Deal With The Devil

Aryes: Hey guys, Hope you like my new series start! Tell me if it's any good to continue! I love Crowley x Bobby so much! So sassy~! I tried my best to bring out their roles so I hope this series is a good rough draft. Any ideas of other pairings or just ideas are greatly valued! Thank you~

You know you're writing a lot when Bobby accidentally becomes Booby XD

"Bobby, you don't have to do this. I know it's hard for you to do, but it's got to be done. So man up and get this over with!" Rufus declared as he opened the door to Ellen's apartment and Bobby frowned deeper at him as the door slammed against the wall. Rufus never had any tact for the dead and Bobby would bet that when he died Rufus would say the same thing to his sons as they cleaned out his house. 'That's comforting...not.' The bearded man made a mental note to exclude Rufus from cleaning his house if it ever came to that, because the crazy idiot would keep everything for himself and leave none for his sons. Well, that was if the crazy son of a bitch didn't get himself killed first.

Ellen had been a friend to the family who had died in a fire with her one and only daughter Jo, a beautiful girl who had been just like her mother, strong, confident, but stubborn as hell. Now here they both were, sitting on the floor of her garage cleaning out things that were probably here before the stone age judging by the insanely liberal amount of dust on everything. Rufus started on the left and Bobby was on the right, each of them making 3 piles: personal, storage, and throw. Personal basically meant Bobby wanted it, but as he glanced over at Rufus' progress he could only shake his head and mutter an apology to Ellen, because Rufus had so much in his Keep pile and Bobby knew for a fact it was not going to a good home.

"Rufus," The hatted man said with a high pitched patronized tone, "This ain't no garage sale, this is Ellen's, stop grabbing everything that shines and puttin' it in your Keep pile!" The black haired male turned and said, "What! She ain't got no use for it anymore, she's dead. Hell, Ellen would be happy I am using it instead of throwing everything in storage like its all antique art!" Bobby grabbed the bridge of his nose, pinching it in utter frustration, but there was a bit of fatigue lining it so he let the comment go. The next hour was quiet as Bobby found a few photo albums and flip through them with an extreme amount of regret. Regret about the things he never got to say and now he never would be able to. He shut the books away in a box and marked them as "Photos" , pushing them over to the storage pile, which was a decent size by now at least on his side.

Then, Rufus spoke up, "Hey Bobby," it was a casual reminder that he wasn't alone and that he was thankful for that. "I'm hungry so I'll get us a burger at George's, what do you want?" Bobby snorted and looked over at his friend with a very even look that was a cross between "I know you" and a "what are you up to look" as he spoke up, "You won't get me anything even if I ask."

The man shrugged and cast him a glance from the side as a very cheeky smile appeared on his face, "Well, I had to try the whole friend thing, but who was I kidding, I was never cut out for the moping type of friends li-" "Just shut up and get out of here you moron, go and get your damn burger." Bobby waved him away, the last part of the sentence quieter as he looked back to the still large pile of things left on his side of the garage. There was just so much to do with so little amount of mental strength he actually had left, he was so done with people dying all around him. It happened when you got old, but no one ever got used to it and if anyone told they did they'd be lying. It was terrible, it was such a helpless feeling of anxiety and fear, but everyone went through it and it still sucks.

The bearded man dragged himself to finish off the pile, making it his goal to clear this side of the garage before the night's end. To Bobby, that seemed like a pretty high goal as he found himself getting entranced with everything he found near the end of the pile. It looked older than the rest and Bobby guessed it had belonged to a relative of Ellen, most likely it was her mother's or grandmother's. He came across some original copies of some fairy tales, which was rare, but Bobby put them in the storage pile. Then he found a box full of chins dolls in mint condition and Bobby had an internal struggle with them, but eventually put them over in storage, dolls were a woman's childhood and he just didn't mess with them after watching "Chucky".

