Chapter Text
As soon as Crowley opened his eyes and found himself in that other world, he knew something was wrong. First of all, and perhaps most importantly, he wasn’t supposed to be alive anymore. He was sure he did the sacrificial spell to close the portal flawlessly, as confirmed by the lack of any nearby tear between dimensions. He double checked if he was still in the place where he faced Lucifer and yes, he was. But secondly, he clearly remembered the pain of dying, of being ripped apart to atoms while his consciousness was fading away. Any attempt to remember what happened next led him to an inexplicable sense of dread and the feeling that he just woke up when he really shouldn’t have. That being said, it was hard to argue with clear facts and he couldn’t complain about being alive again.
He wondered if he bought enough time for those two pesky hunters to do their thing. He also hoped he wouldn’t have the displeasure of running into Lucifer again, especially after thwarting the archangel’s plans. He cracked a smile to himself. Even if the price had been agonizing death, it had been nice to witness that arrogant bastard utterly lose to him again. All he had to do now was avoid him forever, no matter if they were in the same world or not. Speaking of which, he needed to find out more precisely where he was and why.
“Good morning, darling” a familiar face greeted him from behind. He turned around and saw a redhead whose mature face still didn’t even begin to show her real age. Her eyes and mouth presented her usual devious smile.
“What are you doing here?” the demon asked, trying to keep his shock off his face. He was sure she hadn’t been there seconds ago. She was impossible to miss after all.
“That’s a peculiar way to thank me for saving you.”
“You… brought me back? That’s impossible!”
“Aye, it wasn’t easy with how little of your energy was left, but even so, how come you’re underestimating me? Do you not know who I am?”
Since the truth was obvious, Crowley scoffed. It wasn’t that he doubted the witch’s abilities to do anything she desired, he just knew it wasn’t something she wouldn’t do without a bigger gain for her. “Skip the pleasantries, they don’t suit you. What is it that you want from me?”
“Just to talk this time,” she replied, sounding genuine.
Crowley still couldn’t believe his ears. Did she really come to this world to revive him and now she was only asking to chat? It was true that she was his mother, but they have been enemies for their entire lives, which had both been very long. They would do anything to get rid of each other, not the opposite. Something unexpected blossomed in his heart. Was he… grateful to her? Did she just act like a proper mother for the first time in centuries, if not ever? It sounded like a miracle, but here he was in flesh and blood.
“Well then, I could give some answers, but don’t cross the line with your curiosities,” he said coldly, wishing to hide his moment of weakness.
She giggled. “You have no class, no manners… Who raised a brat like you?” There she was again, taunting him already.
“You’re bloody lucky that your magic skills far exceed your ability to make jokes,” he replied with a groan.
A threatening frown appeared on her face and he started wondering if he hadn't gone too far. He was no stranger to swallowing his pride when that was a good idea for survival, but it was easier said than done around Rowena. She was irking him so much through her mere presence that he had started leaving his guard down around her. Despite how powerful she was as an enemy, oftentimes he only wanted to hurt her since that was what she really deserved.
“Who do you think you are to speak to me like this?” she asked. He could only look back at her with confusion since that wasn't even close to the worst thing he ever said to her, yet she never exploded like this. “You are nothing but a primal demon!”
“A primal…” He stopped and shook his head, finally broken out from the surprise. It really was Rowena after all, what else did he expect? “That’s not an insult I heard before, not even…”
Before he could finish saying “Not even from you”, she clenched her fist and he felt his heart hurting as if it was about to burst. Of course, such a thing wasn't really going to kill him, but that fact wasn't making the situation any less excruciating to experience. Anyway, what interested him more was how she was doing that without an incantation at least. Through his tears he could finally see a glimmer of something he was familiar with. It was a magical chain going from her hand to his neck, one that made him susceptible to alterations in his perception. Ah, that explained why he hadn't noticed her until she revealed herself and how she was making him feel like he was dying despite no new magical force being applied to his body. She must have chained him while reviving him just in case, that crafty wench… But despite figuring out all that, he still found himself on his knees from the illusion of pain.
“You should know that you’d already be maggot food again if I hadn’t already put in more effort to get you back in one piece than I’m willing to waste. Of course, that doesn’t mean you should push your luck,” she said, towering over him.
He decided to not reveal that he already knew her trick. As she stopped tormenting him for the moment, the glimmer of the chain became impossible to see anymore.
“That’s one way to make your point,” he said with a short cough.
“It is indeed one of my many strengths. Now let’s start from the beginning. What were you doing casting a rift sealing spell?”
