Title: Heaven's Intentions

Author: ColorMeContented

Disclaimer: Supernatural and pretty much everything here belong to their respective owners. All I have is the one OC and plot.

Rating: M for mature audiences only

Warnings: Fluff, booze, possible eventual slash, swearing, blasphemy and the like, violence and emotional distress, possible spoilers if you aren't up to date with season 9… I think that's all?

Author's note: I am a huge Crowley fan, seeing as how Mark Sheppard is cute as a frickin' button, so I hope he kicks Abbadon's ass in the show and gets Hell back. Long live the king!

Chapter eight: Long Live the King

"I'm assuming you don't mean evangelism?" Sam asked, still not quite understanding why having every soul go to Heaven was a bad thing. He had been to Hell as had his brother. It was not a nice place by any means but seeing as how all the (ex) Angels in the room looked so grave and serious Sam could figure that at least, yes, this was a bad thing.

"No Sam, Bartholomew's organization was formed by a group of Angels who are tired of fighting. They tire of Prophets and monsters and demons and protecting this world." Castiel scooted closer to Dean in search of comfort. Dean grabbed up Cas' hand under the table immediately.

"They plan to storm Earth once they've got the majority of Angels on their side and take the souls by force."

"They wanna kill everyone…" Dean breathed, "What the Hell?"

"Yes," Gadreel added, "Our brothers are misguided; they believe that by cleaning this planet of every soul they can rest. But our brothers have not taken into account how horrible our existence would be without purpose."

Gadreel looked down sadly, "This is why Bartholomew has taken to killing Prophets."

"No, that doesn't explain a thing." Sam said, "Why should they want to kill Dean?"

Gadreel raised an eyebrow at Sam who shied away from the old Angel's gaze ever-so-slightly.

"Because your brother and any other Prophet chosen outside the list that every Angel knows is the key to stopping Bartholomew." Gadreel picked up Cecilia, "This little one knows the formula to seal the Angels in Heaven and you, Dean Winchester, are the only person on, above, or below the Earth who can speak to her."

"Close the gates of Heaven?" Dean was dumbfounded, happy, but dumbfounded. He could finally send all those halos back where they belonged and they could just leave him the Hell alone!

Dean grinned across the table at Cecilia and Gadreel and leaned forward.

"When do we start?"

"Not quite yet boys." The whole room turned in their seats, immediately reaching for Angel blades and guns as Crowley stood across the room, hands in his pockets, grin on his face.

"Hallo moose, squirrel, various sexy Angel folk."

Dean stood and moved to stand protectively in front of Sam and Castiel.

"How the Hell did you get in here?!" he bellowed.

The King of Hell shrugged and moved forward to calmly take a seat next to Gadreel and Cecilia.

"Pish-posh, I wouldn't be a king worth my salt if I couldn't do this much now would I moose?" he turned to Gadreel and extended a hand and a smile.

"Gadreel, the Angel who let my daddy into Eden, big fan." Gadreel refused to look at the demon or acknowledge his presence; Crowley retracted his hand and turned back to Sam Dean and Castiel who all had their weapons at the ready. "Well then, all business as usual I suppose?"

Sam frowned, "What do you want Crowley?"

"Truth is, I've been hearing about your little conundrum through the grapevine and thought you might like to know why my treasury had your oh so rare Angel tablet." Crowley nodded towards Cecilia, she stuck her tongue out at him, "and for a time this little truffle as well."

"Why should we believe you?" Castiel growled, his grip on his blade tightened when Crowley leaned across the table.

"Believe it or not," he said, throwing sideways glances at Sam and Dean, "I am on your side Castiel."

"Unlikely." Gadreel snapped, allowing himself one glance at the supernatural being he detested before resuming his statuesque façade.

"Of course," Crowley rolled his eyes, "Because I would love for the Angels to take away every human soul and lock them up where I can't get to them. I am assisting you to protect my own interests, but help is help."

He turned up his hands, "Do you want to know or do you not?"

"We wanna know." Dean laid his gun on the table and Sam followed suit.

"Attaboy moose, remind me to give you a cookie later," Crowley grinned, "As it turns out Angels can play the dirty cop when it suits them just as well as the rest of us. Your little brother Bartholomew had been making deals with Azazel for years to hide his spoils from Heaven. And when his Rit Zein offed Kevin he had the tablet hidden there as well."

