Thank you so much Jenjoremy for the kickass beta job and Gredelina1 and SandraEngstrom2 for all your help hammering out the ideas.
Thank you all for reading.
Chapter Eleven
Another deal. Of course it was going to take a deal; from what Charlie knew of the demon, he wouldn't do anything without a deal that weighted things in his favor. He was a Grade A asshole, but apparently the only one that knew how to get Sam back judging from the blank looks on Dean and Castiel's faces. Charlie had no more idea than them either; she just knew they had to.
Dean loomed over the demon, his hands coming up to grip his lapels. "Dammit, Crowley, tell me how!"
Crowley pushed him back a few steps and brushed his hands down his front, as if brushing away dirt. "Let's all keep our hands to ourselves, shall we?"
Dean's own hands fisted, but he didn't make another move toward the demon. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet and looked like he was making a concentrated effort to not attack when Crowley was so obviously enjoying his fear and panic. Charlie could relate. Every time her eyes fell on the figure on the bed, she felt a pang in her chest. It had been days of trying and failing to get Sam back, and now she knew the angel they'd thought was fighting on their side had been working against them instead. He was the reason they couldn't have Sam back, because whatever he had done had pushed Sam so far down that not even a demon could see him. Which begged the question of what he was going to do to save Sam if he couldn't see him.
"What exactly do you want us to deal for?" Castiel asked.
Crowley grinned. "Well, I've got quite the bucket list where you're all concerned to be honest. I'd like eternal servitude and the chance to give the moose a buzz cut, but I'll settle for my freedom and a little… assistance."
"You want our help?" Castiel asked.
"Not yours. You're no more useful than a chocolate teapot these days. But Squirrel and Mr. Coma over there, yeah," Crowley said. "I've got something of a situation going on at the moment with Abaddon, and I figured they could help me out. They have a stunning history of beating the odds and taking down the bad guy. I want to tap into that."
"You are the bad guy, Crowley," Castiel stated.
"Usually, yes. Probably now even, but I am also the devil you know. Abaddon is up to all kinds of nastiness, and she needs to be stopped."
"What kind of nastiness?" Charlie asked.
"Glad you asked, Barbie," Crowley said. "Little minx has called in all my deals early, wiping away any semblance of buyer confidence I had built up. She's 'restructuring' Hell to make it what it was back in the infernal old days—chaos, basically."
"That doesn't seem like our problem," Charlie said.
"Of course not, dear," Crowley said sarcastically. "It's not your problem until that chaos starts spilling out topside. She won't be satisfied ruling Hell. She's going to want the earth, too. She's Lucifer's own—handpicked by the Devil himself. She's not going to respect the boundaries I've kept to. There's rules, dammit, a few demons here, and few humans there, and she's breaking them all!"
"Okay," Dean said. "We get the point. And we'll help you, but you have to get Sammy back first."
"Wait!" Castiel said harshly, stepping between Dean and Crowley. "We need to make sure this can't backfire on us, Dean."
"You can trust me," Crowley said.
Castiel cast him a look of scathing. "We cannot trust him. Think of everything he has done to us, to the world, to Sam."
He seemed to have found the right words to make Dean pause. He stepped back and nodded.
Castiel turned to Crowley and asked, "The exact details of the deal?"
"Simple exchange," Crowley said, addressing Dean rather than Castiel. "You let me go free and when it comes down to the Boss Fight with Abaddon, you're on my side not hers."
"Why would they be on her side?" Charlie asked suspiciously.
"Because they detest me. Unfortunately, I'm the lesser of two magnificent evils in this situation, so they don't really have a choice."
"And in exchange for this help, what will you do?" Castiel asked.
"I'll get the moose out of whatever hidey-hole he's got himself stuck in. I figure that feathered pest stuffed him down deep enough that he can't find his way out on his own. I'll give him a hand."
"How do you propose to do that?"
Crowley looked at him like he was being a little simple. "By possessing him."
Dean took a step back and Charlie winced. If she had thought about it, she would have guessed that would be the solution, but she'd been preoccupied by the deal part of the problem.
Crowley continued blithely. "When we possess a person, we possess all of them. We have access to everything and that's exactly what I'll need to find him—everything in his mind. That's where he's trapped, I'd bet a bottle of Craig, so that's where I need to be."
Dean shuddered.
"Of course I could do it old school," Crowley said. "Remember Samandriel? I got into his head pretty well. I could try the same with Sam."
"No!" Dean said, looking sickened.
Crowley laughed. "Didn't think so. So, do we have a deal?"
"One more thing," Castiel said as Dean opened his mouth to answer. "You will have to swear to leave Sam as soon as you find him. You cannot run wild with him as a meat suit."
"Not a problem," Crowley said. "I'm scared of heights anyway."
Castiel rolled his eyes. Dean turned to him hopefully. "Anything else, Cas?"
"No," Castiel said. "I think that's it."
"Wait," Charlie said quickly. "Are we sure about this? Is stuffing him with a demon a good idea after how stuffing him with an angel ended?" She jerked her head at Crowley. "And he is evil."
