Crowley sighs. He was trying to be polite. It has been five years since we met Dragoness. He had circled the date before he met her. He had let them know he was coming. He had shown up without weapons. He had left his contracts, even the standard rider, in Hell. His Hellhounds were all on errands far away from here. His mother was next to him for credibility.
"Call again Fergus."
"Mother, I've called three times and knocked six. I sent a bloody letter." Literally, it was bloody, they probably didn't like that it was carved on flesh Crowley. "Yeah, well appearances mean something Chew Toy. Either way they know I'm here." Rowena frowns.
"Maybe if I call…"
"Mother. I made it very clear. Tuesday. March. 1 pm." It's 12:58. "Yes, and at 1, I'm breaking down the door, again. It's-" There is a flash and out of the door to the abandoned house in the middle of bumblefuck nowhere comes a familiar face. Castiel.
"Crowley."
"C'ass, cutting it a bit close."
"The less time you are up here the better."
"Still rebuilding from the first time?"
"Yes."
"Well, don't steal my toys. Now...may we? I brought a friend."
"Hello Cas, how-"
"You brought many friends." Crowley pauses, and with fake confusion on his face he looks to each side.
"Cas. It's just us bugs."
"How many now Crowley?" Crowley sighs and throws up his hands in annoyance.
"This again. Really Cas-"
"How. Many?"
"It's not just about how many Cas, it's about who-"
"Crowley." Crowley frowns and looks at Cas with more annoyance.
"I hit 521,666 last week. Happy?" Rowena looks at her son for a moment, startled. She had not known he had gotten that far that fast.
"No. You're taking human souls and destroying them." Oh. Right, he doesn't know. This will be a fun evening. I wonder which he will hate more, that you're taking souls from Purgatory, or that you're succeeding where he failed? Crowley ignores me.
"You're never happy. And not destroying, changing. Now as I was saying Kerubiel and I had lunch last week in-"
"Kerubial has been missing for eight days, no one has seen him." Crowley looks as Cas like he is an idiot. He is. Sometimes. He had reverted a bit back to his old bluntness and literal interpretation of things since the Winchesters died. He visited them frequently, but he had his duties. Rowena sighs and shakes her head.
"Fergus, dinnae provoke him. It'll ruin the visit." She wasn't wrong. Crowley sighs and waves at Cas, he would figure it out eventually.
"So, are we getting the scooby gang back together or not? There hasn't been an apocalypse-like event in 78 years, and I got rid of the last one myself, let's celebrate."
"Crowley, you killed a nephilim, that doesn't constitute-"
"Ah, but did you know the mother was host to a demon at the time?" Cas pauses. "No? See, saved the world from another terrible cliche. You're welcome. Now, may we?" Cas grumbles but steps aside. It wasn't worth the damage or loss of life.
"Thank ye Castiel." Rowena nods as she passes him and pats him on the shoulder. He ignores her and frowns, adjusting his jaw as he looks both ways before following us.
The landing pad is Surrounded by angels, seraphim, cherubim, principalities… Crowley raises his eyebrows.
"I didn't bring enough for everyone." He holds up a rather large picnic basket and a bottle of scotch. The angels are unmoved. "Tough crowd….. Get stuck in my teeth." He whispers almost to himself and Rowena nudges him in the ribs. I'm laughing. I mean as morbid as it is, I always had a darkly sick and twisted sense of humor. "Thank you Chew Toy. See mother, someone appreciates my humor." Rowena rolls her eyes and takes the scotch.
"Cas, where are we going?" She asks with a glare at her son.
"Follow me. Do not stray fro-"
"The yellow brick road, I know skeleton wings." We follow Cas and the angels part before him. They scatter, in sets of three, to guard entrances, hallways, doors, every single pathway that isn't the one we are on. They had agreed to this only because the last time he had come up to visit friends he had destroyed an office, and the first time had been chaos. I hadn't known this at the time but he had fought his way to a hall near me and literally threw a piece of wood covered in sigils down. They had to get a soul to come move it.
I thought it was hilarious. I mean, scrap wood, covered in sigils. It was a floor at some point. Why had that not been done before?
Then I remembered I had asked him that question years ago.
Oops.
