I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. I make no monetary profit off of this story.
Take Me to Church
"With your courage wearing thin
Your enemies are at the gates
And their voices screamin shrill
Give it up and run away
Oh, children lost in the night
Try and do right
Open your eyes…" – Light Of Day by The Silent Comedy
Chapter Two: Light of Day
No light but the lamps in the bunker, neither Crowley nor Sam knew exactly what time it was when they both woke up. Leaning against each other like soldiers resting in the jungle. Sam groaned and started rubbing his head, clearly hungover. Crowley slowly got to his feet and stretched with a sigh.
"Bloody hell… How long were we out?" asked Crowley in a groggy tone, fixing his suit. The drugged and drunken sleep had been nice, it had made all of this reality seem like just a bad dream. Now awake and sober, the pain began to settle back in.
"Um, I don't know exactly. I do know that it's morning but probably not light outside just yet." Replied Sam, looking at his watch. The large man ran a hand through his very messy hair and shuffled off towards the kitchen for a hangover cure.
Crowley watched him go, fingers fiddling with his loosened tie for a few moments before he gave up on trying to fix it. Not really caring if he looked like a train wreck or not. The king wandered around the main room and then down the hall towards the bedrooms, stopping when he reached Dean's.
He flicked on the light and wandered into Dean's bedroom, stepping over to the bed and taking a seat with a soft sigh. He partially regretted the deep breath, finding out that the room smelled exactly like him, making the longing that much more fierce. His brows furrowed as he pushed his hand down on the mattress.
"Memory foam? You diva…" he muttered then actually managed a chuckle, his first real, sober one in days.
Crowley turned his attention over to the picture propped against the bedside lamp, a picture of a very young Sam and Dean sitting on the Impala with John. Looking at it made his heart ache. Even then, when he couldn't have been any older then 8 or 9, Dean had that hardened look in his eyes. The look of having seen too much, the look of having been forced to be a parent to his brother when he was still a kid himself, the look of a grown man who has nightmares but no one to talk about them to.
The king looked away then kicked his shoes off before laying back on the bed. He turned his head slightly and closed his eyes, breathing in the lingering scent of Dean again. For the first time that he could honestly remember, he sincerely considered trying to pray.
Xxxxxx
Gabriel fiddled with the warrior weapons on the walls of the once again redone head office. Ignoring Castiel's nervous looks in his direction as they waited silently for their eldest brother to return and find them.
"Are you sure you should be doing that?" whispered Cas, swallowing hard once.
"We're supposed to share our toys." Retorted Gabriel, blinking and instantly turning when the door opened. Michael's head tilted slightly, the doors swiftly shutting behind him as he stepped over towards his brothers.
"I was under the impression you were dead, little brother." Stated Michael, smiling in something like relief. He and Lucifer had always liked Gabriel the most. In fact, that was really all the two had had in common.
"Come on, Mikey. Can't trick the trickster." Replied Gabriel, stepping over and smiling widely at his big brother.
"I am glad you're alright. I assume that if you're here, you have heard about our current situation regarding our brother." Said Michael, smile fading as he slipped into a business mode, pointedly ignoring Castiel.
"Yes, I'm up to speed. He doesn't know I'm alive, Mike. Neither do any of the other angels or any demons aside from Crowley. I figure I can distract him. If anything will catch his attention, it would be me."
"I agree. I'm still going forward with my plans, though, so be watching your back." Stated Michael, then turning to Castiel.
"Brother." Stated Cas, giving a curt nod. Michael looked at him for several moments then stepped over.
"Come here, I have battle plans specifically for you." Answered Michael. Castiel stepped over, as did Gabriel, looking at what Michael had drawn up.
"Why not attack from all angles?" asked Gabriel, brows furrowed.
"Because it will force them back and that's where Crowley's forces will be waiting. It's a trap. They won't have anywhere else to retreat. It is imperative that he knows exactly when to be there and to be ready." Explained Michael, standing up straight.
Xxxxxx
Crowley no longer had his eyes closed, not letting himself sleep. It just seemed wrong to sleep in his lover's bed alone. He had the photograph he'd found, holding it so that he could stare at it. Time was a different thing to him than it was to the boys but he was certain that memories were not. If he'd asked Dean, he was sure the man would remember exactly where they were when this picture was taken. Who took it, where they were going, everything.
He was pulled from his thoughts by Sam clearing his throat. The larger Winchester was leaning against the door's frame, watching him. Crowley looked at him for a moment then flipped the picture so Sam could see what he was gazing at.
"Oh. You know, I vaguely remember when that was taken. Bobby took that picture." Stated Sam, walking over and pulling out the desk chair, sitting in it.
"I had assumed he had. I'm surprised his thumb isn't in the way, though." Crowley teased, earning a chuckle from Sam.
"If he was here right now, I have a feeling he'd swat at you for that."
"It just bothers me. Dean looks so…worn out. So sad. Lonely, in a way." Said Crowley, tone dropping.
