Revelation

By: DemonClowSorceress

AU after "Goodbye Stranger." Castiel receives a very unexpected sort of compensation for his help on a case. First Megstiel attempt, and I rather like it! I own nothing.

"I can't thank you boys enough," Miranda St. Joan smiled, her spring-green eyes staring somewhere between Dean's head and Sam's shoulder as the brothers gathered up their weapons. The blind young woman had been hunted by a demon who'd been possessing and killing her psychic friends. As the daughter of a friend of Missouri's, she'd known to call the Winchesters when bodies started to drop.

"It wasn't as big a deal as you thought," Dean said modestly.

"Don't lie, you worked your asses off to banish those bastards." Her sightless gaze moved towards the general direction of the third, silent man before her. "Especially you, Cas. You protected me when that demon tried to kill me. Thank you."

Castiel had proved quite valuable during the case when the discovery of a pact between the demon and a psychic rival of Miranda's was unearthed, and when it had come searching for her, he had been the one guarding her. Although uncomfortable - after all, he only smote the creature when it attacked him - he didn't mind too much. Getting recognition for his efforts gave the angel a pleasant feeling of accomplishment.

Sam coughed and assured her, "Really, it's nothing we couldn't handle."

"There must be something I can do to repay you," Miranda said. A slow smile broke out over her face. "Perhaps a reading?"

Dean took a quick, unconscious step backwards. "Noooo thanks."

"No offense, but psychics don't really like what they see for us," said Sam apologetically.

Miranda shook her head. "Wasn't talking about you two. I meant your interesting friend." Her eyes stayed eerily fixated in Castiel's general direction. "How about it, Cas? Step into my parlor?"

"I do not think that is wise," the angel replied, recalling how his previous contact with a psychic had ended.

"Let me be the judge of that."

"You don't know anything about me."

She smiled mysteriously. "Then that makes two of us, now doesn't it?" Resting her hand on the wall, Miranda walked into her back room. "Coming?" she called as she disappeared behind the beaded curtains.

Castiel could think of a hundred reasons, a thousand reasons why not to follow her back there. It was dangerous to her. He probably wouldn't like whatever she said. They had to leave quickly before the authorities arrived. But one thought outweighed all those reasons combined. He wanted to know.

Damn his curiosity.

"You two go ahead," he said to Dean. "I will be but a few minutes."

The older Winchester looked ready to argue, but thought better of it. Licking his lips he said, "Fine. We'll find a place to crash for the night. Call when you're done here."

"All right."

There was only a small round table and two overstuffed armchairs in the back room. The table was covered with a thin green cloth decorated with silver and pearl designs. Miranda sat in the far armchair, hands folded on the table expectantly. "Join me," she said, offering the other chair.

Despite his reservations, Castiel stepped forward and sat in the comfy chair. Miranda's mysterious smile returned as she held out her hand. He stared at her hand, puzzled as to why she offered it. "What?"

"Take my hand."

"Do you require physical contact to perform a reading?"

"Nope. Just helps me figure out where to look." The smile grew lopsided with amusement as her fingers wiggled. "C'mon. I don't bite."

"This is a mistake, Miss St. Joan," Castiel warned her. "You shouldn't try to - "

"I'm not fool enough to try gazing upon an angel's true visage, Castiel."

He stiffened. Neither he or the Winchesters had ever spoken his true name aloud. "How did you - "

"I may be stone blind, but I'm a damn good psychic," she replied. "Word went around back when Pamela Barnes burned her eyeballs out trying to See you. She passed on the feel of your Grace so we'd know not to force a confrontation with your kind. When you smote the demon, I recognized your Grace as it obliterated the demon's darkness."

