Perception

Crowley, The All-Knowing

"Hello, boys."

Crowley stood in the center of the Devil's trap Bobby had drawn onto his basement floor. He kicked at the concrete disdainfully, scowling at the Winchesters irritably. "What on Earth could you want me for this time?" he asked with a grimace.

Dean rolled his eyes and glared back, in the customary way one looks at a demon. "We've got a question, Lucky."

Crowley grinned. "Oh, you remembered my little nickname! How thoughtful of you, Squirrel. I expected less of you." He turned to Sam. "And how are you, Jolly Green? Towering over us all, as usual, eh? Wonderful."

Dean rolled his eyes. "We don't have
time for this." He looked up the stairs. "GET DOWN HERE!"

There was the sound of calm, light footsteps and a heavier set following behind. A thump resounded down the stairs before Castiel appeared, with Bobby coming up behind him, looking inquisitively at Dean before turning his gaze to Crowley.

"Oh," he started. "Is this the," he brought his fingers up in quotations, "'smimey demon bastard' you told me about?"

Crowley - who had been studying his nails disinterestedly - looked up at Dean and grinned. "'Smimey'? Why Squirrel, I'm rubbing off on- Oh. Oh!" Crowley started laughing when he looked at Castiel, doubling over and grasping his plump belly. "Oh bloody hell! This is good. This is great."

Sam glanced at Castiel warily, who looked to Dean with a burning curiosity. Dean just raised his eyebrows at the laughing demon.

Crowley wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, Castiel. Of course, you ended up with these blokes. I should've known." He waved a hand around vaguely. "It was predestined, or something equally as ridiculous." He paused. "Ineffable, as an old friend would say."

Dean's gaze hardened, and Sam shifted he footing. "And what does that mean?" mused Sam.

"Ineffable? I thought you were smarter than that, Samantha, I really did."

"Oh shut up, Crowley," Bobby muttered, frowning (as per usual).

Crowley's face lit up. "Oh, sweetheart! How are you? Come to check up on little ol' me, hey?"

"Can I shoot him?"

"Not yet," said Dean. "But hold that thought." He stepped closer to the Devil's trap. "What do you mean by all that?"

Crowley smiled amusedly and gestured to Dean's left shoulder. "Lift your sleeve, mate. Let Cassie touch it."

Before anyone could protest, Castiel stepped forward and pressed a hand to Dean's marred skin. Dean's eyes widened and an embarrassing squeak pushed past his lips as he flinched away. Castiel held his hand to his chest and stared at the Winchester in confusion.

Crowley was looked content. "Now, let Gigantor touch it."

Dean tried to shove Sam away, but Sam was bigger, and had longer arms. When he touched the handprint, Dean didn't feel anything but the warm touch of his brother's hand.

Crowley had the expression of a job well done. "Now, will you morons let me go?"

...

"This doesn't make any sense," whined Dean, rubbing his shoulder. "I've been out of the Pit for eight months, he's been in the hospital for seven years!"

Sam glanced up from one of Bobby's books. "I don't know, Dean. We can't find anything."

Dean grimaced and looked back at Castiel, who had been studying his hand on Bobby's couch since they left the basement. There were times when Dean could see him staring at him, his expression crumbling by the second. Then he'd look back down with a renewed determination and run his hand over the other again.

It was admirable, really.

...

"Hello, Gabriel."

"Why, what brings this pleasure?"

Crowley sniggered and rubbed his stubble. "You should go visit the Winchesters, old friend."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and grinned. "And why should I trust you?"
The demon raised his hands in surrender and tried to smother his giggles. "You won't regret it, I swear."

"Really?" Gabriel chuckled. "Will I get to see Samwich in a thong, or something to that effect?"

"Just do it, Trickster. You'll thank me later."

...

AN - Geezus, I love Crowley. Not what he does, but just him as a person/demon/Mark.