Supermoon over Mesopotamia
Supernatural fanfic: Crowley and Naomi, written by Sage
Standard disclaimer: I don't own the characters or any part of the show. Just an avid fan.
Inspired by dialogue from Ep 8.17
Crowley: Easy, love. If you remember our time in Mesopotamia like I do, you know I'm a lover, not a fighter.
Naomi (scowling): What do you want, you cockroach?
Long ago, in Mesopotamia:
The sun had set hours prior, leaving the stars visible in the firmament. Naomi stretched her awareness toward them, touching the edges of her brothers and sisters. The bass notes of the archangels, like tympani under the glittering choir of seraphim, elohim and cherubim, tickled her grace.
Tonight her assignment brought her to a Mesopotamian crossroads on the outskirts of Babylon, where the souring of souls showed a concentration only stirred by a demon specializing in deals darker than those of the local human market. This demon's fingerprints showed collection day was nigh, coinciding with the full moon's arrival at perigee-syzygy. A supermoon. While free will allowed for hell's minions to collect in such a way, she and other angels plotted a counter to this. If they arrived before collection and coerced repentance, they could draw the soul back to heaven, or at least neutrality vs. damnation. A moment when several could be saved at once was a golden find. Glory would be hers, praise from her siblings and from Father.
Her vessel's lips curved in a smile as she sipped the goblet of wine. The soured and fermented fruit warmed her stomach where she perched on the low garden wall watching for moonrise. At its perihelion the demon would be here to collect and she would be ready. In honor of the supermoon, the village hosted a celebration; most every citizen nearby came in fellowship. Many of the marked also partook of the local vintage in the garden behind her, laughing and telling stories of their good fortunes of the prior decade, as though bragging about it made collection of their bargained souls go away.
"Come and join the party," said a man behind her.
She sipped her wine and gestured to the edge of the eastern hills. "And miss that?"
He stood beside her in silence, gazing into the distance. The moon rose, round, full and orange. Her grace reached out toward its face, the rapture of reflected sunlight beaming coolly, drawing her out. She sighed in pleasure as the bright orb cleared the horizon, rising into the sky quickly.
A shadow brushed her ethereal wings, made her shiver with pleasure. How? She whipped her head to her companion, who refilled her goblet before meeting her gaze. She spun off the wall to her feet, blade in her hand.
"Now, now. No need for that, love." He smiled at her, a charming, friendly, salesman smile. "You know, if you want to blend in, you shouldn't lose your concentration over the moonrise. I'm Crowley, by the way, and you are?"
"Here to stop you."
"Ah." He held her refilled goblet out to her, his other hand occupied with another. After a moment she lowered her sword and took the goblet. The demon did not draw a weapon or make any threatening move. Faced with an unarmed opponent, she sheathed her angel blade.
"Don't worry-it's not poisoned." He sipped his wine and sat on the garden wall, patting the spot beside him. The moonlight gleamed off his hair and glittered in his dark eyes.
Tentatively, Naomi sat beside him. "It wouldn't work anyway." She tucked her wings away, loath to touch him again. The thrill of that first touch haunted her.
"Their souls have been promised to hell in exchange for whatever they desired at the time, with full knowledge of the time limit. It's spelled out in the contracts. Some of them have noble intentions even your kind can appreciate."
"And others are corrupted by sinful temptation."
"The gift of the Morningstar, I'm afraid. You remember your brother, I trust?"
Her nostrils flared at the reminder.
"Yes, well the prodigal son gets all the attention, doesn't he? Trust me, love, I'm not over fond of him either."
"He created you."
"Doesn't mean I owe him anything." He set his cup to one side with a hollow clink.
He tilted his head to assess her. "I've never been this close to one of you lot, the 'good' ones. You're quite beautiful."
"Tell me another story, demon. Don't mistake my vessel for me." She gazed at him over the edge of her goblet as she drank, hoping he wouldn't see her vessel's blush or detect her increased pulse.
He chuckled. She didn't pull away as he reached closer to stroke one hand down her braided hair. The long plait reached to her waist. He drew the end through his fingers, pausing to feather the brush at the tip.
"I can see you through your lovely facade. All glitter and shine like the moonlight." He held up his hand and watched his shadow on the garden path. "Our meatsuits obey the laws of this land. Light casts shadow. One dependent upon the other. You and I are no different. You are light, I am shadow. Right here, right now, we exist in tandem. The Chinese have a symbol for this-they call it a yin and yang. Light and dark entwined like lovers. But inside each is a piece of the other. I can see that in you as well. Tell me, princess, what's your prize back home for thwarting my deals today?"
She swallowed, guilt escaping in a ripple. He'd guessed at her motive of pride, called it out as though it was stamped on her forehead.
