AN: Hi everyone! Sorry for the lateness – I've been quite busy doing some work experience and stuff. But anyways – thank you for all the reviews, I'm glad you're all enjoying the story and, yes – there will be some major stuff coming up soon.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm super proud since it's a long one and I've been so tired and busy lately :D

Anyway, please R&R – it makes my day!

But mostly: enjoy!

Xxx

~Fen~

Chapter Twenty-One:

Crowley's little 'chat' with Azazel mostly consisted of the yellow-eyed demon torturing Crowley about Athaya.

He wanted to know what Crowley kept appearing in the girl's life, and to be honest, Crowley was a little surprised that Azazel didn't know. It also meant that Crowley had that secret to keep. And keep it he did, despite the best efforts of the yellow-eyed demon. For a while, at least.

'Can we not discuss this like reasonable demons?' Crowley asked from the floor, his ribcage kicked in, and lip bleeding. Azazel really wasn't doing a very good job of getting information out of Crowley. He still believed that Crowley and Athaya's relationship was purely platonic. All business.

Crowley laughed to himself when the other demon didn't respond. 'Well,' Crowley chuckled. 'I guess this is what reasonable demons do. But…honestly, I'd love to tell you about the girl. She's far more trouble than she's worth – as you can see,' he glanced at his injuries. 'Unfortunately, she actually possesses an iota of intelligence and so made all sorts of conditions surrounding our deal.' Crowley wasn't lying. Their deal had been riddled with conditions. In fact, Crowley had suggested some of them himself.

Crowley found that lies containing certain elements of truth were often more believable than completely fabricated falsehoods. He also suspected that at some point or another, Azazel was going to discover that Crowley's relationship was much more than platonic. And then he'd be in trouble.

'Oh?' Azazel asked. 'The girl made conditions. This girl…who would have been…what, sixteen at the time? She made conditions that the king of the crossroads couldn't find a loophole in?'

'Like I said. Smart kid. In fact…I suspect she might be a closet genius,' Crowley smirked, and Azazel kicked him again.

'So…you were bested by a girl. A little girl beat the king of the crossroads at his own game?' Azazel crouched down next to Crowley and pulled out a knife. 'I've gotta say…I'm at a loss. Truthfully, I would have expected more from you. In fact…I know there's something more here. You're protecting her. Only…what for?' Azazel mused, tracing the knife down Crowley's face, along cheekbone, pausing next to his eye. Crowley found himself really loathing the chains binding his hands and feet, but managed to keep a look of composure present, despite his predicament.

'Of course I'm bloody protecting her! It was one of her conditions. I couldn't talkif I wanted to. Which I sincerely do, by the way, seeing as I'm in rather a lot of pain because of her,' Crowley spat, lying through his teeth. The pain was rather miniscule in comparison to what he'd felt in the past. He was only a little bit worried about the knife next to his eye, and so focused on trying to loosen his bonds. Unfortunately, as is the nature of chains, they don't really loosen. Not without help, that is.

'Those little pets you sent after me almost threw me off for a moment,' Azazel chuckled, referring to the two hellhounds Crowley set on the yellow-eyed demon. 'But they actually turned out to be quite a bit of fun,' Azazel grinned, and nodded to the two invisible carcasses that only Crowley could see in the corner of the room. Crowley felt a twinge of annoyance, but pushed it away. There were plenty more hellhounds where that came from.

'Now…' continued Azazel. 'While those puppies were fun to play with, it got me thinking. It got me thinking that…while I'm sure that your contract had conditions concerning your protecting of the girl…Would she really have gone into specifics like hellhounds? There was probably something like "I will protect the client Athaya Woolfe to the best of my ability." Am I right?' Azazel asked, and Crowley felt the first prickles of worry begin to form.