Heaven looks exactly the same. White. White white white. Fresh office building white. Insane asylum white. Boring as fuck. Crowley agrees. Even Hell was better than this monotony. We walk around a corner and a hall of a thousand halls lays before us. Cas takes a step and as we follow we all move an indeterminate amount of distance in a step, like the floor beneath us had shrunk to let our feet land where Cas wanted them to. It is disorienting. We repeat the process a few times and even Crowley is shaking his head a bit.
"Really, this was the best thing you could think of for navigating your souls?"
"And yours is better?"
"Yes!"
"I saw the line Crowley."
"And it works!"
"Boys." Rowena's tone is that of a mother, something I never got to be and so never mastered, but they both listen. A fight between the three of them would be catastrophic, anyway. I'd totally pay to see that.
Cas stops in front of a door, Bobby Singer. He looks at Crowley.
"If you even think of-"
"Hey, my friends too."
"You don't have friends."
"You'd be surprised, also I'd say the people in there have a different opinion." Cas sighs and opens the door.
"Rowena!"
"Samuel!"
And reunions ensue.
….
"I know we parted on bad terms Samuel, but I-"
"Rowena, it's fine."
"No Samuel, it's not."
"Rowena, I was 60. Dean was older."
"Damn right I was." Dean takes a sip of beer and toasts the air, proud he lasted that long as a hunter.
Everyone looks their preferred self, the age they liked themselves the best at. Bobby is still middle aged, how he looked he when he felt he had successfully been a father to the two men in his living room. His face is round and his beard red. He indeed does wear a cap, but he is a bit thinner, as if he hit on some lean times towards the end. Dean looks 50, his face still chiseled, but silver runs through his hair and he has a small bit of stubble. He is classically handsome and tall, a bit thicker than the actor that portrayed him, but his broad shoulders and the barrel belly speak of painfully hard labor and not exercise for pronounced muscles. Sam is thin, wiry with muscles that stand out all the more for it. His hair is long and in a ponytail, tied back and out of the way for reading.
All are indeed wearing flannel.
Crowley and Bobby are in the kitchen watching the exchange. Crowley shakes his head.
"Moose is….sigh."
"Forgiving?"
"Contradictorily so."
"Crowley, those boys are two contradictions wrapped in family issues and held together by beer and anger."
"Well a moose is an ungulate so I'm not surprised he's an oxymoron.. Drink?"
"You actually brought Scotch into heaven?"
"You say that as if they could stop me."
"We could." Crowley pauses mid pour and looks at Cas standing behind him, chaperoning, and sighs.
"Angel face, it was a comment about my love for scotch, not a challenge. Put your tape measure away, this isn't a contest." Jesus. Crowley, a little less harsh. "No Chew Toy, he needs to learn as you say 'how to social.' He's worse at it than you." Bobby's face is tight as he takes a drink.
"You still got that...prisoner I see."
"Rarely leaves my side. Well, right above my liver specifically, but still." Bobby shakes his head.
"Crowley, it's cruel. Let her out up here."
"And I'm a demon, nice to meet you. And she would hate it up here." I would. Creating for no one? Not able to get actual critiques on my art? Ugh. "Besides, you should thank her, she lets me feel things without knocking over blood banks, or people." Yeah, my feelings, not yours. Crowley sips his drink and leans on the counter. This was a fucking surreal experience. Frenemies galore.
"Your emotions are more controllable… and as for friends...that's why we have alcohol Chew Toy. Take out that last bit of vitriol."
"What are you both goin on about?"
"Frenemies. The tenuous line we walk between being drinking buddies and playing russian roulette with The Colt."
"You got The Colt?" Dean walks up with a beer.
"I do indeed. I lend it out on occasion to a wonderful band of hunters."
"Why in the lord's name would you of all people do that?"
"To...kill things Robert. I'm not sure what the misunderstanding is here."
"Yeah, but to give The Colt, to hunters, who could use it on you? That don't seem like you're thinkin straight Crowley."
"We have a wonderful deal, me and them. Multi-generational. Mooselette is a great great grandmother. I taught little Alexa how to shoot between the eyes last week at her birthday. Brought in a rugaru and everything." Bobby and Dean stare. "What? Call me Uncle Crowley."
"Yeah, an uncle that collects their fucking souls!"
