24 Dec 2018
“Why don’t you just heal yourself, then?” Aziraphale asked. The demon looked about an inch away from discorporation.
Crowley struggled to push himself into an upright position, thin frame wracked with another burst of coughing as he did so. When he finally recovered enough control to look up at the angel, there were flecks of blood on his lips.
“Well, I would have done,” he said, rather petulantly, “only some bloody bastard had to go and bless me, didn’t he?"
England, 1349, the middle of the 14th century. The black death rages, and Aziraphale has to help a dying demon escape from a church.
Bookmarked by SpaceStark
24 Jul 2019