Dean, I could really use your help down here.
I'm getting close, Sam.
I can't drop the ball on Abaddon right now.
I can give you the Mark, Dean, if it's what you truly want.
But you have to know with the Mark comes a great burden.
What is it you want of me, Metatron?
Rebuild heaven.
You want to be my second-in-command,
prove you're ready.
Gadreel, we are writing our own epic story here.
I got my grace back.
Not mine per Se, but it'll do.
Angels fighting angels has to stop somewhere.
You've showed me that there is a choice.
I'm no leader.
I will follow you.
And I am not the only one.
What makes a story work?
Is it the plot, the characters, the text?
The subtext?
And who gives a story meaning?
Is it the writer?
Or you?
Tonight, I thought I would tell you a little story...
...and let you decide. ♪
Yeah. All right.
Thanks, Carlos.
Listen, you, uh, if you catch wind of any other demon activity,
give me a holler, all right?
Appreciate it.
Hey.
- Anything? - Yeah.
A dozen demon-related cases,
people without souls acting out, but...
- But no sign of Abaddon. - Right. Looks like she's vanished.
- Well, we just got to keep digging. - Right.
- You okay? - Yeah. I'm fine.
- Let's get to work. - All right.
Please, please don't!
- Don't hurt me. - I'm not gonna hurt you.
It's okay.
What's your name?
Hannah.
Hannah, what happened here?
Yeah, I heard it, too. What was it?
I don't know.
It... It sounded familiar.
It sounded like heaven.
It's so strange down here.
I... followed the tone
and found so many of my brothers and sisters had, as well.
It felt safe here,
and then the doors slammed shut and a strange angel arrived.
He said he worked for the new God.
For Metatron?
He made us an offer...
Join Metatron, fight for him,
and those that did would one day be allowed to return to heaven.
Return to heaven?
I didn't believe him, either.
But he said he would take us home.
Some angels joined him.
My friends and I... refused, and...
I'm sorry for your loss.
For all our loss.
You're Castiel, aren't you?
Yes.
You took a stand against Bartholomew.
Are you going to help us, lead us against Metatron?
I'm no leader.
- But you... - I am no leader, Hannah.
But I will find Metatron, and I make him pay.
Let me help you.
Let us help you.
You are safer away from me.
Now, this angel who attacked you,
what was his name?
Gadreel?
Gadreel is working for Metatron?
- For how long? - I don't know.
So, Metatron made Gadreel kill Kevin?
It would explain a lot,
and there have been no new prophets,
which Metatron could have fixed to his advantage.
And Gadreel said that angels are returning to heaven? How?
I thought that the spell was irreversible.
That's what Crowley said.
Look, let's just find Gadreel, and beat some answers out of him.
Yeah, here's something to start with that.
Hold on, I'm...
Sending you a photo of the symbol
- that drew all the angels in. - Okay.
Got it.
Its acting as some kind of angel siren.
I think it's a spell.
The ingredients used to create it were very odd.
Griffin feathers, bones of a fairy.
- I've never seen it before. - Yeah. Me neither.
All right. Let me see what I can find.
"Honor bar."
What's honorable about a miniature bar in a motel room?
Everything.
How are you, Dean?
I'm fine, Cass. How about you?
I miss my wings.
Life on the road... smells.
- Hmm. - Yeah.
Listen, I got a match,
and it's not from the lore, it's from police records.
Looks like that symbol you found
was spotted at a handful of crime scenes
the last couple days, all multiple homicides.
And where were these crime scenes?
Uh, Utah, Baker, Hill Valley.
And I'm in Bishop's Falls, Utah.
Also looks like most of the crime scenes
were in industrial areas.
Looks like Gadreel is heading north.
What's the next big town?
There are two. It could be Auburn or Ogden.
All right, you take Auburn, we'll take Ogden, meet in the middle.
Didn't we work a case in Ogden?
Yeah. It was a... a witch situation, right?
Yeah.
There was that kid in town that helped us, wasn't there?
Yes. We should call him, see if he's still in business.
Yeah. What was his name?
- Good afternoon. - It's afternoon?
I wonder if I may procure from you the feathers of a Griffin?
Uh...
We got some off-the-menu items,
but, uh, this ain't Diagon Alley, man.
I saw the Hunter signs on the door, young man.
