Chapter Twenty-Six:

~The heart wants what it wants – or else it does not care~

Emily Dickinson

A Few Days Later

Athaya hadn't seen Crowley since their tense meeting at dinner, a few days ago. She hadn't even caught a glimpse of him. Not once.

Athaya tried to be understanding – he obviously had a lot of work. He was trying to find and stop Azazel, after all. But that didn't mean that he had to shun her completely. Not that Athaya's pride had helped. Athaya poignantly refused to knock on his study door – it was he who should apologise for being so proud and insecure, (although the irony of her own pride incapacitating her to do the same was not lost on her) and so consequently spent her days wandering about the castle, discovering all sorts of nooks and crannies that made her smile. It was like something out of a fairy tale. She'd found a secret door in one of the shelves of the library, disguised as a shelf of books, and had pulled it outwards to find a staircase leading up to a small room. Almost an attic. She spent a lot of her time up there, reading, wrapped up in rugs – there was no fireplace in the room – and looking out of the window and down at the lake, wondering if from the outside, you could see where she was.

However, it was on Friday morning that Athaya woke up and realised the truth. She was going to have to talk to Crowley. She groaned and rolled into her pillow, trying to shake the bizarre feeling that she'd had a nightmare, but couldn't quite remember what it was.

She soon dismissed the feeling and sighed, refocussing on her dilemma of Crowley, refusing to acknowledge her conundrum and the unavoidable confrontation that would take place, but eventually giving in and doing so, as she realised she owed Kenny more than this. She felt momentarily ashamed that she'd considered not going to his funeral just because she didn't want to face the king of the crossroads, and promptly scrambled out of bed guiltily, despite the absence of any physical being to scold her for her selfish thoughts. She quickly snarfed down the breakfast that Ian brought her, before briefly contemplating getting changed into a black skirt and emerald green top that she'd found in the draws of the private en suite.

Her reason for contemplation was this: Athaya had recently given her dirty clothes to Ian to wash, and was now running short, her bag's once supposedly exhaustive supply dwindling down to a pair of jeans and a few flannel shirts. However, in her room there seemed to be no shortage of clothing she could wear; all the clothes seeming to fit her perfectly, and Athaya knew Crowley had something to do with it. That was the reason she didn't wear any of the clothes provided. She didn't want to be indebted to him any more than she had to, although she supposed it was rather moot point now after the embarrassingly frequent amount of times he had aided her.

So instead, Athaya got changed into her final pair of old jeans and a flannel shirt, feeling the familiar brush of rough fabric softened by years of wear, sliding over her skin, pointedly ignoring the other clothes in the walk-in wardrobe.

There were so many clothes, however, that Athaya wondered just how long Crowley had been planning her arrival at the castle. She felt a small spark of warmth at the thought that he'd been thinking of her before the events of the last week, and then Athaya remembered the look he'd given her during dinner a few nights prior.

That look had sure been something. It had left Athaya weak at the knees, although she'd been able to convince herself that it was because she'd just recovered from a broken leg. However, she couldn't really keep the truth hidden – not from herself – and found herself remembering the heated look behind Crowley's dangerous words more and more as the days went by. Athaya could have kicked herself for being so shameless. The demon had insulted her in every way possible, taking her trust, friendship, love, and throwing it back in her face, and yet she still wanted to believe that he cared for her.

Athaya tried to keep this single thought in mind as she stood outside his study door. She'd been there for about fifteen minutes, longer than the amounted time it had taken her to actually wake up and get ready. She was stalling now, and realised that it was useless.

With an anxious heart, she raised a hand cautiously to knock on the door.

'Come in, Athaya,' came Crowley's voice from within, and Athaya complied, turning the knob and entering hesitantly.

As soon as she stepped inside, Athaya found herself once again marvelling at the splendour that was Beannacharain Castle. It was strange. Everywhere Athaya went, she found more and more things to be amazed by…

Crowley's office was lavish – and that was just a generalisation. Athaya could see the resemblance between this office and the one she'd visited when she was a child, but this one was bigger. A huge, antique barrister desk sat at the very far end and to the right, with bookshelves behind it, and Athaya saw another room further beyond that, with a large, rectangular table and chairs surrounding it. A meeting room? It would figure…Athaya supposed Crowley was a businessman, after all.

