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“All I’m saying is… if there was a way, Crowley…”
Crowley stifled a sigh as he climbed under the warm, welcoming softness of his sheets.
“Angel, just come to bed, please.”
“Well, you’d want it, wouldn’t you? If it was possible?”
There was a stone in the pit of Crowley’s stomach - small, but heavy and cold.
“It’s not possible,” he stated quietly, rolling onto his side and turning away from Aziraphale. “And you’re really making me regret inviting you to sleep with me.”
Crowley literally meant… sleep with him.
They’d just enjoyed a bloody fabulous shag, up against the wall of his bedroom - never even made it to the bed - and now, Crowley was ready to settle into the warm, sleepy haze of the afterglow. Preferably held close in his angel’s arms.
But his angel was pacing the floor as he shed what was left of his clothing, and having a not-at-all quiet freakout.
It was not the first time.
They’d done this quite a few times since their first - the night of the bombing at the church. One or the other of them kept finding excuses to see each other, to meet for some flimsy reason or another - and it usually ended similarly to this. Over the past few decades, it had happened with increasing frequency, and Crowley tried to tell himself that meant that Aziraphale was finally starting to warm up to the idea of an actual relationship .
And then, Aziraphale had to start talking utter nonsense like this, that left Crowley with an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach, and a cold tightening in his chest at the reminder.
“Still a demon?”
Yes, angel, still a demon. Never gonna be anything else.
“I’m sorry, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured as he slipped into the bed behind Crowley, settling the covers over both of them and sliding his arm around Crowley’s waist. “I didn’t mean to spoil the mood, it’s just… well, there is a war coming, and… when it does come, and Heaven defeats the forces of Hell…”
“Or is defeated by them,” Crowley pointedly reminded him, even as he took Aziraphale’s hand and drew the angel’s arm more snugly around his own body.
“ One side will win ,” Aziraphale insisted, a little huffy and flustered. “And the other will lose.” His voice softened as he went on, his hushed words touched with tenderness. “ However that plays out, Crowley - I’d really prefer that you and I were… on the same side.”
Crowley turned in Aziraphale’s arms, studying the troubled expression in his bright blue eyes. He softened, running a soothing hand gently over Aziraphale’s bare shoulder, down his arm.
“Well, we are, in a way, aren’t we?” he pointed out with a reassuring smile. “You and I… we’re our own side, comes right down to it. Don’t know about you, angel, but… I’d turn on Hell in an instant if it was them or you.”
Aziraphale’s expression crumpled with anguish, and Crowley realized he’d somehow managed to say the wrong thing. He felt a cold wash of uncertainty flow over him as he realized that he wasn’t actually sure whether Aziraphale’s reaction was because he couldn’t stand the thought of Crowley suffering for him… or because Aziraphale knew that in the scenario Crowley had presented, he wouldn’t do the same .
Or both.
“I don’t want you to have to make that choice, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s fretful fingers trembled as they fidgeted anxiously with the edge of the blanket.
“I know,” Crowley murmured. “But… it is what it is. And…” He swallowed hard, glancing up to meet Aziraphale’s eyes as he continued, “I am what I am. No unringing that bell, angel. I’m sorry.”
Aziraphale nodded. “I know.”
Crowley cleared his throat, making his tone light and careless in an attempt to ease the tension. “Anyway, the war’s centuries away, yeah? Will you just… stop worrying so much? It’s contagious. Go to sleep.”
“All right,” Aziraphale agreed, wrapping his arms around Crowley and pulling him in close, kissing the top of his head. “Although, ah… you know that I don’t really. Sleep.”
“So lie here with me and hold me until I’m asleep,” Crowley demanded, low and grumbling.
Aziraphale let out a soft sigh, and Crowley felt his nod against the top of his head as the angel nestled in close.
“Gladly, my dear.”
***********************************
Crowley was unsurprised to wake up alone in the bed, far chillier and less comfortable than he’d been when he’d fallen asleep against the soft warmth of his angel.
He was very surprised to see Aziraphale standing over him at the side of the bed, looming and silent - with a familiar tartan thermos in his hand.
The cap was off.
Crowley sat up slowly, his eyes locked onto Aziraphale’s faintly trembling hands.
