Author's note

It might not be the best ending, but it just came to me today. And it felt right to me.

On a cheerier note, I can finally see seasons 10 and 11!

Epilogue

He walked away from Lucifer, his beautiful mind as sharp as ever. He prioritized, subsuming all his decisions to the get the resources needed to win Naomi. First he made sure his reign of Hell was unchallenged. He let everyone know that he had contained Lucifer. He killed a few of the most prominent demons whom he knew had designs on his seat, and he did it in such extreme manner that the productivity of his troops skyrocketed for the following months.

When he returned into the world, Crowley looked for her. Discreetly at first, but the more time passed without any signs of her, the less cautious he became. He spread the rumor that he had unfinished business with her, making it clear that he was in the revenge for a something she did to him mood. None of his minions came up with anything, even after the big reward he offered for information about her.

After his contacts in the ranks of the angels assured him that Naomi hadn't ascended with them, he was getting ready to knock on Heaven's door to ask for an audience with Michael. He even asked the Winchesters and their pet angel about her a few weeks earlier. After the usual exchange of taunts and insults, they confirmed that Naomi hadn't returned to Heaven, nor was she anywhere on Earth as far as they knew.

Just to make sure, he organized a very thorough census in his dominion, just in case the sneaky angel had hid herself right under his nose. She was so totally likely to pull such a move just to make him look stupid.

He'd gone as far as to go to Rio and make a deal with Gabriel to allow him access to Purgatory in a way that ensured that none of the Leviathans got out. The tricky little bastard had gotten a very good deal for that particular favor, but Crowley counted it as a win since he was able to check that place off the list of possibilities for Naomi to hide. He had little hopes that she was there and the crisis in his kingdom which cut his search short was welcome. His foul temper was made fouler by his inability to find one blessed angel. He exercised his temper by another wave of executions of traitors or sympathizers of the previous regimes.

Before setting up the meeting with the last archangel, Crowley had a flash of inspiration. Visit the Winchesters old house. The one in which Azrael had killed Mary. The one in which Naomi and Michael had helped conceive Sam and Dean. He was surprised how not deserted it looked. He sensed the presence of the brothers, and now that he knew about it, he could just about discern a trace of Naomi in them and in that house. He manifested in their living room and was shocked to see John there, with the boys. He concentrated but there was no trace of Michael. Just John Winchester, as alive as he hadn't been for years.

"What are you doing here, Crowley?" Dean asked, sounding bored and annoyed at the same time.

"Just visiting. I did some spring cleaning and I have an upper management position that would be perfect for a Knight of Hell."

Dean rolled his eyes, but John spoke. He didn't yell or even raise his voice, but Crowley felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and a shiver go down his spine. There was no need for magic when a good man was speaking to a demon.

"You are not welcome here, demon. We do not hunt you now and you'd be wise to stay away."

It was Crowley's turn to roll his eyes. He did the casualness he didn't feel. There was something about the man... other than his basic goodness. He couldn't identify what it was, but it was making him very curious.

"What, not even offering me a drink or something? Weren't we allies in our fight against Lucifer just five minutes ago?"

John stood up as if to bodily throw him out of the house, when Mary came from the garden with a bunch of freshly cut flowers. Crowley froze. He understood what was so special about John. As soon as she entered the room. He sensed the trace of Naomi on her, and recognized than John had it, too, even if to a smaller extent.

He vanished as he had so many times before in front of the real Naomi. He went to the bank of the Euphrates, where their journey had started. Naomi had sacrificed her essence to bring her pawns back to life. In chess, when a pawn reaches the other side of the table, it can turn into anything. In this case, the Bureaucrat Queen of Heaven had given herself up for her pawns. What a complete waste!

Crowley howled his pain away. He went on with his life, amassing more power with the passing of time until he became a real threat to Michael himself. Somehow, he never mustered the energy to mount an attack on Heaven. What was more, after the first couple of decades, Michael himself opened a diplomatic channel with him. They would talk over the fate of the world, fighting side by side when a new catastrophe threatened to destroy everything.

And all that time, for all the years that passed, he virtually took Naomi's place, protecting the Winchesters. He was particularly protective of Mary although he never told her anything. He would sometimes catch her look at him with a strange expression. As if trying to figure out why he was helping them.

John Winchester died in his bed, at the age of 92. A few months later, Mary was on her deathbed. Crowley was circling the house like a dog who had been forbidden to enter the master's house. Late one night, Dean found him on a bench at the corner of their street.

"She wants to talk to you," he said without introduction.

Crowley followed him into the house without a word, as if he were expecting it. Dean left them alone. He sat in the chair by her bead, not knowing what to say. He was tingling with expectation. His fondest hope was that Mary's death would release Naomi's essence once again. In the deep pocket of his coat, he held a simple box enchanted to house her until he could find a proper body for her.

