Work Text:
He knew what awaited him as he raised the blade.
Nothing.
He plunged the weapon into his gut, expecting darkness and oblivion.
But instead –
He could feel and hear and see the nothing, which should not have been possible.
Slowly, the... nothing (he couldn’t even call it darkness; it rather felt like he had gone blind and deaf, even though he knew instinctively that his senses were working perfectly fine) lifted.
He was standing in the middle of a... dessert that seemed to glitter and twist and turn every second, mesmerized by the movement of the black beauty before him.
It was peaceful. He would almost have believed that this was what Heaven was like, but demons didn’t go to Heaven when they died. They ceased to be.
He knew the feeling of hell and Purgatory, and that wasn’t it either, so where –
“Hello, Uncle Crowley.”
He remembered that voice. He turned around. “Amara.”
God’s sister was smiling at him, almost but not quite as if she was glad to see him.
Crowley would have fled, but there was no point. He was dead anyway. Had to be.
“Not yet.”
Oh great, and apparently she could read his thoughts here, too.
“I thought it would be easier. Humans are so difficult to understand – “
“I’m a demon” he reminded her.
“I barely noticed when you raised me.”
With everyone else, he would have assumed they were being sarcastic, but not Amara. He doubted she even understood what sarcasm was.
“Aren’t you on your tour across the universe?”
“I am, but Chuck and I felt the disturbance in this world and I decided to check.”
The nephilim opening the parallel universe. Had to be.
“And when I saw what was happening, I managed to get hold of you,” she added.
“Thank you for that.”
The problem was, he had no idea where they were going from here, and he hated not knowing what was going on.
“You sacrificed yourself for the Winchesters” she said. He shrugged his shoulders.
“I saw it more as getting rid off the devil.”
“You just said I can read your thoughts.”
Crowley’s shoulders slumped. From the moment he’d become aware of himself again, he had been worrying about the boys.
And then he realized Amara looked – guilty.
“Amara?” he stepped up to her. Dean had not feared her, so why should he? He had been King, after all. “What happened?”
“While I was – it was not easy saving you, and you were in the other universe – Lucifer killed Castiel.”
Cas was dead.
A sudden vision – the angel lying on the ground, his burned wings next to him.
The pain he felt surprised him. He must have got more attached to Feathers than he had thought.
“I could have done without that” he said calmly. There was little he had to fear of the Darkness now. He was already dead. And yet – if he’d had a heart, it would have been beating wildly.
Sam and Dean – Dean must be devastated. He didn’t have any delusions that they’d care he was dead, but Cas had been a part of their team for years now.
“And Mary Winchester is caught in the parallel Universe. With Lucifer.”
Thankfully this time he was spared the vision.
What the hell? Mummy Winchester hadn’t even been near the portal, last thing he knew.
“What about Dean?” After a pause he quickly added, “And Sam?”
“You know” Amara said, “I am not surprised. I... latched onto Dean even though he no longer wore the Mark. How do the humans say? The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?”
He looked away. He wouldn’t even have wanted to consider the topic when he was alive, much less now that he had met his demise.
And yet things just kept going. His luck.
“Crowley” Amara said, “There is a decision you have to make.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dean taught me the importance of Free Will, of being able to choose. When demons die, they go into the Nothing. You could do that – or you could return to the Winchesters. It won’t be easy. Lucifer’s son is out there, and they have to deal with Castiel’s death. Maybe there is a way to get him back. I don’t know.”
That was it, then. Either he could return to being the Winchesters’ dog — as his mother had so eloquently put it one day — to a world where there was nothing left for him, or he could choose— well, he could choose the Nothing, and something like peace for the first time since he had been born.
And the decision should have been easy. He was done. He had decided this was it. Demons didn’t hesitate. Demons didn’t go back and help their friends. They had no friends.
The boys certainly wouldn’t have called him a friend.
Amara was studying him, calm, in control. Normally he was the one filling that role. It was disconcerting.
This should have been easy. He could bow out without the Winchesters ever knowing. They would not remember him as a coward.
Why was it important anyway how he was remembered? He was a demon. He didn’t care.
He shouldn’t have cared.
Crowley sighed when he realized he had already made his decision.
Damn Winchesters.
Amara smiled.
“You wanted me to go back.” It wasn’t a question.
She didn’t answer. Not at first. Then, she said, “I knew you would go back. Do you really think I wouldn’t know the one who raised me?”
He’d never been very adept with children — his own son had been proof of that — but he steered away from the thought, it was too painful.
“You know I did join the others in an effort to get rid of you. I didn’t think you would come to my rescue.”
“Humanity has a great capacity for forgiveness. And I guess I was a little out of control. Earth is very beautiful. It would be a pity if something happened to it. And I think that you can help keep it safe.”
He almost laughed. Almost. Because, in his fight to save his own skin or his throne, he had indeed helped save the world several times.
“That is... very nice of you.”
A secretive smile. “The Winchesters... they have an effect on people and entities.”
He could only agree.
She stepped up to him and, to his surprise, kissed his cheek. “Take this as a thank you gift for raising me, no matter how short the time.”
Power, almost overwhelming in its intensity, flowed within him. “It won’t last. I couldn’t give anyone that much mojo, I am afraid, not even someone as trustworthy as you.”
She was actually joking now. How quaint.
“Proud of you, my child,” he joked back.
She chuckled. “Ready to return?”
As ready as he’d ever be. He nodded.
Amara sadly still hadn’t learned subtlety, it seemed, because he was returned to a room where Dean was busy mourning Cas’ dead body.
He looked awful. Worse than Crowley had ever seen him, and he’d spent time with him as a demon.
