Finally Found

21. First Blade

"Yes, and I love you too," I smiled as I kissed him softly, and pulled away. I smiled as he followed me to the dungeon.

Sam was standing there waiting for us. He walked in the looked at Crowley. "What do you know about the Men of Letters massacre of 1958?"

Dean and I followed in, as Dean spoke up. "We know Abaddon missed our grandfather and Larry Genem. Was there anyone else?"

"Let me get this straight. You keep me locked up in this closet, ignore my suffering, and then come barging in here and demand my help?" I looked at Crowley as he looked at Dean.

"More or less, yeah," Dean replied.

"Did I or did I not keep my end of the bargain the other night? Quite brilliantly, I might ass. We are partners and you owe me!"

"Owe you?" Sam scoffed as he glanced at Dean.

"I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you three. You shoot me up, make me a junkie and keep me stashed away for months while my kingdom falls apart," Crowley yelled.

"What do you want?"

"Scotch, and out of this room. Oh and maybe Cat can do me some, favors," Crowley said eyeing me up and down.

I rolled my eyes and walked out. Dean followed behind as Sam brought Crowley out. Dean was standing in front of me, as Sam lead Crowley. I felt a hand on my ass, and turned around as Crowley pulled his hand away. I swung my hand back, slapping him across his face.

"Next time you wanna sexual assault a woman, I'll kill you," I said as I turned and walked into the study.

Sam took Crowley into the study and handcuffed him to a chair. Dean then again him a glass with whiskey. They started digging through a box of files.

"It's not a very good scotch, is it? Catherine, what do you think?"

"I think you should fucking die," I muttered.

"Okay, Crowley, we have gone through the records for the entire membership in 1958. Every single name matches the men who were killed.

"That would be the active membership, correct," Crowley asked as he flipped through one of the porn mags. Sam rolled his eyes at him, as Crowley spoke back up. "Were you dropped on your heads a great deal? Like I told you, rumor has it that a rogue member was tossed out on his arse. Does that make him active? Seriously, how did you ever function without me?" He started looking at the magazine again. "Well Hello Miss. Ichigastu. You are great to look at, but I have something better in the room," he said as he looked up at me.

Dean glared at him, then picked up a file. "Infamati et obliterati."

"Dishonored and forgotten."

The four of us sat there and read through the files."Wow, this guy was something," Dean said as he handed Sam a piece of paper.

"Tough name," Sam huffed a laugh.

Dean sat beside me as Crowley sat across me and Sam was beside me. I looked up at Crowley, as his eyes were on me. I rolled my eyes and looked at dean. They were talking about a man names Cuthbert Sinclair who designed most of the warding that keeps the bunker safe and that he was named "Master or Spell" right after he was initiated.

"Ok, so these are the projects that he proposed the last two years he was here. Look at this. Rejected. Rejected. Rejected," Dean said as he looked at the files.

"So difficult. Brilliant, ahead of your time, despised for it. Trust me, I know," Crowley said.

"Formal separation from Men of Letters, April 1956," Dean read from the file.