*Dean POV*
"Sammy," Dean called out as he descended the stairs. The lights were on and the shelves that hid the dungeon were open. Making his way over Dean peered into the dungeon and sighed. Sammy was sitting in the chair opposite where Crowley normally sat staring into space. Walking over Dean stopped just behind his brother.
"Sam?"
"I don't understand it."
"He was desperate to make reparations Sammy." Dean walked around the table and sat in front of his brother. "He just wanted to do some thing nice for people he's hurt."
"Why hurt himself like that?"
"He doesn't see it like that Sammy. He's a demon. Pain he knows. If he can push through the pain then he can help people."
"You don't believe that."
"Cass believes it, I believe him."
"How is Cass?"
"Better than Crowley." Sam instantly locked eyes with him and Dean waited.
"What's wrong with Crowley?"
Dean shrugged. "Personally I think it's self-pity."
"Dean," Sam growled.
"I know he's upset you're pissed at him."
"I'm pissed at him because I'm trying to teach him the value of life and it's like he doesn't care if lives or dies."
"Did you ever stop to think about how hard he's trying to learn what you're teaching?"
"What?"
"Think about it Sam. He's willing to do everything you've asked. He made a list of demons he has possessing people. He appologized to Kevin. He offered to try his best to heal people and endured amazing amounts of pain to learn how. He keeps trying to get you to give up on him because he's scared he'll hurt you if he turns full demon again. I'd say he's learning the value of life remarkably fast for someone who's been a demon as long as him."
"I never thought about it like that," Sam admitted.
"Look, far be it from me to hand out compliments to Crowley but I'm actually starting to believe him."
"Really?"
"You didn't see his face when you left. It was like he'd failed because he couldn't do some thing demons weren't meant to do. He's pretty sure you hate him right now."
Sam frowned. "I don't hate him."
"Maybe you should tell him that."
"Where is he?"
"At last check? Still in your room. Cass thinks Crowley will probably stay there unless he thinks you'd want him to leave."
"Did you put the chains back on?"
"No."
"No?"
"No point. Told you, he's in the middle of a pity-party. Pretty sure we're safe."
"I probably should go talk to him."
Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Should he tell Sam? Sam seemed to be making actual progress with Crowley. If he told Sam would that change his brother's attitude toward the demon? Someone stepped into the doorway and Dean glanced up to see what was here. Crowley, he thought. Of fucking course.
"I could come back later," Crowley said quietly.
Sam jumped slightly and turned.
"Hey," Sam greeted him.
"Hey," Crowley repeated back.
"No point in coming back later. I need to show you to your new room," Dean said standing up.
"New room?" Crowley's brow furrowed in confusion.
"Yep, follow me."
As they made their way through the living area Cass glanced over to them. Crowley kept his eyes down and studiously refused to meet the angels gaze as they passed. Dean led them up the stairs and down the hall past his own room. He stopped one door short of Sam's room and opened the door. "I'll get you some clean sheets but you're making your own bed," he informed Crowley.
"Why," Crowley asked.
"Because I'm not making your bed," Dean answered.
"No. Why are you doing this?"
"Because I feel like it. Shut your trap and roll with it Crowley."
Crowley nodded once and dropped his eyes again.
"Crowley," Sam said quietly.
Crowley slowly lifted his eyes and met Sam's.
"How are the cravings?"
Crowley bit his lip.
"New stipulation," Dean announced. "You tell someone before the cravings get bad. If you don't I'm putting the chains back on you."
Crowley opened his mouth and looked like he was fixing to argue with him. Dean crossed his arms and waited. Finally Crowley nodded assent.
"Now then," Crowley said softly. "Too much longer and I won't be able to hide the shakes."
"Sammy?"
"I'll get the kit," Sam replied before taking off.
"Why are you doing this?"
Dean thought about the question before answering. "Because I care about Sammy too," he said finally. "While he's gone there is one more thing."
