Meg punched her way up through the debris, breathing in the ashes and dust. She did some rapid damage control: dislocated shoulder, a few broken ribs. It wasn’t so bad. She’d had it worse. Her meatsuit would hold. She stood up on shaky legs, and looked around. Risa’s body was laying face down a few steps near her, with an ugly pool of blood forming behind it. Other members of the camp were also around, not moving, but Meg ignored them. She needed to find… she had to find…
“Clarence?” she called. Her voice came out broken, and she forced herself to vomit all the crap she had inhaled. “Clarence?”
Something moved among the debris, a soft moan of pain reached her ears. She ran towards her fallen angel. He had a leg trapped underneath a large boulder, and he was coughing softly.
“Castiel!”· Meg called him, as she kneeled next to him.
“Hey,” Castiel said softly, and smiled weakly. A trickle of blood was coming out from the side of his mouth. “I-I think I broke something…”
He coughed, and the blood spat on Meg’s shirt. She tried to convince herself it was almost invisible among the dirt that was already there.
“Hold on,” she said.
She stood up and pushed the boulder away with all her strength. Her muscles tensed, and at first the damn thing didn’t move. Meg got furios. She was still a demon. She was strong enough. She had to be. The boulder moved with a hollow thump, and Meg grabbed Castiel by the arm as delicately as she could and helped him stand up.
“Hold on,” she repeated. “It’s not so bad. I’ll take you back to camp. They’ll patch you up in a minute…”
“Meg,” he gasped. “Stop. I can’t… hurts too much…”
Slowly, Meg sat him down next to one of the few walls that were still standing. Castiel looked up at her with eyes foggy from the pain.
“Punctured… lung,” he explained, and every breath seemed to be a torture. “I don’t think… there’s anything they can do…”
Meg bit back a scream, because there was nothing she could do either. She couldn’t cure him. She couldn’t take the pain away. She was a creature of darkness and chaos, for fuck’s sake, she hadn’t been made for comforting others. She wasn’t even supposed to have a heart, but she could feel it breaking inside her. Her angel was dying, and there was nothing she could do about it.
“Stay with me…” Castiel begged, like he had read her mind. “Just… stay…”
“Of course,” she said, and she sat next to him and hugged him. Not as hard she wanted it too.
“I’m… I’m scared…” Castiel confessed, and Meg supposed it was logical. After all, he had fallen in every imaginable way.
“It’s gonna be fine, Cas,” she consoled him. “Hear my heartbeat, okay? Just focus on that.”
Castiel mumbled something else, but he was so weak, and his breathing had become so heavy Meg couldn’t understand it. Meg just ran her fingers throw his overgrown hair, kissed his forehead and the stubble on his cheeks and his chin and told him over and over that everything was going to be okay. She kept doing that until the light went off in Castiel’s eyes.
Only then she allowed herself to yell and cry, so loud she was sure she could be heard from miles around. She didn’t care. She didn’t care if a swarm of Croats closed on her. She didn’t care she was supposed to get up and inform Dean of what happened.
She didn’t even care when he appeared in front of her with a roar of thunder.
Meg was familiar with the features he was wearing, but it would have been a lie to say there was anything that remotely resembled Sam Winchester in the man standing next to her. It had been years since the last time she saw him, when she realized even she, the most faithful of his children, was nothing but an insect to be smashed under his heel, when she realized her best fighting chance was with her formers enemies. When her loyalty changed from one fallen angel to another.
“Lucifer,” she greeted him coldly. She was still holding Castiel’s body against hers, but she didn’t let go, and she didn’t stand up. “I see Dean didn’t manage to kill you.”
“Oh, no, no,” said Lucifer, with a little shrug. “It was the other way around, I’m afraid.”
“Good,” Meg muttered. She wasn’t sure what she would’ve done had she seen Dean again, now she knew his master plan had consisted in feeding them all to the meat grinder.
“I don’t know what you expected, my child,” Lucifer said. “Humans are temporary, after all. Fragile and fleeting,” he added, encompassing all the corpses around with one grandiose movement of his hand. “And yet you chose to love one.”
“He wasn’t human,” Meg reminded him.
“No, of course not,” Lucifer replied, in a tone that was supposed to be compassionate but came out condescending and mocking. He kicked aside another body and sat next to Meg. “I guess the real question is not why you loved him, but how come he ended up loving you. Because he did, you know? Despite being the filthy, corrupted thing that you are.”
Meg turned to look at him, with curiosity. It was almost like he expected his words to hurt her.
“You’re suffering greatly,” Lucifer continued, when he noticed the lack of reaction from Meg. “Would you like it to end? I can do that for you. I know I wasn’t the savior you were expecting. But I can do that much for you.”
“Well, aren’t you generous?” Meg said, and the bitterness in her voice was drowned by her grief. Lucifer offered her another smile, and then put a hand on her forehead.
“It’ll be but a second,” he said. “You might want to close your eyes.”
Meg was tempted to disobey him, but after a moment of hesitation, she did as he instructed. It wouldn’t make any difference. After all, her world had already ended.
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