Work Text:
Could demons feel regret?
Yes.
Did Crowley feel regret?
Yes. About many things, in fact.
Did he regret his Fall?
Yes.
Did he regret becoming a demon of the Below and a servant of Lucifer and a manifestation of evil and unholiness?
Yes, you could say that.
Did he regret that he couldn’t tell Aziraphale all the things he loved about him, and just how much he loved the angel because the Below would give him the most severe punishment for it?
Definitely.
He looked at his wings; black from the scorching that had happened when he Fell from the Above. They were neat, from vanity. What was the point of vanity? Sure, it was nice to make yourself look good, but why? His angel loved him, no matter his form, which always changed anyway. Crowley felt very alone, now. He sat on the floor of his apartment, hugging his knees, head down. He called the angel up, asking him to come over for a spot of tea. But it was more because he had an important question to ask. One he needed to have answered.
~~~
When Aziraphale walked in, and Crowley didn't so much as move. The angel could sense his depression, and stood next to the demon.
"Crowley?" He asked. Crowley did not respond. He didn't even look. What was alarming to the angel was that the demon's sunglasses were sitting on the coffee table, and not resting in their usual spot on Crowley's face. Aziraphale stared down at his demon, and put a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, my dear?" Aziraphale asked quietly.
"Angel...do you think I'm worth saving?" The demon asked quietly. The angel didn't respond right away. He was unsure of what he could say. He was tiptoeing around landmines. He could comfort Crowley and get in trouble with the Above. Or, he could be loyal to his superiors and ruin his relationship with Crowley.
Well the answer to that choice was obvious.
"Crowley..." The angel began, sitting next to his lover, "I think you are worthy to be saved. Despite your Fall-" the demon flinched at this reminder, "-I think you still have a lot of angel left in you. More than Hastur or Ligur or even Lucifer himself. And I believe that if my superiors would ever allow it, I would make sure I would do everything in my power to make you a servant to the Above once again." Crowley looked at him. He was...crying. Aziraphale honestly could never for the life of him remember the last time he had even seen the demon cry. Come to think of it, Aziraphale was sure the demon had never cried. History was being made. Unfortunately, it was for all the wrong reasons.
"But it won't happen. You deserve better, angel. I'm sorry that I can't be better. I'm sorry I can't change."
"I don't want you to change." The angel replied stubbornly. Crowley sighed.
"But you should have someone better than a demon to lov-" Aziraphale didn't let Crowley finish. His kiss was very much occupying the demon's mouth. "But-" Crowley started again, but the angel kissed him more.
"Oh, pipe down. Come off it, Crowley. You know I love you, and that will never change. You think I would've stayed with you for the last six millennium if that wasn't how I truly felt? I love everything about you. The way you're the only one I can lose myself with, the one being I will ever allow myself to get drunk with, and..." Aziraphale paused, smiling. "And even though I love the bit of angel left in you, I love the demon you are even more." Crowley smiled weakly, and the angel kissed him. "You are mine, and mine alone. You are my demon, Crowley. Don't ever change that. I love you, demon and all."
"I love you, Aziraphale."
"I love you too, Crowley. Please promise me you won't change yourself for me."
Crowley answered with a heartfelt kiss instead of words.
~fin~
