The frightening images flash before your eyes. The chains are biting into your skin, keeping you in place like a piece of meat. The sounds of screams, groans, and snarls fill your ears. That should have tipped you off that this was a dream; you could only hear in hell. You open your mouth again to scream for help as the fear fills your mouth like blood.

Your eyes fly open and you are back in your bedroom, a safe place. However, it feels far from safe tonight. You want to sleep. You need to sleep, but there is no way you can do it alone. You push yourself out of bed and drop down on your hands and knees to the floor, dragging out the copper bowl from under the bed. He had placed it there just in case you needed him while he was away.

Crowley stuck the silver knife deep into the side of the Alpha Werewolf. He howled in pain.

"What do you know about Purgatory?" He shouted into the face of the man.

All the werewolf did was moan in pain. Crowley raised the knife, plunging it down, beginning to cut him to ribbons.

Suddenly, there was the tugging at the edge of his mind. He was being summoned. It was either those pain in the ass Winchesters, or you. You might need him. If it was the Winchesters so help him he would kill them this time.

The tape recorder of Crowley saying his own summoning spell is clutched in your hand. You press play, hearing the faint vibrations through your fingers. You only heard his voice a few times before when he first brought you back from Hell. You count to ten and throw the match into the bowl and the smoke burns your nose.

Crowley appears in the familiar bedroom and sees you apparently unharmed on the floor with your back to him. He reaches out to touch your shoulder to show you he is here however, he sees his hand. It's still dripping with werewolf blood. Wiping it quickly on the expensive fabric of his pant leg, he then again reaches out and touches your shoulder.

You jump slightly and turn. The fear is gone, and he's back. You see he's wearing a blood spattered apron and his hands and face are stained as well. He's killed another monster.

"Did I catch you in the middle of something?" You sign, lifting an eyebrow and smiling to show you are slightly bemused.

Crowley looked down at his appearance, "Werewolf. He's already bled out by now." He signed. "You okay?"

To tell him you were scared of another dream of hell, and that you couldn't even spend one night without wanting him there when you wake up, is hard. You look down at the floor and bite your lip, the tears filling your eyes. He lowers himself beside you and you feel his arms around you. You can feel his lips press against your head and his mouth moving, saying words he knows you can't hear but wants to comfort you all the same. He offered to give you the chance to hear once, but you were scared that you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Hell and what was real so you refused.

He pulled away, "Let's get you to bed, yeah?" He signed.

You get up off the floor and climb back into bed. You see him go into the bathroom to get rid of the apron and wash his hands and face clean of blood. The bathroom light switches off and you are left in the dark but soon he's there. Hands that know how to torture and kill, slowly stroke you hair. Lips that have made deals and taken souls press gently against your forehead. The feel of the fine silk of his shirt rubs against your cheek as you settle down against his chest.

"I'll be here in the morning love." His hand covering yours as he uses your hands to sign so you know what he is saying.

"You better, or I'll kick your ass." You sign back, your hands guiding his. His chest moves slightly as he chuckles your hands still entwined. You breathe in the faint smell of smoke under expensive cologne and close your eyes, letting yourself drift to sleep, because who can be scared of Hell when they have the King in their bed?