Author Note: This episode is told entirely from Crowley's POV
The days grow shorter and the nights are getting long
Feels like we're running out of time
Every day it seems much harder tellin' right from wrong
You got to read between the lines
Don't get discouraged, don't be afraid, we can
Make it through another day
Make it worth the price we pay
Fight the good fight every moment
Every minute every day
Fight the good fight every moment
It's your only way
THE DEVIL YOU KNOW
Prologue
I'd been following Nancy Drew and the Hardy boys for the last day and a half, just biding my time and waiting for the right moment. I knew what they were after, and what it was going to take for them to achieve their goals.
But let's be real here, they weren't going to just trust me with this information.
I'm a demon for Lucifer's sake…
Just don't say that name too loudly - I don't want him around either.
No, they were going to have to be led into this like a pig to the slaughter. Except I wasn't planning a slaughter this time.
Well, not of the Winchesters.
Lucifer on the other hand…
But I digress.
Life is complicated when you're trying to overthrow the King of Hell and take the mantle for yourself. The path to the throne isn't the yellow brick road to Oz, it's twisted and dark, and you occasionally hit a few dead ends, or traps. A maze of blood and horror, sucking the life out of every soul that walked it; it sucked you in, chewed you up, spat you out, and then shat on you just because it could.
David Bowie had it half right.
I loved every moment of it.
My name is Crowley, and you my friends are about to discover how this simple, underestimated, crossroads demon is about to save the freaking world.
(I honestly never saw that coming… truth)
Hospital
When you look at Dean Winchester you see one of two things if you're a human.
If you're a woman - or gay - you see a hulking chunk of loving that you want to shove into bed and fuck six ways to Sunday. If you're any other man, you see a dick: either in personality or as a sexual god - sometimes both. And either one of those dicks makes said man feel threatened. It's his dick that makes Dean confident - in all plays of life - women, men, hunting. He is man through and through and no one misses that when they run into him.
His wife Beth is one of those souls that's beautiful inside and out. When God made her mother, he threw away the mould on that one - Grace had been a tall, dark haired vision: a drink of smooth scotch with sapphire blue eyes that haunted your soul. Beth got the dark locks, but inherited her father's deep chocolate eyes. She may not be perfect, but that heart of hers makes up for it, and that idiot husband of hers knows it - even if he doesn't always appreciate it. I'd question what she sees in him, but … I already answered that question above. (Beth falls into category 1.)
Then there's Moose. Little Sammy Winchester. Little because he's younger than the other pair, but certainly not smaller in height. I haven't got a clue where he got his height from, but I'm telling you right now it isn't John Winchester. And what was with the hair? I can't quite make out if he wears it that way to attract the ladies who don't automatically fall all over his brother, or the men? Maybe he actually likes it? His weapon of choice: those puppy dog eyes - works every time on the women, and a lot of the time it works on the men too.
Right now, Dean's charm seemed to be lost on the female doctor who was showing them through the hospital. The three stooges were dressed in their regular FBI style suits, and they'd been handed some face masks to wear to keep them from catching whatever nasties were flying around in the hospital.
"Check it out…" Dean said, grinning at his brother under the mask. "I look like the king of pop…"
Sam sighed at him, his eyes showing the distaste in the joke, so Dean turned to Beth and grinned, a smile that caused his eyes to wrinkle with humour.
"Too soon?" He chuckled.
Beth smiled back at him, genuine, warm, and then nodded. "Too soon."
The doctor gazed curiously at the trio and then led them further into a waiting room of patients.
"Don't get me wrong -I'm glad the CDC is here, but what we really need is vaccine," she said.
"You got that right," Dean agreed, his eyes taking in the room. I ducked my head down, pulling the brim of my hat down to cover my eyes. They were imbeciles, expecting nothing more than a room of sick people - I was perfectly fine from detection, but I hadn't gotten to where I was on the Hell Totem Pole without knowing when and how not to be seen.
"Well, tell me, have you noticed anything unusual about the strain?" Sam asked. "Any signs of behavioral change, like aggression, maybe?"
"Excuse me?" The doctor asked, looking confused.
"Have the flu victims shown any signs of, uh, homicidal tendencies?" Dean clarified. I rolled my eyes at the question. How did these chuckleheads function on a day to day basis? It was so much easier to get answers out of torturing someone. Watching this was torture, and it was making me want to give them the answers.
The doctor chuckled uncomfortably at the group. "Uh...Symptomatically speaking, we're looking at a relatively mild case of swine flu here. Probably add up to a miserable week off of work, and that's about it."
"So you've noticed nothing unusual?" Beth asked.
"Hmm. Day and a half ago, we didn't have a single case."
A male doctor walked up to the doctor and handed her a clipboard which she paused to look down at and then signed the bottom of a form.
"Now we're looking at over 70…" she continued, "the infectious equivalent of a briefcase bomb. So, yeah, I might call that a little unusual," the doctor replied.
"Day and a half?" Sam asked.
"That's the same time those statues started crying…" Dean said quietly, but not low enough to get missed by either of the doctors who turned to look at the Winchesters curiously.
"Yep," Sam agreed.
"I'm sorry," the doctor said. "What was that?"
"What was what?" Dean questioned.
"Did you just say a bunch of statues started crying?" The woman stared at them in confusion.
Sam laughed, his face softening and his big puppy dog eyes luring the woman into a warm, trusting place. "What?" He smiled. "Why… no. No. Who-would."
"Who would say that?" Dean asked. "Huh?"
"Crazy people," Beth chimed in.
"Exactly," Sam agreed with a nod.
"Yeah, which we are not," Dean continued.
"No," Sam said, shaking his head.
Like I said. It was torture dear readers. These three musketeers were going to drive me insane before the night ended. I mentally made a note to add this routine to the new torture regime in Hell.
"Just…. Get us some vaccine," the doctor said after a pause, and then she turned on her heel, dismissing them with a flick of her long dark hair. I liked it. She had style.
Heading for the door the three left the building, hurrying down to the black beast of an Impala - which I secretly want to steal off Dean - and getting in. I stood watching from a distance. I couldn't follow them, not yet.
But I had something that could. A little insurance policy from months ago.
I just had to flip open my phone, open the app - technology is great these days, isn't it? - and then connect to the special receiving coin.
I mean technically speaking, I could have slit someone's throat, poured their blood into a goblet, and allowed that to speak to me. But truth was, it got a bit messy and I was wearing my favourite leather shoes today.
As soon as I opened up the app I hurried down the steps from the hospital and then across the road to the park before I zapped myself to my temporary accommodations.
I sat, patiently listening in for hours. It wasn't until almost midnight that the phone started chiming as if to tell me that people were back in the Impala, and there was a conversation to listen to.
Like I said - technology is grand.
"Let me guess - another steamin'-hot pile of swine flu," a deep, growly voice sounded from the speaker. I knew that to be their surrogate father Bobby Singer; the grumpy one with a heart of gold. Recently he'd gotten himself stuck in a wheelchair, that hadn't been my fault, though a demon was responsible for it. I couldn't take the credit, but I was going to use it to my advantage when the time was right.
