Dean loosened his psychic grip on Micheal seconds after Alice's bullet found its mark. Micheal tried to drag in a breath, turned his eyes to Caroline. She looked on glassy-eyed, gaze glued to the colt in Micheal's right hand, the barrel still pointed dead at the ground. Micheal couldn't draw the breath he wanted to. Panic set in, physical pain blossoming in his chest as the agony of Torxing faded entirely. He tried to bring his hand up to feel the wound, but he couldn't do that either. Try as he might, he found himself incapable of translating intent into action. He was helpless against the pull of gravity, forced to obey its will as the ground summoned him. The thump when he fell vibrated through every dead nerve in his body, but he only felt it in his head.
Micheal locked eyes with Caroline from the ground as she walked over to him slowly, crouched by his side with quiet sadness. Defeat and acceptance radiated off of her, infuriating Micheal in his dying moments.
He cheated! Dean cheated! I should have won this duel! Carol! You can't let them get away with this!
Micheal managed to contort his features into a scowl with colossal effort, but another attempt to take a breath ended in failure as blood filled his throat. The world spun and his eyes burned as he felt it suffocating him, thick and scorching as pitch. He managed a cough and red erupted toward Caroline as she reached out to comfort him.
"It's ok, Micheal," she said. Her voice was soft, expression dead even as her eyes brimmed with tears. He wanted to hit her. They had never been close. Would she mourn him, even though it was her fault he was dying?
"You did good," she assured him. "It's over. You finished it."
Micheal wanted to snarl at her, wanted to bark, wanted to scream. Nothing was over.
It was too late for any of that.
"This isn't over!"
Micheal stood over his own empty corpse, screaming at a cousin who could no longer hear him through the veil that separated them. He watched as Caroline closed his vacant eyes with two fingers while Dean and Alice slowly made their way toward one another in the background.
"Do you hear me, Carol?! I'm not done with them! And I'm not done with you! You'll pay for this, right alongside Alice!"
"Of course I would get the toughest job of the week."
The beleaguered sigh came from behind Micheal, a woman's voice interrupting his rant. He turned, already knowing what he would see. His blood would have run cold had he any. The reaper stood in a long black dress, stick thin and ivory pale in complexion. Her white lips turned down in a terse frown as she regarded Micheal severely, like he was a mess someone else had made and she had been tasked with cleaning up. Micheal turned his back to her, dropping to his knees next to his body as Caroline closed her eyes, taking a moment of silence over her fallen cousin.
"Carol, you can figure this out," Micheal plead, tone changing as it began to dawn on him that his murder would go unsolved, even with clues screaming out to Caroline. Blood seeped slowly through his black sleeves. All Smiths were Torxed at a young age, the cost of passing the ability on from generation to generation. "Look at the blood. My cuts just reopened. Last week, remember? It caught me by surprise and I had to excuse myself from a meeting. I shouldn't be bleeding now! Those cuts are half-healed. Look down. Carol! Look down!"
"CAROL!"
Caroline's eyes snapped open. Micheal saw goosebumps prick up along her arms, saw the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. A thrill shot through him as he realized that on some level, he was getting through to her.
"Carol! Look down!"
Her eyes flitted down to his sleeves. Her fingers followed, brushing over the dark cloth and coming away scarlet. She pursed her lips, a realization flashing across her face as she put the pieces together.
"Yes! It's not over! Carol, it wasn't a fair fight! They cheated! It's not over!"
Caroline spent one more moment in silent, troubled contemplation before her features hardened with resolve. She wiped the blood from her fingers and took the colt from Micheal's cold, loose grip. She stood slowly, approaching Alice and Dean. They stopped talking as she neared, giving her their full attention. Alice's eyes darted to the gun in her hand, straightening and tightening her jaw.
"Yes!" Micheal cackled, following Caroline, filled with elation as he waited for her to take vengeance for the miscarriage of justice that was his death.
"Well?" Alice prompted boldly, hands on her hips. "Moment of truth, Smith. Are you as good as your word? Was this little show worth anything? Or are you going to prove me right about your family and put that magic bullet through my heart?"
Caroline fixed Dean with her intense gaze, scrutinizing him. He crossed his arms over his chest, but the olive green sleeves of his jacket betrayed him, stained black by the blood soaking through near his elbows.
Proof. A blind fool could put the pieces together. Micheal grinned and waited for Caroline to call Dean out, declare the results null, kill them both for their crimes.
