(no subject)

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Date: February 1st, 2001
Setting: Tadfield Manor, outside of the hospital wing.
Status: Private - Aziraphale, Crowley.
Summary: Aziraphale is in the Manor. So is Crowley.


The settling in took almost no time at all, and so Aziraphale tried sleeping again, now that he was home. The result had been hours of reading, and when the dawn came he attempted, even then, to sleep, but it was of little use.

He went down for breakfast, and lunch, and tea. He did not see Gabriel at all, whom he was expecting, nor Belial with him, nor Ellie or John, nor many of the Manor residents. The angel pretended, too, and almost fooled himself into thinking that he wasn't looking out the corner of his eye, listening for familiar footsteps of two men inseparable.

Worried, after the silence of only a day, and Adam's unsaid answers, Aziraphale found himself in the hall leading to the hospital wing, patting his tweed jacket down where crumbs from biscuits at tea had fell. He could tell, before he put his hand on the door, that Gabriel couldn't possibly be inside, nor Belial either, and so no chance of conversation over ice cream.

Sighing, the angel entered anyway, letting the door swing shut behind him. There had been recent use of the wing, of course, and there was still a patient or two behind curtains, but none as wholly familiar to him as Gabriel, and he was in little mood to be courteous when he was so unsettled.

Something had happened, hadn't it?

Turning abruptly, he placed a hand on the door, and opened it to leave - perhaps Gabriel had sneaked off to a convenient closet somewhere - just as the knob turned from the other side.

Comments

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

He'd tried. Every day for nearly a week, Crowley had drawn on his still limited strength to try to heal the significant damage done to his wings, but he hadn't managed to do much good. In fact, this particular day, his concentration had slipped and he'd ripped off a scab before healing the wound beneath which only caused him to bleed heavily all over the duvet and weaken him further.

It was no good. He was going to need Gabriel's help. The demon winced, his pride stinging more than his broken limbs. He didn't like being indebted to the Messenger, didn't like the frosty atmosphere, didn't like asking for help, and especially didn't like putting his wings in the hands of an archangel, but he had to, and soon, if he ever wanted to fly again.

At least he had a bargaining chip. Gabriel wouldn't like it, but he wouldn't have a choice. If he wanted any news of his lover, he was going to have to heal the demon.

Jaw set in determination, Crowley set off for the hospital wing ready to do battle. Sensing the angelic aura on the other side of the door, he pushed it open to find Aziraphale standing there looking like he always had. What the...

"Fuck," he said, and turned to leave again.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

It's true; the shock of the familiar - so incredibly familiar, two, three months seemed nothing - face made him freeze, unnecessary breath catching. Then Crowley moved away, and Aziraphale realized, suddenly, that he was going to leave, and reacted, moving forward with a hand outstretched, as if to catch his sleeve.

"No, wait-!"

He could not let this - any - opportunity pass.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley jerked his arm away, still uncomfortable with being touched - much more so by the one creature he'd always craved it from. How did one go from intimate touches to none at all?

"Piss off, Aziraphale," he muttered. "You're good at that."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

His heart sunk, when he felt the abrupt yank out of his hands, before he'd even grasped the slightest dark thread.

It was funny that they said that some truths, when spoken, could make you feel like you were being stabbed. That was a truth, too, he discovered now.

"My dear," he said quietly, his face stricken. "I would that we would have a conversation."

His voice quieted further.

"Please."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

From his place in the doorway, Crowley looked past Aziraphale into the depths of the hospital but couldn't find any evidence that Gabriel was around. Then he looked back into the currently empty hallway. Anything rather than look at the angel standing there as if nothing had happened. As if nothing had changed. As if Crowley's universe hadn't had to be entirely rebuilt a dozen times over the last year and a half.

"I have nothing to say to you," he snarled.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

After six thousand years, Aziraphale knew well enough when Crowley wasn't, exactly, comfortable. And on a scale...

"Would you listen, my dear?" His voice cracked and he cleared it, quickly. "I want to confess... I want to tell you what happened. I never said it all, before." When we were lovers, and I should have, Aziraphale thought, watching the demon intently.

"It wasn't very fair to you." He sighed. "I wasn't very fair to you."

It was important that he got his point across, though. So much depended on the few minutes Crowley would spare him. Their friendship. Their Arrangement. Their... whatever it had been.

"So, please. A drink, just that, and then if you wish me to leave you alone, I will."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley watched him suspiciously, eyes narrowed. He'd always thought he could read Aziraphale like the angel read one of his books. Maybe he'd been deluding himself all this time... "No shit, Sherlock. It took you four months to realise that?"

