Work Text:
So it really came down to this. The demon stood in the middle of a street, surrounded by flames and carnage but unable to care anymore. He knew he should feel rage or panic or sadness or any other range of negative emotions but there was only emptiness. Resignation. What was the point anyway? One measly demon had no chance of standing up against a force of Heaven. Hell, surprisingly, stayed out of this but that won't make a difference. Humans were powerless against angels, they could not defend themselves. He still tried to save them even though he knew it was fruitless.
Crowley did what he could. His powers were stretched thin, to the point of draining his life force, the tips of his wings scorched, his clothes damaged beyond recognition and his red hair matted by soot. At first it was rage and panic that drove him, his powers exploding at the damn bastards who decided to attack him first. Humans were still scrambling around, confused and hurt and unable to comprehend what just happend. The explosion the angels created tossed him, along with half the block, into the air. When he crashed to the ground only sheer will allowed him get up again. Crowley welcomed the familiar, empty feeling when he looked around his favourite street or rather what was left of it. He had no time to do more that miracle the survivors away from the fires before taking flight.
He picked a deserted street as far away from the city as he could before he was caught by pursuing forces and had to make his stand. At least it will be over soon and he will not have to watch his home turning to dust. He will die asking Her the same question he asked at the beginning of it all: What was the point of all this?
His pursuers landed just after him, their white wings at least weren't looking so perfect anymore. It seemed he did a number on them, he smirked at the thought of turning some of those pricks feathers blackened and painful. He looked at their cruel faces and couldn't imagine how his angel could ever fit in with this lot.
Crowley stopped this train of thought immediately. He will NOT think about him. He won't. He couldn't.
"What are you waiting for, hm? Scared of me?" He taunted them, wanting all of this to be over. It's not like his life recently had any meaning or was fun anyway. He was too much of a coward and still hopeful for his angel to come back to try and drown his sorrows in holy water. Didn't mean he wanted to watch the Earth burn. He'd rather burn along with it.
"Silence, demon! We'd like nothing more than to smite you but the Metatron ordered us to only capture you and wait." One of the expresionless angels snapped their fingers to miracle some shackles on him. Crowley wouldn't have it. His resignation at his demise turned into panic again. Imprisonment was so not in the cards. He had enough of pain and misery, thank you very much. Being held by Heaven and tortured? Not a fan.
Good thing Crowley was a demon with imagination and even though the chains caught his human vessel and blocked his miracles it did not bind his other form. With a hiss he turned into a snake and slithered away.
"You foul creature! Stop right there, the order of Metatron is the order from God Herself! How dare you defy it!" He had to zigzag to avoid bursts of angry energy shot at him from different angles. They didn't dare to use more explosive force directly, in case he discorporated and got away.
Crowley never cared about God's plan and he wasn't about to start now. The moment he could, he transformed back into his man-shaped form and used his last resort power - he stopped time.
There were ten angry angels surrounding him and he was already tired after protecting a whole street of humans and then flying about like an idiot. Yet somehow his miracle worked. The lesser angels were just as frozen as the leaves on nearby trees. His mind unnecessarily supplied the sad image of those trees burned to the ground.
He needed a new plan and fast. Eying their frozen faces he entertained the idea of killing them. One snap of his fingers and he was sure he could summon hellfire. It might burn last of his energy away and probably kill him but he'd take them out with him. Maybe he'd just discorporate, maybe his life force would be too drained and he'd die for real. Didn't really matter to him.
As quickly as the idea came, it went. Killing was never his thing. It would make him just as bad as them and he liked the idea of dying with his principles intact.
He panted from extortion but kept time frozen while moving as far away from them as his damaged feathers allowed him. That nasty fall seemed to have bruised his wing very badly. He wobbled when the unbearable weight of flow of time finally won against his powers. Then he was crashing down into the dirt when last of his strength disappeared.
Unfortunately, he didn't even discorporate when he hit the ground hard. Hell wouldn't be pleasant but given the alternative it might be slightly less miserable. Air was knocked out of his lungs and even though he didn't need it he still felt like he was choking.
