Chapter Text
Rowena was dead. There could be no doubt whatsoever about it. She was dead as a doornail.
Now, her son had never considered a doornail the most definitely dead piece of ironmongery, but that was the expression, and he had nothing against using it, especially when it came to the woman who had made it her mission to torture him since the day he had been born.
Granted, she had died on Christmas Eve, but since he had never bothered to celebrate the holidays, the date had not caused any additional distress to the one he wasn’t feeling to begin with.
Therefore, in the week before the seventh anniversary to her death, he paid her the same remembrance he had since the sad event occurred: thinking of her as little as possible and focusing on his business.
Crowley, Inc. had from the first been a success and had only continued to become more and more valuable as the years went by. There was no particular reason for him to be pleased to acquire even more money, actually; he had more than enough to live comfortably; but he had nothing better to do, and if that gave him a reputation as an old miserable miser, so be it.
Sadly, this didn’t deter nearly as many people as he wished it would.
“Father!”
As always, he frowned when he heard his son’s greeting. They certainly had had precious little interaction during his son’s formative years; in fact, only a few months ago, having reached the age of twenty-seven, Gavin had decided to call on him and try to have them pretend they were a close-knit family. Crowley assumed it had something to do with the death of his mother, Lilith, who had always gladly taken his money but had never offered him to any contact with the boy.
It had quite frankly been enough for Crowley to occasionally hear about his son from his mother.
“Gavin” he said, once again wondering why his secretary hadn’t warned him about the ambush, “How are you?”
“I’m quite well. Fiona is, too.”
He would never understand why Gavin had felt the need to get married in his mid-twenties.
“How nice to hear.”
“Again with the sarcasm, Father?”
“I never go anywhere without it, thank you very much.”
Gavin sighed. “Can we not do this? I just wanted to invite you to Christmas dinner.”
He should have foreseen this. Ever since he first called him, Gavin had continued to pester him with invitations and had born all rejections with a smile and the good humour that never seemed to leave him.
Crowley was at an utter loss who he had inherited it from. Lilith certainly hadn’t been very jolly.
“I’ll be working.”
Gavin’s face fell. “You’re always working! It’s Christmas!”
“Just a day like any other.”
“It’s not! Christmas is a time where the family should come together, where hearts open wide, the one moment a year when everyone stops and takes a look at the blessings they have been given!”
“Amen” Dean declared. Crowley glowered at his secretary.
“Yes, Mr. Winchester, what is it?”
“I have told you a million times, Mr. Winchester is my father” he answered, belatedly adding “sir”.
Crowley grit his teeth. He had been on the verge of firing Dean a million times, but for some reason had never been able to bring himself to do it.
“Your meeting with Dick Roman is scheduled for three pm today” he explained cheerfully, “So you two can plot your plan to take over the world.”
“It’s a possible business merger that could – “
“Yes, heard you the first million times. Hot chocolate at my desk once this curmudgeon blows you off, again, Gavin?”
“Sure thing Dean.”
The last thing he would have expected was that his son and his secretary would become friends.
Thankfully, the latter left them alone after that.
“Dean’s pretty nice” Gavin said suddenly. Where had that come from?
“I am more interested in his secretary work, and if he continues offering hot chocolate to you instead, I might look for a replacement.”
Gavin looked scandalized. “You can’t do that! You know he needs money for his family – “
“No I don’t, and I don’t wish to know” he said firmly.
Gavin shook his head. “Of course you don’t. Well, don’t expect me to stop inviting you over any time soon. Goodbye, Father.”
With that, he proceeded to the next room and the cup of hot chocolate Dean had undoubtedly already prepared for both of them.
Crowley focused on the files on his desk.
Now and then he could hear Dean’s laughter, probably because his son had made another hilarious quip about him. As always, he did his best not to listen.
Whether Dean was happy while fulfilling his duties was no matter to him.
Chapter Text
“I assume it went as well as expected?“ Dean asked when Gavin joined him in his small room. Poor guy. Just wanted nice family holidays and his father couldn’t be bothered to play along.
He nodded. “I have no plan of giving up soon, though.”
Dean handed him his cup of hot chocolate. As a small act of rebellion against his boss, who hated decorations, he’d made sure his desk was as cheerful as it could possibly be.
“I bet he loves that” Gavin said, pointing at the little Christmas tree that sang an awful rendition of Jingle Bells when one pressed the star at the top.
“Oh yes. He looked like he wanted to set it on fire when I put it up, but my desk, my rules.”
“Plus he can’t find a better secretary.”
Dean waved away the compliment. “Just doing my job.”
“You say that like it’s nothing. Becky from HR told me he had seven secretaries in the two years before you applied.”
“They just didn’t know how to take him. You have to let him do his thing.”
“Becky also said usually anyone who dares defy him gets fired immediately.”
Dean shrugged. “What can I say? Must be my good looks.”
He winked.
“Careful, I’m married, remember?”
“To my everlasting disappontment.”
Gavin shook his head and emptied his cup. “Look a bit after him, will you? He won’t admit it but I know he’s lonely.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you, Dean.”
“As I said: just doing my job.”
Dean watched his friend leave. If only Crowley were a bit more amenable to building a relationship with his son.
Or in general, the traitorous voice in his head whispered and Dean almost groaned.
Why did the hot guys always have to be such jerks? Himself excluded, of course.
The time for the meeting with Dick Roman drew nearer. Dean had never liked the man; there was something vile, almost snake-like about him. He’d more than once wished for Crowley to drop him as a client – surely there was a limit to how much money one could make? But right now, he was still working with his boss, and so Dean had to smile as the man strolled in.
“Mr. Roman.”
“Dean.”
His leery grin did little to do away with Dean’s prejudice.
“How nice to see you.”
Wish I could say the same, Dean almost said but thought better off it. “Mr. Crowley is waiting for you.” He pointedly left out the “sir”, but unlike with his boss, it was less an expression of somewhat annoyed affection and more in the hope of genuinely annoying him.
“Of course. Always prepared.” Dick Roman stepped up to his desk. Thankfully Dean had got up, so he was the one looking down on Dick instead of the other way round.
“You’re really very talented Mr. Winchester, and it is a waste to still work for the son of a bitch when I’d be willing to offer –“
“Like I said” Dean stated, pointing at the door, “He’s waiting.”
And he didn’t like to be kept waiting, as Roman knew very well indeed. But, if he did do it, Crowley would later take it out on Dean, as he was aware of as well, so there was nothing to do but to wait until he would see it fit to enter –
Crowley opened the door. “Mr. Roman, I thought you’d be punctual. Please, come in.”
Dean blinked as the door closed behind them. What had that been about? Crowley preferred it that visitors had to step up to him as he was sitting at his desk. The only reason he could think of was that he might have wanted to spare Dean from having to spend too much time with him – which didn’t make any sense.
Dean sighed and got back to work.
About an hour later, Dick Roman came strolling out the office, looking as self-assured as ever but not nearly as satisfied as Dean had thought he would be.
He stormed past his desk without even saying goodbye, which was highly unusual –
“Dean” came Crowley’s voice from the speaker, “Come here, please.”
That… didn’t sound like his usual commanding tone at all.
He moved fast in case his boss was angry. “Yeah, sir?”
“Contact my attorney please, I want our contracts with Roman thoroughly investigated.”
Dean nodded, wondering what had brought this on. “Calling him right now.”
“Also, bring me tea with honey, please” he said, once more reminding Dean of his British roots, even though he was somewhat shocked at the “please”.
He nodded and turned around. Just before the door closed behind him, Crowley said, “I appreciate your loyalty.”
Damn it, he realized, he must have left the speaker on when Roman came in. Crowley had heard the man’s offer.
Surely he hadn’t been short with him because of that, though?
Dean really tried his best not to think about it, but he didn’t quite succeed.
Chapter Text
As the driver brought him home that night, Crowley would have liked to be able to say he had only been hard on Dick Roman for business reasons, but he knew better than to lie to himself.
Dean had left the speaker on; now and then it just happened, and he had ceased to be bothered by it a long time ago. All he heard was typing, phone calls and Dean muttering now and then.
This time around however, he did hear something interesting.
“You’re really very talented Mr. Winchester, and it is a waste to still work for the son of a bitch when I’d be willing to offer –“
“Like I said” Dean stated, apparently unfazed, “He’s waiting.”
Dick Roman was notorious for recruiting important employees and using their knowledge of his business partner’s work to gain. He was also known to pay them a lot.
And yet Dean had just not only shown no interest, but made it clear where his priorities lay, without even properly addressing the offer.
Crowley didn’t think any of his other employees would have been so... loyal.
He got up. There was no reason to subject Dean to Roman’s presence for longer than necessary.
Normally he would never have welcomed a guest at the door – he preferred it when people came to him – but this was different, although he later wouldn’t be able to voice exactly why.
“Mr. Roman” he began as soon as they were seated, “It has been a while”.
“It has indeed Fergus.”
From the first, he had called Crowley by the name he detested. As always, he was careful not to react.
“Now, speaking of your proposal...”
“I am certain we could get it through” he said evenly.”While it would make us the biggest – “
“It would also ruin the existence of many of our smaller competitors, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, but that only makes things easier for us, doesn’t it?” Roman grinned in that slimy way of his Crowley had always found abhorrent.
“In a way” he admitted. But then, on the other hand, the economy might suffer, and he knew from experience that his firm would suffer than as well.
At least that was how he explained to himself not agreeing with Roman immediately and instead sending him on his way after a fruitless hour of discussions, having decided to have their present contracts checked to see if they might be able to get out of them.
Dean was as efficient as always when Crowley asked for his attorney to be contacted, and for a cup of tea. Come to think of it, he was the only one who had ever brought him tea the way he liked it.
When he brought him the cup, their fingers brushed. Crowley did not linger on how soft and warm Dean’s hands felt.
If he had been forced to describe his day until the moment he got home, it would have been “annoying”. Only when he went to open the door of his house did it turn disconcerting instead.
While he had a knocker on his door for aesthetic purposes, no one had ever used it; and Crowley had gotten so used to the sight he barely paid attention to it.
Usually.
Because this evening, the knocker bore his late mother’s face.
Crowley stared and blinked, but it didn’t change.
He threw the door open with more force than necessary. “Humbug” he muttered to himself, “You must have worked too hard, that is all.”
Of course it wasn’t. It was highly discouraging that even after she had finally passed, the sight of his mother’s face was still enough to upset him.
Not content with making his childhood miserable, she’d always been happy to storm into both his house and his company whenever she wanted to berate or embarrass him. Dean would not have been one of those who would have allowed her in, he was sure; he would have denied her entry to his office.
He’d really been lucky to acquire a secretary like Dean Winchester; the thought came unbidden and rather startled Crowley, who usually avoided thinking of others altogether as long as they didn’t serve a present purpose.
And Dean – yes, he was an excellent secretary, and loyal, as he had learned today; and he was getting along well with his son, not that this was in any way important...
He decided to get a large glass of Craig and go to bed before he got overly sentimental.
And that would normally have been the end of his day, only that things did not quite turn out the way he had expected.
He woke up at midnight, according to his alarm, by an only too well-known voice saying “Told them you were a lost cause, Fergus.”
He shot up in bed. “Mother?”
