(no subject)

[poetryforfish]

Castiel sat on a park bench in lower Tadfield, trying to find something to do with his right hand that wasn't "resting on the blade hilt Just In Case". Fingers tapped along the bars of the bench, adjusted and readjusted the edge of his coat, anything he could think of every time he caught himself trying to settle into "on-guard."

He really did want this to go well. Not just because they had no choice but to work together--thought that was certainly true--but because he didn't want to appear irrational in his family's eyes. They believed in him. He should as well. To be this militantly suspicious was giving his own Crowley power he didn't deserve, at least not in this world. So he sat and waited for this world's Crowley, another demon entirely. One it might not hurt to get on with, at least in this world.

Time to put his future behind him for good.
 

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[saunterdownwards]

Crowley gave a snort of bemusement but his tone was laced with understanding as he tipped his head. "Sticks," he repeated. "Ones just lying about on the ground. I'd wager he thought of it on the spot." Then he paused, studying Castiel for a long moment before a bit of realization struck.

"Right," he said by way of re-centering himself. Best to get with the explanation. "First thing you have to do, in regards to anything dealing with our young leader, is to remember that he possesses the ingenuity of a prepubescent human boy and power rivaled only by the Almighty Himself, with just the right amount of Lucifer's stubbornness. He doesn't simply think outside the box; he throws out the box and creates a sphere instead."

It was important Castiel understand. Crowley studied him a moment longer before adding, "The only limitations that boy truly possesses are the ones he places upon himself and he tends to make them up as he goes along. If you don't want to drive yourself quite mental dwelling upon such things, I'd advise you to follow one simple guideline both Aziraphale and I have become quite fond of keeping in mind since this all began."

He pulled out another cigarette and, lighting it, finished with a flourish, "When it comes to Adam Young, even the impossible is quite possible."

[poetryforfish]

Impossible things...

"What about more than impossible?" he asked. "What about unknowable? You said that the weapons of Heaven, such as there are, are in short supply and uncertain locations. What would happen if Adam were to..." It was an insane idea, but from what Crowley was saying he needed to get used to having those on a regular basis. "Could he decide to know where they are? How to find them?"

It was nearly the only thing he could think of that would be a game changer without necessarily being immediately apparent to their adversaries. And on the subject of knowledge...

"I need to know everything you can tell me about Lucifer here. The conditions and details of his imprisonment, his objectives within a theoretical Apocalypse, how he prefers to fight. If he can be expected to seek alliances, and with whom."

[saunterdownwards]

"That," Crowley said after a thoughtful pause, "is rather a good idea, actually." He paused. "Well, the first bit, about Adam knowing where the weapons might be located. The latter..." He hissed slightly. He almost looked uncomfortable despite his casual stance as he shifted a bit.

Logically speaking, he knew that he had Adam's protection, even when it came to the likes of Lucifer. He also knew that the son far outweighed the father, power-wise, as well. However, if there was one being capable of putting fear into him in a way no other could manage it was the Devil himself.

It was something he'd been trying to work on but it wasn't easy to let go of eons of survival skills learned the hard way. Placing his faith (of all wretched things) in the hands of a young boy prone to flights of fancy and whimsy was much easier done in the heat of the moment, when he didn't have time to dwell on just how creative Lucifer could be when it came to those who betrayed him.

Fortunately, there was something that Castiel had said that stuck with Crowley. It made for an easy enough way to delve into the topic, he figured. Better than obviously stalling for any longer than he already had.

"First off, what do you mean, details of his imprisonment?" he questioned. "Fairly certain the Good Book itself spells it out rather clearly." Then, it occurred to him that perhaps things had somehow gone differently in Castiel's reality. Maybe the Bible didn't cover Lucifer's Fall from Grace. Or maybe it happened in a different way. With a shrug, he kept his tone almost deadpan as he retold a tale that was almost as old as time itself. "Got himself worked up a bit when God wanted all of Heaven to bow to humanity and decided he could do things better. Tried to take on the Throne, wound up cast out, and set up shop Below. Stop me if any of this doesn't sound familiar..."

