Blind Trust 2/3

[rayhne]

Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Crowley/Bobby
Rating: R for Graphic Sex, Rape, Language, Torture
Summary: Bobby finds an injured Crowley on his doorstep.

Crowley frowned as he heard the door close. What was that all about? He ran through what he could have done to upset the hunter and couldn't find anything. So maybe it wasn't him. Maybe he'd read something in the paper or something. With a shrug he turned back to the roast, waiting for the ding that would tell him the oven was ready for it.

He was surprised at himself, surprised at how easily he accepted his blindness and his powerlessness. Granted some days he was so scared and so depressed he just wanted to find the Colt and end his existence. A blind demon? One that was powerless to boot and trapped in a human body? By all rights he should be in Hell, the plaything of any demon who wanted him. He shuddered at the memory of his months as a captive to the human hunters. They may have only been human but the tortures they devised were worthy of demons. Maybe even worthy of Lucifer himself.

He forced those memories away as the oven finally dinged and opened the door to slide the roast in. He wasn't a captive any longer. He had a safe place to live, complete with an interesting companion. His life, compared to what it could be, was paradise.

The door opened behind him and he canted his head. "Bobby, I was thinking ..." He let his voice trail off, terror drying his mouth as he realized belatingly that the footsteps approaching were heavier then Bobby's. "Who?" He heard the unmistakable sound of a weapon being readied and he grasped the counter edge tightly, hoping that his knees didn't give out.

"Where the hell's Bobby?"

Crowley almost fainted at the sound of a familiar voice, though he wasn't sure if it was from relief or terror. "Winchester?" He refused to turn around, knowing that Dean would see his blind eyes. "Bobby went for a walk." He straightened, gathering what remained of his dignity like a cloak.

"What are you doing here?"

Crowley tipped his head. Dean, he knew, called every couple weeks but Bobby had never told him of his demonic guest. But what else could he say? "I live here."

"You what? Like hell!"

His fingers tightened on the counter. "I do! Have been for a while. Bobby probably didn't want you going off half-cocked about it and ..."

The door slammed open and Crowley fell silent, relief flooding him.

"Damn it, Dean! You couldn't call ahead?" Bobby said in disgust. "Put that damn thing away. You ain't shooting him. I'm the only one who gets to do that."

Crowley smiled.

ooOoo

Bobby's first thought on seeing the Impala was a happy one that Dean had finally come to visit. The second was that Dean didn't know about Crowley and that couldn't end well. He swore and ran to the house, throwing open the door in time to see Dean leveling a rifle at the demon's ... his demon, damn it! ... back.

"Damn it, Dean! You couldn't call ahead? Put that damn thing away. You ain't shooting him. I'm the only one who gets to do that." He saw Crowley sag in relief.

"Bobby? What the hell's he doing here?" Dean gestured at Crowley with the rifle.

"He lives here. Now put it down!" Bobby wasn't certain what he'd do if Dean didn't put it down.

After a moment Dean finally lowered the rifle, his lips thin with anger. "What's he doing living here?"

"Nowhere else to go." Bobby grunted. "Besides ..."

"Bobby. No." Crowley's words were a plea.

Bobby shook his head. "He's gonna figure it out. Might as well just tell him."

Crowley frowned but didn't protest again. Instead he turned to face the hunters, his eyes open. At the sight of his eyes Dean gasped and started to raise the rifle but Bobby grabbed it and held the muzzle pointed to the ground.

"Stop it, Dean. Crowley's blind."

"What?" Dean looked from Bobby back to Crowley. "Lilith had white eyes."

"Lilith had white eyes because she was that kind of demon. Crowley has white eyes because some fucking bastards spent a year pouring holy water into them, making him blind." Bobby said with a trace of bitterness. "Trust me. Crowley's blind. And powerless."

"What? How?" Dean gripped the rifle as Bobby tried to take it away then, at the older man's frown, finally released it.

"We don't know." Bobby put the gun away. "I found him on my porch some months ago. He's been here ever since. Didn't want to let anyone else know he was here."

"I can understand that." Dean watched Crowley warily but the demon ignored him as he turned back to clean the counter. "How'd he get here?"

Bobby's lips thinned. "I don't know and neither does he. Crowley, we're going for a walk."

Crowley nodded. "Apple cobbler for dessert?"

"Sure. Think you can handle it?"

Crowley smiled. "I can only try."

