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Chapter 2: Don't Cross The Streams!

"Come on. The curry last night wasn't so bad, now, was it? And the airport's due to open again in a few days," Sam said as they were sitting in a cafe the next morning, both trying to warm up from the cold air outside. Dean was still looking unhappy that they would be stuck in England for the day at least, and Sam was slowly losing patience with the grumpy mood of his older brother.

"Let's just treat it as a holiday, okay? Normal people get to take those."

"A holiday," Dean grunted. "When do we ever get a holiday? I mean, this is London," he said redundantly, looking out at the street through the cafe's window with the discontent of any country boy that lived for open roads but was currently forced into urban life and had already had a run-in with several city pigeons, "By the end of the day we'll probably have, I dunno, a run-in with zombie Shakespeare, or a reincarnation of Jack the Ripper, or there's bloodthirsty mermaids in the friggin Thames -"

"Or maybe nothing," Sam cut him off, but, to be truthful, even he wasn't entirely convincing himself. He had been a bit on edge ever after the run-in with the black vintage car yesterday, but so far, nothing out of the ordinary had happened after that. After dinner at the pub, Dean had gone out drinking and come back sometime in the night with enough lipstick on his face that the only 'death' he had died that night might have been a very little one. Sam had spent the time finally relaxing and reading in their hotel room, getting a little tipsy himself with the help of the mini bar and writing another letter to Stephen King. So at least he was trying to tell himself that this could be a holiday.

But then again, he couldn't have known about the demon Hastur, Duke of Hell and more powerful than anything they had come across ever, possessing the body of a short, stocky waitress only five yards away from them.

xxx

It had been twenty years. In fact, it had been even slightly more than twenty years, but, despite it being a virtue, demons could be patient.

"Crowley...you managed to botch the apocalypse...you managed to melt Ligur...a bastard only I should have been allowed to kill..."

Of course, the duke of hell was referring to the very unfortunate incident about twenty years ago, when the demon in question had not only managed to avert the end of the world and blatantly disregarded his orders, but also had placed a bucket of holy water over a door just as Ligur, long-time partner of Hastur had entered it when they had been sent to collect Crowley for his disobedience. And Hastur's capability of holding onto grudges was so good he was practically a black hole of resentment.

"Oh, I am going to show him. I am going to burn his heart out."

This time, Hastur wasn't going to make the same mistake as twenty years ago. This time, he had not ascended in a custom-tailored human body that reflected his true form, but had taken possession of a random mortal instead. It meant he was far from as powerful as he could be, but holy water could only cause him minor burns in this form. Crowley, on the other hand, who was still walking around in that oh-so-sharp bespoke body he had received from Hell, would not be so lucky. Just like Ligur, he would instead suffer a very, very messy death. And he hadn't the faintest what was coming for him. The possessed waitress broke out into a demonic cackle as she poured the Mocha Latte that was laced with the blessed liquid.

This also caused her coworkers, who had been listening to her incomprehensible mumblings all morning, to start getting slightly worried at this point - work had clearly been getting to her.

Hastur now very carefully placed the hot beverage an unsuspecting Crowley had ordered not five minutes ago on a tray, put the container with the rest of the holy water to the side, and then started to walk with the glass toward the stairs leading to the upper level of the cafe, where his prey was currently sitting in blissful ignorance and reading a newspaper.

xxx

"Oh, by the way," Sam spoke up while Dean was busy taking out his frustration on some innocent eggs, "while you were out yesterday I was just reading up on some lore. I found something that might be helpful when dealing with demons in the future."

"We have something that is helpful when dealing with demons." His older brother wasn't looking up from his food. "It's called 'Ruby's knife'."

"Yeah, but it never hurts to have alternatives. I have found something that's basically like...an emergency exorcism."

Dean stopped eating, fork halfway to his mouth.

"What now?"

Sam pulled out a sheet of paper he had scribbled something on. "It's basically supposed to be a really short exorcism that is still very powerful. Problem is, it doesn't work if the demon is caught in a devil's trap, and also you have to be really close to him, like within arm's reach. So most of the time you'll probably be ganked before you even have the chance to say it, but it can be a last resort. So, emergency exorcism." The taller man looked at his brother after this explanation, seemingly quite pleased with himself.

Dean blinked. Then: "Dude, you really need to get out more."

Sam gave him a flat stare. "Also, it's less than two lines of text, so even you should be able to learn those." Before his older brother could snap back a retort, the younger Winchester slid the writing pad toward him on the table. "Here, try it."

Dean levelled another stare Sam, but then seemed to give in, and pushed his plate aside to glance at the paper. Sam's writing was illegible at best, making Dean often wonder whether his younger brother wouldn't have been better off studying to become a doctor rather than a lawyer. But the 'emergency exorcism' really was only two lines of Latin text and at least most of the words were familiar. Dean took a breath and read them aloud.

"Deus, audi orationem..."

It came as a surprise to most people in the café when the waitress just passing their table then simply burst into flames.

xxx

Upstairs, Crowley stopped reading his newspaper. This was because it had started to rain on his angel food cake.

"Sprinklers?" the demon asked aloud.

xxx

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh-!"

