Summary: Fresh out of Hell, the demon known by Meg clothed herself in new flesh, intent on finding the Michael Sword and revenge while she was at it. How else could the day-dreaming demon find the cloaked Winchesters without resorting to their ungracefully aging surrogate-daddy? One-shot.
Characters: Meg!Demon and Bobby.
Spoilers: Season 5, and well, everything that came before then. So...everything.
Disclaimer: This seems so unnecessary to have to say, but you guessed it, I don't own Supernatural and haven't placed my name in any raffles to win the rights to the show either.
Author's Note: I was a big fan of Meg's line in the premiere, "These are the days of miracle and wonder, Dean. Our Father's amongst us. You know that we're all dreaming again for the first time since we were human? It's Heaven on earth...or Hell." But also was curious to see Bobby possessed; I thought that'd be fun to play with. So hopefully you enjoy somewhat.
Demons were dreaming.
The Apocalypse was setting in on the outskirts of the once humanly world as Lucifer was dancing a circle around his potential vessel, a circle as round as the halo which used to float above his graceful features before being sentenced by God to beyond torching flames; these flames sparked with sin, burned of betrayal, and imprisoned him with tormenting isolation away from his brothers and sisters, but most importantly, the Creator Himself. Now that Sam Winchester unlocked the bolts from his casket in Hell, demons were flying free out of of the underworld in their tunneling spectral forms to bury themselves in a fitting host to protect their defenseless Father before the angels could swarm in on him.
How to save the dear old and great Lucifer? The word about town was that the damn hunter Dean Winchester was bigger game than anyone had been lead to believe. He was going to be expected to wield the thunderous sword of the Archangel Michael and do the work of angels everywhere and annihilate Lucifer himself. So, to answer the question: Wipe the smug grin off Dean-boy's face, or at least kill him while he's wearing it.
The foul, spectral smoke of the demon truly identified in Hell as Azza funneled down the throat of a young virgin student, bearing her books in her possession as she vacated the home of her study partner, and possessed her deliciously innocent body. She didn't care about the poisonous pressure she was punishing this now-nameless girl with, this was merely her new costume as she pursued the hunter who bore power which threatened the existence of her father, and for sentimental sakes, she would reclaim the name Meg considering there was no point learning the identity of this new body. She wasn't infiltrating, merely assassinating.
Refusing to kill Dean Winchester in a concealing patterned shirt and khaki pants which screamed out the girl's chastity, the demon shamelessly scouted and stole new wardrobe before catching up with many of her demonic minions who believed in her strategy and trusted her. After all, she'd been out on the field with the enemy before; if anyone truly knew, it was her. They were instructed to contact her through a goblet of blood, the more innocent would lead to better reception, if they stumbled upon the sword's location sooner, but they were all Plan B in her true charred black eyes. She, with the help of two demons, was going straight for the heart of the Winchesters – that one last heartstring which hadn't been torn away from them yet – Bobby Singer, the bastard who refastened her seat-belt on her return roller coaster to Hell by breaking her spell when he burned her binding brand off of Sam's flesh.
They traveled quickly to Sioux Falls, Indiana, where they trespassed into the old hunter's grounds, and Meg grew reminiscential about where she murdered the tired dog in the front yard, snapping its neck with only the hands of the true Meg Masters and her own personal demonic strength. Oh, the good times. She turned to her henchmen and warned quietly, "Watch where you're stepping. This guy leaves a lot of crap around his house to scoop up our kind." She returned her attention to the door before, and she debated knocking for a second, then kicked her foot to the door and it swung open, slamming against the wall.
She ushered her bald, thin-eyed companion in first and would allow him to walk into any recently drawn Devil's Traps, knowing she'd be able to break him free of the sigil immediately if she was outside it herself. They all walked in cautiously, minding their surroundings, when Meg asked aloud, "Knock, knock! Anyone home?" They continued to invade and Meg glimpsed the broken sigil she'd once been lured into on the ceiling and grew even more paranoid of another trap being laid about elsewhere with the broken one only existing to give demons hope – hope they could experience once again on a more humanly level now that their Father was amongst them.
Meg watched as the bald olive-skinned demon turned a corner where he was greeted with a heavy splash of Holy water to his current human mask, followed by many wisps of steam bringing attention to the poisonous intruder inside. Bobby came into view and she quickly called out to the other demon, "Sic him already!"
