Demon!Dean x Reader279Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOMQKrN6sYX
Warnings: none really279Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgVQUtfCMXP
279Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡngSOOlkBig
You looked down at the crumpled pile on the floor in front of you in disgust and casually lifted a boot. You dragged your knife along the sole, scraping the semi-congealed blood onto the rubber edge and planting your foot back firmly on the floor, smiling a little at the thought of how goddamn confusing that one bloody shoeprint was going to be for the cops.
No forced entry. Doors and windows all locked from the inside. No fingerprints.
Just a dead rapist and one bloody partial shoeprint.
You cast a final glance at the body in the middle of the floor.
He hadn’t even seen it coming. How could he? And you never got sick of the look on their faces when you finally showed yourself to them… after you had a little fun first of course.
Your targets were are a special kind of sick and you afforded them the same thought and mercy which they gave their victims; exactly none.
You materialized by the nearest wall and thrust the knife you had used for the dirty work into the ugly wood paneling.
The cops could have the murder weapon. It wouldn’t matter. You left no traces, except for that little bit of sulfur you didn’t bother to get rid of. It would be a red herring for them. By the time they’d even confirmed what is was you would have gone across the country and possibly circled back around again.
In the next instant, you were outside in the alley, pulling your hood up to obscure yourself better as you moved through the shadows, carelessly splashing through puddles, rinsing the last bit of blood off your boots.
You headed for your newest haunt, though this would probably be your last night in the establishment. You needed to keep on the move. There were plenty more scumbags you needed to visit…
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you acknowledged that you were leaving behind a trail of bodies, and sooner or later, someone would catch up to you by following that trail. You hadn’t yet decided who it was most likely to be, but you know it would be someone.
For now, you hunted.
_ _ _ _ _ _
By the time Cas and Sam pulled up in front of the building, cops were already removing a body in a body bag from a garden-level apartment.
The two exchanged a look with each other. Cas grabbed a couple of badges from a box hidden underneath his seat and handed one to Sam.
The dark circles beneath Sam’s eyes had diminished somewhat in recent weeks, but they never disappeared completely. He was looking stronger though, and steadier, Cas was happy to note. He had a sense of purpose. They both did. They had something to keep them occupied, and something to strive for. And that was bringing you and Dean home.
”Okay,” Sam said to Cas as they strode across the lawn. “Just remember to—“
”Follow your, lead. Yes, Sam. I think I’ve got it by now.” Cas looked up toward the apartment building. It was nicely landscaped and many of the balconies above had flowering plants and patio sets arranged on them. “Nicer apartments than our last few cases,” the angel said.
Sam sighed heavily and his jaw clenched. “Well, rapists come from all backgrounds. They’re not just some sicko from the bad part of town,” he said. “Sometimes people refuse to believe that,” he added sadly. “Money is power, you know.”
Cas’s face clouded over. “You think that’s why he avoided a conviction?”
“I read his case file. I know it is. His lawyer, the best money could buy, got the DNA evidence thrown out.” Sam flagged a nearby detective down.
“Excuse me. We’re with the local FBI field office. You mind if we take a look at the scene?” Sam asked, flashing his badge. “We’ve been sitting on this guy for a while and—“
“Oh, yeah. Your co-worker is inside already. Knock yourselves out. They just took the body out but my partner can tell you how we found him.”
Sam and Cas exchanged a tense expression, thanked the detective, and started toward the sliding glass door. “Co-worker?” Just as Sam was swallowing the lump in his throat, the detective called out to get their attention. “Hey! Good luck! You’re gonna need it,” he scoffed, turning and heading toward his car.
Cas let out a doubtful sigh. “Great…”
Sam flashed a badge again to an officer as they neared the open patio door and he pointed them straight into the living room. Rounding the doorframe their eyes immediately fell on none other than Crowley.
Sam’s jaw clenched and he was sure his gaze turned cold. But Crowley merely nodded and said, “Agents.”
Cas and Sam begrudgingly walked over and surveyed the scene. Once the detective inside had talked them through everything he left the three alone to go oversee further evidence collection.
