middaeg | (catch-all)(closed) the days don't stop coming

( it would have been fine if crowley had wanted to linger for a little longer. actually, aziraphale would have preferred that he did, but he supposes that this is the more correct course of action.

no sense in dawdling any longer after all.

the next step is to open up the cabinet doors underneath the sink to retrieve the first aid kit that been stashed there beside the cleaning supplies. he had originally thought it would come in handy for a very different reason than this and yet now was the first time he was opening it. for crowley's sake. for a wound he'd put on him. he feels a little queasy at the thought.

placing it on the floor by crowley's feet, he then moves to finally properly inspect the wound left on crowley's shoulder. he's already seen it a little, but not underneath proper lighting and without having his face nearly mashed against it. he tugs at crowley's collar, pulling it aside for a better view.

it's. . . it's bad. not horrible. not as gruesome as it could be, but still bad nonetheless.

his face scrunches up. )

We ought to take you to someone first thing in the morning. It looks like it'll scar.

( his voice trembles, unable to keep the concern out of it.

he'd like to take him now, but it's too late for that. possibly too dangerous as well. all he could do for the moment was clean it and bandage it up. )

Yeah? Never had a proper scar before.

[ He lifts a hand and gently rests is on Aziraphale's arm, squeezes it in reassurance. ]

Think scars are meant to be cool now. Might be a good look.

[ Is that reassuring? He's not sure, but he's trying. He's trying.

It's true, anyway. Scars are meant to be cool. That, and... well. If it's Aziraphale that's given it to him, he doesn't mind. ]

( oh, that is certainly not helping.

aziraphale does at least understand the intent and that crowley is trying to lighten up the situation, but there was probably nothing that he could say that would stop aziraphale from feeling like he was going to crawl out of his skin. without any anger to blur the feeling, it's all that he can think about. )

Let's not make it a first then!

( please.

he lets out a sigh as he turns away to repick up the kit he had placed on the floor. he lifts it up to set it against the sink, immediately rifling through it to find what he needs. he hadn't treated any human wounds in a number of years, but he imagines he still remembers the gist of it.

applying some alcohol to gauze, he looks back at crowley again. )

This is going to hurt as well.

( since he was effectively human and all. )

[ It is going to hurt, and Crowley is going to complain about it, but in reality he'd much rather it hurt than die.

It doesn't stop him flinching, however, when the alcohol is touched to his neck.

He hisses, hand snapping out to latch onto Aziraphale's arm again and squeezing it. ]

Bedside manner could use some work.

[ He's just saying. ]

( more than just saying. the remark gives aziraphale some pause, immediately reconsidering the way he's going about this. he's rushing it, isn't he? he's so eager to just go ahead and get this done before any more time passes because he's so afraid of what may happen or that crowley might reconsider that he isn't minding himself.

that didn't mean he needed to be rough about it. he should probably be a little more gentle with crowley. )

I'm sorry. Please bear with it.

( for just a little longer as he presses the gauze against the wound, trying to let the alcohol soak in. he tosses it shortly afterwards, dropping it into the wastebin, before applying some ointment. new gauze is placed on top of it and then taped over to keep it in place. it should be enough until tomorrow morning.

hopefully. ideally.

he lets his hand fall to crowley's hair afterwards, softly petting through the red strands in hopes of comforting him. )

I'll go with you tomorrow to have you looked at.

[ The request to bear it silences Crowley, renders his reactions nothing more than hisses of discomfort here and there. He's tolerating well, because he's been asked to do so gently. It works wonders for compliance, much better than anything else.

As does the touch to his hair.

He melts into Aziraphale, craving the comfort -- one hand dropping from where it gripped at him to loosely slide around his waist. ]

I'll be fine, angel. You taped me up good and proper.

[ His face buries into Aziraphale's clothing a moment, half-muffling his words. It feels... nice. It feels nice. ]

( it feels like a small blessing that crowley is willing to withstand the treatment. rather admirable, really, when he could have kicked up such a huge fuss about it. crowley did love kicking up a fuss when the opportunity presented itself. the downside to it was that it just made aziraphale feel all the more apologetic about what he had done to him.

even with someone else taking care of it, he still might be damned to a permanent impression of aziraphale's teeth on his skin. )

Didn't you only just say that we were going to look out for one another? I'll take you tomorrow morning.

( it was only right.

he needed to take care of it. just as he felt he needed to soothe crowley now. his now free arm winds its way around crowley's shoulder, holding him against his chest in a gentle hug. at the very least, it makes aziraphale feel better. it feels better to hold him close rather than not. )

We can find somewhere to have a nice breakfast afterwards.

