"He's coming." Cas gasps.
I try to smile at Cameron, try to reassure her, but my face just twists into a weary grimace as I set the bloody towel aside.
My feet are lead blocks, but somehow I manage to get moving, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I whip my gun from my belt, checking to make sure I have ammo.
Here we go again.
Metatron shoves Cas to the ground and strides regally towards me.
"You absolute child." he says, shaking his head. "All this time, you thought that this was about Dean. It's really been about you. We've been after you this whole time." he smiles. "But you have give us time to observe the best way to eliminate you. And we believe it's through these three people." he gestures around the room. At Dean's angry face, at Cameron's pale one, and at Cas, who is slowly picking himself up from the floor, ready to kill.
"We take your girl, your brother, and your friend, and really, you have nothing left." Metatron says.
I've known, maybe unconsciously, this whole time. Gadreel wants me as his vessel. They want me as a weapon.
"Cameron, do stop thinking so hard. You're wearing me out." Metatron looks past me to where I know she's standing..
"Excuse me?" She says softly, fear lacing her words.
"Trying to hide your emotion. Stop it." He says.
"Don't let him get to you." I say quickly. "He can't really read your thoughts. It's a trick."
Metatron glares at me, pointing his finger like a gun.
Invisible spikes bore themselves into the entire length of my spine. I can't stand anymore. The concrete floor welcomes me as its own, drinking up more of the blood from my shoulder and making my back worse. It is another tormentor; it is in league with Metatron. I can't stay down here.
Cameron slams into the ground, her head bouncing against the concrete at a flick of Metatron's finger. I scream her name, impossibly getting to my feet to attack the angel.
My knife flies at him, but he easily sides steps my move.
I'm back on the ground before I can blink.
"Seriously? This is it? You disappoint me." Metatron sighs.
I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling every piece of glass that has decided to make a home in my cheek.
Metatron is still smiling when a blade sticks itself out of his chest. He falls, a confused look reigning over his face as he meets death.
Cas sighs and wipes his blade on Metatron's coat.
"His flair for theatrics always was his downfall." he comments soberly.