[There are maybe three things that actually, legitimately anger Crowley -- the demon that was actually in fairly good control of his anger. After all, he hadn't snapped and killed Magneto yet, had he? No -- he had kept to himself, planned carefully, let it go. Even the things that truly angered him -- the sense of betrayal left by Lilith and Castiel, the near destruction of their world, Lucifer's uselessness -- those were all wounds that could be healed, so long as no one brought them up to his face.
But none of them even measured up to the rage brought on by the idea that some miserable pathetic mortal piece of shit dared to think she knew them. That Magneto knew them. That they, in their insignificant short little lives, could psychoanalyze them and think they could outsmart the archangels of Heaven and the demons of Hell. That they were better than they were, when they were nothing but humans with special fucking powers. Humans with a genetic mutation. They would all rot in graves just the same and at the end of the day, Crowley would claim their useless fucking souls, the brats.
And so, Crowley had casually blown up a car in a SERO owned parking lot a good sixteen times after finally leaving it perfectly restored again. He had crossed the entire city six times. He left Gabriel a text message of the conversation. And he, finally, had texted Castiel.
By the time he finally comes home, the demon is in control and calm again, but just so -- and though the door never opened, his Hellhound immediately perks her ears at something and snuffles Castiel's coat, in order to inform him that her master was home.
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But none of them even measured up to the rage brought on by the idea that some miserable pathetic mortal piece of shit dared to think she knew them. That Magneto knew them. That they, in their insignificant short little lives, could psychoanalyze them and think they could outsmart the archangels of Heaven and the demons of Hell. That they were better than they were, when they were nothing but humans with special fucking powers. Humans with a genetic mutation. They would all rot in graves just the same and at the end of the day, Crowley would claim their useless fucking souls, the brats.
And so, Crowley had casually blown up a car in a SERO owned parking lot a good sixteen times after finally leaving it perfectly restored again. He had crossed the entire city six times. He left Gabriel a text message of the conversation. And he, finally, had texted Castiel.
By the time he finally comes home, the demon is in control and calm again, but just so -- and though the door never opened, his Hellhound immediately perks her ears at something and snuffles Castiel's coat, in order to inform him that her master was home.
And, sure enough -- ]
Please tell me you didn't use blood.