Chapter Text
Around the half a year mark after the Apoca-yeah-actually-no Aziraphale and Crowley decided to finally move and live together in a small cottage, away from their previous homes and all the city noise. Aziraphale still didn't know who was more surprised by this decision- Crowley or himself. He had to agree that it did feel out of character for him- after all, he was the one that usually needed more time to adjust to change (if it wasn't for the demon, he'd probably stay in his bookshop forever), and yet here he was, not only agreeing to, but also asking Crowley to live in a different place with him.
And the entire process of switching houses went surprisingly smooth, too.
At least, as smooth as it could get for a pair of supernatural beings trying to live as human as possible (and yes, it meant they both tried not to perform any miracles at all). Crowley was a little reluctant about Aziraphale's decision to keep all the books ("I get that you love hoarding them-" "Do not call it that." "-but do I look like I need a damn- blessed- whateverlibrary at my house?") and Aziraphale was not really enthusiatic about the big TV Crowley put in the living room ("I guess it just isn't friend-shaped." "... It's a TV."), but they went for a compromise in the end (that is, they both got what they had wanted- Aziraphale just needed to pout a little and Crowley promised bringing home food from a different restaurant every week).
And sure, the first stages of learning each other's routines and habits in living space were awkward, but, since they've gotten close in the past 6000 years, it didn't take them very long to get used to that.
For example, Crowley discovered almost immediately that the best thing Aziraphale could do in the kitchen is to just eat whatever he was given; however Aziraphale also noticed that Crowley generally shouldn't touch anything at all in the mornings, so he took it upon himself to learn how to prepare some basic breakfasts.
As he was doing at the moment, actually.
Over the past few months he had learned that it'd be a rarity for Crowley to be up before him, since sleeping was the demon's favourite thing in the world (apart from his angel, but he would never say that out loud, of course). Aziraphale didn't mind it at all- at the begining he was a little worried, since Crowley would often be woken up by nightmares in the middle of the night, but it seemed that as the time went by, their nights were getting more peaceful.
The angel was just finishing making coffee and hot coco when he heard shuffling in the kitchen entrance.
Crowley was standing there, his eyes, still not fully open, scanning the room sleepily. His hair (he had been growning it out again!) was pointing at all directions, some strands were still sticking to his face. He gave Aziraphale a small glance and sat in his chair, pulling his legs to his chest and laying his chin on top of his knees.
"Good morning, dear." Aziraphale said cheerfully and places their mugs on the table ("They're dumb." said Crowley when he saw them for the first time "No, they're not!" argued Aziraphale "They're adorable. Look, yours has horns.").
Crowley made a "Hnnng" sound in response, which could mean anything between "I can't believe I'm forced to be awake at this horrible hour" and "I love you so much angel, the light of my life.". Aziraphale like to think it was closer to the latter one, but he could never be too sure.
"Up early today, huh?" He asked, walking behind the demon and placing both of his hands on Crowley's arms. After his first notices how tense the demon was basically at all times, he picked up a habit of giving him gentle shoulder massages. And just how Crowley's nightmares started to fade away, his shoulders also got more relaxed each week.
"Soon I won't have to rub your neck anymore." Aziraphale chuckled, moving his hands up to Crowley's hair.
"Ngk- I'll find something to stress about then, angel." He grinned and looked up into Aziraphale's eyes.
The angel shook his head. "I'm afraid I won't allow for you to just ruin your progress like that." He quickly kissed Crowley's forehead and moved back to the kitchen. "Care for some breakfast?"
"Na." Crowley smacked his lips after a pause. "Not in mood today."
Aziraphale nodded and went on to preparing something for himself.
Then, suddenly, a beam of blinding white light (and not just any type of light, but the celestial kind) poured through the window and basically drowned the entire room in itself. It made Crowley hiss like an angry cat and hide behind the chair he was previously sitting on. Aziraphale didn't quite have as dramatic of a reaction, at least not on the outside.
Something uncomfortably stung in his chest; it felt as if somebody took a rope, wrapped it around his heart and then squeezed it with all of their strength.
He had felt this feeling before.
This feeling was fear.
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Gabriel was falling.
Not falling Falling, obviously. He would never even consider falling from Her grace, not even allow himself to involuntairy slip into that. He was just simply above that. Archangels didn't just Fall- and he proudly called himself one after all. No, this was falling in a much more literal sense.
Quite as literal as it gets.
He especially felt it when after the long fall his body unceremoniously plummeted into the ground, knocking the air out of his very physical lungs.
Everything hurt.
Whille falling Gabriel struggled to pull out all three pairs of his wings in a hopeless attempt to fly; and now, with each and every one of them hurting terribly, he realized what a mistake it was.
He slowly opened his eyes.
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After moments of silence that seemed to stretch infinitely, Crowley finally managed to let out a weak "What in heaven was that?"
Aziraphale looked outside, then chewed on his lip, then looked at Crowley, then gulped.
"An Archangel." He eventually said after a pause.