"He's through here," Gunn told Bobby as he led the man to the archive where, yes, they kept the King of Hell chained up.
"You'd think you'd at least close the door," Bobby mentioned. Having him so easily accessible seemed like a terrible idea, never mind the warding. Anything that put him within talking distance was dangerous. Especially because he could tell just from looking at Gunn when they got closer to Aleister that hatred was bubbling very close to the surface. Such easily manipulated emotions near the puppet master? Almost making it too easy for him.
"Those cabinets pull shut," Gunn explained, before stopping in the room just outside the devil trap and crossing his impressively buff arms, narrowed eyes focused on Aleister.
"Hey," Bobby said to Aleister. It had been a while since they'd had any dealings. "How's it going?"
"Hey, Bobby. Long time, no see. I'd come over and say hello but I'm a little tied up." Aleister gestured to the shackles idly and then looked from Bobby to Gunn with an amused little smile. Ah, his favourite two. Well, one of two. "I've been getting kinky with the boys all week and then they leave me high and dry. Well, I'm not complaining with the back-up crew."
Between his long-standing 'love affair' with Bobby and the way Gunn flexed those beautiful arms, he honestly felt spoilt for choice.
"No Wes today? Shame. Is he busy as in 'lots to do on the tablets' or busy as in 'my shoelaces are talking to me about destiny'?" Always good to know the crazy levels currently going on, it helped to read the tone of the room.
"Don't fucking talk about Wes, you fucker," Gunn told him politely, keeping his arms crossed but visibly tensing ever more. Bobby put a hand on his shoulder briefly, hoping it would relax him a little. Didn't look like it.
He stepped closer, shrugging. "I don't mind, we can say hello from a distance. See, they told me you're hard to crack. I think they're idjits." Also, why did they want a random list of names from him? Quite the waste of a King of Hell, as Bobby had yelled at them about. He turned to look at Gunn. "You can leave, if you want."
Gunn hesitated, his eyes still on the demon. "You can't trust him."
"Oh, Charles acts like he hates me but he likes to come and check on me all the time. I honestly think he's into it." Aleister knew Bobby had come to probably set things on an actual path and as annoying and likely effective as that all was, it wasn't quite as fun as this had been. Just three straight weeks of darkness and trolling idiots through a door. "I mean, given the guilt complex and the years of repression, I think it's okay to just go for it. Honestly, I do. Get kinky with the prophet of the lord."
Why not? He shrugged and then looked at Bobby. "Let be real - he was a public school boy with daddy issues. We all know where that tends to end."
Kinky playtimes and a lot of yes, sir and riding crops.
"I'll be fine, kid. Come on, get lost." Bobby said it in a tone that belied some gentleness, even as he gave Gunn a shove. Better for him to keep Wes company anyway, he had seemed a little agitated before.
Gunn gave a nod, spared another glare Aleister's way and then stalked off.
Bobby listened to him slam the door and then he considered the demon, shaking his head. "You really like getting under their skin. They're idjits to let you."
"I agree but they make it so easy and I'm bored so... can you really blame me? They have their loud, angst conversations in the storage room a lot. You'd think they'd shut a door or not go into the room next to this one for it." He just felt that was common sense of having someone as a hostage and not wanting them to know every detail and vulnerability.
"So - do you also want a list? What do you with the list? Go through the phonebook? Cause it's the 21st century and most people aren't in it." Aleister felt the need to point out how stupid the plan Sam and Matty had was. He already assumed Bobby thought it was too so perhaps he was willing to join him in a bit of a bitching session.
"Those two are exceptionally challenged in the brain department."
"Yeah, I ain't sure what they thought up there. Not the brightest move for two boys who go by a different code name every week." Bobby shrugged and then shook his head. "No, I ain't after a list. Really you're just here cause it'd be more trouble lettin' you go. Ain't a good move to let go of an ace too early in the game."
And at least his boys had learned this much, even if they had no idea what to do with that ace. It was like they were playing UNO. Or some other unrelated game that seemed to run mostly on dumb ideas.
"They're still afraid you're playin' them somehow. They don't see you like I do."
