Chapter Text
His first thought isn’t even Oh God or How? but Of course Crowley has to be fancy even as a homeless guy, because that is what his life ultimately boils down to. If he freaked out over every weird stuff he’s confronted with, he’d probably have a heart attack within an hour.
So the former king of hell sitting on a park bench and reading Robert Burns’ poems while his belongings are neatly packed away in two Armani backpacks next to him is no big deal.
“I’ll give you that, it’s a good cover” he says, stepping up to him.
No disgruntled demon would look for Crowley out on the streets of all places.
A small part of him feels annoyed that he hasn’t even thought it necessary to let them know he was alive, let alone that he’s back. Sure, they didn’t exactly part as the best of friends, but in his own small way, he even grieved for the guy. And continued to, after they dealt with Satan Jr. and Cas was resurrected once more, grieved through the whole year it took him to find Crowley here on a nondescript park bench in a nondescript park of a nondescript town.
The reaction he gets astounds him. Faster than he can blink, Crowley has put his book away, grabbed his two backpacks and stood up, saying tiredly, “Don’t worry, officer, I’m on my way”.
He waits. Waits to be hailed as “Squirrel” and thoroughly laughed at because of the face he’s certainly making right now, for the self-assure demon he knows to come through, but it doesn’t happen.
Instead, Crowley starts walking away.
“Wait!”
He rushed after him and grabs his biceps.
He flinches.
“Crowley?”
He turns around.
There’s absolutely no recognition in his eyes, and Dean almost can’t hide his shock when he realizes.
Crowley has no idea who he is.
“I told you, I’m on my way. I have no wish to get into trouble – “
“You’re not in trouble. Crowley, it’s me – Dean Winchester – “
“Crowley? Is that my name?” he asks so innocently Dean has to take a moment to breathe.
“Yes. It is.”
There’s something like hope in his eyes, now.
“You know me?”
“Better than anyone, I’d imagine”.
At least anyone alive right now. He doesn’t mention that detail.
“So we’re... friends?”
“Besties, actually” that same voice says loud and clearly in Dean’s head, so very confident and at ease, the complete opposite of the – man? standing in front of him.
“Yes. Yes we are. You disappeared a while back. We –“ he stops, realizing Crowley has no idea who “we” are.
“Me and my brother and our best friend” he finally continues, “we were all worried about you”.
Well, less worried and more... kind of sorry no red-eyed dick was going to drop in anymore to annoy them. They even went so far to tell his story on hunter get-togethers, so that he wouldn’t be entirely forgotten.
How ironic. The only one who has forgotten all about him is Crowley himself.
“Look, I know you have no reason to trust me – “
“That’s quite alright. I haven’t got anything to lose either”.
Well if that’s not freaking depressing.
“So you’ll come with me?” he asks, somewhat astonished at how eager he is to have them all together again. “We’re working a case in this town, so it’s only a motel room for now, but you’re welcome to stay with us if you’d like”.
He hasn’t cleared it with Sam or Cas yet, but I can’t imagine them turning their... somewhat-ally away in his condition.
“Better than on the street” Crowley decides and Dean breathes a sigh of relief.
He sends a quick text to Sam, who’s been visiting the morgue with Cas – Found Crowley. Ask no questions; he has no idea who he is. Amnesia or something. Just get a bottle of holy water ready.
“You said case... did we work together?” Crowley asks (so freaking innocently).
“Now and then, yeah” Dean says truthfully.
They did after all hunt Lucifer’s hell hound together... that must count for something, right?
Oh God, he suddenly realizes, Juliet. Damn dog has been hanging around the bunker since a few weeks after Crowley’s death, when she just showed up out of the blue; each of them had an angel blade in hand in turn and couldn’t bring himself to do her in.
She’s going to flip out and Crowley will be thrown down on the floor by an invisible mutt slobbering all over him.
First things first: get him to a motel.
“Can’t be the feds” Crowley said suddenly. “Someone would have come looking for me then”.
He sounds so resigned Dean can’t take it.
“We thought you were dead. That’s why we didn’t search for you. Something... went wrong on a case”.
Crowley actually looks pleased.
Dean doesn’t stop to think whether he would have looked for him, because...
Well, because the answer would probably be an all too enthusiastic “Of course”.
Sam and Cas have readied themselves for the sight that awaits them and don’t even jump when Crowley walks into the motel room in front of Dean.
“Crowley” they say almost at the same time.
“This is my brother Sam, and this is our friend Cas”.
Crowley nods before drawling, “Sorry, boys, no idea who you are”.
That... almost sounds like the old him.
“I’m thirsty. You want some water too?” Dean asks casually.
He nods and he goes to the fridge.
Sam has left two bottles of holy water to cool, and while it’s thrown away on Dean, that’s a prize he’s ready to pay.
“Here” he passes him a bottle, and, as he expected, Crowley waits for him to take a drink before he does the same.
No reaction.
He came back as human as Cas, then.
That settles that.
“Look” he says once they’ve all sat down at the small table, “I know this will sound insane...”
