It was about that moment that Aziraphale arrived back at the flat, a bag of books in his hand. He jumped as he came to see the unexpected sight of Crowley lounging on his couch. He looked just... just awful. He stared at the bloody mess on his couch for a long moment, trying to determine whether or not the demon was even alive or just a corpse delivered home.
Dropping the books in the doorway, the angel rushed to the side of his companion, checking him over as if he knew how to search for signs of life. "Crowley? Crowley, are you all right?!"
Crowley groaned again, his hand going back to his head. Everything seemed so loud now.
"Keep it down, Aziraphale." The hiss was half hearted as the demon's eyes opened just big enough slits to see if the angel was really there. Sure MDEA had 'fixed him' up just fine. No more bloody nurse demons or dark, tempting whispers in the back of his head. So why did everything still hurt like ghosts of the injuries now gone. Little bruises only, now, slowly fading the longer he was away from silent hill. Leaving the memories in their wake of real pain.
His hand reached up to grab Aziraphale's wrist and halt his frantic flustering movements. He was flitting about like a silly bird.
"Ngk," The demon sat up again, leaning forward ever so slightly. "...Were you watching?"
Aziraphale sighed and let his body relax when Crowley responded. He put on the best smile that he could, his concern for the other more apparent than anything. "I... I was. Why do you think I'm behaving this way? I need to make certain that there's no lasting damage..."
The angel looked up into Crowley's face and frowned, "though I'm certain that the worst injuries are ones I can't see."
Hearing the concern in Aziraphale's voice, he let go of the others wrist with an inaudible sigh. Why had he ever set up that blasted tv? Aziraphale had seen what had happened. Even Crowley still wasn't sure what all had happened after he had been bitten. It was a blur of blood and voices and fighting. This entire event would make him the laughing stock of below, and piss off his already furious 'boss'. A demon falling prey to lesser demons.
"I am fine Aziraphale, see, no wounds." He pulled the bloody, tattered shirt to the side to reveal nothing but a fading bruise on his shoulder.
Comments 15
Dropping the books in the doorway, the angel rushed to the side of his companion, checking him over as if he knew how to search for signs of life. "Crowley? Crowley, are you all right?!"
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"Keep it down, Aziraphale." The hiss was half hearted as the demon's eyes opened just big enough slits to see if the angel was really there. Sure MDEA had 'fixed him' up just fine. No more bloody nurse demons or dark, tempting whispers in the back of his head. So why did everything still hurt like ghosts of the injuries now gone. Little bruises only, now, slowly fading the longer he was away from silent hill. Leaving the memories in their wake of real pain.
His hand reached up to grab Aziraphale's wrist and halt his frantic flustering movements. He was flitting about like a silly bird.
"Ngk," The demon sat up again, leaning forward ever so slightly. "...Were you watching?"
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The angel looked up into Crowley's face and frowned, "though I'm certain that the worst injuries are ones I can't see."
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"I am fine Aziraphale, see, no wounds." He pulled the bloody, tattered shirt to the side to reveal nothing but a fading bruise on his shoulder.
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