A/N: Second to last chapter! I'm very sorry for the late update. This is the last piece of Meg's past and I warn you that it's pretty disturbing. There is also sex in this chapter. Quite a bit of it and I am rusty. Bear this in mind while reading.

-

Don't care if he's guilty, don't care if he's not.
He's good and he's bad and he's all that I've got. – "Devil's Backbone" by The Civil Wars

Chapter Six: Oh, Lord

Human beings shouldn't need to sleep this much. I couldn't take much more of this incessant need to close my eyes and keep them that way. I knew what was waiting for me should I indulge myself. I'd rather remember those I tortured just for fun. It used to be somewhat of a symphony; the cries and the shrilling from countless men, women, even children, just because I could.

Because I was unstoppable.

Because Hell gave me something real to believe in.

And after having my way with the living…Once I realized that I was good at my craft and that my hunger for more could not be sated, I started torturing the damned. I would put them on the rack and slice away at their souls, until they were in shreds. How many men and women I had turned away from their ever dwindling humanity was countless. It used to bring me such pleasure watching their memories and feelings fade like the dimming flame of a candle, as I would act as that one last breath to blow them out.

Somehow, along that very same path, I had forgotten everything about myself and I did as I was told, like a good obedient whore. I accepted what I was given and I never questioned a single command. Now I knew why I was so resentful towards the Winchesters, the brothers who still had each other. Their fierce loyalty and seemingly reckless sacrifices to save one another was so magnanimous of them and I was envious of it.

Then again I'd always had a soft spot for family.

The smell of burning wood was heavy in the air, nearly suffocating me. My eyes fought to stay open as they watered up in irritation and the back of my throat itched. Searching for the source, I turned in every direction, but there wasn't a fire and I couldn't see any signs of smoke. My chest heaved for clean intakes of breath, as I made an attempt to escape from the scorching heat at my legs. I pressed my back against a nearby tree to stable myself and grew worried over the fact that there shouldn't have been a tree there at all, as they should have all burned down.

When I opened my eyes against the sudden intense pain, I wasn't alone. My mother and sisters were strapped in a row to trees beside mine. All who remained from our once peaceful town were here to watch as they had done all those decades ago. I struggled against the thick layers of rope, but it was no use. Not a single detail was out of place. It was the same as before. My family was shaking, deliriously sobbing from having been overcome with fear. I could hear my mother as she begged for our lives. She didn't understand why we were at fault, remaining innocent in the eyes of God and myself.

'Witches', I could hear them muttering, 'Satanists'.

"It takes one to know one," I said as I roamed eyes over the familiar faces, yet not a single person was recognizable to me, at least not anymore. Not after these grisly affairs. Timothy Grey, the one who was in charge of holding the execution, stepped closer to me. Our eyes briefly met before the back of his hand came down hard against the side of my face. He seemed satisfied when Jane's high-pitched screaming filled the silence and Sarah pleaded for him to stop. Another heavy blow caused me to grunt in discomfort, tasting the coppery tang of blood.

"Hold your tongue, Witch." He cast me a glare before he turned back towards the crowd, "Megan used witchcraft to perform necromancy, a curse that only Satan himself could endow should she accept him into her heart." I threw my head back in laughter, in spite of the pain that felt unmistakably real or the sweat on my brow, the blood touching my tongue as it soothed the cut in my mouth. "You idiots burn us and I come back with my new family, taking out the entire town and swallowing it into the depths of Hell."

Gasps resounded like music to my ears, as their malicious expressions dropped into ones that were now filled with traces of fear and doubt. My eyes burned through them knowingly. Timothy didn't appear to be convinced by what had become of their fate just months after this occurred, "Do not listen when the devil speaks for all she says are lies."

"Megan?" I looked at my mother upon hearing her shaking voice. The faint glow of the torches revealed a new look of terror on her face and finally the tears fell in lines down my cheeks. Back then I didn't have enough sense to say anything. I never admitted that this was my fault. I didn't want them to look at me the way they were right now. Just like those who damned us, I was no different in their eyes.

"The fire shall cleanse you of your sins." Timothy's words were the final vow before death, as he was handed a torch. He started with Sarah and then Jane, making sure that he stared at them directly as he lit the hay at their feet. My mother fought against her bindings, "No, no, no! Please! They're just children!"

