"Okay?" Crowley nodded, leaning against the wall nearest to him.

"That boy...he wasn't normal, even for a supernatural being. We've been taking care of him for a week, nursing him back to health, but we found out something that was...interesting, to say the least, about him." Stiles mumbled the last part. He breathed in deep, waiting to hear what the Kings response was before telling him the big news.

"What's the whole point of this story?" Crowley asked. The story didn't bother him, but there was something about the way that Stiles held himself while telling it that chilled him.

"His name is Jamaye Vladimir Crow." Stiles said softly, looking into Crowleys eyes as he said the words that would haunt the King forever.

"He's your son."

.....

It was getting dark in Beacon Hills. Stiles, Dean, and Gabe left

"It's okay, Jamie. Just calm down." Scott said softly, breathing in deep. Jamie concentrated once more, trying to turn into his Alpha form. They had figured out a few days ago, that the form that he turned into when fighting off the hunter was only his Beta form, because he had accidentally shifted into something bigger during a training session.

Jamie tried again, closing his eyes and trying to will himself to grow, but it wasn't working. Jamie slammed his fists into a nearby tree, making it shatter.

There were small, black flames crawling up his arms, but they felt cool, and soft. He looked down at his arms, and focused on the flames, making them migrate to the palm of his hands. He smiled, looking at Scott, only to see him staring at Jamie's hands in shock.

Jamie laughed at Scott, throwing his head back and clutching his stomach. Scott smiled at the young prince, crossing his arms.

"Dinner's ready!" Derek yelled from the house. The pack that was outside perked up, running towards the door.

Jamie ran into the house, smelling steamed vegetables, roasted chicken, and mashed potatoes with butter. The past week that had been feeding him soft foods and liquids while his stomach healed. This would be the first home cooked meal he would have since his mother died.

Jamie's eyes started to water, making some members of the pack worry.

"Jamie...Jamie, what's wrong?" Derek asked, walking up to him. Jamie wiped his eyes, sniffling and shaking his head.

"This...I haven't had a home cooked meal since my m-mom..." Jamie said, looking down. Derek grabbed his shoulders and squeezed comfortingly. He had the same feeling when Stiles cooked for him for the first time.

"It's okay. I felt the same way when I first got with Stiles. It's always hard at first, but it gets better." Derek said, bringing Jamie in for a quick hug. Jamie nodded into Derek's chest, and smiled, pulling back to sit on a chair.

"Let's eat!" Derek said, smiling, clapping his hands. Jamie picked up the fork and knife that was by his plate and started to eat.

The table erupted in laughter and loud voices all around him, and he felt content. The pack wasn't monsters like his 'father' and the Dark Angels thought they were, they were just a big family, trying to protect eachother. Nothing was harmless about them, they were all some type of supernatural creature, including himself, but there was some security in knowing that you could protect yourself and the ones you love.

"Hey, Jamie...are you okay?" Scott asked, his mouth full of mashed potatoes and chicken. Jamie smiled and nodded, trying to open his mouth to say something, but nothing would come out.

"I'm sorry, my Prince." An old, gravely woman's voice said in his head before his stomach started to churn.

Jamie's eyes widened, a sharp pain brewing in his stomach. He screamed in agony as he doubled over. He didn't know what was happening.

He faintly heard someone calling his name through the rhythmic pounding in his head, but the pain didn't let him latch on. Jamie started to cough, and blood pooled all around the floor. His eyes started to glaze over, turning completely white.

Jamie stood up calmly, robotically, and he couldn't stop it. It felt like someone was using his body, possessing him.

He dipped his hand into his warm blood, sneering it across the floor and walls, drawing random symbols in some ancient, cryptic language. The symbols started to glow.

Cas turned abruptly, staring off into the trees. He gaped, and yelled.

"Get down!"

Was the last thing they all hear before the windows shattered, and the blinding light brought them all on the brink of unconsciousness.

.....

"My son..." Crowley whispered dumbly, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. He looked at each of their faces, searching for any lies or deceivemnet.

Crowleys wife had told him, around 20 years ago that they were expecting, but she had told him that the pregnancy had ended in a miscarriage. Crowley was heartbroken when he found out, and had broken down, shutting almost everyone out. His wife had left that year, going on a mission from Lucifer and had never returned.

He had felt Claudia's soul when she died, and knew that it was fading into the afterlife, into Hell with him, but he had no idea where she was. He was still looking for her.

"M-my son..." Crowley said again, slowly. He looked up at Stiles, then to Dean and Gabe.

"A-are you sure he's my son? Please tell me he's actually my son and you're all not just going on a whim here." Crowley begged, happy tears rolling down his face when Stiles nodded.

Crowley laughed, wiping away more tears while he got up to bring them all into a hug.

"Thank you...Thank you so much." Crowley said, pulling back, but there was a sudden ache in his chest. He brushed it away momentarily, thinking that it was the emotions, but when he saw that Stiles was hurting in the exact same spot, he knew something was wrong.

Stiles gasped, pain guzzling up his spine while he clutched his chest.

Something was so very, very wrong.

"There's something wrong...with the pack..." Stiles strained out through the pain. He looked up at Crowley for a second, noticing that his eyes had glazed over to all white and he was shaking.

"Crowley, what's happening?" Dean asked, worried. Crowley and him weren't exactly friends, but the last few times they had summoned him, they were on the same side. He had bonded with the man over cheap beer and exorcisms, and he had never seen him do this before.

"My son...summoned a high level...demon, and it's affecting...my powers..." Crowley gasped out.

Stiles and Crowley suddenly both fell to the floor, unconcious, but they were glowing a light, shimmering white color.

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