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Warning. This part was 5500 words long before it was annotated. Um. It's ... sort of long.
Temptation 2
"Let me tell you a story," the Devil said. [Which, I think, was possibly one of the best opening lines I've managed in this verse. Heh]
Between them, at their feet, holy fire flickered fitfully, ruddy light licking up dark walls like water, lapping across the floor and pooling in the Devil's shadow. A sanctified echo of Hell. Lucifer smiled. [That's ... actually an echo of a story I wrote years and years and years ago. The light of Hell ... Huh. Hadn't noticed that]
"Let me tell you a story," he went on, tilting his head with a small smile for his captive, ignoring the wary glare he got in return. "You'll appreciate it, I promise. It's one that's ... very close to your heart. Or would be, if you had known of it." [One of the things I love about Mark Pellegrino as Lucifer is how ... affable he is, how genteel about his evil. *grins* He's horrible, but it's wonderful to watch]
The angel he had captured glared at him. "Is this really the time for stories?" he asked, waspishly. Courageously. Finding strength in audacity, as he always had. Lucifer felt a hungry quiver inside him at the sight. [*snuggles Crowley tight* He's so pissy when he's scared]
"This story?" he answered, indulgently. [Indulgent ... when it's coming in between the bouts of rage, it looks really, really freaky when he does that -_-;] "Yes. Yes, I think there is time for this story. In fact ... I think this story may well be one of the most important for this day and age. For these ... troubled times. It contains an important moral, you might say. Some facts that certain people, yourself most of all, should really be aware of, if they intend to keep acting as they have." [*frowns* I don't know yet to what extent he planned this. Well, I mean, in the context of this story I think he's been planning something since Apocalypse Mk I, and to use Crowley since soon after he hit planetside, but ... I still don't know if Lucifer was planning something like this from the moment he took Crowley's name in the first place. *tilts head* I don't think so. That was ... that was close to self-defense on Lucy's part, and a finger at Dad, and I think he possibly also thought that one day he could use it for something, but ... no. I don't think he planned quite this]
The angel shifted nervously at that, frowning. "What do you mean?" he asked. Nervously. Worried. Afraid. Defiant.
Delicious. [Originally, these segments were from Crowley's POV. This entire first part was written that way. And then Lucy had that thought, that horrible, prurient thought, and suddenly he was telling the story instead -_-;]
Lucifer smiled, fatherly and malicious and concerned, sweet as rotting. "Listen," he said. "Listen, and you'll understand. Listen." [He does like to monologue just a bit. Like all the best villains. *grins*]
***
[I didn't notice it at the time. I'm not sure why, though it may have something to do with not realising Lucy was going to be narrating the other segments. But ... Lucy and Sam. Devil and Vessel. The POV of this chapter apparently decided to be an odd sort of mirror ...]
Sam groaned when the thundering on the door jerked Gabriel up and away from him, almost yelled when the archangel fell away and took his warm, slippery fingers and hungry mouth with him. [Have people forgiven me yet, for being such a horrible tease here? *grins sheepishly*] He almost shouted, decidedly pissed off, because a little warning, here? That too much to ask? And he'd been enjoying that. He'd been really, really enjoying that. Gabriel, it turned out, had really talented hands.
But the archangel wasn't listening to his complaints. The archangel was, in fact, crouched on the floor beside Sam, head tilted warily at the wall, as if seeing something Sam couldn't, looking out at whoever -whatever?- was doing their damnedest to pound the door in. [I'm pretty sure Gabriel is good at recognising the auras of gods, by this stage. Plus. He looked sort of pretty, crouched there -_-; I'm shallow sometimes, yes?]
The expression on Gabriel's face wasn't at all happy, whatever it was he saw. Seeing that, Sam swallowed his mutterings, and started trying to tie his pants and find his shirt.
***
[Monologuing. Also, a story unto itself. It got away from me a bit]
"Once upon a time, there was an angel. An ordinary little angel, no-one very special or important. No-one powerful, or favoured, or bright. Just an angel, one of many, standing in the remnants of a once-beautiful Heaven. An angel who had watched the Fall of his Brothers, who had seen the War of Heaven, who had witnessed the betrayal of his kind. An angel who stood watching as his brothers strove to rebuild, to reaffirm, to understand. Just another survivor, one of many. [This isn't ... quite true, you know. Most of the facts, yes, but even some of them ... Lucy is putting a definite spin on this, to keep Crowley in his place]
"But this angel was different from the others. This angel was something else. Not a terrified little yes-man, like so many. Not a stalwart questioner, a bright rebel, like those who had Fallen. [This is, after all, Lucifer telling the story] This angel was something ... quieter. Something, in his way, far more dangerous. This angel was a thinker. And while his brothers muttered among themselves, whispered and questioned and reached desperately for answers they were never going to get, this angel did something different. [It doesn't show, because that's not the point of this little recital, but I think to this day Lucy is still somewhat baffled by what Crowley did, way back then. Slightly confused that of all the things the angel could have chosen following the Fall, this is what he goes for?]
"This angel went, very quietly, to the place over-looking the source of all their troubles, the source of all their woe. He went to sit above the Garden of Eden, went to sit and watch the humans there, the originators of an angel's sin. ['It's not my fault, I'm not to blame, it was the gypsy girl, the witch who set this flame ..." For some reason Hellfire from Notre Dame was in my head, here. It's the human's fault Lucifer disobeyed, obviously. Not his own. Definitely not. He was a righteous man. Well, angel] He propped his chin in his hand, looked down on the reason his Father had betrayed them [And he is bitter, people], and ... thought. Slowly. Carefully. Considering them. Evaluating them.
"Understanding them. [And having stolen Crowley's memory, having seen what Crowley thought, having seen the angel's understanding ... I wonder if it hasn't been eating at him for six thousand years. He rejected it, obviously, but I wonder ... how much it's been gnawing at him]
"While Heaven staggered back to its feet, while God watched uncaring [Say again, bitter. Really, really bitter], one angel went to Eden's Walls, and thought."
***
Dean and Cas made it to the hall before them. Which wouldn't have been exactly surprising, considering what Sam and Gabriel had been doing, except that Castiel was looking more than a little rumpled himself, and when Sam caught Dean's eye his brother shot him an exact replica of Sam's own grimace. [Because it's not every day an angel says he loves you, and you vow to love him back, and I'm gonna guess Aziraphale had to leave them to it rather rapidly. *grins, snuggles them*]
Looked like he wasn't the only one this intruder had deprived of a bit of angel nookie. Once one of them worked up to actually opening the door, whoever was out there was going to rue the fucking day. Seriously. [You don't interrupt a Winchester with his angel. *nods seriously*]
Aziraphale, coming in behind them, smiled faintly at the lot of them [He's all fondly amused, I think], edged around Castiel gingerly, squeezed past Sam and Dean, and came to a stop beside Gabriel in front of the door. The angel frowned as the knock continued, steady and harsh and almost frantic, and glanced sidelong at the archangel as he rested his hand on the lock. Not opening it. Not yet. [And slightly confused, wondering why Gabriel is glaring at a lump of wood]
"Gabriel?" Aziraphale asked, cautiously. The archangel was staring a hole through the door, staring at whatever waited on the other side, separated from them by wards and bolts and wood. There was a frown on his face, a puzzled wrinkle, and he had unconsciously placed himself directly in line with the door, between it and them, so that if something came through, they'd have to go through him first. [Like with Kali in 5x19, I'm pretty sure Gabriel still has a few instincts in that direction. *smiles at him*]
Sam swallowed faintly.
"I know this presence," Gabriel murmured thoughtfully. "It's distorted by the wards, a bit, but it is familiar. But ... there's no reason, none whatsoever, for this person to be here. It took me forever to get in here, to even find it, and I was at most twenty minutes behind you after you ditched Zach at the warehouse. There is no way they should have been able to find you. Not here." [Because Crowley is a paranoid bastard when pushed, and lately he's been pushed. Also ... Gabe's been keeping an eye on things for a lot longer than people think]
Aziraphale frowned himself. "Unless ... Who is it? If they know Crowley from a while back, it's possible that he ...?" [Aziraphale is more than aware that his demon has, shall we say, a very wide variety of acquaintances]
"Asked them to stop by at his hideout?" Gabriel drawled, mouth curling contemptuously. "Come on. We both know that demon is way, way too paranoid for that. Besides. Why would he have asked them to come now, when he's buggered off to who knows where ..." He stopped, face freezing for a minute, as if he was trying very, very hard not to show the thought that had popped into his head. [Crowley's not the only paranoid personality these days. And it's a fair point, save that the poor demon genuinely had nothing to do with it. Aside from, you know, having it done to him]
Sam, Dean and Cas froze too, the same thought perhaps inevitably slipping into mind, the same kind of thought they'd been living with for a long, long time.
Why would a demon tell a stranger where to find them, and then make himself scarce?
Slowly, very carefully, they moved closer together, Cas standing ready out to one side, slightly in front of Dean, Sam moving to guard Gabriel's back, his brother at his side. Most of their weapons were still in the car, parked all the way over in Crowley's garage, but they still had some on them. They always had some on them, now. They'd been caught literally napping too many times to do otherwise. [Welcome to life as a hunter, boys and girls]
Aziraphale stared at them, brow wrinkled in confusion, something very sad filtering over his round features. "Don't," he said, very quietly. "Don't think that. You know it isn't true." [*smiles sadly at him* He doesn't like to think badly of people, to see distrust, and he really doesn't like it when it's directed at his demon]
And Sam wanted to agree with him. He really did. But one word echoed in his head, and probably in Dean's, that made it all but impossible.
