I almost called Crowley, but I stopped before my hand could reach my pocket. I'd burned my new phone, but not only did they have my other one, they'd had it tapped for a long time. Granted, it could've been T.J.'s or my phone tapped, but I didn't know. I couldn't know for sure. Either way, I needed a new phone, a new place to lie low, just a lot of new. Until I knew more, I couldn't take any chances. But I couldn't learn more until I was in a safer place, one I was certain hadn't been compromised.
I didn't have my laptop on me, but I wished I did, even though I would have to scan it later for any bugs. Danny was good, she was a genius, but I wasn't certain if she could protect it from the Men of Letters. I needed… I needed…
I needed to take a breath, to be calm, and to assess the situation logically. I couldn't break down and cry, not now. I couldn't let my emotions get the better of me, or else my magic would go wild and give me away.
I needed to be calm, to be confident and assured and make sure I didn't make any mistakes.
I looked down at my clothes. I'd bought these with Men of Letters money. I needed new clothes. I needed a phone, one the Men of Letters hadn't touched.
And I needed to get in touch with Crowley. He might be able to hide me in Hell. I couldn't ask Sam and Dean because they were still too close, it wouldn't be safe to try and get in touch with them. I couldn't ask Mary either. I couldn't even ask Cas because he was still MIA, out with the angels, and going to him when he and the Men of Letters were working toward the same goal… I shook my head. I couldn't risk that.
On the bright side, he would at least know that I was still alive.
I took another breath, making sure I was calm before using a spell I hadn't had to use in a long time. I would be unrecognizable, again, but the energy spike wouldn't go unnoticed. I had twenty minutes, max, before I was found. Twenty minutes to get new clothes, a new phone, and a hiding place.
I could do that. I had to believe I could do that.
I started walking, keeping my head down and my steps quick. If I teleported somewhere, it would send up another flare, and get them on me faster. So I had to walk to the nearest clothing store, five minute walk. From there, I needed a phone. Any phone.
I hadn't done this in a while. I found a random passerby with a phone in their pocket, and picked it off of them with ease. I needed a wallet, too. Maybe three, to alternate between cards used. I grabbed four. Two male, two female, all entirely different people. I used the cash from the first one to pay for clothes (not a lot on them, but just enough to for some baggy clothes and hair dye).
I stopped at a gas station next, and got to work with the worst hair dye job I've ever done in my life (a shitty brown dye job). But I didn't have a lot of time to be picky about it, so it would have to do.
I burned the old clothes in that same bathroom, and left before the sprinkler system could turn on. Once I was done I sat in an alley and took a short inventory. One briefcase with contents I couldn't finish looking at yet. Four wallets, one of which had zero cash. The other three had varying amounts of money, plus a few credit and debit cards. One new set of clothes and…
One phone.
I had Crowley's number memorized. I dialed it with ease, and he answered it on the third ring. "Hello, this is the hotline to hell, named such because," I interrupted before he finished.
"Crowley, it's me. I need your help." I stated, trying to keep the urgency out of my voice. I couldn't keep all of it out, though, and enough creeped in for him to hear.
"Kylie?" He asked. "Where have you been? What's wrong?"
"Long story short, I need to hide." I said, looking around. "Please. I need you to help me get in to Hell. I can't teleport there, but then again nobody else can either." I laughed a little. "I just need somewhere I can't be found."
"What about the cabin in Utah?"
"I think it's been compromised." I argued. "I can't go there. Please," I knew I sounded desperate. I was fully aware of how desperate and scared I sounded. "I need somewhere I can't be tracked or found."
"Where are you?" Crowley finally asked. "I'll come to you."
"Can't," I shook my head, looking around more. "London. They'll find you. I doubt that they're far behind me. If I'm teleporting out I need to get somewhere safe."
"Alright. Can you meet me at the cantina?" He asked. I thought about it. Probably wouldn't be monitored. Not really any Hunters nearby. I disappeared and reappeared there automatically, sitting in a booth in the corner.
"I'm there now." I said. The line went dead, and Crowley walked in a moment later. He looked around, not seeing me.
Oh yeah. New hair. New clothes.
I waved him over, and nodded, sitting across from me. "You look different." He stated. "What did you do to your hair? It looks like you destroyed it with…" He paused for a moment. "Well, I'd rather not be impolite about it."
"Crowley," I clenched my fist tighter around the handle of the briefcase. "I've just learned a lot of shit that I wasn't quite prepared to learn today. Everything has just been turned upside-down around me and I need help." I threw up a spell around us, keeping others out of hearing our conversation. "Please tell me you can help me."
He sat, watching me closely. "You're scared." He said.
