Who: Castiel & Hannah What: angelic bffs reunion! When: Monday, May 25th, just after Hannah's arrival (backdated) Where: medical -> outside Warnings: Nah. Status: logged, complete.
Castiel raced to the hospital.
He tried to, at least. He had a bit of a limp still from his encounter with the despair demon, but he still managed to move quickly enough that he was rudely shoving past people who were in his way. He didn't know this angel, she hadn't been a part of his garrison or loyal to him during the angelic civil war, but she was his sister. She knew him well, she cared about him, and Castiel was quick to seek out another of his kind.
He was out of breath when he got there, waving off the girl at administration when she tried to ask him where he was going. "Hannah?" If he'd had his grace, he would have felt her. He would have known her even if he didn't know her vessel. Now, he had to ask.
--
“Castiel,” Hannah said, with obvious relief. She was distressed by the fact that she was still in her vessel, that Heaven was inaccessible, and it was good to see a familiar face, even if he was… different. She could sense no grace inside him at all, and it distracted her for a moment from her other concerns. She tilted her head as she looked at him. “You are… human.”
She had known that it had happened. But she had never seen him like this.
--
Castiel looked at her closely, like he could still see her grace if he tried hard enough. He could recognize something, something otherworldly about her, enough to know that this was a vessel, but he found nothing familiar beyond that.
"Metatron took my grace," he said, taking several steps forward to finally approach her. "You knew that already."
--
“Yes,” Hannah said, “But you had another.”
It occurred to her only belatedly that information about the future might cause some kind of a disruption in his timeline. But the timelines were already a mess, and she had promised to tell him everything.
--
Castiel frowned. "What do you mean, I had another. I can't have 'another.'" He emphasized another by making quotes in the air with his fingers. "My grace is mine. There isn't another."
--
This was going to be a more difficult conversation than Hannah was expecting. It was made more difficult by the fact that she didn’t know the details of how Castiel had come by the grace he’d had when she had met him. “It was… not yours,” she said carefully.
Then, as she looked him over, she noticed something else. "You're injured."
--
It was not yours. The words were ominous. He'd heard stories of what happened when an angel stole another's grace. It wasn't just wrong beyond measure, but dangerous. He could understand the yearning for the power he once had, for even just angelic consciousness again and his connection to Heaven, but to take another angel's grace … it would kill him.
"There was a demon," he said flatly, answering her question though he really wasn't interested in it. "Sam didn't tell me about stolen grace."
--
Hannah didn’t know what to tell him in regards to what the Winchesters knew, or didn’t know. She knew that they were aware of the stolen grace, having been present when Metatron had revealed it to all the angels who were following Castiel. She had asked for proof, then, that he was truly on their side — not for further explanation. She didn’t know why the Winchesters hadn’t seen fit to tell him about it, but she did have a recollection of Castiel saying that humans lied. Apparently that was true.
He hadn’t asked her any other questions, and she was distracted by his injury, and by the mention of a demon. Instead of offering more information, she reached out, her hand pausing partway to his forehead. “May I?”
--
Castiel frowned, leaning back ever-so-slightly. There was no reason to; he knew what she intended to do. The problem was that he didn't know her. She talked to him like a friend, she seemed gentle, but he honestly didn't know whether she was truly trustworthy or if she was taking advantage of his lack of knowledge to get close to him and kill him while she had the chance.
So there was a moment of hesitation, of searching her expression, before he finally nodded. "Yes."
--
Hannah waited, patiently, for an answer. He didn’t know her yet, but she knew him, and she knew how touchy he could be about his health. So when he finally gave her permission, she touched her fingertips to his forehead, and let the power of her grace flow into him momentarily, healing the rest of his wound.
In the process, she also noticed that it was the only injury he had and that, in fact, his vessel was healthy otherwise. Although it made her sad not to be able to sense him, she was glad to know that he was not dying. Not so quickly, at least — he was mortal now, which meant his time would run out eventually.
Lowering her hand, she offered him a smile. “How does that feel?”
--
Castiel pressed a hand to his shoulder, and then to his thigh. "It feels … good," he said, after a moment of touching and pressing down just to make certain. "Thank you, Hannah."
He didn't smile, but his expression warmed. He didn't like being without information, and now Sam and Hannah both had knowledge that he didn't — but she was friendly, at least, and that was what he needed right now. "Do you know where you're staying? Have you been cleared to leave?"
