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Despite often being called the dumb brother, Dean has never considered himself stupid. In fact, he’s smarter than most in some situations, for example when he’s hunting –
Or when he has to stop another Apocalypse.
Or now, watching Crowley confront Lucifer, wondering what trick the demon has up his sleeve now.
“Sam” he whispers, “Did he say something to you?”
“He said in order to finish the spell to close the door he needs to take a life.”
“But that’s not an archangel’s blade, it won’t –“
And suddenly, Dean knows. The whole truth flashes before his eyes, everything that’s about to happen, and he won’t allow it. They’ve already lost enough. Things are bad enough as they are – as vile as Lucifer is, Dean would never have expected him to open a door to a universe where the Apocalypse took place so he can kill Michael and rule over that world instead of theirs.
“Sam” he commands, “Find one of those demon things and kill it. Now.”
“What are you –“
But he’s already racing towards Crowley and Lucifer.
He’s turning around, his mouth forming the word “bye” and Dean’s suspicions are confirmed.
“Yeah, no”. He wrings the blade out of Crowley’s hands and stabs it towards Lucifer.
It doesn’t kill him, of course, but it slices his throat open, distracting him enough that Dean can grab Crowley’s biceps and drag him away a few steps. “What the hell did you think –“
“I am trying to close the door!”
“Then help me and Sam!”
Sam is fighting another one of those horned things, but with Crowley’s help, they dispatch it quickly; but even then, it’s not soon enough, for Lucifer is advancing towards them –
Cas steps through the portal, looking determined.
Dean wonders if he’ll ever manage to keep all his... friends safe.
This time, it’s Crowley who acts. With a blink, they are all standing in front of the portal. “Wrong direction Feathers, let’s go!”
They all burst through the portal at the same time, and not a moment too soon. It closes behind them.
Dean leans his hands on his thighs, breathing heavily. They did it. They actually locked Lucifer in.
But that doesn’t means he’s going to forget about...
“Seriously Crowley, what the hell?”
“What do you mean?” Sam asks stupidly.
“What do I – you heard him! A life! And him standing there in front of Lucifer as if he’s about to hold one last great speech!”
“Are you saying...” Sam begins, staring at Crowley who’s looking rather uncomfortable.
“I am saying that he was about to gut himself for us!”
“Crowley” Cas says, “Is that true?”
The demon looks at him. A short, hard nod.
“I know the feeling” he says lightly and Dean’s rather sure he’s never seen Crowley so confused in his life.
“Sam? Dean? Cas?” Mom is running towards them. “Where is Lucifer?”
“Back in the parallel universe” Dean answers as she hugs him. “Crowley knew a spell that closed the portal for good.”
After she’s hugged Sam and Cas too, she turns to Crowley. “You did?”
He nods again. “Well then, I’m off. There’s a Hell that needs closing.”
“Let us know when you’re done” Dean replies simply. He figures he can give him some leeway; guy was about to die for them, for God’s sake.
After Crowley’s vanished, Sam says, “I have to admit: I didn’t see this coming. How did you know?”
Dean shrugs. “Partly knowing him pretty well, and partly remembering that we never catch a break, so losing another one of ours just seemed to fit. I’m only glad I caught him in time.”
“He’s certainly... nicer than you made him sound” Mom replies.
“Yeah, well... He grows on you. Like a tumour, but still. Let’s go home.”
The drive back to the bunker is quiet. Dean knows very well that not everything has been wrapped up nice and clean; try as he might, he can’t get out of his head that Mom only seemed to care for what he had to say about Sam and how he was brought up, and precious little about Dean himself.
It can wait. For now, they’re finally rid of the devil, and Cas is coming to the bunker with them, to stay this time.
And yet, that night as he settles down to sleep, Dean can’t help the feeling that something’s missing.
He soon learns what, or rather, who.
After having slept through the night for once, he’s the first one up and making coffee when Crowley greets him with “Morning, Squirrel. Hell’s closed. No more demons expect those that are already on earth. And souls can pass through the gates,.”
“Good” Dean says, turning around, the question if he wants a cup dying on his lips as he sees the same expression on Crowley’s face that stared back at him yesterday in the waste land.
He’s come to say goodbye. Not to kill himself, properly, but to say goodbye. See you never. Hasta la nope won’t see you again.
And Dean remembers Cain and how he talked about mixed feelings concerning Crowley being gone. Yes. He was absolutely right.
Well. It can’t be helped, but he should still know that they’re here in case he hears of something big going bump in the night.
“Fancy a coffee before you go? Oh, and don’t lose our number. Lucifer may be gone, but God knows what else is out there ready to pounce. You know our luck.”
“Of course” he answers, studying Dean. “Yes, I think I’d like coffee.”
The other inhabitants of the bunker stumble into the kitchen one by one, none of them too surprised to see Crowley.
If anything, the demon seems to be the most baffled of them all, especially when Mom greets him politely.
Ah, how times have changed.
“Say, Crowley” he begins, “There’s this book in the library we’ve been having trouble with. Do you mind taking a look before you disappear?”
He’d rather ask him to stay, but that’s complicated. Hell, it’s Dean’s life, so everything’s complicated.
At least Crowley seems to perk up a bit at that, and soon, he’s busy in the library.
Dean is cleaning the dishes from breakfast when Mom approaches him. “Dean...”
“Yes?”
They stare at one another until her eyes drop away from his gaze and she says, quietly, “Do you need any help?”
Half-silences it will be, then. He’s not surprised.
