Chapter Fifty
Trinity
Valerius Estate: August 9, 2010
Crowley hated how keenly he missed Azrial's presence. She'd been avoiding him and Bobby for days, and now none of her grace lingered on either of them. It was driving him crazy and making his normally enduring temper shorter by the minute. He blamed his demonic nature for being so prone to forming a bloody addiction, but he wasn't so damn prideful that he couldn't admit that's what it was.
He was addicted to Azrial. Especially how her grace coated everything she considered hers. The fact he couldn't feel her grace on him rubbed not only his addiction wrong but also his pride. After all, if her power was fading from him and Bobby, that meant his power was no longer on her. That was something he couldn't stand to think about.
"If ya glower anymore, you're gonna set something on fire," Bobby said from across the room.
"May make me feel better," he said huffily. "Where is she?"
Bobby turned a page of the book he was reading with a frown. "Last I heard, Marcus went looking for her. Her absence from meals has been frustrating him."
"Always the head of house, isn't he?" Crowley asked drily.
"Probably ain't somethin' he can just turn off," Bobby said in agreement.
Crowley frowned, not bothering to respond as he continued staring out the library window. He reached out, trying to find her, but it was so damn muffled. The wards around the property made it difficult to get a read, and Azrial was making it worse by pushing down her power to stay out of sight.
"Why did I let you talk me into giving her space?" Crowley asked, ignoring the slight whine in his voice. He'd never admit to it anyway.
Bobby sighed, snapping the book shut. "Because if you didn't, she may have brained you with the nearest object."
"I would have survived," he muttered.
"You would have been unconscious," Bobby countered. "If she comes to dinner tonight, we'll talk to her after. Four days should have been enough to cool her temper."
"Or she'll castrate us both," Crowley mused.
Bobby looked a bit green from the suggestion. "I doubt she'd go that far."
"Well, you know what they say about a woman scorned." Crowley sighed, turning to look fully at the hunter. "Tell me you have a plan?"
Bobby shook his head, dropping his gaze. "I ain't much better at this than you," he said softly. "All we can do is explain why we did it."
"Wonderful. Well, hopefully you're right, and she has calmed down."
Line Break
Sam was ready to flee the dinner table less than five minutes in, and the only reason he didn't was Marcus's firm insistence that they would all sit and share a meal. The 'or else' went unsaid, and Sam didn't want to test the normally calm man. After all, he had to train with Marcus, and he was sure the Roman had some cruel tricks up his sleeve if he wanted to use them.
"So," Dean carefully began. "How was everyone's day?"
"Dull," Azrial drawled before sipping her wine. "Yours?"
Dean shot a glance at Marcus before responding, though Sam wasn't sure why. "Eh, Cas and I went for a walk through the vineyard after you and I talked."
"That's nice," Azrial said. "Must have been lovely."
Dean shot him a look, and Sam did his best to convey 'the hell should I do?' in a single look to his brother.
"I spent the day in the library," Sam offered when the silence became too much. "It seems you have a book for everything there."
"Perks of being long-lived," Azrial said. "At least it's good for something," she muttered into her glass.
Marcus shot her a warning look, and Sam was quickly getting the impression that things with the polycule had gone to shit recently. He really, really didn't want to get dragged into it. Then again, it would probably blow up over the table, thanks to his luck.
"Come on, Azrial, you've been in a mood for days." Gabriel teased, ignoring the dark look in his sister's eyes. "Just enjoy dinner, I know I will!"
"An excellent suggestion," Marcus said and glanced toward Cassiopeia. "Is dinner ready to be served?"
She glanced toward where a maid was standing toward the back of the room before answering. "Yes, it seems it is."
Further conversation was cut off as food came out of the kitchen and was placed on the table. Sam glanced at Bobby, worried about the man since Azrial was outright ignoring him despite the fact they were seated next to each other. Bobby caught him and raised an eyebrow in response. Sam shrugged, glancing down at his plate. Maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed? At least Bobby didn't seem overly bothered. Then again, the man was pretty good at hiding his feelings.
"What were you working on in the forge?" Marcus asked Azrial. "It looked quite complex."
Azrial hadn't put any food on her plate, instead choosing to top off her wine. "Nothing of any interest," she said. "Especially to everyone here."
"Really?" Marcus asked drily. "It looked like a weapon of some kind."
"Come on, sis," Gabriel goaded. "They'll find out eventually."