--
It was not the first time Hannah had healed him, but it felt like she’d accomplished something more, this time. She’d restored him to genuine health, not just a semblance of it. She nodded to him in acknowledgement of his thanks, though it wasn’t necessary.
“I was given a room number,” she said. “I don’t need one, but… I have grown accustomed to hotel rooms.” She reached into her pocket for the small piece of electronic equipment that she had no idea how to use. “They also gave me this.”
--
"You'll want a space that's yours," Castiel said, taking the device from Hannah to switch the screen on. "Even if you don't sleep, you'll want a place you can go that's your own. Did they tell you who you're living with? I've met some people, I may know them."
--
“I don’t know,” Hannah said honestly. She watched what Castiel was doing, and finally had some insight into what the device was meant to do. It was not unlike the computers she’d used before. She could not claim to have any mastery over them, but at least it was not an entirely unfamiliar concept.
But they were getting off the subject. “Castiel. You said you wanted to know everything.” She looked around, and then up, as if she could see through the bunker’s walls to the wilderness outside. It wasn’t strictly true, but she could sense that it was there. “Perhaps we should take a walk.”
--
Castiel had been about to show her how to use the phone, but it could wait. He turned it over in his hands before passing it back to her. "I do," he said gruffly. It was so easy sometimes to slip back into the role of commander, to become some kind of authority figure. He felt like it with Hannah, even though he didn't know her. She spoke to him like he was a superior in some way, and it gave Castiel a pang of worry. What else had he done in this time? What else had he damaged? He'd already thrown the other angels out of Heaven and given Metatron his way, already released the leviathans from Purgatory, already killed thousands in the civil war.
Power was not something he could handle. He could only hope that he was imagining this tone from Hannah now.
"Come with me. We'll go out," he said. With a brief nod, he turned to walk out of the hospital and expected her to follow.
--
In point of fact, Hannah no longer considered Castiel her leader. Heaven had no leader, not anymore. But it was how they had related to each other for the majority of their friendship, and habits died hard, especially for an angel accustomed to following orders. There was also the fact that although Hannah was doing much of the work to keep Heaven running smoothly, she was pointedly not taking a position of power, and so often found herself having to make an effort to defer to others in order to let them have their say and make their own choice.
It was better that way, or at least she very much hoped that it would be.
She followed him quietly for a while, until she thought they would not be overheard by mortal ears, though they were not yet outside. Then she made an attempt at beginning the conversation. “You remember the angels falling from Heaven,” she said, and it half-sounded like a question. “That was when Metatron took your grace.”
--
Castiel walked beside her, leading her toward the main gates but not rushing to get there. He was just enjoying the fact that he could now walk without pain. "Yes," he said. "And then I lived on Earth for several months. That's the last thing I remember."
--
Hannah didn’t have much to tell him about that part. It didn’t matter, anyway, since he’d lived it. Instead, she said, “I fell, along with the others. It was… cold, and lonely. And then we felt something… something that felt like home. We followed it, and found… Gadreel.”
She paused, thinking of her fallen brother, who had sacrificed his life to free Castiel and save them all from Metatron. She had deeply misjudged him, and he had also misjudged Metatron, but then — she had done the same. She could not fault him for that. “He told us that we could return home if we accepted Metatron as God. My friends and I fought back, and they were slaughtered. I survived. And that was when… you found me.”
--
Dean had told him about Gadreel possessing Sam, but Castiel knew little about this. That wasn't unexpected; he knew the Winchester brothers, knew that they were so wrapped up in each other that they didn't pay attention to the affairs of angels. Their actions shaped the fate of the universe but they paid little care for the details that didn't involve them. Neither one of them could comprehend any of the chaos in Heaven.
"Gadreel slaughtered your friends? I…" Gadreel was such an ancient name that it was hard to say it without revulsion. He'd been in prison for thousands of years, for letting sin into the Garden, for ruining everything. "I'm sorry. I really am."
---
“Yes,” Hannah said, and there was a sadness in her voice, but it was as much for Gadreel as it was for her fallen friends. “He was following Metatron’s orders.”
She glanced over at him when he apologized, and nodded, accepting it. Their brothers and sisters would not be forgotten, but they had made things right. Castiel had been a part of that. It was not his fault, although it did not occur to her that he might need to hear her say that. “Eventually, you chose to lead us against Metatron. I know you didn’t want to, but it nearly worked. Then he told us about your stolen grace. And… Dean Winchester murdered one of our own.” She came to a brief halt just inside the doors, and then lifted one hand to open them. “We went back to Heaven, without you. To Metatron. It was a mistake, but… it was home. We had orders again.”