Chapter Text
His first reaction was the all too familiar surge of fear he’d never been able to conquer, not even as a successful business man. His second was to actually stop and think.
He got up.
“Fergus, are you ignoring me!?” she screeched as he walked past her.
“On the contrary, I am going to get an aspirin. You are obviously just a figment of my imagination... the cheese I had for dinner must have gone bad.”
“Cheese? You really think I am nothing but a bad piece of cheese?”
He would have highly preferred that to his mother coming to visit him, but he didn’t voice the thought. He didn’t have to.
The door of his bedroom slammed shut before he could reach out and he turned around to face her, eyes ablaze. “You will listen to me!”
“And what if I don’t? You end up killing me after all?” he asked tiredly. It was the middle of the night, he just wanted to get some rest, and his mother was supposed to be gone.
“No, you end up like this.”
Even Crowley couldn’t help but take a few steps backward when the vision in front of him transformed, Rowena’s skin melting away to reveal a rotting corpse dragged down by chains.
In the blink of an eye, she looked as Crowley had known her. “Now, do you see?”
“No, Mother. Indeed I utterly fail to see how a hallucination – “
“Would a hallucination do this?”
As she walked towards him, Crowley, disgusted at his own weakness, kept moving until his back hit the door. He didn’t want her anywhere near him.
“Oh Crowley” she sighed, “I should never have done all of that to you.”
And for the first time he could remember, she cradled his face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, my wee barn.”
His mother would never have done this, and he wrenched out of her grip. She looked at him with sad eyes.
“If anything,. You just proved that you have to be a hallucination.”
“It would seem that way, wouldn’t I. But believe me, I have done my penance. I have lived through every single atrocity I committed time and time again. I have watched myself be treated abominably and abusing you in return as if this would somehow make it all better. And now I don’t have the chance to make things right. I am doomed to travel upon the wings of the wind forever. I have sat so often next to you in your office, I’ve lost count.”
That was by no means a pleasant thought.
“I have seen you continue your work, and I’ve also seen your employees... one in particular. Dean, I believe? He’s very handsome.”
“Stop drooling, Mother. You are dead.”
She raised her eyebrow. “I’m afraid you missed my point.”
“I am missing the entire point of you visiting, to be frank.”
Rowena sighed. “I showed you my true face. The same fate awaits you.”
“For what? What have I done?”
“Have you ever cared for you fellow humans? Have you ever considered actually looking after your son? Have you ever tried to make the world a better place?”
“No, and I don’t have to. There are quite enough people who are attempting to do so” he said simply.
Rowena shook her head. “Your greed and your disinterest in the world at large have brought you nothing even akin to happiness.”
Happiness? He had always considered happiness overrated. What was there in happiness? He would rather walk around with open eyes and see the world for the mess it was, rather than chase an imaginary idea.
“No matter what you think of it, I have been given the opportunity to help you. It’s too late for me, it doesn’t have to be for you.”
He rolled his eyes. “I assure you I am quite content...”
“You will be visited by three ghosts” she announced, not listening to him.
“What?”
“You will be – “
“I understood, but forgive me if I do not see the appeal after seeing you.”
“They will teach you. They will show you. And they will hopefully lead you down the right path.”
He had no idea what she was talking about.
“The first will visit you at midnight tomorrow, the next at one o’ clock the day after, and the third on the next day at three am.”
“Mother, if you could be so kind, I would like to see them all at the same time. It would make much less of –“
“Sorry, Crowley, but this is how things have to be. You won’t see me again, but rest assured that I am utterly sorry for what I did to you, and that I wish you all the best. Goodbye.”
With these words, his mother was gone.
Crowley stared at the spot she had vanished from, wondering if he was finally going insane.
Chapter Text
Naturally, despite his best attempts (including several more glasses of Craig) Crowley slept poorly after his mother had vanished.
It hadn’t really been his mother, naturally; he didn’t believe in ghosts, and if she had returned, she would have cared so much to try and “redeem” him. No, it must have been a hallucination or a bad dream.
He still got up with a headache; by the time he arrived at his office, he felt he should have stayed at home, despite not having missed a day at work in the last twenty years.
“Good morning” Dean greeted him brightly. He didn’t answer.
Only to feel bad about it ten minutes later when Dean entered his office with tea and biscuits.
Tea with honey, of course.
“Thank you” he said, despite not feeling hungry in the least.
“No problem. Shall I push back your ten o’ clock meeting to eleven?”
Normally he avoided changing his hours at all costs, but he could really need it today. “Yes, please.”
Dean nodded. “Gavin called just after you arrived, I told him to wait.”
He really was the perfect secretary. Efficient, clever, and he knew when not to push his buttons. Crowley simply nodded, hoping it would be answer enough. It seemed to be, for Dean nodded back with a small smile on his lips that looked entirely too handsome on his young (so very young, even though he was in his mid-thirties) face.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Once he had closed the door behind him, Crowley suddenly remembered what his mother – no, a hallucination, a dream, anything but his real mother – had told him.
“I have seen you continue your work, and I’ve also seen your employees... one in particular. Dean, I believe? He’s very handsome.”
“I’m afraid you missed my point.”
Had she –had she meant that – had she alluded to –
He had made it a firm rule early in his career that he would never sleep with someone he worked with. It was unprofessional, and created nothing but problems. It was better to search for his pleasure in his free time.
And he wasn’t interested in Dean. Sure, he was handsome, single and friendly, but that certainly wasn’t enough to make him –
And even if he were... surely Dean would never look at him this way. Crowley was his boss, and he wasn’t particularly pleasant to be around, according to most people. Hell, his own mother had assured him of that many times before she had died, so why would –
And why was he even wondering about that to begin with? There was no way he and Dean could ever become more than employer and employee. Worrying about a non-existent relationship was just wasting time that could have much more productive uses than that.
He forced himself to concentrate on the files in front of him. Unchanging. Predictable. Save.
Dean always knew when his boss had had a rough night.
That said, Crowley looked particularly bad this morning, far worse than a hangover could explain. HE didn’t answer Dean’s cheerful greeting, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.
Just after he’d disappeared into his office, Dean’s phone rang. “Crowley Inc., Dean Winchester.”
“Hi Dean!”
“Hello Gavin.
“I was wondering if today would be the right day for another attack on the curmudgeon.”
Dean had no idea when he had joined Gavin’s operation to make Crowley see sense concerning his family, but seeing as his own had been through Hell and back, he couldn’t help but understand him.
“No. Not today. If you ask me, that would be a pretty bad idea.”
“Is everything alright?” Gavin sounded honestly concerned, and Dean had little reason to doubt that he was. The guy just wanted to get along with his father, and he could empathize with that. A lot.
“Yeah, I just think he didn’t sleep well, and that always makes him grumpy.”
“I’m glad he has you to look after him.”
Dean was slightly taken aback; Gavin had been alluding to his helpless crush on his hot but sadly unavailable employer for a while now, only that he seemed to think Dean actually had a shot, which was as strange as it was laughable.
Surely someone like Fergus Crowley had better options, if he ever decided he needed a partner at all. Dean’s first impression had been that he enjoyed being on his own, and that had not changed during the last two years.
“Just doing my best. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to approach him.”
“Thank you”.
They hung up and Dean quickly made tea and fetched a few biscuits. Crowley certainly hadn’t had breakfast, and he needed to eat something.
He told himself he was doping it just because Crowley had complimented his loyalty the day before.
He didn’t quite believe himself.
Chapter Text
His day passed much more pleasantly than he had anticipated, Dean making sure no one too annoying came his way. By the time he arrived home, he was almost relaxed.
Almost.
He couldn’t forget that his mother had warned him about the visit of a –
It was ridiculous, of course. Ghosts didn’t exist. There was no reason to think one of them would visit him.
Really, it was all rather… Dickensian, now that he thought about it.
But he was determined to no longer dwell on the matter, so he poured himself a glass of Craig and relaxed on his couch.
Unbidden, thoughts of Dean started to intrude his mind. Of course this was another ridiculous consequence of the comment his mother had made –
No, not his mother. He had to finally get it through his head that he had not been talking to Rowena last night.
There was a good reason he hadn’t thought much of her in the past seven years. It was also part of the reason why he had always kept away from Gavin. God knew someone like him should rather stay away from children, especially his own.
It was the dumbest decision he’d ever made in his life, but he took out his phone.
Do you believe in ghosts?
He had sent the text to his secretary before he’d realized what he was doing.
The answer came promptly.
No, I’m afraid, but I can always ask experts, if you want to.
As always, clever, efficient, and ready to do whatever it took to fulfil his requests.
No, thank you. It was a private enquiry.
It was the first time he had ever used the word “private” in connection to Dean Winchester, and he swore to himself right there and then that it would be the last. He couldn’t afford to get… attached. Employees left.
And yet Dean didn’t when he was given the chance, a traitorous voice in his head whispered.
His text alert rang out.
In that case, no I don’t, but some of those stories floating around are pretty terrifying. Also, I have a Ghostbusters uniform from the last con I went to, if you need it.
Crowley stared at the text. He hadn’t known Dean went to conventions – then again, he knew precious little of his private life. He was aware there was a younger brother, and a mother, he believed; but other than that –
He shook his head, trying to get the image of Dean in a Ghostbusters costume out of his mind.
I hardly believe it will be necessary to bust any ghosts, but I will let you know when I need you.
Belatedly, he realized he had typed when instead of if. Stupid of him. He didn’t need anyone. Never had, never would.
Alright then, I will keep it at hand, just in case.
Crowley hadn’t expected a reply like that. It sounded downright… flirty. Dean’s behaviour was impeccable during work hours, and they had never socialized in their free time, so he had no idea if this was significant or not –
Of course it wasn’t. He was just a little shaken by his hallucination. This meant nothing.
He still thought it only polite to send Dean good night, and got the same in return.
It was fitting to say he hadn’t expected that.
One of the first things Dean had learned about Crowley when he started out was that he didn’t like banter, especially between himself and his employees, and he had always been careful to avoid it.
And this wasn’t even banter. If Dean had dared, he would have called it flirting.
Although it was a little weird his boss would wonder whether he believed in ghosts. Maybe the stress was getting to him? But then Crowley had never suffered much because of work, at least not as far as Dean knew.
“Dean, what are you doing?”
He sighed as he turned around and smiled. “Nothing, Mom. Juts a text from my boss, is all.”
She giggled. “You don’t have a boss yet, you’re a child.”
“Of course” he replied tiredly.
Dealing with his mother’s illness had caused his father to drink himself to death, and Dean was sometimes tempted to follow his example; but what could he do? Sam had gone on to better things, as he always knew he would, and there was no one else to care for her.
“How about a snack before bed?” he asked brightly.
He would have liked to pretend to himself that he didn’t fall asleep faster than he usually did after that, but he never got the chance.
There were more pressing matters at hand.
At midnight, he was woken up by a voice saying, “You better wake up Mister, there is something important you need to learn.”
Chapter Text
He stared at his visitor. A young blonde girl with a shining aura around her.
No. Not completely young.
He had never seen eyes that old in his life.
“What –“
“Your mother explained everything, didn’t she? It’s time the lessons start.”
“Thank you, but I have a busy day ahead tomorrow and I am not interested in – “
“I don’t think you understand, Mister. You are coming with me whether you want it or not. Do you wish me to use force?”
