29. The Inside Man and the Scribe of God

This kind of stuff just has to involve candles and sitting around at a table. Let me guess, we'll be holding hands and chanting Latin next.

Oliver Pryce, Sam, Cas, and myself are seated around a table.

"You got anything that belonged to the deceased?" Pryce asks.

"Yes. Right here," says Sam, producing a hat from a bag. I lick my lips as I observe the hat on the table. I can picture Bobby underneath it, although I don't like how I notice a hole in the upper part of it. I shudder, not wanting to imagine how Bobby bit the dust.

"Good. Now shut up and hold hands." Looking nervously, we all take hands. Pryce closes his eyes. "Amate spiritus obscure, Te quaerimus. Te oramus, nobiscum colloquere, apud nos circita."

"Uh, what do we do now?" I whisper.

"Guess we give it a try, see if we get anything in response," Sam says. "Bobby? Bobby, can you hear me? Bobby, we need your help."

For a while, I begin to think that this is wasted time for us.

But then we all hear it, clear as day: "Sam?"

I gasp out loud. I haven't heard Bobby's voice in...it's been at least two decades, I think. "B-Bobby?"

"Who else is with you, Sam?"

"You're not gonna believe it when you hear it. It's me, Bobby. Josette."

"Nah, that's not Jo. She doesn't sound like that."

I chuckle. "Bobby, you've missed a hell of a lot since you've been gone."

"She's right, Bobby," says Sam. And he begins to tell what Bobby has missed out on: mostly about Leviathans, nasty creatures which I'm glad I never got to meet; trials that Sam nearly killed himself doing all to shut down the gates of Hell (which obviously didn't happen); angels falling out of Heaven thanks to Metatron; through Cas, me finding my way back to the hunting life.

The worst thing for Bobby to stomach is when Sam and I recount how I went from my original body to a meat-suit with different looks, different voice, and everything. But then our focus shifts to the real issue at hand: Dean and the Mark of Cain.

"And, uh, that's what's been happening...the short version of it, anyway," Sam says. "You still there, Bobby?"

"Yeah, Sam. It's just...Real good to hear your voice. I'm not sure whether it should bring me joy or break my heart that you're with him, Jo."

I sigh. "It's okay for both."

"Okay. If, uh, I'm understanding right, you got to figure a way to get the Mark of Cain off Dean before it turns him back into a demon?"

"Pretty much, yeah," I say. "And personally, one demon Winchester is enough."

"So, just another day at the office for you, huh? Put Dean on the line."

"Dean's not here."

"Why not?"

"We...Dean's, um...He's not in a good place right now, Bobby," Sam says.

"So what's the play?"

"Each soul in Heaven is locked in its own private paradise," Cas explains. "That's where you are now. You need to escape. You need to find the gate to Earth and open it. Then you and I will find Metatron, the Scribe of God."

"Is it bad timing for me to volunteer in this prison break?" I ask. "I mean, I know you and Bobby will know Heaven better than I ever will, but I want to help."

"Hey, Sam, you remember when this job was just chopping up some fang and tossing back a cold one?" asks Bobby.

"I miss that," Sam says.

"Ditto. So, while I'm playing Steve McQueen, anyone gonna be looking for me?"

"Everyone," says Cas. "The angels will not like a soul wandering free."

"We got a way to slow them down?"

"Not exactly," says Sam. "But, um, you'll...you'll figure something out, Bobby. You always do."

"Listen, I appreciate the warm fuzzy, but I ain't exactly playing on the big leagues these days. I'm mostly drinking and reading the classics. Truth is, I'm rusty. And maybe there's somebody better out there."

"There isn't, Bobby," I say. "And w-with the way Dean is...This is all we got."

"Hell, I'm already dead. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I always knew there was a reason I liked you, Bobby Singer," I say, smiling. "That fuck-it attitude."

"So, where do we start?"

"You need to find your Heaven's escape hatch," Cas says. "Look for something that shouldn't be there, and that's your way out."

Once we hear Bobby go radio silent, we thank Oliver Pryce for all his help, and we hop back into my truck, heading for the playground. If this plan pulls through, Cas and I will leap into Heaven and get Metatron out with us.

"You sure he can handle this?" asks Cas. I've parked the truck, and we're watching, waiting for Heaven's door to open.

"He's Bobby," Sam says, as though that's explanation enough. "He can handle anything."

"Uh, Sam?" I ask. "How did Bobby...go?"

Sam looks at me uncomfortably. "He got shot by the head Leviathan. You don't have to worry about going on a revenge spree, he's been taken care of."

"Damn." I pout, sliding against the driver's seat. I sit up when I see light up ahead.

Bobby did it. As if we had any doubt in him.

"Go," Sam urges. "Go!"

The three of us scramble out of the truck. The angel guard notices something's up, but Sam takes care of him, giving Cas and I free clearance. We both leap into the white light at the same time, finding ourselves sliding into the halls of Heaven.

I cover my eyes. Everything is too pearly white. It's an overload for me.

"I should've expected Heaven to be so shiny," I grunt.

"Welcome to the party."

Squinting through the light, my eyes focus in on Bobby. He helps Cas to his feet first before helping me to mine. He blinks at me, and I just roll my eyes.

"Yeah, I know. I guess my midlife crisis came earlier than I wanted it to," I joke. "You know, new everything."

"The prison," Cas says, refocusing me, "it's, uh...it's close."

"Uh-huh. Cas, Jo, where's Dean?" asks Bobby.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Dean's, uh...he's resting. He's...sick, and..."

"Try again."

"Dean doesn't know we're doing this," I blurt out.

"Well, that's a page right out of the Winchester playbook, ain't it?"

"Vintage Winchester. Look, Dean's given up."