"Did I stutter?" she growled softly. "It's nothing of interest."
Gabriel huffed, turning back to the food. He clearly didn't want to continue a conversation with Azrial when she was so short-tempered. Sam didn't blame his lover in the slightest.
Crowley snorted and stabbed a piece of beef violently with his fork. "Nice to see the current situation hasn't eased your temper, angel."
Azrial's eyes flashed silver, and Sam looked at the roof, wishing to be anywhere else.
"You and me both," Gabriel whispered to him.
Rowena sipped her wine, glancing between Azrial and Crowley thoughtfully.
"I promise I didn't raise him to be so crass," Rowena said to Azrial. "I'm sure whatever he did to upset you is more than deserving of your mood."
"At least someone agrees," Azrial said. She raised her glass to Rowena in thanks before finishing her second glass and going to fill it again.
"Enough, Azrial," Marcus said firmly as he pulled the bottle away. "You have yet to eat, and wine is not a meal."
"Again, the balls on this man," Gabriel muttered before taking another bite off his plate.
"Platinum," Sam whispered in agreement. Honestly, was it too much to hope Azrial would just lose her temper and end the dinner?
"Fine," Azrial drawled. She didn't put much on her plate, but her obedience seemed to irritate Crowley.
"Surprise, surprise, the archangel can be trained," Crowley said mockingly.
Bobby actually facepalmed, summing up Sam's current feelings on this whole situation. Azrial frowned, and this time her eyes stayed silver as she glared at Crowley.
"Too bad demons can't be," she sweetly responded. "Then again, who would want to go through all that work for so little payoff."
Crowley growled at Azrial, and it looked like they were about to start throwing things. Marcus brought his fist down against the table, making both jump since they were so fixated on each other.
"Enough, both of you!" Marcus snapped. "I will not have you acting like childish fools at my dinner table."
"Oh, you mean the table you only still have because of me?" Azrial demanded, getting to her feet. "Forgive me for dirtying your dining hall."
"Why is this our lives?" Dean whined softly to Castiel before downing his own glass of wine.
"Because my sister would never settle for normal lovers," Castiel responded drily.
"Pot calling kettle," Rowena cut over them.
"Oh, will you all shut up?" Bobby asked. "We don't need gossip over this bullshit!"
Azrial laughed and threw up her hands. "Well, this bullshit wouldn't be happening if you and Crowley hadn't decided to force your way into the battle!"
Dean choked on his wine, making Castiel pound on his back before he set his glass down.
"You did what?" Dean demanded. "I thought you agreed it would be best to stay behind?"
"Things changed," Bobby said defensively.
"Bobby, what does she mean you and Crowley forced your way into the battle?" Sam demanded.
Bobby looked away, refusing to answer the question. Gabriel cleared his throat and glanced awkwardly between Crowley and Bobby.
"I think Crowley used him as a vessel," Gabriel said. "The same way Cassie and I are doing with you and your brother."
"And you didn't tell us?" Dean demanded. "What the hell, Bobby?"
"Well, he didn't even warn me," Azrial said. "How do you think I felt when Marcus helped them fucking attack me!"
"Oh, drop it," Crowley snapped. "You blocked us with barely any effort at all."
"That doesn't make it better!" Azrial screeched.
Marcus looked furious as the fighting around the table grew louder. Sam shot him a sympathetic look but didn't make a single attempt to break up any of them. Dean was ripping into Bobby, not that the man was trying to defend himself. Azrial and Crowley looked ready to start throwing things if they didn't calm down, and Castiel was doing all he could to calm down Dean. Sam glanced at Rowena, who'd continued eating while completely ignoring Crowley yelling beside her.
"Think we can escape?" Gabriel whispered.
"I'm almost positive Marcus would gut us if we tried." Sam pulled his plate away from Dean as his brother's fist hit the table. No reason to waste the food, at least.
"That's enough!" a female voice screamed over the chaos, causing the chandelier above them to shake ominously from its power.
Sam looked over at Cassiopeia, surprised at the way her honey eyes glowed. The flecks of silver in them were more prominent and gave them an ethereal glow. He'd only seen Rowena do something similar up until now, but Cassiopeia was clearly on the same level as the older witch power-wise. Everyone else seemed just as surprised, and Cassiopeia took a deep breath when Orion placed a gentle hand on her elbow.
"That's enough," she said firmly. She turned toward Azrial, pain shining in her eyes. "Mater, I have never known you to be so petty! How could you say something like that to Pater, knowing how grateful we all are for your help?" Cassiopeia demanded.
