Marion showed up next to Crowley, and put an angel blade to his side. Dean turned to her and went black eyed. "Don't, Dean. I can't even deal with you right now."

"Come on, Marion, please. I'm still your brother. Just let Crowley go and we can talk about it."

"I have a separate issue to take up with him. You... you are Sam when he came back wrong. All the brain and personality, none of the soul to filter it through. I'll deal with you when that becomes a problem. Crowley, however, needs to speak with me now. It's important."

"More important than your twin becoming a demon? Dean, I have to take this. Don't wander."

Marion and Crowley both appeared outside the bar in the parking lot. Crowley turned to her, amused.

"What's important enough to pull me away from Dean when he so obviously needs-" Marion grabbed his hand and rested it on her lower abdomen, without a word. A shock ran through his palm and he pulled it back. "What in the seven Hells is that?!"

"Exactly what you think it is. Is this reason enough to pull you away from your new protege?"

"How is that even bloody possible?"

"Because God likes to fuck with us. He doesn't just make new creatures anymore, Crowley. Not since the dawn of time. He forces evolution or breeds things together. Nephilim. Demon and Angel hybrid."

"What are we gonna do?"

"There's nothing to do but what God intended. I hope you're not suggesting anything else."

"No, I mean..." Crowley sighed in exasperation. "Did you open the locket?"

Marion rolled her eyes. " Yes."

"And?"

"And what, Crowley? What do you expect is going to happen? You're the King of Hell and you're off the juice. There is no way you feel anything of substance for me. And I can't feel for you."

A moment of silence filled the air between them. "So, you tossed the gifts, then?"

"What?"

"You said you kept the gifts because you didn't know if they were sincere. Now you know they were, but that they came from me. You must've tossed em. Except that I can see the outline of that locket under your shirt."

"Fine. I didn't, but that means nothing. What do you want from me, Crowley?"

"The kid is mine, Marion. There should be no question of what I want."

"What, you want to have a hand in her raising? You want a say in her upbringing, her education? Teach her how to smoke out of one vessel into another? Please. You already managed to fuck up one kid and you did that as Fergus, the drunken tailor with the soul God gave you. I can only imagine what damage you would do as Crowley."

"I made up for that."

"Yes, I heard. Do you really think that keeping Gavin in the 21st century is going to make up for the abuse and neglect of his childhood? It's pathetic. Listen, Crowley, I only brought you out here to have this conversation because you needed to know about the baby in case something happens to me."

"Wow. You know, I don't know if I'm impressed or disgusted, sis." Dean's voice came from the door of the bar.

"Dean..."

"I mean, you are just fucking your way up the ladder, huh? First, Cas, then Lucifer and Michael, sweet Charlie just to get a taste of the other side and now the King of Hell, himself. Damn, I think I'm leaning toward impressed." Dean turned to Crowley. "My sister, dude? Really?"

The wording seemed familiar to Marion, but she couldn't pinpoint why.

Crowley shrugged. "She is an attractive piece, Dean."

"So, how 'bout we put an end to all this baby bullshit and find a nice long staircase to take care of this."

"That's enough, Winchester." Crowley said, moving defensively in front of Marion.

"Back off, Fergus. I can take care of myself."

"I'm not so sure about that, Mare. See you've got a lot of power coming off you. In waves, I'd say. But most of it is coming from that." Dean pointed to her stomach. "I don't think you could muster enough grace to turn my beer into malt liquor if you tried. What, did someone clip your wings?"

"Actually..." Marion flew to the left, nearer the edge of the parking lot. "My wings work fine."

"Well, look at that. You put her and Cas together, you got one whole angel. Sorry, you put her and Cas back together and you got a whole angel."

"You're going to make this a problem, aren't you, Dean?"

Dean smiled and gave a little chuckle. "Yeah. Probably."