"Yeah." I admitted, looking around. Just because I had a spell up here didn't mean they wouldn't have people here anyways. "I really am, Crowley." He hadn't seen me scared before, not like this. Determined, yes. Angry, yes. A little happy even, yes. But scared, especially like this…
No. He hadn't seen me scared before.
That was how important this was.
"Please, Crowley, I need you to take me to Hell." I requested again. "I need somewhere I can't be found. I promise, I'll tell you everything, but first I just need a place to hide."
Crowley nodded. "I'll get you there. I promise."
"Thank you." I let out a sigh of relief, slumping back in my seat a little bit. "Thank you. Can we please leave now? I'm sorry. I know I'm rushing about this, but I don't feel comfortable being out like this for too long."
"Do you want a drink first?" He offered. "You look like you could use one." I looked around again, making sure there was absolutely no chance of Hunters or Men of Letters operatives anywhere.
"OK," I agreed, doing my best to calm down. "Sorry, I must seem like a total mess."
"Don't worry," Crowley assured me. "Things will be alright."
"How are you so certain?" I asked.
"Because you were like this when I first met you," he responded. "And you made it through that without dying."
"Didn't you end up killing me?"
"That's beside the point." Crowley said, getting up. "I'm going to get us two drinks, and then we'll go to Hell."
"Thank you." I repeated. "Just… I can't thank you enough, Crowley."
"Don't worry," he assured me. "Everything will be fine."
After we drank, e took me back to, well… Hell. I didn't trust the cabin. I didn't trust the Bunker. I didn't trust anywhere that I had been before or that the Men of Letters could get to me from. I trusted Crowley, though, and I trusted that he would keep me safe.
So I hid out in Hell. Only one demon found it worthwhile to make an attempt against me, and in turn only one demon during my stay met an extremely unfortunate demise. In my defense, I asked Crowley first and was in a very volatile state. I had every reason to be.
I knew. I knew so much.
I knew that the second they'd got wind of who I was, they worked frantically to formulate a plan. A powerful, impressionable, trainable witch. One that, to them, could be weaponized or killed. A tool.
That was all I was to them. A tool. A fucking tool. I wasn't one of them, and I never was. I was just something they were going to use until I no longer became convenient to them. I was a means to an end. Hell, they were the ones leaking the fucking information on me! They were finished with me, finished with having "an impure being that is a true menace to this Earth" on the payroll. I made my way through the rest of the files as efficiently as I could, taking notes by hand as I did. I wanted to send all of this information to Sam and Dean, to warn them, but I didn't know how. Anything I did would send up a flare and probably cause them to be killed. I couldn't even pass a message along to Castiel. With the amount of reach they had…
Every electronic device they owned was tapped. They knew where everyone was. They knew what everyone was up to. The only thing they (hopefully) didn't know now was where I was.
It was insane, though, the way they kept track of everyone. I just… I couldn't believe it. It was creepy and made me feel so violated. There were transcriptions of conversations I'd had with Crowley, with T.J., with Sam and Dean and Mary and Cas and absolutely everyone I knew. There were notes about the calls, notes about my actions, notes about fucking everything. They were sterile, calculatory… emotionless.
Very, very, very violated right there, man. So violated I needed about 12 showers.
I took a break, eventually, after going through all the files concerning me, T.J., Louis, Dean, Sam, Mary, and Cas. It was awful to read about their plans for Mary, and about Lady Bevell's specialty. I just had to hope they hadn't started with it yet, or else… Or else she ran the risk of breaking her brain if we wanted to bring the real Mary back.
I didn't need to read much about Mick's, and in all honesty I was terrified about Ketch's. He had killed Mick, but he had been my friend. Ketch had brought me in to this. I knew if I opened that file, it would hurt more than it helped.
Granted, though, all of this hurt more than helped. It just helped enough to make it all worth reading and watching and…
I had to puke once or twice throughout reading all of it though. It made me feel sick and it all hurt so much. I didn't know how to deal with all of it. I wasn't even certain if I wanted to. I just…
I thought I was good.
I thought I was finally good, finally doing good and helping to make the world better.
Instead I was working for people that were willing to kill me off at a moments notice. I… I slaughtered so many vampires. I was sent to kill Eileen. Who… what…
How many bad things had I done for them?
So when I took a break, doodling spell outlines that I had been working on. There was still that one, the one that I could create with ease but had no clue as to what its purpose was. There was a large symbol in the center, bunch of ingredients in a bowl and some blood and... It seemed imbalanced. There were things missing.
Hell, my own life was imbalanced with things missing at that moment. How did I know I wasn't just projecting that on to the spell?
