I am going to apologize ahead of time for this... steaming garbage... that slithered into my head at 3 in the morning. Please enjoy or at least be amused... or drink a lot of alcohol until one of those things becomes possible! Thanks for reading!

It was the conclusion of a night shift, which was common for new graduates who would take any job handed out to them, no matter how unreasonable or undesired. There were no cars on the road at the ungodly hour of 4 a.m. save for a few others who might have had the same plight as her. Soft music filled the car, just muted enough to not overwhelm the senses.

A sudden, harsh shatter of thick glass and the invasion of car exhaust into her nostrils ripped her hands away from the wheel. The spider-web pattern appeared instantly on the window—before she felt the vehicle tilt and begin to roll as the airbags smothered her from unknown angles. She must have screamed or perhaps she resigned to fearful silence. Nysza wasn't fully able to describe the events that transpired. The noise was louder with each simultaneous impact that followed. So much for "no other cars on the road".

Her arm was definitely broken, along with the rest of her limbs as she sat restrained by her own seatbelt. It had instantly locked her into position. Ignoring the pain in her right arm, she reached for the hammer that her parents insisted be kept in the glove box of her car. Emotional trauma aside, her body acted first, grasping the wooden handle only to feel a blinding pain rip across her chest. She cried out that time and glanced down, panting heavily as she found a jagged metal shard lodged into her chest. So that's what had shattered her collarbone. Blinking back the tears from the leaking variety of smells, the brunette used the back end to slice through her safety belt that was essentially doing the opposite of keeping her safe.

Gritting her teeth, she deliberately doubled over, pulling her body off the metal shard. The adrenaline must have allowed her some reprieve from the bloody nose, busted lip, fractures, and nonfunctioning limbs. With one last display of strength, she threw the hammer against the window and crawled out to the grassy floor just outside. The car must have tumbled down a cliff-side.

"Well, that took you long enough." The indifference was glaring as Nysza turned to her side to see who the hell was there. He certainly wasn't a paramedic. "Remember me, sweetheart?" Coughing ineffectively, the girl tried to press her hand to her abdomen, seeing the light blue of her scrubs staining a deep red.

"Did …you… hit me?" It was a fair question, despite seeing him entirely unscathed in a dark coat and his hands inside of the pockets.

"Oh heavens, no." His voice was heavily accented and familiar in a most discomforting way. "He's dead. But you're not." There was a long pause. "You're welcome." A smug annoyance stood behind the words, and Nysza was fully inclined to believe that she had died. "Now… for you to hold up your end of the deal." Deal. That word resounded in her head even as the intracranial pressure increased so intensely that her vision blurred. There was a distinct tactile sensation of a hand touching her before the scene faded to black.

When her eyes opened again, she was standing in a house of indiscernible location. "I'm dead." She spoke cautiously, wiggling her fingers and glancing down at her uniform, pristine as the day she ironed it. Bouncing continuously up and down to test her legs, the girl looked about "I'm… in hell." She ventured.

An amused chuckle from behind her prompted her to turn with a final bounce. "Not yet. Try to keep up, Rabbit." He watched her visibly inflate, point at him admonishingly, and furrow her brow. At least her bouncing had ceased.

"Okay, you're going to want to refrain from calling me "Rabbit"." Maybe he should have left some of the injuries intact for time sensitive purposes.

"Sure kitten." The man's steps were slow, calculated, as if he were pacing "I must say, I am a little offended you've forgotten me. I've been known to leave quite an impression." Setting her jaw, the young woman crossed her arms and gave him a once-over. Not too overly tall, dark eyes that matched his neat suit, and a roughness to his voice that pulled it all together.

"…Crowley… Crossroads demon" Realization bloomed like a multi-layered rose on her expression, shifting to a couple different phases that began with absolute mortification, to what appeared to be denial, then disgust. It was comical and concerning to watch at the same time.

"Yes, bingo…what—what are you doing?" Raising his arm indolently to indicate to her multitude of changing expressions, a look of puzzlement touched his own. She looked like a puppy that had been fed a hot chili pepper to the point where he was unsure if it was her genuine reaction or the "side effect" of the contract initiation.

So it hadn't been a dream. The "demon" who had appeared to her months ago, revealing to her that she would die, and then offering a get-out-of-jail free card. Well… at a price, so that negated the whole "free" thing. Nyzsa's shoulders lifted as her face scrunched, turning it from side to side. Her face transitioned from appalled, to sheer compunction at what was unfolding before her. Slowly, her hands followed suit, fingers flexed in front of her as if holding a bowl of soup. Understandably, their first encounter had not been entirely chaste and the mindless indulgence was partially—no—completely due to thinking it was a dream. The most concerning aspect was that she had accepted the deal, and he was here to collect.

"Stop. Stop that." Eyes flickering from her face to her hands, the demon was certainly becoming more and more uncomfortable with her antics.

"We d—" And then it worsened for a moment before subsiding. "Um." Collecting her bearings, Nyzsa placed her hands back down at her sides in reluctant acceptance… at least for now. "So, what exactly do I need to do." To hold up her end of the deal. No doubt it would be grueling. Demons were not known for their… "generosity". "Fair warning. I don't know how to kill anything." Might as well toss that out there for insurance. Her existence now ran on borrowed time, pushed shakily across thin ice. With a snap of his fingers, he could shatter the ice and pick any other unwitting vessel on the earth.

"Easy!" A grin, accompanied by a raise of his eyebrows, built up another bout of unease in her stomach. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Crowley paused, "Well. Lay low, and continue with your existence. That's not too hard, right?" The woman eyed him, taking an audacious step towards him.

"That can't be it. You saved my life." Which she would entirely process later, but focusing on the task at hand, she needed to find out.

"To put it simply…" Honestly, he did not need to hand out an explanation, but he also did not need her running to the nearest hunter screaming about demons. Pointing to himself, he spoke slowly, purposefully "I'm inside you." Concluding by indicating towards her, he awaited a response.

"…. try again please." The whole situation perturbed her and if she couldn't get at least a small grasp on it… she'd lose her mind.

"You were a perfect candidate for me to put something in." The sustained blank return stare was a wonderful response. "Not what you're thinking. As much as you'd like it to be." He inhaled, a twinge of exasperation starting to show. "We'll call it my soul." Not true, demons didn't have souls, but whatever it was-an essence-needed to be hidden well until he could find a better location for it. If it were destroyed, it would take him with it, aside from salting and burning his human bones buried securely far from any prying eyes.

A person's soul was typically destroyed when that person becomes a demon. Going up against the statement of "souls are immortal", a fragment remains as leverage.

"Don't you need it?" He laughed this time.

"No." Great, so she was essentially a walking safety deposit box.

"Why me?"

"Million-dollar question." It was inevitable, to be sure. Crowley shrugged, "You're… not important." The smirk remained curved on his face, "Not a hunter, angel, demon, mogul, president—strictly average, don't-know-when-to-shut-up, hardworking citizen with no network of troubling connections." An unnecessary emphasis was placed on "average" "And! You're technically supposed to be dead. It's an ideal hiding spot, love." Nysza was content with not letting it show how much that got to her. Part of her was not willing to give the satisfaction for anything, specifically to him. The demon allowed it to sink in before adding one final piece, "Oh, one more thing." Lifting his hand and snapping his fingers summoned a peculiar disturbance in the air, "Say hello to your new roommate."

"I don't…" A bestial growl and breath of heated air against her side froze her to the spot. "What…."

"Hellhound. Don't pet him. He bites." Nysza could have sworn a wink accompanied his words, but she was more focused on the invisible creature prowling around her with no intention to listen to a word she said. "Good. We done here?" The whole ordeal had taken far longer than he ever wanted. Frankly he didn't realize she'd be so chatty and slow to react.

"Uh… wait!" A long sigh expressed how eager he was to get on with the other plans he had set in motion after handing off the Colt to the Winchesters. His lips were pressed into a thin line, bidding her to speak. "Are you going to visit?" The unresponsiveness as well as Crowley squinting his eyes prompted her to continue, "I figure its like room-mates—soul-mates. Because we're sharing a soul—no? Okay." Visitation? That's what she was choosing to ask. "Well, thank you. And you are right…" She nodded. "I don't actually know when to shut up."

Of all the things he said.

stares directly into the camera like the office.