Unexpected Destinies Chapter 169
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 3,215
Summary: Dean, Castiel and the others meet with Crowley to learn what he has discovered.
PRESENT
"Explain to me again how on Earth you thought it was a good idea to trust Crowley of all people?" Sam demanded as soon as the waitress left after having served them the large shared platter that they'd ordered.
Dean rolled his eyes as he reached for a deep fried mozzarella stick and dunked it into the marinara sauce. "For the last time, Sam, we're not trusting him, just working with him."
"And the difference is what exactly?"
"The difference is treating Crowley as we did before versus how you treated Ruby."
"Look, I hate to get in the middle of this particular argument, I really do," Gwen stated, cutting off any reply that Sam might have made. "But can I ask what that means exactly?"
"It means that we use him but give him as little information in return as possible," Castiel explained. "Crowley does not yet know that Michael and Raphael are on our side or about our alliance with the Vatican or any other details like that."
"Yeah, he wouldn't know about Cas' promotion to archangel from us either if he hadn't been able to see it for himself," Dean added.
"Speaking of which, congratulations Cas," Sam said, clapping the angel on the back. "What's it like to be an archangel?"
"It was strange at first, but I have grown accustomed to it," Castiel replied.
"Wait, you didn't know?" Dean inquired with a frown.
"No, we only learned of it when Samuel got the first of the Supernatural books that he'd been missing," Gwen explained.
Dean's let his head thunk onto the table top at that. "He got more of the books?" he demanded, smiling despite himself when he felt his husband's fingers coming up to massage the back of his neck, accompanied by a slight Grace probe to check whether he'd injured himself pulling his latest stunt.
Man but he loved the silly, sappy angel.
"Obsessed really is a good way of describing Samuel's behavior now that I think about it rationally," Bobby stated. "But, yes, he got three more of the books. Sam and I, though, had already heard of Castiel's promotion from Becky before that."
The mere thought of what those books might contain made Dean groan and want to sink into the floor in embarrassment. He was in no way proud of his behavior back then and kinda wished that he could take it all back now. If he'd known then that it would all be written down for posterity and available for anyone to read who was stupid enough to fork over the necessary cash to buy one of Chuck's monstrosities, he'd have never allowed himself to become so pathetic.
The fingers on the back of his neck tightened well beyond the usual massage strength and Dean winced slightly, knowing what was coming as his husband leaned over to hiss into his ear.
"You were not, nor have you ever been pathetic, Dean Winchester," Castiel declared fiercely, though low enough that the others wouldn't be able to overhear it. "You were dealing with something no human should have to deal with and then, on top of all the pain and suffering that you had already experienced, you discovered that you'd been betrayed by the one person who you trusted and loved above all others. If that doesn't give you the right to be miserable then nothing does."
Dean huffed. "And here I thought that you were upset with me for acting the way that I did."
"I admit that you didn't handle those emotions in the way that I would have liked you to, but I don't think that you were in a position at the time to do so in any other way."
"And you think I am now?"
"No, I know you are now."
"Yeah, I guess I am," Dean admitted after a moment's pause. "Thanks to you."
"I merely gave you the help that you needed to be able to achieve that yourself."
"You know, you're gonna have to learn that sometimes you just need to take that kind of compliment and say thank you."
"You first."
Dean snorted and then laughed. Him and Castiel really were a matched set, but he was more than okay with that. Really. "Have a mozzarella stick," he said in lieu of anything else, nudging the large platter a little closer to his husband.
"Aw, now isn't this just too precious for words?"
The instant the voice registered, Dean jerked his head back from where he and Castiel had been speaking. Apparently they'd slowly drifted closer to each other as they were talking until their foreheads were all but touching. A quick glance at the others proved that they'd noticed as well and the slight discomfort on Sam and Bobby's faces made him want to smirk but he forced it from his face as he turned to look at the newest arrival.
"Crowley," Dean acknowledged coldly.
"Now, now, cupcake, there's no need to be rude," Crowley replied, sneering down at the boot as if checking it for dirt before reluctantly seating himself beside Gwen. "You're the one who told me to meet you here, not the other way around."
"Yeah, yeah, now what did you want to talk about?"
"You really have no idea how to woo a connection diplomatically now do you, cupcake?"
