Chapter 13- "She wasn't mine."
"Son of a bitch!" Dean threw his phone on the bed in frustration.
Cas was sat with his back to Dean, his hands clasped in his lap. "Still no reception?"
"We're never coming back to this shitty place again." He growled, snatching up his coat and heading for the door. "I'm gonna see if I can find a pay phone and give Sam a call, make sure everything's alright at home. You need anything?"
He shook his head.
All he wanted to do was get some sleep.
When Dean left, Cas took his shoes off and lay atop the covers, the tv playing quietly in the background, some dumb game show with an irritating soundtrack and forced audience laughter.
It jarred at his nerves but he didn't get up to turn it off.
He was exhausted.
Dean had tried to talk to him, about why Naomi had lied, but he couldn't concentrate, couldn't focus on anything but the thought of that small, sad grave marker.
She'd not been a mother to him.
They'd never baked cookies or finger painted or gone to the park.
He had danced with her in the desert, and on more on one occasion stayed up all night while she danced and laughed to herself, the syrupy feelings of confused love seemingly seeping from her pores.
He took his love from her where he could find it, but she had withdrawn it completely when they were with the Brotherhood.
So why did it upset him so much?
The death of a woman who'd tried to abort him, (she'd shared that gem with him when he was three) who'd left him alone, who'd handed him over to strangers to rear with rods and bible quotes.
She'd left him to live a life she didn't have to think about.
If he closed his eyes he could still remember the feel of her hair twined around his small fingers. The smell of lavender and cigarette smoke and that underlying sweetness that seemed to be the scent of her life.
It was hard to twin that memory with the woman he'd sometimes seen at the compound.
Meg had called herself broken, but his Mother?
She had been shattered beyond repair.
The jerk at the front desk had refused to let him use the phone, so Dean had walked a mile and a half to the gas station to use the payphone there.
After buying snacks and asking for his change in quarters, he went over the phone and dialled the bar.
Sam snatched it up after only one ring.
"Dean! Man! Did you get my messages?"
"No. There's no reception, I had to practically hike into the wilderness to find this payphone."
"Thank God you called!"
"Slow down Sammy, what's wrong? I've been gone les than a day, please tell me you didn't break my bar."
"Dean listen. It's Meg. She's gone."
As Sam unlocked the door Bobby walked in.
"Were you… waiting?" Sam raised an eyebrow as Bobby stalked past and sat himself at the bar.
"Whiskey. Double."
"You're the boss." Sam wandered back behind the bar and poured the drink, sliding it over to him.
He knocked it back quick and held it up for another.
"You, ah… Ok there Bobby?"
He knocked back the second then took a deep breath.
"Meg in yet?"
"No. You're officially early, she'll be here in a few minutes though. Why?"
Bobby took the card from his pocket and handed it to Sam.
"This guy came into O'Leary's place, asked a lot of questions about whether I'd seen her or not. Said he was a family friend worried for this little lost lamb…If you ask me, he didn't seem the type to be looking out for her so much as looking for her, if you know what I mean."
Sam turned the card over in his fingers.
"You saying we should warn Meg?"
"Of course I am you idjit! That little girl might be wild but I'd rather see her running than in the hands of some limey who looks like he'd snap someone's neck for fun. He's trouble. Not just for her, but to anyone associated with her."
"Cas."
"Cas. Me, you, Dean…. Shit, the way he talked, sounded like he'd been scoping the place for a while, which means he knows she works here."
"Who works here?"
They turned to see Meg walking in, shrugging her coat off.
The smile slipping from her face as she saw the way they looked when they turned to her.
"When I showed her the card… Shit Dean, I thought she was going to faint or something, she went white as a sheet, and then she ran."
"Ran?"
"I tried to stop her but she just said, tell him I'm sorry, then she pulled away and ran."
Dean drummed his fingers against the phone and took a deep breath. "Shit. We're nearly seven hours away Sam. Can you try and find her? Leave Bobby behind the bar? Fuck. No, just shut up, shut the place."
"Ok. Yeah. We can do that."
"If you find her… No, when, when you find her, put her in your car and drive her up to Dads old cabin. I'll call you again as soon as I get reception."
"Right, ok…. Maybe you should sleep first…"
"I'm fine. Cas will want to go now. Call me when you have news."
He dropped the receiver back into its cradle and wondered how on earth he was going to tell Cas.
