They walked through the main floor of the factory, their footsteps the only sound. The aisles were lined with mechanical equipment; probably an old engineering factory for god knows what. Sam looked around, eyes primed to search out movement of any kind; movement that never came.

He had a terrible feeling in his gut that this was worse than a trap. This felt like they were walking to their deaths, and they were doing so willingly.

"I don't like this." Sam said, breaking the silence.

"Me neither." His brother replied, turning to face the younger Winchester. "But I also don't like having a broken soul." They reached the end of the aisle, and Sam saw his brother tilt his head to one side and close his eyes.

Sam shrugged; he didn't really have a come back for that, he had no idea what it felt like. But he had seen how much he had suffered. Dean hadn't even been able to form sentences two months ago. Now he was motivated by a force that Sam admittedly didn't really understand. Even as he looked as his brother now, he saw a determination in Dean's eyes that had previously been saved just for him. A raw, emotive drive to protect and save. A part of Sam wanted to believe it was some sort of spell that Lirael had cast on his brother; because truly, he had never been sure if he was capable of love for anyone else but his family. Plus, they'd barely known each other five minutes.

"It's this way." Dean prompted, leading through a door on their left.

As Sam followed, he tried to remember what it felt like to be in love. A flicker of a memory flashed through his mind, but he knew he would never be able to think of Jess without seeing her burning on his ceiling. He hoped his brother's romance would end more happily, but given that they were walking towards the most powerful being in all creation, he wasn't sure that Dean was gonna get that chance.

Dean's heart was beginning to pound in his chest. Like a drum, it moved him through the factory, quickening as he felt himself nearing her. They moved silently, and with every step Dean felt better. His mind had never been clearer. It wasn't filled with guilt or remorse for the things he had done, not anymore. And neither did his body feel sluggish or weak, his muscles felt primed and ready.

And he was filled with an immense sense of purpose and longing, a longing that bore deep into the shards of his soul and was pulling him like a magnet towards his final end.

It took Dean a few moments to realise that he was now running. He had no idea what Sam was hammering on about in the background, and frankly he didn't care.

He gave a half smirk, proud of himself for proving that he was more than just your average man-whore. Hell, he might even get a relationship outta this deal. That is, if you can have relationships with angels…The thought wiped the smirk from his face, as he started thinking about whether God would give them the thumbs up on the whole no sex before marriage deal, or if he'd have to marry her first. He winced slightly, but then shook his head, trying to refocus on the gigantic pile of crap he knew he was running towards.

The momentum was building; his chest felt like it was close to exploding. He felt like he was about to burst into song he was so happy, Buffy-style, as he hurtled down another flight of stairs.

Taking another intuitive left, Dean and Sam entered a square, concrete-walled room with a long corridor in the far end. Sat in the middle of the room, was Lirael, tied to a chair. She glanced up at him, pure elation emanating from her.

When Dean's eyes finally met hers he felt his heart nearly burst out of his chest.

"Dean!" She cried as he ran toward her. As he crossed the distance between himself and Lirael, he felt his body completely overcome with the same sensation that had plagued him since he had set off to find her. He felt almost fulfilled, complete even. Dean pulled at the metal ropes around Lirael's wrists and together they had the strength to release her from them. As soon as she was free and standing, his hands were on her face as his eyes searched for injury, but even that simple touch filled him with an unbelievable sense of belonging and vitality. That feeling stopped when heard Sam yell.

Metatron had appeared in the doorway behind her and now grabbed Lirael from behind, pulling her away from him before Dean had even blinked. Metatron's huge hands gripped her by the throat and a hefty laugh escaped from his mouth. "You two really are pathetic."

"Let her go. I'll only ask once." Dean growled, taking deep, slow breaths and clenching his hands into fists.

Sam was circling the edge of the room, trying to get behind Metatron, but the angel barely looked at him before waving his hand. With a simple flick of his wrist, Sam was pinned against the far wall, helpless and still. Metatron had no use for an ex-vessel of Lucifer's. He wanted the rest of Dean's soul on a silver platter, nothing else. No distractions.

"Okay, okay, I'll play, Winchester. You want to die in battle. I understand that." Metatron told him, throwing Lirael across the room. She hit the wall with a sickening crack

With a roar, Dean threw himself at Metatron, sending both of them hurtling through the doorway and hitting the wall at the end of the corridor.

Dean pulled himself up quickly, took a quick glance at Metatron who was still on the floor before running back to Lirael. He didn't even have time think about what he had just done, or how he had done it.

"You okay?" he said quickly, checking her over again. Every touch felt like electricity surging through him, filling him with that same feeling of strength.

And she smiled a smile that made his urgency melt. "I'm fine, Dean."

"Not for much longer, my little Lirael." Boomed Metatron from the doorway.