Lesson Number Nine

She had vowed never to do it again unless it was necessary. It was a private promise to herself that she had made after the last time she had helped summon a demon. Never again would she help someone that meant the world to her summon a demon to make a deal nor would she summon them period. She would catch them the old fashioned way but tonight was an exception.

It was the first time in a long time that she could ever remember breaking a vow. All her life she had been bound in duty and the power of oaths. She had been taught that once an oath was made, it couldn't be broken especially when they invoked the name of the goddess. Yet here she was breaking an oath and for what?

She pondered that as she set up what she needed to summon the demon. She wasn't going to take any chances either and set up a few insurance policies. The questions rolled through her mind as she worked. Why was she summoning this demon? It wasn't like she was going to make a deal… not unless it was on her own terms and she knew how to invoke those rights. Was it really to berate the demon for the failure of the mission at Carthage? Or was she just plain angry?

It was hard to say since it seemed that one emotion was bound to another. Hell everything had become so blurred. She growled in frustration as she finished the last of her work. She assembled the ingredients and spoke the words she never thought she would utter ever again. It sort of said something about her and wondered what the boys would think of her now.

She stood staring at the burning ingredients in a defiant posture. Her hands were in fists at her side. She looked like one of Death's reapers dressed in black. Her hair, which had become longer in recent months, was swept back into a loose bun allowing stray tendrils to dangle. She looked as she did when they escaped from Carthage. The blood was still fresh on her pants though her hands had been cleaned. A fitting reminder of the fact that her hands will never be clean and it made her clench her fists tighter a she waited.

"You know few know that particular spell since it can summon very specific interested parties."

She didn't have to look to know that the demon was behind her. She merely replied, "Then you must know why I summoned you… Crowley."

Crowley looked at the woman whose back was facing him. He could tell by the clenching of her fists that she was working out some anger issues. At least she hadn't tried to kill him within the first few seconds of his being there. That was usually a good sign in most cases. With her… it could be unpredictable at best. At least he could reply to her. "I take it that it didn't go well with the Colt."

"Thanks for pointing the obvious."

Crowley scowled and was clearly tired of talking to the back of someone. Hell this wasn't even a crossroads so hence no deal. "You know I have little patience for word games Angela."

Finally Angela turned around to face Crowley. She glared full on with her tawny eyes, her fists hanging at her sides. "Funny because I recall that you like to play them especially when you want someone to do something like shoot Luci in the head."

Crowley put his hands behind his back in politeness and started to take a step forward. He didn't get very far and looked around to find that he was within the confines of a very large devil's trap and a good one too. He looked at the angry halfling who was just standing there. "So this is how you're going to play this game? I help you by giving the Colt to kill Lucifer in which you screw up and now you want to kill me?" The last part came out in a shout that was characteristic of the demon.

"Tell me you didn't know that the Colt would be useless. And I might consider letting you walk out of this."

Crowley looked like he wanted to rip Angela's lungs out but to harm one of the more valuable pieces in this game would not be of use to anyone. "I didn't know."

Angela finally moved and walked up towards the demon, staying shy of the boundaries of the trap. She had placed her hands behind her in a similar fashion as Crowley and scanned the demon. He wasn't lying. "Alright," she replied and turned to walk away.

"So that was what this was all about? Me answering a stupid question?" Crowley thought he was going to be stuck there until she came back and stepped within the trap with a knife. Carefully she scraped away part of the paint. Crowley watched as she put the knife away and stood up following through with a punch that sent him flying.

"Consider that my answer."

Crowley stood up. Fine if that was how she wanted it, he would give it. He countered using his own fists. It went back forth until he managed to catch sight of the blood on her and commented, "I'm surprised you haven't freaked out at all the blood that seems to remain on your person."

"Human blood is tolerable. Your kind stinks."

"Really and why is that?" Crowley asked the question with sarcasm lacing it heavily. He then revealed the answer, "Oh maybe it's because you were trained to hunt by it!"