“Angel,” he began, low and cautious. “What are you doing?”
“We can’t keep going on like this, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s tone was strange - soft, but tight and desperate. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me…”
“I haven’t done anything to you,” Crowley assured him, edging across the bed a little, toward the other side - putting a couple more feet of distance between himself and the thermos. “I - I haven’t tempted you into this, if that’s what you think. I would never. You - you wanted to be with me…”
“I do,” Aziraphale confessed with a solemn nod, his words hoarse and aching. “Still. Always will, I fear. And we can’t , Crowley, don’t you see? Not like this. But… this way…”
He held up the thermos, nodding again almost maniacally, with a bright, desperate smile on his face.
“Everything will be better once it’s done, don’t you see? We won’t have to hide anymore! No one can say a thing about our… connection . Our… our love .”
In the glow of the hall light, Crowley could see the tears shining on Aziraphale’s face as he whispered the word he hadn’t yet ventured to speak aloud… though Crowley could feel it every time they came together for these secret, stolen trysts.
“We’ll be free to be together, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, fervent and pleading. “We’ll actually be on the same side! ”
Crowley had reached the opposite side of the bed, and he swiftly got to his feet, holding up his hands in front of him in a pleading, halting gesture, eyes darting toward the door.
“That’s a myth , angel, we don’t even know if it works! ”
Aziraphale flinched a little, eyes guiltily downcast for a moment before he met Crowley’s gaze again.
“I do.”
Crowley went very still, staring at Aziraphale as he processed the implications of those two simple words. Aziraphale winced, letting out a shaky sigh.
“I would not take a chance on simply destroying you, Crowley. Do you really think I’d do this if I hadn’t already made sure it would work?”
“You’ve… tried this before.” Crowley felt a dark shiver pass down his spine. “Who did you kill , angel?”
“That’s just it. I didn’t kill anyone,” Aziraphale explained, an unnatural calm, a note of triumph to his quiet words. “It worked! Just as the old stories say - with the right blessing spoken along with its application, holy water has a purifying effect on a demon. It restores , rather than destroys. It works. I’ve seen it for myself.”
Aziraphale went silent, drawing in a breath before meeting Crowley’s eyes again.
“You haven’t wondered why Duke Hastur hasn’t troubled you recently?”
Crowley froze, his heart racing with sudden, terrifying realization.
Aziraphale had done this before.
Bloody fuck, he’s serious about this…
“You won’t be a demon anymore, Crowley,” Aziraphale declared with urgent anticipation and a terrifying, beaming smile. “Everything will be perfect!”
He began to move around the foot of the bed, placing himself between Crowley and the door as he closed the distance between them.
“Please, my dear, just let this happen… just let me save you.”
Crowley was left with no retreat, closed into the corner between his bed and the wall as Aziraphale moved toward him. He felt very frightened, and very hurt… and more alone than he’d ever expected to feel in the presence of his angel.
He swallowed back a sob, blinking tears from his eyes, the words slipping from his lips in a hoarse, anguished whisper.
“I didn’t think you thought I needed saving.”
Aziraphale’s face fell. “Oh, Crowle y…”
“I wouldn’t have you any different, angel,” Crowley insisted, pleading and frantic, holding up his hands in a defensive posture as Aziraphale continued to close in on him. “If there was a way to make you like me, I wouldn’t take it , Aziraphale, please …”
“I just want you to be safe,” Aziraphale said softly. “The both of us. Safe, and free to be together without consequence… without judgment…”
“Without judgment? ” Crowley echoed in panicked disbelief. “In Heaven? Where they kicked me out for asking questions? Where they didn’t want me? ”
“ I want you,” Aziraphale whispered with quiet, earnest ferocity, tears flowing freely down his face.
Crowley shook his head slowly, despairing. “ Do you?”
Aziraphale hesitated just an instant - lips parted, visibly distressed by the question. Then, his jaw set with determination, and Crowley saw it, the second before the angel made his move. Crowley tried to duck out of the way, but there was little room to maneuver.
The splash of holy water struck his shoulder and ran down his arm - and in seconds, half of it was boiled away, a gory mess of blood and blackened flesh and screaming agony consuming him as he collapsed to the floor with a strangled cry.
