realityshifted | Dossier Twenty-two

Entry tags:

gunslinger girl (da) henrietta

Dossier Twenty-two

[Here be Henrietta, looking... sort of out of it. Well, not sort of out of it. Really, really out of it, and hugging the P90 against herself. She doesn't say anything, doesn't really move, just looks up at the sky with the gun cradled in her arms.]

[[SOOOO thanks to this thread, Henrietta is somewhat brainbroken and liable to snap/kill things if she doesn't slip into her Movie Persona(tm) first. The only people she's really interested in... uh... killing, are Hei, Crowley and Chris. But she can potentially be set off by anyone. And she's had her head messed with a bit by the Big Bad Bosses of our B-Movie, IE Beelzebub (yeah, yeah, we know) and Wyatt Halliwell. So. Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here?]]

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[She shakes her head.] I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry--

[Sounding a bit weary now, but hey—he had to make sure she wasn't still homicidal. Mostly because:]

It's...it's all right. Just. Do me a favour, will you? Go find the angel?

Okay. Okay. I can do that. [She backs away slowly, then turns around and starts running.]

[...bugger. He'd meant to tell her that if they couldn't find him here to check the flat. He'll just have to hope they figure that part out :|]

[Crowley drops back to the flat and drags himself into the bedroom, trailing blood along the white carpet. Despite the fact that the bed is where Henrietta's been sleeping recently, he crawls up into it with some amount of effort and curls up.]

[Azipharale does think to check the flat soon enough, and once there is all too easy to follow the trail of blood and wings, Henrietta trailing behind him. He can't find it in himself to tell her to wait outside even if he'd rather not have her...what, see Crowley in pain? Not risk her hurting him again?

He doesn't linger on that train of thought for too long, because it's about then that he reaches the bedroom. For a moment all he can do is stare wide-eyed at the figure on the bed. He breaks out of it and begins approaching, speaking softly] Crowley, I need you to stretch out on the bed. I need to be able to see the injuries before I can heal them.

[She's busy staring at the ground and picking up every feather she can find, wiping her eyes, dropping them, picking them up again, and still apologizing under her breath.]

[The bed is a mess of blood from the two gunshot wounds, blood staining most of Crowley's white shirt on one side and starting to pool under him on the sheets. He's cradling his left arm, one leg is splayed out differently than the other, and one wing isn't laying quite right either.]

[He's only partially conscious at this point, both from blood loss and from trying to sleep. At the sound of voices he blinks.]

You made it. Hi.

Oh, Crowley......[The angel is by his bedside now. As gently as he can, he reaches up and brushes hi hand against the leg, arm, then wing; they both heal almost instantly. The gunshot wounds take a bit more effort, and he has to leave his hand pressed against his chest for a few moments.

When he finally pulls it back, both injuries now healed, the palm is covered in blood. He can't help but examine the sight in morbid fascination].....I can't remember the last time I saw you this injured. I don't think I cared much for you back then. [His tone is, if anything, little more than a mumble]

[Approaches timidly, her arms full of feathers. She's almost too scared to speak.]

You're okay? [To Azi:] He's okay? He's going to be, right?

[Crowley blinks again, this time more sleepily than anything. Aziraphale may have done most of the work there, but it takes a body a certain amount of energy to heal that much tissue and regenerate that much blood, angel or no.]

Fine. Told you everything would be fine, didn' I?

[He looks up at Aziraphale for a moment, probably the least guarded he's been around the angel for a while now, then looks away again.]

Owe you one.

[Eventually, he seems to come back to himself, a flick of his hand and all of the blood disappears]

He's going to be alright, don't worry. He just needs a bit of rest.

[There is a soft sigh, then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed. Performing miracles tends to require energy, especially the healing of a body] I'm afraid I can't clean up the living room and hallway; too many miracles at one time and Upstairs begins to take notice.

I'll do it. [The feathers get away from her again.] I can do it-- [She scrambles to pick them up.] I can get it. Where are the things, the cleaning supplies?

[slight hesitation]

Beneath the sink. In the kitchen.

[Which would have been a lie on any other day, but he's extended a little bit of effort to materialize some for her.]

[He thinks better than to argue, and just gives Henrietta a slight smile] Please don't push yourself to do this if you don't want to.

I can start cleaning up in a moment.

No, I can do it. [She stumbles out of the room, shedding feathers as she goes.]

Let her go. She needs something to focus on.

[A sigh turns into a yawn, and then he's staring at Aziraphale's back/wings]

Thanks.

[He watches her leave, but doesn't follow. There's no answer at first, just Aziraphale standing up and making his way to the other side of the bed. He brushes his fingers over the sheets, then then sits more comfortably than before, as well as his wings will allow him]

I don't like to see you injured.

[Crowley closes his eyes now that the angel's moved and there's nothing there to look at. Slowly he manages to kick off both of his shoes, and the coat disappears, banished off to Go— Sa— Someone only knows where. He makes a half-hearted attempt at pulling the covers up over himself.]

You can stay here, if you like. You sound tired.

[A slight smile and then the angel's reaching forward, pulling the covers over Crowley before settling back against the headboard]

Just a little drained, really. I'll be able to get up soon enough. [A pause] Though I don't have anywhere else to be at the moment

[The demon curls up a little under the covers, pulling his wings tighter to his back to leave room for the angel.]

Hmm. Good.

[He allows his own wings to stretch slightly, hands folding over his stomach. The last part surprises him, but outwardly it only earns a slight smile]

I'll be sure to be here when you wake up then.

[And before too long, the demon's breathing evens out and he's fast asleep.]

[And the angel stays there. He doesn't really shift or close his eyes, just leans back and thinks. Every so often he'll glance at Crowley, and once he even reaches forward and brushes a couple of strands of hair away from his eyes.

Mostly though, he just thinks and waits]

[Of course, it's probably hard to think and wait when something large and heavy-sounding goes smashing to the ground two rooms over.]

[He jumps at the sound, hesitating for a moment before getting up and making his way towards the source] Henrietta....?

Dossier Twenty-two

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