Author's Note: Right, I have no idea where this came from. One minute I'm happily borrowing my mam's laptop to answer some questions in several private messages, the next I'm suddenly typing away like crazy. I blame Sam and Crowley for this, I really do.
I need to say a massive thank you to everyone who has pm-ed with words of encouragement during my own horrible Hellatus, which is due to GCSES and a comatose computer. Thank you so much guys for sticking by me with such patience! Please grin and bear it a little longer and hopefully I'll soon have a TONNE of updates for you. Until then, take this as a peace offering. Care of my recent obsession with a certain English demon. ;)
Warning: Me being me, this contains swearing, scenes of violence/torture, and constant bickering between hunters and demons alike (Cas is apparently too polite to argue. :P) If offended by any of the aforementioned, then stay away. :L
Disclaimer: As always, I do not own Supernatural. Not even a teeny knife or weeny gun.
Dedicated to: The awesome Wicked-Freakin-Witch, aka Bobby. She's been my long-suffering first reader for many, many fics, plus she's Lord SPN. So this is me showing her off. :P You're amazing Bobby, and thanks for everything. :L
"One Simple Plan"
"So I did the only thing you can do when you are trapped in a corner: I chewed my way through the wall."
~Scott Adams~
Present
Sam Winchester did not like demons.
Infact, Sam Winchester would gladly admit to hating the black-eyed sons of bitches.
True, he had continuously slept with one and drank her blood, but… But that had been different. Totally and utterly different. And that had also been a long time ago. Kind of…
Anyway, he had been pretty screwed up back then. After all, he had seen his brother ripped to shreds in front of his very eyes by hellhounds before being dragged to Hell, like he was some bloody valentine gift for them. Sam had been full of anger, hate, rage and depression and all too ready to listen to the honey-coated words of sulphur pouring from…Ruby's… Mouth.
She doesn't deserve to be known by a name.
He had been lead down the road to ruin and as a result, vowed never to be led astray by a demon ever again. Not ever. He would never allow himself or his brother to think that demons could ever help them; would ever want to help them.
Which all lead back to the same thing. Sam hated demons. Hated them for what they stood for, for what they did. For what they reminded him of.
Himself.
He, the once expectant 'King of the Demons' and now the vessel of Lucifer. He was considered an abomination, and Sam knew that there were days - terrible, blood-filled days- when even Dean would look at him as if he was. It hurt to know that, but hey, wasn't truth meant to hurt? All Sam could do was keep his head down and fight the good fight against evil in his attempt to earn forgiveness and redemption. And he would not even consider thinking of listening to a demon's 'advice', not matter how tempting it may seem.
Sam Winchester hated demons. Hated being around them. Hated seeing them possess an innocent and unsuspecting human and run riot. Hated seeing their eyes turn black, knowing that maybe, just maybe, someday his eyes would do the same thing. Hated knowing that once he had drank their blood. Hated remembering the hot, sweet and spicy liquid burning in his throat, making him feel all-powerful. He just disliked thinking about them, full stop.
Which made his current predicament all the worse. For not only was Sam Winchester thinking about a demon, he was actually with one. And not just with one, but rather… Locked up with one.
Could his day get any worse?
Looking at his cellmate, Sam sighed. The full realisation of the situation he was now currently in hit him like a slap in the face.
Oh yes. Oh yes it could.
Three days previous
"I do not understand." Castiel's voice travelled to where Sam was standing, having paused in his sluggish journey to Bobby's kitchen. He was tired – no, exhausted – and had slept in. Surprisingly, Dean had let him lie in and had not instead woken him up at the crack of dawn. Sam had to thank him for that; these past couple of weeks had been non-stop and he had barely gotten any sleep.
Not that he had wanted to sleep. The dreams he had were traumatic to say in the least, full of whispers said by a velvet voice, promising him all sorts of wonders if he would just give in. The images of fire and smoke, of death and destruction… Sam shook his head as if he could dispel those images with a single movement. He could only pray that he and his brother, plus Bobby and of course Cas could save the World before what he was dreaming would actually become a reality. He sighed. That was if they could actually save the World.
Before he could let himself dwell to deeply on that thought, Sam forced himself to continue to walk towards the kitchen, hearing more of the conversation that was already taking place there between the other members of Team Free Will, plus Bobby, of course.
