"You are surprisingly sentimental," Michael said, tilting his head to the side as he fully focused on the demon. At first, it had been just something to distract him from his hallucinations and the pounding in his head, but now he was truly looking into Crowley, peering through the body that contained him. There was some evidence that Crowley wasn't wholly putting on an act, that he had his own pain and scars, Michael wasn't sure he liked it. It was easier for him to accept the idea that he was trying to manipulate him, to use him for his own ends or to simply keep himself safe from the wrath of heaven, rather than entertain the notion that Crowley was being genuinely friendly.
Maybe he was right about the demon being sentimental. Michael knew he still stunk of hell, that even in the cage the stench of it had slipped through and had soaked into him and his weakened grace. Maybe he was being kind because Michael reminded him of home? It was hard to say.
In any case, Crowley being his friend or manipulative foe, Michael was still shockingly candid with him.
"I don't just mean hell, either. You seem to want to cling to those Winchesters. You don't have the tangible connection to that bloodline that my brother and I do. You have the option to walk away, clearly, you tried that by coming here." He pointed out. "And you chose to continue your association once you found them here. I don't understand it. What you are coupled with your supposed over-abundance of free will, why choose to make yourself suffer? Are you seeking atonement? You will not get it from them. They are more likely to destroy you."