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Chapter Text

Sam wasn’t sure when he had started to trust Crowley or even view him as a friend, but somehow it happened without his consent. For the first time in over five years, he started to trust a demon again.

They shared hidden looks, smiles, and conversations. His phone held numerous messages between the two, often just to check in on the other.

A few weeks ago, the thought would have made him smile to himself. Now, it only served to remind him how foolish he had been.

Angry tears burned his eyes as he looked at the message on his phone, something heavy forming in his chest as the world seemed to slow down around him.

Sam, I want you to know that none of this was my intention. I was never certain that the mark would turn your brother into a demon. There were rumors, but no one was for sure.

“Always trying to save your-“ Sam hisses to himself, before stopping as he remembers Crowley standing in front of an Angel for him, punching the intruder in the face. He clenches his eyes shut as more tears fill his eyes, all the anger rolling away and leaving a sensation of defeat and hurt. He re-opened his eyes when his phone dinged again, a new message awaiting him that only made his conflicted feelings worsen.

I should have told you sooner, darling, and I am sorry that I didn’t.

Sam reads the message, that familiar since of uncertainty hitting him. He reads the apology, the recognizable sense of numbness hitting him as he stares at the message unseeingly, wishing he had the energy to send a condescending message back. Part of him wants to lash out and let his scathing words cause the pain, but another part of him wants to ask why. He wants to know why Crowley didn’t tell him about anything, despite Sam trying to get ahold of him for nearly three weeks. He wants to ask why Crowley had kept such a secret from him when the two had grown so close.

But he’s too tired to ask those questions. He’s too emotionally drained to let himself be vulnerable with a demon who had thrown away his trust like it meant nothing.

At the end of the day, Sam doesn’t know what he’s most disappointed in; Crowley for betraying his trust and friendship, or himself, for falling for a demon’s manipulations again.

Since he was Sam Winchester and he had experienced disappointing people for years, he found it easier to be disappointed in himself.

I’m sorry you had to find out that way, Moose. I wanted to tell you differently.

Sam was brought out of his deprecating thoughts as his phone buzzed, a deep frown forming on his face as he recalled the harsh words from two hours ago. It had been nearly three weeks since Dean’s body had gone missing, and between calling Crowley and Dean, he would only receive silence. For three agonizing weeks Sam had tried his hardest to get a hold of them, only for Dean to finally answer today and brutally tell him how happy he was now that he was a demon.

He maliciously told Sam that he was only holding him back in life, finally feeling free after so many years of being caged to him. Dean said being a demon was such a freeing feeling and that he wished he had died years ago if it meant getting away from Sam earlier.

Any thoughts he had of a demon possessing his brother’s body vanished in a matter of moments, the words cutting so deep that Sam knew they belonged to Dean. Only his brother had the capability of hurting him so deeply with mere words, being able to break him down with a few callous sentences.

Usually, the words would cause a lingering pain, but it felt short-lived to the pain of Crowley’s betrayal, which still stabbed at him even now. His chest constricted as he steeled his resolve, finally starting to send a response. He hoped it conveyed not only his pain, but his finality.

He was so tired of everything.

What’s done is done. You made your choice, Crowley. Just take care of Dean, please.  

With a resigned sigh he muted the conversation, shoving his phone in his pocket as he grabbed his laptop, ready to start looking for potential hunts again, even if the lingering pain in his chest never lessened.

He was too distracted with the ache in his chest to notice the lightbulbs exploding down the hall, darkening the pathway to the dungeon. He also failed to notice a stack of books levitating behind him as they landed beside him on the table.

And miles away, a demon was looking at his phone screen with a guilty expression, a frown on his face that didn’t blend in with the atmosphere around him. He didn’t take his brown eyes off the screen even when Dean plopped on the chair beside him, a smug grin on his face that didn’t look right.

“C’mon, man. We’ve got twins waiting on us,” Dean elbows him, a vulgar grin on his face that made Crowley want to role his eyes, growing tired of the constant sexcapades. He had enjoyed those activities years ago himself, but now they hardly interested him unless it was to make a deal. Wasting his time at a seedy bar wasn’t how he wanted to spend his nights.

He would rather spend his nights with a different Winchester; helping him research, making him laugh quietly with secret jokes. His heart sputtered at his damning thoughts, the guilt resurfacing again as his heart sank to his stomach.

