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It should have been an easy task: find Crowley, drag him to the bunker, and get him to do what they wanted. But after Crowley didn't answer any calls, Castiel expected trouble. So, he came prepared. With a swift motion, he led his angel blade slide into his hand, ready to strike at everything that tried to come between him and the demon as he sprinted through the labyrinthian corridors. He was guided by the screams and swears of a very familiar voice echoing off the walls.
When he came closer to his goal, Castiel could hear other voices shouting in sing-song. Latin, he noticed with a bad feeling.
And the reason became clear as soon as he turned the corner and entered a small chamber. A pair of Catholic priests stood between him and Crowley, who sat in a chair in the middle of the room. They had their backs turned towards him, giving Castiel time to observe the situation more closely instead of jumping directly into a fight.
The room was lighted by an army of candles, which illuminated sigils on the walls and the floor. A circle was drawn around Crowley's chair, but Castiel didn't recognise it. If it was supposed to be a Devil's trap, they did it completely wrong. The same went for the sigils. What exactly was going on here?
"Go back, demon! From where you came from! Into the depths of Hell!" the older of the priests shouted in English before switching back to chanting in Latin again, changing Castiel's attention back to the strange trio.
As an answer to the priest, Crowley's screaming rose to a new high like he was burned alive, cursing and swearing even more colourful. His body rebelled against the ropes that tied him to the chair, and he spat on the ground, at the priests, and foamed at the mouth. His eyes glowed red, emitting blood-red fog, while he smiled and laughed like a maniac between the screams.
It must have been an unsettling sight to the priests, but Castiel could see more and most importantly, he could see the true demon inside the human vessel. And the smoke-clouded creature cackled in delight, undisturbed by this so-called exorcism.
Castiel put the sword away.
This has attracted Crowley's attention as he stared at him. His face lit up and he must have decided to invite Castiel into this because he fruitlessly tried to push himself in the opposite direction, this time crying in fear.
The priests turned around, crosses and rosaries raised to defend themselves. They gauged at Castiel, probably rather confused at the lack of horns, leather wings, or black attire.
He locked eyes with Crowley, who allowed himself the littlest of smirks. A challenge.
Castiel was inclined to just leave and come back later when this was all over. But he had a job to do.
He sighed and gathered his Grace until his eyes glowed blue. The light inside the chamber retreated into the corners as the candles dimmed down and his wings threw shadows on the wall behind him.
The priests crossed themselves and began to prey as they retreated with fear and awe.
"I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord. I've heard your prayer and I'm here to save this poor soul from the clutches of Hell!" he bellowed, making the priests fall to their knees, heads bent down, hands clasped to their chests.
Crowley looked like he would die of laughter. Gathering himself he, started his charade again, this time pleading and begging for mercy. God, Castiel wished this was true.
"Silence! Foul fiend! You've done your dark deeds long enough on this earth!" Castiel closed the distance in strides and put his hand on Crowley's forehead. The demon twitched at the touch. "Leave this body! This soul belongs to God!"
He could feel Crowley chuckle under his hand before he started screaming again and convulsed until his body went limp.
It went completely silent inside the chamber, the priests held their breath as they watched Castiel, who waited impatiently for Crowley to continue.
Finally, the demon took a deep breath, opened his eyes, now hazel in colour, and looked around the room with confusion. "Where- where am I?" He looked up to Castiel with adoration and something far less innocent and licked his lips. "Thank you," he breathed and only the younger priest exclaiming to praise the Lord reminded Castiel of the presence of others.
He exhaled and released his Grace. The candles came back to life.
Castiel turned towards the priests. "Go! And bear witness to everything you saw here tonight!"
They didn't need to be told twice and a heartbeat later, they were alone.
Crowley was still watching Castiel closely, radiating smug satisfaction.
"What was that?"
"What did it look like? An incompetently performed exorcism, done by fanatic dimwits."
"I've got that. I was talking about you."
Crowley shrugged. "I was bored. And you wouldn't believe how easy it is to find a bunch of priests, who mistake "The Exorcist" for a manual."
"That's all?" With Crowley, there was always a catch.
"And maybe I would have scared the living shit out of them to show them how powerless they really are. And to offer a bargain for their souls to remedy this, of course."
He tugged at his restraints. "Care to free me?"
"You can teleport. The Devil's trap is fake."
"It's about the gesture, feathers. Don't be rude. You need me for something or were you looking for me because you missed me?" He side-eyed Castiel. "Unless you like what you see. I won't mind some fun with ropes," he purred.
Ideas flooded Castiel's mind, and he did contemplate leaving them on for a split second, before regretfully cutting the ropes. He had a job to do.
"Your help is much appreciated," Crowley said as he put his clothes back in order. "Excellent exorcism. Almost made me jump out of my- well, not my meat suit, but definitely my clothes. 66/10, would get exorcised again." He put his fingers on Castiel's face, following his jawline with a featherlight touch. "Care to put your hands on me again?"
"We're done here." Castiel briskly walked towards the door, ignoring the gushing of blood in his ears and the tingling sensation where Crowley had touched him.
And stopped when Crowley teleported directly in front of him and put his arms around Castiel's waist. A hint of sulfur lingered in the air.
"I've meant it. You can suck out my soul anytime."
"You don't have a soul."
Crowley's hands wandered under his coat, along the lower part of his back. He pressed his body against Castiel's before he spoke again. "Suck whatever you want then, I'm not choosy."
Crowley's breath was hot on his face and as Crowley's fingers slid under his shirt, Castiel decided that the job could wait.
Castiel grabbed Crowley by the shoulders and slammed him against the nearest wall. "You will beg sincerely this time."
"Make me."
Castiel didn't need to be asked twice.