spn fic: "King of the Crossroads" (5.22+, PG)
title: "King of the Crossroads"
author: fannishliss
rated: PG
warnings: oblique mention of underage sexual abuse. spoilers for 5.22. Castiel pov, Sam, and special Guests!
words: 2300
disclaimer: This story proceeds from the challenging and evocative scenario set forth at the end of 5.22. Thanks to Kripke and everyone at spn for their fantastic work. This story follows on from the Promise verse. Comments and concrit are sincerely appreciated.
Summary: Sam's working with demons, but he want to stop Hell from making more of them.
Master List for the Promise 'verse (5.22+)
i. " not the burnt and broken" (Dean pov)
ii. " blind, without a blow" (Lucifer pov)
iii. " Ground Rules" (Lisa pov)
iv. " two-edged, golden, sanguine" (Sam in Hell)
v. " Keeping the Promise" (Dean and Lisa)
vi. " illumine our tempestuous day" (Sam's return)
vii. " dayenu" (Lisa pov)
viii. " shades of gray" (Sam and Castiel converse)
~*o*~
Ash ran Heaven's upgrade out of the grimy backroom with "Dr. Badass" on the door. When Dr. Badass paged him, Heaven's remaining resident Archangel took the call.
Ash liked to think of it as a beeper tuned in to the standing wave around the edge of the universe. Castiel just called it a beeper.
He phased into comprehensibility at the bar of the Roadhouse. Ash, as usual, was refreshing himself with a cold one.
"I got a fix on one for you. Here's the GPS-- you're good to go."
"Thanks." Castiel offered Ash his fist, and the hacker pounded it solemnly.
"Least I can do. You need me, I'll be at Monsters of Rock 1988, Mile High Stadium. Dokken, man." Ash threw horns as Castiel vanished.
Castiel also had Sam on an open channel, and Sam was shutting his book as Castiel appeared.
"Let's go."
***
Midnight, of course, a crossroads. A desperate girl buried a box, scrabbling at the dirt, tears streaming down her face.
The demon had grabbed a body that was tall, powerful, full of confidence.
"Please, it's my mom's boyfriend. You've got to stop him. When it was just me, I, but now, it's my little sister..."
The demon's eyes shone red as he stepped forward to seal the deal. But before they could kiss, Sam's hand came down on the demon's shoulder.
Castiel stood in the background, watching. Sam was born for this. Though the demon had chosen a tall and commanding vessel, Sam put him to shame. Sam carried himself with majesty now, and the demon knew him instantly.
Castiel watched, fascinated, as Sam's aura expanded, white and gold. To the Angel, the crossroads was bright as day, the demon in the vessel a black hole sucking in the light, and the girl a weeping mess of blue and magenta, torn and desperate.
"Do you know who I am?" Sam said, gently. He had no need for empty threats. The air around him thrummed with power.
The demon tried to cringe away, but with a twist of his hand, Sam easily held it still.
"Sam Winchester, lord," the demon whispered.
"Yes, and do you know what I want?" Sam asked.
"I don't understand, lord, please. I can't make a deal without a soul to seal it."
"Don't make a deal. Leave the girl her soul. Do her a kindness," Sam suggested.
The demon's red eyes shone as it glared at Sam in confusion.
"I know what you are," Sam said. The surge of power in Sam's words shook the demon, and it fell to its knees. "Do you want me to destroy you? send you back to hell? or give you a chance to go free?"
The demon huddled there in the dirt. "Please, lord, don't send me back. I'll serve you, just tell me what to do."
"Look in your heart, demon. How can you help the girl?" Sam said slowly.
The demon paused, and Sam didn't rush it. "Her mother has brought a bad man into the house. He's destroying her family, tearing them apart. I remember ... men like that. I could... stop him."
"Do justice, and love mercy, and remember who set you free," Sam said. "And find a vessel that's empty -- this one is suffering."
"I'm sorry, my lord. I'll do everything you say." The hope that rose up in the demon never ceased to astonish Castiel, as he saw its murky core began to glimmer.
"Comfort this girl, and help her, and remember, I'm your lord now. You belong to me."
"Yes, my lord," the demon said, and as it knelt up to kiss Sam's hand, Castiel saw a beam of pure light shine from the depths of its ravaged soul as it placed its trust in Sam.
