KittyCatAttack: 1- Yes, Cas is being sassy in response to Dean's modesty, because he finds it needless to be mad when he was just worried, which Dean should've noticed but he didn't because he's an insensitive prat. Which is also why he stopped when Dean stopped being mean. 2- It is, no you don't, and we'll have plenty of fun before I have to change the rating. It's not a porno, there is more to have fun with here than sex. 3- No, although he didn't want him or Sam to accidentally shoot him, it was mainly what he said in the fic. Also, a tiny bit of irrational worry as you said (Tiny), and Cas was starting to annoy him. Cutely. He was annoying Sam a bit too. Not cutely. Dean was worried Sam would shoot Cas. How about that? Good? Okay, moving on. 4- YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT WHUMP IS! Stiles has not been whumped yet. Except in chapter 8, and that was more Cas instinctive self defense. (Sorry for that, Stiles.) Cora would have whumped him but she has this thing about not dying it a firey explosive car crash. Derek was too worried. Dean hasn't been whumped. Werewolves just hate him. 5&6- Leave Scott alone. He's an alpha, he's got shit to deal with... He'll be here next chapter. When I said "will you please read this and review" (So maybe there were more threats than that, sue me...) I meant when you'd read it through... Every other chapter would have been good... Every chapter is a little much when you're 11 chapters behind. That being said, thank you for the support. I'd say love you, but I hate for your family to see it.
Personal issues, sorry anybody else!
Thanks to everyone else who reviewed! Which was no one. You're great!
And thanks to everyone reading, Love that you're keeping with it, but seriously: I will say something wonderful about you in the AN if you review. You guys worry me. It's like you're standing in the corner just watching creepily. I'll give you verbal cookies if you just come out.
This chapter is either horribly amazing, or amazingly horrible. Either way, enjoy it.
Two Warnings: Very long, and a LOT of Mooseley. Because Crowley's POV.
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"I told you to keep me informed!" Crowley shouted, Red faced, and sounding as if gravel was running up his throat and out his mouth. "People are getting eviscerated, dismembered, and Disemboweled all around him and you don't bloody think it's worth mentioning, you cow brained idiot?!" Meanwhile Ms. Martin, for all intensive purposes his vessel's wife, tried not to shake as she cleaned up the living room.
"I know you mean being bled to death, but technically evisceration is the same as disemboweling." Crowley opened his mouth to yell again, but she spoke first. "Not the point, I know. You said to inform you of any demonic happenings, or signs that his powers were resurfacing. From what I can tell, he can't even remember who or what he was." Crowley snapped at her.
"I noticed!" She walked past, taking a couple bowls and glasses to the kitchen. Crowley didn't bother following. She wouldn't dare run from him, even if she had a reason to. But he wouldn't hurt her. They had a standing deal, and he wouldn't interfere with a deal. When they would get in touch before, he also was reluctant to kill her because of exactly what she got out of their deal. 'Their' child. He wouldn't have let Lydia be left with that prat excuse for a father she'd grown up with. "And you've let him get close to Lydia? She'd have been better off being raised by wolves than you!" Ms. Martin sighed from the kitchen, which was more than easy to hear from the living room in the silent house, at least for Crowley. She turned on the sink to rinse the dishes she'd carried off.
"Remember Dear, I didn't know it was definitely him. I assumed, because he had that 'something', similar to Lydia. Whether it was him or not, it's not like I could say anything. She's very headstrong, just like you. If I had said she couldn't hang around with him, she'd have wanted to know why and she wouldn't have stayed away from him either way. Besides, this way, it's easier to keep an eye on him, isn't it Dear?"
"That's -" And of course the door bell rings. He could never get a good yell going in this house. "That is-"
"Darling, could you get that? I need a minute in here." He sighed. Coming here he quickly lost any desire to be normal- well human normal, not demon normal. He didn't want to be demon normal lately either. But the apple pie lifestyle lacked any luster. Positively infuriated him sometimes. He didn't see why Sam idealized it. Granted, if Sam was involved... He was still in his thoughts when he opened the door. Something about hoping it wasn't door to door religion salesmen. They depressed him. He hardly even noticed the fist before it was impacting his cheekbone and nose. He stumbled back and clutched his simultaneously breaking and healing nose. He swore he'd kill whoev- Oh.
