Now that I've shattered everyone's hearts into tiny pieces, it is time to start properly putting them back together again.
"Aziraphale?"
The angel didn't quite startle at Raphael's arrival, but he did look up and carefully uncurl from around the demon. Crowley groaned softly and stirred slightly as the wing left him. But he settled after a moment.
Still, it was a good sign.
"Did he wake up?" asked Raphael.
"Briefly." Aziraphale tucked away his wings as he looked back towards Crowley. "We talked a little."
"How did he seem? Alert? Any confusion or memory loss?"
"He was himself. Tired and in pain, but still Crowley. And he told me… Michael… She took his wings."
"I Saw," said Raphael. "A very cruel injury. Not something easily undone."
Zadkiel stepped around the curtain to join them. Aziraphale gave her a questioning look as she gave a small smile of greetings.
"I asked her to stay with Crowley briefly," he explained. "I wanted to discuss how to proceed forward with his treatment and how you can assist."
Aziraphale glanced back at Zadkiel again, but whatever trust that Raphael had managed to earn with them proved to be enough. Despite having so many reasons not to trust another angel to watch over his demon, Aziraphale nodded in agreement. He then quietly followed Raphael back to his office.
Taking a seat before his leg could start throbbing, Raphael said, "The next part of his recovery will likely be more stressful for Crowley since he regained consciousness earlier. If he's awake, he will feel vulnerable. Though from what I've observed, he will likely do his best to hide that. Having you involved should help make him feel safer. And considering how much trouble that you both get involved in, I thought it might be prudent to teach you more than the most basic healing. At a minimum, it should save me some trouble in the long run."
"It would be a weight off my mind to be able to do more for him in an emergency," he said. "How can I help?"
Raphael gently took the angel's hand while also brushing against his true form. It would not be the easiest lesson, one that involved working on multiple planes. But Aziraphale was clever and motivated. As long as he wasn't informed how difficult the lesson was likely to be, he might surprise the Archangel. Raphael simply needed to draw his attention to where he needed to focus.
"What you'll be doing is blocking the sensation of pain from reaching him, essentially numbing part of his physical body, the true form, or both. It helps reduce stress on the patient and minimizes discomfort involved with healing their true form. I would normally do it myself during the healing process, but his treatment will be quite delicate and require my entire focus. And while one of my other healers could do it instead, I thought it might be more reassuring to Crowley if I delegate the task to you."
"Is it difficult?" asked Aziraphale.
"If you're not a healer who knows instinctively how to manipulate things properly, it is merely a question of practice in order to master the technique and concentration. And maintaining a light touch." Closing his eyes, Raphael said, "Try to pay attention to what I'm doing to your true form. That way you can copy me. It may take a few tries, so don't get discouraged."
This time, Crowley entered the operating room under his own power. Aziraphale remained close to him, but his demon managed to stay upright. He hid his weakness and weariness as best that he could. Concealed behind dark sunglasses. But Aziraphale had known Crowley for far too long to miss the signs.
The mask was back up, but Aziraphale could see the cracks. No matter how calm, cool, and collected that the demon might act now, it didn't erase the absolute misery from before. When he confessed what Michael did.
Raphael and Zadkiel were waiting for them, the Archangel already sitting down. He gestured for the pair to take their own seats. Aziraphale pretended not to notice how relieved Crowley looked as he got a chance to rest.
"Most of your injuries are healing nicely," said Raphael. "This time, we shall be focusing on the damage that was done during the removal of your wings. It's more complicated than most of your injuries, which is why we merely stabilized them previously. The removal of bones, muscles, sinews, and large structures of the true form is not something that can be easily replaced and the gaping wounds on multiple planes takes skill to properly close. Now, I need you to understand the treatment plan for the next part. Aziraphale is going to help with any discomfort while I work on the more difficult healing and Zadkiel will be assisting as needed. You shouldn't feel any pain during the process, though it might be 'odd' and you might feel a sense of strain. I can't guarantee the final results will be perfect, but it should be an improvement over letting it heal at a slower natural rate. Do you have any questions or need more specific details on the process?"
Crowley shook his head slightly and said, "Nah. Let's just get it over with, Doc."
