"…Stay,” Crowley spoke. With every second of silence that passed, he found it harder to keep himself composed. He wasn’t even trying to keep an air of nonchalance anymore.

“Stay,” he begged in a whisper. His voice cracked and trembled pathetically.

Why? Why did it have to be so quiet? He wanted to reach out, but he somehow restrained himself. Watching. Waiting. Silently begging for a response. For a promise that they wouldn’t do something so stupid as running off to Heaven.