Archive of Our Own ^beta

There wasn’t much Aziraphale was certain of on Earth, not when autonomy sat at the core of human existence. Aziraphale did his best to remember there was no such thing as perfect, not with humans anyway, and he couldn’t always count on them to be “Good”. With every good deed, came two bad and chaos and destruction reigned just as easily as peace and love. Maybe it was because he was meant to be inherently Good and he knew how inherently Bad appeared, but learning to live with the disappointment of human behavior was one thing Aziraphale never got used to. 

Even so, as he wandered to the ends of the Earth to scratch that eternal itch, Aziraphale knew the one good thing he could always count on didn’t come from humans, or even Angels. It came from one very special Demon, Crowley; specifically his unusually kind demeanor toward humans, especially the young ones. As much as Crowley stood to deny it, there was a gentle, loving creature deep down inside that clawed its way to the surface with each interaction.

* 

On a typical summer afternoon, the sun rose high and beat furiously on a small Mesopotamian village. Everything the golden light touched felt as hot as fire. Throughout the village, men and women avoided working in the open streets, hiding in any sliver of shade to be found and fanning themselves with anything they could find. Children played in shallow puddles and climbed into trees to shade themselves. When it became too much, they clung to their mother’s leg, fighting for a chance to feel the relief of shade. 

As Aziraphale trudged around the village, slowing down from the heat, he noticed several men and women using their drinking water as a splash of cool relief against their skin. Aziraphale would much rather drink it than soak it in but at this rate, he would take just about anything. 
Aziraphale noticed an elderly man sitting against the wall of his home, dousing himself in water and now sitting in the puddle he created. With slight hesitation, the Angel kindly begged the old man for some water and when he obliged, Aziraphale took five gold pieces from his pocket, left them with the elderly man, and continued on his path. 

As Aziraphale came upon the outskirts of the city, high pitched laughter and small voices carried throughout the alleyways of the village like a song. A grin spread across Aziraphale's face. He could never resist the sound of joyous children, especially when he felt so miserable. Without thinking, Aziraphale followed the sounds of happiness, almost as instinct, until he came upon the source. 

There were scarcely any buildings in this part of the village. A few homes, but mostly barren with nothing but a few trees, patches of grass, and little sand scattered throughout. Upon looking out into the clearing, Aziraphale was immediately met with the sight of three children bouncing around a figure lounging under the shade of a tree. The children crowded around them, clearly excited, making it nearly impossible for Aziraphale to discern who was causing such commotion. After a few moments, the children scattered, running around the tree in circles chasing one another. As soon as the figure became visible, Aziraphale smiled. The hint of long, fiery red strands in between the blurred motion of the children told him exactly who was responsible for all the raucous; one very special demon. 

Aziraphale crept slowly toward the group, staying within the darkness of the shade along the wall of a nearby home. He watched as carefully as he listened, not wanting to disturb Crowley, or worse, scare him off. Aziraphale always seemed to embarrass Crowley when pointing out or mentioning his kind nature toward children. It wasn’t done with malice, of course, though Crowley seemed to take every ounce of praise personally as if it were his own form of torture. Today would be no exception if he were to discover Aziraphale watching him give three children from the village a kind of love only he could give. 

The two older children, Zana and Ishtar, who looked no older than eight, were loud and fierce girls. Strong heads on both of them. Their two big personalities often clashed, this summer day being no different as they pushed each other back and forth, fighting relentlessly over who would get to detangle and braid Crowley’s hair. Meanwhile the smallest of the children, Tamzi, who looked about five, stood cowering and fought just for a place by Crowley’s side.

Aziraphale bit his tongue, suppressing the urge to laugh. Crowley always managed to attract such spirited souls and he never once complained. Aziraphale accredited that to Crowley having such a spirited nature himself. Those of a similar nature tend to always find one another, that’s how Aziraphale justified it, anyway. Sometimes he wondered if that’s why he and Crowley found one another or if it was merely Her doing. They’re more similar to each other than they are different, aren’t they? Only She really knew. 

As the girls continued to fight louder, Aziraphale’s thoughts were broken and his attention was once again focused on Crowley. He could see the frustration in Crowley’s face building like a ticking time bomb. 