"Dean and I didn't have the most fun experience growing up. It was worse for him, though. He was the oldest, he had all the responsibilities."
"He never really had the chance to just be a kid. I understand how that feels. Kinda digs a hole into your heart that doesn't ever really get filled." Replied Crowley softly. Sam's brows furrowed in confusion, head tilting slightly.
"You know…I just realized none of us ever tried to learn about or even ask you about your childhood."
"Why would you want to?"
"I don't know. Maybe just because you're our friend now and you've probably never had anyone to talk to about it. People aren't generally born bad, Crowley. We know you were a drunk, we know you and Gavin didn't get along, we know that at some point you felt low enough to sell your soul. None of that explains why those things happened. Why you did what you did or were who you were." Replied Sam, then turning and pulling more pictures out, realizing he was starting to sound like a psychiatrist and that it was likely going to piss the demon off.
"My childhood was fairly miserable. I never met my father, my mother never spoke of me having any father, it was just a topic we pretended didn't exist." Stated Crowley after a moment of silence, his fingers placing the picture flat on his chest. Sam turned to look at him again, absently holding a small stack of photographs.
"So you were raised by your mother."
"Raised is a very loose term for how she parented me."
"She was abusive?" asked Sam in a gentle tone.
"In more ways than one. I still loved her, Sam, she was my mother. You can't just…not have love for your parent, even if they were cruel to you."
"I understand that." Sam stated quietly, thinking of Dean and John, about how all the fights didn't matter.
"She was a witch, a natural witch. Dark magic. The kind you see in horror movies where witches and warlocks are summoning demons and doing black masses and such. That hardly exists nowadays, was even rare back then, but they were the kind you feared. I wasn't born a natural. I get the feeling she never wanted me even if I had been but I think the reason she kept me was the hope that I'd show natural abilities soon."
"But you didn't. Or you'd be a warlock by now, not a demon."
"Basically. I was very smart, very bright boy. I learned quickly but it's not the same power when you're not a natural. It wasn't good enough for her. By the time I was 6, she quit pretending she was happy to be a mother or happy she'd had me. She drank, shouted at me, tried to make me feel guilty for existing, sometimes tossed me around when she was really drunk. I distinctly remember her trying to manipulate me into going hunting alone if she knew a snow storm was coming. The dog, my dog, always dragged me back before we'd freeze out there. Scotland's very, very cold in the winter. This was back when we had rough cloth tunics and you had to kill animals for fur to keep warm, you see. No decent footwear, either." Explained Crowley, fingers drumming on his chest briefly, not looking at Sam. He was unaware of the sympathetic gaze the hunter was showing him and probably wouldn't have continued if he saw it.
"Jesus…" muttered Sam at the last part, at hearing she basically tried to have him get lost or freeze.
"Hell, she even tried to sell me to a farmer for 3 pigs once. Three! I was a bright boy, I could read and write, a decent hunter, good worker, I could even juggle. I was worth more than 3 pigs." Sighed Crowley, crossing his legs at the ankles.
"What did she need 3 pigs for that badly?"
"I don't know. Craving bacon? No good reason. One night when I was 8, she told me she'd be right back, left, and I never saw her again. I'll be back in a flash, she'd said. I assume someone killed her eventually."
"You took care of yourself from 8 years old and on?..." blurted Sam, eyes widened.
"Basically, yeah. That was a very rough winter to finish out but I had my dog. Eventually my dog died, though. At one point I went and worked for a farmer. Got to sleep in a barn, got fed, made my own clothes. Long as I worked."
"That had to have been at least a bit of a relief, though."
"Not really. Let's just say I was only 10 and that farmer was a perverted prick with a liking for young boys. When it got to the point that I was scared to sleep anywhere he'd find me, I left. Ran off. Went back to what I was doing with my dog until I got a job as a tailor as a young man." Replied Crowley, slowly sitting up and placing his feet on the floor again with a sigh. He set the picture down where he'd found it.
"I'm sorry." Stated Sam quietly. Crowley waved a hand at him before pulling his shoes back on.
"It was a very long time ago. Centuries ago. In an old life. That boy, even that drunken man…they're not who I am anymore. That boy was drowned by liquor and that man was torn apart by hellhounds." Said Crowley, lifting his head to look at Sam.
"I've got more pictures here. If you wanted to look at them." Replied Sam, again pitying the demon in front of him but not addressing it as he set the pictures down and stood up.
"I'll make a point to do that with Dean when we bring him back." Stated Crowley, standing up as well. He didn't smile, he didn't really believe they'd succeed the way they were hoping to. He didn't believe he was going to survive this, even if Dean did. Sam opened his mouth to speak but didn't get the chance as they heard footsteps just before Castiel stopped at the doorway.
"I have news from Michael. Gabriel is still with him. He has instructions for where you are to place your forces." Stated Cas. Crowley nodded and headed out, following Cas to the main part of the bunker.
