"Hey, Aunt Carolyn, I'm back!" The door slammed behind him as he had kicked it with a muddy boot, letting the heavy bag slide off his shoulder and onto the floor with a rattling thud. Using the toes of his boot to pull off the other, he threw a quick glance across the hallway to the kitchen, which was empty of anything but dirty dishes.

"Aunt Carolyn?" He called up the stairs once he had gotten his boots off, yanking off his cap and hanging it on the knob of the banisters in one swift motion.

"I'm up here!" A voice rang from upstairs and he let out a chuckle with a shake of his head, returning to the hallway to haul his bag back onto his shoulder.

"I found something good you might wanna feast your eyes on!" He wore a grin as he marched up the stairs with heavy steps. Taking a turn into the study come library, he dunked down the bag onto the desk. The woman who was sitting behind it had obviously been working on some papers, and she glanced up at him without moving her head, her eyes narrow as she adjusted her reading glasses.

"You know I love it when you get all excited but what have I told you 'bout the bag?" He instantly lifted the bag off the desk and cleared his throat, cocking his head before putting it down on the floor. "Alright, so what do you have for me boy?" Digging around in the bag while sitting on his heels, the man grinned.

"I chased a poltergeist down into an old sinkhole. No worries, all dried up, but there were tunnels. It led me to a buried old chapel." The woman raised an eyebrow as she leaned over the desk, trying to keep an eye on her nephew and whatever he was digging for. "Don't tell me you found some sorta' cursed object." He shook his head and then grinned widely. "Here it is."

Standing up, he was holding an old wooden case. It had strange inscriptions on it, ones they had never seen before, but it didn't look like it was meant to keep anything sealed inside.

"A box?" Carolyn remained unimpressed as she glanced up at her nephew with her eyebrows raised. He quickly proceeded to put the box down onto the table and lift the lid, but once he grabbed said lid, he was careful with removing it. Inside of the box, there laid a book. It was an ancient thing with a crest burned into the weathered old leather, and it had no clasp, it was simply tied closed with long strands of flexible bark. She sucked in a soft gasp, reaching into the box as though she was about to pick up the most fragile of infants.

"Now what have you stumbled upon, Noah..?" Gingerly placing the book down in front of her, she stroked two fingers along the old hide. "This seems to be as old as it looks."She stated calmly, adjusting her glasses again before leaning over to aim her desktop lamp at the book. Noah had pulled up a chair, scratching at his cheek idly, finding his stub suddenly irresistibly itchy. It was a bad habit of his, but he couldn't help himself.

"What do you think the leather is made of? I'd guess boar hide, but I'm not sure." She hummed softly in thought, looking the book over, not even thinking about opening it just yet. "It's layered leather, so it could be a combination of hides. Whatever the creator of this book could kill was turned into this cover, that's my guess." Noah leaned forward over the desk to look at the book more closely.

"Think you can open it without breaking the bark?" She frowned and leaned back in her seat, stroking her chin pensively, a frown causing fine wrinkles to appear around her eyes. She was only just past 50, and the years had been kind to her, at least when one thought about what those years had contained for her and her family. Her hair was just shy of black, a truly dark chestnut with strands of grey as the only highlights. Her eyes were of a steely, determined silver with speckles of gold, and her skin, which was dotted with freckles, gave the illusion of a tan. Noah, who sat across the table, didn't quite share her features, but almost. His eyes were a dusty gold and his hair somewhat lighter and duller in colour, but not by much. An old bruised cut was healing on his cheek, but was well enough to not need any kind of medical attention. While his aunt was lean and slim, with only as much muscle as she had to have, he was of a more muscular frame. Not quite of the bodybuilding type, but enough to steer away from ever being called skinny. Dragging a hand over his short hair, he watched his aunt as she remained deeply in thought, her eyes fixed on the book.

"It would be an awful shame having to cut such pretty bark. If it's extinct, a museum could pay a hefty price for it." Noah barked out a laugh, grinning as he weighed back on his chair. "Well" He spoke as he let his chair thud down onto the carpet again before standing up. "I'll give you some time to untwine that there bark. I'll be back with a glass of whiskey lickety-split."

