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wish i could feel things like you

Discussion in 'Pandora, Year 1 - 7' started by Crowley, Jul 7, 2018.

  1. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    JULY 17, YEAR 7​

    The Bazaar was packed with bodies, and it was easy to lose oneself in the hustle and bustle of it. Which was exactly what Crowley wanted at the moment, so he allowed the crowd to guide him from stall to stall, eyes skirting the wares with a notable lack of interest. Even with all the raging distractions around him, his mind was lingering obsessively on the gaping holes in his memory.

    Initially, they had been easy to ignore as Crowley had been caught up in the actual freedom of having his bloody autonomy back, but now that some few hours had passed, it was getting hard to overlook the way his thoughts kept wandering back to the prison and skipping like a janky CD. There was a low-grade headache brewing in his skull that seemed like it was going to be there for the long haul.

    And he had Simon fucking Lewis yipping at his heels, acting as if everything between them was hunky dory, when Crowley had been the sole reason that the boy had spent a month in that hellhole being tormented mercilessly. There was absolutely no getting through to the lad that it would be better for everyone if he just fucked off and didn't associate with Crowley anymore - or any demons, for that matter - and now he was walking with notable tension along his spine, aware that Simon could show up at any moment.

    At his heels, Juliet walked with a happy wiggle in her tush, alternating between a loving gaze to Crowley and a suspicious glare to everyone who brushed past them. By the time they had reached the far side of the Bazaar, where the wares were more suspicious and the crowds less prominent, the hound was panting from the stress of protecting him from imagined bogiemen and unseen threads. Crowley looked down at her, opening his mouth to make sure she was okay, only to be cut off when Juliet gave a tremendous howl of glee and took off without warning.

    That could only mean one thing, and Crowley's face twisted in agony, staring up at the cloudless sky for a few moments to please with someone to grant him patience. Then, turning his focus back to the world around him, the demon followed Juliet at a more sedate pace, just in time to see her launch herself gleefully at Simon. "I have a question, Simon: Do you ever listen to good advice?" Crowley snapped, rolling his eyes as Juliet continued to whimper in delight.

    @Simon Lewis



     
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  2. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
    crowley stresses me out

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    UNDERNEATH THIS SKIN
    i think i'm dying here

    Hunky dory probably wasn't the right term for the way Simon Lewis felt about everything that had happened. Nothing really felt hunky dory when he was waking up from a nightmare and having to remember where he was, and where he wasn't. But anybody who knew Simon knew that he enjoyed a more optimistic point of view, at least in the open. What was going on in his mind was a different story entirely. The time he'd spent in that prison had been the worst weeks of his life.

    False. But close. Actually dying had been the worst night of his life, and crawling out of a grave by himself had been the worst moment of his life.

    There was a wild difference between those two experiences, though. Once he'd gotten himself out of that grave, Simon had been entirely alone and entirely confused, which hadn't been the case at the prison. Not really, not completely. Crowley had brought him there and he'd provided him with basically nothing in the way of answers, but he'd still been there for the sake of keeping a scared kid company, and that meant more to Simon than he thought the demon realized. That was one of the reasons he was tracking him down now that he knew he was back and that all of that was over, behind them, and done with. And maybe he just really wanted to know that he was okay. He really, really wanted to know that he was okay.

    Process of elimination had landed him at the bazaar. Crowley was looking for dog chow, so it wasn't exactly rocket science, especially when he wasn't having much luck with the established pet stores around town. Simon hadn't been walking for long at all when he heard that howl of glee nearby, and while he didn't put two and two together right away, he did whirl around to find Juliet's familiar snout practically barreling into him. "Whoa! Hey, hi, nice to see you, too!" he laughed, having to regain his balance as he furiously pet the giant dog. It was easy to forget now how scary she'd been the first time he'd seen her. It was easy to forget how scary Crowley had been, too, back then.

    Then again ... thinking back, he hadn't been that scary, it was mostly the grunge witch.

    Speaking of Crowley, the grumpy demon's voice was easy to place and Simon couldn't help the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips as he turned his head. Now crouched on the ground as his hand was buried in Juliet's side, he had to crane his neck to look up at him. "Yeah, I do! Your advice just sucked."