"What don't you understand, Cas?" That was Dean this time, with an edge of exasperation to his voice. Sam couldn't help but smile – apparently Castiel was finding yet another aspect of day-to-day human life confusing. Something that was becoming all the more frequent after Cas being completely drained of his 'Angel Mojo', thus making him become more and more human as the days went on.
Sam's smile faltered. Poor Castiel. It must be harder than Dean or he had previously thought; this struggle of adapting from his angelic existence to a more meagre human one.
But the questions Cas asked and the way he asked them were still funny at times. Sam found himself smiling again at the memory of some of the funniest questions.
He was nearly at the kitchen now.
"Why does that Doctor…" Here Cas was apparently stumbling over the words, "…Sexy… not just admit his feelings for that female doctor? Why must they always fight? I thought they loved each other. That does not seem like love to me." Castiel sounded utterly confused. To be honest, so was Sam. Since when was Dean encouraging Cas to watch that horrendous show?
All the same, he couldn't help but laugh, and laughed harder when he heard Dean shouting, "Shut up, Sam!"
"And you said you weren't a fan." Sam said through his laughter. He heard Dean grumble something along the lines of, "I am not a fan. I just… Watch the show…"
He was still laughing when he entered the kitchen. The table was surrounded, bar one empty seat, and there was one hefty looking pile of books and papers crammed into one small corner of the table. Sam glanced at the occupants of the full seats. According to Castiel's still bewildered look, Dean had not answered his question. And judging by Dean's flummoxed one, he wouldn't be answering. Bobby simply rolled his eyes at Sam over Dean's shoulder before settling back down to look at his latest research.
Resorting to shaking his head at Castiel, Dean glanced up at his little brother.
"Hey, Sam. You sleep alright last night?" The concern was evident in the question, as was the unasked one – 'anymore visits from Lucifer?'
Sam shrugged. He wasn't going to admit that although he had had a nice long lie-in for once; it had still been filled with the late night showing of 'The Apocalypse.' He saw Dean's eyes narrow in suspicion, and quickly decided to change tactics.
"Yeah. Thanks for letting me sleep in. I owe you one." He said, pasting a smile on his face. Dean didn't look convinced, but perhaps in the interest of keeping the mood peaceful, nodded and thankfully for Sam dropped the subject. A quick glance at Castiel, however, told Sam that although the angel was still puzzled over the latest episode of 'Doctor Sexy MD', he looked at Sam like he knew fine rightly that Sam was lying. But he made no comment, and Sam breathed out a breath he had no recollection of ever holding.
Tricky situation momentarily passed…
"Bobby," Dean turned his chair around the table to face the older hunter and his pile of papers, "You said that you'd heard something from one of your friends last night." Dean looked at the man he had come to regard as his father-figure. Bobby kept his eyes on the book before him, not meeting Dean's eyes. Dean wasn't giving up, though. "Care to fill me in?"
Bobby sighed, and looked caught out. Sam raised his eyebrows – what was going on? This wasn't like Bobby. He never kept things hidden from them. Unless… Sam pulled up a chair and sat beside Castiel, who mercifully no longer looked confused but instead wore his expressionless face they had come to know so well. Sam, however let his attention return to his older brother and Bobby. Who had set down the book he had been studying and looked at the older Winchester.
"Look, I didn't want to say anything, Dean, 'cause I knew that you being the eejit that you are, you would be flying down there as soon as!" The older man thundered, but Dean just rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth, about to argue, but the older hunter kept going. "And we don't fully know what's going on, anyway-"
This time, however, Dean managed to get a word in. "Then let us go down to – where is it? Somewhere in Michigan? – and sort whatever it is out." Dean folded his arms as if to say it was a case closed. Sam was about to confirm Dean's verdict –
So much for keeping the mood peaceful today, Dean-
when Bobby exploded.
"Boy, you already have a full plate as it is! I am not lettin' you, guns blazin' as always, go into a potentially dangerous place!" Bobby stood up, blistering with fury. Sam could understand why. All the fear and heartbreak his brother and himself had put their father-figure through over the past few years, and even now, when they had demons and angels after them as well as Lucifer and goodness knows what else, Dean wanted to take on more supernatural things. It was enough to make a man scream in vexation, and apparently it was Bobby's time to scream.