"Yep," Dean confirmed.
"Doesn't make any sense, Bobby. Pestilence touched down here. I'm sure of it," Sam said.
"But why is he dealing them soft serve like swine flu when he's got the Croatoan virus up his sleeve? I-I-I don't get it," Dean added. I wasn't surprised he didn't get it - Pestilence, like us all, had plans. Sometimes those plans needed a little bit of cultivation first before the big reveal. These minor subtleties were something Dean didn't appreciate.
"Doesn't matter what the sick son of a bitch is doing," Bobby said. "What matters is this is the fourth town he's hit - that we know of - and we're still eating his dust. Did you get anything? We got even a snowball at a probable next target?"
"No," Beth's voice entered the mix. "There's no pattern that we can see Bobby."
Bobby sighed. I rolled my eyes.
"Okay," he said with a tired tone. "Well, far as I can tell, he's still heading East, So...head East, I guess."
"East?" Dean and Sam said in unison.
"Bobby, we're in West Nevada. East is practically all there is," Dean added.
"Yeah, well…. you better get to drivin'." Bobby said.
I'd heard enough. If I had to listen to much more of these idiots roaming around the countryside taking swings and misses at one of the most powerful beings on the planet, I was going to pull out my own eyeballs and feed them to my Hellhound.
I closed my eyes, and tuned into the energy of the hidden coin.
With a deep breath in… zap!
I was in the back seat of the Impala, sitting next to Beth.
"Say… I've got an idea," I said as Beth shrieked and Dean swerved us to a screeching halt.
From the front, Sam threw himself toward me with that bloody knife, and I blinked, dematerialising instantly as the knife stabbed the back seat of the car instead.
"Did you get him?" Dean asked, looking in the mirror at Beth. "Are you okay?"
"He's gone," she reported. Dean let out a shaky breath.
Clearly I'd rattled the squirrel. This was a good thing. Mind you, he wasn't going to like what Sam had just done to his upholstery.
I stepped up to Sam's window and knocked on it. "Fancy a fag and a chat?" I said, leaning down to peer in to the car through rain spattered windows. It was drizzling, kind of miserable really, and made me positively ache for the heat of the Pit below.
All of them scurried to exit the Impala, scowling at me as we stood in the middle of the road, a tall streetlight and the car's headlights the only lighting in the eerie mist covering the forested surrounds.
"You're upset," I stated the obvious, backing away as Sam furiously advanced on me. I had a moment to wonder if I'd done the right thing - approached this the right way. But I was here. And really... "We should discuss it," I continued as Sam scowled. "Not here, but…"
"You want to talk? After what you did to us?" Sam said, stalking after me.
"After what I… what I did to you?!" I spluttered, looking at Beth. "I gave you the Colt!"
"Yeah, and you knew it wouldn't work against the devil!" Sam accused.
"I never!" I protested.
"You set us up. We lost people on that suicide run - good people!" Sam said. He was furious.
"Who you take on the ride is your own business!" I countered. I mean, I had to talk my way out of this like usual, but a rabid Moose was something I hadn't banked on. I knew things had gone bad for them, but I must have missed the part where little Sammy got homicidal over it.
"Look, everything is still the same," I said, turning to Dean who seemed to be a little more reasonable. "W-we're all still in this together," I said.
"Sure we are," Sam said, and he attempted to stab me again, but I was quicker - I'm a freaking demon after all - and I teleported away from him, rematerialising behind Sam whose arm swung upwards into thin air. I looked at Beth, holding my hand out placatingly, and dropped my voice.
"Call your dog off - please," I said. That please really cut to the core, but at least it might work.
Dean reached out a grabbed Sam's arm, stilling the younger man. "Give me one good reason," he said.
"I can give you Pestilence," I replied, dangling the carrot for them.
"What do you know of Pestilence?" Beth asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes toward me.
"I know how to get him. That's got your interest, doesn't it?" I said. I saw it in her eyes, she glanced at Dean who frowned. They were intrigued. Sam didn't miss their expression, and he'd spent enough time around them to know I had their interest.
"Are you actually listening to this?" Sam spluttered.
"Sam…" Dean started.
"Are you friggin' nuts?!"
"Shut up for a second, Sam!" Dean retorted.
"Shut up, the both of you!" I shouted, and they both turned to glare at me. "Look," I said, holding my hands up. "I swear, I thought the Colt would work. It's an honest mistake. It's all part of the learning process. But nothing's changed. I still want the Devil dead."
That much was true.
I paused, reflected, and shrugged. "Well...one thing's changed. Now the Devil knows that I want him dead. Which, by the way, makes me the most buggered son in all of creation," I complained.
I mean really. Things were not easy for me right now. I'd been on the run for the last few months - couldn't go to any of my favourite hangouts, see any of the people I liked to torture.
"Holy crap," Dean countered. "We don't care."
I saw red.
"They burnt down my house!" I yelled, and Dean rolled his eyes at me. How dare he?!
"They ate my tailor!" (That one had smarted, he'd been very good at what he did).
"Two months under a rock, like a bloody salamander! Every demon on Hell and Earth's got his eyes out for me! And yet... here I am… last place I should be -In the road, talking to the Winchesters, under a friggin' spotlight!"
I pointed to the street light and then sent an energy pulse at it, feeling at least somewhat satisfied when it exploded in a spray of glass above us. I composed myself, lowering my voice.
"So come with me. Please."
They gave me nothing. Sam was fuming, clutching at the damn demon killing knife and clearly visualising it rammed through my skull. Dean and Beth were staring at me, contemplating. I liked them better - at least between the two of them they had a brain.
"Do you want the horsemen rings or not?" I said finally.
Dean and Beth exchanged another glance, lips tight, and I rolled my eyes.
"Yes, yes, I know all about that," I said. I had them, and they knew it. "Shall we?"
Abandoned House
I led them to the nearest safe house of which I knew - a farmhouse with a shed next to it.. It wasn't far. You'd be amazed at how many abandoned houses there are in America - hundreds of thousands. You would be even more surprised at what you'd find in them if you were unlucky enough to stumble into one at the wrong time.
I pushed open the door, taking in the room with a glance. Old, dusty, unused and unwelcoming. There was no power here, it hadn't been lived in for decades. Most people would be surprised the house was even standing, let alone housing … well, a demon.
I sighed.
"Here we are," I said, leading the trio into the house. "My life on the lam. How the mighty have fallen. Single-pane glass, used contraception in the fireplace…." I reached out a hand, conjuring up a flame to kindle a fire. It added a little cheer to the room, and warmth - a reminder of home. It also illuminated more of the damage around us, and I gestured to the roof and shrugged. "The water damage alone…."
