Chapter 21: Call to Arms

From the Journal of Bobby Winchester

I stood beside Crowley on a balcony that jutted out from the palace, overlooking our kingdom. A crowd sprawled out before me, necks straining to look up at us. They knew something was wrong. Could see it in the armor I wore and the frown cutting across Crowley's face. The light glinted sharply from my armor and I raised my spear high, catching their attention. Silence descended over them. It was not like the silence of a crowd of living things. There was no breath, no discomforted fidgeting. Silence.

"My people," I extolled, voice booming across them. They did really seem like my people. My responsibility. And I would be damned if Zeus would enslave them out of jealousy and spite. The last time I had had to protect someone I had failed. This time would be different. I was excited though. Imagine that, excited for war.

"An enemy rises from the land of the living." My voice echoed, "We in our haven are yet untested. I built walls around you, I wanted to protect you from every assault, but I fear…I fear it will not be enough. If we are conquered we will fall to ruin and torment."

I took one step forward, all that the balcony would allow and I jutted my spear at them and snarled, "But we will not lie down at their feet. We will not surrender our lands. We will fight!"

A great cheer rose up from them spilling across Hell's chasm. They stamped their feet and snarled. They were not timid. They were not afraid.

Crowley put his hand on my wrist and I looked back at him. He nodded once, a smile tipping his face.

XXXX

From the Journal of Bobby Winchester

The training began at once. Hell itself equipped them with black armor rimmed in gold. They all marched. The men, the women and the children. The old and once infirm. Their strength was no longer that of their bodies and all took up the swords and glimmering spears Hell provided.

I was proud, as I watched them swing and stab as one. Proud of the fire the burned through them.

I had selected captains, divided their ranks, posted guards at the walls. But Hell's growls and the stories my father had told me had given me another idea. One that I would need my King for.

Crowley was easy to find. He was in his office, as he always had been, of late, bent over long reports that had been sent back to him from the spies he had sent out. As it happened, he was quite good at intrigue.

"Crow, I need you."

He barely looked up, "Now, Bobs?"

"Yeah, now, don't worry, this will be a worthy break."

He looked up at me and made a lazy hand gesture for me to explain.

"Trust me, Crow! I have something big planned. And I can't do it alone. The whole plan rests on you!"

"Darling, you seem to be so used to everyone jumping to your command you might be forgetting that I won't." he spoke with a harsh snarl.

I laughed at him. For the first time, he looked all the way up from the scrolls in front of him and he regarded me. I rushed his desk and slid across it, knocking the scrolls to the ground and landing atop him, my knees on the arm rests of his chair, pressing his shoulders against it with my hands. I grinned predatorily down at him.

"You look stupid jealous. Come with me."

He gripped me by the ankles and stood, knocking me onto my back on the desk. Agilely I flipped backward and landed on my feet atop his desk, laughing. "Come on, Crow."

"Alright, you win." He conceded, "lead on."

I leapt down from the desk and held out my hand, he took it and gave me a defeated sort of look. "I wasn't giving you an order, you know."

"You remind me of your father."

"Shut up."

XXXXX

From the Journal of Bobby Winchester

I led Crowley to the outer rim of Hell, to its back wall where the golden flowers gave way to rocks and crevices.

I held out my hand to stop him and looked down at the cold ground beneath me.

"What are we doing out here?"

"I have an idea."

I lifted my hands and concentrated and Hell cracked beneath me, a deep ravine arcing down into the blackness. I turned to him, "So, spill your blood."

"What?"

"We had a deal, Black Eyes, open your veins." I paused to give him a rough smile, "That's an order." I held a knife out to him.

He took it with an angry sneer and, pushing back his sleeve, cut open the flesh of his forearm. The blood spilt bright and red, curling around his arm and dripping into the darkness.

Down deep in the ravine light sparked, a thin tongue of flame that painted the rock. A harsh and angry color that hell had not yet seen. A sharp break rent the stillness and the red light careened up at us.

"Do better, Crow!" I shouted to him about the whooshing of the flames. "What do you want!?"

His eyes were intense and focused on the pit, I watched his breath quicken and his fists clench. The flames reflected in his dark eyes and a mad grin cut his face. I laughed brightly.

Growling churned from the depths, scrabbling against the rocks. Howls echoed up, and broken scraping. It grew louder. I stomach hurt from exuberant laughter.

Over the lip of the ridge beasts crawled from the depths, long, thick claws, snarling mouths. The largest made it over the edge first. Body as big as a car, three heads whipping back and forth. It stalked toward us and snapped its teeth and stopped. The great hound stopped, its breath hot against our skin and nuzzled the middle of its three heads against Crowley's chest, growling sedately. The other hounds leapt to the walls, scrabbling up them vertically and dropping into the wastes beyond. I laughed with excitement and swung around to look back at Crowley.

His hand was resting on the dog's middle head and he was smiling languidly at me. "You were designed to laugh, kitten."

I furrowed my brow at him, "I spend half my life laughing at you, Hade."

"I know you do." He said it fondly, with soft eyes.

I strode over to him and put my hand out to the dog's right head, it sniffed me and growled tenderly. I scratched its ears and grinned at Crowley.

His eyes slid over me slowly, "This didn't help you."

I tipped my head back and laughed again, "Of course it did."

"It tainted your control of Hell."

"Nah," I dismissed, "It strengthened Hell. So it's good for me. When are you going to stop being a short sighted demon idiot and realize we work better as a team." I slugged him in the shoulder.

"Would you consider not hitting me like we are football buddies."

"No." I laughed and slugged him again, "Come on, is there some rule that I can't hit you when you're being an idiot and laugh at you and still kiss you?"

He looked at me for a moment, "There sort of is."

I wanted to laugh at him again but I didn't. I raised a single eyebrow elegantly and shifted my weight onto one foot, my hand resting on my hip. I gave him my best haughty, queenly look. "I'm not sure if anyone told you, but I'm the Queen of Hell. I write the rules."

He wrapped his fingers around the lip of my armor where it met my neck and he pulled me forward. I tipped forward and kissed him. "Crowley!" I laughed, leaning backward, "You're the father of Hellhounds."

He gave me an off centered grin through his beard and laughed low in his throat, his head tilted back. "Yes I am."

XXXXX

From the Journal of Bobby Winchester

I was so young. I haven't stopped to remember all this in so long and by his majesty Time, I was young. I choked down everything dark so easily. They were a drug, living people, dead people, people were a drug. Remembering, it was like I wasn't quite clear headed, I had gotten high and stayed there, laughing and leaping around like I was wild. God, I was excited for the war. Did I not consider fields covered in blood? Boys torn down in their prime. Girls ripped screaming from their beds? Of course I didn't. I was so young. Crowley too, he was so young, he didn't seem so at the time, of course, but he was, just so young.

I've always thought that in those days Crowley must have just been putting up with me. I was so crazed and so aimless. It wasn't until later that we became what we really were. Then he was all ambition and I was just hungry. But maybe that's what he wanted, he wasn't what he would be yet either, after all.

Those things you're supposed to learn, how to act around someone who calls you magnificent, were supposed to be taught while I was learning how to strip a can open with a blunt knife. Sometimes, it felt like Crowley was the only thing that was really real. He had been the only person for so long. Sometimes, it was like everybody else was an illusion and they would just glitter away and it would be me and him, eating old cans of non-perishable food, legs tangled in the bunker, speaking a language only we cared to remember.

AN: Sorry about the long awaited and very short chapter. A new one is coming up soon I hope #weekend?