His brown eyes looked away from Dean, immediately looking back at his phone and the message Sam had sent him thirty minutes ago.

“Dude, did you not hear me?” Dean elbows him again, looking less amused than before. “I said we’ve got twins waiting on us.  Are you-“

“You can have them,” Crowley cuts in, silencing the other demon as he waves him off. “Not interested,”

“What the fuck, man?” Dean scoffs, crossing his arms. “We’ve got two beautiful women who want us, and you’re more interested in your damn phone?” The former hunter shakes his head incredulously. “Come to think of it, you’ve been acting weird ever since I finally fucking answered Sam’s annoying calls.” Crowley withheld the urge to sigh, taking a moment to form his thoughts to not anger the demon beside him.

“I was hoping to break the news to him differently,” Crowley begrudgingly admitted as Dean snorted again, looking unimpressed.

“Doesn’t fucking matter now, does it?” Dean commented with a shrug. “He knows and now he’ll hopefully stop calling all the damn time. Maybe he’ll finally take the hint that no one wants him around.” Crowley’s jaw tensed at the words, eyes momentarily flashing with anger. “He’s a stubborn piece of shit, but hopefully my words got through to him,” Crowley failed to notice Dean leave, the demon walking towards the twins with a lascivious grin.

The anger he felt on Sam’s behalf was brief as Dean words echoed in his head. Sam was stubborn at times, specifically for the things he was passionate about. His fleeting anger transformed into something somber as he looked at the message for what felt like the millionth time, unused to the stubborn man giving in so easily.

It bothered Crowley, unnerving him at how complacent the younger Winchester was being. The king of Hell had been expecting the furious, raging storm that was Sam Winchester. He had braced himself for hate-filled words, expecting a whirlwind of hurtful accusations. Crowley had been expecting a confrontation, already witnessing the depths Sam had gone for Dean before.

What he hadn’t been expecting was Sam’s simplistic and apathetic words, like he had no fight left in him. It was like he had given up-

The realization was like a crushing weight on his chest, his breath catching low in his throat as he closed his eyes in despair. His guilt, which had already been eating at him, only increased tenfold.

Despite his apologies being sincere, they suddenly felt inconsequential and lackluster.

He wished Sam had gotten furious instead. An angry Sam Winchester was at least something he had experience in dealing with. But Sam Winchester who was despondent and completely pulling away? Nothing could have prepared him for the pain the apathetic message would cause him, the message truly opening his eyes and reminding him that he had royally screwed up.

A lump formed in the demon’s throat as he sagged further into the bar stool, waving to the bartender for another drink. Crowley hoped the alcohol would numb his damning thoughts that only seemed to intensify. All he could think about was how he wished he had done things differently, and how hurting Sam had been the last thing he had wanted to do.

As the bitter alcohol burned down his throat, the king of Hell made a promise to himself.

No matter what, he was not only going to protect Sam Winchester as best as he could, but he was also going to make it up to the other man eventually. Even if it meant groveling at his feet for forgiveness. He would do everything in his power to rebuild the trust that formed between them, which Crowley had secretly cherished more with each passing day.

 Their tentative friendship meant everything to the demon, especially when he was privy to the genuine laughter and smiles that Sam kept locked away. The king of Hell would never tell another soul, but it felt like a room became brighter when Sam Winchester walked into it.

Six drinks later, Crowley was sending Sam another message, chest burning with a desire for the hunter to know just how much he was cared for, even if the demon’s actions showed otherwise.

If you ever need me, please call. I know that I didn’t answer you these past weeks, but that won’t happen again, darling. I promise. I’ll always come to your side if you need my help.

A week later, Sam finally had a case.

“Am I doing the right thing here, Cas?” Sam asked as he drove down the highway, his grip tight on the steering wheel. “Dean’s a fucking demon and I’m…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. “I’m not doing anything about it. I thought about using the same ritual I had tried using on Crowley during the trials-“

“Which is too dangerous,” Castiel butted in, glancing at Sam with an imploring gaze. “That ritual is for demons possessing a vessel, Sam. There could be consequences with using it on a demon who inhabits its own body,” There was a heavy beat of silence which Castiel soon broke. “There is also the issue of your own health. That ritual nearly killed you the first time.” Sam winces at the blunt words, knuckles white as he gives a small nod.

