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They stood next to one another, gazing at the sun setting, a comfortable silence looming over the entirety of St. James' Park. Crowley had his eyes half-closed, just taking in all that happened. Shoulders loose, neck no longer stiff and hands resting comfortably in his pockets.
Aziraphale, who never seemed to fully relax, had disappeared into his thought quite a while ago. And he knew his head was a dangerous place to be in.
He felt disoriented, a bit like he was flying. Though he hadn't done that in a long time... He missed it, sometimes. The wind running its cold fingers through the curls of his hair, the feeling of being lifted up by a single beat of his wings. His gaze shifted, no longer looking at the sun. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, actually. If you were to call his name, he surely wouldn't notice, nor realize that he even has one. Oh, wait... Isn't it being called right now?
"Angel?" Oh. No, that wasn't his name. Merely a reminder of who he was. An angel. Yes. But did that even matter anymore? Did anyone even care at this point? Wasn't it too complicated for it to be just "good" and "evil"? Was he even good anymore?
"Angel..?" There it was again. A reminder, as if he'd forgotten. As if he could forget.
"Angel? Aziraphale, you listening?" Oh. Oh.
The angel blinked, as if waking up. He turned to his companion and met his amber eyes split apart by his snake pupils, glasses abandoned who knows when, and they seemed to glisten and shine brighter than the setting sun. Except it had already set and now the sky was painted with shades of purple and dark blue. 'Oh, dear. How long has it been since we'd arrived?' Crowley seemed to relax a bit. "Good morning to you, too," he snorted, "are you alright?"
Aziraphale put on a smile. A smile that was just a little bit too wide, a bit too tense. "Perfectly. Just thinking, you know?" he answered, his voice quieter than usual. Crowley frowned in response. "Dangerous stuff, thinking," he remarked, "especially after today." Aziraphale nodded sadly, looking down at his hands resting comfortably on his tummy. His eyes went unfocused again as he let his thought flood him.
"I think we should go, angel. It's been a long day. Well, week. Well-11 years. Long time." Crowley yawned and turned to go, only for the angel to not follow behind. "Aziraphale," he called, "let's go home." When the angel did not move, he sauntered back over to him gingerly and played his hand on his best friend's shoulder. He jumped up in response.
"Hey, 's just me. Sorry, er.." Aziraphale looked at him and his expressions softened, his eyes glistening with the adoration Crowley thought he never deserved. Or, wait... Was that tears? The demon backed away, suddenly unsure what to do. 'Crap. Shit.' he thought to himself. Aziraphale blinked a few times, as if to hide it, as if he was completely fine. "Tickety-boo" echoed in his head.
How are you even supposed to react to that? While there are many answers to that, Crowley replied with a simple "Ngk."
They stood there, looking at each other, silence once again filling their surroundings. But not the comfortable kind they had when they came here. And wow, did Crowley miss it now that it was gone. So, he was the first one to break it. "Let's go home," he breathed, "please." Aziraphale's shoulders dropped and he watched the serpent of Eden, now his friend, with a tired look. "Right, yes," he simply said, now following after Crowley. Without any further discussion, they began walking home, side to side.
Because they had switched bodies, his bentley wasn't here since Aziraphale didn't drive it to the park. (Who knew how his demon might've reacted if he had.) And while one of them could just miracle it to be here, neither of them really wanted to. And so they walked in the streets, which were quieter than usual, and neither of them spoke. Not even when Crowley's hand hesitantly reached for Aziraphale's, and not even when the angel took it.
When they reached the bookshop and Aziraphale opened the door, they walked inside without question. Of course, Crowley was always welcome there, as if it was his home as well. (It was.) They sat on the sofa and conversed about everything and nothing. It didn't take long for wine to get mixed up and for laughter to once again bounce against the bookshop walls. Though Aziraphale had been quieter than usual, and his walk didn't quite have the same spring it usually had.
Crowley took a deep breath after the angel had gone silent again. "Angel?" Aziraphale was inspecting his hands, thinking about everything. And everything was often too overwhelming to process.
"Angel..?" he tried again. Now Aziraphale flinched.
"Are you alright? What's the matter with you?" The angel didn't move. And so, Crowley scooted closer to him and carefully took his hands into his, his grip light enough for the angel to slip them out if he wanted to. He didn't.
Their knees were touching, their hands were touching and their eyes met. And there was that glassy look again, as if he was about to break down. Crowley frowned again. "What's the matter?" he asked, putting all his effort into making it sound as soft as he could. A voice in his head rang, saying that he was a demon, that he shouldn't. But for his angel's sake, he did anyway. He lightly rubbed circles on Aziraphale's hands when he started to shake. His lips quivered and he lowered his head. 'Oh, please, no. Not in front of him...'
Silence for the third time. And third time's a charm, or something. Aziraphale, now almost panicking, felt like if Crowley moved even an inch, he would surely lose all control over himself. Crowley noticed. And he suddenly knew what he had to do.
He let go of his hands and carefully wrapped his arms around the angel, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He wasn't good with words, but a simple "It's okay." seemed to be enough. Aziraphale trembled, and his eyes stung. He returned the embrace.
And he started to cry.
The laughter once hanging in the air replaced by silence was now once again replaced by cries and sobs. The angel held onto Crowley, the only thing that never changed over the years. And change was scary. The times had changed and so had their sides. But Crowley never changed. Sure, his style, his hair, his glasses had, but he was still himself. Still the same old demon he met in Eden all those 6000 years ago. Back then, he had no idea how much the serpent would change his life. And now, he was the only one that stayed. The only one who wasn't all that hard to keep. And the only thing that made it easy to be.
Easy.
...
He listened to his thoughts, but did not comprehend them. Each screaming a different thing, a different rule he was supposed to follow. Don't cry. Don't talk. Don't object. Just smile, listen and go with the plan.
He wasn't much of an angel, was he?
"A pathetic excuse for an angel," another thought roared.
Crowley squeezed him tighter to hold him up before he even realized he was falling. Aziraphale let him, feeling his exhaustion seeping in. His head was too heavy to carry, probably due to the amout of overthinking he did. "You think too much." His limbs seemed to be longer than before, his whole body felt big and full. 'What is even happening?' he thought to himself. "It's okay, it's alright. Just breathe, 'kay? I got you."
Minutes passed. Maybe even hours, but no one was counting anymore. Aziraphale felt dizzy, his eyes were closed and his corporation gave out on him a while ago. His breaths slowed down and returned to the calm rhythm they usually came in. "Aziraphale?" Crowley whispered. "Hm?" the angel managed. With a relieved sigh, the demon tried again, for the third time. Because third time's a charm.
"Are you okay?" Aziraphale didn't respond, but his thoughts automatically uttered yes. "It's okay if you're not," Crowley continued, "I'll be here either way." His friend stayed silent, burrying his face into Crowley's shoulder was the only answer he could muster. Comfortable silence, this one the longest, weighed down on him like a weighted blanket and he felt his consciousness slipping away. He let out a calm sigh.
"Get some rest," his demon murmured, "I'll be here when you wake up." Aziraphale smiled, knowing he would be. After all, he's been here since the start. And this certainly was a new beginning. And even if the past were to drag him down, he knew he could rely on him to lift him back up.
And with that, his mind finally went silent, and for the first time in his existence, he let himself rest.