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"I forgive you."
You always do, don't you?
It rang hollow. What good was that forgiveness to him? It was just a line, it meant nothing. It was just a line Aziraphale gave him when he rejected him, as if that made it any better. It didn't.
"Don't bother."
Crowley left.
Forgiveness. He forgives Crowley. What's to forgive? He did nothing wrong. Aziraphale was the one who rejected him, all because he couldn't let go of a toxic family.
What was it? Fear? Shame? Guilt? Righteousness? All that talk of making things better. There was no making things better. The Angel would never believe him if he said Heaven was just as bad as Hell. Just as evil. At least Hell was honest about what it was. Heaven had a dark underbelly, it had a malicious streak, but they always found some fucked up way of justifying it.
Truth. Light. Goodness. These were just words to Heaven. They weren't to Aziraphale.
Crowley waited by his car. He was hoping against hope that Aziraphale would see sense, that he'd turn around and not get in that lift.
Aziraphale looked back at Crowley. For a thrilling moment, he actually thought Aziraphale would turn back and run to him like in the human stories, and choose him. Then Aziraphale turned away and left him.
The doors closed. The heavenly glow flashed, and took him away. Crowley was alone. For the first time in 6000 years.
Crowley got in his car. He twisted his hands on the leather steering wheel. It figured. Nothing new.
He'd lost track of how many years ago it was. But he remembered Job. He remembered telling the Angel he was on no one's side, neither Heaven's nor Hell's. The Angel had said that sounded lonely. Crowley had lied and said it wasn't. Later, the Angel had discovered that he wasn't on God's side; he was on Heaven's side as far as he could go. But the Angel had his limits.
Crowley should've known the Angel was still trying. He hadn't given up. And as long as he was with them, he couldn't be with Crowley. He refused to go back to the non-people who were so destructive. Who would callously let humans die. Who would've gleefully destroyed Aziraphale had Crowley not been there.
Crowley started the engine and drove off. The Angel didn't have him anymore. He was truly alone now. And when Heaven eventually turned on him, or when he finally discovered what they truly were, Crowley wouldn't be there. He'd be long gone.
Crowley put down the pedal, as he let it all go. The anger. The frustration. The heartbreak.
Crowley was leaving London. And he wasn't coming back.