[And he doubts shooting any hands off would work, if it's some sort of compulsion they're putting over them, it likely can't be stopped that simply.
He winces at the question, swallowing down the immediate fear that rises up.]
I don't know, I bloody — he was right beside me and those blasted dolls came out of nowhere, and when I looked again he was gone.
[The only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart about it is because he's trying to constantly remind himself that Aziraphale is a soldier, a principality, that he's a hell more of a fighter than Crowley will ever be.
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[And he doubts shooting any hands off would work, if it's some sort of compulsion they're putting over them, it likely can't be stopped that simply.
He winces at the question, swallowing down the immediate fear that rises up.]
I don't know, I bloody — he was right beside me and those blasted dolls came out of nowhere, and when I looked again he was gone.
[The only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart about it is because he's trying to constantly remind himself that Aziraphale is a soldier, a principality, that he's a hell more of a fighter than Crowley will ever be.
He's probably fine.]