Two Worlds Combine

Chapter 22

DEANNA'S POV

A 1980s style jukebox in the corner plays the song Bad Company. I look over the scene in front of me. Pools of blood work to stain the carpet of the bar a new crimson red. Sam is digging through the pockets of the dead demons one by one trying to find anything useful to use. Crowley has his back to us by the door. He's on the phone talking in hushed whispers. Sure that's not something we need to worry about. My eyes wander in front of me to my other half strapped to a chair with demon cuffs. Staring at myself is definitely not something I could ever get used to. It's like looking into a funhouse mirror, just minus the fun. 

"You honestly think these will hold me for long?"

She glares up at me while baring her teeth. She pulls against the cuffs in a show of force. They don't budge, but the arms of the chair give a bit. Maybe cuffing her to a cheap-ass bar chair wasn't the smartest idea. 

I smirk, "We just need to hold you long enough for the angels to get here." She furrows her brow and narrows her eyes. "Damn, I can't believe I came from you. So weak as to bow to angels. We shouldn't be bowing to anyone. We should be the ones ruling. We have the power to take what we want and kill who we want."

My jaw tenses as I fold my arms across my chest. I can't believe she came from me either. Have all these years really torn me down this much? To the point where some part of me is capable of becoming this. Sure, the Mark has played its part, but it didn't create what is sitting in front of me. Not really. The remaining humanity I got left is all I have to cling onto. White knuckling it so desperately is all that separates me from her.   "No one is bowing to the angels." She laughs at me but doesn't say anything else. 

Sam walks over to me with a few wads of cash in her hands. She sticks them in her back pocket. "Didn't find anything on the dearly departed demons except their wallets and a few phones. Didn't find any useful info on the phones either." 

I cock my head to the far wall as a signal for Sam to follow me out of earshot of my body snatcher. 

"We got to move. That chair isn't gonna hold for much longer, and I don't want to test our luck on how well those cuffs will work without an anchor point." 

Sam nods, "Yeah, good point. Does Heaven know we have her?"

I look from Sam to my other half, "Yeah, about that. They didn't exactly give me their new business card and I don't really know if praying will work with the... ya know." I flash my eyes to black for a second. She nods while making a face that translates to good point. "To be honest, I don't really know if I want to trust those haloed dicks with the one limited resource that can kill me. It might take an army of demons to kill just one of us but that's all they need to do. And I have a feeling they're willing to sacrifice a few for the many if you know what I mean." 

Sam makes a face, "Deanna when have we ever trusted angels, other than Cas?  We don't exactly have a choice. It's either give them a chance now to do what they say for once or we don't. And you die later when they send an army of angels to hunt you down. Plus, it's not like we can let... you go." She gestures to the figure handcuffed to the chair. 

I think over the possible scenarios of just how well this is all going to end. Like always. "I don't like those options. Is there a secret door number 3?" 

She rolls her eyes, "I wish. I'm gonna go and give praying a shot. Let the angels know where we are."

I watch Sammi walk out of the bar. She's probably going to sit in the impala while she calls out to the angels. I glance to my other half to make sure she's still secure for now. She hasn't stopped glaring at me for one second. I flip her off as I walk over to Crowley. "Hey, listen, Sam's calling the angel squad so maybe you should head on out of here." Crowley puts his phone in his jacket pocket. 

"Your concern for my well-being is making me feel all tingly, Squirellette." 

I bite my lip in passing anger, "Momentarily ignoring the fact that this is entirely your fault." I lean closer to Crowley, lowering my voice for the prying ears in the room, "This ritual the angels claim they can do to make us whole again. You buy it?" 

Crowley smirks, "Always looking to blame the other party, Deanna. Let me ask you this question. Is it my fault that you imbeciles dropped a nuke in my lap and expected me not to take advantage? It's in my nature, after all. Unlike you, I embrace what I am. Sure, I underestimated how powerful the evil inside you could be. After all, when you first ventured down the black-bricked road the worse you wanted to do was kill Abaddon's remaining supporters and sing bad karaoke. So, is this whole thing really my fault for doing what's expected? Or is it the fault of the famous Winchester sisters to trust me, the King of Hell, to not double-cross them when I have never done anything but?" I ball my right hand into a fist from wanting nothing more than to punch his teeth out. It quickly dissolves as I realize he's just telling the truth. This is on me. On Samantha and I. Dean knew better. He begged Sam not to trust Crowley. I didn't give the same fight he did during the initial ritual. Crowley chuckles, "That's what I thought."

Crowley looks at me for a moment then makes eye contact with my lesser half, "To answer your question, Deanna, I sure hope they can restore you whole." He looks back at me with a furrowed brow, "For all our sakes." He vanishes at that and I'm left alone with my lesser half with nothing but Crowley's parting revelation echoing in my head.