The hours pass and I feel barely any different than I did eight hours earlier when I left the little bit of Hell on the balcony. I stand there again now, the priest on one side, Ranni on the other, me still tied up. Once again numb and uncaring. The switch between these two states is becoming tiring, I hope it ends soon. I am unfazed by the three corpses next to us, one ripped in half, one with the upper torso missing, and the last with a missing eye and a whole apple shoved so far into his mouth the jaw is broken. It's the one that shoved the apple into the struggling guard's mouth. Crowley hadn't appreciated the cliche.
Father Winster is shaking next to me as he looks at Crowley who sits back in his human body sipping at a drink. Crowley looks from him to me, and my numb smile, and frowns.
"Well?"
"She...she's human. It was never going to work. I...I told you. I am sorry but the ritual is meant for demons. With time it could be perfected to halt or reverse the change from human to demon but as it is it-"
"What I am hearing is that you Failed." He looks at the priest who is still shaking, at Ranni who stands silently waiting for orders, then at me. He frowns, unhappy with the result and ready to take his anger out on someone. I'm the only one available, and he might take that even though I'll break further. He looks at the group before him and stands, making a quick decision. He walks forward and stops in front of the priest, his presence threatening beyond belief despite being two inches shorter than the holy man. The fact that there is an eyeball floating in his drink probably helps along with the myriad of corpses.
"I don't tolerate failure. So. Drink."
"W-What?" The priest manages to stammer out as Crowley takes a step forward. He holds out the drink and waits.
"Take it." The priest reaches out slowly with a shaking hand and as soon as he has the slightest grip on the glass Crowley lets go. "Figure out how to make the spell work before Saturday, or you won't fail me a third time." He looks to Ranni and nods. "Make sure he enjoys that drink to the fullest." She returns the gesture and drags the priest with her into the house. Father Winster goes willingly, stunned at the turn of events. He looks at the drink as he walks, and near drops it, as the drink looks back.
Crowley looks at the three remaining demons and they all shift or swallow in various states of uncertainty and fear. "Bring me the angel. Cuffed. You have half an hour." They all nod and quickly leave. Crowley turns and looks at me all tied up and begins to circle me. "What should I do with you while we wait?" I sigh, bored and once again, unable to feel fear or anger. The gag is removed with a thought and I cough, jaw tired from being held open. I move it around in circles as Crowley paces. "Well? I asked you a question. What should I do with you?" He snaps and the bonds and gags vanish. I stretch a brief moment, then answer.
"Eat me, torture me, kill me, fuck me." Crowley pauses his laps and I can feel his eyes on me. "You wanted ideas, there are four very basic ones, your current 'go to's' I believe." He continues to circle, I can't gauge his reaction without turning to follow him, and I just don't care enough.
"Which one would you prefer?"
"I really don't care." There is silence for a brief moment before he returns to view in front of me.
"Well then, why not all four?" I sigh as his hand roughly grabs my face and I shrug.
"Sure, why not." His eyes stare into mine a moment, then he pushes me away, disgusted and bored with my inability to feel or react. I am currently a chew toy that doesn't squeak. I'm broken, and not in any fun way. He walks to the table we sat at drinking a few days ago and beckons me to follow. I do, not really having any reason not too. We sit, I where Robert was and he where we sat. He sighs and stares at me with bitter disappointment that his toy may never regain its luster.
"I am so glad I'm not a pit demon. This boring stage of the change is aggravating. I'd just end up leaving. I don't know how they stand it."
"Probably by picturing the person on the rack as an object and just using them for pleasure, not expecting a reaction. So when they do get one they are pleasantly surprised instead of disappointed. Like a pessimist who's given up on the world." Crowley blinks.
"Well, at least you're still intuitive. Let's try it, couples often use toys when the relationship has gotten dull." I look at him with a blank face and wonder at the metaphor.
"If I'm the toy, then who is the couple? You and the myriad of souls you possess? I'm surprised that after your last marriage, which was by all accounts successful, you'd turn to polygamy. So is it just you and your red dick?" Crowley regards me curiously.
"And you still have your wit."
"Those were genuine questions." He doesn't miss a beat and after a quick huff of a chuckle retorts with a response that I believe should terrify me.
"Well, I suppose I could answer them, but I've always preferred 'show' rather than 'tell'."
I watch as he bursts out of his body, red smoke filling the air and circling a moment before the odd transition to solidity starts. I watch the smoke roil and grow appendages until a full demon steps out. He lands with a thud, facing me with the stars just beginning to show above his head, like little bits of soul.
At this moment we are again interrupted as two demons come in with a shackled angel, throwing him into the circle and quickly leaving, having no want to be included in this. The risk that came with being able to watch was just too great for them.
Cas stumbles and looks up at Crowley, and then at me, and then at the crown on the demon's head.
"Crowley. Why am I here? Where are Sam and Dean?"
"Alive and not here. I need to know if you can fix something for me." Castiel frowns.
"Why would I even consider helping you?" I giggle and both of them look at me, surprised at the outburst from the blank faced person. Emotion has decided this moment would be a good time to return. Crowley scowls at the fact that he could have started having real fun if Cas had not appeared. Cas looks at me more closely. "Is that…?"
"Chew Toy. Yes. Can you fix her?" Crowley snaps and my soul once again flies out into his hand. Cas stares and then frowns, and then slowly smiles upon seeing my soul tinged with black. I can't imagine it looks like anything less than an angsty teen who bleached their hair and frosted the tips a cliche 'ebony' in an attempt at being edgy.
"You broke your 'toy' and want me to fix it. Why should I?"
"I was hoping because you would be healing a soul. Don't you in particular have a love affair with helping out poor innocent hopeless cases?"
"She is not innocent. At least that is what she believed, and-"
"Tortured then."
Cas glares at the interruption and continues.
"And from what I know of her she would consider this...just and poetic punishment, for both of you." I'd laugh out loud if I could. It is true, this is truly poetic justice. Crowley glares at me in the palm of his hand, closing it and crushing me, putting pain into every fiber of my being. I remain silent, curious at his sudden lack of power over me, a being who just doesn't care about their fate. After all, the things I'm still afraid of are boring and require him leaving me for eternity. Which is still a reprieve from him, and I'd eventually go insane and then it wouldn't be punishment anymore. Every other fear either he, Hell, or this change, had destroyed. He's too hands on to just leave me alone anyway.
Cas watches, as unconcerned with my pain as I am. "I see no reason to help even if I can."