Crowley looked at him intently.
"If you do anything, anything, to hurt him I will kill you and even he won't be able to stop me."
"Understood."
*Sam POV*
Sam reacted by instinct and, before he even knew why, he was sitting up in bed pointing a gun at the person before him. Tilting his head slighly he squinted in the darkness. Finally he uncocked the gun and lowered it. "Crowley?"
"Sorry."
"What are you doing here?"
"Couldn't sleep."
"Blood," Sam asked, stifling a yawn.
"No."
Sam checked the clock next to the bed. "It's four-thirty in the morning Crowley. You're going to have be a little more blunt for me to figure out what's going on."
"I was just wondering."
"More blunt Crowley. More informative."
"I was planning on sneaking past and sleeping in your chair."
"What?"
"The chair. I couldn't sleep in my room so I just figured... I mean I was hoping you wouldn't mind..."
Sam groaned and fell back onto his bed. Shoving the gun under his pillow he scooted to the far edge of the bed. "I mind. No sleeping in the chair. Take that side of the bed," Sam muttered before rolling onto his side.
.
Opening his eyes Sam realized instantly he was way to hot. Trying to throw the blanket off he was momentarily puzzled when it wouldn't budge. Shifting Sam looked back over his shoulder. Snuggled right behind him, sleeping on top of the blankets was Crowley. Shaking his head Sam did his best to slip out of the bed without waking up the sleeping demon. Grabbing clothes Sam slipped out of his room and closed the door quietly. Making his way to the bathroom he showered and dressed. As he finally exited the bathroom he ran into Dean.
"Hey."
"Mm shower first, then conversation," Dean answered groggily.
Shoving his way past Sam Dean slammed the bathroom door behind himself.
Smiling Sam headed downstairs to start breakfast. Usually Dean cooked breakfast because he was the first one awake. But then, usually Sam didn't wake up to a demon plastered against him. Pausing Sam frowned at the thought. He replayed the conversation from last night. Adding the conversation to the other puzzle pieces he had he still wasn't sure what was going on with Crowley. They were going to have to talk about this pretty soon.
*Crowley POV*
Crowley yawned as he stretched. It had been so long since he'd had a decent night's sleep. Opening his eyes he stared at the desk. Frowning he realized he shouldn't be on the side of the bed closest to the desk. He had started out on the side closer to the doorway. Somehow he had ended up on Sam's side of the bed. Turning Crowley checked the other side but there was still no Sam. Had he moved onto Sam's side after Sam woken up? He had a vague sense of trepidation at the prospect that Sam had been in the bed when Crowley had scooted this far over. Was that way Sam had left without waking him? Before he could question it there was a light knock at the door.
Crowley froze unsure whether or not to answer the knock.
"Crowley?"
Castiel? Standing Crowley made his way over and opened the door.
"Hey," Castiel stated. "Breakfast time if you're hungry."
"Thanks. How did you know I was here?"
Castiel smiled. "Dean offered to come get you and the look on Sam's face made it clear he would rather not have that happen. It was an educated guess that it was because you weren't in your room at the moment."
"Can I ask you some thing?"
"If you need."
"When I, when we... connected..."
"How much did I get?"
"Yeah."
"Probably everything you didn't want me to know and more."
Crowley winced at the thought. "Dean?"
"Dean knows you really care about Sam. Really care. I'm not sure if he's ready to accept it just yet though."
"Sam?"
Castiel sighed before answering. "Neither I nor Dean have said anything to Sam. I really do think you should tell him."
"No. Castiel, about the healing."
"What about it?"
"Maybe we could practice again."
"Out of the question."
"Food's getting cold," Dean called up to them.
"Sam cooked breakfast today," Castiel informed him.
Crowley couldn't help but smile.
