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Blood, Fire and Eyes

I...I fell into a soulmate trash pile...explanation comes as you read.

This is a long one! Word count: 10,048

A Crowley Fanfic

You knew from fairly early on that you were going to be different in life, after all, as soon as children were old enough to understand, adults would always ask, what colour can you see?

Children, knowing no better, would point out the closest object to them that had colour, something fairly easy to when you saw the world in black and white. Some kids would point at the grass, spending hours playing outside, others would point to the sky and spend their days looking upward, others would gladly climb trees, hands always touching the bark.

You pointed at an apple.

Your parents had laughed it off at first, simply thinking you weren't old enough to understand yet.

Then, a few months later, you pointed at a rose.

This began to worry them, but still, they shook it off and kept going on.

Almost a year later, you pointed to your aunt's pants when the family asked.

Your aunt's pants were unmistakably red.

It caused much of a stir around your family, after all, red wasn't a colour that children could normally see. Red was something that didn't exist until you knew.

You didn't see an issue at first, but when you were old enough to go to school, other kids began to talk.

Some talked about going to the ocean all the time, staring out at the great expanse of blue and green. Others talked about trips to the snow, learning to skate across the frozen lakes, revealing the icy blue underneath. Then there were the ones with a deep love of honey, how they talked their parents into letting them have it everyday just so they could watch the colour shine.

You were fascinated by their stories of course, after all, a lot of them could see more of the world than what you could, and they told their stories in such elaborate ways, that only children can, that made it sound so magical.

Then they found out about yours.

You spoke about your mothers rose garden, about watching the petals bloom in the sun, then about your fond love of apples and how your father was planting you a tree. Of your grandmother's lipstick and how it would always leave a mark on whatever she kissed, including your cheek.

The children didn't understand.

Children weren't meant to see red.

When you were about eight, you asked the question.

“Mumma, why can I see red?”

Your mother had sighed and then sat you down. “We see the colours of our partners eyes Y/N. Every shade, every slight difference. Clearly the world has someone very special for you waiting, because…red is very rare.”

Your parent’s theory remained that you were to meet an albino, after all, it was the only logical explanation they had and thoughts of anything else were oddly terrifying.

You weren't fazed at first, thinking little of it till you reached high school, then you knew just how bad things could get, especially when it was something that other people didn’t understand.

It was also when you really learnt that you could see another, very dangerous, shade of red.

Depression soon moved into fascination, doing it solely to fill the craving of seeing more of the colour.

That was until your mother caught you and made you swear never to do it again.

You swore, but it didn't make you feel any better.

Instead, your father brought you a comfort item. Occasionally, some children, and adults, couldn't bear the thought of not having anything nearby that made them feel like someone was there for them, and so, they go and find a comfort item, something that was usually small and could be taken with you everywhere.

You couldn't contain your awe when your father brought you home a ruby pendant. He had said something about the chain being silver, but you didn't care, you only had eyes for the pendant.

It helped a great deal, although you still questioned how you got through high school and into college. After all, most people avoided you, scared of the colour you could see.

You learnt that if people were really that shallow, they weren't worth your time anyway.

College was a quiet time for you, spending your focus on studying art, learning to draw and sketch. You kept colour out of work you handed in, but your personal work would always have inflections of red somewhere through it, and in all honesty, you thought they were your best works, certainly much more interesting than just the plain ones you drew during class.

But it was better if people didn't know.

You'd watched a fair few people find their soulmates now, not personally, but you often seemed to catch two people meeting randomly for the first time, gasps of awe, squeals of delight, or sheer breaking down into tears were common. It was rather fascinating to you, but you never really looked out for your own.

It wasn't that you didn't want to, it was more that everyone had told you it was so rare that you didn't bother holding your breath.

So, you let life go on, going through college as best you could, making the friends you could, and just living as well as you could. In the darker moments your hand would wrap around that necklace and it would ease the ache that would be forming in your chest for while.

However, it was when you came home from your second year of college that your life was upturned dramatically.

You'd come home several days early, intending to surprise your parents and congratulate your little brother on getting into his college. Deciding to sneak in the back way, you thought nothing of it.

That was until you saw the red. The red was everywhere.

It took you a moment to process what you were seeing, that this was that dangerous red that had sent you sinking, except this…there was a lot of this.

And it had come from your family.

You don't really remember screaming, or the neighbour's turning up and pulling you away, it wasn't until a blanket was wrapped around you from a paramedic that reality seemed to set back in.

There had been so much red.

Your grandmother was the first there, red lips moving as she talked to you, comforted you. The paramedics and police officers were walking around with red on their gloves, slipping them off as they grimly talked to each other. Your neighbours were watching from the sidelines, one of then wearing a short skirt that seemed to burn hot in the sun.

You had to close your eyes. This was too much.

At the police station, you answer many questions, questions that made you burn with anger, made you want to burst into tears, but you kept it together. Now was no time to be breaking down.

“It was probably a wild animal.” One of them had the gall to say, earning a dark glare from you, which quickly shut them up.

Then, two very different men arrived.

They flashed badges at the other officers, but you could tell instantly that they weren't anything of the sorts. The older one did all the talking, while the much younger seemed to be too interested in checking a blonde police officer.

You spent enough time watching people for art to know phonies when you them.

Yet, you still played along, at least for a little bit.

“Miss Y/L/N, I'm agent Williams, this is agent Dawson, we were wondering if we could have a few moments of your time?” The older one asked, holding out his hand.

You took it and shrugged. “It's not like I'm going anywhere any time soon.”

He gave a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. “Sorry to do this again to you, but can you tell us what happened?”

You humoured them, ignoring agent Dawson who moved to check you out. “I came home early from college, wanting to surprise them. Instead, I walk in to a lot of blood and their throats torn out.”