"I am," Crowley said happily. "But I am also honest. I'm not going to screw them over. This time, I am going to save the day."
"We really don't have a choice," Dean said, looking down at his brother. "We've got to get him back. We've got a deal." He held out a hand to Crowley and they shook. Dean pulled the penknife from his pocket again and tugged Sam's shirt open to reveal the anti-possession tattoo. He cut a line through it, making blood well and breaking its clean lines. "When you find him, say Poughkeepsie."
"Aw, you have code words," Crowley said in an indulgent tone. "What does this one mean? Trust the devilishly handsome demon come to rescue you?"
"It doesn't matter what it means," Dean said. "Sam will know."
Crowley bounced on the balls of his feet like a diver preparing to jump, and then his head flew back and a cloud of red smoke poured from his mouth and into Sam's.
Charlie's wide eyes followed it and she breathed, "Whoa," as the last of it disappeared into Sam. "Now what?" she asked.
"Now," Castiel said. "We wait."
Dean stood over Sam, his eyes tight with tension. "C'mon, Sammy. You can do it."
Sam was sprinting along the corridors, one destination in mind but no real hope he would reach it before he was caught.
He reached a fork in the path and he stopped for a moment, trying to catch his breath. There was no way to remember which path he had chosen last time as they were all identical, that was if he had even been here before. The Cage was endless, a constant maze of stone walls. The icy air of the place had long since steeped into his bones, but he still blew on his hands to warm them as he pondered the paths ahead of him.
He would perhaps have stayed there longer had it not been for the footsteps that advanced behind him. He went right and set off at a run again. With the sound of his pursuers getting closer, he knew he would not escape, they would always find him, but he was not defeated yet. It was not in his nature to give in easily. He was a Winchester, taught by the best.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, he collided with something warm and solid. He stumbled back a few steps and looked up into the angel's eyes.
"Hello, Sam," Michael said. "Did you enjoy your little exercise?"
Sam almost groaned at his defeat.
The footsteps behind him slowed and stopped, and the hated voice said. "Oh good. You found him."
Sam turned reluctantly and looked into Lucifer's smug face. He glared all his hatred at the fallen angel. "Fuck you," he snarled.
"Now, is that polite?" Lucifer asked. "We allowed you your little jaunt, a reprieve as it were, now you're being rude. I don't care for that, Sam."
"Where is Dean?" Sam asked.
Michael rolled his eyes. "Always the same question. When are you doing to get it through your thick skull that he's not here?"
"If he's not here, where is he?" Sam asked.
"Probably in a sleazy bar somewhere," Michael said. "Drinking away his woes and sadness for his fallen brother. Though, does it count as fallen when you throw yourself into the pit willingly?"
"No," Sam said stubbornly. "That's wrong. I got out."
Michael sighed. "So you keep saying, but if you got out, how are you here? Did you happen to slip and fall into another portal?"
"Cas got me out," Sam said. "He got my body out and Death came back for my soul."
"No," Lucifer said slowly. "That's what we wanted you to think. That was all a dream, remember? A hallucination. As if Castiel, that stunted seraph, could breach the Cage and steal anything from under our noses, let alone our favorite bunkmate."
"He did though," Sam said persistently. "I was out and then Eve came, and the Leviathans and the angels fell. I remember all those things!"
"You remember the lie, that is all," Lucifer said.
Sam shook his head. "No! It's the witch. She did something to me." That was what scared Sam. If she was powerful enough to trap Sam in the cage again, what had she done to Dean and Charlie? They needed him and he was trapped.
"The Wicked Witch of the West?" Lucifer laughed.
"I am bored of this," Michael said. "There is no point talking to him; he's deranged."
Lucifer tapped his chin. "You may be right. We might as well get back to the fun part." He snapped his fingers and Sam found himself bound to the wall again by iron shackles. Lucifer stood in front of him, his blade drawn and a look of anticipation on his face.
Lucifer thrust his hand out, and Sam cried out as the knife pierced his stomach, leaving burning pain in its wake.
"Did you enjoy that?" Lucifer asked mildly.
Sam clenched his jaw shut, refusing to answer. He would not give them the satisfaction. They could make him scream and howl, he couldn't stop that, but he would not play their game.
"I asked," Lucifer said with a twist and push of the blade, "did you enjoy that?"
Sam howled as the tip of the knife scraped his spine. He could hear it even through his cries. It was the most horrific thing.
"Not feeling chatty?" Lucifer asked. "Shame."
"I don't know why you care, Lucifer" Michael said. "He makes the sounds you like most of all."
"I like a little back and forth," Lucifer said petulantly. "It enhances the experience for us all." He leaned close to Sam. "Doesn't it, Sam?"
Sam squeezed his eyes shut.
"That just won't do," Michael said. "Let's take away his eyelids."
Lucifer laughed cruelly.
Sam sucked in a harsh breath and tried to prepare himself for the agony, but it didn't come. Instead, there was a familiar voice and they all turned to see the newcomer. The stone walls had disappeared to be replaced by wide metal bars. Crowley stood just outside them, peering in.