"Now if you were to make it abundantly clear to Barty's boss that he was being a bad baby…"

"Bartholomew has no boss." Castiel interrupted, "At the moment he is the leader of Heaven."

"Oh Castiel," Crowly cooed, clicking his tongue, "Everybody has a boss. All you've got to do is find his office."

"Are you suggesting that we tell on Bartholomew to God?" Dean asked in disbelief, "Why the fuck would He listen to us? He never has before."

"Oh my Satan," Crowley slapped his forehead in irritation, "Have you any idea how ironic it is for me to understand this rather than you meatheads? God hasn't been ignoring you, if anything He's been hanging on every word coming out of your sniveling mouths. Can you even imagine how many times you would have died had he not flipped a switch to help you out? God doesn't ignore his favorites boys, you just need to know how to ask correctly." And with that Crowley was gone.

Dean blinked at the King of Hell's sudden disappearance, stunned. "You think we can trust him?"

"I don't think we have a choice Dean." Sam frowned and shook his head. "No one else is stepping up to the plate and there are no manuals about this sort of thing."

Castiel pouted, "I do not like this idea."

"Of course you don't," Dean sighed, "but unless you want to go back up to Heaven we have no other leads." Castiel and Gadreel visibly stiffened at the suggestion. "Right."

Dean stood and glanced at his watch then at Gadreel. "Well, I guess you're staying then." He jabbed a thumb towards his brother, "You'll be staying with Sam."

"What? Why?" Sam complained.

"Because Cas' and Cecilia already staying with me and that guy needs someone to keep an eye on him and keep him from wandering around." Dean took Cas by the arm and Cecilia's book in his hand and started towards the hall, calling over his shoulder, "Don't forget to pray to God Sammy, g'night!"

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Sam stood awkwardly at his bedside with Gadreel.

"Do you sleep?"

"No."

"Oh." Sam mentally punched himself. Great, now he was going to be 'watched over' by Heaven's most wanted while he slept.

"Samuel?" Gadreel asked.

"Sam."

"Sam," Sam could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile tug at the corners of the Angel's mouth. "what is it like? Being human?"

Sam was somewhat taken aback by the question. He sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him, guiding Gadreel to do the same.

"It's difficult. Humans have to deal with a lot of distractions that Angels don't have to like eating and using the bathroom." Sam paused momentarily and looked up to see Gadreel looking on expectantly, "But there are nice things too, like sugar and a sense of accomplishment when you do something right… and love."

Sam stopped again, noticing that Gadreel had leaned in close so that there was less than a foot between them. A blush rose on Sam's cheeks, this sort of thing had not happened to him since the last time he'd seen Gabriel.

Sam's mood darkened at the thought of his past love only to be lightened again upon feeling the light puff of Gadreel's breath on his face.

"Angels are capable of all of these things… do you suppose that I could sleep if I made an effort?"

"Y-yes?" Sam breathed.

Gadreel smiled marginally and crawled past Sam to the other side of the bed where he lay on his back, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling.

Sam shook his head, "No dude, that's all wrong. One, you don't sleep with your clothes on; two, you get under the sheets; and three, you gotta relax man."

Gadreel nodded once, got up, and began to strip, each article of clothing folded neatly and stacked on the closer of Sam's two nightstands. Sam threw his hands in front of his face when Gadreel gripped the waistband of his boxers.

"Underwear on!" Sam cried.

"But you said –" Gadreel began.

"Forget what I said," Sam chocked on another blush brought on by the man's toned body and smooth quiet voice, "house rules, all parties must sleep in their underwear."

Gadreel nodded again and crawled beneath the covers as Sam undressed and followed suit. The old Angel rolled to his stomach and turned his head to look at Sam as he turned off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness.

"Sam." Gadreel paused a moment as though he were embarrassed, "How do I sleep?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Close your eyes," Gadreel obeyed, "now relax every muscle in your body starting with the top of your head all the way to your toes."

Gadreel groaned as he let his stiff vessel relax into the mattress and yawned as tiredness began to overtake him.

"Thank you Sam," he said as his eyes drooped. "I will pray for you to my Father as I sleep." Then he was out.

Sam rolled onto his side, trying to not be pulled into the old Angel's strange gravitational pull.

"Yea man," he mumbled as sleep claimed him as well, "no problem."