The Show Can't Go On

The plane landed and Crowley's crew immediately began unloading several boxes of equipment. Crowley was busy as well issuing orders on his cell, the bustle of activity increasing the more that he shouted. He gave an exasperated sigh and hung up as Dean and Castiel came walking up.

"I hope they get that straight," he grunted. "It would be really embarrassing if we mistakenly send a truckful of hacking and electronic equipment directly to the network station. Might tip them off a bit."

Dean shrugged. "Ask me, it's a pretty sweet setup. You give a few orders and the worker bees do all the heavy lifting."

Crowley looked around and gave Dean a pained expression. "Yeah, well, that's the trouble with minions, you know?" He looked around conspiratorially and crooked his finger for Dean to come closer. "The real truth is," Crowley started whispering as Dean got in range, "they'll do their appointed tasks as long I'm watching carefully. Very carefully." At this he pointed secretly at one of the demons unloading crates. "Take Vincent there, for example. Now, Vincent will do his job, but the very second that I take my watchful gaze off of him, he will, quite literally, do whatever it takes to 'move up the corporate ladder', so to say. Which means up to and including driving a sharp and pointy dagger into his nearest superiors' back. My own included." He smiled genially at Vincent, who smiled back and returned to his work. Crowley rolled his eyes back at Dean. "Now, tell me, does that sound like a 'sweet setup' to you?"

Castiel grimaced. "Demons. What did you expect, Crowley?"

Crowley frowned and shot Castiel a pained expression. "Ah yes", he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets, "Because Angels are so renowned for their loyalty and lack of ambition. Do recall, there choir-boy, it was one of your kind that created us Demons in the first place."

Castiel looked away. "There are always...exceptions, Crowley," he answered.

Crowley smiled tightly. "With Demons as well, Castiel. Justin, for example. You've met him, right?" he asked, looking at Dean, who nodded silently in agreement. "Now Justin is more than happy to stay put and follow his orders. Very angelic of him, you could say." Castiel glared. Crowley held up a palm and shook his head. "Now, now Castiel, I'm not trying to take the steam out of you, I promise. Just don't dismiss us 'Demons' so quickly next time. That's all I'm asking."

Castiel stared at him for a few seconds and finally nodded back. "I'll.. ..consider it," he grumbled and walked away.

Dean's raised his eyebrows, forehead crinkling. "Little harsh on the Angel, there, Crowley, don'tcha think?" he asked quietly.

Crowley let out a puff of air. "Yeah, well, you know how we Demons love to go on and on, Squirrel. It comes from being looked down upon so much, you know. It's like everyone believes that all we are capable of is mayhem and destruction."

Dean squinted doubtfully at him. "Isn't that actually true?"

Crowley smiled back. "Mostly, yes. Point taken." He sighed and moved over to a group of Demons that were standing around under the plane. He began angrily gesturing at some boxes that hadn't been unloaded yet, and they sprang into action. Sam walked out of the plane towards Dean, looking around at the busy tarmac.

"Everything OK?" he asked as he came strolling up. Dean was watching Castiel , who had moved over to help load a utility van.

Dean looked up at Sam. "Yeah, I guess so," he answered, combing his hand over head. "Just...you know, a lot is riding on those two."

Sam nodded. "I know. Chuck's prophecy. They have to stop the entire universe from being taken away from God. Pretty big ask." He looked at Dean questioningly. "You think they can't do it?"

Dean sighed. "Dunno, Sammy. I just get the feeling that they'd rather be on separate sides of the planet rather than having to work together. It feels pretty toxic."

Sam smiled and clapped Dean on his shoulder. "Yeah, but you could say the same thing about us, and that never stopped us."

Dean smiled tightly back. "Yeah, well, maybe that wasn't always for the best, you know? How many times did we unleash the Apocalypse again?"

Sam frowned. "Seriously, are we going to have this discussion again?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I know. It would've been a hell of lot worse if we never tried. I know that. Maybe it's just that...I know where our heads are at. I mean, I know what our intentions are. Cas...I know he does his best to do the right thing too. Crowley, though...and the two of them together..."

Sam nodded slowly. "I know, Dean. But, this time we have no choice. Chuck said so. We take over and try to fix this ourselves, and the bad guys win."

Dean smiled thinly. "In Chuck we trust, huh?"

Sam smiled back and turned towards Crowley, who was walking over.

"All ready, boys?" Crowley asked, watching them. "Or are you formulating a new plan right now as I speak?"

Sam shook his head. "No, Crowley, it's your party. Tell us where you need us."

Crowley watched him for a second before giving a slight nod. "Allright then. Get in the van with Castiel. If I need you for Plan B, I'll call you." Sam and Dean nodded in agreement. Crowley nodded back. "Now then, it's time to get this show on the road."


