Dean POV

Damn it! Of all the possible stupid things Sammy could ever do? Trusting a demon? Just, damn it! How the hell could Sam ever think he could trust a demon? Demons lied. Demons were the enemy. Crowley was the enemy. Just... Just, damn it! Dean paced back and forth trying to figure out how they had found themselves in this situation. If he hadn't arrived at the church when he did would Sammy even still be alive? Fuck. He wasn't going to be able to get any sleep, he might as well check on how the list was coming along.

Crowley POV

A strange noise startled him out of his thoughts. Crowley glanced up and noted the light in the room beyond. For reasons beyond his understanding he hoped it was Sam. It wasn't exactly that he disliked Dean so much as he felt he could understand Sam better. It was Sam's blood that was coursing through his veins, albeit temporarily. Crowley frowned at the thought. Why did he care so much that it was temporary? The shelves parted and Dean stood before him in the doorway.

"So how's the list coming?"

Crowley gave a mental sigh, of course it was Dean.

"I. uh, I haven't actually started."

"Well get starting."

Crowley gave another mental sigh and shook his head. Get starting? Well Dean certainly had a way with words even if he wasn't much of a conversationalist. Why couldn't it have been Sam, Crowley wondered. What are you, sentimental? Damn it, Crowley thought. He was just getting used to not having the voice around.

"You should know Abbadon will want to take you down," he informed Dean.

"Yeah, well, you leave Abbadon to us and get started on the list. Like now."

"Abbadon isn't easily dismissed," he persisted. If he couldn't make Dean understand then Sam was in danger. And why do you care? Crowley shook his head trying to dismiss the voice.

"You will finish that list," Dean insisted.

"I didn't say I wouldn't."

"Now."

Rolling his eyes Crowley sighed heavily.

"You having second thoughts?"

"Bite me."

"Oh, I'll do more than bite you," Dean assured him.

Glancing up, Crowley had just enough time to be worried for his safety before Dean's fist collided with his face.

Sam POV

Blinking several times Sam looked around trying to remember where he was. No matter how much time he spent here he never thought of the bunker as 'home'. Waking up anywhere that was not the Impala always left him disoriented for a few moments. Sam groaned. What did it say about him that he felt like a car was more of a home than anything with walls? Shaking his head Sam sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Not quite ready to face his brother Sam wondered what to do. He could always check on how the list was coming along he supposed.

As his thoughts shifted to the newly (mostly) reformed demon Sam frowned. It wasn't that he doubted Crowley's desire to help, he just didn't understand it. Without having spoken the words the ritual wasn't complete. Why would Crowley, as a demon, want to do anything to help them? He wasn't going to get any answers sitting here. Shoving himself off the bed Sam stretched until he heard his back pop. No point in postponing things. The sooner he checked in with Crowley the sooner they could get to more important things.

Crowley POV

If he had the strength he would have lifted his head defiantly and glared when he heard the noise in the next room. At this point that required much more effort than he was willing to expend. One round not enough, Crowley thought angrily. Fine, bring on round two! I can take anything you can dish out. When the shelves parted Crowley steadfastly refused to give Dean the satisfaction of acknowledging him. Instead he pointedly ignored the other man's arrival.

As the seconds ticked away curiosity finally got the better of him. Tilting his head slightly Crowley opened one eye. Well, he tried to at least. He managed to break the clotted blood almost gluing it shut but the swelling didn't allow for the eye to open much. Being mostly human really sucked. When he saw Sam instead of Dean Crowley froze. A beating he could take but the look in Sam's eyes...

"What happened?"

"What's it to you?"

"Dean," Sam asked.

Closing his eyes Crowley refused to even dignify that question with an answer.

"For what it's worth I'm sorry," Sam said quietly.

Crowley's brow creased in confusion. Opening his eyes he stared at the younger of the two brothers. Sorry? What the hell was he supposed to say to that? 'Yeah, no worries. Your brother worked me over but it's all good now. Thanks for the concern.' The words were on the tip of his tongue but Crowley couldn't force himself to say them. When Sam took a step forward Crowley involuntarily flinched backward and Sam stopped moving.

"Come to finish what your brother started," Crowley spat out angrily.

"I'm not here to hurt you, Crowley."

"Whatever, just get on with it. I have better things to do than play punching bag to you two."

"I seriously didn't come down here to hurt you. I only wanted to check on the list."

The list. Of course.

"Sorry I haven't finished that yet. Been a bit busy," Crowley replied snidely.

"I can see that," Sam replied moving closer. "Are you, uh, are you okay?"

"Fan-bloody-tastic, thanks for asking," Crowley grumbled. Damn his head was killing him.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Yeah, you could take these bloody chains off and let me go."

Sam glanced down to Crowley's wrists and frowned. Confused Crowley followed Sam's gaze. The chains binding his wrists cut into his skin painfully and had broken the skin along the edges. It wasn't bad but it stung like a bitch when he tried to bend his wrists. Crowley looked back up to Sam's face and waited.

"Looks painful," Sam said without taking his eyes off of Crowley's wrists.

Crowley's brow furrowed. "Uh..."

"I could loosen them," Sam offered finally looking up.

Crowley blinked a few times trying to figure out what was happening. "Why," he asked suspiciously.

"Just thought you might appreciate it," Sam answered with a shrug.

A Winchester... Doing some thing nice... For a demon... Crowley tried to wrap his head around that thought.

