Thanks to Gredelina1 for helping me beat the wrinkles out of this chapter and for not killing me when she saw how I ended it. Love you honey xxx

Chapter Ten

For a moment, Dean wasn't in the spacious garage with Sam and Castiel. He was in that warehouse, crumpled against the wall as Metatron slid the blade into his chest, smiling with satisfaction as Dean was impaled upon the sword. It lasted only a few seconds, the rush of memory, but it was long enough for Sam to notice and lay a tentative hand on his shoulder. He didn't ask Dean if he was okay aloud, but the question was there in the twist of his lips and a slightly raised eyebrow. Dean nodded slightly. He was fine. Almost.

Castiel turned away and strode out of the room. Sam and Dean delayed for a beat, long enough to exchange a glance in which Dean said their conversation wasn't over, and then they followed him.

It was clear that Kevin and Mrs. Tran had been told as much as Sam and Dean, as they were standing together, looking strained but confused.

"Cas," Sam said. "Explain. What's happened?"

"I heard them talking on angel radio," Castiel said. "Hannah has been likely been killed and Metatron escaped."

"But he was in Heaven's jail," Sam said. "I didn't think there was any place more secure than that."

Castiel sighed impatiently. "His followers orchestrated the escape. Hannah was interrogating him at the time—she is either dead or hostage now. They have taken the portal, and it is now guarded by his supporters. It is only a matter of time before Metatron moves it again."

Dean blew out a deep breath. "Awesome. Metadouche is on the run again."

"We have to find him."

"Yeah, Cas, that's an idea and all," Dean snapped. "But it's not like we had a lot of luck last time and, in case you're forgetting, he killed me when we finally did."

Castiel glowered at him. "I have not forgotten, Dean. I am more than aware of what he did to you and the rest of my family. We still have to find him though. He can wreak untold havoc if he is allowed free rein again."

"Uh, I might have an idea," Sam said hesitantly. "What if I go after him?"

Castiel frowned. "How will you do that?"

"Well," Sam looked awkward. "He can't see me unless I let him, right? I can camp out where we knew the portal was last, and follow any angels that come out. Sooner or later, he'll show himself, and I can kill him. We've got an angel blade in the trunk. He won't see me coming."

"No!" Dean spat. "No way. Not gonna happen."

"Why not?" Sam asked, looking for all the world like he couldn't understand Dean's hesitation. "It's not like he can kill me, is it. And I'm the only one that has a chance of finding him without being seen."

"He'll sense you, Sam," Castiel said. "Even if he can't see you."

"Yeah, but what's he going to do even if he can? I'm a ghost already. He can't make me more dead."

"You may be right," Castiel said thoughtfully. "At least you would be able to follow him, to enable us to lay a trap for him, even if you are not able to take the killing shot yourself."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. Castiel and Sam were talking about this as if it was an actual option. As if Dean would ever let it happen! "No!" he shouted.

Sam started. "Dean…"

"Don't Dean me. You're not doing it."

"What are you afraid of?" Sam asked. "He can't kill me."

"No, he might not be able to kill you, but he can still end you. Let me guess, you want to take the amulet so you can bounce all over without being tethered to me. What if Metatron gets hold of it? We don't know what happens to ghosts that have nothing to tether them. You could be stuck in the veil forever!"

"I'm not going to let him get it," Sam said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not an idiot."

"Neither was I, but he still managed to kill me."

Sam shook his head. "That was before, when he was all hopped up on the angel tablet. He's not hooked up anymore. He's just an angel."

"Dammit, no!" Dean bellowed. "You're not doing it, Sam. It's not safe." They couldn't risk it, Dean couldn't risk it, not when he had just got his brother back.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, a mulish expression of defiance on his face. "Then what are we supposed to do? Like you said, we didn't have an easy time tracking him down last time. Hell, even Cas with all his angels searching were shit out of luck."

"He's right, Dean," Castiel said. "I can think of no other way to find him."

Dean's hand came up to his chest and he clasped the amulet in a fist. "No. We're not doing this. I'm not giving it up."

Sam scoffed. "Sure. 'Cause it's not like you need to sleep or anything. There's no way of us getting it from you."

Castiel started forward, as if he was going to try to snatch it from Dean there and then. "I swear, Cas, you even try and I will blast you back to wherever it is angels go now when they're banished. And you"—he turned to Sam—"I will put in a salt circle and leave you there until the end of time if I have to." He sighed. "Just… we're not doing it. I've given everything to this damn fight, again and again, but I'm not giving this. We'll have to find another way."

He was mortified that his voice shook. He couldn't help it though. Sam and Castiel were talking about risking everything for this, Sam's very existence, and he couldn't do it. He'd lost enough, given enough, he would not risk his brother now.

Castiel stared into his eyes, seeming to test his resolve, and then he nodded dourly. "Okay, we will not do it now."

