Story Note: This takes place in late season nine, when Metatron makes a trade with the boys: Castiel for the return of Gadreel. It then deviates from the established story to pursue the author's whimsical storyline. This is not meant to follow canon, but to build an individual story separate to the established narrative borrowing the characters as they are known.

Heaven's Once Discarded

Sam always sat shotgun, but he wouldn't have minded the back seat this time around. The drive was somber, and the Impala's engine growled with an impatience that etched itself dutifully in lines settled in its driver's face. Dean drove with his knuckles white on the wheel, his countenance one of barely controlled frustration. Sam was used to long drives with stony silences, and often employed them to good use, basking in the quiet when his thoughts would for once not be questioned. But he also knew those silences that were far more accusatory, with the same angry edge that forced one to turn inwards in doubt and blame, and as he lifted his eyes to the rear- view mirror, he knew that Castiel was withering under Dean's oppressive disappointment. He was taking it very much to heart.

Tapping his knee in impatience, Sam shot his brother a warning glare. Dean was not always sensitive to the struggle of those around him when he felt that he had lost something or deserved to gain more. He was even less agreeable when he felt himself at fault. Sam understood this, and had grown to abide by these moments, keeping a polite distance from Dean to leave him with his thoughts. He understood that the loss of Gadreel and Metatron's smug reveal of superiority had left his brother reeling, and that he was frustrated at his loss of leverage. Castiel understood this also, as his subconscious squirming in the back seat confirmed. The worn angel could not sit still. His eyes were downcast and his head, when it wasn't tilted towards the window, rested down on his chest. His hands lay in his lap, grasping at each other, looking for purchase in his solidity. When he raised them, it was only to rub at the seat belt, as if it was the only thing keeping there. Sam knew that Cas wanted to stay, and that he was not looking to run again. But he worried as he observed the angel fall farther and farther into what seemed to be despair. He cleared his throat –

"I'm sorry" the voice was a gravelly whisper.

Sam stopped himself from immediately responding. Instead, he cleared his mind and met Cas' eyes through the mirror, "For what?"

"For losing you Gadreel, he is far more useful to you than I."

"Cas, it's not your fault. We don't need –"

"But is far more than that" Castiel continued. "It has already been established, but I wish to address it again. I am the reason for Metatron being as he is now. I don't know the source of his new found power. But it was my folly that gave him the place to find it. I'm s –"

Dean snorted in the front seat and shook his head. Sam turned to him in confusion before turning back to watch Cas sink farther into his seat. The poor angel had no need to apologize, and had only been endeavoring to do the ultimate good for his people, and yet he was afraid suddenly in his brother's presence.

"You need to can it on the constant apologies" Dean insisted roughly. His voice was flat, and his jaw set. He kept his eyes focused on the road.

Castiel balked at this, much to Sam's amazement. He had not seen the angel break under far greater circumstances, and his sudden pliability unnerved him. "Dean, I did not intend to anger you. Nor do I mean to disappoint you, as I know I have done previously, and have once more done again."

"Cas, buddy, come on. It's alright. Dean's not –" But Sam was soon cut off with a glare from Dean.

"It's not alright. But for once I won't blame the fallen angel. I'm pissed. But let's keep it focused on Metatron. Shut up and let me drive." His words were broken by his tiredness, but delivered harshly. The last line a barking command that silenced the passengers for the remainder of their journey to the bunker.

Cas kept his head down, shoulders shaking slightly as the car traveled on.