Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Whenever the people of earth determined what the age of the universe was, they were dead wrong. It wasn’t billions of years old or even a hundred years old. It was a little over six thousand years old. Crowley should know that. He helped develop it. He helped create the stars and galaxies that fill the night sky. He was there in the beginning and he still was when he fell. The stars and galaxies were all that he had left to claim after he became the main temptator of Hell. It was the one thing he still had carried of… well himself. God, herself, couldn't take the stars away from him. But the world was teeming with ignorance. Daft creatures, them humans, believing everything belonged to them. Yet, somehow Crowley possessed a sort of inclination towards them or he wouldn’t have let them name the last thing he ever created. Only just because they at least told him when his prized creation was coming home for the first time in six thousand years. 

Everything he designed had a name. Everything except his prize. He didn’t have a chance to when it was snatched away from him. It was only a comet. A flying rock that flew too close to the orbit of the planet. Its pale streak in the sky was only particles of it burning up in the atmosphere. It wasn’t spectacular by all means but it was special to him. It was the last thing he created before he fell. The last thing that he thought into existence before everything he held dear was ripped away from him. Most of his memories, his name, nearly everything. All of it swallowed up by the serpent he had become. His creations always seemed to mock him every time in some way. Something he had to deal with until he met a certain Angel of the Eastern Gate. 

For that, the humans named her Neowise only because a telescope saw her. But if he had the chance to name her, it would have been Zira after the angel who had found his way into his heart for the last six thousand years but he wouldn’t tell anybody that not even his Angel. 

“So… what’s going on with the humans lately?” Crowley finally asked over lunch, slowly spinning with his glass of wine. He had debated with himself on sharing his comet with his Angel ever since he had found out about her return. But he didn’t quite know exactly how to share it exactly. Sharing her would mean he would have to give it up and present it to him. It was like surrendering a part of himself. Only the part of himself would be going to his Angel, and he wasn't certain how he could handle that. Everything he seemed to touched gets hurt in the end. It was only a matter of time, “All I keep hearing about is something about a stupid rock in the sky.”

“Oh, my dear Crowley haven’t you heard? They discovered a new comet in the sky. They say it won’t be nearby for another six thousand years.” His Angel replied as he politely cleared his lips of the tiramisu that he had finished, “They named it the Neowise comet. Not very clever with the names, I’d say.”

“Yeah… clever.” Crowley replied, downing his glass of wine, grateful that his sunglasses hid some of the rare emotions that he portrayed. The closest Aziraphale ever got to see any emotion other than the usual was when he was drunk after his angel's discorporation. Then his Bentley blew up at the Tadfield Airbase. The entire day was simultaneously his best and worst living moment, "So clever."

“It is quite marvelous how humans can just find new things that had been around for centuries. It is like a child going through a toy box.” 

“Eh, I wouldn’t call it a toy box…” Crowley drifted off pouring himself another glass, staring at the dark fluid spinning around in the glass chalice, “perhaps a story that has yet to be told…”

Aziraphale’s hand gently touched his, forcing his thoughts back to his angel. His beautiful angel whose face was full of worry. A face that he would rather kiss away any trouble. “Crowley, my dear friend, are you alright? You seem quite -”

“Ngk, yeah-yeah I’m alright.” He quickly pulled his hand away, waving him off as he finished his glass of wine, “Just got a lot on my mind. That’s it.”

“Are you sure? You seemed bothered by something.” Aziraphale asked, his turquoise eyes furrowed in a state of worry. Crowley’s chest ached as he attempted to look away and stopped himself from just grasping his hand once more. Satan-no. God- most definitely not. Someone give him strength. There was no way that he could last not being able to say something about his comet to his angel. It was something he had to settle on his own until she was gone from the night sky. 

“You know you can tell me anything, Crowley. Anything at all.”

The serpent gave his angel a sad smile as his voice grew quiet, “ I know, Angel. I know. But I-” He sighed as he stood up from his seat and cracked his neck as he put on the well-made facade that he created so very long ago. He had to get out of this heaven forsaken restaurant. Just to go back to his flat, drink a copious amount of alcohol, yell at his plants for a bit. When that was done, just sit on the roof and stare at his glorious creation. Alone. “Well, that was a good lunch now, wasn’t it now Angel? Same time next week?”

Aziraphale looked fallen, almost hurt by the sudden change of subject. What its worth was his angel’s pain was temporary. He would likely forget about it the next time he saw him and next time refuse to bring up any sort of his comet. 

“I-erm-” Aziraphale stumbled with his words as he adjusted with his vest and jacket, “Yes, same time next week, Crowley.”

Crowley slivered out of the restaurant as fast as his legs could take him, refusing to look back at his Angel. There was no need to share his pain. No need to share his creation. It was selfish not to share his problems. It was selfish to be who he was, concealing the sole thing he had left from his best friend… no his… his… love. But selfish came with the territory of a demon. It was something he always was. 