“I know.” He sighed. “I wish there was more that I could do. I feel horrible for not doing anything.” Again, Sam swallowed hard, thinking about Dean’s harsh words when his brother learned he hadn’t searched for him during his year in Purgatory. It felt like he was letting his brother down again.

“When you’re not looking for cases you’re researching rituals. I fail to understand why you think you’re doing nothing,” Sam cracks a small smile at the angel’s words, the compassion in them helping ease his conscious. “Theres also the fact that we know very little about the Mark of Cain and the effect it has on demons.” Sam winced again, the symbol making him think about Crowley.

“I really don’t want to ask Crowley about it,” Sam admitted with a groan, running a hand down his face. “There’s no telling if he would even tell us the truth about it anyway.” Castiel was oddly quiet, and Sam stole a glance at the angel, shifting uncomfortably when he realized blue eyes were boring into his face. “What?” He asked after a moment, growing nervous.

“Have you spoken with him anymore since the last time?” Castiel inquired, watching the tension form in Sam’s shoulders as the man shook his head slowly, opening and closing his mouth.

“No,” Sam settled on, forcing his fingers to relax their grip on the steering wheel as he exhaled deeply, a melancholic expression staying. “I don’t…” Sam trailed off, unsure of how to word his thoughts to the angel beside him. He sighed again, unable to lie to himself or his close friend. “I still care about him, despite all he did, but I can’t bring myself to talk to him yet,” Sam admitted, thinking about all the apologies Crowley had texted him.

He had a suspicion that the demon had been drunk for some of the texts, but Sam couldn’t deny that they had made him smile just a little, a warmth replacing the numbness in his chest for a brief moment.

“I haven’t texted him back at all,” Sam continued, trying to force himself to relax, still feeling Castiel’s burning gaze. He wanted to text the demon back, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it yet, Truthfully, he didn’t know what to say to him and he was still deeply hurt by the man’s actions.

“What about Dean?” Castiel asked after a few minutes and Sam grimaced, shaking his head again.

“I told him that he was still my brother and that I’d be there for him if he needed me,” Sam confessed, hearing the small sigh the man let out. He didn’t need to look at the angel to know there was a sorrowful look on his face. Anytime Dean was mentioned a depressing gleam would enter Castiel’s blue eyes and Sam hated to see it. “He hasn’t replied,” Which wasn’t surprising after the last time Dean answered the phone.

“I see.” Castiel mumbled and Sam felt compelled to inform the angel about some of the things Crowley had been texting him.

“Even though I don’t respond to Crowley, he does send me updates about Dean.” Sam flushed to himself when those blue eyes went back to burning the side of his head. “Usually it’s once a day, sometimes more if…alcohol is involved, I guess.”

“Sam,” Even though Sam was looking at the road, he could swear that Castiel was tilting his head and furrowing his brows. “Just how often does Crowley text you?”

“Every day,” Sam coughed, face flushing the longer Castiel looked at him. “Usually it’s just once, but it’s sometimes more.” Saying it out loud to Cas made his stomach swoop, that strange warmth returning to his chest. “I don’t think I can even tell you the amount of times he’s sent me an apology,” The angel hummed again, head still tilted.

“Do you believe him?” The question makes his heart freeze, lips moving on their own accord.

“I want to,” Sam said, his voice uncharacteristically small, a sliver of hope in his tone that Castiel caught onto. “I really do want to believe he’s sincere, Cas.” There was a sad smile on the hunter’s face as he released a small breath.

“…Perhaps you should,” Sam blinked in shock at the words, his lips parting in surprise as glanced at the Angel. “Crowley is not the type of person who apologies lightly,” Castiel spoke, his words blunt. “And he certainly isn’t one to continuously apologize,” Sam let out another shaky exhale as he took the next exit, knowing his friend was right. As the words played in his head, Castiel had cleared his throat and said something important.

“He can be sincere with his remorse, but that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to forgive him,” Castiel’s words were surprisingly soft, the angel obviously speaking from experience.

“I know,” Sam whispered and after a profound beat of silence, gave the angel a small, but genuine smile. “Thanks, Cas,” Sam said, relieved when some of the weight from his shoulders lifted.

He pushed the thoughts away, unaware of the power buzzing around his body.

Castiel noticed, squinting his eyes with another head tilt. It wasn’t the first time he had caught onto the strange occurrence, but after what happened last week, the Angel was keeping tabs on the younger Winchester.

