Chapter Text
Crowley had no idea what he felt in that moment, he just knew it was Not Good. He’d never felt like this in his life, and he never wanted to again. It was like a jumble of things, all of them very negative and very intense. He was angry, he was hurt, he was bewildered, he was scared out of his mind, and infinite other horrible things.
Currently, he was walking towards the door, ready to walk out on Aziraphale forever, but he stopped and turned around, looking at Aziraphale. Fucking hell, he was still so beautiful, and in that moment, Crowley hated him almost as much as he loved him. Aziraphale had made him feel all the horrible things he was feeling, and he was so angry at him. He wanted to hate him, but he couldn’t. He never, ever could. Not properly.
“You idiot. We could have been…” He shook his head. “No. You’re still not getting it. I have to make you understand,” he said to himself as he crossed the room in a couple of strides, grabbed Aziraphale by the shoulder and spun him around, then grabbed the lapels of his coat and hauled him into a kiss.
It was an incredibly passionate kiss, but it was not sexy at all. It wasn’t supposed to be sexy. This kiss was a plea, it was a declaration, and Crowley poured every last ounce of himself into it. He could feel Aziraphale’s hands touching him tentatively, and he longed for the angel’s arms to go around him. Stay with me, his heart cried. Stay with me, please, God, please stay with me.
When he broke the kiss, he opened his eyes immediately to look at Aziraphale, and he felt sharp dread when he saw that Aziraphale looked stunned and almost dismayed.
“I love you,” Crowley said, laying his heart bare more than he ever had in six thousand years. “Do you understand me? I love you. Don’t go where I can’t follow.”
Aziraphale continued to look almost horror-struck, then he said in a voice that was breaking, “I forgive you.”
Crowley physically recoiled from the words, and he felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest. Stabbing him in the chest would have hurt less. He took a step back, his eyes fixed on Aziraphale, then another step, and something inside of him broke when Aziraphale didn’t break. He was rather sure it was his heart cracking down the middle.
“Don’t bother,” he said, and turned to leave. He threw open the door to the bookshop - probably for the last time ever, he thought to himself - and he could feel Aziraphale’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He needed to get the fuck out of there. His heart was screaming in anguish. His heart felt like the pits of hell sounded.
As he was crossing the street, he spotted the Metatron coming towards Aziraphale’s shop, and if Crowley had had the power to, he’d have destroyed him right on the spot, right in the middle of Soho. He glared at the Metatron with all the hatred he could muster, and his hatred only grew when he saw the Metatron smile at him smugly.
“Won’t you be joining us, then?” the Metatron said in a falsely-sweet voice, smirking.
Crowley had never wanted to kill something in his entire existence, but he wanted to right then. So, so badly.
“You want him? He’s yours. You win,” he said with as much venom as he could put in his voice.
The Metatron chuckled. “Of course I did.”
“Fuck you.” Crowley considered spitting at his feet, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough, so he didn’t bother. He just continued to walk to his car, absolutely seething.
When he got to the Bentley, he yanked open the door, completely determined to get the fuck out of there, to get away from the whole situation - but he couldn’t. He paused, his mind spinning. Aziraphale had no idea that the Metatron had played a hand in Gabriel’s demotion. Would he believe it if Crowley told him? Would it make a difference? Should he try? No, he decided, it probably wouldn’t make a difference. Aziraphale had seemed determined to throw him away and ascend to heaven. But he still couldn’t make himself leave. He shut the door of the car and turned to watch, feeling like he was tearing his own heart out by doing so. But he couldn’t leave while Aziraphale was still on earth. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.
His heart was still wailing in agony, and he feared he may discorporate from the pain. He had laid himself bare in front of Aziraphale, he’d asked him to run away together - for the second time - and Aziraphale had rejected him. Also for the second time. He had been stupid to try, but he’d been so full of hope. He wondered as he stood there whether he’d said enough, whether he’d said the right thing… but obviously he hadn’t. Aziraphale was leaving. Forever. He was going to heaven to run the show and leaving Crowley behind. Part of him wished he could discorporate, that he could just… cease to be. He felt like he was being destroyed, he might as well be destroyed.
The door to the shop opened and Aziraphale walked out with the Metatron, and Crowley’s broken heart sped up. He saw the second Aziraphale spotted him, but Aziraphale averted his eyes quickly and walked towards the lift. Crowley continued to stare at him, to try to communicate telepathically with Aziraphale, to convince him to stay, to choose him. But with every step Aziraphale took towards the lift, his heart broke into smaller and smaller pieces. He didn’t think he could stand it, but he had to. There was no way he was going to leave while Aziraphale was still on Earth. This might be the last time he ever saw him - he was not leaving. Not until Aziraphale was really and truly gone.
Aziraphale turned back to look at him, and Crowley locked eyes with him. “Please, angel. Please, please,” he begged under his breath.
Aziraphale looked broken, tortured, and Crowley thought for one wild moment that it might be working, then Aziraphale turned with the Metatron and continued to walk towards the lift.
Crowley watched him, refusing to even blink, even though his eyes were burning with unshed tears. ”Please, angel. Please.”
Aziraphale turned back again, giving him one last last look, and Crowley was so very sure he was going to die. He wanted to. But not until he got the last glimpse he ever would have of the love of his eternal life. This was the most perfect punishment anyone ever could have given him; Falling was a cakewalk compared to this. He would have Fallen a thousand times to be spared this.
