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Chapter 7: A Wanted Man
There was silence in the book shop after Aziraphale's grace had lashed out a second time, enveloping the two eager young men and whisking them away god knows where, leaving the street empty of both hellhounds and humans.
Crowley seemed to sag a little in on himself, energy leaving him after the immediate danger was over, and the demon traipsed over to the familiar armchair and dropped himself into it. Aziraphale followed suit with, of course, two cups of tea in his hands. Crowley accepted one gratefully.
"So...someone sent hellhounds after you,"Aziraphale said, looking faintly worried but also as sympathetic as ever. "You think it's the same one who let those plants attack you?"
"Probably,"Crowley said miserably. He looked up. "Say...can you demon-proof the shop?"
"Whenever I demon-proof the shop, you complain,"Aziraphale pointed out.
"Fair point."Crowley looked into his cup of tea like it was the beverage's fault his apartment had burst into flame today.
"Crowley, what is going on? Who sent the hell hounds to chase you and what is it with those two boys? Because I've recognized one of them. He was the tall one here this morning."
"And the compact one was the one who stalked me at the park,"Crowley grumbled. "All I can say is that I've absolutely no idea what on earth those two humans think they're doing, but I've asked around and I think it definitely is Hastur out to get me. Not alone, either – he's gotten one of the human demons to help him out. Explains the novelty of his strategies,"Crowley added the last sentence with just a little bit of contempt, because Aziraphale knew his demon friend prided himself on his originality despite having been created as an angel. Crowley took another sip of his tea. "Don't think I know that one too well, though,"he said. "Alastair, I think."
Aziraphale shook his head a little. "Can't say I've heard of him."
"Probably not his real name. To be honest, 'Alastair' was a bit of a fad name among young demons some centuries ago."Crowley shrugged. "Not many ways to gain respect as a fresh-born demon if you're still using your human name which was probably 'Bob' during the time you died."
"Or if you started out as 'Crawly',"the angel suggested innocently.
This was followed by a glower.
"Shut up, angel."
"So, what do we do?"
This automatic assumption of 'we'. There was a part of Crowley that felt a bit warm at that word, but the bigger part that was all demon would probably have thrown itself into hell before he showed it on his face. Crowley took a breath. "Well, I can't stay here much longer,"he said. "I have a feeling Hastur and his friend are on a solo mission, but just in case the upper management does somehow figure out what is going on and has a look at this, I can't be seen hiding in the bookshop of the enemy."
Aziraphale (who personally didn't think he could ever consider someone owning a bookshop an enemy) nodded. "That's true. If they decided to attack here, I wouldn't want it catching on fire again, either."
"No,"Crowley agreed. "The wisest thing might be for me to leave for a while."
There was a flash of...something behind those blue eyes, something that almost made Crowley want to take back what he said, tell Aziraphale he wouldn't go away, he'd stay, but then the moment was gone, and the angel only nodded in understanding.
"America?"
"...no,"Crowley shook his head. "Not America. I'm not exactly on top of things, but for the past six years, everyone over there seems to have gone entirely bonkers. Maybe India. Set up a few more callcenters,"he said it with a grin, although you could tell his heart wasn't quite in it.
"I see,"Aziraphale said, though his gaze seemed a bit distant. Then he looked back at Crowley and there was a small, slightly sad smile in his eyes.
"...want to spend the night before you leave?"
xxx
"So...we're dealing with a monster who has a thing for putting you in dresses."Dean said right as they were sitting down to breakfast, before adding with a smirk, "Are we sure this isn't Becky?"
Sam shot him a look that suggested if he ever became the antichrist, Dean would be the first one back in the pit.
"It wasn't a dress, Dean, it was a night shirt."
"You keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. Just don't come crying to me if it knocks us out again and you end up in lingerie,"the older Winchester replied as he ignored his younger brother's eye roll, shovelling eggs and sausages onto his plate.
Then he blinked.
"Actually, if that happens it'll probably be me who starts crying if I have to see you in anything lacy. I'm telling you, we're dealing with some sort of demon-slash-insane prankster combo here."
