Wow! Thirty chapters have gone by so fast! Well, to me anyway ;) Now that the story is coming to a close, I'm going to start including flashbacks and other POVs in the story. Part 2 will be coming soon, so I have a question for you readers - would you prefer Part 2 to be continued in this fanfic, or would you prefer me to publish another, separate fanfic for the next part? Let me know in the reviews! Thanks for being so great!

Hell

Thirteen Years Ago

The sound of Hell was nothing new. Various sobbing and crying, screaming and cursing, the begging. All the different voices, young and old, male and female – it was the song of Hell, ever playing on repeat for all of time.

The sight of Hell never bothered Crowley, either, he reflected as he strode down the long hallway. A chandelier made of bone and entrails hung from the ceiling. That was new, Crowley admitted, admiring the detail of it. Alistair's little touches certainly made the infernal pit more homey for some of the demons. The tapestry's made from human skin that hung on the walls were pure art, and always an eye catcher – especially to those damned to torture, as they marched to the racks every day, often passing their own skin.

No, it was the smell that always disgusted Crowley. Some of the demons relished in the blood, the sweat, the tears. Crowley was a man of taste. He enjoyed the smell of rich antique furniture, of fine whiskey . . .

The smell of Regina's hair.

He tried to push her from his mind, but she always lingered there. There was a difference between protective and possessive, and Crowley knew which of those titles he sported – not that he cared. Regina was his, and his alone. Was he content to watching her from afar, letting his own child siphon up all Regina's affections? No, of course not. But what could he do? Lilith was a suspicious old bitch, and begrudgingly, Crowley did feel something for the child. Perhaps it was residual guilt after his relationship with his son, Gavin – or maybe it was just that at four years old, the girl was already so much like Regina. He often watched her from afar – even for a toddler, her movements were graceful like her mother, and she was constantly distracted with simple, beautiful things. Flowers, butterflies, all the things Crowley never noticed, and didn't care to.

He was pulled from his thoughts as a woman, her stomach more on the outside of her body than the inside, grabbed at his pants leg, begging for water. Crowley kicked her aside absentmindedly, continuing down the hall. With a wave of his hand, he opened a large, heavy oak door. He entered, relieved to be out of the heat and stench and into a classier room, lined with torches. He took his seat at the table, next to Alistair, who gave a nod of greeting.

"Nice of you to join us," Lilith said coldly from her place at the head of the table. The table was set by rank, with Lilith at the head; Azazel sat to her right, Alistair to her left. Crowley's seat was beside Alistair as usual.

Crowley noticed the demon straight across from him, beside Azazel – she was a young demon, he was fairly sure. Azazel's favorite, and Alistair's apprentice. She'd only been training with Alistair for two hundred years, but she was already one of Hell's best. She'd taken a new meatsuit – a petite blonde thing, not threatening in the least. But then again, she was deceptive in every way. Beside her was Lilith's favorite, Ruby. Crowley knew very little of her – she kept to herself, preferring to answer directly to Lilith. Several lower-tier demons sat at the other end of the table, none of which Crowley concerned himself with – all of his demons, his crossroaders, were out working.

"Apologies," Crowley finally replied to his mistress.

"I take it your duties have been keeping you busy," Lilith retorted icily – she'd been acting cool towards him lately.

"Busier than you," Alistair snickered.

Lilith narrowed her eyes. "Something to say, scum?"

It was no secret that Alistair and Lilith had little love for each other. Now, Alistair leaned back in his seat leisurely, crossing his arms and smirking.

"Crowley and his minions have brought in more souls in a month than you have in a decade," Alistair remarked with a wave of his hand. His overly relaxed demeanor only angered Lilith more.

"Careful, Alistair," Lilith retorted. "You're good. But you're not a necessity."

Alistair raised an eyebrow with an infuriating smirk, exchanged a glance across the table with his apprentice, and gestured for Lilith to go on.

Crowley didn't pay much attention to the meeting; blah blah blah Lucifer, blah blah true king, blah blah . . . Same old, day in and day out. Lilith sat so high and mighty on her throne, as though she'd earned it - everything had always been handed to Lilith. Hand picked by Lucifer, pampered and made to think she was special. Crowley wondered who he'd have to go through to get that throne himself - Lilith, of course, and Azazel. They were both completely obsessed with Lucifer and bringing him back, but the true fact of the matter was that most demons were less than thrilled with an angel bossing them would never betray her mistress. But, if he had Alistair backing him, and maybe the apprentice . . .

