Chapter Text
Week one: Denial
There were 41 flowers on the coffin as it was lowered to the ground. Aziraphle knew because he had counted them 3 times. It was raining as well, little warm water droplets falling from a deep gray sky. Soft cracks of thunder could be heard from a distance.
The grass around the plot Aziraphale chose was a bright luscious green, and odd blue siberian squills popped up from the ground all over the place. The surrounding tombstones were brown and old with moss growing at the bases. You could hardly read some of the letters.
But one tombstone, the newest one, was perfectly legible and carved from a light gray stone, now turned dark by the rain. The stone had small flowers etched onto it and read:
Bittiah Crowley-Fell
2023- 2031
Beloved daughter and savor
Crowley stood next to Aziraphale clutching the angel's hand, and holding an umbrella above them. The service was small, no more than a dozen angels -plus Crolwey and Asterik- bothered to show up. To most of Heaven she was just a tool, means to an end, but to a select few she was so much more.
Everyone but Crowley and Aziraphale had left already, the coffin just finished getting dirt poured over it. Aziraphale held back tears as he just stared at the mud that covered his daughter. He hadn't opened the book shop once, he still couldn't believe it. She was so young. Just a kid. She had so much to give to the world, so much laughter and joy. Why didn't anyone want her alive long enough to hear it?
How is the world Aziraphale was living in the same world where she was dead? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense anymore.
“I’m so sorry for your loss Aziraphale.” Uriel walked over, rain droplets hitting their white umbrella. They were in an all white suite with a black rose sticking out of the breast pocket. Aziraphale’s hand tightened around Crowley’s. Crolwey pulled Aziraphale closer.
“Thanks.” Crowley said for him. Aziraphale had not been speaking much recently, no words came to mind anymore when the angel went to speak.
“But I think it would be nice for you to know that we erased The Metatron from The Book of Life. he can't do anymore damage. I’m so sorry for this mess.” they sounded too professional, Aziraphale thought, why couldn't they just feel something?
And, to be honest, Aziraphale hadn't even thought about what Heaven was doing. He had been too busy planning this. The service was beautiful by any definition of the word. Angels who helped raise her spoke and shared stories, pictures were up, a choir sang hymns and earth songs. It should have been the right send off, but Aziraphale didn't think so. Even then he didn't think there was a right send off.
How could she be gone, he kept asking himself as Crowley made small talk with Uriel, in what world is she gone?
“It was nice seeing you two,” Uriel smiled trying to get Aziraphale to look at them, but Aziraphale just stared blankly into the mounted dirt. “Even under the circumstances.”
“Yeah, take care Uriel.” Crowley said, hoping it was the right thing. Crowley had let Aziraphale run around for the past week making everything perfect, Crowley let him stir practically praying he would ease down after the service.
Week two: Anger
“Just stop worrying about me please.” Aziraphale yelled through gritted teeth, clenching his hand so hard his fingernails dug into his palm. Crowley and Aziraphale were living together in the bookshop now, they slept in the same bed, ate the same food, lived one life.
Neither really knew when the fights started but they were all the same. Crowley grumbled from the front of the bookshop following Aziraphale who walked out of the kitchen where the whole conversation started. “How can I not worry Aziraphale?” Crowley asked, doing his best to keep his tone in check like his therapist told him. Aziraphale was going through a hard time. He didn't mean any of it, any of the harsh things he said to Crowley.
“I am fine.” Aziraphale gritted out looking through the desk in the front of the shop.
“No, you’re really not.”
“Yes, I am.” He slammed a drawer shut “And stop telling me what I am.”
“Aziraphale, you just lost your daughter, it's okay to be sad.” Crowley still followed him around the room.
“I'm not sad.” sad felt like such an understatement of what Aziraphale felt “and she was God’s not mine.”
Crowley couldn't help but scoff “You raised her, she might as well have been yours.”
“I was just doing my job.” Aziraphae just wanted to be left alone. Why was that so much to ask?
“You loved just as much as she loved you-”
“Don't pretend you know anything about her, you weren't there.”
Crowley was not wearing sunglasses, he never wore them in the bookshop, so his eyes visibly softened and a bit of his heart fractured. “I cared about her too, Aziraphale.”
“You knew her for a week, what do you know about her!?” they were facing each other, no more than two inches apart. The rest of the bookshop was so silent you could hear the cars outside.
