The light summer night breeze tousled the tall grass that they reclined in, the crisp coolness washing over their bodies. Meg stared up at the infinite amount of stars twinkling in the purplish-black night sky above her, her forearm underneath her head as a pillow. The ground was too stiff, the grass too itchy, the outdoorsy odor too overwhelming. But the stars above distracted her from such uncomfortable misgivings, and for the past ten minutes, she forgot that she was now human.
"It's beautiful," she said aloud, unthinking and uncaring. It was almost a fact instead of a compliment.
"The universe is enchanting," Castiel responded. "Such beauty is almost incomprehensible even to angels, but—"
"Shut up," Meg snapped. In the past, she was able to tolerate his poetic explanations. But ever since she woke up human, any and everything annoyed her. The need to eat and drink, to sleep, to relieve and clean herself—these human needs she hadn't felt in over a millennium were irritable. Listening to Castiel's rambling was cumbersome enough, and not something she wanted to worry herself with when she had human needs to look after.
"You're…angry."
Meg rolled her eyes. "Not at you," she clarified. It was the truth, but she made no effort to sound convincing.
"But, you are angry."
She sat up. "Yeah. I'm fucking pissed. Humans are weak, and now I am one—again. Now that's Hell. A real brand of torture."
Castiel tenderly took her small hand in his. Meg's first instinct was to flinch away, but he was gentle and calm, his hands warm and inviting. Meg did not relax, but allowed for the angel to hold her. Instead she eyed him suspiciously. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight, but Meg could only scowl at him.
"I think you were given a chance—"
"Fuck off."
Castiel pressed his lips together, hesitating before continuing. "I think you were given a chance to start over. Not quite redemption, for your redemption depends on your actions in this new life. But you were given the opportunity."
"Is God still around?"
The angel furrowed his brow in confusion. "I think so, yes. He remains elusive, and he hasn't been in Heaven for years, and there are always substitutes—myself included—but he is still among us, even if he doesn't want to be found. Why do you ask?"
Meg fake-smiled, snatching her hand back into her lap. "Nice to know that the dick gave me a chance without my consent."
"You're upset because you weren't given a choice? I thought you would prefer to be alive, even if it is as a human. Humans are incredibly flawed, but they are also magnificent. Absolute masterpieces, really."
The former demon sighed. "Yeah, I know. You love humanity so much that you rebelled from Heaven because of it. But let's get real, Clarence. I was ready to die and cease to exist. I figured my time was up. I sacrificed myself for you and your stupid pets, but instead I came back weaker. Humans are disgusting. They have to play by all these rules, and that's not including the law. They grow old and weaker. And for what? To die? Aren't you all about that free will? If I were actually given the choice, I would stay dead. Really dead, no damn afterlife."
The silence thickened between them, with only the rustling grass providing any noise.
"I was human for a while," Castiel chirped. "It wasn't too bad. Of course there was a lot that I didn't know about being a human, and I was in dire circumstances, but it was not too horrible of an experience."
Meg scoffed. "You say that now, when you've got unlimited access to your angel juice. Cut the bullshit, Clarence. If you had the choice, would you choose to be human again? Permanently?"
She waited for his response. The longer he spent mulling over an answer, the more Meg knew her point was valid.
But Castiel surprised her.
"Maybe," he softly answered.
Meg raised an eyebrow. "Maybe? Bullshit. That just means no without admitting it—"
"No, I do mean 'maybe,'" Castiel interrupted, his rough voice louder and clearer than just seconds before. "If I had a good enough reason to, then I would."
"You would give up all the celestial perks of being an angel for urination, hygiene, fragility, and growing old? No more quick transportation? No smiting demons?"
"Yes. But only if I had a reason to."
Meg laughed sarcastically at him. "Well, at least it was your choice."
63 hours later.
