Crawly – or Crowley, as he liked to think of himself – drifted slowly back to consciousness. Every muscle ached, his throat and stomach burned, and he felt weak and dizzy. He recognised this feeling - this was how he always felt when he woke up after having his medicine.
His eyes were still closed, and he might have tried to go back to sleep, but he realised with a start that this was not his bed – it was too soft. He felt movement against his forehead and realised that someone was touching him.
He jolted fully awake, his eyes opening wide, and he found himself staring up at Aziraphale who was leaning over him with his hand pressed against his forehead.
Everything that had happened – meeting Aziraphale and being sold to him - came rushing back.
Crowley let out a yelp and scrambled away from the angel, who jumped back in surprise. Crowley's movements were painfully slow - weak and exhausted as he was. He backed away until he was huddled at the far corner of the bed, wedged against the walls in the corner of the room. He expected Aziraphale to come after him, or to shout at him to come back, but instead the angel just stood beside the bed, looking unsure of himself.
Crowley was at his most vulnerable after having his medicine. He wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight - not that he would have been able to fight Aziraphale off anyway. Without his powers, he was nothing. He was helpless.
Crowley knew what was in store for him. He had seen the way Aziraphale had looked at him. It didn't matter how much Aziraphale had tried to deny his intentions in front of the manager, it was obvious he had chosen him because he wanted to fuck him.
Both of Crowley's previous owners had hurt him, belittled him, treated him like he was worthless, but they had never sexually abused him. Now, he wouldn't even be spared that.
Crowley realised he was crying, and he felt pathetic for it. He thought back to Hastur clawing through the bars and frightening Aziraphale away. He'd wanted to be strong and menacing like him. He'd tried to frighten Aziraphale too, but his hissing had sounded piteous even to his own ears. He'd been unable to hide how frightened he was, and he couldn't hide it now either.
"It's alright," Aziraphale said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you – you're safe here, I promise."
Crowley wondered how long it was going to take for Aziraphale to break that promise. Probably about as long as it took for him to realise that he didn't want to have sex with him.
He thought back to Aziraphale's furious outburst towards the Manager, and he knew his anger would be turned on him eventually. Aziraphale had seemed angry about the living conditions of the demons, but Crowley suspected that, in truth, he had just been embarrassed and annoyed that the manager had known he wanted a demon for sex.
Aziraphale gave him a nervous smile. "I was just trying to heal you- Or dull the pain, I should say. I can't heal holy water damage, but I can stop it from hurting so much. Does it still hurt? You look like you're in pain. I can heal your pain by touching your forehead."
Crowley didn't respond. His mouth felt dry.
Aziraphale carefully perched on the edge of the bed. "I can heal the pain if you want me to? I don't want you to be in pain, Crawly."
Crowley hated that name. It reminded him that he was nothing more than a worthless demon squirming about at his owner's feet. But despite that, he would never share his real name with an angel. It belonged to him alone. He wouldn't let them ruin it. It was the only thing he had that was truly his own.
"I would like to help you, if you'll allow it," said Aziraphale as he gingerly reached out towards him.
Crowley flattened himself against the wall and wondered how far he would get if he tried to run away across the room, he felt so weak he would probably collapse on the floor.
"Don't touch me!" Crowley yelled, his voice cracking.
He didn't expect Aziraphale to listen, but Aziraphale pulled his hand back and shifted away from him on the bed.
"Alright," said Aziraphale. "Crawly, I would never do anything inappropriate. I adopted you because I wanted some company and some help with chores. That's all." Aziraphale hesitated. "I couldn't leave you in that terrible place. I hope you will be happy here. You are safe, I promise."
Crowley's head hurt, and he couldn't think straight.
"Try and get some rest - they said you would need lots of sleep. This is your room, and you have an en-suite bathroom over there."
Aziraphale gestured towards a door, but Crowley wouldn't take his eyes off of his captor for one second.
"Feel free to have a look around when you're ready. There's a ward on the door, but when you're feeling more comfortable I'll remove that and you can explore the house." Aziraphale gave him a cheerful smile. "I'll just go and get some food and water for you - and some paracetamol – and then I'll leave you in peace. Can I get you anything else? Is there anything you need?"
Aziraphale waited for a response so Crowley shook his head.
"Alright. I'll be back in a moment."