Dean stood up too, looking frustrated. "Bobby, you know as well as I do that we are gettin' nowhere when it comes to ways on takin' Lucifer down. Yeah, we have the rings of the four horsemen, but that's it! Not even a back-up plan!" Dean was really ranting now, and Sam found himself sighing, and completely zoning out. He was slightly shocked, but only slightly, at what Dean was saying, and how tired he sounded. After all, how many times had Dean said pretty much said the same things to him; how they couldn't stop the whole 'end of the world' and how 'done' Dean was. Sam was now used to it, but still shocked him to hear his brother, the hunter who never gave up, just… Giving up.
Sam found his thoughts drifting away, back to the times where it had been Dean who had dragged him everywhere, and not the other way around, as was increasingly becoming the norm. It had been Dean who had dragged him from college, those four odd years ago. It had been Dean who had helped him when Jessica had died. It had been Dean who had been intent on following their father's orders instead of tracking said father down, and had made Sam do the same. It had always been Dean, and although there had been times when Sam had rebelled, it had been something that he had gotten used to. Hell, the fact that he could rely on Dean to look out for him had been comforting, to say in the least.
But now? Now he wasn't so sure what Dean would do. Now it had been Sam who had to force and cajole Dean into moving from one place to another to continue the fight. It wasn't something Sam had been used to doing, but sadly, now he was getting good at it.
His brother was still saying something, his voice rising in sound. Sam suddenly found himself jerked back to reality; to the here and now.
"And you can hardly lecture me Bobby on being sensible and not doing anything foolish." Dean said angrily, "after all, you were the one who made a fucking deal with a demon! After all the times you lectured me about what I did for Sam!" Sam jumped at the mention of his name, and looked for Bobby's reaction to what Dean had just said.
Bobby appeared to choke on his words, before spitting out, "I did that to help you, you ungrateful boy!" He bristled in anger and slammed a hand down on the table, the sudden noise of which made Sam jump again. "I did that to help you! How dare you say that to me!"
Dean threw his hands into the air. "Helpful like when I traded my soul to get Sam back? You told me how stupid I was then, so this is me telling you how stupid you are now!" Before Bobby could interrupt him, Dean continued in rant mode, "How could you have fallen for that, Bobby? Have you even gotten your soul back?"
At Dean's latest tirade, Bobby closed his mouth in resignation. Dean seized the chance. "Well, have you?"
Sam glanced at Cas, who seemed absorbed in watching the reactions of the two hunters during an argument.
So, no help there then. Great, up to me again…
Sam was about to open his mouth to defend Bobby, back Dean up - he wasn't too sure on what route to take – when another voice piped up instead, causing Sam to jump for the third time that morning.
"Not yet. But I fully intend to give it back."
All eyes in the kitchen turned towards the back of the room to find the location of the voice. And saw the owner of said voice.
"Crowley." Dean growled out the name through gritted teeth. "Just the person – oh sorry, demon – I wanted to see." The sarcasm practically dripped off his tongue.
This did not deter the dark-haired demon, self styled 'King of the Crossroads'. He simply smirked at Dean, who ground his teeth in frustration. The English demon had that effect on him. Sam didn't blame his brother.
"Just as well I came to see you, darling. You could always call, you know." Crowley's eyes swept the room, before landing on Bobby. "As I was saying, before Dumb of 'Dumb and Dumber' greeted me with that charming way of his, I do intend on giving you back your soul, my dear man."
Bobby, who had reacted quicker than the brothers, had crossed the kitchen to find his hidden shotgun, loaded with rock salt, and pointed it at the demon. He looked torn, however, between retorting to the perhaps demon ally and looking at Dean as if to say, 'see. I'm getting my soul back. Ha ha.'
Crowley however looked bored at the sight of the shotgun; like he didn't think it would be used on him today. "Oh, really. That again. What a way of treating the person who gave you your mobility back. I'm really very hurt." He pretended to wipe away a tear.
Oh yes, that was right. Crowley had been the one who had succeeded where Castiel could not – he had healed Bobby, and apparently out of the goodness of his black heart. Sam snorted.
Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen.