Carolyn smiled as she watched her nephew leave the room before returning her attention to the book. Pulling out a drawer, she picked up some specialized tweezers, and got to work with untangling the dry old bark, eager to get into the book.


It had taken her two hours to carefully unwrap the bark, freeing the book. It had been so tightly tied around the leather that it had left deep marks in the hide. It was a shame, but there was nothing she could do about that. Having sent Noah off with the bark to a specialist they knew, she opened up the book. Her nephew had been highly unhappy with not getting to be there when they opened up the book, but they needed the possible money that the bark could offer, and their acquaintance specialist had only had time today to examine the bark.

"We all have to make sacrifices.." She chuckled to herself and took a swig of her whiskey before putting it away, leaning in close to carefully examine the pages. The writing was not in any language she recognized off the bat, so she focused her attention on what the pages themselves were made out of. The book looked as though it was made before the first book. Its construction material was so primitive that it was hard to believe whoever had made it had been able to access anything that was commonly used to make bound books. However, it had been put together in a way that led her to believe that the person who made it knew how to make an actual, proper book, but lacked the materials, as well as tools needed. It was bound together at the back by strips of leather which had been beautifully tied, and the pages themselves were sturdy yet sheer, and she had to take a closer look. Pulling open a drawer, she fished out a magnifying glass to take a proper look at the old page, in order to figure out exactly what it was made out of. It hadn't felt nor looked like any wooden material. And she soon discovered why.

"Well would ya look at that." Huffing out a laugh, she leaned back in her seat. The pages were made out of skin. A very thin and sheer kind of skin, and not from just any animal. She had to test it to be sure, but as far as she could tell; those pages were made out of human skin.


"Elymian? Are you sure, Carolyn?" Sam frowned as he spoke, holding his phone firmly to his ear. He was leaning against the Impala while waiting for Dean to pay for gas. The two of them were out on a simple salt and burn hunt, and Amy had elected to remain at home. After last time's scare, she seemed a tad more eager to keep herself safe.

"Yes, I mean no, I don't doubt that your research is correct, but I've never even heard of Elymian. Is it an actual language?"

"A really obscure one at that." Sam winced and turned around, finding Crowley on the other side of the car. He glanced around to check if the demon had come alone, blinking in confusion as to what exactly the King of Hell was doing there. Frowning, he narrowed his eyes on the other. "Excuse me?"

Holding up a finger, Crowley made his way around the car.

"Elymian! It's an obscure language. Really old, before the whole charade with the son of God and all that mumbo-jumbo." Crowley gestured with his hands as he spoke, clearly thinking very lowly of that whole ordeal.

"What? Yes, I'm still here, sorry, I just got, interrupted." With that, he turned his back on the other, who blinked and held out his hands. "Such treatment! And here I was going to help." Sam huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he turned around again.

"Yeah right, you want to help. Because you're such a swell chap?" Crowley tasted the words, weighing them in his hands. "Hmmm whichever you want to call it point is, I'm here to help." His lips were curved with one of those knowing smiles of his. There was no doubt that he had something in store, and Sam knew better than to trust a slippery eel like Crowley. He held up a palm towards Crowley as a way to tell him to stay there as he walked away himself, wishing to end the conversation in privacy.

"Just bring the book to us and we'll see what we can do. Yeah. Keep safe." Hanging up, he shoved the phone back into his pocket as he turned around, only to flinch as Crowley were mere inches away from him. "I have to say, I find this mysterious air about you very intriguing, Moose." Crowley spoke with a sneer, as composed as ever. It didn't matter who the demon spoke to, there was always something flirtatious in his voice, and it never failed to make his skin crawl.

"Come now, do you actually believe that there is some dusty old tome in that bunker of yours that will help you translate Elymian?" He barked out a laugh as if he had just suggested that an ant could defeat a lion. Sam hesitantly glanced about, what was taking Dean so long?

"What do you mean, why wouldn't there be?" Crowley narrowed his eyes on the tall hunter.

"Do you even know when Elymian went extinct?"

"Uhh.." Crowley rolled his eyes. "I didn't think so. Well, good luck, call me when you need me." With a cheeky wink, the demon disappeared. Sam almost felt the need to wash out his mouth simply from talking to the other, he really left a bad taste in his mouth, and it was not just the picture of Crowley and Bobby kissing that was haunting him.

