"Crowley?" Dean repeated, confused, holding Sam's limp body.
"Crowley." Cas murmured, frowning.
"My wee sausage did this to the giant?!" Rowena also frowned.
Dean glared at her, pulling Sam tight against him. "What the hell are you doing here...witch?" He really wanted to call her bitch. But "witch" would do.
"Takin' better care of your brother than you, that's for certain!" she said tartly, tossing her head haughtily.
Dean gritted his teeth. "Oh, yeah. That's why I find him looking like death warmed over. Your 'care'."
She flared angry nostrils at him. "Oh, and I suppose your gentle love is why he ran to me for trainin', then!"
He wanted to beat the smugness off her face. He settled for baring his teeth in a silent snarl. He laid Sammy back down on the floor, smoothing his hair back, leaned back on his heels. He caught sight of a pillow on the floor, leaned over, grabbed it, and stuffed it under Sam's head. What the hell had happened to him?
"What happened?" He glared at Rowena, sure that, no matter what Sam had said, Rowena had a hand in it.
She frowned down at Sam. She started to say something, paused, bit her lip. She actually looked concerned, Dean noted. Finally, she said slowly, "I am not quite sure. Just days ago, my son had blocked us from summoning him. I still dinna know how!" She sounded frustrated. Dean raised skeptical eyebrows.
"So, what...you just wanted a happy little family chat?" he asked sardonically.
She glared at him, folding her lips tightly. "Och, no, y'bloody bampot! He had cut Samuel off, no more blood, and the giant was sufferin' - "
Dean held up a hand, shook his head, confused. "Wait a minute. No more blood? There were fifty kazillion demons swarming this town. They kicked us out, just before the storm hit. It would be like a damned breakfast buffet for the kid, demons everywhere."
Rowena rolled her eyes, got up, perched on the edge of the bed. "Blithering idiot!" she snapped. Then she sighed, looking at Sam with sad eyes. "Och. He probably didn't have a chance to tell you, what with y'kickin' him out and all - "
"'Kicking him out' - ?!" He drew in an angry breath. "Dammit, you skanky bitch, he stormed out - "
"Oh, yes, after a knock-down fight with you, mister bleedin' hero!" she snarled. "Pickin' on your younger brother like a bully!"
He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head sharply in disbelief. "Woman, he's twice my goddamned size!" Well. Not really. Just huge, that was all.
Rowena tossed her head again, sniffed scornfully. "You and your saintly, righteous prejudice" - she rolled the "r" grandly - "against folk with the power! It's no wonder he skedaddled as fast as he could! Throwin' a fit, just because he was caught up in a nasty scheme from both Lucifer - that angelic toddler! - and my son - "
He interrupted again. "Yes. Your son. You said he 'cut Sam off'. Explain." He narrowed his eyes at her.
"Will y'STOP INTERRUPTIN'?!" she screeched with frustration. He drew his head back, held up placating hands, kept silent, except for a murmured, "Whoa!" He was sure that if looks could kill, her glare would have murdered him ten times over. She was huffing with anger, and regarded him with tightly folded lips for a few moments, waiting for him to start talking again. When he stayed quiet, she finally snapped, "Thank you! As I was sayin'..." She stopped and eyed him suspiciously again. He kept his mouth shut. She continued, "...my son cut him off." Dean opened his mouth, and she held up a graceful, commanding hand. He shut it again, fuming. "Because 'twas my son's own blood, d'you see. Not blood from any old demon. His own." Dean frowned. "And, apparently, Fergus's blood is something special these days, God knows why," she added acidly. Then she shrugged, made a small grimace. "Och. 'Tis probably because he was the King of Hell, and is still the King of the Crossroads. It affected Samuel that much more. And was harder to control. So after he started the lightning storm..." She shrugged again. "He needed help learnin' to control it. So he came to me."
Cas, who had been standing quietly watching and listening, murmured thoughtfully, "That would be why he misdirected us. And why the demons - "
"Why the demons kept us away from Marion. Yes. Because he told them to," Dean said slowly, nodding his head. "So Crowley's blood is like 100 proof alcohol to Sam." Rowena nodded. He realized, with a sinking feeling, that he had allowed himself to forget that Crowley's main - often only - concern was Crowley's own welfare. That the Crowley he had come to...almost like...was not a friend, was, at best, a frenemy. That the charm and snark and suit covered a devious, manipulative demon who worked on so many multiple levels that it could be mind-boggling.