"I do not trust you, demon." Castiel suddenly spoke, looking up with those intense blue eyes of his. "Leave this place, before I…" He trailed off, as he realised that he couldn't fulfil what he was about to threaten the demon with. Crowley looked at him, his own dark brown eyes glittering as he took in the angel's lack of power.
"Now, that's not very nice, Angel-cakes. I do have a name, you know." Crowley stretched out, before making his way over to the table and perching on the edge of it. "Besides, " he continued, smirking somewhat, "How were you planning on banishing me, exactly? You're out of juice, kiddo." He looked the angel up and down as if to prove his point, while Castiel visibly crumbled. He knew the demon was right, which made him feel all the more depressed – he was too weak and feeble to even smite a demon. How pathetic.
Looking furious that Crowley had made Castiel feel weak, Dean spat at the demon again. "Look, as lovely as this reunion is, what the hell do you want, Crowley?" It didn't escape Sam's notice that Dean did to tell him to leave, but rather to simply talk. It was that which did it for Sam.
"Dean, he's a demon! Why are you bloody talking to him?" Sam growled, causing his brother to look down at him with a sigh.
"Sammy, let's not go through this again, not like last time-"
"No, let's." Sam said, feeling the bile rise in his throat when he saw Crowley's smirk grow more pronounced as they argued. "He is a demon! He isn't helping us to save the world, rather-"
"Helping you to save himself, perhaps?" Crowley interrupted, making Sam turn around to face him with a glare. He couldn't deny, however, that the demon said just what he was going to.
"Yes." Sam ground out, dragging a hand through his hair. "You're just hanging around here because you have nowhere else to go, now that you're being hunted by your own filthy, stinking kind." Sam said furiously. "You're only 'helping' us because you have to in order to survive!"
"And why, pray tell, did I end up like this in the first place?" Crowley still smiled, but his voice took on a dangerous edge, which his English accent only served to highlight. The demon looked at the hunters and sort-of-angel before elaborating. "I helped you out; gave you the Colt. Not my fault if your plan didn't work, as I've said before," he said, seeing that both Bobby and Dean wanted to interrupt, "I helped you out, and now I'm hunted by those who once served me and worked with me. It's all very…Heartbreaking." Sam snorted at that. "As little Samuel said, I truly have no other place to go that isn't filled with those trying to catch me." The emphasis on his full name caused Sam to throw the demon yet another glare, but he only got a laugh in return.
The kitchen fell silent. Bobby still held the shotgun; still pointed it at the outcast demon, while Cas did not take his eyes off the demon either. Sam just glared, feeling naught but hatred for the thing that sat only a short distance from him. He toyed with the idea of throwing the saltcellar that was in front of him at the thing, just to see how it would react. He smirked himself at the thought of what would happen.
Eventually it was Dean who broke the silence.
"You still haven't said why you're here, Crowley." He said, sitting down again with a frown. No doubt he was wondering if the demon was planning something, Sam thought.
That makes two of us, Dean.
The demon straightened, and looked at Dean, before glancing distastefully at the shotgun.
"Well, I came here thinking I would offer some information and maybe even some assistance-"
"Then offer it, you son of a bitch." Bobby growled, before lowering the shotgun and sitting down again too. Sam openly gaped – had everyone gone crazy around here? Throwing a look to Castiel, who merely looked at him with those blue eyes and with no expression on his face, Sam spoke up yet again.
"Um, hello? Are we actually gonna listen to this thing?" He asked, pointing at Crowley whilst looking at both his brother and Bobby. Both of them sighed.
"Might as well. See, Sammy, we need all the help we can get. 'Sides, Mister Crowley here knows that we can make things painful for him if he lies to us, doesn't he?" Dean said, turning from Sam to Crowley, who rolled his eyes.
"Talk about gratitude." The demon said, shaking his head. "I stopped Zombieland from existing, did I not?" Sam, however, felt slightly reassured by his big brother's words and decided to see what information was up for grabs.
"So, talk." Dean ordered, resting his head on his fist, brooking no further arguments.
