AU twoshot– wooo!

She'd always been dependable. Sturdy, trust-worthy, reliable. You could always count on her to find the problem and fix it. Even when they'd found out she was a witch, she'd fixed it by rambling on about actual 'born-with-magic' witches and the fake 'sell-my-soul-for-powers' witches. She would love hunting them and showing them what 'real fucking magic was,' according to a rather smug Dean, although she would repeat that she didn't like killing things, and that it was only in self-defense.

She'd always been strong. He'd known her since they were both seventeen, and had always known the Post-War Hermione. The half-smirk, and the arched eyebrow, the look in her eyes that asked 'really?' in an amused way, the way she'd hum a song he somewhat knew when she'd just got done arguing with Dean and gotten her way, the strong Hermione who never cared – but who really did, especially when it came to him and Dean. That's why he couldn't say goodbye to her when he left – she'd use the big doe eyes on him and would make him stay without trying. He liked how she cared. He liked how she was practically a mother to Dean, although neither noticed. He liked how she would worry over the both of them after they'd gotten beaten up. He liked how she would lean against him in the backseat of the car and fall asleep.

She'd always been that soldier, the one who could handle anything and everything thrown at her. The one who had a plan of attack, and if not would make one up quickly and have it work. She'd always have a spell or a hex or a curse to win. But she didn't need that with him. She would just smile a certain way and he'd do whatever she asked. He wondered if she knew it.

It'd taken months for him to stop missing her after he left and went to college. He would always find himself with his phone in his hand, staring at her number. Wanting to hear her fix whatever problem he had. Just wanting to hear her talk and joke with him and hear the smile in her voice. Maybe after those months, he'd forgotten what it was like to be around her, and maybe that's how he started to date. He nearly had a heart attack when she sheepishly walked in from the back door after Dean and apologized about his neighbor's swing set, that she would fix it on the way out. He remembered her, and everything that came with her, and when Jessica walked in, he saw Hermione's upper lip twitch in annoyance and her eyes flick over to Dean before they rolled when he began to flirt with his brother's girlfriend. She knew when some things would happen.

She'd always been able to fix them and herself. When Castiel had first shown up, she was the easiest to believe him when he said he was an angel. When Dean sat her down and asked why, she stated that there must have been someone watching out for her during the War, or else she wouldn't have survived, and that angels did make some sense. Castiel, however, had been the most wary of her, and he referred to her as 'the witch' many times, which made Hermione sigh and roll her eyes and shake her head a little. After she'd tried frantically to revive a man who'd drowned and even used a little magic, Castiel had stood in front of her as she dripped all over the hood of the Impala (with many complaints from Dean after the police and paramedics and whatever took statements from her and checked her over) and thanked her. She'd looked at him curiously and he elaborated, stating that the man would go on to become a life coach or something because of their encounter. He referred to her by name from then on.

She'd always appeared so strong, so indestructible, that anything as simple as a car crash being able to take her down was insane.

He'd been at a bar with Dean, trying half-heartedly to tell his brother again that he didn't 'lurve' her, as she'd stated that since Christmas was a few weeks away she would need time to get them something and that it was the only opportunity, when Castiel had appeared and scared Dean off of his barstool. The angel looked worried, and even slightly guilty, before informing the two that Hermione had just been hit.

The cab driver was fine, miraculously, although they both suspected that it had something to do with her. Apparently the other driver had been drunk and looking for his phone on the floorboards and hadn't seen the cab. He, too, was fine, although with more cuts and scrapes on him than the cab driver, even though the cab was nearly squished in.

She looked so small. He knew she was short – practically everyone was compared to him – but she just looked weak and sad. There were so many tubes and wires that he didn't know if he should even been in the same room for fear of stepping on them. She hadn't woken up, and the paramedics had thought she was dead at first. When the two asked about it, Castiel had pursed his lips and said nothing.

It was three days away from Christmas. They'd been there every single day, from the time visiting hours began and ended. The nurses knew them by name now. "Hey Sam, how're you? Need a trim yet? Dean, stop that, that's not free food, that's for the patients. Nah, hasn't woken up yet. Doc's been by already, looked her over, nothing new to report. Check in on you boys in a few." "Sorry boys, the hours are up. Wish I could let you, but then again I also wish she'd get better. We'll call if anything happens. Bye boys."

Late at night, in the motel room when Dean was asleep, he'd call her cell phone so he could hear her voicemail.

"Can't come to the phone at the mo', please leave a message and I'll call you right back! Bye!" She'd been swatting them both away when she'd made the message, grinning widely back at Sam as she tried to end it before he could get a word in. He'd been the first to call her on her phone and hear it, as she was afraid Dean had cursed at the end of it. She'd been close enough that he could smell her shampoo.

