A/N: Thanks for the reviews & I am sorry for the delay, life is busy, busy.

Chapter VII

"We are not the bad guys here," Sam sighed, pacing around the holy oil. He tried to keep his tone as calm as possible, but he had been pleading with the angel for over three torturing hours now. The medicine that Cas had re-injected as soon as he walked in, promising - though he had his doubts- that it would help his heart and lungs, had taken two hours to get into his system and he had to kindly coerce the angel into sharing while being interrupted with bouts of terrible sickness. Now that his nausea was slowly receding, all his other symptoms were escalating and he was unsure which one he preferred.

It didn't matter much, he had been trained to bite through the pain and do his job, so his illness was not preventing him from convincing Gadreel to spill.

Dean, never good at using tact and gentleness to coerce someone, -he was more the punch you to submission type- had endured a whole twenty minutes with a stoic face while Sam spoke and threw up and Gadreel tried again to divert, before storming out of the room without a word. Sam was convinced that of all the possible outcomes, that was one of the best. Charlie ran after him, hopefully to calm him down.

The movement of the flames in the angel cage made his body sway and he took a step backwards when he realized that his tired and feverish eyes couldn't distinguish the edge of it. The last thing he needed was to trip on his stumbly feet and fall on top of the holy oil, or worse, have his fever miscalculate distances and walk right through it. "We are on the same team, you know that. You fought with us, we want the same things."

"You want me dead!" Gadreel had sat down on the floor, his tone had lost it viciousness and now it only sounded tired and defeated.

"Well, we want almost the same things." He thought. "You killed Kevin, that hurts us, you know how much that hurts us." He wasn't going to lie to the angel, he wasn't stupid and knew him better than anyone - aside from Lucifer, yikes- trying to deceive him was not the way to go. "But I understand why you did it. You need to vindicate your name and Metatron convinced you that he can help you do that. I know what happened back in the garden wasn't your fault. You never meant for that to happen. You made one mistake, one small mistake and they outcasted you, trapped you in prison, tortured you." He let himself close his eyes for a second. It felt so good, the bright light was twisting his guts and melting his brain. He tried to hide his wince and lifted a hand to his temple. A second later, when he forced himself to open his eyes, he was surprised to see watery sweat and not blood on his hand. His forehead felt raw and stabbed. His insides, liquified and burning. "Nobody can understand that better than Castiel and I, right Cas?" He turned to the other angel. "Nobody knows better than us how it feels like to be sorry for your mistakes, to want to make it up to the world. How horrible it feels to know we can't change things." The fever was starting to distort the size of things and he realize he couldn't estimate the distance between himself and Castiel. He seemed close one second and far the next, the wall behind him moving along with him. The holy fire burnt too hot in front of him, while his back was freezing.

Cas had been standing nearby, following his lead like a champ, proving support and an angel perspective whenever needed. When asked he nodded, guilt clouding his eyes. "I know, brother. I know how horrible it feels."

Sam covered his face with shaky hands, blocking the light for another precious second. He wished he could sit down, his legs were already wobbly. He took a small step and his heart pounded against his chest with effort, like someone knocking on a door desperate to get in. Still, he was scared that if he stayed in one place, he would lose his balance. He couldn't stop until he was done, but he would be forced to stop soon. So, he needed to play his chips right. "But this." He pointed at the floor with his index. "Not helping us, that you can prevent. Think Gadreel, how will you feel in a few years from now, after I am dead, knowing that you could have done something to help me but you didn't."

Gadreel, still on the floor, lifted his knees and crossed his legs, hugging them and resting his chin on his left knee. "You have to promise to let me go."

The voice came out muffled and Sam wasn't sure he heard it right. "Eh?"

"I'll tell you what I know. It might not be enough, but at least, I'll know I've done my part. But you, your brother, and Castiel have to promise that you won't kill me."

Burning iron pierced through the back of Sam's skull and he had to gulp not to scream in pain. He could feel his heart racing to his mouth and his chest hurt with all that pumping. He needed to sit down, to take something for the pain. "I promise." He mumbled, trying to find a wall to claim for support. He was about to admit defeat and ask Cas for help.

"I need your brother to promise me too. He is angry, I don't trust him when he is angry."

Sam didn't blame him, angry Dean was dangerous and impulsive. He sighed and was about to ask Cas to go get him. He'd have to wait a little longer to sit down.

As if reading his mind - and sometimes Sam truly wondered- the door opened and Dean walked in, a bottle of gatorade in one hand, a bottle of some medicine Sam desperately hoped would make him feel better, on the other. Charlie followed with a bowl that seemed to contain Sam's favorite Chicken and Pecan salad in one hand and another Gatorade in the other.

"We figured lunch and medicine were long gone," Dean said walking straight to the chair and moving it beside Sam. "And the nausea should be down while all your aches are probably up." He shook the pills in the orange container.

Sam knew he should get angry as Dean eased him on the chair. How could he barge in like that and interrupt him? Worse, to treat him like a five year old that can't sit by himself! But he was so damn grateful to be sitting down. Truth be told, he was not certain he would have been able to aim at the chair correctly the way his fever was distorting his proportions. He was certain he wouldn't have been able to grab the pills that his brother deposited in his hand.

