A/N: Yay! So, here's another chapter. I'm pretty happy with how this story is moving along. Thank you to the new followers and to Annie for leaving a review. Feelin' positive!

Heaven's Grief

I'm in misery where you can seem
as old as your omens.– "The Mother We Share" by CHVRCHES

Chapter Three: Run

I came to hours later, relieved that there was no longer any pain, only comfort. My body was gently being rocked, like I was in a moving car. I could probably have slept more and I seriously considered it, as I buried my face into whatever I had been nestled against this entire time. It was soft and firm, although the material was rough. It smelled familiar and quite nice, like clean linen on a rainy day…

What the hell was that?

It took only moments for it to hit me, as I abruptly sat up. Castiel slowly looked to his shoulder where I was resting and then towards the window I had practically thrown myself against in a frantic attempt to separate us.

The briefest smile touched his lips, as he spoke, "Meg."

"Where are we?" I ignored the affectionate tone he used when saying my name and denied myself the warmth I felt from it. There were questions I wanted to ask him, yet I was finding it difficult to even look him in the eye. I took in our surroundings, deducing that we were on a Greyhound bus somewhere on a highway. Unfortunately, that was still too vague. If Castiel truly had the Angel Tablet, then we were in serious danger, which would be no different from any other day.

"We're on a bus," he said matter-of-factly, a genius of bluntly stating the obvious. I shook my head, "Yes. I can see that we're on a bus, Clarence." Maybe he purposefully avoided telling me. I tried rephrasing, "I meant to say, what state are we in? Where are we going?"

He averted his gaze to the floor, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask me that." There was something notably solemn about his words that gave me chills. I was frightened by what he meant, knowing full well what he was capable of doing and how obstinate he was whenever he believed in something.

My voice was small, failing miserably to remain calm, "What do you mean?" He lifted his face to glare at me accusingly, his eyes the darkest shade of sapphire. I was both terrified and captivated, drawn in like I always was, except now it was more difficult to hide it. It was near impossible to shut it out, even under these conditions.

He was quick in his movements, clasping a hand over my mouth, and shutting his eyes. I knew what he had done by the resounding echo of wings fluttering. The sudden, anomalous speed of travel left me feeling unsteady and nauseated. His arms kept me from falling as he caught me by my waist. It probably wouldn't have done me any good to thank him.

My relief was short-lived when he roughly pinned me to a wall, successfully knocking the wind out of me. He leaned in close, his warm breath reaching my lips. "Demons aren't afforded second chances, Meg." The hard surface threatened to give away from the brute force as he continued pressing me against it with his firm grip on my shoulders. "So, why were you an exception?"

I didn't have that answer. "I don't know why I was brought back. That's why I called on you." I stared up at him, searching his eyes for some form of remorse. I felt cold, realizing that there was none. "If you feel that you can't trust me, then you probably shouldn't. Do whatever you must, even if it means killing me."

"Naomi wouldn't have you so delicate as this..." He trailed thoughtfully to himself. Even if it seemed as though he was rationalizing things in my favor, his fingers were starting to dig into my skin. "Heaven doesn't have anything to gain from your revival."

"Who is Naomi?" The image of a woman flashed in my mind. I'd seen her in my visions. I understood her to be the angel who controlled Castiel. "Wait…I think I know, and I suppose I should be grateful that she hadn't ordered you to kill me." I gave a cynical laugh, almost furious that he had been compromised and vulnerable again. At least the last time that happened, I was watching over him.

"How do you know about that?" I looked at his lips as he spoke. Our mouths were mere inches away from brushing. His closeness, his touch, his voice – everything was distracting. I was being obvious and he knew it as well, yet he did nothing to ease the tension.

I cleared my throat, but my words still came out as a whisper. "There were images or fragments of things, happenings. Some were of you and some were of the Winchesters. Of yours, I knew for sure that you've escaped with the Angel Tablet. I saw Naomi and I know of what you've done while under her control." He suddenly released me as if my skin had burned him. He took a few steps back. "Crowley told me about the Winchester's plan to seal the gates to Hell, but I actually saw Sam undergoing the trails. That's about it."

He tore his eyes away from mine, "It's not possible."

I tried lying in order to place logic. I knew that if Crowley wanted this that he would have already found me. "I'm thinking that maybe Crowley might've-"

"God did this." That was the one response I didn't want to hear. Most of all, because that couldn't have been true either. He was so sure about something he couldn't even conceive of just moments ago.