Pastor Wald nodded in approval as his wife brought the steaming plate to the table in his plush dining room. He licked his lips at the sight of the juicy steak with mushroom sauce and potatoes. He eyed the vegetables in the corner of the plate warily, already making plans to push them even further into that corner.

He cut into his steak and took a bite, chewing slowly.

"Miriam," he exclaimed in satisfaction, "this time you have truly outdone yourself. Thank you, honey-bunch." He looked up at his wife sitting across from him at the table and frowned. She had a half-smile on her face and seemed to be in the middle of taking up a forkful of vegetables. But...she seemed to have stopped right there, not moving an inch.

"Miriam?", Pastor Wald asked, concerned. He rose out of his chair and moved over to her. She didn't answer, remaining frozen. He studied her face, watching for a sign of movement. She didn't even seem to breathe. He straightened up and wiped his face, noting the sweat that had begun to bead up on his forehead. He waved his hand rapidly in front of her eyes and took a step back when she didn't respond, placing his hand over his mouth. He looked around, panic rising in him. This had all the signs of having something to do with that Jesse Turner character. Strange things always seemed to happen whenever that little creep was around. He began to move around the table and noticed that the candle on the table had also stopped flickering. He bent closer, studying the still flame.

"Bit unnerving, isn't it?" came a voice from behind him that caused Pastor Wald to jump. A bearded man in a business suit was standing right behind him, also bent over and looking at the candle. He straightened up in mock surprise as Pastor Wald jumped and moved away from him.

"Some might call this the epitome of marital bliss, my good Pastor," the man continued, putting his hands in his pockets and pacing slowly around the table. "Maybe you should be thanking me."

Pastor Wald sat down heavily in his chair, sweat now pouring off of his reddened forehead. "What the hell you want...?" he finally stammered out. "Are you another friend of that angel or somethin'? Tell that SOB that I did everything he asked of me. Everything! Now, leave me the hell alone!"

The other man raised his eyebrows in response and sat down in an empty chair in the middle of the table. He propped his feet up rudely right on it and smiled evilly.

"Angel, huh?" he said finally, mock concern dripping from his voice. "Nothing in the world like Angel trouble, my good Pastor, believe me, I know." He held a hand over his heart in feigned pain and leaned forward a bit. "But no, I'm no friend of that Angel any more than you are. I'm here to actually help you out."

Pastor Wald's brow furrowed. "Help me...how?" He seemed to consider it for a few seconds before holding up his hands."No, you know what? I don't want no trouble with that little shit. Go on, get the hell out of here..."

The man swung his legs down and stood up, placing both hands on the table and leaned towards Pastor Wald.

"Should I just leave you here then with your little wax museum?" he asked, looking back at Miriam and around the still room. He stood up and shrugged. "Have it your way, then. Do have fun. It should wear off, I suppose...in a few thousand years or so..."

Pastor Wald looked around the room and sprang up from his chair. "Wait...wait!", he squealed. The man paused and smiled, looking back. Pastor Wald sat back down, sighing. "What...what can you do about them?"

The man sat back down and made a show of straightening the table cloth in front of him. "See? That's much better," he said, looking up at Pastor Wald. "Nothing like a little fear motivation to get things moving along. And I've always found, that there is nothing more frightening than an eternity of...well...nothingness."

Pastor Wald gulped heavily. "You gonna let me go then?"

The man steepled his fingers and leaned back. "Now, that is the 66 million dollar question, Pastor, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically. "That, actually, really all depends on if you are willing to hear me out or not."

Pastor Wald looked around again and nodded vigorously. "Fine, say our piece, just let me go..."

The man smiled in triumph. "Good. Now that the preliminaries are over, let's get to the meat of the matter, if you don't mind?" he asked, sliding Miriam's plate over to himself and cutting himself a piece of steak. He raised the fork to his mouth and closed his eyes. "Amazing, Pastor. Compliments, truly." He put down the utensils and met the Pastors' eyes. "My name, Pastor Wald, is Crowley. To make things quite clear, I'm a lot more powerful and potentially dangerous than your Angel friend. But that's just to help you keep things in perspective here and with your final decision." He shrugged. "I understand that you're a man at the center of a hurricane, Pastor Wald. One that you never asked for. I can help move that particular storm along for you, so to say."

Pastor Wald squinted at him. "How you plannin' on doing that?" he asked softly.

Crowley grinned. "I have a speech here, written for your sermon tomorrow night. My own rewrites, you could say. A much more truthful spin on recent events." He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a piece of folded paper. He opened it and slid it across the table to Pastor Wald, who took in up gently and began reading it. He began to turn white as he mouthed the words. A few minutes later he placed the speech back down on the table carefully, his hands shaking.

"Jesus...I mean, I had an idea...but..." he whispered.

Crowley nodded. "Yep. A lot to fathom, I gather. But that's the real deal, Pastor. That crest is the Mark of the Beast. And you are helping them destroy the world with it right now."

