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A melodic chime overhead, gently signified the arrival of Aziraphale back into his Bookshop, causing Crowley to pause his anxious pacing briefly. Silently, the Demon watched the two women he’d been conversing with leave, but not before they politely excused themselves past the owner of the property. The once hereditary enemies now stood across from each other, with only the sound of Crowley’s heavy ongoing foot fall to break up the prickling silence that had settled between them.
Eventually, Crowley turned to face Aziraphale, then with one practised and fluid swoop he shed his sunglasses from his eyes; only to begin fumbling over his less rehearsed lines.
“Look, I suppose, um… I’ve got something to say-” Crowley’s fists clenched and unclenched nervously beside him. It felt almost impossible to find even a single word to describe the rush that swept over him every time he looked at the Angel, as if nothing he could possibly say would be good enough to depict this fact.
After all, he'd failed to start this conversation for decades. Constantly searching for a way to finally be open about the way he felt, yet even now he found it no easier; despite the encouragement Nina and Maggie so kindly offered. As Crowley began stumbling over more words, missing the main point by about a mile, Aziraphale began to smile sheepishly and held his arms up in protest.
“What’s that lovely Human expression?” Aziraphale flapped, carelessly interrupting Crowley’s spiralling trail of incoherent words, without even a second of consideration. “Oh, yes! Hold that thought!” the Angel chuckled, pointing back at the Demon dramatically with a flourish. Only to continue rambling off about the conversation he and the Metatron had just exchanged, but Crowley wasn’t listening. He just stood stock still, like someone had just smacked him across the face. Sure he heard the gist of it; something about Michael, Archangels, Heaven, restoration of full angelic status, wait…
“He said what?” Crowley couldn’t help the pinch to his words as he glared back at Aziraphale, who simply continued beaming at him. There was a child-like glee to the Angels demeanour, something the Demon had come to admire, but this version was not the same. Something felt considerably off.
“He said I could appoint you, to be an Angel” Aziraphale’s smile crinkled at the corner of his eyes as if every curse and problem they’d ever faced had just been lifted. But Crowley couldn’t share this sentiment, instead the Demon’s jaw clenched, his teeth gritting together in disgust at the mere suggestion of returning to Heaven.
Yet, Aziraphale took no notice, and only continued “You could come back to Heaven and… and everything.” he sighed in reflection “Like the old times. Only even nicer !” a giggle escaped between the Angels lips. All the time he was speaking, Aziraphale's eyes had never once left Crowley’s, and yet it was hard to believe that the Angel was even seeing his friend at that moment.
The Demon stayed immobile for a minute, thinking about what he’d just been offered by the one individual he thought knew him best. Only now that idea felt more and more like a lie with every passing erratic heartbeat.
“Right…” Crowley breathed unsure if he had intended for the word to be heard or not. “And you told him just where he could stick it, then?” his voice now more on the aggravated side, as he watched his friends smile falter slightly, before it almost seemed to tighten across his face, with a practised patience.
“Not at all.” came the bewildered reply. Crowley shook his head, almost disappointed with Aziraphale. It was then that a dull ache somewhere deep within Crowley began to hum.
“Oh, we’re better than that, you’re better than that , Angel ! You don’t need them. I certainly don’t need them!” Crowley’s voice erupted from him, as he paced towards his confused Angel, like a hungry beast, only to abruptly change his direction at the last second. “Look, they asked me back to Hell, I said no .” Crowley once again spun around to face Aziraphale, his voice jumping an octave higher “I’m not gonna be joining their team. Neither should you.” his breath ragged as he stared down at the Bookshop owner.
“Well, obviously you said no to Hell, you’re the bad guys.” Aziraphale nervously chucked, but that smile still remained nevertheless stitched across his face. Crowley’s eyes flicked across his friend's expression as the reality of his words came crashing down all around him. No, of course… Of course, despite everything they’d been through he was still the bad guy, not Gabriel, nor Michael, not even Beelzebub. Him . Hell.
“When Heaven ends life here on Earth, it’ll be just as dead as if Hell had ended it.” and as Crowley spat the words from his mouth the smile from Aziraphale’s lips finally faded. "Tell me you said no." But Aziraphale said nothing, only opening and closing his mouth silently stunned. " Tell me you said no ." Crowley began edging towards the Angel, his words losing their heat. Searching desperately for something in the Angel’s eyes that would deny what was clearly happening. Aziraphale shook his head slowly, and something in Crowley began to splinter and crack. His heart almost slowed to a complete stop. That dull ache now seared and burned, like nothing else he’d ever felt.
"If I'm in charge, I can make a difference." The Angel began, but the Demon had, had enough, turning sharply away with a defeated sigh. It felt like Crowley was witnessing his fall from grace all over again, except this time the destination was unknown. Only that he knew he was losing Aziraphale.