[poetryforfish]

"Set up shop doesn't sound familiar," Castiel spoke up quickly. Crowley had asked him to. "Wasn't he caged? Why would the Archangels be content to let him walk free, just so long as he didn't do so in Heaven? What point is there in that? Weren't they at all concerned for humanity--particularly given that vessels don't exist here as they do in my world? Why leave him free to act when there isn't even a small segment of the population he would be compelled to not slaughter? If not humanity, then the schedule at least! What would prevent him starting the End early?"

None of which Crowley might have an answer for, he realized shortly after. He hadn't exactly been on that side of things, from the sound of it. Castiel stopped, took a breath, let it out.

"I suppose I should have established a point of departure first, before asking. But I hadn't expected the differences to be this great." He looked at Crowley, though his hand didn't leave the pommel of the blade. They may be having a relatively relaxed conversation now, but they'd come out here to do it with good reason. "Back home, he was locked away. Sealed in a cage for hundreds of thousands of years, until he became little more than legend, even in Hell. Demons regarded him the way we did Father. Virtually none of them could recall the last time they'd seen him but they trusted that he was somewhere, that he would come back and fight for them. Support them in their destructive efforts. Only in their case, there was some merit to the belief."

It wasn't a particularly necessary barb, but though they had reconciled his Father's conspicuous absence during that time still stung.

"The demon Lilith ruled Hell, not him, and when the time came she started breaking the Seals that held the Cage shut. I was told--many of us were told--at the time that we were trying to stop her. But it was really an effort to distract those of us who would have been unable to reconcile ending the world with protecting it, until it was too late to argue the point. While we chased her mayhem all over the globe, the Archangels were making sure she succeeded wherever we weren't. The breaking of the Seals opened the Cage. We won by pushing Lucifer back in, Michael with him. The key was the combined rings of the Horsemen--I was expecting a similar artifact to be necessary here as well."

[saunterdownwards]

At first, listening to the differences had almost been amusing. Interesting, to be sure, but even humorous in a twisted, looking at life through a skewed lens, kind of way. However, the more Castiel spoke, the faster Crowley's mood shifted. By the time it was all said and done, in fact, he was equal parts horrified and disgusted.

"Hang on a tic," he muttered, crushing out his cigarette before focusing completely, and fully, upon the angel beside him. "Lilith? The bloody slag is running things?" The thought of it was absolutely baffling. With a slow shake of his head because no, he definitely couldn't make sense of any of it, he exhaled slowly.

"Right. Well, there aren't any bloody Seals, first off." He paused. "Well, that isn't entirely true. There were Seals, but they foretold the coming of young Adam, not some sort of tools to assist in breaking his father out of some sort of bloody cage... and what do you mean, why wouldn't Lucifer simply wipe out all of humanity? That's your Lucifer's play, then? Just wipe out the whole lot and start over? Never even gave the thought mayhaps they'd make rather good fodder for the battle of Everything if they were simply corrupted?"

Yeah. No. Crowley couldn't wrap his mind around such a thing. He paused, focused on the unnecessary act of breathing for a few seconds, and tried to get his now-racing thoughts in semblance of order. It was only then that it occurred to him that Castiel kept mentioning Archangels but never God himself. And that's when the biggest change between their two realities became absolutely crystal clear to the fallen angel.

"It's God."

Realizing the two words sounded rather odd, especially coming from the likes of him, he continued quickly. "Never once have you mentioned the Lord being involved where you're from, yet here that isn't the case. He tends to take a backseat these days, to hear Aziraphale speak of it, but he's there. Here, Lucifer went Below and began to rule it, slowly and methodically plotting the day he would return to Above and overthrow the Almighty personally, all the while knowing the Almighty was waiting for any chance to smite him should he show his hand too early."

It made sense, in an extremely twisted sort of way. Crowley shook his head and let out a puff of air. "Do hope you aren't insulted as it might peeve Adam a bit, but I must say I'm rather suddenly glad to be from this reality. Yours sounds rather awful even by Below standards. Lucifer might be bloody terrible but at least I've been about him since the beginning. Actual corrupted human souls running the joint? I shudder at the horror of it all."