"Of course I'm still playing them but it's a bit... cruder. I don't have my usual methods, being stuck here." He was getting bored, he was uncomfortable as hell and he was so sick of the dark room and the comfortable chair. The last fun he had was Moose's blood and that had been over a week ago. Honestly, Bobby was a welcome change of pace.
"Enlighten me, Bobby - how do you see me?"
He looked up at him and smiled lightly, raising on eyebrow and hoping it was glowing, romantic, perhaps even a little playful. Or, honestly, deeply and painfully honestly, he had a weird urge to have Bobby insult him. Hate him. Trigger those ugly emotions he was riding high on lately.
"You're needy. Looking for validation." Bobby felt that was fairly obvious, he hadn't needed Sam's story for that. "That part I could've told you before Sam went on about your church confessions."
Although that did add some interesting dimensions. "Now he's got some humanity into you. Guess it figured that'd make you even needier."
Not surprising. "You were a drunk when you were last human. Never really got over that flaw, us humans. Addictive personality. Always chasin' somethin'."
It had been a stressful few days. Wes had almost gotten killed, Bobby had at first had no contacts with the boys and then too much, as it usually went, and it had all left him with very little free time. Usually he'd checked in with Aleister more frequently, made some little deals.
Now he had been neglecting him for a few, admittedly. But at least he'd left him with reading material.
He walked into the storage room and then pulled the two cabinets aside, so he could approach the King of Hell. "Hello."
He sat down in the chair opposite him and then he looked at Aleister. Really looked at him. Huh.
He looked at the ground. A book was there, opened, and Bobby had heard the sound of something being dropped after he had walked in. And then he looked at Aleister again and, yeah. Red-rimmed eyes, still looking a little glassy. "...Little Women made you cry?"
He put his foot on top of the book and yanked it under his chair but it was too late. Well. Balls. He couldn't help it! This stupid book was wrecking him.
With a sniff, he tried to play it cool, leaning back in his chair with what he hoped was a baffled expression and not an embarrassed on. "No." So there. "Just doing a little light reading - why?" Clearing his throat, he pushed the book further back. "Lovely visit, do show yourself out."
"Uh-huh. No shame in it. How far did you get into it? Made me cry too, back when." He didn't want to give any spoilers because there were some things that were sacred. Even when dealing with an absolute bastard of a demon.
"It ain't leaving you, huh? All that humanity." Needy still, as he'd originally analysed. "You get any of those other emotions or just the one? Just lonely sadness?" He'd call it pathetic, if he couldn't relate to it better than he wanted to. "Are you enjoyin' it? Bit of a rush, I bet."
"Beth isn't doing so hot." So he wasn't exactly at a great part, just entering into the soul crushing reality that good people just die sometimes. That used to tickle him, now it was like gut punch. A beautiful, addictive and oddly fun one too.
"I don't enjoy any of this. Feelings, they're just... they're a weakness. Never liked them as a man, don't like them as a demon." It was all guilt, misery and regret. So much regret. And frustration too. Nothing had changed since the last time he had feelings! Nothing. His life was still a hollow, loveless nightmare. It just sucked.
"Honestly, I'm mostly horny." Aleister lied as a last ditch attempt to change topics. "Wanna give me a hand?"
Bobby looked him up and down, mostly as he wondered at what his life had become. Not a way he had ever seen himself having to deal with demons. "In your dreams, darlin'. You ain't exactly my type. I'm not down with the evil."
Setting everything else aside. "Anyway, your heart ain't even in it. You've hit on me way better in the past. Too sad to whore yourself out?"
He hated this. He had nowhere to put any of his feelings and he'd honestly rather be left alone with his books. Whenever Bobby was herez it was just a confusing mess of irritating emotions.
"My loss, I'm sure. Losing out on my chance at an over the hill red-neck. Tragic." Aleister drawled as he leaned back, trying his best to not enjoy the weird spark of joy this gave him. Rejection. Disappointment. Familiar feelings but no less painful. He was used to it, it was like coming home and he supposed it was nostalgia that fueled him.