Ruby. [That girl can be proud of a job really, really well done, I think. That was a hell of a number she did on them. No pun intended]
***
"Soon, the other angels noticed that this angel had not moved, that this angel was not helping with the rebuilding efforts. Many came to confront him, to challenge him, but the angel did not move. He ignored his brothers, and kept watching the humans, kept watching this Adam and this Eve. Trying to find the reason for Father's favouritism, trying to understand why these pitiful creatures could be worth the War, and the banishment of his brothers. [To paraphrase it though Lucifer's biases, anyway, but generally correct]
"Before long, even God Himself had noticed the angel's preoccupation. And one day, Father came to him Himself, to find its cause. He asked the angel why he watched them, and what it was that he saw. [... Okay, this is Lucy's POV and he's pissed off at God anyway, and given what happens next it's entirely possible Crowley was as well, desperately betrayed, but ... This wasn't cruelty. I mean, it was, but ... there was a reason for what He did next. I think ... He came to see the angel watching Eden because, for a second ... He hoped. And acted on that hope. Ineffable Plans have to start somewhere ...] And the angel answered:
"'I wanted to know what made them different, Father. I wanted to understand why.'[Because, I think, Crowley's a little bit like Cas. If you start thinking sensibly about things, you come to some interesting conclusions, and I don't think either of them can help themselves. They have to question things]
"And God asked him, 'Have you found your answer?'
"And the angel said, 'Yes, I have. It is ... this thing you have called free will. You have given them the ability to choose, and have no other will over-write that choice. I understand. But ...' [Lucy didn't. I'm pretty sure this is the part he rejected]
"The angel stopped, confused, and suddenly nervous. So God prompted him to continue, to ask the final question. And the angel did not want to, because the angel had seen what happened to those who questioned, because the angel had watched the Fall and wept. But he was too curious even for his own good, and desire to know compelled his question. [At the same time ... Crowley questioned, as Lucifer did, and I think ... just a little, just a tiny, tiny bit, Lucifer genuinely did pity and understand him]
"'Father ... what is it that they must choose between?' [And that's important, the answer to that question. That's ... something of a hint, as to who Crowley is in this verse. The Serpent was only the second step]
"And in that moment a terrible expression crossed our Father's visage. Something that was not anger, nor hate, but something worse. A determination. A pity. [He knows, He knows that what He's about to do is cruel, that it will hurt His child. He knows, and He does it anyway. Because it must be done. There has to be a choice] And God, in that moment, even as the angel started in fear ... God struck that angel down. Even as He had stricken his brothers. Even as He had cast them down. For the crime of questioning, for the crime of understanding, that angel was cast after the Fallen into the Pit. [Which Lucifer didn't understand either. Crowley might, if he remembers. Or he simply mightn't care. He doesn't seem to hold grudges all that well, for some reason. *frowns*]
"And it was there, as Hell began to form itself, as fallen angels searched for this late-falling star ... it was there that the Devil found him. It was there that Lucifer, the brightest of all, the first questioner, found that angel, and took pity on him." [It's a manipulation. Obviously. But there is also, I think, an element of truth in that. Lucifer stood alone to question, at first. I think he understood, if nothing else, the courage Crowley must have had to stand and question again, having seen what happened to him]
***
"Look, I can feel you in there, all five of you, so will you please just open the door?" [*grins* It was going to be Kitsune, to start. It was going to be the foxy bastard. But Spider crept in, all a-grinning, and more than a little put-out]
The voice echoed through the wood, through the silence as the knocking stopped at last, and then a sliding sound as whoever it was slumped against the other side of the door. They sounded tired, whoever they were. Tired and frightened and resigned. [*frowns* You don't see it in 5x19, because they're busy making the gods out to be arrogant monsters, but ... I don't imagine the world ending for First-Father's apocalypse ... Um. I mean, Yahweh's. Yahweh's. Damn weregild verse ... Anyway. I don't imagine it was much fun for the other gods. And then Lucy took Anansi's child]
They didn't sound like a threat. They didn't sound like someone a demon would send against them if he planned to betray them. They didn't, most importantly, sound like an archangel. Any archangel. Sam looked over at Dean, cautiously, and then to Gabriel, who was frowning again but not worried. Not anymore. The archangel wavered for a bit, thinking it over, then nodded at Aziraphale. [*smiles at them a little* Paranoia. Yes. But at least Zira's used to it]
"Oh, fine then," he snapped, peevishly. "But if the little bastard tries to kill us I'm blaming you." [Aziraphale's habit of trusting people can get on your nerves. Ask Crowley]
Dean snorted loudly. Gabriel glared at the both of them, and Cas and Sam too for good measure. Sam raised his eyebrows, and ruthlessly stifled his smirk. Gabriel, predictably, saw it anyway, his narrowed eyes promised retribution later. Once they got this little annoyance out of the way.
If they could get it out of the way.
"We gonna stand here all night, or are you actually gonna open the door at some point," Dean drawled, leaning back in amusement against the wall, the picture of relaxation. Except for the knife tucked against his arm, hidden from the door and ready. Aziraphale grimaced at him, but clicked the lock open and, carefully, swung the door open at last.
A small african man, gently aged and very, very handsome, looked up at them from his seat on the step, and grimaced expressively. [I have no idea where this image of Anansi came from. He's just ... small, in my head, and slightly seedy, with a smile that lights up his face. *shrugs*]
"It's well that you are not trusted to make any important rapid decisions," he reproached quietly. "If it takes you half an hour of standing in a hallway to decide if you should open a door or not." [Which is a fair point, let's be honest]
"Well, you know how it is, Anansi," Gabriel drawled back, gesturing flamboyantly, but his smile was somewhat fixed. "All these people out to kill us or sell us down the river, makes us a little wary about inviting them in around, you know?" [Sometimes, Gabriel is a bit like Crowley, I think. *smiles at them*]
The little man froze in his seat, an expression that looked a lot like guilt creeping over his striking features. [Spider, at least, didn't want to be used against them. But a parent does what a parent has to do, for his child]
Sam, who'd managed to almost relax for a second when a monster and/or angel hadn't immediately leapt at them through the door, began to feel something heavy and hard weighing down his stomach.
"Spider?" Gabriel narrowed his eyes, stepping forward a little, menacingly, though not crossing the threshold. "Anansi? Anything you want to tell us?" [This is Gabriel's world, and he's taking the lead, here]
The little Trickster grimaced in shame, but didn't answer. "Not you," he said instead. "I need to speak with Crowley's angel, if it is possible? He told me some time ago that I could find him here, if ever there was need." He paused, tilting his head, looking them over. "I did not expect to find so many of you. But then, perhaps I should not be surprised ..." [*smiles faintly* I know I shouldn't, because this is not a fun part, but I just love how Aziraphale is Crowley's angel. *shakes head* It just strikes me sometimes]
Gabriel growled, snapping forward onto the porch to scoop the other man up by the collar, completely ignoring the fact that it put him right out in the open. Sam leapt after him instinctively, one hand snagging the archangel's arm, the other braced on the doorframe to pull them both back inside if need be. Gabriel flashed him an unreadable look, but otherwise ignored his touch. [*grins at them* Sorry, sorry. I just love people playing unwittingly on each other's protective instincts. And I love too, though I shouldn't because it hurts, how surprised Gabriel always is to be on the recieving end. *snuggles the poor archangel*]
"Nancy, I should warn you that I'm not running on a lot of patience right now. Any time you want to start filling me in would be good ..." [I also love pissy, threatening Gabriel. I'm not quite sure why -_-;]
"Ah-ah! No." The Spider shook his head vehemently, but not in fear. In anger, maybe, or something like it. In shame, too. "I must speak with Crowley's angel. Only him. It's the bargain, Gabriel!" [But Anansi has a spine. *grins fiercely* It's harder than people think to intimidate the Spider]
If the archangel was shocked that the spirit knew his identity [Arrangements was started long before I saw 5x19, so there are some odd reactions between gods in light of that ep -_-;], he didn't show it, growling low in his throat and shaking him, but before he could resort to actual violence, Aziraphale stepped through the door after them, and reached out to rest his own hand over Sam's on Gabriel's arm. The three of them stared at him, one in confusion, one in concern, and one in annoyance.
Then they noticed that the hand laid over theirs ... was shaking. [Oh, Zira ...]
"I am Crowley's angel," Aziraphale said quietly, gently. "Please. Tell me your message, wise one. Tell all of us. Please."
Anansi looked at him for a moment, looked around at all five of them, at Dean and Cas in the hall, Sam in the doorway, and Gabriel and Aziraphale bracketing him like penitents. Or jailers. He looked at them, and sagged in Gabriel's grasp. [I don't suppose it would be fun, to be surrounded by that company, and knowing you were in the wrong ...]
"You must understand," he said, quietly, sadly. "The bright one threatened my children. He threatened my family."
Well shit. Like that was a conversational opener that ever went anyplace good ...
***
[*frowns* I'm not completely sure what the logic is between segment breaks here. I know I had one, but I can't quite remember. This part was a bit like Making Deals With Devils, in that it took whatever random format it needed for me to just get it onto paper. *shrugs*]
The angel smirked in scorn, raising one eyebrow. "Pity?" he asked, derisively. "When have you ever shown pity to anyone? Where's the poor bugger now, eh? Rotting somewhere? A gibbering wreck? Or just dead?" [*tilts head* I'm not sure why Crowley was simply 'the angel' until Lucifer identified 'the angel' as Crowley. That wasn't something I planned, as such, though I think it worked]
The angel stopped, though, when a dark, delighted smile crept over Lucifer's face, when he grinned almost helplessly at his captive. The angel stopped, and slowly but surely, suspicion crept forward in his eyes.
"None of the above," Lucifer murmured gently, smiling. "Yet." [I'm sorry, he does do menacing well, doesn't he?]
The angel shifted uneasily in his prison, curling into himself defensively. "What do you mean?" he asked, suspiciously, watching the Devil as if he could fathom the lie just from his look. [Crowley is a suspicious bastard, after all. Occasionally it serves him well] Maybe he could. This one had always been brighter than he let on, more interesting, more tempting. This one, if he ever cared to, might actually be capable of understanding Lucifer's goals, his feelings.
Which was sort of the purpose of this little endeavour, after all. [And occasionally, it really, really doesn't. Attracting Lucifer's interest is not a healthy thing to do]
"I said I took pity on him," he went on, still holding that indulgent smile. "It's true. I showed him the only mercy I knew, then. I gave him the only gift I could, this angel who had fallen too late. This angel who was none of mine. I didn't blame him for that. I didn't hurt him, even though I could have. He wasn't my follower. He might even have stood against me in the War. I owed him nothing. But I took pity on him. I knew the betrayal he had suffered. I knew his pain." [Again, this is blatant manipulation, but ... there might be some small scrap of truth in it. I'm mostly positive Lucifer did what he did in pure self-defense and a fit of rage, but ... there might be some truth in that]
The angel frowned at him some more, expression creeping back from confused suspicion to derision, incredulity. "That so?" he asked, flatly. Unconvinced. Lucifer smiled. [Crowley, though, is going with 'manipulation', because he's not an idiot]
"It is," he said, very softly. "But he doesn't remember that, this angel. He doesn't remember, or he would know the truth of my words. Because that ... that was my gift to him. That was my mercy. To take his memory. To take it for my own, to take his pain, his knowledge of the betrayal he had suffered, and leave him free to serve me as if he always had. To let him have a commander who cared, where none had before. This angel who had been struck down, for only trying to understand our Father's will. Who had tried to serve, and been betrayed. I knew that pain. I understood it. I pitied him. I did. So I took his pain for myself, and let him be free of it." [*frowns a lot* There's ... a lot of echo, here, between this and what Raph did to Gabriel, actually. Huh. Both sides ... doing bad things, doing outright horrible things, mostly because they feel they have to, that it needs to be done, and all of them lying to themselves that it's not wrong at all, that it's mercy or justice or simple necessity ... Doesn't really matter what side of the war you're on, there's not a lot in the way of right going around -_-;]
The angel stared at him, comprehension rising, fear bubbling up through him. Fear. Pain. Horror. Each expression delicious, perfect. Beautiful. The angel looked at him, and understood. "You ... You took my memories," he whispered, low and shocked. "That's why ... that's why I can't ... Heaven, my name ... none of it." [*snuggles Crowley desperately* Nothing left, nothing of who he might have been, who he might have known, nothing of the good times before the war, no idea why it was done to him ... Lucifer is a bastard, have I mentioned this? And entirely too happy about Crowley's pain]
"I took your pain," Lucifer whispered, gently. "I took it from you, and gave you a purpose. A job. A name. I gave you back everything that He took from you. I gave you your name. Gave it to you, and sent you above. I sent you to fulfil the purpose you were so obviously designed for. My Father, when He questioned you, when He understood your answer ... He knew what you would become. He always knew. That's why He struck you down. Not for questioning, not for rebelling. But for understanding. For realising what the humans were." [I broke you, I remade you, I shaped you to my will, and you are NOT questioning me the way you questioned my Father! You will remembered His betrayal, and not mine, because right now I need you, and I will HAVE you!]
His voice rose, gained vehemence, as he stepped forward, as he reached the edge of the boundary of flame and trapped the imprisoned angel all over again, in his gaze, in his voice, in his zeal. [Because Lucifer, as opposed to Satan, is not a Trickster or a Tempter or the whispering voice of sin. Lucifer is a zealot, and a visionary, and he swayed half of Heaven to his cause before he was done. He swayed the human demons like Meg. He's a zealot, and it's the sheer force of his personality that makes him dangerous] "He struck you down," he whispered, sibilantly, powerfully. "He cut you off, cast you down, threw you into the Pit. Not for any crime. Not for any sin. But because you were more useful as a demon. He tortured you, betrayed you, threw you away, because He wanted to use you. Because He wanted you to show them, those creatures, those mudmen, their little choice. He wanted you to be what you've become. He sacrificed all that you were, all that you could have been, took away your every choice, just so He could give them one more gift. Just so He favour them that little bit more. He betrayed you. Don't you see that?" [And in this at least, he is not wrong. It's filtered through his viewpoint and his bitterness and his biases, but factually, and from Crowley's POV, he is not. Wrong. Again. That is the very, very dangerous thing about him. As with Nick. What he says is true, if viewed through a certain lens, and that makes it hard to refute]
The angel shook his head, bewildered, stricken. "I don't ... I don't ... Why? Why are you telling me this? Why now?" [Which is largely a stall, but what the hell are you supposed to say, faced with the Morningstar in full-on declamation mode?]
Lucifer smiled at him sadly, twisting his face into soft pity, moulding it into what was needed. The human face was stiff, damaged, but beneath his will it did as he asked. [Again with Mark Pellegrino. He's really good at playing something that is not,decidedly NOT, human] "I didn't want to. When I sent you above, when I gave you your freedom from the knowledge of what had been done to you ... I expected you to do your job. To do what was right by us. To help me prove to our Father that the humans weren't worth all that He had destroyed for their sake. I expected you to help me. To make sure that they chose the right choice, of the two my Father gave them. I expected you to do what you were designed to do. I expected you to serve." [Everything you believed is a lie, you have been betrayed, but I can offer you another faith. Again. You failed me last time, but I will give you another chance, while you're weak, while you're desperate, and you WILL do what I want you to. Maybe not immediately, maybe not right now, but sooner or later what I have said will poison you, and you will come back to me]
He paused, smiled into golden eyes that widened in comprehension, in sick understanding. He smiled at the once-angel, at the demon. Smiled at what had been, and always would be, his. [*smiles lopsidedly* Crowley. Not any angel. Crowley]
"Crawly. My serpent. My precious serpent. I gave you your name, and your job, and everything you are. And now, I want something back. I want you to put aside these foolish notions you have, that humans are worth something. Worth anything. I want you to stop fighting me. I want you to remember who betrayed you first, remember what was done to you, remember what I gave you to make up for it. I want you to remember what you are. I want you to do your job!"
He stopped, pulled himself back under control, put aside the roar in the face of his captive's terror, and put back on his smile. [He took the betrayal hard. For ... more reasons than one, and I'll explain that soon, in upcoming chapters. Because Lucifer has a reason for that break in control, for that raw fury. Oh, he does have a reason. I'm actually mildly impressed by the control he has to use Crowley, instead of just destroying him]
"I want you to come back," he finished, simply. "I want you back, Crowley. I'm the only one who has ever done right by you. I want you back."
And one way or another, you will come. [Or I will destroy you, and believe me, I will enjoy it!]
***
[The climb of tension, swapping between the two threads ... I don't think I was consciously watching it. But I like this one, between Crowley on the crux of a choice, and the others unaware of the danger they're suddenly all in, asking desperate questions, and just, just starting to understand. I like this switch]
"What happened, Nancy?" Gabriel growled, expression twisting, turning pale. But he knew. They all knew. Before the little Trickster ever said a word. They knew.
"He gave me no choice," Anansi whispered, sadly. "Crowley's been on his shit-list ever since the first apocalypse, and since the incident with the Colt ... He found some of us. Some of Crowley's contacts. He's been rooting us out, trying to close a net on him. Waiting for Crowley to move again. To look for information. Anything. It was just unfortunate that ... Crowley came to me, a couple of hours ago. Looking for access to some of my boys' businesses. Came to me for help. And I ... I had no choice. The bright one threatened my son. He hurt my son." [Anansi is trying to explain. Not excuse, but explain. He does know he was wrong, but he had no choice. The demon was not worth his son]
Sam bit his lip, shaking his head. He backed up a step on autopilot, backed away from the little man and what he was saying. Backed away from what it meant. He bumped into Dean, felt his brother reach out to catch his arm and steady him, met the cold, pained expression in his eyes. Beside him, Cas' face had settled like stone, like granite. [How often has this shit happened to them, by this stage? How many have they lost?]
"Where is he?" Castiel asked, harshly. "Where did you take him?" [Cas is asking the question mostly because Cas has the control to, because Cas gets grim and efficient under pressure. Also scary. Really, really scray]
Anansi looked at them, shaking his head, face crinkled in genuine pain. "I only told the other where to come, and wove ... wove a web to hold Crowley there until he came. Crowley ... he knew. He knew as soon as I moved what had happened. He knew ... he knew what the bright one would have to have done, to make me. He knew. He asked ... he asked me to come here. To tell his angel. He asked me to make sure I was not followed, that no-one else, bright one or otherwise, be able to find you through me. And he asked me to tell you. To tell you ..." [*smiles lopsidedly* Crowley is paranoid as hell, but he knows what drives people to do what they do in extremis. He's been watching it for six thousand years, and he knows. In an odd sort of way, he's one of the most forgiving of them. He'll act in anger or in self-defense, but not in cold vengeance. Not even against the likes of Hastur. He's seen too much for anything else]
Someone made a small sound. A choked, whimpering gasp, a stricken sob. [Oh, Zira! Oh Zira]
As one, all of them turned to Aziraphale.
