WHO: Crowley and tiny baby Emily! WHAT: Well, who else can he talk to?! WHEN: Tonight. WHERE: In his office. In Hell! RATING: Um, rated for bizarre hell-cute?! STATUS: Narrative: COMPLETE
Another “interview”, another body dragged out and leaving bloodstains on the carpet. Really, when Crowley had decided he wanted to take over Hell, this was not what he had in mind. While Ruby was off and slaughtering the known loyalists, those who would rather die than swear to him (and really, he was fine with either option) he was talking to those of a more dubious nature. Most of his Crossroads staff had been fine with the new management, being mostly the more pragmatic type of demon, and they understood that swearing allegiance to him as King of Hell wasn’t all that different to swearing to him as King of the Crossroads. No, it was those who did not worship Lucifer but still thrived on violence that were more questionable, and so Crowley took the time to drag some of them into his office and find out where their loyalties might lie, at least for now. Quite a few of them ended up oh so dead, but that was fine. If tiring.
As well as the news of quite how well Ruby was doing with her slaughters. It was unsettling, to say the least. Most demons would have been celebrating at the idea, but Crowley had always had more vision than most, abilities to see outside the box, and he could see the long term damage that could be caused if Ruby went too far into who she used to be.
Over in the corner, Emily started making grizzling noises, and Crowley sighed, dropping his knife onto the mahogany table and wandering over to pick her up. Had it been anyone but him or Ruby going near the baby, the pack of hellhounds led by the ever faithful Pup would have torn him apart. As it was they simply looked at their master, tails wagging. No, wait, they weren’t looking at him with such puppy eyes, they were looking at her.
“Come on, little antichrist, don’t you cry,” Crowley bounced her on his hip slightly as he wandered around the room with her. “Mommy will be back soon and she’s going to expect Uncle Crowley to know how to rescue Daddy. And Uncle Crowley would, even though Daddy would be a mean Daddy and threaten Uncle Crowley and maybe even shoot him and….” Emily let out a wail and Crowley petted her head. “I know, I know, Daddy’s mean, but I want to help him anyway because Mommy is my favorite.” This seemed to pacify the child somewhat and Crowley went back to pacing around, carrying Emily and being very glad no one could see them.
“Though really, what Uncle Crowley needs to worry about more is if he can even get Daddy out in the first place. Not to mention Uncle Dean and….” He paused with a frown. “Okay, not calling her Aunty Rebekah, my vampire’s sister is not your Aunty, that’s too weird. But her and Rose, who might actually be some kind of adopted Aunty, and the others. I seem to be expected to work miracles, kiddo, and I don’t know if I can do it. And if I don’t do it, Mommy will go off the deep end. But I won’t have to worry because my vampire’s psychotic brother would be making me into hybrid chow.” Right at that moment Emily let out a giggle and Crowley frowned at her. “You’re not supposed to find that idea funny. Now, where was I? Oh yes. Pressure to try to do the impossible and somehow save the day and be a hero and I don’t know if it can even be done.”
He walked over to the window, shifting Emily so she could look out over the fields of Hell. “See that? That’s Uncle Crowley’s responsibility now. All of it. As far as the eye can see. And hey, it could all be yours one day, kiddo, if you wanted it. Not much couldn’t be yours if you wanted it, though it would make Cassie’s feathers get all twisted.”
Oh, the angel. And wasn’t that just a whole new headache. “Now, let me make one thing clear to you, antichrist niece of mine, that angel doesn’t get to be an uncle. Because he is stupid. Potentially useful to me in the future, yes. But stupid and narrow minded and thinks he’s better than me.” He sighed, staring out over Hell, over the fires and racks. If he just opened the window, he’d be able to hear the screams of the damned. Screams he had once been part of, him and every other demon out there. “He doesn’t understand Hell,” his voice became a low murmur. “Doesn’t understand what it means to have a soul stripped to nothing.” Really, Castiel had some very strange ideas about what went on, bizarre and uninformed. Hell was more than pain. And Lilith and Azazel, they had been more than mere fanatics. He had taken Lilith to his bed many times and seen the dark genius of her mind. He had lived under Azazel’s rule, known how that demon had plotted decades in advance and knew how to play the long game better than anyone he had met, mortal or immortal. Castiel seemed to believe that whatever his superiors had deemed fit to tell him, whether they be truth or lies. Anna had told Crowley a lot of the truth, a lot of the hidden reality behind those pearly gates, and frankly Crowley thought it was as sick and twisted as Hell. At least Hell admitted it.
“Not sure what I’m even doing right now, Emily,” Crowley admitted, shifting the child in his arms so he could look at her. “How do I even tell them that this might not be possible, that their people might be gone forever? How do I tell an angel blinded by arrogance that the things he knows are wrong? And there is literally no one I can talk to about this. Your mother would go ballistic, Kol would lose it, Rose is gone, Anna hasn’t been seen or heard from in more than a year, if I mention doubts to Khan he’d get the Colt and shoot me, if I mention them to bloody Klaus he’d maim me. What am I even supposed to do here? Come on, you’re supposed to be the all powerful antichrist, you tell me. What do I do?”
Emily’s face screwed up as if in deep concentration, and for a moment Crowley wondered if she would, in fact, come up with some deep answer to all his problems. Could it even be done? Her head tilted slightly, and she looked up at Crowley before she solemnly lifted up her hand.