He focuses on the positive things. Like the fact that Crowley stays in the bunker even though he completes the translation within an hour (when Crowley staying became a positive thing – that’s complicated, too.)
Dean joins him in the library for a drink. When he enters, Crowley puts a book away.
Dean glances at the title. “The Hunting of the Snark?”
“A search for something that can never be explained, will probably kill you on sight and doesn’t want to be found in the first place. An ample metaphor, don’t you think, Squirrel?”
He nods. “Only wish I knew what for.”
“Just about anything, I’d say.” Crowley hesitates, then adds with a casualness that seems a bit forced, “Now that I am apparently one of the good guys, can I have my own room? You all have one, I feel left out.”
“Of course” Dean replies, “we have so many empty rooms, it doesn’t matter.”
Only it does, because one year ago, two years ago, he’d never have seen this coming, and he’s rather sure none of the Men of Letters who built the bunker ever assumed a demon would come live in it.
Crowley’s next move surprises him a bit. “I’ll see what I can find out about the wardings. There might be a little trick that allows me to pass and still get them up to full power again.”
“Sounds awfully clever.”
“I’ve made it a habit of mine to be, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Apart from the times you try to kill yourself so we can get away, Dean thinks. God, he’s happier than ever that he realized.
He looks at the book again. “For the Snark was a boojoom, you see.”
“Knew you’d read it” Crowley says smugly.
Dean considers it best not to answer.
And so, the former king of Hell roaming the hallways of the bunker becomes a familiar sight. He’s good company when Sam and Cas are busy, Dean will admit, especially after Mom opened her mouth again and didn’t find the words she wants to say.
Dean isn’t sure he needs to hear them. They’ll just confirm that he’s still what he has always been, an afterthought to Sam’s wellbeing.
Really, what else is new? Plus, his brother and his two best friends (although he will never tell Crowley that to his face) are alive and well and living with him, he can’t ask for much more.
That’s the state of things until Crowley gets involved.
At first, Dean doesn’t even know they’re talking. He just assumes she’s come to accept Crowley’s presence the same way she’s learned to accept their lot in life, and that’s it.
But then, when he and Crowley are taking a night cap, the demon says suddenly, “She’s very proud of you, you know. Never can shut up about the good man you’ve become when we talk.”
“Who?” he asks, confused.
Crowley rolls his eyes. “Who do you think? Your mummy dearest, of course.”
He snorts. “Yeah, right. Because she likes you so much you two have frequent heart-to-heart talks.”
“You’d be surprised. She’s been searching me out now and then, at night. When she can’t sleep.”
He gives Dean a pointed look. He can’t even be mad; he’s been doing the same. And it’s not like he’s surprised that Mom doesn’t talk to him when she’s upset.
“Not curious?”
“Crowley” he says tiredly. “I went into her head. There’s nothing there but a four-year-old me eating a sandwich while she’s busy watching over Sam.”
“You’d be surprised” is all Crowley says. “Just be prepared for me declaring “I told you so” in a dramatic fashion.”
“You do everything in a dramatic fashion” Dean points out.
“Someone has to keep things classy around here” Crowley says lightly, and they drop the topic.
Still, Dean awakes the next morning feeling thoroughly confused. Why would Mom talk to Crowley about him? She threatened to kill him when they first met.
He decides to ask, since he’d rather not realize that it was actually a plan of hers to get close to him and then gank him – granted, she seems rather happy to see him most days, but she was raised a Campbell, and she might still share some of his grandfather’s and the Brits’ opinions.
He finds her in the war room, pouring over an old manuscript, another one of Crowley’s translations,
“Mom?”
“Yes, Dean?”
“Crowley mentioned that...”
“I should have known he would” she sighs, putting the book aside. “He keeps saying I should tell you those things, rather than him.”
“That’s just it – what sort of things? Please don’t tell me you’re giving him the leverage of embarrassing childhood stories about me.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not it.” He waits patiently until she continues. “When you got me out of that... place, I focused on Sam because I – because I – couldn’t bear to think of what you had gone through. Sam had you, at least. You had nothing:”
“I had Dad” he argues.
She shakes her head. “Leaving you alone all the time, responsible for your younger brother. You didn’t even get to finish school.”
He knows she’s read Dad’s diary, and he doesn’t feel like lying either, so he says nothing.
“Oh dean” she reaches up to cradle his face in her hands. “The truth is, my beautiful boy, that husband I remember was not the man who raised you, and I wish he could have been.”
“Mom...”
“No, let me say it. I am sorry, Dean. I am sorry for every single night you had to go to bed hungry so Sam could eat, I am sorry for every lesson you missed to look after him, I am sorry for you being sent away because you stole food.”
And suddenly Dean realizes.
Those memories don’t come from Dad’s diary. Normally he never would have, but back when he was a demon, he and Crowley chatted sometimes. Between bad karaoke and drinking several liquor stores.
Bastard’s been telling her all about him.
But as he hugs his mother, he can’t be too upset.
Life changes slightly after that. The atmosphere in the bunker becomes lighter, happier, and Crowley seems to be settled in for good.
Dean thinks things can’t get much better until they travel to another hunter get together and a newbie who doesn’t know better just hears the words “demon” and douses Crowley with holy water.
Before any of them can react, Mom has him lying in front of her, groaning.
“Touch any of my boys again” she hisses, “And you’ll have more problems than that.”
Dean will admit that Crowley’s face is definitely worth the few bumps they encountered on the road.