Meg (meganmasters) wrote in payline, @ 2014-01-17 16:28:00 |
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The waiting had nearly killed her, but she needed to be sure. She knew his schedule. Knew his habits. Though he tended to stay up later, particularly on nights he spent with her, she knew he’d have to sleep eventually, and that would be her chance to find him. She wasn’t sure why this was so important to her. No. That was a lie. One she couldn’t even tell to herself. She knew exactly why she needed to see him with her own eyes. The obviousness of the situation was not lost on her. He had pulled away. He was no longer sleeping in his own bed. He had found someone else. Someone human, most likely, and infinitely more appropriate for him in his current state than she was. It was no more than she’d expected to occur after all. She wouldn’t let it hurt her. No, she had settled firmly into the anger stage of acceptance and dug in, refusing to let go. She needed to see him. Needed to see the reason he had abandoned her. Then she could walk away and forget him. Or if not forget, ignore. But no. She’d grown impatient. The sun was setting and she couldn’t wait any longer. Slowly, deliberately, she rolled out the map on the scarred wooden top of her long dining room table. It was absurdly colorful, with the attractions of the strip done up in fanciful caricatures and illustrations. Over the spot that marked the Mandalay Bay, she had tacked a full map of the hotel itself. The whole thing seemed at odds with the heavy candles she used to weigh down it’s edges. Waving her hand impatiently, the lights went out and the candles flickered to life. They guttered ominously in the wind coming in from the shattered windows and Meg practically growled in annoyance. The place was falling down around her ears and the only person she cared about was nowhere to be found. With as cold as it had been, she had been a little worried. Of course, she supposed she needn’t have done so. Someone was clearly keeping him warm these days. She swallowed down the jealousy, biting the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood, and tried to focus. In a deep, purposeful tone, she began to chant. ”Igne animam ducere lucernarum dico me ita ut oportet Castiel Secundum animam per sidera testor, deduc me in stellis ut Castiel, oportet Ex anima illius fragrantiam, deduc me odor invoco ut Castiel, oportet Cor eius ab anima, dico me ducere ad naturam, ut Castiel, oportet Ex vox de anima, et deducet me ad scientiam, ut Castiel, oportet Oculus per par, Auroras, deduc me dicam, ut Castiel, oportet Et ad deos suos, pro deum atque me animus, ut Castiel, oportet” Slowly at first,then with more gusto, flames erupted around the edges of the map. The longer she chanted, the higher they rose and the faster they devoured the paper map, leaving behind black smears of soot and burned wood on the tabletop. As the chant ended, Meg watched the map slowly burn down to almost nothing. No trace of the Manday remained. He was not in the hotel. Not right now at any rate. No, as the flames finally flickered and died, Meg reached down for the small piece of the map that remained and felt her heart constrict in an odd way. He was at the fountain. ~ ~ ~ The change in climate once she had left the grounds of the Mandalay was almost hilarious in it’s suddenness. From snow into desert heat. She applauded whoever had done such a pretty piece of mayhem. She supposed the fact that he wasn’t in the hotel was to his favor. Perhaps this was how he had been keeping warm. Maybe it wasn’t about someone else at all. Foolish hope. No sense setting herself up like that, and yet she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop that sudden, all too human feeling from creeping into her heart. Maybe...just maybe…. As she approached the fountain, the loud crash of water and the fading strains of music drowned out all other sound. And then, quite suddenly, it was done. The show had ended and everything was silent. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. At least...she thought so. Faintly she heard the sound of a woman talking, and the deeper rumble of a voice that she knew far too well. Too intimately. Her heart plummeted. This was what she had feared. She should turn and save herself further pain. Bury this down with every other indignity she had ever faced. She would not play the jealous lover. Still, she couldnt’ seem to help herself. She crept around the side of the low wall that hemmed the fountain, moving stealthily towards the voices. And there they were. He was barely visible in the growing gloom but she knew it was him. The woman, flat on her back in the dirt like a common whore, curly blonde hair fanned out in a halo around her head. Meg made it as far as the bushes that clustered close to the edge of the front of the fountain before her legs simply wouldn’t carry her any further. The anger was too much. She wanted to hurt someone. She wanted to hurt the man and woman laying in the grass still far too close for her comfort. She wanted to get away and never see either of them ever again. Only none of those things was really an option. She couldn’t kill her. Wouldn’t kill him. Couldn’t run away. Her knees buckled and she sank to the ground. She could hardly see, her eyes flickering back and forth from normal to black so fast she had no time to adjust. Wedging herself down into the foliage, she put her hands to her head and waited for it to pass. She needed a plan. She needed to know what to do, where to go. Back to Lucifer. That was the obvious answer. And the one she clung to like a last ray of hope. If he would take her, then none of this would matter. She’d have a cause again. A purpose. She wouldn’t have to feel these things because they would no longer matter to her. It was a good plan. It was the only plan. So why where her legs still refusing to move. They finished long before she was decided. She heard them approaching and her eyes slid fully to black, the amount of rage and hurt she felt bringing the demon to the surface and burying every ounce of her that was human. She wanted to rend and tear and destroy the things that had hurt her, like a feral dog. And then she saw them. Really saw them. The strangest mixture of pure joy and ultimate hatred flooded through her. Joy because he had not done this to her. He had not left her for whoever this blonde bit of nothing was. Hatred because someone had taken him from her. One of her own kind. She could see the blackness swirling beneath his skin, behind his eyes, and suddenly every odd comment made sense. Every strange bit of behavior now had an explanation. Meg took a deep breath and counted to a hundred. Then she did it again. And a third time. By the time she reached 600, she felt calm enough to move again. Shit was about to really hit the fan. Her secrets would be out for everyone to see, of that she had no doubt. But she had no choice. She couldn’t kill the demon without killing Cas, and she couldn’t perform an exorcism herself. But she’d need a plan. A good one. One that thing wouldn’t see coming. |