Several thousand words shorter than the last one, and I don't mind in the least. XD

The door to the hotel room slammed, and Sam turned to look at his brother as the elder Hunter leaned against the door with a frown. "That bad, huh?" He asked with a faint snort.

"That bad." Dean confirmed with a shudder. "Find anything out about our target?" He kicked off his shoes and shrugged himself out of his jacket, throwing it onto the end of his bed and plopping down onto the dingy green coverlet.

"Absolutely nothing." Sam replied without missing a beat. They'd been hunting a Demon that had a very specific M.O., and it was really a pain. Young girls were in abundance in any case, but when you added together the common denominator of average weight and height along with blond hair and hazel eyes, they got a lot less easy to find. "But I did think of something…" He added as an afterthought, gaze shifting up onto his brother before he returned his eyes to his laptop.

"If you suggest we call Gabriel down for a chat again, I will punch you." Dean threatened, glaring at his brother.

"No, no, not him…" Sam managed with a chuckle. The last time they'd asked the Archangel for help on a case, he'd appeared in the middle of their hotel room in red silk boxers and a wife-beater with whipped cream perched at the tip of one finger and a smirk on his lips. Dean hadn't forgiven Sam for praying, or Gabriel for answering, even though it had been about a month since the incident. "I was thinking Ariel."

"Oh you've gotta be joking." Dean breathed, giving Sam a look. "Dude, you remember what she did last time!"

"Yes, I remember!" Sam argued back. "But you heard her, Dean, she's a guardian! She's here to help people, to help us, and honestly she's the best option we've got." He glared across the room at him and waited for a reasonable reply that he doubted would arrive.

Dean sighed and threw up his hands, dipping his head. "Fine! Fine. You gonna do it or should I?"

"Dude, I did it last time." He pointed out, remembering vividly the shade of red Dean had turned when Gabriel had appeared in their room. "Your turn to take an Angel for the team."

The elder Hunter shot him a look, but closed his eyes anyway, letting out a huff of air. "Ariel, I'm not sure if this works with you the way it does with your brothers, but…" He never made it further than that, because a faint fluttering of wings interrupted him, and he snapped his eyes open to see Ariel standing only a few feet in front of him.

"Hello Dean." She greeted pleasantly, nodding to him before she turned to look at Sam and smiled at him as well. "To answer your question, Dean," she continued as she turned back to the elder brother, "it works exactly the same as it does with my brothers."

"Except you showed up a hell of a lot faster than they usually do." He pointed out faintly, looking her over. "Why is that, exactly?"

"I wasn't busy. They usually are." She folded her arms over her chest and relaxed her posture, getting comfortable as she continued to stand in the same spot she'd appeared. "Besides, first impressions and all that." She grinned.

Sam managed a faint grin of his own, enjoying her more upbeat personality. It was a nice change from Cas' usual awkward demeanor and Gabriel's over-exuberance. A nice middle somewhere between the two, he decided.

"So," she tilted her head slightly to one side in a manner that mimicked Cas, "what do you boys need from me?"

"We're hunting a Demon." Dean replied quickly. "We were hoping you could help us find it."

She raised an eyebrow at him, her posture stiffening up again. "I suppose I could try… Do you have something that belonged to it? Something that it touched, maybe?"

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, and the younger Winchester found his voice first. "Ah, yeah…" He moved over to the duffle bag that was perched on the bed not occupied by Dean, and rummaged through it for a second before he produced a cloth-bound book. He unwrapped it carefully, being sure not to touch the cover, and offered it to the Seraphim. "This belongs to it, we think… Will it work?"

She held a hand out over it, her skin hovering an inch or so over the cover, and frowned slightly. "It might." She took it gently from him and frowned. "What's he up to, this Demon of yours?" She asked, eyes flicking up and looking at Sam.

"What are Demons usually up to?" Dean asked. "Killing people."

She gave him a look, but moved from her original spot over to one of the chairs and sat down carefully, setting the book on the table. "So you've got a runner on a rampage and you need me to find it?"

Sam spoke up before Dean had the chance, not ready to let his big brother go off on a tangent and piss off the newest creature they'd come across that could smite them where they stood. "If you don't mind." He shrugged slightly, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's just; we want to stop him before he hurts anyone else."