“What a lucky guess…”
“It’s not a guess at all. I could feel its energy from much further than I felt yours. It made me very curious. Why would a demon sacrifice itself to close a rift?”
He groaned. “Did you really not hear about what I was doing? I was keeping Lucifer away from the bloody Winchesters and that nephilim headache freshly unleashed upon the world!”
“Lucifer? Oh my, that is an impressively stupid excuse.” Any sign of a smile disappeared from her face. “I’ll give you just one more chance, after that real pain will find the way to you!”
“This is some baffling behavior even by your standards! You know damn well how much of a threat Lucifer is at this point!”
“Lucifer? A threat?” She let out a glacial giggle. “The same Lucifer killed by Michael years ago? What a story…”
With those words, Crowley finally pieced all the puzzle pieces together. Was this not the Rowena of his world? His heart sank. It turned out his savior was not his mother, but just a stranger that looked like her. No, perhaps that wasn’t accurate either. The Rowena of this world could be similar to the one he knew, for better or worse… probably the latter. Any version of her was bound to be dangerous, especially one whose goals didn’t align with his own. All that was to say that there was nothing miraculous about his revival after all.
He tried to leave his meatsuit to run away from her and he immediately felt that magic chain pulling him back. He didn’t remember that spell having such a functionality, but Rowena could be an innovator when it came to magic so he wasn't surprised, just disappointed and more scared than he would have liked. On top of it, this situation was very frustrating. What was the point of having these damned demon powers if he couldn’t use them when he needed it the most? He looked at Rowena and caught the satisfied glimpse in her eyes. He was already like a mouse in a trap next to an exceptionally sadistic cat.
“Ah, I’m not surprised you are prepared for everything,” he said, hoping she’d unintentionally let out a weakness in her strategy.
She giggled again. “That’s always the smart thing to do. You primal demons are not as powerful as the others, but why leave the door open for surprises either way? Anyway, why would you even try to flee from me? Was your smokey interior acting out in pure fear or are we supposed to know each other?”
“I’m your son!” he wanted to say, but knew better than that. It was very likely that even in another world such a bond wouldn't help him. “Fergus” might not even exist here or he might be Rowena’s enemy once again. Crowley couldn't imagine any version of him getting along with the self centered, power hungry mother who abandoned him centuries ago and only made his life harder once she came back into the picture. He considered at least telling her that he was the king of hell, but what was a king without his crown and so much of his power left behind in the other world? And hadn't he just resigned that role back in his own world?
“I’m… just a demon,” he said unhappily.
She scoffed. “This is why I don’t like interrogating people, you take so long answering the easiest questions!”
“Really? I was under the impression that you love inflicting pain on people, so you should be an expert on interrogations,” he replied, remembering at the last second to hide the irony.
“Why, thank you, but my torture strategies are nothing compared to the craftsmanship shown by my lovely king.“
A dreadful feeling appeared in Crowley’s heart. “What kind of king?” he inquired.
“The king of hell, naturally!” she replied with a proud smile.
Crowley was left speechless, unhappy that his instinct was right. With the Lucifer of this world dead, who else would Rowena be so happy to follow, especially in hell? Moreover, the idea of meeting another king of hell disgusted him. He might have resigned in his own world, but that didn’t mean he wanted to bow to probably some new dimwit who ran the show on raw power and fear.
“I’m sure he’ll be just as interested as me to hear your answers, so we shouldn’t keep him waiting,” Rowena continued as she started walking confidently.
Crowley half agreed since the heat of the dessert was beginning to make him just as uncomfortable as the witch staring at him. There was no use delaying that inevitable meeting, especially when he saw the shimmer of the chain, a clear sign that Rowena was getting ready to use it again. He hurried to nod and to voluntarily take a step behind her - well, not voluntarily in the true sense of the word, but what better choice did he have? At the very least, the witch seemed in a slightly better mood now and way less talkative, which allowed him to start thinking about what he could do to get out of his predicament. He needed to be prepared for the worst since that was probably what was awaiting him wherever she was leading him.
Eventually, he started looking around him. Much of this world seemed like a miserable desert, but there were still some areas in the distance with trees and big rocks that seemed potentially useful for hiding if he could make a run for it. Unfortunately, he was painfully aware that Rowena might not be the only threat lurking around. Even if she somehow lost his trace and Lucifer happened to not be in this world anymore, who knew who and what else could jump at him? Perhaps trying to prove his usefulness to that disgusting king of hell was the best way to get decent opportunities in this place.
