Chapter 10 –Theory-crafting:

"I don't see any groceries!" Dean called when Harry rushed into the house, almost bumping into him in the hallway.

"I'll get them tomorrow," he tossed back. "Where's Sam?"

"Outside. Why?"

"Can you grab him? I need to talk to both of you."

Dean stared, mildly off-kilter from Harry's anxious energy.

"Sure. Must've been one hell of a shopping trip."

Yeah, Harry thought, fighting back a tiny wave of hysteria, yeah you could call it that.

While Dean was gone he took several slow, deep breaths to recentre himself. He was probably going to sound a little crazy already just explaining what had happened; he didn't need to make it worse by letting the nerves win.

I wish Hermione was here.

Unfortunately he didn't have the power to just snap himself over to England and hurry her along, so the least he could do in the meantime was attempt to put together something coherent for her to pick apart later.

A hand on his shoulder startled him from his still-racing thoughts. He glanced back, and then up, to meet Sam's questioning gaze.

"You good?"

There was no good answer to that question in the moment. Harry patted his hand in a way that clearly wasn't reassuring at all going by Sam's little frown, and asked instead "Can one of you call Bobby?"

Mentioning Bobby automatically had the brothers suspicious - there was no way this was a casual chat. Dean fished around for his phone, not bothering to ask questions.

"Harry?"

"In a minute, okay Sam?"

He didn't mean to be dismissive but there was just no point explaining himself twice in a row.

For better or worse all three of them were used to situations like this, so Sam didn't protest further.

Castiel should probably know about this at some point, but he wasn't exactly an idea man, and Harry didn't feel like handling the inevitable sniping in a conversation with both Castiel and Crowley present more often than absolutely necessary. That could be a problem for another day.

Speaking of Crowley though, he did in fact need to be involved.

Once all the phone calls had been made and the three of them were seated in the living room, phones on the coffee table, Harry awkwardly began his explanation.

"So… I, uh, kind of got. Kidnapped? At the store earlier." He hurriedly tacked on an unhelpful, "Briefly."

Bobby swore, the force of it crackling over the line. "Was it one of them feathery bastards? Or are those boot-licker demons acting out again?"

"Demons will always be doing demon stuff," Harry protested automatically, overshadowing Crowley's complaints about phrasing.

Sam grasped one of his hands, giving it a warning squeeze as Dean piped in.

"That is so not the point."

"Just answer the damn question kid."

Harry had spent way less time around Bobby than the brothers, but certainly long enough to know not to mess around when he pulled out the stern voice.

"It wasn't nota demon," he hedged, trying to think of the best angle to approach it from. "Crowley, do you know anything about the first demons?"

Silence, for a moment. When he spoke it lacked most of his usual flippancy.

"Why do I get the feeling you're asking something outrageous? We can talk about Lilith all you want but it's all old news at this point. I doubt you're picking now of all times to ask after old Lucifer either - although you could start a war debating whether he counts as a demon at all. What are you really asking me?"

That tracked with Dantalion's little speech, unfortunately.

Harry was super glad he'd decided against calling Castiel down for this. He did not fancy being the one to talk creation with an angel right now.

"Okay, well… Long story short, turns out you guys are kind of second tier demons? And there are ancient secretive elder demons?"

"What."

The 'so confused it was a statement and not a question' energy was exactly how Harry also felt about this whole situation.

"That's not actually the important part."

"Not important my ass," Crowley grumbled.

"The important part is that's who kidnapped. Um. Borrowed? Me? Had a discussion with me against my will?"

"Kidnapped works fine," Sam muttered darkly at the same time that Bobby cried "Quit arguing the semantics kid."

"Right. Anyway. Most of it is super not important." Outside of giving Crowley a potential existential crisis, that is. "But he did say one very important thing. About the final seal."

"Not sure I buy it." Dean tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair, agitated. "Guy kidnaps you to offer advice?"

"To be cryptic and mysterious," Harry corrected absently.

Explaining why he believed Dantalion was telling the truth and not just messing around or trying to muddy the waters would be… time-consuming, especially since all of them - Crowley included - were highly sceptical about things like 'demonic good will' and freely offered information. For good reason of course, but it was a debate he wasn't in the right head-space for yet.

"We got enough cryptic and mysterious from Castiel's version. You're telling me this guy knows how to make sense?"

"Surprisingly, yes. It's not that Lilith will break the seal, but that Lilith is the seal."

Crowley laughed, half amused half tired.

"Killing herself in service to her Lord? Sounds like something she'd do."

"You don't know that's what he meant." Bobby interjected. "That's still vague, open to interpretation. He say anything else?"

"No, Crowley's right, more or less. I don't think she can actually do it herself, because that doesn't have any ritualistic meaning. I think it has to be a human who kills her. And, given the way everything else has gone up until now, even if it doesn't need to be any particular person, she's going to want it to be a Winchester. Hell, now that I'm thinking about it that's probably why Ruby had that damned knife in the first place! But even if we don't helpfully fall into her trap it would be simple enough to find some random person to do it instead."

Dean stomped his foot with a heartfelt "Fuck!"

"That…" Sam sighed. "That's helpful in that it gives us direction, but…"

"But how do you stop something from dying, preferably forever? Yeah, not exactly the easiest problem to solve."

"If it were easy we could just torture ol' Tommy for info, but clearly that whole immortality shtick isn't working out in your neck of the woods either. Not that his ridiculous soul-splitting plan is something you could trick someone into doing in the first place. Hell, being a demon is about as immortal as you can get already! Anyone considered asking the man upstairs real nice-like if he'll consider putting off the Apocalypse for a few hundred more years?"

"If God," Dean pulled a face like he couldn't believe, even after all the angels, that he would ever be talking about capital G God in a serious sense, "Was open to suggestions we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with. He doesn't seem the type to go 'oh I know I'm the one who wrote the rules for this scenario but it's been a few thousand years since then and maybe I should rethink it'."

"Don't let Castiel hear you say that."

"Say it to his face," Crowley countered.

"Don't start," Bobby growled, unafraid to use his lecturing adult tone on even a demon. "God ain't never helped us before, there's no point pondering on it now."

"Fine." Crowley was definitely rolling his eyes. "If we're not even going to entertain the idea of divine intervention then I can't say I have any ideas. It's easy for demons to stay alive - for a given definition of 'alive' - but if you want to die? Well that's easy enough too."

"And we can't just ask her all nice-like to reconsider since she's obsessed with Lucifer."

Harry nodded along, feeling immensely justified in his earlier private panic.

"We're not going to miraculously find the answer today," Sam calmly reminded everyone. "The important thing is to make it our focus going forward. Dean can explain the situation to Castiel, and we'll tell Hermione when she gets back, and we'll figure something out. Together."

"Ugh, spare me the togetherness spiel," Crowley grumbled. "But you're right that this little conference isn't going to solve anything. Apparently I now have research to do, so I'm leaving before you all try and get any more emotional."

And just like that he hung up.

"Good riddance."

That was a now-common response to any dealings Bobby was forced to endure with Crowley, especially when he said things Bobby reluctantly agreed with.

"But you're right Sam. We can bash our heads against the wall all day but it won't suddenly solve anything. Can't say this has been a pleasant turn of events, but it's finally given us something specific to focus on. Take a breather, readjust, then we get back to doing what we always do."

"Man, the world better stop ending sometime soon so I can go back to doing hunts that don't require a year's worth of research first. Think I might have to quit if this becomes the new normal."

Sparked by Dean's half-joking complaint the three fell into some more light-hearted banter, trying to shake off the doom and gloom vibe that had fallen over everyone thanks to the new information.

Instead of joining in Harry simply leaned further into Sam's side, letting their voices wash over him. The one-two combo of his sort-of kidnapping and having to be the bearer of semi-good semi-bad news was mentally exhausting, and he sort of just wanted to go take a nap.

Bobby was right. Rest, recuperate, readjust.

Hitting the books could wait until tomorrow.