Agent Williams didn't even blink. “Was there any signs of forced entry? Any odd smells or animal tracks?”

You pursed your lips. “Honestly, I was hardly paying attention to any of that, I was more concerned about the red everywhere.”

This seemed to make agent Dawson lose interest. “Well, it probably was an animal attack.”

Your eyes narrowed on him and you folded your arms. “Look, I could have you both arrested you know. I know you're not agents, but I can tell you obviously want to help. We all know it's not a damned animal attack, so why don't you zip the act and tell me what is going on?”

They share a look, the younger shrugging, before the older looks back at you. “You're better off staying out-“

“My family is dead. Don't tell me what I should do.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but seems to think better of it, sighing a little. “Alright, but not here.”

So it was agreed to meet in a bar later.

You were looking forward to a drink.

Your grandmother had been hesitant to let you go out, but after a while and some arguing, she let you go. You both knew that you were going to deal with this in your own way.

That way was having a stiff drink or two and talking to two strangers.

They walked in after you finished your first drink and quickly joined you, the younger flashing what he obviously thought was a charming smile.

“Name's John,” The elder held out his hand again. “And this is my son Dean.”

“Nice to have a proper introduction,” You said, taking his hand again. “You wanna drink?”

Normally, this would be against your own self-preservation, you weren’t one to get involved with strangers, but you could tell they knew something about what happened, and you wanted to know.

“You're betted off not knowing kid, this life isn't easy.” John warned, but you held his gaze steadily.

“I have seen my entire family, bar my grandmother, almost ripped entirely to pieces before my eyes.” You said. “If you have any better excuse for me, please, I'm willing to listen.”

“Someone like you isn’t fit for this line of work.” Dean cuts in, making me raise an eyebrow. “Well, someone as pretty and as smart as you would have to be going to a fancy school for a fancy degree right?”

John hits Dean on the back of the head. “Show her some respect Dean, she's just lost her family.” He sighs as Dean rubs the back of his head. “What he was trying to say, is that this life isn't pretty. We get a lot of dangers thrown our way, and unless you're tough, there's no way you're going to make it.”

The set of your jaw impressed John, you could read it hidden in his expression, even as you downed your drink again. “Shoot.”

So you found yourself as bait against vampires. If it hadn't been for the wounds you'd seen, you would have laughed at them both, but something about it made sense, something felt right.

Things didn't go quite to plan, vampires were faster than you'd imagined, so you ended up wounded before John and Dean could intervene, but the vampires were killed, and you sat a little numbly, watching your blood drip to the floor.

“Good work kid,” John's hand clasped your shoulder. “Vamps aren't an easy kill, and we got them all.”

I looked at him for a moment, before back at the blood. “What else do you guys hunt?”

John's hand clenched a little before letting you go. “That doesn't matter kid, you need to go back to your grandmother and look after each other.”

You stood, facing him, Dean standing a little further back. “No way. Not after that. You can't do that to me. Not after what I've seen.”

“There's no love in this job kid,” John said sternly, Dean nodding in agreeance. “No cushy chairs, no friends, no relaxing. This is all blood and dirt.”

Your jaw was set, your gaze determined. “I can handle it.”

They still said no.

So you were left alone, helping your grandmother handle things, then quitting college to stay with her.

She said you didn't have to, but you couldn't risk anything coming after her too.

You started training yourself.

In the few years your grandmother was still alive, you had little time to worry about the colour red, although it still vividly haunted your dreams, you just focused on training, getting yourself ready should something happen again and throwing yourself into learning all you could about supernatural creatures, working out fact from fiction. Your art became darker, but you were the only one to ever see that.

It was about three years later when your grandmother passed. After the funeral, you left that town and never looked back.

You didn't care about glitz and glamour, it had never been something that you cared about to begin with, too much attention, then too many awkward questions, so life on the road suited you.

You took on a few cases on your own, trial and error really, before another hunter crossed your path and you begged her to show you the ropes, something she only agreed to so you wouldn't wind up dead in your first year of hunting.

That opened up a lot of doors for you.

Ellen may have been retired, but she still sure as hell knew what she was doing. With her help, you got introduced to a wide range of hunters, some more willing than others to help out and give you a go.

Something you also quickly learnt about hunters, was that none of them have a damn what colour you saw, so no one ever asked.

Within a year or two, you'd more than earned their respect.

You'd been so focused and learnt so quickly, that it didn't take you long to become a decent hunter. They were also impressed by you looking out for Jo, Ellen's daughter, who had quickly looked up to you, and while you very rarely talked hunting with her, the two of you were good friends.

Harvelle's Roadhouse was a place for comfort for you and Ellen always made sure you had a bed.

When whispers got round of high demon activity, you suddenly found yourself staying put, getting the urge that something was coming.

That something turned out to the Winchesters.

Dean had frozen when he'd seen you, helping Ellen restock the bar, his mouth open. “Y/N?”

You looked at him a moment before smirking. “Well, if it isn’t agent Dawson.”

You knew about the Winchesters, most hunters did, but never once did you think that it had been them that saved you, or at least, Dean and John. Sam was quickly more than curious.

“We told you to stay out of this.” Dean said a little angrily, but you shrugged it off.

“I didn't have anything left, seemed the right thing to do.”

Dean gawked at you, but Ellen was quick to cut in. “She's a damned fine hunter Dean, and neither you nor your dad had the right to tell her not to go along with vengeance.”

He looked a little guilty and annoyed so it was left to that.

“I'm sorry about your dad.” You had said quietly and both men gave their thanks.

They became frequent visitors to the bar after that. Sometimes you were there and sometimes you weren't, but Jo would always fill you in, her and Ash giving you what information you needed.

It seemed that the two brother's had a knack for trouble.

