in consternation, but she's studying her knees, frowning. "How am I special?"

She gives me a withering look and I smile slightly, nodding. "Alright. Extraordinary things have happened to me, around me. I have been at the centre of world-changing events, but-"

"No. The things that you have seen and done are unimaginable. But I was speaking of you personally. You are unique. You are a miracle."

I shift uncomfortably, hands beginning to sweat on the wheel. "I don't… I don't think that's… Hannah, you barely know me."

She sighs deeply. "I know that you were like this before you turned human. You rebelled against Heaven, you befriended humans, you became a legend. Now you are human, but your soul sings like grace. It is incandescent. You encompass both angel and human. You are something new, and I cannot speak for all angels but I think that you are the way forward. That is why you are my leader."

I open and then close my mouth, stunned and speechless. Another cautious sideways glance shows that Hannah is sitting up straight, eyes shining, passionate and convinced. Before I can attempt to form a response, though, she speaks again, sounding suddenly very unsure.

"I wish to ask you something irrelevant. I apologise if this is impolite. You can refuse to answer."

I swallow. Hannah seemed so detached earlier, but she clearly feels strongly about this. About me. I have no idea how to respond to that. "Go on."

"Alright. The human, Dean. Dean Winchester. You care for him. Is it… do you feel love for him? As humans do?"

I look at her again. She looks confused and frustrated, as though she's trying to work out a flaw in logic. Dean said that she and I were alike; I'm beginning to see how right he was. I can feel an aching, sad fondness growing the more I get to know Hannah.

"Yes," I say gently. "I love Dean. I love Sam and Kevin too. But I love Dean in a more… profound way, and I felt this as an angel too. It's thought that angels can't really love. I don't believe that. We love our Father, do we not? If we can feel that, we can feel other things too."

Hannah huffs, sounding more human than she has previously. "I don't know. I don't know what I can feel. It's been difficult. Falling."

I nod tiredly. "It is difficult. Emotions are very difficult."

She's silent for several seconds before speaking once more, voice very serious. "Perhaps angels follow an emotionless existence because it is easier. Because feeling nothing is more bearable than feeling everything. Perhaps we angels choose to stay focused and detached up in Heaven rather than entering into pain and chaos down here. Perhaps we are right to do so."

I lean my head back against the seat, tired eyes fixed on the road stretching ahead of me. My tattoo throbs and my soul aches and for a moment, all the pain and guilt and confusion I've earned for myself since rebelling seems like countless claws in my skin, dragging me down. But then I think of Dean, the way he lights up a little when I tell him I love him, the way it seems to make more sense to him each time, the way saying it out loud feels like a triumph. I smile.

"Perhaps not," I murmur.