Winged 5

A Few Eons in...

Eons Later...

The Winchesters sat in the bunker talking with Chuck, God himself, trying to make sense of everything. Finally, after the many years of watching the Winchester's, God actually decided to make a move. Someone should've broke Amara out of her box a long time ago if you ask me, but that's not my place to say. However, God could at least speed things up just a little bit and get on with the problem at hand, instead he decides on diddling about and I'm left sitting in a bar with Metatron.

He keeps going through the book God wrote earlier, drinking more and more. He's overthinking everything, trying to figure it all out, but it just makes him more depressed and I can't help but become slightly worried for him. It's not long before the television in the bar grabs his attention and he's away climbing the bar itself to get a better look. I just watch him, curious to his next move. He then sits on the bar, crossed legged and pulls out his phone. I can't hear the conversation he has and curiosity always got the better of me, but I was unfortunate to reach him just as he ended the call.

"Come of the counter Metatron." I say to him gently, to which he obliges and takes a seat at the counter. I watch him curiously and hesitate to take a seat by him. Nothing is said but him ordering two drinks and then passing me one.

"You shouldn't let him get you down so much."

"How long have you been by his side?" He questions me.

"I've been aware of his movements. I haven't been by his side. I too, was left in heaven if you recall."

"But you still knew where he was. If he kept in touch with you, surely he knew how much we needed him."

"It's God. I was given direct orders, I had to obey. If things were different, you know I would have said something, but... he's God. Who does God listen to, apart from himself?" I finish the small drink in front of me and let the silence fall once again between us. It's only a couple of hours later when Metatron speaks up.

"Uh, barkeep, dos margaritas! Top-shelf tequila please for my amigos. Their treat."

I furrow my brows when I look up and find the bottle that sat in front of me was moved and a hand was gestured for me to move a seat. I look to see whose hand it was, to come face to Dean Winchester himself.

"All right. We're here. Don't try to pull any crap" I hear Sam from the other side of Metatron. Turning around to face him only to hiss.

"Metatron. What are you doing?"

"I've lost my grace. Look at me. I got nothing." He replies, only causing me to fix him with a glare, as I now realised who he was on the phone to.

"Why did you call them here? Metatron."

"I've noticed you've been in touch with Chuck. A.K.A you know who."

"Yeah, yeah. Is this going anywhere? Yes, Chuck agreed to take on Amara." Sam stated. I raised my eyes to Sam in shock.

"He said that? Used those words?" Metatron asked.

"Pretty much" Dean said, clearly fed up. Metatron looked up to Dean, then in an instant looked at me.

"Huh." He faced down towards his drink, seeming emotionless.

"So what – he's not confronting Amara?" Sam questioned.

"No..." I trailed off looking at Metatron trying to find more of an answer. I was being kept in the dark for most of this, which was suddenly strange. After years of keeping some sort of tabs on the Winchester's, I had suddenly been tasked with other duties that kept me from knowing what they were up to.