Author's Note: Anyone curious to see what Crowley's up to? Well you've come to the right place! lol Before we begin though, I want to thank janiekm, TG, Hilanamerchuk, ncsupnatfan, reannablue, GuestJ, judyann, missingmikey, sarah, Zana Zira, mb64, Er-BearG32, StyxxsOmega, jojospn, AJTish, and 221BNB for their recent reviews and support. You guys just helped me reach over 100 reviews on my first multichapter! My gratitude is overwhelming right now. :o And thanks to every reader! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Robert woke slowly, awareness of his surroundings bleeding into his consciousness at the pace of molasses.
At first all he knew was a persistent throbbing in his skull and a steady ache radiating from his back and shoulders, but as the seconds ticked by and he was able to coax his eyelids to open, he became more acquainted with his situation.
He was in a dimly lit concrete building of some sort. It was vast and seemingly empty save for some cement support beams arranged throughout the building, and the chair in which Robert was sitting. The only source of light came from dusty windows lining the upper portion of the walls, through which Robert could see an early afternoon sky. He hadn't been out for too long then, apparently.
As he attempted to stretch his arms, Robert realized his hands were bound behind him with tight ropes. His torso was also tethered to his seat. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, and he shifted his weight around in an attempt to alleviate some of the strain on his tailbone, back, and shoulders.
As soon as he began to move, a voice from somewhere behind his line of vision said, "Ah. Awake at last, are we?"
Robert was certain it was the same voice he had heard back in his apartment before he had been knocked out. His suspicions were confirmed when the middle aged man in the tidy black suit he had seen at his home came strolling out into the open area in front of his chair.
"Who are you and what do you want?" Robert questioned directly, though he had a feeling the man in front of him wouldn't be giving any straight answers.
"Oh that's right! You don't know who I am. I almost forgot," The man commented with a smile resembling that of a hungry snake. "Well, allow me to do the introductions then. I'm the King of Hell," he said, pointing to himself. Then he turned his finger to point at Robert and added, "And you, Gigantor, are what is known as bait."
Robert glared at the man. "Bait for who?" he inquired flatly.
The man ignored Robert's question and pulled out a cellphone from his suit coat pocket. "If you'll excuse me, I think it's about time I made a call," he announced before dialing a few numbers and holding the cell to his ear.
"It's been a while Squirrel," he said after a beat. Robert could barely make out the voice of another man on the other end of the call, but he couldn't discern what it said. It was clear from the tone, however, that the recipient of the call was not pleased.
"Now really, when you use colorful language like that I'm tempted to keep him for myself. I think I'd be a better influence. And he's so easy to influence right now, wouldn't you agree?" The man in the suit said calmly, but he was smiling again.
The person on the other line's response only made the man's smile widen before he finally continued to speak, saying, "To answer your first question, yes. That's exactly what I want. Regarding your second inquiry..." the man paused and his face grew serious. "I have reason to believe you've located the rug-rat who's been evading me since his, shall we say, rambunctious departure from my guardianship…and a certain precious stone that I want back in my possession. So here's the offer."
The voice on the other end of the line started up again, but the man cut right over his words as if he didn't hear them. "I will trade you one haplessly befuddled Neanderthal in return for the school boy and his rock. I'll even promise that no harm will come to the lad. Well, no permanent harm, anyway…" the man was smirking again, eyes glinting dangerously. "So what do you say? Is it a deal?" he finally asked.
There was silence on the other end for a brief moment, and then one short word was uttered by the person on the phone.
"Splendid!" the man exclaimed cheerfully. "Then you'll meet me at 709 Birchland Avenue by midnight tonight for the exchange, or I slit Jolly Green's throat slowly."
The person on the end of the call began to protest loudly, but the man hung up the phone and suddenly the empty warehouse was eerily silent. Robert was staring at the man cautiously, all too aware that it was his own throat which had just been threatened. It wasn't hard to figure out, given the fact that he was the one tied up.
The man laughed and said, "Don't fret Moose. You can be sure he'll come for you."
