#in which crowley wants to build a bathtub and has no idea how to start

[evilasiangenius]

“Maybe it’s like a boat,” Crowley muttered to himself as he stood in the doorway of the bathhouse staring at the piles of wood. “Only on land, like the reverse of a boat? Do I know how to build a boat?”

The demon tapped his head; he enjoyed being on boats, he especially liked sailboats much more than galley boats, but in all this time of traveling on boats and even watching humans building them, the demon had never actually built one himself. For those times in ancient times when he had to cross water, he usually swam it as a snake or if it were a daunting distance, he would fly. But he hadn’t even built so much as a raft, much less a boat.

“Goodness, are you still at it?” Aziraphale came in to check up on what all the clattering of wooden boards and logs was about.

“Erm, maybe? Though I’m a bit stuck. I’ve never built a boat before.”

“…why. Why? Would you. Need to build a boat?”

“Isn’t that what a bathtub is? Like a boat, but in reverse. Where the water’s on the inside instead of the outside – oh is that what that whole stone boat thing was about? Was that supposed to be a big bathtub made from a mountaintop? Though it ended up on the bottom of the Nile. Not a very useful place to take a bath if it’s already underwater…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Demon.”

“Eh,” Crowley shrugged. “Never mind, not important. Ancient business. Quite literally.”

“First of all,” Aziraphale began, “to work with wood you’d need tools. A saw, a mallet. Charcoal or chalk to measure and mark the wood. Chisels, perhaps, if it were to be jointed. Hemp rope, probably, to use for measuring. But also thick hemp rope long enough to bind the entire tub all the way around. You’d need to dig a big shallow hole outside, get water, start a fire…” Aziraphale glanced at the materials at hand, moving boards and loose pieces of wood about, sorting them.

“…why would I need a hole?”

“The hole is to steam the wood, of course, to bend it into the right shape. Look, you have large enough boards for a base here. We could make it circular, about three cubits wide? Would that be long enough to sit down in? Build a circular or oval frame, shape the boards for the sides as if making a barrel. Lash it together with hemp rope. Give it a good sanding so that the interior is smooth and there are no splinters.

“Then we transfer it outside. If we leave it out in the rain to soak, once it’s wet the wood will swell and make it watertight or at least watertight enough for our purposes. It doesn’t have to be perfectly sealed. I suppose the shipbuilding idea isn’t too bad of an idea, that is pretty much the principle of these things. If we wait long enough, the rain should fill the tub, and then we transfer the rainwater into the heating system, and pipe it back into the tub.”

“You obviously pay much better attention to human craftsmanship than I do.”

“I have been watching them for years.”

“I like watching them too, but the details escape me.” Crowley smiled. “What tools did you say you needed?”

“A saw, a mallet, perhaps some chisels…goodness, do not steal them, foul fiend. I don’t want you stealing. If you need money for these things–”

“Eh, don’t worry about me,” Crowley said. “I bet I could borrow some from friends.”

more

[hekate1308]

Aftermath

Yes, still going. Basically at this point I am fixing the universe. What can you do. 

Being himself again feels amazing.

The second the spell lifts is... indescribable. Finally able to take a step outside his room, finally his own master once more.

He didn’t expect his mother to let him go so easily. In return he lets her go. She’s too scared for her own hide to attempt to go against them now.

As soon as the warding’s down, he’s in front of the Men of Letter’s base, but finds they’ve strongly increased their protection.

Bollocks. He would have loved to tear them apart limb from limb.

He returns to the mansion to Dean reading him the riot act.

“The second the spell is lifted you just disappear?”

He wasn’t that fast, he could point out. After all he had time to send Mother on her way and... hug Dean.

Strange.

Strange, but not bad.

“I wanted to check on the Men of letters”.

“I’m guessing they fortified their security?” Cas asks.

He nods.

“Would have been too good to be true” Dean mumbles. “Don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving. Burgers, anyone?”

Dean knows he has a weakness for his cooking.

“I’ll get the beer. We have something to celebrate, alright” Sam decides.

“We gotta get Crowley up to speed anyway, might as well do it during dinner” Mick says in something that, while not quite yet a convincing American accent, makes it seem far less likely that he’ll storm into a Starbucks and demand a proper afternoon tea.

“You sure you’re from London?” Aaron asks.

Mick beams. “I’ve been training my accent so I can play fed if it’s necessary”.

“Wonderful. A + for effort, Peachfuzz. Can we leave the room now, please?”

“Sure” Dean says, leading the way. “I imagine you’re sick of these walls.”

“You have no idea”.

“By the way” Aaron asks while they’re walking to the dining room (he’s walking because he finally can again), “last night I wanted to go to the bathroom and ended up at the swimming pool.”

“There’s a lot of power running this place. Why do you think bedrooms keep showing up when we need them? It’s bound to glitch now and then.”

Aaron accepts the explanation as a matter of course.

“Makes for much less cleaning than in the bunker” Dean comments.

“Do you think Mary ever goes back there?”

“There’s nothing left. Crowley saw to that.”

Of course. Not a scrap left for these bastards.

“I like the feel of this place. It’s good” Matan says, still studying Crowley.

The hints are piling up that his soul is not as dark as it used to be. If he’s being honest, it’s rather confusing. He certainly feels like the same demon he always was. He just has... other priorities now.

And Dean’s burgers really are delicious, even if he really makes any excuse he can to cook them.

Not even Moose complains about there not being any salad to eat.

After their meal, they start calling on their allies, so they know he can finally be trusted again.

Well.

As much trusted as it gets, anyway. He is the King of Hell after all.

Speaking of which, he should perhaps go check everything’s well...

Mick hangs up the phone, his face glowing.

“Mel’s coming over.”

On the other hand, Hell can wait.

“Crowley! So good to see you out of that trap!”

“It is better than you having to be carried in a bathtub, mistress of the waves.”

“Oh, really, that was the fun part”.

“Speak for yourself” Dean grumbles, but even he is smiling at the wraith flitting around in their swimming pool.

“Hi Mick” she says casually. He does his best to disappear behind the golem.

“And who’s this?”

“Aaron and Matan, his golem”.

“You do have the most interesting guests.”

“It appears to come with the territory” Cas tells her, eyeing the pool.

“You are one to talk, Mr. angel.”

“Not anymore.”

“I’m sure Dean disagrees.”

“Guys, not that I’m not glad you are enjoying your banter, but there are still people who want to kill all of us” Aaron says.

“Sorry, he’s a bit tense because we didn’t call him...” Sam begins.

“Hello?” he gestures towards his golem.

“Wait” Mel asks, “are we going to literally tear them apart?”

“It would be easy” Aaron answers.

Crowley decides he can stay.

“Yes, but we’re not going for that. Sending the message that we destroy anyone who poses a threat... That’s how they worked for years. That’s how they got big in Britain. We won’t let that happen” Dean says firmly.

“What we’re building... the foundation of it not’s going to be fear”.

Fine by him. He should know best that fear as a method of subjugation only works up to a certain point.

He really should check what the demons have been doing while he’s been gone.

“How moving, Squirrel, but there are more phone calls we need to make. I would go tell our friends, but...”

“They can’t be sure you’re not still under the spell” Dean finishes. “True.”

“I’ll tell the nature spirits” Mel happily offers. “They will be relieved you are who you should be.”

There’s a meaning behind her words he understands only too well.

Still, he has to go to Hell.

“I’ll be back soon” he tells the room.

“Don’t let the demons bite” Dean calls out just as he vanishes.

It has been two months since he was placed under the spell. He hasn’t been here in... perhaps three? His sense of time is still acting up, probably because it was easier to just relax and go with the flow, so to speak, while he was waiting in his room.

Everything seems to be in order. No one appears to great him, but he’s got used to that. Other demons despise him, always have.

He’s still surprised at how Hell feels, though.

No matter how much he abhors the place ever since he was torn apart by hellhounds for his deal, it has always felt like he belongs here.

Because of course he does. Hell’s a demon’s home.

Only this...