'I'll take that as a "Yes",' Azazel smiled. 'Now. Continuing. So…if it were just to the best of your ability – and as you've said: the girl is really quite annoying – then…when faced with almost certain death in the form of yours truly – even though it wasn't certain death, you weren't to know that, though…Wouldn't you jump at a chance to be rid of her? Why send the hellhounds?' Azazel asked, a wicked smile playing on his face.

Crowley froze. Ah.

'So…that got me thinking,' Azazel drawled, 'that maybe – just maybe – scary Mr King of the Crossroads had gone soft. Developed feelings for his client. Felt sorry for her, maybe?' Azazel shuddered slightly. 'Feelings. Nasty things. They have a habit of ruining everything, wouldn't you agree?' he asked innocently.

Crowley wished that his hands were free so he could wipe the smug smile of the twisted demn's face.

'So…you liked the girl. She is somewhat endearing, I suppose,' Azazel shrugged. 'Personally, I don't see it. But…You and Athaya are friends, thick as thieves, and so you – Oh?' Azazel paused. Crowley frowned at the demon's standstill.

'Not just friends?' Azazel inquired. 'More than friends, perhaps?' a sly grin was spreading across Azazel's face, and Crowley wondered what had given it away.

Crowley finally found his voice. 'You think I would dally with a mortal like her?' he managed to scoff. 'You know where my tastes lie, and it's not with humans.'

'I've been told that your taste is practically non-existent,' Azazel sneered. 'But that aside…you and her? She is a naughty girl, isn't she?' Azazel marvelled, pressing the blade closer to Crowley's eye.

'I have no idea what kind of personality she has, but I'm definitely certain her taste isn't demons. Seeing as how one ruined her life and all that,' Crowley growled, referring to the murder of Athaya's mother.

'I think a demon did do that, yes,' Azazel agreed. 'But it wasn't me, Crowley. Or should I say "isn't me"?' he wondered, removing the blade from Crowley's face to scratch his chin. 'Because, her life hasn't even begun to be ruined yet, and I'm afraid you'll be the one to do all the ruining,' Azazel said wistfully, and a cold smile spread over his face.

Athaya was pretty certain she'd consumed enough painkillers to stun a whale. While the good side to this was that she was finally reprieved from the agony of a broken leg, it also meant that she kept drifting in and out of consciousness. The hole in her stomach from where she'd stabbed herself was now a dull ache, after discovering under further inspection that it was not – in fact – too deep.

Bobby had come back on hearing about Athaya, Azazel and Crowley, and Sam had been left to look after Chelsea. Now, Bobby was thoroughly scolding Dean for not having called earlier.

'They're involved? What the hell am I supposed to do with that, boy?' Bobby growled, 'And you say the same demon that killed your mom did the same to hers? That it was here?'

'That's what Athaya said, anyway,' Dean explained.

Hold on. I don't remember telling Dean that Azazel was here.

'She kept mumbling about it as I set her leg. Azazel was here, apparently. I can't believe I missed the bastard,' Dean said bitterly.

'I can't believe you didn't call me, ya idjit,' Bobby grumbled. 'Sam doesn't need any help in looking after Chelsea, trust me. Those two are having a right old time, while everything's gone to shit here.'

Athaya drifted off after that, resting until a bad feeling in her stomach woke her up. She blinked groggily, but didn't move, preferring to just listen to Dean and Bobby talk, in the hopes that she'd drift off to sleep again.

'So there was a ring?' Bobby asked.

'Yeah. What I don't get is how we could have missed it,' Dean said mournfully, and Athaya found herself agreeing. They were professionals. Shouldn't they be used to that kind of thing?

'…I've had a lot on my plate lately. A friend of mine died,' Bobby explained.

'Really? A hunter?' Dean asked.

'Yeah. Kenny Whitmore…lives up in Washington State.'

Athaya sat bolt upright, and a strangled gasp escaped her lips. Dean immediately looked to her, and Bobby glanced up from the glass of alcohol sitting in front of him.

