Okay, so we're splitting this episode into two chapters, because it would take me forever to update, otherwise. I'm not happy with this chapter, to be completely honest with you. It's not one of my best. But it's been a while since I've updated this story, so I wanted to give you a chapter, at least. I'm kind of having writer's block with my Supernatural stories... Expect slow updates... I'm sorry.

Hope: I'm glad you like it!

theRedzak: Well, I'm happy you like how it's written... Took me seventy years to get around to editing it, but I'm glad it's better now and that you like it :)

Ralissa's POV:

"I don't think you're listening to me. I am not asking for guesses, I want answers. Where the hell is my father?!" I shouted.

The demon in front of me took a step back, nearly shaking in her boots. "I don't know, Your Majesty. The last time anyone heard, he was somewhere in the Western Pacific."

I sat back, fuming. "Yes, you said that already. If you want to be helpful, stop telling me things that I already know—"

The door burst open and another demon ran in. "Your Majesty!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Jenkins, what is it?"

"Nicole's been summoned by the Winchesters! They're probably gonna kill her!"

I blinked. "Nicole the crossroads demon? Snooki? How do you even know tha—Damn it, Jenkins, how many times have I told you to stop following Nicole? It's weird. Winchesters… Hmm… I suppose they're probably looking for Daddy too." I rose from my chair. "Fine, I'll deal with them myself. Go away, both of you. You annoy me."

They both vanished. I snapped my fingers and vanished as well.

I appeared next to a Devil's Trap, which Nicole was standing in, along with both Winchester brothers. Sam had just begun the exorcism spell.

I pressed my thumb and forefinger together, taking away Sam's voice. "Mm-mm. I don't think so. I'm struggling with my kingdom as it is, I don't need you people exorcising all of my demons." I scratched a gap in the Devil's Trap with my heel. "Go away, Nicole." She promptly disappeared.

"Ralissa, what the hell?" Sam asked, once I gave him his voice back.

Dean gave him a look. "'Ralissa'? You're on a first-name basis now?"

I crossed my arms and smirked. "Oh, yes, Dean, Samantha and I go way back. But I didn't realize you two were speaking again."

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's complicated. Why are you here?"

"You're summoning crossroads demons, which means that either one of you is dead, or you need information. Now, since you're both standing in front of me, looking tall as ever, I'd guess you're looking for information. And I'd guess again that you're looking for my father, since he was looking for the First Blade. Am I warm?"

Sam blinked. "You're… spot-on, actually."

I smiled. "Thought so."

"Do you know where he is?" Dean asked.

"No. I've been shouting at scouts all day, because no one can find him. I've heard nothing in weeks. Abbadon is probably planning to make her move any day now, I don't have time to search for missing kings."

"Do you have a point?"

I rolled my eyes. "Must I spell everything out for you people? My point is that since we're both looking for the same person, we might as well work together."

Sam looked at Dean. "She has a point."

Dean pulled him aside. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

They walked away from me a ways, but I could still hear them. Heightened senses are a good thing, people.

"You do realize that's Crowley's daughter, right?" Dean hissed. "We can't trust her."

"I'm not saying that we can," Sam replied. "But she knows Crowley better than anyone. If anyone can help us find him, she probably can."

"Yeah, but—"

"Trust me. She can help."

They turned back around. I raised my eyebrows and smiled. "Go team."

Back at the Bunker, the fact that I can get through the warding certainly didn't make Dean trust me any more. Not that I care. He can have whatever suspicions he wants, but I don't have time to worry about being liked. I frowned at the laptop over Sam's shoulder, as Dean walked back into the room. Searching the Mariana Trench won't help, I'm sure of it. Father's somewhere off the radar.

"So… Cain said the First Blade was tossed in the deepest ocean, right?" Sam said. "That's the Mariana Trench. Maybe Crowley found it, and it's a double-cross."

I rolled my eyes. "If that was true, I wouldn't be here."