"Oh God. Right, okay-" he mumbled to himself, searching deep inside for that courage he failed to muster earlier. "Right. I didn't get a chance to say what I was gonna say," Crowley began, as the words started to run away from him, with no ability to slow down, even after he'd stopped to look straight back at Aziraphale again. If anything that made it worse. "I think I better start now- Right, okay, yes, so…" The nerves had already appeared to be creeping back in, only this time there seemed to be a much heavier weight attached to them.
"We've known each other a long time," Crowley began with a sigh as he briefly let his gaze slip down to the floor. After all, who was he trying to kid, he was never going to be good at this, "We've been on this planet a long time, I mean, you and me. I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me. We're a team, a group. Group of the two of us." Crowley paused, catching what he just said. A group? Nevermind, it didn't matter, he had to press onwards.
"And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't. I mean, the last few years, not really… And I would like to spend-" Crowley growled in frustration as the exact words left him for a moment. It was becoming difficult to hold eye contact as Aziraphale only watched back with a vaguely uninterested expression. Another crack formed deep within as Crowley tried to keep himself together, but it wasn’t working. He was slipping further into the darkness.
"I mean if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, go off together, then we can. Just the two of us . We don't need Heaven. We don't need Hell, they're toxic . We need to get away from them, just be an us . You and me, what do you say ?" but Aziraphale had already started shaking his head before Crowley had finished. So that was that, he wouldn’t even be heard.
The cracks began to deepen within Crowley like a series of caverns. Twisting together to form a labyrinth that only served to remind him of his loathsome fate. He could no longer hear Aziraphale’s pleas to join him in Heaven. Why would he want to anyway? After all, they'd been the ones to let him plummet into the very depths of Hell. It was his spiteful determination alone that had helped him claw his way back out into the light. That in itself had been bad enough, surely his Angel wouldn’t ask him to relive it all again? Not after everything they’ve been through. They’d even stopped Armageddon together, for Heaven’s sake. So why did this suddenly feel so much harder?
"You can't leave this Bookshop." Crowley’s voice was hardly a whisper, and all Aziraphale could seem to do was sigh his name, with a half-hearted smile of pity for the Demon.
"Nothing lasts forever." The Angel breathed, now only inches from Crowley’s face as he looked deep into those poignant snake eyes. Crowley’s head slowly bobbed once with a final broken confirmation. A single sentence that sealed the very fate the Demon had been fruitlessly fighting to avoid.
"No. No, I don't suppose it does ." He returned with a final sigh, as he slowly placed his glasses back onto his nose. If Aziraphale wasn't willing to see what stood before him, then neither was he. Not anymore.
"Good luck." The Demon offered, as he shrugged past Aziraphale towards the door.
"Good luck?" The Angel murmured, baffled by the sentiment. "C-Crowley! Crowley, come back !" Aziraphale shouted, watching as the Demon slowed, pausing to glance over his shoulder. "Come back to Heaven. Work with me. We can be together ! Angels doing good." Aziraphale bargained, in one last plea to get Crowley to fold. After all, isn’t that what he’d wanted, for them to be together? Yet Crowley only stared off into the distance, as if taking in the Bookshop one last time.
" I… I need you !" Aziraphale cried, voice shaking, as his arms reached out slightly, beckoning for Crowley. It was at that moment something inside the Angel seemed to break in half. A conflict bubbling under the surface, like it had always done before. And then it was gone, almost as if someone had snapped their fingers, it completely disappeared. An ounce of fake composure settled back over the Angels features, straightening his waistcoat subconsciously.
"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." There was a slight harshness now in his tone, as if this were no longer a choice to be made.
"I understand" Crowley finally breathed, tilting his head to look at Aziraphale sympathetically. "I think I understand a whole lot better than you do." Aziraphale only nodded, biting his lip slightly. Perhaps, this was indeed where they'd finally draw the line, after over 6000 years together.
"Well…" Aziraphale smirked, "Then there's nothing more to say." Except when the Angel smiled this time, it didn't quite manage to reach his eyes with that same spark. A clearly repeated self told lie.
"You idiot!" Crowley practically roared "We could have been…" he paused, his whole body seemed to soften as he sighed his final word, "... us ." Aziraphale turned away sharply, now unable to look at Crowley and the heartbreak he seemed to be harbouring.
A slight growl rumbled from the Demons throat as he strode over to his Angel. Grabbing his friend by his pristine white collar, and forcing the Angel to finally turn back, before crashing Aziraphale’s lips to his own, in one last desperate ploy of persuasion. Despite the scorching flames buried within Crowley, fireworks practically exploded from his chest. This was all he ever wanted. What he thought they both wanted.
