Castiel pressed his hands to his cheeks when Dean left the room, unsure of why he was feeling such a strange sensation of jitters and twisting in his stomach. Becoming aware again of the opened book that still draped over his legs, he let out a deep sigh trying to control the sudden irregularity of his heartbeat. He wanted to read more but his thoughts kept drifting back to the soulful, tired eyes that seemed to look straight through him and all that he was. The only pair of eyes that were familiar to him anymore. It made his insides twist, which was also a foreign feeling for him. But they were so full of life, yet empty all the same and it saddened him at the thought of the burden that Dean constantly carried on his shoulders. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, resting his hands back on his clammy cheeks. Maybe a change of scenery would do him some good.
He stumbled to his feet holding on to any stability he still had in his weak legs. It was taking a lot longer to heal from this than he'd hoped. It didn't surprise him though, considering his insides had just been scrambled inside out by Holy Lightning. Why were his brothers always such dicks? He wobbled down the maze of exposed brick and mortar halls, bracing himself on the walls as he went. Reaching for the door handle to the entrance of the bunker, he shoved with all the strength he had but the door remained sealed. He double checked that the door wasn't locked, flicking the deadbolt back and forth a few times. Shitshitshit not again! He stumbled away from the door as quickly as his trembling legs would allow, tripping over his feet like a baby learning to walk. He swore up and down if he ever recovered from this he was going to kick someone's ass and he didn't care who. Cas frantically canvassed the room for something to shelter him, finding an oversized stone table to crawl under. He could hear the thunder claps outside and what he was sure was rain this time but one thing he was sure of, he wasn't going to be target practice again.
"Honey, I'm home!" A voice boomed throughout the bunker, rattling the pictures hanging from the walls. The hidden angel cringed. It oddly reminded him of when they were kids playing hide and seek except not so much now that he was a sitting duck. It was that hopeless feeling that came flooding back to him so eagerly, reminding him of how long he had really been around, well living anyway. Was it one million? Or two? It was all a giant blur that didn't matter. He recalled his brother's mischievous games being like a game of cat and mouse in which case, the mouse sorely lost. "Oh! You're right, this is just like the good old days, isn't it? How fun that was!" Castiel cursed under his breath and tried to force his mind blank. Damn him. He could see the powerful angel now, wandering around in the adjacent room, casually inspecting the surrounding space. "You know, this would be a lot easier for both of us if you, oh I don't know, stopped hiding Castiel." Over my dead body. Cas tried crawling silently to a more hidden space only to jump back at a pair of jean legs and chucks that appeared out of nowhere. He swallowed hard, slowly raising his eye level to meet those ice cold eyes framed by slicked back hair that scowled at him. He tisked and rolled his eyes before grabbing Castiel's arms, yanking him to his feet. Cas grunted from the pain and lolled his head back before regaining enough strength to straighten himself out. "You're looking rough, little brother." Cas squinted and spat out a frail snarl, "Yeah, no thanks to you." Barachiel grinned deviously. "What can I say, I get carried away sometimes. Let me help with that." Castiel cringed in anticipation for another round of searing pain, but it never came and he opened an eye. "What? How–what?" Cas was so confused that was standing on his own, pain free. The bewildered look on Cas' face made Barachiel's grin turn into a wolfish smile. "You're welcome." He tapped his fingers together like a wave, sparking blue electricity that rolled up and down with the motion. "I'm afraid I don't have a lot of time to spend here. I'm a wanted man you know." He chuckled to himself. Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, he tilted his head and suggested, "Shall we?"
Before Cas could ask what he meant, another searing pain shot through him, paralyzing him as he hit the floor, only they were back in the dreadful place they spoke last. He clambered to his feet, angrily brushing off his clothes. "It really isn't necessary that you kill me every time you want to talk, Barachiel. I was perfectly fine before you–" Barachiel was on him in an instant and pushed a finger against Cas' lips, shushing him with a narrow stare that made Cas squirm. His mind began to spin, thinking back to the boys. They would surely be home soon and he couldn't have Dean find his lifeless body heaped on the floor. It would devastate Dean. He couldn't do that to him again. Not now. Barachiel sneered, stealing him away from his thoughts. "Castiel, for God's sake stop worrying about your boyfriend. I promise I'll have you back before you can say 'I do.'" He crowed at Castiel's perplexed expression that begged his questioning of what so many people always mentioned to him. He couldn't understand how nobody realized that he and Dean were not romantically involved. Barachiel shook his head, hiding the gloomy, reminiscent gaze that quickly left as soon as it his overcame his brooding features, reminiscing back to when he too had fallen for a human. Quite literally, too.