Then she paused again, because she had opened the door and stepped outside. She lifted up her face to the sunlight overhead, her head turning as she examined the wilderness around them, her heightened senses taking in much more than his would. Finally, she finished, almost as if she’d never stopped talking, “Until you and Gadreel came back to Heaven, and exposed him for what he really was.”
--
Castiel was late to come out, falling behind so he could briefly speak with the guard at the door (a tall blonde woman in a Princess Leia t-shirt and shorts), signing his name along with Hannah's and quietly explaining that she was new and they were taking a walk.
He came back to her side, trying to process all of this. "And what of Heaven now?" he asked. "Is Metatron defeated? Is Heaven safe?"
Part of him wished that they could speak their native language, that instead of resorting to English he could listen to Enochian spoken the way it was meant to be. He also knew that while he might have been able to endure it better than a true human could, it would be more painful than anything else.
--
“Yes,” Hannah said. She was glad to be able to tell him that. “Metatron is behind bars. Heaven has no leader, everything is decided by committee. Every angel has a say.” She looked over at him. “Before I came here, you were helping me look for the angels that were still on Earth. You were also looking for Dean Winchester. I was going to stay and help you, but…”
She trailed off. “I met my vessel’s husband. I wanted to return her to him and return to Heaven, myself. Now we are here, and she is afraid, and I cannot reach Heaven. I feel that I should stay with her and protect her, until I can return her home safely. Is that… wrong?”
It was a question she was asking herself as much as Castiel. He had not had the answers she’d wanted, when she’d asked him about this, and she did not know what his opinion was now. His opinion did matter to her, whether she agreed with it or not. Ultimately, she would make the decision for herself.
--
Castiel squinted at her thoughtfully. He'd never heard an angel say anything like that. Angels often wanted to leave their vessels and return to Heaven because it was home, but not because it had something to do with caring about the human. "I…"
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking up at the sky like answers would be found there. "No. I don't think that's wrong. You are her keeper, Hannah, for the time being. There's nowhere to go, unless you were to possess someone else. You should stay with her until we go home, until you can give her back to her family."
He felt a pang of guilt. Jimmy was dead and this body really belonged to no one but Castiel, but he knew that he hadn't taken care of Jimmy the way that he should have. He knew that he'd neglected the man who'd given up his body to host an angel, who'd turned his back on his family out of faith.
--
It was true that there really was no other option, besides to take another vessel, unless she wanted to be a disembodied presence that was unable to help anyone or do anything of any real consequence. Hannah wanted to help. She was still a soldier, accustomed to some kind of action, some kind of job, whether it was simply watching over the souls in Heaven or bringing lost angels back to the fold.
She looked up to the sky, too. “It is strange. How we came here, and how I cannot seem to find my way back.”
She had tried, of course. Multiple times, before sending out any message on the network. She had been over this whole Earth more than once, tried to find some way back into Heaven or her own dimension — but if there was such a way, it was hidden from her. For now.
--
"I'd thought another angel might be able to find a way," Castiel said. "I'm … powerless. There's nothing I can do. But if you can't find a way home …"
He knew there were powerful people here, but he didn't know what they were. He was far more likely to trust another angel and her capabilities than anyone else.
--
Hannah shook her head. “If there is a way, it is very well hidden. But I will keep looking.”
--
"So far, no one's found anything. We're trapped here, away from our own realities. The rules of how things work are different here," Castiel said. After a moment of hesitation, he reached out and touched her shoulder. "It's all right if you don't find a way."
--
Hannah felt the hand on her shoulder, and looked over at him. She was surprised by his next statement, and tilted her head, examining him curiously. “Do you… wish to stay here, Castiel?”
--
Castiel was taken aback by the question. He hadn't considered it. Staying was just the way things had to be, not something he wanted or didn't want. He knew that things happened in his future, horrible things, but it was always assumed that they'd eventually return. He didn't even think about what he'd do if he had a choice.
"The people here are good people," he said after a moment. "I can help them, without shedding blood, without war. I look after the animals, I make sure they have eggs and milk in the kitchens. It's quiet. No one expects anything from me, or looks to me as a leader. Dean has the Mark of Cain, but the Winchesters are as safe as they can be. Sam's found someone he cares for."