Azrial visibly deflated and shot Marcus a worried look. The man was stone-faced, though, giving no indication of how the slight had affected him.
"Crowley, for fucks sake, stop trying to goad an archangel!" Cassiopeia ordered. "She loves you, but one day you're going to get fucking hurt, and she'll never forgive herself."
The demon frowned but didn't argue with Cassiopeia's logic. The witch turned on Dean, her honey eyes burning with anger.
"As for you, Dean Winchester," she growled in annoyance. "That man you're yelling at is a father to you. This conversation should be had, but it has no place in this setting. You disrespect him by screeching like a brat without hearing his side of things."
Everyone was quiet at the dressing down, and Sam raised his glass slightly in thanks to Cassiopia. She noticed and inclined her head in acknowledgment but didn't comment.
"Well spoken," Marcus said softly. "Now, we will sit down and finish this meal. I will not have those who help maintain the house disrespected by doing otherwise."
Cassiopia fell into her chair, rubbing her temples. Azrial wordlessly followed, staring at her plate as if it held the world's secrets. Rowena yanked Crowley down in a show of strength, but he didn't do anything but curse softly at the manhandling. Dean sat down a moment later, not bothering to say anything to Bobby or Castiel. He looked ashamed, though, and Sam hoped Dean would be willing to talk about the subject calmly now.
Dinner was uncomfortably quiet after that. Azrial spent most of her time moving the food around her plate, not eating anything, but also not bothering with the wine. Crowley, on the other hand, had drank at least two more glasses, completely ignoring the food. Marcus looked like he wanted to say something but was clearly conflicted about doing so. Unlike Azrial, Crowley wasn't an official part of his family. Bobby was somewhere in between the two, eating barely anything but also downing another glass and a half of wine. He was rubbing his temples in a way that Sam knew indicated a growing migraine. Dean was picking uncomfortably at his plate but did his best to appear calm. Sam wasn't sure it was worth the effort, given the uncomfortable mood.
Orion was the first to rise and leave, stating he needed to deal with some preparations. Sam wasn't sure if the man was being honest or not, but Marcus let him leave without argument. The sound of feathers made Sam glance toward Azrial, who'd already vanished from her spot. Marcus sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment. He opened them after a few seconds and stood up.
"I am going to retire. I hope you all enjoy your evening."
Sam felt sorry for him, all things considered. He'd tried to mediate the polycule's issues to the best of his ability, and while the outcome was needed, the dinner itself had been a disaster. He mumbled his own goodnight, dragging Gabriel with him and shooting Rowena a pleading look to leave Crowley alone. The witch hummed and set her wine glass down.
"I think I'd like to walk through the vineyard," she said pointedly.
"Sounds relaxing," Sam said.
She linked her arms through his and Gabriel's, guiding them out of the room. At least they could flee the tension easily enough.
Line Break
Bobby walked through the private gardens of the estate, trying to clear his mind. He knew choosing to face Azrial and basically force her into a corner would have consequences. This level of backlash wasn't in his plans, though. The sound of running water made him pause, and he strained to pinpoint where it was coming from. The baths were underground in their own space, so it wasn't that. Maybe there was a fountain nearby, but he just hadn't seen it. He followed the sound, hoping for a distraction.
So, of course, by finding the water source, a large pool with its own waterfall, he also stumbled upon Azrial.
He stopped moving, wondering if she'd say anything. She was seated with her back to him and her feet dangling in the water if the soft sound of water splashing was anything to go by. Her hair was down, curtaining her face completely from view, so he couldn't tell if she noticed his approach. She remained silent, so he slowly walked toward the edge of the pool.
"Can I join ya?" he asked softly.
Azrial didn't look up, didn't even move really. He continued to wait for a response, but when one didn't come, he kicked off his boots and sat down next to her. The cool water on his feet was relaxing in the summer heat, and he could see why she'd seek this spot out. It was tranquil and quiet, as well as being private where the baths were shared by everyone living on the property.
They sat in silence for a long time, and he took the chance to observe her. He hadn't noticed at dinner, but it looked like she hadn't slept in the four days since he'd seen her. There were dark bags under her eyes, and she didn't have the soft half-smile he was used to seeing. Her fingers were soot-stained, and her hands looked drier than normal. That made sense, though, given that Gabriel and Marcus had asked about her work in the forge. Hell, he could even make out the faint scent of fire on her. It was something he'd learned to associate with Crowley, and to smell it on Azrial was a bit strange. It pushed out her own unique and normally very cooling scent.