“You have no idea” Crowley mumbles.
“Trust me, I do. Okay, there’s no way to sugarcoat this. I told you we were on a case... a supernatural one. Because almost everything you can think of – ghosts, monsters, et cetera – they’re real. And we hunt them”.
He thought he was prepared for every answer Crowley could think of, but he’s still shocked when he reacts with, “Do some of them have black eyes?”
“Yeah” Sam says, “how do you –“
“I see them from time to time. I try to get away; they attack me when they realize I’m there”.
His expression tells Dean there was more than one close call involved.
“Yeah. Those are demons”.
Again, not a single sign of recognition, not even the smallest suspicion he could ever have been one of them.
“Did they say anything?” Cas asks. “Before they attacked you?”
Crowley shrugs. “They mostly sprouted a lot of nonsense... about taking revenge or stuff like that. Of course this explains it.”
He waves a hand towards all of them.
Right. He thinks they were colleagues.
They could tell him the truth... but frankly, what would be the point? He’s already had it hard enough during the last year, and he did sacrifice himself for them.
Alright, also to get rid of Lucifer, but still.
Neither Sam nor Cas make any attempt to tell him.
Okay then.
And two days later, after they’ve solved the case (Crowley doing a pretty good job of manning the phones in the meantime) they’re on the way back to the bunker, and Dean is surprised just how complete the team feels with the former demon in the backseat.
They’ve warned him about Juliet (he seems to think she’s just their team’s pet) so he reacts pretty well when she jumps at him, barking excitedly.
“Guess she missed you” Dean says calmly.
And then they have Crowley living with them, and the goddamn guy seems so freaking comfortable.
It’s annoying Dean to no end because, if anything, he finally wants his make-shift family to be honest with one another, but how can they be when the truth would probably freak him so badly he might not recover?
What’s frustrating him the most is how obvious it must all seem to Crowley. They recognized him and took him in immediately, so they must be his pals, right? And because he’s been around since the First Apocalypse that never was, all their stories make it seem like he hung out with them all the time, and because they were on cases then, cases they can’t help but mention, and he’s got pretty good fighting skills, he must be a hunter in his mind.
See? Freaking obvious.
Naturally the thought of being anything else but human never occurred to him. Why would it?
There are a few things they have to tell him, though; he takes the news of his mother’s and son’s death pretty well, probably because why he understands what it means, there is no single remembrance he can connect with either of them.
Instead, it can be said that he grows more and more attached to them all, in exactly the way it happens when you become friends with someone.
And goddamn it – they like him to, alright?
The last thing Dean would have imagined, from his brief problem with human blood, would have been that Crowley could end up not only a decent man, but a pretty good one.
He’s just – he’s nice and kind and friendly all the time, exactly what you’d expect from a homeless guy who suddenly finds himself surrounded by friends with a room of his own.
Even Jody has to admit that, and he almost killed her some years ago.
As soon as she hears Crowley’s back, she comes rushing, only to stand absolutely still and stare at the ex-king of hell who’s leaving it up to her whether she wants tea or coffee, and oh, would she like something to eat with that? He’s sure he can scrounge up something for her –
“Oh God” she mumbles after he disappears into the kitchen, “how do you deal with those puppy dog eyes?”
“I’m in training, think of Sam”.
“Is he like that all the time?”
“Yep. Best roommate I ever had. And I’m living with an actual used-to-be-an-angel these days”.
“And he has no idea?”
“None. And to be honest, none of us can bring themselves to tell him. He’s so freaking happy here, Jody”.
“I can see that”.
She sighs.
“Alright then, looks like your “Team Free Will” got another member”.
It does indeed. Crowley is a pretty good fighter, and some of that demon knowledge he had must still be flying around in his head, because he finds lore incredibly quickly.
So, yeah, things are... good.
For a while.
Until... Dean can’t really explain it, but he knows Crowley isn’t happy anymore. He’s always slinking around in the shadows, suddenly, and Dean could swear he hears him walking around at night when before he had no trouble sleeping through.
One night, Dean has enough and catches him just as he’s about to go to the library.
And if those are not the eyes of a haunted man, Dean has never looked into a mirror.
“You remember”.
It’s not a question.
Crowley nods.
“A few weeks now”.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You want to know the truth, Squirrel?” he asks tiredly.
“Because the past you allowed me to believe in was far more pleasant”.
“It was, wasn’t it.”
Juliet comes up to them, invisible to every inhabitant of the bunker now.
“You wouldn’t have your doggie then, though”.
Crowley actually chuckles.
“I guess”.
After a pause, he asks, “Do you want me to leave?”
“No”.
He can say that with conviction. None of them would feel comfortable, just sending their – friend out into the world.
Crowley nods.
“You’ll still bake pies, right?” Dean asks hopefully. It’s one of the talents he definitely didn’t expect Crowley to have.
He groans.
“Fine, Squirrel, but only if you make burgers.”
“I can do that. Now, come on; we both need a night cap”.