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Crowley didn’t want to die.
Not really, at least he didn’t think so.
When he’d asked Aziraphale for the holy water, he’d meant it when he said it was for insurance; just in case he got into trouble, that was all.
Now that he held the flask in his hand in his apartment, drunker than he’d been in centuries, the idea was tempting.
He wouldn’t be leaving much behind.
No humans to miss him, no demons that he could even call a friend.
Then his mind wandered back to Aziraphale as he stared at the tartan pattern on the flask.
Aziraphale would miss him.
Or would he? They were supposed to be enemies.
Maybe he really didn’t care about him.
It was just favours, that was all, just eating in cafés or restaurants to make up for miracles and the like.
Nothing would ever happen there.
He unscrewed the lid, the smell of it making his eyes water, staring into it.
It could be so easy.
He could just end it all now.
He was almost considering it, but the phone rang, and he almost dropped the bloody thing.
Quickly screwing the lid back on, he placed it on the table and came closer to the phone.
“Crowley?”
Aziraphale.
“Crowley, I know you can hear me. Are you alright?”
Crowley grabbed the phone, holding it to his ear. “Yeah. ‘M not planning on going anywhere.” He mumbled, sniffing quietly.
“Are you... crying?”
Crowley put a hand to his face, only to realise that it was wet.
He hadn’t even realised the tears rolling down his cheeks.
Rubbing his eyes with a groan, he sat in his chair. “Nope.”
“You sound tired, perhaps I should-“
“Pissed.”
“W-What?” Aziraphale stuttered, concern turning to confusion.
“I’m pissed. Think I drank too much.”
There was a moment of silence.
Then a sigh from the angel. “I’m coming over.”
“Nah I’m fine-“ Crowley started to mumble, but he heard a snap, and suddenly the angel was in the room with him.
Aziraphale glanced around, eyebrows furrowing with worry when he saw the holy water had moved from it’s usual spot, before coming over to Crowley.
“Why didn’t you sober up? You can do it when you want.”
Crowley shook his head half heartedly. “Don’t wanna.”
“Why not?”
When the demon didn’t answer, Aziraphale managed to grow even more worried. “Crowley.” He said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t wanna have to think about things.” Crowley murmured, barely audible, but he knew Aziraphale heard.
The shorter one looked at him for a few seconds too long, before smiling weakly, giving him a gentle nod. “Alright.” He went to the kitchen, subtly taking the holy water with him. Leaving a drunk person in a room with a literal weapon didn’t seem too wise.
He boiled the kettle, making them a cup of tea each, and brought them to the living room, placing the cups on the glass coffee table.
Then he went back to Crowley’s study, gently lifting him out of the chair, and helped him get to the sofa.
“Thanks.” The demon muttered.
Aziraphale sat on the arm chair opposite, and sipped his tea, frowning when he realised he didn’t have any biscuits.
That wasn’t important currently though.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Aziraphale asked after what felt like too long of silence.
Crowley quickly shook his head, sipping his own tea and putting a hand to his head.
He was too quiet. Usually when he was drunk he’d ramble or make more snarky remarks.
It was worrying.
Aziraphale wanted to help him; of course he did, he just didn’t know how to if Crowley didn’t want to open up.
So he sighed, looking at his friend. “You know, there’s this lovely new café near my book shop, they sell crepes and waffles. I went there last week.”
He was hoping that’d bring them some sort of normality.
“The food is delicious. I know you don’t really eat, but I’ll have to take you there sometime. Oh! There’s also this polite girl who keeps stopping at the shop. Today she got three books! She got one just two days ago, so she must be a fast reader. She’s ever so nice too.”
He glanced at Crowley, more hopeful when he saw that he was listening.
His head was slightly tilted, and he could see his eyes pointed at him through the sunglasses.
“The customers in general have been very nice lately. And that old lady? The one with the service dog? She came back after a few weeks, which was nice. It was good to see her, I was beginning to get worried.”
Crowley was sitting up now, resting his head on his hand, clearly watching the angel speak.
“She brought these beautiful cupcakes in with her and offered me one, so of course I couldn’t say no. She’s excellent at baking, clearly, because it was amazing.” Aziraphale smiled, finishing his tea.
Crowley’s lip was slightly quirked, showing that he felt somewhat better, and he patted the space beside him.
Aziraphale sat beside him, wrapping an arm protectively around him as he curled up against him.
They slotted together perfectly, almost like puzzle pieces.
This wasn’t the first time they’d done this, and Aziraphale knew it wouldn’t be the last.
He also knew that Crowley would tell him what was bothering him in his own time.
That was okay.
Nothing could hurt him while they were together.
Crowley shifted a little, laying more in Aziraphale’s lap.
That was okay too.
“Hey, angel?” He whispered, looking up at him.
Aziraphale smiled. “Yes, Crowley?”
“Thank you.”
“It’s quite alright.” The angel replied, combing his fingers through Crowley’s red hair. “I’ll always be here.”
The taller one slowly nodded, yawning quietly.
Aziraphale snapped his fingers, miracling a blanket and putting it over Crowley.
“I love you.” He whispered, but the other was already snoring.
“More than you know.”