Then, Bobby came across a few things of interest, there was a box and on it was the word grandpa that was written by an ink quill. The box looked as though it had come from the future in a time warp, it was ripped up in some places and faded in other parts. The box was actually a white chest with a lock and everything, the white peeling all around showing a darker undertone of color. Bobby stood up and pulled the box out into the open, then he heard a door slam shut outside, a car door to be exact. "Hey Rufus," Bobby yelled, hoping the other man would hear him the first time, and to the smaller man's luck he did.

"What?" Rufus yelled back and Bobby could hear the man coming in the front door. "Can you go get a hammer or a big ol' pair snippers-" He heard Rufus go, "What? You want to hammer some hookers, Bobby we aren't that young anymore-" Bobby scoffed and cut him off before he could continue, "No you damn idgit! I want either a HAMMER or a BIG PAIR of CLIPPERS!" Bobby emphasized it and Rufus got the picture and replied as he turned, "I'll go look for 'em." "They are in the kitchen, in a big cabinet somewhere near the sink!" Bobby yelled and he heard something like, 'yeah, yeah, yeah' coming from the taller man in the other room.

Listlessly, the hatted man turned back around to the box, his older eyes observing what could be a century old box at least. It had been heavy when he had pulled it, but it was hard to tell what was inside from just weight alone, but if he had to guess what was inside he'd say more books. Bobby looked at his Keep pile, which wasn't even a pile and consisted of a pen actually. It's not that he didn't want anything, it's just that in his mind this was Ellen's stuff, Ellen's home, and it didn't feel right to take anything. He knew Rufus had been right earlier though, Ellen probably would have yelled Bobby to grow some balls and take a few things, but he couldn't bring himself to do it yet. Even if the stuff belonged to anyone else, Bobby had to really want something for him to take it from dead people.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of Rufus' boots against the hardwood floor as he got closer to the garage. He popped his head through the doorway and said, "Found the hammer, but no luck on the clippers you were wantin'." Bobby shrugged, he didn't care at this point, he just wanted one of the two, either of them would do the job. "Alright, hand it over then, I only needed one of them, well hopefully it will work." Rufus handed him the hammer and Bobby tested it against the lock, just gently tapping three times, then he let loose a huff as he slammed the hammer down. The lock, unable to resist such a power, gave away with a metal bash as it hit the floor thunderously, the sound echoing in the room with an uneasy silence following it.

"Open it up" Rufus said evenly, the sound cutting through the silence like a butter knife and Bobby stared at the box for only a moment longer before he opened the lid. To the brim of the box it was filled with books and papers. Symbols, maps, and letters sticking out of books, but what really caught his eye was the fact that a few of them spoke of Mythology and Paranormal beings, two of his favorite subjects. Bobby felt a nudge at his back and saw Rufus looking down on him with a simple grin and Bobby realized he had been smiling.

"Balls!" Bobby muttered sharply, the grin on Rufus dumb face growing 2 inches wider as he nudges Bobby again. "You know you want the damn things. You and your love of books. Go ahea-" The black haired man said, but Bobby cut him off with a glare and the other man frustratedly looked at him, "Look, Ellen would probably be glad these books are going with you rather than in a storage room where no one can use them." Bobby's glare withered a little as his resolve wavered, '...Ah hell.' Bobby gave up as Rufus shut the lid and pulled it to the brunette's Keep pile, sitting on it so Bobby couldn't change his mind. "Fine, you smug ass bastard. You win, happy?" Bobby half yelled and Rufus said, "No, not until we get done, then I'll be happy."

Bobby had to agree with Rufus, getting done soon would be a blessing. The two men wrestled with the very last of Bobby's side of the garage and then loaded up the junk yard pile first. Rufus making a run and coming back to get the storage pile, which they had to manage getting all the stuff in the damn small storage room. The two then made the last round of cleaning up the house and stuffing their new belongings into the trunk of the truck. They stopped at Rufus' first because he had entirely way too much stuff to get it out alone, Bobby helped him and they got it all down from the truck and place in Rufus' in less than an hour. Then Rufus drove Bobby back to his house with his auto repair shop closed for the day.