Dean growled, baring his teeth at Crowley, but he reluctantly calmed when Castiel placed a hand on his arm.
"You do have something to tell us, don't you, Crowley?" Castiel asked, voice quiet but firm.
"Of course I do. Like I'd risk a meeting you two if I didn't," Crowley responded, glancing about. "Did it have to be somewhere so public?"
"Well we could have invited you to where we were staying but you wouldn't have liked that very much," Sam sneered. "Not that I'd have minded but I got overruled."
"Ah yes, you went back to the pit bull, cupcake, how lovely," Crowley sneered. "Are you sure he's safe? From what I heard, once an angelic vessel, always an angelic vessel."
"How about you let us worry about that, Crowley?" Dean retorted, though he couldn't help but be slightly amused that Sam was currently the one being compared to an unthinking guard dog.
That had always been him in the past and Dean couldn't help but like and feel proud of the one-eighty in that regard. It was something of a first for him, to think of his reasoning abilities and strategic skills with pride. The hand that came to rest on the small of his back showed that some of his thoughts and feelings had spilled out over the bond to his husband and sent the equivalent of a smile at Castiel in return in place of an actual one given their present company. His bond mate's gesture wasn't lost on Crowley though as he caught how the demon's eyes tracked the movement from across the table. Though it annoyed him a little, it also brought to his attention the way Crowley hadn't even considered scooting in next to him and that made him smile. Whether it was because the demon didn't want to get that close to him or Castiel he didn't particularly care, just the fact that Crowley felt the need to distance himself as much as possible from either of them was more than enough for him.
"It's my neck on the line here too, princess," Crowley replied, smirking as he met Dean's eyes. "I see you're still managing to hold onto twinkle toe's attentions. Makes a demon wonder exactly how you do it, or just how good a lay you really are."
"Crowley!" Castiel snarled warningly.
"Whoa, Cas, don't!" Dean sent silently over their bond. "He's doing it on purpose to try and anger you, probably to make you spill the beans on something he wants to know. Don't let him play you."
"Easy, easy now, Castiel," Crowley soothed condescendingly before pulling out his flask and taking a sip. "Like I said before, I'm not trying to poach your pet, just wondering what it is about him that can keep your attention for so long. There's got to be something."
"Nothing you would understand."
Crowley laughed at that and Dean couldn't help but recall what it was that the demon had said the last time. About how with something as powerful as his husband, he couldn't be anything other than a pet or temporary plaything. Apparently even being a pet had some kind of time limit on it and he shuddered to think of what that meant in Hell. Even there he'd heard the odd comment about how long he'd captured and held Alastair's attentions, which made him wonder what it was about him that had snared his old master's interest. The reason for the first thirty years was more than obvious now, but those last ten not so much. At least some of it would have been triumph and the feeling of victory that Alastair would have experienced every time the demon watched him carve up another soul or do whatever his master had demanded. But after that? What had it been then?
Before Dean would have written it off as something stupid or not even have considered it worth his attention and efforts at uncovering the true meaning. Now, however, he couldn't help but wonder at it all. Did it have anything to do with his soul and how different and unique everyone seemed to say that it was? That particular thought was a lot more difficult for him to acknowledge but he'd had enough experience while with Michael now to know what the average soul looked like while in a human meatsuit and compared to what Michael saw when looking at him even he couldn't deny that there was a clear and marked difference.
The question was what did that mean?
The easiest solution that Dean could come up with was that he'd had the misfortune (or fortune as he'd seen what happened to souls that got passed around in the Pitt) of maintaining Alastair's personal interest because he was so different from everyone else. If there was one thing his old master had loved it was to be seen as different from all of the others, the common, pathetic and unimaginative amateurs as Alastair had often called them sneeringly. So to have a soul as unique as his own as a pet must have given the demon a kick whenever Alastair had looked upon him. It made him wonder if his old master would have grown tired of him once he'd fully demonized or if he'd still have been unique enough to maintain Alastair's interest even then.
It wasn't something Dean was particularly interested in thinking much about. But either way, if Crowley looked at things even remotely in the same way as Alastair had, then he could more than understand why the demon just didn't get Castiel's interest in him given how long they'd already been together. Love was an almost totally alien concept to those in Hell other than that it made a great way to torture newly arrived souls. Besides, he didn't particularly care for Crowley thinking too closely on his relationship with his husband. Reluctant ally or not, the guy was still a demon and one who'd turn against them just as soon as Lucifer was out of the picture.
