And so it went on.

I'd wake up to a blood bag, exchange a few pleasantries with the Light Bringer, he'd have his way with me, and I would be allowed back into my meatsuit to wallow in agony till the next round.

When he wasn't causing me the worst pain imaginable, Lucifer was kind, gentle, even encouraging. He never dropped his 'loving master training his puppy' routine, and damn me but I went along with it for the sake of making things easier on myself.

A part of me raged with indignation every time. I am not some Angel's pet! I'm the King of the Crossroads! The future King of Hell! I am above this!

A smaller, but much more insidious part of me knew that I was at fault for everything, and that every ounce of suffering Lucifer heaped on me was justified. I didn't deserve dignity. After all I was… all the evil I had done…

Stop that! Stop!

The effects of the blood became a constant of fear, rage, and worst of all; guilt. It was to the point that I was sure I was getting transfusions even on the days when I was unconscious. After two weeks, I was used to it. I could barely remember what it was like to be without these horrid emotions… to be so empty.

The effects of Lucifer's Grace was more worrying. The first couple of exposures were just as bad, but after that things started to change. It still hurt… you can't imagine how much it hurt, but it became less soul shattering, and after every round I recovered a little bit quicker. Soon I was through it within a day, then a couple of hours.

Whatever Lucifer was trying to do; it was working. I was changing...

Nope. Don't go there, Crowley.

I kept track of time as best as I could. By my estimate, it had been three weeks and two days. Now that I wasn't spending most of my time unconscious, I had long hours to myself to think… to reflect…

My keeper had stopped strapping me down. He always stayed during the transfusions, and with him there I didn't dare rip the IV out of my arm. As for the rest of the time; I suppose he decided if I couldn't escape the room and couldn't get up to much with what was there, he could afford me the freedom to move around.

I was sitting in the chair with my hands clasped on my chest the next time Lucifer walked in. I was still terrified of him, but familiarity had dulled the sensation. Instead I picked up on things: he was earlier than usual, he wasn't looking at me as he entered the room, his gaze was distant, and there was a slight quirk to his brow that meant he was amused.

"Something on your mind?" I asked.

His eyes slowly made their way over to me and he frowned. I was a little worried, but it wasn't his angry frown. "What did you tell the Winchesters about me?"

I tilted my head and thought back to that night. God it was almost a month ago…

"Not much," I answered honestly. "I told them a bit about your relationship with Demons, gave them the Colt and your location… that's about it."

"You didn't tell them about the Horsemen Rings?"

I sat up a little straighter. "Horsemen… as in the Four Horsemen? I don't understand."

"Their rings form the key to my cage, and the Winchesters now have War's and Famine's."

Holy mother of sin!

He squinted at me and his frown deepened. "You didn't know."

"No, I didn't bloody know!"

But I do now that you told me, you ignorant putz!

"Then how did they find out?" He looked away, staring at a spot on the wall instead. "Castiel?"

My leg jiggled as I processed this new information. Lucifer's cage had a key, and the impossible-odd-beating moronic duo already had two out of four pieces…

I turned my attention to the Archangel and found him shaking his head and smirking.

"You don't seem worried," I said carefully.

He smiled at me. "Why would I be worried? Even if they find all four rings… even if they figure out how to get the door open; there is no force on Earth that can make me walk through it."

Arrogant son of a bitch.

Lucifer conjured an IV stand and hung a fresh blood bag from it.

I sighed. "Down to business, then?" I automatically rolled my sleeve up and held out my arm.

"This won't be for much longer," he said as he inserted the needle.

I didn't like the sweet relief that flowed through me as the blood entered my veins. I was becoming a damned junkie.

He released my arm and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I didn't shudder. I was used to it by now.

"At this point, the effects of the blood are permanent," said Lucifer. "We'll give it a couple more days, just to be on the safe side."

Now I shuddered. I turned my head away from him and bit my bottom lip as unshed tears stung in my eyes. I wasn't about to start crying, but… permanent? Even if I kicked the blood, I was stuck like this now?

I honestly didn't want to go back to that emptiness, but to feel like this for the rest of existence?

Or worse; to come to accept Lucifer's hold over me? To be content with it?

I wrapped my arms around myself and screwed my eyes shut. If I had any food in me I would have thrown up.

Lucifer must have noticed my distress because he started stroking his hand up and down my back. "You're going to be alright, Crowley," he cooed.

Seriously not helping…

"I know you don't feel it right now, but you're already stronger than any Demon has ever been," he said. "With a little more work, you'll be perfect. You'll be something I can be proud to have by my side."

I took a deep breath through my nose and forcefully calmed myself. I decided then and there that this was not going to happen. I would escape. I'd help the Winchesters put Lucifer away. I'd be free of him, and I would not spend the rest of eternity as his pet.

For the first time, an emotion spread through me that didn't make me want to curl up and die. I couldn't name it, but it made my breath hitch, so I clung to it. I latched on and refused to let it go.

