[Thread - What's It Feel Like to Be a Ghost?]

[gone-native.livejournal.com]

Who: Henry (h_townshend) & Crowley gone_native)
What: meeting again (all parties corporeal)
When: friday \o/
Where: roof
Rating: PG13?


Crowley had, once again, not been up to anything in particular. He'd flipped through the journal some, attempted to start some book or another than Aziraphale had nagged him about reading about a century or so back, picked at something resembling a meal, and even managed to get in a brief nap. Not a bad day, considering he was still missing, and worried about, Henry.

The visit the other day had been a nice reassurance, but it also served to make this next day without the man a little worse than it might have been without. Or that was how it felt, anyway.

After going back up and attempting to read the same line of the same paragraph for the sixth or seventh time, Crowley gave up and reached for the journal again. Maybe somebody would have something intelligent, or at least midly entertaining, to say now, a few hours after he'd last been through it.

The entry he found waiting for him wasn't exactly what he'd been expecting.

Glancing over the page initially, he almost missed it. He only came back and caught it because it had been written by Ruby. He'd enjoyed their bit of existential conversation the other day, and was curious as to what the dragon had to say. Even more interesting, it was another entry filtered to him alone. Well. Alright then.

Laying the journal down and standing (he'd been sitting for awhile and it was becoming bothersome), the demon read the entry. Then he read it again. And again, a third time, just to insure that his eyes weren't merely making of the words what he would have wanted. But no - there it was, as plain as anything:

'Henry is on the roof.' and 'He's solid again.'

He didn't even notice that she'd called him 'Girlfriend'. Dictating a hasty reply, Crowley moved to the window. Opening it quickly, and getting on the ledge, he forced out his wings and took himself up the however-many-it-was-now flights to the roof. Landing, and drawing in the appendages enough to stay out of his way, Crowley stopped dead in his tracks.

Henry. A very real, very corporeal Henry.

The demon gave a sigh of relief and began to walk over.

Comments

[h-townshend.livejournal.com]

How long had it been since Ruby had left him alone on the roof? Henry didn't know, and wasn't much in a frame of mind to debate it with himself.

After the dragon's departure he'd stayed put for a few minutes, anyway, as he'd been told to do. Before long, however, the realization that he was alone, on the roof, finally caught up to him.

Alone. Again.

Henry drew his knees up to his chest and sat there silently for a few more minutes, trying to keep his mind blank, gripping his arms hard as if he could somehow keep a hold on calm itself. On sanity itself. The longer he waited, though, the harder his fingers wrenched down on his arms, and the whiter his knuckles grew. The silence up here was deafening, and there was only so long he could keep his mind empty.

And when he couldn't do that anymore, everything began to filter in again.

He was now grasping his own arms hard enough that if he'd taken the time to remove his long-sleeved overshirt there would have been red marks.

So quiet up here. So empty.

There wasn't any place to hide, either. No real corners or crannies to back himself into, because it was a roof for God's sake and by its very nature it was exposed. His eyes darted in all directions, looking for someplace to hide, but there was nothing. He bit his lower lip to fight back a sort of whimper that had risen in his throat, more out of reflex than anything because there was no one here to hear him.

By the time Crowley appeared, Henry was in no real state to notice. His head was down, his shaggy brown hair concealing his eyes. He was in the exact same clothing he'd been wearing a week ago, the morning of his disappearance: a plain light grey t-shirt and faded blue jeans with a darker grey long-sleeved shirt thrown over top (collar flipped up as always). His knees were bent and his arms crossed tight over his chest, fingers roughly gripping his biceps. His knuckles were white from the effort.

Have to hold on. Can't let go.

He didn't know what exactly would happen if he let go, but it would probably be bad.

Everything else was.

[gone-native.livejournal.com]

He stopped walking about halfway between where he had touched down on the roof and where Henry sat bunched up. Something was wrong. Very and seriously wrong, although even saying it that way was more than likely putting it far too lightly.

Crowley knew Henry had been alone. Knew, of course, from notonly the word being written on the mirror but also by the fact that, well, who wouldn' feel as if the entire world had abandoned them when one could neither be seen by the majority of the population, nor talk to any of it?

But how should he go about getting the man's attention? Very carefully, for one. He knew he needed to get it, of course, but Crowley just didn't want to accidently do, or say, anything to make the situation worse than it was. If that was even possible. It didn't seem likely, but knowing how Paradisa was...