Ariel's smile was soft as she directed it Sam's way and she nodded slightly. "I understand. I'm always happy to help you boys in any way I can." Sam managed a smile, and nodded, and Ariel looked back at the book. "Sam, would you be so kind as to get me some salt, please? I'll need it for the spell." Sam dutifully stood and moved towards the hotel door, and as soon as it had closed behind him, Ariel fixed Dean with a look. "Could you get that judgmental stick out of your ass, please? The last thing I need is a Hunter who's mad at me."

Dean stared at her, confused by the phrase slipping from her lips. Admittedly, she seemed better adjusted to the human world than Cas, but he hadn't been expecting that sort of language from her. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She replied shortly. "I get it, you don't like me because I did something you disapprove of, but seriously, the resentment gig is getting old."

He swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond to that, and finally managed a faint snort. "You take more after Gabriel than I first thought."

She grinned, and the look was so familiar and yet so foreign on her face, that it took Dean a moment to get used to the sight of her lips curling in that way. "Oh, Dean, he takes after me."

The Hunter would have replied, although he was unsure of how to do so, but Sam came back in just then and handed over the salt to Ariel, who took it with a much more subdued smile. "Do you need anything else?"

She looked down at the book and frowned slightly. "Mm, yes." She snapped her fingers and a few other ingredients appeared on the table near her, and she quickly handed Sam's laptop over to him gingerly before she picked up the stick of what Dean assumed was charcoal and began sketching across the top of the table. "Sorry about the mess," she apologized as she continued to draw, "but I promise I'll clear it away once I'm finished." When the rune was finished, she started laying out lines in salt, encasing the rune in a circle of the stuff once the other lines had been finished. "Did the Demon touch either of you?" She asked suddenly, crushing a few of the ingredients and then adding them into a bowl that Sam could have sworn hadn't been there a moment before.

"Ah, yeah," the younger Hunter managed faintly, "he punched me."

Ariel nodded distractedly, pouring holy water into the bowl before holding a hand out to Sam, a knife held ready in the other. "I just need a drop or two." She said as way of explanation.

Sam shrugged, used to bleeding for the greater good, and held out his hand. Instead of the long cut to his palm that he was used to, Ariel gently pricked his thumb, letting two vibrantly crimson drops land on the bowl before she released his hand with a faint smile.

She started chanting, then, the Enochian rolling off her tongue more gracefully than it did when Cas spoke it, and the liquid and herbs in the bowl began to swirl counter-clockwise. She opened the journal, slowly, and placed it open-faced into the bowl. The text glowed brightly for a moment before the whole book caught fire, and Ariel broke off mid-chant, blinking in surprise.

"Is that supposed to happen?" Dean asked with raised eyebrows, looking between the bowl and the girl on the other side of it.

"You boys just never can catch a break can you?" She asked faintly, frowning at the remains of her spell. "No, Dean, it's not supposed to happen, but that's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" Sam asked before Dean could snap back.

"I can't find him, because he's not here." She replied. "As in, not on earth."

"As in dead?" Dean questioned, clearly annoyed.

"I would assume so, yes." Ariel nodded. "But I'll have to do more digging." She snapped her fingers, the remains of the spell vanishing from the table. "Be back in a moment, boys." She smiled and then vanished with a rustling of wings.

"Great." Dean grumbled, running a hand over his face. "Well that's just awesome! Call in back-up and have nothing to show for it. Perfect."

Sam gave his brother a disapproving look. "What do you mean "nothing"? We know it's dead, that's something."

"It's not much, Sammy." He argued back. "And we don't know how it happened, and personally, I prefer to gank the nasty's myself than assume someone else did it properly."

Sam snorted faintly, rolling his eyes, and started looking through his bag for a Band-Aid. "Well I trust her, Dean. I still don't know why you don't."

"Personal preference." Dean muttered, and Sam bit back a comment about a certain southern bloodsucker, instead merely shrugging.

"Suit yourself."

The warehouse that Ariel found herself in was your usual, grungy, derelict sort of place, with poor lighting and metal siding that would rattle like weak lungs in the wind. Symbols she recognized were painted in red over the dingy windows, and the chains that hung from the rafters across the ceiling swayed lazily in the drafts that breathed in through the cracks in the roof and broken windows.

She gazed about for a moment further before she heard footsteps approaching across the damp concrete, and turned to look in that direction.

"About time you showed up." A familiar, lilting accent drifted through the cool air in the warehouse, and Crowley looked less than thrilled to see the girl standing before him. "Where have you been hiding all this time?"

