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he knew one day, things would catch up to them. It was inevitable. Heaven and hell could only be placated for so long, and while their stunt bought them time, it wasn't the get out of jail free card they liked to pretend it was.
He just wasn't excepting them to try holy water again.
after all, Micheal had brought the water themselves. she had to know there was no trick there.
still, Crowley found himself grappling with Sandelphon in a deserted park, Aziraphale already bludgeoned unconscious by a three-on-one attack that had blindsided them both.
small bit of luck, thought Crowley, that at least Aziraphale wasn't being made to watch.
he did find it odd that this time around, Micheal was not only leading the charge, but that Gabriel was absent compelety. he would of figured this would have been right up the bastards alley.
instead, Sandelphon was trying to put Crowley in a headlock; if Aziraphale wasn't laying to vulnerable off to the side, crolwey's of snaked away. instead he was still frantically trying to find a way to get them both out of this.
Uriel had grabbed his legs at this pint, and the two carried his, hissing and snarling, over to the park's fountain, which Micheal was already standing in.
the forced him down int he water, holding him under, as Micheal began to bless the water with him in in. a baptism of the most holy order.
his biggest regret is that he couldn't see his angel anymore, only stone and water, and the distorted archangels holding him under. the water warmed, and started to roll above him.
this was it.
the end.
it was a good run. better then they'd honestly expected.
... but...
but while his lungs burned from lack of air (not that it was necessary) the water started to feel.. cold..
like a damp washcloth on a fever. it wasn't ... it didn't hurt. he wasn't struck by the impulse to scream, or even flail anymore.
it kinds felt... nice. like.. how had he never noticed how warm he had been. truthfully, he always thought he'd been running a bit col. but this. this felt..
heavenly.
He just wasn't excepting them to try holy water again.
after all, Micheal had brought the water themselves. she had to know there was no trick there.
still, Crowley found himself grappling with Sandelphon in a deserted park, Aziraphale already bludgeoned unconscious by a three-on-one attack that had blindsided them both.
small bit of luck, thought Crowley, that at least Aziraphale wasn't being made to watch.
he did find it odd that this time around, Micheal was not only leading the charge, but that Gabriel was absent compelety. he would of figured this would have been right up the bastards alley.
instead, Sandelphon was trying to put Crowley in a headlock; if Aziraphale wasn't laying to vulnerable off to the side, crolwey's of snaked away. instead he was still frantically trying to find a way to get them both out of this.
Uriel had grabbed his legs at this pint, and the two carried his, hissing and snarling, over to the park's fountain, which Micheal was already standing in.
the forced him down int he water, holding him under, as Micheal began to bless the water with him in in. a baptism of the most holy order.
his biggest regret is that he couldn't see his angel anymore, only stone and water, and the distorted archangels holding him under. the water warmed, and started to roll above him.
this was it.
the end.
it was a good run. better then they'd honestly expected.
... but...
but while his lungs burned from lack of air (not that it was necessary) the water started to feel.. cold..
like a damp washcloth on a fever. it wasn't ... it didn't hurt. he wasn't struck by the impulse to scream, or even flail anymore.
it kinds felt... nice. like.. how had he never noticed how warm he had been. truthfully, he always thought he'd been running a bit col. but this. this felt..
heavenly.