"Why?" he croaked. They looked at him. He cleared his throat, clarified, "Why would Crowley want Sam in - under his thumb like that? And what the hell is wrong with Sam, anyway?!"
As if his name were a signal, Sam stirred and murmured. They all turned their heads to look at him. He stirred again, stretched, sat up woozily. He was immediately surrounded by three worried faces, all talking at once.
Later, after the chatter, after the hugs from Dean and Cas, after the stumbling, stuttering apology for flaming out at him from Dean, after dinner at the local Biggerson's, and drinks, as they were all leaving to let him rest some more, he grabbed Rowena's elbow, held her back. Dean had grumbled at his insistence on keeping the small rented room, rather than joining him in the motel, but had accepted the lame reasons Sam gave him with grace, and he and Cas had just left, disappearing down the hallway.
"I need to talk with you," he said. He still felt exhausted, and the need was starting up again, dammit.
Rowena turned to him with eyebrows up. "Aye? What is it, giant?"
"Crowley."
She grimaced. "Oh." She sounded ever so slightly disappointed. He frowned at her.
"He stole my power," he said bluntly. He hadn't said a word about that to Dean and Cas, had let them believe his condition was a side-effect from the addiction and Crowley cutting him off.
Her eyes widened. She mouthed "stole your power" as if it were in another language, then abruptly seized his hand, dragged him further into the room, kicking the door closed behind herself with a dainty foot. She thrust him down to sit on the bed, and stood before him, frowning.
"It sounded like you said 'he stole my power'," she said incredulously.
"I did."
She sank slowly down onto the bed beside him, staring into space, thinking. Then she turned to him and asked, almost angrily, "How in the world could he do that?! 'Tis impossible!"
"We thought it was impossible to block a summoning," he pointed out dryly. She opened her mouth, paused, then nodded wordlessly.
Sam's mouth twisted. "He - he kissed me - " He flushed angrily, drew a long breath, continued, " - and then he - " He waved a wordless hand in frustration, trying to come up with words to describe it. "Pulled. He pulled it out. It was like he...hooked into it, somehow, and yanked, and it went out. Out of me. Into him." He clenched his fists on his thighs, remembering the act, the pain, the theft. "It hurt," he said baldly. "Very...very badly."
She stared blindly at him. "Soooo. Och, he is gettin' very creative all of a sudden." She waved a hand at Sam's angry movement. "Yes, yes, 'tis horrible, of course. But, still. Very creative. Interesting."
He hissed out an angry breath, seized her bird-like wrist, dug his fingers in. "I don't care if it's 'interesting'. I am never - do you hear me? - never going to let something like that happen again."
She huffed. "Och, aye, Samuel, I do understand that. But what exactly d'you expect from me?"
He glared at her through narrowed eyes. "He...held me down. Held my power down. With something like - like tendrils of his own power. How do I do that?"
She pursed her lips, thought a few moments. "That I do know how to do, and can teach you - "
"Good." His voice was hard. "You mentioned a spell to make the detox from demon blood go quicker."
She nodded.
"I want you to cast that spell on me. And when it's done, when I'm free of his damned hold on me..." He paused. She tilted an inquiring eyebrow up. He ground out, "Then I'm going find a way to kill him."
She smiled widely. "Ahhhh. That makes me very happy, Samuel!" she sang out.
"I'm not doing it for you," he muttered, very low. His eyes were grim, darkly shadowed. "I'm doing it for me. I don't care any more that he's...'useful'." He spat out the last word.
"No, of course not," Rowena said softly. She ran her free hand down his cheek. "He hurt you. You need revenge. And I can - and will - help." He caught her hand, brought it to his lips, kissed it. Then he dug his hands into her luxurious hair, pulled her toward him, kissed her on the lips. He twisted around, pushed her down on the bed beneath him, and tried to cleanse the memory of Crowley's lips on his, raping away his power, by focusing on her.
When Charlie was done taking careful pictures of each page of the book, Doli almost snatched it back. She held it cradled in her arms, and said, "Now I return it to where it belongs."
Charlie frowned. "You're not going alone!" she protested.
Doli looked at her gravely. "I can go much faster by myself."
"Besides, someone already knows where its hiding place is! Maybe you should find another!" She was determined.
The Reaper folded her lips, slightly exasperated. "I will surround it with warding to protect it from theft."
