Sara sneezed and grabbed a tissue, blowing her nose. She coughed a few times, leaning back against the pillows and allowing herself to momentarily drown in self-pity.

There was a soft knock on her door, and Jody entered, holding a tray. "Hey, kiddo," she said. "I brought you some soup and some juice."

Sara smiled weakly. "Jody, it's just a cold," she said, sitting up. "You don't have to do all this."

Jody sighed, setting the tray on the nightstand. "I just feel so guilty that I can't get out of this meeting with the D.A. office today," she said, brushing some hair away from Sara's face. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Sure," Sara nodded. "I'll probably just nap on the couch and watch some TV or something. I'll be fine."

"Alright," Jody said reluctantly. "My meeting ends at three, I'll come straight home as soon as it's over. The girls should be home around two thirty. If you need anything, you can call me, or . . ."

"I know," Sara smiled.

Jody hesitated. "You're sure it's just a cold?" she asked. "Does your head hurt or anything?"

"Doesn't that fall into the category of a cold?" Sara joked.

Jody gave an obviously fake smile. "Sure. Alright, I'm just a phone call away."

"Bye," Sara called. She shoved her feet into some slippers, heading downstairs and flipping the TV on as she ate her soup. She brought some juice into the living room with her, and shivered, curling up in a wool blanket. She was dozing off when the door opened.

"Jody, I'm fine," she called. "Go to work."

"You don't sound fine, exactly, love," Crowley said as he entered the room.

Sara sniffed. "Sorry. I thought you were Jody returning to make sure I hadn't keeled over."

"She called me, actually," her father said, and Sara rolled her eyes.

"Jeez, it is illegal to catch a cold?" she coughed.

"Just making sure it's a cold and not something more serious," he replied, joining her and laying his hand over her forehead. "You do have a slight fever . . ."

"Yes," she said. "Because I'm sick."

He frowned, looking irritated. "Am I not allowed to be concerned?"

She stared at him, blinking once. "You're a demon."

"You're my daughter." He sighed, leaning back into the couch. "Did you read the journal?"

"Yeah," Sara said, twisting her hair nervously. "It was really beautiful. They – they're letters, to me. She wrote one every time she felt sad or lonely or bored. Some of them are just silly – jokes she thought I may like one day, funny stories about some of the things I did as a baby. But some of them . . . they were really deep." She looked at her father. "She loved you. A lot. She was sure you'd come back."

"One day, I may have," was all he said, and they sat in silence and watched crappy court room shows for the next half hour or so.

"Did you love her?" Sara asked quietly.

"In a way."

"What does that mean?"

Crowley glanced at her. "When I met Regina, I'd just been put in charge of all crossroads deals. There was a lot of stress with the job. I needed something to distract me from the mind numbing boredom and the stupidity of others. Your mother was beautiful, intelligent, and different. At this time in my life, humans were . . . cattle. I didn't give a damn what happened to them, as long as they kept making deals and kept me in business. In fact, I enjoyed every second of pain I brought to anyone. Then there was Regina. I'd just made a deal with some bloke at the university in Manchester, and as I was leaving, something caught my eye."

"Mum?" Sara asked, swallowing.

Crowley nodded. "She was stunning. You're a lot like her – the same nose, and the exact laugh, that regal way you carry yourself. She was perfect. I saw her from across campus – this extravagant creature, hair so gold you couldn't look at it in direct sunshine, it shone so bright. Her eyes were the color of amber, and were always filled with mischief and joy. She was a small, graceful thing, heading back to her apartment from dance class."

"She was a dancer?" Sara asked in excitement, leaning forward, literally on the edge of her seat.

"Oh, yes. No one danced like your mother," Crowley remembered somewhat fondly. "I went to every show after that. As a matter of fact, the Northern Ballet Company wanted her, but she turned them down. She said dancing wouldn't be enjoyable for her if she did it for her career, that it was just something fun for her." He looked as though her were remembering something. "That day, when I saw her walk across campus, our eyes met. She was joyful and bright and everything that I wasn't, and I wanted her – I had to have her."

"So you asked her out?" Sara asked, entranced by the romantic tale.

"Yes. And she told me to bugger off."

Sara frowned. "What?"

"Four times, actually, before agreeing to have dinner with me," Crowley said, smirking. "She was as stubborn as she was beautiful. I sent her flowers and complimented her, and she refused."

"What changed her mind?"

"Your mother got a lot of attention," Crowley began. "From a lot of people. Men, mostly. One night, as she was leaving a late class and walking back to her apartment, she got some especially unwanted attention from three men at the same time. As it happens, I was doing most of my business at the university at this point, and I saw them."