Angela couldn't help but laugh as she pinned Crowley to the wall. "Come on now Crowley. You know the truth about that just like you knew it was suicide to go after Lucifer with the damn Colt and good people were lost."

"So that's what this is all about? The fact that you went in and lost people and looking for someone to blame?"

Angela released the demon and stood back. She didn't let her eyes leave him as she watched him. "Why not? You gave us the Colt and told us to ice the devil just so you can go on living your happy pathetic existence making crossroad deals. If that isn't self serving I don't know what is."

"You really don't get it do you? The three of you numbskulls are the only ones capable of dealing with this little mess that began when you set Azazel free." Crowley moved to the side and away from the wall that he was in. He was in a position to leave but he felt that now was a good time to impart a serious and important lesson. "Since you three are the only ones capable of dealing with this, the deaths of your… friends are on your hands."

"It was their choice to help us."

"And there's the kicker, love. You tell yourself that lie to make you feel better and I bet Sam and Dean do the same as well. No matter how much you tell yourself that they did it for noble reasons, it all boils down to one simple fact: we are all killers."

"Oh that is the way of it with you. Putting…"

"It's the truth, love and you know it. You see I kill people or rather my pets do when a client's ticket is up and you and your kind kill my kind for doing such things. Now really who is the better of us?" Crowley shrugged his shoulders as he watched the stoic face flitter with the hint of emotion. "You see you can try to make distinctions as black and white as you want them to but in the end we are all the same. It just comes down with which is the lesser evil you want to deal with."

Angela had her fists clenched again and held them at her side. How dare he compare himself to her? She managed to say in a controlled voice that would have scared the trucker's hat off of Bobby, "You have no right to compare yourself to me."

Crowley had been walking around and turned around to reply, "Oh but I do have that right. Even more so since you aren't exactly the epitome of humans and the boys you hang out with aren't the gold stars either and yet you three have a part to play. So I suggest you shut your mouth and go back to doing the job you are supposed to."

"Or what? You'll rip out my liver?"

"Don't think that thought hadn't occurred to me but I'm a nice guy and aware that you have issues that even talking to Sam won't cure you of," Crowley replied, rubbing it in, "So regroup and figure out another way before Lucifer burns the world."

Angela gave a slight smirk as she replied, "You are quite a guy when you get angry."

"Bloody halfling."

"An endearing quality."

"And one that fits in with the fact that you are a born killer. Don't forget that, love. You, the Winchesters and every bloody hunter is a killer, even those that don't even see us for what we are. We are all killers. Remember that." With that, Crowley disappeared leaving Angela behind still standing there, digesting what the demon had told her…

~0~0~

Angela blinked as the memory filtered through her mind like her visions did. It was as if it were being played through in front of her. She remembered that conversation well and had never mentioned it to anyone… not even Sam. It was one of her more shameful moments since there was some truth to those words.

It was true that no matter how much justification there was, it was the plain cold truth: they were all killers. Demons killed people and hunters killed demons but the demons were possessing innocent humans at the time. So really there was no difference if you really looked at it. Some hunters were good at shielding themselves from the fact that the meat suits were once home to real humans and would shoot or exorcise without question even though demons did ride their meat hard.

However Crowley was not completely right. There was a difference between them and the demons. Yeah they may be killers but it was the reasoning and intentions that separated the good guys and the bad guys. Heck one could even call it morals and maybe it had to do with having a soul. That would explain why there were things like vampires out there that actually fought to help humans. Yes they were killers but it was how they used that killer instinct or the choice to kill that made all the difference. Angela looked at the despondent face looking at her and wondered how she would be able to explain this lesson that she had learned from a demon no less.

Taking a deep breath, she began, "Dean, about Amy…"

A/N: Bet you folks didn't see that one coming. Angie gets a philosophical lesson from Crowley of all people! But leave it to Angie to modify it when she works it out in her own mind as she talks to Dean. Just one more lesson in the Lesson series and I wonder what that one will be?