For a moment the motel room was silent. The girl continued to stare expectantly at Dean. Sam glanced from her to Dean and back again. He cleared his throat. "What do you want from us?" he asked at length.
Amitiel tore her storm-colored eyes from Dean's face and transferred them to Sam. "I need you to contact Castiel."
"Why? So you can turn on him?" Dean accused, motioning for Sam to back away from her.
The girl shook her head. "You don't understand. Castiel is in danger. I must warn him." When neither of the Winchester boys reacted, she pressed her lips together and exhaled sharply. "Listen to me, not every angel supports Zachariah!"
When there was still no reaction, she clenched her fists, her expression twisting. "When Castiel fell, there were twelve who followed him," she hissed angrily. "The others turned on us. Only I survived. I have sacrificed my brothers and sisters in order to help you fight your war, Dean Winchester. Contact Castiel. Now."
Dean stepped backwards from the force of her words. Licking his lips nervously, he glanced at Sam, who only shrugged fractionally. With a sigh, Dean dug his cellphone out and punched in Castiel's number. He turned slightly away from Amitiel, who seemed to have lost her brief spurt of energy.
"What is it?" Castiel's greeting was blunt as always.
Dean hesitated fractionally. "Uh, yeah, hey. We're in Camden, New Jersey, the Gardens Motel. Room 113. Got an angel here claiming to be a friend of yours."
"Who?" Castiel sounded suspicious and vaguely confused.
"Calls herself Amitiel," Dean began, but cut himself off when a light breeze stirred the air, accompanied by the sound of feathered wings. He turned to see Castiel striding across the room, pocketing his cellphone.
Amitiel straightened, her expression softening. She extended her hands toward Castiel, who knelt on the floor in front of her, clasping her hands tightly. Castiel searched the other angel's face, gaze lingering on the bruise spread over her right cheekbone.
"What happened?" he asked gravely.
"I was ambushed," she replied. "I had not considered the loss of power once heaven is out of reach."
"I told you not to follow me," Castiel told her reprovingly. She offered the faintest of smiles in return.
"Since when has that ever stopped me?" She sobered instantly. "We don't have much time. I only barely survived the attack. My former vessel was destroyed, and my power is all but gone. The demons tracked me here. They will eventually find me."
Castiel nodded. "I will eliminate them." He moved to stand, but Amitiel didn't release his hands, pulling him back down.
"Castiel, wait," she said urgently. "They are followers of Belial."
That got his attention. His brow furrowed in thought. "How many?"
Amitiel shook her head. "I don't know. They'll be looking for you. They know we're vulnerable."
"Does anyone want to explain what the hell is going on?" Dean cut in, glaring at the angels. Castiel and Amitiel both turned to stare at him with identical expressions. It was Amitiel who spoke first.
"Belial is a demon Castiel and I imprisoned over a thousand years ago. His followers are trying to free him, but the ritual to release him requires the blood of the ones who bound him."
"If he were to be freed, he would be a powerful ally for Lucifer," Castiel added. "We cannot allow this to happen." He stood, and this time Amitiel let him go. "Dean, Sam, you need to get Amitiel as far away from here as you can. I will ensure you are not followed."
Dean sighed internally. Typical angel arrogance, assuming that the humans would obey without question. The problem was, Dean couldn't find a reason not to. So he nodded wearily. "All right. We'll hit the road, head west. We'll be in touch."
"I will contact you soon," Castiel told him. He looked down at the female angel. "They will protect you."
She reached out again, touching his arm. "Be careful," she said softly. He covered her hand with his but said nothing to reassure her. Then he was gone. Amitiel sighed faintly. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and made as if to stand, only to fall backwards again, her expression tightening. She regarded her bandaged feet.
"Mallory did not tell me she was in pain," she said, her brow furrowed.
Dean gathered up their bags and caught Sam's eye, gesturing toward the angel with his head. "Help her out to the car."
Sam approached Amitiel warily, but she did not protest when he curled one arm around her shoulders and slid the other underneath her knees. As he lifted her into the air, she balanced herself by gripping his shoulder.
As they headed out the door, Dean remembered to grab Mallory's shirt and jacket, removed in order for Sam to assess her condition. The rain had finally stopped, leaving the world wet and glistening. Dean focused on getting them to the highway before he glanced back to check on the girl. She was staring out the window, looking slightly lost.
