Thank you so much Jenjoremy for the fabulous beta job and Gredelina1 for all your help and support.

I'm updating early because you're all awesome and because I have a kickass rec for you at the bottom. Make sure to give it a look.

Chapter Twenty-Three

"I'm sorry," Dean said. "I really am. I know how much you've put into finding Metatron, but we have to do this. There really isn't any other choice."

Castiel's anger surged. They were being infuriating. It wasn't that he didn't want Kevin to be saved, but to give Metatron the tablets was surely to hand him the world and every life in it. Why would he want the tablets if not to give himself some new advantage? At the moment, Metatron was just an angel—the only angel with his wings intact, but an angel nonetheless. He could be defeated if he could just be found and trapped. He could reveal the truth about Castiel's grace. Castiel was sure there was some still in the world. Sometimes he could almost feel it calling to him. If Metatron got his hands on the tablets, there would be nothing to bargain with.

Just then, Castiel heard something from right outside the bunker. "That's it, angel pet,you just hang there, nice and useless."Castiel stiffened as someone, surely Crowley, hammered on the door.

"Cas? What's—"Dean started, but Castiel didn't pause to answer. He had a feeling something wonderful was waiting on the other side of that door—Metatron. He rushed up the stairs to the door.

"Cas, wait!" Sam shouted. "We don't know who it is!"

Castiel knew enough though. There was a possibility Metatron himself was on the other side of that door.

He yanked open the door and swallowed his disappointment. Crowley stood supporting Gadreel who looked as if he had been beaten. One eye was only half open and there was blood on his face.

"No so useless after all, am I?" Crowley sneered.

Castiel heard a roar of rage from the room below, "Gadreel!" He rushed down the stairs to catch Sam and hold him back. Even though Castiel's strength was an angel's and Sam's only human, he was surprised by how difficult it was to hold the hunter back. Sam's anger-fuelled power was immense.

"Let go of me, Castiel," Sam growled, struggling to get past him.

Dean came up the stairs and grabbed Sam from behind, speaking calmingly and softly in his ear. "Not yet, Sam. I know what you want to do, and we will, but we can use him first. You hear me?"

Sam's struggles slowed and then ceased. Castiel held him a moment longer, and then, when Sam sagged, he passed him into Dean's hold.

"You with me?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." Dean patted his chest and released him.

Sam drew a deep breath and then fixed his eyes on Gadreel with absolute hatred.

"So, where do you want him?" Crowley asked.

Sam and Dean looked at each other and then Sam said, "Dungeon."

Castiel walked back up the stairs and took Gadreel's other arm and pulled it over his shoulders. With Gadreel hanging between them, his feet dragging, Castiel and Crowley got him down the stairs and through the halls into the file room that concealed the dungeon. Dean pulled the shelves apart to allow them access.

"Ah, cell sweet prison cell," Crowley said.

"Just get him in the chair," Sam said shortly.

Crowley stopped short of the devil's trap and Dean stepped forward to help Cas manhandle the angel into the chair. Sam quickly snapped the thick iron collar around his neck while Dean cuffed his wrists to the chair arms. When he was suitably bound, they stepped back and joined Crowley outside the circle.

Crowley smiled smugly. "Have to say, it's really satisfying seeing someone else in the hot seat this time."

No one answered him. Castiel's attention was fixed on the silent angel in the chair. He looked more alert now than he had when he'd arrived, and hateful. He fixed his eyes on Sam and stared with a strange expression—it was almost fond.

"What do you think you're looking at?" Sam asked.

"My favorite vessel," Gadreel said with a leer.

Sam lurched forward and struck out a fist, catching Gadreel's jaw. His head rocked up and he grunted.

"Sammy," Dean said carefully.

Sam panted hard as he massaged his knuckles. "I know."

"Perhaps we can take a moment to speak in private," Castiel said.

Dean nodded and tugged on Sam's arm. "Come on. He's not going anywhere."

Sam allowed himself to be led out of the room; Crowley followed after them, whistling cheerfully. Castiel paused by the door and glared at Gadreel. "We will come back and when we do, you will suffer. I think it's better that you speak freely before that, don't you?"

Gadreel returned the glare. "I think you are blind to fact if you think you can make me talk."

Castiel smiled cruelly. "I think you are blind if you think Dean and Sam will allow you the choice."

