Thank you so much Jenjoremy for working your beta magic on this for me. It's much appreciated. Thank you also Gredelina1 for helping me work out the kinks.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dean pulled the car to a stop in the almost empty parking lot, beside the large black SUV, and said quietly, "Are you all ready for this?"

There were murmurs of assent from Charlie and Castiel in the back seat and Sam nodded beside him.

"Here we go then," Dean said.

They climbed out of the car and made for the small group standing under a streetlight. Crowley smiled smugly at their approach and Bartholomew fixed his eyes on Castiel, a strange expression on his face. The only one seemingly aware of the gravity of the situation was Tessa; she looked solemn.

At a pointed look from Bartholomew, Castiel walked to stand at his side, and it felt to Dean like it was drawing a divide between them, that the few feet of space between them was a mile. As soon as they'd gotten Kevin back and taken care of Metatron, he was going to get the truth out of Castiel about what the real deal with Bartholomew was. He was sure it was more than just what was happening to the angels that refused Bartholomew that was changing him. It was as if Bartholomew was holding something else over him. Though, he supposed that when Metatron was dealt with, there was no reason for Castiel to stay with the other angels at all. He could come home and be with them all again.

Dean moved so Charlie was bracketed between him and Sam, and he received a grateful smile in return.

"Why have you summoned us here, to this place of human… filth?" Bartholomew asked, peering around the dirty parking lot. "Castiel?"

"Gadreel is dead," Sam said brutally.

Bartholomew raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?" he asked Castiel.

Castiel nodded. "Yes. Sam killed him."

"I thank you," Bartholomew said to Sam. "You have done all angels a great service. We owe you a debt."

Sam didn't speak but stared stolidly back at him.

"There's more," Castiel said. "The Winchesters have found the location of Metatron."

Crowley coughed. "Who did you say, Castiel?"

"The Winchesters and Crowley," Castiel amended. "Together they extracted the information before Gadreel was killed."

Crowley snorted. "Together."

"Does it matter?" Charlie snapped. "Point is, we know where Metatron is, which means we know where Kevin is."

Dean stepped a little closer so his arm brushed Charlie's. He didn't want to comfort her openly in front of Bartholomew as it would make her look weak to him—and that was one thing Charlie wasn't. She was worried about her friend and possibly scared for the fight that was to come, but that was because she loved. The people most important to her were going to be in danger, and—if Dean couldn't persuade her otherwise—herself, too. This was hardly Dean's first time taking down something like this, but he was nervous. So much rode on them being the ones that came out on top.

"Where is he?" Bartholomew asked intensely.

"Here in New Mexico," Dean said. "There's a hotel he's got history with."

"Where?"

"We'll get you there, don't worry," Dean said. "But first we want to hammer some details out."

Bartholomew nodded impatiently. "Yes. Fine. What do you need?"

"Kevin," Sam said, glancing at Tessa. "We know you're all about getting Heaven open, but Kevin is our top priority. We're going into this for Heaven and Metatron, but most of all Kevin; he's our family. You have to do the same. You will do nothing to jeopardize us getting him back safe in your hurry to get at Metatron. Okay?"

Bartholomew agreed at once. "Of course. We want the prophet safe, too."

"Tessa?" Sam pressed.

"You do realize you're asking me prioritize one human soul over the millions that are trapped in the veil?"

"Yes," Sam said.

She looked annoyed. "That is quite the selfish demand."

"You reapers don't love, do you?" Charlie said.

Tessa frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"Because if you did, you'd understand why we're asking for this."

Tessa nodded slowly. "Perhaps. Okay. I will not jeopardize Kevin's life. I will protect it if I can even, on the proviso that you do everything in your power to apprehend Metatron so we can get the truth of Heaven from him."

"Done," Sam said.

"I am trusting your family's reputation, Sam Winchester," she said.

"We all are," Bartholomew added.

"Good," Dean said. "Now, we think we have something that will make Metatron talk, but we need him trapped to do that. If he sees us coming, he's going to flap off." He cast Crowley an annoyed look. "We had an idea, but our asset isn't feeling helpful anymore." They had planned to have Crowley teleport into the hotel and hold Metatron until they could get him in a circle of holy fire; however, Crowley had said he was done for the day. His exact words were, "I am done getting my hands dirty for you two ingrates."

