(Untitled)

[dontcallmegabby]

Date: March 27, 2001
Status: Private - Gabriel and Crowley (Complete)
Setting: Belial's room, elsewhere in the manor
Summary: Belial's escape does not go without repercussions...

Comments

[anthony_crowley]

"...I'd struggle with my duties in such an unpopulated place. I only meant to help you when you've such an individualized task, but I suppose we'll have to make it up as we go along."

Crowley only half heard the words. Something was happening. Something he needed to know. Somewhere... If only...

"I guess so," he said, standing. "But then again, we always have."

There was a pause as he tried to identify what he was feeling, and, giving up, added, "I'll see you around, Aziraphale."

He needed to concentrate. Something was going on that was different than this awkward something with the angel. And as dangerous and unfortunate as a distraction currently was, he needed to leave. The demon almost bolted to the solitary peace of his bedroom.

Sitting in the window, he took a deep breath and on the exhale stretched his mind out. There'd been - just on the edge of feeling - something, no, someone. Angry maybe? Strong, dangerous... it took a few minutes, but he found that faint thread again. And instantly, he knew without a doubt. Belial. Well, fuck. What now?

Crowley wasn't sure he wanted to try and trace the filament back to the Crown, but if he'd sensed it even through his conversation with Aziraphale, others must have, too, and would expect him to leave immediately. Others must have... Why was that phrase caught in his thoughts like a vicious loop of snapped tape, spooling over and over as it thwacked against metal reels? Others must have... Others... Gabriel.

Moving swiftly and silently to the door, the demon peered down the corridor.

[dontcallmegabby]

His senses already sharpened by thoughts of Hell's agent, Gabriel noted Crowley's aura drawing closer. Good. Crowley must have noticed the disturbance, if only because he was likely the one being paying nearly as much attention to signs of the Crown as Gabriel.

He waited a moment, attending to any use of power on the demon's part. When in the silence he sensed nothing, he rubbed at his forehead, formulating his next step. No use of his powers meant there had been no communication with Hell on Crowley's part, and Gabriel could assume he was still working under the same orders: Find Belial and bring him back.

Well. Crowley - if he were to be believed - may not want to find Belial, but there was no reason to think he wouldn't try. And Gabriel wasn't ready to sit back and watch the effort idly. He snatched a scrap of paper from the bedside table and jotted down a quick note in his precise handwriting.

Pausing in the door frame, Gabriel glanced up and down the hall; he didn't see the demon, but that wasn't as important as if the demon caught sight of him. Quietly, he closed the door behind him and made his way down the corridor.

[anthony_crowley]

Hearing the almost inaudible snick of the door closing, Crowley slid into the hallway. If Gabriel were suddenly sneaking around, that could mean nothing good. The fool was probably going to try to find Belial despite their warnings, tantalized by the hint of his whereabouts. The demon wondered if trailing the archangel would be enough to prove to his superiors that he was trying to do his job. That might also put him on the spot to stop Gabriel from doing something stupid and giving away the Crown's location, while making it look like the Snob had been the one interfering with his mission. It could work...

Plan formed as much as it could be in a matter of seconds, Crowley followed silently, lingering in shadows.

[dontcallmegabby]

That wasn't exactly what Gabriel had in mind, but it suited him well that Crowley suspected that much of him.

The angel made his way to the third floor, pausing in front of one of the bedrooms along the hallway. Making some show of hesitancy, he checked quickly and was rewarded by the sense of Crowley's presence trailing him from a distance. After a moment, he slipped the note he'd written under the door - a legitimate one, as it happened, informing Adam that he had some urgent business to attend to and would be away and unable to tend to the hospital for a few days. The archangel had no doubt that Adam could handle anything that happened in the manor as well if not better than he could. But Adam would know, he thought. The boy would probably know exactly where he'd gone and why; and while others didn't see the angel too regularly and would likely not notice a few day's absence, he thought it only polite to inform Adam.

Having delivered the missive, he continued his progress. Up more flights of stairs, until eventually he was picking his way across the darkened attic to the ladder which provided access to the roof.

[anthony_crowley]

Crowley didn't slink along the passageway. That would have looked suspicious. Instead, he walked as he always did. He'd had lots of practice being nonchalant.

Gabriel going up the stairs rather than down surprised him, but it was convenient. While he waited for the angel to move on, the demon took out his sleek black pen and a business card - Anthony Crowley, Business Consultant - and scribbled a note on the back.

Tell John to feed Chicago.

It would be enough to let both Adam and John know that he'd be gone for an unspecified amount of time, but of his own accord and with some notice. Hopefully it would keep the man from worrying

After his sense of the Snob's presence had moved on, Crowley went upstairs, casually slid the card under Adam's door, and followed the trail to the access ladder.

Shit! he thought. He's going to fly...

Without feathers, the demon couldn't fly. He was hoping he could at least coast off the roof and make it to the ground unharmed. Then... the Bentley, he supposed. Making sure he remembered exactly where it was parked, Crowley eased his way into the attic, fitting his footsteps to Gabriel's on the dusty floor.

[dontcallmegabby]

It was cruel, perhaps; Gabriel was, after all, well aware that Crowley couldn't fly. But what meaning was there in the pursuit if the demon caught up to him too quickly?

He'd gotten little sense of where Belial was, in the brief moment he'd been aware of him; and had less idea still of where he should go next. But it was the idleness that was most painful, stuck in the manor while Belial faced a cosmos full of dangers. He had to do something, and that momentary slip had perhaps provided the opportunity, however hazy the plan in his mind.

He let his wings unfurl carefully, the waning afternoon sun picking out the gold highlights in white feathers. Adrenaline rushed through his veins, a conditioned response to the anticipation of flight as he stretched them gingerly to the sky. He hadn't had them out in quite some time.

Perching a moment on the edge of the roof, his gaze took in the splotches of colors making up the manor gardens below; and then, Crowley's presence near at his heels, the angel tipped himself over the edge, making sure that no mortal eyes would see him as he took flight.

[anthony_crowley]

If Crowley had been at all suspicious that he was being led along, the fact that Gabriel was going to make him use his wings despite their injury would have convinced him he was wrong. He just didn't think the angel could be that deliberately cruel, even to a demon. So much for that theory.

From the shadows, he watched Gabriel open his wings - a sight he probably hadn't seen in millennia - and it almost looked odd to see the slender figure with an extra set of limbs. He'd forgotten that they had that gold tint so unique to the archangel. Azir... other angels of his acquaintance had just white and he'd gotten used to that. On a purely aesthetic level, he could admit to their beauty and wondered vaguely what Belial thought of them. His silver with the red gash would complement them nicely, even if it weren't as clearly contrasting as black and whi... no, it wasn't the time for mourning again, though his recent conversation had sort of put him in that mood. Crowley had a job to do and he was going to do it.

When Gabriel was far enough away, the demon extended his sad looking wings, thin and scraggly with just the beginnings of new feather growth covering bare skin. Extending them fully with a faint wince, he stepped off the roof. Crowley half-glided and half-plummeted, managing to catch an updraft before he hit the ground. He landed with a stagger and a multitude of not-so-silent curses. Flexing the previously injured wing - that was going to really hurt tomorrow - he quickly tucked the spare limbs back and hurried for the Bentley.

As the demon jumped into the open car Duke-boy style, it started instantly and silently. Crowley put it into gear, and, catching sight of a flash of white, took off like a shot, watching the sky and trying not to be noticed.