Fixing Evil

Prologue

I was tired; I was broken. Life had lost its flavour and most of all, pain filled my heart and darkened my emotions. I need the pain to go away and that is why I did it. Knowing it would be a long shot, I summoned Crowley, the King of Hell. He is a fictional character, so there is a good chance that it wouldn't work, but I was desperate and he was my last hope.

Everything was in place. The symbols of the devil's trap were painted into carved grooves on the hardwood floor and the candles were placed and lit. I spoke, my voice a whisper as the Latin incantation rolling smoothly from my lips. As the last syllable left my mouth, the candles blew out, throwing the room into pitch black darkness because the windows were covered by heavy, dark curtains. Then, a soft, red glow began to spread from the center of the trap.

The black silhouette of a man appeared within the gentle, scarlet glow.

"Hello, Love," a familiar British accent spoke, "What can I do for you?" 

Words failed me. It had worked and I doubted that it would. I knew what I wanted, but the words caught in my throat.

"Well come on, then," Crowley had completely appeared now, "I've got other business to attend to. He took a step forward and looked at the scarlet symbols upon which he stood, "I can't grant you anything if I'm trapped, now can I?"

"Sorry," I used the knife to carve an opening in the outer circle.

"Now," the demon stepped over the devil's trap, "What is it that you need, Love?"

"I-"tears began to blur my vision, "I want the pain to go away."

"Oh, Love," he placed his palm on my right cheek, "You're going to need a bit more than just a pain reliever."

"What?" I questioned dumbly.

"Anyone can see that you're hurting," his voice was soft, sympathetic even, which is odd for a demon, "and it's going to take more than a simple 'pain killer' to relieve it."

"What are you suggesting?" my voice shook and a tear escaped down my cheek, leaving behind a slick, glistening trail.

He took a small step backward and scrutinized me.

"Tell you what, Love," he answered after a while, "What you really need is an escape and that is what I'm going to give you. Pick any world – real or fictional- and you'll become a main character."

"What are you asking in return?" I had expected him to say something like, "Your soul" or "What do you mean? You summoned me; you should know."

Instead, he replied, "Nothing."

My eyes widened in surprise, "Why?" I could not believe that a demon, especially the King of Hell, would make a deal in which they would receive nothing.

"Because, Love," he placed a hand on my small, bony shoulder, "I may be the King of Hell, but I do have a heart; I care, and, as much as I love seeing tortured souls, you don't deserve to hurt. You need a break, and that is what I'm giving you, only this is permanent."

Tears streamed down my cheeks, making them and my eyes puffy as I choked out a thank you.

"Don't thank me, yet, Love," he replied softly, "You still have to pick the world."

"Right," nodding, I sniffled, "I choose Supernatural."

His face was full of doubt, "Are you sure you want that, Love?"

"Yes," the room was feeling a little cold, "and I know what this means; I know that we will meet again."

"Very well," he replied as he moved closer, "Let's seal the deal, then, shall we?"

Knowing what he meant, I nodded as our faces moved closer. A kiss would make the deal official. It wasn't meant to be romantic and this one certainly wasn't. I used my emotions to convey a thank you message.

When he stepped back, my vision began to fade. It was like I was blacking out slowly. The last thing I remember were memories flashing through my mind, but they were of a life with me as a Winchester.

"Thank you, Crowley," my voice was a whisper.