The Dream I Dreamed (A Dean Winchester Love Story)

Chapter 28: And Still I Dream He'll Come to Me

A/N: Here it is! The first chapter with Demon!Dean!!!!! I just want to let you know that it is just as uncomfortable for me to write Demon!Dean as it is for you to read and I will avoid details as much as possible. I just have to put it in because I want to represent his character as accurately as possible and, in the words of Jensen Ackles, he's a womanizing asshole.

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Chapter 28 And Still I Dream He'll Come to Me

The Impala flew down the highway, almost unrecognizable because of the dirt covering its usually shining black surface. Dean sat in the driver's seat, eyes solid black, nodding his head and singing along to 'Back in Black' by AC/DC. As the music blared on he pulled up outside of a bar and strode in, pausing to flick his eyes back to green.

Dean scanned the room before striding confidently to the bar and planting himself on a stool beside a pretty brunette in a low-cut tank top and short denim shorts. She eyed him curiously as he ordered a drink, then turned to her. "Hey, sweetheart." He said, his voice low and gruff.

"Hello." She smiled flirtatiously and turned on her stool to face him. After a few minutes they were on top of each other, staggering out out the bar and to the Impala. Dean shoved the girl against the car and kissed her roughly, running his hands up and down her body. They slid into the back seat as she peeled off his shirt. A growl rose from the back of Dean's throat.

Time to have some fun.

"You going to take me to your place?" the woman teased. They were laying in the back seat, her head on his chest.

"Sure." Dean replied. "I just gotta make a call." He pulled a knife from beneath the seat and let his eyes flick black. She screamed as he slit her throat, letting the blood flow into a silver bowl. Dean began chanting in Latin and the surface of the blood stirred. "Crowley." He greeted with a predatory grin.

"Squirrel." Crowley replied. He was sitting at a neat antique desk in his mansion, peering into a silver bowl like the one Dean held. "What can I do you for?"

"I want the Blade. I know you took it." Dean growled.

"For safe-keeping." Crowley interjected.

Dean scoffed. "Save it. I'm coming. It better be there when I show up." With that he opened the door and dumped the blood onto the gravel. He glanced at the body of the woman and dragged her out onto the ground by the shoulders. Then he tugged his shirt on, slid into the driver's seat, and peeled out onto the road, driving more wildly than ever before.

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Crowley never thought he would feel concern for Dean Winchester. Hatred, definitely. And annoyance. Maybe even some grudging admiration. But never concern.

He blamed Sam. The Moose had infected him with humanity and now, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he was clean, he still had all of these bloody feelings. He was worried about a Winchester. The thought had even crossed his mind that maybe Dean being a demon was not such a good thing after all. He was wild, reckless, and while Crowley enjoyed killing and drinking and having a good time as much as the next black-eyed fellow, he thought Dean was taking it a bit far.

It was the Blade that scared him. It was doing something to Dean. Crowley couldn't help but be reminded of the Lord of the Rings. The blade had the same kind of hold over Dean as the One Ring claimed over those who carried it, and, to Crowley's surprise, it was terrifying, rather than exhilarating.

And now Dean was coming to get it.

Crowley didn't know what to do. He wasn't sure why, but he was determined to keep the blade away from Dean. He knew it was dangerous to hold out on him. Dean was powerful, the only Knight of Hell left in existence besides Cain himself. But Crowley somehow knew that it would be more dangerous to let Dean get his hands on it.

There was only one thing to do; time to pay Moose and Feathers a visit.

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