Dean slung Bobby's duffel bag over his shoulder, before reaching down to loop his pinky finger around Cas's. The angel smiled at the action, glancing back up to meet Dean's eyes with affection. The two of them were leading the way through the hotel lobby to get to the parking lot, with Sam, Gabriel, and Bobby following quietly behind. Well, Sam and Gabriel were quiet, at least. Bobby, on the other hand, was making a bigger fuss than a five-year-old.

"What'er you doin'?" Bobby growled, his voice echoing in the lobby, "Lemme go, dammit. I can walk. I don't need yer help!"

Dean huffed a breath, flashing another glance at Cas. He didn't need to turn around to know what Bobby was doing. The guy was completely smashed this morning; so drunk, that he couldn't even keep himself standing upright. Dean had put Sam and Gabriel in charge of escorting the old man to the car, knowing that he wouldn't be able to make it by himself without falling over. And Bobby – being the proud, no-bullshit hunter that never wanted assistance – was, of course, refusing to comply with the order.

"You had a full-on conversation with my dog this morning," Gabriel spoke up, "and you knocked the cleaning lady into the wall by accident. What the hell is wrong with you, Singer? Did you drink the entire minibar in your room, this morning?"

"Cram it up yer fluffy ass, you lil' prick," Bobby slurred back, sounding more annoyed than angered.

"Woo, watch out, folks. We've got a badass over here," Gabriel replied.

Dean rolled his eyes, as he walked through the open sliding-glass doors into the parking lot. He had no clue why Bobby was being such an asshole, nor did he know why the old man had been drinking like an alcoholic for the past fifteen hours. Bobby didn't start that shit until he saw the devastation of the warehouse. Did he feel bad, about the boys going in without him and getting hurt?

Or was he trying to drown his emotions?

As much as Dean hated to admit it, it wasn't too long ago, that he did the exact same thing Bobby was doing now. He, too, had tried to consume gallons of whiskey at a time, and fell asleep with empty beer bottles in hand, and woke up searching for another drop of alcohol anywhere he could get it. Because watching Cas wade out into that pond – watching the broken angel, who had tried so hard to make things right, sink beneath the waves of murky water into oblivion – had damaged Dean in way he couldn't cope with. Alcohol became his best friend, after that. Even if it did take a monstrous amount of beer to do the job, at least when Dean was drunk, he didn't have to keep replaying the sight of Cas wading out into the pond to die over and over again in his head...

Dean glanced back to meet Sam's eyes. The kid seemed just as concerned; cradling Bobby's arm to carefully pull him along. Sam probably knew it, too; that something was wrong. Bobby drank a lot, sure. But never this much. Never enough to need help getting around. And, dammit, Dean hated seeing the old man in self-destruct mode. They really needed to figure out what had caused him such pain.

Dean and Cas finally made it to the car, where the man gently unhooked their pinky fingers in order to pop the trunk and put everyone's luggage away. Dean caught sight of Cas gingerly placing the leather case – the case that contained their new chrome toy – near the back. Off to the side, Bobby was suddenly trying to fight his way out of Sam and Gabriel's grip.

"No. Get off me! I ain't gettin' in there!" the old man blurted, deliberately halting to a complete stop.

Dean watched Sam and Gabriel struggling to make Bobby move again. The sight was pretty pitiful; an archangel and a hunter having to force an old man to walk five feet.

"Stop resisting," Gabriel spat, trying to shove Bobby forward, "Don't make me hurt you, Singer. I'm not above delivering a few open-handed slaps to keep an old man in line."

Sam glared at Gabriel for that comment, but Dean thought that the archangel's idea didn't sound too bad. Maybe Bobby did need a stern hand, to wake him up out of the alcohol-fueled bitchfest he was in. Under Sam's glare, the archangel laughed nervously.

"What? I'm just saying," Gabriel mumbled.

Bobby's half-open eyes raised to shoot Gabriel a scowl.

"Screw you. And the horse you rode in on," the old man hiccuped.

"Joke's on you, pal," Gabriel challenged, raising an eyebrow, "I rode in on a moose."

