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He grabbed her arm for some reason, unable to understand why he’d even done it. Just a spur of the moment sort of thing, most likely... Then there was the way she looked at him through tear moist eyes… it was filled with repulsed disappointment as she wrestled her hand away from his. He knew he shouldn’t take it to heart. This was all another part of his mother’s act. Did she actually think he'd fall for her childish tricks again? It might have worked when he was just a stupid little prat but not anymore.
Her back was turned to him now as she walked away and it triggered that long forsaken childhood memory. Two words kept repeating in his mind, just like that day when his mother had promised she'd be back in a flash as she walked away from him, just as she was now.
Don't go.
He realized that he'd wanted to say it when he'd grabbed her but ended up pleading with his eyes instead, hoping that it'd be enough. It never was. It would always end like this, no matter who it was. He would always be the one that clung onto others when they wanted to leave him. When he turned his back, no one would do the same. It was the cold hard truth that no one wanted him around whether they were demon, angel, or human. Not even his own mother. She was the only person he had left, even if he knew she was using him, manipulating him – but he didn't want to be alone. He knew that it was pathetic and needy and repulsively human.
The hallway that had swallowed her fading figure seemed to jeer back at him, only magnifying the fact that being alone was all he had. He stood with her luggage, her last words echoing in his mind.
“You’re their bitch.”
She'd never meant well for him but there was a certain truth behind her words. Something that he shouldn't have forgotten. He was the king, wasn’t he? He’d clawed his way up, tooth and nail for this and for what? To be turned into some trained circus monkey, pining over the next call when he’d get together with the boys and their feathered mascot for another one of their enticing missions.
He made his way over to the table, generously pouring himself another glass and taking a swig before he made his way over to his throne, slumping wearily into it. It was time that he threw away the hopeless dream. He was all he had. No more, no less.
“Crowley.”
His eyes flicked up at the sound of his name, a vicious hostility glinting in them that seemed to highlight his - usually amber eyes - in a blood red hue that vanished as the demon king blinked. He’d been so immersed in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realized that the angel had shown up.
“Come to pour more salt on the wound?" A bitter laugh followed as Crowley leaned back. "I knew I could always count on you, Cas.”
Crowley's voice was uncomfortably calm in stark contrast to the tornado of emotions that seemed to gleam like a well-sharpened knife in his eyes.
Castiel tilted his head, watching the demon carefully. One thing he had learned about the demon was that he always wore this mask, putting up an act as if nothing ever hurt him or that he cared about anything. In truth, the demon had been hurt from the way Dean had treated him, giving Castiel the blade instead of returning it as promised.
"What do you want from me?" Crowley inquired lowly, hoping the conversation would be short. Everyone wanted something from him. His mother. The Winchesters. The demons. They were all the same. He was only useful and expendable when it came down to it and Castiel was no exception. The angel was here to grovel at his feet for the Winchesters because they needed him.
"I don't want anything from you," Castiel replied as he approached Crowley's throne slowly. "I didn't know that Dean would lie to you. Neither did Sam. Dean's not himself right now... you know this. He should have returned the blade to you."
From the depths of the shadows, he saw Crowley's face hardening.
"And that matters to me why?” The glass clinked softly in his hand as Crowley took another sip, avoiding eye contact, finding comfort in the rusted gold liquid inside. “I don't give a damn, Castiel - about any of it."
The sympathetic look that softened Castiel's usually set face ignited a poignant anger in Crowley, one that he was struggling to control. He didn’t want Castiel’s pity. "It's the reason you left so quickly," Castiel pointed out.
Crowley’s forced smile only confirmed the fact that the demon had been deeply wounded and would have fooled anyone with that fake smile... but Castiel wasn't just anyone. "If you all want to keep the blade, it's none of my concern. Shove it up your arse, chuck it off a cliff - I don't care." He emptied his glass with one go, still refusing to look up. "If that's all you've come to squawk at me about, we're done here. I have more important matters to deal with."
He rose from his seat, roughly shoving past Castiel with his shoulder, slamming his empty glass on the tabletop. He reached for the bottle when a hand stopped him.
"Get your filthy feathered paws off me," Crowley snapped. The venomous bite behind the demand made the hand pull away.
“This belongs to you.”
Crowley ignored the angel. As he watched the liquid filling his glass, there was a clatter of wood on wood beside him. He set the bottle down, taking a quick peek as to what Castiel had just put on the table. It was the First Blade.
It was only then that Crowley’s wide eyes met Castiel’s but what wasn’t expected was the furious rage that distorted the demon’s usually calm face. His lips were pulled back in a feral snarl, teeth gritted together, and eyebrows furrowed in anger. Castiel was barely able to brace himself when Crowley, with unexpected agility, clobbered him right in the face and then grabbed onto the lapels of his trench coat and flung him across the room. Castiel was quick to recover, picking himself up again, eyes rapidly searching the room for Crowley. Instead, his vision was blocked out by a dark figure that slammed him into the wall.