Caroline met Dean's eyes. He held her gaze adamantly, rage still simmering behind the bright green of his irises. His thoughts were clear, seeping uncontrollably past his stony expression with fiery, righteous intent. He regretted nothing. He knew he'd been found out and he didn't care. He was so certain Micheal deserved death that he was convinced of his own absolution for the sin. Foolishly, arrogantly, he neither feared nor expected repercussions for his actions.
Micheal's elation knew no bounds. He would have let it carry him to heaven were it not for Caroline's next words.
"You win, Alice."
It was a sigh, an admission of defeat.
"What?!" Micheal demanded through the veil. None of them could hear him as he raged at the injustice.
Caroline flipped the colt, offering it to Alice by the handle. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a velvet bag. It clinked when she dropped it into Alice's waiting palm, the colt's remaining bullets settling a debt.
"I'll never come after you. Neither will... most of my family."
Alice snorted as she passed the colt to Dean.
"I knew it. All you Smiths-"
"Look, I can't speak for Kaydie, ok?!" Caroline snapped. "And I can't control her either! None of us can. She's been a wild card ever since Greta died, and... I wish I could do more. I wish I could do enough to make my family's word worth something again. I just... I'm just one Smith."
The earnest defeat saturating Caroline's tone made it impossible for even Alice to mock her any further.
"I won't come after you. My family won't come after you. But you'd be wise to keep an eye out over your shoulder for Kaydie, because she'll never stop coming for you. Not til one of you is dead," Caroline warned. "And making sure you know that is the only thing I can do to protect you from her."
"Well. I guess I'll just have to kill her first, then," Alice shrugged, unshaken by the grim assurance. "Let's go, Dean."
She turned and walked away, but before Dean could follow, Caroline put a hand on his arm, over his open Torxing marks. He grimaced in pain, forced to face her.
"Winchester."
Her fingers dug into his wounds savagely, eyes alight with animosity as she seethed. Alice turned back in time to see Caroline pull Dean close enough to whisper in his ear.
"I know what you did. Next time our paths cross, you'll be as dead as Micheal."
The promise seared itself into Dean's brain, burned there like the pain in his arm as her nails gouged his flesh. She released him, glaring after him as he followed Alice out of the park.
"What the hell was that about?" Alice asked with raised eyebrows.
"Same old story," Dean sighed, wincing as he put a hand over his sleeve to slow the bleeding from his arms. "Just one more name to add to the list of people who want me dead."
"Shit. Want me to shoot her on our way out?" Alice offered.
"And screw up your new peace treaty with your family? Better not," Dean sighed as Alice grabbed a pair of bags out of her stolen car and tossed them into his back seat. "No, I'll take care of my own problems. One at a time. First, we need to give this shifter what's coming to him."
"For what it's worth, when the time does come... after we finish this hunt, screw my family and screw peace. I'll help you kill every last one of them if that's what you want."
"I just want things to go back to the way they were before this shifter showed up and turned my life inside out."
"So... you got over blaming me for that?" Alice asked as she settled into the passenger seat. Dean left her hanging, gunning the engine and tearing away from the park as the sun hurled its light over the hunters and their crimes. Alice let him put a few miles between them and Caroline before she spoke.
"Are you gonna wrap those, or were you planning to pass out from blood loss?" she asked, reaching for her backpack.
"Please. Hardly the worst I've had."
Despite Dean's nonchalance, he knew she was right. The steady crimson drip from the slashes on his arms was too persistent to ignore.
"Here."
Alice held out a roll of gauze. Dean pulled over, accepting it from her. He struggled to get out of his jacket and didn't protest when Alice reached over to help him. She tossed the blood-soaked coat into the back seat and held the end of the bandage so he could start wrapping.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
"Not just for this. You didn't have to do all that to get me out of that mess. I know you could have disappeared. So thanks for coming for me."
"Seriously, it was the least I could do," Alice assured him, cutting the gauze and applying a strip of tape as he started wrapping the cuts on his other arm. "After everything we... everything I..."
"Alice? Do me a favor?"
"Hm?"
"Forget all that crap. It's time to leave it in the past where it belongs."
He caught her eyes and showed her something she never dared let herself hope she would see in him.
Forgiveness.
