It was some time before I awoke again, in the middle of the night and not knowing how many days had passed. Alone and still gravely injured but able to get out of bed, I instinctively sought out the moonlight. The polar opposite of what used to energize me. Presumably because of the empty bag I ripped off, I wasn't hungry. I just wanted to feel the pull off the night to clear my head before seeking out anyone to learn what was going on.
I passed Dean's room, hearing him snore and glad I didn't have to stop and interact with him. Sam was nowhere to be sensed, his most recent scent trail leading up to the front door. Thinking I might be spotted if I went that way, I stiffly limped through observatory and up the spiraling stairs to the roof.
Breathing in the crisp winter air of the night, soaking in the feel of the clear skies and stars, I instantly felt less foggy. So I just stood there, eyes closed, and let it become meditation. It might have looked odd, a pale woman in not but an oversized Tshirt standing out in the cold on an industrial roof, but no one would've seen if they weren't searching.
At long last, I had some time to think.
Time to convince myself that I'd been very wrong about alot of things. Mostly regarding Castiel. When I thought about the apocalyptic future we would create, it ripped my heart out, and I finally understood what was wrong. What was missing. What was in the way.
As if lured by my pondering, which he might have been, I sensed him coming up the stairs and stopping a meter or two behind me. I didn't turn around. Moving still hurt. And stubborn pride didn't want to reveal the chilled drops running down both cheeks.
"What are you doing up here?" he asked with genuine and gentle curiosity.
I hunched my shoulders stiffly in response, certain I still couldn't talk.
He took a few hesitant steps closer.
"I meant to be here when you woke, but Sam...well I'm assuming you already know about the witch."
I nodded rigidly, while he got even closer.
"How long was I out...?"
"Three days," he answered, now close enough I could feel his coat touching me. He then rested a hand on my shoulder with a gentle tug, "Can I see?"
I wasn't inclined to twist around, so he came around instead, observing my wet face but saying nothing about it. I let him tilt my jaw up delicately to have a look at the top of my injury. My heart fluttered at how caring he still was after everything.
"At least we know angelic weapons won't necessarily kill you," he said quietly and pulling away, "but that was still very stupid, trying save me with a broken arm."
I lowered my still leaking eyes, not sure what to say in my defense.
"I've done stupider things..."
The softest of laughs escaped him in agreement, before he couldn't help himself but dry my face with a thumb, careful of the cut on my cheek.
"What's wrong, Hazel?"
The drying was in vain, as the streams were instantly replaced. I just shook my head, not knowing where to begin or what to say.
Cas took that as permission to speak his own mind instead.
"I um...can't thank you enough, for helping with Claire. If you hadn't gotten to that barn when you did..." he trailed off for a moment, "You're doing better. You're not...not the monster you think you are."
Nodding appreciatively and sniffling, I opened my mouth and almost forgot I couldn't use it.
"I'm trying...to fix things. I don't know what else to do."
"I am too," he whispered emotionally, then started digging in his pocket to pull out a small glass bottle of blood, "we can start with this."
I blinked quizzically at it. It wasn't the Alpha's, that much I knew.