"I've been thinking about telling you for many years," Mary said, looking at him with such focus he shifted in his seat a little. "I've watched you grow so powerful. Looking for something to make you miss her less."

He startled a little at this. She was wrong. He didn't miss her. Which her? He wished he could deny it but knew that doing so would sound exactly like a confirmation.

"You kept the same body for decades. You kept protecting us. As if you're trying to hold on to her."

Mary smiled.

"She loved you, too. You know that right? This is the only reason I decided I can't die without telling you."

He heard her breath, shallow, her body failing her.

"You are so intelligent, so cunning. How you fooled yourself for so long I can't understand."

This definitely piqued his interest.

"What do you mean?" he asked the dying woman.

"You are aware of the vast power of angels. How could you believe that bringing back to life two humans would consume her?"

Crowley's jaw dropped, trying to process the news. Almost praying that she didn't die before finishing what she had to say.

"You knew her better than most. Maybe better than anyone. You looked for her in Heaven and Hell. You still offer a reward to get information about her. Think, Crowley! Where did you search least and why?"

His mind started working. He had looked for her. Looked for traces of her in the history of the world. Actually managed to get Michael talking about some of Naomi's early missions in ancient Egypt. He had talked to Gabriel about her. It had been easier to talk to Gabriel who had already witnessed their connection. Their last night of passion. In Rio.

He felt like smacking his head. That bastard sneaky low down trickster archangel had fooled him! Every time he went to Rio, something was happening in another part of the world or the underworld, distracting him. Even the time he went into Purgatory to look for her, he had been interrupted by news of a rebellion in his kingdom.

She saw the realization on his face, but spoke the words. Maybe after seeing him get things wrong for so long, she wanted to make sure he was arriving to the right conclusion.

"Where would an angel who loved a demon atone for her sins?"

"Purgatory," Crowley said between gritted teeth.

He had been an idiot. An utter complete blind idiot.

"Thank you," he said to the old woman.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked.

With a snap of his fingers, Crowley disappeared from the Winchesters' house and materialized in Gabriel's hotel.

"You bastard!" he said.

Gabriel shrugged, poured another scotch and offered it to Crowley.

"She asked me to," Gabriel said, as an explanation for hiding Naomi.

"Now I'm asking you to," Crowley said in a tone that did not admit retort.

Gabriel took him back to the gates of Purgatory.

"Don't try anything funny, like trying to seal the Gates. As you can see, I am rather annoyed at what you did."

He spoke calmly, knowing that he didn't have to prove his power to the Trickster. He was too smart not to know that Crowley's power had far surpassed Lucifer's.

As soon as he stepped into Purgatory, Crowley extended his senses to locate her. He had grown accustomed to his power. He might well have been blind the first time he had looked for her compared to what he could sense now.

He located her in a matter of hours. She was hunting down a Leviathan through a dark, humid jungle. The monster was running towards the tiny woman. She stepped to the side and slashed at him with her sword before being swiped up in a net she had obviously set up earlier.

He approached her slowly, unwilling to startle her and unbelieving that he found her.

"Hello," he said.

The passage of time was different here. She did not look any older than last he had seen her, almost half a century earlier. He looked just the same because he had taken excellent care of his meat suit. Mary had been right. He kept this particular body because it was the one she had touched.

And yet she didn't seem to recognize him.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the right. The monster's slobber was dripping from the net on the place where he had stayed.

"It's poisonous," she explained and let go of him. "Hello," she added with a half-smile.

"Hello," he repeated.

Her half-smile turned into a genuinely amused grin that seemed to light up the jungle. She looked at him intently, and reached her hand out to him. Crowley closed his eyes when she delicately cupped his cheek.

"I know you, don't I?"

He nodded, not quite able to speak yet. She came closer, and traced his features with trembling fingers.

"Don't feel offended. I don't even remember my own name. You came to take me out of here?"

He nodded again. He felt he was going to burst with hope.

"What was I to you?" she asked softly, tracing a tear that rolled out of his eye.

"Everything."

His voice sounded unsteady. Croaky. Unrecognizable to anyone who had ever met him. Except for her. The woman who didn't remember who she was pulled his head closer and brushed her lips against his. The sensation was perfect. He wanted to remain in that moment forever. With the last remnant of lucidity, Crowley picked her up in his arms and started running. The direction was not important. His will to get out was going to manifest the portal.

It did. The apparent reality of that place tore. He held her close and stepped out of Purgatory into the penthouse suite of Gabriel's hotel. The Archangel was there, and sealed it instantly, but Crowley didn't give a damn. All his attention was focused on the woman in his arms. He watched her memories return to her. He saw her features regain the inner light he had always seen in her. Her eyes sparkled again with the cold intelligence that was more dear to him than the sight of his throne in the netherworld.

"Crowley?" she whispered.

He waited for her reaction. Dreading it to be rejection, not quite hoping it was going to be acceptance.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. The sound of the door closing behind Gabriel coincided with the moment Naomi's lips touched his.