Raphael stared at the demon hard, carefully studying him. Probably trying to decide if he should attempt talking to Crowley further despite the reassurances that he felt ready to proceed. But delaying further would only stress him out more, so Aziraphale was grateful when Raphael gave a satisfied nod.
"All right then." He gestured towards the cloudlike surface. "If you could lie down with your back facing up, we can get started."
Crowley eyed it suspiciously. Aziraphale had to admit that it didn't exactly look like a stable piece of furniture to sprawl on. But he managed to climb on and carefully crawl into the middle of it. [56] He settled in place, lying on his stomach with his arms folded under his chin.
Aziraphale took a stool right in front of him, ensuring that he would be in Crowley's line of sight. And judging by the demon's faint smile, he appreciated the small comfort as he lowered all defenses while trying to hide his nerves. Aziraphale slid his right hand behind the demon's head and settled on the nape of his neck. Just like Raphael showed him, Aziraphale let a little power trickle into Crowley's true form. Light and careful. Gently blocking the sensations of most of his true form from reaching Crowley's awareness.
Then he took Crowley's hand with his left one. Squeezing it briefly as he held it.
"It feels weird," mumbled Crowley.
"As long as it isn't worse than that, it should be fine." Raphael moved to a spot where he could reach the demon's back from his own stool and miracle away the gauze covering the deep wounds. "If at any point it gets too uncomfortable or you need a break, let me know. It can be draining to endure this level of healing. I need you to let me know how you're handling it. We don't need to strain your healing true form and body by pushing too hard. That would only set your recovery back. If you need to stop, tell me immediately, Crowley. Understand?"
"Just— ngk. Get on with it," he said quietly.
His thumb brushing across the demon's knuckles, Aziraphale murmured, "Focus on me, my dearest. It'll be all right."
Aziraphale kept his eyes locked on Crowley. Trying to keep the demon's attention on him. But past Crowley's shoulders, he could still see Raphael as the healer reached towards the wounds. His hands slid to another plane, vanishing into his back as Raphael focused on Crowley's true form. The effect was a little unnerving.
But even a quick Look couldn't quite clarify what Raphael was doing. It was too complicated and delicate to tell for certain without studying proceedings closer. Aziraphale could feel the Archangel's power brushing against his own as he kept the sensations from reaching Crowley. And he could see the look of concentration on Raphael's face. [57]
He turned his focus back towards Crowley. There was some tension in his face now. His jaw set and brow furrowed, Crowley clung to the angel's hand. His breathing had grown a little shaky and he was still pale behind his sunglasses.
"Crowley?" said Aziraphale softly.
"'M fine," he mumbled. "Doc mentioned a strain."
Smiling encouragingly, Aziraphale said, "You're doing so well. Just hang in there."
Raphael seemed to be moving a little more. Like he was picking and tugging at loose threads from a tangled and knotted mass of yarn. Pulling them together and building something up. Twisting and almost weaving the ragged edges. Like a careful crochet project in Crowley's true form. At least, that's what the small movements reminded him of.
A few more minutes of effort and Aziraphale noticed a slight trembling in Crowley's hand. A sign that the strain was growing harder for him to handle. But he was clearly not going to speak up. A little too much demonic pride.
"Can we take a break?" asked Aziraphale. "This is more difficult for me than I expected it to be."
Shoulders slumping tiredly and releasing a worn-out breath, Raphael said, "This would be a good point to stop briefly. It's a complicated process. But it is going very well."
Crowley let his head fall forward, relaxing as the strained look faded. Aziraphale felt him squeeze his hand in what was meant as a subtle sign of gratitude. The demon was able to rest for a while until he finally gave a small nod.
"I think we're ready to resume," said Aziraphale.
"Very well then." Raphael nodded thoughtfully. "This should be the trickiest part. Let me know if it gets too difficult."
He reached back into Crowley's true form, making him hiss slightly at the uncomfortable sensation that Aziraphale couldn't completely block. Then Raphael started pulling at something buried deep down. Trying to draw it out even as he continued to pour vast amounts of healing energy in. Whatever he'd been trying to build up before, Raphael was attempting to bring forth. Maybe even trying to shape it a little more as he put more effort into it.