Sick of all the bickering, Dean slammed the trunk shut with a loud bang. The sound echoed around the parking lot, and thankfully got everyone's attention. Dean turned to meet eyes with Bobby, hoping that the old man could see just how done he was with all of this bullshit. He felt bad that Bobby was hurting and all, but geez. The guy really needed to straighten up and act like the freakin' grown man he was.

"That's enough, Bobby. When you get home, you can be as much of an asshole as you want, okay? But right now, you need to stow your crap and get in the car," Dean barked, before adding, "Please."

Dean hoped that the 'please' sounded genuine enough to convince Bobby to do as he asked. Couldn't the old man see that they were just trying to help him? Although Bobby was still giving Dean that one-eye, drunken glare, he yanked both of his arms free from Sam and Gabriel's grasp. The old man wobbled his way toward the backseat of the Impala, mumbling profanities as he went. Dean shook his head, watching Bobby climb into the car.

"Bobby's behavior is abnormal," Cas pointed out, leaving Dean's side to venture around the hood.

Cas's blue eyes were on Bobby, too, as all the guys watched him stumble and scoot to the far side of the backseat. The old man's hat was off kilter and his eyes were all glassy; making him look like a zombie movie reject. Concern and curiosity were glowing in Cas's stare, and Dean could tell that the angel was just as worried as he and Sam were, about Bobby's drunk ass.

"Something is wrong with him," Dean agreed, "but I don't know what the hell it is."

Bobby groaned loudly in annoyance, as Dean and Cas slid into the front seat. Dean glanced up at the rear view mirror, to see Gabriel's dog standing in Bobby's lap. The old man was clearly upset by the little Jack Russel Terrier, and the archangel next to him; trying to shrink away from both of them. Bobby met Dean's eyes in the mirror.

"You'd best not be expectin' me to sit next to this yammerin' idjit fer eleven hours," he warned gruffly, eyes narrowing, "I ain't puttin' up with his smart-ass-ness and the stench of his girly perfume fer that long, dammit."

"That's not perfume," Sam blurted on the other side of Gabriel, "That's... just the way he smells..."

Dean glanced over his shoulder, to give his little brother a weird look. Really? The kid was defending Gabriel's scent? Sam's face turned a bright shade of red, as his eyes flickered away in embarrassment. Obviously, he hadn't meant to say that out loud. Dean huffed a breath, before returning his attention to Bobby's statement.

"Bobby, it's not gonna take eleven hours," Dean promised, "In fact, I'm not even gonna start up the car."

Anger flashed on the old man's drunken face at once. He glared down at Gabriel's dog in his lap, before lunging forward to clutch the front seat. The smell of whiskey was still potent on his breath.

"Then what the hell am I doing here?!" Bobby spat, giving Dean a full-on glare.

The older Winchester rolled his eyes, before turning to look at Cas. Earlier, he and the angels had discussed how they were going to get Bobby home – and it sure as hell wasn't going to be by driving for hours on end. At Dean's signal, Cas nodded and leaned forward to brace both hands on the dashboard. In the backseat, Gabriel was also leaning forward to clutch the backseat; smirking at the old man next to him.

"Hang on to your britches, Singer," the archangel winked.

Dean gripped the steering wheel tight in his hands, as a brief flash of white light lit up the car. After a single blink, the scenery outside the windows changed. The warm sunlight was gone, and replaced by thunder and rain. Water was quick to coat the entire windshield; sliding in streaks down the glass. Dean scanned the windows, searching to see a familiar sight. Luckily, his plan had worked. Cas and Gabriel had flown the Impala, and everyone in it, back to Bobby's house. The car was sitting in the midst of his salvage yard, and his house was just a few feet away. Dean smiled at the welcoming sight of Bobby's piled up cars and wooden back porch.

"Home sweet home," Dean said softly, meeting Bobby's eyes in the rear view mirror again.

He truly hoped that the sight of home would make Bobby feel better. But, apparently, it didn't help at all. If anything, the guy seemed kind of disappointed. Bobby blinked slowly out at his house in the rain, as if he was staring at a graveyard rather than his own home. Dammit, Dean hated seeing that look of pain on Bobby's face. If home couldn't cheer him up, then what could?