The angel was looking at Anansi. He was very pale, shaking softly. Gently. His eyes were dry, but suspiciously bright, and his expression for one endless second was nothing but pain, and a deep, etched grief. A quiet horror. Then, by some miracle, Aziraphale shoved it down, shoved it away, and reached out to gently detach Gabriel's hands from Anansi's collar, and free the little god. [*watches him helplessly*]
"I ..." he started, and swallowed. "I'm sorry that you've been ... that you've been used so, Mr Anansi. I hope ... I hope your boys are alright, that you get them back. And ... thank you, very much, for bringing me his message. I know it was a risk. Thank you." [That there? That? That is why I love Aziraphale. That is why I adore that angel. *blubbers*]
They stared at him. All of them. Sam could feel something climbing his throat, could distantly feel the burning behind his eyes. Aziraphale tried a wobbly smile, reaching out to catch Anansi's hand gently.
"Is he ..." he asked, voice breaking before he caught it. "Do you know ... Is he ...?" [...]
Anansi shook his head, a depthless sorrow in his eyes, a grieving pity. "I don't think so," he said, with forced strength, but maybe ... maybe there was a glimmer of genuine conviction there too. "He's too damn useful to get rid of, that one. Too damn sly to let himself be gotten rid of. You trust me on that. The bright one ... he may be terrible, but he has needs, up here. Needs your demon can play on. None better. Trust me. He'll not fall until he's ready, that one." [I think he really is hoping, here. Hoping he hasn't just killed the demon. Not just in fear, but ... Well, after a while, you start getting attached to Crowley]
Aziraphale gave him another wobbly smile, pulling himself together with a visible effort. "Yes," he murmured, absently. "I'm sure you're right. I'm sure ..." [Aziraphale has been in England a long time. Stiff upper lip ...]
"We have to find him!" Sam spoke up, flinching a little as everyone looked at him, but determined nonetheless. Crowley hadn't betrayed them. The demon, this demon, hadn't betrayed them. Instead, he'd been betrayed, and Sam ... couldn't let that lie. Couldn't let it go. [*smiles a little bit* We abominations have to stand up for each other, sometimes]
Couldn't bear the look in Aziraphale's face. [...]
"I agree," Castiel said quietly. "I have been a prisoner of Lucifer myself, and he did not kill me. There is every chance that the Spider is right, and Crowley is still alive. If that is the case ... we must find him, and help him." Their angel stood stiff and firm, his eyes fixed firmly on Aziraphale's face, and Sam thought he might be attempting to look reassuring, in that very grim, Cas-like way of his. [*smiles lopsidedly at him* Oh, Cas, seriously, never change]
"No arguments here," Dean growled. "Sonofabitch might be a slimy little bastard, but we're not leaving him to be Devil-chow. We're not leaving anyone to be Devil-chow!" [I love that about Dean. He's almost ... Granny Weatherwax-ish, in that way. It doesn't matter who or what you are, if you're his, nobody gets to take you on his watch]
Aziraphale stared at them, blinked furiously, wringing his hands in confusion. "You don't ... you don't have to. We said ... Crowley and I, we said we'd look out for you. You don't have to risk yourselves ..." [The Arrangement goes both ways between him and his demon, but they've been six thousand years on their own in what amounts to enemy or neutral territory, and he's not used to this group thing]
"Shut up, Aziraphale." [Not nice about it, but Gabriel isn't often nice anyway, and he's pissed off, now] And that was Gabriel. The archangel, who'd been silent for a long time, staring at the hand Aziraphale had pried from the Spider's neck, looked up now, and his expression ... his expression was terrible. Cold. Implacable. Sam, who remembered that face from only an hour ago, who remembered it warm and laughing and sad and playful, who remembered it leaning close to lick at his lips and grin into his moan, almost shuddered. This was not the Trickster. This wasn't even Gabriel, not his Gabriel, not their Gabriel. This was someone ... older. Harder. This was someone who'd fought wars, once, someone who'd done terrible, terrible things in his Father's name, in His service. This was the archangel. [He's mellowed now, after so long in disguise and away from Heaven, but biblically Gabriel was not exactly a lightweight. Archangel can kick ass, if he feels like it]
Aziraphale shut up. [Well, you would]
"Too far," Gabriel whispered, almost below hearing. "Too far, brother. That one is mine. I don't care if you had him once. He's mine, I stole him, and you don't ever get him back. You don't get to take what's mine." His eyes flashed up, briefly, met Sam's, something rich and dark and fiercely possessive in them. Something powerful. [Gabriel has more or less had it up to here with those assholes, with Lucifer and Michael taking what's his, and breaking what's his, and destroying everything that matters to him, and he's pissed off, this time]
"I can find him," Gabriel said, cold as void. "Not Crowley. My brother. I can find him. I can always find him." He turned, looked at Castiel, shaking with power. "And you can find me. Lucifer can hide Crowley. He can't hide me. You can follow me, once I've found them. You can find me." [Looks to Cas, because he knows Cas is in the frame of mind to follow through right now. Castiel is very good at following through]
Castiel nodded slowly, grimly. "Yes," he said. Simply. Flatly. Implicit agreement, instant trust. Yes. That simple. [I love Castiel's approach to battle, to danger, to his charges. Even at his most fallen, Castiel never stood down from the fight. Never backed away. *grins fiercely* I do love that about him]
"And us," Dean said, stepping up beside his angel, one hand landing on Cas' shoulder. Immovable. Together. A unit, whole and complete, and then Dean reached out to rest his other hand on Sam. Team Free Will. And Sam, for his part, caught Gabriel's arm, ignoring the jolt of almost shock from the archangel, tugging him in, making him part of it, while Castiel reached out, far more gently, and brought Aziraphale forward. "We're not leaving anyone behind. Not this time." [*grins some more* Misfit mobilisation moment, yes. Lucifer, that may have been a mistake, on your part]
Not this time.
Gabriel smiled at them, fierce and cruel and proud, just for a second. "Then be ready," he whispered. "Be ready." And then ... he vanished. In an instant, there and gone again, and all that showed his passing was the silent beat of massive, innumerable wings. The Messenger, the Trickster. Hunting. [Tricksters are not nice, often. Archangels are not nice, hardly ever. And when either is angry, it's usually time to run]
Aziraphale stared after him, white and trembling, leaning into Castiel, and beneath the fear and grief in his eyes there was an echo of Gabriel's fury. Slow and deep, banked inside him. Sam remembered Zachariah, remembered the warehouse, remembered the calm, quiet planning this angel was capable of. He remembered the gleam in Castiel's eyes as he plotted with Crowley, remembered the almost-glee of it. He remembered that. [Mind you, most angels, even Southern Pansies and almost-faded angels, are not for messing with]
And he remembered the look on Dean's face when the Devil simply stood back up after being shot with the Colt. He remembered Carthage, and Jo and Ellen. He remembered demons slaughtered simply because it was convenient, and a town laid to waste simply because the Devil wanted it so. He remembered the quiet, reasonable sound of Lucifer's voice, and the implacable malice that lurked underneath it. [The question is, though ... can it be enough? They've lost so much already. Can it be enough?]
He remembered all that, and thought of Crowley. Thought of the demon prisoner to it.
He remembered that, and hoped they'd be in time. Hoped they'd be able to do something even if they were. [And Sam ... well, Sam isn't the optimistic type, anymore]
***
[And after that build-up, and before next chapter's adrenalin rush ... something quieter. Something small and quiet and despairing, to finish us out]
Crowley looked at him for a long moment, a pantomime of expression pouring across his face, a strange delight for Lucifer to taste. To admire. Crowley looked at him, fear and confusion first, melting to pain, to calculation, to fear again, to incredulity, to disgust, to pain again, and then ... then to something else. Something different. Something Lucifer had never, ever wanted to see, not on any face, not ever again. Something he had seen only once before, on his Father's face, just before the Fall. Something loathsome.
Pity. [Lucifer is an angel of pride, after all]
"You great pillock," Crowley sighed, swinging his hands, crouching down inside his prison as if to lessen the target he presented, but there was no hesitation in him, and what fear was there was tamped down, held in check, and over it ... only pity. "You great bloody pillock. All this bloody time, and you never got it, did you? You never got it." [Lucifer may be Heaven's greatest zealot, may have pulled half of Heaven down with the force of his rhetoric and his personality, but Crowley didn't fall so much as wander vaguely downwards. Crowley didn't fall for it the first time, and he's spent 6000 years since then listening to every human zealot try the same trick, and by this stage Lot's wife has got nothing on the amount of salt with which Crowley takes things]
"What are you talking about?" he growled, dangerously, a whipcrack of power. Crowley flinched, but didn't stop.
"You think this is about betrayal?" he said, very quietly. "You think this is about who hurt me first, or most, or at all? You think this is about humanity?" [Well, it is, but not in terms of who's right or who's wrong. He's just fond enough of them not to want to see them wiped out] He smiled lopsidedly, shook his head. "I don't care about that. I don't care. I don't give a flying fuck what Daddy did to me, way back when. I don't care who betrayed me. I'm a fucking demon! Hello? Betrayal's the name of the bloody game! I'm not picking sides based on shit like that." [A pragmatist of the first order, is our Crowley]
Lucifer glared at him coldly. "Oh? And what are you picking sides for, then?"
Crowley stood, slowly, fluidly, the serpent never more clear in his features, the venom never more clear in his voice. "I'm choosing the side that lets me keep what matters to me," he hissed, slow and deadly. [In order, Aziraphale, survival, family and the world. Possibly negotiable on that last one] "I'm choosing the side that letsss me have my world, and my friendsss, and my angel. I'm choosssing the ssside that isn't trying to fucking kill what matters to me! And that side? Is not bloody yourssss!"
He smirked, terrified and fierce, shaking to his bones, pointing a trembling finger in Lucifer's face. "Sssso you ... You can go fuck yourself, if it's all the sssame to you." [*smiles fiercely at him* Oh, Crowley]
The Devil stared. For a long, long time.
And then, he raised his hand. [*grimaces ruefully* Crowley. Why do you always decide to be brave and principled right when it'll get you killed?]
