Chapter Text
It was the childish feeling of morning that exhilarated him. When it was still young and innocent- a blank page brushed only by the warm affection of the sun. He didn’t know how people could not adore such a thing. After all, he had never gotten used to the Earth’s beauty in all of the 6000 years he’d lived there. Lived and learned and felt and made discoveries his pure heavenly soul back at the beginning could never have pictured.
He liked it, of course. The rips and crinkles and splashes of colour on his own page, not quite white anymore though that had been the base for all. It was hard to decide if one liked sunrise or sunset more. Morning or evening. They were both evenly beautiful to watch but if one preferred the feeling of a day yet to explore or one in which everything had been done already was a decision formed by individual experience.
Aziraphale knew he’d lose it some day. The perception of being able to have a blank page every morning and return to an unstained state. He couldn’t anymore and he knew and it bothered him so he looked out of his heated bookshop and to the wide sky with the hope his thoughts could get lost somewhere in that infinity of reach.
Crimson stroked clouds were bracing this evening’s sky. It was so near that day Aziraphale would expect it to crash down on him if it weren’t for the strong colours keeping it at distance. Beneath it a car came to a halt, shouts disturbing the peaceful image of after-destruction. It bothered Aziraphale a little. “That’s not really his father.”, he remarked to the demon standing by his side just like he had done for all the past years and Aziraphale wondered whether he also was able to see the colours in the sky the human eye had not yet learned to process.
“It is.”, Crowley stated, then reformed his sentence. “It is now.” He turned to Aziraphale with a smile, waiting for the angel to look. “And it always was. He did it.” When they locked eyes, Aziraphale trying deeply to keep his reasonable face on, he wasn’t exactly sure of what to feel. He knew that somewhere behind Crowley’s dark glasses was a spark and a hope just like there was with the rest of the demon.
Perhaps it was too much of an exploration though since Crowley looked away after that, to Adam’s ‘real’ father and up to a sky that could have just as much been the receiving end of Mr. Young’s question as his son had been. “Yes.”, Aziraphale repeated only for Crowley to hear, relating to the man deeply. “What exactly is going on?”
He didn’t expect an answer to come, especially not as quickly as it did. “Well. Think I might have an idea about that.”, smiled Crowley. Blocking his view of the scenery of humans trying to comprehend things too great for their minds, Aziraphale found Crowley standing in front of him the next moment, gazing down to him. His hair was shining so red you almost thought he was a part of the sky. And he had been, for all that mattered now. “You and me, angel-”, he started with a voice as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulder, wings carrying him to heights he had never before reached. Reached out to Aziraphale now, hands cupping a startled face.
“We're on our side, now .”, Crowley whispered seriously happily and it were his last words before he overcame the distance and kissed Aziraphale on the mouth. His lips were so soft and the achievement so great, Aziraphale couldn’t help but give in.
Tender it was a feeling. Held safely by his world, one of many he had helped save a few minutes ago, a bond strengthening the universe couldn’t break anymore. A bond that would last forever, now? They were discovering something Aziraphale had denied they were even close to having a day ago. But it would come up sooner or later, wouldn’t it? In such a commitment you did those things, coming clean and all. But Aziraphale realised he wasn’t ready for it, and he was afraid he never quite would. It hurt like an old wound reopened- thousands of things he did and said under Heaven’s influence. And Crowley pushed like he always did- lips onto his and hands onto curls he had never dared to breathe on for all the time they had known each other. If they kept going, the angel would have to undig things from the symbolic graveyard he had buried many secrets under whenever the moon hadn’t watched. So Aziraphale let go.
An empty delusion haunted his ribcage, filling it to the brim in the one and shrinking in it the next moment. Something was pulsing inside of him, and not being able to find out what it was made him vulnerable and unangelic and angry. Aziraphale’s head spun, not held anymore.
“Wh-”, he stuttered, then yelled with a hushed voice, “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Crowley looked inexplicable to Aziraphale right now, mimic and aura as unreadable to him as all the other things in this situation were. “I thought-”, the demon started.
“Well, whatever you thought, for me this is nothing but inappropriate! Why would you even do such a thing?”, interrupted the angel, going on in a heated ramble. “Haven’t you learned anything?!”
“Haven’t you learned anything? I just- come on, angel, thought you feel the same!”
The angel choked on that thing. “I- I never felt-”, words came easy to him, in the worst moments. “I never felt anything for you!”
Crowley took a moment. When he did say something, it was not enough. “Oh.”, he said.
“Well? Aren’t you going to apologise?”
What Aziraphale saw then, his mind lost track of afterwards. “You have known me forever. When have I ever apologised?”, Crowley replied, almost sounding hurt if Aziraphale hadn’t known better than to believe that fraud. “I think it’s time for you to apologise.” And the world stood still.
“Huh-”, Aziraphale breathed loudly in that empty, noiseless space. “And for what?”, he asked.
“For- mh- breaking me.”, stated Crowley. “All this time. Your mouth speaks cruel words, Aziraphale, but your eyes don’t.” He paused for a while before continuing his confession. “Do you seriously think I can’t see, that I can’t taste the urge on you? Yet here you are. Denying everything I know you want. Hell, even everything we built up here.” Crowley seemed to give up on wanting to come through to Aziraphale and dropped his arms to his side loosely. “And it leaves me behind! The ‘demon’. Left and broken.” His words didn’t have a will anymore.
Maybe this was the first and only time they were being honest to each other- or at least one of the both. Aziraphale raised his chin and dared to look at Crowley. He didn’t like what he saw. “I have no idea of what you are implying.”, he hissed.
“Well.”, Crowley sighed, about to turn on his heels and walk off. “Then goodbye, angel. Come to me when you’re out of that thick head of yours.”
And that was it. That was it ? “Crowley! If you leave now there might be no coming back!”, Aziraphale yelled as a picture began to form in his mind he hadn’t seen before. In it was he, facing a flame without a hand to untie the strings chaining his misery.
Crowley laughed heartlessly. “I know!”, he shouted, then got angrier. “And don’t you dare think this is easy for me! That I am ‘enjoying’ this cause know that- just know that I’m not. Enjoying this and- and watching you suf-” Aziraphale’s head turned away. “See you don’t even care, angel! But that’s fine. I have dealt with this for 6000 years, I don’t think keeping to go a little slower will hurt me much!” The angel tried to hold back tears.
“Or!”, the demon pointed out. “Or maybe I should just not go at any pace anymore! Because why stick around someone who doesn’t give a shit about me?!” Instead of words, sobs escaped Aziraphale’s mouth, no matter how hard he tried to keep himself from falling apart at his friend’s words.
“Goodbye, Aziraphale.”, Crowley bit. Without a sound or a flash of light he was gone then. Leaving Aziraphale, the angel, left and broken. He was left to puzzle himself back together alone this time around and the unavoidable problem was that he had never learnt how to.
Aziraphale stood in front of Crowley the day after, saying much without words. Pieces of himself lay vulnerable in his hands then and when he looked back at it now, he still wasn’t sure whether Crowley had harbored those remains of an angel, or merely his hands. When it had been time to go, the moment attained oblivion and they stood still.
20/02/2022