Castiel was struggling to breathe as he felt cold metal at his throat. He was able to make out the shiny silver angel’s blade that Crowley held in one hand, the other made its way to the back of his head, grasping his hair and yanking it back harshly to fully expose his throat.
“I know that you and the Winchesters find me to be a complete joke,” Crowley hissed out, his mouth so close that Castiel could feel every surge of heat with every anger filled breath the demon took, “but it’s about time I remind you all who exactly you’re dealing with. You think you all can treat me however you want in front of Dean and then come scurrying back since you realize that you need me?"
The hold on his throat tightened and Castiel’s hands went to grab at Crowley’s wrist in a poor attempt to stop him.
"It's about time I got rid of you. For good." The demon tilted his head in a mocking manner, eyes lit with a wicked glint. "I think I'll send the boys your pretty head as my au revoir present. That should get the message across nicely, don't you think?"
“Crowley –” Castiel managed to say, barely able to speak as he struggled for air as he used what little movement he had to gaze apologetically into the demon’s wrathful eyes because when it did come down to it, he truly meant the words he was about to say.
“I’m –”
Castiel could tell his body wasn’t going to hold off much longer without oxygen but he had to get these words out.
“– sorry.”
Crowley seemed to falter for a moment, hold slightly loosening. Castiel was about to relax in relief when the angel blade rammed into his shoulder. He shouted in agony as a burning pain began to spread from the wound but he somehow managed to find Crowley’s eyes once again. Blood dripped down from the wound but the demon held the blade there, twisting it and watched with cold eyes as Castiel winced, grinding down on his teeth to prevent himself from crying out. Crowley yanked the angel blade out, keeping it at Castiel's throat again as a red trail ran down the length of the weapon. Blue light began to peek through the gash but Crowley paid no attention to it.
“Don’t lie to me, ducky. I’m done with the whole lot of you."
Castiel could feel the silent fury behind the words but it didn’t hide the tint of remorse that coated each word and… there was something else too… Castiel lost his train of thought as his throat constricted tighter than ever, his vision slowly fogging up but able to just make out the scarlet silhouette of the angel blade, raised and ready.
The angel could have fought for his life at this point. Crowley could see that. There was still quite a bit of fighting juice left in Castiel from what he could see and yet, there wasn’t any resistance left, even when he really was about to kill the angel for good. Castiel just looked back at him with a soft reverent smile that was just barely there, his hands gently holding onto Crowley’s wrist without an ounce of opposition in them.
What was stopping him? It should be easy. Castiel, a bloody angel of all creatures, had dared to come here, to his domain without batting an eye. Not only that, but to make a mockery of him by offering the First Blade in return. Did Castiel really think that his forgiveness could be bought and traded for like some cheap crossroads deal?
And yet, even with all the anger that was pulsing through him, Crowley couldn't bring himself to do it for some unimaginable reason. Killing Castiel was... wrong. He felt like the minute he killed the angel, there would be a missing part of who he was after everything he's done with and for the angel. He knew what fear felt like, especially the time when he'd rebelled against Lucifer. But this kind of fear was different, more potent, more severe, in a way that it didn't even compare.
Castiel looked on at the demon whose eyes were looking back at him but absent of focus. They had so much in common but it was a shame that it had come to this. He felt oddly content at the thought of dying under Crowley's hands... it just felt right.
Instead of the final blow he'd been expecting, Crowley's hand released Castiel’s neck as he pulled away, his expression unreadable. Castiel coughed, leaning on the wall as he regained his breath, his free hand gripping his shoulder to stop some of the bleeding. When he glanced up, he saw Crowley half turned towards him, ready to turn his back, one hand clutching the angel blade, the other shoved into his pocket.
“Get out. Before I change my mind,” Crowley warned threateningly, turning as he finished.
A firm grip clamped around his wrist, stopping him from going any further.
“Don’t go.”
Crowley froze at the two words. What was with this angel? And why did he make a demon like him feel this way? All he knew was that he didn't like it at all. He didn't know what to do and his chest felt all fuzzy and light. It was as if molten lava was pumping through his entire vessel's body with every heartbeat – Castiel had completely annihilated the multiple layers of defenses he had built up over the centuries in one go... with two bloody words.
He tried to twist his hand away but the stupid bird held onto him tighter in response. Crowley wanted to shake off this foreign feeling. He tried to free himself again, clutching the angel blade tightly because it was the only thing he felt in control of. Castiel clenched harder the more he struggled. He didn't want to face the angel or speak to him. He didn't know what he'd give away, not now – not when he was so internally compromised.
