Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
Set just after the Season 7 finale, help comes from an unexpected source, hidden in plain sight.
I got the idea for this from Amberdreams wondering on her LiveJournal if a certain person was really what he was claiming to be. Happy Birthday Amber!
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Much Ado About Nothing
"I have deceived even your very eyes: what your wisdoms could not discover, these shallow fools have brought to light" – Borachio, 'Much Ado About Nothing', Shakespeare
Soon after arriving in Purgatory, a claustrophobic panic attack caused Cas to abandon Dean. After several failed attempts to fly off in all directions, Cas soon discovered that he was trapped like a fly in amber, the reality of the Hell-like dimension hardening around him and eroding what little power he had left.
He darted back to Dean, mumbling profuse apologies and shamefaced at his behavior. Dean had stoically overlooked his friend's terror, just grateful to have an ally once more against the seemingly unending stream of misshapen monsters that attacked on sight.
After what seemed like hours of battle, they'd dragged themselves, and each other, through thick mud and brambles to a high, hilltop position with a good view of the surrounding area.
Having collapsed face down in the mud in exhaustion, Dean could barely manage to look up at the sound of someone politely clearing their throat.
"So, you two boys are still playing with each other in the dirt, I see."
"Crowley," growled Dean.
The demon gave him a weak smile, casting a concerned, proprietary gaze over Castiel, before adding, "Deano, you'd have kicked my ass if I'd let your brother end up like this."
Crowley reached down and gently pulled a grateful Cas to his feet, "Remind me, why do we keep listening to this mud-monkey? It never ends well for us, does it manito?"
With a scowl of distaste, Crowley pulled a handkerchief from his pocket with a theatrical flourish and used it to wipe his hands clean. He pointedly ignored Dean's attempts to stand, instead busying himself with unwrapping a gold-colored candy and popping it in his mouth.
Dean stood shakily, with help from Cas, and stared at Crowley in anger and confusion. He opened his mouth, but he was just too tired to speak.
"Oh, it's all too Shakespeare for you, isn't it bucko? Humans! Just a simple mask and none of you can tell who anyone really is anymore, can you?" Crowley sighed. He flicked an imaginary piece of dirt from one cuff in Dean's direction.
"Still, a good comedian knows when the joke's over, I suppose. Certainly this all ceased to be funny a long time ago."
Dean's eyes widened in shock as he tried to make sense of the sight of the huge, twin shadows that rose up behind Crowley. His heart in his mouth, Dean looked to Castiel for support only to see his friend's posture slump in obvious relief.
"Please, take us home," Castiel asked in a small voice that sounded tired and resigned, but held not the slightest trace of fear.
Crowley smiled indulgently as he touched two fingers of each hand to Dean and Castiel's forehead, and in the blink of an eye they were gone.
(;,;)