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Crowley narrowly escapes with his life, feelings still askew and blood still on his clothes, but he is out and with luck the Winchesters won't find him. Once he gets clothes, he decides that laying low is his best option. He's still got places only he knows about. He can hide from them and Abaddon and anyone else.

It's by chance that he spots Castiel not far from the small town where house number four resides, wandering down the street like a little street urchin.

Against his better judgment, he pulls over immediately ahead of Castiel and jumps out of the car. He'd heard Dean praying to him. He knows that Cas isn't answering the phone.

"Where have you been in all of this?"

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Castiel remembers nothing. Not who he is, not where he is, not why he's walking down this road. It's as if he didn't exist until someone set him down on this road and set him to walking. He's aware of his feet being sore; he's aware of being hungry, maybe of being tired, but nothing else.

The car that pulls over in front of him has him on edge, and he stops when the person gets out and seems to be accusing Castiel of something.

"I don't know what you mean."

Oh. Well that's not concerning at all.

"... Castiel?" Could it be his empty vessel? Crowley's powers are slowly returning and Cas looks dim, but it's hard to tell if that's him or Cas.

Castiel frowns, his head tilting slightly.

"Is... that a name?"

"Are you not Castiel?" He moves closer cautiously. "Who are you, then?"

His vessel. It must be. Crowley wonders how much the thing remembers. It seems a bit confused, but then being ridden by an angel seems like a messy sort of thing

He opens his mouth, then hesitates. Something in him wants him to be careful about who he trusts, about who he lets in, but what other choice does he have?

"I don't know. Do you know who I am?"

Right, well that's great. It could be an angel with amnesia and it could be his vessel, but either way, it might be valuable, right?

"You're Castiel. We're... friends." The word feels strange on his tongue. "Get in. I'll take you back to my place."

"You want to help me?" He hesitates again. Something seems wrong about this, but he can't put his finger on what it is.

"I don't know your name."

"Crowley. My name's Crowley." He says it as if Castiel should just know it.

"Let's get you out of the cold." He pulls open the passenger door for Cas.

He's indecisive a moment longer, and then he nods and gets into the car. Once Crowley joins him, he looks him over, trying to see if he recognizes him at all, but there's nothing.

"What were you referring to? You asked where I was in all of 'this.'"

"I was looking for you. You've been missing."

Crowley gets back to driving to his safehouse, playing the part of the concerned friend.

"Oh." He quiets, frowning to himself, and then at the road, but none of the scenery is familiar.

"Did something happen to me?" He looks down at himself; he hadn't thought to check himself for injury. He hadn't been thinking much of anything.

"I feel alright. How long have I been missing?"

Crowley glances at him. "We had a fight and you left, but it's alright now." A few years off the mark, but that's fine.

"Last time I saw you was a few weeks ago."

A fight, and Castiel left.

"Were we living together?"

Suddenly, Crowley's strangeness about the word "friends" makes sense, and he looks over at him, suspicious and evaluating.

"Were we... together?"

Crowley smiles. "It's all a bit more complicated than that."

He pulls into his driveway and puts the car into park, staring straight ahead for a moment. "Things don't always go both ways."

He liked Castiel, which is apparently his name, but Castiel didn't like him. He's proud of himself for reading the situation this well when he still feels so confused.

"Is that why we fought?"

"Not this time, no. It was something else."

He gets out of the car without another word, heading up the walk to the house and finding the loose board in the porch where the keys are hidden.

Castiel follows. It seems to him that Crowley isn't interested in talking about what led to the fight, which is frustrating because it could tell Castiel more about what happened to him. But he imagines they'll get there in time.

"It was lucky that you found me. I don't remember anything before walking along that road."

"Yeah, it's almost like an angel dropped you in my lap, Cas." He unlocks the door and holds it open. "Don't mind the dust."

The house looks lived in. He pays a lady to clean it once a month and restock anything that's needed to make it look like a normal human man lives here in between long last-minute vacations.