"Here, let me see them," Sam ordered extending a hand.

Too confused not to comply Crowley obeyed and held his wrists out. By all rights Sam should be demanding he finish the list not doing... whatever the hell he was doing. After everything Crowley had done to these two why would one of them want to do anything nice for him? Crowley stayed absolutely still as Sam loosened the shackles. When Sam was done he gently lowered Crowley's hands to the table and took a step back.

"Better?"

Unable to speak Crowley nodded woodenly.

"I have to go talk to Dean, you might want to get started on the list."

Crowley gave another nod and watched as Sam left.

What. The. Hell.

Sam POV

"You're up. How are you feeling?"

"Um, alright I suppose," Sam answered. Honestly he still wasn't feeling so hot but he wasn't going to tell his brother that. Dean would totally over-react and try to treat him like some kind of invalid.

"You suppose," Dean asked raising an eyebrow.

"I'm fine Dean. Hey, we need to talk."

"So talk."

"Is there any particular reason Crowley looks like he just participated in a cage match?"

"You went to see Crowley?"

"Why not? You did."

"He had it coming Sam. It was no more than he deserved."

"He's chained Dean. He can't even defend himself."

"Damn it Sam, why are you taking up for him?"

"Maybe because beating the holy hell out of someone who's helpless is beneath us," Sam answered hotly. "Or at least beneath me."

"He really did brainwash you, didn't he?"

"No, Dean, he didn't. I just happen to know right from wrong."

"Have you just forgotten everything he's done in the past?"

"I don't see how that justifies beating someone bloody who can't defend theirself."

"Since when has some thing like that ever stopped him?"

"He's a demon Dean."

"Exactly my point, Sam, he's a demon. Nice to know you haven't forgotten that."

"I haven't forgotten anything, I just thought we were better than that."

"What the hell happened in that church?"

"What?"

"When you went in there you were my brother. Now I'm not sure who you are any more."

"I'm still me, I just didn't forgot what we were doing there. We were curing a demon, Dean. Making him human."

"Well in case you haven't realized this yet, we failed Sam. Hell's still open and Crowley's still a demon!"

"You weren't there! You didn't see him at the end. He's different!"

"He's a demon Sam! Period. He'll say anything if he thinks you'll let him go."

"Has he even asked to be let go? Think about Dean. Crowley's been nothing but cooperative since we brought him here."

"Yeah? Then where's the list?"

"I'm working on that," Sam shot back.

"You're working on that," Dean asked cocking an eyebrow.

"I'm telling you he's different. Why can't you just trust me on this?"

"Because he's Crowley."

"Would it kill you to give him a chance to prove me right?"

"Yeah, Sammy, it actually might."

"He's powerless and bound. Can't you give me one chance, just one, to prove I'm right?"

"And when he turns on you?"

"Then I'll admit you were right. Damn it Dean, just give me one chance!"

"Fine, but the second he slips up I'm knifing him!"

"Fine but not one second before!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Turning on his heels Sam angrily stalked off. Entering his room he slammed the door behind himself. Stalking over to the bed he dropped down onto it and stared at the ceiling. Fuck! Why wouldn't Dean just trust him? Maybe Crowley was still a demon but that didn't justify beating him to a pulp when he couldn't defend himself. So far Crowley hadn't done anything to warrant such treatment. After what happened in the church Sam was willing to let Crowley have the benefit of the doubt.

Crowley POV

Crowley stared at the paper and sighed. Writing in crayon took up more space than a pen or pencil would have. The list of names covered both the front and back and still wasn't complete. He was going to need more paper. Until he got more there wasn't much else he could do. Picking up the crayon Crowley picked at it until he had it peeled off paper surrounding the crayon. He let out another sigh and put the crayon and its label down. When he heard footsteps approaching his head shot to the doorway. Sam?

When the door opened and Dean stared at him Crowley felt his hope die. Dropping his head and stared at the table. Sam had said he needed to talk to Dean. Of course after that conversation Dean would return to beat on him again. Maybe Dean would save them all a lot of hassle and just kill him, Crowley hoped. Like he could get that lucky.

"Not the hands," Crowley stated tiredly.

"What?"

"I said not the hands," he reiterated slightly louder. "If you break my fingers I can't finish the list."

Dean walked forward and Crowley pushed the paper across the table without looking up at him.

"I didn't have enough room. I need more paper," Crowley stated quietly.

"Just how many demons do you have possessing people?"

Having never actually consider the number Crowley did some quick math.

"If none are dead? Three hundred two and approximately forty or so more who consider themselves 'free-lance'."

"Free-lance?"

"They don't think I know they're working to undermine me." Crowley shrugged. "There wasn't any reason to kill them yet. I figured you would want their names as well." Unable to stand the silence he began to pick at the table. "So, uh, if you could get me some more paper..."

"Dean?"

Crowley froze at the sound of Sam's voice.

"What are you doing here," Sam asked.

"Checking on how the list was coming along. What are you doing here," Dean countered.

"I told you I would get the list."

Crowley didn't move as he heard the footsteps entering the room.

"Yeah, well, apparently we're going to need more paper," Dean stated.

Crowley bit his lip. He could care less what Dean thought of him but for some reason the thought of Sam knowing how many demons he had possessing people hurt. There was a low whistle and Crowley bit down on his lip harder. He felt his lip split and tasted blood. When someone placed a hand on his shoulder he flinched away.

