Chapter Text
There is a house built of stone
Wooden floors, walls, and windowsills
Tables and chairs worn by all the dust
This is a place where I don’t feel alone
This is a place where I feel at home
(Aziraphale’s bookshop, after body-switching sequence)
Aziraphale
“Crowley, my dear boy,” Aziraphale leaned back on his well-worn armchair, he was quite exhausted after the day they had had. “I’m sorry to cut this short but…”
“Yeah,” Crowley put his sunglasses back on and got up, “I got to get going anyways. Need to clean up the mess in my flat after, you know, what happened to Ligur…” He glanced around nervously.
“Ahh, right.” Aziraphale noticed the demon wringing his hands, “Is there something wrong, my dear?”
“Nope, no, nothing’s wrong?” He turned to leave, but then stopped.
“Aziraphale…”
“Yes?” His eyes searched imploringly as if waiting for something.
“I… I lo- I’d really love to have more, more nights like this…”
Aziraphale smiled somewhat sadly, “Me too, Crowley. Tomorrow?”
“Sure… g’night, Angel.” Then he really left, leaving Aziraphale alone.
Aziraphale frowned, he had hoped, he had really hoped. He shook his head at his foolishness. After all, how could a demon love an angel?
“No matter. As long as I get to enjoy his company, what does it matter if he doesn’t reciprocate my feelings.” He thought that, but, in reality, it felt like his heart was shattering. After all they had been through, Paris, 1793, St. James’s Park, 1862, London, 1941, Soho, 1963, hell… they had just stopped the apocalypse together. All the laughter, the secret meetings, the fights; did it mean nothing? “Buck up, Aziraphale,” he said to himself, “it’ll be okay. It’ll all work out in the end it’s… it’s, ineffable. That’s what it is… ineffab- “
Tears began to run down Aziraphale’s face. He put his face in his hands, trying to choke back a sob. The pain, oh the pain. It spread slowly from his chest, consuming his entire being. It was agony, complete and utter agony.
Aziraphale sat up in realization. What if- what if Crowley HAD loved him!? However, every time Aziraphale stalled the relationship, Crowley had lost a little more hope. Oh, how could he do that to Crowley? The emotional turmoil he must have felt… Aziraphale shivered at the memory of Crowley’s face when he had said those awful words, “You go too fast for me.” How many times had he said that he and Crowley weren’t friends over the millennia? How many times had he hesitated? He thought back to yesterday when Crowley had asked him to run away with him. The hope and longing in Crowley’s face as he desperately tried to show Aziraphale the truth, but Aziraphale hadn’t listened. Was there anything, anything that he could do?
He could- he could try and talk to Crowley tomorrow. Apologize for all the pain that he had caused him. Yeah, that could work. He would swallow his pride and ask for forgiveness. His face showed newfound determination. He stood up to grab a book off of one of his many bookshelves when he heard voices behind him.
“Why so sad Aziraphale? Does your boyfriend not love you back?” A voice mocked.
The hairs on Aziraphale’s neck stood up as he turned around. “Michael, Gabriel, Uriel, wh-what are you all doing here? I thought we were done with this.” Aziraphale stammered, failing at trying to sound any sort of confident.
“Not quite, Aziraphale. You may have avoided death, but you’re about to experience something much, much worse.”
“I-I don’t understand.” Fear began to take over Aziraphale’s senses, adrenalin coursing through his veins. Panic had replaced the pain that he was feeling in his heart.
“Oh, you will,” Gabriel motioned at Uriel and Michael and they began to head towards Aziraphale.
“What- what are you doing?!” Aziraphale tried to back away, but the other angels were too quick. They gripped his shoulders and forced him down. Aziraphale gasped.
“Now, Aziraphale, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.” Gabriel chuckled and walked towards Aziraphale, and he noticed for the first time the sword in his hand. “The easy way, you willingly open your wings for us, and we get this over with, pure and simple. The hard way, we force you to open your wings, ultimately causing you way more pain. Now, choose wisely, you don’t get a second chance.”
Aziraphale honestly considered option one for a brief moment. After all, it was the simplest path, but then he thought of Crowley. What if Hell was after him too!? No, Aziraphale needed to at least try to escape Heaven’s evil clutches. Crowley’s life as well as his own depended on it. He started swinging wildly, trying to escape the angels’ grasps.
Gabriel frowned, “I see you’ve made your choice. You two! Open his wings!” Aziraphale struggled to free himself but groaned in pain as his wings unfurled, tearing his shirt and vest apart. A white expanse filled the small area, knocking over bookshelves and various other items. Michael and Uriel were taken slightly aback, they had never seen wings so white, so pure. It scared them. In Heaven, everything was the same, from clothing choices to wing patterns, nothing was out of place. Aziraphale was always a little strange, but this was…. different, and not in a good way. They looked up at Gabriel, not sure what to do.
“What are you doing! I thought I told you to hold him down!” He snapped and they scrambled back towards Aziraphale. Gabriel stepped towards Aziraphale, who was still struggling to escape, despite the aching pain in his back.