Bobby shook his head. "Go for it. Don't set the house on fire."

The demon sniffed at that and the two men walked from the house.

Bobby lead Dean away from the house before he started speaking again. "Don't know how he got here. Wasn't under his own power. He was so weak he could barely stand. He'd been ..." Bobby hesitated then went for bluntness. "He'd been tortured and gang-raped repeatedly over several months. Took me some time to get him to trust me enough to even get near him."

Dean winced. "Well, what can you expect from demons," he started.

"Wasn't demons." Bobby's voice was harsh. "Humans. Hunters maybe. They figured out a way to bind him, render him powerless then they turned him into a toy." His anger showed in the way he spit out the words. He visibly took control of himself, kicking at a stone in his path. "I don't know who they are but they are some seriously sick bastards. The things they did to him ..."

"Worse then what demons do to humans?" Dean asked sharply.

Bobby stopped dead. "Maybe not but that doesn't excuse them. Does it?" He glared at the younger hunter.

Dean hunched his shoulders. "Maybe not but I can understand ..."

"Understand what? Tying a demon down with ropes soaked in holy water so he can be repeatedly raped by God knows how many men every day? Pouring holy water on him for fun? Forcing him to drink holy water so he can't talk and using it to blind him? For almost an entire year? Maybe you can understand it but I can't. We kill demons because we have to. If we torture them it's because we have no other choice. We don't do it for fun and we don't turn it into some kind of game! Damn it, Dean, we're better than demons!" He paused, breathing hard as he looked at Dean. "At least we're supposed to be." Taking a deep breath, he continued in a calmer voice. "I don't know how Crowley ended up on my doorstep but he's here and he's got nowhere else to go. He's adjusting to being blind pretty well. Better then I could, that's for certain."

Bobby turned, heading back toward the house. Dean walked next to him.

"So you're just letting him stay?"

Bobby snorted. "What do you recommend I do? He's blind and powerless. Easy prey for anyone out there." Bobby shook his head. "I couldn't just throw him out. He'd end up someone else's toy."

"Could just kill him. You got the Colt."

Bobby's lips thinned. "Thought about it, when he first appeared. Might have been more merciful. But I owed the bastard to at least try and help him." He looked toward the house, his expression softening. "It's worked out well."

Dean gave him a strange look. "Powers or no powers, he's still a demon, Bobby. Manipulative, self-centered."

"So are more than a few humans. I can handle it."

"Corruption is what he does, Bobby! How much of your life has he weaseled his way into? How long before he tries to seduce you in other ways? I mean ..."

Dean's voice trailed off and Bobby scowled, wondering what he'd done to give himself away.

"You're sleeping with him," Dean said, disgust in his voice.

Swallowing laughter at his wording, Bobby rolled his eyes. "That's our business," he said gruffly.

Dean looked like he was going to be sick and Bobby wondered if it was at the thought of him sleeping with a demon or him sleeping with a man.

"And he didn't trick me into it," he growled. "So get that thought out of your head."

"But you're not gay!" Dean burst out.

Bobby paused, not surprised that that was Dean's immediate concern. He tipped his head thoughtfully. "I wasn't, no. I still like women but, ever since Karen," he let that thought trailed off. "Guess I'm bi these days," he said finally. He sighed at the look Dean gave him. "Look, I ain't gonna try to explain it. Especially since I doubt you really care. I'm stuck with Crowley, not that he's bad company. We're making the best of the situation and if that means sharing a bed," he shrugged. "It has its perks."

He glanced toward the house and a smile tugged his lips at the sight of Crowley standing out on the porch, one hand gripping the rail as he enjoyed the sunlight on his face. He heard Dean hissed between his teeth.

"What is it with this family and demons?" he said in disgust. "Who fucks who, anyway? Crowley's such a ..."

The next thing Dean knew he was on the ground with an aching jaw and stars in his eyes. He could hear Crowley calling out anxiously.

"It's okay, Crowley! Dean's just being an ass again!" Bobby shouted over his shoulder then he looked down at Dean, anger clipping his words. "I can still beat the shit out of you, boy, and don't you forget it! What's between me and Crowley is our business and no one else's." He reached down to haul Dean to his feet. "If you can't handle it you know where the damn door is." He shoved the younger man away and stormed back to the house.