There was a knock on the door, bringing out of my own thoughts. I waved it open, but didn't bother looking as Crowley walked in.
"Hello."
"Hey." I knew I didn't look well. I hadn't really left this room since I'd been here. I'd just taken… so many notes. Watched and learned so much information.
Well, that's a lie. The only time I left was to deal with that demon. But other than that, I'd stayed out of the way and cooped up in the room.
"Have you slept?" That made me look at him.
"Is this a new parenting thing you're trying out?" I asked in response, raising an eyebrow as I faked a smile.
"You haven't." He answered himself, giving me a once-over.
"I don't require it." I replied, raising my arm so he could see the etchings I'd done. I'd been casting spells on myself to stay awake as I went through everything. They were better than the pep pills that Kevin had had.
"That's a dangerous thing to do." Crowley pointed out.
"Yeah, well…" I shrugged, searching for a response. I was surprised to find that I didn't have one. "You know, I don't know. I honestly don't have a good snide comment or defense right now."
"You are in bad shape." He commented, taking a seat beside me. I ran a hand through my hair, ignoring the nots and tangles and feel of grease.
"It… It's been a lot to take in." I said, looking at the files scattered about me. "There's one in here on you too, you know." He raised an eyebrow at that.
"Really?"
"Yeah. That and one titled 'Project Demon.'" I motioned to the folders in question, ones that I had separated from the others. "I haven't looked at them yet."
"Why not?"
"Invasion of your privacy." I said. "Plus, I'm pretty certain it'll be the same as the rest. Kill everything not human. A detailed dossier of who you are, including strengths and weaknesses. The whole spy-guy shebang." I rested my head in my palms, hating everything about this. "And I probably led them to a lot of the information, in all honesty."
"That is complete and utter bullocks." Crowley stated. I picked up the file nearest to me, the one on vampires, and waved it around.
"Really? Is it?" I asked. "I helped them exterminate so many vampires, Crowley. I helped them kill the Alpha."
"Isn't that supposed to be some sort of Hunter wet dream?"
"Not if it was for the wrong reasons." I replied. "I killed them whether they had killed or not. We had no way of knowing whether or not they were bad vampires or good ones."
"Why aren't all vampires bad?" He asked. "I know all demons are bad. I am one."
"Because all vampires can't be bad!" I replied, throwing the file down. "Because if all vampires are bad then that means you can apply that same logic to all inhuman creatures. All werewolves are bad. All shapeshifters are bad. All demons are bad. All angels are bad. All…" I stopped myself from going on for a second, but I had to face the fact. "All witches are bad." I finally said, my voice much quieter. "If everything that isn't pure, normal human is bad… Then… Then I'm bad." I concluded, turning to Crowley. "And I'm going to Hell, because witches are just human enough to not go to Purgatory."
"They're also just human enough to go to Heaven." Crowley replied. I furrowed my brows at him, confused.
"Name one witch that's in Heaven." I dared him. He didn't respond, just sat there and thought. I returned my gaze to my files, my head sinking. "I thought so." I muttered. "I thought I was creating a new world, a better one. I thought I was good. Instead I just… I helped commit a genocide, and helped lay the groundwork to do more. I destroyed more than I created." I let out a hoarse laugh. "Hell, I was vouching for Kelly to have a choice in whether or not she had Lucifer's kid, and she's gonna have it, and it's just going to lead to more destruction." I shook my head, looking at my hands for a moment. I remembered when I was scared to look at them, the first time I killed a demon with them. An angel blade had been in the floorboards. I had just stabbed and hoped, and watched it bleed like a normal human.
Demons were humans once. So was everything else. Every impure thing used to be human, but… But they weren't anymore. No monster ever went to Heaven. No monster was every good enough to be considered that good.
Why should I have ever thought I was better than my own kind?
"I should've just let Lucifer kill me." I decided. "Or Sam and Dean, or any Hunter. I should've just done the right thing that all Hunters do, and put a bullet through my damn skull."
"Don't you dare say that." Crowley hissed, his voice a tense kind of anger.
"Why not?" I asked. "It's the truth."
"No, it's the self-deprecating bullshit you're telling yourself." He replied. "Not the truth."
"Then what is the truth, Crowley?" I asked. "What about what I said was wrong? I saw myself as better than my own kind, above them and everything else."
"Did you ever see yourself above me?" He asked.
"Of course not." I replied, not even thinking about it. I just… I never had. "I saw you as my equal."
"And Castiel?"
"Cas doesn't count."
"But he does." Crowley replied. "Castiel is as inhuman as me. We both require meatsuits to hold a physical form. The only difference is that I was a human originally, but look at me now. I run Hell. I torture souls for sport."