"I was making Sam a weapon," Azrial said softly. "Gabriel knows since I used his feathers."
He raised an eyebrow at her, but she still didn't look up from the pool. Her feet were kicking softly underneath the water, creating tiny ripples on the surface.
"I'll be making one for Dean next," she continued. "Guess I'll need to use my own feathers along with Castiel's for that. I want it to be able to stand up to anything thrown at him, after all."
She was pushing energy into her voice, attempting to sound normal, but it made her voice crack. It sounded like she was ready to burst into tears at any moment, and he wasn't sure what to say.
"Azrial, we can—" he began to say.
Her feet kicked a little faster, and her voice rose in pitch. "I guess I'll have to make something for you and Crowley now. That stupid little demon knife is useless against an angel, and a normal angel blade isn't good enough for you two. Did I ever mention that I made Marcus a sword? It's still here. In his old office."
Bobby swallowed, wishing he could find something to say. She sounded frantic, and she was wringing her hands in her lap as she stared at the waterfall.
"You never mentioned that," he admitted.
"Oh. Yes. It was my gift to him when we married. A sword that was never meant to fail him, as if I were always by his side."
Oh. Oh.
Suddenly he realized this entire situation went a lot fucking deeper than just him and Crowley forcing their way into the battle.
"It didn't work, of course." Azrial exhaled sharply, swallowing back her emotions. "It failed him when he arguably needed it most."
"Is that what this is really about?" he asked. "You're worried history will repeat itself?"
She turned toward him, tears shining in her eyes. "Hasn't it always?" she demanded. "Look what happened in Japan!"
Bobby felt his heart drop, the realization that he couldn't argue her logic crushing him. After all, the same demon who'd taken his wife from him had tried to kill Azrial. On top of that, the same fucking demon had tortured her for Alastair. The entire experience had created a hellish form of deja vu.
"How many times has that happened in your life?" he finally asked.
"Enough," she hissed bitterly before looking away. "I became accustomed to watching the people I love die."
"Until it was finally too much, and you decided you were done."
"I was so tired," she choked out. "I just wanted to stop feeling. Falling was the only thing I could think of."
"What actually happened to Marcus?" Bobby asked.
He could see the tears trailing down her face but wasn't sure if she'd want physical comfort just yet. She was still angry at him, in theory, and getting chucked into the pool fully clothed for trying to hold her hand wasn't a pleasant thought.
"He was killed by men he trained. Men he considered friends." She sounded mechanical, detached. "Remember he said the last generation wouldn't heed our call? It's because they assassinated him under orders from officials in Rome. He killed most of them before…well, I slaughtered the rest."
Her voice dropped off, anger and shame dripping from her words. She was rubbing her hands vigorously, trying to get the soot off them.
Or maybe she still saw blood, like he did from time to time.
"You were with Death at the time, weren't you? That's what Marcus meant about ignoring your father."
"Yes. There was some nonsense happening in Egypt that needed attention. Had I been there, it wouldn't have happened. I would have flown him to safety."
Silence fell over them, and Bobby decided getting thrown into the pool was worth the risk of trying to offer her some comfort. He reached out, placing his hand over hers to stop her from rubbing them raw. He slowly pulled her hands apart, lacing his fingers through hers.
"You act like that man would have abandoned his home."
Bobby turned to see Crowley standing a few feet behind them with his arms crossed. He looked tense, and his eyes were pinched with worry.
"You're right," Azrial muttered without looking up. "He never would have. Maybe I always knew that, and that's what made it even more painful. That the one way I could lend my power, through a sword I personally forged, still wasn't enough to protect him."
"Then you understand why we can't stand back and let you go off alone," Bobby said softly.
"I don't want to understand!" She spun, practically falling against his chest. He was forced to steady himself on the edge to prevent them both from falling into the pool. "I don't want to be the last one left again, dammit! I'm so sick of being a damn survivor!"
She was crying openly, her fingers digging into his shirt. Her forehead fell against his chest, her sobs echoing in his ears.
"And yet you'd ask us to be the survivors?" Crowley demanded, stepping closer. "I'm not blind, angel. You've become more and more self-sacrificing over the years. You don't care if something costs your blood or life if it ultimately achieves your goals."