     
  3. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    As much as he was inclined to bitch and moan about it, Crowley was infinitely grateful to see Simon, and he greedily looked the lad over despite his outward frustration. At face value, Simon seemed fine, which was better than he'd expected. Not that he had expected anything, since he had not intended to see him at all.

    But if he had expected anything, it would have been a PTSD-suffering, twitchy wreck. Not this.

    Crowley regarded Juliet's excitement dispassionately, torn between his immense disapproval that Simon would specifically go against what he told him to do, and the gaping holes in his memory that kept tripping up his thoughts. "Oh, my advice sucks. 'Gee, Si, maybe you oughtn't go see the demon that kidnapped you that one time, that didn't turn out well, did it' wasn't good advice to you, yeah? Fuck off." The demon spat viciously, folding his arms across his chest.

    Juliet, sensing his hostility, looked up with a scathing gaze that only fueled his annoyance. "So, what, you're happy to wait for the next idiot with a cursed nail to abscond with my free will? Common sense would suggest that cutting your losses would be the smart plan, Simon." Crowley said tiredly, rubbing a hand over his face.

    "How in blazes did you even find me, anyway?"
    @Simon Lewis



     
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  4. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
    crowley stresses me out

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    Okay, so Crowley was pissed. To be fair, that was understandable. In his shoes, Simon probably wouldn't have wanted the kid he'd been forced to kidnap anywhere near him either. But Crowley wasn't just anybody. He was somebody he cared about, and somebody who cared about him, even if he was reluctant to admit that was the case. He was somebody who had helped as much as he could in the difficult situation that they had both been in, and that meant something. For a long time, Simon had struggled to set aside his own anger for having been there because of Crowley, but in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't because of Crowley at all. It was more complicated than that.

    "Don't worry, I'm not here for you, I'm here for the dog," he told him, but everything about that statement was hopelessly sarcastic. He was doing a great job unintentionally hiding it, though, as he poured his focus into aggressively petting Juliet, not even worrying about staying standing anymore. He was on his knees now, latching onto the big hellhound and digging into those pets.

    But then his gaze flicked back to Crowley. "Kidding," he murmured. "Honestly, it was a lucky guess. And then I heard you bickering with Juliet from a few blocks away, and I mean ... there's no hiding from that, right? Maybe she set you up." A grin appeared there on his lips as he looked back to Juliet, giving her some extra scratches the behind the ears. "Were you a good girl, did you set up your daddy to be found by me? Yes you were, yes you were!"



     
  5. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    To be fair, as far as Juliet was concerned at the moment, Simon really was just there to give her as much love as possible, and Crowley rolled his eyes in exasperation as the hellhound started producing a tremendous, roiling purr deep in her chest, leaning her full weight into the scratches with her back leg merrily slapping against the ground. Then, flipping her head up, she stared at Crowley upside-down with her tongue lolling stupidly over her nose.

    Folding his arms tight against his chest, the demon glowered at the two of them crossly, valiantly resisting the urge to not be pissed off. Nevertheless, there was a tendril of relief that was swelling whether he liked it or not, eclipsing his anger with ease because Simon was all right. Simon was a little shit, yes, but he was a little shit who seemed to be fairing remarkably well for a lad who had recently undergone weeks worth of torture.

    His head swiveled to glare at Juliet, who was properly grinning now in her own doggy way, tongue halfway to the ground as Simon rubbed her ears and she groaned loudly in agreement, exposing her enormous fangs with an unmistakable, low, coughing laugh. "You fat cow. You overstepped." Crowley snarled, and immediately the hound's expression sobered and she whined loudly, standing up to circle around Simon, clearly unsure if there would be a punishment attached to the threatening tone.

    But Crowley simply rubbed a hand over his face, feeling tired and a bit overwhelmed, and his head was still throbbing violently against the missing memories his mind kept tripping over. "Well, since you're here being a nuisance anyway, if you have any questions, now's the time to ask them. Whatever I know, I'll share." Crowley offered dismally.
    @Simon Lewis



     
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  6. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
    crowley stresses me out

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    UNDERNEATH THIS SKIN
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    Was he okay?

