Date: 2005-08-07 09:21 am (UTC)
The screaming woke him up.

It wasn't a really pleasant way to snap out of trauma-induced shock, a tiny infintessimal little piece of his mind told him calmly. The dropping didn't help either. Aziraphale, however, was feeling very not-calm when he could see Crowley's writhing form on the floor next to him. He reached for him immediately, gathering the shaking body to him and lifting him off the floor. He tugged Crowley into his lap, one hand firmly on his head, holding it flush against his chest protectively. He stroked Crowley's hair, murmuring soothing things and ignoring his leg, which still burned deeply and was giving him shocks of unholy heat up and down his leg in a truly unpleasant manner.

And then he noticed the halo.

Oh, no. His legs were drenched. Water, like acid, was scattered about him, soaking Crowley's flat... the floors, the walls, the furniture. He looked around him, feeling his aura improve and start to make his skin glow, showing the harmed parts of it look black and sickly against the luminescent light.

He realized he still held Crowley tightly, rocking him as one would a small child. "Crowley," he whispered, and was horrified to hear the secondary, heavenly echo in his voice. "Crowley," he whispered again, and his wings ripped open and pushed him upwards, as he held Crowley with one hand and tore off the wet clothes with the other, halting the acidic burn. "Come on, demon," he muttered, eyes still bright with shock and fever and now tears. "Talk to me."
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