Chapter 9

Sam and Dean stared at Crowley in open astonishment.

"What?" Crowley asked, shrugging his shoulders defensively.

"Dude, do you think you can skip any and all future make-out sessions that you're involved in?" Sam asked with mild disgust.

"I second that," Dean agreed, raising a finger in the air to emphasize the point.

"There's nothing wrong with adding a little flare to a good story-telling, darlings."

"Okay, well, just leave out all of the 'flare' from now on, alright?" Dean all but demanded, while suppressing a shudder. He did not want to imagine Crowley locking lips with some long-dead assbutt (as Cas would have put it).

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Crowley said, "Alright," while waving a dismissive hand.

"Wait," Sam said, before Crowley could continue his story. "Did you even tell the guy that he would only have ten years?"

"Actually, no. It didn't exactly come up." He took another sip of his drink.

Sam scoffed. "Well don't you think it would have been some valuable info for the guy to know?"

"Who the hell cares, Sammy? The guy was a major d-bag!"

"Well, yeah, with a capital D; but isn't that part of the deal? You gotta tell 'em what they're signing up for."

"Actually, no," Crowley reiterated. "Telling a sap about the Ten-Year Clause is purely altruistic on the part of the demon."

"There ya go, Sammy. A legal term for the law student," Dean chuckled. Sam just shot his brother an angry look, but didn't say anything. "Alright, Crowley. So where's this never-ending story going?"

"I'm getting there, Darling."

"Alright, well, hurry it the hell up." Dean's already-paper-thin patience was wearing even thinner.

Without further preamble, much to the relief of the Winchesters, Crowley continued his tale.


No more pussy-footing around. You know it was me, so I'll speak plainly.

I was interested in Archie, so I decided to... escort him home. Without him knowing, of course. He was limping heavily, and I could tell he was thinking he should have also had me fix his leg in the deal; but oh well. He made his way up to the front stoop of his home. He could hear the sounds of his younger children laughing and his older children talking. His boys were usually home by this time. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but they were most likely discussing the day's events: how much they had earned, what needed to be done tomorrow, how Mama almost killed Papa. You know, the usual. Whatever they were discussing, they seemed to be very excited about it.

He hesitated before opening the door. What if it hadn't worked? Would he walk in and be blown away by his disgruntled wife? Fear kept him from opening the door while he tried and failed to find the courage to enter. He was debating on whether he should just leave instead of risking death, but the choice was taken from him as the front door was yanked open and his Gertie was standing on the other side with a wide grin on her face.

"Archie! You finally made it!" She reached for him, taking her husband in her arms, ignoring his visible flinch when she embraced him. He quickly recovered and hugged her back before she pulled away to drag him inside, chattering excitedly the whole time. "You'll never believe what happened, Archie, dear! You know how little Clara likes to dig in the dirt outside – I know, dear I know – 'the dirt is no place for a girl to play,'" Gertrude recited her husband's usual lecture when she saw the look of distaste on his face at the mention of his daughter's usual antics. "But I think you'll feel a little differently about it this time!"

During her jabbering, his children had come to greet him excitedly and welcome him home, many of them were also jabbering away just as excitedly as their mother. Gertrude shooed them away, telling them that she would be the one to share the good news with him. They obeyed and retreated, watching as their mother tended to their father. She steered him towards his favorite chair and brought over one of their low stools. She lowered herself to her knees so that she could prop up his feet while she removed his shoes and replaced them with his worn house slippers.

Archie was impressed. His wife had not treated him so well since before the children were born. He began to relax a bit, but then tensed up once more as a thought occurred to him. "Gertrude-Beth," he asked asked suspiciously, "where is the gun?"

"Oh, that silly old thing?" Gertrude asked, waving a dismissive hand. "I put it away a few minutes ago. As you said: a gun is no thing for a woman to handle." Archie was even more impressed. Maybe that strange deal had worked, after all. "So, as I was saying: Clara was digging in the yard when the most unbelievable thing happened, Archie... We struck oil!"

"What?!" Archie couldn't believe his ears. He sat up straighter in his chair. "What do you mean 'we struck oil'?"

"Just as I said-" at that, all of the children, who had been listening and waiting for their mother to finally spill the beans, starting yakking away all at once. They were all, loudly and enthusiastically, trying to give their own account of what happened, but it came out in an unintelligible, garbled mess. "Children, children, please! Not all at once. You'll overwhelm your poor father!"

"Papa, Papa!" Little Clara said, refusing to be quelled. "I dug up the oil! I dug up the oil!" She was saying, while animatedly jumping up an down. All of his children had inherited his bone-straight, platinum blonde hair; except for Clara and Lloyd, his seventh and tenth children, respectively, who had inherited their mother's chestnut curls.

"Yes, Clara. So I've heard," Archie confirmed, indulgently. His family resumed their manic chatter, each of them competing to monopolize his attention.

It was a losing battle, however. The attention of their father and husband was, in fact, monopolized by yours truly. The strange man whom he was only now admitting to himself to being a demon. 'This must be the other part of our deal,' he thought. But what about the part that he, himself, would have to uphold? When would he have to relinquish his soul? Or was it already gone? How would he know?

He felt that he must find out.


We are going to skip ahead now. To nearly ten years into the future. Archie has only a month left until he must pay up, an he is starting to panic; but only a little. He has a plan.

