Chapter Text
"And then she said 'They're cats!', oh, you should've seen the look on her face! Unforgettable.", the Doctor laughed. Aziraphale chuckled with his eyes closed.
"So then what did you tell her?", he asked. "I'm sure she was quite shocked!"
"Oh she was! Most definitely, yeah. Well, I just told her to not stare! With her looking all pink and yellow to 'em.", replied the Doctor and both of them broke into loud, heartfelt laughter. When it silenced and left just the remote swoosh of the Tardis working, Aziraphale spoke again, his voice soft.
"You both must have loved each other very much.", he said.
"Hm.", the Doctor hummed wisely in response. "I suppose so." They let it sink in.
"I'm so sorry it ended, then.", Aziraphale said, absent-mindedly. It seemed to have a bigger effect on the Doctor though, as he turned his head and mustered Aziraphale for a while. After those moments of thoughtful silence the angel turned and met the Doctors gaze. He tilted his head.
"I didn't tell you that.", he pondered, atmosphere very serious all of a sudden.
Aziraphale, as the angel he was, offered a light weighed smile, not because he was happy but because his aura began to transform, and he was hoping that the warmth of it would take off the tension. "You didn't have to, really.", he almost whispered, before the wideness of space. They sat in the door of the Tardis, legs hanging in space, a glass of wine in Aziraphale's hand. Behind them was an incredible play of colors the human eye had never seen and perhaps never will (even though science was repeatedly opening a variety of doors nowadays and ah, who knew).
The colors swirled around each other and mixed in an innocent and joyous way only children knew. When you poured two liquids in each other there was always this brief moment in which they hadn't quite mixed and just bumped into each other like explosives. It was what this view outside of the Tardis looked like but nothing like it at all. Stars hung around Aziraphales head in a constellation that made it look as if his halo was out. It was all very breathtaking. The angel tilted his empty glass so the remains of wine which never really vanished flowed over the glass and gathered on the rim but didn't go any further than that. The way the secrets of the stars reflected themselves in the tips of Aziraphales curls and how they made him look was all so godlike you would expect someone to stand there and drop grapes into his mouth.
Aziraphale exhaled slowly, the Doctors gaze still on him. "One of the angel's blessings. To- or curse, depends on how one sees it.", he interrupted himself, "To sense, well, I'm not certain what, exactly, but… just know that I always know when compassion is needed." Aziraphale took a deep, dramatic breath before continuing to speak. "And in your case dear- well, there are certain surges of loss when you talk about her. They are there with everyone you talk about, if I'm being frank. With Donna, I mean, I don't even think I could ever imagine to live with all those... memories.", he spoke and the Doctor was listening, actually listening.
"But it's never this drowning feeling as it is with Rose. Oh, I'm not saying you loved her most or- anything- well. It's just this incredible sort of-", Aziraphale was out of words. He gestured with his hands, then let them fall down on his lap. "I'm sure you understand."
"Huh.", said the Doctor. "Well.", he dragged and as he obviously tried to gather himself he sighed, let his regard wander off of the angel and out onto the depth and whispers of the universe to their feet. "Time isn't always moving in your favor, I guess. Space certainly isn't. Even when you can control it all, you know, even if you have all of it to own, it's still all, oh I don't know, just- weird.", he lectured, pulling a face. "We may be immortal but we shouldn't assume, not just for a single second, that time isn't running from us, too."
Aziraphale agreed. "Yes, it is it’s own silly thing, isn't it?", he murmured. The Doctor hummed, then it was quiet. Both of them watched the stars. There was a certain constellation they were located at but it wasn't that obvious which one.
"So-", Aziraphale paused. "Do you think-", he fell mum again.
"What?", asked the Doctor, dragging his head in Aziraphales direction as he wasn't continuing to speak. The angel shook his head.
"Nothing.", he said and stood up. "Perhaps I better get back now. Thank you for taking the time."
The Doctors smile returned for the first time since the conversation had went deep. He watched Aziraphale walking away, his bowtie brushing the skin showing where he had unbottened a few of his shirts buttons. "Oh Aziraphale.", he smiled in delight. "It's my greatest pleasure."
-
"Angel.", Crowley had said when Aziraphale got into bed beside him, after that same talk with the Doctor. Aziraphale didn't quite know what the intention of it was but he smiled at the word anyway.
"Hello my dear.", he whispered in the low tone his voice usually dipped into late in the evening. "Still awake?", he asked and as he lay down and tugged himself in he stared at where Crowley's face would normally be (although he wasn't able to see it in the room flooded with the color of night). They had - kind of - agreed to share this room. Then came sharing the bed and Aziraphale imagined they both felt the same meaning of it all but neither of them had made a move since then. He wanted to, for sure. He just couldn't always work up the courage to touch, fearing that it would become somewhat inappropriate.
Because there was this aura clinging on Crowley- this cold, blue sphere telling Aziraphale to just not. (Even though he did, sometimes) And he supposed he knew that all that was the result of their lack of communication with each other. But, you know, it was hard to get out of that. Cause they had behaved like this for millenia now, shushing things for the mere thought Heaven or Hell would hear.
"Mhm.", Crowley answered lazily. He probably wouldn't be awake any longer. Aziraphale smiled, it was adorable. "Angel?", Crowley said again. Aziraphale knew he didn't have to answer to let the demon by his side know he was listening.
It was silent after Crowley asked where Aziraphale had been. The angel wasn't certain why but the question seemed like a test. So he thought about his answer a bit, considering it would be attending judgement he wasn't aware the purposes of.
"Just out there.", he tried, pointing at the door of the room but then realized Crowley couldn't see and stopped. "With the Doctor. We were, well, talking."
"About?", murmured Crowley.
Aziraphale sighed. Crowley was way too tired to listen to the depth of the talk he and the Doctor had just had. Time is running from them too, the brown haired man had said and all Aziraphale had been able to think about had been this relationship his demon and him had been evolving since forever and how they had skipped a whole staircase in just a few days and now nothing was happening, as if they were trying to catch their breath on that floor they had jumped to.
He would talk to Crowley, he decided. The next day, he would talk to him. Yes, seriously talk.
Aziraphale moved his head closer to Crowley's direction. As he let it drop again, he felt something near him, so when he - out of pure curiosity - shoved his face a few inches towards it, it hit a wall of skin. Crowley's breath staggered for a brief second, a gasp coming from him. It was the demon's forehead his own had bumped against, Aziraphale realized. And neither of them moved away from this physical connection.
"Time.", the angel didn't whisper as much as breathed, because he had the creeping feeling that anything too loud would break Crowley's breath on his lips.
07/11/2021