He just laid there, panting, his mind blank of any ideas. Crowley decided to give up. He welcomed the empty non-feeling that lately became his only friend. Let Heaven do what they want to him. Let the world burn. It will anyway, so struggling was just a waste of effort.
"Crowley. Get up please." He didn't know when he closed his eyes but the voice he heard must be a dream. He avoided sleeping after the last disaster of a nightmare. The worst sort of nightmare that wasn't one until he woke up and realised it was not reality. But now he embraced this dream because why not? He wanted to hear his angel's voice again. To see him again. His anger at the idiot faded months ago so now only the longing remained. Crowley opened his eyes and was shocked to see that he was not in fact asleep, he was still laying where he fell. His eyes locked on the glowing figure he missed so much.
Aziraphale just stood there before him, wearing tailored white suit, his luminous wings spread behind him. Even more out of place than his clothes was his blank expression. Those beautiful eyes looked at him without any speck of warmth.
Be careful what you wish for, right? Crowley regreted wanting to see him. He'd rather remember his angel in that old, battered coat, smiling at him softly over the rim of his cuppa, pleased to spend his evening in his company.
"I said, get up." Crowley gasped when he felt the force of the archangel's miracle dragging him to his feet and keeping him there. The demon avoided looking at him. That was not his angel, his best friend, his everything. This was some stranger parading with his face. That cold tone of voice could never come from Aziraphale. Or could it?
The rest of the miserable lot finally caught up but seeing thier boss refrained from any action. Then, one last arrival, the Metatron himself showed up, his face definitely too smug. Crowley scowled in his direction.
"Finally, here we are at the last part of the preparation for the Second Coming. The Earth will be purged of humans first and then we will deal with demons as well. Heaven will be victorious and free to use this dimension as we see fit. Aziraphale, you know what you have to do. Do it!"
Crowley trashed against the force keeping him in place but his angel was much stronger than him, not to mention clever enough to know how to stop any of his ideas. When they were so close that he couldn't do anything but stare helplessly into that beloved face he finally felt the rage coming.
"What the hell happened to you Aziraphale?! Didn't you go up there to make a difference, to do good?! A pat on the back from the Metatron himself and suddenly you are just their death machine? Answer me you bastard!" He shouted but Aziraphale didn't even react. That made him pause his snarling, taken aback. This was wrong. He felt that from the moment he laid eyes on him but only now did he realise it. The supreme archangel before him had an impassive face, eyes devoid of any expression. His fingers were very cold when he suddenly grabbed Crowley's face. The demon used his occult senses to see beyond the vessel, to see the true form of the angel touching him. What he saw made his blood freeze.
He'd recognise his angel anywhere, his true form was always a bit too bright to look at directly but he always thought it was awesome. What he saw now was an angel whose form was very tightly bound. His core was bleeding light, deep wounds where the metaphysical chains dug into his being, cutting off parts of his soul. The center was too bright, filled with all that power he was granted when he become the leader of Heaven. His will was broken, his warmth and all the beautiful emotions were chained tightly and the darker place that made him just a bit of a disobeying bastard was mangled so badly it looked like it barely connected to the rest of him, just hanging there useless. Crowley couldn't stand it anymore and he withdrew his senses with a painful gasp.
He didn't cry when love of his life rejected him, didn't cry when he looked at him leaving, nor did he shed a tear after he got really drunk and realised he was completely alone. But now? Seeing Aziraphale in this state broke his already shattered heart even more and he felt salty tears leaking from his eyes.
"Oh angel, what have they done to you?" Aziraphale did not answer, his fingers were digging into his face painfully now and Crowley felt that cold power spreading down, though his vessel, though his serpent body and right into his soul. He shuddered. He was wrong before. He'd rather spend eternity being tortured by faceless angels than this.
Suddenly the cold turned into freezing so intense he was burning from it, the pain was worse than he had ever experienced in his life, worse than the tortures of hell, worse than the Fall, worse than having his white wings burn into black. He howled and cried but even in this mindless, desperate need of getting away he was not strong enough to break Aziraphale's hold.