I had already begun denying his reason, "He wouldn't. I mean, look at my record. It's not exactly sparkling and unmarred. I have killed people; way more good people than bad."

His presaging steps towards me had my heart pounding. "It is God's will. Your existence holds purpose." The intensity in his blue eyes as he looked at me then should have been enough to make me believe, but I couldn't.

When he was standing directly in front me, I stared at the ground. I didn't want to see him, ashamed by what I was about to request. "Look – I don't deserve to be here. I knew that if I begged you that you wouldn't be able to do this task, so I am asking you with the upmost sincerity…"

His voice was low and rough, angry almost. "No."

I sank down to the floor, feeling overwhelmed and defeated. My arms folded over my head, my elbows to my knees, as I started to cry, "Please kill me… Please! Castiel, I can't do this. I can't live like this. I don't want to remember anything. I don't want to feel..." He was at my side, touching the top of my shoulder.

"You've certainly changed," he muttered dryly, dismissing all I had confessed. Even then, I didn't know if I should feel offended by his remark or simply agree.

I wiped at my face, "Well, I'm sorry. I didn't think my wholehearted plea to die would be such an imposition." The surroundings changed, probably from when he touched my shoulder. We were now in what appeared to be a hotel room. "Don't worry your pretty head. I'm sure my wit and sarcasm will be back in no time, Clarence."

"You just need to get back on the wagon." My mouth fell open to respond, when he awkwardly quipped. "It's not a real wagon. It's a metaphor."

I bit out, "Metaphor. Got it."

"What I've learned about humans from being the Winchester's guardian is that they need to eat, shower, and sleep." He extended his skills, disappearing for what could have only been a few minutes, before reappearing with a takeout bag from Biggerson's restaurant. There were two other bags on him. One was a green duffle bag and the other was an ordinary shopping bag.

He placed the food down on the table. "Come and eat."

I did as he asked, unwrapping a cheeseburger. I was starved and I liked the fact that despite Castiel not being human, he knew how to take care of one besides just protecting them. I considered telling him that I was a mortal once before, but I didn't want to get into it. I didn't want to know if he could see every dark corner of my past.

"What happens now that you have the Angel Tablet? You're not just gonna keep it in that obvious green bag are you?" I looked at him skeptically, wondering if that was what he truly intended on doing.

"The bag is a temporary solution." I nodded, somewhat comforted by the thought that my angel hadn't completely lost his marbles. He continued with a sigh, "And as for the time being, we run."

"Well, as luck would have it, I'm quite good at running." I took a long sip of my drink, feeling his eyes burning holes into my skin, even after I finished it. "Castiel…"

"There are some clothes." He gestured towards the shopping bag on the bed. "I know with certainty that they will fit you." This was too much to wrap my head around. Castiel was at a clothing store for women, standing in front of an array of feminine undergarments. I could see him clearly now, hesitantly acquiring assistance for his awkward needs.

I covered a hand over my mouth, hiding my smile. "That was real kind of you."

"No, it wasn't. Anyone would have done the same." His humility was just as fierce and resonated enough to rival that of his faith. I wouldn't argue against something that precious. "I have to go…check on something."

Ever vague, Castiel…

And then he was gone, leaving me here with plenty of food and a new wardrobe.

Curious, I went over and started rummaging through the clothing. I expected to see black leather and tight graphic tees, but there was nothing dark in the bag. There were a couple of long loose fitted shirts, pairs of light colored straight-legged jeans, and a simple plaid jacket. It dawned on me that he must've shopped in the junior department. I pulled out a package of patterned socks, cursing low under my breath. Damn him.

I mentally cringed remembering that he said everything would fit, meaning he knew my exact measurements. The bras and panties were just as decorated as the socks, yet fortunately they were tasteful for a teenager's selection. The last item was a pair of brown combat boots, which in our situation only made sense.

When it was getting late, I felt tired. No sign of Castiel and waiting up seemed pointless without a timeline of when he'd return. I decided to take a shower and stood under the hot water. My body should have been broken and bruised in various places, but I was renewed since having been healed. I guess that was one perk to being human again. My hands moved in a semi familiar ritual, washing and rinsing until I was clean.

I changed into a pair of underwear and one of the shirts, before resigning myself to bed. There was something comfortable about needing to sleep and being able to fall right into it. Since I was half delirious, I easily forgave the set of angel wings printed on the back of the shirt I was wearing.

Maybe I would eventually learn to see the humor.

TBC