logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

characters: everyone.
location: around town.
date/time: october 9-17.
content: the hallucinations begin...
warnings: psychological horror. please cw tags appropriately.

it's probably something that shouldn't be said out loud

October 9 feels like a normal day at first, save for the red lighthouse beam cutting through the darkness overhead. You know by now—or you've heard—that the lighthouse is only active during ferry arrivals and events... And there's definitely no ferry docked at the, er. Beach. The town is quiet, the forest spirits behave business-as-usual, Rastus doesn't know what's up. Whatever's going on, you'll have to figure it out for yourself.

And you will, though the hallucinations are subtle at first: objects moving when they shouldn't, people's proportions looking just a bit off, voices in an empty room, and so on. Is it just your mind playing tricks in the darkness? Might be! Will did warn you all about the effects of living without a sun and a proper day/night cycle.

As the days go on, the hallucinations are harder to ignore, no matter how much you may wish to wave them off as flukes. What's wrong with everyone's faces? When did all the howling start? Who do you hold onto when the world drops out from under you? And those hands...

While you might know it can't be real, it certainly feels real. But at least it can't last forever!

...Right?

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Will you stop saying that!

--And yes, I did! Because the way it was presented to me was you or me, and Crowley, I--

[ He holds in a breath and looks blue in the face.

He takes a breath and whispers: ]

It's just as easy a decision for me as it is for you.

[Crowley steps forward, leaning heavily on his good leg as he gets up in the angel's space]

No, it's not an easy decision, it's not a decision you get to make! You don't get to just decide that I have to live without you! If it's you or me, you let me die, do you hear me?

And why do you get to make that decision for me?

[ Aziraphale places a hand on Crowley's chest, but only to push him back a little so he's not all the way up in Aziraphale's face. ]

I won't hear it. I won't let you die, you utter ruinous bastard! And I am taking you home, and I don't want to talk about this with you anymore!

[Crowley reaches out a hand to catch his wrist, partially to stop him from pushing him away and partially to balance himself on something solid]

You almost died----you almost killed yourself and you think I'm just going to let this go?

For you! I thought I was saving you, and I couldn't bear it if I hadn't. If I'd let you die, Crowley.

It was so real. It was so real, and then-- then you were gone. For a whole second you were gone. So don't-- don't tell me not to because I'd do it again!

Don't you dare! Don't you dare! I thought I lost you once and that was the worst thing in the whole universe, Aziraphale!

[He crowds in Aziraphale's space more]

Do you think I'm sorry about the ferry? I'm not! Do you think I care about the people who were hurt? I don't! I don't care about anyone on this stupid rock except me, do you hear me? I'm a demonic monster and I'm not going to change for anyone!

That's why you have to live, to save the people who are here!

So you expect me to bear losing you instead? That's not fair!

[ Now he's just sort of banging on Crowley's chest with his palms out. Not hard, just in a frustrated way. ]

And don't you dare lie to me, I know you care! If you didn't, you wouldn't say that I had to be the one to stay and save everyone! Do you even hear what you are saying?

You care, and if I was gone, you wouldn't be helping everyone because I would want you to, but because you would want to!

I don't care what you say about demonic nature, you're not like them!

[He grabs Aziraphale's wrists again, holding him to keep him from banging on him]

I am! I'm exactly like them! I'm like every single one of them!

So you can't die for me! Think about what you're saying, angel! Just think about the sacrifice you'd make! I'm not worth it!

[ Now desperate, he doesn't even move his arms away. ]

Yes you are!

[ He shouts that part, but gets slightly quieter. ]

Yes you are, Crowley, and you always have been. You think that just because you're a demon, you aren't capable of good. And I've let it go because it would have been dangerous for you, if Hell found out, but Hell isn't here. And you haven't lost it, not even a Fall could make you lose all your light! Or were you not already Fallen when you showed Jesus the world? When you saved me? When you saved the entire world with me?

I'm not good! You know I'm not good!

You, angel, you're---

[he also gets quieter]

You're the best person I know.

[ He wrests a wrist out of Crowley's grip and lays it on his cheek, gently. ]

My dear boy, I don't know how you can say you're like the other demons when you tell me things like this.

[ Soft things. Nice things. Things that let Aziraphale know that he still has that spark in him, that smoldering burn of hope and goodness that's too bright to snuff out, that God had crafted too well to ever be destroyed, even by Her own hand. ]

[Crowley, in equal measure, wants to lean into the touch on his face and also totally wrench away from it. Aziraphale is not going to distract him. He almost fucking died like thirty seconds ago.

His voice stays low]

Don't die for me, Aziraphale.

I couldn't live with you dying for me.

Edited 2019-10-16 01:46 (UTC)

Well, don't... die for me either, Crowley.

