Return of the Sam 7/?

[emebalia]

Chapter 7

"Hello, Moose." Crowley said in that smug voice that sounded like mine but wasn't. I cringed inwardly and could only hope that Sam would come to my rescue. I'd been so stupid. Why hadn't I listened to him? Bringing a demon food and water, seriously, why had I done that?

Because you were curious, came his not helpful answer.


For a long moment there was silence at the other end of the line.
"Dammit, Luis." Sam finally muttered. Then he sighed. "What do you want, Crowley?"

I've to admit I was surprised that it had taken him only those two words to figure it out but what I could sense from my unwanted guest he wasn't.

"First of all I want you to go downstairs and have a look at my body, Sam." Crowley continued as if this was the most normal conversation he ever had. "Make sure he doesn't die, I want him back."

"Why did you take Luis then?" Sam asked and I made out a dangerous edge in his voice. The times I'd seen Sam pissed were rare, he was a friendly, overgrown puppy most of the time, but when he got angry, really angry … let's just say you won't like him when he's angry.

Crowley seemed to know that as well, I could feel a little spark of uneasiness. But when he spoke it didn't show in his tone.

"I just needed your little friend to get my body out of there but then you came around." He sighed dramatically. "I swear, you Winchesters have the worst timing I've ever seen. Now get down there and make sure I've a body to come back to or I may just keep what I have." With that he ended the call and threw the phone on the table. "Bullocks!"

He rubbed his face with one hand and slumped down in the chair.

What are you going to do now? I dared to ask when he didn't move for several minutes. Are you going to just sit here?

That seemed to get him going. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, and I was grateful for that, but I could almost feel the wheels turning in his head.

I cursed at myself, why couldn't I keep my damn mouth shut for once?

You're right, I don't have time to waste. He agreed and spared me a comment about my stupidity. This time.

The sparks I got from him now were disturbing, downright frightening if I was honest. He thought of fire and pain and brimstone.

I've to see what damage she's done while I was ... tied up with the Winchesters. That thought wasn't really meant for me but I caught it nevertheless. I got the feeling that he wasn't used to a passenger in his head which was kinda odd. Didn't this normally work like this?

I usually suppress the host completely, you would only get a few images here and there, Crowley answered my unspoken question.

Why am I still here? I asked, almost frightened by my own courage. This was a demon, the King of Hell to be exact, not the kind of person to mouth off to.

Don't worry about that. He commented on the last bit. Compared to the Winchesters you're tame.

I wasn't sure if that was an insult or a compliment. But I wondered if Sam and Dean really butted heads with demons.

Oh, they do. Angels, demons, they don't really care who they piss off. Dean more than Sam but don't get in Moose's way or you'll regret it.

He actually seemed to respect the brothers.

That's why I'm still alive.

Which made me wonder who'd crossed the Winchesters path and wasn't still alive.

That's a rather long list. With some celebrities on it. But I don't have time for this now.

Despite his announcement that he didn't have time to waste he didn't move for several minutes and just sat there, staring at the weird symbols on the wall in front of him. In this tiny tin can of a trailer they were right in our face but I'd no idea what they meant.

Protection. Came his answer once again. By now Featherhead is searching for us, that's for sure. The symbols keep him from finding us.

I wasn't sure if I would trust symbols to keep me save from an angel, not that I'd ever thought one would need to hide from an angel, but truth be told, I wanted to be found so I didn't comment on that.

However, Crowley believed that he was safe here, that much I could tell, and it made sense now that he was reluctant to leave his safe spot. On the other hand I could feel his restlessness, he wanted to go out.

I figured that while he'd been held prisoner he didn't have the chance to keep up with what was going on in the world. So it was only natural to want to know what he'd missed.

Abbadon. He provided. That's what's going on.

That name didn't mean anything to me.

She's a Knight of Hell and a real pain in the arse. Crowley sighed. And she wants to take over Hell.

Trouble in paradise? I couldn't help but ask. For a demon he didn't seem that frightening at all. Yes, he'd taken over my body and kidnapped me but he feared what the Winchester brothers would do to him if something happened to me so I didn't feel that threatened, all things considered.

