[ Crowley scowls over that text long and hard. Is he supposed to bring scotch or wine or something? It takes him a little while to think of what he should bring, but in the end he thinks of how much he wants Blake to be safe and just how easily he can place his own life in Blake's hands.
He gets a blank leather-bound book and spends the rest of the night writing out every useful sigil he can remember, from warding and protection to banishing.
By the time it's nearing midnight, he's just barely finished the book and he trudges outside to the maze with it under one arm. ]
[ He's an infuriating little bastard, isn't he? But Blake's always been particular about his company and how he presents himself to the world. Plus, he's always testing people, particularly Crowley. And honestly, when the demon arrives, he's very, very glad he didn't bring flowers.
Hands in his pockets, he doesn't even bother looking at his phone to see what time it is; he's been out here a while but he's pretty sure Crowley's on time. ]
Hey. Thanks for comin'.
[ If he's got something to offer Crowley, it's not in plain sight. ]
[ At least Blake doesn't seem outwardly angry. That could be good, but Crowley's never been much of an optimist. He's far too ruled by fear and insecurity.
This place has torn away so much of him, but it's given him new things, too, and one of those new thinks is one John Blake. ]
Yeah? [ He can't imagine what it is, but he figures he needs to give Crowley the opportunity to make his reveal. He gestures for the other man to come closer. They only have half a moon to light the way, but it's more than enough for eyes that have gotten used tot he dark. ] What'd you make me?
[ Crowley moves closer, leaning in towards Blake as he holds up the book. ]
It's a collection of sigils and spells, mostly protective, but a few more offensive one in case you need to fight off a demon or banish an angel from the room. If you have any questions or want more of anything, it's really just a sampling of what I thought would be most useful for you here.
[ And, yes, it contains a lot of things that can hurt or trap Crowley. ]
I want you safe and I... I trust you with all of this knowledge.
[ His voice is gentle and he fights back the urge to lean in more and seek out contact.
He doesn't know if this is Blake calling it quits or Blake forgiving him or a test or anything in between and that kills him. The extent to which he cares about this man is ridiculous for a creature like him and he wonders how much of that is clear. ]
[ With the book tucked under one arm, he reaches into his pocket with the other, and what he passes on the the demon is a rather simple wooden spool of dark thread. ]
Somethin' tells me you're familiar. [ For obvious reasons. ] You'd find a good use for that, right? Maybe mend a jacket or somethin'?
[ Stick with him on this line of questioning, Crowley, because it's obviously going somewhere. ]
[ Crowley takes the little spool with a low chuckle. ]
Certainly familiar, yes, though I can't say I've done any of my own tailoring in a long time.
[ He squeezes it tightly in his palm. It doesn't quite make sense to him yet, but he gets that it has something to do with his old human life, right? He doesn't really try to hide any details of his life from Blake. ]
[ Nodding in the direction of the nearest turn, he starts walking, guessing Crowley's willing to walk the maze with him a little while. ]
That's good. Good use of that thread, if you ask me. But... not the only use, right? Thread's actually pretty handy. Bet I could come up with as many useful applications as you've got here in this book.
We could find our way outta here usin' it like breadcrumbs. If you tie a piece from a drippin' faucet, it doesn't make a peep. Double it over, it's practically a garrote...
One of my favorite uses? Drawin' straight lines and perfect circles. That's versatile, if you ask me.
But it doesn't offer any kinda guarantees. [ He shakes his head. ] Your thread might break in the machine, or pullin' through the fabric. My string might lose tension, make more of a swish than a straight line, or an oval instead of a circle.
Just a tool in our hands, like everything else. Not good or bad.
I gotta ask, though, 'cause you're the professional. Isn't there a better tool for the job? If I say you oughta use fishin' line to craft up a suit, you couldn't deny it'd work, could you?
[ Crowley understands that it's a metaphor, but he also understands that Blake has clearly never used a bloody sewing machine if he thinks that would work. ]
For the purposes of your analogy, let's say that I couldn't, because I don't think being pedantic will serve us well here.
[ Crowley isn't always the most patient soul. He can play a long con and he can bide his time, but this sort of patience is a struggle for him. Still, Blake is worth the struggle and he can recognize that easily enough. ]
[ That's right, Crowley, you'd better be okay with biding your time. There's nothing worse than telling your scorned lover that he boring you with what he's come up with after days spent in a shallow pool of angst. ]
Yeah, exactly. But it's not recommended, clearly, 'cause you need the right tool for the job.
[ He comes to a stop, shrugging just a hair. ] Sounded better in my head.
Anyway, what I'm really tryin' to get at here is that I think you're using the wrong tool. And I thought I oughta remind you that's there's always options, even if they may not always be obvious.
