Work Text:
Crowley was in love with him. Aziraphale could scarcely believe that those words had left the demon’s lips. He felt his heart expanding in his chest, filling with love for the other. The demon was still sitting opposite him, a shocked sort of look on his face. He was clearly waiting for answer, some positive response to the confession that had fallen from his lips.
The happy feeling was quickly replaced with dread. A cold sweat forming on his brow as he remembered words he had shared with Gabriel centuries ago, a conversation that had come up when the other angel noticed Crowley’s scheming.
“It’s funny. Did you know that demons are actually repelled by love?” Gabriel had said to him, looking quite pleased with himself. As he always did.
“They are? Why is that?” Aziraphale asked him, a bit confused by it. Crowley seemed like he had several things that he enjoyed to the point to loving. Although, angels and demons were very different and he might have just misinterpreted things.
“It was a final gift from the Almighty,” Gabriel told him, his fake smile beaming. “She stripped away their ability to love, but let them remember how it felt. Quite the morale dropper, isn’t it?”
Aziraphale was horrified, staring at him. “That’s just horrible!”
“It’s part of the plan, Aziraphale. Besides, it’s quite an effective weapon against them. You see, love, it can kill them. Causes them great pain if it doesn’t.”
The conversation was burned into his mind and he stared at Crowley in horror. The demon’s face had dropped and he looked upset, hurt even. Aziraphale shook his head. He couldn’t love Crowley, not knowing that it would hurt him. He couldn’t do that to someone he loved.
“Angel,” Crowley started, but said angel didn’t even let Crowley get another word out before he had stood up, a look of horror on his face.
“No, Crowley, don’t…” he paused before staring at him, clearly flustered and upset. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, heading out of the cafe they had been dining at and running off to keep the demon from following after him.
He didn’t go back to the bookshop, he couldn’t do that. No, Crowley would look there first. He couldn’t go there. Instead, he walked, hands in his pockets as he tried to think of a way to avoid hurting Crowley with his love. He had to find some way. Crowley had looked so hurt sitting there in the cafe and his face was etched into Aziraphale’s mind.
He couldn’t love Crowley, not while he was an angel and Crowley was a demon. He paused, thinking about that. He certainly couldn’t raise Crowley from being a demon, but he could attempt to fall. It wouldn’t be fun, but it could work.
A small part of his mind worried that if he fell, he wouldn’t be able to love Crowley, but he was going to try. If he couldn’t love Crowley as an angel, he would take the risk of falling and being unable to love Crowley as a demon. At least that way, he wouldn’t have to worry about hurting his demon.
He made a quick detour to the book shop, packing up a small collection of his favorite books. He couldn’t stay there, or else Crowley would find him rather quickly. He couldn’t have that happen until after he managed to fall. So instead, he decided to head towards Tadfield. Perhaps Anathema would have some suggestions of ways to make him fall.
><
Crowley sat at the cafe for about twenty minutes. He was staring at the seat that Aziraphale had once occupied. He wasn’t sure how he expected the last minute love confession to go, but this? This was not one scenario he could have planned on. How could he have predicted Aziraphale leaving him alone?
The angel had looked so shocked by the declaration. Crowley had thought there was a bit of happiness on the other’s face before it turned into horror and panic. Was loving him so bad?
He left the cafe, without paying of course, storming off to the Bentley. He’d sleep for a few weeks and try to mend his relationship with Aziraphale after he woke up.
><
“Aziraphale, you can’t just sit on my sofa for weeks,” Anathema scolded him after the tenth day of the angel not leaving her sofa. He had unpacked some books next to him and had hardly done much else. “I know you are hiding from Crowley, won’t you just tell me what’s going on?”
“I have to fall,” Aziraphale shrugged, not looking up from his copy of Dorian Gray. It was, perhaps, the third time in the last few days that he had read it, but it was easier to hide in the book than to confront the terror that came with having to fall.
He’d mentioned to Anathema on his first day there, and then had scarcely said anything else. The American was starting to get a bit annoyed with him. “Why do you have to fall? You never told me why.”
“Well, you see, my dear,” he put his book down, gesturing for her to join him on her sofa. “Crowley is in love with me. But me loving him as an angel will kill him. So I have to fall.”
“Love kills demons?”
“Gabriel said it was one of the last things the Almighty did to them when they fell. Took away their ability to love.”
Anathema frowned at that, adjusting her glasses. “Isn’t Gabriel the one you don’t like? Why would you trust him?”
Aziraphale paused, growing a bit flustered. “Well, why would he lie about it?” He looked down at his book, clearly upset. “How does one go about falling, do you think?”
She considered him for a moment, “Don’t you have to doubt God or something?”
The Angel looked like she had just suggested setting his bookshop on fire, his jaw dropping open in horror. “Doubt the Almighty? But her plan...it’s...well, it’s ineffable, how could I doubt that?!”
“Fine, so maybe you could try committing evil and maybe you’ll fall from that?”
“Genius, my dear girl, now, what would be evil enough that I would fall?”
“Well, what’s the most holy thing you can think of?”