And for those first few seconds in the room, it was fine. Athaya was able to distract herself from the demon she'd come to see, as she walked through the door and into the small hall that led to the main office room. She passed a couple of paintings before she stepped into Crowley's view…Then it got hard.

As soon as Athaya lifted her eyes to meet Crowley's, she felt an idiotic spark of longing.

No. Stop this. You're here for an important reason. He's just a demon. A businessman. Make him a proposition.

Athaya realised she'd been standing there for a few minutes, and Crowley was looking over at her with a slight smirk. 'Is there something I can do for you?' he asked gruffly, and Athaya barely managed to conceal her eye-roll.

Instead, she nodded and took a deep breath, standing taller. It seemed that all she'd done lately was ask him for favours…her entire life, if she really thought about it. She wanted that to stop…but didn't know how to, and couldn't see any way out of asking for aid now.

'Today's it's Ke – ' she began, but was cut across by Crowley.

'Today is Kenny Whitmore's funeral,' Crowley said indifferently. 'And in your time of need, you have turned to your faithful demon, in the hopes of somehow finding your good self at said funeral…Yes?' he asked, and Athaya didn't even bother questioning how he knew. He was Crowley.

So, Athaya just nodded, ignoring the sting of his words and the insinuation that confirmed her worst fears: that she was entirely dependent on him. 'Yes, actually. That's precisely why I'm here,' she said as calmly as she could.

'Well good. Because you'll be going in a few hours,' Crowley said quietly, and Athaya blinked in shock. She'd expected to fight him on the matter. She'd never had guessed that he'd so readily let her attend.

Athaya shook her head in slight disbelief as her thundering heart started to slow. 'Uh…Thank you. Really. It means a lot to me…and I wouldn't have asked if it weren't – ' she began, but was once again cut off.

'But you'll be accompanied. I'm not letting you wander off somewhere to get yourself killed or found by Azazel.'

Athaya felt a twinge of unease. She wasn't sure how she felt about Crowley going with her to the funeral. He'd been so uncivil towards her lately, and she wasn't sure if she could handle that when she was trying to mourn.

'So I'd like to introduce you to David. David, this is Athaya,' Crowley said with a slight smirk, waving a hand as a tall, broad shouldered…buff man appeared in front of Athaya. She blinked in surprise.

'A body guard?' she asked in mild disgust, as she realised that Crowley had no intention of attending the funeral with her. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or insulted.

Definitely insulted.

'I'm a hunter,' Athaya protested. 'I can take care of mysel – '

'It's evident that you can't, since you've needed me to fix every single problem that you've encountered in the short time-span that has been your entire life,' Crowley interjected cruelly, and Athaya glowered at him. It was a blatant over-exaggeration, and he knew it. He stared at her evenly, almost daring her to challenge him.

'That's not true, and you know it,' Athaya bristled, despite the fact that she agreed with his words whole-heartedly. She wasn't about to tell him her fears. Instead, she gave in and met the challenge head-on. 'I can handle my own problems,' she snapped.

'Really…?' Crowley began, standing up and abandoning his work as he walked over to Athaya slowly. 'That's not very true, is it, darling? Your business is my business. Has been since you were sixteen,' he said with a slight shrug, and Athaya fought the overwhelming urge to slap him.

'Stop it,' Athaya said sharply. 'Stop this, right now. I'm not going to stand here and listen to you…to you…accuse me falsely!' She said, trying to remain emotionally indifferent and failing miserably.

Crowley seemed to pause, taking a step back slightly. After a minute, he nodded, glancing over at David for a moment. 'Fine. You want to go the funeral, I respect that. But you're taking David. End of story, or you're not going,' he said simply.

'Don't treat me like I'm a child,' Athaya retorted and then regretted it. She didn't want to fight. Not really. Not before going to Kenny's funeral. The guilt was obviously clear on Athaya's face, because Crowley remained silent, staring at her intently for a whole minute before speaking.

'I've done a lot of things, Athaya Woolfe, but I've never treated you like a child. Not back when you were sixteen, and not now. Just keep that in mind, please,' he said, dangerously calm, dark eyes sparking. Athaya felt the same chill she'd experienced during dinner the other night travel down her spine. He was entirely too close for her liking, less than a metre away, and she suddenly found herself wishing she was anywhere but here. His eyes seemed to bore into her soul, and Athaya felt her anger melt away to a dull sense of defeat.

