Whatever fear is plaguing Cato, Crowley does his best not to feed into the anxiety; he resists the urge to follow Cato's gaze, not wanting to look worried for both the kid's sake and to keep suspicion to a minimum. He isn't playing a particular part, right now, he's just trying to look like an adult who's supposed to be here, ushering out a kid who's supposed to be in his care.

No one stops them, at least, and they're able to get into the car without incident.

"I'll not stop until you tell me to, alright?" He's starting the engine as he speaks, not bothering with his own seatbelt before he puts the car into gear and starts down the driveway. "M'gonna drive slow to start, so we don't draw attention."

It would look odd, if he came tearing out of Cygne's driveway, but he wants to reassure Cato that he's not dallying for any reason other than caution. Most of his attention is on their surroundings, but he risks a quick glance at Cato, trying to figure out what the Hell is going on.

"Cygne hurt you?" It almost isn't a question. Who else could Cato be referring to?