*~~~~~*

Aziraphale sighed softly as Crowley briskly sauntered out of the restaurant, his corporeal lungs burning from holding the breath for so long. He hoped, he prayed that perhaps that he would turn back and say something. It wasn’t typical for him to be so… distant when it came to stars. He always knew that Crowley possessed a passion for them. Newton discovered gravity from him dropping an apple on his head and even convincing some of the ancient scholars of the Earth’s round shape. Even during the false apocalypse, he even suggested running away to Alpha Centauri. But over a comet? That seemed to be out of character for the sly serpent. His sunglasses could only hide so much and even Aziraphale could recognize that. This new comet meant a quite deal with him. More than he would probably ever know.

“More tiramisu, Sir?” The waitress asked as she claimed to bust the table.

“No, no that’s quite alright, dear. Thank you” He placed his hand into his pocket miracling up enough money to not only pay for the bill but to give the serving staff a handsome tip, “Here is for the bill, please keep the change.”

Aziraphale left before the waitress saw the tip that she had received. A miracle in itself for someone who had been struggling with bills and school. Some miracles in itself were just out of habit. Something he didn't have to think to produce. Making a normal person smile was easy but to make someone he cared about deeply; someone he loved was much more delicate. He hummed to himself, deep in thought as he walked through a secluded room and miracled himself back into his bookshop. He paced around the shelves, fingers grazing at anything that could pique his interest. It could be nothing; he had to remind himself. It could be one of those things that demons dealt with. Something that reminded him of the fall. It probably will be over by next week. But something told Aziraphale that it was not as easy as it looked when an ancient tome appeared on his desk. As if miracled by some unknown force, the angel walked towards his desk, staring at the traditional leather cover. His fingers running against its gilded title, the smell of Celestial Library filling the air. His eyes widened as he registered a name he hadn’t heard since the first war of Heaven and Hell. 

“Oh my…” he trailed off as he uttered the title to himself Kokabiel and the Night of the Fallen Stars.

Chapter Text

Crowley did what exactly he intended to do and he was rather enjoying himself. Two bottles of single malt scotch laid empty beside him as he laid flat on the roof of his flat. The stars were muted by the light pollution of London. Humans were so blind to not appreciate the beauty of the night. The beauty that was the universe. Granted, some were lucky to see it from a spaceship but nothing is better than seeing it up in person.

“Don’t you hear my call though you’re man-many years away...” Crowley sang loudly as he brought his third bottle of scotch to his lips, “ Don’t you hear me calling youuu? All your le-letters in the-the sand cannot heal me… like your hand…”

The bottle slipped from his hand and fell beside him spilling the golden liquid onto the black rocks. Crowley gasps softly as he pulls up his sunglasses, his golden eyes watching the light-colored comet shoot across the sky, its white tail still visible even with the sickly light “For my life.” He swallowed softly, his voice dry as paper, “Still ahead. Pity… me.”

The air grew tense around him; his forked tongue flickered as the taste of electricity filled his mouth. He groaned loudly as he could sense the being come into existence, sudden and sharp like lightning striking the Earth. A dark laugh filled the silence as the crunches of rocks forced the serpent to sit up, his sunglasses falling over his eyes as he looked for his visitor. 

“Oh how touching… I mean it. What a splendid performance.”

“Gabriel?” Crowley drunkenly laughed as he stumbled to his feet, the lens of his sunglasses barely hanging from the tip of his nose. The archangel finally appeared, his violet eyes glowing in the night sky, a sly malice grin on his face, “Ah! Gabriel! There you are, you sly bastard. Coming- Coming to pay a visit to little old me.” 

“I don’t think a visit is an appropriate term here, Crowley,” Gabriel replied as he shambled back from the drunken demon. His hands held up in disgust refusing to touch the vile creature in front of him. A face that told a thousand words, a face that refused to touch disgusting begin.

“So… so what brings you here then? I… I thought you lot were going to leave… us… alone for a while. But… but if you’re looking for my lo- ergh pal Aziraphale… he’s- he’s home. Probably… drinking some… lovely cocoa…” Crowley stumbled towards the spilled bottle, laughing as he nearly fell on his ass as he bent over to pick it up. He only became more disappointed when he had discovered how much of the liquid he had wasted. 

“I am here on my own… personal agenda,” The angel gave him a cruel smile as he stuffed his hands into his jacket, “No one knows that I’m here except for you, me, and some friends of ours. Which is perfect, I'd say for what I am about to do to you.”

“Oh and that is?” Crowley replicated the smile as he slivered towards him. His drunken senses forewarned that the angel who was supposed to be good had something dark up his sleeves. The scotch bottle in his hand slowly started to refill as the demon tried to sober up, “ trying to throw me in a pool of sulphur again? Or… or… ooh, try to pluck my wings, so I can’t fly… which was a dastardly thing to do I tell ya. Took a while for them to fully grow back. That was worthy of a demon, I say… You can’t make me fall twice, Gabriel… you’re fortunate I didn’t launch you in that hellfire that you brought into heaven… you know.... you really should’ve fallen that day.”

Gabriel shrugged with the sly smile on his face, “So you now you admit that was you as the dumbass-”

“Don’t you dare call him that.” Crowley hissed baring his fangs, the bottle of scotch in his hand virtually full, “He’s more clever than you any day.”

