Crowley was exhausted, two days straight of making up to Beelzebub would suck the life out of anyone. All the demon wanted to do that early morning was take a cold shower. Dear Satan he reeked of sulfur and brimstone. Crowley always hated his trips down to hell, the unbearable closeness and the constant struggle for power. Like why couldn't they just give him some God-blessed space. The demon hissed at the rising sun through his shades as he entered the apartment building. At least he got done a day early, only if it was a little darker out. A massive head-ache was pounding in his skull squishing his brain into putty. Napping for a few hours sounded nice too, he would visit Aziraphale later. Let his angel enjoy the quiet for a little longer.
Not bothering to get out his key, Crowley miracled it open with a snap. His flat was the same as always, cold and almost completely barren. He noted with a small sense of delight that his plants seemed to be well watered. Quickly the demon's head popped up, the distinct sound of footsteps were coming from the other side of the flat. Someone else was here. The footsteps were running now, and Crowley tensed up prepared for a fight. Whoever broke in was going to regret it. But to his surprise a young boy bolted around the corner looking looking relived. The child stopped dead in his tracks almost toppling over upon seeing the lanky demon. The look of relief and joy was instantly replaced with fear and apprehension.
Crowley was ready to tear this small trespasser a new one. All he wanted was to fall in bed, not deal with whatever this was. Couldn't kids find other trouble to get into besides his? Fury was building up in his stomach, and he was starting to condenser miracling this little brat to Taiwan. Then Crowley stopped right in his tracks, something was wrong. Part of being a demon is being able to sense fear, and sure any kid would be terrified in this situation and had the right to be, but this wasn't normal. The fear radiating off the boy wasn't the average got-caught-going-to-get-in-trouble-with-mom, it was more desperate and real. More like a man held at gunpoint then a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, and behind that initial fear, Crowley could feel a nagging worry focused on someone else.
The demon took a step-back, swallowing his rage. The boy seemed a little older than seven, a little on the small side for his age. He had olive skin and a small amount of short-cut hair much the same color as the demon's could be seen from under a beanie. Crowley noted with some amusement the pink light-up sneakers. His clothes and rain jacket were damp, dark circles ringed his brown eyes as if he didn't sleep last night. The poor kid was defiantly in more trouble than a simple prank gone wrong.
"Who a-are you?" the boy asked voice quivering. He took a weary step back looking at the demon suspiciously, almost as if Crowley was the intruder.
"I'm Crowley and this is my flat! I'm the one asking questions here," he growled. Crowley hadn't meant to be that harsh but he was still felt like sinking back into his bed. The demon had a sinking felling that wasn't an option anymore.
"So why are you here?" Crowley sighed. There was no point in scaring the boy too much. The demon relaxed his body and ran a hand through his hair.
"Az-Mr. Fell told me to wait here for him but he never came," the boy began to tear up, fishing out a key from his pocket. It was the spare Crowley had made for Aziraphale in case of emergencies. Worry began to creep into the demon's mind. Maybe there was a perfectly harmless explanation.
"Why would he tell you that?" he asked, a sense of urgency in his voice.
"The bad men broke into the bookshop and were coming for u-" the kid rapidly explained through tears. He never got a chance to finish, Crowley was already out the door. The demon's feet barely touched the stairs as he leaped down them with inhuman speed. By the time he reached the parking lot, the Bentley had started its own engine. Practically diving into the driver's seat, Crowley set off like a bat out of hell (or a snake out of hell to be more precise).
It had only been two days. He had thought Aziraphale would be fine on his own for such a short amount of time. The angel had always had a knack for finding trouble but this truly had to be a record. Crowley cast a sideways glance at his cell. He should call, find out for sure. But the demon couldn't make himself do it. It would be just like when the bookshop burnt down and he thought he lost his best friend for good. Crowley willed the car to go faster, he may have failed Aziraphale that day but never again will he let anything happen to his angel.
He'd almost reached Soho when Crowley realized that he actually had no idea who he was up against. It couldn't have been his lot could it? Sure Hastur still had it out for him, but this wasn't his style. Hastur was always more direct in his bastardness. The angels maybe, they hadn't made even a peep since the ArmaGetItOn. A cold shiver ran down Crowley's spine. All those years from the way Aziraphale talked of them, he had thought the other angels were kind and friendly. But the way they looked down on Aziraphale with such disdain, like he was beneath them. All the little things they did to intimidate the principality like bullies on a school yard. Before, Crowley had always had a dislike for the ethereal beings but now it was different, it was personal.
The demon double parked haphazardly. He strode to the front door with anger and purpose, only to find it ajar. The lock had been smashed and the deadbolt too, the door itself hung loosely on its hinges. Crowley pushed it open easily ,stepping into the trashed shop. Bookshelves had been knocked over strewing priceless books all over the floor, one of the potted plants had been smashed and dirt had been spread by a small army of feet. Far too many footprints for just a few men, a dozen was more like it.
"Aziraphale!" Crowley yelled in vain. He already knew there would be no answer, Aziraphale was gone. Panic was rising in Crowley's throat, he dashed towards the stairs. The angels knew, they had discovered the switch and wanted Aziraphale gone for good. Oh God, he could be burning in hellfire right now. But as he climbed the first stair, Crowley's finger caught on the wood banister, a long sliver lodged itself into the demon. Hissing in pain, he swirled around to look at the offending cedar, then sucked in his breath in surprise. A bullet was lodged in the wood creating a spiky crater around the impact. Angels didn't use guns, neither did demons, only humans used the clever contraptions.
Crowley almost felt relived, humans couldn't kill an angel only discorporate them. But his stomach still rolled at the thought. Who would have such a grudge against his angel anyway? He was so sickeningly nice and impossibly naive, he couldn't even steal a pen from the bank without breaking down crying. It defiantly couldn't have been a gang, Crowley had made sure none of them were even close to this street decades ago. There was the occasional rich man upset at Aziraphale's unwillingness to sell, but they had never been a problem before.
The apartment on the second floor was much of the same as the store. Furniture was overturned and personal items littered the floor, the whole place had been turned upside down. But as he entered the living room the signs of struggle were obvious, the middle of the room had been cleared of debris, kicked away during the brawl. Bending down Crowley inspected a dark stain. Dried blood, not enough to be harmful but it pooled into a sizable puddle. Please let it be one of the attacker's. But what caught his eye next not even he could deny.
"Oh Aziraphale what did you do?" A large white feather laid to the side of the room, almost innocently. Crowley's hands shook uncontrollably as he gathered it up. It was a primary feather, one of an angel's largest. Unlike down, they simply weren't meant to come out easily. And he knew from personal experience how much it burned when ripped out. Like tearing out a fingernail, a really big fingernail. Crowley had no idea who did this but what he did know was that he was going to tear them apart.