Aziraphale felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes, and felt as if he were going to fall to his knees. The young man watching him smiled softly. "I assume by the look on your face. You are the angel he was speaking of? Don't know what you did to him. But you sure broke him." The man said, looking at the door to the back area of the Church. "However. Perhaps, divine intervention took pity on him." The man added. Aziraphale looked up, confused by this "What do you mean?"
"Check that backroom. You will see for yourself." The man pointed to the door. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, and swiftly approached the door opening it. A small study area and a bed. But on the bed was a figure. "Impossible." The angel gasped, rushing to the bed. Though the left side of his face, chest, and left arm were all covered in horrific looking burns. It was Crowley. "Crowley?" He whispered, surprised to see his demonic friend somehow still alive. "Divine mercy indeed..." He added. But realized keeping the demon there on consecrated ground was only making the injuries worse.
Gently he picked the unconscious demon up, and grabbed his burned-up jacket and shirt on the stand by the bed. "It is best he does not stay here. The holiness is hurting him." Aziraphale explained. "Of course. Besides. Best the priest don't find a demon here. Perhaps we will meet again Aziraphale." The young man opened the Church door so the angel could leave with Crowley. Aziraphale paused, looking at the young man. Surprised he knew the angel's name. However, Crowley was more important than that. So, for now he rushed home. Once far enough from view, he used a miracle, making himself, and Crowley appear back in his bedroom at the bookshop.
He gently laid Crowley on his bed, and grabbed a clean cloth to clean the wounds with. Along with some bandages. The wounds were beginning to heal some. Leaving black and red scarring. However, no matter how hard the angel tried. He could not miracle away the wounds. "Oh Crowley, I never should have left." He sighed looking down. Still, how was the demon still alive? Holy water is supposed to melt demons away basically. Body and soul. And yet, Crowley was alive, and intact. Burned, but alive.
Once the wounds were clean, he quickly albeit gently bandaged them. Crowley moved some, moaning softly. His yellow serpent like eyes slowly opened and scanned the room. 'Ah, some secret eighth circle of hell dead demons go to?' He wondered. Noting how, pretty the room was. Though a bit messy with books, it was too bright and pretty to be any part of Hell he had seen before. Then he noticed the figure standing over him. His eyes focused, becoming less blurry. "...Angel?" He whispered, doubting his own eyes.
"Thank goodness, you are awake now." Aziraphale smiled softly. "What, how, not possible." Crowley muttered trying to sit up. But Aziraphale held him down gently by his right shoulder. "Best not to move just yet. You got hurt pretty badly. It is nothing short of a miracle that you are still alive." Aziraphale explained. Crowley glanced at him. "And why are you here?" He asked after a few moments of silence. "I, well. After I left realized I could not abandon a friend of mine. So came back for them." Aziraphale explained. Crowley tilted his head slightly, wondering who the friend was. 'Nina or Maggie perhaps?' He figured.
"My wings." Crowley sighed, sitting up despite Aziraphale's protests. "What about them?" The angel asked. "When it happened. They, came out to try and protect me. I can still feel them burning. I fear how bad they got damaged." Crowley sighed. Aziraphale frowned, then grabbed a clean wet cloth, bandages and ointment. "Alright then. Show me your wings. I tended to your other wounds. May as well check them too." He said calmly. Crowley stared at him for a few moments then nodded, summoning his wings.
A loud flap and flutter as the wings appeared. The smell of burning sulfur made it clear they were damaged before Aziraphale even saw them properly. "Oh, oh my. I, this is unexpected." The angel stuttered, shocked by what he was seeing. "Angel, how bad is it? Are they burned away completely or something?" Crowley began to worry he would never fly again. "I, no. Your left wing is burned badly. But will heal. it is your right wing that, is puzzling me a great deal." Aziraphale stated, pointing to the right wing. Crowley glanced at it. "What, the, HELL?!" Crowley was shocked. Not only was his right wing uninjured unlike the left one. But, it was a pure snow white. Like his wings were thousands of years ago when he was still an angel. His left wing was still black as coals. But, his right wing now white as snow.