"Who are you?" the girl asked Sam and Castiel, but in a moment they were gone, and the crossroads demon took her hand to lead her home.
***
Sam's room was bland and functional. It could have been anywhere, completely unlike the garish rooms Dean Winchester unerringly picked out. The only thing that made it stand out was the many dusty old books scattered around. Some were in Enochian, Sam's fluency in the Angelic tongue one of the benefits he'd derived from Lucifer's possession.
Castiel picked one up at random: Arcana of the Fallen. There but for... well, something anyway, thought Castiel. He tossed the book aside.
"That makes how many now?"
"At least a dozen," Sam answered offhandedly.
"The harvest is great but the laborers are few -- still, it's more than a dozen, Sam."
"Well, it's good work, but I'm getting tired of waiting for him to bite."
"We haven't got much choice, since he's gone to ground. Ash hasn't caught his signature, so his methods won't work. How are the reports?"
"Some better than others, but so far so good. You've seen it yourself, Cas. Their auras are brightening day by day. "
"It's better than I dared hope," Castiel agreed, but a frown of regret shadowed his accustomed visage.
Sam understood his sorrow. "With Dean you just didn't have the time."
"I regret that, Sam, very much -- I wish I had known to question my orders, back then."
"What about your subordinates now, do they question?"
"I don't know," Castiel answered flatly.
"Should they?" Sam pressed.
"I don't know," the Archangel responded, a little angrily. "It's not as though God talks to me."
"The little jerk," Sam muttered.
"Sam!" Castiel, for all he had lived through, still couldn't abide blasphemy.
"I'm sorry, it just irks me, you know? All that time."
"Ours is not to question -- "
"--except how we were just saying that we should have... "
"Yeah. Yes. It's still hard to believe, though, that I'm the only Archangel left in Heaven, that I've seen God face to face, and didn't even recognize him." Castiel had gone looking for Rafael, but found only his abandoned sword, the traces of his wings stretching across the scorched ring of the holy fire. All signs seemed to point toward his death being self-inflicted.
"Do you think God will bring any other Angels back?"
"God brought me back, so there's always a chance... but so far, I seem to be the exception, not the rule. "
Sam's cell phone rang. He didn't trust his demons enough yet to give them a key to his location. It was Ayisha, so Sam picked up.
"My lord, it's Crowley. He wants to meet with you."
"You're kidding. When?"
"As soon as you say. He's ready to talk."
***
Of course Crowley would choose consecrated ground. He met them at the National Cathedral in Washington -- a Gothic cathedral, young, but big and majestic. Castiel liked the symmetry.
Sam and Crowley walked along the aisle, the glory of the stained glass windows illuminating allegories overhead, while Castiel skulked behind them, an ad salesman on holiday. Crowley was a mess, and Sam had to point it out.
"Little bit shabby there, Crowley," Sam grinned.
"You wanted to see me, I'm here. Get to the point, Winchester," Crowley snapped.
"Okay. You hold the marker on Bobby Singer's soul, and I need you to hand it over."
Crowley met his eye with a steady glare. "Why would I do that? It's my only bargaining chip."
"Well, if you want to leave now, you can try and see how far you get."
Crowley glared at Sam with a sarcastic twist to his lips, but Sam had cast a net of power around Crowley as soon as he laid eyes on the demon. Sweat broke out on Crowley's brow as he panicked at being so easily caught. Castiel could see the demon contracting tightly away from the white-hot net, his power pulsing in vain as he struggled within Sam's grasp.
"Hopped up on demon blood again, Sam?" Crowley sneered, gingerly sending out tentacles of power to probe at the net.
"Nope, I'm clean as a whistle and better than new. This is all me. I'm nothing you've seen before." Sam tweaked the lines gently and let Crowley feel it.
Crowley's eyes widened. "What are you gonna do?"
"I could sear you to dust in a heartbeat if I wanted. But really, like I said, I just want the marker on Bobby's soul. And one more thing."
Crowley narrowed his eyes. "What."
The slight smile on Sam's lips as he casually made his offer reminded Castiel of Lucifer. "I want you back as King of the Crossroads."
Crowley laughed heartily till he realized Sam was serious. Then he instantly flew into a rage.
