Necessary Evil

“You’ve been out for a long time.” The voice is familiar, but you can’t quite place it.

You turn your head, then push yourself up. Then you spot her. She stands a few feet away with her hands tucked into her pockets, leaning against the trunk of a giant oak tree. Her brown leather jacket moves with the slight touch of wind.

“To be honest, I thought we’d lost you,” she says.

“...Billie,” you say. What’s going on?

“Glad to have you back, boss.” She straightens up and takes a few steps toward you. “What do you remember?”

You blink and shake your head. Think... Think... The images come to you in flashes and are too quick and abrupt to make much sense of.

“Do you know who you are?”

You furrow your brow as you watch the grass bending to the breeze. Who am I? You remember a coffee shop and a tall, quiet man. He smiles at you. “Sam,” you whisper, and everything rushes back all at once like a runaway freight train. A trail of ice drags down your spine: Amara. Your eyes widen and dart to your friend. Your ally. Your confidant.

“The Darkness is no longer a threat.”

You nod. Then you shake your head. “What? How?”

“Like I said, you’ve been out for a long time. Had she not been distracted by our friends Upstairs, I wouldn’t have been able to get you out of there in time.”

“So they did it? They killed her?”

Billie smiles. “No. That first smiting weakened her, but she recovered. Long story short, your boys found God and talked Him into confronting her. You wouldn’t have believed it; God,” she says in a way that emphasizes the incredulity after all this time, “the witch, Crowley, Lucifer, the Angels - for a fleeting wink in time, they were allies. The most powerful witches on Earth tried to destroy her and failed. Demons banded together to attack her - and they failed, too. The Angels smote again, but all they did was weaken her again. In the end, she couldn’t be destroyed.” She shakes her head and a smile plays on her lips. “But Dean Winchester... Dean saved the day.”

Dean. Dean! “How?”

“Even I don’t know the answer to that. But you’ll be happy to know that I helped him.” She crosses her arms. “So, why’d you do it? Why did you go after her? You had to know you were out of your league.”

Processing everything, you take a deep breath and look around you. Surrounded by grassy hills and patches of trees with not a house or car or telephone pole in sight, you remember that moment like it had just happened not five minutes ago. “I had to try.”

“I just don’t understand. You risked eternity for a shot in the dark?”

You shrug. “What’s eternity when the world is ending?”

She studies your face. “That’s not it.”

You relive the crushing realization that Dean would one day leave his life on Earth. His soul would move on to Heaven (you’d make sure of that), but you would remain, because your place is here, now. The thought of eternity without Dean was so much worse than perishing at the hand of the Darkness. “I couldn’t stand waiting around for Amara to just end everything.” And now, because Billie intervened, you’re destined to the fate you tried to avoid.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” she says, placing her hand on your arm.

You’re suddenly standing in the middle of a busy street. You are unnoticed as traffic zooms by and preoccupied people walk up and down the sidewalks. Buildings tower above all around you.

“Here he comes,” Billie says, and you follow her gaze up the sidewalk.

Your eyes land on an older man in a sport jacket and faded jeans walking down the sidewalk with a backpack slung over one shoulder. His salt and pepper hair is cropped short, revealing the earbuds plugged into his ears. He checks his watch and cuts through the other pedestrians into a coffee shop housed in the bottom floor of some corporate office building. “Who’s that?”

“Kellan Byrne. My old friend, your predecessor, considered him as well.”

“You mean for...”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You watch the entrance of the coffee shop. “Why did you bring me here?”

“If you’re truly considering walking away, and if you find a way to do it, he would be the next in line. He would take your place.”

Your heart flips. “Billie...”

“He has a family: two little boys that look just like their mother. One just turned four and the other will be five next month. They just adopted a puppy two days ago; a Kuvaz. The boys named him Spiderman.”

You turn back just as Mr. Kellan Byrne emerges from the cozy little coffee shop in the middle of the bustling city with a steaming paper cup in his hand.

“This decision doesn’t just affect you.”

“Crikey,” the demon king says when you appear before him. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” He smooths his tie. Crowley’s surly voice grates on your nerves.

“I need a favor,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “But I refuse to make a deal. So if you can’t help me, just say so now.” His lair is dark and crawling with bad vibes, but you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t think he could help.

“Don’t know what kind of deal I could make with Death,” he says, scrutinizing you. “What could Death possibly want from me?”

“Information.”

“About?”

“Passing the torch.”

He chuckles, buttoning his jacket. “You almost had me there. Very funny.”

Your stare quiets him.

“You’re serious.” He picks up the crystal decanter on the bar and pops the top off, and you can tell the gears are turning in his head. “Fancy a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

He tips the decanter, clinking the glass as he pours the amber liquid. “I must say, I’ve grown quite fond of our partnership. I think we work quite well together.”

“You’re a necessary evil.”

He freezes for a moment, then replaces the top and gently sets the decanter back on the bar. He picks up the glass and gives it a little swirl. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.”

“If you can’t help me-”

“Can’t? There isn’t much the King of Hell can’t do, love.” His mouth and nose disappear behind his glass, and you see the fire swell in his eyes. He swallows his swig and waves his glass at you. “Of course I can.”

“Then, will you?”

Crowley saunters quietly back to his throne. Looking right at you as he sits, he chews on his bottom lip. “What’s your plan?”

“Why?”

“Well, we still need Death, don’t we?”

“Wasn’t it you who knew all about me before I did? Aren’t you the one who knew exactly how I ended up here?”

He nods and takes another swig. “I am.”

“Then you know that others were considered.”

“Several others. As fate had it, you’re the one Dean Winchester - he who hath slain Death - kissed. So unless you have a plan to send Dean out on a mission to kiss the other contenders, and something tells me that’s the last thing you want, I’m not sure what you’re asking for.”

That old familiar tingle returns. If he doesn’t know anything about Kellan Byrne, you are determined to keep it that way. “How. I’m asking how. If there’s a way...” You sigh. “This was stupid. I shouldn’t have come.”

“If anyone can find the answers you’re looking for, I’d place my bets on Sam Winchester,” he says, tilting his glass once more before you leave his dark, haunting chamber.