"No," Sam replied, "Dean, when I said 'night shirt', I meant it seriously. Like, that wasn't girl clothing, that was how men dressed at night. Like...200 years ago. Whatever sent us back to our beds last night might actually seriously have wanted to make us comfortable."
Again, his older brother gave him a look that suggested the idea of a supernatural creature trying to make him comfortable did not compute at all. "So we re dealing with what, then?"he asked, face creased in a frown. "A fashion victim from the middle ages?"
"We're also dealing with a snake-eyed freak whose idea of demonic wiling is not paying for his coffee," Sam pointed out.
"Yeah," Dean agreed. "This case is weird."
"And we don't even know what it wants."Sam went on, running his hands through his hair. "I mean, first it seems like it was trying to gank us in that cafe, maybe poison our food or something, then it's possessed homicidal plants, then it ignores us and instead does coin tricks, then it gets chased by hell hounds? Like, hell hounds? Were they Crowley's? Like, did that demon officially snap and Crowley is trying to get it back into hell? Is there such a thing as demon insanity?" the younger Winchester asked, words encompassing all of the circus show they had been enduring for the past few days tumbling out. "And what is up is with that book shop? You gotta admit, the whole thing is just...bizarre," Sam said (and for some reason, he had wanted to say 'ineffable'. It had to have been all that pouring over old texts yesterday).
"I dunno."Dean shrugged. "But whatever it is, we kill it,"he said, reciting the ancient Winchester philosophy and violently stabbing his egg.
"Hn,"Sam made a noise that didn't indicate complete agreement. "There's one other thing, though."
"Oh yeah?"
"I think the bookshop owner might be an angel."
Dean paused eating. "What."
"Think about it," Sam said, "What else could have dispelled the hell hounds? Also..." He took a breath. "He seemed kind of. Like. Angelic."
"What, like a big bag of dicks?"
"No,"Sam shook his head. "Like, proper angelic. Like in picture books. All...nice and stuff," he finished a bit helplessly. "Plus, the black suit guy called him 'angel' yesterday. I thought it was a nick name at the time."
"Snaky was in the shop?" Dean looked up abruptly.
",,,yeah,"Sam said, a bit hesitant now that more and more bits and pieces were coming back to him. More blurry images of last night that he could compare to the clearer, brighter ones of the day before. "I think it was him, but I didn't recognize him at the time. He was also wearing sunglasses inside the shop, which was weird."
"So, we have...what?" Dean frowned. "A demon of some sort and an angel working together? That sounds like something Cas should know about. Someone on his team is striking deals with hell."
"We don't quite know what is happening yet," Sam pointed out. "I think we should investigate first and once we've confirmed that it's really an angel and a demon, then we call him."
Dean gave his brother a long look. It didn't come as a surprise exactly – Sam had been a tad more distrustful when it came to Castiel than Dean for a while, now.
"...fine."
"Good." Sam gave a curt nod. "Also, cops say they've got the Impala. I've asked them from where they towed it and it's actually the area I was in yesterday, too. So. Bail the car and then investigate?"
"Sure." Dean nodded. "Not a fan of this breakfast anyway. Who puts beans on toast?"
xxx
"My...my hellhounds...I...I hand-raised them..."Hastur was currently looking at what had been his beasts from the pit not too long ago and looked as crestfallen as a demon possibly could.
"Well, they're not dead,"Alastair pointed out a bit helplessly.
"THEY'RE WORSE THAN THAT!"the Duke roared. One of the adorable golden retriever puppies that the former hellhounds had been turned into by angelic grace, took that as an opportunity to pee on the floor. Another one tried to console the obviously upset demon by affectionately nuzzling his ankle.
"This is an insult,"Hastur seethed. "I can't even kill them, because they'd just go to some sort of chewtoy-filled heaven,"he spat, pacing in his office among the litter. With an angry swipe of his hand they were gone, Hastur planning to have the puppies materialize on earth somewhere. He didn't even care where they went. He hoped it was a pressure cooker.
"What is Crowley even doing, bringing an angel in there?! How am I supposed to deal with that as well?!"
"Well,"Alastair was leaning against the wall and looking smug. "Believe it or not, I have tangled with angels before..."
xxx
"Sir, you need to put a patch on your right headlight. It blinds other drivers."
