Unexpected Destinies Chapter 93
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash, torture
Word Count: 3,300
Summary: While being tortured, Castiel suddenly feels his mate.
PAST
Castiel screamed as Meg threw more Holy oil through the flames and onto him. He did his best to avoid it, but his best was piteous to say the least. Trapped within the burning ring of more Holy oil, his range of movement was so limited that he could not completely avoid the additional oil the demon threw at him. All rational thought left him as the oil burned his vessel and true form alike, hurting him more than he'd ever been hurt before. He'd thought that Perdition had been bad when he'd entered it to save Dean; the demons, the sulfur, the darkness and the lack of easy connection with Heaven all combining to create an environment unlike any he'd ever known before and worse than anything he'd ever experienced before.
Until now.
If Castiel had ever wondered about how bad Holy oil could truly be, he definitely had his answer now and the knowledge that it couldn't kill him was of little comfort. He was finally starting to understand what humans meant with their expression 'a fate worse than death' though he dearly wished that he'd never attained this firsthand experience of it. The oil seared its way along his true form, once again catching the wings on his right side and he wondered if that was coincidence or if Meg was deliberately targeting the same side again even if she couldn't see his wings. As the horrendous pain retreated just enough for him to hear that Meg was speaking once more he couldn't help but wonder if she realized exactly how debilitating the Holy oil was for an angel. She couldn't or she'd know better than to try and address him now as he could only just make out that she was speaking, never mind what she was actually saying. Her voice washed past him in a meaningless blur and he refused to expend any effort on trying to understand it as there was no point in doing so. He didn't need to know what she was saying to know what his response should be.
Despite the agonizing pain, Castiel was determined not to give in and tell her what she wanted to know. He would not betray everyone he loved- his mate, his brothers and sisters and, his Father- just to save himself. Not when there was so much at stake and especially not when Meg's supply of Holy oil had to be limited. He could do this, he could endure this. He was an archangel now and had been a warrior all of his existence. Pain, sacrifice and endurance were part of his nature and what was required of him and thus he would serve. Besides, he knew his mate far too well to think that Dean was currently doing anything other than trying desperately to find him and he'd had enough personal experience with his mate's determination to know that Dean could perform seemingly impossible feats when he set his mind to it and he would not underestimate his hunter now. Nor ever again if he could help it.
The next wave of scorching agony made him scream aloud and Castiel was so focused on the sheer, unimaginable pain of it that at first he missed the new sensation that brushed up against his Grace and sent its own shockwaves along it. Still, despite that, he became aware of it far sooner than he had any right to no matter how wonderful and soothing it felt.
Dean; his mate.
The second that Castiel consciously became aware of the new sensation he knew what it was. He would recognize the touch of his mate's soul anywhere, no matter the circumstances or condition either he or it was in. Dean had been seared into his Grace from the moment he'd first touched his mate's soul down in the depths of Perdition despite how covered in darkness and taint as it had been. His mate's soul had been recognizably different under those worst of conditions and he'd never be able to forget it or what it had felt like to touch it even if he'd ever wanted to. Automatically he reached out for it, unable as ever to resist his mate's call and desperate for relief from the overwhelming agony he was still experiencing.
As more consciousness slowly returned to Castiel, he slowly began to think about escape once more. Like Dean, he had never been one to sit around and wait to be rescued and the hallucination he was currently experiencing merely served to spur him on. He didn't know how he was conjuring the sensation of his mate's soul to make it seem like he was actually able to feel Dean via their bond, but he most definitely knew why his Grace was doing it. Just the mere thought of once more touching his hunter's soul was enough to spur him on and make the pain lesson slightly even if it didn't become any more bearable. Once more the thought of the cell phone crossed his mind and this time acted on it. With the way things were going, he could clearly no longer afford to wait for a more opportune time as there might never be one and he was suddenly afraid that the small device would be irreparably damaged by the fire.
The thought had Castiel struggling to reach the cell phone in his inner coat pocket, the sudden determination and fear forcing him to move screaming muscles though he wanted nothing more than to simply drop to the floor and curl himself up to prevent any further damage and pain. The horror of potentially never being able to fly again flashed across his mind once more and it was all that he could do not to whimper at the mere idea. He immediately tried to shove the thought aside, trying to think instead of how undamaged Michael had been from his own encounter with being exposed to burning Holy oil, but he knew that it wasn't the same. His oldest brother had only had one, quick exposure to it and had been able to escape straight back to Heaven where Michael had received immediate medical attention from the Healers. He had no such opportunities and the damage would be far greater and potentially everlasting.
