A/N: Yay, Plot! Yay, Thorn!

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Advent - December 9th

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Thorn slams the door to his throne room open and strides through. A poor minion trails after him but he's too far into his rage to properly care who or what. All he can see is red and he's going to get this off his chest because there has been a fuck-up of major proportions and somebody is going to pay.

He has a feeling that, in the end, it might be him. And if that's the case then he's going to bitch and rant to all his apparently useless minions right here and now so when he does die in a fiery ball of hellfire and his father's rage, he'll go out knowing that his people know full and well how unimpressed he is with how they've managed the situation.

Because there is a situation.

There's a big fucking situation.

He gets to his throne with its pretty good replication of tortured gargoyles and what the fuck had he been thinking when he created this? But now is not the time to muse on rebellious teenage angst throne creations.

He spins and starts to pace in front of his seat in long-legged strides. Hands clenching into fists at his sides because he's imagining strangling every last one of his minions. And then all the future minions he's going to recruit so they know not to fuck up this badly right from the fucking start.

"Oh," he snaps, "like that wasn't enough. No, of course it wasn't enough that Azazel's been avoiding us for decades – and we're not even going to get into how you people managed to fuck up his capture and removal so many times – what did you think he was on holiday for thirty years? Just taking a quick jaunt to see the fucking sights?"

He doesn't think he's ever been so pissed off before.

That he can remember.

Sober.

He can practically taste the italics in the conversation. One-sided rant. Whatever.

"But no, it's not enough, and it's definitely not enough that Azazel then feeds his blood to humans to give them fucking demon powers and how did we miss that?"

He whirls on his cowering minion who is holding up a clip-board in front of his face as if it will protect him. Thorn can only see red and he has no idea what he looks like right now, but he definitely doesn't feel human.

"But that isn't the worse!" He continues with a smile because every sarcastic and possibly explosive conversation needs to be had whilst wearing a smile. It doesn't matter if it's the most terrifying smile in existence because that just adds to the ambiance of the sheer clusterfuck that has become his last year and a half, "Because not only did we not manage to contain that situation – and possibly get some new recruits for the Hellchasers – but it blew up in our fucking faces."

Thorn pauses when he realises that he's hyperventilating and takes a few calming breaths.

They don't work, so he ends up pacing again.

He thinks it's a test to his character that he's not pulling at his hair.

"No," he says, eyes wide until they're showing the white, "no, someone – some moron – thinks it's a great idea to open the Hell Gate. And it's not just any moron, it's one of the demon babies that we didn't even know about."

"The Hell Gate." He repeats because he thinks it needs repeating. It doesn't seem enough so he brings his hands up and mimes strangling whatever bastard opened the fucking door in the first place. "The. Hell. Gate."

Thorn rubs his hand across his mouth. "Do you know how long it took to lock that place down? Fifteen years, that's how long. Fifteen fucking years of working with that ornery bastard, Colt, and all that iron and for what?

"For what? The only good thing that came out of that is Azazel is now dead." He adds in an aside.

Thorn takes a deep breath and goes to sit in his fugly chair. He rubs at his temples, trying to make the migraine he's had for the past two months disappear.

It doesn't work so he conjures up a bottle of the strongest drink he can think of and takes a swig.

Screw being elegant with repose and a side of bad-assery. Those days were over when he realised what the fuck was going on and how everything he'd fought against had ganged up and slipped the rug from under his feet.

Fuck it.

He takes another longer drink and shotguns half the bottle.

If a minion doesn't respect him as much after all this is over then he'll just kill them and have it done with.

He's feeling a lot calmer after that.

"Apparently nothing," he answers his previous question, "because then Lilith shows up."

Wow, that calm didn't last long at all.

"So then we had Lilith fucking around up there, and did we stop her? No! Because apparently that's not what Hellchasers do anymore!

"There should be a memo." He points at the minion who looks like he really, really doesn't want to be here and doesn't expect to live for very much longer, "You. Send out a memo reading: I would like to remind the Hellchasers that their job is to catch and or kill fucking escaped demons and if they would kindly do their fucking jobs then clusterfucks of this fucking magnitude won't happen."

He takes a long, deep breath through his nose. "But it doesn't even matter about Lilith anymore. Because as soon as we got our heads out of our asses and went to do something about her, we find that she's already dead.

"Dead!

"And we have no clue who killed her, or why, or how, which means that her little pet Alistair is going to be angry and completely uncontrollable now and oh roasting pits of fire I hope he does not get out because if he does then we are so totally fucked it's unfunny.

"And, and, now that smarmy bastard Crowley has taken over the throne and is acting like he's the king of hell or something, and there's a whole lot of demons swarming about on the surface that we're not even making a dent in.

"Okay, new plan. I want to know what the fuck they're doing and what they're looking for and why. Hellchasers can kill as many of the bastards as they want but I want this information and I want it last year. Got that?

He gives up and runs a hand through his hair.

"Do you even know what this means?" He asks plaintively, half-drunk bottle drooping between his fingers, "Do you know what this could possibly add up to?

