The tip to check the road under the bridge was another futile attempt to find any sort of lead. It looked exactly the way she had left it all those years ago. The library held no answers either. By now she was very frustrated with herself, Dean, Ethel – basically the world.

"Tomorrow's a new day, princess," Dean attempted to console her. "Hey." she looked over at him. "We're gonna get this sonnabitch, you hear me?"

"I hear ya," she grumbled, laying her head against the window.

Emily was kept up in the whirlwind of her own thoughts until the Dean cut the impala's engine in front of the motel room. With a quick glance at the clock, she saw that it was already 8:45. "Listen," Dean said. "We're running a bit low on funds. I was thinking about hitting a bar tonight. You in?"

The gears immediately began moving in her mind. "No, I'm gonna get some shut eye. You go. There's a good one about fifteen minutes away. Second Street. Lots of dumbasses – you could get a lotta dough."

"You sure? You're gonna stay here alone?"

"I got Ethel and the twins. I'm good, I promise."

He sighed. "Alright. I see you later, princess. Don't go try and find him on your own, you hear me?"

"I won't," she opened the car door.

"Emily! Promise me."

She sighed, looking back at him. "I promise I won't go try and find him on my own. Happy?"

He hesitated. "Good enough. I'll be back in a bit, okay?"

"Yup. See ya," she shut the door, pulling out her key to the motel room. She pretended to struggle with the lock as she listened to the impala pull out of the parking lot and roar off into the distance. Her demeanor immediately changed as she pocketed the key and walked off in the direction of the woods. She walked a quarter mile to ensure her privacy before dropping her backpack onto the ground, her mind already calling out to them. "Well?" she yelled into the night. "Get your feathery asses down here! That means you, too, Gabriel!"

She pause, scanning the area, watching for any movement in the trees. "Balthazar!" she screamed, anger rising in her chest.

"Sweetie…" a soft accented voice came from behind her.

She whirled around, starting into the angel's blue eyes. "Where is he?"

"Em…"

"WHERE IS HE?!" she screamed, a tear slipping down her face. "Bal…it's been a year. Why…why doesn't he…" she broke off, gaze falling to the ground.

She could feel the angel stepping closer before hesitantly wrapping his arms around her. "I know I've never been as good at this as he has, but…he does love you. He does care. I promise. It's just…"

"It's because of me. It's because I – I–"

"You did not do anything wrong; do you understand me?"

She wrapped her arms around him, returning his hug. "But what if I did?"

"You didn't," he said, much softer. "You didn't."

"Emily?" Dean's voice came from the direction of the motel.

She gasped, standing in front of Balthazar in a protective stance. "You're supposed to be at the bar."

"I…I forgot something – Em, what…what are you doing? With him?"

"Dean, it…this is Balthazar," she admitted.

"Yeah, I know," he growled. "Em, come here." His eyes warily started at the angel.

"Dean, what's wrong."

"Ah, your brothers and I are…how shall we say, on barely civil terms," Balthazar said from behind her.

"Last time we met, he used us as a decoy to distract Raphael. Almost got us killed," Dean snarled.

"But I didn't, did I? I would never let you get killed." She looked up at the angel, hurt look on her face. He sighed, "Look, I'm sorry, but I needed a decoy. I knew they could handle it."

"What if we couldn't? What if we did get killed?" Dean yelled. "What would you do then?"

"Raise you back up," Balthazar said matter-of-factly. "It's been done countless times before."

Dean threw his hands in the air. "Wow. Wow. That's good to know, really comforting."

"At least–"

"At least what, at least we're still alive?"

"AT LEAST YOU'VE STILL GOT HER!" his voice rumbled through the forest, shaking the trees. He took a breath, setting his jaw. When he spoke, his voice trembled with barely checked rage. "At least you found her. At least you have her to fall back on when things go bad. At least she's there, you ungrateful swine," he spat. "You have no idea – no idea – what she went through when you abandoned her. You have no right to say anything!" A small shockwave shook the trees around them as Balthazar desperately tried to control his temper.

"And you do?!" Dean scoffed.

She sky suddenly darkened as Balthazar turned to Emily. "Forgive me," he said roughly, concentrating on his words. "I must leave or risk smiting that."

Dean opened his mouth, ready with a smart ass comment, but, with a stroke of his wings, the angel was gone. "Balthazar, wait!" Emily called out into the darkness. "Please, I need your help!" There was no answer this time.

"Em…" Dean said quietly.

"You!" she spun on him furiously. "You…you-you–" She slammed her fist into his jaw, and he stumbled backward into tree. She opened her mouth to say something only to close it again, angry tears slipping down her cheeks. She shook her head and took off back toward the motel, the shocked expression on his face replaying over and over in her mind.

She prayed to Gabriel that night for the first time in months. On her knees, she cried for him, needing him more now than perhaps ever before. She sobbed over him, talking to him for hours. When Dean stumbled into the motel room very early the next morning, he found her slumped over the side of the bed, haven fallen asleep before she was able to get into bed.