He walked out of the room and through to the library where the others were gathered and Crowley was explaining his capture of the angel.

"Figured it had to be a trap to get one of you and the tablets back, so I took a chance. Found the bastard lurking around the gravestones in Stull."

"And Kevin?" Charlie asked hopefully.

Crowley shook his head and looked at her with something like sympathy. "Sorry, Red, he was nowhere there."

"He couldn't have been hidden?" she asked. "We should go back and check."

"He was nowhere within a mile," Crowley said. "Little prophets give off a kind of vibe—resonating they call it. Without anything interfering with my power—like those lovely chains you had me in—I'd be able to feel him if he was anywhere in the area. I didn't even feel a flicker."

Charlie rubbed a hand over her face, looking forlorn. Dean wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "We're going to find him, Charlie."

Charlie nodded and sniffed.

Dean turned to Sam. "Okay. Gadreel. I know you want him dead, Sam—"

"Are you telling me you don't?" Sam cut in, giving Dean a hard look.

"No," Dean said. "I want him dead just as much as you. But we've got to play this smart. He's got to know where Metatron and Kevin are. If we get that out of him, we can save both Kevin and Cas." He turned to Castiel. "Your grace. If there is any left, he'll be the only one that knows, right?"

Castiel nodded. It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that they had seemed to forget that only a short while ago, but he kept quiet. They remembered now and that was what mattered.

"So we get it out of him," Dean said. "We have the angel blades." He locked eyes with Sam. "I can do it alone if you need me to?"

"No," Sam said quickly. "I want to do it, too."

"Just don't kill him, okay?"

Sam grimaced. "I won't. Yet." He grabbed the angel blades from the shelf where they were stowed and handed one to Dean. "Ready?"

Dean nodded. "More than."

Sam walked away towards the dungeon and Dean followed.

When Castiel was with Bartholomew at their base of operations, he felt less than he was. He was constantly under Bartholomew's gaze and power. He hated it. He missed his friends. He missed his freedom.

Bartholomew made a show of how good he was to Castiel when Sam and Dean were there, but the rest of the time Castiel felt like an insignificant being to all the angels around him. His mistakes were frequently thrown at him in snide reminders and comments. And there were the deaths. Daily meetings were held and the field agents' reports were picked over. Too many times they mentioned angels that had been 'recruited' by foul means or fair, and other times there were the names of deceased and dishonored angels—almost all of them names Castiel knew, voices he had heard on angel radio, and sometimes friends.

Castiel hated it. He wished more than anything that he could leave, but to do so would be to break the bond he had made with Bartholomew for the grace that had saved Sam's life and gave the Winchesters the freedom to deal with Gadreel. Had he not been certain his betrayal would cost the lives of himself and all those he cared about, he would have fled long ago. Bartholomew would not allow him or his friends to live if he embarrassed him by leaving. There was always relish in his voice when he announced a dishonored deceased, as if he was pleased that death had come for someone that dared refuse him. No amount of pretended affection for Castiel would make Bartholomew spare his life.

He was so glad to be away from Bartholomew and back among his friends, even though their situation was dire.

"Cas, you okay?" Dean asked, pulling Castiel from his thoughts.

"Yes, fine," he replied quickly.

"Sure? Because if you need a break, that's okay, right, Sam?"

Sam didn't answer. He was concentrating on his task of drawing a line of blood on Gadreel's bare chest and a cry from the angel. Castiel thought he was unaware of Castiel's presence. Perhaps he did not even see Dean or Crowley there, too. He was so focused on hurting the angel that anything could have happened around him and he would have been oblivious.

"Where is Metatron?" Sam asked Gadreel tonelessly; he had asked the question many times.

"I will never tell you," Gadreel said in a rasping voice.

"You will," Sam said.

"He won't if you keep pussyfooting around," Crowley said from his place by the door. "C'mon, Moose, go for the eyelids. You know you want to."

Sam ignored him.

"We need him alive, Crowley," Dean said.

"You don't need eyelids to live," Crowley argued. "I've tried it myself a few times recently, and it works a treat."

"He doesn't have it in him," Gadreel said, his voice weak but smug. "He was never the torturer, always the tortured, isn't that right? I have been tortured by Heaven's most creative angels. You are a pathetic human."

Sam dug the tip of the blade in Gadreel's shoulder and the angel cried out.

From a distance, Castiel heard someone sob. It was Charlie, alone in the library.

