Summary: Crowley is so Done and Luci!Feels. Also, the author tries at footnotes and fails wonderfully.
Chapter Two
See, the thing about Crowley is that he's slow to anger.
In most instances he is merely mildly annoyed, or severely annoyed in the case of dealing with Upstairs. In fact, throughout his existence both before Falling and After, there had only been three instances of true anger from the demon.
The first, had been the Fall.
Or Rather, Lucifer's fall. Samael had been his most beloved brother, and none had ever seen the gentle Healer rage until he'd attacked Michael after watching her throw her twin from the Silver City. The wrath he reigned on the warrior had been unlike anything they'd ever seen, and it had only been Amenadiel's strength and his own nature that had kept him from killing the younger Archangel.
The second had been after his own Fall, when he'd realized that She planned to kill children but save Noah and his family.
He'd raged and despaired in kind, saving as many of the children as he could fit in the deeper depths of the man's arc. He'd stopped praying for nearly a century afterwards, full of anger and pain, his heart weeping for those he hadn't been able to save.
The third had been that day over twenty-five years ago, when he'd found Aziraphale's bookshop burning.
He'd been furious that someone had dared to take his angel from him.
He'd screamed his fury to the world, anything to mask the overwhelming grief and agony curling through him because for so long it had been him and Aziraphale.
Him and his angel…and someone had taken him away.
It was only when he'd been drowning his woes in that bar that he'd finally been able to push past the anger and grieve.
Then Aziraphale was alive but discorporated and everything was alright again.
(It wasn't. It had taken months for him to stop having nightmares, but he'd never admit that.)
This said, as he took in the visage of the woman standing in front of him, her green-blue eyes full of warmth, he felt the familiar stirrings of rage, especially as that name left her lips.
She who'd stood by and watched him burn.
Who'd listened to his screams and done nothing.
Who'd he'd seen briefly while in hell only to be pushed aside because all she truly wanted was Lucifer.
Who'd been there when Lucifer had, in the worst of his insanity, had turned that pain and anger on him.
Who'd been there when he'd stripped his brother of those memories and of the madness, finally able to get close enough to heal him, if only slightly.
When he'd locked himself away as he destroyed himself over and over until the madness waned, because at least he was the only one suffering.
She who had forsaken him when he'd failed to stop Lucifer from Falling.
Who'd struck him from the memory of those below the rank of Archangel…including his Aziraphale.
It hurt to see her again, an ever-burning wound and as with most things he covered that hurt with anger.
True Anger.
"Don't call me that." He snarled, and he felt more than saw Warlock flinch beside him. He wanted to calm, wanted to keep his godchildren from seeing this side of him, but with every moment his gaze stayed locked on hers his rage burned brighter.
Hotter.
It could only be called a miracle when Amenadiel spoke, drawing his attention from her.
"Brother…you fell?"
His lips curled into a sneer, and he glared at the elder angel from behind his shades
"No," He sneered, "I just decided to play demon for a day."
One of the humans stepped forward. "You don't need to be a dick," he snapped. "He's just asking questions. Who the hell are you anyways?"
He went to snark at the man, but Lucifer- and wasn't that a bloody surprise- finally spoke.
"Raphael, how did you Fall? And why did I never know?"
"Why do you care? Don't you have apocalypses to set into motion? Humans to punish?"
Lucifer's frown deepened. "I'm on vacation." His voice darkened. "And I'm confused how you, the demon that betrayed me, my most skilled tempter, is the same older brother that wouldn't dare harm anyone."
The red head heaved a soft sigh, shifting until he was shielding his godchildren from view. His eyes, still hidden, were full of turmoil as they met those of his family.
"Yes, well, after you fell…it was decided that I was the one who put those thoughts in you head in the first place. After all, I had asked questions, dangerous questions and…Father was not pleased. I fell not long after you, yourself, did and my name was struck from the memories of the younger angels as punishment."
The devil frowned. "I- how did I never know? You are powerful enough that I should've felt you the moment you stepped into Hell-"
"I don't know!" The demon snapped, baring his teeth at the younger man, who flinched back. "I. Don't. Know! I found you in those first centuries and you made it clear that not only did you know who I was, you were not in your right mind. Your lieutenants sent me up here to "cause trouble" and I rarely went back!"
Amenadiel frowned, stepping forward as if to defend their younger brother and Crowley took a deep breath, stepping back as the older man went to speak.
"Look," He cut in before he could. "I obviously made a mistake in coming here. I'm gonna go. You all can work out your gaps in knowledge amongst yourselves." Turning sharply on his heel, he went to leave, freezing as a deceptively gentle hand curled around his wrist.
"Raphael, my son-" The ginger haired man sent her a glare darker than any he'd worn that evening.
"That's not my name!" Soft. Deadly. And yet he might as well have yelled it for all the weight it carried as he yanked away from his mother. With nary a word he grabbed the wrists if both Ella and Warlock and stormed away, both younger adults following with matching expressions of worry. To the shock of the LAPD, Ella didn't even glance back to check on them¹.
She wants to. Really she does, but she's never seen her favorite uncle this upset and everything in her is rebelling against the sight.
*/*
Raphael had Fallen.
Raphael had Fallen.
No matter how many times he repeated it to himself, it didn't seem to compute.
Before the Great War, Raphael had been the Archangel closest to the lower ranks. He made it his business to get to know everyone, to make sure they knew he would be there to heal their hurts and with a warm smile to brighten them.
Then came his rebellion and he'd tried his hardest to keep his older brother from having to be involved.
Then his Twin had thrown him from the Silver City and he'd heard nothing of his brother since. Instead, he'd thrown himself into ruling Hell and punishing the humans his Father loved. He'd assumed that the older archangel was disappointed in him and wanted nothing to do with him.
He felt his eyes burn red and he felt his rage building as he turned that hellfire gaze on his mother who was staring in the direction Raphael had fled in. Beside her Daniel was trying aimlessly to garner her attention.
"When," He began, the anger in his voice drawing everyone's attention, including hers. " When were you going to tell me- tell us that Raphael had Fallen?"
She bit her lip, the guilt in her eyes almost too much to bear, but he couldn't stop the words as they left his lips.
"How many people still know of him? HOW MANY, MOTHER?
She glanced at Amenadiel.
"Only the upper Angel's. Your father-"
He bit back a sneer. "Did you know? When I asked you- when you swore that everyone was alright, just angry, Had he already fallen?"
He could see her answer before she spoke it and he shook his head. Chloe placed a placating hand on his shoulder, reminding him of the presence of his human friends. Confusion danced in the eyes if those that didn't know or believe him when her told them he was the devil, but Linda seemed to be contemplating something. Maze was frowning, irritation bright in her gaze as she muttered to herself. He didn't know or care what her problem was at the moment. Not with betrayal and anger and grief coursing through him.
He wanted to say something, anything to explain what had happened and yet nothing was coming out. Instead, he shook his head and walked over to the elevator, hoping that he'd have the words when he saw them again the next day. For now, he was gonna get completely trashed and numb away the emotions overtaking him. Everything else could wait.
Distantly, he couldn't help wondering if Rapha- Crowley would be open to speaking him later well.
He doubted it.
TBC…