She watched as the demon responded to her canine command, evacuating the dark-haired mechanic's body and if she cared, she'd now be able to learn his eye color now that they weren't devoured in the void-less demonic vision, but it held no importance. The demon's essence traveled towards Bobby as the previously-possessed body fell to the floor and the hunter raised an arm to shield himself, seemingly defenseless. The spectral body pounced on Bobby, blanketing him entirely and Meg mused that once the smoke cleared, the hunter would be missing because he was just that skilled enough to pull that famous Houdini-Be-Gone trick out from under that worn-out trucker's cap. The essence swirled around Bobby and eventually was repelled. The demon sought its recovery back into its previous body, instantly rising to a firm stance, masked in anger over his defeat.
The hunter grinned and Meg couldn't help but do the same as she walked towards him, "Trust me, there's no way I thought it was going to be that easy, old man." Both demons recovered and just kept their stance, too intimidated to challenge him. "It's sad, but if you want something done right..." she raised her new hand, unleashing a telekinetic force that whatever form of protection he had on him held no defenses against. Bobby slammed flat against the wall, pinned down by her power. She smiled with immaculately snow-white clean teeth and widened her dark eyes, "...Don't leave it to these guys." She turned to the bald-demon who had possessed a fireman while on the scene, "It appears he has a chain on the door. See what you can do about unlocking it so our friend can step in."
"Not exactly takin' applications for roommates, pumpkin," Bobby spat, clearly attempting to keep a brave face as if Meg and her underlings would simply turn around and flee. Quite the opposite, as the firefighter-wearing demon began to pat the elderly hunter down as if he was a cop searching for narcotics.
Meg crept towards him, swaying with a touch of seduction in her hips and smacked the trucker's cap off of his head. "Wow, that felt good. I always hated that damn thing." Just as he was about to spit something back, she smacked him with reasonable force that was more for the hell of it and not just silencing him.
Flushing with violation of personal space, Bobby didn't bother trying to fight against the invisible bindings or the demon running his hands in all the wrong places. "Sam's pet-bitch; the lying wolf in human's clothing. You weren't havin' much fun as a blonde or with that other girl, were ya?" He took a quick breath, glaring at what he believed to be the demon Ruby's new host body, not having seen her since the night Dean was freed from Hell. "How'd ya get Sam out the panic room?"
The demon wearing the brunette virgin laughed as her eyes rolled to the ceiling once more before dropping back down to the hunter who'd broken her binding spell, banishing her back to the pit. "Oh no, Bobby Dukes. That was just my little tag-team partner in all this apocalypse-business, but she's yet another demon who went and got herself counted out before all the good stuff started. More riches for me." She steadily walked towards him, easily in control of her new meat-suit, and taunted her prey with a break in speech, leaving him in mystery. She poked his heart then dug her nail deeper where she felt the increasing hammering beneath his aged flesh. "Me and you have history. We used to throw back drinks together, but you spiked mine once with Holy water when I was playing a little game of Sam-I-Am. Ring any bells?"
The minion demon continued to search Bobby who's eyes never shuttered in fear, only blinked out of human nature, but glared at Meg as he remembered who she was. "You..." He seemed to refuse to call her by any of the names she adopted for herself. "Ya got whatcha git for wearin' my family. How was the pit? Shoulda been toasty around that time of year."
"You'll know what Hell is like soon enough; you can be our very own senior citizen as we bring our hot and quaint activities to a planet near you. Not sure if you got the news, but seal sixty-six? Sam broke it for us, bless him," she stopped as the surprised washed over Bobby like a tide, nearly drowning him in his mourning for the world. "We're all just crawling out now on vendetta streaks for being banished back into the pit."
Bobby feigned a sarcastic chuckle, looking side-to-side at the demons before returning his tired eyes to Meg. "Would I happen to know your dance partners here? I lose count of the names and fake faces of your kind."
The smirk refused to vanish from the demon's face as her shoulders descended in a defeated manner, "I was looking for a pal of yours, but couldn't find her. She's responsible for killing your bitch-wife." As the hunter struggled against his demonic bounds, spitting profanities, Meg turned to her comrade and asked, "What is taking so damn long?" Meg stepped towards Bobby and patted him down herself, winking at him when she reached a personal space, and paid some attention to his watch and ripped it off his wrist. "Ah. Gotcha."
Pasted underneath the watch was a flat-shaped, ornate-engraved anti-possession charm. She threw the watch to the other side of the room and patted his shoulder. "Good job hiding that thing. After all, when was the last time a demon stopped to ask you the time?"