“But not clever enough to recognize who you truly are… K-”

“Don’t you bloody dare....” He hissed once more, the serpent in him begging to be released to send the sick bastard back to where he belonged, "That's my own personal secret now."

“Do you want to know why I’m here then. Crowley? Let’s say I’m doing you a favor.”Gabriel reasoned as he pulled out a small emblem from his jacket pocket, At one time, Crowley would’ve carried it and the ideas he had wanted to turn into galaxies and stars would go in there and soon come into existence. It was bronzed from age, untouched for over six thousand years of unuse. The black obsidian cracked revealing the under layer of the white opal of stars. Of course, it was back to mock him. Of course, it was the Dreamer’s Box that he had loved so dearly before the fall.

Crowley laughed as he tore his eyes from the box, “A favor? When angels like you are keen on doing favors. I don’t exactly know what you are planning here… but I suggest you go… or I’ll force your corporeal ass back to the heavens.”

“Well, The Almighty in all of her brilliant ways seemed to have forgotten to take most of your memories of your time in Heaven. You created the stars and such. You still cling to that pathetic little hope that you had left in her Grace. I’m just here to complete the job. Well…” Gabriel shrugged as his smile widened, “force you but that’s a whole other thing…. I think its kind of pathetic that a demon is still holding on to so much hope when no one really cares at all…”

In a flash of light, the angels Uriel and Sandalphon appeared behind Crowley binding his arms in celestial chains. The serpent howled in pain as his skin burned from the blessed metal, his body quivering as he tried to shift into his serpent form but unable to do. He thrashed to get away, but his body burned with an intense pain that threatened himself to discorporate. His body felt weak, buckling at the knees as he screamed for some sort of mercy but the angel's grip was firmer. He could feel every ounce of strength he had in him fading like the trails of his comet in the night sky.

“Like I said, Crowley. I’m only just finishing the job. Oh and don’t worry… your dear boyfriend will receive his end of the deal too.”Gabriel chuckled as he ripped off the demon’s glasses before unlocking the dreamer’s box.

*~~~~~*

Aziraphale spent most of the day and night reading the ancient tome that appeared on his desk. He had heard of the tale of the angel Kokaibel and how in celebration of the creation caused a thousand stars to rain over Eden. It was absolutely beautiful from his post in Eden, but it was quite short-lived.It was a shame really. The falling stars were quite enjoyable and ended far too soon. It made his time in Eden enjoyable at night. Well, until he had the beautiful serpent in the garden tempting the very people, he was supposed to protect. But he had always wondered what had happened to him. He had seemed to have disappeared from history with only this celestial book as the only tale. As Aziraphale turned the pages, his eyes caught on to the splendid illustrations of that splendid night. An angel with  brilliant wings flying in the night sky as the stars rained down from the heavens  holding what appeared to be a small gold lined obsidian box embedded with the stars themselves. 

“Hmm, that’s peculiar…” He hummed as he brought a magnifying glass over the face of the angel, staring at the angular features  with golden sun-colored eyes, bearing a face of great triumph. The angel’s long red flowing hair curling just below his shoulders like waves in the sea, “I say that looks like my dear Cr-”

The doorbell of the store rang followed by the door slamming shut. He looked up from his desk, his hand gently the magnifying glass, and looked at his pocket watch. It was just after midnight. the store would have been long closed by now. Did he forget to lock the door again? He had been getting into that nasty habit lately. “Hello?” He called out before standing at his desk, “Hello, I might have to ask you to leave. The store has been closed for quite some time. Please come back in the morning.”

Only the sound of shuffling permeated the stilled air. Aziraphale swallowed, mustering up the courage to investigate. It was possible that it could be Crowley wanting to finally talk about what was going on with him. He smiled hoping it was him. It was dreadfully worrisome to see a person that he had carried so deeply for being in such a state. 

“Crowley, my dear? Is that you?” He asked once more before silently going to his safe, unlocking it with a snap of his fingers to grab a thermos of Holy Water that he started carrying merely in case the Demons of Hell were back for vengeance. 

The shuffling loudly grew sounding like it was almost behind him. He quickly turned to find nothing but his unused reading chair. Aziraphale frowned, grasping the opened thermos tighter as he slowly turned back towards his desk. If it was his dear demon, he better reveal himself soon or he would be evaporated from existence, but if it wasn’t Crowley… 

“I will call the Police, I’m warning you. Better present yourself at once or-”

“Lord Beelzebub sends their regards…” A low dark chuckle echoed in the shadows, followed by blood-red eyes, “They wanted to be here… but they were rather enjoying themselves watching Crowley…”

Aziraphale stifled a gasp, his hands nearly dropped the thermos of Holy Water at the mention of his dear serpent. Impossible. He had just seen Crowley early that same day. There were no indications that he was being hunted. He would have told him what was going on. Would he? He swallowed as he followed the eyes stalked around his shop, trying not to convey any emotion. 

“They rather enjoyed hearing him scream for mercy, watching as their very essence leaves their body...”

