Crowley didn'tlike War. He didn't like it for a multitude of reasons----not the least of which is that he was an incredible coward. But now, watching Aziraphale leading armies, it was a different sort of cowardice. A fear of watching his best friend die, of watching something horrible happen to him and being unable to do anything about it.
It wasn't easy. Hellfire in the hands of humans was vicious, though. Many of them, inspired by the news and the other humans, threw it at the angels without a second thought. Thousands of them, brandishing fire. And when he was with the fire-brandishing humans he couldn't be anywhere near Aziraphale. When Aziraphale was blessing the rainclouds he couldn't be anywhere near him either. All he could do was fight, and worry.
Try to do what Aziraphale would do. He watched as a blessed rain approached. It wouldn't hurt any of humanity, but as that column of water came down, it would destroy him instantly.
"Is that your armor?"
Hastur. Of course he would find Crowley here. Crowley held out the flamethrower, but it was useless against the demon.
"I should have known. They said the humans started fighting back. Only you would cause them to rise up. Traitor!" Hastur swung with his crowbar, hitting Crowley squarely in the stomach, the force of which was mostly taken by the armor. He struck again, this time in the leg, which wasn't covered with any sort of protection. Hastur twisted, and a curse ran through it, hitting Crowley in the thigh. Pain ran through him, the kind that you only get from the deeper levels of Hell.
"It's not only me this time, Hastur," Crowley hissed back. No, not just him. He had Aziraphale. He had the blessings of angels on his side. The blessed raincloud approached, and Crowley gave a solid kick, sending the demon back into it. He hobbled away at top speed, as fast as he could move with the curse radiating through his leg. He ran, ran as fast as he could, but his leg hurt too much, he wasn't moving fast enough, the rain was coming too quickly---
And suddenly, just like that, it stopped. The rainclouds, the fire. The angels and demons stopped. Crowley limped towards where they were all looking. Something was happening. A truce?
Oh, Crowley didn't trust truces. He'd tempted too many generals to break them during times of war.
"Aziraphale?" he called out as his friend approached him.
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It wasn't easy. Hellfire in the hands of humans was vicious, though. Many of them, inspired by the news and the other humans, threw it at the angels without a second thought. Thousands of them, brandishing fire. And when he was with the fire-brandishing humans he couldn't be anywhere near Aziraphale. When Aziraphale was blessing the rainclouds he couldn't be anywhere near him either. All he could do was fight, and worry.
Try to do what Aziraphale would do. He watched as a blessed rain approached. It wouldn't hurt any of humanity, but as that column of water came down, it would destroy him instantly.
"Is that your armor?"
Hastur. Of course he would find Crowley here. Crowley held out the flamethrower, but it was useless against the demon.
"I should have known. They said the humans started fighting back. Only you would cause them to rise up. Traitor!" Hastur swung with his crowbar, hitting Crowley squarely in the stomach, the force of which was mostly taken by the armor. He struck again, this time in the leg, which wasn't covered with any sort of protection. Hastur twisted, and a curse ran through it, hitting Crowley in the thigh. Pain ran through him, the kind that you only get from the deeper levels of Hell.
"It's not only me this time, Hastur," Crowley hissed back. No, not just him. He had Aziraphale. He had the blessings of angels on his side. The blessed raincloud approached, and Crowley gave a solid kick, sending the demon back into it. He hobbled away at top speed, as fast as he could move with the curse radiating through his leg. He ran, ran as fast as he could, but his leg hurt too much, he wasn't moving fast enough, the rain was coming too quickly---
And suddenly, just like that, it stopped. The rainclouds, the fire. The angels and demons stopped. Crowley limped towards where they were all looking. Something was happening. A truce?
Oh, Crowley didn't trust truces. He'd tempted too many generals to break them during times of war.
"Aziraphale?" he called out as his friend approached him.