“Alright, you lot, settle down.” he said sternly, snapping his fingers. The children stopped running as a sudden wave of calm washed over each of them. Aziraphale could almost feel it too.
“It’s far too hot to be running around like a bunch of wild boars.” Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose, huffing.
“A what?” Zana asked.
“Nevermind.” Crowley waved his hand, dismissing the idea with a sigh. “Come over here.” 
“Can we touch your hair now, Allatu? You promised us last time.” Ishtar whined. 
“I’m going first!” Zana exclaimed, standing right in front of Crowley. 
“I should go first, I’m older than you.” Ishtar argued, pushing against her shoulder.
“You are not!”
“I am so!” 
“You went first last time. And the time before that!” Zana yelled. 

Crowley whistled loudly enough to shadow the girl's argument. They both stop instantly, turning toward Crowley. 
“Zip it. Or no one is doing anything.” Zana and Ishtar nodded in agreement. “You can all have a go, okay? Satan knows I have enough hair for everyone.” Crowley mumbled. He pointed to Zana and Ishtar. “You, here. You, there.” Pointing to either side of him, the girls followed his instruction without another word. 

Tamzi stood in front of Crowley with wide, wet eyes, suckling on his own thumb and clutching his tunic.
“I haven’t forgotten you, little duck. C’mere.” Crowley held out his arms, nodding. Tamzi crawled into his lap, cuddling into Crowley’s chest against the fabric of his black tunic. 
“You can have a go after they’re finished, yeah? Can fix what they’ve done.” He whispered and winked. Tamzi smiled. It was infectious. Crowley smiled back.

Aziraphale held a hand to his chest, feeling tears pool in the corner of his eyes. He considered being able to watch Crowley be his truest self the greatest joy. Since his Fall, Crowley fought with himself at every turn to be who he thought he should be, rather than who he wanted to be. It didn’t matter that he was a demon, Crowley was good. Aziraphale knew that, he would scream it from the rooftops if he could. Maybe Crowley knew it too, but unlike Aziraphale, he’d never say it. 

Crowley leaned back against the tree attempting to keep calm and relax. He held Tamzi close and rocked him while Zana and Ishtar yanked and twisted his hair in all directions. He winced once or twice before exhaling deeply as a sign of warning.

“You’re meant to be gentle, no? It’s not as if you’re pulling weeds from the Earth.”
“Sorry, Allatu.” They said in unison. 
“Gently now. Like this.” Crowley grabbed a section of his untouched hair and combed his fingers through it slowly. He split the section into three and weaved the hair together to form a braid.
“See? Slow and steady.” They nodded, apologizing once more before resuming their work, gentler than before. Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. 
Tamzi reached up toward Crowley’s hair, making a grabbing motion. Crowley grabbed a longer piece of hair from underneath; one of the few pieces not being assaulted, and held it out toward Tamzi. 

“Here. No pulling, ‘kay?” The child nodded, gently reaching for Crowley’s hair. He twirled the red strand around his small, chubby fingers, doing nothing of note. Tamzi looked up at Crowley, staring into his eyes. Crowley nearly closed them, out of instinct, but Tamzi wasn’t the least bit scared of them.  
“Pretty. Like the sun.” Tamzi noted, speaking around his thumb which still stayed comfortably in his mouth. Crowley bit his tongue, closing his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat that began to form. He patted Tamzi’s belly gently, turning his head to look at Ishtar. 
“I– You know, you may have hair this length too, one day.” Grins spread across both Ishtar and Zana’s faces.
“Will you braid my hair when it’s this long, Allatu?” Ishtar asked, as they combed their fingers through Crowley’s hair just as he showed them. 
“If you like.” 
“What about me?” Zana whined. Crowley rolled his eyes with a smile. 
“Yes, alright. You too.” They continued to tug on his hair, twisting it together to create several braids of different sizes. 

Tamzi’s grip on Crowley’s strand loosened, his hand falling softly as their eyes fluttered closed. Crowley raked his fingers through his course, curly hair, using the sweat to keep the hair out of his face. For the first time all afternoon, they sat in a moment of pure silence.

That, of course, didn’t last long. 