But he didn't have a whole lot of time for thought and speculation, did he? Not with the way Henry was holding onto himself like he would drift away if not anchored down firmly.

Catiously, but as quickly as he could manage without (hopefully) being startling, Crowley made his way next to Henry's side. He almost reached out for, and touched the man, when he withdrew his hand and had a better idea.

Taking himself to right in front of the other, Crowley knelt down and simply wrapped his arms around his huddled boyfriend.

"Henry?" he asked quietly. "Henry, it's Crowley. Ruby went and got me, alright? That's why she left. But I'm here now, okay? Henry...Can you hear me?"

[h-townshend.livejournal.com]

There were arms around him again, but these were different than the ones earlier. Larger this time, more to scale with his own. Warm, but not quite as warm. Strong, but not quite as disproportionately strong as the girl's had been. And familiar, much more familiar than the ones earlier.

A familiar smell, too, one that always made him think of wine and autumn. Autumn was his favorite season, after all.

And just visible in his field of vision, above the other man's shoulder, black feathers. Black wings.

"Henry, it's Crowley."

For the second time in a matter of hours, Henry forgot how to breathe.

How many times had he wanted to be in this exact circumstance, wrapped up in these exact arms, during the last week? Too many times to count, really. The most he'd been able to manage was a poorly scrawled, half-finished love letter written in the fog on a mirror and the barest hint of a kiss. And now here he was, real and solid again, and Crowley was really here and he was really touching him. Touching him for the love of God. Hugging.

...and as luck (or lack thereof) would have it, his own hands were so badly stiffened from clawing at himself that he could barely pull them away from his arms to return the embrace. The most he could manage at the moment was to let them drop to his sides so that his arms weren't crossed over his chest any more. It had been a defensive gesture after all, and the arms around him right now were more of a shield than anything he could do himself.

"Henry...Can you hear me?"

He exhaled, finally, and leaned into the embrace a little, letting his cheek graze against the demon's. His eyes closed as he savored the feeling. It was all he could do to force himself to nod in reply to Crowley's question.

[gone-native.livejournal.com]

He'd been worried, for a moment or two, at how Henry was going to react, not only to being touched but to being spoken to. When his first words were acknowledged with the man's arms lowering, and the rest by Henry moving slightly closer, Crowley relaxed. He closed his eyes and hugged the other to him a little more firmly then before. It was the demon's turn to worry about certain people disappearing, or drifting away without being held down.

But the castle didn't repeat losses, did it? Not to the same person, at least, so everything would be fine...For awhile, at least. And things could get back to something that resembled normal. And Crowley could decide to not let Henry out of his sight for a day or two as well. Just in case.

But the roof, while certainly useful, was not the most idyll of places to have a reunion. And the worn out man in his arms looked like he needed an additional week just to sleep. Just letting go without saying anything, however, wouldn't have been smart at all.

"Henry." Crowley said, and loosened his hold just a bit. "Can you stand up?" The way the demon was seeing things, there were two ways they could get back down to room 904. "There's a couple of ways we can get you back home...and only one seems like it's any kind of a good idea." He hadn't actually carried someone with him, other than little Kohaku, in a long, long time...

Crowley's wings unfolded behind him, as if to get the idea across.

[h-townshend.livejournal.com]

He could have sat that way forever, wrapped in the other's arms. Not kissing, not playing or rough-housing or teasing or anything of the sort, just embracing and enjoying the closeness and the contact. Had they ever actually done this? Henry couldn't remember off-hand, he didn't think so, but made a mental note to make sure that it happened a lot more often.

Inside he was still as raw and confused as before. There was too much going on there, too many emotions and memories colliding, for everything to simply dissipate or heal over at the arrival of a loved one. No, it was going to take more than a hug to get over this.

The hug...was a good start, though.

With Crowley here the loneliness faded to a particularly nasty memory as opposed to a reality. Henry didn't know how long it would take for it to return, were he to be left alone again, but he tried not to think of it. He wasn't alone, not right now, and that was what was important.