"I warned you, Crowley, that if you hung up on us again, I'd break your nose. Did you really think we'd just forget you were around?" Crowley gave a groan.
"Cristo, Samatha, if you're ever lacking capital, look into a career as a Dominatrix." He smirked when Dean gave a twitch. It was worth burning his tongue. It's not like he planned to eat anyway... "That's by far the 7th most satisfying punch I've ever received. Come in then..." He stepped aside, and the three of them came in. "What do you need, my ungrateful chimps?"
"We told you, an explanation!" Crowley shushed the tall man only to get an unbelievably epic bitch face in return.
"And I told you, put a ring on my finger before you start acting like my wife."
"Darling, who is it?!" The boys looked toward the kitchen, a mix of worry, confusion, and quick panicked fear crossing their faces at once. Crowley admitted he may have put his back into that eye roll, but at this point it was necessary.
"Just some friends of mine, Dear!" The three tried to figure out was going on in their minds. Ms. Martin was silent for a moment.
"Should I go out for a bit?" She called cautiously. The boys looked to him now.
"No, I'm quite sure they'll be more civil with you here." Crowley couldn't help but smirk at that cute dumb look on Sam's face. And Dean and Cas' faces, of course. Dean spoke up first.
"Who the hell is in the kitchen, Crowley?"
"My wife." They didn't believe him. They didn't say so, but you could see it on their face. "That 'bitch face' is never gone for long, huh Moose? I'm serious. She's my wife. Human wife."
"Why?" Sam asked, glaring at him.
"Don't ask me, couldn't fathom what she's doing in there. You know how women are. Nitpicks and all that."
"I mean why are you married!" Sam hissed at him.
"Well, she's not my wife-wife. More of a dependant, next of kin, send a heavy check when I can, type of thing. Don't worry Moose, legally I'm single as a Stag." The sigh that Sam let out mimicked a growl. That really made Crowley smile.
"How the hell did you pull that off?" Sam shook his head. "Nevermind..."
"So why are you some chick's sugar daddy? Did you knock her up or something?" Crowley sighed and gave a shrug. "Wait, what? That's possible?!"
"Always cover up I suppose." Finally, now that Dean was freaking out, Crowley cracked a grin. "It was a deal, genius. She wanted a child, her fiancé was infertile, and I needed a... consultant of sorts, so we came to an agreement. She got divorced, and I wasn't about to let my progeny live in squalor."
"Wait... So, you're a dad..." Dean had calmed down but was still wide eyed.
"I was a father before, Dean..." Dean shook his head insistently.
"Nonono. Fergus McCloud was a father. You being a father, that's scary." Now Crowley gave a dull glare.
"Shut your mouth, boy." Dean held him hands up in surrender. "Yes, technically she's mine. I'm in town to see my daughter, that is all."
"Why not just say that then?" Sam snapped at him. Crowley just smiled.
"Having children isn't a turn on for most people, Samantha."
"So, you're just here to see her?" Dean interrupted, just as Sam seemed to have had a counter-quip.
"Yes." Crowley said sharply, getting sick of having to say the same thing 50 times.
"I don't believe him..." Cas ground out, to Dean. Crowley snapped at him.
"No one cares what you have to say, Sparkles. Just stand there and look pretty."
"Hey! I care what he has to say, so watch it, smart ass!" Dean growled at him. Crowley just huffed at Cas.
"He cared what his Daddy had to say too, look how well that worked out for him." Cas stepped forward, probably to hit him, but Sam stopped him.
"You can hit him before we go..." Sam glared at him. "Why was there a werewolf here?"
"What now?"
"The werewolf, hipster looking guy, with a human kid." Dean had that pissy edge to his voice now. Crowley played dumb.
"I hadn't even noticed he was a mutt. The boy is a friend of my daughter's, I believe. They might be in classes or something. Didn't really bother to ask. Had her take him out because he was in the hospital, or got shot, or something. I assume by you lot, since you can't help but cause trouble..." Sam tilted his head, obviously speaking, but he didn't catch a word. Crowley wanted to bite his shoulder.