"My heart's bleeding for you," Dean cut in. "Now, how do you know about the rings?" He looked impatient, tired. Between him and the girl, they might have had a good night's sleep once this week. Dean needed a bloody good shave - something I did not go without, even with all of Hell after me - and Moose, well he just needed a haircut like always. Beth's long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and it flipped around her head as she walked, it was cute, I could see why Dean liked it.
I narrowed my eyes at him and smirked. Would I come clean or not?
"Well, now," I started. "I've been keeping a close eye on you lot."
"No, that's impossible," Beth shook her head.
"We've got hex bags. We're hidden from demons," Sam said.
"All but one," I said, holding my index finger in the air and then pointing to myself.
"That night you broke into my house, our first date, my valet hid a tracking device in your car…" I guessed I was telling them after all. "A magical coin that easily trumps your little bags o' bones."
"It allows me to hear things, too…" I said, grinning at Dean, then Beth. "And, my, the things I've heard…" I chuckled.
Beth got it first. I saw her face go pale with the thought as she mentally worked through the timeline and then looked at Dean.
"What?" He asked.
"Uhhh…."
"Valentine's Day," I supplied the information to the befuddled fool. "It was late, you were… well… amorous."
"Oh my god…" Beth said, covering her face with a hand.
"That's what she said…" I pointed to Beth, grinning wildly at Dean who made the connection and then took an angry step toward me.
"Are you guys kidding me?" Sam said. "I offered you the motel room!"
Dean and Beth paused and looked at him.
"Uh, well, it was spur of the moment." Dean explained.
Beth groaned, a hand permanently covering half her face as she blushed furiously. I smiled, there was nothing funnier than outing people's deepest, most passionate encounters to the people around them.
"Am I gonna have to disinfect the back seat again?" Sam asked.
"Well, maybe not this time," I replied. "I don't think they got that far…"
"Oh I am gonna kill…." Dean took a step toward me, his fist raising in the air. What was he gonna do? Really? Punch a demon? I made a mental note to find out where that damn knife of Ruby's was, so I didn't end up skewered like she had.
"Easy tiger," I said, holding my hand up to Dean. "It's not like we don't all know what you and Nancy Drew here get up to every chance you get. I mean, one doesn't get in her condition without a little…." I waved my hand in the air, gesturing to her stomach area which wasn't showing a damn thing - but I knew anyway. "Sausage, after all. It probably happened that night … if you do the math," I finished.
"Okay, give me that knife," Beth snapped, holding her hand out Sam. "I'll kill him myself."
She was bluffing. Of course. They needed me, and I knew it.
"Okay, fun's over. You want to cram the devil back in the box? It's a cunning scheme." I said with an appreciative nod.
"I want in."
"You said you could get us Pestilence," Dean frowned.
I sucked in a breath, turning and walking back toward the fire.
"Well, now...I don't know where Pestilence is… per se…." I waved my hand dismissively in the air. "But I do know the demon who does. He's what you might call the horsemen's stable boy. He handles their itineraries, their personal needs. He's who you want -believe me. He'll tell us where Sneezy's at."
"Well, how do we get him to spill? Rip out his toenails?" Dean asked. Straight to the plan, I could appreciate that - even if the idea was moronic.
"No," I said. "Nuts at his pay grade don't crack. We bring him here, then I sell him."
"Sell him?" Sam asked skeptically.
He looked like he didn't believe me. Didn't they know who they were talking to?! I cleared my throat and straightened up, shoulders back, and rolled my eyes.
"Please," I scoffed. "I've sold sin to saints for centuries. Think I can't close one little demon?" I was confident and it showed in my face, the way I squared my shoulders, the set of my stance.
They all shared a look, contemplating. They wanted to argue, but they knew I could do it. How could I not? We wouldn't have been here if they didn't believe.
"All right," Dean said finally. "So where's this demon of yours?"
This family was more annoying than the episode where Lucy Ricardo went to Scotland. What a disaster that one had been. Did they even know? Did these guys know how irritating the mere sound of their voices were when they were doing anything other than agreeing with me?
"Why are we even listening to him, Dean?" Sam's whiny voice was on par with Fran Drescher, it grated every...single...nerve in my body.
"This is totally insane," he complained.
"I don't disagree," Dean said with a shrug. At least he and Bambi were on side with me for this one. I was counting on at least one of the two sticking by me with what was about to be announced.
"One big happy family, are we, then?" I asked, looking from the happy couple to their brother. "Fantastic."
"You ready to go?" Dean asked, looking at me.
"Yes," I nodded. "Yes, I am. Sam, keep the home fires burning."
I counted to three…
Beside me, Beth stiffened, and Dean's head shot up from where he'd been loading his pistol.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.
Sam turned to face me, and if looks could kill - well, let't just say that the boy had a scowl that matched the opposite of his puppy dog looks.
"Sam's not coming," I spelled out for them.
"And why the hell not?" Sam asked.
"Because I don't like you," I said, then added, "I don't trust you…. And…. oh, yes - you keep trying to kill me!"
"There's no damn way," Sam said, glaring at me. "This isn't gonna happen!"
"I'm not asking you, am I?" I pointed out, crossing my arms. "'Cause you're not invited. I'm asking you…" I moved my hand to point at Dean, "what's it gonna be?"
Dean's jaw twitched, and his eyes flicked toward Beth. He was thinking about it, but I was going to need her to push it over.
"What do you say, Bambi?" I asked, turning to look at the girl.
"Bambi?" Beth asked, frowning at me.
"It's a term of endearment," I said, shaking my head. "So what's it gonna be?"
They were all staring at me. I was getting sick of the resistance - I was trying to help them, wasn't I? I had my reasons Moose couldn't come along. I raised my hands up by my side, waiting - somewhat impatiently - for their answer.
"Well?"
Nothing.
Dean and Beth exchanged a look, and then Dean shook his head slightly.
I scoffed. "Okay," I said, turning toward the door. "Enjoy your last few sunsets."
I was making a show of it. I mean, I could have just vanished in front of them after all. But I needed them to side with me… which meant engaging the drama. I'd practically invented reality TV, I could do drama.
"Wait!" Beth said as I took a step toward the door. I smiled internally. Worked like a charm. "I'm coming."
"Beth…" Dean said cautiously, holding out a hand toward her.
She shrugged, looking at Sam who practically exploded with anger.
"Well he's not wrong, Sam. You got a lot of anger right now," she said.
"What?" Sam asked. "And you don't?"
"No," Dean said, shaking his head. "She doesn't… not like you."
"He got Jo killed!"
"No," Beth said sadly. "We did…we made the choice to run at the Devil not knowing if the Colt was gonna work or not."
Dean looked back and forward from Sam and Beth, but he was wavering. I held my breath. Dean looked me in the eyes, staring for a long minute, and then he saw whatever he needed, and sighed.
"Okay, we're in. What can I say? I believe the guy," he said as he guided Beth toward me.
Finally we were getting somewhere. I nodded and led the way out to the car. We were going to have a drive ahead of us. I took the back, giving the couple all the space they needed to discuss their brother on the way there.