Swiftly, they unloaded Bobby's 4 new items: the chest full of books and papers, a single pocket knife that was her husband's, a recipe book that had been in her family, and a picture of Ellen, Jo and her husband before he died. They all looked happy and it was one of the only things the brunette had wanted when going over there, a picture of their family. Bobby had never really been a family person, but the boys had shown him that family could be something fantastic. His sons, Sam and Dean, were in there 20's now, but they had first come to him when they were practically teenagers, Sam around 10 years old and Dean was 16. Their mother had died when the boys were young, but their father died when the boy's were 10 and 16. That was a terrible time to lose your only parent. John Winchester had been a good man who had just been at the wrong place and at the wrong time.

Bobby was the only person the boys knew, and the only person that could take them in, so he did. He had always liked the boys and he had tried to make a life for them, but the way that they were made to come to him he regretted, because no child should have both their parents taken from them like that. It had messed the two up, out of the two of them Dean had taken it the hardest. He became strong, guarded, and became artificial to everyone else except Sam and now Bobby. Sam, on the other hand, dealt with it much better, he cried then he stopped and he worked harder and was smart enough to go to college to be a lawyer, which was where he was now. Dean was out on the road somewhere, taking odd jobs and saying hello when he can, but Bobby is pretty sure he was working with the government.

That's why family pictures meant so much to him now, real family was something you want to carry with you always. A small reminder of what you have and what you could lose if you mess up, and Bobby had it now and he knew what it was like without it. In any case, Bobby never usually screwed up unless it was on purpose. "Dammit Rufus, a little help would be nice ya lazy bum!" Bobby shouted as the dark haired male barely lifted his side of the chest, and they were so close to getting it in the house. It was so late the crickets and fireflies were making an orchestra and the damn idiot won't even get a move on! Bobby wanted some sleep before the rooster crowed!

Eventually, or rather after multiple challenges that Rufus couldn't pick up the trunk and then the ebony haired man taking the item in the house for Bobby to prove his own pride, the chest was settled in a corner of his living room finally. Most things in the mechanic's house were either antiques, books or guns, so the chest fit in better than the older man could have hoped. Rufus sneered at Bobby but it had little effect when he was breathing like a horse who just ran the Kentucky Derby, he would've commented on the fact that Rufus was tired to mess with the man, but despite this mishap, Rufus had been a good friend today so he let it slide. He sat down then watched as the other man approached his fridge and Bobby smiled a little as he said with closed eyes leaning back in his chair, "Top shelf, left side."He heard a chuckle from his old friend as he heard the man say, "I would've have found the stuff without your directions."

After a few moments, Rufus returned with a six pack of cheap beer from Bobby's fridge, but the brunette mechanic already knew that before the other man went into his kitchen, because it seemed whenever the ebony haired man was in his house he needed to get buzzed. "Don't drink more than 2 Rufus, I don't want to have a sleepover and pillow fights in our pajamas. I'd be late working on my cars the next day." He heard the the taller man sneer at him as he sat down near him and Rufus responded, "Oh yeah, you'd like a pillow fight wouldn't you?" There was another part to the sentence that Bobby caught on to when the taller man mumbled after, "I'd win either way." It came from Rufus and echoed a bit in the silence. Bobby's tan hand shooting out to grab the pillow next to his hip but he was too late as he was smacked over the head with a pillow.

The mechanic's hand still managed to grab the pillow and hit the cop square in the front of the chest. Both men's eyes glaring at each other with their eyes ablaze at the thought of winning, and the motion had been set along with the conviction to win. Bobby busted his pillow against Rufus' side while the dark skinned male aimed his larger pillow at the mechanic's head. There was a satisfying sound that came from Bobby's hat when it fell to the ground that elicited a laugh from Rufus, a wheezy one at that, and then Bobby stopped and gave the signal to stop, but Rufus wouldn't have it as he aimed at the smaller man again.

"Wait a minute you moron! If we keep fighting like this we-" Bobby tried to explain, but Rufus was never really the listening type as he shouted, "All's fair in love and war Bobby!" He swung it hard into Bobby's back but the brunette deflected it with his own pillow as he tried to talk again. "The beer ain't gonna make it if you keep swinging that thing around like Zeus and his lightning bolt you idjit!" This made the taller man quit right as he was going in for a head shot, because if there was one thing to stop Rufus from fighting it was for fear of tipping over a can of perfectly good beer.

