Crowley visited several hospital morgues to find a suitable fresh body for Dean. He wanted one that would not be missed and was in good shape with no wounds to contend with. He was in luck with the fourth one and found the body of a young man who died from an accidental drowning. His body was healthy and from the records, he had no next of kin. Crowley snagged the paperwork and whisked the body away to stash in a corner of Hell no demon ever visited. He made sure to use a temporary preserving spell on it to ensure it stayed as fresh as possible. It was close to the Cage, and everyone steered clear of the area for fear of Lucifer.
He headed toward his office to do some paperwork and to push forward with what else needed to be done before he could get Dean out of here. Crowley knew he needed to act normal and not draw any attention to himself that might delay his plan.
"Sir, sir," a minion called to him when he turned a corner near his office.
"Yes, Gerald," Crowley sighed. Gerald was one of the more whiny minions under his rule and he was barely able to tolerate him without snapping him from existence.
"It seems there's a problem with some of the deals that were made recently," Gerald offered shifting from foot to foot with uncertainty.
"So, are you going to tell me what the problem is?"
"The humans who made the deals are being killed like a week after they made them instead of their deal playing out like it should."
"Boggarts!" Crowley growled out. "Where is this happening at and who made the deals?"
"It's Harold's area and he's working around Des Moines, Iowa, right now, sir," Gerald babbled nervously, bowing has head and shrinking in on himself, expecting an angry outburst from his news.
"Alright Gerald, you've just been promoted. Go to Des Moines and find out what is going on and report back to me," Crowley ordered before strolling on past the demon. "Oh, take Gary with you for muscle."
"Ummm…Yes sir. But, sir," Gerald called with uncertainty.
"What do I do if I find the problem?"
"If I were you, I'd resolve it or don't bother coming back!" Crowley exploded, throwing his arms out and continuing toward his office. He mumbled under his breath about the hired help around here being incompetent fools. He opened the door to his office and stepped inside seeing a stack of papers in his in box waiting for his review and signatures. To be the King of the Crossroads did not alleviate all the paperwork that came with the title. He moved around the desk and dropped into his desk chair, frowning as he wiggled around and snapped his fingers to adjust the chair making it comfortable.
Crowley reached for some of the papers and tried to concentrate on each one as he scanned it before signing the pages at the bottom. He worked his way through half of the paperwork before pushing back from the chair and leaning back. He snapped his fingers and a glass of amber liquid appeared on his desk. Crowley reached for it and swirled it around for a moment before sipping on it. He was checking off things in his head and thought he would be ready to get Dean out of here in a couple of days.
Demons loved to gossip, and he heard some talking about Alastair was going to be away for a few days and they were going to make the most of it. As they say, when the cat's away the mice will play. He knew with Alastair gone, it would be the perfect time to get Dean out of here. He was not letting any of the other demon torture him now that he thought Dean was close to breaking. No one would be checking on him or missing him until Alastair returned.
One thing he needed to acquire were clothes for the dead body Dean would be possessing since it was naked, and he would stand out walking around in Hell unclothed. He would also need clothes for his true body because they were shredded by the hellhounds. He paused a moment, smirking as he thought of his lovely pups. They do love to play fetch. Crowley got up and headed to the supply rooms to see what he could find and stash the items in his office to have them ready.
He so liked it when a plan came together.
The halls were somewhat quieter with Alastair away. Crowley strolled down the hallway being invisible as he pretended to read the papers he had in his hand. None of the lesser demons challenged him or thought it strange for him to be there and paid him no mind. He walked by the room the older Winchester was in and let a couple of pages fall to the floor. As he bent to pick them up, Crowley glanced inside to be sure he was alone. As he stood, he slipped into the room and over to the rack.
"You ready to ditch this place Winchester?" Crowley asked when he saw Dean look his way.
"You're sure this is going to work?" Dean asked as he watched Crowley unfasten the straps and tried to stand. He slumped against the rack as he worked on making his body work again.
"What have you got to lose?"
"Won't they think it strange if my body's not here?"
"Got that covered," Crowley smirked snapping his fingers and making a dead body similar to Dean's with serious injuries and most of his face destroyed appear on the rack. He quickly put the straps on his arms and ankles before turning to the older Winchester. "Shall we?"
Without warning, Dean's upper arm was gripped tightly, and a sudden sensation of dropping disoriented him, and he would have fallen if Crowley had not had a firm grip still. They were in a dimly lit room very different to the torture rooms where Dean had been kept.
"First things first, we need to get you in this body," Crowley started as he let Dean go and pulled a sheet down from the body he had taken from the morgue.
Dean blinked a few times and tried to get a good look at the body before stiffening and glaring at Crowley.
"Is this some kind of joke?" he demanded. "That's a kid and a wimpy one at that."
"Beggars can't be choosy; I didn't have that good of a selection to pick from. You have to remember you're not a full demon so you can't keep a mutilated body going like a regular demon."
"You didn't gank this kid, did you?" Dean asked suspiciously.