He knew why he wasn't loved. He was unlovable. A dick. And he deserved this. All of this. "I guess your type is whatever girl is willing to touch you down there. And we all know you're not a big demon kind of guy. Given your whole 'shoot my wife' thing." He snorted. "Now there was a whoopsie."
"Yeah, no. I ain't ever come back from that. Haven't had anyone touch me anywhere below the belt since." Bobby would have normally not engaged in any mention of Karen at all, yet something was making him play ball. Maybe because he wanted to draw more emotions out of Aleister, to whatever end, and he simply didn't think it was happening without giving something in turn.
It was how it always worked with Aleister. Tit for tat. "Sad thing though, ain't it? Cause you're a charmin' bastard, you got the looks, got the words and the accent, nice voice. Anyone turnin' you down, you just know it's personal."
"I don't get turned down often, it's not hard to pull, it's just not worth it." He could get his fair share when he wanted to but he didn't really need one night stands. They weren't hard, they were almost dime a dozen. The tricky thing was anyone who actually wanted him. That hadn't happened... ever. Even his wife just settled, honestly.
"Love is for mortals, it's a pointless little weakness that's only worth it if you're on limited time." What did a demon need with love? It was just a waste of time. "If I wanted to invest in worthless novelties, I'd sooner indulge in orgies than love."
It was strange right now. Matty was off by himself, which really meant that he was with Castiel. He got it. They'd been through a lot recently and they had to do their thing to make sure they were both okay and okay with each other and whatever that even meant. They had to ponder their profound bond. Whatever kind of no homo bullshit Sam was supposed to buy into here, it meant that Matty went off on some hunt alone, assuring Sam he could handle it, and Sam was left behind.
Didn't feel so different from being a child.
He was staying at the bunker, but things were weird there too. Wes and Gunn were weird by definition, as any prophet was bound to be, and Bobby and Aleister, who was still their captive, they were playing cards. Or chatting. Or doing whatever else that he didn't even know how to understand. Doing something where Sam belonged as little as he did with Castiel and Matty right now.
So he went off by himself and ended up in a bar. He hadn't expected to see that familiar hairstyle, the expensive hipster clothes and the narrow frame. He hadn't expected it, but he was a hunter through and through. The moment he recognised the demon that had once been his closest - for a time his only - friend, Sam turned back around. He found the back exit and drew a devil trap right there.
That done, he walked back around. He walked into the bar all the way this time, which meant there was no way he could be missed. He pretended not to notice Harry and he ordered a beer that he wasn't sure he'd end up drinking.
Harry was drinking his redbull and coke, looking around the bar to see what targets he could get to go home with him. He was deceptively strong and good at convincing people to give him what he needed - the more souls he got, the more he was in the in-crowd. Which these days had shifted. Aleister was gone, maybe forever, and Abaddon was new IT girl. And he liked the cruelty used to obtain the souls over the actual metric.
It made it more work but he was fine with that. More souls, less problems.
As he looked around for his targets, his eyes found Sam Tenaz. Fuck. Yeah, no, he was not spoiling for a fight with that angry, giant ape-man.
He knocked back his drink, set the glass down and exited as swiftly as he could. He was in such a damn rush to get out of dodgy, he didn't realise he walked right into the demon trap. Harry looked around and then looked up at the sky, exhaling in frustration. "Fuck you, you annoying fucker."
As the barman had been swift, Sam had actually had the time to pay for his beer before walking out. He went out the front door and walked around, stocking up on some kit before stopping by the devil trap.
He held the beer bottle and took a sip while he looked Harry over. It was interesting that right now he was feeling less hot anger. Maybe a certain cold rage that was difficult to distinguish from sadness. Depression was one hell of a demon. His lips quirked a little at his own thought, then he finally addressed the demon in his trap. "Hey, shit-heel."
It was still strange. Even after Ruby, after so much, it was still strange to look at someone he knew so well and know they just weren't who they looked like. "Picked the wrong bar, huh?"
This was not at all ideal and if he had known Sam was in town, he would be across the country in a far flung state by now. He didn't like to poke the bear, especially not since the bear had learned the full story. He selling of the soul, the spying, being dragged to hell - he had tried to explain to Sam last time that Harry was a weak loser who deserved what he got but Sam didn't listen.