Niveus Pharmaceutical
2 hours later
Dean and Beth weren't too bad to hang out with when you got them alone. They had this way of bantering between each other that was different to how they interacted with anyone else.
They were nestled next to each other in the front seat right now, Beth peering over Dean's shoulder as he looked through binoculars at the interior of the building's lobby. We could see two security guards, one at the desk, the other walking around. They both looked bored with the late hour and lack of excitement.
I was about to change that.
"Demons?" Dean asked, dropping the binoculars into his lap and looking in the rearview mirror at me.
"Nah," I said, "Human shields. The demons are up top… twelfth floor."
"Stairs or lift?" Beth asked, looking at Dean. They both raised their eyebrows at each other and Dean self-consciously looked down at his stomach.
"Lift," they both said together. I rolled my eyes.
"All right, then," Dean said. "We'll have to find a way in the back and sneak around…"
I sighed.
Really?
"You Winchesters make everything so complicated," I said, and then I teleported myself into the lobby, right behind the guard sitting down.
He never even saw it coming. I pulled out my knife and brought it around front, giving him a big happy smile right across his throat. He gargled in his own blood, surprised, before the life fell from his eyes.
I could see Dean and Beth scurrying to get out of the Impala across the road when the second guard caught on to my presence, and pulled his gun.
Of course he was no match for me. I was upon him in an instant, knife shoved into his throat and listening to his death rattle. Humans. So easy to kill.
A clattering happened at the door, and I looked up to see Dean and Beth banging on the door, wanting to be let in. I'd already opened it after the first kill.
"Door's open!" I called out, frowning slightly when they entered and glared at me.
"What?" I asked.
"You killed them?!" Beth snapped, looking in alarm at the guards.
"We're on a tight schedule," I said, starting to walk toward the elevator. "Come on. Now you're squeamish? Please."
I pressed the button on the wall, and the doors opened almost instantly. Dean and Beth stepped into the lift and turned to look at me. I stayed where I was.
"Go get 'em tigers," I smiled as the doors started to close. Dean reached out a hand to quickly push them open.
"Wh….you're not coming?" Dean asked, confused.
"Oh, no," I said, shaking my head. "It's not safe up there. There's demons."
"Yeah, I get that," Dean said with a frown, glancing at Beth.
"Look, just do what I told you, a-and try to be convincing. It'll work like a charm. Trust me."
The door to the elevator started to close again and I did a little finger wave at them.
The plan was not, of course, going to work like a charm. I was completely setting these suckers up. But they were strong, and the two of them could get through what was about to happen. They were hunters, this is what they did.
I'd convinced the pair that they were going to be able to sell old Brady on joining us, but this demon wasn't for sale. Brady was top of the class, he wouldn't break without a little work. He sure wasn't about to hand over Pestilence just by offering them the rings from War and Famine.
Those two horsemen weren't ever getting resurrected, they were worm food. But that's not what I'd told Dean and Beth. Of course, I was counting on the wonder twins to not actually succeed in subduing the demon. That was my part to play.
I loitered around the lobby, waiting. I fingered the hessian sack in my hands, the devil's trap drawn on it was clear and unbroken.
It didn't take that long. I mean, I expected Brady to work them over. I started to think that perhaps I shouldn't have sent the girl up there with Dean. She was pregnant after all - what if something happened?
Then I told myself - I'm a freaking demon!
I'm not supposed to worry about these things. But it was Dean and Beth. There was something to be said about all the things they've been through together, the way they kept going even when the worst was done to them.
They reminded me of myself, in a way.
Right on cue, the lift doors opened. I listened from out of sight, waiting to see who exited. Peeking around a column, I saw Beth and Dean. She was supporting him, under his shoulder, they both looked a little worse for wear, but Dean had taken the brunt of the attack - evident by the blood trickling from his hairline and mouth.
"Be careful," he whispered, stepping hesitantly, as if he was expecting to be jumped at any time. They took one step out of the lift when the demon appeared behind him, hitting him from behind. Dean fell to the ground, and Beth swung at the demon, landing a punch, but that was it. Brady was good, and he recovered, throwing his hand out to connect with her chest, and sending her flying backwards into the lobby.
"Good meeting, Dean," Brady said, stepping into the lobby and adjusting his suit jacket. "You know, I'm excited."
He went to kick Dean and that was when I made my move.
I zapped myself behind him, slipped the ready and waiting sack over his head and pulled the string tight, before I smashed him over the head with a crowbar.
Brady fell to his knees with a satisfying grunt.
"Evening, uncle," I muttered. I hit him again, then again and again. Listening to the grunting and not letting up until blood started to seep through the sack, and the demon in front of me fell to the floor unconscious.
Dean watched wide eyed. Then moved to help Beth stand up, before turning to stare at my smiling face.
"What… the hell was that?!" She asked, her eyes flashing.
"That was perfect," I announced.
"Perfect?" Dean asked. "He didn't want the rings. He wanted me."
"Imagine the surprise on your face," I pointed out. You couldn't pay someone to act that out. It had been the only way forward to keep old Brady on the run, unsuspecting.
"What?" Beth asked, straightening up.
"Your ignorance and misinformation…" I explained. "I'm mean…. completely authentic. You can't fake that."
They both gaped at me.
"What?" I asked. "It went like clockwork!"
I really didn't see what the problem was. Clearly Beth was unharmed, Brady had taken the bulk of his rage out on Dean. Ergo… perfect execution.
"Not for me, you son of a bitch!" Dean snapped.
I shrugged. What could I say?
"That's what you get for working with a demon," I replied.
Impala
I was in the backseat with Brady, Dean driving - of course, and Beth beside him. He was flying down the highway, the road dark and practically abandoned. Beth was wiping at Dean's face with a wet cloth, trying to get the blood off him, and in the back - well - I was making more.
I finished the carving I was doing in good old Brady's chest, the blood pooling in the wound, when Dean spotted what I was up to.
"Hey hot stuff, watch the upholstery!" He snapped.
"Up yours, mate," I replied. "This bit of carving will tie our friend down here. No zapping off, no smoking out - locked in the meat suit… an important piece of our bargaining strategy."
I glanced ahead at the road and nodded.
"Now up here, we don't want I-50. Take 93 North," I instructed.
Beth turned to glare at me.
"What?" She asked.
"What are you talking about?" Dean echoed.
"Look, we can't take this guy back to your brother," I said.
"Why the Hell not?" Dean asked.
I hesitated. How much did I want to tell them? Would they still go along with the plan? Or would they do something stupid? It wasn't like them to be as stupid or as impulsive as their brother… but family. And well, it wasn't like the demon world had treated this family right, you know. Perhaps I could…..
"Crowley!" Dean's voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I sighed.
"They got history, all right?" I replied.
Dean hit the brakes without any warning, the car screeching to a stop at the side of the road. He turned in his seat to glare at me, his eyes flashing anger.
