Chapter Text
578 A.D., Paris
"You know," Crowley started. "There are better ways of reaching me than this."
Aziraphale fidgeted with his fingers. "Well, messenger pigeons take far too long, and the weather was so horrid anyways, so I thought that this would be fine. I'm sorry."
Crowley sighed and put his hands on his hips as he stared at the summoning circle under him.
"I was in the middle of something, you know. Demonic something's." He replied, and tapped the forcefield around him."Doesn't this tick off heaven? Summoning looks- drastic. Obvious."
"Heaven doesn't care, they use summoning circles for everything." Aziraphale reassured his friend.
"Yeah well- what do you want, Angel?" Crowley tapped his foot on the ground.
"I have some more miracles that need to be attended to, but I can't do them right now."
"Really? A summoning circle for this? They can be really rough to get through, Angel."
Aziraphale sighed. "Yes, I know, and I'm sorry, but it was urgent!" He moved a candle off the circle so that Crowley could step out of it. "Please?"
Crowley looked in Aziraphale's eyes and sighed. "Sure. Why not."
Aziraphale's hands wiggled in excitement, his face gleaming with joy. "Oh, jolly good!"
"But!" Crowley said, putting a finger up. "You owe me."
"Of course, of course, I know what the Arrangement is, my dear!" Aziraphale said, waving a hand, then turned away from the demon, moving around the small room to grab different belongings and putting them in a satchel. "I still owe you for Persia!"
"Right you do. How about lunch?" Crowley offered, and handed him a leather bound book from a desk he walked to, looking at the trinkets around the small space.
Aziraphale looked up at Crowley and smiled softly, taking the book from Crowley's hand, their fingers brushing.
"Anywhere you'd like. On me." Crowley said softly, a smile on his face.
"Wouldn't that be you serving me? I'd hardly call that payback, dear." Aziraphale replied, his crystal blue eyes soft with humor.
Crowley swallowed and shrugged. "I like it. How about it, then?"
Aziraphale smiled and put the book into his satchel finally. "I heard that there's a new seafood restaurant just down the way. To die for, some have said."
"Then we ought to head there, ey?"
"After we're done with these miracles. They only take the day, so we can go tomorrow. Sounds good?"
"Splendid." Crowley replied, and Aziraphale handed him a parcel, no doubt with information on there for the miracle work.
When Aziraphale turned to leave, Crowley paused him.
"Oh, one more thing, Angel!" He said, and the other turned back to Crowley from the door.
"Please, only use the summoning circle for emergencies. It's strenuous."
Aziraphale nodded. "Of course, dear boy! Sorry again!" He said, then walked out the door and left.
Crowley rubbed his hands as he stared at the door where the angel was.
"Four and half thousand years and I still can't deny that angel anything." He sighed, and his cheeks warmed, then his eyebrows scrunched. "How did he get my summoning sigils anyways?"
2023 A.D., Michigan
Crowley looked around the little room in confusion. Just a minute ago, he was in his Bentley, Bicycle Race (on his Velvet Underground cd, since for scientific reasons or another all cd's miraculously turn into Queen's Greatest Hits in his Bentley) playing on the radio, and then he was engulfed in darkness and gloom, and now he's on his ass in a shack somewhere, suddenly very warm. The AC had been on, and this place obviously doesn't have AC or insulation.
He looked around, and his eyes finally landed on the candles around him, sigils drawn on the floor. His eyes narrowed, and he put his finger out, testing the barriers, and sure enough his finger was resisted by an invisible forcefield. Major design flaw, making the summoned trapped in the circle. Made for some stressful situations.
"Crowley?"
Crowley tensed, and turned around, and saw none other than the angel Aziraphale.
His eyes widened. "Aziraphale? What the bloody hell is happening?"
Aziraphale looked exhausted, run ragged, his hair and clothes a mess. His face was tense with fear, and he looked slightly delirious. Any previous anger at seeing the angel quickly dissipated at seeing the angel on his hands and knees. He looked like he was minutes from passing out.
"Aziraphale! Open the circle, let me out!" He said, pressing on the barrier, and Aziraphale quickly pushed the battery-operated candle away, breaking the barrier, and Crowley was instantly by his side, checking his aura and trying to see if his corporation was seriously injured.
He didn't have any physical ailments, it was his divine essence. Whatever Aziraphale had to deal with took copious amounts of ethereal energy, and he was seconds from collapsing.
"Aziraphale, hey hey, look at me," Crowley said, taking the angel's face in one of his hands, the other now laying on his back. "What do you need? What happened?"
"Ho-holy-" he swallowed hard, his mouth dry, and Crowley nodded, taking the hint.
"Where? Do you have any?" He asked, and Aziraphale pointed to a satchel not too far away, and Crowley grabbed it, searching for a bottle.
When he found it, he swallowed thickly but pushed away his fear and opened the bottle of holy water and brought it to Aziraphale's lips, thankfully keeping Crowley's fingers dry.
When Aziraphale had enough of the drink, Aziraphale looked much better, his aura stronger, but he was still weak.
Crowley pushed back the questions he wanted to ask, and saw a bed nearby, and thought that it would be a miracle it was clean and comfortable.
"Okay, Aziraphale, let's get you to bed, you're completely drained." He said, and lifted Aziraphale in his arms, willing his occult power to lift his rigid body. He was trembling.
"Crowley, I-" Aziraphale started, but his words were slurring, and Crowley shushed him.
"Don't speak, all you need to do is get some rest, Angel. We'll talk once you're better." He said, and brought him to the bed, which was, in fact, miraculously clean and comfortable, pillows fluffed and blankets soft.
"It's- it's all in the bag," he rasped, and when he was layed on the bed, his body finally gave out and he fell asleep.
Crowley pushed a strand of his hair from his face, looking at his sickly pale and clammy skin.
"What the hell happened to you, Angel?" He whispered to himself, then looked at the satchel just across the way where the broken circle was.
The holy power coming from the bag made Crowley repulse, and he knew that was bad news.