Ah, this place… How was this world called? Did the Winchester boys ever give it a name? He wasn’t even sure how to describe it concisely, but he was already sick of how his eyes were hurting from this unrelenting sun and its reflections in the huge blades emerged from the ground. Everything was too bright. He let out a small sigh. “Bright world” will have to suffice for now since he wasn’t going to waste any more time wondering about it.
After a few more minutes of walking in peace, Rowena stopped in front of what seemed to be just rubble. She lifted her hand, which made the air move like waves and revealed the hidden gate to hell, along with its guard. The entity looked human enough, but he had bull horns on his head and long, black nails. If it wasn’t for his equally black eyes and his positioning, Crowley wouldn’t begin to guess that this was an actual demon. Things were shaping up to be too different in this world for his comfort… or were they? After the creature bowed to Rowena and opened the gate, Crowley found himself walking through a deceptively short hallway to the actual hell that he knew and despised. This was all familiar to him, so it was comforting to see some things being the same around here… though Rowena being the same witch he knew had the opposite effect.
He saw other demons walking around too, but not all of them were the same as the one at the entrance. Some lacked the nails, others had different horns or none at all, and a few had their eyes not permanently black. Either way, no hunter would confuse them for normal humans, so Crowley began understanding why Rowena kept calling him a “primal demon”. The bad news for him was that he was feeling a lot of power coming from them, potentially more than from himself, and these were just the common goons. Whatever happened to this world seemed to affect everything living here, including demons, and that was going to be one more hassle to keep in mind.
He felt a jolt on the back of his neck that made him wince. He looked at the obvious source of that, the witch getting his attention after she stopped in front of a door that was beautifully decorated with a few roses, thorns included and highlighted with slightly peeled gold.
“You better be respectful from now on if you want to keep this human body and not… let’s say a mouse one,” she said.
“That would be nothing new for me,” Crowley confessed, hoping that would make him seem less dangerous to whoever this king of hell was.
Rowena giggled. “Don’t you think that some bad jokes will keep your tongue from being cut off if you’re going to be less than charming company to him.”
Crowley couldn’t disagree with her, so he took in a big breath while she turned to the demon guarding this door.
The minion looked back at her fearfully.
“He’s not free right now, miss.” For a brief moment, flames were visible in his mouth as he talked, which left a little bit of non demonic smoke escaping the body. Crowley had never seen anything like that.
“Is he still in that strategic meeting?” the witch asked.
“Yes, miss.”
“Ah, nothing ever gets resolved like that anyway! Now be a sweetheart, will you?”
The guard bowed and began opening the door, giving Crowley a few more moments of guessing who was the bastard that must have his position in this bright world. The probably still alive options were only slightly worse than Lucifer himself, of course, but still not ideal. From Cain to Asmodeus or a brand new star, they wouldn’t have weaknesses he could easily exploit. That meant he had to make himself seem at least useful enough to escape immediate death, but easier said than done.
He was dragged into the new room and felt a knot in his throat when he heard the door locking behind him. He hid his nervousness as well as he usually did and discreetly looked around. The throne room was bigger than expected, but that didn’t mean it was empty in the slightest. On the ground there were plenty of drawers, chests and shelves occupied by various weapons and witchcraft materials. The walls were also busy with skulls of both creatures he recognized and some that seemed humanoid, but they were somehow wrong. In between them there were lots of sigils and other symbols painted in various liquids, most of them being for angel protection from what he knew about the topic.
But none of that was as surprising as the person sitting on the throne in front of him. His nails were dark, seemingly sharp, and a purple line scarred his face on the right side, precisely under his eye, but other than that it was exactly as Crowley remembered it. His old body, the one he discarded a long time ago and never looked back. The one Rowena would still recognize as her son, the one he had despised for reminding him of their blood bond. Despite the ridiculous situation he was in, Crowley couldn’t help but sketch a proud smile. He was really making it to the top in every universe.
“Mother, I’m sure that you were told I’m busy right now,” his self on the throne said in a bored tone. Crowley was taken aback by the sound of his old voice sounding way less wimpy than he remembered.
“Oh, Fergus, but I knew it’s just a lie, unless the other demons in the meeting somehow gained the power of invisibility” Rowena replied.
The other shrugged. “There’s only that many times I can listen to them complaining about new angel sightings and a lack of new proper meatsuits.”
The witch smirked with satisfaction. “I thought that much. “Fear not, my dear, I might have brought you something to shake up the routine.”
“You mean that bloke next to you? What makes a worm like him noteworthy?”
“Hmm, judging by his strange energy and the rift closing spell he surely is, not to mention his lack of common sense… I’d say we got a visitor from another world on our hands.”
