Author's Note:Thank you to soccerkeeper6 for the lovely review, it almost made me cry. :D For you, i am posting this short little chapter.
Disclaimer:If you've read this far, surely you've read the disclaimer at least twice.
Warning: Um, how can i say this without giving too much away? Violence, Rape, Angst, Death.

THIS CHAPTER HAS FINALLY RECIEVED THE EDITING IT SO DESPERATELY NEEDED! MY GOAL IS TO POST A LITTLE MORE BY MONDAY! HOPE TO SUCCEED! :D

Hastur smiled at the sight of blond locks being drenched in blood, and an angel's face covered in bruises and deep cuts, crying inconsolably, as he watched his demon on his deathbed in front of him. He saw a terrified, no wait, that was more of a grim face, yes, a grim face, staring up into Hastur's eyes, glaring at him, golden fiery eyes just visible because the lenses of those damn sunglasses he always wore were only hanging onto his face by the sheer will of Crowley. Hastur approached Crowley with a vodka glass filled with holy water.

"Go ahead, kill me, that's what you want isn't it? Oh and what a sweet way to go, same wretched way as your lover huh?" Crowley asked derisively.

Hastur thought, this was too simple, the angel was clearly in pain, but Crowley on the other hand looked serene, and totally fine with his eminent death. He had to find some way to pain the demon as well… and maybe add more anguish to the angel.

Hastur turned to the angel once again and smiled wickedly. He knew exactly what he'd do. Tightening the bonds on the demon, by hand, that way he'd be able to feel the blood stop mid-circulation. He turned to the angel who was trying to back up away from Hastur. Hastur grabbed Aziraphale by his hair, Hastur quite liked Aziraphale's hair, it was nice and soft. I mean right now it was matted up and practically dripping with blood, (really, no one body should be filled with so much blood) but it was still nicer than his course hair. He dragged Aziraphale to the nearby empty room. He miracled a bed inside and pushed Aziraphale onto it. Crowley realized what Hastur was doing just as Aziraphale did, they looked at each other in terror before Crowley tried getting up, tried to even stumble forward as Hastur held open the door watching Crowley squirm and try wriggling out of his confinements he watched as Crowley continued to trying to spread his useless wings, helplessly trying to fly over, to do anything, but it was useless, if he unfurled them, they would crash into his hands, they might get fractured and then what? Then he'd be even more useless, he fell over trying to crawl over and cursed the enchanted house, the house that made both Crowley and the Angel's powers nonexistent, the ones that doubled the strength of Hastur's. Hastur grinned wickedly again as he waved good bye tired of Crowley's useless futile attempts to save his angel. Hastur annoyedly pushed the angel back, away from the door, as he had somehow managed to get up from the bed and was trying to get out of the door. He locked the door behind him and turned his attention to the angel, wondering what it felt like to fell an angel this way. Crowley heard the protests and the breaking of bones, he heard Hastur's evil laughter, his pleasure in causing so much pain, Aziraphale sobbed, and screamed, and bit and hissed and put up a great fight, but he was too weak, his human body had lost too much blood.

Crowley heard his lover's sobs and started to cry, wanting so bad to be in Aziraphale's place, wishing his angel wasn't the one to be corrupted, he sobbed knowing that he couldn't do his one job, the only job, at least, that he took seriously. He had taken it upon himself to make sure Aziraphale never Fell, to make sure Aziraphale stayed an angel, and Crowley couldn't do anything but hear as his lover sobbed and cried "No!" and "Stop!" to no avail. Crowley seriously considered ending it right then and there, and drinking the holy water that sat precariously on the table. Maybe if he gave up his soul now, God would interfere and leave the angel in his grace. In fact, yes! That could work! Crowley inched his way to the small coffee table and to his death.

Aziraphale was trying really hard to fight off Hastur but he was too weak, all he wanted to do was sleep. He could only imagine what Crowley was going through, not being able to see the torture Aziraphale was going through but only hearing what occurred must've been awful. Aziraphale tried hard not to let out too much emotion, he tried not to scream or sob but at times he couldn't help it. He probably had Crowley worried sick with all the noise going on in here. He cried, and prayed and hoped someone up there would hear and send help before it was too late. But what if he was already corrupted? What if he wasn't an angel? Heaven, as far as he knew, didn't listen to the prayers of Fallen Angels, or if they did, they were usually ignored or treated as a trap. What if no one came?

Crowley had finally gotten to the table; he sat upright and had his mouth over the rim of the glass. He was just about to lift it when it occurred to him, he should probably say something to Aziraphale before tipping the contents into his mouth.

"I'm so sorry I can't do anything Zira, Please, forgive me, I'm so sorry, I love you," He shouted towards the door where the noise had stopped so they could both hear Crowley.

"It's not your fault Crowley, it was ineffable, this is how I end, I love you too."

"Now and forever?" came a muffled question.

"Now and forever." Aziraphale said fresh tears in his eyes wishing he could see Crowley through the door…

Crowley felt tears prickling his eyes as he once again brought his lips to the glass his glasses finally falling off his face. He picked it up with his mouth and the holy water filled his mouth. It ran down his throat, hot and thick, burning a little, causing his eyes to water more. He laid back as he had a coughing fit, his demon body trying to expel the holy poison. Oddly enough it left him whole. Maybe because he had been with the angel for so long he'd built a sort of immunity to it or something.

Hastur was alarmed by the sound in the other room and finished what he was doing. He headed to the door and saw Crowley hacking and coughing before the demon finally laid back head rolling to one side. Aziraphale ran frantically out of the room having been freed from his bonds long ago and ran to Crowley's dead form.

"Crowley, no, Crowley wake up dear, it's done, he's done, I'm fine, Crowley, please wake up, come on Crowley, show me your pretty eyes, you promised remember, you said until the end of the world, come on, Crowley, Crowley, Crowley!" The angel sobbed into Crowley's neck, hugging the demon close to him, willing him back to life begging God to spare Crowley, to take him instead, but, it just doesn't work that way. Hastur had left his dagger next to the vodka glass on the table. The one that could kill an angel with one strike. Keeping Crowley on his lap, Aziraphale took the knife in both hands. He glanced quickly at Hastur who was watching the scene unfold before him smiling cruelly at all the pain he'd caused. Quickly and without hesitation, Aziraphale brought the knife to his heart, twisted the handle and pulled it back out.

"Oh dear, look, I've gone and ruined your favorite suit with all my blood love." Aziraphale said wistfully as he fell alongside Crowley.

09/21/12 Made myself tear up a little with this. Also, after I edited it yesterday, I realized it's very similar to Romeo and Juliet, it wasn't intended to turn out like that though in case someone else saw it and wondered.

Yeah, that's right, it was all a dream! Don't worry, i don't kill off anyone, for a few more chapters at least, and when they do die, they deserved it. I hope you liked it soccerkeeper6, i'll try posting a bit more over the weekend.