Crowley looked down at the broken figure at the table. In the end it had been almost too easy. Possessing the mother to find the prophet, a small spell using the blood of close family to get inside his head – completely, normal, non-demonic witchcraft that would have no problems getting passed the wards on the windows and doors.

Of course, the odious little brat had gotten it into his head to hide the tablet, as soon as he had felt Crowley coming, but getting his hands on that proved easy enough. Let the kid 'escape', he had reasoned, and he'll go straight to it to check on it. Keep him just long enough to completely turn him against the Winchesters – and those boys really had been making it easy for him now, hadn't they? 'A little extra weight'? Really Dean? It had barely taken two days to convince the prophet that it was all their fault.

Now, he had the tablet, and he had the prophet, and after the right… persuasion, he would soon have the trial.

"I- I think I've got it," said the boy, breaking Crowley out of his thoughts.

"Well, what is it?" snapped the demon, impatiently.

Kevin flinched, and Crowley smiled internally. It was nice to have someone who would react with the proper respect. And it had taken so little training.

"The third trial is to kill the king of Hell."

Well, bugger.

That obviously couldn't be allowed to happen.

-o-O-o-

Joy staggered against the wind and tucked her head into the collar of her jacket as the rain lashed up against her. This was insane. It had to be.

But she couldn't do it again. She couldn't lose another child; she didn't care what it took. She could not watch her granddaughter die.

She hoped this worked.

With a foot, she smoothed down the last of the dirt and stepped back.

"And what can I do for you, on this beautiful night?" asked a voice from behind her and she whirled around.

"W-where did you come from?" she stammered.

"You summoned me, didn't you?" asked the man. "You wanted something, I assume?"

Lightning flashed, and she had the brief impression of thinning hair and a well-tailored suit.

"My Granddaughter. She's dying. Leukaemia."

"Ah. Children. They always tug on the heartstrings, make us do anything to save them."

"Can you heal her?"

"If that is what you really want," murmured the demon.

"Of course!" spat Joy. "You think I want to watch her die?"

"I never said you did. But… there is your daughter to consider."

"My daughter is dead," said Joy, looking away. "Even you can't do anything about that."

The demon smirked. "Are you sure about that?"

-o-O-o-

A/N: Hi everyone. So, this is my first supernatural fic. I don't know if it's any good, so please review and tell me what you thought? Concrit is more than welcome!

Oh, and Un-Titled is a deliberate choice, not a lack of imagination. It'll make sense, I promise.

Thanks,

Oddx