A/N: Oh man - what a finale that last episode was. I could go on and on about it, but then this author's note wouldn't be so much a note as it would be an essay. Either way, it's going to be a loooooog summer before we get to see what happens next, so in the interim, how about something not quite so dire? Since this is just a silly, little ficlet, I have no beta for this and it's most likely chocked full of grammar mistakes ... sorry.
All You Need is Love
Sam was standing over him, arms glowing, palm bleeding, and preparing to 'cure' him. On the cusp of having his humanity restored to him, and already filled to the gills with the boy's purified blood, Crowley was ready … and even willing … to be fully mortal once again.
That is until the door burst open and in walked Dean to ruin the whole thing, yelling at Sam to stop the exorcism.
For the first time in, well … ever, Crowley felt his heart drop in disappointment over being saved from an exorcism. Odd how that was, he mused, knowing that had Dean come only a few hours eariler and made this demand, Crowley would have gloated over yet another victory he had won against the Winchesters.
Part of him was scared and didn't want it to happen - wanted for him to go back to the way he had been before all of these … distressing ... emotions had invaded. But at the same time, another part of him – his human side – knew that it was all just penance for the evil he had inflicted on all of his victims. This was the part of him Crowley had long ago rejected and centuries of Hell had practically erased it, but now it was back with a vengeance, making him … God help him … feel things. Things like shame, guilt, and worst of all … a disgusting amount of admiration and thankfulness towards Sam for not only saving him from Abbadon, but for driving himself into the ground just to cure Crowley's tainted soul.
He didn't know what to do with all of these emotions or how to handle them. It was enough to make him cry … again.
Crowley knew that the next few moments would decide his fate. Strapped to a chair and caught within the devil's trap, Crowley could just barely swivel his head enough to watch as Sam turned his attention away from him and towards his brother. Barely able to stand upright, Sam argued, pointing out how close he was to finishing Crowley's transformation and forever sealing the gates of Hell. All the while, Dean approached Sam like one would a wounded animal and carefully talked his little brother down from performing the exorcism before it killed him.
Soon Sam was crying, explaining to Dean how he felt like he was always letting his brother down, how he felt like he was never good enough. Then Dean was practically crying, telling his little brother how he always put Sam above all others and would do just about anything for him. Seeing his brother's desperation to save him was genuine and heartfelt, Sam finally relented and Dean pulled him into a tight embrace.
Then Crowley was crying too ... okay, sobbing actually. The manly hug, the cracking voices, and the release of raw emotion from two stoic men … it was all just so … oh bullocks! … beautiful.
Above all, it was the love these guys had for each other that truly pushed Crowley over the edge and made him blubber like a little girl. He realized then just how much he wanted even just a fraction of what those two had. All of his mortal life, he fooled himself into thinking that he never needed love. And as a demon, love was a feeling that had been scrubbed from his soul in order to survive. For centuries upon centuries, Crowley existed without caring for anyone and without anyone caring for him because he had always thought that it was more satisfying to hate. As a result, he had become a vile, dirty, foul, evil, lecherous, conniving, sinister, malevolent, wicked, depraved, and monstrous scum.
Maybe if he had had a little love things would have been different and he wouldn't have turned into a demon in the first place. Maybe if he had hugged more and tortured less ...
Crowley found that he could really use a hug right then too.
One hug, the likes of which Dean had just given Sam, and he just might be able to survive the overpowering feelings of hopelessness, shame, and despair churning inside of him. Even a small pat on the shoulder would be enough. That's all he needed, really; just a little sign that he wasn't a worthless pile of rubbish.
Crowley was reduced to such pitiful, self-loathing tears that he didn't realize that Sam and Dean had left without him. And it wasn't until what sounded like another apocalypse befalling the world outside that he finally opened his swollen eyes and saw that he was the only one left inside the crumbling church.
Looking around for any sign of the brothers, he concluded that they had abandoned him, probably forever.
Alone and chained inside a devil's trap with no way to escape, Crowley wailed, bawling loud and hard.
Now he'd never get a hug.