Chapter Text
Crowley had been in the cabin-turned-prison for two days already. He was already aware of the suspicions that had been levelled his way at his sudden ‘helpfulness’ with regards to guarding Aziraphale. A number of times they had had visitors knocking on the door, asking if he wanted to ‘take a break and let someone else guard the creature for a while’.
He adamantly refused every time, and the pleased looks that were being sent his way after every refusal made it an easier burden to bear.
Aziraphale, after having slept for a good number of hours to allow their body time to heal, had apparently decided that Crowley was trustworthy enough after all. As such, Crowley had been able to fill in a large number of the blanks he had regarding the punishment that had befallen Aziraphale, and the duties that they were made to perform during their punishment. The group of punished angels that Aziraphale had been a part of were somewhat numerous in size; a good 20 or so angels, all having suffered the same punishment and been forced down to Earth.
According to his angel (Crowley wasn’t sure when in the past 48 hours he’d started referring to the angel as his but he was enjoying the sound of it in his head too much to stop now), the group had been punished for ‘sympathising with those of Heaven who had turned their backs on Him’. In other words, Aziraphale and their group of angels had been punished because of Crowley and his group of angels. The original Fallen. Sympathising, naturally, wasn’t as much of a sin as actively sauntering down to Hell, but it was counted as ‘questioning the will of Him’ and, as such, punishment had been dealt. Their wings had been taken and replaced with a tail and fins, and the ‘punished’ were tasked with assessing and taking those lost at sea for judgement.
This tended to mean one of three things:
- The person or people lost at sea were assessed to have Wickedness in their hearts and were therefore taken to the bottom of the sea where their lives were lost and their souls were readily available for collection by Them Below
- The person or people lost at sea were assessed to have Good in their hearts; however, their physical bodies were too far gone for a mortal recovery. Death was dealt swiftly and their souls were sent to Heaven’s Gate.
- The person or people lost at sea were assessed to have Good in their hearts and could have a mortal recovery. Help was summoned and these people tended to think their rescue was due to some sort of guardian angel. Others would be grateful for their safety and dismissive of their claims without knowing that, in a funny sort of way, they were right.
The duties should have been simple. However, things that ‘should be’ rarely actually ‘are’, and unfortunately, as time went on, some of the angels began to feel resentful at the punishment they had been dealt. Aziraphale had watched as beings that they had known and been close to, began to change in ways that they had not thought possible. Slowly, as their faith in Him ebbed away, the ‘punished’ grew more monstrous. They had learnt how to disguise themselves above water, still appearing beautiful and angelic to those they took a fancy for, but Aziraphale could see the difference under the ocean’s surface.
Their basic shape was still humanoid, but there was nothing else even remotely human-like about them anymore.
“It scared me.” Aziraphale confessed, “I had known these angels Above, but the longer it went on, the less I could recognise them.”
“Why didn’t they just Fall?” Crowley could help but ask.
Aziraphale shrugged, “Perhaps, in some way, that is Falling. I think it is safe to say, they have turned their backs on Him.”
“Maybe it’s not ‘Falling’ in the traditional sense,” Crowley agreed, “I think I understand. But what about their duties?”
At this, Aziraphale looked saddened, their eyes turned downcast and their lips twisting into a frown, “Sometimes they get it right,” He began, “But, they do not care who they take down now”
“So, no rescuing then?”
They shook their head.
“What about you?” A look of confusion met his eyes, so Crowley explained, “I just mean, what’s kept you from going that way?”
Aziraphale looked hesitant, worrying at their lower lip between their teeth as they looked away from Crowley’s eyes once more. It seemed to be a nervous tick of the angel’s, the more anxious they got, the more they began to look at anything that wasn’t him. “It has been… difficult” They murmured, so quiet that Crowley had to strain to hear it,
“You’ve had moments of doubt haven’t you?” He lifted Aziraphale’s chin up with his fingers to bring them back up to eye level, then he ran his fingers along the scales that littered the angel’s jawline and ran up the sides of their face, noting with interest the shiver that Aziraphale tried to suppress, “That’s what this is, isn’t it?”
