You Found Me |Sam Winchester| [2015 Wattys Winner]

42. "The World's Gone Crazy."

42. "The World's Gone Crazy."

"Here we are," Crowley sighed. "My life on the lam. How the mighty have fallen. Single-pane glass, used contraception in the fireplace. The water damage alone—"

"My heart's bleeding for you," Dean deadpanned. "Now, how do you know about the rings?"

We were in the worst dump possible. But hey, if every demon on every level was looking for you, you'd want to hide in a dump too, someplace they wouldn't dare touch. Some place they wouldn't want to banish their worst enemies to. This place fit the bill.

It looked like the perfect setting to the opening of a horror movie. It just gave me an overall creepy vibe, and that was just from the exterior alone when we pulled up to the house.

"Well, now...I've been keeping a close eye on you lot."

"We got hex bags. We're hidden from demons," Sam insisted. I wasn't familiar with hex bags. My guess was witchcraft since it sounded like it.

"All but one. That night you broke into my house, our first date, my valet hid a tracking device in your car—a magical coin that easily tramps your bags o' bones. It allows me to hear things, too—and, my, the things I've heard." Crowley chuckled. "So you want to cram the Devil back in the box? Cunning scheme. I want in."

"You said you could get us Pestilence," I reminded him.

"Well, now...I don't know where Pestilence is, per se. But I do know the demon who does. He's what you might call the horsemen's stable boy. He handles their itineraries, their personal needs. He's who you want—believe me. He'll tell us where Sneezy's at."

"Well, how do we get him to spill?" Dean butted in. "Rip out his toenails?"

"No. Nuts at his pay grade don't crack. We bring him here, then I sell him."

"Sell him?" I asked slowly.

"Please. I've sold sin to saints for centuries. Think I can't close one little demon?"

"All right," said Dean, "so where's this demon of yours?"

"A place called Niveus Pharmaceutical."

"Sounds fancy and powerful," I noted. "Sounds about right. Aren't demons all about being power hungry?"

"Watch your tone, dearie. That tongue of yours might just get you killed one day."

"Don't think so. I can handle myself. If I can't, I know I've got protection."

Crowley scoffed. "Oh, and what happens when that protection can't reach you?"

I rolled my eyes.

So, in a silence consensus, we were prepping to head out to Niveus Pharmaceutical. Not that any of us were happy about it. I believed out of the three of us, Sam and I were tied for first when it came to hating to be near Crowley the most. The weapons we were taking were stuck in bags and plopped onto the unstable wooden table we found. Crowley had, fortunately (for him), let us be as we prepped.

"Why are we even listening to him, Dean?" Sam complained. "This is totally insane."

"I don't disagree." Dean loaded a handgun.

"One big happy family, are we, then?" Crowley sauntered back into our space. I frowned, keeping the freshly loaded gun in my hand. "Fantastic."