Worried I gazed to the coughing demon. He stumbled into my bookshop mere hours ago and colapsed imediatly there after. Only three weeks went by after the failed armageddon, wich we managed to stop, and since then the health of the fallen angel decreased rapitly. He was weakend since he delivered the antichrist, but now it only grew worse and worse. Swallowing, I leafed through the book and tried to find out if there was any way to help the demon. It pained me to even think about the posebility of him not being here anymore. I swiftly rubbed over my eyes, as my vision blurred, before I put the book aside and picked up my tea, which was next to me and had been at a drinkable temperature for hours. The flavor of the brewed chamomile calmed my soul, the herbal taste caressing and wraping around my tounge. Crowley didn't wake up and cought again in his sleep, hunching up more than possible for a mere human, before slackening again. Black blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth and made a trail to his ears and fast-growing hair. I sighted, as this was the last book I was able consult, befor I stood up and took the book back to its brethern. I could feel the mixed feelings of the books and the bookshop, before the carpet, lying over the summoning circle, quietly rustled. It was my last chance and maybe my prayer would be heared.
„I'm fine, angel. Why would you think it would be different?, Crowley fended of. Her clothes were hiding her corporation, but I could see that she was paler than usual. Her dark glasses, with dark tinted lenses, were also hiding more than her golden serpent eyes, wich were robbing my breath everytime the demoness took the glasses of. Most times after a few bottle of good wine freely split between us two. I pointed out her paleness and could practically hear her eyes rolling.
„That's because of our little terror there", she made a gesture with her hand, indicating Warlock, the antichrist we raised. „You know of my habbit to sleep. And he is preventing me from that. Right little terror."
„If that is all", I mumbled not convinced, but letting it slide. After all, I knew how it was with the habbits of corporations. I myself didn't require food, but I got hungry nontheless.
If I only had persisted that he would talk to me, I thought, after I surfaced from my memory. There was no doubt left in my mind that it was a punishment from Heaven. Otherwise the demon would have healed himself long ago. And there was also no doubt left in my mind that it had something to do with the delivery of the Antichrist. I could only hope my idea would work. I lit up the candles, black and white, alternately, so it would conect my directly with Her/Him, before I stepped to the edge of the shimering whit circle, filled in with symbols in a language, nether one of them ever used by humans. It was my last chance, my last hope I had, but I had to try it.
"Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love!", Crowley hissed, pressing me against the wall. My eyes widend, my corporation gasping slightly, without my input. The noise bringing the demon to his senses then he shock his head, looking apogetically to me, befor walking to the tavern we were headed for, as he was living there at the moment. At least when I visited. We never spoke about it, as we never spoke about the miracle he spared for Hamlet. We couldn't and we wouldn't walk down that path. It would only bring our own destruction. After all, I didn't trust his words. I was sceptical on his sincerity.
I shouldn't have dopted then. The time of dear old Shakespear was the only time Crowley felt save enough to freely give words to his feelings and I always kept cruely rejecting him. I shouldn't have done that, but it was the only way to protect us both. I knew I broke his heart in the prozess, squaching his love for me, the beautiful little blossoming flower inside his soul. If there is any hope left for us? I looked again to the demon on the couch, looked at the contact circle and took a deep breath. ‚Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?', I thought taking another deep breath. The words echoed with crowleys voice, rasping as if he had picked up the dreedful habit of the humans and wouldn't have done sone anything else in his 6000 yeares on earth, inside my head.
„Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what have I done? I've fallen in love with a man on the run. Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I'm begging you please. Don't take that sinner from me! Oh don't take that sinner from me!", I sang quietly, hoping my voice would carry. I noticed the curiosity of the angels, the ones able to listen into, vibrating in the air. I ignored them. Crowley whimpered behind me, hunshing on himself, coughing and gasping. It broke my heart, as I didn't noe if it was because of the angelessence in the air or because of a nightmare. I wanted to help him, but this was more important.
„Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what do I do? I've fallen for someone who's nothing like you. He's raised on the edge of the devil's backbone. Oh I just wanna take him home. Oh I just wanna take him home...", I went on, feeling my wings unfolding into this plain of existence and spreading, befor setteling. I could hear the gasps and whimpers of the demon as his feathers spread, also brought into this plain of existence. I only saw them twice in the long acquaintance I had with the demon. At the very Beginning and on the day of armageddon. Both times they were perfectly and expertly groomed. Crowley had to handle every single feather with the utmost care. I remembered his care, befor we had to turn around on every corner, a time shortly after the humans had to leave Eden.
I shook out my soggy wings, feeling the clumps developing in the feathers already. The black wings befor me didn't have another destiny, even if they got less of the new wetness coming down from the sky. I followed the redhead demon, when he dared to go out, after he got hit from a few drops from which I couldn't protect him. He had lought freely, like a weight lifted from his shoulders, leaping from the wall, the black wings spread, without a care for the still dripping water. At the foot of the wall he had looked up at me, waiting, and I followed him rather clumsily. I learned that soggy wings werent made for flight. But it didn't seem to bother the waterfowl nor the birds living in such wet habitats. So I followed the demon into the cave and shook as much water from my soaked feathers as I could.
