"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'."
Ah. Fuck. Sam told him about that? Rude. That was a personal moment between him and Sam, why was he going around telling people? Probably told about the blood too. Dink. "I was a little hopped up on my own impending destruction and a bunch of pure human blood - it's hardly fair to hold any of that against me!" He wasn't needy. He was a strong, independent king of hell that didn't need anyone.
Usually. Right now, he could use a few demons with a bolt cutter but that was besides the point.
"Oh Bobby, you think you know me so well and you have no clue." Why did Bobby know him so well? It was very irritating. And why didn't he know that Bobby would know? Clearly Bobby knew him better. Annoying. "I don't need any sort of validation."
"You want it. When you're all demon? Then you're lookin' for respect. Lookin' to make everyone dance to your tune. Makin' your puppets dance and oilin' all the cogs so that the machine runs just the way you like. When you're all demon, your heart may not be in it." No emotions and all that, he supposed that made it easier to deal with things with cold logic. "But you still wanna get recognised for it. Whinin' when them demons don't appreciate you."
He'd certainly heard him go on about that a lot. "But now you ain't all demon any more. Now it ain't just your megalomaniac lil mind caught up in it all. Got your mangled black heart in there as well. You ain't feelin' any need comin' from that right now?"
Bobby tilted his head to the side just a little. "Ah, darlin'. You been tellin' lies."
"I do love when you call me darling." Aleister shot back, annoyed but unsure what else to do to approach this whole mess. Yes, his shitty little black heart was back and nagging at him all the time. If he hadn't of shot himself up with that blood last week, it would be gone by now and it should be gone. Soon, it would all leave his body. He just had to hold out and keep his mind focused. "It's normal to complain when morons don't understand what you're doing and then get mad at you over it. I'm sure you have a world of experience."
After all, he worked with those two idiots.
"I don't-- there's no, well, it's temporary and it's not need. It's just ... uncomfortable." Like an itch that needed to be scratched. Honestly, sitting alone in the dark didn't help. A good way to be miserable, sure, but it lacked that connection. It lost something. "It's an inelegant feeling but it'll be gone shortly."
"Right. You sure you don't just need a good cry?" Bobby had to tease him a little, getting his satisfaction from being right about all this. It was usually how he got the feeling of appreciation, he certainly wasn't about to get it from the idjit hunters he worked with.
"I wonder what it's like. Couple hundred years of numbness and now you're back at it. Almost feelin' like you got a soul." Only almost. Obviously there wasn't actually a soul here. "You sure you ain't wonderin' how much you could feel if you let yourself?"
"I'd never!" He wasn't going to admit to crying, that would be as dumb as Sam and Gunn having an important conversation about him with the door wide open. Some people knew how to keep their cards to their chest. Some people were smarter than the average idiot - like him. And smart people didn't cry or admit to weakness. "There's no real feeling there. It's an illusion. I don't have a soul and -- and even if I did, it's not like I was the most feeling in life."
He was a bitter, numb drunken with no real interest in anyone or anything. He was never exactly precious over his soul or his 'heart'. "I think if I 'embraced my humanity' then I'd just end up craving scotch and sex. And I already crave those so what's the big difference."
"I don't know, I ain't ever been anything but human. But I can tell you that people who don't feel a lot don't become bitter drunks who sell their souls. That's the kinda stuff someone's driven to." And if it really had been over an extra few inches of penis, Bobby had some additional theories about that.
"Anyway. I hear there's a party down in hell. Some people really celebratin' that you're missin'. And so far they ain't exactly knocking in our doors lookin' for you either. Guess you ain't that popular, huh? Ungrateful demons?"
"Respectfully disagree." Was all Aleister offered as he tried to defend himself from Bobby's annoyingly perceptive observations. He didn't want to give the arsehole what he wanted so he kept a smile on his face, despite the unstoppable irritation and disappointment he had in his gut. Stupid, selfish, visionless demons. As if this was going to work. Like a Knight of Hell knew what hell needed. "Let them party. Have their turn. It'll turn into chaos so fast, they'll be eating each other, never mind anyone else."
It was like leaving a bunch of toddlers alone in a room full of candy. Seemed fun at first but structure and rules, all people craved them - whether they knew it or not. "Trust me, they'll be knocking down the doors any day now. They just don't know because the lines are jammed."
"Yeah, cause when the King of Hell is missin' it's such a goshdarn mystery who might have nabbed him." Bobby snorted and walked over, finally sitting down in a chair across from Aleister. "I don't disagree with you. I reckon no place can run on chaos. Not even hell. But they don't realise that yet, so you got no appreciation. Who knows, maybe the'll be yearnin' for your reign soon."
Evidently not yet. Hatred of Aleister seemed to run deep. "But until then, you're cosied up here and you're bored. Maybe I can help. You'd be grateful for any thrill, I reckon. Any hit."
"So I'm bored, you're bored and you think I'll just take any little thrill to kill the boredom and I'll be happy?" Aleister pretended to ponder that idea before exhaling a tired and annoyed sigh. "Doesn't sound much different to my last relationship."
And that was his wife, who's name he had scorched happily from his mind. Stupid, dumb bitch.
"Unless you're offering me a whiskey and some time out of those stupid contraption, we don't have much of a deal here." He wanted to move, to stretch, to drink away some of these ugly feelings. He had to numb it all away - right? He was the king, whether Bobby doubted it or not.
"I could give you that, darlin'." Bobby wasn't sure why he stuck with calling him that. Probably just because he didn't want to feel like he was on the losing side of that flirty thing that Aleister seemed to like doing so much. "Give you that and a lot more you ain't even know how to ask for. But you know how a deal goes."
Better than anyone, Bobby would argue. "There's gotta be somethin' in it for me. And none of that nonsense the boys asked for. I got better stuff to learn from the King of Hell."
Damn. The way he said darling, it went right through him right now. And not just in a fun, flirty way either. It was like an electric bolt through his dick. Oh, it would be nice. To be darling to someone who wasn't just teasing. To be wanted. Actually wanted, not just for profit or order or a deal. It was a silly fantasy and he had thousands of years to help him debunk that reality. Even so, it niggled in his brain.
"What do you want?" Aleister asked simply, not fun or teasing, he was just tired and that annoying depression was setting in. He hated it as a human and he hated it even more as a demon. That was the whole point of being a demon - howling at the moon and not giving a fuck.
"I'm interested in learnin'." Bobby got a hand into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "That's an alphabet, right?"
The letters drawn on it were from some demonic language, something ancient and evil, Bobby was sure of that much. And he had figured out some things about the language system, such as that it was definitely working similarly to an alphabet, not characters or symbols.
So he had transferred all the individual letters on that piece of paper, not wanting to hand over what he was actually working on translating. Seemed like a lateral move, Aleister already knew more than he should.
"Gimme those letters and I'm lettin' you walk around the place for a few hours. Shackled, of course. But you can have shower time, any book I'm lettin' ya read and they've got decent scotch."
Aleister looked at the piece of paper, pulled it close to inspect the symbols and then pulled a face. Well, it was still a better deal than the boys had offered him. "It's almost an alphabet, you missed two key letters and this one doesn't belong."
He tapped the incorrect symbol and then traced the missing symbols with his finger. He couldn't write them. Yet.
"First, let's get your alphabet correct. Then we can talk about giving you the letters." He leaned back and looked at Bobby expectantly. "Now run along and get me a pen, pet. I'll show you how it goes."
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."
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