"WHO ARE YOU?!" Dean yelled, so loudly it made her ears ring.

Hannah's mind went into slow mode. She couldn't think straight. No one had been able to take her by surprise like this. Ever. She opened her mouth to say something, but when nothing came, she closed it again.

Dean was still glaring at her, waiting for her answer. She'd never had a guy, except Bobby, look her in the eye before. It was unnerving. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something was wrong with him, and part of her really wanted to put as much distance as she could between the two of them. There was something behind those green eyes, something in the back of Dean's mind that wasn't entirely… human.

Instead of telling him, "Hey, let's do this: You drop the angel blade, and I'll talk," what came out of her mouth was:

"What's wrong with you?"

It was followed immediately by, 'There was probably a better way to phrase that…'

"What's wrong with me?" Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at her.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Sam, and the one called Cas, walked into the room again. Sam was carrying a pistol, at the ready in his hands, but lowered it, when he saw Dean had the situation in hand. Literally.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Dean, went on.

She couldn't stop herself. "Next time you leave, you really should lock the door, Moron." The word 'moron', hadn't been her first choice, but it was the one she'd decided to go with.

Dean took a step forward, taking the blade away from her throat, and pointing it under her chin instead. Hannah could feel the sharp metal digging into her skin. It wasn't enough to cut her, but it still hurt. Hurt enough to force her to look up, if only to try and get away from the blade as much as possible could, given the circumstances. She had a feeling Dean knew that. He knew exactly what he was doing. And maybe, she thought, that was the problem.

Not taking his eyes off her, he said, "Sam…"

"Yeah?" Sam replied, looking nervously between her, still pinned to the wall, and his brother.

"Go get some holy water, and a knife."

Hannah watched, as Sam hesitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to let his brother out of his sight, and from where Hannah was standing, he had a good reason not to.

"Now, Sam." Dean said, getting impatient.

Sam looked at Cas, who nodded once. Sam turned on his heel, and walked out of the room. Hannah could hear his footsteps echoing down the hall.

"Dean," Cas said walking forward, slowly.

Dean glanced in his direction, but still kept a tight hold on Hannah. She didn't have the heart to tell him that, if she wanted to, she could easily overpower him. Then he'd be the one pinned to the wall.

"Let her go."

"Why?" Dean said, looking at her again, this time with a newfound interest.

"Because I'm the one that let her in." Cas stated, bluntly.

Hannah noticed Sam had come back, holding a flask in one hand, and a silver knife in the other. Although, he seemed to forget just about everything, after hearing that Cas had let a perfect stranger into their inner sanctum. Hannah saw the blade in Dean's hand go slack, ever so slightly…

She bolted.

She shoved Dean's arm out of the way. The force sent him flying, and he landed hard on the floor, on the other side of the room.

She heard Sam shout, "Hey!" behind her, but didn't stop to look, as she raced down the hall.

She could hear Sam, and someone else running after her. She needed to find a way out of here.

She tried a door. Locked. She tried another. Locked. She tried another, and another, but they were all locked. How many doors does this place have?

She finally found one, but the door was jammed. She threw her shoulder up against it, forcing the door open. She slammed it shut behind her, just as Sam came racing down the hall.

With any luck, she thought, it would take Sam a much longer time to get it open. She took a look around her. Great, she thought. She'd managed to lock herself in a storage room.

Then she saw stairs. Yes, thank God, a back door. She took the steps two at a time. She heard the door break open, just as her feet hit the last step. She could see a door at the end of the storage room, slightly ajar. She raced toward it, flung open the door, and found herself in... Well, it looked like some kind of horror movie, torture chamber.

There was a devil's trap painted on the floor, in the middle of the room, and inside the trap was a chair. The chair was what creeped her out the most. It had leather straps, and what looked like iron cuffs, and chains hanging from it. She didn't think much of anything could escape from this. Possibly, herself included. She heard the sounds of footsteps behind her. They weren't running anymore, they were closing in. Sam was the first to speak.

"Turn around. No sudden movements, or I will shoot you."

She didn't have a choice now. She raised her hands slowly, and did as he asked. Sam, and Cas were both looking at her, Sam holding his gun yet again.

"What are you?" Sam asked, his hands shaking slightly. "Werewolf?"

"That's the best you can come up with?"

Sam looked a little annoyed by her answer, but at least his hands weren't shaking anymore.

"I'm sorry about you're brother. I didn't hurt him did I?"

"He'll be fine." Cas answered, giving her a small smile.

"You're the girl from the Motel. The one in Hebron, North Dakota that exploded? Dean, and I saw the security footage, and there was no flash to your eyes, so obviously, you're not a shifter. "

"The one that… what? What do you mean it, 'exploded?'" Hannah said, lowering her hands slightly. She'd seen the flash of white light in her rearview mirror, but that had been all. Or so she'd thought.

"The door was shattered into splinters, and everything inside was either melted, or charcoal." Sam explained, and lowered his gun. "I guess you didn't know about that."

"No, I didn't." Then she had a horrible thought. "Oh, god! No one got hurt, or… killed, did they?"

"No, you were the only one there."

"Good." she said, letting out a breath in relief. Then awkwardly, she added, "Can I… put my hands down now?"

Sam glanced at Cas, then back at her. "Yeah, go ahead." He told her, pocketing his gun.

Which is when Dean came thundering down the stairs. Hannah felt a weight drop into her stomach. Dean looked like he was in some pain, and he was cradling his arm, as he walked toward them. It looked like she'd dislocated his shoulder. He was still holding an angel blade in his free hand.

He grimaced at Hannah, then turned to Cas.

"Cas, a little help here?"

He touched his fingertips to Dean's forehead, and in the blink of an eye, Dean's injury was healed.

"So, you let her in…" Dean said, circling Hannah like a lion circles prey.

"Why would you let her in?" Sam added to Cas, finishing his brother's train of thought.

"I let her in, to keep her safe." Cas sounded tired to her.

If this was the kind of thing he had to put up with everyday, Hannah could definitely understand why.

"So I'm guessing," Dean paused, turning to Cas. "That you two know each other?"

"Kind of." Cas, and Hannah answered in unison.

"Kind of?" Dean parroted.

"It's complicated." Cas said, like this answer explained everything.

"Well, do you mind un-complicating it for me? Because I'm lost!" Dean yelled.

"That makes two of us." Sam added, folding his arms across his chest.

"Dean…" Hannah said, taking a step toward him. He looked surprised that she'd used his name. "My name is Hannah. I'm a… friend… of Bobby's."

"Bobby? As in Bobby Singer?" Sam said.

She nodded. "You can call him. He'll vouch for me."

Sam, Dean and Cas all exchanged glances. She looked at Cas, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. Sam looked uncomfortable, and Dean was staring at the floor. He finally set the angel blade down, laying on top of a desk in a corner of the little room.

She knew something was very wrong. Wrong with Bobby. Her heartbeat was going a million miles a second, and she felt like she was going to be sick. "What is it? Is he okay?"

She watched as Dean pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. "For such a good friend of Bobby's, I'm surprised you don't know."

"Know what?" She was afraid she already knew the answer.

"Bobby's dead, Hannah." Sam answered her, gently. "He's been dead for two years."