AN: This is mostly like this because of my friend Freddy.
I accidentally made her sad with one of my other fics (sort of…) and I know she really likes Crowley.
I just decided to kill two birds with one stone while I wrote it. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, Crowley, or you. I just write this for fun, and make no profit from this (unless making other people happy is considered profits…)
You wake up slowly, feeling very groggy and out of place.
Your head is pounding and you feel very sore, but you can't place why.
As you open your eyes to see where you are, you see nothing. No light, no door, no window, nothing. Solely a pitch black empty room.
That is very small…
And has satin…
You reach up only to have your hand abruptly hit the top of whatever you're in.
Slowly you feel around, and much sooner than you'd like, you find out what's happening, and this discover makes you wish you were dead.
You've been buried alive.
You're six feet under, with a limited air supply, and concrete surrounding your casket, you just know it!
You want to scream, to cry, to use all your energy to get out, but two things stop you.
One, you'd rather go quietly. And two, maybe your family listened to you and put a bottle of pills in your casket in case you ever ended up in this very situation!
You feel around, trying to keep your calm, but all you can find is soft satin and hard wood.
Tears starts to well up in your eye, but you have no clue what to do.
Even if you were to claw and scratch and do everything you could to get out, you would never be able to break through the concrete. Not without a jack hammer. Besides, it's too small for you to do anything.
Might as well just let it happen…
But you want to live!
Why, oh why did you have to be like this?
To wake in total darkness when all you want is fresh air and even some sunshine!
When all you want is to wade in a pool of water or feel the soft grass beneath your bare feet.
The quiet is deafening, and the darkness is consuming.
Yet, these all work to help you.
Help you imagine.
Help you remember…
'What was that spell again?' you think to yourself, a bubble of hope beginning to swell within you.
You rip the satin off the top above you until you feel only smooth wood. As you reach your arms to the sides, you feel a piece of metal knick your fingers.
'Perfect.'
Blood starts dripping from your finger, and as you draw the sigils you had found related to that famous cross roads demon your friend seemed so obsessed with, you remember the spell.
"...Et ad congregandum...eos coram me."
You know you're missing the candles and some other ingredients, but you choose to ignore that.
'Demons aren't real anyway. This is just to help myself pass the time until the air runs out,' you try to convince yourself.
As you finish, your heart starts pounding.
'Nothing is going to happen,' you tell yourself.
The seconds tick and you're right, nothing happens.
All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the air whooshes near your feet.
'Wait, what?'
Wooo
That's definitely the sound of air, but how can that be? You're underground in an airtight container.
"Hello, darling," a voice says besides your feet.
A shiver runs up your spine as a hot breath crawls up your bare leg. Fear courses through your body, but the adrenaline makes you freeze in terror.
"Oh, don't make that face. You should feel honored. It's not often that I find myself between a woman's legs. But then again, it's not often I find myself in a coffin with a potential client..."
The blush burning your cheeks breaks the paralysis but all you can do is bite your lip nervously. Obviously this is a man, and to be so suggestive when first meeting! It makes you a bit uncomfortable. Even more so than having your fear of being buried alive confirmed.
You immediately tense up the moment you feel a body brush against yours, and then a forearm placed besides your head.
"Oh, come now. Relax! We can't have any fun if you're going to get up tight, now are we?"
You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to shake away the delusion, but this being (obviously not a human) is still there.
With a click of his fingers, a small fire starts in the corner.
You recoil from the sudden, intense light, and gulp when you remember fires need oxygen to burn.
'My air!'
"Don't worry," the mysteries man says from above you. "You'll still have plenty of air while we talk through this negotiation."
You stare up at him once your eyes adjust and take in his features.
'Late 30s, early 40s. Caucasian. Square face. Scruff. Not too bad a look on him. Laugh lines... He's expressive, probably.'
"You obviously know who I am seeing as you summoned me. It seems like the common courtesy would be for you to introduce yourself too, no?"
This throws you off. How could you know him? You've never seen this man before! But if this was a demon, shouldn't he already know who you are too?