You have what I seek.
Griffin feathers, huh?
Not exactly looking to trip the light fantastic, are we?
Humans never cease to amaze me.
Excuse me?
I'm curious... do you also have fairy bones?
It does not matter what realm they were from.
Griffins and fairies... the hell you hunting, man?
Family.
Okay.
Let me see what we have here.
Sometimes you need a break
from the hustle and bustle of city life.
Hashtag am I rite?
Sometimes you need, hashtag casa erotica.
Casa erotica.
That's inappropriate.
Hello.
- Remember me, bucko? - Gabriel.
I'm gonna take that as a yes.
I need your help, brother.
I thought you were dead.
Please.
You can't take the trick out of the Trickster.
So, I assume you faked your own death?
And I assume you weren't let into Mensa while I was gone.
Where have you been?
Ohh...
You know, hither with a side of yon.
I was hiding, captain side-eyes...
...in the safest place in the universe. Heaven.
But then you and the other two stooges
had to go and ruin Christmas, now, didn't you?
- Sorry. - Oh, cry me a river.
Look...
I dropped, I hid.
I finally watched Downton Abbey.
But then, your BFF, Metatron, sent his minions out looking for me.
Apparently, he thinks since I'm an archangel
that I have extra juice.
And that you're a threat?
Yeah, but I got hurt in the fall, too.
Used most of my juice to get back into porn.
That came out wrong.
So did that.
The point is, I've been on the run.
But then, a few weeks ago,
somebody started playing my song.
The angel siren.
No.
The horn of Gabriel.
One of Dad's little party favors
that I never got around to messing with.
Metatron dug it up and started blowing.
So, I came out of hiding.
Why?
There's safety in numbers.
But Metatron was using it to trap angels,
not unite them.
It wasn't Metatron.
It was his second-in-command, Gadreel.
Gadreel?
That old chestnut? Wow!
What do you want from me?
Your help, Columbo. I'm getting the band back together.
We're going on the kill Metatron tour...
And you're looking at the new front man.
Sam.
Got an open box of feathers over here.
Dean.
We got to find Gadreel before he lights up the Bat-Signal.
This is Dean's other, other cell, so you must know what to do.
- Dean, it's me. I'm... - Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Hands-free much?
Both on the wheel. I'm precious cargo.
Hey, what's up, shorties?
Remember me, the guy who died for your sins?
No, not the cat with the beard and sandals...
The hot one.
Hey, thank you so much
for the flowers and condolences...
Really meant a lot to the fam.
Any old how, your boy-toy and I are rolling our way
towards your top secret domicile. Ooh!
Call to discuss.
Those kooky kids.
So, you've been back for months.
What have you seen out there?
After it was raining winged men? Hallelujah.
Well, you know, total nigh-biblical chaos,
Crowley and ABA-douche duking it out.
Good times.
And then there's our peeps, scattered like confetti.
There has been a lot of confusion.
You think?
Most angels aren't like us, Castiel.
They can't handle this whole free-will thing.
They're sheep... drones.
But us? We're different.
We're rebels...
One without a cause... one with.
- I'm just a soldier. - Bitch, please.
You've been God more often than Dad has.
Yeah.
Look how that worked out.
Well... go ahead.
Be a soldier all you want.
I'm gonna need as many as I can find.
Why are you doing this, Gabriel?
I always run.
From Dad, from the family.
I don't want to run anymore.
I want to do what I was meant to do. Lead.
Well, we need a leader.
And I'm happy it's gonna be you.
A little low on gas, aren't we?
Ooh...
Smell that cancer.
Delicious!
Uhh...
Remember the minions of Metatron I mentioned?
Cass, it's Sam, again.
Call us. We need your help.
Hey, douchebag.
Remember me?
We'll never keep these guys out of here.
I know. So... we fight.
No. I fight.
I lied before.
I never watched Downton Abbey.
I was just trying to fit in.
Oh, and I do have some archangel juice left.
I can hold these boneheads off long enough.
Long enough for what?
- For you to get out of here. - No, I'm not leaving you.
Yes, you are.
Those guys will cut you to ribbons.
But I can stall them long enough for you to amscray.
And you can take my place.
What are you talking about?
The angels need a leader,
and it's got to be somebody like us, somebody different.
No.
I know you don't want this burden, Castiel.
