HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Hey guys! This is the first in a series of oneshots in different fandoms created b/c of a poem a friend gave me once a long time ago when I needed help like that. Anyway I've got 2 or 3 more already typed up so look out for those.

Enjoy!

He watched and felt, and felt and watched. And then watched some more. He could sense the demons rise drawing closer, and yet he couldn't bring himself to stir.

His eyes followed a small child squealing in obvious excitement as he slid down a slide, with his mother's eyes worriedly watching his progress. Down the park sidewalk, there was an ice cream vendor handing off some cones to a little girl who was being scolded for her impatience by her grandmother. Some ways behind them a teenager was wrestling with a mutt on the ground for ownership of a neon green, chewed up Frisbee. And on a bench there sat a collage student on her laptop, popping gum.

It was during moments like these when he could see from both ends of the spectrum.

These mud-children were menaces. Their so-called technology wouldn't do them much good when it really counted. After all, there are some things out there, which are impossible to triumph over.

To be honest, he knew their curiosity would in fact end them; the only ones who actually realized that fact were the Greeks and their woman Pandora. Don't they naïvely say 'curiosity killed the cat'?

And yet, these fragile beings mystified him. He could understand why the Father was so enamored with the humans. They were constantly moving forward and moving on, it seemed like they held no grudges. They were like the young girl receiving the ice cream: young and untaught, and needing a scolding. And these flaws were exactly what made Father love them so much.

A dark, envious voice in the back of his mind whispered that perhaps that was the reason they were loved so much more than his people. The humans were so expressive and open with everything about themselves. While his people were cold and removed, exacting the will of their Father and Creator.

Even the brutish Winchesters were loved. And he was starting to see the reason why. They were a positive force in the universe. Much like that sarcastic doctor on the box-of-moving-pictures.

Uriel felt more than saw the sun sink behind the horizon, and he rose as the air began to cool. He could almost physically see his Grace dwindling inside of him. No matter how well he could sympathize with the humans, no matter how much he was hurting from the rejection of his Father, he knows the earth continues to rotate. And ice cream continues to melt.

Uriel took a last glance around the park and left, his mind already moving onto his next task.

And a few yards away, a young child named Alicia said matter-of-factly to her grandmother, "Nana, there's a sad angel somewhere."

Her nana replied with, "Really Cici? How do you know that?" The elderly woman always took what her grand daughter said seriously, it was the only way to raise a child.

"Because my ice cream is crying for him."