"Are you Amitiel, or Mallory?" Dean asked abruptly. The girl started.
"Uh, it's Mal," she stuttered. "She's resting."
"How does that work?" Dean asked. "I mean, from what we've seen with angels before, they're not interested in time shares."
Mallory shifted slightly and reached up to rub her temple. "She's really weak. Most of the time she's unconscious. When she's awake, I let her take control because she actually knows what she's doing."
Sam twisted to face her. "What's it like?" he asked softly. "Having an angel inside you?"
She hesitated for a long moment. "It's like...light. She tries to hold herself back but there's so much of it and sometimes I don't think I can keep it all in. And...she's broken. Like bits of glass." She frowned and shifted again. "Mostly it just hurts."
At Sam's expression she hurried on, "No, it's not like that! She can't help it! And things she shows me...it's amazing! I mean, a lot of it is scary as hell, but," She struggled with her words again. "The memories of heaven...it's so beautiful." When she saw that she had failed to convince Sam, she continued in a whisper, "She saved my life. This is the least I could do in return."
"So this Belial dude," Dean cut in.
"He's powerful," Mallory replied instantly. "Really powerful. I mean, really really. If he got loose it'd be pretty bad. Scorched earth, boiling seas kind of bad. His followers have to get hold of Castiel and Amitiel at the same time. Bleed them all over the gate of his prison."
"Great," Dean muttered.
Mallory shifted again, reaching up to feel the bruise on her cheek. She winced and dropped her hand. "Uh...where are we going?"
"Dunno yet," Dean replied. "Somewhere away."
"We could go to Bobby's," Sam suggested. "Lay low for a while."
"Let's make sure Cas has got rid of any trails we could pick up before we decide on a destination," Dean said.
Mallory shuddered suddenly, her shoulders hunching and her arms wrapping around herself. Sam grabbed her jacket and handed it to her. "You okay?"
She took it gratefully, sliding it on with difficulty. "Yeah. She's just—she's worried about Castiel." Her stomach suddenly growled, loud in the silent car. Embarrassed, she pressed a hand over her stomach.
"Aw, damn," Dean muttered. "We forgot the food."
Sam checked his watch. "It's five in the morning. I don't know if any place will be open."
"It's okay," Mallory said quickly. "I can wait."
Dean looked at her through the mirror. "Mal, when was the last time you ate?" he demanded.
She gnawed her lower lip. "Uh...few days? I can't remember," she admitted. "Ami's kept me going."
"Ami, huh?" Dean said. Mallory wrinkled her nose.
"She's got a weird name, okay? I just started calling her Ami in my head and she's never bothered to correct me." Her stomach grumbled again and she grimaced.
"Gas station," Sam said, pointing.
"Good eye," Dean replied, pulling in. "Wait here. I'll grab some snacks."
"Something substantial," Sam said as the older Winchester climbed out of the car. "She'll get sick if she fills up on sugar." When Dean merely waved over his shoulder, Sam yelled, "I mean it, Dean!"
"Thanks," Mallory said softly. Sam turned to stare at her. "For helping me. You don't have to, you know."
Sam wasn't sure what to say. "You're welcome," he finally replied. Mallory looked away, but her gray eyes wandered back to his face. They were suspiciously bright.
"I'm never gonna be able to go back, am I?" she asked. "I was at school, and I think I missed midterms. All of that's over, isn't it?"
Sam couldn't meet her gaze. "What were you studying?" he asked, avoiding her question.
"Nursing," she replied. "Trauma care." She took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes. "But it doesn't matter anymore. This—this is what's important now." Her voice was shaky, as if she was trying to convince herself.
"I'm sorry," Sam offered. He knew exactly what she was going through. She didn't want any of this. But she was caught up in it nonetheless. It would consume her and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
"Me, too," she whispered. She glanced out the window and saw Dean returning with a plastic bag. She immediately attempted to compose herself, schooling her expression. Dean climbed into the car and handed the bag back.
"Sandwiches," he said shortly. "Eat slowly."
She tried. She really did. But after the fist few bites she realized just how hungry she was and she devoured both ham sandwiches in as many minutes. She drank the water slowly, in small sips. Then she curled up in the back seat and fell asleep, completely dead to the world.