"Hey?"

He sighed in relief at the sound of Sam's voice. Sam's presence soothed him on some level and dispelled the nagging voice reminding him of all of his faults and flaws. Despite that he didn't dare look up, too afraid of what he might find if he looked into Sam's eyes.

"I need more paper," he stated quietly.

"We'll get some later, okay?"

Crowley nodded not trusting himself to speak again.

"Can you look at me?"

Crowley took a deep breath and finally lifted his head to meet Sam's face.

"We're going to take care of some of your injuries, okay?"

Crowley frowned as Sam set a first-aid kit on the table and opened it.

"Why?"

Sam looked up from the contents of the first-aid kit. "Why what?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"You're still mostly human and you couldn't use your power with those bindings on even if you weren't. Since you can't heal that means we have to treat your wounds."

"No," Crowley stated simply.

Sam blinked at him and frowned. "No to what?"

"I don't want you to treat me," Crowley said glaring at Sam.

"Why?"

Crowley shook his head. It would be hard enough to explain it to Sam without Dean here. With Dean here? There was no way he wanted to give Dean anything else to use against him.

"Crowley?"

"No Sam."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to," he insisted.

"Why?"

Crowley set his jaw and stubbornly refused to answer.

"Please?"

Closing his eyes he dropped his head as he felt his resolve ebbing away. "Please don't," he pleaded quietly.

"Hey, you heard him. He doesn't want to be treated," Dean stated.

"Why Crowley," Sam insisted.

Crowley merely shook his head.

"Answer me. Please?"

It was the please that undid him. He couldn't help himself. As much as he was loathe to give Dean any more ammunition he couldn't stand Sam begging. "Not worth it," Crowley muttered.

"What?"

"Said I'm not worth it," he repeated slightly louder. "All the things I've done? All the people I've hurt? I don't deserve the help."

"Deserved or not, you need the help. Now look at me so I can get started," Sam ordered.

Nodding slightly and without opening his eyes Crowley raised his head. When hands touched his face Crowley almost jerked away. Somehow he managed to keep still and let Sam treat him. Sam's hands were gentle as washed away the blood and tended to the wounds. What did I ever do to deserve this, Crowley wondered. He did his best not to be comforted by Sam's efforts but failed miserably. No one had gone out of their way to take care of him in a very, very long time.

When Sam finished treating Crowley's face Crowley opened his eyes to watch the other man work. Sam was thorough, methodical and efficient. He was obviously practiced at treating various injuries. As Sam continued Crowley let his gaze drift to Dean. The second he made eye contact with the older brother Crowley flinched involuntarily.

"Sorry," Sam said softly without looking up.

Dean continued to glare at Crowley as if daring him to say some thing. Obviously Dean was pissed that Sam was treating him. Crowley wanted to tell Dean it wasn't his fault and if he had his way Sam wouldn't be treating him. Wisely Crowley didn't utter a word. He went back to watching Sam work instead. Time passed slowly before Sam finally started repacking the first-aid kit. Crowley was actually starting to feel better in a way he couldn't place but knew didn't have anything to do with the first-aid.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"No problem," Sam told him with a sad smile.

"Sam can I talk to you outside," Dean interrupted.

Just like that, whatever spell Sam had woven dissipated.

Sam POV

"What the hell Sam?"

"Now what Dean," Sam snapped.

"You want to tell me what's going on?"

"What are you talking about," Sam asked thoroughly confused.

"Crowley cooperating? You giving first-aid to flipping demon? What the hell?"

"First, I told you Crowley would cooperate you just didn't listen to me. Second, I had to give him first-aid because of you. That's what the hell. I told you to give him a chance."

"I still don't trust him."

"I'm not asking you to trust him I'm asking you to trust me."

Dean shook his head and began pacing. Sam crossed his arms and waited for his brother to continue. Finally Dean stopped pacing and stood turned to face him.

"It just feels wrong."

There was no good response to that so Sam continued to wait.

"I mean, it's Crowley," Dean continued. "If there's anyone less deserving of trust..."

"He's different right now. I don't know how or why. Hell I don't even know if it's going to last but for now he's more human than demon."

"You know the blood's going to dissipate and the the ritual wasn't completed. This isn't going to last Sammy."

"Even if it doesn't last we could use all the help we can get. Especially with Cass who knows where right now."

"Cas is a big boy, he can handle himself. If he needs anything he knows he can always call us. What we need to be worried about right now is what we're going to do with Crowley."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm assuming you wouldn't appreciate it if I killed him after he's done with the list."

"Are you serious? Dean he hasn't done anything worth killing him over since we left the church. Not only that he's cooperating with us. With the ritual incomplete it's just a matter of time before his demon blood reasserts its self. Don't you think it'd be useful to have a demon working with us, especially when we have no idea what to do about the angels? Not to mention that we have no clue who would end up running hell if we did take Crowley out."

"You said it yourself. It's just a matter of time before his demon blood reasserts its self. If we take him in and get all cozy with him how are we going to know if we can really trust him? What if he suddenly decides it's not worth it anymore? What if he starts making plans to kill us or hand us over to some of his demon friends or any number of other equally crappy things?"

Sam started to respond but stopped. Dean did have a valid point. There was no guarantee Crowley's sudden change in attitude would be permanent. Once the human blood ran its course there was a very real possibility that he might revert back to his old self. Then what? They needed to find a way to ensure Crowley wouldn't revert back.