The police officer was patiently holding out a brown sticky patch and Dean was staring at it as if it was a bowl full of intestines.
"Sir, your car is continental and therefore the lights will blind other drivers at night. Please put this patch on."
"Sure. Come on, Dean," Sam said, grabbing his older brother and steering him carefully to the driver's side, while paying the fine for getting towed and taking the sticker from the police officer to put it on the right headlight of the Impala. Dean inside the car muttered something about how the next time he would strike a deal with a crossroads demon it would be to sink Britain, and then Sam was slamming the door shut and telling Dean to drive before the police decided they'd like to keep the Winchester brothers behind bars just like their car.
"My baby is wearing an eye patch now. I am not a happy man, Sammy," Dean said as they pulled out onto the London road, small snowflakes falling against the windshield.
"You can pretend she's a pirate," Sam suggested absent-mindedly, while going through the papers he received when bailing out the Impala. "Okay, according to the cops this is the address from where they towed it," he said, showing it to Dean and typing the address into his phone for navigation. "I think I kind of recognize the streets here, too,"he said after a while, "This is where I came earlier for research."
It had become apparent that the streets soon would be too narrow again for any kind of motorized traffic and Dean pulled up in a legal parking space this time. It was in front of what was clearly some sort of 'Den of Inequity' as Castiel would have put it and he raised an appreciative eye brow at Sam. "You came for research here? Classy," he suggested, and promptly earned the eye roll he had been aiming for.
"I was looking for book shops with lore,"Sam stated, but then suddenly stopped and grabbed Dean's arm. "Wait."
"Wha-oh."
Dean started, then stopped, too, staring at the alley Sam was looking at.
"This side-street. We ran down it,"Sam said, looking through it. He could remember more clearly now that he saw it, could remember the light drizzle on his face that let his hair stick in eyes, the brick walls rushing past them as they were running...towards...
They were retracing their steps from last night in a half-jog now, midnight memories and daylight present giving them a curious double-vision as they dashed past Duck Lane, through somewhere funnily enough called 'Dean street', and then stopped dead in front of a book shop just off Chapel Road.
"Dean!" Sam called out. "That is the book shop I was in yesterday, the one with the weird owner!"
"And it's also the one where the hell hounds disappeared last night," his brother replied grimly."Alright. I want some answers."
xxx
In demon circles it was already well-known that there wasn't much that could stop the Winchesters.
In this case, a rickety door and a 'Gone to Lunch' sign were doing a damn good job.
"God-dammit!" Dean hissed under his breath and once again tried to shove the door in while outwardly not appearing to do so. Fortunately, there weren't any people on the street at the moment, "presumably kept inside by the horrible weather," Dean had surmised with some sarcasm. Sam came back around the corner, a shake of his head indicating he hadn't had any success with finding a back door or window they could use to get in instead. Dean growled in frustration, thinking about trying the lockpicks again, when someone did show up, but he looked neither angelic nor demonic.
Well.
Perhaps a bit angelic.
"Whatever you're hunting in this store, you're doing a poor job of concealing your weapons," he said, piercing blue-green eyes under curly dark hair roving briefly and dismissively over all the places where guns and knives had been tucked into jeans and belts, but not pausing long enough to let the brothers get a word in edgewise, "If you're still going to attempt a break-in, I'd recommend in about twenty minutes, when my brother won't be watching," he said in the same fast-spoken yet bored monotone, with a quick glance indicating the CCTV camera Sam and Dean hadn't even noticed until now.
"It will be his lunch break," he said as if that for some reason explained everything. "I hope you'll manage to catch whatever it is," he added. "And I'd prefer it if you kept the supernatural nonsense out of my city in the future. It ruins clean crimes. Also hopelessly confuses Lestrade - although that can be achieved with anything more complicated than a theft of coffee creamer, sadly."
And then he was already gone, grey coat with upturned collar swirling behind his tall, wiry form, and Sam and Dean were left completely flabberghasted, staring after him.
"...what?"
"Wait, just how did he-?!"
And that was about as far as they got, because then the door of the shop opened, and another tall man in a brown, pin-striped suit stepped out.
