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Crowley wasn’t a nice man. By most who met him, he’d be described as the complete opposite of nice, and he knew that he wasn’t a man. Angels and demons had a different idea of gender to what most humans considered this construct to be, and Crowley was proud to not conform to what most of them seemed to want him to be. He delighted in causing as much chaos as possible, and pissing off uptight and close minded humans was far too big a temptation to resist.
That wasn’t important though, the main point was that Crowley wasn’t nice. Perhaps at one point in his existence (it didn’t feel quite right to call it his life) he had been nice, but that had been stripped away from him along with his title of Archangel. All that was left now was a cruel demon who delighted in torturing those around him.
Well, all aside from a couple of them.
Despite his quite obvious not-niceness, Crowley couldn’t find it in himself to be cruel to a certain angel. Actually, there were two certain angels he couldn’t hurt in any way, but one of them had come far from heaven in the time they had known one another, and Crowley wasn’t entirely sure he could be called an angel anymore, just as Crowley wasn’t entirely a demon since abandoning Hell.
This angel was different, and something about them was oddly familiar to Crowley, as though he knew them but also not quite. It was a strange feeling, and one he wasn’t used to in the slightest. He was quite used to seeing all the differences between himself and Aziraphale, along with some of their similarities, but there was nothing to this level before.
Muriel was a curious being, and one that Crowley recognised far too well. He’d never worked with them when he was an angel, and he hadn’t cared to get to know any angels he didn’t already know before his fall. There was a spark in them that Crowley knew all too well, from his own time as an angel and beneath his anger when he was a demon. Curiosity and questioning, a desire to know more.
It was that same spark that had caused Crowley to fall years ago, shortly after the beginning. Perhaps it was different with him, though. He had been an Archangel, and Muriel was far from that. They couldn’t have those in charge asking questions, but a lower class angel wouldn’t be too much of an issue for Heaven. They could be dealt with much more easily, and nobody would notice if they were gone.
This angel was everything Crowley had been, but in a different position. That could’ve been another reason they had stayed in Heaven for so long, nobody seeing them much at all. An offhand comment thrown to the side had given away how isolated Muriel was, only seen when they were needed by an angel of a higher class than them. Every issue with Heaven was thrown their way and they took it all in, adapting and ignoring everything wrong with it.
Much like Aziraphale, they clearly failed to see what was wrong with the entire institution, and seemed to want to be in Heaven regardless of what could be wrong. Pain was being inflicted upon them and it had been driven into their mind that it was all normal. They had no idea how much Heaven was hurting them, and Crowley knew for a fact that it was definitely hurting them. There was no way it wasn’t, not from what he’d heard of their experiences.
Muriel had been so excited to come to Earth, to see anyone at all for longer than a few minutes, that it was almost impossible for Crowley to be as cruel as he usually was. Nothing would stop him from messing around with any angels that visited Earth, but something about this one in particular was different. They were far too pure for the world, something Crowley couldn’t say about most angels. A lot of those who came to Earth were part of the corruption of Heaven already, and were even the source of the pain others endured.
Pure and uncontained curiosity, that was what Muriel had, and it was rather sweet to see. Crowley would never say something like that out loud, but they reminded him of Aziraphale discovering everything good and tempting about the world, as well as his own adventures in finding out more about all the Earth had to offer. Muriel needed a little guidance in their discoveries though, and for the first time since he had helped Aziraphale, Crowley found himself willing to provide that aid to an angel.
It had all started with a book. A simple enough gift, but from Crowley it held a lot of weight. Each book in the bookstore meant far more to Aziraphale and Crowley than anyone would at first suspect. Both of them knew the layout of the bookstore like the back of the hands of their earthly bodies. Crowley could remember where each book was placed and exactly which copies of which book Aziraphale owned, and even giving away a singular one was a major change to the shop.
Muriel had seen it as a big gesture, although it was clear that they didn’t fully understand how important a gift it was coming from Crowley. They had taken it and thanked him as any angel would, and then gone off to start reading it somewhere. Only they didn’t exactly know how to properly read, as it wasn’t something required of them in Heaven all too often. The last time they had needed to read was when Aziraphale had approached them about the permit Crowley had been given from God in regards to Job’s earthly possessions.