They were dismissed, and Lilith made a point to walk straight past Crowley without a glance. He narrowed his eyes, uneasy due to her behavior.

"And we thought Abaddon was crazy," Alistair glared after Lilith as well.

"Careful," Crowley reminded him, glancing across the room, towards where Azazel was lingering, ordering around some of his worshipers. "Her fan club will hear you."

"Let them," Alistair waved a hand, unconcerned. "All this talk of Lucifer. It bores me. Hell doesn't need an angel, it needs chaos. Damned be all this 'Lucifer, our one true dark king' bullshit."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Crowley replied. "Some serious spellwork would need to come into play to release Lucifer from his prison. We have time to prepare, if need be. The only thing we have to worry about is Lilith's number one fan stirring up trouble upstairs."

"Wouldn't count on it," Alistair said with a wicked grin. "Azazel's spending most of his time down here. He's got that hunter on his tail, the dad of one of his 'Special Children.' Can't kill him – bastard's outsmarted him every time, and gets closer to getting one over on ol' Azazel every day."

"I ought to send the bloke a gift basket," Crowley muttered, and Alistair gave a chuckle. "I'd have no qualms with Azazel getting taken down a peg – at the least."

"Aww, it almost sounds like you might be a little jealous, Lucky," came the snarky voice of the apprentice, who had sauntered over to them. Her relaxed demeanor, snide confidence, and ever present smirk annoyed Crowley to no end.

"Say something, whore?" Crowley replied, raising an eyebrow. "Run along to your daddy, now; the grown ups are talking."

She arched an eyebrow, mischief in her eyes. "Don't you have to be over five foot to be considered an adult, then?" She asked innocently, cocking her head to the side. Alistair chuckled, and Crowley resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Don't worry, my father won't be around to bully you for a while," she continued, crossing her arms. "Lilith has given him a very important job topside. I'm sure you'll hear all about it."

"The suspense is killing me," Crowley retorted.

"Go easy on my girl, Crowley, she's just loyal is all," Alistair said with an amused grin.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Crowley replied.

"That's a new meatsuit, huh?" Alistair asked the apprentice, glancing her over.

She grinned. "Do you like it? College kid from Andover. I dolled her up a bit. I'm thinking I'll use her name for now on, too – what do you think of 'Meg'?"

"Perhaps you should try something better suited for you," Crowley suggested. "Skank, maybe?"

"Keep up that flirting and I'll have to do something about it," the newly-named Meg winked, laying her hand on Alistair's arm for a moment before sashaying away. "Either way, you can kiss the skank's sweet ass goodbye for a while; I've got some business top side. Don't wait up."

Crowley glared as she left, as always, unable to stand her and her unbothered demeanor.

"One day," he growled, eyes narrowing. "I'm going to end that little pest."

Alistair chuckled again. "You can certainly try, Crowley," he replied. "You can try."

"Azazel is up to something," Crowley said suspiciously. "I don't like the way he and his little follower were watching me."

"I have to admit I don't have an especially good feeling about it myself," Alistair admitted. "If I were you, I'd check up on your consort and your wee little cherub. For the right price, I'll go myself." Crowley didn't trust anyone – all the demons were all backstabbing, selfish, entitled entities who did things only for themselves. Alistair did things differently. He wasn't trustworthy, but he also wasn't untrustworthy. So when Crowley needed help hiding his family, Alistair is who he turned too.

"I can't risk it. I'd lead Lilith right to them," Crowley continued. "Even if wasn't protecting Regina, I won't risk Lilith getting her claws on Sara."

"Feeling a little sentimental, are we?" Alistair narrowed his eyes, but also sneered a bit.

"Hardly. You and I are on the same page, Alistair – we don't want Lucifer running our kingdom. A Cambion is exactly the thing Lilith needs to open the Cage and give Lucifer strength."

"You're right," Alistair begrudgingly admitted after a moment. "We can't risk checking on her. You're positive you've hidden them well enough?"

"I've put every protection spell I know on them, and then some," Crowley replied. "If we're lucky, Azazel will be too busy running from his little hunter friend and rounding up his Children of the Corn to bother with my affairs. In the meantime, I'll bring in more souls."

"Fine by me," Alistair replied, unfolding his arms. "Keeps me busy, at any rate. You keep that girl of yours safe – last thing we need is the devil stirring the pot."