In the Lethe Series 2

by teaandchess

Three years have past after the events of In the Lethe, when Castiel made his choice to save a demon and the Winchesters made theirs to save one other. All that Dean, Sam and Castiel have fought for to save friends, lovers and family has started to fall apart. Old enemies begin to stalk those that they love and so it comes down to a choice. It will always come down to a choice.

3. Fog (When Angels Wait)

Summary: With Meg returned to her demonic state, Castiel now has to cope with the consequences of his decision three years ago. It leads to something far more drastic than he realizes when Meg takes matters into her own hands. As monsters and demons alike grow unsettled, Dean and Sam realize that something more than demons could be their greatest threat

---

Part 3: Fog (When Angels Wait)

Watching the fire consume the house, the creature wearing Adam Milligan's face enjoyed the rush of heat and the smell of smoke. Lifting a blood soaked hand, he admired at the way the fire highlighted the pale skin and bones of his hand. Everything, in that moment, seemed so tangible and alive. The flames, the sound of people fighting to keep the fire from getting out of control, the smells and sensations of a hundred people gathered to watch the old building burn to the ground.

It was a beautiful thing to have caused.

He smiled as his eyes flickered between icy blue and sickly yellow; but all the while orange embers burned with unholy light in the deep pits of them. His tongue flicked over his lips as he stared at the red droplets on his hand. He'd forgotten how blood could gleam like dark ruby in the firelight.

With a murmur of delight, he stuck two fingers into his mouth and sucked it down like precious liquor.

"Delicious," he said before he let his tongue slide over the rest of his hand until he was clean. Much better than a towel, he thought and now her blood was as deeply familiar to him as her scent. He'd forgotten how potent demons' blood was when the demon was an old one.

He still wondered why, of all those dark souls, this one had come back. This one remained when the rest had been given to the Lethe after their deaths, allowed to escape. There must be something about her, thought one part of him critically, trying to maintain balance as the taste of her blood lingered on his tongue. The other part, the one coiled tight around the light inside him, twitched back awake. Oh yes, there was something, it agreed, snarling and wrapping itself even tighter like a snake around a rabbit, fangs exposed to bite. There had always been something about her.

He watched the Impala pull out of the driveway, leaving the house behind to collapse to smoking ruin. Leave it to them to escape when there was no one to see them leave. Taking with them a prize he knew was worth something though the insanity in his mind wasn't sure what that was. They'd stolen her, with the same speed that the angel had taken her.

It was irritating. Killing the human had been too easy; she hadn't even screamed after spitting in his face and mocking him even when he slit her stomach open. But the kill had been necessary; annoying but necessary. But even though he'd gotten his way, he now had problems. The prophet was already carted off, the Winchesters were gone and, somewhere, a demon was waking up and not where he needed her to be. He had to think about how to move next.

Underneath the surface of his skin, the celestial beings hiding within the blood and flesh cage screeched as they continued to fight for supremacy.

---

An exorcism never ended in heat and ash. Despite the agony and the screams and the way a demon would fight it, the first moments of pain were never as bad as the ones that came after.

An exorcism ultimately ended in fear and isolation.

It wasn't the screams of the damned or the rusted metal hooks that tear into the soul, a sort of hellish greeting given to the exorcised demons, that terrified them.

It was a vast emptiness. There was darkness where there had once been light and warmth replaced by bitter cold.

It made the extreme of Hell so violent when they woke there after being isolated for so long, only to find themselves once again caged and furious. It was why demons fought so hard to rise from the Pit when they succumbed to their darker selves, why they would do anything to drag themselves out, by tooth and nail, and find bodies to hide in. They would fight to never return if they had a choice. The bodies they took kept them caged but in a different way that at least took them from the cages of bone and despair.

The disposable demons would return time and time again and survive the brutality of the Pit if they were sent back. Unless they met with a more permanent fate to never return to Hell itself again, it was an endless cycle for the demons. Rise, fall, torture, rise, fall; a miserable fate that only fed their want for destruction.

The older demons learned to be disgusted by the idea of being caged by human bodies, when they had abandoned them for such beautiful, torturously twisted souls of their trueforms. They rarely rose unless they had a purpose on Earth and they often left it to their soldiers to rise, to suffer in the Pit if they fell.

But even then, there were exceptions.

It was why the demon called Azazel's daughter clawed her way out and survived. She'd come back and ultimately rebelled.

Choking in smoke and ash, she climbed from the Pit each time and always had a feeling of rebirth. Vengeance and purpose. She was born to survive.

Until the Lethe.

Then she knew what it was to drown and have no hope of surfacing.

She was submerged now, legs kicking out uselessly as she tread far below the waves and hovered within dark water covered by a sheet of ice. The light that pierced the glass-like surface was just a shadow to her. Even when she had tried to rise from the water, there was nothing to give her purchase to swim up to see what was above. She had seen a storm, a hurricane, but she was cradled within the currents and kept safe in the calm of the water so that the blinding lightning hadn't touched her.

Each slow pull of the riptide was like gravity, pulling her lower and lower and each day that passed she sank deeper into the water as time dragged on. She lost herself in the water and the ice slowly became familiar, a hard shell that encased her and took her into greater darkness. She drifted into a silence that made her own heartbeat loud in her ears. Such peace was a mercy to her now, instead of a sacrilege to what she was, and it wasn't long before she submitted to the oblivion of the water.

Time to sleep, Meg.

That voice lulled at her, pulled her down, and she let her her arms float over her head as the tide pulled her deeper.

— Meg! —

Another voice, garbled by water and distance, yanked at her like a hand gripping her soul, and she opened her eyes to stare up at the surface. Something illuminated above, this time not lightning but a beacon of light. She twisted in the water, the riptide slowly turning to hands that held onto her legs and body, dragging her down. But the call of the light was stronger and she kicked out hard, once. The hands let go, the tide went still, and suddenly she could move. Her lungs burned with a sudden need for air and she was desperate for relief.

She wanted to get free. She was so close!

The thought of freedom she clung to as she swam through the shadows and rose through the water and ice.

---

"Meg, come back to me. I won't let you die," Castiel whispered as he smoothed his hand down the side of her face again and again. He wanted to soothe her and snap her out of her catatonic state all at once.

It was the same litany he had murmured for nearly an hour. He'd let her lie, still and cold on the grass, with her eyes closed and her chest barely moving, and he hadn't moved her yet. He had wanted to do something. Shake her, stroke her face, slap her, anything to force her to look at him, but he kept his hands soothing and prayed instead.

Prayed even though he knew his Father wasn't listening.

What if there had been limitations to the spell? What if, in the end, it had turned her into a vulnerable human? What if she could resist his healing? What if he'd failed?

Castiel shifted so he sat cross-legged beside Meg and watched her face.

Nothing.

His phone was vibrating in his pocket wildly with text messages but he ignored it. He even knew that he should answer them; the fire at Linda's house would have taken its toll, but still he just watched Meg.

Waited for her.

As he looked away finally, needing to steady himself, he noticed her necklace where he'd thrown it on the ground. Castiel picked it up and let the charms run through his fingers. He splayed them on his palm and tentatively closed his fingers over the smallest of them. They were hot to touch from the spell and humming with power, but without the coins there wasn't that tinge of the Lethe anymore. Castiel rolled them on his palm and let the charms hang for a moment as they cooled. Closing his eyes, he tucked the necklace into his coat pocket, fingers brushing his tiny journal as well.

A low sound caught his attention and his head whipped around so fast that his neck cracked a little.

Castiel heard her breathing stop for a second and his own heart skipped a beat in his chest. He sighed in relief as Meg's chest inflated again, a ragged breath groaning past her lips like a death rattle. She was still for a moment before it happened again, stronger than before, and he scrambled to his hands and knees to lean down over her.

"Meg?"

He touched her face and then glanced down at the bloody shirt. The wound had nearly knitted over, leaving the skin smooth and supple, and he gingerly slid his fingers over it. His Grace created a white line that he could see clearly on her body, dancing over the flesh and sinking beneath to touch her darkness. Meg's lips, still raw and chapped from her earlier cries, began to move and Castiel slid down so he was almost lying beside her.

"Come on," he encouraged, ear hovering just over her mouth as he listened to her breathing deepen. "I know you're in there."

"Castiel," she hissed out low and soft and he smiled, looking up to see her eyes watching him. Wide, staring, and black as pitch. Castiel thought they were absolutely beautiful.

Some absurd hope flooded him at the familiarity of that look; at the way her eyes seemed to flick over his face. As if she was searching for something within the depths of his own eyes: perhaps his true form, the hints that lurked beneath the vessel to show the angel as he was? Meg murmured his name again; her brow was furrowed in confusion as if she was trying to figure out what he was doing there. Then, just as suddenly, her face went blank and he thought she was going to fall asleep again.

Before he could speak, her mouth twisted into a snarl and her fist came out of nowhere. The loud crunch of flesh on flesh was deafening in the quiet park. There was real power behind her punch as it slammed into his face; if he'd been human it would have broken his jaw. Instead, he went sprawling out beside her, gasping in shock at the sensation. His horrified eyes went to her but Meg was already rolling away from him, clutching at her head and nearly tearing at her hair.

"It's in my head, all of it. It hurts. What did you do to me?" she said. Her voice was low, rough from too much screaming and smoke, but it was somehow worse than if she had screamed at him.

Castiel quickly got to his knees beside her.

"Meg, it's me! Castiel," he said, reaching out to touch her but she shoved him back. She's panicking, he thought as he balanced on his knees, she needs to see that she's going to be safe.

"You son of a bitch, I know who you are!" Meg shouted and then collapsed into a fit of coughing. Thick black tendrils of black dust drifted from her mouth and curled around her face, and he watched her head tilt back. Alarmed, Castiel could only watch as a tiny vortex of smoke started to spiral out of her mouth. The chapped bloody lips parted wider and she screamed, echoed by the wind of darkness trying to escape her meatsuit.

Even though he was used to the high pitch and tone of angelic chorus, it was painful to hear as he looked up at the dark of her soul climbing into the sky.

But before it could spiral out of control, something flickered from the body to snap around the smoke and her soul was drawn back down to the meatsuit. It moved slowly, twined beneath a twist of shadow and light that distorted the air around them as the demon was pulled back to earth. Meg's meatsuit sagged under the pressure and Castiel dove to catch her, holding her head back as the soul came back to the abandoned body she'd taken. Her eyelids fluttered and she continued to gasp for air, but there was no escaping the pressure and pain he knew she felt.

Meg began to shake as she felt every buried memory start to weave its way through her mind and remind her just who she was. Not just the surface, the superficial details that any could guess, but the deeper memories that fought their way to remind her who she was and what she had been. Terrifying flashes of pain and a sensation of drowning choked at her.

She was a demon. She'd lost herself for a time, only to be reborn on the damp grass of an abandoned park.

Rocking her back and forth, Castiel tried to soothe her as he smoothed her hair back from her sweated forehead. His arms tightened and he raised a knee so she wouldn't fall on the grass, wouldn't feel cold from the dew and the moist earth.. Castiel closed his eyes and felt her pain as if it was his own as he held her. The angel could hear her babbling, struggling to regain herself, felt her struggle against his strength when her pain tried to convince her to run, but none of it mattered as he waited for her darkness to reawaken fully.

"I'm sorry," he whispered before he pressed a kiss against the top of her head and begged her to come back to him.

He prayed that what he had done hadn't destroyed any chance of forgiveness.

---

"You know, that whole 'how can things get worse' thing just made so much more sense after what happened," Dean said as he pulled into the main street of a tiny town, searching for a motel. He had tried to put as much distance between them and the burning house before he'd slowed down the Impala from its breakneck speed. Before leaving they'd only paused long enough to be sure Kevin was away in an ambulance, then they'd gunned it out of that wreckage. There was no time to see where Castiel had taken Meg, and not enough time to sit and grieve for Linda.

There never is enough time, Dean thought angrily. Damn, she deserves for us to grieve.

But after all these years, both men had grown so used to their losses that they had learned to bury any grief deep down and not dwell on it.

"Shh," Sam growled and he reached over the turn off the music Dean had put on to soothe his own nerves. His brother glared and reached out to turn it back on when out of the corner of his eye he spotted the small child curled up between them. She'd been so quiet he had forgotten she was there. Nyx was bundled up tightly, still in her pyjamas and cuddling her torn toy close to her body, and she was pressed against his leg with her head resting on his thigh. Despite her crying, they'd been able to get her into the car and away from the house without too much fuss.

Neither liked leaving Kevin behind but he needed medical attention and they needed to protect Nyx. Neither understood the strange need to protect her instead of Kevin, but they hadn't stopped to question it. To keep her from crying too loudly and attracting attention, Sam had finally brought her to the front with him. For some reason sitting between them had calmed her and her frightened tantrum had dulled a little.

Dean lowered his hand and patted the top of her dark head, hoping she would sleep for a little longer. It had taken a lot to convince her to sleep and he hadn't been too proud to stop and get some Child's NyQuil in town before they headed right out.

Meg would likely have tried to kill him if she ever found out, though what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"Can't believe you drugged her," Sam said as if voicing Dean's own thoughts as his brother slowed down for a red light.

