This chapter has been edited.

They had checked out the hospital, and spoken with a nurse about the outbreak, with absolutely no clues as to the whereabouts of Pestilence. They were currently in the car on the phone with Bobby who was tracking the outbreaks, which were going across the States from West to East.

"What, so we just head East? That leaves a whole country ahead of us."

"I don't know what else to say Sam, East is our best option." Came the crackly voice of the old hunter over the phone speaker. Sam sighed, thanked Bobby, and hung up.

"East." Said Dean through the silence.

"East." Sam confirmed, and they both sighed to themselves.

"Say, I've got an idea." In the same moment, Dean swerved the car to a stop on the side of the road and Sam spun around and stabbed the seat where Crowley's voice had come from. "Fancy a fag and a chat?" Crowley stood next to the passenger's side of the parked car, leaning down so he could speak in through the open window. The Winchesters' threw their doors open and stepped out. Sam immediately went after the now backing up demon. "You're upset, I get that."

"You knew the colt wouldn't work against the Devil!" Sam shouted, continuing his advance. Crowley was pinned between the Winchesters now. "We lost people on that suicide run. Good people!" Sam shouted. He brought the knife up to where the demon stood, but only managed to slice the air as Crowley teleported to behind Dean, not unlike a scared child.

"Call your dog off, please." Dean spun to face Crowley, but held Sam back from attacking again.

"Give me one good reason."

"I can give you Pestilence, that's got your interest doesn't it?"

"Are you actually listening to this?" Sam had turned around to face Dean, a disgusted look on his face.

"Sam-"

"Are you friggin' nuts!"

"Would you shut up for a second?!"

"Shut up the both of you!" Both Winchesters turned to the demon, awestruck by the outburst. "Look, I thought the Colt would work, I swear. Honest mistake, but it doesn't change things. I still want the devil dead. Well, one thing has changed, now the devil knows I want him dead. Which by the way, makes me the most buggered son in all of creation – "

"Holy crap, we don't care." Dean cut in, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. Crowley continued.

"I've been on the run, living under a rock like a bloody salamander, and now I'm in the exact place I shouldn't be; in the middle of the road, talking to Sam and Dean Winchester, UNDER A FRIGGIN' SPOTLIGHT!" He pointed to the streetlamp illuminating the street above them and shattered into pieces, raining bits of glass to their left. Sam's grip tightened around the blade as he glanced sideways at Dean who was regarding the demon with a bored expression. Crowley adjusted his suit and cleared his throat before continuing at a much lower volume. "So, do you want the Horseman rings or not?" At Sam and Dean's surprised look he added. "Yes, I know all about that. Shall we?" He gestured to the Impala, and after a few moments hesitation, they all piled in.

Sam and Dean followed Crowley into the old, abandoned house, a mile down the road from where they had met up. "Here we are, my life on the lamb, how the mighty have fallen. Single pane glass, used contraception in the fireplace." He gestured toward the hearth and a roaring fire sprang to life, crackling merrily and bathing the room in a flickering orange glow.

"My heart's bleeding for you, now how do you know about the rings?"

"Ah, well... I've been keeping a close eye on you lot."

"We got hex bags, we're hidden from demons." Sam said defiantly.

"All but one. You see, when you broke into my house - our first date - I had my valet hide a tracking device in your car. A magical coin that easily trumps your little bags o' bones. It lets me hear things too, even if you're not in the car. It's a fun little coin, I can hear everything going on inside the building that your car's even in the parking lot of." He paused for emphasis, smiling dastardly at them. "And my, the things I've heard…" Dean and Sam exchanged the look of a deer in the headlights, both thinking the same thing. Crowley cleared his throat and the hunters attentions snapped back to him. "Seems like our little Dean has been having affiliations with a certain angel." He leaned forward toward Dean whose mouth was agape and eyes wide. "Really, it's okay to like men. Daddy can't think any less of you." Dean went from scared to furious in a split second.

"You little-" He shouted and took a step forward, ready to swing, but Sam grabbed his jacket and pulled him back.

"It would also seem as though a certain younger Winchester told the aforementioned angel to leave his brother alone." Sam dropped his hold on Dean and wished he had let him take that swing. He gaped at the stocky demon in the crisp Armani suit with his smarmy British accent and couldn't remember the last time he had hated someone so much.

"You what?" Sam turned to look at Dean, and immediately he wished he hadn't. The look on Dean's face was a grotesque mask of hatred, anger, and unfathomable pain. It was almost as though Sam was watching his heart break.

"Now, Dean it wasn't like that. I-I-" Sam held his hands up in surrender as Dean advanced toward him. Sam stepped back, but Dean pushed forward until they were chest to chest.

"You told him to leave?!"

"No! I told him to give you some space. You know, so you could figure things out." Sam dropped his arms by his sides where they flopped helplessly.

"SPACE?!" Dean roared. Before Sam knew it there was a fist flying toward his face, which he dodged, but he wasn't quick enough to dodge the other one which nailed him right in his right side. Pain blossomed from his kidney, he gasped and clutched his side.

"I thought I was helping." He said feebly as he was shoved backward into the wall. Dean landed another hit in his ribs and one in his face, he could taste blood. Sam tried to shield his face with his arms, but left himself open for a gut shot, which Dean took, knocking the wind out of him. He doubled over in pain and promptly received another shot to the head. White clouded his vision and his ears were ringing, he flung his fists wildly but was blocked deftly. His vision cleared as he Dean grabbed his collar and pulled him up so they were eye level.

"It's your fault he's gone." Dean spat through gritted teeth. Sam could feel the rage seething out of his brother, and suddenly he wasn't so sure why he had told the angel to leave. None of his excuses or thoughts made sense. He shook his head, defeated.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam pleaded. "I didn't know he would do that." Dean's eyes softened slightly, but his grip did not. He threw Sam to the floor and stormed off into the next room. Sam lay on the floor, trying to catch his breath around the choking iron taste of his own blood. He saw a pair of shiny black shoes in his peripherals. He didn't have to look up to know Crowley was standing over him. "Why did you tell him?" Sam asked, sitting up slowly and wincing at the pain in his side, he suspected he had a broken rib or two.

"I thought he should know. Besides, you can't come on this particular adventure, and I just knew he'd start saying 'I'm not going without Sam'," The demon shrugged his shoulders "It's just easier this way, wouldn't you agree?" He stood straight and followed Dean into the other room. They held a quiet conversation and before long Dean left out the front door, Crowley in tow. He paused and turned to Sam. "Be good, moose. The adults are going to go do some business." And with the sound of the front door shutting, all was quiet. Sam dropped his head to the floor with a quiet 'flumf' as he was left alone to reflect on his decisions.