Chapter Text
When everything came crashing down
Years and years, millennia spent working hard and climbing his way up the ladder only to be sent plummeting towards eternal damnation. There was no way he was going down without a fight.
That’s how he found himself gripping the sharp blade of the silver broadsword and glaring into purple eyes above him.
“It’s a shame you had to leave like this. You really were quite the visionary. Would have made a great leader but now, I guess, I will have to continue to carry the burden of responsibility in overlooking Heaven’s decisions and values,” Gabriel sighs, mockingly returning the glare. In a swift motion the sword is twisted and that desperate grip falters.
Purple eyes watch him as he claws at the air, see his shocked gasp accompanying the anguished expression on his face. He stares back as the purple eyes shrink smaller in the distance, until he can no longer see anything but smoke and then he loses control, sent spinning as he plummets.
All he can see are blackening feathers as smoke fills his nose, fear encompassing his entire being. He gags involuntarily as his eyes and tongue begin to sting with such ferocity. He’s falling. Oh, how he’s falling. With the intense speed and pain, it’s a wonder anything else filters into his mind. Yet he begins to think, mind whirring out of control along with his body. He thinks of questions, always with the damning questions. He wants to cry but he can’t while everything is going so quick and nothing makes sense and he’s falling dammit, so he screams instead.
He doesn’t stop screaming until everything comes to an abrupt stop.
He’s no longer falling, not physically anyway. He struggles to get his bearings, unable to figure out which way’s up, in and out of consciousness every few seconds. Did he hit his head? Does he even have a head anymore because it does not feel like it… and he’s on fire. Plus he’s sinking. Then someone’s pulling him down. How can he go down further?? No, someone’s pulling him up! He then loses his grip on consciousness faster than he’d lost his grip on the sharp sword of Gabriel’s.
When he comes to, everything is aching. He realises he’s laying on his back facing the stars. His stars. Blinking a few times, he realises that no, there aren’t any gorgeous stars shining back at him. It’s just black. The air is smoky with an overpowering smell of rotten eggs… sulphur, he realises, lots of sulphur. As his stinging eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, he discovers he’s lying on an incredibly large rock, in what looks like a cave whose expanse seems to go on for eternity, and he’s surrounded by an eerie red glow.
Other angels - Fallen Angels - are milling about, seemingly having been up for ages. Was he the only one who had lost consciousness? Just his luck he’d miss the start of the party.
He sits up slowly and raises his palms to his eyes, digging them in. He freezes when he hears someone clear their throat close behind him.
“‘bout time you woke. Been worryin’ we’d have to drag you to the Decayer Pit,” the stranger croaks.
“Decayer Pit?” he asks, still trying to rub the stinging from his eyes and get his balance so he could stop swaying where he sat. He felt so dizzy that he was beginning to get nauseous.
“Yeh… Hasn’t been the brightest day. Started chuckin’ the dead ’n’ dyin’ in that pit way over there,” he points at a dark cave in the distance and waits until the other uncovers his face and follows his gaze before continuing, “didn’t wanna have’ta drag your sorry ass all that way, especially not after I put all that effort into dragging you out of the sulphur pool wi’v me”. There’s lighthearted humour in his tone, he notes, and it’s oddly comforting among the fear and confusion he’s currently feeling.
With his face finally uncovered and his eyes focused a little better, he turns fully to take in the appearance of this new acquaintance behind him. He has to hide his surprise when he sees the lanky figure covered in dirt and, presumably, ash. He’s got small twin antlers protruding from his mess of hair and a shy yet mischievous grin plastered on his face. There’s dried blood stuck to his lips and chin which he licks when he catches his companion looking. His strange tongue, still bleeding a little, catches his attention as well and he stares some more.
“Demon tongue. Happened t’ a lot of us. I don’t think you got it that bad though: stick it out”.
Still confused but now mildly intrigued, he slowly lets his numbed tongue emerge from his lips. With a nod, the other man sits back.
“Yep, you’ve got a snake tongue I’d call it. Matches your snake eyes. Not a terrible sight I’ll admit”.
“S-snake eyes? What’re you on about?”
“Your eyes, man! They’re yellow. No, wait, they look golden. Anyway, they’re like a snake’s with the vertical pupil 'nd everything. Remember the designs they had of the first animal species for Earth? Those!”
He rubs his eyes again.
“Best be fixin’ your name then. I’m Furfur- it’s a long story. Nice to meet you…” he prompts.
“Fix my name? What the- what would I change it to? I haven’t got a clue”.
“Well if you’re to have snake features then why not something, I don’t know, snake-y?"
He’s got a point. He thinks back to what they’d discussed about snakes in Heaven. He’d been quite fond of them, actually, and it makes him wonder for a moment what influences a demon’s appearance... It would seem that they definitely don’t get to choose it, but a name he can choose.
“Slide- no. Crawl sounds cooler. Crawl-something. Yeah. Er… Crawl… Crawler. Crawlyle. Crawlz. Ugh. Crawly”.
“Hold on, Crawly sounds good”.
He pauses, silently mouthing it to himself. “I think so too, actually. Crawly. Rolls right off the snake tongue,” with that, he sticks his numb tongue out fully. He smiles as he perks up a bit, feeling the agitation and every other negative emotion that had been simmering within him since waking up here, settle just slightly.
“Ah. Yes. Nice to meet you then, Crawly”.