Part II
Meg stumbled onto the shore, barely making it out of the waves before she slipped on the wet rocks and dropped to her hands and knees. She bowed forward, coughing up sea water. Yet she was miraculously in one piece. The dragon had taken the brunt of their impact with the water, and for a tense, terrifying moment, the current had swept her away into a dark eddy. But she'd surfaced and managed to swim to shore.
This day was just really not going her way, though.
Something prickled up her spine, and Meg slowly turned. Behind her and down in the shoal, lay Castiel, half in the water, half on the rocks, completely naked and apparently unconscious. Pale, brawny muscles gleamed in the moonlight.
Terror and fury bubbled up, and Meg grabbed a large rock, staggering to her feet. She hobbled her way over to the person that had nearly gotten her killed—who had kidnapped her in the first place—and raised the rock high above her head. She'd said she would kill the dragon to escape, and now was her chance. He'd be easier to kill in this form.
And yet, her arms trembled in the air. She gave herself a sharp shake. What was her problem? She was a demon; what did she care about killing one man? She'd killed one just the other day.
One who'd deserved it.
Castiel deserved it.
Or, well, the dragon did. Meg wasn't sure about the man inside the beast. Or was it the other way around?
And what did it matter, anyway? It was kill or be killed in this world and one had to take what they wanted in life. Survival of the fittest. Meg was a survivor.
But slowly, without conscious thought, she lowered the rock and let it clunk on the ground. Shaking her head at herself, she turned and limped to the edge of the shore and peered out into the blackness of night.
"Hello!" she shouted. "Is anyone out there? Help! I'm over here! Help!"
She sagged in defeat, realizing the futility of such actions. Her thoughts turned back to Castiel, because now she was once again faced with the fact that she was trapped on this island with a bloodthirsty predator.
Castiel was still out cold, though, and in fact, the water lapping around his waist was gradually tugging him further into the current. The sea level rose up around his shoulders, then his neck.
Meg heaved a sigh. Okay, perfect. The sea could take him. No muss, no fuss on her part, and she could tackle her problem of being stranded without worrying about the dragon attacking her.
A skittering sound came from behind her, and Meg whirled in a burst of fear as the furry creature came scrambling down the slope. But instead of launching itself at her with fangs bared, it scurried right past and darted back and forth over the rocks near Castiel, whimpers issuing from its throat.
Meg watched in stupefaction for a moment as the ferocious beast from earlier now whined pathetically and pawed at the man's dark hair. It shot her a pained look before sniffling more frantically as the water rose to Castiel's nose, almost completely submerging him now.
Meg spun on her heel and looked away. It wasn't her problem. But the whimpers tugged at her, and dammit, why the hell was her conscience rearing its ugly head now?
Growling to herself, she pivoted back around and stormed over, grabbing Castiel's lax arm and giving a rough yank. Ugh, he was heavy, boasting several inches over her. Her eyes briefly flitted downward, and she felt a brief flicker of appreciation, but quickly shook it off. Once his head and chest were out of the water and the danger of drowning, Meg let him drop unceremoniously on the rocks, and she tilted her head back to gaze all the way back up at the cave. She really should just quit now.
But Meg found herself picking up a piece of sail cloth from a pile of abandoned supplies, and laying it out on the beach. She then heaved Castiel onto it and wrapped him securely, hoping to make moving him easier.
Hefting the end of the sail up over her shoulder, Meg started the long trek up the island, hauling Castiel behind her. The furry sentry scampered along beside her, often bouncing back to check on her cargo and sometimes nipping at the fabric in an effort to help pull. Not that it did much good.
"Why couldn't you be a pack mule?" Meg muttered, then added over her shoulder, "And why couldn't you be a scrawny runt?"
She supposed she should be thankful he wasn't still in dragon form.
"Or, better yet, why can't I just say 'suck it' and be the demon I'm supposed to be!"
