Crowley trembled, his whole body shaking with the force of his fluctuating emotions. Seeing the dried blood on his wings brought up the memory, so fresh and clear, despite decades of distance from the actual event.
They'd gone to meet with both sides. Aziraphale had turned his back on the other angels to offer Crowley reasuarances. He was still so certain they were making headway. Before either of them could react, Michael's sword ran straight through Aziraphale, soaking Crowley in the angel' blood. He watched in horror as the life fled from his angel's eyes and Zaphira had disintegrated like she'd never even existed before he fled. He didn't want to just leave him there. It was the last thing he wanted. But he had to live. He had to survive. Aziraphale would have wanted it. Aziraphale would have wanted him to succeed where he had "failed". Not that Crowley thought Aziraphale had failed. Clearly Heaven and its angels had failed Aziraphale. He hadn't once pulled his wings out after that most horrible of days. Hadn't seen the bloody mess that his once pristine wings had become.
That is until Aziraphale, this Aziraphale, had reached for his wings. The sight had caused him so much panic he couldn't even retract his wings. All he could do was duck for cover and tremble.
Aziraphale's soothing energy cut through the panic, wrapping it and him up in warmth and love and everything that shouldn't calm him as a demon. It was everything he'd longed for since The Beginning. Everything he was sure he'd never have again for the last thirty years. Even if this wasn't his Aziraphale, he was still an Aziraphale in a world that seemed like it might be relatively at peace. And he seemed to want him here and safe and... something...
He shook as silent, dry sobs overcame him, his wings sagging to the floor in a jumbled mess of bloodied feathers. A few feathers fell out of their own accord after decades of neglect. Even without the blood his wings were in a worse state than Aziraphale's usually were.
Antia looked up at the tall, ginger demon, a mix of emotions crossing her small gecko face. The gall he had to even suggest touching her! Even if he... Didn't Aziraphale say he's Crowley? Well, that made sense there would be a Crowley if there was an Aziraphale here. They both looked different from their home universe. She stared at him for a very long moment, weighing her options, weighing the danger, weighing their lack of daemons here.
And finally she reached out, touched a foot to Crowley's hand before pulling it back as if afraid he would grasp at her. When nothing happened, she gingerly climbed onto his palm. It was a bit of a thrill! She'd never even touched Aziraphale, let alone anyone else. It was improper! It was dangerous. She'd seen beings who'd lost their daemons and they were essentially husks.
"Y-you better be careful with me. I don't think you fully understand what I am."
She realized moments later that didn't exactly answer his demand. As Crowley, her Crowley, became overwhelmed with emotions again, tears formed in her eyes again. Odd for a creature that shouldn't have tear ducts.
"Fuck, this... You might want to sit down for this." She climbed up his sleeve to perch on his shoulder, sniffling.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rosecarmine
(no subject)
Date: 2020-11-24 05:48 am (UTC)They'd gone to meet with both sides. Aziraphale had turned his back on the other angels to offer Crowley reasuarances. He was still so certain they were making headway. Before either of them could react, Michael's sword ran straight through Aziraphale, soaking Crowley in the angel' blood. He watched in horror as the life fled from his angel's eyes and Zaphira had disintegrated like she'd never even existed before he fled. He didn't want to just leave him there. It was the last thing he wanted. But he had to live. He had to survive. Aziraphale would have wanted it. Aziraphale would have wanted him to succeed where he had "failed". Not that Crowley thought Aziraphale had failed. Clearly Heaven and its angels had failed Aziraphale. He hadn't once pulled his wings out after that most horrible of days. Hadn't seen the bloody mess that his once pristine wings had become.
That is until Aziraphale, this Aziraphale, had reached for his wings. The sight had caused him so much panic he couldn't even retract his wings. All he could do was duck for cover and tremble.
Aziraphale's soothing energy cut through the panic, wrapping it and him up in warmth and love and everything that shouldn't calm him as a demon. It was everything he'd longed for since The Beginning. Everything he was sure he'd never have again for the last thirty years. Even if this wasn't his Aziraphale, he was still an Aziraphale in a world that seemed like it might be relatively at peace. And he seemed to want him here and safe and... something...
He shook as silent, dry sobs overcame him, his wings sagging to the floor in a jumbled mess of bloodied feathers. A few feathers fell out of their own accord after decades of neglect. Even without the blood his wings were in a worse state than Aziraphale's usually were.
Antia looked up at the tall, ginger demon, a mix of emotions crossing her small gecko face. The gall he had to even suggest touching her! Even if he... Didn't Aziraphale say he's Crowley? Well, that made sense there would be a Crowley if there was an Aziraphale here. They both looked different from their home universe. She stared at him for a very long moment, weighing her options, weighing the danger, weighing their lack of daemons here.
And finally she reached out, touched a foot to Crowley's hand before pulling it back as if afraid he would grasp at her. When nothing happened, she gingerly climbed onto his palm. It was a bit of a thrill! She'd never even touched Aziraphale, let alone anyone else. It was improper! It was dangerous. She'd seen beings who'd lost their daemons and they were essentially husks.
"Y-you better be careful with me. I don't think you fully understand what I am."
She realized moments later that didn't exactly answer his demand. As Crowley, her Crowley, became overwhelmed with emotions again, tears formed in her eyes again. Odd for a creature that shouldn't have tear ducts.
"Fuck, this... You might want to sit down for this." She climbed up his sleeve to perch on his shoulder, sniffling.