"Before we fight over such a thing, can you even fix her?" Cas regards me for a moment before replying, mildly interested.
"A tortured soul on its way to becoming a demon has never been brought to an angel before. So I do not know. I would have to try-"
"You'd have to touch her." Cass tilts his head and stares at the odd statement.
"Yes, I believe most healing requires some form of contact. Is that a problem?" Crowley mutters and looks at the body he had pulled me from. He can't put me back or let Cas hold me because at the moment I have no qualms about breaking the NDA on my contract. I had held onto my last bit of caring to try to help Bobby, but now, I don't care if my telling Cas gets him killed. It is just another thing I can do to piss Crowley off, to try to get him angry enough to kill me. And he doesn't want that, because that means I win. And he is done losing on anyone's terms but his own. He could put me back in the body and take my tongue, but Cas could always heal it, try to find out things.
Cas watches Crowley as he listens to me, face twisting in anger at my thoughts.
"What is going on Crowley?"
Crowley curses. He has scenes set out in his head for the fight and he wants, needs them, to go as planned for him to succeed. If he can't control me, that poses a problem. He needs me to empathize with others and care for them if I don't care about myself anymore.
Demons don't do that, and neither of us know what I'll be like as a demon. Even if he wanted to turn me into one and turn me back just this once, he might not have enough time. He can't use someone else in my place, apparently, not if he wants the element of surprise. That is assuming I'll even go along with this plan once I am normal again. Why would I?
Crowley holds me up to him, a mouth and hollow blank eyes on a featureless face stare at me. He knows my thoughts, and he most definitely does not like them.
"Because I will rip your ability to create right out of your soul. I will leave you your memories of art, show you things you've made so you ache with want. I will return that ability you so pride yourself on and rip it out again, and again, and again, for eternity. Its absence made more painful each time I tear it from you. I will-"
"Crowley, can you not control-" Crowley closes his hand and glares at the angel. The crunching of bones fills the air as he squeezes his hand tighter. He is in the middle of making a threat that I cannot decide whether I should be afraid of or not. He turns back to me with little concern for the angel.
"I will never ask for your assistance in anything ever again and use you solely for my amusement, my addiction, my pleasure. I will return your humanity and make you watch as I use others' ideas in your absence. And when they are used up you will watch as I kill them, letting them die like I will never let you. I will-"
"Crowley. I-" Crowley glares at the angel who is growing annoyed with the disrespect and dismissal, leaking impotent rage in the enochian cuffs. I sit in the clawed grasp, still confused and trying to decide how I should feel about the threat. I honestly don't know what would be left of me if he took my ability to create. A small orb of stress probably. Crowley remains unconcerned with my self examination and continues his conversation with what is probably a future meal.
"You will help me or I will revive Robert Singer on the spot and you will join him." Cas looks up in confusion at the last statement.
"I don't-" Crowley takes a third hand and draws a single razor sharp nail into the flesh of his stomach. The wound bleeds sluggishly until he slowly peels back the skin and fat and flesh to reveal a row of bars made of that bendy iron like cartilage.
"Crowley. While this display of self mutilation is disturbing I don't see its purpose …" Crowley looks down smiling and looks back at Cas as he pulls the skin back further, illuminating the hungry jail cell. Light floods from lamps on the roof, hitting a half dissolved corpse, bones poking out, flannel falling apart, eyes dull. Cas stands unmoved but trepidatious until the light hits a familiar hat. Cas's expression grows hard and his voice fades. He may not have known Bobby particularly well, but he was a friend, ally, and good man. He was also very dear to Sam and Dean.
"You were there when I made a promise; the boys leave me alone, I leave Robert alive." As he talks he puts his flesh back in place, sending the corpse into shadow. His stomach quickly starts to repair itself and Cas casts angry glowing eyes at Crowley.
"Where is his soul?"
"In one monstrous piece... for now." The last bit of flesh is replaced and the outline of the hat vanishes behind red flesh stained further into crimson by blood; Crowley's and his meal's. "And if you help me, I won't put it back into his body to live another few days."
"He...survived days in-"
"Well, being a werewolf probably helped-"
"He-...What did you do Crowley!?"
I watch as Cas winces while Crowley's hand closes more, his telekinetic powers crushing him from afar as his other hand reaches out to hold him directly for a more tactile experience. All of Crowley's hands are active; one holds me, another is healing his self inflicted stomach wound, the last two are dealing with Cas. One wraps around his middle while the other lets go of its telekinetic grasp to caress the angel's chin.
I watch this, sense it through my soul as I remember what Crowley had done to Robert. I wonder if the choice of a werewolf was more than just convenience and immediate torture. Had Crowley chosen that so Robert would last longer? Was it a sick parody of a joke about sex in bed? It probably went all the way back to his statement about fantasies, Robert 'being inside him' as the hinted at desire. Knowing Crowley there are at least five layers to this innuendo.
"There is no shame in using something to enhance your performance Chew Toy." There was another layer. I think at one time I'd find this witty, even sexy. Intellect was something I looked for at one point I think. Now I just feel… empty.
"If I were not bound by these cuffs I-"
Even outside of Crowley, just floating in his hand, I can sense his plots and excitement. He regards the angel and his second mouth smiles cruelly.
"Fine. We'll fight. A practice round for a future bout I have planned. You win. You walk and I'll put Robert back together outside of his current home. I win. I get everything. Your assistance. You. Robert. Chew Toy. A three course meal that I will enjoy very very slowly." Cas stares.
"And if I don't agree?" Crowley smiles and lifts Cas up further, his second mouth opening wide. The tongue reaches out and licks Cas's face, slathering it with saliva.
"I only get two thirds of what I want, and instead of trying to trick Sam, Dean….and Jack, I will just kill and eat them all. And most definitely not in that order. So...one more deal for old times sake? Or am I having wings tonight?"
It's better than nothing, this deal. Cas has a chance with this, which is stupid. Of course Crowley craves everything in this form; fights, adrenaline, those are fun, and there is a very slim chance he would lose.
However Cas shakes his head.
"No. Not unless we change the conditions of a winning scenario. If you cannot die I cannot beat you. I say what would be a death blow should count." Well at least people are starting to catch onto that. Oh, Casy boy was taking some lessons from Sam in law and loopholes. Crowley frowns but his smile quickly returns.
