It was funny how the knowledge of someone's real identity could make sex with them so different. For one thing, there was a weight in Dean's stomach that hadn't been there in the past, but mostly it was just difficult to stop himself from calling out the name Roderick. He had to repeatedly remind himself that this was Crowley, a demon, and he certainly wasn't calling out a demon's name, and so the weight in his stomach kept getting worse.
Crowley sighed as he rolled off of him, pressing his lips to Dean's neck. "I've missed this," he murmured.
Dean pulled away, pushing himself up without looking at the demon. "We need to get going."
There was a second's hesitation before Crowley responded. "You're right," he said reluctantly. He got out of bed as well, reaching for his clothes.
"And Crowley," Dean glanced back at him as he pulled on his pants. "Just to be clear, this never happened."
Crowley blinked, the words taking a second to sink in. "Excuse me?"
"Nothing has changed. You're still a demon, I still hate you, and once we no longer need you, I will be more than happy to kill you." He still wasn't entirely sure why he had decided to sleep with him again in the first place. Maybe it was to get it out of his system, or to give Crowley a taste of being toyed with, or maybe he just hadn't made up his mind yet. It didn't matter, though; he was now sure of himself, and nothing could change that.
Hurt flashed across Crowley's face for just a moment before his expression turned cold. "You know, Dean…" He snapped his fingers and was once again dressed. "It's normally more polite to say those kinds of things before sex – just so that your partner doesn't get the wrong idea. Not that it matters to me one way or the other, so long as it never does happen again. So let's move it along, we still need to discuss the plan – I've made some changes from the original, which I think will make it go a lot smoother."
As it turned out, the changes weren't so much to make it go smoother, but rather to get some revenge on Dean. Crowley eventually stopped the demon, but not before he had given Dean quite the beating.
"Bastard," Dean muttered as they loaded the unconscious demon into the back of the car.
"I am astounded by your comebacks, truly."
"We were down there for ten minutes! You really expect me to believe you couldn't have stopped him sooner?"
"Oh, of course I could have," Crowley chuckled as he climbed into the back seat. "But that would have meant missing out on the show."
Dean shook his head as he started up the car. "Wow, I didn't know demons were so temperamental when it came to breakups."
"Not at all, darling; I just don't like being used and thought that you needed to be taught a lesson."
"You need a… lesson."
Crowley rolled his eyes. "Just drive, Dean."
Dean didn't want to admit it, but he honestly wasn't sure if they would have been able to get Pestilence's location if it weren't for Crowley. Of course, if he were asked, he would immediately say that he and Sam would have been able to get the information from the demon, but whether that was the truth was doubtful, largely because the demon was Sam's friend from college and Sam had a hard time staying level-headed around him. Not that Dean blamed him; finding out that someone close to you was a demon could do that to you. The difference was, Sam killed Brady, while Dean let Crowley walk away. He wasn't sure why he did it – maybe because he knew that they might still need him, but he knew deep down that that wasn't the only reason.
Still, he never wanted to see the demon again. And once again, he saw him far too soon. The very next day he appeared in Bobby's house, after apparently having talked the elder hunter into selling his soul for Death's location. In that moment, Dean truly felt angry enough to kill Crowley despite everything. Of course, then the demon had to go and prove his usefulness yet again by finding out about the Croatoan virus that Pestilence had ready to distribute to all of America in the form of a flu vaccination.
"How are we supposed to kill Death and stop the Croatoan virus?" Sam asked of no one in particular.
"By splitting up, obviously," Crowley said with a shrug.
"That's spreading us a little thin, don't you think?" Dean questioned without looking at the demon.
"Is there another option? Assuming you don't want the world to turn into the Walking Dead, that is."
Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. Why did the bastard have to be right about everything? "So how do you suggest we do this? Two take Death, three take the Croatoan?"
"Sounds fair."
"Why is he making the calls?" Sam demanded.
"Because I'm clearly the only one smart enough. Look, I've got Death's location. One of you boys come with me, and the other team up with feathers and wheels to stop the virus."
Dean made eye-contact with his brother, not wanting to go off with Crowley again, but even more so not wanting Sam to. "I'll take Death," he muttered.
"You sure?"
He hesitated just a second before nodding firmly. "Yeah. How hard can it be?"
"Well, then." Crowley clapped his hands together, though there was irritation in his eyes. "I'll let you tell the others the plan and meet you at dusk." He vanished before anything more could be said.
"You really trust him?" Sam asked, concern coloring his voice.
"No," Dean answered honestly. "But we need him. And we all want the same thing here."
"I hope so."
"If he wanted us out of the way, he would have done it by now. What he's doing makes no sense unless he really does want Lucifer out of the picture." Of that he was certain, at least.
"Letting a demon have free reign like this, though…"
"He doesn't. He's on a leash and I have no problem choking him with it."
"You sure?"
"Positive. I won't let him pull anything over on me." Not again. "But enough of this. This is the best plan we're going to get. Let's tell Bobby and Cas."