Because he had no idea how Sam Winchester had restored his grace when a powerful blast of magic came from his chest.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t taken Sam or Castiel long to figure out the culprits behind the strange murders and disappearances. The hex bags left in the open had been Sam’s first indicator that they were dealing with a novice. A sloppy novice with shoddy spellwork at that.

What he hadn’t been expecting was a coven .

“Look,” Sam sighed deeply, trying to buy Castiel time to break through the sigils that circled the shack. “I get it. Really, I do.” He looked at the four young adults, seeing the anger in their eyes. “You’re upset that your friend is dead and the only way you can fix it is to get revenge on the people responsible,” One of the guys spoke up, some of his anger transforming into pure anguish and heartbreak.

“In this town, you either have money or you don’t,” The others nodded at the blunt words. “And just because someone has money doesn’t mean they should be able to get away with murder. Crystal’s death shouldn’t be brushed under the rug by the elitist pieces of shit,” Sam wanted to wince, barely able to keep his emotions hidden.

“You’re right. Her death shouldn’t be covered up,” The Winchester agreed, trying to get his hands free discreetly. “But killing everyone involved will get you nowhere. The public will never know the truth, and they’ll die receiving more sympathy than they deserve.” One of the girls crossed her arms, opening and closing her mouth as the troubled look on her face seemed to intensify. To her left, one of the meeker boys spoke up.

“He’s right,” All eyes turned on him, the other three looking at him in betrayal. “I hate it, but he’s right. Look at all the sympathy Brandon already has, and he’s only been dead for a few days. They’re treating his death like a tragedy despite all he put Crystal through.”

“You never wanted in on any of this.” One of the girls sent him a glare, making the boy flinch back. Sam was thankful for the distraction as he managed to get one of his hands free, praying to Castiel to break through the sigil soon.

“Because you three didn’t stop at one killing, Vanessa!” He exclaimed, eyeing them warily. “I didn’t give a shit about killing Brandon, but once you started targeting all of his friends and all the people who ever slighted you or Crystal, you became out of control! Now the FBI is investigating the deaths!” He motioned at Sam, gathering more courage. “When will this end? Once we kill the entire fucking town?” The girl with her arms crossed frowned at the words, but before she could say anything, the other man was speaking up again.

“We have these powers for a reason. Crystal taught us everything she knew. It would be a disservice not to use them on her behalf. C’mon, Tommy. Surely you can see we need to use these powers?” The boy just shook his head in disgust.

“There have been too many deaths, Dennis. This isn’t about revenge anymore. It’s about having power and control,” Tommy looked at the three, pleading with them to understand. “If you truly believe Crystal would want you to kill dozens of people, then you never knew her at all. She taught us these powers to form a family with us. Not to hurt people,” There was a snort of disdain from the girl with a stern glare on her face, finally looking ready to say something rather than glaring at everyone.

“It doesn’t matter why Crystal taught us,” She snapped, eyes hardening as she balled her fist. “What matters is she’s dead, and we can make things better. For people like her. Like us,” Tommy sagged at her words, realizing the other three weren’t going to listen to him. Sam watched the interactions carefully, his skin prickling as he felt something shift in the air. “You’re either with us, or you’re not.”

“Vanessa, please.” Tommy began, looking betrayed at the blunt words. He stopped and changed course, looking to the girl who hadn’t said a word the entire time, her arms still crossed. “Please, back me up,” He begged his friend, motioning to the other two. “You know this isn’t right-“ There was a choked gasp as Tommy fell to his knees, blood spurting out of his mouth and nose, bloody tears flowing out of his eyes.

“You heard Vanessa.” The girl said emotionlessly. “You’re either with us, or you’re not.” Her words were chilly, and the change in the atmosphere happened immediately.

“What the fuck, Sally!” Dennis screamed, harshly shoving the witch to the side as he fell to his knees, grabbing the choking boy. “Tommy’s our friend! What the fuck is your problem?”

“Shut up, Dennis.” Sally looked at him with a sneer, her hands balled into fists. “He was going to turn on us and try and stop us from killing him,” She pointed at Sam, who was looking at the scene with parted lips, hand already slipping to subtly grasp one of his witch-killing blades.

It was the only thing he had Ruby to thank for.

“A coven sticks together and banishes those who don’t follow the path.” She recited, waving her hand and ending the curse. “Let that be the final warning.” Both Tommy and Dennis eyed Sally warily, the bloodied boy looking more determined than before. Vanessa nodded at the words, sending a cold glare in Sam’s direction, a strange glint in her eyes.

“We’ll cut back on the killing right after we get rid of him,” Vanessa said, looking back to the two boys with a desperate look, almost like she was pleading with them to keep silent. “We promise. After we kill him, we’ll stop.” Dennis gripped Tommy’s arm, both of them looking pale.

“Vanessa-“ Dennis tried, only to hiss in pain when Sally shot a curse at him, his nose bleeding as his mouth was forcibly shut. For the first time, Sam felt like he saw a look of remorse and hesitation in Vanessa’s eyes, like she was having an internal battle with herself.

Just as Sam was about to make a move, Tommy had sent a surprisingly powerful blast of energy at the two witches, standing up on shaky legs, Dennis beside him. Vanessa was blasted into the wall, a pitiful groan escaping her that was ignored by Sally, who was eyeing Tommy with hatred.

“No!” The young man demanded, his eyes glowing a vibrant purple as his hands shook. “That man is completely innocent. The only reason he’s even here is because you went too far with your killings. You let this power change you into this…monster. If this is the kind of coven you want, I banish myself from it!” The magic reacted to his words, the golden circle at the center of the room starting to fracture.

“You little bitch!” Sally was seething in anger, her eyes glowing red and she aimed her bleeding fingers at all three men. “Crystal was wrong about a unisex coven. All men are backstabbing son of bitches no matter where you go!” She then paused, a dangerous gleam entering her eyes that made the room grow cold. Soon enough, the young witch started a dangerous chant that was all too familiar for Sam’s liking, having heard Ruby do the same chant once before.

It was a ritualistic death chant.

One that was far too advanced for novice witches.

Suddenly, some of the pieces started to fall together as his eyes fell to the necklace around Sally’s neck, his voice raw as he spoke.

“Where did she get that necklace from?” Sam asked, needing to make sure his hunch was right before he attacked. Tommy looked at him in disbelief, as if the question was one of the strangest things Sam could ask in this moment.

“It came from Crystal. Right before she died, she passed it to Sally. It was like she knew her time was coming to an end,” Sam faltered at that, crossing out the idea of the necklace being fueled by a vengeful witch’s spirit.

“We need to get it off of her,” Sam said. “That necklace is cursed,” Sam whispered, ready to make his move. His breath hitched when Vanessa eerily stood up, a sickening magic wrapping around her and the ring she wore.

Shit.

“No,” Tommy gasped, and Sam didn’t have to look at him to know he was terrified. “That ring was on Crystal when she died-“ The inhuman growl coming from Vanessa’s lips made Tommy shudder, panicked breaths leaving him as blood started to drip down from Vanessa’s eyes. “Oh god, what’s wrong with her?”

“The ring is cursed too,” Sam dodged a blow of magic from Vanessa, hating what he had to say. “Look, I’ve dealt with this curse before. I’m sorry, but your friend is dead. All that’s left is a mindless attacker,” More blood was spilling from the witch’s mouth as she blasted another spell at them, slowing down as more and more blood spilled out.

“Vanessa, enough!” Dennis had grabbed her shoulders, trying to calm down the witch, only to scream in pain as she lunged at him, using the rest of her magic to take his life force and powers.

“Thank you, Vanessa.” Sally grinned, stopping her chant as Vanessa died, collapsing on the floor beside Dennis. She grinned as Dennis’ life force and magic flowed to her instead, settling into the locket. “You served your purpose.” All Tommy could do was stare in horror at his best friend’s corpses, a choked sob escaping him as he met the lifeless, horrified gaze of Dennis.

Sam had to ignore the traumatized man behind him, looking at Sally with suspicion in his eyes.

“You killed Crystal.” Sam accused, hearing the startled gasp behind him. “She was in a complicated relationship, and you used that as the scapegoat for the murder,”

“Well damn, aren’t you a clever one?” Sally grinned sweetly at him, her eyes running over his form. “Pretty too. Shame I’ll have to kill you soon,” Her smile was saccharine as she snapped her fingers, the cursed ring floating to her and landing in her palms.

“How could you?” Tommy looked at Sally incredulously, growing more and more horrified at the smile she wore on her face.