It caught her off guard and filled her with such relief and gratitude that she actually started to choke up a little. Without acknowledging it, she had been waiting for Dean to forgive her for the last seven years. It took him going through with it for her to realize how badly she really needed the vindication.
"Yeah?" she asked, hiding the rush of emotion behind a small smile and a helpful final snip at the gauze.
"Yeah."
The exchange was short, laughably simple, but it freed Alice from the weight of the regret she'd been carrying with her for so long. Was this the blank slate she'd spent so long believing she would never get a shot at? The second chance she thought she would be denied forever?
Maybe not, but it was a start at the very least.
Dean kept the conversation moving. Alice couldn't help feeling amused, couldn't hold back a small smile. He still hated big moments as much as ever.
"So, where the hell is this slippery shape-shifting son of a bitch?"
"You just want to jump right back into the fray, huh?"
"Oh, always. Keep it moving," Dean affirmed.
"Never a dull moment when you're running with a Winchester. But don't you think sleep would be a good idea first? This is big game we're after. You're gonna want to be in top shape for this fight."
"Sure, and usually I'd take the day, get a room and sleep off my time as a hostage, but my daughter is on the line. I'll sleep after this bastard's good and dead."
Alice pursed her lips. As much as she thought Dean was underestimating the alpha shifter, under preparing as a result, she also knew better than to waste her breath reasoning with him. Nothing in this world or the next could blind Dean as quickly or whip him up into as much of a frenzy as his family. She would just have to pick up the slack, fill in the gaps and work overtime watching his stubborn back.
"Fine," Alice sighed, biting back the urge to grumble a little as she reached into the back seat to rummage through her backpack. She came back up with her chloroform kit and presented Dean with a small blue tab.
"Give me ten minutes, then scratch and wave that under my nose," she instructed him. Dean regarded it dubiously, shooting Alice a look that let her know he had questions.
"I'll be back by then," she assured him.
"Okay, but what if you're not?"
"Sandy'll make a run for it and we'll have to chase her down," Alice shrugged. "She might not bother. She knows by now that she can't get very far."
"Uh-huh."
"See you in ten."
Dean quickly rolled down his window, wrinkling his nose as Alice soaked the rag in chloroform and took a big whiff of the fumes. She draped the cloth over her face and let her hands fall to her sides as her eyes slid shut. Dean pursed his lips with concern and disapproval, but stopped himself from taking the rag off her face. He assumed that Alice knew more about the necessary steps to keep a shifter under than he did.
He checked his phone to pass the time, looking at his messages for the first time in just over a day. He wasn't surprised to see a series of unread messages from Bobby, growing more concerned every few hours. With a sigh, he sent out a quick flurry of texts apologizing, assuring Bobby he was fine and briefly recapping the events of the last twenty-four some odd hours. He waited for Bobby's reply for what felt like an eternity. The clock on his phone informed him it was actually only eight minutes that passed. He was scratching the smelling salts by the time his phone rang.
"Bobby?"
"Dean! You utter frickin' blockhead! Don't you know better by now than to do anything with that damn family of snakes?! When are you gonna get it through your damn fool head that-"
"Bobby! I got it! How's Mary?" Dean asked as he waved the tablet under Alice's nose.
"Do you get it, Dean?! Or are you jumping straight from the frying pan into the fire going from one damn fool plan to the next?!"
Alice's eyelids fluttered, taking Dean's attention away from Bobby's ongoing rant. Long eyelashes rose like stage curtains to reveal hazel eyes and Dean was dumbfounded as he realized Alice still had the ability to take his breath away. Memories of long ago tempted him, of waking up before her and waiting for her to rejoin him in the realm of the waking. Peaceful moments that it hurt him to think he would never experience again. The reminiscence was ill-timed and fleeting, but it threw Dean for enough of a loop that it left him as disoriented as Alice. It took them both a few seconds to regain their bearings.
Alice came back to her senses before Dean. She bolted upright, stiff as a rod. The brief instant of deceptive tranquility shattered as her eyes widened, frantic alarm screaming at Dean from every cell in her body.
"What's wrong?" Dean demanded, interrupting Bobby, still chewing Dean out over the phone.
"Boy, are you even listening-"
"Is that Bobby?" Alice asked.
Dean nodded while Bobby placed her voice.
"Alice Smith?! Oh, Dean, tell me you're not-"
"Save it, Singer!" Alice snapped. "You need to take the kid and get the hell out of dodge!"
"What are you-"
"I hope you're talking and running at the same time!" Alice said, grabbing the phone from Dean. "The shifter's bearing down on you! You don't have long, you need to run! NOW!"
"Dean, what's she-"
"Just do it, Bobby!" Dean agreed urgently. "Call me back when you're out of there! Alice?!"
"Blindfold the girl!" Alice said in closing. "Don't let her see where you're going or he'll be able to find you again!"
"What?!"
"Bobby, go!" Dean urged. He ended the call, breath coming hard and fast as he turned to Alice, silently demanding an explanation. She was breathing just as hard as he was, eyes wide with panic and... was that a hint of guilt Dean saw?
Oh God, what did she do this time?
The thought raced through his mind, chasing itself, dominating his brain and rendering him unable to think of anything else.
"Don't be mad," Alice began. "I forgot something really, really important. But in my defense, I haven't had to worry about it in years, so..."
"What?!"
"There's a psychic link connecting the alpha shapeshifter to all his children."
Dean chewed her words over in silence, taking a moment to decode them and fully absorb their meaning.
"You're saying... what, he can read Mary's mind?"
"Well, that's... not quite, but close enough," Alice sighed. "The point is, as long as Mary knows where she is, the alpha will know too."
"Hence the blindfold."
"Hence the blindfold."
Dean held his phone, biting his lip as he waited anxiously for Bobby's call.
"How close was he?" Dean asked. "How close did the bastard get to Mary?"
"He was in Sioux Falls. That's all I know."
"Damn it, Alice!"
Dean's animosity took Alice by surprise. Shouldn't he have been grateful? Hadn't she just saved Singer's life, stopped the alpha from making off with Mary again?
"How the hell could you forget something that damn important?" Dean demanded, near growling in his fury.
"Look, it- it's been years, like I said!" Alice shot back defensively. "I sealed that door up in Sandy's head a long time ago! I'm sorry it didn't come back to me right away! I don't know what else you want from me!"
"How about you take a minute and think real hard, Alice!" Dean snapped. "See if you can remember any other important details you forgot to mention the first time around!"
Something occurred to Dean, an ugly suspicion that stoked the fire of his rage. His eyes narrowed with anger, warning Alice a split second before he grabbed her forearms, shaking as he questioned her like he thought he could knock the information loose.
"Did you really forget, or was this some kind of sick plan of yours?!" he shouted, rocking the car as Alice grunted and swatted at his hands helplessly.
"Dean!"
"YOU USED MARY AS BAIT, DIDN'T YOU?!"
"DEAN! I NEVER! GET OFF ME!"
Unable to free herself from his grip, Alice got creative. She slipped her jacket in the confined space and tangled it around Dean's arms in the process. He thrashed against the restraint, livid as she pulled the leather tighter, wrenching a cry from him as his arms twisted awkwardly. Alice threw her weight against him, forcing him against the car door and almost completely immobilizing him.
"You're lucky I like you so much, or I'd have stabbed you by now!" she spat. "Moron! Think about it for a minute, Dean! If I was gonna use your stupid kid as bait, wouldn't I make sure I was there to see the trap spring?! Huh?! If I was heartless enough to throw her into the meat grinder, why the hell would I be here saving your dumb ass instead of ending the thing that killed my sister?! Why would I- AH!"
Dean interrupted Alice by pulling the door handle, sending them both toppling out of the car onto the blacktop. Dean yanked the jacket, untwisting it to free his arms and pulling it over Alice's head before she could recover from the tumble. She gave a blind kick, but Dean was done fighting. He took a step back, leaning against the impala while Alice disentangled herself from her jacket. She faced him, fists up, ready to keep going, but Dean just shook his head and waved a hand at her dismissively.
"I believe you," he sighed. "Knee-jerk reaction. Sorry. I guess it'll take a little time before I can trust you again."
"God, you're a lot more on edge that you used to be," Alice observed, disgruntled as she shrugged her way back into her jacket. "Fatherhood looks paranoid on you."
"You'd be paranoid too. Every time I turn around something's trying to grab my baby," Dean scowled.
"Whatever, Dean. Get it together. Next time you grab me like that, I'm stabbing first, asking questions later."
"Sorry."
"Yeah, you should be."
Dean's phone dinged in the car. He retrieved it quickly.
"It's Bobby," he sighed, relief apparent. "They're on the move. He gave Mary a book. Thank God. Smart Bobby, as always."
