Chapter 3 – Full House:

True to his word, Dean was going to make Castiel work for his freedom.

Leaving Bobby inside with the lighter and the pot of holy oil, Dean herded Sam, Harry, and a now significantly-less-amused Crowley out of the barn. A monumentally huge bombshell had just been dropped on them, but there were some issues a bit closer to home that needed working out first.

Once they were a short distance away from the barn Dean turned to face them with a look of wild disapproval on his face.

"Was that Ruby chick not enough warning for you? Why would you go find some new demon to trade secrets with after that particular shit-storm?"

Sam's expression was appropriately regretful – Harry couldn't blame him for it when Dean represented basically every regular familial role wrapped into one person, a person currently on the warpath – but Harry refused to be regretful from a few angry words from a dead man.

"That would imply Crowley was a new acquaintance," Harry interjected. "But I've known him for almost a decade."

That admission shut Dean up. He stared incredulously for several long moments as his mind worked to fit that bit of information in with what he already knew.

"He's the one? The crossroads demon?"

Feeling a little cowed by the look Dean was giving him, Harry nodded.

"The one you made your deal with?" Dean clarified.

Biting back a sigh, Harry gave his confirmation.

"And you just, what, have been hanging out with him ever since?"

"Not for the entire decade Dean; I was in no state – physically or mentally – to even want to think about tracking down the being who took my magic instead of my tragic life and try and have a friendly chat. But if it helps you somehow to imagine it that way then sure."

"I remember you saying something like that before," Sam said. "About your magic." He pointedly ignored the part where Harry flat-out admitted that he'd been fully intending to die. "That must have been difficult."

Harry didn't even bother trying to disguise his snort of laughter.

"I guess you could say that. In a way my terrible childhood was actually good practise. I knew how to live without magic, to do things the mundane way, how to function outside of the wizarding world. The hardest part was mostly the reality that even if I wanted to – and I wasn't nearly as magic-happy a person as, say, Molly Weasley, who used all sorts of housekeeping magic pretty much all the time – I wouldn't be able to cast anything. That, and there was a physical sensation of loss. People aren't exactly lining up to get rid of their magical cores, so I might be one of a very small number of people who has any idea of how your magic shapes you.

"I had people around to drag me out of any funks I got into, and if I got really bad sometimes I'd just imagine someone like Draco Malfoy in my position, stumbling about and trying to figure out how to do pretty much anything without the aid of magic or house elves, and I'd have a laugh and feel better about it."

"But you got your magic back," Dean pointed out.

"Yes, very astute of you Dean. Eventually Crowley decided my magic wasn't as much fun as he'd thought it would be, so he came back to rewrite the terms of our contract. We've been in contact on and off since then. And complain if you like Dean, but having someone hundreds of years old floating around who you can mine for information – even if that information usually costs – is pretty useful."

"Books are useful. The internet is useful. Carting a demon about is just asking for trouble."

Harry turned to Crowley and gestured helplessly, wondering if the demon was going to chime in at any point and maybe try and help out. Crowley just smirked at him, but he seemed a little lost in thought.

"You know how people come in different levels of kindness and douchebaggery? Demons are kinda like that too – maybe not the kind part, but the point is that they have different attitudes and opinions. I know there are way more Rubys out there than Crowleys, but that doesn't mean some of them can't be perfectly reliable."

"For a price, or the right incentive," Crowley added unhelpfully.

Dean was supremely unimpressed by Crowley's contribution. He turned his attention to Sam.

"And you! How long have you known about this?"

Frowning, Sam rubbed his chin in thought.

"Maybe a year at most?" he offered uncertainly. It wasn't like they'd noted it down on a calendar to celebrate the anniversary or anything. "I met him before you, well," he gestured vaguely downwards, not wanting to mention Hell out loud. "But way after we found out about Harry's magic. Harry was asking him if he knew anything about your contract. That's how we knew Lilith had it."

Thoughts of Lilith and how much of an epic failure their final plan had been dragged them all down for a moment, but they brushed it aside easily enough.