"What's up with you?" Dean frowned as he walked towards the car. His brother looked somewhat pale, which was never good. "Uhhh.. Well, Crowley stopped by." Dean instinctively reached for the demon blade that sat comfortably in his belt, looking around. "Dean, Dean! He's gone, it's fine."

"Well, what did he want?" Sam chuckled and rolled his shoulders with a wondering expression. "He said he wanted to help."

"Help with what? With the book? Yeah right." Dean huffed out a chuckle with a slanted grin as he slid into the car. Sam followed his brother's lead, sitting down in the Impala, closing the door.

"Apparently, we're not going to be able to translate it." Sam spoke with slight sarcasm as he looked over at Dean with a smile and raised eyebrows. "What? Come on, we're Men of Letters, why wouldn't we be able to translate it?"


"I can't translate this." Castiel looked up from the book that he was holding in his hands. Carolyn looked less than impressed as she stood with a hand on her hip. She glanced over at Dean, who frowned.

"Of course you can, you're an angel!" Dean motioned towards Castiel, who just gave him a sour look. "I am an angel, not a translator. Enochian is a commonly used angelic language, while Elymian is an incredibly obscure and narrow language." Dean heaved a sigh, pulling out a chair to sit down. The table was full of books that were open as they had spent hours trying to find anything about the Elymian language. Castiel had been their last hope.

"Where does it even come from?" The angel took a breath, stroking a thumb over the book. "It is said, that the Elymi were a people descendant from the Trojans. After the war, they were led by the hero Acestes to Sicily, where they settled. Their lives and culture were, shrouded in mystery. Their language went extinct around the third to the first century before Christ. Its origin remains unknown to all." With those words, the angel looked up at the group of people.

"It is surprising that there is a book in this language, as bound books such as these were not invented until the fifth century. There were earlier forms of books, sure, but this is quite the intricate work.." Castiel's voice lowered to a mumble as he examined the book, lifting the cover and looking at the pages, the binding on the back, everything. Carolyn huffed and took the book back from the angel.

"So, that's it then? We're never going to find out what it says in here?" Sam hesitated slightly before speaking up. "Well, there is.."

"No Crowley!" Dean cut his brother short. "We're worked enough with that slimy bastard!"

"Did Crowley say that he is able to translate this?" Carolyn looked over at Sam, determination clear in her eyes. She wasn't about to give up so easily. "Then let's summon him! After all this time I'm sure you boys have a trick or two up your sleeves, you know, to get him to behave." Dean glared at the woman before heaving a defeated sigh. "Fine. But not here, we'll summon him somewhere else." Carolyn held out her arms with a smile, looking at the others in the room.

"So what are we waiting for? Let's go summon the King of Hell!"


There was no precaution too small when it came to summoning the King of Hell. Crowley had never been the one to appear and attack, but they could never be sure. Doing something they don't expect would be right up Crowley's street, and thus, they had to expect everything. They had all, save for Amy, gathered in an old barn that Carolyn's family owned. It was expertly warded against both angels and demons with devils traps in the most unlikely of areas. The most important ones however were hidden under a fake floor, and on the ceiling.

"Alright, are we ready to go?" Above them on the flat ceiling there was a massive devils trap, with smaller ones built into it. It was of her own design, and it worked like a charm. In fact, that ceiling was built about three meters below the actual top of the barn, for the sole purpose of holding a trap like that. Carolyn was meticulous and intent on keeping what little family she had left alive, and she was not going to let a slipup with a devils trap ruin everything.

Dean was standing by a table with all the ingredients for summoning Crowley, the last thing needed was simply a spark. As the ingredients flashed with the flame, it only took a few moments before Crowley appeared with a smirk.

"Changed our minds, have we?" He glanced around to see just who was attending to this lovely little meeting. Seemed like a whole group of fun. Looking up, he sighed and raised an eyebrow.

"Really boys? Again with the devils trap? One could question your sense of creativity."

"Can it Crowley." The demon put his hand to his mouth with a fake shocked expression. "Oh my. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." A snicker left the man as he locked his hands behind his back with a smile as calm as ever. Carolyn opened the wooden box to show the book to Crowley, who raised his eyebrows. He had never seen such a book, yet he somehow recognized the crest that had been burnt into it. Not that he was going to share that information so easily, oh no.