"No, he was a drowning victim. I did have another choice, but I didn't think you wanted to go around wearing high heels and a mini skirt."
Dean glared at the demon as he looked at the body again before speaking.
"So, what do I have to do?"
"For this nothing. I need to separate your soul from this body that Hell created and to do that I need to kill you."
"Wait? What! I don't…" Dean started but was cut off as Crowley plunged a knife into Dean's chest, destroying his heart.
Crowley did not give Dean time to protest as he pulled the knife and stabbed him. When he saw his face slacken and his eyes glaze over, he began to chant an ancient, forgotten ritual and watched as smoke began to pour from Dean's mouth. He gazed with interest when he saw it was not black like most demons but an array of colors ranging from a dark gray to grayish white to whitish silver. It swirled in on itself as the colors mixed, reformed, and joined again. Crowley finished the ritual and the gray smoke moved to the dead body and entered it by the open mouth.
After a few moments, the eyes flew open and Dean sat up and looked around. The first thing Dean became aware of was the horrible smells and tastes, all that had been part of the body's death, nearly overwhelming his senses. His eyes felt dry and scratchy, almost to the point of pain, blood burned through his veins and every joint of his body ached fiercely. He immediately leaned over the table he was sitting on and dry heaved for a couple of minutes. Finally, he drew in some long breaths as his soul was forced to adjusted to this new body by the spell Crowley used. He looked down the skinny frame and huffed his disgust.
"You couldn't have gotten one a little taller? What, this body is five, five; five, six at the most?" he asked in disgust.
"Here, put these on," Crowley told him as he shoved some clothes into his arms and ignoring the comment. "You won't be going anywhere with your dick hanging out."
Dean could not help his face reddening as he quickly slipped on the black pants, white shirt, and black jacket. He stopped for a moment as he eyed the shoes.
"What the hell is this?" he asked holding up a pair of sandals.
"The kid had big feet, nothing in storage would fit, so just put on the black socks and no one will ever notice. It's not like we have a fashion runway down here."
Dean swore under his breath as he slipped on the socks and grudgingly put on the sandals wondering if the demon was messing with him.
"Here are the coordinates where your body is buried and a cell phone. I know you'll want to find your brother. This is the spell to get into your own body and the pack has clothes and items for the spell. And I tossed in a little special treat I think will come in handy," Crowley explained handing Dean papers and a cell. "This credit card will work anywhere and will be active for the next month. Don't need you getting yourself killed over a pool or card game before you serve your purpose. Keep this with you at all times," Crowley told him, holding out a hex bag. "It will keep demons from tracking you when you get out."
"How am I supposed to find my way out of here?" Dean asked taking the things from Crowley and putting them in the pack.
"I have that covered." He grabbed Dean's arm again and snapped his fingers taking them to a different part of Hell. Crowley whistled once and waited.
Dean looked around once he got over the zapping thing and froze when he heard the snuffing and chuffing of a hell hound bounding toward them. The memories flooded back into his mind of what had happened to him and he thought he was going to pass out.
"There's my baby girl," Crowley cooed to the hellhound as he scratched and rubbed her head. He turned to Dean and saw the frightened, wide-eyed stare as he took a step back, his breaths quickening. "Don't worry, Juliet won't harm a fly unless I tell her. She doesn't retrieve souls for me. She will lead you to a hell gate where you can return to the upper world."
A guttural sound came from Dean as he gulped air spastically before finally getting out a sentence.
"You can't take me there?"
"No darling; no time for hand holding I'm afraid. I can't afford to be seen with you. If anyone should stop you, tell them you are one of my new recruits and I have you running errands."
"I don't even know who you are," Dean reminded him as he fought to calm himself while still keeping a cautious eye on the hound.
"Of course, I'm bad, name's Crowley, King of the Crossroads demons. And Dean, be wary of a demon named Ruby, she's a lying, conniving bitch and not a friend." Crowley bend down and whispered into the hellhound's ear before giving her a final pat. "You should leave now. You need to stop your brother from continuing down a dangerous path; whatever it takes. If he is not stopped…He could be the downfall for humanity."
Dean darted his dark eyes up at Crowley for a moment before moving to the hellhound's side and holding out his hand for a moment so she could get his smell. He stepped to her side, close enough that their bodies nearly brushed and stayed there. His new body felt awkward and too small, but if this was what it took to get back to his brother, he would suffer through it.
Juliet moved quietly through the hallways, stopping once and awhile to sniff the air before continuing. Dean did not know how long they had been walking and was relieved that they had only met a couple of other demons who paid him no mind. The unlikely pair rounded a corner and Dean pulled to a stop when he saw a dead end.
"What's this?" he asked the hellhound. "Did you get lost?" Dean stepped slightly in front of the hellhound to look at the rock walls when suddenly Juliet headbutted him hard in the back. Dean did not have a change to protect himself as he slammed face first into the rocks of the wall.
A/N: Dean is out of Hell now and going in search of his brother. What will he think when he finds Sam? Can Dean stop him? What is Crowley going to want in return for freeing Dean? Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. I do like reviews. NC