"Ever," Dean spat.

Castiel ignored him. "But we must find another way. We cannot lose more to Metatron. He must be stopped."

Dean bit his tongue to keep quiet, but he couldn't control his thoughts. He wanted revenge on Metatron as much as anyone—he had killed him after all—but this wasn't like the other battles they'd faced over the years. Sure, it sucked that the angels were trapped on earth, but it wasn't the end of the world again. This wasn't their fight, not really. Revenge aside, there was no reason for them to go after Metatron. He wasn't gunning for the planet. Other than a small minority, angels had banded against him. Why couldn't they let the angels solve this problem for themselves.

Dean wanted him dead, for Kevin and Sam and Castiel and himself, but he could live with him alive, too. Revenge always came at a price. Sam had proven that with Lilith. He'd gone after her and almost ended the world. Maybe this was a fight they should all sit out for a change.

"Kevin, it is more important now than ever that you decipher the tablet," Castiel said. "Have you made any progress?"

Kevin spoke up for the first time. "I have found the section that deals with the spell Metatron used, but I have no idea what it means. It's so cryptic. One phrase says 'the love that closes will open', but that's all. I don't know what God was trying to say." He shrugged. "I'm sorry."

Castiel waved away his apology. "Keep trying."

"You think he isn't already?" Mrs. Tran asked shrilly. "My son is doing more than his fair share in all this. What exactly have any of you done? He is here, working day and night to help you." She turned to Kevin. "You might be a genius, but don't think I'm oblivious. You've been sneaking back here at night."

"Yeah, but…" Kevin started, but she cut him off.

"But nothing!"

"Hate to interrupt," Sam said sardonically. "But we've got other things than family drama and Kevin's nighttime forays to worry about. If we're not going after Metatron through me, which is stupid, we need to bunker down here until we know where he is. He's gotta be pissed at the whole imprisonment thing, and with our luck, he'll have worked it out in his freaky mind to be our fault. He'll come after us, so we need to protect ourselves."

"You want us to stay here?" Mrs. Tran asked.

"I want you safe," Sam said. "And this is the safest place on earth."

"He's right, Mom," Kevin said. "We need to be here, and I need to work on the tablet."

She nodded, though Dean could tell it was reluctantly. "Okay. We will go to the hotel and collect our things."

"We can do that for you," Sam offered, indicating himself and Dean.

"Thank you, but no," she said sniffily.

"Fine," Sam said patiently. "Cas, will you go with them?"

Castiel nodded. "I will protect them."

Dean would have liked to argue, to tell them he'd go himself, but he didn't entirely trust Sam to not snatch the amulet when he was driving. It was a poor sign of how things were that he couldn't trust his brother to protect himself, but then, when he thought about it, had he ever been able to do that? Even back in the day, when they were just starting out together again after Stanford, Sam had been more than willing to risk himself for a case. The Bloody Mary hunt was a prime example. Apparently, Dean wasn't the only one that wanted to go out in a blaze of glory.

Mrs. Tran gathered her purse and she and Kevin followed Castiel to the door. Dean watched them go with a sinking sensation in his gut. Of all of them, Castiel was best able to protect them from whatever came, but he would have preferred to be the one going with them, in control of the situation.

As the door closed behind them, he turned to Sam. "We need to talk."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Really, Dean, don't you think we've spoken enough already?"

Dean bristled at his brother's apparent nonchalance. "What the hell was all that about?" he demanded. "One minute you're telling me you're sticking around till I'm ready and the next you're signing up to spy on Metatron! How do those two things work together?"

Sam sighed. "I meant what I said; I'll stay as long as I need to, but if I can be useful, I'll do that, too."

"You'll stay as long as you need to?" a snide voice asked. "Even knowing what it will cost you?"

Their gaze snapped to the stairs where a familiar figure was standing.

Metatron.

He was smiling smugly and carrying a shotgun that Dean would have bet the Impala was loaded with rock salt.

"Sam! Go!" he shouted.

Sam flickered, and for a second, Dean believed he had actually listened to him for once in his life, but then Sam reappeared at the top of the stairs beside Metatron. His hands were clawed and outstretched, as if he wanted to rip the skin from Metatron's face.

Metatron laughed sardonically. "Really, Winchester, you think you can hurt me?"

Sam sure as hell tried. His fingers curled around Metatron's throat, but instead of making contact, they moved right though his as if he was made of smoke.

"I'm an angel, you mouth-breathing halfwit," the angel sneered. "You can't touch me unless I let you. Like this…" He shoved Sam back with a hand at his chest and raised the shotgun. "I don't know if this will hurt you, but I sure hope it does." He pulled the trigger and the salt shot through Sam. He had all of a split-second to look at Dean with horror before he dispersed.

"You asshole!" Dean spat.

