Author's Note: Sorry this has taken a while. Hope you like it.

Sam's face was contorted in pain as Azariah's small hand was inserted into his body. Castiel was keeping a tight grip on his sister's elbow to make sure her hand wouldn't shake too bad—the last thing he needed was Sam exploding from her slipping up. "Have you ever done this before?" Dean asked Azariah. She ignored him in favor of making sure his brother stayed in one piece.

"You're there," Castiel told her. "Now, just siphon off a little bit. You don't want to hurt him anymore than you have to." Azariah nodded tightly. White light spiraled up the blue veins on the underside of her arm that was buried to halfway between elbow and wrist in Sam's torso. The light travelled all the way up to her eyes, where the gray flashed white. "Good. Enough," Castiel said. Azariah pulled her hand out of Sam. He slumped against the chair and spat the popsicle sticks he bit down on out of his mouth.

"That was more uncomfortable than I remembered," he remarked, sounding both exhausted and sarcastic.

"You remember an entirely different procedure," Castiel said. He turned to Azariah and tugged her torn T-shirt collar down a little so he could see the extent of the damage and how much it had healed. It was no longer from her shoulder to the center of her upper chest. At least three inches were gone—and on such a small Vessel, that was saying something. Now there was about a fourth of her chest damaged and the horrific wound to the shoulder. White light was still seeping out of it. "Bobby, I suggest you go last. That will require the least amount of energy," Castiel added to the older man, who nodded.

Dean sat down in front of Azariah and put two new popsicle sticks in his mouth. "Just get this over with," he muttered. Castiel took his firm grip on his sister's elbow as she pressed her fingers against the older Winchester's skin. Dean's face twisted and Azariah closed her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," she murmured. But she found his soul quicker than she had with Sam's and pulled just a smidge less energy away from it. The white light again spiraled up her arms all the way to her eyes before she extracted her arm and Dean spit out the popsicle sticks. The exposed wound healed before their eyes, skin closing up and not even leaving a scar.

"Well, cross that off the bucket list," Dean commented. Azariah scrunched her eyebrows.

"Do you add sarcasm to everything?" she asked.

Dean thought for a moment. "Generally, yeah."

Castiel bit back a smirk, remembering a timeline that never actually happened, but Dean had gone forward and seen it, of what would have happened if they hadn't averted the Apocalypse. Those were the same words he'd told Dean when he asked if Cas was "stoned."

Bobby and Dean switched places and Azariah closed her eyes again. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it, girl. We're willing," Bobby said. "You do things that hurt for your family."

"But… I'm not your family," Azariah pointed out, pushing her hand forward.

"No, but Cas is," Dean said. "And his family is ours."

Azariah didn't say anything as she finished siphoning some of the energy off of Bobby's soul, watching her wound close up at the same time. She pulled her arm out. "Thank you. All three of you," she said to them. "I know you didn't need to do that and it wasn't exactly painless, but thank you for helping me heal faster than I would have on my own." She stood up and turned in a circle. When she was facing them again her shirt was no longer torn and she wasn't covered in blood. "That's so much better," she said, sighing.

"You don't have to thank us," Dean commented. "I'm sure if the situation was reversed you'd have done the same for us."

"Of course." Azariah nodded.

"But, now that that's over with, who wants something to eat?"

Castiel and Azariah shook their heads. "No thanks. Not us." Azariah smirked. It seemed like Dean never stopped eating, snacking, munching. Like he needed to keep his mouth busy at all times. The fact that he often talked when he wasn't chewing on something seemed to reiterate that observation.

~A~

"Who was that, anyway?" Azariah asked about a half hour later while the humans were eating.

"One of Raphael's followers," Castiel replied. They were sitting next to each other on Bobby's couch while Dean, Sam, and Bobby were in the kitchen where all the food was.

"Not the one who attacked me before was it?"

"I doubt it. So many angels are on either side the numbers aren't pointing that way."

"So you've never seen him before?"

"No, I have. I know the names of every angel in existence and the faces that go with them, but I know for a fact that one is working under Raphael. You could call him a henchman, I suppose. Both armies have them. Angels that are willing to do some dirty work for their cause."

Azariah raised her eyebrows. "Just so you know, I'm not that kind of angel," she remarked.

Cas smiled. "I know." What he didn't say was that he probably knew her better than she knew herself. He'd been the outside observer for thousands of years. He knew almost exactly what kind of angel she was. He knew that she was powerful, tough, and a capable fighter. He also knew that she had a heart of gold and unfailing loyalty. When someone earned hers, she would stick with them to the end—she'd done that for Castiel himself. In fact, some part of him wondered if she learned to be loyal from him—as it was one of his traits as well.

"Well!" Dean said loudly, standing up from the table and clapping his hands together. "It's gettin' late, and I'm going to have me some shut-eye." Azariah and Castiel stood from the couch so he could sleep on it and went into the kitchen. Sam and Bobby decided to turn in too, so they went off to go get ready. Castiel looked at Azariah and shrugged.

"I'll go to Heaven tonight. I'll be back by morning," he promised. "Watch over them."

"I will," Azariah replied. She kissed her brother on the cheek when he leaned down to hug her, and in a moment he was gone. Azariah sighed and looked around the house. "Another night of boredom I guess," she mused.

End Note: But will it be? (Actually, probably. I wrote this ages ago and can't remember what happens...)

Thanks for reading!

~Cass