[Detroit!AU: the first to come was a fair maid]

[stilljustandrew]

Jonathan's vision was pretty well unmistakable. Gabriel's in danger, and doesn't know it -- or at least doesn't know the specifics.

That would be enough on its own, even if Andrew didn't more or less owe him his life.



Gabriel's nowhere to be seen at Milliways, and no one seems to have run into him in the past couple of days. Well, and that's normal enough; there's no reason he'd be here all the time, and plenty of reason to make himself scarce, all things considered. Maybe he's just back home.

Please just let this not be too late.

Andrew writes out a note at the bar giving Jonathan's vision in as much detail as he can, folds it carefully in quarters, and writes "The Trickster (G.)" on the outside.

Comments

[mynamesnotmeg]

Across the room, a dark-haired young woman sits at a table, watching him. Despite the warmer weather outside, she's dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, and has a colorful scarf tied around her throat. The long fall of her hair hides the burn scars on one side of her face.

Eventually, 'Meg' intends to repay Castiel for that painful insult, but not now. No, now she's focused on someone else entirely.

The fact that she owes Andrew Wells for his trick with the demon Dvasha is merely a bonus. Sometimes 'Meg' truly loves her work.

[stilljustandrew]

He rereads the note once more, lets out a long breath, refolds it and puts it down carefully on the bartop.

"Give this to him next time he's here," he says softly. "You know who I mean?"

A napkin materializes out of the wood as the note fades into it. On the napkin there's a rough pen sketch of a thumbs-up sign.

He smiles. "Thanks."

[mynamesnotmeg]

He's finishing up with whatever he's doing; it's almost time.

Meg glances around the room quickly, catching the eyes of her strike team. One man is stationed by the lake door; the other by the front door. Each of them has a hellhound at his side, seated and watching.

She hadn't expected the hounds to be visible, but this place has rules of its own. She barely represses a sneer at the thought. Still, it doesn't change the plan.

Meg looks away from the one at the front, then gets up from her chair and starts to make her way across the room, toward Andrew.

At her signal, the first hound is released to dart across the room from the front door to join its partner at the back.

Surely it's only a coincidence that it does so in such a way that it will knock its lean body against her legs as she draws near Wells, tripping her so that she falls against him.

"Oh!--"

[stilljustandrew]

"-- Hey!" It's startled but not indignant, as he automatically reaches out to steady her.

"You okay?"

[mynamesnotmeg]

"I'm sorry--"

She clutches at his arm, and holds on.

"It's my ankle, I think. That ... was that a dog?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I think so, yeah -- your ankle? Are you hurt?"

He didn't really get a good look at whatever it was; keeping his arm steady, he cranes his neck to look in the direction it's gone.

[mynamesnotmeg]

"No?" She tries to stand on both feet without leaning against him, and hisses sharply. "Yes? It's twisted, I guess."

She sounds embarrassed.

"I feel like such a clumsy idiot."

One of the dogs is lying in the shadows under a table, its head on its paws. Something about the way the light reflects from its eyes as it watches them is odd, almost evocative of smouldering embers.

The other one has darted on, with a man calling after it in frustration. "Rex, darn your hide, get back here--"

[stilljustandrew]

"Oh," he says sympathetically, "don't say that, it could happen to anybody -- want me to help you get to the infirmary? Make sure it's not sprained?"

[mynamesnotmeg]

"That would be really nice of you, if you wouldn't mind?" She gives him a weak smile. "I don't want to be any trouble. Any more trouble."

[stilljustandrew]

"It's totally okay," he assures her. "Can you walk if you lean on me?"

[mynamesnotmeg]

"I'm sure I can," she says. "Maybe if you put your arm around my shoulders, and I --"

She adds hastily, "For support, I mean-- I promise this isn't some sort of totally awkward pickup, or anything like that--"

She blushes.

"--not that you're not cute, I ... I should just shut up now, right?"

[stilljustandrew]

"No, I, it's okay," he says, and now the tips of his ears are going red.

Even if she is just trying to be nice with that last line, it's still kind of discombobulating to get a compliment like that from a total stranger.

(If not entirely unpleasant.)

[mynamesnotmeg]

"Okay," she says, and smiles back. Meg eases closer, and slips her arm around his waist.

"Infirmary, here we come."

Of course, to get there from here, they'll have to pass between the staircase leading to the upper floors and the dog under the table.

[stilljustandrew]

He starts walking slowly, cautiously, trying to help her keep her balance. "You good?"

[mynamesnotmeg]

"I'm great," she assures him.

Meg flicks the fingers of her free hand behind her back in a quick sign, and the henchman by the front door begins to slowly drift from that position, moving through the crowd in such a way that they're between him and the stairs, and he's between them and escape.

As they draw near the stairs, the second dog gets to its feet. A low growl comes from under the table, and it steps into view between them and the lake door.

There's no sign of 'Rex' or his 'owner.'

[stilljustandrew]

"...Uh."

Andrew glances at the girl, abruptly unnerved.

"Is that the same d--"

In mid-word he looks back at it, and stops.



"That's not a dog."

[mynamesnotmeg]

Her eyes are wide with shock or maybe fear.

"Its face, what's wrong with its face--"

She shrinks closer to him.

[stilljustandrew]

Hellhound, he thinks; and abruptly, clear as day, he finds himself thinking of Tucker in what feels like the first time in years.

Slowly, carefully, he shifts sideways so that he's half in front of the girl.

"Can you walk on your own?" he asks, low and tight, without looking at her.

[mynamesnotmeg]

Calculation flashes through her mind and is reflected briefly on her face before she nods.

"I think so." Meg lets go of him and stands, favoring her 'injured' ankle.

"Where--?"

[stilljustandrew]

He doesn't see the expression on her face; his gaze is fixed on the hellhound, only briefly flicking around the room to see who else is here. No Security in sight, no one in the immediate vicinity; not a lot of options.

"Head for the stairs," he says out of the side of his mouth, "I'm gonna call for Security."

And draws a breath --

[mynamesnotmeg]

--only to be met with the slam of her elbow into his ribs. Hard.

Oh no you don't, Wells.

"It'll just attack if you do," she hisses, and indeed the hound is bristling now, glaring at them. "Come on, come with me, maybe we can hide in a room or something until it gets tired--"

[stilljustandrew]

"Bad idea," he mutters back. "If we run, it's faster than us, it'll -- look, trust me, try moving for the stairs very slowly and see if it stays focused on you, okay?"

And, raising his voice, he says directly to the hellhound: "Do you understand me?"

[mynamesnotmeg]

Its gaze swings to him and locks there. The hound gives no sign of comprehension other than a low growl, and takes a step toward them.

Meg is tugging frantically at his arm. "I can't run anyway, but I'm not leaving you here with that thing -- please!"

She flicks a sharp warning glance over his shoulder at the hovering henchman.

This could all go bad quickly if Wells causes a scene. They're ready to move fast, in public or not, but it'd be better to not have to take the risk.

[stilljustandrew]

Slowly, reluctantly, he lets her tug him a step backward.

"Okay," he says, very low. "My room. I've got supplies, we can maybe hold them off till backup arrives. If we can get there."

[mynamesnotmeg]

She barely manages not to roll her eyes.

Finally.

"Okay," Meg says, forcing a small quaver into her voice. "Okay. Whatever you say. Now can we please just go, get away from it, please?"

She pulls at his arm again, and takes another step back.

The hound watches, still growling, but makes no move to follow.