I wrote this for my dear friend, a transcription of an incredible RP. I friggin' ship Maggie/Dean like nobody's business now.
Warnings: Language.
Pairings: Dean/OC
Full Summary: When Dean and Sam stop in to Dean's girlfriend's house for a siesta, things get ugly. Unlikely resurrections, abductions, new foes with old grudges and one seriously time-warped god-angel. Slightly crack!
"Dude, too much driving, not enough food." Dean flung himself down on Maggie's couch, scrubbing his hands over his unshaven jaw.
"Yeah, well, maybe if you hadn't gotten us lost two hours ago, we'd have been here in time for dinner." Sam flopped onto the recliner footstool and raked his hands back through his hair.
"It takes longer than two hours for food to get moldy, guys." Maggie called from the kitchen, grinning. She'd been putting up with the brothers long enough to know when Dean's complaining was really a request to have dinner brought to him, and Sam's reply was an obvious 'Go get it yourself, jerk.' "Dean, blueberry or apple pie?"
"Uh, how 'bout both?"
Maggie rolled her eyes. "Sam?"
"Apple's fine, thanks."
"Coming right up." Maggie grabbed two plates in one hand, two in the other and joined them in the living room, divvying up the meals.
"Anyone ever tell you you're God's gift to mankind, sweetheart?" Dean cracked an adorable smile, forfeiting the pie momentarily in favor of pulling Maggie down by his side. He nuzzled her cheek.
Sam pulled a face. "Gross. Go get a room, you two."
"There's three upstairs." Maggie quipped, and Sam rolled his eyes, hiding a smile in a bite of pie.
"All right, Chomper, you conquer that food." Dean stood up, shucking off his jacket. "I'm gonna hit the head."
"Hurry up, or your pie's mine!" Sam called after him.
"Touch my pie and die, bro!" Dean hollered, footsteps clumping up the stairs.
Maggie grinned, propping her elbow on the arm of the couch and resting her head on her fist. "So, that werewolf hunt in Tennessee. You're still going, right?"
Sam's forehead yanked tight in a frown and he chewed slower, giving himself time to think. "Yeah. Bobby thinks there might be more than just the five."
"Dammit." Maggie bit her lip. "You sure you guys can handle it?"
Sam smiled slightly. "Hey, we've faced worse."
The first strains of Kansas' Carry on my Wayward Son filtered into the conversation. Maggie hurried to grab the phone off the table beside the door, scruffling Sam's hair in passing. He shoved her arm away, smiling, as Maggie connected the call.
"Hello?"
"Hello, kitten."
Maggie shot a sideways glance toward Sam, then backed into the kitchen and closed the door. "Hi, king. How are things?"
Being on speaking terms with the King of Hell wasn't something most humans could attest to. Generally, people tended to run from that kind of thing. But skirmishes with selling souls and two very protective, denim-wrapped nightmares had put Maggie into Crowley's relative good-graces. Which generally meant he called her at all odd hours when he was itching to start something.
Crowley heaved the sigh of the century. "Quite boring at the moment. I think I may need to stir up some trouble, if you know what I mean, kitten."
Yahtzee.
An annoying two-toned beep told Maggie that another call was coming in. She pulled the phone away form her ear—frowned. "Hang on a second, I need to take this." She connected it.
"Hey."
A reluctant smile tugged at her face, hearing that playful voice. "Dean, why are you calling me while you're at my house? Where did you hide?"
The call went dead.
Maggie pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it for a second. "Um. Okay." She took Crowley off hold. "Sorry, what?"
"I said, I'm bored."
Maggie leaned against the counter. "Oh. Crowley, dear, if you're really bored and have nothing to do, maybe you'd like to visit me?" She slid a glance toward the door; the clatter of cutlery told her Sam was still feasting. "Dean and Sammy are here, maybe you'd like to talk. They got some important info from you, they want to say thank you." She grinned. "And I'd love to see you!"
A pause. "All right, kitten, look behind you."
Maggie swiveled around and nearly bumped face-to-face with Crowley, who was slouching against the wall, eyebrows raised, phone still pressed to his ear.
"What do they want?" He tilted his head slightly to one side.
Maggie killed the call. "They—"
The phone rang again, Caller ID flashing Dean's number. Rolling her eyes, Maggie accepted the incoming call.
"I'm under your bed."