"Hey, Hermione. It's Sam. I know you probably have about fifteen messages from me by now. You're probably bound to get more. I'm still really worried about you. This is still the only way you can talk to me right now. We really need you to get better, okay? Please?" It had cut off and the robotic voice had said that if he wanted to change it, he could – but then he cut it off and set his phone on the nightstand and stared at it until five-forty five, when they got up and went to the hospital.

Her doctor was older, around his forties. He had a wife and three kids, another on the way. They just called him Frank, as his last name was ridiculously long and complicated. He would slowly try to explain to them what was going on with her body in the beginning, but after a while he would sigh and state that nothing had changed.

Dean was trying very hard to stay optimistic for Sam, no matter how hard the pessimism was trying to weasel its way in. Dean often speculated that maybe her magic was trying to heal her from the inside out. Sam had stated that if that was the case, then she would already be better. He'd hum before saying that maybe her magic had lost its sense of direction and needed a road map. Sam would give a small smile.

The day before Christmas, Dean had awkwardly stood in front of the door of their motel room as Sam grabbed his jacket and phone ("Hey, Hermione, it's Sam. It's Christmas Eve, technically, at like two in the morning. We already got you something before you got us something. I'll tell you what it is the day after Christmas. You know, we only celebrate it with you. Please get better.") and looked at his older brother funny.

"I got a call from Bobby," Dean announced.

"What'd he say?" Sam asked.

"Asked how Hermione's doing. Made sure we were still functioning correctly without her. Told me he had a vampire problem and asked if I wanted to help him."

"But we can't leave Hermione," Sam pointed out. "What if she wakes up and sees we're not there? Or something happens and we're not there?"

"That's why I was wondering if you wanted to stay with her while I go help Bobby," Dean said with a wince, "If you want me to stay, I'll call him back."

Sam knew how much Dean hated letting other things get away. So he gave a half smile and shook his head, "Nah, you go. Call me when you get there. Tell Bobby I said 'hi.' If Hermione wakes up before you get back, we'll meet you down there."

"Do you want a lift to the hospital?" he asked. Sam had nodded.

"Hey Sam," a nurse, Tammy, had smiled before she frowned and tilted her head at him, "Where's your brother?" She pursed her lips, "Is he stealing food again?"

"No," he said, "Had to go check on our uncle."

"Oh," she nodded before smiling to him, "Doc's been in. Nothing new. But who knows – maybe you'll get a Christmas miracle." Sam had said something that sounded like he agreed before walking into Hermione's room, sitting in his usual chair and sighing. He only glanced up when Castiel appeared in Dean's chair, staring intently at Hermione's face. He looked about as exhausted as Sam felt. Sam wondered if angels ever slept, and if not then Castiel should sincerely consider it.

"I never understood why you and Dean were so fond of her," he started, "I thought she was a witch misguiding you."

"Sometimes she is," Sam said fondly with a small smile. "Sometimes we're misguiding her."

"I thought witches didn't care about others' lives," Castiel continued, "I thought she hunted with you because she enjoyed it."

"She hates it," Sam stated, and Castiel absently nodded.

"She saved Daniel Fischer's life – Daniel Fischer saved Tanya Jones's, Tanya Jones saved Reese McGregor's, Reese McGregor introduced Tanya to her brother, Michael, Tanya Jones became Tanya McGregor, and they are now expecting their first child. She began a circle of life."

"And it moves us all," Sam hummed, grinning a little when Castiel looked at him curiously. "I'll explain it later."

"She has saved many more lives before," Castiel said, looking slightly up at the ceiling tiles with a small frown, "She saved an entire generation from fear and darkness. She continues to save more with you and Dean."

"Cas," Sam said, making him look innocently over at him, "Do you have a point?"

"A point?" he echoed curiously.

"A reason for telling me all of this?"

He pursed his lips and stared at Hermione once again before finally stating, "I was wrong about her. She is good."

"She's brilliant," Sam sighed. He knew that there was more than just Castiel finally stating what everyone already knew.

"She deserves to live," he said after a moment, "There is talk in Heaven about her leaving Earth, Sam. Her guardian is trying to find which path for her to take."

Sam paled and stared at him, although he wouldn't look up from Hermione. "But…she…."

"They brought her back to Earth just after the crash," he said as he pursed his lips, looking as though he was thinking very hard.

"She…she died?" Sam asked lamely.

"They are wondering if it is right," Castiel continued, "If she could save more lives or if she is done. If she could make more circles of life. If she could help…."

"Of course she could," Sam insisted, "She's Hermione, she can fix anything."

"Forgive me for asking, but if she can fix anything…why is she in a hospital?" Castiel asked, still with the curious look, but Sam frowned back. He blinked at him innocently, "Have I upset you with asking?"