"Well, that would kind of defeat the purpose of a multigenerational contract, wouldn't it Robert?" Crowley sips his drink and pauses as he notices them staring. "Yes? Have I grown two heads, or are your brains still processing?"
"So...then what's the play Crowley?"
"None. Only honest contract I've ever made. Well...there was another...but I didn't exactly make that one." Crowley sighs and toasts the air, a slight smile on his face. Dragoness. Crowley, are you in love?
"Don't be stupid Chew Toy, demons don't love."
"Ok, hold up. What? Crowley... spill." Says Dean leaning on the counter with his beer like a teen eager to hear about their friend's latest boy or girlfriend.
"The mighty demon Crowley, in love? With what, a statue of himself?"
"Watch it Robert, you're not far off…" He says with a side eye and a sip from his drink. "She is the only being in existence I am willing to admit, is my equal." There is silence, even Sam and Rowena have stopped talking.
Dean breaks it.
"What? You? You think someone is your equal? No... Sam! You hear-"
"Yeah, I heard. Who is it Crowley? What's her name?" Crowley smiles.
"She won't tell me." Castiel's eyes narrow at this.
"What, you meet her on one of those online dating apps you said Hell designed?" Asks Dean after a sip of beer.
"We met in Purgatory, afternoon-"
"Wait wait. Hold up." Says Dean holding up his hands and pointing his beer at Crowley. "You met in Purgatory? As in...Purgatory Purgatory?"
"You think I didn't read your journals as soon as you left boys? I know about the backdoor from Hell. I know everything."
"He turned it into a TV show." Cas's flat voice fills the room and half a second hangs before the air erupts with questions.
"You What!?"
"No way. Crowley, why?"
"You idjit, you know how many people that could put in danger?"
"You...have a girlfriend Fergus, and dinnae tell me?"
Crowley snaps his fingers a couple of times and the room silences. He looks at his fingers.
"Nice to know it still has an effect."
"What did you do Crowley?" Everyone tenses at Sam's question.
"Nothing, I just snapped. Now, mother, I don't have a girlfriend. We kissed once, for the contract. Trust me, she is not anyone you would want as a daughter in law."
"What the Hell did you find in Purgatory that you like enough to visit on a regular basis, and find a girl of all things?" Asks Bobby. Crowley blinks.
"Besides her? Nothing. I went to visit."
"Crowley. What were you doing in Purgatory?" Says Cas. Crowley pauses. Crowley was in Purgatory that time, specifically, to meet Bernard. C'mon Crowley... wait. Does your mother know you've been going there?
"No Chew Toy. She does not. And fine, I went there to meet someone. Bernard says hi Dean."
"Wait, you went to meet Bernie? Why?"
"He was causing some trouble near the gate to Hell. We sorted it, well my new friend did."
"Friend? Crowley, I. No, this is so far out there I don't even know what to ask. Sam!" Dean holds his hands up and walks away to the fridge.
"So, what's she like Fergus? Is she beautiful? Smart? Dangerous? Powerful?"
"Mother, she is more powerful than everyone in this room combined; and yes Cas, I'm including my new and improved self in that."
"Wait, so we're talking Lucifer level threat here?" Asks Dean as he shuts the fridge with another beer in hand. However Sam and Bobby are silent. They are not focused on the fact that there is a new creature, she's in Purgatory after all. They noticed something else.
"Not at all. She and her ilk have no interest in taking over anything, not that you could stop her."
"Crowley, what do you mean 'new and improved?'" The conversation pauses as Crowley turns to look at Castiel after Sam's question.
"You haven't told them... I thought this evening was going too smoothly." Says Crowley as he chuckles and smiles. The whole room's attention is now on Cas, who is silent.
"Told us what Cas? C'mon man." Says Dean. Cas is silent still. Sam stands up from the couch and heads over.
"Castiel... told us what?" Says Sam, his jaw hard and eyes concerned.
"Yeah, c'mon Casy, tell them." Castiel swallows and looks away at the King of Hell's comment. Oh boy. No wonder the Winchester's weren't trying to kill Crowley.
"I am ashamed."
"Of what? What the Hell could you have done that is worse than anything these two idjits have?"
"I...I failed." Crowley lowers his head and smiles before heading over to his mother. Sam grabs his arm and stops him as he passes.
"Oi, you may be a soul but you can still wrinkle my suit Moose." Sam doesn't let go.