Meg huffed and lifted her head to see how far they'd come. Oh Lucifer, only a few yards. There was hundreds left to go. And she was waterlogged herself and shivering.
Meg didn't give up, though. One thing she had going for her was stubbornness, and now that she'd decided to help Castiel—against all reason—she was going to get him up that mountain if she had to toss him every hundred feet.
The journey was long and arduous, and Meg kept up a steady stream of grousing the entire time.
"You could wake up at any time, you know. Not that I want to play with Mr. Dragon, but I'm starting to wonder if your ass is really that pretty to be hauling all the way up this godforsaken mountain."
Castiel, of course, never woke or responded. Meg wondered if she was dragging a corpse around for nothing. Although Sparky there seemed pretty intent that his master was still alive.
They finally made it back to the cave, and Meg nearly collapsed from exhaustion. But she hadn't just saved Castiel from drowning to let him succumb to hypothermia or his wounds. Though she was tempted…
Now that she wasn't sneaking around trying to stay hidden, she noticed in the far corner of the cave was a dwelling of some sort, made of tattered sails and driftwood. Meg gathered her strength for one last haul, and eventually deposited Castiel under the makeshift tent, which was in disarray upon closer inspection. Meg took a few moments to straighten some beams and stretch the tent flap higher above their heads. Then she considered what to do next.
Under better light from the full moon outside the wide cave opening, Meg could see Castiel's torso was riddled with contusions and abrasions. Nothing seemingly life threatening, but definitely painful.
Surely she'd done enough already, though…
She swept her gaze around. There was an overturned bucket, and no signs of water. Meg heaved a weary sigh and turned to the creature. "I don't suppose you can show me where fresh water is?"
It folded one ear back, and then leaped to its feet, darting back to the cave opening they'd come through. Rolling her eyes at herself, she picked up the bucket and followed.
Sure enough, the animal led her to a freshwater stream where she filled the bucket. She also noticed some of that dark green algae Castiel had given her before for her own wounds, and so she gathered up a good bunch of that as well.
When she returned to the cave, she proceeded to clean Castiel's wounds and apply the healing salve. It wasn't out of a sense of compassion, though, not at all. She merely needed Castiel's help to get off the island. The dragon was just going to have to fly her back to the mainland. That was the only reason she needed to make sure he was cared for.
So Meg focused on her tender ministrations, and tried not to let herself think of those sad blue eyes…
—\_/—
Castiel woke, sore and confused. Daylight was streaming into the cave… Wait, how did he get here? The last thing he remembered was…falling, and the dragon bursting out to save him. To save Meg.
No, not to save her. As soon as Castiel had gripped her tight mid-air, his inner dragon had roared with the desire to complete its task, the one triggered by the Ritual Song.
Castiel swiftly sat up and looked around. All was quiet and still. Peaceful, almost.
But it wasn't peaceful. Not anymore. Not that it ever had been, really. For so long he'd lived in solitude, battling the dragon inside and making sure it never left the island. But then he heard the Ritual Song on the wind, and he hadn't been able to cage the dragon within the cave before the change overtook him, and now there was a woman trapped on the island with him, doomed to be the dragon's victim.
Not a woman. A demon. And yet, her nature did not bother Castiel. Though there was a darkness about her soul, he could see glimpses of beauty within. Upon his first laying eyes on her, he'd thought perhaps they were similar, in a way. Both with evil inside them.
Had she brought him back to the cave? Why? And where was she now? She had to be somewhere, as there was no way to leave the island.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the dark-haired woman walked up, a bucket of fresh water in her arms.
"Good, you're still alive," she said, her tone brusque on the surface but with an undercurrent of something else, perhaps relief. Her gaze flitted down for a brief moment, and Castiel realized his flesh was barely covered by a sheet of linen. Remembering her adversity to when she'd been exposed, he adjusted it modestly.
"Thank you for your care," he said with earnest sincerity. It was an unlooked for gesture from the woman whose life he'd overturned.