You'd been furious when the bar was destroyed, and it took Ellen a lot of time to convince you not to track down Sam and Dean.

You were all on your own now.

In the chaos that followed, you ran into Sam, Dean and Bobby on your first demon case.

“Y/N, I told you to stay away from demon cases.” Bobby was the first to speak when you literally ran into them.

You shrugged. “I was told I was the only one in the area Bobby, what you want me to do?”

“Stay out of it,” Dean said. “Demon's are above your paygrade.”

Dean grumbled over a broken nose then.

Demon hunting was different from what you were used to, they were a lot more cunning, a lot more powerful, and a lot harder to take down.

But you listened to the three of them and learned from what you saw, and despite their warnings, you wanted the challenge.

It was as you joined the three of them at a bar once the job was over that you realised something was different, stopping mid sentence and staring at the table.

“You okay?” Bobby asked.

You ran your hand over the wood, the brown muted, but still very much there, making you frown around at the room.

Everything was still black and white apart from the small hints of red, and now muted brown, around.

“Y/N?” Bobby asked again and you looked back to find all three of them looking at you.

“Yeah,” You said quickly and shook your head. “Must just be tired.”

After that, agitated, you were quick to track down Ellen.

“I haven't seen you such a mess since that werewolf in Boston.” Ellen said when she saw you. “What's eating you?”

“I know hunters don't talk about it,” You started once seated and a beer in front of you. “I know a lot of them have lost their soulmates and that’s how they got into this,” You cast a glance at Ellen, who nods. “But…” You weren't sure how to ask. “How much do you know about it?”

Ellen was surprised, but she sat opposite you with a kind look. “What's happened?”

You took a breath. “Well, people only see one colour beforehand right? The colour of their partner’s eyes?”

Ellen nods.

“Well…what does it mean when a second colour appears?” You asked. “It's muted sure, but it's bloody weird being able to see brown.”

Ellen frowns. “What colour could you see before?”

You hesitated. “I'm not entirely sure you'd believe me.”

“Try me.”

You shifted a little uncomfortably, not sure if this would change things. “Red.”

Ellen looks surprised and seems to think for a long moment. “And here I was thinking that you'd already found yours.”

You shook your head. “No, we get taught in art school for recognising the varying shades of black and grey. I got good at guessing.”

She nods. “Well, I always knew that there was something about you, wouldn't have said it was seeing red, but, every one of us has a place.” She thinks though. “I don't know about the second colour though, that's a new one on me. I'll ask around, subtly of course, if you like?”

You smiled at that and thanked her, sharing a drink.

As days past, you noticed a few more colours filtering through your vision, occasionally there were moments of green and blue and gold, and this made you even more uncomfortable, especially when you had to ignore it to hunt.

Red was still always the most vivid though.

Then the apocalypse was thrown into your life. A lot of hunters blamed the Winchester's, and while you knew they were involved, you certainly weren't about to go after their heads.

But you did find yourself at Bobby's.

Ellen knew that they would need all the help they could get, so she sent you to where she knew they would go.

“And that favour you asked for?” Your silence was her answer. “Nothing's ever been proven, but rumour is, is that you're closer.”

You weren't sure how to take that.

You and Bobby had worked well together before, so things fell easily into place, you being his eyes and ears in the field, as well as being the comforting word whenever you were there. He'd never been the same since losing his legs and you couldn't blame the old hunter.

You ran into Sam and Dean a few times, got filled in about them being vessels for Lucifer and Michael, and were assured that they'd never allow it to happen.

It didn't ease your fears, but you went along with it.

That was until you found out that they agreed to work with a demon.

“Look, you're angry, I get it,” Bobby said, stepping towards you. “But what else was I supposed to do? He had information that we needed.”

“Someone selling their soul is the whole reason that this has happened Bobby,” You argued angrily, making Dean glare at you. “You said so yourself, that demons can't be trusted.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Dean cut in and you rounded on him.

“You know very well what it means, Dean Winchester.” You snapped. “And you can give me any excuse that you want, but it won’t change my opinion.”

Dean stepped forward. “Oh, because you just handle all this so well don’t you? You know so much about what I’m like and what my family has been through.”

“If you are intending to accuse me of not being willing to do anything for family, then I hope you’re willing to accept another broken nose over it Dean.” You growled, not backing down as Dean stepped even closer.

Sam stepped between the two of you. “Guys, stop. No matter what’s been done, that doesn’t solve this issue now.”

“He’s right you two.” Bobby said. “And trust me Y/N, I’m not proud of doing this, but if this helps stop Lucifer, then I’ll take that damned chance!”

You still didn’t like it, no matter what they told you about Crowley and what he’d done to actually help them so far. There was no supernatural creature you could trust in your eyes, even Castiel drew a lot of hesitation from you, so you became determined to avoid him too.

However, when it came to the end of the road, you weren’t about to be pushed out onto another case, you knew that you had to help.

So you found yourself with Bobby and Castiel, waiting.

You checked your gun for the umpteenth time.

A hand rested on your shoulder. “Won’t matter how many times you check that gun Y/N, still won’t do much.” Bobby said gently.

You nod. “I know, but it sure as hell makes me feel better.”

“I don’t know how,” Castiel said. “We’re going into certain doom, chances are none of us will make it out of there.”

“Always full of positivity you are.” You grunt, putting your gun away and glaring at the angel. “Come on, let’s get this done.”

Appearing in the graveyard, things had gone from bad to worse quickly. Castiel had managed to get Michael to vanish, but then Lucifer was quick to kill him and then Bobby, leaving just you and Dean.

“Can’t be too bad,” You said. “I mean, you didn’t kill us all at once right?”

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed on you, which was an odd look seeing on Sam, but for whatever reason, he made no attempt forward. “Now, aren’t you an interesting thing.”