'What?' Athaya gasped. 'No. Did you just say Kenny Whitmore?'

Bobby nodded. 'Yeah. Why? Did you know him?'

Athaya an overwhelming sadness sweep through her chest, travelling throughout her body until it turned to shock, freezing her in place. 'Know him? He was…he's the one who taught me how to hunt. I lived with him for six years. He was like a father to me…' she croaked, and found her throat extremely dry. Tears bubbled up and she let a small sob escape from her mouth. She brought a hand to cover it, trying to hold everything in. However, Athaya could not mask her grief, and shook her head fervently when Dean came to sit by her.

'No…don't,' she said. 'I can't. Oh god.' Athaya herself didn't know what she meant, but she knew that she had to be alone. She looked up at Bobby with swollen eyes. 'You're sure it was him?' she asked shakily.

'Athaya, I'm so sorry. It was definitely him. A demon, I think. Haven't had a chance to go up there myself, yet. The funeral's this Friday.'

'Right,' Athaya said dully. With everything that had happened…was happening…Athaya didn't know if she could handle this. It's too much.

And she'd bet one million dollars it had been Azazel.

Athaya felt a dark hatred pool in the depths of her stomach. She felt it bubble up and boil, like a molten rage inside her, and she knew that she was going to make the demon pay. He'd taken so much from her. Her mother, her family, her adopted father now, too.

Just as she was thinking this, Athaya felt a horrible sickening pull in her stomach. Crowley. Where was he? Why wasn't he back? Had he destroyed the ring? Was Blakely dead at last?

No. Athaya knew she'd feel it if the ghost was gone. Something else had happened. She needed to speak with Crowley. He was the only person she felt like seeing at the moment. She needed to be by herself, and she looked at Dean sadly.

'Can you…can I go somewhere alone? Please?' she asked quietly, and Dean nodded.

'Let's get you somewhere quiet,' he said and helped her sit up, posing as an improvised crutch to help her limp outside.

He took her around the back, and Athaya caught sight of the Impala. She nodded towards it, and Dean understood, unlocking the front passenger side and helping her sit down with a muffled thunk.

The entire time, Athaya held back tears. She couldn't let them escape, not when Dean was right there. She felt that she could tell him anything – especially after revealing her relationship with Crowley, but in that moment she felt like she needed to the exact opposite. She couldn't tell him. It wasn't that he wouldn't understand – it was that he would understand all toowell.

She didn't want understanding sympathy. She wanted to scream and shout and maim and kill and vent all her anger out on Azazel.

But instead of doing any of these things, Athaya murmured a 'Thanks,' to Dean, who looked at her with concern for a moment before speaking.

'I know you don't want to hear this right now, but I know how you feel.' He held his hands up in surrender as Athaya opened her mouth, and he cut her off. 'Don't worry. I'm leaving. But…just…' he looked as if he were going to say something important. But instead, after a second, he shook his head. 'Just honk when you want to come back inside,' he said eventually, and Athaya nodded mutely, turning to stare at the dash of the Impala.

As soon as Dean was out of sight, Athaya let out a tortured howl.

How can this be happening?

No, no, no, NO, NO, NO!

Athaya let everything out, sobbing uncontrollably, horribly, heartbrokenly, until she could cry no more. She had lost so much. Losing Kenny was the final breaking point. For years, she'd been on the run. It felt so long, like her entire life. It had been so long since she'd been that girl, that sixteen-year-old girl, excited and astonished at the hidden world right underneath her world.

She'd been so young and naive, to think that she could get away with making a deal with a demon and come out completely unscathed. It hadn't been Crowley's fault, not at all. It had been her fault. If she'd left her feeling alone, her brother wouldn't have wandered off and drowned, and she wouldn't have had to make a deal, and she wouldn't have doomed herself forever, drawing Azazel's attention through her efforts to make things right.

That's just stupid. Azazel would have found you even if you didn't make the deal, she scolded herself, and Athaya felt her distress spike, feeling utterly, completely helpless.