Ishtar’s brows furrowed, huffing several times. Crowley watched her from the corner of his eye, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. Her face grew increasingly more frustrated and her grip on Crowley’s hair became heavy.
“It’s not staying!” She cried, once again letting go of the braid that was slowly unweaving. “It always comes undone!”
“Shh. There is no need to shout.” Crowley held Tamzi closer as he stirred. 
“It’s ruined!” 
“Mine looks very nice.” Zana stated, far too smug, though she hadn’t been brave enough to let her braid go yet. 
“Enough” Crowley held up his hands. “Here-” He gave Ishtar and Zana a strip of fabric each from his pocket. “We need to tie a knot around the ends ‘member?”
“I don’t remember how.” Ishtar pouted, near tears. Crowley shifted Tamzi in his lap to free both his arms. 
“Look, just like this.” He took the braided strand from Ishtar’s fingers and wrapped the fabric around the end of the braid, tying a knot to keep it in place. “Nothin’ to cry over. It’s only hair.” He undid the knot and gave the fabric to Ishtar. “You have a go.”
Ishtar fumbled with the strand, trying multiple times to keep it in place. Once the fabric was in the right position, she copied Crowley’s demonstration and knotted the strand. 
“I did it, Allatu. Look!” She held the knot so close to Crowley’s face, he could barely see it. 
“Well done, you. What about you now?” He turned to Zana who tied her braid without incident. 
“I’m a big girl. I don’t need help.” Zana stuck her tongue out toward Ishtar.
Ishtar stomped her foot and scowled, sticking out her tongue as well. Before the girls could start fighting again, Crowley spoke up. 

“Alright then. Everyone finished?” Zana jumped in front of Crowley with a smile wider than the nile. 
“Not yet!” Zana ran toward a grassy patch clad with wild flowers.
“Hey, wait for me!” Ishtar called. 
Crowley shook his head. He would never understand a young girl's way of thinking for as long as he walked the Earth but he couldn’t deny enjoying their enthusiasm. As he waited for them to come back, Crowley wrapped his arm around Tamzi, watching him sleep. 
Their peace was soon interrupted again as the girls came back, giggling with an arm full of wildflowers. 
“Look what we found, Allatu!” They screamed in unison. 
“Oh Satan.” Crowley muttered. “Lower your voices.” He pointed to Tamzi, who somehow slept through all the noise. “Is that iris?”
“Yes! May we put them in your hair? Please?” Zana begged. 
“Yes, alright.” They jumped up in excitement. “But only a few.” 
The girls weaved the stems of the flowers into the braids, adding far too many for Crowley’s liking but he could never tell them no. Not when they were as excited as this.
“You look beautiful, Allatu.” Zana said softly. Crowley said nothing. After a minute, he exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“No need to lay it on thick. I already let you braid my hair. Don’t hafta tell me lies.” He chuckled, trying to keep the awkwardness out of his voice. 
“Silly Allatu, you are beautiful!” Ishtar said, putting the finishing touches on his hair.

“We’re done!” Zana exclaimed with a shriek so high, Tamzi stirred in his sleep.
“Well done.” Crowley held his finger to his lips, tapping softly. Zana and Ishtar covered their mouths, giggling. Crowley rubbed Tamzi’s back until he calmed, once again settling into the safety of Crowley’s tunic. With his free hand, Crowley reached into his pocket, pulling out two silver pieces. He gave one piece to each of the girls. 

“Run along now, so he may have a nap in peace.” Ishtar and Zana looked down at their coins and then to each other.  
“Thank you, Allatu!” They shouted in unison before running home to inevitably hide their reward. 
Crowley chortled, leaning his head back against the tree. He exhaled, closing his eyes. He sat in the silence of the day, soaking up the last few moments he knew he had. 

