Dead or Alive [Supernatural]

The other side of Crowley

~Sorcha was already asleep~

Crowley, who didn't slept since weeks. Watched Sorchas sleep like a Sheepdog his sheep. Her sleep is more than just restless. She winds and the ropes around her wrists began to rub her skin bloody. She tries to kick but she couldn't because of the vessels. Crowley tried to look away but it won't work. He's thinking about her words, what she said about his voice. He wasn't sure if it was a compliment but this girl doesn't looks as if she would lie to him. The compliment or whatever, it meant a lot to him. He would just never admit it! He tried to calm her, but it didn't work. He is afraid that she would even wear out her veins, if she doesn't stops winding. Crowley can't let that pressure medium to be bled to death before his eyes. Yes thats how Crowley thinks, but he doesn't know what he thought as he; opened Sorchas shackles, and brought her into his own room and gently laid her on his bed. Crowley kneels down next to her, hoping fervently that she stops twitching. As a cliche, the moon shines on her face and Crowley sees tears running down her cheeks. However, when she began to whimper, he could not longer stop it. He puts, "to calm her" his hand on her hip. And it really works. Although she was still shaking, but calmed her condition. Because the king of hell wasn't sure, if she really stopped, he laid his hand beside her on the pillow. What he only thought with the impersonal relationship, after that night? Well her name he still doesn't know. Sorcha had a faint moan, and puts her hand on his. Then she lays her head on the fingertips of the two. Crowley ran his free hand through her hair, it's knotted and the beautiful, light-brown waves determined only you could think up. After both so stayed half an hour, Sorcha pulled her hand away, turned her head to the ceiling and fell into a quiet sleep. He misses the feeling of her hand on his. He always wanted to be loved. That's all. He has callous relationships every week anew. And he's fine with it. But baking pancakes Sunday mornings with a woman who really loves him, would be perfect. Sounds stupid especially from the mouth of the king of hell, but so it is.

Crowley watched her sleep the whole night. Until the morning when the sun rises, then he made preparations for the day. He showered, took on new clothes and prepared the place, for the girl whose name he doesn't know. Jesus. The pretty girl would probably have to suffer, even if he secretly wished that it were not so. It'll be hard to get the informations out of her. He was looking forward, to Sorcha begging for mercy, to her crying, and when she finally gives in. Now the sadist out of him is speaking out, looking forward to torment the weak and defenseless girl. But first he'll bring her breakfast, not that she suffers a breakdown. He grabbed his coat and went to a coffee shop to get some small breakfast for her.