Summary: Post season 8, pre-season 9. While Crowley is dealing with newfound emotions, he strikes up an idea for the two Winchesters. And…. they don't like it in the least.

Rating: PG-13 (T)

Genre: Sci-fi, horror

Ships: None as of yet (shocking, I know)

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Prologue:

It had been only a couple of weeks—-

Locked up in the bunker like this. Locked up in this room.

But he didn't know that.

In fact, he didn't know much about this place at all, besides his own restraints, the tools off to the side on the table on his right, and the Devil's Trap sitting right beneath himself.

His restraints.

Something that he could have had avoided if he weren't so— What was the word, arrogant?

Yes, as hard it was to admit.

No, he didn't expect their hidden attack.

Not at all.

Then again, he should have— he had survived by being careful through all these years with dealing with the two notorious hunter brothers. They had almost taken EVERYTHING from him, only in a matter of a few hours. He felt the ultimate loss.

He wanted revenge—-

But ah, could he even proceed with doing it at this point?

In some sort of way, he had grown on the Winchesters even by a bit over the years– even going as far to have exchanged phone numbers with Dean, occasionally calling him up for business related matters.

But ah, the Winchesters' arrogance towards him; their disdain and utter contempt towards him– the things they had messed up for him. Oh, how he wanted to rip them apart—-

Ah, perhaps go a little easy on them though.

… Maybe a quick kill would be for the best. For both of them. Equally.

…..Softness? Really? It was a surprise.

Goddamn it, get a grip on yourself…. A growl exited from his mouth, as the demon silently told himself within the dark confines of his tortured mind. He shifted slightly in his chair, even if it was a bit hard to do so.

He had been half-cured, or rather, nearly cured, afterall. He was experiencing emotions– human emotions— just as he had all those years ago when he was only a mere human.

At first– he had resisted the injections done by Sam in the church, but then he soon grew to want them. The King of Hell wanted to feel all he could possibly to explain what was going on inside his mind, to make connecting the dots easier. To gain some sort of power, again.

The guilt— that wasn't desirable one tiny bit; that could be done away entirely. It was eating, gnawing, chewing at him ever since a couple of weeks ago.

It was overwhelming— He had done so much during his rise up through the demonic ranks. So, so much. Betrayal, killing, oh god— he even TORTURED his own kind! TORTURE! He made his own kind suffer at his own damned hands.

The King of Hell lifted his hands, slightly examining them. Thoroughly. They shook slightly— He had so much blood on them. His son's, multiple humans', demons', angels'… Hell, he even hurt the Winchesters! They worked so hard day to day, fighting against numerous creatures and—

He immediately scowled at that thought.

They weren't truly special, or as he so eloquently put, 'big bloody heroes' out of heavy disdain. …. I had hurt them so much, hadn't I?

No, don't think that.

I was only defending myself— wasn't I? Self doubt, that was new too. Wonderful.

I slaughtered innoc—

Another scowl. It was necessary though to prove a point to the brothers. But… How many times had he tried to justify his kills?

The door slammed open loudly, announcing someone's presence, drastically interrupting the demon's thoughts. Ugh, he couldn't be more thankful for that.

The new occupant stepped forward and spoke.

''Crowley.''

A/N: Hehehe. This was a weird idea that had popped into my mind ages ago. And the writing's a bit dated, as I had started on this concept forever ago... So what awaits Crowley and the Winchesters? More details will be revealed next chapter! :P Please Read and review!