Summary

:Crowley and Aziraphale run into a spot of trouble while searching for the Fountain of Youth.Notes:Prompts: Swamp; wound cleaning; "no, I can't feel anything"Prompts Used: swamp (was aiming for all three, but didn't quote make it)Takes place in the 16th century, in what would eventually become Florida.


Chapter 16: Necrosis

"Please, Crowley, tell me again why we are tramping through this dreadful swamp?"The demon rolled his eyes. "You're here because your boss told you to investigate this fountain of youth business. I'm still trying to figure out why I'm here."Aziraphale grimaced as his nice new boots released from the muck with a wet pop. "Yes, well, I believe you said something along the lines of, 'you'll get bite by a water moccasin, Aziraphale' or 'care to be a spot of lunch for an alligator, angel?'. You insisted on coming along. And, oh, don't think me ungrateful, Crowley. I always enjoy your company, but," the angel wiped a cobweb that had stuck to his linen tunic, "I do not understand why we are here. Why would a fountain be in the middle of a swamp? Legends place it all over the world."The swampy mud hardened slightly into drier, sandy ground, and Crowley took the opportunity to sit on a log. "Some stuffy Spaniard was claiming he knew where it was, and he said it was here. Well, somewhere. Downstairs got a whiff of it, too, but they don't really care. Figure it could be good for business and all. Humans get greedy over these types of things, start wars, yadda yadda."The angel stared briefly at the log, as though deciding whether it was worth it to sit on the dirty thing."Oh just sit, angel. It won't bite."A dissatisfied hum sounded next to him as Aziraphale primly sat down, before he shot right back up."Ouch! It did bite me, you fiend!"Crowley stood up as well, tearing his glasses off and scanning the ground. The tip of a black tail disappeared into the underbrush. "Bollocks!""Oh...oh dear."Aziraphale plopped down into the log. A silk handkerchief appeared in his hand, and he used it to wipe at his brow. Crowley watched as his skin paled."All right, angel, let's have us a look. Where did it get you?"The blonde blushed, the pink standing out starkly on sallow cheeks. He pointed a well manicured finger towards his rear."Well," Crowley tipped his head, his lips smacking, "at least you shouldn't have to worry about the necrosis for awhile."Aziraphale huffed, "Crowley! I could be dying, you wicked serpent! In a swamp, no less! And all you can do is make fun of me!"Using a conjunction to begin a sentence was a sure-fire way to know Aziraphale was upset, so Crowley backpedaled quickly. "You'll be fine, angel. Let's have a look then, c'mon."The angel stood and loosened his belt. He lowered the layers to reveal a stretch of milky white skin, marred by an ugly bruised spot.Crowley igored the tempting bit of soft flesh and focused on the issue at hand. He bent down and examined the discolored area, noting the two tiny pinpricks in the center.When he stood back up, Aziraphale's face had morphed from white to slightly green."You don't look too good, angel."

The look the redhead received rivaled the venom. "Could you please heal it, dear? I really do not feel well."

"Yes, angel, keep your trousers on," he winked. A flash of relief sped through him at the exaggerated roll of sky blue eyes.

Bites weren't too difficult to heal, but they could be tricky. He focused his energy at the entry points, sending through the bloodstream and pumping out into the body. A sigh of relief signalled when the job was done, and he stepped back.

Aziraphale quickly fixed his clothing. "Yes, well, that was unpleasant."

Crowley picked up the machete he'd been using to clear some of the underbrush, then pat the angel on the shoulder. There was zero chance that he used a teeny demonic miracle at that moment, essentially placing a "do not bite" sign on his companion. "A complete fluke, I'm sure. Now, let's find this bloody fountain and get out of this bloody swamp."