So, this is my first cross-over fanfiction. I am a huge fan of the Supernatural series and, even if I didn't like at first Crimson Peak, I really like the story afterwards…

I hope you'll like my story ^_^

Chapter 1

Something was wrong. Something was definitively wrong. That pact with Crowley was supposed to heal him and yes, he was standing on his two feet. But he was also standing in a unknown shower room. A sweet, old, very old tune was being played on a phonograph. Bobby studied himself in the mirror, noticing he was in robes. He still had the same face, his beard was a little longer and God does he looked tired and thoughtful. What the hell was happening ? An attendant arrived with clean towels, making all ready for Bobby's apparently shave.

- The water's hot, just the way you like it, sir, he said as he turned on one of the showers. Would you like the same as usual ? Ham and eggs ? A bit of coffee maybe ?

- Yeah. Do that, lad, Bobby replied trying to not look out of place. And the Times too !

- Right away, the attendant said as he walked away.

This is weird. All seemed out of times. He needed to know where and when the bloody hell he was ! Thinking about it, he started to see that making a pact with Crowley was really, like really really a bad idea. Maybe the attendant could help him figured out what was happening.

Checking if he was alone on this room, he began to mumble unintelligible thing. He had to come back. Sam and Dean needed him ! The Apocalypse was happening !

- CASTIEL, YOU IDJIT ! Bobby screamed. I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME ! BRING ME BACK NOW ! THE BOYS NEED ME, SO YOU BETTER BRING YOUR ANGEL ASS RIGHT NOW AND GET ME TO THEM !

He waited several minutes but nothing came. He repeated and repeated the "prayer" to this angel Dean considered like his fairy god-mother. But nothing came. Bobby had to face the truth. Crowley has been playing him all along and there's nothing he could do about it. Well, perhaps he could if he had the right book, herbs, witch as so on. He needed to adapt.

The water running down the showers was so hot everything was foggy. In wishpering, he took the razor blade. This beard was way too long for him anyways. But how the hell could he managed to shave if he couldn't see himself in that damn mirror ! Mist clouded his vision as he began to prepare. Then a shadow flitted behind him, startling hom and he turned to see if someone was there. But, there was no one. He could swore that someone, or something was there. The air was still hot so he knew it was no ghost.

- Who's there ? Castiel ? Crowley ?

The shadow appeared briefly in his vision but was gone just as fast as it was coming. His hunter's instinct told him to be ready for whatever was coming. He quiclky hid the razor blade in his loose sleeve. He had the distinct feeling he was not alone.

Hot water was spilling over the bassin. With all his thought, he had forgotten to turn it off and he was now wading in a puddle of hot water. The soap brick fell. With a grunt, he bent to pick it up. The shadow was there again but he pretend to ignore it. Then, someone grabbed him by the cuff of his robe and the back of his head. Alas, this someone didn't know about his hunter's reflexes. Before his opponent could do something, Bobby took the razor blade out of his sleeve and stabbed it. Apparently, this didn't seem to bother his enemy and Bobby's head was slammed down against the basin's corner.

- You, idjit ! You have no idea who you're dealing with, he said between his teeth, turning to face his opponent.

- Well, Sir Cushing, aren't you a little difficult to die, a female voice answered him.

Removing the blade from her left arm, the feminine form came to him but Bobby was too quick. As soon the woman, who apparently wanted his host or whatever he was dead, was on the ground, slipping on a puddle, unable to move. Bobby has no remorse killing supernatural creatures but refused to murder a mere mortal. He knocked her out with one punch, just when the attendant came by, carrying a tray with his breakfast and newspaper.

The scene was apparently too much for the young man, who dropped the tray, the china plate breaking in a million of pieces when it met the floor.

- Don't stay like that ! Bobby said with authority. Call someone !