"I really want to bite your shoulder..." He said that out loud... So? Who needed a filter anyway? Now, Dean and Cas were both giving him a death glare. That was common enough. And Sam had that deeply pink blush that lit up his cheeks, and even the tip of his nose a little, with his mouth agape a little, and that look in his eyes as he stared at Crowley as if saying 'Why would you so morbidly embarrass me?' and it threatened to pull Crowley even deeper into a daze. He shook his head and cleared his throat a bit. "I'm sorry, what'd you say?" Sam tried to hide that he was mortified, thinking Crowley didn't even realize the misstep.
"I asked if you visit your 'wife' and daughter often..." Crowley shook his head.
"Not particularly. Yearly, bi-yearly. Call a lot. Monthly at least. I didn't check in for a while, with all that had been going on. So, I promised to come by so they could see I was fine."
"Does she know?" Dean interrupted his murder eyes to ask.
"My girl? That I'm a demon? Yeah, that'd be fun to explain. So, you boys working a case, or did you just stalk me to California because you need something?" Sam looked at Dean, glancing at his abdomen. Dean spoke up again, giving Sam a "shut up" look.
"Case. A lot of strange deaths around..." Crowley moved to sit in a chair. Before he could sit, Ms. Martin walked in, carrying a plate of cookies. Dean lit up at this, but Crowley just quirked an eyebrow at her.
"When the bloody hell did you have time to make those?"
"You were on the phone, the girls wanted to be alone for a minute. So, I busied myself. Oh, please Dear, help yourself." She offered, in response to Dean gesturing to the plate, like a dog to the door. Dean took one and she set them on the coffee table. "The girls left before they were done, so I figured you boys might enjoy some. And who knows, maybe if Crow had a good cookie every now and then, he wouldn't be such a prick most of the time."
"Love you too, Dear." Crowley said, giving a fake smile. Ms. Martin gave a realer smile, and kissed him on the cheek before going to do something upstairs. "Dreadful, isn't she?" Sam scoffed, sitting down next to Dean on the couch, while Cas slowly went to sit on the other side of Dean.
"Shut up, Crowley, she's nicer that you deserve..."
"She's nicer than I prefer, Moose." Crowley smirked slyly at the boys. "I like my toys a bit more verbally abusive than what you'd call normal... You didn't think I put up with you prats just for your looks, did you?" Sam and Cas rolled their eyes, but Dean gave a small shrug.
"I actually did, yeah..." Crowley couldn't help a genuine smile, but he managed to hold back a laugh. He wanted to offer the boys a beer. Lydia was going to be off with her friends for at least an hour, his wife wasn't a joy to hang around with, and it'd been more than a year that he'd been able to get this at home anywhere let alone in what for tax purposes was his own home. But Cas, the frigging giraffe, was already throwing him an odd look. Sam was used to him being this cosy around him, even Dean knew he was capable of it, but Cas had missed most of the warmer affects of his addiction, mostly due to his unwillingness to see them, to see Crowley as anything more than evil in a silk tie. If he offered them drinks, the angel would call him on acting weird, which he wasn't, but hey, if you're hiding something the last thing you want is some ass telling you you're acting off. "Hey, Jackass." Crowley looked to the snarky hunter. "You were getting that misty look again."
"I'm sorry, did you just compare me to a Poke-e-man character?"
"I thought it was called Pokémon? He is alluding to the orange haired Cerulean Gym Leader, isn't he?" Dean gave a frusturated look, and snapped at Crowley.
"Don't fuck up his progress." He turned to Cas now, speaking more softly. They're sweet... Crowley almost wondered if they were official yet, but the safe bet was always not. "Cas, I don't know what that means but yes, it is Poke-e-mon, you're right about that." He turned to Crowley again. "I was going to ask if you'd mind accompanying me to get a beer from your fridge..." Crowley gave a chortle.
"Deciding against that was smarter than I'd pegged you for." Despite the back and forth mutters, Cas hadn't seemed to drop the topic.
"Pokémon." Dean gave a confused look, wondering what Cas' point was. "It's pronounced as po-keh-mon. Pokeymon or Poke-e-mon is incorrect... Or at least, I believe it is." Dean took a second before nodding.