“Squirrel.”
Dean looked up from the table. “Wonderful,” he muttered. “Now I’m hallucinating. Come on, do your bit. How I got you killed and I’m just a worthless piece of trash – God knows that’s exactly what he would do.”
Crowley could have tried to convince him, but he knew Dean Winchester would rather have the hands-on approach, and so he stepped up to Dean and hit him lightly on the head.
Really, he was a very nice demon.
He admitted to himself that the power Amara had bestowed on him was making him a bit giddy.
“I – what – Crowley?” Dean blinked. “You’re… here? And alive?”
“As large as life, and twice as natural.”
“Did you really just come back from the dead to quote Lewis Carroll at me?”
“And here I thought you’d never admit to reading something thicker than a comic book.”
“What happened?”
“Amara. She decided the world couldn’t exist without me. Since she is an all-powerful being currently travelling with an all-knowing one, I am not surprised at her wisdom.”
He was about to go on this way until he noticed how Dean was looking at him. Like he was actually glad that he was alive.
“Man” the hunter finally said, “I must say, after the day I’ve had, this feels like cracking the jackpot.”
Crowley didn’t know what to say.
“So you—” Dean gestured towards the table. “If you wanna say goodbye—”
He nodded. Dean left him alone with the body.
He uncovered the angel’s face.
“Cassie, that was not what I wanted when I stabbed myself. I wanted you all to get away.”
He was tempted to use Amara’s powers. But she had already told him she couldn’t bring Cas back.
“I’ll look after them until you can resume your post as guardian angel. Don’t worry about the boys.”
He also spared a moment for Kelly. She had just been an innocent woman, dragged into the world of the supernatural and mind-controlled by the Antichrist. She hadn’t deserved this.
Dean was waiting for him outside.
“Amara said,” he began, slowly and carefully, “that there might be a way to bring Cas back, even if she didn’t know it.”
Dean looked at him. Something like light returned to his eyes. “You think so?”
“I have seen you boys do impossible things often enough. What’s one more resurrection?”
“God I’m glad you’re back,” Dean breathed, obviously surprising himself as well as Crowley.
“So,” he said while the hunter cleared his throat, “where’s Satan Jr.?”
He grimaced. “Back with Sammy.”
“Let me guess. He’s already busy parenting him.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. Crowley shrugged. “Given his history, ‘child with supernatural powers that is supposed to go bad’ is his kryptonite. It makes sense.”
“It does, your Majesty.”
“Not the King anymore. I abdicated, remember?”
“True enough. You’ll stay with us now?”
Crowley was baffled, but didn’t show it. Dean was probably clinging to anything familiar at the moment.
“As long as my room is clean and I get service...”
Dean actually laughed. Crowley didn’t think he’d done much of that in the last twenty-four hours.
“I better call Sammy and tell him, or he’s gonna flip when he sees you. I’ll just – “
Maybe out of habit, Dean walked a few steps away from him as he dialled. “Sam, Crowley’s back. Yeah, apparently Amara intervened. No,” his voice broke, “No one else. But Crowley’s there. Yeah, fine, bring the Anti- okay, Jack. If you insist.”
He hung up. “By the way, he thinks Cas is his father, apparently. And that was enough to make Sam swear he’d love him forever.” He sounded bitter.
“Do you think he’ll go the way of his dear old Daddy?”
“Not to judge— I mean, you see the company I keep,” Dean said, gesturing towards him with a smile that was gone in an instant “But he is the son of Lucifer. And all my instincts are telling me something’s up.”
If there was anyone in the world whose instincts Crowley thought it best to trust, it was Dean Winchester.
At least he’s joking again, though. That meant he felt better.
Really, why did he care so much about Dean’s mental health? Must be Amara’s influence.
Sam and – Jack (he would have thought the son of Satan deserved a more awe-inspiring name, but who knew) arrived soon afterwards, and he should probably have foreseen everything going “to shit” as Dean would have said.
Sam was staring at Crowley, and he was about to greet –
“You,” the nephilim hissed, his eyes glowing.
“Jack?” Sam began. “This is Crowley. He’s a—” he trailed off.
“Friend,” Dean finished gruffly. “You can turn those—”
“My father said you were dead.”
“What? Cas said what?” Sam asked. “He can’t have—”
Jack laughed. “My real father. Not that idiot I only had to show Paradise to in order to get him on my side. I know exactly who I am, and what I am capable of.”
“Jack—” Sam tried, but he waved a hand and Crowley realized he was going to—
He didn’t even have to move. Just as Dean was crying out, “Sammy!” Jack stood still and blinked.
“Why didn’t you explode?” he whined.
“Because your dear great-aunt saw it fit to bestow a gift on me, not-really-light-bringer. And look at that, I know exactly how to use it.”
A second later and the devil baby was no more. Crowley felt the power leave him and stumbled slightly. Dean caught him. “You alright?”
He nodded. Bringing him back must have taken more energy than he had realized; Amara’s gift had concealed that for the time being. “Would have liked to carry the power a bit longer, but what can you do.”
“No offense but I’m rather glad no one has that much,” Sam said, unknowingly echoing the Darkness. “So what now?”
He seemed to be in a light state of shock. Dean noticed it too, but shook his head at Crowley.
“Now,” he pronounced, “We give Cas and Kelly the wake they deserve. And then we go home.”
“So we got nothing?” Sam asked.
“I wouldn’t say that, Sammy,” Dean said, looking at Crowley. “We have something we didn’t have two hours before. We have hope.”
And for the time being, even watching one of the few friends he had ever managed to make burn, that was quite enough.