He was about to say that he hardly thought she could use force on someone like him when he was thrown out of the bed.
She chuckled. “That was fun, but come on, get over yourself. Things to do, people to see.”
He had little choice but to follow her, and he felt that pointing out he was still in his pyjamas would be rather useless.
He would never know how, but in the blink of an eye, he found himself in front of the house he’d grown up in. “Thank you, but I cannot think – “
“You are not getting out of this, big boy. You first.”
He had sold the house as soon as she had been six feet under, and had no intention of ever returning to this place. “Why are we – “
He stopped talking when she raised her hand. “Come with me.”
As they walked up the stairs and down the hallway, he couldn’t help but notice that the place... hadn’t changed. At all. It looked exactly as it had when he had been a c –
He learned why when they passed through the door to his old room (literally. They didn’t have to open it).
There he was, as he had been when he’d been around two years old, crying silently, already knowing no one was going to come for him. Mother had not seen it necessary to get up at night for a child she hadn’t really wanted.
“Aw, you were cute. Poor little guy.”
Crowley rolled his eyes. “When are we, anyway?”
“Christmas time.”
“You could have shown me any other day. It wouldn’t matter.”
“Of course it does.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s Christmas.”
“I’m telling you – “
She waved her hand and they stood in his mother’s bedroom. Crowley resisted the urge to take a few steps back, but only barely.
“Man, she really did a number on you” the... apparition said, her eyes looking older than ever.
“I am over it” he snapped.
“So you worked through your issues with a therapist? Nice to know.”
“I’m not...” he trailed off.
“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying you are damaged. I won’t pretend Rowena was a good mother. That’s not why we’re here.”
“Then what is the point?”
“Look –“ She pointed at his mother. She was busy... wrapping a book?
Crowley walked up to her, shocked when he saw the title.
Grimm’s fairytales. He’d had that book for as long as he could remember, and had always assumed that some well-meaning neighbour or kindergarten teacher must have given it to him at some point. When he had been little, it had helped him get through countless idle hours, since he wasn’t allowed to play with other children; at night, when he had been afraid, it had been his safety blanket, and he had never entertained the possibility that it could have been a Christmas present from his mother of all people.
“What are you showing me this for?” he asked calmly.
“To make you remember that not everything was as awful as you remember it to me. She was a piece of work... but she loved you, in her own way.”
HE snorted. “Right. That’s why she let me know at every opportunity that I was conceived during an orgy and that she should have gotten rid of me! That’s why she left me alone and never allowed me to make friends! That’s why as soon as I went to college, she turned my room into a gym for herself alone!” He broke off, breathing heavily. There was a reason he never thought of her for too long.
“I’m sorry” the blonde girl said and somehow, Crowley had the feeling that she meant it. Which wasn’t possible, naturally, since this was just a continuation of his hallucination the night before, and didn’t mean anything.
She snapped her fingers. The picture in front of them changed.
He was now about eight years old, and reading his Grimm fairytales. Again alone. Always alone.
“You never knew where your mother went that day, did you?”
Another snap.
“My old school” Crowley said, recognizing the building immediately. She nodded.
“We’re going to the principal’s office.”
And then, they were there.
“Listen to me, you will let me wee son into your advanced program; he’s clever and he will get far!”
Crowley stared at his mother as she insisted on him being given the opportunity to learn better.
“Like I said” the ghost stated softly, “Humans... they are a messy bunch.”
Chapter Text
“So what, you show me my mother cared for me and you expect me to turn into your version of nice?” he asked as calmly as he could. He hated that his mother’s sight was still enough to make him feel shaky and scared, that over fifty years on this earth hadn’t been enough to get rid of this weakness.
Suddenly, the ghost gripped is arm softly. “No: This is just to show you that sometimes, people are more complicated than you think.”
“I already knew that.”
She shook her head. “You built a wall around your heart, and – “
“Oh dear God, what is this? A lifetime movie?”
She sighed. “I should have known this wouldn’t be easy. But there’s more to show you.”
Another Christmas. Crowley was really growing tired of having his bad holidays getting shoved down his throat again and again; especially when he recognized himself on the street.
How well he remembered this year.
He was about nineteen years old, and his mother had forced him to return “home” or at least what she called “home” for Christmas.
He was walking down the street, lost in thought, when suddenly a little boy crushed into him. He couldn’t be more than five years old, and not even his teenage self could scowl at him when he started to apologize. “So sorry, Mister! I didn’t mean to! Mommy and I are looking at tbhe Christmas decorations – you know, but we have to be careful because my little brother’s not here yet and – “
“Dean” a woman chastised him gently and Crowley realized he was looking at his secretary.
HE had completely forgotten about their meeting; and even if he had remembered it, he wouldn’t have made the connection; but now – those eyes, that boyish grin – yes, that was Dean Winchester, there could be no doubt about it.
“We’re really sorry” the blonde woman who could only be Dean’s mother told him. “He didn’t mean to – “
“It’s quite alright” he replied, obviously taken aback by her kindness, and watched them go as the child happily skipped in front of the woman shouting about Christmas.
“I had no idea –“ he began, then broke off.
He didn’t know what he had wanted to say.
She smiled. “He’s cute. Stayed that way, from what I hear.”
Crowley shrugged. “He is an excellent secretary.”
“He’s an... well, I have my work cut out for me, I can see that. Oh well. Remember this particular Christmas after your encounter with a certain green-eyed cutie?”
He shrugged; once he had reached the age of thirty, things like birthdays and holidays had seemed to melt together in his mind.
She snapped her fingers. He was coming to hate the sound.
Then they were back at his old house, Rowena and he having dinner.
“And how are you doing in college, Fergus?”
Since she had died, no one had called him by his first name. He had made sure of that.
“I told you Mother, everything’s going well.”
So far, everything was as he had remembered it for years. But then –
“Have you found any friends?” she asked, sounding somewhat softer than usual.
“Friends? I am not interested in that sort of thing, as you well know.”
“Maybe you should be.”
He remembered it, now; yes, his mother had asked him that all those years ago, but he had always thought that she had wanted to mock him for his lack of social interaction. But now, he thought she looked almost... sorry.
It was a strange thought, that his mother might have been sorry for what she had done to him over the years. It didn’t make up for what he had gone through, of course; but it was sztrangely... comforting.
“And then of course there was the Christmas were everything changed, two years ago” the ghost said brightly.
“What is supposed to have – “
They were suddenly standing in Dean’s office. Christmas two years ago... he’d only been working for Crowley for a month, then, explaining why he still looked a little nervous.
His cell phone rang and he hastened to answer it, throwing a worried glance towards Crowley’s door. Well, he had never begrudged people using their private phones to make calls; forbidding it would only have caused a bad working environment.
“Hi Mom” he said brightly. Too brightly. Crowley knew how Dean sounded when he was truly relaxed and enjoying himself (although until now he had not known he had ever paid attention to that) and this wasn’t it.
“What’s wrong with – “
“It’s not my place to show you” she said simply. “That’s not why we’re here.”
Dean was now talking, no, consoling his mother, telling her “they” couldn’t reach him at work.
Crowley raised an eyebrow.
“Ah, that’s why we’re here. Showtime” the ghost said.
Chapter Text
Once Dean had hung up, the door opened and Becky from Human Resources came in. Crowley knew she and Dean knew each other rather well, and that they worked together well.
“Hi Dean! Just wanted to give you this!” she grinned as she handed him a pie.
“Thank you! This is awesome!” Dean’s grin fell. “So sorry I don’t have anything for you, but life has been stressful lately – “
Come to think of it, there had been several times over the course of the last two years that Crowley had wondered whether Dean was stressed. On the bad days, he carried himself differently, a defeated slump in his shoulders, his eyes slightly dimmed; maybe he had problems at home? But he’d never mentioned a partner, and his file said he was single...
“Like I said, all in good time” the ghost explained, “For now, watch.”
Dean was apparently contemplating whether he should have a slice of pie now or later – Crowley refused to think he looked cute – when the speaker cackled. “Dean, I need the Simmons file.”
Dean flinched in sympathy. Crowley grimaced. Simmons. How he had hated doing business with her. It was Dean who had persuaded him in the new year after this Christmas that they really didn’t need a client that routinely pissed them both off, especially because he’d rounded up the numbers to probe they would do well enough without her.
In the moment he was watching however, she was still very much a client and Dean sighed as he went to grab the thick file.
It was rather strange to follow Dean and see himself sitting at his desk, although he would admit he was a nice sight.
“Here, the file” Dean said. “Anything I can help you with?”
“No, she just demands a report on the numbers of last year” Crowley muttered, “Never mind that I have explained to her that it’s not usual and – “
“Alright. Anything else?” Dean asked, professional, calm. Crowley recalled the scene. He had already been on edge because of all the forced Christmas cheer being thrown around him, like very year, and Dean’s demeanour had helped greatly.
“No, thank you.” Crowley grabbed the file, frowning.
Dean nodded and left, but not for long.
Crowley remembered what had followed of course, but it was interesting to see it from Dean’s angle, to say the least.
He looked at the pie standing on his desk once more, than back at his door; je repeated this a few more times, then came to a decision.
He called in Garth, his usual replacement when he was away from his desk for longer than five minutes. “I won’t be gone long, and I don’t think he’ll want me, but could you stay here until I get back? He’s a bit nervous today.”
Nervous? Most of his other employees would have described him as him being his usual self, Crowley would have been ready to bet; but Dean had always seen through him, right from the start.
It might have been one of his reasons for hiring him in the first place, but it also unnerved him slightly.
Dean wasn’t gone long anyway; not fifteen minutes later he was back with a bag in his hands. “Thanks, Garth.”
“No problem, you were right; didn’t hear a peep from him. You look after the boss, okay?”
Crowley had known there was a reason he liked Garth Fitzgerald IV, as much as it was possible for him to like anyone.
Despite his memories, he was surprised at what he saw.
The honey Dean pulled from the bag was one of the most expensive ones; he had it at home, naturally, but he had never thought it prudent to waste it on his office hours. And Dean could hardly have used company money to pay for it.
Then, Dean prepared his tea, exactly as he liked it, as he had from the very first day on the job, carefully adding exactly one spoonful of honey. Then, he cut a piece of pie and made his way to Crowley’s office.
“Sorry Mr. Crowley, I thought you might like some tea and pie to work through the file.”
He watched himself look up. “You just happened to bring pie with you today?”
The last person Crowley would have thought to be able of surprising him was he himself; but his expression when he looked at Dean...
Had he been flirting with his secretary all this time without noticing it?
Dean mumbled something along the line of “coincidence” then added, “Also got you some tea with honey.”
“Thank you, Dean.”
“My pleasure.”
He smiled happily as he put the plate and cup down in front of him. “Should I reschedule your five o’ clock for tomorrow?”
“That would be for the best, I’d say” he replied, and Dean left.
Crowley felt lighter, watching him go – both of them.
“Do you understand now?”
“I am sorry, but I have no idea what you are talking about.”
She sighed. “Good, then. Let’s check out last year’s celebrations.”
