Warning - Nonconsensual metaphysical content.
It has been centuries since Crowley had heard that voice without it being filtered through the radio. Even longer since he had heard it on earth.
"Boss." Crowley tried to keep his voice even. He turned to face The Devil, pressing his back against the bakery counter. Everyone around them was frozen.
"I've been looking for you." Satan took a step toward him. "You are very good at avoiding my attention. I haven't seen you in person since the 14th century."
"Not avoiding Lord. The Princes said no further in-person reports and then as you know...I retired " Crowley looked from side to side but he was hemmed in by frozen mortals.
Lucifer pinned his body to the counter with his greater bulk. He grabbed Crowley by the chin and held his head still while he removed his sunglasses. "No more in-person reports? Who told you I didn't desire to see you?" He stroked the side of Crowley's face.
Crowley fought against the full force of Satan's presence to keep his brain working at full capacity. "Prince Beelzebub and Prince Asmodeus, my Lord." The pressure of his former boss's body was both pleasant and unpleasant. Lucifer was warm and Crowley was a sucker for anything warm. Also Satan had an undeniable effect on the Fallen that made them relax, made them pliant, made them vulnerable.
"Calm down, Crowley." Lucifer grabbed his wrists with his free hand without releasing Crowley's chin and pushed them above Crowley's head. "While this may hurt, it's not the purpose of this. I need information and you are my best source in this case. The Princes have been undermining me for centuries and it took a knock from that rebellious son of mine for me to see it. I need to know what they said to you exactly. Try to focus on those conversations for me."
Crowley knew what was coming and he fought figuratively tooth and nail as Lucifer pressed his true form into Crowley's. Probably the only thing his struggles served to do was to make the process hurt more.
Lucifer dove into his essence, to his memories of the time he had been cut off from his usual access to Lucifer, the interaction he had with the two Princes, and the punishment he had been given when he had asked questions as to why all the sudden he was in longer in Satan's favor.
It was one of the longest torture sessions Crowley had ever been subjected to, passed back and forth like a toy between Hastur and Asmodeus. Nearly 75 years of every kind of torture known to Demonkind.
Crowley relived it in 15 minutes, every detail.
He came back to himself slowly, his true form remembering how to properly fill his corporeal body. He was laying on a very soft surface, wrapped in a warm blanket that smelled of books, dust, strong tea, and Angel.
He could hear Aziraphale scolding someone softly but viciously.
"Practically rape, honestly have you no shame?" Aziraphale hissed. "He put up with torture, torment, and all sorts of demeaning behavior from you and your side for millennia. Why is it so difficult to leave him alone?"
"I did not mean to hurt him. I needed information and I needed it not spun on his silver tongue. He would have downplayed it. He would have omitted key information. He has always played his cards close to the vest." Another voice responded, sounding taken aback by the tongue lashing. "But he fought me, despite knowing he could not win."
Aziraphale sucked in an outraged breath."So it's his fault? How dare you!"
The second voice back-peddled."That isn't what I said."
Aziraphale placed a teacup and saucer none too gently down on the table. "Could have deceived me. The absolute nerve of you!"Aziraphale was getting indignant. " Coming into my shop, having injured my friend do and blaming him!" The fussy angel huffed dramatically.
The second voice made several aborted attempts at speech before he managed to get out. "Are you sure you are an angel?"
Crowley chuckled and slurred "An aardvark."
"Oh Crowley! You are awake, dear boy!" Aziraphale nearly upended a chair trying to get away from the table. "How do you feel?"
Crowley opened his eyes, everything was very blurry including a very anxious Angel "Disconnected... memories are all wobbly."
"That is to be expected," Aziraphale said soothingly as he rearranged the heavy quilt over Crowley's chest. "You've had a trying day." He smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of the fabric of the quilt.
Crowley tried to drag up the events of the day. "Did I get you pear tarts?" He vaguely recalled driving to L'ETO...
Aziraphale made a sound like a whistling tea kettle, his fingers digging into the fabric of the top layer of Crowley's chest. "You tried dear boy, but SOMEONE interrupted you."
Crowley tried to focus but he didn't have the energy. "Angel..." His eyes decided to try and slide shut.
"It's alright Crowley, go back to sleep."
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