keepcruising | (no subject)

There was certainly a time when Blake didn't mind staying in Murder Village. At a point it had been just another stop on some kind of crazy journey, but these days he just wants to return back to Wonderland and avoid the damn place as much as physically possible.

When he hears Crowley's voice, he has to work hard not to sigh deeply. It's not like he's angry at Crowley. Really, he's angry at everything and everyone, especially himself. Time's supposed heal all wounds but not enough time's passed as far as he's concerned, that means people need to leave him alone.

"Guess again," he says. John lifts his old paperback with its broken spine, gives the demon a look over the top of the book, and then disappears back into the pages while chewing at a fingernail.

Crowley frowns quickly and deliberately, hoping that it hides just how much his face falls. Everything has been so up and down and between Wonderland and here, he's not even sure what the specifics of the situation are anymore.

"You told me we'd talk later, remember? It's later."

And that had been before this latest icy phase. If Crowley's done something wrong, he'd like to at least know what it is so that he can have the chance to build a defense!

"Later," he says persistently, his voice deep and firm. He hasn't had the time necessary to wade through his already-complicated feelings, let alone how he's supposed to feel about other people. It's not even a lack of trust or dedication on his part, but a defense mechanism to keep him from saying something he doesn't mean, or copping to something that might not necessarily be true.

He hasn't gotten up yet, but he's tense, like he might up and leave at any point.

"No." Tension is setting into Crowley's back now, too. This isn't fair. It's not right. Maybe patience has never been the easiest virtue for Crowley, but he's been trying and the fact that he wants to try for Blake should mean a lot. The man's slowly breaking Crowley's will.

"No, if you're angry at me, I have a right to know what I did." Isn't that the point? Hadn't Blake drilled honesty into his head? He'd yelled at Crowley for keeping secrets and lying, but now he's doing it and Crowley is, perhaps, starting to understand why Blake had gotten so angry about the blood.

"I want to know if I should be fixing something or just getting angrier at you!"

Blake narrows his eyes a little. Are those really the only two choices? He wonders if Crowley will pitch a fit if he requests space, or if it's bound to toss another cog in the works.

"Do whatever the hell you want." It's biting, but there's something else there, too. Like a caged animal, John's throwing up every warning sign he can manage. If it doesn't paint a clear picture for Crowley, then the way John works his jaw and eyes Crowley but can't seem to hold his gaze.

This isn't about them is what it should say, but John's far too guarded to let that slip (even if it's more than possible for someone to guess if they know him well enough).

Whatever he wants? Whatever he wants?! He wonders what Blake thinks he wants, because it's not as if he's ever been afraid of approaching Blake with his tail between his legs when the time comes for it. He's practically bared his throat to Blake's teeth and still here he is yet again begging for table scraps of an explanation.

"I want to figure out what's wrong!"

He takes a step closer to Blake and then thinks better of it and stays where he is.

Good. Stopping is a very good move and Blake seems to remain at about the same level as before. He runs his tongue along his teeth, behind his lips. As much as he'd like to have Crowley solve all of his problems, he knows that's not likely, especially in this situation.

"It's got nothin' to do with you," he says. It won't take Crowley much to put the rest together, he imagines, so there's a continued look of warning on his face to caution the demon on his approach.

"I don't see how you lashing out at me has nothing to do with me."

But after that, his face does soften. He takes a step towards Blake and then he lowers to his knees slowly. He hopes it's the clear sign of trust that he wants to be giving here and his voice gets low and warm.

"Darling, if you're upset, it has to do with me. I don't know why you don't seem to understand that."

Blake closes his book and drops it off to the side before crossing his arm. He actually feels a bit like punching Crowley but he holds back.

Can he not understand there are things Blake has to deal with on his own? It's not as if he wants to even talk about this, or admit there's a problem, or feel like shit. John leans forward and says lowly, "Take the hint, Crowley."

"I can't." His voice cracks and he would be embarrassed if he weren't too busy having all of his worst fears play through his mind. Everyone leaves him and once they leave, they never come back.

Any time anyone's had a choice between Crowley or Dean, they've chosen Dean and Crowley can't help but worry that that's where this is leading. Who would choose a demon over a hero? Who would even want a human Crowley? Certainly no one's wanted him up until now. His own mother walked out.

It's going to be tough to get anything past those shields. Blake's got every defense up and while it has nothing to do with Crowley, there's really no denying that it does affect him.

John turns his attention elsewhere because he can't quite take the look on Crowley's face much longer. He scratches absently at his ear and glares at the wall, his skin flush.

"Had it out with Dean." As if it was as simple as that. "It was shitty, but it was between him an' me, not me an' you." Or Crowley and Dean, for that matter.

Oh.