The waitress was screaming as flames licked at her form and black smoke had started to come out of her ears. Sam and Dean stared at her completely flabberghasted for a moment, but fortunately, the café owner was a lot quicker to react. Without thinking, he grabbed the container of water that was for some reason standing on the counter, and sloshed it all over the woman.

This, inexplicably, did not seem to have the desired effect.

xxx

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-!"

"What the-?!" Sam and Dean had leapt to their feet, staring at the waitress whose eyes had now definitely turned red, and the younger Winchester was about to pull out the knife, when her mouth finally opened and a tell-tale cloud of black smoke erupted, fleeing the steaming body and vanishing through the air vent.

"Was that-?" Sam grabbed the book still on the table, trying to flip open a particular page which was made difficult by the sprinklers now raining harder, British smoke alarms apparently a little bit sensitive to demon exorcisms. But at least they had also extinguished the last of the flames, the woman collapsing to the ground, unconscious, but miraculously unhurt.

"Aaaaaah! They have a knife!"

"Uh, Sam-" Dean was trying to get his brother's attention as now the first exclamations were breaking the silence in the cafe, and the two Winchesters were unfortunately right at the center of attention.

"These two! I saw them! They mumbled something and then she caught FIRE!" another woman sreamed shrilly while pointing at them, and now the older Winchester was pretty sure he could also hear police sirens in the distance as the noise level was now rising rapidly.

"Oh my god, it's a robbery!"

"No, I've seen it on telly, it's like in this culture they burn women's faces if they try to-!"

"TERRORISTS!"

And the café erupted into a riot.

Fortunately, in the general chaos it was still rather easy for the brothers to push past the waiters with practised ease and then sprint out the back door, Dean only vaguely noticing that right in front of the café, in a no-parking zone, there stood a particular black Bentley.

xxx

Police sirens now. Downstairs, people screaming like they hadn't since the last witch hunt. Crowley sighed and folded up his copy of the Sun (he was particularly proud of his invention of that one). Any hope of a peaceful breakfast now gone, the demon rose from his chair and, sprinklers curiously avoiding to hit him even with a drip of water, walked out of the café toward his parked car. He passed the unconscious woman without much concern, and, in turn, nobody particularly noticed him

Random activation of sprinklers to ruin a brunch outing. Well, at least he could always use that idea for some demonic activity in the future, so the morning hadn't been a total waste.

Mood somewhat restored, Crowley decided to bother Aziraphale for breakfast instead, and then perhaps buy another house plant for his apartment. There was a less-than-perfect camellia that needed...replacing.

The stereo in the car playing a particular Kansas song from a cassette that hadn't yet been in the Bentley for a fortnight, Crowley drove off, whistling.

xxx

Several thousand metaphorical miles below, Hastur, now safely back in hell, paced in his office.

Possessing someone had at least worked to conceal his aura from Crowley, despite the failed assassination. It was also a way of walking the earth that was a lot less dangerous than going up there in your own form that you had to...well, fill out a form for. That was what had gotten Ligur killed, though. Get even a small amount of holy water on a body that really belonged to you, represented somewhat what you looked like, and you were done for. Getting splashed while possessing someone was still rather painful, but at least it left you the option to escape and survive. The downside of this much safer and stealthier way, however, came with a great reduction in power. Hastur paused and drummed his claws on the table in his lavishly furnished office in hell's capital city of Dis. Should he ascend in his true form, then, despite the danger and unleash all his fury on Crowley in a single show of demonic rage? He was a Duke of Hell. That miserable wretch wouldn't stand a chance when it came to a direct comparison of power...

But no. The new management (Hastur almost felt like throwing up when thinking of the smug bastard who had taken power – he himself had favoured Lilith, she at least was old and proper) the new management disapproved of big showy displays that drew attention.

Well.

Then again, at least the new boss – Howdy, or whatever he called himself – was busying himself with some sort of monster experiments or whatever plebeians had as a hobby these days and wasn't paying much attention to what the demon nobility was up to. Just as well. But it meant that before going all out, Hastur thought, it might be a wise decision to exhaust at least the rest of the options of how best to make Crowley suffer. Having finally made a decision, the duke of hell nodded to himself and then turned to stride out of his office, leaving the door with the Crowley dart board swinging shut behind him and turning firmly toward the more crowded parts of Dis, where the lower classes resided.

As such, Hastur didn't like consorting with...lesser demons. That was, demons that weren't of angel stock, belonging to the original Fallen like himself and that dirtcrawler, Crowley, but demons made from human souls. Hastur's lip twisted in contempt. Human souls that had been twisted over hellfire for decades first, maybe, but still. And lately, they had also been getting rather uppity.

But then again, Crowley had always said that, for all their shortcomings, human beings were at least...inventive, Hastur thought as he arrived at the door he had been looking for, the residence of a very particular lesser demon.

Because when it came to torturing, this one was supposed to be the master of the craft.

"Hello, duke," Alastair greeted Hastur as he entered. "What can I do for you?"

To be continued...

Everyone who commented, thanks a bunch, it did give me the confidence to post the new chapter! :D Crossovers can be tough, but I hope you liked it! Anyone worried for London's safety yet? :p If you read, please review!