“I know she was brilliant, and caring-”
“You know what her first word was Crowley?” Tears threatened to pierce Aziraphale’s eye, he didn't want to keep crying. “Happy. But her teeth were not in so she just said ‘haddy’. She could never get the p right. She was so happy, don't pretend you even knew a fraction of that joy.” Aziraphale held back a sob and turned around walking out. He didn't want to hear any of Crowley’s sympathy. It was all fake, he was sure.
“Aziraphale wait.”
“I think you should go.” He faced the dark brown wall and took a breath, his head felt like it was buzzing, and his entire body shook with an emotion more than anger and sadness could describe.
“Fine.” Aziraphale’s hands were trembling as he clutched the front door handle. The wind from the outdoors came in, making some of the papers fall all over the place. The traces of tears on Aziraphale’s cheeks send chills down his spine. Crowley slipped on his pair of sunglasses and took a leather jacket of his off the coat rack. “Call me if you find where you put your sense.”
“At least I'm not a lying, betraying scum who calls himself a demon.”
But Crowley did not walk away, not yet, he stood planted in his spot, just outside, on the pavement, arms crossed. “This isn't you.”
“Get out!” The whole street was watching through the open door, Aziraphale could feel a thousand eyes burning and eating at his skin. He slammed the door as he could feel the watery salty traces of tears fall down his eyes. He slid down the door and wrapped his arms around his legs and drew them up to his chest.
All his emotions fell out at once and he felt like he was going to explode. He just had to lose every one didn't he?
Month one: bargaining
Aziraphale hadn't seen Crowley in two weeks, the demon could be dead for all he knew. Well, he knew Crowley definitely wasn't dead from all the unanswered phone calls the shop got. But Aziraphale didn't care. He was currently sitting around a rather extensive pile of books one read: Devine Rituals throughout the Ages.
Another said A guide to Exchanging Souls. The green one was about what happens after death, but only half the information was right. A blue one was about hades, and all the Epic Heroes who went to the underworld to get loved ones back. A fourth was so old that you couldn't read what was on the spine because of all the black dirt.
Aziraphale had spent three days fixing his summoning circle to Heaven and figuring out what he needed to do. He couldn't live like this.
The phone rang from across the room and Aziraphlae picked up an old bibble and threw it at the phone, knocking it off the counter and unplugging it from the wall. The line was dead and it stopped raining.
The angel sat and prayed with a knot in his throat. He just needed to speak with the almighty.
The glow of heavenly light came after a few attempts. But only Saraquel’s big shiny head appeared in the beam.
“Aziraphale?” Saraquel asked, leaning forward.
“Saraquel?”
“What the bloody hell are you praying for? You can just come upstairs…” Her small smirk fell and far too much sympathy crossed her gaze “oh.”
“Oh? What does oh mean?” He huffed crossing his arms, he didn't need this today.
“Aziraphale-”
“No, what does oh mean?” he sounded like a child having a temper tantrum- she never had temper tantrums when she was younger. No, don't think about her, Aziraphale reminded himself, not until she’s back.
“Aziraphale, think about what you’re doing. Just take a moment and think about it.” but he had thought about it, he’d been thinking about it for a month, but now that Crowley wasn't in the way he could do something.
“I know what I'm doing, Saraquel. I’ve thought about it far enough.” he clenched his jaw and was unable to look Saraquel in the eye.
“Where’s Crowley?” she sighed.
“What does he have to do with this?”
“Oh, I see,” she laughed, “you had a fight.”
“We didn't have a fight.” minor disagreement at the most.
“That bad huh?”
“Saraquel-”
“Talk to him. Don't be stupid.”
Aziraphale glared at the wall “I need her back Saraquel, I can't do this.” every part of his body acked her her to be back, to hold her in his arms one more time, to see her smile and laugh just for a second. Why was that so much to ask?
“I won't let you in.” Saraquel warned knowing how much damage it would cause. The dead stay dead, or their soul dancing in Alpha Centauri even though no one else but their Mother, Aunt, and Uncle knew about that.
“What his new job gave you a-”
“Just because I got a promotion doesn't mean I changed. Just talk to him. Don't be stupid.” But Aziraphale was stupid and quite peaty. He would end up calling three more times that week, as if it would make a difference. Nothing would make a difference. And it was killing him.
Month one, week one: Depression
This day was a Tuesday, a bright sunny Tuesday. The light shined in through cracks in the blinds of the backroom of the book shop, Aziraphale could feel the warmth on his skin as he looked at the wall. He was so tired. But he deserved all of this, he thought it was his fault.