"I won't charge you any airfare this time," Gabriel said, smirking at Bobby, "But next time, it'll cost you."

Dean knew that Gabriel was trying his best to get Bobby to smile, or laugh, or do something besides bitch and moan. But his banter didn't seem to work on Bobby. The old man only sighed greatly, before rolling out of the car to stumble toward his back door in the rain. Dean glanced back at his little brother again, sharing a look of bewilderment as they opened their own doors. It seemed like nothing they did could get Bobby out of his funk.

After getting out of the car, Cas rounded the hood again to meet Dean. The angel's eyes were glued to Bobby's back, and full of worry. Dean wished that he could comfort Cas somehow, and tell him that Bobby would be fine. But he couldn't. Because he didn't know if the guy would be fine or not. Just like the Winchesters, Bobby never talked about what was eating him. He just let it him, and tried to ignore it while it devoured him from the inside out. That was just the hunter's way. And Cas probably wouldn't be able to understand it.

"Perhaps Bobby is in need of comfort, Dean," Cas suggested, sounding hopeful.

Dean popped open the trunk to dig out the duffel bags again. How could he answer Cas, in a way the angel would understand? Dean looked up to meet Cas's blue eyes in the rain, as he handed him a bag.

"You can't really comfort a grizzly bear, Cas," Dean said carefully, hoping his metaphor made sense.

"Sure you can," Gabriel interrupted, stepping up to snoop around the trunk, "Haven't you ever watched Winnie the Pooh? All you need is a jar of honey... Hey! What's this?"

Dean had to double-take at the archangel, noticing that he'd plucked something out of the trunk. Gabriel was holding a case in his hands, now – a leather case, that was roughly the size of a woodwind instrument. Dean felt his own face go pale, at the sight of the trickster holding it. Oh, shit! Dean's chrome dildo was inside the case in Gabriel's hands! What if he opened it and looked inside?!

"I didn't know you played the flute, Pinky," the archangel said, already starting to open the clasps, "Were you first chair at band camp, or – ?"

Gabriel's sentence was cut short, when Dean reached out to rip the case from his hands. The man instantly thrust it into Cas's open arms, hoping that the angel could keep it away from Gabriel better than Dean could. Cas – whose face was holding an equal amount of panic and embarrassment – fumbled around with the case for a second, before stuffing it inside his coat. Dean felt a little relieved, knowing that it was in a safe place. He looked back at Gabriel, who seemed confused by their frantic behavior.

"Keep your grimy paws off my stuff," Dean barked, pointing a stern finger toward the trickster.

After giving his warning, Dean grabbed Cas by the arm and rushed away; trying to get out of Gabriel's reach before he could ask to see what was in the case. Cas was walking quickly in stride, still smuggling the case in his coat.

"You need to 'poof' that thing somewhere safe, Cas," Dean hissed in a whisper.

The angel gave a nod, before reaching into his coat to do as Dean suggested. The case vanished, leaving his coat empty.

"It's safe now, Dean," Cas promised.

For a moment, Dean wanted to ask where Cas had sent it; half because he was curious, and half because he was worried that someone else might find it. But he withheld his question, because he trusted Cas's judgment. Where ever Cas had sent it would be okay... right?

After forcing a sigh, Dean faced forward to step up behind Bobby. The old man was at his door, with the Winchesters and their angels at his back, struggling to unlock the deadbolt. Dean looked over Bobby's shoulder, watching him scape up the lock with the end of his key, in search of the keyhole. The sight was pitiful. How drunk did someone have to be, to be incapable of unlocking their own backdoor? Dean eventually just reached out and took the keys from Bobby, in order to unlock it for him. The door swung open and Bobby turned to shoot a glare at Dean, as he hobbled inside. He was slurring more curse words as everyone followed him into the dark kitchen.

"Dammit, kid. I coulda done that myself," Bobby grumbled, staggering toward the counter.

"Spoken like a true hunter."

