entranceway | 9th Book || Nothing Like Being Lost in a Book

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9th Book || Nothing Like Being Lost in a Book

[The video feed cuts on to show Aziraphale in his room. He is seated in an old, tartan wing back chair with the cheerful morning sunlight streaming in from a window. He smiles cheerfully.]

So, I hear we have a book club. This seems like something I would very much like to get involved in as back home I own a book shop and here I manage the library as best I can. If someone has any information on this book club, I would greatly appreciate it.

Thank you.

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[This is exactly what Crowley was afraid of. Well, one of the things.] I'm not telling you anything until you can assure me you're not going to do anything bloody stupid.

Crowley, who hurt you? [He was not about to make a promise he had absolutely no intention of keeping.]

[Crowley grabs his shoulders, grip tight.] You bloody well promise me, Aziraphale, because if you go and get yourself killed over a few missing feathers I'm never letting you see them again, understand?

I won't get killed, Crowley.

You will.

I won't. Now tell me who hurt you.

You will! He'll rip you apart and I can't lose you again!

[His voice tears as he says it, like the words are hurting him. Which they are. He looks down as he realizes what he just said but doesn't let go of Aziraphale's shoulders.]

[He flinches at the sound of Crowley's voice before he realizes what he said. And like that, his anger subsides and all he can do is pull Crowley close and refuse to let him go.]

[Crowley has been desperately trying not to say it out loud since November. He actually thought he'd been doing pretty well, all things considered. But every time Aziraphale talks about Wonderland or Falling or Michael, or every time a particularly unpleasant event comes along, or every time Michael is picking on him and Crowley thinks well maybe I can get just one punch in, there's that little panicked voice again whispering "what if? what if he dies again, what if you can't save him, what if it's your fault like last time?"]

[And at this point it would be almost impossible for it to not be his fault. Even all those stupid ghosts from the future around Christmastime.]

[He goes stiff again as Aziraphale hugs him, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the look on Aziraphale's face. He hates how pathetic he must seem. Demons shouldn't be this vulnerable.]

[Stupid, Aziraphale. That was stupid, he thinks to himself as he pulls Crowley ever closer. How could he hurt his demon so?]

I'm so sorry, Crowley. I didn't think... [That is entirely the point, isn't it? He isn't thinking. He isn't considering how Crowley might feel. What kind of an angel is he to do this to this beautiful being in his arms?]

[Bitterly, quietly,] You're getting sodding good at the not thinking business.

I'm not a mind reader, dear. I can't know what you're thinking when you don't tell me. [He feels awful. But this isn't about him. Still...] And I promise you I won't go off and do something stupid if you tell me what happened.

[He's quiet for awhile, letting Aziraphale hold him. It's not like he can keep this a secret any longer. And no, he can't expect Aziraphale to read his mind and just know.]

Michael. He sort of crashed into me during the last event and...took offense.

[He frowned, mentally confirming that he would have to talk to Michael about this. But he wouldn't rush off and attempt to smite the archangel.]

Is there anything I can do?

You can not go near him. [He pulls free of Aziraphale's embrace, getting his anger back.] You can avoid bringing it up altogether. You can just outright avoid him, that would be nice.

Crowley... [He takes a small step back.]

[There's no stopping any of this now, so Crowley just rides the avalanche.] He's probably going to kill me one of these days, you know that, right? What are you doing to do when that happens?

[Planning for every eventuality.]

[He flinches at the words as if they had physically attacked him. Of course he knows. Why else would he try so hard to convince Michael that Crowley is a decent being? But hearing the words come out of his mouth... He just shakes his head looking down.]

I... I don't know.

Try turning that flaming sword of yours on him? [Aziraphale isn't a violent type per se, but Crowley knows better than anyone else what Aziraphale can do when he's truly angry.] Maybe you could kill him, but I doubt it. The ranking is all pear-shaped where he's from; archangels aren't supposed to be that powerful. For all I know he could turn you into a column of ash before you even raise your sword arm.

[It's the sort of thing that has haunted his nightmares for months now.]

And then what? I have to come back. I have to come back and see what he's done to you.

[At some point Crowley started balling one hand into a fist and squeezing, digging his nails into his palm. The pain is at least keeping him from screaming.]

I'd probably do something stupid, like try to kill him myself. And around and around we go.

[Fear and frustration and worry and anger, everything just sort of overwhelms the angel. He can't possibly imagine what he would do were Crowley to be killed, murdered by Michael for likely no good reason. His mind if literally incapable of such a feat.

But one thing he knows for certain, this world gives them extra chances at life. He thinks, maybe he could bide his time until Crowley revives. But i that what he would do? He just doesn't know.]

[The silence gives Crowley time, time enough to start getting himself back under control, time enough to actually look at the angel and see the effect his words are having. Aziraphale's likely been thinking much the same things lately, but has he thought about them in such concrete terms?]

[Crowley doesn't know, but Aziraphale just looks so...overwhelmed. Lost. He's seen that look before and he hates it.]

[One hand is still in a fist and starting to go numb. He steps forward and reaches out with his other hand, laying it on the side of Aziraphale's face and then moving it to the back of his neck. He presses his forehead to the angel's.]

I just...can't lose you again. [His voice is barely a whisper.]

[His voice is weak, taking all his willpower to not fall apart under the weight of his heart and the ache of the idea of Crowley's loss.] I can't lose you either.

So...stay away from him. [He unclenches his fist finally, not noticing that it's bleeding a little.] Please?

[He nods for a moment before he spots the blood. A wave of guilt passes through him as he takes the injured hand gingerly in his own and starts to heal it. Look at what he's made Crowley do. He's a terrible angel.]

[Crowley blinks in mild surprise at the abrupt pain and touch of divinity.] Oh. I--sorry, I--didn't even notice...

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