Aziraphale bustled out of the room and returned shortly after with a tray which he placed on the bedside table. There was a glass of water, a packet of biscuits and an apple. There were also two little tablets which reminded Crowley far too much of the medicine tablets, though they looked nothing like them.
"Is there anything else you need?" Aziraphale asked.
Crowley shook his head.
"You look exhausted. I'll leave you in peace so you can get some rest." Aziraphale headed back towards the door. "I'll be in the next room, so if you need anything just give me a shout. I'll check in on you later."
Aziraphale hesitated in the doorway. "This must all be a lot for you to take in, but please don't worry - everything is going to be okay."
Aziraphale left the room, carefully closing the door behind him. Crowley watched the door for a little while, and then slowly, weakly, shuffled across to look at the food.
He felt nauseous, far too anxious to have an appetite - and besides, his stomach still hurt from where he had been force fed holy water - but he gazed longingly at the food all the same.
The food in the cells had been boring and bland, though he was sure it was full of nutrients. After all, they wanted the demons to look healthy in order to sell them. His first owner, Michael, had given him ingredients and allowed him to cook - partly because she enjoyed eating and wanted him to cook for her - but his last owner had fed him what could only be described as gruel.
Crowley had the urge to hide the food somewhere for later – he didn't know when his next meal would come – but he was feeling so worn down that he could barely keep his eyes open.
The adrenaline and fear that had kept him awake this long wasn't enough to keep his eyes from closing, or to stop his body from going slack as he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
After talking to Crawly, Aziraphale sat in his bedroom and read the manual, but he felt so worried about Crawly that he struggled to concentrate on the words. He wondered if he was really cut out for looking after a demon.
Had he done the right thing in adopting Crawly? Would he be able to help him feel safe and happy? All he seemed to do was frighten the poor thing.
He listened intently for any noises from Crawly's room, though he wasn't sure if Crawly would actually dare to ask for help. He checked on him several times that night, getting close enough to the sleeping demon to make sure he was still breathing. Crawly didn't wake even once.
There was a sitting room upstairs, though it was mostly just another place for him to store his books. He went in there, leaving both Crawly's door and the sitting room's door open to make sure he would hear Crawly if he shouted for him, and then he picked up the telephone receiver.
A quick miracle, and his address book that had been sat on the desk in his bookshop downstairs appeared in his hand. He flicked through it until he found Gabriel's name. The only telephone number he had was the landline of Gabriel's house on Earth. He did not have the number for his Heaven-issued mobile telephone - which Gabriel always had on him - but Aziraphale wouldn't be able to ring that anyway, not from an ordinary human telephone. Maybe he ought to get one of those fancy mobiles from Heaven after all.
Aziraphale crossed his fingers and hoped that Gabriel was home. The phone rang and rang, until eventually someone picked up.
"Hello? Gabriel's residence," said a tired voice.
"Beelzebub? Hello! This is Aziraphale. Can I speak to Gabriel please?"
"He's out. Have you tried his mobile? Oh, wait, you don't have one of those… can I take a message?"
Aziraphale wanted to tell Gabriel about the terrible living conditions of the demons, but he didn't want to upset Beelzebub with such news.
"Could you ask him to call me back?" Aziraphale paused for a moment. Gabriel never got around to calling him back. "Or… do you know when he'll be back? And I'll try again then."
"Not sure. Maybe tomorrow morning? Try ringing about lunchtime, he should be back by then."
Aziraphale glanced at the clock on the wall and his eyes went wide. "I'm so sorry! It's 4am! I didn't realise! I didn't mean to wake you. I'm terribly sorry."
Beelzebub sounded amused. "No worries."
"I'll let you get back to bed. Goodnight."
"Night," Beelzebub said, and then hung up.
Aziraphale stared glumly at the manual on his lap. He rarely slept, he didn't have any need to, but he knew that demons needed it. That was another thing he would have to make sure he remembered when it came to Crawly.
Crowley awoke to the smell of bacon.
He felt stronger now, and his appetite was back in full force, the smell of bacon making his mouth water. He hadn't had bacon in over a century. His first owner, Michael, had let him eat any left-over bacon whenever he cooked for her, and sometimes she even let him put a couple of extra slices in the pan, just for him.
He had hated being Michael's servant, always having to do whatever she said, and having to rely on her for every little thing. She never listened to his opinion, and she looked down on him, saw him as being beneath her.