[ Crowley isn't so sure that there is a better tool for his desired results, but he's also quite sure that having Blake on his side is important. Blake's been the source of so many of the good feelings that the blood has brought him. It's not worth it if he can't feel that anymore. ]
Maybe. Maybe you're right.
[ He looks at the thread in his hand. ]
I'm... out and I'm not looking to get any more. I understand why you think I should have told you, but I hope you also understand why I felt that I couldn't.
[ Finally, his eyes wander back to Blake and he lets all the unsure vulnerability show that he always keeps so tightly tucked away under tailored suits and swagger. ]
Trust me, 'cause I earned that. 'Cause you earned that. 'Cause we're in this together. 'Cause I—
[ John laughs. He's been going in circles for days now and he hadn't known the right answer then, and he's pretty certain he still doesn't, but Wonderland be damned if he's isn't going to choose the selfish option for once. ]
—I need you. An' you sure as Hell need me right back.
Yeah, but what can I say really? Just lectured you usin' some string an' every bit of nonsense I've got. Once a cop, always a cop, I guess.
[ John meanders back into a strolling gait and lets his mind settle a little. They're not better, not even by half, but it's a step in the right direction as far as he's concerned. ]
Beyond all that, I'm sorry. You deserve an apology for me actin' so defensive. Didn't— didn't wanna face the idea that you might not've been you all this time. I was... hurt, and concerned, but I know now that wasn't me bein' fair to you.
[ Blake's not without blame and he feels that's important for him to acknowledge before they get much further ahead of themselves. ]
[ He does stop and he does turn, but he's still processing and settling and trying to make heads or tales of all of this, so it's certain;y not the same affection he's offered before. But, at least he's not pulling away. ]
You'd work it out, but that's not somethin' either of us are worryin' 'bout.
[ Honestly, John doesn't expect to be going home any time soon. ]
Uh huh. How's that s'posed to be news to me? [ There's a moment where he can't help himself and actually rolls his eyes, but he's forcing down a smile himself, especially with Crowley right there. ] Some things never change.
[ Crowley presses the rest of the way in until he's pressed against Blake and pushing him back into a hedge wall with a bruising kiss. He's wanted this for days, desperately and completely.
He doesn't think he's really changed so much. He's still number one. It's just that Blake's become number two. There's no shame in not being alone. ]
[ Number two? Crowley must still be operating on a level that's one part denial and one part confusion, because he just spent the last couple days proving that he's willing to put someone else ahead of him. How does that not ensure Blake's number one? Hmph!
Needless to say, the physical aspects have always been easier for the former cop, so when he gets pressed into the hedges, he goes willingly, even if he's half-eaten by leaves and branches. Really, though, Blake has no complaints, just lingering concerns about his ability to forgive this particular person a lot quicker than anyone else.
He kisses back, altogether relieved that things aren't quite as complicated anymore, even if he does still have questions. ]
[ Crowley sighs into the kiss, tension oozing out of him as he presses against Blake, who (he can at least admit to himself) he's ridiculously fond of.
Pulling back, his smile is just a little brighter. ]
I'll have you know that the dog's been very cross with me this whole time. I think she knew that I'd hurt you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text;
He gets a blank leather-bound book and spends the rest of the night writing out every useful sigil he can remember, from warding and protection to banishing.
By the time it's nearing midnight, he's just barely finished the book and he trudges outside to the maze with it under one arm. ]
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Hands in his pockets, he doesn't even bother looking at his phone to see what time it is; he's been out here a while but he's pretty sure Crowley's on time. ]
Hey. Thanks for comin'.
[ If he's got something to offer Crowley, it's not in plain sight. ]
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[ At least Blake doesn't seem outwardly angry. That could be good, but Crowley's never been much of an optimist. He's far too ruled by fear and insecurity.
This place has torn away so much of him, but it's given him new things, too, and one of those new thinks is one John Blake. ]
I... made you something.
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It's a collection of sigils and spells, mostly protective, but a few more offensive one in case you need to fight off a demon or banish an angel from the room. If you have any questions or want more of anything, it's really just a sampling of what I thought would be most useful for you here.
[ And, yes, it contains a lot of things that can hurt or trap Crowley. ]
I want you safe and I... I trust you with all of this knowledge.
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This is nice. Thank you. [ He's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, and the gravity isn't lost on him. ]
You wanna see what I brought, then?
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[ His voice is gentle and he fights back the urge to lean in more and seek out contact.
He doesn't know if this is Blake calling it quits or Blake forgiving him or a test or anything in between and that kills him. The extent to which he cares about this man is ridiculous for a creature like him and he wonders how much of that is clear. ]
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Somethin' tells me you're familiar. [ For obvious reasons. ] You'd find a good use for that, right? Maybe mend a jacket or somethin'?
