"You boys are bloody brilliant, you know that?" Cocky, British, a little nasally - annoying and generally exactly where he didn't need to be - of course it was Crowley.
The Winchester brothers were in a house, cleaning up after fighting off a rogue werewolf. Classic hunt, really, which was nice. All of the anarchy, conspiracy theories, mental, emotional crap otherwise had been giving Dean a headache alcohol and coffee only made worse - and he wasn't sure how to deal with that exactly.
"Get lost," Dean offered succinctly. Crowley gave him a sarcastic wrinkle of his nose and proceeded to ignore him. Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam shrugged his shoulders and continued cleaning his knife.
"You two are missing something, of course," Crowley was muttering, wandering around the room until coming to a stop in front of the coat closet adjacent to the hall. "Aha," He looked back at them, the smug 'why didn't you think of this' look scrawled on his face as he flung the door open.
Inside the closet, on the floor with her arms wrapped around her knees, was a girl. She seemed to be about 18 years old, with short curly auburn hair highlighted almost white on top, and blacked out sunglasses over her eyes. She was sniffing a little, and shaking slightly, in a large sweater and slightly baggy jeans.
"It's about time," She said shakily, and paused. "Is it… is it over?" Sam immediately got up and approached her.
"You're Lea, aren't you? Um… His daughter?" She snorted when he hesitated, but nodded.
"Is it done?" She repeated. Sam bent down in front of her. With the glasses, he assumed she was blind, but it seemed as though she was looking directly at him.
"Yeah," He said gently. "So you knew…"
"He was a werewolf? Yeah. I've been putting silver shavings in his food and water for months - kept it weak, but… Well, I guess he couldn't hold it off forever." Dean looked over, surprised.
Sam sighed, watching her sympathetically. "Listen, why don't you come out of there?" He asked, extending his hand. She instantly shrunk away from it.
"No - no thanks, I'd rather… stay here for now." She said, folding in on herself.
"It's okay, we won't hurt you," Sam tried to reassure her. "My brother and I -"
"Are hunters, you're here to help, I got it. That's not my problem. I'd just - rather not." She paused, maybe grasping for words. "Don't exactly want to step in any of dad's… um… extremities, or remains, I guess."
Sam winced. "I'm really sorry -"
She cut him off again. "No, I know. I came to terms with the fact that I lost my dad months ago. Just… finish cleaning up or whatever, don't worry about me."
Sam could feel his face pinched up with worry, but decided not to push it and stepped away. She fell very still and quiet again as he returned to Dean.
"What do you think?" He asked quietly. Dean shrugged.
"Whatever she says, kid's grieving. Maybe hiding in a closet's better than alcohol, for all I know. She's probably not legal for anything else yet. Leave her be." Sam agreed and helped finish mopping up the blood.
Crowley stayed, beside the door, watching the girl curiously.
The brothers finished soon and stopped by the closet where the girl still was on their way out. They glowered at Crowley, who twiddled his fingers at them and Dean turned to Lea.
"Kid, you got… family who can take care of you? Place to stay, stuff like that?"
Lea snorted. "I'm almost nineteen," she told him.
"Not what I asked." He shot back.
"Fine. Yeah, a state over. And I know how to work a phone. They knew about dad's... thing, so I can tell them."
Sam and Dean shrugged before Dean turned to Crowley. "Well?"
Crowley lifted an eyebrow. "Well, what?"
"You're still here for some reason. Make yourself useful. I don't know… give her something. Protection."
"What do you expect? If you haven't noticed, it's usually the upstairs involved in the guard business."
"Then what are you doing here, Crowley?" Sam sighed.
"Well, now you mention it, I guess I can give her a little something… Because you asked so nicely, of course."
Dean looked up, blinking in surprise. Him and his own big mouth. "What?" He said. "What the hell?"
Crowley smirked. "Exactly." He popped away and back again, only this time with a snorting empty space he was petting beside him.
"What. The. Hell." Dean repeated, pulling out his knife again. Sam easily slung the shotgun around in his hands.
"Relax, boys." Crowley groaned. "Sure, my dogs like chewing things up, but their main purpose is to guard. That's what you asked for, right?"
"Why, Crowley?" Sam asked sharply.
"Easy, moose. My hound's never had a huan charge before. Color me curious. He won't harm her - he'll obey any of her commands in fact, so most likely no dead relatives, either. Impressed yet?" They looked at him blankly, until he rolled his eyes. "Watch. Hey, sweetheart, call for the pup, will you? My very own pet just for you, yeah?"
Lea had been studiously ignoring them up until that point. She sighed before whistling and clicking her tongue.
"Here, boy, come here! Here!" She sounded awfully sarcastic, before she let out a quick scream.
Sam and Dean both jumped and watched her closely, but her hands were stretched out in front of her, as if she was petting it.
"See?" Crowley said, turning their attention back to him.
"Crowley, if this stinking mess starts thinking about going wrong, I'll be pulling my own little play thing right out of your ass."
"Oh Dean, you certainly have a way with words. What a charmer."
"You don't just use humans as guinea pigs, Crowley. Especially kids." Sam said.
"I'm eighteen." Came Lea's voice, a little muffled.
Crowley motioned to her. "She's eighteen," He repeated. "And yes… I do. But this won't harm her, so at this point it's really her choice anyway, isn't it?" Playing the 'free will' card seemed pretty low. They stopped for a minute, watching Lea petting the air that took the slight shape of a hound, the way her hands were moving. "It's just a pup, anyway. She can train it up any way she likes."
"I'll be fine," Lea cut in. "Don't have to worry about me."
"Yeah, well… Whatever." Dean mumbled, shifting his feet uncomfortable. "Listen, kid, I don't like leaving you here alone -" Lea turned and again stared somehow directly at him, a blank look almost daring him to continue on her face. "I was going to suggest," He began forcefully, "That we give you our numbers or something, but.."
"I have a good memory." She answered. "If you just tell me your number or address or whatever you want to give me, I'll remember."
He made her repeat both the address and number multiple times before he was satisfied, but soon they felt comfortable enough to leave - or until they felt like they had to. Crowley had popped out a while ago, with another few promises that the hellhound wouldn't hurt her, and a few reminders that he was king of the crossroads, promise keeper extraordinare, but they had eventually let him leave the hound there as well.
As the boys drove back to the bunker, they didn't say much. They were both too preoccupied with blind girls feeding their werewolf fathers silver and keeping hellhounds as pets for that.