Surprisingly, the two of them agreed to it with little debate, and so a few hours later found Dean in the Impala alone with Crowley, yet again. His mind was back at Bobby's, though, recalling the exchange before they had parted ways.
"You just going to sit there?" Crowley had asked Bobby. And then Bobby had gotten to his feet as though he had never lost the use of his legs. Crowley explained it away by saying he had added it into Bobby's contract because he had wasted the deal, but Bobby hadn't asked for that, Crowley hadn't had to do it.
"Why did you do it?" he asked after about twenty minutes of silence.
Crowley turned away from the window with raised eyebrows. "Unless you're talking to yourself, you're going to have to be a little more specific."
"Bobby."
"Someone should really teach you complete sentences. Why did I give him his legs back? Because he's a lot more useful this way. How much use do you think he would be back there if he were still stuck in his wheelchair? I did us all a favor."
"But why do you even care about the Croatoan virus? It's not like it really has any bearing on if we stop Lucifer."
"I think it would be a bit more difficult for us if we had to fight zombies everywhere we went. Really, did you ever even go to school?" he snapped.
Dean glared at the road. "I just figured you would like a demonic virus."
"You thought wrong. It's messy and in poor taste. And I would like for the world to keep spinning for a little bit longer, something that will be hard once the virus has turned every living being into mindless killers."
Dean shook his head slightly. "You have got to be the weirdest demon there is."
"I am the smartest demon there is."
Dean snorted. "Right. So why aren't you in charge of things, then?"
"Maybe I will be someday."
"Assuming I don't kill you first."
"Don't make empty threats, Dean. It's a bad look for you."
"Who says they're empty?"
"Your eyes."
"You don't know my eyes very well then, because this threat ain't empty."
Crowley regarded him thoughtfully for a moment. "Dean, I can think of three reasons off the top of my head as to why you won't kill me. Would you like to hear them?"
"Oh yeah, I'd love to. This'll be good."
"One, you wouldn't have been able to get this far without me, you owe me. Two, if you were going to kill me, it would have been in a fit of rage once you found out I'm a demon. And three, you're still confused about your feelings for me."
"All of that is bullshit. We don't need your help, I can control my anger better than that, and the only feeling I have towards you is hatred."
"Does it help? Saying it out loud?"
"You know what, Crowley? How about you shut up before I shut you up?"
He shrugged. "Fine. I was content to sit in silence. You're the one who started talking. And the one who volunteered to come with me, mind you."
"Yeah, and that was definitely not because I want to be around you. I just didn't want you saying anything to Sam."
"I wasn't going to."
"And I don't trust you."
"Clearly. You're so determined not to trust me that you can't see what's right in front of you."
"What was that you said earlier about sitting in silence? Because I think that's the best thing you've ever said."
Crowley glared at Dean through narrowed eyes for a moment before returning his focus to the side window, not saying another word until they reached Chicago. Unfortunately, that left Dean nothing to do but think. At least when the demon was talking, he was generally pissing him off – now Dean was having a hard time controlling the thoughts that entered his mind. Death, he was going to kill Death, he started repeating the words to himself, occupying his mind with the mantra.
Except he didn't end up having to kill Death. The horseman handed his ring over willingly, showed him how to work it, and agreed to leave the city unharmed, all in exchange for Dean making the worst promise he could imagine. He had to let Sam say yes to Lucifer, let him throw himself into the cage and the devil along with him. Satan would be gone, but so would Sam.
Nothing could have prepared him for it, the emptiness he felt the second Sam leapt into the pit. Cas healed all of his physical injuries, but he almost couldn't feel a difference. It was a while before he was able to stand, and then he got into the Impala and just drove. He had promised Sam that he would live a normal life with Lisa, and he was clinging to that promise. Because without that he had nothing, there was no reason for him to go on.
"Dean."
He didn't even flinch as the soft voice spoke from the passenger's seat that Cas had vacated just a few minutes ago. He glanced over at Crowley with dead eyes, not saying anything.
Crowley studied him a bit, his expression almost concerned. "Where are you going?"
Dean meant to tell him that it was none of his business, but he suddenly realized that he was already speaking. "Lisa's. We dated a long time ago. Last time I went by, it seemed like she would take me back. I don't know if she still will, but I have to try."
"Why her?"
"Sam. He made me promise."
"So you're getting back with an old fling because it was your bothers dying wish?"
He didn't have a good answer to that, so he changed the subject. "What are you even doing here?"
"Making sure you're okay."
"Like you care."
"I do." There was so much conviction in his voice that it was hard for even Dean to argue with it.
"Well, thanks, but I'm fine. Certainly don't need the comfort of a demon."
Crowley hesitated before turning away. "Of course. I wish you luck on your life, Dean, since I wager I won't be seeing you again. Goodbye."
He vanished without another word, and Dean was surprised to realize that he could feel even more alone.