The hairs on the back of Dean's neck stood up, when he heard the deep voice speak. None of the men or angels in the kitchen had said it. The harsh, gravelly tone had from from the study; seeping into the air like a growl from a wolf. Dean knew who had said it, before he even looked up. That damn accent housed pride that was unmistakably original...

The Winchesters, their angels, and Bobby all turned in the kitchen to face the study, where the doorway was wide open. Lightening was striking in the windows, briefly lighting up the house, when they all saw him. It was Crowley; standing in Bobby's study, with a glass of scotch in one hand and his cane in the other. The demon was leaning up against Bobby's desk like he was at home, and his brown eyes were glancing among the men and angels in the kitchen with amusement. Anger was on a steady rise in Dean, as he took in the sight of Crowley standing in Bobby's house. How the hell – and why the hell – was he here?! He had absolutely no right to be in Bobby's house, drinking all the man's alcohol! Dean had been thinking that the entire case involving kids was all Crowley's fault, and if that was true, then the demon had no right to still be breathing, let alone standing in Bobby's study.

Instinct and anger caused Dean to lunge forward, stepping away from Cas and Bobby, in order to barrel toward Crowley. He was glaring at the demon with full force; pissed to see him looking so smug in that stupid suit of his, while sipping on a glass of Bobby's good scotch. Sam was walking right behind Dean, too; probably wanting some answers for himself. But just as the two of them stepped foot in the study, Bobby caught them both by the arm. Dean stopped to look back at the old man, wondering why the hell he didn't want them to get to Crowley.

Bobby suddenly didn't seem very drunk, anymore. His face was white and glistening; mouth hanging open, as if he'd just seen a ghost. His eyes were huge under the skewed bill of his hat, and they were staring at Crowley; barely blinking, and appearing full of surprise – and relief. Dean blinked down at the old man's face, trying to figure out why that tiny little smirk was trying to work its way onto Bobby's lips. Why the hell did he look so pale and happy, all of the sudden? Wasn't he supposed to be drunk off his ass?

Cas and Gabriel had darted on either side of Dean and Sam, and when Bobby grabbed the Winchesters arms, they stopped the angels. All five of them were lined in a semi-circle at the entrance of the study; holding each other back, because Bobby didn't want them to go any further. The demon leaning against the desk seemed rather amused by the display, glancing from Cas all the way down the line to Gabriel. Pleasant surprise was written all over his stupid face.

"Ah. So, the rumors are true," Crowley stated, tilting his glass forward, "moose and squirrel have both found birds to mate with. What a charming, fairytale life you boys lead."

Dean's glare turned lethal. Fairytale life? Did Crowley know who he was talking to?! And how the hell did he find out about Cas and Gabriel, anyway? Whatever happened between a Winchester and his angel was strictly personal business. And no one – especially a demon with a silver spoon up his ass – had the right to talk about it.

"Whoa whoa," Gabriel interrupted, stepping forward out of the line, "Before we even get started, let's get one thing straight, okay? Sammy is my moose. And I'm the only one allowed to call him that. Get me?"

Crowley's mahogany eyes rolled at Gabriel's statement. Dean was getting rather sick of just standing there, waiting for a freakin' explanation. His patience was already wearing thin.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean demanded, restraining himself as much as he could.

The demon smirked and took a sip from the glass; a long, slow sip, that made Dean grind his teeth together with annoyance. After taking his sweet time to place the glass on Bobby's desk, he turned forward to meet everyone's eyes again. Dean was absolutely pissed, at how comfortable Crowley looked; sitting on the edge of the desk with a hand in his pocket, without a care in the world. It just wasn't right.

"I came to offer you all a hardy congratulations on a job well done, of course," Crowley answered, his smug face lighting up with a smile.

"Congratulations? To us?" Dean repeated, not buying his sympathy for one second, "For what?"

"For winning the local beauty contest," Crowley growled with sarcasm, giving Dean a half glare, before saying, "I'm applauding you for defeating your latest enemy, numbskull. I heard you and your tree toppers had a real blastwith him yesterday."