Dean didn't bother coming back into the house and they soon heard the Impala roaring away. Bobby drank too much whiskey that night and Crowley helped him upstairs and into bed. For a moment he debated sleeping in the guest room before finally crawling into bed next to his sleeping lover. This was his home now and he wasn't going to let some homophobic bastard ruin it.

ooOoo

Dean floored the Impala, ignoring the speed limit as he raced away from Bobby's place. He felt sick at the thought of Bobby with a man, not to mention with a demon. Especially that demon. He wondered what had really happened. He doubted Crowley was really blind. It was more likely just some trick to suborn Bobby, maybe get his soul for real this time and the demon was using Bobby's gratitude for the return of his legs to get the older hunter to let him stay. So what if the demon had given it back to set him the first time? A hunter's soul was worth a lot in Hell.

"You are going to kill yourself if you keep up this speed," Castiel said from the passenger seat and Dean jerked, almost sending the car into a spin. He regained control and pulled the car over, turned to glare at the angel.

"Only if I'm distracted at the wrong time," he growled, not feeling very friendly at the moment, despite the fact that he hadn't seen Castiel in some time. In fact the last time he's talked to Castiel ... he frowned. "You said Bobby was doing okay." he said accusingly.

Castiel frowned. "The last time I checked on him he was."

"Yeah well you neglected to mention that he's living with that damn Crowley! And fucking him as well!"

The angel's eyes narrowed. "I was not aware of this," he said slowly. "There was no sign of the demon there when last I checked."

"Okay so maybe he wasn't there then," Dean said, realizing he had no idea how long Crowley had been at Bobby's.

Castiel leaned back in the seat, frowning. "There are many looking for the demon Crowley," he said slowly. "Perhaps he is hiding out there?"

Dean snorted. "He's definitely up to something. Apparently he hit Bobby with some sob story and has totally sucked him in."

"Bobby is the one who struck you?"

Dean probed his jaw and winced. "Yeah. So you can see ..."

"What sob story?" Castiel interrupted.

"Ahhhh." Dean remembered the scars on the demon and those unnerving white eyes. "Says he was held prisoner by someone. He claims hunters. Tortured and ... stuff."

"How did he end up with Bobby?"

"Bobby opened his front door and there he was. This is something Crowley set up. I'm not sure why but there's got to be something Crowley's after."

The angel fell silent for a long moment. "And they are having a relationship?"

Dean winced, this time at Castiel's wording. "Hell, no! I mean, they're screwing. Well, I think they are but, look, if anything else that proves Crowley's messing with him! Bobby isn't gay."

Castiel tipped his head, studying him intently. "I will check into this as I can." He sighed at the look Dean gave him. "I am very busy in Heaven but I will do what I can as I can. Do not do anything ..." he wisely omitted the word foolish before continuing. "Until I get back to you." With that he vanished.

Dean scowled after him. "Yeah, sure," he muttered as he started the car.

ooOoo

Castiel was uncertain as to what he would find when he finally managed to pop into Bobby's the next morning. He moved cautiously, keeping himself unseen but he knew the demon would be able to detect him as soon as he entered the house.

Except he didn't.

He found Bobby and Crowley in the kitchen, Bobby drinking a hideous concoction that the angel recognized as the hunter's surefire hangover cure, Crowley taunting him about said hangover. Castiel expected no less from a demon yet Crowley's words had a tone to them he never would have associated with one of the hell-spawn.

Fondness.

He watched as the demon made his way around the kitchen, putting together breakfast despite the fact that he obviously couldn't see. It was equally obvious that Crowley couldn't sense him, not even when Castiel deliberately moved close to him, almost within touching distance. He took the opportunity to study the demon's injuries and he found himself wincing at the ugly scars and damaged eyes. These injuries, he realized, were very real.

He drifted back to observe and listen.

ooOoo

"I understand how you feel about Dean, Bobby." Crowley's voice was soothing then he paused. "Well, all right. Maybe I don't. Not exactly. But you know as well as I do that he's using the fact that I'm a demon to cover his homophobia."

Bobby grimaced. "You think he'd have less of a problem if you were female?"

"He put up with Ruby, didn't he? When she was with Sam."

"He still wanted to gank her."

Crowley shrugged. "But he didn't." He picked up the two plates and walked over to set one in front of Bobby and the other at his place. He returned over to get the milk, carefully pouring two glasses and carrying them over as well. "If I weren't Crowley the demon but just Jaime Yates, your distant cousin from England he'd be having just as big of of a fit. Only in that case it would have been about you having sex with a man."

