Necessary info in AN guys! Do not skip.

Yaoi: *taps nose* ! You'll like this chapter.

Dana: Oh my sweet honey tomato... sweet honey tomato...

Info! Bermodeus is not a real thing. It does not mean anything. I was looking up demons to use for... reasons... And long story short... I BARELY KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT DEMONOLOGY, at least not enough to write one properly without invoking its wrath, and I wanted to not fuck up AND retain some artistic interpretation. So, Bermodeus is a mashup of the demons "Asmodeus" and "Berith". I got the info here:
en. wikipedia wiki/Classification_of_demons#First_hierarchy
"Asmodeus is a prince of the Seraphim, burning with desire to tempt men into wantonness. He is opposed by St. John the Baptist."
"Berith is a prince of the Cherubim. He tempts men to commit homicide, and to be quarrelsome, contentious, and blasphemous. He is opposed by St. Barnabas." St. Barnabas being a patron peacemaker.
They remind me of Stiles.

Enjoy the feels, guys!

.~.~.

Between her sickness and axiety, Claudia shook as she tried to make out the writings in the old leather pocket book. God damn it, why did it have to be so hard to read? She needed this. She never wanted for anything in her life. She took what fate dealt her with a smile, good or bad, and never complained. This much, she deserved, she really needed, and if God wouldn't give it to her, she'd find a way to get through it herself. If she could just read this damn book.

"Hi!" Claudia jumped as she heard the young man's voice, the owner sitting down on the park bench next to her. "Claudia right?... You're in my big sister book club." The man was young, at least 10 to 15 years younger than her. Fair skinned and fluffy haired, with big blue doe eyes. She smiled.

"I remember you, you made those delicious little pig 'n a pokes last month." The young man nodded and smiled.

"You seem frusturated. Can I help?" Claudia looked down at the book, uncertain if the young man could, It was written in English, but it was old and cryptic. But she showed him the faded messy writing.

"I'm trying to make out what this says..." The blue eyed teen leaned closer to the book, muttering silently as he scanned the page. Claudia tried to figure out an excuse for why she'd be looking at such a thing, but before she could, he sat up straight, eyes wide.

"Claudia..." She shook her head.

"It's not- I'm just..." The boy took her hands, looking into her eyes.

"Whatever it is you think you're going to get out of this- more time, a cure- Claudia, it's not worth what this will cost you..." Tears finally fell from her eyes as she shook her head.

"You don't understand, I have to. This isn't for me-"

"Then let them pay the price! Claudia, whoever you're doing this for, they are not worth your soul!-" She squeezed his hands.

"It's not like that... I'm not well. If I live long enough to give birth, it'll be a gift. Or it would be..." She sniffled. "The baby... He never moved, he was so weak, barely had a pulse... They said with how sick I've been he'd never make it, but I-I just kept praying, to any god I could, I just thought, he has to... if one good thing comes out of this, it has to be him... But his heart beat is gone... My baby is gone. I just... Can't accept that..." The young man's face crumbled into despair as Claudia explained. She felt bad for inflicting such a look, but he had to understand how very necessary this was. He bit his lip, and gave a sigh. "Please..." He nodded and looked to the book.

"Right, I'm just going to paraphrase, okay? Alright, 'hallowed ground ripe with death' that's grave yard dirt, 'bone of a beast born the color of the night' that a bone of a black animal, 'likeness of...' a picture of yourself, a lock of hair or another 'essence of thyself', and 'devil's nettle' which is another name for yarrow. It's a fairly common flower. You put it all in a container, take it to a crossroads, bury it in or near the intersection, and a demon will appear. You tell them, in detail, well thought out, what you want, they tell you how long you'll have, and then you decide if you want to go through with it, you seal the deal, and in 10 years time, or however long they give you, you'll have your soul torn from your body. If you don't... you just have to change your mind, and walk away..." She visible relaxed but sat for a moment before looking into the brunette's eyes.