Instead of an answer he opened his mind to mine. What I'd sensed before was nothing compared to the images flooding my mind now. And it still wasn't more than a trickle.

I smelled fire and burning flesh and for a second I thought it was mine. I was burning in Hell. I screamed.

He cut off the connection but I kept screaming. It was too much.

There's more where that's coming from. Crowley informed me in a neutral tone when I'd finally calmed down a bit. I got the message. He was in charge here, he was a demon and I should be grateful that he didn't just open the gates of Hell and break my mind.

You know, compared to the Winchesters you're a wuss. Crowley actually chuckled to that.

What, did you do the same to them? I still felt dizzy and my nerves were on fire so I noticed only with a delay that I'd mouthed off to him once again. He didn't seem to mind, though.

Oh, believe me. He sounded rather amused. They've both seen their fair share of Hell.

What do you mean? I had the feeling he was waiting for this question, like he was eager to spill my friend's darkest secrets. I admit I kinda felt bad for even asking, this was none of my business and if anybody should tell me than it was Sam and not this demon hijacking my body.

They didn't tell you? They've been to Hell. Both of them. He was in a chatty mood now. Dean even served in Hell, got off the rack and picked up the razor right away. Took Alastair thirty years to break him but they all break eventually. There was glee in his voice, he had fun, telling me this.

Thirty years? That couldn't be true. I didn't know how old Dean was exactly, mid-thirties was my best guess, but I kinda doubted that he went to Hell instead of kindergarten.

Time doesn't matter in Hell.

And Sam? I almost didn't dare to ask, I felt sick enough as it was.

Our little Sammy. Crowley made himself more comfortable in the chair. Sam is a very special case. Did you know that Lucifer was about to destroy the earth? Sam stopped him but he paid a price.

I wasn't sure what to make out of this. I could accept demons and angels but Lucifer? Like the devil himself? That was a little bit too much.

Okay, I'd said this before. I accept this and that but this? In Sam's world, as an opposite to the normal world I was used to, there seemed to be always a "but this?".

You've no idea. Now Crowley stood up. You really should read the books some day. They're online nowadays, very interesting lecture.

I didn't want to take advice from him, or believe a word he was saying, but I made a mental not to look for this ominous books.

Crowley had one last look around before the scenery changed once again. One second we were in his trailer the next we stood on a sidewalk in front of a large business building.

Where are we? I asked but this time he didn't answer. My mind was still on the whole Hell and Lucifer thing, if both brothers had experienced what I'd only seen a little glimpse of, in Dean's case for over thirty years, I wasn't sure if I believed that part, how could they be sane? How could they be functional?

Functional? Maybe. Sane? No. Crowley answered while he walked up to the front door. And now hush, this is important.

The receptionist asked if he'd an appointment.

"Do I need an appointment, darling?" Crowley asked. The man behind the counter opened his mouth, probably to tell him to leave because he obviously didn't have an appointment. But then he had a closer look and suddenly became really hectic.

"Sorry, sir." He cleared his throat. "I didn't recognize you in your new outfit. Suits you well, if I may say."

"You may not." Crowley brushed him off. "This is only a temporary inconvenience."

"Of course, sir." He looked like he was hoping for the floor to open, maybe sending him right back to Hell, anything just to get away from under the glare Crowley gave him.

Without a word Crowley turned and headed for the elevator.

"Stupid, low rank demons." He muttered under his breath but probably still loud enough for the other man to hear.

I had watched the exchange in silence but the way the other man had reacted to Crowley gave me a new perspective on him. He was respected. He was feared.

I am. Crowley answered smugly and pushed the top button in the elevator.

So far I'd only Sam's word and of course Crowley's for his status but it looked like they'd told the truth.

I rarely lie. The truth is way more fun most of the time. Crowley answered, watching the lights on the panel going up. I enjoy our little conversation, I really do, but this is something I don't want the Winchesters to know about. Night, Luis.

Before I could protest I fell into darkness.

Chapter 8
Masterpost