A/N: Been writing and editing and sitting on this one for over a year. Now that the first four chapters are fully edited and the other five well on the way, I thought now was a good time as any to upload. Should be updated every week or two weeks, I'll know how that's going to work by next friday. AO3 will definitely be updated on fridays and I'm hoping to update on fridays as well, so long as I don't get to busy, in which case updates will be on sundays. And I'm sorry for the dark humor in the title. I enjoyed that more than I should have. Enjoy!

~Alorev

Gentle arms wrapped around his neck and a smile spread across Bobby's lips. He leaned down for a kiss as they swayed to sourceless music. Karen's lips were gentle against his, perched in a smile. He pulled away and blinked once. The figure before him wasn't Karen, but someone else. A faint figure, but a somehow familiar figure all the same. He caught the flash of dark clothes and the spark of green eyes and his mouth opened to speak-

Wham!

Bobby jumped upwards, scrambling in a panic for a moment. It took a moment to realize he wasn't trapped, just entangled in his chair. He grumbled to himself as he shook the sleep out of his system. A shotgun sat at against the leg of his desk and he picked it up. He spared a glance to the book he'd been using as a pillow, grateful not to have drooled on it. It wasn't like falling asleep at his desk was an uncommon occurrence, just an annoying one. He shook away the memory of shadowed clothing and bright eyes, deciding it was just a weird dream. It happened more often than not since he'd become a hunter that his dreams seemed strange, even to him.

He focused on where he'd heard the bang come from. He could hear panting, a soft, scuffling noise and a dog-like whining. Bobby was silent as he stood, moving toward the doorway on soft feet. He padded to one side of the open doorway, listening, shotgun cocked and safety off. It paid to know how to compensate for old age when you had a job where you needed to be light on your feet.

"R-Robert?" A voice called out, strangled and stuttering but it was familiar. Bobby squinted, lips pursed as he came to a decision. He whirled around the corner, shot gun up and at the ready, just in case. The air by his coat rack growled at him but Bobby only spared it a little bit of attention. Instead his eyes stayed glued to the man sprawled against his front door, sweaty and panting. "Oh...thank hell...you're here. Growley...mmm...no. Down."

Bobby lowered the shotgun slightly, slowly and distrustfully. He moved it to point in the hellhounds direction, expecting the hound to be more of a threat than Crowley. "What're you doin' here? An' why'd you look like you look like you're about to pass out on my floor?"

"Thank you...for your...concern, Robert." Crowley grunted around his words. His eyes drifting away from Bobby as he gathered his feet beneath himself. He tried to stand, only to waver and slump against the door again. "Could you...help me up...please?"

Bobby started and blinked, shotgun faltering for a moment. He let the realization that Crowley had said the word please in a non-sarcastic manner to sink in. Crowley looked vaguely embarrassed about it but didn't say anything. He went to step forward and then thought better of it. "Is your dog gonna bite my hand off if I try to come over there."

Crowley shifted to look in the direction Bobby was and shook his head. "No. He won't."

Bobby reached out a hand but stopped when the hellhound growled at him. He retracted his offer, in the least threatening manner he could. He raised an eyebrow at Crowley, ready to walk away.

Crowley was quick to curb the behavior, sighing in annoyance. "Growley no, bad. Robert is not a threat. At least not right now."

Bobby snorted but the dog didn't make a move at him this time and he reached out to Crowley. The demon took his hand and stumbled when he got to his feet, almost falling to the floor. Bobby hauled him into his arms on instinct. Crowley collapsed against his chest as Bobby's arm slipped around his back. He leaned on Bobby with a quiet curse that sounded suspiciously like Gaelic. "Whoa. What happened t' you?"

"I'll explain...in a moment…" Crowley grit his teeth together as he spoke. Bobby kept his questions to himself, half carrying Crowley to the couch. The demon complied to the hunters fussing, sitting at Bobby's insistence. Bobby tried to reign that particular instinct in and found it hard to do. The hardwood floor creaked at Crowley's side, which meant Growley had followed them.

Bobby retreated behind the safety of his desk, away from Crowley and his hellhound. He shuffled around the clutter, pretending to look for something. In reality he was just searching for something to distract himself. "You gonna tell me what's goin' on an' why you're here, now?"

"You remember those bones I collected in return for giving back your soul?" Crowley sank back against the couch but not without wincing and a quiet grunt rushed past his lips. Bobby nodded his affirmative and Crowley continued, caution evident in the way he spoke. "Well, I have a traitor in my ranks. I left them where I thought they'd be safe and they're no longer there."

