A/N: I don't own anything.

When Nightmares Aren't Just Female Horses of the Night

Chapter 1 – Feelings

It was like swallowing glass. That moment when the earth shifted under you and reality hit you so hard with the truth, that your heart stopped beating. That precise second when you realize it was all a dream, wishful thinking. And in that moment of clarity your world shatters to pieces all over again, because sometimes reality can be a cold, dark and lonely place. A place you can never escape from, no matter how fast and far you run, how hard you fight or how many times you drown yourself in alcohol. It will always come back, it will always find you, and there's nothing you can ever do to chance it.

Dean Winchester pushed his fingers through his damp hair. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck and his clothes clung to him like a second skin. His heart racing a million miles an hour, beating so hard against his chest that he was sure it was going to break through his ribcage. His breath fell in short puffs over his dry lips and he struggled to swallow, it felt like his mouth and throat was filled with sand. His eyes burned with unshed tears and he wildly rubbed the palms of his hands against his eyelids, anxious to get rid of the suffocating feeling that came with the realization that he will never see her again, hold her again or feel her soft lips pressed against his.

Raven was gone.

She didn't miraculously return from the dead and saved him and Bobby from the demons. She didn't strangely forget him and the four months they spend on the road together or amazingly fell into Cas's arms.

No.

It was just a dream. A nightmare conjured by his twisted mind and heart, that refused to accept the truth, refused to let her go.

Dean stood in front of the mirror, his hands clenched around the curves of the wash basin, staring back at his reflection. The reflection of a man he didn't recognize anymore. Dark circles lined his dull bloodshot eyes, his lips set in a thin line and the corners twisted downward. The tell tale signs of too many sleepless nights and constant drinking. The signs of a man overcome with guilt, living on the edge, taunting fate to give him her best shot, because frankly he just didn't give a damn anymore.

What was there left to hold on to, to fight for? A brother who betrayed him and started the apocalypse? A rebel angel that thought by finding God they would all be saved from this impending doom? An old man that was stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, because he would rather kill himself than harm the boy he saw as his own son?

He closed his eyes and her face appeared behind his eyelids. She was there in front of him, staring down with so much anger in her eyes that he thought they would burst into flames any second. Exactly the same way as that day at Bobby's when her small fist split his lip. But now that eyes were fuming because he wanted to give up, lay down the sword and surrender. Accusing him of giving up on all they have fought for, what they believed in, what she died for.

He opened his eyes and a single tear ran down his cheek.

"Ray," he whispered, his breath fogging the mirror as her name tumbled over his lips.

"How am I supposed to go on without you?"

….

If there was one thing Crowley learned early in his existence as a demon, it was that you had to use the opportunities given to you, because they were essential to guarantee your survival in a cut-throat environment like hell.

Only the most intelligent, ambitious and devious ones made it to the top. Hell was not for the faint of heart. If you wanted to survive you had to outsmart and out play the best. You had to be willing to sacrifice all, go against the rules, turn enemies into allies and defy your own creator the devil himself.

That's where intelligence came in, because although Lucifer created them he was not one of them. Lucifer was an angel, technically a fallen angel. Torturing and corrupting human souls until they turned into demons was just another way to defy his Father and to show how much he despised his Father's favorite creations.

At this moment every demon in hell was ecstatic, because daddy was on his way home to sit on his throne, set them all free and lead them to victory. The poor gullible bastards. They will never taste freedom or victory only the bitterness of their own demise.

And this was where ambition came in, for Crowley was not ready to give up his status and power to follow blindly. No, he was not a follower, he wanted to lead. He wanted to rise to the very top.

He was playing a very dangerous game. One that if it didn't go as planned would result in his own end. But the chess pieces were stacked on the board, anxiously awaiting his next move.

A devious smile formed on his lips as he stared down at the queen.

It was time to make his first move. It was time to beat the devil at his own game.

…

Garber was a small town in the state of Oklahoma with a population of approximately 822 people. It was in other words the perfect place to start over or for Sam Winchester, hide from all the mistakes he made in his life.

Like the proverb said, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. How true that was in his case. Everything he did, everything he sacrificed was intended to save them all, to save the world. But in the end it all back fired, because he trusted and believed a demon over his own brother. He pushed the only family he had away. He was responsible for the death of the woman his brother loved. He was responsible for setting the devil free. There was no excuses, he did it, it was his choice, his brother warned him, the angels warned him, but he still followed his own path. He brought on the apocalypse and in the process lost everything that really mattered.

