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As evening fell, Crowley rose from the armchair in which he'd been slumped and walked over to Aziraphale's desk, where he turned on the lamp while Aziraphale studied one of his precious books.
The angel didn't look up, just said, "Thank you, my dear."
Crowley looked at him for a few moments with a look of amusement that turned to one of fondness before he put his hand on the angel's shoulder and asked, "Glass of scotch, angel?"
Aziraphale finally raised his head and, resting his hand on Crowley's, replied gently, "If you give me five minutes, I may be able to share it with you. "
Then he turned his attention back to his book and Crowley walked over to the liquor cabinet. He took out the bottle of scotch and poured two glasses before sitting down to wait for the angel to finish.
From where he sat, the demon could see him from behind, in a familiar position, and for a moment he was overcome with a wave of strong emotion.
He'd almost lost all this.
"Come with me... to Heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference."
I don't want to.
I just want to stay here.
You and me.
But the angel wasn't listening to him anymore.
He knew it.
He could see it.
He'd lost him.
Because what he was wasn't enough for his angel.
"Crowley?"
Aziraphale's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and, without thinking, he asked, "Am I not enough, angel?"
Aziraphale, looking concerned, sat across from Crowley and asked softly, "What are you talking about, dear?"
Crowley, still raw from the memories he had just relived, grabbed Aziraphale's hand and asked in a slightly hoarse voice, "Am I not enough as I am? Did you really want me to become an angel again? You seemed so happy with the idea of me being an angel again. Am I not good enough for you as I am?"
"I've been waiting for this since, um... "
The red-haired angel looked around before continuing, "Well, always."
Aziraphale tried to introduce himself, but the other angel barely paid him any attention before exclaiming, "Okay, here goes."
He raised his hand, levitated the book toward him, and continued, "Let there be matter, let there be gravity, let there be everything from page 11 to 3,000,602 inclusive."
Nothing happened, and Aziraphale ventured a question, "Is something meant to happen?"
The red-haired angel took no offense and replied, "Oh, right, sorry, yes, yes. I knew I'd missed one."
Aziraphale laughed lightly, and the other angel raised his hand before saying softly, "Let there be light."
And there, in front of Aziraphale's astonished eyes, was an explosion of light and color, and he didn't know where to look until the other angel's joyful cheering caught his attention. Then, Aziraphale was more fascinated by the sheer joy he radiated as he spoke of his creation than by the creation itself.
Aziraphale clasped Crowley's hand between his two hands and replied in a voice broken with emotion, "I wanted to see you smile. I just wanted to see you smile like you did that day. You looked so happy, and when Metatron dangled the possibility of giving you that joy again, all I could think about was that. I wanted to see you smile like that again. I swear, Crowley, I never thought you weren't enough. Never." He continued in a lower, almost inaudible voice, "Besides, if anyone isn't enough, it's me."
Crowley dropped his head onto their entwined hands and Aziraphale felt a wetness on his skin. He withdrew one of his hands and placed it on the red hair, gently stroking Crowley's head, "I'm so, so sorry I ever let you think you weren't good enough. It was never about that. I wanted..." Aziraphale swallowed a few times before replying, "I just... wanted to make you happy."
He closed his eyes to hold back the tears because it wasn't about him, it was about Crowley.
Crowley who had suffered at his hands.
He was the one who needed comforting.
With his eyes still closed, concentrating on not letting his emotions overwhelm him, he didn't notice that Crowley had raised his head. So he flinched slightly when the demon cupped his face between his hands making him open his eyes.
Crowley's eyes were still wet from the tears he had just shed, and in a trembling voice he said softly, "Oh, Angel, I don't need stars or nebulae to be happy. Do you know what happiness is to me? It's every moment I get to spend with you. I may be grumpy and reluctant, but I cherish every moment I spend with you. Whether it's watching you eat without restraint, sharing a drink, getting drunk and talking nonsense, witnessing your passion for magic when you have no talent for it..."
Aziraphale let out a sobbing laugh from the tears he finally couldn't hold back as Crowley continued, "'Cause angel, we know you have no talent for it. My happiness is to see you rejoice in the little things in life, to cherish those little things, my happiness is to see you smile without holding back because you think it's wrong. That and so much more. My happiness is you. Just you. No need for stars, heavens, or anything else. Just you."
As Crowley wiped the tears from the angel's eyes with his thumbs, Aziraphale managed to say, "And my happiness is you, it's just you being happy."
Crowley shook his head and chuckled, "We're such fools. We wanted each other's happiness so badly that we didn't ask ourselves what would make the other person happy. Nina and Maggie were right, we really need to learn how to talk to each other, angel."
Aziraphale whispered, "I'm still sorry I hurt you so much that day.
Crowley ran his thumb over the angel's lips and said gently, "I'm not going to lie to you. It hurt. It still hurts when I think about it. But I've forgiven you. And I'm sure things will get a little better every day."
He pressed his forehead against the angel's and continued, "And don't think I didn't hear you when you said you thought you weren't enough for me. There's no such thing. We're perfect for each other, don't you think? A group of two. You and me. Us. What do you say?"
Aziraphale, realizing that he was repeating the words of that day, nodded and managed to murmur through tears, "Yes, yes..."
Crowley murmured almost inaudibly, "May I kiss you, angel?"
Aziraphale responded by closing the distance and gently pressing his lips to the demon's. Crowley slid his hands behind Aziraphale's neck as their lips pressed together in a kiss that tasted of the salt of their tears. It was long and deep, incredibly sweet because they were both raw from the emotions that had run through them, from baring their hearts once again.
When they pulled away to catch their breath, they remained forehead to forehead for a few moments, neither wanting to part. Then Crowley laid his head on Aziraphale's shoulder and, wrapping his arms around his waist, hesitantly whispered, "Angel, can I stay with you tonight?"
Aziraphale, burying his fingers in the demon's hair, replied softly, almost shyly, "Yes, please. Stay."
He felt Crowley sigh in relief and held him a little tighter.
Burying his face in the crook of Aziraphale's neck, Crowley breathed against him, "You're the one who makes me happy. Don't leave me."
Aziraphale pressed a lingering kiss to Crowley's temple and said in a soft but sure voice, "I swear to you, Crowley, I'll never leave you."
After a few moments, he felt Crowley relax against him, and Aziraphale, humbled by the demon's vulnerability, promised himself to grow stronger. To become the person he could truly depend on. To become the one Crowley deserved.
He wrapped his arms around the demon's shoulders and whispered into his hair one last time,"Never again."