18. The Next Step

Dean got into contact with Crowley, who was the sole person—demon, whatever—that knew the location of the First Blade. My brothers went to talk with the King of Hell, I decided to opt out. It's highly likely that His Royal Highness didn't realize that he had Josette Winchester in Hell for some time before she broke out somehow.

I got a call from Dean saying that Crowley's gonna fetch us the Blade from somewhere in Guam, apparently.

Since Crowley was doing his part, we're doing ours by waiting. While Sam and Dean were making the drive back to the bunker, I reached out to Cas to keep him informed as to what was going on. He didn't say much, except that he's making his way to the bunker and we'd talk more when he got here.

Dean's disappeared, and I'm perched on the end of one of the library tables. Sam's seated in the war room, and I'm swinging my legs out of boredom.

"The First Blade is back in play, and Crowley is the one getting it?"

I slide off the table, walking into the war room, as Cas comes down the steps.

"I don't mean to be an alarmist, but you—"

"Yeah well, you know us," says Dean. I turn to see my older brother coming in with a beer bottle. It's definitely one of those kinds of nights. "When we screw ourselves we like to go whole hog."

"This would be the Crowley who let the Blade turn Dean into a demon?" Cas is down the stairs now, and I step into the war room.

"I don't have a choice, 'kay? I don't do this, I'm down the rabbit hole. Hear evil, see evil, do evil. The trifecta."

"Cas, look," I say firmly. "Let us worry about this. You've got enough on your plate with Claire."

"Claire is gone," says Cas.

I frown. "Gone where?"

"I don't know, I—I should have stopped her. But I am certain that she is destined for more trouble and disappointment. She is so...so full of rage."

"Listen, man, if I could make it better I would," Dean says sincerely.

"It's actually why I'm here. I was hoping you might reach out to her."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Seriously, I'm probably the last person she would wanna hear from. Hell, I'd bet she'd have better luck with Jo than me."

"I thought there would be a connection," Cas says earnestly. "One extremely messed up human to another, you could explain why you murdered her only friend."

"Oh, well, yeah, when you put it like that."

"All I know"—Cas sits down—"is she won't talk to me. I thought if she understood the kind of man Randy was and the danger she was in, she might..."

"What the hell, why not?" says Dean. "Long shots seem to be the theme around here. I'm gonna go make a sandwich."

"I'll, uh—I'll text you her number."

"Okay."

Cas has his phone in hand. "I like texting. Emoticons." But Dean's already left the room. "He seems calm. Considering the effects of the Mark. Metatron in proximity."

"Yeah..." I say. I walk by Cas, ruffling his dark hair, before I tail after Dean.

I trot through the halls until I find his fleeing figure. Dean slows temporarily, half-turning long enough to realize that I'm following him.

"Jo, go back," he tells me.

"I know where you're going. Who says that I want to go cry wolf back to Sam and Cas about it?" I say, joining my brother. I tap the angel blade bouncing off my side through the belt loop. "Besides, since being nice didn't work, gotta amp it up, right?"

"Maybe it's good that you're coming with me. I might need you to hold me back in case things get rough."

"Dean, at this rate, we might need each other to keep from reducing Metatron to nothing."

We both enter the dungeon, and I already have the angel blade out in hand. Metatron acknowledges our entrance.

"I'm guessing you're not here to reminisce," he muses.

"All right, we did what you said," says Dean. "We have the First Blade." I hold my tongue and go with the lie.

"Not here? Not on your person?"

"Not saying. So back to you. What's next?"

"This is where it gets kind of interesting."

"Uh-huh," I say.

"It's very lonely here. And I have little to do but think. And it occurred to me that you really need this Mark taken off of you. And in order to do that, you really need me. So here's the deal. That little first tip I gave you? A freebie. Just cause you're you. Every future step—they're gonna cost you. Big. Oh, and FYI, there's a bunch."

"Jo," says Dean, without looking at me. "Shut the door."

I make sure it's locked for good measure. Things are about to get fun.

"Whatcha doing there, Slugger?" asks Metatron.

"I'm settling a score that's taken way too long to settle," says Dean. "Oh, and while I do that, I'm gonna get some information. And I'm gonna enjoy every minute of it. Because you're gonna tell me everything. All of it. And it ain't gonna cost me a damn dime. Slugger."

I rejoin Dean, standing closer towards the door in case we get interrupted. Even though Metatron killed me too, Dean has more right at first crack at Metatron. Besides, oldest goes first.

"All right," says Dean. "I'm gonna ask this exactly once, before it gets ugly. What is the next step in removing the Mark?"

"I repeat my offer. Each step costs you."