"Three hits, fencing rules." He looks at me and smiles. Right, I used to fence, so if I remember right that meant depending on the blade and format certain hits would count and others wouldn't. Would Cas know that?"
"Death blows only. I am a trained warrior, I will not limit my ability by confining my skills to-"
"Fine. Death blows only. But first." He raises me up and drops me into his second mouth. I land with a slight bounce and float, my light illuminating the corpse in front of me. Slowly being eaten away by acid and smoke, digested and dissolved. I look at the corpse and the meat and feel a strange twinge, and a snap. I'm unsure what it means, but have no time to reflect as Crowley takes a moment to rearrange my location, away from Robert's body and the other hungry red jail that tears souls apart. I am alone in this cell, no distractions. So I try to figure out what that snap was but I am impeded by my anger at being denied a chance to get my own hands bloody or food in my belly. I pause again, trying to remember if this is normal. And remember that I have no stomach.
Crowley looks at Cas and snaps, the handcuffs vanishing as he drops the angel unceremoniously. Cas lands on his feet and looks up at the monstrosity in front of him. He holds out his hand and waits.
"I require a weapon."
"And I need to hear those four little words." Cas sighs, but acquiesces.
"We have a deal." Crowley nods and with a snap an angel blade appears in Cas's hand. There isn't a second to think. As soon as the blade appears Cas lunges forward, and Crowley barely steps back in time, still getting a deep cut in his leg for his trouble. Crowley doesn't speak. There will be no banter during this fight. Not until Crowley thinks it is absolutely necessary to make the angel mess up. This is a fight to be savored. Both of these men have lifetimes worth of experience, and Cas has more than Crowley. This is a fight Crowley could lose if he isn't careful, not that it matters, he had worded that deal carefully, as always.
Simple deals always have implications attached, things that a decent person would assume. Crowley is not a decent person. If you sold your soul for money, but didn't stipulate that you wanted to live to use it and were killed by a mugger three days later, that was your own fault. So if he said he would let Robert out and give him a body, he would. But he didn't say he would free him…
Crowley slashes downward with a clawed hand and Cas dodges, and then ducks under the second coming for him. He misses the third, which he deemed not as important to dodge perhaps. It's a backhand, but the double edged claws slice his face and a line of red appears on his cheek. Fighting something with four arms will take a bit of getting used too. Still he ignores the cut and dives for Crowley, dodging another swipe and rolling between the tall legs. He tries to stab upward but is kicked aside and the leg slams down, the three points intent on spearing him through. Cas turns at the last moment managing to avoid most of the points, only the leftmost one impaling his right shoulder. Cas doesn't cry out, merely stabs up and to the right with the sword attempting to impale the leg. Sparks fly as the sword hits the metal like bone. He struggles to free himself but there is just enough muscle around the spear-like appendage in his shoulder to make ripping free a long arduous task. Crowley doesn't laugh or speak; he just leans over with one long nail pointed towards Cas's heart. The nail is about to pierce flesh when Cas stops struggling and throws the angle blade up.
Crowley pauses, the blade embedded in his chest. Cas coughs, blood staining his teeth.
"Well, you're not getting that back." Says Crowley as he continues to put his weight on that one nail, pushing it into Cas's chest.
"You...you're supposed to reset between bouts." Cas coughs out as the nail slides in.
"You said no fencing rules, just three death blows. So...one." Crowley takes another arm and points a finger at the stomach, slowly pushing that in as the angel beneath him struggles to free himself. "Two." Cas grunts but holds back screams, intent on getting away and nothing else. With a third arm Crowley pulls the blade from his own chest and slowly levels it at Cas's neck. "Thre-"
Cas yells out, white light flashing from his eyes. Pressure starts to rise and the air around Castiel burns as his wings begin to fizzle into view.
A pure demon touching an angel's wings is going to hurt no matter how powerful the demon in question. Crowley's fingers burn with the full force of heaven as Cas starts to manifest their remnants and Crowley recoils. The angel blade falls to the ground and Cas catches it, slamming it between the three prongs of the foot embedded in his shoulder and twisting the blade.
Crowley screams; the air fills with the sound of real pain and anger as a bit of his foot is broken off. Castiel rolls away, the bony spear still in his shoulder as he stands. Crowley glares, his second mouth still screaming, and flicks one of his hands. Castiel flies into the wall hard enough to crack it as Crowley takes the reprieve to examine his foot.
It isn't healing fast enough for him, after all a whole piece is missing. He exhales quickly and slowly starts to walk toward the angel, carefully balancing his weight, fire in his eyes. I cannot see it, but I can feel his rage. It boils and consumes me in red roiling smoke that whips about, flinging me around my small prison. The only way I know what is happening because Crowley is letting me. Perhaps he is so used to doing it that it is second nature, perhaps he is being nice and letting me see, perhaps he is being cruel. I do not know, but I am happy to not be in the metaphorical dark.
I watch as Castiel's eyes flare and his wings finally come into this reality. They stretch and put off scalding invisible heat, energy, that hurts to get near. They are still blackened and missing many feathers, but they feel powerful, they exude it. Crowley doesn't care anymore. They burned him once, set him on fire. Perhaps they would do so here; he is willing to take a few burns to win this fight.
Castiel pushes against Crowley's mental hold and cracks it, falling inches closer to the floor. Crowley allows him to drop the rest and leaps forward breaking his slow gate as Castiel hits the ground. The sword flashes forward and Crowley parries with one of his larger arms, catching the blade in the hole of his forearm.
Both of his larger forearms lack flesh except for what covers the bones. By all rights the hands there shouldn't work, they lack the musculature needed for any articulation, but what does that matter when you're a being born from pain and magic?
Crowley flicks his wrist and the blade goes flying, clattering against the red stone. There is a tense second of inaction and then Crowley reaches toward Castiel as Castiel closes his wings before him with the intent to burn the demon. Two hands grab for the angel but close on a wing instead. As his hands touch the angelic remnants they burn and he tenses for a second.
That is all Cas needs and he dives between Crowley's legs, intent on reaching the blade. Crowley however holds fast to the wing despite his burning and igniting flesh. Cas jerks to a stop and Crowley grins, reaching for the escaping angel with eager anticipation. Cas does the only thing left available to him, he punches straight up.