There was a great amount of power involved. And Raphael seemed to be physically straining as he put more effort into it. As if he was using muscles to pull. He even stood up to get some more leverage. But it was taking far more power on a metaphysical level than Aziraphale would have expected. He could feel it pressing up against his attempts to shield Crowley from the sensations, almost more than he could block out.
Raphael wasn't the only one noticing the amount of effort involved. The strained and shaking breathing had returned. Crowley was hissing through his teeth and squeezing Aziraphale's hand. But at least it still seemed to only be the strain of it all rather than any actual pain. Even if it worried the angel that it might be getting too difficult to handle. Sooner or later, something had to give.
And it did.
Raphael yanked hard with both hands and twin shapes burst into the physical plane. Large, skinny, covered in pale sensitive new skin and stubby pinfeathers. Zadkiel reached out to help support and lower them down to rest. Raphael collapsed back on his stool with a tired groan.
"Wha— Angel, what's…?" asked Crowley, frowning and trying to lift his head. "What did he…?"
Grinning tiredly, Raphael said, "And this is why I am the Archangel of Healing. Not quiet as impossible as it seemed. Sometimes I impress myself. Congratulations on being my first patient for this form of treatment." He turned his attention back towards Zadkiel. "I think it would be best to give them a moment. We should check on how the rest of the healing ward looks and ensure that his bed is suitable for later. I could use a brief break before some of the more straightforward healing."
Both Raphael and Zadkiel slipped out of the operating room. Giving them some privacy with the flimsy excuse and leaving Aziraphale to carefully withdraw his power from Crowley, letting his demon feel everything again. Including the new additions. Even behind the sunglasses, it was clear when his eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat as Crowley tried to sit up, the unexpected weight throwing him off balance in the attempt.
"Easy there," murmured Aziraphale, reaching out to catch him as Crowley sat up the rest of the way. "I have you, my dearest."
Crowley twisted to look, reaching out with trembling fingers. Touching the hard little pinfeathers and the delicate new skin. Trying to convince himself that they were real. The shaking and unsteady breath sounded both like the start of strangled sobs and hysterical laughter.
"I… I thought… They were gone," said Crowley, still touching his restored wings. "I hated it, but… Broke before. Got up and put the pieces together before. I survived. Could do it again. I hated it, but… I accepted it. They were gone, it hurt, but… I barely used them. Probably wouldn't miss… It would have been fine. It… My wings."
He shook his head before falling the rest of the way into Aziraphale's waiting embrace. The angel stroked his hair as Crowley cried in relief. His wings twitched weakly, trying to figure out how to work. They would probably take time to settle back in after the loss. At least that's what Aziraphale assumed. Regaining lost chunks of true form was not something that either of them had experience with. [58]
Eventually, Crowley fully relaxed in his arms. As if he intended to drift off to sleep against him while Aziraphale's fingers slid through his hair. The angel let one hand drift until it brushed against the new and sensitive wing. Crowley twitched as if he was ticklish.
"Sorry," said Aziraphale.
Shaking his head, Crowley mumbled, "They look terrible."
"They do not."
"Like a scrawny raven chick. All ugly pinfeathers and gangly."
"Oh, hush. You don't look like that." [59]
"You're a rubbish liar, angel." Crowley burrowed his face in Aziraphale's chest, sighing tiredly. "This feels like a dream. I don't want to wake up."
The warm wave of love curled around him, making the angel smile. He could certainly empathize with the feeling that it seemed like a dream. A sweet dream in comparison to everything else that had happened recently. Almost too perfect to believe.
Letting his hand gently brush against the new wings again, Aziraphale said, "If you wake up, your wings will still be here. As will I, Crowley. I am here and I love you."
The demon shivered slightly. But it was a pleased and overwhelmed shiver rather than anything born of distress. Crowley seemed content to stay in his arms. At least until Raphael eventually returned to finish the other healing.
"—and no miracles for two weeks and only small ones after that," ordered Raphael, gentle hands pressing carefully at healing wounds that still lingered. "Try to rest as much as possible. That will help with your recovery more than anything. Leave your wings out for at least two more weeks as well. It should assist with the feathers coming in properly along with regular grooming. I will check on your progress in a few days. Do you have any questions so far?"
