Like a Rose
Dean threw in the laundry, after taking a second glance at one of Valkyrie's underwear, and leaned against the machine as it began washing the clothes. As he stood there, he continued thinking about her. He needed her with him and he was wondering if she felt the same. Lately, since she returned, it's been different, as if they both wanted to hold onto each other a little more tightly. The way she looked at him made him think she felt the same.
He tried not to think of her as more than his friend, his former self, but she understood him better than Sam, as cruel as that was to think. Through tough times, she was there and he never needed to really talk about things; she just knew. Yeah, she wasn't his subconscious anymore, but she still seemed to understand him like no one else.
Dean took out his cell phone and looked at Valkyrie's number. He promised her he would call her, but what would he say? She meant so much to him; he didn't want to lose her and he wasn't sure if he wanted to move their relationship to another level. It seemed weird, but it also felt alright. Shouldn't he be with someone who understood him? Who would support him, but also call him on what he was doing wrong? Who could hold their own in this lifestyle and have his back? Out of all the women he knew, Valkyrie was the best for him. However, it was still very odd that she was once a part of him, which would probably be the reason their relationship never moves forward.
He touched her name on his iPhone and then the call button. He placed his phone to his ear and listened to the line ring as he thought of whether to be honest with her or just brush it off like he always did. Did he plan on telling her anything or was he just going to go with the flow?
He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard her voicemail. He was about to leave her a message, but he knew there was something wrong. Why would she let it go to voicemail? What was she doing that was so important? Clearly not stupid basic cable shows.
He decided to wait a minute or two and try again. When he got her voicemail once more, he didn't dare stand still. He left the laundry mat as fast as he could and once in the Impala, he floored it to the hotel room. All his worries seemed to flow like a flood in his mind. Did she fall in the shower and knock herself out? Did she trip and hit her head? Did someone break in and take her? Or worse, kill her? Was it a human looking for easy money or was it an angel?
Then, it hit him: was it Crowley?
He tightened his hands on the steering wheel and narrowed his eyes on the road as he bolted down the street. Once he got to the hotel room, he cut the engine and didn't bother taking the keys with him. He rushed to the door and threw it open, seeing no one inside. The salt hadn't been disturbed, but her stuff was still there.
Dean stepped in for a better look and when he checked out the bathroom, he then saw the disturbed salt at the window and beneath it on the floor. Crowley entered through the bathroom and took Valkyrie. From what he saw, there was no struggle, but it didn't make him feel any better. She would be gone for three hours and she was unprepared, not to mention vulnerable. She had nothing with her.
He looked around, missing her already, feeling guilty. He should have never agreed with Crowley to spend some time with her, but it was all he wanted. What else was he supposed to do?
It was then that he realized that yes, he did love her. Not necessarily in the sense that he wanted to go to the next level with her, but that he cared deeply for her. She meant so much to him; he loved her. She was always there for him, but he asked himself; in dealing with Crowley, was he there for her?
Looking at the empty hotel room was the answer to his question. He let her down. He wasn't there for her. She was currently in the hands of the King of Hell; the worst place where she could be, besides dead.
He owed her big time and he had no idea what he was going to do for her. It was probably a good idea that he tell her how much she means to him.
In the meantime, Crowley had his demons bring her some water and a full course dinner with some decadent treats. She had a creamy broccoli soup as an appetizer and a Caesar salad as an entrée. The main course was mashed potatoes with gravy, a succulent medium rare steak with roasted mushrooms and steamed carrots. Then, her dessert was a creamy chocolate pudding. It was a feast let alone a dinner! The smell made her stomach growl and it looked amazing, but she wouldn't eat until Crowley explained himself to her. What did he mean by "he was invested"?
Crowley stared at her, as if interested in her next move, which annoyed her.
"What are you saying by 'invested'?" she asked and he continued to stare at her. "Do you know who resurrected me?" she asked and he sat forward in his chair, meeting her eyes with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
"Of course I do," Crowley said and then his lips twitched into a dark and sinister grin. "It was me." he added and Valkyrie stared at him in a stunned silence. She tried to understand how and why, but her mind was blank.
"You?" she asked and his grin remained. When she couldn't bring herself to form a theory, she decided to simply ask him. "Why?" she asked and his grin then turned into a dark smile.
"Dean was such a bore with you dead." Crowley said and Valkyrie wasn't sure she was hearing right. "I helped him find the rings to lock Lucifer away and he did. My gratitude was expressed when I snapped my fingers, signed a stack of papers, and had you crawl out of the ground." He added and she had to shake her head.