Crowley smirked again. "Knew you would eventually listen. The bickering you all do! Honestly, you are worse than old housewives, you know that?" He chuckled at the glares he received. "Fine, I'll talk. Well, I could not help but overhear that you were planning to take a trip to Michigan, but you didn't know what all the fuss was about. Darlings," he drolled, "I can tell you what you need to know." He dropped his voice to a theatrical whisper, "I can tell you that it's a little squad of demons who are searching..." Crowley raised his hands and eyes towards the ceiling and continued to whisper. "Quite frantically." He dropped his hands with a flourish. "Ta da!"
Bobby cut through the demon's antics. "What are they looking for?" he asked, already reaching for some papers, as if he could confirm what Crowley was saying. Crowley laughed, and shook his head.
"Not 'what', but 'who.' They're looking for a child." He explained.
"A child?" Dean said, looking confused.
"A child?" Sam found himself asking, wondering what terrible things demons could use a child for.
"What is this, 'Echoes R Us'?" Crowley snapped, looking impatient. "Yes, a child. They need a child to be a vessel, you see. And before you ask," Crowley continued on seeing that several mouths were open already, "they need a vessel for a lovely little fella called Mammon."
"The son of Lucifer." Castiel looked pained. Dean and Sam looked at him in surprise. Since when did the Devil have a child? Was that not the Antichrist?
"Nope, the Antichrist is someone different entirely." Crowley said lazily, prompting Sam to re-think his theory that demons were not mind-readers. "You have already met him, and let me assure you that he seems harmless next to Mammon."
"'Mammon est nomen daemonis'…" Bobby muttered, quoting something from memory. "I've heard of the name before, but I thought that it was something generic; that it could be used for a variety of things. A blanket-like term." He sounded almost hopeful.
"No." Both Crowley and Castiel spoke at the same time, which would have been amusing in any other circumstance. Bobby looked pained now, too.
Dean spoke up, looking shaken. "Care to explain who it is then? How the fuck did the Devil actually have a bloody child?" He sounded exhausted all of a sudden, and Sam didn't blame him. He felt the same way.
"Hey, you're insulting Hell's version of Jesus; the guy who is meant to be my saviour." Crowley said, but laughed. "Not that I care."
"You've gotta be kidding me…" Sam breathed. "Did Lucifer mirror everything God did?"
"Yes, my fallen brother did copy our Heavenly Father, but his creation was twisted and murderous." Castiel said, his voice falling flat. "Mammon is nothing like the true Son Of God and Saviour of Mankind." he finished, while Crowley rolled his eyes.
"Spare me the lesson, angel-cakes. Look, as your little Cas said," he ignored the glare Dean threw at him for using Castiel's nickname, "Mammon is twisted. Totally and utterly determined to make the entire human race his slaves and bow to him, where as lovely Lucifer wants to simply wipe them all out. The Antichrist… Well, to be honest, we're not too sure what he will do. It's all rather vague." Crowley paused, with a sigh. "Actually, seeing as I am no longer part of that 'we', I should rephrase that to 'I' have no idea about he will do."
Dean dragged his hands through his hair, before rubbing his eyes. His day was getting worse, and he'd only been up for four hours! Then again, he should have been expecting something worse than a standard demon hunt. Since when did they ever get anything that easy these days? No, it had to be something related to the apocalypse!
Sam watched his brother with yet more sympathy. It seemed that everything had to go from one extreme to the next for them; that nothing was ever as straight forward as it may have once been. But then again, what else would be expected – Lucifer was running free, after all.
Bobby cleared his throat. "As interestin' as that was, demon, just answer one question. How do we stop him?" Dean sat up straighter, waiting for Crowley's answer.
The demon laughed, before looking at the hunters' faces. On seeing their stony faces, he stopped. "Sorry, I thought you were joking, Bobby." He smirked at Bobby, who tapped the shotgun sitting before him.
"I ain't in the mood for your jokes, you son of a bitch!" He barked, and Sam couldn't help but agree. Once again, he was pretty tempted to throw that saltcellar at the demon – he couldn't listen to another ten minutes of the thing talking and smirking, he really couldn't.
The Crossroads demon rolled his eyes once more. "Really, all the dramatics are quite unnecessary." All the same, Sam noticed how he looked at the shotgun with loathing.
Guess getting shot with salt really does hurt the sons of bitches after all, no matter how badass they are.
Sam also noticed how Dean's foot was tapping the floor due to his impatience.
