For theangel_cas

[soulkink]

Crowley had been caught.  He'd somehow expected anger, he'd expected destruction to come quickly; he'd been wrong on both counts.  Instead what he'd had was Lucifer's gentle voice, speaking in quiet, soothing tones as he tortured the errant, rebellious demon that had tried to put a bullet in his brain and erase him from the planet.

However, the

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[theangel_cas]

Castiel had been busy with his search for his Father, flying around from spot to spot. The search was not going well and he had so many distractions. For one thing, he was unable to find Crowley, and while that tended to happen from time to time, Castiel had been trying to keep a close eye on the demon ever since Gabriel had given him those wings

[soulkink]

Crowley's breathing was still coming fast, though he seemed to calm when they shifted to the motel room. It was somehow comforting, the familiar surroundings, no matter how often he tended to mock them. Low brow, classless, usually paired to some jibe at Dean or another. And yet, it lessened the panic, the crushing sensation that Lucifer would find him, would take him back to the deep, dark, cold, would break his other wing so he couldn't fly.

"Lucifer.. found me."

He didn't think it needed much more explanation than that. And what else could he say? The sort of tortures that Lucifer seemed to employ weren't simply pain, humiliation or violation. It was a cocktail wrapped up in frozen warmth, a smile, a caring voice that stole every last secret down to the ones he didn't even admit to.

His hazel eyes weren't as bright as usual, and he curled fingers in the lapels of Castiel's trenchcoat like he was lost without it.

[theangel_cas]

The motel room was sparse and uninteresting, but it was familiar to Castiel and the last place anyone would look for Crowley.

Castiel wrapped an arm around Crowley's waist, taking his weight easly. He pulled Crowley closer. He should really have fought that urge, but he didn't even try.

"It's okay. You're safe now. I've got you."

He wasn't even sure what the best way to handle this was. He needed to patch Crowley up and keep him comfortable, but he also needed to ward the room. He was hardly a match for Lucifer and wouldn't fare much better than Crowley had. If they were found now, they would both be as good as dead... if they were lucky.

He moved them towards one of the beds, shifting alone slowly so he wouldn't aggravate the demon's injuries.

[soulkink]

Crowley leaned into the warmth of Castiel's body, he liked the grip of that arm around his waist, the way the angel held him close. Not that he wanted comfort or warmth. He wanted to pretend that even face-to-face with Lucifer, with the sinister tortures at the slender fingers of his vessel, that Crowley was still smug and above being rattled by such things.

Safe.

It was something that he hadn't conceived of since the archangel had found him, and it seemed both strange and fitting that it ended up being here. Crowley was a survivor, but death almost seemed preferable to going back to the icy-cold darkness. Almost.

Crowley let Castiel move them onto the bed, his face pressing into the side of the angel's neck, a brief whisper of lips against skin. He was rattled, and his wing hurt in excruciating sorts of ways with every moment, but things were better.

He didn't have a snarky comment just yet. Give him another five seconds.