To those who read my previous story, "Hello, cruel show", this is the fic I mentioned in there (if that makes any sense). I didn't know if I was gonna post it, but what the hell, life's too short. Hope you guys like it.

The room smells of vermin, scotch and death. There is blood and gore everywhere, making it look like the kind of place you would find in those movies Dean loves to watch. The only thing that doesn't speak of violence is the song playing. I think it's jazz. Or maybe blues. I'm not sure, I'm not really familiar with music. All I know is that a man is singing something about an unreachable star. Preposterous. As if there were reachable stars to begin with.

I let Crowley hear my footsteps and the sound makes him look up from his work, a wide grin spreading quickly on him blood splattered face as he straightens up. "So," he says, spreading his arms as if proud of himself, "How'd I do?" I grumble something vaguely appreciative as I walk past him.

"Well don't get too excited angel, you're gonna hurt yourself."

"I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm, demon." I say, turning my back on him. I can hear him huff an exasperated sigh behind me, and I have to work really hard to restrain myself from smiting him right here and now. Not only do I have to associate with a demon, but he also takes the luxury of being mad at me?

"You're never in the mood for anything," he says, sounding like a pouting child. There's the rustle of fabric, a soft sloshing sound and the barely perceptible clink of ice cube meeting glass as he picks up his scotch. "Come on, loosen up! The Winchesters and the demons are off my case, we're a step closer to finding Purgatory and your precious pets don't suspect a thing. By the way, your little speech outside of the warehouse was very moving dear, just enough fluff, sweetness an desperation." I sigh and close my eyes. Of course he was listening. "You're really becoming quite good at it, even your little protégé bought it. If you ask me-"

"I didn't." I turn to face him, anger lacing my every word. "You may think it's funny, but I just lied to my friends, I looked them in the eyes and lied to them. And they still trust me, no matter what. It..." I trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence. It what? Makes me sick? Makes me hate myself? Makes me wish I'd accepted Raphael's challenge right away and got killed over a year ago?

All of the above.

"Cas, Cas, Cas." the demon says slowly, as if talking to a child. "Don't worry about it," he puts his hand on my shoulder, "It'll go away soon. Lying and cheating will come easy, and you won't feel bad about it anymore. Just like me."

I shrug off his hand, and he can consider himself lucky I didn't just break it. "Don't touch me." I snarl, "I am nothing like you. You're a demon."

My outburst doesn't worry him though. If anything, it seems to amuse him. "Thank you, Captain Obvious." he chuckles. He raises the glass to his lips and takes a long swig, all the while fixing me with a knowing look I'd give anything to erase. "You know, you're so cute when you get all prissy," he teases, "You look like a teenage girl that sneaked out of the house at midnight then gets mad at her friend becase she 'made her do it'. But the thing is, Cassy, that I didn't make you do anything." His gaze hardens, and in a second he goes from mocking to dead serious, which I guess would be impressive if he wasn't a lower creature. "In fact I couldn't force you to do anything if I tried. I laid out the options and you made your choice. So don't you start getting all superior to me, Flyboy. We're on the same team don't you forget that."

I want to deny it, I want to tell him I could never be on the same side as a demon, I want to hit him until all that's left is a bloodied empty vessel. And I would. I would do all that and more. But the truth is, he's right. I did choose to work with him, and I knew very well what it meant. Suddenly the room feels too small for me, and I find I can't stand Crowley's defiant stare anymore.

I need to get out of here.

"I've gotta go." I say as flatly as I can manage, "Let me know if you find anything."

"Yeah, yeah." he says in a dismissive way, waving me off. I can't even find it in me to feel offended.

In a matter of nanoseconds I find myself in a deserted park at night. I take in my surroundings and find the Eiffel tower behind me. Why here, I have no idea. I just needed some piece and quiet. I sit down on the closest bench with my elbows on my knees and my hands clasped together, staring up up at what humans call one of the seven wonders of the world. What they find wonderful in a big antenna, I will never know.

I rub at my eyes tiredly, a habit I picked up when I'd become mostly human and I could never get rid of. Sometimes it's easy, to focus on the bigger picture and do what it takes to reach my goal. But now is not one of those times. Right now I'm full of doubts and regrets. I wish I could just tell my friends everything, but what could they possibly do to help me? And of course, there's Sam. What he said to me yesterday... I never expected such words to come out of his mouth. Knowing he doesn't have a soul doesn't make it easier to accept at all, especially since I put him in this situation.

If Dean knew...

I need to stop thinking about it. I need to focus, I need to rally my forces, I need-

"There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

- anything but that. I groan inwardly at the annoyingly cheerful voice. Does hes really have to be so childish all the time?

"I haven't been everywhere." I say, dully remembering that line from a musical movie about marijuana Dean was watching the other day. I'm really beginning to question his cinematographic tastes.

"Ever the merry one, aren't you, Cas?" Balthazar says, flopping gracelessly on the bench next to me. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

I shrug. "Thinking."

"Good, I'm gonna think too." he says, crossing his arms and looking straight ahead in a mockery of concentration. He stays like this two seconds before turning back to me. "What are we thinking about?" He grins at me expectantly as if waiting for me to get the joke, but I can only look blankly at him. He throws up his arms with a frustrated sigh. "Michael Cane? Ben Kingsley? It's from Without a clue!" he says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Sometimes I do wonder why Dean and him don't get along better than they do. My lack of reaction seems to frustrate him further and he sinks a little in his seat. "Whatever."

"I'm not in the mood, Balthazar." I say for the second time today.

"So I've noticed. What's wrong?" he asks, finally turning serious and I suddenly find my big brother again. Looking at him I consider, not for the first time, telling him everything, but I can't. I don't want to see the shame or disgust in his eyes. I couldn't stand it.

So I settle for sarcasm instead. "Oh, nothing. Just the civil war in Heaven, the pending second apocalypse and a soulless friend. The usual."

Beside me, Balthazar gives a dramatic sigh. "Boring." he singsongs. "Besides I've already gave you an solution, but you refused to take it."

"I don't think 'grabbing something valuable and faking my own death' is gonna solve anything, Balthazar."

"Worked for me."

I shake my head. "Yes, because it harmed no one in the process." I mumble. It must be so convenient, to live carelessly like him, to do anything you want without having to wonder what it might do to others. I won't soon forget the feeling of loss and grief his 'death' had left me with.

I can feel him shift uncomfortably. "Cas," he says with sorrow in his voice, "I didn't mean to let you down or anything. I didn't think-"

"That's right, you didn't." I snap at him. "You only thought about yourself, like always. You didn't care that I was left alone to face Raphael. All you saw was an easy way out of the fight, and you took it." I look at him but he's staring down at his feet, avoiding my gaze as best as he can. "I didn't start the fight so I could just walk away from it and leave everyone else to deal with it. I'm not gonna abandon those who need me the most. That's your specialty."

He looks up abruptly, hurt written all over his face. I hold his gaze, not wanting him to know how much I regret saying those words to him. I don't recognize myself. A few month ago I would have never talked to him like that. I'd apologize if I didn't mean what I said, but the truth is I did. He did let me down, all to save his life no matter what happened to me. I haven't said anything about that until now, but I'm tired of trying to spare everyone.

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. He's obviously struggling with an answer, but I don't really want to hear it. I've had enough fights and tensions for one day. I get up, straighten my overcoat (another human habit I can't get rid of), and toss him a "Goodbye Balthazar" over my shoulder before spreading my wings.

And I pretend not to notice his slumped shoulders and defeated eyes, or hear the quiet "I'm so sorry Cas" as I fly away from him.

The end.

Reviews are still much, much welcome.

nerwende