"I was doing fine til you assholes came along!" Crowley's enraged tones raised eyebrows among the tourists and pilgrims.
Sam got serious as well. "You stuck your nose into our crap, Crowley. Now just listen to my proposition."
"Oh, I'm gonna love this," Crowley said sarcastically.
Sam nodded. "I think you will. I want to make you a god."
Crowley boggled. "A god."
Castiel knew his sense of humor wasn't the most attuned, but he had to admit it was fun watching Sam dangle Crowley on his hook.
"Yes, a god," replied Sam. "Better than a demon, am I right?"
"Maybe," Crowley hedged.
"Definitely," Sam smiled grimly.
Crowley coughed. "And how do you propose?"
"There's a power vacuum in hell, right? Lilith ran the crossroads and you were her right hand man. Now she's dead, Lucifer's back in the cage, and instead of ruling the roost, your'e in hiding from Castiel and me."
"Yeah, thanks for that."
"You're welcome. Actually with Lucifer and Michael working out their troubles, Hell should be getting less hellish by the day. Now we've got to convince the demons to come in from the cold."
"What the hell are you on about?"
"Do you remember your life on earth?
Crowley went still, and as much as he might want to cover it, his face betrayed a trace of longing.
Sam leaned in on him. "I thought so. You want it, right? You crave it. You all do. Ruby told me once that every demon in Hell was once human.... now, I know that's not true... there are a handful of fallen angels, some ancient gods, a few of the old nephilim.... but a lot of you were once human. I don't see any reason why you can't be rehabilitated."
"You have a lot of nerve," Crowley ground out.
"I do, yes. My brother was in Hell, and he's one hundred percent human now."
"He was in Hell for four months!" Crowley kept his voice at a harsh whisper this time.
"I realize that. But if there's even a spark of humanity left in a demon, that spark can be nourished.... "
"What gives you the right?" Crowley's voice broke with rage.
"I'm not claiming any special right, but I have powers now you never even dreamed of. I can see straight into your heart, Crowley. Your soul burns brighter than you admit, or even suspect. Your sense of fairplay, a fighting chance, a bit of street justice. It's why I think you'd make a good king. You have a sense of humor."
Crowley looked more closely at Sam. "You're not taking the piss out of me, are you. Go on."
"All I'm saying is, tell your foot soldiers to find empty vessels. Then we start playing the crossroads for justice and see what happens."
Crowley laughed harshly. "Justice. What does that even mean?"
"I think you know what I mean. You know Ayisha's been working for me, and already her aura is substantially clearer. She's rescued kids from abusive homes, helped wives get away from bad husbands, and left a boatload of evidence against corrupt middle managers for DA's all around the country. There's good to be done, and you could be worshipped for it."
"Worshipped?" Crowley said. He wanted to sound skeptical, but Castiel thought he sounded hungry.
"Yeah. Till now you've gotten your mojo up from the energy of souls supplicating to you in Hell. The energy's cleaner and stronger if they're living humans, trust me on this. You'll be a god within a year."
"And your Archangel is okay with this? setting up false gods before the Lord?"
Castiel cleared his throat, an old habit. "My attitude towards false gods is substantially different now, than it was before I realized how long Gabriel was possessing a Trickster ... and how Lucifer's power as an archangel was multiplied exponentially by the millions of human hearts that fear him."
Sam broke in. "Dude, if God has a problem with our plan, let him say so. I mean, it's not like he can't find us."
"Point. So you're not setting me up for a celestial smackdown?"
"We can't be sure of that," Castiel admitted.
"--but I'd say it's unlikely," Sam continued. "If this works out, we'd be doing a lot of good -- helping petitioners without making them sell their souls... helping demons redeem themselves by doing good works... --and all you have to do is supervise and breathe in the incense."
"But why should I work for you? Why don't I set up shop without you?"
"Because you'll be these demons' boss, but I'm their Lord. Cas and I are gonna set them free. Without me, you won't have a workforce, which I'm pretty sure is why you showed up here in the first place."
Flexing his hand minutely, Crowley betrayed his stress as he tried to worry a hole in Sam's scheme, but it was airtight.
Showing his teeth, the demon smiled.
"All right," Crowley growled. "I'm in."