However, the dark moment passed, and Athaya almost let out a breath as Crowley returned to his seat, picking up a sheet of paper.

'Anyway,' he said in a slightly lighter tone. 'David here will look after you from now on. It's not that I don't trust you…it's just that I don't…trust you,' he said with a smirk, and Athaya glared at him.

'Fine. When are we leaving?' she asked, and Crowley glanced up at the grandfather clock on the other side of the room.

'Four hours. Is that acceptable?' he asked, and Athaya nodded.

'It's fine. Thank you,' she said grudgingly, and Crowley smiled tightly.

'You're welcome,' he said, and then as Athaya turned to leave, he spoke again. 'There should be something for you to wear in your wardrobe,' he commented and she nodded, refusing to look at him longer than necessary. Bitterly, she swallowed all the harsh, cruel, anger-fuelled comments she wanted to make, and walked out of the study, closing the door behind her with a slam, not sparing him a second glance.

As soon as Athaya left, Crowley sank into his chair.

Gods, the woman drained him. Every time he'd seen her since their argument, she'd managed to cut him down where he stood, forcing him (or so he tried to convince himself) to resort to his classic failsafe – threats. True, they were subtle and he'd not actually put any heart into them, but Athaya wasn't an idiot. She'd seen the threats both times and had – for the most part – backed off.

And it was these small victories that made Crowley feel something he really didn't want to feel. Something he hadn't felt in years. He'd almost forgotten what it'd felt like altogether.

Guilt.

It was a scenario that – if any other person – Crowley would relate to stealing candy from a baby. Only…Crowley had done that, and felt absolutely no remorse about it. Now he definitely felt remorseful. He'd manipulated Athaya, cutting across her, never letting her get a word out as she came to simply ask to go to her adopted father's funeral. What made things worse was that she seemed to believe that his threats held some merit, and Crowley once again found himself shocked and full of self-loathing for making her feel that way.

Crowley's morose thoughts were interrupted as he looked up and realised that David was still there.

'What are you looking at?' Crowley snapped, and David swiftly glanced away, looking stoically ahead, his jaw set. Crowley waited a moment before losing his temper completely. 'What are you still doing here? You're a body guard with nobody to guard!'

David snapped out of his silent shock and nodded, disappearing in the blink of an eye, and Crowley let out an angry growl.

Damn whatever higher power was behind this entire affair.

Just before his thoughts took a more violent turn, Crowley was interrupted by a knock at the door. He glanced up from his desk and called out for the person to enter. For some weird reason, he almost hoped it was Athaya, come back to demand an apology – which in that moment, he would gladly give, if that were what she wanted. However, when Ian opened the door to announce that a crossroads demon was there to see him, Crowley felt his hopes fall. Stupid. You're not some schoolboy, eager to impress. Get a hold of yourself.

Barely supressing a groan, Crowley nodded to allow entrance. He had to work doubly hard to prevent an eye-roll when he saw who it was.

'Angela. To what do I owe the pleasure?' he inquired tightly, crossing his legs and remaining seated as a short, curvaceous woman in a tight black dress stalked in, tossing her shock of dark, long hair over her shoulder.

'The pleasure? I had no idea you cared,' she said silkily, and Crowley glared at her. 'Well then,' she bristled after catching his glance. 'I do suppose it's always business with you…But, I hope I don't have to remind you that I'm here at your own request,' she said rather obnoxiously and Crowley nodded. He'd almost forgotten he'd asked to talk to a foot-soldier.

'Of course. Apologies. Please, take a seat,' he gestured towards the table, and Angela sat, crossing her ankles and looking down before turning her sultry glance upwards.

It was going to be a long meeting.

Three hours later.

Three hours later, and Crowley was entirely convinced that he was exhibiting the most impressive amount of self-control he'd ever experienced. Of all the demons, why was it that Angela had answered the call? She was obnoxious, proud, and perhaps most horribly of all: nosy.

'I'm just not sure why you need all this information…' she mused as their meeting came to a close. 'Getting all the top-notch demons together under one roof isn't exactly what I'd call a safe move.'

'Well it's a good thing it isn't up to you, then, isn't it?' Crowley said tersely, and Angela smiled.

