It was a scene of uncharacteristic tenderness, and Aziraphale read heartbreaking sincerity in the lines of Crowley's figure when he clasped the injured man to him.
The angel was startled to realize that he had been thinking of John Constantine, owner of the Casual Sex Trenchcoat (which would likely need repairing, but that was no matter) as "ours". As his and Crowley's, or at least Crowley's. He hadn't felt so protective of a human in a very long, long time.
There was little for him to say; he had been, after all, dead when most of this had occurred. He couldn't help the little sigh of relief at their apology, however, like he couldn't help the bubbling of happiness somewhere above his belly over how sweet they looked.
Aziraphale had looked away after but a moment, raising his hand to cover the slight smile on his lips.
Such dear boys.
The angel stood when he heard the question, not a solid pull to his feet as he was exhausted, and came over, fussing with some of the other equipment that had been mildly disturbed with one hand and a lot of stretchy angel thoughts. He saw John's hands shake and quietly slipped a supportive arm around John's shoulders so that he could ease back to the pillows when he wanted.
"It's been too long, John. A month, nearly," he replied, somewhat sadly, and glanced at Crowley. "You're home now. We all are."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-05-05 07:37 am (UTC)The angel was startled to realize that he had been thinking of John Constantine, owner of the Casual Sex Trenchcoat (which would likely need repairing, but that was no matter) as "ours". As his and Crowley's, or at least Crowley's. He hadn't felt so protective of a human in a very long, long time.
There was little for him to say; he had been, after all, dead when most of this had occurred. He couldn't help the little sigh of relief at their apology, however, like he couldn't help the bubbling of happiness somewhere above his belly over how sweet they looked.
Aziraphale had looked away after but a moment, raising his hand to cover the slight smile on his lips.
Such dear boys.
The angel stood when he heard the question, not a solid pull to his feet as he was exhausted, and came over, fussing with some of the other equipment that had been mildly disturbed with one hand and a lot of stretchy angel thoughts. He saw John's hands shake and quietly slipped a supportive arm around John's shoulders so that he could ease back to the pillows when he wanted.
"It's been too long, John. A month, nearly," he replied, somewhat sadly, and glanced at Crowley. "You're home now. We all are."