Stabbing pain was the first thing that he was aware of. Stabbing pain in his head, his chest, his stomach and his side. He didn't remember being run over. His eyes fluttered open and tried to focus on the room. He had no idea where he was, but it definitely wasn't his flat or the bookshop.

He sat up sharply and regretted it, all the pain that he felt increased, causing him to cry out. He needed to get out, the room was too small. He felt a familiar panic bubble inside and miracled himself out onto the street.

"It's Crowley right?" a vaguely familiar voice said behind him. "Might want to put a shirt on before Mr Tyler sees you."

He whirled round, stumbling to keep his balance and came face to face with Adam.

"You didn't die then," the boy stated, "they thought you would. Your friend must be happy."

Crowley just stared at him.

"Your eyes are very strange aren't they? Didn't really notice last time."

"Last time," the demon rasped.

"Yes. When you helped save us from my other dad."

"You… how do..?"

"Don't know. I didn't really remember much at first but it came back overnight. Suppose some of us are meant to remember it," the boy shrugged as Dog sniffed Crowley's feet.

Crowley blinked, confused.

"You look like you're in pain. You should probably sit down and put some clothes on. Mr Tyler really won't like it if he sees you," Adam reminded him before strolling towards the wood. "I'm glad you didn't die."

The demon stumbled out of the road and towards the adjacent field, miracling himself a shirt before collapsing onto the grass. Holding his head in his hands, he tried to breathe through the pain and remember anything about being back in Tadfield.

"Demon Crowley," a familiar voice droned.

With a weary sigh he looked up. "Lord Beelzebub, Dagon" he greeted with a pained, unnatural grin.

"You look like shit," Dagon said.

"Yeah. Thanks. What can I do for you?"

"Yet again I find myszzelf a demon short at your hand," Beelzebub announced.

Crowley frowned, wishing he had his glasses. The light of day was not his friend at the best of times and this wasn't the best of times.

"Do you deny it?" Dagon challenged.

Painfully Crowley got to his feet. "In all honesty, I haven't got a fucking clue. Who's been discorperated?"

"Not dizzzcorperated. Murdered. Dead," Beelzebub corrected.

"I'm still none the wiser," Crowley sighed.

"The demon Hazzztur."

"Hastur?"

"He wazzz obzzzerving you. He hazz been returned in pieces."

"Oh dear, so sad."

"Show some respect!" Dagon yelled.

"Piss off," Crowley replied wearily.

"Crowley?" Voices were calling him, one he recognised immediately and fear hit him in the chest. Eyes widening, he watched to see Beelzebub's reaction as Aziraphale's voice got closer.

The Angel passed the gateway of the field and doubled back.

"Oh dear," he breathed as he saw Crowley had visitors.

"Can we help you?" he asked causing Crowley to groan.

"This doezzn't concern you Principality," Beelzebub told him.

"Ah, well I beg to differ. If this is about that fiend Hastur then I can assure you it very much involves me." He looked over at his demon and saw the lost look on his face. "And it seems that Crowley cannot enlighten you the way I can." Stepping through the gate he signalled for Newt and Anathema to stay put, whilst he put himself between Crowley and his former bosses.

"What are you doing, Angel?"

"Filling in the blanks. I'm afraid Hastur's untimely end was probably my fault."

"Your fault?" Crowley questioned.

"Yes. You see we had a slight accident that made poor Crowley here to behave in the most uncharacteristic way. Unfortunately for your friend he turned up at the most inopportune moment and threatened us. Crowley was not responsible for his actions."

Dagon snapped their fingers and Crowley gave a cry as he was bound by chains and forced to his knees.

"Is that necessary?" Aziraphale asked. "He's no danger now."

"He izzz a traitor who has killed his own kind twice. He must be extinguished," Beelzebub stated.

"Oh really? In that case," the angel straightened his shoulders and flicked his wrist, flaming sword appearing in his hand "you'll have to go through me."

Crowley noticed the steel in his voice and the strength in his stance. His angel meant business and it was likely to get him killed.

"Aziraphale. Leave it," he groaned, waves of pain crashing over him.

At the resigned tone the angel looked round at him. "Don't you dare give up now you old snake in the grass," he growled. "We've come too far and been through too much to give up now." Turning back he regarded the other demons. "If you'd left him alone none of this would have happened. Didn't you learn last time? None of this works." He stepped forward pointing the blazing blade at them. "And this time he has me."

"Oh and what a champion you are!"

Aziraphale's confidence shook a little at hearing Gabriel's voice. He almost didn't dare turn round to look.

There he stood to his left, Michael on his right.

"That sword should have been returned," Michael stated.

"The almighty gave it to me in the first place and I suspected I'd need some insurance against retaliation," Aziraphale replied, puffing up his chest as he circled behind Crowley. Touching the sword to the chains he broke the demon free and gave a healing touch from his free hand.

Breathing a sigh of relief Crowley straightened and stood beside the angel. "You sure about this?" he muttered.

"What are you going to do with that?" Gabriel scoffed. "You're not a fighter. I mean just look at you."

He and Michael laughed.