[ He looks up in his eyes and only just realizes how close he is now that Aziraphale is holding his cheek. He thinks about all that's happened this week, these past two months: the two of them had saved the world and died, and had ended up here, and fucked up royally several dozens of times along the way.

And yet, here Crowley was, having had six thousand years of history with him, still his best friend, still shining like a beacon for him, calling him home.

There's a softly filtered pause that sits between them, broken only by a breezy salt spray. Yet, this close, Aziraphale can't feel anything but radiating warmth, and all he can think of is:

We don't have time.

Nobody is watching.

He reaches up, and slides the dark glasses off of Crowley's nose. ]

[Aziraphale takes off his sunglasses, and he can see the angel there, so close to him now. When did they get so close? They're both on the beach, both totally soaked, and standing practically in each others' arms like they weren't just having a row about who deserved to die for who.

(Which, oddly enough, was not the stupidest argument they had ever had in their 6000 year friendship.)

They were totally trapped here. Humanized. Possibly aging to death. And all Crowley could think was how, some fifty years ago, he was moving too fast for Aziraphale. Could that have changed, now that they were here? Now that they didn't have any time? Now that they didn't have any sides?

He stands, looking down at Aziraphale, frozen in the moment.]

[ If Aziraphale knew that Crowley would hold onto those words specifically and none other as hard as he had, he would have chosen them more carefully.

He clutches the glasses in one hand and looks up into Crowley's eyes, the color of gold, of stardust, of sunlight, of late nights drinking too much and of watching over him for six millennia.

The illusions are all gone, just whispers of seafoam, pale under the rich canvas of stars that look so much like the ones Crowley had painted so long ago. Why hadn't he taken more time to admire his work? Why hadn't he taken more time to admire the artist?

He thinks to himself, that Crowley is not like the other demons because he loves, and he is loved. His chin tilts gently to the right, and the tips of his fingers tug on Crowley's cheek, urging him back into motion. ]

[Aziraphale once told Crowley he moved too fast, so Crowley slowed down as much as he could. He practically stopped moving. He'd stay perfectly still by the angel's side as long as he was there, with him. It was always enough, then.

Then, Crowley thought Aziraphale had died.

Then, the world nearly ended.

Then, they both died and came here.

Then, Aziraphale almost doused his own lantern.

Maybe it's about time Crowley started moving again.]

Oh, sod it.

[He reaches up to cup Aziraphale's cheeks and brings his mouth down on the angel's, hard and fast before he changes his mind and backs away again.]

[ Aziraphale gasps, but it's quickly swallowed by Crowley's lips, and he holds Crowley steadfast against him as they kiss, drinking him in like he's waited several millennia for this very moment.

In a way, it's been longer.

He allows himself to get lost in this moment, sucking in sharp, surprised breaths in the small gaps between when their mouths meet. And when it ends, everything is deafeningly still and silent, feeling lingering like fresh, powdery snowfall.

He pillows his head onto Crowley's chest, and draws Crowley's arms around him tighter, to hold him as close as could be. ]

[Crowley has waited six thousand years to kiss Aziraphale. Ever since Eden, ever since he blurted out that he gave his stupid flaming sword away. It was an infatuation that only grew and grew until----well, until---

He's almost shellshocked when the kiss is over, stunned at himself for going for it, and stunned that Aziraphale not only didn't push him away, but responded the way he did. Maybe he's been delaying too long. Or maybe now is finally the right time.

He wraps his arms around Aziraphale, leaning against him as they stand on the beach.

He swallows.]

Now what do we do?

[ He smiles into the warmth of Crowley's chest and thinks he might not leave until their time on this world, on any world, is up. ]

I don't know.

[ He's still clinging onto the glasses as if they're something of a treasure, and he pulls away only to look into Crowley's eyes again. ]

Lift home?

--Literally?

[Crowley leans over, picking up his lantern from where he discarded it on the beach. He holds onto both of them now.]

Yeah, angel. Give us a lift.

[ He lifts Crowley easily, and starts to fly them home. So he didn't get much done by way of building today, but there's always tomorrow. ]

Would you like your glasses back?

[ He'd hung them from his bowtie for easy keeping. But he sort of doesn't want to return them. ]

[Crowley could easily fly himself, but there's something very nice about being in Aziraphale's arms right now. The Aziraphale who is still verymuch alive. The Aziraphale he just kissed, which is still basically blowing his mind.]

Nah, I'll get them later.

[he looks down at the town]

How far do you think we could explore if we flew?

Would you like to? I don't think we can see most of it. But I also don't think we should stray too far. Not like this.

[ And, you know, for selfish reasons, like he wants to get Crowley inside and his leg propped up on pillows. ]

Not right now.

[He's had a bit too much adventure tonight.]

We might hallucinate up here.

Oh. Yes, that would be very bad.

[ Which means he's making a beeline for the house.

But he will indulge Crowley in a loop-de-loop before they land directly into the second-story window. ]

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