You swallowed, but didn’t let it show that you were terrified. “Thing? Now that’s hardly polite. I came here to kick your arse, not be insulted.”

His eyes flashed and amusement crossed his expression. “Oh, I’d like to see you try. You can play tough all you want, but you’re nothing more than a scared little girl.”

“Scared, maybe,” You tossed the bottle in your hand. “Little girl, keep calling me that and I’ll show you exactly how little I am arsehole.”

Lucifer laughed. “Oh, if you live past today, demons are going to have fun with you.”

“Demons? What? Not going to deal with me yourself?”

“Why would I do that?” He asked. “Especially when it’s one of them you belong to.”

You froze, tilting your head. “I what now?”

“This is to all you worthless little scumbags out there,” A voice echoed in your head, making you tense even as a shiver ran down your spine. “This little hunter thinks that she is worthy of facing me and you. I suggest, should today go wrong, dealing with her in whatever manner you see fit, lest, you face my wrath when I next see you.”

Lucifer’s grin widens. “Oh, now that is amusing. I’m tempted to leave it just like that. They can create the man hunt and sort you out from there, after all, it’s always fun breaking them more.”

You could feel your heart hammering. While you didn’t want to believe his words, something felt right about them, and the sudden flicker of colours before you seemed to confirm those words.

And this made you angry.

“Right,” You bit. “And because you’re an all-powerful arseangel that gives you the right to say what you want? What would you know about how humans work anyway?”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed, but he just smirked. “None of you are that complicated, despite what you think.” He glances at Dean, who was standing there furious. “Hence why he is here for his brother, despite the fact that he knows it won’t make any sort of difference.

Dean's scowl is dark. “I wouldn't celebrate too early, this isn't over yet.”

You pelted your bottle at Lucifer, who was distracted by Dean, but with hardly a movement, he sent it flying back, making you dive quickly out of the way to avoid the explosion, but not far enough that the flames caught your leg.

Nothing else mattered then, pain searing through you as you desperately tried to put the flames out. You didn't realise you were screaming, but it didn't seem to matter how much you rolled or struggled, the flames wouldn't go out.

You had never known pain like this.

Just when you thought that you were about to give up, that your body wouldn’t take anymore and you could blissfully move on, coolness flooded you and you gasped deeply at the fresh air flooding your lungs, the flashes of red from the fire clearly from your vision.

Once you could focus on the sky, you whimpered.

Dean was beside you in an instant. "Hey, are you alright?"

Unable to speak, you shake your head.

Castiel joined him. "You are fully healed, I see there is nothing else wrong."

They helped you up, but you could still feel yourself shaking, still feel the heat, and it made your stomach churn.

Dean leapt back just in time as you threw up.

"I can't imagine burning in holy fire was a pleasant experience." Castiel said, having not moved and keeping you standing.

"No shit." You groaned. "What happened?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Sam...Sam took back control."

You looked up and held Dean's gaze, knowing that that had been what the original plan was. "Dean..."

"Don't," He said. "I don't want to hear it, not from you."

This made you feel even worse. "Dean, I know that we've never completely seen eye to eye-"

"I said don't Y/N," Dean snapped. "Is it true what he said? That you are a demon's soulmate?"

Your shoulders sunk and you leaned heavily on Castiel, even as he cast you a worried glance. "I don't know Dean."

"What colour do you see?"

"I-"

"Just answer it!" He growled. "Go on, tell me you see black."

You shake your head. "No, and even then, it'd be a bit hard to distinguish that wouldn't it? I see red Dean," Your voice broke a little. "Do you have any idea how hard it is? Seeing red? The colour of blood, the colour of fire, nothing ever good." You stepped away from Castiel, jabbing Dean in the chest. "And it damned well near breaks me every time I see something because it makes it worse. It makes me bloody miserable."

Dean was breathing hard as he held your gaze. "So why do you have the necklace? Why do you have a comfort item if it hurts you that much?"

"Because otherwise I would've killed myself by now." You snarled and Bobby had to grab you as you went to lunge at Dean. "It was all anyone ever cared about and then they would avoid me when they knew, so I learnt to keep it quiet, but with that quietness came other things."

"Easy Y/N," Bobby said. "You've both just been through a lot, no need to take it out on each other."

Dean's glare turned to Bobby. "If this gets out, every hunter is going to be after her head Bobby."

"Like that's going to be anything compared to the demons that Lucifer's already sent after me." You said, making the three men tense. "Yeah, he did that just before he almost burnt me to a crisp. Saw it as a mixture of torture for both me and them."

"Sick bastard," Bobby growled. "Well, either way, we need to get you two somewhere safe and quiet for now, give you guys time to rest."

"No." Dean growled. "Because I quit."

Dean turned on his heel without another word, Bobby calling after him, but he didn't look back as he climbed into the Impala and drove away.

You shuddered, fighting back all the emotions, as well as the sickening feeling of still burning. “Bobby…”

Bobby looked back at you, his gaze concerned.

“Will hunters really come after me with information like that?” You didn’t want to ask, but you had to trust someone right now, you had to know that at least one person didn’t care.

“I don’t know kid,” Bobby said earnestly. “But we’ll keep it under wraps as much as we can, because if there’s one thing I know about hunters, is that can be unpredictable when they want to be.”

It took six months before any demons seriously came after you, six months of living very much under the radar, with help from Bobby and Ellen, keeping hunting to a minimum, which was frustrating, but you all knew once word got out, you wouldn’t have much of a choice.

Then, by sheer chance, a demon happened to come across you.

And chaos hit.

You were forced to go on the run, closing off as much contact as you could to try and protect the others from being used against you. Some didn’t even so much as flinch, but others insisted on still helping, such as Bobby and Ellen, but it always made you feel uneasy.

