#craltine

I eas gonna wrote some cute shit to go with this kazy drawing but I am TORED and do mot wanna do that so HERE. Have day 1 drawing even tho it's 30 minit we s away from day 2. Bye everyone don't die

I feel like a lot of depictions of Craltine is: Crowley 🤝Halt 🤝Pauline but actually they all are holding eachothers hands and spinning

I Can't Help But Feel Like I'm Drowning

A sunny day.

A little boat.

Flashes of bright blue water playfully splashing against the hull.

Rapid flowing currents gurgling nearby.

Ferris’ darting brown eyes when he asks him to help with his caught fishing line.

It’s fine, he’s my brother, I’m just helping, we’re settling our disputes, we’ll be all right—

A push against his shoulder and he’s tumbling forward, towards the water, and now his head crashes on the cold surface, and he’s cold, so cold— there’s water everywhere, it drags him down, fills his lungs, stings his eyes — he’s going down, down, down, he can’t move his body — he’s fighting against the water, forcing himself up, up, up — excruciating pain in his shoulder as something hits him hard, right on the bone — he’s fighting the pain, fighting to get his head above the water — he comes up for air, choking on the river in his lungs, something long and brown —an oar, he realises — lifts in the air and comes down again — now the pain is unbearable, he’s pulled under again, but not before he catches the murderous glint in his brother’s eyes, why, why, why, we we’re going to be fine, you were sorry, you didn’t mean it, I never wanted this, please.

He’s sinking, further, deeper, the dark river depths pulling him down.

You can have the throne. I don’t want it.

Water’s seeping through the cracks, through his lungs, his heart, everywhere.

Tell Caitlyn I love her.

Some part of him screams at him that he needs to breathe, but he can’t. There’s only water, and the dark, deep depths below.

The river can have me. You get what you wanted.

His eyes close, and a girl comes into view. She has a wonderful smile, and a laugh that fills him with joy. Now she’s crying, begging him to come back.

I can’t, Cait. I can’t.

Ferris looms over his sister, his eyes dark pools of hatred.

I’m sorry.

The glint of a knife. Blood. So much blood.

No!

His sister, dead.

‘CAITLYN!’

‘It’s okay, honey, breathe. You’re safe.’ 

Pauline?

‘Deep breaths, in- and out.’

What is she doing here? She’s supposed to be safe.

‘Come on, love.’

No- Crowley. You need to go- it’s not safe, he’ll kill you, just like he killed Cait.

‘Halt, honey, you’re worrying us.’

You were supposed to be safe.

‘Halt, love, open your eyes. You’re home. Safe. With us.’ Two warm, calloused hands gently cupped his cheeks. ‘Come on, open them, see for yourself. We’re home.’

Another hand, softer, smaller, brushed his wet — no, sweaty — hair from his face. He pried his eyes open, and saw Pauline, safe, and Crowley, alive, and the contours of his room behind them. Home.

Pauline smiled. ‘There you go, hon.’

Crowley pressed a kiss to the top of his head. ‘You’re doing great, love, but I need you to keep taking deep breaths for me.’

In, two, three, four. Hold. Out, two, three, four.

‘Yeah, that’s it, love. Keep going.’

He took another breath, a little shakily, but it was filled with air, unlike a few minutes ago.

‘Take as long as you need, alright?’ Pauline’s voice was soft as she kept brushing her fingers through his hair. It felt nice, and comforting. After a few moments, he rested his head against her chest. She immediately responded by wrapping her arms around him, and it didn’t take long for Crowley to join. Cuddled up like that, Halt could finally feel a sense of calm settling down on him. And exhaustion. He was so, so exhausted.