"We thought you were the enemy," Sammy said, his eyes full of confusion, "Weren't you the one trying to make deals with kids, just to raise your stupid soul count?"

Crowley sighed loudly, as he stuffed his hand further into his pocket and rolled the top of his cane around with the other. Ah, shit. Dean could feel a damn monologue coming on...

"First of all, gentlemen, I'm the bloody king of hell. And no one will ever take the crown from me. I've had entire churches of catholic priests hand me their souls in gift baskets, adorned with 'thank you' cards. I don't need to soil my hands with child affairs, in order to remain in power. Understand?"

Crowley paused for a second, in case anyone wanted to comment. But, of course, nobody said anything. They just wanted him to quit yammering about his accomplishments and get to the freaking point, already. The demon continued, after the small silence.

"Second, – and follow me closely, on this – no one, not even Satan himself, has the authority to claim a soul without proper consent," Crowley informed, "When it involves children, deals come with lots and lots of fine print. Because their souls are so pure and undeveloped, the terms and conditions have to be put in exact words, right down to the very last punctuation mark. I've mastered the art of drawing up contracts for a reason, boys. I'm no stranger to the errors of misplaced words. The smallest mistake on a soul contract will leave you empty handed."

"Well, thanks for the lesson in demonology," Gabriel cooed, voice full of sarcasm, "But is there a point you're gonna be getting to, soon? Or do you just love hearing the sound of your own voice?"

Dean couldn't stop the flicker of a smirk that flashed on his own mouth, as he glanced over at the archangel with pride. For once, Dean was actually glad to hear Gabriel's voice. It was nice to know that the trickster shared his thoughts on this; that Gabriel was just as annoyed by Crowley's presence as Dean was. Maybe Sam was right, when he said that Dean and Gabriel had the potential to be best friends... Crowley only gave the archangel a cheeky smirk, though; putting on his tough face.

"My point, Big Bird," Crowley growled, giving Gabriel a glare, "is that the demon you were chasing, was a complete and utter moron. Did you ever stop to look at one of his contracts? They had more holes than a golf course. Needless to say, he was quite the amateur. A totally inept buffoon."

"The contracts had holes?" Dean said, his heart leaping in his chest, "What does that mean for the dead kids?"

"Well, I suppose that all the good little boys and girls took a one-way trip upstairs," Crowley answered, meeting Dean's eyes to give him a shrug, "Sorry, squirrel. A void contract won't bring them back from the dead."

Dean swallowed harshly, letting his eyes fall to the floor. Well, at least the kid's souls were safe, right? At least they didn't have to deal with the pain of hell for eternity... Beside Dean, Cas took a slow step forward. His blue eyes were studying Crowley closely, and Dean could tell that the angel was skeptical.

"If you were not involved in this," Cas said, his voice low and severe, "then who is responsible?"

"I believe you meant to say, who was responsible," the demon corrected, his smirk growing, "You see, Castiel, the culprit was destroyed yesterday, when your brother decided to throw a temper tantrum and vaporize half the block."

Dean glanced toward Sam and Gabe's side of the room, to see if Gabriel was going to reply to Crowley's condescending remark with something witty. The archangel raised his arms to cross them, giving the demon a prideful look.

"You're welcome for that, by the way," Gabriel said sweetly, batting his eyelashes.

"If you had stopped to pull the halo out of your ass," Crowley said carefully, placing both hands on top of his cane as he raised an eyebrow at Gabriel, "you might have noticed a red-head on the premises."

Dean's eyes flew wide. Holy shit. They'd forgotten about that kid! That red-head kid, that the demons had yesterday! What had happened to him? Was he dead?

"Yeah," Sam blurted, looking just as shocked as Dean, "A kid with red hair. Did – did he make it? Is he okay?"

"Well, I certainly hope not. Because he's been making your lives hell for the past few days," Crowley answered simply.

"What?" Dean said, feeling another wave of shock wash over him, "Whoa. Hold on. Are you saying that the little red-head kid we saw yesterday, was the one behind all this 'devil' crap?"

