I'm a demon.

The thought of demons made him think of Rose, and angels, prompting him surge to his feet… only to slip. He would have tumbled right back down if Meg hadn’t reached out to grab him at that point.

“Rose,” he growled, shaking glass off and making a face at all the wet patches. At least there wasn’t too much blood, just minor nicks that would heal quickly enough. The bruises were another matter, and he was feeling decidedly unsteady on his feet - not badly injured, but not in any shape to go rushing straight out after Rose. Which he suspected was exactly her intention.

“She’s changed,” he said, narrowing his eyes and staring out of the bar towards where she had been. “She’s…” making a frustrated gesture, he tried to calm himself a little and turned back to Meg. “I tried to talk to her, and she tried to –” he took a deep breath, fighting his instincts, and tried again, “We ended up trying to fight.”

“She really isn’t the only one that has changed around here, Doc.” Meg countered, eyeing her friend for a moment and judging whether or not he was going to react negatively to her comment.

Giving a small nod, Meg moved around him and began to pluck at what was left of the alcoholic bottles before reaching for an unopened and unbroken whiskey. Pulling it open and taking a swig, the demon gave a shrug. “That’s what happens when baby supes get together and are natural enemies. Sparks fly and not the romantic type.”

Raising her brow at him, Meg set her bottle down and crossed her arms on her torso. “Well... you don’t actually want to defeat her do you? You just want to be able to rationally talk to her? Or has that all gone out the window like you went through the door?”

She knew soon enough that John was going to snap at her, but she didn’t care as now she had a sort of hold over him. “Angels are naturally more powerful than demons though, that’s just the way things were made. It sucks and it’s stupid, but yeah.”

It didn’t stop him from sitting down to toss back as many shots as he could, however.

He was pleasantly buzzed when someone appeared - oh, that was cute. She was diminutive and threatening him? He was already in love. 

He waved the bottle vaguely. “An entire empty bar, a whole row of seats at the counter, and you just have to pick mine. I say you’re not looking for a seat, you’re looking for a fight.” He smirked dryly, looking marginally surprised when she snagged the bottle from him.

“Captain John Hart,” he replied, letting her have it, and leaning back with some interest. “And if that’s your favourite whiskey, you’re welcome to it. Honestly, it tastes like piss. Isn’t there any of the good stuff around here? It looks like someone’s cleaned out the shelves.”

“No, I’m looking for decent conversation and the expectation to not have your ass planted in my seat next time.” the demon corrected, granting him a small smirk before standing to her full (but very short) height. “Besides, I’m way too lazy to kick your ass right now.”

After giving another shrug, Meg leaned back against the shelved walls and tilted her head as she took another sip from the stolen bottle.

Giving a snort when she heard his name, it took all she could not to roll her eyes at him. ”Another Captain? Wonderful, I think I’ll just call you ‘Hart’ if that’s alright with you... At least until I can come up with something better.” Briefly she wondered if he was a friend of Jack’s or Doc’s.

“I really don’t drink any sort of alcohol for the taste, I just drink it because it’s better than water and easier to grab than anything else. Plus all whiskey is my favorite, I don’t actually care what type it is.” Giving him a small smile, Meg’s eyes scanned the empty shelves.

“Yeah, shame someone did. I bet she’ll be enjoying herself tonight... and until she runs out again.”

“The Doctor does, yes! I just thought that you maybe had more decency in you not to lie to me.” Her words came out heatedly, but as the sentence went on, they slowly came to a stop and she whispered out the very last word. But he’d made an act of war out of this, taking her message of pain as a means that she wanted to kill him.

She didn’t, she never did, but now she had to fight for herself or risk losing herself.

“Why are you being so stubborn!?!” She closed her eyes, but that didn’t seem to do much as the glow shone through anyway.

And then he made the worst mistake.

Feeling him trying to freeze her in place, Rose laid in wait until he got close enough for her to physically touch and hold. This time when she placed her hand onto his chest, it didn’t burn. Instead, it held him there.

“Doctor do me a favour,” her voice was not her own anymore, the Bad Wolf had taken over. Pulling herself closer to him, she brushed her cheek against his as she leaned up to whisper in his ear; “Run.” 

Without giving him a chance to, she pushed with most of her strength and sent him soaring backwards and towards the direction of the bar.