"Then why are you here, demon?" Bartholomew asked.

"Thought I'd drop the kids off at daycare and stick around for the shits and giggles of seeing them fight," Crowley said lightly. "It's always fun to see when they're not fighting, you know, me."

"I can deal with Metatron," Tessa said. "I can trap him without him even realizing I am there."

"How?" Charlie asked.

"I will stop time," Tessa said simply.

"Second problem," Dean said. "According to Gadreel, Metatron has other angels with him. We're probably going to have to fight our way through to him."

"We can deal with that," Bartholomew said. "I have many angels at my command, and they will aid us. I just need them to get here."

"I can help you there," Tessa said. "If you tell your angels to gather at your base, I and my fellows can retrieve them and bring them to the location."

Bartholomew nodded and turned away, bringing his phone to his ear, and Tessa closed her eyes and looked concentrated.

Sam glanced down at Charlie, and though Dean knew what he was going to say and what her response would be, he didn't stop Sam as he had a little hope she would take the escape.

"Look, Charlie," Sam started, but she cut him off.

"I know what you're going to say, and no. I am not sitting it out. I can handle this."

"We know," Sam said quickly. "It's just things might get messy and…"

"And you want to protect me," she said. "I know. I love you, too, Sam, both of you." She turned to Dean. "And I love Kevin, so no, I am not sitting it out. This is my fight, too."

Dean nodded. "Okay. You're right."

"Good," she said, satisfied, straightening her shoulders. "I'm ready."

Being moved under another's influence was uncomfortable. If not for the situation they were in, rushing to fight and rescue a friend, Castiel would have been humiliated, too. He could feel grumbles of the other angels around him, and he was sure his name was in their minds. Had it not been for his mistake, they would have had their own wings, whole and proud, to transport them.

Castiel didn't have long to dwell on it though, as he heard a shout from an unfamiliar voice and someone cried out, "We are under attack! Protect the Scribe!"

Castiel drew his blade and braced himself and turned to his friends. "Find Metatron!" he ordered.

Dean and Sam were each holding an angel blade in their hands, and Charlie was armed with Crowley's gun. She looked pale and scared but also determined. Castiel was proud of her courage.

"Winches—!" a voice growled, and an angel rushed toward them. Then he stopped. In the instant before Castiel felt the reaper's influence wash over him and freeze him in time, too, he saw the angel's foot raised from the ground to take a step and the half-formed word on his open mouth. And then Castiel froze, too.

"…ters," the voice completed the word as they snapped back to themselves, and Castiel knew that the reaper Tessa had done her part—hopefully successfully. Metatron should be trapped now.

He didn't have more than an instant to think of it though, as the angel that had called the Winchester's name came rushing at them. Castiel raised his blade and prepared to fight.

His first thrust was blocked and the angel jabbed forward with his own. Castiel stepped back out of its range.

"So weak," the angel taunted. "What happened to the Great Castiel that waged wars and killed thousands?"

Castiel felt a surge of anger at the taunt, and with that anger came a rush of power. He didn't look, but he thought he could feel the gaze of other angels on him. Perhaps they were waiting for his defeat, the end of the pathetic former soldier of God, Castiel. He would not give it. He was done being the butt of jokes, Bartholomew's toady as they called him behind their hands. He was a soldier of God, and he was going to show it.

He surged forward, his blade extended, and the tip caught the angel in the chest. It pulled back before too much damage could be done, but Castiel saw the bright light pouring from the wound, and he knew he had done enough. He pressed his advantage, backing the injured angel into a wall. When the angel's back hit the wood paneling, Castiel leered towards him. "You ask where Castiel is. I am here, and I am going to end you."

"Brother, please…" the angel pleaded.

"You are not my brother," Castiel snarled. "Brother means something very different to me. It means family."

He swept the blade deep across the angel's throat, drawing a gush of blood and light. The angel's eyes blazed and Castiel turned away, disinterested. He looked around and saw that Sam, Dean and Charlie were gone.