Azrial was shaking in his arms, and Bobby turned to Crowley. "Enough," he said firmly. "You've made your point."
"I damn well haven't," Crowley snapped. "This conversation needs to be had, Robert. We both agreed on that. I'm sick of trying to find a delicate way to approach the fact my damn mate has no issue throwing her bloody life away trying to kill a tantrum-throwing brat!"
Azrial stiffened in his arms, though tiny tremors were still shooting through her body. She took a shallow, gasping breath and dug her nails into his shirt. She turned her head slightly, though her hair was completely curtaining her face now.
"What did you call me?" Azrial asked, her voice surprisingly steady considering her high emotions.
Crowley pursed his lips, clearly caught out by his accidental admission. Bobby raised an eyebrow, waiting to see how the demon would respond.
"It doesn't matter," Crowley said flatly. "The issue here is that you keep trying to throw your life away."
Azrial shakily got to her feet, and Bobby allowed her to use his shoulders to steady herself. She still hadn't looked at Crowley, and he felt her hands shaking.
"Repeat what you called me," she softly ordered.
Crowley grunted, turning his head away from them. "Stop trying to change the subject, Azrial."
Azrial vanished in a flutter of wings, but Bobby didn't even have the chance to get up before she appeared behind Crowley. Her sudden appearance startled the demon, and Azrial grabbed the collar of his shirt before vanishing again. He barely blinked before Azrial appeared near him again, standing at the edge of the pool, her hand the only thing that kept Crowley from falling in.
"What did you say?" Azrial demand.
"Don't you fucking dare drop me," Crowley hissed, wrapping his hand around Azrial's wrist.
"Tell me what you said," Azrial said again. "Stop playing with my damn emotions!"
Bobby saw a flash of pain across Crowley's face and wondered if he should intervene. Azrial still looked close to tears and was clearly trying to get a handle on herself. He slowly stood up but didn't approach the two just yet.
"What would it change?" Crowley finally asked. "The point still stands that you've been suicidal lately."
"Sometimes I wonder why I love you," Azrial whispered brokenly. She yanked Crowley forward, and he stumbled away from the pool.
Bobby shot the demon a worried look as Azrial wrapped her arms around herself. The ground at her feet was slowly starting to freeze, creating a circle of ice at her feet.
"I called you my mate," Crowley snapped angrily. "Is that what you wanted to hear, angel?"
She spun around, causing the ice to shoot toward Crowley on the ground. "You bitch and whine that I'm suicidal, but what about you?"
"What are you on about?" Crowley asked.
"You thought I'd never know about your little stunt with my grace and blade?" she demanded. "What I want, Crowley, is for you to admit that we are both reckless when it comes to each other!"
Silence echoed around them, and Bobby shut his eyes for a moment. He didn't want her to have a point, but she did. He opened his eyes and glanced between the two.
"She's right," Bobby said. "I wouldn't have acted the way I did in Japan if I hadn't…" He trailed off, unsure how to voice his thoughts.
Crowley ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath. He finally looked at Azrial, his red eyes glowing softly.
"What do you want from me, Azrial?" Crowley tiredly asked. "You know I'm not an emotional creature, and there is a risk to you if anyone ever finds out how much you do mean to me."
"I don't want to be held to a standard that you won't hold yourself or Bobby to," Azrial begged. "Don't ask me to be logical when just the thought of you dying breaks my heart."
"We just want you to stop being needlessly reckless," Bobby said softly. "Can you promise us that at least?"
Azrial glanced toward him, rolling her lower lip between her teeth. The ice had at least stopped expanding, and hopefully, it hadn't done any damage to the neatly masoned ground.
"Only if you promise the same," she said softly. "I won't lie and say I won't protect you even if it causes me injury, and I'd hope you would pay me the same respect."
"I can do that," Bobby said after a moment. "Crowley?"
The demon looked conflicted, not that Bobby blamed him. The fact was, all three of them were prideful as hell at times. They would do stupid shit for the people they loved, even though Crowley would never admit such a thing, but they didn't want anyone doing the same for them. Azrial's ultimatum, while reasonable, still didn't feel great. While Bobby was willing to admit that he wasn't sure if Crowley would.
Crowley sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You won't drop this, will you?"
"Not this time," she said. "Not when you gave me a reason to fight and live again after all these years."
Crowley chuckled, though it sounded hollow. "I really should have guessed you'd be this stubborn," he admitted. "Fine, angel, but this time, I want something from you as well."