"I have a plan but you're not going to like it."

"I'm not going to like any plan that doesn't involve ganking that slippery bastard."

"Right now he feels... confused? I don't know, guilty maybe? The point is that right now he's experiencing human emotions. Emotions he hasn't felt since who knows when. I say we start there."

"And do what Sam, have a group therapy session? Talk about our feelings?"

"Build on them. Do things things to reinforce the positive emotions. Make him want to keep feeling good, or happy or whatever."

Dean just stared at Sam like he had lost his mind.

"Look threatening him isn't going to work. If all he gets is the negative shit then why would he want to continue feeling that way? We need to give him a reason to want to feel; a reason not to shake off what little humanity he has so far."

"So what, we take him out for ice cream?"

Sam stared at Dean intrigued at the suggestion. "Actually that's not a bad idea."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay, not the ice cream part but the outings," Sam mused.

"Outings? You want to take Crowley on field trips? Are you out of your mind?"

"It's actually not a bad idea. I mean we could start small, you know. Like just walking outside or some thing."

Rubbing his forehead Dean looked through his fingers to Sam for a while before dropping his arm. "Let me get this straight. You want to take Crowley, King of Hell, one of the most conniving demons we've ever met, for walks?"

"Well, what do you suggest, Dean?"

"Me? I suggest we gank the bastard."

"You promised Dean."

"Yeah, well I was wrong. Sammy nothing short of that ritual is going to reform a demon. Period. Hell I'm not even sure if I believe the ritual would have worked."

"I'll start small and we'll see what happens. You did promise me you would wait until he slipped up first."

"Fine, we wait, for now. I swear to you though, one slip up, no more. Understood?"

"Understood."

"And the chains stay on!"

"Fine," Sam agreed rolling his eyes.

Crowley POV

Reaching over to his other arm Crowley slowly ran his fingers over the gauze covering the wrist. Giving first-aid to a prisoner? Yeah, okay, he could understand that. You didn't want a prisoner to die on you until you got everything you could from them. He would like to think there was more to it but Sam had been so professional; doing what was needed as quickly as possible. It would be highly stupid to read any more into it than that. The bindings were the most puzzling part. If it was solely about keeping your prisoner alive why worry about their comfort?

"For what it's worth I'm sorry... I'm not here to hurt you Crowley."

Crowley shook his head to clear it. It had to be a trick. Good cop, bad cop? He would have thought the brothers were above that. Obviously they had to have some scheme up their sleeves he just couldn't figure out what it was. Facts Crowley, he ordered himself. Dean didn't want Sam to die. They couldn't close the gates of hell. Having a list of all demons walking the Earth would be the next best thing. Was that really all there was to this? And you thought, what, he cared about you? Bringing his hands up Crowley rubbed at his temples. Please just stop, he begged the voice.

Sam POV

Picking at his food Sam tried to think about where to start. In many ways this was like trying to teach a child, he mused. After his childhood Sam had never wanted children. He was terrified of the prospect actually. It wasn't as if he knew what a normal family should be like. Who in their right mind would let him raise a child? Glancing back at his food he realized he wasn't hungry anymore.

A thought struck Sam, was Crowley hungry? Was Crowley human enough to get hungry or did the demon blood still keep that from happening? Whatever, it was the gesture that counted. Deciding that it was as good a place to start as any Sam stood and began making a plate of food to take to Crowley. Snagging his own plate and a bottle of water on his way out Sam made his way down to the dungeon.

Opening the doors that led into the dungeon Sam walked in and set the plates down on the table. Crowley sat quietly with his arms crossed and scowl on his face. Sam refused to acknowledge the change in attitude as he went to grab a chair from the outer room. Setting the chair down Sam sat and finally looked to Crowley.

"Figured you might be hungry."

Crowley continued to scowl.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. Ignoring the attitude Sam picked up his fork and began eating.

"What's the plan, pretend to be my friend until you get what you want and then kill me?"

Sam looked back up and blinked a few times. "What?"

"We're not besties Sam, never were. What's with the buddy-buddy attitude."

Sam paused to give himself time to choose his words carefully. "It's just who I am," he said finally. "You're right we're not best friends so we haven't spent a lot of time around each other. I don't like seeing people hurt so I loosened the cuffs. I treated your injuries because it needed to be done." Sam shrugged. "It's nothing more complicated than that."

"Of course not," Crowley replied. "And of course it has nothing to do with getting the list either."

Sam gave Crowley a small half-smile. "Of course it does. If I said different you'd know I was lying. It's just that there's more to it than that."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and waited.

"I think everyone deserves a second chance. I'm willing to believe you've changed until you prove me different. That's all."

"You really expect me to believe that?"

"Honestly? No. I expect it's going to be a while before you believe I'm telling you the truth." Sam gave another shrug and went back to eating.

"If you're so willing to give me a second chance then why the chains?"

"Because I realize what I'm saying is difficult to believe. I'm willing to give you a second chance. I just don't want you to do some thing you might regret before you realize I'm telling the truth."

For a moment the two of them sat watching each other.

"Why," Crowley finally asked.

"Why what?"

"Why would you want to give me a second chance?"

"Told you, I think everyone deserves a second chance. Your food's going to get cold," Sam informed Crowley.

"Not hungry," Crowley stated, pushing the plate away. "I have enough of myself left that I still don't need to worry about food."