Aziraphale pulled away, an expression of shame clearly visible on their face, “I was so angry. It had been over 1000 years and I was… angry. I thought He had forgotten us.” Crowley waited, watching as Aziraphale picked at one of the scales that ran up his arm, “I felt the change start. Saw the new scales appear, and then came these,” They indicated to the claws on their hands, “And these,” the teeth this time, “I panicked. I was so scared, and I prayed, and I begged for Forgiveness,” the angel sighed, “He was merciful. The last change happened 500 years ago. I cannot risk any more of them.”
Crowley took Aziraphale’s hands in his own, halting the angel from actually picking one of their scales off.
“Well, despite what they might symbolise,” He said, running a thumb over the shifting colours on the back of Aziraphale’s hand, “they certainly do look beautiful on you.”
Aziraphale seemed transfixed on the motion of Crowley’s thumb, their eyes following the movement back and forth, “You would not say that if you saw the final result,” They whispered, lips parting at the sensation of the light touch on their scales, “It is truly monstrous”
“When you’ve spent as much time in Hell as I have, nothing can look too monstrous” Crowley reminded the other, “I couldn’t imagine you looking anything other than stunning”
Outright flirting with an angelic being. Yes, this was likely to get him all of the commendations Down Below. This was demon-of-the-year award-worthy behaviour right here.
However, with Aziraphale leaning closer to him, a dark flush colouring their cheeks and a hopeful expression on their face as they whispered, “Do you truly think so?” Crowley couldn’t bring himself to care about the potential consequences of his next action.
One hand curled around the back of Aziraphale’s neck, while the other came up to stroke down their cheek and Crowley’s eyes were firmly planted on the angel’s pink lips, “Aziraphale,” He whispered, his face lips only inches away, “Can I kiss you?”
Aziraphale gave just the barest hint of a nod, before Crowley found himself with an armful of eager angel. Clearly, they had thought that Crowley had been acting too slowly, as their lips pressed insistently against the demons. It was as though they had just been waiting for a hint that they were allowed to do this and Crowley was kicking himself that he hadn’t asked sooner.
The lips against his own were out-of-practice, clumsily sliding and pressing as close as possible, and yet it felt like Heaven. Or maybe even better than Heaven. If Heaven had given Crowley pleasure like this, from something as simple as a kiss, then Crowley might not have up and left as easily as he did. Aziraphale had placed their arms around Crowley’s shoulders as his own had snaked around Aziraphale’s waist, holding the other upright and slightly out of the water.
Crowley pushed the tip of his tongue against the seam of Aziraphale’s lips, silently demanding entrance to the warm cavern of their mouth. They complied easily, and Crowley enjoyed the sharp intake of air as they felt the unnatural length of his tongue invade their mouth. That intake of air soon merged into a pleased moan and Crowley felt the angel reciprocate eagerly, taking everything Crowley was offering and giving back as good as they got.
Crowley ran his hands up and down Aziraphale’s back, enjoying every gasp, and moan, and shudder that accompanied the ministrations. He could feel the other simultaneously pushing their body as closer to Crowley and holding themselves back, as though they didn’t want to truly give in to the sensations they were being given.
After what could have been a few minutes or a few hours, Aziraphale pulled their lips away,
“Too much,” they whispered, their voice sounding breathless and wanton.
Crowley captured their lips once more, tugging a little bit at the lower lip with his teeth, before replying, “Don’t you want it, angel?”
Aziraphale nodded, “I do, yes,” and then they shook their head, “But I should not”
Crowley wanted to push further. He wanted, desperately, to tempt the angel into giving in to their lust. It would be so easy; they were 90% there already. But, Aziraphale had already explained to him how scared they were of the version of Falling that seemed to plague the punished. He couldn’t do that to them. He didn’t know if having sex with a demon would cause it, or if it was just a loss of faith that would do it - the risk was too great either way.
