it's the last fair deal goin' down Who: Dean Winchester & Crossroads Demon (Lilith McAvoy) What: Dean wants to make a deal. Where: Greenwood, Mississippi When: August 26, 2007.
The previous three months had been little more than a slippery slope for Dean, different motels in different cities blurring together as the days passed. He'd effectively cut himself off from everyone -- from Ellen and Jo and Bobby, and he knew he probably should have felt some guilt over letting them believe he was dead, but he didn't. The guilt from other things was already too much to bear.
He still hunted, of course, taking the biggest and baddest things he could find, and going about the job half-assed. He might have been too cowardly to put a pistol in his mouth, but that didn't mean he didn't hope and pray that something would come along and take care of it for him.
Three months, moving from town to town, job to job, and it wasn't until late August that the answer hit him, so simple that he could have kicked himself. Once the idea latched on, it refused to let him go, and that was how he found himself at the crossroads, kneeling in the dirt with a box in his hand, as so many other lost souls had done before. He buried it, then dusted his hands off and got to his feet, but patience had never been one of Dean's strong suits, and only moments had passed before he was shouting. "Come on, you bitch. Show yourself!"
"Didn't your Mommy ever tell you it's not polite to call someone a bitch?" a feminine voice behind Dean chided him.
Dean spun, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to put a bullet in her right then and there. "I think she might've made an exception for you," he found himself saying, before he could bite back the words.
When he spun around, he came face to face with the Crossroads demon. Her appearance had changed, of course, since she'd had to give up the host she'd been using after their last meeting--when Dean had nearly exorcised her and sent her back to Hell--and that was a bit of a shame. She'd liked the look of that girl. Her new host had taken some work, but she'd managed to reinvent her enough that she could maybe see it being long-term. And, in addition to being the right age and a brunette, this new girl had a name she'd always liked: Lilith. It was deliciously ironic, and she'd enjoy adopting it.
"You really think Mommy'd make an exception for me?" she asked, then snickered. "I'm honored."
Her eyes glowed red for a moment before returning to normal.
"I should send you back to hell," he snarled, and the temptation was there -- he knew the Latin by heart, and he could do it, make no mistake about that. He even wanted to, just a little, but she had something he wanted, whether he wanted to admit that or not.
"You really should," the demon agreed, her voice almost a purr as she came close enough to him to be invading his personal space. She enjoyed taunting him with her proximity. "But you won't. You didn't summon me here to play good Samaritan, did you, Dean? This one's personal."
It was an effort not to take that instinctive step back, but he managed it, however barely. "Yeah, it's personal. I want to make a deal." No one could ever say Dean wasn't direct and to the point about a lot of things, and about this, he definitely was.
"Of course you do," Lilith smiled wide, revealing perfect teeth. It was an undeniably predatory smile, and only enhanced by the way she walked around him, brushing his arm as she passed. "Took you long enough, too."
"Yeah, well, making deals with your kind isn't usually my first thought," he replied, more than a bit defensively.
"No, your first thought is usually about how much you miss Sammy and how lost you feel without him around to protect, how you failed him," the demon's words were full of cruel sympathy and she sighed, like she was disappointed in him. "You know, I hate to point this out but.... if you'd taken the deal I offered you the first time we met, instead of helping Evan Hudson, your baby brother would still be alive, because you'd have your Dad and he never would have let anyone get close to killing Sammy."
Dean couldn't help but flinch in the darkness, and he knew she saw it. Demons didn't miss much, usually, and she was saying only what he'd thought at least a hundred times since May. "Can you bring him back?" He didn't doubt her abilities, but the unspoken question wasn't could she, but would she?
"I could," she confirmed. "I could bring him back good as new."
His jaw clenched, almost as if he were warring with himself, but a moment later, he ground out a quiet, "Do it. Bring him back. Bring Sam back, and give me ten years."
Lilith laughed, deep throated and amused. "Why would I want to do something like that?"
That made him pause, and it was clear he was struggling to come up with an answer. "That's what you do for everyone else," was what he finally settled on, sounding just a bit unsure.
"You're not everyone else. You're Dean Winchester. And you killed a very important man, as far as a lot of people in Hell are concerned."
"He had it coming." He didn't even bother trying to disupte the classification; it was an argument that would have them going in circles. "I'd think that'd be more inclination to do it." Because, to his way of thinking, if he had killed Yellow-Eyes, that meant he could kill any of them, right? Maybe. It was flawed logic, and he knew that.
"Oh, I don't know. I kind of like seeing you like this, all self-destructive with jagged edges. It's a wonder you aren't bleeding internally."
"Bitch." He couldn't help it if his patience was wearing thin -- demons grated on his nerves on the best of days, and he hated the fact that he was going to end up owing one ... that is, if she'd quit yanking his chain. That grated on his nerves, too.
"Dean, Dean, Dean..." the demon chided, her eyes glowing briefly red again. "You can't honestly expect me to wait ten years for you."
And there was literally no way in Hell that she was going to.
"Nine, then."
Really, when most people talk about the bargaining stage of grief, they didn't mean it quite as literally as Dean was taking it.
"Hmm, let me think. No."