She left the Winchesters' bunker when the Winchesters were off on a hunt and Castiel was…somewhere undiscernible. She stole one of the Winchesters' duffel bags and stuffed it with several clothes and hygienic products that Castiel provided with her earlier in the week, along with some fruit and a bottle of water. She had no money; her attempts to pilfer from the bunker were fruitless, save for the fake credit card she found in Dean's bedroom. Leaving the bunker, she headed towards the highway, hoping that someone would be willing to give her a ride to a bus station. It reminded her of her first encounter with Sam Winchester, so many years ago. The good old days, when Azazel was still alive and the apocalypse was just over the horizon.
Meg walked for forty-five minutes. Only three cars passed her in that time, all going in the opposite direction. She grumbled to herself as she kept walking.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Fuck," Meg muttered under her breath before turning around. She knew it was only a matter of when he would track her down, but she had hoped it would've been later. "I'm heading out. I think I've overstayed my welcome with the Winchesters and I'm sick of staring at bunker walls all damn day."
"I am taking care of you—"
"You want to help me? Fine. Take me to the nearest bus station, give me some money, then leave."
Castiel took a step towards her. "Why are you so adverse to my help? You said you are not angry with me, but your actions say otherwise."
"I'm not upset with you," Meg reiterated. "But I figured if I'm human now I might as well not be a prisoner." She turned on her heel and continued walking.
Castiel only followed her. "So you will be a drifter?"
"What else?"
"You could always be a hunter. Join Sam and Dean. You are an excellent fighter."
Meg fought the urge not to stop in her tracks and laugh in Castiel's face. "Firstly, no fucking way am I going to be a hunter. That way of life is more than demeaning. Secondly, Sam and Dean don't really like me, no matter how much shit I had to put up with so they could."
"You underestimate them," Castiel replied. "They won't like to admit it, but they do care about you."
"I'm not going to be a hunter regardless."
She felt a broad hand on her shoulder, preventing her from moving any further.
"Are you sure about this, then? Do you really want this?"
Meg shrugged. "I couldn't have a choice about being human, but I get a say in how I run this new life of mine, don't I?"
She expected some kind of response from Castiel. Instead, the empty highway was replaced with a moderately busy bus station. Meg spun around, searching for Castiel until a tap on her back startled her. "Here," he said, handing her an envelope and a second, less tattered duffel bag. "These will help." Meg opened the envelope to see a stack of cash.
"Did you rob a bank?"
"A simple 'thank you' would suffice."
A grin crept on her lips. "Thanks."
"If you ever need help, please call for me."
"How do I do that?"
"Just pray."
I'm a demon, we don't pray. Castiel disappeared before Meg corrected herself.
Was a demon.
Three weeks later.
In Tucson, Arizona, Meg sat on the dusty bed of her motel room, sipping a cheap bottle of beer she purchased at the nearby convenience store. She flipped through the limited television selection, settling for a nature documentary about bees.
I don't fight anymore. I watch the bees.
Meg smiled. "If only Castiel was here for this."
The fluttering of wings indicated everything.
"You finally called for me."
"No, I was making a comment. Shit, are you planning on dropping by every time I say your name?"
The angel sheepishly averted her gaze. "I haven't heard from you since you left. I was worried, but I figured you want your space."
"You figured correctly."
They glowered at each other. Meg hoped he would take the hint.
He didn't.
"How have you been doing?"
Meg crossed her arms. "You can track me, can't you? You should know what I've been up to."
"You're right. I have been watching you from distances. Hitchhiking through four states in three weeks. I wish you would at least call for me once in a while. You must be rather lonely."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Thanks for the concern, but I'm a solitary creature," she snidely remarked. The angel stood motionlessly at the side of the bed.
"I suppose I will go now," Castiel finally said. Meg nodded and watched the shape of his human vessel vanish as if he never arrived.
One week later.
In a Las Vegas hotel room, a man pressed Meg back on her bed. She didn't know his name, and she didn't care, really. He kissed her furiously, and she let him. Damn, it felt...wrong.
