Annabel watched from the back seat of the Impala, only occansionally glancing out at the ever-lightening country-side. The sun was slowly rising to the east, hearlding the coming day.

She hated the dawn;it weakened her powers that were normally at their peak around midnight. It also woke sleeping humans, a thing had brought countless arguments between herself and Michael: Humans rested at night, and played and worked during the day. 

Earlier on, Zacariah had, undoubtibly working on Michael's orders, had told the Winchesters-Sam and Dean-that she was not exactly who she claimed she was. She was, however, the Archangel Annabel, and was working hand and glove with Lucifer. 

Dean had reacted with some surprise. He had had an archangel up his sleeve; he could have used her help in the first incounter with the Devil. 

It was Sam's reaction that had scared her the most. He looked like a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. 

It wasn't my fault! She wanted to yell. I haven't even seen Lucifer since he fell millinia ago!

She had sighed and nodded. "Although I want to smite him where he stands, Zachariah is right." The other angel gave a self-satified smirk. "However," The smirk died, "I am not, and wil not be working for, nor with Lucifer. My loyalty is to Father and Heaven alone." 

So, there she sat, seemingly alone in her problems, and the fact only made things worse. She had more to get off her chest, but didn't know how to say it.

"There's more you need to know..."