Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Crowley was in the midst of the biggest storm this part of the earth¹ had seen in millennia and stared at nothing in particular.

Hail and rain were drumming against his skin and the wind was tugging at every available surface it could reach with brutal force ². There was no discernable pause between lightning and thunder anymore and against all odds it struck everywhere but him, even though he was the highest point in miles, try as it might.

Crowley just stood there and let the storm he had conjured himself try to hurt him. (And wasn't that just poetic?)

He didn't care. There was nothing left to hurt anyway, his whole being was one big ugly wound at this point. He was bloody and raw and completely ripped apart. He was burnt to the ground, charred and cold as the bloody Uranus ³. He was in so numb and in so, so, so much agony. Falling had not hurt half as much and he had literally been burned alive from the inside out for an entire eternity for that one.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there, at this godforsaken coastline staring at nothing. He didn't know if the cold wetness on his face was only from the rain and the sea or if this, too was of his own doing.

He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what in Hell's name he had done to deserve all of this. He just wanted the pain to end.

„Oh, Crowley.“

Once upon a time ⁴ Crowley would have sprung out of his skin and cursed a storm at the entity that just appeared right next to him. Now though... Now he could not find it in him to be surprised or afraid anymore. He didn't jump, didn't flinch, didn't even so much as blink. He just turned his head the slightest bit at the newcomer.

„They really did a number on you, didn't they“, it wasn't really a question.

Crowley wouldn't have been in the mood to answer anyway.
He just watched the figure beside him blankly and waited for the next thing to happen.

Whatever Lucifer wanted here, now, from him he didn't know and didn't care. It didn't matter.

But much to Crowley's... not surprise exactly, he didn't have it in him to be surprised, mild curiosity maybe? - Lucifer did nothing.

He just stood there, right next to Crowley, against the Bentley and watched the storm. Crowley waited a few minutes before he decided to ignore him. He turned back again staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes and let himself suffer for a bit longer while rain and hail and wind and lightning picked up.

It was a very long time before the weather had calmed down to a sad and exhausted drizzle.

Crowley was alone again.

He opened the door of the Bentley, got in and began to drive.

¹ The part of the earth being the coastline of the Dengie National Nature Reserve in Essex to be exact. Not that Crowley would have known or cared about that, it was just the nearest place the Bentley could reach as fast as possible to get her owner away from human settlements. After all these years the Bentley was quite fond of humans and did not want to see them harmed by an (as deserved as it was) rather extreme emotional outbreak of a demon. Something for which Crowley would have been immensly thankful for if he would have, in fact, cared at all at this point. ↑

² If there had been any cows in the near vicinity they would have probably startet flying by now. But alas there were no cows. Only Crowley, who was above – or rather below – such things as getting picked up by a bit of wind. ↑

³ To quote the Wikipedia article of the planet Uranus: „The planet's atmosphere has a complex layered cloud structure and has the lowest minimum temperature of 49 K (−224°C; −371 F) out of all Solar System's planets.“
Get your mind out of the gutter, that was not supposed to be an innuendo. ↑

⁴ 4 hours, 46 minutes and 58 seconds ago ↑

Chapter Text

Crowley groaned at the light that was streaming trough the blinds of the single bathroom window and pressed his eyelids back together. He grabbed blindly beside him for his sunglasses.

After a bit of patting around he finally felt something on the cold tiles right next to his head ¹ and grasped it firmly.

The nociceptors in his hand informed him of an interference with his skin tissue and he could almost instantly feel blood rushing to the offending cuts on his palm and fingers. He blearly opened one eye and looked at the glasses in his hand.

They were broken. Huh.

Funny, that.

Crowley sighed and slowly sat up. After the worst of the dizziness had passed he tried to concentrate and miracle his glasses back together. ² It took way more effort than he would ever been willing to admit under normal circumstances ³ to perform this small act and when he was done they still looked a bit worse for the wear. The frame was a bit skewed and there was still a crack on the right lens. The rim also had a slight tartan hue to it, which he chose to ignore.

Good enough.

He stood up and stepped through a mess of empty bottles and the broken shards of the mirror that used to adorn the wall of the frankly disgusting bathroom into the trashed motel room he was currently staying at.

He pushed a couple of bottles haphazardly with his feet around to see if any of them had any liquid left in them. No such luck.

...Damn.

Just a few days before Crowley had – rather cruelly – found out that miracling himself alcohol would always result getting bottles of what used to be their favorite wines straight out of the basement from a certain book shop in Soho. Been there, done that, not particularly in the mood for another panic attack just now.

Which meant he had to go out and buy something.

