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"KNOCKIN' ON HEAVEN'S DOOR"
"Vitals are rapidly decreasing!" "We need the defibrillator over here!"
The paramedics ripped Amelia's dress down to her bellybutton, exposing more of her skin for the procedure. Two metal paddles were placed on her chest—one being to the left of her heart and the other slightly beneath it and to the right.
"Clear!"
With one swift movement, electric volts were sent throughout her body. Crowley nervously paced and clenched his jaw slightly. The anticipation was absolutely killing him. Amelia wasn't showing any sign of cooperation—and this wasn't good.
"Clear!"
Another wave of electrical currents flowed into her—her chest and back arching slightly from the impact of it. Again, nothing. The paramedic wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and glanced at the monitor. Her vitals were remaining the same—rapidly decreasing. Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose, his hands shaking lightly.
Amelia's heart rate dropped lower and lower, eventually zeroing in to nothing. The monitor carried out the sound of a never ending beep. Her face was expressionless, her chapped lips were parted slightly, and her hair was thickly coated with ash.
"Alright, call it." "Time of death, 2:36 pm."
Crowley pushed his way towards Amelia, "No, she's not—" His voice cracked ever so slightly as he looked at her, "She's not dead."
"Sir—"
"—I said she's not dead!" His harsh tone echoed through the back of the vehicle, putting a great deal of fear into everyone there. His serpentine eyes glanced back down towards the girl, "She can't be."
He placed his fingers on her neck, trying to check for a pulse—but he couldn't feel anything. He smoothed back the hair on her head, his thumb trailing across her cold cheek. With a quick snap of his fingers, the paramedics mindlessly turned to leave.
He sat down on the small seat inside the ambulance and ran a hand through his hair, "You know, I never would've thought I'd ever turn to you." A heavy silence hung in the air as the demon pressed his lips into a thin line and tilted his head upwards. "It's not her time," He started, his voice breaking a bit, "I should've been there for her, I should've been there!"
Crowley suddenly stood up, "To hell with it!" He pushed over a cart, harshly sending the tools to the ground. He clenched his teeth, "To hell with everything!" He kicked the wall, over and over and over again—because he desperately needed to take his anger out on something. His chest heaved up and down as he peered over at Amelia. He choked on his words, "For Heavens sake, you can't take her from me."
As if on cue, a gasp suddenly escaped Amelia's lips and she jolted upwards on the gurney. Crowley's lips parted slightly in shock. The monitor started to rapidly beat again, matching up to her heart rate. Her chest tightened and her lungs felt as if they were on fire. Her brown eyes widened as she gagged on the tube that was inside her throat. She tried to pull it out—but her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
"Hold on," Crowley said as he held the back of her neck, "Calm down, love." Her breathing was scattered and her heart pounded against her chest. Her bloodshot eyes watered uncontrollably. She gagged and choked to the point where she thought she was going to puke.
Crowley finally removed the tube from her throat, allowing her to breathe freely. She let her forehead fall restlessly against his chest. Her eyes fluttered shut because she was tired—so tired. She had no idea what was happening and it was all too much for her. She clenched the back of his coat between her fingers, her chest heaving as she tried to slow down her breathing.
"It's alright," Crowley spoke softly, "You're alright." He rested his chin upon her head and pulled her closer, filling the little space they had between them. He gently rubbed his hand across the skin on her back—which seemed to calm her nerves. He never made it clear who he was talking to before—but God had answered his pleas. And God was listening.
"Crowley," Amelia weakly rasped out, her voice sounding hoarse and scratchy. She pressed her head further against his chest and whimpered softly, "I'm so tired."
Crowley shushed her, "I know, love." He ran his hand through her hair in an attempt to comfort her, "I know." The demon was surprisingly warm and Amelia could faintly hear the beating of his heart. Her breathing became shallow as she started to doze off. After a minute, Crowley glanced down towards the sleeping girl.
He tucked her messy hair behind her ear and hoisted her up into his arms. The color had returned to her face and her lips were now back to normal—perfectly pink and plumped. He carefully stepped down onto the wet street. Crowley wasn't ever letting her out of his sight again—and he meant it.