That was when the ebony haired police man put down his pillow and the mechanic put his down too. What were they doing? Acting like stupid children, that's what they were doing. Rufus stood up after a while, maybe an hour or so, and was obviously about to leave as the taller man went to the coat rack to slip on his dirty old coat. "Drive safely." Bobby commented and Rufus let out a laugh as he spoke, "Bobby, take care of yourself first then worry about me." Bobby's eyes slide away from Rufus as he spoke softly, "I worry for you more than myself sometimes you moron, now get going before I boot you out myself!" The ebony haired man grabbed his hat and placed it on his head, giving the mechanic one more pointed look before saying, "At least get yourself something to eat!" Then, Rufus left out the door into the unforgiving night, leaving the brunette to sit and stew over today's events.

Bobby let out a sigh as Rufus left the house and all of today's events poured over him today, and Bobby felt flashbacks of his life and he pinched his nose with a breathy sigh leaving his lips. He put his head in his hands and just thought, thinking had been a way of coping for him. When Karen his wife died, for days he just sat and thought in the room they had shared, trying to just find peace, but he was unable to, so he tried something else. It was easy to erase memories, even if they were only a little solace to the fact that they were gone, it was what he needed. The memories were there if he ever needed them, but they brought so much pain for him now. Bobby got attached too easily to people, but he had learned that humans were fragile things, that future death was like a boss waiting for you to trip up just once so that they could drag your reputation down and get you fired. Death was all around the brunette and his family, and what was worse was that the people who died were all good people.

Bobby breathed out an uneasy sigh again and stood up, walking into the kitchen making himself something to eat. He would something simple, because right now he couldn't handle mentally making something more than that, he was exhausted. He made a pasta of some kind, actually Bobby wasn't even sure about what type he was making, it was probably angel hair noodles. He also couldn't decide whether he should just add Alfredo sauce or spaghetti sauce, he really didn't care either way. Eating wasn't very high on his priority list right now, but it was necessary for living so he decided that he wanted spaghetti instead.

After he got himself a bowl for himself, he sat down on the couch where he had sat earlier and gingerly he touched his beer which was still a bit cold luckily for him. Beer and spaghetti, he really had stooped low, he was only glad his wife couldn't see him now. Karen would have smacked his hand and went to make a meatloaf along with mashed potatoes with a garnish of some kind, because she was fancy like that. She was also beautiful and wonderful, and no matter how many times Bobby had tried to explain it to her, she would never let him have Italian. She always saw it as the devil's food, and she said Americans should have the comfort food that they created. She had been a beautiful woman, but man was she as stubborn on food as a critic and a restaurant they hate, but he loved her anyway.

He finished the red spaghetti quickly, not caring how terrible it tasted and the fact that he was capable of making something that gross, or that cold. The brunette stood up again, taking his now empty beer can with him and he threw it away at the trash can, confident that the can made it into the trash with one shot. The plate and fork were put in his sink and he quickly rinsed them under hot water with ease. His mind, despite being still preoccupied with erasing the fact that he had just lost one of his best friends and her daughter, was still reeling in every sense of the word to the point that he wanted to curl himself up into a ball. His eyes however followed the chest in the corner, the item full of wonder practically wanted him to take his mind off the terrible thoughts rolling in his mind like thunder. Something about this didn't sit right with him, the fact that it was practically begging him to distract himself with the wonders of books and the way it had appeared in Bobby's mind as the first of many distractions.

The mechanic felt himself walk towards the white chest with an undeniable attraction towards the thought of distracting himself, but he had to go to sleep and work tomorrow, but...maybe he would just sort through the box. That wouldn't keep him up too late and it would satisfy his curiosity so that he could sleep, and it would also make it easier to merge with his already large collection of books. Bobby got on his haunches and pulled open the chest lid, peering into the piles of books and papers for a place to start. The mechanic reached for the books on top and instantly made four piles mentally that he could sort them in based on what he had seen earlier: Norse Mythology, Ideology, foreign Languages, and Papers. Bobby looked at each book face with surprise at how ancient they were, and when he stumbled upon one with the date in it, his eyes widened almost comically as he read the date, it was the year 1803.

