A/N: I'm so sorry I've been falling behind on publishing new chapters. School has been crazy, but I promise I will try to be better! Hope you enjoy 3
The plan was simple; at least that's how it started out. Cas sent the boys off in hopes of finding Metatron again, which wasn't easy to begin with but they all agreed that fooling him into "helping" them with the Trials was their best chance of getting close enough to stop him. It had taken Dean a few precious, aggravating weeks, but he finally got his baby back up and running in mint condition. Cas offered to help, but he realized that he was only hindering Dean, though he found he was useful enough to lift the car since they were short a jack. So there was always that.
Dean leaned against the polished hood, fiddling with a leave that fell on the hood of the Impala. He glanced up long enough to see the familiar trench coat whirling around as the bunker door squealed shut. Dean was worried about letting the angel out of his site, but what other option was there. He offered to drop Cas off at a nearby town before heading out with Sam to find Metatron. Cas still wasn't strong enough to transport himself, so he gratefully took up the offer–especially leery of every black cloud that floated above them. The last time he tried to teleport he crash landed in the middle of a lake, which was very unpleasant. All the years Cas had been around and yet he still never swam before. By the time he got to shore and back to the bunker night had fallen and he was soaking wet. Why humans enjoyed this was beyond him. He concluded swimming was a terrible way to pass time.
Cas prayed to Barachiel as they were driving silently down the road, telling him vaguely of his plan knowing that anyone could be listening in on what Dean and Sam called 'angel radio'. That still baffled him. The silence broke with the sound of Dean's voice drowning out his thoughts. "Cas, you call me if anything happens at all and I'll be there, alright? I don't care if it's because you stubbed your toe, just… call." Cas rolled his eyes, but tried not to let it show that he was getting annoyed by Dean's incessant worrying. He could see Dean was clearly apprehensive about leaving him behind and he didn't want to stir up anything by dismissing Dean so he nodded instead.
The pair got out of the car hesitantly, Cas absorbing the surroundings before turning back to Dean who had the trunk propped open with his favorite sawed-off shotgun. Summer was coming to an end and cold, damp rain was moving in to take its place. The tree lined street was deserted except for the occasional jogger or passing car. He handed Cas his archangel sword that he stowed away when Dean found Cas bleeding out in the middle of the road. "Well… I guess you don't need anything else then." Dean shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and trained his eyes on the ground, his body tense with discomfort. "Dean, I'll be fine. I promise." He moved closer to him so he could pull his sagging chin up gently, holding his green eyes with revere. Dean searched the angel's face before pulling him close to his body, wrapping his arms around the angel who mirrored the embrace. His voice was faint, muffled by the dark brown, overgrown hair, "Good, because I could get used to this." He nuzzled his face in the angel's hair briefly with a deep sigh before turning back to get in the car. Cas stood like a statue as he watched the black Impala roar off down the empty road, leaving him behind to start his mission.
He wandered aimlessly around the streets until he found an abandoned lot, double checking that there were no people around to see him. He knelt to the ground and closed his eyes, praying harder than he ever had before. Naomi, if you can hear me… I need you to listen very carefully. All our lives are at stake here. He paused, hoping to open his eyes to see her standing before him, but it was just him squatting awkwardly in the middle of the eerie looking lot with old, unkempt buildings encasing it. Look, I know you have no reason to listen to me and quite frankly, the last place I want to be right now is here, possibly signing my death warrant. All I'm asking is five minutes of your time. So please, I'm begging you Naomi. Cas opened his eyes to see nothing and growled impatiently. He had been foolish enough to believe that there was a slight chance this would work. He took away the one thing she wanted most and then lost it to Crowley's slippery hands, so really–why the hell would she even come. A big part of him hoped that she wouldn't just for the mere fact that he was terrified of what would happen if she got her claws on his mind again. He shuddered at the thought. Please.