He reluctantly placed his hand over hers. Miranda's head tilted like a cat's, her half-closed eyes drifting to stare at a point on his chest. "Well, well, angel of Thursday, you've been through quite a lot in the last few years." Her lashes fluttered like hovering butterflies. "The moment you were sent to pull Dean from the Pit, everything started to change." Her other hand came to cover the top of his, encasing the dry flesh between her warm palms. "The Winchesters treat you as a person, not a being of higher power and authority. They accept you, challenge you, even took the time to teach you how to be a hunter. And for some time, you've been torn between duty towards Heaven and friendship with them."

He didn't say a word. Nothing she was saying was new.

"You've begun to question what you believed in, your very existence. You've begun to wonder, to seek answers that nobody wanted to know. This has made you gain quite a few rebel points among your superiors. You were killed by Raphael, by Lucifer, and by the Leviathans you summoned from Purgatory, but you keep coming back." Miranda's eyes closed slowly. "This confuses you. Why would God continue to bring you back when you've done what you've done?"

Castiel couldn't help stiffening as her words hit home. She was voicing all of his old worries. Truths he'd tried to deny were being pulled out of the dark corners he'd managed to hide them in for so long.

"And you fear," Miranda continued. "You fear that the Winchesters will abandon you if you break or fail again. You fear, should you ever meet your Father again, He will see and scorn your tarnished soul and blackened wings. The thought of standing before Him as one of the disgraced Fallen brings you great shame. You long to know that He still loves you." Her lips twitched, as if to smile. "But you long for something else as well. A woman? No." Her eyelids fluttered but remained closed. "A demon in woman's form."

Meg.

Not for the first time Castiel's mind recalled the small, prickly she-demon that tread the line between ally and enemy with the skill of a tightrope walker. It had been almost a month since he'd learned of her death at Crowley's hands, and the sharpness of her loss had yet to dull.

"She is a great part of your recent past," remarked Miranda. "She dwells in a corner of your mind, inhabits a place in your heart, and has left her mark on your very being. And there is a name, a name only she calls you..." Now a smile unfolded on her face, and a small chuckle escaped her mouth. "Clarence. She called you Clarence, and you never understood why."

The name should not have made his breathing grow uneven, but it did. It shouldn't have made his blood quicken or his frame shiver. It should not have sent a pang of regret and pain straight through his being, but it did.

"Interesting." The psychic opened her eyes and seemed to stare right into his. "You miss her."

"Ridiculous. She is an abomination," Castiel snapped, but the memories began to flood him...

"We survive this, I'm gonna order some pizza and we're gonna move some furniture around, you understand?"

"No, I - wait actually, yes I - "

"She is a black stain upon the earth."

"I'm kinda good, which sucks, and you're kinda bad...which is actually all manner of hot."

"I care nothing for her."

"Why are you so sweet on me, Clarence?"

"I don't know."

Miranda blinked once, a hard look in her unseeing eyes. "Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not!" His denial was swiftly followed by a palpable shifting in the air around them. The power wasn't something he was familiar with, and coming from an angel with as much experience as he had, that was cause for raising his guard. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Tell me the truth, Castiel, and I shall stop."

Unfortunately, this reply only made him tense up more. His skin began to faintly glow as his Grace awoke. His invisible wings fluttered and spread, shadows flung against the back wall in stark contrast. The smell of scorched feathers filled the little room as the temperature rose to volcanic levels.

"Oh do stop panicking," Miranda huffed far too calmly. "You're several millennia too young to even try standing up to me." She raised a hand and poke the center of his forehead. As if flicking a switch, his power was immediately suppressed and the room returned to normal. "Silly little fledgling. I'm not going to hurt you."

The familiar nickname made Castiel's blue eyes widen in complete astonishment. "You're an angel?"

Miranda drew her hand back and made a shushing motion. "It's not that big a deal."

