A Supernatural x Reader Story

Chapter Twenty: There Will Be Blood

"I'll say it again," you chime in. "I don't like it."

Summoning a demon – the King of Hell – to the only safe place in the area – Rufus' cabin – seems like a disaster waiting to happen.

But also, you don't know if you can face him. Crowley pulled you out of Hell, and the thought of being in his debt makes you sick to your stomach. But, you have to know.

Dean catches you eye, and he gives you the look, like he's studying you, though, only after years of having known him, you know that it's his look of empathy.

"You don't have to do this," he says, not breaking his gaze. "You don't even need to be in the room, in the house. Sam and me – we can get the blood, and it can be over."

You are shaking your head before he finishes speaking. "If I'm putting you two in danger," you say, softly, but with conviction, "I need to know."

"Et ad congregandum," Sam finishes, striking a match as Dean runs a knife along his palm and allows the blood to drip into the bowl, which rests in the middle of a pentagram and candles on the table, "eos coram me."

Before the flames have even died down, Crowley, in the same black suit in which you have seen him last that makes you wonder whether he has anything else in his wardrobe, appears before you.

"Hello, boys," he says, catching a glance of you, "(Y/N). I see the happy family has reunited."

The last time – the only time – you have heard that deep, threatening voice was while you were burning, while you were being dragged out of Hell, every part of you on fire, forced through the divide.

Sam catches your eye again. Are you sure?

You nod.

"I've got some questions," you say, more firmly than you thought you would be able to manage.

"Ah, let me guess," he muses. "'How can I repay you for rescuing me from my fiery eternity?'"

You scoff. "More like, 'what the hell did you do to me?'"

"If you're unhappy, love," he says, raising his fingers in a snapping motion, "I can zap you back to where I found you."

Instinctively, you retreat a step, warranting a smirk from him. But Dean has stepped between the two of you.

"Whoa, no one's zapping anyone, all right?" he states, unquestioningly.

You let out a sigh. "Why?" you address Crowley again.

He stares at you a beat before conceding. "Well, as a general rule, I pull souls down, not pluck them back topside. But you're –" he looks you up and down "– basically a Winchester. There are certain exceptions that are made. So, in exchange, I've turned you into a sort of, erm, experiment, if you will."

"So, what does that mean?" you ask.

"It means whatever you want it to mean, love," he winks in response to your eyeroll.

"And what did you get from this experiment of yours?"

"I'll let you know once it's finished."

You recoil at the thought of him studying you, like a test tube.

"The truth is," he continues, "yours is the first soul I've ever lifted. There's been no angelic interference, no precedent, so there's really no way of knowing. I have a, uh, developing hypothesis."

You and the boys continue to stare at him. "And?" you demand.

"You've had dreams?" he questions, "About Hell?"