Disclaimer: Don't own anything; this is for recreational purposes only.

Previously…

"Crowley, how did you do that? I mean," Sam gawped. "You just pulled your soul out. How is that even possible?"

"It's quiet simple really." Castiel interrupted in his usual monotonous tone. "Where Crowley has become a demon, his soul has been broken and damaged permanently, which therefore means that the 'packaging', if you will, has been broken as well. He can reach in and pull it out through the gaps."

"So like someone sat on a box of pies." Dean grinned. "That stuff gets everywhere."

Castiel considered this for a moment and then replied, "Yes I suppose you could say that."

"Well since we've got that sorted, perhaps you could tell us IF IT WORKED!" Crowley barked in frustration. "I shan't be a very happy bunny if I did all that for nothing."

"I imagine it did."

Crowley gawped and widened his eyes. For a minute he could not speak and was only able to utter incoherent noises. He then managed to regain his composure, asking coolly, "What do you mean you 'imagine'." A vein was pulsing against his temple.

Glimpsing nervously at Dean in hope of finding some support from him, he spluttered, "I mean that she looks as though she has improved. But I am unable to tell whether or not her grace is still damaged without my…" He trailed of sadly.

Taking pity on the fallen angel, Dean smiled softly and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey it's alright man. I guess we'll just have to wait until she wakes up." Dean squeezed Castiel's shoulder and then let go, stepping away from him. Although no one said it, he could tell what they were all thinking. It all depended on if she did wake up, and at the moment both scenarios were becoming less desirable the more he thought about it. If she did wake, she might hold a grudge against him and Castiel for not listening to her and ultimately leading to her demise. And since he didn't want an angry full powered angel out to get them when his angel was practically human, he didn't favour their chances of getting out of that unscathed.

Then of course there was the possibility that she did not wake up, which was equally as bad. He'd have a dead angel on his hands, as well as Abbadon on his ass and the gates of heaven being bolted shut and all the angels walking the earth and being hunted and massacred by demons, and he couldn't do any of this alone. Once he had been confident in his ability to save the world, but now his shoulders had broken and he felt crushed by the weight.

Turning to the others and forcing a grin on his face, he clapped his hands together and said, "I'll take first watch. You go and get some shut eye." And he had been left alone, with an oblivious angel who might not awaken, nursing a beer and his darkening thoughts.

It had been three exceedingly long and torturous days and, to put it simply, Crowley had had enough. He would have quite happily leapt into the cage with Lucy and Michael, or better yet throw both the Winchesters in there, than have to endure another day in this God forsaken bunker.

It had seemed that everyone was on edge, more so than usual, and the gravity of their situation was beginning to take its toll. Both Sam and Dean spent most of their time pouring over countless books, trying desperately to find something that would tell them how to unlock the gates of Heaven (as well as a way to kill Abbadon and Dean's personal little mission of finding a way to reverse the effects of the trials and cure his little brother). Of course they were coming up with absolutely nothing, but Crowley had expected this to be the outcome.

And he could not forget about dear, sweet, utterly clueless Castiel. Honestly being human did not suit him and it was painfully obvious to all those around. For a creature that had lived for so long and watched over humanity since its birth, he really had no idea about their bodily functions and technicalities. The amount of times he went running (literally) to Dean with every new sensation or problems was quite astounding.

It had started a few hours after they had healed Naomi, and they were all sitting peacefully until Castiel's stomach had begun to grumble. This happened several more times and each time Castiel's scowl and his (as well as everyone else's) frustration had grown. In the end he turned and moaned to Dean, "I believe that my stomach is trying to communicate with me and appears to be very dissatisfied; however I am unable to decipher what it is saying. I am not familiar with the language of the stomach."

"It means you're hungry Cas; stomach growls and you feed it." And without looking up he shoved a large bowl of chips in his direction. Castiel then began to munch happily (and loudly) on them, finishing them within a matter of minutes, later going on to finish two more. He had continued to eat like an army resulting in numerous trips to purchase groceries and costing the boys a pretty penny. Well technically costing the government a pretty penny but that wasn't really the point as Dean so often pointed out.

On top of that was the hassle of 'Naomi Watch'. It had been decided that at least one of them should be there when she woke up, in case she freaked in the unfamiliar surroundings and levelled the place. Unfortunately, this meant that someone had to sit with her constantly to make sure that this did not happen. Double unfortunately, they still weren't confident about Castiel around Naomi, particularly alone, Sam was still barely able to lift his head up, so both of them where pardoned from duty. Dean occasionally watched, however he was completely run off his feet playing mother hen to Castiel and Sam, so it was no surprise that the bulk of 'Naomi Watch' fell down to Crowley; the only one who did not require sleep or food. A bottle of Craig however…

Massaging his temples with his fingers, he glanced at the face of the slumbering angel. He had to admit, and it almost killed him to, that she looked exceptionally beautiful and peaceful. In his all to brief time with her, he had never once seen her asleep (angels generally didn't sleep) and he had often scorned and mocked soppy human poets who wrote about the pure and innocent beauty of their slumbering loves, but sitting here now, observing how her fiery hair framed her face; the way her eyelids fluttering like butterfly's wings, and her soft lips were parted, puffing out small and almost inaudible breathes, he could begin to…

He cut of his thoughts abruptly, shaking his head vigorously in an attempt to remove them from his brain. What was happening to him? He was the king of Hell for crying out loud. He should not be having soppy thoughts about an angel, one who he had past relations with at any rate. Once he had eliminated Abbadon, and was safely back in the realms of his kingdom, he would make sure those Winchesters would pay for what they did to him. Oh the fun he'd have, starting with…

"Crowley."