"Good, Cas... Uh, Crowley, would ya mind just showin' me where ya keep the beer?" Crowley would've given a smile and nod dropping a moment-ago's joke, but he suspected Dean was just looking for advice. He got up and gestured for Dean to follow. Soon Dean was nudging him to keep walking, apparently wanting to wait until they reached the kitchen to talk. Once they had, Crowley turned to face him.
"What do you want?" Dean tucked his fingers under the hem of his shirt.
"I'm having trouble with the mind-over-matter-healing feature, and Cas couldn't heal me so, could you do something?" Crowley gave his face a little quirk to show his befuddlement at his predicament.
"That's not normal. Let me see." Dean pulled up his shirt and Crowley reeled back a bit. "Well, damn. You tore yourself a new one, didn't you? Well, regardless of your idiocy, I believe I see the problem. That mutt from earlier did this to you, yeah?"
"No, another one. Same pack." Dean flinched as Crowley put his hand on Dean's abdomen, getting a close look to investigate the wounds well.
"The Alpha, maybe?"
"The Alpha? In a sticks town like this? You're kidding." Crowley discreetly rolled his eyes. You'd be surprised how important a hick town like this can be...
"Not the. Werewolves don't really go by the. Packs aren't numerous these days, but they aren't uncommon either. You can find at least one, sometimes a handful, per state. And each has an alpha, most of the times they aren't too old. They have the nature of wolves, if they don't hand over their position once they start getting weak, eventually a beta will kill them for it, even if just for the good of their back. So, was he?" Dean flinched as Crowley touched one of the slices.
"What. N-Yea- I mean, I guess. I wouldn't know how to tell the difference, never seen one. How-" Crowley cut in, assuming Dean was going to ask how to tell.
"Obviously stronger. The one Samuel caught for me had red eyes. Of course, it didn't know anything about Purgatory, so I didn't bother with it..."
"If you didn't bother with it," Dean began. Crowley could hear in his voice he didn't want to know what that meant. "how do you know so- ah, careful- how do you know so much about them?"
"I knew a hunter a long time ago." Crowley instantly considered it was safe and kind of necessary to explain. "Wolf... Hunter. Wolf hunter. When I was alive. Had an Irish Wolf Hound. Rude one, too; always barked at the Lord's daughter, even chased her through the woods often enough too. Surprised the Lord didn't put it down, he was..." Dean was staring at him. "More than you cared about?"
"Yeah, kind of. Glad you're opening up more and all. Good for you." And better for when you want to manipulate me into being human... "But you could share a little less..."
"I have no idea what you mean." Crowley said holding his face straight, still probing Dean's wounds. Dean gave a soft snort.
"Don't even try pawning that bullshit on me."
"You're daft."
"Yeah, and when I said you need to get laid I didn't think I had to tell you 'I want to bite you' isn't an appropriate pick up line." Crowley stood up straight, rolling his eyes and giving a scoff.
"It's not like I meant to say it! Aren't I usually a little smoother than that?" Dean rolled his own eyes now.
"You need help. Why don't you find some nice demon whatever to hook up with? Leave Sam out of it."
"You know, that is a great idea. What about you Squirrel? Get dinner later?"
"Oh, you wish!"
"Mm-hm, besides, Cas wouldn't be too happy about that, would he?" Dean didn't quip back, and Crowley gave the wounds another look. "You really need to tell him, Dean..."
"And you need to tell Sam you aren't just teasing him..." Crowley let his eyes meet Dean's, each agreeing silently that neither wanted to venture any further into the topic. At least not seriously. "I'm not not telling him. He just makes it difficult. He's so- so-..."
"Yeah, I know him enough to know."
"It's not just how he is! It's like him being around soothes it! If I could do the eye flicky thing, it'd prove I wasn't just telling some stupid joke, but no. Even at the door, they didn't flick. You saw. He can't even sense it in me; even looking into my eyes. How is he supposed to believe me?!" Dean exclaimed quietly. Crowley nodded.
"Well, I told you. Your demon-ness is an extension of the Mark, the Mark is an extension of you. So the Demon is the Mark is You. You like Cas. The Demon would obviously feel the same, even more so. Which means you could very well be putting him in danger..."