Meg's words continued to wash over him, their meaning as elusive as before as Castiel struggled desperately to get at and open his cell phone. He was sure that the only reason that he hadn't been stopped yet was that his movements were so uncoordinated that he knew neither demon had yet to figure out what his intentions were or indeed that he had any beyond twitching helplessly under the onslaught of the burning Holy oil. It seemed to take forever, but when he finally managed to retrieve and open his cellular communications device, he found another reason why they hadn't bothered stopping him and it was because of the message that appeared on the little screen.
No service.
Castiel screamed again as more burning oil landed on him along with a frustrated cry from Meg.
/
Although Dean had never done it before, he knew the moment that he was successful as he was not only suddenly awash in the sense of Castiel, but he was also unexpectedly caught up in a wave of sheering pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before this side of Hell. He cried out unthinkingly but then, before he could do anything else, his connection with his lover was abruptly broken and he was immediately cradled in soothing Grace and warmth as Michael sought to comfort him.
"Cas!" Dean called out, resisting. "No, let me go, let me back at him!"
"No, it is not necessary, Little One," Michael replied. "I was able to detect Castiel's location from the brief contact you had with him."
"What, you were?"
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
"Just outside of Houston, Texas."
"What the Hell are they doing with him?"
"I cannot be sure, but it felt like he was being subjected to Holy oil."
The words sent a thrill of horror through Dean as he recalled all that his lover had told him about Holy oil and how easily he had seen the stuff tame even an archangel as fiery as Raphael. Despite that, Castiel had never mentioned anything about how unbelievably painful it was to experience, but it kinda made sense given that it could restrain an angel and keep them in place. On top of that, the only time he'd ever seen it actually used on an angel had been when Castiel had thrown that Molotov cocktail at Michael and then the archangel had screamed and immediately fled and the incident had enraged Lucifer, the one who wanted to fight and defeat Michael. The one who wanted to kill Michael. From that alone he should have known the true power of Holy oil and yet he'd never truly stopped to think about it like that, but then that might have had as much to do with the fact that he didn't really like to think too much on things that could seriously harm his lover or his new friends. There was something so incredibly reassuring to him in the knowledge that none of them could easily be hurt, that they were all so amazingly powerful and resilient, that he really was loathe to linger too long on the ways in which they were vulnerable and could be seriously injured or even killed.
"Michael?" Xarael questioned and suddenly Dean could see her, as completely connected with his meatsuit as was possible while he was a vessel.
"I know where Castiel is," Michael stated. "Follow me."
With that the archangel took flight and Dean felt his heart soar at the thought of finally being able to see his lover again. At the same time, however, a part of him didn't want to see Castiel. That part of him thought of the pain he'd sensed radiating from his angel during their brief connection and was absolutely terrified of what they'd find and it wanted instead to bury his head in the sand and not have to deal with the potentially horrifying reality that they would find in Texas. He squashed that part of him the instant he became aware of it, but it made him aware of the terror he felt and made him confront the fact that his lover might be seriously injured and almost definitely hurt beyond all of his abilities to heal. The thought depressed him until he remembered Raphael's gift and that heartened him slightly along with the memory of what had happened in Stull. Michael had been subjected to Holy oil then and the archangel was fine, so it gave him the hope that he so desperately needed for now even given how short the flight was. His imagination had never been constrained by anything so frivolous as time and had always been able to conjure up a myriad of horrific scenarios in under a second.
Then they landed and all such thoughts fled Dean's mind. Instead he was assaulted by the screams of his lover, the smell of fire and the sight of two twisting black abominations that it took him several seconds to recognize as demons. In all of his times as Michael's vessel they'd never come across a demon before and thus he'd never laid eyes on one with the enhanced sight of an angel and it was an astounding sight to behold. In some miniscule way it was similar to that severely tainted soul he'd caught a glimpse of when out with Michael, but only in so much as a drop of rain was kinda like a vast ocean. The only reason that he was even able to make the connection at all was because he was forcing himself not to glance at his lover as he knew that the moment he looked at Castiel he'd break. The sheer agony he'd felt earlier and the absolutely horrendous scream that was only just starting to peter off told him all he needed to know about his angel's condition and he knew that if he gave it even half a chance, he'd be completely overwhelmed by it and that was simply something he couldn't afford right now.