"This ought to help without making you too loopy or knocking you out." He said opening the gatorade and placing it on his other hand. God bless Dean! No, he shouldn't get angry at his brother. He was really trying to help him without patronizing him. It wasn't Dean's fault that he actually needed help, he was just trying to supply it the best way he could. Still, it nagged him. His brother pushed the drink -and Sam's hand- closer to his mouth. He not once looked at Gadreel but asked. "What should I promise? Drink."

Sam obliged and put the pills in his mouth, downing them with a big gulp.

"I'll tell you what I know," the angel inside the circle had stood up, hands clenched and legs slightly apart in a defensive stand. " But, I want you to promise me that you'll let me go and won't kill me."

Dean sighed. "Drink up, Sam, finish it, you are probably dehydrated again after your awesome puking fest."

Sam rolled his eyes and looked up at his brother in the same and only movement he afforded. He hoped his message was clear. "Quit dragging, answer, and stop babying me!"

"Would you rather start with IV's again?" His brother pushed the drink closer to his mouth. He drank but made sure his eyes expressed even more annoyance. "I didn't think so." He looked up at the angel. "Ok, I promise. You better have something good to tell us."

"What about you?" The trapped angel looked at Cas.

Castiel nodded and took a step closer to the other angel. "I have no intention of killing you and wouldn't restrain you against your will if the Winchester brothers let you go."

Gadreel sighed and opened his fists, relaxing his fighting stance a little.

"What about me?" Charlie frowned, looking like a pissed off five year old. "I am not threatening enough? Pal, I am the one that trapped you there!"

Gadreel, looked at her, opening his eyes surprised. Then he frowned confused. "Are you planning to keep me trapped or kill me?"

She shook her head, shrugging, and taking a step back. "No, of course not, but it's rude to disregard me as if I was a non-threatening fruitfly!"

Gadreel tilted his head and gave her one more confused look before replying. "I am sorry." Then he looked at Sam and nodded. "I noticed how your grace was fading, even at the hospital. At first, I thought I could contain it, that I could find the source of the leak and heal it. After a while, I realized it was impossible. No matter how much I healed you, there was no way I could stop it. Even possessing you didn't help. I could keep you alive, but only if I stayed. Eventually, I realized expulsing me would just be a death sentence to you."

Sam had elbowed his knee, supporting his temple with his hand. The pills had yet to have any effect. He tried not to sound as tired as he felt."So you stayed and didn't tell Dean?"

Gadreel eyes searched for the shorter Winchester. "I was going to." Dean glared at him. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you. I know you think angels are heartless creatures but we do not relish delivering bad news. I kept on looking for a way, something that could help and that is when Metatron contacted me."

Dean's face twisted with a bitter smirk. "And you decided that helping him was better than helping us?"

Gadreel glared, clenching his fist again. "I could have left your brother and go back to my old vessel. And he would be dead by now. Metatron knew, from the very beginning. He told me my vessel, you," He pointed at Sam. "Was damaged beyond repair. He told me the trials could not be stopped. That whether he went through with them or not, he was meant to die from the moment he completed the first one. That it was on the tablet, it was a condition to make sure that whoever started the trials really took it seriously, really meant it. It was the ultimate sacrifice and the first and last trial." Gadreel looked at him, he knew he looked pitiful. The angel's expression softened, the lines on his face relaxed and his eyes filled with compassion. "I never wanted you to die. I truly wanted to help you. I hope you know that."

Their eyes met for a second and Sam nodded.

Dean closed his eyes and swallowed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why didn't you tell me all this?"

Gadreel sounded apologetic. "What did you want me to tell you? Metratron told me that…yeah, that wouldn't have sounded suspicious at all."

"No." Dean shook his head in denial. "Why should we believe Metatron?"

The angel's tone continued to be soft. His eyebrows slanted upwards and the corners of his mouth twitched compassionately. "Because he told me before I even asked. He said I would never be able to save him."

Dean took a step backwards, shaking his head and closing his eyes. When he opened them, he looked at Sam in silence for a long time. The pain in his brother's gaze hit his already racing heart like daggers and breathing became difficult. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, focused on his brother and calm his breathing down, the only thing he could do for Dean right now.

Castiel took a couple of steps and place a hand on Dean's shoulder. He shook startled by the touch but turned his head towards the angel. "If Metraton knew that, he might know a way to stop it. There might be some sort of loophole that we are not aware of." The angel said.

Sam closed his eyes and swayed. The clock on the wall told him that it had been four hours and forty five minutes since his last healing. Even if Castiel had estimated that healing him every eight hours would suffice, truth was that five hours seemed to be the most he could tolerate, or at least function for. His body wasn't strong enough to keep him sitting up and the backrest wasn't big enough to support his larger than average back. He couldn't faceplant right now, it wasn't going to help Dean any. He didn't quite know what Charlie had done with his salad, most likely just left it on the floor, but as if reading his mind she stood behind him, placing her Gatorade on his lap and wrapped him in a loose embrace. It wasn't a strong hold, but it was enough to keep him upright.

"So how do we get to this Metatron?" She asked.

A/N: Please let me know what you think and thanks for reading.