This is the sequel to Nothing is as it seems.
You should go and read that fic first, really, I don't think this story makes much sense if you don't know what happened before.
However, who am I to tell you what to do, right?

Everything is possible.
In your mind, at least

But there will be a time
When your mind
Will come up with the impossible
And then everything ends

Because there is no way that
The impossible will be forever
Let alone
Be real

Because that is how it is
Everything has to
End

Someday

Prologue

"Care to tell me why you have done what you have done?"

Being the King of Hell was troublesome.

Crowley knew that now.

Frankly, if someone would have told him that he was to become the King of Hell itself, he would have laughed. Not because it was impossible, nah, more because he hadn't been able to picture himself in said position - honestly, there hadn't been much he had pictured or dreamed of, besides those little dreams of taking over the world, mind you. But, that were dreams that every demon had once in a while.

Okay, his name hadn't been unknown to start with, but he usually did his business in the dark. Your friendly neighbourhood crossroads demon, always there to offer you a thing or two - for your soul in return, of course.

Ah, and he was smart - smarter than most of the bunch, that was for sure - and yes, it was true; he certainly had leader qualities, had always had them.

But, being the king of Hell?

However, here he was, and to be honest, he really liked his new job. It was his usual job, just that it was a bit more...official now. And of course there was the fame and the respect, and then all those idiots who looked up to him. Well, at least most of them did. And, really, they had no other choice.

That, and a few reasons more, was why he really didn't want to lose that job again, for it was far too much fun.

And he really, really didn't want to lose this job to the former king of Hell.

"Crowley!" The voice was harsh in its own way.

The new King of Hell looked up from his red pin wheel and smiled, though it was a rather forced smile. Right now, it was him who had no other choice than to be nice and obedient.

"I asked you a question." The voice was smooth again, smooth but dangerous. Crowley knew better than to rely on that, because he knew that things were...well...a bit out of control. And that was never good, that was for sure.

Blue eyes narrowed and Castiel's head lowered itself, his eyes never leaving Crowley's face. There was something diabolic about the angel's features and the shadows of the bleak room seemed to merge with his body as if he belonged with them. Only his bright eyes filled with Grace and his pale face stood out against the darkness that was surrounding him.

Crowley wasn't used to talk to Lucifer while he used the angel Castiel as some sort of vessel. You might wonder how the Hell the King of Hell had ended up in said angel's head, but that really was a complicated story of its own, and even Crowley had been baffled at first.

"Calm down." Crowley sighed as he sat up and leaned back against the back of his chair. "I only did what was necessary."

They both knew that it was a lie.

There had been a plan, and well, Crowley had done what he had been told to do, just not exactly the way he should have...

Lucifer growled, his hands balled into fists. He wanted to get out of the cage, oh, he did. But he needed Crowley and his demons, need his help.

Ah, what a pleasant feeling, the feeling of being the one in control.

That was the feeling that Crowley had always liked the best.

"You don't plan on betraying me, Crowley, do you?" Lucifer asked, his voice calm and smooth, and even Crowley shuddered slightly as those words washed over him. Lucifer was calm, but that was no good sign, not really...

It mostly meant that something bad was about to happen. It also almost always involved lots of people dying, and since Crowley was the only one in this room it probably meant that he was the one to suffer if Lucifer decided that he had enough of Crowley's game.

Ah, really, maybe he should have know better than to tease Lucifer.

"Me?" The demon chuckled and made a lazy gesture with his left hand. He had to keep his careless and cool façade because only then Lucifer would take interest in him, which meant he would stay alive."I know better than to betray the King of Hell."

And that, for once, was true.

He didn't plan and betraying him, he just didn't want to give up his new job that easily...

You could say, he wanted to ... challenge his former boss, that was all. You know, see if he was worthy enough to do the job again - blah blah blah.

"How about a glass of good old scotch? You know -" He winked. "To lift the spirits..." He reached for the bottle of whisky that stood to his right on the small table next to his chair. A little distraction, something to ease the tension.

Lucifer said no word, but he didn't need to; the way he looked at Crowley as if he wanted to strangle him was enough to tell Crowley that there was no time for mocking the King.

"I see..." Crowley sighed deeply and thoughtfully scratched his cheek as he leaned back again. "Okay, okay...I made a mistake by letting him go. But the risk of them finding him was too high, I had to-"

"I can see right through your lies -" Lucifer purred , a bittersweet smile on his lips. "And believe me, I won't hesitate to rip you apart if you continue to play games with me, Crowley, because we both that I am no match for you."