As the pair made their way into the kitchen Sam glanced up and frowned. Crowley stopped moving as Castiel continued to the table. Was Sam mad he had shown up last night? He knew he should have stayed in his own room. He just couldn't take being alone with the voice in his head any longer. Sleep offered no reprieve as it only brought the nightmares. In the end he hadn't been able to stop himself. Sam's presence kept the voice quiet and had allowed him at least one good night of sleep.
"You going to eat or just stand there," Dean asked.
All three people at the table were staring at him as he stood there. Castiel glanced at the other two before making a tiny nodding motion to the open chair. Finally Crowley was able to get his feet to move. Sitting down at the table he stared at the plate of food in front of him.
"Didn't know what you liked so I gave you a little bit of everything," Sam told him.
"I'm sure it's fine," Crowley answered.
"Sam's better at breakfast than I am but I make a better burger," Dean said smiling.
"Dean usually gets stuck making breakfast because he wakes up earlier," Sam added.
"Not my fault you sleep too long Sleeping Beauty."
"Shut up Dean," Sam said with a smile.
Crowley hid his smile by taking a bite of eggs. As the breakfast passed the other three made small talk and he watched them. There was an easy feeling about the whole situation. Having never had anything similar to this in his life Crowley watched fascinated and lost in the easiness of it all. There was a light poke in his ribs under the table. Turning Crowley frowned at Castiel. The angel motioned to Sam with his eyes.
"Crowley," Sam asked.
"What?"
"Pass the bacon?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry."
Crowley passed the bacon and turned back to Castiel. He tipped his head slightly at angel and Castiel gave him a slight nod. Glancing to Dean he was startled at the strange look the older Winchester was giving him. Dropping his eyes back to his plate Crowley began eating again. When everyone was finished eating he helped clear the table. Dean began washing the dishes and the angel helped dry them.
"The main reason Dean likes making breakfast," Sam told him.
Crowley turned to face Sam. "What?"
"He hates dishes," Sam said with a smile.
"And whoever cooks," Crowley began.
"Doesn't do dishes," Sam finished.
"Makes absolute sense."
.
"Dean, can I talk to you?"
Dean looked up from the book he was reading. "Little busy at the moment Crowley. What do you want?"
"I want to practice healing."
"I don't think Cass is going to go for that."
"Not with him Squirrel, with you."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "You really think I'm going to trust you enough for that? Hell I barely trust you enough to let you run around without the shackles."
"I need this Dean."
"Why?"
"I need to be useful."
"You want to be useful? Help find a way to kill Abaddon."
"I'm working on that."
"Work harder."
"I've never asked you for anything since I've been here, not once. Please?"
"Why is this so important to you?"
Crowley bit his lip.
"Crowley."
"If someone comes to kill me, and eventually they will, Sam might try to step in and stop them. If he gets hurt, especially because of me, I want to know how to help him."
"So none of it has anything to do with actually being useful?"
"Actually yes, that part's true as well. I really do want to make up for some of the things I've done."
"I can't help you like Cass did with his Grace."
"I think I understand how to redirect it now. In any event it might actually be easier without the Grace. It'll definitely be less painful."
Crowley watched Dean think about the request. Please say yes, he begged.
"On one condition."
"Anything."
"Cass gets to be present while we do this."
"Done."
Dean gave a sharp nod. "Follow me," he ordered.
Crowley followed Dean into the kitchen and watched as the older Winchester began inspecting the cabinets. Every so often Dean would pull some thing out and set it on the table. Checking the fridge Dean pulled out the milk and stared at it for a second before placing it on the table as well. Opening another cupboard Dean grabbed two plates and placed them on the table.
"Hope you're hungry."
"Why?"
"You want to work on your healing?"
"Yes," Crowley responded cautiously.
"Want to tell Sammy what we're doing after how he reacted yesterday?"
Crowley bit his lip. "I won't lie to Sam," he said finally.
"Oh, for crying out loud. I'm not talking about lying to him. I'm just talking about not telling him."
"Feels like lying," Crowley muttered.