"If we might continue!" Beelzebub interrupted.

"Oh don't get your flies in a bunch," Gabriel said rolling his eyes. "Aziraphale. Stop making a fool of yourself. You've had your fun with your little… project. Congratulations; you've made a demon completely useless. Now hand over the sword and report upstairs."

"Upstairs? But.. but.."

"But but," Gabriel mocked. "In their wisdom upstairs have decided an angel like you is too dangerous to be left on the ground," he told him through gritted teeth.

"Oh really. And just who upstairs decided that?" Crowley questioned, narrowing his yellow eyes at the Archangel.

"Uh. Well. Um that's not...I mean."

"You're lying!" Aziraphale gasped.

Michael looked nervously around the field. "Perhaps we should leave this until there aren't so many..."

Gabriel shushed them, splaying his wings as a show of strength.

"Ooo scary," Crowley mocked and he and Aziraphale showed theirs.

"You… you've still got wings!" Gabriel looked at Michael in discomfort.

Crowley looked from the angels to the demons, more than a little confused by their reaction.

"Enough!" Dagon yelled. "Demon Crowley will return with us and answer for his crimes!"

"But it was us who summoned him!" Aziraphale argued. "Therefore he can't leave until we're finished with him."

"You what?!" Crowley choked.

"You summoned a demon?" Michael gasped.

"We had to, you weren't waking up and were getting worse!" Aziraphale whined.

"We're going to talk about this later," Crowley hissed before addressing the crowd. "Look I'm not going anywhere, he isn't going anywhere so why don't you all just shove off and tell whoever cares that we've been dealt with and leave us alone, hm? Then maybe I won't kill any more of you." He smiled tightly.

"Crowley dear boy, WE, maybe WE won't kill any more of them."

Crowley looked at him in shock as the angel raised his sword.

"You two, inside now if you please," the angel called to the humans at the gate. At his request they happily ran for cover, Anathema checking the wards as Newt readied to bolt the door.

Dagon pulled out a dagger and grinned, while Gabriel gestured to Michael.

"What am I supposed to do?! I'm admin!" Michael panicked.

"You're supposed to look after me. I'm not going to get my hands dirty," Gabriel laughed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Dagon roared and ran towards Aziraphale just as Crowley saw Michael acquire a golden spear.

"Oh for someone's sake. What the Heaven is that?!"

As Aziraphale met Dagon, Crowley took on Michael, easily managing to avoid the weapon. He took advantage of Michael's inexperience and showed them his demon face. They faltered in their attack giving him the chance to snatch the spear and turn it on its owner. It sizzled in his hand but he was getting used to pain, and the fear in the angel's eyes was enough of an anaesthetic.

Michael cried out as they scrambled backwards across the grass. Crowley was advancing on them, pointing the spear at their throat, with his wings spread wide, eyes blazing and teeth gnashing. Suddenly Crowley didn't seem like such a rubbish demon after all. Suddenly he was a major threat and Gabriel decided he'd have to find out who he used to be. They'd need to be careful. He looked at the angel prone on the floor begging for mercy from this being.

Crowley flashed his inhuman gaze between Michael and the Archangel. "Fuck off and never come back," he hissed, burning up the spear in his hand. "Otherwise next time it'll be you."

Michael gulped and nodded as they and Gabriel vanished.

The demon turned his attention to his friend.

Aziraphale could fight, he looked every inch the avenging angel! That was a turn up for the books, and Beelzebub looked a little nervous until Aziraphale's foot found a rabbit hole and he fell backwards giving Dagon an opening.

Without thinking Crowley shot forward shoving the other demon away, landing on top of them with his claws raised. A sense of deja vu hit him but he managed to keep focus. Dagon beneath him was sneering, daring him to strike.

"Crowley!" Beelzebub called.

He looked up and pinned them with his feral gaze as he brought his hand down, discoperating his prey.

"You didn't have to do that."

Crowley stood and stalked towards his former boss. "If I let you all go. You'll just keep coming. You'll never leave us alone," he demon hissed. "Be grateful he's just discoperated and that I'm letting you leave."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

"You could have been the greatest ruler of Hell," Beelzebub muttered. "Lord Crowley, Hell'zzz Angel. Lord Satan had such high hopes for you. Instead you slithered away and hid like the snake you are."

"Go to Heaven," Crowley sneered. He raised his hand and blew the ash from the Heavenly spear in their face.

Screaming Beelzebub disappeared back into the ground, leaving a circle of dead grass behind.

Aziraphale watched as Crowley slouched and gave a cry, his strength failing him as his wings disappeared. Throwing the sword aside, the angel caught him before he hit the ground. "I've got you dear boy. Come on, let's get you inside."

XxXxX

Watching from the window Anathema saw the pair approach and lifted the wards briefly to allow Crowley through without harm.

Aziraphale guided him to the sofa and helped him settle.

"Stop fussing," Crowley groaned as his body cried out.

The angel huffed. "You are injured and in pain," he pointed out.

"I'm always in pain!" the demon snapped before he sighed. He'd never meant to say that out loud, not ever.

