Dean's eyes opened and she sprung upright from her hunched position over the library table. Casting a glance around her to assure herself that nobody had seen her, she wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, relieved that she hadn't been drooling all over the book she'd fallen asleep reading. Her head was pounding, the lights feeling a bit too bright for the sleepy girl and she groaned as she looked back down at the useless tome she'd been reading. It was a short account of the various witch trials, but she hadn't read a single thing about Hecate that couldn't be written off as fiction. Like Arteban, she was a ghost that no one believed in.

A warm hand wrapped itself around her mouth the same time an arm wrapped around her waist and tugged her backwards. Her startled scream was muffled by the hand, and she tried to stomp on her attacker's feet, but they danced out of the way as they pulled her up to her feet, turned her to face them, and shoved her back firmly against a bookshelf. Before she got a good look at his face, she sunk her teeth into the soft flesh and he yanked back with a hiss.

"Ow! Damn it, Dean, would you calm down? It's me!"

She stayed against the shelf, her chest heaving, heartbeat racing so fast it hurt. When her vision corrected itself, she was able to take in the man standing in front of her, a sheepish look on his dark face. She went so still she could have been a monster herself, her brain not quite understanding what she was seeing right in front of her. It was too good to be true, and she thought for a moment that she was still asleep, or maybe hallucinating.

Gabriel looked exactly as she'd left him. His dark eyes were wide, laughter crinkles on his forehead, dimples on either side of his small smile. His cheekbones, unmarred and perfect with skin that always seemed to be glowing. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, staring back at her like she held the sun in her hands. How was this even possible?

"I guess you're probably wondering how I'm alive, huh?" Asked Gabriel, and Dean's words got caught in her throat as she tentatively reached out a hand to touch him. Her fingers connected with the cotton of his cream colored shirt and felt the warmth of his skin beneath it. Anger, fear, and relief all rushed into her at once as she lunged at him, her hand connecting with his cheek so quick he barely saw it move. She shoved him backwards, her teeth gritting and her breathing returning to a ragged pace as she was blinded by her emotions.

"How are you alive? You left me there? Alone? Where have you been this whole time? Why didn't you send help?" The questions poured out of her. Control had left her as soon as she felt that he was a corporeal being. She just wanted to understand. Wanted to know why this was happening to her.

Gabriel caught her hands in his own with no force at all, but it was all it took for Dean to collapse into his chest and allow his arms to encircle her. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "For everything. For scaring you. I wasn't sure what you'd do if you saw me. The nuns can't know I'm here."

They slid down to the ground together, still embracing as Dean fought to regain control of herself. She took several deep breathes before finally looking up at his face. "Why?" She asked, her voice cracking.

Gabriel heaved a long sigh and looked above her head at nothing, trying to gather his thoughts. "Because...by all rights, I'm dead."

"But then, how are you here?"

Her mind raced for an explanation while he took his time to formulate the correct response. He was warm to the touch, and his eyes were still the same inviting shade of dark brown. There was nothing on him that she could see that he'd changed into a supernatural creature. If he were a demon, would he offer her a deal? Or would her soul have been lost the minute he put his hands on her?

"Screw it," Gabriel hissed under his breath before catching his gaze on hers. "There's nothing in the rules saying I can't tell you about myself." He paused again, nervously squeezing his hand into a fist and stretching it out again several times. "I'm an angel. An archangel, to be specific. Hence the name...Gabriel."

As the words sunk in, Dean sat very still and with wide eyes, her mouth opening a little more than dignified. "An angel? Like...for God?"

Gabriel nods, his nervousness melting away and giving way for a small smile full of pride. "The very same. Listen, I can't tell you everything, but you ended up in Volterra for a reason. You need to go back."

"I know," she whispers. "I had a dream...I think they know where I am. I don't know how much longer I can stay here and keep everyone safe."

"Not long," he agrees. "Caius has been very...patient. But it's running out. You said you had a dream?"

"Yeah? Caius was in my room. He was...odd."

"How real did it feel?"

"As real as this conversation now."

