Chapter Text
Crowley raced and raced until not only all thoughts, but also all emotions were blown away and dissolved into the speed and he was nothing more than an empty shell of a demon behind the wheel. He stopped at last, pulled over from the country road somewhere on the high rocky sea shore, not so far from a village with a difficult name.
He had been here before. Long ago Crowley had discovered that if there was a place you hated with all your soul but were obliged to come back there anyway, nothing made you focus better then the view of it's entrance. And on the bottom of a hollow not far away there was one of the back doors to Hell. Humans as usual suspected something but preferred to ignore it and just live not a mile away.
Crowley seriously considered to go Down there for a while. Simply disappear, get lost in Hell, don't leave Aziraphale a chance to do otherwise than come to his senses. This plan had two downsides. Crowley wasn't so eager to die, and his chances to survive in Hell right now were... slim. He made too many beings angry by his Apocalypse prank. And more importantly, there was no guarantee that Aziraphale would not try to go there and find him out of stubbornness and loyalty to his word. And this didn't line up with the idea to keep the angel save.
He could not only disappear but stage a little show. Create an impression that he was bored out of job and really wanted to go back to Hell? Do something really demonic, remind everyone Below that he was far more useful alive and not in a torture chamber. And disappoint Aziraphale, so he would wash out his hands and let the demon be.
Something was telling Crowley his chances in both cases were slim to none.
Bentley carefully kept silent all this time, but now the first chords of Too Much Love Will Kill Yоu started.
"Exactly!" Crowley growled. "And if this is your idea of friendly support, I'll better be outside!" He left the car and slammed the door.
To stay beside it felt silly, and the demon stormed off towards a bench not so far away. It was awaiting some sea-lovers, perhaps. Crowley didn't care for sea-views right now and perched on the back of the bench facing the road.
"Would it be better for you too if I left?" The angel even managed to sound hurt as if he could really imagine even for a moment Crowley wanting him to leave.
Crowley wanted him to be safe. At least relatively safe, as for the last thousands years of secret meetings and playing their bosses for fools. "There can't be angels outside of Heaven" – these words of Michael were nearly an open threat. Aziraphale couldn't not see it too. How could he not understand they didn't have other options? The idea that his angel should obey those pricks again nearly made Crowley sick, but at least he would be safe. And it was out of question on Earth now.
Starting all this sabotaging Armageddon thing, Crowley didn't think so far forward. He didn't think what would they do with their former bosses and other angels and demons. He didn’t think that Heaven and Hell would learn to act so quickly and they wouldn't have even a year, not to say a dozen...
He didn't think that Azirpahale would protect their side so stubbornly. The angel was always careful, the angel was always cautious and doubted for centuries before making a decision.
For centuries the demon was the one who pushed and teased, who wanted too much and too fast – being sure that the angel wouldn't ever cross the line, wouldn’t make a movement to rash, wouldn't rick too much for their... Arrangement. Their friendship. Aziraphale loved him, and with a personal, not just all-encompassing angelic love. This would be foolish to doubt, especially after Crowley had an opportunity to literally dive into this love. But it was never in the first place for the angel. Something always was more important: the greater Good, the God's Will, Heaven's orders. And Crowley accepted this. He wasn't ready that Aziraphale could suddenly change his position. He wasn't ready at all to believe that angel could earnestly say he was proud of their side. That he wanted to spend the eternity here, on Earth, specifically in Crowley's company. Such a life was too small for Aziraphale, even if he tried to convince himself otherwise.
And more importantly, it was impossible. Demons don't get happy endings. He couldn't want anything more than just settle on Earth and share it's pleasures with Aziraphale, but it just couldn't be. He couldn't bring his friend anything but constant danger, grief and demise. Crowley could give not so much thought to himself being a living target for the likes of Michael or Hastur – he was enduring enough, and snakes have more lives than cats although a few beings know that. But he couldn't risk Aziraphale. Staying together, they attracted too much attention by this fact itself. Even Alpha Centauri was not an option anymore.
On Earth, in Heaven and in Hell there was no possibility for the Guardian of the Eastern Gates and the Serpent of Eden to spend the eternity openly together. Nobody could even dream about such a thing.
Although not so long ago nobody could dream that the Antichrist, born specially to destroy the world, would politely decline this idea and go home to be punished and stay in his room. Nobody, except for the crazy demon and angel. Who even before that managed to make up the world where they could be friends, not enemies and spend cosy evenings drinking wine and talking philosophy.
It seemed now Aziraphale was envisioning something new.
Perhaps, Crowley had to trust his vision?..
The demon rubbed his face. His thoughts were going in circles.
He looked around and noticed a car that stopped nearby. Bentley wasn't seen from its point, so the driver didn't know there was someone else here.
He spread a map on the hood of his car, then threw it away with a moan and grabbed his smartphone. But it seemed not to have a signal, so the man started pacing around, waving his gadget.
He didn't notice a truck racing along the road – at least not before it was far too late. And then the wind struck him in the face, and he found himself standing on the side of the road with a stranger in black holding him by the shoulder. It seemed that this man had just pulled him from under the wheels.
The driver cursed and bent down, grasped at his heart.
"Oh shit'" he said. "Where are they racing to, bastards... Thank you, mate, you came here just in time..."
"It happens," Crowley answered dryly. He didn't know why he had saved this human, it was just a mindless act. At least he didn't need any more to make up how to push this saved person to a sin all of a sudden.
"No, really, thank you, I'd be..." the man laughed hysterically, "a bright spot on a dull landscape. What's your name, who should I thank?"
