Chapter 41

Gilgash assaulted Crowley, angry tears coursing down his face, "You got him killed you, monster!" The human blood thrummed through Crowley's heart and he felt almost guilty.

Suddenly Gilgash left off, he looked savagely at Crowley and sneered, "You never deserved her, did you know that?"

"It sounds like I didn't, Gilly." Crowley groaned.

Gilgash dropped to the ground, looking suddenly exhausted, he cradled his face in his hands and muttered, "What am I doing?"

Crowley cocked a bloodied eyebrow, "Whatever do you mean, little demon?"

Gilgash looked upward and said in a breathy voice, "Is this what you would want, My Lady?"

He pushed himself back to his feet and looked tiredly at Crowley, his eyes resting over the damage he had done, "What's it like?"

"I would have thought you'd remember, I had you in this position just a few hours ago."

Gilgash ignored him, "I mean...the human blood? What's it like?"

"Thinking of picking up a habit?"

Gilgash absentmindedly stroked Bones' head, "It's been so long. I've been this thing for so long." he looked up at Crowley with wide black eyes, "I was a Captain. A good Captain and a good man."

He ran his hands through his hair, "You damaged her." he accused, he leapt to his feet, angry again, "You cut a door for Michael and you made a deal with him" he rushed forward, his knife poised setting it roughly to Crowley's throat, "You could have saved the child but you condemned him."

Gilgash's chest rose and fell heavily, "She was never as she was before."

Crowley looked up at him, there was a itching part of mind that told him that under normal circumstances he wouldn't care. The human blood pumped steadily in his veins. "Didn't you ever tell her?" he asked quietly, "I'd have thought you'd have told her the second you got the chance."

Gilgash's knife fell to the floor and he turned away, "Yes." His voice was hollow. "Yes, Hades, I told her. I told her and she still did not leave your side. I told her that it was your fault Lucifer was growing mad inside his cage. I told her it was you who paid for Prince Dean's death. I told her that I saw you cut a door for Michael. And still she loved you." His voice broke and he was nearly in tears.

Crowley did not have any words, he hung silently, looking at Gilgash.

Rivulets of tears slipped down Gilgash's high cheekbones, "I want so badly to kill you, Hades." he whispered. "But my lady would not want you dead. She never wanted you dead."

He crouched by the rope tied to the bedpost that kept Crowley suspended in the air. Bones nuzzled him and he patted his big snout, "I'm sorry Bonesey," he said solemnly, "I can't do it."

Bones whined against him, "I know," he said, kissing his wet nose, "I want her back too." He cut the rope and Crowley tumbled to the floor.

Crowley eased his way to his feet, massaging his throbbing wrists, "What did you say?"

Gilgash glowered up at him from behind Bones, "I want her back, filth!" He screamed, "I want her back and you're the only one who can bring her back and I can't do it!"

Crowley held very still, he could hear the blood pounding in his ears, "I can bring her back? How?"

Gilgash rose slowly and walked toward Crowley, he had dropped the knife and extended his shaking hands, he reached out and nearly touched Crowley, who tilted backward to avoid the contact.

Gilgash looked up at him with pleading eyes, "All you have to do is die."

Everything slowed down and Crowley stared open mouthed at Gilgash. His instinct, of course, was to sneer in this moronic demon's snot nosed face and send some more loyal demons to kill him. "Die?"

Those stories he had read. The woman he had held onto so briefly. A queen who ruled beside him. Someone who did not cast him aside no matter the horrors he inflicted. If she had stayed even after he had had her son murdered, what was there that he could do that would drive her away?

His heart beat erratically. For a moment he could just remember the tingle she had left on his lips. He thought of the lonely embrace of the throne of Hell.

Gilgash's terrible whisper sliced into him, "She would bring you back, you know." He approached again, "It wouldn't be like last time." He said in a rush, "You wouldn't be destroyed by the claws of a Hellion. She could save you!" He pressed his hands against Crowley's cheeks, "She could restore you! You and she," he paused, his eyes trembling, "Could reign on forever."

Crowley swatted his hands away, "You hate me."

Gilgash shrugged as though it meant nothing, "As though she would rest while you were gone."

Crowley pushed back his hair, he found he couldn't breathe properly, the very human blood he had put in his veins seemed to be burning its way out of him and he said horrifically, "Yes."

Gilgash nearly tumbled to his knees, "What?" he breathed.

"Yes." Crowley said viciously, "Yes. Bring her back."

Gilgash's eyebrows pressed together with hope, "To bring her back? To restore her life and save the creature who spent the ten thousand years of her life loving you, you wish for me to kill you?"

Crowley gritted his teeth, his heart raced, it was as though he was drunk, "Yes."

XXXXX

The Letter from the Bunker

Dad, the things that I have done. I wanted so badly to do as you would have done. I wanted into the marrow of my bones to be a Winchester. But you died so long ago and I was so young.