When he started trailing his kisses down her neck, the heated desire for sex dissipated within seconds. It didn't feel right. Meg remained stationary, unresponsive.
"Is everything okay?" he asked after noticing she stopped. He rolled off of her.
"I thought I wanted this," Meg stated. "But I'm not really feeling it tonight. Sorry."
The nameless man stared at her. "Are you sure?"
Meg was certain it shocked her more than it shocked him. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but yeah, I'm pretty sure."
"Well…okay then," he said disappointingly. "How long are you staying?"
She hadn't thought about it. But she already knew her answer.
"Leaving tomorrow."
"So no chance of seeing you again, huh?"
She shook her head. "Probably not."
"Well, bye," he said, heading towards the door. "Oh, my name's Eric."
"Samantha," Meg lied.
Eric awkwardly smiled and waved farewell before departing her room. Meg pressed her back against the headboard, clutching her legs to her chest. An unsettling sensation settled within her. She hadn't underwent it in since Crowley kept her as a prisoner for over a year, and now it was amplified because of her being a human. God dammit, but...
The fluttering of wings reached her ears. Castiel stood at the foot of the bed.
"I didn't call for you. I didn't even say your fucking name."
"I know. But I could sense you were…distressed."
Meg rolled her eyes. "Go to Hell."
"I've already been. Not an enjoyable place."
She scoffed. "Yeah, you're telling me."
Neither spoke. Meg refused to look at the angel in the eye, but Castiel's eyes burnt into her skin.
"Why are you here, Meg?"
"I don't know any more than you."
"Not about that," Castiel clarified. "Why are you here in Las Vegas?"
She shrugged. "Felt like partying, and Vegas is a party city, isn't it?"
"Are you leaving?"
"Tomorrow."
"Where to?"
"Anywhere."
"I wish you would call for me more often."
Her chest tightened at the sound of those words. His presence was comforting, oddly enough. When she was a demon, Meg could feel his grace radiating off of his vessel—an overpowering, headache-inducing sensation that she eventually became used to. Now, it was as if he were just another human. Meg didn't reply.
"Why are you so adverse to my help? Don't you remember the psychiatric ward?"
"Consider the debt repaid."
"No," Castiel curtly answered. "It isn't about a debt. I'm worried about you. We used to be…friends. Friends under strange circumstances, most definitely, but friends nonetheless. We used to talk to each other, back in the ward. You read me short stories and played games with me. You put up with me when the Winchesters wouldn't. You sacrificed yourself for me. And I know…"
As his words trailed off, Meg's ears perked. "You know what?"
Castiel hesitated. "I know what you told Sam."
The thing humans called a heart plummeted deep into Meg's stomach.
"It took me a few moments to understand, but I do," Castiel continued. "And I'm very confused now because your behavior doesn't match up with what you said to Sam."
Meg heaved a sigh. "Please leave me alone, Clarence."
Castiel lingered for several seconds before he disappeared.
Two weeks later.
Sitting on a bench in the San Francisco Botanical Garden, Meg stared at the collection of flowers. The light breeze ruffled her hair and made her shiver on occasion, but it didn't bother her too much. It was rather refreshing. The gardens reminded her of the all the time she spent with Castiel in the psychiatric ward's garden. That garden was minuscule and poorly kept, especially in comparison to the botanical gardens with its thousands of healthy, colorful flowers—but the ward's garden was pleasant nonetheless.
Castiel. She hadn't thought about him since Las Vegas.
And somehow, she was itching to see him.
"Yes?"
"Sit with me."
He did.
"Magnolias. They're beautiful."
"That's what they are?"
Castiel nodded.
They sat in silence, staring at the flowers and occasional passersby. Time was so slow as a human, but Meg the lack of speed cleared her mind—or at least, she liked to think it did. In reality, her mind raced with anxiety.
The sun began setting when Meg stood up. Castiel stood with her.
"Is this it then?" he asked.