The resulting pain is immense and shoots through every single one of Crowley's stomachs, and therefore me, on its way to his brain. I had fortunately not experienced this pain yet despite having inhabited a male body on occasion for many centuries. It's indescribable and sharp, quickly building to a point that it can't be understood except in relation to the aching agony around it. Nausea follows and Crowley lets go of the wing to clutch his stomach. The pain, whether he can turn that into pleasure, doesn't matter. The fact that it hurts at all, doesn't matter. What matters is he does not want to lose Any of his meals, flesh or otherwise. He manages to keep us all down and turns toward Cas.
"If you wanted to touch me there, you could have just-" he turns to find the blade plunging into his belly. He gasps, nearly losing control of the nausea again, but quickly decides the best way to prevent anything from coming up, is to put something else down. He leans over, attempting to get the angel before him into his second mouth, but Cas pulls the blade out and dodges to the right. However, it is not far enough.
There is a scream as Crowley wrenches up with a mouthful of bone, sinew, and a few feathers. The few feathers burn for a brief moment, but now that they are no longer attached to the angel they pose less of a problem. The half of the wing still attached is jagged with broken bones. It weeps red onto burnt black flesh in a far more demonic image than befits the angel it's attached to. Crowley doesn't stop to ponder it, he leaves his second mouth to chew half a wing while he reaches out for the angel with red tinged claws. Cas quickly attempts to stab Crowley again, but only gets a glancing blow in his grogginess due to the intense pain of losing a wing.
"Dragoness did say angel feathers get stuck in your throat but I'm willing to chance that for you." Cas's face shows more emotion than I've ever seen as the wing slips out of sight with a single swallow. Crowley snaps and Castiel freezes in place. It's only for a few seconds but it is all Crowley needs to grab the angle by the shoulders with all four arms and quickly lean down again with an open mouth. He straightens up and like a bird swallowing a fish tries to get the struggling angel down, the ½ and full wing proving to be a bit of an obstacle. Castiel is attempting to stab Crowley's throat with no luck, there isn't enough space, just as there isn't enough space for the wings. Crowley grabs Castiel by the ankles and pulls him out, his teeth raking cruelly against the beautiful tan flesh of the Indian man Cas inhabits. The blade is plunged into the center of Crowley's throat, and is ignored as he reaches for the other wing. His hand burns briefly before he rips the wing out as Castiel screams in agony. Crowley grabs the blade with another hand and pulls it out of his throat, banishing it while throwing the wing to the side. Crowley smiles cruelly while he waits for his throat to heal so he can speak.
"Too little too late. And now I don't just get the wings, I get the whole bird."
"I...got three blows...Crowley."
"After you were in my mouth, where I could have crushed you. So. Be a good ostrich and let me help you bury your head like a flightless bird should. If you're good I'll drop your wing down before I kill you so you can see it one last time." Cas's hands reach out weakly to brace himself on either side of the mouth, attempting to keep him above the razor sharp teeth. Crowley tuts and shakes his head. "We had a deal Cas. Don't be like the Winchesters and renege."
"You are trying...to eat me." Says the angel as he is pushed closer to the open mouth and tongue, which is already licking Cas's face greedily.
"No. There is no try." Cas blinks.
"Is that a... reference?" Crowley pauses for a moment at the comment.
" I suppose it is. I'm surprised you recognized it. Good for you." And Crowley pushes the angel down.
The trenchcoat is ripped to shreds by the teeth as Crowley swallows. He sends every feeling into me; every struggle, every twist, every movement as the angel slides down, choking Crowley as Cas frantically claws at the inside of the throat in an attempt to stop his descent. His feet kick up past the second mouth towards Crowley's head, rubbing and pushing the sensitive flesh as Cas tries to not slip downward. He is failing against Crowley's continuous attempts to swallow him, even an inter dimensional throat is not that long after all, but he is not failing fast enough for Crowley.
"Your trench coat is revolting. I'm not fond of the taste of cheap cloth and failure so go down like a good whore already. You've been the Winchester's little slut for long enough, it shouldn't be hard to switch pimps so… Go. Down." He says, his voice quiet and gurgling with his lower throat full. Crowley snaps to freeze his meal, and while the movement stops, it stops completely. The angel is stuck.
Crowley frowns then hits his chest and coughs, swallowing again, heavily, to push his newest prisoner down. He succeeds with the second swallow of air and his muscles push the angel into the topmost prison. The paralysis lifts and the brief frantic attempt at escape fills Crowley with amusement as he snaps a glass of water into existence. Crowley sighs as he rinses his mouths out, tired but satisfied with the outcome. I am just curious about how Cas is supposed to fix me from there, from inside. It's like the most grotesque homage to a tardis possible.
"Why do you think I laughed so hard when Padalecki couldn't fit inside the replica? There was more than one metaphor there darling." Crowley takes another deep breath and sits, leaning against a wall, both smaller arms folded across his stomach. He reaches for the wing with the other arm and with the remaining hand snaps. Suddenly I am next to another being, providing a dim light for him to observe his grave with.
Castiel looks haggard. Flesh ripped but quickly healing…. Except for the wings. Bones stick out, many broken in half on one side, missing on the other. They glow for a moment before fading from view. Cas reaches out and holds me, the near soul turned demon. His face illuminated by my light I can see his defiance, curiosity, and anger. It doesn't interest me. Now close to another being besides Crowley I feel something new.
I'm hungry. Not just empty, so empty it aches. Please. Feed me or kill me Cas.
"I can't kill you, and souls do not eat. You are not hungry, you are mistaken in your assessment of your feelings." Our whole world moves as Crowley takes a big breath. The space here is larger than last time, it seems to change, always just a bit too big to be filled, no matter how much was here. The curse of the king.
"The curse?" He can never be satisfied, not with food of any kind. Except for his weird fourth stomach, the curse didn't cover that. He'll still be hungry for other things, but one stomach can be satisfied, if not full. Although I don't think I've ever seen him be 'sated' in any way, even there.
A voice rumbles around us as Crowley speaks.
"Get on with it Castiel. We have a deal."
"And if I decide I am not as honorable as you?" I can feel Crowley's glee as the snap resounds even through layers of skin and muscle. Beside us there is a gasp before the form moves, quickly starting to heal itself. Bobby sits up and looks around frantically. With my soul as light he can see the angel across from him. This...place for the first time. This interdimensional pocket of pain and hunger is a prison. Bars of cartilage surround us on all sides except the top.
"Cas? Whatr' you… no. You idjit… Why?"