Therefore, he settled for gathering Aziraphale into his arms, the angel gasping slightly at the motion and making to pull away before realising what Crowley’s intentions were. Then, Crowley felt them let their body relax and allow their head to fall into the juncture at his neck, burying their face into the warm skin there.
***
They spent almost two hours like that. Aziraphale had long since perched themselves on Crowley’s lap, unconcerned with the water that soaked into his trousers now that they knew how easy it was for him to dry himself off. It was soothing to be able to let the rest of their tail hang in the water, the scales having been exposed to the drying salty air for longer than they should have been and Crowley quite enjoyed watching the way their fins floated loosely under the water. The sky blue was almost transparent when submerged and he could just see an iridescent shimmer against the light every so often.
Aziraphale, meanwhile, seemed content to play with Crowley’s fingers and hands, comparing the texture and the size to his own and running feather-soft fingers over the light smattering of hair on the back of Crowley’s hand.
It was peaceful, but one could never expect peacefulness to last for too long on a pirate ship and soon a sharp knock against the door, accompanied by the rattling of the handle, interrupted their quite moment. They couldn’t enter the cabin; a little trick that Crowley had mastered over the years, as humans proved themselves, repeatedly, to be too curious for their own goods. However, the longer he kept them out, the more persistent they would get and the more questions would be sent his way. Best get it over and done with now, he decided with a sigh.
“Time to get back in the water, angel” He said reluctantly, “I’d better see what they want”
Aziraphale slipped back in with little argument, submerging themselves as far as they could go. They were wary of the humans on board this ship. Humans, generally, didn’t tend to treat things that were ‘other’ with any great amount of respect. As much as Aziraphale could defend against most attacks, they didn’t want to risk anything right here and right now.
Crowley reapplied his spectacles and opened the door to find the same lower ranked member of the crew on the other side that had been initially guarding Aziraphale,
“Cap’n wants to see you” He informed Crowley, clearly trying to sound braver than he actually felt, “Says it’s urgent an’ ta not take no for an answer.”
Crowley rolled his eyes behind the lenses, “She wants me to leave them here unguarded?” He queries, indicating to Aziraphale,
“I’m ta take over for a while, is what she says,” the crewmate seemed to be looking anywhere but at Crowley himself, “reckons you been down ‘ere with it too long”
Crowley scowled, “Does she now?” He grumbled, “Well, I’d better see what her ladyship wants then, hadn’t I?” He turned to look at Aziraphale, who by this point had poked their eyes over the rim of the tub in an attempt to gauge what was going on, “I won’t be long” He announced, as both reassurance for Aziraphale and a warning to the crewmate.
With that, he pushed passed the young man and strode into the corridor, hoping to get this over with as soon as he possibly could. It was only a short walk to the captain’s cabin and Crowley had no need for knocking on doors as he barged through. It was a bit of a blow to his pride, when the Captain didn’t even look up at his entrance,
“Mr Crowley” She greeted,
“Captain, can I ask what this is about?”
She looked up from her map and gestured for him to come over, “Nice to see you could peel yourself away from the fish,” She quipped, ignorant of the glare she received from the demon, “Come and have a look at this”
She was pointing a tiny island that seemed to be not far from their current location. Crowley failed to see what the relevance of the island could have been, and he said as much, “It’s an island, I guess”
“No, it’s a continent,” She shot back, sarcasm lacing her words and following it with a mumble that sounded suspiciously like ‘Idiot’, “Yes of course it’s an island. But it’s not just any island, this one’s a bit special, you see”
“And why’s that?”
Knotley grinned, “Well, I’ve heard some talk recently, and what I’ve heard is that this tiny, little, inconspicuous island is home to one of the best auctions for noblemen to purchase both rare creatures and slaves”
As the words processed in Crowley’s mind, he had to resist the urge to gawk in abject horror, “Thought we were going to Tortuga,” He said, instead, “You know, conduct our business like honourable pirates?” Tortuga gave him another five days to figure out how to get both himself and Aziraphale off the ship without arousing too much backlash. Because in the two days Crowley had known the angel, he was already certain that he wasn’t going to be able to let them go without a fight.