"Oh, here and there." Ariel replied pleasantly, smiling at the Demon. "How have you been, gramps?"

Crowley's whole frame stiffened as he stared at her. "Now, now, Ariel, where are your manners? I thought we agreed you'd stop calling me that."

She pouted, her bottom lips jutting out comically. "But this is your little granddaughter I'm running around in. Shouldn't I be allowed to call you that?"

"Annie MacLeod may very well be the meat suit you decided to pull on, but that does not give you the right to refer to me in such a familiar matter!" Crowley snapped, his voice rising with his temper. "Now if you don't mind I'd like to get this bit of business done with so that I can get back to more important things."

Ariel held up her hands in surrender, nodding. "All on you, Crowley. I assume you got my message."

"I did," he replied, his voice returning to normal, "now do please tell me what a lady like you wants with a miserable little Demon like that?"

"I'm doing a favor for a friend," she replied simply, "and I dislike loose ends, as I'm sure you know." She smiled brightly. "So tell me, oh King, what did you do with him?"

"I threw him back into the dark, deep chasm from whence he came." Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Good enough, or do you want more specific details? I could try drawing you a diagram, if you insisted, but that might take more time than either of us have."

Ariel's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?"

"Because I needed those friends of yours to call you in for help, I needed to lure you out into the light." He grinned sharply. "You're even better at hiding than that little brother of yours."

Ariel raised an eyebrow at him, a frown appearing on her lips. "And why would you want that? I thought we had a deal, Crowley."

"Oh, we do," he agreed, starting to move in closer to her, "I scratch your wings, you scratch mine… You keep those pesky boys at bay, and I keep my pups on a leash." He chuckled. "But given that I am a rather slippery bastard, I'm surprised you came alone." He snapped his fingers, and baying hounds could suddenly be heard in the background. "I did not, however, promise to keep all the other hounds off your tail."

Ariel took several steps backwards, her heart suddenly hammering in her chest. "Crowley…"

"Look, I don't like this any better than you do, buttercup," he admitted with a shrug, "but when the courtiers start to question their king, measures have to be taken."

A patch of siding was ripped open, and Ariel's head snapped around to stare at the Hell Hound that was standing just inside the hole it had recently made. "Crowley, please."

He was suddenly next to her, a hand lightly on her shoulder, and she felt a shudder run through her as he whispered into her ear. "They won't kill you, you have my word, but if I don't rough you up just a little, then I'll have a full-blown riot on my hands." He snapped his fingers as he stepped back, and Ariel saw a ring of flames burst into life just outside the warehouse. Even from this far away, she knew it was Holy Oil burning outside. "Do try not to bleed too much," Crowley added as he started to walk away, the other Hell Hounds tearing the building slowly apart in their frantic attempts to get in, "I hear Seraphim blood is a pain to clean up!"

Sam awoke to the sound of fluttering wings, and he sat up with a start when a soft whimper sounded from the end of his bed. "Ariel…?" He called out softly, aware that Dean would likely shoot them both for waking him up.

"Sam…" A hand suddenly clutched at his arm and the younger Hunter jumped in surprise. "Sam, I need your help."

He fumbled for a moment in the dark, trying to find her as she perched on the edge of his bed. "Here, let me turn the light-"

"No!" She cut him off with a harsh whisper. "No, Sam, leave the light off."

"Ariel, I can't help you if I can't see you." He argued gently, reached over to click the lamp on the bedside table on. "It'll be fine; Dean won't care if you need some…" Sam stopped short as he turned around to see her; eyes taking in the state the Seraphim was in. There were cuts on her skin. Actual, honest-to-God cuts, with blood oozing out of them sluggishly and bruises beginning to form on her pale skin. He could see a bright, white-hot glow of Grace leaking out of some of the deeper cuts, and he felt his heart stutter in his chest. "What the hell, Ariel?"

"I told you not to turn the light on." She muttered softly, not looking him in the eyes. "Let your brother sleep, Sam, I'd rather not wake him."

"Who cares about him?" He asked, moving forward to brush some of her hair away from a long gash near her temple. "What happened to you?"

"I ran into a bit of trouble." She mumbled, still avoiding his gaze, and wincing whenever he came too close to one of her injuries. "I'll be fine, but I need your help."