"Apparently I am supposed to be healing Rebecca, and then sit back and be digested." Bobby blinks, ignoring the pain he must feel from merely existing in this place as he looks at Cas. He shakes his head then gazes around at the cell he probably could barely see before with the meager light from the stomach wounds. Red stretchy flesh covers the outside of the bars. It is thin, and separate from whatever is outside, because we can see the muscles move with each breath. The one side gets smaller and smaller, sloping up from the floor at near very steeply, couldn't be less than 80 degrees. It comes down quickly from the top at a near 50 degree angle, you could barely get two hands on top of each other where they meet. I believe all the other prisons lay beneath that stretch of bars going up at 80 degrees, that slight top bit what Cas saw Bobby through earlier. Red mist swirls around every inch of the nearly 4 foot cell, and liquid fills it at the bottom up to at least an inch. After a sigh Bobby fixes his gaze on me. I can hear the concern in his voice at my appearance, which I still have not seen.
"What's wrong with her?"
"I feel like we have more pressing matters Robert, like getting out of here."
"I tried. There is no out here. And trust me, you don't wanna try." Cas's confused expression matches the emotions I feel and he is about to ask why when the world moves once more. Crowley is laughing. Cooler air floods the area as slits filled with light suddenly give direction to the world. Crowley once again is mutilating his own body to provide air to his prisoner. Cas immediately reaches through the bars to rip at the flesh, pulling down and rending it painfully. The world shifts again as Crowley moves, putting the sky into view. It is filled with the amount of stars you only see in sparsely populated areas shining through the tears in flesh as he lies down on his back. The beings that still have flesh fall against the bars at the back in a tangle of limbs and acid as Crowley just breathes slowly and contentedly.
"You're going to have to try a bit harder than that featherless boy."
"I really wouldn't...featherless?" At Bobby's comment Cas pauses his attempt to right himself and sorrow fills his face as he slowly looks to the wing, torn and broken, lying in the prison with them. I can feel the pleasure ripple through Crowley at their dismay. The slight shifting movement followed by chewing sounds that indicate his actions with the remaining wing. A few feathers coated in spit fall as the prison compresses at the top with each swallow. Bobby looks at Cas, both men filled with unhappy emotions; loss and pity and sorrow permeate existence. Crowley sighs once again, the prison filling with red mist as their emotions cause his violent sin to manifest more for him to enjoy, digest, eat.
"I am so sorry Cas, I-"
"Later Bobby. We don't have time."
"You're wrong, we could have a goddamned long time, but-"
"Jack, Sam, and Dean, do not." Castiel reaches for the bars, holds one in each hand, and pulls. I watch in amusement as the bars bend painfully, but do not break.
"Cas, I wouldn't-" there is the slightest of cracks from the cartilage, not a break but the crack of movement, a painful precursor to something worse.
"I almost-" Cas's words are interrupted by a big breath and a slow, loud moan. The world vibrates with the sound, one that is decidedly not unhappy. A very slight repetitive motion can be felt as one of Crowley's arms starts to move. Both men are silent as I mentally cackle. Cas looks at me, feeling my amusement at Crowley's very simple plan to make them both too uncomfortable to attempt escape. "Is he…?"
Perhaps he is, perhaps he isn't, it doesn't matter, just the fact that he could be is enough to make both men shudder. Crowley is keeping me in the dark as well, a wonderful mystery of uncomfortable situations and social awkwardness. If I don't know, I can't tell Cas.
"What do you think?..." Bobby pauses at Cas's expression of confusion at Crowley's actions. "You never rubbed-"
"No."
"Not even when you were huma-"
"Boys, boys. Why'd you stop your escape attempts? They were just starting to feel interesting." Cas looks at his hands on the two bars and begins to pull again much to Bobby's surprise. The motion outside increases in speed.
"Cas, unless you're firing up your angel mojo, he ain't gonna feel that as pain."
"Pain and pleasure are secondary concerns when it comes to escape."
"Well, yeah, but-"
There is a snap and though nothing seemingly happens Crowley mentally lets me know that he just opened all the doors.
"Cas, I can heal any wound you make from in there as fast or as slow as I want. So, if you insist on continuing, I will call up some friends for a good time. And after we are covered in all sorts of fluids your new accommodations will become very crowded. If you don't mind sloppy seconds I could even send one down alive." Bobby's disgust makes itself known as the red mist grows with Crowley's thoughts of the sin and torture. I feel them, they feel good. The red mist, acidic and burning the other two, feels like home to me. Bobby starts and Cas stares at me.
"What is happening to her? Why is she putting out black smoke?"
"She is turning into a demon. She has been beside him for centuries, tortured for centuries. Forced to participate in or watch horror after horror, for centuries. Each new sin she sees now pushes her towards becoming a creature of hell. Humans turn into demons because it is the only way to survive such an experience, and that is what humans do, survive."
Yup. Like people who survived reaver attacks in Firefly. Crowley chuckles at the thought and Cas stares, remembering knowledge imparted to him by Metatron.
Bobby is starting to sweat with the effort of ignoring the pain, the acid around his legs and the mist everywhere else eating at every bit of him it touches. Cas is near unconsciously healing himself and is not reacting, except to frown sadly at Bobby's pain.
"Then why not let her? Sounds like she'd be better off. You could kill her then."
No! No. I don't want to be asleep there for eternity! I think… maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
"It's cute, isn't it, that she thinks I would let her escape to the Empty." Cas blinks at Crowley's comment. He looks at my floating form briefly then he grabs me and just listens. I exude thoughts for a moment before he starts pulling information out of me, digging for specific things or memories. I happily watch him damn himself with knowledge. It's not like I can prevent it, a professional interrogator has nothing on Castiel. He holds me and Bobby watches Cas's expressions change drastically, well as drastically as Cas's expressions ever change. Cas looks up after a minute or two, as if he could see Crowley's face by looking hard enough.
"That is why you want me to heal her. Not just because you want your toy, or because you have plans for her...but because if she dies or becomes a demon, she wins."
"How in the hell is that winning?" Asks Bobby amidst the silence and complete cessation of movement from Crowley.
"Because, he put a lot of work into learning how to manipulate her and train her. Her death, or her complete change of personality as a demon, would render all that useless. She is completely fine with her or other's deaths right now. It is extraordinarily difficult to manipulate anyone when they care for nothing. She-" He pauses and listens as he pulls another piece of information from me, and goes silent.
He knows about the contracts and how they work but brushes it aside. It is of no use now, not unless he could get that information to Jack. That would require prayer, and in Hell, prayers don't get out. Even if we are in just a tiny piece brought to earth, prayers don't work in Hell, and they definitely wouldn't work in this prison. Probably.