Azrial tilted her head at Crowley's soft ultimatum. Bobby wasn't sure where this was going, but at least they were making progress. That's all he could hope for.
"What would you want that I haven't already given you?" Azrial asked, a touch of amusement in her ragged voice.
"If you insist on us being more open about what you mean to me, then you will allow me to take some precautions for all our sakes."
Azrial's eyebrows scrunched together. "What precautions?"
"Well, that's just it, mate," Crowley growled the word, and Bobby would have to be blind to miss the shiver that seemed to shoot straight through Azrial. "The best precautions are those you don't know about."
Bobby was about to object but realized he understood where Crowley was coming from. If he or Azrial knew what Crowley was doing to protect them, there was almost no point. The information could be ripped from him by any demon or angel. Even if Azrial didn't have to worry about mental interlopers, the risk of discovery would still exist.
"And you'll own up to what we are?" Azrial asked after a moment. "That none of us are ready to see the other die, that we're in this together?"
Crowley nodded slowly. "Yes, angel. You know I'm good for my word."
She stared at him for several more seconds before slowly nodding. "Okay."
"I need your word, Azrial," Crowley said. "Not just your agreement. If you want this to work in a way where we all stay alive, we need to be on the same page."
Azrial blinked slowly, and black shadow claws formed on her right hand. She dug the claws into her palm, causing blood and grace to seep through her fingers. Crowley looked startled and took a step forward.
"I didn't mean—"
Azrial held out her hand to Crowley, watching him expectantly. Bobby wasn't sure what was going on, but the fact that Crowley looked out of his depth made it clear this wasn't what he expected to happen.
"Your brothers will see it," Crowley said haltingly. "This isn't like the contract you currently have. If Michael or Lucifer even catch a whiff of this—"
"Fuck them," Azrial said strongly. "They haven't been my family for a long time. I'm not about to start caring about their opinions now."
"What about Gabriel?" Crowley argued. "Or Castiel? Bloody hell, what about your flock, angel?"
Bobby glanced between them. "Alright, the ignorant human needs an explanation."
Crowley shot him a worried look. "It's almost like a demon contract, but not as one-sided. Old binding magic that I'm surprised Azrial even knows, given how often magic blows up in her face."
Azrial's lips twitched up in a mirthless smile. "Will you deny me, my king?"
Crowley was staring at Azrial's hand with barely concealed desire. It was clear he wanted whatever she was offering, but in his bid to protect her he was hesitating.
"And anyone can do it?" Bobby asked curiously.
"Yes, but whatever you vow is permanent, and you'll always be connected to the person you do it with," Crowley said. "How did you come across it, Azrial? This was outlandish even when I was alive."
Her grin was a touch predatory, even as she flexed her offered palm at Crowley. "Did you ever wonder why certain people on the vineyard look familiar?" she goaded. "Cassius' bloodline took this oath shortly after Marcus' death. A bond of fealty and comradery to endure until their descendants' last breath."
Crowley barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "And where, pray tell, did they learn such a thing?"
"I was hardly the only divine being to pass through," Azrial said. "That's not my story to tell, though. Suffice to say, Marcia taught it to me in case I ever needed such a thing."
"What's needed?" Bobby asked when Crowley still didn't take Azrial's hand.
"Blood, intent, and a vow of your choice." Azrial shrugged. "And a willingness from both parties. This isn't something that can be forced, and the more willing…well, the more visible to those who can see such things."
Crowley truly seemed unsure if he should accept, but Bobby knew in his bones that the bastard wanted to. He knew it like he knew the sky was blue, Rufus's favorite drink was Jack, and that Castiel would always be at Dean's side.
It made his next highly impulsive decision much easier.
He leaned down, grabbed his boot knife out of his discarded shoes, and cut the skin at the heel of his palm. He tossed the knife next to his boots and held his hand out between Azrial and Crowley.
"Well, then, I guess I can do it too?"
Crowley looked like someone told him they stopped producing high-end whiskey, but Azrial had a serene smile. Like she'd somehow known it would come down to this.
"Cheater," he softly teased Azrial. "You can sense my emotions, can't you?"
"Of course I can. Especially things like love."
And that's what it was, at the end of the day. Love. He loved them both in a way he'd never really expected to love anyone again. It was a large part of the reason he couldn't see them both go off to battle without him.
"Fuck," Crowley exhaled. "How am I meant to say no to this?"