"Of course," his voice was barely over a whisper as he leaned in a little closer, "what do you need?"

"I need to touch your soul."

And there's that thudding in Sam's head that hasn't left since he got his soul first shoved back in, that thudding of his heart that has nothing to do with the fact that a Seraphim is sitting on his bed, injured, and needs his help. That sudden panic that he'll lose the one little slip of humanity that he has left, and everything will go back to the crazy, bloodied mess it had been back then. Back before…

"Sam?" Ariel's voice is a gently breeze through his thoughts, her hand landing lightly on his arm. "Is that okay?" And with her sudden shift in proximity, he can see the black blood crusted under her fingernails, and part of him is dying to know how it got there, and the rest of him is screaming at him to run like hell and not look back.

"Yeah," he manages faintly, "but that might wake up Dean." He knows how much it'll hurt, remembers in snatches the blinding pain of it from before, knows he'll scream bloody murder the moment her hand slips up under his ribcage.

She smiles at him, and it's a soft, reassuring smile that says everything he wants to hear, all the things he needs to know that she knows, all the gentle reassurances that he never got before. "I can take us somewhere. I think I can still fly."

And it's that word, think, that really catches Sam off guard; that makes him realize she might need this more than she's letting on. "I can drive." He puts in gently, hoping she'll understand the offer and not be offended.

"No, no," she leans in closer and lifts the hand that had been on his arm, "this'll be faster." She gently presses her first two fingers to his forehead, and when he reopens his eyes, they're in a different room of the same motel. "We're just next door." She explains when he looks around the room. "In case Dean freaks out."

Sam wonders if maybe she picked here because she could only make it so far, but he pushes the thought away and decides to focus on not freaking out over what's about to happen. "Alright, so…?"

"You should get comfortable." She motions to the bed next to them, already pulling the tennis bracelet on her wrist off and waiting for Sam to move.

He lies back on the bed and tries to relax, plucking lightly at the thin fabric of his shirt, an eyebrow arching. "Do you need me to…?"

She quickly shakes her head, smiling. "No, no, it'll be fine." She perches on the edge of the bed next to him and gives him that gentle, reassuring smile that Cas could never seem to master and that clashed so very much with Gabriel's entire personality. "Just breathe, Sam, and count backwards from ten."

He doesn't think to question it, instead closing his eyes and steadying his breathing, letting himself relax as he does as instructed. "Ten." He breathes out softly, just to give her a point of reference in case she needs it, and then continues on silently in his head.

He's hit three when it happens, and because he isn't expecting it until at least two, more likely one, he doesn't tense up right away, doesn't feel the burn under his skin and in his veins until his eyes fly open and a strangled scream of agony is ripped from his throat. Ariel's hazy through all the pain that's clouding his vision, but he can see the look on her face, the apologetic expression in her eyes, and he can feel her free hand pushing him gently back onto the bed, her voice whispering reassurances that he can't make out but appreciates all the same.

And then her eyes start to glow, and Sam squeezes his shut to avoid having them burn right out of his skull, and he can feel her fingers touching his soul and it's like having his whole being on fire, each cell wreathed in flame and singing with pain.

He's sure he's screaming, but he can't hear for the blood pounding through his ears.

What happens next doesn't surprise Sam, but he manages to keep in another pained shriek as the door slams inward and Dean rushes in, gun at the ready and eyes widening as the seconds tick past and what's happening actually registers with him. To his credit, Dean doesn't rush in and try to tug Ariel away from his brother, even though every fiber of his being is screaming at him to, and instead merely closes the door, locks it, and lets his gun hand relax by his side as Ariel slowly pulls away from Sam, and the blazing red lines begin to fade from his skin.

"What the hell were you two thinking?" He demands the instant they're both sitting up properly, each slightly out of breath, and looking at him guiltily.

"Dean…" Ariel begins, but the elder Hunter shoots her a look so livid that it stops her before she can say more, and instead she dips her head and hides her eyes from him.

"She was hurt." Sam tells him quickly, before that scathing look turns into anything more violent and Dean breaks his hand across her face. Female or no, celestial being or no, he'll deck her for hurting his baby brother, and everyone in the room knows it. "She needed a boost."

"A boost?" Dean's voice is just under a yell, eyes still hard as he shifts his gaze from her to his brother. "Sammy, she could have killed you!"

