All in the name of Love (Supernatural x Reader x Avengers)

Chapter 13

Metatron was sitting in the Lotus position, meditating. He heard Dean come closer, but did not do anything to acknowledge his presence. "You can save the humble-pie Jesus routine for somebody who gives a damn." Dean tried to get his attention.

"The problem with you, Dean, is the cynicism. Always with the cynicism. But most people, even the real belly crawlers living in filth, or Brentwood, they don't want to be cynical. They just want something to believe in." Metatron's tone was condescending and had the edge of a knife. Dean scoffed. "And that'd be you?"

Metatron opened his eyes, "Why not me?" Dean was at the end of his tether. "You've been working those people outside for, what, a day? They've already spilled blood in your name. You are nothing but Bernie Madoff with wings."

That seemed to have hit a nerve. Metatron stood up to his full potential, which was not a lot to begin with. "So I'm a fake. Do you have any idea how much pan-cake makeup and soft lighting it took to get God to work up a rope line? He hated it. And, you know, humans sense that. So they prayed harder and fought more wars in his name. And for what? So they could die of malaria? Leukemia? And all the while, blaming themselves! 'Oh if only I'd been more prayerful, God would have loved me! God would have saved me!' You know what? God didn't even know their name! But I do. Because I've walked among them. And I can save them."

"Sure you can. So long as your mug is in every Bible and 'what would Metatron do' is on every bumper." Dean indulged him. Metatron was furious. "And what? Are you blaming me for giving them what they want? Giving them a brand they can believe in?"

Dean slowly unwrapped the cloth in his hand to reveal the First Blade. "I'm blaming you for Kevin. I'm blaming you for taking Cas' grace. Hell, I'm blaming you for (Y/N) not talking to me anymore, refusing to even look at me. Whatever it is, I'm blaming you." Metatron eyed the blade with renewed interest. It had been a while. "The First Blade. Nasty piece of work, isn't it? Okay, let's say you win, Dean, and I die. What's the world left with then, hmm? A herd of panty-waisted angels and you? Half out of your mind with Lord knows what pumping through those veins?"

"Yeah, you see, the only thing you've said that went into my ears is that you die." Dean walked up to Metatron. The blade was working its magic. His lust for blood had returned, this time stronger than ever.

"Oh, fine. We'll fight. I don't know what you expect is gonna come out of all of this. Unless...that's why you're stalling! Because you know nothing's gonna come out of this unless your pals succeed upstairs. Well, here's a news flash - Humpty and Dumpty are starring in their very own version of 'Locked Up Abroad: Heaven' right now." Metatron smiled, a smile which annoyed Dean to no extent. He thrust the blade out to stab him, but Metatron blocked the blow. Dean resorted to punching him in the face with his other hand, making him stumble back.

Metatron waited for his vision to clear. "Wow, that big blade and that.... douchy tribal tat sure gave you some super juice." He hooted, "Okay." Dean charged again, ready to ram into Metatron but the Scribe of God had his defenses ready. He flung Dean against the far wall, at least ten feet above the ground. Quickly and painfully, the elder Winchester slid down.

-

"That's their car." Tony pointed out the Impala from his vantage point of altitude. The two of you had been scouring the city from the skies for the better part of the hour. Tony was clad in his armour, an arm wrapped around you so you could be in on the journey. You, in turn, had your arms wrapped around his neck and legs around his shin for extra protection. "And that's him! Tony, land!" You pointed at Sam's unconscious figure lying by the vehicle.

"Please don't be dead." You prayed as you kneeled beside him and slapped him across the face approximately thrice, alternating sides with each turn. Sam woke up with a start. "(Y/N)? What are yo-" As his memory cleared, he made a dash for the homeless encampment, grabbing you by the hand and Tony on your heels.

-

Metatron's small stature was more than capable of fooling his opponent. For instance, he had taken on Dean Winchester - a man twice his size - and had beaten him to a pulp. Blood was spurting out of his nose, mouth, even his ears. Metatron bent down and landed a final savage punch to Dean's face.

Dean was slipping in and out of consciousness. From the corner of his eyes, he spotted the First Blade, lying just beyond his reach. That was not a problem. He opened his palm and the blade flew into his hand. He raised it but before he could cause any damage, Metatron thrust his blade in Dean's chest, right up to the hilt. There was silence everywhere, for Dean did not have the strength to scream.

"NO!" The silence was pierced by Sam's scream. He made a beeline for his brother. You, on the other hand, froze - unable to comprehend what had just happened. Tony stopped at your side too.

Sam let Dean lean over him as he helped him sit against the wall. "Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey." He tried and failed at keeping his panic buried. Vengeance consumed the younger Winchester as he turned around, fully intent on ending the one who had brought his brother into such an agonizing state; but before he could take action, Metatron had disappeared in thin air.

"Sammy, you got to get out of here before he comes back." Dean warned in a gravelly voice. He was growing weak. Sam made him go quiet at once. "Shut up, shut up. Just save your energy, alright? Oh, man, we'll stop the bleeding. We'll- we'll find you a doctor or-or I'll find a spell or (Y/N) can heal you like she has done for us hundreds of times. You're gonna be okay."

Sam pressed a cloth to Dean's chest to stop the bleeding and desperately called out to you. "(Y/N)?"

The sheer pain in his voice jerked you back into reality. Tony swooped you into his arms and ran to where Sam and Dean were. "Come on, (Y/N), do your thing." He whispered.

"You're going to be fine, Dean." You drew energy from the deep crevices of your soul just to stay still. The proximity was overwhelming, fear could not be granted victory. You pressed your hands on the gaping wound and channeled all your energy into it as your eyes lit up in purple.