Sam stayed behind for a moment, fingers moving the photographs around until he saw one of Dean holding him when he was a baby. One of the very few pictures they still had from before their mother was murdered. Sam picked up the photograph and stuck it in the chest pocket of his shirt, patting it as he headed out of the room.
"I guess it's my turn to save you from a fire." He muttered, stepping out to the main room where Crowley and Castiel were already talking. It was all business between the angel and demon but, fortunately, it did seem they had gotten their anger towards each other out of their systems the night before.
"You just have to have enough of a force or appear threatening enough that it will make them halt when they try to retreat. Just long enough for them to be boxed in. That is how this battle will be won." Finished Castiel, giving the king a firm nod. Crowley cleared his throat and thought for a moment.
"I'm not positive I'll have a big enough force, to be honest. The only beasts in Hell that I know are loyal to me above all are the hounds. Even hounds are difficult for angels to beat, even more so for demons. It should be enough to stall them." Answered Crowley, not adding that he was sure he and the hounds would be slaughtered even if they did manage to stall.
"We don't have much time before it begins." Added Cas, looking over at Sam.
"Where do I go, then?" asked Sam, folding his arms.
"You'll be with Gabriel. He's going to meet you here just before it begins." Stated Cas, handing Sam a piece of paper with a location scribbled on it.
"Alright. I'll get going." Replied Sam, yanking the Impala's keys from his pocket and heading out. The angel and demon followed him to the exit, stepping out after him. After Sam locked the door, he turned to find they had both left. Taking a deep breath, he subconsciously patted his chest pocket where that picture sat as he got into the car and it snarled to life.
Xxxxxx
Hell was just as silent as the last time Crowley had stepped out onto that brimstone peak. Except this time it was because there were hardly any demons still in it. Lucifer had clearly gone over his head and lifted control so that the demons could go aid him easily if they wished. It wasn't hard, Crowley knew Lucifer had more power here than he did. At least the souls were still trapped, that was the only silver lining he saw.
"I assume those of you that are still here are with me…" he stated, voice amplified, looking out at the couple dozen demons and few hundred hellhounds. None attempted to flee, apparently they were going to stand with him. In all honesty, it was more than he expected.
"I don't have a rousing battle cry for you, I don't have an encouraging speech. What I do know is that this is our battle of the apocalypse. Not earth's, ours. Heaven's, too. The Archangel Michael and his forces are our allies, the only angels you are to engage with are the ones on Lucifer's side. Michael is there to defeat Lucifer, plain and simple. That's all he is concerned about. We are going there to help save Dean Winchester. If you are not okay with that, walk. If you are going to turn on us in battle, walk. Just hope I don't catch you when this is over." He added in a threatening tone, not even aware of how frightening he sounded. His emotions boiling over in a tidal wave.
The creatures beneath him stayed silent and none moved. It appeared that there were some in Hell that were loyal to him. He vaguely realized that the majority of the demons were crossroads demons, not aware that they were loyal to him because they knew from him running the crossroads that he was the leader they needed.
"Smaller forces have won bigger battles. We are what the world is frightened of. This world, our kingdom is what strikes terror in even the hearts of angels. Now is when we get to show our enemies and the traitors that left us exactly why they should forever fear us. If you're with me, then follow me." He stated, turning to head out of Hell.
Xxxxxx
Dean watched in horror and agony as the fiftieth Sam he'd seen was ripped apart. He knew he was hallucinating, he knew Lucifer was doing this to mess with his head, but that didn't make it any less of torture. He clenched his eyes closed and grit his teeth, trying to pretend he was somewhere else.
"Aren't you excited, Dean?" asked Lucifer, a smirk having been on his face since he returned, which made the knight very uneasy. Dean slowly opened his eyes to see Lucifer relaxing on a stone chair, watching him dangle from the chains and meat hooks.
"Excited for what? Your next bowel movement?" snapped Dean, breathless and voice hardly sounding like his own.
"You know I've never understood your very bland, juvenile sense of humor. Anyway, you didn't answer my question. Are you excited?" asked Lucifer, using a zippo to light individual Bible pages as he pulled them free from the copy on his lap.
"You didn't answer mine, asshat. Excited for what?"
"For what's about to happen. It's very exciting, Dean. Even more so than the apocalypse was." Answered Lucifer, tossing the burning pages aside and lighting some more.
"What are you talking about? What's about to happen?" asked Dean, finding his eyes felt very heavy, his entire being absolutely exhausted. Before Lucifer could answer him, lightening snapped in the sky, no thunder following it.
They both stared up, Lucifer smiling as he tossed the Bible aside and stood up fully. While staring upward, their attention was turned downward. The ground beginning to shake, but not like an earthquake. More like something massive was stomping towards them. Dean stared down and then at Lucifer, he'd heard that before, he knew exactly what that was. However, he wasn't sure if he was relieved or terrified over what was about to happen.
"And it begins…" stated Lucifer, grinning at Dean before walking out of sight to meet up with his forces.
**(whew…here we go. Thank you for reading, please leave me a review on your way out.)**