The wing falls and hits Bobby and Cas on their heads as Crowley swallows and sits up. He's grown bored with waiting, I can tell.
"Cas, you know the deal. I won. Heal her or I'll put Jackie next to you."
"You can't touch the kid, he's far more powerful than you'll ever be you red bag of-"
"You're right Robert. He is far more powerful than me. He does however have two very fatal flaws. He's not very smart, and he is a very good person. Both make him very easy to manipulate."
It's true. That's why people like reading stories where the hero wins, because in all reasonable situations, they should not. At least they shouldn't and come out the same as they went in, pure and good. There is silence as both men contemplate the situation, silence which Crowley breaks.
"So, are you going to keep your deal, or am I going to have to play dirty?"
"You weren't before? Right princess."
"Oh, I am honoring our deal as any demon does, continue to irk me and I will roll you in the mud until you suffocate from the depravity you find in Hell's gutters. Then I will bring you back up to earth and show you how easily that depravity is brought with me. And Then, it will only get worse, because I haven't even begun to describe what I will do To you. So, Castiel, do I need to continue to describe all the things that you Know are running through my mind, things you are most likely being told by my pet in your hand?"
Castiel looks at me, he is indeed getting an idea of what I believe Crowley would do, will do, from me. I've been around him enough, written my own villains enough, been corrupted myself enough to know the future here. To make hundreds of correlations from the plans I know, what he's said, and what he Likes, to rain down a story of horror on the angel's mind. He remains unphased but looks at Bobby across from him in the dim light.
He is breathing slowly and heavily, hands against the cage, keeping as much of himself out of the acid as possible. It doesn't hurt too much, it is only stomach acid after all, but it stings. It slowly slowly eats away at skin, and cloth, and flesh, and bone. His skin is red, irritated and sensitive, nothing too much past that...yet. Above the surface of the caustic liquid the red mist licks at flesh, makes it hard to breathe, cruelly caresses them both. Death will be slow here, minimum of two days like before, possibly longer. Cas swallows and looks at me.
"I am sorry." He holds me tighter and pressure begins to fill me.
"Ah, leave some of her lovely black fringe please." Cas looks upward in annoyance but continues. The pressure builds again, encompassing everything around me and pushing in painfully. I can feel it pulling at me too, the complete opposite sensations make me swim in confusion. It comes at me hard and I feel myself crack as the energy permeates me. It feels bitter. I hate it.
I try to change how it feels, how I think of it, anything to get that earthy taste of arugula and okra out of my every facet. It all fails. I just wish I could take this energy and...change it. It digs deeper and deeper, covering and inching its way into every part of me. I have never felt anything like this, it doesn't hurt, it's just like pressure building from an airplane, or muscles so tense they are causing your ears to pop. I hate it. Loathe it. Despise it with every fiber of my being. I seethe and rage at it, ready to destroy whatever it takes to get rid of this ...and something snaps.
Perhaps it's me succeeding in changing how I feel about it. Perhaps it's Cas breaching some part of my soul. Either way, suddenly everything is sweet. I can almost actually taste it, it's so prevalent. I reach out hungrily towards it, pulling it so it comes faster. The taste of honeysuckle, and summer, and memories. The taste of friends and food and everything I haven't had in what feels like eons. The taste of solitude with one's thoughts. The taste of my own actions, good or bad, done under my own will. I want it. The ability to damn or save myself or others. The ability to Feel from experiences I initiate. The ability to parse my own memories without prying eyes. I need it. It feels like chocolate on a tongue I don't have. I pull at it. And suddenly it stops. I reach out and grab at the fleeing fleeting feelings and tastes as best as something with no body can and I hear a grunt.
"What? Is it not working?" I am broken out of myself by Bobby's voice, and the energy flies away out of my grasp.
"No...She… I can't really describe it except...She bit me."
"What? That, doesn' make sense." The whole prison shakes again as Crowley laughs. Castiel scowls.
"This is not a laughing matter, I was putting my power into her, my grace, and she started taking it."
"I believe that is what is supposed to happen when you put your energy into something, it either rejects it, or takes it ostrich." I can feel Crowley's amusement, I don't really care one way or another, I just want Cas to do whatever he was doing again. I ache for it like I've never ached for something before. Not sex. Not blood or violence. Not food or drink. Not even the ability to draw what's in my head. I could live without this, but I don't want to. I will do whatever Cas or Crowley want to get that feeling again. I think it as loudly as I can.
I am ignored. Crowley doesn't want me like this, and Cas has bigger things to worry about than my appetite.
"No Crowley, it wasn't healing her, she was eating it." As this I can feel his amusement die.
"What."
"That's not possible." Cas looks at Bobby and sighs.
"That seems to be a theme." Says Cas as he glares at me.
"So you can't heal her?" Cas takes a deep unneeded breath and swallows.
"I don't know."
"This may be part of it, continue."
"I don-"
"Was I unclear?"
"Listen, if-" Pain shatters everything. Crushing acidic burning pain. Through my own I can feel the other's agony as well, and it feels like a breath of fresh air. The pain stops immediately and Crowley curses. The light in the prison is dimmer, and from Cas's thoughts I can tell I am getting worse, darker.
"If I wanted opinions from my food I'd get candy hearts. Shut up and heal her." Cas swallows his fury and with a tight lip and a stern face tries again. I happily allow it, the sweetness, the relief, the memory of innocence permeates me and I take it. I pull on it and once again hear a grunt, but this time it doesn't stop. I greedily take more, grasping at the faint memory of what I was and-
"Cas stop." I near scream in frustration as the energy is taken once more, feeling on the cusp of something. Freedom, a change, orgasm! I don't know, but it's the brink of Something. I feel eyes on me, and seethe silently, wishing I had a body to do…. Anything with. They sit in silence regarding me like some animal at a zoo they have never seen before. And exotic 'new' soul. A Thing. Not a person. I feel no concern from anyone about me right now anymore, just fear and curiosity.
"If I had eyes in my stomach I wouldn't have to ask this, but why have you stopped? Again?"
"Let us out princess and you won't have to ask."
"And risk you escaping? No, I'll keep you nestled right there. This is the best prison I have for two of the six most escape prone beings I know. It's one of the reasons you're there, and trust me, you don't want to know the others. So…" The world tilts again as Crowley stands, causing a tangle of limbs and acid once again. I am thrown against walls and skin and cloth and bone as he stretches. "This isn't just for pleasure or torture, this is so I can keep an eye on you for the rest of your lives."