"And you idjits haven't."

God, I forgot how that was Bobby's coined word. "Would you?"

"Hell, no."

"Glad to know we're not alone in that."

"Follow me."

"Hey, Bobby, uh, what'd you do to distract the guards here?" I ask.

"I improvised."

"I couldn't expect anything less from you."

"You came back, even after you left."

"Somethings you just can't escape. Although, I didn't exactly call for this to happen." I gesture to my body. "Side-effect, unfortunately."

"Well, howdy, fellas," is the greeting we get from Metatron once we find his cell.

"This is the Scribe of God?" Bobby asks. "He looks like a Fraggle."

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment. That was an excellent program."

"Metatron, we are here—" Cas begins to explain.

"I know why you're here, 'Asstiel,' and I'm not interested. I told you I would rather die than let Dean Winchester use me as his personal punching bag again."

"Don't worry," I say sweetly, "Dean's not involved. You're gonna be my punching bag, and maybe Cas's too if I'm nice enough to share."

"Ah. The 'B' team, huh? Interesting. Keys are over there. Chop-chop!"

"Are you sure this is the only way?" Bobby asks Cas and me.

I sigh. "Unfortunately."

Cas is the one to keep hold of Metatron, as it's better for all of us that I don't touch the Scribe of God. I still have a lot of beef with that douchebag, especially since he killed me and Dean. I'd love to wring his stupid little neck. Or maybe, I'll kill him the way he killed Dean and me.

Well, I'll figure it out once we find Metatron has no value to us.

"Hey, Jo?"

"Yeah, Bobby?"

"You mind doing me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Give this to Sam." I feel a folded piece of paper get transferred into my hand.

"O-of course."

"Look, I know you may be different now, but I can still see the real you. It peeks out every now and again. Don't lose that."

I nod fervently. "I forgot just how much I missed you, Bobby."

"Come on, kid, don't get sappy on me now." He offers me a waning smile.

"Oh, come on." I nudge him in the shoulder. "Without me in the picture, there'd be no sap. Someone has to since my brothers aren't that way."

"Josette," Cas calls. He has Metatron near the door out of Heaven.

"Thank you, Bobby, for this," I say sincerely.

"Always happy to help out my kids," he says.

Boy, does that hit me hard in the chest. My kids. I always knew Bobby considered us his. But for that to hit me, even with this raging darkness inside of me, that's really saying something.

In a moment of weakness, I hug Bobby. Giving him a parting nod, I leave with Cas and Metatron, leaving Heaven and Bobby behind. If only we'd had more time, we could've caught up properly.

"Sam-tastic!" Metatron greets Sam once we're back in the playground. "Miss me? Oh, smell that? That smells like freedom. Well, let's go. I call shotgun!"

"Oh hell no," I say. "Not in my truck, you're not. You don't get to make demands, Metatron. You're not in charge here."

"Oh, I'm afraid I am. I know about the Mark. I have Castiel's Grace. I make the rules. It's called leverage, folks. Learn it, live it, love it."

I pull out an angel blade, slicing into Metatron's throat, not deep enough to kill him, but deep enough to let the wispy, white Grace pour from his throat. I herd it into a glass jar that Cas hands me. Cas then heals the wound for Metatron, just to give the Scribe about a moment's peace before Sam shoots him in the leg.

"Ow!" Metatron howls.

"We have your Grace, Metatron," Cas says coldly. "You're mortal now. So you will answer our questions, or Sam and Josette will, um...What's the phrase? Blow your fricking brains out. It's called leverage, Metatron."

"'Learn it, live it, love it,'" Sam mocks. "How do we get rid of the Mark?"

"I-I don't know," Metatron squeaks. I hoist the mortal Scribe by the throat lightly. "I don't know! No, i-it's old magic...God-level magic! Or Lucifer level, but you can't ask him, exactly, can you?"

"What about the tablets?" asks Cas.

"No, th-there's...there's nothing in them about the Mark."

"So when you said 'The river ends at the source,' that was—" says Sam.

"I was just making up crap, trying to buy time 'til I could screw you over."

"You little weasel," I hiss.

"What?! It's worked before."

I point the angel blade at Metatron's stomach. "Boy, won't it be fun to slay your ass."

"He's telling the truth," says Cas.

"What?"

"Sam, shoot him."

"No, no!" Metatron says. "No! Your Grace! I wasn't lying about that. There's still some left. I'll take you to it."

I breathe through my nostrils, staring at the mortal Scribe. "It's your call, Cas." But you might wanna make it fast, because I'm about a minute away from killing Metatron.

"We need him alive," Cas says after a minute. "Josette?"

"Better do as he says, Buffy," Metatron sneers. "If you want his Grace back, you need me to guide you there."

I shove Metatron away, standing straight. Easy, girl. Easy. The time will come. It will. You just have to be patient. "Fine, okay. We'll play this little game." I snort. "But, since you're gonna be leading Cas, you're leading me too. I'm coming with you." I look back at Sam. "You're smart enough to think up a story for me. Or just tell Dean I went with Cas on a case or something."

"You gonna take your truck?"

"No, you'll take it back to the bunker." I toss Sam the keys. "Drop us off near Cas's car and take her on home. I expect her to be in the same condition I handed her to you in when I get back." I look back at Metatron and grab his arm. "Come on, Metadouche, you're gonna lead us to the treasure."

"Could you ease up the grip a little?" Metatron hisses. "I don't want to lose an arm."

"Piss me off and you'll lose much more than that, bucko."

**[cries] That brief Bobby and Jo moment. </3

But at the same time, Jo's constant threatening of Metatron. *evil laughter*

So, who's ready for a road trip with Cassette and Metadouche?! [raises hand]**