"Just answer the god-damn question, Crowley. We don't have all day!" Dean exclaimed as the demon looked like he was not going to answer.
"Look, dear little Deano, there really is nothing to answer. You cannot stop Mammon; only his darling daddy can. And believe me; I'm not going to be hanging around to see that, seeing as how Old Nick wants practically every part of me impaled on spikes." Crowley shook his head at the image. "Not something I want to happen to this rather attractive body of mine." He smirked again, while Sam had to force himself not to throw the saltcellar at him. God, the dick was so smarmy. And just…Eugh! He ground his teeth in his frustration.
"He is right." Castiel spoke up, once again surprising everyone. "Mammon, once in a vessel, cannot be stopped. And his reign of terror will be great." Castiel's bottomless blue eyes were solemn.
"Oh, wonderful." Sam snorted. "Just what we've always wanted. Yet another reign of terror." He glanced at Dean. "What should we do?"
His brother looked thoughtful for a moment, while Bobby began to frantically search through the book he had been reading for something. Castiel however, kept his gaze focused on the demon, who had gotten up off the table and was looking outside of the kitchen window.
"How did you enter this dwelling?" Castiel asked him, "After all, it is as demon-proof as a place can be." Sam perked up at that – he had been so focused on getting the bloody thing out, he hadn't been thinking about how he had gotten in. Cas was right – there was salt on every window and doorway, not to mention the devil's traps and various insignias on the walls. Bobby had had to reinforce the security around his home after Lucifer had been set free. There were more demons around than ever now, and even more reason to step up the security.
Crowley merely winked at the angel, before turning back around again to face the window. "That's for me to know, and you to wonder, angel-cakes. Besides, those devil's traps don't work on me, only for lesser demons."
There was another pause while everyone thought about different things. Dean and Bobby on a plan, Castiel was thinking about improvements that could be made to Bobby's 'security system' while Sam just wanted to either leave the room or get the demon to do so. Crowley just looked at the rows of cars Bobby had parked outside, and looked thoughtful about something.
"Cas, you said that once Mammon was in a vessel, he couldn't be stopped. Right?" Dean asked suddenly, breaking the silence that had descended on the kitchen.
Castiel nodded, tilting his head upwards. "That is correct. Not even Michael would be able to stop him once he entered a vessel." Sam inwardly shuddered – Michael, aka the Badass of Heaven, couldn't stop this guy? Hell, the son of Lucifer must be powerful in that case.
Dean raised an eyebrow at this piece of information, thinking along the same lines as his little brother – holy shit, this Mammon is one big bad – but didn't comment. Instead he grinned. "Then it's really obvious what we should do. Simply gank the search team of demons and prevent a vessel from being found." He sat back, looking triumphant.
"So sorry to rain on your parade, but I don't think that will help." Crowley said, whirling around to face the occupants of the table.
Sam, unfortunately, agreed with the smug bastard, and decided that he had to inform Dean of his reason why, regardless of how much he hated having to agree with the demon.
"If they're really looking for a vessel, more will simply come, right?" Sam said, looking at Crowley, who nodded. "Meaning that we could kill demons 'til the cows came home, but it won't stop them coming."
"I don't get it." Bobby muttered, sounding puzzled. "Does your lot, "he said, addressing Crowley, "not know the identity of the vessel? I mean, they all knew 'bout Sam bein'-"
"Lucifer's play suit." Crowley said with a smirk. Sam threw him another glare, but Bobby ignored them both and continued.
"And 'bout Dean bein' the vessel for Michael. So how come they don't know who's unlucky this time 'round?"
Crowley didn't answer right away, as if he was thinking the question over and deciding the best way of answering it.
"It is… Different this time around." He said slowly, as if he was picking his words with care. "It had long been foretold that the Winchesters were the vessels for the heavy-weights, but this time…" He sighed, pausing again. "It's difficult to explain. You know that Heaven is currently divided-"
"How did you know that?" Castiel looked shocked.
Apparently that was meant to be kept a secret, only Hell knows. Oops on behalf of Heaven…
"How did you know that?" he asked again.
