Castiel heard the agonized prayer for help as he was interrogating Metatron up in heaven. It was barely audible and he couldn't hear what the exact words were over the scribe's sarcastic remarks. Castiel tilted his head in deep focus, trying to pinpoint where exactly the prayer was coming from.

"Incoming phone call, Castiel? And here I was thinking that you didn't have any friends," Metatron said with that mocking smile of his.

Castiel ignored the gibe, concentrating on the source of the prayer. It was from Hell. Crowley. With an icy glare in Metatron's direction, Castiel walked out of the cell, slamming the cage door shut.

"We're not finished."

"I wouldn't have it any other way!" Metatron called out, the self-satisfaction in his voice wasn't missed by Castiel who was too focused on the more important matter at hand. Crowley needed his help and by the sound of it, it was urgent.

Getting into Hell wasn't too hard - even if he couldn't use his wings - thanks to Crowley who had shared a little secret with him during their short partnership. He'd never thought the little tidbit of information would be useful.

Castiel quietly crept into the dark halls of Hell with carefully measured steps, angel blade in hand. There were no demons in sight and it was almost as if Hell was… empty. That was impossible.

Everything about this felt wrong.

Celestial blue eyes flickered left and right on the alert for any hint of a trap. He encountered none. He tensed as he realized he was approaching the throne room, his footsteps echoing slightly with every cautious step. His eyes widened at the sight that greeted him.

In the center of the room was a coffin with the inscription 'MACLEOD.' The lid was open, revealing the dead remains within. Beside it was Crowley, head slumped forward with his hands bound by a metallic looking rope to the back of the chair. The rope had detailed blood markings on it that he didn't recognize. The demon seemed unconscious and a tortured mess, a large pool of blood on the ground below him glistening like liquid rubies.

Crowley's dress shirt open, his chest exposed with multiple gashes, blood dripping from multiple places but Castiel could tell they weren't ordinary wounds. They glowed a little like dying ember, just as demons did when they were killed with an angel blade.

"Crowley!" Castiel whispered harshly as he ran over to where the demon was, his hand gripping Crowley's shoulder as he shook the demon to wake him.

Crowley groaned softly, head leaning against Castiel's chest for support as he began to stir.

"Crowley, what happened?" Castiel inquired quietly, reaching around the demon to undo the rope that bound the demon. He hissed in pain, dropping his angel blade as soon as his hand came in contact with it. The noise seemed to snap Crowley awake. He rapidly blinked and shook his head as if to clear it. He couldn't believe that the angel had shown up.

"Kitten?" Crowley almost seemed relieved. "I didn't think you'd come." He winced in pain, licking blood from his lips.

"I owe you." Those three words meant more than just quid pro quo… whether the demon felt the same was irrelevant. Castiel had recently accepted the fact that he was fond of Crowley.

"Cas, I'm flattered, I really am." Crowley managed a weak smile. "But we can continue the sweet talk after -" The demon erupted in a fit of coughs, followed by blood. He spat to the side, growling in frustration.

Castiel's brow furrowed in worry.

"Don't look at me like that, I'll be fine. But I do need to point out that we're on a bit of a time crunch, feathers. She'll be back soon." The strange rope rattled like chains as Crowley's way of emphasizing to Castiel that freeing him was priority.

Castiel tilted his head to the side. "Who?"

"It's a long story, Cas. I'll explain it to you later." Crowley looked around the room anxiously, keeping a lookout as Castiel walked around to face the back of the chair.

Taking a closer look, the rope had a combination of some enochian markings as well as symbolic additions that he didn't recognize. He realized he had no choice. He extended his hand in front of him, exerting his grace. The rope snapped, falling to the floor.

Crowley rubbed his wrists in grim satisfaction. "Brilliant job so far, Mr. Bond."

There was a faint smile on Castiel's face at the reference as he picked up his angel blade he'd dropped earlier, looking at the demon expectantly. Crowley didn't budge from the chair.

"Are we leaving or not?" he huffed, eyeing the doorway to the room.

"I would, if I could." Crowley grit his teeth, jaw clenched as he grasped his knee tenderly. "Old hag annihilated my knee."

Castiel knelt down in front of the demon, taking assessment of the injury. "But you're a demon. Pain shouldn't be a problem."

Crowley directed his gaze to the coffin nearby. "That's what my bones are for. Some sort of spell that makes sure I feel every tickle, ten fold might I add." The demon looked exhausted at the thought.

