Hello all. I am still in the process of rewriting my multi-chapter fic, so I figured I would write a little one shot while I am keeping you guys waiting. This happens to be a Supernatural fic, not a Hunger Games one. I recently caught up on the series, and I was inspired to write this short little piece. I hope you guys like it!
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story belong to me. They all belong to the wonderful people who created Supernatural.
Meg woke up in a field. She had no idea how she came to be here or even where here was. All she knew was she had to be dead. Sharp memories come to the forefront of her mind, cutting her like a knife. She remembers her very last breath, as Crowley plunged the knife into her chest. She remembers the searing pain as the angel blade's cut tore apart her twisted soul. She remembers taking one last look at those stupid Winchester brothers, pleading with them to save her. However, here she was, in a field, with billions of other souls moving around her, some distraught and confused, some just blank. She had always assumed that when she finally bit it, that it would lead to nothing, that her existence would finally just end. After millennia of living, that was the best end she could have hoped for. Apparently the universe had something else in mind for her.
The field she was in almost seemed familiar. Not as if she had been there before, but as if it had been described to her to the very last detail: the yellow grass and leafless trees, even the blank stares of the souls moving past her. She tried to remember when in her long existence she had heard this description. She racked her memories, pulling out one after the other, until she finally stopped on one. She remembered the priestess of Hades. She remembered her explaining the levels of the Underworld, Hades' realm. She remembered, of course, Elysium, much like Heaven, where heroes go to live in paradise, and she remembered the Fields of Punishment, much like Hell, where the evil went to live in torment. There was something in the middle though. Somewhere that people went that weren't quite good, but weren't quite bad: Asphodel. It was where people went to forget. They lived with their memories for a little while, yes, but eventually everything would fade, and the soul would wander for the rest of eternity, wiped clean.
She guessed that this is where demons went to die. They were tortured, twisted souls, that were bad, yes, but they were also good once, human. They couldn't go to Purgatory, as that was meant for monsters, and that was what they weren't. She supposed that demons couldn't go to Hell when they died as that would just be more of the same; no, Asphodel was the only place that made sense. Asphodel, a place as forgotten as the souls that it contained, the perfect place for her. See, the minute that Crowley plunged that blade into her chest, she was forgotten, discarded as a casualty of the cause. Sam and Dean never truly cared for her, she was never truly with them, she was simply a tool to them, a tool that had become useless the moment it could no longer function. But, then there was Castiel.
The minute she laid eyes on Castiel, Meg knew she wouldn't be able to hate him. At first it was just sexual attraction. He did have a rather attractive vessel, after all. That was all she was thinking of when she kissed him, but then he kissed her back. She remembered the way he threw her against the wall, and trapped her with his kiss. She remembered how he left her breathless, pinned against the wall, wishing for more. Then in an instant he was gone, retreating back into his thickly built walls that he had only let down for an instant. But in that instant, she saw something in him, whether it was desire or passion, she saw him express emotion. In that instant, he captured her heart.
It wasn't until after Castiel had opened Purgatory, released the Leviathans, and lost his memory that she saw him again. It pained her to realize he remembered nothing. He didn't even remember his own name. It was through completely selfish motives that she convinced Dean to jumpstart his memory. It was true that they needed him to take out the demons, but all she really wanted was for him to remember her. She didn't want him to look upon her true face with horror any longer. So she was relieved when he finally remembered, but crushed when she saw the hatred he had for himself and what he had done, so much so, that he didn't even give her a second thought. Then Castiel transferred Sam's disease to himself, hoping that it would right his wrongs. Sam and Dean asked Meg to watch over him, and she agreed without reluctance because she probably would have done it anyways.
Those months in the hospital were the worst in her long existence. She saw Castiel every hour of every day. She saw the looks of torment on his face, and she watched helplessly as he lied in a coma, unreachable to her in every way. She could feel the frustration and helplessness building up inside her, and just when she thought she would lose it, he woke up. To say she was relieved would be an understatement, until she realized he wasn't exactly healed. He acted like a child, obsessed with games and flowers, and of all things bees. She took care of him like she had the past few months. Every once in a while he would caress her face, and tell her how pretty she was, and thank her profusely for taking care of him. Every time he touched her, she felt in every fiber of her being how wrong it was, that an angel couldn't love a demon, and that a demon couldn't love an angel, and yet, though she knew how wrong it was, she didn't want it to stop.
A couple weeks had passed before she decided to call Sam and Dean. She didn't know how they would take their warrior angel being reduced to a child. When they arrived, they certainly took it better than her; of course, she was in love with him. They removed him from the hospital and they all went their separate ways. That is until Castiel zapped to her hideout and brought her to Sam and Dean. She reluctantly agreed to help them kill Dick Roman, which was probably the worst mistake of her life. The plan was going perfectly until Crowley's little cowards got a hold of her, and took her back to the pit.
She withstood 10 years in Hell time of torture, until they took her back to Earth. Crowley wanted to find the precious Angel Tablet, and there was no way she was going to let him get it. She was in her worst condition when Sam, Dean, and Cas found her. She could tell Cas was back to what he had been, a warrior, and she had never been happier. He took care of her, just as she had taken care of him, and she saw a glimmer of hope for them, that she could for once feel almost human.
It all went wrong when she went to help them find the Angel Tablet. She waited outside with Sam and everything was going perfectly until the King of Hell showed up. She knew there was no way her and Sam could win, so she did what she could. She sent Sam to make sure Cas got out because he was the only one she knew she could save. Then, it was all over. Crowley plunged that blade into her chest and now here she was, trapped in Asphodel.
She didn't know how long she had been wandering. Her memories were still as sharp and painful as ever. She figured it would take a while for an old soul like her could be completely washed clean, if that was even possible. She just kept walking and wandering, dwelling on her most pleasant memories, most of them with Cas. She looked around at the never changing dull scenery, and simply walked, as all the other forgotten souls did. All the sudden a voice, clear as day, stopped her in her tracks. The voice, unmistakable, rang out with the pain resonating throughout the entire field. Uttering a single sentence, Meg, I need you. And this one sentence changed Meg's entire life, because for once, she was actually needed, and she was not forgotten.
Thank you for reading! Please leave a review and let me know what you think! :)
XO, MockingJay0221