Shaking fingers grazed Crowley’s shoulder blade briefly, as he clung onto Aziraphale's collar even tighter, as if his very life depended on it. Yet, as Crowley ever so slightly deepened his already bruising kiss, Aziraphale’s trembling hands finally came to gently rest on the Demon's back. The taste of coffee played on Crowley’s lips, but then hidden beneath the initial bitter front there was a hint of something else.
Almost as suddenly as he'd started, Crowley let go of Aziraphale, watching as he stumbled back slightly with a sharp intake of breath. An expression of horror and shock together now plastered across his face, but for a brief moment there seemed to be a shine in Aziraphale’s eye, a shine that hadn’t previously been there.
Taking this brief opportunity, Crowley swiped his tongue across his lips and instantly there it was again. The familiar taste of coffee that Crowley had always craved; even if it was a much weaker version. And then something else, something much more distinct and foreboding. Something dangerously unfamiliar. Of course Aziraphale wouldn't be able to taste it, but for Crowley having the senses of a snake was sometimes a blessing in disguise.
Aziraphale in this moment brought a shaking hand to his quivering lips, as he stared at Crowley in disbelief, sceptically watching as the Demon seemed to zone out completely in thought for a mere second. Tears began prickling up in the Angels eyes as he desperately tried to ground himself again. But how impossible it seemed, when a persistent tingling sensation danced across his lips, and to his surprise it wasn't a completely unwelcome feeling.
"Angel?" Crowley all but whispered, causing Aziraphale to finally look back up at the Demon still leaning over him. "How much of that coffee did you drink?" Aziraphale practically choked out a laugh, unintentionally too harsh, which caused Crowley to flinch ever so slightly.
"W-What kind of cruel game are you playing?" The Angel all but stammered, one hand still held to his mouth and the other clutching his chest protectively "You not only k-kiss me, Crowley, but then interrogate me after and for what? You will not continue to tempt me with your s-serpent ways anymore." Aziraphale took a retreating step back as Crowley felt a sharp pain of betrayal drive itself through his gut.
"Angel, please, just listen to me." Crowley was practically begging now, taking a careful step forward, holding his hands up in an acknowledgement of surrender "I think the Coffee you drank had something in it, something that has messed with your head." Crowley took another step, but Aziraphale wasn't having it as he also made another move backwards, his hand pulling away from his lips entirely.
"Now, don't be silly, Crowley.” The Angel scolded lightly, “The Metatron was kind enough to offer us both what we've been dreaming of." Aziraphale's back finally collided with the pillar behind him, as he considered the Demons horrifying suggestion.
"What we've been dreaming of? For Heaven's sake listen to yourself, Angel! When have we ever dreamed of going back up there when they were the ones Hell bent on killing us?" Crowley snapped as he came toe to toe with Aziraphale once more.
"They wanted us dead, they wanted you…" The anger washed away from Crowley as quickly as it had come, the realisation almost too unbearable. "They wanted you… D-Dead ." His voice cracked with an unexpected grief "Please. Please don't let them take you away from me, Angel. Not again . I can’t lose you again-" Crowley shook his head vigorously as his hands came to rest on Aziraphale’s shoulders in a gentle but firm hold. " You're the only thing I've got left ."
Aziraphale, still rattled by this uncharacteristic change in Crowley, now studied the Demons face more closely. All the pride that Crowley usually flaunted had suddenly disappeared altogether. His head was dipped low in defeat and the rise and fall of his chest had somewhat quickened. And even though Aziraphale had initially been frightened of Crowley’s grasp, it was only now he could feel how tender and desperate those hands really were.
"Come with me, and all will be forgiven. You will be forgiven." The Angel offered a half-hearted smile of reassurance as the Demon expelled all the air left in his lungs out through his nose in his deepest sigh yet.
"Don't bother." Crowley murmured, his grip somewhat loosening as all the fight in him completely and instantaneously vanished. All that remained was a broken creature, once more unloved and very much alone in the world. He then huffed a humourless breath and let his fingers slide down from Aziraphale’s shoulders slightly.
"I thought, maybe after 6000 years together, I'd be enough for you. That, despite everything we'd been through, at the end of it all, I would simply be just enough . Oh, but how wrong I was." Crowley sunk to the floor, his hands aimlessly draped across his knees.
This is how it was supposed to be. How it was always meant to be. A Demon, below an Angel.
While Aziraphale did now indeed loom above the Demon, crumpled on the floor, he didn’t feel that surge of power of imbalance, instead he was concerned. It didn't feel right. None of this did anymore.
"Crowley, stand up. This is ridiculous, just get up. I-I'm sure we can figure something out." The Angel tried, on the verge of begging, offering a hand down to his friend, but Crowley didn't even lift his head.