Chapter Text
Last year? He couldn’t remember anything specific about last year’s Christmas – he had been working, naturally, and he had any employee he asked the time off regardless because he knew what they wished for and saw no harm in letting them –
“You really don’t notice how a little care goes a long way, right?”
Again they were standing in Dean’s office. Dean was talking on his phone. “No, Sammy, I get it – it is important that you meet Eileen’s family. We’ll be fine, I promise. Me and Mom will just have a relaxing Christmas.”
There was something about the way he said “relaxing” that Crowley didn’t like one bit.
As Dean sat the phone down and sighed, he looked years older, and he didn’t care for that detail much either.
The speaker cackled. “Dean?”
Dean took a deep breath, forced himself visibly to relax and went to his office.
“The Barker bills – “
“Have been dealt with, sir” Dean said calmly, and Crowley remembered it now as his past self raised his head to stare at Dean. He always recalled perfectly, feeling somewhat guilty, what it had led to.
It had indeed been rather unusual for his secretary to address him so... properly; and just as he done then, he watched himself study Dean, trying to understand.
Dean smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Did you need anything else?”
“No, thank you.”
Dean nodded and turned to leave.
Crowley watched himself contemplate what to do and make a decision. He cleared his throat. “Dean, if you need more time off for the holidays, it is of course possible... I know you and your brother – “
“My brother’s spending Christmas with his girlfriend’s family this year. I have quite enough free time, thank you.”
With that, he left, and Crowley soon afterwards picked up his phone, calling HR.
“Rebecca?”
She insisted everyone call her Becky, but Crowley always preferred using his staff’s proper names. “Could you please bring me Dean’s personal file? He’s not in any trouble, just some data I have to check... No, no reason to tell him, like I said, everything’s going fine...”
Naturally she had been concerned, with the many secretaries he had gone through in the past few years.
They returned to Dean’s office just the moment Becky arrived, having chosen to hide his files among a few others.
“Hey Becky.”
“Dean! How are you?”
Her smile was bright and genuine. Small wonder; most of his employees liked Dean.
“I’m good Becky.”
Her face fell; she undoubtedly connected his subdued demeanour and the file in her hands. “You sure?”
“Yeah, yeah; a bit bummed that my brother won’t be coming for Christmas, that’s all.”
She nodded, then lowered her voice. “And your mother? How is she?”
Crowley had no idea why she should ask the question so quietly, or why Dean would just shake his head lightly.
“She’s fine.”
Becky nodded. “Glad to hear it.”
It was clear she didn’t believe him, but against her usual habits, she didn’t pry, and Crowley found himself oddly thankful for it.
She stepped into his office. “Mr. Crowley, the file you asked for.”
“Thank you, Rebecca. Again” he added when he saw her hesitate, “Dean is the best secretary I ever had. You don’t have to worry about it.”
She smiled somewhat relieved and left.
Crowley winced as he watched himself carefully go through the file, looking for a reason Dean should be acting so strangely.
“You don’t have to show me what I did next” he said tiredly.
The file was still where he and kept it from that day on – the special drawer in his desk only he had a key to.
Chapter Text
“What exactly do you wish to prove with all of this?” he asked, slightly irritated. To be honest, he had always felt slightly guilty that he took a look at Dean’s personal file from time to time; ridiculous, of course, he was his boss, eh could do what he wanted; but sadly he was all too aware that he wasn’t exactly moved by worries about his work performance –
“The penny still hasn’t dropped, I see” she said. “Oh well. The others will make sure you get it.”
“Again, with the other ghosts – I’d rather not” he said firmly, but she shook her head.
“It’s non-negotiable, I’m afraid. Or do you want to end up like your mother?”
He wished with all his non-existing heart that he wouldn’t care, but he did. “Is there no way to help her?”
For the first time, she smiled at him. “I have to admit, I wasn’t sure whether you would ask or not.”
Apparently it had been some kind of test, he thought, annoyed at being a ghost’s plaything.
“It wasn’t” she said simply, “but it is nice to find some form of compassion in that cold heart of yours.”
“Just like hers” he snapped.
“I am not saying she wasn’t a horrible mother. That’s what I meant with compassion. I am just glad. And I shouldn’t tell you, but... yes. You listening to us? That’s her last chance.”
Crowley suddenly fought two simultaneous urges; the one to insist that no other ghosts visit him under any circumstances, and his acquiescence for exactly that happening.
If such a situation had taken place at work, he would have called Dean; after listening, his secretary usually had well-thought out suggestions to make; but sadly he could hardly call him at this time of the night and ask for advice how to handle the ghost of his mother and the other visits she had brought him.
“I think – yes” the ghost said. “We’re at the end. Too bad; I’m sure there were a few other fun ideas I could have come up with.”
For some reason, he had the feeling that she was only teasing him. It was all so bloody confusing; first she berated him, then she showed him his past, now she was treating him nicely for some reason.
He felt inexplicably tired; perhaps because he had missed several hours of sleep already – it must have been hours since she woke him up, certainly?
Suddenly, they were back in his bedroom, but Crowley couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed sleep.
“What’s your name?” he asked drowsily, for no other reason than the question suddenly came to mind.
She helped him to bed and hesitated; he was almost asleep when he heard her answer, “Claire. And I’m sorry for what’s coming next.”
“I have time to prepare myself, don’t I?” he asked. “Mother said they are going to come tomorrow night.”
“I am afraid it won’t be that easy“ were the last words he heard before he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Text
When he woke up, it was still dark outside, confusing him. Surely everything he had seen would have made the time pass? Then again, he couldn’t quite believe what had happened, even now; for all he knew, he’d eaten something that didn’t agree with him, and now he had to live with strange visions of young women trying to show him that people were not as despicable as he had always believed them to be.
He went up and walked to the window. He’d been right. It was night, still night –
Midnight, to be exact, if his alarm could be believed.
And there was a light coming from – from his living room. He certainly hadn’t kept anything on when he had gone to bed; he hadn’t been that out of sorts.
What he found surprised him. It seemed to be the common theme with these visits.
Before he could fully grasp what he was seeing, a deep voice called out,” Come in and know me better, man!”
The whole room had been decorated with enough Christmas cheer that even Dean would have approved; there was a wreath about the fireplace, a Christmas tree glittered in a corner, and the table was full of sweets.
“What is all this?” he demanded, stepping up to him.
“The milk of human kindness you could call it” the voice told him and he finally turned around to find a bearded man grinning at him. “Not that you would know much about that, would you.”
HE shrugged. “kindness would hardly have helped my business.”
“Of course it wouldn’t have. But don’t worry, I’m here to – “
“First of all, who are you, and second of all, do we really have to go through this?”
A tiny voice in his mind reminded him that this was supposed to be his mother’s last chance and that he couldn’t just let her spook around until the end of time. He shoved it away.
“Still so reluctant? Oh well, I’ll soon take away any – “
“And who do you happen to be exactly?” he asked.
“The Ghost of Christmas Present, but you may call me Cain.”
“I hope you understand why that name doesn’t inspire confidence.”
Cain laughed. “I have heard that often enough. Now, will you come with me or do I have to use force?”
Crowley would much rather have stayed at his home, so he tried one of his usual tactics: bargaining.
“But what’s all this even for?” he argued, waving his hands around.
Cain looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“This whole setup. No one but me is ever going to see it, and I hardly appreciate it, as it happens to be; so why go through all this trouble? Why even care about my soul being saved? I’m not exactly – “
He stopped abruptly.
“It’s not just your soul, Crowley. There are people you mean a lot to.”
He snorted.
“It’s true, and I am going to prove it.”
“Alright” he said, feeling defeated, “Start then. Go ahead.”
“Mmh, where to tart, that is the question” he mused. “Oh, I know.”
Cain raised his torch, and suddenly they were at the Christmas party he allowed every year since he considered it good for morale.
“He won’t show, won’t he?” Garth asked Rebecca. She shrugged her shoulders.
“Guess not. But you know, there’s someone who would like to see him” she said with a shrewd look.
Garth winced. “Really hope you don’t mean who I think you mean. He could have better.”
“It’s not about what he gets, but what he wants. And considering his family situation – “
“Hi guys.”
Crowley found that he had utterly underestimated the joys of office Christmas parties when he saw Dean Winchester in a suit.
“You enjoying yourselves?”
They both nodded. “How are you?”
Dean shuffled his feet and Becky elbowed Garth to the side to make him stop asking.
“I’m alright. You know me.”
“So tonight...” Becky began softly. Dean nodded.
“Got a babysitter, so to speak. Don’t worry.”
If Dean had had children, Crowley would have known it. What was he talking about?
“Boss could really pay you more” Garth remarked. “Would make things easier.”
Dean shook his head. “I assure you, my salary is perfectly adequate. And guy has enough to do as it is.”
“Come on, he is the boss, he can do what he wants.”
“Yes, but all he does is working” Dean argued. “He really needs a break.”
And for the first time, Crowley realized that Dean actually cared about him.
“About time the penny dropped. Just one question: how long were you going to watch him tear himself apart for you before you realized?”
He ignored Cain.
“Dean” Becky said softly, “You know –“
He shook his head. “Trust me, I do. Let’s go get drinks.”
They left and Cain threw him a glance.
If only Crowley had understood what it meant.
Chapter Text
Crowley was still shaking off the dizziness that always came with being transported like that (one would have thought that, if ghosts wanted to teach people something, they would at least take care of that problem) when he heard Dean’s laughter.
He knew immediately something was wrong – to his own surprise. Of course he had heard Dean laughing before, carelessly, joyfully, cynically – it just came with the job; but this didn’t sound genuine at all.
“What – “
He looked around. They were standing in yet another living room, comfortably furnished and well lived in, and yet, despite the Christmas decorations, Crowley couldn’t help but feel a bit apprehensive. Maybe it was Dean’s laugh; maybe it was something else.
“What’s going on – “
“Watch and learn” Cain said simply.
He probably would never give him a straight answer, Crowley would just have to live with that.
He was just looking at the Christmas tree in the corner – something about the colour scheme seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it – when Dean came in, talking on the phone. “I am telling you Sam, we’re fine. It’s one of the good days.”
He listened to whatever the brother Crowley had never met had to say, then laughed again.
Crowley was ready to bet Sam wasn’t fooled either; if he was able to tell, surely –
“Yes. Everything is alright. Enjoy your Christmas, alright?”
“They already didn’t spend last Christmas together” Crowley said, “Why – “
“Work. He has a big case, and so he and his girlfriend couldn’t leave California” Cain said. “They’ll be there for New Years, though.”
“Good” Crowley answered, unsure why he felt pleased that Dean would soon be visited by his family. What was it to Crowley whether his secretary was happy this holiday season or not?
Cain sighed. “You are so deep in denial it’s not even funny.”
“What do you mean – “
“Dean!” a voice rang out. Crowley thought it sounded vaguely familiar.
He knew why when the blonde woman he had seen not long ago taking Dean as a toddler for a walk entered the room.
There was something wrong with her, he sensed that immediately. There was a certain weird look in her eyes, and she was a bit on the thin side.
“Oh. There you are”. She was strangely relieved to see her son.
“Yeah, Mom, I was just talking to Sammy on the phone.”
“Is he getting better?”
