A.N. I've never posted my chapters as fast! I'm on fire! I hope you enjoy where this story is going :) Like, follow and REVIEW!

CHAPTER 7

It was dark, so dark. Sam couldn't see a damn thing even if he wanted to. The only time he'd even seen any sort of light for the past two days was when they had thrown him what smelled like dog food – and if he thought about it, it probably was – and a little earlier when some man came in and hurried Daryl out of the dark and little room they'd been thrown in.

Sam had no idea what was going on. He didn't know where he was, why he was taken, who those men were, and most importantly, if Dean was okay. Daryl hadn't told him much either, but he somehow understood that Daryl had been there before, and that it was really bad, worst than he thought.

He sat in one corner of the empty room, trembling from hungriness and because of the cold. It had been quiet for about 20 minutes. It usually wasn't quiet at all, with all those men shouting through the hallways, but somehow everything went silent around the time they came in to take Daryl. So he sat there, trying to hear anything out of the silence.

A few minutes later, he heard some shouting again. This time they were even harder than they'd ever been. The men were back in the building and it didn't take long for one of them to come unlocking the heavy door Sam was being kept behind. The door swung open as one of the Saviors pushed another man inside the room and slammed the door behind him, bringing back the darkness once again.

Sam sat up straight and tried to distinguish anything as he looked where he thought the man was on the opposite side of the small room. He heard distinctive groaning, the kind he'd heard so many times before over the course of his life, the kind he would recognize amongst thousands, and the kind that made his heart warm and full of hope for the first time in a long time.

"Dean?" Sam whispered loudly as he raised his eyebrows in surprise, approaching his brother in the dark.

"Sammy?" Dean breathed, pushing himself up the dirty floor.

Sam sighed in relief and smiled. "Oh, thank God!" He hurried up next to his brother, helped him up and gave him a tight hug. "Where the Hell have you been?" he asked.

"Sam, I-I'm sorry, I should've been there" answered Dean.

"No, no, it's okay… I'm okay" Sam smiled even though Dean couldn't see it.

They both stayed in silence for a moment, breathing heavily, before Dean spoke again "Did you see him?"

"Who?"

"Dad…"

Sam felt his heart beating hard in his chest. "Yeah… H-how is that possible?"

Dean shook his head "I don't know…"

Suddenly a cold breeze rushed through the room as a familiar voice echoed from the darkness "Hello boys."

Both Winchesters turned their back quickly in surprise. They heard a finger snapping sound as a lit candle appeared out of thin air. The fire burning bright allowed them to distinguish the face of a short and bearded man standing on the opposite side of the room.

"Crowley!?" exclaimed Sam.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, it's so good to see me, bla bla bla…" answered the King of Hell.

"Crowley, what the Hell?" asked Dean in a determined tone, taking a step closer.

"Oh, Dean, no need to get personal" Crowley answered smiling slightly.

"I mean it Crowley, what the Hell?" said Dean, more serious than ever.

The demon kept the eye contact for a moment before he rose his hand in defense "Fine, I'll explain it all, but you won't like it", he warned.

"We already don't like it, I mean, what's with all this Negan crap?" asked Dean.

"This "Negan crap" is a demon, and a very powerful one if I could say", answered Crowley, doing quotation mark with his hands as he repeated Dean's terms.

"What?" Blurted out Sam.

"What do you mean he's a demon?" asked Dean

Crowley rolled his eyes. "As I was saying before you dumbasses cut me, Negan was for many years just another demon. He was working under Alastair's orders, torturing helpless souls in Hell. But when Alastair died, no thanks to Moose, someone had to take his place, so Negan did. He became Hell's Grand Torturer, and he was even worst than Alastair had ever been. I mean, the guy could torture, alright. But he quickly got bored with the job. He always wanted more souls, more people to torture, and he kept asking for more. But since I wouldn't grant his wishes, he rebelled. He knew he couldn't rule Hell and do as he pleased as long as I was there, so he became his own master and wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted. So he decided that since he couldn't be King of Hell, he would rule Earth instead, where he could get as much souls as he wanted. The problem was, even if he did want more souls, people didn't start to die any faster, which made him think. If he wanted things to go his way, he'd have to kill the people himself. So he came to Earth and cast a spell so that when people died, they wouldn't, and he could have fun and torture them for as long as he pleased, which, I know, for you humans is pretty sad, bouhou and whatever. But if you take a look at a bigger picture, souls are stuck here and Heaven and Hell are getting emptier by the minute."

The Winchesters listened to Crowley's speech with attention, frowning half of the time and raising their eyebrows the other half. It was all sorts of wrong, but at that point, there was nothing Crowley could've said that would've surprised them. They'd been dealing with that sort of crap their whole lives, and a rebelled torturing demon was pretty much just another day the office for the brothers. Although, there was still one question that needed an answer.

"But why the Hell is that douchebag wearing our Dad's meat suit?" asked Dean in a panicked voice.

"And what do you mean Heaven and Hell are empty?" added Sam in the same tone.

Crowley sighed deeply, starting to get annoyed to have to explain everything. "When Alastair was still torturing souls in Hell, one of them was your father. Oh, how he got tortured. I mean, you know the drill Dean"

Dean shot a killer look at Crowley, which made him smile in amusement.

"Yeah, well, anyway", continued Crowley, "John never said yes to Alastair when he'd offer to reduce his suffering if he'd torture other souls. For all those year, John kept fighting. But when Alastair died and Negan took his place, he's the one who started to torture your dad, and let me tell you that he had a particular interest in the guy. He'd do to him stuff even I couldn't have ever thought of. At one point, John couldn't take it anymore and he said yes. But Negan had bigger plans for him, he needed a vessel, a damn good one, and somehow John seemed like the perfect fit."

Both brothers were trembling with rage. It was one thing to torture damned souls, but to kill innocent people and play with them like that, while wearing their father's meat suit, it made them sick. They were both breathing heavily before Sam dared to ask again "A-and why are, hum – "

"Right, why are Heaven and Hell empty? Well because of the spell he cast, all souls are stuck on Earth. None of them can cross to the other side. I'm telling you, I wouldn't be here if this wasn't apocalypse big." He sighed before adding "And I need your help."

Dean raised his eyebrows "Why on Earth would we help you?"

"Yeah, who says we can trust you?" added Sam.

"Oh, come on boys, aren't we past that I don't know if we can trust you phase? I mean, we're practically besties!" answered Crowley, somehow a little hurt. "Plus, isn't it your motto, Saving People, Hunting Things, and bla, and bla, and bla."

Sam and Dean felt so annoyed by the smaller man and it took Dean everything he had not to punch him in the face.

"So, do we have a deal, mh?" asked Crowley. He took the Winchesters' silence for an answer and added "Great, I'll be in touch." And just like that, with one finger snap, Crowley was gone, bringing the light with him as he vanished.