Chapter Thirteen
Deathly Reminiscing
TW/CW: Panic attacks, mentions of torture, bad (borderline abusive) family relationships
Iceland: Evening - June 17, 2010
Bobby sat across the fire from Azrial, the fire highlighting the tension in her face. Crowley was pacing like a caged lion, his face pinched in a perpetual frown.
"You need to get back soon."
Crowley stopped at Azrial's soft voice, glancing toward her.
"You need me here."
"I do," she admitted tiredly. "But they need you, too. Maybe even more so."
"I don't-!" Crowley snarled, but Azrial shot to her feet.
"Don't say you don't care!" she yelled, her voice cracking."You do. We both fucking know it, Crowley."
A heavy silence fell between them, and Bobby realized if he didn't step in, they may start fighting.
"You're both right." Azrial and Crowley glanced at him, not saying a word. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Crowley, they need you back home. We don't need a repeat of the Fae incident but with a damn witch this time."
Crowley growled but finally sat down in front of the fire with a sharp nod, and Bobby turned toward Azrial.
"Azrial, you shouldn't have called him out like that. He may care, he may not, but we both know what you mean to him. Don't go throwing it in his face."
She flinched, turning toward Crowley. There was a loaded look exchanged between the two before Azrial sat down, dropping her face into her hands. She took several shaky breaths before looking back at Crowley.
"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I shouldn't have called you out. Especially in front of Bobby."
Crowley shut his eyes, and Bobby watched the tension in his jaw ease. "It's not like Robert is just anyone, angel."
The tension left the clearing with the demon's soft words, and Bobby sighed in relief. "I think, for Crowley's sanity, he should stay at least till morning. He can take us back to civilization before heading home."
"Are we taking orders from you now, pet?"
Bobby bit his tongue at the suggestive tone, meeting the demon's thoughtful gaze.
"Ya know what? Ya, you are, your highness."
Crowley raised an eyebrow, and Azrial let out a gasping breath that made Bobby snap his eyes toward her. She was laughing, but her whole body was shaking like a leaf. Crowley moved quickly toward the angel, placing his hands on her shoulders.
"Breathe," the demon ordered. "You need to breathe, Azrial."
A spark of panic entered Azrial's eyes, and she took several shuddering breaths. It didn't help, and she seemed to quickly fall into hyperventilating. Bobby moved before he fully considered what to do, gently placing a hand over her nose and mouth.
"Azrial, focus," he whispered. "You don't need to breathe, remember?" Her eyes widened, and after a few sharp inhales against his hand, her breathing started to settle. Her shaking hand came to rest over his, and he removed his hand from her face. She didn't let go, her tired eyes staring up at him with a swarm of emotions.
"Thank you," she rasped out. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing," he huffed. "We're all entitled to a freak out now and again."
"Especially considering why you are," Crowley said.
Bobby froze, realizing that this must be related to what happened in the cave.
"You don't have to-" he started, but was met by two mild glares.
"Shut up and sit down, Robert. You're in this mess now, whether you like it or not."
Azrial sighed at Crowley's gruff statement, but still hummed in agreement. "I wouldn't have been so dour about it, but Crowley's right."
"Oh so now you're teaming up on me?" he huffed. Azrial's lips twitched, and Crowley let out an amused snort at his sarcasm.
"You had it coming, hunter," she said. "Sit, we owe you an explanation."
Azrial's words had Crowley sitting down and Bobby followed the demon's lead. The fire crackled, filling the silence for several long minutes before Azrial let out a shaky sigh.
"Shortly after I regained my grace, I made a rather stupid mistake that got me captured by one of Hell's top demons."
The words became a physical weight in his chest, and Bobby cursed the fact he'd been right. He'd guessed, purely based on her reaction to Death, that Azrial had been tortured. He hadn't wanted to be right though and having it confirmed left him feeling sick.
"I...ended up under a particularly sadistic demon's blade," she robotically continued. "During that time, I had to lie about who I was. About what I was. I could break out, but at what cost? They would have known…" Azrial trailed off, and Crowley quietly picked up the narrative.
"They would have figured out she was an archangel, and then everything would have been for nothing."
"I never cared about that," Azrial whispered. "They would have found out I was working with you."
Crowley stilled, and Bobby watched the surprise on his face melt into quiet anger.
"That's why you stayed?"
"Yes. I made you a promise, and I wasn't going to break it."
Crowley looked murderous, but Bobby quickly picked up on the fact it wasn't directed at Azrial.
"What does this have to do with Cassiel?" he gently asked. Azrial looked away, her face pinched with shame.
"I needed a believable identity," she said. "Castiel was right, the weakest I could pass as is a Seraph. Cassiel was one of the few angels I knew for certain had passed, though I never knew how."
"So you pretended to be your sister to protect Crowley and your plan?"
"Yeah, basically."
Bobby watched her eyes fall and wished he could find something to say. She looked ashamed, and Crowley looking pissed didn't help much. It seemed to make Azrial sink in further on herself.
"How," he cleared his throat. "How did ya get out?"
A broken smile met his question, and Azrial shot a glance at Crowley. "A very loyal hellhound and his owner."