"No, you don't, because you're just a minion and you don't know anything. I've spent millennia making sure that my father has stayed locked in his little cage. Making sure that I've done whatever the fuck I could to upset his little plans and everything, everything, is falling apart at the seams.

"There is no possible way that this day could get any worse."

The sight of his minion wincing has him freezing and sitting up straight.

"What?"

The man swallows and licks his lips, refusing to meet Thorn's eyes. "Um…"

Thorn grits his teeth. "What."

The man glances at him and says, "The angels are walking the earth." Really, really fast.

Thorn takes a few moments to separate the sentence out into working words. Then he takes another few moments to rerun said sentence through his head to give it the opportunity to change.

It doesn't.

Thorn lets out a yell that gets progressively louder and throws the bottle across the room. It explodes mid-air sending shards of glass everywhere.

His minion finally gives up and makes a break for the door, leaving Thorn alone to rage.

###

Ruby is twitching slightly in her bindings.

Meg smirks as she circles the chair, her fingers trailing up Ruby's arm, across the back of her neck and to her other shoulder.

Ruby makes a pathetic whispering sound in the back of her throat and Meg's smile falls.

This pathetic bitch was Lilith's trusted second?

This was what they'd been left with?

Meg whirls around until she's facing Ruby. It doesn't do much good because Ruby's dropped her head and has her eyes closed, breathing heavily through her mouth.

Geez, demons these days, can't handle torture. A little bit of pain and they're jumping out of their meat suits like it's the titanic.

Meg was of the generation that believed in pain. And that if you couldn't handle being thrown off the top of a building then you didn't deserve being called a demon.

Her father trained her well.

Ruby, however, was always too human for Meg's likes. True, that was because she used to be human, before she sold her soul. Not like Meg, Meg was born a demon.

But that's beside the point right now.

Meg crosses her arms across her chest and starts to tap her foot. "You know," she says conversationally, "I had high hopes for you."

Ruby whimpers again and it just pisses Meg off even more.

Meg smiles and crouches down in front of the hurt demon. Gently tipping up her chin so she can look Ruby in the eye.

"I mean," Meg says softly, "I admired Lilith, we all admired Lilith.

"A bit brazen, a bit gung-ho. Nothing like the subtlety of my father. But…well, we can't all be him now, can we?"

Ruby breathes in short, sharp bursts.

"But," Meg continues, "I admired her. She took her place and kept it. Despite everything. Despite Lucifer's capture. The Queen of the Crossroads. You don't get any higher than that and the fact that she managed to keep that for so long…well."

"W-what-" Ruby chokes out.

"But you," Meg says, standing suddenly and letting Ruby's chin drop, "you I was always wary about. Now, don't get me wrong, you're loyal to a fault. But you were always too human for me."

Meg sighs and looks at Ruby in disappointment.

"I don't think you ever got the fine details of what it is to be demon."

Meg starts to circle Ruby's chair again. Ruby tries to follow her, looking absolutely terrified for once.

Meg inwardly congratulates herself. She leans down until her mouth is right next to Ruby's ear and something dark squirms in her stomach when Ruby's breathing picks up.

"But that isn't what I wanted to talk to you about." Meg says.

Ruby flinches and swallows. "W-what…"

Meg moves back around until she's facing Ruby again.

"I want to know who has Dean Winchester's soul."

"I-I don't-" Ruby starts and is cut of sharply by a painful backhand.

"Don't." Meg says, and then smiles a tight smile. "Don't lie to me Ruby. Not here, not now."

Ruby's trembling and Meg crouches down, shushing her and stroking the red mark imprinted on Ruby's cheek.

"Now, now. It's okay. You've learnt your lesson. Just tell me. I know you were there, watching your master. I know you saw what happened to her." Meg brushes away a tear that runs down Ruby's cheek.

"I know how painful it can be to watch something you love die."

Ruby lets out a breath that sounds like a sob and Meg hates her just a little bit more for it.

"There, there." She coos.

"Artemis." Ruby croaks out.

Meg freezes. She must have heard that wrong – she had to have heard that wrong – but Ruby is still mumbling the name over and over again as if it will protect her from what Meg is about to do.

"Artemis. Greek goddess of the Hunt."

Ruby nods and just doesn't stop, her head bobbing, eyes staring at her lap again.

Meg looks at her with disgust for a moment. Then she stands and thinks.

Artemis and…hunters. Oh, she should have seen this years ago.

If Artemis has gotten involved then that means Dean Winchester is now a Dark Hunter and Meg can't just kill him straight off because then his soul will forever be lost to limbo.

And while that is a nice thought, it's not good enough for what he's done to her. It's not good enough for what he's done to her father and her brother.

Meg wants more than just the knowledge that he's in pain for eternity. She wants to be the one who shoves her hands into his guts until she's buried elbow deep in his screams.

If Meg wants revenge, and oh does she, then she's going to have to get Dean's soul back into him before she kills him.

It's a good thing she knows all about Dark Hunters and how they work, thank you Ias.

She pats Ruby absentmindedly on the head as she starts to plan out how this is going to go down.