"Crowley, for the love of all that is…." Beth shook her head. "Really?"
"You want to go anywhere, you start talking," Dean added. "What history?"
I hesitated again.
What the hell man? This sucked!
"Crowley," Beth reasoned. "What are you getting us into?"
"You have to understand, me personally? Nothing to do with this. So, you want to get angry? That's fine, you gotta focus. We have a mission here," I started.
"Why don't I like the sound of that?" Dean asked.
"We're listening," Beth said.
"Brady was Sammy boy's best buddy in college," I said, seeing Beth's eyes widen. "That was, until my uncle here took him over. I mean he's not my literal uncle, but… well…. these things are complicated."
"Complicated?" Dean said. "I ought to kill you all."
"But you can't, and Bambi here knows it," I nodded at Beth. "You need me as much as I need you."
Beth looked at Dean, frowning.
"Now, we can't take this guy back to Sam, because as soon as we do he is going to go ballistic. He can't handle the truth! He will kill him before we get the information we need."
Dean processed all this, and I could see the agreement in his eyes. He knew his brother, what he was capable of. He knew I was right, but he didn't like it.
"Dean," she looked at him. "You realise what this means? This is Sam's life, and everything… he thought he'd been out, when all this time…"
"They were there, biding their time to break him," Dean said softly, looking out the windshield and chewing on his lip.
"Which is why you both know I'm right about this…" I pressed.
They thought it over in silence. I waited. I admired the way they were able to do that, almost as if they had telepathy - except they didn't need it - they'd simply spent so many years in each other's codependent back pockets that they knew what was going on in the other's brain.
"He can't do it," I kept going.
"Yes he can," Dean replied, looking at Beth.
I saw Beth hesitate.
"He can," Dean pushed. "And he deserves the chance to prove himself. You'd give it to me."
"Prove himself?" I scoffed. "You really think he can…"
"Yes," Beth said, cutting me off. "We've got the lead. Just as you wanted. Now we either do this with our brother, or not at all. That's the reason we're stuck in this situation in the first place. We're not leaving him behind again,"
I sighed, slumping back in the seat and crossed my arms with a scowl.
"You're making a huge mistake," I said. But there was nothing to be done. I needed them, and they - inexplicably - wanted Sam.
It's okay, I told myself, holding on to the last of my rope. It's a battle, not the war. We still had a chance to win on that front.
Abandoned House
It was just coming up dawn. As soon as we got back I zapped myself into the house. This was a disaster, and I wanted to do a little foreshadowing on that front, if for no other reason than when it all went to Hell in a handbasket I could look at Dean and tell him 'I told you so'.
"Where's Dean?" Sam asked as soon as he spotted me, his suspicious eyes peering past me.
"Now…" I started. "For the record, I'm against this."
Sam hesitated, a frown creasing his brow at the statement. Excellent.
"Negotiating a high-level defection - it's very delicate business,' I continued. Sam looked past me to the small foyer or dining room off where we were standing. He heard Dean and Beth murmuring to each other as they got Brady sorted. Sam took a step toward them, but I cut him off, holding my hand up in warning.
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.
"I begged them not to come back. We should be miles away...from you. He replied with a colorful rejoinder about my "corn chute.""
Sam scoffed at me, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
"So, go ahead," I said with a touch more dramatic than was probably necessary. "Go…. ruin our last best hope." Sam glared at me and hesitantly stepped past me. This time I let him go. He took a few more steps and I felt my gut sink.
"It's only the end of the world." I pointed out, not that I thought it would do anything to contain the tsunami of Sam Winchester.
As I followed at a distance, I saw Dean finishing up a few knots, tying Brady to a chair in the middle of a the dining room. A devil's trap - although unnecessary courtesy of the one carved on the man's chest - was still on the ground. I made note of this as I did not want to get caught in that. The demon was still hooded, and Beth was standing nearby, fingering the demon knife and lost in thought.
"What's going on, Dean?" Sam asked, coming to a halt in front of the scene.
Dean's face was stern and he gave his brother a meaningful look before slowly getting to his feet.
"I need you to stay on mission, okay? Focused."
Sam frowned, glancing from Dean to Beth, who was now watching her brother with the same concern.
"I don't understand," Sam said. "What's all this about?"
"It's going to be okay Sammy," Beth said quietly, moving to place a hand on his forearm.
"We're doing this because we trust you," Dean said.
"Trust me to what?" Sam asked.
The figure on the chair stirred at the sound of voices, and then cocked his head to the side.
"Sam?" Brady asked. "Sam, is that you?"
The jig was up. We all knew it, and with a deep sigh, Dean reached out and tugged on the sack over the demon's head, pulling it free to reveal that bloodied face of one of Sam's oldest friends.
"Brady?" Sam asked, incredulous.
"No," Beth said, shaking her head sadly.
The demon chuckled. "Brady hasn't been Brady in years. Not since, oh….middle of our Sophomore year?"
Sam stilled. My whole body was itching with nerves. I hated being this out of control, leaving everything to the whim of a giant baby barely out of diapers. He could snap. With everything he'd been through, it would have already broken a lesser man. Beth, I noticed, didn't move away from Moose, instead she squeezed on his arm, and looked up at him with an impeaching stare.
"W...what?" Sam stuttered finally.
"That's right?" Brady nodded. "You had a devil on your shoulder even back then. All right, now, let it all sink in."
Sam thought it over. I'm pretty sure we all were, but he had to reach the same conclusion we all had. He had to see the pattern, the consequences, the reality of what had just happened.
One heartbeat. Two.
And then…
"You son of a bitch," Sam said, shaking his head.
"You son of a bitch!" He approached the demon, Beth moving with him, and Dean met them half way, catching his brother across the chest and holding him.
"You introduced me to Jess!" Sam yelled.
"Ding, ding! I think he's got it!" Brady grinned.
Sam struggled against Dean, pushing toward the demon, his rage doing exactly what I'd expected it to do. The moose was about to lose all control and destroy the one hope we had of finding Pestilence.
"Sam, stop. You can't," Beth said, holding him back on the one side, Dean on the other.
"I'm gonna kill you!" Sam shouted, practically foaming at the mouth.
"Damn it, Sam!" Dean muttered. I rolled my eyes, preparing to zap in and knock Sam out. I didn't have to though.
Meeting Beth's eyes, Dean nodded and together they pushed back against their little brother, shoving him past me, through the archway, and into the living room we'd entered from.
"Get out of my way!" Sam ordered.
"No," Dean responded, shoving the man back and stepping in front of the entrance to the room beyond.
"Get out of my way, Dean," Sam said.
"There is only one way to win, and it ain't by killing that thing in there," Dean said.
I practically slow clapped.
I mean, it was going exactly as I'd imagined it would.
Which was why I'd not wanted to tell Sam, after all.
"Well," I said with a cheer to my voice. "Sounds like you got him nice and fluffed. Thanks so much."
