Rowena could feel her heart racing in her chest as she watched her son entering through the door. Far behind him, she realized that it felt so wrong. Her baby was entering a room with a maniac and she wasn't right there protecting him. It was awful. A part of her wanted to go and run ahead of him, but another part, the more dominant part, was too frightened to. Going in and seeing Angus again was utterly terrifying. She found herself praying for courage as she made her way toward the threshold. And despite the Winchesters, Castiel, and her son all being there, she felt exposed, like a naked infant left out to brave the elements. She had to stop when she was about to cross into the room. Panic was making it's way through her chest. But she couldn't leave her baby in there alone, so she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and went inside.
The first thing she thought upon entry was that the lighting in the room was very dim. There were torches lighting the room instead of electricity. She thought she could recall Fergus telling her during one of their meetings that it was about providing the right kind of atmosphere. She followed the string of torches to the back wall, where Angus hung. And this time the chains looked brand new and were set firmly in the wall. He looked beaten and bloodied, but still strong enough to break her if he so chose. She tried to swallow her panic, but only moved it down into her stomach. He grinned upon seeing her, and his face grew contrite.
"Come on, baby. You know I didn't mean it. You know how I get when I'm upset. I didn't mean to hurt you. I love you. You know I do."
She'd heard the words so many times before. They were a script to a movie she'd seen far too many times. She turned her back from him. She could not let his empty promises worm their way into her heart. She would not become his victim again. Since she had begun her relationship with her son, and had grown to love him and had cared for him, she had begun to realize what love truly was. And this… this wasn't love. This was control. This was power. This was psychopathy.
Upon realizing this, she turned around, and was surprised to find that there were tears welling up in her eyes.
"No." She whispered. "This isn't love. It was never love. You've never loved anyone but yourself. You don't love me. You want to control me. I've seen and felt what real love is. And this… this isn't love."
"Rowena, I'm sorry." He said. "What do you want me to say? I was selfish. I was wrong. But it's not my fault that you provoked me."
Her ego, once such a fluid thing when it came to Angus, became a solid mass on this point. She would yield to him no more. The steel and anger in her rose up in a sudden burst of unadulterated fury.
"You think all this is my fault?" She asked loudly, startling the three men in the room with her sudden outburst. Crowley looked over at his mother and was shocked to see the rage on her face and in her voice. Even Angus looked surprised. Awe crossed his expression for a moment or two, but he quickly buried it in his superiority complex.
"It always has been. It always will be." He said, resolutely.
The anger rose, peaked until it surpassed anything she had ever felt. She let out a shriek of complete and utter rage that that made them all jump. She bayed at the ceiling, eyes unfocused as she made her hands into claws. The volcano of rage, capped for hundreds of years, spewed forth in a sudden burst. Suddenly she was beating him with her fists, clawing at him with her nails, and digging her fingers in him until he was bleeding.
"I HATE YOU! YOU DISGUSTING, UGLY, DRUNK SON OF A BITCH! YOU BEAT ME, YOU RAPED ME, YOU TORTURED ME, AND YOU MADE ME BELIEVE IT WAS ALWAYS MY FAULT! AND YOU THINK YOU CAN ERASE ALL OF THAT WITH A FEW PRETTY WORDS?! BECAUSE OF YOU I MISTREATED THE ONE PERSON WHO LOVED ME UNCONDITIONALLY. BECAUSE OF YOU I LOST THE CHANCE TO BE A MOTHER TO MY BOY! BECAUSE OF YOU I CAN'T TRUST ANYONE BECAUSE I'M TERRIFIED THEY'LL DO WHAT YOU DID! I SPENT ALMOST THREE HUNDRED YEARS ON THE RUN BECAUSE OF YOU, AND YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO TELL ME IT WAS MY FAULT?! YOU'RE A PSYCHOPATH WHO WILL NEVER KNOW HOW TO LOVE ANYBODY BUT HIMSELF! YOU LIED, CHEATED, AND MANIPULATED ME TO GET YOUR WAY. WELL I HAVE SOME BAD NEWS FOR YOU, BUSTER. YOU WILL NEVER GET ME UNDER YOUR SPELL AGAIN! AND IF YOU DARE COME ANYWHERE NEAR ME OR MY SON AGAIN I'LL SLIT YOUR FUCKING THROAT!"
She was out of breath by the end of the rant, but felt a powerful sense of relief grip her after the words kept inside her for hundreds of years were released at last. Behind her, the four men were rendered speechless and motionless by her words. Dean looked vaguely pleased at her words, despite the level of animosity that existed between them. Sam was startled, but glad in a way that she had taken this opportunity to heal. And Castiel was staring at her with an expression of happiness. He had felt the fear rolling off of her when she had entered the room. To see her stand up for herself was heartening.
And Crowley. Crowley couldn't help the smile growing on his face. Against the odds, his mummy had faced her abuser, expressed her anger, and took a stand. Although his mother was overwhelmed at the moment, there was one thing he was absolutely sure of: He had never been more proud to be her son.