Charlie shook a finger at her. "Well, in my not so humble opinion, you should do both! Put it someplace else than behind that waterfall! Anyone who's read any fantasy, or played any D&D - watched any swashbucklers! - will be looking for places like that, right away! The dude who stole the book - or girl - whatever! - isn't going to be the only one!"
Doli was getting truculent, looking like she was ready to dig her heels in. "There has been only one attempt in nearly a thousand years - "
Charlie raised her voice. "Yes, well, the Hunter community knows about it now - and the demons, because Dani! Trust me, I know - there will be more people looking for it now, darn it!" She paused, waved her hands, pushed her short red hair back behind her ears, tried to sound more authoritative. "I can help. We can find a new spot. We'll move the box - you can surround it with those warding sigils of yours - it'll be safe again!"
Doli glared at her, then looked to Dani, who had been watching with amusement, for help. Dani shrugged. "Don't look at me. For what it's worth, Charlie is right about word leaking out. Oh, not right away. But sometime, soon-ish, one of us will let it slip, and the person or people who hear will let it slip..." She shrugged again.
The Reaper stood silent and abnormally still for a full few minutes. Charlie kept quiet. Dani watched, still amused. Finally:
"Very well. I will take you with me. We will find a new hiding place." She reached out, grasped Charlie's shoulder, and they abruptly disappeared.
"Well!" Dani raised her eyebrows, gave the empty air an amused grimace, and plopped down on her sofa.
Fun while it lasted, but there were too many people here. And where's Crowley?
~~guests are like fish. longer than a day or two and they begin to stink. and i have no idea where pb is.~~
Dani snorted.
And Charlie is off to Purgatory again. Somehow, having gotten to know that odd Reaper, and knowing they did okay before, I'm not as worried this time.
~~good girl.~~
Don't be condescending.
Innie-Me projected an image of herself sticking out her tongue. Dani snorted again.
She stood up again, walked to the kitchen island and stared at the dirty dishes with a sour face. Then she sighed, moved forward, began collecting them and heaving them in the sink.
Wash them by hand? Use my power? Throw them out and just get new ones?
~~la-di-da! toss 'em out?! sheesh.~~
You can't tell me that every person confronted with an unusual amount of dirty dishes doesn't have that same exact thought.
~~weeeellll...~~
Dani grinned. Then she felt the soft rush of air, the tiny puffing sound that heralded his appearance behind her. She whirled around, breath catching.
He grinned, held up a bottle and two glasses. "Champagne, pet! We're celebrating! The return of the King!"
"It worked?"
"Every tiny bit, Dani-girl! Like clockwork. But, of course, I knew it would." He was practically radiating sizzling good cheer, vibrating with it. He dropped the glasses on the counter, expertly popped open the bottle, and poured. He handed her a glass, lifted his own, and clinked it against hers. "My ideas, your research, my execution. We make a good team, darling." He pulled her close with his free arm. "I assume you got the book...I waited until your guests left to come here," he murmured against her hair.
"We got the book. Charlie has translation software. She'll work on it when she gets back."
He drew his head back, peered at her. "Back? From where?"
She sighed, leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "Purgatory. Again. She and her pet Reaper. They're changing the hiding place."
He shrugged. "I don't need it any more."
She stiffened, ever so slightly. "So. You were trying to keep that Winchester guy's blood addiction going."
He nuzzled her neck. "Eh. All done now, pet. Can we stop talking about irrelevancies now?"
She held still for a moment more, then relaxed into him. "Okay," she murmured, sliding her arms around his neck. "Congratulations," she smiled up at him. "Once and future King of Hell. Just don't think I'll be moving to that nasty warehouse-turned-medieval-castle you had going," she teased. He shuddered.
"Never. The worst idea of my life. Drafty. Uncomfortable. Ugly as sin." He pulled her closer, leaned down to kiss her. Then he murmured against her lips, "You'll be happy to know you won't have to deal with Jemma any more."
She huffed out a small laugh. "Thank the dark lord. Hated her."
"With good reason. Turns out she was the leader of that secret cabal you found."
She jerked her head back, surprised. "Really?! Hunh. I'm amazed she had enough brains - "
He laid a finger across her lips, silencing her. "Shhhh. No more irrelevancies, remember?" He snapped his fingers, and they were in her bedroom. "We celebrate."
When Sam shared his plan to have Rowena cast the detox acceleration spell on him, he wasn't prepared for the explosion.
