30. Road Trip

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30. Road Trip

"You know, the only reason you're up there, Metatron, is so we can have both eyes on you at all times," I say from Cas's backseat. I'm sprawled out, no seat belt, back resting against the inside of the car door. "It's not because you demanded it."

"Our flashback playback continues with a song that climbed all the way to number four on the charts," says the radio. "Here's Alanis Morissette's 'Ironic.'"

The radio is cut off, Cas shuts it off.

"Really?" asks Metatron. "That song is a classic. Yeah I hear you. I do. And you're right. Inclement weather on the day of your nuptials and the wrong cutlery at inopportune times is hardly ironic. But it sure is catchy. Yeah, fair point. Can't argue taste. But since I became human, it's just so...strange. All these feelings, you know? I mean, I can feel music. Like that last song, 'Sussudio.' I don't even know what it's about and I love it. I always enjoyed lyrics, words, stories. Gives me goose bumps. And Goosebumps—don't even get me started on those. Creepy! And yet...arousing."

I roll my eyes, pulling out my phone, and dial Sam's number.

"Jo?"

"Hey, little brother. Quick question: can I just kill him now?"

"You know I can hear you, right?" asks Metatron from upfront.

"Shh! I'm on the phone. Mind your own business."

"I would if you weren't so close to me."

"Fine, then tuck and roll out of the damn car for all I care. See how well you hold up against high speeds and concrete road."

"No, we need him alive for now," Sam says once he finds silence to fill. "Look, after he gives Cas his Grace back, you can do whatever you want with him."

"Well, I'd like to kill him slowly. Maybe save scraps for Cas to take his turn with."

"I am, like, two feet from you," Metatron complains.

I sigh. "Anything on the Mark of Cain?"

"Every word—crystal clear."

"No," Sam replies. "I mean, I've been digging for something, for anything, but...I don't know, Jo."

"There's an answer out there. We'll find a cure for Dean." I bite down on my thumbnail. "Speaking of Dean, how'd he take my story?"

"He bought it. I think he's caught up with himself to not suspect much."

"I don't know why you'd want to cure that little firecracker now," Metatron says, and I frown. "He's finally interest—" I see Cas's fist strike Metatron. "Ow!"

"Well, just keeping digging." I scratch my head.

"Yeah, uh, no one here by that name," Sam says suddenly. "Sorry."

"Wait! Sam?" I look at my phone. Dean must be around.

"Lose reception?" Metatron asks. "Or did he hang up on you?" He and I exchange a look, and he begins to laugh. "He hung up on you, didn't he?"

"Thank you, Cas," I say as the angel strikes Metatron again in the face. "Be thankful you're not back here with me, Metatron. I'd be way worse with you."

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