Another sigh left him as he shuffled to the front door and opened it to find himself standing in the evening sun in front of a rather empty parking lot... somewhere...

Crowley was pretty sure he wasn't on the isle anymore. Maybe not even Europe.

Wherever he was, he had apparently brought neither the Bentley, nor his phone with him.

Not particularly in the mood to try another minor miracle just for it to fail again in some Angel-related way, as they tended to do for him now apparently ⁴ he just started walking in what he assumed was the general direction of the nearest town.

After hours of walking Crowley was pretty sure he had either taken the wrong road after all or that the godforsaken Motel was in the actual middle of Nowhere, with a capital N.

Also, the alcohol levels in his blood had dropped to a dangerously low level by now. ⁵

With every further step he took, Crowley could feel previously violently suppressed thoughts and memories worming their way back into his mind. His head was throbbing with pain and every breath got progressively more labored.

His chest was aching so much.

And still the flashes of memories got worse and worse. 

Soon, Crowley couldn't do anything but to cower into a tight ball on the side of this damned road, in damned Nowhere and desperately tried to breathe through it all and desperately hope for the end.

A bright red sports car came to a sudden halt next to him and the passenger door opened. ABBA's Take a chance on me was blaring out of the speakers.

„Come on. Get on in then,“ said Lucifer.

Crowley got in the car.

¹ So what, Crowley had slept on the floor. What's it to you? Mind your own goddamn business. ↑

² He left his hand as it was. Why bother? ↑

³ Not that there was anyone to admit it to, anyway. ↑

⁴ Something Crowley had to find quite fast. There was of course the aforementioned wine summoning but other instances included (but where not limited to):

• a fucking farthing materializing in his hand completely out of the blue when he had tried to summon some money for booze
• every piece of upholstery and bedding in the motel becoming off white and beige tartan, when he had just tried to miracle his room clean
• all of the radio stations and TV channels playing that stupid nightingale song as soon as he walked by
• the face of a certain white haired angel appearing in a motel bathroom mirror (that one could also have been an alcohol and heartbreak induced hallucination, though)

  ↑

⁵ Meaning, still way over what any human body would be able to survive. Unfortunately Crowley had over the course of the last six millennia, and particularly these last however many days? weeks? built up a rather high tolerance. ↑

Chapter Text

When you are a car that has been in the hands of a demon with an abundance of imagination and love for beautiful machinery such as yourself for almost one hundred years a few things are bound to change within your very being.

Infused with so much infernal (and ethereal) energy and so many miracles as she was, the Bentley had developed what could only be described as a consciousness.

She was way more than any old car now. She had thoughts. She had feelings.

She was able to love.

For example, she loved to feel the wind on her windshield when she drove especially fast. She also loved Queen¹ , puddles on the asphalt after a rain, and hearing human passerby admiring her beauty.

Most of all of course she loved Crowley and Aziraphale. ²

Now, though the Bentley had a different feeling. The feeling that something was very, very wrong.

She had not ever felt like this. Not even when she was going up in flames.³

She felt... lost.

It had been over a week since Crowley had left her standing in the middle of nowhere in Wiltshire and just took off by foot.

She had waited very patiently for him to return, had played soft music to calm the plants in her backseat even. But not only did he not return, she could even feel him anymore. He had just... vanished.

By now the first leaves of Crowleys beloved plants had begun to wilt and she could do nothing to stop it.

Crowley had been so distraught the last time he had been in her. She still remembered the hail beating down on her roof ⁴ and the crazy amount of lightning strikes all around them.

She had just wanted to help him. But it he had left her behind.

Did Crowley not love her anymore?

Where was he? Why did she not feel him anymore? … Or Aziraphale?

Why did he leave them? Aziraphale had told her that she was lovely. Wasn't she?

Did... did she do something wrong?

Was it because she wasn't yellow and slow?

The Bentley stood in the middle of a road in nowhere, Wiltshire and would have cried if she had tear ducts.

She wanted to have Crowley back. She wanted Crowley to have Aziraphale back. She wanted to go back.

She wanted to go home.

¹ The band of course, she did not have a particularly strong opinion on the monarchy either way ↑

² Crowley slightly more of course. She was a Daddy's girl after all.

Besides, as much as she did enjoy the yellow paintwork she had not been a fan of that decidedly Not-Freddie-Mercury music he had forced upon her. Or the lack of speed in his driving style. ↑

³ That had just been weird all around to be honest. ↑

⁴ Of course not denting it. Not even the detonation of a bomb right next to her had managed that. ↑

Chapter Text

Somewhere in Australia Mama Mia was blaring trough the night from the speakers of a crimson Ford Mustang Shelby GT500. There was a figure leaning against it's hood and another one sitting on the ground beside it.

