A/n: Third and final part... Thanks once again to the lovelies at the Beta Branch for their feedback, and thanks to finaljoy for the original scene to play with. :D
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Dean sprawled on the floor in front of the couch next to Sam. The blond gulped air and touched a shaky hand to his bleeding chest.
"What…" Sam panted. "What the hell just happened?"
"That would be Kratos," said Bobby, arms crossed over his broad chest.
Cas helped Dean to a sitting position, then gently onto the couch. Sam got to his feet and noticed Meg curled up on the floor inside Bobby's devil's trap. She wiggled her fingers at him in greeting. Sam pointed at her and opened his mouth to ask Bobby why the hell Meg was here, and looking pale and frail.
"Hey boys," she said lazily. "Fancy seeing you here."
Dean had more or less recovered his breath and ignoring the demon, he questioned, "Wait, Kratos, as in the god of war?"
"No, idjit, that's just a video game," Bobby rolled his eyes. "Kratos, as in the Greek god of strength and power."
"What was he doing in Wyoming?" Dean croaked, rubbing at his neck. Bobby handed him a handful of bandages to hold to his wounds.
"Meg?" Cas gestured for her to explain.
The demon sighed and didn't bother to sit up when she answered, "He shows up every couple hundred years or so to remind humanity that they don't actually know what real strength is."
"Yeah, he mentioned something along those lines," Dean nodded.
"Sorry, probably not important," Sam interrupted. "But, why is she here?"
"Hey, watch the tone, Lurch," Meg sniped.
"She came to warn me about Kratos," Cas replied. He eyed Meg. "In a manner of speaking."
"Did you know your boyfriend spends his spare time sniffing flowers?" the demon smirked at Dean.
"Warn you?" Sam scrunched his eyebrows together.
Meg rolled her eyes. "All right, it was a matter of self-preservation, so sue me. Kratos was after me, I dodged his ass, and he went back to ravaging schmucks in Wyoming."
"Why was he after you?" asked Sam.
"Uh, demon? Hello? Does anyone need a better reason?" she rolled her eyes again at the lot of them, then nodded tiredly at Dean. "Anyways, you two stumbled on his trail, I went after Wings to tell him how to off the god, but Kratos came after me again and then Saint Emotionless zapped us here."
Dean and Sam looked between Cas and Meg.
"Figured Kratos would go finish up his gig in Casper before he came for me again, and I was right."
"He recognized me when he saw me," interjected Cas. "I fear we will not be safe here for long. He will know that I have saved all three of you today – three victims he was supposed to have killed."
Dean gingerly lifted the blood-soaked bandages to inspect the gashes on his chest. "Well, he sure tried, anyway."
Bobby pulled a stack of fresh gauze from the first aid kit sitting on the desk, and sat down on the couch beside Dean to patch him up.
"He'll be back," said Meg, her eyes sliding closed like it was too much effort to keep them open. "He's coming for us."
Dean peered at her curiously. "What's wrong with you?"
The demon opened her eyes a touch. "Same thing that's gonna be wrong with you if you don't banish Kratos."
"What d'you mean?"
"Anything unusual happen today? I mean, outside of the weird deaths and monster attack."
Sam cast a sideways look at Dean who shifted uneasily.
"What?" asked Bobby at once, not missing the boys' silent exchange. "What'd you idjits do?"
"Thought so," Meg smiled.
"I… maybe…" Dean avoided Bobby's stern gaze.
"He thought he had super powers," Sam answered for his brother, and couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice.
"I did!" insisted Dean. "I had super strength, and invincibility! I tried to stab my arm with my knife and couldn't!"
Meg giggled then full on laughed.
"And you didn't question why?" Bobby snapped.
Dean sort of half-shrugged and opened and closed his mouth. "Would you?" he managed.
Bobby fixed him with his best you-are-an-actual-moron look.
"That's his schtick," said Meg when she'd stopped laughing. "That's Kratos' thing. He touches you, and then in a moment of adrenaline, the curse he puts on you begins. You get a couple hours of incredible, powerful strength, before becoming too weak to fight him, and he shreds your insides. And outsides for entertainment value."
The men in the room focused their attention on Meg, none more sharply than Dean (who had silently felt pretty woozy the last ten minutes but was chalking it up to blood loss).
Sam tossed a worried look at his brother.
"He get you too?" asked Dean, and Meg gave a weak nod.
"What's with all the dead plant life, then?" asked Sam. "All the victims' houses had brown lawns."
Cas perked up. "And the roses in the garden – they grew and died before our eyes when Kratos arrived."
"Wait, roses in the garden?" Dean eyed the angel and laughed. "You and her in a garden? How quaint."
Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean, Meg had her infuriating I've-got-a-secret grin on again, and Sam cleared his throat loudly, attempting to get them back on track.
"The grass?"
"It's some side effect of his strength and power thing," said Meg, tearing her eyes away from Castiel. "It's basically what he does to humans only in super fast-forward, because plants have zero defense – pesky things that get in the way of his aura of magical influence. Like skin, and brains, and will power."
"So how do we stop him?" inquired Sam.
