Revelation (A Supernatural Fanfic)(Destiel and Mooseley)

Revelation l Chapter 5 l Sam Winchester

Revelation l Chapter 5 l Sam Winchester

“Dean!” I yell as he begins to disappear in a flash of black. “I’m sorry!”

My fingertips barely managed to brush the edge of his plaid shirt, the worn material leaving an unpleasant touch to my fingertips. If Dean’s shirts are frayed like that then I could only imagine what his life must be like without me there to stitch him up. I would never even know if he was safe or not. But he had to be, right? That’s my reason for all of this, after all. He had to be okay. Cass would be sure of that.

I wasn’t too pleased with Castiel after what he just did. He brought my brother all the way down her, knowing that I wouldn’t go back with him, and just left our parting even more bittersweet than before. And, even worse, now Dean thinks I completely hate him. Maybe Dean had a right to know and he’ll give up on me after knowing I was okay, but would he destroy himself because of it? There was no way of knowing down here.

“You shouldn’t cry like that, Moose,” the voice beside me consoles. His thick thumbs reaches to erase whatever tears were roaming down my face. “As big as your tears are you’ll end up filling the whole room until you drown.”

I turn my face toward him as he wipes away a tear that had fallen to my cheekbone. I reach my hand up to grab his arm, not forcefully enough to show him I was a threat, but forcefully enough to demand answers. My eyes narrow in confusion. “What is your game, Crowley?”

“My game?” His eyes never show a hint of fear, nor does he find me the least bit intimidating. He was used to me and he knew I had no power down here. He tilts his head, a small grin occupying his face. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean!” I roll my eyes, sick of his roundabout responses. “One minute you’re trying to experiment on me and the next you treat me like I’m your family pet!” I spat at him. “What the hell do you gain from this?! What side are you on?!”

He holds up his other hand in defense, prying my hand from his arm in a gentle way that made me hate him. What kind of right did he have to be kind to me now after all he’s done? “Easy, easy. One question at a time.” He unwrinkled his suit and placed his hands inside his trench coat pockets.

I cross my arms over my chest as I begin my interrogation. “What side are you on?”

“I choose the winning side, Winchester,” He answers, “the side that keeps me in power and others from knocking down my door.”

I figured something like that would be his answer. He was a businessman, after all, always siding with the person who would give him a better shot at survival. He was smart to say the least. Let’s see how he responds to this next question, though. “What is your goal here?”

“Here? In Hell” He clicks his tongue. “Sam, I thought that was quite obvious-“

“No! Not here specifically!” I bark out in frustration, my hands roaming my mane of hair. It had grown a few more inches down here in Hell over the past few months, as did my facial here that was forming black stubble. It always annoyed me how Crowley was always so literal about certain things just to drive you up a wall as opposed to when Cass does it just because he doesn’t understand. Crowley’s ultimate goal, as far as I’m concerned, it to piss everyone off and come out on top. “Keeping me here, locking me up in a room, putting a needle in my neck…” I pause as I recall a similar circumstance in which our places were reversed. A time in which I had inserted blood into his veins and he cried out to me. My fingers rose to the side of my neck, feeling the needle insertion points that had accumulated there over the past few months. I closed my eyes as I remembered those same marks on the side of Crowley’s neck in the church as he cried out for love. “Is this some sort of vengeance for making you a junkie?”