When Crowley lets out the breath he'd been holding, it's visible and audible. Blake is always pulling the rug out from under him and he would hate it if Blake weren't always proving Crowley's cynicism unnecessary.

"I'm sorry."

He opens his mouth and closes it several times, thinking better of at least three things. There's nothing he wants more than to touch Blake right now, but his hands hang limply at his sides.

"I hate seeing you like this."

"Then you shoulda stayed away," he replies as if it's as simple as that. But honestly, he wasn't exactly avoiding Crowley because he was upset, but more because he knew Crowley would be upset. And when that happens, he fights, and when Crowley fights, it's usually with Dean, so... Well, whatever. We all know what's possible and what probable here, don't we?

Blake finally gets up, this time to collect the book and begin straightening up the barren room. If he's busy, at least he doesn't appear as much out of sorts.

"Just need some time, that's all..." And maybe he adds that because he knows Crowley's suffering needlessly.

"Even if I stay away, I'm not stupid. I know that you're here and you're hurting and I--I would rather be here with you than not."

And if he leaves, who's to say he'll be allowed back? No one ever comes back for him. No one waits for him. He knows that.

"You can yell at me or hit me, but don't make me leave."

He's still on his knees and he thinks that's fitting, because he's not sure when it happened, but Blake has all the power here. All of it.

Blake probably knows well how much power he has here, but he's not exactly the kind of guy to use it against a person.

He pushes around some peices of scrap paper, organizing them into as neat a pile as he can manage. He feels sick and tired, sick of being tired, and tired of being sick. It's one bad combination and he feels like it's obvious he's not doing well enough to go down this road, but what the hell. Not like it'll get that much easier on its own.

"Thought about leavin', y'know. Just to— just 'cause I know what stayin' with you was gonna do to him..." He might as well be honest. "Feel like shit that I did. Feel like shit that I didn't, too."

That revelation stings more than Blake could realize, but Crowley's composure can't get much more shot than this and he just frowns more and looks at his hands.

"If you don't want to be here, then why are you?"

What's the appeal of a broken, useless demon who used to matter? He can't offer money or power and joke as he might, it's not that hard to learn to give a good blowjob.

Blake's got a pretty good handle on who's hurting and why. He wishes he could say he didn't ask for this — that things had just turned bad and it was unfortunate, but no one's fault — but in reality he asked for exactly this, right down to stab of anguish he feels deep in the pit of his stomach at the sight of Crowley coming unraveled.

He feels like this is entirely his fault. That things got messy because Blake doesn't exactly approach a relationship (or anything) like a normal human being. The sentiment he attaches to people is born of circumstance and loyalty, trust and support, not romance or the traditional notions of love. When sex enters into the equation, it's part of a physical relationship, not a key component of an emotional one. When he makes his choices, they're (generally) practical and calculated.

But there's nothing calculated about this, is there? It's messy and broken and raw and awful, and if Blake could dissolve into the dirt and return to the earth at this very moment, he'd very seriously consider it. This is different. He can't deny that. Neither of the relationships he's had since coming to this place were without emotion and that's significant. It also means its loss hits a hell of a lot harder.

Blake finds the papers twisting and crumpling in his hands before he even realizes what's happening. "Don't want you here. You shouldn't—" He falters. "Shouldn't have to deal with this." This being him, the currently shattered mess that was formerly a whole John Blake.

"That's Bullshit." He barely lets Blake finish taking before he answers. What sort of hypocritical garbage is he heading here?

"You don't get to make that call for me. Didn't we go through this a year ago? You didn't want me deciding what was best for you. Why would you do it for me?"

Blake had to see that! He had to understand that if he wanted Crowley to work so hard at this that he needed to do the same!

"I want to be here. I don't like seeing you like this but not seeing you is worse! I can take whatever you dish out. I can promise you I've had worse than you're capable of!"

Maybe it's more accurate that he doesn't want Crowley dealing with this stuff. There are times that he thinks the demon antagonizes Dean specifically because Blake still has interests in the house of Winchester, but for the most part he just thinks it's pouring salt into the wound because there's little doubt Crowley's not going to mention it at some point.

The urge to flip a table bubbles in him and he knows that the demon's right but goddamn if that's not the last thing he wants to think about right now. He can't take another hit right now. He can't get into an argument or go over details, he just can't.

"Fine." It's all he offers. The papers are set aside and he picks up his book. He doesn't have to say anything if Crowley stays, right?

The worst part of all of this is that Crowley knows that Dean thinks he's with Blake to hurt Dean and he suspects that Blake believes that to fuel Crowley, too, but he's made every effort to get along with Dean. Even outside of his concern for Blake's well-being, he and Dean work well together and he's meant everything he's said to Dean. Back in their world, Dean is the best friend he's ever had. Even in Wonderland, Blake's the only one to have him beat. He's not sure he wants to think too long on what any of this means about him.