OoO
Dean was staring at the unconscious Australian Sheppard in Sam's living room and panicking when his cellphone rang loudly from his pocket. The caller ID read '666', and he felt his heart rate pick up. He answered the call quickly and held the phone to his ear.
"It's been a while Squirrel," the voice on the phone said, and Dean instantly knew it belonged to Crowley. The unmistakable British accent of the King of Hell was a complete giveaway.
"Tell me where my brother is you sulfur-breathing bag of dicks," Dean growled into the cell, barely restraining the rage that bubbled within him.
"Now really, when you use colorful language like that I'm tempted to keep him for myself. I think I'd be a better influence. And he's so easy to influence right now, wouldn't you agree?" Crowley tossed back casually, but Dean understood immediately what the demon was hinting at. Crowley was confirming that knew the details about Sam's memory loss, and he was threatening to manipulate Sam's mind while he was vulnerable, unless Dean did whatever it was he wanted.
The thing that really interested Dean was when Crowley said "keep him for myself". The phrase implied that the demon intended to give Sam up if Dean cooperated. Of course, Dean wasn't foolish enough to trust that Crowley really meant to do that, but he still felt there was something he was missing. For example, what did he have that Crowley might be looking to exchange Sam for? Or pretend to exchange him for, anyway.
"You're saying you want to do a trade, right?" Dean asked, the level of wrath in his gut still rising. "Well, for what then? What do you want?"
"To answer your first question, yes. That's exactly what I want. Regarding your second inquiry...I have reason to believe you've located the rug-rat who's been evading me since his, shall we say, rambunctious departure from my guardianship…and a certain precious stone that I want back in my possession. So here's the offer," The King of Hell responded smoothly, and Dean felt his stomach lurch.
Any hope Dean had clung to that Crowley didn't know about Kevin evaporated immediately. With his penchant for disaster, Dean had sort of been mentally preparing himself for something like this. But he'd also been wanting to believe that it was just the tablet the King would be interested in, and not the prophet himself. He didn't want to involve Kevin in Sam's rescue if at all possible, but it seemed like luck was against him. Like always.
"You listen here you ego-inflated sack of-" Dean began angrily, but the demon paid him no attention and continued to speak as though Dean had said nothing at all.
"I will trade you one haplessly befuddled Neanderthal, in return for the school boy and his rock. I'll even promise that no harm will come to the lad. Well, no permanent harm, anyway…"
Dean's gut clenched at that. Bringing Kevin was officially a terrible idea. The kid would end up tortured for sure if anything went wrong, and really, when did everything go right?
"So what do you say? Is it a deal?" Crowley asked.
Dean was very quiet for a second, trying to think of any way to avoid agreeing to bring the young prophet, but there was no light bulb moment to save him.
"Yes," Dean finally ground out, guilt churning inside as he said the word.
"Splendid! Then you'll meet me at 709 Birchland Avenue by midnight tonight for the exchange, or I slit Jolly Green's throat slowly," the demon said nonchalantly.
"What? No! I need at least-" but the call disconnected, and Dean was left stumbling over his words to no one in particular.
OoO
"You did WHAT?" Kevin exclaimed as Dean explained the terms Crowley had set, and more importantly, the fact that he had agreed to them.
Dean rubbed his temple, having expected this sort of reaction from the boy. Dean had come straight back to the old church after his phone conversation with the demon, knowing that he would need to tell Kevin everything if he was to get the prophet to assist him in the upcoming meeting. Which was, in fairness to the kid, asking an awful lot. But Dean couldn't think about that when his brother's life was on the line. He'd just have to owe Kevin later, if the kid agreed to help.
"Calm down a sec Kevin! It's not like I'm actually planning on handing you over to the dickwad," Dean finally retorted, but his words did little to appease the flustered prophet standing in front of him.
"Dean, you realize now you have to walk me and the tablet right up to Crowley in order to get close enough to get Sam back, and do you know what that means?" Kevin asked, his voice quavering ever so slightly with nerves.
"Yeah, I get that it's a risky move for all of us, Kev. But I swear I'm not letting that asshat bag and drag you again," Dean insisted.
