"You know how much I hate anyone in general bossing me around, right?" I asked, sitting down once more. "Do you think she'll like Reno, by the way? I took a bit of a shot in the dark, figured she'd be able to prosper there."
"What did you do to your soul?"
"Nothing intentional." I started off, raising my hands. "No idiotic deals with other demons, if that's what has your feathers ruffled. It's a by-product."
"Of what, exactly?"
"Of Cas." I said. "That's why I can't see him. It's the grace inside of me." I looked down at my own hands for just a second. "It's a part of me, it's intertwined with my own magic. And every time I use it…" I shook my head. "There's a chance that it's removing a part of my soul each time."
"How did you come to this conclusion?"
"I met a woman that used it. She told me what it did to her each time." I shook my head. "I can't go to him and have him see what it's done. I can't." I pursed my lips for a second. "Not to mention what Dean and Sam's reactions would be. He's chosen their side, whole-heartedly. He'd do anything for them, no matter the consequences. I…"
"You're still hiding." Crowley summed up. "You may traipse around believing that you're not, but you still are. You still can't face them."
"Could you, if you were in my place?"
"I've done the dead and back story before." He reminded me. "Your former fiancé actually helped me with it."
"Crowley," I sighed. "I just… I can't see him. I can't see any of them. They literally pulled guns on me when they saw me, before I disappeared. And that was them seeing me as… Well… Me. How can I see them again?"
"How are you sitting across from me?" He asked in turn. "I killed your father. Your brothers. I hunted you for years, trying to kill you. I tortured you and actually DID kill you. And yet here you are, sitting in front of me, CONFIDING in me," he motioned to the board. "Over a game of chess."
"I…" I didn't have a good answer. I didn't even understand it myself, sometimes. We had both changed. He was no longer a full villain. I was no longer a full innocent. Lines had been drawn and crossed and blurred at this point, blurred to where they no longer quite existed at this point, but instead coated the field in grey.
Crowley leaned back in his chair, a slightly satisfied smirk resting on his face. "Have no good response." He said. "You have no good reason to not go back, other than the fact that you're afraid of what could happen. It's the same reason that you haven't summoned another angel to look at your soul, and the same reason you ran for London. You're afraid of opening Schrodinger's box, and seeing the truth. You're still hiding."
"I'm getting better." I argued. "I'm doing better. No disguises."
"Still using a fake name? Perhaps Diana, still?" I looked at him in surprise. "I keep an ear out for your aliases, in case something comes up. You got a job under it while with the Loughlin triplets, working in finances."
"Why do you still care and keep track of me?"
"You are my creation. My actions caused you to be who you are now." He stated it factually. "It would look bad if I lost track of such a valuable investment."
"And now you want to, what, push the investment back in to a relationship?"
"God, no." He shook his head. "That would be unhealthy for both of you, to act as though nothing had changed. That's why I acknowledge the shift in paradigm between us. We've gone from you hating me and me just wanting you dead on principal, to casual conversation."
"So, what?" I asked. "Just show up. 'Hi Cas, you remember how you thought your fiancée was dead? She's been alive this whole time, made you forget, and has been actively avoiding you up until this point out of fear and shame. Wanna go grab some hot tea and catch up?'" I raised an eyebrow at Crowley. "How do you think that conversation is going to go? I'll get shot. I'll get stabbed. I'll get rejected."
"Why bring in shame?" Crowley asked. "I never said you were ashamed."
Fuck.
"Just a word." I waved a hand at it. "Bad adjective use."
"Why shame?" Crowley asked again. I looked over at the window.
"I didn't get a chance to tell you, but I like the new curtains." I complimented. "Nice color. Not too overbearing. Next time you'll have to let me replace them."
"Kylie," Crowley's voice wasn't demanding, it was calm. "Why?"
"Because I ran." I admitted. "Because I got scared and freaked out and he… He said he wanted to try and make things work and I was terrified that I would fail that too." I hadn't ever said those words out loud before. "They were my family, and I thought I had just destroyed it. I thought I had just thrown the biggest wrench in everything I had felt so fortunate to have for so long. I couldn't do it, I couldn't live with Sam's hatred and Dean's death and Cas just being him and being so kind and supportive…" I rested my forehead in my hand, resisting the urge to shake it once more. "And it would either turn in to Sam's bitter hatred or it would stay that way, stay unchanged when everything else was so different around me and I felt different and I couldn't do it, Crowley. I couldn't do any of it." I took a deep breath, steadying myself from my rambling. "I felt ashamed because I felt as though I'd failed, and then made a rash decision afterwards in a fit of fear and hurt that only made me hate what I'd become more."
"And now you're finally admitting it to yourself." He said, a note of approval in his voice. "You're finally coming to terms."
"I don't know what I'm doing." I said. "I'm trying to be happy with who I am, but it still feels as though something is wrong. No matter what I do, I can't go back from what I've done. I can't change it and fix things again. I just… I don't know how to fix things, and that terrifies me more than anything else. More than the possibility of my soul being in pieces now. More than the thought of actually being dead. More than anything."
"So what if it's all true?" Crowley asked. "What if your soul is in pieces now because of Castiel's grace? Is that going to change anything?"
"It might change whether or not I see him." I muttered, finally raising my head from my hand. "It's his grace. He might feel responsible."
"Let me tell you how I know he feels." Crowley stated, leaning forwards a little bit. "He came looking for me, after you disappeared and Sam and Dean were taken." I didn't know this. I'd probably already been overseas by then. "He came looking because he wanted to find you. He's still looking for you. It almost tore him to pieces trying to pick up the mess that was left behind after you disappeared." I stared at him in shock. "Quite frankly, I think the only reason he hasn't gone to London yet himself is because the bloody moron doesn't understand how airfare works." I offered a small smile at that, remembering a different conversation, when we talked about going somewhere far away together. "But he's looking for you. He's still looking for you, and hasn't stopped. It's surprising he hasn't already found you." Crowley shook his head. "Fate does tend to put you near his path, it's astounding that the two of you didn't meet sooner than you did."
"I… I don't even know where he is." I finally said. "Much less whether he wants to see me or not."
"He does. He wouldn't be looking for you if he didn't."
"If he knew, would he?"
"That's a risk you're going to have to take." Crowley said. "Same with learning as to the full extent of what the angel grace is doing to you."
"What if I don't want to know?" I asked. "What if I don't want to open that box?"
"Then you'll never know." Crowley said. "And you'll have to live knowing that you let your fear and shame get the better of you." He stared at the board. Neither of us had really touched it for the rest of the game. "It's your choice." He said, standing to straighten his tie. "I have to go. I have my own business to attend to. Think about what I've said." He paused. "Don't die." He said the last words as almost an afterthought before disappearing.
