A/N: Hello my dear readers and welcome to the third and last story in this trilogy. We continue the boys' journey with their newfound powers and the enemies they are about to face. I hope you enjoy the ride and the twists I throw in. A big thanks to VegasGranny for her support and insight to help make the story that much better. Reviews/Comments would be great! NC

Disclaimer: I do not own SPN and this story is my own creation. Any mistakes are my own.

Chapter 1

Dean had driven for a little over an hour before seeing signs advertising lodging, food, and gas a mile ahead. He thought it would be a good place to stop. They could unwind, get cleaned up, get something to eat, have a good night's sleep, and head on to Bobby's the following morning. He signaled to change lanes so he could exit at the upcoming off ramp.

"I'm going to stop up ahead at that motel for the night. We'll get a room, and you can change your shirt before we walk down to the steakhouse to eat," Dean told Sam.

Sam looked around and saw the signs for a food, gas, and lodging ahead of them. He pushed up in his seat and looked down at his dirty shirt, absently brushing at it.

"Why don't we get takeout and eat in the room?" Sam suggested. He didn't feel like sitting in a restaurant filled with strangers.

"Yeah, we can do that," Dean agreed when he heard the tone of Sam's voice. "Probably be better than having to deal with joe public."

"Should we get our food first and then the motel?"

"Why not, it's not like we need to be anywhere in a hurry," Dean shrugged. He took the exit and turned to go to the steakhouse that was down below the motel. "You want me to get your usual?"

"Yeah, ranch dressing for salad and fresh fruit if they have it. Oh, and iced tea to drink."

Dean pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine before rolling down his window. He was leaving Sam in the car since he didn't think his appearance would be welcoming.

"Can't leave the puppy without some air, now, can we?" he snickered as he got out.

Sam gave him an annoyed bitch face when Dean chuckled at his own joke before strolling toward the door. Not to be outdone, he rolled his own window down and let the breeze blow through the car.

Sam looked around the area, checking everything out and looking for anything that was out of place or that threw up a red flag for him. Nothing weird or unusual stood out to him, which was good, and he turned his attention to the front door watching for Dean to come out. He didn't think he would be long since there were not that many cars in the parking lot.

In less than thirty minutes, Dean came out carrying a bag of food and a container with drinks cushioned in it. He stopped at the passenger side of the car and waited for Sam to take the items through the open window. Once that was done, Dean moved around to the driver's side and took his place behind the wheel. He started the Impala and pulled out to go across the road to the motel.

"I'll get us a room," Dean told Sam, parking the car at the office. He left it running and headed inside to register and get the keys for a room. He was in luck and snagged a corner room with two queen size beds. Dean dug out the last of his money, thinking it was too bad that Crowley's credit card didn't work anymore. Dean moved the car in front of the room, and they got out. He went to the trunk to get their bags before opening the door to the room.

"Alright, let's eat and then we can relax," Dean decided dropping bags on each bed. He went into the bathroom to wash his hands and face.

"Okay, I'm getting a shower afterwards," Sam replied when Dean came out. He sat the bags and drinks on the small table and went into the bathroom to wash his hands. When he came back out Dean was pulling containers from the bag and opened them to divide the food. "Did you get tea too?" he asked looking at the two drinks.

"Yeah, so it doesn't matter which one you take," Dean told him pulling his food to him. He drew in a deep breath of the hamburger steak he had ordered and grabbed the plastic silverware so he could dig in. Dean cut a large bit and stabbed some sautéed onions to go with it. He hummed in delight as he chewed the bite of food. "Not bad at all. I hope the pie is as good."

"Yeah, it's not bad," Sam agreed as he cut up the chicken on top of his salad and ate some. He speared some salad, took the bite, and munched on it, starting to eat faster when he realized he was hungry. Sam washed down his food with the iced tea, thinking how good it tasted. He sat his fruit aside for later and threw away his trash. "I'm going to get a shower now and clean up."

