Raphael hadn't used his grace for anything he wanted in a long time. He was low, he barely had any kicking around, but he reached out and stroked Sam's cheek until the bruise was gone. Then his hand went lower, tapping against Sam's chest until the pain left him. It was exhausting to do but Sam was in pain, he wanted to help. All those years and he heard the prayers. Sam wanted him. Sam wanted an angel. He was Sam's angel, obviously, so he was going to protect him.

He didn't really listen to what he was saying, he was more focused on the job. Exhaustion wriggled through his bones and he slumped back, tired but satisfied.

Now Sam wasn't in pain any more. Now he was a good angel.