Sam closed his eyes and his thoughts went back to the conversation between him and Dean that night in the hospital's parking lot.

"I tried, Sammy. I mean, I really tried. But I just can't keep pretending that everything's all right. Because it's not. And it's never going to be. You chose a demon over your own brother, a demon that… that killed Ray and…"

"I would give anything, anything to take it all back. To bring her back. Dean, I'm so sorry, so sorry."

"I know you would. And I know how sorry you are. I do. But, man...you were the one that I depended on the most. Depended on keeping her save when I was not around. You let me down in ways that I can't even… I'm just-I'm having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here. You know?"

"What can I do?"

"Honestly? Nothing. I just don't...I don't think that we can ever be what we were. I just don't think I can trust you."

Dean was right.

How could he expect his brother to trust him if he couldn't even trust himself? That's why he decided to step back to sort himself out, before someone else got hurt or worst, got killed. It was better this way, him and Dean going their separate ways.

Sam let out a long sigh before he opened his eyes and stared down at the table he had been scrubbing clean for the last five minutes.

"Hey, Keith?" Lindsey, the waitress at the bar he was working as a busboy, said behind him.

"Yeah." He answered without turning around to face her, wiping the table with a cloth one last time.

"We still on for dinner in a few?"

Sam plastered a fake smile on his lips before he turned to face her. Lindsey was a really nice girl, but her constant bugging about his personal life was starting to irritate him. He wanted to forget about his past, not relive it every minute.

"Yeah, sure. Let me just take this to the kitchen."

"Okay." Lindsey said and smiled at him before making her way to the table she was busy preparing for their dinner.

Sam let out a sigh as he dropped the cloth in the bucket and made his way to the kitchen, not looking forward to the rest of his evening in the slightest.

…..

Castiel was still invisible to the human eye as he stared at the reflection of Dean in the mirror. Dean's words of a few seconds ago still lingering around them like a silent scream of a man to heartbroken to carry on.

Castiel dropped his eyes to the floor as a feeling of guilt rushed through him for spying on his friend. That guilt only grew as the image of Dean begging him to bring back Ravenna ran through his mind. Another emotion followed quickly in guilt's path – shame. He felt ashamed that he doubted Dean's true intentions toward Ravenna for so long. Ashamed that his jealousy lead him on the wrong path and placed her in harm's way. He was indirectly responsible for her death, the cause of Dean's heartbreak. In the end they were all manipulated, set up to fail and left to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.

It was strange that the moment when she died all the feelings and desire to be with her, to protect her and have her all for himself, disappeared. Like a spell that was casted over him was suddenly lifted. The only explanation he could think of was that somehow Gabriel or Zachariah did something to him to respond to her in such an immense way.

He clenched his fists as rage began to boil in the pit of his stomach. He had to succeed; he had to find his Father no matter the cost. He owed it to Dean, he owed it to her.

With that thought he stepped forward and made himself visible.

"God!" Dean breathed out as he noticed Castiel's face in the reflection of the mirror.

"Hello, Dean."

"Fuck, Cas! Stop doing that!" Dean yelled as he turned to face Castiel and almost bumped into him.

"Cas, we talked about this." Dean said as he waved his hand in front of Castiel's chest. "Personal space?"

"My apologies." Castiel answered as he took a step back, giving Dean room to move out of the bathroom.

"How did you find me? I thought I was flying below angel radar." Dean said as he picked up a half empty bottle of whisky and began unscrewing the cap.

"Bobby told me where you were." Castiel watched as Dean took a long sip from the bottle before he continued. "Where's Sam?"

Dean brought the bottle to his lips again before he answered.

"Me and Sam are taking separate vacations for a while. So?" Dean emptied the bottle before he continued. "You find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back?"

"Should you really be consuming so much alcohol? The damage it causes to your liver alone is…"

"Cas! If Bobby sent you here to preach for me you can just unfold those feathery wings of yours and fly your ass out of here. I'm not in the mood and your damn well the worst candidate for a grieve counselor ever. I'm fine, okay." Dean said as he dropped the empty bottle in the waste bin that was already over flowing with empty beer bottles, a look of guilt settling on his face before he turned back to Castiel.

"Dean, I …"

"Dammit! Just drop it. I don't wanna talk about it. So if you came here to check up on me, please leave." Dean said as he pushed his fingers through his hair.

