Taken aback by the abruptness of the change in Crowley's mood, there's a moment before he catches up enough to speak.


"I'll come with you and make some tea," he manages at last, scrambling to sit up. A vague hope flutters through his mind that Crowley will bring his coffee back to drink in bed, but that's a rare event, especially these days. Resigned, he swings his legs down to the floor.