CHAPTER 11
CARRY ON, MY WAYWARD SON
Crowley prowled the stage, grinning, waving his hands up and down, encouraging everyone in the audience to cheer louder. Finally, when they were at a fever pitch, he moved his hand across his throat a few times, indicating that he wanted silence.
"Sacrifice them to the Damnation Configuration!" Angel screamed from the audience.
"Now now," Crowley said. "Believe it or not, they're not the main attraction. Come out, Cris and Geoff. You, too, Reddington." He turned back to the crowd. "Let's give 'em a hand, folks!"
Reddington took a few bows while Cris and Geoff stood stiffly next to each other, not knowing what to do. "Who the fuck are all these people?" Geoff asked.
"They're your victims," Crowley said. "That's right, the two of you have been responsible for a lot of deaths, and their spirits are all out there right now. Say hi, boys."
"Uh, hi?" Cris said.
Everyone booed him.
"That's not all," Crowley continued. "Those who somehow survived your misadventures are also here. The ones whose loved ones you got killed."
"KILL THEM!" Doc Brown shouted.
"Yes, KILL THEM!" O'Neill yelled.
A chant rose up from the crowd. KILL THEM! KILL THEM! KILL THEM!
Crowley flashed a smile to the Zims. "You've caused a lot of misery, boys. Somehow, you've caused more misery than me, and I'm supposed to be the King of Hell."
"All right, Crowley," Dean said. He jumped up onto the stage, and behind him Sam and Castiel exchanged glances between them before following him. "What in the unholy fucking FUCK are you doing?"
"Temper, Dean. Remember, you're going to thank me soon."
"And what are you doing here, Reddington? Didn't Crowley turn on you last time?"
Reddington chuckled. "He did, didn't he? Well, by the time Geoff was done with Crowley, we suddenly discovered we had an enemy in common."
"So you've joined forces?" Sam asked. "That sounds weird even for you, Crowley."
"All right, we got the Zim brothers," Dean said. "So what? You're gonna kill them? Good. I regret the day I heard the name Zim. How's that going to help us?"
"Oh dear," Reddington said. "You think the Zims are the common enemy?"
"Speaking of which," Crowley said, "let's get to the guest of honor." He snapped his fingers, and the Damnation Configuration rotated, revealing a figure chained to it.
"Huh?" Cris muttered. "That's . . . that can't be."
"You see," Crowley said, "the Zims are victims just like the rest of us."
"I'm not falling for that shit," Dean said. "They're the worst people I've ever known. Did you even hear the I-thought-you-were-sleeping story?"
"Or the one about the tan pants?" Sam said. He shivered.
"The real common enemy is the cause of all our problems," Crowley said. "We're not here to kill the Zims. We're here to kill John Bruni."
Bruni looked down from the Damnation Configuration. He stared holes through Crowley and tried to say something through the gag around his mouth.
"Who?" Angel said.
"Who do you think caused your son to get killed?" Crowley said. "And then, a few Zimventures later, you? And what about SG-1? And you, Doc Brown? And the rest of you? All killed and tormented by John Bruni."
"Excuse me," an older man said. He had wild gray hair and held a Red Vine in one of his hands. "What about us? Why are we here?" He gestured to a young man and a cold looking female FBI agent.
"Consider yourself lucky, Walter Bishop," Crowley said. "John Bruni just finished watching Fringe. It was only a matter of time before you became intimately familiar with the Brothers Zim."
"Oh." Walter bit into the Red Vine.
"And me?" a large wrestler said. "Why am I here?"
"Ah," Crowley said. "It's the Miz. You're a fan request. Sorry."
"A fan request?" the Miz asked. "Why?"
"What's your name backwards?"
The Miz paused for a moment, and then his eyes went wide. "I . . . I'm gonna change my stage name."
"For the best," Crowley said.
"No," Dean said. "This is bullshit. It was the Zims."
"Dean, I think—"
"NOT NOW, SAM!"
"I think what Sam means," Crowley said, "is that Geoff Zim didn't really destroy Baby."
"Oh yeah? Then who did?"
Crowley hooked a thumb to Bruni. "He's the one who wrote it."
All the flames in Hell sparked up in Dean's eyes as he glanced up at Bruni. "Let's get the show on the road, then. KILL HIM."
Crowley held up a finger. "Not yet. Give me a moment." He approached Bruni, pulling a pen and paper out of nowhere. "You have something to do before you die, Mr. Bruni."
Bruni shook his head.
"You may be in Hell, but you're still alive. When you die, you'll be here for eternity. You might as well try to make it up to the boys." Crowley shoved the paper forward. "Write it down."
Bruni sighed through the gag. He nodded to his right hand. Crowley snapped his fingers, and it fell from the chain. He then gave Bruni the pen and let him write on the paper.
Before Dean's very eyes, the air on stage shimmered like a mirage. Something hot formed in the middle and then started expanding until it started taking shape. Dean gasped as he saw the 1967 Chevy Impala sparkle like brand new, like it had just rolled off the assembly line.
"Holy shit," Sam said.
Dean rested his head on the hood and gave Baby a kiss. "Good to have you back."
He then noticed something odd. The Ohio license plate now said CNK 80Q3. Weird.
Sam saw the confusion. "Forget it, Dean. It's Hell."
"I think it's time we got the fuck out of here," Dean said. "Get in."
"Shotgun," Sam said as he moved around the Impala. Castiel got in the back. Dean was about to get into the driver's seat when Crowley approached.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked.
"No," Dean said.
Sam elbowed him. "Just say it. Let's get out of here."
Dean sighed. "Fine." He turned to Crowley. "Thank you."
Crowley smiled. "See? I'm not such a bad guy."
Dean got in and started the Impala. It roared to life, and he grinned. "Let's get out of here."
As they drove off, Crowley turned back to the crowd. "Very well, friends. It's time to finish this. John Bruni is all yours."
The crowd howled as they ran up the stage and surrounded the Damnation Configuration, pulling it down, ripping John Bruni limb from limb as he tried to scream something through the gag. No one knew what it was, though, and it didn't matter. Vengeance was all that mattered.
"Well, that was weird," Geoff said. "All right, let's get out of here."
"Not so fast," Reddington said. He grabbed both Zims before they could escape. "Crowley's not done with you."
"I most certainly am not," Crowley said. "There's a reason you're the stars of this godawful series of fan fiction stories. You are truly despicable human beings, and you both deserve everything you're about to get."
"Goddammit!" Cris yelled. "I just want to take a fucking nap! You've made me suffer enough."
"Not quite," Crowley said. "Have you ever heard of the Cage?"
"No," Cris and Geoff said in unison.
"You're going to love it," Crowley said.
TO BE CONCLUDED . . .