"We doing this or not?"
Crowley nodded.
.
"Sammy!"
Crowley had opted to wash the dishes they'd used. There was no way he would be able to look at Sam while Dean did this. It still felt too much like lying. Instead of having to stand there while Dean told Sam to make a store run Crowley had offered to do the dishes.
"What's up?"
"We're out of a few things. We need to make a store run and it's your turn to go."
Crowley studiously kept his eyes on his hands as Dean handed Sam the list.
"We were good on milk this morning Dean."
"Yeah well, I got thirsty. What can I say?"
"Does it have to be right now?"
"Got some thing else to do right now?"
Crowley bit his lip as his fingers tightened on the plate in his hands.
"Guess not. I'll be right back. Crowley?"
He had to work not to jump at the sound of his name. He rewashed the already clean plate he was holding.
"Yeah?"
"Want anything specific from the store?"
"No, I'm good with whatever," he answered without looking back to Sam. Yep, definitely still felt like lying.
"Alright, see you guys in a few."
"See ya Sammy."
Crowley rinsed the plate as he listened to Sam's retreating footfalls. After a few moments Dean left to check that Sam had finally gone. Crowley finished the remaining dishes and began drying them. He had almost finished drying them all by the time Dean returned.
"Ready?"
"In a second. I want to finish this first."
"We don't have much time Crowley."
"It's only a few cups and some silverware Dean."
"Want help?"
"I have this, you go get Castiel."
"Alright. I'll be right back."
"Not going anywhere," he grumbled as Dean left to get the angel.
When he finished drying he began putting things away. He lost himself in the mundane task. After everything was put away he stepped back and inspected the kitchen. He felt pretty good for the first time in a long time.
"Never thought I'd see the day."
Crowley turned at the sound of Dean's voice.
"The King of Hell, doing dishes."
And that comment shattered the mood. Dean had to remind him that at his core he wasn't anything more than a demon. Maybe he could play at being a human for a while but in the end he would still be nothing more than a monster these two hunted on a regular basis.
"What," Dean asked.
"Nothing. Everyone ready?"
"I want to say I don't like this idea," Castiel stated.
"Understood," Crowley acknowledged. "Dean?"
"Ready when you are."
Dean pulled out his pocket knife and made a small slice on the top of his forearm. Flipping the knife closed Dean slid it back into his pocket. He sat down and placed his arm on the table. Crowley took a deep breath and released it before he sat next to Dean. Carefully he placed his right hand on top of the small cut. Touch his power, check. Focus on the part he used to heal himself, check. Visualize it, check.
"You're looking tense. Remember Crowley, relax," Castiel said quietly.
Right, relax. He could do that. Crowley took a few more deep breaths. He visualized his energy in his finger tips. Holding onto that image he visualized Dean's energy as it felt to him; swirls of purple and black shot through with silver streaks. As was always the case when he used his powers the word came to him in Latin. Curatio. He could feel his power looking for an injury, trying to find something to fix in him. Crowley growled in annoyance and he felt the energy intensify as it continued to search.
"Crowley," Castiel asked quietly.
Curabo eum, Crowley told the energy. Heal him, curabo eum.
"Relax Crowley," Castiel reminded him.
"No," Crowley growled. Angels needed to relax. Angels needed to feel calm. He was a demon. Crowley pulled on his anger and mixed it with his energy. Curabo eum, he told his power as he released it into Dean. Almost from a distance he heard Dean hiss as Dean tried to yank his arm back.
"Crowley stop," Castiel ordered.
Crowley killed the thread of power and opened his eyes. Damn he felt drained. Slumping back in the chair his eyes slid closed. He took a few steadying breaths and finally reopened his eyes.
"Did it work?"
"Oh it worked," Dean told him. "Hurt like a bitch though."
Dean held up his arm and Crowley noted the small red mark where the cut had previously been. All that work, all that effort and all this fatigue just to heal that tiny cut. His head swam as he processed the information.