"You know, there will come a day when you realize you still have a soul and you will want something better. You won't regret the things you've done, you won't have the capacity for it. But just like Cain and his majesty beside you, you'll realize something is missing and you'll remember that Dean Winchester was all about his family. And whether it's a hundred years or a thousand, your angel sister and your halfbreed niece or nephew are going to be the only ones you have left. Try not burn these bridges so thoroughly."

"Speaking of the family business, you know Charlie became a pretty passable hunter. A little awkward, but she was like a monster encyclopedia. When she gets back from Oz, I think I'll test her knowledge of demons."

"If you touch one hair on her pretty red head, I will smite you, Dean."

"You don't have the juice."

"Right now. God took it so I wouldn't get myself into fights that might hurt the baby. Do you think he'll leave me powerless once the baby is born and I'll need to protect it? Again, just so I know I'm clear, if you hurt Charlie or Sam or Castiel, anyone of the people I love, I will kill you. I'm not going to send you to Hell or stick you in the Devil's trap in the letters storeroom. I will bathe you in God's holy light and kill you."

"I don't think you have it in you."

"Cross that line where I'm sure you can't be redeemed and see how quickly I smite you."

"I got an angel blade, bitch. Bring it."

Marion scoffed dismissively. "You're boring me." She said, before disappearing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion found it difficult to eat. She felt hunger again, and there was a need to nourish the baby and a persistent craving for tomatoes and salt, but she was just enough of an angel still that she could not taste the food. An over-stimulating feel of every distinct taste distracted from any coherent flavor that might have existed.

As she sat in the bunker, picking at some chips and salsa Sam had brought her ('That's all we have for salty tomatoes') she listened to Dean shouting from the Men of Letters stacks. She took a sip of lemon and honey tea that tasted of pollen and acid and dried leaves, and she stood. It was a bad idea for her to be there.

This was a dangerous place. This was one broken set of manacles away from being a horror movie. Dean was the serial killer thought to be incapacitated, who is just waiting for the protagonists to check on them. Marion couldn't resist checking any more than Jamie Lee Curtis had.

"Are you comfortable?" She asked, standing just on the other side of the door frame.

"What do you think? I'm chained to a fucking chair. My brother is injecting me with acid every damn hour and you are just standing there. If you know what is good for you, you'll fly me out of here. Because when Sam's little plan fails, I'm going to kill all of you." Dean growled.

"Well, Dean. You don't seem to have your little angel blade anymore. And if you hurt our brother, you know that I'll kill you, so... I think you should stay in your chair."

"I'll start by eviscerating you, destroying that little gift Crowley gave you, then I'll take Sam while you're trying to fix your damage, and I'll flay him, limb by limb."

Marion nodded and walked away to Sam's room. "I can't stay."

"What? Why? I mean, I know, it's not working as well as we hoped, but... when I finish..."

"He's threatening the baby. God was specific about... the consequences if I let harm come to her. I'll keep an eye out for you. Pray if you need me, I'm still connected there, but... I can't."

Sam wrapped his sister in a hug. "I get it. God chose you for this crazy baby-making mission, that's really important. So... get out of here. I'll call you if I absolutely can't handle him."

"Good luck."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion laid down in a motel room in Kansas city, but she came to in a stone room with a cuff around her leg. An enochian warding on the cuff prevented her taking it off, or flying away. She started to pull at the chain, in hopes of getting it out of the wall.

"That won't work. It's in there pretty deep and it's made to hold angels."

Marion dropped the chain and turned to Crowley. "Of course, it's you. What's this all about?"

"Safety, of course. You don't have the strength to protect yourself, so I'm going to do it for you. While you are in my care, no harm will come to you or the baby. You'll be well taken care of."

"Are you kidding me? You kidnapped me to ensure this baby is kept safe? What kind of twisted, backward thinking..."

"I'm a demon, love. Twisted is what I deal in. You can be thankful and perhaps earn some house privileges, or you can keep up the attitude and be treated like a prisoner."

"If you think this will turn out to be some Stockholm-y, Beauty and the Beast bullshit, you better think again."