"Yeah, that doesn't make sense," Dean agreed. "He wants me to power it up and kill the ginger. He set it up."

I frowned. "Set what up?"

Dean looked at me. "He didn't tell you?"

"He's missing, you idiot. What don't I know about?"

Instead of responding, Dean rolled up his shirt sleeve and I saw the Mark of Cain branded into his skin.

I actually took a step back, eyes going wide. "That—that's the bloody Mark of Cain."

"Wow." Dean glanced at Sam. "She is a mini-Crowley."

I glared at the hunter. "Why do you have the Mark of Cain?"

"Because it was the only way to be able to use the blade."

"Are you telling me that you actually met Cain? Like, the real Cain?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised Crowley didn't tell you."

My glare intensified. "I repeat: he's missing."

"Maybe you should be wondering what else he's keeping from you."

"Okay. A-assuming he does show up with it, Crowley is only useful to us until we have the blade," Sam said, trying to turn us back to the task at hand.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "So?"

"So… There's nothing stopping us from using it on him, right?"

"Nothing at all."

I looked from one brother to the other, trying to wrap my brain around their idiocy. "Um, hello?! There is something standing in your way, and she's standing right over here."

"There's nothing stopping us from using it on you either," Dean snapped.

I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Bitch, please. You couldn't get within eight feet of me before you'd be dead."

Before he could reply, Dean's phone rang. "Speak of the devil." He answered it. "Did you find the first blade?"

"Not exactly," Crowley's voice replied.

"Well, then, what, exactly?"

"I'm in… a jam of sorts. Thought you might help."

What has he got himself into now?

When you're used to teleporting, a car ride is tedious at best, but we ended up at a hotel in Colorado. Colorado? Really? He was here the whole time? Doing what?

In any case, the Wonder Twins and I found Crowley's empty room easily enough. Oh, there's a dead body on the floor—Wait, make that two, and one of them is a demon… Why am I not surprised? Anyway, we waited there until the door finally opened and my father walked in with a paper bag in his hand. He didn't look good.

"Hello, Boys. Hello, Darling," Crowley said.

"Hello, Daddy," I replied flatly.

"And what do you call this?" Dean asked, gesturing to the dead human body.

"Refreshments?" Crowley replied.

Sam stood up. "What's in the bag, Crowley?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Maybe I can, uh…" Sam grabbed the bag and opened it, pulling out a bag of blood. "What, are you knocking over blood banks?"

I frowned, confused. What would he want blood for? The boys sat Crowley down in a chair and promptly handcuffed him to it.

"Look at you," Dean said. "You're a mess. You know, we were counting on you. You let us down."

"Not to mention the fact that you've been doing God knows what, whilst your kingdom falls to shambles," I added.

"Yeah, your slimy followers were counting on you to kill Abbadon, and you let them down," Sam agreed.

I looked at him. "Hey!"

"I didn't mean you," he replied quickly.

"You better not have. For your sake."

Dean shook his head. "The man with all the mojo—Captain Evil."

"Oh, that's pathetic," Sam added.

"What is this?" Crowley asked, holding up his handcuffed wrist. "An intervention?"

"You need to focus, Crowley," Sam told him. "Get a grip!"

"What, you just gonna let hell go to hell?" Dean demanded. "The kid can't do it on her own."

I'll get him for that.

"You don't know what it's like to be human!" Crowley yelled.

That surprised even me. What does he think he's talking about? I've been working my entire life to not be what it is to be human. What does he know about being human?

"It's your DNA," Crowley continued. "It's my addiction, my cross, my burden!"

"All right, take it easy," Dean said.

"I see the darkness of it now, the Anthony Weiner of it. It makes you needy." He glanced at the dead demon girl on the floor. "I needed her. Lola used me. She reported everything I did back to Abbadon."

"Crowley…" Sam spoke very slowly. "Did you tell her about the First Blade?"

"I don't know. Things get a trifle blurry when I'm medicated."