“What?” Aziraphale whispered breathlessly as the shuffling grew louder, the sounds of claws scraping against the wooden floor. That was impossible. Who would do such a thing to Crowley? Were the Princes of Hell spiting them for not following the Ineffable Plan? He wished that he was there with him. To help him. For God’s Sake! Crowley needed him and here was staring down a demon with a thermos of Holy Water in his hands. But he just couldn’t… slay them. He just…

“I’m sure your friends from the sky would love to watch when I tear your body and form apart. Rip your wings from your body and devour you.” the demon growled as he slowly stepped towards the light. The monster was hideous, a beast of a lion with a mane of burning flames and a body of dripping blood. His claws were black as the deepest pits of hell and as long and sharp as daggers. He hissed, dripping poison from his fangs ready to strike at any moment.

Aziraphale was faced with a Daniel in the Lion’s Den predicament where he prayed for Crowley to save him from the impossible like he was always done. Crowley. His dear, beautiful serpent of a man was the only thing on his mind, his screams for mercy filling his head like he was there with him. For once, Aziraphale wished for once that he was the one to save him. To liberate him from the demons that seek to hurt him. There were no prayers or hoping that the miracle that was Crowley was to come. But friends from above… Oh Lord…did they finally catch on to their minor ruse?

“I’m sorry…” He swallowed as he felt his back push against his desk, watching as the wretched lion slowly stalked towards him. He shifted his hand back to the book of Kokiabel, grabbing tightly, “Please forgive me… but I require a… rain check.”

"There is no such thing as a rain check, Angel where you're going."

Aziraphale yelped, panicking as he tossed the thermos of holy water at the fiend just as the demon went to strike at him. The angel flinched pressing his back harder into his desk as the demon wailed and released high pitched screams. He closed his eyes as he slowly melted, his hundred-year-old wooden floor smoldering at his feet. The smell of blood and brimstone made his stomach twirl as black smoke filled his home. When the screams finally silenced, the smell of hell finally fading, he felt his body weaken from adrenaline leaving him breathless and tired. His body swaying as he tried to find his ground.

“Oh, Lord…” He breathed out staring at the scorched mark left on his wood floor. In all the years of his existence, Aziraphale had never injured or killed another being. A demon of hell or not. Aziraphale was always avoiding any harm with cunning words or just plain running away. But this? This was the first time he had ever executed someone over…love.

“Crowley.” The realization strikes him in mere seconds with only a single breath, “Oh Lord… Crowley…” he panicked as he snatched the book from his desk, the familiar face of the angel in his mind. He closed his eyes, only focusing on the one thing that mattered. Saving his serpent. Aziraphale snapped his fingers loudly fading from existence as the thermos rolled toward the center of the scorch mark of his former foe. 

*~~~~*

Crowley felt like he was falling, the air rushing into his ears, unable to breathe as his screams deafen him. Pain pulsed through his body like a raging flame, every cell of his body burning like heat from the sun. 

He felt like dying.

It is possible, he already was. For all he knew, this is what death felt like. All it was nothing but ;just pain. Burning, raging pain. He could feel his body melting, fighting to shift to a familiar form. A safe form where pain and agony never once bothered him. If he was going to die, he might as well die as the serpent that he was. At least Aziraphale wasn’t around to see it. If only… damn if only he could’ve told him the truth. If only he could have told so much more.

A bitter hiss escaped from him as his body was encased in stars and dreams that he long had forgotten. 

Chapter Text

Aziraphale appeared outside Crowley’s flat, knocking on his door first. He paced down the hallway, just waiting, the horrid feeling still plaguing him. He knocked once more followed by pressing the doorbell. But when that didn’t work, he started throwing himself at the door.. It took a few tries of just running into the door but resorted to just appearing inside of the flat. He would have to settle with apologies later but only after Crowley was alright. The flat was nearly unrecognizable in the dark, shadows clung to every surface that he could see. IT was cold, the warmth that filled the flat from the love that Crowley had for not only himself but his possessions. It felt  devoid of any life. The plants shivered in fear, timid of the intruder that walked in their presence. He stopped trying to sense him but merely felt dread. It was the type of dread that clung to him like the darkness in the shows of fear and intimidation. The Principality swallowed before calling out for Crowley. Just waiting for an answer but never receiving one. 

“Where are you, you blasted serpent?” Aziraphale asked himself, shivering from the darkness, timid of any surprise that could emerge from the shadows. 

The hidden wall creaked loudly as it was blown from a hidden wind as lightning flashed revealing a shadow of a serpent. A smile grew on his face, “Crowley! There you are, darling.I’m sorry for the intrusion this late at night. I just came here to tell you that I’ve had the worst of frights and believe me when I say this, I-” as he pushed open the door seeing nothing but his dear Crowley’s face covered in patches of blood red and obsidian scales like his serpent form, fresh wounds along his chest and arms bleeding onto the floor, his hands bound, burning from celestial chains “Oh my- Crowley!”

Aziraphale threw the book onto the desk and rushed to his demon’s side.  Running his hands over the chains, making them fade from existence, the burns along his wrists hissed and blistered oozing ichor. No matter how much Aziraphale tried to heal the worst of the burns, they came back. No angelic miracle could heal his serpent.  He was never made to be  healer, he was made to be a guardian.