"I've had you. So has every other villain worth a damn. This is just about keeping my progeny safe."

"Oh, there he is. The asshole king of Hell. Guess the blood finally wore off. Tell me, if I told you to fuck off, like the first time we met, would that get you all hard like it did before?"

Crowley smirked and reached out to smooth Marion's hair. "I hope you like it here, Mare. You've got about 6 months to learn to love it." He said before disappearing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marion sat on the cot in the room Crowley had stuck her in. She was hungry. She didn't think Crowley knew that she'd have to eat. She wondered how long it would take for starvation to kill her. 21 days for a human but that wasn't factoring in the baby or her diminished grace. She wondered what God would do if she died. She decided not to risk it.

"I doubt you've been around very many pregnant women, Crowley, but babies need sustenance, even in the womb. Bring me food!" She shouted.

Her cell door opened and a bored-looking grey-beard walked forward. "Since when do angels eat?" He asked.

"If I were a normal angel, I wouldn't be here, would I? A normal angel would have had an angel blade stuck in her heart. I'm special, Jeeves. Now, get me a turkey sandwich. Thick slices of tomato and sprinkle that bitch with salt."

"We don't have salt." He said, disgust lacing through his words.

"Well, then pop down to the store and get some. I prefer kosher but sea salt will work. Go on."

The demon looked her up and down.

"Trying to figure out what makes me so special? Why the king would have told you to do what I want?" The demon didn't answer. "You know how Crowley has a hard on for the Winchesters?" Still no response came. "Nice to meet you. I'm Marion Winchester. Now, get me a damn sandwich."

The demon blew air through his nostrils forcefully, then stepped out of the room. He was back an hour later with a turkey sandwich on Jewish rye, tomatoes cut thick and sprinkled with salt. She smiled as her hunger satiated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion spent several weeks bossing around the bearded demon, but she hadn't seen Crowley in almost 3 weeks when her door opened and he rushed in. He immediately sat on her cot as the door slammed behind him.

"All false bravado aside, I need your help." His voice was hushed, but worried.

"All faux disgust aside, what's wrong?" She said, sitting next to him. The words came easily, but as she said them, she realized she hadn't even admitted to herself that her disgust was an act.

If Crowley had heard the implications, he didn't show it. "My mum is here."

"Your mom? As in, the witch who birthed you? Wouldn't she be almost 400?"

"I wasn't lying when I said she's a witch. Immortality spell. The point is she's alive and here and I have no clue what to do about it."

"What happened?"

"Got wind of a witch putting down demons. She'd taken a pair of our girls and was taking them under her wing as witches and, bonus, she was havin' a tiff with yer brothers and I got to her first. Had my men bring her here. She's chained to a wall in the sub-basement. She looks just like I remember her." He whispered in an amazed voice.

Marion turned flush with Crowley. "I understand how problematic this can be for you, Crowley. You're already teetering on the edge of the humanity you gave up and you have people, your people, questioning you. I'm sure having me around isn't helping. Your little bromance with Dean was bad enough but this? But you have to wonder, what does she matter? That woman abandoned you. They put you in a work home because of her. She is the reason you became a self loathing drunk and she's the reason you sold your soul for just a little bit of confidence. She is the reason Gavin hated you. It all stems from her selfish choice to leave you behind. She's no more a mother than I am an angel. Sure, it's true by definition but not in practice."

Crowley smiled, a look of relief wafting over his face. "You are absolutely right." He said, standing.

"You aren't going to kill her though. Not yet." She said, looking up at him.

"Why not?"

"Because you're curious. You want to know how she'll act once she's figured out how powerful you've become." Marion stood. "I can help you."

"And how's that?"

"I'm ready to earn my house privileges. Look, we both know that woman doesn't have a maternal bone in her body. We both know she'll act like she does if she thinks you can help her. We also know she likes to take powerful, vulnerable women under her wing. I can help you keep an eye on her."

"Are you ready to play nice at court? You won't try to leave?" Crowley said, raising an eyebrow.

