Author’s Notes: Hello everyone! I’m here with another Bang submission and this time it’s for the Crowley Big Bang! I’d like to thank iamalekstraordinary for their art which prompted this story! And dmsilvisart for creating the header!
I hope you all enjoy!
…I forgot to mention. To celebrate 300 subscribers I will be writing a story (go figure), only this one will be an AU (I might put another poll up on my Twitter when it gets closer on which AU) SABRIEL!
A special thank you to QueenOfHearts who took the time to edit this story! You’re a lifesaver!
Now on to the story 😊
When he first began his rise to power, Crowley had wanted nothing more than to prove that he was the best at what he did, to be able to command those under him to do the grunt work he hated so much. Then his goal was to get out from under Lilith’s thumb. It took several decades of work, a lot of planning, and an apocalypse, but eventually, Crowley reached beyond even his goals. Now after years of careful planning, he was finally able to claim the title of King of Hell as his own.
Claiming the crown was only half the battle. The rest was in keeping it. Sure, there were a few demons who were loyal, he knew them from when they were on the racks together, some he had managed to free from their torment in exchange for their loyalty. Others liked the new way of Hell, how they didn’t have to work nearly as hard as they had before, yet the place seemed to thrive more than ever. But there would always be some who wanted the throne themselves or the old-fashioned loyalists who believed Lucifer was the only true king.
It was a political game. He had to work hard at finding the traitors and even harder at punishing them in such a way that it would cause future ones to pause. Thankfully, his mother had taught him well. It wasn’t good enough to kill your oppressors, but to humiliate them beforehand, to make them weep in shame before cutting off their heads. Humming, Crowley lifted the long scroll he was handed and began the weekly task of going through the list of names for those who had entered the racks.
His system was simple. Those who found their way to Hell naturally were put in an endless line, waiting to get to the end only to go right back to the beginning. For those who sold their souls, they were put on the racks. It gave the demons who needed to blow off some steam a place to go that wouldn’t upset the delicate balance Crowley had with the Winchesters. Having them on the payroll, so to speak, was one of his largest footholds in keeping his status. So long as he kept the demons doing their jobs without going off and terrorizing humans, the Winchesters seemed receptive to his suggestions when needed.
Glancing around the room and only finding Brier, Crowley allowed a sigh to slip past his lips before glancing down the scroll. Becoming King involved a lot more paperwork than Crowley had imagined. Thankfully, his time spent as a crossroads demon came in handy and he was able to speed through most of the paperwork without any trouble. Glancing through the list of names and reasons for the descent into Hell, Crowley came up short on one name. He knew that man, could still remember the press of his lips and the smell of whiskey on his breath.
It hadn’t been his best kiss; being a crossroads demon had its perks, which included an extensive list of ‘best kisses’. While lacking in some technique, there had been something there, a spark which was so rare Crowley had taken out his phone to snap a picture of the moment. Seeing his name didn’t make sense. While no saint, Robert Singer was a man who deserved Heaven. Glancing at the summary of why he was in Hell, Crowley’s eyes widened, one of the few signs of surprise he allowed himself while in Hell. Robert Singer was thrown from Heaven for treason. Treason. Leaning back, Crowley rubbed his temples for a moment, the scroll sitting on his lap while he tried to think of what to do. The sensation of whiskers against his cheek flashed through Crowley’s mind. It had only been a handful of seconds, ones where they sealed the deal. It should have been like any other deal he made, a quick peck and done, but Robert had surged forward, his loneliness making itself known.
The kiss shouldn’t have meant anything, but no matter how many years passed, Crowley couldn’t get it out of his mind. The rest of the document didn’t matter; all that he could see was that one name calling out to him, and while he knew it would cost him in the end, Crowley couldn’t let the other man remain where he was. The reports were given monthly. Robert had already been with his demons for a month in Hell-time and he wouldn’t be there for a second more.
Rising from his seat, Crowley didn’t wait to see if he was followed as he made his way outside the throne room and to the racks. It wasn’t often he visited the place any longer. Unlike the never-ending line this was the one area he didn’t have to manage because demons did it for him. Going through room after room, Crowley eventually made his way to the new arrivals. There was a demon flaying the soul next to Bobby’s. If they knew exactly who they had on the rack they would have destroyed him by now. Thankfully only Crowley was given the list of names. Robert Singer had made more than one enemy down in the pit.
“That one, I want him brought to my chambers. He is to be a bargaining chip so it would do well for you to bring him unharmed.” The demons in the area worked quickly to bring Robert down from the rack, his soul screaming as the hooks were released from his back and rough hands held him up. It hurt. Watching Robert cry out, to see him so wounded and nearly broken hurt something inside him. Brier was the one to hook Robert’s arm around his shoulder, wincing at the scream while shooting Crowley a concerned look.
It wasn't that they were worried about causing the soul more damage, but Crowley had become unpredictable when people mishandled his things. Leading the way to his chambers, Crowley had to think quickly. Even if he claimed to have Robert as a hostage, there was only so much he could do for the man without losing what little respect he had gained from his underlings. Still, he couldn’t leave the man to the racks. They may not have gotten along more than a handful of times, but Robert deserved better than that.
Opening the large wooden doors to his bedroom, Crowley waved his hand toward the bed, the two demons who had been carrying Robert laying the soul down on his stomach as not to aggravate the wounds on his back. “Leave us.” The command was followed, his voice firm until the large doors were shut. A mutter under his breath and Crowley locked the doors so that none could enter. It took several minutes to gather the supplies needed, though everything was in his room. It was fortunate that he kept a large medical supply handy in case he was wounded as he couldn’t trust those who worked for him.
Bringing a warm bowl of water and a clean rag Crowley sat at the very edge of the bed. The weight caused Robert to moan in pain at the slight shift. With a tender touch, Crowley began the daunting task of cleaning the wounds on his back. Keeping his touch gentle to cause as little pain as possible Crowley went to work stitching and applying a healing salve when needed to the torn and flayed skin. It would take time for the man to heal, time he didn’t think they had. Once the wounds on Robert’s back was clean, Crowley sighed before running his hands through the unwashed hair, his fingers undoing tangles and cleaning out dirt and blood.
“Kicked out of Heaven, Robert? What exactly did those boys ask for you to do?” There was no response, not that Crowley expected one. Leaning forward, the King of Hell placed a soft kiss to the back of Robert’s neck, his lips barely brushing the skin before pulling back. “Sleep. We’ll start on healing your front tomorrow.” After checking the temperature and leaving a glass of water beside Robert’s head, Crowley straightened his clothing and left the bedroom, locking it with yet another spell to keep Robert safe before leaving his chambers. He had a lot of work to do if he was going to help the former hunter heal. Hell was not an infirmary.