Then, with more interest now, Bobby put the books in piles and realized he had added two new piles in his mental sorting system. A Monstrumology (he had made it up in his head and it was basically the science of monsters) and Occult readings, and soon Bobby realized that some of the books weren't just faded because they were old but rather because they were read so often in their time. The corners of the pages were ripped and slightly torn at the edges as though the person had been in a rush, or the corners had just dog tagged the damn things too many times. The brunette stacked some books together and moved them to the front of his own large book case, because he could always properly put them up later. 'After I read them,' Bobby thought with a bit of eagerness, cursing himself as he glanced at the clock. It was now well into the night and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep yet.

The mechanic was about to turn in for the night, but he paused as he saw the papers he had put in the Paper pile on the floor. There wasn't that many of them, but it wasn't something you can just leave around because the smallest step on them could make them tear. Bobby picked them up into his hands and tried to shuffle them into a straight stack. The mechanic looked for a place to put them, even just for the night so he could deal with them in the morning, but he couldn't find one. He looked down at the amassment of papers he held in his arms, they were varying in shapes and sizes, some older, some newer, but all of them were still about the same age. The writing on some notebook pages were in ink, written with a quill and a swift hand others written in pen ink, but it truly told Bobby just how old they were, most were probably older than the civil war.

There were also symbols and Latin writings out the wazoo and that's what attracted Bobby to one particular paper in general. It was a large one, almost like a poster, but the paper was more like parchment paper, scraggly to touch. There was a large black symbol on it similar to a star in a circle, but more intricate and curvy. It was a symbol Bobby recognized, but it was still unfamiliar to him so he read the title of the paper. Yes, Bobby could read Latin, a bit broken but he could speak it better. The title was easy to translate especially with the words Bobby looked up in his college readings.

Translated from Latin the title was, "Demonic Summoning", well that was if Bobby's Latin was correct, but he was a bit rusty. He went on to read the rest of the passage on the side of the circle star figure in the center, it said, "_ will summon demon, speak text of old to summon it. They are required to trade wish for life." To Bobby it was broken Latin mixed with the fact that he didn't know one of the words in the beginning that made him a little angry at himself and made him think back to his tomfoolery in college, he should have listened more.

It was interesting, even if he didn't know what the ingredient was to summon a demon, he still loved to learn about it. Occult things were just mystique and intriguing, even if he didn't get involved in them, they were just stereotypically defying and Bobby had always felt a strange pull to the paranormal forces of the world. Did he believe in ghosts? Yeah, how could he not when he saw his own mother's ghost when he was 13 for a whole year, so to not believe would almost be like denying his own mother, but he might have been hallucinating from loss. The thought that he was hallucinating at that time frame of his life just didn't leave a good taste in his mouth, plus he liked to believe he really did see his mother smiling at him whenever he got a good grade.

Bobby's mindless thoughts caused him to pick at the skin around his fingers, with a strange urge to bite his nails as well. This wasn't an unusual thing for Bobby to do, it was a bad habit he had yet to get rid of. Thinking about the past or anything really made him habitually pick at the skin, as though his body wanted to be distracted as much as his mind was. It was strange because sometimes he never knew he was doing half the time, but it never really bothered him since his hands were so calloused. Heck! Half the time he didn't know he was bleeding from where he had picked because his skin was so dense and thick from working with wrenches and rust. Like now, he hadn't noticed at all how his own finger was welling up with blood as he sat in front of the incantation circle, or how his blood had actually spilled on it as he spoke the Latin incantation out loud to test the words on his tongue.

"Invocaverit te conjuro te velle meo sanguine hoc contractu.*"

* I summon thee with my blood and call upon thee for a wish, this is the contract.

Aryes: Hoped it was okay, I'd love to know whether you like this small series start! :) I have a plan for Crowley x Bobby~! Hope you guys follow the story and comment~! :) Thank you~