"What? No."
"Dean any feeling you had that you only noticed after would be attributed to the Demon. Because 'He' thrives off your emotions, reactions, feels them purely, makes you feel them more too. Have you had any untowardly feelings, any hostility-"
"No! Cas is the only one I never feel hostile toward! Ever since- that- around Cas, yeah I feel different but it's not bad. I'm calm, happy,-"
"Smitten?"
"What? No! I mean... I-I reach out for our hand to bump together without knowing. I always choose to be closer to him than I used to in favor of personal space, I-"
"Sex dreams?"
"What!?" Dean croaked loud enough for Sam and Castiel to hear, voice almost cracking. Crowley sighed, waiting for the obvious to come.
"Dean?" Sam called, worry evident in his voice.
"'M fine Sammy!" Dean gave Crowley a look before whispering. "What the hell Crowley!?"
"Don't go getting shy with me. Are you having more erotic dreams about him than usual?" Crowley spoke in a low, authoritative, murmur. He softened his voice a bit when Dean stiffened up to pure steel. "I want the truth, Squirrel." Dean gave a sigh.
"Maybe... slightly more than usual..." Dean looked like a child who'd broken a lamp.
"As in how often from how often?" Dean now looked like a child who'd parent had asked for a kiss in front of their whole school. "For all intensive purposes, consider me your doctor..." Dean gave a heaver sigh and shifted in place.
"How did we even get on this topic?! You're supposed to be helping with these!" Dean gestured to the injuries insistently before groaning and giving another sigh. "6 nights a week... Sometimes more than one a night." Crowley was a little taken back again.
"And after?" Dean gave him a bitch face and he smirked.
"Doctor my ass..." Dean huffed. "I used to only have them once a week, sometimes only once every couple weeks."
Have they gotten any more violent?"
"Uh...No? Not really..." Crowley glowered. "N-Not anything more than a cat o' nine tails... And he wasn't ever really the recipient. Nor was I... not appreciative..." Dean threw his head back. "This is more embarrassing than my first STD..."
"And it wasn't ever nonconsensual?"
"Dubcon like twice, but it's not like I didn't enjo-... You... meant... Cas. Right... No. Never." Crowley nodded.
"So. Do you think he might've been the Alpha?" Dean shrugged, glad to have stopped talking about anything uncomfortable, but jarred by the sudden change in topic.
"Uh, I didn't see his eyes glowing, but he was bigger and younger than the other guy, and the kid is human... There were others I think, but it looked like a mom car so I'm guessing teens... Unlikely one of them would be alpha with that guy in the pack. Why?"
"Well, wounds from alpha or purebred former alphas have to heal slowly. Still can't kill you, but as usual, if you leave the vessel their screwed. Not that you need to worry about that not being able to smoke off. As long as you don't get 100% distracted from them you'll heal fine. They hurt, right?"
"Yeah, like normal-ish, I guess. It threw off my senses for a bit. Now I'm at least back at my normal." Crowley nodded. He then heard Sam hurrying toward the kitchen, Castiel walking behind him quickly. He suspected Dean had probably heard them too, but he'd wanted to give the wound a nice, firm tap anyway. Dean whined, whipping his shirt down to cover them before shoving Crowley hard, which made Crowley laugh a little. Sam popped his head in just as Dean had covered himself and shoved him, and seemed to keep cool to keep Cas from knowing anything had been going on.
"We gotta go, out the back, now." Sam said calmly, hoping they were finished.
"Psycho wolf or the kids?"
"Lydia wouldn't be back yet, gave her my black card." Sam nodded.
"Let's get out of here before he smells us." Sam moved to door but Dean grabbed a can of air freshener.
"Wait." He sprayed his clothes, then Cas', careful to avoid the trench coat, then threw Sam the can. Sam did the same seeing what Dean was thinking. Then Crowley caught on. To cover the scent so he won't notice you. Crowley figured he knew what to do too. He started toward the Living room again, turning to catch the can as Sam threw it to him before ditching. Crowley sprayed the living room, dousing the couch and sprayed the walk to the door.
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Stiles just forgot his coat, if you were wondering.