When the transfusion was done it was easier to vacate my vessel. I brushed my ethereal form against Lucifer's hand without dread and accepted the Grace that flowed into me with… well… grace. It still hurt like nothing else, but it was suddenly an agony that I could bear. When I returned to my vessel I didn't retreat. I stayed at the helm, breathing steadily as the pain faded in a matter of minutes.

When I opened my eyes it was to find the Archangel crouched in front of me, holding my hands in his. His smile was happy and warm, and I smiled back.

Le'ts see how happy you look when you're back in your cage, you ugly featherduster.

A week later I was declared 'Perfect.' Funny, I didn't feel perfect. I felt like a mess.

I was plotting my escape and was nervous as a knife in a gunfight. If Lucifer saw through me I didn't want to think about what he would do.

I was running into a road block though; Wards wouldn't work. My most powerful Enochian wards had failed to make the Devil so much as sneeze.

Trying to kill him was laughably out of the question.

That left escape… but how was I to escape my prison when I didn't even know what was keeping me there?

My break finally came when Lucifer stopped Gracing me and decided to change the game.

He now came and went a couple of times a day with a small syringe of blood instead of one entire bag. He was weaning me off of the stuff, I realized, and it was making me sweaty and jittery. I was a classic junkie in need of a hit. Made it hard to focus.

A couple of days into this new routine he came to give me my injection. I was laying on the bed with an arm over my eyes. I didn't so much as twitch when the needle went into my other arm, but I sighed and relaxed as the knots of tensions left me. I could sense him staring at me. I kept my eyes covered and ignored him.

"Have you ever tried ice cream?" he asked.

The bazaar question caught me off guard and I finally moved my arm so I could look at him. "What?"

His eyes glittered with amusement. "Ice cream. Have you tried it?"

"Um… no." I sat up a little, trying to figure out where this strange conversation was going. "It was before my time as a human, and Demons don't eat."

"You don't have to eat, but you can." He poked me in the chest; bloody poked me!

I let it slide and shrugged. "Never really peaked my interest."

"I don't know… Something about the concept appeals to me."

"The concept of ice cream?" I frowned. Was he being serious? "You're the bloody Devil, mate."

He quirked a brow. "And that means I'm not supposed to enjoy things?"

Shifting uncomfortably, I said, "Well, you've got me there."

Lucifer chuckled and then suddenly took my right wrist in his hand. His touch pierced into me with a sharp, searing pain.

"OWCH!" I wrenched it away from him and checked it. There was a mark, slightly raised like a healed burn. It was similar to Enochian, but simpler and beyond my ability to interpret. "What the Hell is this?!"

He smirked and said, "I've decided I'm going to try some."

My eye twitched. "Ice cream?"

"Yes." His infuriating smile broadened as he grabbed my elbow and pulled me to my feet. "And you're coming with me."

I froze, unable to process what he was talking about for several seconds. Finally, it clicked. "The mark… its binding magic."

"Don't worry about that." He wandered away to the door and, looking over his shoulder at me, he said, "Are you coming?"

I didn't move at first. I experimentally flexed my powers; tried to teleport, move something, do anything, but it was no good. Lucifer wasn't going to wait for me. He walked out of the room and I felt an inexplicable pull to follow him.

It turned into a full on panic the further away he got. Unable to stand it, I practically ran to catch up.

A leash… he had put a leash on me!

As I fell in step beside the Archangel I grappled with that now familiar rage, and terror, and so many other things. This was the first time in a month and a half that I had left that room and here I was being led around on an invisible leash to go and try fucking ice cream!

Why are we still walking around Hell?

We passed a couple of Demons who bowed out of Lucifer's way and gave me strange, awed looks.

That's when it hit me. The damn Archangel was parading me around like a prized show dog. I was suddenly grateful that the magic binding me was nigh-undetectable. To the Demons it would look like I was just taking a stroll with their beloved creator. I straightened my back, held my head up, played the part of Lucifer's favorite.

Because that's what I am, isn't it?

And he wanted them all to see it.

When we entered the throne room, there was only one Demon present. She was wearing a young woman; short, slight, long dark hair and darker eyes. She leaned against a pillar, the very picture of boredom, but she snapped to attention as we entered the room.

When she spotted me behind the Archangel, her eyes narrowed like daggers. Obviously she recognized me, but I couldn't quite place her.

Lucifer cut into our staring match by saying, "Crowley? Meg? Have you two met?"

Meg? Ah yes… "Azazel's girl, right? Still poking at the Winchesters?"

"I… you… he's…" Meg spluttered and pointed at me, but stopped when she noticed that Lucifer's gaze had gone frigid.

"He's what?" I could feel the ice in his voice from across the room.

She lowered her eyes to the floor and said, "Nothing. Sorry."

Satisfied, Lucifer held his hand out to me. "Ready?"

Internally I was fuming, but as I walked over to him, I managed to meet the she-Demon's sneaky glare with a smirk and a wink.

Lucifer slid his arm around my shoulder and rested his hand on my back. It was a familiar, intimate gesture that spoke volumes about where I stood with him.