"Failed at what, Cas?" Crowley rolls his eyes and turns back to Cas.
"Yes Cas, this is a safe space, unload your wings." Castiel tenses and glares at Crowley.
"Nowhere is safe with you around."
"You flatter me, I'd-"
"All right you two, quit your flirting and spill."
"I'm with Dean on this. Cas. We can help." Says Sam at which Cas looks alarmed.
"No. It's too dangerous. You don't understand what is at risk."
"Cas, if the world is in danger… it's kinda our thing."
"It's not." Everyone turns to look at Crowley. "What? It's not in danger." He's not lying about that, he doesn't want it, I knew, I could tell. He was happy with his little slice of Hell. I sigh, waiting for the coming explosion of horror and realization. Then blame. ...And I wonder how many will die again tonight. "No one Chew Toy. I took them off my list."
"List? What fucking list? Crowley, I'm startin to git a bit tired a bein led in circles here."
"I'm not the one leading. I'm on the donkey and I don't have the carrot or the stick Robert."
"Fergus, jest tell them. It's not like anyone can do anythin' about it."
"Mother, don't underestimate a Winchester. Saying that around them is like saying Macbeth backstage."
"What? Sam? You were a geeky theater kid, what the Hell does that mean?"
"It's bad luck... Crowley, how do you even know about- No, later. Cas, what the Hell is going on? Tell us."
"I failed."
"Yeah Cas, you said. Kinda need a bit more here bud." Says Dean as he sets his beer down.
"I failed to stop him. I… I couldn't stop Crowley." They all turn to look at Crowley, still held by Sam and drinking his Scotch.
"Crowley. You couldn't stop Crowley? From what? Buying suits? Dude, he's-" Dean is cut off by Crowley pointing a finger at him.
"If you say harmless, I will-"
"What? What will you do? I'm already dead and I know for a Fact you don't want us in Hell. We'd be there if you did. So what? What will you do?"
"Dean…"
"No Cas, I wanna know what he'll do." ...Fuck. Dean. Don't push him. Crowley...don't. You took him off the list.
"I can put him back on Chew Toy. I'm getting peckish." Crowley, c'mon. I mean if he was smart he'd get rid of all of them. Shit. Shouldn't have thought that. "You're not wrong Chew Toy. It'd be safest for me to put them back on. It wouldn't be the safest for the world though, and not only did I make a promise to Dragoness, I happen to like the world. It has food, scotch, and my adoring public. So no, not back on the list."
"Back on what? What promise?!" Yells Dean.
"Boy...I'm feelin somethin off here...best-"
"No Bobby. I wanna know! I've averted like four apocalypses, I think I have a right to some answers!"
"What do you wanna know' Squirrel?" Says Crowley with a smug smile.
"I-I don't even know anymore! Sam! What do we wanna know?!"
"What did you fail to stop Crowley from doing Cas? And what did you promise Crowley?"
"I promised her I'd keep your little planet running smoothly." There is silence. Again. Dean and Bobby don't understand yet; everyone else gets it. Even Sam. He remembers why Crowley wanted to help stop the very first apocalypse.
"What? Crowley? Why would you protect the freakin planet?" Yells Dean.
"Let me try to explain to your tiny brain in a way you'd relate to. If the diner is closed you can't exactly get a burger. If the earth is an ash covered wasteland, I can't get what I want."
"Which is what exactly, princess?"
"Taking souls." Everyone turns to Cas who has been silent for a while. Rowena is just quietly sipping a glass of wine, having given up on salvaging the evening and taking in the fight for entertainment purposes. It is pretty amusing. A 'who's on first' situation almost.
"Cas, he's ….King of Hell. He kinda...does that?"
"No Sam. Taking souls for himself. Like I did. With Purgatory."
"What? Cas... Explain, like, right now." Crowley smiles at Dean's anger laced question before sipping his drink. Rowena follows suit.
"He has 500,000."
"He has... How many?!" Yells Dean. Sam swallows and clenches his jaw.
"Excuse you, 521,666."
"Not helping your case here, really. 500,000. Crowley, what the Hell man?"
"521,666, and that's nothing Squirrel. Angel boy here had 40 mill riding him. I'd talk about the STDs… but well, he exploded. Leviathans, nasty infection. Want to get rid of those completely."
