Chapter 3 "Bitch bit me!"
Meg didn't go out of her way to smile at Cas anymore.
He could have accepted this, it wasn't the first time he'd messed up a friendship after all, but her behaviour in general disturbed him.
More often now, she was accepting drinks from patrons, getting drunk while working and then leaving with yet another guy at the end of her shift.
"Should we be concerned about this?" Sam questioned Dean one night, after watching her leave, her arm slung over some random guys shoulder, his hand grabbing at her ass.
Dean shrugged.
"It's not affecting her work, I guess we all need to let loose once in a while."
Cas wasn't so sure though.
It seemed to him that the more she drank, the more guys she slept with, the darker her eyes got, until they were almost lifeless, a cruel parody of the shining orbs they'd been when she'd graced him with smiles.
Often, when she thought no one was watching, her smile would slide, leaving her face blank, emotionless, as though all the feelings she worked so hard to hide were now fighting and clawing their way out and all she could do is put up a wall in the hope of quelling them..
He found her once, stood in the bathroom, her face ashy white, tears streaming down her cheeks, but silent.
Her lip didn't quiver, her breath didn't hitch, she simple gripped hold of the edge of the sink and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Cas had slipped away, uncertain of what he could do.
He wanted to say something, ask her what was wrong, ask if he could help, apologise for being rude to her, hurting her feelings.
What surprised him most was he wanted to hold her, wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to his chest, like he might be able to absorb all her hurt and make her smile again.
But he didn't dare.
Could hardly even look at her, let alone touch her.
"Man, she is wasted."
Sam was pulling on his coat as he said this.
Dean had already left and Sam was on his way out the door, leaving Cas to lock up.
"Maybe you should offer her a ride home." Suggested Cas, worried for her.
"Nah, look, she's hooked up with that guy. OK, gotta go, see you tomorrow Cas."
Sam skirted around Meg and headed out the door.
She stumbled against the guy, older that she usually went for, a greasy cap pulled down low over his brow, he put his hand on her in a way that made Cas bristle, but she leaned against him anyway and they left.
Ten minutes later Cas punched in the alarm code, locked the door behind him and trotted up the steps to the street above.
A light dusting of snow had fallen over the evening, but far from looking magical, the streetlights just made the streets look grubby, sick.
A harsh bark of laughter caught his attention.
Across the street was the car park patrons used. There shouldn't have been anyone there now, Cas had to lock the gate to stop people parking there over night.
With a sigh he set off, not looking forwards to having to ask someone to leave.
As he drew nearer he realised that there were three people stood around the last car.
No.
Two standing, one on their knees.
He frowned, slowing his pace, wanting to judge the situation before they noticed him.
It was then that he realised the third person, the one kneeling, was Meg.
He froze to the spot, not sure what to do.
He didn't want to intrude, didn't want her to hate him more than she already did because he might break up her party.
Cas nearly turned away, nearly left.
"Goddamnit!"
The guy with his back to Cas suddenly jumped back, doubling over.
"Bitch bit me!"
Cas could see Meg properly now, saw how ill she looked, noticed she had one hand on the car and the other on the snowy ground, just to stop herself from falling over.
The man she'd bit, drew his hand back and hit her hard, sending her toppling over.
Her eye's met his at that moment, all the dullness was gone from them, they blazed with impotent anger, but instead of fighting back, she just lay still, blood pouring from her nose.
"Hey!" Cas sprinted across the car park to be met by the other man, not the one she'd left with, this guy was younger, thin as a rake.
"This ain't nothing' to do with you buddy…. Back off."
But Cas hardly heard him.
Rage swelled in his chest at the sight of Meg.
She looked so small with the guy towering over her, her bone white hand lifted, catching the blood from her nose shakily, as though she wanted to keep it.
"I said, back….." But his words were lost as Cas's fist connected with his gut, forcing the breath from his lungs, and as he bent at the waist he was met by another blow, undercut, catching him in the jaw and flooring him.
With a roar, the guy with his pants still undone charged Cas, looking to tackle him, knock him off his feet, but instead he was met with a punch, fuelled by years of pent up anger.
She tried hard to focus.
The world seemed to pulsate, it was like her head had been sat on a merry go round for days and days and days and…..
Nausea rose up in her throat.
The thick copper of blood in her mouth.
Bastards.
Bastards.
And Cas.
He fought hard for a lean guy.
Pulling herself to her hands and knees she saw him sat astride the grease ball, pummelling his face into the concrete.
"Cas." She coughed, blood splattering the snow. "Cas. Stop….. Cas."
But he was already at her side, helping her up.
Meg was dimly aware that the two guys were leaving, shouting about bringing their buddies back and wondering why Cas was so worked up about some whore.
She felt his grip around her waist tighten and for a moment she thought he might let go of her, pursue them again, so she gripped at his jacket frantically, frightened of falling.
Oh God…. Her head.
"I'm gonna puke….."
His hands were already holding her, pulling her hair away from her face as she threw up into the hedges, vomit and blood.
"Easy, easy. I got ya…"
Cas was soothing her, like he'd flipped some switch in his head from bad ass street fighter to compassionate saviour.
"I'm not drunk…" She coughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand shakily. "Not this bad. Fuckers…. They roofied me…."
Her legs went and Cas had to grip her hard to stop her falling forwards.
"I should take you to a hospital, call the police…"
"No!" She almost screamed it, then took a deep breath. "Please. Cas. I just wanna go home. Take me home."
He hesitated, but only for a split second, and then he was bundling her into his car and pulling out onto the street.
He managed, finally to get her to tell him, coherently, where she lived, and somehow managed to help her up the three flights of stairs to her apartment.
As he fumbled with her keys, propping her against the wall with his hip, the door across the hall opened a crack and the pursed lipped face of a sallow faced old woman peered out.
"She's disease." She spat, making the sign of the cross before slamming the door.
Nice.
"Ok, come on. Ups a daisy….." He half carried, half dragged meg through the door, kicking it shut with his foot and searching for a light switch.
When he finally found it the lit apartment made him stop in his tracks.
Apart from a bed and a ratty looking arm chair, there was nothing in it.
No shelves, no cupboards, no TV, nothing.
It was like no one lived there.
Meg began to drag heavy in his arms, so he walked through into the main room and carefully lifted her onto the bed.
"Meg? Hey, Meg. Do you want to clean up?"
She shook her head and rolled over heavily.
He paused, then bent down and took her shoes off.
"You should change your top. There's blood all over it."
She didn't answer, so he looked around the room and saw an open suitcase. There was no wardrobe or drawers, so he took a shirt from the case and went back to the bed, sitting next to her and pulling her up to a semi sitting position.
"Meg. You're going to have to help me." He tugged at the back of her shirt and managed to drag it over her head. Taking the shirt over to the sink on the other side of the room, he dampened a clean corner of it and brought it back.
Gently he wiped at the blood that had crusted around her nose and mouth.
She sighed, her eyes far off and glassy.
"I wish you'd let me take you to hospital."
Meg swatted at his hand, gripping his wrist. "No. I just….. Need to sleep."
She started to slide down the bed but he pulled her forwards again.
"Raise your arms."
Meg managed to lift them about six inches, and Cas struggled the clean shirt on to her, then let her lay down again.
For a moment he stood watching her, then he carefully worked the covers from under her and tucked her in.
He couldn't just leave her .
Not if she really had been slipped Rohypnol.
Cas pulled the armchair over to the side of the bed and sat.
He'd watch her tonight, make sure she was ok.
He owed her that much.
Music for this chapter up on the youtube page (link on profile) x