Author's Note: I wanted to give God!Cas a whirl with a Megstiel Twist

Proselytizing

He came to her, humming with power and danger that Meg felt the moment the door to her room opened with a thunderous slam. It should have sent her all a-quiver, should have made her excited, should have thrilled that demon core of her that craved such power. It should have made her leap at the angel and rake her nails down his back as she tried to take that power for herself. Hell, at the least it should have made her all dewy and hot before the disappointment set in.

But something had changed and instead of excitement, she felt that gnaw of self-preservation warning her to run and run fast.

"I've been looking for you." His head tilted, and unreadable eyes tracked over her curiously. "Were you trying to hide?"

She mimicked his tilt and bared her teeth in a cheeky grin. It covered her wariness perfectly as she saw that he was different than the last time they'd met. "Aren't you just a disco ball of power? What's up, buttercup?"

Castiel didn't crack a smile, didn't look disturbed by her attitude. He just stared at her but Meg leaned against the door-frame, willing herself to stay still and not smoke out. There was a stoniness to him now that had never been there before; he'd always acted cold towards anything that threatened him or his little puppies but this was deeper, stronger. He was almost vibrating with a power that was foreign to an angel or demon.

"I've already spoken to Crowley. In his mind, he rather inferred that to end your existence would put him further in my debt," he said. The way he spoke made her look at him incredulously but not about Crowley.

"What are you doing? You're speaking like a bad sci-fi movie robot and I know you've watched enough porn to learn the lingo if you're trying to get in my pants," she snipped and immediately she was thrust back against the wall by a shove of psychic power. A sudden pressure on her mouth was so incredible that it felt like her jaw had been bolted shut and Meg tightened her useless hands into fists.

"Be quiet." He stepped away from the hall and closed her door behind himself with just a thought. Meg's dark eyes followed him as he looked around the room. "No wards, no sigils. Nothing. Yet you were hidden from me for a little while. How?"

She couldn't answer him, not with her jaw being kept shut, but she felt him in her mind. Probing, feeling, looking for a hint of her secrets. Meg hadn't been Alastair's apprentice without learning a few tricks about resisting that sort of torture. But those invisible fingers were looking for cracks in her armour, forcing open any weak spot, but Meg wasn't stupid.

She hadn't lived this long by being weak.

Castiel walked around the room in a slow circle, like a deadly predator about to pounce on her. Normally that might have made her giddy with excitement but not now.

"I'm not going to kill you though, Meg." He stopped in front of her and when he was this close she could smell the Grace on his skin. Grace and death. "You've value. You have influence over the demons that don't follow Crowley. They're valuable to keep my enemies busy for now. A balance if you will. But only for now."

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, searching his face, but soon she looked away from him anyway with a roll of her eyes.

Castiel stepped towards her, power snapping in the air between them and causing her body to recoil in pain when it struck every nerve-ending in her meatsuit. His gaze never wavered from her face though she refused to look at him. Meg could feel those blue eyes as deeply as if he was touching her with his hands. But he was there, in her head, touching recesses she kept well hidden and she felt some walls crumbling at his persistence. To distract him, she started to think about how he had changed, knowing he would catch that thought.

He felt it easily and smiled.

"I am doing this for the good of the world. I am giving what they need," he informed her. He came closer, until his coat brushed her immobile hands and his breath touched her forehead. "By all reason, I should end you here."

His hand suddenly lifted and he touched her forehead. Meg's eyes went to his at the foreignness of that touch and she was snared instantly, aware that he was trying to go deeper into her mind. Castiel stared back and finally the pressure on her jaw lessened just enough that she could speak. She'd heard the rumours and now it was before her; she hadn't been a devoted follower of Lucifer and Azazel without picking up her own brand of myth and legend. Now it stood before her. She could see it when she looked beyond his vessel's eyes. There were hundreds of thousands staring back at her.

"You took the souls," she accused. "Fuck, you really are stupid."

"I am God, now, daughter of Azazel. Respect that," he warned though his fingers still traced her hairline.

"I have defied better Gods than you. Worshipped better Gods. Give me a reason why I should," Meg drawled. "What will you do? Smite me? So what, that proves nothing. I'm just another demon who won't let you rule them and I'd win."

The psychic touch suddenly left and then his hand was around her throat, lifting her off the ground. The contact of skin on skin seemed to distract him though and he shook his head. Meg's legs kicked out futilely and then she simply went lax in his hand. She managed a laugh.

"So forceful, Clarence," she choked out as his grip tightened.

"I am offering you an opportunity to stop running, Meg. Take it," he insisted and he dropped her to the ground at his feet. She coughed and rubbed at her throat. Every demon instinct in her screamed at her to smoke out but having felt that touch of power Castiel was radiating, she knew better. She'd be safer to try to think her way out of this.

"Why?"

Castiel knelt in front of her, and for a moment he lost that stony look. There was a gentle sympathy in his face that she distrusted instantly. "Because I know what it is like to be running with no place to go. You are more than Crowley realizes. I'm willing to let you become more than what you are."

She laughed. "Nice try. You'd use us against each other, like Lucifer used Sam and Dean against one another. Like your Daddy accidentally pitted Michael and Lucifer against one another."

His face tightened, as if furious that she'd seen through the ruse. "I am not about to ask you twice."

Meg stopped rubbing at her throat and moved to her knees so that they were face to face. "Well, get used to being disappointed when it comes to controlling me, Clarence."

They were too close, she knew, not just because she could feel the brush of his coat against his hands or the heat of his breath on her cheek. It was more than that. She could feel the threat he posed at her rebellion but she wasn't stupid enough to trust an angel who was trying out the Daddy pants for a while. So she simply tilted her head and bared her teeth in an odd parody of a smile. Castiel's blue eyes roamed over her face, darkening in anger and frustration.

But she saw it as a small victory that she affected him.

"Let me guess, precious. I'm the one demon still willing to piss you off and make you lose control?" Meg leaned in so close that her mouth brushed his, feeling a strange rush being this close to death. Castiel's eyes widened and then went half-closed, and she felt his power flex invisibly around her neck. "And you can't have me. In any way that you want or will admit to."

She was grabbed and thrown underneath him, his larger body straddling hers as he spoke a word and her hands were soon pinned once more. The change was so startling that it made her head spin and over her fear and anger she started to shout at him. Eyes glinting with light, Castiel leaned over her and when she paused for breath mid-curse, he forced his mouth onto hers.

The demanding touch of his lips on hers was like torturous fire and she almost screamed at the pain of it searing through her. Kissing him before had been playful and seductive; this was an invasion of her senses and there was no pleasure in it. Even when he forced her mouth to open and penetrated far more deeply with his tongue than he had before, Meg felt only instinctive fear that he'd kill her. She sank her teeth into his upper lip to try to get him to let her go but he simply smiled against her mouth. Castiel turned his head a little and drew her up into his kiss with force, his teeth biting her lips and piercing them open so that their blood mingled on their tongues.

His touch was persistent, wearing down on her and she felt his fingers gently pull on her hair, coaxing her like a wild animal being tamed. It was the most painful and incredible kiss she'd been forced to give and the power lacing through her from his blood was addictive. She moaned achingly, wanting so badly to get away but his fingers still stroked her to keep her still. It wasn't longer before the pain slowly gave way to desire and she started to part her lips willingly, her tongue brushing his. Tasting their blood on her tongue, it reminded her of devouring something dark like chocolate and yet light like vanilla.

Castiel's mouth broke from hers, lips bloodied from the skin he'd split, and he waited for her eyes to open before he licked the blood from his lips. Meg stared up at him, hands bunched in his coat. That head tilt was back, the curiosity still there, but a satisfaction that he'd managed to frighten her. She swallowed and licked the blood away from her own bruised lips, resisting the urge to whimper at the sharp pain his blood still pierced her with.

"You taste of fear and want. You do fear me as much as Crowley does and yet you desire me as much as you did before," Castiel informed her, not moving from his place over her body.

The fingers that captured fistfuls of her hair suddenly began to stroke her scalp but there was no comfort in it this time. It reminded her of someone stroking a bird before snapping its neck. Meg watched the way his eyes almost danced; not with happiness or anger, but just power. As if there was something lingering beneath that surface of Castiel. Something more deadly.

"I feared Lucifer too. But at least I loved him," she managed. He gave her a disappointed smile.

"A false god. You poor creature," he said softly, stroking her hair still. He smiled at her in an odd, fixated way. "I will be better for you."

Meg tried to look uncaring. "Chastity is supposed to be good for me but it's not as fun."

He didn't flinch, just stroked her and waited patiently while the tension in her body began to increase.

"I'll look on you as a challenge, Meg, and it is why I will spare you for now. If I can convert you, then the world may be ready for a God such as I." His palm drifted down her face and cupped her chin. "You will love me and serve me. As your God."

His kiss this time was softer, reverent even, and she wondered at the change, not daring to respond even when his tongue stroked hers. When his head lifted she welcomed the cold air she could now breathe instead of his heat. Meg knew she was in bigger trouble than she had realized when their eyes locked again. Castiel's hand slid down her neck, brushing her collarbone before pressing over her meatsuit's pounding heart. That odd, manic smile was there.

"I will be back. Perhaps you might want to consider your actions and do penance when I return."

He was gone in a blink of the eye, taking the pressure of oppressive power with him. Still licking at her bloody lips, Meg rolled onto her side and stared at the opposing wall thoughtfully. It wasn't in her to shake and cry like some impotent human. Instead, her mind stilled, calmed itself, and she began to think very carefully. Castiel as a God would be far more dangerous than any enemy she had had before and the one thing that could save her might be that odd interest he had looked at her with.

She just had to survive long enough.