"Anger," he mumbled.
"What?"
"Anger," he informed them once again as exhaustion finally overtook him.
*Dean POV*
"He okay," Dean asked.
"I don't know," Castiel answered. "I've never seen a demon heal a person before. I don't know what kind of repercussions it had on him."
"Can you, you know, check?"
"I could but I'm not sure if I should."
"Why not?"
"I'm not sure if using my Grace to check on him would make anything worse at this point."
"So what do we do then?"
"I think the best thing we can do is put him in a bed and hope he wakes up soon."
"If he doesn't?"
"We should cross that bridge when we get to it."
"What do we tell Sam?"
"No clue. I was all for having Sam present when we did this, remember?"
"Yeah, you and him both."
*Sam POV*
"Dean," Sam called out as he entered the bunker.
"Yo," Dean answered as he walked into view.
"One more load of groceries in the car. Can you get them while I put these away?"
"Sure."
Entering the kitchen Sam nodded to Cass as put the groceries on the table.
"Hey."
"Hello Sam."
"Where's Crowley," Sam asked.
"Sleeping."
"Sleeping?"
"Um, yes. Taking a nap."
Sam eyed Cass suspiciously as the angel fidgeted.
"Got the last of them," Dean announced as he entered.
"Thanks. Anything interesting happen while I was out," he asked casually.
"Not really," Dean answered.
"Crowley decided to take a nap?"
Dean shrugged. "Guess he was tired."
"Guess so," Sam stated noncommittally.
Dean helped put the rest of the groceries away. Neither spoke as they worked. When they were done Sam made up a story about going to research some thing or another and left to go check on Crowley. He stopped at Crowley's room and knocked softly. When there was no answer he cracked the door slightly and peeked into the room. Crowley lay on the bed asleep. As Sam watched Crowley tossed a few times. Sam entered the room and shut the door quietly. Moving over to the bed he knelt down and watched the demon. Crowley tossed a few more times and muttered in his sleep. Was Crowley having a nightmare? Sam leaned in to better hear what Crowley was saying.
"No, please," Crowley whimpered. "Please stop. Hurts."
Sam reached out to brush some of Crowley's hair back from his forehead. The second his hand touched him Crowley jerked away.
"No, please. No more pain."
"Shh," Sam whispered. "Shh, you're okay. You're safe Crowley."
"Please... Hurts," Crowley whined in his sleep.
"Safe," Sam whispered again.
Reaching out he touched the backs of his fingers to Crowley's cheek. Crowley flinched but Sam didn't draw back this time. Instead he began to stroke the side of Crowley's cheek softly. After a little bit Crowley's breathing seemed to calm slightly. Sam began whispering quietly as he continued to comfort Crowley. Finally Crowley seemed to settle into an uneasy but much more peaceful sleep.
"Safe Crowley," Sam whispered once more.
"Sam," Crowley whispered.
Sam stared shocked. Did Crowley just whisper his name?
"Crowley?" Sam waited but there was no response.
Sam stood and made his way to the door. Turning he watched Crowley for a few seconds longer. What was it that could give someone like Crowley nightmares like that? Carefully Sam opened the door and stepped into the hallway closing the door behind himself. Sam made his way to his room. He left his door open as he entered. He'd had enough. He needed to find out what was going on with Crowley. Making his way over to his desk he sat down and pull out a a notebook. Carefully he began making a list of all the pieces of information he had so far.
.
Sam rubbed his eyes and checked the time. Had it really already been three hours? He picked up his notebook once again. Tapping his pen against the notebook he skimmed the 'symptom's list' he had made. He crossed off one and added a new one. He was about to run another search when there was a knock at his door. Twisting to look back over his shoulder he spotted Crowley standing in the doorway. Sam closed the notebook and put the pen on top of it.
"What's up?"
Crowley shrugged.
"Want to come in?"
"Yeah."
