Bobby stood scowling at the monster – this King of Hell – standing in front of him. He had always considered Crowley more annoying than a threat, always popping up at the worst moments, messing with plans and being a nuisance in general. Even after Crowley had locked him in a lonely dungeon in the pits of hell, making Bobby relive the false hope of rescue, he still couldn't really hate the demon. But after what he had done to Dean – to his boy – well, that was unforgivable.

Crowley stared back at Bobby, looking nonplussed at his glare. He let out a melodramatic sigh, his lips quirking upward in a mischievous, almost flirtatious, grin. "And here I was hoping for a warmer welcome. After all, we used to be so close, Bobby. I did own your soul at one point."

Bobby let out an indignant snort, his own lips twisting into a sneer. "Well?" he barked, his eyes narrowed and demanding an explanation.

"What?" replied the demon, widening his eyes in mock innocence.

"Don't 'what?' me, Crowley," hissed Bobby. "You know what the hell I'm talking about. What have you done to Dean..."

"Dean did that to himself," interrupted Crowley, his mouth pinching into a frown as he abandoned his teasing facade.

"And you had nothin' to do with it?"

"I may have encouraged him a bit," Crowley admitted, ignoring the groan that Bobby let out. "I may have taken him to Cain..."

"Cain!?"

"Yes, as in that Cain. So I may have taken him there, I may have introduced him to the opportunity, but he was the one who took it. I'm a demon, after all, Bobby. I'm supposed to lead others into temptation."

"Balls," growled Bobby, roughly rubbing his hand over his beard.

The demon grinned. "How I missed hearing you so that," he cooed.

"Crowley..." Bobby warned.

"Fine, fine. Long story short, Dean took on the Mark of Cain, got "ganked", as he so often elegantly phrases it, by Metatron and woke up as a Knight of Hell, and now we are rampaging across heaven, or will be shortly."

"Balls..."

"Ah, music to my ears."

Bobby turned from Crowley. His eyes wandered to the ceiling. He could hear the tell-tale creak of the floor boards overhead as Karen paced their room. This was supposed to be their perfect heaven, the place where they could be together and safe, and danger still showed up, standing right there in their living room. He mind wandered to the demonic version of Dean that was just outside doing who knows what. And where was Sam? Was he safe? Bobby passed his hand warily across his eyes and then bit his lip.

"Why?" he asked the demon, his voice tired as his eyes traveled back to the demon.

Crowley shuffled for a moment and then let out a huff. "Fine! No, this is not going according to my plan. I...I didn't necessarily mean for Dean to become this. It...it wasn't what I wanted." He turned away, his shoulders slumping.

Bobby rocked backward on his heels, his eyebrows shooting upward. "What's happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" retorted Crowley, his voice sounding defensive.

"You seem almost...nice."

Crowley let out a derisive snort. "That's because your darling boys stuffed me full of human blood and now I can't get rid of all of these damned feelings and all that rot." He waved his hands dramatically in the air. Bobby just stared at him incredulously. "They – they tried to cure me," Crowley continued in a quieter voice.

"Cure you?"

"To make me human again," the demon grumbled, making a show of grimacing, but Bobby caught the flicker of some other emotion pass across his face.

"You want to be human again!" Bobby said in surprise, staring at Crowley as if really seeing him for the first time.

"Why does it have to sound like an accusation? Like 'Shame on you, Crowley! Go sit in the corner and think about what you have done!' Because I have been thinking about what I have done! I can't stop thinking about it..." His voice trailed off, sounding slightly shaky.

Bobby stood watching him, uncertain how exactly to react to that. Crowley, the biggest thorn in his side, was standing there in front of him, an emotional mess. He waited for the moment when Crowley would switch back to his normal self, all snide wit and snaky glances, but minutes ticked by (or whatever they did in an eternal heaven), and Crowley still stood there looking shaken and confused. Bobby sighed.

"I..." Crowley stopped and cleared his throat. He tilted his chin upward and attempted to appear dignified. "I did actually miss you, you know."

"Oh for heaven's sake!" snapped Bobby.

Crowley sniffed. "Well, I did."

"I think I like you better as a pompous ass," muttered Bobby.

Crowley shot him a coy look. "So you like my ass?"

"That is not what I said," Bobby replied, secretly feeling relieved that the demon was getting some of his spunk back.

"So, now that we're friends again..."

"I was never your friend!"

Crowley cleared his throat and continued. "So now that we've 'kissed and made up', metaphorically speaking,"he joked, smirking as Bobby growled at him. "You'll help me, right?"

"Help you what?"

"Fix the mess I made," Crowley answered, his face suddenly deadly serious. "You'll help me save, Dean."