"What's the point?" He sighed, "Heaven has taken everything I've ever loved away from me. And this time, they've stolen something far more valuable, they've robbed me of my best friend. My sweet, loving, Angel . The only Angel I ever trusted, and now he’s leaving me." A silent sob emanated out from within Crowley, as those cracked and shattered parts exploded into fractured pieces. Not too dissimilar to the meteors they’d helped to create a lifetime ago.
"I-I don't know what to say." It was now Aziraphale's voice that began to wobble, those same tears threatening to break free again. Crowley looked up for the briefest of moments, reaching up to grasp Aziraphale’s hands in his. Raising onto his knees and resting his forehead onto their conjoined hands, as if for the first time in centuries, the Demon was praying.
"Say you'll stay. Say you'll stay here with me. That I can finally be enough for you and you alone. Please . I still need you here, Angel." Crowley’s voice was equally both parts soft and broken, with his final whispered prayer to the only true Angel Heaven had left.
Aziraphale looked down at Crowley as something began to swell in his chest, and a heavy cloud began to disperse from his mind. He exhaled deeply as if he'd been unable to in what felt like an age.
"Crowley?" Aziraphale whispered, removing a hand to gently touch the Demons fiery hair. Tangling his fingers slightly to pet soothing strokes across his friend's scalp.
"Please, Angel. I can't do this on my own anymore. I n-need you. I'll always need you ." Crowley’s body trembled as his words came out in an Earth shattering wail. Aziraphale tightened his grip on Crowley’s hand, kneeling down in front of the Demon. His other hand came to softly rest along Crowley’s cheek, using his thumb to affectionately brush his dampened skin.
"Oh, my Dear Crowley, please take off your sunglasses." Aziraphale whispered but when the Demon made no effort to move, the Angel carefully raised his hands towards the glasses himself. With tender fingers Aziraphale slowly and attentively removed the shades from Crowley’s face, only to reveal those beautiful snake eyes drowning in a sea of shaky waters. Using his thumbs once more Aziraphale lightly swiped away the cascading tears.
"There. Now I can see you again." The Angel offered a sad smile to his Demon, a real smile. A smile that made his eyes gleam. "Oh Crowley, it's going to be alright. I'm here now, my Dear. I'm right here and I’m not going anywhere." He promised, squeezing the Demon's hand reassuringly again. “And for all it’s worth, you are more than enough for me. Perhaps even more than I truly deserve.”
Crowley couldn't take his eyes off Aziraphale until that wave of pure relief engulfed him whole. His body shook as each sob wracked through him over and over again. A pair of arms encompassed him securely as he heard a body shuffle closer. His Angel was here. He was here and holding him together. Crowley snaked his arms around Aziraphale, grasping him as tightly as possible, and tucking his head into the crook of the Angel’s neck.
Nothing but the sharp, woody and unearthly clean smell of Aziraphale flooded Crowley’s senses. Despite what some may have believed it didn’t overpower the Demon’s reptilian pallet, in fact it only brought him comfort. If anything Crowley couldn't get enough of the velvety scent, as he curled up into Aziraphale’s neck even more, and buried his pointed nose impossibly deeper. If the Angel let him, he’d stay here forever, locked in time. Nothing but them, and all their dusty books.
"You owe me an apology dance." Crowley at last mumbled into Aziraphale, releasing a pent up breath as his body attempted to relax. A low throaty chuckle came from above the Demon, as a hand rubbed his back reassuringly; the vibrations transmitting through Crowley lightly.
"I know. I’m so, very sorry, Crowley.” the Angel breathed. “But how about I offer you something just a little better? Aziraphale’s smile clearly reflected in his tone. Crowley lifted his head ever so slightly to look back at the Angel with a furrowed brow. Snake eyes practically illuminated in their golden capsules.
Aziraphale didn't speak another word, instead he brought a steady hand to rest under Crowley’s chin and leaned forward. Closing the already small gap into nothing as the Angels lips lovingly connected to the Demons.
And as if nothing had ever happened, every bit of fire that had been burning up inside Crowley was swiftly extinguished, and all that remained was a pair of fluttering wings. The taste of bitter coffee was replaced with something so much sweeter that it almost reminded him of Eden itself.
Aziraphale’s other hand came up to rest on Crowley’s neck, softly tangling with the hair available at the base of his nape, causing their kiss to deepen ever so slightly. Only this time there was nothing but quiet understanding and unrelenting love between them.
Thankfully this kiss was not bruising like the first, but instead tender and soft. For Crowley it was the promise of finally being accepted just the way he was and that he in fact could be enough for his Angel. And for Aziraphale, well, it's simply all he'd ever wanted, all he'd ever truly dreamed of. Everything an Angel could ever dare to desire. A sinful miracle.
As the two broke away, staring deep into each other's souls, Aziraphale couldn't help but think that perhaps Gabriel had been right for once? That wherever his Demon was, was in fact where Heaven lay too.