Title: "Another kind of angel." Author or
Author: Winchester_Mcdowell
Category: Supernatural.
Rating: All groups
Summary: Dean have not seen (or has lived) everything.
17
not know how to do this time.
's like hyperventilating. You know you have to breathe because if you do not die, but do not obey your lungs and you drown with no remedy.
Look high and the windows boarded up with a couple of old boards. It is an ugly place. There is hardly a light bulb hanging from a wire rope from the ceiling to eight feet of soil. She would have left a blanket and something that at some remote period must have been a cojíny now just a pile of clothes crammed.
Have you seen this woman before in his dreams, fixing her black eyes, two bottomless pits. Meg. Thus the name of your father. Not that it has said. Just so. The woman advances toward her with a false confidence that could fool anyone. She did not. Smells like fear.
"Hello, dear," he says cautiously stopping distance. Behind him two tall men, demons, Angie knows, ready to follow his orders. "How do you feel? A little more answer? "
Women (Meg, it reminds herself again Angie) has a bowl in his hands. Angie set her eyes on him before answering.
"I want to go home."
A mock pout formed on her lips.
"Sorry, honey, that's not possible"
"I want to go home!" Angie stands, this time looking directly at the devil's under the dress skin. In its motion, gives Meg a start. Oh, yes. Fears. Angie knows at this point that has to risk a little more. "If I let go, I'll dust!". And it might have been much more effective staging if the hand did not tremble so recklessly by pointing the finger, and his upper lip almost imperceptibly jump into spasm after the words. The devil looks at her intently for a moment and then leaves the bowl on the floor.
"So ..." crosses his arms. "... Do it."
But Angie can not not know, therefore stands still, as challenging as it can within its panic. Then try going to the door and the devil will plant the front with minimal effort, paralyzing it with their presence.
"Go back to your corner, baby. We both know you will not do anything now. " Angie
not even dare look up. The smell of fear in the woman is gone and only the scent of evil. He takes one last look toward the door with their tabs and back to back.
Meg leans toward her seeking the face hidden.
"We could become great friends, if you act like you," he says and their encouragement of sulfur and ash hits the nostrils of the child.
then goes and picks up the bowl left on the floor and places it in front of Angie.
"Bebe."
Angie looks inside the vessel, to the viscous liquid in which Meg has been a whirlwind with his finger and immediately guess what it is. It makes a hand, trying to evade the corner floor that serves as trench and returns what little there is inside your stomach.
"Are you going to give me trouble, dear?"
For answer, Angie is a ball against his refuge in the blanket wrapping and stays there. Meg has no patience for that. Turn your head and gives a quiet order to his men. One of them, bald and stocky, advances to make the attempt to grab the girl. She closes her eyes, screaming and kicking. And then, just the delicate arm around him with his giant hand strength after snatching the blanket, the guy does poof! and disappears. His shadow is stamped on the wall Old Brick. The bowl fell from the hands of Meg on the floor and turns on its base pouring a portion of its contents around. The demon's eyes and mouth open in awe and the other man behind him, is far away in search of the output.
But nothing else happens. Angie
dropped back, panting, too weak to do anything else, because he knows how to use that it has inside, cause sometimes and sometimes not. And this time it is not. It's like throat singing instead of the chest and stomach. Sounds nice until your throat is going to shit and only get gurgling and pain that does not let you talk decently for days. She likes to sing. He did with Dean in the cabin, while completing the tasks, as they sat on the bench in the entry or traveling in the van. And if the throat stung, Dean gave him to drink an herbal tea with honey limóny miracles. Strange the cabin, to Iosephus. Strange evening walk through the forest, the timid insect found under leaf litter, small animals who came to sniff and the way the sun was shining through the tops tree before hiding behind the rocky mass of the mountain. Above all, extrañaa dad.
Now alone, weak, in that ugly place, dark and wet that has nothing to do with their cottage. With the bricks of the wall before their eyes, he wondered whether the sun will be as she remembers.
Moving is an ordeal, but it does. Meg is looking. It is clear that you understand what's happening, or rather what does not, because his face is twisted into a smirk that sends chills the spine of the child.
"It's not so easy, eh, little thing?" One step forward and Angie back the same, on hands and knees, wobbly, again in search of their hideout. Meg turns to the other, who already has one hand on the doorknob to exit with a sign urging him to return to work. The devil certainly a moment but finally they are approached with cautious step. When Meg turns to Angie again, wears a mask of false tenderness.
"Hey, sweetie, you're weak. What that if we make stronger? This will help you "and hands him the bowl with the remaining viscous liquid and nauseating.
