He hears the way Crowley's voice cracks, and he almost loses his metaphorical legs from under him. Perhaps they could talk about what he saw some other day. They could just sit here and enjoy the view, and then retire to the train, grab a drink, maybe settle down to watch a film to get their mind off of things. Forget it for now.

But maybe that's just his own urge to avoid things.

He takes another deep breath and sighs. "It, hum." He doesn't want to talk about it, but he knows he should. "When we met at the park. On the bandstand."