"Sammy, stop. You need to listen to us. We need Pestilence to get at the Devil," Beth pointed out, her arm now across Sam's chest as he held firm against her, readying himself to push past both her and Dean.
"And we need Brady to get at Pestilence," Dean added.
"Why?" Sam asked, shaking his head and glaring at me. "Because Crowley said so? Because we trust him now? Like I trusted Ruby? Or like I trusted Brady back at school?"
Dean and Beth hesitated slightly, but they knew as much as I did that our days were numbered.
I groaned, throwing my hands in the air and then stalked into the other room, pulling up a chair and turning it around so I could straddle it in front of the demon, and lean on the back.
"Look, do the math yourself," I said to Brady. "If Lucifer wins, he'll turn this place into his kingdom. When the Morningstar cleans house, we all get the mop."
Brady laughed at me. "He created us. Why would he destroy us? That makes no sense."
"Look at who...at what he is," I pointed out. "Then take a look at what we are."
There was a little known story about Lucifer and Lilith, one that hadn't been told correctly in eons. Originally, everyone had known the story, had seen the shame and disgusting act God had committed against one of his counterpart's angels.
Lilith had been an angel called Layiel… sent to watch over Adam, keep him company. But Adam had become obsessed, and wanted the angel for himself. So God, wanting to please his new creation, ripped out her grace and turned her human.
Naturally this had pissed off the Goddess, who then decided to wage war against God, and basically everything had turned bad after that. The Goddess lost, banished to the void while her angels were given the choice to serve God, or be cast into Hell along with the one angel of God's who had disobeyed him and sided with the Goddess.
Samael.
Lucifer.
He had loved Layiel, and when she was taken from them, he turned on his creator. He lost. Michael cast him into Hell, to rule as the eternal king of Hell forever, along with any of the angels who would not bow to God.
Layiel fled the Garden with Lucifer, but she had been desecrated by the human, and lost her light. In Hell, she fell even darker until she turned into the very first demon.
Demons were born of Lilith, and like her, Lucifer both loved and despised us.
"Look at who -at what he is. Then take a look at what we are," I pointed out to my uncle.
"Maybe you should be a little less worried about our necks and be a little more worried about yours," he pointed out.
"Has crossed my mind," I admitted. "That's not really the point."
"Actually, Crowley, that is the point. No one will know greater torment than you. Lucifer is never gonna let you die. As for me, I know the score. I'm dead, whether I tell you anything or not. So I think I'll die on the winning side, thanks."
I couldn't let him see my fear.
Was I winning? I couldn't tell.
I had to let him think he was winning.
Don't let them see your fear.
"Good talk," I said, straightening up. "Cheers."
I turned on my heel and walked back into the room with the others, closing the glass doors behind me. Dean was sitting in a threadbare armchair, nursing a beer and staring at the ceiling. Beth was pacing the floor in front of the fireplace.
"Well, how'd it go? He buy your girl scout cookies?" Dean asked.
"Not yet," I said. I couldn't let them see my concerns either. "Where's your moose?" I asked.
"He's cooling off," Dean replied, nodding toward the stairs.
"All right, then," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "Get bent."
I turned, and started for the door.
"You going somewhere?" Dean called out, and Beth stopped pacing to look in my direction.
I threw my hands in the air. "Well, he won't budge," I pointed out, nodding toward the room with Brady in it. "So now I go stick my neck out."
"What are you going to do?" Beth asked.
"Exactly the kind of desperate swashbuckle I've been trying to avoid," I said. "Now I go kick open a hive of demons."
I thought about it, considered the ramifications of what I was going to do. I sure hoped they were right about this plan, because otherwise, I was going to be in a world of hurt if Lucifer won.
"This whole bloody ring business better work," I muttered, and then I focused on my destination and zapped out of there.
The whole thing about Brady and Sam was that it went right back to the beginning. It wasn't something I knew about, not on my initial pay grade, but Azazel - he was cunning, and he had a penchant for the dramatics. We had that in common at least.
Brady had been Sam's best friend when he abandoned the family business and went off to Stanford. Brady had been a good kid - straight and narrow - perfect, really. But he'd had some weaknesses, and as such he'd become their point of access.
Thanksgiving, Sophomore year, Brady had gone home on the break. That was where they got him. When he came back from the break, the demon had been in control and Brady had seemingly gone off the rails: dropped out of pre-med, drugs, women. That had been the new Brady. That was my uncle.
Sam had spent so much time trying to get his friend back on track, but he'd been fighting a losing cause. And for all their hunting, these kids had never come up against demons before.
I was stalking through the streets, headed for a yet another demon hangout. But first, I had to check in on my favourite little trio. I'd left one of those coins in the room with them, just in case Moose did anything stupid…
I pulled out my phone and plugged into the app, the one that would activate the coin so I could listen in.
"You really were a good friend. But ol' yellow eyes didn't send me back to be your friend. No, we could tell we were starting to lose you. You were becoming a mild-mannered, worthless sack of piss," Brady was talking to whom I could only assume was Sam. Which naturally had me concerned as to what he'd done to the squirrel and Bambi.
"Now, come on," Brady went on. "We couldn't have that. You were our favourite. So I hooked you up with a pure, sweet, innocent piece of tail. And then I toasted her on the ceiling. That's right - Azazel might have put the hit out on Jessica, but, man, I got to have all the fun!"
I hesitated. Was this stupid ass demon trying to get himself killed?!
Yes, of course he was.
Because he was going to break, and he knew it was only a matter of time.
Could I take the chance? I had to finish stirring up the hornets nest, I couldn't delay.
Brady laughed.
"You know, she thought we were friends, too. Let me right in. She was baking cookies… she was so surprised...so hurt when I started in on her."
Damn it! Where was that squirrel when you needed him?
"Come on!" Brady said suddenly to Sam's silence. "Do it if it'll make you feel better! Do it, Sammy! Do it! Come on! Come on. Ohhhhh."
I'd heard enough. I needed to get back there and do damage control.
Couldn't have the moose losing control.
When I zapped back into the living room, Dean and Beth were banging on the door to the bathroom.
"Come on!" Dean yelled, and then Sam entered the room, moving toward it.
"Hey, hey, hey! All right! Wait! I'm gonna open it," Sam said from this side. The yelling stopped, and Sam removed the chair from under the handle, allowed them to open the door.
"What happened?" Dean asked, pushing past him and moving toward the dining area where Brady was trapped.
"Nothing," Sam said.
"My ass!" Dean retorted.
"Dean, I'm fine," Sam said.
Beth was looking him over, a confused expression on her face. I had to admit to feeling the same way. I mean, Sam Winchester wasn't known for his self-restraint, even in the demon world.
"What about Brady?" She asked.
"Like you said…" Sam sighed. "We need him."
I was impressed that he'd managed to exert that kind of impulse control. Yet here we were, a demon and three hunters, working together, trying to save the world.
