Work Text:
There's an angel in front of Crowley.
It's been a long time since he last saw any angels. Muriel had come to visit once, but they’d left once they understood that Crowley wasn’t interested in talking.
But this angel is different.
It's not dressed in the blinding white of Heaven, opting instead for soft golds and browns. There's a small smile on its face. The sliver of light coming in through the window gives it a warm, even welcoming glow.
Something glows inside of Crowley, too.
With small, hesitant steps, he approaches it. Yes, it definitely is who he thinks it is.
Still, he can't bring himself to say it.
Something tells him that, if he says the name imprinted, branded forever on his brain, it will all be over. The angel will leave.
All he can manage is a low, broken, “Angel?”
He raises a trembling hand to cup its cheek.
There’s a flash of light. It’s coming from the angel, it’s somehow glowing even more.
Just as Crowley is about to smile, the light is snuffed out. He stares at a dark, empty wall.
Tears burn at his eyes, and he lets them fall.
He is alone again.