"As if you didn't check him out yourself," Gwen snorted.
"What?" Dean squawked.
"He totally checked you out before stepping up to the table."
Absently Dean felt Castiel stiffen beside him even as his husband's hand on his back shifted across so that his bond mate could grasp his hip. Most of his attention, though, was focused on the demon sitting across from him who sipped his drink calmly.
"What can I say, I'm not blind, cupcake," Crowley shrugged minutely. "Besides, all crossroads demons learn to appreciate human beauty. Deals are much easier to make when wearing a handsome or gorgeous body."
Now that he thought about it, Dean had to agree that he'd never seen an unattractive crossroads demon. All of the ones that he'd dealt with had been quite beautiful actually. Well, except for Crowley, but then as the head of the crossroads demons he probably wouldn't have to worry about that too much. Though it could also be that Crowley just wasn't his type as it wasn't that the demon was unattractive either. Or it might just be that he saw it that way because he knew Crowley, which pretty much spoiled any appreciation he might ever have had for the meatsuit the demon was wearing.
"Are you actually gonna get to this information you claim to have for us or are you just going to keep drooling over my brother?" Sam demanded.
"Hey!" Dean protested. "There is no drooling, Dude. That's just gross."
"He checked you out and calls you cupcake."
Unable to come up with a good defense against that, Dean scowled and turned back to face Crowley, desperately trying to ignore the look that had graced Bobby's face at his brother's words. Even he didn't want to think about that too closely and from the way Castiel's emotions were going, he knew he had to steer the conversation away from this particular topic or they might be a demonic ally short, not that he wouldn't love to watch his husband smite Crowley, but they did actually need the demon right now. Much as it pained him to admit it.
"Toying with an archangel is not a particularly smart thing for a demon to do, Crowley," Dean reminded. "Castiel might just decide to do more than pin you to a wall this time."
"Now that I would have liked to see," Bobby stated.
"Did you have to bring the goon squad?" Crowley asked, looking only at Dean.
"Yes. Remember it's my way or the highway, mate," Dean replied evenly, though he couldn't help but mimic Crowley's accent for the last word.
"You do know how to drive a hard bargain, cupcake. I like that about you."
Oh great, since when had he started attracting demonic attention of this kind as well? Dean liked it much better when it had been just Sam who did that.
"I don't think that he has anything for us," Gwen stated.
"I concur," Castiel said.
"Lucifer has found the farmer he was looking for," Crowley stated.
"What?" Dean demanded, all other thoughts vanishing. "When? Where?"
"Somewhere in rural Mississippi. I'm surprised that you haven't heard of it yet given what his henchmen did to the family and the place."
"What farmer?" Bobby questioned.
"One Lucy was looking for," Dean explained. "Did you find out why he wanted the guy in the first place?"
"Rumor has it that the guy's blood was special," Crowley replied. "It would explain why they drained just about every last drop from the whole family but for his wife."
"Fuck," Sam uttered, speaking for all of them.
"Don't suppose you happen to know how it might have been special?" Bobby asked.
"There are a few different theories being bandied about, but the one I like best personally is that he is the descendent of an antichrist."
"That would make his blood extremely potent even if there have been a few generations in between," Castiel commented.
"Potent how?" Dean inquired. "Like as an ingredient for a potion or ritual?"
"Yes, precisely."
"Shit."
"That would fit with what else I've heard," Crowley said. "Apparently Lucifer has demons out searching for various other items all across the globe." With that the demon slid a piece of paper across the table. "These are the ones that I've heard about so far, but there are others."
"Think you can discover what they are?" Dean asked, looking over at the list when his husband picked it up and pulling a face at some of them.
"I will try, but dear old Dad is playing this close to the chest and hasn't told many about them."
"He has learned from his previous arrogance," Castiel stated with a frown.
"That figures," Gwen muttered.
"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Dean demanded as Crowley got to his feet.
"Away from here. I've been around you long enough as it is, cupcake," Crowley responded. "You want to know anything else, you text me."
