"I need to hunt something, and I need to now." Dean insisted, downing his 3rd shot of scotch. It wasn't his favourite, but hey booze was booze. They all numbed the same.
"I get it, Dean. I may have found something."
Dean slightly nodded his lazy head from the table, signalling for Sam to read out the report.
"Well, yesterday around 6:43pm, 2 victims were found behind their local bar, eyes burned out."
"Angel?" Dean asked numbly.
"That's what I thought, but they also had initials carved into their chest."
Dean looked up, he set his glass down and leaned forward, arms supporting him.
"Carved? What were they?"
Sam looked at the computer for a few seconds.
"Uh, A,R." He trailed off.
Dean looked at the table, his heart felt heavy, it couldn't have been her, it's been 5 years since it was his fault.
"Uh, Dean?" Sam sounded worried.
"What." He said sternly.
Sam flipped the laptop around to show a video. Security footage. Angled from behind a girl.
She held a small square in her hand, in addition to a gun.
She pointed the gun at 2 men who were panicking in the alley.
She held up the square, it looked like a mirror, then the men's eyes were burned out in a bright light.
She set down the mirror, and grabbed a small blade from the back of her jeans.
She ripped the first mans shirt with the knife, and as Sam said, carved her initials into his flesh.
Rinse and repeat with the second. She cleaned the blade with the man's shirt. Tucked it back into the back of her jeans, and looked at the camera. Stared, with a smile on her face.
Dean blinked, mouth open with astonishment. He quickly tried to gather himself together, but failed miserably, looking like a broken shell.
She winked and shot the camera.
The screen fuzzed.
Then nothing.
"Dean, I-"
"Save it." Dean interrupted. "It's not her, just my fucking demon."
"I still don't thi-"
"Look, If you want to hunt her, I'm not coming with you."
Sam was hesitant on what exactly to say.
"I just can't." His voice cracked.
Sam closed his laptop and stood up from the table.
"Ill uh," He trailed off. Then lamely nodded his head towards the exit to to bunker. "Go get some stuff then." He walked off through the exit, as soon as the door closed, Dean through his head into his arms, crying softly into the table.
"Why couldn't I have saved her?"
"Because you were scared, Squirrel." A deep voice boomed.
He flinched and looked up.
There Crowley stood, a conceded smile plastered across his face.
"What do you want?" Dean asked, wanting so badly to beat him to a pulp, even if it didn't do anything. He needed something to take the edge off.
Crowley didn't say anything.
"Did you come to laugh at me? Cause save it. It's taking all I have not to rip out your throat right now.
Crowley rolled his eyes.
"With your teeth? Jesus, you really have fallen hard. Your repeating yourself."
Dean sighed, he didn't care. He stopped actually caring 5 years ago.
"Did you want to rub it in my face that Amber's a demon because of me? Because your right."
Crowley let out an aggravated sigh.
"Please, anything to save me the Winchester man pain, no. I actually wanted to help you."
Dean stood from the table, his chair screeching from the sudden force.
"Why would you want to do that?" He was tired of this dance. Everybody was.
"You want Amber, I'm prepared to give her to you."
"Again, why?"
"Just like you, she's uncontrollable, bad for business."
Dean thought for a moment, Dean could see what was becoming of him when he was a demon, and what was happening right now, seemed strikingly similar.
"I don't know if it's the mark, but she doesn't have it so I don't know why she is acting exactly like you did. Down the very last detail, Dean. I need you to get her."
"No..." He replied coldly.
"No? Dean, come on. Your toy is running amuck, destroying everything In her way. The least you could do is keep your whore in chec-"
Dean shoved Crowley into the wall, hard. He held his throat and pushed.
"Don't you dare talk about her like that."
Crowley struggled against Dean's grasp. Roughly grabbing his wrists to move him. But to no avail.
"Oh, and that comment about me ripping your throat out,-" He paused. "Oh yeah, with my teeth," He growled. "I'll actually do that, so I advise you play nice. Or, I'll drown you in holy water."
He pushed hard on Crowley's throat, he gasped for air.
"Got it?"
"....yes...." He whispered.
Dean let go of Crowley, causing him to fall to the floor, gasping for air.
"Great-" Dean grabbed Crowley's jacket and lifted him off the ground partly.
"Glad you see it my way."