Castiel opened his palm toward the injury when Crowley's hand stopped him. "Don't. We're running out of time." He gestured for Castiel to stand up. "Come on, we haven't got all day."

His voice was urgent. It was very out of character for the demon but Castiel didn't waste time pondering. He did as the demon asked, lowering himself a little so that Crowley could sling an arm over his neck to use him as support.

"Easy, easy, darling," Crowley rasped out, his voice distressingly strained. "Handle this precious cargo with care."

Castiel's free hand slipped around the demon's waist for better control.

"Shut up, Crowley," he answered back.

"Never." The demon managed a forced grin, trying to ignore the flaring pain that shot through his leg from the tiniest movements. He pointed a finger at the coffin in front of them. "Can't leave my dead self behind, can we?"

The only reply he got was an exasperated sigh and a snap of fingers.

"There," Castiel stated grumpily, as they began to make their way to the exit. "Happy?"

"Mmmm, as long as they're in a safe place. I'd be even happier if you were this submissive all the time."

"Now is not the time, Crowley."

"There's always time for -"

"Why Fergus, leaving so soon?" A red headed woman walked into view, blocking their only exit. "We've barely just started to get to know one another." Her accompanying grin gave Castiel a chilling tingle down his spine. She placed her hand over her heart. "My one and only son is rejecting me so cruelly. I'm hurt, I truly am."
She sniffled innocently but Castiel's instincts told him this woman was venomous. Even more strange was the fact that Castiel couldn't sense her presence at all. In fact, he hadn't even heard her sneak up on them. She was frighteningly dangerous if she could pull that off.

Castiel stared at the woman for a good while before turning to look at Crowley, realizing what she had said. "Your -"

"Yes," Crowley interrupted, his unwavering focus on the woman in front of them. "But she's a two faced vixen. That's all you need to know."

"Now now, no need for name calling." Rowena took Castiel in as she took a step toward them. "And who is this pretty face?"

"An acquaintance," Crowley answered before the angel had the time to open his mouth, "who is none of your concern."

Rowena took another step toward them as they shuffled backwards, trying to maintain the distance between them.

"Demons don't have friends, only family," Rowena reminded as she got closer, slowly backing them into a corner. Castiel was contemplating his options but there weren't many. He didn't want to fight her unless absolutely necessary, especially with Crowley sidelined.

"Friends are family," Castiel retorted back, trying to buy some time as he wracked his brain for an escape plan. He ignored the surprised stare that was shot in his direction from the demon beside him. "Family doesn't show up out of nowhere like you. They're the ones who've been there for you when you need them."

That stopped Rowena in her tracks, the false bubbly persona disappearing in a flash, replaced by a much more dark and sinister one.

"What did you say your name was?"

Castiel didn't answer, only glowering back. Meanwhile, Crowley was trying to think of something, anything to get them out of here. If he didn't soon, they'd both end up being Rowena's prisoners. She straightened her black dress, a purely harmless gesture but the ominous smile she put on made everything she did seem all the more menacing.

She looked piercingly at the blue-eyed man who stared her down with just as much ferocity. "As long as you hand over my son, you can walk out of here a free man. If you don't..." Rowena looked down at her fingernails, sighing more dramatically than necessary. "I'll have to use force."

"Eat me," Castiel said defiantly. Crowley looked at him with approval. That rebellious fire had always been attractive from the start.

Rowena's gasped in mock surprise. "That's no way to speak to your elders. Where are everyone's manners nowadays?" She raised a hand at them. At that moment, Crowley flicked his wrist toward Rowena's direction, knowing she was on the offensive. Instead, she only blinked back at him, looking disturbingly pleased.

Crowley stared at his hand, red and smeared with his own blood. It was quivering. Undeniably human.

"What did you do?" he asked lowly.

Castiel turned his attention back to the demon beside him, detecting the shaking rage lining Crowley's voice.

Rowena beamed. "It's just a spell. Don't worry, my dear boy. You're still a demon. Just a mortal one, at the moment."

Crowley's eyes snapped up to meet Rowena's. The hatred emanating from the demon was unlike anything Castiel had ever seen.

"Your soul is going to pay for this."

Castiel had never seen Crowley like this. The sass was gone, replaced by one emotion and it was just the reaction Rowena wanted. Anger was clouding the demon's judgment and his mother knew it.