"An' what does that hafta do with you stumblin' in here like a baby deer?" Bobby stepped out in front of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. He forced himself to bark out the question and be harsh instead of soft in the face of the demons obvious pain.

Crowley sighed uneasily and reached up to pull away his suit jacket. He loosened his tie and peeled away his dress shirt, only to reveal a wide swath of bubbling burn. "Whoever the traitor is, they have my bones. And they're burning them one by one, which is quite the painful process by the way. Once the last one's gone…"

"So are you." Bobby finished flatly, eyes narrowing in blatant suspicion. "But why'dja come to me? Last time we talked for more'n five minutes I almost had your bones burnt an' you double crossed me. You should know the only hunters who wantcha dead more than me are Sam an' Dean. You didn't strike me as the stupid type before this Crowley."

Crowley deflated, looking down and Bobby could've sworn that the demon looked crushed. "I don't...I don't know why. I just came here. I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. Suprisingly, you're the one who wants to kill me the least out of all the enemies I've made. I was-"

"You're scared, hurt an' your instincts told'ja that you were safest here, didn' they?"

Crowley didn't look him in the eye but nodded and Bobby sighed in response. "I don' know why it'd go through your head that comin' to a hunter was a good idea. But you ain't the first to come here for those exact reasons and you ain't gonna be the last. What exactly do ya expect me to do 'bout this?"

"I didn't…" Crowley exhaled a deep breath and shifted awkwardly against the back cushion. "I can't go to my subordinates. I don't know which of them is the traitor yet and too look weak in front of them right now would get me overthrown. Hell is...it's Hell, it's never safe. The only other place I would've gone was my house here on the surface. Unfortunately Lucifer had that place and everything in it razed to the ground. What other choice did I have left? Like it or not, this is the safest place for me right now. Strange, I know. I like this as much as you do, but I figured there was a slim chance you'd help. And if not, then at least I could get a quick death here instead of the torture of this awful, slow one. I did help you once, the least you could do is give me a merciful death if I can't stop this."

"An' if I do help you, are you gonna turn on my right after? Take advantage of me?" Bobby waved off Crowley's explanation on the outside. In his mind he processed the words with something akin to shock. "What exactly do I get outta this, besides a knife in the back?"

Crowley chewed on his lower lip for a moment and studiously avoided Bobby's gaze. "I'd...be willing to make a deal of sorts. I won't backstab you and you can request something, a free pass of sorts, within reason. There are some things that go just too far and certain things I can't do anyways."

"Jus' be glad your first instinct wasn't to go to the boys for help." Bobby kept his voice and expression neutral. He'd expected a deal or some sort of business transaction. But a free pass? That was hard to ignore, it would be useful no matter what happened. "But you're right. You can't do this on your own."

Crowley tensed up . Judging by the squeak of floorboards so had the hellhound. Bobby could see him attempting to discourage his hopefulness and tried to ignore it. "So you'll...you mean you'll…"

"Ya, but only so long as we make this deal official. I don't even trust you as far as I could throw you. An' we do this on my conditions. Better the enemy you know an' all that." He waited for the inevitable snarky or borderline flirty response.

Instead the King of Hell doubled over, crying out in pain and Bobby's eyes widened. Any control over his bleeding heart went out the window and he was at Crowley's side in a few steps. The command came just as the growling started before Bobby could do anything. "Growley...no…"

The hellhound whined but did nothing. Bobby manipulated Crowley's clothing aside with no resistance from the injured demon. His expression clenched, to his own surprise, as he watched the burn spread. He was inexplicably angry at whoever was the cause of it and everyone involved. Crowley's face scrunched up in pain and Bobby swallowed. He couldn't leave Crowley to a slow death like this, even though he wished to want it. He couldn't allow it, it went too much against what he stood for. "Alright, I'll help, period. You able to do anythin' 'bout these burns?"

Crowley's expression morphed to pained shock. "You...you'll actually help? I thought…"

"I already said I'd help, don't test my patience."

"The deal-"

"Just let me help you alrigh'?" Bobby's jaw clenched and his eyes averted to the burns again. "Right now you aren't in any position to double cross me an' if we need to, we'll talk about it later. Jus' leave it for now okay?"

"Thank you Robert." There was a blink of human emotion in Crowley's green eyes. Bobby recognized it as gratefulness and appreciation. "I mean it...thanks."