"Can you translate this?"

"Elymian? Why yes I can, even though it's an ancient language even for us." He put a hand to his chest as he spoke with a smile, almost bowing with that gesture.

"Even for you?" Carolyn frowned, looking at the demon. "What does that mean?" Crowley rolled his shoulders in a shrug, averting his eyes. "Well it's an ancient language from Hell. Slipped out onto earth a bloody long time ago. Didn't last very long. C'est la vie." The hunters frowned and looked at each other, this was already getting confusing.

"Hell has its own language?"

"Several, actually. Elymian is simply the oldest and most obscure. Now, I am not going to say more, I think I've given you plenty as a teaser." The man smirked as he sat down in the chair that the hunters so kindly had provided him with. It was amusing, watching them huddle together, scrambling to come up with a plan of action. He had to come up with some kind of bargain to trick them into believing it was not actually the contents of the book that he wanted. It had been difficult to believe when he had gotten the call about someone unearthing a bound book written in Elymian. He had wasted no time in tracking down who possessed it, and of course, it had led him to the Winchesters. Now, the book hadn't been in their hands at the time, but how could he not grab the chance to play with his favourite chewtoys? Even though it did mean letting a superfluous pair of hunters live. For now, at least.

"Well, how goes it?" He raised his eyebrows, using his most innocent voice to pry. All it got him was an angry glare from Dean so he leaned back in his seat, huffing lightly. About as polite as a rogue teenager, that one. Not that he was expecting anything else. A boar and a moose, working together. The thought got a bit of a chuckle out of him.

"Alright Crowley, we'll let you translate it."

"Marvellous! I will start right away, give me the book." Crowley held out his hand, wiggling his fingers expectantly. "Come now, I haven't got all day."

"Condition number one is that the book stays with us." Sam spoke up, watching the now quite disappointed demon. "You boys don't trust me, after all this time? Shame on you." There was a twitch of a smile playing on Crowley's lips before he gestured in defeat.

"Alright fine, book stays with you, anything else?"

"Yes. You try anything funny, and we're selling your ass to Abbadon." Dean took a few steps towards the demon, dragging the table over the wooden floor.

"I'll be as dreary as I can muster."

"And you'll stay here, until you're done." He frowned and looked up at Dean who was looming over him. "And when do I get to state my terms?" Snorting, Dean stepped away from the table, crossing his arms over his chest, waiting for Crowley to speak.

"Well first off, I want to walk away from this, but that's kind of a given, isn't it?" He chuckled lowly as he leaned back in his seat comfortably. At least this time he wasn't bound by chains, just a devils trap. "But that I really want to know.." He smirked as he glanced over at the angel, who had been rather stoic the entire time. It was time to ruffle some feathers. ".. Is how on earth did you find a unicorn? Oh! And where can I get one?" Castiel lowered his arms as he stared at the demon, his mind working over how Crowley had come across such information.

"Oh come now sweetcheeks, surely you didn't think you could keep news like that from the King of Hell?" Approaching Crowley, Castiel roughly grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring the man close to his face, his eyes locked with the others'.

"How did you know." The hoarse voice of the angel was demanding answers, and it didn't seem like he'd back down from getting them.

"Please, aren't we beyond underestimating my network of intelligence? Hm?" Dean put a hand on Castiel's shoulder, urging the angel to let Crowley go and back up, keeping a close eye on the demon as he did so.

"So, what will it be? You tell me where to find a unicorn, I'll translate your book, we all part ways as unlikely friends. How does that sound?"

"We do not know where to find a unicorn."

"Then give me yours."

"Out of the question."

"Then there's no deal." The conversation between the angel and the demon were like dogs snapping their teeth at each other. After staring each other down for surely a minute or two, Dean stepped in.

"How about we tell you the signs of a unicorn's presence, instead?" Crowley primmed his lips as he tasted the suggestion, looking around in thought. It was better than getting nothing out of this little endeavour, and after all, the book was his main interest. This way, he was getting what he wanted, as well as a little parting gift. Giving a nod, he looked over at the Winchesters with a grin.

"Alright, it's a deal! Let's kiss on it."