"Crowley."

Castiel was ignored.

"Crowley," he said with more force.

No response.

At this point, he had two choices: either fight Rowena and take the shortcut that he had gotten into Hell from or teleport the both of them out of Hell entirely. Problem was, both options required a payment and his grace was limited. The second option would be more costly and transporting Crowley's bones had spent a bit of his limited grace already. It was time to make a decision.

Rowena sighed, her hand starting to move again. "I don't want to hurt that pretty face of yours but I really do want my son back."

Castiel was faster, his hand making a sweeping gesture toward the coffin beside them. The lid flew at Rowena but it was enough of a distraction. In the split second that it took her to shatter the oncoming slab of rock, her son and the blue eyed man in trenchcoat had disappeared. She waved away the debris of dust with a grin.

What an interesting turn of events.

"What the bloody hell was that for?!" Crowley snarled, rubbing the side of his head.

Castiel had smacked him as soon as he had been carefully lowered down on the edge of the bed. Crowley found himself in the dump they called a bunker that he hoped to never set foot in again, given his previous experiences. This only added on to his foul mood.

The angel only regarded him with pitied silence and he despised it. Castiel ignored his spiteful glare, kneeling in front of Crowley yet again. Castiel's hand lightly skimmed Crowley's injured leg. He grimaced at the spasm of pain the tiny touch caused but it subsided, replaced by a fuzzy warmth.

The pleased smile on the angel's lips was genuine - hand lingering longer than necessary at Crowley's thigh - but disappeared too quickly as he pulled away. Crowley tested his leg, extending it warily. The immobilizing pain was gone.

If Castiel was expecting a word of thanks, he was going to be disappointed. Crowley made a move to stand up but his mouth opened in silent shock when Castiel shoved him backwards onto the bed. Castiel was on top of him in a flash, one hand splayed out on Crowley's bare chest, pushing him into the bed with a bit of weight behind it. The other grasped the bedsheets above his shoulder.

This was unexpected. At first, Crowley had thought the angel was angry at the fact that no gratitude was shown. The amused glitter that lit up Castiel's eyes told him a different story.

"What do you think you're doing?" Crowley asked lowly, his entire body tense with worry. He was in a vulnerable position with a celestial being looming over him who could easily smite him if need be.

"I'm not finished yet," Castiel answered without breaking eye contact. The pain from his leg had been so overwhelming that Crowley had completely forgotten about the deep gashes that decorated his chest.

Castiel's eyes lowered to the space between them, forehead furrowed in concentration as he began to heal each wound.

"What did she want?" the angel asked quietly, watching muscles clench and twitch beneath his fingers.

"I don't know." There was no way Crowley was revealing that type of information to anyone. He shook his head. "But that's the least of my worries. I have to undo whatever she did to my bones first."

The demon looked sullen, distant eyes looking past the angel hovering over him. "I thought I could handle her."

"Not on your own you can't," came the blunt reply. Crowley's vision refocused, breath hitching as he found Castiel nose to nose with him.

"Why do you care?" he managed to snap back. It wasn't any of the angel's business.

"That's what friends do." A warm hand slid back up his stomach, palm settling over where his vessel's heart would be. Castiel was obviously finished healing him... "They care."

"Demons don't have the luxury of friends and I certainly don't want to mingle with the likes of you more than necessary. You're a business transaction, just like everyone else."

The bitter response was only met with a softening of eyes. The increased pounding beneath Castiel's hand betrayed the demon's masquerade.

Hot breath blew over Crowley's lips. "Liar."

It was Castiel's turn to gape in surprise when the demon somehow managed to spin him over so that their positions were now switched, except he took it a step further. He pinned the angel onto the bed firmly, hip to hip, unable to help himself from smirking when he felt a bulge mirroring his own. He ground down on it, just for kicks. Castiel bit his lip, refusing to make a sound.

"You're an odd little creature," Crowley mused. "And the strangest angel I've ever met, extending your friendship to someone like me."

Castiel's thumb brushed his brow in affectionate agreement. "I could say the same for you. You didn't reject my offer."

No, he hadn't. Crowley wanted to deny everything the winged prat said but his mouth refused to come up with a witty retort as it always did. Instead, he crushed his lips into Castiel's, roughly claiming it as his own as the last bits of his false persona crumbled away.

Friends, eh? It was more than what he deserved but everything he wanted.