Not While I'm Around

"Demons will charm you with a smile
For a while
But in time
Nothing can harm you,
Not while I'm around."
-Stephen Sondheim, "Not While I'm Around," from Sweeney Todd

As Castiel shrugged off his ubiquitous trenchcoat, Hannah examined the contents of their host's refrigerator curiously, searching for the "three-bean surprise" she had offered them. Neither of them truly needed to eat, of course, but Kim might think them rude if they refused. Besides, she hoped, perhaps irrationally and a little desperately, that it might do Castiel some good. His borrowed (stolen) grace was rapidly failing, leaving him in far worse shape than he'd ever admit. And truth be told, she was at a loss for how to help him.

Ah, this had to be it. "I understand the 'three beans,'" she muttered to herself, taking the bowl from its shelf and studying it, "but… what's the 'surprise'?"

Hannah turned to take it in to Castiel, still attempting to identify the ingredients as she walked—but she halted in her tracks when she discovered he had already fallen asleep.

That was worrisome. Under normal circumstances, angels didn't sleep at all. That he had passed out so suddenly—not to mention that it was his dozing off while driving that had gotten them here in the first place—was an indication that he was fading even faster than she'd feared.

Castiel was dying. And if he didn't soon recover his grace, his own grace, then he didn't have much time left.

That thought set off a swirl of physical sensations that made Hannah's head spin. Her heart pounded, her stomach felt weirdly hollow, and her breath so wanted to come in short, shallow gasps that she had to fight to control it. Hot tears pricked at her eyes, and her hands trembled.

Fear, said Caroline gently, in the back of her mind. That's my body reacting to your fear, Hannah.

Hannah was a little startled to hear from her. The woman who had agreed to be her vessel rarely made direct contact like that, preferring to let her angelic guest do as she would without distraction. But now Hannah was glad for her input. I'm worried about him, she admitted.

Worried? You're terrified! Caroline shot back. Look, I get that this whole "having emotions" thing is a little new for you, so let me clue you in. That's your friend there, he's dying, and there's nothing you can do about it. And that scares the hell out of you.

My… friend. Hannah swallowed hard. Yes, I suppose he is. And it does.

There was a thoughtful pause, then Caroline ventured, You really do care about him, don't you?

Hannah regarded Castiel for a long moment before answering. He looked… smaller. Not that his vessel was particularly tall or broad to begin with, but something about him seemed somehow diminished. Lying half curled on his side, his head pillowed on his arms and a folded-up blanket, he didn't look like the soldier, the warrior, the leader she knew him to be. He didn't look like the rebel who had twice harrowed Hell. There was no visible trace of the pride-marred angel who had raided Purgatory for the sake of Heaven and Earth, nor of the deep, angry scars left by that act's disastrous consequences. He just looked like a man, and a young one at that, resting uneasily with his brow furrowed in what might have been pain or consternation. Perhaps both.

She suddenly felt as though she'd been struck on the chest, and her breath caught in her throat.

That's called heartbreak, Hannah, Caroline whispered. And I guess I have my answer.

Rather than reply, Hannah set down the bowl she now realized she was still holding, then picked up Castiel's coat from where he'd thrown it over the back of the couch and spread it over him. There. He looked more like himself now, though still with an almost childlike vulnerability about him that left Hannah vaguely unsettled. It felt wrong to see him like this, an intimacy he wouldn't want. And yet she felt it was her responsibility to protect him for as long as she could.

Responsibility? snorted Caroline. Come on, Hannah. We both know you're not doing this out of some overinflated sense of duty.

Of course it's my duty. Heaven needs him.

You need him.

That brought Hannah up short. She was about to argue, to protest that she didn't know what the human was talking about… but the truth was, she did. She had come to care about Castiel, and as more than just the leader the angels needed. It was why she'd stayed with him for this probably hopeless mission to save one human—no, one demon. She tried to imagine voluntarily parting ways with him, and found she simply couldn't. She deliberately considered the too-real possibility that he might die, and her mind shied away from the thought as if burned. It evoked a visceral, emotional response in her that had nothing to do with duty and everything to do with the unfamiliar, uncomfortable, but not altogether unpleasant feelings surging through her.

Caroline chuckled gently, without a trace of mockery. Yup, thought so.

And just how much of… this… is me, and how much of it is your human hormones? Hannah demanded, feeling suddenly and inexplicably defensive. You'd hardly be the first woman to find his vessel attractive!

In response, Caroline only laughed harder. I don't doubt it, honey, but don't forget, I have a husband I'm going back to when you're done with me.

Hannah had indeed forgotten. Of course. I'm sorry. This must be very strange for you, too.

What, having to explain to the angel in my head that she's got a crush on the angel in some other guy's head? No, not strange at all.

…I see, Hannah replied, though she didn't actually. Her grasp of human colloquialisms was even worse than Castiel's; she had no idea what "a crush" meant. It was several long seconds before she recognized the tone of Caroline's voice. Ah. That was sarcasm?

