Set mid-season 4 of Supernatural.
This was supposed to be a much longer story for SuperPhantom week, but… time gets away from me. Found this again and thought maybe it stood ok on its own.
Ezekiel, ever the good soldier, remained alert for danger hovering in ethereal form above the earth. He had been left behind as a guard while Michael's army went to meet Lilith's on the bank of the Jordan River. His senses were stretched thin, trying to keep track of many potential Seals at once. His awareness flickered from location to location, lingering for only a fraction of a second at each.
Suddenly, something registered at the edge of his senses – something WRONG. He brought his full attention there in an instant. The portal was opening! In the center of the coalescing energy was a dark-haired boy dressed in white, the intended sacrifice for this convoluted combination of ritual and technology.
Ezekiel flew, arriving almost instantaneously inside the portal, his full angelic form protecting him from the energies within. He scooped up the screaming boy, just as the small body finally fell limp and lifeless, and gently deposited him outside the entrance. Ezekiel barely took note of the demon smoking out of the violet-eyed girl nearby as he concentrated on saving the Seal.
Refusing to let the boy die – to allow the ritual to complete – he used as much of his energy as he could to pull that tiny spark of life back to the boy's body. But looking up, he realized he was too late to save the Seal. The blindingly bright light had resolved into a swirling green vortex.
Ezekiel had failed. The veil between worlds had been breached. The worlds of ghosts and mortals now touched, opening one into the other. This battle was lost.
Ezekiel returned to his post above the earth, taking a moment – faster than the blink of a human eye – to note the battle at the river was going in Michael's favor at least. Then once again he stretched out his senses to watch his assigned locations: hundreds of points throughout the earth. There was no time for self-recrimination, guilt, or doubt. He had a job to do.