His wings broken. His pride trampled. His purpose taken away. An empty vessel ripped clean to the very substance of nothing. No juice. No mojo. No angel. His whole existence a failure in every sense. Fallen like Lucifer. Crushed and alone in the dark. No. Wrong. Not alone. Lucifer was there. Taunting, tormenting, and torturing him. But someone else was there, too, helping him fight the nasty visions. Meg. Feeling him up and down, soothing the itching of his skin, she finally succeeded in shooing the phantom of his brother away. And she did more than that. She washed him. She rubbed him down. She put lotion on him. The one creature he had thrown into the fire and walked over, the only one who had dared to kiss him, now took care of him like no one ever had before. So beautiful in her thorny pain. Once or twice he felt his crippled wings twitching to break free, yearning for the same treatment as his body. God! No. He wouldn´t allow his feathers to be ruffled by a demon. Never that. It would be blasphemy. "Abomination," he murmured huskily, trying to hold on to a shred of dignity, and failed miserably. "So ungrateful, Clarence," she replied, wrapping her arms around him, breathing despicable naughties onto his lips, and then she sang to him. Naturally a tale of loss and murder and death. Still he was feeling better from listening to the gruesome lullaby, and kept hanging on to the last bit of sanity he had left. He started to take a liking to her - a sensation utterly unthinkable - and recharged with new energy he set out to recover. Oh Lord, have mercy on me.
Sometimes he slurred a few words. Sometimes it was an insult. Sometimes it was her name. She enjoyed those moments. She enjoyed taking care of him. Fuck the Winchesters. Fuck Crowley. Fuck even Lucifer. She would have done anything to save the one angel who whispered her name like an endearment, the only angel who had kissed her jammed up against a wall. I learned that from the pizza man. She chuckled. Maybe she would never know what he had meant by that, but she was still amused by the saying. Since the day he had thrown her into the fire he was a spark of light in her overly dull existence. The angel of the lord, pretty boy Castiel. Clarence. His strength turned her on, his weakness made her soft. She knew that Dean feared she could betray him and hurt the angel in some way. As if she ever would. She didn´t want to hurt him but to wrap herself around him until she was soaked in the liquid of his come. She washed and rubbed him down even though his vessel didn´t need any of this. So what? There was nothing else to do. On and on she crawled under the blanket with him, an experience that turned out to be surprisingly satisfying. Once or twice she felt the flesh of his shoulders ripple under her touch. That was when she sang to him. "Abomination," she heard him defying her caress. "So ungrateful, Clarence," she whispered in return, not in the slightest offended. No. She kissed his lips and snuggled even closer to the creature that succeeded in making her feel different - almost clean even - not like a demon at all. Oh crap! What the hell...
******************************************
Like this weeks flew by, before one endless night, the comfy and illusive alliance came to an end. Outside a thunderstorm was raging; flashes illuminated the room and his body, lying lifeless on the bed. She was reading a magazine to kill the time, when he bolted up, gazing at her like someone who had just risen from the dead. She goggled at him as well, astonished by his sudden awakening. The angel and the demon, archenemies in the universe, competing in a staring contest.
Then his gaze shifted to her feet resting in his crotch. "What are you doing?"
"Such a prude." She leered. "You weren´t like that in Crowley´s chambers."
"I do not know what you are talking about."
She removed her feet from the comfortable spot and leaned forward to grab his wrist. Not to feel a pulse, of course, he had none. "How are you, Clarence? Better?"
"That´s not my name." He kept glaring at her but didn´t tear his hand from her grip.
"Still a bit crashed and burnt, huh?"
"Why do you care?"
"Tch, tch, tch, sweetie, I´m a nurse, of course I care." Slightly she thumbed his wrist and felt once more how his flesh rippled under her touch. Aw. So sensitive.
"You are no nurse. You are...are..."
"Meg." She leaned closer. "The demon you´ve kissed."
He frowned. "I can´t remember such an occasion."
"Oh really? Maybe I need to jog your memory?" She pinched his cheek like he was a naughty schoolboy.
He startled. "Ouch."
She laughed. "Don´t be such a baby, Clarence."
Now he tore his hand from her grip. "I am no baby in a..." His voice died away.
"Let´s hope so. Do you know where we are?"
"The mental institution." He threw the blanket off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "I just don´t know what you are doing here?"
"Dean put me in charge of watching over you."
"That can´t be. He hates you. He doesn´t trust you."
"Things change, sweetie."
