Supernatural One-shots

We Meet Again(Final)-Crowley

~(A/N: Hello everybody! Just wondering for those who have already started school, how's it going? Any other seniors out there? Tell me in the comments section if you want and hope you enjoy this oneshot! Also another quick question, for these multiple part oneshots I do, what do you think about alternate endings?)~

Dean banged loudly on the wooden door with his fist. You had located where Helena lived with your awesome tech skills and it was only just a state over from where the bunker was. "Could you knock any louder?" Sam said sarcastically.

Dean didn't even bother to bat an eye, and just knocked again. "Hey! Is anybody home?"

After another round of loud, relentless knocks, the door swung open to reveal a thin woman with black hair and light grey eyes. "What?" she asked impatiently. Her eyes hung low, until she spotted you standing behind Sam and Dean. "You're-but how is that possible..."

"Wait, you know her?" Dean pointed to you as he looked at the woman in confusion. 

"Know her? I killed her," the woman said simply.

"You what?" you, Sam, and Dean asked with wide eyes.

~Time Skip~

Hesitantly, you all agreed to enter the woman's home so she could explain everything. You sat uncomfortably on her couch along with the boys, who were tense as well.

"It was centuries ago, really," the woman said, "(Y/N) came to me asking for a spell to erase her memory, but it went wrong and she died."

"Wait, so you're Ivanna VanBuren? Not her descendant, Helena?" Sam asked.

The witch nodded, "Never had any children. I only took the identity of Helena so people wouldn't get suspicious."

"Okay, so you're telling me that my past self asked you to erase her memory? But why? And if so, why do I have her memories?" you asked.

"She wouldn't tell me why she wanted them erased. But I didn't have the power to completely erase her memories, only to just tuck them away or so I thought," Ivanna explained, "Now for your situation, I'm not sure. Something must have gone wrong with my spell when she died and made it so her soul was stored away as well and passed on through each descendant."

"So you accidentally performed a reincarnation spell?" Sam questioned.

"It seems so. I wasn't that very good at the practice back then anyways," she shrugged, "But it's no matter now. The past (Y/N) is dead. Only her soul lives on, stored away somewhere in you."

"But what does that mean for me? I have some pieces of the puzzle but not the whole picture," You explained, "I want to know why she did it, why she wanted her memories gone so bad." 

"I could try to break the spell, but I can't guarantee that if I unlock her memories, her soul won't take over too," Ivanna gave you a warning look.

None of this had really mattered until you met Crowley. Before him, you lived in oblivion; you were (Y/N), the huntress who loved (favorite food) and (favorite hobby), not this 17th century (Y/N) who was in love with the now present king of Hell.  "Well..." You hesitated.  

"You don't have to go through with this if you don't want to," Dean said, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Whatever you decide, we'll stand by you," Sam added.

"Let's do it," you nodded, making your choice. Even though you couldn't truly understand it, you had some connection to Crowley and you just had to know why your past self wanted to forget about it so badly.

"Okay, I think I have the necessary ingredients in my kitchen," Ivanna stood up, "This won't take too long."

Sam followed the witch into the kitchen to make sure she wasn't planning anything sketchy. "You sure you're up for this?" Dean asked, giving you a worried expression.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I think I was meant to do this sooner or later," you told him.

After a few minutes, Sam and Ivanna came out with a bunch of random ingredients and a large black bowl. Ivanna started preparing the spell, tossing things into the bowl that made puffs of smoke erupt. "Alright, give me your hand," she beckoned, a small knife in hand.

"What are you going to do?" you asked pensively.

"I need a drop of your blood," she answered. You stared back at her hesitantly before she got too impatient and just grabbed your hand herself. "I'm not any threat to you. I'm a good witch, if you haven't realized.

She slit a small cut at the palm of your hand, causing you to flinch a bit. "Ow! Are you sure about that?" you raised a brow as your crimson blood splattered onto the bowl's contents.

Sam handed you a dish cloth once Ivanna let go of your hand. "Thanks Sam," you grimaced as you wrapped your hand.

Ivanna stared chanting in Latin, putting vigor in each word that came from her lips. You never really bothered to learn Latin, which was probably a terrible idea considering you were a hunter and most exorcisms involved Latin. For all you knew, she could be putting some curse on you. Once she was finished, her focus turned back to you. "So?"

"So what?" you asked. You didn't feel any different.

Ivanna sighed, "That should have worked."

"Guess not," you shrugged, "Well we tried-"

You were abruptly interrupted by a sudden sharp pain in your head. It felt like a ton had been dropped onto your head and the pressure was excruciating. The room around you disappeared and you were now in a small cottage. 

In your hand was a letter, written in script. 

Dear (Y/N),

I send my most humble apology darling, for this is farewell. It pains me to write this, but my time has come. I wish not to abandon thee, for my past mistakes hath come forth for repentance.  I wilt never cease loving thee till the ends of time. Take care of our son.

With love,

Fergus

And with that, you were snapped back to reality.  You were no longer in the small cottage and now staring into the dark brown eyes of the king of hell. "Fergus," you muttered breathlessly.

"(Y/N)?" He furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of your new accent.

You placed two hands on his face and pulled him in for a chaste, but passionate kiss. Everything was clear now, you were free. As you pulled away from the kiss, you noticed Sam and Dean frowning in the distance. 

"I'm guessing our (Y/N) is no longer in the building?" Dean asked.

"She is still residing within," you pointed to your heart with a smile. "I've just finally been freed. I can't thank thee enough."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to all this Shakespeare talk," Dean mumbled, causing Sam to elbow him in the side.

"I don't mind it at all," Crowley smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"Never desert me again," you warned him, "Dost thou swear?"

"Cross my heart, darling."