The two angels got on the lift and turned around, and Crowley stared at them while the Metatron leaned over to press the button. The doors started to close - and there went Crowley’s hope. He closed his eyes, feeling the tears that had been wobbling spill, and he turned his head towards the car. It was over. Aziraphale was leaving him, leaving forever, Aziraphale had chosen heaven -
“Wait!” he heard, and his head snapped up. He saw Aziraphale’s arm sticking through the lift doors, and then he pushed them to the side. As soon as Crowley saw his face, he knew something had changed, and his broken heart felt a throb of hope. His whole posture changed as he watched Aziraphale walk across the street with quick steps, his eyes locked on Crowley. There was a small smile on his face, and he was ignoring the Metatron calling for him.
“Angel?” Crowley said in a voice that was choked with hope and disbelief.
Aziraphale’s steps sped up and his smile grew, until he was running and beaming at Crowley, and Crowley barely had the span of a heartbeat for a smile to start across his face before Aziraphale slammed into him, full force, knocking him back against the Bentley. It might have knocked the breath out of him, but he didn’t know and couldn’t care because Aziraphale also had both hands on his face and was kissing him with something like desperation. Crowley only hesitated for a half a second before he threw his arms around Aziraphale and kissed him back with all the love and joy he felt.
They were kissing, properly kissing, and the heart in Crowley’s chest that had been broken into a million pieces thirty seconds ago was now singing for joy, praising something or someone, and he was once again certain he was going to die - but this time from elation.
“Get away from him,” Crowley heard, breaking through his thoughts, and he had the split second thought to ignore it, then he felt he and Aziraphale pulled apart by some force bigger than him. He looked at Aziraphale quickly to make sure he was still there and not hurt, then turned to see the Metatron drawing closer, looking thunderous. “Whatever you’ve done to him, I command you to stop.”
“Whatever I’m doing to him? I’m not the one manipulating him, you bastard!” Crowley shouted.
“You must have bewitched him somehow, because there is no reason that anyone would choose Earth over heaven,” the Metatron snarled.
“I’m not doing anything. Piss off,” Crowley said, and then he was soothed to feel Aziraphale’s hand slip into his. He curled his fingers around it.
“I will destroy you. I will erase you from the Book of Life,” the Metatron warned.
“I would rather you do that than take him away from me. Especially against his will. Unlike you lot, I’m all about people making their own choices.”
“Aziraphale is an angel! Not a person!”
“I told you once before. Piss off. He’s staying with me.”
The Metatron turned to Aziraphale. “He’s deceiving you. Whatever he’s doing, it’s some kind of trick. He is tempting you. Leave him. Come with me.”
Aziraphale drew himself up to his full height and his hand tightened around Crowley’s. “Over the last six thousand years that we’ve been on Earth together, Crowley has vexed me, he’s annoyed me, he’s badgered me. And yes, he’s tempted me. But he has never mistreated me, and he’s never manipulated me into doing something I didn’t want. Heaven has done all of that, and it’s clear that he values me more than heaven ever will.”
The Metatron’s face was purpling with anger. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“I do very well,” Aziraphale said simply, and much more calmly than Crowley felt. “I only agreed to go with you on the contingency that I got to bring Crowley. That’s not what he wants. He’s not going, so I’m not going.”
“Yeah, so piss off,” Crowley said for the third time, unable to help his smile.
“You’ll regret this,” the Metatron said, his voice dire. “I’ll make absolutely certain that you regret this.”
“Nothing happens that God doesn’t want. This was part of her Ineffable Plan, and you know it. If you do anything to me, it will be against Her will.”
“Yeah, so you can shit and fall back in it,” Crowley said gleefully, his hand still in Aziraphale’s.
The Metatron glared at them for a moment longer, then spat, “Fine. Have it your way.” He turned and marched back towards the lift.
Crowley stood there, holding hands with Aziraphale, and watched him go, until the Metatron got to the lifts and went inside. He gave the two of them one more fulminating, angry stare, and then the doors to the lift closed and he vanished from view. Just a second later, the lift shimmered out of existence and he was gone.
They stood there for a minute, hands joined, and both of them stared at the place the lift had been. But they were together, Crowley thought. Aziraphale had chosen him, and he thought he would burst from all the joy he felt. He turned to look at Aziraphale, to take in his face, this angel he’d thought he’d never see again, and he felt tears prick his eyes again as he looked at his sweet face.
Aziraphale turned to look at him, still holding his hand, and Crowley couldn’t help but smile. He just felt so light, so happy, and his heart soared above the clouds when Aziraphale smiled back at him.
“Thank you,” Crowley said softly.
“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said, equally softly.
Crowley wanted to tell him he was forgiven, even though it wasn’t a demon’s place to forgive, but when had Crowley ever followed the rules? Still, they needed to talk and he knew it.
Tenderly, carefully, with his abused heart in his throat, he said, “I think we need to go back inside and have a conversation.”
“I think you’re right. There’s very much to talk about,” Aziraphale said. “But Crowley?”
“Yeah, angel?”
“Don’t let go until you have to.”
Crowley reached up with his spare hand and touched Aziraphale’s cheek with his fingertips, marveling that he could touch him, then pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his lips. Aziraphale’s lips were so soft, so delightful, and Crowley thought he’d never known any greater pleasure in his life than kissing Aziraphale.
“I won’t. I promise. Let’s go,” he said, and they started walking back towards the bookshop with their hands held between them.