Crowley gapes. "So, what? They just blew themselves up?"
Something hits him hard at that. It shouldn't, he tells himself. It shouldn't because humans die all of the time. If it isn't violence that takes them, then time does. Not even a lot of time, and suddenly they're gone. He shouldn't even let himself think about it because it doesn't matter---it doesn't matter.
Except it does. And the human soldier person has become Crowley's friend. One of the only people he's come to truly like in this horrible, miserable little dark town. Someone who really wanted to make sure he stayed alive.
And they ran off into a group of spirits with a grenade. "That's---well, actually that sounds exactly like something they'd fucking do, and they're always after me for being reckless."
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Something hits him hard at that. It shouldn't, he tells himself. It shouldn't because humans die all of the time. If it isn't violence that takes them, then time does. Not even a lot of time, and suddenly they're gone. He shouldn't even let himself think about it because it doesn't matter---it doesn't matter.
Except it does. And the human soldier person has become Crowley's friend. One of the only people he's come to truly like in this horrible, miserable little dark town. Someone who really wanted to make sure he stayed alive.
And they ran off into a group of spirits with a grenade. "That's---well, actually that sounds exactly like something they'd fucking do, and they're always after me for being reckless."