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Dark Intentions

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Meg drew the last ward and slumped onto the floor. She was safe. For now anyway. She would never be completely safe again. Sooner or later…
She needed allies. It went against everything she believed in, but it was unavoidable. When it had just been Crowley half-heartedly hunting her, she could be an army of one. Now?

Getting to her feet she looked up at the ceiling, floors above her. That was what she was supposed to do, right? Her memories from doing it as a human were blurry.
"Clarence?" she whispered, then corrected herself. "Castiel? Can you hear me? Oh, who am I kidding? You--"
She was cut off by the sound of flapping wings. She felt a surge of panic and clutched her angel blade in her hand. Not that it would do any good against him…
It wasn't him though. It was an angel in a tan trench coat. Relief, pure and welcome, flooded her.
"Meg?" he asked, his lips turning up slightly. Hope and wariness were in his eyes.
"Hello, Clarence," she replied tiredly.
"It's been a long time."
"Why--" He broke off and peered at her, taking in her appearance. "You…"
She cut him off with a gesture. "Yeah. A lot has happened."
"I think perhaps you should start at the beginning."
"Do you have someplace we can go that is preferably heavily warded? Then we can sit and chat. Over coffee, even."
Cas looked away, grim. Meg felt a sinking feeling. This wasn't the same angel who had defended her from Crowley without hesitation.
But then why would he be? Years had passed. She certainly wasn't the same demon.
"Come with me," he finally said and placed a hand on her shoulder.

A nausea-inducing moment later she found herself in a large room. Machines were against the wall, and a map table was in the center of the room. Beyond that, she could see a library. Cas went over to a machine and pressed a few buttons. Meg felt the wards go up. They itched against her, but she welcomed it.
"Would you like to rest before beginning your story? You look like--"
"Shit? Thanks. You sure know how to make a girl feel pretty."
"You're beautiful no matter your disheveled state."
There was the angel she remembered.
"I'm fine," she lied. She was far from fine.
His expression showed he saw through her bravado. She crossed her arms and looked away.

He led her into the library and she took a seat across from him.
"What is this place?" she asked, leaning back in the chair.
"A bunker."
"Where'd you get a bunker?"
"It belonged to the Men of Letters. The Winchesters inherited it."
She knew about the group of nosy humans, of course. Abaddon had wiped them out before her disappearance.
"The Winchesters? Of course, you'd bring me to them. I needed help, Clarence, not--"
"You have nobody else, Meg."
"You really think they'll help me? They left me to die!" He looked shocked. So they hadn't told him. "Crowley stabbed me outside the crypt. The last thing I saw before passing out was them driving away."
"Crowley stabbed you?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah. Nearly killed me. It took years to heal."
"I'm glad you're alive."

Voices and footsteps sounded nearby and Cas tensed. Meg gripped her angel blade, but he shook his head. Fuck that. She was going to go down fighting.
She had a lot more to lose now.
"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted as he and Sam walked into the map room.
"Hello, Boys," Meg greeted them with a smirk.
Dean immediately scrambled for a weapon while Sam stared at her in shock.
"Meg? What the--" Dean started, charging towards her.
"Dean, no!" Cas stood and moved between the brothers and her. "I brought her here."
"What the fuck, Cas!"
"She needs help."
"She needs a swift death."
"Dean, wait. The last time we saw Meg she helped us," Sam said.
"She helped me many times. When nobody else would," Cas added.
Dean glared at Cas, his jaw clenched.
"Let's just hear why she's here. Okay? Then we can decide."
"Fine," Dean finally said. He pulled out his cell. "I'm telling Mom to stay away though."
Meg rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. Mamma Winchester isn't important."
Cas placed a warning hand on her shoulder and she flinched away. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she gave him a brilliant smile. "Can I get some water?"
Dean placed an angel blade on the table in front of him as he sat. "So. Start talking," 
Meg waited until Cas had returned and took a sip of water. She studied the glass, holding it in both hands, and not speaking.
"Hello?" Dean said.
Meg looked at him. "Lucifer is back ruling Hell."
Sam cleared his throat and Dean swore.
"You're sure?" Sam asked.
Dean leaned forward. "Why are you here then? You're his most loyal follower."
My Meg. Eternally loyal.
"Was," she replied, shoving away the pain and rage that began to overwhelm her.
"What happened? Did he finally realize you're only out for yourself?"
Meg gripped the glass again and it shattered. Shards cut into her hands, the blood mixing with water on the wood. Dean swore and Cas grabbed her hands.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She quickly pulled from his grasp. "Fine. Demon, remember?"
He busied himself with cleaning the table while Meg dug the glass out. The large pieces were easy to remove, but the smaller ones were embedded deep. As she watched, they rose to the surface and dropped from her hands, and the cuts closed, fully healed. She shuddered and clenched her fists in her lap.

"Okay, let's just...start at the beginning," Sam said when they were resettled.
"Should I get coffee?" Cas asked her.
"No, but I'll take some bourbon if you have it," she replied.
Cas frowned at her and shook his head.
She realized then that he knew. Of course, he did. He was frustratingly observant. He hadn't said anything though. Why?
Sam grabbed some beers from a nearby mini-fridge and gave Meg one. She held the bottle but didn't open it. Finally, she began to speak.