"That's in your nature."
"Is it also in my nature to harbor you?" He asked. "To train you? To speak with you freely, as though we are equals?" I didn't answer that. "Your nature is magic. What you do with it is entirely your choice, but those choices aren't set in stone. They are yours and yours alone."
"I think you're making it worse." I pointed out.
"Just shut up and listen." He said. "What was the first thing I taught you?"
"How to draw up a contract with a demon that doesn't involve selling my soul." I said. Crowley stopped for a second, thinking.
"I believe you technically taught yourself that." He pointed out. "But fine. What was the second thing I taught you?"
"How cast and subsequently rein in fire." I replied.
"How to create and destroy." Crowley simplified. "Magic isn't just about fire and destruction and binding and control and death; it is not defined by simple, black and white terms like good or bad. You can work with both parts of the spectrum, in a sense."
"I create things of destruction." I answered. "All I've done with my magic is destroy."
"You created new wardings."
"I'm surprised they work.
"You created stories out of fire."
"An experiment."
"And yet it still worked, didn't it?" He asked. I didn't bother answering. "Magic is very much a yin and yang force. To create, you must destroy, and vice-versa."
"So how do I create and destroy, Crowley?" I asked. "Because even when I heal, I still somehow seem to destroy something around me. What exactly am I making? What good comes out of what I do anymore?" Crowley let out a sigh, and stood up.
"Come with me." He requested, putting a hand on my shoulder. In an instant, we were… In a field. An open, empty field. And it was dark. For a moment, I couldn't help but wonder exactly how long I'd been awake and in Hell.
"Where are we?" I asked.
"It doesn't matter."
"Crowley, if they find me I'm dead."
"You won't be found." He promised. I still threw up a silencing field around us, as a precaution. "I want you to try a new exercise."
"What am I doing?"
"You are going to make fireworks."
"Why?"
"Because I said so." I pursed my lips, glaring at him. I probably wouldn't be able to leave this field until I did it.
"This is lame and pointless." I pointed out, taking a moment to focus. I put both hands out, palms up, and thought about it. How would I do such a thing as to create fireworks? I could throw fire and summon it, that was a piece of cake. But make it explode in the air in to something new? That would be an interesting one. As an experiment I summoned a small fireball. It was green, and burning as bright as it could. I thought for maybe a moment longer before held my hand out and up, willing the small ball to shoot itself forwards. It did, and in an instant exploded in to something… Something new. Something kinda pretty. Green glimmering lights, all falling towards the ground in slow motion.
"Note to self." I muttered, summoning another. This one was pink. I did the same, and it created a small, simple flower shape as it fell towards the ground. A third, white, turned in to a basic wing shape.
I summoned a blue flame this time, and decided to see if I could control its shape. Something simple. A circle.
I focused on the idea of the blue circle, careful not to press too hard on it. Once I was sure I had the image solidified in my mind, I watched as my blue fire shot in to the air. As it exploded, it created a very wobbly and misshaped amoeba, vaguely in the shape of a circle.
But it was a start.
"Impressive." Crowley commented. The fires disappeared from my hands as though they never existed. In doing the exercise, I'd completely forgotten he had been there. I shook my head, clearing it out.
"Ok, I can make pretty exploding fireballs." I conceded. "I completed your exercise. What does that have to do with creation or destruction? All fire does is consume and destroy."
"Keep making them. I'll explain as you go." He said. I decided to take a seat. If I was going to listen to this and do the exercise, I was at least going to be comfortable.
"Fine." I agreed, summoning another fireball. This one was purple. I cast it out, a little haphazardly, but it still exploded in to a not-half-bad triangle. Another, a dark and burnt yellow, I tossed with more precision. This time, it managed to make a pretty decent pentagon. As I continued, so did Crowley.
"You create the fire, it's color and shape," Crowley opened his palm, and when I looked over I saw a small blue flame dancing across his palm. "And you destroy your own creation when you snuff it out." He closed his hand in to a fist quickly, then opened it again. No more fire. I threw out another one myself. It was black, and made a much better circle. "Situationally, you can destroy a plant or something if you create the fire, but you still end up destroying the fire as well." He added. "It's the same idea when you heal someone. To create their new life, you destroy parts of your own."
I thought on this for a while, this time lighting my fires and extinguishing them before they could become fireworks. "Why are you being kind to me?" I asked after a little bit. "And don't give me the protecting your assets bullshit again. If it were just that we wouldn't be out here. Why are you acting so much…" I thought for a moment, and remembered something Rowena had said a long time ago. "Like a dad?"
