Chapter Text
Three weeks later
Crowley leant over the bow of the boat as it pitched back and forth in the swell. His stomach was now empty but the urge to retch was persistent. It had been barely an hour since Ligur and Aziraphale had jumped overboard and swum away, and the deep blue water had gradually turned black with the setting of the sun and the rise of the twin full moons.
He felt a thump on his back as Uriel, the gruff but friendly Versiki sailor, came to stand by him. “It’s good weather.” He said, casting his eyes over the horizon. “An easy swim.”
This was true. It was the spring full moon, the weather was mild. The waves lapping gently against the enormous rocky outcrop behind which the boat was anchored were almost unrecognisable from the white, foaming crests Crowley still sometimes saw in his dreams.
Over the past months, sleeping in Aziraphale’s arms, dreams of being pulled under those relentless black and white monsters had passed. But they had come back to him every night since he and Aziraphale had decided to leave Alfa Senturi. Crowley would surge up from his sleep, gasping for air, feeling the last breath squeeze from his lungs and seeing blood, gleaming black in the moonlight, wash over the deck of a ship. The same ship he stood on how, he realised, looking down at the wooden boards beneath his feet. They had both nearly died on this deck.
And yet here they were, risking their life again, having barely lived.
If Aziraphale didn’t return within two days, the moon boat would have to leave without him. The waters covering the rocks surrounding the island of Alfa Senturi would drop too low for the boat to pass over them safely, even for seasoned sailors who could pick a safe route through the shallow waters in the dark.
And if that happened, Crowley wouldn’t be leaving. If Aziraphale didn’t return, Crowley would jump into the water, to go back to Akesh to bring him back. He would no doubt meet his end on the rocks that had nearly taken him only three months earlier.
Crowley looked down into the water now, black and gleaming as it rose and fell against the bow of the boat. Uriel patted his back.
“He’ll come back. They all will. No need to think about going over just yet.”
Crowley snapped his head up. “How—” Of course, Aziraphale had warned Uriel and Warlock that Crowley would try to go after him. “Don’t you dare try to…”
Uriel interrupted him with a huff of laughter. “I have no intention of trying to stop you. My partner is Saralan, do not forget. I know better than to get between you and your one life business.”
“Did you tell Aziraphale that?”
“Of course.”
“Was he angry?”
Uriel smiled, his black plaits swinging as he shook his head. “No. He wasn’t surprised. He just said he would make sure he came back.”
Crowley gave a grunt and looked back out towards the rocks in the direction of Akesh. He had watched that spot until the outline of Aziraphale and Ligur had disappeared around the edge of the outcrop, one white and one black head, getting smaller and smaller. Now his eyes kept drifting back to the same spot, even though he knew it would be a few hours – at the very least – before their shapes reappeared again.
Again, Uriel seemed to read his mind. “No point standing and staring, they won’t even be at the coast yet. Sit for a while, save your strength.” He turned and left with another heavy pat on Crowley’s shoulder.
Crowley let his knees fold beneath him and he leant against a nest of rope on the deck. The gentle breeze was salty, and the sound of the rhythmic lapping waves could have lulled Crowley to sleep if he hadn’t been so anxious. He closed his eyes and, though he was awake enough to be aware of his surroundings and the two Versiki moving around the deck behind him, he let his mind drift.