Would anyone have stumbled upon the car and its two passengers, they would have wondered how it got there, right on the top of a rather steep and rocky hill. There was not a street in sight and while it would maybe have been possible for an off-roader to get up there, it certainly shouldn't be for that low rider.

Not that any car of the devil would let itself be limited by such trivial things.

„How can you stand this swill?“ Lucifer looked downright disgusted at the offending bottle of Auntie Margaret's finest in his hand.

Crowley couldn't. That was the whole point. He wanted something he wouldn't have touched with a ten foot pole.

He took another swig. So did Lucifer.

„How can you stand any of this even?“ Lucifer gestured at the lights of the city in the distance.

„Why is it you don't hate this pathetic little planet and those, ugly little...,“ he did a pause, seemingly too disgusted for words, „...vermin?“

„They are dirty and hateful and weak. And still they are the main attraction. They get the souls, the free will... even Her love.

How come they get it all? They don't deserve any of it!“

Lucifer drank the remainder of his hooch in one big gulp.

„How can you of all people still love them?“

There was a time Crowley would have an answer. Now though he wasn't even sure if he did in fact still loved anything at all ¹. So he said nothing and just offered Lucifer a new bottle.

Lucifer regarded him for a moment with a weird intensity before sighing and taking it.

They drank another couple of bottles each in almost companionable silence ².

„Ya know, who'ver this...,“ he paused to read the label,

„-this Auntie Mag'ret is she r'lly,“ Satan leaned in to emphasize his point,

„really d'serves t' burn in hell.“

Lucifer seemed to think very hard for a moment.

„I- I hope she is in hell. I wanna meet 'er. Do you think she wants to bec'me... like a... demon? I wanna make 'er a demon! D'you think I can make 'er a demon? Or like... a duke? Duk-duch- duchess? Of hell?“

He burped.

Crowley nodded. Auntie Margaret would make a very fine duchess of hell. Maybe even queen? ³

He lifted his bottle to clink his bottles with Lucifer who looked absolutely delighted at the sound and proceeded to crawl to the nearest empty bottles and mash them together in the vague rhythm of Money, Money, Money.

Crowley was almost disappointed he didn't have his voice right now to sing along. Instead he settled for wobbling back and forth in the vague imitation of a dance until he got dizzy and dropped on his side like a sack of potatoes.

He might have chuckled a bit at that. He might also have cried. Who was to say?

Lucifer plopped down on the ground next to him and droned an incomprehensible parody of what used to be another ABBA song ⁴ at the sky.

By the time dawn arrived and the first beams of sunlight hit the earth both of them had long passed out.

¹ He did. To a fault. ↑

² Except for Agnetha, Björn, Benny and Anni-Frid who continued to drone on about some guy called Fernando ↑

³ Mrs Margaret Bridget May was not in hell. She was very much still alive and in perfect health. She had celebrated her 89's birthday just last month in the circle of family and friends as well as copious amounts of alcohol. ↑

⁴ Dancing Queen ↑

Chapter Text

Crowley and Lucifer were sitting on the Kilimanjaro and watched the night sky.

Over the course of the last month or so they had established something of a schedule.

Every day Crowley would wake up alone, hungover and hurting all over with no idea where he was.

He would treat himself to a liquid breakfast.

Then he would start to walking in random directions or steal himself a car.

Lucifer would appear out of nowhere and they would keep drinking deep into the night.

Rinse and repeat.

„Isn't it weird, that it's me who they call the Morningstar? I mean that whole... space stuff was always your thing,“ Lucifer said, apropos of nothing.

„You were so proud of them, too. I remember how much you loved it. Wouldn't shut up about it.“

Crowley remembered that time. The pure wonder he felt when he turned the stars on for the first time. How he turned around and looked at -

No.

Not a good memory after all. ¹

As a general rule Crowley tried to steer his brain away from thinking about anything ² and limiting his self-loathing time to only a couple hours a day.

He was slowly getting better ³.

Unaware or perhaps uncaring of Crowley's aversion to the topic at hand Lucifer continued,

„I remember how you would just go on and on 'Oh Lucifer, I did some more nebulae today! They are beautiful!' 'Hey Lucifer, today there was the sweetest Angel, he liked my Stars, Lucifer! He said they were pretty!' 'Luci-'“

Crowley punched the stone wall next to him. Hard.

The devil looked shocked for a second before lifting his hands in a placating gesture.

„Wrong topic, got it, got it.“

Crowley did a short nod and went back to nursing the cheap vodka they had gotten before coming up here.