"Wow, imagination doesn't really do it justice," he said. "I mean, I knew it would be bad, but eyelids? I'm definitely keeping that one for myself."
"Crowley!" Sam gasped.
The demon spread his arms at his sides. "The one and only. How're you doing, Moose?"
"Demon," Michael spat.
"King, actually," Crowley corrected.
"Let me guess, you're here to try to save him," Lucifer said, his tone amused.
"Yeah, pretty much, apart from trying. I'm going to save him, or more specifically, he will save himself."
"I've tried," Sam said desperately.
"You obviously haven't tried hard enough," Crowley said dryly. "Now come on. Click your heels together three times and we'll get you home to Toto, who just happens to be worrying himself into an aneurism over you."
"Dean?" Sam breathed. "You've seen him? He's okay?"
"Not particularly. Physically, he's mostly okay though—apart from that whole aneurism thing. I wasn't kidding. He doesn't do well without you."
Sam bucked against his restraints. "I'm trapped!"
"Only by your own mind." Crowley rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers. One moment he was outside the cage, looking in at them, the next he was in front of Sam. Lucifer and Michael reached for him, their eyes alight with malice, but Crowley merely waved a hand through the air and they disappeared.
"How did you do that?" Sam asked.
"We've got what you might call a time share on your mind right now. I got the angel out of you, and I popped in for a search and rescue mission."
"Angel?" Sam asked.
Crowley sighed. "Fine. Let's play catch-up. See, first there was a witch in your head, then there was an angel, and now me. Oh, and you and Dean are soulmates, so that's nice."
"I didn't let an angel in."
"That's something I think you should talk about with your brother, Moose. I only got the cliff-notes version of what happened. Now, for the sake of all things infernal, let's get out of here." He grabbed the shackles holding Sam to the wall and tore them apart easily, freeing Sam. "Focus on what you want," he said.
"Dean," Sam breathed.
"Exactly. Now hold him in your Cro-Magnon head and get us out."
Sam wasn't sure he believed Crowley, it could be another trick from the angels, but he thought it couldn't hurt to try. He closed his eyes and fixed Dean's face in his mind and pushed at the pressure against him. It was like trying to move a brick wall with his bare hands.
"That's it," Crowley said. "Put your back into it."
"I can't," Sam groaned, shaking his head in frustration.
"You can. Suddenly, an inexplicable smile spread across Crowley's features. "Poughkeepsie."
"What?" Sam asked.
"It's code or something, right? Dean said you'd know what it meant."
Poughkeepsie meant drop everything and run. Only he and Dean knew that, which meant this was real. Crowley was there; Sam could get free and back to Dean.
The realization worked like a surge of adrenaline. The wall suddenly felt like cardboard. Sam pushed hard against it, feeling the give, and then it tore. He forced himself through the hole and back into the world and a new pain.
"You see that?" Charlie asked.
Like Dean could miss it. There was a trickle of blood coming from Sam's nose, dripping down the side of his face. Dean wiped at it with the cuff of his shirt. "C'mon, Sammy," he murmured.
Suddenly, Sam jolted as if he'd been given an electric shock. Panic gripped Dean and he bowed over the bed, shouting his brother's name, just as Sam's mouth flew open and red smoke poured out of it and back into Crowley's meat suit.
There was a moment of silence but for the pounding of Dean's heartbeat in his ears, and then Crowley said, "Well, that was different."
Dean stared down at Sam, willing him to move, to gasp, to open his eyes, but there was no movement.
"It didn't work," he said in a kind of moan.
"'Course it did," Crowley said.
"You found him?" Charlie asked eagerly.
"You think I'm some kind of amateur? Of course I found him. Just give him a minute and he'll come round. He is only working at half power on account of those pesky internal injuries."
"Internal injuries?" Castiel asked in a strained tone, but at that moment Sam drew in a deep, heaving breath and his eyes opened, drawing all attention to him.
For a moment, he just lay still, blinking rapidly and drawing deep breaths, and then he said, "Dean?" weakly.
"I'm here," Dean said, relief making his own voice sound weak in his ears. "You're okay."
Sam's eyes fixed on him.
"Oh thank God," he whispered. He tried to push himself upright, but his arms shook with the effort. Dean knew what he needed though, and he pulled him up and into his arms. He clung to him, feeling the warm comforting weight of Sam's living and animated body, and he blinked tears out of his eyes.
"It's okay," Sam said reassuringly though a little weakly. "It's okay, Dean."
Dean knew that wasn't entirely true. He had his brother back at last, but there was still much to explain and admit. Sam needed to hear the full story of what had happened and why, and he wasn't going to be happy, but for now, Dean was just glad he was there, alive, in his arms.
So… This is where the story ends... Just kidding. This was where the story originally ended. There was an epilogue, but that was as far as it went. Jenjoremy disagreed. She thought there was more story to be told, and when I thought about it properly and shoved aside my last excuses, I settled down and started writing it. There are more twists and turns to come, so make sure you come back next time to see them.
Still reeling from the finale? Yeah, me too. Need to talk about it? Me too. My inbox is always open.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx