"Must have done, the thing hasn't budged for an hour..."

He trails off, because just saying that sounds... wrong. He knows American public transport is a wreck, but it can't be that bad.

There's a rumble of movement, the clacking of wheels on tracks and the loud roar of rushing air, and Crowley turns on his heel, skipping several steps in his hurry to reach the bottom, but the train is already disappearing into the dark of the tunnel at the opposite end of the station.

He can feel his pulse drumming in his throat, and he swallows, now taking a real look at the station.

"No postings for incoming trains," he remarks, words ringing distant to his own ears. "That's weird. That's really weird."