'Oh. I'm not concerned for my safety,' she explained, her smile almost sweet. 'I'm more worried about that little pet you've been toting around recently.'

Crowley almost froze. Almost. 'Pet?' he inquired, looking at Angela directly, in silent challenge. If she knew about Athaya, did she really want to go down this path?

'Yes. That human you've got hidden away somewhere in here.'

Apparently she did.

Crowley remained silent for a moment longer, giving Angela the opportunity to dig herself out of the hole she'd accidently fallen into. If the demon knew about Athaya, she wasn't leaving his office alive.

'Rumours are nasty things,' Angela continued. 'But don't worry. I haven't told anyone,' she assured him. 'Word might get around, that's what rumours do, but if all the people who spreadit are dead…' Angela smiled coldly. 'Well. You can see why my knowing about her shouldn't be a problem. Especially since I was kind enough to help you organise your little group in the first place. They've fully been expecting you to do something like this for quite some time now. And besides…it's just little old me. No-one else knows about her. And I made sure they didn't live for long if they did.'

Huh. A demon after my own heart. Crowley found himself not completely opposed to the idea of letting Angela live. Perhaps she could continue to be useful.

'Alright,' he said after a moment, and Angela seemed to relax. But only for a second.

'Well. When I say me…' she continued hesitantly. 'There might be a few others who are aware of the girl's existence. But – '

'Pardon?' Crowley interrupted, any charitable feelings towards the woman vanishing, and he saw Angela falter.

'What I mean to say is that the others, they – it's only the people you want to meet with anyway. They – uh – just heard about it the same way I did,' she said quickly. 'We made sure that it was only us who knew about it though. They're all dead, like I said. No one else knows. Just the eight of us.'

Eight? Eight? Crowley felt the beginnings of panic start to creep up on him. Last night, he'd been certain that the only people who knew of Athaya's location in Scotland were himself, Ian, and a few of the staff. Now, apparently eight reasonably powerful demons knew? Not to mention the body guard he'd assigned, and that had been grudgingly. His main reason for attaching David to Athaya was that Crowley didn't trust himself to be in the same room as her. He didn't know if he wanted to snap at her or kiss her. Both courses of actions would completely ruin whatever was left of their relationship, and he wasn't willing to risk that. Not yet.

But instead of letting his feelings show, Crowley managed to keep a mask of calm in place, and he merely nodded, thinking about the meeting he wished to set up. 'I expect that they'll be wanting – '

'They'll be wanting to see her? But of course. She's part of the reason that they've agreed to come. They want to see what all the fuss is about, over one human. They want to know what on earth you could want her for,' Angela said quickly, hoping to redeem herself by telling the truth.

Crowley inwardly cringed. Letting the demons see Athaya would be like hanging a juicy bone in front of a dog. Or more realistically – like dangling a heart in front of a pack of werewolves. It wasn't going to end well. He'd have to discuss it with her. Perhaps see if there was any way around it in their contract…

'So…I'll just be leaving then?' Angela inquired, seeing that she was no longer welcome. Crowley nodded, trying to ignore the horrible scenarios that were playing through his mind at the thought of Athaya amongst so many demons.

'Right. Please do,' he said distractedly.

Angela made her way towards the door, but just before she stepped out, she made sure to glance back and smile, although it didn't reach her eyes. 'I trust that you'll make sure the girl is ready when everyone arrives in a few weeks,' she said sweetly, as if she thought she were off the hook.

Not bloody likely.

When Athaya returned to her room, true to Crowley's word, a black dress was waiting in the wardrobe for her. She was painfully reminded of the time – not so long ago – when she'd been trying on dresses with him, and ignored the sad thumpingbeatthat her heart gave at the thought of the happier time. As she pulled the dress out, she saw that this one was much plainer, a simple, pretty black dress with a fitted top and sleeves that came to her elbows, the skirt belling out, coming to just above her knee. When Athaya slipped it on, she noticed that it was in fact not so plain, and from the bottom hem, small embroidered black roses travelled upwards along with the folds, almost a reverse of the stunning gown that Crowley had produced less than a week earlier. So much had changed since then.

Athaya remembered the gown fondly and searched through the rack of clothing for it in vain, hoping that perhaps Crowley had kept it for her. Apparently not. Athaya ignored the little part of her that crumbled at the realisation that he really didn't care anymore. How could he? Everything he did convinced Athaya more and more that he didn't.

