Cas looked back and forth between Crowley and the demons, who were all smiling rather evilly at him, and tensed. It was clear that these demons were not friends, but there were too many for him to easily fend off in his condition. If there was any chance they could find some other way out of this…

Crowley tipped his chin up and narrowed his eyes, in a gesture that Cas was beginning to realize meant that the demon felt threatened. "Alphonso," he said.

The demon in the middle of the pack, a tall fellow with long, curly black hair stepped forward. "You can't have thought you would get far, Your Majesty," Alphonso said.

Cas had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the overbearingly evil sneer. Demons could be many things, but imaginative in their intimidation tactics was generally not among them. He supposed, in this situation, they didn't have to be.

Crowley did roll his eyes. "Ooh. Scary. Really, Alphonso, there's a reason you got sent to Accounting."

Alphonso glowered but didn't respond. Instead, he waved the other demons to surround them. The demons complied, grabbing them each roughly by the arms. Crowley audibly hissed in pain. A demon relieved Cas of his angel blade.

Cas caught Crowley's eye questioningly, hoping Crowley got the message: Do we fight? But Crowley only shook his head infinitesimally as if to say,No chance.

"Actually, since you mention us not getting far," Crowley went on, directing his words at Alphonso as if nothing had just passed between him and Cas, "How did you find us? You shouldn't have known we were in Scotland, or that we'd've ended up here, of all bloody places."

Alphonso answered Crowley first by punching him in the stomach. Crowley folded over, wheezing.

"You mean you don't know how?" Alphonso asked.

Crowley's head bobbed up. "Know what?"

But Alphonso didn't answer. Instead, he gestured again, and the demons jerked them forward.

Perhaps they didn't have a chance, Cas thought, fighting now—but who knew where the demons would take them, or what their chances would be then? At least here they were together and had the element of surprise on their side. He assumed that if he took his chances fighting, Crowley would have no choice but to back him. Hopeless though he thought it was.

So when the demons shoved him forward again, Cas shoved back. The demon to his right he managed to push into one of the noxious green pools, where he started writhing and splashing as if acid were eating into him, and in the same movement Cas spun around, pressing a hand to the forehead of the one on his left. She screamed as her eyes burnt out and he grabbed his angel blade from her hand before she hit the ground. He had about one more second of the demons' surprise to take advantage of and so he lunged at the next nearest pair, plunging the blade into the neck of a tall male. The other demon lunged at him with a knife, but he blocked her swing with one arm—the blade cutting deep into the meat of his forearm—and grabbed her with his other hand, drawing on his faded grace to smite her into oblivion.

Then a hard blow to his back sent him careening forward, and he hit the rough stone floor hard enough to tear the skin on his palms and his knees. He pushed himself up but a hard boot collided with his ribs—already sore where the flying chunk of stone had clipped him—and he landed on his back, gasping. Another kick and another and another—there were too many demons—and he heard the crack of his ribs almost as much as he felt it, at least for the first second. Then he was being hauled upright again, demons grasping either arm, pain blazing in his side. Another demon wrestled the angel blade from his hand, twisting his wrist violently, and handed it to Alphonso.

Crowley was still standing placidly between two other demons, watching it all unfold with wide blinking eyes and an unreadable expression. Cas felt another surge of rage. Together, they might have had a chance, and Cas had fully expected to see him fighting or at least bloodied and restrained as Cas was. After all his talk of being in this together, Crowley had no right to stand and watch while Cas fought for both of their freedom…and for Dean. Now, they truly had no chance at all.

"That was unwise," Alphonso told Cas, stalking toward him. It occurred to Cas, through the ringing in his ears and the pain making itself known all over, that this was the first the demon had acknowledged him, and that he hardly seemed surprised to have found an angel consorting with the King of Hell.

Cas glanced at Crowley, wondering what he thought about all of this, but Crowley only stared back at him blankly.

"But then, Castiel," Alphonso said, leaning in toward Cas and smirking at him, then letting the tip of the angel blade slide down Cas's cheek in a mockery of a caress and drawing a thin line of blood, "You've never exactly had a reputation for wisdom, have you?"

All of the demons were watching now, forming a rough circle around them.

Cas clenched his hands into fists. His entire side was sparking with pain, every breath jabbing painfully, and the energy he'd expended to smite the two demons had left him lightheaded and vaguely nauseous. Another escape attempt would not likely end any better than his first, but it was hard to see any other options. The one thing he was certain of was that he did not want to be taken wherever it was Alphonso and his demons planned to take him.