Humans didn't ask this so often these days, and Crowley answered from habit, as hundreds of times before.
"Thank angel Aziraphale."
The man looked at him surprised and seemed to notice for the first time his sunglasses, not very appropriate in the barely morning light.
"Didn't think you are a religious type. But as you say. Perhaps, I'll give you a lift? Buy you a pint for such an occasion..."
Crowley shook his head lightly and grinned:
"No, thanks, I'm walking here. You need to go back to the last turn and take the right one."
"Oh, that's it..." The man didn’t' ask how the stranger knew he was lost. He just waved his hand and got back to his car. Crowley followed him with a gaze.
Actually, he could use his own name now and let Aziraphale be Aziraphale.
And in other respects too if one would give it a proper thought. Even if he tries to be reckless.
The demon came back to his car. Bentley opened the door obediently, keeping offended silence. Crowley patted her gently on the panel:
"Don't pout. Let's better go for a ride again."
He took his phone from the seat where he’d left it. One new message. Aziraphale. Crowley shook his head incredulously and chuckled.
He stepped onto the gas pedal, and Bentley speeded off.
***
It was evening again, and the CLOSED sign was on the bookshop door, but it wasn't locked. Crowley held the doorbell and came in quietly. There was light in the backroom. Aziraphale was sitting there in the corner of the sofa, putting a lamp beside him and reading. The blond haired angel in a bowtie, in a yellow circle of light, with a book. A real picture of cosiness.
"Hi, angel," Crowley leaned on the door.
"Hi, Crowley," Aziraphale beamed. "How... how was your ride?"
"Fine." The demon put his glasses in the pocket and flopped down on the sofa. "About yesterday. You were right, I was wrong, it's obviously up to you, I don't want to talk about it anymore." He hesitated for a moment and added: "Honestly, I don't want to talk at all. May I just stay here for a while? You do what you were doing."
"Of course, dear, as long as you wish", the angel smiled. Impossible, chocking weight had just lifted from his shoulders.
Crowley swung his legs over the armrest and put his head into the angel's lap.
'"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," Aziraphale took the book again. "Comfortable?"
"Of course. Gabriel knows nothing about softness."
Aziraphale chuckled:
"I'd think so."
"Don't worry, I'll need to go soon, my plants need water."
"Your plants wouldn’t dare to wilt unless you vanished for several month. And I am glad to have you here," Aziraphale took the book into the left hand and gently put his right onto Crowley's hair. The demon didn't object, just closed his eyes tiredly:
"You were going to read, angel".
Aziraphale nodded and found the place on a page where he had stopped before. But his thoughts were wondering away from the plot, and after a while he let the book down. The demon was lying still and breathing evenly, but Aziraphale was sure he wasn't sleeping.
"You know, one of these days I was finishing my business at that hospice and thought it's time to go home. But I suddenly didn't know where to go. Funny, isn't it? We hadn't made plans for the evening so I wasn't sure where you should be and what home I actually meant."
"That's what mobile phones are for," the demon said leisurely.
"Yes. Or..." the angel stuttered for a moment and finished quietly, "living together."
Crowley opened his eyes:
"What do you mean?"
"Well, quite what I've said? Wouldn't it be nice to have a common place where both my books and your plants would fit?.." He was afraid Crowley would laugh now. Or get angry again. He wasn't sure what would be worse.
"Angel, do you seriously consider moving in with a hereditary enemy, a vile fiend?" the demon smirked.
"I thought more about my best friend, you know," Aziraphale said gently. "Or am I just being ridiculous?"
"You are ridiculous," the demon nodded, closing his eyes again, then added, slowly and as if not completely aloud: "The plants could go outside. Something like a... garden, you know."
Aziraphale held his breath for a moment, overwhelmed with how vulnerable Crowley sounded and how much tenderness it woke in himself.
"A garden, yes. Beautiful," he agreed, knowing exactly how much this word meant. "But this would mean out of the city then? I don't think you'd like such an idea."
Crowley looked at him once again. The angel was completely serious. There was hope and a bit of excitement in his eyes. Like a child waiting for a Christmas Eve, really.
It was madness, of course. One couldn't imagine a bigger insult in return for the archangel's offer. It wouldn't last. They won't be left in peace ever. Aziraphale won't stop looking for a greater purpose. Something will be wrong. But for a time... Not a happy ending, not at all, just a new chapter in the story. It could be... beautiful.
"I could use a change of scene," he shrugged nonchalantly. "It's never too far from London with the Bentley. A cottage in the country then. I'll look for a place."
"Thank you," the angel smiled now.
There was doubt in Crowley's eyes, he knew. The disbelief, which hurt. But hope also. And the demon dared to risk, which was a little victory, a first step, a beginning of their new road. And they will get there, one day Crowley will be sure that he won't be alone anymore, that Aziraphale always will be at his side.
"By your silence, you're already picking a colour for the curtains. And a font for housewarming invitations for all your buddy angels," Crowley sat up and moved his hand through his ruffled hair. "What am I getting into... Can I distract you and tempt to dinner, perhaps?.."
Aziraphale gestured, and a respectfully dusted bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape with two glasses appeared on the table.
"Let me better tempt you to stay here tonight," he said. "I just thought how long ago I ‘d spent a spring in the countryside last time. Does England still have nightingales?.."
"A cottage with nightingales, okay..."
God smiled contently. She reached through space and just for fun painted one more feather in each of their wings manually. Her favourite project of the last two thousand years was finally moving into its final stage. It wasn't easy to establish a third side without direct interfering or starting a new global war. Now She could watch what will come out of it.