“Crowley…” He whispered as he pulled the serpent’s head onto his lap, running his fingers through his mattered red hair, waiting for his golden eyes to open. Aziraphale prayed as his fingers danced across the patches of rough scales before resting at his cheekbone stroking,  only to wait for a miracle that was beyond his control. But, the serpent did not move. His chest did not take a painful breath, he didn’t release a hiss, nor call for his angel. Crowley remained lifeless, his skin cold as the dead. 

“This is what happens to those who don’t listen.”

“To those who refuse to become what they are meant to become.”

“To deal with the hand they were dealt.”

Aziraphale slowly looked up as The three Archangels: Gabriel, Uriel, and Sandalphon stood before him. Gabriel, smirked as he grabbed the book of Kokabiel, he fanned through the pages and laughed, “He screamed for you. Do you know that? Begged for mercy when I told him you were going to receive the same fate but worse. Hell has that sort of thing. They make things dastardly worse.”

“Gabriel… you did this?” Aziraphale muttered as he slowly stood up from his knees, “You did this to Crowley?”

“Uh.. well… yeah?” Gabriel scoffed as he flung the book onto the desk, “Did you like the chains? I thought the chains were the exquisite touch that I needed. And boy, it accomplished that job fantastically well.”

“What… did you… do?” Aziraphale stammered, his stomach growing sour at each passing moment. Crowley always told him that Hell were more dastardly with their punishments for disobedience. He told them that it was just a waiting game for when they were going after them. He thought nothing of it. His was going to be a strongly word memo for when they finally got over Crowley's act. But the Archangels actively punishing a member of the other sides? “Gabriel… what… did you do to him?”

“I only took the one thing he holds dear, Aziraphale… the last of his memories of Grace. Do you genuinely think a demon would be a good person? He fell and is a demon. They should’ve lost every ounce of Grace She had for them the moment they fell. You don’t grasp the difference, obviously. ” 

“Memories of Grace? He still had…” Aziraphale stared down at his serpent, staring at the angular features just like the ones from the illustration. He closed his eyes picturing Crowley celebrating the creation with it raining falling stars, his Dreamer’s Box clenched in his hands. It was all making sense then. Alpha Centauri, the comet, the book, the angel… 

“Kokabiel. ” He muttered softly as his gaze was brought back to the Archangels. “So… that’s it then? You wanted nothing but to torture him for being at heart, good?”

“Crowley is a menace to not only Heaven but Hell. It is just like you are a menace to us. We had to do what was right.” Uriel replied by holding out the Dreamer’s Box; he could feel Crowley in there. Weak, “We had to isolate him away for good. So he wouldn’t cause any more trouble. He’s gone. He won’t be coming back, not anymore. Let him go, Aziraphale. Let him not tempt you no longer.”

No. There was no possible way in Hell that he would just let him go. Not- not after all they’ve been through. It was impossible to let someone go when they have stolen your heart. “And what about the demon in my bookshop? The one who tried to assassinate me. He clearly said `friends from above’. Did you honestly summon a demon after me?”

“ Now, Aziraphale that was only collateral damage. You have been hanging out with him for too long and needed a little reminder of what angels are supposed to do. You did thwart the demon, yes? You still after all this time minging with the dull humans have a bit of a warrior in you. But like when we informed you last year and you had plenty of time to think. It is now time to pick sides.” Uriel coldly replied, hiding the box from his view.

“There… there… is... That's impossible. I can’t. I just can’t.” Aziraphale croaked stumbling away from Crowley’s body, “There is no side anymore when you have demons summoned after me, and angels forcing demons into dreamer’s boxes. We are supposed to be the good guys!”

“Well, sometimes being good isn’t as cracked up as it's supposed to be. Now pick our side or fall. That’s it.” Gabriel smirked as he pitched the book at him, “Either give up star chasing, tea parties and being what…whatever you do down here and be a genuine principality or be a demon like your boyfriend.”

“I…” Aziraphale grew silent, staring at the book in his hands, seeing it open to the page of Kokabiel falling, his wings turning back as soot. The other angels were observing him, not caring but laughing. All but one. An angel with violet eyes with an angered look on his face, torn feathers in his hands. He looked up staring at Gabriel and recognize the identical man who was merely trying to cover up a crime. A man who was only just achieving what he had started just to get better graces. Ultimately, Crowley was right. There was no heaven against hell. No angels versus demons. It was them against them all. They were on their own side and he was finally now seeing the light. Aziraphale’s voice trembled as his fingers gently ran against Kokaibiel’s pained expression “Were… were you jealous?”

“What?” Gabriel laughed, levelling his eyes, “What are you talking about? Jealous? Angels don’t get jealous, you should know that.”

“Were you jealous of Crowley for producing the stars?” Aziraphale pressed as he lowered the book down at the feet of his serpent. His eyes never once left the Archangel as he slowly approached the rabid creature that was Gabriel. In all the years of being soft, Aziraphale would never allow such a beast to employ fear over him.

 " Gabriel, on the final night of the creation when Kokaibel celebrated by having the stars rain down over Eden. Were you jealous only because he was more loved by Her?” When the Archangel remained silent, executing merely a malice grin. It was all that it took for Aziraphale to gather every ounce of bravery in his body to stare down the High Archangel. His stance never once faltering out of fear or timidness. 

