"Well?"

Cain helped Azrael put the woman into the bed over in the far corner of the cabin. It was supposed to be the Angel's bed, but he rarely ever laid down for more than a few hours any time he was home, resting only long enough to keep his mortal body from collapsing completely.

"She needs to get out of these wet things." Cain gently slid the soaked tank top up over the woman's shoulders, averting his eyes as he did. He felt terribly uncomfortable about the whole thing, even though he knew it was necessary. She was pretty far gone, so fully hypothermic she'd even stopped shivering. The Angel couldn't fully heal her—that sort of thing was more his brother's area of expertise—but he could keep her from dying. Every few moments, Cain noticed, Azrael would reach out and touch her forehead, and the knowledge of what the Angel was doing made Cain shudder. Why was this so necessary, now?

"You do it," Cain said gruffly, stepping aside and looking out the window to the woods beyond. "And get her under those blankets fast."

He heard the rustle of cloth behind him, and when it was proper for him to turn back around, he did. Azrael had tucked the woman under the red wool blankets, and was brushing his hand against her forehead, keeping the dread clock from ticking that last second one more time. Cain went to the large chest by the foot of the bed and pulled out a towel, and couldn't help staring at the Angel as he loomed over the bed. This was certainly new.

"Will that save her?" Azrael asked. He sounded concerned.

Cain toweled the woman's hair dry. She was limp, but she was breathing, and the color in her cheeks was coming back.

"It's a start," Cain said. "Now you."

"I am fine."

"I’m not going to play nurse to the two of you. Out of those clothes, now."

The Angel undressed, never taking his eyes off the woman in the bed.

"Who is she?" Cain went back to the stove and grabbed a mug, making the Angel a cup of instant coffee from the kettle he always kept on top.

"Rebecca Lin," Azrael said as he swiped the towel across his body awkwardly. It was automatic, the way the Angel always knew a person by name. "She was in the lake."

"And you saved her?"

The Angel nodded.

"You?"

The Angel of Death nodded again. He put the coffee down and stepped to a place beside the bed once more. He brushed his hand against her forehead, his eyes closed.

Cain could see that Azrael couldn't keep this up very much longer. Every time he pulled Rebecca back from the brink of the curtain, he looked more worn out, the very act of working against his nature taxing him. And yet he kept doing it. Rebecca started to breathe again, and Azrael nearly fell over on top of her, weaving on his feet to try and stay alert.

"What else?" Azrael said.

"What else?" Cain echoed. He was still at a complete loss as to what was going on. Yesterday, Azrael wouldn't have given the woman's drowning a second thought.

"What else can we do?"

He was helpless, Cain saw. What experience did the Angel ever have with keeping someone alive? Why would he even want to?

"I'll add another log to the fire," Cain said at last. "We got to find a way to get her temperature up, and stable."

Azrael nodded.

"Get her head bundled up. Much as you can." Cain was barking it out as he poked at the coals, sliding another log in place, and then another, turning the wood back and forth to get a flame going as fast possible. "When she comes around, we got to get her something to—"

He stopped. Azrael was standing over the head of the bed, his wings unfurled and spread wide, so narrow was his focus that he had slipped into his angelic form unconsciously. One hand was brushed against the woman's cheek, and his head was low.

"Something to drink," Cain said at last. Azrael had tucked a stray curl of red hair behind the woman's ear. 

"And then?" Azrael said.

"If she wakes up?"

"When she wakes up," Azrael said, "I won't let her slip away."

"Right. When she wakes up, we're almost out of the woods. But that might not be for a while."

"How long?"

“I don't know,” Cain almost snapped. “No one knows.” How could the Angel know absolutely nothing about how these things worked? "Could be an hour, could be tomorrow."

Azrael pulled one of the chairs over to the bed. "I will watch over her, then."

Cain looked at him for a moment and sighed. "Get some clothes on first."