"Where's Dean?" Cas demanded, stalling for time more than anything else.

Alphonso's face cracked into a grin, and the demons around him chuckled as well, moving in closer. It struck Cas as an odd reaction but he stowed the thought away.

"Tell me where Dean is," he tried again.

"We were told how you felt about Dean," Alphonso said. He dragged the tip of the angel blade along the underside of Cas's jaw. "Our new king has—"

BOOM!

Whatever else Alphonso was going to say was cut off by a sudden, invisible force slamming into him—and into the demons surrounding him, throwing them all across the cavernous room like so many bowling pins.

For a split second, he saw an unexpected image of Crowley—Crowley standing tall, one palm outstretched, grinning as the power crackled around him, the two demons on either side sparking into death—and then he was turning over in the air and rolling to a rough stop on the ground in between two bubbling pools. All around him demons were falling as well, some splashing into in pools with and others skidding to a stop like Cas. Alphonso landed headfirst in a particularly noxious green one nearby, emitting a strangled bubbling noise for a few seconds before stilling.

Cas pushed himself up dizzily, coughing and tasting something metallic, completely confused. Then there were hands, helping him up.

"Get up," Crowley said. Up close, the triumphant, powerful look was gone, his skin was grayish under his beard and he was trembling visibly. "…They won't be out long."

"What did you do?" Cas asked. He and Crowley were the only ones moving.

"Waited until you had all their attention, then let loose," Crowley said. "Really, Castiel. Trying to fight twelve demons all on your own? Totally predictable, of course. Just had to wait for my moment."

"You hit me," Cas pointed out, not sure whether to be mollified that Crowley hadn't been planning to leave him to die, or to be annoyed that Crowley had anticipated Cas using himself as a distraction.

"Aimed as best as I could," Crowley said impatiently. "You're conscious, aren't you? Now, I need your help. We've got…half an hour, maybe, before they all start waking up."

Cas hesitated, still on his knees though Crowley was trying to heave him up with his good arm. "We should take one of them with us."

"What?" Crowley snapped. He gave up on picking Cas up for a moment to be properly confused.

"They know something about Dean. If we can convince one of them to tell us where he is, we can go straight to Dean," Cas said. "We won't even have to go to this security room. They also appear to have information about this new king of hell."

"Can't risk it. We need to get away from them," Crowley said, redoubling his efforts. With a mighty heave and a grimace he managed to get Cas to his feet. "And I need your help."

Suppressing a cough and tasting metal again, Cas wrapped an arm around his chest. He wondered vaguely if Crowley had really had any idea just how weak he was when he'd come to his door asking for help, or how much weaker he was now, and supposed it best not to ask. Then he picked his way over to the demon who had stolen his angel blade a second time (this one was lying half in a pool that smelled strongly of sulfur) and took it back, stowing it in his still-damp coat. His right wrist was stiff and sore, but he forced himself to ignore it along with the stabbing pain in his side. Really, he had gotten off better than expected.

"Alphonso hinted he could find you anywhere," Cas remembered, glancing at the now skinless, floating corpse in a tattered coat that was all that remained of the demon.

Crowley let out a long sight. "That is why I need your help. Do you ever listen?"

Cas tilted his head in confusion.

"What he said. I assume they're tracking me," Crowley explained. He glanced down at his hurt shoulder. "Only thing I can think of. Al here shot me with something before I managed to make my grand escape. Whether it's meant to be an occult homing device or if it's just powerful enough to send off a signal they can track, I don't know. But I can't get it out myself, believe me, I tried. That's why I need your help. Preferably before they all come to and start trying to kidnap us again."

"You want me to remove a bullet from your shoulder," Cas clarified, frowning.

"Yes," Crowley hissed frustratedly. "Or whatever it is. I didn't see it, I felt it."

Cas glanced around at the unconscious bodies surrounding them and nodded. "Very well. Sit down and take off your shirt."

Crowley didn't hesitate. He shucked off his drenched coat, then dropped to one knee a little too fast, then resettled himself into a sitting position between two pools with a grimace. Once on the ground, he started untying his tie awkwardly with one hand.

Cas knelt behind him, noting the large stain of blood that spread across Crowley's dark shirt at the back of his shoulder blade. It was clear that the wound was still bleeding sluggishly, leaving a dark splotch in the damp material. Then Crowley undid the buttons of his shirt and pulled it gingerly off his arm and shoulder.