"That's not the only part I'm worried about Dean. Do you know how badly things could go if he gets a hold of me and that tablet?" Kevin said, and the hunter paused. He took a moment to really examine the kid before him, and what he saw surprised him.
Kevin was disheveled looking as ever, still with dark circles under his eyes from restless nights, and still a bit thinner than he should be. But suddenly the thought occurred to Dean that he'd had the reason for the kid's insomnia and self-inflicted malnourishment wrong for a while. All this time he'd been assuming Kevin was terrified of Crowley getting a hold of him again, since he knew he'd be punished for having run away, and so the boy had to be stressing about that all the time. That's why he thought Kevin had been so upset when Dean wanted to stay in Sam's area instead of going to ground. That was what he'd automatically assumed would be the boy's reason for not wanting Dean to bring him along for the trade-off with the King of Hell later…
But that wasn't the bigger issue.
Sure, the prophet was frightened of ending up as the demon's tinker toy. Kevin wasn't a fool and he knew that Crowley would not let his previous escapade go unavenged. But at the core of the situation was a sense of duty to protect the tablet, and suddenly Dean understood that Kevin wasn't just scared of what would be done to him…
He was scared of what he would do.
"Dean, if something goes wrong and he comes out on top, then everything is screwed. Because I don't think I can…" Kevin's voice trailed off, but Dean heard the unspoken half of the sentence cloud and clear.
Because I don't think I can hold out if he starts torturing me for information.
This whole time Kevin had been worried that Crowley would catch them and he would spill the beans on the tablet translations because he didn't trust himself to withstand the kind of…persuasion that the King of Hell would use.
"Kevin, it's not going to come to that. I'm not gonna let him get you. Trust me, ok?" Dean said, placing a firm hand on Kevin's shoulder and squeezing once to emphasize his point. The kid continued to look embarrassed, and Dean realized the prophet was actually ashamed of himself- feeling guilt for lacking confidence in his strength to not crack under that kind of pressure.
"Hey, you told me that night we met up here that you're not trained to fight demons, and that part of things would be on me. Remember?" Dean asked, and Kevin nodded mutely.
"Well, no one blames you for not being ready to get strapped to a rack either, ok? But I'm not gonna let it come to that. I'm going to make sure you get through this in one piece. You and Sam. Because I'm tired of these smoky douchebags messing with my family, you hear me?" Dean delivered his words all while looking the younger man directly in the eye, and when he was done he could see that they'd had the desired effect. Kevin no longer appeared as guilty, but instead had a spark of determination in his gaze.
"So then what's the plan?" Kevin finally asked, his voice more steady. "I tricked Crowley once, but that only makes it harder for us this time. He'll be expecting us to pull something again, and he'll be extra careful."
Dean's eyes swept the surrounding area of the church's main room, hoping for a plan to suddenly strike him. Just as he was about to tell Kevin he needed a minute to think on it, he noticed a pile of rubble near the back corner of the room where a section of the ancient stone wall was crumbling.
"We're going to hand him a tablet," Dean said with a smirk.
OoO
The next several hours went by in a blur as Dean and Kevin worked non-stop preparing everything they would need to stand a chance in the coming confrontation.
The hunter readied their weapons, filling several bottles with fresh holy water. One of the perks of being in the old church was having easy access to the stuff. Any water on the grounds was sanctified, and there was a pond in the yard behind the church that had probably once been a small garden, but was now an overgrown jungle of weeds. He also sharpened the blade that he still carried from Purgatory, drawing comfort from the idea of holding something so familiar in his hand for a battle. And of course, he worked on re-learning a useful exorcism ritual that Kevin had written down for him. He hadn't needed to use his Latin in a while, since there were no demons in the monster land he'd spent most of the past year, and he wanted to refresh his memory. While Dean prepared their defense, Kevin focused his efforts on readying their bargaining chip.
He spent the prep time creating a fake demon tablet to hand off to Crowley.
