Gabriel was toying with him and Crowley wasn't going to stand for it; he'd had enough of being treated like an idiotic third-class citizen for having had the audacity to attempt to help in the first place.

Furious, he stepped forward, grabbed the archangel's shirt collar, and hauled him to his feet. "I haven't followed you for three days jusst to engage in casual civilities," he hissed, no longer actively tired, but dusty and travel worn. "Is he here or not?"