(no subject)
Belial sits at the head of the table, shoulders straight. His face is pointed in all the wrong ways and Belial's eyes are coal black in color - pits of sulfur. Directly to Belial's left sits Vassago, another Prince of Hell, who happens to have the kindest face in the room. He's thick about the shoulders and long in the fingers, deep long brown hair to his shoulders and amber-fire eyes. Next to Vassago sits Phenex, someone more optimistic than Crowley himself, with grayed-red hair and bright orange eyes. Agares is last on that side, skinny as a corpse - with the same coloring - and fire in his eyes that leap to be angry. Lilith sits on Belial's other side, her wickedly curled hair draped careful over her breasts. Her face is perfect, but the lines in them spell a sense of exhaustion that comes with a huge responsibility. Flauros sits next to her, sporting fiery eyes and an awful expression on his full face. Flauros has his arms crosses over his chest and is staring at the table like it offended him. Alastor - The Executioner - actually has a smile on his face at the sight of Crowley, happens to look the scariest. His sword sits careful across his lap, black hair dripping into his dragonfire eyes.
Each one of them has three full pages, front and back, in front of them - pure white cotton resume paper - that lists Crowley’s accomplishments in the five thousand years since his last review. Next to that sits one, single-sided yellow pages that lists three transgressions from the past five thousand years - and that dinky yellow paper is exactly what Crowley is really worried about.
Lilith licks her finger and flips one of the white pages over. "Well, Crawly -"
"Crowley." Alastor corrects, eyebrows high. Crowley lets the side of his lip twitch upward.
Lilith's seductive eyebrow arches. Agares barks back. "We are to refer to the Earth-side demons by the name they were given Down Below. We agreed on that -"
Alastor snorts and opens his mouth to retort. Belial flips one of Crowley’s white pages over and Alastor stops before he starts.
"Google?" Belial says.
"And Amazon." Crowley adds. He feels like he's sweating through his suit jacket. Lilith makes a noise in her throat of approval and flips another one of his pages over.
"Starbucks." Phenex notes.
"Cell phones." Vassago mumbles.
"Shopping malls." Alastor says.
"Atomic bomb." Belial comments, skimming with his finger. All seven demons humm at the same time and flip the last white page over.
Lilith smiles and says. "Oh, Al - this was the guy you worked with for that occultist thing, right?"
Alastor humm’s and runs his finger under another listed accommodation. "One in the same."
Vassago laughs, a bark of a noise, and snorts out. "Yoko Ono?"
"Coach." Lilith adds with a purr. "And Tiffany. Very nice."
"Advertising time at the Super Bowl." Agares says with a smile that is more like a sneer. "They get better every year."
"I try." Crowley squeaks.
All the demons flip the last page over at the same time, and Crowley wonders if he's missing the signal for them to do it. It's damn intimidating. Crowley feels like his presence in unnecessary.
Lilith is the first to turn that last page over, switching her legs and leaning back in her chair. Her smile is stinking, and friendly. Crowley remembers her very well from back in the Beginning - and knows that, as positions go, Lilith is the big dog at the table. Belial may be the one who is directly in charge of his assignments - aside for Dagon, who's to busy for words with the fiasco that is the Holiday Cheer and Abundance of Minor Divine Intervention Everywhere and is actually absent from the review - but Lilith is younger and better and stronger then all of them. Alastor is the next to be done - Crowley doesn't have to worry about Alastor's support at all. That's two out of seven on his side. Better odds then he thought there would be.
"Your resume is more than acceptable." Belial says, voice horse. "More so then 90% of the other demons that we've seen."
"You're rather on the puny side thought." Lilith points out, gesturing with her long red finger nail. "Is your original form this small, or just your human?"
"They're about the same." Crowley is proud that his voice doesn’t crack.
Lilith nods. Flauros pushes the white paper away from himself and barks out his order. "Wings please."
Crowley unfurls his wings - which have been itching since he stepped into the room - letting them scrape the ceiling. He stretches them, as wide as he can - flexing and twitching - then relaxes them against his back. He feels small in comparison of his wings, dwarfed by their size, and he wonders when in the hell did they grow so much?....
