Chill

No Angel of Mercy

Hard times. Troubling times to say the least. Bobby had stormed back into his house, slamming and almost breaking the front door off of its hinges, a tired look adorning his face. The bags beneath his eyes were bigger, more wrinkled than usual, even for a hunter of his age this wasn't normal. This 5'11" drunk was quick to resume his daily passtime, slumping down in his office chair to crack open this one bottle of whiskey. It was the oldest he owned, and it was a gift from an old friend of his, Rufus. How Bobby loved to reminisce in the hunters' prime days, running around the country with Rufus by his side, ganking everything in sight. Spinning the lid then flicking it off, he was very fast to bring the bottle to his lips, taking a swig before slamming it back down onto the desk in front of him.

He couldn't believe it. It felt like only yesterday he had met her, and yet she was being ripped from him like every other great friend he has made in his lifetime. Jody was slowly dying, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing rational anywho. He would do anything to give one of his friends a long life, full of adventure, happiness and maybe the 'Apple-Pie life' as Dean would always call it. Just as luck would have it, the last being he wanted to see in that moment, poofed into his room.

A man in a black suit and tie with a matching black trenchcoat stepped forward out of the shadows. Clean-shaven, black hair, hazel brown eyes. It was Bobby's demon alright. "Shove off!" Bobby was quick to growl and try to scare him off, practically foaming at the mouth already, in both disappointment and frustration at the predicament he had himself in currently. Launching himself to his feet, he stomped around the ex-King-of-the-Crossroads down the corridor to the kitchen, opening the fridge forcefully and taking out a bottle of beer he cracked the lid off on the counter. Now he had two poisons to help him drown out whatever speech he was about to get. Except he didn't get one. The demon he had grown to aggressively love didn't say a word with that thick British accent of his, but instead followed Bobby around like a guard dog, making sure the old sod didn't do anything stupid. Beginning to tune his footsteps out, Bobby got back to work, drinking on the job and answering FBI phone calls, or helping the Winchester's find/solve a new case.

Crowley's behaviour lasted all of three days, thinking that would be how long it would take for the grieving process to be done. The last three days he was at Bobby's, Crowley just repeated the process of following, watching and staying quiet. So being a demon and all, he still hadn't quite grasped human emotions, nor the concept that everyone handles each differently, especially when it came to his 'lover'. He would often tease Bobby when summoned to a hunt with that, to try and push his buttons/provoke him, to no avail every time. For an interspecies couple, they were rather consistent, even for a love-hate relationship; anyone else would think they were to break up then get back together, cheat on each other or maybe even go on an extended break- nope. Not them. Somehow they put up with each other no matter how much the other would anger them. Now it was different. Bobby wouldn't speak a word to Crowley, unless it was telling him to leave. So finally he did. The demon poofed out of the Singer household and back into hiding. Big mistake to say the least.

Moments after the man in the black trenchcoat left, Bobby was no longer 'drunk and disorderly' like he was pretending to be, he was up on his feet and in his car, driving to the nearest crossroads. Robert Singer was a smart man, full of knowledge on just about everything, including things about where he was, and what happened to those who abused the power of the Crossroads. Everyone who made a deal got ten years. Their wish and ten years to live it out. Night was falling on the Crossroads, and fast, Bobby rattled his offering tin as a way to taunt and tempt whichever demon was to plant a kiss on his lips and seal his deal.

Soon enough he was indeed joined by a demon, one similar to his ex-wife in looks, with long blonde hair which was curled to her shoulders. Bobby stated what he wanted, and as per standard he was promised the usual ten years to live this out, except when their lips were locked with one another, a new deal was made. Come the sixth month of this deal, the hellhounds that aren't under Crowley's watch would come for him. The sad man wasn't aware of this, or he chose to ignore this new fact, too focused on helping his companion out. Selfless as per usual. Or was he being selfish this time round?