Chapter 34

They had nearly finished their simple meal; the one that was 'supposed to have been a romantic lead-in to a long night of passion'. Amelia fumed in her disappointment. This whole evening had not gone as she had planned. Well, there was the part where Sam had said he loved her, too. She smiled at that memory. But it was quickly gone when the amulet shook so violently it fell off the table. Apsu was having a harder time than she thought he would; Crowley must still be putting up a fight. She had to find a way to get him out of there; the trapped god didn't deserve this kind of turmoil.

"I wish my cousin was here." She muttered absent-mindedly. "He'd know what to do with Crowley."

"Your cousin?" Sam asked.

"Well, not literately, of course." Amelia looked at Sam. "He's more of the yang to my yin." She giggled and reached to pour another glass of whiskey.

Sam reached out and took the bottle. "Amelia? Are you drunk?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She said and then hiccupped. "Hmm, maybe just a little." She looked at Sam. "You know, I remember when I could drink a whole vineyard's worth of wine. Guess it's been a while." Her smile completely disappeared. "Maybe, I'm too old for this shit."

"This is good to know." He laughed at her. "You're a morose drunk."

"No, I'm not!" She straightened up in her chair. "I'm just frustrated."

"Yes, actually you are, and always have been." Said a smooth, soft voice from near the door.

Sam quickly turned to the sound and found himself staring at Death's thin, pale face. He was up and protectively in front of Amelia in a second.

"Sam." He said unemotionally. "That really isn't necessary; or realistic. You really think you could stop me, if I was here for either of you?"

"You came!" Amelia said as she looked around Sam's large frame. She jumped up, walked over to the imposing figure raising her arms getting ready to hug the Grim Reaper.

He raised the hand, as she approached, to stop her. "We are not going to hug." She stopped her forward motion and she put her hands down. "What kind of mess have you gotten into this time?" He asked her condescendingly.

Amelia started to open her mouth to reply, but Sam spoke first. "Don't talk to her that way."

Death let out a long, put-upon sigh. "I see you've made another poor fool fall in love with you." He said looking at Sam. He turned towards in the direction of the table and looked down at the amulet just as it violently shook again. "I see you finally found that idiot Apsu, as well." He stared another second before adding. "Is that Crowley in there with him?"

"Yes. I needed to put him somewhere he wouldn't bother us, and Apsu said it would be okay. But, I think the demon is giving him a hard time. We decided we couldn't kill him because it would create chaos in Hell and probably unleash the demons he's currently controlling. I just don't know how to let him out without him getting in the way of our plan to save Dean." It all poured out of Amelia so fast she had to take a deep breath as she finished.

"I see." Death walked over to the table, sat down and then reached down and picked up the amulet. "And you want me to do what exactly?"

Sam stared at the two of them, talking like long lost relatives. That's when it hit him. He turned to Amelia. "This is your cousin? Death?"

"Is that what you told him?" Death asked, obviously annoyed.

"Hey, I said not literately." She replied, slightly defensively and now completely sober. "But, come on. We were both put here about the same time, we are life and death; yin and yang, light and dark. What else would you call us?"

Death put the amulet on the table, took the last piece of cheese and sat quietly eating. "So, Dean Winchester and that stupid little Angel of his got themselves thrown into Purgatory?" He said, staring straight ahead. He turned a looked at the two of them. "I can't believe you're asking me to help you; after all the trouble the both of you have caused me." He said shaking his head.

Sam figured that Death must have known the whole situation before he had even arrived; because neither he nor Amelia had said anything about Purgatory. But, then again, he was Death.

"Of course I knew." He said staring at Sam.

"So, can you take Crowley and keep him out of our way until we get Dean back?" Amelia said trying to wheedle her way into the soft spot she knew he had for her.

He continued sitting at the table and ignored them as he took one of the glasses and swallowed the last of the whiskey. He knew what she wanted as soon as he heard her call. He also knew he would help her; just like the hundreds of times he had in the past. She had him wrapped around her little finger since the moment the One had put them on this horrible little rock. The Winchesters had been almost as troublesome as she had, just not quite as long. But as much as he complained, he really rather liked Dean.

"And where am I supposed to put the King of Hell, since I saw the remnants of his meat suit scattered all over the parking lot?" Death asked as he stood up from the table.

Sam and Amelia just looked at each other. Death rolled his eyes and said. "It was a rhetorical question. you fools." A small bag, just like the one he had brought Sam's soul back from Hell in, appeared on the table. He picked up the amulet in one hand and opened the bag with the other. As he put his hand into the bag, a bright glow started coming from within the bag. He withdrew his hand and closed the bag on the light. He laid the amulet back on the table.

"I will keep him occupied until the moment you repair all the seals to Purgatory. I would recommend taking cover as soon as you can, because he will be very unhappy with you." Death said as he stepped away from the table. "Apsu is also fairly upset with you. I would suggest you try to make him happy before the 12th of July"

Amelia stepped towards Death and he held up his hand. "We are still not going to hug." He said in a put-upon voice; but Sam could swear there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he disappeared, taking Crowley safely away from them.

She turned back to Sam and they both just stood looking at each other. "You suppose anybody else is going to drop in tonight?" Sam said, finally breaking the silence.

Amelia flopped down on one of the beds and replied. "I sure hope not, because I'm exhausted." But then she sat back up and had a sour expression on her face. "Except, I feel disgusting. I need another shower. Having Crowley pass through me makes me feel like I went swimming in the LaBrea tar pits." She was up and in the bathroom before Sam could respond.

Sam found himself staring at the closed bathroom door; then he started talking to himself. "You know, I like to think I'm a fairly flexible guy. You know, 'roll with the punches'." He went to his bag, dug out the salt and was getting ready to salt the door and windows. "But that woman, goddess, what-ever, is going to be the death of me. She would try the patience of ….." He couldn't think of anybody. The way this night was going; whoever he had thought of would probably show up just to rub it in his face!

X

Amelia wasn't the only one who was exhausted. Sam lay down on his bed, after salting the door and windows, to wait to talk to Amelia when she got out of the shower. He figured he'd just close his eyes for a second. But, between the turmoil of Amelia's confession and their visitors and the whiskey, he was out like a light within seconds of lying down.

It took Amelia a long time to wash away the feeling of having a demon's energy pass through her. When she finally came out of the bathroom, she found him sprawled out on his bed on his stomach, sound asleep. 'Oh well.' She thought to herself; their romantic interlude was pretty much shot to hell the second Crowley showed his face. She turned out the lights, threw a blanket over Sam and crawled into the other bed. The evening may not have been perfect; 'okay, it kind of sucked', but it wasn't a total lose either.

She had finally told him all she knew about the incantation. Amelia cringed remembering how hysterical she had gotten. He hadn't been repelled by the thought of having to make love to her; he even said he loved her, too. 'Except, he didn't actually say it, did he? He said 'pretty sure' and he had had as much whiskey as she had. So, basically, he was half-drunk off his ass'. "At least Crowley won't be bothering us anymore." She said to herself as she rolled over and fell asleep as quickly as Sam had.