You're not helpless. You've got more than most. You know about hunting, have good friends, and you've got Crowley.

Crowley.

By now, Athaya knew something had gone wrong. Crowley was hours late for something that should have taken seconds. It was well past the time that she should try to summon him. What if Blakely had hurt him?

What if Azazel had him?

With an urgency that Athaya managed to scrounge up from somewhere in the depths of her exhausted heart, she slammed her fist on the horn, honking it as the bad feeling in her gut only worsened.

Crowley didn't like not knowing things.

Ever since he'd found out about Athaya and Crowley, the other demon had grown cocky, filled with a self-assuredness that could only come from someone who had more than one card up his sleeve.

Crowley had no idea what he was planning, and didn't have any intention of finding out. He was counting on being far away by the time Azazel revealed his plans – which he would. Azazel was a gloater, and Crowley knew that he would eventually divulge the details of his plan sooner or later.

In the meantime, Crowley contented himself with his fantasies of ripping the yellow-eyed demon limb from limb. Slowly.

Crowley didn't know exactly how he was going to free himself, but was sure he'd come up with some brilliant escape plan. He fingered the ring in his palm, still there from when Athaya had pressed it there fervently, exhausted and injured, back at Bobby's.

Crowley growled with frustration as he thought of her by herself, having to somehow get back to the house, or to call Dean. He only hoped than someone had found her before she passed out from the pain.

When Blakely had broken her leg, Crowley had felt an anger snarl inside him that he hadn't felt for a long time. Usually, when faced with an opponent, Crowley would find a calculated, safe, fool-proof way to destroy his enemy. However, seeing Athaya scream had made him disregard any thought of calculations or manipulation. All he'd wanted to do was rip the ghost apart, never mind how fundamentally impossible that was, given the spectre's corporal nature.

And so now, Crowley was struggling with the concept that perhaps – after several centuries – he had done something no one had thought possible.

He had changed.

Absolutely, he had admitted to bring Athaya's dragon and within some hidden context he may have admitted to caring for her deeply.

But he'd never said he'd loved her.

That morning, Crowley had been so caught up in Athaya, in her beauty, her radiance and her astounding ability to see through to who he really was, that Crowley had forgotten himself.

That seemed to happen whenever he was around her. After being alone for so long, it was entirely possible that Crowley had fallen in love with this mad, ridiculous girl. It was idiotic. He knew he'd get hurt. Humans only live for so long, and she had less time than most, considering Azazel and his obsession with her. True, Crowley would see her in hell – and that was where she was going. Make a deal with a demon and you're bound for hell, no matter how good or perfect you are. And Crowley would see her in hell after he saved her from Azazel. But whether she would be the same, happy girl was another matter entirely.

Athaya had said that Crowley would come to power. And it would be this power that would allow him to save her from hell. After killing her to keep her from Azazel, Crowley would then need to first of all: find her in hell, and then rescue her again. The entire concept was foreign to Crowley, who was so used to being on the opposite end of things. Never saving, always destroying.

And now that Azazel had finally resurfaced, after all these years…it wasn't looking good. Crowley could send Athaya to hell, rescue her from the clutches of Azazel, but that didn't mean he'd be able to save her from hell itself. He didn't have enough power. Not yet, anyway.

This is what Crowley worried about as Azazel attempted to glean more information from him. After accidently revealing his affections for Athaya, Crowley no longer trusted himself to keep secret any other snippet of information that might improve Azazel's situation even more. Crowley didn't know what to do, exactly, and so played with the ring in his hand, running his fingers over and over it until a thought occurred to him.

He still had Athaya's ring.

In his pocket, Crowley had Athaya's ring from where he'd taken it from her, and then snuck up behind her when Azazel had first appeared. The other demon hadn't thought to take it from him yet, and here, Crowley saw an opportunity. It had been a while since he'd seen the ghost, and Crowley was sure that with a little prompting, Blakely could be convinced to make an appearance.

