(Untitled)

[lordofthesouth]

Date: December 27, 1999
Setting: Tadfield Manor, Crowley's Room
Status: Private - Belial, Crowley, John, Aziraphale, Gabriel
Summary: Belial draws up a contract.

Comments

[anthony_crowley]

Crowley had been sitting on his bed simply waiting. He knew it wouldn't do any good to look over the spell one last time or fret about. He just sat still, thinking calming thoughts.

When the knock came, he knew who it was. He crossed to the door and opened it. The door disturbed the air around it and Crowley caught a faint smell of... something. Raising an eyebrow a carefully measured fraction of an inch, he gestured to Belial to enter.

Closing the door behind him, Crowley turned to speak.

"You've had some time to think about my proposal and its possible consequences. What's your decision, Belial?"

[lordofthesouth]

Belial slid his tongue across his lips self-consciously, eyes flickering about the room to be sure they were alone.

The answer to his knock had come swiftly; it made him flitting, nervous.

He was about to defy the master that had held his leash for longer than he cared to think upon. It terrified him.

Sliding his hand into a pocket near his hip, he produced a long silver chain dangling his portion of John Constantine's sundered soul. It glowed, pale blue against his palm, and he held it up for Crowley to see.

"Have you prepared the proper contracts?"

[anthony_crowley]

"I have," said Crowley formally as he crossed to his nightstand and pulled out a small stack of parchment. He indicated the chair near his bed

[lordofthesouth]

Belial weighed Crowley's words carefully, declining to sit, and instead stood directly in front of the other demon while he spoke.

He wrapped the pendant's chain about his fingers, tangling them and untangling them between the familiar links, weighing the delicate orb. Having an object about for such a time left his fingerprint on it. He could feel the faint imprints of himself that years of handling it had left bits of himself stained on the surface of the glass. Gazing fondly.

He could have Gabriel. He would do this, for even a marginal chance of having Gabriel. And of being free of Lucifer. John would have a third of his soul delivered into trusted hands.

"Do you have a pen?" he whispered, voice cracking.

[lordofthesouth]

Belial rose fluidly, dark gaze held in rapt attention to the line of Crowley's jaw as he spoke.

Lips against lips, and his mouth tingled from the touch. He twisted his tongue out and caught the salty remnants of a tear that had wended its way down to his chin.

"Yes," he said, touching his fingers to his face, startled at his own display of submission, "I suppose it would be, wouldn't it?" Belial stared at Crowley's hand. Trust, then, is this odd sensation he felt. Genuine.

He clasped the outstretched hand and let himself be helped up, knees burning a bit from the scrape of the carpet when he'd gone down. Leaned heavily, wearily, against Crowley for a moment, eyes closed. Steaded himself, and smiled brilliantly.

[anthony_crowley]

Crowley caught Belial and held him gingerly. Feeling a little protective, he led him slowly toward the door, leaving the paperwork and soul piece behind. He wasn't careless, though. He couldn't afford to be on this day. A gesture at the closed door after they passed through it ensured that no one would disturb what was on the other side.

He then began to speak calmly, radiating confidence, disguising any trace of uncertainty or fear, and ignoring any lingering feelings.

"We're heading to the hospital now. John and Aziraphale are there already, making sure that everything is clean and ready. I've gone over this dozens of times, so you needn't worry about a thing."

Crowley wasn't entirely sure just who he was trying to reassure.

[lordofthesouth]

Belial could only nod in reply. His skin crawled with fear and anticipation, gooseflesh breaking out. The hairs on the nape of his neck stood up and the base of his spine felt chilled.

He would be removing a part of himself, his slavery, though he hardly knew how it all worked. Only that it involved cutting, and he would be awake to see it. Wondered what it would do him, hoped it wouldn't change him so much that no one would recognize him, wouldn't go wrong and leave him some half-there creature.

With a glance back at the locked room, he followed Crowley trustingly. This would work.