"You aren't," Azrial said gently. "Not when you've been restraining yourself since the moment I cut my palm."
Crowley growled under his breath, and a moment later, reddish black shadows curled around his hand, and he dug them into both his palms. With a speed Bobby wasn't quite ready for, Crowley yanked him and Azrial closer.
"If the three of us are doing this, we may as well do it right," Crowley said. "Robert, show me your other hand."
Bobby offered his uncut hand, and Crowley made an expert slice with his claws on it. He glanced over to see Azrial had done the same, offering her bleeding left hand to him with a smile. Bobby took it gingerly, feeling her claws graze the back of his right hand. Crowley closed the circle by taking both their hands with a deep breath.
"I hate you two," Crowley muttered, his voice thick with emotion.
"And I love you too, my king," Azrial said. "And you, my hunter."
He squeezed both their hands, his heart pounding against his ribs. "In a way, I hate that I love you both so damn much. I never wanted to open myself up like that again."
A comfortable silence fell over them, and Bobby took a deep breath. There was something in the air, like nature was holding its breath waiting for what would happen next.
"Your vows can be silent or spoken," Azrial said softly. "In any language. All that truly matters is your intent."
"You can still back out," Crowley said, even as his hand tightened slightly. "Just because Azrial's insane doesn't mean you have to be."
"Yeah, well…it's no secret the three of us should be in a padded room," Bobby said.
Azrial laughed, her face lightening for the first time in days. "Are you ready?" she asked them both.
Crowley nodded, and Bobby gave a half smile.
"Ready as I can be, princess."
"Then I'll start," she said softly. "I vow…"
Line Break
Crowley woke with a soft groan, already regretting the last few celebratory glasses of wine he'd had with Azrial and Bobby. At least it seemed they'd ended up in Azrial's massive bed. His head was swimming, but thankfully, the room was dark. He opened his eyes to a mess of raven hair and a pale neck. Azrial was tucked tightly against his chest, her arms wrapped around Bobby's shoulders. The man had somehow slid down the bed and seemed to be using Azrial's breasts as a pillow.
Lucky bastard.
He snorted at the thought, noticing Azrial's legs were also tangled around Bobby. Maybe the hunter didn't have a choice in where he ended up after all. He reached out his right hand, long healed to nothing but a thin scar, to brush the bottom of Azrial's hair out of Bobby's face. A gentle knock at the door made Crowley groan, but he slowly untangled himself from the mess of limbs. Azrial gave an annoyed whine, shifting her body so she'd trapped Bobby against her chest with a content sigh. Crowley wished him all the luck getting out of her grip later. He quickly glanced down, grateful he was mostly clothed, if very disheveled. Pants, socks, and a half-open dress shirt were better than answering the door naked. He crossed the room in a few strides and opened the door. The light from the hallway bathed the dark room in a warm glow, and Crowley winced at the abrupt change.
"Ah, so you fell prey to wine as well?" came the warm, highly amused question.
Crowley blinked a few times to adjust to the light and raised an eyebrow at Marcus's knowing look.
"Why does it sound like you know what happened?" Crowley asked suspiciously.
"Oh, the whole house knows," Marcus informed him. "Your mother practically fell over in shock when she felt the magic from you three."
Crowley cursed low in his throat but stepped aside to wave Marcus in. "I'm not having this conversation in a bloody hallway."
Marcus shook his head. "Not tonight, my friend."
The genuine kindness in the man's voice halted Crowley's next urging. "Friend?"
"Are we not?" Marcus asked. "We have talked in depth about both our experiences, we have sought each other's company on multiple occasions, you have helped me and my family…" Marcus's eyes shot toward the bed, an unending warmth in his honey eyes. "Enjoy this night. I will make sure no one disturbs the three of you until morning."
He turned to walk down the hallway, and Crowley felt the need to at least return some of the man's openness.
"She still loves you," he said. "Always will, I think. I said to Dean back in the States I'd be stupid to fight that battle, and I still stand by that."
Marcus paused, glancing back with an appreciative smile. "And she will have my heart until the world falls in on itself. One day, perhaps, we can explore what that means, but this night is for the three of you. Just as my wedding night was for her and I. Rest well, King of Hell."
Crowley stood at the door far longer than he probably should have. What got him moving was a sleepy, slightly annoyed voice calling him back to bed. He was too drunk to think over everything the Roman had said. When sober minds prevailed, he'd try and figure out a response. For now, he would go back to his newly bonded mates.