"I didn't drug her, Sam, I helped her. She was frantic. I can't say I blame her. We went through the same thing, you know how it can mess you up at that age, but I'll be damned if I'll wake her up right now." Dean reached over and nudged Sam in the side before he rested his hand on Nyx's shoulder. "Look, we can't just get her to a hospital, you said so yourself. There are too many people and we don't even know if she would test as human. Linda never said and you know she kept her away from too many doctors. And until we get word from Cas, we can't do much else."

"Yeah, fair enough."

Both brothers watched as the light continued to stay red and Sam leaned down to fish through his bag for his phone without looking away. "What do you think did it?"

Dean sucked in a deep breath and then looked over at him, lower lip thrust out and his eyes piercing.

His brother immediately shook his head at that look. "No, Dean. No."

"It's the only thought I got. That sort of move, you know, with the – Jesus – the ceiling thing? That's not from Crowley's time or even Abaddon's. Abaddon prefers a straighter kill and Crowley would play it out, especially if it was Linda and Kevin. That was old school, Sam."

"Old school and impossible."

"Sam." Dean took in a deep breath. "Think back over the past three years. Hell, even look at who's sleeping between us, and tell me what is impossible."

Sam stared at him and then down at Nyx. "Okay, you've got a point."

"Course I do. I got the brains and the looks in the family." He eased the car forward when the light changed and tapped his thumb against the wheel thoughtfully. "If Meg is —"

Reaching over, Sam punched him in the shoulder and ignored his disgruntled hiss of pain. When he gestured at Nyx, Dean settled down and didn't continue that train of thought.

"Look, maybe Cas is removing that spell as we speak and we'll be good. Full-throttle Meg is better than amnesia Meg by far, and we both saw her take care of that hellhound," Sam explained. "Maybe she would have a clue."

"She seemed pretty upset before whatever happened out there." Dean frowned. "Still not sure what I saw but she was stabbed, Sam. Before that she was looking ready to run. You saw it on her face too."

"Well, her and Linda got along. We both know how she was for the past few years," he said. ""Meg's not been very stable in the past, except for Nyx."

"I just think maybe Cas isn't ready for how bad this could be, bringing Meg back like this." Dean turned the Impala towards the motel sign flashing in the darkness. "Remember how you felt, having your wall broken down?"

Sam flinched. "Dean, I…"

"Or how it would be if you had to forget everything?" Dean gently put one hand over Nyx's ear so he could block her from hearing. "I'm just saying, Sam, I would actually understand this time around if Meg flew off the handle and shivved him."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Sam glanced down at Nyx. "At least for her sake. Kid's night has been hard enough."

---

The moment she stopped shaking, Castiel felt Meg's body go rigid and coiled as if ready to escape. He tightened his arms around her waist and held on as she began to twist and scream obscenities at him; she was elbowing him, kneeing him, anything she could to force him to let go. But his strength was still greater hers and he tucked himself up to prevent the worst of the blows, grabbing her hands and pushing them away behind her back.

"Meg…"

"You son of a bitch!" she screamed again though this time her voice cracked. There had been too many screams, too many cries of pain as she had succumbed to herself, and it had strained her throat. Castiel felt her turn in his arms and he slung his arms tighter across her waist, one hand stealing up into her hair to keep it from tangling around them. He tried to brush it away from her face and was nearly headbutted as she squirmed.

"Calm down. I won't hurt you."

Meg didn't stop trying to get free and he felt her clutching his clothing, her legs still trying to kick away from him to find purchase on the ground. He fought to keep her calm, muttering at her to keep still, that it would pass and it wouldn't hurt anymore. But something changed as she twisted into him, as she realized he wasn't about to let her go, and the grip turned from frantic to angry.

Her hands stole into his coat and on instinct he pulled back just as the glimmer of metal caught his eye. The sword sang as she yanked it out of its holster and sliced the blade through the air, nearly catching him as he rolled away to his feet. It tore his shirt at the stomach and he stared down at the clean slice it had made through the material, his skin prickling from the near miss.

"Meg," he warned and he watched her roll to her knees, the sword shining between them like a block. She flicked it back so the blade rested against her forearm, ready to stab at him if he moved.

"Get away from me."

Holding up his hands, he stepped back and watched her get shakily to her feet. He couldn't hide the way his eyes roamed over her, seeing the visible strain of her body and how her entire body seemed to pulse with demonic life. He could see her true face lingering just under the surface now.

But he hadn't seen it look at him with such hate since that moment years ago. A moment he remembered too clearly: when he had been trapped in fire and had met the demon that had shown such love and loyalty for his fallen brother. They had fought to undermine one another's faith because that was what they were meant to do: hate each other until it destroyed one of them. If the world had made any sense, he would never have risked everything for her and she wouldn't have given up everything for him.

Realizing it, just made him love her all the more and be more determined to stand still and take her rage as his penance.

"Meg, it's…"

"Shut it, Castiel," she snapped. Her other hand went to her hair and she pulled hard on the dark brown strands. "Oh. Oh sweet Hell. It hurts."

He watched her head bow and he took a shuffling step forward, only for the sword to be swung out to barely miss his stomach again. He jumped back and warily watched the wild swing of her arm. "Meg, I can…"

"If you even try to touch me," Meg warned and her eyes opened again to reveal dark brown, "and I'll kill you."

Castiel dropped his hand down.

"You. I remember you now. Who you were. What we… what we did. What you were." She backed away. Castiel felt a part of him breaking at the hate and anger in her face. The way she stared at him as if he was, once again, her enemy.

"I was yours," he offered. "We were —"

""We were nothing!" she shouted and then had to wince at the pain it caused in her head. "You took my life from me!"

Shaking his head, he stepped toward her again. "I wanted you safe, Meg —"

Her fingers tightened around the hilt and he watched her weakly swipe at the air again. "You even come closer."

"— you and Nyx. I wanted you safe. You were the best person for her, Meg. I trusted you."

"Shut. Up. Just shut up." She scraped her nails down her face and then stared at her hand as if expecting there to be blood and flesh on it. "You hid what I was, you… buried me alive. Knowing I might never get those memories, that part of me, back!"

Castiel had never thought of it like that but now, faced with her, he knew how she could see it that way. It wasn't what he meant though; he knew she just needed time to understand.

The urge to touch her was so strong that he held his hand out, palm up, and waited. But Meg did nothing but stare at him as if he was something she was going to kill.

"I meant to bring you back if it was safe, whenever that was. I might for it to be less painful. But you were stabbed, and I… I needed you."

"To what? Protect your offspring still?" Meg's lips curled into a snarl. "Saddle me with the kid and you get to roam free."

How fast her fear went to hateful words made him wonder how much she believed of that.

"It wasn't like that. She needed you."

"Why?" Meg asked and she bowed over to cough. As Castiel watched, the shattered remnants of her mask seemed to fall away from her true face and the smoke and woman became one for a moment. The angel sword dropped from her hand and she groaned, digging her fingers instead into the flesh of her thighs as she shuddered. "Why would you do this to me?"

"We can argue about this later," Castiel said, forcing his voice to a more neutral tone though he was tempted to reach out again. Instead he quickly summoned the blade back to him to keep it safe and away from her. "We need to get you to safety."

Meg's laugh was so stark and sudden that he backed up a step in strange fear of it. The laugh started low and raised sharply, a staccato sound in the still night air. To his ears it was almost maniacal and torn into hysteria with its pain. Her hair drifted in the breeze and she peered at him through a veil of darkness.

"Me? Safe? Oh, Castiel," her eyes flicked to black, "you really should have thought of that years ago."

He swallowed deeply as Meg straightened up.

"I did it to save you."

"You caged me." Her head tilted and his fear intensified when something colder replaced the fear and pain. "Knowing what that would do to me."

"I…"

"Where would they take Nyx?" she said suddenly and he backed up another step as she circled him, somehow seeming more like a predator than a demon. Castiel had never felt threatened by Meg before. Never in their long association but there was pure hate-filled intent coming from her. His demon, he thought almost possessively as he met her eyes and tried to recognize what he saw.

This demon was ready to rip him apart. This wasn't the creature he'd come to know. This was the one Dean had warned him of. The one that had fallen in line with Hell's orders time and time again, the one that had fallen without a purpose and had tortured them until she found a cause again.

What if this was the cost Death had spoken of?

Shaking himself when Meg demanded an answer louder this time, Castiel checked his phone and saw the address. "Outside the town. I can take you…"

"Where?" she demanded and snapped her fingers. He was unprepared for her power to snarl around his and his cellphone suddenly felt hot to the touch. As uncontrolled as she was, her power had been temporarily increased by her rebirth and the phone flew out of his grip. Ignoring his protest, Meg turned it over in her hand and stared at the screen.

"Meg," Castiel warned as he watched her drop the phone to the concrete. Her eyes met his and the hate, the anger that he saw there, tore at him.

She was gone in a flicker and he cursed himself for being too slow, for underestimating her again. But as fast as she was, she wasn't strong enough not to leave a trace behind. Stretching out his Grace, he found the tornado of her dark self and set after her. He wasn't about to lose track of her just because she had surprised him.

A block away from the motel address on the text, Meg landed hard and fell to her back before she could catch herself. Her ability to teleport, at first so eager to rise to her needs, had suddenly weakened just after throwing herself across that distance. She felt disgustingly old and powerless in comparison to what she had once been. She was so tired already and she lay still on the gravel, watching the night sky spin overhead.

What he done to her?

There was no mistaking what she had felt when her soul had sprung free from the cage it had been in. Each torturous memory, of darkness and pain, flooded back and transformed her to what she had been for years now. She burned inside and out, though her flesh felt torn by ice instead of fire. Her lungs burned and her head ached, and the longer she laid there the more that she realized every muscle just hurt.

Feeling the small rocks dig into back, Meg stared up at the moonlit sky and groaned as the headache pounded in her temples. It was easy to decide to hate everything in existence until this ache left. At least that distracted her a little so that she could plan her next move. The shift in the air let her know she hadn't run fast enough and she closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable.

When her eyes reopened, Castiel stood over her after arriving in a flutter of cloth and wings. He tilted his head as she looked up at him upside down. The shadows distorted his face but she wasn't interested in seeing how he had changed, or how he likely was giving her that pitying look she hated. Meg longed to stab him with his own sword, so that she could feel something to measure up to that hate and anger she felt. He'd done something worse than Alastair or Azazel.

He'd buried her and put her in an illusion.

Likely expected her to roll over in gratitude as well.

Damn, she thought, straightforward torture was so much better.

"You're not strong enough to teleport far," he said. His voice was light, as if it was just yesterday they had been together and not three years ago. Meg stared up at him and remembered fragments of that day, though much of it was a haze. Of him looking down at her and smiling, touching her, giving no sign of the betrayal that would happen. "I was going to tell you that."

"Stay away from me," Meg snapped as she scrambled to her feet. The motel wasn't that far away, she realized. Miserable as she felt, she could make it if she walked. Looking down at her own body, she knew she'd gone further looking and feeling worse. Her clothing still smelled of fire and smoke, not her natural scent, and her clunky shoes weren't made for any real distance. But anything was better than another stupid and humiliating fall like that, especially if Castiel was watching.

The angel followed her on foot at a safer distance, letting her pull ahead of him every time his longer legs caught up.

They'd walked in silence for a while until he finally cleared his throat and caught up again. "I need to explain."

"Shut up."

"Meg, stop. If you go back like this, Nyx won't know you. She might see you only as a demon."

"I don't care."

"You need to calm down," Castiel warned as he closed in and reached for her arm. "You need to listen to me."

Without any warning, Meg turned and slammed her hand into his stomach, sending him to his knees. Shocked, Castiel gazed up at her as she knifed her hand into his hair and yanked his head back.

"I don't need anything. I don't even know why I'm not killing you right now. But trust me, I want to." She looked into his eyes and the angel stared back. His eyes flicked over her face as if he was seeing under the surface of her and Meg let him go when it was clear he didn't fear her even when she wanted so badly to kill him. Dusting off his knees, Castiel stood up and cleared his throat.

"I brought you back to save you. You were…"

"I know what happened," Meg snapped and her head twisted to the side as her hand stole beneath her bloody shirt to touch the healed wound. She stroked it thoughtfully. "Just not sure why."

She shook herself again and Castiel watched her warily.

"I sent Nyx with the Winchesters. They can protect her." He was trying to keep her calm but he knew she wasn't seeing it that way.

"You sent my kid with those idiots?" Meg snapped.

"She's mine as well," Castiel blurted out. He knew better than to admit that it felt good to say that aloud.

"You gave up that years ago, angel." Meg once had used that as an endearment but Castiel could feel the insult there now.

"I wanted to protect you but I can't tell you why now. We're exposed. Nyx is safe and if we can get out of the open we can talk…"

The low angry chuckle she gave was full of rage. "You would try to use Nyx in this. Well, Cas, she's smart, not some stupid human. She knows that she's different. She's scared little girl who can't figure out what she is and I couldn't tell her because you took that memory from me! She needed us the way we were!"

Castiel tilted his head, caught by her words. The broken anger in her voice held his attention. "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Need me?" He reached out and touched her, trying not to feel the way she flinched when his hand just brushed her wrist. Meg stepped out of his way and walked around him.

"You made me stop needing you around. I forgot you, remember?" Her head turned a little towards him. "I don't want you here."

"I…" Castiel squared his shoulders. "I want to be here."

Her resentment clear, Meg leaned away and kept walking towards the motel. "So you take me to Nyx and you leave it at that. I swear if you hurt her I'll kill you myself."

"I won't hurt her or you. I never wanted to."

" Broken promises, Castiel, you were always good at those." Meg's bitterness curled around him and he quickly walked in front of her, trying to slow her down.

"Fine, but just wait."

"I'm going to her. Now."

Castiel felt his alarm growing as she passed him again. "She'll see what you are."

"Better than learning her absent father decided to show up," Meg snarled just to twist the knife in, tossing the words over her shoulder with a bitterness that burned. "Stay out of my way."

---

Sam was stretched out on the couch, his head swimming with the start of a headache as he stared at the television. He'd been grateful to get some rest but even lying down his stomach felt like it was being turned inside and out. At least they had warm spot for a change. The motel wasn't the greatest but the rooms were clean and cheap. Dean had anticipated Meg and Castiel, getting a spare room and letting Nyx curl up in bed so their warding and conversation wouldn't bother her. With the door propped open, Dean could watch her as he cleaned his weapons and made phone calls to Garth and the closest hunters to find out if there had been any unusual activity.

That there had actually been an upswing in monster and demonic activity in the north and east likely only meant trouble. Sam had tossed in a few ideas but nothing seemed to fit. Even before they'd gone to Heber Springs, it had been a little quiet lately and maybe they were about to pay the price for that.

When the door swung open, Sam nearly fell off the couch as he launched himself for a possible weapon, the closest being the lamp. He spun, blinking rapidly to get rid of the stars in his eyes as the room swam in his vision. Shaking his head, he focussed on Meg's small body outlined in the doorway, and slowly put the lamp back down. Nearby, Dean stood up and set his cleaning rags on the table.

Both of them could see Castiel standing just behind her, his eyes on the back of her head. Reluctantly, he looked at them both and gave a tiny shake of his head, warning them. Sam leaned back against the arm of the couch and cleared his throat noisily to break the tension.

Her eyes went over him and then Dean as she came into the centre of the room. Sam swallowed when she focussed on him in particular.

"You both knew."

Neither moved or said anything.

"Guess I'm not surprised," Meg muttered and she walked forward, snatching a bottle of beer off the table that Sam had half-drunk already.

"So you're back to full demon?" Dean asked, not trying to sugar coat anything. As she gulped down the beer noisily, she looked directly at him and her eyes went black for an answer. Dean and Sam glanced at each other as she took up two more bottles from the coffee table and drank them down without bothering to pause. Castiel fidgeted behind her before finally closing the door and locking it. He glanced out the curtains, as if he was sure they'd been followed, and then shook his head, turning around to watch the demon.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked her tentatively.

"Let's not pretend we actually care." Meg set the last bottle down with a thunk and made a disgusted face. "No wonder I never got drunk. That crap is weak."

"She wanted to see Nyx. I told her you would keep her safe," Castiel explained to the brothers. Dean nodded to the connected room.

"She's been sleeping for a bit now. I think the fire wore her out. Kev's in the hospital but Nyx seems okay," he said. "It is pretty lucky we were able to sneak out, you know."

Before he could say anything more, Meg was walking towards the door. She stopped to grab Nyx's bag from the floor and swung it up over her shoulder, looking at the men in a way that warned them not to come with her. Castiel sighed at that look and followed her, gesturing for Dean and Sam to stay back. Both hunters happily didn't move to go along with either of them. Dean looked at Sam and made a slicing gesture across his throat and, try as he might not to, Sam grinned and looked away.

But even though he was just behind her, Meg slipped through the connecting door and slammed it in Castiel's face before he could follow. It vibrated with the force of the impact and only leaning back just a bit kept it from breaking his nose. Castiel stared stupidly at the white chipped wood for a long time, head tilted as he faced the door as if he could see through it. Eventually, his shoulders hunched and he slowly sagged forward, pressing his forehead against the door.

Patting him on the back in sympathy, Dean went back to cleaning his shotgun as Sam shook his head and sat on the couch again. The brothers kept their voices low, but he didn't hear a word either said to him. Through the door he could hear nothing of what was happening in the next room and he wondered what Meg was doing.

Turning so his back was against the door, Castiel let his head fall back as he slowly slid down to the floor.

---

The reawakened demon hated the idea of being so close to something that had trapped and hurt her. The Grace it could feel seething on the other side of the door made darkness snarl and curl inside of her and Meg felt herself getting ready to run and escape. Caged too long, everything she was felt swelled and sore from the forced hiding.

You're a demon. Not some simple human.

The temptation to just sneak out the door, covered by the pretence of checking on Nyx, was so strong that she made it to the other side of the room to the bathroom, where she could crawl out the window if she had to. Her hand was already on the knob when Nyx's soft mumbling that caught her attention and made her turn around. The lump in the middle of the bed was shaking and Meg's face twisted into a confused frown. A conflicted sensation that she hadn't expected kept her from turning away.

Kill her and you won't feel a leash anymore, a devious voice whispered, familiar and heavily dripping with seduction. A voice she hadn't heard in her head in three years. It sounded like… Meg's skin crawled and she shook her head. But the voice wouldn't be silenced. It would be a mercy. Kill her.

Even though she wasn't armed, her hand dropped to the back of her jeans where she normally would have hidden a knife. But the instant the familiar gesture happened, her instincts screamed no.

Looking at Nyx, she pulled her hand away and put it to her own forehead instead, muttering for that voice to shut up and leave her alone.

She'd carried that impossible child for almost nine of the most trying months in her long existence. She'd cared for her when all demonic principles should have had her killing her and leaving. Gone against the laws of her own kind because of her.

It was hard to deny the truth.

Meg loved her. She could still remember holding her and comforting her for the past three years against scary dreams and loneliness. Nyx had been hers and hers alone. The only constant she had had that made sense to devote her loyalty to.

Meg shoved those thoughts aside and slid her hands down her legs as she crouched beside the bed. Reaching out, she touched Nyx's dark hair, smoothed her fingers down the baby-soft cheek, and watched her turn sleepily over to her touch. As a demon now she could feel the faint hum of something hiding in her own daughter and she wondered if, like herself, Nyx could no longer hide what she was.

"Nyx."

Her eyes, blue and moist from tired tears, fluttered open to stare at Meg. Instantly those eyes widened as her mouth opened in a scream and the demon put her hand on her mouth to smother it. She felt those tiny sharp teeth bite but she kept herself calm and smiling as she kept Nyx from being too loud.

"Shh. Nyx. It's me." The girl stopped her struggling but her eyes were so large and suddenly dark that she nearly looked black-eyed herself. Waiting for her to look into her eyes, Meg stroked her other hand down her face and let her still weak power just gently touch her daughter's mind.

"It's me. No screaming, got it?"

When she removed her hand, Nyx reached out and shakily poked at her cheek. The flesh was solid even if what she was seeing wasn't and she traced Meg's nose. "Mommy?"

Meg grinned. "That's right, Nyxie. Remember how I looked yesterday?"

Nyx nodded, slowly, still staring at her wide-eyed.

"Imagine me looking like that. Like a game, okay?"

Nyx blinked, just once and slowly like a tiny owl, and as Meg watched she could see her fear leaving her. Meg stared back and saw in her daughter's eyes a sort of calm acceptance on that small face that hinted this might not be something she hadn't seen before. It made her wonder how long Nyx had been able to see demons and never said anything.

How long had she been blinded against what her daughter could be and what would that blindness cost her?

It made her angry just thinking about it but Nyx distracted her when she suddenly launched off the bed into her arms. She wrapped her arms around her mother's neck in a tiny chokehold and started to murmur that she'd been scared. Meg blinked, for a moment back to being pure demon and not sure what else to do in response to the open affection. Nyx's gentleness slowly wore at her and sighing she hugged her back.

"You okay?" Meg asked and felt Nyx nod against the crook of her neck. "Need me to beat those guys up?"

A shake of the head and Meg stood up slowly, finding it easier to lift her than she had before. Even though she still felt drained, muscle memory and old power was remembering what it was and kept her from dropping her daughter even in her exhaustion. Nyx clung to her as Meg walked to the window and stared out at the parking lot. Castiel was waiting and she had the suspicion that he had every intention of talking this over to death the moment she let down her guard and let him close.

The last thing she needed, wanted, was him.

Grinding her teeth together, she glanced at the Impala on the far side of the parking lot, where the dirt drive wasn't so thick with mud. Go figure. Dean wouldn't want his precious thing dirtied and ruined. At the least they'd kept Nyx safe so she could give them a pass for that.

Close by, a truck rumbled down the strip of highway and Meg watched its path thoughtfully. Another pass of cars, campers and trucks, all headed out of town and she started to get an idea. Holding tight to Nyx, she looked thoughtfully at her one hand, still stained and moist with her own blood.

She couldn't stay still now. If she did then she was as good as trapped.

That her mind was working faster than it should while confused by too much anger and pain, wasn't something she even bothered to think about right.

"Nyx, do you feel like playing a game?" Meg asked and she felt the girl look up. She glanced down at her, boosting her up as she began to draw a small sigil on her own palm. "We're gonna go on a trip but you have to be extra quiet."

Those blue eyes looked at her quizzically as they walked back to the ed. "No monsters?"

"Nope. No monsters." Meg picked up the torn toy for Nyx and held it out for her with a grin. "Promise."

---

Dean grabbed a couple of beers from the bar fridge and sat down next to Castiel, stretching his long legs out as he held out a bottle to him. Castiel's eyes were shut as he rested his head back on the door, looking as if he was mediating, but at Dean's impatient nudge his hand lifted up. He took the bottle blindly and lifted it to his lips, taking a long sip before letting it dangle between his own raised knees. Dean watched him for a moment before he took a drink himself, glancing at where Sam was dozing away on the couch again.

Grinning wryly, he clinked his bottle against Castiel's.

"Here's to family, eh?" he asked and Castiel opened his eyes.

"This isn't what I expected," he admitted and Dean snorted.

"What did you expect? A moment of Meg losing her shit on you and then everything gets all normal and nuclear family?" He shook his head. "Come on, Cas, you're not that naive."

"I'd hoped to talk to her before coming back to see Nyx. To make her understand but she's very unstable right now."

"You buried the demon, Cas. You didn't just hide her, you buried her and you forced her to it." He held up his hand. "Don't get me wrong. I know why you did it. I get it. I mean I had you wipe Lisa's memory though that hurt like a bitch for me. So I understand."

When the angel looked over at him, Dean shook his head. "But you know things just don't bounce back like we hope. Not for us."

Castiel closed his eyes and leaned back, his head thumping into the door. "If only things could have been different." He winced as he thought back over the past few years. "Though I imagine they would have only been worse in the end."

"Well, there are positives, right?" Dean nudged him in the side. "Meg and Nyx are alive. Maybe things won't ever be the same but they are here and at least you can keep an eye on them."

Castiel hesitated, eyes opening again and his gaze slowly dragging down the opposite wall. "I guess."

"So we keep them safe and maybe everything will pan out." Dean heard him scoff. "I'm allowed to be optimistic."

"It's super creepy coming from you," Sam called out without even opening his eyes. Dean glared at him.

"Stow it, Sammy."

Grumbling, Sam rolled over to face the back of the couch.

"Do you actually think any of this could end well?" Castiel asked, looking away from his scrutiny of the wall to face him. Dean returned the intense look, seeing under the way Castiel tried to look so casual. He could see his desperation and his unhappiness, how badly he wanted to believe something like this could be fixed. When he had been human he had been more resigned to his fate; this wasn't that Castiel.

Sometimes Dean forgot how the angel had been during those long nine months before Nyx had been born. How careful and yet protective he'd been of them all, as if he'd been given a renewed purpose. As if that had been a fragment of stopped time before the world started again. Never-mind everything that had happened during it; gods and demons, trials and desperation. It had become a distant memory thanks to the whirlwind of the past few years.

But it was memory that had been brought jarringly back to life thanks to a demon and her child, and Dean wondered if Castiel had ever really let any of it go.

He doubted it.

"Dean?" Castiel was still staring at him so he shrugged.

"I hope it does. Not like they are going anywhere without us, you know. Gotta have hope in something," Dean admitted finally. Castiel's eyes narrowed a little, thoughtfully staring at him and then at the floor, and his expression became rapt. One hand lifted to press against the door and Dean thought for a second that he was going to zap in. It would be like Cas, he figured, to just decide to be the angel of the Lord and force Meg to listen.

But he saw Castiel's blue eyes dart back and forth as he stared at the floor, like he was searching for something. When he leapt to his feet, Dean stared up at him in bewilderment.

"Cas?"

"They've moved."

"What?" Sam rolled over a little to look at them. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… I mean…" Castiel reached down and yanked Dean out of the way, ignoring his startled cursing. He shoved the connecting door open and walked in, leaving both brothers to watch him before he leaned heavily on the frame. "Oh no."

"Cas?" Sam pulled himself off the couch.

"They're gone," Castiel whispered, staring around the dark room. Dean and Sam followed him in, Dean pointing out to Sam that the spot where they'd put Nyx's bag was empty. Castiel nervously clenched his fists as he glanced at the open bathroom door and then at the bed. Meg must have moved fast and quiet, he realized. How she had the strength to do that he wasn't even sure.

