Hell is the place dreams go to die. Not only the good dreams, but all dreams. People don't sleep in hell. They can't. The endless screaming and moaning of thousands of souls makes even concentrating nearly impossible in hell. Which is why binding a demon to it takes so damn long, and why securing a Queen from the land of the living is virtually impossible.

"Check and Mate, Dean," Crowley smirked before taking hold of Eva and snapping his fingers. The two were instantly in an old cemetery, standing in front of the doors of a mausoleum, surrounded by demons, being greeted by a tall, thin, man as pale as alabaster. He looked at Crowley wearily.

"I have served my purpose, you will release me now," the thin man requested. His voice calm, and soothing to the ear, caused Eva to stare up at him.

"Are you Death?"

"Of course he's Death, look at him for Christ's sake," Crowley snapped. She rolled her eyes. Death gave Crowley an exasperated look, then turned his attention to the blonde woman.

"I am…and you are Eva Singer, correct?"

"In the bruised up flesh," she grimaced.

"Perhaps his Majesty should heal you before taking you to the pit," he remarked. Crowley shook his head.

"Absolutely not," Crowley shot a look at Death.

"And why is that?" He asked curiously.

"I'm scrappy," Eva coughed and held her chest.

"She won't survive the pit if she's not in better…condition. And I'd be happy to reap her to the correct location for you."

"I really hate you sometimes," Crowley looked up at Death, then healed Eva's broken body, making her woozy.

"God that sucks," she rubbed her neck. Crowley stood in front of her, shackling her wrists to heavy chains before leading her to the door of the mausoleum.

"After you, my Queen," the short king of hell smirked, guiding her inside. This was the first time she was silent. Her blue green eyes focused on her hands in an attempt to prevent herself from showing any kind of emotion. She gritted her teeth and clenched her jaw as he forced her inside and to the depths of his kingdom, past screaming souls being tormented until the day they became demons themselves.

"Great, an eternity with the Goblin King and he's not even half as cool…or as tall as David Bowie," she muttered.

"What did you just call me?" he questioned her. The demon guiding her along gave her a shove.

"The Goblin King."

"I am not the bloody Goblin King! Do you see any goblins here?!"

"I'm looking at one," she remarked, shooting him a look then focusing her eyes on the shackles as they walked. The vein in Crowley's forehead pulsed. She irritated him to no end, but he knew that by keeping her by his side at all time the Winchesters were more likely to avoid killing him.

Death followed slowly behind the group in his own shackles, clearly angry at the King of Hell's deception. He didn't enjoy being bound, or lied to, especially by the likes of a lowly parasite like Crowley. When they reached their destination, Eva looked around miserably. The door shut and locked behind the two prisoners while Crowley left to take care of some business. She was still covered in her own dried blood, she was dirty, and every fibre of her being ached to be topside and hunting with Sam and Dean instead of this place. She bit her lip and looked over at Death. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," he responded quietly with a nod.

"When you're um…free…do you…I mean…could you…or are you able give someone a message?"

"Who?"

"Dean…" she chewed her lip nearly raw and fiddled with the chains holding her arms. He studied her for a moment.

"I can. What is the message?"

"Can you just tell him I'm okay and that I'm alive?"

"Is that all?"

"Yeah…for the message…"

"Is there something else you wanted to ask me?"

"…Is there a way to bind Crowley to hell and get out of here?" her voice lowered to a whisper.

"There is."

"…Can you do it?"

"Perhaps…but it will take time," he gave her a small smile.

"I don't get why people are so scared of you," Eva stated.

"Because, my dear, people are afraid of dying."

"Some people," she corrected him quietly as Crowley re-entered the room. He walked casually over to death.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he flashed his usual smirk and freed Death from his bonds. The tall man turned to Eva with a nod before disappearing into thin air. "What was that nod for?"

"Nothing." Eva fidgeted as Crowley circled her.

"You'll do nicely," he nodded, licking his lips. Eva cringed at the look of him eyeing her like a piece of meat.

"Can I at least get cleaned up?" she asked, her tone miserable.

"What were the two of you talking about while I was in the other room?" he asked curiously.

"I asked if he could tell Dean I was okay," she replied simply. "Can I at least get cleaned up?"

"Oh. Right," Crowley's gaze lingered at her torn clothes. "Your bathroom is through that door, and clothes will be delivered."

"…Super," she replied flatly and held out her wrists. "Can't shower in shackles," Eva looked unimpressed as Crowley's demon guard walked over to free her wrists. She gave the two a nod and a fake smile then went to clean up, peeling her ruined clothes from her body and climbing into the shower, allowing the steaming water to wash her clean. When she exited she wrapped herself in a towel and looked around. There was an outfit hanging on the back of the door, reminiscent of the "Slave Leia" bikini outfit. She picked it up, but before she could let out a noise of disgust, a violent sob erupted from deep in her chest. She thought of Sam and Dean and sank to the floor in despair, throwing the barely there outfit across the room. After a few sobs, and several deep breaths she stood up. She needed to tie Crowley to hell, and she needed to do it fast.

