Dean paced back and forth behind the couch. The fire crackled in the fireplace at the far end of the study where the three of them had gathered in wait. Its flickering light splashed over the worn leather couches and armchairs and ornately carved side- and coffee-tables. Dean would've turned more lights on but he was worried they'd further irritate Sam's headache. So they were only lit with the light of warm fire this evening and Dean found himself liking it.
Sam was resting on the couch that faced the fireplace directly, a blanket in his lap, hair still wet, dressed in jeans and as many layers covering his upper body as Dean could wrangle onto him. He'd insisted, claiming it'd be better just in case Sam's temperature started fluctuating. Sam thought it was overkill but he was willing to cut Dean some slack.
With the fire going at a healthy clip and the blanket covering his lower half, Sam was starting to overheat. He was about to take his hoodie off when he glanced at his brother and gave up thinking he could do it without being noticed. Sam sighed, displeased, and his gaze wandered to the armchair beyond the far end of his couch. Kevin was just standing there, holding himself with crossed arms, darting awkward uncertain glances between him and Dean.
"Kevin c'mere, sit down," he murmured, making room on the couch by pulling his feet up. He had to remember that while Dean's angry, anxiety-ridden pacing was old hat to Sam, it could come off intimidating to anyone else. Dean had curbed his attitude on Kevin recently which was a very nice development but right now he wasn't even thinking about the kid. He was in his own world where nothing short of an onset of another trial symptom would pull him out of it. Sam idly hoped against that.
Kevin had flinched at Sam's offer but tentatively moved forward as Sam kept his expectant gaze on him, finally gesturing impatiently to the other side of his couch. Kevin nodded quietly and came over to sit down, careful to keep space between them. Sam raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not gonna break, Kevin," Sam said wearily, moving to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"You okay?" Dean asked suddenly and Sam blinked up to find his brother standing still, looking directly at him.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam snapped. Kevin's twitchy nerves and Dean's brimming temper were wearing on him. He sighed, trying to release tension, and glanced at the grandfather clock by the side wall. "When're they supposed to arrive?"
Dean checked his watch.
"Any minute now."
"Okay," Sam sighed again. He let everything fall back into tense silence. Dean started pacing again and Kevin resumed fidgeting with his sleeves. "Great," Sam whispered, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. "Just great."
A few minutes and the trio heard the sound of wings behind them near the library's entryway. They all turned, Kevin rising to his feet as Dean stalked his way towards them. Sam grimaced, registering a dull tone thrumming through him. It wasn't like last time though. This time it was sort of low-grade, less invasive and manageable.
"Finally," Dean grunted as he reached the angels, inadvertently blocking Sam's view of Metatron. Kevin made his way to where Dean had been pacing and stopped, unconsciously remaining near Sam. Sam took the opportunity to peel his hoodie off and stuff it between the cushions. He started unbuttoning his flannel too.
"Yes. I'm sorry, Dean. I was busy collecting items for the third trial," Castiel said, nonplussed by Dean's belligerence. Sam gulped, the blunt mention of the third trial a bigger hit to him than he'd expected.
"And that stopped Metatron from making it on time because-?"
"My grace is gone... well, lessened. I needed Cas's powers to take me here," a new, somewhat eager voice spoke up. Sam squinted and leaned back, trying to see.
"Is everyone here?" Cas asked. Dean moved back and impatiently gestured towards the fire. Sam finally saw Metatron while Cas approached.
Sam had to blink a couple times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Metatron, the angel chosen by God himself to take down His words and edicts, was a small, pudgy middle-aged man that needed dental work and looked as though he smelled like cabbage. As he shuffled after Castiel, his posture hunched, his bearing obsequious, and Sam didn't know what to think in the midst of his shock.
At a loss, Sam looked to his brother who eyed Metatron as he came up alongside them. He was hiding it well enough but Sam could tell Dean was harboring suspicion, even perhaps hostility, towards the legendary yet disappointing figure of Metatron.
Dean's animosity could be from Sam's blackout though, and Sam was willing to bet that'd been an accident of some kind. He wasn't sure though. After Dean had dropped the third trial on him Sam had refrained from asking more questions. He'd needed time to get through the denial stage of things. Dean had helped. They both knew this meeting was their deadline to re-enter reality so now he was interested; now he wanted to know why he'd passed out over those searing vibrations he'd experienced.
"Sam," Castiel spoke, startling him. Sam turned, breaking from his gaping at the angel and found Castiel crouching directly in front of him, looking up with piercing blue eyes. Unnerved by the angel's proximity, Sam coughed and adjusted himself to sit up straighter and farther away from the angel's unique intensity.
"Hey Cas," he rasped.
"How are you?" Cas asked sincerely.
Sam softened. "Hanging in there, you know," Sam whispered, swallowing the small lump in his throat that'd developed from the simple question. Sam hadn't realized how unaccustomed he was to hearing anyone other than Dean show such deep and unyielding care for him.
"Um," he coughed, slightly frustrated with himself. Cas tilted his head, compassion lining every feature and Sam felt the sudden urge to push him away. Castiel had this way of pulling the most vulnerable parts out of him. Dean too. Mainly because he looked at them like he already saw them which, Sam knew, he did. "Really I'm fine, thanks Cas," Sam said, firmer this time.