Bobby grimaced at that then sighed. He started to speak then cut himself off, poking at the eggs with his fork and scowling.

"You're wondering if what we have is worth it," Crowley said bluntly. "If you should just kill me and be done with it."

Bobby rocked back, glaring at the demon.

"It would make life easier all around." Now there was bitterness in the demon's voice. "Free you from feeling you need to take care of me. Satisfy Dean that the evil demon controlling your life is gone. Hell, maybe it's even best for me." He reached up to touch an eye. "What good is a blind, powerless demon anyway? Sooner or later someone will figure out where I am and come for me. End it now and ..."

"Stop that!" Bobby slammed both hands on the table and shoved himself to his feet. He dragged Crowley from his chair and shook him. "That ain't happening."

"When you were in that wheelchair how many times did you think about killing yourself?"

Bobby took a deep breath. "Once a day. At least." His hands tightened on the other's shoulders. "Is that what you want?"

Crowley's breath caught and he turned his head away. "Sometimes. When the nightmares get bad. When I feel so damn helpless," he whispered. "But most times." He paused, tilting his head. When next he spoke his voice was stronger. "Most times I am content." He reached up to grip Bobby's wrists, a surprisingly soft smile on his face. "Can you live with the way Dean feels about you? About us?"

Bobby frowned thoughtfully before slowly nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, I can."

Crowley turned his head to kiss the hand on his shoulder. "Then I can live with this."

"Good. 'Cause no way in hell was I going to help you kill yourself."

Crowley burst out laughing.

"I'd haul you up to bed but with this hangover I wouldn't be able to do it justice." He leaned forward to catch the demon's laughter in a hard kiss. Crowley's breath caught and he returned the kiss almost desperately.

After a moment Bobby leaned back. "Crisis over?"

"Yes. Yes, crisis over."

ooOoo

Castiel popped in at random times, catching glimpses of Bobby and Crowley's life together. He'd started out trying to catch Crowley doing something, well, demonic. Instead he found himself witness to things he never thought he'd ever see.

Crowley, he determined, really was blind and powerless, not even able to detect an angel standing next to him. Castiel watched as Crowley did things around the house without complaint and with what looked like contentment. Doing the laundry, cooking meals, changing bedding; doing all the things Bobby so often neglected. Often he'd put on an audio book as he worked and Castiel would sometimes get so caught up in the book he'd forget what he was there for.

Bobby stomped around, grumpy as ever but Castiel found him more than once watching the demon with a soft look in his eyes. He smiled more often, usually at the demon or at something the demon said. They talked about their day, about the hunts, about things Castiel imagined many couples discussed; things that would be boring to anyone else. He saw Bobby bring home bottles of wine, much to the demon's obvious delight and watched as Crowley painstakingly made Bobby's favorite meals.

Castiel hadn't intended to spy on them at night but curiosity dragged him there one evening. Standing well back in the shadows, he watched as they undressed, Bobby grumbling as he pulled off his boots, Crowley fussily folding his clothes on to a chair. Dressed only in boxers, the demon slipped under the covers, adjusting the pillows with a sigh. Bobby watched him with a soft smile and Castiel wondered if he'd be smiling like that if the demon could see it. He decided probably not.

Bobby slipped under the covers as well, rolling over to face the demon. Crowley was smiling slightly, humming softly. Bobby sighed then growled. "Horny little bastard."

"And you're not?"

Bobby laughed and leaned in to kiss the demon.

Castiel knew he should leave but he didn't. It didn't take long for Bobby to peel the demon's boxers off and even less time for Crowley to return the favor. They pressed close, hands working as they sighed and kissed and cried out their pleasure. Afterwards they held each other for a long moment before Bobby rose and returned with a washcloth to clean up. Climbing back into bed he took the demon in his arms, kissed his forehead almost chastely, and slipped into sleep. Crowley followed soon after.

He popped in at the oddest moments, trying to catch Crowley out but there were no calls to mysterious people of dubious temperament nor any attempts to contact anyone. Crowley was staying very low key; playing the stocks was the most dangerous thing he did these days. Much to his surprise, the demon seemed content with his human lover, his audio books, his life. Bobby seemed equally content doing his research and fixing cars and sharing his life with a demon. Despite the fact that he'd spent his entire life loving women, he seemed surprisingly happy with Crowley.

