Chapter 15- "We'll bring her home.
Deans phone buzzed and he tossed it to Cas to answer, his face set grim as he kept his eyes on the road, watchful for traffic cops.
"Sam."
"Cas? We went to the address we had for Meg, but it's wrong. You've been to her place right?"
"Yes. The building across from the Chinese market on Lambert Street, Apartment 4e…. What address did she give you?"
"Some warehouse out the other side of town. Ok, Bobby's with me, we're not far. Call you when we're there."
The door was ajar.
"Well that's never a good sign." Muttered Bobby.
Cautiously, Sam pushed it further and carefully slipped inside.
"Meg? You here?"
"For Gods sake Sam get out the way." Bobby pushed past and went to stand in the centre of the room.
They both looked down at the case. The zip was broken, clothes spilling onto the floor.
Bending down Bobby picked up a handful of cards.
"Fake ID's…. Good ones. This kid was serious!"
Sam frowned at him. "How do you know they're good ones."
He took a swig from his flask and ignored him. "Look…." Sam turned to where he was pointing.
A tiny dab of blood on the carpet.
"There's more." Bobby said quietly, pointing out four, five, six more spots. "Someone got hit, hard enough to knock them down…. And it was recently….."
Sam straightened up. "How do you even know all this."
He shot and angry look at Sam and got to his feet, stuffing his flask back in his pocket. "Wasn't always a barely functioning alcoholic boy. Come on. We need to move."
As they left the apartment Sam noticed the door opposite was slightly open, a sour looking face peering out.
"Ma'am…."
She went to close it, but he grabbed at the side before she could. Seeing the fear in her eyes he tried his best to look as non threatening as possible, smiling apologetically.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you. I'm looking for a friend of mine, lives right over there."
"Gone."
Sam shot a worried look at Bobby. "Um, did you happen to see her leave?"
"Yup."
"Was she with anyone by chance?"
"Cop." Her eye's shone with indignation, a cruel grin twisted on her face, she seemed to enjoy the look of panic on Sam's face.
"Right, ok. Did… Ah… did he say where he was taking her?"
"Nope."
Sam and Bobby shared a helpless look.
"But that woman did."
"Woman?"
"The one out here couple a nights 'go. Talking in the hall with the cop. The whore wasn't home. … Do you have any idea how many men have been in her apartment since she moved in?"
Sam frowned, trying not to show his anger. "That's really none of my business… Um…. So this woman?"
"Ya, she said somthin' about a rendering plant. That's all I heard." She narrowed her eyes at them. "But I expect you'll find her down at the sheriffs. They lock prostitutes up don't they? Little tramp."
Bobby stepped forwards. "Thank you for your time ma'am." Then shoved the door shut hard, making the woman on the other side stumble back and let loose a string of shrill obscenities that bounced off the walls as they headed for the exit.
"You know any rendering plants round here Bobby?"
They hit the stairs and jogged down them swiftly.
"Nope. Don't mean there ain't none though. Better call Dean."
"Shhh. Hold still now."
Meg screwed up her face as the woman started stitching.
It was a bizarre sensation, to watch your own fingers being sewn back on.
Her head was swimming.
It was hard to focus, to form a coherent thought in her head. She kept dozing off and imagining herself still wrapped up in bed, someone stroking her hair, whispering softly in her ear, then she'd jerk back to reality with a cry.
The knife was no longer sticking out of her hand, a dressing held on with a bandage was in its place.
Meg couldn't feel her fingers, the stumps were ice cold, from whatever the woman had injected into them. She wondered briefly how clean everything was.
The woman looked up at Meg and smiled lightly. "I can't give you any more morphine. You're going to have to try and bear it later on. Do you understand?"
"Who are you?" She slurred.
"Naomi."
Meg frowned, her brain trying to grasp the significance of the name.
Cas.
"Naomi. From the brotherhood, Naomi?"
She just nodded and went back to stitching.
"You're lucky." She said breezily. "I did some nursing, you may not lose the fingers. Well… you might, I'm kind of hoping the nerves and blood vessels find their own way…. But he wanted them back on, so…."
"You sent Cas away." Meg moaned, her head lolling to one side before she could catch it. She sniffed and shook her head hard, trying to get rid of the fog.
Naomi glanced up, looking sternly at Meg. "Lucky for him I did." She laughed and went back to her work. "Can you imagine what Crowley would have done to poor little Castiel."
The wooziness was fading and the pain became more acute. She gritted her teeth and swallowed down her desire to cry out.
"With any luck, Castiel is back where he belongs. With his family. Not living in this Godless place and consorting with people like you."
Meg didn't think it was her imagination when she felt Naomi drive the needle home more carelessly than before.
"People like me." She gasped, feeling the thread pull against her skin. "What about you Naomi. How is it that you're cleaning up Crowleys mess…. FUCK!"
She slammed the back of her head against the chair as Naomi jabbed the needle in again.
"Crowley is a great man…. A great man." She shook her head anxiously as she said this. "Take care girl. Crowley could have had you in pieces by now. It's only because He called him this afternoon that you're still alive, and that you get to keep your fingers, for the time being anyway."
"Who called him?"
"The boss."
Meg laughed, then grunted as the thread was pulled through again. "Crowley has a boss?"
"Everyone answers to someone dear." Naomi smiled.
"Even me." They both turned to see Crowley walking in, jacket slung over his shoulder.
He tried to look nonchalant but she could see there was something different in his posture.
An air of tempered ferocity.
Someone had spoiled his game.
Meg bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself smiling.
Even here, tied to this chair, with her fingers being inexpertly sewn onto her ruined hand, she relished the thought of Crowley being pissed off.
"You finished yet?" He barked at Naomi.
She flinched and glanced at him like a frightened child.
"Nearly."
"Well hurry up, I want to move her."
Naomi bent to her work and Crowley glared at Meg, his jaw twitching with annoyance.
"Someone put you in a time out?" She drawled, letting that smile creep in.
He said nothing.
"Done." Naomi stood up quickly, gathering her things and standing aside as he pulled out a packing knife.
Meg held her breath while he cut her wrists and legs free and couldn't help yelping as he dragged her to stand before him.
For a moment he glared at her, the tiny thread of fear starting to creep through her again at the pent up rage that bloomed behind his eyes.
With a grunt he pushed her ahead of him into a bathroom, made no attempt to catch her as she stumbled, her legs numb with pins and needles, instead letting her fall to the floor with a sickening crunch.
She cried as she landed awkwardly on her shoulder trying to protect her hand.
Handling her roughly he cuffed her to one of the urinals then grabbed her by the hair so she was forced to half stand.
"Listen to me you little slut. The only reason you're still breathing is because he wants you alive. I put the fingers back on as a courtesy, but I am more than willing to send you to him Boxing Helena style if you so much as roll your eyes at me. Are we clear?"
She nodded and he let her drop.
He shut the door, leaving her sitting on cold tiles, her hand no longer numb, but burning like she was holding it in fire. She could almost imagine the flesh crisping from the inside out.
It made her dizzy to look at her fingers so she didn't.
Come on.
Focus.
Carefully she stood up as far as she could, the cuffs forcing her to stay half bent over.
If only she could work out a way to look out of the window.
She paused. Surprised at the thought.
Wasn't she ready to die?
Hadn't she wanted it?
No.
The look on his face just then had been enough to change her mind, let alone Naomi turning up.
Quietly she smiled to herself.
Fuck him.
She was going to get out of this.
One way or the other.
Dean hung up and threw the phone back onto the drivers seat, his other hand on the pump, filling up the Impala.
"Right, Sam and Bobby are only a few miles from Dads old cabin, we're gonna meet them there."
Cas ran his hands nervously through his hair.
"Shouldn't they check out this lead? What if she's at this rendering plant?"
"And what if he's there? Crowley and ten other guys? I can't send them in there alone. We need a plan Cas. All we'll do is end up dead if we just burst in there and we're no use to Meg if we're corpses, right?"
"I suppose."
Dean smiled reassuringly as Cas. "Get in the car. Another hour and we'll be able to sort this mess out."
They got in and as Dean started up Cas said quietly.
"She's not dead."
"I know buddy."
"No. I mean, she's not. I can feel her. Earlier I felt hopeless, I felt her slipping away, but now….. She's fighting Dean."
He turned to him with watery eyes and grasped at his hand. "We have to find her. We have to find her soon."
Dean nodded grimly.
"We will. I promise. We'll bring her home."