He smiled to himself, looking down at his shoes. "I could stay."
--
It came as no surprise to Hannah that his reasoning included the Winchesters. She had been harboring a suspicion that, although he seemed motivated to help her bring all the other angels back to Heaven, he would eventually end up staying away. He had proven that he would choose Dean Winchester over the interests of Heaven, and yet — she found that she could not hold it against him. She could not have said why, not in human words, at least. Nor would she try to use words to convince him otherwise.
She was disappointed, though. Not in him, but simply because she would have liked him to return to Heaven with her. But as long as he was alive, she could still have hope that he would, someday. Once the Winchesters were gone, for they were mortal and would not last as long as he would. Or, perhaps, he would eventually become one of the human souls they cared for, himself.
That was a less welcome thought, but a possibility, nonetheless. She gave a nod that indicated her understanding, though whether he saw it, she didn’t know. Then she looked away herself, back out at the trees.
“I will return,” she said. “When I can.” She had to do that, for her vessel if not for her. “But in the meantime it seems I will be working with you again. They have assigned me to work in their farm, and with their animals.”
--
Castiel's expression brightened. "You'll like it," he said. "Caring for God's creatures, getting to really know them. Making sure they're safe, that they provide for us, that they multiply." He was fond of the animals. He'd given them names, had a couple that he'd grown very fond of. He could no longer hear them, could no longer sense their needs, but he had to develop an intuition like humans did. He could understand now why humans liked to keep animals as companions.
"You'll be useful here, Hannah. I promise you."
--
Hannah was quiet for a long moment. Not very long ago, being useful — to Castiel, to humanity — would have seemed enough of a purpose for her. Now it seemed… unsatisfactory. There was no amount of usefulness she could serve on Earth that could make up for the fact that she had stolen her vessel away from her life. She had felt some of her vessel’s emotions, but nothing so strong as the love she had for her husband. She could feel it still, along with the heartache of being apart from him. It was not going to go away, not until Caroline was back in her own world, with the man she loved.
But that was not possible, not yet. If she left Caroline alone, she could not ensure that it would happen.
“Yes,” she said, her voice soft, almost sad. “I will be useful.”
--
"You're not happy." Castiel came around to face her, quietly looking her over. He didn't know her, but he knew just from spending a few minutes with her that she was someone to trust. Someone safe. He couldn't comfort her with words right now, couldn't say anything that would make this better.
He held his arms out to her. "You need a hug."
--
“My vessel is unhappy,” Hannah corrected him. The emotions were not hers, and never had been. “And I am unhappy for her.”
She examined the arms he was holding out, trying to determine what they were intended for. Then, following her vessel’s instinct rather than her own, she stepped into the hug, seeking the comfort of it. There was a moment of awkwardness in which she didn’t know what to do with her arms and tried to fit them in between their human bodies, and then followed his example and wrapped them around his waist. “Thank you, Castiel.”
--
Castiel pulled her in tight, squeezing her against his body and giving her a hard pat on the back. He hugged the way Sam and Dean taught him to, without any idea that it was probably good to be a little gentler with Hannah. It took him a while to understand what this was for, but he'd found a strange kind of comfort in being held by someone. It was that connection that he didn't have with other angels, that feeling of support, of not being alone in the universe.
"I'm here for you, Hannah." He almost lifted her up off of her feet. "You need to know that."
--
Hannah made a surprised sound — almost an oof — when she was nearly lifted into the air. She had not been expecting the tightness or exuberance in the hug, but it did not make her feel unsafe enough to try to escape. It was almost amusing, in truth. And it did make her feel better.
When he let her go, she straightened her clothes and smiled at him. “I know that,” she said. “And I am here for you, Castiel.”
That would always be true, whether she was on Earth or not. Despite his mistakes and the choices that she simply did not agree with, she cared about him, and trusted him. He was her brother, and her friend.
--
Castiel slowly pulled back, holding her at arm's length. He looked at her with wonder and confusion, nearly smiling but not quite getting there. "Why?" he asked. "After everything I've done, after all of the damage I've caused in Heaven … why?"
--
Hannah considered that, tilting her head to consider him. “Because,” she said finally. “You are my friend.”
--
Castiel hesitated. Something warm stirred in him, complicated feelings of fondness that he couldn't quite place — as if he knew her, but he didn't, as if it mattered what she thought, because it did. He squeezed her shoulders before smiling faintly. "And you'll be mine, Hannah."