During one of his explorations through Bobby's house, Castiel was surprised to find a dog-eared copy of 'The Joys of Gay Sex' tucked away in the nightstand on Bobby's side of the bed. A part of him wondered how and where Bobby had gotten the book, another part was amazed that the hunter would have gotten it in the first place. Then one night ...

Castiel popped in, hiding himself in the shadows.

"Bobby, I," Crowley's voice was strangled.

"If you want me to stop just say so."

In the heat they had thrown off the covers and Castiel could see them both clearly. The demon was on his back, legs spread, Bobby kneeling between them. It took a moment for him to realize that Bobby had a lube-slicked finger inside the demon, his free hand stroking Crowley's cock gently.

"I ... no, don't stop. Just ... just keep talking to me. I need to know that it's you and not ..."

Bobby obliged, murmuring soft words as he worked the finger deeper into the demon. He must have touched something because Crowley's back arched off the bed.

"There! There, Bobby. Yes!"

With a smile the hunter lowered his head, engulfing the demon's cock in his mouth, his finger stroking that spot until Crowley came, crying out his lover's name. Swallowing cum, Bobby stroked himself to completion as well, his own cries muffled by the demon's cock. Finished he made his way up Crowley's body to kiss him.

"I won't ever do anything you don't want." Bobby said softly.

"I know. I know." Crowley shivered. "I never thought," he paused, swallowing hard. "I never thought I'd ever enjoy this again. After what happened ... I'd been there before, you know. When I was first dragged into Hell. But that was in Hell, by demons. And so long ago."

Bobby tightened his arm around Crowley. "Don't think about it," he growled. "Ain't happening again."

Crowley made a sound deep in his throat. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I aim to keep this one." The determination in the hunter's voice seem to give the demon pause and Castiel slipped away, baffled by a demon's and a hunter's trust in each other.

Castiel found out that Bobby was keeping a secret, one he wasn't sure about. He stumbled on it one day when he popped in, finally finding the couple in the library. Bobby was looking over something he had hand-written, scowling and making changes. Castiel had read it over the hunter's shoulder, frowning at the implications of what he was writing and uncertain as to what to do about it, if anything. Bobby had finally sighed, folding it up and putting it away before looking over at a giggling Crowley.

"Damn it, Crowley! Lovecraft is not comedy!"

Crowley tilted his head in a manner that Castiel refused to find endearing and widened his eyes innocently. "Depends on your point of view," he said reasonably.

Bobby sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

Castiel reported back to Dean what he saw, though he omitted any mention of the document Bobby was working on, and what he thought but Dean only scowled darkly and muttered about Crowley being up to something. He sulked, ignoring the angel's suggestions that he talk with Bobby.

The next time he popped in he almost did something drastic before he realized that Crowley was trying to help Bobby, not hurt him. But hurt him he did because it was the only way to save his life.

"You could go to a doctor!" Crowley sounded desperate as he ran his hands lightly over the other's back, flinching every now and then. The hunter was shirtless, revealing a bloody hole in his shoulder. Castiel could feel the evil emanating from the wound and his stomach crawled.

"And tell them what? I got stabbed by some thing and by the way, whatever's in the wound is evil so be careful?" Bobby was sitting backwards on a kitchen chair, one hand gripping the back of the chair. "'Sides there ain't enough time."

"Better to have a blind demon dig it out?" Crowley took a deep breath. "Call Dean. Have him come out ..."

"Damn it, Crowley! Just wash off the holy water and use the gloves! It ain't in there too deep! I just can't reach it myself."

Crowley took another deep breath and moved to stand behind Bobby. He reached for a basin of water, scooping out a towel and using it to wash away blood and the holy water Bobby had poured over it in an attempt to negate the evil in the metal. He took the gloves Bobby offered him but hesitated before letting them drop. Castiel could understand why. Wearing the gloves would hinder his attempts to find the sliver but doing it bare-handed would expose the demon to what holy water remained behind despite his attempts to wipe it all away.

Crowley didn't seem to care.

Pausing only to pour antiseptic over his hands, Crowley felt for the wound. Castiel saw the demon's flesh begin to burn at the contact with holy water and Crowley gritted his teeth as he probed the wound. Breath hissed between his teeth and his face twisted with the pain but he didn't make a sound.