The oil well that was discovered beneath his home is one of the largest in the country, maybe even the world, and it shows no sign of emptying. During all this time, he has become a very wealthy man. I of course knew that he would be, but after that first night, I never checked on him again. However, during one particular night, I did learn quite a bit about his life. What he had been up to in the ten years leading up to it.

During the night that he summoned me.

I found myself at a crossroads, once again facing dear old Archibald Alexander King. "My, my, my. Isn't this a surprise," I said, putting my hands in my pockets and rocking back on my heels.

"H-hello, Mr. Crowley. It's been a long time."

"So it has." I stopped rocking and looked him squarely in the eyes. I could see all that he had been through. I could hear his thoughts, the war going on inside his head. It was quite... amusing. But at the same time, it was perplexing. He seemed to be hiding some thing from me. It takes quite a bit of practice, and some skill, for someone to hide something from a mind-reading demon, so this was quite intriguing.

"I have come..." he began, then stopped. "I would like to make another deal."

I chuckled. I already knew that, but I kept silent. I would let him humiliate himself before destroying his hope of getting out of the deal. "Hm. And what deal would that be?" I waited for the inevitable: for him to beg for his life; maybe even repent, as if that would make a difference. As if that would be enough to save his soul from the pit.

"Well, it's more like a trade."

"A trade?" I asked. Archie nodded. "Well spit it out, man!"

He flinch slightly, but carried on, nonetheless. "I've done quite a bit of research... talked to people. I bought quite a few books and I've learned quite a bit about your kind... demons." He swallowed hard, trying to calm his nerves.

"Ah yes. The things wealth can afford you. And how's the missus?"

"Uh- she's fine," he stammered, confused by the subject change. "Um, obedient."

"And the children?"

"Well, yes. They're doing well also. M-my daughters have all been married off. All but my youngest son, as well. My eldest is expecting her first child soon..." He trailed off. "That's... that's partially what I wish to discuss with you."

"Oh?"

"I-" he swallowed again, "I don't want to go to Hell." He finally spit it out.

"Well, there's nothing either of us can do about that. You made the deal willingly. I told you what I wanted. What did you expect would happen when you sold your soul to a demon?"

"I- I didn't really expect for it to work. It all seemed so... surreal."

"Yes, well, I assure you: it was quite real."

"I know!" He took a deep, steadying breath before plowing forward. "I'd like to trade my soul... for the soul of one of my children."

My eyebrows shot up at that. "Well, that is intriguing, isn't it?" I looked him up and down, appreciating the cruelty of the man, even though it stemmed from his trademark cowardice. But, "That's not enough," I informed him.

His face fell at that. "I was afraid you'd say that. Never take the first deal offered, right? Crossroads demons are business men, correct? So, how about... three of my children?"

I chuckled at his desperation. I could tell he was beginning to fret. I wondered how far he would be willing to go. "That's still not enough for me to go through the trouble of changing our arrangement, nearly ten full years later. You know your contract is nearly up, right? I'm sure you gleaned that from your research, yes?"

He took a deep breath before saying, "Yes. What about five of my children's souls? Or six! Six souls for my one. Please..."

"Oh don't beg, dear. It's not becoming." I pretended to think on it for a moment before answering. "No." His face fell at that, desperation rising. "It will still take more than that." I could see the wheels turning in his head.

"Fine..." I could see that this was paining him. "All of them. All of my children's souls in exchange for mine. That's ten souls. Ten! That has to be more than enough."

"Hmmm. Interesting. You must love yourself very much." He didn't say anything as I thought over his offer, thought I did see the shadow of shame cross his features. I tapped a finger against my chin in thought. Finally I said, "I don't think you fully appreciate the magnitude of the situation. The importance that demons put on the deals they make. They are... sacred, for lack of a better word. A demon deal is not something that can just be tossed out and re-written at the merest whim!" I paused and let that sink in before I continued. I could see the hope dying in his eyes. "So, if you really want to renege on our original deal, what you are offering is not enough!"

It actually would have been enough. Hell just wants souls. The more the better. We're not picky about how we come across them, as long as we get them. Now, breaking a deal, that would have cost more than a one-on-one trade-off. A five-to-one would have been sufficient, but I was still curious to see how far he would go, so I egged him on. I didn't force him to do this, mind you. He could have walked away at any point and just accepted his fate. But no, he had to keep on upping the ante.

"What about..." he paused to think. "What about all of my progeny?" There was a tremor in his voice as he made the offer, no doubt thinking about his unborn grandchild, and all of the grandchildren to come.

I gave him a wide smile. "Now that's more like it." I actually felt rather proud of the man. "Okay, so in exchange for keeping your soul from being condemned to hell, we shall instead condemn the souls of all of your children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and all other decedents of yours, until your line dies out, or until time stops. Whichever comes first. Correct?" Archie swallowed hard, yet again, but nodded all the same. "I will need vocal confirmation from you on this."

Taking a deep breath, he said loud and clear, "Yes. That's the deal."

"Alright, then. That's the deal."

So, we sealed the deal in the usual way. With a single kiss, Archibald Alexander King condemned his entire line to hell. All to save his own ass.


A/N: So, would anyone like to leave some feedback? What do you guys think of it so far? Let me know in the comments :)