"You what?!" Dean shouted. "You're going to trust that skanky, evil witch to do what?! The one who tried to kill me, and only couldn't because of the fucking Mark?! Sonovabitch. No. No and no and NO!"
"Dean, goddammit!" Sam shouted back. "I need to stop this!"
Rowena, sitting by the table in the warehouse space, peered under her eyebrows at the two of them arguing, and rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Dandy. We'll stop it. Somewhere else, away from that bitch!" Dean waved an arm to indicate anywhere in the rest of the world.
"She's helped me cope with it, Dean! She's been training me - " Sam moved closer to his brother, trying to get through.
"Oh, yeah. Training you." Dean sneered. "Training you to use that damned power shit - "
"You're doing it again, dammit," Sam said hoarsely. He shook his finger in Dean's face. "Talking down something that is part of me, almost damned in-born - "
Dean batted Sam's hand away. "It was never - never - 'in-born', you idiot! It was - was a toxic, evil, vile 'gift' from the fucking demon that killed Mom, killed Dad - remember that?!"
Sam jerked back, stiffened, face pale and stricken. Rowena judged it time to intervene. She stood up, moved to them, grabbed Sam by the arm, pulled him back. Apparently, Cas had had the same impulse: he held Dean in a similar grip, also pulling him back, saying, in a low, urgent voice, "Dean. Stop this. You two are repeating what got us to this point in the first place. Stop."
Dean yanked his arm away violently. "Get off me, Cas. Time someone knocked some fucking common sense into him - "
Sam jerked angrily out of Rowena's grasp at that, strode back, and the two were in each other's faces again.
Rowena growled, concentrated, raised her arms, and commanded, "STOP. Both of you." It was accompanied by a blast of power that froze the two where they stood. "Samuel: control!" He flicked his eyes at her, frowned, then drew in a deep breath and tried to relax himself. "And you, Winchester - stop blathering on about where his power came from! It doesna matter now, and hasn't for years, 'tis there, and the boy must learn to use it, or it will use him." Cas eyed her grimly, then nodded reluctant agreement.
Dean stood tensely, angry, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He was breathing hard, and his jaw muscle was twitching. He realized, intellectually, that what the bitch was saying was correct, but he knew the problem was that having anyone he loved use power made his skin crawl. It wasn't rational, no. But it seemed to be ingrained, hard-wired, so much so that here he was, just about to whale on Sammy again for the same thing he had apologized for so wholeheartedly just a day ago. And, dammit, him trusting Rowena to do this spell, watch over him while he struggled through drying out -
He worked his jaw, narrowed his eyes, and spat out, "Fine. I don't have to like it, though." He spun around, muttered, "Y'do what you have to, Sammy," and strode to the warehouse door, yanked it open and stormed out.
Sam stared after Dean, heart hurting. They were right back where they'd been weeks ago: he had power, Dean hated that. Not him, no, Sam knew that. But the mental block he had about power, the irrational prejudice - it was still there, still going strong. He sighed.
Cas was beside him, he realized suddenly. He laid a warm hand on Sam's shoulder, squeezed, said, "I'll try to calm him down. He loves you, Sam. Never doubt it."
Sam nodded wordlessly, a lump in his throat. He gave Cas a shaky grin. "Y'know, six years ago, you wouldn't have even comprehended what you just said, let alone said it."
Cas smiled ruefully back at him, squeezed his shoulder again. "Even angels change." He turned his attention to Rowena. "I may not like you, may not agree with your plans and schemes, but in this instance, I believe you are right. Sam needs to be free of his addiction, and having a person with power help him through drying out...well. It can only help. And he does need training." He nodded politely to her.
She gave him a coy smile. "Well! Aren't you the gentleman, now!"
He nodded again, and walked to the door. He looked back at Sam a last time, smiled gently, before he walked through.
Sam and Rowena stood silently for a while. Then Rowena said quietly, "This will hurt, y'know. Like what Fergus did."
He nodded absently, still staring at the warehouse door, face long and sad.
"But it will be over with fairly soon." She looked around the large warehouse space. "Warding. Yes. A spell to hold sound in, I believe. The walls are sturdy, should withstand any flingin' of you the wild power does." She thought some more. "A book for me to read! And food. Have you replenished the pantry, giant?"
He turned to look at her, brushed hair off his face, nodded again.
"Well, then. Shall we begin?"