[And then next chapter it all goes to hell. Rather spectacularly. *grins*]
[End]
"Let me tell you a story," the Devil said. [Which, I think, was possibly one of the best opening lines I've managed in this verse. Heh]
Between them, at their feet, holy fire flickered fitfully, ruddy light licking up dark walls like water, lapping across the floor and pooling in the Devil's shadow. A sanctified echo of Hell. Lucifer smiled. [That's ... actually an echo of a story I wrote years and years and years ago. The light of Hell ... Huh. Hadn't noticed that]
"Let me tell you a story," he went on, tilting his head with a small smile for his captive, ignoring the wary glare he got in return. "You'll appreciate it, I promise. It's one that's ... very close to your heart. Or would be, if you had known of it." [One of the things I love about Mark Pellegrino as Lucifer is how ... affable he is, how genteel about his evil. *grins* He's horrible, but it's wonderful to watch]
The angel he had captured glared at him. "Is this really the time for stories?" he asked, waspishly. Courageously. Finding strength in audacity, as he always had. Lucifer felt a hungry quiver inside him at the sight. [*snuggles Crowley tight* He's so pissy when he's scared]
"This story?" he answered, indulgently. [Indulgent ... when it's coming in between the bouts of rage, it looks really, really freaky when he does that -_-;] "Yes. Yes, I think there is time for this story. In fact ... I think this story may well be one of the most important for this day and age. For these ... troubled times. It contains an important moral, you might say. Some facts that certain people, yourself most of all, should really be aware of, if they intend to keep acting as they have." [*frowns* I don't know yet to what extent he planned this. Well, I mean, in the context of this story I think he's been planning something since Apocalypse Mk I, and to use Crowley since soon after he hit planetside, but ... I still don't know if Lucifer was planning something like this from the moment he took Crowley's name in the first place. *tilts head* I don't think so. That was ... that was close to self-defense on Lucy's part, and a finger at Dad, and I think he possibly also thought that one day he could use it for something, but ... no. I don't think he planned quite this]
The angel shifted nervously at that, frowning. "What do you mean?" he asked. Nervously. Worried. Afraid. Defiant.
Delicious. [Originally, these segments were from Crowley's POV. This entire first part was written that way. And then Lucy had that thought, that horrible, prurient thought, and suddenly he was telling the story instead -_-;]
Lucifer smiled, fatherly and malicious and concerned, sweet as rotting. "Listen," he said. "Listen, and you'll understand. Listen." [He does like to monologue just a bit. Like all the best villains. *grins*]
***
[I didn't notice it at the time. I'm not sure why, though it may have something to do with not realising Lucy was going to be narrating the other segments. But ... Lucy and Sam. Devil and Vessel. The POV of this chapter apparently decided to be an odd sort of mirror ...]
Sam groaned when the thundering on the door jerked Gabriel up and away from him, almost yelled when the archangel fell away and took his warm, slippery fingers and hungry mouth with him. [Have people forgiven me yet, for being such a horrible tease here? *grins sheepishly*] He almost shouted, decidedly pissed off, because a little warning, here? That too much to ask? And he'd been enjoying that. He'd been really, really enjoying that. Gabriel, it turned out, had really talented hands.
But the archangel wasn't listening to his complaints. The archangel was, in fact, crouched on the floor beside Sam, head tilted warily at the wall, as if seeing something Sam couldn't, looking out at whoever -whatever?- was doing their damnedest to pound the door in. [I'm pretty sure Gabriel is good at recognising the auras of gods, by this stage. Plus. He looked sort of pretty, crouched there -_-; I'm shallow sometimes, yes?]
The expression on Gabriel's face wasn't at all happy, whatever it was he saw. Seeing that, Sam swallowed his mutterings, and started trying to tie his pants and find his shirt.
***
[Monologuing. Also, a story unto itself. It got away from me a bit]
"Once upon a time, there was an angel. An ordinary little angel, no-one very special or important. No-one powerful, or favoured, or bright. Just an angel, one of many, standing in the remnants of a once-beautiful Heaven. An angel who had watched the Fall of his Brothers, who had seen the War of Heaven, who had witnessed the betrayal of his kind. An angel who stood watching as his brothers strove to rebuild, to reaffirm, to understand. Just another survivor, one of many. [This isn't ... quite true, you know. Most of the facts, yes, but even some of them ... Lucy is putting a definite spin on this, to keep Crowley in his place]
"But this angel was different from the others. This angel was something else. Not a terrified little yes-man, like so many. Not a stalwart questioner, a bright rebel, like those who had Fallen. [This is, after all, Lucifer telling the story] This angel was something ... quieter. Something, in his way, far more dangerous. This angel was a thinker. And while his brothers muttered among themselves, whispered and questioned and reached desperately for answers they were never going to get, this angel did something different. [It doesn't show, because that's not the point of this little recital, but I think to this day Lucy is still somewhat baffled by what Crowley did, way back then. Slightly confused that of all the things the angel could have chosen following the Fall, this is what he goes for?]
"This angel went, very quietly, to the place over-looking the source of all their troubles, the source of all their woe. He went to sit above the Garden of Eden, went to sit and watch the humans there, the originators of an angel's sin. ['It's not my fault, I'm not to blame, it was the gypsy girl, the witch who set this flame ..." For some reason Hellfire from Notre Dame was in my head, here. It's the human's fault Lucifer disobeyed, obviously. Not his own. Definitely not. He was a righteous man. Well, angel] He propped his chin in his hand, looked down on the reason his Father had betrayed them [And he is bitter, people], and ... thought. Slowly. Carefully. Considering them. Evaluating them.
"Understanding them. [And having stolen Crowley's memory, having seen what Crowley thought, having seen the angel's understanding ... I wonder if it hasn't been eating at him for six thousand years. He rejected it, obviously, but I wonder ... how much it's been gnawing at him]
"While Heaven staggered back to its feet, while God watched uncaring [Say again, bitter. Really, really bitter], one angel went to Eden's Walls, and thought."
***
Dean and Cas made it to the hall before them. Which wouldn't have been exactly surprising, considering what Sam and Gabriel had been doing, except that Castiel was looking more than a little rumpled himself, and when Sam caught Dean's eye his brother shot him an exact replica of Sam's own grimace. [Because it's not every day an angel says he loves you, and you vow to love him back, and I'm gonna guess Aziraphale had to leave them to it rather rapidly. *grins, snuggles them*]
Looked like he wasn't the only one this intruder had deprived of a bit of angel nookie. Once one of them worked up to actually opening the door, whoever was out there was going to rue the fucking day. Seriously. [You don't interrupt a Winchester with his angel. *nods seriously*]
Aziraphale, coming in behind them, smiled faintly at the lot of them [He's all fondly amused, I think], edged around Castiel gingerly, squeezed past Sam and Dean, and came to a stop beside Gabriel in front of the door. The angel frowned as the knock continued, steady and harsh and almost frantic, and glanced sidelong at the archangel as he rested his hand on the lock. Not opening it. Not yet. [And slightly confused, wondering why Gabriel is glaring at a lump of wood]
"Gabriel?" Aziraphale asked, cautiously. The archangel was staring a hole through the door, staring at whatever waited on the other side, separated from them by wards and bolts and wood. There was a frown on his face, a puzzled wrinkle, and he had unconsciously placed himself directly in line with the door, between it and them, so that if something came through, they'd have to go through him first. [Like with Kali in 5x19, I'm pretty sure Gabriel still has a few instincts in that direction. *smiles at him*]
Sam swallowed faintly.
"I know this presence," Gabriel murmured thoughtfully. "It's distorted by the wards, a bit, but it is familiar. But ... there's no reason, none whatsoever, for this person to be here. It took me forever to get in here, to even find it, and I was at most twenty minutes behind you after you ditched Zach at the warehouse. There is no way they should have been able to find you. Not here." [Because Crowley is a paranoid bastard when pushed, and lately he's been pushed. Also ... Gabe's been keeping an eye on things for a lot longer than people think]
Aziraphale frowned himself. "Unless ... Who is it? If they know Crowley from a while back, it's possible that he ...?" [Aziraphale is more than aware that his demon has, shall we say, a very wide variety of acquaintances]
"Asked them to stop by at his hideout?" Gabriel drawled, mouth curling contemptuously. "Come on. We both know that demon is way, way too paranoid for that. Besides. Why would he have asked them to come now, when he's buggered off to who knows where ..." He stopped, face freezing for a minute, as if he was trying very, very hard not to show the thought that had popped into his head. [Crowley's not the only paranoid personality these days. And it's a fair point, save that the poor demon genuinely had nothing to do with it. Aside from, you know, having it done to him]
Sam, Dean and Cas froze too, the same thought perhaps inevitably slipping into mind, the same kind of thought they'd been living with for a long, long time.
Why would a demon tell a stranger where to find them, and then make himself scarce?
Slowly, very carefully, they moved closer together, Cas standing ready out to one side, slightly in front of Dean, Sam moving to guard Gabriel's back, his brother at his side. Most of their weapons were still in the car, parked all the way over in Crowley's garage, but they still had some on them. They always had some on them, now. They'd been caught literally napping too many times to do otherwise. [Welcome to life as a hunter, boys and girls]
Aziraphale stared at them, brow wrinkled in confusion, something very sad filtering over his round features. "Don't," he said, very quietly. "Don't think that. You know it isn't true." [*smiles sadly at him* He doesn't like to think badly of people, to see distrust, and he really doesn't like it when it's directed at his demon]
And Sam wanted to agree with him. He really did. But one word echoed in his head, and probably in Dean's, that made it all but impossible.