Ignoring this, Athaya walked into the pristine bathroom and pulled out her bag of makeup that she'd brought with her, rejecting the more than ample supply of designer brands beneath the sink. Even though she was wearing his dress out of necessity – she didn't really have anything appropriate for a funeral – she refused to take anything more than she had to.

Athaya settled for a natural look, using the makeup sparingly. She hardly ever wore it – how could you, when your day job was hunting and killing monsters? And once she'd finished that, she begun on her hair, grimacing at the frizz that had settled in during the night. Thankfully, Crowley had provided a hair dryer and straightener, and those things she had no qualms about using.

Maybe he cared. Maybe he didn't. Athaya just didn't know anymore. Each time she saw him, she found herself believing more and more that he hated her. Why else would he act so despicably?

He's a demon for heaven's sake! He doesn't care. And neither should you.

But even as she thought this, Athaya heard a knock on the door. Stupidly, blindly, desperately, she hoped that it was him, coming to let her explain that her feelings were real, or at least apologise.

When she found David standing outside her door, Athaya felt her face fall. However, she ignored the bitter seed that planted itself in her heart and smiled tightly.

'Yes?' she inquired, and finally took in the appearance of David. He was tall. Taller than her, with light brown hair and a look of vacancy about him. He gazed directly at her, but seemed to see past her, and Athaya felt slightly uncomfortable for a moment. However, the moment soon passed as David strode past her into the bedroom and left Athaya standing at the door, slightly confused.

'Uh…What are you doing in my room?' she asked, not amused, and David turned to her after surveying the bedroom carefully.

'I'm here to escort you. It's been almost four hours,' he said, and Athaya noticed that while his voice was pleasant, it lacked character and conviction. She guessed that bodyguards didn't need character. More brute strength – and of this, David was certainly not lacking.

Athaya couldn't believe it had been four hours though. It certainly hadn't felt like it. She felt like she'd only just begun to get ready. She wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to face the truth of Kenny's death. There were still more things to do. Athaya glanced around, as if looking for some excuse to stay, but then caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked paler than normal, saw the rings under her eyes despite the makeup, saw the slight slump to her shoulders, saw the sadness that seemed to cling to every corner of her.

But she also saw that she was ready. If not emotionally, then at least physically.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking some time to remember all her happy memories with Kenny. When he'd shown her how to shoot a shotgun, when he'd told her about the lore of supernatural creatures, when he let her go with him on her first hunt.

It was these memories that kept her strong. He'd want you to go. Don't you dare pull out now. Just because he was a replacement doesn't mean you get to abandon him. She steeled herself and finally looked at David, who was staring straight at her, unnervingly, and Athaya scooped up a light, black scarf that she wrapped around her like a shawl.

'Alright. I suppose we should go then…' she began, and David walked over to her.

'May I?' he inquired, and she realised he was asking permission to transport her. Quietly, she nodded, ignoring the twang of sadness that sparked as she realised she wouldn't say goodbye to Crowley before going.

A few seconds later, Athaya found herself standing in a parking lot, the sky grey, the air cold, and the grass of the cemetery around her green. She spotted a small cluster of people dressed in black over towards the centre of the cemetery, and she quickly walked over, pulling the scarf around her a little tighter.

Let's get through this.

The funeral was simple. Only a few people aside from family had truly known Kenny, and even fewer of those who had known him, had liked him. Athaya noted with some relief that none of the funeral-attenders there were hunters, although wasn't sure whether to be sad or relieved that Bobby wasn't among them.

I'm sure he's more than a little busy at the moment she reasoned, and at the thought of him, was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling that he was doing something extremely important. She felt a headache stab viciously, and caught a glimpse of something briefly before it vanished. An abandoned town. An old bell above a well, with some kind of pattern carved into it. A tree?

Whatever it was, knowing that Bobby had a good reason to be absent set her mind at ease, and Athaya was able to focus on what was in front of her.

The entire service, Athaya could feel David's eyes boring into her from where he stood at the back of the group, far enough so as not to draw suspicion, but close enough to get to her should she need help. It was after the priest had finished, and that Athaya walked up to the coffin to pay her respects, that she felt his gaze leave her, thankfully allowing her this small moment alone.