"Crowley. You need to give those souls back." Says Sam.
"Sorry darling, can't."
"Can't or Won't Mr. King a Hell." Says Bobby, glass of scotch on the table and a book in his hands. Crowley rolls his eyes and with a wave the book is gone and the glass of scotch in its place, almost falling to the ground before Bobby catches it. "What the Hell?"
"Can't. As in really, truly, can't. Not that I would, but that's beside the point. Now, Moose. Let go or I'll-"
"Oh my god what!? You'll what!?" Crowley sighs at Dean's outcry and snaps. Three pieces of paper appear in front of Sam and he lets Crowley go to grab them.
"Maybe I'll get more involved with my hunter group, train your replacements, and put you back on the list." Sam squints and sits down, going through names and words, eyes flying back and forth as he tries to figure out what it is. He would, both Crowley and I know that. Crowley sits down next to his mother. "Open the basket mother. While Sam figures out what that is we might as well eat." Cas stiffens at that. Bobby notices, and narrows his eyes.
"No..."
"What Bobby?"
"Nothing Dean. Let's... let's just eat."
"I did bring pie."
"You… brought pie?" Dean's eyes light up a bit at this.
"What can I say, I remembered the night with the triplets and-"
"Ok Then! Pie! Yeah!" Crowley and I chuckle at Dean's interruption as Rowena puts it on plates. Bobby sits down across from Crowley, face hard and filled with unconfirmed answers.
"So, Crowley. What was this multigenerational contract about? If not souls?"
"It's not much. They work for me, as hunters. If they get injured, I heal them of the ailments they don't want." Says Crowley, taking a piece of pie. It's good pie, strawberry rhubarb.
"Don't want? Why would someone want an ailment?"
"Well, some find being a werewolf to be advantageous for hunting."
"What?" Says Dean, his mouth half full of pie. "So we got hunters running around eating hearts now? That's just great."
"No. I heal them of that, just not the whole...furry bit. And close your mouth Squirrel, you're making me lose what little appetite I possess." Says Crowley as he puts the pie down, only a few bites out of it.
"Good." Crowley rolls his eyes as both Cas and Dean speak at the same time.
"Have some pie Robert." Says Rowena, pushing a plate toward the hunter across from her.
"Uh….thanks Rowena. So… what? Yer doin this outta the goodness a your own heart Crowley?"
"Did you not hear me say they work for me?"
"Doin what?"
"Their jobs. Not always the normal targets, yes, but I believe you'll approve when I say the British Men of Letters are an extinct species."
"Why? What was your beef with them?" Asks Bobby as he tentatively takes a bite of pie, forgetting for the moment that he's Dead and nothing in there will affect him.
"They attacked me, unprovoked, twice, and broke a deal."
"Now ya see, I find that a bit hard to swallow." Says Bobby. I could laugh. There was a joke in there and Crowley would-
"It's a bucket list...a menu."
Everyone turns to Sam.
"What? Like with burgers?" Both Crowley and I sigh. No Dean...Just...no.
"No...like with...people...species."
"What? No way Crowley got a taste for human meat just now. That's not news for any demon."
"You're not wrong Squirrel."
"Shut up Crowley. So...what's so special about it?"
"We were on it...but we're crossed out..."
"So? We're dead. If he wanted to eat us it's a bit past closing time at the old Winchester Bar and Grill."
"Yeah… but Alpha's are also on here. And Bobby." Everyone stiffens except for Crowley...and Dean who still hasn't quite got it. I sigh. I hadn't noticed that he hadn't crossed that name off. Of course he'd keep Bobby on there. It was too delicious a threat to hold over the brothers hardy.
"No Chew Toy. Ever since that kiss, I've wanted him insi-"
"Hold your tongue you pervert. I don't care if you fucki-"
"For you darling, I-"
"Both of you! Get a room. So… the list's old?" Asks Dean.
"But angels… and cherubs...and leviathans… are on it too."
"So he's a suicidal late idiot?"
"There are checkmarks next to some of them… like alpha...and cherub…" At this Castiel looks up. "Dean...Crowley is eating souls." Theeeere we go. And heeere comes the explosion.
"Like Cas did?"
"I...I don't think so Dean."
"Don't worry boys, you're pretty little planet is safe."
