Unholy Devotion

Cht 7

Sam rubbed his hand over his face at the red light, and sighed deeply. He turned the Impala into the hotel lot and parked, snatching the shopping bag out of the passenger seat and juggled it and the keys as he opened the door to the room. He tossed the keys on the TV console and placed the bag on the table, then froze.

“Hello Sam,” said Castiel, seated on the edge of the bed.

“Heya Sambo,” waved Garth as he exited the bathroom.

“Guys,” Sam said, as he released a breath he was not even aware he had been holding. “How did you--?”

“Angel flight,” said Garth. “Cas here’s got his mojo back!”

“You do?” Sam’s brow furrowed. “How?”

“One very simple spell as it turns out,” Castiel replied. “The more important question is where to find your brother and how to remove that Mark.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said wearily, dropping into the chair beside him. Garth flopped down on the foot of the bed Cas was seated on and produced a bag of chocolate covered raisins from his pocket, offering them to the angel and hunter. Each waved them away.

Sam took out the take-out Chinese from his bag and gestured to Garth with the box of fried rice to see if he wanted some. Garth simply wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

Sam sighed and dug in briefly before he began telling the men about a group of demons he had tracked into town. “So apparently, all the activity that I’ve tracked here says they’re right on the eastern edge, just off the center of town. I traced them to a series of row houses that are near an area called Devil’s Path…?” He looked questioningly at Castiel.

The angel nodded, “I know of it, there was an old hell gate there that was closed by hunters a century or so ago. Dean may be trying to open it; I’m not sure why he would do that.”

“Because he wants in the back door to hell,” Crowley said from the back of the room. Sam’s head snapped up and Castiel stood. Garth nearly fell off the bed and staggered closer to Sam and Cas.

“You!” Sam moved for a weapon before the girl in Crowley’s arms stirred and caught his attention.

“Hallo boys,” Crowley said grimly, taking the girl he was cradling over to the bed and settling her in it. She opened her eyes and looked at Crowley with a drowsy reverence and asked, “where are we?”

“Safe,” he replied, running the tips of his fingers through the auburn hair. He kissed her softly, touched two fingers to her forehead and said, “sleep.” Then he rose and faced the incredulous men in the room, two of them silently fuming.

Crowley raised both hands in surrender and said, “we should talk.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Crowley and Sam stammered angrily but Crowley plowed on, “I didn’t know what effect taking the Mark would do to your brother. I didn’t even suspect until your brother turned down a bloody cheeseburger, alright?!”

He took a breath, then continued in a calmer tone. “Look, I know there have been cock-ups aplenty. Cain himself tried to talk your pig-headed brother out of taking the Mark. He even told him there would be terrible consequences but Squirrel wasn’t hearing any of it. He made his bed and now he’s lying in it. And it wasn’t near as much fun as I thought it might.” He finished that last almost under his breath, grudgingly admitting that things had not gone the way he had planned. It was this though that convinced Sam to believe him.

Sam slowly sat again, never taking his eyes off Crowley. “So who’s the girl?”

“A friend,” Crowley said simply, then grudgingly at Sam’s raised eyebrows, “a very dear friend.”

“She looks like a vampire got her,” Garth spoke from his perch on the TV table. “Multiple times.”

“It was no vampire,” Crowley growled, “one of those fanged beasties couldn’t take her. It was your bloody brother, Moose! I should never have let her go after him.”

Sam looked at her neck, and the truth dawned on him. “Was she a demon?!”

“Was.” The demon king replied grimly. He sat on the edge of the bed beside the sleeping human, and Sam marveled at the unguarded emotion on Crowley’s face.

“You’re in love with her,” Sam accused.

The pained look Crowley shot him spoke volumes. “You did this to me, you know,” Crowley said by way of reply. “I hadn’t cared for anyone for centuries…bloody Moose!” He eyes teared up, Adam’s apple bobbed and the words got stuck in his throat. “I needed someone,” he said helplessly. “I thought maybe…when your brother woke… He was more demon than human. I, more human than demon…” Crowley trailed off, unsure how to continue, but Sam heard the words unspoken.

“I made you feel again.”

“You made me feel all the nasty human emotions that get tortured out of you in hell,” Crowley groaned. “I felt yearning and loneliness, remorse and guilt—everything I had been able to forget for years.”

Crowley slid to the floor beside the bed. He passed his hands over his face and ran them through his hair, utterly helpless. “Knowing now,” he said, still choking on the words, “how that felt for me. I know it must be a thousand times worse for her.” He looked up at Sam through tear-swollen eyes. “Your thrice-cursed brother knew what human feelings do to someone, and he bloody cured her! Then they tortured her. Demons can stand so much more abuse than humans, and he made sure the worst of the pain was after the cure.” The hands he had dropped to his knees fisted themselves in anger. “Now he will feel that pain—that remorse and that wrenching guilt for what he did to her. We bring Cain to cure him.”

“Cain?” Castiel spoke up. “Cain is the one who-“

“The one who giveth is the one who can taketh away,” Crowley cut in, his voice now stronger with resolve. “Cain wanted Dean to return to him anyway, but since ‘Demon Dean’ won’t do it, we’ll bring the battle to him.”

“What will Cain do?” Sam asked tersely. “He’s a demon too! How can we trust him?”

“Cain no longer wants to be a demon. We found that out when we talked. He was married, and Abaddon tricked him into murdering his wife. He would rather rest with her. Cain wants to die.”

“So if we get Cain to Dean. He can remove the Mark and we’ll kill him in exchange for helping us?” Garth marveled, scratching his head. “Seems like kind of a raw deal.”

“Believe me,” Crowley said grimly, “after millennia without love, death is nowt but a release.”