Maggie swung around, putting her back to Crowley again and lowering her voice to a hiss. "Why are you lying there instead of sitting with me and hugging the crap out of me? You're going to hunt werewolves in three hours, Dean, I thought you missed me. We're not gonna see each other for a couple of weeks, you know…"
He chuckled.
Static on the line.
Struggling to hold back her frustration, Maggie plastered on a smile and turned back to Crowley. "Sorry about that. No, they only want to thank you for your help." She headed for the fridge. "Would you like some beer?"
Crowley shook his head. "You look disturbed, darling."
Maggie froze, one hand on the fridge, head bowed. There was an unsettled, sour feeling in her gut, something she couldn't identify.
She turned back to face the Demon King. "I need to check on something. Give me a minute. And stay here."
She took the stairs two at a time, running into her bedroom and sliding to her knees to look under the bed. Empty. Of course.
The phone rang again.
Maggie swore and checked the ID, then connected. "Hel—?"
"Dean is crazy!" Sam's voice was so loud Maggie pulled the phone away from her ear for a few seconds.
"I checked under my bed. He's not here, Sam."
Dead silence.
"Of course. Great, just great." Maggie hunched onto her feet and stormed back downstairs, swinging into the living room just as Sam tucked his phone into his pocket. Judging by the look on his face, Maggie had a feeling something had just confused him.
"Hey. Is it just me, or is Dean acting weird?" Sam confirmed her suspicions, picking up a piece of pie crust off his plate and munching it, meeting Maggie's gaze innocently. "This pie is delicious, by the way."
"He is. I don't know what's going on." Maggie pulled her fingers back through her hair, then scanned the room. "Sammy, where is he?"
Sam shrugged. "He's really not acting like himself, right? He just called me and said he had a surprise for me." Mouth full, Sam gave her a slightly warped smile. "Last time I thought he was acting like this, he was actually a Shapeshifter."
The phone in Maggie's hand rang, startling her. She'd already answered it before she'd even brought it to her ear. "Oh, so I'm the monster?"
"No one said—" She broke off the whiplash retort, closing her eyes. "Dean? Where are you now? You're scaring me. You're not under the bed, I checked. What's going on?"
That palpable, annoying silence. It took all of her restraint not to hurl the phone against the wall.
The door to the kitchen slid open. "Misplace something, darling?" Crowley sauntered in. "Wow, I am surprised Dean's leaving you alone with me. He seems to have lost his better judgment, leaving his girlfriend alone with the King of Hell."
Sam lurched to his feet, yanking the demon-killing knife from his waistband. "Crowley?"
"Easy, moose. She invited me." Crowley nodded to Maggie. "You know full well your darling little sister has a friend in low places."
"…who wants me to be his Queen, by the way." Maggie rolled her eyes, stepping between the two of them. "But jokes aside, King, I think something's wrong. That's three times he's called me in the last five minutes. He's being an ass. That's not my Dean."
Sam cleared his throat, then looked away. Maggie glared at him.
"Don't start with me, Samuel Winchester. You're in as much trouble as he is."
"What?" Sam yelped, and Crowley snickered. "Wait, what did I do?"
"You called me and screamed in my ear!"
A thump overhead captured the attention of all three, bringing their heads swinging up. Maggie shoved her phone into her pocket. "I'll be right back."
"Mags, wait!" Sam swiped for her arm, and missed as Maggie pounced back up the stairs and almost slammed straight through the bathroom door; it swung open the second she reached it and hands caught her arms.
"Whoa, there! Easy, Juggernaut." Dean set her back at arm's length, frowning. "You must really hafta pee."
"Dean, what the hell is the matter with you?"
"Uh. If the bathroom stinks, I can explain—"
"I just got three calls from you, saying you were under my bed!"
Dean arched an eyebrow. "Unless I was pocket-dialing you, sweetheart, I think you—" He went rigid, sliding a hand into the front pocket of his jeans. "Son of a bitch. My phone's gone!"
Maggie loosened up a little bit, though the rational response should've been ramping up to anxiety. The voice on the line had definitely sounded like Dean's. "So, it wasn't you."
"Have I ever called you from the crapper?" Dean scrunched up his face. Maggie raised an eyebrow. "Wait. Don't answer that." Dean shook her slightly. "Maggie, I wasn't under your bed. I didn't call you. All right? I swear."