"Medi—Am I missing something? What the hell is he talking about?" I demanded.

Sam glanced at me. "You don't know?"

"Would I be asking about it, if I knew?"

Sam looked away from me and back at Crowley. "He's been injecting himself with human blood."

I froze, looking from Sam to Crowley. "What?"

Crowley avoided my gaze, eyes on the floor. I suppose I should've known… He'd never act like this otherwise… He'd never avoid my gaze like this either. I know I can't be this upset… I mean, not for the real reason why I'm this upset. You've been telling me to suppress every human part of me my entire life, and then you turn around and get addicted to demon blood because you wanted to feel the very emotions you've been forcing me to suppress?! The lights flickered. I forced myself to remain quiet. If I start, I won't be able to stop, and I'll probably reveal my secret. The angel already knows, these idiots don't need to as well.

Sam stood up and faced Dean. "If he told Lola, she definitely told Abaddon."

"Which means that Abaddon's on the hunt for this thing, too. All right, you know what? This crap ends now," Dean said, glancing down at Crowley. "You're cut off. Okay? Kicking it. Cold turkey."

Normally, I would've had a problem with the Wonder Twins locking Crowley back in their basement… But today? Right now? I was more than all for it. I didn't even care to be down there with Sam and Crowley. Instead, I trailed around the main floor of the Bunker, trying hard to not either punch something, or make it explode. My magic can be a bit unpredictable when I'm angry. When my mother died, I cause quite the little earthquake. Mother… She wasn't killed by a demon or anything, just boring old tuberculosis. If she'd lived, I never would've had to do this… Oh, this is useless. She's dead, and she's been dead for years, and there's nothing to be done about it. I am who I am. I'm Ralissa Evelyn North, heir to the throne of Hell… And I am not human.

So, we're now waiting in a park to meet with someone, who, apparently, won the First Blade in a Moroccan poker game… I don't know. I wasn't really paying attention when Sam told me. I glanced to my left and noticed my father stealing candy from a vending machine… Oh, for the love of God.

"What is Crowley doing?" Sam asked.

I sighed. "Stealing candy."

"He is—he's—he's stealing candy."

"…Yep."

"You know, at least when Cass was human, he was an okay guy," Dean said. "Should've known Crowley would be a douche version."

I laughed. "Tell me about it." I looked in Crowley's direction. "Father! Get a hold of yourself! Image, for God's sake. You're not a child."

Slowly, Crowley removed his arm from the vending machine and walked off to another bench.

"You really think this guy's gonna show up?" Dean asked. "I mean, this isn't exactly a place where million-dollar deals go down."

"Look, word is, this Andre Develin character bought the blade from the pirates, and he's been shopping it around. That's all I know," Sam replied.

"Hey, heads up."

I looked up as a man emerged from the shadows and approached us. Sam stood from the bench and joined Dean. I rose as well, standing slightly behind them.

"Mr. Develin, we spoke on the phone," Sam said.

Mr. Develin looked him up and down. "You said you represent a serious collector with an interest in a private transaction."

"Did he?" Dean asked. "Oh. Well, what he meant to say was, is that we are with…" He pulled out his badge. "…The FBI."

"Then good evening." He started to turn away.

"Wait a second," Sam insisted. "We just want some answers."

"Read Sartre. Jean-Paul Sartre. I'm merely a facilitator between the buyer and the seller—a conduit. So, unless I'm being detained—"

He was cut off by Crowley's red smoke flying into his mouth. Yeah, that works too. Mr. Develin's eyes turned red for a moment before the smoke flew back out and Crowley returned to his body.

Mr. Develin shook his head a little. "So, am I? Being detained?"

"Not at the…. Moment," Dean replied awkwardly. "No, but we've got our eyes on you."

When Mr. Develin was out of sight, the three of us turned to Crowley.

"National Institute of Antiquities," Crowley said, right on que.

Well, this should be fun…