He incinerated the hay beneath my mother and finished with me. The straw burned quick and it wasn't long before Sarah was screaming in agony. The fire caught onto her stockings, crawling and inching further up along her body. I could see Azazel moving through the crowd with all the fluidity of a snake. He was wearing the priest as his vessel. His yellow eyes glowed with the fire reflecting in them with an amused look of I told you so.

"Mother," I managed to breathe out through short gasps, the smoke filling my lungs with every inhale. The painful sounds of Jane wailing and Sarah screaming were enough to drown out my voice, but I had to try anyway. She kept her eyes on my sisters, trying to reassure them, and tell them that she loved them. "I'm sorry." It felt like I was screaming without making a sound. My voice hitched between sobs. "Jane, Sarah…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry...it was my fault."

The fire crackled and popped, and the screaming soon came to an end as it consumed my siblings one by one. My mother continued to cry out until her throat was raw, even as the flames seared her skin. The tears weren't caused by the affliction, but the loss. I knew that I couldn't take much more of this, the heat overwhelming me as my eyes continued to fall shut.

"Meg."

My eyes snapped open upon hearing the familiar voice. A celestial unicorn was in my dream and that couldn't be right. He gently touched his cool fingers to my forehead and the surroundings all washed away within that instant. There was a warm light where we were, but I was unable to focus on it. I felt weightless in his arms, as he carried me down a hallway that seemed to go on forever. We came to a halt in front of a door that opened without him having to touch it.

He carefully laid me onto the bed that was there. I couldn't stop to think that any other time and this sort of thing would have seemed ridiculous and romantically ideal.

I turned so that my back was faced towards him. I wasn't confident that I could keep myself together. Although I hadn't suffered any real physical injuries, I couldn't say the same for my mental stability. The saddest part about it was that I'd make that same deal again. I would fall for it. There would never be a lifetime where I wouldn't want to save them at the cost of my soul.

Castiel remained quiet, which made this whole concealing my emotions thing more difficult. I wanted to cry, but that wouldn't happen with him here. I couldn't break in front of him, although it was probably more than obvious to the angel. In any case, he gave me no indication on whether it was true or not.

"Thank you," I decided to put an end to the silence, as I sat up against the headboard. "You've saved me what, like twice now since I've been human?"

"That was your family." Of course he would go straight for the obvious. His eyes pinned me in place and it felt impossible to avoid telling him the truth.

"My mother and my two sisters, Jane and Sarah," I said, while averting my attention to my hands that had yet to stop shaking. "They died, so I made a deal. They came back when it was obvious that they couldn't have survived, but somehow they did. The town declared that it was witchcraft and had us burned." My eyes met his hurt expression and it was almost painful, being pitied by Castiel. The smile I gave him wavered, "When this life ends for me, I mean if I continue to be good, do you think your god would let me see them again?"

I waited to hear something along the lines of, 'God is merciful', but he didn't say a word. He just continued to look guilty. "Gee, Clarence. Just when I was in the mood for some garbled religious bullshit…"

He pressed a hand to his lower abdomen, "I don't know, Meg." I could see his fingers digging into the fabric, as if he were applying pressure to a wound. "I want to say yes, but lately with how Heaven has been…" I slowly moved from my spot on the bed and started walking closer to him. "…who knows?"

"Well, I was hoping you might, but I guess not." I was quick to reach for his shirt, when he backed himself further against the hard surface behind him. "What happened while you were gone? You haven't even apologized for being late." I tried for it again, having my wrist caught in the process with what took little to no effort on his part.

"I lost the Angel Tablet to Crowley, who by the way has a new weapon against angels." Within seconds, our positions were reversed so that my back was pressed to the door. He leaned in close enough for me to feel his breath reaching my skin. "The bullet Crowley shot me with was made from Angel Blade and I used it to kill one of my brothers. I barely managed to escape onto the road when Sam and Dean found me. Perhaps now isn't the time to question my lack of propriety."

Ironically, the only suitable response to that would have been an apology that he wouldn't want to hear anyway, especially now. So, I kept it to myself. It was just like Crowley to find an inventive way to kill angels without having to confront them with a blade. The thought of the tablet being in Crowley's hands wasn't so intimidating once you've considered the fact that he had no way of reading it.

"I'm so tired of not being able to do anything," I whispered in a hushed tone, keeping my eyes on his clear blue ones. The mood was so tense, so impossibly suffocating that words were hard to speak and thoughts were difficult to form or digest. Whenever Castiel failed in a specific mission, a person, or even himself his first natural instinct was to seek penance. But he wasn't able to this time and it had to be killing him, being unable to fix his mistakes.

