The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 20: Getting To Know A Friend Better

Chapter 20: Getting To Know A Friend Better

The angel disappeared. Crowley hollered in shock, started to flail, his wings flapping hard.

He was floating in air. In a brilliant light. With no sign of Aziraphale. But the light warmed him. The light welcomed him. He felt awash in so much love and tenderness his breath caught in his throat.

And then, he knew, with absolute clarity, held within the brilliant embrace of that light," Oh Aziraphale, it's...it's YOU!!!"

Somehow their act of physical love had brought him into the angel's psyche, and it was drawing him further and further in. And he let it, he let himself be drawn into the closest thing, the more preferred thing, to heaven that he had ever known.

And nobody exploded!

Down, down he went, gently drawn into the core of the bright love. He swore to himself, if he melted into it, he didn't care! Let it consume him if it wanted. Let it take all that made him who he was, if that's what it wanted.

But it didn't want that. It wanted to love him. It wanted to draw him closer, and deeper, and show him something within itself.

His feet hit ground. Felt like sand. The place lessened in glow, as if it were inside somewhere. The walls of a cave appeared around him, but blazing still so brightly he had to shade his eyes. And there in a crevasse, an object perched, and hopped about.

He reached out his arm, and felt a rather heavy weight land there, and wrap its clawed feet around his wrist. Gently Crowley drew his hand toward his face.

And there, looking quizzically at him, was a pure white raven.

"Aziraphale," he croaked. The bird cocked its head this way and that, regarding him in turn with each of its crystalline blue eyes.

The light around him dimmed to more tolerable levels, and he could see the bird much clearer now. He just stared at it. Then he began to laugh hard, the bird flapping its wings to keep balance with his jerky movements.

"It makes fucking sense now! Fucking clever little bastard. Wa-oop!" He swung his arm, this way and that, playing with the raven's balance, watching him flap. It cawed at him, and even that was fussy. He laughed harder. "Oh, look at you, you beautiful thing! This is the kind of bird that never comes back to the ark!"

But at those words, the raven met his eye glaring. Then it opened its wings wide and pushed down, and flew away. Crowley was left aghast. "Wait! Wait, Aziraphale, it was a joke! I didn't mean it!"

The light came back, and with it, soft cawing.

..............................................................."Crowley?"

If the angel hadn't known better, he'd think he was discorporated. He seemed to float; his body weightless. The walls of his bedroom came into view, unreal to him. His heart beat thudded, his blood rushed in his veins, in a distant way. But then, he reached out for the demon, and couldn't feel his body, and its absence alone was the thing that had him grounded so firmly it was like a stake thru his chest.

"Crowley!"

He sat up, his body so heavy. Pulling himself up and over the bedside, setting his leaden feet down on the floor, he felt as if everything remained stagnant, so rock hard, so fucking real. All for the absence of his demon.

He shuffled against gravity. "Crowley, answer me! I can't find you." His arms went out and he stumbled to the door.

His ear pricked with a muffled call. "Downstairs." It was dull as a thudding rock in mud.