"Thank you, Peter... You're such an angel." Peter gave a wide wolfish grin as he laughed. The young man was a vision of happiness, and it made Claudia smile in turn.

.~.

Crowley had had a long night. A long week. It was surprisingly hard to find a young weak vessel, that would both give a demon time to heal, and would benefit from possession. Morals were always such a poison in their business. But he owed Bermodeus at least this much. Azazel wouldn't allow such an opposition to him, and even those closest to Bermodeus wouldn't speak against their "father's" messager. Azazel had already launched an attack on the elder demon, and was now tearing hell apart to hunt him down. Bermodeus was, like Lilith, one of the first demons to ever have been made, but he was not a fighter. He was a provocateur, an inveigler. And Lilith had respected that, had even found it useful. And so she inlisted her right hand, her prodegy, her successor, to aid the fellow in his escape and hiding.

This was the closes he could come, the best he could find. A child- an infant- well developed, but recently dead, never given or developed a soul, as it wasn't meant to live. Sadly it was still in its mother, destined to be still-born. He'd worried about how he would introduce Bermodeus to the child, but remarkably the mother had come to them. Crowley arrived, well sized potion bottle containing the demon in tow, at the back woods crossroad of forest trails, right where he'd made a previous deal weeks before when he'd found the boy. It was important this deal never be recorded. "Already one buried there, love..." The woman jumped as she looked up to where he'd appeared in front of her. "Why don't you just tell us your woes and we'll see if we can't come to an agreement?" The woman trembled with fear and illness, and Crowley gave his most charming smile.

"I'm sick... the only light in my life is my husband, and our chance to have a baby boy of our own. But-" Crowley nodded.

"He's dead... Or more so, was never genuinely alive." The woman glared and Crowley raised his hands as if in surrender. "Just being straight forward."

"I want my baby to live... I want to sell my soul for him to live. That's all I want." She said forcefully. Crowley gave the softest chuckle.

"Even better, I'll make you an offer you can't refuse... You get your boy, and we'll give you 10 years... 10 health years." The woman looked at him as if he'd handed her a million dollars.

"Really?" She muttered in a whisper. "Why? Shouldn't it be one or the other?" Finally being intelligently cynical. Crowley liked her.

"Well, there is one little tiny side agreement. Your son- he doesn't have a soul, never did. So, there's nothing to retreive. There has to be something- someone- inside him. Now I do have such a transferable entity, very loveable, caring, a pleasure even if he is a pain. A perfect fit, who would love to help you and your significant have your happy normal family. All I need from you, is to never under threat or application of torture, to ever tell anyone of it... Demons, humans, or otherwise. Family or not." Crowley could see the woman knew well enough that Crowley wasn't telling the whole story, but she didn't ask.

"I'll accept under two conditions..." Crowley had assumed so he nodded for her to continue. "The first is you garuantee no harm befalls my family. Even after I die, my husband John, and my child, any other children we have... they have to be protected... I need them to be safe." Crowley gave a firm nod. It was a standard request. He'd arranged for the boy to be watched as it was. Bermodeus would protect the family well enough. He would be contacted immediately if anything was off. It was an easy accomadation.

"Done. The second?" The woman looked to the ground. This part was negotiable compared to the rest, he noted. Depending on what it was, he was likely to allow it to seal the deal.

"You said health years... could I-... Could I have more time if I... relapsed?" Crowley furrowed his brow.

"You want to die more painfully and slowly? Are you daft?" She laughed nervously, as if in a sigh.

"I just want more time with them... sickly and painful of not..." Crowley shook his head, not refusing just not understanding.

"You do now, but you don't know that you will in ten years..." The woman sighed and shook her head, looking up to smile at him, which almost caught him unawares.

"It's hard to explain... But I hope one day you have someone whose company makes you happier than anything else... Then... You'll know how I know I still will in ten years." Crowley shrugged, skeptical of such a fairytale answer.

"You don't even know the boy yet." She actually laughed.

"I can feel in my heart I'll love him too... I know that much..."