When news reached you of Ellen and Jo’s death, from demons of all things, you shut down. It was a last straw for you and you swore that you would take down any demon that crossed your path.

And stories of the demon hunter soon spread.

Crowley managed to avoid the topic for a while, but after a couple of years his demons began to become annoyingly insistent about it, so it was only then that he approached Sam and Dean.

“Hello boys,” He said casually as he appeared in the motel room they happened to be in at the time, both of them pulling out their guns. “Relax, I’m simply wanting to…offer a suggestion.”

“About what?” Dean growled. “Crowley, you are currently the last person we want-”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “And the sheer fact that there is someone else out there that can help is of no interest to you?”

Sam and Dean shared a look. “What are you talking about Crowley?”

“I’m talking about that little hunter friend that you no doubt know who is particularly gifted in killing demons,” Crowley said, impatiently looking at them. “Or did it not occur to you that she could actually help against the Leviathans?”

Sam was first to shake his head. “Not a chance Crowley. She has enough trouble dealing with your demons all the time, let alone practically handing her to you.”

“You really think I’m interested in killing her?” Crowley asked. “Honestly, I find it nothing short of amusing that she’s lasted this long and at this point any imbecile that is stupid enough to go after her, deserves it. Surely you don’t think I’m actually going to listen to Lucifer’s orders do you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Dean said. “The answer is still no. She doesn’t need this too.”

Crowley continued to argue with them but he soon realised that it was going to go nowhere, so he left them be.

It had always been an odd curiosity to him, that Lucifer had specifically requested for a human to be hunted and him not bothering to do it himself. Once Crowley had become king, he’d sent demons to investigate, but everyone he sent seemed to be unable to fight the temptation of trying to kill you themselves, something they quickly regretted. He’d soon given up sending them, just letting the occasional reports filter through, so his curiousity remained unsated, but he still never forgot.

The demons were always insistent that you needed to be taken out, but Crowley had no interest in doing so. You was doing him a service really, getting rid of Lucifer’s loyal ones, so he’d shrug it off as much as he could.

He still thought you could help with the Leviathans, but sending more demons after you turned out to be a bigger mistake than he realised at the time.

Crowley had been as amazed as anyone once he realised he could still see his one colour after becoming a demon, after all, all the others talked about was how things had gone black and white. He knew it was something to keep quiet on, after all, it could be unnecessary ammunition against him, so he was the only one who knew, even after all this time.

However, he had never known pain to come with it.

He’d been in the middle of the meeting when pain had seared through his head, making him growl in pain and press his hand over his eye, quickly earning the attention of all the demons in the room.

“What are you all looking at?” He growled, rubbing his eye. “Never seen anyone get so bored they get a headache before?”

This had made the demons flinch, quickly returning to the topic at hand. What Crowley hadn’t expected when he’d opened his eye again, was for some of the colour to be replaced by black, and not just the ordinary shade that things tended to fall into, this was a nothingness black and he did not like it at all.

It took him a long time to get used to it.

After the Leviathan’s, Crowley had little time to worry about the demon hunter or even the loss of colour from his sight, the demon tablet and then Abaddon being his main set of concerns.

Until he realised that Abaddon knew about you.

It made Crowley nervous, although he wasn’t sure why at the time, ignoring the suspicions that popped up in the back of his mind.

“You can’t even handle a little demon hunter Crowley,” Abaddon had goaded. “How can you expect to rule hell when one little hunter slips through your grasp?”

Crowley hadn’t taken to it kindly, so he did something he never thought he would.

He went looking.

The trail wasn’t hard to follow, even after being kept by the Winchester’s for some time, although he soon realised he was still about a month behind you and the path of dead demons you had left.

Crowley couldn’t fault you, you were thorough with your work, ensuring that if fights had been public, then there was a hell of good story behind them, some of which he had to hold back laughter behind.

Then he came across your last known location, a hotel room in some back water location, something of which he could only go off the description that had been passed along by his demons and then others that had encountered her along the way.

The hotel room was quiet and Crowley could feel that the air was a little off.

Which may have had something to do with the moldy half eaten burger sitting on the table.

Screwing up his nose, he looked around, all your stuff still there, a bag half open, clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor, car keys on the bedside table with a bottle of wine.

Yet he knew, you hadn’t been here in a while.

Crowley walked over to your bag, pulling things out, including a gun, but there was no hint as to what had happened. Looking back at the bed, it was obvious that someone had sat on it, perhaps even fallen asleep, but it hadn’t been for long.

It was here that he saw your art book.

Picking it up, more out of curiousity than anything, Crowley flicked through the pages.

He actually found himself sitting, examining each picture, each one seeming to tell a story, your story. Some pictures were darker than others, obviously from harder times in your life, but it actually made him happy to see that you were doing that you were enjoying.

Crowley wasn’t overly happy when he came across the picture of Lucifer, or the others really, even a few demons that he recognized, but then came to other ones, ones lacking detail, very different to others throughout the book. The figure lacked recognisable detail except for the eyes, the eyes were always drawn vividly and Crowley knew enough to recognize that they had also been colour, he just couldn’t pick with what.

The last page in the book had a line across the page, a half completed drawing of a dog staring up at him, but there was also a small amount of what he recognised as blood.

Crowley didn’t need to guess what had happened. It looked like you luck had finally run out in avoiding demons.

Abaddon soon confirmed it for him.

"How can you not know anything?" He asked Sam and Dean, rather angrily, having gone straight to the once Abaddon played the bait. "I thought she was your friend?"

"Of course she is Crowley, but Y/N has been on the run for a long time now, it's not unusual for us to go months without hearing anything." Sam said, even as Dean sent you a message.

