Chapter Text
HEAVEN
It hadn’t been his intention. He still wasn’t sure how he had ended up in that nightclub, surrounded by chaos and frustration. In his life he had never committed an act of violence like this, letting himself be carried away by such a primitive impulse. And yet, Crowley had aimed straight, as always, and the realization had left him in shock. There was no point denying it anymore, but he didn’t know what to do with it either.
Now he was alone in that vast, white, cold space, and all he could think about were those yellow eyes looking at him with a mocking expression, trying to hide the pain and betrayal. Was he suffering too, or had he truly moved on as it had seemed in that club?
His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps. Muriel approached with a frown and an uncertain look.
“I’ve been told it’s not necessary to bother you with this, but I get the feeling you’d want to know anyway. The first phase of the ‘Second Coming’ has already begun.”
“The first phase? But we haven’t even started defining the whole plan yet!” Aziraphale exclaimed, snapping out of his shock.
“I know, but Metatron said there’s no need to waste time inventing anything, that everything is already detailed in the original plan.”
Aziraphale sighed tiredly. He would have to argue again with Metatron and the rest of the archangels to stop them from blowing the Earth to pieces. This was why he had accepted Metatron’s offer, but he was beginning to feel the fatigue of fighting alone, and he felt like all he was doing was delaying the inevitable.
“The original plan… what’s the first phase?”
“‘The eternal fire prepared for the Devil and his angels.’”
“What?”
“Erasing any demons from the face of the Earth, to prevent them from interfering with Jesus’s arrival.”
“But that goes against the agreement we have with…”
“They’ve already started,” Muriel interrupted, with trembling voice. “Two demons have been eliminated with holy water. Hell is calling them back to prepare for battle.”
Aziraphale felt a tightness in his chest that wouldn’t let him think. He was completely paralyzed. Muriel looked at him with concern and said uncertainly:
“Your friend… the grumpy one…”
Aziraphale spun around and walked toward the large globe that dominated the room.
He had promised himself not to use it to spy on Crowley, but now that was no longer an option. With a trembling hand, he zoomed in on London and let instinct guide him.
And he saw him. Bleeding, cornered in an alley, with a furious grimace and bared teeth. In front of him stood three angels, and he immediately recognized Sandalphon by his sadistic smile as he raised the flask of holy water and said, “The Supreme Archangel sends his regards.”
And everything around him began to spin.
SOHO, LONDON
Crowley couldn’t go on anymore. He was cornered, wounded, and above all exhausted. Tired of fighting without knowing why, tired of the ineffable plan, tired of missing him…
He knew he shouldn’t let Sandalphon’s words hurt him, that this wasn’t Aziraphale’s doing, but it was the final hit. The realization of how everything had gone wrong until it ended here, in a filthy London alley.
And suddenly an explosion. A beam of light blinded him for a moment, and when he could open his eyes again, what he saw took his breath away. In front of him stood Aziraphale, his back to him, wings spread, placing himself between him and the angels, who looked as shocked as he did.
“Aziraphale…” he could only whisper…
But he didn’t turn around. His gaze was fixed on the angels, and his expression was furious. His wings were soaked with the holy water they had thrown, meant to destroy Crowley forever. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and restrained:
“I don’t recall giving any instruction to begin the Second Coming.”
The other two angels took a step back, but Sandalphon had already recovered from the shock and bared his silver teeth in a grin.
“It’s been approved by Metatron, and the First Phase is nearly complete. I suppose the Supreme Archangel has come to make sure everything is proceeding as planned? I still have holy water left if you’d prefer to finish the job yourself.”
Then there was another explosion, and the three angels were thrown against the wall behind them. Aziraphale approached slowly and looked down at them.
“Anyone who lays a finger on Crowley will be destroyed forever. Is that clear?”
They were completely paralyzed. Like Crowley, they could feel the power emanating from Aziraphale. Where was all that power coming from? It was nothing like what Gabriel had possessed.
Then Aziraphale turned and looked at him. His eyes no longer reflected fury, but release and sadness. He knelt beside him and held out his hand with a shy smile.
“Let’s go,” he said softly.
And Crowley, without taking his eyes off him, took it and let out the breath he had been holding.
THE BOOKSHOP, LONDON
They appeared in the middle of the bookshop, still kneeling, in the same spot where they had had that fateful goodbye.
Crowley looked around, but before he could say anything, he felt a trembling hand on his cheek, tracing the cut one of the angels had made with a sword. He looked back at Aziraphale and realized their faces were only inches apart. In that moment he forgot what he was going to say and could only hold his breath as Aziraphale gently caressed his cheek, looking at him with a sad expression.
And suddenly there was no distance between them, and he felt warm lips on his. It wasn’t a desperate, aggressive kiss like the first one, but tender and tentative, barely a brush. He couldn’t stop a soft moan from escaping his throat as an electric shiver ran down his spine. When they pulled apart, he hid his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder and sighed.
“Angel…”
He felt his arms wrap around him as a trembling voice whispered in his ear.
“I am so sorry, my dear…”
Crowley pulled back slightly and looked at him.
“What’s happening?”
Aziraphale sighed and took his hands. When he raised his eyes, his gaze was determined.
“They’re preparing the Second Coming. When Metatron told me, I thought I could stop it. I was willing to sacrifice not seeing you for a while to save the world, to save you… but I was naïve…”
Crowley let out a small laugh.
“That’s part of your charm, Angel. Even if it’s unbearable sometimes…”
Aziraphale looked at him, feigning offense, though he couldn’t hide a smile. But his expression turned serious again.
“They never expected me to lead anything, that much is clear. So I suspect the only purpose of Metatron’s offer was to separate us.”
Crowley looked at him in surprise and dropped his gaze to their hands, still firmly held together.
“Why? What’s the point?”
“I’ve been thinking about the miracle we did together. Remember? To hide Jim… Even trying to do a small miracle, it set off every alarm in Heaven.”
Crowley looked at him wide-eyed, and the realization hit him.
“They’re afraid of us…”
“Very afraid.” Aziraphale concluded with a smile.
Crowley couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and kissed him again. At first gently, like before, but soon he felt Aziraphale’s hand at the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and a sense of urgency flooded him. The need to feel Aziraphale with all his soul, and he parted his lips. Aziraphale’s tongue slipped urgently into his mouth, and they both let out a moan that carried all the desperation, longing, and fear of the past months. He clutched Aziraphale’s lapels and let himself get lost in the hungry kiss they had both waited so long for.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, Crowley rested his forehead against Aziraphale’s and said:
“Let’s shut these psychos down”