He got up, wobbly from the stance he was in and started back down the road, feeling defeated when he heard a flap of wings behind him. He swallowed hard and slowly twisted his body towards the noise, seeing Naomi standing in front of him with two of his younger brothers behind her with their arms crossed stiffly. "I didn't think you would show up." He straightened himself out with gumption. She scoffed and turned her head away from the fallen angel. "What is it Castiel? I don't have all day, so start talking." Castiel grumbled inaudibly before speaking up. "Okay. This is going to sound insane, so try not to kill me before I can get this all out…" He wanted so badly to high-tail it out of there, but he pressed his luck and continued on. "A few weeks ago I was struck down by Holy Lightning." Naomi opened her mouth to say something but Cas swiftly held up his hand. "Just… let me finish." Naomi clamped her mouth shut, eyes narrowing instead. "I know, I thought Barachiel was dead too. Everyone did. But back to the Lightning… turned out he struck me down so he could talk to me in private. He told me things. Things I couldn't just shrug off." His focus flicked to the two angels standing like statues. "Do they–" She cut him off, hissing, "yes, Castiel. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of them." He shrugged weakly. "In his time of exile when we all thought he was dead, he'd been keeping tabs on Metatron and all the other fallen angels that had dropped off the map." He noticed her interest spiking and smiled inwardly, taking full advantage of the opportunity.
"He found out some bad things about Metatron. Naomi, he said Metatron has been working on a spell to shut down Heaven. That means kicking every single angel out of Heaven, including you. He is incapable of doing such a thing alone, but with Seraphiel… it's completely possible to destroy everything we've fought and died for. Whether this is the truth, whether you believe it or not, you need to be aware of it. I won't stand around and watch while Heaven gets destroyed. I don't want any more blood on my hands."
Naomi turned away from Cas and paced silently, stewing on his plea. "If it's any consolation, I'm trying to relocate Metatron as we speak, perhaps we can use him to our advantage in the meantime." She turned back to Cas, her face bitterly stone cold. "You do realize even if this is the truth, Seraphiel is one of the most powerful angels still alive and to force him to stand down… that would take a small garrison. Which we're limited on, thanks to you." Cas lowered his gaze to the ground. He knew there wasn't much to go on. "But," her voice lowered so the other angels couldn't hear, "I do know of someone who can." She grinned deviously, making Cas feel like he just committed a crime. With a snap of her fingers he was alone again in the abandoned lot. The place was starting to creep him out so he started walking, blowing out air as he went. He pulled out the cell phone Dean gave him from his coat pocket and fumbled with the buttons to dial the only number he had memorized. "Hello? Cas… you there?" He could barely hear the muffled sound of Dean's voice over the static. "Yes, I'm here. It's done." He realized he was almost shouting into the phone, trying to sound louder than the static. "O–ok. You feel… up to meet… us?" Cas sighed. What choice did he have? It was that or wait the night out in a strange, old town.
He closed his eyes, instantly crashing to the floor, rolling around in agony. Firm hands gripped his wobbly arms, heaving him back to his feet. Cas attempted to support himself, only to have his legs buckle under. He instinctively grabbed a fistful of Dean's shirt, letting his dead weight sag against the hunter's supportive arm. This seemed to be becoming a regular habit and the thought made Cas cringe. He mustered up enough strength to lift his head, seeing Dean watching him endearingly. His green eyes flickered, unable to look away from the angel's arresting stare. Cas could feel uneven breaths tickle at his skin, the feeling forming a pit in his chest. He was starting to become more familiar with the feeling and understood now that it was nerves that made his chest flutter. Their faces were close enough that Cas could count his every freckle, every eyelash, every little scar. He delicately brushed his hand against Dean's cheek, the hunter leaning into his touch, pulling Cas tighter with the curve of his body. Dean dipped his head down, their noses pressing together, breath hot on their skin, their lips brushing softly. He pulled the angel's face in, kissing him hungrily, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt dizzy from the sensation, the release from so many years he built up denying himself. Cas drew away to look at him, his eyes consuming the hunter's blurry face. "Dean, I–" He was interrupted by the click of a door handle and Dean's suddenly tense body. He walked Cas over to set him slumping down on the bed as a surprised Sam walked in with dinner and beer.