My hands went to his waist and he didn't make a move to stop me this time, as I tugged his shirt free from his pants. He was brought forward a few steps in the process, hovering over me. I wanted to touch him. My fingers worked over the buttons of his shirt, slow in my actions going from the top of his collar down across his chest, then past his stomach until it was done. I wanted to see for myself. I felt his skin beneath the layers of clothing and slid them down over his arms, dropping them to the floor.

This went beyond what I may have thought I needed, craved for, or even deserved. It was an invisible string that kept me tied to him, like a magnetic pull that steadily reeled me in closer. There was always something terrifying about wanting him, and wanting this, because I could never truly understand what made the angel so enigmatic back then, or even now.

I could see the reddish purple bruise where the wound had closed and was still slowly healing. His breath hitched when my nails softly skimmed over the skin there, finding it difficult to stop. I leaned my head down and pressed a tender kiss against it, gauging his reaction with every light brush of my lips, before using my tongue. He flinched at the odd sensation, losing whatever bit of patience he had left. I felt his fingers close in my hair before he dragged me up to his mouth and kissed me hungrily, finally relenting in his restraint.

I leaned against him immediately and slid my hands over his sides to help steady myself. Only one of us needed air to breathe, it was something he seemed to forget, leaving me gasping between each pull of his lips. I felt his fingers run along the length of my back, inching my shirt up gradually with every touch until he removed it entirely.

He tilted my face up between his thumb and forefinger, as he leaned down for another kiss. My eyes fell shut against how soft and how perfectly attentive he was to every detail. I hummed a moan at the feeling of his tongue filling my mouth, tracing every corner and moving in languid strokes over mine. I was lost to him, losing what little control I thought I had over the situation. He grabbed the back of my legs and lifted me so that my arms and legs hugged around him securely, as he brought us over by the bed.

We remained connected by our mouths and limbs, as he pressed me into the mattress with the firm weight of his body, able to feel his skin against mine, warm and smooth. He grazed his short nails up across the length of my arm, fingering the straps of my bra until it fell loose over my shoulder, where his mouth soon followed in a hot trail across my chest. He used his lips and teeth to meticulously graze and mark my skin that seemed to make the angel feel proud.

I arched against his mouth, able to feel the heat from his mouth through the cup of my bra, as he soaked through the flimsy material with strong incessant flicks of his tongue. I moaned softly in response, feeling a dull ache starting to form in my lower stomach. He slid a hand to the clasp of my bra, undoing it with ease as he pulled it from my arms. My skin flushed under his dark blue gaze as he took in every inch of skin with scrutiny.

"Are you just going to stare at me?" My eyes were probably defying the confidence I had so brazenly spoken with. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "No." He looked at me seriously then and it gave me chills. "There's a lot more that I intend on doing to you."

Castiel's words were as good as a promise, as he demonstrated firsthand what he had in mind. I writhed beneath him, as he pressed his palms over my breasts, kneading them with coarse and needy touches, before closing his mouth down onto the raised skin. I muffled my moans into the back of my hand, feeling him sucking and flicking his tongue in circles over each breast, occasionally nipping and pinching the skin with his teeth.

It was the perfect line between sharp pain and pleasurable. He released my skin with a loud 'pop' and continued to cascade open mouthed kisses in a tantalizingly slow and hot trail over my stomach. I held in a breath, my body tensing with anticipation of each brush of his lips. The kisses were unpredictable and warm, melting me through. He reached the top of my jeans. It was an obstruction to him that he instantly rid me of, along with my boyshorts.

The wonderful thing about being a demon was that I was able to be whoever I wanted. It was easy to be the beautiful girl with a perfect body. Honestly, I couldn't remember a time when I had felt more exposed and self-conscious than this moment.

He spread my thighs with his hands, using them as leverage to bring me closer to him. It took everything in me not to cry out against the feel of his hot breath ghosting over my damp skin. My leg twitched, as his tongue gave an experimental flick, the ache in my lower stomach intensified. When nothing happened after what felt like forever, I opened my eyes to catch him staring directly at me.

"Don't close your eyes," he said low and somehow huskier, changing when I had barely touched him. I tried my best to do as he asked although I had a feeling it wasn't a request. There was something hungry about the way he kept looking at me, dark and captivating. It unsettled me to be aroused at seeing him this way.