"Yes," Crowley answered, his brown eyes holding nothing but honesty.

"But... he was a kid," Dean said breathlessly, feeling confused.

"You know, Dean, for someone who's spent their entire life hunting, you can be astoundingly ignorant on the job," Crowley said, making Dean's jaw clinch with annoyance again, "That child was possessed by a crossroads demon. A demon that was attempting to slither his way into my throne, by surpassing my soul count. I wasn't worried in the slightest, though. Because I knew that once the Winchesters caught wind of his dirty deals, it would only be a matter of time before he was wiped from the face of the planet."

Dean looked over to meet eyes with his brother again. So, someone had been trying to steal Crowley's crown, by raising their own soul count? And the Winchesters had unintentionally helped Crowley, by solving this case? Dean wasn't sure how to feel about this news. He never wanted to help demons. But if they hadn't killed the demon responsible for trying to take Crowley out, who would be on the throne of hell, then? What if it was someone worse than Crowley?

"Soooo," Gabriel sang, his eyes playful and his grin spreading, "What you're really trying to say is, 'Thank you, strong, brave, good-looking Winchesters, for saving my ass yet again.' Right?"

Dean was glad to see the look of disgust and bitchiness on Crowley's face. In that moment, everyone knew it was true; that Crowley really did come to thank them for taking out his competition. He was just too proud and stubborn to admit it. And Dean was glad that Gabriel had pointed it out, and put that look on Crowley's face. It was flat-out priceless.

Dean was sure that Crowley was going to reply to the archangel with something fowl, but instead, the demon's eyes wandered back down the line of men and angels. The mahogany orbs paused on Bobby, and Dean noticed that the expression on Crowley's face changed. His eyes softened and his scowl faded. The old man was staring back at the demon; still pale and wide-eyed. Dean could tell that a tiny hint of smugness was hidden in Bobby's stare. Dean glanced between the old man and the demon, wondering why they were looking at each other with such... happiness.

"You've been suspiciously silent these past few moments, Robert Singer," Crowley purred, his hand finding it's way back into his pocket, "Don't you have anything to add to this conversation, seeing as it's taking place in your own study?"

Everybody looked back at Bobby, wanting to know what he was going to say to Crowley. Dean personally thought Bobby was going to toss the demon out on his ass, or at least demand him to leave. After wasting the old man's good scotch, Crowley had earned a few good punches to the dick. But, shockingly, Bobby didn't seem upset at all. The dude was practically glowing pink; eyes full of joy and lips twitching with a smirk. Bobby coughed a bit, before speaking.

"Do you have it?" the old man asked, sounding embarrassed.

Dean glanced from Bobby back to Crowley, wondering what the hell Bobby was talking about. Oh, God. It wasn't a soul contract, was it? Or some kind of deal? A smirk spread over Crowley's face, as he blinked toward Bobby with warmth. It looked like Crowley had been waiting on Bobby to ask.

"Do I have what, darling?" Crowley spoke smoothly, tilting his head forward.

Hearing Crowley call Bobby 'darling' made Dean's insides curdle like spoiled milk. Everyone's heads snapped back toward Bobby in unison, as if they were watching a game of tennis. The old man looked fairly embarrassed by Crowley's response; cheeks reddening and eyes narrowing. The crooked bill of his hat tilted downward with his head.

"You know what," the old man spat lowly.

Dean shared a look of confusion with his little brother again. What the hell were Bobby and Crowley talking about? Was it money? A contract? Drugs? Dean was actually starting to think that Bobby had made a deal or something. Crowley's smirk grew into a full smile, after Bobby's statement. Everyone's eyes were watching the demon's hand, as it rose to reach into his breast pocket. Dean was secretly preparing to reach into his waistband to retrieve Ruby's knife, just in case Crowley pulled out a weapon or something. But, thankfully, Dean didn't need to retrieve his weapon.

Because the item that Crowley pulled out of his pocket, was one of Bobby's hats.

Dean stared with anger and confusion, as he watched Crowley softly brush off the worn fabric of Bobby's hat. It was one that the old man wore all the time; the blue one, with the rip in the corner of the bill. The hat was almost as old as Dean himself; adorned with rips and tears that Bobby wore like a helmet into battle. And Crowley was handling it delicately in his hands, like it was made of gold; touching it soft and slow, while he stared deeply into Bobby's eyes.

"You have so many, I didn't think you would notice one missing," Crowley explained, his voice low and soft, "I suppose you'll be wanting it back, then?"

Dean was thoroughly lost and angered. He didn't like how Bobby and Crowley were staring at each other so intimately. Bobby, whose cheeks were still red, held out his hand; physically demanding his hat back. Though his hand was stern, his face was much more gentle; holding the subtle hint of amusement and playfulness. Dean could feel himself starting to glare toward Bobby. Why was he smiling like that?! At Crowley?!

The demon walked forward, tapping his cane against the hardwood floor, in order to place the bill of the hat in Bobby's hand. Crowley's hand lingered on it, too, and for a moment, they were both holding it; eyes searching each others' faces and saying nothing. And the silence made Dean's stomach turn. This was so damn uncomfortable; watching Crowley stare at Bobby as if the guy was made out of chocolate. Dean wanted to break up this moment that Bobby and Crowley seemed to be stuck in, but thankfully, he didn't have to. The demon finally let go of the hat, returning his hand to his pocket. The two of them hardly blinked, while they stared at each other.

"Until we meet again, old friend," Crowley purred.

The demon finally left the room; vanishing into thin air. Dean exhaled audibly, thankful that the discomfort left with him. The older Winchester looked back at Bobby, trying to see if he could figure out why the hell Crowley had one of the old man's hats. Bobby was still standing in the middle of his study, cradling the faded blue fabric in his hands. And Dean didn't understand why Bobby was smiling down at it; looking at it, like it was the greatest thing in the world. Had Crowley done something to it? Was there some kind of spell on it or something? And why were Bobby's eyes so damn full of cheerfulness? The guy was being a drunken asshole, just a few minutes before. What was it about seeing his hat again, that made him feel all better?

While Dean stood staring at Bobby with confusion, he suddenly felt Cas's warm fingers slide around his own. The man looked down at their joined hands, before flashing a glance up at the angels' face. Cas was staring at Bobby, too, only he wasn't glaring like Dean was. A pleasant look was on Cas's features; eyes peaceful and lips curved into a soft smile. Dean glanced from Cas's beautiful, sweet face, back to Bobby's hidden smile...

And, all at once, he understood. Bobby wasn't just happy to have his hat back. He was happy to see Crowley again. The past few days made so much sense, now. Back at the carnival, Bobby had been so concerned about Crowley; punching that dead demon over and over again out of denial. Maybe he was beginning to think that Crowley was the bad guy. And, at the warehouse, maybe Bobby had thought that Crowley was dead; after seeing what Gabriel had done to the place. The sight had probably driven Bobby to drink – just like the sight of Cas disappearing into the water drove Dean to drink.

As weird and uncomfortable as it made Dean feel, he finally came to the conclusion that Bobby had a major thing for Crowley. The only reason Bobby even picked up the bottle was because he thought Crowley was dead. Dean couldn't help but feel closer than ever to Bobby, after this realization. They had both gone through the same type of trauma, and ended up with the same coping mechanism. How could he have missed all of those signs?

Dean glanced back at Cas's lovely face, to take in the sight of his gorgeous blue eyes again. It was no wonder, why Bobby and Crowley had stared at each other so deeply. That first time Dean saw Cas again, he couldn't help but stare at him for hours; unable to fully comprehend that he was back. Dean's hand tightened around Cas's, as he looked back to smile at Bobby. He was glad that the old man was happy, for once. Sam and Gabriel seemed just as glad; smiling toward Bobby, as they wrapped an arm around each other.

Eventually, the old man's eyes flickered up to glance around. His own smile began to disappear, as he caught sight of everyone's stares. His cheeks faded into a deeper shade of red and he coughed loudly, trying to break the silence. He took a few steps forward, crumbling his hat in his hands.