"I believe you." Maggie rubbed her forehead. "I don't know what's happening, but I believe you. I'll tell Sam."
"I'm gonna see if I can find my friggin' phone." Dean pushed her lightly out of the entryway and shut the bathroom door behind him. "Be down in a sec."
"Hurry." Maggie squeezed his hand.
She found Crowley and Sam at opposite ends of the living room having the glaring match of the century. There was an almost palpable tension in the air that made the back of her nick prickle; when she cleared her throat, they both looked at her. Sam's stone-solid expression softened. He joined her at the foot of the stairs.
"Hey, listen. Whoever called you, saying Dean was crazy? Not me. Mags." His expression went stormy with a sudden thought. "Do we have Shapeshifters in this house?" When Maggie didn't answer, just met his gaze bleakly, Sam thumped his fist hard against the wall. "Son of a bitch."
Carry on my Wayward Son interrupted the anger Maggie could see forming in Sam's eyes. She yanked out her phone again.
"I'm behind you!" Dean's voice screamed into her ear.
Maggie spun around to look up the stairs; nothing.
"Who are you?" She snarled.
"Give me the phone." Sam held out his hand and Maggie tossed it to him, but Sam hadn't even gotten it to his ear before it rang again. He punched the connect button and put it on speaker.
"Dean is drunk!"
Maggie didn't think she'd ever forget the sick gray flash that crossed Sam's face when he heard his own voice chortling over the line.
"And who are you?" Maggie snatched the phone back from Sam, face twisting with anger. "You're not Sam!"
When the call cut out this time, Maggie finally broke composure and flung the phone onto the couch. "What the hell is going on?"
Crowley cleared his throat significantly, spinning Maggie and Sam around. With their glares pinned on him, he shrugged delicately. "I'm not sure what I can do to help, children. Where the hell is that worthless angel when you need him?"
Sam made a sound of contempt in the back of his throat. Maggie laid a hand on his arm and addressed the demon. "Crowley, I trust you and maybe I shouldn't… I'm confused, do you have anything to do with these weird phone calls? The fake Winchesters? Because if you do, I swear—"
Sam shrugged her hand off lightly and Maggie swung a look onto him that was both cautioning and mistrustful. Sam's forehead furrowed. "Look. This is kinda freaking me out, too. But I swear, Mags, Shapeshifters or not, I'm the real Sam." He spread his arms wide for a moment, then dropped them to his sides and flicked an encouraging smile toward her. "We're gonna find out what's going on with Dean."
Maggie chewed the inside of her cheek. "I'm scared."
A whipping gale-force of wind surged through the room, reeling Maggie against Sam. He caught her upper arms by instinct and turned them both around to face the newcomer standing poised in the kitchen doorway behind Crowley, head held high. The demon took one look at Castiel and vanished.
Castiel didn't seem to notice. He was transfixed on Sam and Maggie.
"Maggie. This is a test."
Maggie wrenched out of Sam's hold. "Cas? What are you doing to me?"
They're ghouls, I think.
Maggie stiffened, swinging a glance to all four corners of the room. "Did anyone else hear that?"
Sam's head jerked to the side. "Hear what?"
"Um…nothing." Maggie shook her head, hard.
Sam looked at her, worry plain on his face, worry written in his eyes. Ignoring Castiel completely. "I'm not sure what's going on, Mags. Could be Crowley. Could be Shapeshifters. We're gonna need anything silver you've got, just in case. But we need a way to make sure we know who's who, so whatever these things are, they can't trick us and split us up."
It hit Maggie then, staring into Sam's earnest eyes, that he couldn't see the angel standing in the doorway, glimmering blue eyes reflecting dying light from outdoors.
"Sam, it's Castiel. I have no idea why he's doing it, he says it's a test. This is not god-Cas, though. It's this other Castiel. From the past. Or future." Sam's face twitched with uncertainty and Maggie slid the silver bracelet off her wrist, pressing it into his hand. "Here, take this bracelet for now, I'm gonna go look for more silver." She spoke toward the ceiling, "And where the fuck is Dean?"
She'd taken two steps toward the stairs when Castiel spoke again: "I am simply testing your loyalty and skill. This is not all you will face. I suggest you be prepared.
I must know if you are ready to handle what I have in store for you."
Gripping the banister, Maggie hunched her shoulders, battling back a wave of rage. "What?" She swung around. "What do you mean by that? Castiel?"