Despite being caught up in his own pain Bobby's nose twitched and he swore at the stench of burning skin. "Crowley!"

Crowley's free hand tightened on Bobby's uninjured shoulder. "Stay still! I almost have it!" His fingers probed then gripped the piece of metal. He yanked it out, letting it drop on the floor as he groped for the towel. Finding it, he pressed it to the wound. "Grab it! Hold it!" Once he was sure Bobby had the towel, the demon stumbled for the sink, flipping on the water and thrusting his hands under the flow. He hunched over, his face twisted with pain.

Castiel ghosted over, frowning at the burns. The ones on his right hand were deep and obviously painful. He looked toward Bobby, whose worried eyes were locked on Crowley. He hesitated, looking from one to the other. Bobby hadn't seen the wounds and Crowley couldn't, though he could feel the pain from them. So neither knew how bad the burns were.

And Crowley couldn't heal himself.

Reaching out to hold a hand over the demon's, Castiel extended his grace to heal the burns. Not completely but enough. He left only enough damage to show he had been burned by the holy water.

Crowley gasped as the pain eased. He groped for the soap, washing his hands repeatedly to remove any trace of holy water then shut the water off. For a moment he leaned there, panting.

"Well?" Bobby demanded. "Get over here, you damn idjit and let me take a look!"

Crowley started to giggle. "You get a fucking knife in your back and you want to check my hands? How incredibly fucked up is that?"

Bobby's scowl deepened. "Get over here!"

Crowley straightened, walking over to show him his hands. Bobby took the right hand, frowning. "Not too bad. Think you can finish up?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can." Crowley hesitated. "I still think ..."

"Just do it. It'll be fine. Now that that," he looked at the piece of metal on the floor. "Is out of me it'll be fine."

Crowley nodded and reached for the medical supplies Bobby offered him.

Once Bobby was patched up as best the demon could manage the hunter directed him to pick up the metal sliver and put it in a safe place until he could dispose of it. Crowley helped him upstairs and into bed, still fussing over the hunter, made even more grumpy by the pain in his back.

Castiel left soon after.

ooOoo

A few days later Crowley was in the kitchen, carefully straining the soup. Not an easy thing to do when one couldn't see but he managed remarkably well. He was reaching for a soup mug when the door crashed open. The demon let out an undignified squeak and jumped, just barely stopping himself from grabbing the hot stove.

"Who's there?" He turned toward the door, heart thumping. "Who's there?" His voice rose when there was no answer. He thought he heard the murmur of a woman's voice then Dean's voice cut harshly across hers.

"Where's Bobby?"

"Winchester." Crowley flatly refused to admit he sagged with relief. "Can't you ever come into this house without scaring the hell out of me?" he snarled, turning back to the soup. He was sure his hands were shaking as he reached for the mug. He was just thankful he hadn't been holding it when Dean came crashing through the door or he'd surely would have dropped it.

"You don't tell me where Bobby is and I'm going to do more than scare you!" Dean barked out and Crowley sighed.

"He's up in bed. He got injured during his last hunt and ..."

"You didn't think to call anyone?" Dean stomped over to tower over him.

Crowley's shoulders hunched at the man's closeness. "I couldn't! Bobby turned off and hid the damn phones! Did something to the CB and the computer as well. It's not like I could fix them!" He gripped the mug tightly, a part of him waiting for a blow.

"Why would he do that?" It was obvious Dean didn't believe him and Crowley's lips thinned.

"Ask him!"

For a moment Dean just stood there, breathing hard then he stomped from the room. Crowley waited until he heard heavy steps going up the stairs before relaxing. Reaching for a ladle he began to carefully fill the mug, pausing when he realized there was someone still in the kitchen. "Who's there?" he said sharply, half-turning to face the door.

A throat cleared. "Lisa. Dean's wife."

"Oh. Right." Bobby said Dean had married. He suppressed the urge to make a snide remark and moved to set the mug on the tray. Walking over to the refrigerator he pulled out a pitcher of orange juice and poured a glass, setting that on the tray as well. Making sure the napkin, crackers, and spoon was on the tray, he picked it up and turned.

"Uhm, need a hand?" The woman's voice was tentative and Crowley almost snapped at her but managed to swallow it down.

"No. I have it." He walked from the room, aware of Lisa following him. Shifting the tray so it was balanced on one arm, he reached for the railing. "Why are you here anyway?"