“Were you so jealous to the point that you had to get rid of him? So jealous that you just forced him off, making him fall?”

Foolish. How could he have been so foolish? All the times Crowley had told him he didn’t mean to fall. All the times that he said he had ‘sauntered vaguely downwards.’ All the times he had said he had gotten in with the wrong crowd. He wasn’t talking about the Princes of Hell. No… he was talking about Gabriel and his envy. The worst sin of all. 

“You forced him off. That’s why he carried what he had left of his Memories of Grace. He wasn’t supposed to fall, but you made him.”

Uriel and Sandalphon looked uneasy, their shared glances between them as they took a step backward. Aziraphale huffed as he stared at Gabriel, “You are trying to conceal the crime. You had to get rid of him because he was causing a ruckus for you. His little stunt in Hellfire was causing too much talk. Too much talk of who he used to be. You wanted it to stop; you wanted them to shut it. So you had to finish the job. Finish the only job that you failed to complete. But to get rid of him, you needed to get rid of me so your friends in the wrong places sent a demon to kill me. Oh, you are just as bad as them. You are just a demon with an angel’s wings. Crowley shouldn’t have fallen that day. It should’ve been you. You were-”

“Shut it. Fucking shut it Do you ever shut up?!” Aziraphale gasped as a sudden pain radiated through his chest,  warm ichor bleeding down his chest, ruining his fine tartan vest that he kept perfectly for over a hundred years. He staggered backing, looking down at the blade, giving it a look of shock and betrayal . Gabriel huffed loudly adjusting his blood-stained sleeve, “Do not say I was supposed to fall. I am purely doing what is right for Her. She has no idea what she is doing. Fuck, we didn’t know her fucking plan. The so-called-”

Aziraphale coughed, feeling the blood seep from his lips, “Ineffable plan.”

“Yes! That! If She gave us a sign, then maybe just maybe we can get this goddamn war on!”

“Gabriel.” A bright light illuminated Gabriel, the heavenly voice from above singing down from the Heavens, “You called?”

Aziraphale smirked as he coughed falling to his knees before the light. He could feel his body tearing apart piece by piece, discorporating back into Heaven. His body was declining which wasn’t bad for a second corporation. He didn’t expect it to go with a sword in body but it will have to do. At least, She arrived. 

“Oh… Oh, Lord… uh... Almighty. Uh hi.” Gabriel stammered as he fell on his knees before God, the other Angels followed suit, Uriel releasing the dreamer’s box as they fell on their knees in silence. The box sliding to a stop near the principality as if by chance. 

“I hope you have an excellent explanation for this.”

“I don’t know what you mean, God. I am just thwarting evil like we are supposed to do.”

“That’s not what I’ve seen. Not only have you pushed an angel to fall and then tried to hide the crime by taking what’s left of his Graces by holding him hostage in a dreamer’s box… you tried killing an angel who was my moderator. Michael was right on their assumption that you were going to do a dastardly sin tonight. Of all nights, Gabriel? Let the demon Crowley-”

Aziraphale coughed softly as he fell to his side, the world was spinning at this point and he couldn’t tell if he was coming or if he was going. Time seemed to slow down, nearly to a stop. He smiled when he could hear Gabriel pleading for mercy, saving from falling. But it was extremely overdue, Gabriel had done too much to be saved. The bastard deserves what he gets and then some. He deserved so much more in his opinion. Aziraphale, in an ultimate moment of strength, slowly reached out towards the Dreamer’s Box.  His fingers trembling as he explored the glossy surface, running across the stars as he opened, hoping that maybe that will set his loved one free. It fell from his hands as another burning breath shuddered through his chest, his gaze upwards towards Heavens. He was about to close his eyes just as his vision was flooded with a sea of gold and crimson.  

“Angel! Aziraphale! Wake up! Wake up. You’re going to discorporate. You gotta wake up. I just-”

Aziraphale only smiled as his eyes fluttered shut altogether as the last ounce of his strength abandoned his corporeal form.

*~~~~*

Crowley awoke to the smell of brimstone and sulphur. The lingering scent of Hell that would require any typical human’s stomachs turn. He groaned as his wrists still felt like raging fire was kissing his skin, his body tired from screaming and felt like he was justified for another month's nap. But once the smell of Hell faded, blood took over. He patted himself down to find little remains of blood from his wounds. It wasn’t him, but he recognizes what it was. His angel laying on his side in a pool of blood with a sword protruding from his stomach. A rattle of breath escaped from him, his corporation now fading in the pale light.

“Angel! Aziraphale! Wake up. Wake up. You’re going to discorporate. You gotta wake up. I just-just hold on…” Crowley crawled to his angel trying to prevent more blood from escaping from the protruding wound.

Aziraphale’s chest shuddered as he took one last breath as he merely smiled at the sound of his voice as his body discorporated, surrendering only the sword. “No! Fuck! Goddammit!” He screamed as he cursed every angel that came to mind, “You bring him back! Bring him back! You did this to him! You hear me! You do not take him away from me again! You bring him back, or I will bring all of Heaven down with me!”