"You don't," Meg sighed heavily. "You only banish the bastard. It's not a permanent solution – a permanent one doesn't exist, far as I know. But it'll work for another couple hundred years, and that's good enough for me."
Sam and Bobby exchanged wary glances.
"Well," said the older man. "It's not like we have much of a choice."
"What do we need?" Sam asked Meg.
"All the ingredients in Mom's pantry," she drawled.
"And once we banish him to another realm," said Cas. "You and Dean will be at full capacity?"
"I hope so," Meg mumbled.
"Well, then let's get this show on the road," said Bobby and rolled up his sleeves.
Cas materialized in and out of the house, gathering ingredients from across the globe that Bobby didn't already have in his stores. Sam searched for the binding and banishing spell Meg told them they needed, while Bobby began preparing the altar, painted in Greek symbols with the blood of an anaconda.
Meg remained curled up on the floor, looking very much like a terminally ill patient in a hospital. She was white as fresh snow, her eyes sunken and bruised in appearance, her breath shallow. Dean laid on the couch, and though he wasn't quite as bad off as Meg seemed to be, he was certainly getting there.
Though earlier that day he felt like he could have lifted a house with his bare hands (and probably truly could have), now he was finding the glass of water Bobby had brought him too heavy to bring all the way to his lips. He felt weak and shaky like he had the flu; hot and cold with fever.
"We're almost ready," Bobby said from the kitchen.
Dean merely grunted in response.
"Comes on fast don't it, hot stuff?" Meg smirked.
"Yeah," Dean replied. "Not a fan of this."
"It comes in waves. You think you're feeling better for a minute, and then you can't sit up anymore."
"Oh joy."
Cas appeared in the living room with a jar of black stuff. "He's here."
As if on cue, thunder sounded, rattling the windows. The house plant by Bobby's desk began to rapidly bloom, and the whole house shook.
Bobby darted into the living room to snatch the jar from Castiel's hands. "Stall him," he instructed and dashed back to the kitchen where Sam was furiously reciting passages out of an ancient volume of some description.
Castiel glanced at Meg as if she might have a suggestion on how the angel was to do that.
"Good luck, Wings," she murmured helpfully. "This is all you."
The front door smashed open with incredible force and Kratos strode in, slow and casual as if he owned the place. Bobby ran to the archway between the kitchen and the living room, shotgun raised, loaded, and ready to fire.
"Don't come a step further," Cas warned the advancing Greek god.
"Or you'll what? Disappear again?" Kratos tilted his head mockingly. "Do you really want to tangle with a god, little angel?"
He peered past Castiel and spotted Meg on the floor. The relaxed smile slipped off his features.
"You are here," he said irritably. The thunder outside grumbled softly, like a lion's purr.
Meg opened her eyes. "Yeah, K, you got me."
The god glared fiercely at Meg then at Cas. "Is this why you didn't call? Are you with him?"
Meg heaved a long-suffering sigh and pushed herself to a sitting position with wobbly, white arms. "Are you kidding me? It was a one-night stand. You do know what a one night stand is – surely they had those last time you were in this realm?"
Kratos' expression was pinched and petulant.
"Wait, are you saying this is all just the one night stand from Hell?" asked Dean incredulously.
"That would be me, actually," said Meg. "Literally."
"Not all…" said Kratos evasively, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking awkward.
"Seriously? A pissed off ex?" Bobby glanced between Kratos, Cas, and Meg with disbelief before scowling at the demon on the floor. "Dontcha think that was pertinent information to share with the rest of the class?"
"Hey, my love life is none of your damn beeswax, old man," Meg retorted hotly. "Plus, Rocky and Bullwinkle were already on the case of the shredded Casper-ites, so the fact that I slept with a guy, that I didn't know was a freaking god, really has nothing to do with anything!"
Bobby huffed. "Except now he's standing in my living room, and is totally pissed off on account of tangling with you!"
Kratos straightened his spine, at once becoming the intimidating tall man that had entered. "That's correct. And you, I have no quarrel with. You are free to depart."
"Like hell I will," Bobby replied without missing a beat.
"Very well, you're also free to die with the whore, the idiot, my prey, and the angel."
"Wait," piped up Dean from the couch. "Which one am I?"
"Uh, you were the one throwing yourself at me, buddy," Meg sneered at Kratos. "Whore is a little rich coming from you."
"Enough," Kratos boomed, and the thunder outside crashed to match his outburst. He took a step further into the living room and began to raise his arms.
"I warned you," Castiel growled. "Don't take another step."
Kratos gave Castiel a measured, thoughtful look, and then all chaos broke loose.
Rows of fire sprang up from the lines of the devil's trap on the floor. Meg screamed, Kratos shoved Castiel with bone-breaking force, and Bobby fired a round from his gun at the golden god. Castiel went flying right through the living room wall, collided with the fridge in the kitchen and landed in a heap.
Dean staggered to his feet, fighting the wave of dizziness threatening to take him down as Bobby ran to assist Sam in completing the banishing spell. The floor pitched and roiled.
Kratos lashed out at Dean is if he were a fly and sent him sprawling into the nearest book shelf. He advanced on the fallen hunter.
