Crowley was right: it had been quite some time since he'd seen him. He was still tiny the last time he'd been around enough for Crowley to have any sort of memories of him. One thing was for sure, though: Sunny had adored the kid. He was smart, sweet, and funny in a very unique kind of way. When he'd heard the news of his brother and the loss of his sister-in-law, he knew he needed to go back.
He would've stayed longer if Crowley's father hadn't, essentially, pushed him to leave. Maybe, at the time, his brother thought that he could handle it on his own better. Or was trying to be strong for his son. Maybe Sunny should've tried harder than just taken his brother's word for it. Didn't matter, though. He was here now. That had to count for something, right?
Granted, with Crowley being 18, it wasn't like he was needed for much other than to be a warm body and around. It was the least he could do. He just hoped that they managed to make it work.
When he arrived, he only rang the doorbell because a) he knew the kid was home and b) his arms were full of stuff. He had, after all, grown up in the house and, aside from the decor, he still had his key. It was, after all, still Sunny's home, too. His brother was a good man like that. So, when Crowley offered him the key, his first instinct was to say: "Don't worry about it. Already got a copy." Instead, though, he merely offered him a small smile and a nod as he placed his boxes on the ground and took the keys.
"Thanks," he said. It didn't hurt to have a spare, right? "I don't have much stuff. Generally pack light."