There's a strange feeling. Like a warmth in her chest that crawls all the way up to her cheeks, not even being properly processed by the mess of memories that Alice's brain currently is. But it's a feeling that has her ducking her head slightly all the same.

It's not even like it's an entirely new idea. She and Crowley were already forced into sharing their emotions, their memories. Crowley comforted her when she needed it, backed her up whenever. It's basically what a parent does, but hearing it being spelled out so directly feels like it adds something extra to it.

Something odd, because Alice never imagined anyone caring for her in such a way ever again after only meeting rotten adults after getting out of the asylum. And yet here Crowley is.

Alice's gaze raises again, to meet her mother's eyes.

"Thank you. You always make me feel safe."

Which might be a odd thing to say when they bicker like small children half of the time, but when it comes down to it, during the times it really matters - that statement is always true.

"So I.. would not want that to change."