"I will come right back," Castiel said.

Dean nodded but Sam didn't even turn.

Castiel walked back into the library where he found Charlie sitting hunched over the table with a pad of notes in Kevin's script in front of her.

"Charlie," he said tentatively.

She started and looked guilty as she wiped the tears from her face. "Hey, Cas."

Castiel wasn't accustomed to much physical contact, but at the evidence of her sadness, he opened his arms to her. She stood quickly and threw herself into his embrace, burying her face in his shoulder and beginning to cry again. Castiel soothed her as best as he could with soft spoken words and gentle pats on her back.

She slowly choked herself to calm and pulled back. "I'm sorry," she said.

There was a shout of rage and a cry of pain from the dungeon and she flinched. Castiel understood then that it wasn't just Kevin's capture that was upsetting her. It was what was happening in the dungeon.

"It is necessary," he said neutrally.

"I know, I do, it's just…" She drew a shaky breath. "That's my family in there, doing that."

"Gadreel deserves it."

"He does, but…" She heaved a sigh and went back to her chair. "I know about Alastair and Hell, I know Dean tortured people, but to hear him doing it and reading about it are different."

Castiel had seen it before twice. The first time, when he dove into Hell to retrieve Dean, he had seen Dean presiding over some poor soul, tearing into it and drawing pleasure from his actions. And then when Castiel had stolen him away and used him to get the information from Alastair, when he thought the demons were killing angels when it had really been the work of Uriel, he had seen Dean's talent at the craft, and he knew that was a point of shame for his friend.

"It's not Dean," he said regretfully. "It's Sam hurting Gadreel."

Charlie shuddered. "Sam! I've never seen him as angry as when Crowley brought Gadreel, but I never imagined Sam doing that."

"He has suffered greatly at the hands of that angel," Castiel said. "And he has much knowledge to draw on in part because of that."

She wiped at her face again. "Is it working? Is he talking yet?"

"Nope," a voice said, coming along the hall. Crowley appeared. "The little shit isn't saying a word."

"What are we going to do then?" Charlie asked, her eyes imploring Castiel.

"Don't fret, Red," Crowley said. "I've got an idea." He walked away into the war room and Castiel heard his footsteps on the stairs and then the creak and clang of the door as he left.

"What does he mean?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know," Castiel answered. "But I hope it works."

Castiel stood at the back of the room, watching Crowley as he set the metal contraption on Gadreel's head. He was whistling through his teeth, seeming perfectly content.

"And this is what you did to Alfie?" Dean asked.

"Yep," Crowley said happily. "Worked a treat, too. Broke open his factory settings as easy as cracking an egg."

"And making him crazy and murderous so he tried to kill Cas," Sam pointed out.

"I did?" Crowley asked. "Didn't realize I was that good." He glanced at Castiel. "My apologies, Castiel," he murmured not sounding sorry at all.

Castiel forced himself to remain still and not react. Samandriel had been killed on Naomi's orders when he had been under her controlling influence. He had done nothing to deserve his end.

"Anyway," Crowley said. "It obviously worked then. It will again." He set a cloth case down on the table and flipped it open. There were a dozen metal probes each in a separate sleeve. "Shall we?" he asked Gadreel.

"This will not work," Gadreel said. "I will not break."

Crowley grinned at him. "I truly cannot wait to prove you wrong." He approached Gadreel with a probe and threaded it through a hole in the metal contraption. He paused for a moment, seeming to be enjoying the anticipation, and then slowly pushed the probe into Gadreel's temple.

The angel howled in pain.

"That's what I like to hear," Crowley said. "Some subject participation." He pushed the probe in a little deeper and said, "Now where's that little runt Metatron?"

"I will not tell you," Gadreel groaned.

Crowley leered. "I was kinda hoping you'd say that. I would hate to have my fun cut short already."

Slowly, methodically, Crowley pierced Gadreel with five other probes, twisting them in to various depths. The angel cried out each time. Castiel wondered how Charlie was faring with the noise, but he couldn't leave the room to check. He felt he needed to be there with Sam and Dean, who were watching the scene side by side in contemplative silence.

An hour passed of Crowley asking for Metatron's location, driving the probes in deeper with each question, until with one twist, Gadreel answered with something other than a refusal.

"Where is Metatron?" Crowley asked.

"Metatron is the Scribe. The keeper of the Word," Gadreel said in dull toned Enochian.

