Bobby let out a small breath. "There's a demon I can summon." he finally said. "We can get some answers."
Ellen looked up, she hadn't left Jo's side the entire time since the two demons disappeared. John hadn't moved, it had taken Bobby dragging him up and throwing him into a chair to get him out of the panic room. Otherwise he didn't move, not looking up from the ground.
"What good is that going to do?" Ellen asked, stroking at Jo's hair. The girl didn't move, she was breathing and alive, but otherwise nothing else.
Bobby was already moving to gather the ingredients he needed, it was familiar enough to him that he could do it in his sleep at this point. Putting everything into a bowl he lit a match and dropped it. "We'll at least figure out what we;re dealing with." he said as the sparks and fire filled his vision.
When everything calmed down a man stood in the middle of the room under the devils trap. he glanced up at the ceiling and then turned to Bobby.
"Bobby Singer, what a pleasant surprise." Crowley dawdled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I thought our business was done."
"We got questions." Bobby said, skipping the pleasantries and wanting to avoid that particular topic. "About two demons."
Crowley let out a heavy put upon sign, brushing the imaginary lint off the front of his suit. "Always work, never pleasure with you." he complained. "Let's get this over with."
"There are two demons, ones possessing a kid and goes by Sam Wesson." Bobby said, watching Crowley pause at that. "The other is Dean."
Crowley scoffed at that. "You're half right, ones Dean and the other is Sam, there is no Wesson. Of course they picked a gun." he added to himself.
"But the body-"
"Is his." Crowley injected. He let out another sigh, shaking his head. "Sam and Dean, the little brats." maybe it was Bobby's imagination but it almost sounded fond.
"Who are they?"
"They're..." Crowley took a moment to find the right words before he came to a decision. "Abominations. They never should've been born."
Crowley started to pace along the edges of the devil's trap. "They're brothers." he said, Bobby saw John flinch from the corner of his eye. "They were born to a demon mother and a human father, something like that's never happened before so no one knows how to react to them or what they can do."
Taking a deep breath he continued. "Dean came to hell as a child. Sam, Samael, was born there. They've been in hell for years, time passes differently there after all, and let me tell you, they're dangerous."
"Half demon and half human, raised in hell, whatever it is, whatever the reason, they're powerful. A lot of things that works on us doesn't work on them." Crowley told them. "Exorcisms don't work, its their bodies. Holy water isn't as effective if at all. They're..." he paused again.
"They're insane." he finally said. "They hide it well, all smiles and those little doe eyes that Sam uses, but quite frankly if possible I try to stay away from them. I've seen them kill lower demons with their minds and the last demon that grabbed Sam? Dean," he gave a small shudder. "Best left unsaid."
"How are they powerful enough to kill a demon?" Bobby asked. "I've never heard of something like that."
"There's a lot of things out there that you haven't heard of." Crowley said rolling his eyes. "No one knows, it seems to be a mixture between being halves and their lineage." At their blank looks, a bit irritated he added, "Azazels brood."
"Azazels a yellow eyed." Bobby said slowly. "That's all I know."
Crowley let out another put upon sign. "Azazels a prince and general of hell, hand picked by Lucifer himself. They're just under the devil in power."
"And Azazel has what to do with them?"
"I'm going to call in a very big favor for all this information." Crowley warned him. "Azazel considers himself their grandfather, he was the one to make a deal with Mary."
Johns head snapped up at the mention of her name, pain clear in his voice as he choked out. "What?" he rasped out.
Crowley glanced at him disinterestedly before he sighed and lifted his hand, a soft red glow surrounding it for a moment before a scroll appeared in it. Unraveling the scroll he cleared his throat before he started to read.
"A deal is made between Mary Campbell and Prince Azazel on the grounds of one (1) resurrection of Samuel Campbell. The agreed upon payment is the soul of Mary Campbell to be collected in ten years time. Agreed and sealed by, Mary Campbell, four years of age."
There was a tense and disgust filled silence for a moment.
"Four years old?" Ellen was the one to repeat. Bobby was sure that if he opened his mouth he would be sick.
"Four years old." Crowley repeated, scanning the rest of the scroll. "Contract completed, Azazel was kind enough to just use a kiss instead of the usual method of a prince deal. Mary Campbells soul was taken at fourteen."
The scroll disappeared from his hand with a flash of fire. "That's everything about the deal, at some point she became a demon, escaped hell, and then came running back." he shrugged. "I didn't pay her much attention, she was pretty." he added, a smirk appearing on his face. "Very pretty but she rebuked any of my advances, said she was focused on the children."
"Sam Campbell, I know that name." Ellen said. "He's a hunter, but he's a widower and he doesn't have kids."
"It doesn't matter, we can deal with that later." Bobby almost snapped at her. "The boys, tell us more about them."
"Not much else to say, as of right now they're hogging my best hellhound." Crowley said rolling his eyes. "Sam apparently got himself stabbed." his smile spread along his face at the look on their faces. "I'm guessing this has something to do with you."
"Don't bother, I don't want to know, nor do I care." Crowley said holding his hand up. "Now if this is done-"
"No it's not." John said, coming back to life and going to his feet, stalking over to the demon who stared at him levelly. "I still have questions."
Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll answer one more." he said coolly. "From the goodness of my heart."
"I want to talk to Mary." John said, his voice wavering slightly. "Where is she?"
Crowley laughed at that, a cold sound that filled the room.
"You want to talk to Mary?" he repeated in almost perverse delight. "Well good for you. She's dead."
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