When no one replied, Crowley released a demonic growled as he kicked his damned dreamer’s box away from him. It was the last thing he wanted to see after he had lost another thing he held dear. With Heaven being how it was, who knew how long it would take before he would see his Angel again? It could be days, months, years, decades before Aziraphale would be allowed to possess a corporeal form. All of it was just too long. He was having to do it the hard way.

“I’m coming, Angel.” He hissed as he pulled a spare pair of sunglasses from his desk, no matter the cost. No matter the pain or how exhausted his body felt after the chains and Dreamer’s Box. He was getting his angel, no matter what happened. He picked up the sword testing the weight of the bloody weapon in his hand. The best way to make an entrance was to enter the front door. Crowley knew that was exactly how he was going to get every damn angel's eyes on him.  As long, Aziraphale was back in his place beside him, Crowley was happy. The Serpent of Eden was ready to bring all of Hell to the Heavens, only to have the sound of a book skidding across the blood-stained floor hitting his false wall caught his senses.

“What now?” He groaned as he kneeled over to pick up the bloodied book only to discover the illustrated picture of his face in mid-fall staring right back at him. Crowley lifts the sword to demolish it, to never see that night ever again. Right before he struck the sword down upon the book, a note appeared over his illustrated face,  just for him.

As Crowley carefully read the note, the sword fell from his hand, chattering at his feet with a beaming smile growing on his face. He tossed the note aside as he slammed the book close and ran with it in hand with fire on his heels. As the note gradually fell towards the ground smoldering at the edges, the writing in perfect calligraphy it merely read:

Crowley,

Be at your dear angel’s bookshop in Soho by quarter after seven.Don’t be late. He will need you for when he wakes up. Also bring him some breakfast. Get him a chocolate croissant or something sweet that he likes. Killing a demon and facing a trio of former Archangels had left him feeling peckish.

P.s: don’t forget the book. Make sure it is all nice and clean for him. You know how he is with his books. 

Chapter Text

Normally, when an angel discorporates they are sent back to Heaven to do a series of paperwork that will allow them to have their corporeal form. It is a check and balance system to make sure that angels overstep their boundaries. It could take hours up to centuries before the paperwork could be approved. Fortunately for Aziraphale, his paperwork was already approved long before this unfortunate discorporation. Call it a favor for being the unknown moderator for an experiment that was a year or so in the making. So when the morning comes, Aziraphale would wake at his desk after having a long night studying books about astronomy. He would have dreams of stars and galaxies, and it would be very peaceful. Trust me, I’m the one who designed it. But dreams only last so long before reality takes over. 

Crowley, on the other hand, would be walking into the shop right at quarter past seven, carrying breakfast and the book of Kokabiel in hand just as he was told just in time, only to find his angel waking up to the harsh reality that occurred the night before. 

Aziraphale gasped loudly as he sat up from his desk, his hands clenching at his chest where the sword had penetrated him. The sweet smell of a warmed chocolate croissant filling the air as he tried to catch his breath. He groaned as reached towards the phone panicking dialing a number that he knows by heart. He fumbled the numbers having to start over. Two times. No three times he had tried to get the number right. But he fumbled a number or two, getting frustrated every time. Not even noticing the Book of Kokabiel placed right beside it, nearly knocking it off as he dialed the accurate numbers in the right series of patterns. He breathed out a relieved sigh as the familiar dial tone rang in his ear but only went dead when a hand pressed on the switch. 

“No! Blasted it all to-”

“Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale let out a shaky breath as the familiar voice soothed his panic away. Perhaps, it was a big misunderstanding. Possibly it was just a dream. There was no way that Crowley would be at the shop this early. He shook his head, clearing doubts in his head as he tried dialing the number once more but the hand remained on the switch. 

“Angel…it’s okay. No need to call me… I’m right here.”

Aziraphale let out a shaky breath as he followed the hand from his phone seeing Crowley standing before him, his red and black scales slowly fading from his skin, and his sunglasses hanging from his nose showing his golden serpentine eyes full of love for the entire universe. He blinked to make sure it was real, his hands touching his, feeling the healing burns beneath his fingertips, causing his confused smile morphing into glee, “Crowley.” he finally breathed out as he stood up slowly from his desk to meet his demon’s gaze.

“Well, I see you had a bit of fun without me.” Crowley chuckled softly as he narrowed the space between them, their hands still intertwined, “Killing a demon with holy water… fighting the Archangels… getting yourself stabbed with a sword, all before breakfast too.” He chuckled as he held up the disposable bag and placed it on the desk. The air around them was fragrant and intoxicating, making Aziraphale weak in the knees“ Here I thought you didn’t have it in you to kill anything.”

“I-uh well… I couldn’t let you have all the fun.” 

“Oh really?” Crowley’s hand slowly trailed up his angel’s arm, pulling him closer to where their lips nearly touched, “Was it worth it then? Finding out who I was just to be discorporated and having tightwad Gabriel and the others fall?”

“If it was to save you… absolutely.” 

Crowley pressed a small kiss onto his angel’s bottom lip before pulling back, still refusing to let go of his Angel’s hand “If you went through all that trouble for a demon like myself, I guess I gotta tell you everything.”

