milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Sirius stands at the bar, facing Aziraphael. His eyes are no longer pitch black; slowly, they are beginning to fade to pale grey.

Bar-nard is hurt.

Someone hurt my bar.

If I fix it, will you kill them?

He strokes the bar soothingly, fingers never leaving its surface.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I will kill them.

Good.

You never lie about killing.

He continues to stroke the bar.

He hurts because it hurts. Thoughtful. The spell is deeper than it was.

*snaps* No one will kill anyone!

Death's entirely too easy.

A smile.

He's been good for you.

A gesture at Crowley.

*he looks at Crowley, then quickly looks away*

He's been entirely a bad influence, which I'm sure pleases him no end.

And me.

Returning to the matter at hand...

If I lift the spell...if I destroy it...he'll be safe. Bar-nard.

But...no more spell.

Is he strong enough to re-cast it?

*he looks concerned*

Bernard has no magic. Blast it. Could another wizard help?

I....yes. No. I don't know.

Constantine could. Or...

He looks back over his shoulder.

Moony. Or Tonks. They could help him. It isn't hard. Just a little spell. Even Bar-nard could do a little spell with Constantine helping. Or Tonks.

Or Moony.

Well that's a relief, certainly.

So you can do it?

Yeah.

I think you should stand back though.

Things might explode.

*he laughs, softly*

Oh Sirius, I have missed you.

I missed you too. You were one of my first customers.

He puts both hands on the bar, and bows his head.

You should stand back now. Make your demon stand back too.

*he takes a couple of steps backwards, still near enough to give assistance, should it be needed*

Sirius breathes deeply, the collar constricting his throat.

"Finite incantantum," he says, the first time his voice has actually been his own.

"Finite incantantum. Finite incan -- "

His words are interrupted by a scream as the bar glows bright blue, and a purple halo appears around his hands.

"Finite -- Finite -- "

*Broom watches on, desperately hoping for the best*

*he waits and watches, anxiously, on the edge of the light, unsure what, if anything, he can do*

Sirius gasps for air around the words, repeating them over and over like a chant, one hand sliding across the slicemarks in the bar's surface.

"FINITE INCANTANTUM!" he shouts.

Every bottle of alcohol on, in, or behind the bar shatters explosively.

*Aziraphael raises a hand, and the shards of glass abruptly lose momentum, falling to the floor*

Sirius is riding the crash now, his whole body engulfed in the indigo glow. His eyes are open and for a moment pupils flicker in their grey depth; for a minute he is completely Sirius, the Sirius who tended bar and loved and fought and shouted and gave credit to anyone who needed it.

"FINITE INCANTANTUM," he roars.

The bar glows blinding white, and Sirius is thrust backwards, catching himself against a booth behind him after his hands leave the bar.

It's done, he says.

His hands are bleeding.

*Broom stares in the direction of the bar, hands shaking*

She's all right.

Just like pulling a tooth....

Ow.

Is that it? Is it done?

It? Mildly amused. You did notice the drink blowing up, didn't you?

Or were you busy reassuring your demon?

*he flushes bright red*

What I just said about missing you? I take it back. Wretch.

*he grins, and puts his hand on Sirius' arm*

Thank you, my dear boy.

You're welcome.

I...

should go back now, shouldn't I.

Wistful.

I can't stay.

*he wants to tell Sirius he can, but the last time he was in Heaven, human souls hadn't even been invented yet. He's not enitrely sure of the protocol, here. He looks to the angel*

Send me home.

He touches the collar.

Unbuckle it.

*he reaches out, then pulls his hand back sharply as a spark jumps from the collar to his finger*

Ow. Sod.

*he takes a deep breath, then reaches in, clever fingers undoing the buckle as fast as possible, letting the collar fall to the ground. He shakes his hands then a bit, cooling them in the air, and grins at Sirius*

Run away home, Lassie.

Sirius smiles. For another moment, his eyes are clear.

"Thank you, Crowley," he says. "Thank the angel for me..."

His eyes black over again, and he looks upwards as his body dissolves, flitting away into nothingness.

Back home...to Skandra.

You wouldn't be happy, Sirius.

*he smiles sadly*

I wish you could.

*Broom approaches Bar and cautiously places a hand on her surface*

*he raises an arm to shield his eyes, and his wings are there, at the expense of his shirt, catching some of the shards of glass that he wasn't able to convince to stay put*

*Aziraphael attempts not to stare at the shirtless demon. He fails, rather*

*He shake the glass out of his wings - the shards are loose, mostly - and rematerialises his shirt. Fingers rub almost self-consciously not over where fading scars could be seen a moment ago, but over his collarbone, where there was a mark - reddened, round, and unmistakeably a bite-mark*

*Aziraphael flushes pink and reaches out to ghost his fingers over the shirt above the wound, apologetically*

*he raises an eyebrow, smirking faintly*

*Tonks watches from down the bar, biting her lip so hard it bleeds*

*he looks up at this, before taking his Firewhiskey, carefully, setting it on an out-of-the-way table, and wandering back*

*Broom, who has been silently listening to this conversation(having been by Bar's side nearly constantly for the past week), is extremely nervous about this plan. He embraces Bar, tells her he loves her, then stands back as requested, looking extremely nervous*

Sirius smiles reassuringly.

She was mine first.

I won't hurt her.

Much.

*Broom gives him a nod, but is still wibbling a bit*

*he scowls staring into his Firewhiskey*

*Aziraphael hesitates, a moment, then shuffles slightly closer. So that he can feel Crowley's heat, even though they're not touching*

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only