Meg shrugged one shoulder and set the bucket down. "One-time thing. Besides, I couldn't let you die. I need the dragon to fly me off this island."
Castiel's expression saddened. "I'm afraid that's not possible."
A flash of ire shone in Meg's eyes, and she angrily demanded, "Why not?"
Castiel reached for a pair of trousers in the back of the tent and deftly slipped them on under the sheeting, then rose to his feet. "Do you know how dragons are born?" he asked.
Meg crossed her arms and scowled. "What does that have to do with anything?"
He walked to the other side of the cave where a large rock with a smooth, flat top sat against the wall. Scorch marks spread out across its surface. "I remember my birth," he said, tone dropping low with sage remembrance as he reached out to touch the altar. "Dragons take women offered as sacrifices, bring them back to their lairs, and then infuse them with fire so that they burn from the inside out, and a baby is left in the ashes. It's excruciating and cruel."
Castiel turned to face her, though shame burned through him. "My dragon's instincts have been awakened, and it would do this to you. Every time I touch you, the dragon burns with primal power."
Meg didn't say anything, but there was a glimmer of horror in her eyes.
Castiel tore his gaze away from hers. "I promise the dragon won't hurt you," he vowed. If he could keep tight control of his actions, he could keep the dragon suppressed.
"But I cannot take you away from the island," he added remorsefully.
"Alright," she said stiffly. "Then there must be another way. These sails, they had to come from ships, right? Is there a harbor?"
Castiel nodded solemnly, and started toward the edge of the cave, silently entreating Meg to follow. She did. He led her down to the water's edge and gestured out at the shoals. Through the mist, great skeletons of ships lay in ragged heaps, masts splintered, hulls shattered. A graveyard of wayward wanderers.
Meg's expression was pinched as she surveyed the wreckages. None of them were seaworthy anymore.
"The sea is as treacherous as the dragon," Castiel said.
She let out a breath, and then drew her shoulders back. "There might be another way. A last resort, but I'm obviously at that point."
Castiel canted his head and watched curiously as Meg searched around the beach until she found a concave shell. She picked it up, and drew a knife from the back of her bodice. Castiel recognized it as from his belongings, and yet he cared less for the stealing and more marveled that she hadn't tried to kill him when he'd been weak and vulnerable.
She placed the blade to the inside of her forearm and made a swift slice. Castiel frowned as blood ran down her arm to dribble into the seashell. Once a good amount had pooled, Meg lowered her head and began to chant strange, harsh words. Her eyes turned black, and the blood bubbled. Meg continued to speak, and Castiel felt the power issuing from the spell.
Then she finished, and her pitch black eyes returned to softer brown. Meg tipped the shell and let the blood pour upon the rocky beach.
"You called another demon for help," Castiel surmised.
"My brother. We haven't seen each other in a while, not since our father was killed during a coup for Hell's throne. He'll come for me, though."
Castiel nodded, torn between hoping that was true, that this temptation would be taken from his island and his dragon could quiet, and between a pang in his heart, a stirring of something he'd long ago refused to let himself feel—yearning for human companionship.
But he knew he couldn't allow himself to get attached.
"Well, in the meantime, you may stay with me. I'll make sure the dragon won't come," he promised again.
He had to keep the monster locked down, for both their sakes.
—\_/—
Meg had no idea how long it would take Tom to come find her, so as annoying as it was, she figured she needed to make herself at home in the meantime. Unfortunately, that was also easier said than done under these circumstances.
She surveyed the shoddy shelter inside the cave. "Okay, this won't do."
"What's wrong with it?" Castiel asked.
"It's more fit for the dog than a man," she replied, scrunching her nose in disdain.
"Oh." There was a pregnant pause, then, "I haven't lived as a man in a long time…"
Meg's mouth turned down, though she didn't want to feel any sympathy for him. So she sniffed with feigned disinterest and turned away from the dwelling. "Well, then I'll teach you. And first things first, I am not sleeping in this ratty hole."