"Hey!" Dean whirled around. "What are you doing in there?!"
"Oh, hello!" The unfamiliar man with the cheerful brown eyes smiled at them as if he for some reason couldn't be more pleased to see two totally confused hunters that had just been trying to break into a book shop. Then he frowned.
"Wait, you're Sam and Dean Whatsit, right? You should be at the lake about now," he said, somehow managing to make his tone almost a bit accusing, as if the Winchesters had managed to be late for school.
"...the hell, man?!" Dean managed, staring at the second Crazy British Person he had encountered in as many minutes.
The man in the brown suit only nodded, as if he was now fairly convinced that what he was saying was right.
"Yeeeeeah, the lake you were at yesterday! St James Park. Pretty sure about that, actually. And you should be there right now, otherwise you'll miss 'em."
"Now just wait a minute-!" Dean grabbed the man on his arm, intending to get some explanations right now, but the other managed to extract himself smoothly and gracefully, as if he were more than used to being grabbed by people stronger than him. He didn't seem to lose his good humour in the least.
"Terribly sorry, but not much time to explain,"he said instead, giving them a small grimace. "There's a kind of...thing happening at the moment. Well. More like three things. Well. Three things and a lizard. Again. MARTHA!" He yelled the last word, shouting it back into the shop, and then turned back to the brothers.
"Would you just tell Mr. Fell to please stop messing around with dimensional portals in his shop because even if he is only using them to talk to Metatron, there's all kinds of nasty stuff that can-"
But he never got to say exactly what it was that the nasty stuff could, because at that point, there was a shout of 'Coming, Doctor!' and then there were some running footsteps in the shop until a young black woman for some reason carrying a giant bow and arrow burst outside. She looked around, and her face seemed to fall a little.
"What? 21st century London again?"
"No time to lose!"The taller man grinned at her and then gave a final wave at the Winchesters. "Good luck! And, ah, mayyybe try to tone down the killing a bit, yeah? Ta!"
The brothers stared as both the man and the woman took off running through the side streets. There was a bit of a pause.
Then:
"I've had it up to HERE with this freak city and its freak inhabitants and-!"
"Dean, let's..let's just go to the lake, okay?"Sam tried to calm his shouting brother down, aware that for some reason the security cameras now seemed to be zooming in on them. The younger brother also thought that he now had some new-found sympathy for any innocent bystanders in any of their cases when the Winchester twister barrelled through their hometown.
xxx
Crowley's and Aziraphale's pace was slow and ambling along a familiar route, almost as if neither of them particularly wanted to arrive at their destination. When they finally did, and came to a stop at the shore of the duck pond in St. James Park, no one of them said anything for a while. Crowley absent-mindedly materialized a few bread crumbs in his palm and threw a couple at the ducks. Only one of them sank.
"This is goodbye, then, for a while?"Aziraphale asked then, looking at the still greyish sky full of little snowflakes.
"Depends on how soon I can shake them, I suppose,"Crowley said, carefully not using the word whether. "But yeah. Probably for a while."
"Well, I suppose at least the air traffic will get a reprieve,"Aziraphale replied, and there was that smile again, the one that he sometimes had when he looked at Crowley, looked at him as if he never had lost his grace, was still a little part of heaven on earth, and the one the demon could never stand looking at for too long because it would hurt.
"Figures that would be the one thing you'd take away from me leaving,"Crowley instead replied dryly. He waved a hand, intending to perhaps materialize elsewhere in a second, maybe on a boat preparing to cross the ocean. He still liked boats, ever since humans had invented sea faring. And he would need to go now, leave before he could do anything else that was stupid, like maybe simply grab Aziraphale and...
Crowley sighed.
"See you, ang-"
And that was as far as he came, because then there was shouting, and hands out of nowhere, grabbing him, more hands, pressing against a bloody rune smeared on a tree, and Aziraphale screamed, and then, for both angel and demon, the world simply dissolved into a searing, blinding white.
To be continued...
mid-Season finale come and gone! D: Now we have to wait! .
On the other hand, DW Christmas special and Sherlock premiere coming up, soooo...;) Hope you liked, and if you read, please review!