Crowley swallowed hard but then Lucifer shrugged his shoulders. It was surprising how dangerous Castiel looked while Lucifer was using him as his puppet. Crowley had never been afraid of anyone, at least that was what he told himself, but he had always held high respect for the power of the angel.

Now, though, he had to admit that he felt a bit uncomfortable while looking at Castiel, because this was not Castiel; this was Lucifer, who could easily kill him with one simple move of his hand.

"I don't need your apologies, nor do I need the reason for your actions." Lucifer stepped forward, his eyes roaming over the items on the table without really seeing them. "All I need is for him to open the cage."

Crowley nodded slowly. Of course, the cage. Lucifer was still down there, and there was no one who could open that cage, except for one person...

One person, one soul, that was currently in Crowley's custody.

"We will try our best to crack him open." And with that he didn't mean the cage. Crowley smirked.

Lucifer looked up. Castiel's eyes seemed much colder now as they met Crowley's.

"And I need the Time Lord. You have to find him before they do." His face darkened. "They know about the plan."

Crowley raised one eyebrow in surprise. "They do?"

Lucifer nodded grimly, but gave no explanation.

The fallen angel straightened his back and paced up and down in front of Crowley's chair, his hands folded behind his back. He was stern, but not worried. It seemed that he was sure that his plan would work.

"The Winchesters already suspect something to be wrong with Castiel. My connection isn't strong enough and his Grace fights me even if he doesn't know that I am here." Lucifer made an angry grimace and Crowley had to hide his amusement.

Castiel really was something...

"I don't think I will be able to control him for much longer.." Lucifer mused as he grabbed the bottle of scotch. He eyed it with tilted head as he continued to speak, though he seemed to have little interest in the amber liquid. "And I don't think I need to."

Of course, as soon as the real Lucifer was free, the connection to Castiel's mind and the remains of his presence wouldn't be necessary anymore...

"But-" Lucifer carefully placed the bottle back onto the dusty table and smiled. "-This will only work if I can be sure that you will help me, Crowley. I can rely on you, right? You will continue to help me, won't you?"

There was no yes or no - there was just yes.

"Yes." Crowley smiled broadly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I can assure you that I will do everything within my power to find the Time Lord." He paused. "Opening the Cage included, of course."

Lucifer nodded, pleased with the outcome of the talk. "Very well, Crowley. You have chosen your path. I can only hope that you won't leave it again." He smiled.

There was the rustle of feathers and the air moved slightly as the giant wings carried the angel away and out of Crowley's sight.

He sat there for a few minutes, the pin wheel moving slowly. The room seemed darker and colder now that the angel and his Grace were gone, but Crowley was glad to be alone again.

Angels...Their Grace was burning even underneath the flesh of their meatsuits.

It was disgusting, really. Too bright.

The King sighed loudly and threw the pin wheel through the room, for he had no need for it anymore.

"Bloody angels..." He grumbled to himself, a glass ready in his hand. He reached for the scotch and poured the drink into the glass. "They never leave you alone." He mumbled, the glass at his lips.

As said, being the King of Hell was actually really stressful.

.

Somewhere, at the same time, a young man was running down a street. It was raining, but he hardly felt the rain, even if the button-down shirt was everything else than a warm protection against the harsh wind.

He was soaking wet from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, his brown hair hanging into his eyes. He tried to push it out of his face several times, but the wind always tugged it loose again.

Every inch of his body ached and breathing was difficult, as if something had been ripped out of him and was now missing, as if there was a hole that was open and bleeding.

There was blood, had been blood, but the rain had washed it away.

But he felt nothing now, nothing but the dull ache and the pain in his head.

He felt numb.

If he could see himself he would notice how pale he was, that he was trembling terribly.

The world was grey, at least the world he knew, at least what he saw now.

Was it always this grey? Was this how the world was supposed to look like?

Was it normal?

There was no sound besides the rain and the blood rushing in his ears.

The streets were empty, and so was he.

All he felt was emptiness.

A big, gaping hole inside him, inside his mind.

He..

He didn't know where he was, what he was doing...

He knew nothing. His mind was blank.

He shivered, but he was not sure if it was because of the cold weather or the fact that he had no idea who he was or what had happened.

Rounding a corner, his breath unsteady, he felt chased but didn't know why.

"Outch!" Someone gasped.

A woman.

He staggered backwards and nearly fell to the wet ground, his hands searching for support but finding none.

The woman looked at him, confusion on her face, but then she reached out and grabbed his shoulders to steady him before he doubled over.

She had bright red lips, hair so blond that it was almost white. Her clothes were bright and didn't fit the weather. To be honest, she only wore a short skirt in black and a top that seemed to small for her. He was almost sure it was too small for her, because her breast clearly wanted to escape the tight shirt.

