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Attachment: [Jubilee.txt]

Change the warding on the house to allow for Gabriel's entry.

I will be there within the hour.

[The warding is changed first, upon receiving the text; it's a strange request and he's briefly concerned there's an emergency of some sort. But Crowley would have told him more were there, or Gabriel would have contacted him himself, so though he does quickly modify the warding it's without particular concern.

It's only after that that he plays back the conversation, and... He wasn't really expecting that. Any of that. When Crowley comes home, he'll find Castiel on the couch with the dogs, staring off into space while he thinks, oddly calm instead of surely more expected fury.]

[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.

And, sure enough -- ]

Please tell me you didn't use blood.

[Castiel glances up at the dog's signal, hands stilling from where he'd been petting Abaddon who was curled up in his lap--the puppy whines at the sudden loss of attention--and isn't surprised when Crowley suddenly appears.

Castiel can't read most people well. But Crowley isn't 'most people' and Castiel actually knows the demon about as much as he knows anyone, and he can read him, at least a little; he can tell he's angry. Truly angry, and Castiel assumes it has to do with the conversation with Jubilee, but he isn't totally sure and so it's unsettling.

But at the question, he shakes his head. Castiel has little to no desire anymore to use blood for things that don't strictly require it, uninterested in cutting open his arm or losing blood even now that he no longer needs it to survive.]

Chalk.

Excellent.

[It's said in a murmur -- a far cry from the usual pomp and circumstance. And the demon hesitates for a moment or two before moving to a chair, to sit in it, though he sits on the very edge, as if he's going to get up again.

Growley immediately shifts to slide off the couch, to rest her head in his lap, but he doesn't pet her, not yet.]

-- sometimes I wonder whether or not obtaining a conscience was a good thing.

[It's said ruefully -- and finally, Crowley gives in and pets his dog.]

[Castiel watches him, frowning slightly, set on edge by the demon being so. But that comment is completely unexpected, and Castiel doesn't know what to say; he understands the issues brought on by having a conscience, certainly, but Castiel has also learned to repress his. He's had to in order to fight a war against his own family.]

Why?

[It's all he can think to say, because he doesn't know what else to say.]

Because I should have just killed them all when I had the opportunity and I didn't.

[Because Crowley had a point to prove -- he was better than they were. And now he sees that the point is entirely lost on individuals who think themselves better than beings who have walked the earth for far longer than they've been alive.]

Killing them would have likely been pointless. And knowing that Michael is involved with my brothers in some manner makes it fortunate we didn't decide to harm him or any of the others.

[Because the archangels, who Michael had fled to hide behind, were indeed not individuals Castiel felt like angering just for revenge.]

I doubt Michael and Lucifer will be pleased to know they've been protecting these insects.

[He stritches Growley's ears, which produces a soft growling of appreciation.]

Lucifer hates humans. He likely has some plan for them, and while Michael can be benevolent, he is also probably doing this for some ulterior motive.

[In other words, no, they probably wouldn't be pleased, but they probably already know and have some other use for them. Neither of them would suffer arrogant, self-righteous humans for long otherwise.]

They aren't humans, they're mutants.

[It's corrected with a sneer, as Crowley finally sinks back into his chair, relaxing for the first time all day.]

That's why they're so angry, because no one understands their pain.

[Growley immediately scoots forward to rest her head on his lap again, but Crowley is angry again, and sinks further into his chair, fuming.]

They wouldn't last one fucking week in Hell.

[Castiel relaxes a little as Crowley does, just faintly amused by the scathing response. That's more like Crowley.]

They understand nothing of our world, and yet they have involved themselves with some of the most dangerous beings from it.

[Castiel clearly has about the same opinion of their intelligence and survival skills as the demon does. But he's quiet a moment before suddenly changing the subject.]

I don't understand how it is my fault he could not handle the consequences of his actions. I was merciful, even.

[He didn't even touch Michael, let alone do any severe damage or kill him.]

[Crowley is about to launch into another diatribe of how completely stupid they are when Castiel suddenly changes the subject.

The demon frowns slightly before rolling his eyes.]

It's not your fault. They're looking for someone to blame and you're the one who told them the truth they're so desperately trying to ignore.

He's terrified of you, go lurk outside his window or something as revenge.

[He feels slightly reassured--Crowley wouldn't tell him it wasn't his fault if it is, and in fact, he'd even spoken to him seriously instead of making a flippant comment--and that last comment was oddly amusing.]

I should allow Lucifer to invite me to their house.

[Not that he ever truly would go there and be stuck in a place with Michael, Michael, and Lucifer, but still.]

[Crowley gives him a flat look before he continues to pet his dog.]

He told me that you could have the right to kill him, but I couldn't. When I first returned.

Asshole.

That makes no sense.

[Really, what is that logic even? What right does Michael think he has, anyway, designating such a thing?]

[Crowley considers that for a moment before he points at himself.]

Scum-sucking demonic whore from Hell that is a very bad man who does nothing but evil, evil, evil things.

[Crowley points at Castiel.]

Wondrous angel of the Lord that does nothing but good things and protects Heaven and fights for the people and is bright and shiny and full of God.

[Crowley then points out the window.]

Stupid devout Jew that believes he's damned that doesn't know the fucking Old Testament from reality despite the fact that he survived the fucking Holocaust, which is one of the largest examples of God not giving a flying fuck about his little darling creations in written human history.

What part of any piece of his logic makes any sense.

[The demon sinks further into his massive chair. He's not sulking. At all.]

[Castiel considers that all for several seconds before giving a small sigh and the answer that's expected.]

None.

[The whole thing is messed up and stupid and Castiel wants to poke holes in Michael's logic and just flat out rage at him until he got it through his head that he'd done something wrong. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't even if he hadn't agreed to Crowley's request that he do nothing, and even if he wasn't barred from it by his deal with Lucifer, because he didn't really want to deal with it. Michael was just another in a long list of people whose thinking was so far off base Castiel can't deal with it in any way but to consider him an enemy and be done.

He realizes, with a small lurch of his vessel's stomach, that he becomes the same thing to his friends in just a few short days at home.]

Edited 2012-04-15 18:19 (UTC)

Why are you depressed?

[His lips quirk into a lazy smirk, almost inquisitive.]

Opinions of individuals that don't understand the mechanics of a situation don't matter. Let them fizzle out and die and you'll be all the more informed for it.

It isn't as if you've committed the wrongs that have lead to this discussion. So cease the melancholia.

I haven't committed these wrongs. But I will do worse.

[He admits it mostly because Crowley asked, and not only that, but is trying to cheer him up. It prompts him to feel able to answer the question truthfully.]

You will.

[It's said evenly.]

But you hardly did so with poor intentions.

Intentions matter little, in the end.

[Especially when you release ancient monsters upon all your former friends.]

Intentions dictate how you're remembered.

[Coolly.]

They mean everything.

Do the Winchesters remember me as anything but their enemy?

[He says it while staring off to the side, at the floor, but then he looks up and at Crowley.]

Is that why you still speak to me?

[Does Crowley of all people remember him for his intentions, rather than what he becomes?]

On the contrary. They're quite furious with me for getting you killed.

[Crowley doesn't know this for certain, but it certainly won't help his attitude to hear anything else.

And he's just ignoring that second stupid question because it's stupid.]

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ofthursday - 2012-04-20 06:07 (UTC) - Expand

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