Sounds nice.

[ Having breakfast somewhere, together.

This is nice too, though, this embrace. It's nice. Crowley breathes it in a few moments, enjoying the closeness. The gentle touch. He could stay like this a very long time, given the opportunity. Could fall asleep very comfortably this way.

He can't, though. not yet.

Crowley draws back a fraction, vivid eyes pinning Aziraphale. ]

Let me see?

[ Let him get up, swap places so he can inspect Aziraphale's injuries. Let him clean them up a little, if need be, make sure everything is good. ]

( a very real part of aziraphale had been hoping that crowley would not acknowledge the other end of their arrangement for a little while longer. not just for the sake of his nerves, but also so that the both of them could linger right where they were for more than a moment of two.

he felt better while holding crowley.

less so when he was staring up at him with intent. aziraphale lets out a soft sigh before unravelling himself from him, moving to take a few steps back so that crowley might have room to actually get up. it wasn't as if the bathroom was very large. )

Right, yes. If you'll—

( he makes a loose gesture even if only to make it clear that he's honouring his word. )

[ Crowley climbs to his feet once he has the space, moving to let Aziraphale sit down and then rummaging in the first aid kit.

It's not exactly an area of expertise for him, but he knows roughly what he's doing. ]

Stay still.

[ No squirming, if at all possible. His fingers gently comb through white hair, trying to move it around enough that he can see exactly how sore things are. Exactly how much blood is fresh, how much is drying, and if it needs more than just a little clean-up.

He tries not to touch the ears. Not yet. ]

( the crown of aziraphale's head is messy from the earlier transformation. the strands of hair around his new ears are varying colours of red, a mixture of blood that had already dried and what was still fresh. it seems to look worse than it actually is. while the skin around his ears was still inflamed and sore, the wounds around the base of the ears were fairly thin. almost as if it had already healed over itself some.

he mostly needed a wash.

aziraphale already knew that part, however he had already resigned himself to letting crowley look as much as he wanted. although, he does wonder if he should expect an examination of his back to see around the tail as well. )

What do you see?

( because he still needs to ask. in case he's wrong and he just can't feel how bad it actually is. )

Probably need to wash this off a little to get a good look.

[ Just in case the dried blood is hiding something. He presses his lips together, unhappy, then leans over to grab up a cloth. ]

I'll be careful.

[ A reassurance, even though that's a given. Aziraphale is nervous. Crowley just wants to help, truly. He wets the cloth with warm water, glancing over for signs of protest. Perhaps he might dislike the idea of Crowley doing this, after all, might feel it's somehow too far over his comfort line. ]

( this entire thing is over aziraphale's comfort line, but he is enduring it nonetheless. there are no signs of protest to be read from either his face or his body language, nothing more than resigned acceptance. this is going to happen, it is going to happen now, and he has agreed to it for the sake of everyone's piece of mind. )

Do as you need.

( he remarks, fingers curling into the material of his night pants. )

Just tell me before you disinfect anything.

( he doesn't want to be surprised by anything. he's not sure what may happen if he is. he's already seen that he could bite underneath duress. he doesn't need to find out how else he might react. )

'Course, angel.

[ He slips to stand to one side, begins gently wetting reddened patches of hair with warm water.

His hands are quaking a little.

Absently, Crowley realises he isn't sure why. Adrenaline? Fear response? Exhaustion? Stress? Something else?

He stops, swallows and lets one hand slide down Aziraphale's side, drifts it to cover a set of fingers latched into his night shirt. ]

Does it still hurt?

No, no. It's fine.

( the answer probably comes a little too quickly to be believable, but it is true. there's something of a dull ache around his head and his back, but nothing that he would classify as hurting. just present, just a lingering feeling to remind him of the way his body is slowly becoming something foul.

crowley, however, seems to be a little worse off. he doesn't seem steady now that he's on his feet and there is a tremble to the hand that he places over his own. had he missed it until now? was it because of him? )

Are you. . . Are you alright?

( he unhooks his fingers from his pants, turning his hand over to gently hold crowley's hand in his. )

[ Is he alright?

In what world is any of this alright? ]

We're both bleeding, angel. Not really alright, is it?

[ Nnngh. All of this is too much. Far too much. He squeezes the hand holding his, frowns at the red patches of hair as if they're making him cross. They are. He wants to fix them. ]

No.

( it's not. he knows that it isn't, but he would like for it to be or at least one of them to be some semblance of alright. it's already been a long and stressful night and they both had to live with the reality of what had happened earlier.

his fingers tighten around crowley's hand as he moves to look up at him. )

I'm sorry.