“Yes, Mom” Dean answered with an expression that made clear he had said these words far too often. Crowley frowned. If something was the matter with his brother, Dean could always ask for time off; he was a demanding boos, but he wasn’t so bad an employer that he wouldn’t let people off for family emergencies...
“And you killed the demon?” she asked as if it was a normal thing to inquire about and things suddenly made a lot more sense.
“A mental illness” he breathed. Cain nodded.
“It started soon after she had her second son. She started to believe that there were demons after him, then that he was... tainted somehow. Dean shielded him from all of that.”
“Dean? What about their father?”
“John Winchester took refuge in a bottle and never quite climbed out again.”
“So this is what Dean comes home to ever day?” Crowley asked, his heart sinking.
Say what you want about his mother, at least she had stayed out of his way once he’d been an adult and she had realized what he was capable of.
“Yes.”
“Surely, there are hospitals –“
“You know how expensive good treatment is in this country, right?” Cain asked.
Mrs. Winchester was now babbling to herself about demons, Dean gently shushing her.
“He deserves better” Crowley said without meaning to.
Dean Winchester, his flawless secretary who did a damn good job every day and yet only returned to a crazy mother in the evenings. He really deserved more, a family, a wife –
Now if only Crowley could have understood why the actual thought of him with a girlfriend or wife made him uneasy.
Surely, not even he was that much of a bastard that he enjoyed Dean's suffering.
Chapter Text
“Alright then, let’s see the sites“, Cain said, clapping his hands together.
“But what about Dean?” he asked.
“Oh, he’ll be fine. He always is. At least that’s what you believe every day he comes in with a tortured smile on his face, right?”
For some reason, that rubbed him the wrong way. “What my employees get up to – “
“Yes, yes, I know, now let’s go!”
Cain, Crowley decided, was entirely too enthusiastic about his job.
And yet...
There was something about what they saw. Cain was constantly laughing and waving his torch around, but... after a while Crowley didn’t mind so much.
Even he, it turned out, was not immune to seeing happy people.
And so many people were happy during Christmas time, he soon learned.
After they had passed another child’s party, Cain moved to another door in a state that felt decidedly warmer than Crowley’s own.
“We’re in California” Cain informed him. “Thought you might want to see the in-laws.”
“The in-laws? What do you – “
He had no idea why he recognized the man standing in front of yet another Christmas tree with a stressed expression on his face until he remembered the pictures on Dean’s desk.
“Sam Winchester. Very funny.”
“Just listen. You obviously haven’t understood yet.”
He rolled his eyes. “I am capable of seeing that Dean Winchester is a good man – “
“Oh my, I mean, yes, but very very wrong direction, I am afraid.”
“Are you sure they’ll be okay?” Sam suddenly asked a young dark-haired woman who had entered the room a few moments ago.
She smiled at him, a little sadly.
“I’m sure they will be. And we’ll see them for New Years.”
“It’s just – we already did this last year, and Dean has no one to celebrate with but – “ he sighed. “I miss him, Sarah.”
“I do, too.”
“It would be so much easier if we could convince him to move here with Mom, I’m sure she would settle down eventually. But his job is the one thing that makes him happy, how can I ask him to give it up?”
“He’s certainly dedicated” she said slowly.
Sam sighed. “Not that his crush on his boos helps any.”
For Crowley, the conversation came to a screeching halt after that; he didn’t hear another thing.
Dean... Dean had a crush on him?
Dean liked him?
He was considerably older than him, and a bastard; surely his brother was mistaken? After all, what did he know? They had never met –
“Dear God, you actually didn’t know” Cain said. “I mean, i knew, but – seeing it is... oh my.”
“I’m sure he’s wrong” he said quickly. “Dean wouldn’t – “
“Why? Because God knows you run away from every chance at happiness thrown at you?”
“What – no- I’m not – “
“Sure thing. So Dean moving away to live with his brother and never seeing him again is preferable to you?”
Not at all. In fact, it was the last thing Crowley could possibly want.
He didn’t say so.
Chapter Text
They visited quite a few other festivities after seeing Dean’s brother, although Crowley barely took in anything, still wondering about what he had learned. He wanted – no, he didn’t exactly want to doubt it (which was a topic in an out of itself he’d much rather have avoided) and this was Dean’s brother who thought his secretary fancied him. On the other hand – well, he knew himself. And he knew exactly who he was, and who Dean was, and...
He thought back to what Claire had shown him. Dean looking after him, Dean bringing him tea on his bad days, Dean just – being Dean, making everything better. And he remembered what had taken place just a few short days ago – Dean refusing to take Roman’s offer, Dean once more comforting his son when he’d really had no reason to befriend him in the first place.
Dear God, he suddenly realized, one of the reasons Gavin and Fiona had invited both of them in the first place might well have been that they were trying to act as matchmakers.
Being as distracted as he was, it was probably no small wonder that he only realized Cain had aged before his eyes after they had left a children’s twelfth night party (who knew those were still a thing? He certainly hadn’t).
“You look –“ he stopped talking and sought for a more diplomatic approach. “How long do ghosts live?”
“My life on this earth is very limited. It ends tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“At midnight.”
“But that’s – “ he tried to argue.
Cain just gave him a wry smile. “The Ghost of Christmas present. Little use for me when Christmas is over, wouldn’t you say?”
No, Crowley wouldn’t have. But then, he’d always fought preconceived notions and the path laid out for him.
“Don’t worry; I’ll be fine. As I said, life on this earth isn’t long for me. Doesn’t mean I can’t be... elsewhere. Remember the Ghost of Christmas Past?”
“You’re going to become one of those now?”
Bizarrely, Crowley could imagine him and Claire getting on rather well – if he didn’t laugh too much in her face.
“I am sorry, but I’m not allowed to tell you.”
Fair enough. Crowley wasn’t sure he wanted to hear, anyway, and he had enough to think about.
And yet –
The movement under Cain’s long cloak caught his eye. Maybe he was mistaken? After all he had been wandering after the spirit for what felt like days; surely he would have noticed if he kept any –
Something darted out from under the cloak for just a second and Crowley took a step back-
“What the – was that a claw?”
Cain smiled sadly. “It might as well be a claw for what little flesh is on it, don’t you think?”
He drew it back. Two of the ugliest, dirtiest children Crowley had ever seen stared back at him. He tried to say they looked like fine children, just to pay tribute top convention, but found he couldn’t; the words were stuck in his throat.
“Who – who are they?” he asked.
“The girl is need” Cain said simply, “The boy is ignorance. Trust me, I could do fine without them – but thanks to you humans, they keep following me, clinging to me. I am starting to think I will never be rid of them.”
“But what – “
“Beware both of them, but especially the boy. In all respects – may it be knowledge or feelings.”
Cain looked at him. Crowley avoided his eyes. “Head my words. Do better, man!”
Somewhere, the chimes sounded midnight.
Bright light shown into Crowley’s eyes; he had to look away.
When he turned his head to check on Cain, he was gone.
And with him the two children he’d been told to avoid.
And Crowley himself? He was standing in a dark street he didn’t recognise. It didn’t exactly inspire confidence.
Still, he could do nothing but choosing a direction to walk in and hope it would be the right one.
Well. He’d found his way out of worse situations before, he could deal now. He was Crowley.
Strangely enough, he didn’t pass any street lights on his way. Where was he? It certainly wasn’t the town he’d spent the last few decades building his company up in.
And yet... and yet...
There was something strangely familiar about the place, too.
It was all so bloody confusing.
As he walked down the dark streets, he thought of Dean. His eyes, his freckles, his big heart...
Selfishly, even though he was the last person who should be in a relationship with someone he cared about, he wished Sam was right.
He didn’t know how long he had been walking when he heard a voice.
“So we have finally figured out our wishes? A bit late, don’t you think?”
Chapter Text
He turned around and saw a young black woman studying him.
“Ghost of Christmas Future, I assume?” he asked casually.
“That’s right. Name’s Billie.”
“Crowley.”
“Oh, I know” she smirked. “I also know what’s going to happen to you, so you should pay attention:”
“I don’t have any choice, do I?”
“No, so we should better be on our way.”
“Just for the record, what kind of future are we going to see? The one that will occur because I have learned my lesson like a good little student or the one that was waiting for me? Because I already have a rather good idea what it will look like – “
“Of course you do, but that is not the point of this story.”
“What is, then?”
“Already forgotten everything about our friend Cain, have you?”
He shook his head. “Whether Dean has a crush on me or not, it is not important to my future.”
Even if – he would never act on it. There were rules against that sort of thing, and he might not just lose the best secretary he had ever had, but also the closest thing he had to a friend.
“Oh dear” she sighed. “Let’s go.”
Soon enough, they were standing in front of a decent-looking house.
“When are we?”
Billie was silent: Crowley sighed. “Not supposed to know, then. I get it.”
“Let’s just say, I don’t want you to be spoiled. Get in.”
He wasn’t surprised when he saw his son celebrating Christmas with his friends and family once more. He looked considerably older than the last time he had seen him, one decade at the least; and Crowley realized with a jolt that the kids who were sitting at the table were his own grand-children.
“Merry Christmas!” he toasted them, his grin bright and happy.
“Oh no” Crowley gasped, “They are content”.
Billie glared at him. He winked.
“You really have a thing for ignoring the obvious, haven’t you? Otherwise you’d hardly have been surprised about this secretary of yours.”
“What do you – “
She pointed at the fireplace. There were the usual family snapshots Crowley would have expected; Gavin, Fiona and the children as they grew up; but there was also –
A picture of Crowley himself at his desk, working. What the hell?
The doorbell rang. Gavin grinned. “He’s a bit late today, I’d say. Dean, would you be so kind – “
And Crowley watched who he presumed to be his grandson jump up and race to the door.
“Dean?”
“No reason not to name a child after a good friend, I’d say.”
It was indeed Dean Winchester who came through the door, older but still as stunning as always. Je looked tired and run down, but still smiled happily at them all. “Hi guys.”
A whole chorus of greetings was shouted at him, and soon he was seated among them, the children telling him all about school.
Gavin and Fiona traded nervous glances now and then; Crowley didn’t understand why until his son had the opportunity to draw Dean into a corner. “We’re all really sorry for your loos.”
Dean shrugged. “It feels like I lost her a long time ago. I can’t even feel that sad – whatever that tells you about me.”
“Dean” Gavin frowned. “It’s normal. She was ill. It’s normal for family members to feel relief…”
Dean smirked. “I thought you were never going to “psychology” me, doctor.”
“Still not a verb” Gavin said simply. He reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “What are you going to do now?”
Dean shrugged. “Mom always liked it here best. I think it grounded her to be at home, you know? But now… Sammy has been asking me to move closer to them and the kids. I might just do it.”
Crowley frowned. Surely he hadn’t let Dean go? And it was difficult to imagine that his dedicated secretary would just up and leave like that.
“I mean, it’s not like…” Dean trailed off, his eyes wandering to the fireplace and lingering on the picture.
Gavin smiled sadly. “I wish he hadn’t overworked himself like that. It would have been nice for the kids to know their grandfather.”
Dean looked away, guilty. “If I had paid better attention to him dragging that cold out until – “
“Dean, it wasn’t your fault.”
Dean shrugged. “Yeah, well. Still doesn’t make it easier to lose a job and your mother in a month” he said somewhat bitterly.
