If a demon screams in the woods... [video]

[hellbentley]

[A redhead in sunglasses squints into the mirrors.]

[He's already had his moment of freaking out in the woods, already frantically looked around for his best friend who'd been sitting next to him before the ground fell out from under him, already spent time discovering the massive hit to his powers, and already freaked out about the loss of his wings.]

[He's gotten it out of his system, which is why Crowley's expression as he looks into the mirror looks a lot more like a very old person squinting into a smartphone and trying to figure out how to make a call.]

[His tone is almost bored. The calm is purely calculated.]

So, the whole Chosen one thing, who exactly's done the choosing?

[He sounds English. He kind of is, kind of isn't. Do you sound like you're from a place if you were there before the place even existed?]

[His tone is dry ice, each word carefully emphasized. He sounds unimpressed.]

I have notes.

Comments

[hellbentley]

[Crowley makes a little skeptical noise, crossing his arms.]

They can if they're not actually ducks. Even the nonhumans here seem to be mortals.

We're going to have to small talk. Act like we have normal mortal backgrounds.

[He grimaces.]

Remember names. They've always got all kinds of names - sometimes the same name as someone else. And we'll have to remember them. Hate remembering names.

[Also...well, he doesn't like admitting to something being a threat to himself, calling attention to himself like that. But it is one.]

If they somehow find us out, you'll be fine. You're an angel.

[oldbookshop]

[ Hm. It sounds dreadful all around when he puts it like that. But that is occasionally Crowley's inclination.

Helps keep things in perspective. It's sometimes the case that Aziraphale will handle hoping for the best and Crowley will handle thinking about preparing for the worst. It's hard to blame him for it. And, as ever, it's hard not to love him for it.

Do they look old enough to get away with having trouble with names? By human standards? Oh, dear. He hasn't the foggiest. Aziraphale gets caught on that long enough to have a minor delay in processing from point A to point B, which is a point that he genuinely hadn't thought about.

If he weren't already sitting upright as properly as ever, he'd sit up straighter. He looks outright offended. This is entirely offense taken on a hypothetically-outed Crowley's behalf. ]

Don't be ridiculous. If they somehow find us out, we'll both be fine. One way or another.

[ Some of these people, from what he's gathered so far, probably wouldn't care regardless. He can't speak for the rest of them. ]

I'm not allowing anything less.

[ Does Aziraphale want to pick up another frying pan and fend off a zealous mortal like the world's poshest personal bodyguard? No. Of course not. Would he do it if things escalated? Yes.

He may not have reached the wrap-up back home, but he's certainly past the point where pretending not to be invested in Crowley's well-being is the best safety measure. ]

[hellbentley]

[His lips twitches in a little cringe at how concerned Aziraphale seems. But he has right to be.]

We've got to consider the worst case scenario. People find out someone's an angel and it's 'oh, look at that! We've got a guardian angel, look at our luck!'

[He looks around to be extra sure no one is listening.]

They find out what I am and they'll be reaching for the torches and pitchforks.

[oldbookshop]

My dear, we're far past the point where anyone will be inclined to think I've brought good luck.

[ That's just pedantry, though. Less about the actual point being made.

He loves humans. The overzealous superstitious sort aren't any fun to be around. ]

I won't let anything happen to you.

[ Which is as much of a promise as he can make. Won't let. Can't promise nothing ever will happen to him.

If nothing else, he at least has his larger capacity for bringing sincerity to bear.

Fine thing it would be to lose Crowley now, after everything. ]

[hellbentley]

[For a breathless moment, all Crowley can do is look at his friend. He knows that he means it. He knows the depths of what Aziraphale would do to keep him safe. Despite the fact he's basically a walking marshmallow in both forgiving spirit and daily disposition.]

[He knows the depths he himself would go to in the face of all this strangeness and uncertainty to keep Aziraphale safe, too.]

[It is a definitive turning point. "I don't even like you" and "there is no 'our side, Crowley'" completely pivoting in a 180 to "I won't let anything happen to you."]

[Quite a few things have changed since the gazebo, since Aziraphale refused to run away with him into the stars.]

[Crowley wonders if he'd run away with him now, if there truly was no fixing things. (Or at least go on a short vacation up there.) For a half second he also wonders what Aziraphale would look like bathed in the light of stars and nebulae when he already has a natural glow about him, a sort of luminescence radiating from his skin.]

[He wonders what it would be like to see stars in his eyes, especially the ones Crowley himself had made ages ago. Wouldn't it be nice if he'd made a gift for him completely by accident? In the quiet eons when he was still creating things, before he'd fallen.]

[He can't give him such gifts of creation now, so the old ones before his fall would have to do.]  

[So much "you go too fast for me, Crowley" now. It seems as if Aziraphale is slowly but surely catching up. And Crowley isn't entirely sure what to do with feelings of being cared for.]

[Through all his long years, he hasn't felt actually genuinely protected often. Not since... not since he'd felt safe in the warm embrace of Her favor.]

[He doesn't know what to do with this so he goes with downplaying it, naturally.] 

Well. You know. If you get into trouble, s'mutual. 

[oldbookshop]

[ Aziraphale smiles in spite of himself, in spite of the serious nature of the conversation, glances away for a moment; half-entertained, half-bashful.

It's just a very Crowley way to go about saying it. He's missed him terribly.

Maybe he's been ridiculous missing him over a handful of days when they've gone for centuries without catching sight of each other in the past, putting the context of what was happening in Tadfield aside, but, well.

Telling himself he's been ridiculous has never gone far in terms of stopping him from being a bit ridiculous. ]

Of course it is. [ Crowley drove to the apocalypse in a flaming car because Aziraphale popped up to give him an address and asked him to be there. He's turned up in the past even when Aziraphale was gone on assuming he wanted nothing else to do with him.

Crowley's sort of terrifyingly steady, really. Whether it's deserved or not.

He wonders if 'steady' or 'reliable' would go over better than 'kind.' ]

I'll do my best to keep a cleaner record. I think you've earned as much of a holiday from trouble as we can manage here.

[ Considering there were actual nightmare creature attacks on the first night, and Aziraphale is ultimately still Aziraphale, no concrete timespan of holiday can be delivered in good conscience. ]