”FBI? Really, Crowley? What kind of FBI agent dresses like a funeral home director?” Sam said, gesturing at the King of Hell’s all-black suit and dark tie.
Crowley glanced down at his suit. “This is an Armani suit, Moose. Not that I would expect you to know, based on your Walmart ensemble.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Crowley added sarcastically.
Cas’s voice came out in a growl. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.
”What do you think I’m doing? The same thing you two nimrods are. Following the bodies. Purgatory is filling up with monsters and hell is filling up with sinners. Our numbers haven’t been this good since the Black Plague struck Europe,” he finished with a snarky smile.
”If business is so good, then why are you bothering following up on whoever is doing it?” Sam pressed.
Crowley merely shifted his weight and didn’t respond, eyeing the bloody knife still sticking out of the wall.
Cas narrowed his eyes at the demon. “You felt it too,” he said.
Crowley looked over at Cas, and although he tried to scowl there was some doubt in his eyes that the angel could see. “Please, I’m a demon. I don’t feel anything.”
”The change in power. You felt it,” Cas said again.
Sam was glancing between the two of them, trying to read Crowley’s expression, and becoming very uncomfortable about all the officers moving in and out of the room. “Alright, we can’t talk about this here. Let’s go. We’ll go someplace we don’t have to worry about being overheard.”
A short time later, the three of them were sequestered in a dingy bar, and despite the fact that there were only Budweiser and Bud Light on tap, Crowley still asked for some fruity monstrosity of a cocktail, which Sam was pretty sure was going to get them thrown out or punched.
Sam was having a hard time looking at Crowley without feeling anger boil in his chest. He wanted to punch him square across the face, but at the moment he also wanted to know what Crowley thought about what Cas insisted he had felt.
“So, what do you think it is?” Sam asked.
Crowley took a deep drink out of his fruity cocktail through the straw, obviously prolonging it to maximize Sam and Cas’s annoyance. “What do you think it is?”
”Come on, Crowley. You’re lucky I didn’t try and get you with an angel blade the minute we saw you,” Sam spat. “If you’d like to keep things that way, I suggest you help. This whole mess is your fault anyway!”
Crowley cocked his head at Sam and dabbed the corner of his mouth with a bar napkin. “Not very friendly, are we, Moose?”
Sam was about to retort but Cas interrupted and attempted to run interference. “It’s Y/N. Isn’t it?” he prodded.
The same discomfort they had seen back at the crime scene was evident on Crowley’s face. Cas took it as an affirmative response.
”Perhaps,” Crowley said. “I may have heard something about it.”
Suddenly, Cas snapped. He seized Crowley by the front of his suit and was inches from his face. “Listen, you little insect. We wouldn’t have lost Dean OR Y/N if it weren’t for you, so if you know something I suggest that you tell us, otherwise I will personally see rearranging your face.” Cas’s voice came out through clenched teeth as a growl.
Sam noticed that the bartender just turned his back and walked away, apparently unconcerned, and Sam put a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Cas—“
Just then, Sam’s cell phone rang. All three of them froze, and Sam dug into his pocket and pulled it out. Unlisted caller.
Sam glanced up at Cas, who immediately released Crowley. Crowley watched with interest as he straightened his suit coat and tie. After gulping down the tightness in his throat the best he could, Sam answered the call. “Hello?” He could hear the hesitation in his own voice.
“Sam, Sam, Sam,” came the voice from the other end.
”Dean.” Cas’s eyes widened and his gaze intensified. Crowley leaned in a little closer.
”How’s it hanging, little brother?”
Sam didn’t know how to respond. “Dean, we’ve been trying to get in touch with you since—“
“–since forever. Yeah, I know. But you know what they say, moss doesn’t grow on a rolling rock or some shit,” Dean replied carelessly. “Listen… I know you and Cas are on the trail of this killing machine and I think there’s something you should know about it.”
“What about it?” Sam asked, his heart hammering in his chest.
Dean slammed back a shot of tequila and cleared his throat. “It ain’t me,” he said.
Sam let a silence stretch for a moment. “…is that it?”
”Yeah, kind of.” Sam could almost see the shrug he guessed Dean was making and he felt anger welling up in his chest again.
