After Gadreel lent a healing touch to Dean, they continued with business as usual. However, Castiel could see the changes slowly stacking up.

He keenly felt the fear as he watched Dean's spark finally burning down to embers. Like witness to a slow death, he worried he was seeing Dean's brief life come to an end. He hoped they could get the mark off before it consumed him entirely. Before he got too reckless on a hunt and it claimed him. Or worse. Before the mark corrupted him into something entirely unrecognizable.

Dean was losing pieces day by day to the mark. In the daylight, during hunts, he had total clarity, and more than a little lust for violence. Castiel could see the fight getting harder. He and Sam watched with trepidation as Dean allowed himself to slip further and further. Slicing into each victim with just a little more brutality than is required. Taking on just a little more risk than the last time.

Each night however, in the dark with Cas, he was terrified. When he let himself drop the walls, beyond the mask he puts on for Sam. He listened to the deep cadence of Cas' voice, and tried to let it ground him. Took comfort in being held, never having let himself be vulnerable enough to do so before Cas.

The day he killed Abaddon, Cas and Sam had run in right as Dean sunk the blade through the knight's chest. Cas watched as Sam's words finally sunk through. Watched Dean look up, pupils blown and shaking with the high of the kill.

That night Cas held Dean as he thrashed through nightmares, now unable to simply touch his head and send him into a dreamless sleep. It was all he could do to silently beg the hunter, please do not let this be the thing that breaks you.

In the morning it was all smiles and bravado again. Dean whipping up pancakes, and the group laughing and telling jokes, all trying to ignore the gravity of yesterday's events.

A week later, Cas' failing grace just barely picked up Hannah's call. He had to have Gadreel reach out with a response. He didn't have a good feeling when the two hunters and angel accompanied him outside of town to meet with her. And when the four returned home, Sam and Cas nervously watched Dean pace back and forth in the map room. He spared an uneasy glance sideways as Gadreel stood solid.

"So what do we think?" Sam tried, testing the waters.

"About her claims about Metatron or the fact that she's willing to play ball? Because I'm feeling trap." Dean snapped.

Gadreel spoke. "I do believe Hannah is telling the truth."

"Cas?" Sam looked to confirm.

"I do. And if what she says is true, and Metatron is about to start making moves to establish himself as the new God on earth, time may be running short to stop him."

Sam sighed. "With that tablet, he might as well be God."

"We have something that can take him out." Dean asserted, voice low, almost a growl.

"Dean, there's no way you should touch that thing again." Sam snapped.

"This is the only thing we have that can get near taking out Metatron. If you want to sit around here with your head up your ass, that's on you, but me? I'm going to go kill him."

Cas stepped forwards. "Dean-"

"You stay the fuck out of this. You don't get a vote." He turned back to glare at Sam. "None of you do." He threw a look at Gadreel just for good measure.

Sam shook his head. "Alright, yeah, maybe. But Dean-"

"No Sam. We're doing this." He walked to the cabinet against the wall, opening it and removing the blade from where Sam had insisted it be stored. He slipped it into his inside jacket pocket.

"Dean, I'm not letting you walk out of here like this." The younger Winchester pleaded. He stepped in front of Dean, trying to stop him walking up the iron steps towards his car.

"Sam. Get out of the way. I'm not asking again."

"No."

"Sam."

"I'm not letting you go."

There was a split second when the room stilled. Castiel watched with a growing sense of dread as neither brother backed down. He saw the tension snap and Dean moved faster than he'd ever seen. In a second Sam was reeling back from the fist to his face. Dean threw another for good measure, and Sam stumbled back, giving the older hunter the path towards the exit he had wanted.

Sam reached up, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, squinting up at him past the bleeding nose to try and reason with him.

Dean rounded on him instantly. Sam met Dean's knee before he was hauled up into Dean's hands. Cas began running forward, but Dean had already pulled back and rammed Sam's head against the brick tile wall. Sam slid down the wall, leaving a smear of blood behind. Cas grabbed Dean, pulling him off his brother where he was already rearing back to kick him while he was down.

Sam looked after them, dazed and disoriented from the head wound, but his expression betrayed the pain, not from his injury, but rather for Dean.

Cas clamped Dean's arms to his side, dragging the hunter along as Dean fought him tooth and nail to get away. He pinned Dean to the wall, one hand around the hunter's neck, careful not to hurt him, but applying just enough pressure Dean could not resist as he removed the first blade from his coat. He threw it across the room, trying to get it as far away as possible. Dean struggled harder to escape his grasp, like a feral animal trying to survive.