"Like I said, suit yourself." Sam shrugged and went back to eating.

He should have expected this he realized. Of course Crowley would become defensive if people were 'too nice'. He was, after all, a demon. They were just going to have to find a way to push through this.

"What about Dean?"

Sam frowned at the question as he thought about how to answer it. "What about him," he asked to buy some time to come up with a good answer.

"How does he feel about your little experiment here?"

"It's not an experiment. I told you-"

"Yes, yes, second chances. Fine, I'll rephrase the question. How does Dean feel about you wanting to give me a second chance?"

"I didn't ask him," Sam said honestly. Bringing Dean into this right now would not help matters, he had to change the subject. "How do you feel about it?"

"Avoiding the question," Crowley asked raising an eyebrow.

"Not at all. I answered the question and asked one of my own."

"You didn't answer it, you carefully avoided it. Don't lie to me Sam."

"I told you I didn't ask how he felt about it. That is an answer."

"Semantics," Crowley stated waving a hand absently. "You know what I meant."

"I answered what you asked. What about you? Are you avoiding my question?"

"Whatever, your food's getting cold," Crowley growled.

Shrugging dispassionately Sam picked up his fork. This was going to be harder than he had anticipated. He had to find a way to break through the defensiveness before he could make any progress. Neither said a word as Sam finished eat. When he was done Sam grabbed both plates and stood.

Crowley POV

"Leaving so soon," Crowley asked.

Sam turned back and eyed him carefully. "I don't have to."

Crowley tried to find a sarcastic response to that. Before he could come up with one Sam returned to the chair and sat back down. Crowley felt some thing that felt suspiciously like relief flood through him. I could care less if he left, he told himself. It's just boring sitting in here with nothing to do.

"How are you feeling," Sam asked breaking into Crowley's thoughts.

"Cramped," Crowley bit out desperately trying to cling to his attitude of indifference.

"We could go for a walk," Sam suggested.

Crowley stared at Sam dumbfounded. "A walk," he asked skeptically.

"Yeah, if you want."

.

Crowley inspected the room just outside his dungeon. Very utilitarian. Apparently whoever built this wasn't too big on comfort.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Don't give me that innocent routine. You know what I mean."

"Letting you walk around?"

"That's part of it."

"You said your muscles were getting cramped."

"So?"

"So I thought you might want to stretch them a little."

"I can't decide if you're missing the point on purpose or if you're seriously that thick."

Sam's brows knitted together and he seemed genuinely confused. Crowley fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Why are you giving me a 'second chance'?"

"I told you-"

"I know what you said. You and I both know there's more to it than that. So once again, why?"

Dean POV

"So once again, why?"

Dean stopped in his tracks at the sound of Crowley's voice. What the hell was he doing out of the dungeon? Damn it Sammy.

"I told you, I'm willing to believe you've changed until you prove me different."

"That's a risky proposal Moose. For all you know I could be plotting against you as we speak."

"Are you?"

"If I was why would I admit to it?"

Exactly, Dean thought.

"If you were plotting against us why would you bring it up at all?"

The silence lasted so long Dean almost stuck his head around the corner to see what was happening.

"You can't trust a demon Sam."

Dean might agree with the sentiments but it was odd hearing Crowley voice those words. What's your game, Dean wondered.

"Crowley." There was a brief pause before Sam spoke again. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"You can't trust demons. I'm a demon, I should know."

"You're not the average demon Crowley."

"Thanks for the compliment," Crowley bit out sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Sammy bit out imitating Crowley's sarcasm. "Despite what you think I do trust you."

"You shouldn't! Damn it Sam you're going to get yourself killed if you keep being this stupid. You're not invincible!"

"And you're not going to do anything to hurt me."

"You don't know that!"

"Being human is about having faith. I have faith you're better than that."

"I don't!"

Crowley POV

Breathing heavily Crowley glared at the younger Winchester. He had to find a way to make Sam understand. Trying to befriend him was dangerous and would only get Sam killed or worse in the end. If anything happened to Sam... Do not go there, he told himself. The sudden rage dissolved. Walking to the nearest chair Crowley slumped down into it. Placing his arms on the table he dropped his head into his hands. After a few moments a hand gently rested on his shoulder.

"Hey?"

"Leave me alone," Crowley mumbled shrugging off Sam's hand from his shoulder.

"What's wrong? Talk to me."

"Leave it alone."

"You know I'm not going to do that."

"Damn it Sam stay away from me!"

"I just-"

"You think I don't know what you're trying to do? Play nice with Crowley. Let him think you're friends. He won't know the difference."

"That's not-"

"Well I can't do it anymore! I can't stand you coddling me anymore! Just stop it, stop pretending you care what happens to me! I've already agreed to give you the list, there's no reason to keep pretending you care."

"I care," Sam said quietly.

Crowley refused to answer and for a while the two sat in silence. When the pains struck Crowley couldn't stop from doubling over. Sam was at his side instantly trying to figure out what was wrong. Crowley tried to wave off Sam's concern but it was too much effort.

"What is it?"

Wrapping his arms around himself he shook as the cravings took their toll.

"Talk to me Crowley, what's happening?"

"Blood," Crowley ground out.

"Blood? My blood?"

"Human," Crowley manged just before the shakes got too violent.

"I have to get a syringe. I'll be right back, okay?"

"D-Don't..." Grimacing Crowley tried his best to finish.

"Don't what?"

"L...L... Lee..." Damn it!