Sam turned back to the computer. As soon as he spotted the article still on the screen he shut the computer. Smooth Sam, he thought. Close the notes but leave the research showing? Real smooth. He turned back to face Crowley.
"What's up?"
"I'm supposed to tell someone when I need, uh, 'help'."
Sam frowned. "Help?"
"Blood," Crowley clarified.
"Oh. Yeah, sorry. Wasn't thinking clearly. Yeah, one second."
Moving to the nightstand he grabbed the kit and pulled a needle out. Taking off his over shirt he sat down on the bed and searched for a vein. When he found one he extracted the blood and turned back to Crowley.
"Want to sit down?"
Crowley's eyes darted to the bed.
"Bed or chair, your call."
"Chair."
Crowley didn't actually seem pleased with the prospect of sitting in the chair instead. Sam frowned. Unwilling to push the issue of where Crowley sat Sam shrugged and moved over to the desk. Crowley sat down and dropped his eyes to the floor. Sam's frown deepened. Maybe it was time for them to have their talk. Sam injected the blood into Crowley and went to put the needle away. When he was done he shut his bedroom door and leaned back against it.
"Thank you," Crowley said still not looking at him.
"We need to talk," Sam said bluntly.
Crowley's eye instantly locked onto his.
"You did say later."
Some emotion passed across Crowley's face too fast to identify.
"It's later," he informed Crowley.
Crowley bit into his bottom lip and Sam remained silent.
"I'm still not quite ready," Crowley said quietly.
"I'm starting to think you're probably never going to feel ready, Crowley."
Crowley bit his lip again.
"Tell me what I can do to make this easier."
"You can't."
Sam thought through what he knew. Moving to the bed he sat down on the edge closest to the door. He leaned back against the headboard with his legs stretched out. Casual posture, he told himself.
"Crowley?"
"Yeah."
"Come sit on the bed please."
Crowley shook his head.
"Please?"
"I..."
"Please?"
Crowley finally nodded. As Crowley moved to the bed he didn't look over at Sam once. When he finally sat down on the edge of the bed Crowley looked extremely uncomfortable. Sam continued to wait. Finally Crowley sat back against the headboard and drew his knees up to his chest. Defensive posture, Sam thought to himself. It followed along the same path as the other small clues. Crowley wrapped his arms around his legs and laid his head on his knees facing away from Sam. Defensive and distant, Sam amended.
"We can start where ever you want."
"Don't want to start," Crowley mumbled.
"We are having this conversation. I just want to make it easier for you."
"You start," Crowley told him.
"The other day, when I woke you up, what were you dreaming about?"
Crowley flinched and shook his head.
Sam started to scoot closer and Crowley tensed. Slowly, Sam admonished himself. Whatever had happened Crowley was reacting like a wounded animal. He was going to have to be very cautious with his movements and tone. Crowley seemed to do better when they were in close proximity but getting there was going to be difficult. You didn't startle a wounded animal unless you wanted to be attacked.
"You told me to suggest a starting point Crowley," Sam said softly.
"Not there."
"Okay. So how about we start with your nap earlier?"
Crowley's arms tightened around his legs and he began rocking back and forth slowly.
"Crowley," Sam asked quietly.
"I..."
"You know you can tell me anything right?"
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I don't want..."
"To say what really happened earlier?"
"No, I do want to say that!"
"Okay," Sam replied calmly. "Then start there."
"Dean," Crowley simply stated.
Sam worked to control his tone. "What about Dean?"
Crowley shook his head.
"What happened earlier Crowley?"
"Dean... I... I just wanted..."
Sam took a deep breath and let it out. "You wanted to what?"
"Practice," Crowley whispered.
"Practice what?"
"Please don't be mad."
"I won't be."
"I need to practice."
"Practice what Crowley?"
"Healing."
Oh, was the only thing Sam could think for a few seconds. Of course that's what he had meant.