"Do they?" He struggled to get up. His limbs weren´t working properly. "I need to talk to Dean."
"Easy there, angel boy." She seized him by the arms, pushing him back. Fuck Dean. "For a meeting you have to be more presentable." She pulled at his shirt. "Wash-up first."
He didn´t fight her off. "Is this custom?" The memories of her kindness were still fresh in his mind.
"Sure. I´ll get you fresh clothes afterwards. The stupid trenchcoat if you like."
He grunted, slightly excited by the prospect, not sure if it was for getting the usual treatment or the familiar clothes.
"That´s my boy." She reached for his pants. Just one last session before the Winchesters are taking over again. I deserve this. Fuck yes.
He pushed her gently away. "No. Not there."
She raised a mocking eyebrow. "Oh, sweetie, been there, done that. So why worry?"
"It´s different now. I´m awake."
"Oh, come on, just one little-bitty."
"No." He jumped off the bed. In minutes he had regained the strength to stand on his own feet.
"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "You don´t know what you´re missing."
"Actually I do." He blinked. "Let´s take a walk in the garden. I want to watch the bees."
"Okay. Whatever. Just let me get your coat, nutjob." She didn´t tell him that at night in a thunderstorm it would be a miracle to see any bees. What did she know? He was God´s creation after all. Besides he seemed to have forgotten all about Dean and that was a good thing whatever was waiting ahead in the garden.
***********************************************
Meg switched the cell off. "That´s that." Dean´s anger about calling them so late amused her vividly. If he only knew what I did in the last weeks he would be more than raging. He would tear me to shreds. And know what? It would be worth it. The last hours had been very different and pretty exhausting. Outside in the garden the angel had behaved like a new-born, running around, squealing, and picking harmless flowers to die in their sleep. She was barely able to follow him around. When the sun was rising he praised God for its creation and did what he came out for in the first place. Watching the bees all day long.
Finally back in the house he wanted to play kids´ games like twister and sorry. He was pleased like a little boy getting his Christmas presents every time he won. And he did win every game like he had played them for decades. Beyond that he was one useless pansy. Still she considered him the most exciting creature. The former news about him being dead hadn´t brought her any pain but a nagging disappointment. Like she had lost her most favorite toy. And now she had found it again. I´m nuts, too. She chuckled and walked back to the room finding him at the window, properly dressed in his beloved trenchcoat, staring into the darkness outside. "Are they coming?"
"Sure, Dean can´t wait to see you," she replied sarcastically. His devotion to the older Winchester was infuriating. Why was she doing this? What was she hoping to get out of this? Why did she feel like a sappy girl in his presence? Crap! He didn´t even seem to have any power at the moment. He looked close to his old self, less like Emmanuel, but still far from the angel who had thrown her into the fire. So what was wrong with her?
"Good." His voice wavered. His eyes were shiny blue marbles.
"What´s the matter?"
"Nothing."
Such a bad liar he was. "Talk to me." She even said the name she had never used to address him directly. "Castiel?"
He jerked his head around. "I don´t wanna fight. Not anymore."
She walked over, getting close, though she wasn´t touching him. Yet. "Pity. You are one brave and fierce warrior. You are worth fighting against."
"How can you feel like that? We are...nothing but...enemies."
She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Just the one time I even enjoyed losing."
"I d-don´t understand."
"Really?" She rubbed her cheek against his. "Still virgin boy, huh?"
"No." He struggled against her tenderness. "Innocence is lost. No forgiveness or mercy I deserve only damnation."
"I don´t like poetry." She sipped on his lips. "So put up or shut up." She sipped on his tongue.
For seconds he gave in, kissing back desperately, sweeping that pureness into her like a gift. But then he broke away. "N-no. I need to concentrate. I need to prepare myself. I need to practice." She couldn´t know the silliest task was yet to come. "Pull my finger."
"Kinky. I like." Okay. Angel boy lost it.
***************************************************************
When the boys finally arrived Meg was almost glad to see them. The angel had burned out dozens of lightbulbs and she had been busy replacing them. It was a miracle none of the other nurses noticed the lunatic performance Castiel staged. But now she could barely hold her laughter when Castiel started playing the same silly game with Dean. It was loads of fun to watch the brothers being pretty irritated by Cas´s behavior for a change, but Dean´s annoyance about Castiel calling her my caretaker and thorny beauty was definitely the highlight. Dean certainly paid her back by leaving her out of the loop. But the angel didn´t like Dean and her fighting and zapped away. That serves you right, Meg thought, full of glee that Castiel didn´t like the way Dean treated her. "He´s down in the day room now. I guarantee it." Dean rushed off looking for Castiel. As Sam wasn´t talking to her either she got her coat pretty certain that Castiel would come to her if she was calling him. Sadly she missed the chance and was chasing with Sam after an Asian boy who had stolen the tablet with the word of God instead.