Eva rushed across the room to where she had thrown the outfit, and put it on, then searched for the shackles from earlier that held her wrists and found them hanging off the back of a chair. She had to move quickly if this was going to work, quickly running to the pile of soiled clothes in the bathroom and retrieving her small canvas purse. She opened it and pulled out a nail file then went to work on carving devils traps on the cold metal. Her hands shook slightly from the lack of sustenance, but continued to work, finishing her engravings moments before the door opened, and Crowley walked in, a smarmy grin spreading across his face.

"I see you found your gift," he observed. Eva stood up straight, putting on a brave face. She held the shackles in her hands. "What have you got those for?"

"I thought we could play a game," she replied, attempting to seduce him without vomiting.

"Oh really?" His eyebrows wagged at her. She rubbed her face with her forearm to hide her disgust.

"Really. C'mere and we can play a little game."

"I thought you said I was the Goblin King."

"Well…I had time to think and calm down in the shower…don't you want to play with me, Crowley?" she asked, giving him her best wide-eyed innocent face.

"I thought you'd never ask, darling," he replied. His voice hoarse as he stepped closer to her, inhaling the scent of her at the base of her neck. She bit her lip and gently slipped the shackle over his wrist then wrapped the chain around the post of the bed in the corner and shackled his other wrist, "I think I like this game," he whispered.

"Wait right here," she cooed then grabbed her small purse off the floor, slipping out the door, making a break for the hall leading back to the mausoleum. After a few moments she heard Crowley let out a frustrated yell. He was stuck and she could sense freedom was almost hers. The screams and cries of the lost and tormented souls were deafening as she reached the mausoleum door. "I'm coming Dean, I'm coming," Eva panted and fiddled with the lock before it finally clicked open. She fell to the floor, bloodying her knees, and kicking the door shut behind her. "Sweet baby Jesus I did it," she let out a laugh to herself, then grabbed a sharp rock off the floor and cut her hand open. She used the blood from the gash to draw a devil's trap at the entrance, and then ripped off a piece of fabric to cover the wound.

Eva shoved the heavy door open and fell to her knees again, sunshine warming her face and making her squint. It was like it had been years since she had seen the sun. She looked around the old cemetery, got up slowly and made her way barefoot to the road, walking for hours on the hot pavement before seeing a Gas 'n' Sip a mile or so down the highway. She couldn't tell where exactly in the country she was, but the promise of a bottle of water and a phone call provided her with enough motivation to limp toward the derelict looking building. She walked inside, her lungs burning from the heat and lack of water. The man behind the counter stared at her for a few minutes as she walked to the back of the store, grabbed the biggest bottle of water she could find, and guzzled the whole thing.

"Miss? Are you okay?" The employee asked.

"I need your phone."

"Okay um, no problem…were you at a convention or something?" he reached across the counter to hand her the phone.

"Something like that," she shook her head, her hands shaking as she dialled Dean's number. She closed her eyes at the relief at hearing it ring.

"Hello?" Dean asked on the other line. It was music to her ears. She could barely contain her joy at hearing his voice.

"Hey there, sailor," she croaked.

"…Eva?"

"In the flesh," she replied. "Told you I'd get out soon."

"Where are you?!" He yelled. She looked around the convenience store for an address or landmark.

"Where are we?" she asked the clerk.

"Shreveport, Louisiana just off the I20."

"I'm coming to get you right now. Do not move from that spot do you hear me?"

"Dean jeeze I've been gone for like a day."

"What?" he asked.

"I said I've only been gone for like a day."

"Eva you've been gone for 8 months."

"….Shit. Hold on a sec, Dean," she pressed the phone against her chest and turned her attention to the confused convenience store clerk. "Is there a motel or something near by?"

"I…yeah down the freeway a couple miles."

"Super. Thanks," she held the phone back to her ear, "Dean I'm going to be at the motel down the freeway from this Gas 'n' Sip…and bring me some clothes."

"What?"

"Just…shut up and do it."

"Okay," Dean replied and hung up. She handed the phone back to the clerk and looked around the convenience store for something to eat as another patron came in the door. He gave her the onceover then sauntered over and grinned.

"Hey little lady."

"What?"

"Did it hurt?"

"Oh god here it comes," she muttered then looked up at the man with doe eyes and an innocent smile. "Did what hurt?"

"When you fell from heaven," he grinned. She held back the groan and eye roll.

"No, but I did scrape my knees when I crawled out of hell," she shook her head and piled her arms with food and drinks, then walked to the counter. "All this stuff is on that guy."

Eva walked barefoot down the freeway to the motel, and pulled a credit card from the purse she managed to take with her from hell. She checked in then quickly made her way to the room and salted every door and window before settling down on the bed. "How the hell was I gone for eight months?" She whispered to herself as she ate. It was no wonder she was so hungry, if it had really been eight months, she couldn't remember the last time she ate at all. Or if remembering being in hell for just a day was a façade for something much worse. She lay back on the bed fighting sleep until she couldn't any longer. Sam and Dean would be there soon, and things would get sorted out then.