We had stopped to stretch our legs for a minute. Dean was on the phone with Cass, who was tailing the demon Crowley who Bela had apparently given the Colt when she said she'd given it to Lilith.
"Going down?" Dean asked in response to something Cass had said. "Right. Okay, Huggy Bear, just don't lose him."
There was another bout of silence on Dean's end as Cass continued to explain what was happening on his end.
"That's okay, you did great," Dean informed the angel. "We'll take it from here."
⁘
I was dressed in a fine evening gown, my hair curled and pulled back and makeup done. I approached the gate of the large mansion Cass had told us Crowley was at, pressing the button on the intercom.
"Hello?" a voice came through.
"Hello. My car broke down. I- I need some help," I spoke.
"I'll be down in a minute."
I glanced around, the gate opening a moment later and two men approaching. I immediately slipped into 'ditzy girl' mode.
"Evening, pretty lady," one of the men greeted me. "Get yourself on in here."
"I just need to make a call," I shook my head.
"You don't need to call anyone, baby," the same man continued, glancing at his partner. "We're the only help you're ever gonna need."
My skin felt disgusting at his words, and I backed up a step.
"You know what? I think I should wait by my car."
I turned to go, the man who'd spoken to me reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder, eyes flashing black.
"We said, get your ass in here," he snarled.
I shook him off me, flattening him as the other man was stabbed from behind by Ruby's knife. Sam was standing there holding the weapon, and he used it on the man I'd flattened as well.
"Nice work, Ellie Bear," Dean told me, kissing my temple.
"Thanks," I mumbled, feeling heat rising in my cheeks and grateful for the darkness that hid that fact from the boys with me. "Okay. Shall we?"
⁘
After cutting the power to the mansion, I joined the boys, Crowley coming into the room not long after me.
"It's Crowley, right?" Sam asked the demon.
"So. The Hardy boys and Nancy Drew finally found me. Took you long enough."
Crowley stopped short of the rug, crouching and lifting up the edge to see the devil's trap we'd drawn on the underside.
"Do you have any idea how much this rug cost?" he asked in his thick British accent.
Three men came up behind us, disarming us before pinning our arms as Crowley straightened up. He was occupying a shorter man with dark hair and eyes, his hairline receding, and wore a tailored three-piece suit.
"This is it, right?" he asked, holding up the Colt. "This is what it's all about?"
My heart thudded in my chest as he aimed the gun at Dean's head, and then he readjusted sightly, shooting all three of the demons restraining the boys and I.
"We need to talk. Privately."
I exchanged a look with the two brothers before following the demon into the next room.
"What the hell is this?" I demanded.
"Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?"
Crowley waved a hand so the door slammed shut behind Sam and Dean.
"There's no reason you or anyone should know this even exists, except that I told you," the demon continued.
"You told us," Sam repeated.
"Rumors, innuendo, sent out through the grapevine," Crowley dismissed him.
"Why? Why tell us anything?"
I swallowed hard as the gun was once again aimed at Dean's head.
"I want you to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face."
We all blinked at the demon, unsure if we'd heard him correctly.
"Uh huh," Dean nodded slowly, "okay, and why exactly would you want the Devil dead?"
"It's called," Crowley began, dropping the gun on the desk behind him, "survival. Well, I forgot you two at best are functioning morons."
"You're functioning... morons..."
I facepalmed at Dean's lame comeback, not missing how I was being left out once again by one of the supernatural creatures we were talking to. If I hadn't been personally told about the role I'd be playing in this whole damn ordeal, I'd think I wasn't needed and could simply ditch out for a while. Part of me actually considered doing it, given my mental state the past God knew how long. But I wasn't willing to put Dean through that again.
"Lucifer isn't a demon, remember? He's an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of mankind. To him, you're just filthy bags of pus. If that's the way he feels about you, what can he think about us?"
"But he created you," Sam pointed out.
"To him, we're just servants. Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate mankind, we're next. So, help me, huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times, back when we all could follow our natures. I'm in sales, dammit! So, what do you say I give you this thing, and you go kill the Devil?!"
At the end of his speech, Crowley held out the Colt, handle first. Sam and Dean exchanged a look. The demon wiggled the gun, Sam finally reaching out hesitantly to take it.
"Great," he said.
"Great," the demon repeated.
"You wouldn't happen to know where the Devil is, by chance, would you?"
"Thursday, birdies tell me, there's an appointment in Carthage, Missouri."
Sam glanced back at Dean and I, nodding.
"Great."
He turned back aiming the gun point blank between Crowley's eyes. For a brief second, I wished it was me on the receiving end, but then there was a metallic click as nothing but air was expelled from the Colt, and I was brought back to reality.
"Oh, yeah, right, you'll probably need more ammunition," Crowley said, voice impassive as if he hadn't just been shot at by a Winchester.
He moved behind his desk as Dean spoke up.
"Oh, uh, excuse me for asking, but aren't you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the Devil and lose?"
"Number one, he's going to wipe us all away anyway. Two, after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere. And three, HOW ABOUT YOU DON'T MISS, OKAY?! MORONS!"
Crowley threw something to Dean- bullets for the Colt.
"Oh, and you might want to keep an eye on your girl. Lucifer's put a bounty out to anyone who can bring her to him alive."
When Dean looked up from the container, Crowley had vanished.