Winston: Carlyle you are like, my bestest friend that always looks out for me and is suuuper nice and kind and and and i don’t wanna see you sad! sooo no matter how many cakes it takes to make you happy again, i will bake them allll!! promise just don’t be sad!!
Carlyle: Ha… um.. that’s sweet. Thank you. You… you really are a good friend too.
Winston: youknowit!!! >:D i’m always gonna be here for my friends!!!
Carlyle: .. T-Thank you Winston… that’s… that’s what I needed to hear.
Winston: :D *huuugs* it’ll be okay!!! whatever is bothering you!! it’ll be okay!!
You were packing your clothes into your suitcase when Crowley walked in without knocking. His eyes followed you for a moment. You were wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and your hair was up in a loose ponytail. Finally, he spoke up. “Please…”
Stopping, you looked over at him. “Don’t.” You told him, putting the shirts that were in your hands into your suitcase. “You got your wish. You got her pregnant.” Turning, you went back to what you were doing. “I’ll be going to a lawyer first thing Monday morning.”
Crowley couldn’t take his eyes off of you. How could he have done this to you? He would likely be celebrating you getting pregnant around now if he hadn’t have been so stupid. You told him that you’d been about to tell him you wanted a family with him, that you were ready. And he’d thrown that all away. Licking his lips, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wish you’d talk to me.”
He shut your door and stepped forward. “I haven’t been with her since that night. I promise you that. I’m always here, with you. I have been doing everything I can to bloody fix this. I was a moron, I see this.” Crowley told you, sounding more sincere than ever. “Her being pregnant doesn’t change that. I still want this. I want us.”
You shook your head, crossing your arms and looking at him. “You think that makes this easier?” You asked. “You really think that I want to keep seeing her? Because she’s having your kid, Crowley. That would be unavoidable. Birthdays, holidays, school shit. She would be a constant presence in your life. I’d never, ever be able to stop worrying.” At least you were being honest about your reasoning. “I’d never be able to let my guard down, and I can’t live like that.”
“What do I need to do to prove that there’s no chance of me being with her again?” He asked.
“Nothing.” You sighed. “There’s nothing you can do.” It hurt, it was like finding them all over again. “Clearly you enjoyed sleeping with her. You’re getting your family.” Your chest clenched. “I’m not sure why you married me, Crowley, if…if you couldn’t even be faithful. If you didn’t love me, why bother?”
He moved and cupped your face. “I love you with every ounce of my being.” His eyes locked with yours. “Isn’t that enough?”
It had been five years since Crowley last saw you. The day that you’d found out about the other woman being pregnant. The day that you refused to try anymore. He was now a single father to a four and a half year old little boy. When his mother realized that he had no intentions of making her queen, she walked out, having no desire to be a mother in the long run. Not if she wasn’t getting what she felt she was due.
He’d heard through the grapevine that about six months after you left, that Dean Winchester was dead. He had no feelings one way or the other about his death. On the one hand, they had some fun together, and he’d been an ally once or twice through the years. On the other, he’d found him in bed with you. A small part of him was envious of whoever managed to get their hands on the hunter.
“Daddy!” His son’s voice broke him from his thoughts, making him look down. “I’m hungry.” He stated simply.
Crowley gave him a small smile, and nodded. “Let’s get something for lunch, shall we?” He motioned down the street where there was a sign for a diner. “How does pizza sound?”
His son’s face lit up. “Can we get extra cheese and pepperoni?”
“Of course we can. Share a chocolate milkshake, as well?” He asked as they made their way down the sidewalk. Despite the ache he still felt at the loss of you, and his marriage, Donovan was able to brighten his day no matter what. He was a good kid, but it was clear that he was the Prince of Hell. He’d gone through six nannies in his short life span already. They either quit, went missing, or Donovan got a bit short with them.
He held the door open for Donovan and followed him inside moments later. Just as they sat, he heard a laugh that he thought he’d never hear again. Swallowing, he glanced to where it was coming from. Just two tables away he saw you, fawning over a little boy about the age of three, and clearly pregnant. He saw no one with you, but judging by the second drink, and plate, your company was elsewhere. Your left was to him, and he saw the jewelry on your finger, worsening the pain in his chest.