With the sound of shredding fabric, Gabriel's wings sprung forth, forcing the pair of them away from the wall; Crowley stumbled back, giving Gabriel just enough of the upper hand be able to shove them both off-balance. He landed on top of the demon with uncomfortable force.

Pinned to the ground, his white and gold wings arched over them like a misplaced shield. It was a risk, perhaps, to expose the vulnerable limbs. But then, Gabriel knew very well that Crowley could not do the same, as he had patched up the demon's broken wings himself; and perhaps that is what drove him.

"I think you've dug yourself deep enough already, demon," he hissed near Crowley's ear. "Or do you insist on making every situation worse with your vile tongue?"