She had thought about what she was going to say – what she was going to think – but in that moment, her mind went blank, and Athaya briefly floundered before the words came to her. She'd also promised herself that she wouldn't cry. Too many tears had been spilled in the past few days. And besides, Kenny wouldn't want her to be sad. He'd want her to keep going.

You…you were always there for when I needed you. Despite everything, you always made me smile, always comforted me…

Athaya realised that what she was thinking was true. Earlier, she'd remembered the hunting things – how he'd trained her – but now…now, she remembered the other things. Like the time when she'd only been there for a few months, and had missed her family so badly, she felt like she would die. Kenny hadn't asked anything, just turned up with a truckload of paint and water-balloons. Without a word, he'd filled the balloons up with the different coloured paints, coaxed her downstairs and took her out the back where a suspiciously clean white wall was. He'd given her the bucket full of paint balloons and told her to go her hardest, later explaining that it had been something he'd done with his daughter back when she was alive.

That day had been messy, both emotionally and physically, but by the end of it – thoroughly covered in rainbow paint splatters and exhausted – Athaya had felt so much better. Kenny had given her the means to vent, and not only that, but then had a very colourful and positive wall to show for it. Athaya was pretty sure the paint was still there, and wondered what Kenny's few relatives would make of it when they inherited the house.

Whatever the case, it was these little memories that Athaya thought of as she stood by Kenny's coffin, and so it took her completely by surprise when she heard the parson's voice right beside her ear.

'Poor, poor Kenny. He screamed when he died, you know.'

At the familiar tone, Athaya froze and felt a shiver go down her spine, every cell in her body locking into high-guard mode. She risked glancing at the man as he stood beside her, the serene picture of a kind and gentle man of God, and felt her heart jump to her throat when his eyes flashed yellow. Athaya was about to take a step away when he grabbed her arm.

'Now, now. Don't be hasty. Have no fear, sweetheart, I'm not here to cause trouble. Merely…witness the outcome of my little experiment.'

Athaya felt sick. This twisted freak was the reason that Kenny was dead.

'You bastard,' she murmured under her breath as he led her to the side, as if to console her. Keeping a hand on her arm, Azazel looked down at her with a grin. The man he was possessing was much taller than Athaya, and she hated that she had to look up at him.

'Such harsh words in such an inappropriate setting,' he scolded, and Athaya tried to pull away from him. 'Uh-uh. I said stay. There's a good girl.'

'What do you want?' she hissed, glancing around for David. Where was he?

'What do I want? Well, you already know my endgame. I want you to embrace your blood, your instincts, your destiny. But…today? I was just wondering how you've been sleeping…?' he said, casually, as if discussing the weather.

'How I've been sleepi – ?' Athaya began, confused, but Azazel cut across her.

'Here. Let me help you,' he frowned, and touched a hand to her forehead. After a second, he smirked. 'Ooh. Now that's just not playing fair. Somebody's put a nasty block in your mind. You wouldn't remember a thing, poor girl. But luckily for you, I just fixed that. You'll have no problems from now on, I imagine.'

Athaya blinked in shock, reeling as something seemed to snap inside her mind. She didn't have any new memories, but she suddenly felt clearer, more awake, as if a shot of caffeine had just kicked in. 'What did you do?' she asked, panicked, and tried to pull away from him, but Azazel held her tightly now, his fingers digging into Athaya's skin.

'Lovely service, wouldn't you agree?' he inquired politely, ignoring her question, and Athaya gritted her teeth.

'How did you find me?' she snapped, and he chuckled in amusement.

'Oh, sweetheart, you can't hide from me. I always know where you are. We share a bond,' he said matter-of-factly. 'One day you'll embrace it. Just not today, I suppose. It probably was too much of me to ask for you to join me on the day of your adopted father's funeral…' He admitted sheepishly, and Athaya felt the bile rise in her throat.

'Shut up, you son of a bitch. Don't you dare talk about him,' Athaya snarled.

'Ah. Touchy subject, I see. Never mind,' Azazel shrugged and adjusted his collar slightly. 'What do you think? Too much?' he asked, gesturing to the man he was 'wearing', and Athaya couldn't hold back the glare of revulsion she sent at him. 'Not in a talkative mood – I get it, really, I do,' he nodded understandingly. 'I'll just have to wait until our little conversation tonight. Maybe we can go over what we've previously talked about…a certain crossroads demon who's causing you trouble…basic chit-chat.'