"I am- sorry, was -quite high up in the rankings. If you were in the loop, you know about that." Crowley shrugged, and he continued, "Heaven is divided, but so is Hell. Half are totally behind Satan, the other half… Well, they like Mammon's way of doing things. He knows his father is out of the Box, and thinks this is his time to make a bid for power. Well, he wants to go top-side too, and thus needs a vessel. But no-one ever expected Mammon to make an appearance, so there was never any attempt to trace an appropriate bloodline for him for vessels." Crowley shrugged again. "So now Hell's in an uproar. Mammon's determined to find the play suit he needs to go and… play in. He's been told that he could try out a branch of the Winchester line, so he's looking into Michigan where you two apparently have distant cousins or something."
Bobby openly gaped before shutting his voice and breathing out. "Oh. Right."
Dean however was far more vocal. "Dude, we have distant cousins? And why the hell is it always us when it comes to 'hop right in, free ride trains'? It's startin' to piss me off. A lot." He muttered, his green eyes ablaze. Sam was about to say something similar before Dean chuckled. "Maybe it's 'cause we're all hot." He looked at Sam with a grin. "Apart from you, Gigantor." Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the grin from crossing his face. Sparing a glance at Cas, Sam could see that even he was smiling.
"Anyway, back to my plan." Dean said, still grinning. "I guess we could track down our relatives, warn them, gank the black-eyed sons of bitches and then take said relatives somewhere safe." He shrugged. "It's all I've got."
Bobby shook his head, settling down the still-open book. "I dunno, son. Thomas said that he thought there may be at least fifteen demons running riot there. That's a lot, too many for the four of us to take on at once. And as Sam said, even if we did manage to put them all down, more would come to replace them."
"Fifteen once would have been relatively simple for me to tackle, but now…" Castiel slumped again. "Bobby is right. I will barely be of any assistance to you."
Dean looked shocked at the very notion of Castiel going. "You can't come, Cas! You're still injured from your latest exploits! I am not putting you in any danger!" His voice, edged with protectiveness, sounded final, and Sam saw that Castiel looked pained, knowing that what Dean said was the truth. He was too injured still; in no condition to be going anywhere.
Poor guy…
Then Crowley coughed, causing the four occupants of the table to look up. They had quite forgotten his being there. Apart from Sam, of course.
"Thus we reach the 'assistance' part of my being here." The demon said with a flicker of a grin. "Since your little pet angel is out of the question, now he's almost human and pretty much useless-"
He didn't get to finish his sentence as Sam, furious at yet another taunt at Cas, and finally having lost patience with the demon, grabbed with lighting speed the shotgun from under Bobby's nose and fired. The rock salt-filled bullet slammed into Crowley's chest, causing the demon to shout in pain and stumble backwards.
"Fucking hell!" He spat, with a gasp. "Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" He looked murderously at Sam. "Do you know what I did to the last person who tried that out on me? I slowly broke every bone in their body without even touching them!" He fumed, clutching his chest.
"I thought I was the last one to do that." Bobby said, smiling grimly, "And I'm still here, bones intact."
"Well, I needed your soul so I couldn't kill you, could I?" Crowley fumed, "I meant the last one before you. Why do I bother helping you lot out? All I seem to get is shot, threatened or my suits destroyed." He muttered, wincing.
Dean rolled his eyes. "I got shot with that stuff once and it's not that bad." Sam winced, knowing full well that it was because of him Dean had that particular memory. Dean then rounded on him, pointedly glaring before taking the shotgun from his hands. "What was that for, Sam?" He asked his little brother with exasperation evident in his voice.
"I don't trust him! Do you not think it's slightly strange how he comes to us with information on this 'son of the Devil' crap all of a sudden? What has it got to do with him? And why does he want to help us again?" Sam shouted, looking at the still glowering demon.
"You really are as thick as two short planks, aren't you?" Crowley said before Dean could answer. "Look, I'm already on the run from one leader of Hell, so I do not need another one on the loose, do I? If you two knuckleheads stop Mammon from coming top-side, then I've got one less thing to worry about. If I help you do it, then I leave behind no debt. Got it?" Once again, his English accent served to effectively increase the sharpness and edge to his words. "Though after getting shot by you, Mister Hypocrite, I'm starting to re-think offering my help!" He shouted.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Mister Hypocrite? What is that supposed to imply?" he asked, his words laced with venom.
