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Crowley stood outside the building where he had been instructed to go. The sign read “A.Z. Fell and Co.” with “Antiquarian and Unusual Books” next to it. A bookshop, which held two extraordinarily powerful supernatural entities… and he had been the lucky demon who was supposed to capture one of said entities. For some reason, he was the one Hell believed was capable of retrieving the archangel. He had no idea why. He knew he had skills for temptation, but how much would that work on angels: the ultimate sticklers for purity and lack-of-sin?
All Crowley could remember was that he was a fallen angel, the Serpent of Eden. Not that he really remembered Eden or anything else. He figured Hell must have tampered with him in some way, which all but encouraged him further to do their bidding–seeing what they were capable of inflicting on him. Beezlebub had told him just a few hours ago that if he could bring the memory-lost angel to zir, then he could become a duke as the wanted poster said. Otherwise, a life full of eternal torture was in store.
“And don’t even zink about pulling your trickzz on us, Crowley. We will find you.”
Yeah, trying to get out this was a no.
And so he walked inside, facing the slight possibility of escape rather than guaranteed damnation.
…
Aziraphale stood from the armchair in the sitting room as he heard the bell over the shop door jingle. He quickly walked into the main room, where Crowley stood halfway through the door and appeared to be taking in his surroundings behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses.
“Oh Crowley, you really had be worried for a second,” Crowley snapped his head towards Aziraphale as the angel spoke hurriedly, “I sensed you leave Earth hours ago and figured you must have gone to Hell, but as you always say you’re not so much completely hated as seen as a unknown threat so I had faith you would come back safely. But are you alright, dear?”
“Oh uh, yeah yeah,” Crowley said, voice sounding a little unsure and almost like he was up to temptation, which was odd given the situation and Aziraphale’s obvious worry, “They wanted some information is all, but don’t worry—I was silent as a mouse!”
He gave him a smile for reassurance.
“Wha-where’ he at, anyway?”
“Oh Jim?” Aziraphale asked with a little wiggle at his cleverness for keeping the archangel a secret, “He’s asleep upstairs. You know humans, once the lights go out they go out too! I hate that you had to be down there so long but it is quite nice that you came back now so we can talk without being interrupted by him.”
“Oh yeah, Jim, right,” Crowley replied, some confusion in his tone, “Gotta love Jim, hope he sleeps well. But yeah it is-”
He stopped as he saw Aziraphale’s raised brows.
“Urrraaahhh anyway! I was actually referring to our archangel visitor,” Crowley said quickly, then said quieter, “Ya know, Gabriel…”
Aziraphale stared at him, feeling uneasy.
“Crowley…” he paused, then asked, “When did we get crêpes in Paris?”
Crowley froze. Azirphale did not break eye contact with the glasses, standing prim and expectant.
“Errrrmmm… how would I remember something as small as that?” he waved his wand casually, “I’m sure we’ve had crêpes many times!”
“When did we make the arrangement?”
“Well-”
“What's the name of your car?”
“Wha-”
“Oh Crowley, what have they done to you?” Aziraphale whispered.
This had to be Crowley, everything about him was the same. His appearance, his mannerisms, the way Aziraphale sensed and smelled him–it was all the same. But he didn’t seem to remember–
Oh.
“They took your memories, didn’t they, Crowley?” Aziraphale said sadly, “Just like Gabriel lost his. They sent you here to find him.”
Crowley said nothing, only further tensing up. The light shown just right so Aziraphale could see his serpentine eyes darting around behind his glasses, no doubt thinking of an escape plan from the angel who blew his cover and seemed like a threat.
“Look, angel,” Aziraphale flinched at the word’s lack of its usual fondness, “I don’t know what happened, but all I know is that Hell will have my ass if I don’t bring Gabriel to them. And honestly, if they don’t get him, they’ll come for you too.”
He made a small step to the right, glancing past Aziraphale. Azirphale took a step too.
“So let’s just make this easier for both of us, yeah? Just give me the archangel and I’ll be out of your feathers.”
“No… Crowley please, let me help you instead. You don’t remember, but I care about you.”
Azirphale stepped forward and carefully reached towards him. Crowley stepped back, arms going up in defense.
“Crowley, I’m not going to hurt-”
“Just tell me where he is!” Crowley shouted, getting visibly apprehensive.
“No!”
Crowley must have sensed that temptation and reason would not get to the angel, so he attempted to bolt past him. Azirphale jumped in front of him, but the demon dodged left and ran past him into the bookshop.
Aziraphale whirled around in a panic. If he finds Gabriel he’ll take him to Hell, and it will be over for everyone! I need to stop him, and I need to think!
With a shout, Aziraphale threw his arms in the air with a burst of angelic magic; sending himself and Crowley into another plane of existence.
…
When the angel opened his eyes, he saw they were in a vast expanse of white desert sand similar to when Crowley had stopped time at the Tadfield Airbase. Aziraphale hadn’t stopped time, however, but instead just took himself and Crowley into somewhere that was more or less the equivalent of Aziraphale’s own mind.