Athaya froze. 'What?'

But Azazel had already let go of her arm, and took a step backwards. 'Like I said, Athaya…How have you been sleeping?' he repeated with an evil smile, and Athaya was almost knocked over as she realised what he was talking about.

The nightmare she couldn't remember. She'd been having similar ones for days now.

Oh, crap. What have I told him? I need to tell Crowley.

A thousand different thoughts were spinning through her head, but it was too late, and Athaya saw Azazel's hand go towards her head one last time. 'While I'd normally love to see you panic, I really feel guilty about ruining this day of mourning for you,' he said, his voice sickly sweet. 'So…I guess we'll just have to wait until tonight.'

His fingers touched her forehead, and everything went black.

Athaya stood to the edge of the group, near the back, and was aware of David a few people to the right. He scanned the group of people every so often, and Athaya briefly wondered how long she'd been standing there. She must have zoned out, because it felt like way longer than it had actually been.

In fact…As Athaya glanced around, she realised that what she had assumedwas a group of people was in fact actually just a few, and she recognised them as Kenny's family. Two brothers, a sister, aunts, uncles, a few cousins…but that was it. Athaya was the only non-family member left, aside from David, and she realised this with a jolt, and quickly retreated to the tree line after glancing over at her bodyguard, catching his attention discretely.

As soon as they made it to the trees, she turned to look back at the crowd, silently assessing the group from afar. It was a sad day, for certain, and Athaya glanced behind her to attempt to make polite conversation with David, perhaps thank him for coming…What she found was a very severe-looking Crowley at her elbow. She gave a little gasp and stepped forward, but his hand was already on her elbow, steadying her.

'Hello, Princess,' he said quietly, and Athaya felt her heart tighten at the use of her nickname. It felt like forever since he'd last used it.

'What are you doing here?' she inquired, her pride making her withdraw her arm from his grasp grudgingly, although she didn't let her true feelings show.

'I thought you could use a friendly face. David might be protection, but he's not particularly brilliant when it comes to conversation or comfort…or a friendly face.'

'Oh, and you are?' Athaya couldn't help but challenge, and then immediately grimaced. 'Sorry,' she apologised, pinching the bridge of her nose. 'It's been a long day.'

'Hasn't it just?' he agreed, ignoring her comment, and instead looking at towards the few people still gathered around the grave. 'I just want you to know that – '

Now it was Athaya's turn to interrupt the demon. 'Listen, Crowley…I want to hear what you have to say…But…do you mind if we just…don't talk for a few minutes? I'm sorry, I just can't. Not right now.' Athaya didn't look at him, but saw his gaze soften out of the corner of her eye.

'Of course. Just let me know when you want to leave. I can leave until then, if you wish…' Crowley suggested, his thoughtfulness surprising Athaya somewhat.

'No. It's alright. Stay. I just want to think for a while,' Athaya said, and closed her eyes for a moment, letting a serene kind of peace wash over her before opening them again. 'I just want to think…' she murmured softly, and felt a warm, soft material slip around her shoulders. She glanced to her side and saw Crowley looking at her thoughtfully, his jacket gone, now draped around her own shoulders.

'You were shivering,' he explained, a gentle softness in his voice that Athaya hadn't heard in days. She found herself almost tearing up at the gesture, so similar to when he'd given her his jacket all those years ago when she was younger. Although the circumstances had been slightly different. Athaya almost found it laughable to describe them as happier, and that had been after she'd left her family behind forever.

How times had changed.

Athaya pulled the jacket tighter around her chest and once again absolved into silence, staring out at the dwindling group of funeral-goers, and found herself wondering if perhaps there was hope after all.

Some time later

When Crowley nudged her arm, Athaya blinked several times, shaking her head and taking in the sky before them, which was a haze of oranges and pinks, the setting sun reflecting on the previously depressing sky to transform it into a paint-pot of summer colours.

That didn't stop it from being cold.