"Look, you go back to Heaven and tell her guardian angel that she can help so many people, that she can save people like Daniel Fischer, that she is strong enough to take on the world, and that probably the only reason Dean and I are alive today is because of her. She…" Sam deflated and looked over at her, "She's so important. She's important to me, Cas."

Castiel stared thoughtfully at him before nodding and slowly standing, looking down at Hermione, "I will inform them. In any case, it will be decided tomorrow." And with that, Castiel was gone.

Sam stared very intently at Hermione after that. The idea that this would be the last time he would see her breathing unnerved him. The last time he heard her laugh had been when Dean had made a suggestive comment about the two of them, and she'd leaned on Sam for support as Dean pouted, because Sam was laughing too. The last time he saw her smile at him would be when they dropped her off at the shopping center. She'd turned back, smiled at him, and blew a kiss before turning it into a wave. The last time she hugged him was after a hunt and they'd gotten split up, and she'd found Dean but not him and had been extremely worried.

She couldn't leave him. When he came back, he swore he wouldn't leave her or Dean again. It would always be the three of them, forever, no matter who stood in their way. It would always be Hermione and Dean arguing over something. It would always be Hermione and Sam sharing inside jokes with each other. It would always be Hermione and the Winchesters, being a family. A weird, dysfunctional one that hunted demons and stuff, but still a family. And, who knows, maybe one day her last name might've changed. It wouldn't be Granger and the Winchesters anymore. It would just be the Winchesters.

Of course, he wasn't in love with her, he scoffed at himself. No, he just lied about it every single day. Even now, he was tired of pretending that he wasn't. It was hard keeping up that act anyway, and it's not as if he was any good at it.

"Sam?" the night shift nurse, Sarah, stood in the doorway, "Visiting hours are up. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," he said, surprised at how fast the time had gone by. He stood and looked down at Hermione before smoothing her hair back from her forehead and pecking her head. He smiled slightly at Sarah as he passed before walking out. He walked back to the motel and lay in bed. When Dean called, he told about Castiel and the whole situation. Dean cursed and cursed and then cursed some more before asking if he was alright and needed him down there. Sam had sighed and said no before they hung up and he stared at the ceiling. After a few moments, he turned back to his phone and bit the inside of his cheek before scrolling through and hitting the button, holding it to his ear as it rang once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five.

"Can't come to the phone at the mo', please leave a message and I'll call you right back! Bye!"

"Hey. It's me," Sam said, trying to get control of his voice. "Castiel told me your guardian angel might…uh, he might take you off of Earth duty. And…I don't want you to leave, Hermione. You're so very important to me, and I have never, not once, gotten over you. I have never gotten over you, and we've never dated! And to think that you might leave, and never know, and just leave me and Dean, it just…it sucks," he stated lamely before sighing and hitting his head against the headboard of his bed, staring at the ceiling once more. "Just…please let her be alright. Please. I'm begging you." The robotic voice cut him off and he hung up, tossing his phone over onto Dean's bed and settling the pillow over his face, letting it sit there throughout the night until five-forty five.

He got up, took a shower, and ate, and talked to Dean before walking to the hospital. He said hello to Tammy and Dr. Frank before taking his seat, tracing over the lines in Hermione's hand and looking to see how small hers were compared to his. Someone in the staff had braided her hair back, as it had probably gotten in their way when they were working on her, and Sam undid the band and played with her hair. He'd always loved her hair, as it was so wonderfully wild. Kind of like her.

The day had gone by, and rather than extend the visiting hours like he expected, they cut them short, making him looking up pleadingly at Sarah. Sarah had winced, faltered and sighed before stating that he had twenty minutes and that he did not talk to her at all. When Sam had smiled at her, she had smiled back and patted him on the head before leaving.

He was waiting for it to happen. For the heart monitor to falter and flat line. Waiting for her to leave him, because he had never gotten so lucky in his lifetime. So he held her hand and waited and talked to her, telling her how much he liked her and how badly he'd miss her if she left, and how upset Dean would be even though he would try to be tough and macho. How Castiel had said that he was wrong about her and that was probably the first time he had ever admitted he was wrong about anything. How very strong she was and how very glad he was to have gotten to know her as well as he did. How incredibly proud of her he was.

Five minutes until he had to leave, he stopped talking and just watched her. She looked like she was dreaming about something, and whatever it was he hoped it was good. And then her eyelids fluttered and her eyebrows moved and she frowned a little and gripped his hand and all Sam could do was watch her. She opened her eyes and winced at him, gripping his hand tighter and looking at him fearfully.

"Sam?" she croaked, making him beam before jumping to his feet and moving her hair back.