With those words Crowley vanished and Dean scowled. Of course the demon would go before he had a chance to ask him how his little rebellion was going. It made him wonder if Crowley was even really attempting to sow discord amongst the other demons or if he was just keeping his head down and letting them do all of the real dirty work. He wouldn't put it past the demon and the only reason he didn't just assume that was the case now was because Crowley was already on Lucifer's hit list and stood to lose a hell of a lot if they lost and Lucifer won.
"Does that list of ingredients mean anything to you, Castiel?" Bobby asked.
"No," Castiel replied, handing it over to the hunter. "But I shall have Belliel crosscheck it against the records of potions, spells and rituals we have in Heaven's library."
"Why do I get the feeling that he won't find anything?" Dean muttered under his breath.
"It is worth checking nonetheless."
"I know, Cas, it's just- and I hate to say it- that it seems like your library was wiped clean of any and all records that might actually help us with this Apocalypse."
"Well at the very least we now know that Lucifer has something concrete planned," Gwen pointed out.
"Yeah, there is that," Dean admitted, snagging an onion ring from the platter. "Anyone want something else to drink?"
"I'll have another," Bobby replied, tapping his bottle.
"Me too," Gwen said.
"I'll come with you," Sam replied. "If Gwen will let me out that is."
"Sure."
"Any ideas what Lucifer might be up to?" Sam asked as they walked towards the bar.
"My guess would be that his priority is to locate you or another vessel that'll last him for more than a few days," Dean responded.
"But he can't take me now, right? We just have that final part of the ritual to complete and then I'm all in the clear."
"Unless you say yes again, then yeah."
"I won't."
The steel in his brother's voice would have convinced Dean of the truth behind those words even if he hadn't already known them to be true. If there was one thing that he was certain of it was that now that Sam had discovered exactly what it meant to be an angelic vessel for the devil that his brother was never going to allow it to happen again. Not only had it been extremely traumatic for Sam, but they both knew that now that Lucifer knew it was possible for his brother to take control when allowed to be aware, that the devil would just keep Sam under all the time. And unlike the situation with himself and Michael, or even any other vessel, that would be the end of that as Sam couldn't return to consciousness on his own.
A.N.: Viva NaNo!
Chapter 170
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash
Word Count: 3,215
Summary: Dean, Castiel and the others meet with Crowley to learn what he has discovered.
PRESENT
"Explain to me again how on Earth you thought it was a good idea to trust Crowley of all people?" Sam demanded as soon as the waitress left after having served them the large shared platter that they'd ordered.
Dean rolled his eyes as he reached for a deep fried mozzarella stick and dunked it into the marinara sauce. "For the last time, Sam, we're not trusting him, just working with him."
"And the difference is what exactly?"
"The difference is treating Crowley as we did before versus how you treated Ruby."
"Look, I hate to get in the middle of this particular argument, I really do," Gwen stated, cutting off any reply that Sam might have made. "But can I ask what that means exactly?"
"It means that we use him but give him as little information in return as possible," Castiel explained. "Crowley does not yet know that Michael and Raphael are on our side or about our alliance with the Vatican or any other details like that."
"Yeah, he wouldn't know about Cas' promotion to archangel from us either if he hadn't been able to see it for himself," Dean added.
"Speaking of which, congratulations Cas," Sam said, clapping the angel on the back. "What's it like to be an archangel?"
"It was strange at first, but I have grown accustomed to it," Castiel replied.
"Wait, you didn't know?" Dean inquired with a frown.
"No, we only learned of it when Samuel got the first of the Supernatural books that he'd been missing," Gwen explained.
Dean's let his head thunk onto the table top at that. "He got more of the books?" he demanded, smiling despite himself when he felt his husband's fingers coming up to massage the back of his neck, accompanied by a slight Grace probe to check whether he'd injured himself pulling his latest stunt.
Man but he loved the silly, sappy angel.
"Obsessed really is a good way of describing Samuel's behavior now that I think about it rationally," Bobby stated. "But, yes, he got three more of the books. Sam and I, though, had already heard of Castiel's promotion from Becky before that."
The mere thought of what those books might contain made Dean groan and want to sink into the floor in embarrassment. He was in no way proud of his behavior back then and kinda wished that he could take it all back now. If he'd known then that it would all be written down for posterity and available for anyone to read who was stupid enough to fork over the necessary cash to buy one of Chuck's monstrosities, he'd have never allowed himself to become so pathetic.