"Yeah," Meg answered, unsure if she was telling the truth or lying through her teeth.
"Goodbye, then," Castiel said.
A strange emptiness within Meg's chest formed within seconds of his departure.
Eight days later.
Sitting in a nearly empty coffee shop, Meg shuffled a deck of cards. She called for Castiel.
"You're still in San Francisco," he immediately said when taking a seat across from her. "Is this the longest you've stayed in a place?"
Meg nodded. "It's not so bad." She continued shuffling the cards before setting them aside. "Let's play a card game."
One month later.
Calling for Castiel became a weekly thing. Each week, a different location. They would usually sit somewhere public, where they could observe people and talk about trivial matters. At first, he never spoke about the Winchesters or whatever new troubles they were facing, and he never asked her about how she was. They would simply talk about the people they saw or things they experienced.
But eventually, Meg asked about the Winchesters. Castiel would talk about their hunts and how he occasionally joined the brothers. Meg, strangely enough, wanted to hear about those two meatheads.
"They ask about you," Castiel confessed one afternoon.
"Liar," Meg retorted. "They don't care about me. They never have."
"No, Meg, they do. I keep telling you that they do care for you, even if they themselves won't admit it. Sam is always wondering if you are doing well."
Meg smirked. "I always preferred Sam."
Ten months later.
Yosemite to Niagara Falls. Miami to Seattle. Country roads to city streets. If Meg wanted a change of scenery, she only needed to ask Castiel to take her there.
It was as if they were back in the psychiatric ward, although the angel was no longer mute or spastic. They talked about Heaven and Hell, any and everything in between. When they were together, Meg was at ease. She smiled too much—it made her cheeks hurt.
"It's been nearly a year since you left the bunker," Castiel mentioned one morning as they sat in a diner. Meg chomped away on blueberry pancakes smothered in syrup while Castiel merely sipped a cup of black coffee.
"Only a year? Fuck, time is even slower than I thought."
"And this is the longest you've stayed in a location."
"Really?"
"Nearly three weeks in Carpenter, Virginia. Do you want to visit somewhere else now?"
Meg shook her head. "Not yet. I kind of like it here."
She caught his gaze. The corners of his mouth were barely turned upwards. Meg attempted to hide the smile forming on her own mouth.
"I'm afraid I need to go now. I can hear Sam and Dean calling me."
When the waitress came to take Meg's empty plate away, she raised an eyebrow. "Where did your boyfriend go?"
Alarmed, Meg snapped, "We're not dating." It was the truth.
Six weeks later.
After a month and half in the small mountainside town of Carpenter, Meg applied for a job as a waitress at the diner.
It wasn't an ideal job, and definitely not one she intended to keep. But the fellow staff were friendly and most of the customers were incredibly kind. Her busy work schedule meant less calling on Castiel.
On an off day, she called for him. She hadn't seen him in weeks, she needed to tell him about her new job and how she actually enjoyed it.
He never showed.
Twelve days later.
Every day she returned from work, Meg called for him.
"C'mon, Clarence. I just wanna talk."
No response.
Five days later.
Meg gave up. She refused to accept that anything bad would happen to him. He was busy helping the Winchesters on some new huge problem, and Castiel couldn't distract himself with a former demon. Priorities.
While watching television in the motel room she lived in since she first came to Carpenter, the interrupting knock at the door tore her from the mindless trash television. Annoyed, Meg lifted herself off the bed to the door. "Yeah, yeah, what's up?" she muttered before opening.
But when she pulled open the door, there stood Castiel.
"Clarence? You're—"
"Human."
The unexpected words slapped Meg across her face. "What?"
"I'm human, Meg. I tore out my grace, and I am human. You were so busy the last few weeks, and it drove me insane. But Sam and Dean," he gestured to the Chevy Impala in the parking lot, with Sam and Dean sitting in the interior, falsely occupied with reading a local newspaper, "they made me realize that I want to be with you. I love you, Meg, and I want to experience your human life with you, as a human myself—"
Meg brushed pass him, striding over to the Impala. She tapped her knuckles against the window of the driver's door. Dean unrolled the window.
