Author's Note: School is on break, that means doing things I enjoy can start again. Yay!
The four men were currently all leaning on the top of the Impala. Castiel had eaten all of his kiwis, managing to accomplish this using one of the utensils that had been provided for Sam's salad, none of the other men commented on his systematic devouring of the small fruits. He'd also eaten a small amount of the food that they'd provided, noting that while Dean ate with his normal vigor, the other two men actually ingested little.
He felt much better in the clothes that actually fit properly. Unfortunately, he had not caught on that Crowley had purchased rather dark clothing. Out of the three outfits, everything was grey, red, or black. Castiel had chosen a black tee-shirt that Crowley had insisted was supposed to be that tight across the chest, and some grey jeans from his very monochromatic options. He glanced over, and realized that he was basically given the same clothing options that Crowley had. The toppled king was wearing black jeans and a black button up, and it was certainly appeared less formal than the suits that Castiel had gotten used to. He has also gotten significantly quieter. Perhaps it is the humanization of his soul, perhaps he actually feels the guilt of his deeds… and is compelled to be more introspective. Or perhaps he is just plotting. That is the most likely option.
The argument that was happening between the Winchesters cut into Castiel's thoughts, and he shared a weary glance with Crowley. The former demon rubbed his eyes and raised a hand in silent defeat.
"I'm tellin' you, we'll get another hunter up there." Dean retorted to Sam, regurgitating the same thing he had been saying for the last five minutes.
Sam rolled his shoulders, taking advantage of their short rest, the last before they arrived at Amelia's house. "We're the closest in the area. It should be a simple salt and burn, we'll be back by tomorrow."
"Moosey's got a point, this is a milk run. Ten hours, twelve, if we take our time. So, since you've got boy-band here, maybe I can borrow the gangly fellow without you feeling too lonesome." Crowley cut in, his dark eyes darting between the two brothers and challenging them to argue with him.
Sam rubbed his hands down his face. "If you're really still this freaked out by me not being on the top of my game, and left in the hands of—"
"Don't you dare finish that sentence-" Dean held up his finger, and then slowly pointed it at Crowley, "-Because he'll have somethin' nasty to say and I am not in the mood for that naughty-talk crap."
Crowley looked surprised, as if the accusation was completely out of the realm of possibility. But then a flare of anger sparked in his eyes, and Castiel watched as his mood visibly turned. "If I was gonna turn on you two, don't you bloody well think I might have done it by now? So shut your gob, dredge some trust out of that blackened crusty thing you call a soul, and get your brother off the leash." Crowley whipped the door to the Impala open, and climbed into his seat in the back.
"I have to agree with the… angry Scottish former demon-king." Castiel admitted, and popped his door open as well and climbed in.
He settled in, and turned to see that Crowley had a smirk on his face. He then turned to look at Cas. "They'll see things my way. Trust me, they huff and puff a while more, but they're so easily manipulated it's almost not enjoyable."
A few moments later, Sam and Dean got into the car. Sam swiveled to look into the back seat as Dean pulled out from the parking spot. "We'll be at the Novak's in an hour. You might want to call and let Amelia know we're close, and that you and Dean'll be there soon."