Chapter Nineteen : A Hellhound for a Roommate
Grace stood in a tiny hotel bathroom feeling a mixture of anxiety and self loathing. Her skin was so soaked with sweat that it had made the white cotton nightgown she was wearing damp. The nightgown was so sweat soaked that it had become practically transparent under the florescent lighting in the bathroom. She knew that she must smell terrible from all the sweat but she was too exhausted to be embarrassed.
She had once again awoken from a light sleep screaming and trashing. She couldn't help but to feel discouraged when she awoke. Why couldn't she just get over her issues and sleep like a normal person ? But every night it was the same, just another nightmare and another nearly sleepless night.
She was beginning to lose count of the nightmares she'd had and she was growing desperate for it to all come to a stop. She was at the point that she would kill for a good nights rest.
Grace shivered as the air conditioner switched on filling the bathroom with cold air. She ran her hands up and down her arms trying to combat the goosebumps that were making their presence known on her skin.
Crowley didn't say a word as he knelt in front of the white porcelain bathtub and rolled up the sleeves of his button down shirt. He placed the stopper plug down over the bathtub drain as he adjusted the temperature of the water.
He let out a sigh thankful that the hotel had provided them with a sample bottle of lavender scented hotel brand bubble bath. Half the little bottle was just enough to fill the tub with bubbles.
He finally spoke once he was satisfied that the water was warm enough. "Get in Gracie."
Grace ditched her sweat soaked nightgown and stepped into the bathtub not helping but to let out a content sigh as the warm soapy water surrounded her skin. She dunked under the bubbles wetting her hair before she resurfaced and laid back stretching her legs out in front of her as far as the tiny bathtub would allow.
She was surprised that Crowley remained knelt beside the bathtub. She spoke up as he reached out and ran a hand through her tangled damp hair. "Want to get in ?"
"As tempting as that is darling, I don't think that tub isn't quite big enough for the two of us." Crowley pointed out happy to see that she was settling down into the tub her tense body finally relaxing.
She closed her eyes focusing on his hand as it continued to run through her hair the pads of his fingers massaging her scalp.
Grace felt dread begin to bubble deep in her gut as Crowley spoke up. "You need to talk about your nightmares Gracie. How can I help you get through this if I don't know what's frightening you ?"
She opened her eyes stared into Crowley's eyes. He looked so worried and so tired. She didn't think it was possible for him to ever truly look so exhausted.
She felt an icy chill run down her spine as she once again thought about the nightmare she'd had about him. It had been only a week ago that she'd dreamed of Crowley in the form of some horrid creature that was hell-bent on dropping her into the fires of hell. She had only dreamed about him that one time but it still haunted her.
She had no idea how she could ever even begin to tell him about her dreams especially the one about him. She knew what he'd think. He would think that she was afraid of him. Which couldn't be farther from the truth.
She felt ridiculous when she really thought about it. She knew that Crowley would never hurt her. He loved her and wanted nothing more than to take care of her. She could never be frightened of him.
Instead of confessing to him about her dreams of him as a monster she chose to change the subject away from her horrifying dreams.
"What do we look like without our meatsuits ? I mean demons...what are their...or our, I guess... souls like ?" Grace asked as she tried to resist the urge to sink down into the bubble bath and never reappear.
Crowley let out a sigh closing his eyes for a moment and rubbing his brow. He opened his eyes not helping but to frown as he pulled his hand away from her hair and placed it on the edge of the bathtub. "Darling. Why woul..."
She spoke up interrupting the protest he was about to spit out. "Please, I just want to know."
She placed her hand over his trying to make it clear that finding out what her soul had become wouldn't change anything between them. Trying to convince him that she didn't blame him for what she had become.
Crowley huffed clearly not enjoying this conversation. "Some people try to claim that we don't even have souls anymore."
He paused hoping that she wouldn't want him to elaborate anymore but she was still staring at him expectantly waiting for him to continue.
He sighed as he spoke. "Our souls arrive looking just like our bodies when we first arrive in hell. Then as time and torture go on our souls are eaten away. It's almost like they're decaying, at first our eyes go black and smoke begins to eat away at our flesh or well our souls really. It just eats away until there's nothing but mostly black sulfurous smoke left. If you're higher up on the demon food chain you may have white smoke. Or if you're a crossroads demon your smoke may have a red tint to it. The same goes for the eyes."
Grace felt a chill go down her spine and bile rise in her throat as she thought of her dream about him once again. The corpse like creature she had seen with black pits for eyes.
Images of Eli once again appeared in her mind. Eli's pitch black eyes boring into her as he'd tortured her.
She pulled her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes trying to wish the images in her head away. She let out an anxiety filled breath as she opened her eyes.
She couldn't help but to wonder what color her smokey soul was, black , or was it red because of the few crossroads deals that she had made. Or was her soul still totally intact ? Had Eli tortured her enough for her soul to be eaten away ?
She didn't have it in her to ask though. She knew deep down that she wasn't ready for the answer.
Crowley apparently sensed her apprehension because he spoke up doing his best to soothe her. "That will all change once I'm in charge though. I promise. There has to be a way to change the way we look while were down there I'm sure of it."
