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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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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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