Lightning lit up the woods, broken by the surrounding trees. A moment later, thunder cracked the silence of the night. Meg lifted her bottle of vodka and took a long drink.
"Wow. That's, uh, unexpected," Sam said, coming out onto the porch.
"Yeah," Meg replied, not looking at him.
"Where's Cas?"
Meg shrugged. The angel had flown away with the first crack of thunder, his eyes wide. She wasn't surprised. In the hospital when there was a storm he'd curl up in a ball, shaking."He'll be back when it's over."
"Oh." He sat down next to her on the bench. "You're good with him."
Meg snorted a laugh. "Really?"
"Yeah."
He sounded sincere but Meg wasn't buying it. "That's why you were so ready to kill me when we got out of the hospital? Because I'm so good with him?"
"Not my best day," Sam admitted. That was all, and Meg knew better than to expect more.
"Whatever," Meg muttered and took another drink.
"Look, this isn't easy for us—"
"Why is it always about you?" she asked, her temper flaring. She knew exactly who Sam was including in his 'us.'
Sam blinked at the interruption. "What?"
"Why is it always about you and Deano? What about Cas? What about me? You think this is easy for us? Ah...that's right. We're shit because we're not human."
There was another crack of thunder and it started to pour rain. Meg stormed away from the cabin into the night.
"Meg, wait!" Sam called. He grabbed her arm when he caught up with her. She gave him a warning look and he released her, hands up. "I don't...I mean..."
She crossed her arms. "You can't even deny it because you know I'm right."
"You're not."
"Then say it."
Sam was silent.
She uncrossed her arms and stepped up to him. He tensed but didn't back away. She looked up into his eyes. "If I'm wrong then say that after everything we have done for you, you value me and Cas as much as any human."
Sam opened his mouth but after a moment looked defeated. Meg took no pleasure from it. "I can't."
"I win," Meg said flatly.
Sam sighed and then seemed to notice how close they were. He cleared his throat and Meg leaned in to lightly press her chest against him. She caught his sharp inhale, the increase in his pupil size, the increase in his heartbeat.
"Well..." she said quietly, her voice low. "You might not value us..." She leaned up, breathing against his neck. "But we're at least good enough to fuck…right?"
"Stop."
"Prove me wrong," she challenged, pulling away but running one finger down his chest. He caught her hand before she could reach his waist, but didn't let go. "Hm?"
"Meg, what's this about?"
She roughly pulled away, her temper rising again and taking over. "What? I'm a demon. This is how I'm supposed to act. We love to tempt people, remember? We're not nice. We don't take care of fucking angels!"
Sam looked at her with such understanding that she wanted to rip his face off just to make him stop.
"You don't. Demons I mean. But you do."
Meg scoffed and took another long drink of vodka. Not that it did anything. She drank it more because of the taste and, well, it's what demons did. Disgusted she tossed the bottle away. The shatter was barely audible under another crack of thunder.
"I guess you have a choice. Be what is expected of you or...be your own demon," Sam said quietly.
"That's rich coming from you. Tell you what… You be your own man instead of Dean's Little Brother, and then talk to me of expectations."
Sam paused and then nodded to himself and turned back to the cabin, leaving her in the storm.