    It was a loaded question that he didn't really want anybody asking. Not that he would answer truthfully. Or maybe he would, he'd just stretch the truth a little bit or just focus on the good bits. There were some. Mostly the fact that he was alive. That was sort of it when he really stopped to think about it. The nightmares sucked. His body was healed, but sometimes he felt that tell-tale phantom pain that reminded him of what he'd been through. But smiling was something Simon was good at. Telling people he was okay, that was something he was good at. Telling himself, not so much, but that didn't matter as much as far as he was concerned.

    And hey, Crowley was okay, too. Grumpy, but where was the shock in that? That was just Crowley, and the Crowley inside of that jail had been very Crowley, too, just with an added element of kidnapping and secrecy that Simon realistically knew couldn't have been his fault. That was where his offer for answers came in, though, and suddenly, the vampire's top priority didn't seem to be the dog enjoying her aggressive pets at his side. Instead, it was this demon who had both kidnapped him, befriended him, kidnapped him again, set him free, and-- God, it was just really confusing, but the fact alone that Simon had come back said a lot. He liked to think he knew who his friends and his enemies were.

    Crowley wasn't his enemy.

    Whatever smile had been there on his face was gone, but he didn't look angry either. It was a softer expression, one that felt a little bit more vulnerable, the kind that was just asking 'why why why' over and over again. "I just ... I wanna know everything. That explanation I begged you for ... for weeks. I just wanna know why everything that happened ... happened." There had been a time during the first week or so that Simon expected the process of answering to be a simple one, but since he'd been given exactly zero answers, that assumption had been proven so incredibly false.



     
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  7. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    Crowley honestly had no desire to discuss anything with Simon on an open, public street, but the idea of finding somewhere private was, quite honestly, bloody terrifying. Every time he thought about clapping a hand on the lad's shoulder and whisking him away, Crowley's mind immediately supplied that dingy cell as a destination.

    Really, the demon simply wasn't in the right headspace to teleport anyone anywhere. Not now. Probably not for a while. So he simply gazed at Simon sadly, reading into the boy's expression with practiced ease. "I'm warning you now, Simon... there's no big, glowing reason." Crowley warned hoarsely, raising one hand to anxiously pick at the sleeve of the other.

    A street was probably better than anywhere else. The pedestrians acted like a privacy wall in their own way, and Crowley took an awkward step closer to Simon, making sure to still leave an excess of six feet between them. "It was that fucking doppelganger that started the whole thing. I was summoned, and this was stuck into my chest." He pulled the long iron stake spike out of his pocket and absently tossed it towards Simon.

    "It was the anchor to a binding spell, and someone else had the other end of the leash and a vendetta against supernatural filth." His nose wrinkled, recalling how prevelent that word had been. "I was asked if I knew of any supernatural creatures... and yours was the first name I blurted. I didn't have a choice." It was one thing to feel like Qrow and Toby might not believe him, but Simon was a very different case. He needed Simon to understand that the reins had never been in Crowley's hands.

    "You weren't the only person I took. There are dozens. I... the only reason was because someone hates anything inhuman. But I don't know who. There was a secondary spell..." Without thinking, Crowley massaged his temple with a grimace, fighting over the gaps in his memory. "I don't remember anything about who or where. I stayed for a month trying to find something I could use, but..." He wiltrd a bit, looking and feeling pathetic.

    "I'm sorry, Si. I couldn't find a damn thing to hold against them. I don't even know who them is."
    @Simon Lewis



     
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  8. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
    crowley stresses me out

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    UNDERNEATH THIS SKIN
    i think i'm dying here

    It was possible that Simon wasn't as okay as he seemed. In fact, it was probably very likely Simon wasn't as okay as he seemed. It was easier out here to pretend, out here where there was open space and room for him to pretend. Other things to distract himself with, though it was hard to distract himself from the nightmares. The only solution was not to sleep at all and that didn't seem like such a solution at all. Still, it didn't really matter much, did it? Either he looked tired for refusing to sleep or he looked tired for not being able to sleep. It was sort of a lose lose situation. It could've been worse, he would tell himself. He could've been dead. But he remembered asking himself if dead would've been better than what he'd be dealt with in there.

    He wouldn't say that to Crowley, though, even if there was still some uneasiness there. Maybe there was a reason he'd decided to venture out to find him in the public of a street and not behind four walls, just the two of them. Maybe Simon wouldn't even admit to himself that he still flashed back to the day the demon had come to get him, slapped his hand onto his shoulder, and put him in that cell.