"You know, Crowley, I'm open minded. You can kiss me if you want," Sam said.
author: fannishliss
rated: PG
warnings: oblique mention of underage sexual abuse. spoilers for 5.22. Castiel pov, Sam, and special Guests!
words: 2300
disclaimer: This story proceeds from the challenging and evocative scenario set forth at the end of 5.22. Thanks to Kripke and everyone at spn for their fantastic work. This story follows on from the Promise verse. Comments and concrit are sincerely appreciated.
Summary: Sam's working with demons, but he want to stop Hell from making more of them.
Master List for the Promise 'verse (5.22+)
i. " not the burnt and broken" (Dean pov)
ii. " blind, without a blow" (Lucifer pov)
iii. " Ground Rules" (Lisa pov)
iv. " two-edged, golden, sanguine" (Sam in Hell)
v. " Keeping the Promise" (Dean and Lisa)
vi. " illumine our tempestuous day" (Sam's return)
vii. " dayenu" (Lisa pov)
viii. " shades of gray" (Sam and Castiel converse)
~*o*~
Ash ran Heaven's upgrade out of the grimy backroom with "Dr. Badass" on the door. When Dr. Badass paged him, Heaven's remaining resident Archangel took the call.
Ash liked to think of it as a beeper tuned in to the standing wave around the edge of the universe. Castiel just called it a beeper.
He phased into comprehensibility at the bar of the Roadhouse. Ash, as usual, was refreshing himself with a cold one.
"I got a fix on one for you. Here's the GPS-- you're good to go."
"Thanks." Castiel offered Ash his fist, and the hacker pounded it solemnly.
"Least I can do. You need me, I'll be at Monsters of Rock 1988, Mile High Stadium. Dokken, man." Ash threw horns as Castiel vanished.
Castiel also had Sam on an open channel, and Sam was shutting his book as Castiel appeared.
"Let's go."
***
Midnight, of course, a crossroads. A desperate girl buried a box, scrabbling at the dirt, tears streaming down her face.
The demon had grabbed a body that was tall, powerful, full of confidence.
"Please, it's my mom's boyfriend. You've got to stop him. When it was just me, I, but now, it's my little sister..."
The demon's eyes shone red as he stepped forward to seal the deal. But before they could kiss, Sam's hand came down on the demon's shoulder.
Castiel stood in the background, watching. Sam was born for this. Though the demon had chosen a tall and commanding vessel, Sam put him to shame. Sam carried himself with majesty now, and the demon knew him instantly.
Castiel watched, fascinated, as Sam's aura expanded, white and gold. To the Angel, the crossroads was bright as day, the demon in the vessel a black hole sucking in the light, and the girl a weeping mess of blue and magenta, torn and desperate.
"Do you know who I am?" Sam said, gently. He had no need for empty threats. The air around him thrummed with power.
The demon tried to cringe away, but with a twist of his hand, Sam easily held it still.
"Sam Winchester, lord," the demon whispered.
"Yes, and do you know what I want?" Sam asked.
"I don't understand, lord, please. I can't make a deal without a soul to seal it."
"Don't make a deal. Leave the girl her soul. Do her a kindness," Sam suggested.
The demon's red eyes shone as it glared at Sam in confusion.
"I know what you are," Sam said. The surge of power in Sam's words shook the demon, and it fell to its knees. "Do you want me to destroy you? send you back to hell? or give you a chance to go free?"
The demon huddled there in the dirt. "Please, lord, don't send me back. I'll serve you, just tell me what to do."
"Look in your heart, demon. How can you help the girl?" Sam said slowly.
The demon paused, and Sam didn't rush it. "Her mother has brought a bad man into the house. He's destroying her family, tearing them apart. I remember ... men like that. I could... stop him."
"Do justice, and love mercy, and remember who set you free," Sam said. "And find a vessel that's empty -- this one is suffering."
"I'm sorry, my lord. I'll do everything you say." The hope that rose up in the demon never ceased to astonish Castiel, as he saw its murky core began to glimmer.
"Comfort this girl, and help her, and remember, I'm your lord now. You belong to me."
"Yes, my lord," the demon said, and as it knelt up to kiss Sam's hand, Castiel saw a beam of pure light shine from the depths of its ravaged soul as it placed its trust in Sam.
