To simplify things, I have not marked each place where Castiel speaks for Sam. Unless it's obvious otherwise, assume Castiel repeats everything Sam says for Dean.

The snark is a little low in this chapter. They are discussing important things and it didn't seem right that Sam would be snarking his way through it. The snark will be back in the next chapter.

Chapter Five

They didn't speak much on the drive back to the bunker. Even Sam was quiet, humming to himself stretched out on the backseat. Castiel was thinking about Hannah and what had happened. Judging by Dean's tight grip on the steering wheel and clenched jaw, he was doing the same.

Castiel was disappointed in his family's reaction to Dean. He had expected a little static, but for Hannah to refer to her command to kill him was low. Their reactions to Sam were expected; he'd heard Sam's name bandied about on angel radio, and they had been full of admiration. Their offer for Sam to join then and abandon his brother was laughable. The ties of Heaven used to run deep before the fall and war, but they were never as deep as those between the Winchester brothers.

Castiel had heard Sam's threat to Hannah, and it had pleased him to see the flicker of fear in her eyes. There was no doubting Sam meant every word of it, though he wasn't quite ready for something like that yet. He had excelled as a ghost already, focusing his mind enough to imitate touch, but he had only been a ghost for a handful of days now and it would be a while before he could combat an angel. Not that Hannah could physically do anything without the use of iron or salt; there were no angelic abilities specific to ghosts. That was what made his threat intimidating. He had nothing to lose physically.

Sam disappeared from the backseat as they approached the bunker entrance, and Castiel wondered where he had gone. The question was answered when they got inside. He was standing by the counter and there was a glass of whiskey poured and ready.

Castiel raised an eyebrow. Only the day before, Sam had been knocking the glass out of Dean's hand.

"He needs it," Sam said with a shrug. "Especially after what uber bitch said."

Castiel nodded.

Dean spied the whiskey and he grinned. "Now you're talking, Sammy!"

Sam crossed the room and pulled out a chair at the table, an unspoken request for them to join him. Dean did, taking the seat beside Sam's and sipping at his drink appreciatively. Castiel sat opposite them and steepled his hands under his chin, waiting for Sam to speak, but it was Dean that spoke up first, looking apologetic.

"Cas, I'm sorry."

Castiel frowned. "For what?"

"For losing you the angel brigade. If I hadn't… well, you know, you'd still have your army to help out."

Castiel shook his head. "None of it was your fault, Dean. I was the one that abandoned the cause for my own reasons. I feel no guilt for that choice and I feel no remorse for losing my followers. I never wanted to lead them anyway."

Leadership had been forced upon him because of the lack of anyone better. He had never wanted that. He had proved in the past that he was not a suitable leader. The result of his attempt to lead had killed many angels and humans, and he'd almost sent the world careening towards its end with the leviathans. For the first time since he had joined Metatron in what he believed were angel trials, he felt some measure of peace. It wasn't complete, the people he cared about were suffering too much for that, but it was close.

Sam eyed him curiously and then nodded. "Dickish angels aside, we've got a problem. With your army on side, we had a better chance at getting your grace back. Now we're back to doing it for ourselves. Metadouche is the only clue, and while they're questioning him with tea parties and pillow fights, we're not going to get anything out of him. Besides, even if they did manage to break him with their 'killing him with kindness' plan, I don't trust Hannah to keep us in the loop."

"I do not believe she would keep me from my grace," Castiel said. "That is not what angels do."

"It's not what angels did," Sam said. "They're different now, Cas. They're even bigger assholes than they ever were, Uriel included."

Castiel frowned as he shared Sam's words with Dean. He didn't like to think of his family in those terms, but he couldn't deny they had lost their way since the fall. The fact many had chosen to fight other factions was disappointing. He couldn't help but long for the days when their Father was there to guide them, when protecting humanity had been the mission.

Dean nodded thoughtfully. "I agree with Sam. We can't trust them. We need to get your grace back on our own, and we need to take out Metatron ourselves. It's the only way we can be sure it's done right."

"I understand why you would want to kill Metatron, Dean," Castiel said. "He did something terrible to you as well as all angels, but he—"

"You think this is a revenge for me gig?" Dean asked, incredulity in his tone.

