ALLISON DIDN'T DESERVE TO DIE!
SO THIS IS WHAT I CAME UP WITH.
The dark night seemed darker than usual as he started digging. He buries a photo of him, a black cat's bone he found, yarrow and then buried them in graveyard sand.
He needed to do this.
Needed to do this.
Wanted to do this.
It was the right thing to do.
Oh god, why did this happen? She was not supposed to die. She was just a kid. His kid.
She was not supposed to die.
She shouldn't have died!
No, she was supposed to grow up, maybe go to college, marry the man of her dreams, settle down and lead the rest of her life the way she wanted. She was not supposed to die.
If Anyone should've died, it should've been him. He could've been reunited with Victoria. Allison would've been able to move on, even if it took a long time to.
She would've moved on.
Not like him, standing at the center of crossroads, summoning a crossroads demon in the middle of the blasted night. He had once met two demon hunters, who told him of the crossroads and such.
What were their names? Their names were something related to some sort of gun. Beretta? no, that was not it.
Ah, yes.
Winchester.
The Winchester brothers of the demon hunting kind, and would've put a blasted silver bullet into his thick skull, if they were to know what he was doing.
But this had to be done.
Had to be done.
She was young, oh so young, and she should've never been there in the first place. He had begged her to not go, but being as stubborn as him (it's a family trait, yes), she continued on the war path, just like his beloved, Victoria, although they had died for different reasons, their deaths brought down the same crushing sensation on him.
If only he had stopped her.
He had failed Victoria.
But that didn't hurt this much.
He had failed his own daughter.
He had failed Allison.
He had failed his own blood. There was nothing more to say.
A hunter whom he had met shortly after the brothers told him: Family doesn't end with blood. But this time, it literally did.
His entire family, the family of the Argents, ended with Allison's blood.
Allison's blood on Scott's hands.
He couldn't bring himself to call himself an Argent anymore. The Argents never did anything like this. But he didn't care. He was a lone man, a man who lost both his wife and his daughter to the evils of the supernatural.
If anybody deserved another shot at life, it was Allison.
"Hello, darling."
Chris Argent jumped at the sudden voice.
"Who are - "
"You summoned me here, you pillock."
"You're a crossroads demon?"
"No."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Then what are you?"
"I'm the King of Hell."
Chris snorted. "Why the hell is the King of Hell striking deals with humans? Did you run out of minons?"
"It's not everyday that you see a hunter ready to strike a deal with a demon, Mr. Argent. And yes, I do know your name. And since it's only fair, I should offer mine. The name's Crowley. Ready to strike the deal?"
He hesitated a moment.
"How long will I have?"
The demon named Crowley smiled, a smile that sent a chill right down to the bones and the tendons and to his very soul, the one that he was about to sell to the slight portly looking demon in a suit with a goddamn British accent.
"Since this is a special case, I've decided to grace you five years."
Chris nodded.
"So, lets seal it with a kiss, then, shall we?"
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~ ilovencis98