With a rustle of unseen wings we were gone from Hell. All was darkness and rushing air and it ended so abruptly that if the Angel didn't have an arm around me I might have fallen over. I much preferred my own teleporting over that.

"Are you alright?" he asked. There was laughter in his voice.

I glared at him as I recovered and straightened my suit. "I'm fine."

"Good. Then let's get going."

The sun was down, and it was a warm night. There was music playing from beyond a stand of trees… beautiful music; an orchestral symphony that I couldn't name. Music had always been on okay thing, but the tingling that it caused in me now was completely unfamiliar. In almost 300 years I never reacted to anything like this. I stopped and closed my eyes, tilted my head to better hear it.

"Pleasure."

"Hmm?" I looked to the Angel when he spoke.

"You can feel it, can't you?" Lucifer watched me, curious.

Was that what this was? Pleasure?

I remembered enjoying things before, didn't I? Torturing souls? Making deals? That romp in Mesopotamia that earned me the Crossroads? No… those were twisted, retched things compared to this. Craig? No… scotch was like the ghost of what was thrilling through me right now. I liked scotch based on the memory of liking scotch. I couldn't think of anything else that fit. This was such an incredible sensation, and as a Demon I was completely void of it.

"You… you took this from us…" There were tears falling from my eyes, but I didn't care.

The Angel frowned, his hands deep in his pockets and his head lowered. "Yes, and I do regret it. I'd give it back… to all the Demons, but they're too broken. It would tear them apart. You're the only one I could give this to."

I was trembling; half grateful, and half horrified.

He approached me carefully, like he was approaching an injured animal. Gently he took my shoulder in his strong grip. "I know you're having a moment here, but I'd really like to try that ice cream."

I swallowed, swiped a sleeve across my eyes, and let him lead me where he would. We passed through the trees and along some water. It was like a dream. There were palaces, a pagoda, a roller coaster, willow trees; all lit up with millions of colored lights.

Somehow I knew the place. "Tivoli Gardens," I murmured.

"You recognize it?"

"Barely. It's been a long time since I've been to Copenhagen." I didn't remember it being so beautiful. "The roller coaster's new."

Lucifer smirked. "You're not interested in trying it, are you?"

I thought about that; stared at the ride as the train screamed through a great loop, its passengers shrieking in delight. They sounded so alive. "I think… maybe?"

"Ice cream first."

We found ourselves in front of a little booth; ornately carved and delicately painted. There were pictures of various frozen treats plastered across the front, and droves of people lined up outside.

Lucifer could have parted them like the Red Sea, but he was content with waiting his turn. He completely ignored the funny looks we were getting, or rather he was getting. He was still rocking the 'plague victim' look after all.

In order to pass the time, I asked, "Why this place?"

"Death," he answered absently. "We were talking and… in the short time he's been out, he's already tried ice cream from all over the world. According to him, Tivoli Gardens has some of the best."

"Death likes ice cream?" My eyebrows rose in alarm.

"He likes junk food in general; pizza, pickle chips, cotton candy… He said if I'm going to destroy it all, I should at least experience some of it before it's too late." He shrugged. "Ice cream sounded interesting."

I let that sink in. Death likes junk food?!

When we got to the counter Lucifer ordered a giant waffle cone stuffed with five different flavors. He eagerly demanded that nuts and caramel be dribbled on top. "Crowley? What would you like?"

I stared at the selection of flavors, none of which I could even imagine trying when I was alive. I had no frame of reference for any of this. Wrinkling my nose, I said, "I don't know."

"He'll have the same as me."

A mountain of dairy, nuts, and sugar was shoved into my hands and no one objected when Lucifer and I walked away without paying.

He led me back to the water and plunked us both down on an empty bench. We stared at the lights as he absently licked at his ice cream in silence for several minutes. I tried my own. Rich, sweet, delicious… but so cold. Being around Lucifer so much, I was always cold. I couldn't say I liked it.

Lucifer ate every last bite of his cone while mine melted. When he was done, he sat forward and sighed. "Sometimes I do have to admire these hairless monkeys."

I eyed him warily. He sounded so damn sad, and his hunched shoulders, his drawn brow... Here was Satan himself admitting he admired something about Humanity. Could some small part of him actually regret what he was doing?

I snorted at the notion. "Then why destroy them?"

"Because they're not perfect," the Angel answered breathlessly. "Even this isn't perfect. Imagine if it was? How worthy it would be?" He turned his attention to me as I tried to keep the melted cream from sloshing out of the cone and onto my hands. He reached out and touched it, caused it to vanish. "You barely ate any."

"It's too cold," I answered honestly. I was too cold. I was freezing, I felt every one of my long centuries, and I was so very tired…

"Fair enough." He leaned back, content. "Still wanna try the roller coaster?"

My hands were shaking as chills ran up my spine. I was coming down from the blood. "Not… not tonight." I just wanted to return to my prison where things made some sort of sense.

Lucifer seemed to catch on that something was wrong. He took stock of my condition and said, "Let's get you back."