He nods and moves inside, and he looks around him with interest. He's still not sure if they were living together. Perhaps there's some clue to his identity in here.

"I don't have anything," he says, turning back around to Crowley. He pulls out a cell phone. "There's this, but it doesn't turn on."

Crowley holds out his hand for the phone. "I'll have a look at it. You make yourself comfortable. I'll get you something to eat."

On the off-chance that it's Castiel's vessel, he'd like it not to starve.

He takes the invitation to sit down, but slowly. First he moves around the room, taking in what's here and if any of it seems to be ringing any bells. Eventually, he winds his way to a seat, listening closely to what Crowley is doing.

"How long have we known each other?"

"I think it must be over four years now." He hides the phone in the kitchen. He'll wipe it later, of course.

He comes back a few minutes later with the best of his finds, a frozen pizza and apple juice. Really?

"We used to work together."

"Work." That has to be a viable clue to who he is, right? Maybe it will unlock something.

"What do we do?"

He considers the pizza, and then takes a slice for himself.

"I'm in sales. You were helping me out on a project."

He sits next to Cas. "You're between jobs now, so you can stay as long as you need to."

Castiel looks over at him, probably violating some sense of personal space, but he isn't thinking about that. He's staring at Crowley, yes, but he's waiting to see if there will be some moment of recognition, some kind of memory that might let him know who he was, and who Crowley is to him.

"Thank you," he says after a long moment of staring. He turns back to his pizza, but he frowns at it instead of picking it up.

"I wish I could remember any of that."

"With luck, you will soon, but I think I've read that jogging the memory too hard at once could be traumatic. Best we take our time. I'll clear my calendar for you."

He rests his hand on Castiel's knee.

He isn't expecting that, and he looks at the hand and then at Crowley, uncertainty plain on his face.

"Thank you," he says again, slower this time. He's waiting for some sense of dislike over the hand on his knee, but it doesn't come. Maybe this is normal.

"This is kind of you."

"It's not a problem. I'll get the guest room set up for you." He smiles and it's halfway between a smirk and something warmer.

"Eat. You must be hungry."

Right. He should shake off this feeling of unease and eat; Crowley is clearly a good friend, and Castiel is on edge because of this trauma. He gives a short nod and then starts eating.

"Yes, I suppose I am." He mentally checks himself over again.

"And my feet are sore." It sounds like he's surprised about that, though he isn't sure why he ought to be. Everything about today is surprising, he supposes.

"Oh, yeah?" Well, if he is Cas, something is wrong; that's for sure.

"I could draw you a bath if you'd like. Might help the soreness." And maybe Crowley could stay and help him out. Really can't blame a girl for trying.

A bath, yes. That sounds nice, he thinks. Slowly, he nods, and then smiles, which finally seems to overtake the puzzled look that he's had practically since Crowley found him.

"Yes, I would like that."

He lays his hand on top of Crowley's on his knee because it seems like the thing to do, to reciprocate his kindness.

Crowley isn't entirely sure what to do with that gesture. It's so entirely unexpected and somehow wrong, but he can't help enjoying it, anyway.

He squeezes Castiel's knee. "I'll go get that ready."

And then he stand and leaves quickly to do that. Everything is well-stocked, at least. Crowley's a demon, but he values his creature comforts and who doesn't like a nice bath?

Castiel comes to check on him once he's decided he's finished eating. He lingers in the doorway, standing somewhat awkwardly, but not really stiff anymore. His unease about Crowley and his hospitality is definitely fading away. He'd rather believe in his sincerity.

"Do you need help?"

Crowley is putting out towels as the tap fills the huge tub, but he pauses to smile at Castiel.

"No, you just rest your feet. The bath is almost ready." He indicates the closed toilet lid with his head for Castiel to sit. "I'll find you something clean to change into."

He sits as indicated, and he looks around the bathroom for a moment.

"It's strange," he starts, and it's not quite clear if he's talking to himself or not.

"Everything seems so new. Like I've never done any of this before."

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