"But she didn't!" He snapped back, wincing softly as his ribs throbbed painfully from the shout. "I agreed, Dean, I let her."

And that does it, because now Dean isn't angry, he's downright furious, but it doesn't take the normal form of fury, it's the pinning back of his ears and the way his eyes go just a touch glassy, and his mouth hangs slack that tells Sam his big brother isn't just mad, he's scared. Scared for his little brother because maybe's he's finally lost his marbles again, and this is just the beginning.

"She was bleeding." Sam hopes that fact will help sober up his brother as much as it did him the first time. "She was bleeding, Dean." He repeats, putting the proper emphasis into the sentence. "So get off that high horse of yours and stop throwing a bitch-fit." Dean's jaw tightens, and Sam takes that as all the consent he's going to get before Ariel snaps, and they're back in their first room, back on their beds.

"I am so sorry, Dean." Ariel says softly, finally looking up at him, and he can see there's still a cut on her lip, and a bruise on her jaw. "I should have woken you, and I'm sorry I didn't." There was a world of unspoken connotations in that simple sentence, things Dean knew without having to be told outright, and he finally let out a huff of a sigh and put down his gun.

"Yeah, you should have." He grumbles instead, running a hand down his face and glaring across the dim room at her. "So what the hell happened to you?"

"Hell Hounds."

They both stare at her as though she'd just professed her love for Dean with fluttering eyelashes and actual hearts floating through the air around her. "Come again?" The elder Hunter says, eyebrows doing their best attempt to defy gravity as they climb higher up his forehead.

"Hell Hounds." She repeated softly. "They… Well, they took a nice big bite out of me." She looks at her hands, and Dean realizes that one of her fingers is obviously broken, and another two look horribly bruised. "Don't worry about it."

Sam's snort borders on insulted; and he looks at her like she's the crazy one here. "Seriously? You show up here with a line about maybe not being able to fly, and a story about Hell Hounds, and expect us to just pretend like nothing happened?"

She shrugs, but the movement is overly stiff and Dean almost winces out loud when he realizes that one of her shoulders has been dislocated. "Ariel, you're still pretty beaten up." He ignores the look Sam gives him (Bitchface #6; the one where he looked offended that Dean interrupted him), and continues to stare levelly at Ariel as he waits for her response.

"I'll manage." She says with a tight smile, and that crack on her lip splits open again, and the hand with the broken finger quickly rises to dab at it ineffectually.

"Screw that." Dean grouses, before he closes his eyes and wills Gabriel and Castiel into the room with as much faith as he can muster on only an hour of sleep.

The room is almost instantly filled with the rushing of wings, and Cas actually catches his breath as he sees his sister, and Gabriel looks about ready to level the entire town as he glares at Dean. "What did you two muttonheads do?"

"Nothing, Gabe," Ariel looks almost amused as she throws a half-hearted glare Dean's way, "they didn't do anything to me."

Gabriel's on his knees on the floor in front of her faster than Dean can blink, and he must be doing something with that Angel mojo of his, because the cut on her lips is gone, and the bruise is quickly fading from her jaw. "Then who the hell ruffled my sister's feathers, because so help me, I will end them!"

Sam manages a faint snort of laughter at that, and even Dean has to admit that the wording is fairly entertaining. Ariel, on the other hand, is giving him the softest smile imaginable and giving his shoulder a squeeze with her now-healed fingers. "Maybe later, Alligator."

Dean, admittedly, has to bite back a laugh at that, because really? That's the line she's gonna go with? But then he sees the way it makes Gabriel react, the way his shoulders relax and the iron rod seems to be ripped right out of his spine, his head tipping forward in relief.

"After a while then, Crocodile." He whispers back, and the whole room falls silent as they sit there like that, just sharing each other's space as Gabriel continues to heal her vessel, and Cas stands by awkwardly, looking like he wants to help, but unsure of how to do just that.

"Ariel, your wings…" The brunette finally manages, and the other four inhabitants of the room snap their heads around to look at him.

"Wings?" Sam and Dean ask in unison, completely confused.

"Oh…" Ariel looks over one shoulder at something neither Hunter can see, and frowns slightly. "Yeah…" She paused for a moment before she shook her head. "But they'll be fine, Castiel, don't worry about it."

Cas, however, looked like he wasn't planning to do anything but worry, so Dean decided to jump in before the Angel could verbally fret further. "Why didn't they heal when you got a boost from Sam?"