"And have you had any others like that?"

Dean raised an eyebrow at him, wondering where exactly he was going with this. "Yes," she answered cautiously. "Just now...I saw...well..."

"What did you see, Dean?" Gabriel leaned forward, urgently, his eyes sparkling like she'd never seen before.

"I saw myself dancing...with Caius...and then...I died." She deliberately skipped over the part where they had kissed so passionately that she was sure her innocence had died. The blush returned, and Gabriel took it in, piecing it all together.

"So it's started, then. Listen, Dean, those dreams...pay attention to them. They aren't just tricks of the mind for when you're asleep."

"Are you saying they are real?"

"I'm saying don't do anything in them that you'll regret later."

"So what do I do? What are they? Can you please just give me some real answers?"

"I'm sorry," Gabriel shakes his head woefully. He wanted to tell her everything, but he feared what would happen if he broke the rules. He'd known this girl since she was a child. Had smelled the mark of Hecate on her the moment she was brought into the convent. He'd been attached to her ever since, and it was a wonder how he'd been able to alter so many memories. He'd not aged a day since coming down to Earth, but he felt like he were a brittle old man. "Is there anything else you haven't told me?"

"I've been seeing this woman. First I dreamed of her, then I saw her in the market. She's got long black hair, and wears these old medieval type dresses. She keeps offering me some black liquid. She said her name was Hecate. It might have just been my brain playing tricks on me, though."

The color drained from Gabriel's face, his grip on her forearms got the slightest bit tighter. "No, I believe she was there. Whatever it is, don't take it. There's a reason she's always depicted with snakes surrounding her."

"But what does she want with me?"

Gabriel wanted to turn and run now that things were much worse than he'd thought. "Back around the Titanomachy, Hecate was the mistress of the Weird Sisters...or Fate, as your books would name them. She was angry with them because they interacted with Macbeth, conjuring a prophecy without her knowledge or consent. Before that, they had messed around with two other lovers...it seems to be a favorite past time of theirs." He stops to look bitterly into nothing.

"Anyway," continues Gabriel. "Hecate could only do so much to punish Fate and so she took out her anger on the young couple. One would leave Greece in spirit, and while the other was supposed to die, he didn't. He was saved by a monster, and he walked away a broken man. She cursed the couple so that they would never live long, happy lives together."

His entire body was heating up, stinging, his voice straining due to the consequences of him pushing the boundaries.

"What does this have to do with me?" Asked Dean, still not understanding. He wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. Make her understand.

"Maybe she's trying to make right what she destroyed in the first place. Or maybe she's just playing more games. Either way, whatever she's offering you, it's nothing a mortal should have."

Dean went to ask more questions, or maybe to voice her skepticism, but she didn't get the chance. The library door opened and the dull thud of footfalls on the carpet came into the room.

"Sister Dejanna?" Mary Constance called, trying her best to sound as annoyed as everyone was used to. Dean cast a glance at Gabriel, who helped her stand and they embraced tightly. Dean let go first and whispered.

"Just wait a minute and she'll go away," said Dean. Gabriel offered her another small, sad smile that she returned and turned to peer around the shelf. Mary Constance spotted her instantly and marched over to where she was.

"Sister Dejanna, the children need to get to art class. You've been in here for ages, what are you doing?"

"Wait," Dejanna tried to stall her as she got close enough to round the bookshelf. Dean whipped around to tell Gabriel to hide, but he was already gone. She felt her stomach drop to her feet.

"Honestly, you came back here just to slack off?"

Dean ignored Mary Constance, walking over to where Gabriel had been standing and crouching down to pick up a single white and gold feather. Her lips tightened, her hand firmly clutching the feather to her chest as if that would make him come back.

"Dejanna!"

"I'm sorry," Dean stressed, turning around again and discreetly sliding the feather into one of her dresses deep pockets. "I'm going now."

"Good. And when you're done escorting the children to class, I want you in the Abbey to help prepare for tomorrow services. After that, you can go help Sister Mary Eustice with the evening meal preparations."