I did not grow up like you did, Dad. You suffered under the brutality of your errant father alongside your trembling baby brother. Every moment of your life you had a family next to you. You cut your teeth on keeping Uncle Sammy safe, you were baptized in keeping him alive.

I was so alone. I was alone for so long and with Crowley for so long. I thought that it was all about him. I shattered when my son, my little Dean, who I named for you and wanted to grow up to be as brave and as strong and as right as my heroic father. Who could do all of the things that I had failed to do. Since I was too young to understand what it was, my son, my Dean was blood. And like everything else I had cared for, I let him die.

The things that I have done. And the things that I have left undone. Did you lose yourself in blood? Because I did. I did. I did. Michael looked upon Lucifer. Every angel looked upon Lucifer. He was a mad thing. He tore at his chains and raged. His wings tore the air. The sounds of a beast ripped from his throat. His eyes glowed with a terrible light.

The chains slipped along the fingers of the angels holding Lucifer bound between them. The angels flinched into motion. Others came forward to hold him alongside their brothers. The angels holding me lurched forward and their grips softened.

I smelled my son's blood hot in the burning air. Noises refused to batter their usual route into my ears. Around that brute dripping in Winchester blood the other angels blurred. My face was carved from stone and did not crease. I twisted and freed a single hand from the grip of the angels.

I moved so smoothly, a snake in water. Mad surety. I rolled a knife from my hip and the angel who had allowed my freedom turned her body to block my throw at Michael's throat. But I did not turn the blade on the archangel, but on my self. I didn't feel the sting as the sigil Michael burnt onto my skin fell away. I felt the rumble of Hell.

The angels behind me were being pulled away, vines wrapping tightly about them, crushing them. I had eyes only for Michael.

He turned and saw me.

My voice was not like Lucifer's. His bled in wrath. Mine was soft and lanced with ice. "Michael." I addressed.

I rose like Death into the air and he fell back, "How!" he started.

I did not laugh or gloat but looked through his eyes, my lips still, the air of Hell twisted and my voice echoed out of it from every corner at once, "Did you believe me to be helpless, Michael? Did you believe the only threat lay with your brother? Do you not know that Hell was forged from my blood? You looked upon me and you saw a pitiable human. A waifling taken with the beauty of your brother and heady with power over the dead. Do you refuse to see me, or are your eyes too weak to perceive me! I am the stones you burn and the air your breath. I am the palace you sack and the blood you spill."

Lucifer's body still lashed at his chains and churned the air. Mine was still. Soldiers formed of the stones of Hell rose around Michael and thrust their spears upon him. With a roar he leapt into the air after me. The army of angels, all grounded for the spectacle of my son's execution slipped into soft mud that hardened around their feet and only Michael faced me, high above them.

His face was dark and his sword bright. He snarled. My face remained impassive. He tried to knock me from the air but I could not be touched. He charged, his sword leading, wings high on the attack. I turned out of the way in the air and my stone soldiers threw their spears, slicing him across the side.

He looped above me after his charge and flew down hard. I did not have a chance to move and his sword glimmered. Inexplicably, he missed, only striking me with the hilt along the shoulder. Even that was enough to knock me nearly to the ground. But Hell continued to embrace me. Stone lances shot up around me and pierced his wing. He fell from the sky and I caught him in his descent.

He gripped me and we tumbled through the air, neither able to entirely support our combined weight in the air. A fury was growing in his eyes and stones pelting from Hell bruised and crushed him. He threw me and I struck the ground, the wind fleeing from my lungs. The ground beneath me was burning and I could barely garner enough power from the wounded piece of Hell to get me back on my feet.

Before I could roll up he landed atop me, his knees planted on either side of me, fists coming down like vicious hammers. His eyes were mad. His bleeding wing was tucked in close but the other thrashed as his brother's had. I wondered if he had ever been wounded.

My vision darkened at the edges. The Hell stones assaulting him were weakening and he seemed nearly not to notice. Even with all of Hell around me, would he still defeat me.

I shadow fell over him and very briefly, his weight on my chest lessened. I was being hoisted up. We were running, someone with an arm supporting me. Air pushed back into my lungs and my eyes were clearing.

I pulled away, "No! I have to fight!"

Crowley looked back at me.

"Bobby, come on, he'll kill you!"

I screamed in a hoarse voice, "So what!"

Crowley sneered demeaningly at me, "If you're dead you can't kill him."

I felt it then, like a wave. My skin was burnt, my torso bruised, my face broken. I tumbled.

Crowley caught me and heaved me back up, "Come on, Bobs. Run."

I don't know how we outran Michael, I don't know how we escaped or out of what back passage we slipped. But we were out and crawling onto Earth and the only blood family I had ever scraped together was rotting. I should say, I didn't know then. But I was to learn.