Tensing up with irritation, Crowley closed his eyes to try and regain some of his non-existent patience, and rumbled, "Yes Castiel."

"I was wondering, since Dean is asleep and I don't want to disturb him," Of course you don't. "I was wondering how I would go about preparing this microwavable burger.

Crowley had to grip the arms of his chair to prevent himself from face-palming himself. Repeatedly. "Well my little unfeathered friend," he replied without bothering to turn to face him. "Firstly you take the burger out of the packaging and put it on a plate. Then you put it in the microwave, set the timer to the recommended time, punch the start button and you're away!"

He heard Castiel mutter his thanks, and shuffle towards the kitchen area. Seconds later he could hear him rattling around, no doubt looking for the microwave, and rolled his eyes, turning to look back at Naomi. He all but leapt out of his chair when he saw staring back at him where two clear, crystal blue eyes.

Neither moved for what seemed like hours, then Naomi flipped herself off the table, her hair flying wildly around her face, stumbling slightly. She narrowed her eyes at him and bared her teeth. "What am I doing here? What do you want, cockroach?"

Crowley remained calm and impassive, having regained his composure, and replied, "It's nice to see you're awake, love. Thought you weren't going to make it for a moment there." He smirked at her in a way he knew irked her. "And you're welcome by the way. If I hadn't stepped in, you would be trapped with a bunch of other demons, who I can assure you are nowhere near as charming and civilised as I am."

She growled and narrowed her eyes further until they were slits. "You could never be described as charming or civilised. And I'd prefer any other demon's company to yours."

He staggered backwards and feigned being stabbed in the heart. "You wound me darling. I remember a time when you couldn't get enough of my company. The risks you used to take to get your hands on me. I remember that time when…" Suddenly Naomi lunged at him, making a grab for his throat, however she was still weak, and her movements were slow and sluggish, meaning he was able to grab her hand and fight of her attack with relative ease.

With blinding speed, he twirled her around so that her chest was pressed against his and her arms were locked behind her back; their faces inches apart. "Let go of me, you abomination!"

"Sorry, no can do love." He spoke louder than normal, hoping to attract the attention of one of the other occupants of the bunker. "Not until you calm down and are willing to listen to what we have to say."

"We?" Before Naomi could say anymore, there was a grunt from the doorway and a heavy-eyed Dean Winchester shuffled into the room. "The hell Crowley!" He scowled grouchily. "You trying to make an earthquake."

"Not this time Dean." He looked at Naomi with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We've come close before though." If he hadn't been watching her closely, he would have missed the corner of her mouth quirk up in a small smile.

Noticing her for the first time since he'd entered, Dean snapped out of his tiredness and was instantly on guard. "You're awake. How long for?" He directed the last part at Crowley.

"About five minutes."

Dean nodded, and an awkward silence descended over the trio. He looked from Crowley to Naomi several times, giving them a weird look. He was about to say something when there was a loud blast that came from the kitchen. "Jesus Christ." Dean muttered and ran off towards the sound of the commotion. Once he was gone, Naomi looked Crowley, her eyebrow slightly raised with curiosity. "Crowley what am I doing here? What is going on?"

He sighed and shook his head, tightening his arms around her, to which she no longer tried struggled free from. "As much as I'd love to tell you, I think we best wait for the Winchesters. They'll be able to tell you more about their great plans than I will." Feeling like she wasn't going to try and rip his throat out anymore, he gingerly let go of her and stepped back, feeling slightly confused and the sudden coldness and loss he felt.

They both turned to watch as Dean re-entered the room, grumbling to himself. He was stopped in his tracks when Naomi questioned what the upheaval had been about. "Castiel," he grumbled, scowling at Crowley's smirking face. "He put a metal plate in the microwave and the thing exploded."

"Castiel is here?" Her voice was a mix between surprise, fear and dread.

"Yeah." Instantly defensive to save his boyfriends honour. "Look, we need to talk."

"I'm inclined to agree with you on that point." Naomi said, nodding with agreement.

Dean pursed his lips, his face grave. "I'm gonna go wake Sam, if that didn't wake him. And then we're all gonna have a little chat."

Well I finished that chapter much more quickly than I expected. It's a little different to how I had planned it, but who knows where these things will end up. So next chapter they will definitely start to form a plan, and we also find a little more out about Naomi and Crowley's past.

Please leave me a review and thank you for reading my story so far.