Castiel's forehead creased pensively for a long moment, and then he straightened. "Come with me."
He led her deeper into the caves to a narrower section with walls that had been eroded into lattice type curtains. Light filtered down through openings in the top and through the various apertures, casting a dazzling array of light and shadow across the floor. It was actually quite beautiful.
"The dragon won't come here," Castiel said.
Meg noted that the place indeed was too small for the beast to crawl its way into, and though she wouldn't admit it out loud, she felt a measure of relief in that.
"This will do," she said. For a starting point.
She then took Castiel down to the beach again to search through the wreckages for supplies to make the place more homey, making him carry the materials all the way back up the mountain.
They found tapestries and dried them out, then laid them across the floor and hung them between some of the walls. They found pillows that they beat with sticks to remove the sandy coating, and eventually Meg had a queenly bed. She also picked through treasure chests for gems and jewelry, making quite a nice collection for herself.
It was a lot of work spread out over a couple of days, but it kept her from being idle, and, strangely enough, she found she didn't mind Castiel's company.
They were bringing another load of salvaged materials up from the beach when Meg asked curiously,
"Are you the last dragon?"
Castiel halted and turned to face her, brow ruminative. "I believe so." His gaze turned distant as he tilted his head up toward the mountain. "I've lived on this island all my life. My father was a dragon, and yet, despite the circumstances of my birth, I always loved the world my mother came from. I was fascinated by human things, and more interested in them than becoming a dragon."
He dropped his eyes to the ground. "But then one day a ship came, and a hunter slew my father. I was so overcome with rage that my blood kindled, and I let my dragon break free for the first time. But in so doing, I activated all the genetic memories of dragon kind. Like a flood, I saw all the brutal deaths of women in order to further the race. I saw death and destruction, both of mankind and my kin as they were hunted."
Castiel lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. "I realized my father was a monster. That I was a monster. And so I vowed to seal the dragon away on this island, never to leave, never to hurt anyone. My bones will be the last dragon to be buried with its ancestors." He lifted an arm and gestured to the mountain. "This entire island is the skeleton of one of the ancient beasts."
Meg followed the direction he was indicating, and her breath caught in her throat. For the first time, she saw that the sharp crags reaching high into the sky were the great calcified jaws of a saurian head, open in a dying roar. The rolling spine had grown out with moss to create the hills, and around the shoals, the small island rocks out in the surf were the broken pieces of a tail.
It was awe-inspiring and breathtaking, and yet Meg felt a pang of sadness for Castiel, to be the last of his kind, left alone in solitude and a prison of his own choosing. All for being what he was.
She could relate to some of that.
"You shouldn't be ashamed of your power," she said staunchly. "The dragon is a magnificent creature, fierce and glorious."
Castiel gave her an odd look. "Yet you fear it."
Meg hesitated. "Well, yeah, when I was looking down a geyser of fire, I was a little alarmed. Self-preservation and all that." She pursed her lips as she considered him. "I'm not afraid, though. Not anymore. And you shouldn't hide yourself away. You could rule kingdoms, you know."
Castiel looked away. "I do not wish to rule. I don't want to harm people, and that is all the dragon is good for."
"It's not like people are so great," Meg muttered. "They're murderers and slanderers, judgmental and hypocrites."
"You're not like that."
Meg stiffened. "You don't know anything about me."
Castiel ducked his gaze, immediately looking chastised, and Meg felt a twinge of regret.
"Besides," she went on. "I'm not human. I'm a demon, remember?"
"Demons were once human, though," Castiel pointed out. "There is still that goodness in you."
Meg shifted in discomfort. This was not a line of conversation she was going to tolerate. Yet when she opened her mouth to deflect, she surprised herself by commenting with genuine thoughtfulness, "Maybe there's goodness in you, too."
Castiel averted his eyes again, apparently just as uncomfortable with the notion as she was.
After another beat of silence, they resumed their haul up the mountain, the moment flying away on the wind.