Because it had to be right? He told her to think about it. Now she’s… gone.
Gone. Gone. Gone.It still didn't feel right.
Aziraphale sat at the counter top in the kitchen, staring down into a cold cup of cocoa. Then to the wall again. Then back to the cocoa. This went on for quite some time, nine in the morning turned, ten, to eleven. Most days passed like this, past like nothing mattered anymore.
It felt like a bit of what makes Aziraphale himself was ripped and burnt away, with no one to blame but him.
Maggie would knock on his door at one every other day. Some days she would leave cocoa or a casserole. Other days she would talk through the door, but these days Aziraphale would just go upstairs and ignore it. He didn't want to talk. Why did everyone want him to talk?
“Mr. Fell?” Maggie's voice rang through the front door. “I know you won't answer but-” she sighed and rested her forehead on the front door. “I'm worried. Please let me in. Let me understand.”
He wasn't quite sure what made him do it, maybe some part of him deep down did want help, maybe he was scared as well. He got up from his seat and walked through the front, but paused at the door. He looked down seeing his nightshirt and snapped his fingers. He was now in his normal light blue button up and bowtie. Aziraphale let out a sigh and opened the door.
“Mr. Fell…” Maggie smiled walking through the doorway and wrapping Aziraphale in a hug. His muscles tightened and he awkwardly cleared his throat. But she did not move for quite some time. He adventally wrapped his arms around her, the warmth feeling nice.
“Are you okay?” she asked pulling back “Stupid question of course your not. We haven't seen you in weeks.”
“Im f…” he sighed. Fine, he always said he was fine. But he really wasn't was he? Fine. to be fine, was to be okay; Aziraphale was definitely not okay. “No, I don't think I am.” A few stray tears threatened to fall and Aziraphale could feel the lump in his throat.
“Where were you Mr. Fell?” Maggie asked a loose tear falling down her cheek, she didn't even notice she was crying. “What happened?”
“I- '' he couldn't tell her about Heaven and The War. It would surely be too much for her. It was too much for him.
“I brought tea, if you want to sit down and chat.” Maggie smiled holding up the drink carriage in her hand, Aziraphale hadn't even noticed it.
“I think that would be nice.” he smiled the first semi-genuine smile in weeks. Guilt still piled on like a plague but maybe there was hope maybe a part of him could get better. It all felt foolish though, at the time to him. What world was worth getting better in, where she wasn't even there.
-
“I uh,” Azirapale sat in the backroom with Maggie, they both held coffee to-go cups filled with tea. They had been here for five minutes neither knowing what to say. Maggie was unsure of what was appropriate to ask, and Aziraphale unsure where to start, or where to lie “I Moved back to my hometown for an old job. But when i was there i uh,”
“You went back to Heaven?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea. Given her tone she very well could have been asking how the weather was or how bad Aziraphale thought the latest James Bond movie was.
“How do you-”
“Mr. Fell,” SHe laughed “I saw you pull a great bloody halo out of your head, we were attacked by demons five on that staircase.”
Aziraphale blushed feeling rather stupid “So, uh, yes. I went back to heaven and I raised a child while there. But uh she’s um…” he couldn't get himself to say the four letter word starting with a d “no longer with us.”
Maggie reached out a hand covering Aziraphale’s “Oh, Mr. Fell, i'm so sorry.”
A pressure built up in Aziraphale he could not put a name to. He heard his heartbeat quicken and beads of sweat from behind his neck, the lump in his throat grew, and, before he knew it, tears fell down his face. “I don't know what's wrong with me, Maggie. I can't eat or sleep or do anything. I somehow lost Crowley again.” He clenched his feelings wishing that everything happening inside him would just stop, this was all too much “I had everything I wanted for about five minutes. Then she…” Maggie held Aziraphale’s hand as he sobbed “Crowley and I had a fight. I don't even know where he is anymore, how did I lose him again.”
“Breath Mr. Fell. We can fix this.” She encouraged with far too much hope for Aziraphales liking.
“But that's the thing dear, I don't want to, I deserve this.” He gestured around to the messy bookshop, books and paper piling up, full mugs covering every counter, a thin layer of dust on everything you could touch.
“Don't say that Mr. Fell.”
His hand trembled under Maggies “It was my fault-”
“No, it wasn't.” She sighed beginning to cry as well, she had always been a sympathetic crier “You don't need to tell me what specifically happened but it is not your fault. And blaming yourself wont do any good.”