It was almost as if the angel sensed his internal struggle because before Crowley realized what was happening, two hands had wrapped around his waist as Castiel pulled him into... a hug? Did the air headed pigeon realize that he still had the angel blade in his hand? Not to mention that only moments before, he'd almost killed him.
Instead, Crowley found himself grudgingly allowing the warm body behind him to pull him in closer. He stiffened when he felt Castiel's lips skim over his earlobe that sent all kinds of shivers down his spine. He could feel the warmth of the angel's breath that was melting away his lingering defiance.
This was too intimate for him. It reminded him too much of what they had before -
All resistance left him when stubble tickled the back of his neck as Castiel nuzzled into the nape of his neck before settling his chin on Crowley's shoulder.
"You're getting blood all over my suit," Crowley grumbled but made no move to get away.
Castiel's lighthearted chuckle rumbled near his ear. It was rare to hear the angel laugh like that.
"Let go of me before I finish what I started," Crowley growled, struggling to get out of the tight bear hug Castiel had him trapped in.
The stubborn angel refused to budge so he fought harder. He could feel Castiel's hold on him loosening when there was a sudden flutter. Crowley found his mouth full of black tattered feathers as Castiel used his wings to wrap them around the demon like a second pair of arms to pull Crowley back into his grasp before the demon could escape. Crowley cursed as he spat out the feathers that kept sticking onto his damp lips. Castiel hummed in satisfaction but he could feel the smugness radiating from the angel behind him.
"Cheater," Crowley huffed with a resigned sigh.
"I really am sorry," came the muffled response. "The way Dean treated you was wrong. Sam and I were no better since we stood by and did nothing." Castiel's lips brushed the demon's neck with each word that sent a tingling sensation down his jaw, radiating across his lips. Crowley quickly pushed it away before the sensation hypnotized him.
“Get off of me right now and maybe, just maybe, I’ll consider your apology -”
He hadn't even finished speaking and it caught Crowley by surprise as Castiel’s wings immediately withdrew from around him before the angel hesitantly lifted his head away from Crowley, hands releasing their grip on him. The demon straightened his suit, lifting the bloody angel blade up, a split second later, gleaming wickedly clean without a trace of blood. Finally, Crowley turned to face the angel.
Castiel studied him without giving any attention to his bleeding shoulder and the idiot wasn’t phased at all when Crowley twirled the angel blade in his hands. Instead, the only look the demon was getting from Castiel were hopeful wide eyes.
“Oh bullocks,” Crowley sighed out, rolling his eyes as he stowed the blade away inside his jacket. “Come here, kitten.”
He gestured to the angel to come closer, taking the opportunity to skim over Castiel’s tattered black wings that he hadn’t gotten the chance to see again since the whole purgatory souls fiasco. Instead of the strong muscled wings he remembered, these looked frail, slightly quivering as if Castiel was having trouble holding them up. The feathers looked like they were barely hanging on in some places more than others and they were in horrible condition, the messy plumage a burnt and withered mess. Castiel should be the one in pain so why was he?
He batted the feeling way, stepping forward to invade the angel's personal space who simply watched him as the wings folded behind him, disappearing.
"You alright, darling?" Crowley asked as he began to straighten Castiel's messed up trenchcoat and suit jacket from their earlier brawl, eyes scanning the angel's for clues. The question was more focused on Castiel's mental state, especially after he'd almost died a few moments ago.
Castiel's forehead showed wrinkles as it furrowed in confusion. "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"
That just about answered Crowley's question. Of course Cas was just fine. He was the only angel in existence to hug a demon after that said demon had almost killed him. Good God, how had Castiel even survived for this long as an angel lacking half a brain? Crowley rolled his eyes as he undid the knot of Castiel's striped tie.
"Did I or did I not almost kill you earlier? Or did you just think that I was manhandling you?" Crowley scoffed as he finished redoing Castiel’s tie, running his fingers down the silky material before tucking it underneath the trenchcoat.
Castiel shrugged. Idiot.
Crowley’s attention now went to the wound that he had inflicted earlier.
"You had every right to be angry," was the answer as Castiel raised his hand over the wound, noticing where Crowley's attention was. It was forcefully pushed away by the demon's hand.
"Let me do it. You're running low on battery as it is."
With a snap, the pain in Castiel's shoulder disappeared. It was as if nothing had happened. His outer appearance was clean and kept, just as he had looked when he had first arrived. Crowley nodded approvingly as Castiel awkwardly outstretched his hands, looking himself over before grinning like the stupid idiot that he was as his eyes met Crowley’s. There was an unspoken conversation between them but Castiel could tell that Crowley had forgiven, not only Dean, but him as well.
