"Everything alright, brother?" I questioned when I teleported back to the kitchen, noticing how his mood seemed even worse than when I left.
My heart skipped a beat, and I did the best I could to keep him from noticing.
"Oh. Really?" Damnit, what kind of answer is that? "What is he doing here?" Now that's better. Heavens, Sera, get it together.
"He showed up when Dean called him. They are talking in the library."
"I should go then." A curse ran through my mind. Why did I say that? "Since Dean doesn't know much about shattered angels."
"I guess you're right. Want me to start putting the table?" He offered, gesturing to the kitchen table.
"No, actually, I was thinking we could eat in the library this time."
Castiel nodded, and after leaving the paper-wrapped dinner in the table, I left the angel alone to meet Dean and Crowley.
When the demon saw me, he stood up immediately. Dean, who had his back turned to me, imitated him and followed the direction of his eyes to see me standing in the door that connected the war room with the library.
"Seraphiel," greeted Crowley.
"You're back," said Dean, "good. I was just explaining Crowley why we need more time, " he continued, in an aggressive tone.
The demon replied to him instantly, with a voice tone filled with even more anger than Dean's. "And I was just telling Squirrel tha-..."
"Good evening, Crowley," I interrupted politely, walking to them. Even when they were both standing, I sat at the opposite side of the table, in front of them, "It's good to see you."
Dean looked at me cautiously, but his expression turned to one of pure confusion when he heard Crowley's response.
"Good to see you too, darling." He sat directly in front of me, and smiled. "How's your back?"
He's really good at faking politeness , I told myself, in a desperate attempt to avoid building any kind of expectations about him.
"It's been worse. Thanks for asking," I replied. Not many people talk about it, afraid that they might overstep the boundaries, but he knew exactly how to ask about it without making it uncomfortable. Pretty impressive, I must confess. "What seems to be the issue here, then?"
"Squirrel is trying to convince me that the spell is more complex than it actually is," he explained, repressing his annoyed tone, "I don't understand why , though; or how are you related to any of this."
Dean aggressively sat on the table, trying to remind us of his presence. It didn't seem to work.
"Well, sadly, he's not lying. The spell requires a special kind of angel to perform it, and it's going to take us some time to find it."
Crowley raised his eyebrows, and straightened up in his chair.
"That's why you're here? To perform the spell?"
He sounded interested, but not in the way I was expecting him to be. It wasn't a "now we can get over with this" excitement, but more of a "isn't that dangerous" kind of worry.
"Oh, no. The spell is going to be performed on me. There was a mistake during the translation process. What we need now is a shattered angel."
"I thought those were a myth," he said, shocked.
"Well, they are not ," interrupted Dean, snapping us back to reality. Crowley looked away, nodding, as I stood up. "We'll keep you updated."
"Alright then, unless anybody wants to help me set the table, get out of here," I ordered, focusing again, "Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. Don't be late."
"He's staying?" Exclaimed Dean, as Castiel walked into the room, accompanied by Sam.
"If he wants to, yes," I said, feeling suddenly surrounded.
"I would like that," accepted Crowley. A smile grew on my face.
"He tried to kill me!" Dean argued, looking at his brother for backup.
"If I remember correctly, so did you," replied Crowley with a smirk.
"Dean, everyone in this room has tried to kill each other at least once. Your argument is invalid."
Sam, to Dean's despair, didn't seem to be able to even formulate a phrase out loud. The young hunter was shifting between panic and laughter, thing that visibly pissed his brother off.
My brother, on the other hand, was really focused on staring at me, with a confused look on his face.
"But still! Why?"
"Well, I wanted to have a 'Family Dinner' , as you call them. And as far as I understand, it is normal to have guests during those. So I think having Crowley here is a good idea."
I realized, maybe too late, that I was taking it too far.
He's being nice to me out of fear, or, a little more likely, to get me as an ally. Crowley doesn't share my feelings, and that's why there's no use in attempting to become -at least- friends with him. Especially since the Winchesters and my brother are in the middle.
Yet, no matter how much I told myself that, I just didn’t seem to be able to make my actions match my thoughts.
" A good idea -" Dean repeated, in disbelief. "Cas, back me up here."
The angel, nervous, started to shift his gaze between me and the hunter. After a couple of seconds of trying to avoid confrontation, he spoke; "I'm sorry, but I think I see Seraphiel's point, Dean. Since we're going to have to work together for more time than originally expected, it is a good idea to at least try to be on good terms."
Dean turned to see the only person who hadn't said anything so far. Sam, feeling his brother's stare, limited to shrug, and the eldest finally gave up.
"You're all insane. You know that, right?" He said, before storming off to his room.
Since it was my best option, -what else could have I done, honestly?- I chuckled. Crowley joined me. Sam murmured something about finishing his research and went behind his brother.
"What about you go get something to drink and I set the table?" I offered Castiel, who was just standing there, with no idea of what to do.
With a nod, he turned around and flew away, leaving us alone.
"I'll go get the stuff," I mumbled, doing my best to sound calm.
"Please, I'll go with you."
I smiled thankfully and led the way to the kitchen, where my friends kept their dishes.
I took out five plates and then stopped. Cas doesn't really do the whole "eating" thing. And...
"I forgot to ask, but, do you eat?" I said, looking at the demon, who waited patiently for my instructions.
"I don't need to, but I do enjoy a good dinner every once in a while. Mostly for the company," he answered, calmly, "don't worry about it, though, anything you consider good enough for yourself will suffice."
"Oh, great!" I grinned, maybe a little overexcited, but definitely ignoring the ‘company’ thing. He chuckled at my gesture, picking up the plates I had just left on the table. "Please, take those to the library, I'll take the glasses and the cutlery."
"Of course,” he said, and obeyed my request.
When I had everything I needed, I followed his steps. I found him putting a plate in front of each chair, with a relaxed smile on his face.
When he saw me, his gesture grew bigger.
"Leave those here, darling, and I'll accommodate them, so you can go and get the meal," he offered.
"Sounds great," I replied, as I did what he asked. While I was walking back to the kitchen I heard the known flutter of wings in the room I had just left.