“I thought you learned your lesson about spying back in Eden, Angel?” Crowley called out. Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. He winced, stepping out from the shadows and waving.
“C-Crowley. What a pleasant surprise.” Crowley tipped his head up.
“I knew you were there, Aziraphale. You forget, I can feel you.” 
“Darn it.” Aziraphale cursed under his breath. “I didn’t mean to spy on you, Crowley. I didn’t wish to interrupt, is all. Children seem to be frightened off by men here.” Aziraphale walked with haste toward the shade of the tree. 
“I wonder why.” Crowley said under his breath, looking down at Tamzi. 
“So, didn’t wanna scare them off or didn’t want the the little buggers tuggin’ on your hair as well?” Aziraphale took one look at Crowley’s hair and bit his lip. 
“My, they are quite a spirited pair, hmm?”
“It’s that bad?”
“No, no. Certainly not any worse than I could do.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Crowley looked up at Aziraphale. “Well sit if you’re gonna stay. Make me all nervous standin’ over me like that.”
“Sorry.” Aziraphale took a spot next to Crowley, their arms just barely touching. “And who is this?”
“This is Tamzi. Poor thing has no mother and his father is the dreadful sort.”
“Dreadful?...In what way?” Crowley stared out into the emptiness of the desert, avoiding Aziraphale’s gaze. 
“Doesn’t look after him. Half the time he’s starving and craving a gentle touch.” Crowley caressed the back of his finger across Tamzi’s cheek. Aziraphale stared at the softness in Crowley’s face. It was a rare but beautiful sight, even if it did come from tragedy. 
“It’s good of you to look after him, Crowley.”
“He’s only takin’ a snooze in my lap.” Crowley said, a bit too defensive. 
Aziraphale sighed. 
“You know perfectly well what I mean.” Aziraphale reached out toward the child, placing his open palm gently on Tamzi’s forehead. 
“What in Heaven are you doing?”
“I’m blessing him.” Aziraphale closed his eyes, lifting his head toward heaven in prayer. 
“Lotta good that’s gonna do ‘im.” Crowley rolled his eyes, holding Tamzi closer to his chest.
“I couldn’t very well do nothing, could I? Not after what you told me.”

 Crowley looked between Aziraphale and Tamzi. At that moment, Crowley was unsure who it was harder to look at. The lump in his throat returned. He willed it to go away. Closing his eyes, he hoped the tears that felt so imminent would evaporate as quickly as they seemed to come. 

“You know, they’re not so bad… Kids, I mean. Right pain in the ass they are but they’ll tell you the truth. They know nothing else. So when they call you beautiful or kind, you’re supposed to believe them, right? When…When they tell you they only feel safe when they’re with you…” Crowley opened his eyes slowly, Aziraphale’s were staring back at him, glistening with tears. 
“Crowley–”
“Forget it. I don’t want to talk about it.” He whispered harshly, knowing he already said too much. 
“You watch over him when you’re together–”
“That isn’t enough!” Crowley cried, reining himself in with a controlled breath. “Every time he leaves my lap I am constantly plagued with the idea that I may never see him again. The fear that his father will let him go hungry to the point he’s so weak he cannot move or even… beating him until he breathes no longer. How is that fair? How can God possibly sit high and mighty on Her throne as she makes innocent lives suffer. And yet, She still thinks She is doing something for the greater good of humanity by allowing it?” Crowley’s voice trembled in a way Azirphale never heard before. He scooped up Tamzi and held them closer, breathing heavily to keep from crying. 
“It’s the great–”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Crowley grit through his teeth, narrowing his eyes on Aziraphale. Aziraphale raised his hands.
“I’m sorry–”
“Your sorry doesn’t keep him safe, does it?” Crowley barked. Aziraphale cleared his throat. The pain in Crowley’s voice hurt him equally as strong as Crowley felt it. 
“Y-You’re right. It doesn’t. And it’s not fair. I know that, but what can we do? We can’t intervene. We can’t keep him with us. He isn’t ours.” 

‘Ours’. The word echoed through Crowley’s head. It was nothing more than a constant mockery of a life he and Aziraphale would never have. Together or apart. 

“We can only look after him from afar, guide him, if you will. That’s better than young Tamzi thinking he’s all alone.” 
“He is alone.” Crowley said softly. Aziraphale shook his head frantically. 
“He’s not alone. He has you. He has me. Us.” 

Crowley looked at Aziraphale, properly, for the first time since he took his place next to him. The tears in Crowley’s eyes were undeniable, though he wouldn’t let them spill over. 
“I don’t want to let him go. Not yet.” Aziraphale put a gentle hand on Crowley’s shoulder. 
“He’ll be expected shortly.”
“Just another minute.” Crowley pleaded.
“What if I return your hair to its previous state while you give him a nice squeeze before he has to go?” Aziraphale offered. Crowley simply nodded, too afraid of what would come out if he tried to speak. 