The coming of the angels caught her by surprise. "Demon." Their female leader didn´t waste any time and smashed her into a wall. She stumbled back to her feet, slipping her hand under her jacket. She was not that stupid to underestimate them. They would kill her.
"A demon whore and a Winchester...again," the leader snarled, looking with disgust at her and Sam.
Surprisingly, Meg was miffed by the angel´s assumption. "That´s not how it... We´re not..."
"Kill the demon and her lover," snapped the leader, deaf to her defense.
Instantly, Meg drew the angel sword and blocked the attack of the male angel, cutting into the palm of his hand.
The female turned furious. "Where did you get that?"
The next second Castiel had zapped back into the room, smiling like a lunatic, turning the angels frozen with astonishment, because he was alive.
"You," the leader said coldly.
"Hello Hester," Castiel greeted her, giving Meg a side glance, checking out what they had done to her, too quick to make anyone notice but her. Then he started talking in riddles. Hester and the angels were speechless. Finally Castiel pointed his finger at Hester. "Here, pull my finger. Uh...uh...Meg w-will get another light and I´ll b-blow it out again." That he was mentioning her name, bringing the angel´s attention back to her, didn´t amuse her at all. How could he do that? How crazy was he really?
"You´re insane," Hester stated pitilessly.
"Hey! Heads up, sunshine." Dean turned around the corner and saved them all by forcing the angels away with an angel banning sigil. All angels of course.
****************************************************************
After hours of driving their little group stopped at a gas station the next morning. The three annoying humans were getting on Meg´s nerves. Dean. A usual pain in the ass. Sam. Mr. Awkward. The prophet boy. A freaking mess. Castiel wasn´t back yet and maybe he wouldn´t come back. Fuck no. He would to protect his beloved Dean no matter how broken he was. She didn´t allow herself to admit that she longed for the angel's company herself. She was reading a magazine, waiting for the boys to drive on, when she noticed the two demons checking them out. Crowley´s bloodhounds. Fuck! They smirked at her. She strolled over to talk to them. Probably she had to take care of the two dumb-asses herself.
They were back on the road again when Castiel called her on the cell. She felt a bit flustered. The long weeks in the nuthouse had formed a strange bond between them. She was happy to hear his voice even though he was talking mostly utter nonsense. Dean´s annoyance of her talking to Cas instead of him was the cherry on the top. The next second Castiel zapped himself into the car, sitting between her and Kevin, the prophet. Her joy at seeing him changed rapidly because he leaned over and addressed her with the weirdest sentiment. "Meg, are you hurt?"
"Shut up," she snapped at him and turned away, yet not quickly enough to miss the obvious hurt showing in his face. Fuck! What the hell! What is he up to? He couldn´t really care about her well-being, could he? Did he forget she was a demon? Did he forget they were born enemies? So the angel cunt smashed her into a wall. No problem at all. Did he have to be so damn pathetic asking about that? She was not his girl-friend, was she? Why did she have to put up with such an angel? Why did she have to put up with all of them? Shortly she was foaming in darkest silence. Fortunately his attention had turned to Dean whom he had just told that he didn´t want to fight anymore. Maybe that´s why, she considered. He was tired. He had changed after what he had done. He suffered because he had killed so many that he even cared about her, an abomination. Yeah. That´s what he´s calling her. That´s why the burning in her core had nothing to do with him caring for her. Fuck no.
**************************************************************
In Rufus´s cabin they settled down to plan for what was coming next. Dean and Kevin went down to the cellar. Castiel was talking to Sam. Meg drank from a glass and listened shortly to the soothing sound of his voice. Her angel. So understanding and perceptive to Sam´s troubles. So nice to everyone. Even her. Damn him. She had no time for this sentimental crap. She sensed that the demons she had persuaded to wait for her signal were close. Too close. She had to go. Throwing one last glance at his handsome face, she hastily gulped the drink down, and sneaked out to kill her own kind.
Afterwards, when the fight was over, and the two demons were dead, she briefly considered her options. She could run. Leave and never come back. Yeah? Where to? She was all alone. She needed allies. She needed friends. She needed to stay close to the only angel who´d go to bat for her. That she liked his presence, even was feeling different in his aura, had nothing to do with her decision. Fuck no. She went back to the cabin because it was the most logical decision.
