CASTIEL'S POV
I opened my eyes to the familiar view of Crowley's office. It flashed me back to a time when I had enjoyed spending time within these walls. When I would sneak away from Dean and Sam in order to meet Crowley down here, discussing the one thing we had in common; a yearning for all the souls in purgatory. I had so truly believed that I was doing the right thing at the time, that I was the only one who could save and restore heaven. I was such a fool.
But then again, was that situation any different than what I was doing now? Turning to hell in order to do what I believe to be right? I shook my head to clear it of the thoughts that were beginning to form. Of course it was different. This was Sam we were dealing with now, not just a group of angels.
Once I had escaped the dark and tangled forest of my thoughts, I finally took in my surroundings, realizing that something was off. The walls were lined in their usual design, a pattern of blood red and midnight black lines chasing each other in never ending spirals from floor to ceiling. The hardwood oak desk and floors were dark and intact as ever. The blood red shag carpet on the ground in the doorway was appropriately shagged, and the black leather chair sitting behind the desk looked as old and abused as the first time I had set foot in the office. I realized, with a start, that the difference was not the room itself, but something within the room. Within the chair, to be exact. Sitting in the black leather chair that usually held up solely Crowley, was a face I never believed I'd see again. Her dark hair was swept over one shoulder, and she was reading a stack of papers on Crowley's desk, her eyebrows and nose scrunched in concentration.
"Sorry folks, the doctor is out," she said, without ever looking up from her paper. I wanted to say something, to signalize to her that it was me standing in the doorway, not just another demon, but for some odd reason, my voice wouldn't work. I struggled to yell at her for not contacting us sooner to say she was okay, to tell her how glad I was to see her alive, to cough, something, but I did nothing. I stood awkwardly in the doorway, starring at the face of the one demon I never thought I'd get the chance to lay eyes on again.
She noticed, without looking up, that I had not left, brushed her hand through her hair, irritated, and began to speak. "Look bud, I told you-," she began, cutting herself off when her eyes met mine. She gave me a lingering once over with her eyes, as if not believing what she was seeing, not believing that I was truly there, as though I was the one who had been perceived dead for over a month. Was it just my imagination, or had she rested her eyes on mine a beat too long to be considered casual, before she cleared her throat and said, "Clarence."
"Meg?" I asked in disbelief. "How is this-how are you alive?" I swallowed what felt like a weight that had caught in my throat. Odd.
"Long story. Let's just say it pays to have friends in high places. You hang around with those idiots so often, you should know by now that the dead don't always stay." She said with a smirk, the right side of her mouth lifting slightly higher than the left.
I still couldn't believe my eyes. How was it possible that Meg was sitting there, and with not a scratch to her face. She was right about the Winchesters, to whom I assumed her comment was directed, they had died often, and been reincarnated just as often, but they were… special. But Meg? A demon? What reason would there have been to bring her back? Who would've gone to the trouble to bring her back?
"What's wrong Clarence, you look like you've seen a ghost," she said, wriggling her eyebrows.
"Meg, where's Crowley. It's really quite urgent that I speak to him."
She hopped off the leather chair, leaving it bouncing a bit behind her, and crossed the room over to me in three quick strides.
"Why Clarence," she began, a fake tone of hurtfulness laced through her voice, "here I thought you came all this way to see me."
She took another step closer.
Well that was irrational. "That's irrational, Meg. Why would I have come to see you when I just found out you were still alive a few minutes ago?"
She rolled her eyes, taking a step closer to me. The distance between us was almost non-existent and I could feel her warm breath on my face when she spoke.
"Oh, how I've missed you." She whispered.
Crowley, Cas. You're here to see Crowley. Still, I couldn't deny that I was intrigued. How had she survived? What did she remember from her life? Did she remember the day she died? Did she remember dying? What was it like to be reincarnated if you were a demon? "What do you remember?" I asked, not being able to help myself.
"Are you referring to the deal we made to reenact a certain scene pertaining to a certain pizza man? If so, push you're worries aside Clarence, the promise still stands," she said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
That had not been what I was implying. I didn't have time for this now; Meg could stand here and work her games on me all night. I hated admitting to it, but she had a certain charm over me that no one else possessed, and I didn't like it.
I took a step back. "Meg, this is important, where is Crowley?" I kept my voice as steady as I could.
She pretended to pout. When she saw I was not amused, she straightened her face and shrugged indifferently. "'Dunno," she began. "I've been waiting for my beloved King to show his face for almost an hour."
That made no sense. "Why would you want to see him? He killed you."
She rolled her eyes. "I think I need to start calling you something that implies a higher level of wisdom than Clarence. How about Sherlock? No shit he killed me, genius, that's why I'm here. I'm going to kill the bastard myself, once and for all." She took a step closer, once again closing the distance between us. She pulled a blade out of her boots and caressed my face with its dull edge. Tracing the outline of my jaw, my nose, my chin. "I'm going to shove this in-between his ribs," she continued, retracting the knife from my face and admiring it in her hand.
She jumped backwards, a maniac grin spreading across her face. "Long live the bloody king!" She shouted in an accent meant to intimidate Crowley's.
Long live the bloody king.
*authors note* How do you guys feel about the new twist? Feel free to review or message me! Thanks for reading(:
