Out of Time
ex tempore
Hello, boys.
It hardly seemed like it had only been a few years since Crowley had spoken those words to the Winchester brothers, cocky smirk painted across his palid face, green eyes gleaming with mischief. Well, maybe not only a few years, but after nearly three hundred years of life it didn't seem so long ago. With an exhale, the crossroads demon walked across the room, taking a seat in front of the fireplace on the far wall of Sam and Dean's hotel room. It had been a few hours since the embers had been stoked, and with each passing second, the flicker of flame on burnt logs became dimmer and dimmer. It wouldn't be long now until the fire was gone.
He too was dying.
It was a slow death, granted. Like the fire. In fact, his entire life had been like a fire. He'd started out little more than an ember but as time had went on and on (and on and on) he'd grown in strength until he'd become one of the most powerful demons in Hell. At his prime, he'd been a fearsome thing, his humanity a thing of the past. He'd thought nothing of killing, of torture - of pain. But now, as he neared the end, he was becoming tired and with that exhaustion came the memories of humanity and all the things he'd missed over the years and his life was little more than a smoldering fire, the only memory of the blaze a trail of smoke in the air.
His eyes flickered down to the letter held in his fingertips and a frown formed on his lips. Funny how that humanity had come back to him after all this time. He'd written this as a sort of...well, he didn't really know. A goodbye, maybe. For the only friend he had left in the world. Dean's features flashed in his mind and he smiled before the frown returned when he realized that the eldest Winchester had no idea this was happening. They'd had a tumultuous relationship, with more downs than ups, but through it all, Dean had been a constant in his life for the last several years.
He wondered how Dean would take his death. Would he finally see that there was more to him than just his title as King of Hell? He was flesh and bone, just the same as Dean, capable of feelings and emotions. That more than any other was the reason he was doing this. He wanted Dean to finally see him for what he was - a living being no different than himself.
The fire finally died and Crowley stood, the envelope gripped tightly in his hand. He left it sitting on Dean's bed before exiting the room with a snap of his fingers. He wanted the last time he saw Dean to be when he killed Lucifer once and for all; not here, not like this. Not when he was a dead man walking. He wanted Dean to remember him as he had been alive - truly alive, not just the shell of what he'd become in the last few months.
It hardly seemed like it had only been a few years since Crowley had spoken those words to the Winchester brothers, cocky smirk painted across his palid face, green eyes gleaming with mischief. Well, maybe not only a few years, but after nearly three hundred years of life it didn't seem so long ago. With an exhale, the crossroads demon walked across the room, taking a seat in front of the fireplace on the far wall of Sam and Dean's hotel room. It had been a few hours since the embers had been stoked, and with each passing second, the flicker of flame on burnt logs became dimmer and dimmer. It wouldn't be long now until the fire was gone.
He too was dying.
It was a slow death, granted. Like the fire. In fact, his entire life had been like a fire. He'd started out little more than an ember but as time had went on and on (and on and on) he'd grown in strength until he'd become one of the most powerful demons in Hell. At his prime, he'd been a fearsome thing, his humanity a thing of the past. He'd thought nothing of killing, of torture - of pain. But now, as he neared the end, he was becoming tired and with that exhaustion came the memories of humanity and all the things he'd missed over the years and his life was little more than a smoldering fire, the only memory of the blaze a trail of smoke in the air.
His eyes flickered down to the letter held in his fingertips and a frown formed on his lips. Funny how that humanity had come back to him after all this time. He'd written this as a sort of...well, he didn't really know. A goodbye, maybe. For the only friend he had left in the world. Dean's features flashed in his mind and he smiled before the frown returned when he realized that the eldest Winchester had no idea this was happening. They'd had a tumultuous relationship, with more downs than ups, but through it all, Dean had been a constant in his life for the last several years.
He wondered how Dean would take his death. Would he finally see that there was more to him than just his title as King of Hell? He was flesh and bone, just the same as Dean, capable of feelings and emotions. That more than any other was the reason he was doing this. He wanted Dean to finally see him for what he was - a living being no different than himself.
The fire finally died and Crowley stood, the envelope gripped tightly in his hand. He left it sitting on Dean's bed before exiting the room with a snap of his fingers. He wanted the last time he saw Dean to be when he killed Lucifer once and for all; not here, not like this. Not when he was a dead man walking. He wanted Dean to remember him as he had been alive - truly alive, not just the shell of what he'd become in the last few months.