Crowley barely stopped himself from flinching and showing his anger. So she knew all along that he wasn’t from this world, yet tortured him for talking about a Lucifer from another world? Such a lowly behavior sure suited her, but it didn’t make being on the receiving of it feel any better. But, on the bright side, that meant they would both believe him and his origin would make him at least interesting enough to keep alive, even without telling the whole story.
The other Crowley straightened his back. “Who are you in your world?” he asked, looking at him.
For a second, Crowley hesitated. Could it be a good idea to reveal the truth after all? What would be his reaction to seeing someone claim to be his other self from another world. Probably throw him in a high security prison cell to avoid being tricked by someone potentially as smart as himself. He almost laughed at himself. Of course going to the safe answer was the best option, why did he doubt that at all?
He put on a serious facial expression and a polite tone of voice. “Name’s Boris Badenov.” He threw in one of his charming smiles for good measure. “It’s a pleasure to make acquaintances with you.”
“That name does not match your accent.”
“I traveled a lot in my life. Only this accent stuck.”
“It sounds like you have a lot of stories to tell.”
“Oh, me? Hardly. I stay out of trouble as much as a demon can.”
“Is that so?” Rowena interfered. “How come someone who stays out of trouble gets entangled with another version of Lucifer? In fact, it sounded like you met your end because of it!”
Crowley wanted to bite his tongue for letting that slip earlier and decided to not correct her that his cause of death was more likely the cooperation with the Winchesters.
“Does that mean that you brought here the Lucifer of your world?” the one sitting on the throne asked. He sounded calm, but the demon knew himself too well to not guess the anger that question evoked.
“No, I did not bring him here,'' Crowley hurried to reply. He liked when he could give answers that were so simply true. He only followed Lucifer to this world, but maybe it was better if the others thought that meant he left the archangel on the other side. He would have to wait for a reaction to know for sure if Satan was any more liked on this side of the portal, but he suspected that a weakling that lost to Michael wouldn’t be too revered. Both himself and Rowena gravitated towards the safe bets as much as possible.
Crowley took an extra moment to ponder on his sacrifice. Had that really helped or was Lucifer back in his world already? What was the outcome he was hoping for now that he was stuck in the same world he tried to seal the archangel in? Either way, he hoped that Sam and Dean did something thanks to his sacrifice. Those hunters could fumble the bag in spectacular ways just as easily as they could pull the most unexpected wins.
“You’re awfully hesitant to give straightforward answers,” the king noticed. “If you like the places where your organs are right now, I suggest you start telling me who you are and what are your intentions.”
Crowley was not completely sure if reciting his freshly baked fake life story was the best idea. He hadn’t expected to face himself like this. Would his double not see right through his lies? He knew he would if the roles were reversed. At the same time, it was still the best option he had. It beat having this other Crowley thinking he might be after his throne. He couldn’t afford being seen as a potential rival. And what about the fact that he could be blamed for bringing Lucifer into this world? It didn’t seem like something his captors would be grateful for, especially if they were having angel problems, by the sounds of it. Some embellishments were needed, but not too many.
So he started talking. He was a demon from another world - that couldn’t be helped. A rift appeared in his own world and he selflessly sacrificed himself to close it before angels would pour in.
“How odd,” the other demon interrupted him right away. “You don’t speak with the conviction of a hero.”
“I don’t like to brag about it,” Crowley replied.
“Humbleness doesn’t fit someone with that spark in your eyes.”
“I beg your pardon? What kind of spark?”
“The one that’s full of ambition and won’t accept a complete defeat, just a temporary retreat.”
Crowley only needed to look into the other demon’s eyes to see why he was speaking so confidently about this. His other self had the same look, just slightly more intense, matching the fire visible in his mouth when he spoke and the thick smoke coming out of it. Convincing this guy that he wasn’t a threat could indeed be a big challenge.
“I didn’t take the decision to sacrifice myself lightly,” he admitted. “I didn’t do it out of some heroic conviction.”
“Then why did you do it?”
His life flashed before his eyes. After a few years of being berated by his mother, he had been abandoned by her. The only way he even survived on his own was by doing plenty of odd and unpleasant jobs in return for what he needed. For a significant number of years, he found himself in one deplorable situation after another, only pulling through thanks to some of the few things his mother ever taught him. A few simple spells went a long way, especially if they were so discreetly and sparingly used that no one thought anything strange even happened. After a long time, he finally got himself a place he could call home and even a son who didn’t manage to fill the hole in his heart. Since a disappointment never comes alone, his material comfort was taken away as soon as some old enemies tracked him down. After barely escaping alive, he remembered that it wasn’t only witches that were real, but also demons. He knew that making deals with them was generally a bad idea, but there could be a lot of things you could ask them for, including power of many types. So he did his best to get a good deal, but at the time he was new at it so he was mostly screwed over by the crossroad demon. The rest of his human life was not as good as he was promised, but not as bad as it had been up to that point at least.
