With the hurdle of Crowley's sudden transfigurations overcome, there was only one obstacle left to face- if it was even a hurdle in the first place.
Lucifer.
Both the Winchester and MacLeod families had mused upon what the fallen angel was planning, but neither could come up with a good explanation. Angus was the connection that mattered, but there was no good way to explain why he decided to team up with him, aside from his connection with Crowley. They tried to think logically. If Lucifer wanted Crowley taken out, he had to be planning another escape from the cage… right?
Dean and Sam were convinced that this was the case. Castiel seemed to think so too, and asked a few of his brothers and sisters to keep an eye on him, but so far there was no suspicious activity going on down in hell. No escape attempts, no uprisings, no nothing. Still, the Winchester boys refused to believe that there was no bigger subplot underlying Angus MacAdams' partnership with the devil himself.
Crowley, however, took the opposite view.
He firmly believed that Angus was to blame for what had happened to him and his family. Lucifer was just a clever ploy, a smokescreen to cover the inner workings of one mad man's psychotic brain. From the stories his mother had been telling him over the time they'd been together after first mentioning him, it was not beyond his capabilities. And as for Lucifer, Crowley didn't bother to worry about him. He would come or go when he chose to. The main difference between himself and the Winchester boys was that they tried to prevent things before they happened. He certainly understood that point of view, but he didn't see what good it did to take preventative measures before anything happened. He took it in stride, adopting a wait-and-see attitude. His mother seemed to feel the same, and he didn't ask her her opinions on the subject. She already told him her thoughts in blatant detail after his father was transformed.
For now, Crowley remained in hell, but resumed his schedule of visits with his mother. She had reluctantly returned to her home after he was completely stable for a week straight. He made sure to run things as they were right before he'd run into Annabel and Fiona. Slowly, hell returned to it's semi-normal state of operations.
Meanwhile, Rowena had returned to her apartment. It had felt like an eternity since she had last been there. Everything seemed so different now. It was like living in a parallel universe. Everything looked the same, but it just… wasn't.
There was an emptiness inside Rowena now, one that she didn't think she could explain to anyone. She would try and fill her time with reading books or going on dates, but the hollowness remained, carefully hidden under her smiling mask. She tried to fill the hole inside of her with jewelry, sex, magic, or money, but nothing stuck. It made her wonder if she even knew who she was anymore.
When the hollowness became too much, she found herself going to the nursery. She would sit in the rocking chair, moving back and forth as memories with her son replayed on a loop in her mind. She had been so fulfilled when she had taken care of him. She realized after that first visit that the feelings she was enduring were something akin to empty nest syndrome. It was something commonly seen in housewives whose children had gone back to college. There was an empty void left by their child. This was how Rowena felt every day since he had been cured.
Fergus' visits were the only thing that filled her with joy. Being with him brightened her somehow. He wasn't a baby anymore, but he was there. It was more than what she had when she was at home by herself. She tried to tell herself that he still needed her, just in different ways, but it didn't fill the gaping hole in her heart.
Crowley too found himself impacted by the events of his reversion to infancy. He continually longed for the closeness of his mother that he had had then. When he didn't have much to do in hell, he ended up reflecting on childish things until he snapped himself out of it. He had secretly been relieved when Mummy had done a final check on him before she left and found no trace of the spell remained. But that made him worry at the same time. If the spell was gone, why was he thinking this way? The answer he came up with disturbed him.
Because it was something he wanted.
At first he had vehemently denied it to himself. That was ridiculous. He was the king of hell for god sakes! He had a reputation to uphold. But the longer he took the time to think things through, he realized that maybe it wasn't so ridiculous after all.
As an actual child his mother had been distant and cold. But this time, she was different. Mummy was sweet and kind, caring and compassionate. He had felt her unconditional love for the first time, and it was as addictive as a drug. One taste, and he was hooked. He felt loved for the first time in his life. He wanted, no- he needed to feel that way again. And this seemed like the only way to do it.
One day, he decided that he had to be brave. He had to tell her these things himself. The voice telling him to do childish things for comfort were becoming louder- too loud to ignore anymore. So he went to her house, but found it empty. There was only one other place she might be. So he found himself in the nursery. The voice screamed out to him, and he resisted the urge to suck his thumb.
Turning left, he saw his mother smiling at him from the rocking chair.