Castiel stared at his friend for a moment contemplating if it was a good idea to involve Dean in his plan to find God. Dean was not 'okay' as he stated. He was intoxicated and showed signs of sleep deprivation. Dean's grieve was consuming him and there was nothing that he could do, but watch as he turned into the shell of the man he ones was. But he had no one else to turn to, maybe this will give Dean purpose, take his mind of the loss of Ravenna.

"No, I haven't found God. That's why I'm here. I need your help."

….

He still couldn't get use to the face that stared back at him in the reflection of the window he was standing in front of. But if he looked deeper and pulled away the layers of skin he could see his true form fighting to break free. It was really such a pity that his Father came up with this rule that they could only walk the earth in a willing vessel. Nick was a great guy, hell, if he had to be honest he was one of the good guys, but like all of his Father's favorite creations, so easily manipulated and ruled by their emotions.

His mouth slowly turned into a smile as he thought of his true vessel. How long have he waited for this moment? Decades, centuries spent in anticipation in a cage, all but forgotten except by a few of his most loyal children. Everything was finally falling into place and he could almost taste his victory.

He closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath through his nose, if he concentrated hard enough he could almost smell her again. She was the first thing he became aware of as the last lock on his cage broke, the first thing he could smell, taste and see. She was the most exquisite thing he had ever laid eyes on in all creation. It was almost sad watching her soul be consumed by darkness, but now she was perfect.

But then her body just disappeared into thin air and he was left longing for her closeness, for her smell that reminded him of the Garden of Eden. Whoever took her will pay with his life, screaming in agony. He was still recovering from the long time he spend in the cage, but when his powers return to him fully there will be no rock left unturned to find her.

She was the key and she belonged to him.

….

The first thing she became aware of was the putrid smell filling her nostrils, burning her throat with each inhale of breath. She knew that smell, sulphur. Her eyes flew open and after a few seconds, focused on the ceiling above her. Intricate patterns were carved into the dark wood and a single chandelier hung from the middle.

Panic started to build in the pit of her stomach. Where was she? More importantly, how did she get here? She closed her eyes and swallowed hard on the bile that was rising in her throat. Then it all came back to her in a flash of memories. The convent, Sam pinning Lilith against the altar, Ruby grabbing her and then the indescribable pain as the knife penetrated her skin over and over again. Dean's voice as he screamed and the look of horror on his face before the door swung shut. All the blood pooling around her and that terrible high pitch sound as the room became brighter and brighter. But then it all stopped and the pain was gone. Dean was there, he was holding her and he felt so incredibly warm. She felt so save in his arms, so peaceful. And that was when she realized it and she wanted to tell him, but she felt so weak and the words couldn't form on her tongue. She loved him.

But then there was only darkness and the cold realization that Lucifer was free, until now.

She pushed herself up and for a moment the room turned hazy as she was overcome with dizziness. She clung to the soft silky comforter that covered her as she fought for control over her senses. Someone else was in the room with her and her eyes shot to where she could feel the presence emanating from.

"Hello, love." His silky voice said as he slowly rose from the chair he was sitting in. "Welcome back."

"Crowley?" She breathed as he stopped a few feet from the bed, a smile playing on his lips.

"The one and only, love."

She had to get out of here. She flung the comforter of her, ready to jump up and make a run for it, but his words stopped her.

"I wouldn't do that, love. You've been out for quite some time. Your body is still weak."

She slowly turned her gaze back to him and stared at him for a moment, licking her dry lips. What he said made sense, she felt weak and bone tired. But why was she here? Why was she here with him of all places? Where were Dean and Sam? Where was Cas? Where they even alive?

"What am I doing here? Where are Dean and Sam? Am I your prisoner?" She asked as the realization settled over her that she was stuck here, at the mercy of a demon and she was too weak to even fight back.

"So many questions, love?" Crowley said as he placed his arms behind his back, that sinister smile still on his lips as his eyes slowly traveled over her before he continued. "Firstly, you're not my prisoner, more like my guest. Secondly, the Winchester's and their angel are unfortunately still alive. Thirdly, you're here because I saved you."

"What?" She exclaimed as surprise washed over her at his last statement. "I don't understand. You saved me?"

"I know, it's hard to believe. Me, the evil demon saving someone that makes a living hunting monsters like me down. Now why would I do something so absurd?" He said and she didn't miss the hatred that shone in his eyes for a second.

She didn't know how to respond, because nothing about this situation was making any sense to her. Why would the King of the Crossroads save her? Was he after her soul?

"You want me to sell my soul to you?"

Crowley stared at her and suddenly the room filled with his laughter. Confusion settled between her brows as she watched him throw his head back. What was so funny?