"You're eating Souls Crowley!" Yells Dean. "How is that safe!?"
"They are mostly from Purgatory." Cas looks at Crowley at this, conflicted just like Crowley and I thought he would be. On one hand they weren't human souls, on the other hand it would be harder to stop him.
"Mostly!?"
"Well some are demons."
"Some. Some. Great. Crowley!? What the Hell man!?"
"What? A girl can't go on a fad diet? Feathers did it."
"Yeah, and he exploded!"
"Well, I made some modifications. Souls first, leviathans last."
"You can't devour a leviathan Crowley, let alone an angel." Says Sam.
"Well, Kerubial would say otherwise." Cas starts forward. "Don't get your feathers in a bunch. I'm not trying Cherub again, it made my smoke sting."
"Pure grace should kill a demon. And if not I should kill you for what you did."
"Please, you've killed far more angels than I. And, well I wasn't exactly just a demon at the time of that lunch date, or now...or for the past 190 years...or forever." Everyone, including myself, if I could, stares as Crowley pauses with his glass almost to his lips. Seemed a theme this evening. "….What? You never wondered about the red smoke? I had theories...but I didn't really have any good idears until I met my Dragoness in Purgatory." I had to wonder if he was just bringing out the old tactic he used at cons trying to confuse his fans.
"Dragoness? The Hell does a dragon have to do with anything? Sure they are hard to kill but they aren't that powerful." Dean says and everyone but Cas seems confused. After a few second's pause Cas asks a very telling question.
"She wouldn't give you her name?"
"And she's the last thing on my list. She insisted."
"You met a Dragon."
"Yeah, we got that Cas."
"No Dean...Crowley didn't meet a dragon. He met a Dragon. He met one of the First Beasts. The Soul Writers." Dean and Sam stare.
"What the Hell Cas. How is there still shit we don't know about?" I mean… yeah that was surprising, but considering Crowley didn't know there were Dragons in Purgatory...
"Shush Chew Toy."
"Stop talking to this thing like it's here Crowley! It's creepy." Well, ow.
"Dean. You hurt Chew Toy's feelings."
"Fuck off Crowley, she ain't real." Ow. Jeez. Rude. I was gonna ask to say hi, but fuck him then. I'll just talk to Bobby.
"I think she is Dean." Says Sam with a glance at Bobby, "I think she's a soul he keeps. Right Bobby?"
"Yep. He's had her for what… going on 200 years now?" Fuck has it been that long? Fuck me.
"Later, if you're good. And give or take 20 years."
"Why? Why would you hang onto one soul?" Asks Dean. Rowena smiles into her glass. She may not remember the contract, but she remembered a few of her interactions with me. I feel a bit of pride, she likes me. Holy shit. ...holy shit. What the fuck did that say about me? Crowley smiles slightly at my reaction, letting my brief second of pride add to his own.
"Many reasons Squirrel, none of which I wish to discuss. Very personal."
"Crowley...what are you going to do with these souls?" Asks Sam nervously. Cas is barely holding it together at the door. Bobby is holding the plate with the mostly uneaten pie on it, and Dean is holding an empty one as if he could use it as a throwing star if needed. Sam is on a stool, just being wary.
"Destroy the leviathans. And some of the alphas. And maybe some angels."
"Why?"
"Simple answer, job security."
"And the complicated answer mister congeniality?" Says Bobby as he sets down the plate and goes to get some more scotch.
"Job security, scotch, and entertainment."
"What do you mean job security, Crowley?" Asks Sam.
"With you gone, who is going to save the world when the next idiot lets the leviathans out? Or goes into an alternate dimension and brings back an archangel? The constant wins and losses while you were alive were tiring boys. I'm organizing, obtaining assets, and gaining power so I never have to ride another roller coaster called Winchester again. That's it. I want to live my damned existence, do my job, and not be bothered by a world ending scenario every other year. I think a single billion or so souls out of 113 Billion is not a large amount. Besides, they make me feel." Dean and Sam have backed away with Bobby, and Rowena has been shaking her head. Cas is still standing in front of the door.
"Feel what? Not exactly a complete sentence there genius."
"No. Bobby. Like the blood-"
"You always were a smart moose Moose. They make me feel. I mean, there are other benefits."