The angel once more wrapped his arms around the hunter, starting to drag him from the room, using a considerable amount of his angelic strength to avoid being brought to the ground with Dean as he thrashed. He looked sternly towards Gadreel, but the angel was already on the ground beside Sam, a hand coming up to heal him.

Castiel practically threw Dean into the cellar dungeon. The hunter braced himself against the back wall and then strode forward with purpose, only to be met with Castiel blocking his path.

"Dean…"

"Cas, move."

"No." Cas put his hand up. "Dean stop. Just stop for a second."

Dean stilled, but his muscles were tense, coiled and waiting to strike. "Cas, we have one shot at this. We're not fucking this up."

"Dean, this isn't you."

"Oh yes it is."

"You just hurt Sam." Cas' voice was pleading, feeling more than a little thrown at how unrecognizable Dean Winchester was at this moment.

"Sam was in my way. Cas there is one thing that is important right now. Finding Metatron, and putting that blade through his chest."

Cas put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Dean, something is wrong with you. Very wrong. And until we figure out how to fix this, you have to stay here."

"Yeah, and what? You two are just going to take on Metatron yourselves? Oh that's smart. Except Sam is fucking mess, and you barely have enough juice in you to keep you standing. I'm the one guy who has a shot at killing that son of a bitch."

"We'll figure it out. I'm sorry Dean." He backed up, grabbing and sliding the bookshelf door shut.

Dean quickly changed tactics, sensing the closing window for escape. "Cas… wait a minute. Talk to me…"

Castiel did not respond, sliding the bolt in place and repeating the steps with the outer lock. He allowed himself a moment to hesitate, leaning his forehead against the closed wooden door, trying to collect himself before he turned and retraced his steps.

Back in the map room, a cracked tile and blood on the wall were all the evidence that remained of Sam's head injury. The hunter was closing a lock box with shaking hands, shoving the packaged first blade aside on the counter. He turned to lean against the table, looking up at Cas as he returned. "Is he-?"

"He is contained." Cas said, voice flat.

Sam closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah… okay. Good." He let out a shaky breath. "Now we just gotta figure out what to do next."

Gadreel looked between Sam and Cas. "I regret having to say it, but Dean isn't wrong. We do not possess another weapon capable of taking on Metatron."

Cas spoke before Sam had to address it. "Perhaps there is another way."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, unsure of where the angel was going with this.

"He is powered by the tablet somehow, to make him more powerful, right?"

"Right." Sam agreed, slowly.

"If we sever the link, Metatron would no longer be so strong. He would be an ordinary angel again."

"Yeah, but how do we sever the link? We don't even know where it is."

Cas thought for a moment. "Hannah. We ask her to get us into heaven. I can find the tablet and we stop him."

Sam nodded. "Meanwhile I'll see if I can track him down."

The plan seemed solid, and the three were on their way to the garage to leave when they heard the crash in the library area. Sam turned towards the sound, Cas following close behind. They discovered the lock box opened and empty, the smell of sulfur thick in the air. Cas turned and ran, checking on what he already knew was true. The cellar was empty. Dean was gone.

Sam was just hanging up the phone from his pleas with Dean's voicemail when Cas returned. He looked at Cas, despair on his face. "We have to find Metatron first. You two go to heaven. Power him down. I can stall."

"Sam-"

"It's the best play we got. Just. Hurry."

In the end though, by the time Cas had managed to break the connection, Dean was already dead. When Metatron said it, it was all he could do to keep from panicking. He let Metatron condemn himself, let the angels come to restrain him. "What do you want us to do with him?"

Cas however was on his feet, a cell phone in hand, seeking to reassure himself. He fought the irrational urge to pace, waiting for the ringing to stop and Dean to pick up. He had to hear from him, had to know that Metatron said wasn't true. He heard the click of the phone, and his body released some of it's tension at once before his heart broke. It wasn't Dean's voice. "He's gone."

He faintly heard one of the angels, Hannah maybe, asking him again what to do with Metatron. He felt the words form on his lips, take him to the jail, lock him up. He looked up and made eye contact with the scribe, and he stopped, registering the smirk on his face. His arm flew before his brain caught up to the fact he was holding the blade currently through Metatron's chest. He didn't blink at the blinding onslaught of light and he only stayed a second to stare at the embossed wings before turning and simply walking away.