    But there was an explanation, even if there wasn't a glowing reason, as Crowley put it. Simon's brow furrowed as he hurriedly caught the iron stake he was tossed with his hands, staring down at it, lifting it to eye level and turning it around. It was hard to imagine something like this being the thing that was to blame for everything. This, not Crowley. Not Crowley who had arguably done him harm in the past, though not the physical time. Things had been different then, though, because that had been Hela with the reigns and the demon had considered her completely off the walls insane, too. They'd at least been on the same page there.

    Somehow, he and Crowley had graduated from whatever he'd been then to whatever they were now. Neither was something he could put words to, though.

    "... Can this thing still do anything?" he asked. It wasn't the first thought in his head, but it felt like it was the most important thing if not for the fact that if somebody got their hands on it and Crowley ended up in the same position again, they were probably all screwed. He heard his apology, he did, and in his head, he knew it was okay. He understood, but saying it out loud somehow felt different, like he was brushing aside everything that had happened. Which was stupid, he knew it was stupid in the same way it was stupid to consider blaming all of this on a demon stuck in a shitty situation. The whole thing was a mess and Simon didn't know where his head was at yet.



     
  9. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    Crowley wasn't sure if there could be a worse feeling than this curious amalgamation of shite that formed his current mood. While everything he felt at the moment was sour and unpleasant, it was the sensation of experiencing it all together that was really something else.

    After all, Crowley had been pathetic before. He'd spent plenty of time as little more than a maggot beneath the boot of something far superior to himself. Yet, he had never been made to feel so pathetic next to someone like Simon, who was convinced, erroneously, that Crowley was on par with gods.

    He'd been frustrated before, and he had been deprived of information he desperately, obsessively desired, but it had never felt so dismal as it did now. He had never been so uncomfortably aware that more than just his own peace of mind was riding on a nugget of knowledge that he had not managed to find.

    He stared at the stake in Simon's hand, and Crowley's fingers twitched. He first moved his arms up across his chest, and then into his pockets. A moment later he anxiously set about petting Juliet roughly, just to have something to occupy himself.

    Crowley didn't answer Simon immediately. Instead, he continued to pet Juliet's enormous face as he brooded in the back of his mind. Finally he looked up. "No. Not unless I get myself impaled again, and it would require the other half of the spell to still be intact and in place." He didn't know who was to blame, but Crowley doubted they would keep that pendant around for the shits and giggles if they thought it to be useless.

    "I'm going to destroy it anyway. Just to be safe. Not that I know of anyone who could replicate the spell anyway."
    @Simon Lewis



     
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  10. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
    crowley stresses me out

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    UNDERNEATH THIS SKIN
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    What followed Simon's question was total silence. That was probably how you could tell this was so serious. It was sort of rare to hear total silence from Crowley, he was usually going on about something. But there weren't many things to go on about here that weren't doom and gloom. Doom and gloom that hadn't really been Crowley's fault. It was hard to imagine this stupid nail to have been the cause of it all, and yet there Simon was, holding it in his hand, turning it over like it might look a little more significant from a different angle.

    Finally, Crowley replied and Simon looked up again, nodding his head. He was hoping he'd say he would destroy it. Something like this shouldn't have been in the world at all. "Good," he murmured, taking a step forward and tossing the nail back to him. "I don't know why it wasn't the first thing you did."

    Then it was Simon's turn to fall silent, his mind back in that prison again, thinking of what Crowley had just said. That he hadn't been the only one. A frown tugged at his lips. "What about the other people? Are they-- I mean, did you get them out, too?" Or were they all stuck in there, suffering like he had? The thought of it made him feel sick to his stomach.



     
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  11. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    He caught the nail easily and looked down at it, feeling a combination of elation and disgust to have it so close to him again. On the one hand, it was proof that Crowley had come out the victor, at least in some regard. On the other hand, it was an unpleasant reminder that he had been enslaved at all.

    His feelings on the matter were too muddled to make any sense of, in any case, so he tucked it back into his pocket with a distracted expression. "I don't know either. Sentiment, I suppose." Crowley sighed, feeling the weight of the thing in his jacket like an anchor. Even now, why wasn't he destroying the thing? Why was he intent on secreting it back home and tucking it away for a rainy day when he felt especially self-pitying?

