BACK AT'CHA AGAIN WITH THOSE SICK CHAPTERS, THANKS TO A LOVELY REVIEWER! I was gonna just wait 'til I uploaded to HAWOM, but shucks, this is my only review since September, SO I WANNA DO IT NOW.
Note- I rewrote a bit of chapters 1-9 to make them a bit better because they were utter crap! Might be fun to reread, if you wanna.

KC: You are literally my favorite person in the world right now! Partially because you're the only confirmation I have FFN isn't broken and keeping people from reviewing, and partially because I was writing a make out scene when I saw your review and was just really questioning my life choices, BUT MOSTLY BECAUSE YOU'RE AWESOME SO THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH! But lol, babe, you don't know the half of it, shit's going down.

~!~

The boys had seemed to buy his excuse with enough ease. It wasn't that he didn't trust the boys. Bermodeus was always a civil sort and charming to a fault and not very ambitious for a Prince Of Hell, perhaps due to being the runt of the litter. And not to mention he was currently a pitiful defenseless relatable little teenaged boy. He couldn't guarantee the Winchesters would get on all well and dandy with him, but he was sure they wouldn't up and kill him immediately, and pretty sure they'd help protect him. He was pretty damn exceptional at getting people to fight for him. He apparently retained that gift, even not knowing who or what he was, an entire pack of werethings at his beck and call. But even if the Winchesters wouldn't hurt Bermodeus, even if they couldn't hurt him…. Crowley had taken his vow both to Bermodeus and to Lilith. His maker and his master. And if he went back on it without permission- Well… He knew Berm well enough to know he would see him dead for it. He took promises quite seriously. It still hurt to have to put his own little one in possible harms way, misleading the boys like that.

As he reached the downstairs bathroom, he knocked lightly on the ajar door, opening it despite the lack of reply, finding the young man bracing himself over the sink, staring into the mirror. After a second the boy looked over at him, with a dead eyed expression, devoid of familiarity.

"What?" He questioned. Crowley didn't know why he'd been somewhat hoping he'd… woken up. He supposed it was foolish of him.

"I-" Crowley began, but the boy cut him off to keep talking.

"No 'good morning' for dear old daddy?" A mischievous grin quickly crept onto Bermodeus' face, as he gave a deep laugh. "Oh, Crowley, baby boy, I'm back!" He squealed, feeling up and down the vessel he'd been in for years, as Crowley smiled in stunned silence. Suddenly, Berm seized Crowley's face in his hands, pulling him into the bathroom so they could speak freely. Or at least Crowley hoped that was why. "Did you miss me? I missed you. I missed everything. I can't believe I'm finally awake… Crowley, my darling, my dear, my favorite son, tell me never again, tell me it's finally over, that we're safe."

"Azazel's dead…" He confirmed after a moment, hesitantly nodding. "A bit over 10 years now I think. I would've woken you sooner, but there's been drama after drama in Hell and beyond, Sire. Didn't want to drag you into that before you were ready."

"Drama in hell?" Berm laughed, closely inspecting his face in the mirror. "Who's dead?" Crowley rolled his eyes.

"You wanna list?"

"Hmmm…" Berm moaned in displeasure. "Not right now, I suppose… More important things and all…"

"The angels…" Crowley confirmed with a nod. Suddenly he was choking half way up the wall, trying to keep himself from kicking at the tile behind him.

"No, dipshit." Berm scoffed stepping over to him. "As if I give two shits about angels. Jeez. Ooh!" Bermodeus suddenly paused his scolding to drag a finger down from Crowley's neck to his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt. "You got rid of the tie, I see, I love that. Anyway, no." Berm came closer, reaching up to take Crowley's chin in his fingers. Crowley wasn't sure whether or not he was about to be killed, as he didn't even know what Berm was so displeased about. "You- you precocious little idiot- brought the Mark Of Cain here? Really? What the fuck made you think that was a good idea, my little sugar dumpling?" Oh god. This wasn't good. Bermodeus was admittedly hard to read, even for Crowley. But he didn't seem happy, and Berm had never…. been a big fan of Cain. Crowley had no idea why. The two bickered, but got along well enough or at least so it seemed. The two never tried to kill or even seriously hurt each other. Their squabbles remained largely verbal, no matter how heated they'd get. At least from what Crowley had seen and heard. But still Cain was a much more rough and tumble (ie murdery) individual, and for someone who could most likely kill Berm and was never particularly vulnerable to his charms, well… Let's just say, Crowley assumed that wasn't an appreciated trait. Apparently Berm actually expected an answer though, as the vice grip on his vocal chords loosened.

"Sir," Crowley coughed, getting his voice back. "Dean's on our side here, he has the Mark well controlled, and I have him in our corner. He trusts me. He doesn't even have the blade. If we tell them the truth-... If I ask them, they'll stand with us. Dean's no threat, Sir." Berm stared up at him with those eyes that could probably literally see through his soul.

"He's your friend…" Berm said softly, with fake sympathy. "You're sentimental for them… I understand that, Crowley. You know I do. More than anybody…" Suddenly Crowley fell to the ground, grip on his throat gone, but Berm kept him on his feet. "But if he comes near me with so much as an angel blade… He's dead. Do you understand me? And you do not tell anyone… Not now, not yet. Not until I regain my strength. Are we clear?" Crowley nodded, getting his bearings on his feet again. "Good." Bern turned and went back to the mirror.

"What about your vessel's friends?"

"My friends, Crowley…" He answered pointedly. "And I intend to tell them, just… Not yet. I need time, sow some seeds of the possibility in their minds… If I just spring it on them, they might react hostilely."

"As you wish. And what are we going to do about the angel problem?" Berm just scoffed again.

"Like I said, I'm not terribly concerned. You know how I love a good war. If they want one, we'll tear any that want to bother into little itty bitty pieces. They might pack a troublesome sting, but we can crush any one of them with ease."

"And when they figure out they can send more than one, Sire?" Crowley asked, admittedly a bit sarcastic. Berm's reflection looked at him and smiled from the mirror, without even a twitch from Berm's actual form.

"Then we'll have some real fun…"