"Like what?" Asks Bobby, still wary.
"Nothing that matters up here."
"We'll see." There is a flick of a switch and the lights change, and a devil's trap appears around Crowley in black light. Rowena sets her own plate down and sighs, ready to jump up and run if needed, or restrain someone. Cas shifts nervously from foot to foot. Of course Bobby Singer's heaven would still have traps.
"Bobby, turn it off."
"What? Cas, why?" Asks Dean. Sam has a feeling, but he is quiet, hopeful. Poor thing. Crowely sighs and sets the empty glass of scotch down.
"Well, this has been lovely, but I have a date with death in Samarra. So."
"You ain't goin anywhere you horny sonofabitch."
"First, nice double entendre Bobby. Second, she's sitting right there. Rude."
"It's alright dear." Says Rowena.
"No mother, you're a witch first, a bitch second. They should get their titles right."
"Bobby, turn it off."
"Cas, why?" Asks Dean again.
"Because it will-"
"It's fine Cas, I'm not Really going to put them back on the list. If I can't stop an apocalypse I may need them. Now, Robert, I'm giving you one chance to turn that off."
"Get bent Crowley." Says Dean. Crowley sighs and stands and looks at his mother.
"Shall we? I'm not really feeling welcomed right now."
"Fine Fergus, another five or so years." Rowena also gets up and goes to grab the picnic basket.
"Leave it, they can have the pie. I'll take the scotch and my list." Of course he would. I had been mostly quiet during this whole interaction, just watching, listening. I had been around for a long time, not as long as half the things in this room, but I was content to listen to their interactions. I could understand why Dragoness loved stories, was willing to 'die' for an interesting end, or chapter, in hers. That's all we have, stories. That's all we are. The stories we leave behind for others to tell of us. So I watch, and absorb, sometimes think, occasionally comment. Crowley smiles at my thoughts and holds out his hand, and with a snap the bottle of scotch is in it and the list is in his pocket.
"Balls."
Crowley looks about the room and steps out of the trap.
"BALLS." Bobby curses as Crowley and Rowena move toward the exit. Crowley pauses at the door. I sigh. He is such a drama queen. I mean, it was amazingly funny, but he was cruel.
"Cas, I finally found my appetite after Dean's pie took it. Usually I take ten or twenty, but since I'm raiding your pantry, I'll settle for one." Crowley takes out an empty jar, similar to the one I would be put into during 'dates' or where a bit of me was right now...in his other pocket. He shakes it. Cas is stock still. Expressionless.
"Crowley, you sonuva-" Crowley looks to the right and Dean flies against a wall. Rowena leaves the room, not wanting to see 'her boys' fight.
"Now, there are 50 to 70 billion choices if I'm correct, but I don't really feel like walking that far. So eeny," he points to the room to the right with the jar, "meeny," he points to the room to the left, "or mo-" He's about to point somewhere else when three voices pipe up.
"I'll go." Crowley raises a brow at the three martyrs. Sam, Bobby, and Cas. Dean can't move. Crowley looks at Cas.
"Really? I haven't tried seraphim yet. Do you-"
"No, Crowley. Me. Take me." Crowley smiles slightly but shakes his head.
"No. Separating team moose and squirrel is just a bit worse than having you together. So. Sorry, you aren't on the menu."
"Crowley, shut your fat face an-."
"Bobby-"
"Cas, you shut your gab too. I been up here for over 200 fucking years. I'm already on the list, apparently, so I'm earmarked for Hell. You aren't Cas. You could actually help stop this still."
"Really Robert, like I'm doing something any of you Wouldn't if you thought it would keep the earth safe?"
"You're doing this for yourself Crowley." Says Sam in a hushed tone.
"Yes, but keeping the earth safe is a nice bonus. So... Robert, Cas, who is going in the takeaway jar?"
"I ain't going nowhere in no fucking jar." Crowley blinks.
"Your choice." Crowley snaps and both the jar and the scotch vanish as he bursts out, filling the room with smoke. He leaves all the other souls back in his suit, except me, he keeps me with him, hidden in the smoke so there is no chance of an angel grabbing me.
Heaven stings, him, his smoke, it hurts to be out of his suit and up here. I help a bit, not much, but a bit I think. The room is like a storm, red clouds moving quickly in slipstreams of wind, bits of white and pink flying around like bits of snow.