'Sorry, Princess. Your lips are turning blue,' Crowley said, his eyebrows quirked down in concern as he worried about her. Despite everything, he was worrying about her. Athaya brought a hand to her lips and ran her fingers over them, feeling their coldness before rubbing them slightly and then pressing them together in an effort to warm them. Crowley ignored all the games her actions were playing with his imagination. She had no idea about the effect she had on him. None at all. He was just grateful that she didn't push away his act of kindness earlier, giving her his jacket. He'd since kept his silence, but when her lips started turning blue, he'd gently nudged her. It was time to go.

'What time is it?' Athaya asked hazily, wrapping Crowley's jacket around herself tighter, and smiling at him before she seemed to remember herself. Almost instantly, the smile dropped, and she grew distant once more.

'Well, judging by the sky, I'd say five or six o'clock,' Crowley guessed, internally flinching at her sudden withdrawal. It had been wonderful – a pleasure – to watch her while she thought. She hadn't moved for two hours since they last spoke, instead staring out at the flat, green plains beyond the cemetery trees and gravestones, looking, but not seeing anything, seeing an entirely different view. He wondered what she'd been thinking about. Crowley had a niggling feeling that he, himself had been a topic of thought for more than a few minutes of her space-out. It had been fascinating to watch her think, acting as if unwatched, even though she knew he was there. He wasn't sure if that meant she no longer cared, or if she cared enough to act naturally around her. He was inclined to believe the former, since she had absolutely no reason to feel comfortable around him. Not anymore.

He remembered when she'd been sixteen. She was confident, ridiculously cocky in the way she treated him. Crowley had been shocked. He'd never suspect anyone – let alone a young girl – of acting so…trustfully around him. Demons and trust didn't come hand in hand, and yet this young girl had offered it without a second thought, whilst knowing exactly what he was. It was no surprise as to why he'd liked her immediately. Friendship was a rare thing for a demon.

'I've been here nearly four hours?' Athaya inquired, surprised that she'd been at the funeral for so long. She must have lost track of time.

'You've been here nearly six hours,' Crowley corrected, and observed a look of shock pass over Athaya's face briefly.

'Six?' she inquired softly, so quiet that Crowley almost didn't hear. Almost.

'Yes, six,' he confirmed, and Athaya looked confused for a moment.

'I must have…really zoned out,' she sent him a small, uncomfortable smile, and he chuckled.

'Yes. I think "zoned out" is quite the appropriate term, don't you?' Crowley smiled, and Athaya threw back her head and let loose a bright peal of bell-like laughter. It was short, sweet, and made Crowley's heart soar to see her happy after so much sadness.

But just as quickly as it surfaced, it was gone. Athaya's smile faded and she turned to stare at Crowley solemnly. 'I…I was actually waiting for everyone to leave…' she began, glancing around at the now empty cemetery. 'It's Kenny…I need to salt and burn his body…' Athaya smiled tightly, and Crowley thought he saw her eyes glaze over with tears. None, fell, however, and she laughed once more, only this time it was tinged with sadness.

'Stupid idiot forgot to change his will. I remember talking to him about it a few months ago. He must have just forgotten. His family wanted him buried, but we both knew what we had to do. But now…I have to…' Athaya didn't finish her sentence, and looked as if she felt slightly sick.

Dig up his grave? Not on my watch, Princess. Crowley snapped his fingers and watched her carefully. 'Already done,' he said huskily, and saw the relief spread out across her features. She whispered a quiet 'Thank you,' and then pulled the jacket around her tighter once more, her eyes falling on the freshly covered grave that was burning deep underground, even as they stood there. 'Are you done here?' he inquired, attempting to return to his previous manner of aloofness, and she nodded silently. 'Then let's get you back safe and sound,' he said kindly and offered a hand.

Athaya only hesitated a moment before reaching out, slipping her fingers through his, but not looking directly at him. At least…not when she thought he was looking.

Perhaps there was hope for them yet.

AN: Hola all! So sorry it's been such a long time since I've updated – I've got exams coming up (eugh) and have been studying like a crazy woman. Unfortunately…I still have to study, so I probably won't be updating for another couple of weeks…

I'M SORRY!

I really will try to update though. Whenever I'm not studying, I like to write as a break, so hopefully I'll manage to update between now and then, but maybe not. It's all circumstantial.

BUT I HOPED YOU ENJOYED THE CHAPTER ANYWAYS :)

Thanks for all the lovely reviews - don't forget to continue to R&R!

Xxx ~Fen~