"Mad?"
"No," Sam answered honestly. He should have expected this. In retrospect he realized he should have been more suspicious than he was when Dean had sent him for groceries.
"I'm not mad Crowley. Promise."
Crowley gave a small nod but continued rocking slowly.
"How did it go?"
"Good. I think."
"You think?"
"I healed the cut."
"Nice."
"Then I passed out."
Sam instantly straightened.
"I guess they put me in my room after that," Crowley continued.
Crowley passed out from healing a cut and Dean hadn't told him? Suddenly Sam remembered how nervous Cass had looked. Cass had known and hadn't said anything either.
"Did it hurt as much this time?" Stupid question, Sam thought. Crowley had passed out so something major had happened.
"Actually no, but I didn't try it on Castiel this time."
"Dean?"
Crowley nodded.
"So what happened?"
Crowley shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know. I just got really tired afterward." Crowley paused for a moment. "But I did heal the cut," he added.
"Nice," Sam repeated.
Sam inched slightly closer. This time Crowley didn't seem to notice.
"So they put you in your room?"
"Yeah. I mean I guess. I wasn't really awake for that part," Crowley stated dismissively.
"And you didn't want to tell me because you didn't want me to be mad?"
"No, I wanted to tell you."
Sam groaned inwardly. "Dean didn't," Sam guessed.
"Yeah," Crowley affirmed.
"I'm not mad, okay?"
Crowley remained silent and Sam frowned.
"Crowley?"
"You got mad the last time."
"I know. Actually I meant to apologize for that."
The rocking slowed.
"I was upset because I want to help you and it seemed like I wasn't making any progress."
The rocking stopped.
"I want to make sure you know the value of life, including your own. I didn't understand why you would want to do some thing that hurt that much."
Slowly Crowley turned to face him.
"Dean found me and told me off for not having more faith in you," Sam said with a small smile. The look on Crowley's face was totally worth it. "He was right, you know? I should have tried to see it from your perspective."
Crowley bit his bottom lip.
"The... The nightmare. From when you woke me up," Crowley stated haltingly.
Sam relaxed and tried to appear as non-threatening as possible.
Crowley looked away and began rocking again.
"I was dreaming of when I first became a demon," Crowley whispered.
Sam had to work hard not to flinch. He had no idea what happened to new demons but it stood to reason that it wasn't pleasant.
"I'm sorry."
No response. Honestly had he really expected one? He hated to ask but he needed more information to put the pieces together. "Do you dream about it often?"
"Sometimes."
"Sometimes often?"
"Yeah."
"Sometimes not so much?"
"More now. With the human blood fighting the demon blood in me."
Sam couldn't stop the flinch this time.
"I am so sorry about that Crowley."
Crowley shook his head and continued rocking.
"I mean it. I never meant to make you go through this."
"Not your fault."
"How is it not my fault?"
"You needed a demon. I am a demon." Crowley stopped rocking. "Or was?"
"Doesn't matter," Sam told him. "No one deserves to feel like you do right now."
"I do."
"Not even you Crowley," Sam told him firmly. "Was that what you were dreaming about earlier?"
Crowley jerked his head sideways to glare at him. "None of your business," Crowley growled.
Sam stared, dumbfounded by the sudden anger.
"I will not talk about that!"
"Okay," Sam told Crowley. "We don't have to discuss that right now."
"Ever!"
"Okay," Sam repeated.
Crowley jerked his head back the other direction and began rocking again. Whatever the dream had been was worse then when he was a newly turned demon. Sam was having problems processing that.
"Ever," Crowley repeated quietly."
"Not unless you ever want to talk about it," Sam assured him.
Crowley shook his head.
Sam reached out and lightly placed a hand on Crowley's arm.
Crowley flinched.
"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
Crowley hugged his legs more tightly and didn't respond. Sam felt the small trembles and frowned. Sitting up slightly he tried to get a better look at Crowley's face but couldn't. "Crowley?"