He carefully crossed his arms over his chest. "Why now?"

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

If anyone looked at them now, facing off in the hallway, both stubborn as nails, he or she or it would believe they were sworn enemies, staring each other down.

In truth, the angel's mouth was only dry as he repeated the "Four?" in his head, shocked. Had it really been so long?

"Because I have considered our... argument, and I want - if we're going to be so separated - to know that you knew what was what. That we were clear and honest and this isn't some silly mistake blown out of proportion, when we both know it's not about some minute detail. It's no good to make assumptions; I think we both can appreciate that." He didn't make the statement with any particular inflection, but his ears were going red. All that silly behaviour of his with John, and Ellie...

Crowley hadn't said no yet, though. That was far more than he had dared to hope for, so Aziraphale waited, hoping.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

The demon well knew that their problems hadn't stemmed from one misunderstanding or even a series of them. John had been right. They just didn't trust one another enough to be honest. Crowley had tried, but he'd never felt those efforts to be reciprocated, even in the least important matters. He still couldn't figure out why the angel had just never come right out and said, 'no, I'm not the father of Uriel's baby'.

Scowling, Crowley looked for Gabriel once more and sighed, resigned. He was already feeling like shit, so talking couldn't make his mood that much worse. And the angel would insist on it some time, pushing and pushing until he gave in. He might as well get it over with now.

"Aziraphale, in six thousand years we've never been 'clear and honest'. What the hell makes you think we can start now?"

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

...Resignment.

The joy of it overwhelmed him, made his eyes sharp, checking and double-checking and yes, triple-checking that his observation was correct, that it wasn't an illusion, that Crowley was actually... giving in.

"We could try, at least. At least that. What have we to lose, precisely?" He offered Crowley a pained smile, wondering what this would look like in retrospect. "Crowley."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley stared at him blankly, unblinking. It was true. They didn't have anything to lose. It had already been lost.

"What?"

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"You just... look like you needed to sit down for a moment, my dear." He didn't ask, Are you all right? because it was a stupid, stupid question, when they both clearly weren't, and hadn't been, and weren't likely to be for a while. But there was something exhaustive about his posture, and the angel hadn't forgotten that he'd caught Crowley coming to the hospital wing. "We'll go the library, if that's all right. For a bit of privacy."

He was afraid to move first lest he spooked Crowley, afraid to leave in case his nerve failed him, or Crowley's nerve failed him. "Let's head off together, then, shall we? There's tea, of course, but I'm sure we could find a decent wine."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

He did need to sit down. He was slightly anemic from blood loss and his powers were too weak at the moment to rectify that. But Crowley didn't want to look weak, so he just turned and headed for the stairs, not checking or caring if Aziraphale was following. Instead he was trying to figure out what he'd say if the angel asked why he'd been on his way to the hospital.

"No wine for me," he managed. The last thing the demon needed was something to thin out his blood further or cloud his judgment. This would take whatever wits and strength he had left.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Very well," Aziraphale consented, following behind after a thorough check of the hall. "I'll put on a pot of tea," and there was one, steaming, when they arrived, the small table set and loaded with cream, milk, and sugar.

Crowley looked ill, even in the dim light of the library, and his aura - his look - wasn't well. If angels had instincts they would be screaming, telling him something was very wrong. "Oh, do sit down, the chairs here are very comfortable." He bit his lip, keeping his concern back, remembering the level of familiarity where he could, at least, offer him a hand into the chair, and help him settle comfortably in.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Sitting gingerly, but trying not to look like he was doing any such thing, Crowley took a cup of black tea, if only to have a reason for sitting near the edge of the chair. The warmth was comforting in his hand.

"I don't have all day, Aziraphale. What's this about? Say what you wanted to say, because I've got things to do."

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Hovering at first, then ignoring the lure of the opposite chair, the angel stood, leaning faintly against the edge of the chair.

"Well, Uriel. I'll start with her. You've seen the child - Bran, if I recall correctly - or you've spoken with someone, or you knew, along the way, that it couldn't possibly have been me. You've seen his parentage. It's not even an angel, even if it is immortal: a Horseperson, one of light eyes. Pollution, or Pestilence, although it doesn't matter, does it? It shouldn't have been an argument, either, but I took the wrong tack, over a simple gift. I wanted to help out with the child, as she had so few others offering. Only trying to help, even if the gift - pink tartan clothing, since we're being completely honest - would have left you mocking me for centuries. I didn't deny it immediately because I was disappointed that you couldn't have enough faith to simply laugh it off for what it was, although perhaps I'd given you enough cause to doubt, and hadn't realized it."

He sighed, tired. "I was worried, too. I was worried about Oscar, that you were insecure and silent when you should have asked me... The appropriate reaction to finding some sort of affection beyond our Arrangement would not have been falling asleep for a century as the best course of action, either, but there were other factors. And yes, I felt - was starting to - feel the same about you, but without you, for so long, I looked for friendship elsewhere and it became more along the way. There is no comparison to what we had, and there shouldn't be.

"When I fretted over you I also wondered how you felt having me as a first, and whether we worked, and what you wanted. I would not have continued to bring the issue of sex - yes, there, I did say it, you can blush if you like - if I was secure that you were happy with it. But the truth is, as far as that goes, I enjoyed last Christmas, and merely sharing a bed, just as much. Although I did, er, enjoy it, though, considerably.

"What else? Ellie, and the rest? That was immaturity, really. It wasn't exactly outright jealousy, but it felt close, and I simply didn't know what to do but say something. It was petty, unfair, and I'm sorry. I am. I hadn't expected... and I didn't trust you, did I. Arcane superstitions about showing too much skin, I suppose. Of all the things to keep from millennia of religious ideals." He half-chuckled, although it wasn't funny.

"It's sort of ironic, you know. We went from trusting each other in the Arrangement to being unable to when we went further. I didn't want to lose a friendship because we chose to have a deeper relationship. It's too high a cost, my dear. Far too high." The angel clasped his pudgy hands, looking directly at Crowley, letting his pause hang in the air. Then, moment broken, he glanced at Crowley's stiffness.

"And I think we should discuss what happened while I was gone, if you want honesty."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Staring at the angel in some slight shock - it was possibly the longest speech he'd ever heard him make without the benefit of alcohol - Crowley was silent a moment trying to marshal his thoughts. First off, he was annoyed. He didn't appreciate Aziraphale having the physical advantage of standing and it was painful to look up, so he didn't. Instead he snapped, "Sit your arse down."

Taking a shallow breath, he began. "I haven't seen Uriel's bastard child, and I don't care to, whoever the fuck the father is. It's not Pollution, though. He's been lip-locked with Famine since last Christmas at least. But imagine my surprise that no one was feeling particularly sympathetic after she got herself got knocked up. Only an idiot would do it and she deserves to Fall," he snarled vehemently. "Only your side's playing favourites again, isn't it? Tali? Torch him. Michael? Dump him. Uriel? Oh, poor misunderstood darling. She's a crap excuse for an archangel and is sinning left and right, but there's still some spark of the divine, so let's give her ten more chances." It wasn't said particularly bitterly. Crowley had come to terms with the utter unfairness of it. But he wasn't sure how much Aziraphale had understood of the situation or what the Manor residents as a whole thought of the delusional bitch.

"For your information, I didn't remotely believe Loki when he told me it was your kid. I came to tell you because I thought it would amuse you." It wasn't the entire truth, but near enough. At the time he'd thought it unlikely, but not impossible. "That's what people are supposed to do, right? Communicate? But what the hell was I supposed to think when you wouldn't deny it? No, you'd rather I think that you'd cheat on me than admit to buying ugly baby clothes and submit to a bit of light teasing.

"And don't you dare talk to me about having faith. I'm a demon, not some lost little sheep you can lead back into the fold. And not a mischievous child or however you view me. I enjoy the evil things I do. That's my entire purpose and you knew that going in. If I don't have 'faith' and I don't trust you, I have a damn good reason. You never gave me cause to."

Oh, dear Adam, this was going to be just like last time. The words poured forth in an angry torrent, the odour of burned bridges heavy in the air. Four months of thinking about this every day had never led to any conclusions. Any understandings. Any closure...

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"And how dare you insinuate that it was my responsibility to ask you about horse face? What indication did you ever give that you'd be willing to talk about him? I tried a couple of times and you just changed the subject, shutting me out like you always do. You never talk about anything important. Besides, my sleeping through the 19th century had nothing to do with you, so don't flatter yourself. We've been separated for much longer and you've always been able to control yourself before. Do not blame your indiscretions on me. That wasn't my fault. It was entirely your own choice.