She gave him a soft smile doing her best to believe him. Still doubt bubbled down within her though. She was doing her best to keep pushing it back down.
Grace was overcome with curiosity as she spoke up hoping that she wouldn't offend him with her question. "So what did you look like when you first came to hell...I mean what did you look like when you were still Fergus McLeod ?"
She was grateful that he gave her soft smile thankfully not offended as he answered her question. "Surprisingly I looked a lot like I do now. It was the reason I wanted this meatsuit so badly. It's actually the basis for choosing a large portion of the meatsuits I've had. I look for features similar to the ones I once had."
He paused for a moment before he began to describe his features all those years ago. " Though when I was still Fergus I was thin due to not eating properly, but I did gain a bit of a gut once the alcohol came into the picture. My hair was a bit lighter, it was more of a sandy brown. My teeth were crooked, a little gray in places to be honest, dental care wasn't big in the 1600s. I wore a kilt... I did have a bit of an athletic form in the legs at least."
She raised an eyebrow at the mention of a kilt. She relaxed once again letting her knees fall back down and her legs stretch out. "A kilt ? Really ?"
"It was Scotland in the 1600s what did you expect ?" He explained a little amused by the expression on her face. He was just grateful that they'd moved on to a lighter subject and that she was now amused and playful instead of anxious.
They stayed silent for a moment before Grace finally broke the silence trying to angle her body and look seductive despite the bubbles. "Are you sure you don't want to get in with me and show me what you were hiding under that kilt ?"
Crowley chuckled as he took one of her hands in his pressing a kiss to it. "You my darling are insufferable. If I get in there it won't be comfortable, trust me. It's too much of a tight fit for it to be anything other than uncomfortable."
Grace pouted at him causing him to smirk and speak up. "I promise when we finally have a place of our own to stay when this is all over, we'll have as many gigantic bathtubs as you want and as many types of bubble bath as you can think of. And I will cuddle with you in every bathtub in the house."
She smiled knowing that she would defiantly hold him to that promise.
Grace sat up on the bed in their hotel room as the reality of the situation began to fully sat in. She stared at the coin like tracking device that was sitting on the bedside table wondering how something so innocent looking could deliver such life altering news.
She cleared her throat as she watched Crowley stuff their scattered belongings into their wooden chest. "So this is really it then. Lucifer or er... Sam jumped into the cage, so it's over ? What happens now ?"
"I go to hell. Take my place on the throne. Sort all the mess in hell out." Crowley replied as he delicately placed a bottle of craig scotch on top of a folded black sheet between four boxes of macaroni and cheese.
"Oh. You make it sound so simple." She pointed out silently wondering where he expected her to go while he was trying to take over hell.
She was doing her best to distract herself from her fear as she began to pick at a loose thread on her pajama shorts. She guessed that there were probably more demons than she could fit into two football stadiums that were gunning for the same crown.
She imagined that Crowley wasn't going to be able to just waltz right in and claim he was the new devil without a unbelievable amount of bloodshed.
Crowley sighed as he saw that Grace was frowning and picking at a long bit of pink thread that was coming unraveled from the cheap pajama shorts she was wearing. He could already tell that her mind was going into overload with worry.
Crowley knew that there couldn't be a worse time for him to have to be separated from Grace, with the nightmares that plagued her sleep and the trauma from the torture she had gone through with Eli still.
She needed him but he had work to do if he expected to take over hell and ensure Grace's and his survival.
He held out hope that if he was king and he made Grace queen, then it would intimidate anyone who might dare to exact revenge on Grace and him for helping the Winchesters.
He knew that there may still be demons who may try to seek revenge against him for the failed apocalypse even once he became king, but at least if he was in charge of hell he would have whatever he needed at his disposal to protect Grace and he.
He went over to the bed and took her hand in his pulling it away from her pajama shorts. "I'm going to be just fine Gracie. I shouldn't be gone for very long. At least it won't seem like a long time to you. Maybe a few weeks at the least."
Grace let out a sigh trying to fight back the overwhelming urge to beg him to stay here with her. She wanted to plead with him to forget about his aspirations to be King of Hell. She wanted to convince him that he would be safe as long as they were together.
He pressed a kiss to Grace's lips before pulling back. "I've already got a nice loft picked out for you to stay in while I'm taking care of things. It's fully furnished, no one knows who or what we are. It's completely safe."
She stared down at their enclosed hands as she felt her stomach drop at the thought of being left alone. She hadn't been separated from Crowley except for the few day's that she had been locked up in that warehouse being tortured by Eli. After that though Crowley hadn't left her side, always there to take care of her every need and give her comfort and reassurance.
Of course she knew that they were going to be separated while he was taking over hell. She just hadn't taken the time to fully think about what being all alone would truly mean. The whole situation sounded terribly lonely and so daunting. Living all alone in this loft sounded more like being locked away in a jail cell at the moment.
She stared back up at Crowley and tried to seem happy as he spoke up a proud smile on his face as he continued to tell her about the loft he'd found. "You'll have grocery deliveries every Monday so you won't have to worry about going out at all. I've already put in the money to stock the place with enough books to shame a library and more dvds than you'll ever have the time to watch."