**************************************************************
Hester gone. The angels gone. The prophet gone. Castiel was feeling numbed by all the events but mostly because the demon that had killed one of his sisters to save him was gone too. She was nowhere to be found. He noticed that Dean was glad that she had vanished. He himself was not. He felt lost without her. He wasn´t used to being without her. He wasn´t used to being alone. Not anymore.
The second he had given his blood to Sam and Dean he zapped away. For a while he was floating aimlessly through space and time. He didn´t find peace, though, his past crimes were tormenting him. What he had done. How many he had killed. Such madness. His whole existence was dubious. Where should he find comfort? Not with Sam and Dean. No. They wanted him strong and reliable. He was neither of those things. He didn´t want to fight. He didn´t want to kill. Not now. Not ever again. An illusion, of course, he was born a warrior. God´s devoted soldier. The one who rebelled. The one who fancied himself to be a God. No. He couldn´t confront anyone right now. He needed a place to rest. He needed someone to give him comfort. He needed a friend. Someone who knew what he was going through.
Meg whispered the tiny voice buried in a hidden part of him. She knows what you need. She knows who you are. She doesn´t behave unnaturally around you. She takes you as you are. She won´t send you away. The persistant voice didn´t stop afflicting him and finally he gave in and started looking for her.
After searching for some time, considering his skills a pretty long time, he finally found her hiding in the darkest hole, laying low. She was not alone, though, she was with a demon. See. You barely know her. She is no good. The male demon was a hunky meatsuit. A sensation spiked through Castiel, so strong and fearful, he had to shut his eyes for seconds, afraid his grace could be seen.
Meg smirked. "Did you come here to smite me because I killed that angel cunt?" I had to. You wouldn´t have killed one more of your kind even if that meant you had been a goner.
"I don´t know." His wings flickered briefly but excruciatingly. "Who´s he?"
"Nobody." Casually Meg ordered the hunk to get lost. He dissolved immediately into black smoke.
Castiel felt stranger than ever. "Are you with him?"
She laughed. "´Course not. Why should I be with a demon when I have an angel?"
He moved like magic and held her tightly, pressing his hand to her forehead, just like the first time they had met, when he was ready to smite her. "I´m not yours."
"Maybe not, but here you are, cloud-hopper," she mocked, trying to catch her breath, eyes flashing with excitement. His speed beyond any reality was such a turn-on.
"Scared?"
"Of some impotent angel?" Nothing gave her more pleasure than teasing him.
"You are right," he murmured. "I can´t kill you. I can´t kill anyone. I already killed too many."
"Oh baby." Seeing his devastated expression made her stop being cruel. "Don´t say that."
He trembled like he was sucked empty of all the energy he had left. "I came here because...I...I prefer not to be alone...."
"My boy. My pretty angel." She kissed him tenderly like she never had before.
His grace flashed in cruel doubt. "Meg...this is not what...why...."
"Shut up." She kissed him again, harder now, showing her longing, catching his lower lip between her teeth, nibbling, sucking, eating him up.
He stopped complaining and gripped her tighter. Not to smite her. Not to throw her down and walk over her. God! No. This time he put her on fire in a very different way, making himself burn with passion, and liking it more than he wanted to.
So did she.
**************************************
Afterwards he fell into a depression which lasted for days. Mostly he was brooding in silence, strolling around, sighing, and then brooding some more. She tried to get him out of it, teasing him, making advances, sometimes he replied by kissing her desperately, sometimes he was doing her on the stony ground, almost crushing her bones. She laughed it off. On and on he was non-responsive to anything, as if his vessel was completely empty inside. Once or twice he disappeared without a warning, and was gone for hours, but he always came back to her. Once he stank of honey, as if he had bathed in the stuff. She even noticed two or three bees flying around his head. He told her that he had visited Dean. No. Dean hadn´t been glad to see him.
She even taught him the rules of truth or dare which was fun, oh yeah, considering he could take dare any time but never did. The truths an angel could tell could frighten any demon easily.
Eventually his behavior became so irrational that she just couldn´t take it anymore. One day she grabbed him and smashed him into a wall. "Okay, I´ve had it. Let´s pay a visit to your beloved ex. Maybe he can deal with you. I can´t anymore."
He only blinked once in surprise. "I don´t think, Dean..."
"MOVE IT NOW!"
