networkinthenight | audio / @hello / open

Hello, um, everyone. This is Aziraphale. I know I haven't met all of you, but I have gotten to know a good number of you as of late, and I've come to like you all a great deal, so it doesn't sit quite right with me not to apologize for recent events.

The sinking of the ferry was inexcusable. Our-- my failure, was a direct result of poor planning and lack of transparency, but I do need all of you to know that the intention had been to find our only way out of Beacon as other methods had been exhausted, and it was always in the plan to make subsequent trips for everyone remaining who wished a return home.

But I know that no amount of good intention will bring it back, nor heal your injuries, nor surface the supplies it was carrying. For all this, I am deeply and terribly sorry; this was, in no way, how I should have repaid all your kindnesses. I understand your anger, and you can direct it at me, if you would like, if you have need of a place to focus your ire.

However, I am afraid, actually, that I must ask a favor. I have, though not for lack of trying, not been able to retrieve much of the sunken raw material - if anyone should lend abilities, magical or otherwise, to help in the rebuilding of the ferry or the docks, you will have my deepest gratitude, for whatever that is worth.

I will try to assist with this as much as I possibly can, and otherwise will be available to assist those who require healing, though my ability to do so has been stunted.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For you, maybe.

[He can't imagine not having conversations like this, not having time with Aziraphale. What would happen if one of them were to die of old age first? If he were to suddenly exist in this world without Aziraphale in it? Old and alone?

The thought makes him hurt.]

Do you want to drink? I think we should drink.

No, dear, I think you've had quite enough to drink.

[ He means it. But-- ]

--Besides, I had a favor to ask you.

Anything.

[He means it, as well. He always does.]

I rather think I need my wings pruned...

[Crowley gives him a small, fond smile]

All right, angel. Spread them out, I'll take care of them for you.

[ With a rustling, he extends his wings in the small room.

They are actually a huge mess, extremely uncared-for, particularly as of late. ]

[Crowley reaches up, giving one side a brush with his hand. He makes a tsk tsk noise with his tongue.]

Because of your arm? Haven't been able to reach back here?

No. I honestly just never do it.

[ He shakes the wings, and so many feathers just fall out. ]

[He lets out a fond sigh. If that isn't Aziraphale, he doesn't know what is.

Crowley brushes his hands through the feathers, gently removing some of the looser ones, straightening out the ones that need it]

Can't be comfortable for you.

Well, I just never find the time!

I don't know how you do it.

[ He could look up from his books and realize that decades have gone past. ]

I just make the time for it, angel.

[He looks down at one of the angel's feathers on the couch next to himself and thinks about the one Xayah has of her lover that she keeps with her. He slips one of Aziraphale's feathers into his pocket and resumes grooming him.]

If you want, I could always do it for you.

Oh. Could you?

[ He brightens at that.

That does make him feel much better after a draining day, and honestly, a very draining week. ]

Of course. I'll groom yours whenever I groom my own.

[He pauses, straightening another feather]

Course...we could always do each others'. Save time that way.

Would you like me to groom yours, Crowley?

[ He could, if Crowley wanted. He does like the inky black. He doesn't like to do this all by himself. ]

Yeah, that'd be good.

[It's a rather intimate gesture, now that Crowley thinks about it. Still he's meticulously plucking out fallen feathers from Aziraphale's wings, he might as well allow Aziraphale to do the same for himself.

He extends his wings as well. They're immaculately groomed, but he's sure Aziraphale could probably find a feather in there that needs clearing out.]

[ He can't, but he might bend some one way just to bend them back the other. And take his time smoothing them out and ruffling the downier ones to look for any loose feathers.

Not a single one falls out. ]

[Meanwhile, Aziraphale's wings are slowly starting to look better, and Crowley has a little pile of feathers by himself.]

Not sure how we made it all those centuries apart from each other.

We'll have to take care not to waste another moment like we have in the past, dear.

[ He finishes with Crowley's wings, and feels a little sad that he doesn't have more to do. ]

[Crowley's hands hesitate over Aziraphale's wings. Crowley has hesitated so much in the past, and he's waited so long---maybe now is the time to not waste another moment, now is the time to---to---

He smooths down Aziraphale's wing.]

Good as new.

[ He gives them a shake, and then looks at them. They're so nice and shiny. ]

Lovely, thank you.

[ He catches Crowley's gaze and -- yes, what was he saying about not wasting another moment? ]

[Crowley stares into the angel's eyes for a long moment----the angel he has adored from the moment he first saw him---and he finds himself holding his breath.

They could age. They could die. They could have only a few years left together before everything is really over. This is both a second and a last chance for them.

He lets his gaze drift down to the angel's lips just for a moment before he lets out his breath.]

Good night, angel.

[ He looks at Crowley and finds his eyes almost sliding closed of their own accord, drifting to his mouth, as he inches closer and-- oh.

He blinks owlishly, and wonders why he feels so disappointed. ]

Right.

Good night, Crowley.

audio / @hello / open

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