“Do you think you’ll have more luck job searching in California?”
Dean shook his head. “But at least I’ll be with family.”
“So you have already decided?”
“I think so” Dean said, then shook his head again. “You lost your father this month; I should be comforting you, too.”
“I didn’t know him that well. You were always closer to him.”
“I’d like to think that” Dean admitted. “Kind of sad to imagine he didn’t have any friends.”
“I have to agree with him” Billie said.
Crowley couldn’t find a singles thing to say.
He had never expected to see anyone actually mourning him.
Chapter Text
“I didn’t think –“ he finally began.
„That anyone would actually miss you? Yeah I got that” Billie said.
“No, that – that Dean would…” he trailed off, unsure what he had been about to say. “The picture?” he finally asked. “Of me – “
“Dean gave it to them, of course. Do you think you are the type to post pictures on Instagram?”
He shook his head, ignoring her sarcasm. “They are all doing fine” he argued, I fail to see – “
She threw her hands in the air. “Fine. Same evening, somewhat later.”
This time, the living room was deserted; at least he thought so until he saw Gavin sit on the couch, his picture in his hands.
“Gavin?” Fiona asked gently, entering the room.
He looked up. There were tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t think I truly understood he was gone until mine and Dean’s talk this afternoon.”
Her eyes softened. “I’m so sorry, my love.”
“The thing is – in a way, I am not. We never had anything resembling a true relationship, no matter how much I tried to make it happen – and I wouldn’t have given up. I’m less grieving him and more – feeling sorry for Dean.”
“He hasn’t had it easy. His mom, his job – “
“Add to that that he feels guilty because he can’t mourn his mother properly because all he has been doing for years is looking after her. It’s all so – “ Gavin looked down at the picture again and shook his head. “You know when I first met them – remember, I got to know both of them on the same day because I went to Father’s firm as soon as I learned who he was – I thought – I suspected – and then later I hoped –“
“I know” she said gently, sitting down beside him. “Dean would have made him very happy.”
“They would have made each other happy” he corrected her, “And Father would have taken better care of himself, or at least allowed Dean to do so. If only he’d seen what was right in front of him – “
“You cannot control a grown man’s decision, love. Trust me, I know.”
Gavin smiled at her. “You never quite got it, did you?”
She shook her head. “I had good parents. I never had any of the experiences you had, so it never made sense to me that you kept going back to ask.” She looked down at the picture. “No offense, Crowley.”
Gavin laughed. “I doubt he would have cared much even if he had been alive to hear you say it.”
She shrugged, smiling at him. “I am sorry the children will never get to know him.”
“That’s alright, they have your parents, and Dean, of course. He won’t allow his godson to forget about him just because he moves into another state.”
“You’re right about that” she said simply.
“Out of curiosity” Crowley asked, mostly to distract himself from the fact that his son had apparently made the conclusion that he and Dean had had feelings for each other, “What exactly happened to me?”
“Oh, you’ll love this” she said simply.
Crowley blinked and they were standing in a morgue.
Chapter Text
“If you think the sight of my own corpse will scare me…“ he trailed off.
She shook her head. “Just to prove to you that it would be a good idea to let people into your life.”
Crowley rolled his eyes but stepped towards the table where what he assumed his body lay under a sheet on a steel table. He grabbed the sheets of paper next to it.
“Pneumonia?” he asked, feeling slightly annoyed that something as simple had killed him.
“Yes. Surprise; you didn’t take care of yourself, and you weren’t exactly young, so… Dean blames himself, of course. Thinks he should have seen the signs you weren’t doing well, but – “
“His mother” Crowley interrupted her. She nodded.
He looked down and swallowed as he contemplated actually being taken care of by Dean because they were –
He shook his head.
“Still not convinced, I see. If the corpse doesn’t do it, I guess we’ll have to see all of it.”
And suddenly, he was alive again.
“A few days ago” Billie told him cheerfully.
Crowley winced; he clearly looked ill coughing into a tissue, looking as miserable as he could be.
But that was nothing against Dean’s expression when he entered his office.
He didn’t just look ill, but exhausted almost to the point of passing out, and the light in his eyes –
“It just happened, didn’t it? His mother.”
Billie nodded.
“Here are the files you asked for, sir” he said, the sir a clear indication that something was wrong.
Crowley wanted to reach out and comfort him, the strength of his desire surprising him.
His future self, however, was clearly too ill to notice; in fact, his hands were shaking as he took the files and nodded.
“Crowley…” Dean suddenly said, looking at him, “You look awful.”
That he didn’t react to being addressed so familiarly by an employee was another proof that something was up. “I am fine.”
“You should go home, get some rest” Dean insisted.
“I am not in the habit of taking advice about my health from my secretaries” he snapped in a tone that clearly indicated their talk was over.
Dean slung away, looking dejected and somewhat… heartbroken.
“That went well” Billie commented. He glared at her.
“What makes you think this will change my opinion on – anything? Dean is clearly better off without me – in case you don’t know, I have never been in a serious relationship.”
“And I am sure Dean would be very reluctant to teach you – “
“The answer is –“
She raised her hands. “That’s it. I have to bring the big guns, I see.”
With “the big guns” she apparently meant bringing them back to Crowley’s. He’d just returned from work – he easily recognized his nightly ritual of one large glass of Craig – but he looked even more ill than he had before. He was soon coughing again.
This time, when he pulled his hand away, there was blood on the tissue and Crowley winced. He wasn’t looking forward to his death.
Huh. Apparently life meant more to him than he had thought.
But on this night, he was fated to realize that there was something, or rather someone else who meant a lot to him, more than he had ever thought possible.
He had clearly recognized that he was dying. Considering a moron would have been able to see it, he wasn’t surprised.
What did surprise him were his actions.
He pulled out his phone and looked for something, his expression unlike anything he’d ever seen on his own face before.
He found it and smiled, but not the smile Crowley usually wore; no, it was… genuine. Happy. As if –
Another coughing fit brought the end, but he didn’t pay attention to the body slipping off the sofa; instead he went to grab the phone.
He sho0uldn’t have been able to, and yet he picked it up; he highly suspected Billie had something to do with it.
The last thing he would have expected his dying self to look at were texts from years ago, and yet –
That was the talk he’d had with Dean the other night, when his secretary had told him he could always count on him to play Ghostbuster if the need arose.
Crowley swallowed, only now realizing that he had indeed kept those texts against his usual habit.
But why would he –
And then, with astounding clarity, he knew what the dying man had realized too late.
He was in love with Dean Winchester. He didn’t just think him handsome, or a good secretary.
He was in love with Dean Winchester.
“There it is. Took you long enough, I was starting to –“
He tuned her out as he thought of his employee as he had never allowed himself to before.
Dean Winchester. The love of his life.
Who would have thought.
Chapter Text
“Hey!“ he complained when the texts he had been contemplating vanished alongside the phone and he found himself once again in front of a house he didn’t recognize.
“I have learned what you wanted me to learn, haven’t I? What are you – “
“Sometimes a story has to be seen through to the end” Billie said simply, “You might now be aware of your feeling for a certain green-eyed beauty, but who says you will act on them?”
“I tend to take what I want” he said curtly.
“You’re also convinced that it would be best for him to stay away from you. Quite frankly, I tend to agree; but sometimes the universe likes to be ironic, so here we are.”
“What – “
“It’s Sam Winchester’s house. Dean has been living with him for several years at this point; they never saw a reason why he should move out. Naturally, he found a good job; being your secretary for years ensured he had an excellent reputation. But sometimes that and family are just not enough.”
They entered the house, the tall man Crowley had seen in a vision before and Dean busy putting up a Christmas tree.
“Not even sure it is Christmas” Dean grumbled.
Sam laughed. “You say that every year since you moved here.”
“Seriously, what’s Christmas without snow and traffic chaos…” Dean smiled.
A phone rang. “Sorry, that’ll be mine. Gavin promised to call.”
“When do you fly over to see your godson again?”
“Sometime after the sixth of January, when I can get the time off.”
“Someone with your experience… still don’t understand why they couldn’t give you time off for the holidays.”
“Because I am not going to do that when the time off can go to someone who actually has kids to spend the holidays with, Sam.”
His eyes softened. “There are Mary and David.”
“Of course there are, Sammy, but I am the obnoxious uncle, not their father who folds at a glance at their puppy dog eyes. Always told you those would bite you in the ass one day.”
Sam rolled his eyes as Dean went to call Gavin.
“Hey” he said, strolling into what Crowley supposed was his room. Even after the visit of three ghost – four, if he counted his mother – he wasn’t sure how they always moved him to the right location.
“Hi Dean!” he hears his son’s voice through the phone and Crowley found himself smiling involuntarily at someone being so happy to hear from Dean. “How have you been?”
“Couldn’t be better” Dean answered, glancing at the drawer of his nightstand with a somewhat guilty expression that was explained when he carefully opened it and took out the same picture that had been sitting on Gavin’s fireplace. He looked at it for a few seconds, his smile dropping, before putting it away and resuming the conversation as if nothing had happened.
Dean hadn’t forgotten him. He had moved hundreds of miles away, was living with his brother’s family, and yet he hadn’t forgotten his former boss who had never been more but exactly that.
“There it is” Billie sighed before grinning. “I thought we’d never get to the fun part!”
“The fun – “
Before he could say another thing, she waved her hand in the air. “For the record, yes, this is fun, but you’re also kind of cute, so I feel a little split about it. But sometimes one just needs to hammer a lesson home, and you really have to see what happens until you open your heart and do the right thing by you and those you love despite – everything, really.”
And then he couldn’t breathe.
Only he also didn’t have to? He was only aware that he was in a lot of pain, and there were chains dragging him down; and there next to him was his mother saying, “Welcome, Fergus; I see you didn’t learn anything; where would you like to travel first, we cannot stay anywhere anyway –“
And then he became aware, or maybe he saw, he couldn’t say for the pain, that the weight was nothing but chains, heavy chains, and he knew he would be dragging them around for eternity, and he was falling –
Crowley woke up in his bed, panting. The sun was just rising; and from his alarm he soon learned that what had seemed like an eternity he had spent with the three ghosts had in truth been just one night.
He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He didn’t plan on freaking out longer about this than he absolutely had to; for, being a conscientious man, and having indeed learned his lesson – or rather, having decided that some things were worth the risk – he had something else to do.
He was about to start courting Dean Winchester.
Chapter Text
Dean got up to see that it had started to snow. Despite the fact that traffic would be obnoxious, he smiled. Some of his best memories consisted of him and Sam building snowmen in the backyard of their house.
Mom wasn’t up yet; her nurse Donna would soon arrive, allowing Dean to do his job and not be worried about her at the same time.
He would give Sam a call later.
Thinking of his brother, he couldn’t help but frown; they’d had another one of their pointless arguments last night, when Sam had offered to pay for Mom’s therapy bills once more.
As if he could have afforded that, with him and Sarah thinking about having kids.
Dean was alone, and Crowley paid him enough. He could handle it. The doorbell rang. He let Donna in.
“Dean! How’s my favourite secretary today!”
“Thank you, I’m quite well. How are you?”
They made chit chat over coffee before he had to leave for work.
“And? Any news from your dreamy boss?”