"There, I've asked her, but don't expect her to reply for several days," Dean said. "But to answer your question, we're friends, but she refuses to let anyone help her, especially after..." Dean cut himself off, looking grim. "Why would you care anyway? She kills your kind for a living."

"Because she's useful." Crowley said without missing a beat. "And I hate seeing useful people go to waste, and I know for a fact that you won’t get any reply because bloody Abaddon has her!"

“How do you know that?” Sam asked.

“Apart from the bitch telling me?” Crowley snarled. “I found her hotel room and it was pretty obvious that she hadn’t been there in a few days.”

“Why did you go to her hotel room?” Dean asked, frowning at Crowley. “I thought you, of all people, would want to avoid her? Save your own hide?”

Crowley’s lips formed a thin line. “Well, when you two idiots preferred not to get her involved, with all these issues with Abaddon, I had little choice but to take action now did I?”

Sam and Dean shared a look, but didn't say anything.

Several days passed and you didn't respond, this finally making Sam and Dean worried, but they had little time to think about what to do about it before Abaddon drew in their full attention.

As Crowley sat, trapped by Abaddon, he couldn't help but notice the flickering of colour around him, fading in and out.

In all his long years, it had never done that before, and it was almost traumatising to think it would die away completely, admitting to himself in that moment that he was still looking.

Abaddon taunted him, including being able to capture the demon hunter, who was now being kept out of the way and tortured for all that had happened, something that Crowley wasn't impressed to hear, silently cursing the Winchester's for being so naïve about it.

Once Dean had successfully killed Abaddon, Crowley demanded that they both go and find you as soon as possible.

"Crowley, why do you care so much?" Sam asked. "You've never even met her and yet here you are constantly looking out for her."

For once, Crowley didn't have an answer, at least not one that sounded believable.

It was about six month before they found you. Dean having gone from demon to back, Sam having been trying to track you both, and Crowley torturing any demon that so much breathed a word about it, trying to find out more.

It was Dean that came up the theory first, giving an odd look as he remembered something. "Didn't Y/N say that she could see red?"

Sam looked up at him over his laptop. "What?"

"Wasn't that Y/N's colour?" Dean asked. "Her comfort item and such, that was red?"

Sam thinks and then nods slowly. "Yeah, yeah it was. Why?"

Dean was frowning. "I mean, I don't really want to say this, but what if- I mean, it could be wrong, but-". Dean shakes his head and sighs. "What if Y/N and Crowley are...you know..."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You think Y/N and Crowley are soulmates?"

"It makes sense doesn't it?" Dean asked, still frowning. "Y/N sees red and Crowley has this damned obsession with someone that he's never met."

"Dean, demons can't see colour." Sam said firmly. "You admitted that yourself when you turned."

Dean nods. "I know, but Crowley doesn't exactly come across as a normal demon does he? And I'd hardly ever call Y/N normal."

Sam chews his lip, clearly thinking about it. "I mean, I suppose it's possible, but I still doubt it."

Crowley insisted on coming with them once they found you.

At first, the sounds that reached you didn't make much sense, through the grogginess of your mind, little made sense anymore, and yet this was something new.

It was howls and barks and vicious growls.

The demons in the room were growing nervous, you couldn't see them, but you could feel it and it actually made you attempt a smile.

"What's the matter?" Your voice croaked. "Scared?"

A demon had hit you, something that made you chuckle. It was nothing compared to what you had been through.

The howls got closer and you chuckled. “Hell hounds are coming boys, hope you're ready for a fight.”

There was another hit and you blacked out, your body slumping where it was tied up, too exhausted to focus on anything anymore.

After the Hell Hounds had cleared up the demons, Sam and Dean were first in, guns drawn.

Sam saw you first, eyes going wide. “Y/N!”

They both hurried over, Sam checking your pulse. You were alive, but barely.

“Jesus Sam…” Dean was checking you over, your clothes in tatters, soaked in blood. “She's a wreck.”

“We need to get her to a hospital,” Sam said, working on the ties holding you up. “We still got those spare clothes?”

Dean was hesitant. “Are…are sure we want to Sam?”

Sam looked at him. “What?”

Dean was staring at you. “Sam, I mean, look at her…she's a wreck, who knows what she's been through, she's-“

“Can't believe someone can be as tough as you boys?” Crowley said, stepping in, but he wasn't looking at them, he was looking at you.

“Come on Crowley, being tortured by demons isn't exactly being in candy land here. She's going to be traumatised for life.” Dean said, watching as Crowley walked up to you.

Crowley ignores him. “Move Sam.”

Sam looked at Crowley as he was about to try and move you from the chair. “What? Crowley, we need to-“

Crowley waved his hand sending Sam falling back before he crouched in front of you.

There was a deep scar down one of your eyes, one that had healed over but at the cost of your eye, and this told Crowley more than he wanted to know, frowning and sighing.

“Honestly, you boys can't make a decision like this.” He growled and before they could react, you both vanished.

It had been some time since you’d had a dream like this, after all, Abaddon enjoyed keeping you as sleep deprived as possible, but this was definitely the worst one that you had ever had.

You could practically feel the fire kissing at your skin, could feel it cooking away, burning at whatever it touched, and you desperately wanted to scream, desperately wanted it to stop, to move back to the coolness of the darkness of unconsciousness, but it wasn’t letting you up.

What made it worse, was when you tried to struggle, tried to fight against the flames kissing at your skin, and found that you couldn’t. Your body felt frozen in place, simply being forced to sit and endure the pain, adrenaline pumping through you, practically buzzing with the desire to flee but being unable to.

Then, something seemed to sooth you, you couldn’t quite pin point what it was, but the feeling of the flames eased away and you felt your lungs shudder, almost in protest to having the relief. Slowly, the cool relief of darkness returned, until something else stirred you.