He paused when he noticed that Grace looked upset though she was obviously trying to put on a sunny facade for him. He could see through her tight-lipped smile. "It won't be so bad darling. I'll try to visit you as often as I can while I'm trying to sort hell's appearance out. It isn't going to be this way forever I promise."
Grace nodded her head trying to shove down the panic attack that was threatening to burst out of her. She knew that he was doing all that he could to make her comfortable in his absence and the loft did sound nice.
She just thought that would sound a lot nicer if Crowley was going to live there with her.
Crowley pressed a kiss to her forehead as he had an idea that may help ease her worries. "I'll tell you what. I'm going to leave Growley with you. He won't let a thing happen to you while I'm gone."
Grace nodded her head as she embraced him. She wrapped her arms around him not helping but to bury her face against him. "When do you have to leave ?"
"Tonight." Crowley replied as he pulled her against him noticing that she had a death-grip on him.
Grace let out a quivering sigh trying her best not to have an anxiety ridden overemotional meltdown. She closed her eyes not helping but to feel extremely foolish as she prayed to anyone who may be out there listening, to keep Crowley safe.
She tried to ignore her anxieties over Crowley's plans as she began to focus on how she was going to handle having to have a hellhound for a roommate.
Grace sat up on the soft powder blue loveseat as she pulled the gray velvet blanket she had over her lap a little tighter against her.
She turned a page trying to focus on the cookbook in her lap. It was a cookbook from the early fifties, Betty Crocker.
The measurements and instructions were a little confusing to be honest. Like what exactly was the difference between simmering and braising ? And how the hell was she suppose to measure a pinch of something ? Did it mean literally a pinch or was she completely interrupting it wrong ?
She sat aside the cookbook no longer able to read about yeast rolls and pot roasts. She had spent her alone time trying to learn to cook. For the most part it was simple enough. All she had to do was subtract salt from every recipe she read about.
It had only been a week since Crowley had dropped her off in the loft and then left to takeover hell. To say that she missed him would be an understatement.
For the most part she worried about him. She wondered if he was finding success in his attempts to become king. She wondered he was meeting a lot of resistance from other demons. She wondered rather he was still alive or not. She would give anything to hear his voice, just to know that he was okay.
She tried to busy herself around the loft, reading, watching dvds, painting her nails, looking at and trying on the clothing in her closet. She had never seen so many delicate fabrics, silks, laces, chiffon, soft linens.
Crowley hadn't lied about the loft being perfect. It was beautiful. Dark wooden floors that were covered with ornate bright rugs, red brick walls that were covered with antique looking paintings, soft blue sofas and a loveseat, mahogany tables.
There were six tall bookshelves full of every book and movie she could think of and a large flat panel television. There was an open kitchen with thick dark granite tile counter tops and shiny black appliances that she was still a bit lost on how to operate. A round dark cherry-wood dining room table with two chairs that had been painted a dark blue.
A bathroom with a huge sunken in bathtub just as Crowley had promised. The bedroom was her favorite room though. The walls were covered with ivory baroque styled wallpaper. The baroque style extended to the furniture. The headboard to the queen sized bed was made of a heavy wood that had been delicately painted a dusty gold. There were more fluffy pillows than she really needed, soft light blue sheets and a matching blue comforter.
The loft was a dream really. Though it was missing one thing, Crowley.
She stretched out on the sofa wondering rather she should turn on the tv or not. She tried to fight off the need to sleep.
Her nightmares hadn't ceased since she had arrived at the loft and waking up without Crowley made the nightmares seem even more gloomy.
She eyed Growley as the hellhound crossed the room before making his way over to the loveseat.
Crowley had left her with a million instructions for the care of his favorite hellhound.
She was to give Growley a thick raw slab of steak that would come with the grocery deliveries each Monday, but that was the only time she was supposed to allow him to have human food. And she was to never let him eat out of her hand, just drop it in the huge ceramic pet bowl on the kitchen floor. Crowley had assured her that the hellhound would go hunting for the rest of his food on his own. Which Grace found to be a little disconcerting. What would a hellhound hunt for food ? Squirrels, pigeons, cats, dogs, peoples everlasting souls ?
Growley was sleep anywhere on the floor. If he got on the bed she was to order him to get down, which seemed like a more frightening task than it actually turned out to be.
Needless to say Grace had gotten accustomed to Growley. He was almost like a normal dog once she got over the glowing crimson eyes, the impossibly long razor sharp teeth, and the occasional smokey essence that seemed to surround the hound, and the fact that he was created to rip peoples souls from their bodies...yep just a normal dog.
Growley rested his head on the cushion beside Grace as he let out a deep huff a billow of dark smoke exiting his mouth and nose.
She reached over scratching the hound's humongous head as she spoke up. "I know. I miss your daddy too."
She smirked slightly wondering what Crowley would think of her referring to him as Growley's daddy.
Grace continued to pet the hellhound's head as she let her mind turn to Crowley. She just hoped that wherever he was at the moment that he was alright.