Phenex and Agares share a look, then makes notes in blood-filled fountain pens on the side of Crowley’s resume. Belial stares at him for a moment longer, than wrinkles his nose and jots something down.
"I'm rather impressed with your influence, Crowley." Vassago says, starting on his front page again, pen poised - checking of specific things. "Especially the side work you've been doing in America. Your work in England is rather difficult, I understand - Belial informed us of the large amount of Heavenly Opposition that is station in the same place, and I’m rather surprised at the amount of things you've been able to do considering that."
Aziraphale's name and face flash across Crowley’s being, and he hopes to the ineffable power that they're not reading his mind. His wings shiver with it, but Crowley covers by resettling them on his back and sighing.
"R-rather difficult, but not impossible. It gets easier after enough practice."
"It's called skill, honey." Lilith says, crossing her arms under her breasts. "Don’t sell yourself short."
"Can we talk about his fuck up's yet?" Flauros says, smiling. Belial sighs and rolls his eyes.
Phenex starts this round. "You happen to have the shortest lit of transgressions as well."
"You saved twelve souls since your last meeting with Dagon." Agares remarks, writing a note on the yellow paper.
Crowley starts. "I did not me-"
"Dagon has almost eight demons on Earth." Lilith cuts him off. "He has explained the detrimental conditioning a demon receives that comes with living with humans for years. We've discussed your specific case in depth, seeing as you've been station on earth for as long as I have, and I've saved quite a few beings in my time just because I’ve been conditioned to do so as well."
"It's still no excuse." Flauros raises his voice over Lilith, eyes harsh. He's staring at her - and Crowley doesn’t think that the Demon of Anger is talking to him. "You are stationed up there to damn souls, not save them."
"You haven't lived up there." Phenex says, and Crowley counts him in his 'Win Over' box as well.
"I know our jobs - our reason for existence." Flauros continues, angry. His eyes are harsh when they land on Crowley again. "A transgression of saving souls is still a huge th-"
"It's acceptable." Belial says, and Crowley realizes that the Prince of Hell has been yelling at Flauros, not at the other minor demons. Carefully, Crowley moves Belial into his win column too. Belial waits until Flauros sits back to speak. "We don’t intend to penalize you for it."
"You've been cited for a 'Digressions of Conduct' here. What was that for?" Alastor asks Belial, who pulls out a larger file from thin air. Crowley's true name sits at the corner, and the file itself is huge. Crowley can see Commendation Notices, Body Appeals, vacation request, the assorted paperwork. Belial flips through his existence quickly.
"It seems that you were noted for an encounter with an Arc-Angel under unknown circumstances, and that nothing resulted in -"
Crowley speaks before he can stop himself. "That tool? Gabriel was being a complete and utter git and I told him off. We were surrounded by humans and he started it. I left before he could say anything in response. I figured that I shouldn't waste my time on some....retarded angle who was stupid enough to start something surrounded by humans for no reason other than to start something. I felt he made himself look stupid enough and didn't need me to help him embrace himself any further."
Silence. Crowley feels every pair of silted eyes on his face - analyzing, understanding.
Lilith laughs' first - followed immediately by Alastor, Vassago, Phenex, and Agares. Belial closes his file and fights to hide the smile on his face, shaking his head. Flauros looks furious.
"You! - That goes against everything - they're the Advisory! You should attack at any opportune moment, regardless - " Starts the fiery eyed demon. Belial slams his hand on the table - shutting everyone up instantly.
"You." Bites the Prince. "Shut the hell up. I am done hearing your shit. We are long past the days of caring about what They do at every waking moment and are now concerned with how we can be better than them. Wake up."
Flauros sucks his words back in, shock coloring his angry face. Belial stars at him with level eyes for another moment before moving back to look at Crowley. "We have decided not to do anything with this transgresion either."
"The last one is your basic body count." Lilith says quickly, marking something. "Boring Blablabla stop getting yourself killed sort of speech should go here. The amount of Body Paperwork you have accumulated, Crowley, is astounding."
"I try." Crowley says, thin.
