Dean played darts while Crowley and Destiny sat watching. Suddenly, Crowley's phone rang and he glanced at it in surprise before answering.

"You're dead," he said.

Destiny pretended to be focused on Dean as she listened to Crowley's side of the conversation with interest.

"Moose. Took you long enough. Your brother and I were beginning to wonder if you'd hit another dog. You know?"

Destiny perked up slightly at the use of Crowley's nickname for Dean's brother, slightly confused what him hitting a dog had to do with anything.

"Moose. Moose," Crowley chuckled. "I'm afraid you haven't allowed yourself to dream quite big enough here. Your brother is very much alive, curtesy of the Mark. And the only demonized soul inside of Dean is his, and his alone. Wee bit more twisted, a little more mangled beyond human recognition, but, I can assure you, all his. There now. Feel better?"

There was another bit of silence as Dean's brother spoke on the other end.

"If that's what you think is happening, then you're more out of your depths than I thought," Crowley said, glancing over at Dean and then Destiny.

She really wished she could hear what was being said on the other end of the line.

"You know what really tickles me about all this?" Crowley leaned back in his chair. "It's what's really eating you up. You don't care that he's a demon. Heck, you've been a demon. We've all been demons! No, it's that he's with me and he's having the time of his life. You can't stand the fact that he's mine."

Destiny furrowed her brow, considering the King of Hell's words. Was Dean really Crowley's? It was true, the pair had been together since Dean had turned, but things had changed since she had been added to the group.

"Well, that's the operative phrase, isn't it? 'Find you.' Good luck with that."

Crowley hung up the phone then, glancing over at Destiny again before going back to staring at Dean.

"You sent those demons to kill me?"

"To keep you sharp."

"What about the ones that went after her?"

Destiny shifted on her barstool beside Dean.

"They were supposed to go for you. It's not my fault they strayed a little bit," Crowley shrugged.

"Really?" Dean sounded skeptical.

"If it wasn't for me throwing demon chum your way, what do you think would've happened? The Mark needs to be sated... Otherwise..."

"Otherwise, I turn into a demon. Yeah, yeah, I sorta got that six weeks ago."

"Just trying to help."

"You lied."

"Who do you think you're talking to here? Does the tin man have a sheet-metal Willy? Of course I lied."

"Okay," Dean stood up.

Destiny followed suit, as Crowley protested.

"Hey, sit down, sit."

Dean gave him a withering look, refusing to comply.

"I needed to keep you sharp for our future, about which we need to talk," Crowley insisted.

"Our future?" Dean repeated.

"Our professional future," the King of Hell stressed. "How to put this? If I have to spend one more night in this fetid petri dish of broken dreams and B.O., I will cut off my own face."

Destiny snorted and Crowley glared at her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean said, sitting back down. "'Cause I'm good. Hell I'm great."

He gave Destiny a wink and she felt her cheeks get warm as she leaned back against the counter.

"Really?" Crowley demanded. "How many suicide wings can you eat? How many one-hit wonders can you karaoke to death?"

"Okay, see, the deal was we howl at the moon-- no time stamp, no expiration date."

"We've howled. We've bayed. We've done extraordinary things to triplets, all of which have been massively entertaining."

Destiny cocked her head as Crowley continued.

"I will treasure our Flickr albums forever. But now it's time to accept what we are and go back to work."

"Pass," Dean dismissed, standing back up.

"Think of it-- the King of Hell, Dean Winchester by his side. Together we rule. Together we create the perfect Hell. And all this that's bloomed between us never ends. We're not ending the party, we're just moving the party. Out with the club circuit, in with the stadium tour. Of course, you'll have to ditch the girl. Oh, and did I forget to mention I spoke to Moose earlier?"

"What?"

"Yes. Uh, apparently, he's been tracking us for some time now. He got my text from the cell of that demon you stabbed in blah, blah, blah. It was-- words were spoken-- emotions... I realize, in retrospect, perhaps too many words, too many emotions."

"He traced the call," Destiny realized.

"My bad," Crowley shrugged. "I guess he'll be here by morning-- at the latest."

"You sold me out," Dean growled. "Well, that's just lovely."

"I don't know what's going on with you," Crowley sighed. "I truly don't. But I've had just about enough of it. Sold you out? Try 'doing you a favor'. Everything I've done in the past six months-- the Mark, the First Blade, midwifing you back to life, offering you a seat by my side-- has been a favor, a gift, whether you see it or you don't. Take the night. Decide. You know where to find me."

With that, Crowley exited the bar, leaving Dean standing there with Destiny.

"So... now what?" she inquired.

They ended up skipping town. Dean left an open tab for his brother and he and Destiny ditched out as fast as the Impala could carry them. They had left behind Destiny's backpack and basically everything else but their phones.

"Hey, Dean?" Destiny finally broke the silence.

He only grunted in response, eyes glued to the road in front of him.

"We can't really escape Crowley, can we? I mean, he's the King of Hell... won't he send more demons after us?"

"He can do whatever the hell he damn well pleases," Dean growled. "We'll be ready for anything that comes our way."

"Wait, does that mean...?"

"We only really got through the basics. I think you should know a bit more if we're really doing this."

Destiny grinned in her seat, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Dean's cheek before climbing into the backseat and curling up to sleep while he drove.