esoteric ↯ dean winchester x reader

xxiii.

"He must be returned intact. Is that clear?" She whispered.

"Yes." Castiel takes the prisoner. Ingrid and her companion leave through the portal. Castiel takes off the prisoner's hood and reveals who you expected to be Metatron, The Scribe of God.

"Told you last time I saw you I'd get out of the slammer." Metatron mocked.

"It's temporary, trust me." Castiel pulled him to the car.

"Well, speaking of temporary, you must've borrowed some more grace. You're looking very good." Metatron teased, "Of course, we both know that won't last. Is that why I'm here? You think I'm gonna help you?"

"This isn't about me." Castiel said.

"Of course not. The great Castiel never stoops to such selfishness. So what is it then?" Metatron asked. Sam opens the front passenger door and gets out.

"Oh, I see. I'm betting you didn't tell Ingrid about him. Hello, Sam! Here to kill me?" Metatron greeted, then you also stepped out, "And who's this lovely thing?"

"None of your concern." Sam grabbed him and threw him in the back.

~

"Lovely room." Metatron sits chained in a chair in the dungeon. You and Sam approach him, "It's where you bring the kinky chicks like this one, am I right?"

"I'll ask the questions here." Sam put more chains around Metatron, "You... Your only job is to provide information."

"Ah. Well, information does happen to be a specialty. Got about two billion fun facts up here." Metatron boasted, "Of course, whether I choose to cough one up or not is another matter."

"We need to know how to remove the Mark of Cain from Dean's arm." You spoke up.

"What? He's back? Because of the Mark?" Metatron was incredulous, you had heard he killed Dean and you very much so wanted to stab him, "So... he's a demon."

"No." You told him.

"Okay, what then?" Metatron was confused, Sam looked troubled. "What, did he 'kill a human' or something?"

Sam crossed his arms. You walked around him.

"He's gone nuclear! Total, foaming at the mouth, balls-out maniac. Ah, haha – that's fantastic!" Metatron cheered.

"Do you know how to remove it?" Sam remained calm.

"Maybe. But here's the thing. You expect any help out of me, you keep that crazy brother of yours on a short leash." Metatron got serious.

"Buddy, I don't care what happens to you. You killed my brother." Sam said turning around to face Dean, who is walking into the dungeon.

"Ain't life a bitch?" Metatron announced Dean into the dungeon. "Nebbishy little guy – me – always sticking it to the lunkhead jocks."

"You know what, screw the Mark. Let's just kill him." Dean suggested, staring at him as if he were a little twig he wanted to snap.

"Boy, he really is a mess." Metatron sincerely looked to Sam who sat on the table, "Who knew the Mark was so toxic? Well, actually, I did." Metatron laughed, "You know it is going to own you sooner than later."

"Yeah, so how do we get rid of it?" You pushed through.

"What, just like that, social hour's over? We haven't even gotten to know each other." He looked you up and down as you walked past him, you grabbed his hair and spoke into his ear:

"If you should be scared of anyone in this room, it should be me." You threw his head back down with force.

"Wow, I like my woman a little rough around the edges. Where'd you guys dig up-" Metatron was ready to continue.

"You don't get to ask the questions here." Dean cut him off, obviously getting angrier the more things he said. "And now we'll move on to our keynote speaker."

"Which is you. With us asking the questions." Dean moved forward, grabbing onto Metatrons chair, "And me taking the personal pleasure of carving the answers out of you."

"Now, just – whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there, badass!" Metatron defended himself, "Lighten up! Why do you just assume I'm not gonna be helpful?"

"Because you're a dickwad." Sam heckled.

"But I'm your dickwad. I have a special place in my non-heart for you both." Metatron turned his eyes to you, "And a very special place in my-"

"Don't you dare say another word about her." Dean cut him off.

"Ooo, that upsets you doesn't it." Metatron smiled at his new discovery, "We'll come back to that later because now: ta-daa! I'd be tickled to help you pop this biblical zit. To do it, you are gonna need one specific thing. Your old bud – the First Blade."

"What?" Sam said, looking at you. You were both frightened. This didn't look good for anybody if Dean had the blade.

"As I said: ain't life a bitch."