Surreptitiously, Crowley used his knee to shift his jacket's left pocket, painfully pulling his leg up to nudge to pocket until the opening was facing the ground, the wrong way up. As his hands were still shackled, Crowley had to make do with using his leg, and was satisfied when the ring dropped out with the tiniest of plinks.

Azazel didn't seem to notice, as his back was turned, speaking to the wall.

'I still don't understand why you like her. She's only a human. Well…not even that. Not anymore. And certainly not after I've finished with her,' Azazel gloated and Crowley resisted the urge to snap something in response. It would only draw attention to his movements. Instead, Crowley eyed the keys to his shackles that he could see lying on a table on the other side of the room. He just needed to get to them, and he'd be free.

'And what's more, you have no idea that you've already ruined her life. You made a deal with her – for what, I don't know – but she's going to hell,' Azazel spun lazily to face Crowley and he hid Athaya's ring under his palm. 'Your dear, sweet little princess is going to spend eternity being tortured in the very depths of the furnace. You might have promised to protect her, but not even you can protect her from that. By making a deal, you sealed her fate. Don't you feel just the tiniest bit guilty?' Azazel asked, and Crowley did his best to ignore him, knowing that the yellow-eyes demon was only baiting him.

'No guilt here. I'm not worried about it,' Crowley lied, sliding the ring so that it was just at the tip of his finger. 'In fact…if we're talking about worry…I definitely think it's a condition that you'll be experiencing fairly soon,' Crowley smiled.

Azazel's own grin dropped, and Crowley spurted a quick torrent of Latin, grinning as he felt the temperature drop and the light-bulb on the ceiling flickered eerily. Seconds later, the spectral form of Thomas Blakely appeared in the corner of the room, and Azazel spun to face the ghost.

'You again?' he snarled, and grunted as the ghost flung Azazel backwards against the wall.

Now, it might have been that following reason, Blakely would have gone for Crowley first – seeing as he was summoned by him. But, since Crowley decided at the very moment that the ghost appeared to slip Athaya's invisibility ring on, Blakely materialised to find only Azazel in the room, and so attacked him instead of Crowley.

Crowley watched with satisfaction as Azazel weighed his opponent heavily before cursing and disappearing, opting to escape and come back for Crowley later, rather than deal with the slighted spirit. As soon as Azazel was gone, Crowley slipped the invisibility ring off his finger.

'You and I need to talk, Thomas,' Crowley said quietly, and watched as a snarl of anger formed over the mutilated ghost's face.

Crowley stood up slowly and made sure he kept a fair distance between himself and the ghost. 'Can I talk to you? I just need to level. Demon to ghost. I mean, I am a demon, right? I know murder. Murdering Charlotte Sanders? That was a dodgy job, and you know it.' Crowley saw a flicker of rage pass over Thomas's face and he smiled. 'Furthermore, after you'd been killed for your crimes, you continued murdering girls in the same way? Some things you've just got to let die, mate – no irony intended.' Crowley's smile grew as he saw the ghost become more and more agitated.

Come on. Let's dance.

Crowley waited until the ghost threw himself forwards, enraged by Crowley's insults, and he dodged to the side as Blakely promptly passed through the wall behind him. In the few seconds that he had, Crowley shot over to the table on the other side of the room, and grabbed a pair of keys that Azazel had left there. Undoing the shackles. Crowley spun, holding them aloft just as Blakely came back through the wall.

As soon as the ghost came into contact with the metal, he screamed and vanished.

'Pure iron, you malicious git,' Crowley spat at the air, and grinned to himself. That gave him some time, now. His smile increased as he felt as familiar tug as he was summoned by somebody. Crowley was willing to bet it was Athaya.

'Hold on, Princess. I've just got some business to take care of,' he said to himself, and vanished.