"You brought me back to say 'Thanks for shoving Lucifer back in the box'?" she asked and Crowley simply grinned at her. "Why would you do that?" she asked and then, as she met his eyes, began stuttering. "I – uh, mean thanks, but why would you care?" she asked. "Not that I believe that's the real reason." She added, trying to look like a tough hunter.
"You're intriguing. A subconscious mind has never separated from someone's mind before. Having that subconscious mind become a real person… that's interesting." He replied with a dark glimmer in her eyes, making her feel unnerved.
"An angel did that. What's the real reason, Crowley?" she asked him. They stared at each other, as if it was a battle of wills, until his lips slowly curled into a dark grin. Another chill ran down her spine and she tried to hide it.
"An angel turned you into a real girl. But what about your soul?" he asked and she remained silent. "You no doubt have a suspicion of Dean's affections for you." He said and she frowned.
"No changing the subject. What about my soul?" she asked and Crowley's dark grin turned to a dark and sinister smile.
"You don't have one, Darling." He replied and she was lost for words. "It occurred to me when I first saw you that something set you apart. Later, I discovered that Michael didn't want to use you because you had no soul; a soulless vessel seems to frighten him. Michael killing you seemed strange to me and your death's impact on Dean was interesting. Resurrecting you was my favorite project." He said and smiled in a brief silence. "Most say that when one is compassionate, they have a good soul. You are the only soulless person I've seen with compassion." He concluded, smiling at her.
Valkyrie was eerily silent, thinking of the fact that she doesn't have a soul. It didn't make sense to her, but nothing about her existence made sense. She brushed it off, only to have it hit her hard with a reality check; Death wanted her dead. Did he know she had no soul?
A part of her was prepared to let Death take her back to the other side if it meant Sam and Adam were sprung out of the cage. However, leaving Dean again… she couldn't do that, especially since Crowley said he loved her. Maybe Crowley could help stop Death. It was a stretch, but it could be worth telling the King of Hell.
"Earlier," she began, surprised to see Crowley staring at her as if he was really interested in hearing what she had to say. "Castiel told me Death will only help Sariel save Sam and Adam if he can figure out who resurrected me and then he'll take back my… I don't know what since I don't have a soul, apparently." She said and part of her cringed, fearing what Crowley would say.
He stared at her in silence, but there was a hint of a dark grin on his lips.
"And you want me to prevent that." He replied and she hesitantly nodded her head. "What do I get out of it?" he asked and she froze, stunned. "I'm left exposed if Death knows I resurrected you. He's Death." Crowley said with emphasis. "We might now have souls, my Dear, but I do have red smoke that Death could blow out." he concluded. As much as it seemed Crowley was about to say no, Valkyrie didn't want to give up. Maybe Dean wasn't the only one with affections for her. And yes, yet again, this was a stretch.
"You're King of Hell; there's nothing you can't do." Valkyrie said, as if trying to convince him he was just as powerful as the Horseman.
"Flattery won't get you far, Darling." He replied and she shifted nervously in her chair.
"Listen, after all you've done to bring me back, you'd let Death snuff the life out of me?" she asked and Crowley just stared at her, his expression difficult to read. She tried for a pouty lip without looking like a pouting child, but she doubted anything she did was working.
"I have to admire your tenacity." He said and she wasn't sure that meant he'd help.
"I'm open to negotiations." She said, although she was certain negotiating wasn't one of her skills. Valkyrie just wanted Crowley to help; his price had to be better than Death's. And yet, as she fought to live, part of her made her feel guilty. What if Crowley helped her? Would that mean Death wouldn't help Sam and Adam?
"You believe you have something I want?" he asked and she nodded her head. "And what would that be?" he asked out of curiosity.
"You said it yourself; you find me intriguing. Clearly, you wouldn't want me to die; your hard work gone to waste." She said and Crowley's lips twitched, as if he was fighting a grin. "Name your price." She said and his lips slowly broke out into a smile.
"Tenacious indeed." He said and leaned forward with a dark glimmer in his eyes that made her wonder if she had done the right thing. "Well, we do have a couple of hours together." He said and then, against her will, she could imagine what he meant by that statement.
Valkyrie found it hard to avert her eyes from that demon lust in his eyes.
"Fine, but I'm drawing the line at a few things." She said and his lips curled back into a dark grin. She might be soulless, but that didn't mean she couldn't feel pain.
"Let the negotiations begin." He said. Valkyrie's food was cold by now, but she wasn't hungry anyway. How could she when she was negotiating sex with the King of Hell and in doing so, she might have traded Sam and Adam's freedom for hers.