Metatron rolled his eyes and sauntered down the stairs. Dean felt useless without a weapon, but the angel blades were in the trunk of the Impala. He reached for the ornamental sword on the shelf and gripped it tight. It wouldn't kill Metatron, but it made Dean feel a little better not to be completely unarmed.

Metatron paused at the foot of the stairs and clutched a hand at his throat. "Oh no! He has a sword!" He laughed. "I am afraid for my life." Spreading his arms at his sides, he froze. "Please, don't hurt me."

Dean was incensed. The arrogant little pissant was mocking him. All thoughts of taking a knee for this fight deserted him and he gritted his teeth. He was going to kill Metatron or die trying. Maybe he and Sam would end the day as ghosts together. It was worth the risk.

Still clutching the shotgun in his hands, he slowly moved forward. "I admit I was surprised to hear you were back among the mortals, Dean. I had hoped the last one would be a death that stuck. I should have known your ignoramus of a brother and mine would find a way to save you. But it's okay. I learned to deal and see the positives in the situation. I get to kill you all over again now."

"You can try," Dean said.

Suddenly, Sam appeared behind Metatron. He took in the shotgun aimed at the floor and Dean with the sword in his hand, and he looked devastated. Dean understood. He could do nothing to defend or fight. He was frozen there as a spectator.

Metatron tilted his head to the side. "We're not alone."

Dean tried to communicate with Sam, to make him go before Metatron could act, but Sam either couldn't or wouldn't obey before Metatron spun on his heel and emptied another round into Sam.

"I hate eavesdroppers," he said conversationally.

Dean scoffed. "That's rich, coming from an angel."

Metatron shrugged. "Maybe. I could defend myself, but I only have so much time. There are things I need to tell you, Dean, things you need to know." As he spoke he reloaded the shotgun, this time with pellets.

Dean was going to die.

He could have run, or at least tried to. It wouldn't save him. Metatron would shoot him regardless, but it would have been a coward's death, shot in the back. Dean didn't have much in the world outside of his family that meant anything, but his name was one of those things. Winchesters were not cowards. He stood his ground.

"Sam will be back soon," Metatron said. "And there are things I want you to know before the end. Sam… he said he'll stay with you till you can let him go, right?" When Dean didn't acknowledge his question, he went on. "That's very sweet, and Winchester, and all that guff, but it's also impossible. You see, Dean, I am going to end you today, and Sam will have no one to hang on for. He can't go anywhere, of course. He will be trapped here with nothing but his anger to sustain him." He sighed happily, as if savoring the moment. "Your brother is going to be so dark and twisted by that anger that he is going to lose himself. He will become something that needs to be hunted. I just thought you ought to know, to see what's coming for him before you go." He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, drawing a deep breath through his nose. "I think Sam will be back soon, which means it's time to move on."

He brought up the shotgun and wavered the aim between Dean's gut and face. "Decision, decisions," he said in a musing tone. "Eenie, meenie, miney, moe…"

Metatron pulled the trigger seemingly automatically. Time slowed. Dean saw the recoil on the gun and the look of satisfaction in Metatron's eyes clearly before the pain hit. He had been lucky in a way. The shot had gone low, into his gut, so it wouldn't kill him instantly. He would feel every moment of pain as the life bled out of him and he slowly poisoned himself.

He fell almost gracefully to the floor. His hands came up to clutch at the wound and were immediately slicked with blood.

Metatron grinned as he crouched beside Dean.

"Is it painful?" he asked. "I've read a lot of stories and in them it always seems peaceful to die. I hope it hurts. The last thing I want you to have is peace."

Dean's bloody hand came up to grasp the amulet. He wanted to have some feeling of connection to his brother as he slipped away.

"Oh no you don't," Metatron said. He smacked Dean's hand away and yanked the amulet. The cord broke and Metatron stood, clutching it in his hand. "This has to be what Sam is tethered to. Am I right?"

"Fuck you," Dean rasped, mourning the loss of the amulet more than his own impending demise.

"That was rude." Metatron lifted a booted foot and pressed it down over Dean's wounded gut. The pain was exquisite, and he fought back a scream. "I hope the last time you said goodbye to your brother was meaningful, because you won't get that chance again. You will be a ghost, too, Dean, but I can promise you will never see him again. I will make sure of it. I control Sam now, and I will take him to the last place you think to look."

Dean looked up at the angel, hoping his loathing was clear in his eyes.

"Goodbye, Dean," Metatron said cheerfully. "I won't be seeing you again."

He disappeared with a faint fluttering sound, and Dean was left alone, dying on the floor.

So… Remember that ass kicking line you were all standing in, it's been upgraded to a kill-the-writer-that-ends-a-chapter-there line. Take a number, you'll all get a chance.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx

*creates bunker out of the corpses of all the fictional characters I have ever killed and hides behind it*