"Isn't it?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "No, Sammy. It's a revenge for you gig. Not just you, but for Kevin and Cas and every other person he screwed over. Thanks to him, you and Kevin are trapped. Cas is running out of juice and every angel that dies means a human dying, too. The blood on his hands…" He shook his head. "This isn't about me. I did that to myself. This is about giving him what he deserves."

"I get that," Sam said. "I do, but you've got to think about the consequences, Dean. I went after Lilith out of revenge, and it almost ended the world. You went after Metatron, and it killed you. He needs to die, but maybe he shouldn't. Jail might be the safer option."

Dean's eyes bugged out as he listened to Castiel repeating Sam's words. "You're kidding me, right? You think jail is the answer. Why don't you want revenge, Sam? He trapped you here. He killed me. He killed Kevin. You've got to be pissed at him!"

Sam closed his eyes, seeming to summon patience. "I am pissed. I want him dead for what he did to you and Kevin, but I can't let myself feel that. I can't let myself get lost in the anger. Look at Bobby. He didn't want to be vengeful, he thought he had it under control, but thanks to his anger at Dick, we lost him again. I don't want that to happen to me. I don't want to be something you have to hunt."

Castiel watched Dean's reaction as he spoke. He knew Dean hadn't considered the possibility of his brother becoming vengeful because he had faith in him, faith in Sam to be strong, but he'd had faith before, and it had been misplaced. Though he had been manipulated by angels and demons alike, Castiel himself included, Sam had almost ended the world in his quest for revenge. Castiel couldn't allow that to happen again. They could not go into this for vengeance, and they could not let Sam lose himself to rage. That would perhaps be even more tragic than his death.

Dean shook his head. "Okay. We'll stow the Metatron decision for now. It's not like we can get at him anyway, with him locked up tight in Heaven. We've still got to get Heaven open though. How the hell are we going to do that?"

Sam turned to Castiel, light of realization in his eyes. "Cas, can you speak Elamite?"

"Of course," Castiel said. He could speak every language ever spoken now or in the past. How else would he understand prayer? "Why are you asking?"

"Kevin translated the tablet into Elamite cuneiform," Sam said excitedly. "We've got all his notes. Maybe you can read it for us."

Castiel shook his head sadly. "I cannot."

"Why not?"

"Because though it is translated, it is still hidden from my eyes as an angel. The tablets are not for angels; they are for prophets."

"But we could read his notes," Sam said. "It's how we worked out where Metatron was in the first place. And Crowley read a piece."

Castiel smiled fondly. "That's because you are human. And Crowley, corrupt as he is, was once human, too. The protections God put in place are for angels."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I get that he's your dad and all, Cas, but he didn't exactly make things easy, did he?"

"Did your father ever make things easy, Sam?" Castiel asked.

Sam shook his head. "I guess not."

Dean groaned. "Cas, you want to explain what that was about and what it's got to do with our dad?"

Castiel realized he'd forgotten to include Dean in their conversation, and he felt abashed. It must be difficult for Dean to be separate from their talks, especially as they involved his brother. He gave Dean an abridged account of what had been said.

"So you can't read it and the one person—other than Metatron—that can is currently trapped in Hell," Dean said. "Awesome."

"Not forgetting Crowley said it was irreversible," Sam said bitterly.

"Oh!" Dean clapped a hand to his forehead. "Hold up. I remember something. When I was a, you know, Crowley and I spent a lot of time together…" That was not new information. They'd largely been able to track Dean because of Crowley's presence. The King of Hell left distinctive signs of his existence. "And he liked to taunt me about my human life, showing how ineffectual I was then. This one time, he was talking about his time in the dungeon here. He said the solitude was worth it because of the times he had to screw with us."

"Do you think he was lying about it being irreversible?" Castiel asked hopefully.

Dean nodded. "I'm almost sure he was. We know he screwed with Kevin. Why wouldn't he screw with us, too?"

Sam slapped Dean on the back; perhaps a little harder than he intended to as Dean was shoved forward. "Awesome. Now we just need to find someone that speaks Elamite cuneiform and we're good. Cas, you're an angelic rolodex. Know anyone?"