God, he can’t wait to get out of here. Either it’s actually worse than he remembers, or he has forgotten just how bad Hell can be, how it tears everything apart, only leaving rage and hatred –

He’s back in his room at the mansion without having made a conscious effort to return to it.

That was... interesting.

He teleports to the library. Everyone’s either on the phone or using other ways of communication.

So the rabbi figured out the Hebrew communication spell. Crowley meant to ask him about that.

Aaron finishes his talk and turns around.

“Al is... really something”.

“That he is.”

“He says to tell you he’s glad he doesn’t have to lie anymore. And someone called Lizzie Hexam almost started to cry?”

“She’s a very affectionate lady.”

“I can tell.”

Aaron’s eyes wander over their little group.

“When Dean told me... I didn’t imagine things to have grown this... big”.

“The Winchesters really changed the landscape in the last two years” he agrees.

“Not them alone...” Aaron trails off. “You know, I was a little worried. When Dean said “King of Hell” I imagined Lucifer 2.0, not...”

“My amazing self. I know.”

Aaron’s next words still surprise him.

“If it wasn’t for the powers, I wouldn’t have guessed you’re a demon.”

That can’t be true, certainly. He is very demonic. He did have a lot of fun with Ketch, after all he was going after his –

Wait. That’s a reason he had fun doing all of that. He’s supposed to –

But no, he’s not. Because the boys wouldn’t like it.

By the time night arrives, he’s rather confused from the day’s events.

Maybe it’s just an after effect of the spell.

Wandering through the mansion, ensuring it’s still safe, he happens across Dean, who’s enjoying a nightcap in the library.

His first drink of the night, it appears.

“Hey, Crowley. Want a drink?”

“Always glad to join. Where’s the hubby?”

“Cas is already in bed. I’m not that tired.”

He pours him a glass of Craig.

“So you’re good?”

He nods.

“Thank God for that. Hunting’s not the same without you in the background being annoying”.

“I want to point out that I am also sarcastic and useful on the forefront.”

Dean chuckles.

“I know that.” He looks at him.

“Still, man. Good to see you out of that trap.”

After a pause he adds, “Missed you.”

He wouldn’t have admitted that a few years ago. But he already hugged him, so he probably figures it doesn’t matter.

“Naturally you did.”

“You are never going to change, aren’t you.”

“You think I haven’t?”

The sincerity of his question surprises.

Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Of course you have.”

Crowley looks away.

“So gonna tell me what this is about? It’s not Rowena, is it?”

He grimaces; that’s a subject for another day.

“No. She cast the spell, but she also set me free without being forced to. She can go and do what she wants. I don’t care.”

“Alright then, something else. Want to talk about it?”

“I hate Hell” he says simply.

“I’ve known that for years.”

“No. When I went there today... I absolutely loathe it. Can’t stand the place.”

He turns his head to find understanding in Dean’s eyes.

“When was the last time you did something really douchy anyway?” he asks abruptly.

Since he’s been wondering the same, he has finally found an answer.

“I blasted that shifter last week.”

“When it tried to strangle Mick. That’s hardly a demonic act.”

“There was Ketch.”

“Come on, every single one of us wanted to kill him. That doesn’t count.”

“You don’t know what I did to him.”

“And you seriously don’t think he did the same to others, even though he was human?”

“You’ve grown quite good at discussions” Crowley grinds out through his teeth.

“I’m not even sure what we’re really discussing anymore, so – “

“Do you still think I’m evil?” he interrupts him flatly.

Dean blinks. Takes a sip of his drink.

“You’ve certainly done enough evil deeds in your lifetime. Sammy told me you bragged about it.”

“And then I didn’t kill him.”

He was convinced back then that it was just a move to show his power, to torment Sam Winchester.

He’s not so sure anymore.

“Thanks for that, by the way. But I guess it... depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you want to be evil.”

That question was once so easy to answer, too.

“I...”

He stops.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. What do I know? I’ve been a demon, Sammy got close, Cas became God... There are more things in Heaven and earth...”

“Shakespeare, really?”

Dean shrugs.

“He was right about that, at least.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

And, side by side, the best hunter in the world and the first and only King of Hell who will end up renouncing his crown sit and enjoy the silence.