"Don't leave?"

Instead of trying to speak Crowley merely nodded.

"I'll only be gone a second. I promise I'll be right back."

Crowley shook his head. "N-N-N-"

"If you need blood I have to get a syringe."

Crowley just continued to shake his head.

Sam POV

"Sam?"

"Dean," Sam asked surprised at his brother's sudden presence.

"Go, I'll stay with Crowley til you get back."

Sam stared at Dean skeptically. Before he could answer Dean he felt a tug on his shirt. Sam looked down and saw Crowley, one fist in cling to Sam's shirt, frantically shaking his head. Reaching down he placed a hand on Crowley's shoulder to reassure him. Sam glanced back to Dean.

"You stay, I'll go," Dean told Sam.

Nodding Sam bent to the task of comforting Crowley the best he could.

"Hang in there, he'll be right back. It'll be over soon," he soothed.

Dean POV

Why am I doing this again, Dean thought as he raced back to Sam's room. Opening the bedroom door he glanced around and realized he didn't know where Sammy had stashed the kit. Damn it! Alright, if I was Sammy where would I stash paraphernalia? Dean began ransacking the room. After several minutes with no luck he pulled out his cell and dialed his brother. Finally Sammy answered.

"Yeah?"

"Where are the needles Sammy?"

"Aren't they on the nightstand?"

"If they were do you think I'd be calling you?"

"Shit, let me think."

"A little faster Sam."

"I'm trying, I'm trying," Sam muttered. "I got it. In the closet. I hung up the shirt I was wearing, Maybe they're still in the pocket."

Dean rushed to the closet and inspected the contents.

"Got it yet?"

"You have more clothes than any woman I've ever met." Dean pressed the phone between his shoulder and his ear to start checking pockets. "Any idea what the shirt looked like?"

"Uh, blue plaid."

Dean stared at the various blue plaid shirts in the closet. "You gotta be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing." Dean immediately began searching all the shirts. "It's not here."

"It has to be," Sam insisted.

"Yeah, well, it's not. I don't know what to tell you."

"Wait, check the closet. Top shelf, right side."

Reaching up Dean fumbled along the top side of the shelf.

Sam POV

"Shh, it'll be over soon."

"N-not... st... st...upid... H-h... ates me."

"Shh," Sam soothed. "Dean," Sam asked through the phone.

"Found 'em. On my way back."

"Sh-hood... hate... m-m-"

"Shh, no one hates you."

"D-D-D... Squ...irrel."

There was nothing he could say to that, Crowley was right. Dean was definitely not fond of the demon.

"Don't talk. I promise, just a little longer."

Dean rushed into the room all but out of breath. Holding out his hand Dean offered one of the needles from the kit. Grabbing the syringe Sam shoved one of his sleeves up and popped his hand against the veins inside his left elbow. When one finally responded up he wasted no time shoving the needle into the vein and drawing blood.

Crowley POV

So cold. The cold was the only thing that came close to touching the pain. Just let me die, Crowley pleaded. Please just kill me now and put me out of this misery. Still shaking violently Crowley barely noticed the prick from the needle. It wasn't until he felt the relief spreading that the worst of the shivers finally subsided.

"Hey!"

Moose?

"Stay with me. I need to know how you're feeling Crowley?"

'I just want to be loved.' "I just..."

"Shh," Sam whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"Love..."

"Crowley, focus," Sam demanded.

Right, focus. He could do that. If only it weren't so bloody cold in here.

"Crowley!"

"Cold," he murmured snuggling sideways into the warmth next to him.

Dean POV

"Okay what the hell was that?"

"I don't know, withdraws?" Sam took a sip of his beer.

Dean stared at his brother incredulously. "Not that part. The, the," Dean pause and waved a hand trying to find an adequate descriptor. "The snuggling."

Sputtering, Sam started to cough as he choked on the beer.

"You heard me," Dean insisted.

"Snuggling?"

"What else would you call it?"

"I wouldn't call it that!"

"Dude he was clinging to you more tightly than saran wrap."

"Only because of the shakes," Sam insisted.

Dean shook his head and took a swallow of his own beer. "Okay, so the question is, what are we going to do?"

"What do you mean," Sam asked eyeing him suspiciously.

"Well it's not like you can follow him around donating blood every time he breaks down," Dean said with a shrug.

"So what do you propose?"

"You know what I want to do," Dean told his brother.

"We are not killing him. You said-"

"I know what I said. That still doesn't answer the question, though."

"Damn it Dean, give him a chance. He's ..."

"Different?"

"You know what? He is. So let it go."

"He's a demon Sammy."

"I'm just saying-"

"Moose?"

Crowley. Damn it. "You're being paged," Dean informed his brother.

"Shut up," Sam complained.

"Sam?"

If it had been anyone else Dean might have had sympathy, but Crowley? Dean shook his head. What the hell? How could anyone trust Crowley?

Crowley POV

Gasping for breath Crowley's head shot up and he inspected his surroundings.

"Moose?"

Silence.

"Sam?"

Obviously someone had given him their blood. The familiarity of the feeling inferred that it had been Sam. Why, Crowley wondered. Why would he share something as precious as his blood with someone like me?

"Hey."

Looking up Crowley noted Sam sticking his head around the corner of the door.

"Hey," he answered.

"You doing better," Sam asked stepping into the room.