"Look, Dean, I can understand your annoyance. Past experience would prove its validity, and we did keep his identity a secret from you. To be fair, I wasn't expecting him to show up himself and refuse to leave, so I hadn't anticipated it being a problem so soon. But that's on me for not clarifying what the payment would be for the holy oil."

"Glad we're all on the same page," Dean grouched. "Can I gank this SOB?"

"Please don't," Crowley requested calmly. "I'm rather fond of this body. It would be such a shame to have to go find a living person to possess after all this time."

"I was thinking something a little more permanent," he muttered.

Thankfully Sam was currently in possession of Ruby's demon killing knife, so they didn't have to worry too much about a sudden and unhelpful demise, but that didn't mean Dean wouldn't try something if he thought he had a good opening.

"Crowley can leave if you want," Harry said, hands raised in placation. "But don't you think we should talk about this whole apocalypse thing first?"

The tension in Dean's body shifted from attack-ready to a more passive sort of stressed.

"It's gotta be bullshit," he said.

"But Dean, do angels even have a concept of lying?" Sam asked, one part genuinely soothing, two parts simply curious.

"I can't claim to have met many angels in my time, but that pathetic thing in there won't even use contractions. I doubt he's capable of anything other than following orders like a good little soldier."

Harry had to agree with Crowley's assessment. He wouldn't have put it so harshly, but it was true that Castiel's communicative quirks and general unfamiliarity with human emotional responses made it hard to imagine him as a deceiver.

"And if he was told to lie?" Dean prodded.

Harry answered that one.

"If he's not telling the truth, it's not because he was told to lie. It's because he was told a lie. He likely wouldn't have any reason to suspect untruthfulness from another angel, so he wouldn't question it. It would be a bold lie though. Either it's the truth, and we really need a way to stop it from happening ASAP, or it was a lie to get Dean out of Hell, in which case someone wants something from you. Either way, we're on their radar, and no matter what happens it's liable to be trouble."

"So it's the enemy we sort of know or the enemy we really don't," Sam summarised.

Harry nodded. "Something like that."

"It could be both," Crowley added.

"I really hope it's not."

"The distinction matters to me," Crowley continued, his tone suddenly serious instead of amused. "If someone Upstairs just wants to play around with you two chuckleheads, then that's fine with me, I'll leave you to it. But Lucifer? The Apocalypse? Humanity will be exceedingly lucky if they aren't wiped completely off the face of the Earth, and that? That would be bad for business."

"If you don't die with us," Dean countered, just to be contrary. But his eyebrows were furrowed in thought.

"Dean, listen. I know you don't like Crowley being here. I know you're mad that I introduced Sam to him. And believe me, I'm well aware that he doesn't care one way or the other if you live or die. But if Castiel's telling the truth, if the fucking biblical apocalypse is rearing its ugly head, then you – we – need all the help we can get. This isn't the time to be picky about where it comes from. You can't have enemies if everyone's wiped out of existence."

Harry hadn't exactly ever read the bible – he was hardly a religious person, and he only dug into things that were academically useful for a job he was researching for – but everyone knew on a basic level that the word 'apocalypse' meant really bad news. If Dean wanted to survive this – and Harry knew the Winchesters, he knew that now that they were aware of what was coming, there wasn't a self-preserving bone in their bodies that would stop them from fighting what no one else knew was coming – then he needed to shove his prejudice to the side and ask for help.

"I'm not super comfortable with this either Dean," Sam admitted, looking recalcitrant, as though he might have been betraying Harry's trust by saying as much. "Ever since Azazel, way back when we were kids, demons have been messing up our lives. And while Crowley definitely finds Harry interesting, that's not the same thing as loyalty. But what he said? His stance on all this? That's selfish. And that's why I think it's true. You don't have to like him. I'm pretty sure he doesn't like us much. But Harry's right. We're going to need help. You can't turn it away without giving it a shot."

Dean groaned as they teamed up on him, dragging his hands across his face.

"I can't believe I'm even thinking about this," he muttered.

"You don't have to make a decision right now," Harry assured. "Just 'cause Crowley refused to leave today doesn't mean he's going to be around 24/7. Even if you say yes, he'll only be around when we need him. He can do research on his own, and in places we can't go, and he has a phone, so he doesn't have to be here in person to relay anything he finds."

