Chapter Text
Crowley burst into the bookshop, locking the doors behind him with a snap.
“Time’s up,” he told the startled Aziraphale.
“You’re lucky there were no customers,” he huffed.
“Angel, did you hear me?” Crowley repeated, making pointed eye contact. Aziraphale’s expression hardened,
“They’re coming for us, you mean?”
“I saw Dagon today, headed straight for me. She never comes up here, so it wasn’t hard to lose her, but,” he yanked his glasses off and stuffed them in a pocket, “that also means it’s serious.”
“Yes, I’ve been feeling more and more of them,” Aziraphale admitted. “I thought I might have even seen Gabriel across the street last week. Perhaps I was right.”
“I give it until the end of the week. Probably sooner.”
“Indeed.”
The world had nearly ended ten years ago now; a fair chunk of a human lifetime, but only a short holiday for an angel and a demon.
“Of course it was too good to last,” Crowley sighed, dropping onto the sofa.
“But we’ll fight them, won’t we?”
“All of heaven, all of hell, two of us? We haven’t got much chance, do we?” Crowley said, and for all the world he looked old, and so absolutely tired.
“I suppose not,” Aziraphale allowed, sitting down beside him. He laced their fingers together, “but I’ll be damned if I let you go without a fight.”
A smile lifted some of the resignation off Crowley’s face,
“And I’ll fight ‘em all for you, Angel.” he placed a kiss on Aziraphale’s forehead, “Though, you’re probably damned already.”
“Probably,” Aziraphale agreed. Crowley watched the angel for a moment before taking his face in both hands,
“I love you,” he breathed, pulling Aziraphale into a kiss. He lingered there for a long moment, kissing Aziraphale as deeply as he could manage before pulling away. “Just in case,” he tried to explain, “if they—"
“Oh good lord,” Aziraphale scoffed, smiling, “that shouldn’t be necessary!” but the way his face fell as he looked away betrayed him.
It took three days for heaven and hell to truly catch up with them. Three days of close calls, dodging a team of demons here, a group of angels there, as they were steadily closing in and improving their tactics. Each call was closer than the last. It wasn’t until they were surrounded on both sides by both higher-ups and lower-downs that it began to truly feel inevitable; they weren’t getting out of this without a fight. And probably not even then.
They were standing on a busy street when they noticed their pursuers.
“They’re here,” Aziraphale mumbled, “maybe a block or two away in each direction.”
“Angels in front, demons behind, what can you do?” Crowley sighed.
“Take a left,” Aziraphale concluded, stepping into the street, dodging oncoming traffic, Crowley stumbling behind.
They wove down blocks and around buildings, slowly picking up speed as they felt the angels and demons closing in. They took shortcuts through restaurants and stores, and eventually broke into a run, sprinting down streets and pulling each other through sudden turns. They had a slight upper hand, having spent far longer in London than any of their pursuers, but there’s only so much a mental map can help you against powerful occult or celestial beings.
Trying to dash down an alley they found Uriel and two lower-ranking angels blocking the path. Turning back, Dagon and two grimacing demons walled them off. As the angels and demons stepped closer, Crowley and Aziraphale backed into each other, gripping each other’s hand. There was nowhere else to run, god forbid anywhere to hide, as the two sides closed in.
Aziraphale turned around and pulled Crowley into a kiss.
“I love you,” he told him, and Crowley could swear there were tears in his eyes.
“Aziraphale—“ but there was only time for them to hold each other’s hand tight for a moment longer, before their respective sides caught them by the other arm and yanked them apart.