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Crowley, being in his snake form, was laying in one of his pots, around small Dieffenbachia, under the warm rays of the sun, wallowing in his self-pity. Falling was painful. Painful as... well, literally as hell. But his body has been hurt much less, than his immortal soul. Why asking questions became such a horrible sin? Crowley only wanted to know, why the pure art, the work of his entire life, must be destroyed so soon. There was no malice in his intentions, no greed for power. Maybe a bit of a lack of respect to authorities, but thats it.
Later he had understood the horrible truth: if you want to stay in heaven, better do not think at all. Just follow the orders, be their good-behaving puppet. Thinking? No-no-no, this sinful activity too often leads to rebellious idea.
Crowley spent centuries being lonely and bitter towards everyone and everything.
Than... he fell again, and this time he had no chances for survival.
First he met him he still had white wings and another name, forgotten and lost by now in history. Being a Seraph, Crowley hadn`t paid attention for another Cherub - worked with to many at this point. Sometimes he regretted that. Maybe he should have been listening.
Till the next time he already had learned how to crawl and tempted Eve to commit the first sin in the history of humanity. As demon saw Aziraphale in the Garden, he thought that this angel was nothing but ordinary one. How wrong he was!
This sweetest piece of vanilla marshmellow was to naive and kind-hearted for his own good. Where any other angel would stand and just watch, doing nothing, Aziraphale broke the rules, gave away his sword, his gift from Heavens, only to lessen the misery of a few punished humans.
Even today, hundreds of years later, Crowley still cannot understand, why there was no consequences for his blondy friend. It`s not that he was envying, more like curious. Well, maybe for a bit... in the very beginning... But certanly not now. If anything, he was pitying the angel. Almost each time when they met on their missions, Aziraphale was struggling while following orders, trying to find something good in his doings.
How in hell one fucking rainbow could replace hundreds of thousands of lives? After Great Flood angel cried his eyes out and was depressed for months. Azi was too good and too soft for all this bullshit.
Crowley never really wanted for Aziraphale to fall. Yes, he liked to play with him, tempt him with little pleasures, but that's it, nothing serious.
In Crowley`s eyes, Angel was the purest creature in whole universe, with his fluffy blond curls... Oh, those curls. How many times Demon dreamed to touch them, to bury his nose in those magnificent strands, to inhale his scent and live on it instead of oxigen. But Azi was too innocent and pure for his vicious desires.
Sobbing silently, Crowley hid his muzzle between the rings of his body. First and only time he tried to show the extend of his affection for Angel and he scared him. Maybe even disgusted. That was stupid of him to assume that Aziraphale's love toward humans, their inventions and cuisine would also include all aspects of human relationships.
Angel was full of contradictions.
Being scared almost to death only from the thoughts of doing something bad, he surprisingly often indulged himself with human food, frequently - on the brim of gluttony. Once he almost got himself killed by guillotine in the middle of French revolution only for some crepes, for God sake!
Aziraphale was terrible liar, but he lied a lot, while angels were not supposed to lie at all.
Whearing his heart on his sleave, he still managed to be cunning and manipulative bastard.
And remaining being faithful to Heavens, Angel had been questioning their decisions a lot.
Sweet innocent summer child, Azi had no idea what kind of images he inflicted in Crowley's mind groaning in pleasure from especially delicious food or licking leftover ice cream from a spoon.
He was abso-fucking-lutely unic with all those contrasts.
So, Crowley thought, from the very beginning he had no chances.
Demon tried to be descreet, hid his feelings deep down in his heart to be as close to the angel as possible. They spend six thousands years only to become friends and then he mastered to ruin it all in one go. How must he live without his personal sunshine? Without those blinding bright smiles and warm tentative hugs?
Tired of his own mind, which had nothing better to do than spiralling aroun one blondy for hours, Crowley slithered down from windowsill to the floor and morphed to his humanlike form, get going to the kitchen. Recently there was nothing but coffee, tea and ungodly amount of alcoholic beverages. He sees no point to stuck refregarator with food as it would be unlikely for Aziraphale to show up in his flat in the nearest future.
Demon made himself a large cup of expresso, added a few spoonfulls of whiskey and leaned on countertop, savoring the familiar hot bitterness.
Actually, it was really strange, he thought. Angel knew better than to propose him to return to Heavens, being avare of how mush Crowley hated them, still he did. And why he was so glad to accept a new role of the Supreme Archangel, while being so content for last few years, away from their ineffable plans? He risked everything to stop apocalipsys, couse he loved Earth, humanity and his bookshop just that much. And now he decided to abandon everything for what? To have power to change rules in structure, that hadn't been changed for the last six thousands years? Bullshit!
He sipped his coffee again. Something was wrong. Coffee... Coffee!
"That bloody bastard!" he cried out suddenly.
That must be it. Metatron added something in that cup of coffee, made Aziraphale drink it. And he, Crowley, sit there and did nothing. Haven't even understood. Those fucking angels better to not mistreate Azi, for if he was hurt... Oh, he, Crowley, will destroy them, kill everyone responsible. Isn't it the time to finally fully deserve the title of Fallen Angel?
In seconds he was in his car, broking every existing traffic law on his way to the bookshop.
"Muriel?" He shouted, entering closed shop without any greetings. "Muriel! I need your help!"
"Mi-mister Crowley" muttered the frightened angel, peeking from behind of one of bookshelves. "H-how could I help you?"
"We're going to assault the Heavens to rescue Aziraphale." He smiled with malice and rage boiling it his eyes.
"Of cource, Mr.Crowley, just a mi... Wait, what?!!!"