No sign of him. The angel had vanished.
"Uh, is he gone?" Sam asked uneasily.
"As far as I can tell." Maggie shook her head. "Keep an eye out for Crowley, with Castiel gone I'm sure he'll be back soon."
"Here, I'll look for the silver." Sam brushed past her. "Stay here."
Maggie listened to his footsteps clumping overhead, then dropped her chin to her chest and rubbed her temples. She wasn't sure what the worst part of this was: past-or-future Cas, the weird phone calls or the voice in her head.
And just like that, like she'd summoned it, the phone started ringing again.
"Are you kidding me!" Maggie snapped, picking it up with two fingers. The Caller ID was Dean's number, again—surprise, surprise.
Flushed with rage, Maggie answered it. "Listen, you lying son of a—"
"Maggie?" She knew that tone, stopping her rant cold in its tracks. Something told her this wasn't another Ghoul, Shapeshifter prank. "Hey, honey. Um. We... It's a really funky town, you know? I'm eeh... I'm in the basement."
Maggie's eyes flipped wide. Shit. "Dean, I'm coming for you!"
A fuzz of static made Maggie's heart skip a beat. "Dean?"
"Mags, be careful."
An iron fist closed around her throat. "I always am, Dean. Hold on."
The silence was back.
Broken seconds later by Sam coming down the stairs. "Couldn't find anymore silver." He swung around the corner. "So I was thinking. Cas. Why the hell would he—?" Sam misread the devastated expression on Maggie's face, and backpedaled. "All right, look. At this point, it doesn't matter. We need to focus on getting rid of them, we can deal with Castiel later." He carded both hands back through his hair and blew out a heavy breath. "Crap, we could really use Dean's help right about now."
The concern in Sam's voice snapped Maggie's mind out of the useless circles it was running, wondering what could possibly happen next. "Sam? I just got a message from him. They took him." Sam blanched, head rocking back slightly. "He said 'It's a really funky town, you know?' Guess what that means." She sat down hard on the edge of the couch. "He's in the basement. We don't know who or what's there with him." She looked up at Sam, helpless, feeling a knot of fear twisting tight in her chest. "What are we gonna do now?"
A wastebasket in the corner went flying, smacking off the wall and bouncing back. Maggie jolted to her feet and Crowley materialized in front of them, face twisted with rage, shouting toward nothing: "Castiel, you stupid, feathery bastard, you'd better stop! Call this off!"
"Crowley!" Maggie snapped, and the demon swung furious eyes onto her. "Why is he doing this? Why?"
It didn't need much an explanation, and Maggie knew there would never be one. Angels were angels, they did things for some contrived, falsified purpose and no human would ever be worthy of understanding.
Maggie swiped a hand under her eyes, dragging in a straggling breath. "Listen. I'm gonna go save Dean, you check out my house and kill whatever unnatural you meet, could you?" She met Crowley's gaze levelly. The demon rolled his eyes, but didn't protest.
"Is there a problem? Do you need help?"
"Holy—!" Sam spun around. "Would you stop that!"
Castiel cocked his head to one side.
"You can see him this time?" Maggie demanded.
"This time?" Castiel echoed blankly.
Maggie's breath rushed out in a sigh of relief, feeling as though the footing was finally stable beneath her feet. This Cas, she knew. This Cas, she could work with. "Cas, I have no idea what's happening. There's another Castiel who says he has something in store for me and he's gonna test me." She looked at Sam, mistrustful and vigilant beside her. "He is testing me now. Dean and Sam came to visit me a couple of hours ago and someone took Dean. We need to save him." She nodded to the demon sulking in the corner. "Crowley's helping us."
Crowley's head snapped up suddenly. "Well, hello, darling."
Cas stepped between Sam, Maggie and the apparition of himself that had rematerialized in the doorway. Sam looked confused, Cas—their Cas—and Crowley, bemused and maybe a bit angry.
The future-or-past Castiel was fixated, blue eyes sparking. "Maggie. Don't be afraid, time will teach you what I meant. You know I would never let anything hurt you. Or Dean." He pressed his lips into a thin line, looking away. "I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. Just…do whatever you do best."
"Castiel." Maggie whispered. "I want to understand."
He was already gone.
"Bloody angels." Crowley mumbled. "No offense."
"None taken." Cas relaxed his rigid stance, turning to face them. "I must look into this matter. I will return. Soon."
