A/N There is mention of abuse/self harm in this chapter. Just a warning.
Meg blew a strand of her dark curls out of her face and put on another pot of coffee. The delicious scent wafted through the air. I might just pour me a cup. She thought as she surveyed the place.
The diner was pretty dead tonight. Only two teenagers sitting in the back (lost in each others face, she might add.) and an old man sipping his coffee and reading his newspaper. She was working for another hour, and then she could go home, but she was hardly sure she would be able to make it another hour.
She was about to pour herself a cup of coffee when the door of the diner opened, a little bell tinkling to let her know there was a new customer. A tall dark haired man wearing a tan trenchcoat stepped in.
"Clarence! What are you doing here?" She exclaimed. She put her hand on her hip and pretended to be upset, but really she was happy to see him.
"Good morning."
"It isn't morning, Cas."
Clarence cleared his throat and looked at the clock. "Close enough. It's after midnight, after all."
She rolled her eyes and leaned over the counter. "Is there anything I can get you Sir? Since I'm supposed to be working?"
"I suppose a kiss isn't on the menu, is it?" He looked up, mischief in his blue eyes. Meg smirked and shook her head. "I think you've had enough of those."
"I could never have enough." He said.
She took the coffee pot and poured them both steaming mugs of coffee. He sat there on a stool, and she leaned over the counter. And they just looked at each other.
"Why would you want a girl like me, Clancy?" She traced the rim of her cup with her finger and stared into her coffee, not daring to look into his eyes. She was trying so hard not to let her heart get invested in this man. Odds were he would leave her alone when he found out she had more issues than Times.
"I don't know." He responded. "Because you're beautiful? Because you challenge my ego, my wit. You keep me on my toes Meg. Like no one ever has before. I was a very...indecent human being for a while. I didn't really know how to handle the emotions I was having for you. I didn't want them. But I want you to know that I am sorry. And I am going to try as hard as I can to prove to you that I'm not the rude, stoic, standoffish man I acted like."
He reached over the counter and took her hand. "Can I drive you home after work?"
Meg smirked. "Wow, you got real polite real quick." She nodded. "Sure, you can drive me home. But I still have about forty-five minutes until I can go."
Cas stayed with her until her shift ended, and waited outside for her to change.
He took her arm when she came out, leading her to his car. It was chilly and dark, most of the shops closed and people sleeping.
They climbed into his car and he started it up, turning the heat on. Meg warmed her hands in front of the vents as Cas pulled onto the road.
She leaned over and switched on the radio, music streaming from the speakers. A Johnny Cash song was playing and Meg settled back into her seat.
She listened to the song, leaning back in her seat, when she heard soft singing beside her.
She closed her eyes and listened to his raspy, angelic voice singing along to Johnny. Her heart swelled in her chest as she peeked at him, his eyes set on the road, lips moving to the country song. He was so different from any other man she'd ever known. She didn't point out that he was singing, just in case he stopped. He caught her eye and smiled before focusing back on the road.
"I don't particularly want to go home." She blurted.
He looked over at her for a second. "Then don't."
He missed the turn to her house and drove back onto the main road. "Where do you want to go?"
"Anywhere."
"i suppose not home with me?"
She saw the grin puling at his lips and she swatted at him playfully. "Oh why not? You already have a horrid image anyway. Why not just lose all my pride?"
"So that's a no." He added. "Alright. Let's just drive somewhere, and see where the road takes us."
They drove in silence for a while, country songs playing softly in the backgroud like a track to their little roadtrip.
"You like driving?" She asked, watching the dark scenery pass by in blur outside her window.
"Yeah, it comes from my brother Dean I suppose. When we were kids, before Dad's business got really big, we were on the road all the time. We were on the road a lot, and when we got older it was just Dean, Sam and I doing the traveling. Dean loved it, Sam just wanted to settle down somewhere," He laughed and passed a hand over his face. "I was just a wide-eyed kid, who looked up to Dean more than anyone. He loved driving and the trips, so I did too. But I really came to love it on my own, after a while."
"That's beautiful." She said, "So you and Dean-o are really close huh?"
"Yeah. What about you? Do you have any siblings?"
She tensed up, and Clarence could feel it. "I'm sorry." he said. "You don't have to answer that."
"No, that's okay." She said. "I had brother. He was a lot older than me. Ten years or so. He left whe things got really bad with my dad's drinking an' all. You know." She laughed a bitter sort of laugh. "I just, always had thought of him as my protector. Like Dad would never hurt me if Tom was there to protect me. But instead he left in the middle of the night. It's pretty sad how I always thought he'd come back for me."
"Meg I..." He didn't know what to say. He'd never experianced anything like this and he didn't know how to help. It made him so angry that he couldn't help her. Go back in time and protect her from her coward of a father.
His blood was firey in his veins. He pulled over onto a little dirt road, the gravel crunching under the tires as the car rolled to a stop.
He undid his seatbelt and pivoted in his seat to look at Meg. He reached over and lifted her hand from her lap.
He looked up at her, he was asking her permission, she knew. Slowly she nodded and he slid the thin fabric of her sleeve upwards, revealing her wrist.
She knew he wanted answers as he stared at the scar on her wrist, gently carressing it with his thumb.
"I was sixteen." She started, taking a deep breath.
"You don't have to-"
"I want to." she cut him off. "I was sixteen." She repeated. "And he came home stupid drunk. Normally it was just a slap or two, and then he'd pass out. But that night it was worse than ever."
She turned in her seat and lifted her shirt baring her milky white back, covered in long thin upraised scars, and small circiular ones. Pulling her shirt down, she settled back into her seat.
"His hands didn't do the job well enough I guess. So then there was the belt." She said quietly. "When that wasn't enough, it was his cigarettes."
Another shaky breath was drawn in before she continued.
"I didn't want that to happen...ever again." Her eyes watered now, and she squeezed them shut, trying her hardest not to let one fall.
"I was helpless, defenseless. Everything hurt and I just wanted to be done." She laughed and lifted her hands up in surrender, the tears coming now.
"Tom was gone, mother would never help me, and life would go on like that forever until I could move out, and then what? Live on the streets? So I took one of his shaving razors and I..." a sob caught in her throat. She lifted her wrist. "I did this.
I thought I wanted to die but when I saw what I 'd done, I regretted it. I did the first thing I thought to do and went to my neighbor who was a nurse. She wanted to take me to the hospital but I begged her not to. She stiched the cut, but made me stay with her until morning.
When I got home, and he saw what he'd done to me, he cried. That was the first time I'd seen him cry. He quit drinking that day, and he's been trying to make it up to me ever since."
"I'll kill him." Cas said. His eyes alight with an angry fire. He said it so quietly she barely heard him.
"I've forgiven him, Cas. He was drunk when it happened, and he begged for my forgiveness. At first I- I didn't want to forgive him, but you know what? Life is short. And he's my father. I love him, and I forgive him."
He was trembling with emotion and anger. He'd seen a glimpse of how broken she really was, and now every thread that knit him together, was aching to put her back together again. Reaching over he pulled her light frame atop him, pulling her to his chest. She melted into his embrace, feeling his heart beat against hers as she lay there, his arms wrapped around her.
He held her tight relsihing in the softness of her body, the way she smelled of coffee grounds and vanilla, and wishing that he would never have to let her go. She was strong, so strong, yet so fragile, and for that he loved her, more than anyone he'd ever known. And he swore to himself in that moment, he would show her unconditional love. She would never feel alone in this world again.