    His attention returned to Simon, and the question Crowley had been casually dreading. Immediately, the demon bristled defensively, and he folded his arms tensely across his chest. "I barely managed to get you out, Simon, let alone myself. I was in no position to stage a jail break after what happened with you." He said caustically, deliberately shaping his words into a subtle accusation that it was really Simon's fault that Crowley hadn't gotten anyone else out.

    Like it wasn't because the demon simply couldn't be arsed to worry about anybody else in that abysmal prison.

    After a moment, some of his aggravated bravado faded and Crowley looked away out of nervous habit that had been ingrained into him in the last few months. "Simon, I'm sorry. Like I said - I barely got one person out."
    @Simon Lewis



     
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  12. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
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    Sentiment. Simon had to wonder what he could have been feeling toward that thing besides total seething anger. It hadn't even happened to him, and he was angry just looking at it. But then, it had affected him. It had affected Crowley which had affected him, and the fact that it had affected Crowley at all was probably enough to piss the vampire off. Somewhere along the line of their really strange relationship, he'd realized that he genuinely cared about the demon even if he was a dick sometimes. He probably shouldn't have. Because he was a demon and he wasn't the good guy, but he'd done good things, so that had to mean something.

    It was confusing. Everything was just really confusing.

    Suddenly, Crowley was getting defensive and that was just another clue toward the fact that he gave a shit. Or maybe he just gave a shit about Simon giving a shit. He didn't know, but Simon did want to believe that the demon felt even a little guilt about the fact that other people had been left in there. Simon's shoulders slumping, he kept his eyes on Crowley even as he averted his gaze. "... Okay, then ... then just-- do you have any clue where it was? I'll-- I'll just go there myself. I'll take-- maybe Magnus or Raphael, they'll help." There was something altogether stupid about how genuinely good Simon was, about how badly he felt for these people he'd never met before in his life, for the idea of how much they were suffering through right now.



     
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  13. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    Eventually, Crowley knew he'd be plenty angry. By the end of the night even, he was sure that he would have a hell of a clean-up on his hands, because things were probably going to end up broken, be it walls or doors or windows or mirrors or anything else in between. He knew himself well enough to know that anger was usually the emotion that followed up any situation in which he was personally slighted.

    But for the time being, he was exhausted and miserable. Crowley was too busy processing how wrong it was for him to be anywhere near Simon Lewis at this moment for him to consider how angry he should have been at what had been done to him. Them. So he simply stood with his arms folded, looking carefully anywhere but at the lad before him.

    He didn't know why, exactly, but Simon's steadfast belief that his little friends would help him lit a fuse in Crowley, and genuine anger flashed across the demon's expression, fueled by some petty little feeling that he was being replaced because he hadn't been able to help enough. He hadn't done enough just getting the dumb brat out of that place, so Simon was going to turn to other people who had done jackshit to help him at all. "Do you think for one moment, Simon, that if I knew where it was I'd be talking to you right now? You think I wouldn't be there, tearing it down brick by brick?" He hissed furiously. "Your little friends did nothing to help you. They were aware, and they couldn't find hide nor hair, so I don't know what you expect to accomplish by running to them crying now. They certainly didn't give a damn when I told them you were in danger."

    Was that entirely true? Not at all, and Crowley knew it, but he also knew that he was a jealous, petty monstrosity who dearly liked to keep his things his, even if it meant trying to burn a child's bridges to the ground for nothing more than sheer spite and desperation. On one hand, he didn't want to be anywhere near Simon for the rest of the boy'd immortal life... but on the other hand, Crowley didn't want Simon to have anywhere else to turn.

    God, he was fucked up.
    @Simon Lewis



     
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  14. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
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    He hadn't meant anything by what he'd said. Or maybe he had. Maybe he'd just meant that Crowley had done enough, he'd been through enough, he'd spent a lot of time in that prison, too, and Simon wouldn't have blamed him for never wanting to go back again even if he did know where it was. But he didn't, and for some reason, that made him snap and he could the clearest glimpse of that side of Crowley that he hated, the side that reminded him that he was still Crowley. Sometimes he forgot about how exactly they'd met. Sometimes he forgot how fucked up it all was that they were apparently friends now or something.

