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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I'm not going to be rude, dear.

[He bristles again.] How is it rude to generally avoid the archangel who clearly wants to kill me? How is rudeness even a thing that you think about compared to that?

Crowley... [He frowns.] I'm not going to simply ignore him if he tries to start a conversation with me. I don't want to give him more reasons to attack us than he already has and being rude would be a reason.

You don't need to kowtow to him. You're a Principality.

Which they do not seem to have in their world, from what I've learned. He's the big fish over there. They don't have Principalities. And if you'll remember, our Michael is the general of His armies. He is not an angel to be rude to. That is not kowtowing, it is common sense.

[He falls silent. Aziraphale is right. Of course he's right. Crowley rubs at his shoulder absently, feeling the ache of his wing in his bones.]

We shouldn't have to play by his rules...Wonderland is supposed to be...I don't know. Neutral ground.

No, we shouldn't. But he's become very good at finding our weaknesses while keeping his own private. We are not his equals. And so, we have to learn and play by his rules for the time being.

What do you think I've been doing this whole time? [He bites the words off, angry because it's embarrassing, it's bloody well embarrassing how much control Michael has over Crowley. Over both of them.]

Then you understand why I must strive to remain polite despite how much I want to pluck him like a headless chicken.

[He looks away. It's pretty much exactly what Crowley was saying before, isn't it? The fight goes out of him.] Whatever...keeps you alive.

[A moment of deliberation and he pulls the demon into a tight hug.] I'm sorry, dear.

[Crowley hugs him back, tight and demanding, not even caring how clingy this must make him look.]

[It doesn't even cross his mind for a moment that this behavior might be considered clingy. He just holds him, knowing this touch is something they both need.]

[Finally, finally, Crowley starts to truly calm down. It's fine. They'll be fine. They've dealt with worse than one cross archangel. Mike has nothing on the end of the world.]

[Maybe one of them will die. At the very least, it's basically a given that terrible things will keep happening to them. But they'll be okay. They'll survive.]

I'm sorry. [He's still holding onto Aziraphale, though his grip is less insistent now.] I didn't mean to get so...dramatic.

There's no need to apologize, my dear. None at all.

[He presses a tender kiss to the demon's lips, meant for reassurance. Of course they would survive. They could get through anything as long as they remain together, he's certain of it.]

[He kisses the angel back, feeling the last of the tension run out of him like water.]

[He smiles warmly, pressing his forehead against Crowley's.]

Dear, is there anything I can do to help your poor wing?

[He frowns.] I don't know... It was an archangel that did it, so...

[He's never been injured by an archangel before. He doesn't know if it works differently. Either way, he's not sure he wants to let his wings out at all, even if it means healing.]

May I see it, please?

I...sure. Just...give me a moment.

[He needs to work himself up to this. It's not that he doesn't trust Aziraphale, far from it; it's just an instinctive need to protect his already injured wings when there's an angel in the vicinity.]

[But after a few moments he takes a deep breath, steps back and lets his wings out with a slight grunt. His left wing is perfectly fine, but his right wing doesn't want to bend properly or open all the way. It's not broken, just badly sprained. There's a fistful of coverts missing from near the "wrist", several primaries are bent, and one of the primaries at the wingtip is clearly missing. The flesh is also badly bruised, though it's hard to tell through the feathers.]

It's not as bad as it looks.

[Aziraphale winces sympathetically. He knows what it's like to be grounded. He's had a broken wing a very long time ago, not that he ever let Crowley know. He frowns, not daring to touch, not yet.]

Crowley, may I... May I try to heal it?

[Gruffly,] Go ahead.

[His instincts are screaming not to let an angel near his wings again, but he ignores them. It's Aziraphale. And Crowley wants the injuries healed. You never know when you need to make a quick exit, especially with Michael around.]

Alright, dear. [He can tell Crowley's instincts are against this, which is why he's being extra careful.]

I'm going to put my hands along the sprain. [He gives it a moment before he gently touches the feathers with his open palms, healing energy already working it's way into the sore muscles and tendons.]

[He flinches as Aziraphale touches him, gritting his teeth to keep from disappearing his wing instantly. It's not easy; his wing hurts at even the slightest touch.]

[Even the healing touch hurts initially, but then coolness spreads through his body. The pain starts to dissipate. He sighs in utter relieve.]

[Even though he can't help it, he feels guilty for hurting Crowley at all. The flinch almost makes him pull back, but he has a job to to. Tend to the sprain first, then work on any injuries throughout the rest of the wing. He can't really do anything about the feathers aside from encourage the new ones a little bit.]

How is that feeling?

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

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