„Angel? I could help with your feathers if you would like", he offered a soft blush dusting his cheeks. I looked to him, suprised and wary, before I checked my miserable wing condition and gave up. I let my wings hanging and turned my back to him. „You shuld sit down. This will take a while", he offered, gesturing to a nest made out of moss and heather, not there a moment ago. Whether it had anything to do with the creation of plants before turning against our Creator. And surely those fluttering feelings in my stomach were a warning that I ignored. I heared him sitting down on the cold stonefloor behind me and frowned. I could feel his hand over my wing, but he wasn't touching yet.
„May I...?", he asked breathles. I noded hesitantly, then I shuddered. The soft pressure of his hand reminded me of my brethern and how we groomed ech other. His fingers untangled the individual strands and fibers of the individual feathers, made sure that each feather was correctly positioned, and with a little magic he dried them. In between he ran his hands between the wings, under the robe I was wearing, before continuing.
„Why do you do that?", I asked of him. He seemed to srface from deep thoughts or something akin to a deep trance, as I could feel the rhytm of his working hands, something rather meditative I noticed, falter. Then it continued.
„What do you mean angel?", he asked. I frowned and shivered, as I realized the spreading warmth.
„You keep rubbing your hands over my spine between my wings. Why?" The hands went still, befor they shock, helplessly inferior to the demon's laughter. It was suprised and died down rather quickly, then the hands resumed their work on my wings.
„Because there is a gland, producing an oil. This oil is protecting your feathers and spread over your whole wing it repelles water for a while. I wonder how you didn't know about this, Angel..."
„How should I now that?", I asked. I had a feeling, I said something wrong, as the hands were leaving my plumage. I could feel the last moisture leave as a few last drops from my outer primerie, the I turned around. There the demon kneelt, Crawly, if I remembert correctly, his long fiery red curls in his hands and wringing them out, befor he let them, still damp, go. He kept his distance and looked out before making a ponderous sound.
„The humans wont find much fod or water out there."
„I can't help them, I don't know anything about such things", I confessed frustrated. The demon looked at me, then he nodded smiling.
„Luckily for the humans, I find them rather faszinating. It surely would spread trouble fot the things from the garden to spread." He winked, then he stepped into the rain, shocking his wings, obviously better deeling with the mousture, then taking off. Somehow I had the feeling that he was leaving his nest his home and would not finding anything new.
„Oh Lord, Oh Lord, he's somewhere between a hangman's knot, and three mouths to feed. There wasn't a wrong or a right he could choose. He did what he had to do. Oh he did what he had to do...", I sang softly and remembered the many times he treated the slim line between good and evil, balancing on the line, unwilling to take a side, but scared it could destroy him. It took me some time to look through his display and much longer to understand the flatter in my stomage. The pages of the books were wispering to one another, as the might accumulated. I only hoped, they would be save, but I hoped more for a success on this. I didn't want to lose the demon, no matter what this kind of punishment this was, I wanted to shoulder it for him. He shouldn't be in more pain, as he hold anyway.
„Give me the burden, give me the blame. I'll shoulder the load, and I'll swallow the shame. Give me the burden, give me the blame! How many, how many Hail Marys is it gonna take?" My voice was getting stronger, a desire, I couldn't pinpoint, before I colapsed, rubbing at teary eyes. I couldn't lose Crowley, that I learned with armagedon. I couldn't go on for eternity without the demon. It wasn't possible, it would destroy me.
„Don't care if he's guilty, don't care if he's not." My voice broke, but I went on. This was to important not to say, to sing, everything. I needed Her/His help. And I prayed for it. A gasp sounded behind me, a panting and shortening of breaths. The angels were still there, watching what happend to the traitors, as I went to the side of the demon. I craddeld the redhead with armes and wings, letting my tears flow, unhindered from what it did to my pride and dignity. „He's good and he's bad and he's all that I've got. Oh Lord, oh Lord, I'm begging you please, don't take that sinner from me. Oh don't take that sinner from me..."
The breathes stopped after my pleading, which I repeated and repeated, until, after a small eternity, he took breathes again, he was breathing. I could feel the shivers of my corporation in the embrace, sobbing as I reflexively squeezed him tighter. Crowley whimperd somewhat, his bones protesting and I let him go as if I burned myself. The angelic magic vanished and with it the white glow behind me, but I alsmost didn't notice that. It was mor importent what laied befor me, that my demons was well, I still looked at him with teary eyes, before I threw all the caution, all the fear, that I held for so long over board and I kissed him. I could hear the suprised protest of him, even as his corporation slumped against me, easing completly into me.
„What happend?", he asked, after I broke the kiss. He spared a demonic miracle to vanish the blood, which spret from his mouth corner to his ear. I loughed overjoyed and fell into his arms, my wings tightly cloused aroung him, befor I told him. He listend, somewhat speachless, befor he leant into me, winding his own arms around my back. Two more pairs of wings rose behind him, one pair around the hip area and one covering the other two, enclousuring me completly. This were the wings of an Archangel, only black.
„Crowley", I wispered in awe and earned a kiss on my forhead for that.
„I said, I was fine, believe the former angel of Healing if he is assessing his own health.", he teased, cuddling me tightly. „But thanks. You managed to get Her to help me working through my problems." The rest of the night was spent with explenations on what happend. It seemed he had the stress response of a hoggnose snake, to much drama in playing dead. But he could supress it, befor it went out of control. Shortly after his stress level would trigger a shedding and a molting. This time the almighty had done something to prevent that.