"Crowley?" said Sam.

"Crowley," Dean agreed.

They wouldn't have even considered, in the past, making a deal with Crowley, but since Sam had undertaken the trials to shut down Hell and attempted to cure him of his demonic ways, Crowley had been... less than Crowley. He was still managing to cling onto his position as the King of Hell, but only by his fingernails – Abbadon was gathering followers in the rogue demons and it seemed that she would stop at nothing to snatch his title from him the first chance she got. But Crowley's heart (he seemed to have one now) wasn't really in it. He liked the power, but the trials had had some effect on him, and he was staying out of Sam and Dean's way, not causing any trouble.

"He's got to help us. I mean, he's practically human now," said Sam. "He's bound to have some level of empathy."

"I wouldn't go that far," said Dean. "More like twenty percent less douchebaggy. That's still a whole lot of douchebag."

"Yeah, but still, we're kinda on the same side, right?"

"Sure. But he's not going to make it straightforward. We've pissed him off too much. So when he hands us that contract, you better make damn sure you read every letter."

"Me?" said Sam.

"You are a more proficient reader than your brother," piped up Castiel.

"Hey, shut up, Cas. You studied Law, right?"

"Pre-Law."

"Whatever. You make damn sure we're getting Adam back at the end of this, and we're all keepin' our souls. And... you can be the one to seal the deal."

"Of course I'm gonna—Aw, no, Dean, I'm not kissing Crowley!"

"Well, someone's gonna have to, and it's not gonna be me."

"I'll do it," sighed Castiel. Both the brothers looked to him. "What? I don't like him either, but... without my grace, I no longer have any way of getting into Hell without permission. Going through Crowley is the safest option we have. I understand that he is different now. He no longer wants any of us dead. It makes logical sense." Under their baffled stares, Castiel shrugged, and took a sip of the soda he had finally managed to open.

"...I guess that's it, then," said Sam, turning back to Dean, who looked at him. "We'll head over to wherever he's hiding out and just... ask him straight up, I guess."

"Great. We're workin' with Crowley," sighed Dean. "Fantastic. Love me some British half-demon freaks."

/

"Hello, boys."

Crowley was looking rather the worse for wear. He still hadn't recovered from his run-in with Sam in the church, and by the looks of things, he wasn't taking to humanity very well either. He was hiding out in a block of offices, from which he was ostensibly running his affairs. The demon Sam and Dean had summoned to take them to him was standing watch at the door.

"Why aren't you in Hell?" asked Dean.

"Manners," said Crowley, from behind his desk. "How are you, Your Highness; how have you been keeping since I kidnapped you and my brother shot you full of his own blood?" The last words were nearly a shout. "I'm afraid it's rather all-go there at the moment," he growled. "I've sentinels stationed at every possible entrance, but Abbadon is... tricky. And feisty. And I'm not about to put myself in her line of fire... Again." He looked pointedly at Sam.

"Hey, it was you called her up, not me," Sam said defensively.

"Let's not point fingers, Moose. What do want from me now?" Crowley asked with an air of resignation.

"OK, first thing..." Dean pulled his cell phone from his pocket, "Yeah, we're gonna need the keys to Lucifer's Cage."

"Now, why would I want to give you those?"

"Second thing," said Dean, sliding the phone onto the table in front of Crowley, "why in the hell is there wifi in Hell?"

Crowley shrugged. "How do you expect me to keep up the with the news?"

"I–I'm sorry?" Dean blinked, tilting his head, not sure if he had heard correctly.

"My subjects aren't exactly masterful at presenting the human side of affairs," said Crowley. "You know, what with them being demons and all. Unlike me," he added, with a poisonous look at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you don't think it might be a bad idea to let the friggin' Devil have access to the internet?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Facebook," said Sam. "Our brother, Adam, was trapped in the Cage with Lucifer and Michael, and they're gonna be torturing him – just like they tortured me – but he's been using Facebook. I mean, it's ridiculous. We didn't even know that there was any chance he was still—I mean, if we'd known, we would have tried—"

"Yeah, yeah, spare me your bleeding heart." Crowley waved a hand. "So your brother, trapped in the deepest pit of Hell – created by God, to house Lucifer – has been begging for your help on Facebook?"

"Yes," said Sam.

"And you're more concerned about the fact that Hell has broadband-speed internet access because...?"

"Because Lucifer's been using his Facebook!" said Dean.

"Right. And you're worried about that because he might write things like..." Crowley looked at the phone Dean had placed in front of him. "Two seconds ago near Lucifer's Cage... Now I know why they call him the Morning Star: Lucifer has a glorious coc—"

"That's really not the issue here!" yelped Dean.

"Of course it's not. You just want to get your baby brother out of there. And you came to me."

"Please," said Sam. "Whatever empathy you have, Crowley—"

"Oh, save it, Moose." Crowley waved a hand. "I'll let you boys in, but you'll be pledging your souls to me if it should so happen that I somehow lose my privileged position as the king of this hell-hole."

"That's ridiculous," muttered Dean.

"That's insurance, Squirrel," said Crowley. "Now, pucker up."

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