Assassin (A Crobby Fanfic)

Chapter 7

"Let me get this straight. You SLEPT WITH THE KING OF HELL?!" Dean shouted.

"Don't shout at me, boy!" Bobby growled, seated behind his desk at home.

"This is ridiculous!" Dean threw his hands up, turning away in disbelief. "How did that even happen?"

"Right. Explain to me why we were all called back from the mission again," Ellen deadpanned.

"It was all a trap," Bobby said. "Crowley leaked information to you to lure you into his territories. He knew you would go after his sub-leaders."

"I'll bet he just told you this, free of charge," Dean said sarcastically. "Why should we believe anything he says?"

"I'm not risking my family's lives on distrust," Ellen stated firmly. "If he's telling the truth, then I'm happy you're all alive."

Bobby stood, walking off while massaging his temple.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked a bit too strongly.

"Bed," he answered, going up the flight of stairs.

He didn't sleep. He couldn't sleep. Bobby stooped over an opened file with a single sheet of paper clipped to a small picture on his bed. The picture was Crowley walking somewhere. The paper, short that it was, had all the information about him. All the information Heaven's Army had on him, anyway.

Bobby scoffed. "Who was the idjit that thought up that name?" he wondered privately.

A buzzing caught his attention. The sniper looked to his phone with an unknown number plastered across its screen. He picked it up.

"Robert." It was breathy but clear.

Bobby's expression turned into a scowl. "What do you want, you son of a bitch?"

"Robert, I'm sorry I held a gun to your head this morning, but please. This time, I really do need help."

"Uh-huh. Of course. You only come scampering back to me when I'm of value to you, and the moment it all goes to hell, you run off like a damn coward."

"Lilith betrayed me," Crowley pushed on, swallowing audibly. "I'm on the run. Please, Bobby, if you don't help me, I'll die!"

"Should've thought of that before you became a mafia leader," Bobby replied coldly.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, voice cracking.

Bobby was about to say something when a gunshot rang through the line. "Crowley?"

No answer.

"Crowley!"

Silence. A beep suddenly sounded on the phone before the call disconnected. Bobby ran downstairs, calling for Dean, Sam, and Ellen.

After half an hour later, Sam managed to track down Crowley's phone with some help from Charlie over webcam. Bobby made sure his pistol was in place before leaving. Sam went with the old sniper, leaving Ellen and Dean at home. They rode down in Bobby's old pick-up until they reached where the GPS led them to.

"A hiking trail," Sam stated, leaves and twigs crunching under his feet. "Why would he be on a hiking trail?"

"Who knew what the bastard was doing?" Bobby said distractedly.

The two walked in silence after that, looking around for anything out of place. It didn't take them long to notice a speck of black in the distance. When they walked toward it, they realized it was the color of Crowley's suit, which became said man on an even closer approach. Bobby leaned to check his pulse in the neck. Nothing.

"He'd been shot," Sam noted, pointing to the bullet wound in his shoulder. "Wouldn't have killed him immediately, but he lost a lot of blood."

Bobby hadn't noticed until Sam pointed out that the area around and under Crowley's body was stained in dried blood. He'd been dead for a while. Bobby thought it strange that he didn't feel satisfied by this. Questions began racing in his mind, some he probably will never find an answer to. Then it was all gone. His mind just clicked back to normal. He couldn't help it. Bobby had lost so many comrades, people he considered family, that he couldn't feel the numbness of grief. He merely stood up and started back for his truck.

"Dead?" Dean questioned. "Are you sure?"

"We tested his pulse," Sam reassured. "Nothing."

"We may lay siege to his territories then," Castiel said. "He can't interfere now."

Bobby took out a case of beer from his fridge and dropped onto his couch. "Right. How about you leave me alone and go scheme about world domination without me?"

"You... you sure you don't want in again?" Sam asked. "The gang could always use another sharpshooter like you."

The sniper shook his head. "Didn't I tell you that, after Crowley was dead, you'd never call me for another godforsaken job for the rest of my life?"

The Winchesters glanced at each other before leaving with Cas, Ellen, and Gabe, talking casually among themselves about mundane things. It was funny, seeing a group of mafia members acting so normal. Terrifying, actually, because they blended right in.

Engines roared and they took off. Bobby downed a bottle, wiping his lips with the back of his hands.

"You really ought to find another drink."

Bobby jumped, whipping out his gun and taking aim. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw his target. "Crowley?!"

He grinned, taking a casual seat as if no one ever witnessed his dead body on a hiking trail. The King of Hell put down a bottle of scotch, an offering. "Sit back and relax, Robert. I'd like to tell you a little story that I'm sure you'd want to hear."