"What the fuck kind of angel goes around sleeping with humans anyway? Married humans? You're worse than Uriel. If you wanted me, you should have waited for me. What's a hundred years one way or the other? That's nothing to us. But you've always been the more sexual one, haven't you? Despite all the coy blushes and inability to even say the word, you're always the one pushing for it, initiating it, so perhaps I shouldn't be surprised after all. But how the hell am I supposed to know if I'm happy with it? I have no basis for comparison."

Crowley's throat was tight as the pounding in his temples matched the throbbing in his back. But he had to say his piece. He wasn't going to let Aziraphale blame him for this. The demon had made his own choices. He'd put his life on the line to save John and Belial. He'd spoken with Adam and his decisions were made. If this wasn't clear, he might not ever have another chance to speak. So he continued.

"About Ellie - you know I have no particular modesty about appearing in public without clothes. If you had a problem with that, you should have told me. I can't read your bloody mind. She doesn't have that modesty either, being what she is. But it wasn't that you just didn't trust me. You didn't trust her, either. And you didn't trust us because we're demons; despite the fact that the angels around here have acted far sluttier than the demons. Ellie is a single succubus. By rights and by nature, she can sleep with anyone she wants to, but as far as I know, she hasn't jeopardized anyone's established relationship while she's been here. If you want to suspect all demons of infidelity, be my guest. At least I know you haven't singled me out in your suspicions. But if you're going to be a stereotypically prejudiced angel, do it somewhere else. I get enough of that condescending holier-than-thou bullshit without you adding to it."

Taking another of those shallow-deep breaths, Crowley tried to will his heartbeat to slow; to stop trying to push what little blood he did have left around his body. The movement only succeeded in making him faintly dizzy, but his effort failed and only sapped more of his energy. Why did Aziraphale have to come back now?

"Fine," he snapped. "More sins you want to confess and/or conveniently ignore?"

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

It was somewhat a measure of how far they'd drifted apart that Aziraphale was still relieved that Crowley speaking to him. It was turning out like last time, yes, but last time they had argued because they cared about the outcome. If it was a forgone conclusion that they'd never matter to each other then this argument now would not be happening.

Sitting now, worriedly, across from Crowley, he hesitated. Any offer of help would be cut off, surely, as well as any actual appendages offered to support.

"It was a mistake that we didn't speak then, yes. The truth of the matter didn't matter as long as I told it to you, rather than expecting you to know. Very well, then something of the sort won't happen again, since we're communicating."

He picked up an empty china cup, looked at it, and set it down. "I also didn't mean faith as you seemed to have taken it. If there was a single thing that I understood, it was that I could not 'reform', nor, you should know, did I have any desire to do so. Never did, actually. You were always going to be yourself, even if I privately worried about my status. I think I'd've run out of chances, don't you? Even with favouritism, as you so put it.

"I mentioned why I was upset about Ellie to you out of an explanation for my own actions. I did so, just now, because I've realized it, and I won't have the same ideas as before."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

It was true. Crowley did still care for Aziraphale, even if he didn't like him very much. However, that only meant that the angel still had the power to wound and he was seemingly putting it to good use.

"You selfish bastard," the demon began. "You call this communication? Trying to get my sympathy without answering a single one of my concerns? This is exactly why it never would have worked. You assume what you like and ignore what you don't and you can bloody well take your 'won't happen again' and fuck yourself with it. You're damn right it won't happen again."

He slammed down his tea cup and stood stiffly, ignoring the angry flare in his mid-back, and made for the door.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"My dear-"

The angel rose as he did, meaning to draw him back and press a cup of tea into him before the demon passed out, but the saner half of him finally took over, informing the angel loudly that he wasn't the one to help as he wasn't exactly going to be allowed to, and it was best if he let Crowley seek out help from someone else. At least the demon wouldn't be in so much obvious pain.

His knees buckled a little as he recalled, frightfully clearly, other times (http://community.livejournal.com/neutral_omens/52939.html#cutid1) when he had been able to help (http://community.livejournal.com/outside_omens/799.html?thread=3359#t3359), and he sank desolately back onto the library chesterfield, staring after the demon's retreating back.

There was a time when he would have gone after Crowley, pulled him back, but (http://community.livejournal.com/neutral_omens/31741.html?thread=329213#t329213)this problem of communication (http://community.livejournal.com/neutral_omens/31741.html?thread=333309#t333309) and lack of trust (http://community.livejournal.com/neutral_omens/52939.html?thread=734411#t734411) had been coming for quite some time, and would take more than one conversation to solve, even if they never did "happen again".

But he'd try, later.