Aziraphale (lovescrepes) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2019-09-28 10:38:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !log, *kat, *sarah, anthony crowley, aziraphale |
AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY
27th SEPTEMBER
HOSPITAL
TBA
IN PROGRESS |
Aziraphale was worried. Admittedly this wasn't an uncommon state for him but right now, his worry was very specifically directed rather than being a more general sort of thing. Crowley hadn't responded to his netpost and he would admit, even if only privately, that he'd worded more than a few things in that post specifically to get a fairly immediate response from the demon. It was something he did from time to time and while he wasn't overly proud of liking the fact that he knew how to prod at Crowley, it had, at times, been terribly useful. But Crowley hadn't replied and Aziraphale was worried. He knew he'd been rather badly injured during the battle. Not mortally, of course. He hadn't been at risk of discorporation but his wings had taken a terribly beating and there had been any number of very fragile bones that had been broken and some awful damage to his feathers. He could heal it, of course, but wings were delicate and therefore healing them had to be done with great care. So he'd been a bit focused on that and not on where his demon was. It didn't take long to find him. Crowley had always been distinctive and a few vague words of description - "Oh, he's tall, terribly handsome, red hair..." - had gotten him into Crowley's room, where he stopped just a few steps in from the door to stare at the occupant of the bed in horror. It only lasted a moment before he broke free and hurried over. "Oh, Crowley," he breathed as he, rather daringly he felt, ran a hand through Crowley's hair. He then said something he might not have dared say if he thought Crowley could hear him. "Oh, my dearest one. What has happened to you, love." He pulled his hand back and frowned with determination. He placed one hand on Crowley's forehead and the other on his chest and rather delicately reached out with his divine power to heal Crowley's injuries. He knew he could use his angelic power on Crowley's demonic body but it had to be done carefully. So he slowly channeled his power to heal the injuries Crowley had sustained in the battle, ignoring the way he could feel the ache of them in himself. Only when the last of them had been healed did, he take his hands away and fumble his way into the comfortable armchair that was miraculously beside the bed to wait for Crowley to wake. |