The fingers on the back of his neck tightened well beyond the usual massage strength and Dean winced slightly, knowing what was coming as his husband leaned over to hiss into his ear.
"You were not, nor have you ever been pathetic, Dean Winchester," Castiel declared fiercely, though low enough that the others wouldn't be able to overhear it. "You were dealing with something no human should have to deal with and then, on top of all the pain and suffering that you had already experienced, you discovered that you'd been betrayed by the one person who you trusted and loved above all others. If that doesn't give you the right to be miserable then nothing does."
Dean huffed. "And here I thought that you were upset with me for acting the way that I did."
"I admit that you didn't handle those emotions in the way that I would have liked you to, but I don't think that you were in a position at the time to do so in any other way."
"And you think I am now?"
"No, I know you are now."
"Yeah, I guess I am," Dean admitted after a moment's pause. "Thanks to you."
"I merely gave you the help that you needed to be able to achieve that yourself."
"You know, you're gonna have to learn that sometimes you just need to take that kind of compliment and say thank you."
"You first."
Dean snorted and then laughed. Him and Castiel really were a matched set, but he was more than okay with that. Really. "Have a mozzarella stick," he said in lieu of anything else, nudging the large platter a little closer to his husband.
"Aw, now isn't this just too precious for words?"
The instant the voice registered, Dean jerked his head back from where he and Castiel had been speaking. Apparently they'd slowly drifted closer to each other as they were talking until their foreheads were all but touching. A quick glance at the others proved that they'd noticed as well and the slight discomfort on Sam and Bobby's faces made him want to smirk but he forced it from his face as he turned to look at the newest arrival.
"Crowley," Dean acknowledged coldly.
"Now, now, cupcake, there's no need to be rude," Crowley replied, sneering down at the boot as if checking it for dirt before reluctantly seating himself beside Gwen. "You're the one who told me to meet you here, not the other way around."
"Yeah, yeah, now what did you want to talk about?"
"You really have no idea how to woo a connection diplomatically now do you, cupcake?"
Dean growled, baring his teeth at Crowley, but he reluctantly calmed when Castiel placed a hand on his arm.
"You do have something to tell us, don't you, Crowley?" Castiel asked, voice quiet but firm.
"Of course I do. Like I'd risk a meeting you two if I didn't," Crowley responded, glancing about. "Did it have to be somewhere so public?"
"Well we could have invited you to where we were staying but you wouldn't have liked that very much," Sam sneered. "Not that I'd have minded but I got overruled."
"Ah yes, you went back to the pit bull, cupcake, how lovely," Crowley sneered. "Are you sure he's safe? From what I heard, once an angelic vessel, always an angelic vessel."
"How about you let us worry about that, Crowley?" Dean retorted, though he couldn't help but be slightly amused that Sam was currently the one being compared to an unthinking guard dog.
That had always been him in the past and Dean couldn't help but like and feel proud of the one-eighty in that regard. It was something of a first for him, to think of his reasoning abilities and strategic skills with pride. The hand that came to rest on the small of his back showed that some of his thoughts and feelings had spilled out over the bond to his husband and sent the equivalent of a smile at Castiel in return in place of an actual one given their present company. His bond mate's gesture wasn't lost on Crowley though as he caught how the demon's eyes tracked the movement from across the table. Though it annoyed him a little, it also brought to his attention the way Crowley hadn't even considered scooting in next to him and that made him smile. Whether it was because the demon didn't want to get that close to him or Castiel he didn't particularly care, just the fact that Crowley felt the need to distance himself as much as possible from either of them was more than enough for him.
"It's my neck on the line here too, princess," Crowley replied, smirking as he met Dean's eyes. "I see you're still managing to hold onto twinkle toe's attentions. Makes a demon wonder exactly how you do it, or just how good a lay you really are."
"Crowley!" Castiel snarled warningly.
"Whoa, Cas, don't!" Dean sent silently over their bond. "He's doing it on purpose to try and anger you, probably to make you spill the beans on something he wants to know. Don't let him play you."
"Easy, easy now, Castiel," Crowley soothed condescendingly before pulling out his flask and taking a sip. "Like I said before, I'm not trying to poach your pet, just wondering what it is about him that can keep your attention for so long. There's got to be something."