Ruby. [That girl can be proud of a job really, really well done, I think. That was a hell of a number she did on them. No pun intended]
***
"Soon, the other angels noticed that this angel had not moved, that this angel was not helping with the rebuilding efforts. Many came to confront him, to challenge him, but the angel did not move. He ignored his brothers, and kept watching the humans, kept watching this Adam and this Eve. Trying to find the reason for Father's favouritism, trying to understand why these pitiful creatures could be worth the War, and the banishment of his brothers. [To paraphrase it though Lucifer's biases, anyway, but generally correct]
"Before long, even God Himself had noticed the angel's preoccupation. And one day, Father came to him Himself, to find its cause. He asked the angel why he watched them, and what it was that he saw. [... Okay, this is Lucy's POV and he's pissed off at God anyway, and given what happens next it's entirely possible Crowley was as well, desperately betrayed, but ... This wasn't cruelty. I mean, it was, but ... there was a reason for what He did next. I think ... He came to see the angel watching Eden because, for a second ... He hoped. And acted on that hope. Ineffable Plans have to start somewhere ...] And the angel answered:
"'I wanted to know what made them different, Father. I wanted to understand why.'[Because, I think, Crowley's a little bit like Cas. If you start thinking sensibly about things, you come to some interesting conclusions, and I don't think either of them can help themselves. They have to question things]
"And God asked him, 'Have you found your answer?'
"And the angel said, 'Yes, I have. It is ... this thing you have called free will. You have given them the ability to choose, and have no other will over-write that choice. I understand. But ...' [Lucy didn't. I'm pretty sure this is the part he rejected]
"The angel stopped, confused, and suddenly nervous. So God prompted him to continue, to ask the final question. And the angel did not want to, because the angel had seen what happened to those who questioned, because the angel had watched the Fall and wept. But he was too curious even for his own good, and desire to know compelled his question. [At the same time ... Crowley questioned, as Lucifer did, and I think ... just a little, just a tiny, tiny bit, Lucifer genuinely did pity and understand him]
"'Father ... what is it that they must choose between?' [And that's important, the answer to that question. That's ... something of a hint, as to who Crowley is in this verse. The Serpent was only the second step]
"And in that moment a terrible expression crossed our Father's visage. Something that was not anger, nor hate, but something worse. A determination. A pity. [He knows, He knows that what He's about to do is cruel, that it will hurt His child. He knows, and He does it anyway. Because it must be done. There has to be a choice] And God, in that moment, even as the angel started in fear ... God struck that angel down. Even as He had stricken his brothers. Even as He had cast them down. For the crime of questioning, for the crime of understanding, that angel was cast after the Fallen into the Pit. [Which Lucifer didn't understand either. Crowley might, if he remembers. Or he simply mightn't care. He doesn't seem to hold grudges all that well, for some reason. *frowns*]
"And it was there, as Hell began to form itself, as fallen angels searched for this late-falling star ... it was there that the Devil found him. It was there that Lucifer, the brightest of all, the first questioner, found that angel, and took pity on him." [It's a manipulation. Obviously. But there is also, I think, an element of truth in that. Lucifer stood alone to question, at first. I think he understood, if nothing else, the courage Crowley must have had to stand and question again, having seen what happened to him]
***
"Look, I can feel you in there, all five of you, so will you please just open the door?" [*grins* It was going to be Kitsune, to start. It was going to be the foxy bastard. But Spider crept in, all a-grinning, and more than a little put-out]
The voice echoed through the wood, through the silence as the knocking stopped at last, and then a sliding sound as whoever it was slumped against the other side of the door. They sounded tired, whoever they were. Tired and frightened and resigned. [*frowns* You don't see it in 5x19, because they're busy making the gods out to be arrogant monsters, but ... I don't imagine the world ending for First-Father's apocalypse ... Um. I mean, Yahweh's. Yahweh's. Damn weregild verse ... Anyway. I don't imagine it was much fun for the other gods. And then Lucy took Anansi's child]
They didn't sound like a threat. They didn't sound like someone a demon would send against them if he planned to betray them. They didn't, most importantly, sound like an archangel. Any archangel. Sam looked over at Dean, cautiously, and then to Gabriel, who was frowning again but not worried. Not anymore. The archangel wavered for a bit, thinking it over, then nodded at Aziraphale. [*smiles at them a little* Paranoia. Yes. But at least Zira's used to it]
"Oh, fine then," he snapped, peevishly. "But if the little bastard tries to kill us I'm blaming you." [Aziraphale's habit of trusting people can get on your nerves. Ask Crowley]
Dean snorted loudly. Gabriel glared at the both of them, and Cas and Sam too for good measure. Sam raised his eyebrows, and ruthlessly stifled his smirk. Gabriel, predictably, saw it anyway, his narrowed eyes promised retribution later. Once they got this little annoyance out of the way.
If they could get it out of the way.
"We gonna stand here all night, or are you actually gonna open the door at some point," Dean drawled, leaning back in amusement against the wall, the picture of relaxation. Except for the knife tucked against his arm, hidden from the door and ready. Aziraphale grimaced at him, but clicked the lock open and, carefully, swung the door open at last.
A small african man, gently aged and very, very handsome, looked up at them from his seat on the step, and grimaced expressively. [I have no idea where this image of Anansi came from. He's just ... small, in my head, and slightly seedy, with a smile that lights up his face. *shrugs*]
"It's well that you are not trusted to make any important rapid decisions," he reproached quietly. "If it takes you half an hour of standing in a hallway to decide if you should open a door or not." [Which is a fair point, let's be honest]
"Well, you know how it is, Anansi," Gabriel drawled back, gesturing flamboyantly, but his smile was somewhat fixed. "All these people out to kill us or sell us down the river, makes us a little wary about inviting them in around, you know?" [Sometimes, Gabriel is a bit like Crowley, I think. *smiles at them*]
The little man froze in his seat, an expression that looked a lot like guilt creeping over his striking features. [Spider, at least, didn't want to be used against them. But a parent does what a parent has to do, for his child]
Sam, who'd managed to almost relax for a second when a monster and/or angel hadn't immediately leapt at them through the door, began to feel something heavy and hard weighing down his stomach.
"Spider?" Gabriel narrowed his eyes, stepping forward a little, menacingly, though not crossing the threshold. "Anansi? Anything you want to tell us?" [This is Gabriel's world, and he's taking the lead, here]
The little Trickster grimaced in shame, but didn't answer. "Not you," he said instead. "I need to speak with Crowley's angel, if it is possible? He told me some time ago that I could find him here, if ever there was need." He paused, tilting his head, looking them over. "I did not expect to find so many of you. But then, perhaps I should not be surprised ..." [*smiles faintly* I know I shouldn't, because this is not a fun part, but I just love how Aziraphale is Crowley's angel. *shakes head* It just strikes me sometimes]
Gabriel growled, snapping forward onto the porch to scoop the other man up by the collar, completely ignoring the fact that it put him right out in the open. Sam leapt after him instinctively, one hand snagging the archangel's arm, the other braced on the doorframe to pull them both back inside if need be. Gabriel flashed him an unreadable look, but otherwise ignored his touch. [*grins at them* Sorry, sorry. I just love people playing unwittingly on each other's protective instincts. And I love too, though I shouldn't because it hurts, how surprised Gabriel always is to be on the recieving end. *snuggles the poor archangel*]
"Nancy, I should warn you that I'm not running on a lot of patience right now. Any time you want to start filling me in would be good ..." [I also love pissy, threatening Gabriel. I'm not quite sure why -_-;]
"Ah-ah! No." The Spider shook his head vehemently, but not in fear. In anger, maybe, or something like it. In shame, too. "I must speak with Crowley's angel. Only him. It's the bargain, Gabriel!" [But Anansi has a spine. *grins fiercely* It's harder than people think to intimidate the Spider]
If the archangel was shocked that the spirit knew his identity [Arrangements was started long before I saw 5x19, so there are some odd reactions between gods in light of that ep -_-;], he didn't show it, growling low in his throat and shaking him, but before he could resort to actual violence, Aziraphale stepped through the door after them, and reached out to rest his own hand over Sam's on Gabriel's arm. The three of them stared at him, one in confusion, one in concern, and one in annoyance.
Then they noticed that the hand laid over theirs ... was shaking. [Oh, Zira ...]
"I am Crowley's angel," Aziraphale said quietly, gently. "Please. Tell me your message, wise one. Tell all of us. Please."
Anansi looked at him for a moment, looked around at all five of them, at Dean and Cas in the hall, Sam in the doorway, and Gabriel and Aziraphale bracketing him like penitents. Or jailers. He looked at them, and sagged in Gabriel's grasp. [I don't suppose it would be fun, to be surrounded by that company, and knowing you were in the wrong ...]
"You must understand," he said, quietly, sadly. "The bright one threatened my children. He threatened my family."
Well shit. Like that was a conversational opener that ever went anyplace good ...
***
[*frowns* I'm not completely sure what the logic is between segment breaks here. I know I had one, but I can't quite remember. This part was a bit like Making Deals With Devils, in that it took whatever random format it needed for me to just get it onto paper. *shrugs*]
The angel smirked in scorn, raising one eyebrow. "Pity?" he asked, derisively. "When have you ever shown pity to anyone? Where's the poor bugger now, eh? Rotting somewhere? A gibbering wreck? Or just dead?" [*tilts head* I'm not sure why Crowley was simply 'the angel' until Lucifer identified 'the angel' as Crowley. That wasn't something I planned, as such, though I think it worked]
The angel stopped, though, when a dark, delighted smile crept over Lucifer's face, when he grinned almost helplessly at his captive. The angel stopped, and slowly but surely, suspicion crept forward in his eyes.
"None of the above," Lucifer murmured gently, smiling. "Yet." [I'm sorry, he does do menacing well, doesn't he?]