Things became predictably awful once again when his time was up and his soul was dragged to hell. But as he felt his being changing into something different, something more dangerous, he found a new reason to hope. With enough resilience, he pushed through his worst time in hell and ended up as a crossroads demon himself, knowing little about how to make a deal but being willing to learn. A few centuries of working in peace gave him the much needed experience of becoming smarter and enough connections to strike eventually. As he got promotion after promotion, either through his promises or clean murders, he finally found himself at the top of the food chain. He was finally the king of hell.
At first, he was happy about it. He wasn’t feeling any safer than before, but at least he knew he now had the power to deal with most of the threats coming his way. Still, that was just another sign of how not as much as he wanted even changed. Even worse, he still found himself alone, with no one he could trust. He still got rejected every time he reached out, both by his worthless returned mother and the demon-hating Winchesters. Existence had always been a constant fight with no rewards for him, so the most he could do was go out in a way that would let him be remembered. And as much as he hated to admit it, at that point he cared about certain people even if they didn’t care about him back, so he protected them.
“I was… tired,” he replied.
“You gave up on living because you were tired?” the other demon replied.
Crowley chuckled. “More or less, though I wouldn’t say I gave up. Life in that world just never felt like it had a purpose. Either way, I’m sure you can understand it.”
“No. I always had a purpose that kept me going.”
“Hmm, I suppose I got luckier in this life” Crowley mumbled.
The one on the throne raised his eyebrows. “Speak louder if you don’t want to lose your tongue in an unfortunate accident.”
Crowley knew he needed to grovel for a little bit, so he put on a shy smile. “I meant to say that I could be a very useful helper. There’s much I know from my original world that might be of interest to you.”
“And how would you know what I need if you’re not from around here? It all seems like empty words to me.”
“I… knew you in the other world. I know that version of you very well and saved his skin many times.”
“Then you should know my name, isn’t that right, Mr. Badenov?”
“Naturally. It’s Crowley.”
The other frowned and teleported next to him. A knife that he suddenly had in his hand touched Crowley’s chin. “Wrong answer. Are you daring to lie about being my ally in the other world?”
“No, that’s not it” Crowley hurried to say. The cold blade was uncomfortably pushing on his skin as he talked, so he had to keep his answers short. Was this not actually himself, but a demon wearing him? No, there was something familiar in that demeanor, in that way of speaking, in the way he was standing… Crowley was sure about his identity, but the only way the name could be wrong was one he despised. Against his better judgment, he chuckled. “No way… You’re not being serious about it, are you?”
The other demon looked at him with confusion. “I’m not sure you understand the situation you are in.”
“Oh, I do… I just didn’t expect you to still go by the name Fergus.”
His other self chuckled too with an uncanny similarity “Maybe there’s some truth to what you’re saying.” He retracted his knife and looked at Rowena. “What an interesting fellow you brought me… Thank you, mother.” The witch smiled at her son with a genuine warmth that Crowley had never seen directed at himself. “For now I have something else to prepare, so would you mind taking our guest to our most comfortably secured cell?”
“Of course, my dear” Rowena replied and instantly nudged Crowley to follow her out of the room, still as an unhappy captive.
The demon tried to pay attention to the hallways he was passing through in case he’d get an opportunity to run away, but he could barely focus on any of that. The even more important maze to navigate was how close this Rowena was to his version in this world. What exactly was her relationship with “Fergus”? She was being pleasant to him, but what if that was just an act? It didn’t seem like the way she was usually faking it, but who could be sure when it came to her. Was she willingly working for her son in this world or was she once again forced into it? Crowley needed to find out fast. Whether she was an enemy or a potential ally was one of the most important aspects of this situation.
Putting that aside, he was feeling weirdly cheerful after the conversation with himself. It had gone as well as it could have, which made him think that perhaps this was one more chance for him. It could have been a foolish delusion, but the fact he was still alive was a miracle in itself. What if he grinded his teeth one more time he could finally find happiness? As long as his other self wasn’t going to behead him immediately, there were a few things he could try. Yes, he was tired, but he was also the bloody former king of hell. After going out in the first life with some fireworks, he wasn’t going to drop the standards for this life.
