The world was spinning. His head ached, but compared the normal piercing pain it was a dull throb. He remembered the veil. He remembered going with his mother. He tried hard to ignore the pain in his heart. Of course. The Winchesters must have done it. They must've managed to re-open the gates of Heaven. He must've moved on.
He knew of Heaven. What was his Heaven like? He opened his eyes, waiting for them to refocus. It took a minute for the blurriness to clear up. This was his Heaven?
He was lying on a rich red soft sofa, accented with a burgundy mahogany frame. It was soft, maybe softer than any couch he had ever laid down on, but it was hardly Heaven. Frankly it looked like he was sitting in an office.
The sofa was sitting against the east wall, a large bookcase towering beside it. A grand, intricately carved desk was the center of the room. It was clearly made from the same wood as the sofa. There was a set of armchair facing the desk, again, the same woodwork as the sofa.
His breath hitched in his throat. That wasn't his imagination. He could've sworn there was someone sitting at the chair at the desk. The back of the chair was turned towards him. An angel? He heard the shuffling of paper. There was someone there.
"Excuse me…?" he was ashamed to say that there was a squeak in his voice. Why did his throat feel so dry?
The chair turned to face him slowly, revealing a familiar face. An expensive suit, a designer tie, and that unforgettable smirk. Well-reigned control and an unmatched confidence.
Kevin's face twisted with rage as he spat, "Crowley!"
"None other, darling. Nice to see that you've woken up. I'll admit you made a rather delicious sleeping beauty," he calmly set the papers he had been looking through on his desk.
"I'm…? I'm in hell? How is that possible?" his voice darkened, "What did you do?"
"Oh, calm down. I pulled some strings. King of Hell after all. I got you your life back. Isn't that sweet of me?"
"I don't care what you want me to do. I won't. I'd rather be dead than become your underling," he voice was still trembling with anger. He knew that the last thing you wanted to do in front of Crowley was to let him push your buttons. He was beyond caring.
"Don't get your panties in a twist. I didn't bring you back for that. Although that does sounds like fun," he swayed a bit in his chair, clearly contemplating.
"Then why did you bring me back?" he gasped, "Let me guess. You're going to use me as a bargaining chip against Sam and Dean. "
"Oh! Clever. Still not right though. Come on, Kevin. You can do better than that," the chuckle in the demon king's voice made his blood boil.
"You want me to translate another tablet? We've been through this. It's not going to happen. I'll find a way away from you," he held his tone in check, despite the fact that he was terrified. He remembered the ways Crowley had to make you comply.
He didn't like the way that Crowley was enjoying this guessing game. He shook his head, trying to hide a grin that was breaking out across his face. "Fine! I'm not getting it. Stop playing games and tell me why you brought me here!" deep down he knew that yelling at the demon would accomplish nothing, but his fuse was shot.
"'Stop playing games'?" He repeated softly, "Stop playing games? Don't you understand Kevin? That's exactly why I brought you here. I loved the little games we played with each other."
He didn't even try to stop his face from contorting with confusion. He couldn't be serious. He always had a motive. A brilliant motive. This was just Crowley screwing with his mind, yet again.
His voice went soft and his tone was merely exasperated at this point, "What is it, really?"
Crowley gave a small chuckle, "I'm quite serious. The games of cat and mouse we used to play. I loved matching wits with you. You've got a mind made for chess. I brought you here to be my playmate."
Kevin swallowed hard and gave a small shudder. He didn't like the way that the demon had phrased that, "'Playmate'?"
"Oh? That's the part you picked up on? I lavished you in compliments, but I see straight where your mind went. That's fine by me. I'd like for you to dwell there," it was hard to miss the flirtatious tone to his voice.
Kevin was sitting up straight and he was sure all the color had drained from his face. His eyes bolted between the door and the King of Hell sitting comfortably at his desk. He knew it was a bad idea, but panicking wasn't good for anyone's thought process. He pulled himself up from the comfortable couch and made a dash for the door. He grasped the golden handle firmly in his hand, but his voice stopped him dead in his tracks.
"By all means. You must remember. The genuine article lies beyond that door. If you want to take a stroll around, I won't object. Do you think you can handle yourself out there? Do you think you're ready to take a glance at hell in its full glory?" Crowley smirked when he noticed that Kevin removed his hand. He still stood there, staring at the door. But they both knew. They both knew that he wasn't going anywhere. They both knew that Crowley had won.
A/N: This is officially my 'Go Home You're Drunk' fanfic. And I'm sorry. But I'm also not sorry. I don't know how I feel about this. If you live reviews I will love you forever. Kevin is a bit short fused at this point, but he reverts to his cute snarky self after he calms down.