A/N: I don't own anything. Crowley's death was hard for me to deal with. It was stupid and sucked and I'm mad. So, I started this. Enjoy.
*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*
When Dean had received the text, he'd wondered if they could trust it. But something in his gut was telling him that he needed to answer the summons.
Now, he was standing at the entrance to Needham Asylum in Fall River, Massachusetts with Sam at his side. They had no solid leads on how to get their mom back from the portal, they missed Cas, and they could only guess why someone from Hell would want a meeting with them.
"The queen will see you now." A demon said. He was dressed in an impeccable suit, the same way Crowley had always had them dress, but there were subtle differences. For one, they reminded him more of soldiers than businessmen.
"Queen?" Sam asked and Dean was grateful. He hadn't thought to question that part, he felt unusually distracted.
"Please follow me." The man said as he turned and walked into the building.
Stepping into the entrance, he was expecting to see dirt and leaves covering the ground, much like it had been. Instead, his boots touched clean stone. The whole place looked as if it had been scrubbed from top to bottom and the furniture was definitely new. Opulent couches and chairs, rugs, and throw pillows were scattered around the room. Cloth covered the windows and walls, creating a cozy atmosphere despite the size of the area.
Walking towards the stairs, Dean noticed paintings of landscapes, mostly forests and things. Some were paintings of animals, though, or hunts. One in particular, at the top of the staircase, gave him pause. At first it looked like random smears of black, gray, white, and red. The longer he stared, the more he realized it was creatures. He couldn't figure out what they were but he thought he saw a few hounds, horns, antlers, and tentacles. A chill raced down his spine when he saw the title of the painting. The Wild Hunt.
A throat cleared and he forced himself not to jump. He turned towards Sam and the demon where they stood waiting patiently in front of a large set of double doors.
"Right, the queen." Dean said as he started walking again. He didn't want that picture at his back but he didn't have much of a choice.
The demon knocked and the doors opened with a flourish. He didn't know enough about this new leader to know if they were putting on a show or if this was always how things were ran.
"Thank you, Frederick." A voice said and Dean caught sight of the throne finally. It was on a dais with two chairs on either side. Both chairs sat lower than the throne. Sitting in the two lowest seats were two teenagers. One boy and one girl. They were dressed like royalty, the girl in an elaborate gown with her hair pinned up and the boy wore a suit with coattails and sashes.
Dean felt his anger rise as he looked at them. He knew that demons took whatever vessel they wanted, but they could at the very least choose adults, not children.
"Do not be angry, Dean." The woman on the throne said and his eyes immediately fell on her. Her black hair was so dark it looked like it was formed from shadows. Her skin was the palest ivory he'd ever seen, like moonlight, or snow. Her lips were a deep red, like fresh blood and her black eyes were startling. Not because they were demon eyes, but because only the sclera was black, the irises were blue fire and the pupils were as white as her skin.
"What's this about?" Sam asked as Dean glared at the woman. "What are you?"
"I'm the queen of Hell." She said and Dean caught a glimpse of razor sharp teeth lining her mouth.
*"The King is dead. Long live the King."* Rang out through the building and Dean looked at Sam with wide eyes. This was not the Hell Crowley had ruled. These were loyal, faithful, soldiers. Dean got the feeling they'd just walked into the lion's den.
"Don't worry, Dean. I have no quarrel with you." The woman said. Dean's eyes went back to the teenagers sitting at her sides and she sighed as if she was weary. "I want to talk to you about an alliance."
"An alliance? Against what?" He couldn't help his suspicions. Crowley had mentioned before about closing the gates of Hell but he was dead now.
"Did you think that the British Men of Letters you killed on American soil were the only British Men of Letters left?" As she stepped off the dais, Dean was surprised to see that she was actually quite short.
She wore deadly looking high heels on her feet and a crown on her head. He was surprised that this was the first time he'd noticed the crown. It was some kind of black metal, with red and black stones set in an intricate design. He'd never seen Crowley wear a crown.
"Crowley was dramatic, but a different kind of dramatic. He preferred a more understated look." She told him with a smirk.
"Wait, can you read my mind?" Dean asked her angrily.
"Only a little." She told him as if was no big deal but also a point of contention.
"Well, stop." He growled at her, looking towards Sam. "What do you care about the Men of Letters? I though Crowley was working with them?"
"Don't presume to think you knew him." The woman said disdainfully.
"We knew enough." Sam's voice dripped with scorn and suddenly the woman's face transformed. Dean had originally thought she was beautiful, in a surreal way. Now, she was still beautiful, but it was a terrible beauty. A beauty meant to destroy.
Her features sharpened, her nails lengthened into claws and she hissed at Sam. Despite the youngest Winchester being about a foot taller than the woman, she gave him pause.
"You knew NOTHING!" Her red lips were curled back from her teeth in a snarl and Dean noticed that both of the teenagers had stood up. They still looked like normal teenagers, but he had plenty of experience with demons. "You stand there in all of your self-righteousness, holding contempt for a man that you never gave a single chance. You can take your self-righteousness, your *piety*, and leave. Let it burn you alive."
She spit the word piety as if it was an insult, and it was clearly meant as one. She looked as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Wait." Dean called out in a pleading voice as all of the demons in the room turned to face Sam. "Just wait."
The woman turned towards him and he could see the rage in her eyes, but underneath that was pain. A lot of pain.
"We didn't know a lot about Crowley, we admit. He was kind of hard to get to know." He tried to reason with her.
"He betrayed us at every turn." Sam said and Dean looked at him, his eyes wide as he pressed his lips into a thin line. Usually, Sam didn't react this way. He wasn't a malicious person. He was actually one of the kindest people Dean had ever known.
"He saved you!" She yelled as Sam was slammed through the double doors and flung down the stairs. The woman followed him, her hand raised towards him as he slid across the stone floor and towards the front door. Dean followed after them, trying to run towards Sam but unable to get past the crowd of demons.
"He deserved better from you!" Sam's back was pressed against the front doors but the doors didn't open. "I will demand better! Because I. Am. The. QUEEN!"
*"The King is dead. Long live the King."* All of the demons around them said and then Sam was shoved out the door, his body not even touching the stone steps. He hit the ground and rolled. Dean ran out after him and the doors to the asylum slammed shut.
The night air was completely silent, not even the wind dared make a sound as Dean helped Sam to his feet.
"What the hell is she?" Sam coughed out. Dean looked him over for injuries but he didn't seem seriously hurt. Just a few bruises, really.
"What was wrong with you in there?" Dean asked him as they headed for the over-grown driveway that led to the road and the Impala.
"I don't know." Sam said as he thought back to what had happened inside the asylum. "Everything felt amplified. Intense."
Dean didn't reply but he couldn't stop thinking about it as they drove back to the hotel they'd rented for the night. There were too many things they didn't know. Who was the queen? What was she to Crowley? Why had they never heard of her? Who were the two kids sitting on their mini-thrones beside her?
As they trudged inside, both dropping down onto the beds, Dean thought carefully about his next words.
"I think we need to set up a new meeting." He wasn't sure how Sam would take this. "And I think only I need to go."