He took in a low breath and he walked into the room, eyes on the imprint in the blankets as he sat down on the bed. He ran his fingers over the sheets and comforter, feeling the crease in the sheets and comforter. It was still warm to the touch and it was easy to envision Nyx there until just minutes before.

Castiel shut his eyes and before either Winchester could stop him he disappeared.

---

Purgatory…

The alpha vampire settled into a low crouch as he watched the body twitch left, then right, but still not rise. Every alpha and pureblood in Purgatory, regardless of species, had come to pay tribute to her; before she'd never returned home, having been locked away in Hell, but now she was home. Whether or not her body would ever rise again was something no one knew. But the alphas did not stop what they were doing; they were the first to come here after all. There were plans, schemes, spells, that they could try after years spent in this damned place; every alpha had some sort of magic and they were connected the Mother in their own ways.

They began to work their blood magic slowly. Feeding it to the corpse, trying to force it to repair faster than any other could, and using it in rituals to worship her.

No one left the body alone for long. Without them who knew what would come for the body and they were guarding it with more jealousy than they guarded their own territories. Strange, the alpha thought as he watched the twitching, how bringing her back from Hell had somehow caused the souls in Purgatory to make alliances once again.

The pieces of her not rotted or torn were fragments of something pure and awe-inspiring to the creatures in Purgatory. She was their mother, their meaning for life. The alpha gingerly reached out and touched the mud-streaked skin where an incision had left her pelvis gaping open, so that as she continued to reproduce eggs they would be exposed in the pit of her womb. It had repelled them all until those hatchlings had come out. Strange little creatures that were more like spiders and bugs than anything else; they crawled into shadows and then disappeared into flickers of bright light. The lights never left the Mother's body for long, surrounding her in the form of little orbs that formed a bed on the dirt.

Life was springing forth in Purgatory as Eve continued to create her terrible children.

The alpha stroked her hand. "Our mother," he prayed aloud. He was old, so old that he had been in Purgatory, had survived in Purgatory, for longer than any other creature he'd known. His brother still lived topside but he had long since succumbed to the pull of Purgatory. Killed centuries ago, he'd couldn't remember much except this world. He ruled his nest he had made here and had never cared for much else. He had only moved out to bring the Mother back to them all.

It made this out of character slip-up fatal for him as an axe-head sank deep into his neck and with a crack severed his head from his body.

The vampire who'd made the killing blow hoisted the makeshift bone-axe to his shoulder and grinned. "Keep an eye out, boss," he scolded as the body slumped and fell. The bloody stump of the neck began to spurt blood onto the woman's body it had fallen against.

Benny had lost track of time long since coming back to save Sam Winchester. Instead of fighting Purgatory's depraved games, he revelled in it. He'd become the hunter instead of the hunted and decided to fight for the fun. It no longer mattered if the fighting meant something or if it was just for sport. It was bloody and fun.

He had missed this in that half-year spent topside.

Baring his fangs, Benny took in a deep breath and realized that the other alphas were close. The variety of them made his nose ache from the stench of their bodies. They were too close, maybe, and he should be moving on before they realized he had killed one of the big guns in Purgatory.

The other monsters had been up to something since coming back from Hell. A place Benny had not been interested in though he'd seen them all going in and out of that tiny doorway. It left more time for him to stake out his own territory and build more traps.

But still, it was worth a look now to see what had been so all-fire important to take back from the demons.

Kneeling down, he used his weapon as a crutch for his weight and peered at the half-ripped face with its one unblinking eye. The skin reeked of ash and something sweet, not unlike blood and sweat mixed with jasmine. The alpha's blood was stronger in odour and he wrinkled his nose in disgust as it mixed with the meaty, sweat sour stench.

"Ah, cher," he said as he took another deep breath and committed the smell to memory. "Whoever you are, I am sure you have looked better."

But underneath that dismissiveness he tried to feel, Benny could feel something about her. As if she was resonating in power and he knew her. The way he had known every member of his nest.

The way he had known his maker and Andrea the moment he had gone back with Dean.

Reaching out, he gingerly touched that clammy skin and felt a zap like electricity. It fizzled and hissed up his arm, making it go numb for a few moments before settling back into a warm tingle. Startled, Benny flexed his fingers and shook his hand a few times before looking back to see the single eye staring back at him now.

Benny was so focussed in his frank appraisal of the body that he missed how the alpha's blood, now soaking the ground beneath the Mother's skin, caused grass shoots to spring up around her. He missed how the wound in her belly seemed to widen just a little more as the eggs she carried changed colour to burnished copper red. How her torn skin began to heal as the blood touched it and the remaining damage to her body was fitted with new flesh and tiny black scars.

"What are they up to?" Benny looked up at the creatures wandering close-by in the bushes, knowing he should move on. Move and get back to the tiny bit of the forest that he knew like the back of his hand.

But before he could stand, something slid around his ankle and held him still. Looking down, he stared at the tendrils of grey smoke curling around him like strange chains, and he flicked his tongue across his lower lip. What have we here? he thought to himself and the tendrils slowly took form as a hand lifted and touched his ankle, stroking the skin beneath his trousers.

The spark he had felt before suddenly became a full shock that made his eyes widen.

"What the…" He glanced up from the shadows of his hat to stare at the half-ripped face, noticing that a second eye had regrown and opened. There were two orange tinged eyes that stared at him for the longest moment before blinking and revealing milky white consistency.

"Child." The voice was female, soft and gentle and he shuddered at the slow way it hit his nerves. "How long have I been gone for? I was asleep for so long."

Backing away, Benny jerked his leg free just before the face repaired itself slowly from decaying ruin to that of a beautiful woman. She lay on the ground, limbs slowly healing until the skin was smooth completely to his sight and her eyes slowly darkened to earthy brown. But despite her beauty, the only thing Benny felt was a growing sense of horror.

He knew who she was and every instinct told him to run before she saw his face, before he became trapped by her.

By the time the alphas came back, Benny was long gone. Instead, they found their Mother sitting on the riverbank with her toes dipping into the cool water. Leaning back on her elbows with her feet dangling, she was almost innocent and human in appearance. A few growled, thinking maybe a human had slipped through again. But when she looked over her shoulder at the growing amount of them coming out from the trees, something in her eyes made them all bow to a knee. It made her smile to see them all there and as she looked back out at the muted sunlit water, she tilted her head back.

"You waited for me. It is time I reward that."

---

One week later…

The old truck bounced hard as it hit a speed bump on the way into the diner parking lot, suspension grunting and groaning as its tires spun. The man driving it looked as old as his clunker of a truck and drove as if he was about to crash it into every other car, but he'd managed to get them there in one piece. He had driven over fifty miles after his midnight shift with just the promise of a pretty smile and a woe-begone story. He hadn't figured out that he'd been played with yet and likely never would.

Meg still found that twisting humans around her little finger was a past-time she actually enjoyed.

It was safer now to travel with the families and seniors who would stop to pick them up compared to how she had used to travel. Had it just been her, she would have risked the lonely truckers looking to cop a feel and the sport cars with unsuspecting yuppies. But she had Nyx now and she still felt too sore and too weak to do more than resign herself to depending on the humans to get them from point to point. Even that first teleport out to the highway had drained her too much. Using her blood to create hex bags and sigils hadn't helped her keep her strength, it only kept her from being found.

But it had been worth it. A week of silence though they had had to keep on the road while Meg tried to decide what to do. Nyx still treated it like an adventure and hadn't even caused much of a fuss when her mother insisted they travel at all hours of the night. Thankfully she could sleep practically anywhere and was enjoying eating whatever she wanted instead of the strict meals Linda used to make for her. Nyx would just smile at her mother and hold her hand as they waited for their next ride. Meg was pretty sure it was Nyx's big blue eyes and cherub-like cuteness that hooked the old people into picking them up. Certainly wasn't her anymore.

Meg wasn't even sure where she was going but she knew what she felt. She wanted to get to a safe place, far away from other demons, from angels and monsters, and try to figure out, finally, why she'd been brought back so many times. Each lonely road and motel room though only kept showing her how alone she was and Nyx's presence reminded her that she might be risking more than she knew running like this.

Feeling Nyx tuck herself up closer as she napped, Meg rubbed her shoulder gently and stared out at the diner as her ride slowed down. At two in the morning, it was so dark out that the bright neon open sign actually hurt her eyes.

"Winter's gonna hit hard this year, I say," the driver said. Meg made a hum of agreement as he pulled up to the curb. "Sorry, little lady, this is as far as I go."

"Thanks for the lift," Meg said as she grabbed her bag and slid out the passenger seat. The driver's eyes lingered on Nyx thoughtfully as Meg zipped up her jacket and made sure her hands were covered.

"Your girl is mighty little. Is this being on the road good for her?" he asked and Meg ignored him as she scooped Nyx up and slammed the door shut using her hip. The entire truck rattled from the force of it and the driver huffed as he watched Meg pass in front of the headlights.

"Real friendly. Well, that's what you get bein' on the road this time of night, I guess," he said to himself. He closed his eyes anyway. Even single sinners needed some help from on high, he figured. A religious man, he'd been happy to help the strange woman and her little daughter get to a safer spot. God's will, he figured to himself, and the Lord did work in mysterious ways. Folding his hands on the steering wheel, he murmured a low prayer to the angels.

"Lord, you ain't got to listen to a sinner like me, but there's a lovely little woman out here who needs you to watch over her and her little girl. Might as well send them a few extra guardian angels. Kid like that should be protected," he prayed. He nodded, happy with that late night prayer, and unfolded his hands. Waving to them, he drove away and with a pleased smile he'd figure he'd done his duty tonight. When he reached over and cranked the volume on the local station, the unusual whine of static and white noise made him slap the radio hard before turning it off. So much for a pleasant drive back.

Meg ignored the low rattle of the truck pulling away and gave Nyx a squeeze as she balanced her on her hip. "Time to wake up, monster."

Muttering against her neck, Nyx yawned and opened her eyes to look at the diner. Both of them could smell the grease and fried cooking, and after another yawn Nyx pointed at it. Meg was surprised when she started to chatter nonsense excitedly, her childish lisp fighting to express how hungry she was. She looked so excited by the prospective of food that she squirmed down out of Meg's arms and clutched her hand instead, almost pulling her along towards the steps.

Meg followed, one eye on the lookout as she did some quick math. She'd stolen quite a bit of money and the three hundred plus credit cards she'd lifted off the last driver would get them by for a little longer. She watched Nyx stop at the flower pots and grinned as she reached out and ripped one of the flower heads off to sniff it. That was her girl.

Nyx had adjusted strangely well to what her mother was and Meg hadn't even had time to talk to her about it. She just talked about everything else and accepted it.

At least, Meg had to guess she accepted it. It might only be a matter of time before something exploded and she was frightened by her own mother's true face. It did make Meg wonder just how different Nyx could be without her ever having realized it.

Shouldering the duffel bag higher, Meg followed Nyx up the sidewalk towards the diner and caught her hand back in hers as a few men came out of the diner. They looked at her, then saw the small child, and gave dismissive shakes of the heads. Apparently single mothers out this way were still taboo, Meg thought wryly. That was better for her since it kept any one off her back that she'd have to get rid of later.

They were almost at the foot of the steps when Meg heard a tell-tale flutter and felt the shift in the air of something almost electric.

Warning signs that she knew too well.

Closing her eyes, she pulled Nyx to a stop as she stared at the diner. "How did you find me?" she asked out-loud without turning. Nyx looked up at her but Meg still stared at the steps. She knew exactly who was behind her.

"I waited for something to show up, some sign or some signal. I'd tracked you to this county a few hours ago. Then your last ride prayed to the angels." Castiel's voice was low, nearly throbbing with anger and exhaustion, and it brought back fuzzy memories of another time when she'd kept him on the run for weeks.

"Your stalking is getting better."

"I heard the radio. It was a mere matter of pinpointing which station via frequency."

As Meg turned around, trying to be calm, she felt Nyx press tightly against her as she hid just behind her legs. Castiel stood on the sidewalk, coat still moving from the breeze and looking like the angel of the Lord he always claimed to be. The very air around him felt threatening and he looked it as well but weariness softened him just a little. Castiel's eyes were on her, his rumpled coat and messy hair matching the exhausted lines of his features.

Meg had to force herself not to teleport out right then and there.

"Cookie for you, you found us."

"I didn't expect you to leave." He didn't look away from her eyes even when she arched an eyebrow at him. "I had thought you would stay."

"Yeah? Got all I want right here, why would I need to stay? Nostalgia?" Meg snapped and she felt Nyx's hands tighten around her legs as she peeked out at Castiel. She knew that something was wrong when she heard the raised voice her mother was using. Biting into her lower lip, she held on tight to Meg and stared up at the man who was making her mother angry.

"I didn't expect you," he continued as if she hadn't spoken, not seeing Nyx's hiding, "to come all the way out to Oklahoma for the sake of running away from me."

Meg ground her teeth together at the condescendingly cool way he smiled at her.

"That is what you're doing, isn't it? I expected more from you."

Meg stared at him. She'd be impressed by his attempt to manipulate her if it didn't make her angry as well. "This is your plan, Castiel?" she asked, pitching her voice low. "Win me back by making me even angrier with you?"

