Chapter Text
Aziraphale was exhausted from the sheer amount of trying without success. He might be of higher authority now, and have the ability to present his opinions more freely, but that didn’t mean he was listened to. And oh, he had so many ideas, so many wonderful projects to make Earth a better place, to give humans every opportunity to be their best selves, all according to God’s Plan (or at least the one he understood). But the thing about Heaven is that they don’t care much about initiative. The important thing is to obey, even at a higher pay grade.
So, the plans for the Second Coming were at full speed, and Aziraphale hadn’t been able to get a word in edgeways to stop it, to change it, to do anything but inadvertently offer information to make it more efficient, somehow. He was being used, but worse than that, he wasn’t even being seen. He was, again, nothing but a tool to Heaven. Sure, to be a tool for the execution of God’s will should be the utmost honor to any angel. So, of course, Aziraphale was proud of that. He was. Most of the time. Okay, some of the time, but he was. Even if he was terribly close to start asking questions.
Still, he couldn’t admit he had been wrong. He knew from the beginning it wouldn’t be easy, but to be an archangel was to have legions of angels willing to hear what you had to say, to have an unparalleled opportunity to change the system from the inside. How could he not have at the very least tried? How could Crowley not have seen that they would never have an opportunity like this again? That this was their chance to make Heaven understand how precious Earth was. How it was worth saving.
But it had been Aziraphale’s chance alone, at the end. And he was failing. If he hadn’t been alone, perhaps it could have been different, but at the moment he was failing everything. And, well, it was awfully lonely.
--
Aziraphale was absolutely not spying on Crowley. He was simply checking to see if the demon was all right, is all. He knew how sensitive the dear boy could be, and it had been awful the way they parted, hadn’t it? The angel was aware that it had been partially his fault, but he was doing everything in his power not to think about what could have been if he had said yes. He’d much rather think about how Crowley could have been helping him right now if only he hadn’t been so… pessimistic.
Aziraphale had checked on his demon a couple of times since it all went down (or a couple of dozen, but who is counting?), but always at a distance. This time, however, he couldn’t keep the longing at bay and found himself discreetly crouched behind a shrub on the other side of the road where Crowley had parked his Bentley. Not hiding, no, just… out of view.
Crowley seemed to be fumbling with his phone without much purpose. As with all the other times Aziraphale checked, he seemed to be perfectly fine, if a bit lonely. The angel hadn’t seen him talk with many people since he’d left. But Crowley wouldn’t, he supposed. No, he would retreat to his Bentley (since he didn’t have his flat anymore) and sulk on his own for the rest of eternity. Which was why Aziraphale had to keep checking. It was the right thing to do (and it had nothing to do with how much he missed him, not at all).
After about ten minutes, the demon put his phone away and gave out a sigh, as if coming to terms with something. Aziraphale perked up as Crowley stood up from his car, closed the door, and sauntered on. The angel watched him walk to the end of the street and turn left, away from where Aziraphale was hiding. What could be in that direction? Where was Crowley going, so business-like? Up to no good, he supposed. It would be just fair for an angel such as himself to check, wouldn’t it?
“What are you doing?”
Aziraphale stood up at once without looking at the source of the voice on his right. He knew it well, better than his own, and would much prefer not to give the demon the satisfaction of seeing him blush.
“Oh… well… Crowley!” Aziraphale fumbled, forcing a smile onto his face and turning, at last, to see a very skeptical demon looking back at him with one eyebrow up. “What a surprise!”
“Right…”
“I was just in the neighborhood, checking up on, hum, on…”
“A miracle?” Crowley suggested.
“Yes! A miracle. Very important one, had to see it for myself,” Aziraphale laughed awkwardly.
Crowley nodded, though he clearly didn’t believe a word out of Aziraphale’s mouth. “Get in the car,” he snarled and walked away.
Aziraphale followed. “Where are we going?”
“Just get in the car.” Crowley crossed the street, sounding tired.
“I don’t know if I should,” said Aziraphale, already by the passenger-side door.
Crowley looked at him over the roof of the Bentley. “Then don’t,” he said, getting in.
Aziraphale got in.
--
The Bentley was not a very big place, and it was oh so difficult to be so near Crowley and not think about having him even closer. The demon was speeding through London as usual, which distracted Aziraphale just enough to realize that Crowley was unusually quiet.
“You’ve got to understand…” Aziraphale began after a moment of unbearable silence.
“I understand,” Crowley interrupted. “I understand perfectly. Do you understand?”
Aziraphale meant to say, “I was just overseeing the execution of a miracle on this part of town that is of the utmost importance to keep the balance and wellbeing of Earth, as is my current responsibility as an archangel of Heaven.”
What he said instead was, “They won’t listen to me!” all but whiny.
“I’m shocked,” deadpanned Crowley.
“I’ve tried everything. They keep distorting my words and changing my orders. It’s like I’m still a Principality.”
“Again, flabbergasted,” said Crowley without changing his tone. “Now get out.”
Aziraphale turned his head to notice they were parked in front of the bookshop. He sighed in relief. For a moment he thought Crowley might dump him somewhere far away, like he’d wanted to do with Gabriel. It was only when he was about to step out of the car that he realized Crowley wasn’t going to follow. “You’re not coming?”
“No,” said Crowley without looking at him. “But do check in with Muriel once in a while, the poor thing doesn’t know anything.”
“Are they selling my books?” the angel asked, alarmed.
“No, they know that much at least.”
“Oh, good,” said Aziraphale, relieved. He sat back and closed the door.
Crowley turned to face him. Aziraphale wished he’d take his glasses off.
“Crowley-”
“No,” said the demon. “Get out.”
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“I do, my answer is no.”
“But I-”
“I’m not helping you.”
“You don’t need to come back or anything,” conceded Aziraphale. “But we both want the same thing-”
Crowley scoffed. “We definitely don’t want the same thing.”
Aziraphale pretended not to hear. “And you were always better at understanding the rules than I.”
“Aziraphale, I’m a demon. I don’t help Heaven.”
“Ah, you see, it wouldn’t be helping Heaven. It would be helping Earth.” The angel smiled, quite proud of himself.
Crowley smirked. “So you want me, a demon from Hell, to help you go against Heaven?”
“No!” Aziraphale’s smile fell immediately. “You’d be helping Earth and I… I’d be helping Heaven. Just, they wouldn’t know it right away.”
“Right…”
“Look, we just need to go over the rules. Thoroughly. I’m sure there must be something there that can make all of this Second Coming plan make sense with what’s right.”
Crowly thought for a moment. “Or at least make it harder for them to carry it out,” he conceded.
Aziraphale opened his mouth, ready to argue, but he saw a smile creeping on the corner of Crowley’s lips, and he knew he’d won this one. He put on his best pleading face. “Can we at least go into the bookshop to talk?”
Crowley made a face, and Aziraphale’s heart fluttered with the familiarity of it.
“All right,” said the demon.