{david tennant character oneshots}

(pt. 1) Crowley ~ Purposeful Discorporation

🖤💔💖🌸💚🌔🔴💌🥇🖋

Half in shadow, two angels stood at the edge of a ballroom, watching the merriment surrounding them. Dazzling gowns that dressed the ladies caught the light from chandeliers above and tailcoats swirled as gentlemen twirled their partners across the dance floor. 

Humanity was on display in all its joy; cheeks aglow, laughter ringing in the air, candles flickering, gold and metal shining, couples kissing, children giggling. 

And yet, there was an air of mourning shrouding the two angels. One had hair of purest white, much like the brightest white on the suit he had found for the occasion. The other had vibrant auburn hair, making her look much like her demon mate, who was strangely absent. She was the only female in the room who wore a dress entirely of black. 

She stared unblinkingly out at the people, teardrop earrings shivering in her ears as she trembled. Her companion's eyes darted down to her gloved hands, finding them clenched within the silk. 

"You're going to rumple your gloves," he said quietly.

"Do you blame me?" she asked. 

"No, but you know how he would feel about ruined clothing."

"I can miracle it."

Aziraphale's eyes slid to her, watching her struggle to maintain her composure. "It's not your fault, Sachaeya."

She at last met his gaze. It was odd, Aziraphale noted, that her hair was pinned up. In all the time he had known her, she had kept her curls loose. He supposed it was just another piece of her mourning. 

"I wasn't there," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "I wasn't there to prevent it."

Aziraphale lowered his gaze from her bitter, agonized stare. "If I had known what Hastur had planned—"

"If it is not my fault, it can't be yours, either," Sachaeya said firmly. "Neither of us knew."

The angel wrung his hands. "I ought to have known," he fretted. "I should have seen it coming."

"How?"

"I don't know!" Aziraphale cried, frustrated. His outburst garnered several confused looks from those closest to them. He gave a tiny, awkward smile in apology. The pair fell silent until no one watched them. "You're quite certain he's gone?"

Neither of them could say his name, of course. 

Sachaeya closed her eyes, a silver tear leaking from the corner of one. "I'm certain," she whispered. "I don't feel him. Our bond is severed." She wiped away her tear and did not bother miracling away the stain it left on her glove. "He's not coming back."

Aziraphale offered his hand. Sachaeya took it, Aziraphale lacing their trembling fingers together. 

Across the room, three figures were shrouded in shadow even the two angels could not see through. Two were demons, the third an angel. 

"Look what you have done," Beelzebub hissed, shoving Hastur forward. "You have broken them."

"You have broken them with their own love for Crowley," said Gabriel.

Hastur trembled under twin powerful and terrifying stares. "He deserved it," he squeaked. "He murdered Ligur with holy water!"

Beelzebub waved a hand in the direction of the two mourning angels, who were each watching the merry dancing with tears blurring their vision. "And for this, it should be you who suffered Crowley's fate! If I were any smarter, I would have ordered for your extinction rather than let this fool talk me into this." Beelzebub glared at Gabriel.