Demons aren't allowed to possess the bodies of anything belonging to another pantheon. It's against the 'rules'. Humans, of course, are fair game. But that won't help her in this case. If she wants to get Dean's soul then she's going to have to get to Olympus and take it.

Good thing she's never really cared about the rules.

She glances down at Ruby to see Ruby staring at her.

Meg smiles. "You've done well. How would you like to work for me? I can't think too many demons are pleased with you for sending them back down here." Meg motions around them. "Even if it was all part of the plan."

Ruby smiles hesitantly.

"Good," Meg says, and then motions behind her. Alistair steps out of the shadows and Ruby's face pales and she begins to scream and struggle against her bindings.

Meg ignores Ruby and steps up to Alistair, stroking across his chest. He stares down at her.

"We have a new recruit to the cause." Meg says, "Unfortunately her last master kept her soft." Meg's eyes harden as they meet Alistair's. "I have no room for a soft soldier."

Alistair smiles slowly and Meg pats him lightly.

"I'll leave you to it then."

Meg leaves and walks through the tunnels that have been mined deep into the bedrock of Hell itself.

Ruby's screams echo after her.

###

Meg doesn't have far to look. She finds a cluster of Nymphs in Italy enjoying the sun.

They're completely unprepared for her to attack their little group. Thinking themselves so safe because they're not human.

Meg scoffs at them as she runs her hands over her new body.

It's nice. Nicer than a human. And immortal, which is a nice bonus at the moment.

The other nymphs had scattered when the black cloud that is her demon form had boiled up from the ground. This nymph wasn't fast enough.

However, Meg isn't so cocky as to think that the Greek pantheon isn't going to be alerted as soon as possible.

Luckily, Meg's a demon and can appear anywhere she wants, rather than having to go the long way like the other quasi-immortals.

She rips through the mind of the nymph and takes the destination from her memories.

Lucky, the nymph is known to Artemis' handmaidens. This will make everything easier.

With a blink of her eyes, Meg is standing in the streets of Olympus.

The self-gratifying grandeur of the temples makes her nauseous.

If she could, she'd burn this place to the ground and watch these pathetic creatures run and panic below her.

But she can't. She has absolutely no delusions about her power level or who she's fucking with at the moment.

Speaking of, she doesn't have long left before the alarm is raised.

With single-minded purpose she enters Artemis' temple. There is only one handmaiden waiting in the receiving room. The rest of them must be outside in the fields. Meg knows that this is where they like to stay when Artemis isn't at home, because that's where this nymph usually hangs out with them.

The handmaiden looks up and graces Meg with a smile.

"I did not think we would be seeing you quite so soon-" she starts to say, before Meg slashes her throat open with her blade.

The handmaiden chokes and sinks to her knees, her eyes staring like she can't believe what Meg's just done.

Meg smiles and allows her eyes to turn black. "Night night." She says, enjoying the way the handmaiden's eyes widen in fear in her last few moments of life.

Meg takes a moment to admire the steadily spreading pool of red against the white marble, then she focuses on finding the soul.

She knows what Dean feels like, she's been with the brothers enough to have them memorised. But even so it takes a while for her to pick up the trace of him.

But she does.

Meg flashes her way to it and ends up in a bedroom decorated in red satin and drapes.

Dear Lucifer, do these people have no taste at all?

Dean's soul is in a basket of other souls. Meg has to seriously restrain herself but Dean is the one she's come here for, so she reaches in and plucks him from his brothers.

Her hand hums and grows warm where it touches the soul but Meg's a demon in a nymph's body and not at all restricted like a human would be.

She wants to laugh at how easy it all is and, because she can't think of a reason not too, she does.

This is the exact moment a furious Artemis appears, screams and throws a god-bolt at her. But Meg's been expecting this and disappears back to Hell without much more than a thought.

Revenge will be hers.

###

Sam's been acting a lot better around Ash, and Dean thinks this is partly the reason Ash is hanging out with them more.

It could be to train him, Dean supposes. But, other than telling him that Dean has some sort of power-sensing power on top of the other two, he hasn't really done very much.

There's probably a reason, but Dean can't work it out, and he doesn't really want to if he thinks on it. He's happy learning on his own. It's how he was taught to hunt and Dean has the feeling Ash knows that and is helping him along in the only way he knows how.

Or Dean might be reading way too much into that situation.

Dean's teasing Sam, who's pouting pretty hard, about his nerdy habits when Ash says, laughing "You know, one of these day's these things are going to catch up with you and you'll regret ever teasing your brother."

"Yeah," Sam says, raising his chin and crossing his arms, "exactly."

Dean rolls his eyes and gets back to teasing both of them for that because he's the older brother, and that's what he does.

He probably should have taken Ash's warning to heart though, because not a minute later there's a crackling and a freaking hole appears in the middle of the street and twelve daimons step through, lining up like they're in some sort of army parade.

"Strati." Ash murmurs beside him.

Dean thinks that tonight is not going to get any better.

Actually, he's sure that it's going to get a lot worse.