After a long drive in his car to get away from everything for a while, Crowley had returned to the bookshop to see Muriel still stuck on the first page of the book they had been given. He sat (or to be more accurate, collapsed) in the armchair he so often claimed as his own when spending time in the bookstore with his Aziraphale. Well, when the angel had still been his Aziraphale, at least.
“You know, it helps if you get past the first page.” Muriel looked up, a little surprised by the demon’s voice but smiling and nodding after the second it took to process it.
“Yeah, obviously, I knew that. It’s just that um…” They trailed off, looking down at the book and freezing. How did they say that they couldn’t remember how to read? They hadn’t had to even think about reading for centuries and now they had a book, the one thing they’d asked for when they thought they were leaving the bookshop for good, they couldn’t remember the slightest about how to make the words make sense.
The letters all looked familiar but human fiction was so alien to them, and they didn’t know where to start with it all. Crowley sighed and got up from his armchair, sprawling out across the couch next to Muriel. They stayed exactly where they were, seemingly scared to move an inch. It made sense, Crowley had been rather cold to them in the past, despite being more friendly than he had to any other angels. He took the book from their hands, flicking through it and then opening it up on the first page again.
“ It was the day my grandmother exploded ,” He read out loud, frowning at it. Books had never interested him much, and this one was no different. If Muriel wanted to read though, he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to assisting them. He knew how to read, and even if they didn’t admit it, they were definitely struggling to do so. He passed the book back over, leaning back on the sofa and getting more comfortable.
“Keep going with it. Read it out loud.” Muriel looked at him with a question clear in their eyes, and Crowley stayed silent. He wanted them to do this without him having to fill in. He could see how much Muriel was burning to ask questions, and he was going to encourage them to do so. Questions got him to where he was now, and he couldn’t say it was a completely awful position, despite all the downsides to it. Those questions got him out of a place of pain, if only temporarily, and he found himself unable to regret asking a single one.
“What- I mean, if you don’t mind my asking, that is… Why-?” Finally a small smile appeared on Crowley’s face. Muriel was an angel, it would take a while for them to ask questions properly, but this was a good start. They were able to ask why, and that was good enough to begin with.
“You want to read it and it’s obvious you’re struggling. So read it out loud and stop when you can’t work it out.” Muriel looked a little confused by it all but nodded after a moment, taking the book properly and focusing on the words. They slowly began to read it out loud, stopping at a couple of words and glancing up to Crowley for some sort of help. He glanced over their shoulder to see which words they were pointing to and then read them for Muriel, always hearing the same words repeated back to him immediately.
An hour or so passed of the same before Crowley got bored and Muriel wanted to put the book down, eager to explore the rest of the bookshop. With a sigh, the demon stood up from the sofa and started the tour, pointing out where different books went. He knew his way around far too well for this place to be considered just Aziraphale’s bookshop. It had become theirs over the time they’d spent together after the first attempt of Armageddon.
Fiction filled up the majority of the lower floor, with more academic books lining the shelves upstairs. Then they were all organised using the Dewey Decimal System, although Aziraphale had made his own adjustments to it to suit his personal tastes. Every book had a place, and when new ones were acquired, they were each given a place.
Muriel was quick to learn, and could soon recite exactly where any given book would go if they found it out of place. There was order and a proper way to do things, a somewhat comforting system after all that time spent in Heaven. In a world of confusion and chaos, the bookshop started to make sense. They would follow the rules and it all made sense.
Reading with Crowley became somewhat of a regular occurrence over time. Despite how painful it was for him to be in the bookshop, he couldn’t stay away for long. It was as though he was dragged back to it no matter how far he attempted to run away. He’d slouch on the sofa next to Muriel as they read out loud, providing assistance (he refused to call it help, he would never help an angel) whenever they needed it.
This place, the place that used to feel so much like home to him, now felt far too empty, although Muriel definitely brightened it up a little. They were discovering everything about the world all at once, which Crowley could only imagine was incredibly overwhelming. He’d discovered each thing about Earth as it was developed, concepts and ideas being introduced to him over thousands of years, and here was Muriel trying to learn it all in one go.
Slowly their interactions became more than the reading sessions and glances at each other when in the bookshop together. Crowley introduced Muriel to food and drink first, although it took them a few goes to actually try it out. They developed a taste for herbal teas, although they never dared touch the collection at the back of the bookstore. Those belonged to Aziraphale, and his things were to be left alone, at least that’s what Crowley had said one time.