“You three were so naïve. Do you really think Crystal wanted to teach you magic out of the kindness of her heart?” Sally snorted, playing with the ring in her hands. “She only had her powers because she sold her soul to a demon, All of her powers and all of theirs-“ Sally motioned to the two corpses with a grin. “-are in here,” She held up the necklace, her eyes flashing. “From the beginning, we pretended to be new witches, searching for people with potential so we could steal their life and magic. Now I have to get my hands dirtier than I planned,” She snapped her fingers, her magic wrapping around Tommy as it knocked him into the wall, incapacitating him.

Seeing the power forming in her hands that was meant for him, Sam made to stall, realizing something.

“You didn’t want to kill her.” Sam said, watching her every move. “Her ten years were almost up, and so she gave you the necklace to continue her legacy of collecting magic,” For the first time all day, Sally regarded him like the threat he was, watching him warily as her saccharine smile slipped.

“Ten years… How did you know that?” There was a slight tinge of fear.

“Lucky guess. Most crossroad demon deals last for ten years.” Sam commented, watching the woman. She was like a coiled snake ready to strike, and he couldn’t take his gaze off of her for a single second.

“You sure know a lot about the occult for an FBI Agent,” Sally said, going to circle him, but stopping halfway. “Kinda makes me wanna keep you even more,” She grinned at him, trying to either unnerve him or get him to break. “You’re just a man of many talents, aren’t you?”

Sam nearly raised an eyebrow at her attempt at seduction, holding the knife close to him as he tilted his head, humming.

“Most Winchester’s are,” Sam replied calmly, watching with vindictive glee as her seductive mask fell, her eyes widening as she immediately took a step back and looked at him like he was the devil himself.

And considering the Devil had been inside of him years ago, it was a fitting analogy.

“Winchester?” She eyed him, opening and closing her mouth as she nervously looked around the room, clearly thinking there were more of them.

For a moment, a pain stabbed at his chest, thinking of his brother who was once by his side, only to be a demon himself now.

“There’s supposed to be two of you,”  Sally’s voice betrayed her as it trembled, watching Sam anxiously. “Where the Hell-“

“Sam!” Castiel finally popped in, looking annoyed. “Those sigils are too advanced for witches of their caliber,” Sam snorted at the blunt tone, feeling a small amount of relief hit him knowing Castiel had his back. “I’m sorry it took so long to break them,”

“You were saying?” Sam taunted the witch, heart freezing as she rose her hands, powerful magic forming from the necklace and her fingertips, a look of realization entering her eyes.

“Those sigils were to keep Angels out.” She said, eyes flashing like a strike of lightning. “The book Crystal found in Spain can finally come in handy. We’ve been wanting to try this spell out,”  An incantation was leaving her lips that Sam had never heard before, but there was something inside of his chest forming, buzzing around him like a second skin.

All he knew in that moment was that the spell was being sent at Castiel and that it was specially targeted at Angels, so he did the first thing that came to mind.

He jumped in front of the spell, blocking the angel from the attack. He heard Castiel yell his name, but he let the spell hit him, protecting the angel.  Unknown to him, his eyes were glowing a bright gold as he absorbed the spell with ease, Sally watching as her complexion turned ashen.

“You shouldn’t be able to do that! You shouldn’t be that powerful!” She took a shaky step back, screaming in terror as Sam raised his hand and sent a blast of pure magic into the locket around her neck, shattering it and releasing all the magic within it. She watched as another blast left him and covered Tommy, healing his injuries. “How…” Sally took another step back, watching as all the magic from the locket was absorbed by Sam, who barely batted an eye.

“There were dozens of witches magics in that necklace, and you just took it all,” Sally gasped for breath, her breathing labored as she watched Sam with uneasy eyes, cold chills covering her entire body at the pure magic flowing through him. “ What are you?!” The golden eyes were the last thing she saw as Sam unknowingly shot the absorbed magic back at her, the girl screaming as the blast turned her into ash, ripping through her entire body and soul.

Castiel watched on with wide eyes, breaking from his stupor when Sam began to fall.

“Sam!” The angel caught the taller man, easing him down as he came face-to-face with bright gold eyes that soon changed back into their usual blue-green color.  

“Cas?” Sam blinked slowly, still feeling the power buzzing around him, although less intense than before. “What just happened? What did I do?” Sam sat up, looking to where the pile of ash was, a disgruntled sound escaping his lips.