It wasn't until she got rid of him, and he got a new owner that he realised how good he'd had it with her. Her harsh words and the little slaps around the ear were nothing compared to the way his second owner treated him.
He tried not to think about that.
Who was cooking for Aziraphale? Was there another demon whose job it was to cook? No, he had overheard that Aziraphale was a first time buyer. He must be doing the cooking himself because he thought Crowley was too ill to do it.
Crowley's last owner didn't like eating, and, being an angel, didn't need to. Crowley suspected that Aziraphale was more like Michael when it came to food. After all, there was no chance that Aziraphale was going to all the effort of making a cooked breakfast just for a demon.
He wondered what he would have to do to be allowed a rasher of bacon.
Aziraphale's words from yesterday came back to him. He had said that he wouldn't do anything 'inappropriate' to him and he wouldn't hurt him. Crowley took this to mean that he wasn't planning on raping him any time soon, though Crowley suspected that the angel was going to expect to have sex with him anyway. All angels seemed to think that demons were sex addicts, so Aziraphale would probably be offended if Crowley didn't leap at the chance.
Crowley wondered how long Aziraphale's patience would last.
He tried not to think about that either.
Instead, he sat up, drank some of the water and then ate a few of the biscuits. They were delicious and even had chunks of chocolate in. It was rare for Crowley to be allowed chocolate, and he had a great fondness for it so this was a pleasant surprise. He looked around the room for a good place to hide the remaining biscuits and apple for later, and then he decided to explore.
Originally, Crowley had assumed this bedroom was Aziraphale's. It was big and well furnished with a comfortable bed and well-made furniture, and despite Aziraphale telling him it was his, he still couldn't quite get his head around the idea.
The adjoining bathroom was beautiful. It had a shower and a bath. He repeatedly turned the sink's taps on and off. Running water! Plumbing! A proper toilet! This place was luxurious. Would he really be allowed to use all of this whenever he wanted to?
Back in the bedroom, he took the remaining biscuits out of the wrapper, picked up the apple, and then then hid them carefully under the bed, hoping that Aziraphale would assume he'd eaten them. It was a relief to know that if he was punished by being denied food, he would have some supplies to fall back on. It was true that Aziraphale had seemed horrified at Hastur being denied food, but what angels said and what they did didn't always match up. Crowley didn't trust him.
There were footsteps coming up some nearby stairs.
Crowley panicked.
Aziraphale placed the breakfast tray on the floor outside of Crawly's bedroom, and then he knocked on the door.
"Hello, Crawly? It's me – Aziraphale."
Aziraphale waited for a reply but it never came.
"I have brought some breakfast for you. Can I come in please?"
Silence.
"Crawly?"
More silence.
"Are you alright?"
Aziraphale started to worry. He'd last checked on him about an hour ago, and Crawly had been fast asleep. Had something happened to him since then?
"I'm going to open the door."
Aziraphale pushed open the door, and then stepped inside.
He couldn't see Crawly anywhere. The bathroom door was open, but he wasn't in there either.
"Crawly? Where are you? It's alright – you're not in any trouble. I just want to make sure you're okay."
He tentatively opened the wardrobe to see if he was hiding in there, but he only saw empty coat-hangers. Then he looked under the desk, but Crawly wasn't there either. He knelt down and lifted the duvet to peer under the bed. Yellow, reflective eyes shone back at him from the dark.
"Ah, there you are. How are you feeling this morning? Do you feel any better?"
After a pause, Crawly replied in a quiet voice. "Yes."
Aziraphale smiled. "That's good. I've brought you some breakfast. I wasn't sure what food you would like, so there's a little bit of everything, but you only need to eat what you fancy. I'll just pop it on the desk for you."
Crawly didn't reply.
Aziraphale got back to his feet and fetched the tray. He hesitated, considering placing the tray on the floor by the bed instead, just in case Crawly didn't want to come out even after he'd left.
"You can stay under the bed if it makes you feel more comfortable, but I promise you, you're quite safe. Would you prefer me to put the tray on the floor so you can reach it? I'll be going downstairs in a moment, so you'll have the room to yourself."
"On the desk please," said Crawly in a small voice.
Aziraphale put the tray down on the desk. "Is there anything else you need?"
