Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long to post!


The Crossroads was six miles away from Milton Enterprises. Castiel would have simply popped into existence in Crowley's office if he hadn't know that he was going to need all his remaining power for what he had planned.

Instead, Becky drove him there, and this time, when she insisted on coming with him, Castiel just nodded and made sure she had a gun.

The demon guarding the door flashes the back of the card to Castiel.

"Bird on a ladder."

"Sorry…" Before the demon had a chance to finish his sentence, though, Castiel punches him in the face and murmurs an Enochian exorcism. The demon smokes out of the body immediately.

"Wait here, Becky."

"Okay." The nerdy woman stands over the now-dead bodyguard and laughs smugly as Castiel headed for Crowley's office. "Who's a rat in a dress now?"

Castiel kicks down the door to Crowley's office easily, fueled by rage and a little of his power.

"Have you lost your mind?" Crowley rises to his feet immediately, glass of scotch falling from his hand. He flicked his wrist as if to use his powers.

Castiel pulled his angel blade from his coat and shook his head. "Don't. I need to use the Chair."

"I can't. This is neutral land, Castiel. I don't want to upset the balance."

"Fuck the balance!"

Immediately Castiel is slammed into the wall by a force of Crowley's power. The demon flings Castiel's blade aside easily. "Are you insulting me in my own house?" Crowley is clearly pissed off, his eyes red-rimmed solid black. He snaps his fingers and Castiel feels his ribs shatter, the pain intense but passable if Castiel repeats his mantra of Dean Dean Dean Dean in his head.

"It's bullshit, Crowley. You're the only one who's playing by the rules. Bela, Zachariah, they were your friends!"

Crowley snaps again, and this time it's Castiel's femurs that break.

"Consider it a last request!"

The demon snaps one last time, and Castiel's fingers and toes splinter.

"Lilith is free!"

"I'm aware."

"She's going to raise Lucifer. She has the vessel."

Crowley stops for a moment. "Lucifer?"

"You know, Satan."

"I know who Lucifer is, moron." The demon takes a step back and smiles as Castiel feels his bones mend themselves. "You play a dangerous game, Castiel."


"The problem with Lucifer is that he hates everything. When he's done smiting humanity, he's going to spike anything with black eyes." Crowley taps the impressive iron door twice.

The door swings open with a groan, revealing a room twice the size of the Crossroads' public club area, packed from the floor to the ceiling with everything and anything, from priceless pieces of art to torture weapons literally from the depths of Hell.

This, as Crowley once explained to Castiel, is his personal collection of relics, his favorites among the thousands he's accumulated.

Crowley flicks his wrist, clearing a path to what Castiel's dubbed the Chair instantly.

"Forgot how big it was." Castiel keeps the sudden apprehension he's feeling out of his voice.

"Three hundred souls of the damned passed through that particular electric chair, you know. I know about ninety of them personally."

Castiel drags the massive chair to the center of the room and flops ungracefully into it while Crowley prepares.

"How long has it been since you've surfed?" The demon sets bucket to fill with water as he pours two tumblers full of Craig, which, as far as Crowley was concerned, is the only thing worth drinking.

"I can do it."

"This has more to do with Dean Winchester than Lucifer, doesn't it?"

"This is definitely mostly about Lucifer."

"I'm the King of the Crossroads, darling. I know a lie when I hear it."

"I… have become attached to the human in my charge, yes."

Crowley offers a glass of scotch to Castiel, who swallows his down faster even than the demon.

"Ready?"

Castiel nods and sets his tumbler down on the floor beside the Chair before he takes off his shoes and socks.

Crowley dumps the bucket of water over the floor and the fallen angel's feet. He smashes a light bulb, leaving the glowing wire exposed.

"Sure about this, mate?"

"No."

Crowley slams the shattered light bulb into the water anyways.


The current hits Castiel with the force only electric shock can carry.

Immediately, the world around him flashes between the fires of Hell and the blindingly white light of Heaven, shattered into fragments.

The scene flashes to Dean, strung up on a rack in Hell, his skin hanging off of his body in shreds. "Just snatch the razor from my hand, Dean. Just say yes." The taunting demon—Alistair, Castiel recognizes—waves the weapon enticingly over Dean's face.

"Yes." It's barely above a whisper, but loud enough.

"What's that, Dean?"

"Yes, you son of a bitch. Yes. Just let me down! Give me the fucking razor!"

"That's a good boy."

It shifts to Sam, sitting in a hospital room, scratching the word no repeatedly on every available surface using what looks like a stolen medical scalpel. It's already carved into his arms, legs and stomach from what Castiel can see, the cuts still oozing blood.

"No, no, no, I'll never say yes, I'll never say yes, not to you… No… No…" Sam looks out the window for a moment. "If I'm dead, I can't say yes, can I? No. No."

It shifts again, this time to the pool area of the hospital where Sam had flung himself to his death.

Lilith, wearing some poor little blonde girl's meatsuit, stands in the far corner of the room, eyes solid white.

"Crowley!" Castiel shouts.


The demon yanks him out of the Chair instantly, pulling him out of the vision. "Any luck?"

"I found Lilith, if you'd consider that luck."

"I imagine our Teen Beat model can't be far behind her."

A loud, girlish squeal pulls both Crowley and Castiel into the real world. "Oh. My. God. You're Crowley, aren't you?"

"I told you to stay in the lobby, Becky." Not that Castiel really expected Becky to listen to him, but his sort-of apprentice didn't have to know that.

"But he's the King of the Crossroads!"