Smoke

Hannah’s focus was almost frightening as she held the taper to the collar, flames licking up as the holy oil caught fire. It burnished Cas’ skin. Dean had to keep himself from putting the fire out.

Sam stood right next to Dean, his hand on Dean’s shoulder, and Bela sat in the chair next to him, her hand on the table near Cas’, as though she intended to take hold of it if Dean let go. As if he was going to let go.

Sam had glanced at Dean’s hand in Cas’ and said nothing.

The oil burned, sparking as it went, and Hannah intoned words that sounded like something old and living sat inside them. Dean couldn’t hold them in his head. He didn’t try. He just watched as, with each syllable, another line of script flared blue or gold or orange or green.

Cas wore a collar of colors, now, and Dean tightened his fingers around the angel’s, not quite able to believe the fire wouldn’t burn Cas’ flesh.

“Steady, Dean,” Bela said, almost under her breath. “Hold on.”

Hannah spoke the final word, and the colors blazed. Dean’s vision whited out for a moment, and when it cleared Hannah held the collar in her hands and Cas’ neck was free.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Dean said.

“What now?” Sam asked at the same time. “What do we need to do?”

Bela’s chair scraped along the floor as she stood, and she was by Hannah’s side with a small bag before Dean could check what she was doing. She reaching into the bag and pulled out a vial of glowing blue light. Grace. That was Grace.

“Who’s is that?” Dean asked, because Cas had told him he wouldn’t take another angel’s Grace again, not even when Dean had tried to get out the words to say how much it would hurt him if Cas refused out of some morals and died for it.

Hannah glanced at him, understanding on her face.

“His,” she said.

“That makes no sense,” Sam said. “Cas’ Grace…he got that back.”

“What was left of it,” Bela said. “Not all of his stuffing was there, was it now? He’s been a poorly padded teddy bear for a while now.”

Hope licked at Dean’s insides, and he wasn’t sure it was much better than the fear.

“You’re sure it’s his?” he asked. “Metatron said he used it up in the spell. Cas said.”

Bela and Hannah shared a look, and Bela passed the vial to Hannah, who held it carefully in her right hand.

“The spell didn’t use the Grace up so much as…I suppose the closest way of looking at it is that Metatron killed most of Castiel’s Grace. He sent it where angels go when they die.”

“Angel Heaven? Cas’ Grace has been in angel Heaven? But, isn’t his Grace part of him?”

Dean would never understand how Grace and angels and souls and minds and all that crap overlapped. Cas had been Cas without his Grace, but he’d also…not been. Dean hadn’t spent enough time with human Cas to be sure, and he would never stop feeling guilt over that, but in the brief time they’d had he’d picked up hints that Cas remembered some things differently, that some details had slipped.

“How much of him him is in that? Have we been walking around with half a Cas?”

Hannah looked at him, and Dean got the feeling she was processing how to approach the matter. Cas had said, when he’d finally spoken about Hannah, about losing her, that she’d become one of the most thoughtful, most sensitive angels in the Host’s long history. Dean had never quite understood how that added up to being a part of fooling Cas with that final torture and rescue scene, but the guy hadn’t wanted to hear that opinion. Hannah clearly meant a lot to him. Now, Dean saw her attempting to find the right words and he saw what Cas meant. She didn’t look to have a bad bone in her. That whole shit-storm likely had been because she’d thought it was the best thing for everyone.

That didn’t make it okay, but… Dean could relate.

“He’s been Castiel the whole time,” Hannah said. “But an angel’s Grace does contain some of that angel’s memories and personality. It has out imprint. So, yes, to an extent Castiel has not been entirely whole since Metatron took this from him.”

“And giving that back, that’ll fix him up?” Sam asked. “He’ll be fine?”

Hannah shrugged.

“Maybe. I’ve never seen an angel as damaged as Castiel who hasn’t called for a Rit Zien to end it. And his Grace has been in-” She paused and glanced right at Dean. “In angel Heaven for a long time. I’m not sure it’s unaltered by that.”

“And you’re, what, just going to shove that in him anyway?” Dean asked.

Without meaning to, he pulled Cas’ hand closer to him.

“If I don’t give him this, he’ll die, Dean,” Hannah said. “I’ve removed the collar, and what’s left of him is free to heal, but he’s so weak and so damaged I’m not sure he will. I’m almost certain he won’t make it without this additional Grace.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

Hannah’s lack of response told Dean she had no idea.

Dean looked up at Sam, whose mouth was pulled into a tight line. He shrugged one shoulder.

“It’s not like it’s the craziest thing any of us has ever done, Dean,” Sam said. “If it’s this or watch Cas die, I say we risk it.”

“Castiel is Hannah’s brother,” Bela said. “What makes you think this is your choice?”

“Bela,” Hannah said. She turned to meet Bela’s gaze, and the softness there was something Dean would take a while to get used to. “If anything happens to me, I want any choices like this to be yours. I have to give Dean the same courtesy.”

Sam didn’t even ask why Hannah wanted Dean to choose, and not him. Maybe Bela was right about what everyone knew.

“Do it,” Dean said, going with his gut.

He made himself watch as Hannah removed the cap, as she held the vial near Cas’ mouth, and as light streamed from the container into the angel’s mouth. Cas’ lips were parted, just a bit, and the Grace streamed in.

Cas lit up.

Dean clung to his hand, but it was hot, so hot he worried it might be burning. He couldn’t feel that. He couldn’t feel much of anything. He was just aware of light and pressure. After a moment, he wasn’t able to feel his own hand at all. Just the light.

The light faded, and Dean still had hold of Cas. Cas who was looking right back at him, his eyes glowing.

“Dean,” Cas said.

And Dean didn’t care that everyone was watching. He pushed out of his chair and bent down to hug Cas. Somehow, in between standing and leaning over Cas, he switched targets, and pressed his lips to Cas’.