Crowley shook his head as the Archangel's hands moved towards the closest wing. Pressing cautiously at the muscles and bones to examine it, ensuring that everything seemed intact and there was no tenderness or pain. He'd been healing well during his time in the healing ward, but Raphael would not be discharging him until he looked Crowley over at least one last time.
Raphael gently moved one and then the other wing through a few basic movements. He doubted the demon would be able to fly immediately, but at least the wings seemed in decent shape. The feathers would need to lose the hard coating of the pinfeathers first and his muscles would need to rebuild their endurance on the physical plane. But Raphael would call it a success considering the state they were in before.
Demon or angel, losing one's wings should have been permanent. Raphael had never had to heal that particular loss before. Restoring them was a particularly miraculous miracle. The fact that the wings were in as good condition as they were still impressed him.
"Work out the stiffness like this if it bothers you, but don't overdo it," said Raphael. Glancing towards Aziraphale, he added, "I'm certain you will keep an eye on him."
"Of course," he said. "And I am certain that after several thousand years, I am capable of keeping Crowley out of trouble."
Raphael carefully kept his mouth shut. His experience thus far did not support that statement at all. Not even slightly. They were both magnets for trouble.
"And if I can't do it alone, I am certain that Warlock would be happy to help take care of him," continued Aziraphale. "He turned out to be surprisingly skilled at wing grooming once he learned the basics. That should help while Crowley is transitioning from pinfeathers to his normal plumage."
"Yeah, because they're going to itch like crazy until that's done," muttered Crowley, his wings twitching slightly.
Raphael rubbed one of the stubby pinfeathers between his fingers, letting the hard coating crumble apart to reveal the soft internal. It would take time to free all of them once they were ready. Most angels didn't have to replace all of them at once. The process would be annoying, but not painful.
He released the demon's wings and let them settle against his back. Crowley turned back around to face the Archangel. He did look much better than when they arrived at the healing ward. [60] While not completely healed, Crowley was in good enough shape to go home.
"You know how to contact me if anything happens," said Raphael. "And if you have any symptoms or concerns and you decide not to contact me, I will drag you back up here for the rest of your recovery."
Smirking slightly, Crowley said, "This is starting to remind me of when Aziraphale was your patient."
"At least you haven't torn open your wounds like he did. And no, that was not a recommendation to do so."
There would be scars. On his physical body and true form. Raphael could only do so much and the wounds had been serious. Just as Aziraphale still bore marks from his own near brush with death. There would be lines on his true form from Michael's blades, especially near where his wings attached. Enough that that they would bleed over into his corporation. Thick patches of scar tissue on his back where she carved out his wings and the line on his chest where her sword tore through the demon. But there were fewer scars than there would have been without Raphael's intervention and those that had formed were smaller.
Emotional and mental scars would heal better in the familiar surroundings of home under the watchful eye of Crowley's favorite angel.
"If the two of you could manage to stay out of my healing ward for at least a decade," said Raphael, "I would appreciate it."
"Then tell Heaven and Hell to stop stabbing us," said Crowley.
Rolling his eyes, he said, "All right. Time to go. I'm tired of putting up with the headaches you cause. Back to Earth with the both of you."
In a cottage in Tadfield, everything was finally back to the way that it should be. A Bentley was parked out of sight, fully repaired from before. Quiet and gentle music drifted through the air. Upstairs, a teenage boy slept while his hamster plotted violence. His water guns and his stolen demonic blade were carefully hidden away once more. In another bedroom, a demon lay sprawled on his stomach with his wings spread across the bed. An angel held his hand lightly as the demon slept, reading as he kept watch over him. And the cozy home was filled with love.
Everything was back to the way it should be.
[56] It looked like a long-legged dog trying to move on a waterbed.
[57] Zadkiel's assistance was mostly stabilizing, so her efforts weren't as immediately obvious.
[58] No one did. It was Raphael's first successful restoration of lost wings, for angel or demon. Even during the War, full amputation was a rare and difficult to achieve injury. He was half-considering writing a paper on the procedure.
[59] He absolutely did.
[60] Most people did tend to look better without a sword impaled in their chest.
And so we get a happy ending after I mangled the poor demon quite thoroughly. There are definitely advantages to having the Archangel of Healing as an ally. Even if he does want to strangle them regularly for their lack of self-preservation.
Thanks for all the lovely comments. I hope everyone enjoyed this story.