"The next time I see Crowley, I'm going to kill him!"

"Yeah, if Lucifer doesn't kill him first," Dean interjected. "Sam, I don't think he knew the colt wouldn't work."

"Of course he knew, why else would he give it to us? This is the first time what he did makes any sense. We should have known better. No demon would want us to kill the devil."

"I don't know… Lucifer seemed pretty surprised about us having it."

That night he told Sam that he just needed to get away for a bit, claiming that he was going to a bar. Instead he went to a nice hotel, collapsing on the bed with some expensive brand of beer. He was beginning to wonder what would happen to him if Crowley was killed. Would he just be free? Or would the deal reverse so that Sam would start craving demon blood again? More than ever, he wished he had a way to get ahold of him.

There was a sudden thud and he looked up in surprise to see Crowley on his hands and knees in the middle of the room. "Crowley!" Dean rushed to his side. The demon's clothing was ripped and stained with blood, and he had a particularly bad gash on his neck. "What happened to you?"

"What do you think?" he gasped.

Dean reached down and tried to gently help him to his feet. "Come on, let's get you to the bed."

It took a little bit, but Dean managed to lay Crowley down on the bed and get a proper look at his injuries. It looked worse than it was, but that didn't mean that it wasn't still pretty bad.

"Careful, darling," Crowley spoke in strained voice. "I might start to think you care."

"Shut up," Dean said, almost like an automatic reflex. It certainly had no effect on the worry in his eyes.

"Don't worry, demons heal quickly."

"I don't suppose there's anything that can be done to speed the process along?"

"Really, Dean? You know how to deal with injuries better than most."

"I'm just making sure that there's no special ointment for demons or anything like that."

"Do you hear yourself when you speak?"

"Do you want me to help you or not?" Dean challenged.

Crowley stopped talking, so Dean got his first aid kit and started patching Crowley up. "Never thought I'd do this to a demon," he commented as he worked.

"I bet you've done a lot of things with me you never thought you'd do with a demon."

"True." He was silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Why did you never tell me?"

"Who I was? That I had the colt? I wanted you to figure it out for yourself. Prove that the man lives up to the legend."

"Yeah, because that worked out so well."

"There should really be a disclaimer on that gun."

"Tell me about it."

Crowley was silent for a few seconds before he spoke up again. "Which of you pulled the trigger?"

"I did."

Crowley nodded, seemingly far away in his thoughts. "I'm glad you're alright," he eventually said.

Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he changed the subject. "Sam thinks you set us up. He wants you dead."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"All done," Dean said as he put the materials he'd been using down on the bedside table.

"Thank you, Dean," Crowley said softly, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

Dean looked down at him, and before he thought about what he was doing, he leaned down and pressed his lips to his softly. Of course, he had kissed Crowley quite a few times since they had sealed their deal, but he had never been the one to initiate it. He felt Crowley go still in surprise for a moment before he returned the kiss.

Dean pulled away after a minute, realization of what he had just done sinking in. Crowley was most definitely going to use that against him.

"As much as I would love to continue," Crowley spoke up. "We should probably wait until I'm healed up a bit."

"Right," Dean muttered, looking away.

Crowley chuckled. "There's no need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. You were bound to give in eventually."

"I'm not giving into anything," he protested.

"Of course not."

Dean stood from the chair he had been sitting in. "I'm going to get another beer. Want anything?"

"Scotch."

Dean nodded as he walked out of the room, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He returned a minute later, setting the scotch down beside Crowley before walking around and reclaiming his seat on the other side of the bed.

"Dean?"

"Hm?" Dean hummed as he took a drink.

"Did you come here hoping I would find you?"

Dean blushed. "I just wanted to know if you were still alive. Figured this was the only way I might find out."

"You could always ask for my number, if you would like."

He hesitated, not wanting to admit how often he had wished he had it. "It might make things easier…."

"Well then, my number is now in your phone. Feel free to call whenever you desire my company."

"That's never."

"I think we both know that's a lie." He turned to the side and pressed his lips against Dean's neck. "I do wish you would be honest," he breathed in his ear. "Both with me and with yourself."

Dean didn't say anything. A part of him knew that Crowley was right, but it cost him too much to admit it. So instead he just tilted his head to the side, moaning softly when Crowley bit down on his neck.

Crowley sighed as he pulled away. "One day, perhaps."