"Yes?"
"There's a diner about five minutes to the right. Go have some pie."
She didn't bother waiting for a response. She only returned back to the threshold of her motel room, where Castiel remained standing.
And, for the first time since that night they stormed Crowley's prison—so long ago, and yet, as if it was just around time's corner—she kissed him.
Three hours later.
Amongst the motel bed's sheets, Meg placed her head on Castiel's shoulder and draped her arm across his chest. He twisted a lock of her hair around his finger.
"Finally ordered that pizza," Meg commented, the words far more smug than she intended them to be.
"May I ask you something?"
"Didn't you already?"
Meg wasn't sure if he hadn't picked up on her wit or if he was just ignoring it. "When did you realize you love me?"
The former demon removed herself from his body. "That's a loaded question," Meg said, shifting further down so she was lying on the bed.
"I have loved you since…" Castiel began, pausing to collect his thoughts. "I've loved you since the hospital. I thought about you frequently when I was in Purgatory, especially when Dean was out and I was alone. I was elated to find you in that bathroom. But I didn't realize how much I love you until I learnt about your death. I first cursed Crowley for killing you, then Sam for not protecting you, then I cursed Sam and Dean for not appreciating you more. But I cursed myself for not properly taking care of you when I should have. I was under a strong influence and my false desire to help Heaven trumped my true desire to help you—and the Winchesters, but this soliloquy is about you, so I'll try not to talk about them."
Meg snorted. "You really don't have to do that."
"When did you realize you love me?" Castiel repeated.
Meg stared at the popcorn ceiling above her. It really was a loaded question, but the answer came to her rather quickly. She had known the answer for a while. "Since I was Crowley's captive, but I didn't want to admit it. Crowley liked throwing your name around like a taunt. I only admitted it to myself when Sam was telling me about that chick he was with when you and Dean were in Purgatory. I understood all that gooey shit he was talking about."
"Love is so peculiar. It happens so slowly, and yet rapidly."
Meg agreed, but kept her thoughts to herself.
"May I ask another question?"
"You don't have to ask for my permission."
"Why were you avoiding me before? Why did keep pushing me away when I only wanted to help?"
Meg sighed. "I was angry."
It took several elongated seconds before Castiel responded. "You were angry about being a human."
"I still am, though not as much. I got used to being human, but I'm still pissed I didn't get a choice. You had a choice. You chose to be human."
"You once asked me if I had a reason, would I choose to be human. My reason is you."
Meg smirked, recalling on that night underneath he stars. "I remember that conversation. Fuck, I was really peeved. But now, I'm still kind of surprised—"
"That I chose to be human?"
"You didn't have to, really. We could've done it—angel and human. It's happened before, hasn't it?"
The former angel stared down at the woman beside him. "It has. But I would have seen you grow old and die, and I would remain alive, non-aging. I could always resurrect you, but it would be for my selfish reasons. But being a human myself, I would grow old with you. We would experience this human life together, the life absent of supernatural creatures, celestial beings and demonic spirits. The life hunters don't experience. I'm ready to die as well, but not until I am old and feeble."
"And what about your other lovers?"
The former angel scrunched his faced in confusion. "I don't have any other—"
Meg rolled her eyes. "Sam and Dean. What about them?"
Castiel pretended not to be embarrassed, but Meg could see the heat rising to his cheeks. "They encouraged me. You really do underestimate them. They told me I had an opportunity, and I need to take it. They are my adopted family, and they will always be a part of my new human life, but I want this."
The two gazed at each other, eyes locked and unwavering.
"Do you want this?"
She brought his head to hers, kissing him softly on the lips. "If I'm going to be a human for the rest of my time on this Earth, then it might as well be with you."
FYI, this is not over. I have a continuation chapter in the works.