So they would sit together and read in the afternoons, and then in the evenings Muriel would have a large mug of herbal tea and Crowley would have a bottle of some sort of alcohol in hand. They’d drink and talk together, Crowley doing what he could to subtly encourage Muriel to ask more questions. Until finally one day, Muriel asked something that he hadn’t been expecting in the slightest.
“May I- if it’s alright with you, I mean- Could I try some of that?” They gestured towards the bottle of wine in Crowley’s hand, quickly dropping both their hand and gaze from the demon. It took a moment for the question to fully process, but once it did Crowley grinned and reached out for a spare glass. He poured out a small amount into it for Muriel and handed it over, watching carefully.
“Here, take a sip first, like you would with tea. Gulping it down really isn’t recommended for your first time.” Muriel nodded and took the glass, eyeing it up for a few seconds before raising it to their lips, taking the most miniscule of sips. Their nose scrunched up immediately, but then they relaxed and took another small sip, slightly larger than the first.
“It tastes strange. I didn’t expect the source of drunkenness to taste like this.” Crowley raised an eyebrow at the comment, more than a little amused by the discovery. Muriel had a tendency to share their thoughts on new experiences as they happened, always providing a rather interesting commentary to it all.
“There are different ones as well. It doesn’t all taste the same. You might prefer a different drink.” Angels tended to have a slightly sweeter tooth, he’d noticed over the years. Every time they consumed any human food or drink, it was always far sweeter than Crowley would be inclined to ingest himself. He’d have to offer some other types of alcohol in the future and see just what Muriel liked the most, then perhaps the small store at the back of the bookshop would grow to include both their preferences.
“I would like to try. If it isn’t too much of a problem, that is.” They hesitated, thinking things over before adding on, “And if that’s what most humans do.” Crowley grinned and nodded, pouring more wine into Muriel’s glass before topping up his own and placing the now empty bottle on the ground. He moved to almost lie down on the sofa now, Muriel sitting on the armchair across from him.
“Course, at some point I’ll take you across to the pub. Best to go there with someone else, at least for your first time. Don’t want to go in knowing nothing about it at all.” Muriel nodded and offered Crowley a large smile, which he returned after a few seconds of silence between them. Having an angel in the bookshop just felt right, even if this one wasn’t the one he was used to and knew well.
Many more evenings passed like that, the duo attempting the pub once but Muriel finding it overwhelming and Crowley taking them back across the street almost immediately. They sampled different drinks and alcohols from the comfort of the bookshop, Muriel discovering which they liked and which they weren’t so fond of. As expected, they leaned towards the sweeter ones, and soon enough the stock of wine had expanded to include Muriel’s favourite drinks as well.
Days turned into weeks, which turned into months of the same routine. Memories of time spent with Aziraphale danced around him like ghosts everywhere he looked, but they were slowly fading into the background as Crowley made more with Muriel.
They were different from the memories with Aziraphale, very different, but he hadn’t expected them to be even somewhat similar. No friendship or relationship with anyone would ever compare to what he had with his angel, and he never wanted another one to. With Muriel it was a strange sort of thing though, and he felt a protectiveness over them, a desire to keep them safe from Heaven and everything that was wrong with it.
Where with Aziraphale he had longed to pull him close with the intent to kiss him, with Muriel he wanted to hold them near so no harm would come to them. He wanted to teach them about the world and show them how wonderful it could be, and he wanted to take them under his wing as they explored everything that was so exciting to them. Muriel was curious, and Crowley wanted nothing more than to encourage that curiosity and allow it to grow with each passing moment.
Their time together became more and more precious to Crowley, each conversation meaning more to him as they got to know each other better. It turned out that Muriel loved to read just as much as Aziraphale, and listened to all of Crowley’s playlists with great interest, taking in as much as they could. Crowley hadn’t fully realised how much they enjoyed Queen and the rest of his personal music taste until he arrived at the bookshop one day to see them listening to his favourite songs without his prompting.
They appreciated Aziraphale’s many classical records, but they always ended up falling back to Crowley’s music, intrigued by it. On one occasion Crowley had even decided to show Muriel how to dance to the songs on his playlists, the angel spending the rest of the evening dancing around the bookshop with a large grin on their face. Aided by alcohol, the two made it a more regular occurrence, dancing around in the evenings and actually laughing together once.