"Bobby!"
"Idjit, let go!"
"Cas help me!"
"Sam, I-"
The smoke freezes, and then reverses. Moments later the room is empty, and turning white. Dean and Sam look around frantically. Sam at his hands that probably held Bobby's moments before. Dean at the table that holds the pie, not because of the pie but because of how it falls to the ground as the table beneath it vanishes. Without it's tenant, the room is losing cohesion.
Crowley straightens and moves his jaw around.
"Old rotgut...aged 20 days. A bit of an improvement Robert. Now, give me a moment, I need to do some housing management. Evict some tenants." There were two previously contracted souls next to me; they vanish, disintegrate with a thought. Cas flinches next to Crowley and Crowley looks up at him. "Senses a bit more fine tuned at home giraffe?" Cas shifts and clenches his jaw.
"What did he do Cas? Is Bobby ok?" Asks Dean as he picks himself up from the floor.
"He just...absorbed two souls. A...a Jared and a-"
"Toni." Says Crowley as he moves Bobby next to me. "Chew Toy. Meet your new, perhaps permanent, roommate."
"Balls."
Yeah. Pretty much. Hey. Welcome to casa a la Crowley. Don't worry, he can't really eat you. Not a whole fresh soul. Not yet. Not without help.
"What about you?"
Bobby, I could be gone in an instant, should have been years ago. Just listen to me, feel. You'll understand. I'm not gonna say it'll be fine-
"Give him back Crowley!"
"Idjit. Dean, for all-"
"Robert says, and I quote, 'idjit.' He's fine. And he will continue to be fine, if you sit up here peacefully with your beer and harps, and Don't Interfere!" Sam swallows and Dean looks furious, about ready to charge. "I'll even bring him back in 5 years for you to talk to."
"You'll...let him out?"
"I said I'd bring him back up, not let him out to play. You can ask Cas if he is still there, apparently. Now, I really do have a date, so…Cas. Boys. Enjoy the pie Dean."
"Cheeky bastard." Crowley smiles as he turns to go, and once again pauses.
"Now boys, I really don't want to be another apocalypse, I only want to do my job. I just happen to be better at it than anyone else."
…..
We walk out of the door to heaven with a flash, the sound of slamming behind us. Rowena sighs.
"Fergus, did ye really have to provoke them?"
"Mother, I saw the look in their eyes. They were ready to jump back in the game headfirst. At least now I have some insurance."
"Yeah. Me you-"
"Now Robert. We are just getting acquainted on a more intimate level. Why not wait until I know a bit more about you, for us to fight like an old married couple?"
"Go shoot yourself-"
"Or I could have you do it...like you did to your father?" Silence. "That's what I thought. I...My Robert. That's quite a bit of anger. Do keep it coming."
"You sick sonuva-"
"Witch. Now, I have a call to make." Crowley takes out his phone and dials, then puts it on speaker. "Ranni. Finally find anything on Dragoness yet?"
"Just that a dragon did indeed help write the first contract. She apparently had a team help her test it. After that she wrote the crossroad commandments."
"Pardon?"
"Buried away deep in an old archive. Five rules that cannot be broken when it comes to making deals."
"I assume you wrote them down?"
"Of course not. I memorized its location. Cabinet 30567ZA. Folder Q." Crowley snaps and a piece of vellum appears in his hands. The ink is red and old and in a language I don't know. Crowley does.
'One. Something must be exchanged. Two. If a soul is involved both parties must know. Three. The contract must be between a demon and at least one non-demon being for the power to warp reality to work. Four. Contacts must be sealed by a kiss, a signature, or both if the contract is personal to a specific demon. Five. All contracts will belong to the King of the Crossroads first and the King of Hell second.'
There is a seal at the bottom. One of the most complicated I have ever seen. It shines and shimmers despite there not being any magic flowing through it. I wonder…
"If that is her name, Chew Toy?" Yeah. I have no fucking clue how you would pronounce that. "I believe that is the point."
"I ain't never seen a sigil like that before." Oh Robert. You are in for some surprises next week.
"Why? Is that the night Crowley bathes?"
"No Robert, that is the monthly trip to Purgatory."
(Guess who's work thing is over for a bit. Yeah. Me.)
