Maybe…. just maybe…. if he hadn't been crying, if he hadn't been so loud, if he would have just shut up and let the man do what he was supposed to do…

Sam Winchester covered his ears and curled up in the bed, whimpering as the thoughts continued to come into his head. You let your mother die… It was all your fault…there was nothing you could have done to stop it. The voices got louder. You let Jess die too… she burned on the ceiling because of you, because of everything you did. It's your fault she's dead. Yours and no one else's.

"Shut up shut up shut up," he groaned softly trying not to wake Dean. "Shut up…"

All those things that happened to you, they were all your fault. Yours and yours alone. Just like Dean said when he found Charlie in the tub, dead. 'That should have been you'. It should have bee, Sam Winchester. You should be the one that's dead. Sam whimpered even more and curled up panting. "Dean," he whimpered out. "Dean make it stop, please, make it stop…"

Every person that has died was your fault. Charlie. Cas. Jess. Your mom. Bobby. Everyone died because of you. Because you decided to go your own way, and to think that your old ghosts aren't gonna follow you. News flash. They did.

"SHUT UP!" Sam yelled sitting up, panting hard. Dean was snoring in his bed, oblivious to his younger brother. Sam covered his face taking a deep breath as he whimpered softly, allowing the walls he had put up to quietly come crashing down, if just for a moment. A bright light shone in the corner and Sam looked up immediately grabbing the blade by his bed. As the light died out, a girl raised her head. She didn't look older than 17, her light skin and piercing blue eyes still young and innocent. As car lights flashed through the window, a pair of black wings was visible on the white walls. She looked at Sam and tilted her head, her long dark hair falling down over one shoulder. She wore a white tee shirt and a leather jacket much too big for her, with biker boots and tight blue jeans.

"Sam Winchester," She said, her voice lower than Sam expected. "You have been having a rough night, I hear."

"Who are you," he growled holding up his blade. The girl simply looked at him and tilted her head the other way. The light flashed again as someone drove by and Sam noticed a small flash of light sparkling off her nose piercing.

"My name is Ambriel. I am an angel of the Lord." She looked down. "Although, if you were being technical, this is my vessel, Michaela ."

"Why are you here?" He asked still not letting his guard down.

"Because you were in pain," she said. "I could not have my ward in such pain."

"Your what?" Sam said growling a little.

"My ward." She said. "I suppose you do not know….Castiel probably forgot to tell you, I assume."

"Tell me what?" He snapped.

"You have a guardian angel," she said softly. "So as Castiel is your brothers guardian, as am I to you."

"If I have a guardian angel, then why was all this given to me," he growled, holding the blade up again. "If you're real, why have I gone through everything that I've gone through!?"

"It was of pain to me as well, Sam Winchester," she said. She pulled off her coat and he could see marks on her pale skin; marks that looked like cuts up and down her arms. He glanced at her and she looked at him. "These were not on my vessel before I entered her." she said.

He stared for a minute. She tilted her head once again. "You need sleep."

"I'm fine."

She rolled her eyes and walked over, tapping his forehead. All he felt was his body falling back into the pillows, and then complete, soothing darkness.