Bobby looked at Crowley, but the demon wouldn't meet his gaze. Was this what had made them so damn close? He'd thought their relationship was relatively shallow in the beginning. When Azrial had died, that had proven completely untrue, but he'd still thought it wasn't anything more than affection and understanding. This information shattered that idea.
"Do you mind if I ask…" Bobby trailed off, and Azrial lifted her head with a knowing look. "Who it was?" she finished.
He nodded, and she sighed. "The one who captured me was Alistair. He orchestrated a lot of what I went through, why wouldn't he? I was an angel at the mercy of Hell, it was basically his Christmas!" her voice cracked, and she shut her eyes for a moment. He watched her take a steadying breath, before opening her eyes again. "There were other demons though, that he used in my torture. In a fucked up way, I hate them more than I ever hated Alistair. Still didn't stop me from knocking back a drink when Sam killed the fucker."
Bobby felt his jaw tighten, and he turned toward Crowley. "He got his claws in you too, I'm guessing?"
Crowley looked surprised at the question, but the demon tilted his head. "Yes, but only until Lilith took me on. He was the one who broke me though. Most souls before the early 1900s that became demons are Alistair's handy work."
Bobby dug his nails into his palm, taking a steadying breath. Getting pissed off wouldn't do any good, but damnit he wanted to gut that asshole like a pig. Show the bastard a taste of his own medicine for what he'd done to the people he cared about.
The thought brought him up short, and he looked at the two supernatural beings who seemed lost in their own thoughts. He cared about them, more than he'd ever wanted to, and it was terrifying.
"You should get some sleep."
Bobby blinked, realizing Azrial had spoken. "Same to you," he said.
"I think...I'll pass tonight."
He wanted to argue but wasn't sure it would do any good. He glanced at Crowley, who shook his head slightly. Yeah, it seemed best not to argue.
"Alright, I'll get the tent set up."
"I can help," Azrial offered and Bobby shook his head.
"Just rest," he said firmly. "You need it after today.
They all did, Bobby thought tiredly as he began to set up for the night.
Line Break
Bobby's House: Afternoon - June 18
Crowley arrived near Bobby's desk with a sigh. He hadn't wanted to leave Bobby or Azrial, but he wasn't a fool. He'd spent too much time away, and time wasn't something they had a lot of. It took him a moment to realize it was quiet, beyond the soft crinkle of pages turning.
"Well, well, you finally decided to show your face?"
Crowley bit back the curse at the waspish female voice and turned toward Rowena with a frown. "I was needed elsewhere, not that it's any of your concern, witch."
He moved toward the kitchen but stopped when Rowena softly laughed. "Something funny?" he ground out, not bothering to look at her.
"Very," she said. He could hear the smirk in her voice and resisted the urge to snap his fingers and break her neck. "I hadn't believed what Samuel said, but it's true. You are a warlock."
Damn moose, Crowley silently cursed. "And?" he asked, finally turning around. Her eyes bore into him, and her lips pulled into a predatory smile.
"It just explains a few things."
"Are you always this vague?" he huffed. "I don't have time for this."
"You never did have time for me, did you, Fergus?"
Crowley stared at Rowena, doing his damn best to hide his shock. How in the name of everything that was unholy, did she figure that out?!
"You have me confused with someone else," he said flatly. Rowena clucked her tongue, standing up slowly and walking toward him.
"No, I don't. It hasn't been so long that I can't recognize my own flesh and blood. Though," she eyed him critically. "Flesh is no longer a factor."
"You're delusional," he huffed.
"Am I?" she asked thoughtfully. "Then this hex bag won't do any damage to you."
Crowley's eyes widened as the hex bag was tossed at him with precision. Instinctually he set the blasted thing on fire, knowing if it connected nothing good would happen. The pouch burst into flames and fell harmlessly between them. Rowena looked triumphant, and Crowley pursed his lips.
"This proves nothing," he spat.
"Your murderous rage gives you away, Fergus. Though I can't understand it. You made your own bed, I had nothing to do with it."
That was the last straw. After all the crap he'd dealt with the past few days, he needed an outlet, and Rowena had just volunteered.
"You vapid bitch, you tried to sell me for three pigs!"
"Oh, let it go, Fergus. Times were rough."
"I could juggle," he huffed. "I was worth five pigs, at least!"
"You were also an ungrateful whelp," she flatly intoned.
"Fuck you," he spat. "You abandoned me as soon as you were able. Anything I achieved in life was my own doing."
"Oh, and how much you achieved," she snorted and waved a hand dismissively. "Sold your soul, and for what? Knowing you, it was nothing worthwhile."
"I'm going to burn you to a crisp," he snarled and took a threatening step forward.
"Ah, ah, ah," she said, wagging a mocking finger. "I wouldn't do that, Fergus."
"Why the bloody hell shouldn't I?"
"Because we have an audience," she said with a triumphant grin.
Crowley spun around, staring at a shocked pair of Winchesters and their pet angel.
"Uh," Dean awkwardly coughed. "Are we...interrupting something?"
"Oh, nothing dear," Rowena said. "Just a mother-son reunion."
"...What?" Sam numbly asked.
Crowley cursed his lot in life. He should have just stayed with Azrial and Bobby.
The next update is Saturday, December 25, 2021