It was a relief, when Crowley's sobbing finally began to still, and the sound of his voice - even rough and unfamiliar as that particular voice was - made him let out a soft sigh. It didn't even take a second thought for him to pull a bottle of water out of the ether, an actual modern plastic bottle at that, and he held it out to him as the hand in his hair lowered to rub soothing circles against his back, where his wings should have been if he'd pulled them out.
"Don't be silly, dear boy, what could you possibly have to apologize for?" Not that the apology itself did anything to help ease his worries. Crowley did not apologize, at least not in words. He showed it in actions, perhaps, offered symbolic olive branches when he knew he'd overstepped some boundary. Short of that panicked attempt at coercing him into his Bentley to run away, or the hushed whispers of sympathy he'd made when he'd had to tell him the bookshop had burned down, he couldn't think of any other time he'd heard those words leave his mouth, regardless of the voice he spoke them in.
Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he glanced up at the colorful little lizard as it patted the top of Crowley's head. And then turned to look around them, frantically searching for what he didn't know, and then leveling a look and a quirk of scales that he was sure an Earthly lizard wouldn't have been able to manage just above its eyes that made him feel like he was being scolded for something. He shook his head in bewilderment, transfixed for just a moment by what was undeniably a look he'd seen in Crowley's eyes more times then he could count but on a tiny lizard's face, his mouth gaping and working silently as he tried to parse out just who exactly "Elisha" was and what to make of the little creature. He could only deal with so many things at once, so her presence had gone somewhat ignored while he tried to calm down his friend, but now that things were beginning to settle, he was back to square one in terms of questions he had about the fact that the number of reptiles he was usually accustomed to dealing with had now doubled.
Had the other demons' animal companions ever gained the ability to speak on their own? For that matter, if Crowley was now saddled with an external manifestation of his serpentine nature, why wasn't the creature a snake? If there had been a coiling pile of red and black scales hissing out admonishments at him from on top of his head, he probably wouldn't have had any trouble reconciling her existence. This was just strange.
"I really sorry, but I don't have any idea who you're talking about. I think both-er...the...uh...all of us have a great number of questions that need answering." And then he was pulling his gaze away from the lizard and down to focus on Crowley again, twisting to try and catch his gaze so that he could speak to him properly. Not to force him out of the hiding space he'd found in his shoulder, no, but to simply judge his reactions and appease his own worries that he was feeling a little less fragile. And perhaps to let himself grow accustomed to this new face. It wasn't bad, certainly not. Simply new, especially given that he was unable to look past it and see the familiar face of his true form underneath it, which meant, somehow, this was him. No more red hair or those faint freckles that he'd memorized purely by way of seeing them so many times over the millennia, and not even that delicate, spiraling mark near his ear that branded him for who he was.
Well, that was fine. He had learned to get used to his ever-changing fashions and ridiculous hairstyles over the years, and he'd rolled with his different names as he'd settled into them easily enough. This would be no different. Crowley was Crowley, that was all that mattered to him.
"Why don't we head back to the shop? I suspect being somewhere less open might be more comfortable, and we can sort this all out when we're there."
no subject
"Don't be silly, dear boy, what could you possibly have to apologize for?" Not that the apology itself did anything to help ease his worries. Crowley did not apologize, at least not in words. He showed it in actions, perhaps, offered symbolic olive branches when he knew he'd overstepped some boundary. Short of that panicked attempt at coercing him into his Bentley to run away, or the hushed whispers of sympathy he'd made when he'd had to tell him the bookshop had burned down, he couldn't think of any other time he'd heard those words leave his mouth, regardless of the voice he spoke them in.
Movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he glanced up at the colorful little lizard as it patted the top of Crowley's head. And then turned to look around them, frantically searching for what he didn't know, and then leveling a look and a quirk of scales that he was sure an Earthly lizard wouldn't have been able to manage just above its eyes that made him feel like he was being scolded for something. He shook his head in bewilderment, transfixed for just a moment by what was undeniably a look he'd seen in Crowley's eyes more times then he could count but on a tiny lizard's face, his mouth gaping and working silently as he tried to parse out just who exactly "Elisha" was and what to make of the little creature. He could only deal with so many things at once, so her presence had gone somewhat ignored while he tried to calm down his friend, but now that things were beginning to settle, he was back to square one in terms of questions he had about the fact that the number of reptiles he was usually accustomed to dealing with had now doubled.
Had the other demons' animal companions ever gained the ability to speak on their own? For that matter, if Crowley was now saddled with an external manifestation of his serpentine nature, why wasn't the creature a snake? If there had been a coiling pile of red and black scales hissing out admonishments at him from on top of his head, he probably wouldn't have had any trouble reconciling her existence. This was just strange.
"I really sorry, but I don't have any idea who you're talking about. I think both-er...the...uh...all of us have a great number of questions that need answering." And then he was pulling his gaze away from the lizard and down to focus on Crowley again, twisting to try and catch his gaze so that he could speak to him properly. Not to force him out of the hiding space he'd found in his shoulder, no, but to simply judge his reactions and appease his own worries that he was feeling a little less fragile. And perhaps to let himself grow accustomed to this new face. It wasn't bad, certainly not. Simply new, especially given that he was unable to look past it and see the familiar face of his true form underneath it, which meant, somehow, this was him. No more red hair or those faint freckles that he'd memorized purely by way of seeing them so many times over the millennia, and not even that delicate, spiraling mark near his ear that branded him for who he was.
Well, that was fine. He had learned to get used to his ever-changing fashions and ridiculous hairstyles over the years, and he'd rolled with his different names as he'd settled into them easily enough. This would be no different. Crowley was Crowley, that was all that mattered to him.
"Why don't we head back to the shop? I suspect being somewhere less open might be more comfortable, and we can sort this all out when we're there."