“I'm a bad angel Maggie.”
“No you are not.” A bird watched from the window, tilting its head confused at the absurd level of human emotion, but Tod never really did get it. So, he flew off “You do so much good Mr. Fell. If it weren't for you I would never have gotten the courage to talk to Nina. You didn't make me pay rent on my record shop. You probably did a million good things I don't even know about. You are not a bad angel Mr. Fell. your…” Maggie paused searching for a word, “more human than that.”
“Where I come from that's an insult.”
“It’s not.” She stood up still clutching Aziraphales hand “Get up.”
“What?”
“Get up.” She nudged him “You are going to go upstairs and take a bath, I am going to go into that kitchen and cook up some food. Go.”
“There’s no food in the kitchen.”
“Then I will order takeaway, thai sound good?” She pulled out her phone and was already dialing the number.
The knots in his stomach grew as he did not budge from the couch “Uh, don’t-”
“I'll take that as a yes. Now go.” he sighed and stood up, slowly wandering upstairs.
He paused on the staircase and looked back “Thank you Maggie.”
“That's what friends are for Mr. Fell.” She smiled, putting the phone to her ear. Sometimes, not all the time, a little push is all it takes. The care of a friend is all you need. During Aziraphale’s bath he thought a lot. Memories, words, night full of laughter, times carrying sadness. He did need to talk to Crowley even when he didn't want to.
Half an hour later he was on the couch with Maggie watching bad fantasy movies, eating thai, and drinking wine. It was the best he had felt in a while.
Month three: Acceptance
Maggie pushed Aziraphale to get out of the house more. Aziraphale didn't like it very much but he did it. He went on bike rides, and walks, to the shopkeepers association meeting, to the coffeeshop, to the magic shop. He went out to eat and talked to a few strangers, no real friendships being made. But he still hasn't talked to crowley.
Six times a week Aziraphale went to the grave yard. He forced himself not to go everyday like he wanted to, so six had to be surfice. The first time he went he couldn't even get a word out and just balled his eyes out the entire time. The second he just talked. By the 6th he brought a book and blanket and read for a while. He would tell her about his day, all the gossip on the street side. It felt nice to talk to her again. Even when she couldn't say anything back.
Deep down though he felt she was listening, maybe she was.
“Nina and Maggie invited me to go to some pub trivia ordeal.” he said to the light gray tombstone “I'm not sure if i should go though, it feel rather silly about this but… im scared of running into Crowley.” he sword he could feel her roll her eyes “Yes, i know but he did always love a pub didn't he? I haven't seen him in months, I don't know.”
He looked back at the tombstone “Fine, I'll go. Can't promise I will like it though.” Aziraphale looked down to his watch and sighed “Looks like I'm going to have to leave, Dear.” He stood up taking his copy of American Gods and his red and gold picnic blanket placed into the basket of his bike. “It’s been lovely chatting dear. Same time tomorrow?”
He smiled to himself as he rode his boke out of the cemetery away, humming a song to himself.
‘Everyday seems a little longer,
Every way, love's a little stronger,
Come what may, do you ever long for
True love from me?’
The wind august his face felt nice, the sun on his skin, the sounds of the street below playing in his ear. He rode all the way to the coffee shop, inside he saw Nina stacking the chairs on the tables and turning out the lights. Well, most of them. A few were still on, the twinkle lights Maggie put up dimly lighting the shop in a warm purple.
Nina waved him inside just as a pair of footsteps echoed behind him.
“Hello Aziraphale.” She said as if she was trying very hard to sound cheerful. “would you like to come in, we're just waiting on Mags.”
“Uh, sure.” he awkwardly responded sitting down at the corner booth. The sounds of some people arguing from outside came through the shop, but Aziraphale didn't bother to look over.
The doorbell jiggled as someone walked inside, Aziraphae turned around expecting to see Maggie. Which to his defense he did. But accompanying her was a red haired, sunglasses wearing, demon in black jeans and a queen t-shirt under a blazer.
“Shit.” Crowley muttered, crossing his arms and looking at the back wall. Crowley had grown close to Nina over the past couple months, they would bitch about work (Crowley quit his jobs last week though) and about their favorite movies. Both were very into bad spy thrillers and Mary Popins.