”Dean, Y/N is missing, maybe dead, or God-only-knows what and all you can say is—“
Dean interrupted. “Yeah, Y/N is definitely not dead,” he said.
”What?” Sam retorted.
”Who the hell do you think is leaving the Hansel and Gretel trail? But, you know, bodies instead of bread crumbs,” he said. “I’m ahead of you on this thing.”
”What’s he saying?” Crowley whispered, but Sam just waved him off.
”We thought it was but–are you sure it’s Y/N?” Sam asked.
”Positive,” Dean said. “Absolutely positive. She’s gone totally scorched earth!” He almost sounded amused and it was grating Sam’s nerves.
Crowley suddenly grabbed the phone from Sam and put it on speakerphone. “Dean! A pleasure to hear from you as always. Never available when needed but buzzing around like a fly when–”
”Crowley! Well, I should have guessed… The gang is all there,” Dean said carelessly.
”Dean,” Cas said. His voice was cold and steely. “Where are you?”
Dean only laughed. “Ahead of you, chuckles, but I’m not about to tell you where. You three are in Indiana? Well, there are three more bodies waiting for you down the line.”
“Dean, what exactly is—“ Cas wasn’t sure how to ask the question. “Have you seen Y/N?”
”No, but I’m close. Closer than you three amigos anyway.” They heard the clink of glassware in the background. Dean changed gears. “Crowley, there are some crazy rumors flying around about your domain. Shouldn’t you be reining those in?”
Sam and Cas’s eyes flew to Crowley’s face, immediately trying to read his reaction.
”I’m not sure what you’re referring to—“ Crowley started, but Dean quickly interrupted.
”You know goddamn well what I’m referring to,” Dean countered. “A bunch of your minions is losing their shit because they think Y/N has gone nuclear. Some are saying she’s going to be taking over,” he scoffed. “Can you imagine that? Y/N taking over hell? I mean, I know she’s gone vigilante but Y/N? Taking over Hell? A little unbelievable. I’m sure even as she is she probably is full of annoying principles,” Dean said, rolling his eyes. “Based on the earful she gave me last time I saw her…” Though he was talking about the fight you had had with him in the hotel during the rendezvous Crowley had arranged, a sudden surge pushed the image of you pale and dead-on that slab into his mind unbidden and he winced and squinted his eyes shut, trying to force it out of mind.
But on the other end of the line, Cas and Sam were still scrutinizing Crowley, who was no longer able to hide his concern and anxiety. He tried to distract from it. “Full of principles until some hunter wanders into her path, maybe,” Crowley said.
Dean was about to respond but Cas quickly hung up the call and Sam and the angel let their angry glares bore into the demon. “I knew that you knew something,” Cas growled.
Sam sidled up beside him and soon had an angel blade pressed against his ribs. “Now, Crowley. This is Y/N we are talking about. It’s not a game.”
It seemed that the ‘King of Hell’ didn’t have many options. “Alright, Moose. Put the pig sticker away, it’s making me itch,” he said. He sighed heavily as Sam backed off. Cas’s cobalt eyes were fixed on him.
“What Flutters here picked up on, his so-called ‘change in power’ was Y/N coming back to—well not back to life exactly, but into being in her new form,” Crowley said.
”As a demon,” Sam said. No surprise there.
”Bravo, Moose,” Crowley quipped. “But it’s more than that. It seems that for some unknown reason Y/N came back as—” he hesitated.
”As?” Cas urged, his deep voice thick with foreboding. The air felt electric around them. Cas knew they were on the edge of some new information that was going to change everything.
”A Knight of Hell,” Crowley said, averting his eyes to the floor. “So, you see we are in a bit of a predicament.”
Sam fell back heavily onto the nearest barstool, his face dumbstruck. Cas’s blue eyes were glaring at Crowley and his anger resurfaced.
”A Knight of Hell,” he repeated. “What have you done, Crowley?”
And this time the demon didn’t have a snappy comeback. All he could do was stare at his polished dress's shoes and wait for what was to come.
ns 15.158.61.39da2