His mouth opened but was interrupted by the clicking of heels on the concrete floor that caught both of their attention as a red haired lady dressed in black walked into the room. She stopped a few feet away when she caught sight of them.
“Did I interrupt something, Fergus?” she purred, very much like Crowley, the angel noted.
The demon took a step forward in front of Castiel, almost protectively.
“Why are you still here?” he growled, tilting his head up as he looked down at her. “Weren’t you leaving?”
“I changed my mind.” She shrugged with a mischievous grin. “I can’t leave my son all alone in these halls with all those disgusting vermin breathing down your neck, now can I?”
Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise. Crowley had a mother?
“I didn’t know you had any friends other than those hunters." The last word was emphasized, the corner of her lips curling in disgust before it was replaced with a beaming smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Aren’t you going to introduce me to your other friend?” The red haired lady tilted her body off to the side, trying to catch a better view of the stranger that her son was trying to hide from her.
“No. None of my friends need to be introduced to the likes of you,” the demon answered bluntly. Ignoring her completely, Crowley turned to face Castiel.
Using the window of opportunity, she took a peek past her son as she caught a better glimpse of the stranger that her son seemed to be shielding from her. His eyes were astonishingly blue, dark brown hair further accenting the color of his eyes, with a chiseled jaw that defined his features. But she also noticed something else. His eyes reflected an age that was old, very old, as if he was some other creature entirely. She also didn’t miss the way this stranger looked at her son. Fergus meant something to this stranger but the same went for her son, considering how protective he was being.
“I’ll text you,” the demon said as Castiel gave him a knowing nod. That's another thing about Cas - he knew when to keep his mouth shut and play along. He’d explain the details later.
Wasn't that interesting? She could see her son's expression from the reflection in those blue eyes and it was obvious to her that something was going on between the two of them.
Before she could take a closer look, Fergus lifted a hand and snapped, empty space staring back at her. Crowley had whisked the angel back to the bunker where he belonged, especially since Cas had to conserve his grace that shouldn't be wasted on teleporting. He turned back to face Rowena who was smiling back at him with that Joker smile of hers.
With a bored look on his face, he walked past her when she grabbed his elbow.
“Who was that?” she pushed again, for a clear answer this time.
Crowley snatched his arm out of her grip, scoffing at her question. “Don’t act like you care. My personal life is none of your business. In fact -” Crowley stepped threateningly into her personal space but she held her ground as his eyes glowered in the dim light, flashing like a predator as he brought his face close to hers, “ - nothing I do is your business so keep your grimy nose out of it.”
She already knew what this was about and it was enticing to see that Fergus had yet another weakness. She backed away from him, huffing, as she made her way to leave the room. “You’re right. It’s none of my business.”
Crowley raised his brow in surprise. His mother had given up much too easily. He eyed her warily in suspicion as she paused in front of the doorway.
“Fergus, it may not be my business but let me tell you something.” She paused. He squinted, her words catching his interest. “You’re no king if you can’t protect what belongs to you. I’d be careful if I were you."
Her son wasn't a king in her eyes any longer. He was too weak and that made him vulnerable. Unlike the story told in fairytales, there would be no happily ever for him. Fergus' story would end in blood and in her mind, a spectacular plan was forming. That stranger she'd seen earlier would be instrumental in her plans to end Fergus'... no - Crowley's pitiful reign. He was no longer her son and that made his life expendable.
Before Crowley had any time to even process what she had said, she was gone. His mind was tossing the words around in his head, fiddling with it, analyzing every bit of it. He made his way back to the table where the First Blade was. He picked it up as he rolled it around it in his hand mindlessly, trying to pick apart every word she had said and what it meant.
He was walking back toward his throne when he froze mid step. It was a threat. His mother had been talking about Cas.
She knew. Somehow, she knew.
They'd hardly even spoken to each other when she was in the room. Were they that easy to read? No, that wasn't it. His mother just had an uncanny eye for things. He slumped heavily onto his throne, staring off into space as he realized what this meant. Cas was a liability to him, one that he should get rid of. Killing him was off the table which meant only one thing: letting him go.
His thoughts were interrupted from the vibration in his jacket pocket as he fumbled for his phone. He smiled fondly to himself as he opened the text message. He wouldn't reply back... Cutting the angel off would be difficult but Rowena wasn't going to stop and it was his job to end her. It would be better for Cas to stay out of the way. Crowley refused to be no better than a Winchester and allow Cas to become the collateral damage in a battle that wasn't his.
Crowley glanced back down as another text message popped up on screen. He rubbed his beard thoughtfully as his hand partially hid his widening smile. Cas wasn’t making this any easier...
Bloody emojis.