It’s a lovely day (Claudius thinks) to be threatened by what was once your worst fear in life. And useful as it is to be on the ground and beneath notice, that’s his real heart thundering in his ears, louder now that he can’t cover it up with talking. He knows he talked a little more than he needed to — if he left a silence, he wouldn’t be able to start again.

But that’s fine. The interference is over with. He isn’t as afraid for himself as he is for Crowley, Crowley who’s been through the tortures of Hell before, Crowley who’s just started to feel what it’s like to be free. Even so — even if the next step wasn’t to find a less frail human — he’s longing to see Galahad, the way he did in the greenhouse with undead crowding the doors. So he pushes himself off of the floor, straightens out his jacket, and goes on a search of his own.