Crowley shifted away from the tree, turning his back to Aziraphale. Tamzi stirred, eyes steadily opening. 
“It’s alright.” Crowley cooed. “Rest your eyes.” Aziraphale got to work plucking the wildflowers out of Crowley’s hair. 
“Would you like to keep one of these, Dear? They are quite beautiful.” Crowley held out his hand, receiving the wild flowers. He tucked one behind Tamzi’s ear, placed one in his pocket, and discarded the rest. 
“They certainly were determined to make these last, weren’t they.” Aziraphale looked over the mess of frizzy, tangled “braids” and undid each one he saw as gently as he could. Most weren’t secured with a knot, half unwoven, they were easy to remove. Working back to front, Aziraphale finally came upon Ishtar’s braid along the side of Crowley’s head. He ran his fingers over the smooth strand until he reached the knotted fabric.  
“Leave that one.” Crowley said quickly. 
“Right. My apologies.”
“‘S okay. I wanna keep that one.”
“And so you shall.”

With the last of the braids gone, Aziraphale gathered the ends and in sections, detangled the hair with his fingers. He used a careful touch, wanting nothing less than to hurt Crowley in a time when he was already hurting. He threw the detangled sections of hair over Crowley’s shoulder. With each section, Aziraphale looked over Crowley’s shoulder and watched as the Demon brushed his fingers through Tamzi’s mop of curls. The crooked sleepy smile on the child’s face made Aziraphale and Crowley’s heart feel as though it might burst. 

“Would you like me to do that to you?” Aziraphale asked in a hushed tone. 
Crowley snatched his hand away from Tamzi’s hair. 
“No.” 
But Aziraphale did anyway. Only once. Just so Crowley would know how it felt. Aziraphale’s fingers grazed against Crowley’s forehead, leading to his hairline where he combed his fingers from his hairline to his ends. Crowley’s head fell back slightly, following Aziraphale’s movement. 

“I’d say you’re about finished.” There was no happiness in his voice. A cold statement at best.
“Already?” 
“I can do something with it, if you’d like another minute?” Crowley exhaled.
“No. Can’t put it off. He’s been gone too long already.” 
A tender rocking woke Tamzi from his sleep. Crowley’s eyes crinkled watching Tamzi smile upon opening his eyes. 
“Did you have a good sleep?” Tamzi nodded. “I bet you did.” Crowley stood him upright, letting him get adjusted to his surroundings. Tamzi rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. 
“Hair.” He pouted.
“You can go first n-next time. Alright?”
“Promise.”
“Yes. I promise, little duck.” Aziraphale looked down, a shaky breath overtaking him just as much as Crowley.

Crowley reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver coin. 
“You remember what this is?” Crowley asked. Tamzi nodded. 
“You buy yourself something to eat before you go home. And don’t let your father see you, understand?” Tamzi nodded enthusiastically and took the silver coin from Crowley. “Thank you, Allatu.” Tamzi fell into Crowley’s arms wrapping his tiny arms around Crowley’s neck. Crowley hugged him back, but only for a moment. 
Otherwise, he’d never let go.
“Go on.” Crowley’s voice cracked but only enough that he noticed. Tamzi, without worry, ran off toward the village, waving one last time before disappearing into an alley.

Crowley didn’t take his eyes off of him until he was gone from his sight. At the last glimpse of Tamzi, he collapsed against the tree. 
Aziraphale walked around and knelt in front of him. He did the only thing he knew to do when words weren’t enough. Aziraphale held out his arms and despite every instinct, Crowley fell into his arms, burying his head in Aziraphale’s neck. 

If he was crying, he was silent. Aziraphale would never know.

Aziraphale felt the sadness, the anger, the disappointment pouring out of Crowley like a river. At times such as these, Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to stand before God and question her, he wanted to give Crowley his answers about humans. 
Instead, he couldn’t help but wonder what Crowley had done to warrant himself a demon, especially when it was never more clear in this moment just how much love and kindness he had to give.