Sam saw something click in Cas's mind. The angel pressed his lips together, gave an imperceptible nod, and backed up.
Sam sighed quietly with relief and looked around the room. Of course, Dean's arms were folded, standing by the fireplace openly glaring at the two angels. Kevin moved to sit back down next to Sam and Sam found himself oddly comforted by it. Especially when he realized that all eyes had moved to him.
Sam took a deep breath and exhaled as he rubbed his thighs. "Okay. So," he licked his lips, "what's the plan?" It was as good a place to start as any.
"We set out for Shelter Bay, Washington as soon as possible," Cas replied immediately.
"What's in Shelter Bay?"
"A church," Metatron answered. His first words spoken directly to Sam. Sam shifted to the angel and Metatron pulled his hands out of his dirty, rumpled jacket to step forward, his hand out for a shake. Somehow it came off as a groveling, sales-like gesture.
"Metatron," he said, smiling as crookedly as his teeth, "at your service."
Sam moved to take the angel's hand until he came close. The low thrumming Sam had experienced earlier in the hallway was back and on every step Metatron took it was catapulting the volume notches higher. Sam jerked back in pain, pulling his hand away to cradle his head under the onslaught.
"Sammy!" Dean called just as Metatron backed up.
"Sorry, sorry, whoa. Ho - okay," Metatron practically cackled, "That's my fault," he acknowledged, putting his hands out defensively and even daring to chuckle, "my bad."
With Metatron stepping away, the quaking in Sam's head diminished, receding to a tolerable low hum. Sam looked up at the angel, harassed, eyes bright with demands to understand what just happened.
"You're resonating, Sam," Metatron explained, like it solved all their problems. Sam raised an eyebrow, irritated. Metatron straightened, smugly taking his time, enjoying the attention of a captive audience. "You see, you get far enough along with the trials, you start resonating with the Word. Or with its source on the material plane - me," he explained, gesturing to himself with exaggerated grandeur, a satisfied grin, and flushing with such self-importance that it altered Sam's impression of the man.
An inferior with a superiority complex.
One glance at Dean and Cas confirmed his appraisal as they both stared at Metatron with barely concealed disdain. Oblivious, Metatron kept going.
"You see, when we first arrived this morning, I was a full-fledged angel-"
"-but you're not now...?" Sam asked.
"Wait until I've finished," Metatron sniped. Sam's eyes narrowed. "But no," Metatron answered. "No. No, we bottle-and-capped my grace, or as much of it as we could, so you could handle being in my presence," he explained as he pulled a vial of glowing blue light out of the pocket of his dirty jacket. "Of course, normally it'd just sound like a loud ringing in your ears but since you've been dangling like a fish on a hook to get to the third trial, it's causing damage that frankly you can't afford right now. So for the ghost of a chance you have to complete the third trial," Metatron snickered callously, "I've graciously stored my grace so it wouldn't affect you."
"He... doesn't get out much," Cas put forth, apologetic. Exhausted, Sam rubbed his forehead and laughed quietly at the excuse, shaking his head. "The fact remains that the third trial requires this location. The four of you must begin your journey as soon as possible."
Dean straightened, alarmed. "Wait. The four of us?"
"Yes, Dean. Sam, the time between completing the second and third trial was never meant to be this long. You are significantly compromised-"
"Dean told me. It's my only shot to survive anyway though, right?"
"Yes-"
"Hold up. The four of us?"
"Yes. Dean. I cannot take Metatron with me in order to procure the items needed for the third trial when the time comes."
"Why the hell not?" Dean demanded, flustered. Sam noticed Metatron puff his chest out with indignation.
"Because-"
"I can help," Metatron interrupted. It sounded like a whine. Sam could tell the angel thought it a grand declaration though. Dean and Cas begrudgingly looked to Metatron. "I... I can't heal anything with the trials but... but I still have some grace. I can help."
Cas nodded to Metatron and turned back to Dean. "It's true."
"Really? What can you do to help exactly then?" Dean challenged, still looking at Metatron with something bordering on disgust. Sam was sure now his brother flat-out disliked the angel. He wasn't too far behind his brother on that take either honestly.
"He can ease Sam's pain, Dean," Cas began but couldn't finish as Dean interrupted with a clipped shout of outrage before he could even remember to use his words.
"If you think I'm letting you even touch my brother-"
"Stop it. Dean." Cas's heavy voice boomed out, silencing him. Sam shifted in his seat, slightly embarrassed of Dean's protective streak but comforted by it too.
Dean's fury remained burning in his eyes but he allowed Cas to go on. "It is because of Metatron that we know what the third trial is. That we still have a chance. He has risked exposure to the forces of both heaven and hell to help us and he needs sanctuary."
"So he stays in the bunker!"
"No. We need him there."
"Why?"
Cas pursed his lips, the verbal spar noticeably over, his eyes now expressing a helplessness that both Dean and Sam could see but which neither could understand.
It was actually Kevin, who'd remained silent and observant throughout the entire exchange, that glanced to Metatron in time to catch his slow, wide smile spread across the angel's lips.
"Because I'm not going to reveal the final requirement of the trial unless you bring me with you."
A/N: Originally published 7/23/2014, revised 8/18/2019.
Thank you so much for reading and please comment/review if you can spare the time! I really love you guys! ~ Alex