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For once, Crowley's actually thankful to show up in murder village. It's quiet enough that it must be one of those between times and that's just fine with him, because that means Blake is around here somewhere and they can have that conversation that Blake seems intent on avoiding.

When he does happen on Blake, he puts on a big, fake smile, because it's never in his favor to wear his heart on his sleeve, shriveled as it is.

"There you are, darling!"

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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.

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