And just where am I, Crowley wondered. "Yeah." Crowley stretched testing his muscles. "You," he asked.

"I didn't feel bad to start with," Sam answered.

Crowley frowned. "No. I meant, was it you who... donated."

"The blood?"

"Yeah," Crowley clarified.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

"Where am I?"

"My room," Sam answered.

"Why," Crowley asked.

Sam shrugged. "Why not?"

"Because," Crowley stated uncomfortably, picking at the bedspread.

"Hey." Sam moved to sit on the bed and Crowley backed away self consciously. "Talk to me, what's up?"

"Nothing," Crowley muttered.

"It's obviously something," Sam observed. "Talk to me. Please?"

"I don't know," Crowley began. "I can't actually put it into words." His head shot up as he heard a small creak from the floorboards.

"Hey."

Crowley pressed his lips together and stared at the bedspread as Dean entered.

"Better," Dean asked.

Not taking his eyes off the bed Crowley nodded.

"Right, so how about we get back to where you're supposed to be?"

"Dean," Sam exclaimed exasperated.

"It's alright," Crowley stated quietly. "I understand how he feels. Honestly? I kind of feel better there."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Sighing heavily Crowley finally met Sam's eyes. "I don't fully trust myself. At least while I'm there I feel..." Crowley shrugged at a complete loss for how to express his feelings.

"Well, we're in agreement then."

"Dean."

"Oh come on Sammy, he wants to go back."

"You don't have to be so..."

"What? Happy about it?"

"Well yeah!"

"Come on Sammy!"

"Damn it Dean!"

As a hand closed around Crowley's wrist he panicked. Trying to blink out he was stunned when he couldn't. Cuffs, he remembered as he was jerked off the bed and onto his feet. Crowley stumbled and tried to regain his footing. Someone else grabbed his other arm and yanked him backward.

"Damn it Sammy!"

"Let go Dean!"

"You let go!"

"Stop," Crowley yelled. "Damn it I can't do this!"

Breathing heavily in the silence that followed Crowley took a few deep breathes to clear his head.

"You can't do what," Dean asked.

"You two," Crowley shot back. "And for your information you brother wouldn't be alive if it weren't for me! "

Dean's fingers dug into Crowley's wrist painfully.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"When that church was crumbling I protected your brother. I covered him and let the falling pieces hit me! And what did I get in return for protecting Sam? You, knocking me unconscious!"

"You were going to kill him!"

Crowley stared at Dean, kill Sam? Really?

"Dean-"

"No," Crowley said cutting off Sam. "If that's what he thinks , fine. Just remember when it's your turn-"

"You'll what? Kill me?"

Crowley shook his head. "Whatever. You think what you want, I'm going back to my prison now if you don't mind."

Jerking his wrist out of Dean's grip and his shoulder out of Sam's Crowley straightened and brushed a hand down his suit. Turning on his heals Crowley stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind himself. Inspecting the hallway he realized he didn't have an idea which direction to go, damn it!

Dean POV

"Damn it Dean, what the hell?"

Ignoring Sam Dean headed for the door.

"Dean!"

"Not now Sam," Dean shot back grabbing the door and yanking it open.

"Yes now." Sam grabbed Dean's shoulder and jerked he backward. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? You're the one getting buddy-buddy with a demon Sam! I can't believe you're seriously buying this act!"

"I don't believe it is an act."

"I'm only going to spell this out for you one more time. Crowley's a demon. Demons. Lie. Understand? I know you want to believe he had... a change of heart or whatever you want to call it but he's just a demon. You can't trust him Sammy!"

"Until he does some thing to prove different I'm going to believe he has changed!"

"Why? Can you at least answer that question?"

"Because he is a demon. How many people do you think have been willing to give Crowley a second chance?"

"I think it'd be hard to give someone a second chance when your dead."

"All I'm saying is everyone makes mistakes-"

"Mistakes?"

"Yes, mistakes. What if all it takes is one person giving him a second chance?"

"I'm not listening to this."

"I never gave up on you," Sam said quietly.

"Are you seriously comparing me to Crowley?"

"You two aren't that different actually."

"Excuse you? No, you know what? I don't want to hear it. I'm done, I'm just done."

Turning to leave Dean stormed out the door and ran straight into Crowley. Cursing shoved the demon out his way and kept walking.

Crowley POV

Crowley stared as Dean walked down the hallway. As much as he wanted to be angry at Dean he couldn't. He actually agreed with what Dean was saying. Hell, he had actually tried to tell Sam the same thing. Sam hadn't listened to him anymore than it seems he listened to Dean.

"Crowley?"

Taking a deep breath Crowley slowly released it and turned to face Sam.

"How much of that did you..."

"Hear?"

"Yeah."

Crowley bit his lip.

"So, all of it?"

"Look Sam, he's right. If there's anyone that knows anything about demons it's me."

"I am not giving up on you."

"Sam," Crowley huffed exasperated.

"No. You don't get out of this that easy. I'm going to prove to you you're worth a second chance if I have to drag you kicking and screaming."

Staring at Sam Crowley almost couldn't speak. "Why," he whispered.

"Because I believe in you. I told you, being human is about having faith."

"Why me? I don't deserve it."

"Everyone deserves a second chance."

"But I've done..."

"I know."

"No, I mean..." Damn it. Why was this so hard?

"I know."

"I don't understand Moose." Crowley winced at the nickname. "I mean Sam."

Sam actually smiled. "I know."