Doubtful, Dean thought to himself.

"At least I know I can count on you. We will find a way to stop the devil, Dean, and it will require all of us."

"That's the real reason you made this deal, isn't it?"

"I'm glad you can put two and two together."

"Yeah, well, I don't know if you noticed, but our one hope didn't exactly pan out."

"Everything has a weakness – Satan included – and we will find it."

"Nice thought," Dean sighed. "But it's really just a matter of time till the end of the world."

"I refuse to believe that. I don't do being on the losing side." Crowley's tone seemed to suggest that that was reason enough not to question their likelihood of success. And sure, Dean would admit that determination can go a long way, but it can't work miracles.

"We're not much of a side. There's, what? Five of us? Yeah, that should be enough to stop the devil and all the demons loyal to him. Oh, and that's without taking into account that I'm the only one that actually counts you as an ally."

"Yes, you are going to have to keep your brother from killing me the next time we work together."

"There isn't going to be a next time! There is no more hope." Dean didn't think he could afford to hope anymore; he was sick of disappointment. No, it was time to be realistic about this – the world was going to end, and there was nothing that they could do to stop it.

"You're wrong."

"What's this big, master plan of yours, then?"

"You are. You and your brother will fight for this world till your last breath. You don't see it now, but you'll figure something out, and when you do, I'll be there."

"I think your pain is making you delusional."

"Then maybe you should shut up and let me rest," Crowley snapped, clearly tired of arguing. His words spurred another thought in Dean's mind, though, and he decided that now was as good of a time as any to ask.

"Okay, that's something I've been wondering about. You've slept many of the times we've been together, but I didn't think demons needed to sleep."

"We don't, but we can. It's nice on occasion, to get a break from the world – especially when injured," he added pointedly.

"A break," Dean scoffed. "I'll take it you don't dream, then."

"Nope."

"Lucky you," he sighed.

Crowley looked over at him curiously. "What do you dream about, Dean?"

"None of your business," he snapped, suddenly no longer feeling like talking.

"Everything concerning you is my business."

"Not this."

"Hmmm… I'm sure I could guess."

It was a minute before Dean said anything. "Probably," he finally muttered.

"It will be different next time," he spoke softly. "I won't let anyone lay a hand on you."

Dean didn't want to admit how grateful he was, so he remained silent as he let Crowley snake an arm around his waist and pull him to his side. He curled into the demon's side and let his eyes drift shut. Crowley's embrace had become familiar, comfortable, and he would never admit it, but for the first time since he had come back from Hell, he had no nightmares that night.

Crowley was significantly better the next morning, almost completely recovered, and ready to take advantage of that. As soon as Dean woke up, Crowley was on top of him, kissing and biting at every bit of exposed skin he could find. And, having been craving this for far too long, Dean couldn't even bring himself to seem reluctant, gripping Crowley tightly and moaning his name as he came.

Crowley breathed in a deep breath as his lips ghosted along Dean's neck. "You should have told me why you wanted to know my name so badly. I might have told you, had I known."

Dean glared at the ceiling, angry with himself for the slip. "I was just trying to do what you wanted," he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, Dean, you are always so good at doing what I want, but I don't think that's what that was."

"Well, you're wrong."

"Whatever makes you feel better." He kissed him briefly before getting out of bed. "I'm going to go into hiding. Call me once you have a plan for ending the devil once and for all."

"That's not going to happen," Dean sighed, but Crowley was already gone.

And sure enough, the bastard was right. A month later, Dean was calling him to tell him about the horsemen's rings.

"I told you you could do it," Crowley said smugly.

"Yeah, well, we still need two more rings," Dean pointed out.

"Sounds like you'll need my help."

"You know how to get them?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"You'll need an excuse as to how you know about this."

"Already have one. I'll meet you and Samantha tomorrow. Think you can wait till then?"

No. It had taken all of Dean's self-respect not to call Crowley before now, to ask him to come and meet him at a hotel. How was he so hung up over a demon? "Why wouldn't I be able to?"

"Because the need in your voice is practically tangible."

"You think too highly of yourself."

"Doesn't mean it's not true. I promise, tomorrow I will fuck you into the mattress of the first hotel we come to."

Dean bit his lip, already feeling arousal stirring inside him. "I figured as much," he said, trying to control his voice.

Crowley chuckled. "See you tomorrow, darling."