"Nothing you would understand."
Crowley laughed at that and Dean couldn't help but recall what it was that the demon had said the last time. About how with something as powerful as his husband, he couldn't be anything other than a pet or temporary plaything. Apparently even being a pet had some kind of time limit on it and he shuddered to think of what that meant in Hell. Even there he'd heard the odd comment about how long he'd captured and held Alastair's attentions, which made him wonder what it was about him that had snared his old master's interest. The reason for the first thirty years was more than obvious now, but those last ten not so much. At least some of it would have been triumph and the feeling of victory that Alastair would have experienced every time the demon watched him carve up another soul or do whatever his master had demanded. But after that? What had it been then?
Before Dean would have written it off as something stupid or not even have considered it worth his attention and efforts at uncovering the true meaning. Now, however, he couldn't help but wonder at it all. Did it have anything to do with his soul and how different and unique everyone seemed to say that it was? That particular thought was a lot more difficult for him to acknowledge but he'd had enough experience while with Michael now to know what the average soul looked like while in a human meatsuit and compared to what Michael saw when looking at him even he couldn't deny that there was a clear and marked difference.
The question was what did that mean?
The easiest solution that Dean could come up with was that he'd had the misfortune (or fortune as he'd seen what happened to souls that got passed around in the Pitt) of maintaining Alastair's personal interest because he was so different from everyone else. If there was one thing his old master had loved it was to be seen as different from all of the others, the common, pathetic and unimaginative amateurs as Alastair had often called them sneeringly. So to have a soul as unique as his own as a pet must have given the demon a kick whenever Alastair had looked upon him. It made him wonder if his old master would have grown tired of him once he'd fully demonized or if he'd still have been unique enough to maintain Alastair's interest even then.
It wasn't something Dean was particularly interested in thinking much about. But either way, if Crowley looked at things even remotely in the same way as Alastair had, then he could more than understand why the demon just didn't get Castiel's interest in him given how long they'd already been together. Love was an almost totally alien concept to those in Hell other than that it made a great way to torture newly arrived souls. Besides, he didn't particularly care for Crowley thinking too closely on his relationship with his husband. Reluctant ally or not, the guy was still a demon and one who'd turn against them just as soon as Lucifer was out of the picture.
"As if you didn't check him out yourself," Gwen snorted.
"What?" Dean squawked.
"He totally checked you out before stepping up to the table."
Absently Dean felt Castiel stiffen beside him even as his husband's hand on his back shifted across so that his bond mate could grasp his hip. Most of his attention, though, was focused on the demon sitting across from him who sipped his drink calmly.
"What can I say, I'm not blind, cupcake," Crowley shrugged minutely. "Besides, all crossroads demons learn to appreciate human beauty. Deals are much easier to make when wearing a handsome or gorgeous body."
Now that he thought about it, Dean had to agree that he'd never seen an unattractive crossroads demon. All of the ones that he'd dealt with had been quite beautiful actually. Well, except for Crowley, but then as the head of the crossroads demons he probably wouldn't have to worry about that too much. Though it could also be that Crowley just wasn't his type as it wasn't that the demon was unattractive either. Or it might just be that he saw it that way because he knew Crowley, which pretty much spoiled any appreciation he might ever have had for the meatsuit the demon was wearing.
"Are you actually gonna get to this information you claim to have for us or are you just going to keep drooling over my brother?" Sam demanded.
"Hey!" Dean protested. "There is no drooling, Dude. That's just gross."
"He checked you out and calls you cupcake."
Unable to come up with a good defense against that, Dean scowled and turned back to face Crowley, desperately trying to ignore the look that had graced Bobby's face at his brother's words. Even he didn't want to think about that too closely and from the way Castiel's emotions were going, he knew he had to steer the conversation away from this particular topic or they might be a demonic ally short, not that he wouldn't love to watch his husband smite Crowley, but they did actually need the demon right now. Much as it pained him to admit it.
"Toying with an archangel is not a particularly smart thing for a demon to do, Crowley," Dean reminded. "Castiel might just decide to do more than pin you to a wall this time."
"Now that I would have liked to see," Bobby stated.
"Did you have to bring the goon squad?" Crowley asked, looking only at Dean.