"You're confused. See, each step you don't give me—is gonna cost you. And it's been a long time coming. I mean, where do I begin? Stealing Cas's Grace. Casting out the angels. Making Gadreel kill Kevin using our brother's hands. Starting an angel war. And, oh yeah, you killed me and Jo."

Metatron scoffs. "My morality is being judged by Dean Winchester? How many people have suffered and died because they believed in you? How many times have you lied to Sam, including, oh by the way, when he was possessed by an angel? And you say, 'Oh, well, it's all for the greater good.' But lately, buddy? That greater good thing just went away, didn't it? Now, people die just because you want them to."

I feel satisfaction as Dean punches Metatron to the face.

Metatron grunts, chuckling. "Good, Dean. Go darker." Another punch to the douchebag's face. "Go deeper!" He's bleeding at the mouth now.

Dean punches four more times. Red is gushing out of Metatron's nose now, on top of his mouth.

"Surely you've noticed, every time you respond when the Mark gets you all twitchy, you fall deeper under its spell. You think roughing up a few humans and demons makes it worse? Try messing with the Scribe of God, bucko!"

I move inwards as Dean punches Metatron again. Now, a black eye is forming. Metatron is panting, Dean looks like he can do this all night.

"And Kevin's death?" Metatron has the audacity to continue. "All on you. You put him in harm's way and kept him there. Gadreel possessing Sam? Who was it that tricked Sam into letting him in? Oh, and then my personal favorite: Dean Winchester. Whose entire existence is defined by a war on the dark and monstrous—bromancing his way around the country with the King of Hell!"

Metatron's rant earns two more punches from Dean.

"Let's try this again," I say calmly, stepping closer. "What is the next step?"

"What is it you humans say so inelegantly? Oh, yes—go screw yourselves."

"You know what? Screw you, asshat." I push Dean away, yanking Metatron's hair, pointing my angel blade against his throat. I wince as I hear pounding on the door over Dean's heavy breathing.

"Dean?! Jo?!" It's Sam.

"Now it's time to get serious," I snarl, focusing on Metatron.

"Dean!" More pounding. "Jo!"

"What is the next step in removing this Mark from his arm?" Each word is soaked in venom.

"Guys, open the door," Sam demands. "Hey, open the door!"

Metatron doesn't speak.

"All right, then," I purr. I drag the silver tip across Metatron's face. I see a glimmer of angel grace peeking from the wound. I put the blade back on his throat. "What is the next step?"

Still, all I get is nothing. I go one step further, tearing open Metatron's shirt, cutting down his sternum. His scream of pain is music to my ears, and the sight of blood and Grace is a sight to behold. I feel the thrum of adrenaline in my veins.

Meanwhile, Sam can't get in; he's still pounding away at the door. But why should he stomp on this fun Dean and I are having?

"Behold," Metatron pants, "the river shall end at the source."

I look at Metatron, bewildered, but then straighten out and turn. Dean has his own angel blade in hand, and the Mark of Cain is glowing red-hot on his forearm.

I duck as the door gets blown to pieces, and Sam and Cas rush in. Sam goes straight for Dean, who's got the angel blade at Metatron's chest. I try to pull Sam away, but I'm pulled away by Cas, who's eyes are faintly glowing blue. I snarl, kicking out, showing my black beauties.

"Josette," Cas grunts. He spins me, pushing me out of the way of Metatron while Sam tries to calm Dean down.

"No, we were getting somewhere!" I insist to Cas, kicking out again. "Stop being stupid, Cas!"

Cas looks at Metatron. "I have to take him back."

"No, we weren't finished!"

"Josette, damn it!" Cas has me against the wall, and has my wrist caught and trapped. My lip curls up, exposing a snarl. I really could throw Cas away with my power, but right now, I don't feel focused enough to do so. "Get yourself under control!"

"What if I don't want to, huh, Cassie? What if I don't?" I smirk.

"Cas, this won't happen again," Sam says. I frown. I was feeling something stir inside me thanks to Cas, and Sam has to stomp on the moment. Oh well, Cas will come back. We can have some fun then.

"I gave my word. I have fences to mend in Heaven, and as it is, I have a lot to explain."

"If you ever ask me for help again, I will choose death," Metatron hisses. "You realize it's going to get worse, Dean. You're gonna get worse!"

Cas puts trust in me so that he can snatch Metatron and drag him out of the bunker. I close my eyes, counting my breaths. I was close to fighting Dean to have the honor of killing Metatron. That angel really knows how to irk a person, or demon. Or anyone really.

While Sam is near Dean, he steals a look at me. My shoulders slump, and before I can succumb to any interrogation, I slink out of the dungeon and head for my room to let the steam run out. 

**[hears collective groan] Yeah, yeah, I know. I wanted Metatron dead too, whether by Dean's hand or Jo's.**