Behind his closed eyelids he could see the whiteness both of them emanated. He was sure it must have blinded even the Metatron with its intensity.
He never prayed, unless you counted the insults he snarled at the sky, but this time the despair was too great. He begged and pleaded with Her: "please just help me, help us, if he kills me and realises it after it will break him, make it stop, make it stop". His thoughts were a mess, he just wanted the pain to stop. It felt as if his true form was being torn apart but even with a power of supreme archangel, what God made couldn't be so easily unmade. Not in the way She didn't design it.
He was floating, finally numb. He didn't know what happened or where he was, if he was dead or dying or already torn to pieces, all he cared about was the lack of that freezing, maddening burn.
"Crowley..." A voice echoed though him, around him. He tried to focus on it but couldn't. "Crowley, listen." He was unaware of his body, just drifting in the void. "Crowley please! I need your help!" Was that his angel? The voice was so familiar. The demon tried as hard as he could to follow it. Aziraphale needed him so he would do what he can. Something in his mind was nagging at him, telling him he definitely shouldn't but he ignored that. He couldn't remember what happened or much of anything really but he was sure he could trust that voice.
"Crowley, just do as I say, I promise I will never again ask you for anything but this is important! Whole world relies on us and this time we have to get it right or it will really be destroyed!" Why would a demon care about the world? He was a demon, wasn't he? Or was he an angel, creator of stars? No, maybe he was human, who liked alcohol and classy cars and good music? That one felt off, so he discarded this idea. Point was, did he care? He didn't know his name anymore but he knew Aziraphale's. And he knew that if the angel begged him for something then it was truly important.
"All right." He managed to answer back, not sure how as in this void his vocal cords didn't exist. Or did they and he just couldn't feel them?
"Oh my dear I was sure I lost you!" Now that he focused properly he could hear the desperation and urgency. "I know you have no reason whatsoever to trust me, I know I don't deserve it but please, let me in. Lend me your power. The chains they bound me with couldn't be broken by ethereal power but if we combine forces I am sure the result will be... Well, probably we'd explode but at least they won't get what they want... I owe you so many apologies but I'm afraid we don't have time for it now. If we survive it I will do the apology dance as many times as you want!" The speech was rushed and Crowley didn't know what the hell he was talking about. He felt himself drifting again, his focus lost.
"We are out of time! I beg you, let me in!" Aziraphale's frantic voice broke his letarg and Crowley focused again. That small (or maybe long, he couldn't tell) break let him rearrange his memories a bit. Aziraphale was out there, trying to tear apart his very core, probably to gain access to his infernal power. The attempt was killing him but the archangel kept him tethered to this plane of existence so he could try again. And again. Losing consciousness was not something demons were capable of but Crowley's mind decided he wanted to turn off so he sort of did. Floating in the void was much better than this freezing, overwhelming pain.
"All right angel, what do you need me to do?" He agreed because what else could he do? This was his Aziraphale begging him, the emotions in his voice were a straight contrast to the creature who was slowly destroying him. And even if that was a trap, even if it meant his total destruction, he couldn't risk not listening. Because if his angel was really here and there was even a slightest chance Crowley could save him, he'd do anything. He never cared about reason when it came to protecting his angel.
"Thank you! Oh Crowley, thank you so much for trusting me! Just focus on that force you feel and allow it entrance. I promise you I will take over, I won't let any harm be done to you." Crowley allowed himself to bathe in that warm feeling Aziraphale produced when he was pleased with him and then came back to reality.
The pain would have made him fall to his knees if he was allowed to move his body. He focused on the Archangel's cold power and gave up his ingrained defences.
"Fine, angel. Have at it. Want to tear me apart? Sure, have a go. You've already broken my heart, why not my powers too? Take it." He hissed though clenched teeth, barely a whisper.
If the light was blinding before, now it was so bright the sun could hide in shame.
Something broke. It broke with a loud bang that could be heard by all angels and demons and even God Herself had to turn her head towards her forgotten project when it made that terrible sound. Did she wire it up wrong or something? She wondered but decided to check it up later, when she wasn't busy.