And now that the loneliness had faded, just a bit, it made room for a couple more feelings to push their way in. The stomachache he'd felt earlier bit into his abdomen, drawing a slight wince from the man. Even stronger, however, was the fatigue. He'd exhausted himself trying to contact his friends over the past week. The last time in particular, writing his little confession to Crowley on the mirror, had taken more out of him than was probably safe. A deep weariness settled over him, without the ache of being alone and afraid to keep him sharp. His breathing slowed and had his eyes not already been closed his eyelids probably would have fallen.

Crowley loosened his grip on Henry just a little, though at this point Henry was too tired and wrung out to do more than moan a little in complaint. He opened his eyes, finally, though it was more of an effort than it should have been to keep them open.

Crowley's wings were opening.

Getting back down...was he serious? There was no way Crowley could carry him! Henry's eyebrows knit together in concern but he merely nodded again in reply, using a hand to push himself slowly upward into a shaky standing position.

[gone-native.livejournal.com]

It wasn't much of a response, but it was good enough. For the time being, anyway. Hopefully, all Henry really needed right now, besides someone with him, was sleep. Sleep, and probably something to eat. It had been lunch time when he'd suddenly not shown up, hadn't it?

Crowley, being mindful to not actually just let go of Henry at any one time, positioned himself so that one of the man's arm was draped across his shoulders. With his free arm, the demon supported Henry, holding him up around the middle.

It was slow going, walking with the other to the same edge he had just recently descended on, but heading off from the flat of the roof didn't seem like a good plan. Nearing the last foot or so before a sheer drop down the length of the castle, Crowley tightened his grip.

"Hold on, if you can." came the instruction. "And try not to move too much."

He got the feeling that Henry probably wouldn't have been moving a whole lot, even if he was feeling like his more usual self, but Crowley had felt the need to say something anyway. It was, in all honestly, just as much for him as it was the other man. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd tried something like this, and if there had been any other way that didn't involve leaving Henry up there again he would have taken that road instead.

Not giving himself any more time to contemplate the possibilities of success or failure, Crowley stepped off the ledge...and for a good few seconds, they were simply falling.

Oh, irony. Hadn't he done that once already?

Wings extending, and pushing against the air strongly, Crowley, after a second or two more of just drop, was able to slow everything.

While adjusting to the additional weight that was his 'passenger', the demon began lowering at an almost leisurely pace, afraid to go much faster. He was looking for...

There. There, just a few more floors beneath them - the open window he had first gone through.

Vaguely hoping that there weren't a ton of nosy residents peering out of their own windows, Crowley gave Henry a small smile and took them down to the opening.

[h-townshend.livejournal.com]

It was only the command "try not to move too much" that kept Henry from wrapping himself around Crowley and clinging to the demon as they stepped off the edge of the castle.

His mind boggled at the distance down to the ground when they approached the drop off. He really shouldn't have looked, most likely, but it was hard not to when he realized that yes indeed, Crowley was seriously planning to take them down this way. Even in his weary state he understood just how very bad this could go. Henry probably weighed just as much as Crowley himself, if not just a little more (without the wings factored in) considering the extra inch or two of height he had on the demon. And impressive though the wingspan was....

Couldn't they...you know, talk about this? There had to be--

And then they were falling off the side of the castle.

Henry fought the urge to wrap his other arm around the demon's neck and hold on for dear life, though just barely.

Thankfully it seemed, after a moment or two, that Crowley had everything well in hand. His wings seemed able to support the both of them (which was definitely a good thing) and they were in more of a controlled descent than an actual fall now. And down there, an open window that he could only assume was their's. Henry breathed a short sigh of relief when their feet touched the ledge and his free hand shot out to grip the edge of the window.

[gone-native.livejournal.com]

It was almost amusing, seeing Henry reach out and grab hold of the window like that. As worried as he himself had been, Crowley wouldn't have let anything happen to the man. Nothing he could help, anyway.

He stayed, half on, half off of the ledge until he was sure that the other was safely in a position to step down and be securely in the room. Then, the demon entered through the window himself, and hid his wings completely. At least he was finally getting some use out of them, after all the years?

Crowley closed the window, not even in the mood to leave it cracked, and turned his attention back to Henry. What first? Rest, most likely. Although he should probably let someone down in the kitchen know to have something handy.

"Nap time, Henry." the demon said. "We'll get you food after you get some sleep."

He didn't leave much room for arguments, not between the order itself and moving over to the bed, pulling back the covers.

"Everything else can wait."

And it could. Henry was back, and that was what mattered.