Aziraphale gasped, staring down in horror at Crowley’s mangled arm.
“Just do it! ”
Crowley snarled as he glared up at the angel through furious, anguished tears, overwhelmed with the sense of irreparable betrayal and the certainty that there would never be any joy left to be found in this world - not for him. Not anymore.
“Just go ahead , if I’m not enough for you!” he screamed. “If what you want is someone else , someone that’s not even me , then fine! You know what you’re going to do, so get it over with! But I will never forgive you for this, angel!”
Aziraphale stood over Crowley, quiet and sorrowful, a mournful resignation in his eyes. His words came out soft and certain, and devastatingly tender.
“You won’t remember that there’s anything to forgive.”
Crowley wept, clutching his damaged limb, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see it coming as Aziraphale lifted the thermos for the last time. A brief flare of searing heat as the holy water touched the top of his head…
And the demon Crowley was no more.
**************************************************
Aziraphale couldn’t quite summon up the nerve to walk over and introduce himself.
He admired the beautiful, red-haired angel - Heaven’s newest - from a distance for a while, racking his brain for some excuse to approach. His heart ached with helpless longing - until at last he was noticed and gifted with a breathtaking smile. Sparkling emerald eyes shone upon him at last, with the same innocent anticipation with which this new angel seemed to view all of his surroundings.
So curious… always was so curious…
That thought brought a strange sinking feeling to Aziraphale’s stomach, a sense of... inevitability .
Curiosity can’t help but lead to questions…
“Hello.”
Aziraphale blinked, startled to find the breathtaking, familiar stranger inches from him, looking him over with bright, eager eyes.
“I’m Kokabiel. What’s your name?”
“Aziraphale.”
Kokabiel frowned slightly, puzzled. “Have we met?”
Nothing but questions, such thirst for learning, sooner or later it’s bound to come out...
“I, uh… I don’t think so, no,” Aziraphale lied, looking away and swallowing down his guilt.
“It’s just that you look familiar. Are you sure? I’m sorry, I haven’t been here long.”
Aziraphale’s own curiosity momentarily overwhelmed his shame.
He had always wondered how this sort of thing worked.
How much does he remember?
“Oh?” Aziraphale keeps his tone light and only mildly interested. “Where were you before, then?”
“I’m not sure, everything’s a bit hazy, but… the others say I was on an assignment and experienced some sort of… traumatic injury. That this is all normal enough, and I’ll feel just fine very soon.”
His stunning green eyes clouded a bit, a troubled expression passing across his dearly familiar face, and Aziraphale shivered, remembering golden eyes shining with tears - glaring up at him in betrayal and desperate defiance and so much pain …
“Don’t even know what normal is,” Kokabiel muttered, shaking his head a little, but he smiled when he looked back up at Aziraphale. “Don’t seem to know much of anything just now. But I suppose I can always ask.” He shrugged. “Can ask you , yeah? You seem to know your way around here well enough.”
“What? Oh, yes. Quite right,” Aziraphale agreed quickly, casting a wary glance around them as he moved forward and slid his arm into Kokabiel’s. “Any questions you have, my dear, you can feel free to direct them to me, happy to help.”
Kokabiel looked down at their joined arms in surprise that slowly shifted into delight, before looking up to meet Aziraphale’s eyes again, something softening and warming in his sharp, intelligent gaze.
Too sharp, too intelligent… too many questions, already.
If anyone else happens to notice...
“Where are we going?” Kokabiel asked, light and oblivious to Aziraphale’s foreboding thoughts, as Aziraphale led him away, in search of someplace less visible… less public.
Somewhere they could get to know each other again with some privacy, and without the prying eyes and judgmental ears of the rest of their Heavenly family.
“Do we ever go anywhere besides here? Heaven, I mean. Are there other places? And... what do we do? You know… for fun? ”
Ceaseless questions.
Going to have to find a way to curb that. Teach him… mold him, if I can, just a little, into something… safer .
To protect him. From the others. From Falling.
From himself.
“Patience, my dear,” Aziraphale murmured, patting Kokabiel’s hand on his arm. “All in good time. And we’ve plenty of that, don’t we? Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that you learn absolutely everything you could possibly need to know.”