"What're you dipshits lookin' at?" he mumbled, darting quickly out of the room, "Don't you got somethin' better to do, besides loiter in my house? Go save some people and hunt some things or somethin.' Geez."

Bobby wandered out of the study and down the hall, leaving the Winchesters and their angels to smile at each other in his absence. They all knew they had dirt on the old man, even though he was too proud to own up to it.

"I think we found the grizzly bear's jar of honey," Gabriel said, winking up at Sam.

Dean smiled at looked back at Cas. The mention of honey had made him think of Cas's fantasy again; with all those bees flying around. Maybe it was true, that Crowley was Bobby's jar of honey. Because the way Bobby looked at Crowley was the same way Dean looked at Cas.

And Cas was, without a doubt, Dean's jar of honey.

(Author's Note: First of all, I'm soooo sorry this chapter is so late. I had a sinus infection from hell and the computer screen made my eyes burn. (It wasn't fun.) Secondly, Happy Easter everyone! *tosses colored eggs everywhere* I hope you all get plenty of chocolate! :) And, third, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I know that not all of you are Crobby shippers, but hey. Everybody needs somebody, am I right? :) This was the first time that I've ever written Crowley, and I hope he sounds close to canon. *crosses fingers* Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing this story!

As for more parts: I honestly don't know. I don't want this story to continue, if it sounds like I'm beating a dead horse. But, on the other hand, I can see a few more things happening for Dean and Cas in this story. Maybe something to do with, I don't know, adding some jewelry to their left hands or something..? :) I guess the bottom line is: If you want me to keep going, then I can keep going. It's that simple. :) So, please, give me your opinions and suggestions, and I'll figure something out. Have an awesome spring, everyone! :)

rainystv, I'm glad that the end was worth the drama. :) And I hope you liked the ending, despite all the crobby stuff. Thank you so much for your reviews!

Hagzissa, Lol! I'm so sorry I killed Sam. :) Don't worry, I thought of Ron Weasley, too, as I was writing it. (I'm a pretty big Potter fan myself.) I'm glad you also liked Cas's fantasy, and how sweet it was. I'm thinking about adding some more bee stuff in the future, if I continue this story. Maybe Dean can make Cas's fantasy come true? :) Thank you so much for reviewing all the chapters! I always look forward to your thoughtful words. :)

DancingWolves101, I'm so sorry for the feels! I hope the humor in this chapter helped you feel better! :)

Deanstiel's Daughter, Thank you for complimenting my angst skills. :) I try to stay away from those deep emotions, because I get so wrapped up in writing, that I forget that it's all just a story. It becomes real to me for awhile, so I like to keep things light. :) Lol, I think it's cool that you have a character named Ron. Is he anything like Ron Swanson, from Parks and Rec? (I love that show, btw) I hope you enjoyed this chapter, darling. And thank you for all your reviews! Let me know if you'd like to see another part or not. :)

LeeMarieJack, I agree. Dean has many characteristics of a child, and needs Cas to help bring them to life. :) Thank you so much for reviewing. :)

LadyAnalyn, I was glad to hold your hand. :) Btw, I checked out my local bookstore, for an issue of Playgirl, but sadly, I was unable to find one. Perhaps I'll order a subscription online, eh? :) And, you're right. I think baby does need a bath. ;) I might have to squeeze that into the next part, what do you say? Thank you so much for all of your reviews! I always look forward to hearing from you. :)

TheSmileyFaceGuy, Oh, good! You're back! :) There for a minute I thought you'd found someone better to read. :) I'm so glad you liked the 'old-man-river' line. It made me laugh too. :) And the sorting hat thing? Hilarious! :D Yeah, that red-head was worse than a Malfoy. I bet you're glad that Gabe 'Avada Kadavera'ed his ass away, eh? :) Okay, enough with the Potter jokes. Moving on to Cas's fantasy, I'm glad you found it as sweet as I did. I always try to keep him as innocent as possible. How did you like finding out about crobby, huh? Was it worth the wait? I hope it was. :) Thank you so so so much for reviewing every single chapter! I always look forward to reading your kind words. :)