With no warning, Barachiel whirled around on his heel and clapped, sparks of lightning escaping wildly from his hands. The sight made Cas flinch. "Right! So, baby brother! Tell me, what does shutting down all of Heaven mean to you?" Cas cocked his head to the side and squinted. "I've heard stories but I've been told it isn't possible." Barachiel turned back around to study the confused angel and tisked again, bopping Cas on the nose with his index finger. "Yes. Well, not exactly. Well, no. It's a load of horseshit. You see, you have to complete a series of tests to do this and the only way to do it is if you're the scribe of God. Follow? Good." He was speaking so fast, Cas had to really try to concentrate. "The reason you're here and not out there with the Winchester's right now is because I think something terrible is going to happen if it isn't dealt with. And guess what, bucko, you're the only one who can stop it." Cas furrowed his brow. "I don't understand what you mean. You know I can't go back to Heaven, they'd slaughter me." Barachiel sighed dramatically, rolling his big eyes. "Don't be so foolish, Castiel. I didn't say you're going back to Heaven did I? No, of course not. Just think of it as being a messenger pigeon." Cas gave him a scathing look and growled, "I am not your errand boy, you ass. Find someone else." Barachiel gave him a look of disdain. He knew Castiel wouldn't be an easy one to persuade but he had to try. "Oh, come on. Don't make a desperate angel beg, Castiel. Just hear me out." Castiel slouched, reluctantly agreeing to listen to his certifiably insane brother.
"Good. Great! Right, so to make things as simple as I can for your wee little brain to understand, as you already know a long time ago Metatron left Heaven seeking refuge on Earth like the lot of us during the Rebellion all the while keeping his guardian Seraphiel at arm's length. During the Rebellion, Seraphiel and I had a bit of a confrontation and let's just say he's wanted my head mounted on the Staff of Moses for a long time. Jolly fellow, that one is. Anyway all these years, I've stayed in hiding–running for what felt like millennia." He wiped his hand across his face and Cas could see anger forming across his strong features, but he wasn't about to ask him about it. "Metatron is planning something big, Castiel and I can't get close enough to him without Seraphiel trying to send his troops after me, as you so conveniently walked right in the middle of." Cas pursed his lips and glowered at how nonchalant Barachiel was for killing him not once but twice now. Barachiel became quiet and said in an almost desperate whisper, "you have to understand if they kill me Castiel, all the angels are at risk, including you and without the angel tablet, son you're pretty much screwed."
Cas buried his fingers and gripped at his dark hair, trying to hide the frustration he that hit him like a Mac truck. He felt like a failure, and for what? Crowley had the Angel Tablet, Naomi would surely kill him if she got the chance, and then there was Dean. He had let him down so badly that it hurt him just to think about it. The one person who had been there through everything and never gave up on him; Cas owed him everything he had left. He could see clear as day, when he lied to Dean about the souls and letting the Leviathan loose on the human race, when Dean pleaded for him to leave Purgatory, not to mention when Naomi tried to make him kill Dean by his own sword. He always left Dean and Sam to clean up mess after mess without a single thought. His heart sunk, feeling as if it were shattering into a million tiny pieces. He had to make things better. There was no other way.
Barachiel coughed, catching the drifting angel's attention and continued. "As I was saying, I can't get close enough to warn Naomi about Metatron because Seraphiel is her right wing man. That's where you come in. I need you to have a little chat with Naomi and try to convince her of the information I'm giving you." Cas gave him a long hard look before responding, "How can I trust you? For all I know you are just lying to me." Barachiel jerked his head sharply, looking up into the endless void above. It startled Cas when he cut him a piercing look and grinned. "I guess that's just something you're going to have to decide for yourself, now isn't it? But I'm afraid that's all we have time for. Remember, Metatron must be stopped. All of our lives depend on it." Barachiel smiled at him again, poking him in the forehead with his fingers. Cas scoffed. He was getting sick of being jerked around between life and death and was more than positive that he did it for fun. He closed his eyes at Barachiel's touch, awaiting the nauseating journey back to his vessel.