He blushed. The fact was that, after a particularly exhausting day on which Crowley had been rather demanding and he had come back to find Mom hysterical because she thought the demons had got him, and not even Donna had been able to calm her, they had sat down to a beer afterwards and he had let it slip that he might look upon Crowley as something more than an employer.
“He’s my boss, Donna” he said, shrugging. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”
“Nothing can happen if you don’t believe in yourself!” she said cheerfully, and he had to smile. Her enthusiasm never failed to cheer him up.
“Alright, but I still have to go now” he said. “Call me if –“
“Dean, don’t worry, this is my job for a reason.”
She really was a godsend, he sometimes thought.
As he had imagined, it took him slightly longer than usual to get to work, and yet he hadn’t expected Becky plus several higher staff members standing around his desk looking horrified.
“What is it?” he asked, his heart sinking; surely Crowley wouldn’t fire him because he was a little late once?
“We were wondering if you know what is going on” she whispered, her eyes wide.
“Becky, I only just came here, so if you could – “
“He gave us the holidays off” Zachariah announced, “Every single one of us. The firm will stay closed until New Years.”
Dean shrugged, even though it was a rather unusual move of Crowley’s. He’d learned long ago that his boss could now and then be surprisingly generous when he put his mind to it.
“So?”
“So!?” Zachariah demanded. “He smiled when he told us! He smiled!”
“That’s hardly strange” Dean said. In fact, Crowley smiled at him quite often, and it never failed to make the annoying butterflies in his stomach flutter.
“Since when?” Zachariah insisted and Dean remembered why he’d never liked him much.
“Look, we’ll get some free time off, and that’s nice. Why are you complaining about a good thing?”
Eventually, they seemed to see the wisdom of that statement and left him alone – except for Becky.
“They all went crazy. I just wanted to ask if you knew of it beforehand, seeing as you understand Crowley the best” she said apologetically.
“It’s quite alright” he assured her. “And it really is nice, right?”
Dean himself didn’t really look forward to Christmas. Sammy couldn’t make it – again – and his mother didn’t know what time of the year it was most days. True, sometimes she would recognize the decorations for what they were; but Dean would rather have her oblivious because she started searching for John to celebrate properly.
Becky seemed to understand because she said her goodbye soon afterward, and Dean was free to grab his calendar and check the appointments for today.
About ten minutes later, he knocked on Crowley’s door.
“Come in!”
Dean stepped into the office to a rare sight: A genuine smile of Crowley’s. While he stood by his testament that he smiled at him often enough, usually it was just little smirks or rather nasty triumphant grins because he had dealt with some bastard.
Dean had to swallow. He looked better than ever like this.
“Good morning.”
Good morning Dean. How are you?”
He’d never asked him that before.
“I – ahm – “ He cleared his throat. “Quite well. You, sir?”
“Very good. Also, it’s Crowley, please.”
Dean blinked. What the hell? Since when would he ever allow an employee –
“Your appointments for today” he said, stepping up to him. “I am afraid Roman is – “
“Yes, yes” Crowley said, interrupting him.
Another surprise. He never let anything get in the way of business.
But Dean would soon learn that the life he had known was over and done with because the next words out of Crowley’s mouth were “I have decided I will accept Gavin’s invitation. Would you like to be my date?”
Chapter Text
Crowley had just had his first coffee of the day when a man appeared in front of him, wearing a rumpled suit and trench coat.
After the things he had been through, he barely even blinked; certainly, if it had been another ghostly visit, he would have come at night.
“Who do you happen to be?” he asked casually.
“My name is Castiel. I am angel of the Lord.”
First time-travelling ghosts, now angels. Crowley wasn’t even surprised anymore. “No offense, but what does an angel want in my kitchen?”
“I have come to tell you that your mother has moved on. She is at peace now.”
He was unexpectedly happy to hear it.
“Thank you.”
“There is also something else. You wish Dean Winchester to accompany you to your son’s party, but he won’t be able to get a nurse for his mother at this time of the year. I volunteer to take care of her for the evening.”
“Can you heal her?” he asked calmly, remembering what angels were supposed to do.
He shook his head, looking sad. “Some minds are too broken.”
“We’ll see about that.” With his money, there was always another expert with a new theory promising healing.
Castiel smiled at him. “You have a much purer soul than I imagined.”
That, Crowley wasn’t ready to believe, but if the angel wanted to…
“I will allow you to get to work. Good luck, Crowley; Dean Winchester is a good and righteous man.”
With a flutter of wings, he was gone. Idly, Crowley wondered if he had a halo too before he shook his head and went to work.
Dean wasn’t there yet, and it was easy to guess why; the snow that had fallen had thrown the city into chaos, and he refused to get a more sensible car than the old Impala he drove.
So, to pass the time, Crowley called the department heads to a spontaneous conference and explained his plans to give every single employee paid holidays off.
He was rather sure Zachariah Adler was going to die from shock, but he made it long enough to get out of his office; and soon afterwards, Dean was knocking on his door.
Now, Crowley knew why he felt immediately happier at hearing his knock and watching the handsome man advance towards his desk.
He could have made some elaborate plan to ask him out, but he preferred to do things straightforward, and so he asked Dean to accompany him to Gavin’s as soon as the opportunity arose.
His secretary didn’t answer at first, instead opting to stare at him, his mouth hanging slightly open. Eventually, he forced out, “What?”
“I am asking you – “
“I get that, but – why? Because me and Gavin are friends?”
Oh, he realized; he thought he was using him to have it easier with his son. He was almost impressed by Dean’s suspicions. Almost.
“No, because you happen to be a very handsome man and I – like you very much.” It sounded rather lame, but how was he supposed to do this when there were feelings involved?
Dean looked away, blushing. “You – like me?”
“I do” he confirmed, somewhat helpless as to how he should proceed. Certainly there was –
Dean spared them both the trouble by stepping up to him, dragging him up by his tie and kissing him.
Huh. Maybe this was easier than he had thought.
“Man” Dean breathed eventually, letting go off him, “I wanted to do that for so long.”
“Please feel free to do it whenever the need arises.”
He chuckled. “Smug bastard.”
“You like it.”
“Yep.”
“So, will you accompany me to my son’s?”
“Of course. Always glad to see Gavin and Fiona.”
Dean was beaming, and Crowley decided being happy was a very good look on him.
Before, he would have been worried that this new aspect of their relationship could affect their work; but instead, the day passed faster than any Crowley could remember; and if they now and then stole a bit of time for some more… enjoyable activities, who was to know?
Dean was pretty sure he was dreaming as he drove home from work that night. Had Crowley really asked him out? Had he actually kissed his boss?
All evidence pointed to yes.
He grinned as he got out of the car. Man, what a day.
Donna opened the door for him, as always.
“Hello – hey look at you! What does you have beaming like that?” She grinned.
“Let’s just say I have a date.”
“What – are you kidding me – did your boss finally get tired of you being on the market?”
“Sorry, a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“I believe you just did.”
Dean shook his head at her.
“Now, come on. I have a free evening, and I need to hear all about this.”
Chapter Text
Crowley had been home for exactly ten minutes when he realized he had no idea how any of this was supposed to work. He knew theoretically, of course, but being in a relationship was still something he had never truly experienced, and –
His phone rang. He was surprised to see Gavin was calling him.
“Hello?”
“Hi Father, I just … alright, this will probably sound strange, but I’d rather like to know what prompted your change of heart in more than one way. No offense, but Dean is a good man.”
As weird as it was, Crowley was glad that Dean had people who looked out for him, even if they were his own son telling him to be careful. When he’d let him know they would come, they hadn’t really talked. Gavin had been too shocked to say anything.
“There wasn’t… a specific incident.” Lying might be his best option in this situation. “I just realized that… my feelings for Dean run quite deep.”
Gavin breathed a sigh of relief. “I was wondering if you just wanted to use him as a decoy.”
“No. Never.”
Crowley surprised himself with how sincere he sounded. Gavin giggled.
“You got it bad.”
“You’re one to talk” he argued.
“Guess you’re right. Fiona’s pretty happy you’re coming, by the way.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
They said their goodbyes soon afterward, Crowley realizing that it was rather nice to get along with his son after all.
Must be Dean’s influence.
The same man who had not left Crowley’s mind since they had separated was now talking to his brother on the phone.
“You have a date on Christmas Eve? That’s awesome!”
Dean grinned. “Hell yeah. Still can’t quite believe it, but – “ Suddenly, his heart dropped. “Dear God I forgot about Mom.”
“Dean” Sam said imploringly, “Look, we’ll make it work. I don’t care how – “
“You’re not even in the same state – “
“What does it matter? You relax and look forward to your date, alright?”
Dean agreed with him, but he still went to bed that night fearing he would not be able to visit Gavin with his boss after all.
The next day, his phone rang.
“Dean Winchester” he said, making coffee. Mom was thankfully still asleep.
“My Name is Castiel… Novak. I’m a certified nurse, and a Mr. Crowley has asked me to look after your mother on the Eve of the 24th.”
His heart beat faster. Crowley had actually made sure they could go? Really?”
“Yes. You can always look on my… page on the web.”
Alright, guy sounded a little weird, but he was a nurse, so probably exhausted.
“I’ll check it out.”
“Just call this number when you’ve deduced. And if I didn’t answer, just… leave your voice a message,” he said and hung up.
Huh. Dean dialled Crowley’s number.
“Hi –“
“Did you get the weirdest nurse this side of the Atlantic to look after my mother?=”
“Castiel? I assure you he is one of the best.”
He relaxed. Crowley always checked credentials. “Alright.”
In his defence, Crowley felt rather bad about lying to Dean, but he didn’t think He is an angel and offered to do it would be a good enough reason to trust him.
Dear God, yes, he actually did feel bad. That hadn’t happened in years. What was Dean doing to him?
“I believe the word you are looking for is conscience” Castiel’s voice interrupted him. He turned around.
“Did no one ever tell you it’s polite to call before showing up?”
“That’s why I didn’t that with Dean.”
Crowley looked at him. Castiel didn’t even bat an eye. Angels were rather strange.
“Thank you, anyway.”
He nodded and vanished.
To say that Crowley wasn’t a little nervous as he ordered a limousine to pick Dean up would have been an understatement.
And yet, seeing his – boyfriend in a suit was all worth it. He drew him into a kiss as soon as Dean opened the door.
“Hey, I’m about to meet your kid, no messing with the attire” he mumbled against his lips.
“You and Gavin have been friends for months” he pointed out.
Dean pulled back and shrugged, smiling weakly. “But this is different. Now he’s gonna meet me as his – Dad’s partner.”
“It will be alright” he assured him.
After what the ghosts had shown him, he was rather sure the he and Fiona would start planning their wedding soon.
Dean studied him, then slowly nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”
He took his hand as they walked back to the car, the driver staring until Crowley cleared his throat.
“Wow” Dean said, “Never been driven in a limo before.”
He grinned. “I thought we might as well travel in style.”
Dean shook his head. “No idea why I get to –“ He trailed off.
Crowley decided that his best bet was to kiss him again.
Life, he decided, could indeed be wonderful.
Chapter Text
Gavin opened the door for them, beaming. „Father! Dean!”
“Hi Gavin” he said, drawing him into a hug. “Merry Christmas”
“It is indeed” he said.