“Now why would we do that?” Knotley questioned, “I already told you I want that thing off my ship as soon as possible. S’bad luck keeping it here, you know.”
‘Bad luck’? Human’s and their foolish predilections towards good and bad luck and the causes there of. Suspicious bunch of paranoid beings, more so than most other mammals. ‘Bad luck’ wasn’t keeping a punished angel as prisoner on board a pirate’s vessel. ‘Bad luck’ was pissing off the demon that had so far been your only cause of ‘good luck’. However, Crowley would be lying if he said the two weren’t connected.
She continued, unaware of the thin line she was currently treading, “This island is a mere days sailing away. And can you imagine the coin those noblemen will drop for the prize that we’re offering? Did you know, they say a single scale from one of those things could cure any ailment you can think of? Some even say, if you take enough of them, it could be the key to unlocking eternal youth. Dunno how, but I reckon we ought to take some for ourselves, don’t ya think? ”
A day? Crowley was going to have to hurry up and think of something. Never mind the rest of the rubbish she was spouting, he’d like to see her try to get near Aziraphale with any intention of removing their scales without Crowley having something to say about it. As it was, he was doing some impressive mental gymnastics to try to argue his way out of his current predicament. A fact that must have been showing more clearly on his face than he’d originally intended.
“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft for it?”
Crowley feigned a scoff, “Please, Knotley, thought you’d have known me better than that by now?” He lied easily, “I’m just worried that you’ll do yourself a disservice. How do you know that the noblemen that visit that island will pay better than the noblemen that buy from Tortuga?”
He’s certain that she probably would have a comeback to that, if they hadn’t been interrupted by a loud scream, accompanied by, “I’ll fucking kill you!” yelled from a couple of decks below, that sent both of them into a sprint out of the cabin door.
It was not the first time that Crowley had been grateful for the longer-than-average legs his corporeal form had been dealt, as he reached the door to Aziraphale’s ‘prison’ in record time, much faster than Knotley had managed. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he slammed open the door, blind panic having sent him running before he could think about what he was running in to. However, Aziraphale with blood on their lips and a shaky pistol aimed at their head, and the crewmate looking deathly pale and clutching his hand into his stomach probably wasn’t going to be his first guess.
With a mere thought, he emptied the pistol of all gunpowder, eliminating that immediate danger, so then he could focus on figuring out what the situation in front of him was. He moved swiftly to Aziraphale, assessing him for any obvious signs of damage, before the other occupant of the room decided to make it easier for him,
“Look what it did to me!” He cried, holding out the hand that he’d been protecting to wave it in front of Crowley’s face.
Despite knowing that the situation wasn’t really anything to laugh about, Crowley had to restrain himself from laughing in the man’s face, as he waved his two bloodied finger stumps at them with a look of pure indignation all over his face. Crowley gave him about another two minutes before he collapsed into an unconscious mess on the floor. Aziraphale, for their part, was directing their gaze firmly on the floor next to Crowley’s feet. The situation probably wasn’t quite as amusing for them.
“Well, what were you doing prodding them then?” Crowley queried, his tone similar to one his would take as if scolding a disobedient child.
The crewmate’s mouth fell open, and Crowley could almost hear the rebuttal forming, until he heard the click of a loaded pistol interrupt them.
“I think you should take two steps to the left now, Mr Crowley”
Lucifer himself couldn’t have got Crowley to take any steps away from Aziraphale right now, so he didn’t know what chance Knotley thought she had, cocked pistol and extra men (that she’d apparently gathered on the way) or not. With the same power he’d applied before, Knotley would now find her pistol useless if she did try to fire it, but the captain was sneakier than most and without knowing what else she had up her sleeve there was nothing Crowley could do to be certain that there was no immediate danger. The situation was, therefore, still highly precarious.