Nina helped him hunt for an apartment after a week of not talking to Aziraphale, it was only a block away from the coffee shop. Crowley had left the hotel to work behind the scenes of some movie productions again; he hadn't done much of that sense the 90’s. He’d only been doing it a week or so but it was fun. Anthony Crowley was an old name known by many in the line of work. Crowley was now posing ad his own apparent son. Oldest trick in the book.
“Come on, you two need to talk.” Maggie was still in the doorway, Nina slowly making her way to her with keys in her hand.
“You said trivia.” Aziraphale muttered, clenching his jaw.
“Yeah, for us.” Nina smiled as they walked out the front door and closed it “You two are staying here.” she james the keys in the lock with a click.
“No, you can't-” Crowley ran over to the door and shook it.
“We’ll be back in the morning.” Maggie smiled, Nina slipped her hand in Maggie’s as they walked off. Crowley slammed his fist against the door.
Both could have snapped their fingers or waved their hand and the door would unlock with no trouble. Or they could make a brick appear and the throw it at the glass window. Or they could have just looked around to the unlocked back room door. But neither of them did any of those things.
Why?
Maybe they missed each other. Maybe they did want to talk. Maybe they just wanted the excuse to see the other person's face. Maybe Crowley was tired of calling a dead line. Maybe Aziraphale regretted not picking up.
“Basterds...” Crowley signed sitting in the chair across Aziraphale, running his hand through his hair.
Aziraphale fidgeted with his hands under the table. What was he supposed to say? Or do I? Even act? They had known each other for thousands of years, how was he still figuring this out? “Uh, hello Crowley.”
Crowley laughed a bit and managed to look at Aziraphale “Hi? That's all you have to say to me?”
Aziraphale looked down at his hands, a mix of guilt and uncertainty in his eyes and in his gut. "I don't really know where to start, Crowley.” He looked up, their eyes meeting “I... I messed up, didn't I? I pushed you away, and I lost her, and I lost you. And I am uh, sorry for that."
Crowley sighed, his gaze softening a bit. "Aziraphale, we both messed up. I should've been there for you, and I shouldn't have let things escalate like they did. And I should have Given you a bit of space. I’m sorry I didn't."
Silence hung in the air for a moment before Aziraphale spoke again, too many things needed (or wanted) to be said. "I miss her, Crowley. I miss her so much it hurts. And I miss... I miss us."
Crowley nodded, knowing all too well what he ment. "I know, I do too."
Aziraphale took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I don't want to keep living like this, Crowley. I don't want to be alone. And I don't want to lose you again."
Crowley's expression softened further, a hint of vulnerability showing through. "Aziraphale, I... I don't want to lose you either. I never wanted that. I dint mean for things to get as fucked as they did."
A heavy sigh escaped Aziraphale, and he finally looked directly at Crowley. "Can we... Can we try to figure things out, Crowley? I don't want to lose you- lose us.”
Crowley met Aziraphale's gaze, and for a moment, it seemed like time itself had stopped. "Yeah, angel. We can try."
The weight of the past few months seemed to lift a little as they locked eyes, understanding that acceptance and healing would take time, but at least they were willing to try.
And try they did.
After Nina and Maggie unlocked the door the next morning, Aziraphale went back to the bookshop, Crowley with him. They talked some more, making boundaries. They would take things slow.
Crowley still lived in his flat, Aziraphale above the bookshop. They both worked and had lives. For a while this worked, a long while.
Crowley bounded around jobs a lot, following whatever took his interest. Aziraphale stayed consistent in his life, preferring more of a runtein.
Crowley did come over a lot, like he always had, they drank hot chocolate while talking, or Aziraphale would read outloud. Sometimes they would watch a movie at Crowley’s flat.
And it was during one of those movie nights Aziraphale let all his built up feelings out, and Crowley just listened and held Aziraphale close. No one yelled that night.
“How could my little girl be dead?” Aziraphale sobbed after watching Marlie and Me.
“Hey, hey come here.” Crowley pulled Aziraphale across the couch pulling him close, Aziraphale let the tears fall, and Crowley let them stain his shirt.
“She was just a kid.”
“I know I know.” Crowley ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair “Shhh I got you angel.”
Another one of their conversations went like this…
“I don't remember much of it.” Crolwey admitted in the bookshop clutching a glass of water (he was still sober), he looked down at the photo Aziraphale had out, it was so torn and tattered. “I was very, uh, innocent, we all were. I never noticed when someone was being rude or pushing me away. I thought we were all happy.”