Well, shit. This wasn't going at all the way he'd pictured, and there was a hint of desperation when he said, "Five then. Five years, and you come for me." A pause, and and he couldn't resist throwing in, "And I want my dad, too. You give me them, and then you get me."
He was bold. Bolder than almost anyone she'd made a deal with in the past... and she'd been making deals since, well, for a long time. She liked that about him. It amused her how, even in his desperation, he was trying to control the situation to his advantage. She respected it too, as much as she could, anyway.
And so she made a move as if she were going to kiss him... seal the deal and give him what he wanted.
"No deal," she told him, her mouth less than an inch from his.
She brushed past him and started to walk away.
He reached for her, fingers circling around her wrist just before she was out of reach, forcing her to stop. "What d'you want, then, huh? There're any number of other demons who'd gladly snap up that deal." But as the saying went, the devil you knew was better than the devil you didn't -- and at least she seemed to be a demon of her word.
"Good luck trying to get them to keep their word," she said lightly, slipping out Dean's grasp easily, and walking away again. "Can't wait to read about how it turns out in the newsletter," the last was called over her shoulder.
She'd only gotten perhaps ten steps away when Dean spoke again, quiet. "What do I have to do?" He had nothing left to bargain with; letting her name the terms was the only option left.
"Sign with us in the in the next five minutes and we'll throw in one family member of equal or lesser value absolutely free of charge," Lilith singsonged under her breath, smirking, before turning back around to face him.
While she enjoyed seeing people desperate, enjoyed hearing it in their voice and knowing they would agree to whatever it was she wanted, she'd never had any patience with the truly needy ones.
"To start, quit begging. It's a turn off and desperate really doesn't suit you. But I like you, Dean, so I'll overlook that. And because I like you, I'm gonna ignore how how much trouble this deal could get me in."
That caused Dean to raise a brow, though he didn't ask. If she got in trouble, well, it wasn't entirely his concern. Of course, when something sounded too good to be true, it probably was, and he couldn't help but ask, "What's the catch?" There had to be something.
"No catch," the demon replied, coming close enough again so that he could feel her breath hot on his face. "I'm willing to give you your family back, have them live long, natural lives like they were always supposed to. And because you caught me in a charitable mood, I'll give you one year---"
A year? It wasn't much, but then, it was more than he could have expected, and if it came down to the lives of Sam and John versus his own? Well, there was no contest. He didn't even need to consider it. She was close enough that it was only a fraction of a movement to bring him the remaining distance, to seal the deal. And he did it, with little care or concern to whatever else she had to say.
She'd bring them back -- and as long as they were alive? Anything else was inconsequential, as far as he was concerned.
Lilith laughed lightly when they broke apart. "You really should have waited to hear the rest of what I had to say," she told him, her eyes glowing red again. "Just because there's no catch doesn't mean there's not more to the contract."
"They'll live. What else do I care about?" Sad as it was, it was true, and more to the point, he never read the fine print.
"How about how if you or Daddy or Sammy try to get me to renege on our little deal, they both drop dead and instead of just your soul, I get the matched Winchester set? Well, except for Mommy, but I'm sure we could arrange to have her visit sometimes," her grin was as wide as it was smug. "Is that something you'd care about?"
His jaw clenched, but that didn't stop him from spitting out a quiet, "They won't," a moment later. John and Sam would look for a way, he knew that much -- but there was really only so much they could do without his help. And he wouldn't let them cross that line, or so he hoped.
"Oh, yes, they will. You're Sammy's big brother. He'd do anything for you," the demon informed him, her voice mockingly sweet. "And your Daddy? He climbed out of Hell to protect you from getting shot during that little showdown in May."
Their stupid devotion to each other was actually kind of touching. Or it would have been if she'd actually, you know, cared.
"They will try and get you out this deal, and they will fail. But hey, at least that guarantees you'll spend eternity together, right? Who cares if it's in Hell?"
She was hitting all the right buttons, and that annoyed Dean more than it hurt. "They won't. I won't let them." A pause, and he shook his head. His life wasn't worth their souls, and he'd make them see that, or die trying.
"Are we done here?" He just wanted to get out of there now, go find them, and be a family again, before time ran out.
She laughed again. "What, you're gonna leave me without so much as a thank you, after I've practically been a saint? I'm hurt, Dean."
"You? A saint?" It made him laugh, a dark, bitter sound, before he answered with a curt, "Yeah. I am." It might've been rude, but what did he care? It was a business transaction, little more, and he turned to walk away, back towards his car.
He paused a few feet away, though, turning back with a question on his lips. "Where are they?" Not that he expected her to give him an answer.
"I don't know," the demon lied flawlessly. "I'm not in charge of where they wind up. All I can tell you is that they're alive, and somewhere in the US. Which, you know, is better off than they were five minutes ago."
Dean refrained from rolling his eyes, though just barely. "Gee, thanks," he replied, with more than a hint of sarcasm, and he shook his head, then climbed into the car and started it, speeding off with barely a backwards glance. Three million and some odd square miles to search, and less than a year to do it. She'd have to forgive him if he didn't waste time with pleasantries.
The demon watched him go, a triumphant gleam in her red eyes. They'd be seeing each other again real soon, of that she was sure.