It was righteous, pointless revenge for a sad sack loser who was dying anyway. "Come on, you and I both know that this is a waste of our times. You can kill me but it doesn't change anything. It doesn't bring Jess back. Doesn't bring Harry back either." He smirked and shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, Tenaz, stop pouting. Just turn the other way, yeah? I'll do the same."
"I'm a Tenaz. I kill monsters. It's the family business." Sam cracked a smile and then finished his beer, setting the bottle aside. Right by the glass recycling, or at least by where this place was putting their glass waste. He was a responsible man, even while he was a cynical ass. "What else am I going to do? Write a term paper?"
He scoffed and then pulled out the handcuffs he had gotten out of the car before, sliding them over into the devil's trap so they landed by Harry's feet. By the feet of the demon that wore Harry, anyway.
"Put these on and you'll get a chance to live." He held his demon-killing blade in his hand and assumed that made his threat complete for him.
"Huh. Kinky. I didn't peg you for that sort, given you were always so vanilla. Remember when you asked me about how to go about your first time?" Sam had confined a lot of things in Harry, before and after he was a demon, and Harry still had full memory of every single interact. 100 years in hell did nothing to displace those memories. "Oh, the blushing virgin, afraid of hurting his girlfriend. It's funny how you were more concerned with hurting her than pleasing her. Says a lot about you, doesn't it?"
He picked up the cuffs and debated what was worth doing but one thing that continued with him through everything was that deep desire to survive. So he reluctantly put them on and closed them up, holding them up to Sam.
"Maybe you always knew that deep down, you're not so different from us." Lucifer's vessel. Demon blood. The boy king of hell. It was all very funny.
"Maybe. I'd killed before I'd ever gotten as far as kissing a girl, bound to warp you." Sam spat on the ground, using that and his foot to break the devil trap. Then he grabbed one of Harry's wrists and pulled him along, heading towards his car. He didn't really have a plan yet, but he was filled with a certain calm for whatever reason. Probably not for a good reason.
It made his chest seize to remember the way he had confided in Harry back then. It might have been before he'd turned demon, but now the memories were there, to be made a mockery of like everything else his life could have ever been. "I am different from you though. You're just a lackey demon. You only exist because of me. Nothing special about you."
He opened the passenger side of the car and grabbed the back of Harry's head so he could get him inside.
"I was higher up until someone sabotaged me with Aleister. I can't tell you how happy I am you've put that old dog down." Or, at least, he sincerely hoped he had. Aleister turned a blind eye to him but he didn't like him. He was a Lucifer loyalist in the end, most demons were. They didn't need a crossroads demon bossing them around.
He got into the back of the car, sighing in annoyance. What on Earth was Sam playing at? What was the game here? Nothing could be accomplished from this?
"If you think I have an in with Abaddon, I don't. I got nothing for you." He had no intel that the boys didn't already know. "Where's big bro? Aren't you two attached at the hip these days?"
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waywarddone2024-09-25 02:16 pm
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"You'd think you'd at least close the door," Bobby mentioned. Having him so easily accessible seemed like a terrible idea, never mind the warding. Anything that put him within talking distance was dangerous. Especially because he could tell just from looking at Gunn when they got closer to Aleister that hatred was bubbling very close to the surface. Such easily manipulated emotions near the puppet master? Almost making it too easy for him.
"Those cabinets pull shut," Gunn explained, before stopping in the room just outside the devil trap and crossing his impressively buff arms, narrowed eyes focused on Aleister.
"Hey," Bobby said to Aleister. It had been a while since they'd had any dealings. "How's it going?"
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Between his long-standing 'love affair' with Bobby and the way Gunn flexed those beautiful arms, he honestly felt spoilt for choice.
"No Wes today? Shame. Is he busy as in 'lots to do on the tablets' or busy as in 'my shoelaces are talking to me about destiny'?" Always good to know the crazy levels currently going on, it helped to read the tone of the room.
