Chapter Text
Crowley loved his Hellhounds, especially Juliet. Dean could almost find it adorable how attached he was to the creatures. How he spoke to them. There was just one problem. Dean hated hellhounds. Well, it wasn't really just hatred, sure they killed people but some of them deserved it and they did bring the problem onto themselves. Dean was terrified of hellhounds.
Ever since he was dragged to hell by one. It was one of the frequent things that filled his nightmares. The Hellhounds claws digging into his skin, ripping his flesh apart. The smell of its breath, the sounds of the Hellhound while your end was nearing.
So yeah, Dean was not in any way a fan of Hellhounds. That fact definitely brought up some issues while dating the King of Hell. Dean made sure to hide the fact that Hellhounds bothered him so much. If one was a part of a hunt he would act just as freaked out as Sam, not like it's that out of the ordinary to be concerned when there's a Hellhound around. Crowley didn't seem to suspect anything. He was still his flirty, annoying, stuck up self, who came to his bed every night and held him as he slept.
That was what led to Crowley finally learning the truth. Even though Crowley didn't need sleep he enjoyed laying in bed next to Dean, watching over him as he slept. When Dean asked him about it Crowley would often brush it off or give some snarky response, cause yeah, an intruder managing to sneak into the bunker and kill him in his sleep was totally possible. Dean eventually stopped seeing it as weird and a bit creepy and started seeing it as sweet. Of course he would never say that out loud. Crowley would probably gut him if he so much as suggested it.
Dean had just crawled into bed after a long hunt, exhausted, and not bothering to do anything then wash the blood off of his hands and face (why couldn't killing vampires be a cleaner process) and fall out of his clothes. When he felt the familiar presence at his back he didn't react, just relaxed into the comforting heat.
But then he heard it.
The ragged breathing that brought death and pain. The strong smell of sulfur, more than the faint smell of it that Crowley had that Dean had gotten used to. No, this was overpowering. It filled the room and Dean tensed. “Crowley,” Dean started in a quiet voice. “What is that?”
“Juliet was injured on a contract run today. Chasing after a car of all things. I don't want to leave her alone or in Hell's kennels while she's healing so I figured that she could sleep on the floor for tonight.”
Dean had to suppress a whimper. A Hellhound in his room, while he was sleeping and vulnerable. He thought that Crolwey was there to protect him from things that would hurt him. Now he was just inviting one in, not a care in the world. He didn't even realize that his breathing had started to speed up until he finally heard Crowley talking.
“Dean, what's wrong? Are you injured?”
That made all of the exhaustion that Dean was feeling minutes ago disappear in an instant. Dean hopped out of bed and stood on shaky legs on the opposite side of the bed as the beast. The beast that he couldn't see, wouldn't see come after him, jump over the bed, rip him to pieces.
“Why the fuck would you think it would be ok to bring that monster in here?”
“Dean apologize to Juliet right now, you're going to hurt her feelings.”
Feelings. Feelings! Crowley, the king of fiucking hell, a demon, was giving Dean a lecture on hurting something’s feelings. “Apologize to it!?”
“She Dean, not it.” Crowley was starting to get visibly mad and Juliet let out a small bark in agreement. This time Dean couldn't suppress the whimper at hearing Juliet. It was low and pathetic to his own ears. Dean could feel his eyes starting to water and he couldn't believe that he was finally letting Crowley see the truth. Couldn't believe that this was how it happened.
In a blink of an eye Crowley was in front of him gathering Dean into his arms. He sagged against the smaller man and even though it was an awkward position Dean hid his head in the crook of Crowley's shoulder. “Please get her out of here. Please.” Dean was practically sobbing the words out even though he hadn't let his tears fall yet.
Crowley hated seeing Dean so upset, so shaken. It was an unnerving sight. Seeing his strong hunter so broken and not understanding why. He figured that Juliet could handle herself, Dean needed him right now, and clearly her presence was the cause of his distress. Crowley didn't like it but he snapped and sent Juliet back to his bedchambers in hell.
Even though he was the shorter of the pair Crowley was much stronger being a demon and all so he easily picked Dean up and brought him back over to the bed. He sat down with his back against the headboard with his lap full of distraught hunter, both their arms wrapped tightly around the other. Crowley shushed him and ran what he hoped was a comforting hand up and down his back. When Dean seemed to have calmed down mostly, Crowley spoke up, “Dean could you please tell me what's wrong? Why Juliet seemed to make you so upset.”
Dean's arms managed to tighten even more somehow but he lifted his head enough so that his words wouldn't be too muffled by Crowley's shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have freaked out. It shouldn't have bothered me. I'm sorry.”
“You don't need to apologize for freaking out, that's not what I'm upset about. I just want to know the reason.”
“You know how I went to hell?” Dean slowly asked.
“Yes.” Everyone in Hell knew the story of how Dean Winchester went to Hell. When the righteous man shed blood in Hell. Dean had ended up there after he made a deal to bring Sam back to life. Realization started to draw in Crowley's mind. “A Hellhound dragged you down.”
Dean didn't answer. He couldn't, the words were just stuck in his throat no matter how hard he tried to force them out. “I’m so sorry Dean. I should have realized that you wouldn't have been comfortable with Juliet here.”
Dean finally got his voice to work. “No, it's not your fault. It’s not like you could have known, not like I told you or anyone else.”
Crowley didn’t respond, just kept on holding Dean and rubbing his back. Eventually Dean's breath evened out and he was obviously asleep but Crowley just laid them down, pulling the blanket around them, and continued the movements against his side. Crowley knew that he would need to come up with some sort of solution. His Hellhounds were important to him, especially Juliet. He loved Dean but he couldn't just give up Juliet.