"Yeah, the entire remaining hours." Crowley ignores the comment from Robert and starts some project that he is now Not letting me see.
"So. What… is happening?" The two cell mates sit in silence for a second then Robert picks me up. I lash out, angry at him for interrupting my experience. He drops me immediately and shakes his hands then looks at Cas. Cas picks me up once more, but holds me in his lap, on the trench coat.
"She's got some of your smoke Crowley."
"Pardon?"
"She's turnin a redish black you idjit." I'm what? The movement stops as Crowley freezes.
"She's what? That isn't possible."
"Crowley, what you've done to her, isn't exactly normal. You've kept a soul in your smoke or body consistently for 500 years and tortured it. Whatever comes of that... I doubt it's going to be a normal demon." Well, it makes sense after what happened to all those little soul bits, turning red, turning into him.
Crowley curses. Then curses again. Then strings together curses in what I can only assume is archaic Scottish Gaelic. He is pissed. He paces a moment, the clicking of his healed three pronged feet on the stone audible even here.
"Can you fix her?"
"If she continues to devour the energy I put in, no." Crowley grumbles and curses again at Cas's comment. I, we, can feel his pacing increase in speed.
"Chew toy. Stop eating the angel." You first. I'm hungry and he tastes like apricots.
More curses fill the air.
"I...taste like apricots?" Dried apricots are amazing Cas. If you give me more, maybe it'll change. C'mon Cas, what's the worst that could happen? "You become more of a danger than Crowley." Right, because that's possible. "He has control and rules, we have no idea what you would be." Cas, c'mon. Just a bit more? Or hand me to Bobby so it's less of a temptation while we wait at least. "Your hunger does not affect me in the lea-" I reach out with all my might and try to draw the energy I want from him. I'm rewarded with a grunt, and a mild chuckle from Crowley. As unhappy as he is with me, proving the angel wrong always pleases him. Cas scowls and tosses me to Bobby while Crowley paces and thinks. Bobby catches me tentatively but holds on when I don't 'bite' again. I have other plans. I want to see if I can slowly pull energy from him. It's faint, but it's there, and I'm so hungry for more of what Cas gave me I'll try anything. I start immediately.
Nobody knows what to do, well I do, but it's not exactly what everyone else wants. I pull at the energy Bobby is exuding and it feels like a meager start, something I want but can barely taste. I siphon all the latent energy far too quickly. I'm not surprised he doesn't have much considering what he's dealing with but I'm still disappointed. I slowly, so very slowly reach farther. I can see the light dim in the prison as I push energy into Bobby through his hands; my hungry hooks made of light. I can feel him, he burns brightly despite his monstrous transformation, despite the torture, despite his situation. He burns brightly and it makes me want it. I hook myself into the light I feel and pull so slowly. Painfully slowly. I have less patience than Crowley but if I don't exert it now I will be found out. Crowley is distracted, pondering my fate; if I can get deep enough, just a taste, a bite, one just one please.
I feel it pull into me, one more tug and it flows like a small rivulet. Like tasting water after a long long run. I relax and think of nothing, trying to make sure Bobby doesn't notice my plan. If he can take a moment to listen to me through his pain I could be betrayed by a stray thought of pleasure on my part. I sit in silence, just letting my work produce results.
"So, what would you suggest?" Crowley's voice rumbles throughout the world and his question hangs as I happily drink away.
"I dunno Crowley, I'd jest let her go demon. You turned me inta a fucking wolf."
"She may not be as useful to Crowley as a demon Bobby."
"Well you don't know till you know Cas. I, phew, it's gettin hard to breathe. I need air." I can feel Crowley roll his eyes but a single razor sharp nail slides into view and lengthens the cut. I doubt that was what was causing his trouble. We can suddenly see that Crowley has not just been pacing. The bodies from before have been collected. None are inhabitable any more, they are useless to other demons as vessels. Crowley has been carefully cutting them out of their clothing with his long nails and setting the rags to the side. I know what he's doing, we all know what he's doing. He goes for the head with the apple first; slicing it off easily with a single finger he picks it up and it vanishes from sight. The apple falls into the prison seconds later. Whole except for a single tooth stuck in it.
"Brain food Robert. I need you to come up with ideas. Unless you'd prefer the actual brain?"
"I'm good Crowley. But thank you So much for your hospitality." Crowley laughs at the venom laced sarcasm.
"Pardon me. I think I know what you'd prefer." We see the long arms and claws go to work on one of the bodies again, craving away at the torso.
"No."
"Why Robert, I wouldn't be so cruel as to let you pass without knowing this joy." The claws return to view red and dripping, holding a human heart.
"No."
"Crowley, don't-"
Crowley doesn't respond to his prisoners' pleas, he just brings the heart up to his stomach within view of the newly turned werewolf.
"Doesn't it smell nice Robert?" All eyes, or lack thereof, are on the red bloody piece of meat in the red bloody clawed hand. I can feel Rogert's breathing quicken, coming in gulps as he fights instincts he didn't have until a few days ago. Fights the smell. Fights temptation. He reaches out, swallows, and turns away, not realizing he is still reaching out weakly.
"C'mon Robert, I know you want-"
"Stop it. Crowley, there is no point to this."
"Of course not Cas, that's why it's fun. I mean, there are a few reasons, but you don't want to hear them."
Robert meanwhile is looking away, grim faced and determined, I can feel his struggle and it is euphoric. It'll be even better when he fails. The energy I'm slowly sapping from him will run dry soon, he's tired, that heart will provide him some. I silently urge him to take it. Just a taste, like me, it can't hurt. Take the apple from the snake Robert.
My urging works apparently because he curses and glances at the bleeding organ.
"Balls." He looks at the heart and then at Cas, and then at the heart. His eyes flash and his teeth sharpen. "Balls. Fuck…BALLS! Fuckin Gimme That!"
He reaches out through the bars and Crowley happily offers the weeping heart to his prisoner.
"Bobby, you-" There is a snap and Cas freezes again for a brief moment. As usual, a moment is all it takes. A moment that lasts forever as Robert takes that first bite.
It's sweet, for him and me. His energy has run out. That first bite of his is in tandem with my first taste of his soul.
And Robert screams.