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief and searched for his next victim. There were plenty to choose from. Metatron had amassed a large number of fighters for his cause. Castiel saw Berieah being set upon by two and he rushed to her aid. He dispatched one of the angels attacking her with a quick stab, and moved on to the next.

He had dealt with another three angels before he realized, as he searched for a new opponent, that he was tired. Angels did not tire—at least not angels with their own grace. He pushed aside his worry and launched himself at an angel that was leering at him from halfway across the room. That was when he heard the shout from up the stairs, "Shut your mouth!" Worry surging through him, he quickly made the killing blow, shoving his blade through the angel's throat, and ran for the stairs—toward his family.

Sam watched, awed, as Castiel threw himself into the fight. He had never seen his friend like this before. He was a murderous machine.

"Come on," Dean said, yanking his arm. "Metatron!"

The name worked to snap Sam out of his shock. He grabbed Charlie's hand to keep them from being separated and, checking to make sure Dean was with him, he ran between the fighting angels and up the stairs. As he reached the top of the stairs, he saw Crowley facing down a tall angel, both with blades in their hands. He wasn't surprised the demon had stayed for the fight. He'd thought he would be unable to resist in the first place. Sam stopped for a moment to look down over the balcony at the fighting angels, seeing Castiel advancing on a new opponent. Satisfied his friend was okay, Sam made for the hall and Metatron's room from before.

They didn't pause at the door. Dean thrust it open and raced in, Sam following and Charlie bringing up the rear.

Sam had half expected the room to be the same maze of books as before, but it wasn't. The floor had been cleared of the stacks. There was a large polished dark wood desk under the window, and the books had been relocated to shelves all around the walls. To the side of the desk was a circle of holy fire, and standing in the middle was Metatron. Tessa stood just outside the flames, staring at him neutrally.

Sam took it all in within a moment of entering the room before his eyes cast around for a sign of their friend. He saw him sitting in the corner in a high-backed leather chair. He looked a little battered, his right eye was bruising and his lip split, but he grinned as he caught sight of them, and said, "Took you long enough."

"Kevin!" Charlie ran at him and threw herself into his lap, dropping the gun in the process. Dean bent and picked it up carefully.

Kevin laughed breathlessly. "Okay, Charlie, air becoming an issue," he said.

"Oops." Charlie pulled back and perched herself on the arm of his chair, her hand resting over his shoulders.

Sam absorbed the relief of seeing Kevin there and relatively unharmed and then he turned to Metatron. In the months since he'd seen him last, he'd forgotten the details of the angel. Metatron had become so much more in their minds—a threat and enemy that had to be faced—and Sam had forgotten what a puny little man he really was. His short stature and weak features did not lend themselves to intimidation. He looked pathetic with the reflected flames rippling over his face.

"Winchesters," he said. "I wondered what had kept you."

"Stopped to take in the view," Dean said idly. "Nice place you got here."

"I think so," Metatron said easily. "I've grown quite attached."

"Obviously," Sam said. "Explains why you were dumb enough to come back here when we knew about it."

"Yes," Metatron said indulgently. "You knew, but you didn't realize, did you? You spent all that time looking for me, and you didn't think to look here. Admittedly, I wasn't always here. I was enjoying Heaven much of the time. But here I am now."

"Yes," Sam said brutally. "Here you are, trapped like a bug."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you," Metatron said. "You were trapped inside yourself with Gadreel running the controls, weren't you? Where is he by the way?"

"Dead," Dean snarled.

Metatron sighed. "I guessed as much. Never mind. He served his purpose. He told me all I needed to know." He leered at Sam. "He told me all about you, Sam Winchester, and your life—your loves. He was a little bitter after what your brother did to him—kicking him out of his nice vessel—so he had a little fun. Jessica Moore for instance."

"Shut your mouth!" Sam bellowed, shock and hatred ripping through him. "You don't talk about her."

"Oh, but I do," Metatron said gleefully. "The things Gadreel did to her… It was art."

Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder, and Sam felt some of the fury seeping out of him at the show of reassurance. He took a deep breath and nodded.

The door burst open again then, and Castiel rushed inside, panting and pale.