    Then again, hadn't it been the same way with Raphael? The first time he'd met him, he'd been hanging upside down after being kidnapped by he and his vampire posse. This seemed to be a recurring theme.

    Still, the harshness of his words made Simon stiffen abruptly, his eyes glued to the demon as though he didn't dare look away. He didn't know where this was coming from, but he didn't believe it for a single second. He didn't believe it for a second that his friends hadn't cared, not when they had been out there in this woods while he stumbled around aimlessly, not when they'd sped him to the cabin as soon as they'd decided what to do.

    "... How's the air up on top of that high horse?" he finally said after a moment, and for once, there was no smirk on her face, no crooked smile, not even a single hint of amusement. If anything, he looked a little hurt. And he hated having to feel that way around the guy who had essentially saved his life. "You're dead wrong. You got me out of there, but do you know who found me stumbling around in the woods? Because they were out there trying to find me? My little friends. Get off your pedestal, because this--?" Suddenly he was gesturing, from himself to Crowley and then back again. "Whatever this is supposed to be, I can't even put words to it because it's probably literally that unhealthy. So don't try to tell me my friends don't give a damn."

    His friends, who had been there since the beginning. How long had Crowley been there?

    "At least they'd feel something about leaving a dozen people in there to be tortured on a daily basis." It felt harsh, probably harsher than he'd ever been with Crowley, but after what the demon had thrown at him, the sudden burst of genuine fury he'd spat those words out with, Simon didn't feel guilty. He just didn't feel like himself either.



     
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  15. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    Whatever anger Crowley felt was tempered by just how tired he was. For once in his life, he didn't want a fight, and it seemed for once in his life, Simon did. Not to say that Crowley didn't deserve this at all, but it wasn't often that the vampire was the one calling him out for having a shitty attitude.

    Tilting his head, Crowley studied Simon, eyes squinting in thought. There was nothing the lad said that offended him, necessarily, but it was still uncomfortably clear that Simon was lashing out in a way that wasn't typical. He was speaking a great deal of truth, but...

    "You're right. Maybe I'm wrong. I only know what I saw myself. Perhaps that was just part of the narrative." Crowley purred menacingly, even as his back went right back up as Simon switched tack and decided to attack him over the fate of the other prisoners.

    Jaw clenched, he stared at the lad intensely. "What do you want me to do, Simon? Hide in a dark, cold room and cry myself to sleep? Stop pretending I'm some magical woodland faerie. I'm a demon, dear, and the fact that I care about you is nothing short of a miracle or a curse." Crowley snarled hoarsely, expression wrinkling in loathing. "If that bothers you suddenly, you can fuck off now and live your own merry life. But I'm not going to pretend to be something I'm not for the sake of your comfort."


    @Simon Lewis



     
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  16. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
    crowley stresses me out

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    "It's not for my comfort," he spat out, hardly missing a beat. And there he was thinking something like that would be obvious. This was Simon who felt guilty for the mark on his forehead killing a man who had been bent on attacking him, this was Simon who apologized for defending himself a little bit too fiercely. This was Simon who wore his heart on his damn sleeve, and maybe times like these, he wished he were just a little more selfish because then they probably wouldn't have been fighting at all. "Unlike some people, I don't somehow manage to make everything about me. But you're right. Demon. I mean, what was I thinking?"

    Truth be told, Simon didn't know why he was suddenly so determined to pick a fight with Crowley when a few months back, he probably would have just sulked his way home had this kind of a conversation taken place. He tended to take Crowley's fits of anger in stride. After all, he kept sticking around and he cared about him, so that had to mean he had some kind of soul, some kind of humanity in him.

    Now, though, it was all clouded in Simon's mess of a head and he didn't have the energy to try to reason with himself, to tell himself that this stupid demon he'd come to like wasn't actually such a dick. Maybe that wasn't the truth. Maybe that really was just him.

    Or maybe Simon just wanted to scream in general at somebody.



     
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  17. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    "Oh, bullshit it isn't!" Crowley shot back with a bark of nasty laughter. "You think because you're naive and kind that you're immune to being selfish in your own ways? You write a narrative that's beyond wrong, Simon, and it's why you always end up up to your neck in trouble!" Simon thought the best of everyone he met, even when it was obviously not true, and he allowed his optimistic faith in others to lead him into terrible situations with terrible people. Crowley didn't exempt himself from that list, because he knew the truth. The truth, which Simon refused to acknowledge, was that there was nothing redeemable about the demon. He was just what he'd spent the last three months being called. Glorified filth. Hellspawn.

