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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[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?

Better. Much better. [He can feel the muscles and tendons relaxing already, can feel his wing starting to bend properly.]

Good. [He continues working on the wing, not wanting to stop until he's certain Crowley is okay.]

[After another minute or so, Crowley sighs gratefully.] That's good. As good as it's going to get, I think.

[He folds his wings behind him, pleased at how his wing now folds without any pain or extra effort. The ache is still there, but it's mostly from the missing feathers, and the remainder of the archangel's power.]

[His fingers stroke tenderly over the feathers.] I've tried to encourage the feathers to regrow. I know you aren't molting right now, but you can't stay bald like that.

Unattractive, isn't it? They'll grow back soon enough. [He gives a halfhearted smile.] Thank you, angel.

It's hardly that... More... Er, well... It looks a bit cold. And I know how you like to be warm.

[He scoots around to Crowley's front and gives him a kiss.]

You needn't suffer, dear. I'm always here to help you.

[Crowley kisses him deeply, gratitude and apology all wrapped up in the kiss.] I know, but I'll live. Promise.

I would certainly hope so.

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

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