Crowley's shoulder was a mess. Whatever had hit him had left a large entrance wound, perhaps an inch or two in diameter, in the center of his shoulder blade. It had gone straight through the bone, and Cas could see little white splinters sticking out through the gory mess, along with what looked like the shredded remnants of Crowley's previous shirt. And the whole area was tender and red and puffy, as though it were infected—which was, of course, odd for a demon. On another occasion, he might have been amused by the fact that the demon had bothered to find a new suit in between being ambushed and losing his kingdom and going to Cas for help. Now, though, he found something disquieting about it.

He still wasn't pleased with Crowley—far from it—but the thought that his companion had been nursing an injury of this magnitude without complaint made him feel something strange. He had always assumed that Crowley would never suffer on anyone else's behalf, if he could avoid it, and yet (whatever his true motivations were), he had apparently been willing to deal with considerable pain in the hopes of getting Dean back.

As another cough rumbled in Cas's chest, bringing with it another spasm of pain the taste of blood, he supposed that he and Crowley did have one thing in common. On the other hand, the question of Crowley's motives had grown even murkier. Cas, of course, would suffer anything for Dean because he cared about him very strongly—more so, if he were to be honest, than he had ever found himself able to admit to Dean or even to himself. But Crowley… certainly Crowley could not have the same motivation.

"Well?" Crowley prompted.

"Your shoulder's badly damaged," Cas reported, then asked out of genuine curiosity, "Why didn't you ask me to do this earlier?"

"Didn't know they were tracking me," Crowley grunted.

"Yes, but, it must be painful," Cas said, leaning in to study the injury more closely.

"Of course it is," Crowley said. "Now will you get on with it? Tick, tock."

Cas pulled out his angel blade and positioned the tip of the entrance to the wound. Crowley braced himself, his shoulders tensing while his head bowed. Then Cas dug the blade in.

The puffy flesh gave way easily to the blade, and he worked it in, trying to open up the wound enough to find whatever had lodged into Crowley's shoulder. Though Crowley had made a small noise when Cas had initially pushed the tip of the blade in, he remained impressively quiet otherwise, his eyes pressed shut and jaw clenched.

Cas frowned slightly. It seemed almost as though whatever it was had worked itself in deeper since it had been shot into Crowley's back. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see one of the demons twitching…

He pushed the blade in further, finding where the thing had punched into Crowley's shoulder blade, then stuck his fingers roughly into the opening. Crowley jerked and let out a sharp grunt of pain, but it had worked. He felt the smooth, foreign outline of something beneath his fingers, pressed up against the jagged bone. A sharp jab with the tip of the blade knocked it loose—eliciting a shout from Crowley—and he fished it out with his pointer and middle finger.

"I've got it," he said. Other demons were beginning to twitch or move fitfully now. "Can you move?"

Crowley slumped forward, taking a gasping breath and letting out a formless groan. "Give me a bloody second, will you?"

"The other demons are moving," Cas pointed out. He glanced down at the blood covered thing in his hand. It was small, and smooth, and fairly unremarkable. It looked like a small stone. Just how it had done so much damage, or left Crowley's wound swollen and infected-looking, he wasn't sure.

"What is that?" Crowley asked. He held out his hand and Cas dropped it in. "Huh."

As Crowley examined the thing, Cas leaned over and stabbed the nearest demon, whose eyes had started to flutter, in the throat. Wondering why he hadn't thought to do this earlier, he staggered to his feet and dispatched of all but one.

"Oh yeah," Crowley said exhaustedly. "Good idea. Now, we've got to go."

"Why? What is that thing?" Cas asked.

Crowley held it up to one eye, squinting at it. "Honestly? Still not sure. It stays here. We go."

He tossed it into one of the acidic pools. There was a small explosion as it hit the surface, and then it began sinking. Then, slowly, laboriously, he started pulling his shirt back on.

On a whim, Cas knelt beside the pool where Alonzo had fallen and used his angel blade to hook his belt and pull him toward the edge. Wincing, he heaved what was left of him onto dry ground, then dug his hands into the pockets of Alphonso's tattered coat, feeling the sting of the acid soaking through the fabric. He pulled out what looked like a small pistol and pocketed it.

"I left one alive," he informed Crowley. "We should bring her with us."

"What?" Crowley said.

Cas rolled his eyes. "You can't be tracked anymore. We're not about to be followed, unless we stay here, where we've left the tracking device. We should bring the demon with us, and interrogate her elsewhere. We need to find out where Dean is. And who has him. This may be out best chance."

"…Fine," Crowley sighed, grimacing. "But you're carrying her."