“You know, I’m am going to enjoy this so much. I knew you were always a little odd Aziraphale, but seriously, loving a demon. Now, that’s just foolish. Are you really that stupid?” He brandished the sword, pausing to admire its dangerous glow, before continuing. “Can’t you see, he doesn’t love you. He never has. He just felt sorry for you, Aziraphale. How pathetic is that? A lowly demon, feeling sorry for an angel, how preposterous!”
Aziraphale had stopped struggling, taking in Gabriel’s words. “He’s right, isn’t he? How could Crowley love me? He couldn’t! I’m too pathetic, too soft! Too soft… too pathetic… not good enough… not EVER good enough….” He looked down at the ornate carpet, “I…. I…”
Gabriel laughed cruelly, “Now, to work….” He raised the sword above his head, bracing himself, before bringing it down in one graceful swoop.
White-hot pain spread from Aziraphale’s right shoulder. Aziraphale wanted to do scream, to writhe in pain, but he couldn’t speak anymore, he couldn’t move anymore, he couldn’t breathe anymore. Gabriel raised the sword and again brought it down, this time on his left shoulder, but Aziraphale barely took notice, however. He was vaguely aware of the golden liquid that was running down his back and chest onto the carpet, but he didn’t care. All he could think of was, “Crowley… not good enough for him… never good enough… Crowley… too soft… pathetic…,” over and over again in his head. It was like an endless record, doomed to spin for the rest of eternity.
“Why isn’t he screaming!? He… he’s not doing anything! Why isn’t he doing anything, Gabriel?!” Michael panicked; this wasn’t supposed to happen. Their plan was falling apart before her very eyes.
“Calm down Michael!” Gabriel snarled and grasped the sides of her collar, “We accomplished what we came here to do. Now, let’s get out of this wretched place, I can only take so much of this dump in one day.” Michael and Uriel nodded and regained their composures. There was a bright flash of light and the bookshop was empty again.
Aziraphale continued to lay there as blood dripped onto the floor, his eyes glassy.
(The Bentley)
Crowley
“Goddamn it! You just had to say three, THREE simple goddamn words! What a fucking coward I am… I’ve had six thousand years to figure out my feelings and I couldn’t even bloody say it!” He rained blows on the steering wheel. In response, the Bentley began to play Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy just to spite him.
Crowley groaned and placed his head on the steering wheel. He had arrived at his flat, but he didn’t want to go in, not yet. “I know, I know, it’s just… it’s just so hard. We’ve had to hide for so long…. And I don’t want to hurt him. I already almost lost him once, and I don’t want that to happen EVER again… But I need to tell him the truth; I at least owe him that.” He sighed and there was no noise, except for the soothing noise of the radio, for quite a while. Then, Crowley spoke…
“Right, I need to tell him tomorrow. Sit him down and tell him. If I don’t say it tomorrow, I never will. And if he doesn’t feel the same way… if he doesn’t feel the same way, I have to accept it and respect his decision. We can still be friends…. Yeah…..”
He sat up real fast. Something was wrong. Something was wrong with Aziraphale! As he revved up the Bentley and sped back to the bookshop, Crowley felt a sense of déjà vu. This was exactly how he had felt when he saw the smoldering form of the bookshop not long ago. In fact, it was only two days ago. Had it really only been two days? To Crowley, it felt like an eternity had passed. He shivered, that had been one of the worst days of Crowley’s life. He had never actually lost Aziraphale before, sure they had gotten in plenty of fights and near discorporations, but Aziraphale always came back. But the fire was different…when he thought he had lost him for good to those pricks…. Well, it had hurt Crowley a lot more then he’d like to admit. Aziraphale was the most important person in Crowley’s life, he was the only one who understood him. If Crowley lost him… he wouldn’t know what to do… Life would…. become meaningless… He prayed to someone that it was just a false alarm and Aziraphale was okay. It would be a story that they would chuckle at from time to time. How overprotective Crowley could be sometimes.
He pulled up and quickly got out of the car, the pit in his stomach dropping further down. His hands shook as he reached for the doorknob. He took a breath and stepped in.
“Aziraphale…? Angel…?” he cautiously walked around, looking for any signs of danger. He sniffed the air… multiple angelic presences had been here, fairly recently too. His pace began to grow frantic at the sight of the overturned bookshelves. If they hurt Aziraphale…
“Azira….” He stopped, not believing what he was seeing. It was Aziraphale; there was blood all over him, but he didn’t seem to care. Those bastards…. those bastards actually cut off his wings! Crowley stumbled towards his angel and tried to think of something…. Anything that could help Aziraphale.
“Aziraphale! Aziraphale, you’re- you’re gonna be okay, alright…” Fuck, there was so much blood, why was there so much blood?! He tried to pull Aziraphale off of the floor without causing him too much pain, but that was easier said than done. Once Crowley sat him upright, he noticed that, throughout all of this, Aziraphale had not said or done a single thing. The Angel’s face had an empty look that shook Crowley to his core.
He… he couldn’t be dead, otherwise, his physical body wouldn’t be here, but… but he wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he moving!?
“Aziraphale! Aziraphale, I need you to move or say something, then I can fix you right up, okay?” Tears started to form. He tried to wipe them away, leaving streaks of Aziraphale’s blood all over his face, but he hardly noticed. “Angel… please… just say something… anything! Please…” He sobbed, hoping he would hear that lovely voice…
But there was nothing… nothing but silence as Crowley wept.