He fixed Alice with a frown of consternation.
"'Blindfold her'," he scoffed. "Some parent you would have made."
"Well excuuuuse me..." Alice rolled her eyes. "...For trying to help."
"You were on the right track, I'll give you that," Dean sighed. "Ok, we need to move while we know where this son of a bitch is."
"He'll be long gone by the time we make it to Sioux Falls," Alice pointed out.
"Fine, then you'll just have to find him again."
"Unless... I don't have to find him again."
Dean crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Alice's expression change. He could see wheels turning in her head, though the direction of their machinations remained a mystery to him.
"I can tell you're thinking of saying something I'm not gonna like," he accused. "Spit it out. Go on."
"Ok. So, to be fair to me, this was actually your idea. I'm just the one saying... maybe we should take advantage of the fact that our target is reading Mary's mind."
Dean was already shaking his head, so Alice threw her hands up, rushing her next words in an attempt to get out ahead of his rage.
"I'm NOT saying we use her as bait!" Alice all but yelled, taking a step back with her hands up above her head. "I'm saying, if we play our cards right, feed Mary the right misinformation, maybe we can get this sucker to come to us. Eh? Huh?"
Dean pondered her words, ran the idea over in his mind a few times.
"Ok. I'm open to hearing more," he finally ceded.
Alice let out a theatrical sigh of relief and wiped her brow melodramatically.
"You sure you don't need to throttle me some, get it out of your system before we put a plan together?" she snarked.
"Alice-"
"I mean, I didn't offend your delicate sensibilities? I didn't take the sacred name of Mary Grace Winchester in vain? For sure?"
"Ok. Yeah, I deserved that."
"You deserve a knife in the bicep, but I guess I'll settle for stabbing you with sarcasm."
"Now you're taking it a little far."
Alice grabbed his arms and shook him playfully, pantomiming his voice in falsetto.
"'Oooh my goooood, Alice! Bait, you used her as baaaaaiiiit!' Drama queen."
"You done?"
"Sure, for now."
"You're never gonna let this one go," Dean groaned.
"I'll let it go if it ever stops being funny," Alice snickered as they got back into the car.
"So. Are you ever gonna tell me about this plan of yours?" Dean demanded.
"I didn't have a plan. Just the one idea," Alice admitted. "You wanna chip in a little, or did you lose your thinking cap somewhere along the wonderful, paranoid path of fatherhood?"
"I'll chip in over breakfast," Dean sighed. "I can't think on an empty stomach."
"Dean, you can barely think on a full stomach."
"Ok, if you spent as much time thinking of a plan to kill this shapeshifter as you do coming up with all these smart comments-"
"Don't get all mopey on me, I'll stop. You're so sensitive."
"Your... face is... sensitive."
"Ouch, good one," Alice mocked. "Sick burn. Hey Dean? Let's hope the quality of the plan we come up with is closer to my style of zinger than yours."
"I forgot how much I hate you," Dean grumbled.
Fourteen Hours Earlier
"You have to be feeling something by now!" Meg exclaimed.
She gestured back down the aisle of the liquor store they had decided to occupy. A few hours hopping from bar to bar had proven less fun than she initially hoped. Demons had a fairly high tolerance for alcohol, but it surprised her to learn that even her veteran tolerance was nothing compared to Castiel's. Behind them, every shelf in the tequila section lay bare, desolate in the wake of the angel's passage.
"I feel... something," Castiel said with his eyes narrowed tightly. Meg watched him expectantly. He held up a finger and slowly opened his mouth. He belched a little and seemed very surprised at himself. "Pardon me."
"That's it?" Meg demanded. "Damn, Clarence! If I'd have known you were such a party animal..."
She trailed off as his expression changed, grew distant. His head cocked to the side, listening to something only he could hear. Meg's cheery disposition faltered.
"Oh no," she whined. "I know that look. It's Winchester, isn't it? He's calling you."
"His prayer is urgent," Castiel observed. "It would seem the danger is... imminent."
"So what, he whistles and you're just gonna run to his side like a trained dog?" Meg said bitingly.
"Like... a good soldier," Castiel replied. Meg couldn't be sure, but she thought she detected the slightest hint of a slur in his words. The fact that he hadn't teleported away already told her that his judgement was at least a smidge more impaired than his sober facade indicated.