"Because the damage to my vessel was more pressing. My wings could wait, Annie couldn't."

Sam was starting to look as worried as Cas was, and the elder Hunter decided to simply throw caution to the wind and offer up an olive branch, no matter how ragged it might be from being horded all this time since he and Ariel had met. "Use me, then." Dean could swear he heard the snap of Sam's neck as the younger Hunter turned to look at him, incredulity written clearly over his face.

"That could work!" Gabe piped up before Sam had the chance to do more than open his mouth. "It'll be a rough ride though, bucko, you sure you want that?"

"It doesn't matter what I want," the Hunter grumbled, "what matters is that none of you can just mojo her wings better and if a soul is what it takes, it might as well be mine."

Cas looked as lost as Sam, but Ariel was smiling gently across the room at him. "Gabriel." The name was spoken as a command, and the Archangel obediently snapped his fingers and sent them both into the room Ariel and Sam had previously occupied. "He's right you know," she spoke from her perch on the edge of the bed, "it will be a rough ride."

"Yeah, I know." Even though he really doesn't. He hasn't had people rummage around beneath his ribs before, and he isn't exactly looking forward to it now. "Just get it over with, will ya?"

She nods, patting the bedspread, and inviting him to lie down. "Unless you'd prefer me to do it up against the wall." She chips in brightly when he hesitates, and he gives her a scathing look before he lies next to her and waits, ignoring the churning in the pit of his stomach that's telling him to run like hell.

"So…" But he trails off when she puts her forehead against his, her knees suddenly bracketing his hips, and he has to remind himself repeatedly, as one of her hands trails down his chest, that she's a celestial being and he shouldn't be getting ideas like that about a girl like her.

"I'd like to say in advance that I'm sorry about this." She mutters, and he can feel her warm breath hitting his mouth and chin as she speaks. "But I'm going to make this as painless as possible."

"Look, I might be new at this, but that doesn't mean you have to treat me like a freakin' virgin." He chuckles, trying to hide how nervous he really feels. "Let's just get this over with."

She leans back, looking at him closely for a moment before she presses two fingers gently to his forehead, and he can feel something warm and comfortable settle into his bones. "Count backwards from ten."

He does as instructed, breathing evenly as the warmth floods through him, and he wonders if maybe that's her Grace, pushing its way through his veins and making him feel at ease. Or, maybe…

His thoughts are cut short as he feels her hand sink into him, and he screams. He denies it later, of course, and he thinks that maybe Gabriel sound-proofed the room they were in, because Sam says he didn't hear much, and Dean makes a mental note to thank whoever is responsible for that.

Her free hand holds him down by the shoulder, keeping him from moving. And when he feels her fingers wrap around his soul, brushing gently and oh-so carefully, his eyes fly open of their own accord, and he can see her wings.

And it's not like before with Cas, where it was merely a shadow, this is the real deal, and they look so close that Dean wants to reach out and run his fingers through the brilliant feathers. They fan out from her back, six proud, imposing wings that span the breadth of the room and stretch upwards towards the ceiling. They're glowing like her eyes, and he can't quite tell what color they are, but his fingers are twitching in an attempt to try and find out, and it's only the whisper in his ear that he has to close his eyes that makes him look away.

Sam is sitting on the bed, trying not to fidget, when the fluttering of wings alerts him to the new arrival, and he snaps his head up to see Ariel holding Dean upright with one of her arms slung around his waist, and the other holding the wrist of his arm that's slung about her shoulders. "Cas." The tone in her voice is one of command again, and the Angel moves to help her instantly, taking Dean's weight and moving him carefully to the empty bed. "He's fine," Ariel assures Sam before he's done more than open his mouth, "just worn out."

"Geez, sis, whatdja do to him over there?" Gabriel asks with a wink, but even in the dim light from the lamp, Sam can see the spark of concern in the Archangel's gaze as he glances over at the Hunter.

Ariel, however, throws him a disapproving look and stays right where she is. "Purgatory really took it outta the kid," she manages after a moment longer of silence, "I guess having me touch his soul after all that may have taken more energy on his part than I'd first imagined."

Sam doesn't miss the way Cas' spine stiffens at the mention of that place, but he chooses to ignore it in favor of raising an eyebrow at the Seraphim. "What do you mean?"