“Were you? Happy I mean.” Aziraphale asked, sitting next to him.
“Yeah I was. But that's not me anymore, you have to understand that, I lost that version of myself a long time ago.”
“I know. And I love this version of you more than I ever liked that angel.” he clutched the demon's hand no longer wishing to see that angel again, he now realized.
“I love you two, angel.”
They would get dinner at the Ritz again, feeling the most normal they had in ages. One of these nights was their one year anniversary sense officially dating. Aziraphale was getting better at handling his grief, he still visited Bithiah constantly, but now it was only four times a week. Aziraphale started seeing a therapist, though not the same one as Crowley Aziraphales was two floors up. He felt better, took care of himself better, and talked to Crowley better.
Things were better.
So, one day during his normal walk after lunch, Aziraphale stumbled into a jewelry store. The jewelry was a lovely lady in her late 20’s, she had bright pink hair and a checkered print blazer. Aziraphale wouldn't have been surprised if he accidentally wandered into Hot Topic.
The ring he picked out was fairly simple; a silver and gold band, the two metals twisting around each other, and three fairly small Moonstones. (Aziraphale didn't want diamonds because he knew far too much about what Crowley had done to that industry.)
And during their anniversary dinner at the Ritz Aziraphale, in a very gentlemanly fashion, got down on one knee.
Crowley said yes, obviously.
Year 5: Family
The pair didn't get married eminently, they spent the next four years happily engaged.
But when the day did come they stood at the altar with tears of joy in their eyes.
Maggie and Nina were the best men at the wedding. They never wanted to have kids, but they raised 2 large black and gray huskies named sky and fall. They renovated half of the coffee shop into a record store, where people could listen to their favorite records and drink coffee. Nina and Maggie loved it.
Newt and Anthema had a boy named Jermy, he is trained in the occult by his mother, New and Anthema didn't end up getting married, but their family is small but happy. A horse shoe hangs over the door to the cottage. Newt is finally a computer engineer with a bit of help from his wife.
Adam and the Them have their own little lives. But only Adam showed up at the wedding with his girlfriend. Adentally they would have three kids of their own, Adam wrote a book of short stories for kids (in the back there is a list of 27 Weird and Odd Games to Play with Your Friends) the book is a best seller.
Eric and Mureil were placed on earth full time and work part time at run the bookshop, Aziraphale comes in and helps run things when he is bord or missing the shop.
Bithiah still runs in the stars with Beeulzabub and Gabriel, their souls and Auras lighting up the night sky. They are free and happy.
Shax is no longer the Duke of Hell, that position fell to Dagon. Ureil, the new Supreme Archangel, worked closely with them. So far no places for the Second (or would it be third) comin are known. Both sides work relatively free of corruption, mostly. They have Crowley and Aziraphale come in once a year to check on things and to catch up.
Saraquel took on the role of the voice of god, the pair have weekly tea and gossip.
Micheal is still fighting for a promotion.
No one heard from Asterik or Jophiel again, so I will let you decide what they are up to. Maybe they win prizes for their tropical fish.
As for Crowley and Aziraphale nothing is perfect but they like it that way. Their wedding was at their cottage in South Downs cottage. Another child would not be in their lives for a very long time, too many screws still needed healing. But one day, maybe in a few hundred years, a little girl would fall into their lives that they loved very much. But she was not a replacement for Bittihah, Aziraphale wanted to stress that point.
They also have a cat who likes to chase the ducks in the backyard. The cat's name is Halcyon.
During the wedding most people cried, no one more than Crowley, it was short and small but sweet. Crowley’s ring had little wings on it with vins, Aziraphale was black with a serpent. It was terribly ironic of them but they loved it. Afterwards, when everyone had gone home, they drove around in the Bentley and would dine at the Ritz. both so full of love.
The pair had lost so much that they loved over the millenia, but they gained just as much. Because, what you have to understand, about grief, is it is not a linear path. Some people take 12 steps to get to a place that feels liveable, other people it takes 5. But there is also anywhere, and everywhere, inbetween. Grief never goes away, but it gets better. The wounds heal leaving scars, doors close but new ones open. Lives change when others end or take a different path. And it is all okay.
So now a nightingale will sing, but neither the angel nor the demon will hear it, but deep down they know it is there. Deep down they know a chapter is ending, maybe even a story, but a new one will come, new adventures to be had, new people to love. All would be okay for now. They both were at peace, both found happiness. A happiness neither Heaven nor Hell could take away.