Canon? What canon?

Rufus's Cabin A Short Time After Crowley Emailed The Washington Post

Bobby was taking a break from torturing Chet. It wasn't getting him anywhere anyway. He sat at the couch and scanned the news for any news on the Leviathans dressed as Sam and Dean. Jody sat next to him with a laptop on her lap, looking online.

"Hey, check this out," she said. She pushed the laptop to face Bobby. She clicked a Youtube video titled "MURDER BROTHERS SAM AND DEAN WINCHESTER BRAWL TO THE DEATH."

It showed exactly that: what looked like Sam and Dean fighting each other, calling the other unsavory things, and then Sam stabbing Dean in the back; Dean turnring quickly and stabbing Sam in the back; Sam falling face first on the ground; Dean pulling the knife from his throat before stumbling backwards onto his butt himself. Then, the video showed the person filming moving closer; Dean, not quite dead yet asking what he was doing.

A chill went down Bobby's spine when the camera man answered, sounding a hell of a lot like Crowley, that he was helping. Then the facsimile's eyes unfocused, and he died.

"That sounded a hell of a lot like Crowley…" Bobby mused

"Who's Crowley?"

"Demon. King of Hell."

"Why would the king of Hell be helping the Leviathans?" Jody asked. Bobby shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. He watched the video again.

"I think only one of those is a Leviathan," he said. "Look, see the black goo bleeding out of Sam's body? Now look at Dean, his blood is red…"

Bobby pulled his cell phone and called Dean.

"Hey, Bobby! Did you find a way to kill these nasty SOB's?" Dean asked on the other line.

Bobby breathed a sigh of relief. "You're alive!"

"Why wouldn't I be? We haven't even reached Iowa yet."

"Someone posted a video of the Leviathans dressing up like you killing each other—"

"Killing each other? How?" Dean interrupted.

"They stabbed each other. It's just while Sam's bleeding black, you're blood's pooling red, boy. I was scared."

Dean hummed thoughtfully. "We haven't encountered them. That's really weird. Do you know who posted the video?"

"It says anonymous, but my guess is Crowley. I heard his voice."

"And, the rest of the article says that when the police arrived at the scene of the crime, investigators found a pool of goop where the one posing as Sam was lying, but Dean was still…uh, intact. The Impala they were driving was flipped over, with more black goo pooled on the roof of the vehicle," Jody said, looking at the laptop.

Bobby relayed the information to Dean. Dean thought for a moment. "How long's it take for a Leviathan to reform?" he asked.

"Not long. Certainly not as long as it would have taken for the authorities to get to the crime scene."

"Should we come back?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I think that'd be the best for now."

Later in a Hospital near the Crime Scene

Dean woke up on a cold metal table, a scalpel cutting into his bare chest. He was naked, with a thin hospital blanket covering him from the hips down. He opened his eyes—black—and took a deep breath. The coroner screamed. Her scalpel tore at Dean's flesh painfully as she jumped back.

"Hello to you too," Dean muttered.

The coroner ran towards him and plunged her scalpel into Dean's chest before running out of the room calling for help.

Dean pulled the scalpel out and rubbed at his chest. It'd heal. He left back to the bunker, to get some new clothes. His old clothes were probably in an evidence locker somewhere…and possibly the First Blade. Fuck.

Dean decided to go to Crowley first. He wanted to know how Crowley had been "helping" him.

Crowley jumped at the sight of Dean. "What did you expect? That I'd stay dead?" Dean asked. "When do I ever do that? And besides, I told you I'm eternal. Can't die, not even if I want to? Were you not listening?"

Crowley shrugged. "Eh, you were talking and all I heard was 'ANGST!' and 'Cas, run off with me because I love you!' and 'Crowley's evil; don't work with him' and 'Why don't you love me?' It was all very boring. I mostly just tuned it out. I suppose you'll be wanting your blade back?"

"You have it?"

Crowley quickly backtracked. "Eh, no I just thought—"

"Of course you have it," Dean interrupted. He held his hand out. "Give it to me Crowley."

"Why should I? Let's go after Dick, and then you can have it back. To kill Dick."

Dean lifted an eyebrow. Crowley was…scared. Scared that Dean would kill him when he got his hands on the blade. Ha! "Or, you could give it to me, and then I'll go after Dick Roman alone."

"What, you don't want to go after him together? Just you and me—two most powerful demons, taking down the most powerful monster. Whaddya say?"

Dean tapped his chin. "Or, I could just go get it myself." He looked at Crowley thoughtfully. "Wouldn't be too hard to find."

"I don't know where it is. I told one of my henchmen to go hide it careful and then kill himself so if the Leviathans come looking for it, and they find him they can't find out where it was hidden." Crowley smirked at him.

"Wow," Dean said. "That was…actually sort of clever. Congratulations." Crowley beamed. "Now go find it."

Crowley scowled. "How the hell am I supposed to do that? It could be on the moon, for all I know!"

"Then look on the moon," Dean shrugged.

Crowley upped the ante on his scowl.

"Or of course, I could find it myself…and then kill you. Been meaning to check that off my to-do list…" Dean picked at his nails, pretending to be disinterested in whichever way this turned out.

Crowley huffed. "Fine!" With a click of his fingers, he disappeared.

Dean smirked. He knew he would always be able to play on Crowley's fatal flaw of self-preservation. That is, he would be able to, if he didn't kill Crowley anyway when Crowley returned with the first blade.

#Crowley ships it

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