Truthfully, Castiel had no answer other than;

“It seems that you used magic on her,” The angel said slowly. “A lot of it.” There was a cough from the side of the room as Tommy shook his head, his injuries completely healed as he stared at Sam in pure astonishment.

There was a groan from across the room as Dennis slowly sat up, rubbing his head slowly. “What the fuck just happened?” He asked, shaking his head.

“It seems that you also brought someone back to life with magic,” Castiel said, cutting into Sam’s thoughts. “How…fascinating,”

Sam, on the other hand, did not find it fascinating at all.

-

Despite everything that happened, Sam made sure to check on Tommy and Dennis before he left the state.

“Take it from me, but this stuff isn’t to be messed with unless you know what you’re doing. It’s too easy to get mixed in with the wrong sorts of people. I made the same mistake when I was your age,” He was speaking to Tommy in particular, giving a genuine smile when the younger man nodded his head.

“I think I’m done with the occult stuff for a while,” Tommy confessed, a haunted look still in his eyes, specifically when he looked at Dennis. “I’ll answer magic if it seeks me out, but I don’t have plans on joining a coven again anytime soon. Especially one with psycho witches.” Sam nodded, writing down on a notecard as he passed it to him. At the quizzical look, Sam shrugged.

“It’s part of my job to deal with the occult. If you ever come across something like this again, leave me a message.” Tommy nodded, pocketing the number.

“Maybe one day I can control my powers just as well as you do. I don’t know if I wanna kill evil witches, but I’m thankful that you do.” Sam's smile didn’t quite meet his eyes at the words, his mind racing. “Before you go, do you want Crystal’s book? Dennis and I don’t want anything to do with it, and it’s not like we can understand it anyway. I think it’s an antique.” Sam wanted to say no and shake his head, but something deep down told him he needed to grab the book, remembering the fact it held a spell that specially targeted angels.

“I can take it. I’ll make sure it doesn’t get in the wrong hands again.”

When Tommy and Dennis returned with the Book of the Damned in their hands, Sam immediately knew he had made the right decision to take the book, his eyes widening as he awkwardly took it, relieved that it was going into the safe walls of the Bunker.

-

“Well, well, what do we have here?” A woman with long ginger hair walked into the abandoned shack, sniffing the air and making a face. “Playing with forces you shouldn’t be messing with, hm?” She came to a dead stop, her eyebrows rising at the pile of ash that awaited her.

“You poor dearie.” The woman cooed, bending down to flick the ash in disdain. “A borrower couldn’t stand the strength of a natural born, I take it?” She produced a small vial from her belt as she scooped some of the ashes into it, shaking it as it started to glow.

“I suppose I should thank you, however. You’ve made finding this natural born so much easier,”

With all the thoughts racing through Sam’s mind, he found himself smiling as his phone went off, signaling another text from a slightly intoxicated Crowley.

Bloody Hell, Sam. How did you manage to put up with your brother for this long?

He’s got no sense of humor that doesn’t include crude jokes. It’s tasteless, if you ask me. A crude joke is fine in moderation, but that’s all he knows.

Sam can’t help but snort at the words, eyes slipping shut for a few minutes before his phone goes off again.

I know I’ve told you this a dozen times already, but I am sorry for everything, Moose. You’re the last person on this bloody planet I ever wanted to hurt.

A pale flush burns his cheeks as he reads the words, a half-smile spreading across his face as a lightness returns to his chest that had been absent for weeks. His smile was still fragile, but knowing it was caused by Crowley only made it worth it even more.

I’d rather be with you, darling, and that’s a promise.

If you ever need me, just call me, darling. I’ll always answer.

Thanks, Crowley. Next time I have to deal with psychotic witches, I’ll let you handle it.

They didn’t hurt you, did they? Are you okay? Sam blinked in surprise at the concern, the half-smile morphing into a full one as he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

Who knew that not answering Crowley’s messages for weeks would be so difficult for him?

I’m fine. Just exhausted, honestly.

Sam wanted to tell Crowley the truth. He wanted to tell him about the strange magic that was building in his chest; the same magic that had ripped through an extremely powerful locket and brought someone back to life.

But he could only open up so much to the demon at one time.

I understand, darling. Sleep well.

Before drifting off the sleep, Sam flushed darkly as he swallowed hard, unable to stop his thoughts from landing on one word.

Darling.

Sam couldn’t deny it, even to himself, but he loved the new endearment Crowley had for him when the demon was slightly intoxicated.