The beeping was what woke you up, incessant and high pitched, making you frown a little as you stirred.

Coming around further, you started to feel the pain, different to the burning but still making your breathing deepen, and attempt to shift a little.

“I wouldn't do that too much love,” A voice said. “You're not exactly in the best way.”

It was then you felt the tubes sticking out of you, including down your throat and this made you tense, feeling as if you were choking.

A hand rested on your arm, and the calmness returned. “Relax, you're in a hospital, perfectly safe and comfortable, despite your current condition.”

You wanted to open your eyes and see who this person was, but everything felt so heavy, a strangled groan leaving you in protest.

“I would imagine it would be painful,” The voice was hesitant. “And truth be told, I can ease all that pain, but not without a little deal first.”

Your groan turned to a growl and you tried a little harder to open your eyes.

“It's nothing complicated my dear, I promise, certainly not on the soul selling level, that would be rather cruel of me given what you've recently been through and what I believe you are.”

This caused you to frown a little and struggle just a little more to get at least something working on your body.

“Kind of ironic really but I guess that that is how fate intended it to be, if it is indeed true of course.” He continued. “A demon and a demon hunter.”

A million thoughts went through your mind and this time your growl was of frustration.

“Don't worry, Squirrel and Moose explained what has happened, although with some reluctance-” He paused when he saw your frown deepen. “The Winchester's love. They are friends of yours, correct? Idiot friends, but friends.”

You found this odd, that a demon would know Sam and Dean, at least on a level that they would give him information, especially about yourself and you tried to think of the all the things that Sam and Dean had ever mentioned to you.

The hand that was still on your arm moved slightly, fingers starting a light pattern almost absently, but you couldn’t complain that the touch was unwanted. You were sensing no threat, something that usually happened when demons were close, but the thrum of power at his fingertips was unmistakable.

You felt he was about to talk when the door burst open.

“What the-“

“Crowley, get away from her.”

Crowley? The name rang a bell to you, even as the three men started to talk, or more, argue, and you tried to focus on why you knew the name.

Sam and Dean had helped you over the years and kept you informed of demon activity as best they could, telling you of signs and such as they saw them so that you knew where to avoid or, a couple of times, where to get out of.

But there was only ever one demon that they mentioned by name.

Crowley.

This made you focus more. The King of Hell, someone who they seemed to have a constant on again, off again relationship with since the apocalypse. You'd known about him then, but thought little of it, and it wasn't until a few years ago when they warned he was asking questions, that you thought anymore beyond that, going even more out of your way to try and avoid attention.

Now, it seemed, he was the one who had saved your life.

“What's so wrong about that?” Crowley's voice cut through your thoughts. “A little opening of the eyes and it's all sorted.”

“And if she's not, you're just going to leave her there.” Dean asked. “You're disgusting.”

“She's in capable hands, they got her straight into surgery and most of her wounds are successfully on the mend.” Crowley said. “Which is more than I say for what you two were discussing.”

“Y/N hates demons Crowley, what makes you think that this will work? You’d be the last person that she’d want to be with.” Dean argued. “Plus, after all she's been through-“

“Dean, we agreed we couldn't leave her there.” Sam said softly. “No matter what.”

“Yeah, but nor should we be leaving her with him.” Dean growled. “No matter who thinks what.”

“Gentlemen!” A loud female voice said. “Please, this is a hospital! If you are going to argue like this, go outside.”

You chose that moment to struggle a little more, especially against the one on your throat, suddenly feeling more than constricted again, getting the nurses attention and she hurried the three men out of the room.

You were grateful when the tube was gone, taking in deep breathes of air, finally able to open your eyes, but less grateful when the doctors came in and started asking questions, including ones about how you got that way, something which you were more than unwilling to talk about, saying you didn't remember.

The doctors didn’t seemed surprised by this answer. “With the amount of trauma your bodies been through, I'm not surprised.”

“How did you lose your eye?”

That question you were more ready for. “Bar fight.” Which was, for the most part, the truth, because that was where the demons had found you.

Finally, you were left alone on high pain killers, something you quickly turned down, not wanting your head to be foggy, and feeling like you'd been through enough anyway that this was going to be nothing.

You'd also convinced the doctor to give you the chart, because while they said mostly what the damage was, you could tell it wasn't all of it and you knew you’d feel better knowing, especially after being through so much.

This was what you were reading when Sam walked in.

“Twelve broken ribs, a punctured lung, left leg shattered in three places, burns on the right leg, stab wounds on the back just missing all vital organs, several missing teeth, fractured eye socket, irregular heart rate, a broken nose and a sliced up right ear.” You read out as he walked in, your voice hoarse. “Well, that's what they gave me recently, but I can assure you it's been much worse, especially when Abaddon had me.” You throw the board down, making Sam wince. “When she found out I was terrified of fire, well, not much other torture would do, would it?”

“I'm sorry Y/N,” Sam said softly, looking uncomfortable. “You didn't deserve to go through all that.”

“No,” You said a little bitterly, looking at him with a small smile. “But I guess that's what happens when you insult the devil. I guess I should just feel lucky that he wasn't around to do it himself, then I could really count my cards.”

Sam looked uncomfortable. “How are you feeling?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really Sam?”

He gave a small guilty laugh. “Right, I'm sorry. I mean, at least you look better than when we found you.”

“I can't imagine by much.” You grumbled, staring at some of the tubes going into you and at some of the heavy bruising you could see, before looking back at him. “Where's Dean and Crowley?”

Sam blinks. “You know about Crowley?”

“I was awake when you guys were arguing, so yeah.” You gave a small amused smile. “You the peacekeeper?”

Sam nods. “Yeah, I was told to make sure you were alright seeing as Dean won't leave Crowley by himself.”