"I did it for you," he said, voice just as low when he realized that Nyx was staring up at them. He glanced down and met Nyx's gaze. She made a small sound and hid behind Meg again. Castiel gave a crooked half-smile and then looked back up at the demon glaring at him. "And for her."

"Go away."

He shook his head. "No. I can't do that again. Not again and not now."

"I can make you," Meg warned and he stared down at her. He smirked a little, as if daring her, and with some astonishment she realized he would be willing to call her bluff on that. "Just give me your angel sword, Castiel. We can see who's laughing."

"We need to talk. About the fire. Let me have that at least." He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to argue. "Please. It concerns Nyx. She can have something to eat while we talk."

"I don't want to talk to you," Meg snapped childishly.

"Not even if it is about Nyx and how to keep her safe?" he countered, catching her where he knew she was vulnerable. At her name, the little girl peeked out at him and Castiel stared down at her. Meg followed his eyes and Nyx tugged on her hand now that she had her attention.

"I'm hungry," she insisted. "Hungry."

"Fine! Just... fine." Meg could sense that she was being manipulated by both of them, though unintentionally from Nyx. "I'll buy something to feed you, monster. Let's go."

She turned to go, intent on ignoring the angel, and he caught her arm. The contact nearly burned through her leather jacket and she turned slowly to face him.

"Let me go, Castiel."

"No." He stopped himself and took a deep breath before relaxing his hold on her arm. "Please. Give me some time."

Feeling Nyx tugging on her other hand, Meg closed her eyes and counted to ten before she exploded. "Fine. You can say whatever you want to say then go. You get ten minutes or however long it takes to get Nyx into a food coma, we clear?"

"Yes"" He let her go as Meg turned away. He watched her go up the steps, following her even when she let the door smack back towards him, and he shook his head fondly at her rudeness. He glanced down to see Nyx happily inspecting the booths to find the one she wanted to sit in before choosing one in the corner where she could look out the window. Meg snapped out an order to the tired looking waitress for coffee and menus as she followed, which Castiel softened by gently smiling to show they were just tired. The waitress rolled her eyes to let him know she'd heard it all before.

When he made it to the table, Nyx sat across from him with Meg fishing out crayons from the bag and handing them over to her to draw on the paper placemat. Slipping in across from them, Castiel realized how awkward this was when Nyx stared at him curiously, biting into her lower lip. As if she was trying to figure something out. She glanced up at Meg, pointing at him and making a sound.

"He just can't find another table," Meg explained as she stretched her legs out under the table. Nyx frowned and looked at him again, clearly thinking something else. Then her eyes dropped and she began to peel the label off her red crayon.

Meg caught him staring at Nyx before he could stop himself.

"She doesn't know what you are," she said bluntly.

"She knows you're a demon though?" he asked and she blinked.

"Yeah."

"Then it's likely what I am won't be a secret for much longer."

"What is she going to see? The species that makes you a pain in my ass?" Ignoring his glare, Meg leaned back as the waitress delivered coffee and waited patiently for their order. "What do you want, kid?"

Nyx screwed up her face, staring at the frowning stick figure she'd been drawing. "Don't know."

Sensing the waitress' boredom, Castiel cleared his throat. "Pancakes?" he asked her. "Please? She can share with me."

Meg's glare was a warning but he ignored it when he saw Nyx staring at him curiously. Knowing he wasn't the greatest with children sometimes, he stared back. "Okay?"

She nodded and looked back down at her crayons.

Meg waited until the waitress was gone and Nyx was drawing again, her back to them as she used the windowsill for her desk, before she spoke again. "So what do you want?"

He thought of a million answers with the first one being likely the worst to say right now.

"We need to talk," he said instead.

"I am done talking. But unless it concerns Nyx, I don't see what you and I have to talk about right now." Her face screwed up again as if that tasted wrong in her mouth. "Not even sure why Nyx should matter to you."

The sudden chill in the air made her look up from the table to see him staring at her.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" she asked, innocent and bitter all at once.

"You have no idea how I have felt or how I feel now. I've been waiting for this, even if it isn't how I pictured it." He stopped and shook his head. "She matters. You matter, Meg."

"If you think for a second I'm not going to stay angry and ready to kill over this, you have another thing coming."

"No… not that." He leaned back and wrapped his hands around his coffee cup, closing his eyes as he raised it to his lips. "I spent three years waiting for you. I can wait longer."

Confused, Meg arched an eyebrow at him. "You're just going to lie down and wait?" Her teeth glinted in a smirk as he opened his eyes to stare at her. "You'll be a long time waiting, angel."

He took a long drink, eyes never leaving her face. Meg met his scrutiny with barely concealed hostility and then looked away out the window, fingers tapping the table. Hyperaware of his presence, she made a point of ignoring him even when the waitress came back and set the plates in front of them. Castiel didn't move to touch it and with one eye on his hands she slid the plate over to Nyx and cut a few pieces for her. Nyx was still drawing, still talking to her imaginary friends with that low singing voice she liked to use, but at Meg's order she put down the crayons. She popped a syrup soaked piece into her mouth and chewed, massacring the other pieces of pancake with her fork.

Meg finally turned back at Castiel to see him staring at Nyx. Now that her memory, her true self, was back in order, she recognized that he was looking at Nyx the way he had when she was newborn. As if he couldn't believe she was there in front of him finally.

When he caught Meg watching at him, he nervously looked down at the table.

"She's beautiful," he whispered. When she didn't answer, he sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. But he didn't keep going; he simply kept stealing tiny glances at them as if he was afraid they were both going to disappear.

"We going to talk or are you just going to stalk me now?" Meg demanded eventually.

"I'm not even sure where to start."

"How about right when you wiped my memory, buried what I am, and left me on my own with Nyx?" she snapped out. Her daughter glanced up at her and then at Castiel, and both angel and demon knew she understood.

"He's a bad man," she said to Meg though it was more a question.

"Got that right," she snapped, eyes never leaving Castiel. He stared back at her.

"I did it to protect you, both of you."

Both demon and child studied him and Castiel had the feeling he was about to be interrogated.

"Nyx?" Meg asked and the little girl looked up at her. "Stay and draw. I'm going to just talk to Mr. Castiel here."

Something in her voice warned him he had no choice and he stared at Nyx. She stared back, swallowing another chunk of pancake, before she shrugged and kept eating. But as badly as he wanted to stay, Castiel slid out of the booth, following Meg to the small alcove near the diner door.

She turned on her heel and immediately began to rail at him. She was peaking in hushed whispers that were tight with anger and emotion and all he could do was stare and wonder that so much was directed solely at him. He wasn't even sure he heard a word she was saying. Leaning against the doorway, ignoring the curious looks of the truckers and other patrons, he stared down at Meg and felt something turn over inside of him.

He'd spent a week worrying over them. He should be furious with her.

But all he felt was relief that she was even staring at him now, that he could feel her pushing at him with her anger and darkness and thorny beauty and he felt some comfort that she was so vibrant now.

"You're not listening to a word I say," Meg snapped suddenly and he blinked. He stammered out an apology that she ignored. "I said get lost."

"I need to protect you."

"From what?" Meg sniffed, arrogantly looking away at where Nyx was pushing food around on her plate now. "I have to protect Nyx. That's my only cause right now."

"We can't talk here."

"It's here or nowhere. I have to find a place for Nyx to sleep for the night and I need to get something of a plan." Mockingly, she leaned forward. "You're not invited. I don't want you here with us."

He flinched and backed up a step. "Fine."

Surprisingly, he was gone from her sight in a heartbeat. As if he was storming off to prove a point.

Meg shook her head and headed back to Nyx. Leave it to Castiel to throw her off balance with almost flawless ease. She'd spent a week — a goddamn week— trying to find her footing again, and getting nowhere. The only constant had been Nyx and now that he'd shown up she felt strange again. The little girl smiled at her as she came back.

"Full?" Meg asked as she sat down beside her, spearing a bit of leftover into her mouth. Nyx nodded and leaned against her. Meg chewed and stared at the syrup-stained placemat that Nyx had been drawing on. "What's that?"

"Me!" Nyx delightfully pointed out the smoke lines, the small wings, the halo and the black eyes. Meg frowned, looked at it and then at Nyx.

"Doesn't look a thing like you."

"Me if I was you. It's me!" Nyx said with a roll of her eyes but she continued to talk so fast it seemed like her sentences were overlapping. "When I go swimming. Can we go to the beach? What's a beach? Ducks? Ducks at beach?"

The childish lisp tripped over the words but Meg understood her maybe too clearly though she had to piece apart her sentences.

"Nyxie, are you dreaming about beaches now?"

"Like the water." Nyx drew a v-shaped bird and sighed. "Sad now. He was nice."

"Yeah well." Meg knew exactly who she was talking about. "Don't get used to him."

Nyx's puzzled frown didn't hide how rebellious she looked. "Bought me pancakes."

"No, Momma is buying you pancakes. He left before paying." Sensing Nyx about to throw a tired tantrum, she waved her hand. The waitress came back, slipping the bill on the table. But she stayed, lingering, her eyes on Meg.

"So, it's about time we saw you."

Meg tightened up as she realized what she was looking at . They'd been so lost in their arguing before that she hadn't realized that the waitress standing before them was a demon now. Castiel was gone and she'd been so distracted by Nyx that she hadn't even felt the rush of demonic power. Meg instinctively pushed Nyx behind her a bit.

Half the diner was, when Meg looked around, now demonic and she hadn't felt it. Goddamn it, Castiel, she cursed in her head, you can still muddle me up. She hadn't even felt their presence or the spark up her body that let her know that her own kind was there. Waiting to gank her too, she bet.

The demon smirked at her as she leaned on the table. "Hello, Meg." Her eyes went to Nyx. "So, this is the little bastard. Weren't you a naughty demon to have her?"

Meg glanced again, this time at the exits to see them all guarded by a demon. Twisting around, she looked up and recognized the demon. It had been years ago but she knew this one. Old faces never changed.

"Dina. Long time no see. Last time I saw you, you were trying to get the Legion raised under Lucifer. How'd that go?"

The demon's black eyes flicked with unholy light. "You remember it at the most inopportune time, Meg. Soon enough if Abaddon gets opportunity, the angels won't dare invade Hell again. Nor will the monsters."

That had been news to her. Meg was careful not to show it as she grinned and leaned over.

"Heard there was trouble in Hell, the only reason that army would get organized. That's a shame if it didn't work out in the first place for you. Ranks must be getting thin if you're trying to bring back the old ones." She was gambling on buying some time while looking for information, but she was aware of Nyx shaking beside her. She was muttering under her breath, cuddling her toy close as she hid behind her mother for protection.

"Mm, monsters, Abaddon's war and Crowley's deals. All of it is important but Meg?" Dina leaned back, her apron looking stained by blood instead of flour. "We were sent to see if you were alive. You and this abomination. Looks like the intel was correct."

Her teeth gnashed aggressively at Nyx when the girl looked up. "Hello, sweeting. You look delicious."

"What do you want, Dina?" Meg blocked Nyx with her body as best as she could.

"Me? Nothing really. I'm just a foot soldier and waiting for my superiors so I can have my orders. Like you used to. It's been almost four years, Meg. A lot has changed in Hell. Just one thing hasn't changed." Dina leaned forward. "The price on that pretty head of yours. All thought you were dead, sister. Not that we mourned you. Still, better dead than being an angel's whore and mother to his bastard there."

Meg suddenly, desperately, wished she'd stolen Castiel's sword before he had left.

Dina was looking at her oddly though. "But you're different. You're you… but you're not you."

"Tell me about it," Meg said and she subtly grabbed Nyx's hand. A low ping sound in her ears made her glance down to see Nyx staring at the demon, her lips in a tight line.

"Oh, Meg." The older woman glared back at her. "You're not going anywhere. The King and Queen want to see you. And your little…thing there."

Meg didn't correct her, wanting to keep her daughter protected by not telling the demons her name.

"Are you going to come along quietly, or struggle?" Dina's eyes glinted. "Please struggle."

She lurched forward and Meg shoved Nyx under the table as she met the demon halfway, hand digging into her long braid. The other demons moved forward as Meg took a butter knife and slammed it into the demon's hand, pinning it to the table. Dina screeched at the blunt pain and Meg quickly straddled her chest.

"You come near us, I'll kill you," she threatened as she held her by the throat. The demon snarled up at her.

"You against all of us? You think we came here without being prepared? You are stupid, Meg." Dina lifted her head towards her. "You always were so loyal but stupid."

Something snagged around Meg, a coil of dark power, and threw her across the room into the diner wall closer to the kitchen. It was enough to make her vision blur in and out, the shock of pain catching her breath. The force dragged her up into the wall and pinned her against the menu board.

"Oh, really, this is just too much. It is like having a birthday all over again"

The slow British drawl made her close her eyes.

"I knew that letting them all run loose to find you would be worth it." Crowley stepped out from the kitchen. "Hello, Meg."

"Crowley." She focussed, her power warring against his, and slowly she came down to her feet though it cost her some strength. The way everything flooded into her - memory, power, darkness - made her stomach turn over and she swayed dizzily. "Long time."

"So you are alive. What a devious little angel precious Castiel was. He must have learned something from you after all." He dusted off his hands and stepped out in front of the demons to face her.

