( closed ) all messed up and slightly twisted

[ganking]

Who: crowley + blake + dean
Where: crowley’s place
When: evening/night of april 1st
Rating: R - death, violence, language
Summary: having checked off sam and cas from his list, it’s time to go after someone else who has wronged dean.

The Story:

[ for all the hollering and chaos people think dean spreads around, his current murder toll is only two. sam had it coming the moment dean had reappeared in wonderland, his grudge against his brother already born back home after their time spent together in the bunker. cas had been more of collateral damage than anything, and a sort of means for dean to wet the first blade after finally receiving it from the vendors.

the person he has in mind as his third victim falls into the same category as dear little brother, with crowley’s transgressions having been made against him back home rather than in wonderland. never mind that this isn’t the same demon king who had turned him in to his brother, that doesn’t really count. the crowley here will, after all, one day go home and do exactly as the crowley he remembers did— and turning against your best friend isn’t something dean plans to stand for.

never mind the fact that crowley’s in a dire need of a wakeup call.

the first blade is loosely in his hand, the power it brings him buzzing through from the hilt, into his hand and up his arm, making the mark of cain all but burn. dean hums a light tune under his breath, out and about without seemingly a care in the world. never mind that sam is after his head, or that john winchester has recently arrived on the shores of wonderland, too. no, tonight is all for him and crowley, so he might as well give it his full attention.

there’s no real tactic to any of this either, not with dean simply strolling up to the door he knows belongs to crowley, and letting his knuckles slide over the hard surface in a few, thorough knocks. with any luck on his side, crowley won't even see it coming, not with him thinking they're still partners in crime.

so, call it improvisation, but dean’s come to learn that makes for the best of times when murder is on the schedule. ]

Comments

[ganking]

[ the blade's work gets some space between them, and dean watches crowley double over from the shock of it, the smile on his face reflecting easily just how fucking great the sight makes him feel. whatever cuts crowley managed to get on him with his nails are also healing over already, leaving dean to look on with a bloodied but perfectly intact face.

oh, the perks of being what he is.

...what dean doesn't expect is for crowley to still find it in him to attack him again, and he goes falling down with the demon's weight slamming into his legs. grunting, he wiggles a leg free, and aims a straight on kick at his ex-fake-bestie's face. god, he's always hated that smug face, demon or not. a part of him wonders if he should have come here swinging the same hammer he'd used to remodel sam's ugly mug. ]

I already told you-- [ dean is quick to start getting himself up on his feet again, not intent on lying down and taking it. ]

You stab me in the back, I stab you. It's simple.

[ and speaking of stabbing, it's high time he find the perfect moment to end this. ]

[goesdown]

[ Crowley does his best to hide the shock and the betrayal, but it still slips through with all the pain. There's not much that can damage Crowley quite this bad, but it hurts and distantly he does know that even if Dean leaves him, it won't heal like a normal cut. He wheezes through shaky breaths. The impact of trying to take Dean down really didn't do him any favors. ]

I didn't! There was foosball and triplets and... and you and I? We were good! We've always been good!

[ Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the gentle rise and fall of Blake's chest from where he'd crumpled to the ground. Still alive, for now, but Crowley has no doubt that Dean will see that, too, and finish him off once he's finished with Crowley.

He pushes up to his feet, far from steady. ]

We're pals, you and I, aren't we? We could be great together.

[ Those words have lost a lot of meaning in light of this attack, but if Crowley can get through enough to distract Dean, he can step backwards slowly towards the closet, feigning apprehension.

Silently, he asks the closet for an iron fire poker and a towel to hold it with. He's so close that if Dean would only pause, he could get his hands on it and even the playing field a little more. ]

[ganking]

Please.

[ dean barks a laugh, eyes flashing black, the sound sudden and completely wrong, strained in a way that doesn't sound entirely human.

foosball and triplets had been great, but crowley hadn't factored into any of it-- he could have it all without the demon king, thanks. dean doesn't need anyone anymore, now he doesn't care if people leave him, if no one loves him. he's free and it's the best he's ever fucking felt. ]

Save the sweet words for another day, Crowley, when someone might care to listen.

[ and while dean doesn't register what crowley is doing, it hardly matters. the blade spins in his hand, bloodied from where he had struck crowley, and aching for more, so much more. which is exactly what dean plans on giving it. crowley doesn't get the pause he's hoping for, not with dean closing the distance between them easily enough, speed too fast until he's right there in the demon's face. it comes down to speed, whether crowley can swing his weapon fast enough, or if dean gets to drive his right into the middle of the demon's chest.

buried that deep, there's no coming back from it. ]

[goesdown]

[ Crowley's hand slips into the closet, but there's too much fumbling and his hand grasps the bare iron. He hisses in pain, but doesn't let go. It's all the opening Dean needs, though, and Crowley lets out a grunt, hand slipping from the iron poker as the blade drives home.

There's a look of almost shocked betrayal on his face as he slumps to the ground.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. ]

[ganking]

There you go...

[ voice soft, the blade sinks right into crowley's chest, cutting its way through skin, muscle and organs with ease. the moment it does, all of this is over-- dean's won, crowley's lost. and he can feel the effects, the power surge which follows the moment crowley's life begins to fade away.

it's perfect. it's power.

the demon falls to the ground, leaving dean standing there with a newly wet blade-- and he sucks in a breath, feeling the mark's satisfied shouts under his skin. after that a sense of quiet falls over the room, with crowley fading and john blake still on the ground, a nasty looking thing on the side of his head. ouch.

and speaking of, dean turns to look at the fallen cop, noting the fact that he's still very much breathing. he could kill blake, too, easily slice open his neck and send him right after crowley... but where'd the fun be in that, when instead dean can give him a few days of waiting for crowley to come back instead? that sounds like a blast. ]

Looks like you get to live another day, bud. [ after all, killing blake? been there, done that. yawn. ] But just so you don't feel entirely ignored....

[ he steps closer to blake's body, then presses a boot down over john's shoulder. from there it's a good amount of pressure and a twist, bone and muscle failing as that telling crack sounds from under his shoe. that's better... consider it a parting gift of sorts.

and maybe it'll make blake reconsider ever coming after him.

another breath, with dean casting a look around the ruined room, and he's out. hell, he doesn't even bother closing the door behind him. ]