Thoughts were erased from my mind the moment he closed his mouth down hard against me. The breath was driven from my lungs leaving me gasping as he trailed the flat surface of his tongue from my opening to my clit, repeating this several times, tasting my arousal with every lap over my flesh. I felt his nails press into my skin, as he pinned my hips to the mattress, keeping me from squirming and shaking as my senses overloaded.

I licked my lips, watching as he moved a hand down between my thighs, sinking a finger in deep to his knuckle, before switching to the velvet thrusts of his tongue, freely tearing gasps and sighs of pleasure from me. I wound my hands into the sheets, tugging at them when he pushes in another finger, curling them in rhythm with his tongue that was rubbed and flicked over my clit in expert strokes, bringing me close to the edge of pure bliss.

The angel abruptly stopped in his ministrations to settle his body back between my thighs and started kissing my frustrations away. I moved my fingers up and down the curve of his back and reveled in how good he felt beneath my hands. He pressed himself against me in response, allowing me to feel his hardened length with every slight rock of his hips. I moaned into his mouth, consumed with every rough pull of his teeth and suckle of his lips.

He held me close by the front of my neck, brushing his thumb over my pulse in a possessive manner. "Castiel, please…" I whimpered, feeling the rough material of his slacks brush over my sensitive skin. Pretty soon it would be enough to finish me off. "Oh, God…"

"God is merciful." Well, there it was, except there was no room for comedy. Not with what he was currently doing to me. He teased his words over my mouth, as he murmured darkly, "I'm not."

I believed him – unequivocally, with every part of my being. He stilled in his movements, watching as my hands worked at removing his pants, getting the belt open, the button undone, and the zipper down. I was quick and thorough, as I moved my hands beneath his briefs and lowered them over his thighs. He kicked them off the rest of the way, and assumed control. I could tell myself later that I permitted it, when I knew that it wasn't true.

He pressed the tip of his cock back and forth against me, rubbing slowly as he coated himself with my arousal. The friction was serving to kill me, moaning and lifting my hips for more. It was too much, even for him. I could see that he was suffering just as much as I was, as he dug his fingers into my hip to position himself at my entrance and slammed forward, filling me to the hilt. The rough action caused me to scream out in pleasured pain.

The pace was slow at first as he allowed me time to adjust around his thick length. I felt stretched beyond my limit and so incredibly full. He withdrew his hips all the way before driving into me harder and deeper, going as deeply as possible. The smacking of our skin meeting on impact, the gasps and heady sounds replaced the silence in the room.

He gasped audibly, as he continued to ride me further up the bed with every thrust. I slid my fingers through his hair and pulled him close for a kiss that he was more than willing to abide by. I hummed a moan as he parted my lips with his tongue and thrust it inside my mouth, as if to mimic the work of his hips.

The raw desire in his eyes when he pulled back to look at me was something new, something that couldn't be placed. Our mouths softly brushed, slowing as we stared at each other, when my mouth fell opened into a pleasured sigh. The rhythm changed – quicker, harder as his hands firmly grabbed my hips, forming bruises and pink welts across my pale skin.

I felt encouraged by his low guttural sounds when he began to forcefully pound into me. I gasped at the new fast pace and angle of his hips, being stroked in all the right places. He licked the back of his thumb before he brought it down between my thighs, rubbing me in rapid hard circles. I arched against him as he came forward, feeling each wave of pleasure growing and winding in the pit of my stomach, as I came in a stream of gasps and moans. I murmured his name like a prayer over and over again until it was no longer coherent.

It didn't take long for him to succumb to my body rippling and clenching around him like a pulse. He moaned low in the back of his throat at the pleasure, his jaw set visibly. I leaned my head up to tease my mouth over his neck, sucking the skin in sharply. He thrust hard and deep one last time before losing control and releasing into me. I could feel his harsh breaths hot against my shoulder, as he caught himself with his hands.

My heart raced beneath my chest, feeling contented and complete. But he didn't stop, as he slowly moved in a steady rhythm, causing me to moan softly in response to his tempting and skillful touches. My skin was tingling, feeling him roughly drag his hand up and down over my slick body, lightly scratching and pressing his nails into my skin. My mouth parted against his, finding myself sinking into the passionate kiss.

Angels didn't require sleep and he didn't seem to be running low on stamina.

-
TBC