Our Monsters at the End of the Line

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A/N: Quick warning, suicide is depicted in this chapter. I am trying to handle it with grace, but I cannot guarantee that my writing does it a lot of justice, so read with discretion.

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"It's been a pleasure," Crowley grinned, his voice horse as smoke exited his mouth. It sounded like three people were talking instead of one, and, unlike the Archangels' true voices, it made your ears bleed. "But I have some business to attend to."

You ground your teeth at Crowley's grin. He turned his back to you and Meg as Meg was throwing a sling of ancient curses at him. Meg looked around for any sign of a weakness in the barrier Crowley created, but found nothing.

"Former Prince Asmodeus," Crowley started, his voice echoing off walls.

"Hell of a way to address him, huh?" You muttered.

"Wants to make sure Asmodeus stays in his place," Meg commented with a grunt.

"Figures," you sighed, staring at the barrier. Your eyes flicked to the brimstone and obsidian wall.

"Meg," you whispered, an idea formulating. "How hard is it for you to dig through brimstone?"

"Not hard..." Meg felt a grin crawl up her cheeks as she followed your gaze. "Give me ten minutes."

"I can only give you five," you said, barely catching Crowley say your name.

"What is she to those overgrown piles of feathers?"

"Is that really what you want came all this way to do?" You snorted. "That bloody pulp doesn't know the half of what I am."

"Maybe so," Crowley didn't look back. "But your dear friend Ishim might."

"And what makes you think I would tell a filthy demon, such as yourself?" Ishim shouted from below.

Crowley grinned as he peered over the edge. You felt some dirt kick at the back of your leg from Meg's digging. Crowley had his arms crossed as he looked down at Ishim.

"Because I can offer you something in return," Crowley said, he had that coercive slur to his tone that every snake-oil salesman had in a pinch. "You're freedom."

Ishim paused, contemplating the offer. Not even the annoying drips of blood coming from Asmodeus pulled him from his thoughts.

From the conversations he overheard between you and Lucifer, Ishim knew that Crowley would want Lucifer and any of his allies dead. That would include you. Crowley could use you as leverage over the Archangels, that he was sure of. He could then kill you while Ishim was making his escape. That could have worked, however.

"Do you really want four Archangels on your ass, Ishim?" You shouted as loud as you could.

Ishim froze. Four?

"Oh, that's right," you mocked a pout, "you were stuck down here when we found out. Gabriel's still alive."

"But the Archangels can be subdued," Crowley argued.

"Not all at once," you snorted, leaning an arm against the wall. "Especially since the clock is ticking, Crowley."

"Lucifer isn't coming," Crowley growled, spinning around to face you. "You can't threaten me, girl."

"Crowley, sweetie," you chuckled, overly cheery, "he is. I never lied about that, you just had to make this complicated."

"I'm quite good at that," Crowley said, his eyes flicking behind you.

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