"No. Thank you."
"After I've eaten my breakfast, I'm going to make a hot drink. Would you like one too? There's tea or coffee?"
There was a long pause. "Coffee please."
"Lovely. I'll bring that to you later."
Aziraphale stood in the centre of the room, feeling awkward. It felt like he was imposing. "I want you to be happy here, Crawly. So please don't be frightened. I'll see you later. Enjoy your breakfast."
Aziraphale closed the door behind him, and then went downstairs.
The second Crowley heard Aziraphale descending the stairs, he climbed out from under the bed and rushed over to the desk.
He found buttered toast, hash browns, sausages, mushrooms, fried eggs and two rashers of bacon. There was a glass of orange juice and an apple too. He hid the apple under the bed where he'd put the rest of his stash.
He enjoyed every bite of the food, though he could only manage about a third of it. He wasn't used to eating such large amounts at a time, and he'd had some biscuits not long ago.
There was a paper napkin on the tray so he wrapped up the left overs in that and then hid the bundle under the bed.
He was sipping his orange juice when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He leapt up from the chair and immediately moved towards the bed, his heart racing. The footsteps were coming along the hallway.
There was a knock on the door. "Hello. I have your coffee. Can I come in?"
Crowley stood frozen. He didn't understand why Aziraphale kept asking permission to enter the room - this was his house after all. Crowley thought about earlier, when Aziraphale had been forced to put down the tray in order to open the door. Perhaps he expected the door to be opened for him.
He longed to hide under the bed, but he knew he would have to face his owner eventually, and it was best not to test the angel's patience.
"Er. Hello," said Crowley in a shaky voice. He crossed the room and then opened the door.
Aziraphale looked pleased to see him. "Hello, Crawly."
Aziraphale held out the mug so that Crowley could take it by the handle. Crowley wondered if holding the mug hurt Aziraphale's hand – it must be hot - but by some miracle it didn't seem to bother him. A perk of being an angel, he supposed.
Hands shaking, Crowley took the mug and then quickly put it down on the nearby desk, scared that he might spill the coffee and get into trouble. He took a few steps away from Aziraphale, watching him warily.
Aziraphale looked at the empty plate. "Oh, you must have been hungry." A troubled look crossed Aziraphale's face.
Crowley's chest tightened. Was Aziraphale angry with him? Had he eaten too much? Or was he supposed to have cleaned his plate in the bathroom sink? Crowley didn't know the rules yet.
"Are you still hungry?" Aziraphale asked. "Would you like some more?"
Crowley immediately nodded. He would never turn down extra food.
"I have some croissants. Would you like to try those?"
Crowley nodded again.
Aziraphale beamed. "They are one of my favourite foods. I'll go and get them."
Aziraphale picked up the tray from the desk, and then he fetched the tray from the bedside table - which still had the untouched paracetamol on it - before leaving the room. Crowley was glad he had hidden the leftover food for later.
When Aziraphale returned he had a basket full of croissants in one hand, and a small pile of clothes held tightly against his chest in the other. He placed the clothes on the bed, and then put the little basket on the desk.
Aziraphale took a croissant for himself. "Help yourself," he said, gesturing to the basket. "You can keep these up here for when you get peckish."
"Thank you," said Crowley. He picked one up and took a nibble of it. It was very sweet, and he was surprised to find chocolate in the middle.
Aziraphale gestured to the pile of clothes. "I miracled these up for you. I hope they're to your taste - and the right size. There are some pyjamas too. I wasn't sure what you would like but I can miracle up some other clothes if you would like something in particular. Usually I buy them, but I thought this would be easier for now. I can't leave you with just the one robe."
Crowley was only half listening as he stared at the clothes. His skin crawled as realisation hit him – this was just an elaborate excuse to make him undress in front of his owner. His fingers dug into the croissant, crumbs dropping to the floor.
Aziraphale didn't seem to notice his distress. He pulled a toiletry bag out of the pile of clothes. "There's a toothbrush in here. Toothpaste, shampoo, shower gel…" He stopped, clicked his fingers, and a hairdryer appeared. "Your hair is so long, I think this will be handy for you. I'll show you how the shower works, follow me."
Crowley placed his croissant on the bedside table, and then followed Aziraphale. He had to resist the urge to run away and hide, terrified that Aziraphale wanted to watch him shower, but Aziraphale only taught him what the various buttons did, and how to change the water temperature.