"Well, well, Castiel, how have you…" Metatron's eyes widened. "Grace? How?"

"A friend gave it to me," Castiel said.

Metatron shook his head. "Whoever gave that to you was no friend. You have been sentenced to death in a painful and protracted way. Just look at you."

Sam looked at his friend, taking in his pallor and quick breaths. Angels were not supposed to look like that. They were supposed to be beyond illness or weariness. Castiel had said the borrowed grace might kill him, but Sam hadn't really believed it would happen until then.

"You are burning through it quickly, aren't you?" Metatron asked. "You can feel it."

Castiel shook his head. "I feel nothing."

"Where's Cas' grace?" Sam asked, his hands fisted to keep them from shaking.

"Gone," Metatron said. "I used it all on the spell."

"You're lying," Sam said. "Cas can feel it."

Metatron sighed. "Okay. Maybe I was lying a little. There is a smidgen left, just a trace, and that's been freed on the wind."

"No," Castiel said. "If it was on the earth, it would find me."

"I didn't say earth's wind, Castiel," Metatron said.

"Heaven?" Castiel breathed.

Metatron smiled smugly. "Yes, imagine the task it would be trying to find it, an impossible task. You're doomed Castiel."

Sam swallowed hard and pushed down his worry. They would deal with Castiel's grace later. They'd find a way to save him. They had other promises to keep now.

"Heaven," he said. "How do we open it again?"

"You don't," Metatron said with a small shrug. "It's not possible. There is no reversing that spell."

Castiel looked stricken and Tessa's hands fisted. "You lie!" she said.

"No," Metatron said. "Why do you think your little prophet hasn't found anything on the tablet? It only works one way."

Dean raised Crowley's gun and aimed it at Metatron. "Try that again," he growled. "How do we open Heaven?"

Metatron laughed. "You won't shoot me."

Dean lowered the gun slightly and pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced Metatron's left foot. He howled with pain and fell to the floor, barely missing the edge of the fiery trap.

"How do you open Heaven?" Dean asked again.

Metatron panted with pain. "There's no way to open it. There's only the portal."

"Portal?" Castiel asked.

The door swung open then and Bartholomew came in, another angel ahead of him with Bartholomew's blade pressed into the small of his back.

"Thank you, Metatron," he said, "But we know all we need to know now. Ezra here has been most helpful."

"Ezra," Metatron sighed. "You pathetic creature, what did you tell them?"

"Everything I know," Ezra whimpered. "I am sorry, Sir, but he was going to kill me."

"Still am," Bartholomew said. There was a blaze of light as he thrust his blade through Ezra's back so far that the tip tore through the front of Ezra's suit. "I know, for example, that there is a way home with a spell," he went on as if there had been no interruption. "I just don't know the ingredients. I know it is something that—to use your words, Metatron—no reaper, angel or human would sacrifice."

Metatron looked down at the body of his former subordinate and then back up at Bartholomew. "I will tell you nothing."

"Oh, you will," Bartholomew said. "We know how the portal works, so we will be able to get you to jail quite easily. I am sure, given enough time, you will be willing to give up the information we so ardently desire." He smiled slightly. "In short, Metatron, you're going to give me everything I want."

Sickened, Sam watched him roll Ezra's body with a foot until it rolled into the flames and broke the line of fire. Before Metatron could move, Bartholomew stepped over Ezra and bent, pinning Metatron's arms behind his back.

"Tessa," he said. "Would you oblige us by taking us two miles due north? There is apparently a children's playground where the portal is currently located."

Tessa nodded, glanced at Sam and Dean, said, "I will be in touch," and then she, Bartholomew and Metatron were gone.

For a moment, there was silence in the room. Sam didn't know about the others, but he was trying to wrap his mind around what had happened.

"What now?" Kevin asked.

"We go home," Dean said with a smile. "Cas, you coming? I think your deal with Bart counts as honored now. "

Castiel nodded. "I would like that. I would like that very much."

Dean grinned at him. "Awesome, because we've still got work to do."

So… Kevin's back, Metatron's trapped, and they've got a clue for the spell. If it wasn't for Castiel and his grace, I'd call that a successful chapter.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx