Some of you may know this as Chapter 5 of my other Megstiel fic (One Hour), but I've decided to create a separate story for this chapter.

This is very, very different from my usual stories. It is more emotionally driven it's a bit angst-y as well. It revolves around Meg and Castiel, and what could have been if Meg was more present in Castiel's life as a more neutral person, rather than as her being defined as a good or bad person.

As I mentioned before, the story starts around "The Man Who Knew Too Much" (S06E22) and extends to the events of "Hello Cruel World" (S07E02).

And of course, happy reading. Feedback is appreciated.

"Your warm whispers,
Letting me drown in a pool of you.
Your warm whispers,
Keeping the noise from breaking through.
And I'm weeping warm honey and milk,
That you stay surrounding me, surrounding me.
Yeah, I'm weeping warm honey and milk,
That you stay surrounding me."

~Missy Higgins - Warm Whispers.

The lunar eclipse. A mere day away and Castiel felt a building of nausea in his stomach. His shoulders felt heavy with exhaustion and his mind was hazy with conflict and emotion. Too much heart was his weakness after all, and no one could help him with those blurred lines now.

But in recent events, Castiel found himself avoiding the Winchesters as best he could. He knew that he had royally screwed up, as Dean often said. After they had successfully killed Eve, Castiel had flown to Dean and told him that this fight was solely for Dean's own safety, not to mention the world. For someone who had always tried to please his own father, Dean explicitly made it clear that as long as his Angel worked with the King of Hell, there would be no such friendship welcomed in his life. As wounded as that left Castiel, he knew that above anything else, he was still a soldier of God. And if God could not guide him, he would have to assume his own method of solving everything was the only method. Dean, Sam, Bobby; no one else had provided him with any other means of stopping this, nor had any of them openly said they would help him. It seemed that now in Heaven and on Earth, Castiel was alone in this conflict.

Castiel waited for time to pass. He ached to open the gates in order to put an end to this ordeal. Now that all the time had passed, he felt anxious that the final day was hours away. And Castiel could not find a friend to confide his woes in. Dean was gone, Sam was back and forth, and Crowley? Well, Crowley wasn't a friend. Castiel needed to confess to someone who would listen.

"Meg."

The demon slightly jumped at the familiar voice. "Castiel?"

"Hello Meg."

Meg gave him a weird look. "Hi there Clarence, fancy seeing you at my favorite deserted human bar at 5AM." Castiel clenched his fist. Meg stared. She was poised in a tense position: her hand to her side, most likely where she kept a knife. Her throat worked with both emotion and energy. Castiel took a step forward to where she sat at the bar on a rusty stool. "As great as it is to see you, why the unexpected visit?"

Castiel closed his eyes. "Was she a sinner?"

"She?"

"Your vessel."

Meg smiled slowly. "Oh no. Just a little girl with a big heart, big dreams. Her only sin was thinking she was doing the right thing." Meg's eyes went from white and brown to pure black. "She's not the only one."

"She is not," Castiel admitted.

"You still haven't explained why you're in my neck of the woods."

"My vessel," Castiel began. "Jimmy Novak, has done little to nothing wrong." He shifted in his trench coat. "But I have. His vessel is being punished because of my actions."

Meg gave him a curious look. Castiel found that she was still confused to why Castiel was in her favorite bar. "Listen Clarence, I ain't a priest, so no use in trying to confess to me." She tipped the bottle she was holding to her lips, hair swaying with movement. "Church's around the corner. Knock yourself out."

Meg waited for him to leave her be, but when the Angel didn't leave, she sighed. "Do you need directions or somethin'? Don't you angels have personal MapQuests for churches?"

Castiel squinted his eyes. "I… what's a MapQuest?"

Meg rolled her eyes. Castiel still hadn't moved, so Meg scooted off her stool. "Let's go to church, Clarence."

Castiel wobbled a bit when she tugged his sleeve, the beer bottle still in her hand. They left the small pub, and soon were outside. Taking a final swig, she tossed the bottle to the curb, closing her eyes as the bottle shattered against the pavement. "Ah, chaos. Gotta love it when we go bump in the night." She said it with a wink.

They crossed the street and turned the corner. He concentrated on her boots and how they clicked and how her breathing was something he rarely heard as she led the way. "There," she said, coming to a stop and pointing to the old, run down church. It looked fairly deserted too, but not like the bar. It was apparent that the town spent more time at their local pub than their holy church. She kept pointing to it, as if she expected Castiel to flock inside. "Confess."

Castiel sighed. "Demons are not allowed inside a church."

"What, you need me to hold your hand or somethin'? Just go inside and say what you want and we can go back to pretending that I don't exist and you can go back to your boys, fighting the big, bad demons of the world."

Castiel tilted his head. "I never pretend." Meg rolled her eyes, but Castiel gripped her wrist and forced her gaze on to his. She tried to mask the feeling of surprise towards his audacity, but Castiel spoke. "I never forgot about you, Meg."

There was a brief stillness before she laughed his remark off. "Sin to lie, Clarence." She didn't sound bitter, but there was certain resentment in her voice. "Go. Confess."

The Angel looked to the sky. The feeling of tears spiked his gut. He didn't release Meg's hand.

"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned." A pause. He cleared his throat before starting again. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I have let my intentions get the best of me, and consume me, even when they have put your children in harm's way. I have been associating with your enemies, smiting your divine creations, and disobeying your command and word. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I have been led astray by my own desire. My desire for freedom. My desire has led to the misery of your worlds and the rising of cruelty."

Castiel's face was shinning with tears in the light of the sunrise. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I have sinned and I ask for forgiveness, but I do not ask for your guidance. Forgive me Father, for I will sin again, because my pleas and my begging for your mercy fall upon deaf ears, and I cannot wait for your forgiveness, nor your kindness, any longer. Forgive me Father, for your children, your shinning Angel, have fallen. I have fallen to the trance of freedom, and forgive me Father, for my sin is to grant all those who suffer as I do, with this same trance."

He did not turn to Meg, who was still gripping his hand tightly. He was not aware of how long they stood in silence, nor was he ready to let go of her hand just yet. It seemed to be the only comfort granted to him right now. Oh, the irony pained him deeply. Asking for forgiveness, and receiving care from a demon.

When she finally spoke, she did so with a quiet voice. "Castiel, you should clear this up for me. First time I've seen you in months, so who could you have possibly be in cahoots with?"

He turned to her, feeling oddly at peace. "Do you… think of Crowley?"

A dark look came over her. "Of course I do. I live with a bounty on my head, or did you forget all of that?"

The pulse inside Castiel quickened. This was his chance to tell someone the truth; the truth about the nights he snuck out, about how he had pushed the Winchesters away. The perfect opportunity. "No, I did not." He let go of her hand because he knew he was no longer worthy of seeking comfort, even in her. "I should be honest with you."

Meg had reacted in the only way Castiel could have imagined: in anger. She said nothing as he laid out his plans to consume every soul in Purgatory with the aid of Crowley. He described how he had found the Purgatory creature and tortured her into giving him the blood. He told her of every hour and every minute he spent with Crowley, and how he'd come back to the Winchesters, acting as if nothing terrible was on his mind. He told her of Dean's dismissal, of how he wanted someone to hear him out before he went through with his plan, and how he decided she should hear his side of the story.

Meg held up a hand in midsentence. Castiel grimaced. "You need to hear everything though. This could save the world. It could save Heaven."

"Not my problem." She couldn't even meet his eyes. It was a sort of betrayal to her, and was even more damaging than anything she had put up with before. And he knew she was still a demon: a creature with little emotion to portray, but he could see the hurt in her eyes, and it was as human as any other reflection of pain.

"Crowley has the means. I have no interest in befriending him after this."

"That doesn't mean you and Crowley aren't butt buddies now."

"My behind is not capable of creating a friendship with another person's behind." He sat on the edge of the sidewalk as he buried his head into his hands.

"Oh shut up with the clueless charade you got going on Clarence. I can't believe you." Meg paced in front of the sitting Angel.

"At times, I can't believe it myself. But Crowley can aid in my effort." Castiel gave her an annoyed glance. "And yes, the Winchesters and I are not on good terms."

She rounded on him with the same passion he had seen so many times in battle. Only this time, she was angry with him, and most of all, hurt. "What is your effort? Because your daddy issues shouldn't have to mess with the rest of us."

"My effort never changes." He tried keeping his anger to a minimum. "My effort is to protect the Winchesters. My effort is to save all the Angels that are brainwashed in Heaven. My effort is to replace the mindless following with free will."

"Castiel," she said in a firm voice. "Forcing free will on someone is the biggest contradiction I've heard from you in a while." Castiel watched her sink next to him. "What happened with you and the hunter?"

Pain quickly stabbed its way into Castiel's heart. "I am ashamed of my own free will." He took a deep breath, and suddenly, words came pouring out. "I put them and the people they love in the frontlines of this war. Dean's family will never be the same. Sam, I've hurt Sam in ways even I cannot comprehend. I've killed the few brothers that truly invested their trust in me." He looked at her. "I know what I have to do, but I am a coward."

"You're an idiot."

Her statement took him off guard. "I…"

"You risked all these lives, you've hurt all these people, try doing that all the time." Meg jabbed a finger at her chest. "I've had to make decisions that hurt people all the time, but news flash Clarence: that's the point of humanity. They hurt. They bleed." She turned the finger on him. "You need to do whatever it takes to fix this. And if it's wrong, fix it again. And keep fixing it until you get it right."

"It's easier said than done."

"Suck it up because there ain't anything easy about this existence."

He turned to her. "But, you understand, correct? That this may be my only chance?"

She sighed, and it came out more sad than exasperated. "Yes."

"Then… will you come with me?"

He found himself on sand.

Miles and miles of sand greeted Castiel and Meg this time. They left the cool, morning air of a dingy, broken town, into the dry heat. Here, in this very spot, was they way to fix all of the problems. Everything would be okay after this.

Meg looked around with obvious distain tugging at her mouth. "If you were gonna take me on a romantic vacation Clarence, ask first. Hawaii's a lot nicer." She kicked the sand with a heeled boot. "You can get sand and pretty girls dancing and booze in Hawaii." She shed her leather jacket.

"I have no intention of dancing in the ocean." Castiel dropped to his knees, his hands sifting through dirt and sand. He ignored the blistering hot sun on his back. He ignored the fact that in mere hours, he'd make a fool out of the King of Hell. He ignored the guilt of Balthazar's death, the hurt that came of Dean's rejection, and the misery of his decisions. He kept Meg's words in his head. Keep fixing it until you get it right. Just digging, digging, until after many feet of endless sand, he felt glass.

Kept cool despite the heat, Castiel held the one thing Crowley wanted from him: the blood of a creature from Purgatory.

Meg whistled. "You've struck gold."

"Better. It's the Purgatory blood." He grasped her wrist again. "Ready?"

"Fly with me, Clarence."

They disappeared, back into the bar. "The owner's gonna open up soon Clarence, you can't stay here."

Castiel nodded. "I will leave." He hurriedly placed it into her hands, her eyes going wide. "And you need to keep this safe, here, until I come back for it, okay?"

"What's going on?" For the first time, Castiel saw worry and panic set into his demon's eyes. "Where are you going, Castiel?"

Even when she was in distress, his name sounded like innocent prayer on her lips. "I'm going to meet Crowley. I'm going to give him what he wants, and I'm going to set things right." He looked at her with an intense gaze. "Please." He put his hands over hers, both of them clutching the jar of Purgatory blood. "Trust me."

Castiel felt her take in a sharp breath. "Yes."

And just like that, he was gone again.

"Raphael."

Crowley's smirk seemed to be growing wider by the second. The instructions for the ritual along with the jar of blood lay discarded on the table. Raphael's new vessel gave Castiel a deep, pitiful look; as if Castiel was a simpleton and amateur at the game he had been playing for so long. It was betrayal, but it was expected. Castiel knew that he couldn't have gone undetected for so long. However, he was sick at the thought that Raphael was the one to give Crowley protection. It could have been any other Angel. But it was Raphael and the thought of it both excited and depressed him.

"Consorting with demons. I thought that was beneath you."

Raphael's eyes glistened with humor. "Heard you were doing it; sounded like fun."

"You know, Castiel. You've said all sorts of shameful, appalling, scatological things about Raphael. I've found him, her, to be really quite reasonable." Castiel was too busy glancing at Raphael, trying to read his brother's eyes to pay attention to Crowley's gloating.

"You fool," the Angel stated. "Raphael will deceive and destroy you at the speed of thought." At that, he swore he saw Raphael's upper lip twitch.

"Right, right, cuz you're such a straight shooter." Crowley rolled his eyes. "She, he, has offered me protection against all comers."

"In exchange for what?"

"The Purgatory blood."

Raphael moved in closer to Castiel. "Castiel, you really think I would let you open that door, take in that much power? If anyone is going to be the new God, it's me."

Castiel looked at Crowley with s much hatred as he felt. "He's going to bring the Apocalypse. And worse."

Crowley gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Hey, this is your doing mate, I'm merely grabbing the best offer on the table. Now you have two options." He looked at Castiel with mocking eyes. "Flee, or die."

Castiel looked to the table. Flee, or die. With slow, cautious steps, he took the jar of blood in his hands. Cold, smooth. It was now or never. And he trusted his demon more than anything. With her breathy whisper of "Yes" in his head, he tossed the jar of blood to the demon and retreated.

With a deep breath, Castiel transported himself back into the pub where Meg was sitting on her stool, clearly anxious with the real jar of Purgatory blood in her hands. She stood immediately at his arrival. The lunar eclipse was minutes away, and most likely, Crowley and Raphael were beginning their ritual.

"Castiel-"

"Meg, there isn't much time. I need your help. We need to clear this area."

She left the jar on the counter of the bar and began to push tables aside. Castiel picked up chairs effortlessly and tossed them to the far ends of the bar. He was tempted to ask how she got the bar to be so empty for the night, but something told him that her methods were both unholy and impeccable if he found her sitting alone, waiting for him. The groggy town seemed to ignore all the mayhem that the duo was causing, but Castiel was secretly happy it was only the two of them, amidst the chaos. They had come so far, and now, it would end.

Castiel looked at her as she threw the last chair into the corner. Her torso was defined by the stretch of her t-shirt. She was so much smaller than him, much smaller than Dean and Sam, and yet, here she was, no longer terrified of is decision. When she turned to him, he met her gaze of confusion with a searing kiss, and on instant contact, he felt her melt into him. Bliss, pure pleasure, pure desire; she kissed him back with pulsing lust and with a forgiveness he knew he didn't deserve.

His hands caressed her back gently, tilting her mouth, opening her more so that their tongues could touch and tease, so he could remember how she'd taste. As he moved his hands lower, he felt a wooden handle. In one fluid motion, he pulled her knife from the back of her jeans and broke away from her.

Rolling up his sleeve, ignoring her seductive smile and the way she captured her bottom lip between her teeth in an alluring fashion, he cut deeply into his left arm, blood trickling down his skin and falling onto the hard wooden floor. He took out the ritual instructions and another piece of paper from his trench coat pocket, and shoved his arm to her. "Start drawing."

Together, with his arm in between them, they slicked their fingers in the Angel's blood and drew the necessary symbols to keep any other Angel from coming inside. They guarded the doors from Dean, Sam, Raphael, or any other demon or human that may thwart his plan. Together, they came to the final wall. With a nod, Meg opened the jar of Purgatory blood and they drew the symbols for opening the gates to Purgatory.

Castiel opened the sheet that had the incantations, but Meg took his hand. "And after this?"

Castiel gave her a hard look. "Meg, there is no sure ending to this. War has its casualties."

"I'll see you tonight."

"Meg-"

"I said it. I'll see you tonight. Do not leave a girl waiting, and do not leave me disappointed, Clarence."

He nodded. And he chanted.

"Ianua Magna Purgatorii
Clausa Est Ob Nos
Lumine Euius Ab Oculis
Nostris Retento

Sed Nunc Stamus Ad Limen Huius
Ianuae Magnae Et Demisse
Fideliter Perhonorifice
Paramus Aperire Eam

Creaturae Terrificae Quarum Ungulae
Et Dentes Nunquam Tetigerunt
Carnem Humanam Aperit Fauces
Eius Ad Mundum Nostrum Nunc
Ianua Magna
Aperta Tandem!"

Castiel knew that Meg was watching. That her eyes never left his back as a bright, white light flashed inside the room. He wanted to scream to her, tell her to shield her eyes from the horror in front of him. But he realized that only he could see this horror. The claws, the black eyes, the haze, the disgust; it was all his. With his arms spread out, he yelled as his body became engulfed in light and dark. Coming in by the hundreds, each of the tormented souls penetrated his body, bit and scratched at his insides. There was a burning fire inside of him, a pain so overpowering, he closed his eyes, and let all of God's creations, rejects, demons, and souls take him over.

The gates slammed closed. The Angel staggered back, right into the arms of Meg. They fell to the floor, Castiel's head in her lap. She was saying something, shaking him from his daze. All at once, he opened his eyes looking at her with a devilish smile. With a push, he brought himself to his feet. A new man, a new being, he stood over her with a new purpose.

"Clarence-"

"You will show me respect, and honor me with my true name."

She looked up at him with disturbance written across her face. "Excuse me?"

Castiel tilted his head, and reached for her cheek. With a gentle stroke, he pushed the stray hairs from her face. "So beautiful… such beauty… should not be wasted…" It was the first time he called her beautiful. He decided to grant her with a smile. "I will let you live, simply because you have decided on helping me."

"What the-" Meg stood on her feet, shaking. "What the hell are you?"

Castiel's smile never faded. "I am your new God, and remember that I have shown your kind mercy. Goodbye, Meg."

Before she could say anything else, he was gone.

"This is going to be so much fun."

Castiel looked down at Dean, who's on his elbows, glancing at Bobby who seemed to unconscious. Except, it's not Castiel. The Leviathan burned his very being, his soul erupting into flames. They drowned Castiel's cries for control, forcing him on his knees within Jimmy Novak's body. Castiel felt so incredibly small and insignificant as the Leviathan simply tossed his hunters aside.

Dean was saying something, taunting the terrible monsters that crawled inside of his vessel, but the Leviathans ignored all he said. "We'll be back for you," Jimmy's vessel grounded out. Black slime slide from his skull, his limbs as he felt the Leviathans trudge his broken vessel out of the room. The last image he saw out of their eyes was Dean's horror on his face.

Down the stoned and cobbled hallway, Castiel felt his vessel stagger until there was a door. With tired limbs, the Leviathan pushed their way through and into the sunlight.

God no. Please god no. Not into the human world. If God truly existed, this was His punishment for Castiel; watching his friends go through excruciating pain, to watch the humans he vowed to be so loyal to fall to the terror and evils of the Leviathans. A dirt road underneath his feet, the vessel moved forwards until a high security fence was in view, bound by a lock and heavy chains. With a swift hand, the Leviathans ripped the nuisance off and pushed the fence away, walking again towards the water reservoir. They touched the muddy edges, and began to sink into the water.

And then Castiel heard it. Clicking of boots. High heeled boots.

Inside the Leviathan, he was so powerless. But now, with shaking legs, he stood inside his vessel while the Leviathans inside of him screeched and clawed at his soul. With dirty, dead eyes, the vessel looked up.

"Goin' for a swim without me? Hawaii's still a better spot than a public water supply."

Castiel willed the vessel to turn towards he direction. His will became a wish come true. He saw her, in her infamous leather jacket and purplish black top. She gave him a small smile, a disturbed smile. There were other footsteps; the Winchesters and Bobby Singer were behind him, watching both in awe and in fear. For once, Dean had not said anything, which Castiel found to be saddening.

Meg walked towards him as water sloshed at the dress pants of his vessel. While the Winchesters and Bobby kept their distance, she steadily made her way to him, carefully stopping at a few feet away from him. She was courageous. She was scared. She was an idiot.

Castiel wanted to scream from the inside, warn her to stay away from him, that he was going to make all the right choices, and that he was so very sorry for dragging her into this as well. But none of that came out of the vessel's mouth. What did, made his soul gleam despite the darkness inside of him.

"Meg," he croaked.

She took another careful step towards him. "Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I was stupid enough to let your dumb Angel talk me into wreaking havoc on this planet." She rolled her eyes and took off her jacket and tossed it to the side. "Clarence, don't you give up on me now. You promised you'd see me last night, and I have to say, keeping a lady in waiting pisses me off so bad." She was closer now, her hand sticking out to him. "You should ask me for forgiveness."

Oh god, more than ever, he wish he could. He looked at her hand from within and mourned at her incoming destruction. Yet, she did not move from her spot, and the Leviathans did not attack her. Castiel felt a surge of power, an overwhelming feeling of affection and caring. He would not, could not, let these evils devour her. But, terrified, he stood, the vessel looking at her hand, and worried he would it take it, and snap it before dragging her under. He began walking into the water again, arms raised.

But a hand took his left sleeve and tugged it down. They were now waist deep into the water. She looked at him. Angry. Betrayed. "Pissed off", as she said. But there was something else. Her concern. Her trust in him, and his trust in her, forced him to speak even with the Leviathan pulling him back.

"Will you forgive me?"

Meg grasped his hand tightly as the Leviathan continued to move the vessel forwards, deeper into the water. "I…" The water was heavy against their bodies, and from the little window he had in his prison, Castiel watched her struggle for words as the water reached their chins. "I forgive you."

And her head disappeared into the water.

Seconds later, he felt water inside the vessel's lungs. Burning, itching, water stinging at his open wounds. He clung to her words as if they were his lifelines. I forgive you. Castiel felt his body explode into black whirlpools, the Leviathans swirling in and out of his vessel as they dove into the water supply. I forgive you.

Castiel's window closed, his vision dimmed, and all that he was left with was the oceanic floor and the ringing of her last words inside his head, until that too, faded into the dark.

Thoughts are appreciated. Stay tuned for the much shorter epilogue. Til then. xx