"I'm the King of Hell, darling, not a father figure." He answered, letting out a small snort. "Besides, I'm the least likely person to be a father figure. Look at my mother."
"You tried with Amara." I pointed out.
"I tried to coerce Amara in to doing my bidding by bribing her with false senses of security. Pure Stockholm work." He explained.
"You fed her, clothed her, and kept her safe."
"The Winchesters did the same for you."
"I looked at them like family." I responded. "And you did the same for me."
"Does that make me family?" He asked slyly. A year or two ago I would've snorted, and cast the idea aside as easily as I do fire. But now...
"I don't know." I finally said. "I think it at least makes you a very good friend."
"Why thank you." He said in mock surprise. "I do believe that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"Don't waste it, Crowley." I reminded him, going back to work on the fireworks exercise.
We stayed there in silence for a while until Crowley spoke again. "I don't know." He said decisively.
"What?" I asked, turning finally to look at him.
"You're right, my actions could be construed as those of a father figure, or some sort of family in general." He explained, turning to look at me. "But that's the way of magic. To create a new, more powerful witch, I had to destroy something in myself that could be considered quite evil. And as for your status of being Hell-bound or blessed," he paused to gather his words. "It depends on what you do, and what you have done. Have you ever purposefully killed another with your magic? Directly?"
"No." I didn't even know that those things, the bags Rowena invented to kill demons, would completely do. And when doing things for the Men of Letters…
They were very adamant on me using actual weapons on Hunts. My magic just went in to theorizing and helping create more effective ways of killing.
"Did you ever cast with a purposefully malicious intent?"
"No."
"Have you ever taken the life of an innocent?"
"Those vampires…" Crowley shook his head.
"Push past that. Did you?"
"Not that I know of." I said.
"Have you ever used your powers to alter the natural course of life?"
"What about healing?"
"Doesn't count. I mean necromancy, life conversions, or anything involving another's soul."
"What about angelic grace?"
"Angelic grace isn't a soul."
"Then no." I thought on that more. "But… Don't angels do that too? I know Castiel has brought Sam and Dean back from death a few times, as well as others. Can't angels change the natural course of life?"
"Angels get their power directly from God." Crowley pointed out. "Whereas we do not, at least most of us don't." He thought for a second. "However, with your answer still remaining no, I do believe I can move on to the next question. Have you sworn your allegiance to a specific demonic entity in which you gain your power from?"
"No."
"Then I doubt you're going to Hell when you die." He determined. "Using your magic with a purposefully malicious intent, and succeeding in doing so, will almost guarantee you a spot in hell."
"What about that demon?"
"You stabbed him with an angel blade." Crowley reminded me. "You haven't crossed that line yet, in terms of your magic. Not fully. Not unless it was in the name of defending yourself, I believe, and even then you I don't think you've really murdered anyone."
"I think I might one day." I said quietly. "I… I hate what they did, what they're doing. They're going to decimate everyone and everything. They're going to cleanse the world, as they put it. They're just…" I shook my head. "I hate what they made me do, and how they tricked me in to it. And I think that… I think I might kill them. I think I might burn it all to the ground."
"Don't do it." Crowley's response was quick, and surprising. I didn't think that he would be the one to say no on killing. "Don't cross that line."
"Why not?"
"Because you don't have to." He said. "Being a witch… It doesn't mean you have to go to Hell. It doesn't mean you're cursed or damned. It doesn't mean you can only be one person, and only have one way to go." I stopped my work in the exercise to think, and after a little bit took Crowley's hand without question when he offered it to help me up. As he helped me rise, we were transported back in the room he was letting me stay in. I watched him for a second, not certain as to what to say to that. "Just food for thought." He commented, looking around at the mess of files and notes that I had turned the room in to. "You should get some rest. And whenever you are ready to look at the files on myself and their plans for my kind, feel free to." He looked over at the files in question, a different look crossing his face. "Just allow me to answer any questions that arise from it." I looked at him, curious and confused.
"Do you know what's in it?" I asked.
"It's my life in one." He replied. "I'm quite certain I have an inkling."
"Alright, then." I agreed, looking over him. There was something odd about him, something that I wasn't catching. Maybe it was just in how he was acting and what he was saying, but something else…
No. It had to be the weirdly nice talk, combined with my lack of sleep for I don't even know how long.
"Thanks." I said, uncertain as to what else to say. "I… I'll let you know when I have those questions."
"Good." With that, he left the room to attend to whatever he normally attended to in Hell, whereas I started to organize the notes that cluttered the bed and the desk. From there, I just… Kind of crashed out on the bed, letting my swirling thoughts, for once, lead me in to sleep.