I couldn't focus. I allowed Crowley to take the lead. We, after all, had a job to do. The first job I had ever had to do. We had to hunt the Hellions. I churned the old rhetoric in my head, that this was the most important thing that I could ever do. I sliced into eyes the memory of a dead world and a dead father. But I wanted to sleep.

Since we had fled the dead world on the blood of the first boy I had ever sworn to protect, I had been riddled with so much torment. Had there been a time when guilt hadn't made it hard to breathe? How many was I going to have to let down? How much death did I have to carry? Dad, I was not strong enough for vengeance.

The things that I have done. Even hundreds of years later, mornings came where I was awoken by hungry crying only to find silence.

Crowley and I were in our library. This was a good day, I had heard from Gabey, he had a girl. It made me feel warm and alive. It was things like this that kept me. Gabriel who still wrote me letters and told me when he was in love. I was reading it to Crowley, who was smiling idly, when the window over us shattered, covering us in glass.

I leapt up, drawing a weapon from my belt, fearing the worst. How might this end if it were Castiel coming upon us?

But it was not Castiel. A young man stood there among the shattered glass, he was small of stature and slight. For a moment I didn't know him. His eyes looked at me, a shining black and he held out his hand. It was in his movements that I knew him. It was my Captain, dearest Gilgash whom I thought to be lost in Hell. I did not address that he was a demon, I didn't want to ask what horrors had been visited on him to turn him into this. I had missed him too badly. My face split, "Gil!" I shouted and my heart swelled.

But his face was not jubilent, it was deadly and ashen. Crowley shifted beside me, his body stiff.

"My Lady!" Gil cried, the voice from this body had the same cadence but was higher than Gilgash's usual raspy baritone, "I have been hunting you very many years! Listen quickly!"

"Silence!" Crowley ordered but Gilgash did not listen. "How did you get in!"

But I didn't care. He was my dearest friend and his face was stony with anger, "My Lady you must know! I know how Michael got through the walls!" My eyes fixed upon him and grew cold. How long had he been waiting to tell me this?

"My Lady." he breathed, "I have been searching for you for hundreds of years! I have ached to be at your side and tell you what I have seen!"

I asked in a quiet voice, "Then why didn't you? Why did it take you so long? I thought you were dead!"

"I'm sorry, Persy." He said with desperation. How could I not forgive him?

He pressed on and the chill slipped back into his tone, "Hades kept you from me. He led you around the Earth away from my grasp. I have hunted you. But he was too evasive."

"Why would he keep you away from me?" I asked looking at Crowley with a furrowed brow.

He might have hidden it from another who had spent less time with him, but I had been at his side for so many thousands of years. There wasn't an emotion or thought that he could hide from me. He was afraid.

Crowley snarled at Gilgash, "I had good reason-"

But Gilgash cut him off, "Oh you most certainly did! I saw him, My lady! It was Hades. I saw him open the wall. I heard him make his deal with Michael."

Crowley snarled in a high voice, "They were getting through! I made leverage to keep you alive!"

Gilgash ignored him, "My Lady." He said, devastation and anger in his voice, "He paid for the death of Prince Dean! It was in his terms! The Queen is to live and the Nephalim to die! Michael might have landed the blow, but, My Lady, Hades killed him."

This was not like when I attacked Michael. My blood didn't chill and my voice didn't leave me. I wasn't calculating or reserved. This was what Lucifer felt when he saw his big brother slaughter his little son. This was not an enemy soldier who was fighting a war. This was Crowley.

He was the person whose heartbeat lulled me to sleep. The person who had held me together with Zeus tore me apart. The person who stroked my hair when my soul was wounded so deeply I couldn't breathe. I think I may have loved Lucifer more. But Crowley was my person. He was the person who had killed my son.

Dark red rage jettisoned through my veins like venom and I snarled a beast's roar. My vision was singular and damning. He scrambled backwards and fled down the hallway. I didn't wait for Gilgash or call for his return. I followed in a predator's hunt.

I careened through the passageways and could nearly smell him in the air. My son's masacre pounded hotly in my blood.

I leapt from the top of the circular stairs that led to the great hall and landed atop him.

"Bobby!" He rasped, "Bobby, please!" I stilled for a moment and his eyes shone desperately, "Bobby, I can explain everything! I love you." It was that, I think, that did it. He had never said that to me. I had always presumed it true. He loved me. I could feel my heart beating behind my eyes.

I ripped his throat out with my hands. Under my nails his body sparked a glowing red like bloody lightning and then went out. Under my knees there was no heartbeat in his chest.

XXXXX

Gilgash's soft and tremulous face split into a nasty grin and Bones leapt over him, crushing Crowley to the ground. Bones did not wait, he did not growl or hesitate but slashed through Crowley's throat like knives.

XXXXX

Dean, who was gripping the little book, jumped. The room around him, the floor beneath him, was shimmering blue and rippling.

AN: ONE MORE CHAPTER AFTER THIS ONE GUYS! Sorry about the wait! I hope you all enjoyed it!