The Metatron opened his eyes and looked around. The space looked like a bomb exploded around it, all the trees were fallen and burning, the grass disappeared, the human road was completely broken and smoking. His solders were nowhere to be seen, probably dead not just discorporated. His powers protected him from destruction but he felt how drained he was. He checked where his newest pawn has been standing.
Aziraphale was no longer emanating that cold, emotionless aura. Pity, Metatron was very proud of his work on that pathetic angel. But hopefully his control over him remained intact. Aziraphale's wings seemed to have taken the blunt of the damage, his previously pristine white feathes where grey, blackened at the tips. The demon was slumped at his feet, unmoving. Metatron smiled to himself. It must have worked, then. The second coming, the being so powerful it could set the universe anyway they wanted. And it was him, Metatron, that held the reins.
"Good job, Aziraphale! Now that you obtained the power of the star creator we can move to the next part of the plan. Come, our work has just started." He ordered the creature and spread his wings to fly off.
Aziraphale had other ideas. His eyes glowed with rightful anger.
"How... Dare... You..." He spat, so angry he couldn't even articulate properly. Finally, after months of being a puppet, after months being chained and bleeding from his very soul, he was free. Free and so very angry.
Back when he first came to Heaven, his heart heavy but mind made up, he was so sure his sacrifice would be worth it. He left everything he loved back there on Earth, he left his bookshop, beloved books and favourite food and most importantly, he left his demon down there alone. Sure, he was still angry Crowley didn't belive in him enough, that the demon couldn't see how much good they could do for Earth if they fixed Heaven but that didn't stop the longing. Yet, he convinced himself it was the right thing to do and allowed the Metatron to take him away.
When they promised him power, the position as the supreme archangel, he had to let them in. Metatron said that it was the only way to grant a mere principality such extreme power. And he agreed, like a naive idiot. The moment he let his defenses down, they bound him. He had never felt that much pain but the feeling of betrayal was worse. And hopelessness as he knew Crowley would not be here this time to save him.
It took some time to figure it out but he managed to somehow slip the bound part of himself into some sort of sleep, so that he wouldn't be aware of his broken parts anymore. He couldn't disobey any order and he couldn't feel what was right or wrong anymore. The pain was gone. The warmth too. Everything faded and there was only Heaven and his mission. Nothing else mattered. He existed to carry out the divine plan.
Breaking apart that demon didn't make him hesitate. Or so his concious mind thought. However, what was left of his love for Crowley woke up with a start when he heard his wail of pain.
Aziraphale knew he could never atone for what he did but that didn't matter right now. He was free, he was more or less himself again, their combined powers enough to explode the chain and even heal his internal wounds. What was gone probably couldn't come back but most of his ethereal body survived.
"I am not your puppet anymore. You deserve to die for what you've made me do! You lied to me! I was supposed to do some good in Heaven, have a chance to fix it! But instead you tricked me and enslaved me! You made me hurt Crowley, that is unforgivable!" Aziraphale shouted and took a step towards the surprised angel, shaking with rage.
"Angel... Stop..." Came a weak voice. Aziraphale felt the demon's hand gripping tightly to his damaged wings. He winced but stopped in his tracks. He was so blinded by his anger that he didn't even check if Crowley was alive! His shoulders slumped. If he didn't already, he would hate himself for this.
"Crowley are you alright? I'm sorry, so sorry!" He rushed toward him and knelt. His head snapped to the side when he noticed Metatron was about to flee. With an angry snarl and a snap of his fingers he froze the bastard in place and silenced his voice. He'd kill him later.
"Aziraphale, stop. It's ok. You are free. He can't hurt you again, you are much stronger than him now. No need to kill him. You'd never forgive yourself, after." Crowley managed to get out, even though his lungs were in agony. Well, he hurt all over. He let his head hit the ground again and closed his eyes. If he had the energy he'd be surprised he was still alive.
When the demon's mind drifted back into the void, the welcomed the peace.
Crowley couldn't remember the last time he was so comfortable. His pillow was warm and very soft and there were gentle fingers running through his hair. He opened his eyes and gazed up at the face he loved so much. The pillow wasn't a pillow at all, but a pair of lush thighs, covered by soft, familiar fabric. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. He wanted to stay like that for eternity.