"Okay Sammy, maybe I can find us something good on the tube to watch. Hey, they have pay-per-view, maybe they have something good there." Dean got rid of his trash and moved to the bed, pulling the pillows out and settling back against the headboard. He unlaced his boots and kicked them to the side so he could get comfortable. He picked up the remote and turned on the television hunting the pay channels. Dean settled back into the pillows watching an action movie, waiting his turn for the bathroom.

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Sam stepped from the shower and dried off, feeling better now that he had ate and was clean. He wrapped the towel around his hips and cinched it before stepping to the door and opening it, letting out a cloud of steam. Dean was sacked out on the bed watching something on the television. He started to step to his duffle when suddenly a figure dressed in black appeared in the room.

Sam froze as his eyes widened and he looked to Dean who hadn't moved a muscle. He dove for the weapon's bag and grabbed a gun, almost losing the towel that covered him. Sam drew down on the figure not understanding why Dean was still lying on the bed and not concerned with this stranger.

"H'llo boys," the stranger greeted them as he took in the scene. "So, this is the little brother?" he surmised giving Sam a once over, letting his eyes roam up and down his body. "You left out he was actually bigger than you."

"Don't bother Sammy, it won't hurt him," Dean finally spoke when he saw Sam holding a gun on Crowley. "What do you want Crowley? I didn't think you could track me."

"Now Squirrel, do you think I would let you leave without having some way of finding you?" Crowley asked looking around and taking a seat in a chair at the table. He looked over at Sam who still had a gun on him and was gripping the towel that rode low on his hips.

"You know him?" Sam finally got out, his voice cracking slightly. He looked closely with his powers and could see the demon soul within the possessed body.

"Yeah, I know this douche bag," Dean snorted.

"Really? I'm hurt; you mean you didn't tell little brother about who freed you from Hell?" Crowley asked. "Name's Crowley, King of the Crossroads," he introduced himself to Sam with a flourish. "You know, if your brother is Squirrel, that would make you Moose, and it does seem to fit." He leered at Sam for a moment before turning back to Dean.

"What?" Sam asked confused with the whole situation. He blushed with Crowley's remark and heated gaze and looked back at Dean for some confirmation.

"Go put some clothes on Sammy 'fore you give him a hard on," Dean told Sam rolling his eyes at Crowley's smirky face.

Sam snorted in disgust and anger, turning even redder, and looked between the two of them before grabbing his duffle, gripping the towel tighter to keep himself covered, and stomped back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He wasn't sure what was happening in the other room or exactly who this demon was, but Dean seemed to know him. If what he said was true, this was the demon who helped him and got Dean out of Hell. He didn't trust him and his British accent, nor his arrogant attitude.

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"What do you want Crowley?" Dean asked again, annoyance in his voice.

"Why don't we wait for Moose, so I don't have to repeat myself or you have to give him the cliff notes. I think it's best if both of you hear it together."

"Whatever," Dean huffed. "Must be important for you to leave Hell and come to me in person."

"I think you'll want to hear what I have to say," Crowley urged. He snapped his fingers and a bottle of high-priced liquor, and three glasses appeared on the table. He opened the bottle and pour three shots, picking up one of the glasses and sipping on it.

Dean and Crowley looked to the bathroom door as Sam stepped out fully clothed now, with even a hoodie on like he wanted to cover every inch of his body.

"Take a seat Sammy," Dean offered patting his bed as he moved over.

Sam didn't say anything as he sidled to the bed and sat down beside Dean, eyeing Crowley as he drank his liquor.

"Okay Crowley; spill it. Why are you here?" Dean demanded.

"Words been floating around in Hell that there's a price on your head Squirrel," Crowley started. "A hefty one at that."

Dean frowned as he let that sink in, not sure where he was going with this. He didn't think Crowley was going to rag him out because it wouldn't be in his best interest to do that.

