Chapter Text
Aziraphale spotted him just up the street. It was definitely Cowley, but he looked different somehow. Maybe it was the way he was walking, straight and stiff. Perhaps it was that he had not stopped to check his reflection in the shop window, just to make sure he looked cool.
He ran across the walkway to greet him with a smile on his face. It had been a few months since he had seen Crowley and was worried about what was wrong but he was not as worried as he was excited.
As Aziraphale charged up to Crowley with a smile on his face Crowley jumped and hissed. His eyes were not their usual bright color, but a dark brown. Then he bolted back up the street the way he came from and into the alley. He seemed to be running away but that made no sense whatsoever. For one there were much better ways for the demon to escape than running and for another the alleyway was a dead end and Crowley was immediately cornered.
Aziraphale moved slowly now. Keeping his voice deliberately calm. "It's okay." He had never seen such a wild look in the demon's eyes. He was also panting at this point. Whatever had happened to Crowley was obviously not good. "Crowley, I can help you."
"Crowley?" His eyes darted around searching for the word. His hands clenched in knuckle white firsts.
"Yes." Aziraphale took a slow soft step forward. "I am Aziraphale and I am your friend Crowley. I would like to help you." He gradually moved closer. The tension did not leave Crowley's muscles, but he did not try to bolt either. "Would you come with me back to the bookshop? It is just up the street here. There we can sit and talk."
Something Aziraphale said seemed to resonate and Crowley followed looking like a cowed dog afraid at any minute an sharp stick would strike his hide.
They walked in silence, entered the shop in silence, and sat in silence for a few minutes. Crowley still had wide eyes and clenched fists. He sat on the edge of the seat with his feet taught on his toes as if waiting for the moment he would have to bolt.
"I think some tea might be good." He didn't want to leave even for a moment so he miracles two nice hot cups.
Seeing the cups spring into being Crowley jumped and started pacing. "No. No. No. Not possible. Not real. No. No. No. Can't go back."
"Okay," Aziraphale spoke softly. "I am sorry that the sudden appearance of the teacups upset you, I won't do it again without warning."
Crowley cautiously sat back down.
"I made it just how you like it if you would care to try it. I am guessing you have been through a lot in the past few months. But you do not have to talk about it if you do not want to."
Crowley took a sip of the tea, it was just as hot as he liked it and just the right amount of sugar. "How do you know how I like my tea?"
Aziraphale considered this for a moment with everything that had happened since he first saw Crowley walking down the street. "You and I, well we have known each other for a long time and have learned a great deal about each other."
"I don't want to go back."
"I have no intention of sending you back anywhere. Where is it you don't want to go back to?"
"The place. If I see things that aren't there, things that aren't possible they will take me back."
"I see." Someone had obviously done something to Crowley to mess with his mind. "No more magic tricks then. No problem."
"I really should get back to my place. The parole officer is coming in an hour. I have to meet him."
So at least he knew he could find Crowley at his flat later. "Would it be alright if I escorted you home? I know you might not recognize me but I have been concerned about you since the last time I saw you. Do you remember?"
Crowley shook his head. "But if you want to come with me I wouldn't mind the company."
They walked out of the bookshop and Aziraphale turned towards Crowley's flat but Crowley went the other way. Aziraphale went after him. He didn't understand much of what was going on and Crowley still had that skiddish look to him. But he didn't just want to let him loose confused and scared as he seemed.
They walked for several minutes until they came to a fairly run down building where Crowley grabbed the door. "Do you want to come in?"
"Well, I don't have to if you would prefer me to leave now, as you don't remember me. I understand that to you I am a stranger and I respect your privacy. I will come up of course if you would like. I just don't want to press you."
"S'alright." Crowley shrugged, and gestured for him to follow.
The flat was small. A room with a kitchenette a small sofa and a bed in the corner. There was a door to, what Aziraphale guessed, was a washroom. And a stack of actual bills with the name Anthony Crowley on the envelopes. Some of which were marked urgent. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink. Aziraphale resisted the urge to check on the food situation.
"Not much I know, but a place to sleep at least."
"It appears you do keep it nice and tidy. How long have you lived here?"
"Just three months, since I been out."
"And where do you work now?"
Crowley ran his hand through his hair and looked down. "Right now I am just doing some odd jobs. Here and there."
"Well I was thinking about hiring some help at the shop, so I can go out and it can stay open. If you would be interested."
Crowley's jaw dropped. "Erm, that would be great, but I do have a record, I mean would your boss be okay with that."
Aziraphale chuckled a little at this. "My dear, I run the bookshop. I can hire whoever I like."
Crowley raised his eyebrows at this. "That leads me to another question, you like me? I mean how did we supposedly become friends? I don't even really remember who you are and here you are offering me a job. What exactly would you expect me to do for you?"
Aziraphale worried for a moment that Crowley might think he was suggesting something untoward. "Not much, just cleaning, inventory, helping customers. I will let you think about it." Aziraphale moved to leave before he spooked Crowley. "You are welcome to call me and come by the bookshop to discuss it." He took a notepad and pen out of his pocket and jotted down his name and number. "I understand it must be disconcerting for me to recognize you and yet you do not recognize me. We actually met in a garden of all places. Though I doubt you remember it, it was quite a long time ago. If it does not come back to you that is fine, I see no reason to not make a fresh start. I hope to hear from you soon."
With that he excused himself. He didn't want to overwhelm Crowley and the conversation actually felt like trying to avoid many land mines. More than 6000 years of land mines actually. He did however hang around for a while across from the building. He wanted to see who Crowley's parole officer was. The person who came up to the building, a good fifteen minutes late actually, had a definite demonic aura about him. He wasn't one that Aziraphale recognized.