It was the first time in months that Crowley had laughed, his joy usually only stretching to a smile at the most. Ever since Aziraphale left, it hadn’t felt quite right to laugh or be happy at all, and yet in this moment he found himself unable to stop the quiet sound from escaping him. Muriel was so full of joy at the discoveries they were making, and it was infectious. Yes, for the first time in a long while, it felt okay to let himself laugh.
After that night, laughter became more common throughout the bookstore. It was returning to a place of happiness and warmth and home for all those who resided there. Crowley found himself smiling more often, especially when Muriel was around, and they were growing closer each and every day.
It was a few weeks later that Crowley introduced a new concept to Muriel, interested to see how they’d take it. He loved to sleep sometimes, and naps were one of the greatest inventions ever in his opinion. If Muriel wanted to try to fit in a little better with the human world, they would surely want to try this thing.
“Just close your eyes and stay there until you fall asleep. It takes a while but you’ll get it. Just try not to think too hard about it.” Muriel nodded and settled down on the couch, lying down where Crowley would normally be sprawled. They were wearing a very different outfit to normal, pyjamas that were far more comfortable than their regular apparel.
“Is there something else that would make it easier? Just, I don’t think I can do it.” They had gotten a lot better at asking questions when they wanted to, and Crowley was proud of the progress they’d made. He grabbed a book from the desk and opened it up, glancing at the first few pages and smiling ever so slightly.
“Just stay there and listen, alright?” He didn’t mean for it to sound so hostile, and luckily Muriel didn’t realise his slip up of tone. They turned to be on their side, looking up at Crowley as he read, glasses discarded on the desk. It was easier to read without them on, and he felt comfortable enough to leave them there for the evening.
With a glass of wine in one hand and the book in the other, he began to read to Muriel, content to sit there for the night. Once he’d started reading to them, it didn’t take long for them to fall asleep, soft snores alerting Crowley to it. He smiled slightly at the sight of the angel asleep on the couch and placed the book down on the desk. He’d made up his mind to wait until they woke up before he went to sleep himself, not wanting them to panic after their first night of actually sleeping.
In the end, they only slept for a couple of hours, yawning as they awoke and stretching out. It felt so human, much more human than anything else they’d experienced, and they couldn’t say it was unpleasant in the slightest. What they were most surprised by was how Crowley had stayed in his armchair, still awake but with the sunglasses back on now. They’d thought he would’ve gotten bored by then, but he was still there, bottle of wine now empty as he lost himself in thought for a while.
It was Muriel’s stirring that caught Crowley’s attention, dragging him back to the present and the world around him. If not for his sheer willpower of wanting to remain awake, he would be fast asleep at this point, and he could feel his eyes begin to close as he sat there.
“That was quite nice, actually. I like it, but it is a bit uncomfortable when I stop sleeping again.” Crowley let a lazy smile appear on his face, not paying enough attention to hide it. Muriel’s discoveries were, quite frankly, adorable to witness, especially their opinions of each new thing they tried.
“I’ll get an extra bed set up in the back tomorrow, it’s much more comfortable.” He paused, trying to psych himself up to stand up and go to the back for his own nap, but the exhaustion won. “If you need something, and I mean really need, I guess you can wake me up. Stand back if you do though, just in case.” Muriel nodded quickly at his instruction and picked up a book from the side. It was one directed at a younger audience, but it was still a nice story and one that they could read without any help from Crowley.
For the rest of the night the two remained like that, Crowley curled up in the armchair that was once Aziraphale’s favourite place to sit, and Muriel working their way through a book. They were happy enough like that, nothing needed to change for them. Aziraphale was wrong when he’d said that nothing lasts forever, because this could. Crowley and Muriel in the bookshop together, good friends, a new chapter of the book of their lives.
Of course they couldn’t completely move on. It was only a new chapter, not a new book entirely. The reminders of what they had moved on from had arrived in the form of a pair of letters, delicate calligraphy on the envelopes addressing one to each of the current residents. Crowley knew the style all too well and instantly cast his own letter to the desk, ignoring it for a while. Muriel was still an angel though, and still curious. Their letter was opened in an instant, their eyes scanning over it and taking in every detail.
Each day, the letter seemed to stare at Crowley from its place on the desk, never even touched by Muriel. It was addressed to him, and they knew not to move the things he’d put down. They’d made that mistake once early on and then never again.
