(Untitled)

[dontcallmegabby]

Date: February 1st, 2001, evening
Setting: Tadfield Manor, hospital wing
Status: Private - Crowley and Gabriel (Complete)
Summary: Crowley admits defeat.

Comments

[anthony_crowley]

Practically vibrating with suppressed anger and frustration after his conversation with Aziraphale, Crowley dragged himself back to the hospital, faintly relieved to find the Snob there this time.

"Gabriel," he bit out in response. Very little of his anger was directed at the archangel, but he assumed a great deal more went the other direction. Still, it didn't matter. Even if he hadn't been the bearer of bad news and the pursuer of Gabriel's lover, the angel was too conscious of sides for them to ever be able to get along. At the moment, Crowley thought he probably had the right idea. If he never saw another damn angel again, it'd be too soon. But it was the wrong time to think about what just happened. He needed to focus.

The demon blinked, trying to figure out how to ask for help without actually asking for help. "I can't... I mean I don't... Look, you're obligated to work in here, right? For whomever might be injured? Regardless of personal matters?"

[dontcallmegabby]

"No," Gabriel answered curtly, and as far as he was concerned, it was true; what he did was voluntary, and he did not report to Adam in the end. The Antichrist had indicated as much in the past.

However, though Crowley may not have been the first being Gabriel had been hoping to see, he had proved himself a friend to Belial, and the angel wasn't going to turn him away without reason.

"What do you want, Crowley?"

[anthony_crowley]

Crowley stared at Gabriel for an awkward eternity, deciding. But he really didn't have much choice, did he? Checking that they were alone, the demon extended his battered wings with a grimace. A few scant tufts of broken black feathers lay in ragged patches against the thin skin of his wings. Scabs dotted the surface where the others had been violently torn out. And the right wing hung crookedly - the delicate, hollow bones broken or fractured in several places.

Unable to come up with any words to explain or ask or hide his humiliation, Crowley simply looked at the Messenger; his expression as blank as he could make it.

[dontcallmegabby]

The sight was enough to shatter the ice of Gabriel's expression: wings were a matter of great importance among angels, and he could only imagine the blow to the demon's pride just to admit to an enemy such injuries. It must have happened when the demon had been in Hell, he realized, and wondered how Crowley had lived all this time with the pain such extensive damage would have caused all - and how Gabriel himself had not noticed to begin with.

"Crowley..." the angel began in barely more than a whisper, a troubled look to his blue eyes, but it was pointless; there was little he could say that would make a difference. Instead he moved to the nearest exam room, holding the door for the demon and his delicately extended wings. "Come in, sit down. Please. I'll see what I can do."