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Crowley was trying. He really was. But, as it turns out, it’s a bit difficult to make up for years of torture and wrongdoing – especially when you’re trying to get into the Winchesters’ good graces. Hell, he didn’t even care if they came to like him; he just wished they’d quit being so damn apathetic to his existence.
The tension in the bunker was as thick as could be, given that Cas was still missing and its only inhabitants were the two hunters, a prophet whom Crowley himself had orphaned, and the repentant King of Hell. Not knowing what else to do with him, the brothers begrudgingly brought Crowley to the bunker after the incompletion of the final trial. Once they arrived, however, Crowley was on his own. The other three barely looked at him since they’d been back, let alone actually speaking to him.
All Crowley wanted to do was prove he had changed for the better, but nothing seemed to help. He’d even made Dean a pie. Fucking pie for crying out loud. And Dean had thrown it away. The whole thing. He’d thought that the pie would have worked, and even Sam seemed genuinely surprised when he walked into the kitchen to see the elder brother scooping the pastry into the garbage can. Fergus got the message loud and clear: Dean was a lost cause. He wasn’t convinced of Sam and Kevin’s willpower, however. Though not necessarily less determined, the two seemed more likely to at least consider some sort of apology. After all, Sam had told him the pie looked delicious. He hadn’t eaten any, understanding it was a gesture performed specifically with Dean in mind, but at least he’d acknowledged it.
Anyway, the failure of the pie was how Crowley found himself in the kitchen at approximately 8:32 AM a few days later, standing over a griddle with a bowl of pancake batter to his right. If fucking teddy bear pancakes didn’t work, he was well and truly fucked as far as ideas went. They were freaking teddy bears. Who doesn’t like teddy bears? They were adorable, if he did say so himself. The bacon and eggs had finished and the syrup was on the table. Now someone just had to stumble upon his latest attempt at penance.
He was flipping the last batch of pancakes when Sam and Kevin wandered through, probably under the impression Dean was attempting breakfast again.
“Teddy bears? Really?” Sam stood there, looking back and forth between the platter and Crowley a few times before shrugging and sitting down to eat. Kevin was slower to accept the offering, staring at Crowley with a creased brow for a bit before taking a seat and reluctantly accepting a plate.
“They’re better than the eggs Dean burned to oblivion yesterday, so just eat.” Though neither of the boys replied, Crowley took their indulgence as a small victory. Dean never emerged from his bedroom, but he left a plate for the man at the table before returning to his own room.
A couple hours later, upon hearing the clattering of dishes being put away, Crowley made his way into the kitchen to find Dean placing his now-clean dish in the cupboard. The hunter said nothing, but offered a small nod before hunching his shoulders and leaving the room.
The garbage can was empty. Crowley smiled.