It seemed as if he refused to retaliate on the comment about his wife, knowing it'd only give her the satisfaction she purred for. Instead, he made a sound that resembled a growl before muttering, "I did have one smart ass..."
The demon clapped her hands, "Oh, joy. Don't you admire how we can stare you down and run our mouths while accepting what was once a terrible, awful, God-forsaken fate?"
Bobby tried fighting against his telekinetic restraints, but he was glued to his patterned walls; there was no escaping what would soon be a foul demonic taste on his tongue and in his stomach, burying him in his own mind. "That's funny. I seem to remember you willing to sell out your Daddy at the time you inconsistent hellcat. What's wrong? Mommy slept around and there's an absence of DNA tests for future spawns in the pit?"
The grin finally vanished from her face as Meg remembered what had felt like an eternity of pain within each mind-stabbing and physical pain she suffered in Hell after being banished back by the dead words of this hunter for nearly ruining the grand plan. "I served my time for betraying my Yellow-Eyed father. He was the one who turned me, he was my father, but Lucifer is the father of fathers to my kind as much as God is yours."
"This is one hella punishment," Bobby said. "You're actually breaking down your dysfunctional, poisonous family tree for me. Not exactly the Brady's, are ya?"
Meg turned her back on him, speaking to him as if he was a member at one of her AA meetings, trying to influence him with her words. "If we decide to keep you alive long enough, you'll get to see the worst of the bunch. Because let me tell ya, Santa Baby, I'm dreaming up one hell of a white Apocalypse. I've been a good demon, earned my spot on the naughty list and everything, and my Father knows that I'm racing to save his precious neck from any harm. As soon as I destroy the weapon fated to take him out, I'll be the queen in his new kingdom."
She quit her pace, keeping her back to him, but looked over her shoulder, "But if my math is right, you owe me. You and your boys wrecked my old body. So, someone has to pay. An eye for an eye, a body for a body, and believe it or not, but I could really use your sagging flesh to get close enough to Dean without that damn knife around and I need to be sure that Sam is sapped of his Ghostbuster-abilities. So..."
The mechanic-wearing demon evacuated his body once more, but didn't possess Bobby just yet; he was waiting on the order. Instead, the foul, quiet roaring of its demonic essence hovered above the fallen body, taunting its enemy who stood wide-eyed.
The demon Meg thrived in Bobby's acceptance of defeat as a disguise to not allow her to see him beg for mercy. She admired that. "I'll cut you a deal though – we won't put you to sleep like the tired dog you are. We'll let you stay awake for the show of what your hands are going to personally do for Dean-o. And let me tell you, I have quite a couple ideas in mind. The dreams I've had of this day stretch beyond just wanting to fall to Lucifer's feet and kiss them until the end of days...Dreams mixed with the beyond-realities in Hell are impossible to explain to you simple-folk." She waved to Bobby and smiled, "Buh-bye for now. We'll talk again after you kill Dean for me – and lemme say, you really are raping me of that succulent opportunity."
A black storm charged towards Bobby, forcing itself through what was his tight-lipped mouth, roaring of rough winds and sparking in random places. The hunter couldn't deny the demons the scream that tickled their adopted bodies as the smoke buried itself inside him, cementing him to his now grave of a mind. His eyes were now void of humanly tones and age, replaced with the hell-crisp black. The Bobby-wearing demon removed itself from the wall. He walked towards Meg and said, "He's very loud." He placed a finger in his ear, scratching the insides. "He's trying to exorcise me from within." He chuckled his own chuckle, unable to mimic Bobby's.
"Good. Be his lifeguard, don't let him sink into unconsciousness. I dreamt of him killing himself after brutalizing the enemy. Two bastard hunters, one stone. Sammy is different business, of course. He's not to be touched, though I may hardly be able to resist myself if given a small opportunity." She scoured the room and walked over to the book-littered table where Bobby's phone sat. She flipped it open, filing through the contacts and offered the phone to the proper demon as she selected a number. "Tell Dean you wanna meet up with him." She couldn't wait to see the aged hunter's hands gloved with Dean Winchester's blood.
End of One-Shot.
Author's Note: Couldn't get this scene out of my head. Sure, it mimics the original Dean-Meg scene, but this is what my fingers wrote. I blame them for being unoriginal. If you liked, disliked, have advice, or input, I'd appreciate hearing what you have to say – whether it's a review or a personal message.