No response.
"Please look at me?"
Crowley shook his head and jerked his arm away from Sam's touch.
"I'm sorry if I brought up some thing that upset you."
Sam could finally see the trembling.
"Hey, you okay?"
Crowley shook his head. Sam reached out again and placed his hand on Crowley's arm. This time Crowley didn't try to shove it away. The trembling was getting worse. Sam pulled his legs underneath him and sat on them. Carefully he moved his hand to Crowley's back. Crowley seemed to lean into the embrace.
"Shh, it's okay," he soothed.
Crowley shook his head again and Sam could feel the tell-tale signs of crying. Seriously? What could make Crowley that upset? Sam adjusted them until the first arm was wrapped around Crowley. He leaned closer until he was pressed against Crowley's side and put his other arm around him.
"Shh, I've got you."
Those words seemed to destroy what little resistance Crowley had left. Before Sam knew what was happening Crowley wrapped his arms around Sam and leaned into his chest. Pressing his head against Sam's shoulder Crowley finally broke down completely. Sam was completely at a loss. He had no clue how to proceed. He settled for rubbing Crowley's back with one hand and holding onto Crowley's forearm with the other hand. Sam began murmuring any and every soothing thing he could think of to say.
.
Sam lay there staring at the demon currently clinging onto his arm. When Crowley had broken down he had muttered several things. Nothing he said helped Sam understand anything more now then he had before the break down. If he was being honest most of what Crowley said deepened the mystery further. Sam used the hand Crowley wasn't gripping to brush his fingertips over Crowley's brow. There was a soft knock on his door and Sam glanced to the arm Crowley had in a death grip. Damn it! The door creaked open and Sam turned to see Cass in the doorway. He used his free hand to motion Cass into the room. As Cass approached the bed Sam raised a finger to his lips. Cass nodded in comprehension.
"How is he," Cass whispered.
"Not sure. Better I hope. Why didn't you tell me about him healing Dean?"
Cass winced. "I wanted to tell you. Dean didn't think it would be a good idea."
"Should have known," Sam grumbled.
Crowley let out a low whine. Sam turned back and ran his fingers over Crowley's temple. "Shh. I'm still here. Shh," he murmured.
Crowley adjusted his grip on Sam's arm and snuggled closer. Sam continued to soothe Crowley until he seemed to relax. Breathing a sigh of relief he turned back to Cass. Cass stared at him uncomfortably and Sam knew there was something else Cass wasn't telling him. "What aren't you telling me?"
"I promised I wouldn't."
"Cass," Sam hissed.
"I promised him Sam."
"I swear, if has anything to do with his dreams you better tell me now."
Cass frowned. "I don't think it does."
"You don't think?"
"I don't know what he dreams about."
"Just tell me Cass."
Cass glanced to Crowley before looking back to Sam.
"Cass."
"Crowley..."
"Cass. Now."
Cass sighed. "Crowley has feelings for you. Please don't tell him I told you."
Sam frowned in confusion. Feelings? He turned back to Crowley. Actually that would explain a lot of things. Not everything but it did explain a lot. His mind flashed back to when he asked where Crowley wanted to sit for the injection. The hesitation. The discomfort. He turned back to Cass. "You should have told me earlier."
"I promised I wouldn't."
Sam shook his head.
"Sam," Crowley called out.
Sam turned back. Crowley was still sleeping. Sam put his hand on Crowley's cheek and stroked his thumb lightly over it. "Shh. I'm still here. I'm not leaving. Shh. You're safe." When Crowley finally relaxed slightly he turned back to Cass.
"Does Dean know?"
"Yeah."
"And neither of you told me?"
"I promised him I wouldn't."
Sam rolled his eyes. "I think I'm going to be here for a while. Can you hit the lights and make sure Dean doesn't knock later?"
"Yeah."
"Thanks."
Cass nodded and headed for the door.