Pastor Wald groaned. "I...I...can't read that," he stammered out finally. "Do you have any idea what they'd do to me if I read that?"

Crowley nodded. "My good man, not much at all. Revealing the Mark for what it truly is will cut off Jesse from it's full power. And if the ratings never reach the goal they have in mind, they can't infect anyone else. We'll keep you safe, Pastor, on this you have my word."

Pastor Wald looked down at the speech on the table and picked it up again, his hands steadying. He looked up seriously at Crowley again, who was watching him closely. He began to nod in agreement.

"And you said you can protect me?" he asked finally.

Crowley nodded. "Absolutely, Pastor. I guarantee it."

There was a sudden rush of hot wind that blew out the stilled candles in the room and rattled the windows.

"And how do you propose to do that, Crowley, if you can't even protect yourself?" came a voice from the corner of the dining room as a teenager with blazing white eyes walked out of the shadows.

Crowley stood up quickly, moving in front of Pastor Wald, who had let out a small cry and stood up. Crowley held out a protective arm in front of him.

"Well well, well," Crowley growled. "Drew out one of the lions then, didn't I? I must admit, it had crossed my mind that that could happen, but I wasn't really counting on it."

The angel stepped forward menacingly. He sneered at Crowley. "What did you think, filth? That I wasn't going to keep a close eye on my investment here? That I would just let you twist and corrupt him against my will without stopping you?"

Crowley shrugged. "No, not really. Like I said, I wasn't counting on it, but that surely does not mean that I wasn't prepared for it." At that, a long, silver blade slid from his jacket sleeve. Crowley's eyes blazed briefly red.

The angel looked down warily at the blade and hesitated, taking a small step back.

The angel shook his head. "Doesn't matter, Demon," he growled. "I'm still going to rip you into shreds. And after that, that little speech of yours. That is never going to be read. Jesse is going to get his power, and there's nothing that you can do to stop it."

"Bring it," Crowley replied simply, the angel blade coming up in his hand. With his free hand, he edged Pastor Wald back towards the entrance to the dining room.

The angel shook his head. "Have it your way, Crowley." He raised an angel blade of his own and jumped onto the table, moving slowly across it towards them.

As the angel approached, Crowley caught a sudden movement from the entrance behind him. He quickly spun to the side as a blast of energy came from behind him and hit the table full force, blasting it into splinters. The angel tumbled to the ground in the wreckage, a cry of rage escaping his lips. Crowley stared up at the new threat. Jesse Turner was standing there, his hand smoking, a look of astonishment on his face. Crowley grabbed Pastor Wald's arm and dragged the large man to his feet. He let go and they both rushed past Jesse. Crowley fumbled for his cell phone with his free hand and speed dialed the van.

They were running down the hall, the sound of pursuit behind them as the other line picked up.

"Moose?," Crowley yelled into the line as another blast of energy smashed into a light fixture over their heads, erupting in a wall of sparks and fire. "Plan B, Moose! Yes, I said 'Plan B'! It's gone more than a little sideways here..." he continued, dragging Pastor Wald into a guest room and slamming the door behind him.

Pastor Wald looked around nervously. "We're trapped here!", he screamed. "They're coming!"

Crowley smiled calmly, hanging up his cell. "Looks that way Pastor. I am truly sorry. Best laid plans and all. My suggestion? Play nice with them. They still actually need you. As for me," he leaned in conspiratorially. "I'm afraid I must away, my dear Pastor. Thanks for the talk. And the steak."


Jesse blasted open the door and looked around the room. Pastor Wald was crouched down by a closet, shaking.

Jesse sighed and scanned the room for Crowley. No sign. The angel stood in the hallway behind him.

"Crowley?", the angel asked. Jesse shook his head slowly. The angel sighed. "Fine, get that up", he said pointing at Pastor Wald, "and take him to his office. Keep him safe until the sermon. I have a feeling that my brother and I need to find Crowley and his acquaintances past-haste. This 'Plan B' that he was screaming so loudly about is obviously some ill-conceived plan to sabotage the broadcast. We'll make sure that doesn't happen."

Jesse nodded and the angel disappeared. He moved into the room and picked up Pastor Wald, looking into his eyes. The Pastor had them squeezed shut.

"Jesse?", he asked meekly.

"Yes, it's me," Jesse replied, sighing. The Pastor cautiously opened one eye and scanned the room. "The angel?", he asked.

Jesse sighed loudly and began to walk Pastor Wald out of the house. "Going to go rip your new friends into little pieces, Pastor Wald", he said angrily. "I sincerely hope that you see who the truly righteous are now, don't you? I mean, that was a Demon back there that you were about to make a deal with."

The Pastor nodded quickly. "I know, Mr. Turner. Believe me, I know. Don't you worry now. I'll do the right thing."

Jesse turned him around and studied him carefully. "You make sure that you do, Pastor Wald," he said simply. "You make damned sure that you do."