Comfort Crowd Δ SPN [ 1 ]

096. SKINWALKERS

The four Winchesters are at a BBQ place and Sam and the girls are sitting the table, Dean standing a few feet away and on the phone with Bobby.

"I know, Bobby, but there's got to be another way. I don't know. Keep digging. I mean, if Crowley thinks we're just gonna--"

"Crowley thinks you're just gonna what, Dean?" They turn to see Crowley by Dean. Libby immediately goes to the side of the table Ophelia is on, knowing Sam won't do anything to protect her.

"Is that Bobby Singer? Give him a kiss for me." Crowley says, walking to the table. Dean hangs up, going to the table, sitting in his chair. Libby sits in his lap, leaning back into his chest and making him wrap an arm around her so there's something blocking Crowley from her.

Crowley grabs Libby's discarded chair and sits in it.

"I'm gonna say this once. You can take your job and shove it up your ass." Dean states.

"Is that any way to talk to your boss?" Crowley asks.

"You're not my boss, dickbag." Dean retorts.

"Dean, Dean. Been through this. Quit clutching your pearls. You've been working for me for some time now. Sam here, longer." Crowley says.

"We didn't know." Sam says.

"Like that makes a difference to you. You'd sell your family for three dollars right now if you really needed a soda." Crowley states. "Look, I'm sending you--"

"No." Dean interrupts.

"Beg pardon?" Crowley questions.

"I've done some shady stuff in my time, but I am not doing this. No." Dean objects.

"Ten quid says you will." Crowley says. He touches the back of Sam's hand, the Winchester yelling out in pain and clutching his hand that begins to burn.

"You like pain, Sam? You like Hell?" Crowley asks before turning to Dean. "You need to stop thinking of this as some kind of deal. This is a hostage situation, you arrogant little thug. I own your brother! And don't think I won't go after the midgets next." He threatens, Dean's grip subconsciously tightening around Libby. "Do you understand me?"

Crowley snaps his fingers and Sam's hand is back normal.

"Come on, Dean, smile. It's not that bad. Here's incentive -- you bag me a live alpha, and I'll give you little Sammy's soul back, with a cherry on top."

"What, alpha vamp not good enough for you?" Sam asks.

"Best mind where you poke your nose, if you want to keep it. Your merry little hike up the food chain starts here." Crowley puts a newspaper down. "Businessman found dead in his car, chest ripped open, heart missing. Sounds like?"

"Werewolf." Sam says.

"No, it's not a full moon." Dean rejects the idea.

"Werewolves turning on the full moon. So '09." Crowley rolls his eyes.

"He's right. Samuel and I ganked one about six months back on the half moon. Things have been out of whack for a while now, I guess." Sam says.

"You being one of those things." Ophelia mutters.

"Yeah, I guess." Dean mumbles.

"So, it's settled then. You bag the howler, bring it home to papa. See you soon, boys." Crowley disappears.

"You know... I really hate that dude." Libby states.

"You and me both." Dean grumbles.

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