He cleared his throat as he tried to compose himself.

"I apologize for my outburst, love. That was very rude of me. Let me explain myself." He said as he stepped closer to the bed, gesturing to the spot where her feet were still covered with the comforter. "May I?"

She nodded and moved her feet out of the way as he settled on the bed, stunned that she didn't feel threatened by his closeness in any way. In the past her skin would have crawled if a demon was just a hundred feet from her.

"I didn't save you to gain your soul. Even if you wanted to you could not sell it to me, because it already belongs to someone else, at least half of it."

"What? How is that…" She started but Crowley's raised hand silenced her.

"Please, love, no interruptions."

She closed her mouth and waited in anticipation for him to continue. Her heart was beating so hard that she was sure he could hear it. What the hell was going on? What was he talking about? Whatever it was that she was about to hear, she just knew that she was not going to like it one bit.

"Let me start at the beginning. We all know the story of Lucifer, how he rebelled against heaven, was defeated and locked in his cage to remain in hell until the start of the apocalypse. How by breaking 66 of the 600 hundred possible seals would set him free. But two of the remaining archangels couldn't bear to watch their Father's beautiful world and the humans that He loved so much be destroyed by their jealous brother. So they created a special key that would unlock the last lock on Lucifer's cage. A key or spell that was practically impossible to recreate, so they thought. The last lock on Lucifer's cage could only be unlocked by the sacrifice of a pure soul. They believed that their plan was full proof for the only stage a soul was that pure was when a child was still in the womb of his mother, not yet tainted by the evils of this world. But nothing is impossible for someone as powerful or devious as the devil. So before he was defeated and locked away he left something very special and very powerful behind with his favorite demon, Lilith. He knew that she would do anything and be able to use it to set him free."

Crowley shifted on the bed before he continued.

"After Lilith discovered what the last key was to unlock her master she went to work. She soon learned that the gift Lucifer left behind could be used to protect a soul from being tainted, but the human soul was too fragile and couldn't contain the power that was supposed to protect it. After many centuries and failed attempts she finally found the solution to her problem. She needed the soul of the baby of a powerful psychic. That's how she found your mother, Lenore."

Raven clutched the comforter tighter in her hands at hearing her mother's name. No, her mother would never let a demon touch her baby or let them do something to her baby's soul!

"No, my mother would never agree to something like that. Never!" She hissed as her eyes filled with tears.

"Lilith knew that, but she didn't need your mother's permission just the right opportunity to link Lucifer's gift with your soul. Your father was hunting down Azazel and one night a demon your father was interrogating gave him false information on the whereabouts of Azazel. Your mother lost most of her psychic powers since she fell pregnant with you and was an easy target. With your father gone and your mother practically defenseless, Azazel struck and it was all over before your mother even realized what happened. After centuries of waiting, planning, failing and trying again and again, Lilith finally succeeded to create the final key to free her master, you."

Two tears slowly rolled down her cheeks as the meaning of his words sunk in. She was the final key that freed the devil. Her life was cursed before she even took her first breath. But why was she even alive? Rage began to build in her stomach, anger so fierce that the intensity of it shocked her. She had never experienced anger at this level before and the hatred that burned like a coal in her heart. What was happening to her? Her eyes flicked back to Crowley staring at her in silence, that same incorrigible smirk plastered on his face and suddenly the feeling to violently slap it off his face was so overwhelming that she had to close her eyes to attempt to control her rampant emotions.

"You feel it, don't you, love?" He whispered and she could feel his weight lift from the bed. "All that anger and hatred begging to be set free? The darkness that threatens to consume you and change you into the very thing you have hunted all your life."

Her eyes shot open as panic gripped her heart in its steel grip. She wanted to scream at him that it was not true, that he was lying; that it was impossible, but how could you deny something that you could feel happening deep inside yourself?

Crowley tilted his head to the side and the smug look on his face fueled the anger she was desperately fighting to contain. And suddenly it was like something snapped inside her and she launched herself at him with a guttural scream.

Crowley anticipated her reaction and was ready for her attack as he caught her by the fore arms. She struggled against him screaming to escape his hold, but she was still too weak and after a few seconds she stopped and stared back at him through tear filled eyes, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

"Now, love, don't unleash all that anger and hatred just yet, because you're going to need it for what's coming."

She stared back at him in confusion as his grip on her arms loosened slowly, not comprehending what he was meaning.

"It's time, love, to put the devil back in his cage."

…

A/N: Thank you for reading!