He zapped them into Dean´s car in front of Rufus´s cabin.
"Wait here," Meg ordered, exasperated, and hurried inside.
"Okay." He turned on the radio and listened to a holy song about Earth. He was considering the cruel things humans did to animals when Dean appeared at the window of the car. "Hey there."
**********************************************************
"Where is Cas?"
"Just zapped out of here," Dean scowled.
"For what? He didn´t tell me."
"Why should I know? Maybe to spread his wings."
"What´s up, Dea-no? Don´t you fancy a bit of Cas-less fun?" Dean´s anger about her calling him Cas was too good to not max it out a bit more.
"What are you talking about, evil bitch?"
"Your chance to kill me." She smirked and bent over him. "Or would you prefer to fuck your angel out of me?"
"WHAT?!"
The second she leaned into him, cheekily stroking his hair, the angel was back, standing right next to them like a gloomy phantom.
Dean jumped. "Ugh..."
Castiel´s irritated look was priceless. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Dean growled, and then blushed, actually blushed like a guilty traitor.
"Just chatting about you, Cas." The name rolled over her tongue like a caramel was melting in her mouth, a sound utterly disgusting, even to her own ears.
"I´m feeling sick." Dean rushed out of the room.
Meg giggled but stopped when she noticed the angel´s grimace. Boy, oh boy! Dumbstruck by his earthly demeanor she matched with him in silence. First the demon. Now Dean. Maybe Sam would be next in line tasting the angel´s claim on her.
Castiel, though, didn´t make a scene, just strolled out of the room.
Meg rolled her eyes skywards. What the fuck?
**********************************************************
The house was silent. The humans had laid down to rest for a few hours. She found him sitting on the stairs to the cellar, showing a suffering expression. "What´s up, Clarence? Trouble sleeping?"
The shadow of a smirk curled his lips due to the silly joke. "No."
"What then? Trouble because of me?" She sat down next to him. She didn´t know what to think. His attitude towards Crowley concerning her safety had been the most confusing event. He had acted like he was her guardian angel. He had acted like a boyfriend. Yeah, sure. But don´t forget: He was Dean´s boyfriend first. She snorted.
"What?"
"...this..."
"I see." He put an arm around her shoulders. "Did Crowley scare you?"
"Not that, stupid," she snapped, deliberately provocative, because she didn´t know how to handle a situation like this, a creature like him.
"Tell me." Her insult didn´t bother him much. He´d gotten used to her talking like that.
"Shut up and kiss me."
"Why should I..." he started refusing, while gazing at her naughtily gleaming lips. Why shouldn´t he? Tomorrow they were going to fight the Leviathans. He could die. Maybe he wouldn´t ever be able to kiss her again. So what was there to lose if he gave in to small joys? "...not," he finished, tasting those lips, abandoning himself to the vice of lusting for a demon of all creatures.
Thirsty for his pureness, she sucked on every inch of his mouth, avidly enjoying what wouldn´t last. "Oh fucking hell...I want you...want you to fuck me...come on angel boy..." she was chanting, like she was reciting an intimate prayer of desire, only made up for him, "...damn it...let´s move out of here...what do you say Clarence...?"
Nor did his nickname bother him anymore. He began to take a liking to that peculiar tease. "We can´t leave. Not even for a second."
"Then you have to be quiet."
"Me? You´re the one squealing when..."
"Shut up." She shoved her tongue down his throat.
The attack came so suddenly and she kissed him so fervently that his wings broke free with a whipping crack.
"Hey. Is this me making that much noise?" she complained, amused. Just then she noticed the heavy shadows hovering above them. "Oh."
"Sorry," he whimpered, and tried to push them back in. But it was too late.
"Kinky," she considered, even more aroused, and took the chance to grab a handful of the lustrous feathers.
"D-don´t." A rush of sensations flooded his body. Sweet Jesus. Painfully hard in no time, he jolted, burning up with desire.
"Ups. That was fast, Clarence," she said, noticing his blatantly obvious condition.
"Uh...yes...ah..."
She seized a bunch of pinion feathers, rubbing harshly across the grains.
Castiel collapsed on the stairs, gasping. "...don´t...ah...no...not like this...lower...please..."
"Oh. Oh. This makes my meat suit all dewy." She made herself at home on his lap, feeling his hard-on stretching into her crotch. Instantly she was plunging deeper into the fluffiness of his wings, and finding the down feathers, yanking them, she started riding him at the same time.
"Meg...oh my god...Meg..."