"I also don't answer to you," Crowley added.

Rather than set Dean off again, as Harry feared Crowley's words might do, Dean seemed to be thinking deeply. Maybe his refusal to even pretend to act subservient was somehow a relief? Merlin knows Harry wouldn't trust it if a demon starting deferring to him.

"As long as you're on our side…" Dean said slowly.

Crowley smirked and quipped, "Anything to ruffle a few feathers."

Dean sighed heavily. "I guess you two are right. Stopping the apocalypse comes first, and chasing off potential allies this early in the game is a dangerous play. Fine. But no one deals with him alone. Can we agree on that much?"

It would be an inconvenience, but Harry could see where Dean was coming from with the request. He nodded.

"No trust," Crowley bemoaned dramatically. "Even demons – well, ones with good business sense anyway – have their own sense of honour. I'm willing to honour a truce until Lucifer is firmly under lock and key, should that indeed be the situation, although I suppose I can't vouch for anyone else. Most demons are woefully dreadful at long-term planning and risk management. You should consider yourselves lucky to have me."

Harry elbowed him reproachfully in the side, but Dean appeared to be back to mostly ignoring Crowley's presence since he'd made up his mind. It was probably an excellent choice for his mental health – Crowley usually couldn't be bothered stirring the pot if no one was paying attention to him.

"Should we go back inside then?" Sam suggested.

Dean didn't say anything in response, but he did turn back towards the abandoned barn turned temporary holding cell, and the others followed suit.

Castiel was, predictably, right where they'd left him – more literally than usual too, as he may not have moved even a single inch from where he'd been standing when Dean had shooed them all outside; Harry didn't think angels were the type for nervous pacing.

Bobby wisely didn't inquire about their discussion, though Harry had no doubt that those questions would come later when they were somewhere private again.

Harry wasn't really sure where to go from here, but Dean jumped straight back into the fray.

"This seal business, break it down for me. How many seals there are, how many have to be broken, etcetera."

A small crease appeared between Castiel's eyebrows. "Uriel will be displeased upon my return. However, I suppose, having started an explanation, seeing it through will be no more harmful." He rolled his shoulders almost imperceptibly – was he flexing his wings? "Lilith will break the 66th and final seal. The first seal has already been broken. There are 664 other seals, which can be broken in – so far as I am aware – any combination and any order, of which only 64 are necessary. Listing them all would be time-consuming, and I confess to not knowing many of them. Raphael likely knows them all, as does Michael."

Though he may have had more questions, Castiel's answer had Dean speechless.

Harry gave a low whistle, reluctantly – morbidly – impressed.

"I guess that's why they call it a fated battle," Sam murmured. "The effort involved to stop it once the ball starts rolling is way more than what you'd have to exert just to see it to completion."

Bobby swore.

"You know," Crowley mused, mostly to himself, "I'd expected it to be more difficult to break our dear king out of jail."

"They wanted it to happen."

Everyone turned to stare at Harry at his quiet realisation.

"The righteous man was their litmus test. If he breaks, then humanity is in the pits anyway, so it's time for their angelic showdown. All the other seals are just flavour. With Lilith leading the charge it'll probably be child's play to break a mere 65 seals, so this is really just, what, a time buffer? To what, give Michael time to find a vessel in peace?"

"I do not understand," Castiel said. "Heaven does not wish for Lucifer's release; that was why I was sent to retrieve Dean Winchester."

"Well that's great and all," Harry allowed. "But there's no way Dean was the first righteous man to ever wind up in hell, and yet you're the first angel to launch a rescue mission. Doesn't that seem odd to you? Shouldn't every misplaced righteous man be treated to their own jail-break?"

"Dean was in Hell for four months," Sam continued, quickly latching onto Harry's line of thought. "If rescuing him was so important – if they really wanted to prevent the first seal from breaking – why did they wait so long? It makes for a dangerous gamble that you obviously lost."

"It took some time to gather the necessary power to attempt his liberation."