"Hermione!" he grinned before pecking her forehead, temple, cheek, anywhere he could get. "You're awake, you're alright!"

She gave a small grin, "You and I have very different definitions of 'alright.' Merlin, I feel like I got ran over by a truck. Oh wait."

He snorted back at her before turning and moving to the door, "Sarah, Sarah!"

"Sam?" she asked worriedly, but saw his grin and moved around the nurses' station.

"She woke up," he beamed, making her blink before rushing into Hermione's room and patting her hand as she took out a few tubes and wires and then rushed off to get the doctor.

"Where's your brother, hiding his Impala from me?" Hermione asked, her voice still holding the scratchy sound, making her clear her throat several times to try to get rid of it before seeing that it was of no use.

"He went to go help Bobby with some – aah, ticks," he stated as Dr. Frank walked in. Hermione hummed and protested when he ushered Sam out of the room, making the doctor relent and let Sam stay as he checked her over. The two talked and joked and rolled their eyes and grinned at one another, making Dr. Frank snort and try to stay professional at some times. He stated that Hermione would be out of the hospital in a few days.

"Want to call Dean?" Sam asked with a grin, making her smile and nod and have him shift to sit on the edge of her bed, phone out and dialing his brother's number before setting him on speaker.

"Did it happen?" Dean answered worriedly, making Hermione arch an eyebrow at Sam before smiling and speaking.

"Well hello, Mister Winchester, so nice for you to be here when I woke up," she grinned when Dean gave a shout of surprise.

"Hermione! Oh, thank God – don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear me? I had a heart attack! I thought you were dead and gone and that I would never get to pick on you again!"

Hermione snorted, "What? What are you talking about?"

Sam coughed nervously before grinning sheepishly at her, "Apparently, there was talk in Heaven about you going there. Castiel talked to your guardian angel and convinced them to let you stay."

Hermione blinked back at him before pursing her lips, "Castiel's my guardian angel."

"What?" Dean chorused with Sam.

"He told me after I saved Daniel Fischer," she nodded back, "He said that my original one had left the position once I got into Hogwarts and that he took up the position right before the Battle. He said that he was wary of me because I was a witch, and that he saw that I was good. Apparently that happens with a lot of angels and Muggleborns."

"Why did he never tell us?" Dean questioned.

"Dunno, I can't explain angels," she shrugged before hissing, waving Sam away as he looked worriedly at her. "Honestly, I've been out for weeks and haven't moved an inch – of course my muscles are going to protest, now stop bloody hovering. I'm fine."

"Yeah, she's fine, she's nagging already," Dean stated.

"Do you feel the glare?" Sam asked with a grin.

"Practically," Dean chuckled as Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Well, it's nice to know that you two worried over whether I would live or die," Hermione hummed as she flicked lint off of the blanket.

"Of course we worried," Sam snorted.

"Sam did enough for the both of us, though," Dean sighed, "Hermione, if you can, make him take a nap or go get some coffee, will you?"

"Sam," Hermione started sternly as he could only grin sheepishly at her. She sighed and pecked him on the cheek, rolling her eyes and leaning against his shoulder, "Only been awake twenty minutes and I'm already worrying over you."

"I'll be up in a few days," Dean began.

"Oh, don't bother," Hermione said, still against Sam's shoulder, "We'll just come down to Bobby's once I get out."

"How's about after all of this we take a break?" Sam suggested.

"Apparently I've been taking a break for three weeks," she huffed.

"Hermione, you're not even out of the hospital yet," Sam frowned.

Dean chuckled on the other end, "A break sounds fine. I'll tell Bobby you two are incoming and set up the couch for little Miss Granger." Hermione blew a razz at the phone. "Are you going to rent a car or 'rent' a car?"

"Let's be good citizens," Hermione hummed, tracing the lines on Sam's hand like he had done a while ago, "Last time, the car was full of trash. I still am not able to even drive by a McDonalds without feeling sick."

"Alright – see you two soon. Bye!"

"Bye, Dean," they chorused before he hung up, Sam putting his phone back in his pocket. He pecked Hermione's head once this was done, making her grin and look up at him.

"You really missed me, didn't you?" she questioned, seeming quite pleased with this.

"Of course I did," he smiled back, making her hum and lean against him again, "You're my best friend. Not talking to you was unbearable."

"Aww," she smiled when he draped an arm over her, "D'you think if I fall asleep on you, the nurse will let you stay?"

He grinned and slid down a little, "Only one way to find out." She gave a laugh and settled her head over his heart. He tugged at a curl and felt his eyelids getting heavier. "Merry Christmas, Hermione."

"Happy Christmas, Sam."

"Merry."

"Happy."

He sighed and rolled his eyes, "Goodnight."

"Night," she said quietly. And with that, they were both asleep.