"Feel free to use the facilities whenever you like," Aziraphale said as they returned to the bedroom. "There are some books under the clothes. I thought you might like to look through them. Well. I'll leave you in peace. Feel free to have a shower, and see if the clothes are suitable for you. I'll come back at lunch time, alright? I thought we could have lunch together in the kitchen if that's okay with you?"
Crowley didn't feel like he could say no. Aziraphale was the one in charge after all. He nodded.
Aziraphale looked delighted. "Lovely! It will be nice for you to see a bit more of the house. I do hate to see you cooped up in here all alone."
But Crowley hated the thought of leaving this room. He knew where he could hide here, and he had food tucked away and a water supply. He didn't want to spend time with Aziraphale. He hated angels.
The silver lining of the brief times he'd spent in the Demon Rehoming House was that he was around other demons. Some of them scared him, Hastur especially, but some of the others tried their best to cheer him up.
Now he was alone again.
"Well, I'll come back in a couple of hours. About 12:30. Will you be alright? Do you need anything else?"
"I'm alright," Crowley said. He just wanted to be left alone.
Aziraphale nodded. "Jolly good. I'll see you again soon."
Aziraphale smiled as he sat down beside the telephone in the sitting room.
He was impressed by how much progress Crawly had made in such a short time. He had worried that Crawly would hide from him for weeks, so to have him answer the door had come as a welcome surprise and a relief. Perhaps this would all work out after all, and who knew, perhaps they would even be the best of friends by the end of the week.
Aziraphale dialled Gabriel's number again.
After a short while, Gabriel's voice answered the telephone. "Hello?"
"It's me! I'm so glad to have caught you!"
"Who?"
"Aziraphale!"
"Oh! Right. Why didn't you- oh. Aziraphale, you really need to get a divine mobile phone."
"I- Yes. But never mind that - this is really important! I've got some terrible news."
"Is this about your little outburst in the Demon Rehoming House?"
Aziraphale opened and closed his mouth a few times, his speech suddenly derailed. "What? No. Listen. Those demons are being treated terribly. We need to do something- and I didn't have an outburst! I was full of righteous fury! I gave that Manager a good telling off!"
"Yes, he told me. He feels terrible about it actually. He's worried he might have upset you-"
"He did upset me!"
"-by implying that you wanted a demon for sexual relief. He said he didn't mean to embarrass you."
Aziraphale's face burned. He made an indignant noise. "How dare he! I told him I just wanted a demon for chores! Normal chores! Around the house! Nothing untoward!"
"It's fine. I'm not judging you. I mean, I don't understand why an angel would choose to have a sex-drive, let alone want to have sex with a demon. But as long as it's not messing with your good work, and you're not having sex with any humans then it's none of my business what you and your demon get up to."
"I'm not doing anything like that with my demon!" Aziraphale spluttered. "Anyway, we are getting way off track! The demons are being treated terribly – the manager tried to force my demon to undress! And even worse, he wanted him to do it in front of everyone!"
"You have to understand that demons are very sexual creatures. I'm sure it was nothing the other demons hadn't seen before." Gabriel lowered his voice. "I've heard they have orgies through the bars. Can you believe it?!"
"But Crawly was scared! He didn't want to-"
"Listen. Demons are manipulative. He's trying to make you feel sorry for him. He'll walk all over you given half a chance. You need to be careful."
"You don't understand!" Aziraphale cried, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. "The cells are tiny, and the manager punished another demon by depriving him of food! They need food to survive!"
"Yeah, he mentioned that. A half-ration is still plenty of food for a demon, so don't worry. And they let the demons out of their cells to stretch their legs every day."
"He used a divine miracle to throw a demon against a wall!"
"Sometimes violence is the only thing a demon will understand."
Aziraphale rubbed his fingers between his eyes. "It's wrong! They're not being treated right, and we need to do something!"
"If it makes you feel any better, I'll have someone look into it."
Hope swelled in Aziraphale's chest, but deep down he knew that Gabriel had no intention of following through with this. "Please do. And let me know what they say."
"Yes, yes. Honestly, Aziraphale, I'm sure you're worrying over nothing. They're demons – they're not like us."
They were once, Aziraphale thought, but he didn't dare to say it out loud.