[He doesn't know if he wants to shout, scream, or cry. Some amalgam of it all lodges like an ice shard in his chest. He wraps him tightly in his arms and that warm glow of love while calming himself down enough to speak in a way that won't frighten him or overwhelm him further.

His eyes sting fiercely. The only thing keeping that in check is that he doesn't want Crowley feeling like he has to comfort him. He's got this. He is a bloody Angel of the Lord, and he has got this.]

She valued obedience.

[He can't keep all the thickness out of his voice, and maybe that's OK. He shouldn't be able to be completely calm in the face of that. It's a disservice to both of them.]

And you weren't. Crowley, that was the whole of it. The whole of it.

[So maybe he doesn't totally have this. Hot tears spill. He turns his head a little so they won't splash on him.]

I don't need or want your blasted obedience. I never have. I have only ever wanted who you are. Even when you've infuriated me. I already understand what She demanded. And I swear to you... I swear it. It has nothing to do with your value and less than nothing to do with how I feel about you. How could it? I've only ever really known you like this. Only loved you like this.

[His chest hitches with an unwelcome spasm. He grits his teeth against it, but it's no use.]

I would bleed myself dry of ever drop of grace if that was something I could get you to see. Just once. Just bloody once.