"You're ignoring monsters in Hell and whatever hijinks Abaddon is going to pull. Just for little old me?" Meg smirked. "How nice."

But instead of gloating, he gave her a confused look. He obviously hadn't expected her to know any of that. "What did you say?"

He looked back at Dina who shrugged, eyes on the floor as she nursed her bloody hand.

"Go get her little bastard then." He crossed his arms and took a few steps toward Meg, tapping his finger against his beard. "You know, whore, we always come down to this. You parry, I thrust. You let your guard down, I win."

She kept smirking. "What makes you think I did that?"

"Sir?" Dina's voice from the other side of the diner made them both look. "That brat is gone."

"What?" He turned to Meg. "You annoying little cockroach. Nothing changes, huh?"

Meg felt the snap of his power curl inside her but her own resisted it with more strength than she really felt. "She's a smart kid. She won't come out."

"You had time get a bit of power, a bit of your old evil bitch routine back, huh?" Crowley leaned in. "What a smart cookie. She must be a special kid for you of all people to protect her but where would you hide her?"

She simply stared back.

"You know ordinarily I have patience for the long drawn out torture but not this time around. This time I need answers and after the week I've had, I am just not in the mood, Meg." With a low singing hum, an angel blade fell to his hand. "Remember how this felt the last time? I really have no worry about you coming back if I do this again."

Her eyes locked on the blade as shock and memory came back to her.

She could even feel its bite as it found its home inside her.

A sudden low scream and a glow of light made them both look over to the other side of the diner again. The rest of the demons cowered back in surprise as the light dissipated. The hum of Grace hung in the air and Meg stared at Castiel as he impassively dropped Dina's meatsuit to the ground.

"Castiel. Should have guessed you would still be sniffing around her like she was a bitch in heat," Crowley said, loathing in his voice. The angel narrowed his eyes at him a little and then stepped over the body, ignoring the demons behind him.

"I warned you."

"Me? I was just having a chit chat with dear sweet Meg here." Crowley smirked. "How is the happy reunion going?"

Meg slipped by him, knowing he wouldn't strike with Castiel there. Crowley's frustration was obvious as he watched her move to the table and peek under it. She saw two large blue eyes staring back at her from under the booth seat, and the shadows moved as Meg's power let them fade a little.

"I'm here," Meg murmured, her voice singsong, and in the next moment Nyx was in her arms. Grabbing the bag and the toy, Meg looked at the doors to find them still blocked off. She held Nyx tighter to her to keep from any of them seeing her face clearly and to keep Nyx from seeing their truefaces.

"Word to the wise. Those two are the least of your worries, Castiel. Not with the rumours going around." Crowley smiled. "You'll need my help, sooner or later. Make sure you got a bartering chip or I may not play so nice."

He looked at the surrounding demons. "Though, to be honest, I can't figure out why I'm playing nice in the first place right now. Maybe you need some roughing up."

"Hold on to me," Castiel warned Meg lowly as they both backed away from Crowley. Nyx squirmed in her arms. When he caught Meg's annoyed look, he chanced looking away from Crowley. "This is the only way."

"Only way out is through us. You're amped up, angel, but not that much." Crowley leaned against the bar counter and took a fry off the plate off a possessed patron's plate. He sniffed it and then tossed it to the floor in disgust. "The things humans put in their bodies."

Castiel lifted his hand and felt Meg reluctantly slip her hand into his other one, her eyes shutting. The glow of light that suddenly spiralled out of his hand was so brilliant that she could see it even behind her eyelids but she didn't hear the demons howling. No death rattles or the sounds of demons escaping his Grace. Nothing. She could only feel that shift in the air and the way his hand gripped hers as Nyx stayed tightly held against her.

---

When they reappeared, Castiel had taken them to the only safe spot he knew nearby: the Winchester's bunker. The old metal door made a familiar, comforting sight and he sighed in open relief before looking at the pair holding onto him. Nyx was pressed between them, still shaking with fear and cold from the night air, and he let his other hand drift over her dark hair for a fleeting touch to comfort her. Meg's eyes were still shut and she was so close to him that he could feel the press of her body against his, her breath on his neck.

Knowing he was taking a risk, he let himself enjoy the moment before he dipped his head low and murmured for her to open her eyes.

They were black when she did, lifting to stare up at him as he stared down.

The moment broke when she realized how close they were. She shoved away and knelt down, setting Nyx on her feet and dusting her off. Castiel looked around, eventually closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath to steady himself against what he felt.

"You okay?" Meg asked her and Nyx nodded, looking perplexed by where they were. She wrinkled her small nose and tightly held her unicorn to her chest.

"Where'd we go?"

Meg looked as well and then up at Castiel. "Yes, Castiel, where are we?"

He ignored the accusation in her eyes. "We're going to be safe. This is safe."

"Oh yeah," Meg held onto Nyx's hand, "safe as that firetrap was for us in the end."

He glared at the back of her head as she headed into the bunker.

The bunker hadn't changed much since Meg had last seen it. Still hundreds of books lining the shelves, weapons, tables and chairs stacked in no real order. It looked more lived in than it had before and was warmer than it had been in the past. But now there was the faint odour of smoke in it, underlying the old must of books, and she shot Castiel a look.

"There was a fire. When we were trying to defeat Abaddon's forces."

"Smells like it was a success," she drawled and he rolled his eyes.

Nyx stared around in open wonder at the high walls and shelves as they came to the balcony overlooking the centre floor. She pointed things out and tried to sound out the words on the books she could see but for all her excitement there was a thread of fear there. After the demons, Meg could hardly blame her.

Meg leaned over the railing, suspiciously looking for the Winchesters and not finding either of them. Or anything else that said they'd been around lately. When she leaned back, Castiel was watching her.

"Why'd you bring us here?" she demanded, ignoring the way Nyx let go of her hand to go look at the glass casing that contained a gold-cased dagger.

"It is safer than being in the open. And I want to talk to you. Nyx can sleep here and you can rest as well."

"This place was a cage for me sometimes. You expect me not to believe you are going to stick me in one again?" Meg asked. But the fierceness that had been in her voice before had ebbed a little.

"I expect you to do what I know you will do. But I want to tell you about the past three years."

"Cliffs Notes version I hope." She turned away and he grabbed her arm.

"You need rest. You're weak."

"I'm not weak. I'm…"

"You should have been able to sense those demons and you couldn't. I didn't keep you safe to see you die because of that!" he snapped and Meg wrenched her arm out of his grip though she didn't step away.

"I would love to see you…"

The clatter of Nyx making her way down the steps made Meg sigh and give up. Until the girl was in bed asleep, she couldn't risk arguing and fighting with the angel. Knowing her luck, Nyx would set some weapon off and explode the bunker.

He caught her arm again, ignoring her irritated sigh. "Does she know?"

"About what?" She spied his desperate look at Nyx. "You being her father? No. Thought it was safer that way. She's already having to handle her mom being a demon." When he didn't release her, she poked his side hard. "Going to let me go now? I want her to get some rest but if she gets wound up there's no putting her to sleep."

He let her go reluctantly and watched her follow Nyx down into the centre room. Resting his hands on the railing, he rubbed tiredly at his jaw and pictured another way this could have gone. Gratitude, reunion, happiness… perhaps something without all this uncertainty. God, he would have fought for all that.

Now he had to start over again.

But as he watched Nyx pointing out the strange pictures on the wall, sigils Dean had drawn as an experiment, he smiled and fished into his pocket for his small journal. He looked at the scribbles and numbers, and on the start of a new page he wrote down the date before putting the journal back in his pocket. Resolving to be patient, he reached for his phone next. He wasn't sure the brothers would be thrilled by their new house guests.

---

The werewolf howled as it charged through the brush, aiming for its prey with the deadly intent of a hungry beast. The tall young man looked like he was hunting and he'd been stupid enough to come into its territory. Central Kansas's small crop of woods didn't always make the perfect hunting ground and it was starving for a good kill. If this man was hunting on his ground, the werewolf would have to scare him off before it lost its original prey.

As it ran and pounced, something snagged on its leg, wrapping around in a noose and then hauling upwards with a whir.

The monster shrieked and roared as it was pulled around, silvery fur rippling in its fury. It swiped at the air and tried to swivel around to bite at the cable binding its leg but the noose simply tightened until the werewolf hung completely upside down from a tree.

Another man, smaller but better armed, grinned at it as he came within swiping distance. The werewolf roared and launched at his face but before it could get far it, a shotgun was shoved into its mouth.

"Might want to curb that," Dean said. "Play nice and I won't blow your brains out."

The werewolf's ears twitched.

"Change back, Mark," he continued and the creature snarled. He cocked the gun and made sure the werewolf could see his finger on the trigger. "I know you can control it, pureblood. Do it."

Slowly, the form rippled, from wolfish to human, and a naked dusky skinned man stared back at them from his upside-down tether. Unlike his other form, he was sinewy and small in stature and so unlike the massive werewolf he could shift to that Dean always second-guessed him. But they'd met before and he knew Mark was one of the few able to change so quickly.

"Winchesters," Mark growled, teeth still in fang form. "Should have known."

"That's us. Why is your kind moving around?" Dean asked as Sam came up behind Mark and bound his hands behind his back.

"Bondage first. Kinky," the werewolf said, staring flirtatiously at Sam. "I like how your mind goes, big boy."

Sam ignored that and backed up.

"Your pack was running in Maine, last record we heard. We left you alone because you helped us out a while back. Now you're in Kansas? What gives?"

Mark swivelled to face Dean. "Maybe I got bored."

"Not likely. You guys were a quiet pack, I thought."

"Might have been." He rolled his eyes, blood still rushing to his head. "You going to kill me?"

"Thinking about it," Sam offered. "Your pack offed that bus of school kids on your way down, according to a few hunters."

The werewolf growled. "That wasn't us. That was something else."

"You mean another pack."

"I mean another monster. We've been smelling them all around. It's why we left Maine last week. Ran close to the ground too. They were starting to show up in the wilds there. Became kill or be killed up there. I prefer the easy life."

"Sure you do." Dean rested the gun on his shoulder.

"What other monsters? Wendigo? Vampire?"

"Got me. They were pretty vicious and I didn't want my pack too close. But there was some real territory scuffles. Lost two good pack members because of it."

Sam sighed. "You know, I think you're lying."

"Now why would I do that?" Mark asked as he rotated around again to face Sam. "Do you know many children it takes to fill up a werewolf? It is an awful lot of work and I would get bones in my teeth. I hate that."

Dean clicked his tongue and the pureblood smiled.

"Really? That's your excuse for why it isn't you. Bony kids?"

"I can tell you this though. Rumour through the underground, through the other purebloods, is that something big is going on in Hell and Purgatory. We can all feel it."

"What, like an alliance?" Sam asked. The thought sent a chill up his own spine.

"Like the monsters would work with demons. You both had a hand in leading us over to them anyway." Mark arched his back and both men stepped back as he changed a little, skin dappling with silver fur. "Something bigger. Let me loose."

"Still can't figure out why I should," Dean said and the pureblood's eyes fixed on his face.

"Because killing me is fun, I bet, but who is going to call off my pack? We'll move on, back to Maine where the deer and the tourist play."

"You get twenty-four hours. Out of our state, you hear me?" Dean turned away.

"Hey, let me down!" Mark yelled at them as they walked away. "Guys! You can't leave me hanging!"

"Watch me," Dean called out as he and Sam went to where the Impala was hidden in the bushes.

Sam waited for the car to be on the road before he finally said anything. "Letting werewolves go now?"

"We'll let Garth know. I don't think they've been killing humans unless threatened."

"So we are now thinking that there is a difference again?" Sam blinked at the dark highway. "Dean, I get that …"

"Sam, think about it. He just told us that there is something moving up in Maine, where his territory was the 100-Mile. Where we both got out of Purgatory." Dean shook his head. "I get hunting monsters but if something big is about to go down in Purgatory, I want to be ready for it. Which means research. And if we killed him, we'd get his small pack down around our heads."

Sam nodded and then flipped open his phone. "Garth's sent a text. Kevin's left the hospital and he took him in."

"Good."

"Yeah I guess. Garth wants us to call him asap." Sam frowned. "Haven't seen Cas all week either."

"He's following Meg around I bet, " Dean muttered. "Here we go again with that mess."

"Maybe he's got an idea." He scrolled through his phone and made a faint 'oh' sound. "We can ask him in a bit I guess. He's at the bunker."

"What?" Dean looked at him as he gunned it out in front of a truck, weaving through traffic. "Since when?"

"Since he brought Nyx and Meg there."

"Oh… damn." Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Damn."

"You said it."

---

Castiel settled in the couch in the common room. He remembered sitting here when the Winchesters had taken him in for a few nights. He'd spent some time staring at the ceiling and wishing for something. Anything. Human or angel… none of it had helped at the time. He'd overindulged in alcohol and drugs at one point, his heart even stopping from too much sleeping medication, and both brothers had resolved to keep him from doing that ever again. Then there had been the other time him and Dean had drunk themselves stupid and smashed half the room up as they played a game of impromptu golf.

Funny how the bunker held good and bad memories equally.

The click of heels made him roll his head on the back of the couch to spy Meg coming in to the room.

"Any booze in this dump?" Meg demanded. "Last time I wasn't allowed to drink. Dean better not be holding out on me."