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He stepped closer, shrugging. "I don't mind, we can say hello from a distance. See, they told me you're hard to crack. I think they're idjits." Also, why did they want a random list of names from him? Quite the waste of a King of Hell, as Bobby had yelled at them about. He turned to look at Gunn. "You can leave, if you want."
Gunn hesitated, his eyes still on the demon. "You can't trust him."
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Why not? He shrugged and then looked at Bobby. "Let be real - he was a public school boy with daddy issues. We all know where that tends to end."
Kinky playtimes and a lot of yes, sir and riding crops.
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Gunn gave a nod, spared another glare Aleister's way and then stalked off.
Bobby listened to him slam the door and then he considered the demon, shaking his head. "You really like getting under their skin. They're idjits to let you."
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"So - do you also want a list? What do you with the list? Go through the phonebook? Cause it's the 21st century and most people aren't in it." Aleister felt the need to point out how stupid the plan Sam and Matty had was. He already assumed Bobby thought it was too so perhaps he was willing to join him in a bit of a bitching session.
"Those two are exceptionally challenged in the brain department."
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And at least his boys had learned this much, even if they had no idea what to do with that ace. It was like they were playing UNO. Or some other unrelated game that seemed to run mostly on dumb ideas.
"They're still afraid you're playin' them somehow. They don't see you like I do."
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"Enlighten me, Bobby - how do you see me?"
He looked up at him and smiled lightly, raising on eyebrow and hoping it was glowing, romantic, perhaps even a little playful. Or, honestly, deeply and painfully honestly, he had a weird urge to have Bobby insult him. Hate him. Trigger those ugly emotions he was riding high on lately.
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Although that did add some interesting dimensions. "Now he's got some humanity into you. Guess it figured that'd make you even needier."
Not surprising. "You were a drunk when you were last human. Never really got over that flaw, us humans. Addictive personality. Always chasin' somethin'."
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Now he had been neglecting him for a few, admittedly. But at least he'd left him with reading material.
He walked into the storage room and then pulled the two cabinets aside, so he could approach the King of Hell. "Hello."
He sat down in the chair opposite him and then he looked at Aleister. Really looked at him. Huh.
He looked at the ground. A book was there, opened, and Bobby had heard the sound of something being dropped after he had walked in. And then he looked at Aleister again and, yeah. Red-rimmed eyes, still looking a little glassy. "...Little Women made you cry?"
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He put his foot on top of the book and yanked it under his chair but it was too late. Well. Balls. He couldn't help it! This stupid book was wrecking him.
With a sniff, he tried to play it cool, leaning back in his chair with what he hoped was a baffled expression and not an embarrassed on. "No." So there. "Just doing a little light reading - why?" Clearing his throat, he pushed the book further back. "Lovely visit, do show yourself out."
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"It ain't leaving you, huh? All that humanity." Needy still, as he'd originally analysed. "You get any of those other emotions or just the one? Just lonely sadness?" He'd call it pathetic, if he couldn't relate to it better than he wanted to. "Are you enjoyin' it? Bit of a rush, I bet."
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"I don't enjoy any of this. Feelings, they're just... they're a weakness. Never liked them as a man, don't like them as a demon." It was all guilt, misery and regret. So much regret. And frustration too. Nothing had changed since the last time he had feelings! Nothing. His life was still a hollow, loveless nightmare. It just sucked.
"Honestly, I'm mostly horny." Aleister lied as a last ditch attempt to change topics. "Wanna give me a hand?"
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Setting everything else aside. "Anyway, your heart ain't even in it. You've hit on me way better in the past. Too sad to whore yourself out?"
Seemed like the obvious conclusion to draw here.
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"My loss, I'm sure. Losing out on my chance at an over the hill red-neck. Tragic." Aleister drawled as he leaned back, trying his best to not enjoy the weird spark of joy this gave him. Rejection. Disappointment. Familiar feelings but no less painful. He was used to it, it was like coming home and he supposed it was nostalgia that fueled him.
He knew why he wasn't loved. He was unlovable. A dick. And he deserved this. All of this. "I guess your type is whatever girl is willing to touch you down there. And we all know you're not a big demon kind of guy. Given your whole 'shoot my wife' thing." He snorted. "Now there was a whoopsie."