"I'll give you a bigger prize. And I won't even collect in a mere ten years. Longevity of our type makes that silly."
"I lack a soul to collect." She frowned at him, intrigued.
"You can have all of mine. These little people here, with their petty wants, they dull in comparison to your glory. May I?" He reached for her hand.
She slipped her fingers into his cool palm. A shock of static flowed between her grace and the edges of his demonic presence, a sensation like pepper on the tongue.
He drew a circle in her palm with his thumb. "Touching you is like the purity of an icy spring. The new-fallen snow. The first peep of birds in the nest. My dear, you shine to me like the moon above. Never have I felt so close to my maker's maker." He raised her hand to his lips for a kiss. "With no irony I say you are divine. If only the mortals around us could see you as I do, they would fall to their knees and weep. You're looking for repentance among those who signed their souls to the crossroads-show them this." His shadow rolled around her, an unseen cloud, brushing the edges of her grace in a delicate kiss. Her wings drooped away from hiding, the tips marking the wall with tiny sparks.
Her vessel reacted to the nearness of his, blended with the wine and poetry. Her lips parted as he tugged her closer, bringing his face nearer to hers. His true face, underneath his vessel yet visible to her, glowed as coals in a cooking fire, beautiful and deadly. The faintest hint of smoke, of cooking meat, lingered on his skin. From inches away, he met her gaze.
"Show them, angel. Show them what you are and I'll give you today's contracts."
She narrowed her eyes. "Just like that?"
"The pleasure of being bathed in your grace is reward enough. One small detail. The deal isn't complete unless you kiss me."
A shiver quivered through her as his breath brushed her face. She had been told demons were horrific, repellant, disgusting. So far her experience showed the opposite. Her power exceeded his; she could smite him with a word of Enochian, rip his vessel's flesh to pieces, send him packing to hell with a gesture. She knew he knew this, yet he dared come so close to her, be this vulnerable. He hadn't reached for her sword. What harm could come from taking his dare?
The moon rose higher in the sky. The humans in the garden courtyard chattered and laughed, their gaiety adding to her giddiness. She could save all of tonight's victims and all for merely being herself.
She moved to meet his lips with hers. Chaste it did not stay; he put his arms around her back and pulled her in. She couldn't stop her vessel's reaction to the sensation as the kiss deepened. Darkness swirled around her as heat at her core spun her seraphic love his direction. As her light melded with his shadow she understood the symbol he'd spoken of. Her wings spread of their own accord, glowing in the moonlight. His lips left hers to kiss along her jawline and down her neck below her ear. A spark of wicked pleasure grew into a blackened ember within her, melding with her pride at her cleverness.
He lifted his head and smiled. "Now, show them."
He guided her to her feet and spun her to face the garden.
She stood tall, wings outspread, and raised a hand, allowing her true form to shine through the veil enough to be detected by the mortals. Crowley squinted and shielded his eyes with one hand, watching the people as they gaped her direction.
"Be not afraid. I am an angel of the Lord. I command you to repent of your sins and be redeemed."
Men fell to their knees before her. Women screamed. Naomi glowed brighter in her triumph, and as the vibrations of their souls fed her she rose up on the breeze above them.
The moon reached perihelion. Crowley chuckled then laughed openly, holding his belly, as the people expired before her eyes.
One by one they fell gibbering to the pavement, blood spouting from their eyes and ears. Naomi dropped to the ground, suppressing her light and tucking her wings in. She ran from one to the next but was unable to heal anyone. They were all dead. Fifty people or more.
"What did you do?" she accused.
Crowley held his hands up. "Not me. You did this. That angelic peepshow is costly."
The icy presence of Death silenced the crickets as he walked the earth among them. He turned a dour stare on the desperate angel. "Naomi, these people have expired before their time. You'll be receiving a visit from Fate, I should expect." He strolled to the side of one man and extracted a mottled soul.
She stabbed an accusing finger at Crowley, who was still giggling. "He said he'd give me the souls he'd made deals with for tonight."
A scroll appeared in Death's hand. He flicked his gaze down a list. "And so he has. Ten hell bound souls reverted to heaven. However, the balance of evil on the remaining villagers present, owing to their debauchery and disingenuous trade deals, has turned them toward hell, irredeemable upon expiration. I am here merely to judge the one soul that was not easily weighed."
"But that's cheating!"
Death raised an eyebrow at her, turned and left. Crowley guffawed.
"You horrid, wicked, stinking bug!" Her fist clenched around the hilt of her sword, ready to draw.
"Ah-ah-we made a deal." His smile grew cold. "Pleasure doing business with you, Naomi."
Between one breath and the next, he was gone.
Naomi screamed. Her true voice shattered pottery in every home of the village.
The moon crossed the sky.