He took a moment to stretch out his white wings and take a breath, before facing his gaze to the demon in front of him. Crowley: his best, most beloved friend–who was looking at him with no recognition whatsoever. Only shock, confusion, and oh… even fear. He stood with his arms and obsidian wings out for balance at their sudden change in environment. Yellow had long overtaken the whites of his eyes that had lost their shield during their conflict. His pupils were slitted thin and darting around.
“Why,” Crowley said in disbelief, “Would you take us here? Wouldn’t this be your most vulnerable place? I could use hellfire and it would be like a literal bomb went off! Or are you about to smite me with just the pure holiness of your mind-”
“I need to think!” Aziraphale declared with a snap, freezing Crowley in place.
He stared at him for a moment. “Oh!” he fussed, before snapping again, this time sending Crowley flying into the desert, out of his sight.
Aziraphale needed to think, and seeing Crowley like this was not helping at all.
“What do I do, what do I do?!” he cried, pacing anxiously as tears began to fill his eyes.
“Crowley doesn’t remember anything! He doesn’t… he doesn’t remember me!”
Defeated, the angel fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands.
“This is all my fault… I should have checked on him when he didn’t come back. I should have never taken in Gabriel and started this mess, I should have been a better friend. And now…” he hiccuped as the tears fell openly now, “Now he’s gone. My best friend… I never even told him how I feel, and now he cannot remember all the moments we had together.”
He paused, thinking carefully.
I am in my own mind, in a way. It’s mine to control, I was even able to send Crowley away.
He lowered his hands from his eyes. If Crowley could not remember their history, perhaps Azirphale could show it to him.
Aziraphale closed his eyes and thought of when they met in Eden. The beautiful garden and vast desert not unlike the one he is in now. The two of them standing on that wall together. Crowley with his beautiful wings and eyes out for the world to see, the latter of which looked at him with so much curiosity and interest. The smile and kind words he gave Aziraphale.
Breathing in, Aziraphale concentrated on the memory. He exhaled and imagined it being right in front of him.
When he opened his eyes, he could see it, really see it, right in front of him. It was a small replaying of the moment with a glowing haze of pink and yellow around it. Azirphale gave a laugh of joy, smiling at both the fond memory and a possible solution.
Overtaken by a newfound determination, Aziraphale leapt up from the sand, threw his arms out, and let the magic of his mind flare.
…
Crowley stopped his aimless wandering as he sensed a wave of angelic magic off in the distance.
That can’t be good.
The magic strengthened, and he was suddenly surrounded by a fog of yellow and pink, twinkling like galaxies full of stars and–wait, there was something else too.
Cautiously Crowley stepped forward and looked closer. He gasped as he saw himself. But he looked different; with long hair and dark robes. He was grinning and tapping the angel on the shoulder like they were old friends. Crowley felt a wave of strange emotions.
He felt… sentiment? For this moment he could not remember?
He turned to the next scene. Him and the angel again, this time sitting on a park bench laughing together.
He turned in a circle, eyes growing wide as he took in all moments floating around him like a great nebula. They were all of him and the angel. They talked, they laughed, they argued–together throughout so much of the past.
The love was so strong in the magic that even Crowley could sense it. No, he was feeling it. Love for all of these moments. These memories.
His memories.
Crowley laughed incredulously, his eyes tearing as he walked about to see the memories he had with Aziraphale. He saw them drinking in the bookshop, watching Hamlet together, getting crepes in Paris, parting ways at the bandstand, in their disguises raising Warlock, toasting to the world at the Ritz, and with thousands more images shimmering in the galaxy that surrounded him.
Crowley stopped to gaze at the two of them on the wall, Aziraphale’s wing shielding him from the first rain. Showing kindness to a demon he barely knew. It was something Crowley would never forget, and loved Aziraphale for. For all of these memories, through the good and the bad, he loved him so.
He glanced beyond the memory of the Garden and found himself facing the real Aziraphale. The angel stood amongst memories, watching Crowley with a worried but hopeful expression.
Crowley smiled at him softly. “Angel…”
Aziraphale’s face lit up, tears of relief welling up in his eyes. He ran over.
Crowley met him half way with arms opened wide. They embraced tightly, Aziraphale burying his face in Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut as he cradled the head of the angel he had almost lost forever.
But the happiness of being reunited and of witnessing their past together again outshone the grief. They pulled their heads back to look into each other’s eyes.
No words needed to be spoken.
Both leaned in immediately, lips finally meeting in a surge of love and relief.
The kiss was gentle but full of passion and meaning. Surrounded by all of their history, they started the next chapter of their lives as they communicated their love for one another without any words. Crowley’s arms moved from the back of the angel’s head to his cheek, holding him gently as he hoped to show all of his adoration for him in their kiss. Aziraphale gave it right back, holding him as gently as he kissed him.
After a few moments they slowly pulled apart.
“I love you, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly.
Crowley took the hand Aziraphale held on his cheek and gave his palm a kiss.
“Love you too, angel,” he replied, looking into his eyes, “Always have, always will.”
…
We fly on love, love power
Love, love power
Just remember the memories
That show us the power of love