He disappeared, and Sam didn't hesitate to take charge.
"Okay, look. We need weapons. We only have on angel-killing blade. If this other Castiel is sending his army against us, then we're gonna need a lot more than that. Holy Oil. Enochian sigils inscribed all over the house. Mags, do you still have those can of spray paint Dean used to draw Devil's Traps outside your door?"
"Kitchen pantry." Maggie replied.
"Great. Use those to angel-proof in here."
"And me? Would you like me to just sit on my hands, looking pretty?" Crowley asked lazily.
"No, you can help her. One of you takes upstairs, one of you takes downstairs." Sam grabbed Dean's jacket off the couch and fished out the keys. "I'm gonna get stocked."
Five minutes later, Maggie was using the hand-written note Dean had left taped to her fridge when they'd first started dating as a reference, spray-painting Enochian sigils on the kitchen door. One of the perks to Cas's new powers: sigils no longer banished or withheld him. They could let the good in and keep the bad out.
So when she heard movement in the room behind her, she didn't bother to look, at first. Not until the angel—still an angel—spoke.
"Maggie. It appears there has been a misunderstanding." Castiel's tone was stricken. "These things that took Dean, whatever they are, I didn't send them. My men are already back with me. Whatever is in the basement, I didn't send them. And now Dean is in danger." Maggie didn't answer, didn't even turn to face him, just kept working over the sigil. "If you need my help, pray."
Maggie felt the rush of wind on her back when he was gone; she thumped her forehead against the door and squeezed her eyes shut.
It was too much, too many things piling up. Two Castiels, one present, one either past or future, and Crowley; and Dean missing.
"Now as I'm trying my best to save Dean, I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here." Maggie murmured under her breath, socking the empty spray-paint can into the wastebasket.
Crowley appeared at the top of the stairs above her, leaning his hands heavily on the railing. "The demon is more trustworthy then the angel, how unexpected." Maggie tilted her head back to glare at him, and he sighed. "But in answer to your earlier question, yes, I'll kill whatever I see in this house. Let's me blow off a bit of steam. Would you like me to get some information out of them, too?"
Maggie nodded. "Just don't kill Castiel. He might like to help, I just prayed." She knuckled her eyes. "Holy shit, we have no idea who or what took Dean. Are you sure it wasn't any of your demons?"
Before Crowley could answer, the door opened and Sam stepped in. Grim and silent at first, he deposited his weapons on the coffee table and started rooting through them. When he finally looked up, his face was chiseled with determination.
"Okay, look. I need you to stay here. I know you want to help Dean, Mags, but whatever these are—ghouls or whatever—they're dangerous, all right? They're scary as hell. And I don't want you in the middle of this." When Maggie's eyes narrowed in protest, Sam straightened and grabbed her shoulder. "I'll get Dean, I swear. Nothing's happening to him while I'm around."
Maggie considered fighting him on that; then again, the last time she'd tried to follow Sam on a hunt, he'd literally tied her to a chair.
"Sam, be careful. Dean warned me to be careful."
Sam just smiled and turned away, and the fact that he wouldn't promise anything made Maggie's gut clench.
"I changed me mind!" She stepped closer to him. "I want to go with you! I can do it, Sam, you can't go there alone. Sam, please, let me help!"
Sam dropped his head, hair sliding into his eyes. Then he grabbed his duffle and stepped past her, stopping just long enough to push his hand back through her hair, forcing it off her forehead and rocking her head back with the motion.
Then he was gone, down the steps into the basement.
"Lovely. Goodbyes are always so heartwarming." Crowley yawned. "I'm going to make myself scarce and wait for some unsuspecting little devil to fall right into my trap."
And just like that, he was gone.
Maggie moved back to the task of casing the bottom of the house in Enochian spellwork. She'd almost gotten to the front door when it slid open, sending her scrambling for the gun on the bookshelf.
Two seconds later, she was standing stock-still, staring at the angel that'd first introduced her to the realm of the supernatural: the one who'd saved her life on a whim and started the whole crazy spiral that had led her to Dean and Sam months ago.
"Helloooo, Sunshine! I'm home!" Gabriel leaned his arm against the doorpost above his head, smirking. When Maggie just stared at him, mouth agape, he threw up his hands. "What? I figured with all of your other lovely little pals coming out of the woodworks, I would come join them. Being in hiding is boring anyway!"