She sighs faintly and looks Dean over for a moment before replying. "His soul was… Tarnished by his time there. My Grace touching it cleansed that stain from it, but it took a lot out of him in the process. I hadn't really thought that would happen simply by coming into contact with me." She sent Sam an apologetic look. "If I had known that, I would have suffered through a few broken wings."

Gabe sent her a look that screamed disapproval over that plan, but Sam appreciated the sentiment, even though he probably shared her brother's view on the idea. He didn't want her to suffer any more than she had to, and Dean did appear unharmed, although admittedly unconscious, but his chest was rising and falling in a smooth, easy rhythm, so the initial panic that had risen in Sam's chest had quickly subsided.

Who knew, maybe a little Angel-induced down time was just what the elder Hunter needed.

Dean's eyes fluttered open with a great deal of effort on the Hunter's part, and when they were finally open and focused, he found himself staring up at the ceiling of their most recent flop. He vaguely recalled Ariel popping into their room the night before, and then… And then he sat up with a start, because the memory of six proud, luminescent wings popped into his head, and he needed to know if he'd imagined them or not.

He immediately regretted sitting up so quickly, as his head began to spin from the sudden motion, and a pair of hands landed lightly on his shoulders, a familiar chuckle sounding into the room. "Whoa there, big boy," Ariel spoke softly, "don't go breaking anything."

"Ugh. How long have I been out?" He suddenly realized that maybe it hadn't been only four hours since he'd slipped into beautiful black oblivion, and that might explain the sudden onset of lightheadedness.

"About two days now." She answered after a pause, and merely smiled sweetly at the look Dean threw her way. "I had Cas watching over you, mostly, but I think he started to go a little stir-crazy stuck in here 24/7, so I sent him out with Sam to go track something down." Dean was halfway into a complaint before she held up her hand and cut him off. "At the library, Dean."

He huffed out a breath in a way he hoped conveyed his displeasure over being dumped on a bed for two days. "Why am I not starving right now?" He asked suddenly, realizing he actually felt quite full.

"When I said Cas was watching over you, I meant it in several senses of the term."

Dean stared at her before he let out a faint chuckle and shook his head. "So my stomach's full of Angel mojo. Awesome."

She gave his stomach a very serious look before she shook her head. "Actually no, Cas put one of your favorite bacon burgers in there last… Along with a milkshake and a good deal of fries, and I think that's even a shot of…"

"Okay, seriously?" Dean interrupted, holding his hands up for her to stop. "I don't need a menu, Ariel."

She managed a faint smile and nodded, looking the rest of him over as well. "Are you feeling alright otherwise?" She asked tentatively. "I know it was kind of rough on you during the process, so…" She trailed off, managing to look both apologetic and hopeful at the same time.

"Yeah, I feel fine." He said after a moment, mentally checking himself over. "But, there is one thing I want to ask you about." He waited until she'd motioned for him to continue, and then licked his lips nervously before he spoke. "I… Saw your wings."

"I know." She grinned. "I gotta hand it to you, kiddo, I'm pretty impressed."

He blinked, surprised at her laid-back reaction. It was a far cry from the long, eloquent speech about secrecy he'd been expecting. "Seriously?"

"Not many mortals can see my wings and live to tell the tale." She winked, standing up from the bed and making her way towards the door. "So yeah, that earns you some points for sure." She looked him over one last time, and Dean felt like perhaps she wasn't looking at the surface this time. "Go freshen up, if you want, and then I can take us to the library. I'm sure Sam will be happy to see you up and around."

Dean nodded distractedly as she slipped out of the room, and he got to his feet and moved over to his duffel bag, pulling out a fresh change of clothes (apparently Cas' definition of watching over also involved putting him in pajamas, and he really hoped the Angel had simply mojoed them on) and his toothbrush before shuffling to the bathroom.

He felt weird; he decided as he looked at himself in the mirror and tried to place the strange sensation that was now settled behind his ribs. Lighter, perhaps, or something else equally unexpected and hard to explain. He shrugged off the moment in favor of changing into his jeans, and tried not to think about what was really carrying him to the library as he left the motel room and had Ariel grin and touch two fingers to his forehead.

The last thing he needed was one more reason to over-think things.

So, these are less sequential in the normal sense, and more just tidbits here and there that vaguely fit together. If that makes sense.

Anywho. I hope you're enjoying it, assuming you had the patience to read this far. XD

The song "Pressure" belongs to: Paramore