Out of all of the things that Crowley had just said, one of them was so much more important and frightening than the others. He doesn’t care to debate about the Damned tree and what it should or shouldn’t be able to do—a moot point regardless when none of the things it does from the start should be possible.
“Replace you?” Aziraphale asks, repeating the words back to the demon. Just saying it makes his skin feel cold, the warmth draining from him at the idea that not only would an extended period without the bracelets have removed Crowley from existence, but it would have put another in his place.
Aziraphale doesn’t think he could possibly hate an idea more than he hates that one. For as much trouble as Crowley is, he occupies such a special and unique space in Aziraphale’s life and in his heart. No one else could possibly fill that role.
It was only Crowley. There was no point in anyone else.
“Crowley,” he starts, moving to gently place his hand over Crowley's on his leg. It's a gentle thing, soft and undemanding with room for him to pull away. This likely isn't the Right Time that Aziraphale had been wanting to wait for, but if there were ever time that Crowley needed confirmation of how important he was, he imagines it would be now. “What makes you think it was going to replace you?”
no subject
Out of all of the things that Crowley had just said, one of them was so much more important and frightening than the others. He doesn’t care to debate about the Damned tree and what it should or shouldn’t be able to do—a moot point regardless when none of the things it does from the start should be possible.
“Replace you?” Aziraphale asks, repeating the words back to the demon. Just saying it makes his skin feel cold, the warmth draining from him at the idea that not only would an extended period without the bracelets have removed Crowley from existence, but it would have put another in his place.
Aziraphale doesn’t think he could possibly hate an idea more than he hates that one. For as much trouble as Crowley is, he occupies such a special and unique space in Aziraphale’s life and in his heart. No one else could possibly fill that role.
It was only Crowley. There was no point in anyone else.
“Crowley,” he starts, moving to gently place his hand over Crowley's on his leg. It's a gentle thing, soft and undemanding with room for him to pull away. This likely isn't the Right Time that Aziraphale had been wanting to wait for, but if there were ever time that Crowley needed confirmation of how important he was, he imagines it would be now. “What makes you think it was going to replace you?”