Aziraphale had other ideas. The moment he realised his demon was awake he jumped guiltily and suddenly Crowley had a real, fluffy pillow while the angel was standing on the other side of the room, wringing his hands nervously. Not a dream then. He sighed when he remembered everything that happened.
"You are ok! I'm so glad! Oh Crowley, I was so worried about you! I was not sure if I hurt you or was it just exhaustion... No, I know I hurt you and I owe you a proper apology but it will have to wait until you are better!" The angel rambled and looked everywhere but at him.
Crowley sat up carefully. He ignored the idiot and for once focused on himself first. His true form took some damage but instead of open wounds he expected to find, he only encountered half healed scars. His power level was so low he won't be able to perform any miracles for a long time. He'd need sleep and maybe even human food, ugh. Not a fan. He focused on his wings and with a groan manifested them.
"What are you doing, you are too weak for that!" The angel rushed towards him, his arms grabbing his swaying shoulders before he could fall right on his face.
Crowley didn't answer him, just weakly pushed his hands away and Aziraphale jumped back like he was burned.
"I'm sorry!" Went ignored again in favour of checking his feathers. The burned ones fell already and left some gaps in his wings but what was more worring was the color. His wings used to be black like the dark he was cast into. Now, the feathes changed color to something lighter. Not exactly gray but definitely not black. And the tips where bloody white! He tried rubbing one feather to see if it was just dirty but the color stayed. Crowley felt a stab of panic but he was so tired the emotion just came and went. He will worry about this later. For now it seemed his wings were not broken and he could move them, good enough.
Finally, he raised his eyes towards the other being in the room. His face was full of worry, marked with lines of pain and distress, just like a human face would show. He looked tired, worried and sad but Crowley was just happy he was back to being himself. Gone were the eyes cold as steel and the face made of unfeeling marble. His angel was alive.
"You do owe me an apology. The little dance won't cut it, you'd need to think of a whole new choreography. But first, are we in danger? Is Heaven going to attack? We have more pressing matters to discuss than you being a naive idiot! What the hell happened after I passed out?!"
Aziraphale's face fell even more, if that was possible. His eyes filled with tears and Crowley felt himself soften. Damn this angel.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you." He sighed and patted the mattress beside him. Aziraphale cautiously approached him and sat down on the bed, leaving a lot of space between them.
"You have every right to yell at me, my dear fellow. I don't... I didn't... I'm sorry I didn't listen to you! They tricked me!" The whole story just poured out of him, along with tears of shame and anguish.
Crowley wanted so badly to comfort him but restrained himself. He still remembered the last time he touched his angel and the rejection which followed after. The look of disgust and betrayal on his face, the "I forgive you" he spat at him. No, Crowley was not ready to touch him again. If the angel wanted comfort he will have to ask for it.
"So the Metatron wanted you because of that miracle we did together? To hide that prick? I knew he would bring nothing but trouble!" Crowley interrupted. "So what, our powers are compatible or something? Couldn't he just corner me himself and drain my power?"
"As far as I understood it, his instructions about The second coming spoke about two sides of the same coin? Light and dark combined. First, I thought it would be about Gabriel and Beelzebub but nobody could find them so Heaven focused on us instead. They already had me where they wanted me and even though you didn't fall for their trap it didn't matter, as they could locate you easily."
Aziraphale took a deep breath and continued, mostly speaking to his tightly clasped hands, not to the demon beside him.
"Back then I still was naive enough to think I could stop it or that even if we did join our powers together, we would still have advantage over them. They were going to make me more powerful so I felt confident. You know the rest. The moment I let the Metatron tamper with my core powers, he has bound me. It was so painful! I still feel the chain, even though your power helped me heal myself. I am still missing some parts! He broke me!" His previously calm voice turned watery again. Crowley was so glad most of his angel was intact but it seemed his carefully crafted control over his emotions was gone. Before, if Aziraphale wanted to hide, he could lie about how he was feeling. The demon wondered what else got lost and hoped in time his angel's soul would heal by itself.
