Sooo... I know I've been out for faaaar too long. I've been moving out of my place, than my laptop broke (and everything about this story was on it with no backup anywhere... yeah, I'm that stupid) and I had to wait over a month to get it repaired, than some health problems surfaced... I know it's no excuse, but shit happens.

From now on there will be absolutely regular updates of the story. At least once a week. Probably I'll manage to update even twice a week but I'm still not sure. As i planned the story, there are about 10 chapters left but they need some writing and working on them. I can't wait to share what I've planned for Braeden and the boys! :)

Anyway, here's the latest chapter. Happy reading! :)

If someone ever told me I'd have to repay Rowena, the most powerful witch I've ever met, for her services by just letting her tag along so she can see why I needed her to do what she did... I'd never believe it. It's still hard to believe it.

But here we are, in the outskirts of Hastings, Nebraska, in an abandoned house, somewhat remoted from the populated area. It was about an hour drive but what took longer was waiting for Rowena in front of the little hotel she was staying at, staring at a "Quality Inn" sign. And I was ready to strangle her when getting in the car she said with her remarkable fussy voice.

"I'm over 300 years old. Beauty sleep isn't optional."

I look around, checking every detail all over again. I need to be sure everything is perfectly set or I'll kick the bucket much sooner than Styne planned it. The windows are covered with planks so the light is scarce, the few pieces of furniture are covered in sheets, dust is dancing in the air. A thick carpet, probably older than Rowena by the looks of it, is covering the wooden floor.

The witch is out of sight, just as I instructed and insisted. She is at the staircase, just behind the corner of the living room. She promised not to show herself before I am done. And I wait, my patience growing thin by the second, my grip on the sack Rowena found for me tight and steady.

There is a creak, a door raps, and the King of Hell enters in all his glory and his black, expensive suit. My eyes follow every move he makes. Crowley looks at me, a thin smile playing on his lips.

"You look like Hell. And I'd know," his British accent gets on my nerves, memories of his torture flooding my mind.

"Oh, bite me," I steel my voice.

"You wish., he sneers, "Alone, Chipmunk?" he asks, looking around, "Where are Moose and Squirrel?" his eyes dart to the old carpet, there is a crease in its corner, and I gulp anxiously.

"Not here. Came without them," I flatly say as he bends over, catching the end of the carpet and flipping it over, exposing the Devil's trap beneath it.

"Really?" he arches his brows, disappointment flashing in his eyes, "The oldest trick of all, and you think I'd be stupid enough to fall for it."

I take a step back as he carefully breaks the circle and goes undisturbed across the carpet, stopping right in front of me. Exactly where I want him. I grin at him and wordlessly point above his head. By his face, I know he realizes what he is about to see, but he looks up anyway. Another Devil's trap on the ceiling. Right above his head.

"Bollocks." his dark eyes fly back to me, "You still angry because of our little rendezvous a couple of months back? 'Cause I have to tell you..."

"You mean when you tortured me and almost got me killed?" my voice is full of steel when I cut him off, "Nah, I'm over it." I wave dismissively my hand, "I've got a deal for you."

"A deal?" his smug, calm expression makes me want to punch him in the face, "And why would I?"

"Oh, well..." I shrug and casually thrust my hand into the sack, taking out two little bones. "I think this is yours." I toss one of the bones at him.

It is quite satisfying to see the shock mixed with fear and betrayal on his pale round face when he barely manages to catch it as the realization hits him. I pull a lighter out of my pocket.

"I can prove it if you want me to." I smile at him, holding the tiny bone close over the flame, "You know, to be sure I'm not messing with you..."

"Fine," he growls, his whole body cramping as the flame almost envelopes the bone. "I believe you." he spits. "What do you want?"

"It's simple, actually," I say as I put the bone back in the sack. "I want full immunity for Kevin, the boys, Meg and Cas. All those I care about, actually." his eyes widen but before he can speak, I continue, "I mean that you leave them alone. They are not to be chased or hurt in any way by you or someone on your orders, you don't hunt Kevin down for the tablets. Your minions leave the boys out. No trying to kill them or hurt them under any circumstances. You not giving direct orders or trying to find a loophole in all that. They are all absolutely off-limits. And when they die you not trying to snatch their souls in Hell. And mine, of course."

As I speak his face grows redder and redder. Like he's about to explode.

"Are you bloody insane?!" Crowley bawls, "Do you have any idea what you want of me!? The turmoil in Hell this will cause..."

I just shake the sack, the bones inside rattling. He quiets down, glaring at me, murder in his eyes.

"Careful with the blood pressure." I smile at him sweetly, "So, what do you think? We have a deal?"

We both know he won't refuse.

"You're good." he slowly admits, gaining back his composture, "I give you that. Bloody brilliant. But this is the last time I underestimate you, Braeden Singer." he fixes his shirt and adds, "We have a deal."

"Do I have to kiss you to be sure you'll keep it?"

"By now you should know I keep my agreements." he pointedly says, "There's only one rule - make a deal, keep it."

"Fine with me." I pull out a knife out of my sleeve and toss it up to the ceiling, the blade sinking in the symbols of the Devil's trap; I look at Crowley, "But if it even crosses your mind to..."

"Yeah, yeah." he brushes me off and steps out of the trap, "You'll kill me."

I shake my head and hand him the sack with his bones.