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "Do I know anyone that speaks a language that has been extinct for millennia? No. But I perhaps have another idea."

Dean leaned forward. "Well, don't leave us hanging."

Castiel was amused that they were being so slow. They needed someone that could read the tablet, and for that, they needed a prophet. With the switch flipped in Heaven, there were no more prophets, so the last one was still active, despite the fact he was now a ghost. "We need Kevin."

Dean looked uncertain and Sam outright glowered.

"No," he said stiffly.

"Why not?" Castiel asked, confusion etched into his brow.

"Because he's dead, Cas," Sam said.

"So are you," Castiel said pointedly. "And yet here you are."

"He's a kid, dammit!"

"As were you when you went on your first hunt. Like it or not, Kevin has a sacred duty to the Word of God and that doesn't end because he died. He is the only one that can help us."

Sam shoved away from the table and paced the room. Dean watched the seat move back and frowned. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Castiel is being an asshole, that's what?" Sam snapped.

Castiel ignored him and addressed Dean. "Sam doesn't seem to want to involve Kevin again."

Dean's brow creased. "Sammy, it's the only way."

"No, it's not!" Sam shouted. "How can you be on board with this after what we did to him, what I did to him? He's dead because of us."

Castiel didn't want to repeat what Sam said, Dean didn't need to hear it, but nor did he need him to as the next thing Dean said was, "Let me guess, he's angsting because he killed Kevin."

Castiel nodded.

"Dammit, Sam," Dean sighed. "We're not doing this again. You didn't kill Kevin. Gadreel did. And the only reason he was able to was because I tricked you into letting him in. That's on me. Kevin knew that. He told you so. So why can't you believe him? If he knew what was happening, he'd want to help. We at least owe him the choice. We can call up his mom and see what he says."

"No. We're not doing that to him. He's earned his peace."

"You think he's at peace?" Dean asked. "I know you don't believe that, not really. You and him are stuck, trapped. This will be to his benefit as much as yours and ours."

"We're not dragging him in again."

Dean shook his head. "I like Kevin, he's family, but you're my brother, Sam. If bringing Kevin back in is what it takes to help you, I'm doing it."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't do it, Dean."

"How exactly are you going to stop me? Hey, what are you doing?"

Sam was reaching into Dean's pocket, much to Dean's shock. He pulled out his cell phone and dropped it onto the floor. With a well-placed foot, he cracked the plastic case.

"Sam!" Dean shouted. "What the hell!"

"It's okay," Castiel said serenely. "I have a phone."

Sam glowered at him and then a grim smile curved his lips. "Fine. How about this? You drag Kevin back in here, I will leave."

Castiel knew better than to hide the threat from Dean. He repeated the words and watched as Dean's expression grew dark.

"You wouldn't do that!" he said quietly.

"Wouldn't I?" Sam asked. "I've got the whole veil to hide inside."

Castiel scowled at Sam. That was a low blow, using his brother's fear of separation to get his way. Sam looked back, no sign of regret in him.

"Sam, you told me what you needed," he said pointedly. "This is the only means available to us of getting that for you."

Dean looked confused. He hadn't been privy to that conversation with Sam. "What does he need?"

Neither Castiel nor Sam spoke. They merely glared at each other, each weighing up the other's resolve.

"What does he need?" Dean asked again, irritation in his tone.

"Don't you dare, Castiel," Sam snarled.

Castiel opened his mouth to answer, to shatter Dean's peace of mind, but at that moment, someone hammered on the door. All eyes flickered to it for a moment, wondering who it could be, and then Castiel got to his feet. Whoever it was—there were only a few people that knew about the existence of the bunker and those that did were dead, trapped in Hell and trapped in Oz—they were not expected by either of the brothers.

Castiel walked up the stairs and swung it open. An attractive woman stood on the threshold and behind her was a familiar figure. "I am not happy about this," she said in lieu of a greeting. "But he insisted."

Kevin peered around his mother's shoulder and grinned. "Hey, guys."

So… Kevin is back! *happy dances around the room* I love Kevin. I miss Kevin. I want to adopt Kevin and feed him hotdogs and pep pills while wrapping him in cotton wool to protect him from the world.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx