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The Bible explained it as “God’s will,” and though very few people accepted the Bible literally in this enlightened day and age, no one had been able to come up with a better explanation after centuries of trying. You were born with the first words your Soulmate would say to you tattooed on your right inner wrist and that was just the way it was—and always had been.
Sam Winchester poked at his tattoo periodically and wondered why anyone would ever say, “So, the Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough.” Clearly his brother, Dean, would be present at the time, as the reference to the Hardy Boys alluded to books about two brothers who ran around having adventures and solving crimes. Sam wasn’t quite sure how he felt about his brother being present for such a significant moment, but it didn’t seem that there was any other way to interpret that particular comment.
The brothers stood on opposite sides of the Soulmate issue. Dean thought it was preposterous that anyone would say “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition” to him under any circumstances, and he professed not to care that it would probably never happen for him. Sam, on the other hand, believed wholeheartedly in the process, and despite the odd comment written on his own wrist, he was sure that one day it would happen.
Well, in spite of his doubts, Dean found his Soulmate. And his Soulmate was an angel named Castiel—a real angel, feathery wings and all! Sam was left feeling like a third wheel, but after a few hunting trips during which he was relegated to the back seat so Cas could sit next to Dean up front, he needed more legroom so badly that he threatened to get his own car. Cas assured them that he was fine riding in the back, so at least Sam was able to continue riding shotgun.
Encouraged by Cas and Dean’s experience, Sam settled in to wait patiently for the time to come when he would be able to welcome his own Soulmate with open arms.
*****
The demon who called himself Crowley took the body of a moderately successful New York literary agent as his meatsuit because he saw the words “It’s Crowley, right?” tattooed on the man’s inner right wrist. The agent was definitely not named Crowley, which is exactly what caught the demon’s notice. The minute Crowley saw the tattoo, he felt the words meant he would have a Soulmate eventually—and that the words on the agent’s (now his) wrist would be key to being recognized by this kindred spirit. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but one dares to dream! It was quite an impulsive decision, and afterwards he rather wished his meatsuit had a better head of hair and had been maybe just a bit taller (and, once he discovered French fries dipped in mayonnaise, that its metabolism would perhaps burn calories at a quicker rate), but he was unable to resist once he noticed the words on the guy’s wrist. Even though he may not have ever admitted it to himself before, the wrist tattoo made him realize after centuries how badly he wanted a Soulmate, how he yearned for someone to love him.
He'd heard the words "It's Crowley, right?" more than once in the years since, but he never got an unmistakable reaction to whatever it was he happened to reply. So, he waited.
*****
Somewhat ironically, it was Sam’s annoying superfan, Becky, who started Sam on the way to meeting his Soulmate, when she informed him that a very special weapon he and Dean had been looking for was in the possession of a demon named Crowley. So Sam and Dean went searching for him. He turned out to be living in a mansion bristling with high-tech security; nevertheless, the brothers managed to get in. Once inside they found a beautiful rug in the corridor near the entrance and spray-painted a devil’s trap on the backing, figuring that once he realized they were there, Crowley would have to step on the rug as he came down the corridor towards them. This he did almost immediately after they cut the power to the mansion. The demon was brandishing the exact weapon that Sam and Dean had been searching for, an antique Colt revolver rumored to be able to kill almost anything in creation.
Sam looked at him, unimpressed—he was not particularly prepossessing for a demon—and said, “It’s Crowley, right?”
In a slightly annoying Cockney accent Crowley replied, “So, the Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough.”
There was a moment of shocked silence, during which Sam’s eyes flicked involuntarily to his wrist for a split second. “No!”
And Dean said, “Oh HELL no!”
Immediately grasping the significance of the telltale glance Sam had shot at his wrist, Crowley started forward eagerly, but even in the dark, the sharp-eyed demon noticed a tiny wrinkle in the rug and bent down to investigate. Finding the devil’s trap spray-painted underneath, he said indignantly, “Do you have any idea what this rug cost? If you weren’t my Soulmate, Sam Winchester, I’d vaporize you and your brother both!”
“Your Soulmate? No, no, no,” Sam said, shaking his head emphatically. In fact, Sam and Dean were so distracted by the very idea that two demons were able to sneak up and grab them from behind.
Crowley shot each demon point-blank in the head with the Colt. When the brothers stared at him stunned amazement, he said, “We need to talk. Privately.” He led them through the dark into his office and slammed the door shut behind them with a wave of his hand. The room was softly lit by a large candelabra.
“Why did you kill your own demons?” Dean asked.
“Not sure I’m ready for Hell to know that my Soulmate is a Winchester,” Crowley replied.
“There’s nothing for Hell to know, because he’s not,” Dean said firmly.
Crowley smirked. He unbuttoned his right cuff, rolled up the sleeve a bit, and held up his arm, wrist out. The words “It’s Crowley, right?” were tattooed there, just visible in the soft candlelight. Sam made his bitchiest bitchface and Dean said, “Dammit!” while Crowley ran his eyes up and down Sam’s body, looking absolutely delighted.
The demon pulled a small pouch out of an inner pocket, then placed the Colt and the pouch on the office desk. To Dean he said, “Here’s the Colt, here’s some ammo; take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face.” Then he strode up to Sam, and although he barely came up to Sam’s shoulders, it was clear he was not in the least intimidated by his Soulmate’s size. Before anyone could react, he put his hands on Sam’s hips and they were gone.
“Sam! Crowley! SON OF A BITCH!” Dean roared.
*****
Seconds later, Sam and Crowley materialized…somewhere else. Sam looked around wildly, pulling out the demon blade and waving it right in Crowley’s face. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
Crowley took a hasty step back and held out his hands in a placating manner. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Samantha, I’m not going to do anything that will upset your delicate sensibilities. I just need to talk to you without your brother around.”
“Wh-where are we?” It looked to Sam like they were literally nowhere, surrounded by nothing but...nothingness.
“Let’s just say you won’t be able to get home easily from here if you decide to walk out on me, and that’s assuming you can even find the way out. You’re going to need me to give you a lift home, so we might as well talk about this Soulmate business first.”
“There is absolutely nothing to talk about. We are NOT Soulmates,” Sam said stubbornly.
“The tattoo on my wrist says otherwise,” Crowley pointed out.
“You probably materialized it there with a spell or something when you saw my reaction to your words,” Sam scoffed.
“I assure you, I did not.You know as well as I do what happens to anyone who gets too close to the Winchesters. Do you think I would actually volunteer for that to happen to me?”
“Oh, well, good; it sounds like you don’t really want to be my Soulmate anyway. We’re done here, so where’s the door?” Sam turned away from Crowley, but the demon reached out and grabbed at his arm.
“No, no, stop. That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s not? Because that’s exactly what it sounded like.” Sam glared down at Crowley’s hand on his arm, and Crowley let him go.
“We’re the real deal, there’s no getting around that. But it struck me just then that it could be plain dangerous to my health to have Sam Winchester as my Soulmate. You have a lousy track record when it comes to serious relationships.” Crowley didn’t sound worried, just matter-of-fact.
“What would you know about that?” Sam demanded.
“Don’t be naive, Sam. All demonkind has been watching you since you were born. And, my, what a show you put on! Very entertaining, though perhaps that’s not so much how your romantic partners felt before they expired.”
Sam glared. “Well, you won’t have to worry about death by Winchester, because you’re not my Soulmate. I’m sure my Soulmate is a woman.”
“I’ll bet Dean thought the same thing until he met his angel. Now that was major news around the dimensions! Tell me, though, are you more upset that I am male, or that I’m a demon?”
Sam didn’t have to think about that at all. “A demon. I hate demons.”
“Ah, but I’m not just any demon; I’m King o’ the Crossroads,” Crowley said proudly.
“Oh sure, that makes it so much better,” Sam said sarcastically. “Hey, wait a minute, Dean and I have both had plenty of dealings with crossroads demons, but if you’re supposed to be in charge there, how come we’ve never heard of you?”
“Well, you wouldn’t expect any demon to seal the deal with a kiss and then backtrack, ‘I have to run this contract by my boss before it’s officially official.’ I okayed all the crossroads deals and kept the contracts on file.”
“Then why did Lilith have Dean’s contract?” Sam wondered suspiciously.
“Lilith wanted it, and she outranked me. I wasn’t going to fight her for it, was I, not even for a contract on one of THE Winchesters.”
“Well, that’s all completely beside the point. I doubt demons can have Soulmates—do they even have souls?” Sam asked sarcastically.
“That’s a matter for debate. But why couldn’t a demon have a Soulmate? Dean’s Soulmate is an angel, and angels really don’t have souls. Besides, everyone knows that angels are hypocritical dicks. At least I have a little something called integrity.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
Crowley was starting to wish that he’d picked a destination that had whiskey. Lots and lots of whiskey. “You say you’re more upset about my being a demon than a man, so how do you explain Ruby?”
Sam said heatedly, “Ruby tricked me into thinking I was doing something good, but she was just using me to free Lucifer.”
“And Lilith?” Crowley asked archly.
“That was all on Lilith’s side. She didn’t really want me, I was just the closest she was ever going to come to being with Lucifer, because she knew she was going to have to die in order for him to escape the cage.”
Suddenly Sam’s eyes widened as the significance of his own words hit him. “Wait, is THAT why you want me to think that we’re Soulmates? Because I’m supposed to end up being Lucifer’s vessel and you want an ‘in’ with him?”
It wasn’t easy, but Crowley managed to ignore Sam’s double entendre and stay on topic. “Oh please, I hate the bastard. I’ll be cheering you on from the sidelines when you kill him.”
When Sam looked skeptical, Crowley continued, “Why do you think I was waiting for the two of you to show up? It was so that I could give you the Colt! And it took you bloody long enough to find me! But once I realized you and I were Soulmates, that took precedence over the Colt as far as I was concerned. I had to talk to you.” The demon sighed. “Sam, please believe me, I had no idea who my Soulmate was going to be when I…acquired…my meatsuit. This,” Crowley touched his Soulmate tattoo, “has nothing to do with anything or anyone else but the two of us.”
Sam had been looking around surreptitiously for an exit and found nothing. Finally accepting that he wasn’t going anywhere without Crowley’s help, he decided to put the knife away and try to figure out what the demon was really up to. Because there just had to be an angle. “The two of us, huh? Yeah, what about you, Crowley? How do you feel about having a male Soulmate?”
Crowley suppressed a snicker. Probably best that Sam knew nothing about the wide variety of his checkered sexual history. “I never really cared who I was with—until now, Sam.”
He sounded sincere, but he was a demon after all, and sincerity was his stock in trade. Sam didn’t know what to think. “I don’t know, Crowley. You could tell me anything and it would sound true, but I’m sure you’re just as slimy and conniving as any other demon I’ve ever dealt with. Maybe more.”
“I’m growing on you, aren’t I?” Crowley asked with a smirk.
Sam rolled his eyes. “Dream on,” he replied snidely.
“So you’re not even willing to consider that we might be Soulmates in spite of our tattoos?” The demon actually looked dejected.
With Crowley’s habitual smug smile wiped from his face, Sam suddenly saw him as someone who had once been human and obviously still related to his human past in some way. It appeared the demon was attempting to make a genuine connection, but Sam hadn’t wanted to see it before. He felt completely wrong-footed.
“Why is this so important to you?” he asked in gentler tones. “I can’t even imagine a demon giving a damn about such things.”
In that moment, Crowley knew what he had to do to convince Sam of his sincerity. Sam was earnest and kindhearted, and by making jokes and challenging each of Sam’s objections, Crowley hadn’t taken Sam’s nature into account at all. So he spoke the words out loud that had taken him hundreds of years to admit to himself. His voice shook a little as he bared his heart to his Soulmate. “Don’t we all—you, me— deserve to be loved? I deserve to be loved. I just want to be loved. I want to be loved by you, my Soulmate. And I will still love you no matter what you decide.” This was it. If Sam didn’t believe him now, it was all over; he would lose his one chance at real love forever.
But Sam did believe him. There was no deceit in Crowley’s face or voice. The words actually made Sam’s knees go a bit weak.
And Crowley saw it. The corners of his eyes relaxed and the tight line of his mouth softened marginally. He reached a hand up, up, up to the back of Sam’s head and pulled him down for a kiss. It was just a gentle touch of lips, though the demon had to fight off the urge to do so much more. When they parted, Sam reached out a hand and stroked Crowley’s smooth-shaven cheek, and Crowley sighed in relief. “I hope you’ve run out of excuses, and we can get on with admitting that we are Soulmates!”
“So, I waited my whole life to meet my Soulmate, and it’s a demon?” Sam asked, still a bit stunned by the revelation.
“Sam, I waited 350 years and apparently I have been paired with a moose! But do you hear me complaining? No, you do not.” Definitely not. Not even a little.
Chuckling, Sam gathered Crowley into his arms and held him tightly. The demon placed his hands on Sam’s hips and said, “We can go back now.” His last thought before they blinked out was to hope that Sam would be able to keep Dean from killing him on the spot when they rematerialized.