He wondered why anybody would wear an outfit like that. Maybe she didn't know how to dress herself? Or maybe she had no money? But the big golden earings and the face full of make-up seemed to tell another story...

So, maybe that was what people liked to wear today?

But who was he to judge her? She seemed to like what she was wearing, so everything was fine, was it? Although she shivered, a sign that she felt cold.

She really should have taken a jacket with her, at least. Next time she would know better.

"Are you alright? Is he a drunk, harassing you?"

There was another woman. She stood next to the brick wall, and her hair was as dark as the night. She, too, wore clothes that seemed to be unfitting for the cold weather.

He noticed that her skin was darker and her hair curly.

She eyed him with cold, dark eyes, not stepping outside the shadow of the wall. Somehow he had the feeling she didn't trust him and was hiding in the shadows.

"I don't know." The woman in blond admitted. "He stumbled into me."

She turned to him again, a smile on her lips. "Are you alright, sugar? Do you need help?" Her voice was soft but a bit distanced, as if she wasn't sure how to handle him.

He didn't react, his green eyes wide and afraid. He was shivering again, or had he been shivering the whole time?

"Hey?" She seemed worried now, her brow furrowed and her eyes searching for his. "Are you alright? Did something happen to you?"

Suddenly her eyes widened as she spotted the blood on his shirt. "Have you been hurt?!" She asked, looking him up and down with her eyes, afraid to find more blood or a serious wound. "Was there a fight?!"

"I am sorry..." He answered, slowly, unsure of his own words. He was slightly out of breath and his voice sounded strange to his own ears. "But I am afraid I don't understand you."

His head did hurt.

The woman blinked, surprised, and turned back to her friend. At least he assumed that the other woman was her friend. What else would they both be doing here in the side street during this horrible rain?

Or was that normal?

"What... What the Hell did he say?"

No word.

Everything they said, he couldn't understand it. Slowly but surely he felt panic rising inside his chest.

This meant he was far from home, this meant he could be everywhere but where he should be!

The dark haired woman shrugged her shoulders. "Dunno. Couldn't understand a word he said. Sounds foreign to me. Maybe he's from Europe?"

The blond woman sighed and turned back to him. She eyed him with her hazel eyes, and nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're right. Just look at him, haven't seen anyone like this around here. And that outfit, no one in his age wears that. Didn't even know that someone so young would willingly touch a tweed-jacket."

The other woman laughed but nodded. "See, told ya."

"But, what now?" The woman let go of him and he followed her movements with his eyes, his arms slung around his hurting body as if to protect himself. He was nervous, didn't know what to do.

"I mean, he seems lost, kinda. And look at him, something's not right. He looks a bit ill, if you ask me, and there is blood..."

The both exchanged a look.

"I am Judy." The dark haired woman suddenly said, pointing at herself as she took a few steps out of the shadow of the wall. "Judy."

"And I-" The blonde laid her hand on her chest."- I am Mell." She smiled again. Her round face was friendly, but he felt like a scared animal that they tried to calm down.

Maybe that was what he was? A scared animal?

They waited, and he realized that it was his turn now - they wanted to know his name.

But...

He had no name, couldn't remember it.

He smiled nervously, unsure about what to do next, and shrugged his shoulders while shaking his head. He winced a bit as the movement caused pain to spread through his body. Something was damaged...

They seemed confused, and so he sighed and pointed at himself like they had done earlier, shrugging his shoulders again.

"I don't know my name." He said, apologetically. "I can't remember."

It was no use, though. They couldn't understand him anyway.

He felt helpless, and he hated it. He didn't want to feel helpless and alone, and empty and afraid, he just wanted to know who he was and what was going on!

He just... wanted everything to be alright again...

Judy raised one eyebrow, then she laughed. He didn't know what was funny about this situation, but at least she seemed to accept him now, which was a good start.

Maybe they could help him?

Maybe they could find someone who knew who he was and what had happened to him?

They seemed nice, friendly; he was sure they could help him, he was sure!

He allowed himself to relax a bit, but the tension in his limbs was not entirely gone.

"Let's take him somewhere dry." Mell suggested."He looks miserable already, and he's hurt. I don't think getting sick makes it better."

She smiled at him, warm and friendly, and took his arm. He flinched, without knowing why, but she shushed him. "It's alright." She said, slowly, as if he would understand her words better that way.

He couldn't.

No word.

"We are going to find someone who is going to take care of you."

He was lost.

Timelines

Supernatural: Season 8tish

Sherlock: After season 2
Doctor Who: Timey Wimey, around the first part of season 7 (I...guess?)