Author's Note: So I've been meaning to write this alternate ending for awhile now, and couldn't wait any longer. I apologize if it's been done before, but I looked, and couldn't find anything similar. For now, it's just a oneshot, but depending on how you respond, I might come back to it later. We'll see what happens. In the meantime, please read and review! :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. This is purely for fan enjoyment.

SPN

It was a crisp spring morning. The ground was muddy, the trees were bare, and the chill was invigorating. For the first time in weeks, perhaps months, Crowley felt calm and self-possessed—as the rightful King of Hell should be. While the boys fussed over their precious car, he stood back and weighed his options.

"Be afraid. Your Queen."

Please. Crowley feared no one. Not Abaddon, and certainly not these two whelps. How dare they treat him with such contempt? Especially Moose. He would still be Gadreel's bitch if not for Crowley. Didn't that at least warrant a thank you? But no, Sam would never thank him. He was much too sore from that girl Sarah's death, and he had a way of holding grudges.

Crowley didn't mind Sam's hatred. It came with the territory. But Sam's ridicule? That was crossing a line. After all, Crowley didn't ask to be injected with human blood. His addiction was their fault, and they had the nerve to criticize him? To call him pathetic? Oh, hell no.

When Sam (as predictable as ever) steered his volatile brother towards the demon, Crowley took preemptive measures. Flicking his wrist, he telekinetically hurled them against the Impala, pleased to see the First Blade drop to the ground. Dean groaned, straining impotently against his immobilization. What a turn on.

"You know, boys," Crowley began, feigning regret. "I have to say, I'm disappointed. We make a good team, and between us, I really believe we can… oh what's the word? Gank Abaddon." Dean rolled his eyes while Sam fumed. Crowley sighed. "I thought we could be friends, but the more I sober up, the more I see the truth. You're just using me. And now you wish to kill me. Well, I hate to break it to you, but I'm not that disposable."

He summoned the First Blade to his hand, which clearly alarmed Dean.

"It's no good to you without me."

Crowley met his gaze steadily. "Yes, but as long as I have it, it's no good to you." He turned to regard the younger brother. "Sam." It wasn't like Crowley to speak his actual name, and Sam stiffened, obviously uncomfortable. "Would you care to apologize?"

"Go to Hell."

Crowley smirked. "You know, I tried being nice to you. Even saved your life. But I can't seem to rekindle the bond we shared inside that church." Dean blinked, glancing at Sam in confusion. "Maybe it's cause you failed the trial, and I remind you of that. Or maybe you're just guarding yourself against intimacy. I wouldn't be surprised. How many times were you violated by that sorry excuse for an angel?"

"Shut up!" Sam snapped, breathing heavily.

Crowley relished his distress. "I'll never forget that night. You changed my life forever, Moose. I appreciate your intervention, but I'm still addicted. I'll always be addicted." He crossed the distance between them. "Even now, I'm fighting the urge to spill your blood. To take it all in; every last drop." Sam braced himself while Crowley traced the cut on his cheek with the First Blade. True, the weapon might be powerless without the Mark of Cain… but it was still sharp.

"Crowley," Dean growled. "That's enough. We get it."

"No, I don't think you do," he replied, sparing a brief glance at the older brother. Dean was livid. Twice in one day, he was forced to watch his enemies harass Sam—and nothing was more dangerous. Crowley would be wise to stop… but then he wouldn't be the King of Hell. He focused back on his quarry. "After everything you put me through, I deserve an apology. Not to mention your gratitude. So ask for my forgiveness, or deal with the consequences."

Sam scoffed. "I don't think so."

Crowley leaned in close. "Why? Cause you're so much better than me? Let's just see about that." He promptly turned the blade on himself, slicing his own palm—the sudden burst of pain was nothing compared to the horrified expression on Sam's face. His eyes widened, and he shook his head in a panic.

"You're kidding, right?"

Dean likewise objected. "Crowley, you're not this stupid!"

"Consider it poetic justice. You made me a bloody addict. I'm just returning the favor." Stepping back, Crowley waved his arm and tossed Sam to the ground. He pinned him down with extra force.

"Crowley, stop!" Dean shouted helplessly. "Just think about this!"

"Oh, I have," Crowley assured him. He straddled Sam's chest, planting his knees on the boy's arms—not that he could move them. He tried, squirming miserably, but was no match for the crushing weight of the demon's powers. Crowley took a moment to bask in Sam's predicament. "You can deny it all you want, Moose. But deep down, you're looking forward to this."

"Damn it, Crowley!" Dean renewed his efforts to break free. "All right, we're sorry! I'm sorry! Now let him go, you bastard!"

"If you do this," Sam said with a quiver in his voice. "I won't just exorcize you. I'll kill you."

Crowley ruffled his hair. "Don't worry. You've been clean so long, I reckon you'll need time to readjust to your abilities. Meanwhile, I can teleport in the blink of an eye." Sam bucked, twisting his head away and clenching his mouth shut, but Crowley was patient and relentless. Concentrating, he barely registered Dean's threats as he pried open Sam's jaw.

"Easy does it…" He was meticulous, making sure his blood spilled all the way into Sam's throat. Naturally, the boy gagged, but Crowley clamped his hand over his mouth and waited for him to break. "I hope this teaches you not to judge the iniquities of others. You're just as tainted as we are, Moose. And you will never redeem yourself."

Dean was furious. "You listen to me, you son of a bitch! If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to rip you apart!"

Crowley chuckled, watching Sam's defiance melt into shame. Satisfied, he smeared his blood, none too gently, over Sam's face and climbed to his feet. "Now then…" He met Dean's gaze. "Why don't I hang onto the First Blade while you locate Abaddon? Then, if you still require it, I'll happily provide it, but who knows? Your brother was able to butcher Lilith. Perhaps he's the only weapon you'll need."

Dean bellowed savagely.

Casting one final look at Sam, who languished on the ground, Crowley zapped himself away. Of course, the brothers would seek his life for this, but hell if it wasn't worth the trouble.

SPN