Song Remains the Same

Chapter 66: Slow Burn

"Take this nothingness from me."
- RED

Three Weeks Later
Flint, Michigan
3:40am

What the hell? Dean Winchester blinked a couple times, woozy, coming to and not remembering getting knocked out in the first place. It was dark in here... last he recalled, he and Sam had been hanging around in an abandoned old house while discussing (well, arguing over) the whole working-for-Crowley thing and where it was getting them: abso-freakin-lutely nowhere. Then Sam had disappeared when Dean had turned around... and sixth sense telling him something was off, Dean had crept through the abandoned house with his gun drawn. Someone must have gotten the jump on him from behind.

Son of a bitch his head hurt! Dean stifled a pained groan as he looked up. Across from him, Sam was regaining consciousness too—he was tied to a chair just like Dean was and brothers faced each other, six feet between them. A man dressed in leather with a bald head stood in the corner of the dark and dilapidated room and watched them closely—his eyes were black as the night outside the ramshackle house they were in. Not in the mood for any of it, Dean let out a foul breath. Great, more freakin' demons. Just what he'd wanted.

"What now?" he asked churlishly, sending a glare at stunt demon number two. Was this one of Crowley's henchmen or what?

Clicking footsteps sounded behind Dean. Someone was slowly waltzing into the room but he couldn't see who. Were those high heels? Sam's eyes narrowed as his eyes caught sight of the owner of the footsteps. "Well this is a surprise," he commented darkly.

Dean craned his neck sideways and up, and the second he saw her, his blood curdled and pure hatred overcame him. "Evil bitch," he muttered, clenching his jaw and straining against the ropes. She had two more shady looking demon henchmen with her. This was not good.

"Keep sweet talking me this could go a whole new direction," Meg drawled through a self-assured smirk, leaning down beside him. Some of her hair trailed along his shoulder and touched his neck in a whisper before she straightened.

"Meg," Dean said, smiling coldly to keep from flying into a rage. "I've been dying to see you again!" This was the demon who had killed Ellen and Jo and as such, Dean had the most brutal of revenge murders on the mind.

"Well, here I am, big boy," the demon replied, sashaying over to stand in front of him. She bit her lip and let a dark eyebrow arch up, voice dripping with suggestiveness. "So, what should we do now?"

"How about I rip you to shreds?" Dean suggested.

"Kinky, I like!" Meg returned lightly, enjoying the clear hatred in Dean's eyes. "A little Q and A first, if you don't mind. Where's your boss?"

Sam scoffed and huffed loud enough that Meg turned to look at him. "You think we work for somebody?" he asked scornfully.

"I happen to know for a fact you've been juggling Crowley's orphans," Meg replied easily, undaunted. Sam and Dean exchanged a brief glance. Great, so that was public access info now? Dean wanted to punch a wall. "Now where is he?" Meg pressed.

"Don't know," Sam returned in perfect apathy. "Don't care."

Meg's outward facade wobbled a little—impatience made her get a little indignant. "You've been working his beat for months," she pointed out in a strained voice.

"Doesn't mean we get face time," Sam said blandly.

Meg was quiet for a long moment, her expression darkening. Then she smirked again and pointedly ignored Sam, came over to Dean, and stroked a hand down onto his shoulder before swinging a leg over him to straddle his lap. Repulsed, Dean tried not to show it because he hated for her to get the upper hand in any small way. "Where's he take all those things you snatch up for him?" she asked him in a purr. "I bet you an all-day sucker that's where his majesty's holed up!" When Dean said nothing, just let a little fuck you smile play on his lips, Meg's catty smile dropped and her voice deepened with displeasure. "Okay, officially over the foreplay." She pulled out a knife—the demon blade—and held it to Dean's neck hard. His smile fell. She spoke through gritted teeth. "Satisfy me or I please myself."