This follows Angel.

The hood didn't surprise him and neither did the restraints. Crowley was led into the room by someone. Once seated in a chair, the hood was removed, leaving him blinking in the bright light. A single light, casting the rest of the room in darkness.

"Seriously?" He looked up at the light and then away, squinting into the darkness. He could vaguely make out some figures. "I feel like I'm in a 50's police melodrama."

This brought a chuckle from someone and he almost smiled.

"Could I have some water? Please? This is going to take awhile."

A table was set next to him, a pitcher of water and a glass placed on it. With a murmur of thanks, he filled the glass and cradled it in his hands. After a moment's thought, he started to talk.

He talked for hours, draining one pitcher and receiving another. His voice faltered more than once and faded away as well, caught up in memories and emotion, no matter how hard he tried to suppress both. Finally he reached the end and fell silent, rolling the glass between his palms as he studied the darkness.

A figure approached. He couldn't see her face but the figure and the confident walk were familiar. "Did you ever tell anyone?"

She didn't specify what but he knew. His lips quirked.

"No. Never. I hadn't fall that far."

"An unfallen darkling," a woman's voice murmured from the darkness. "Who'd've thunk it?"

This time he did smile. "Not a darkling any longer. I'm as human as — well — most folks here."

"You went off the rails toward the end." Another person, this one a man, said sharply.

"Yes, well. Not actually a surprise. Bound to happen sooner or later. Only I got a chance — one in a trillion chance — to redeem myself. And I took it. I'm human again. By my own choice. So will I be judged for what I did as a demon?" He threw a pointed look into the darkness. "All that I did as a demon. Or will I be given a chance?"

"He's been tested every way possible." The second woman spoke again. "Physically he is human, his soul untainted. He was a good man once, he deserves the chance to be a good man again." She threw the words out like a challenge.

"The people he has killed …" The man started angrily and Crowley flinched.

"Careful." The second woman warned. There was an undercurrent in her voice that made Crowley squint in her direction.

All during this exchange the first woman stood in front of him. He couldn't tell rather she was studying him or listening to the exchange behind her. Or both.

"It's not often a demon gets a second chance," she said suddenly. "I, for one, am not about to throw it away. Especially considering … everything. You will, of course, be on probation. Perhaps for years."

"Of course." He readily agreed, ignoring the sputter of protests behind her.

"And appointments have already been set up with the doctor."

"Doctor?" Crowley thought back on the days of testing he'd just been through. He started as hands unlocked the restraints. Slowly he rose, watching as the Director walked into the light.

"A psychologist." She crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow. "I rather think you'll need one."

Crowley grimaced but didn't protest.

"And don't worry. She's an old friend." There was a smile bordering on a smirk on the woman's face.

"An old … " He blinked in realization. "Last time I saw her she was the librarian."

"That was in the 1800s." The Director said dryly.

"Oh. It has been a while then."

"You will be going to the Midsomer community, where the academy is."

Crowley nodded, surprised to feel relief.

"Jim will be escorting you." She nodded to Crowley's left and he glanced at the young man standing there, recognizing him as the one who'd been escorting him since he'd arrived. "I rather suspect we're going to be needing your help cleaning up this mess the Winchesters have managed to make."

Crowley grimaced and slid his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders. "I handled that badly," he admitted.

"You'd have done it differently, if you were human?" The man, still hiding in the darkness, asked curtly.

"I'd have handled a lot of thing different, had I been human. But I was demon and I reacted as a demon. I tried to rein myself in but sometimes it just wasn't possible."

"No urge for torture? Or blood?" The Director asked, eying him intently.

"No, none." He frowned, shaking his head slowly. "It's weird, like a part of me has been cut out. Not that I miss it but …" He shrugged helplessly then tilted his head at the sound of claws clicking on the floor. "Oh no …"

He turned just in time to catch the wolf leaping at him. They tumbled to the ground with her trying to lick him and he trying to hold her back.

"Off! Off! Gorram it, will …. Blah! … Stop it. Ugh! Help! Anyone!"

"Is this part of his redemption?" Crowley vaguely heard Jim asked.

"It is now," was the Director's rather unhelpful reply.

"Whoa! Hey!" Jim sounded startled and Crowley managed to heave the wolf to one side to see Arariel charging toward him, her sword in hand. "No! It's okay." He managed to get to his knees, holding the now-snarling wolf back. "She's a friend."

"But it …" Arariel hesitated, staring at the still-snarling wolf, obviously uncertain as what she really was.

"She's a friend." Crowley said firmly then shook the wolf as best as he could. "Stop it."

The wolf whined and butted him lightly before knocking him over by attempting to roll against him.

Arariel blinked, looking at the Director in bewilderment. The older woman chuckled, reaching out to turn her and shoo her from the room. "A long story. One I'm sure Simon will tell you later."

"I will? Oof! Will you stop it?"

The wolf's sharp bark sounded suspiciously like a 'no!'.