The scream resonates and both Crowley and Cas are startled. Free from his telepathic prison Cas reaches out for Robert and shakes him. The attempt at gaining attention does nothing as Robert drops the heart and claws at the other hand that holds me. His frantic attempts draw lines of blood that slowly heal in his fervor. Cas quickly understands that I am somehow the cause of this and goes to pull me away. He grabs onto me and attempts to wrench me off, but I'm rather entrenched.
"Release him!" I laugh and send out hooks of now much greyer light into Cas, hoping to be rewarded with that sweet memory feeling from earlier. I get it, briefly, and I drink it in greedily for a moment before he smartly pulls away. I laugh again and continue my leeching of Robert, happy to glut myself on that. I felt so empty, he's giving me some semblance of company, of fullness. I know it will be temporary, because he might die if I do this, but perhaps he-
There is a snap and I'm suddenly outside, held in a red hand, a familiar screen famous face glaring at me with red eyes.
"What, are you doing?" Crowley's voice is hard and sharp, filled with furious contempt. He knows exactly what I'm doing. He knows exactly what I'm Feeling. I was born in him, his smoke a womb. I am like him. "That remains to be seen. Either way. He. Is. Mine." Aww did the hyena steal some of the lion's meal from under its nose? He squeezes and pain and red smoke leak out of me, mixing with the black and whites that reveal my soul as a tainted facsimile of my previous self. It barely hurts anymore and I sit in his hand, inert. I know he can do better than that. Of course he can, but it's not enough to turn me into a demon soon enough to change me back. He pauses and a smile crosses his face.
"You're hungry. Fine. Eat." I pause at the comment, the complete 180. I can feel his glee, sudden and intense, and it concerns me. What plot does he have now? He looks at his other hand holding the head and with a slight smile stuffs my soul into its mouth. "Strap in tight now, I've never been a smooth ride."
The entire head is popped into the second mouth and chewed. Crunched into bits. Bone, meat, hair, brain, me. All masticated by razor sharp teeth. It doesn't hurt me much, not anymore, but it infuriates me. It's insulting. It shows me what I could be doing, should be doing. I'm so hungry, it's not fair. It's maddening to be surrounded by food and unable to eat, even if this food didn't exactly look appetizing. Actually it looks really gross. Still, if possible I'm more hungry by the time he finally swallows.
I fall back down and both Cas and Robert back away from the mess of light and meat. Robert is panting and looking concerned, while Cas is of course blank faced.
"Heal her Cas." Cas looks at the prison angrily.
"I can't. She just eats whatever I give, it's bringing her close to becoming a demon, not farther."
"It's no big loss to me if you lose your grace. I've already had grace before, too saccharine for me. I'll make do with your soul."
"And what about wanting some of her to be demon still?" There is a pause. Crowley snaps and the air shifts. Robert's mouth is gagged and suddenly he looks around frantically, as if surprised and concerned. Cas is nowhere to be seen, but I can hear a crunching sound outside that tells me Crowley is leaning on him with all his weight.
"You're right. But I know her buttons. Chew Toy. Have some wolf." There is a snap and I'm in Robert's hand suddenly. I'm cautious, he tries to fling me off but I appear to be stuck. I am concerned with other things anyway. Crowley had been furious moments ago about me eating him, and now I was being told to? No. I think I can see his plan. I...I don't think I want to eat my old friend, if only because Crowley wants me to, which can't be good.
"Chew Toy. I know what you're feeling. It will get worse either way. One is just painful." I know he's right. I'm so hungry, I feel so empty. The more I eat the closer I get to feeling full but it always stretches farther away. The more I eat the more I need to eat, the hungrier I get. The less I eat...the more it seems to ache. ...Have I inherited his curse?
There is a scream and I am startled out of my self reflection. I had seeped my way into Robert without even noticing, taken a bite. I wrench away but the taste of fresh water and relief is there...and… and... I can't let it go.
I pull with all my might and Robert screams again. I hesitate for a brief moment, the scream sounds odd. Perhaps a memory of this being wrong, I think I- Crowley pushes me forward and suddenly the scream is music to my ears. I pull harder; enjoying the feel of fresh energy, the promise of feeling full.
The energy feels slightly different and I try to examine it for a moment but the act of feeling and pulling is too all encompassing for me to focus on anything else for long. I pull, for what seems ages, the energy flowing. I feel gorged and bloated at some points but always somehow still empty, alone. The moment I almost feel full, more space appears and the need increases. I hate it. It's so akin to drawing a hand over and over and over; not knowing why it looks wrong, knowing you need help but not knowing what to ask for. Crowley knows the answers though. I don't want Crowley to have the answers. I just want to eat, it feels so good. I want to eat, and draw, and fuck, and eat and... No... I don't. I want this to be over, this hunger, I want to die, or… or eat. So good. I want… No. I ...
The energy stops suddenly and there is silence. The screams are gone. Robert is dead. Truly dead. And I had killed him. And it was… amazing.
"It is, isn't it?" That...that's what destroying a soul feels like? "No. It feels better. Your sloppy meal doesn't compare with what I do. Of course, it's fun on occasion to get messy." There is the sound of struggling as Crowley stands and moves about. A jolt of pain rips through him and the movement stops as a grunt and then a yell permeates the cell.
"Well, if you're so eager to stick something in, it can go down first." He leans back quickly and above is a snap then sucking sound. It stops as Crowley swallows, and moments later beside me lands an arm; the bloody shredded tan sleeve adorning it is very familiar. In its hand is a broken tooth, razor sharp and snapped in half. A body slams beside me seconds later and as Cas looks at the unmoving form of Robert holding me in his hand we are plunged into darkness. The stomach wounds are healing; fresh air no longer needed for just an angel and a soul.
"Bobby. Bobby?"
"He's gone Cas. Now it's-"
"What, did you do?"
"I fed him to my pet. Now it's your turn. Give the puppy a treat now." Cas fumes and looks around angrily.
"I'm all out of treats."
"Cas Cas Cas. You, are the treat." He snaps again and I'm in Castiel's hand. I can't resist and immediately begin to pull energy out. It's harder this time, but I get the slightest bit before he starts to fight back. It feels like before, like sweet memories. I pull and pull, fighting the angel and losing. If this kills me, so be it.
Then everything turns sour as pain courses through us both. Castiel's screams mirror my own but with his distraction I can pull more energy out. I do. It is as sweet as before. It feels good, and warm, and pure like only memories can be.
And something snaps.
And it isn't Crowley.