"You're an utter and complete pain in my ass," Crowley states.

"You'd know by now." I roll my eyes and call over my shoulder, "Rowena."

The witch slowly enters the living room, smoothing her blue-laced dress that compliments her fiery curls. Her skirt rustles with every graceful step she makes. Crowley freezes, dumbstruck.

"The king at last." there is a dangerous smile playing on Rowena's lips, "King of what? Lilliput? I mean, I'd heard you were short, but..." her laughter echoes through the empty room, "Wee boy, is something the matter with you? Cat got your tongue?"

Crowley utters one single word. A word that is enough to send me in complete shock.

"Mother."

I gape in disbelieve, trying to comprehend the scene unfolding before me.

"Fergus."

"Crowley!" he corrects her.

"Fergus." Rowena stubbornly says.

"So you haven't changed." the king of Hell scoffs.

"But you certainly have." there is admiration and approval in Rowena's voice, a smile on her lips, "King of Hell, bravo. I always knew my boy was meant for big things."

"Really?" the edge in Crowley's voice is well hidden, "As I remember it, you said I would die in a gutter, covered in my own sick."

"I was motivating you to do better, aim higher. And clearly, it worked." the witch says pleased, "How did you die?"

"The point is, you hated me."

"Oh, please." she rolls her eyes.

I've never seen Crowley so agitated, so vulnerable, and pissed off. His thick voice reaches unimaginable heights as he rages upon his own mother.

"You said you'd be back in a flash. Then you disappeared. I was eight years old. Eight!"

"Oh, now you're being dramatic!"

"I didn't even have a father!"

"Of course you had a father!" she exclaims, "You were just conceived during a winter solstice orgy, and it's not like I was taking names." Rowena sounds exasperated. "What do you want me to say? I… I had a disagreement with the locals and when they set their hounds on me, I had to leave!"

"And never come back? For hundreds of years?"

"But I'm here now!" she smiles, her voice thin but almost earnest, yet Crowley squeezes his eyes at her, "We have a second chance. We can be a real family again, Fergus."

"Crowley!" the demon growls.

And I lose it. A laugh escapes my lips. They both turn to me, only now realizing they have an audience.

"I'm sorry!" I wave my hand at them, laughing, "This is gold. I just..." giggles erupt from me.

Rowena and Crowley stare at me, dumbfound. Their disbelieve is even more hilarious, and soon I'm in a hysterical fit. It leaves me breathless, tears streaming down my face. For some reason, I've never thought of Crowley as something else but the King of Hell. Yes, I got his bones but his human life has never been on my thoughts. Realizing he has a mother and she is no other but Rowena, makes me see him in a different light. He is still the traitorous King of Hell, fucking demon and all... But now I think of the reasons he is who he is. Obviously, one of them is Rowena. A huge one, at that. I push aside those thoughts. I don't want or need to understand him, let alone sympathize with him.

"You're laughing too much considering you're a walking corpse." Crowley smiles at me, "I can smell the death on you."

"Fergus, be nice!" Rowena gasps and approaches me, "She's the reason we found each other after all that time. Show some gratitude."

Crowley scoffs as the witch raises her hands. I didn't know she cared that much even though we had some nice conversations and we treated each other with respect and well-hidden mistrust.

"I sensed something different about you, dear," she says, "But since it's not me to pry, I didn't say a thing. May I?" when I nod, she chants, "Possim rei huius cognoscere causas..."

I don't feel a thing but her eyes glow and her hands tremble as she moves them up and down my body.

"Oh, my..." she looks anxious, "I usually need to burn some herbs to be sure... But what I felt..." Rowena shakes her head, "Braeden, you're dying..."

"I know," I scoff.

"You know? You know?" Rowena exclaims, "Your body is deteriorating as we speak. What happened to you? I can't sense a thing that... Your life is connected to too many souls..."

"You can't help me," I give her a crook smile, "I was cursed."

"Who should I congratulate?" Crowley deadpans.

"Fergus!"

"Doesn't matter." I shrug, "He's dead. And made sure there's no around this curse. So..." I spread my arms and take a step back, ready to leave, "I won't be a pain in your ass for much longer, Crowley." I wink at him, "Pleasure making business with you." I turn to the witch, "Rowena, thank you for everything. It was surprisingly pleasant working with you."

Her thin, painted lips stretch into a genuine smile, warmth shining in her eyes. Crowley rolls his eyes.

"Likewise, dear. You're the least intolerable hunter I've ever had the displeasure to meet." she crosses her arms with admirable courtliness, "Oh, and Braeden. I'd hurry to say my farewells if I were you. You don't have much time. A week or two, if you are lucky."

I nod my gratitude, mock salute Crowley and head for my car. I prefer to ignore Rowena's reasons for contacting Crowley. Only God knows what's her next cunning plan. I know she is manipulative enough to get exactly what she wants and some part of me feels sorry for the King of Hell. But a spoon of his own medicine might be good for him.

As I start the car, I realize my hands are shaking. Silent tears roll down my cheeks as I head down the road. I feel my lungs burning, my throat clenching. I can't deny it anymore. The curse is real. Ignoring it isn't making it go away. A sob escapes me. No one can help me. No one can save me. I'm alone in this. I am going to die. And I am terrified.

Any feedback is much appreciated. Please drop me a review and tell me what you think! :)