“Cute,” You said. “But tell Dean I can handle myself, even like this, even against the King of Hell.”

Sam's jaw dropped a little, looking unsure. “You…you want to see Crowley?”

You sighed. “Sam, look at me. All someone would have to do is pull the plug and I'm gone. He was here, from what I can gather, for hours, didn't make a move. So yeah, I want to see him and I want an explanation.”

Sam bit his lip a little. “And if you don't like the explanation?”

You held each other's gaze.

“I've known it was going to be a demon since Lucifer told me Sam,” You said quietly. “So I've known this was coming sooner or later. I knew it was going to be something that I would have to deal with, even if it did look ridiculously slim recently.”

Sam nods slowly. “Alright. Only if you're sure?”

“If you're asking if it's my dream scenario then obviously not.” You laughed, which led to a coughing fit, your face scrunching up in pain for a moment as you fought to get your breath back. “I think this has been skirted around long enough.”

He hesitates. “So…you killed demons even knowing that one of them was…”

“It was a risk I had to take Sam,” You said quietly. “When your life is on the line, there’s really little else you think about, even those so called important things.”

Sam, still looking unsure, nods and leaves, letting you rest for a moment, closing your eyes so you could still focus on breathing and wincing at the deep breathes as you felt your ribs protest.

“Are you alright love?”

You jumped, having not expected someone so quickly and not hearing anyone come in, leading to a loud curse as pain flared through you and forcing you to fight for air again.

A pair of hands were keeping you steady as you breathed.

“Bloody Winchester’s…” Crowley was growling. “If Dean had just let me go, I could've walked in, but he had to be-“

“A stubborn pain in the arse?” You wheezed through the pain, your eyes still closed. “He's good at that.”

Crowley gave a small laugh. “Are you alright?”

You nod slowly, carefully opening your eyes but purposefully staring at the bed. “I'll manage.”

His hands left you cautiously and you saw him take half a step back. “Well, my apologies darling, that had not been my intention.”

You sighed, letting yourself relax a little, still getting no threat from him, making your heart race in a different way. “Just be glad I didn't have a weapon on me, especially my demon knife. It would've been more awkward than what it already is.”

There was a moment's pause, something you realised was hesitation. “I can understand if you do not wish to look Y/N. This must be hard to come to terms with.”

“Yes and no.” You sighed, examining your hands, mostly to fill for time. “I can't imagine you're feeling any better?”

“No.” He said simply. “It'll mean a lot more trouble for me if it's true, especially from the demons, I can’t see them taking too kindly to it, but, I'll manage.”

You smiled at this. “Seems about all I've been ever doing, guess I shouldn't have expected this to be any different.”

“Y/N-” But before he could say anything, you looked at him.

Colour flooded through your vision, although muted still, and Crowley visibly swallowed, sitting quickly in the chair next to your bed, dragging it over.

“Well, I'll be damned,” He said quietly, clearly in awe. “A hunter.”

“A demon.” You returned, giving a small smile.

Crowley's eyes travelled to the necklace that you'd quickly returned to your neck, standing out against the white of the gown. “You've been seeing red?”

“Yeah, unfortunately not always in pleasant ways.” You looked away for a moment, feeling a little ridiculous, but Crowley caught your chin and brought you back.

“Does this help?” He asked, letting his eyes shift to red, something that took you a little by surprise, and full colour blossomed in your vision, making you draw in a sharp breath, it almost feeling painful, your eyes watering and having to blink several times to clear the sting.

His eyes returning to normal, his eyes flickering over your damaged eye as he wipes away the tear that had escaped. “Well, I can't leave you like this now, can I? It wouldn’t be a very good first impression.”

Without warning, he lent forward and kissed you, a small squeak leaving you, even as your body naturally reacted, eyes closing and following, it feeling more than right.

Warmth flooded your body, something you normally would've shied away from, but somehow you knew that this was only a good thing.

Crowley rests his forehead against yours, his voice quiet. “Better?”

You were breathing easier and you cautiously opened your eyes, sight feeling strange being returned to your once damaged eye. “You can do that?”

Crowley sat back and shrugged, smiling. “Normally not without the selling if a soul, but for you, I will make any exception.”

“Well, I'd hope I'd be worth more than ten years anyway.” You said, looking to yourself and the bandages you were wrapped in.

Crowley stared at you as you began unwrapping them, taking a moment to see your smirk, making him chuckle. “Oh, you are mine now love. There isn't anything letting you get away from that.”

You send him a proper grin, before your expression falls a little, becoming serious. “Not going to stop people trying though. Demons and angels alike.”

“Well, you are fond of killing demons,” He said. “And I'm fond of killing the intervening little fairies. I think we'll be fine. Certainly end up with some stories to tell.”

You laughed, and it felt like so long since you'd properly done it that you held your sides to control it. “Oh, I’m sure, especially if rumours about you are true.” He raises an eyebrow to this, but watches as you swing yourself around on the bed. “Well, one thing I'm not dealing with is explaining this to the doctors.”

Crowley smiles and nods, taking your hand to help you off the bed, placing a quick kiss to the back of it. “Or dealing with Moose and Squirrel. Let's find somewhere comfortable to chat shall we?”

“It’s a date.” You wince a little as your feet hit the ground, your legs shaky. “If you think you can handle me.”

Crowley chuckled. “Trust me love, I think I've seen enough in my time to know how to handle you, baggage or otherwise.”

You blushed but grinned. “I'll believe it when I see it Crowley. I'm far from perfect.”

“And I'm the King if Hell Y/N,” He holds you close, brushing your hair from your face. “We each have own problems.”

Brushing your lips against his, something brighter suddenly in sight and you smiled as he pulled you closer, before the two of you vanished just as Sam and Dean came into the room.

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