"Aziraphale. What happened to the Metatron? Did you kill him?"
He shook his head. "No... I couldn't. You were right again. I'd regret it. But back then I wouldn't have controlled my rage if it wasn't for you... Thank you..."
"What did you do with him then?"
"Well... Nothing?"
"What do you mean, nothing?"
"I mean nothing! He's probably still there, frozen!"
Crowley gaped at him and then he laughed. He didn't remember the last time he did that.
"You just left him there? Good one, angel! You could have discorporated him but he'd be back spitting fire at us already, so good call!" Crowley smiled at him and Aziraphale puffed his chest like always when he received praise from his demon.
For the moment they just sat there grinning at each other like idiots, like nothing has ever happened between them, like old times.
Aziraphale was the first to remember it wasn't like that anymore and he deflated.
"I do not understand how you can so easily just talk with me like everything is fine! I know I hurt you, yet you don't seem to be angry with me!"
"Oh I was angry with you. Furious even. But I had a lot of time to just drink myself stupid and think about it. I realised you just wanted my help with what you thought was right and felt betrayed I didn't believe you could do it. Right?" The angel nodded but didn't comment. "You were wrong. I've always known Heaven is beyond help, they are rotten to the core and I don't think She's still around running things. It's not that I didn't believe in you, it was just an impossible task in the first place! Do you even know why I was so angry?"
"I think... Well, because I left without you and you thought I should stay here? I didn't listen to your warnings. And I always knew what you thought of Heaven, that you didn't have faith it could be a good place. You even tried to tempt me to stay and you were angry it didn't work, right?"
Crowley looked at the angel with disbelief. He couldn't be serious!
"You... Oh you bastard!" He didn't think he had any energy left, but the sudden fury allowed his body to jump out of bed and away from that disaster he called "angel".
"I fucking bear my soul to you and you think I was tempting you?! Are you serious right now?" He was so angry he was sure lighting would strike him if he only had any energy to spare.
"You meant it?!" He stood up too and grabbed his shoulders before Crowley could run away. "Crowley! When you said you wanted to be an us and kissed me you really meant it?!"
"How could you think so low of me?" He felt drained and empty again. His emotions were all over the place today.
"I am an angel, I can sense love! I've never sensed any coming from you! I just thought that demons couldn't fall in love." He whispered the last part, ashamed. The angel let go of his arms and took a step back, sitting down again, he hid his face in his hands.
"What?! Didn't you see Beelzebub make eyes at that stupid prick? They fucking run off together like they were stars of a romcom and you thought demons couldn't love? You knew me for over six thousand years and yet you still think the worst of me? What hurt me the most wasn't even your rejection! It was the realisation that you just wanted to change me into an angel! Turn me good. That during all of our times together you never looked passed the "evil demon" thing! That I would never be good enough for you!" He finally explained, his voice breaking. His eyes betrayed him and let a few tears fall. Again. Damn this angel! He was just too exhausted and heartbroken, he allowed his knees to fold and sat on the floor with a loud thump.
Silence fell around them, only interrupted by quiet hitching of breath.
"I never realised all my comments about you being evil were hurting you. I am a terrible friend. I never meant it! You know it was ingrained into my very being, that angels are the good guys and the demons are the opposite. I repeated that over and over because I was afraid of the consequences of saying otherwise. I thought you knew that! When I asked you to join me in Heaven I just wanted you to go back to the happiness you felt when you created the stars! I didn't...! Please forgive me Crowley, I could never think you are evil! You are the kindest creature in this universe! You were always saving humans and animals and plants, you value life more than anyone else! Of course you are good enough, it's me who's lacking." Aziraphale lost his steam after that and slumped down, looking miserable. When Crowley still didn't say anything, the angel suddenly stood up, marched towards his fallen friend and knelt before him. He gently cradled his hands and tried to catch the fleeting gaze of the exhausted demon.
"I love you too." That got the reaction, his neck snapped up so quickly it popped.
"Whaa...?"
Aziraphale smiled even though it was strained. "I can sense it now. Your love. I have no idea how I didn't before. It's so beautiful! It is a part of you so vast it feels like you've never felt different."
