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It was 01:56 a.m. when the archangel finally closed the last file and decided it was pile C-worthy. She was mentally exhausted, but still determined to find something- anything , to help her friends.


Castiel had returned for more files three times during the night, and each one of those times he had found them sitting in a silence not awkward enough to be called ‘uncomfortable’. The angel didn’t say anything, even when in his head, many theories were forming, each one worse than the last.


“It seems like we’re done here.”


The demon raised his head to look at Sera, and nodded. “It seems like it,” he agreed. When the archangel stood up from her chair, he continued: “Wait, before we go to the library, there’s something I wanted to ask you...” Her eyes widened, in a fear that the demon mistook for indignation, “... If that’s okay by you.” He added, cautiously.


“Oh, uh-... Yes, of course,” Sera replied, still nervous.


Her mind was racing to conclusions that, rationally, made no sense. However, the anxiety that his words had caused in her made all of her theories sound completely realistic.


From his seat, Crowley extended his arm and reached a file on the floor. She remembered seeing him carefully drop it there, but at the time she hadn’t said anything.


“Is this yours?” He asked, as he handed the file to the archangel.


Sera opened it and started to read. When she realized what it was, her mouth fell open.


“It is.”


Unknown Journal number 243 may not sound recognizable, but when you reach the ‘contents’ part, things become much clearer.


This was her journal.


One of her journals, at least.


“How did you realize it was mine?” Sera questioned, frowning as a nostalgic smile crept into her face.


“Call it a hunch,” he replied, smirking. That was, Sera had realized, his default expression -ignoring, of course, the choleric anger that she had seen many times, although never directed to her-. “I thought you might want to re-read it when we are done, for the sake of old times.”


“Since you took the time to set the file apart...” She chuckled, “I might as well do it. Thank you.” 


He smiled proudly at her words, but replaced the sincere gesture with his known smirk before she could appreciate it.


“Library, then?”


“Library, then,” he repeated, picking up the biggest pile.



Castiel observed his sister in silence. 


The angelic beings searched through the books they had, as the demon reunited the others.


Sera’s eyes drifted almost unconsciously to Crowley, for a couple of seconds at least, and then she’d take a -silent- deep breath and continue her reading. Cas felt like he should say something; inform her of the things he had noticed, what he thought they meant, and, if given the chance, give her a few suggestions about the actions to be taken. 


However, he was not in the position to give advice: Sera was advancing more than he was, even in her distant state, so he kept himself from making a comment.


Instead, he tried to find a way to stop this- all of it, by himself. Even when he wasn’t one hundred percent sure about what exactly he was dealing with.


He was only sure of what he had seen, not only tonight, but for the past weeks. Sera was always available to help them in hunts, even the ridiculously simple ones. And she used the room the boys had set up for her more often. Or the way she was always playing devil’s advocate when it came to Crowley.


Of course, that didn’t mean anything; nothing serious, at least. He was far more puzzled by the way she acted when Crowley was around than when he was not. 


Mainly because he didn’t understand it, but also because he couldn’t even figure out exactly what was different. 


If he was honest with himself, all he really knew was that there were human emotions involved in this mess. And he did not understand those... at all.


Sera had conjured plenty of office supplies, -all of them cute and colorful- and entertained herself in drawing little hearts in the post its she later used to mark the useful information.


Even in that small gesture Castiel saw clues. Hearts were commonly used as a symbolism for love. More specifically, romantic love. Did the hearts meant something, or was she drawing them completely for aesthetic purposes?


Castiel resigned to it, he had no idea of what to do. Then, he realized the obvious solution: Dean.


Yes, that is what he would do. He was going to voice his concerns, and Dean would know how to fix this. 


He almost stood up from his chair, but then he remembered two facts: Dean was asleep, and he was an angry sleeper. 


Actually, make that three. If he woke Dean up, he’d stay up and Sera would get angry at Castiel. Castiel didn’t like to make his sister angry. She was terrifying when she was mad. 


As one angel decided to stay still, the other decided to do the exact opposite.


“I’m gonna check on the boys. Be right back, okay?”


Crowley nodded, deeply focused on his search. 


The archangel walked out of the room and Castiel saw an opportunity he would not miss.


“Crowley,” he called. The demon turned to see him, curious.


“Yes, feathers?” Crowley smirked. Castiel remembered a line from one of the movies Dean had made him watch and decided it would be fitting for the situation.


“What are your intentions with my sister, demon?” 


A grin spread through Crowley’s face, unable to help it. Someone needed to lay off the rom-coms.


“The same I have with all of you, you giraffe,” he replied when Castiel didn’t ease his cold expression, “do whatever it takes to kill Nyila and then get as far away as possible from you bunch. In case you haven’t noticed, you are bad luck to the people around you.”


Cas opened his mouth to respond, but he had to close it again because, like it or not, the demon had a point. Still...


“I don’t believe you.”


“Well, shame,” mocked Crowley, “I’m not that interested in having you trust me.”




Both men turned to see the archangel, who had just walked in and watched them disappointed.


“What are you arguing about?”


“Nothing.” “You.”


They traded angry looks, one more embarrassed than the other.


“Explain,” she commanded.


“I don’t understand his behavior towards you, and when I confronted him, he pretended not to know what I was talking about.”


Her mind was cooler now, and she was able to see that the best option was to simply ignore that statement.


“Please don’t fight. We are supposed to be a team, and confrontation doesn’t help.”


After a second of hesitation and a pair of eyerolls, Crowley spoke.


“I'll do my best.”


Castiel’s gaze turned to her, quizzical. He had noticed the way she had dodged the subject. There was something definitely going on. 


“Thank you.” Sera looked at her brother, trying to read him. Castiel seemed resigned. “The Winchesters are sleeping and well, if you care. Shall we get back to work?”



When Crowley finally sat on the table, the clock marked 04:12 am. He felt pretty tempted to drive himself off a cliff, now that he had to do some actual reading, but he realized that, as much as the angels shared his exhaustion, a vocal reminder of that wasn’t going to help. 


When the demon realized that he had just decided to save his snarky comment for the sake of the archangel, he nearly falls of his chair. If he continued down this road, it wouldn’t be long until he had no other option but to accept the fact that had f-...


Crowley shot up from his seat. “I’d like some coffee. Anyone wants a cup?” 


“Yes, please. Three of sugar.”


He may be ready to accept it soon , but definitely not now .


He walked out of the library with a frown on his face.