"Well, if you're just going to stare at me like a deaf mute, I think I'll leave. I have actual clients waiting for me at the moment."
He starts pushing himself down and away from you but your hands immediately shoot up and clutch onto his black coat.
"No!" your horse voice loudly whispers to him.
"She can speak!" he responds with mock enthusiasm.
He comes back up towards you, then makes himself comfortable on your bosom.
'Yeah, this is awkward…' you think to yourself as you feel him settling his head on your chest. The light still burns behind your head so you see the shadows cast over his face.
You must admit, he's pretty handsome. Not your type, but he could probably grow on you one day.
Of course that would require you to survive this ordeal…
Looking at him strains your neck though since the space within the coffin is so small, and he's directly below you.
Rather than continuing to look at him, you look up at the top of the casket.
'Wow. That was a pretty good sigil,' you think to yourself in shock.
"Yes, I agree. Very well done for having been in total darkness. You seem to have a good imagination," he says. You feel more than see his smirk when he comments that, and the blush from before comes back full force.
"Th-thank you," you managed to stutter out.
Your voice sounds so odd. It's almost as if you haven't used it in a long time. But how could that be?
Now that you think about it, you don't even remember the events leading up to your "death."
"So, are you planning on introducing yourself anytime soon?" the mysterious man below you questions.
"Oh, uh… I. I'm [Y.N.]. [Full Name]."
"Nice to meet you [Full Name]. Tell me, what can I do for you?"
'Am I just asleep? I don't know what's going on…'
Fear runs through your body but you have no clue what to do.
As you stare up at the sigil, the words tumble out of your mouth: "I want to live…"
"That can easily be arranged," he responds quickly. "All you have to do is pay with your soul, and seal the deal with a kiss."
Images of jinns and evil genies that grant your wishes but in a horrible, unwanted ways play in your mind and soon you find yourself staring down at him and saying "Not yet. We have to talk about this. You won't be screwing me over, you go that."
'God, I must really be dying,' you think to yourself. You're not one to call someone out or accuse them of stuff without proof. You don't even know this man or what he does or if he's even a good person, and you're already assuming he's bad.
All you can think is maybe this is a figment of your imagination as you take your final breaths and experience your last moments.
The deep, sensual chuckle on your bosom takes you out of your thoughts however as the mysterious man agrees.
"You have a point. We need to talk. My meat suit hated working as a lawyer; that's why he became a literary agent. But I'm just more adept at this whole lawyer business, I'd say. So, let's talk."
After some more time, you begin to warm up to him (and get used to using your voice again) so the talking goes pretty smoothly.
You understand you only have ten years to live now, but you obviously won't be living in here. He'll help get you out and then all you have to do is kiss him to hand over your payment.
"What if something happens? Like, I get sick and end up dying of cancer or some other disease before my ten years are up?" you ask.
"If that's the case, well we'll still be cashing in. The deal is that I'm helping you out of here so that you can live your life. If by living your life you end up dying before the ten years are up, then that's on you. We don't do any sneaky business with our clients so we expect them to pay up, no matter what."
"Ok. Sounds good to me…"
With that, he gets back on his forearms again and leans over you.
You stare up at him, and bite the corner of your lip nervously.
"So… what now?" you ask.
He chuckles slightly and says, "Well, my dear, this is usually when we close the deal.
He gets closer to you to do so, but you gasp.
"What's the matter?" he asks. "Regretting your decision already?"
"No, no. Just, I've never been kissed before…"
He leans as far back as he can upon hearing this and gives you a once over.
"How old are you?"
"[Your age]."
"And you've never once kissed anyone before?"
You shake your head meekly. Suddenly the knot of his tie becomes very interesting, as does the specks of dust on his shoulders.
Oh, wow, your nails too.
And looking down now, you just realize you're wearing a rather pretty purple dress.
'No wonder I felt his breath against my leg!'
"Well, let's make sure this is a good one," he says, ghosting his mouth over your lips.