*Two days later**

"Get out of here," Gibbs said, rousing his team from their delirium from lack of sleep. They'd been hunting the murderer for two days straight, on very little rest. The lack of evidence made Gibbs' attitude worse by the hour. When he finally told them to go home, no one waited around to debate the command.

Ellie was the first one in the elevator, yawning as it closed. Tim smiled at her as he checked his watch. It was nearing midnight. His text had been answered exactly 24 hours after he'd sent it - per usual - and they'd arranged to meet tonight, so Tim could brief his friend on what was happening. Tim quickly packed his things and pulled on his leather coat as he hurried toward the elevator.

"Hey Probie!"

Tim winced when he heard Tony's voice getting closer to him.

"I don't want to go out for a drink, Tony. I'm exhausted, and I want to go to bed."

"How do you know that's what I was going to ask you?"

"You ask me every Wednesday. I always say no."

"Touché. Ok, McBeautySleep, see you bright and early tomorrow."

Tim stepped into the elevator.

"Good night, Tony."

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Tim breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the wall. He really didn't need Tony snooping around in this - it was something he had to do himself. Involving anyone else would surely be a death sentence.

Tim hurried to his car and left the Navy Yard. As he pulled out onto the street, he performed a mirror check to make sure he wasn't being tailed by anyone - especially Tony - and turned the opposite way toward Rock Creek Park. He pulled off the road near the entrance, and obscured his car behind some low-hanging branches. Looking around him to make sure no one saw him, he slipped under the closed gates to the park and started down the drive.

About a quarter mile down the drive, Tim hooked a right and slipped into the woods. He walked about 200 feet before meeting with one of the many hiking paths the park offered. He followed it to a spot where it crossed with another path, and there, he stopped and waited.

Rustling in the bushes behind him twenty minutes later put Tim on high alert. He drew his weapon and moved away from the bushes, in case he needed a clear shot at whatever was in there. He kept his weapon aimed as a tall man stepped out of the bushes and into the clearing. The man saw him, and raised his hands in the air.

"I can't help you if I'm dead."

Tim smiled and sheathed his weapon.

"You're late, Winchester."

The man stepped forward. He was younger than Tim, with shaggy, sandy brown hair and wearing a torn army jacket.

"It's not easy getting around Washington D.C. when you're wanted by multiple Federal Agencies."

"He came for me, Sam."

Sam immediately schooled his features.

"He wasn't supposed to. Not yet. I was there."

"You're telling me. Crowley isn't the only thing that's going on right now." Tim slipped a folder out from inside his jacket and handed it to Sam. The younger man took the folder and flipped through the pictures.

"Shit. Looks like Crowley is letting his pet hellhounds have a little fun."

"Do you think this guy made some kind of deal? I mean, don't hellhounds come after you when the deal is up?"

"That's usually how it works... but Crowley makes it up as he goes along... plus, he's been promoted since the last time you saw him."

"He mentioned it... do you want to tell me what the hell has been going on since the last time I saw you?"

"Later. Right now, we have to figure out what the hell Crowley is doing in D.C."

"Sam, I'm not ready - I mean, he's-"

"I won't let him cash in on your deal yet, Tim. You have my word."

"Where do we start?"

Sam looked around.

"Exactly how far into this park are we?"

"Far enough."

"Okay. We have to summon Crowley."

"You want to what?"

"If you want all of this to stop, we have to go to the source."

"But here? Now?"

"We have to do it as soon as possible - and I don't want your Boss calling to interrupt."

Tim took a deep breath, and let his eyes flutter closed for a moment.

"Okay Sam, I'll follow your lead. How do we summon him?"

Sam went back over to the clump of bushes he'd entered the clearing through, and pulled out a Duffel bag he'd stashed. Tim watched as his friend expertly set up the makeshift altar they were going to need. When he was finished, Sam handed Tim an old book, flipped open to an earmarked page.

"Read that one," Sam instructed, pointing to a small paragraph of Latin.

Tim read the Latin slowly, and when he was finished, snapped the book shut nervously.

"Brought reinforcements, Timmy?"

Tim jumped and nearly dropped the book in his hands when Crowley appeared right in front of them.

"We had a deal, Crowley," Sam said, stepping forward. "You weren't supposed to come for him yet."

"I can do whatever the hell I want," Crowley said angrily. He waved a hand, and sent Tim flying backward across the clearing, slamming him into a tree and holding him there. "Did you really think summoning me here was a good idea, Sammy? Haven't you learned anything, Moose?"

"I didn't summon you here to fight, Crowley. I want to know about the hellhounds."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why are you letting your hellhounds snack on Navy Officials?"

Crowley chuckled.

"As scintillating as that sounds, I can't take credit for it... you've summoned the wrong Demon, boys." He turned his attention to Tim. "I think you and I have a date, do we not?"

"Please... we had a deal! I kept up my end!" Tim shouted. "I haven't been looking for it, I swear!"

Crowley moved closer to Tim, until they were practically face to face.

"The one thing I have in common with your Boss, Timmy, is that I can tell when you're lying."

"I'm not lying!"

"I know."

Tim suddenly dropped to the ground in a heap.

"This was just a friendly reminder... you try to look for it, and the next time you see me, you won't live to tell about it."

With that, Crowley was gone.

Sam rushed to Tim's side.

"You all right?"

Tim nodded as he tried to regain his breath.

"Good, because we have a lot of work to do."

TBC...