    He was evil and Simon Lewis wanted to pretend that he was just misunderstood.

    He sucked in a breath, forcing himself to tread carefully, even though a part of Crowley wanted to start tearing into Simon verbally out of some misplaced sense guilt that had suddenly morphed into indignity and outrage. The how dare you Crowley had spent months pointing at himself now pointed at everyone and anyone who tried to blame him for what had happened.

    It was a fucked up coping mechanism, but it worked.

    But this was Simon, and something was wrong, so Crowley ground his teeth together and tried to keep the worst words off his tongue. "You're right. I'm a demon. I don't know what you're thinking, Simon, but it's not in me to worry about the good of the many. I can't apologize for what I am!"


    @Simon Lewis



     
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  18. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
    crowley stresses me out

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    As Crowley barked out a laugh in response to his words, Simon felt himself flinch, his jaw tightening as he stared at the demon. He didn't think he'd ever seen him like this before, and he didn't like it. He missed the bickering Crowley, the one who had kind of a funny edge even if he wasn't trying to. This one was darker, more vicious, even though the vampire was sure that he could do much worse and was just holding himself back for some reason that he genuinely didn't understand. And that was exactly the question that was at the very tip of his tongue.

    "Then why do you even give a damn about me? You put-- You put all those other people in there, and you put-- you put me in there, and I'm the one you decide to bust out?" He didn't really know where he was going with this. He didn't really know where any of this was going at all, the only thing he knew was that his thoughts were one huge scramble in his head, and with every word he spoke, he thought he saw a piece of that prison, and then another, and then another.

    "I mean-- if I'm so naive and annoying and stupid, which you've reminded me of a few dozen times since we've met, then why does big bad demon Crowley even care? You could've left me there, too, I could be dead, too."



     
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  19. Crowley

    Crowley Supernatural
    Simon Lewis stresses me out

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    Crowley tilted his head as Simon spoke, taking in his words and digesting them. Running them through his mind half a dozen times. He had answers, but they felt inferior. Weak. What was he supposed to do? Was there a way that he could have gotten everyone out of that hellhole? Had Simon seen some flaw in it that Crowley hadn't? Had he been so focused on his own...

    No. There was no point in thinking about it like that. "Yes, Simon, I know what I did. Do you think I haven't maybe been thinking about it? I get it!" Crowley exclaimed urgently. Simon may have been tortured every day, but he wasn't the only one, and there were more ways to hurt someone than with fire or knives. He had been privy to every session, whether Simon had been conscious of his presence or not, and unlike the vampire, Crowley had had to keep his yap shut and act unaffected.

    And just like in that cell, he could tell that his best course of action at the moment was to keep his mouth shut before he ruined things again, so he simply averted his gaze from Simon's and sighed roughly.

    "You're a good person, Simon." He finally said, already bracing for whatever vitriol was going to be spat next. "I may be evil, but I know that good people aren't easy to come by. And they shouldn't be tortured to death in a dungeon."

    @Simon Lewis



     
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  20. Simon Lewis

    Simon Lewis The Mortal Instruments
    crowley stresses me out

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    UNDERNEATH THIS SKIN
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    He'd gone quiet then as he listened, his shoulders slumping as Crowley went on about him being a good person. There was something touching about it coming from Crowley, but in that particular moment, they felt to Simon like words. Nothing more and nothing less. Maybe he was too tired to feel whatever meaning may have been in them, or maybe he was too tired to argue with him. Whatever the case, the vampire didn't say anything in response. He just blinked his gaze to the side, shaking his head slightly as though things were still there on his mind, like he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that there were probably good people in that prison still. But they'd just be going in circles.

    "... I didn't come here to fight with you," he finally murmured, blinking his gaze to the side and swallowing thickly, but then he hesitated and huffed out a little laugh. Dry with no hint of actual amusement. "I don't really know why I came here. Because I'm thankful, or because I care. Or because I just genuinely ... stupidly believe that there's more to you than the demon." Otherwise how good Simon was wouldn't matter.

    "I guess I just wish you'd believe that, too."



     
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