Dean had helped him find a slab of stone from the rubble pile inside the church that was roughly the same size and color as the demon tablet. Then it was the simple matter of letting Kevin put enough chicken scratches on the rock to give it a passable appearance. Kevin used real symbols to make it look extra authentic, but assured Dean he was not copying the actual words from the demon tablet. He was apparently writing his own version of things, and so far it was looking workable.
By the time the home-made tablet was complete, Dean had several bottles of holy water ready for both of them, a razor sharp stone blade, and was ready to exorcise whatever came his way. Both men felt as prepared as they could be, given the unfortunate odds they were facing.
"We should go," Dean finally said as the sun started to go down.
"It's only 8pm. I thought he said midnight," Kevin pointed out, but Dean hefted the bag of their tools over his shoulder and began walking toward the exit anyway.
"He said 'by midnight', and I don't want to take any chances on him getting impatient. Besides, we gotta make a stop at Sam's place first," Dean replied calmly.
Kevin didn't question and just followed Dean out of the church to the old, rusted Toyota Corolla he was still using. They drove over to Sam's apartment, which was unlocked, just as Dean had left it. The only difference was that this time he was greeted by a frantic, barking dog when he stepped inside.
"Hey! Calm down Dean! We're friends!" Dean the Human shouted at Dean the Dog, trying to get the creature to back off. Even though it had been several years since he had been killed by Hellhounds, Dean was in no way fond of large dogs running at him.
Luckily for him, Dean the Dog seemed to trust him. The animal quickly stopped barking and began whining loudly instead, running back and forth between Dean the Human and the damaged wall where Sam had likely been seen last. The dog was clearly beside himself with worry for his owner.
"Hey, it's ok Dean," Dean the Human said again, this time more gently. "We're gonna get him back."
Kevin, who had been standing in the background looking confused during the entire exchange, finally spoke up with an incredulous, "Uh, why are you talking in third person?"
"I'm not. The dog's name is Dean," the hunter explained gruffly.
"He named his dog after you?" Kevin looked amused as he said it. Dean only glared at the prophet in response, and the kid wisely chose to drop the subject. Instead he asked, "So why are we here?"
"To get something important," Dean replied absently, searching all over the living room. He found nothing in the front room, so he headed down the hall into the kitchen. "Yahtzee!" He exclaimed when he found the little silver keys he'd been searching for sitting on the kitchen counter. He carried them out to Kevin with a broad smile on his face.
"If we're going up against the King of Hell, then we're riding there in style," Dean said proudly.
He then led the prophet out of the apartment, locking the door behind him with one of the other keys on Sam's key-ring. It was a force of habit, really, to lock a door behind him. That, and he figured Sam would want his dog to be kept safe in the apartment for when they got back.
If they got back.
Dean pushed that negative thought aside as he walked up to his beautiful black Impala, still parked out front without a scratch on her. He unlocked the driver's door and slid into the front seat, hands gripping the steering wheel with delicate adoration as Kevin climbed into the passenger seat next to him.
"Oh Baby, it has been way too long," Dean spoke to his vehicle with an affectionate tone that made Kevin ask if the two of them wanted to get a room. Dean shot him another glare before turning the key in the ignition and listening to his precious car rumble to life.
He experienced a boost in confidence sitting behind the wheel of the Impala, and as he pulled out of the apartment complex's parking lot, he felt like they actually stood a chance at pulling one over on the King of Hell.
Secondary Author's Note: Thanks for reading! So Crowley, am I right? lol Here's to hoping Dean and Kevin can somehow manage to come out on top in the coming confrontation, because there is a LOT riding on their success. :P If you have a moment, please do leave feedback. It's the most wonderful thing ever. :D
Special Note to GuestJ: It's totally acceptable to be excited about Crowley's appearance! He's the villain we all love to hate and hate to love, I think. ;) Oh, and my dog's name is Frisker. He's a big 'ol mutt (possibly German Shepherd and Great Dane mix, but I don't know for certain since he's a pound puppy) and he is my dog-child. lol He's also doing much better today than he was on Friday. Thank you for the well-wishes! :D
