The Known/Unknown Quantity

Chapter 135: Absent Fathers

Chapter 135: Absent Fathers

It was hard to tell how much of the whole story everyone glibbed. There was no time for discussion. The cottage slept, but for an angel and a demon and a dom.

                And then, Shadwell.

                Since August, his night filled with dreams. It was odd for someone unused to them. He was keeping a journal, though often they vanished before he could jot them down. This happened tonight, and though he swore at being woken, he tried to write it down, then growled and tossed the journal hopelessly on the nightstand.

                Beside him Tracy slept like the dead. He patted her head and she purred. "Sweet Jezzie," he smiled tiredly. Couldn't call her Marjorie yet. Not sure what the hell had brought that up.

                Sighing, he eased himself stiffly off the bed and threw on a tattered robe, then made his way to Crowley's room. Easing the creaking door open, he witnessed Crowley and Olivia whispering to each other. There was no sign of the angel.

                "Where is he?" Shadwell griped, wiping his eyes.

                "We let him go," Olivia explained. Crowley turned away, and inward.

                "Ye can't do that!" Shadwell stepped into the room. "Did ye have leave of ye senses at last? He can't be by himself!"

                "He can. He must," Crowley growled low.

                "How can ye say that! What about the shifts!"

                Crowley tapped his chest. Shadwell fumed and rose his shoulders around his head. "You love him so much! How can ye just—"

                "You don't get it, do you!" Crowley nearly roared, sitting forward on the bed. "He's just found out that Jinny is his! HIS! And she came to us! And we lost her, again! How the hell do you think he feels right now!"

                "A bit down, I supposed," Shadwell muttered, stunned. Then," How, are you?"

                Crowley didn't answer. Olivia replied," Dealing. But the angel needs to be alone right now. He is safe enough."

                "He'll shift."

                "I know," Crowley moaned. And then softer, almost hopelessly, "I know. But he needs to be alone. I know Aziraphale. He needs time to absorb all this. He may even make the time. But he's strong enough now. I can feel it. But.... he's in a place.... I can't reach him."

                "I can," Shadwell blurted, thumbing his robe.

                "Don't say I didn't warn you." But Crowley heard the tone in the witch finder's voice. Despite himself, his eyebrow rose in surprise. "You think you can?"

                "Aye. Have you warded him?"

                "Least I could do," Crowley fell back to the pillows. "Leaving him alone was the most."

                "It pains you."

                "Like a knife through the heart. But it's whot he asked for, whot he requires. I love him. I know him."

                "I'll leave him be if he wants," Shadwell offered, leaving the room. "But I'm gonna try, either way."

Shadwell's tracking instincts came back, and he followed a trail into the woods. What he found was a near reflection of himself at his worst.