"Over all," Belial leans forward, hands laced together. "You've done well. We have to review your file a few more times in the next month or so, but you'll hear our proposition soon enough. Badly done Crowley."
"Thankssss." Crowley hisses.
"We're done for the day then." Says Belial. "I would rather you say for a moment, Crowley - I have something to talk to you about."
Crowley nods as all seven of them stand at the same time. Flauros wastes no time getting out of the room, evaporating with a roar of a Hell Gate opening. Phenex gives Crowley a small smile and moves to leave with Vassago. The two talk on their way out the door - Vassago patting Crowley’s shoulder as they pass. Agares gathers his briefcase, materializes a pair of glasses, and leaves for his fancy car and large flat in Japan. Alastor claps him on the arm.
"Didn't know what a job you were doing up here." The Executioner says, small grin tugging at his lips. Crowley feels his hands shaking, but he's proud of the fact that his voice doesn’t.
"'S not that hard. Comes naturally, I guess."
"You're being humble Crowley." Lilith purrs, wrapping her arms under his wings and humming over his shoulders. Crowley flexes his muscles, and his wings fuss slightly so they settle more. He stops breathing for the time being, Lilith's sharp nails poised over important internal organs. "It's not flattering. You should stop."
"Thanksss, for the help that isss." Crowley says, and wonders when the Angel trained him to thank others when they do something for him. He finds is disgusting, but he can't help himself. Lilith laughs in his ear - soft - and Crowley, despite himself, feels something pull at his belly.
"I like you, Crawly. You helped me a lot back then. I would hate to have to pick you to die today." She says, kissing the shell of his ear, than evaporating. She leaves the scent of apples and blood, and the feeling of desire lingers deep in Crowley's chest.
Alastor snorts. "Bitch wanted you to follow her. Girl doesn’t know anything about you and yours, does she?"
He says it with a smile, but Crowley hears what he saying. He feels himself go pale, suddenly removed from the world, and all he can think is that They know.
They know.
"Come here." Belial barks, and Alastor claps him on the arm like Vassago did and moves out of the room, sword dragging on the floor behind him. Crowley moves toward the Prince without actually feeling himself walk. Belial gestures to sit, and Crowley does so numbly. Belial is reading over reports, looking exhausted in his borrowed body, long fingers checking arbitrary things. Crowley tries not to choke on his fear.
"You know what I want to talk to you about, don’t you?" Belial says, not looking at him.
Crowley hopes. He hopes so hard he almost prays. "Not a clue."
Belial stares, for a minute, and Crowley knows that there is no hope left. But then, after a hesitant - tense - moment, the Prince smiles, thinly, and sits back in his chair.
"Then you don’t need to hear me say that we know about it, because it's not happening. And you don’t need to hear that it's being ignored, as if it's not happening at all. But if anything does happen - and we are forcibly drawn to acknowledge what you’re not doing and who you’re not doing it with, then there might be some things to...discuses. If you know what I’m talking about, which you don’t..."
Crowley watched Belial's lips - his half sneer-smile never leaving his face - and understands.
He was given permission to - his job had just said that he could -
"Nope." Crowley says, standing - his back ridged. He isn't sure what he's feeling - he isn’t sure that he's feeling anything at all.
"You're a good Demon, Crowley." Belial says as Crowley's fingers tips touch the door. The Princes' fingers are stepped, eyes dark. "I would hate to have to fuck you up."
Crowley is proud that his voice doesn’t crack. “Me too.”
Crowley flees.
Crowley drinks and drinks and drinks, until he can’t remember what just happened or who he is or what he is.
Crowley stays in his bed for a week, head buried in his covers and his head to fucked up for him to understand any of his thoughts. Crowley is sure that the last time this happened it wasn't anything like what it was - that intimidating - being able to breathe the fresh brimstone and to see the flames in their eyes. Crowley has at least seventeen nightmares in four days - where he wakes up screaming - the feeling of falling and the smell of feathers, bloody, fresh in the air.
The smell of apples sticks to his skin.
He misses the smell of books, but he can't bring himself to get up and see Him. Not now....not yet.