The angel shifted uneasily in his prison, curling into himself defensively. "What do you mean?" he asked, suspiciously, watching the Devil as if he could fathom the lie just from his look. [Crowley is a suspicious bastard, after all. Occasionally it serves him well] Maybe he could. This one had always been brighter than he let on, more interesting, more tempting. This one, if he ever cared to, might actually be capable of understanding Lucifer's goals, his feelings.
Which was sort of the purpose of this little endeavour, after all. [And occasionally, it really, really doesn't. Attracting Lucifer's interest is not a healthy thing to do]
"I said I took pity on him," he went on, still holding that indulgent smile. "It's true. I showed him the only mercy I knew, then. I gave him the only gift I could, this angel who had fallen too late. This angel who was none of mine. I didn't blame him for that. I didn't hurt him, even though I could have. He wasn't my follower. He might even have stood against me in the War. I owed him nothing. But I took pity on him. I knew the betrayal he had suffered. I knew his pain." [Again, this is blatant manipulation, but ... there might be some small scrap of truth in it. I'm mostly positive Lucifer did what he did in pure self-defense and a fit of rage, but ... there might be some truth in that]
The angel frowned at him some more, expression creeping back from confused suspicion to derision, incredulity. "That so?" he asked, flatly. Unconvinced. Lucifer smiled. [Crowley, though, is going with 'manipulation', because he's not an idiot]
"It is," he said, very softly. "But he doesn't remember that, this angel. He doesn't remember, or he would know the truth of my words. Because that ... that was my gift to him. That was my mercy. To take his memory. To take it for my own, to take his pain, his knowledge of the betrayal he had suffered, and leave him free to serve me as if he always had. To let him have a commander who cared, where none had before. This angel who had been struck down, for only trying to understand our Father's will. Who had tried to serve, and been betrayed. I knew that pain. I understood it. I pitied him. I did. So I took his pain for myself, and let him be free of it." [*frowns a lot* There's ... a lot of echo, here, between this and what Raph did to Gabriel, actually. Huh. Both sides ... doing bad things, doing outright horrible things, mostly because they feel they have to, that it needs to be done, and all of them lying to themselves that it's not wrong at all, that it's mercy or justice or simple necessity ... Doesn't really matter what side of the war you're on, there's not a lot in the way of right going around -_-;]
The angel stared at him, comprehension rising, fear bubbling up through him. Fear. Pain. Horror. Each expression delicious, perfect. Beautiful. The angel looked at him, and understood. "You ... You took my memories," he whispered, low and shocked. "That's why ... that's why I can't ... Heaven, my name ... none of it." [*snuggles Crowley desperately* Nothing left, nothing of who he might have been, who he might have known, nothing of the good times before the war, no idea why it was done to him ... Lucifer is a bastard, have I mentioned this? And entirely too happy about Crowley's pain]
"I took your pain," Lucifer whispered, gently. "I took it from you, and gave you a purpose. A job. A name. I gave you back everything that He took from you. I gave you your name. Gave it to you, and sent you above. I sent you to fulfil the purpose you were so obviously designed for. My Father, when He questioned you, when He understood your answer ... He knew what you would become. He always knew. That's why He struck you down. Not for questioning, not for rebelling. But for understanding. For realising what the humans were." [I broke you, I remade you, I shaped you to my will, and you are NOT questioning me the way you questioned my Father! You will remembered His betrayal, and not mine, because right now I need you, and I will HAVE you!]
His voice rose, gained vehemence, as he stepped forward, as he reached the edge of the boundary of flame and trapped the imprisoned angel all over again, in his gaze, in his voice, in his zeal. [Because Lucifer, as opposed to Satan, is not a Trickster or a Tempter or the whispering voice of sin. Lucifer is a zealot, and a visionary, and he swayed half of Heaven to his cause before he was done. He swayed the human demons like Meg. He's a zealot, and it's the sheer force of his personality that makes him dangerous] "He struck you down," he whispered, sibilantly, powerfully. "He cut you off, cast you down, threw you into the Pit. Not for any crime. Not for any sin. But because you were more useful as a demon. He tortured you, betrayed you, threw you away, because He wanted to use you. Because He wanted you to show them, those creatures, those mudmen, their little choice. He wanted you to be what you've become. He sacrificed all that you were, all that you could have been, took away your every choice, just so He could give them one more gift. Just so He favour them that little bit more. He betrayed you. Don't you see that?" [And in this at least, he is not wrong. It's filtered through his viewpoint and his bitterness and his biases, but factually, and from Crowley's POV, he is not. Wrong. Again. That is the very, very dangerous thing about him. As with Nick. What he says is true, if viewed through a certain lens, and that makes it hard to refute]
The angel shook his head, bewildered, stricken. "I don't ... I don't ... Why? Why are you telling me this? Why now?" [Which is largely a stall, but what the hell are you supposed to say, faced with the Morningstar in full-on declamation mode?]
Lucifer smiled at him sadly, twisting his face into soft pity, moulding it into what was needed. The human face was stiff, damaged, but beneath his will it did as he asked. [Again with Mark Pellegrino. He's really good at playing something that is not,decidedly NOT, human] "I didn't want to. When I sent you above, when I gave you your freedom from the knowledge of what had been done to you ... I expected you to do your job. To do what was right by us. To help me prove to our Father that the humans weren't worth all that He had destroyed for their sake. I expected you to help me. To make sure that they chose the right choice, of the two my Father gave them. I expected you to do what you were designed to do. I expected you to serve." [Everything you believed is a lie, you have been betrayed, but I can offer you another faith. Again. You failed me last time, but I will give you another chance, while you're weak, while you're desperate, and you WILL do what I want you to. Maybe not immediately, maybe not right now, but sooner or later what I have said will poison you, and you will come back to me]
He paused, smiled into golden eyes that widened in comprehension, in sick understanding. He smiled at the once-angel, at the demon. Smiled at what had been, and always would be, his. [*smiles lopsidedly* Crowley. Not any angel. Crowley]
"Crawly. My serpent. My precious serpent. I gave you your name, and your job, and everything you are. And now, I want something back. I want you to put aside these foolish notions you have, that humans are worth something. Worth anything. I want you to stop fighting me. I want you to remember who betrayed you first, remember what was done to you, remember what I gave you to make up for it. I want you to remember what you are. I want you to do your job!"
He stopped, pulled himself back under control, put aside the roar in the face of his captive's terror, and put back on his smile. [He took the betrayal hard. For ... more reasons than one, and I'll explain that soon, in upcoming chapters. Because Lucifer has a reason for that break in control, for that raw fury. Oh, he does have a reason. I'm actually mildly impressed by the control he has to use Crowley, instead of just destroying him]
"I want you to come back," he finished, simply. "I want you back, Crowley. I'm the only one who has ever done right by you. I want you back."
And one way or another, you will come. [Or I will destroy you, and believe me, I will enjoy it!]
***
[The climb of tension, swapping between the two threads ... I don't think I was consciously watching it. But I like this one, between Crowley on the crux of a choice, and the others unaware of the danger they're suddenly all in, asking desperate questions, and just, just starting to understand. I like this switch]
"What happened, Nancy?" Gabriel growled, expression twisting, turning pale. But he knew. They all knew. Before the little Trickster ever said a word. They knew.
"He gave me no choice," Anansi whispered, sadly. "Crowley's been on his shit-list ever since the first apocalypse, and since the incident with the Colt ... He found some of us. Some of Crowley's contacts. He's been rooting us out, trying to close a net on him. Waiting for Crowley to move again. To look for information. Anything. It was just unfortunate that ... Crowley came to me, a couple of hours ago. Looking for access to some of my boys' businesses. Came to me for help. And I ... I had no choice. The bright one threatened my son. He hurt my son." [Anansi is trying to explain. Not excuse, but explain. He does know he was wrong, but he had no choice. The demon was not worth his son]
Sam bit his lip, shaking his head. He backed up a step on autopilot, backed away from the little man and what he was saying. Backed away from what it meant. He bumped into Dean, felt his brother reach out to catch his arm and steady him, met the cold, pained expression in his eyes. Beside him, Cas' face had settled like stone, like granite. [How often has this shit happened to them, by this stage? How many have they lost?]
"Where is he?" Castiel asked, harshly. "Where did you take him?" [Cas is asking the question mostly because Cas has the control to, because Cas gets grim and efficient under pressure. Also scary. Really, really scray]
Anansi looked at them, shaking his head, face crinkled in genuine pain. "I only told the other where to come, and wove ... wove a web to hold Crowley there until he came. Crowley ... he knew. He knew as soon as I moved what had happened. He knew ... he knew what the bright one would have to have done, to make me. He knew. He asked ... he asked me to come here. To tell his angel. He asked me to make sure I was not followed, that no-one else, bright one or otherwise, be able to find you through me. And he asked me to tell you. To tell you ..." [*smiles lopsidedly* Crowley is paranoid as hell, but he knows what drives people to do what they do in extremis. He's been watching it for six thousand years, and he knows. In an odd sort of way, he's one of the most forgiving of them. He'll act in anger or in self-defense, but not in cold vengeance. Not even against the likes of Hastur. He's seen too much for anything else]
Someone made a small sound. A choked, whimpering gasp, a stricken sob. [Oh, Zira! Oh Zira]
As one, all of them turned to Aziraphale.
The angel was looking at Anansi. He was very pale, shaking softly. Gently. His eyes were dry, but suspiciously bright, and his expression for one endless second was nothing but pain, and a deep, etched grief. A quiet horror. Then, by some miracle, Aziraphale shoved it down, shoved it away, and reached out to gently detach Gabriel's hands from Anansi's collar, and free the little god. [*watches him helplessly*]
"I ..." he started, and swallowed. "I'm sorry that you've been ... that you've been used so, Mr Anansi. I hope ... I hope your boys are alright, that you get them back. And ... thank you, very much, for bringing me his message. I know it was a risk. Thank you." [That there? That? That is why I love Aziraphale. That is why I adore that angel. *blubbers*]
They stared at him. All of them. Sam could feel something climbing his throat, could distantly feel the burning behind his eyes. Aziraphale tried a wobbly smile, reaching out to catch Anansi's hand gently.
