Who You Gonna Call? Winchesters!
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"Hello boys! Lovely to bump into you again. I was beginning to miss your artfully tousled heads," the King of Hell said with his familiar British accent.
Dean took a step back in surprise as Crowley materialized in his personal space, colliding with his little brother who had been right behind him.
"Well that's my day ruined," Dean griped, as Sam pulled back off him and came to stand at his brother's side, ready to defend himself and his sibling from the demon king.
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"Moose, your antlers grown in yet? No? And Squirrel; find your cache of tasty nuts?" Crowley added with a smirk.
"So funny, " Dean jeered sarcastically. "You just brightened the moment. What the hell do you want Crowley? Gonna take another go at gutting us, here on the Main Street of Sioux Falls!"
"Boys, boys, your lack of faith in me hurts my sentimental heart. We've known each other for so long now. We're old friends!" Crowley's face took on a pained expression.
"Old friends; Hell no! " Dean huffed. "You're no friend of ours, Crowley; so I'll ask you again before I gank your sorry ass. What do you want?"
"That's one of the things I love about you Dean; threatening to take me out while all I have to do is snap my fingers and the nearest reaper will be all over your soul in a second, like a bee on honey; or worse I could kill your brother which would sadden me dearly as I have a soft spot for big cuddly animals like him!"
"You lay a finger on Sammy and..."
"You just can't stop, can you Dean, " Crowley broke in, almost fondly. "You just keep on tilting at windmills."
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He waved a hand and both brothers found themselves unable to move a muscle.
"I could blast you both to Hell anytime I want, and if I don't knuckle-heads, it's because I don't WANT TO!" he finished, his voice rising to a shout with his last words.
"Now," he sighed theatrically, his voice going back to its usual even timbre. "If you promise to shut up and hear me out, I'll free you, otherwise I'll leave you like a couple of statues until I've finished talking. It's your choice, Dean!"
Crowley freed Dean's head and tilted his own as Dean nodded his assent on hearing Crowley out.
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"Wonderful! I'm glad we've finally come to an understanding," Crowley said as the brothers came back into control of their own bodies and exchanged glances, Dean silently asking Sam if he was OK with hearing Crowley out.
Sam raised his eyebrows "Just as well listening to what he has to say; better than being bundled off to hell, " Sam telegraphed back silently. Dean pursed his lips considering, as he held Sam's gaze.
"I'm waiting here," Crowley complained loudly " My time is precious. Keep all the brotherly eye-talking for later, morons!"
Dean snorted.
"Okay, Talk Crowley," Sam bitched. "And be quick about it. We've got better things to do than waste time with you."
"Aw, Moosie, and here I thought you were the sweetie of the family. Oh, well then; down to business. Let's go and get comfy in that diner over there, shall we? Coffees are on me!" Crowley threw back, as he nonchalantly crossed the road, hands in the pockets of his black coat, to the diner, followed by the confused brothers.
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Sam pondered the sheer incredulity of the King of Hell sitting in a diner amidst unsuspecting humans, while Dean recalled the time he shared a pizza with Death in a similar occasion.
"Okay, just what can we do for you that you can't do for yourself," Dean asked annoyed.
"Yeah, as you so capably illustrated a few minutes ago, you're far more powerful than us," Sam chimed in.
"Patience, boys, patience!
Now then, I'm ashamed to say that there has been a little break-out from Hell; a very old, very powerful demon, Azag, who, shall we say tried to lead a rebellion against Hell's rightful ruler. That's me, " Crowley emphasized pointing a finger at his chest, while the brothers looked on, giving a synchronized snort at Crowley's words.
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"Listen, dumb - dumbs. I take my work seriously, not like that douche-bag Lucifer who was stir-crazy! I run a tight ship," he leaned forward. "So you understand that no-one can be allowed to challenge me, or worse escape my grasp.
Here's the deal, You find him, bring him back or kill him with that dinky little knife of yours. Whichever you prefer, just as long as I know he's been taken care of."
" Excuse me," Dean observed. " But why not send out your own grunts to get him. Why do you need us?"
"Hello, Demon hunters, " Crowley said, pointing at Sam and Dean. "With an enviable success rate. As I've mentioned before, demons are stupid, they don't get strategy or planning; not like you two. So! Are you on-board, boys?"
"What's in it for us?" Sam asked, jutting out his chin in challenge.
"Well, Moosie, for a start, saving a crop of these pathetic humans that you're both so fond of. This demon just loves blood and gore. Picture Alastair, only a thousand times more pissed," Crowley smirked, as he saw Dean's face turning a shade paler at the sound of the hated name.
"If he manages to take me out, he'll cover the Earth with road-kill, and you'll look back on me as being as gentle as a kitten. Okay, then," he sighed as he saw the less than enthusiastic expressions on the Winchesters' faces. "I'll throw in a non-belligerence pact, no demons on Earth for a month. We got a deal?" Crowley smiled, cocking his head.
"A year," Dean raised.
"Deano, I'd have a revolution on my hands! Six months!"
"Seven, " Sam butted in. "And we'll do it."
"You boys drive a hard bargain " Crowley accorded dead-pan. "But it's a deal. Seven months without demons. Well... it's been lovely, but duty calls. When you find my man, give me a call. See you boys."
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The brothers huffed as Crowley disappeared from the diner, and Sam gave a quick look round to see if anyone had noticed, but the other patrons seemed unaware of anything odd.
"What do you think, Dean? "Sam asked his brother.
"He seemed above board," Dean answered shrugging. "But with Crowley who knows, however if there is such a powerful demon on the loose, we gotta gank him " Dean continued, slurping the hot coffee and delving into the enticing piece of pie he had ignored while listening to Crowley.
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Crowley stood unseen across the road, staring at the brothers.
What he had told them was the truth. He did have a dangerous demon on his ass and he knew that if anyone could get the job done, it was the Winchesters, he grudgingly admitted.
What he had said earlier was also true. He could have killed the brothers a thousand times over but he hadn't; he was a demon, it was true but even demons could have heroes and if any could be called that, it was those two boys sitting in the diner; although he would never in a million years admit to such a thing.
They had triumphed over odds so enormous that it was incredible, angels, Apocalypses, demons, destiny, Lucifer, even God himself.
What magnificent demons, they would make Crowley mused. With them at my side, we could do great things together.
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Although he shook his head at the improbability of such an occurrence, stranger things had happened; and with those boys nothing could be excluded!
He gave then one last almost fond glance. Moosie and Squirrel; we'll cross swords again, he smirked before disappearing.
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