“Over lunch?” Aziraphale replied hopefully, giving Crowley’s hand a tight squeeze as he refused to tear away from his golden eyes.

“Nah, I got something better.”

*~~~~*

That night, Crowley took his angel out to a secluded field, far from light pollution and the busy night light of London would disrupt them. Where they had a picnic, shared some kisses and Crowley told him everything. For the first time, he was willing to share a piece of himself with his angel. His words were like a song, telling a story from the very beginning that he could remember. From the creation of the stars and galaxies to the very end where he fell. Aziraphale never once let go of his hand, only gripping tighter when he muttered the moment Gabriel ripped everything from him. He was a demon who had clung onto hope for so very long that he felt weightless when he was finally allowed to breathe. He closed his eyes trying to gain the composure, tears stinging his serpent eyes. 

“Oh Crowley…” Aziraphale muttered softly long after the story was woven, giving his serpent a moment to breathe. He sighed softly as he reached pulling up the safe hold of the sunglasses away to stare at the eyes of his beautiful, majestic serpent star-maker. He cupped his hand to his face, wiping the stray tear that betrayed him only to kiss the bitter sadness away, “Crowley, you beautiful soul. You could’ve told me sooner. You didn’t have to suffer alone.”

“Suffer? Me? Nah…”Crowley cracked a bitter smile as he slowly held his angel’s hand, feeling the delicate warmth radiating through his fingers, “Call it a mandatory attribute of being a demon. It’s just part of who I am.”

“It is not. Don’t you dare you say that. You are quite more than you believe.” Crowley raised an eyebrow as the Angel scolded him for punishing himself. He chuckled softly as he silenced him with a kiss.

“Alright, I got it, Angel.” he breathed out against his lips, “No need to fret. It’s done… It's over with…”

Crowley felt Aziraphale’s skin tingle beneath his touch, his body melting into his arms as his words soothed him in mild temptation. He closed his eyes, allowing his head to rest against his blue-eyed angel. “Angel…I-” He paused trying to gather words that seemed so easy to say in theory but difficult to say in person.

“Hm?” Aziraphale hummed as he pulled away quietly.

“I um…er nevermind.” Crowley hesitated and laughed as he looked up towards the stars, trying to act as nothing had happened.

“No, Crowley. What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just I was going to say that I ugh… um… I-oh you know.” Crowley stammered as he looked up waiting for her to show up. He frowned impatiently, “Oh where are you, you gorgeous thing you….”

“No.. ?” Aziraphale smirked as he followed Crowley’s gaze, “I’m afraid that I don’t.” Aziraphale was a known horrible liar. It was just part of his nature not to be that good of a liar. Angels are supposed to not lie. They are the exposition of being good. It was only luck that Crowley didn’t see a loving expression on his face. He knew exactly what he was trying to say, but he felt it too. It was love. The air around them was full of it. It was just a little bit special for him to declare it.

“Oh, you do. Don’t pull that with me.” 

“Nope, I’m afraid I don’t. Can you please-”

Crowley chuckles as he slowly sits up from his spot, “Oh I know what you’re doing. You’re just waiting for me to say I love you. That’s it. I know you feel it. I know you know that I love you. I love you more than my very being. So don’t you play those games with me, Angel.”

Aziraphale sat up proudly as he had just won the most coveted prize on this side of Earth, he chuckled as he kissed him, “Well, I love you too star-maker.”

“I- uh… ngk… “ Crowley stammers briefly, ultimately seeing the game Aziraphale had played. A game they were both overly familiar with, it was a mental game of chess. In the numerous games they've engaged in over the years, Aziraphale had always found a way to get ahead and take his queen. He could have made a false move giving Crowley the lead but in the end, Aziraphale would always checkmate. This was his clever way to declare a checkmate, He hissed as he knocked him backward onto the blanket, smothering him with affection “Oh you clever bastard. You just had to get it out of me then, didn’t ya?”

Aziraphale chuckles softly “If I recall, you had once said that I was just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing… I merely wanted to see if I was just enough of one to be worth loving as well.”

“You are always worth loving. All six thousand and some odd years I’ve known you. Don’t you doubt another bloody second of that, Angel.”

Aziraphale beamed, his smile softly fading into a loving gaze. Time stopped for that one second, where two corporeal hearts beat as one. Nothing was stopping them. It was purely them. There was no war to prevent. No sides to have picked. There were no miracles or temptations to create. It was solely them designing the future how they desired it to be. It was only just them in a world that neither Heaven nor Hell could destroy. How grand life was for the two of them. An ineffable future for their taking.

Aziraphale’s focus broke when he watched a whitetail trail across the sky, “Oh my.. That’s…. Crowley look.”

Crowley rolled off of his angel, just as his prized possession started its accent across the night sky, “There you are… you’re late.” He joked as he silently took his angel’s hand and shared one last story. One story he waited to recount until his Zira came into a view. A story about a dreamer and his prized work and how he had waited for a long time for her to come back home. There was nothing to conclude him from sharing that one last piece of himself with his angel as they looked up toward the stars.