Part VIII
John kept his hand firmly gripped around the handle of his hunting knife, and locked eyes with the Demon, who smirked at the evidently stoic expression on the hunters face. He moved one step closer, almost provocatively, bating the older man in to challenging him.
"What? No cuppa tea?...now John, you know there's nothin' I like more than a nice cuppa tea with my favourite Winchester."
"Go to hell." John snarled.
"That hurts. It really does. Guess I'll skip straight to it then. I came here, to discuss your boy…"
"I kept my word. I gave you Sam. Now, you mind telling me exactly what it is you…"
"Oh, no no no, John, not Sam. It's Dean I'm here to discuss. You see, you've been holding up here now for what? A week? And so far I see very little sign of that kid having any desire to help you with our little…task…I mean, would you wanna help you John? After what you did to him? Taking Sam away was a very risky move, even for you…but… handin' him over to a Demon for safe keeping? That's a brand new low am I right? I bet Dean's already vying for your blood"
John's gaze fell to the floor and he shifted nervously.
"Ohh, I see. Dean doesn't know. What's up John, not got the balls? Funny that…cos you seemed to have hold of em' last week when you handed Sam over…or is it just the part about admitting all this to Dean you're struggling with? Perhaps I can help you out there…"
Crowley moved towards the locked door, but John raised an arm to stop him.
"No. Don't. I'll tell him, I will. Just not today. He's missin' his brother…"
Crowley turned on a mocking pout.
"bless…hang on I'll just fetch my violin…I don't care very much for wallowing… Never did as it happens…and especially not when it's affecting the performance of my…employees. Sort it John, or I will. You've got a day."
John nodded, sighing remorsefully before tempting the question. Scared to death of the answer it would bring.
"Is…is Sam okay?"
Crowley nodded musingly and took a few steps towards the kitchen, brushing his finger across the frame of a large picture hanging by his head. He held his hand up towards John, revealing the dust track left behind and grimaced, totally avoiding a verbal response to the question. For now, anything to keep the old hunter on edge for just a little longer satisfied him immensely.
"tutt-tutt. Not exactly a domestic goddess is he old Singer? Never heard of a duster?"
"Crowley!…Sam, how is he?"
"I don't know…you Winchesters. One minute you're sacrificing your lives to save each other, the next, daddy dearest is handing his youngest over to a Demon…well, King of Hell…actually, if we wanna be precise."
"Answer me dammit." John growled, anger hitching up his voice as he glared viciously over at Crowley's derisive, evil form, still hovering by the kitchen.
Crowley chuckled with bemusement and propped himself against the wall, folding his arms across his chest.
"Sam? You ask. Oh… he's just dandy…havin' a whale of a time infact…made some new friends too by all accounts. And they just love him, been a while since they've had something to play with."
John's face contorted with fury, and his snarl deepened.
"You evil son-of-a…"
"Careful Johnny" Crowley interrupted, eyes narrowing coldly as he stood upright, pulling away from the wall. He took a few quick, short steps over towards John until he was almost nose to nose with the hunter. Well, nose to chin, if we want to be precise.
"You wouldn't want me backing out of our little…contract? Is that what we're callin it?"
"You can't…we agreed…" John gaped, eyes wide with fear.
"Hello?...Demon!" Crowley mocked, raising his hands in gesture to himself. "Look Winchester. Just…hold up your end, do what I want, and I 'll hold up mine…oh and er, John? mind the way you speak to me in future…get's me all uptight. And trust me, you really don'twant that."
"Y'know…Dean's gonna rip you apart when this is all over…"
And Crowley's implied smirk confirmed to John his own worst nightmare.
"Sorry is that …before…or after he slices you open? Cos my God Winchester, even I'd be slightly concerned if I were you. No, I would most definitely not like to be you when Dean finds out what you've really done with his brother…handin' him over to a Demon…just like that?. Tutt-tutt Johnny."
" You gave me no choice…"
" Oh you had a choice John. Let's not kid ourselves. You didn't have to accept my offer…but you did. And that means Sam- belongs- to- me…temporarily of course. To be honest, I don't have much time for the little retard...he's a bit of an…inconvenience. But then you'd know all about that wouldn't you John…eh? Little Sammy gettin' his own way with Dean all time? Cos Dean's always cared about him just a little bit more than he has you, hasn't he?..."
"…and maybe, if he cares too much about Sam…well, who'll be your good little soldier boy then?"
John was still listening, albeit deceptively so as he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the ground, staring in to the empty space, trying to numb the pounding to his heart with every- single- fucking- word.
Demon's lie. He knew that. But sometimes, they tell the truth.
The sudden and unexpected silence made him look up.
Crowley was gone.
He glanced around cautiously, wanting to be absolutely sure.
Nothing.
Satisfied that he was alone once again, he grabbed the half empty bottle of whisky, and started towards the stairs, fully intent on drinking himself in to a guilty stupor. Dean would be out cold until late morning, he'd be functional again by then, and hopefully be able to muster the courage to tell his son exactly what it was he'd done…and why.
He was sure Dean would understand, once John told him. Explained to him why he'd done it. He knew he would. He'd tell him that once it was over, Crowley had promised to return Sam. Dean would understand. Right?
But as he turned to head up the stairs, he was inexplicably knocked off balance when a large, angry fist connected hard with his face, catching him square on the jaw.
He stumbled a little, but didn't fall down, and looked up at his attacker, half expecting to see Dean glaring back at him.
"B…Bobby?" he spluttered. "What the hell?..."
Bobby glowered furiously at the other hunter, and lunged towards him, hands gripping at his throat as he pinned him angrily to the wall.
"What have you done? What in the hell have you done John?...yeah you bastard, I heard every word…"
"Bobby…" John choked, pushing at the older man, hoping that he would recoil enough to let him explain.
"Bobby…I had to…you don't understand…it's Mary…"
Bobby's expression altered, and his iron grip subsided momentarily, allowing the man to catch his breath.
John sucked in at the air greedily and repeated,
"It's Mary…Bobby, he promised me Mary."
...
* Hi all, thanks so much for your reviews and messages. I hope you are enjoying it so far. I think ive got Crowley down in this chapter, I could almost hear him speaking as I was writing :) Try and imagine a cockney British accent while you read it should help lol. x