Aziraphale didn’t even have to think about that, smiling as he looked at her. “Well, the Almighty herself of course.”
Anathema shook her head and looked at the angel, clearly a bit exasperated with him. “On Earth, Aziraphale. What’s the most holy thing on Earth?”
“A church?” he paused before his face lit up and he stood up off the sofa. With a snap of his fingers, his books packed themselves back up and he straightened out his clothing. “That’s it. I’ll go burn down a church.”
She stared at him, feeling relieved as the books were packed and the angel was finally off her sofa. “Great. Evil plan. Go do it,” she urged him, just wanting her cottage back.
“Well, thank you for your help, my dear,” Aziraphale smiled at her before heading out of the cottage to go find a church to burn down.
Anathema sighed heavily, closing her eyes and enjoying the newfound peace in her home. It only lasted a day though, as the day after Aziraphale left Jasmine Cottage, she got a phone call from Crowley, the demon sniffling and his word slurring.
“Angel...My Azira- my angel, he’s left me,” he cried into the phone. Anathema stared at the wall in annoyance before hanging up on him.
><
Crowley had woken up from his two week long nap, still feeling bad. Usually sleep made him feel much better about a situation, but now, it just made him feel sad. He got out of his bed, hoping to find a message from Aziraphale on it. Nothing. Not even a single voice message or phone call from the angel.
He’d headed over to the bookshop first thing. The Bentley tore through London, stopping in front of the shop. The blind were drawn and the shop closed. That didn’t stop him though, he let himself in and was then confronted by an empty book shop.
Surely Aziraphale had only stepped out for a moment, he thought, looking around. That was when he noticed the shelf of Aziraphale’s favorite books, the ones that he considered the most valuable in the shop, were gone. There was no trace of the books anywhere, and in that moment, Crowley began to truly worry if Aziraphale had left him for good. So he did the only thing he could think over. He called Anathema. Well, that was after a bottle or two of wine and some well earned tears.
He didn’t even get a chance to ask her if she had seen his angel.
><
Aziraphale wasn’t sure how to really go about burning down a church. He knew, in theory, how to do it. But he still wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. He had to though. He had to fall, for Crowley. This was his best bet to do so.
He had a packet of matches in his hand. The church was a newer one, made of wood and plastic rather than a larger stone cathedral. Easier to burn he told himself. He was standing in the back and it was really rather empty as very few people went to church on a Tuesday afternoon.
He struck one of the matches, intent on lighting a few of the hymnals alight. The burning paper would hopefully catch the wood pews and the church would burn. Surely that would be enough for God to decree that he ought to fall.
He stared at the match in his hands, the burning wood getting frighteningly close to his fingers. He blew it out and decided to try lighting another one. This one burned just as quickly and once again, he got so lost in his thoughts that he ran out of time to use the match before it went out.
He went to light another one before realising he didn’t have it in him to set the church on fire. He left the book of matches and two burnt matches in one of the pews, walking out of the church after saying a quick prayer in apology to the Almighty.
He found a payphone and dialed Anathema’s number, fretting a bit. If he wasn’t able to do evil, how would he be able to fall and truly love Crowley?
Luckily, Anathema answered, her annoyed ‘Hello’ filling his ear. “Yes, hello, my dear girl, so I can’t burn down a church, what else could I do?”
“I don’t know. What would Crowley do?” she suggested, sounding tired and done with the conversation.
Aziraphale’s face lit up and he smiled, “Of course, my dear. What a lovely idea.” He hung up and left the phone booth, looking around as he tried to figure out exactly what Crowley would do. “Oh dear,” he frowned as he thought about it.
><
Two months. He tried to be evil for two months. Everytime he got close however, his conscience would speak up and he’d shy away from it. The first thing he’d attempted was pushing over an elderly woman waiting at a crosswalk. He made it to standing next to her, before feeling too bad about it. Instead, he offered his arm to her and helped her cross the street.
The next thing he tried was punching someone leading a protest. The man had been spewing all kinds of hateful words and Aziraphale just walked right up to him and punched him. That hadn’t worked either. The man was a bad one and if anything, he just did good by keeping other people from hearing the hate speech the man had been peddling.
Later he tried to take down the phone network. It was something Crowley had done before and surely that was quite the evil thing to do. The only problem was that he didn’t know how to work the phone network and it wasn’t like he could just put all the phone operators to sleep. The phones didn’t work like how they used to and that wouldn’t do anything to stop phone calls from being made. He also realised, as he tried to learn about phone towers and such, that if Crowley needed to contact him, he wouldn’t be able to. He was worried about the demon. He hadn’t heard from him since that last day and well, he wasn’t sure that Crowley wouldn’t go off and do something stupid.
The only idea he was really able to go through with was glueing coins to the side walk. He was making his way through London, a tube of superglue in one hand and a bag of coins in the other. He was quite pleased with himself for thinking of the idea. It was the perfect evil deed and he hoped that it would be enough for the Almighty to cast him down. He was kind of running out of ideas and he wasn’t sure what else to do if this didn’t work.