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It was how it always worked with Aleister. Tit for tat. "Sad thing though, ain't it? Cause you're a charmin' bastard, you got the looks, got the words and the accent, nice voice. Anyone turnin' you down, you just know it's personal."
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"Love is for mortals, it's a pointless little weakness that's only worth it if you're on limited time." What did a demon need with love? It was just a waste of time. "If I wanted to invest in worthless novelties, I'd sooner indulge in orgies than love."
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Didn't feel so different from being a child.
He was staying at the bunker, but things were weird there too. Wes and Gunn were weird by definition, as any prophet was bound to be, and Bobby and Aleister, who was still their captive, they were playing cards. Or chatting. Or doing whatever else that he didn't even know how to understand. Doing something where Sam belonged as little as he did with Castiel and Matty right now.
So he went off by himself and ended up in a bar. He hadn't expected to see that familiar hairstyle, the expensive hipster clothes and the narrow frame. He hadn't expected it, but he was a hunter through and through. The moment he recognised the demon that had once been his closest - for a time his only - friend, Sam turned back around. He found the back exit and drew a devil trap right there.
That done, he walked back around. He walked into the bar all the way this time, which meant there was no way he could be missed. He pretended not to notice Harry and he ordered a beer that he wasn't sure he'd end up drinking.
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It made it more work but he was fine with that. More souls, less problems.
As he looked around for his targets, his eyes found Sam Tenaz. Fuck. Yeah, no, he was not spoiling for a fight with that angry, giant ape-man.
He knocked back his drink, set the glass down and exited as swiftly as he could. He was in such a damn rush to get out of dodgy, he didn't realise he walked right into the demon trap. Harry looked around and then looked up at the sky, exhaling in frustration. "Fuck you, you annoying fucker."
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He held the beer bottle and took a sip while he looked Harry over. It was interesting that right now he was feeling less hot anger. Maybe a certain cold rage that was difficult to distinguish from sadness. Depression was one hell of a demon. His lips quirked a little at his own thought, then he finally addressed the demon in his trap. "Hey, shit-heel."
It was still strange. Even after Ruby, after so much, it was still strange to look at someone he knew so well and know they just weren't who they looked like. "Picked the wrong bar, huh?"
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This was not at all ideal and if he had known Sam was in town, he would be across the country in a far flung state by now. He didn't like to poke the bear, especially not since the bear had learned the full story. He selling of the soul, the spying, being dragged to hell - he had tried to explain to Sam last time that Harry was a weak loser who deserved what he got but Sam didn't listen.
It was righteous, pointless revenge for a sad sack loser who was dying anyway. "Come on, you and I both know that this is a waste of our times. You can kill me but it doesn't change anything. It doesn't bring Jess back. Doesn't bring Harry back either." He smirked and shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, Tenaz, stop pouting. Just turn the other way, yeah? I'll do the same."
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He scoffed and then pulled out the handcuffs he had gotten out of the car before, sliding them over into the devil's trap so they landed by Harry's feet. By the feet of the demon that wore Harry, anyway.
"Put these on and you'll get a chance to live." He held his demon-killing blade in his hand and assumed that made his threat complete for him.
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He picked up the cuffs and debated what was worth doing but one thing that continued with him through everything was that deep desire to survive. So he reluctantly put them on and closed them up, holding them up to Sam.
"Maybe you always knew that deep down, you're not so different from us." Lucifer's vessel. Demon blood. The boy king of hell. It was all very funny.
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It made his chest seize to remember the way he had confided in Harry back then. It might have been before he'd turned demon, but now the memories were there, to be made a mockery of like everything else his life could have ever been. "I am different from you though. You're just a lackey demon. You only exist because of me. Nothing special about you."
He opened the passenger side of the car and grabbed the back of Harry's head so he could get him inside.
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He got into the back of the car, sighing in annoyance. What on Earth was Sam playing at? What was the game here? Nothing could be accomplished from this?
"If you think I have an in with Abaddon, I don't. I got nothing for you." He had no intel that the boys didn't already know. "Where's big bro? Aren't you two attached at the hip these days?"
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