Crowley knows better than to dismiss nightmares as silly. Hell learned early on that physical punishments, while effective, were nothing compared to the torments the human mind can devise. Real torture lay in combining the two. Another life now, thank someone for that...but Crowley knows better than to underestimate the imagination. Any imagination. Nothing bites like fear.
He closes his eyes, hearing the lie in the quiet words, but doesn't call Aziraphale on it. "What do you need?" he asks instead, as he always has, but more directly than he used to have to. "Tell me what you need, angel. Anything."
He'll do it, is the thing. Whatever's asked for, whatever's needed, anything Aziraphale wants. Drive through fire, prevent the end of the world, come back from the dead. Anything. It's there in his words, the tightening of his arms and hands.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-01-09 12:09 am (UTC)He closes his eyes, hearing the lie in the quiet words, but doesn't call Aziraphale on it. "What do you need?" he asks instead, as he always has, but more directly than he used to have to. "Tell me what you need, angel. Anything."
He'll do it, is the thing. Whatever's asked for, whatever's needed, anything Aziraphale wants. Drive through fire, prevent the end of the world, come back from the dead. Anything. It's there in his words, the tightening of his arms and hands.