What Isn't And Came To Be
Chapter 10: Like A House On Fire
"Daddy's home!" With a jolt Michele startled at hearing Crowley's announcement from downstairs. Where ever he had taken Kelly and Mary's bodies and what ever he'd been doing for the past half hour, he had returned.
Eager as she was to get back to Johnny and go home, she wished he had given her a few more minutes.
Hastily, she stuffed the piece of paper she'd written the cottage's wardings on inside a bag of nappies, joining the diary, tablet and charger she had found in Kelly's room earlier.
Crowley's footsteps traversed the stairs jauntily as she picked up a soft toy and hugged it to her chest.
Moments later the door swung open.
The demon scowled at her from the doorway. "What on earth are you wearing?"
"Uhm, Clothes?" She answered, grip tightening on the teddy bear.
"Yes, yes I can see that." He growled, with an acerbic bite to his voice.
"I was cold, and figured… Kelly wouldn't mind."
Michele licked at her lips nervously, Crowley sounded angry, and she wasn't sure what he thought she'd done wrong. But what ever it was, it would pay to mollify him quickly.
"You look, ridiculous."
She looked down at herself, confused. Why did he care about how she looked?
Okay. Yes, Kelly Kline had been pregnant, taller and built differently and the shoes were 2 sizes too big. But surely, she had looked worse traipsing around barefoot in his spare shirt.
"Like a bag lady." He added, tone practically dripping with scorn. She was wearing more layers than the temperature called for and admittedly had gone a bit overboard. But each layer she'd put on had made her feel safer.
"I just didn't think it was all that politic to turn up, back home, to my husband, wearing nothing but your shirt." She forced an ingratiating smile and tried to explain, without admitting how much she hated being half naked in his presence.
Was his pique really caused by what she was wearing, or did he know about the warding diagrams somehow?
Her heart hammered as she forced herself not to look in the direction of the bag of nappies. She'd thought that adding the extra line through each drawing would render them powerless and undetectable. But if she was wrong… it would explain things.
"I – I mean, I've been gone for two days and suddenly I turn up with a strange guy and I've got some random baby to look after…" Crowley tilted his head, eyes narrowed and she stumbled to a stop.
She'd said the wrong thing again, she could tell.
"What?" She asked helplessly, squeezing the bear tighter.
"I'm trying to work out if you're dim or just hard of hearing." The line between his brows deepened. "I thought I'd made myself clear. You aren't going back, to your husband or that house.
As far as Phillip Chadwick is concerned, you are dead! And your home, such as it was; it's now a burned out shell."
"What? No!"
"What? No!" he mimicked her mockingly. "How did you think I was cleaning up your mess, Pet?"
"You, you burnt down my house. B-but…" She felt sick, had he really torched her entire life, why was he doing this to her?
"B-b-but." He mimicked again with a sneer. "Count yourself lucky I didn't eat your tailor."
Was that a joke or a threat, what the actual heck?
Oh God, was everyone else okay? Had they managed to save anything?… poor Phil, he must be beside himself... This was all her fault!
"Do stop being so overly dramatic, Darling.
Surely you didn't want your family to go through the trauma of having to keep living in that house, where you and the boy were brutally murdered. I did them a favour."
She opened her mouth, but Crowley just steamrollered on.
"Besides, between the various life insurance policies and the house insurance, your erstwhile husband is now an extremely wealthy man. You ought to be happy for them."
"Happy? But, but, I'm not dead! Neither is Johnny!"
"Yes well, I imagine if that little fact came to light, the authorities might take a dim view, to say the least. What with the two dead bodies and the defrauding of insurance companies for excessive amounts of money.
Those are criminal activities, aren't they, Pet?"
"But… we didn't. No one would think...Besides, you can't just toss a couple of corpses stolen from some morgue into a burning building and have the coroner decide that they're me and Johnny. That's not how it works! There's dental records, DNA..."
Crowley smiled at her then, almost pityingly.
"What… did… you… do?"
"Pop quiz, Love. Carver Edlund's book, 'Caged heart,' what kind of monster did Hell's most dashing demon have a whole nursery full of?"
She blinked at him, before the penny dropped. "Shifter's." She said slowly. "But… how…"
"A few photos, a bit of blood, a lock of hair, a baby tooth…"
"…you told the alpha you were going to kill them."
"I lied, I do that, Demon, remember. Besides I doubt the alpha shifter cared much about their fate, once I chopped off his head.
I have quite the menagerie of beasties nowadays." Crowley looked smug, like she ought to be impressed.
"So, Jack and I. We are just beasties, to add to your menagerie?"
"Hardly." He stepped closer, his brow smoothing as all the previous anger just melted away, like it had never been, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. There was an almost reverent gentleness to the gesture.
"You're the only one I have left now," he murmured holding her gaze. "The only one who has ever believed I could change, or be anything other than a monster. Even knowing, all the messy things I've done." He closed his eyes wearily and sighed, "I need you, the child needs you, Ma Cherie."
He looked so very earnest standing there, before her with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and she remembered the way he had wrapped his arms around her and clung to her, while he cried; after he returned from the apocalypse world, alone.
How did he do it? she wondered dimly. He had just told her that he killed two shapeshifters and burned down her house. Subtly threatened her with prison for murder and fraud; and here she was, with an urge to hug him, and try to comfort him.
"Please Crowley." She laid a hand on his coat sleeve, Jack's bear dangling, and looked up at him with welling eyes.
"I do believe you can change, but can't you see, part of changing would be to let me go home. To break the contract on Johnny's soul and let us go home. Please?! Phil needs me too."
Crowley's face hardened stormily. "So you're a liar then? When you said you didn't want to leave, you were just telling me what I wanted to hear?!"
"Why does helping you mean I have to leave them? They're my family, Crowley. How can you expect me to just abandon them and not look back. And… I didn't exactly mean it like that, you're twisting things!"
"How exactly did you mean it, then?"
"What I said, I meant that you've won, that I can't fight you, not when you're holding Johnny's soul hostage, he's my son! Check mate. I get it, okay! You're in charge." Again she reached out. "But you don't have to coerce or force me. I want to help yoube more than a monster. I want to help Jackand make sure he doesn't turn out like Lucifer, but... Why can't I do both… my family needs me, and I need them..."
"ENOUGH!" He bellowed, eyes flashing a furious red.
She stumbled back, away from him, dropping the bear.
In the cot, Jack startled awake at the shout and began to cry. Nervously, she swept him up into her arms. Started to rock and make small hushing sounds, desperate to quiet him, wary that the crying would make Crowley angrier.
"You were perfectly willing to abandon your family when you trapped me in that devils trap, so the bloody Man of Letters could kill you!" Crowley pointed out cooly, his tone more modulated, as he eyed Jack in her arms. "How exactly is this different? Damn it woman! I let you keep your favourite. The rest of them are safe. Set for life! And still none of it is good enough for you, you're still fighting me."
"No, I'm not fighting. I don't want to fight you. I'm begging you. Please Crowley." She whispered brokenly, feeling tears prick her eyes and well to trickle helplessly down her cheeks. "Please, I just want to go home!"
Letting out another long breath, the demon king turned his back on her and bent to pick up the bags she'd packed for Jack, treading on the teddy bear as he did so.
Crowley didn't say a word, but he didn't have to, every line of his stance told her, his answer was, 'no.'