"Who are you?" the girl asked Sam and Castiel, but in a moment they were gone, and the crossroads demon took her hand to lead her home.
***
Sam's room was bland and functional. It could have been anywhere, completely unlike the garish rooms Dean Winchester unerringly picked out. The only thing that made it stand out was the many dusty old books scattered around. Some were in Enochian, Sam's fluency in the Angelic tongue one of the benefits he'd derived from Lucifer's possession.
Castiel picked one up at random: Arcana of the Fallen. There but for... well, something anyway, thought Castiel. He tossed the book aside.
"That makes how many now?"
"At least a dozen," Sam answered offhandedly.
"The harvest is great but the laborers are few -- still, it's more than a dozen, Sam."
"Well, it's good work, but I'm getting tired of waiting for him to bite."
"We haven't got much choice, since he's gone to ground. Ash hasn't caught his signature, so his methods won't work. How are the reports?"
"Some better than others, but so far so good. You've seen it yourself, Cas. Their auras are brightening day by day. "
"It's better than I dared hope," Castiel agreed, but a frown of regret shadowed his accustomed visage.
Sam understood his sorrow. "With Dean you just didn't have the time."
"I regret that, Sam, very much -- I wish I had known to question my orders, back then."
"What about your subordinates now, do they question?"
"I don't know," Castiel answered flatly.
"Should they?" Sam pressed.
"I don't know," the Archangel responded, a little angrily. "It's not as though God talks to me."
"The little jerk," Sam muttered.
"Sam!" Castiel, for all he had lived through, still couldn't abide blasphemy.
"I'm sorry, it just irks me, you know? All that time."
"Ours is not to question -- "
"--except how we were just saying that we should have... "
"Yeah. Yes. It's still hard to believe, though, that I'm the only Archangel left in Heaven, that I've seen God face to face, and didn't even recognize him." Castiel had gone looking for Rafael, but found only his abandoned sword, the traces of his wings stretching across the scorched ring of the holy fire. All signs seemed to point toward his death being self-inflicted.
"Do you think God will bring any other Angels back?"
"God brought me back, so there's always a chance... but so far, I seem to be the exception, not the rule. "
Sam's cell phone rang. He didn't trust his demons enough yet to give them a key to his location. It was Ayisha, so Sam picked up.
"My lord, it's Crowley. He wants to meet with you."
"You're kidding. When?"
"As soon as you say. He's ready to talk."
***
Of course Crowley would choose consecrated ground. He met them at the National Cathedral in Washington -- a Gothic cathedral, young, but big and majestic. Castiel liked the symmetry.
Sam and Crowley walked along the aisle, the glory of the stained glass windows illuminating allegories overhead, while Castiel skulked behind them, an ad salesman on holiday. Crowley was a mess, and Sam had to point it out.
"Little bit shabby there, Crowley," Sam grinned.
"You wanted to see me, I'm here. Get to the point, Winchester," Crowley snapped.
"Okay. You hold the marker on Bobby Singer's soul, and I need you to hand it over."
Crowley met his eye with a steady glare. "Why would I do that? It's my only bargaining chip."
"Well, if you want to leave now, you can try and see how far you get."
Crowley glared at Sam with a sarcastic twist to his lips, but Sam had cast a net of power around Crowley as soon as he laid eyes on the demon. Sweat broke out on Crowley's brow as he panicked at being so easily caught. Castiel could see the demon contracting tightly away from the white-hot net, his power pulsing in vain as he struggled within Sam's grasp.
"Hopped up on demon blood again, Sam?" Crowley sneered, gingerly sending out tentacles of power to probe at the net.
"Nope, I'm clean as a whistle and better than new. This is all me. I'm nothing you've seen before." Sam tweaked the lines gently and let Crowley feel it.
Crowley's eyes widened. "What are you gonna do?"
"I could sear you to dust in a heartbeat if I wanted. But really, like I said, I just want the marker on Bobby's soul. And one more thing."
Crowley narrowed his eyes. "What."
The slight smile on Sam's lips as he casually made his offer reminded Castiel of Lucifer. "I want you back as King of the Crossroads."
Crowley laughed heartily till he realized Sam was serious. Then he instantly flew into a rage.