"Who's gunning for me?" Dean asked as he stiffened and clenched his hands into fist.

"Who else?" Crowley shrugged. "Alastair wasn't too happy you got away from him before he was finished with you. Seems there was something he wanted from you and, well, you didn't want to give it up."

Sam watched the exchange between the two and could feel the tension and fear coming off Dean. When the name Alastair was mentioned, Sam saw him pale, and he seemed to stop breathing.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam whispered in concern.

"Why don't you give big brother a shot of whiskey?" Crowley offered motioning to the two glasses still on the table.

Sam got up and stepped to the table to pick up the two glasses. He went back to the bed and pushed one glass into Dean hand.

"Drink Dean," Sam urged him as he took a small sip of his own. He watched Dean finally come around enough to raise the glass to his lips and chug the drink, coughing softly afterwards.

"Any idea when he's coming after me?" Dean questioned pushing away his fears and worry where no one would see them.

"No, I was lucky my spy was able to get me that much," Crowley replied. "You need to take him out or you'll be looking over your shoulder the rest of your life or until he catches you and drags you back to Hell. And I don't think that is what you want, a repeat performance of the past."

"There's got to be something in it for you Crowley. You wouldn't tell me all this out of the kindness of your cold, hard heart."

"Let's just say, it's a steppingstone for me. Plus, you did rack up quite a bill on that credit card I gave you. Get rid of my…Competition, and we'll call it even."

"How 'bout you throw in another year, no, make that lifetime use on the credit card, unlimited dollars, and you keep me informed on any other information you hear about Alastair?" Dean countered, wanting to get something out of the deal. He stared Crowley down daring him to object.

Crowley looked at Dean as he moved to temple his fingers and thought about it. He knew it was a good idea to have the brothers as allies rather than enemies and couldn't see how it would hurt. If Dean couldn't take Alastair out, he wouldn't be out anything.

"Done, I'm glad we're seeing eye to eye. Well, Moose, Squirrel, it's been a pleasure doing business with you. You'll be hearing from me. Here's my number, call me when the job is done. Keep the rest of the bottle," Crowley agreed before snapping his fingers and disappearing.

Dean got up from the bed and went to the table to pour a generous portion of whiskey into his empty glass. He took a long swallow before letting out a long, shaky breath.

"Guess you want to know what all that was about," Dean huffed, looking to Sam who was still sitting on the bed.

Sam looked down at his glass and swirled the whiskey around in it. He had so many questions, he didn't know where to start, but held his tongue. Sam knew he had to let Dean tell him in his own way.

"I got the gist of some of it, but if you want to explain it to me, I'm listening."

"Crowley is the demon that helped me out of Hell and yeah, he gave me the credit card," Dean started but paused for a moment like he was trying to choose the right words.

"And Alastair?" Sam questioned cautiously.

"Alastair…" Dean laughed harshly, without any humor, as he looked away, his mind going back to a place he never wanted to remember. "He was the Master Torturer in Hell," Dean whispered. "Alastair used every trick in the book to get me to break…And oh so many other things that aren't in any books. I think he made some of them up just for me. He was so awfully close to succeeding Sammy. I wasn't going to last much longer…" Dean's voice trailed off as he shuddered, lost in the memories he wished he could pluck out of his brain and throw away.

Sam looked down at the floor, not sure what to say. He could feel how wrecked Dean's soul was and wished he could make it all go away but knew he couldn't. Sam couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes as he listened to his brother's small voice and couldn't imagine what he had gone through while in Hell. He knew if this demon was after Dean, it was going to be really bad, and they needed to devise a plan to take him out. He was deep in thought and didn't notice Dean had stopped talking.

"I'm taking a shower," Dean said to no one. He got up and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, shutting out the rest of the world. He didn't want to talk anymore about what they had learned and wanted time to wrap his head around the threat. Hopefully, they would have time to prepare and get a warning before Alastair came for him if Crowley did his part.