Despite Crowley’s insistence on avoiding his letter, Muriel had to come up with a plan of sorts. It was an evening without alcohol for once, the two on the couch together with Muriel very sleepily allowing themself to lean against Crowley, and the demon accepting it. He’d become protective of Muriel, and if they needed rest they would often go up to him and lean against him to let him know, Crowley always alright with the light physical affection.
“Can you read to me?” Crowley nodded without thinking, but froze completely when he saw what was being held up for him to take. Aziraphale’s letter to Muriel was right there, envelope open and revealing a small snippet of the contents. He hesitated but took it, not removing the actual letter yet but holding onto the envelope, snake eyes flickering over the familiar lettering on the front.
“Angel…” That nickname had a new meaning now, a different tone when he used it for Muriel than when he used it for Aziraphale, or for any of the others. When he used that nickname for Muriel, it was affectionate and sweet, a term of endearment that was very different from how it had always been used by him before. Crowley was still unable to take the letter out, staring at it for a long while.
“I can pick something else.” Muriel reached out, finding a random book instead, and Crowleye handed back the letter with a frown. He wanted to be able to read out the letter for Muriel, but he just couldn’t do it. One day he might, but not yet. It had been months since Aziraphale had left him and left the bookshop, and yet Crowley still couldn’t face him properly. He was pathetic, he couldn’t even open a letter from him.
“I will at some point. Not tonight, but I will.” It was a promise he hadn’t been expecting to make at any point, but he heard the words fall from his lips before he fully registered what he was saying. He would read the letters from Aziraphale, but it wouldn’t be for a long while, not until he felt fully ready for what would almost certainly be written.
Muriel nodded slightly and only took a minute or so to fall asleep after their conversation, Crowley reading the start of the new book to them. It was discarded almost immediately when he heard their snores, and he just stayed where he was, not wanting to move Muriel at all. They’d gotten beds for the back, and a room had been converted into a room just for Muriel, but they always preferred to be around Crowley for some unknown reason.
His thoughts floated back to the letter on his desk, but he couldn’t bring himself to even touch it. If he read it, there was no guarantee that anything could change. Aziraphale had chosen to leave him, even when he had known that there was no way Crowley would willingly go back to Heaven. He had betrayed everything they were, their own side separate from all other teams or sides of a war they didn’t want to be in.
Aziraphale had chosen Heaven’s side, leaving Crowley alone again. He’d been lonely until Job, just a demon going along with Hell as much as he could, and then he’d finally found someone to join his side. With one little sentence, he had turned his back on their side and chosen Heaven. Crowley was left alone, aside from Muriel. Another angel who wasn’t falling, but wasn’t the perfect example of what they were supposed to be.
Crowley understood Muriel, he was them before in some sort of way, and now all he could do was make sure they didn’t go back to a place of hurting. Regardless of how angry and confused and upset he was about Aziraphale’s decision to leave, he had to make sure this angel didn’t make the same mistakes. He had to stop them from hurting another being he had grown to care for, even if he’d never admit how he felt about Muriel.
They were like a young child in Crowley’s eyes, reliant on those who had more experience than them to guide them in their discoveries and understanding of the world. As Muriel slept against him, it finally clicked in his mind how he might truly feel about them. He’d read about it in so many of the books that Muriel insisted he read for them, and in the ones they’d read to him too, but for some reason he had never quite noticed the parallels until now.
Images of them having different roles, almost being human in the way they acted, filled his mind, and he couldn’t hold back the small smile that rose to his face as he considered the possibilities. If they were neither angels nor demons, nor anything in between, Crowley could see the two of them in certain scenarios described in the books that lined the shop shelves. His imagination had always been something that set him apart from other demons, and now it was flooding his entire head with what they would be like if they were human.
Muriel was a child, a newborn to the world, still learning. And Crowley was a sour old man, experienced with everything aside from this. He knew love, he knew heartbreak, he knew peace and war, and calm and chaos. He knew happiness that made him feel like he might burst at any second, and he knew sadness that rendered him unable to move. He knew so many things.
But he had never known family. He’d never known having a child of his own, and he never had any desire to know what it was like. If anyone ever so much as suggested the idea, he would’ve scoffed in their face instantly. Having someone around who was that dependent on him had never been appealing in the slightest. He didn’t need a family, and he certainly didn’t want one.
At least, not until now.