Angie back as you can until your back meets the wall and has an arm to the face to protect his mouth brown reliably while denying his head.
"Oh, come on. What about table manners? "And adds, singing," The bad girls are not going to heaven. "
A gesture, the other forward on the start Pequena wall again immobilized with an arm around her small torso and holding her chin in her free hand, forcing her to open her mouth and keep it there. Meg leaned over the bowl ready.
"Now, you're going to be a good girl."
Before the liquid in your mouth and walk the way down her throat, Angie sees the metallic smell of blood. Still trying to oppose, to launch new kicking, spitting in the latter case. The oil thing is like invading your throat obstructing the passage of air into his lungs. The arches will gain nothing. Meg makes swallowing without thinking twice. It's done.
hardly realize when they let slip to the floor and his corner again. And now he's crying while trying to clear his mouth of the other crap that has been in it.
"Daddy" whispered between sobs. "Please, Daddy. Get me out of here. Where are you? I need you. "
But Dad is not there. The door does not open and he does not go cutting off heads and gutting demons. Dad is not there and Angie go to sleep dreaming that he is back in the House and Mrs. Milton Milton looks at grief and disapproval, arms crossed from the foot of his bed, shaking with Despite his head side to side.
"You should not have allowed this."
flames rise on both sides of the bed when the house collapses.
"Help me," he asked amid the tears.
"I can not say the woman and then the expression of strength and pain disappears again and is no longer the lady who holds out a hand for his cheek, it's Dad. "I can not."
The first time you wake up, are back on it, throwing more filth into her mouth, forcing her to swallow up close and re-entering into unconsciousness calling Dean off sobbing.
The second time, Meg has a trickle of blood dripping from his wrist open up the bowl. When realizes that the girl was seen devotes a wink.
"My secret ingredient. It does work. "
By the third, fear and grief have begun to become a rage bubbling inside.
When Meg goes to her, now without the support of another demon, he turns the bowl with his hand and all content is lost in the soil.
"Look what you've done, brat! Do you think that these bundles of meat are eternal? They are not blood and milk milking cows damn! "
" Fuck! Fuck you, fucking bitch! "
" Language, girl! ".
"My dad will kill you!"
"Your daddy left you!"
"Lies"
Meg opens her arms and looking around theatrically.
"Well, where is it then?"
"He ... he will come."
"No, honey. Not coming. I left here ... for me. "
"Lie! Why do that? "
" Oh, honey. Because you're not like him. "
the devil's words are an ice cold dagger in the heart of the girl.
"That's not true," says just about the sound of your breathing. "I am your daughter"
"You're an abomination, sweetness. Like his brother Sam. And, what he did with it? Sent him to hell. You knew that, right? "
She knows that Uncle Sam was in hell. Why Why? Dad has not said. Could it be then ...?
"Dad ... it sent there?
"Yes, honey. Is all that shit in your head about doing the right thing
"But ... Dad loves"
"Yes, I love."
must remember to force the demons lie. Dean has said before. Meg is a demon, but no longer can see its true face. But now lying when he says that Dad loves to Uncle Sam. So what is the truth when he says that dad will not come for her?
"I am your daughter."
"No, honey. Sorry. Not so. You're a burden. " Go up the sleeve of his jacket revealing her wrist and the nail of the appropriate opposite hand to open the previous scar cut deep. "We love you, Angie. Not as your mother, not like Milton, not Dean. His love is flawed, imperfect, doomed to failure. They have good intentions but in the end ... always fail. "
Angie still, hypnotized, the way that the dark liquid undertaken at the mercy of gravity to the fingers on his head while Meg repeat the echoes of his father's promise never to be separated . She believed him. He lied.
"Do not fail, Angie."
And now she was alone.
"We will always be with you. All of us. And you'll be our little girl Queen. " Blood continues to flow slowly from his wrist while the offer. Angie thinks of his years of confinement in Milton House, in their months of freedom on the cabañay all seems very distant dream, the dream of someone who is not her, a borrowed dream. Watch the wound for a moment and then leans down and drink. Suddenly, Meg and does not smell. And that thing down his throat, and does not taste too horrible. Spread the inside of your body quickly as if it was alive and like thousands of voices speaking in unison in his ears calling her by name, hugging, crying for her. Drinks to quench the hunger that leads in and of that only now has a conscience.
"Come, gentle, open your eyes to me," he hears the voice of Meg.
When the eyelids move under them there are two black eyes like two deep holes. Meg smiles.
"We love you, honey. You will be very, very happy with us. "
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