About this not being weird? You bet your winged and feathered ass it was. About your feelings for Castiel? Not so much. There was a thoughtful pause. You're embarrassed. And that's making you angry.

Be quiet, Hannah snapped. And though she didn't usually do it, she let a surge of grace touch Caroline's mind and forced her to sleep.

She spent the remainder of the suddenly very quiet night watching over Castiel. He slept lightly, fitfully, what little grace remained in him guttering like a nearly-spent candle. It was full daylight before he woke, and even then only when Kim's young daughter wandered in and turned on the television, filling the room with sudden noise. Kim came back inside at about the same time.

Groggily, Castiel sat up, staring bleary-eyed at the child as he struggled to remember where he was and how he'd gotten here. For her part, the little girl seemed to trust him instinctively, greeting him with cheerful, excited chatter while he gathered his wits. Hannah simply stood next to Kim and watched them interact, a soft warmth spreading through her as she did so and bringing a smile to her lips.

At the moment of Creation, when their Father had brought life to this world, the entire Host of angels had been astonished at its beauty. They had gathered in great choirs before the Throne to sing His praises for bringing such marvelous creatures into being. Castiel had been as captivated as the rest, but he in particular had been utterly enraptured by the young. Unlike the angels, who remained unchanged throughout their existence, these mortal creatures emerged small and helpless, then spent their lives learning, growing, transforming, only achieving full power with time. That process had fascinated Castiel.

And then the Father had unveiled His great masterpiece: humankind. Mortal like the animals but intelligent like the angels, they were bestowed also with the gift of free will in a grand experiment that had sent shockwaves throughout the Heavenly Host. The Father had then ordered the angels to love the humans, and for most, it was a commandment easily obeyed. But once again, Castiel had been particularly taken with the children. He could often be heard rhapsodizing about them to any who would listen, about their purity and their innocence, their energy and their potential. It had become a favorite pastime of his to come down to Earth and watch, invisible, as human children played. It seemed almost to be his form of meditation. He loved them, always had. And even now, that love shone through his weariness and pain as he graced the girl with a rare broad smile. He never smiled at anyone like that. Something about it made Hannah weak in the knees.

Kim saw it, too, it seemed. "Great guy you have there," she commented to Hannah with a conspiratorial grin.

It took Hannah a moment to process the implications of her words. "Oh… we're not… that," she stuttered, perhaps a little too quickly. But it was at that moment that she finally realized… she truly wished they were.

And the sparkle in Kim's eyes suggested she knew it, too. "Too bad," she said, though it sounded more like, Well, why not?

So as they left to continue their journey to Beulah, North Dakota to meet up with Sam Winchester, it was perhaps not strictly with the purest of intentions that Hannah suggested to Castiel that she should drive the rest of the way. She would get them there, yes, but she would be making a stop along the way. Castiel wouldn't like it. What she was about to do practically amounted to treason. But she was absolutely determined that she would not lose him, and her only hope of saving him was to get his grace back.

Which meant there was only one person who could help her.

It was a long shot, to be sure. There was no telling if any of Castiel's grace even still remained, after Metatron had used it to seal off Heaven. But that hope was all she had, and Hannah seized it with grim determination.

She steadfastly refused to dwell on how easy it was to deceive him. Despite everything he'd suffered, Castiel still had a trusting nature, an almost childish naïveté that had been his downfall more than once. Hannah was taking full advantage of that now. She could only hope, when it was done and he was restored to his full power, that he would understand and forgive. That he wouldn't see her as just someone else who would trick him, manipulate him, use him for their own ends. It had happened to him all too often of late.

No, she told herself firmly, she was doing this for him. She repeated that to herself like a mantra, and as soon as he'd fallen asleep again, she steered the car toward the playground that housed the portal to Heaven.

Hannah recognized the angel who guarded it, sitting on a nearby bench. Closing the car door gently so as not to wake Castiel, she greeted her as she approached. "Ananiah."

"Hannah." Ananiah was unsmiling. "What brings you upstairs?"

Hannah couldn't keep from glancing guiltily back at the car, and without standing, Ananiah leaned around her to peer inside. The sentry blinked in surprise. "Is that… what is he doing here?" she demanded.

"He doesn't know we're here at all, much less why," Hannah said evasively. "I have business to attend to in Heaven." She gave Ananiah a pointed look. "I'll be back shortly. Don't wake him."

Ananiah snorted and folded her arms, fingering her hidden blade. "I could make sure he never wakes up."

The suggestion set off a bright, hot flare of anger behind Hannah's eyes, and she grabbed a fistful of the other angel's bubblegum-pink sweater and yanked her to her feet. "Castiel is under my protection," she hissed in her face. "If any harm comes to him while I'm gone, you will be held responsible." She released Ananiah with a shove, and the sentry fell back onto the bench, somewhat cowed. Hannah then spun on her heel and marched straight for the portal.

But before she ascended, she spared another glance back at Castiel. She could only hope she was doing the right thing.