The angel had no intention of letting her know where the incredibly rare and expensive Scotch was. That would be pushing one too many of Dean's buttons.

"Bottom cabinet," he called out and she continued to grumble as she searched. When she came out, wielding a bottle of cheaper bourbon triumphantly, he watched her unscrew the lid and take a long gulp. Her eyes fixed on his as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve and he looked back down at his hands. Meg took slow steps towards him, eventually pulling up a chair so it was in front of him. She reminded him of an interrogator about to start her work and he watched her remove her leather jacket and toss it on the couch beside him.

She sat down and he realized she actually was going to question him.

"She's asleep in Dean's room. Tell me about what happened the three years I was a walking-coma."

"It's hard to explain," Castiel began.

Meg sneered. "Pretend I'm Dean and dumb it down a lot."

"If I do, will you listen?"

"First time for everything," Meg said as she leaned back and watched him. Castiel leaned forward and stared at the floor between them, not trusting himself to look her in the eye yet. He cleared his throat several times, aware of her still drinking as she waited. Then, finally, he thought of what to say.

"I didn't think I had a choice…"

Slowly, it came out. The three years warning from Death, the fall of the Angels, their battles with Abaddon and the demons, and Sam and Dean struggling to hold it together. How he'd had fallen and become human for a time. How everything had changed and then just as quickly become the same. The angels and demons, the celestial wars to get their revenge on the Metatron, and the way Crowley had bet against Abaddon… before ultimately joining her. The way the brothers had nearly been torn apart, again, by Dean's choices and then thrown back together.

He left out what he had done and hadn't done in those years, left out his doubts and sadness. He focussed on trying to let her know who the enemy still was and buried his own desire to tell her everything he had experienced as a human and angel. The loneliness, the fear, the anger and hopelessness; he doubted it was the time for that.

But the entire time he spoke, Meg's expression never changed. She was listening but there was something more guarded in her expression. As if she was understanding but frustrated by what he was telling her. He kept it short, realizing she was still too angry, the wounds still too fresh and deep. It had been only a week after all. The low hum of his voice sounded good to him, compared to her silence, but eventually he had to stop.

It was getting clear that her patience was reaching an end when he saw her begin to pick at the bottle's label.

"So all of that… all of that made it worth burying me?" she asked.

"No. Nothing was worth that except for you being safe."

She gave a chortle of a laugh. "Think that through, Cas. I could have been hit by a car, drowned, stabbed in a bar fight." She rolled her eyes. "All you did was get the possible blood off your hands."

Frustrated, he watched her drink more than half the old bottle down.

"You won't forgive me for what I did." He watched the way her throat clenched and swallowed, wondered at the way her fingers were curved claw-like. Like she was straining to hold herself in to keep from striking out.

"Nope." She leaned back in the chair. "Get to thinkin' that you didn't have much faith in me. Any idea why I should just jump back into your arms?"

"I did it for you and Nyx. I remembered how you felt about her."

"Then you forget one big thing, Cas." Crossing her legs, Meg's eyes narrowed at him. "You forget how I felt about cages."

"No, I didn't." He shrugged his shoulders to relieve the tension. "I came to find you because of what I knew Crowley could do if he uncovered the truth. I knew that after the fire I had to keep you safe. You and Nyx. But you ran before I could stop you, before I could try to explain."

"That's my modus operandi: flee to fight another day." She took another long pull of the bourbon and wiped at her glistening mouth. Her eyes went black and then brown, as if she was experimenting with her power. But from what he could feel, it didn't throb like it had before. Now it was weaker and he knew she was trying hard to keep herself looking strong. When her eyes dropped to his, he swallowed.

"So what do we do? If-if we can't at least find a way to work together," he began but Meg shrugged.

"We're going to have to have a fight soon, Castiel. One of those knock-down, drag out fights our kind is born to have."

The mere idea of fighting her made his stomach plummet. "I don't want to fight you."

She had a crooked half-smile with no warmth, just a sort of cool yet cruel look. "Doesn't mean it won't happen." Shrugging, she looked up at the steps. "Eventually."

"I didn't bring you back to fight you, Meg," Castiel insisted.

"Then why did you in the first place? Think back, Castiel. Why the very first time? When you pulled me out of the Lethe?" she asked and he flinched. "For what purpose except your own damn guilt?"

"You know why. I don't regret that."

"You may one day." Meg gave an odd sound and put her head in her hands, the bottle dropping to the floor between her feet. She made a low sound of pain and her fingers pushed at her temples. Castiel reached out to touch her and then corrected himself, putting his hands in his lap and clenching them on his thighs. Meg smoothed her hair back while taking a shaky breath, but even bent over she managed to look fierce. "How do I know you're not just going to up and leave again?"

"I swear…"

"Don't. I can't do this, not again, not after everything." She dropped her hands and he forced himself to hold her stare as she stood. "I need to be something more now. I have to protect Nyx and myself and try to figure out what the hell is going on. Even I can tell something is going to happen and I doubt it's a good thing."

Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember the fire clearly. "Whoever tried to kill me… they knew what I was."

Castiel watched her move in a distracted way towards the hall and he followed her closely.

She was muttering aloud, clenching her fingers almost nervously. "I need to be strong, I need to get back to being what I was, and I can't do that with you here because - because -"

"I make you weak?" he asked gently and Meg tensed up.

"This isn't about me anymore, it's about Nyx."

He knew he had to reach her. "Nahara, I - "

The word dropped the air to a chilly point, and he felt the gaping silence acutely. She'd frozen mid-step and he could read the tension in her body as if the name had stabbed at her. He hadn't spoken her true name in so long that the fluent accent he uttered it with sounded so foreign that he had to whisper it again to truly believe she heard him. Her head twitched to the side and she flinched again, her hands at her sides digging into her sleeves.

Castiel stared at the back of her head. "I…"

"You son of a bitch, you think that helps!" Turning around in a whirl, she stalked towards him and he retreated into the opposing wall, blocked in by the tiny demon until his spine slammed into the metal support. The pressure ached but he managed to not let it show. "Don't you dare use my name!"

"You said I should only use it when I meant it. I mean it now for you to trust me. You trusted me then." He caught her swinging arm and whipped her around into the wall, hands struggling holding her still. He let her continue to fight and spoke over her cursing. "Trust me now. I am doing this to protect you."

"Guilt looks so good on you."

"I've wait for you all these years, Meg… Nahara." He held her steady as she gave a strange sound and tried to get him to let go. "You're the reason I waited. You and Nyx."

"All those pretty words, Castiel. Things aren't the same, not now or ever."

"I know." He let her go so abruptly that she sagged back into the wall. "Heaven, how I know."

Meg looked away, eyes on the bottle lying on the floor and glinting with a hunger to forget. He watched her, wanting for her to look up and see what he wanted her to see. How much he wanted to see that demon he'd come to know. Vicious as she was now, he wondered if she was hiding herself from him. A way of protecting herself.

She'd done that before, years ago. But he'd spent hours, days, months, replaying every moment he had had with her in his head and he thought he knew her. Resting his own head back against the wall, he watched Meg's face pull into a disgruntled frown.

"So you're saying I should ignore everything you did?"

"No. But we have to worry about Nyx. You want to protect her, don't you?" He felt terrible using that on her but instinct told him that Meg would agree.

Judging by the way she glared at him, the demon knew what he was up to. "We need to talk to Nyx. She's a child; stuff like this is only going to terrify her if we don't tell her and some demon attacks again."

"The less she knows the better."

Meg rolled her eyes. "Please, she can see what I am, Cas. I bet you she can see something is wrong with you as well." Something cunning, that made her eyes narrow and her lips spread in a smirk, made him uncomfortable. "She's already going to be wondering why you are hanging around me so much."

It was clear when he spoke that he surprised her. "I think that it is for the best, if you have to tell her who I am."

"Oh no, Cas." Dark brown eyes fixed on his face. "That's all for you to do. Welcome to parenthood. I'm already sick of you hiding from it."

With a disgusted look, she shoved him back and left him alone in the common room before he could correct her. Castiel swallowed and realized just what she meant and what he had to do.

It was more terrifying than he had thought possible.

---

Crowley smacked the demon closest to him so hard that he shrieked and fell to his knees.

"I told you to ward the damn building!"

"We did! Against… against…"

Grabbing the man by the back of his neck, Crowley physically forced him to look at the building. "Do those look like Enochian wards to you? Hmm?"

"But I'm only versed in demonic wards," the demon cried pathetically.

"Bah!" Crowley shoved him face first down into the concrete. "I tell you, hired help these days is getting worse and worse." He snapped his fingers at another demon. "You. What's going on in Hell since I left?"

"More monsters being pushed back to Purgatory. No one knows why but they seem to be retreating. They were doing damage," she said, respectfully keeping her eyes on the ground between them.

"Well, I don't like it. What does old Red have to say about it?"

"She… she hasn't called up the others yet."

"That is for the best." He held up his hand. "Speaking of which… how would Meg know anything about it?"

"Well, she is one of the oldest remaining, sir," the demon explained.

"I mean how the monsters were heading into Hell? Abaddon kept that well hidden."

"Well, they are in her domain, sir. Meg is smart and it is possible she could just guess." Her eyes still on the ground, when he slapped her it made her head turn but she didn't fall. One of Abaddon's loyalist spies, he knew, but she was useful.

"I want you to get the word out. I want that bitch and her whelp found. I'll even reward the demon who does it… or the human. Let it whisper to the Hunters that there is an abomination alive and kicking. I want to see them drool over the prospect of getting their heads on the mantel."

"The Winchesters may still guard them."

"Then we'll just have to distract them, won't we?" Crowley's head tilted back and he stared at the ceiling. "And the best way is to follow them on a hunt."

His eyes glinted red as he looked at the demon. "Have a detail sent to that hotspot up north where those werewolves were hanging around and let me know immediately if they show up."

"What about the angel?" she asked, hesitating over leaving. She, like all of them, had seen how easily he'd taken care of Dina.

"Oh, I'm sure precious angel will be distracted enough. Go."

---

When Dean and Sam came back into the bunker in the afternoon, the quiet was disturbing except for the low hum of the television. Knowing Castiel as he did, and his love for television, Dean took his bag and headed for his room.

Finding a tiny girl sound asleep in the middle of his bed nearly made him drop his bag. Until he remembered who she was and then he caught the bag up before it hit the ground. Dean shot her peaceful face a puzzled look and set his bag on the shelf as quietly as he could. Instead of waking her up and taking her to the other spare room, he turned the light back off and headed for the common room where he knew Castiel would be.

Sam was headed down the hall, head down as he finished buttoning up a clean shirt, when a hand suddenly went around his throat and shoved him into the wall. He choked and stared down. Small as she was, Meg had him pinned like a fly to a board and her black eyes were threatening.

"How long did you both know?" she demanded without waiting for him to speak. "Did you know what he was going to do?"

Sam caught on to what she wanted fast. "He asked us to make you safe."

"So why the visits? Why even let me…"

"Because you helped us, that's why." He choked a little as she tightened her hand on his throat. "You were a friend."

She snarled a little. "Don't think I'm your friend, Sam. We use each other."

"Like it or not," he choked again at the grip she had on him, "Cas wanted to keep you safe."

"By destroying what I was."

"He hid you. He took a pounding for it too. Did he tell you about the past three years?"

Meg rolled her eyes and dropped him to his feet. "Cliff's notes version. Short, sweet… meaningless."

Sam said nothing about that. He wasn't about to say anything that might get him killed. Unlike Castiel, he could tell that Meg was struggling to figure it out for herself. "How's Nyx?"

"Sleeping in Dean's room. She's tired out."

"Well, being on the run will do that."

The demon crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head up at him. "What would you have done?"

"Same thing if I had a kid. Anything I could to protect them if I couldn't trust the people I was with." Sam stared down at her. "Good to see you again, Meg."

"Sure it is."

She followed him down to the common room and eyed Dean as she walked down the few steps. He was nursing a drink, leaning back in his chair at the long table.

"So, sleeping demon woke up."

"Shut up," she snapped, suddenly too tired to deal with either of them. Her mind was already trying to remember everything over the past three years. If the Winchesters had hated her for so long, why help hide her? Why hadn't they just shivved her and let the kid be raised by one of their hunter buddies?

Something she intended on finding out. When she had a moment to think clearly.

"Least Cas found you."

"He sniffed around, yeah." Meg ignored the angel as she sat down across from the Winchesters. He looked ready to take a seat beside her but at a warning look he backed away and sat at the end of the table.

Dean noticed and grinned. "You're really in the dog house, huh?"

Castiel glared him, not liking the reference. Meg rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers impatiently.

"Well, I'm here. Cas said I should find out from you idiots if something is going down. So I figure, why not? You guys probably know something."

"Nice to see you back up to the grade," Dean sniped back and she grinned.

"Like it's hard to out-think you two."

"Anyway!" Sam said loudly to distract them. Dean shook his head and set his drink down.

"We did some digging in Heber Springs. Linda's body was never found in the wreckage. But after what Kevin told me, what we saw, I-," Dean fidgeted. "I think it was Azazel."

"Azazel? Long time dead Azazel? Yellow-Eyes?" Meg frowned, memories flickering through her and she gave an almost wistful smile. "Well, shit. Makes a bit of sense."