"Come on Sam, this isn't helping! Crowley, stop encouraging him or else I'll pump you full with more rock salt!" Dean snapped, totally peeved off with both of them. Crowley, at the mention of more rock salt, shut his mouth and resorted to glaring. This was the reason he had only worked with Dean before – Sam was a bloody hothead who hated him and his kind.
Sam mutinously shut his mouth also, and Dean glared at them both. "We're gonna need to actually be able to work together if he want to stop another black-eyed sob-" He broke off, glancing at Crowley with a smirk, "No offense."
"None taken." Crowley muttered, once again perching on the side of the table. Castiel briefly smiled at Sam, as if to say, 'thank you for sticking up for me even though I didn't need you to' before fixing his gaze on the older Winchester.
Dean, still smirking, picked up where he had left off, "As I was saying, we need to work together to stop this Mammon guy from escaping the Pit. Understand?" Reluctantly, Sam nodded.
I won't like it – I'll hate every minute - but it does make sense.
Unfortunately.
"So, how is this gonna work?" Bobby asked, looking at the demon with distrust written on his face. "I ain't working with that demon; I don't trust him. No offense." He added as an afterthought.
"None taken." Crowley remarked again, but then shook his head. "Actually, yes. Offense taken." he said, now pretending to look hurt. "I'm the one who gave you the use of your legs back! If you can't trust a man after that, when can you?" He asked with a smirk.
"Ah, that's the point." Bobby said with a smirk of his own. "You ain't a man, demon. And you still have my soul!" Sam laughed, while Castiel merely remained serene looking.
"I was thinking that Sam and I, along with Crowley, head up to Michigan. Cas can stay here, and Bobby, you should too. Yes, I know we'll need numbers," Dean said, seeing Bobby's shake of the head, "But I'd rather you were here, in case we needed more information." He didn't mention the more important reason – Bobby, after spending so much time in a wheelchair, was slightly out of practice when it came to hunts, but Bobby knew what Dean was struggling with and decided to help out.
"I know what you're thinking, son. I would probably be more of a hindrance than a help; I ain't been hunting in a while." Dean threw him a grateful glance while Sam nodded slowly.
"The three of us on a road trip. Great." Sam said flatly, prompting Crowley to laugh.
"Don't worry Sammy-boy. I'll be on my best behaviour. Promise."
"Which isn't promising much." Dean muttered, making Crowley laugh again. "I'm being serious, Crowley. You've nearly gotten me killed several times before!" With a sigh, Dean stood up, followed by his brother. "Guess we'd better get packing then. It's quite the drive." He looked at Castiel and Bobby with a grin. "You two take care of each other, right?"
"Oh, how touching. I wasn't aware that this was a foursome." Crowley said, his eyes glittering whilst he smirked.
Dean ignored the so-called 'King of the Crossroads' and tapped his brother. "Time to get cracking, Sammy. Later, Bobby, Cas." He left the kitchen, humming, 'Enter Sandman' under his breath. He found himself looking forward to hunting some demons. It was sure a hell of a lot easier than taking on angels, or one of the Four Horsemen.
Sam, however, wanted to smash his head of the closest wall. Several hours of driving lay ahead of him and his brother, and they would be accompanied by one of the most irritating things Sam had ever known. How he was going to stand it, he had no idea. Besides, he still had no idea why they were actually working with this demon again… In fact, why were they working with a demon, full stop? It was all bound to end badly, wasn't it?
"Suppose I better get moving too. See ya, Bobby. See ya, Cas." He said, leaving the kitchen and following his brother. When he looked over his shoulder before the kitchen was out of range, he saw that Crowley was staring straight at him, and dropped him a slow wink, before just vanishing. Sam heard Bobby mutter, "I hate it when they do that" which made him laugh, before continuing on his way to pack his bag with some clothes, and stock up on ammo. It was going to be a heck of a long trip. So he might as well be prepared.
Picking up a container of salt and empty bullet casings with a rather evil grin about his lips, Sam felt a bit better.
Now I'm totally prepared.
Woo, a new fic. Full of Bitchy! Sam, Pain-in-the-ass! Crowley and Pretty-peeved-off! Dean.
Oh, I likey. :P If you guys do to, then you know the drill. A review is, as always, greatly appreciated.