The immediate question: "Dean told me you were dead, how are you not dead?"
"Oof, no need to shout!" Gabriel chided, flattening his hands briefly over his ears. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed to her. "See, that's the thing. Big Brother Luci taught me all his tricks. But that was a long time ago. What he didn't know? I've developed a lot of new little devices while I've been down here. Such as," He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. "Fake wings?"
That didn't clear up much, but it also wasn't the most pressing subject at hand. "Gabe, something took Dean. We could use your help, honey. He's in the basement, Sam went to get him. Please, go help him!"
Gabriel canted his head. "Whose basement? Your basement? 'Cause I smell blood, all right, but it's old. Whatever was down there is long gone. Sam's gone, too. Must've taken the cellar door out. So I guess he found his brother's trail and he's gonna go diving in head first, like always. I swear, these people never learn."
Maggie just stared at him, feeling the fissures in her composure widening. Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically.
"All right, fine, I'll help those two yahoos out." He threw out the sides of his jacket, gave Maggie a look that suggested he was being a real hero in all of this, and backed out the door.
Maggie didn't even fight it a minute later when her phone rang. Part of her felt like she was welcoming it, that chance to find out what was going on.
"Sam's in your closet."
Maggie was done playing games. "What? Who are you? Is Dean safe?"
The call cut out. Maggie was about to toss the phone back onto the couch when she saw Cas standing at the foot of the stairs.
"Cas?"
"I can't locate Dean, my other self hid him well." Cas looked like he didn't know whether to be proud or aggravated by this knowledge. "Are you sure the demon has nothing to do with this?" Maggie shook her head mutely and Castiel heaved a sigh. "I shall be watching out for you. The best thing you can do is to play along. Keep together and be careful."
"Wait!" Maggie stepped toward him. "It turned out it wasn't the other Castiel. He doesn't know who or what took Dean. Sam went to save him, but I sent Gabriel over to help Sam." She took a deep breath. "I'm scared, Cas."
Cas's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Only the most powerful creatures could hide something from me. Please ask Crowley to see if any of the high rank demons are planning something. I sent my angels to look into the matter." He shifted from foot to foot. "This is not good. I have some suspicions, a lot of them actually, but all of them are equally unlikely." He blinked, then closed his eyes tightly and touched two fingers to the side of his head. "Gabriel? Brother, is that really you?" He nodded very subtly. "What happened? Why are you here?" He went still. "I understand. We will discuss this later." His eyes flashed open. "I am staying with you, Maggie."
"Wait, you can read other angels' minds?" Maggie demanded.
"All except for my own." Cas lowered himself heavily to the bottom step. For the first time since Maggie had met him, he looked dazed. "Gabriel. I cannot believe it. He was hidden for so long, I truly thought—"
The phone in Maggie's hand buzzed to life. She yanked it up to her ear, closing her eyes. "Hello?"
"If you ever want to see Dean again, you will need to do exactly as I say, or I will kill him without a second thought." A pause. "Are you going to follow my rules?"
At least they were finally making some kind of demands. "Whatever you wish, motherfucker."
The flutter of a trenchcoat brought Maggie's head swinging up. She couldn't see anything, but she could feel that presence, somewhere, maybe above them.
"Maggie." Castiel's voice came from nowhere, and Cas adopted an ill expression. "I am in your house now. Where are you? Where's Sam? Something's hiding you both from me."
The sigils. She was already starting to regret that.
"Castiel, the thing that took Dean. It wants me to follow its orders now or Dean dies. What am I supposed to do?"
Castiel appeared in the doorway, the only place not absolutely coated in angelic script, and Maggie turned toward him, meeting his urgent eyes. "Sam went to the basement, but I think he caught Dean's trail and climbed out. I sent Gabriel to go help him."
Castiel nodded and disappeared again, not even questioning Gabriel's presence. Probably future, then, from after he's revealed himself. Or very far in the past, before he died. Pretended to die.
Freaking angels.
The hum of silence broke on the phone line. "Dean is going to die." A bout of laughter like nails on a chalkboard brought Maggie's hackles up.
"He's not! You, on the other hand—"
The voice—the ghoul, it had to be—cut her off. "Try the neighbor's basement. Demons hide strange things everywhere. Dean is safe, but Crowley has to explain himself."
Maggie's fingers went numb around the phone. "Crowley!"