"You humans. You think you're so very powerful. I give you a taste of my power – of real power, before showing you how weak, insignificant, and pathetic you truly are." Kratos bared his teeth at Dean.
The hunter could barely sit up – something was broken (ribs? Wrist? Both), and he was having trouble breathing. The smoke from the fire wasn't helping. Meg cried out in pain.
"How I, the God of Strength," Kratos continued, moving slow and deliberate towards Dean. "Can rip you apart piece by little piece, as easily as you tear a piece of tissue paper."
"Wow," Dean bobbed his head as if impressed. Fresh blood was trickling down the side of his face and he was having trouble focusing. "You really have a God complex." He chuckled at his own joke but Kratos didn't crack a smile. "Oh come on, that was funny."
"Hey!" Castiel shouted from the direction of the kitchen. "Assbutt!"
Kratos spun around. In the angel's hand was a liquor bottle and a rag. Cas lit the rag on fire with a lighter.
"Worked for Michael," he murmured. He launched the projectile at the god, who roared and whirled and batted it away, just barely.
The bottle sailed across the room and smashed out the window, landing in the dirt outside. His prey momentarily forgotten, Kratos tore after the angel, intent on destroying the distraction before finishing off Dean.
At the make-shift altar in the kitchen, Sam commanded Bobby to add the "blood of the weakened enemy" (Bobby tossed Dean's blood-soaked bandages from before into the bowl), followed by a handful of ashes and sand. Kratos bellowed with rage and fear, and Castiel threw himself into the god's path.
Meg screeched for help. "Don't let him burn me! Please, I helped you!" she wailed.
Dean struggled across the debris strewn floor on his elbows – he was so weak…
"…and returneth to thy realm of containment!" Sam finished.
Castiel wrestled with Kratos on the linoleum, and the god slashed fiercely with his gold claws extended. Bobby dropped the ivory shavings and tiger tooth into the bowl, followed by a match.
The roof and the floor shook so violently, Sam was positive the home was about to break apart. The thunder outside was deafening, and Bobby believed the sky was about to tear apart.
Kratos screamed and screamed as flames licked his golden body… and he exploded in a wave of ashes and sparks and heat.
The fire in the living room dissipated and Dean grasped Meg's hand, using all the strength he had left to yank her out of the smoldering remains of the devil's trap.
Stunned and relieved silence momentarily settled in every room.
"Hell… hath no fury… like a woman?" Meg panted after a minute or two. "More like… no fury… like a fallen… Greek god scorned."
Dean gulped air. "Amen."
Sam and Bobby put out the fire in the backyard from Castiel's fiery projectile, while the angel tended to Dean and Meg.
Cas hesitated a moment before Meg, who held out her burned arms for him to see.
"You gonna fix my meat suit, or what?" she asked. "I could get a new one, but I've kind of grown attached to this one. She has a great rack." She ran her tongue over her teeth.
The angel clenched his jaw. Technically he had never healed a demon before, and he was loathe to discover how touching one to do so would feel. Still, as irritating as she had been about the whole Kratos incident, Meg had in the end given them the recipe to defeat the god.
"Some time today, Dr. Quinn," Meg snapped impatiently.
Cas steeled himself, then reached out and touched his fingers to Meg's forehead. For a split second, he felt a rush of cold and darkness, anger and pain, emptiness and loneliness; edges that were sharp and serrated…
Then it was all gone in the next instant, as were Meg's burns. The color returned to her cheeks too.
Meg blinked and reeled a little. "Never been touched by an angel before," she commented. "I feel kind of… clean… and invaded." She gagged like she had a bad taste on her tongue and Cas frowned at her.
"Yeah, you get used to it," Dean chuckled and Cas turned his frown on him. Dean waved him off.
The trio headed outside to join Sam and Bobby.
"Well, sugar babies, it's been thrilling," Meg drawled. She looked at each of the boys in turn, her eyes lingering on Cas in an obvious and seductive way.
Dean covered his mouth with his hand to hide his chuckle as Cas eyed her warily.
"Or the opposite of," said Bobby. "You get a free pass this round, sweet cheeks, but you best be on your way. Once a demon, always a demon."
Meg quirked her eyebrow at him, but bowed and bid them goodbye all the same.
"You wanna give me a ride, Feathers?"
"Where?" asked the angel.
"Anywhere but here," replied the demon.
Castiel exhaled heavily through his nose and grasped Meg's arm. The pair disappeared in the blink of an eye.
Bobby placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "You feelin' better?"
Truth be told, he still felt a little off, but Cas' touch had taken away the broken bones, bruises, and blood. "Yeah, I'll live." He flashed the older man a smile.
"Good," said Bobby. He released Dean to hand him a shovel and a hammer. "Then you can help clean up the giant mess you made."
Dean balked and looked to Sam, who had a shovel of his own.
"Hey, I wasn't the one who got cursed by a Greek god," he said with too much amusement for Dean's liking. "And I'm still helping."
"Son of a bitch," Dean grumbled.
-end-
A/n: I figure if Balthasar can rewrite history because he didn't like Titanic, then Kratos could go on a murder rampage because he got his feelings hurt. ;D Thanks for reading!