Harry nodded. "Uh-huh, sure. But listen, Castiel, I don't recognise that name, so forgive me for being assumptive but you aren't exactly one of the big-wigs, right? If preventing the apocalypse is a Priority Mission for the angels – which it kinda ought to be – then why didn't they just send one of the arch-angels? Wouldn't that have been far more efficient?"

"I… You are casting aspersions upon the Heavenly Host. My gratitude for your actions, Harry Potter, will not keep you safe if you continue blaspheming like this."

"Oh no," Crowley cried, faux-dramatically, "I think you've offended the poor thing. Watch out Luv, he might try and smite you."

"You don't need to talk," Dean muttered, side-eyeing Crowley with more than a little irritation.

"I don't think I'm blaspheming. Is inquiring about the decision-making process considered blasphemous? Or do you just take personal offence to us mere mortals questioning your actions? I'm not blaming you personally, you know? None of this is your fault. Dean's only standing here right now thanks to your efforts, so it's not like we aren't grateful."

"We're very grateful," Sam added unnecessarily in a calming tone. "But surely you can understand us wanting to know why, if it was possible in the first place, it took so long?"

"Don't waste your breath Bigfoot. Angels are programmed to obey, not ask questions. That little 'free will' thing you humans love? They aren't really fans of it on an operational level."

"Not even a little?"

"Take a real good look at Mister Foot Soldier over there and tell me he seems capable of making his own decisions."

Almost as one, the four humans allowed themselves to fall quiet and take a moment to stare Castiel down, observing.

"At the very least, he ain't pulling any strings," Bobby declared.

Dean's shoulders slumped as a realisation hit him. "Isn't questioning him kinda pointless then?"

"D'ya have any better ideas?"

"Dean, Bobby's right. This is the only thing we've got going for us. But, that being said, you're the boss on this one. It's your decision. We'll respect whatever you decide to do, right guys?"

Bobby grunted an agreement. Harry shrugged but didn't refute the statement.

There were a lot of things about the whole situation that didn't make sense.

Harry was starting to piece together a bit of an image of what Heaven might be like, if Crowley's remarks were in any way accurate, but that almost hindered them more than it helped.

If angels had free will and their own individual autonomy of thought and action, then that meant any one of them could be at fault for the seal breaking, through delaying tactics or purposeful misinformation or any other possible method of angelic subterfuge.

If they didn't, and the masses received and acted out orders given from above, then that meant it wasn't just some minor rebellion – it was a big time conspiracy. A conspiracy that no one knew about, because they were only told things that pertained to what they needed to do, and they didn't have the strength of will – or the urge – to question any of it.

Angelic powers on a whole were still a mystery to them, and their only source of information and point of reference was a simple soldier.

How on earth were they supposed to uncover the source of a possible pro-apocalypse group if it comprised of angels stronger and higher up the food chain than Castiel?

"If you want us to stop shit-talking you, you'd better keep a close eye on us," Dean said slowly, consideringly. "The best way to make sure we're toeing the line is to just stick around, right? I know you said something about other duties, but ain't I sort of your responsibility?"

Crowley grinned appreciatively. A demon always loved a good bit of manipulation, better yet if the victim lacked a proper understanding of manipulation in the first place.

"I do not-"

"You are basically his overseer now," Harry said quietly.

"That is not-"

"Look. Either you hang around to keep us on the straight and narrow, or you leave and you can't complain when we get into trouble, as we inevitably will, and maybe you get in trouble too, since you weren't keeping a close enough eye on us. It doesn't matter to us. We're just gonna keep doing what we do how we always have."

"If it makes you feel any better Feathers, I can keep a good eye on them while you're off in the clouds," Crowley added coyly in Dean's wake.

A dark look flashed across Castiel's face, more a sensation than a physical scowl.

"You will stay away from Dean Winchester, Demon."

Crowley laughed, so obviously delighted with how ruffled the angel had become that Harry almost wanted to laugh too.

"Make me."

A circular argument devolved from there between the angel and the demon, Castiel righteous and unyielding, Crowley poking and prodding and purposely aggravating without an end goal.

The four humans crowded together off to one side, watching the spectacle and each individually wondering how their lives had come to this point.


A/N: If all goes according to plan, the next update will be two chapters, but keep in mind that that update will not likely be any time soon.