"I haven't. I loved you since Eden, you stupid, oblivious angel."
His eyes widened at this information. So long! So many opportunities lost. Aziraphale was suddenly feeling brave and before he could reconsider, he leaned in and kissed him. He didn't want this opportunity to get away from him too.
Crowley was taken by surprise but quickly recovered enough to kiss back. He wrapped his arms around his neck and brought him closer. He felt true happiness bubbling up inside his chest.
They kissed for what felt like eternity, completely absorbed in eachother. The demon's wings wrapped around Aziraphale, their hold weak but present. Their lips moved unhurried, hands gripped tightly. Their true forms stirred, reaching towards eachother. Crowley could feel his own infernal power residing inside his angel. If he wanted to, he was sure he could just grab it and take it back and Aziraphale would let it go willingly. He decided against it. The angel was still healing and needed it much more than he did. Crowley would recover on his own.
Their embrance was rudely interrupted. Suddenly, Uriel and Michael were standing in their room. Aziraphale jumped, startled and instantly got to his feet, standing protectively in front of his tired partner. Crowley growled and got to his feet much slower. They couldn't even get one kiss without Heaven meddling in their lives! The audacity!
"Get the fuck out of here!" He snarled, all bark and no bite. He was literally defenceless. His only hope was that powered up Aziraphale was stronger than those two together.
"Aziraphale, you've abandoned your post! That is unacceptable. What did you do with the Metatron?! We cannot fix him. As you defied your orders, you are herebly stripped of the supreme archangel position. You are going to unfreeze the Metatron and then face your sentence in Heaven!" Michael snarled at him and Crowley was about to tell her where she can stick her order but Aziraphale was faster.
"No. You should both leave before I lose my temper! You broke my mind, I am not capable of restrain anymore. You gave me power of an archangel on top of my own and then made me steal Crowley's power too! And you think you are in position to threaten us?! Begone!" He snapped his fingers angrily. Crowley swore he could feel the freezing power in the air. Both archangels couldn't even react before they got discorporated. Two more snaps followed their passing, one got rid of their dead vessels while another created a protective force around the bookshop.
"That was so hot." Crowley smirked and finally broke Aziraphale out of his angry fuming. The angel stared at him in disbelief and then blushed scarlet, looking away. Here was his adorable angel back.
"Let's just have a nap, I need to recharge and you could use some rest too." The demon crawled into bed with more grace that he should be able to muster right now. Aziraphale had a hard time looking away from him. At his insistent grabby motions he finally walked to the bed but hesitated before laying down.
"So you've forgiven me?" He asked softly.
"Let's say you will do the apology dance every day for a week and I will. And hold me when I want you to. Like right now." The angel smiled happily and finally did what he has always wanted to do - he wrapped his arms tightly around the only being in the universe who understood him and decided to never let go.
When She finally remembered to investigate that loud noise coming from Her old project, She found everything as it should be. The protectors were together, the Earth was still turning, nebulas shined brightly in the universe, gravity worked fine. Demons still needed some time to figure out they were free to do what they wanted but that was to be expected. Heaven was a bit disappointing, She admitted to Herself. Only two of her angels realised what love was about. The Metatron was a failure, She made him too proud to be useful and too stupid to interpret the instructions She left him. She believed in redemption, it worked so well on Gabriel but she wasn't sure it would help here. She took his frozen form and made it human. Let him figure out on his own why humans were her best invention in this universe. Stripped of his powers he won't be a danger to Her plan anymore.
Fortunately, nothing was broken so She decided to leave. She'd check again in a few thousand years or when She remembered about it. This experiment was a long one, no need to rush it. The protectors will take care of it for Her. Meanwhile, She had other universes to create.
As She was leaving, She brushed the tips of Her fingers through Her favourite fiery hair and left a little blessing. He did good, he should enjoy a good, fully healing sleep. And if the blessing travelled through the newly formed bond and healed the other protector? Oh well, just a little meddling won't hurt her creations. She left with a smile, knowing this universe was in right hands.
The end(?)