Revenge by AngelLover89
Summary: Gabriel arrives at Crowley's flat with dire news that brings a blast from the pre-apoca-lapse past.
Categories: General Fanfic Characters: Aziraphale, Crowley, other angels
Genres: Angst, Drama
Warnings: Angst (mild)
Chapters: 1 Completed: No
Word count: 837 Read: 239
Published: 04 Mar 2009 Updated: 04 Mar 2009
I own nothing except the idea, all names are (C) NG / TP.
Someone knocked on the door.
Crowley grumbled and rolled over irritably.
Moments later, a more insistent knock.
Crowley's eyes popped open as his essence shuddered. He sat up, heart pounding, and leapt from the sleepy safety of silk sheets to the doorway of his bedroom.
"We know you're in there, Gadr--"
"All right all right, I'm bloody here!" Crowley snarled, throwing open the door of his flat. "Just don't say it again!"
The pounding of his heart was abruptly brought to a standstill as he registered the two angelic beings standing in the doorway. The color drained from his face; nostrils and pupils dilated in a heavy fear that draped across the demon's naked shoulders. He let go of the door and swallowed. "G-Gabriel," he stammered, leg reaching backwards to carry him a step away from the archangel.
"For once, we mean you no direct harm, Gadre'el," said the angel, in soft dulcet tones, a voice infused with ethereal harmony. It confused Crowley's ears, and he had to grab the edge of the door as his legs nearly buckled beneath him. He sighed, resting his forehead against the thick rectangle of wood. "Please, for the sake of my essence, at least, call me Crowley, or else I'll forget that statement."
Gabriel shrugged one shoulder fluidly. "We come bearing news of Izraphael."
Crowley's gaze snapped straight into Gabriel's as the first pang of fear crept into his eyes. "Az -- Aziraphale?" he whispered. "W-what's wrong with him??"
The archangel stepped to the side, waved his hand, and a portal appeared in the hallway. "Your presence is requested."
Crowley gaped. "You...you mean," he stuttered, trying to make sense of things where little could be made, "I-I'm supposed to... to go...there?"
Gabriel nodded once, curtly. His bright silver eyes bored into Crowley's amber, slitted ones. "To the Realm of the Lord on High, Most Exalted, the Kingdom of Christ Jesus the Eternal Light." He raised his chin slightly.
* * *
Crowley stared unbelievingly at the floating glimpse of Heaven. His heart dropped like a brick. If they were sending him to Heaven...
...with news of Aziraphale...
"How--how bad is it?" he whispered, clutching the doorframe as if it were a lifeline. His terrified eyes darted from one angel to the other. Gabriel merely gestured at the portal, and said discreetly, "You may wish to dress properly, Gadre'el."
Then Crowley realized he was clad only in black boxers. Feeling a blush creep up into his face, he glanced at his immortally slender body, then back at Gabriel, around whose mouth was dancing a hint of laughter. Haughtily he manifested a customary black suit and pair of sunglasses, and all but bolted for the portal.
* * *
When Crowley arrived, he was only just saved from collapsing to the ground by Gabriel's steadfast grip on his arm. The demon had forgotten the enormous downward tug on his essence he felt in this holy place; it was rather like trying to walk with several tons of extra weight distributed throughout one's body. Steadying himself, he blinked... and all was forgotten as his eyes lit upon Aziraphale.
The angel was suspended amid what appeared to be particles of golden dust and glittering threads of silver filament. His arms were raised almost parallel to his shoulders, hands hanging limply; his body was completely bare, showing multiple cuts and gashes, save for a simple cloth sash around his waist. The demon circled Aziraphale's front, and then he drew in a sharp breath, almost a hiss, as his eyes alighted on the upper half of Aziraphale's unmoving body.
The principality's once-white wings were torn, tattered, and covered with drying blood, his shoulder and flight muscles ripped nearly to shreds; whatever had attacked him had wanted to make sure he would almost certainly never even flutter a feather again.
As he came full circle, Crowley caught Gabriel's eye. "What happened?" he demanded of the archangel. "Who did this to him?" He began a second circle round the unconscious angel's body, neither noticing nor caring about the silver filaments that swirled around the angel and burned the demon whenever they touched him.
"Apparently a pack of seemingly renegade demons led by a Duke of Hell, from the looks of the report," said the archangel. "Look at his back; there seems to be carved something in your tongue. We can't make it out."
Obediently Crowley looked at the angel's ravaged back again. This time he did see a series of lines writ upon Aziraphale's skin. Crowley squinted behind his sunglasses as he read it, and then let out a hiss of rage as the comprehension dawned on him.
It was indeed demonic tongue. Crowley knew who had written it, but it was not so much the author of the message than the contents themselves. Only two words had been carved into Aziraphale's back, but it was enough to make Crowley's blood boil:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
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