[ Stick with him on this line of questioning, Crowley, because it's obviously going somewhere. ]
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Certainly familiar, yes, though I can't say I've done any of my own tailoring in a long time.
[ He squeezes it tightly in his palm. It doesn't quite make sense to him yet, but he gets that it has something to do with his old human life, right? He doesn't really try to hide any details of his life from Blake. ]
I think I remember what to do.
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That's good. Good use of that thread, if you ask me. But... not the only use, right? Thread's actually pretty handy. Bet I could come up with as many useful applications as you've got here in this book.
You believe that?
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I'm sure you could, darling.
[ Blake is smart and resourceful. Even with all his old tailoring knowledge, he doesn't doubt that Blake could come up with more uses than he could. ]
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One of my favorite uses? Drawin' straight lines and perfect circles. That's versatile, if you ask me.
But it doesn't offer any kinda guarantees. [ He shakes his head. ] Your thread might break in the machine, or pullin' through the fabric. My string might lose tension, make more of a swish than a straight line, or an oval instead of a circle.
Just a tool in our hands, like everything else. Not good or bad.
I gotta ask, though, 'cause you're the professional. Isn't there a better tool for the job? If I say you oughta use fishin' line to craft up a suit, you couldn't deny it'd work, could you?
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For the purposes of your analogy, let's say that I couldn't, because I don't think being pedantic will serve us well here.
[ Crowley isn't always the most patient soul. He can play a long con and he can bide his time, but this sort of patience is a struggle for him. Still, Blake is worth the struggle and he can recognize that easily enough. ]
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Yeah, exactly. But it's not recommended, clearly, 'cause you need the right tool for the job.
[ He comes to a stop, shrugging just a hair. ] Sounded better in my head.
Anyway, what I'm really tryin' to get at here is that I think you're using the wrong tool. And I thought I oughta remind you that's there's always options, even if they may not always be obvious.
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Maybe. Maybe you're right.
[ He looks at the thread in his hand. ]
I'm... out and I'm not looking to get any more. I understand why you think I should have told you, but I hope you also understand why I felt that I couldn't.
[ Finally, his eyes wander back to Blake and he lets all the unsure vulnerability show that he always keeps so tightly tucked away under tailored suits and swagger. ]
I really don't know what I'm supposed to do now.
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Trust me, 'cause I earned that. 'Cause you earned that. 'Cause we're in this together. 'Cause I—
[ John laughs. He's been going in circles for days now and he hadn't known the right answer then, and he's pretty certain he still doesn't, but Wonderland be damned if he's isn't going to choose the selfish option for once. ]
—I need you. An' you sure as Hell need me right back.
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You'll get no argument from me.
[ The corner of his mouth twitches. ]
And I do trust you, but old habits die hard sometimes.
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[ John meanders back into a strolling gait and lets his mind settle a little. They're not better, not even by half, but it's a step in the right direction as far as he's concerned. ]
Beyond all that, I'm sorry. You deserve an apology for me actin' so defensive. Didn't— didn't wanna face the idea that you might not've been you all this time. I was... hurt, and concerned, but I know now that wasn't me bein' fair to you.
[ Blake's not without blame and he feels that's important for him to acknowledge before they get much further ahead of themselves. ]
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[ He reaches for Blake's wrist, stopping and trying to urge him to turn. ]
You make this place a lot more bearable for me.
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You'd work it out, but that's not somethin' either of us are worryin' 'bout.
[ Honestly, John doesn't expect to be going home any time soon. ]
We're okay, then? Okay as we're gonna be, I mean?
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I'd like us to be.
[ He doesn't want to work out Wonderland without Blake. He wants to keep Blake as close as he can. ]
And I'd like to kiss you.
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What's stoppin' you, anyway?
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[ Crowley presses the rest of the way in until he's pressed against Blake and pushing him back into a hedge wall with a bruising kiss. He's wanted this for days, desperately and completely.
He doesn't think he's really changed so much. He's still number one. It's just that Blake's become number two. There's no shame in not being alone. ]
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Needless to say, the physical aspects have always been easier for the former cop, so when he gets pressed into the hedges, he goes willingly, even if he's half-eaten by leaves and branches. Really, though, Blake has no complaints, just lingering concerns about his ability to forgive this particular person a lot quicker than anyone else.
He kisses back, altogether relieved that things aren't quite as complicated anymore, even if he does still have questions. ]
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Pulling back, his smile is just a little brighter. ]
I'll have you know that the dog's been very cross with me this whole time. I think she knew that I'd hurt you.
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