“I don’t think I’m going to do that, Captain.” He said, firmly,
“You’re really going to ally yourself with that thing, instead of us?” She asked, disbelief evident in her voice, “You’ve been a loyal part of this crew for five years”
Crowley rolled his eyes. He’d truly thought she was smarter. To assume that any member of a pirate’s crew were actually loyal was foolishness of the highest order.
“You really think shooting them is the best course of action here?” If Crowley could appeal to her sense of greed, that would buy him more time to come up with an escape plan before they reached that island, “You think you’ll get anywhere near as much for them dead, rather than alive?”
He held her gaze for a long moment. Then, as if on cue, the injured crewmate chose that moment to lose consciousness, their body crumpling to the floor like a marionette puppet with its strings cut.
“Oh, now, that doesn’t look so good” Crowley pointed out, feigning genuine concern, “I reckon he needs to go to Boyle” Boyle was the ship’s medic. In the loosest sense of the word. Maybe less medic and more ‘the only person on board that is relatively okay at stitching body part A to body part B’. That sounded more accurate.
Knotley glanced from Crowley, to her stricken crewmate, then back to Crowley again. A scowl planted firmly on her face she pocketed her pistol, “Don’t think this is over, Crowley. You and your pet,” She spat the phrase out in Aziraphale’s direction, “are off this ship as soon as we reach land. I’m sure the Navy would love to get their hands on you.”
Crowley held her glare as if in silent challenge. Her threats were of little concern; his priority remained on making sure Aziraphale never got within 100 yards of that auction. After a moment longer, Knotley signalled to one of her ‘bodyguards’ to gather the floored crewmate, before turning on her heel and storming out of the door. As they were leaving, Crowley happened to notice something on the floor near Aziraphale’s tub,
“Oh, Captain!” He called, walking briskly to the door and up to the woman in question, “think you might need these.” He remarked, holding out two, somewhat grey looking, fingers by the tips, “Don’t let Boyle stitch them on backwards, that would just be unfortunate” He finished with a wink, as he turned back for the cabin before she could utter a word in retaliation.
He had locked the door behind him and knelt down next to Aziraphale in a matter of seconds, “So, what happened?” He asked, in a voice much gentler than what he’d previously been using as his hands searched for a cloth of some sort in order to wipe the blood off a very distressed-looking angel,
“I do not like to do that,” they whispered, their voice a touch shaky, “I never like to cause unnecessary hurt”
“Was it unnecessary?”
The angel swallowed, uncertainty clouding their features, “I…. do not know”
Crowley looked over the other’s form, searching for any extra scaling or fins anywhere on their body. Finding nothing of note, he took Aziraphale’s hands, urging them to keep their attention on Crowley, “Aziraphale, if you had really caused that man unnecessary harm, wouldn’t there be some signs of change?”
Aziraphale looked panicked, and all Crowley needed now was for them to tell him that changes didn’t happened immediately or some such issue as that. He could have breathed a sigh of relief when he realised that what Aziraphale was actually doing, was searching their form for changes as well. Apparently, something they hadn’t thought to do before.
“I suppose.” They mumbled
“So, what did that man do, that caused you to do that to him?”
Aziraphale chewed their bottom lip, “He had… harmful intentions,” they said eventually, “To… towards me.”
“Should I not have given him his fingers back?” That earned Crowley a fraction of a smile, and he chose to count that as a small victory, so he tried for more clarity, “Please, Aziraphale, could you be a little more specific?”
Aziraphale sighed, removing their hands from Crowley’s grasp and folding them across their chest, “When he walked through the door, and you had left, he asked me if I were a woman, or a man… in so many words. His language was more colourful, I am sure you can imagine.”