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
We took a time out to give Brady time to sweat. I knew him well enough to know that torture he could face without fear, negotiations were easy as well so long as he thought he had the control. But waiting? Waiting would force him to doubt, and once you had that seed of uncertainty planted, you took the upper hand.
I straightened my clothes, fixed my hair, and then cleared my throat before turning to face the other room.
"Show time!" I announced to myself, just low enough that I could hear myself say it, but no one else could.
Then I stalked into the room, sighed deeply, and shook my head at Brady.
"God," I said. "The day I've had."
I took a few steps, looking contemplative, before turning back and rubbing my hands at the demon.
"Good news," I announced. "You're going to live forever!" I beamed at him, smug and sure of myself.
Brady frowned, clearly unhappy with my proclamation.
"What did you do?"
I shrugged, took a few steps to my left, then back to my right, tilting my head to the side.
"Went over to a demons' nest," I told him, "had a little massacre. Must be losing my touch, though - let one of the little toads live."
I smiled. "Ooops."
I held one finger up in the air, shaking it at him, looking as innocent as I could fathom. "Also might have given said toad the impression that you left your post last night because you and I are -wait for it - lovers in league against Satan."
I let it sink in. Brady's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he realised how eternally screwed he was, just by having that little piece of rumour out in the world.
"Hello darling…"
I particularly liked that little touch. I mean, this was Hell - fact checking was not something that these imbeciles did. A rumour could go a long way, and in this case, it was going - as far as I was concerned - to take us straight to the horseman.
Brady sighed.
I had him. I knew it. He knew it. The whole damn world knew it, if they were paying attention.
"So," I said, clapping my hands together and getting down to business. "So, now Death is off the table. Now you get to be on the Boss's eternal-torment list with little old me."
"Oh, no, no, no, no," Brady said, shaking his head. "No."
The Winchesters had followed me into the room and stood watching from the arch.
"Something else we have in common -apart from our torrid passion, of course - craven self-preservation," I pointed out. "So, now, why don't you tell me where Pestilence is at?"
In the distance a dog howled, and Brady looked up in alarm.
"Oh, God, Crowley," he muttered, panic flooding his eyes.
"Was that a Hellhound?" Dean asked from behind me. I heard the slight pitch in his voice and realised that you couldn't fake that kind of panic. Deano was still having nightmares on occasion about the creatures that had dragged him to Hell. It really hadn't been that long since he'd gotten out of the Pit, and no one - not even I - just got over that.
"I'd say yeah," I nodded calmly.
"Wait," Beth said, her voice a little more level than her hubby's. "Why was that a Hellhound?"
I had to play this cool. I was the ringmaster, the director, the god damned conductor in this little show. I swallowed, and reached into my pocket, pulling out a silver coin that was very familiar to me.
"What's that?" Sam asked, watching my movements.
"Remember I was telling you about my crafty little tracking device?" I asked, seeing Beth scowl at me. I chuckled internally, she was going to hate me for life because I'd listened in on their little liaisons.
"Yeah," Sam replied.
I shrugged, tossing the coin in the air and then catching it. "Demons planted one on me."
I looked at the faces of everyone around me, especially the terror on Brady's face. This was going like clockwork. Humans were so easy to manipulate.
"You're saying a hellhound followed you here?" Sam asked.
"Well, technically, he followed this," I said, holding the coin up. I'm sure I looked like I was feigning bravado - little did they know that I was more in control of this situation than they thought.
"Get me out of here," Brady said. "I'll tell you anything you want."
Bingo!
"Shut up," Sam snapped, his face dark and angry.
"Okay, then, we should go," Dean said, looking around the room. I saw him reach out for Beth, slipping his hand in against her back. It was a comfort to him, but his breathing was still quicker than usual.
"Sorry lovies," I said. "No one knows more about the hounds than I. You're long past the point of "go."" I finished by tossing the coin to Dean who caught it and then frowned at the seemingly innocent item.
I vanished into thin air as I did it - the illusion complete.
Little did they know I was outside - watching, waiting to see what good old Brady was going to do. But again, like anything, the reactions of the people around us were what made the act so believable.
"Damn it." Dean said.
"I told you!" Sam countered.
"Oh, well good for you," Dean mocked, his eyes narrowing.
"Don't start," Beth said, stepping in between them. Her eyes however were on Dean, wary and concerned about how he was handling the idea of our incoming predators.
"We have salt in the kitchen," Dean said, nodding. He sucked in a deep breath, looking into her eyes, and she smiled encouragingly at the older brother.
"I'll watch Brady," Sam announced.
"Watch me?" Brady scoffed. "Get me the Hell out of here!" He was squirming, fighting the restraints holding him to the wooden chair. Outside, the howling and snarling continued.
Dean and Beth hurried out of the room, leaving Sam standing there with the demon. There was the sound of glass breaking, and shouts from Tweedledum and Tweedledee in the kitchen. A couple of shotgun rounds were fired, and then Dean and Beth backed their way into the dining room, guns up, scanning the room ahead of them.
"Salt?" Sam asked from where he was struggling to undo the ropes binding Brady to the chair. Beth shook her head.
A low growl a few yards away, and I realised it was time to up this play.
"Damn it, get me out of here!" Brady cried out.
"Shut up," Dean said.
"Great. Just great," Brady muttered.
My turn.
I quickly zapped back to my last hidey hole, where I kept my own secret weapon, and part two of this unfolding drama. Within seconds I was back in the house, hearing the Hell hound I'd left behind advance on the Winchesters.
"Hey!" I yelled, getting its attention.
"You're back?" Dean asked.
I shrugged. "I'm invested," I told him. "Currently."
I held up a hand, and the Hellhound barked from the other side of Dean.
"Stay!" I commanded him.
"You can control them?" Beth asked.
"Not that one," I said, pointing to the hound that was across the room, closest to Dean.
"I brought my own," I continued, reaching down to pat the head of my dark companion which was nearly as tall as me. Only Brady and I could see the creatures in the room, and the idiot tied to the chair was beyond comforting, still struggling against his ropes.
"Mine's bigger," I informed Beth. "Sic him, boy!"
"Go, go, go!" Dean shouted as my hound raced at the other creature, a mess of snarling and growling plus splintering wood as they crashed into a wall. The Winchesters hurried outside of the house, Sam escorting Brady who was free - for now.
As the night air blanketed us, I looked back at the house where a battle was engaged inside and I smiled. Like clockwork.
"I'll wager $1,000 my pup wins," I said, grinning at Beth. She stared at me in shock, her mouth hanging open a little.
Seriously, no one appreciates my humour.
But the job was done. Everyone had played their role to a tee. You'd think Dean and Beth would have caught on to that second time around, but no - they were just as enraged and rattled by the hellhound fight as if had been a real threat.
A short while later we were all standing in a dark alleyway - enclosed on three sides of us by brick walls.
Brady was doing exactly what I thought he'd be doing.
"Yeah. I'm sure Pestilence will be there," Brady said, handing over a piece of paper with an address. "Thanks."