Crowley and Castiel exchanged a glance.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Crowley said smugly.

"What's he saying?" Dean asked.

"Metatron is the Scribe. The keeper of the Word," Castiel repeated the words in English.

Dean's eyes widened. "This is it," he said excitedly. "Keep going, Crowley."

Crowley twisted the probe again, driving it in so deep there was barely an inch of the long probe left outside.

Gadreel cried out louder than ever. "No! Not that!"

Castiel frowned. "Not what?"

"Don't make me!" Gadreel shouted. "Please, don't make me see!"

Crowley laughed harshly. "By Jove I think we've got it."

"Got what?" Sam asked.

"I think we reached the jackpot," Crowleysaid with another small twist of the probe. "What are you scared to see, angel pet?"

"I am Gadreel. I am Guardian of the Garden," he said.

As Castiel translated the words for Sam and Dean, Sam stepped forward. "What is this?"

"I'm pretty sure we've reached memory," Crowley said. "I could be wrong but…" he flicked the tip of the probe and Gadreel cried out, his eyes squeezing shut, "Thaddeus, no, I beg you!"

"Yes," Castiel said quickly. "That's memory. Thaddeus is one of the torturers in Heaven's jail."

"Stop," Gadreel pleaded. "I beg you."

"Where's Metatron?" Sam asked harshly. "Tell us and we'll stop."

Gadreel's eyes cracked open and he said in a whisper. "Will you?"

"Yes," Sam said. "Tell us where Metatron is and we'll stop."

Apparently for motivation, Crowley flicked the tip of the probe again, making Gadreel yell.

"Where is he?" Sam asked, looming over the angel.

"Santa Fe," Gadreel moaned. "There is a hotel there. He has taken it over."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look laden with meaning.

"Anything else they need to know?" Crowley asked.

"He is not alone," Gadreel said. "He has more angels than me on his side."

"Is there anything else?" Castiel asked.

"No," Gadreel said. "Now, please, get these out of me."

Crowley looked at Sam and received a nod in return. With obvious enjoyment at the pain it was causing Gadreel, Crowley yanked the probes out of his head one by one, leaving the deepest for last. Lifting the contraption from his head, he said. "That's me done."

"That's all of us done," Sam said, reaching for the angel blade on the table.

"What?" Gadreel sputtered. "You said you would stop!"

"He said we'd stop with the memories," Dean said. "No one said you'd make it out alive."

Crowley cleared his throat. "Not sure if you're interested, but I've got something a little special." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, black gun. Castiel recognized it as the gun he himself had been shot with. "Angel blade bullets," Crowley said happily. He held it out but Sam shook his head.

"Thanks, but I'm happy with this," he said, lifting the blade.

"Hands on kinda man," Crowley said. "I can respect that, Moose."

Sam stepped forward and pressed the tip of the blade off-center of Gadreel's chest. "Anything to say?" he asked.

"I will not beg for my life," Gadreel said scathingly.

"Good. Because I wouldn't listen," Sam replied.

Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and said softly, to his brother only, "Go on, Sammy. End it.

Sam thrust the blade into Gadreel's chest, right into his heart. Bright white light spilled from Gadreel's eyes and mouth, and Castiel saw the shadows of ruined wings on the wall.

As Sam pulled back the bloodied blade, he drew a deep breath and sighed. "It's done."

"That part is," Dean said. "Now we kill Metatron."

So… One dick angel down, one to go. I am not good at torture and violent scenes, I hate writing them, but sometimes a story demands them. Hope it wasn't too bad.

I have a rec for you this week.

When in Rhome by ZuWang

Summary: Someone's killing people in Rhome Texas, and our favorite brothers have to figure out who or what - except sometimes, someone can make someone forget that someone's even GOT a brother. A god steals some demigods' freedom. The demigods steal Sam's memory. Sam steals Dean's car. A case, some memory manipulation, and a bit of hurt Sam/protective Dean.

This story is all kinds of awesome. There are three chapters up so far, and I loved each and every one of them. It's a post-season 12 casefic with a strong emotional story too. The case is solid and exciting, and the personal arc is ever better. It features some favorite characters—one of which made me squee when I read the name. The characterization is great—you'll really her the boys speaking as you read. It's completely written and updates every other day.

Seriously, people, give it a look. Search it up or find it on my favorite stories list.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx