Chapter Text
The windows in the small cabin rattled as the rain and wind beat against them, but the storm wasn’t the only thing that was making them rattle.
Inside, a tangle of passionately gripping arms and legs, bare skin on bare skin, and needy moans and sighs had moved from up against various walls to tables to countertops, then to the couch and finally to the living room floor, hardly ever separating so that it was almost as if the two beings were one entity. That was exactly how they liked it, anyway, at least at times such as this.
Gripping hands and shuddering cries eventually gave way to something a little softer, and the angel and demon simply lie side by side, still connected but for now just gazing at each other.
“Well,” Meg drawled, lazily content, tracing the tip of her finger down the sharp, chiseled contours of Castiel’s face. “We didn’t break anything this time. Point in our favor.”
“I don’t…” Castiel shook his head, still a little addled and also apparently confused by the terminology she was using. “I don’t think that’s how that works, Meg.”
“Yeah?” Meg raised an eyebrow and smirked, set on teasing him for right now. “And how does it work?”
“That’s something I’m still trying to figure out,” he admitted, not catching on to her teasing. “The system isn’t exactly set in stone yet.”
Over a year ago, Castiel’s adopted son, a Nephilim named Jack, helped Sam and Dean Winchester to defeat the universe’s corrupted creator and take his place. It was a battle that the seraph still didn’t have all of the details about, since he had been very much dead at the time, but he had been assured several times that the fight had been harrowing and hard-won. Not that it mattered, as Jack had proven himself to be a most capable leader, ruler, and God, even if he still needed some guidance along the way.
That was where Castiel had come back into the picture. As soon as Jack had the power to do so, he had plucked Cas from the Empty once again, this time seemingly for good. He needed the extra help in reforming and remaking Heaven, he had said, and he didn’t trust anyone with that responsibility more than his father…and Jack had missed him. Of course, Castiel had pointed out that when he’d remade Heaven, it wasn’t exactly a good thing, but Jack had insisted that any experience was experience that would help him. And so, the reformation had begun.
Serving the human souls had come first, so the reconstruction had mostly involved taking down the rigid structures that Heaven had once been made of, replacing the carefully crafted illusions with the true reunions that many people expected when they arrived. Eventually, though, Jack decided they needed even more help, and he’d asked Castiel to compile a list of trustworthy angels that were in the Empty. Upon compiling that list, Cas had asked for a particular favor: To bring back a trustworthy demon as well.
At least, that was how he’d told the story to Meg, and he’d never really been one for spinning yarns, so she believed him.
Since then they’d been all but inseparable; Castiel had said it had to do with how much he owed her from all that she’d done for him, which she would freely admit to finding cute but still wasn’t sure exactly how to handle. Luckily, so much of their time had been spent making up what they “owed” each other that she didn’t have to confront it.
“So you’re still figuring it out.” Meg’s voice was quiet, uncharacteristically so, but she didn’t have it in her to scold herself for it. These moments of slight melancholy had become more frequent in her mind since she was brought back, and she was still trying to figure that out to no avail.
“No,” Castiel replied, just as quiet. “The greater purpose of it has yet to be revealed.”
This was something that they had found they had in common with their returns, this fixation on purpose, on what they were supposed to do in the world. There still weren’t answers for the question. But the demon decided not to think about that right now and instead to amuse herself.
“Well, then,” Meg said, playfully squeezing his hips with her thighs, feeling smug satisfaction when his eyes fluttered shut. “Tell me one new thing you do know about how it all works since the last time you talked about it, Clarence.”
Castiel was quiet, and Meg knew he was composing himself and gathering his thoughts. “Rowena and Jack have been working closely together to restore one of the older workings of the Veil.”
Ah, yes. Rowena was the new Queen of Hell. Meg didn’t begrudge her for taking the throne, since she hadn’t really wanted it anyway, and the former witch did seem to have attained it through honest means. “Oh? What would that be?”
“They agreed to allow the Veil to thin for twenty-four hours, starting at midnight on Halloween,” he explained. “For all spirits. They think that maybe giving them the chance to finish some of their business one night of the year might delay transformations into vengeful ghosts.”
“Sounds smart,” she said, though something didn’t seem to be settling in her stomach. “You know…midnight on Halloween is in just a few hours.”
“It is,” Castiel said, his eyes narrowing adorably, as though that would help him to decipher where Meg was going with this.
“Don’t you think we ought to hole up somewhere?” She blinked innocently, then squeezed his hips again. “In case some big, spooky ghosts come knocking on the door.”
“Oh.” The angel’s face flushed. “I suppose you do have a point.”
Before Meg realized it, they materialized from the floor to their bed upstairs, and their fun began anew.
A couple of hours later, Meg lie asleep in their bed, and Castiel was watching her. These were the moments that he felt were the most precious, at least to him. Ever since he’d convinced Jack to bring her back, and ever since they had taken things to the level they had intended before he lost her, he simply had to watch her sleep. She’d explained to him once that she didn’t really need to when he expressed worry, and that she just found it a refreshing way to pass the time. All he knew for sure was that she looked more peaceful than he had ever seen her.
That peace was all Cas wanted for her. She had been through so very much. Of course there were things she had done that weren’t the paragon of good, but he had more than his share of those, too. And he’d seen for himself just how much she had changed, even if she didn’t seem sure how to acknowledge this herself.
Truth be told, he felt a strong devotion to her, much like his devotion to the Winchesters, but this didn’t feel as cloying or as tethering. There was something freeing about it. He’d realized long ago that he loved her, but he hadn’t said it just yet. He didn’t know exactly how she would respond to that. And he wasn’t sure there was a need to put it into words. He tried to let his actions speak to that instead. But sometimes, like right now, he wondered whether that was enough.
Downstairs, the clock struck twelve. Somewhat suddenly feeling quite tired himself, Castiel laid down behind Meg and closed his eyes.