In a surprising turn of events, Cas is the one who punches the one who insults his lovers, and both Sam and meg are surprised
this is meg/sam/cas, ok, and for anyone confused, it’s based off this~ this fic makes absolutely no sense though, so whatever, i just felt like writing it~ i kind of like this verse??????? let me know how you feel about it.
From many years personal experience, Sam knows that the man standing before him is a demon; he doesn’t even need to see the black eyes.
“So, which one’a you’s the whore? I reckon it’s pretty boy over here. He looks like a big puppy trailing along after his masters, willing to give Heaven and Hell anything they want.” He licks his lips as his eyes trail up and down Sam’s body. Cas is quick to pull Sam behind him, though significantly smaller than Sam he is, his light and wingspan more than make up for it. “The things your big brother has planned for you, boy…you’ll be begging for death.
“But you,” he says to Meg, an ugly smirk curling his lips. “It could just as well be you. You always were Hell’s slut, weren’t you? Couldn’t get enough, could you? Needed a taste of Heaven and tainted human flesh. Wouldn’t your daddy be proud.”
Sam also knows that one of his two supernatural lovers is going to blow their top in a matter of seconds. As much as Sam can actually handle himself, the two on either side of him will do it for him; they protect him before he can even get a word in. Every time.
But what he needs is to talk this scum down and keep Meg from killing him. The last thing they need is Dean on their heels. Again. They just lost him again. If one of them spills even a drop of this demon’s blood, Dean will find them.
They also learned that from personal experience.
Ever since the King of Hell took Dean as his Knight, Dean’s been insufferable. He’s hard to shake, and Sam’s still unwilling to let his brother die. The demon and angel walking with him know that; they won’t touch Dean. They’re willing to find a cure to get rid of the Mark that’s turned his older brother into a demon.
Crowley and Dean send demons after them left and right. Mainly, they just stay back. They watch them from afar until Meg or Cas slips away for a short period to send them back to their King with a message. Not necessarily a nice message, Sam had had the pleasure of seeing once, but a message nonetheless.
From what they gather, Dean is recruiting knights. He wants a force to command. He wants to be in power, but he doesn’t want powerless grunts. He wants the best of the best. The demons he sends after Sam, Meg, and Cas are a test. He wants Sam brought back to him. He wants to take Sam away from the angel and demon sitting on each of his shoulders and claim him as his own again.
He wants Sam mindlessly addicted to demon blood; to Dean’s blood.
The first demon to bring Sam back – Dean prefers completely unscathed, but he’ll take what he can get if it means having his little brother back – gets to be Dean’s second in command. If Hell had a newspaper, Sam figures it would be on the front page everyday until he’s captured. And then it will be all about Sam having been captured.
He doesn’t want to find out.
“Excuse me?” Meg asks, but surprisingly she’s not moving. Sam’s exerting no strength holding onto her shoulder because she’s not pushing him back. She’s small, but not a force to be reckoned with. She’s got a wicked smile and a mean punch. “My daddy would rip you limb from limb and let you live through it all until you died from the pain to hear you talk like that about me.” Her voice is calm and cool, but if Sam could see her true face, he imagines he’d see fire. “But I don’t like the way you’re talking about my sunflower here.”
Sam makes a mistake then. He turns away from the demon to look at Meg; he watches as she raises an amused eyebrow, one corner of her lips lifting into a smirk.
“I don’t think feathers likes it either, do you, Clarence?”
Sam’s too slow to turn, couldn’t move quick enough to grab onto Cas’ shoulder to pull him back. He watches in absolute horror and utter disdain as Castiel punches the demon right under the chin, sending his head back and his feet off the ground. But Cas doesn’t stop there; he uses his other hand to grab the lapels of the demon’s jacket to pull him back.
“Never,” he growls in a voice Sam has never heard before in the years he’s known the angel, “Speak of these two in that manner again.” He drags him close so they’re eye to eye, the man’s legs bent awkwardly, their noses almost touching. “I’d say to send your knight a message, but you won’t be around long enough. We’ll see him sooner than you.”
With the hand that would be broken had Castiel not been an angel, he covers the demon’s face. His palm glows like fire and a bright, white light bursts from it and right through the demon. He burns the demon right out of the body it was possessing until it’s nothing but a shell, eyes burnt out, black, and smoking. He drops it to the ground in a heap of singed flesh, and turns around to face Meg and Sam.
“Clarence,” Meg breathes, voice nothing but a husky whisper from behind Sam. “You know just how to turn on a lady, don’t you? Makin’ me all tingly.”
“We have to move,” Castiel replies, blue eyes burning right into Sam’s very soul. “Your brother’s almost here.”