The room fell silent and he could feel everyone's eyes on him. Twitching his fingers he made a pair of his trademark sunglasses appear and slipped then onto his face before resting his head against the back of the sofa.

"Crowley, wha…"

"Leave it alone, Angel."

"But you…"

"I said leave it Aziraphale."

"Well at least let me help clean you up and make you more comfortable. Perhaps you could lose the claws and fangs though dear boy, I think it's unnerving the humans."

A ripple passed over Crowley's body as he returned to normal.

Anathema passed Aziraphale a first aid kit and dragged Newt into the kitchen.

"You summoned me?"

"Well, Miss Device did technically. We thought it would help."

"Help? How could summoning a demon possibly help?!"

"You were fading away Crowley! We thought summoning you would counteract the blessing, give you the strength to fight back."

"And what happened?" Crowley's voice was low and dangerous, knowing he wasn't going to like what he heard.

"Well um. Well it worked. You did come back."

"But?"

"But what?"

"I think you've left out quite a big 'but' Aziraphale."

The angel knew he wasn't going to get away with not telling him. Crowley had used his name, he didn't do that unless he was serious.

"Ah, yes. Well the thing is you weren't quite yourself. You were quite… angry."

"I think the term you're looking for is feral."

Aziraphale looked up at him.

"Do you have any idea how bloody stupid that was? How dangerous?"

"We were going to lose you!"

"Then maybe I should have been lost!"

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare say that!"

"I could have killed them," he pointed to where the witch and her boyfriend were hiding in the kitchen. "I could have killed you!"

"You wouldn't. You saved me from Hastur."

"You had no way of knowing how that would have played out. And I didn't save you, I reacted to a threat."

"But he was threatening me, not you."

Crowley frowned behind his glasses.

"You saved me whether you realised it or not."

"You were lucky I didn't hurt you," the demon muttered.

"Yes, well." Aziraphale turned his attention to Crowley's chest after he miracled away the shirt.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"Aziraphale, where's your tie?"

"Hmm? Oh I took it off."

"You never take off your.." Crowley noticed a corner of white on the angel's neck, reaching he pulled the collar of his shirt and coat away. Looking at the angel's face he saw him flush. "What happened?"

"It's nothing dear boy, just a trifling thing. An accident," he assured him but didn't meet his gaze.

Crowley miracled the gauze away. "Fuck," he breathed followed by a much louder "Fuck! Did I? I did didn't I? That was me!"

"Calm yourself, it will do you no good getting yourself worked up. It's nothing to worry about."

"Calm?! Nothing to worry about? I bit you! Jesus Christ!" The horror in the demon's voice made Aziraphale's heart clench.

"My dear Crowley, you really mustn't worry yourself."

"Bless it all to buggery, Angel! How can you be so calm?"

"It will heal. What concerns me is that your wounds aren't healing at all well or quickly."

Crowley stared at him. "You really have lost your blessed mind," he said incredulously.

"I assure you my mind is perfectly fine. You on the other hand are not." He tried another round of healing.

"It won't work, Angel. Angels aren't meant to heal demons. My body will fight back against anything you do. Your fixes are only temporary."

"Well what do we do?"

"Nothing. I heal myself little by little and wait." He was staring at the bite mark.

"Will you stop it?! I'm perfectly fine."

"Well I'm not!" Crowley tried to stand but cried out instead collapsing back into the sofa.

"What are you trying to do?"

"Leave! I want to leave."

"Well you can't run away this time I'm afraid my dear,"Aziraphale said matter of factly.

Crowley whimpered. "What are these from anyway?

"Some are from Hastur, some are from when you fell against my sword and some are the hellfire and brimstone."

The demon blinked behind his glasses. "I know I'm going to regret asking this but; where did you get the hellfire?"

"From Beelzebub."

"How?"

"I may have gone to get it disguised as you."

"You what?!"

"I didn't have a choice!"

"Yes you did, you should have left me."

"After everything we've been through? I'm not about to let you leave me now."

"You could have been killed!"

"I looked like you, they wouldn't dare."

"I think we've established that isn't true," Crowley pointed to his current state.

"You'd have done the same if it were the other way round."

"Shut up."

Aziraphale tried to hide the smile that threatened at Crowley's non-admission. He leant forward and went back to inspecting the demon's wounds.

"Told you, you can't help, Angel. My body will reject anything you try. It's just the way it is."

"But it doesn't make sense. You were an angel once, born of light and love."

"Then I fell and was reborn of darkness and pain. This is nothing compared to that. Don't worry your little blond curls about it. I'm not worth the fuss."

"Stop saying that!" Aziraphale snapped, causing everyone to take a sharp inhale of breath. "Stop saying you don't matter! You matter to me!"

"Well I shouldn't."

"Oh and I suppose I don't matter to you?" he accused knowing full well it wasn't true.

"No. I mean that's.…"

"Because if that's the case why save my life so many times?"

"That's not what I meant." Crowley ground out as he shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. "I'm a demon. In the grand scheme of things I'm the lowest of the low."

"But you're not like the other demons. Why is that do you suppose?"

Anathema and Newt looked at each other. Oh, he was going there now?!

XxXxX