"So you defended her?" Sara asked, tilting her head. "You fended off three men?"

"I killed them."

Sara's stomach twisted at the shock in the otherwise romantic story. Then she reminded herself that he was a demon, after all, and for some reason . . . the thought of him killing three men who may have seriously hurt her mother didn't bother her even a bit. She shuddered, disgusted with herself.

"I made myself scarce after that," Crowley continued. "But then your mother turned the tables. She found out how to summon me from one of my clients. She did her research, summoned me – and that's how for the first time, a human caught me in a Devil's Trap."

He had to take a break as Sara laughed, and her laughter turned into a coughing fit. She sobered, gasping for breath.

"I did say she was intelligent," Crowley sighed. "She demanded to know who and what I was, and when I told her, I expected her to run screaming. Instead, she crossed her arms, glared for a moment, and scraped away part of the trap with her foot. She turned away, walking away, and then stopped and said, 'Well, are you going to buy me dinner, or not?' It was that moment I decided that this was going to go far beyond the fling I had wanted. So we went out, several times. Then I began going to her shows, and then I moved her into a larger apartment where I could spend my time away from Hell. It was quite the scandal, your mother and I. A young, brilliant, beautiful young woman was with a significantly older, mysterious businessman – that looked suspicious. Most of her friends stopped speaking to her. I, of course, was desperately trying to keep her a secret from my boss, Lilith."

"I . . . I never even considered that mother knew you were a demon," Sara admitted. "I assumed . . . well, that you lied to her."

"I would have, had she not been so clever," Crowley replied. "I got attached to Regina. She wanted to get married, and I told her yes, of course, anything she wanted. Then Lilith found out."

Sara's eyes widened. "What?"

"How, I'll never know. Under normal circumstances, it would have been overlooked – demons often take human lovers. However, this was more, and to Lilith it was obvious. She and I were . . . complicated. She was a self-proclaimed Queen of Hell, and I was, for lack of a better word, her bitch. I tried to break it off with Regina for her own safety, but she refused, and surprised me with something – she was pregnant."

Crowley leaned back. "This next part is going to be hard for you, but I promised you the whole truth. I didn't care that she was pregnant. I didn't care about the baby. So what I saw here was an opportunity."

Sara felt sick, and not from the cold.

"I told Lilith that Regina was pregnant," he continued in that cold tone of his he had. "And she was beyond thrilled. A Cambion is a very powerful thing, like I told you, and she had . . . particular use for one. I promised Lilith the baby if she spared Regina. She agreed, but only if I abandoned Regina."

No, Sara thought. No, no, this didn't happen.

"I visited Regina less and less," he continued. "To make it easier for myself to leave her after you were born. When I got the call that she was in labor, I arrived and you'd just been born. I'll be honest with you, Sara – I had every intention of stealing you and giving you to Lilith. But then I saw Regina holding you, and I stopped. Then she put you in my arms, and you looked at me. And I couldn't do it."

Sara let out a breath. He had let her stay with her mother by choice? Was this whole story an emotional roller-coaster?!

"So I hid you both," Crowley continued. "And made your mother promise not to tell you or anyone else a thing. I told Lilith that you had both died in childbirth, and thankfully I was convincing enough for her to believe me. But I could never return to either of you, just in case. After your mother died, I couldn't even stand to look at you. So I let you go into the system, provided for you on occasion, and kept my distance – until you wondered into Winchester territory, that is."

"So you hated me," Sara said slowly.

"Yes."

"But now . . ."

Crowley sighed. "I told you a few weeks ago about the addiction I went through. The affects it had on me."

"You mean feelings?"

"Yes, those. Well, I've kicked them. They're almost completely gone." He glanced at her. "Besides for the ones I have for you."

She blinked. "What changed your mind?" she asked quietly.

"You did, Sara. When I saw you, how much like your mother you are . . . and when I heard you were in trouble, I don't know what came over me. It was like there was a piece of your mother inside me. I had to protect you and I still do. You are my daughter and I care for you. For some reason."

He looked thoroughly embarrassed, and they were both quiet for a long time. Sara scooted over closer to him, and leaned against him.

"What're you doing?" he frowned, unsure of how to respond.

"I'm hugging my dad," she replied after a moment.

He blinked. "Why?"

"Because I'm starting to not hate him."

That made Crowley laugh. He lifted his arm and let her lay against his shoulder, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"You're not so awful yourself," he chuckled.