Who wants to write this Drowley fic for/with me? :p
Crowley: What rubbish is that? We don’t try to see the good in each other. We never have. That’s the whole point of us, Squirrel. I looked for the very worst in you, trying to convince myself that you were not so wholesome you couldn’t accept me. You looked for yourself in me, and you’ve never had a very high opinion of him.
See, I understand you Dean Winchester; understand you in a way Sam and Castiel can’t. All they see is the good in you. The bad? It’s situational, they say. It’s fleeting. It’s negligent. But I know better. I know that the bad is such a large part of you--such a persistent part--that you feel like a fraud when they pat you on the back and call you a hero. And it eats you up inside. You don’t need someone to see the good in you. I’m not saying it’s not there. Bloody hell, is it ever there. But what you need is someone to acknowledge the bad and accept the whole of you. That’s where I come in. That’s what I’m for.
Dean: You may be right. But that’s not what you need. Damn it, there’s good in you Crowley. No, listen. I see it. I tried not to for a long time, but I see it, and you need to, too. So do they. You may be a son of a bitch, but you were there for me at times when I needed you, times when you didn’t have to be, when it wasn’t in your best interest. We’ve got a word for that around here. We call it family. You’ve saved all our asses, collectively and individually, at some point. Whatever you’ve done, whatever you’re capable of, you love us--and don’t try to bullshit your way out of it. You do. And if you can love, there’s hope for you. If you can love me, knowing what’s inside of me, by god, I sure as hell better love you back. That’s your problem. Your whole life, no one’s ever loved you. Hell, it’s no wonder you turned out like you did. I can only imagine how I’d have turned out if not for Dad, if not for Sam and Cas. And Hell, they’ve gone darkside themselves. Not a one of us has any room to talk about who deserves redemption and who doesn’t. Cas unleashed the Leviathans. After playing God for a few weeks. Heaven’s being lit by fucking candles right now because he killed so many angels. I killed Death itself. Sam released the fucking Darkness. We broke the Universe. We’re all fuck ups, but we all look out for each other. They point me back at the straight and narrow when I stray, and they remind me why I try to walk it. And I can be that for you, Crowley...if you want me to be.