He just secured a coin to the sidewalk when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He straightened up, anxious about the fact he had been caught by someone. In front of him stood a woman in her late forties, or perhaps, her early fifties. She wore a cream colored suit, not too dissimilar to his own. She had kind eyes and smiled at him, her hand a gently presence on his shoulder.
“Oh, um...hello?” he greeted, clearing his throat. “I assure you this isn’t what it looks like,” he told her, feeling a bit flustered and rather like a child who had just been caught doing something wrong. Which he kind of was in this situation.
“I know what you’re doing, Aziraphale,” the woman said, her voice holding an authority he wouldn’t have expected.
He paused, thinking about an excuse before realising that she knew his name. He stared at her for a moment before his jaw dropped and he quickly tried to make excuses for his actions. “Almighty….I well, this really isn’t what it looks like. I’ve not been doing anything, really,” he lied, floundering as he tried to look for something to tell her.
“Aziraphale, you’ve been trying to fall,” she told him, not allowing him to come up with a story. The angel looked nervous, but the Almighty just smiled at him, her hand still resting on his shoulder. “You don’t need to. Gabriel was wrong.”
He opened his mouth to defend himself, but he stopped immediately when he was told that Gabriel was wrong. “So...me loving Crowley won’t hurt him?”
“Of course not. Although, your absence has hurt him quite badly. He’s not doing well, your demon. I’ve been receiving drunken prayers from him for the better part of a month,” God told him, finally removing her hand. “You should go to him.”
Aziraphale smiled widely, almost forgetting that the Almighty was there in his excitement. He didn’t have to fall to love Crowley. He could just go to him now. He could have an actual life with the demon, just like he wanted to. “Oh thank you. I have to go find him!”
He turned to leave before the Almighty grabbed his hand, squeezing it. She offered him a smile. “He’s at your bookshop now. And Aziraphale?” She paused and he looked at her, his chest full of hope.
“Yes, Lord?”
“You two have my blessing,” she smiled at him before disappearing. With her went the super glue and the bag of coins, which left just the coin he’d managed to glue down before her arrival.
><
Aziraphale didn’t waste any time. He immediately went back to his bookshop, knowing that he would find the demon there. His heart was swelling and he couldn’t wait to talk to his demon. The doors to his shop were unlocked and all the lights were out. As he walked in, he smiled, feeling the demon’s presence in his back room.
The books he’d brought with them were placed on his desk and he headed towards the room, a smile on his face. “Crowley, you’ll never believe who I just spoke to.”
His smile fell as he entered the room and saw Crowley on the floor. There were a few plants around the demon, as well as a couple books. The demon was using one of his misprinted bibles as a pillow, clutching it in his sleep. There were a few bottles of wine next to him, all but one of them empty. The one that still had some wine in it was almost empty though, perhaps only another mouthful in it.
“Oh, Crowley,” he frowned, kneeling next to him and shaking the demon’s shoulder. “Wake up, my dear,” he said softly.
The demon woke with a start, knocking over the bottle of wine next to him before he turned and stared at Aziraphale. His glasses were off and his eyes were slightly puffy, as if he had spent the better part of the last few months crying. “Angel! You’re back!” he said in disbelief before grabbing Aziraphale’s hands. “I’m so sorry I said I was in love with you. Clearly you don’t feel the same and I don’t want you to leave me again.”
“My dear boy, I didn’t leave you because of that,” Aziraphale smiled sadly at him. “I love you as well, you wily serpent,” he told him.
Crowley stared in disbelief. “Then, where did you go?”
“Well, you see, I had been told that demons could be killed by love and I didn’t want to hurt you. So I was trying to fall so we could be together.” Now that he was telling Crowley this and saying it out loud, well, it sounded awfully dumb.
“You what?”
“I was trying to fall!” he said defensively, unable to keep from smiling at the dumbfounded look on the demon’s face. “I didn’t though. I’m absolutely rubbish at being evil.” They both knew that. Crowley was bad at being evil, but Aziraphale? He might have been a bastard, but there was no way he could ever be evil.
“What did you try to do?” Crowley hummed, curious.
“Well, I tried to burn down a church. I lit two matches before realising that I wasn’t able to go through with it.” Aziraphale looked guilty now, like he regretted his plan of action. Crowley looked way too amused, his eyes full of mirth. “I also tried to glue coins to the sidewalk. I actually managed to do it once that time though.”
The demon started laughing, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale as if he were trying to prove to himself that the other was in fact still there. “What stopped you?”
“Well, God came and told me to stop.” The disbelief on Crowley’s face was back. “And well, she also said that we have her blessing,” he told him, smiling a bit. “So, Crowley, I want you to know, I’ve been in love with you for ages.”
“Me too, angel, me too,” the demon smiled, hugging the angel and refusing to let him go. They didn’t notice, too distracted by each other, the woman standing a few feet away from them. She snapped her fingers and on the desk a set of keys appeared. They were to a lovely cottage in the South Downs, as she was aware that Aziraphale had thought to retire there. Next to the keys, a note appeared, in a flowing gold script. “For the New Couple.”
She left them there in each other’s embrace, smiling as she felt better about how she had treated her two wayward children.