Meant To Be {1} (Dean Winchester)

Chapter 23

My eyes catch that the door is slightly opened and I push on it, pushing it open. Sam, Brooke, and I enter the hotel room, finding it piled high with books, only a path leading around available. We follow the path, leading into what I presume to be the living room.

I come to a stop, my hand immediately going out and stopping Brooke from stepping any further which makes Sam stop as well. We all look at the short, curly hair, geeky man standing before us, aiming a rifle at the three of us.

Well, shit.

"Who're you?" The curly haired man, who I assume was Metatron asked?

I rose an eyebrow, looking at the man before turning to Sam, "Metatron? This is Metatron?"

Suddenly, Metatron disappears and reappears behind us, causing the three of us to jump and turn to him. "Sit down," He nods to the single chair and some stacks of books. I take the chair, Brooke sitting on the arm rest, while Sam sits on some books. He scrunches his face in pain, clutching his head.

Metatron continues to talk, keeping the gun pointed at us, "Who sent you?"

Sam speaks up, half-shouting as he yells, "We came on our own. We're the Winchesters."

Brooke holds up her hand, "I'm a Myers, Brooklyn Myers."

"I'm Dean, this is Sam."

"You work for Michael? Or Lucifer?"

Raising an eyebrow at the man, I'm slightly confused. How could this man not know us? It seems like every supernatural creature out there knows us. Hell, half the supernatural world is after us.

Brooke, seeming to read my thoughts, speaks up, "Wait, you really haven't heard of us?"

Sam, still shouting, says, "What kind of angel are you, we're— we're the freaking Winchesters."

Going back to Metatron's original question, I say, "Michael and Lucifer? Those- those dudes are in the deep fryer."

"Yeah. We put them there ourselves," Sam shouts, making me give him a side glance. He's still holding his head in pain, but seems to catch everything that's being said.

"What about Gabriel? And Raphael?" Metatron asks, lowering the gun lightly, seeming surprised.

Sam shouts out, "Dead."

"You really don't know this?" I ask, starting to lose faith in this guy. If he is Metatron, how could he not know any of this?

"I've been very careful," He says, eyeing the three of us.

Sam speaks up again, seeming to finally give us an idea of what's making him cringe in pain, "Hey, can you— can you turn that down?"

"Turn what dow— oh. You're resonating," Metatron says, his mouth dropping slightly as he lowers the rifle.

I raise an eyebrow, "Resonating?"

Metatron starts explaining, seeming to trust us more, "You've undertaken the trials. You're trying to pull one of the great levers, aren't you? You're pretty far along, too. You get that far along, you start resonating with the Word. Or with its source on the material plane. With me."

"You said you were being careful. Careful how?" Brooke asked, seeming to want answers as much as I did.

Metatron pulls up a chair, talking as he does so and sits down. "I'm not one of them. I'm not an archangel. Really more run-of-the-mill. I worked in the secretarial pool before God chose me to take down the Word. Anyway, he... seemed very worried about his work, what would happen to it when he left, so he had me write down instructions. Then, he was gone. After that, the archangels took over. And they cried, and they wailed. They wanted their father back. I mean, we all did. But then... then they started to scheme. The archangels decided if they couldn't have Dad, they'd take over the universe themselves. But they couldn't do anything that big without the Word of God. So I began to realize, maybe they would realize... they needed me."