"Crowley... I may not have liked the method, but... I appreciate that I can't keep this child safe, can't keep myself out of trouble, without your help. And..." Marion looked down, suddenly finding her fingernails interesting. "I know that, sometimes the people we have to be conflict with the things that we want. But... God sent me to you, so maybe it's okay that I still wear the locket. Maybe it's okay that you brought me here to keep me safe as much as to keep her safe. Maybe we can ignore who we are every once in a while."

She closed her eyes. "I promise, if you let me out, and keep your demons quiet about who and what I am, I will keep an eye on your mother and I won't leave. I don't want to. If escape was on my mind, I'd have hit up Castiel on angel radio weeks ago. Please."

"All right. I'll make an announcement. No one calls you Winchester and no one says you're an angel."

"Okay. One more thing. Can you get a message to Castiel for me? Tell him that I'm with you, willingly, and that I will not be answering Hannah's call to come home or his call for assistance with Dean. If you'd please remind Castiel that I am technically an archangel and that means I am actually their superior and I don't have to listen to either of them."

"Gladly. I'll have my men bring you to court."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marion stood, quietly, off to the side. Crowley sat on his throne as a crowd formed around him. "You may or may not be aware that a ginger witch was brought in several weeks ago. She's been in the subbasement. She is my mother, the woman who gave birth to me when I was human. She helped me locate a traitor in my organization and so, I am letting her out. Treat her like the queen mother, don't give attitude because no one wants to hear her whine. Also, I've let Marion out. She's going to be quiet and respectful to everyone and in return, you're going to ignore her. You won't refer to her in any descriptive way. Understand?"

There was a murmur of agreement through the room, before Crowley nodded at the grey beard, who opened the door. A redhead walked forward, attempting to show grace and humility, but in Marion's eyes, she was Smaug taking the mountain. Graceful, but deadly and on a mission. Any minute she was going to start breathing fire on the king.

Rowena gave a small curtsy as she stopped in front of her son's throne. "This is yore throne? It's a wee bit drab, donae think, Fergus?"

~Well, less Smaug, more Spyro.~

"It's Crowley, mother. And what did you expect? It's Hell. We don't collect on Martha Stewart for another 3 years. Deal with it."

"I'm just trying to help you. I think it could do with a splash of colour. Maybe our tartan on the wall behind yew."

"Neither of us know who my father was, so that would be a bit difficult. Now, step aside." Crowley said, waving his hand dismissively. Rowena smiled slightly and walked to the right, stopping along the wall several feet away from Marion. Rowena looked over at her, and Marion dipped her head the way Mister had taught her to do whenever someone looked at her too closely. The red head slid down the wall and turned to her.

"What are yew doin' here, lass?"

"I made a deal. It didn't go how I planned." Marion whispered.

"They never do, do they?" Rowena said staring at Marion's belly. "A woman with child, in Hell. Sad. What was yore deal?"

"I just wanted to be able to take care of her. Her father was a bastard. He... didn't ask for her."

"And you sold yore soul fer her?"

"No. My service. Once she's born, I have 10 years of servitude to the King. During which time, my daughter will be kept safe."

"Well, what if I could help you keep her safe? I could raise her. I've got experience, and I could teach her to be a strong young lass. Always wanted a girl."

Marion's stomach lurched at the thought. "That wouldn't nullify my deal. The King has found someone to take care of her." She lied.

"Well, if you change your mind, I'm here. Rowena." She said, taking Marion's hand.

"Bobbi."

"And do you have a name for the wee one, yet? You know, there is power in a name. Naming her now might solidify your bond enough for her to easily come back to you when your deal is done."

"Celeste. She's going to be called Celeste."

"That's beautiful. How long do you have, dear? Maybe I can help you. Maybe I could teach you a bit of witchcraft."

"I'd like that." Marion said, before looking over at Crowley's throne. Hazel-green eyes locked with hazel-red eyes from the throne. A chill ran through her. 'He needs to pay attention at court or there will be problems.' Marion thought, breaking the gaze and putting her hands protectively over her stomach.