"I was doing fine til you assholes came along!" Crowley's enraged tones raised eyebrows among the tourists and pilgrims.
Sam got serious as well. "You stuck your nose into our crap, Crowley. Now just listen to my proposition."
"Oh, I'm gonna love this," Crowley said sarcastically.
Sam nodded. "I think you will. I want to make you a god."
Crowley boggled. "A god."
Castiel knew his sense of humor wasn't the most attuned, but he had to admit it was fun watching Sam dangle Crowley on his hook.
"Yes, a god," replied Sam. "Better than a demon, am I right?"
"Maybe," Crowley hedged.
"Definitely," Sam smiled grimly.
Crowley coughed. "And how do you propose?"
"There's a power vacuum in hell, right? Lilith ran the crossroads and you were her right hand man. Now she's dead, Lucifer's back in the cage, and instead of ruling the roost, your'e in hiding from Castiel and me."
"Yeah, thanks for that."
"You're welcome. Actually with Lucifer and Michael working out their troubles, Hell should be getting less hellish by the day. Now we've got to convince the demons to come in from the cold."
"What the hell are you on about?"
"Do you remember your life on earth?
Crowley went still, and as much as he might want to cover it, his face betrayed a trace of longing.
Sam leaned in on him. "I thought so. You want it, right? You crave it. You all do. Ruby told me once that every demon in Hell was once human.... now, I know that's not true... there are a handful of fallen angels, some ancient gods, a few of the old nephilim.... but a lot of you were once human. I don't see any reason why you can't be rehabilitated."
"You have a lot of nerve," Crowley ground out.
"I do, yes. My brother was in Hell, and he's one hundred percent human now."
"He was in Hell for four months!" Crowley kept his voice at a harsh whisper this time.
"I realize that. But if there's even a spark of humanity left in a demon, that spark can be nourished.... "
"What gives you the right?" Crowley's voice broke with rage.
"I'm not claiming any special right, but I have powers now you never even dreamed of. I can see straight into your heart, Crowley. Your soul burns brighter than you admit, or even suspect. Your sense of fairplay, a fighting chance, a bit of street justice. It's why I think you'd make a good king. You have a sense of humor."
Crowley looked more closely at Sam. "You're not taking the piss out of me, are you. Go on."
"All I'm saying is, tell your foot soldiers to find empty vessels. Then we start playing the crossroads for justice and see what happens."
Crowley laughed harshly. "Justice. What does that even mean?"
"I think you know what I mean. You know Ayisha's been working for me, and already her aura is substantially clearer. She's rescued kids from abusive homes, helped wives get away from bad husbands, and left a boatload of evidence against corrupt middle managers for DA's all around the country. There's good to be done, and you could be worshipped for it."
"Worshipped?" Crowley said. He wanted to sound skeptical, but Castiel thought he sounded hungry.
"Yeah. Till now you've gotten your mojo up from the energy of souls supplicating to you in Hell. The energy's cleaner and stronger if they're living humans, trust me on this. You'll be a god within a year."
"And your Archangel is okay with this? setting up false gods before the Lord?"
Castiel cleared his throat, an old habit. "My attitude towards false gods is substantially different now, than it was before I realized how long Gabriel was possessing a Trickster ... and how Lucifer's power as an archangel was multiplied exponentially by the millions of human hearts that fear him."
Sam broke in. "Dude, if God has a problem with our plan, let him say so. I mean, it's not like he can't find us."
"Point. So you're not setting me up for a celestial smackdown?"
"We can't be sure of that," Castiel admitted.
"--but I'd say it's unlikely," Sam continued. "If this works out, we'd be doing a lot of good -- helping petitioners without making them sell their souls... helping demons redeem themselves by doing good works... --and all you have to do is supervise and breathe in the incense."
"But why should I work for you? Why don't I set up shop without you?"
"Because you'll be these demons' boss, but I'm their Lord. Cas and I are gonna set them free. Without me, you won't have a workforce, which I'm pretty sure is why you showed up here in the first place."
Flexing his hand minutely, Crowley betrayed his stress as he tried to worry a hole in Sam's scheme, but it was airtight.
Showing his teeth, the demon smiled.
"All right," Crowley growled. "I'm in."
"You know, Crowley, I'm open minded. You can kiss me if you want," Sam said.