Yes, Dean was fully aware of the fact that he couldn't really do anything at the moment, that Michael was in charge of things just now, but he knew that what he did and how he reacted could make a hell of a difference in how things went for him. If he allowed himself to be distracted and to focus on Castiel then he'd lose all control and want nothing more than to rush to his lover's side and focus solely on him, something which simply wouldn't happen and then he'd feel trapped, locked inside his own body, completely helpless. And not only would that make an already unbearable situation a thousand times more so, but he also knew that it wasn't fair to Michael who also wanted nothing more than to rush to his brother's side and aid him. Despite all of that, the thing that ultimately allowed him to keep his focus on the demons was the knowledge that they were responsible for torturing his lover and the fact that he could literally feel Michael's bloodlust singing in his veins and it merely served to ignite his own desire for vengeance and retribution.
They had hurt his lover, had dared to torture Castiel, and they needed to pay for that. Dean snarled, wanting nothing more than to throw himself at the demon holding what he instantly recognized as a jug of Holy oil. It needed to die, now. He felt a flare of surprise and acknowledgement within him from Michael and then they were moving, flying across the room in a heartbeat and grasping hold of the demon by the throat even as she tried to turn around to face them.
"Winchester," the demon stated, startled. "Wha- How did you get in here?"
Dean was momentarily stunned, surprised that she knew his name as he didn't recognize her, but then that didn't really mean anything. Demons often changed hosts at the drop of a hat and he'd definitely pissed off enough demons over the past few years to have made himself memorable to more than a few of them. Still, the vast majority of demons preferred to take hosts that were physically more powerful or intimidating and there was only one who was still alive that he knew to consistently take a female body.
"Meg," Dean said, sending Michael a compressed burst of memory so that the archangel knew exactly who they were dealing with here.
"Meg," Michael repeated aloud.
"Come to save your little angel, have you? Sorry, but you can't have him, he's mine," Meg declared, clearly not yet understanding her predicament.
There was a sharp cry from across the room followed by the sound of a sword being drawn and Dean knew that Xarael was on the other demon. He felt a sense of satisfaction, but it passed quickly as Michael wrested the jug of Holy oil from Meg and he finally saw the confusion and shock that he'd been looking for cross her face. The fact that it was swiftly followed by absolute terror made something primal and dark inside of him roar its approval, sated only slightly when Michael doused the flames with a wave of his hand though the archangel never took his eyes off the demon in his grasp.
"Angel," Meg spat, hissing as she tried to break free and failed.
"Demon spawn," Michael replied, tightening his fingers around her throat. "You will pay for what you have done to my brother."
Both the feel of the demonic essence squirming wildly beneath his fingers and the sight of it made Dean smile. This time Meg wouldn't be able to escape, this time she would pay for all that she'd done. Briefly he wished that Bobby could be here now to witness the end of the one who had ultimately been responsible for the older hunter ending up in a wheelchair for as long as he had, but then he banished the thought, not even wanting to think about the man who had betrayed him so easily.
"Impossible, Dean Winchester an angelic vessel?" Meg spat.
"Not just a vessel, the vessel."
"The vessel? What, you think you're some sort of special angel?"
On some level Meg's bravado astounded Dean as he'd never quite expected her to be able to keep it up when truly threatened, but he could also understand it, having often been there himself. The fact that he could, though, pissed him off. He didn't want to be able to understand her on that kind of level, not after what she'd done to his lover, not after how she'd tortured Castiel, but he had to wonder if it was inevitable on some level. Despite how wildly different they were, there were similarities in their backgrounds which were impossible to ignore and they could all be summed up in just one name; Alastair. The knowledge made him even more fearful of what he'd find when Michael finally turned his attention to Castiel.
"Lucifer definitely thinks so," Michael stated calmly.
The horror and realization that lit up Meg's eyes delighted Dean, as did her renewed struggles for freedom.
"Little One?"
"Do it," Dean replied, knowing what the archangel was asking for. "Fucking kill her so that she can't ever do this or anything else ever again."
The fact that Michael thought to check with him touched Dean as it proved that his friend was considering what he had to say, but this wasn't at all like before with Roy. Unlike humans, demons were inherently evil, couldn't be anything else given what they were and how they were created, so there was no reason to exercise the same kind of restraint with them as with people. Whereas a human could learn and change, a demon couldn't. A demon was pure evil and would always perpetuate that evil with nothing but pleasure and for no other reason than simply because it could. Therefore it was with an intense satisfaction that he watched, and felt, Michael draw his sword.
"No!" Meg shrieked desperately.
"You tortured a beloved brother of mine."
"Mercy, Michael!"
"No."
A part of Dean screamed when he watched the blade sink into Meg, hating that she was going to get off so easily after all that she'd done, but the rest of him knew that it was the best way. Despite himself, he couldn't help but be somewhat fascinated by the way Michael's sword seemed to start glowing and then he could almost feel it, the blade that was. It took him a moment to realize that it was the archangel's Grace that was running through the weapon, straight into Meg's demonic essence. She screamed as the Light started to work its way through her Dark, obliterating everything in its path. No, purifying and obliterating it. It kinda reminded him of all of those souls down in Hell, the ones that had been partially demonified already only now the whole process seemed to run in reverse and ended with the complete and utter annihilation of Meg. Good riddance to bad garbage and all, but he was incredibly glad that he'd gotten the chance to see Meg's death through Michael's eyes. It was far more satisfying then witnessing a demon die with his own sight.
Then Michael dropped the body and turned towards Castiel. The moment that Dean caught sight of his angel he felt his heart leap into his throat.
His lover looked dead.
A.N.: I'm so sorry for the additional week's delay! Some of you have mentioned sureprise at my quick updating schedule before and that's because if I leave too long between updates I can get writer's block and that's exactly what happened here. Although I knew exactly where I wanted to go with this chapter it just did not seem to want to get written. Hopefully that's all gone now.
Chapter 94
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash, torture
Word Count: 3,300
Summary: While being tortured, Castiel suddenly feels his mate.
PAST
Castiel screamed as Meg threw more Holy oil through the flames and onto him. He did his best to avoid it, but his best was piteous to say the least. Trapped within the burning ring of more Holy oil, his range of movement was so limited that he could not completely avoid the additional oil the demon threw at him. All rational thought left him as the oil burned his vessel and true form alike, hurting him more than he'd ever been hurt before. He'd thought that Perdition had been bad when he'd entered it to save Dean; the demons, the sulfur, the darkness and the lack of easy connection with Heaven all combining to create an environment unlike any he'd ever known before and worse than anything he'd ever experienced before.
Until now.
If Castiel had ever wondered about how bad Holy oil could truly be, he definitely had his answer now and the knowledge that it couldn't kill him was of little comfort. He was finally starting to understand what humans meant with their expression 'a fate worse than death' though he dearly wished that he'd never attained this firsthand experience of it. The oil seared its way along his true form, once again catching the wings on his right side and he wondered if that was coincidence or if Meg was deliberately targeting the same side again even if she couldn't see his wings. As the horrendous pain retreated just enough for him to hear that Meg was speaking once more he couldn't help but wonder if she realized exactly how debilitating the Holy oil was for an angel. She couldn't or she'd know better than to try and address him now as he could only just make out that she was speaking, never mind what she was actually saying. Her voice washed past him in a meaningless blur and he refused to expend any effort on trying to understand it as there was no point in doing so. He didn't need to know what she was saying to know what his response should be.
Despite the agonizing pain, Castiel was determined not to give in and tell her what she wanted to know. He would not betray everyone he loved- his mate, his brothers and sisters and, his Father- just to save himself. Not when there was so much at stake and especially not when Meg's supply of Holy oil had to be limited. He could do this, he could endure this. He was an archangel now and had been a warrior all of his existence. Pain, sacrifice and endurance were part of his nature and what was required of him and thus he would serve. Besides, he knew his mate far too well to think that Dean was currently doing anything other than trying desperately to find him and he'd had enough personal experience with his mate's determination to know that Dean could perform seemingly impossible feats when he set his mind to it and he would not underestimate his hunter now. Nor ever again if he could help it.
The next wave of scorching agony made him scream aloud and Castiel was so focused on the sheer, unimaginable pain of it that at first he missed the new sensation that brushed up against his Grace and sent its own shockwaves along it. Still, despite that, he became aware of it far sooner than he had any right to no matter how wonderful and soothing it felt.
Dean; his mate.
The second that Castiel consciously became aware of the new sensation he knew what it was. He would recognize the touch of his mate's soul anywhere, no matter the circumstances or condition either he or it was in. Dean had been seared into his Grace from the moment he'd first touched his mate's soul down in the depths of Perdition despite how covered in darkness and taint as it had been. His mate's soul had been recognizably different under those worst of conditions and he'd never be able to forget it or what it had felt like to touch it even if he'd ever wanted to. Automatically he reached out for it, unable as ever to resist his mate's call and desperate for relief from the overwhelming agony he was still experiencing.
As more consciousness slowly returned to Castiel, he slowly began to think about escape once more. Like Dean, he had never been one to sit around and wait to be rescued and the hallucination he was currently experiencing merely served to spur him on. He didn't know how he was conjuring the sensation of his mate's soul to make it seem like he was actually able to feel Dean via their bond, but he most definitely knew why his Grace was doing it. Just the mere thought of once more touching his hunter's soul was enough to spur him on and make the pain lesson slightly even if it didn't become any more bearable. Once more the thought of the cell phone crossed his mind and this time acted on it. With the way things were going, he could clearly no longer afford to wait for a more opportune time as there might never be one and he was suddenly afraid that the small device would be irreparably damaged by the fire.
The thought had Castiel struggling to reach the cell phone in his inner coat pocket, the sudden determination and fear forcing him to move screaming muscles though he wanted nothing more than to simply drop to the floor and curl himself up to prevent any further damage and pain. The horror of potentially never being able to fly again flashed across his mind once more and it was all that he could do not to whimper at the mere idea. He immediately tried to shove the thought aside, trying to think instead of how undamaged Michael had been from his own encounter with being exposed to burning Holy oil, but he knew that it wasn't the same. His oldest brother had only had one, quick exposure to it and had been able to escape straight back to Heaven where Michael had received immediate medical attention from the Healers. He had no such opportunities and the damage would be far greater and potentially everlasting.
Meg's words continued to wash over him, their meaning as elusive as before as Castiel struggled desperately to get at and open his cell phone. He was sure that the only reason that he hadn't been stopped yet was that his movements were so uncoordinated that he knew neither demon had yet to figure out what his intentions were or indeed that he had any beyond twitching helplessly under the onslaught of the burning Holy oil. It seemed to take forever, but when he finally managed to retrieve and open his cellular communications device, he found another reason why they hadn't bothered stopping him and it was because of the message that appeared on the little screen.
No service.
Castiel screamed again as more burning oil landed on him along with a frustrated cry from Meg.
/
Although Dean had never done it before, he knew the moment that he was successful as he was not only suddenly awash in the sense of Castiel, but he was also unexpectedly caught up in a wave of sheering pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before this side of Hell. He cried out unthinkingly but then, before he could do anything else, his connection with his lover was abruptly broken and he was immediately cradled in soothing Grace and warmth as Michael sought to comfort him.
"Cas!" Dean called out, resisting. "No, let me go, let me back at him!"
"No, it is not necessary, Little One," Michael replied. "I was able to detect Castiel's location from the brief contact you had with him."
"What, you were?"
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
"Just outside of Houston, Texas."
"What the Hell are they doing with him?"
"I cannot be sure, but it felt like he was being subjected to Holy oil."
The words sent a thrill of horror through Dean as he recalled all that his lover had told him about Holy oil and how easily he had seen the stuff tame even an archangel as fiery as Raphael. Despite that, Castiel had never mentioned anything about how unbelievably painful it was to experience, but it kinda made sense given that it could restrain an angel and keep them in place. On top of that, the only time he'd ever seen it actually used on an angel had been when Castiel had thrown that Molotov cocktail at Michael and then the archangel had screamed and immediately fled and the incident had enraged Lucifer, the one who wanted to fight and defeat Michael. The one who wanted to kill Michael. From that alone he should have known the true power of Holy oil and yet he'd never truly stopped to think about it like that, but then that might have had as much to do with the fact that he didn't really like to think too much on things that could seriously harm his lover or his new friends. There was something so incredibly reassuring to him in the knowledge that none of them could easily be hurt, that they were all so amazingly powerful and resilient, that he really was loathe to linger too long on the ways in which they were vulnerable and could be seriously injured or even killed.
"Michael?" Xarael questioned and suddenly Dean could see her, as completely connected with his meatsuit as was possible while he was a vessel.
"I know where Castiel is," Michael stated. "Follow me."
With that the archangel took flight and Dean felt his heart soar at the thought of finally being able to see his lover again. At the same time, however, a part of him didn't want to see Castiel. That part of him thought of the pain he'd sensed radiating from his angel during their brief connection and was absolutely terrified of what they'd find and it wanted instead to bury his head in the sand and not have to deal with the potentially horrifying reality that they would find in Texas. He squashed that part of him the instant he became aware of it, but it made him aware of the terror he felt and made him confront the fact that his lover might be seriously injured and almost definitely hurt beyond all of his abilities to heal. The thought depressed him until he remembered Raphael's gift and that heartened him slightly along with the memory of what had happened in Stull. Michael had been subjected to Holy oil then and the archangel was fine, so it gave him the hope that he so desperately needed for now even given how short the flight was. His imagination had never been constrained by anything so frivolous as time and had always been able to conjure up a myriad of horrific scenarios in under a second.
Then they landed and all such thoughts fled Dean's mind. Instead he was assaulted by the screams of his lover, the smell of fire and the sight of two twisting black abominations that it took him several seconds to recognize as demons. In all of his times as Michael's vessel they'd never come across a demon before and thus he'd never laid eyes on one with the enhanced sight of an angel and it was an astounding sight to behold. In some miniscule way it was similar to that severely tainted soul he'd caught a glimpse of when out with Michael, but only in so much as a drop of rain was kinda like a vast ocean. The only reason that he was even able to make the connection at all was because he was forcing himself not to glance at his lover as he knew that the moment he looked at Castiel he'd break. The sheer agony he'd felt earlier and the absolutely horrendous scream that was only just starting to peter off told him all he needed to know about his angel's condition and he knew that if he gave it even half a chance, he'd be completely overwhelmed by it and that was simply something he couldn't afford right now.
Yes, Dean was fully aware of the fact that he couldn't really do anything at the moment, that Michael was in charge of things just now, but he knew that what he did and how he reacted could make a hell of a difference in how things went for him. If he allowed himself to be distracted and to focus on Castiel then he'd lose all control and want nothing more than to rush to his lover's side and focus solely on him, something which simply wouldn't happen and then he'd feel trapped, locked inside his own body, completely helpless. And not only would that make an already unbearable situation a thousand times more so, but he also knew that it wasn't fair to Michael who also wanted nothing more than to rush to his brother's side and aid him. Despite all of that, the thing that ultimately allowed him to keep his focus on the demons was the knowledge that they were responsible for torturing his lover and the fact that he could literally feel Michael's bloodlust singing in his veins and it merely served to ignite his own desire for vengeance and retribution.
They had hurt his lover, had dared to torture Castiel, and they needed to pay for that. Dean snarled, wanting nothing more than to throw himself at the demon holding what he instantly recognized as a jug of Holy oil. It needed to die, now. He felt a flare of surprise and acknowledgement within him from Michael and then they were moving, flying across the room in a heartbeat and grasping hold of the demon by the throat even as she tried to turn around to face them.
"Winchester," the demon stated, startled. "Wha- How did you get in here?"
Dean was momentarily stunned, surprised that she knew his name as he didn't recognize her, but then that didn't really mean anything. Demons often changed hosts at the drop of a hat and he'd definitely pissed off enough demons over the past few years to have made himself memorable to more than a few of them. Still, the vast majority of demons preferred to take hosts that were physically more powerful or intimidating and there was only one who was still alive that he knew to consistently take a female body.
"Meg," Dean said, sending Michael a compressed burst of memory so that the archangel knew exactly who they were dealing with here.
"Meg," Michael repeated aloud.
"Come to save your little angel, have you? Sorry, but you can't have him, he's mine," Meg declared, clearly not yet understanding her predicament.
There was a sharp cry from across the room followed by the sound of a sword being drawn and Dean knew that Xarael was on the other demon. He felt a sense of satisfaction, but it passed quickly as Michael wrested the jug of Holy oil from Meg and he finally saw the confusion and shock that he'd been looking for cross her face. The fact that it was swiftly followed by absolute terror made something primal and dark inside of him roar its approval, sated only slightly when Michael doused the flames with a wave of his hand though the archangel never took his eyes off the demon in his grasp.
"Angel," Meg spat, hissing as she tried to break free and failed.
"Demon spawn," Michael replied, tightening his fingers around her throat. "You will pay for what you have done to my brother."
Both the feel of the demonic essence squirming wildly beneath his fingers and the sight of it made Dean smile. This time Meg wouldn't be able to escape, this time she would pay for all that she'd done. Briefly he wished that Bobby could be here now to witness the end of the one who had ultimately been responsible for the older hunter ending up in a wheelchair for as long as he had, but then he banished the thought, not even wanting to think about the man who had betrayed him so easily.
"Impossible, Dean Winchester an angelic vessel?" Meg spat.
"Not just a vessel, the vessel."
"The vessel? What, you think you're some sort of special angel?"
On some level Meg's bravado astounded Dean as he'd never quite expected her to be able to keep it up when truly threatened, but he could also understand it, having often been there himself. The fact that he could, though, pissed him off. He didn't want to be able to understand her on that kind of level, not after what she'd done to his lover, not after how she'd tortured Castiel, but he had to wonder if it was inevitable on some level. Despite how wildly different they were, there were similarities in their backgrounds which were impossible to ignore and they could all be summed up in just one name; Alastair. The knowledge made him even more fearful of what he'd find when Michael finally turned his attention to Castiel.
"Lucifer definitely thinks so," Michael stated calmly.
The horror and realization that lit up Meg's eyes delighted Dean, as did her renewed struggles for freedom.
"Little One?"
"Do it," Dean replied, knowing what the archangel was asking for. "Fucking kill her so that she can't ever do this or anything else ever again."
The fact that Michael thought to check with him touched Dean as it proved that his friend was considering what he had to say, but this wasn't at all like before with Roy. Unlike humans, demons were inherently evil, couldn't be anything else given what they were and how they were created, so there was no reason to exercise the same kind of restraint with them as with people. Whereas a human could learn and change, a demon couldn't. A demon was pure evil and would always perpetuate that evil with nothing but pleasure and for no other reason than simply because it could. Therefore it was with an intense satisfaction that he watched, and felt, Michael draw his sword.
"No!" Meg shrieked desperately.
"You tortured a beloved brother of mine."
"Mercy, Michael!"
"No."
A part of Dean screamed when he watched the blade sink into Meg, hating that she was going to get off so easily after all that she'd done, but the rest of him knew that it was the best way. Despite himself, he couldn't help but be somewhat fascinated by the way Michael's sword seemed to start glowing and then he could almost feel it, the blade that was. It took him a moment to realize that it was the archangel's Grace that was running through the weapon, straight into Meg's demonic essence. She screamed as the Light started to work its way through her Dark, obliterating everything in its path. No, purifying and obliterating it. It kinda reminded him of all of those souls down in Hell, the ones that had been partially demonified already only now the whole process seemed to run in reverse and ended with the complete and utter annihilation of Meg. Good riddance to bad garbage and all, but he was incredibly glad that he'd gotten the chance to see Meg's death through Michael's eyes. It was far more satisfying then witnessing a demon die with his own sight.
Then Michael dropped the body and turned towards Castiel. The moment that Dean caught sight of his angel he felt his heart leap into his throat.
His lover looked dead.
A.N.: I'm so sorry for the additional week's delay! Some of you have mentioned sureprise at my quick updating schedule before and that's because if I leave too long between updates I can get writer's block and that's exactly what happened here. Although I knew exactly where I wanted to go with this chapter it just did not seem to want to get written. Hopefully that's all gone now.
Chapter 94