Crowley opened the large wooden door to the room he'd placed Marion in after moving her from the cell in the basement, and snuck in. He looked around at her furniture. She didn't need a bed or a dresser or a vanity or any of the furniture, but they needed to keep up the appearance that she was a human.

Marion smiled at him from her bed. "You gotta stop staring at me in the throne room, Crowley. Rowena might catch on. Your demons might catch on. It's better they don't."

"I know, but..." Crowley crossed the room to sit next to her on her queen bed. "...you are captivating. I get so bored with all the running Hell nonsense and I just want to... touch you." He said, turning to her and running his hand down her back.

"You asked for the job, Crowley. You fought for the honor of running that nonsense. So, maybe I should stay out of the throne room. If I'm just going to be a distraction."

"Don't you dare. I'm in charge down here, darling, and I want to be able to see you. Right now..." He started, the fingers of his left hand sliding down the buttons of her plaid shirt, popping them open slowly, one at a time. "I want to see all of you."

Marion smiled over at him. "What if someone walks in?"

"I'm the King. I can have what I want. Can't I?" He said, pulling her over shirt down her arms.

"And you want me, Your Highness?"

"Since the moment I met you." He said, brushing his fingers against the locket, making it sweep across her clavicle.

"Crowley... you know, I think..." She started, but Crowley cut her off with a kiss.

"Don't think, love. We don't need to think. We can let ourselves stop being who we have to be for now. Just... kiss me." Crowley said, pressing his lips against hers.

She reached up and caressed his cheek. "Can we just... lay here and... hold each other?"

Crowley smiled, sweetly, and wrapped his arms around her, before leaning back and letting her lay her head on his chest. She felt his chest rumble with a growl as a knock came to her door. "What?!" He shouted.

"I'm sorry, sire, but we have a situation with your mother. May I have a bit of your time, highness?" Came through the door.

Marion sat up. "Go be king. Deal with the witch." She whispered.

Crowley shook his head, then disappeared.

A knock came to Marion's door an hour later. "You are summoned to the queen mother's room."

"Me?" She asked, opening the door and looking up at Guthrie.

"I can only assume. She said, 'the pregnant lass, Bobbi'. You're the only pregnant one I know of."

Marion smiled, embarrassed. "I gave her my alias. I'm keeping an eye on her for the King. Can't let her know who I really am."

Guthrie nodded and closed her door behind her. "And why would you do that?"

"I think the term Crowley used was 'earning my house privileges'. I couldn't stand being in that cell any more. Reminded me too much of the basement I spent my first 20 years in." 'Fake it 'til you make it, Mare.' She told herself.

The demon didn't say another word as they walked down the halls. As soon as Rowena saw her, she rushed over. "It took poor Guthrie a while ta get yew down here. I thought, maybe, sumthin had happened."

"No, just takes a bit longer than normal to get places. The baby belly, you know, and the ankles."

The redhead nodded, then shut her door to Guthrie's prying eyes. She grabbed Marion's hand and pulled her to a table strewn with spell components. "What... what's all this?"

"This is going to be a hex bag."

"A... hex bag? Who are you hexing?" Marion pretended she didn't have a clue.

"My no-good son. Of course, I'm not doin' it ta harm 'im. 'Hex' really isn't the best word for it. See, what we are gonae dew is make him see the demons he surrounds himself with fer what they truly are: untrustworthy, scheming, bastards, who will stab him in the back the moment they have the chance."

"You can get all that out of these tiny pieces of... bones?"

"Well, yes, those are bones, and yes, I can get all that out of these wee ingredients. It's a spell that preys on the unconscious mind, it doesn't take much."

"Do demons sleep?"

"Aye. Not much, but yes. Knowing Fergus, he'll probably doze off durin' work, so we'll put it under his pathetic excuse fer a throne."

'Who, what, where? Check, check and check', Marion thought, fumbling with a brown leather strip.