"Is he ..." he asked, voice breaking before he caught it. "Do you know ... Is he ...?" [...]
Anansi shook his head, a depthless sorrow in his eyes, a grieving pity. "I don't think so," he said, with forced strength, but maybe ... maybe there was a glimmer of genuine conviction there too. "He's too damn useful to get rid of, that one. Too damn sly to let himself be gotten rid of. You trust me on that. The bright one ... he may be terrible, but he has needs, up here. Needs your demon can play on. None better. Trust me. He'll not fall until he's ready, that one." [I think he really is hoping, here. Hoping he hasn't just killed the demon. Not just in fear, but ... Well, after a while, you start getting attached to Crowley]
Aziraphale gave him another wobbly smile, pulling himself together with a visible effort. "Yes," he murmured, absently. "I'm sure you're right. I'm sure ..." [Aziraphale has been in England a long time. Stiff upper lip ...]
"We have to find him!" Sam spoke up, flinching a little as everyone looked at him, but determined nonetheless. Crowley hadn't betrayed them. The demon, this demon, hadn't betrayed them. Instead, he'd been betrayed, and Sam ... couldn't let that lie. Couldn't let it go. [*smiles a little bit* We abominations have to stand up for each other, sometimes]
Couldn't bear the look in Aziraphale's face. [...]
"I agree," Castiel said quietly. "I have been a prisoner of Lucifer myself, and he did not kill me. There is every chance that the Spider is right, and Crowley is still alive. If that is the case ... we must find him, and help him." Their angel stood stiff and firm, his eyes fixed firmly on Aziraphale's face, and Sam thought he might be attempting to look reassuring, in that very grim, Cas-like way of his. [*smiles lopsidedly at him* Oh, Cas, seriously, never change]
"No arguments here," Dean growled. "Sonofabitch might be a slimy little bastard, but we're not leaving him to be Devil-chow. We're not leaving anyone to be Devil-chow!" [I love that about Dean. He's almost ... Granny Weatherwax-ish, in that way. It doesn't matter who or what you are, if you're his, nobody gets to take you on his watch]
Aziraphale stared at them, blinked furiously, wringing his hands in confusion. "You don't ... you don't have to. We said ... Crowley and I, we said we'd look out for you. You don't have to risk yourselves ..." [The Arrangement goes both ways between him and his demon, but they've been six thousand years on their own in what amounts to enemy or neutral territory, and he's not used to this group thing]
"Shut up, Aziraphale." [Not nice about it, but Gabriel isn't often nice anyway, and he's pissed off, now] And that was Gabriel. The archangel, who'd been silent for a long time, staring at the hand Aziraphale had pried from the Spider's neck, looked up now, and his expression ... his expression was terrible. Cold. Implacable. Sam, who remembered that face from only an hour ago, who remembered it warm and laughing and sad and playful, who remembered it leaning close to lick at his lips and grin into his moan, almost shuddered. This was not the Trickster. This wasn't even Gabriel, not his Gabriel, not their Gabriel. This was someone ... older. Harder. This was someone who'd fought wars, once, someone who'd done terrible, terrible things in his Father's name, in His service. This was the archangel. [He's mellowed now, after so long in disguise and away from Heaven, but biblically Gabriel was not exactly a lightweight. Archangel can kick ass, if he feels like it]
Aziraphale shut up. [Well, you would]
"Too far," Gabriel whispered, almost below hearing. "Too far, brother. That one is mine. I don't care if you had him once. He's mine, I stole him, and you don't ever get him back. You don't get to take what's mine." His eyes flashed up, briefly, met Sam's, something rich and dark and fiercely possessive in them. Something powerful. [Gabriel has more or less had it up to here with those assholes, with Lucifer and Michael taking what's his, and breaking what's his, and destroying everything that matters to him, and he's pissed off, this time]
"I can find him," Gabriel said, cold as void. "Not Crowley. My brother. I can find him. I can always find him." He turned, looked at Castiel, shaking with power. "And you can find me. Lucifer can hide Crowley. He can't hide me. You can follow me, once I've found them. You can find me." [Looks to Cas, because he knows Cas is in the frame of mind to follow through right now. Castiel is very good at following through]
Castiel nodded slowly, grimly. "Yes," he said. Simply. Flatly. Implicit agreement, instant trust. Yes. That simple. [I love Castiel's approach to battle, to danger, to his charges. Even at his most fallen, Castiel never stood down from the fight. Never backed away. *grins fiercely* I do love that about him]
"And us," Dean said, stepping up beside his angel, one hand landing on Cas' shoulder. Immovable. Together. A unit, whole and complete, and then Dean reached out to rest his other hand on Sam. Team Free Will. And Sam, for his part, caught Gabriel's arm, ignoring the jolt of almost shock from the archangel, tugging him in, making him part of it, while Castiel reached out, far more gently, and brought Aziraphale forward. "We're not leaving anyone behind. Not this time." [*grins some more* Misfit mobilisation moment, yes. Lucifer, that may have been a mistake, on your part]
Not this time.
Gabriel smiled at them, fierce and cruel and proud, just for a second. "Then be ready," he whispered. "Be ready." And then ... he vanished. In an instant, there and gone again, and all that showed his passing was the silent beat of massive, innumerable wings. The Messenger, the Trickster. Hunting. [Tricksters are not nice, often. Archangels are not nice, hardly ever. And when either is angry, it's usually time to run]
Aziraphale stared after him, white and trembling, leaning into Castiel, and beneath the fear and grief in his eyes there was an echo of Gabriel's fury. Slow and deep, banked inside him. Sam remembered Zachariah, remembered the warehouse, remembered the calm, quiet planning this angel was capable of. He remembered the gleam in Castiel's eyes as he plotted with Crowley, remembered the almost-glee of it. He remembered that. [Mind you, most angels, even Southern Pansies and almost-faded angels, are not for messing with]
And he remembered the look on Dean's face when the Devil simply stood back up after being shot with the Colt. He remembered Carthage, and Jo and Ellen. He remembered demons slaughtered simply because it was convenient, and a town laid to waste simply because the Devil wanted it so. He remembered the quiet, reasonable sound of Lucifer's voice, and the implacable malice that lurked underneath it. [The question is, though ... can it be enough? They've lost so much already. Can it be enough?]
He remembered all that, and thought of Crowley. Thought of the demon prisoner to it.
He remembered that, and hoped they'd be in time. Hoped they'd be able to do something even if they were. [And Sam ... well, Sam isn't the optimistic type, anymore]
***
[And after that build-up, and before next chapter's adrenalin rush ... something quieter. Something small and quiet and despairing, to finish us out]
Crowley looked at him for a long moment, a pantomime of expression pouring across his face, a strange delight for Lucifer to taste. To admire. Crowley looked at him, fear and confusion first, melting to pain, to calculation, to fear again, to incredulity, to disgust, to pain again, and then ... then to something else. Something different. Something Lucifer had never, ever wanted to see, not on any face, not ever again. Something he had seen only once before, on his Father's face, just before the Fall. Something loathsome.
Pity. [Lucifer is an angel of pride, after all]
"You great pillock," Crowley sighed, swinging his hands, crouching down inside his prison as if to lessen the target he presented, but there was no hesitation in him, and what fear was there was tamped down, held in check, and over it ... only pity. "You great bloody pillock. All this bloody time, and you never got it, did you? You never got it." [Lucifer may be Heaven's greatest zealot, may have pulled half of Heaven down with the force of his rhetoric and his personality, but Crowley didn't fall so much as wander vaguely downwards. Crowley didn't fall for it the first time, and he's spent 6000 years since then listening to every human zealot try the same trick, and by this stage Lot's wife has got nothing on the amount of salt with which Crowley takes things]
"What are you talking about?" he growled, dangerously, a whipcrack of power. Crowley flinched, but didn't stop.
"You think this is about betrayal?" he said, very quietly. "You think this is about who hurt me first, or most, or at all? You think this is about humanity?" [Well, it is, but not in terms of who's right or who's wrong. He's just fond enough of them not to want to see them wiped out] He smiled lopsidedly, shook his head. "I don't care about that. I don't care. I don't give a flying fuck what Daddy did to me, way back when. I don't care who betrayed me. I'm a fucking demon! Hello? Betrayal's the name of the bloody game! I'm not picking sides based on shit like that." [A pragmatist of the first order, is our Crowley]
Lucifer glared at him coldly. "Oh? And what are you picking sides for, then?"
Crowley stood, slowly, fluidly, the serpent never more clear in his features, the venom never more clear in his voice. "I'm choosing the side that lets me keep what matters to me," he hissed, slow and deadly. [In order, Aziraphale, survival, family and the world. Possibly negotiable on that last one] "I'm choosing the side that letsss me have my world, and my friendsss, and my angel. I'm choosssing the ssside that isn't trying to fucking kill what matters to me! And that side? Is not bloody yourssss!"
He smirked, terrified and fierce, shaking to his bones, pointing a trembling finger in Lucifer's face. "Sssso you ... You can go fuck yourself, if it's all the sssame to you." [*smiles fiercely at him* Oh, Crowley]
The Devil stared. For a long, long time.
And then, he raised his hand. [*grimaces ruefully* Crowley. Why do you always decide to be brave and principled right when it'll get you killed?]
[And then next chapter it all goes to hell. Rather spectacularly. *grins*]
[End]
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