Spn Imagines

Crowley 5, 8/?

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/S/C) = Your Skin Color

(Y/H/C) = Your Hair Color

(Y/E/C) = Your Hair Color

Imagine Crowley saving the reader after some of his demons attack him/her/them, continued once again

You sit in the corner, absolutely miserable with tissues on your right and a bucket on the left. You enter another coughing fit, and then you cuss wildly before retching again. By now you're just dry heaving, because you never have a spare moment to tell the archangels what you can and can't eat. You know that there are saltine crackers somewhere nearby, and a bottle of sprite somewhere close to it, but you have no idea where the hell they went. You may have accidentally launched them off to fucking Narnia when you threw off your blankets to actually throw up.

"What do we do?" You hear Michael whisper to Lucifer. You scowl as you feel their eyes watching you.

"I don't know." Lucifer replies, sounding a lot calmer. He's probably reading a book or something. Ever since you arrived the archangels have been getting stronger and stronger. Who knows, maybe they'll eventually be able to bust out.

"Will he/she/they die?" Michael asks again, sounding even more worried. Lucifer sighs heavily through his nose.

"No."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because he/she/they would have said by now, "Lucifer, Michael, this is going to actually, legitimately kill me." Or something along those lines. Not sure he/she/they can get out a sentence that long. Maybe just death."

"She's/He's/They've said that."

"Not literally." Lucifer sounds like he's about to beat the shit out of Michael. Good to know you're not alone on that.

"How would you know?"

"Shut the hell up, I'm trying to sleep." You finally snap, cursing as you actually throw up again. You scowl and wipe your mouth with the wet rag Lucifer tosses to you. You weakly toss it back, but it disappears before it hits the ground.

"See? He's/She's/They're fine." Lucifer mumbles around what's probably a cigar or cigarette. Michael makes an angry sound before turning around and stomping to the other couch. Lucifer pats your leg soothingly before returning to his book.

***

"What the hell is/are he/she/they still doing in there?!" Crowley snaps at one of his most loyal demons.

"My lord, please. The archangels have gotten too powerful. We're unable to get (Y/N) out, we can't even get in. Sooner or later they'll be able to break out of the cage." The demon informs Crowley, watching the King of Hell with weary black eyes. Crowley screams in rage and throws a vase across the room.

"You get (Y/N) out of there or so help me your's will be the next skin hanging from my coat rack!" Crowley screams. The demon nods quickly and teleports out of the room quickly, barely escaping a flying chair.