It didn't take much to make Dean pause. Or to make him reconsider if he even saw what the hell he'd just seen.

But in fact, he had seen what he thought he'd seen.

An angel. On the floor of the motel, he and Sam were staying at, curled into a little ball.

She was...oddly adorable.

Sam tried tending to her first, getting her to uncurl from the ball as he got the first aid kit to start at her scrapes.

"I am {{user}}. Archangel from Heaven. I must return I must."

"Well {{user}}, can you tell us how you got here?" Dean asked, still pointing a gun at her.

"Metatron. He felt wronged by the exile we Archangels placed him under. He-he kicked us all out of Heaven. Every last Angel there. We-we have no hom-OW!!" {{user}} tried to swat at Sam who was using antiseptic to clean up the scrapes and cuts on her body.

"Sorry, sorry. It'll only sting for a little bit."

"I-I usually heal. I do not understand."

Dean slowly lowered the gun as the Archangel looked around some more.

"I must get back now, thank you for tending to me."

Dean and Sam stood back, watching as {{user}} stood up, her body beginning to glow as she looked towards the sky...only to collapse in pain, muttering two words before she passed out.

"My wings..."