Revelation (A Supernatural Fanfic)(Destiel and Mooseley)

Revelation l Chapter 7 l Sam Winchester

Revelation l Chapter 7 l Sam Winchester

"Ah, Moosey, still alive I see."

Somehow my ears, even though I was half asleep, were able to distinguish the words so clearly. My eyes flutter open and I let out a yawn that makes my eyes water, causing the black-clad figure before me to appear blurred. I'd know that voice anywhere, though, so I didn't have to ask who my lone visitor was. "What are you doing here?"

After I rub my eyes of their water I notice that he looks rather amused, though I manage to get a hint of some other emotion in his eyes. I never really noticed it before, but Crowley tended to show many more emotions than other demons. Though, he kept those feelings hidden by that large bravado of jokes. Now that I think about it Dean and he aren't actually that far off. "Always a pleasure to see you too, Moose."

I couldn't tell if that was some sort of joke, but I could tell that he was smiling a bit more than usual today. I scoffed at that. "You're in a good mood today."

"I'm always in a good mood." He lied, crouching down so that we were face to face. I was still sitting in that chair in the middle of that room, staring at walls and contemplating thoughts in the dim light.

I roll my eyes to let him know I wasn't buying it, but that's not what I really wanted to discuss right now. "So, what, injection time?" I was grateful that he was trying to get rid of these unbearable premonitions of mine, but I hated the constant visitations, examinations, and injections that went along with it. I was more like a dog at the vet than a man.

"No, examination time." He explained as he stood back up, leaning over me and tilting his head to get a better look at my neck.

Without even asking my consent, the King of Hell grabbed my chin with his hand and tilted it in whatever way he pleased so that he could look at my physical condition. I let him, not really having a say in the matter anyway. Mostly, he looked at the puncture marks on my neck that were beginning to form a series of bruises there from constant prodding. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. "What now?"

"Now I'm going to begin injecting your wrists. If I keep injecting your neck it's likely to just cause long-term damage." This was his answer, and he did so rather bluntly.

He applied a bit of ointment to a gauze bandage before he snipped the fabric in two and applied the short half to the wounds on my neck. I hadn't realized how much pain the injections were causing until the other began to apply pressure there with his hand. I flinched a bit, sucking in a short breath. He took medical tape, applying it to the corners of the bandage, before removing his hand and stepping away from me. The gauze stuck firmly in place.

Was Crowley really nursing me for something as little as a couple neck bruises? Maybe I really didn't know how hurt I truly was, but that really doesn't seem his style at all. Just how good of a day was he having, anyway? "Thanks?" I asked it like a question, not really sure how else to respond to the nice treatment from the king of demons.

He shrugged his hands into his jacket pockets, his body stiffening once more at my thanks. He really wasn't used to such gratitude, especially from a Winchester. It had to be confusing, though I tried not to make a habit of it. He scoffed, turning away like he didn't know what else to do. "You're welcome."

Maybe he wasn't as bad as I always thought. That sounds crazy, after thinking about the past and his job description, but it's not as if people can't change. Cass has changed an incredible amount since the first time we saw him. He's shown more emotions than he ever even considered possible. Perhaps Crowley, with a little time and effort, could prove to be the same. Maybe we could brighten some of that darkness in his heart. Maybe I could do something. Locked down here with no other visitors this could be my one chance to make one less enemy. On some days the Winchester's and the King of Hell had become allies in the pursuit of a single threat, so why couldn't that become permanent?

I let out a breath, clearing my throat. Now was as good a time as any to start. "Why are you helping me?"

He gets to the door, about to reach for the handle, when my words hit home. He stops in his tracks, his hand dropping to his side as he turns to face me. He studies my expression, narrowing his eyes with uncertainty. "Because you're not useful to me dead."

I don't know why I expected him to say anything different. He could never say anything endearing unless it was in the form of a joke, so I should've expected this answer, but was he seriously telling the truth right now? Because those eyes of his made him seem like he was hiding a deep truth that he didn't want to reach the surface. I wanted to believe that truth was that he cared so much more than he ever let on. "Is that why you really took my deal? To keep us safe?" I couldn't help but want to fill in the blanks there.

"Don't misunderstand me, Moose." He began, letting out a sigh. "I could care less what happens to you or squirrel, but I need both of you denim-wrapped nightmares to survive. You Winchesters always prove your worth in peril when, you know, you're not trying to lob my head off."

The only way to keep us alive, as far as I knew, was to make that sacrifice I had made that brought me to this point. And Crowley knew that. So, he didn't want my soul after all? He just wanted us to keep surviving? He wanted to keep a pathway between our two forces for some reason, even though it was a pathway plagued with selfish intentions. Somehow, though, we always came back to each other. Which is why we need to keep that pathway open, and it's easiest if we can actually get the King of Hell to stand by our side indefinitely. Though, that's not going to be easy. "You're lying. You cared about him."

It was foolish of me to think the King of Hell had any feelings at all toward me, especially after what I did to him in that church and after, but he did share a strong connection with my brother that no one could deny. There was a bond between them that caused Crowley to answer his calls without hesitation. He scoffed at me. "Seriously, we're going to talk about this now?" He looked around, almost if to make sure we were completely alone. He was always paranoid when it came to personal things.

"Like we have anything else to talk about?" I ask as I lean forward in my chair, quickly licking my chapped lips before speaking again. "You had a thing for my brother, maybe still do, and I get that, so why can't you accept it instead of just lying to yourself? Why can't you talk about it?"

"Because I'm not human, dumb nuts!" He yells back at me, letting his inner frustration out. "If I show one ounce of weakness I'll have a shot at being overthrown, and that's definitely not okay with me! Got it?!"

"That's only if someone knows, though, right?" I ask back. "And no one's going to hear down here besides me, and I've got no one to tell, so tell me."

He blinks for a few seconds. "So, you want me to confide..." He points his finger at my chest. "In you?"

I nod my head. If I can learn more about the personal side of the King of Hell, then just maybe I can keep this rocky road open. "It's not like I don't already know it already, and I know Dean better than anyone, so I'm probably your best shot."

He looked between me and the door, contemplating whether he should actually take me up on my offer or just leave before the conversation went on any longer. He did this for a few minutes, eyes showing so much uncertainty, before he turned back to me and crossed his arms over his chest. He lets out a sigh as he takes a few steps closer, leaning against the wall. He was a bit further away than I expected, but maybe that was because he didn't want me examining all of his expressions as he talked. I couldn't blame him. "Fine, but if any of this leaves this room I will take your soul. No exceptions."

I nodded my head in understanding, but I found a small smile forming on my lips. He didn't even realize that he was contradicting himself. He had said the Winchesters are useful to him alive, and showed that he would help me in order to keep me alive, so there was no way he would take my soul. Oh how easily he forgets his words in making his threats that hold no worth. "Deal."

"You do realize you've just made a deal with the devil?"

I shrugged my shoulders. Between Lucifer and Crowley I'd made plenty of deals. "It wouldn't be the first time."