23. Addict Anonymous

"Come on, Crowley," Dean says. "Pick up! Where the hell is he? It's not like he's got a social life."

"Are you actually worried?" I ask, leaning over Sam's shoulder. We're in the library of the bunker, and Sam and I have been researching Cain and Abel. We haven't forgotten the lovely mark that Cain decided to hand over to our big brother. "I mean, I barely know the guy, and you don't see me stalking him with voicemails."

"Guy's got one job—find the First Blade, bring it back. How hard is that?" Dean continues to pace with his phone.

"It's Crowley," Sam reminds our brother. "He's not exactly a team player."

"Yeah, but his ass is on the line, too. He goes missing for weeks on end without a peep? Well, not one that makes sense, anyway. Listen to this." Dean puts his phone on the table and puts the volume on speaker.

"Dean," says the British tone. "Um..." The rest none of us can really comprehend. It's...I don't know what it is. Gibberish, maybe.

"Wait a second," says Sam. "Did he...drunk-dial you?"

Dean picks up his phone again and tries Crowley's number. "Son of a bitch."

"Oh, you poor unfortunate soul," I tell Dean dramatically. "Do you really think you're a priority to him? He doesn't seem like the buddy type."

"Not to mention he's the King of Hell," Sam emphasizes.

"Wait. You mean to tell me that I met the King of Hell?"

Sam looks at me. "I thought you knew that?"

"Nobody told me! But he doesn't seem like a king to me." I scoff. "Guess human blood has something to do with that?" I look at Dean, annoyed. "Are you gonna give up on the phone or not? It's obvious he doesn't want to talk. Whatever he's doing must be of higher importance."

"Then what do you suggest, sis?" Dean snaps. "You want us to just road trip and hope we find him?"

"I'm suggesting we don't call him anymore, because that's clearly not working. I'm open to other ideas."

"We trap a demon and hope it sings?"

"There's the chance they wouldn't know where Crowley's been or what he's been up to."

"Dean's idea might not be so bad," Sam voices. "I mean, we don't have to physically run to catch one. We summon it to us."

I swallow, eyeing my little brother. "Summon a demon?"

"It wouldn't be our first time doing it, Jo."

* * *

"You guys have done this often?" I ask my brothers.

We're out in the night, at a crossroads. Dean is spray-painting a Devil's trap while Sam is burying a container of the ritual items necessary. I begin to imagine why my brothers have needed to summon a demon. That can range from anything to anything, with their lives.

"More than we'd like to admit," Sam says. I step into the trap, avoiding the fresh, red paint. "Let's hope you never have to do one, Jo."

"Let's hope," I murmur, crossing my arms.

As Dean finishes the trap, Sam finishes burying the items. We're all side by side, with me in the middle.

"All right, do it," says Dean.

"Daemon, esto subject voluntati meae."

Nothing comes in front of us. I frown. We all look around, and what my eyes see makes me think I'm seeing things.

Our crossroads demon is none other than Snooki from Jersey Shore.

I always hated that show with a burning passion. Guess I have more of a reason to hate it now. I wonder how many of the cast are really demons.

"Winchesters," she says. Her eyes are completely red, making me take a step back. Is she including me in this mix? "Well, now I've seen everything. Rumor was going around there was another Winchester topside. I didn't want to believe it. They're right; you look like your mother."

"I-is that, uh...?" Sam asks.

"Well, that explains a lot," says Dean.

"Okay, uh, look...Snooki—can I call you 'Snooki'?"

"No. It's Nicole now," says Snooki. I don't care what she says; she was Snooki when I first saw her on the show, so she's staying that way.

"Okay, then. Nicole...We can do this one of two ways. The easy way—you talk. Or the easier way"—Sam pulls out a knife—"you still talk."

"I vote for number two," I say. "We just want some basic information on Crowley. That's it."

"Google him," Snooki sasses. "Are we done?" Sam tries to go towards her with a knife. "Whoa! Not the face! Are you crazy? Listen, guys, what happens in Hell stays in Hell. I got nothin'."

"But you do have a pretty sweet deal with Crowley in charge," says Dean. "If Abaddon wins, you can kiss all that goodbye—"

"—all the fancy cars, the book deals," I add on.

"Show biz can be tough."

"I'm doing fine," Snooki says. "Thanks."

"Oh. Well, good luck landing your next gig inside a Devil's Trap."

Snooki sighs. "What do you want to know?"

"Where is Crowley?" Sam asks her.

"Last time I heard, he was somewhere in the western Pacific."

"Makes sense."

"Really? Floating around in the ocean while his kingdom goes up in flames?"

"Meaning?" I ask curiously.

"Hell's gettin' crazy. Even the loyalists want to sign on with Abaddon. She's gonna make her move." She looks at us impatiently. "Are we done? I got a thing."

My brothers and I exchange a look.

"Do the honors, sis," Dean tells me.

I look to Snooki. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus..."

"Seriously? An exorcism?" Snooki exclaims. "We had a deal!"

I snort. "See ya, Snooks."

* * *

With Snooki being of no help to us, we're back in the bunker. Dean's disappeared somewhere, so Sam and I have been back to our research on Cain and this Mark, and anything related. I'm skimming through books, thumbing the pages. I blink my eyes as they dry. My ears pick up Dean entering the library.

"Hey," Sam says. "So...Cain said the First Blade was tossed into the deepest ocean, right? That's the Mariana Trench. Maybe Crowley found it, and it's a double-cross."

"That doesn't make sense," says Dean. I look up from the book I'm unsuccessfully reading. "He wants me to power it up and kill the ginger. Abaddon," he adds when I give him a strange look. "He set it up."

"Okay. A-assuming he does show up with it, Crowley is only useful to us until we have the Blade."

"Yeah. So?"

"So...There's nothing stopping us from using it on him, right?"

"Nothing at all." A phone rings. "Speak of the devil." Dean answers. "Did you find the First Blade?"

"Not exactly," I hear faintly from the phone.

"Well, then, what, exactly?"

"I'm in...a jam of sorts. Thought you might help."

I ignore the rest of the conversation as I shelf the book I tried reading through.

"What's so bad that the King of Hell requires hunters' assistance?" I ask the minute Dean ends the call.

"He wouldn't say. Come on, let's pack up and go."

"Do you even know where we're going?"

"He gave me the location."

"What if it's a trap?"

"That's why we're bringing weapons, Jo. Never go anywhere unprepared."

"Don't remind me." That was something Dad always drilled into my head, on top of always watching over Sam, even if Dean was around too. Sam was always to be looked out for, no matter what, no matter how old he got or how strong he got.

Sam shuts the lid of his laptop down, and the three of us quickly head out to track down the King of Hell.

* * *

We're not greeted by Crowley when we break into his room. Instead, we find a lavish room with a dead body on the floor.

"Still think this isn't a trap, Dean?" I ask, nudging the body with my toe. It doesn't move. "Where's the man of the hour anyway?"

"Not here, apparently," says Sam. "Just means we'll have to wait until he comes back."

"You think he fled?"

"He wouldn't have asked for our help if that was his plan."

"I don't know. I don't know him that well, but I don't think I wouldn't put it past Crowley to pull a stunt like that."

The three of us wait in silence for a little bit until the door is unlocked. And let me tell you, the Crowley I met is not the Crowley I'm seeing now. He seems different, not as put-together as before. There's something off about him. Maybe it's got something to do with that paper bag he's got in his hand. Alcohol?

"Hello, boys," he grunts. "And Josette. I see we decided to stick around some."

I give him a hard glare and cross my arms. I nod down towards the dead body I'm next to and prod its foot. "What do you call this?"

"Refreshments?"

"What's in the bag, Crowley?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Maybe I can, uh..." I snatch the bag from Crowley and tear it open. I look at the demon questioningly. Instead of booze, Crowley's carrying a bag of AB negative blood. The hell?

"What, are you knocking over blood banks?" asks Sam. I grab Crowley's arm and throw him in the direction of my brothers. Dean swings a chair around, and he and Sam shove Crowley into it before cuffing him to it.

"Come on, guys," Crowley groans.

"Look at you," Dean snaps. "You're a mess. You know, we were counting on you. You let us down."

"Your slimy followers were counting on you to kill Abaddon, and you let them down," Sam takes his turn.

"The man with all the mojo—Captain Evil."

"Oh, it's pathetic."

"What is this?" Crowley demands. "An intervention?"

"Welcome to AA—Addict Anonymous," I say bluntly.

"You need to focus, Crowley," says Sam. "Get a grip!"

"What, are you just gonna let Hell go to Hell?" asks Dean.

"You don't know what it's like to be human!" Crowley shouts. It takes all my restrain to not lash out at him. Did he seriously just tell that to humans? "It's your DNA. It's my addiction, my cross, my burden!"

"All right, take it easy," I say warningly.

"I see the darkness of it now, the Anthony Weiner of it. It makes you needy. I needed her. Lola used me. She reported everything I did back to Abaddon."

"Crowley...Did you tell her about the First Blade?" Sam asks.

"I don't know. Things get a trifle blurry when I'm medicated."

"Great," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose. "If he told Lola, she definitely told Abaddon. Which most likely means that Abaddon's in the hunt for this thing, too."

"All right, you know what?" says Dean. "This crap ends now. You're cut off. Okay? Kicking it. Cold turkey."

"And how are we gonna make sure that stays that way?"

Dean looks at me. "You're probably not gonna like what I'm about to suggest, Jo."

"I'm probably not, but tell me anyway."

"We gotta take him back with us."

I rub my face. "Son of a bitch." I sigh. "Fine." As Sam and Dean get Crowley cuffed, I throw the blood bag away. I watch Crowley as he watches the bag go into the trash. "I'm not gonna sneak it to you, if that's what you're thinking. Cold turkey means cold turkey."

Crowley glares at me. "You're no fun either, just like your brothers."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I joke bitterly. "Come on, time to get you clean, Your Majesty."

**Before anyone points it out: yes, I know what "AA" means. Jo was obviously making a quip/joke.**