He wants to touch Blake even more now and he's not sure when he really started to care about that sort of thing.

Pushing himself up, he steps closer slowly, as if he's approaching an angry lion. He doesn't stop until he's standing in front of Blake and he reaches out to touch Blake's jaw.

Edited 2015-01-29 02:29 (UTC)

There's a very hard edge to every bit of Blake at the moment. His jaw is tense, his posture not all that far off from that of an angry lion for that matter. He doesn't bare his teeth, but the contact feels searing against his skin and he draws in a sharp breath because of it. Simultaneously he wants to pull away and be engulfed all the same.

He knows he has to live with this. Maybe it's the penance he pays for not doing things right all this time, but he's not just hurting himself, he's hurting everyone. If he thrashed hard enough, he thinks, he'd be able to dump all three into the flames if he hasn't already.

An attempt at grinding his teeth turns into a wavering jawline and he closes his eyes against the onslaught of emotions.

Crowley can feel that tension and if he thought he could take it away, he would, but he knows that if he walks away now, it will only be to leave Blake suffering in silence. He doesn't pull his hand away, though, and it's far more tender than he tends to aim for, even with Blake.

When he moves next, it's to lean in and plant a kiss on Blake's forehead.

"I meant it, darling. If you think that yelling at me or hitting me would honestly help you, I can take it."

Ironically, he very much doubts that Blake's lashing out can touch the practiced hands of himself or Dean. Blake's talents lie in things quite a bit more morally light than torture.

"That's not what I need," he says, his voice thicker than Crowley's probably ever heard it. Blake's never been overly emotional but this hurts. Everything hurt. Even the tender touch of a man who lives his life as a demon feels like it's ten thousand knives sticking into his heart.

No, this isn't what he feels he needs because what he feels he needs is nothing. If it was all stripped away from him — every person, every accomplishment, every good deed — maybe he'd feel a bit more justified about his behavior (especially towards these two men).

"Just wanna go home."

"I know. Me, too."

It's easy to forget that he's afraid of what Blake might do in this moment. He follows his instincts and moves closer until he can wrap his arms around Blake's shoulders, loose enough that he can be fought off easily, but still present.

"I wish I could take you."

He's not even sure if Blake means Wonderland or Gotham, but if Crowley had the power, he would take Blake wherever he wanted to go. For his own peace of mind, he hopes Blake means Wonderland, because that's what Crowley means.

John's not entirely certain whether he means Wonderland or Gotham either, but he knows that he's got that "anywhere but here" feeling. If things weren't so complicated — if they didn't vacillate between Murder Village and Wonderland, it wouldn't be nearly the issue.

Despite his best efforts, John relaxes into the other man's grasp. He melts into the man's arms, dropping down to drape over his lap in a gesture that's very much a sign of trust.

Crowley's arms tighten, possessive more in a way that wants to protect more than merely claim. Blake is his. He has been for a while now and Crowley takes care of what is his. He's already watched one lover self-destruct and he's not interested in doing that again if he can help it.

"You're worth the trouble." His voice is practically a whisper, warm and free of its usual bravado. "For the record, you always have been."

It's not that Crowley isn't a fighter, but when it comes down to brass tacks, he tends to go for the easy, survivable route. Becoming King was never a risky jump, but a slowly climbed mountain. He can't say the same about Blake. Crowley's been taking leaps for him for a long time now.

He still remembers their first kiss--the real one, not anything associated with that sordid rooftop. There'd been a joke to it that he'd offered a kiss in lieu of the memory of one, but even then he hadn't really known how Blake would respond and he'd done it more for himself than for Blake.

It certainly hadn't gone well, that first kiss. And the second had been on John's terms after a lot of work on Crowley's part.

That's part of the problem, right? Crowley's just been so damn good for Blake and to Blake. Good in general. He's been helpful and shockingly caring, and while it's all a bit self-serving, he's not the first or the last person to do good with himself in mind. Sometimes it makes sense to do the selfish thing when it's also the right thing.

He curls around the contact, rests on Crowley's lap, and even if he doesn't have anything to say, he's glad for the security his demon provides.

Crowley doesn't mind the quiet, because Blake says a lot in his actions sometimes and it's more than enough right now. He shifts to best accommodate Blake, one hand going to Blake's hair to comb through it gently.

Giving comfort isn't natural for him and it isn't easy, but it's not that steep a challenge when it's for Blake. That he cares for Blake is beyond doubt. He'd admitted as much to Claire. Blake matters. He's an important part of Crowley's life now and that's not something Crowley could just walk away from without a fight.