"Dean couldn't reach Bobby. He got worried."

"Why was he trying to get hold of Bobby?" Crowley's voice was dry. He wasn't surprised when she didn't answer.

Reaching the top of the stairs he shifted the tray so he was carrying it with two hands and started for the master bedroom. At the sound of raised voices he paused, lips thinning.

"If Crowley had called you, you'd have done something! Like force him to leave." Bobby growled. "That ain't happening! So yeah! I hid the phones!"

"Sure that was your idea?"

"Crowley's the one who wanted to call you. Not me."

Crowley tightened his jaw and walked into the room. "Lunch, luv," he said pleasantly. "Beef broth and orange juice." He started around the bed.

"Hold up, Crowley," Bobby growled and the demon stopped dead, surprised. "That's my lunch, Dean, and I don't want it all over the room so how about you get your ass out of the way! And don't try tripping him up."

Crowley frowned and waited for the sound of Dean moving before continuing to Bobby's side of the bed. Carefully, with Bobby's help, he sat the tray down across Bobby's lap.

"There you are." Crowley reached out to touch the man's neck. Bobby grumbled but didn't protest as the demon leaned in to press his lips to the man's forehead.

Dean gagged. "You mind?" He didn't bother to hide the disgust in his voice but before he could say more, Lisa cut him off sharply.

"Dean!"

"What?" He looked at her. "We don't need ..."

"Sorry to offend your homophobic sensibilities, Winchester." Crowley straightened, his voice acid. "But that's the only way I can judge whether or not Bobby has a fever. Can't exactly read a thermometer now, can I? Next time you're in town, luv, pick up one of those talking thermometers. If you don't then once I'm on the computer again I will order one and it won't be one that goes in your mouth."

"Shut up, Dean." Bobby growled just as the younger man opened his mouth. "That ain't much of an incentive to let you back on the computer."

"I'll pick one up and bring it over," Lisa said sharply, glaring at Dean, who gave her a 'what-the-fuck?' face.

Crowley looked startled at the offer then thoughtful. "That would be appreciated."

Bobby grunted as he cradled the soup mug in his hands. "We're really gonna have to work on gratitude and how to express it."

"I manage!" Crowley protested as he checked the water level in the pitcher next to the bed. "I mean, demon here. We don't exactly express it well. I'll bring up some fresh water."

"Do that," Dean snapped. "Take your time. We gotta talk."

Crowley's lips thinned and Bobby glared at Dean. "Go on," he said in a gentle voice. "You should get some rest. You look like I feel."

"Lovely. I'll be back up in a bit." Carrying the pitcher, he made his way around the bed and out the door, Lisa stepping out of his way.

"Demons don't need to sleep," Dean pointed out.

Lisa frowned at him. "He does look exhausted."

"Yeah well." Bobby took a sip of broth. "He's been up since I got home, running himself ragged."

Dean rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath but Bobby ignored him. He locked eyes on the young woman. "Dean's right about one thing. Normally a demon don't need to sleep. But Crowley's powerless. He can't use them to rejuvenate hisself or even heal hisself. In case you haven't noticed." He shot a look at Dean. "So he does need to sleep. And eat."

"What happened?" Lisa asked. "I mean?" She gestured at Bobby.

"Ah, hell. Didn't duck fast enough on a hunt. Got stabbed." He jerked his thumb at his right shoulder, wincing as the gesture pulled at his wound. "Not too deep but it left behind a piece of the blade. Cursed damn it! Crowley pulled it out. With his bare hand." He shot a glare at Dean. "Got burned from the holy water I poured on it. Anyway," he turned back to Lisa. "Guess it got infected. Was running a hell of a fever for a couple days. Just broke yesterday." He finished the soup and reached for the orange juice.

"Is that where that bruise came from?"

"Bruise? What bruise?" Dean, who'd been leaning against the dresser, straightened, looking at Bobby anxiously.

Both Bobby and Lise rolled their eyes.

"Crowley has a bruise on the side of his face," Lisa explained dryly. "I guess I'm not surprised you didn't notice it."

"Guess I was delirious," Bobby muttered, shame-faced. "That ain't the only one he got." He finished the orange juice and set the empty glass on the tray. Before he could move the tray to one side, Lisa was there.

"Here. I'll take that down. Want me to bring back some more both?"

Bobby shot her a startled look that quickly turned thoughtful. "Yeah sure. Thanks."