"Thank you," Crowley whispered.

"Anytime."

Dean POV

Okay so basically Sammy wasn't understanding. What the fuck did he have do to make his brother understand demons were bad? Why the hell did Sammy trust Crowley so much? Fuck, all he wanted to do was protect his brother. Damn Crowley. A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah," he called out to Sam.

The door opened and Crowley walked into the room.

"Uh, yeah. Don't speak. I just wanted to say you're right. Sam shouldn't trust me. I'm willing to do what it takes to make him not trust me if I knew what that was. You're right, of course, he shouldn't trust a demon. I just don't know how to make him not trust me. Well not without doing some thing I don't want to do." Crowley frowned.

"Why are you doing this?

Crowley stared at him confused.

"Oh please. Don't give me that innocent look. What's your deal, Crowley?"

"I want to protect Sam."

"You what?"

"I want to protect Sam. You want to protect Sam. I don't see a conflict here."

"Why?"

Crowley frowned. "Despite what you might think Sam's the only person who's ever given me a second chance. I owe him."

"You don't deserve a second chance."

"I know that."

Dean crossed his arms and stared at the demon.

"Deserved or not he's not going to let this go. Not unless I do something..." He cleared his throat. "Something I'm not going to do. And you should know I wouldn't hurt him, ever."

"I'm supposed to believe that?"

Shrugging Crowley started to walk around the room inspecting things. "I wouldn't believe me."

"Stop."

Crowley finished taking his step and stopped moving.

"Let's say I believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and remained silent.

"How could I know you wouldn't try to kill me?"

"You don't. I mean that's the point right? You don't trust me and I agree you shouldn't. The problem is how do we get Sam to see that?"

"Why do you want him to not trust you?"

"I wouldn't do anything to hurt Sam. I know you don't have a reason to believe me and every reason to doubt me but it's true." Crowley paused briefly. "For now."

"For now?"

"What happens if the blood wears off and I don't get more? We need to be realistic here. It's not like there's a charity set up to give blood to addicted demons and Sam can't donate forever. Besides if word gets out that I'm off my game you don't have any idea of the amount of other demons that would try to kill me. If anyone got in the way they'd be more than willing to kill that person as well. The longer I'm around Sam the more he's in danger."

"So why shouldn't I kill you?"

Crowley frowned and remained silent for a minute.

"Actually you probably should," Crowley finally answered.

"What?"

"I mean, I don't want you to, but maybe it's for the best?"

"What's your game Crowley?"

"No game. I told you I want to protect Sam."

"Why?"

"You're his brother, you've known him your whole life and you still don't understand him do you? Sam wants to see the good. I, have no good left. The world needs conflict. It needs something to fight against. Something to unite against. That would be me. But it also needs the good. That's where Sam comes in."

"And me?"

"You're the realist. You keep everyone honest."

"So where does that leave us?"

"Assuming you value Sam's opinion of you and you're not going to kill me?"

"Yeah, assuming that."

Crowley shrugged. "Figuring out how to get Sam to give up on me."

Dean POV / Early the next morning

Shaking his head Dean tried not to roll his eyes. Two brothers who's job it was to find and kill all things evil watching the King of Hell watching ducks. This seriously had to be some kind of fucked up dream. What the absolute fuck? His cell phone ringing broke into his thoughts. Grabbing his cell he checked the caller I.D. Cass?

"Hey what's up," he asked as he hit talk.

"I made it to town. Can one of you come pick me up?"

"About that. We have a complication."

"What kind of complication?"

"Sammy seems to have made it his life's goal to rehabilitate the King of Hell."

"Wait, what's Crowley doing with you?"

"Currently? Watching ducks."

"What?"

"You heard me. Watching ducks."

"Is that some kind of metaphor for some thing else?"

"It's a metaphor for Crowley's standing on a bridge watching ducks. Look, tell me where you are and one of us will come get you."

"I just passed the city limit sign. I'm on foot for now so it'll be a while before I get to a business."

"Keep walking, we'll pick you up as soon as possible."

Crowley POV

"So how are you doing?"

Crowley shrugged without responding.

"Crowley?"

"Just not talkative right now."

"Understandable."

"So, ducks?"

"It's not the ducks."

"Okay. Care to elaborate?"

"Not really."

"Okay."

Shaking his head Crowley glanced over to Sam. "It's life."

"Life?"

Crowley shook his head and turned back to the river beneath them. As early as it was there were no other people, which he supposed had been the point. He had been honest when he told Sam it wasn't specifically about the ducks, it was about life. They had started on the far side of the bridge. Sitting on a bench staring at the unused playground equipment until Crowley couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't put a finger on why the sight troubled him in the beginning. Standing Crowley took off walking with the brothers following close behind. As a duck flew past Crowley stopped to watch it land below them. They had been standing on the bridge ever since. Crowley had since come to realize why the empty playground troubled him. It was devoid of life. Empty. Barren. Waiting.

"Trip's over."

Crowley felt his heart sink a little. Truthfully he had known this wouldn't last. With a sigh he turned and waited for the brothers to start back to the car.

"What's up," Sam asked.

"Time to go, we have a pickup to make."

"Cass?"

"Bingo."

Crowley froze, the angel? To the best of his knowledge Castiel hated him. Maybe he could find a way to use this to his advantage. Maybe with Castiel backing Dean...

"Move it or lose it Crowley," Dean ordered.

.

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