( because he still needs to say it once more. )

Don't apologise. Not your fault.

[ Not really. He'd been angry, of course, but it was anger borne of frustration. Frustration because he wanted help. Help he'd wanted to give because he cared.

All really came back to that, didn't it. ]

I know it's a bloody stupid place, and I know this is bad, but --

[ Ugh. He's not built for expressing this stuff. Crowley wets his lips nervously, squeezes Aziraphale's hand to try and reassure them both again. ]

Don't push me away, Aziraphale. I want us to do this together, yeah? To be together. All we've got is each other. Always been like that. We're better together, you and me.

( it's not the pressure of crowley's fingers around his that helps ease some of the tension laced tightly in aziraphale's bones, but the simple statements he makes about wanting to remain together. don't push me away, he says despite the obvious wound on his shoulder from earlier. both of them knew that it wasn't impossible for it to happen again, that he might very well bite crowley again or perhaps worse and yet still.

still crowley has the nerve to say things like this.

one of his ear flicks as aziraphale tries to find the words to answer him. )

I—

( he begins, quickly growing quiet again. his grip on crowley's hand tightens a little further, nearly clutching at him. )

Yes. I do want you here. I do, Crowley. I would rather us be together and remain together. I have always thought it a blessing that we have at least been able to live together here.

( he means that. he has failed to say as much, but he has truly been grateful for the opportunity to be as close to crowley as he has been lately. it's been a nice experience to live in the same home, to know that they'd return to the same place each night, and to be able to so generously spend time together.

the catch, of course, is that he is becoming a monster. it scares aziraphale, especially now when he's already crossed a line.

he reaches out with his other hand, placing his palm against the minute curve of crowley's shoulder. )

I just don't want to hurt you any further.

( he can't live with it. )

I know, love. I know you don't.

[ Want to hurt him, that is. ]

We'll work it out, you and me. Read some more books on this. Lots of books in this place, bound to be something yeah? Maybe -- maybe we just need to be bonded longer, or do something to make the bond a little stronger or something. Maybe I need to do something. Not been very good at the whole witch thing, if I'm honest. Should probably try a little harder. Maybe it'd help, if I did. Maybe it'd help you.

[ Guilt gnaws at him. The idea that if he'd been better then Aziraphale might not be suffering is... intolerable. It's intolerable. ]

Crowley—

( oh.

oh, that's heartbreaking. his hand squeezes along crowley's shoulder, hoping to offer him some measure of comfort. he doesn't want him to think that way, that this is somehow his fault in the end.

his expression tightens. )

What do you expect for a stronger bond to be able to do for me? Or learning more magic?

( did he think that any of those things could help stay what is happening to him? aziraphale already knows that it wouldn't, that there is nothing that he could do to delay or prevent it. as long as they are here, in this place, it is only going to keep happening. the passing days and the full moon will only bring new changes.

until it's over. )

This cannot be fixed.

It can. You're frightened of hurting me, yeah? Well the bond is meant to help with control. That's how it works. Keeps you from going feral. So maybe if I'd done this sooner, or better, you'd feel calmer.

[ There's a stubborn note to that. Crowley is stubbornly determined to accept a degree of fault in this, and he won't have it brushed away. Just because Aziraphale hurt him and felt guilty about it doesn't mean he can shoulder all the blame on his own! ]

( whatever impression crowley has in his head is entirely wrong. the person who had failed to promptly establish a bond had been aziraphale, who had spent far too much time being indecisive about what familiars he should choose. crowley wasn't a part of the equation until he put himself there.

he lets out a quiet breath. he thinks he should correct him, but decides it doesn't matter as much as the other point he brought up. )

Better? How are you meant to do it any better?

( what else is to be done? improved intimacy? physical closeness? )

[ Supposedly, being tactile does help with the bond.

Crowley is thinking about that as his fingers flex where they're knit with Aziraphale's, thinking about them being closer. Thinking about if Aziraphale would stubbornly object, or if he has to word this in some specific way. If he has to appeal to him on terms of practicality, in case the emotions are off-putting. ]

Aziraphale.

[ Said softly, as patiently as he can -- still tinged with a little frustration. ]

( the most off-putting thing is what is happening between them now. it feels as if there is something hanging in the air between them, something unspoken and irrevocably irritating. crowley seems to be hinged on the idea that he had done something to somehow make this all worse and aziraphale hasn't the faintest idea as to why.

this hardly concerns him at all. )

Come on then. Out with it.

( say whatever it is that's in that head of his. )

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