"I've got a riddle for you, Clarence," Meg said, pulling one of the last tequila bottles from the shelf ahead of them. "What do you call a soldier after their entire army abandons their mission, turns tail and runs?"
"Uh... I feel like this is a trick question," Castiel frowned.
"It's not. They're just called civilians at that point," Meg said slyly. "You're really telling me that you're ready to devote the rest of your existence to carrying out orders that the rest of your kind bailed on?"
He seemed torn. She could taste victory, sweet on her tongue like strawberry champagne. She opened the bottle and took a swig, then offered it to Castiel.
"Dean Winchester can take care of himself," she went on, sidling up to him, close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath. He was breathing faster than usual, pupils wide in the bright light, hair even messier than it normally was. Despite his denial, Meg could tell that the tequila was finally getting to him, giving him a nice buzz at the very least. Maybe just one more push...
She lifted the mouth of the bottle to his lips and tilted, holding his gaze as he slowly drained it to completion.
"He... certainly has disdained my presence to date," Castiel admitted, slightly winded from chugging so much fluid without taking a break to breathe.
"So give him what he wants," Meg urged, sliding even closer to the angel. Their bodies touched and a sensation akin to an electric current passed between them. Castiel stood still as stone, resolute as a brick wall. He wasn't going to move and she wanted to see if he would push her away.
He never did.
"It's always fun to give a man what he wants," Meg breathed, leaning up onto the tips of her toes to whisper the words at Castiel's ear.
"Meg?"
His voice was uneven, dare she say, even a little unsteady.
"Yeah, Clarence?"
"I think I'm beginning to lose sensation in my tongue. Is this an effect of imbibing?"
"Mm. That depends. You can't feel anything at all in it?"
"Its diminished capacity for sensation is-"
"Shh, that's the wrong answer," Meg tsked. She found herself getting a little light-headed, oxytocin mixing with the alcohol in her bloodstream to form the beginnings of a truly intoxicating high. "Let me feel."
She kept waiting for him to stop her as her hands snaked around his waist. She pushed her lips against his, tongue darting out to dance briefly with the angel's. Still, he offered no resistance, let her have her way with his mouth until she pulled back, satisfied.
"Feels right to me," she told him. "Tastes like champagne and tequila. I'd say you're a little tipsy, Clarence."
"It feels... very enjoyable," he said quietly.
"Damn right it does. That's the point. How about my examination, hm? Did that feel enjoyable too?"
"It did."
"You wanna try it again?"
Meg cocked her head back, offering her lips and waiting for him to make the next move.
"I should... find out what's wrong with Dean," Castiel managed hesitantly.
"Forget Dean," Meg purred, bringing one of her hands up to caress his neck, winding its way up into his hair. "My tongue feels funny too, Clarence. Return the favor and check it for me, will you?"
She pulled him down ever so slightly, nudging him in the right direction and feeling immense satisfaction when he took the cue. His kiss was clumsy, but he followed her guidance and for a moment, Meg even thought she felt a little spark of passion behind Castiel's usually methodical actions.
"Still enjoying yourself?" Meg asked when they finally broke apart.
"Very much so."
"Oh honey, if you like this, I can't wait to give that straight halo of yours a real spin," Meg grinned. "What do you say? Forget Winchester?"
"I..."
"Say it. Forget Winchester."
He was still reluctant, so Meg turned up the heat a little. She brought her knee up, gently probing between his legs and humming with satisfaction at what she found there. Both off balance and distracted, they stumbled back together, crashing against the shelves on the wall and sending empty bottles down to shatter against the linoleum underfoot.
"Go on, Clarence, say it," Meg urged, replacing her knee with grasping fingers as Castiel gasped. His lips sought hers again, but she evaded, nibbling his neck to coax the words from his throat. "Say it. Forget Winchester."
"Forget... forget Winchester," he rasped eagerly.
"Forget Winchester!"
"Forget Winchester!"
"He can take care of himself!"
"He can!" Castiel echoed. Together, they slid down the wall, the floor welcoming them with a bed of broken glass and alcohol puddles as they both grew more frantic.
"That's good," Meg crooned, guiding Castiel's awkward hands over her body. His lips found her neck, lapped at her pulse in imitation of what she'd done to him mere seconds earlier. He was a quick learner, Meg observed happily.
"Now let me take care of you, huh Clarence? What do you say?"
All he managed were desperate, panting breaths and small humming moans. Meg decided to take his silence as a yes.