How could she have been so stupid.
Meg ran up the steps to her apartment and fumbled the keys into the lock.
Bursting in she went first to the toilet cistern and fished out the roll of bills she kept in a plastic bag there.
Not much, but enough money to get her on a bus and pay to stay in the kind of motels that still took cash and asked no questions.
Stuffing it in her pocket, she went through to the main room, throwing the clothes lying around back into the suitcase, she zipped it up.
She should have known better.
Meg had been here far too long. Usually she only stayed a month, six weeks tops, but she'd got sloppy, thought she was safe.
Hesitating, she looked around the little room sadly.
She wouldn't miss it.
It was dark and cold and still smelled like piss, but it represented a life.
Cas.
No.
Being strong was what she had to do now.
If she stayed, he'd kill her.
If he found her with Cas, he'd kill him too.
Better to run.
Better for everyone if she just disappeared.
Gathering her things she headed swiftly for the door, only to be stopped by someone standing in her way.
He smiled at her kindly.
"Hello whore."
An icy fist of fear twisted in her gut.
"Crowley." She whispered.
"In a rush? But we have so much to talk about."
She dropped the case and started to back up, her heart hammering in her chest, eye's wildly looking for an escape route.
Recklessly she tried to push past him, bringing her fist back to hit him, but he was quicker.
He hit her hard, his fist connecting with her jaw, sending her half spinning to the floor.
Crowley walked in quickly, closed the door behind him then drew his foot back, kicking her hard in the stomach, twice, driving the breath from her lungs.
She curled up, her knees twitching, mouth opening and closing as she tried to breath with a collapsed diaphragm, hands shakily shielding her head.
Crouching down next to her he tutted with disappointment.
"You've caused me, an awful lot of trouble you little skank. I should kill you right now."
He withdrew his gun and gestured to her head with it.
Meg sucked in a painful breath, gasped and whimpered as he pressed the barrel to her temple.
"I should kill you now… So simple a thing to do. Nice and clean. Job over. But…"
He put the gun away and hauled her to her feet by the hair.
"….. But you've fucked me about so much, I think I'm entitled to a bit of fun first don't you?"
Meg grasped at his hands as she kicked herself up.
"You wanna stick it in me?" She rasped, spitting blood. "You sad, simple creature. Well I'll tell you something Crowley. Anything you stick in my mouth you're gonna lose."
He threw back his head and laughed.
"Don't flatter yourself dear. I'm sure you're full of nasty diseases. No sweetheart. I can find other ways to amuse myself with you."
He spun her round and slapped her wrists in cuffs, before dragging her into the hall.
She couldn't stop her self shaking.
All this time she'd spent running and he'd finally found her.
His reputation, the things Lucy had told her about him, about what he liked to do for fun….. For a split second she wondered if she should have just thrown herself through the window instead of let him take her.
The woman across from her opened her door and squinted out.
"Nothing to worry about love." He held up his badge and carried on.
Meg looked at her pleadingly, half turned in his grip to mouth help, hoping she realised something was wrong.
But she just turned away and closed the door.
"Don't you understand? Meg's gone!"
Cas tilted his head slightly and regarded Dean with solemn eyes.
When he'd burst back into the room and told him Cas had just nodded.
It was only as he had expected.
She wasn't his to keep old of.
She was gone.
"I can't blame her." He said quietly.
Dean gawped at him, anger building up in his chest, he grabbed hold of Cas and wrenched him fron the bed.
"Now you listen to me you stupid shit. This is not about you. You can't indulge in your little pity party right now. You wanna zone out and play rain man, well fine…. But you do it when we know Meg is safe, you understand?"
Cas glowered at Dean. "Why do you care."
"Because she's family now." He bellowed into his face, making him flinch. "If family's in trouble we don't just shrug and leave it to fate! Jesus! I don't understand you! I thought she was something to you?"
"She wasn't mine."
"Of course she wasn't yours." Dean scoffed, pushing Cas away roughly. "She doesn't belong to anyone but herself. You don't get to own her. This guy, Crowley, he scared her bad enough to run, what could sc…"
"What did you say?" Cas whispered, his eye's widening in alarm.
"What?"
"Crowley? You said this guy's name is Crowley?"
"Yeah… Didn't I mention that?"
Cas shook his head. "No. You didn't. Dean, we have to go. If this is who she told me about, Meg could be dead already."