Advancing on her, he brought his hands up, aiming for her throat – only to found himself apparently frozen in place. Something cut through the haze in his mind, probably inspired by his survival instincts, and he had a moment of clarity - at the same moment that Rose whispered in his ear to run.

Then he was flying backwards, with a sinking sense that things had just gone very pear shaped.

Crashing through the saloon doors of the bar, he flew straight into the counter and the bottles behind it. There was the sound of smashing glass and his back blazed with pain for a moment, before several bottles came crashing down on his head.

Dean had become an angel, Sam a demon, and the rest of the town she hadn’t paid much attention to or cared about.

All, of course, except for one; Doc.

She’d already angered him once, but now that she was trying to stay on everyone’s good side, she’d decided to play an advocate to him and to Dean. Especially since Sam was being a major dick about the whole thing.

However, Meg was not expecting to hear a major crash within the bar that she had just decided to visit. Nor was she expecting to see so much wasted alcohol surrounding her one and almost only friend.

Trudging through the glass and spilled liquor, she moved to knock most of it out of the way before pulling John up to a stand. “Should I ask or are we both going to completely pretend that this never happened?”

Raising a brow, she gave a glance around to see if they were in danger before beginning to brush off some of the shards of glass that decided to litter all over his suit.

‘Scuse me, didn’t realize I was dumb because I haven’t been around all the ‘inevitable fighting’. I mean, sure, people are on edge, but I haven’t seen anything to suggest that anybody would kill any of their friends. I also don’t know where you come from, but fights don’t always have to end in a death. That’s not exactly typical.

Nor have you apparently been around the internet either. Sam is literally telling people that the others are dangerous and will SMITE US ALL!!111!!!!

Not to say that the angels, like Rose the Righteous hasn’t been saying much of the same. And I come from a world that’s called literal Hell. Tell me how not typical death and pain is there.

Anyway, good luck kid. Try to stay safe and all that.

Crossing her arms over her chest and leaning on one foot, Meg raised a brow at the other decided to give a small shrug. “He’s probably in his house or something. I think he’s taken over the police station if you’re desperate to look for him.”

She went through her mind as she tried to remember every detail about the famous detective, but surprisingly came up fairly blank. “Sorry,” she really wasn’t but it was nice to say, “I wish I could tell you more but I haven’t really had the pleasure to get to know Sherlock nor do I care that much.”

Though his addition to who he was specifying still rang odd to her. “And who else would I be talking about?” She paused and looked away and gave a shrug. “Actually, don’t answer that, I’m not sure you’ll tell me and I also don’t actually care.”

However, currently, she wasn’t worried about any of that - the trauma could be dealt with later. Her main focus was learning how to make the most of her new powers. While Toshiko has never dealt with anything like that in the past, she did have a brush with mind reading. It didn’t exactly work out so well. She saw it more of a curse than a blessing, but thankfully it was also a choice. This time around, she seemed to be stuck with these powers. So might as well learn how to control them.

Clearly Meg was the best person for that. She’d been around much longer than Tosh, or most of the people in the pocket. There was no better teacher. It also wouldn’t help to become friends with her along the way. With how things were going, how everyone seemed to be separated, Toshiko figured that a friend might be needed for later on. There was no saying how things might end up playing out.

Usually Toshiko was nervous when meeting new people - who knows if they would have anything in common, or even get along? But surprisingly, she was actually pretty relaxed. It was a nice feeling, not to constantly be worried or anxious about something. 

Plus, everything seemed to be heightened by the woman’s new abilities. Including confidence.

“I see that, thanks.” Meg muttered, accepting the whiskey without actually saying much more. She was about to open it and take a swig when she remembered that even though they were demons, she still had to show some sort of manners. “When I open this, do you want some? I also have more crap like water and stuff, but I figured you’d probably rather have this.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Meg smiled at her and gave a shrug. “Did I not say ‘hi’? I can’t remember, sorry I don’t have the courtesy to always be nice. Sort of comes with being super old and super uncaring.” The ease she had about her was natural and she couldn’t really explain much else for herself other than that.

Placing the whiskey bottle on the counter, she turned slowly around and stared at Toshiko, giving the woman a very thoughtful look. “Telekinesis, I guess. Unless you think that’s boring or too simple. Then we can try biokinesis.”

Are you intentionally trying to act dumb or does it come naturally to you?

I meant that people are trying to pick sides and start a fight and it doesn’t have to be this way. Usually fights, in my experience, involve a couple of deaths.