Neither do I.
What if I fail again?
You won't.
You can't.
- Thank you. - Shut up.
Haven't got all day, hot-pants.
Was any of this real?
What the hell are you talking about?
Cass, go!
So, what? We both die here?
No. You're already dead.
Well.
What gave it all away?
My coat was torn earlier today.
Oh, crap.
I really hate continuity errors.
So, none of this is real...
And I'm guessing I'm... no longer in the motel.
Here's the thing...
None of it was real, but all of it was true.
Whose truth? Yours or Metatron's?
Just hear him out, would you? He's trying to help you.
Really? How?
Sorry, didn't read the whole script.
Just... skimmed for my parts.
Well... it's good to see you, old bean.
Wait.
Are you dead?
What makes a story work?
If this is like looking into a fun-house mirror for me,
I cannot imagine what it is like for you.
How long have you been working for Metatron?
I will not talk, and you cannot make me.
Yeah?
I have been you, Sam Winchester.
Your insides reek of shame and weakness.
Sam, Sam, Sam! Sam. Come here.
Tonight, I thought I'd tell you a little story...
Let you decide.
That was my plan, anyway.
I guess that's where my story failed.
Yes.
This is "the curious incident," eh, Inspector Gregory?
Who?
Inspector Gregory.
Sherlock Holmes.
Silver Blaze?
You have been around
since scaly things crawled out of the muck.
Would it have killed you to pick up a book, watch a movie?
Here.
I know it's a bit of a retcon,
but it's gonna make this whole conversation a lot easier.
I just gave you every book, movie, and TV show
I have consumed in the last couple of millennia.
Now do you understand
that "the universe is made up of stories, not atoms?"
I understand that that's a quote by Muriel Rukeyser.
Ahh!
It can be taught.
Here are a few more lessons.
Steal from the best.
Second rule:
Every hero needs a villain.
What are you talking you about?
Hannah and her sisters...
I set all that up.
Told Gadreel, "Slaughter all those who will not join my army,
but let one live, one...
To tell the tale."
Is it true?
Can you bring angels back to heaven?
Sorry. No spoilers.
And you keep missing the point.
You're supposed to lead the angels.
I am not a leader, Metatron.
Apparently.
So... I did my homework.
The Winchester Gospels.
Pulpy stuff.
Gave me an idea, though.
You needed to be taught a lesson,
and nobody teaches lessons better than good old Gabriel.
AKA the Trickster.
So... I started typing.
And you did all this... to make me a hero?
Uh... that's priceless.
Um...
No.
You are not the hero in this masterpiece.
You are the villain.
I'm the hero.
He's not gonna crack that fast.
I know.
Maybe you could hack him like you and Crowley hacked me.
No, no, no, no. Crowley's the only one who can do that.
And I'm in no mood to call that dickbag.
We need Cass.
Any word from him?
No. I tried him again.
He hasn't called, he hasn't texted.
I turned on the GPS on his phone.
He's still in the same town where we talked to him last.
- What the hell? - I don't know.
- You got to go find him. - What?
- You're too close to this, man. - And, what, you're not?
We're not at this five minutes,
and you're already going Liam Neeson on his ass.
I got this.
So... he acts tough, and you show kindness.
Is that how this works?
No.
See, I don't care whether you talk.
You're gonna pay for what you did to him...
...and Kevin.
Do you know why I didn't kill you
after I stole your grace?
I like you.
Truly.
Among all God's little windup toys...
...you were the only one with any spunk.
I left you human because I was hoping
you would live happily ever after.
But you screwed that up, too.
And now...
...you leave me no choice.
I mean, if you want to get back on board, fine,
but you're gonna have to follow my script.
Well, based on your assessment, that doesn't sound like me.
Lead the dumb, disenfranchised, rebellious angels
against me, Castiel.
They will follow you.
And they'll all die...
...but I'm gonna save a nice, warm seat up top for you.
- You will be saved. - No.
You're gonna make me do the hard pitch, aren't you?
How's that... stolen grace inside you working out?
It's fine.
No. It's not.
It's burning out.
It's gonna burn you out.
But... I will give you
an endless supply of rechargeable batteries.
Deal?
Sorry to interrupt your writing session, sir,
but something's happened.
What's wrong?
It's Gadreel.
