Thalia sat up in bed. A familiar figure was standing at the foot of her bed, his silhouette clear against the moonlight coming in through the window behind him. It had been at least seven months since he'd come to her, and Thalia had wondered if he was ever going to come again, but here he was, waiting for her to say something like always.

"Hullo Castiel," she said, levering her legs out of bed. She moved to her closet to retrieve her clothing and get dressed, but Castiel stopped her with his hand on her arm. "Not tonight, Thalia. We have to talk." He sat her back down on the bed.

Talking was different for Castiel. In all the years he'd been visiting Thalia he'd kept his words to a minimum, and even then he'd mostly given instructions.

She couldn't remember the first time he'd visited her; she only knew that it had been happening as long as she could remember. She had faint memories of Castiel lifting her out of her crib to teach her to walk, and later coaching her through basic Latin. Castiel had always been a teacher to her. Until seven months ago he had appeared three or four nights a week to coach her on everything from history to Latin to taking her outside and running her through drills, teaching her fighting skills and weaponry. She had no idea what she was training for, but Castiel seemed to think it was important.

She had thought that this night would be no different, that Castiel was here to pick her training up again. The prospect of talking was making her nervous.

Castiel paced the length of her room, his eyes on the floor. Thalia knew better than to interrupt his thinking. Nineteen years of working with Castiel had taught her well.

"It's time for you to use your training," Castiel began, still pacing. "We have an assignment for you."

Thalia blinked. This was sudden, but not entirely unexpected. What, after all, had she been training for all these years?

"What should I do?"

"You know that you have… special skills." Castiel shot her a look, and Thalia grinned to herself. She might not know what Castiel was training her for, but she knew that she had skills far outside those of a usual soldier. Castiel had seen to that. "We've developed those skills so that you can do this job."

Thalia waited, but Castiel continued pacing and did not speak again. "What job?"

"Pack a bag. I'm taking you to it now."

Thalia frowned but didn't argue. She wasn't sure what she should be packing, but she filled a messenger bag with clothing and books- the essentials. Seeing that she was ready, Castiel reached out and put a hand on her forehead.

They rematerialized outside a dingy motel. The neon sign flickered on and off and many of the windows had spider webs of cracks stretching across them. Thalia raised an eyebrow in question, hoping that Castiel would explain, but he strode toward the back of the motel without a word.

Stopping outside room 103, he raised a hand and knocked. The door was opened a crack a moment later. The person inside paused before swinging the door wide and allowing Castiel to enter. He almost closed the door behind him before Castiel indicated that Thalia should come inside as well.

"Who the hell is this?" the man asked. Looking more closely, Thalia saw that he held a gun in his hand. In fact, there were guns spread out all over the two queen beds in the room and another man sat amongst them, polishing busily. Thalia was impressed. They took good care of their weapons.

"She's important," Castiel said, answering the first man's question. "Thalia. This is Dean and Sam."

Thalia surveyed them slowly. Sam was taller, but Dean was more attractive. Thalia had always liked blondes better, anyway.

"Thalia is going to help you," Castiel told Dean. "She's here to keep you safe."

Dean snorted. "She's what, twelve? I think we've taken care of ourselves well enough until now."

"I'm nineteen," Thalia said coolly, fixing Dean with a hard stare.

"Her age isn't the issue. I can't be with you constantly. Zachariah is looking for you, and Thalia will make sure he, or any other angel, can't find you."

Dean stared at Thalia with raised eyebrows as Sam came over to stand with them. "How will she do that?" Sam asked.

Thalia waited, unsure if Castiel expected her to explain. When he didn't answer Sam, she said, "I've been training for this for a long time. Trust me, I can do it."

"She's not a typical child," Castiel said, interrupting Deans retort. "I've been training her her entire life."

"Our dad trained us all our lives too. What makes her better at protecting us than we are?"

"She was trained by an angel," Castiel replied shortly. Dean didn't seem to have a good retort. "I have to go. Stay with them," he said, turning to Thalia, and then he was gone.

"Look…" Sam didn't seem to know how to say it gently. "I really think you'd better go. We'll be fine."

"Castiel told me to stay," Thalia replied. "He gave me an order."

"Why does that sound familiar?" Sam asked exasperatedly, looking over at Dean.

"Help us out here, Thalia," Dean said as Thalia chucked her bag into a clear space on the nearest bed. "How are you supposed to keep us safe?"

"Castiel told you. I was trained by an angel. I have skills." Sam and Dean both stared at her pointedly and Thalia steeled herself to give a long explanation. "Okay. Castiel's been visiting me my entire life and teaching me things. Training me. I didn't know what he was training me for until he brought me here tonight. I just found a lot of this out myself, so it's going to be a little jumbled… Angels can time travel. Castiel came from the present time, this time, and went back to when I was born in order to get me ready to keep you safe. My entire life has been spent preparing for this. But in order to make me strong enough, he had to do things that aren't a part of normal hunter training." Thalia looked down then. She had reached the delicate part of her history.

"What did he do?" Sam asked, his voice soft.

"I suppose you could say that he made me into the angel equivalent of you, Sam." Thalia kept her eyes down as she spoke. She didn't want to see the looks on the brothers' faces as they realized what she meant.

"What-" Dean started, but then his words were cut off by a sharp intake of breath. "They gave you angel blood."

Thalia looked up then. Dean was staring at her, his eyes filled with something like horror, but Sam's stare was something else entirely. He was staring at her face as though she was some sort of Holy Grail, as though if he only looked hard enough he'd find answers there.

"God, what will they do next?" Dean snarled, kicking over a chair and reaching for a bottle of whiskey sitting on the television. He downed a long swig and glared at the wall.

Sam raised his eyebrows and looked at Thalia, motioning with his eyes toward the door. He walked out, watching his brother's back, and Thalia chose to follow him rather than stay in a small room with an angry Dean Winchester.