[poetryforfish]

"Well, we did manage to kill Lilith," Castiel amended, as if this new piece of information was going to make anything better. "After Lucifer was caged again, a crossroads demon named Crowley took over the throne. I didn't pay close attention or even care much at the time, because during the Apocalypse, he'd been helpful. He had realized that the eradication of humanity would leave him and his kind with little to do and no way to expand their numbers. And had enough foresight to understand that humans were the only things standing between demons and their own Lord's inevitable wrath and boredom."

He shook his head briefly at Crowley's question. "Lucifer preferred the mindless undead to the corrupted. The virus--humans called it Croatoan--gave him the human cannon fodder he needed. Free will is generally frowned upon in our society, and whatever else may be said of him, Lucifer is still an angel. In his mind he didn't have time to win humans over."

"As for God..." Castiel scowled. "No one knows where He is. I spent months searching for him when I rebelled. I never found any trace. Oh, He brought me back to life when I died for the cause. Did it twice--remotely. But that was as involved as He ever got in any of it. I can barely remember the last time I saw Him, back home." The next part was hard to say, and harder to say without emotion. That was the last thing he wanted to do in front of a demon, but... Crowley had wings. He'd been part of the old family too, once. "I... I don't think He lives there anymore. Anywhere in my world. I think He left after we'd won."

He snorted. "Though I understand your sentiment completely. I'm sure young Adam would be relieved to hear we are accustomed to much thornier problems than was apparently anticipated."

[saunterdownwards]

When Crowley had first learned about the Antichrist bringing an angel in from another reality, he hadn't been certain what to think. He hadn't really been nervous, namely because he knew Adam wouldn't stand for any in-fighting among those he considered "his", but he'd definitely thought it a bit odd. Aziraphale had been an exception, not the rule. However, as Castiel began to speak about his Father's absence in his reality, it began to make sense. Crowley certainly wasn't any fan of the Almighty - particularly considering he'd gotten the short end of the proverbial stick from the deity when he hadn't really done anything to truly deserve it - but even for him the thought of God simply not being there. Just... gone. It was a truly horrible thing to consider. Far worse than anything he could come up with to do to someone, much less all of Creation.

Of course, he didn't know Castiel nearly well enough to feel comfortable fully voicing such things. He didn't even allow the aghast expression he wore to linger for more than a few seconds before he was once again fully composed. His stomach, however, continued to churn even as his voice held steady. He spoke sincerely, though. It was the closest to compassion that he'd allow.

"I suppose bringing you back a few times says something. The rest, however..." Then he employed a tactic of Aziraphale's whenever the Principality learned of something he didn't particularly like or wish to discuss. He gave a disdainful sniff and didn't comment on it further.

Instead, he simply said, "Well, He's certainly here, as is Lucifer. Although, at least in the latter's case, he isn't capable of physically coming to Lower Tadfield. His son decided that much, the first time around. Doubt he's keen on changing his mind on the subject, now." He paused then pointed out, "Which means, eventually, if Adam doesn't go after his Father on his own terms, Lucifer will force his hand... and, right, now all I can think is let's only hope he doesn't take a page out of your Lucifer's book and turn a town into bloody zombies to get some attention. Give me a moment, if you will." Because really, he'd thought he could ignore his own reaction to the things he'd just been told but even he had his limits.

He pulled off his sunglasses after a second, and pinched the bridge of his nose. His mind was still spinning with the odd differences and changes in Castiel's reality. Some corrupt human soul - a Crossroads Demon - was using his name and sullying his reputation, Lucifer was locked in a cage of some sort, and the Creator of All was MIA. It sounded like some sort of book series that had started out one way and strayed another entirely halfway through. There. That last thought helped. Not to mention, it wasn't his reality. Wasn't much more than a terrible story he'd just been told.

Opening his eyes, Crowley refocused on Castiel. He slid his sunglasses back into place before flashing his trademark smirk. "Right. Apologies and all that wretchedness; the gravity of the situation you'd described in your, ah, previous home, suddenly decided to make itself fully felt. Now, as I was saying. I do believe it would be best if we considered having Adam be the one to approach Lucifer rather than wait for a rather obvious, likely deadly for any bystanders, trap of some sort to be laid."

And yes, he was absolutely suggesting they send the boy in to do the heavy lifting. He might have been willing to face the Devil before, with Aziraphale by his side, but that was before he'd truly understood what Adam Young could do when he set his mind to it. Now that he knew, though, he saw no shame in not choosing suicide over utilizing the best weapon they had in their arsenal. The fact that he was just a boy was merely semantics.

[poetryforfish]

Castiel gave Crowley a hard look at the suggestion. "As someone who has attempted to make decisions about an Antichrist's options in the face of the Apocalypse without consulting the child first, I would advise you to let Adam be the one to make that call."

There was a voice in the back of his mind saying You see? He isn't such a different Crowley at all. He has no loyalty to anyone. He shoved it into a corner. He should wait. Rei would tell him to wait. That not everything that looked like misery waiting to happen actually was. It wasn't outright betrayal, it was just self preservation. Second nature to a demon. It would be unreasonable to expect otherwise.

But it didn't mean he wouldn't keep an eye on him.

"Just be careful how you phrase that to Claire," he warned. "She's very attached. Besides, what would you propose he do on meeting Lucifer? Compel him to listen to reason? Propose an armistice to buy us time to get to the weapons? Make a cage and force him into it?"

It was less the fact that Adam was an innocent child than that he was a diplomatically inexperienced child who might easily be tricked or otherwise taken advantage of that had Castiel worried. He was in large part still a pragmatist himself in emergencies. While he found it nearly impossible to refuse if family asked something unwise or unlikely of him in the name of innocents etcetera when it came to world-saving, everyone did what they could to the utmost extent that it could be done.

No war was without its casualties. People getting hurt, dead, or worse-than-dead would always be a possibility. The question was whether they were too screwed enough at the moment for it to be worth trying to find and alternate solution. And as a visitor, he really wasn't the best judge of that. He would rather hear from the resident Free Will adherent of this world's angelic society first, of course.

"And what do you suggest we do about the Almighty, as you call Him? My ministry may have grown considerably but converting Him to universal Free will would test the limits of my skill as an evangelical counselor."

[saunterdownwards]

There it was. The proverbial ruffling of an angel's feathers. Righteous indignation always served as a good balm to his ego when he felt he was becoming a bit too much like his former self. Crowley did a rather good job of hiding his smirk of satisfaction even as he held his hands up in front of himself in a sign of surrender. His expression was one of schooled indifference. "It was just a suggestion," he said smoothly as he dropped his hands back to his sides and gave a shrug. "If you lot want to wait around for Lucifer to make the first move, be my guest. That should go over swimmingly, I imagine. I'm certain he'll extend a proper invitation and won't simply lay waste to all of London or capture and murder all of us, to get the boy's attention." He couldn't sound any more sardonic if he tried.

He thought for a moment, then, not sure if he should bother to respond about how they were going to deal with God, of all things. Finally, he simply said, "As for whatever you want to call the being responsible for every bloody thing, and how we're to deal with Him, I do think that's a topic best saved for when Aziraphale is about." It was the closest he was going to get to admitting he hadn't the foggiest idea and was hoping the Principality might have a suggestion or two worth mentioning. Or maybe someone else would come up with an idea. It wasn't likely to be him, though.

"At any rate," he pressed on, "as compelling as this conversation as been, I do believe it's run its course. We can't very well plan the whole war ourselves. Too many others to take into account and, frankly, none of it matters if young Adam decides to go another route." He began to cross around his car toward the driver's side. The door swung open of its own accord and he paused, resting his forearms on the roof while looking across it to Castiel.

"I have to say, this went far better than I'd first imagined," he admitted with a teasing smirk. "I suppose I can keep my bias in check, if you can, long enough for us to help save the bloody world." He tipped his head slightly before climbing into his car and slamming the door shut. Within a few seconds, the engine was on and he was peeling away, bits of gravel and dust filling the air in his wake.