Crowley hesitated. Was he supposed to –
Gavin hugged him as well. “Fiona is so happy you agreed to come.”
He was rather certain that his eyes were a little teary-eyed as he drew back, but he couldn’t help it. Gavin lead the way and Dean held his hand. “Let’s go.”
The people in the room fell silent as they entered. Then Fiona moved forwards and hugged them both.
“Dean! Crowley! I’m so glad you could come.”
He was rather surprised that she knew how he preferred to be addressed, but he supposed his son must have told her.
“We’re happy to be here” Dean said with a cheeky grin. “Now what do you say, let’s get this party started.”
Crowley soon learned that Christmas parties were not nearly as annoying as he had always thought them to be; he suspected being with Dean helped a great deal, for he stayed by his side throughout the whole evening, always ready to make small talk when required.
Until the time his son drew him aside and Dean let him.
“I meant it when I said we are glad to see you here, and it’s not just because of Dean.”
“I know” he replied.
Gavin grinned. “While we’re at it, the way you’re looking at one another… I can already hear the wedding bells”
“Don’t hasten yourself, we have all the time in the world.”
Gavin smiled. “It’s good to hear you say that.”
After they had said their goodbyes that night, Crowley had them both driven back to his place, feeling slightly nervous. He knew Dean would probably wanted to get back to –
Dean’s text alert rang out. He took a double-take at the message and loved. “Where did you find him?”
Crowley glanced at the phone. I am ready to stay the night if you wish for the chance to participate in sexual intercourse.
Good God. Angels weren’t exactly subtle.
He didn’t quite know how to ask whether –
Dean kissed him. “Guess he can read minds.”
Alright then. Maybe it could be that easy after all.
Several hours later – Crowley wasn’t quite sure of the time – Dean was lying next to him in bed. “Man, that was some celebration.”
“Are you staying?” he asked.
“Of course. If you want me too.”
“I want you to stay forever.” He had no idea why he had said it out loud.
Dean chuckled. “Careful, that just might happen.”
They went to sleep pretending they weren’t cuddling.
When Crowley woke up, the bed was empty, but he could hear Dean talking in the other room. “Yeah, Sammy, I know, conflict of – wait, l what? Yeah I’m happy. Alr- Alright. I just… No, someone’s with Mom, so – yeah, everything’s fine.”
Crowley dozed off again. When he woke up about an hour later, he got dressed and found Dean in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
“Merry Christmas” he told him, grinning. “I am supposed to greet you, my brother said.”
“You talked to him?”
Dean nodded, then looked away. “We facetimed. He said something was up right away, because I hadn’t looked that happy in ages.”
Crowley drew him into his arms and nuzzled his neck.
“Hey, I am trying to cook here” Dean complained, but he didn’t sound angry.
“And I am trying to distract you. Is it working?”
“You damn well know it is” he muttered. “Guess I’ll have to get used to it.”
Crowley, on this Christmas Day, experienced something he’d never thought he would.
He was content.
Chapter Text
Crowley had refused to believe there was something magical about Christmas ever since he had realized that being shouted at and dragged about by a parent wasn’t normal, but it was difficult not to get into the Christmas mood with Dean staying with him the whole day.
Right after breakfast, he got a text from Gavin.
Hope you and Dean are having a good Christmas Day ;).
He showed the text to his boyfriend. “Should I be worried? Normally children aren’t that concerned with their parents’ relationship status, certainly?”
Dean burst into laughter. “Sometimes you sound like an alien trying to figure out the human race.”
Crowley frowned, unsure whether Dean was implying –
“Stop it”. Dean kissed him. “I like you just the way you are.”
Why, Crowley would never be able to understand, but then, he’d never hesitated to take what he knew was too good for him anyway.
They stayed inside, occasionally making out or retiring to bed for even more pleasurable activities.
“Best Christmas ever” Dean decided late in the evening as they were cuddling on the couch. Crowley had never before seen many benefits to snuggling up to someone, but he was re-evaluating his priorities rather quickly. “But I better get back home. Can’t let Cas look after Mom 24/7 now.”
Crowley had to reluctantly admit that he had a point, since he couldn’t exactly tell him the truth.
So, with another kiss, Dean departed.
About half an hour later – he had just received a text from Dean telling him he’d gotten home – Castiel appeared in front of him. By this point, he didn’t even flinch.
“Dean Winchester has a very bright soul” he informed him casually.
“Could you do anything for his mother?” he asked.
Castiel sighed. “I tried my best. I used my Grace to try and call her mind back from the place she has hidden herself in, but I don’t know whether I succeeded. Only time can tell.”
Crowley nodded. “Thought you guys were supposed to be all powerful.”
“I used to be stronger. I got – I rebelled against some of my orders.”
“Look at you. Well, whenever you need a break from the other angels, you can always come here.” Crowley was feeling rather generous after the day he’d had.
Castiel looked surprised, then nodded. “No matter what happens to Mary Winchester, however, Dean will be happier now.”
“If you say so, Feathers.”
Castiel tilted his head to the side. “Our wings aren’t –“
“It’s just a nickname.”
“I see.”
And with the sound of fluttering wings, Castiel was gone. Crowley wondered if he’d insulted him. Probably not. Guy just had something else to do, he was ready to bet.
After that, Castiel became just another new aspect of his – and Dean’s life together. Against all expectations, the angel eventually turned into a close friend of theirs; as Dean would often explain in later years, “Yeah, he’s a bit weird, but then, so are we.”
Dean and Crowley spend New Year’s Eve together, of course.
“You know kissing me on midnight will mean you’re stuck with me for another year?” Dean asked casually.
Crowley only smiled.
His plans extended far beyond that time span.
One year later
Dean insisted on decorating the house they had bought only two months before, and Crowley saw no reason to deny him (as Gavin would have reminded him, this was usually the case when Dean’s boyish grin and his sparkling eyes were concerned).
When Crowley had first brought up the subject of moving in together, Dean had been hesitant, explaining that he didn’t feel comfortable leaving his mother alone, trained nurses or no trained nurses.
And then Castiel’s Grace had done its magic.
Mary Winchester was not the woman she had been before her mental breakdown, and she probably never would be; but she had recovered enough to realize her sons were grown, and to think that it was quite a good idea for Dean to move in with his “beau.”
Thanks to Crowley’s money, Dona was now employed as her full-time nurse, along with three others to make sure every one of them had enough free time. Dean had denied his help for months, but had eventually caved when Mary herself had insisted that he should go out and “live his life.”
Still, they all agreed the Christmas Party on Christmas Eve would probably be a bit much for Mary; Sam and Dean, along with Sarah and Crowley, would visit her on Christmas Day.
“I think that’s everything…” Dean fretted. Crowley shook his head and pulled him into a kiss. “Dean, everyone loves your cooking.”
“I just want to make a good impression. It’s the first party in this house, and –“
“Trust me” he drawled, “You always look good.”
Dean shook his head. “We’re already living together, you don’t have to flirt with me anymore.”
“Have to make sure you don’t get any ideas about running away.”
Really, Crowley thought, as Dean laughed and kissed him, maybe putting a ring on his finger one of these days would be a good idea.
Chapter 25
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Several years later
He woke up alone, again. That wasn’t unusual; Dean was an early riser, and ever since they had moved in together, Crowley slept better and better.
Then he heard his husband and grandchild giggle and smiled.
Fiona and Gavin had only been too glad to allow Emma to stay the night, considering they also happened to be their next-door neighbours.
As he got up and dressed, he heard Emma laugh again, followed by his husband whispering to her. Dean was probably trying to make her keep quiet not to wake him up.
Yes, his life had improved considerably since that cold night his mother had come to visit him.
He entered the kitchen to find Dean and Emma decorating Ginger-Bread houses. Dean grinned at him and winked before dramatically exclaiming, “Look at that, young lady, now you have woken up your Grandfather like I said you would and I get my prize – the whole house”
“No Uncle Dean!” she started to protest. Crowley walked over to them to kiss Dean and pick her up. “Why are we up so early anyway?”
“Silly Grandfather. It’s Christmas!”
“Christmas Eve” he reminded her, “You’ll only get your presents tomorrow.”
“Still Christmas!”
Crowley had more than once considered the possibility that she had inherited her love of Christmas from Dean before he’d realized they weren’t related, technically speaking.
“Yeah, you tell that Scrooge, Em.”
“I will have you know that I am very far from a real Scrooge – if anything, I’m Scrooge after the Christmas Carol took place.”
Dean winced. “Sorry to hear that. Guy went a bit crazy at the end, wouldn’t you say?”
Crowley shook his head as the three-year-old wriggled in his arms. “Lemme go! I have to help Uncle Dean with the house!”
He allowed her to pouter over to him.
Dean’s twinkling eyes promised a session under the mistletoe later.
Life was good.
This year it was their turn to host the Christmas party. Considering that, they probably shouldn’t have taken Emma beforehand; but she loved staying with them, and she was such a ray of sunshine, as Dean always said, that neither of them had been able to say no when the puppy dog eyes had come into play.
Sam and Sarah were the first to arrive. After it had become clear a few years ago that Dean and Crowley were in for the long haul, the younger Winchester and his spouse had decided to move back home.
Mary had sadly passed away two years ago; but she’d received the very best of care, and Crowley couldn’t help but take some satisfaction from the fact that at least he himself was still alive and kicking. Mary had also been able to meet Emma.
“Crowley” Sam greeted him. At the beginning, they hadn’t exactly been the best of friends, but he had mellowed towards him over the years.
“Sam, Sarah – fetching as always.”
She chuckled. “Still the charmer, I see. Small wonder Dean decided to keep you.”
“You got it backwards. I latched on and never let go.”
Sarah laughed. “Well, you’re not to blame. It’s the Winchester magic.”
She looked over his shoulder and her eyes softened. Reading her right, Crowley turned around to see Dean with Emma in his arms talking to Sam.
“It’s really great we all live so close together. Dean is wonderful with kids.”
He wondered if they’d be getting some good news soon.
She was right; Dean was wonderful with children. He’d certainly taken to being Emma’s “adoptive grandfather” as he had called it immediately.
Crowley didn’t have too much time to dwell of it for soon afterwards his son and daughter-in-law arrived, followed by Becky and her new boyfriend Charles and many others they had befriended over the years, an angel among them.
Soon their living room was filled with people and laughter. Even after all this time, every time Dean smiled at him Crowley could feel his heart start to beat faster.
“Hey” Dean whispered late in the veining, “Run away with me for a bit? It’s started to snow.”
Sometimes his husband reminded him of a small enthusiastic boy.
They slipped into the garden unnoticed after getting their jackets.
“Told you” Dean breathed.
Crowley found him far more captivating than the snow.
He chuckled. “You are staring.”
“Always, darling.”
Dean shook his head. “Why did I ever marry you when you can’t even appreciate snow.”
“I can appreciate you” Crowley announced, drawing him close.
“You better” Dean said and kissed him.
They didn’t hear Gavin coming but he interrupted them by laughing. “Really? Still? Father, Dean, would you stop acting like teenagers for a moment and come in? It’s almost midnight, and Em wants to sing Christmas carols.”
Dean shot Crowley a soft look and took his hand.
“Let’s go celebrate.”
Notes:
A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE READING THIS!!!!
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