.

Castiel stood inside the bunker garage waiting for Sam to pull in. He was aware the hunter had been driving for hours. He knew Sam would need help. Cas didn't allow himself to feel the gravity of this loss yet. There would be time for mourning later. He had already spoken with Kevin, and the prophet was making himself scarce.

The angel spared only a brief thought about his path out of heaven. The hope against hope he had been wrong. That somehow Dean Winchester's soul had made a safe passage to salvation after all. But his search proved fruitless, as Dean's soul had not found heaven.

When Sam finally arrived, he stumbled from the drivers side door, taking a moment to brace himself on the roof of the car. He was already well past exhausted. Castiel would guess that he too had not allowed himself to feel the full weight of Dean's death either.

Cas opened the passenger door, hesitating for a moment. The air was thick with the iron of blood. He wasn't prepared for just how bad Dean looked. Cuts and bruising across his body. Blood washed down his face, and soaked through his clothing. It hadn't been a fast or painless death. That much was obvious. He pushed past it, helping Sam get his brother's body safely to his room.

Castiel stood silently by, giving Sam the room to wipe clean the layers of blood. He watched Sam carefully reveal his face, getting him to look more like himself. He kept his focus on the hunter's movements, not letting his thoughts wander. He frowned when Sam stood back and turned towards the door.

"Sam… please do not do anything hasty."

Sam hesitated, swaying slightly. "I will talk to you before doing anything." He finally relented. He walked out of Dean's room.

Cas looked at the closing door with an irrational feeling of anxiety. He silently pleaded Sam to return, to spare him from having to give in, to feel the emotions he'd been pushing back.

Numbly, the angel turned back to face where the hunter laid prone. He grabbed the chair at the desk roughly, bringing it to rest beside Dean's bed. He coaxed his shaking muscles to relax as he sank down into the chair to pick up the mantle of a bedside vigil.

"Metatron is dead." He started, pointlessly. "Not soon enough of course. But I thought you should know."

Castiel shook his head, finally dropping the facade and letting his composure crumble. Tears worked their way down his face, entirely without his consent. "I promised you we wouldn't let it come to this." He quelled the urge to reach out and take Dean's hand, knowing he would not like what he found. "That we would find a way to get that off long before you died. I was just in heaven… I had hoped…" Cas took a moment to gather himself. "I don't think you are in hell either."

Cas buried his face in his hands for a second before straightening his back out again. "I'm going to have to detail your car...Shouldn't make Sam do it. Your blood's all over the seat." He gave a weak empty smile. "Not that I can see either of us driving it."

He let his head roll back slightly, looking up in an attempt to gain control of the tears. "I'm glad the last time I got to talk to you we didn't say goodbye." He remarked bitterly. Cas felt like in that moment, he sounded more like Dean than himself. "Not that you were even really you." He closed his eyes. "Maybe this really was better. You'd probably say it was. Better to be nothing than to become the monster."

Cas scanned his eyes over the arm where the mark remained. "It wasn't worth it. Your life to take down Abaddon. I don't know what to do now. Watch out for Sam, of course. With my grace the way it is though, I fear it may not be much longer that I am able to do that." He blinked a few times, finally managing to overcome the tears for the moment. "Gadreel stayed behind to help repair heaven. I brought the pieces of the tablet back to Kevin. He thinks he can piece it together, it'll just take longer than the ones before." He wasn't sure why he was giving progress reports on everyone in the bunker. As if it mattered. As if Dean could hear him.

But he didn't know what else to do to try and stave off the choking silence. "A small part of me doesn't want to stop Sam when he inevitably tries to trade his soul for your life." Cas felt the weight of guilt at his words. "I wouldn't let him. Obviously. Sam is my friend, and your brother. But if I had a soul I would bargain for you myself."

Castiel spared one last long look at the hunter's face before he dropped his head to his arms. "I'm sorry." He muttered, though for what he wasn't sure.

He lost track of just how long he sat, head bowed, aware of just how quiet it was. He startled when the silence was interrupted by the slightest of noises. One thin reedy breath. Cas snapped his gaze up just in time to see Dean's eyes open. Black.

Haha, We're in it now. The last few chapters sort of have been sort of rocketing along. We're slowing back down and about to dig into the meat of this.