"Shh...no blasphemy," she whispered, an excited grin on her lips, and kissed him silent.
He gave muffled squeals into her mouth, joining her rhythm, and considering the noises both of them made in the next hour, accompanied by the creaking wooden stairs; it was a miracle none of their human allies woke up.
*********************************************
Well. Someone was awake getting a beer from the fridge. Sam Winchester. The troubling riot he heard coming from the cellar drove him faster back to his room than an angel was able to zap away.
***********************************************
"This is much more fun doing than just watching the humans," Castiel mused afterwards, amazed by the whole act itself.
"No human has wings like that," she granted, feeling strangely mellow, whether due to his intoxicating scent steaming off her skin, or his unique taste lingering on her tongue, she couldn´t say.
No human would dare lick them like you, chewing them almost to bits. "Good for you." He smirked. And this angel can never confess how much he liked the brutal caress.
She freed herself from his embrace. "Hey. Don´t get any ideas. Your´re not God's gift to demons."
"Of course not." He blinked in confusion. "Why should I think that?" For God´s sake! What now?
"Exactly. I´m the bitch here." She climbed up the stairs. "See you later, Clarence."
"Don´t go. I don´t want to be alone." Christ.
"Okay." She turned back, a devilish grin on her lips. "On one condition. We´ll play one of your silly games and this time I will win."
"Do you ask me to lose on purpose?"
"´Course not." She shakes her head. "But I´ll ruffle your feathers a bit more if you do."
He rushed up the stairs. "I´ll get the chessboard."
********************************************************
The morning was cold but sunny. Dean nodded casually at her when she got into the car. Sam was looking half-crazed with worry. Castiel didn´t say a word only his eyes darkened. She´s an abomination. Never forget that. She doesn´t really care for you. Dean told you what´s on her mind. And Dean was right. She didn´t look back when she started the car and drove away.
Stop feeling sappy about that fucker. He doesn´t give a fuck about you. Craving an angel like this is not like you. She forced her core to remain as dark and empty as the road ahead of her, ready to confront any demon who dared to get in her way. Even Crowley. She wouldn´t allow herself to admit that her overwhelming confidence had something to do with one crazy angel. No. Never. Yet she kept the tail feather she had stolen from him in the secret pocket of her jacket.
She was gone. Castiel licked over his demon-bruised lips. "Who will take care of me now?"
Dean stared at him. "What?"
"Nothing." The angel turned back to the house. "Let´s do what has to be done."
"Awesome," Dean mumbled, demoralized. His favorite saying had never sounded more unfitting.
***********************************************************
"Tell me, whore? Where´s you guardian angel now?" Crowley greeted her with glee as if she was joining a party instead of being stretched out on a torture rack.
"Exhausted from doing me." The first cut was ripping her open from neck to belly. She didn´t scream, no, she tried drifting away, remembering the good times, remembering the joy when the angel had fucked her, the abomination, like he really meant it, like he cared for her. Sweet horny wetness. A familiar sound hit her ears declaring the presence of an angel. It´s not him. It can´t be him. He wouldn´t come for me. The knife cut her again and something broke inside of her at that fluttering sound, repeating itself again and again, and now she screamed.
"There you go. Finally we´re getting somewhere," Crowley cheered, heartless. "Now give paw!"
Yet no matter how much she screamed in the time to come she never mentioned his name. Not once. Nobody had to know about her darling angel. Particularly not the bastard king of hell. Neither would he find the feather hidden in her most intimate space. Oh Lucifer. I caught the human sickness.
*****************************************************************************
The sound was barely a murmur rippling through him like a wave of consuming despair. Meg. Crowley had captured her. But regardless of whether he cared for the demon or not he couldn´t get out of purgatory to help her. Nor could he protect Dean. He got his power back but was useless anyway. This was God´s punishment for his sins. Yes. He deserved to be punished. He killed thousands of his brothers and sisters but spared a demon. I´m bad. I´m evil. I deserve eternal damnation. Hiding in an area of entangled trees overgrown by thorny bushes, he briefly wallowed in memories, his wings still prickling from the passionate heat she had burned into them like a stigma. So beautiful.
The next second black matter started shooting out of the ground like blooming flowers. Leviathans.
Oh Lord
have mercy
I carry my mark
on her
helpless and alone
don´t let her
unloved even
suffer
unworthy of your grace
I beg you
forgive her
save her
in my place
Now and forever
Amen
He rushed into the darkness while death continued to materialize out of nowhere to wipe him out.