Saints or Sinners | {BOOK 3}

17| Playing Sorry

"Okay, just hang on, Cass," Dean said. "Wait. Let us catch up to you for a second."

"So, you're saying you remember who you are, what you are," I clarified.

"Yes. Of course," Cass nodded. "Oh. Outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee. I saw the route of flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add."

"You might want to add a little Thorazine," Sam muttered.

"Right?" Meg agreed. "He's been like the naked guy at the rave ever since he woke up. Totally useless."

Cass looked over at Meg and sighed.

"Would you look at her?" he asked dreamily. "My caretaker. All of that thorny pain. So beautiful."

Dean and I gaped as Meg rolled her eyes.

"We've been over this. I don't like poetry. Put up or shut up."

"Okay," Sam cut in. "So, Cass, you said you woke up last night?"

Cass tore his gaze from Meg to look at the younger Winchester.

"Yes. I heard a ping that pierced me, and, well, you wouldn't have heard it unless you were an angel at the time."

I handed Cass the bag we were using to carry the mysterious stone tablet in.

"That's also when we opened this," I informed him.

"Oh. Of course," Cass nodded, taking out the tablet. "Now I understand."

"Understand what?" Sam asked.

"You were the ones," the angel continued, ignoring the question. "Well... I guess that makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Dean demanded.

"If someone was going to free the Word from the vault of the earth, it would end up being you three. Oh, I love you guys."

I moved out of the way so I wouldn't get sandwiched into the hug as Cass wrapped his arms around both Sam and Dean. Meg and I were both laughing as we watched the exchange.

"Oh. Uck. Okay. Alright. Okay," Dean babbled.

Sam patted Cass briefly on the back and the angel finally backed off, moving over closer to me.

"Yeah, yeah," Sam addressed him. "You- you said something about the Word. Is that what's written on there?"

"Did you know that a cat's penis is sharply barbed along its shaft?" Cass asked, leaning closer to me. "I know for a fact the females were not consulted about that."

I couldn't help laughing as Sam and Dean stared dumbstruck at the angel. Meg was smirking as she leaned against the wall by the door.

"Cass, please," Dean interrupted, "we're losing ground out there, okay? We need your help. Can you not see that?"

"This is the handwriting of Metatron," Cass said, looking down at the tablet still in his hands.

"Metatron?" Sam echoed. "You're saying a Transformer wrote that?"

"No. That's Megatron," Dean corrected.

"What?" Sam asked.

"The Transformer- that's Megatron," Dean elaborated.

"What?" Sam repeated.

"Metatron. He's an angel," Cass explained before Dean could continue arguing with Sam over Transformers. "He's the scribe of God. He took down dictation when creation was being formed."

"And that's the Word of God," I gestured to the tablet.

"One of them, yes."

"Uh... what's it say then?" Sam asked.

"Uh... 'tree'," Cass looked up at us. "'Horse'? 'Fiddler Crab'? I can't read it. It wasn't meant for angels."

"Okay, this all sounds bad," Meg piped up. "What are you three jackasses doing with the Word of God? Let me see that thing."

"Back off, Meg," Dean snapped at her.

"Come on, it's my ass, too," she argued.

"Back off."

"Damn it! Enough of this 'demons are second-class citizens' crap!"

"Don't like conflict," Cass said, disappearing.

The tablet that he had been holding fell to the floor, breaking into three pieces.

"Uh..." Sam blinked.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked.

"You heard him. He doesn't like conflict," Meg said. "He's in the dayroom now. I guarantee it."

"Alright, Ellie and I will handle Cass," Dean said. "Sam, will you please pick up the Word of God?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

I followed Dean back down the hall to find the dayroom. When we got there, Cass was sitting with his back to us.

"You realize you just broke God's Word?" Dean asked as he moved in front of him.

Cass looked away and Dean took a seat across from him. I silently sat next to Cass, ready to jump in as soon as Dean started to get angry.

"It's Sam's thing, isn't it?" Dean continued. "You taking on his, uh, cage-match scars. I'm guessing that's what broke your bank, right?"

"Well, it took... everything to get me here," Cass said.

"What are you talking about, man?"

"Dean, I know you want different answers."

"No, I want you to button up your coat and help us take down the Leviathans. Do you remember what you did?"

Instead of answering, Cass held up the game "Sorry!" I snorted as he shook it once and the entire game appeared on the table, all set up and ready to play. Cass set the box aside.

"Do one of you want to go first?"

⁘

I picked up a "Sorry!" card, reading it silently as Cass talked.

"You know, we weren't sure at first which monkeys were gonna make it. No offense, but I-"

I moved one of my pieces on the board.

"-was backing the Neanderthals because their poetry was... just amazing. It's in perfect tune-"

Cass picked up a card of his own.

"-with the spheres. But in the end it was you- the-"

He moved one of his pieces.

"-homo sapiens. You guys ate the apple, invented pants."

"Cass, where can we find this Metatron?" Dean tried asking. "Is he still alive?"

"I'm sorry," Cass apologized to him. "I-I think you have to go back to start."

Dean moved his piece accordingly.

"This is important," Dean pressed.

Cass motioned for Dean to pick up a card for his turn, and he did before moving his game piece.

"I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad," Dean continued as I took my turn. "You understand that?"

"We live in a 'sorry' universe," Cass said, taking his turn. "It's engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from... your misfortune."

He put down one of his pieces and sent one of my pieces back to start this time.

"You made some of them. When you tried to become God, when you cut that hole into that wall."

"Dean... it's your move."

I jumped as Dean pounded his fist on the table and then swiped the whole game onto the floor.

"Forget the damn game!" he yelled. "Forget the game, Cass."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"No. You're playing 'Sorry!'"