"Yes. Remember it's my way or the highway, mate," Dean replied evenly, though he couldn't help but mimic Crowley's accent for the last word.
"You do know how to drive a hard bargain, cupcake. I like that about you."
Oh great, since when had he started attracting demonic attention of this kind as well? Dean liked it much better when it had been just Sam who did that.
"I don't think that he has anything for us," Gwen stated.
"I concur," Castiel said.
"Lucifer has found the farmer he was looking for," Crowley stated.
"What?" Dean demanded, all other thoughts vanishing. "When? Where?"
"Somewhere in rural Mississippi. I'm surprised that you haven't heard of it yet given what his henchmen did to the family and the place."
"What farmer?" Bobby questioned.
"One Lucy was looking for," Dean explained. "Did you find out why he wanted the guy in the first place?"
"Rumor has it that the guy's blood was special," Crowley replied. "It would explain why they drained just about every last drop from the whole family but for his wife."
"Fuck," Sam uttered, speaking for all of them.
"Don't suppose you happen to know how it might have been special?" Bobby asked.
"There are a few different theories being bandied about, but the one I like best personally is that he is the descendent of an antichrist."
"That would make his blood extremely potent even if there have been a few generations in between," Castiel commented.
"Potent how?" Dean inquired. "Like as an ingredient for a potion or ritual?"
"Yes, precisely."
"Shit."
"That would fit with what else I've heard," Crowley said. "Apparently Lucifer has demons out searching for various other items all across the globe." With that the demon slid a piece of paper across the table. "These are the ones that I've heard about so far, but there are others."
"Think you can discover what they are?" Dean asked, looking over at the list when his husband picked it up and pulling a face at some of them.
"I will try, but dear old Dad is playing this close to the chest and hasn't told many about them."
"He has learned from his previous arrogance," Castiel stated with a frown.
"That figures," Gwen muttered.
"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Dean demanded as Crowley got to his feet.
"Away from here. I've been around you long enough as it is, cupcake," Crowley responded. "You want to know anything else, you text me."
With those words Crowley vanished and Dean scowled. Of course the demon would go before he had a chance to ask him how his little rebellion was going. It made him wonder if Crowley was even really attempting to sow discord amongst the other demons or if he was just keeping his head down and letting them do all of the real dirty work. He wouldn't put it past the demon and the only reason he didn't just assume that was the case now was because Crowley was already on Lucifer's hit list and stood to lose a hell of a lot if they lost and Lucifer won.
"Does that list of ingredients mean anything to you, Castiel?" Bobby asked.
"No," Castiel replied, handing it over to the hunter. "But I shall have Belliel crosscheck it against the records of potions, spells and rituals we have in Heaven's library."
"Why do I get the feeling that he won't find anything?" Dean muttered under his breath.
"It is worth checking nonetheless."
"I know, Cas, it's just- and I hate to say it- that it seems like your library was wiped clean of any and all records that might actually help us with this Apocalypse."
"Well at the very least we now know that Lucifer has something concrete planned," Gwen pointed out.
"Yeah, there is that," Dean admitted, snagging an onion ring from the platter. "Anyone want something else to drink?"
"I'll have another," Bobby replied, tapping his bottle.
"Me too," Gwen said.
"I'll come with you," Sam replied. "If Gwen will let me out that is."
"Sure."
"Any ideas what Lucifer might be up to?" Sam asked as they walked towards the bar.
"My guess would be that his priority is to locate you or another vessel that'll last him for more than a few days," Dean responded.
"But he can't take me now, right? We just have that final part of the ritual to complete and then I'm all in the clear."
"Unless you say yes again, then yeah."
"I won't."
The steel in his brother's voice would have convinced Dean of the truth behind those words even if he hadn't already known them to be true. If there was one thing that he was certain of it was that now that Sam had discovered exactly what it meant to be an angelic vessel for the devil that his brother was never going to allow it to happen again. Not only had it been extremely traumatic for Sam, but they both knew that now that Lucifer knew it was possible for his brother to take control when allowed to be aware, that the devil would just keep Sam under all the time. And unlike the situation with himself and Michael, or even any other vessel, that would be the end of that as Sam couldn't return to consciousness on his own.
A.N.: Viva NaNo!
Chapter 170