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest and watched her reaction.

"Except it's impossible. He'd be locked in the Lethe if he even had an afterlife."

"Right, because, like I told Sam, impossible things never happen. As proven by you getting knocked up, right?" Dean asked in a biting tone. Meg glared at him. "Look, it's all muddled, I get it but what if he is alive? Linda died the same way as anyone else he took his plans out on."

"So that means Azazel is back? Why?"

"Why did he stab you?" Castiel interjected suddenly and Meg looked at the table, still confused herself. She remembered her attacker's low murmurs and vicious grin in a foggy way but Castiel's prompting made her reach down to touch where the wound should have been. Meg slowly turned her eyes to him. How he had known that…

"Not saying it is him one hundred percent but let's operate on the side of safety and say that something like him is set loose. Either way, we got a Big Bad hiding out and he's up to something. And Purgatory is on the move too."

"We think," Sam said. "Just lots of rumour and hearsay."

"You guys turned into gossipers in your old age, huh?" Meg's dark eyes almost sparked with anger. "Stuff went to Hell without me."

Dean rolled his eyes and then caught a glimpse of something at the corner of his vision. He cleared his throat and gave a pointed look to the stairs. Meg swivelled in her chair to see that Nyx standing on the second landing, dragging a heavy blanket and her stuffed toy behind her. Her blue eyes were fixed on her mother's face and she looked half-awake but clearly was scared.

"Nyxie? Bad dream?" Meg's voice softened, causing all three men to look at her in surprise. Rubbing at her eyes, Nyx nodded and came down to stand beside Meg's chair.

The little girl stared at them all and then at her mother. "Scared. I want to go home."

"We don't have a home, Nyx. Not anymore. Dean and Sam… remember Henry and Matt? That's them. We're in their home." She pointed at the two men and Nyx looked at them.

"Smells bad. Old," she declared grumpily and Meg grinned at Dean's offended grumbling.

"That's because they are old, kid."

Nyx huffed and looked then at Castiel. Her eyes widened as if she was really seeing him for the first time and then she looked at Dean and Sam. "He's not like them. Looks funny."

"Oh?"

"He's a monster?"

"You have to ask him that." Meg turned and faced Castiel. There was a viciousness in her grin that made him swallow nervously. "Maybe you two should have a chat while the boys explain to me what happened in my town. Have fun."

---

Castiel felt like he was going to his own execution as he followed Nyx to the steps that led down from the walkway, watching her slowly fix her blanket around her small body. She looked tired as she sat on one of the iron steps, her small face rumpled and her hair knotted in thick waves around her face. She scrubbed at her eyes and then hugged her unicorn tighter to her body. The torn thing had seen better days but she held it close.

He knew she wasn't even sure why he had to talk to her when she was nearly asleep, when she clearly wanted her mother. Crouching down in front of her, he licked his lips and leaned forward. Her eyes opened wide as he came closer and he had the feeling she really was seeing what he was. Her hands tightened on the toy's body but she didn't look away.

Castiel didn't realize that they shared the same intense look when they stared at one another. "Nyx, I…"

"You're glowy."

"I am." He stared at the top of her head as she looked down at his shoes. "Nyx, what is your mother?"

"Dee-de-demon." Her voice tripped over the word but when she looked up he could see that she understood what it meant.

"That doesn't scare you?"

She shrugged. "She's pretty."

"Yes," Castiel agreed. "She is that."

Nyx's eyes flicked to his face. "You think she's pretty?"

He grinned. "Always."

She fidgeted, pressing her cheek into one hand as she stared at him. "You a monster?

"I'm an angel," he blurted out. "I'm…"

Her eyes lit up in recognition. "Angels fly. You fly?"

"Not much." He reached out to touch her arm. "Nyx, do you remember who I am?"

"Cas-tee-elle," she drawled his name out as if to tease him. He smiled and her eyes fixed on him. This time she spoke more abruptly, "Castiel."

"That's right. Who am I though? Do you remember me?"

Her small face scrunched up as she tried to figure out what he meant. "No."

"Can I show you?" he asked, not sure that this was for the best. Nyx hesitated, then nodded. He held his hand palm up and she lay her tinier one in it. Murmuring low in Enochian, he began to focus his power on her.

"Cicle Ananael." His eyes gleamed a little as his Grace swam to the surface. "Nyx."

Something flashed in her eyes the way it did in his and for the first time he felt that tiny well of power flicker through her. Like a small electrical shock and suddenly he saw himself through her eyes.

Blurred vision as she opened her eyes and saw his face close to her own. One of the first she'd seen. Newborn cries in the air as he cuddled her close to keep her warm and whispered that he would protect her.

"Hello, Nyx."

Seeing his smile as he tickled her stomach, spreading his shadowy wings out to make her smile in delight.

"You're so happy."

Saw his face turn to one of impossible sadness as his fingers touched her face.

"I'm sorry, Nyx."

Castiel eased the transfer quickly, sensing her fear and distress when the memories grew to be too much. Her eyes widened and she pulled her hand free from his. Her lower lip quivered and he gently reached out again.

"Nyx. I'm…" He cleared his throat. "You're my daughter. I- I'm your father."

The word sounded impossibly loud between them but he watched her face hopefully. Even for a child, it was obvious that she understood him.

Which was what made the way she looked away from him and down at her toy again so hurtful. Nyx seemed to pull away more than just physically from him; an invisible distance seemed to grow in that moment. Castiel watched the top of her head, desperate for her to look up again. His hand itched where she had touched it and he reached out again.

"Nyx?"

"Don't wanna talk," she mumbled, folding up into herself into a little ball on the step and refusing to look up as she wrapped the blanket around herself.

The longer he waited, the clearer it became that she wasn't going to look up. Forcing down the hurt and pain the gesture gave him Castiel sighed and stood up, retreating to where the Winchesters sat. He left her on the step and tried to forget the way her memories had shaken him as well.

Meg was staring at him, glancing possessively at Nyx as well.

"So what do we do?" Dean was asking, aware of Castiel's barely guarded gloominess.

"What do you do, you mean," Meg pointed out, looking away. "I'm not involved."

"You're staying here then," Castiel snapped and she stared at him until he met her gaze. "You're still regaining your strength. We can go investigate and you can stay here. You'll be safe from Crowley here."

Sam looked at Dean and his brother gave him a meaningful look. "I can stay, I guess."

Both angel and demon glanced at him. "I don't need a babysitter," Meg began and Sam grinned.

"I'm not leaving you alone in our bunker if Crowley is sniffing around, like Cas said. You need a place to stay and how many friends do you have left?" Sam countered and her eyebrows arched as if impressed.

"Since when did you grow a pair?"

He ignored her and looked at Dean. "Cas can get you up to Maine and back faster than the Impala anyway."

His brother shrugged. "All right, zap travel with Cas commences. I'm gonna get some weapons just in case."

Meg watched the Winchesters bicker as they walked towards the locked cabinet in the corner of the room, before glancing over at Nyx. The little girl was now playing with her stuffed toy and staring at her feet. For a moment her vibrancy was gone and looked like she was so deep in thought. Something that was unnatural for a child her age.

Standing up, Meg walked around the table and crouched down in front of her. "Nyx?"

Blue eyes lifted and she could tell that she had been crying by the tear-stains on her face. Meg reached out and stood her up, dusting her off.

"Go watch TV in the other room, I'll be there in a moment."

Collecting her toy and her blanket, Nyx was gone though she hadn't stopped sniffling. Meg shut her eyes and turned around, promptly smacking into Castiel. He stood so close to her that she had to put more space between them or risk touching him again. He was watching after Nyx as well and didn't seem to notice her.

"She didn't seem to take it well," he observed.

"You expected her to? She's three, Castiel." She rubbed at her stomach. "Kid's had it hard for the past week. Good that it's out in the open but don't be hoping for the perfect family life anytime soon."

His eyes dropped to her face. "Stay here, please."

Meg sneered at him. "Why?"

"Because I want you safe. And you know you can't keep running forever."

"Baby, I spent years running before we got tangled up. You still don't know what I'm capable of," she said and he looked into her eyes.

"No, I don't." He crouched to look her in the eye, and she jutted out her chin at him. "But you've never had to run from Hell itself with a child at your side, have you? Don't risk her just to prove me wrong."

Meg glared at him but was kept from answering by the Winchesters coming back, Dean carrying a few hunting knives and his gun. Both brothers slapped each other on the back as Castiel backed away from Meg, slowly and giving her a warning look the whole time.

"Be back in a few hours, don't drink all the booze," Dean warned Sam. "And try not to have your hair and face made-over by the kid."

"Cute," Sam muttered as he moved beside Meg. Castiel put his hand on Dean's shoulder but as they fluttered out his eyes caught Meg's. She could see the warning there and had the feeling that if she ran, he would know it.

But then they were gone and she was left staring at empty air.

"So, Moose." She turned on her heel slowly to look up at him. "Where do you keep the good booze?"

He blinked and looked down at her. "What?"

"Well, if I have to spend hours in your company waiting for Dean and the ex to get back, then I at least want to hear your war stories. And I get the feeling me getting a little drunk might make it easier when you hit the oh-so emotional parts."

He stared after her incredulously as she walked away from him to the common room. Shaking his head, he rubbed at his chest and followed her.

"Good to have you back, Meg."

---

The backdoor to Hell was pulsing, throbbing from the force of something that demanded entrance. The demons standing on the other side watched and waited, not sure what to think of the change.

Standing at their head, Abaddon tossed her red hair over one shoulder and narrowed her eyes. They had pushed back, slowly, at the monsters' invasion and were winning. She thought they were winning anyway. She hadn't heard from Crowley in days now.

Which made her think that the little worm was up to something again.

"Close it," she snapped at the demons heaving at the iron doors. Heavily magicked, they were burning the demons' skin as ten of them lifted it up and pushed it over the hole. Abaddon's own interest in Purgatory meant nothing. Not when she had others to control.

Legions of them.

Every day she could swear that she felt something breathing down her neck, waiting for her to turn her back and expose her weakness. The door was the first step for her regaining control. But as the iron door lifted and began to weld itself to the broken barrier, it smashed inward, crumpling as if it had been struck. Abaddon cursed and slammed her fist into the wall, pushing back with her own power.

But whatever it was on the other side was stronger than her.

For all her power, the door was blown backwards and sent the demons crowding the hall scattering. The light that poured in was muted sunlight, false but disgustingly bright in Hell, and Abaddon stepped around her demons to face the threat head-on. They'd accepted her as their Queen because of her willingness to fight, not knowing that her thrill for the kill was what made her do it.

There was a crooning noise on the other side, like animals mating, and through the light a slim silhouette stepped through, bare feet sliding over the iron grating. Arms lifted out to the side, the creature who came through looked like a woman at first glance.

Until her face came into full view, one side normal while the other was little more than mangled flesh. Her white dress was torn in the middle, revealing a belly half cut open so black blood and tiny round balls dropped to the floor as she walked. It was like seeing tiny grenades falling and Abaddon backed up a step as sickeningly sweet odours began to fill the sulphurous air. It smelled like over-ripe peaches and jasmine.

The woman was young, beautiful in a torn way, and she focussed her white eyes on Abaddon.

"Sister."

"Sorry, sweetie, we're not related," Abaddon said and the slow grin made her stare at the creature.

"I meant that as in… Queens… you are the Queen of Hell? A Mother to your kind in a way. That is what your kind told me, the ones who came into Purgatory. Abaddon, correct?"

"That's me, who're you?"

Her eyes rolled back in her head as if thinking. "I have so many names but the last… the last was Eve." Eyes now brown, she smiled gently at Abaddon. "And I'm looking for a way out."

"Crowley said you were dead."

"You don't think something that is born in Creation can be so easily killed, do you? By human men?" Eve spun and laughed, staring at the demons. "Mm."

"Going to have to find your own doorway out, sister," Abaddon spat the word out, "I've got a Hell to run."

"Oh, I don't need that many of you. Just two. Somewhat like the Ark, so to speak." She grinned and her teeth were fanged. "Any volunteers?"

"Get her back to her side," Abaddon snapped at two demons and her eyes focussed on Eve. "No offence, I don't play well with monsters."

"That's a shame. I've learned how to play with your kind if they get in my way. Live and learn." Her smile was wicked and a demon closed in on her. Turning, she laid her hand flat on his face and stared into his eyes. He stopped moving and stared up at her as if mystified by her hideous beauty. Eve bent close to him. "Kiss me. We have such places to go."

As if compelled, he let her kiss him and then the other demon on her other side allowed it as well when she turned to her. Eve moaned at the pressure of the kiss and the female demon shuddered when it ended.

Then, stunningly, Eve's own body slumped down and disappeared into a pool of black ooze. Startled, Abaddon looked as the ooze slowly evaporated in the heat of Hell. The eggs that had been dropping also evaporated and the two demons she had kissed turned around to face their mistress. She watched their faces closely for an answer.

"Well?"

One began to speak and then choked on the words. His head tilted back and he howled, a black plume of smoke rising from his mouth. Abaddon's head jerked left and right as the second demon did the same, and the smoke raced out of Hell, slowly changing to a brilliant orange colour. The bodies they had brought with them collapsed and exploded into fire but no demon noticed.

Not when suddenly the monsters who had been lingering on the other side of the door burst through and attacked.