I moved away to stand with Dean and Beth.
"What do you think," he asked me.
"It's good," I nodded to him, glancing back at Brady. " You got no reason to lie, have you? Like I said before, you're in my boat now."
"You've screwed me," Brady spat out. "For eternity."
"Nah," I said, waving a hand at him. "Won't last that long. Trust me."
I turned my back on him, following Dean down the alley past Sam and Beth who were standing side by side at the end. Dean and Beth's eyes met and they nodded to each other, she moving to join him with a bag of salt behind Sam from one wall to the other.
"Where are you going?" Brady asked, frowning at me.
"I'm going to do you a favour," I said to Brady, then looking at Sam. "I expect we'll be in touch."
Beth stopped pouring the salt long enough to let me past, and then closed the salt line, the gesture not lost on the two remaining men inside.
"What is this?" Brady asked.
"All those angels, all those demons, all those sons of bitches," Dean said, looking at his brother. "They just don't get it, do they, Sammy?"
"No, they don't, Dean," Sam replied in a deadpan voice which sent a quiet chill through me.
"You see, Brady," Beth said, walking across the line to Sam and handing him the demon killing knife. "We're the ones you should be afraid of," she finished, turning on her heel and crossing back to Dean.
Brady took the knife in and shook his head, rolling his eyes.
"I bet this is a real moment for you, big boy. Gonna make you feel all better?" He asked as Sam advanced on him.
"It's a start."
"Gonna make up for all the times that we yanked your chain - Yellow eyes, Ruby, me? But it wasn't all our fault, was it? No, no, no, no. You're the one who trusted us. You're the one who let us into your life, let us whisper in your ear over and over and over again." The demon backed step by step away from Sam, toward the wall - but he couldn't run forever.
"Ever wonder why that is, Sammy? Ever wonder why we were so in your blind spot? Maybe it's because we got the same stuff in our veins and, deep down, you know you're just like us."
Brady lunged at Sam, but the human was fast. He side stepped and nicked his old friend with the blade.
"Aaaah!" Brady cried out in pain, starting to pant. "Maybe you hate us so much because you hate what you see every time you look in the mirror. You ever think of that?!"
Beth took a step toward Sam, but Dean reached out, stilling her with the mere touch of his hand on her arm, shaking his head. She bit down on her lip, but paused, continuing to watch.
"Maybe the only difference between you and a demon...is your Hell is right here," he moved once again toward Sam, but he was clearly outmaneouvered when locked in his body, no more demons tricks - just him and Sam in an alley. Sam swung his arm forward, stabbing the demon in the stomach hard, pushing him backwards and against a wall. He held the weapon, watching with steely eyes as the light from the dagger rippled through Brady and he died.
"Interesting theory," Sam muttered, then he yanked the knife out, turning on his right foot and stalking over the salt line, not stopping when he reached his siblings.
As he neared me I decided it was time for me to go.
If there was one thing I knew, it was that Sam Winchester was unpredictable. I'd helped this time, but who knew when his patience would waver and I'd find myself at the uncomfortable end of that pig sticker.
No, I knew when to run, and that was now.
I'd gotten what I wanted.
Now, I had one more card to play…
Several Days Later
He never saw me coming. That's the beauty of being a demon, you could pop in to pretty much anywhere you wanted and no one was any the wiser. You'd think a hunter's house would be a little more set up - some sigils to warn everyone…. But no.
I looked around the dusty, unloved house - sunlight streamed in through dirty windows to cast a pale yellow wash over an otherwise dark room. The man had his back to me - same old flannel shirt and baseball cap. Nothing changed.
"Yea, I followed up. Nasty omens, but none of it's Death with a capital "d." Well, just give me a ring if it turns into anything. And, Rufus...You watch your ass out there," Bobby said.
He hung up the phone, and I spoke. "Chin up. Cavalry's arrived."
Bobby spun his wheelchair around, grabbing the pistol in his lap and cocking the hammer.
"Charming," I said. "That won't work on me. Name's Crowley. Maybe you've…"
"You're Crowley?" Bobby interrupted.
"In the flesh-of a moderately successful Literary Agent out of New York," I announced.
Bang!
"Aaah!" I yelled as a bullet hit me in the breast pocket. "I see you have heard of me," I muttered.
I gasped for a breath, and then took out my handkerchief, collecting the used bullet in it. "I liked this suit," I said, sighing at the hole in it.
"What are you doing here?"
"Looking out for Crowley," I replied.
"Meaning…?"
"The Winchesters are on to ring number three, but we still need number four. I'm here to help," I said. Bobby stared at me, as if not quite believing, yet he wasn't stupid - he knew I'd be here for a reason.
"You know where Death is?" Bobby asked, wheeling closer.
"No," I said with a shrug. "Haven't the foggiest."
Bobby grabbed a shotgun off the table next to him and aimed at me.
"Well, then get the hell off my property before I blast you so full of rock salt, you crap margaritas."
"That's a mite unfriendly," I said, holding a hand out placatingly. "Seeing as I could be getting you Death's location in about the time it'd take you to reload."
"You're just gonna chat some demons up and hope they don't recognize you?" Bobby asked.
"God, no," I scoffered. "That could get me killed."
Seriously, did they really think I'd do anything that would risk my own self-preservation. We weren't talking about Sam here.
"But," I continued, "there is this little spell that I know."
"That so?"
"Results are 100% guaranteed," I nodded.
"Okay," Bobby said, his eyes narrowing. "Then why are you snake-oiling me?"
"Well, it's a little bit…" I took a step toward the man, but when he raised the gun again I stopped. "...embarrassing. There's this… technicality."
"Uh-huh."
"I need a little something to get the magic going," I said.
"And what's that?" Bobby said sarcastically.
"You make a wish. I can give you anything you want, mate - Up to and including Death's coordinates. All I need is…"
"My soul…" Bobby finished. Ah. So he did get it.
"I've done more with less. Let's just say when they're getting their Grammys, they shouldn't all be thanking God. It's worth it, Bobby. Think."
"Okay," Bobby said after a moment's consideration. "Here's my counter." He pulled the trigger and shot me full of rock salt.
"Ow!" I yelled. "Bloody hell! Feisty."
"Get out," Bobby said.
"I'll give it right back," I offered.
"You think I'm a natural-born idjit?" Bobby asked.
"Quite the contrary," I said. "Look, you're right to be suspicious. But I'm your ally. Enemy of my enemy and all that. I need the devil back in his stock. In fact, my delicate ass depends on it. I promise you ...temporary loan. I'll give it...right..back."
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Song for this chapter is: Fight the Good Fight by Triumph
Sorry it's taken so long to get an update out! Hope you enjoyed this take from Crowley's perspective.
Please leave a review - I love to hear what you think!
P.S. If you want to get a peak into exactly what Crowley heard that Valentine's Night, pop over to Dean & Beth: X-Files for the details :)