Word around the campfire is,
you let the snake into the garden,
ruined it for all humanity.
I set them free.
I loved humanity!
Well, you sure got a funny way of showing it, ass-hat.
Now, look, you tell me about this getting back into heaven crap,
and I'll end this quick.
Otherwise... you can sit here and rot in those chains forever.
Up to you.
All your talk, all your bluster...
You think you are invincible.
The two of you against the world, right?
Damn straight.
You really think Sam would do anything for you?
Oh, I know he would.
I have been in your brother's body, Dean.
He would not trade his life for yours.
Well, thanks for the rerun, pal.
Sam's already told me all that crap.
Hell, he's told me worse.
He told you that he has always felt that way,
that he thinks that you are just a scared little boy
who's afraid to be on his own
because Daddy never loved him enough?
And he is right, isn't he?
Right to think you are a coward...
A sad, clingy, needy...
Keep it up!
...pathetic bottom-feeder
who cannot even take care of himself.
Who would rather drag everyone through the mud than be alone,
who would let everyone around him die!
No. Do it.
Do it!
Kill me!
Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?
That's what that whole speech was about?
You're not afraid to die, are you?
You're afraid to be left in these chains forever.
Well, you can sit here and rot... you son of bitch.
Easy there, tiger.
I'm here to trade.
You have something of mine,
and I have something of yours.
Bring him here tomorrow, say... six-ish?
If not, Castiel dies.
No comebacks this time.
An even trade?
I'm an entity of my word.
Dean?
Dean!
Dean. Hey!
Are you okay?
Yeah, you got to stop asking me that.
I've been calling you.
- Why didn't you, uh... - He won't talk.
I figured.
He wanted to die, and I was gonna kill him.
I was.
But then I stopped because I know we need him to talk.
Dean, listen.
Metatron has Cass.
He's offering up a trade.
We can't trust Metatron.
I know that. Obviously.
But look, this is the first time
we're gonna know for sure where Metatron is.
Let's take Gadreel to the meet-up,
make the exchange, and then trap Metatron.
He's late.
Or he's not gonna show.
Of course I'm gonna show.
I was just waiting for you two
to finished setting up your little trap for me.
Am I hitting my mark?
Well, come on. Let's go. I'm waiting.
Either of you bring s'mores?
Holy Fire always gives them a delightful minty aftertaste.
Make a wish, boys.
No, thanks!
Bye-bye.
Well, a deal is a deal.
Why are you doing this?
Because I can.
Because you and your little brother
and your fine-feathered friend,
and all those secrets you've got locked away in your bunker
can't stop me.
But I am gonna enjoy watching you try.
It's gonna be a hell of a show.
I'll see you around, Castiel.
Never forget I gave you a chance.
Somebody want to tell me what the hell's going on here?
Metatron is trying to play God.
Play God?
Cass, he erased angel warding.
He friggin' blew out Holy Fire. He is God.
He's powering up with the angel tablet.
How the hell are we supposed to stop this guy?
All right, so what if there is a stairway to heaven?
We find it and get a drop on the guy.
You want to sneak onto the Death Star, take out the Emperor?
Okay, I'm not sure
what a fictional battle station in space has to do with this,
but if taking out the emperor means taking out Metatron,
- I'm on board. - Wait, did you...
Did you just understand a Death Star reference?
Yeah, I think so.
But I don't understand what that has to do with heaven.
It's halfway, I guess.
You sure you're all right?
Yes. Are you?
There's something different about you.
I'm fine.
What have you done?
- It's a means to an end. - Damn it, Dean.
Look, you find heaven, you drop a dime.
Meantime, I got a Knight to kill.
- Be safe out there. - You, too. Hey, Sam.
You keep an eye on him.
Is the door secure?
Yes.
The way home is safe.
Thank you, Gadreel.
How did your play turn out?
Didn't quite turn out as I'd planned,
but that is why we rewrite.
That was God's problem, you know.
He published the first draft.
You've gotta... keep at it until you get all your ducks in a row.
Was the Winchesters grabbing me part of your plan?
That was a surprise.
But, hey, what writer doesn't love a good twist?
My job... is to set up interesting characters
and see where they lead me.
The by-product of having well-drawn characters is...
...they may surprise you.
But I know something they don't know.
The ending.
How I get there doesn't matter,
as long as everybody plays their part.