"But why are you here masquerading as a psychic? Why did I not sense your power when we first arrived? Why couldn't you smite the demon yourself? Why choose to - "

"Ahem." She cleared her throat with a trace of irritation. Castiel wisely fell silent. "I am old," said Miranda. "Old enough to remember when brothers wished for nothing more than to serve their Father. "When Lucifer rebelled, I knew how the grand scheme would unfold. I knew brother would have to kill brother. But all the same, I wanted there to be a chance of stopping it. Of changing what had been written." Her smile was world-weary as her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "Unfortunately, that was not my destiny."

"Who are you?" Castiel could tell that she was an immensely powerful angel, undoubtedly Seraph-class, and far older than the mid-twenties vessel she inhabited. But nothing about her seemed familiar to him.

"Does it matter?" Miranda shrugged one shoulder. "But you, young Castiel, are not entirely yourself, are you?"

He cocked his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Something has been eating away at you. A sharpness gnawing away at your core that you can't accept. Or perhaps you don't wish to." One eyebrow lifted at him. "Humans are not the only beings who attempt to hide the truth from themselves, little brother."

Castiel tried not to think about Naomi or the angel tablet he'd hidden. He couldn't be certain of Miranda's allegiances, and he'd sacrificed too much to let the angel tablet fall into the wrong hands.

"Well, I hope you'll come to the right conclusions about it." She smiled and tapped the table with a finger. "It's not wise to deny your truths, Castiel. Better to face them so you don't make the same ones. But then again, you've always been a little rebel, going out just to find out how much you could learn."

The way she said it made Castiel think back to his younger years. Much of that time was hazy, but he could remember his first hesitant flights, the first times he attempted going into forbidden places in search of answers he didn't know. He remembered being scolded by his elder brothers for breaking the rules, but he also recalled one angel, a different angel, telling him that there was nothing wrong with being curious. Telling him that sometimes it was all right to defy orders if he felt they were wrong. Telling him to stay true to himself...

Truth...the angel of truth...

"And speaking of rebels, you've found yourself quite a tough little woman," Miranda remarked offhandedly. "She's probably just as old as you, and quite resilient. Took an angel blade to the gut and still managed to survive."

"What did you just say?" Castiel gaped. "Meg...was here?"

"Came stumbling through here almost two weeks ago, dropping your name like nobody's business."

Castiel looked at the number with astonishment. "She's alive?"

"She better be. I used quite a bit of mojo to keep her from the abyss." She pushed a folded piece of paper across the table. "I patched her up and she asked me to give this number to, as she put it, her blue-eyed unicorn." Miranda chuckled and added, "Of course, she was quite adamant that you heard that part alone." Miranda stood up and gave him a smile. "She moves around quite a bit, so I'd call soon. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll rest for a while. Good day, Castiel."

"Good day." He hesitated, unsure if he should speak the name and dare be wrong. Swallowing hard, he coughed and added, "And thank you...Amitiel."

The woman's smile stretched slightly wider, the warm smile of familiarity and family. "It was good to speak with you, Castiel. May you find the truth you seek."

The phone rang once, twice, three times. Four times. Five times. Six -

"Huh. That wingnut psychic lady was right. You did call first."

The voice was one he'd know even among the screams of the damned. "Meg?"

"Hey Clarence. What's up?"

He could have said a thousand different things. Demanded why she didn't contact him. Asked how she survived Crowley's blade. How she found Amitiel, of all angels. How she could make him think she was dead for so long.

But he did none of those things. Amitiel was right. He had to face his truths. And the truth was, Castiel was quite fond of this prickly, beautiful, sharp-tonged demon.

So he said, "I've missed you."

Meg sighed and made a noise of disgust. "What have I said about that damn sentimentality crap?"

"To put up or shut up." The familiar words caused that sharp pain in his chest to lessen. "Tell me where you are."

"Why should I?"

A smirk tugged at his lips. "I believe, since we both survived, that we have an appointment to rearrange some furniture. Unless you are still too injured to participate?"

A little teasing!Cas at the end, maybe a bit OOC but hey, Meg can't hog all the sexual innuendo.

According to my research, Amitiel is the angel of truth.

Review please!