Crowley had to admit, it was something he was curious about; Angels, as a rule, didn’t have genders – biological or otherwise. Moreover, unless given a corporeal form, sexual desire was off the cards as well. Sexual desire wasn’t even something that much thought was given to when given their corporeal forms, even though they had the capacity for it. Angels, overall, thought themselves above such baser instincts. However, the form that Aziraphale, and indeed all of the ‘punished’, had been given was not one of Earthly origin. So were they bound to the same rules? Aziraphale certainly seemed to have the capacity for desire, if the kiss that Crowley had been granted beforehand had been any indication.
As before, these questions could be answered later. Crowley was more interested in the events that had led to a man’s fingers being removed by force,
“Did he do something, with these intentions I mean?”
Aziraphale nodded, slowly, “He was full of lust. Usually I have to present alternative forms to those I wish to approach for judgment, but his was a lust born of curiosity and a desire for… dominance. I could feel his intentions rolling off him in waves. Suffocating me.” Another swallow, and then they finally looked up at Crowley, “He came towards me, to… touch me, I suppose. I think I panicked, for the next thing I knew, there was screaming and yelling and I could taste blood”
By this point, Crowley was gripping the edge of the tub so tightly his knuckles were turning white, he was almost glad that Aziraphale had taken their own hands back. If he hadn’t been so angry, he might have been impressed that the angel had managed to actually bite a man’s fingers off. As it was, he had half a mind to go down to the medic’s cabin and rip off more than just two of that bastard’s fingers off. He probably might have actually done it, if not for a gentle touch on his arm bringing him back down to the present. He hadn’t even noticed Aziraphale move,
“It is okay, my dear,” Aziraphale soothed, “He did not actually cause harm to me…”
“But he wanted to” Crowley interrupted, “He had every intention of…”
“And yet, he did not” Aziraphale interrupted back, “Besides, he is marked now”
That made Crowley pause and raise an eyebrow, “’Marked’?”
The angel nodded, and then motioned Crowley closer. Crowley complied quickly, bringing the chair he’d been in before over to the side of the tub and allowing Aziraphale to rest their head on Crowley’s lap. He waited a moment as Aziraphale got themselves comfortable, and then the angel explained, “‘Marking’ acts a sort of fail safe,” they began, “should we fail to bring a soul in for judgment, perhaps the target realises what is happening before they are far enough into the water, we can mark them with just a touch. They do not even realise what has happened and believe they have saved themselves.”
“So what does it do?”
“It is a… beacon. Or maybe, a calling is a better word for it.” The angel said, “It will attract others of the punished to them, like blood in the water. Usually, it is the changed who find them first. Soon enough, he will not be able to go near the water without attracting attention.”
Crowley nodded in understanding. It made him feel at least a little bit better, even if he wasn’t going to be able to enact revenge himself, at least the knowledge that the crewmate has, essentially, a pack of predators waiting to drag him down to the depths of the ocean at any given moment in time. It was a soothing thought.
Aziraphale seemed content to rest like that, their cheek pillowed on Crowley’s lap, one of Crowley’s hands resting in their own while the other threaded through their curls. Crowley, too, would have been content to rest like that. Unfortunately, there was a pressing issue that needed to be addressed.
He gave the other a couple of moments longer, and then he whispered, “Aziraphale?”, to which he garnered a low hum in reply, “I think we need to start planning how to get off this ship, as quickly and quietly as possible…”
“It is okay.” Aziraphale murmured, to Crowley’s great confusion. He would have thought the angel would be quite eager to get off a ship that contained so much ill intent towards them, that intended to take them to an island to be auctioned off to the highest bidder,
“Aziraphale, I don’t think…”
“I am saying, is it okay” They reaffirmed, “This ship cannot moor on the island, it is not possible. They will have to take us inland by longboat, or dinghy.” They explained, and then flexed their tail fins out of the tub to show the healing process to Crowley, “I will be healed by then. I am much faster in the water than I am out of it. We can rest until then.”
Crowley suddenly understood, “Oh, you brilliant angel” He remarked, hugging Aziraphale closer to his body and pressing his lips against the angel’s forehead, a bright smile appearing on their lips. It was only a matter of time then.