„...Are you aware that you hand is broken?“

Ah... Well, it did look a bit weird and mangled around that bottle...

Lucifer did a little wav-y motion with his own hand and Crowley could feel his bones mending themselves again.

„You know, this whole... talking thing would be a lot easier if you would talk back, you know?“

Crowley just glared. He didn't want to speak. Speaking was... tedious. Loud. Painful.

„I know, I know... But you could maybe, what do they call it...? Sign?“

Crowley contemplated that for a bit.

O.K., he signed.

The devil grinned from ear to ear. ⁴ And lifted his own vodka bottle in a toast.

„To silent talks!“

They clinked bottles.

¹ Crowley didn't think he had any good memories left at all at this point. ↑

² Unfortunately he got mixed results at best. ↑

³ He really wasn't. ↑

⁴ Don't tell him, but he did look kind of deranged. ↑

Chapter Text

Muriel loved earth very much.

There was so much to see! Everything was so different from heaven!

For one, it was a lot messier. But in a good way! Everything was bustling with life all around them. There were so many sights to explore, so many smells and noises and colors! Oh, the colors!

Just a few days ago Muriel had discovered what humans called 'Neon' colors and their eyes had not stopped watering since. It was just so radiant. Almost like looking directly into the sun. Absolutely fantastic but also very overwhelming.

And if that didn't sum up earth as a whole.

Because as much as Muriel loved their new life it was a lot. A lot, a lot.

Sometimes they felt almost paralyzed by the sheer amount of... everything. They had never once felt so unprepared for anything.

On their second day as newly appointed bookshop keeper a book had dropped into the shop. It contained a brief handwritten instruction on living as a human, how to manage a bookshop ¹ , how and when to work miracles, and a rather long paragraph about the dichotomy of human nature.

Humans, Muriel had learned were way more complex than they'd previously assumed. They came in all kinds of shapes and sizes. All of them so vastly different from one another. Each and every human had been formed by their lives, but even when they had the same experiences they could react so vastly different! And the complexity of their emotions! Not once in the (admittedly rather short) time here on earth had Muriel seen a truly good or evil person. There was so much in between and so much space for interpretation. It was way too much for one scrivener to understand.

Mortality, Muriel found, was another strange concept.

Humans had so little time. Their bodies got older every day just for one day to stop functioning at all. They seldom ever lived up to a hundred years. It was incomprehensible to them how people just dealt with that. And that was not even including all the other things that could happen to them at all times. There were accidents and diseases and wars.

It was one thing knowing about all of that on a theoretical level but suddenly seeing it for themselves was... terrifying.

When Muriel had told Nina about their struggles on one evening in the coffee shop she had just shrugged and told her that it was easier not to think about it.

„That's a one way road to nothing but anxiety. If you think about it too much you go crazy. We just have to accept that we are here, now, and try to make the best out of it. 't's the human condition, isn't it,“ she had said and kept on sweeping the floor.

Nina and Maggie had been, for lack of a better word, a blessing to Muriel.

Both of them had stormed into the bookshop on day seven of their stay on earth. They'd demanded to know where Aziraphale and Crowley were and when Muriel had told them that the first had moved away for a promotion and they didn't know where the other was, they had traded a very long look.

Muriel knew that was something humans in love did often. They had read a lot about this in the romantic novels of Mr. Aziraphale. They thought it was very cute.

After that the two of them had become something of a fixture in the shop. It had turned out that both of them knew about their (not-so-human) nature which had Muriel shocked until she found out that the Supreme Archangel himself had told them (or at least known that they knew and done nothing about it), so it really couldn't be a bad thing, could it. Besides, being able to ask the two of them about human things and life on earth helped them tremendously.

Nina was pretty adamant that Muriel should experience a lot of different things while they were here and now the three of them did something new at least once a week together. They had been in a restaurant, seen a movie ² and went out to the park. One time they even went shopping for new clothes for Muriel.

The best one of their excursions in Muriels opinion had been when they and Maggie visited a gardening expo, though. Flowers were their new favorite thing. They were just so very lovely and pretty.

Muriel had heard a lot about friendships and they thought that maybe Nina and Maggie were their friends. The thought was very nice. Maybe one of these days they would find the courage to ask.

One other thing Muriel had noticed was that time on earth moved very differently than it did in heaven. By now they had been at their new post for forty-five days which was barely any time at all but somehow felt like a whole life time ³ to them.

When they told Maggie she had said that was probably because everything was so new to them. She said that was also why the early childhood seemed to last much longer to any human and the older one got the faster time would fly by.

Muriel had smiled and nodded as though they understood and Maggie had continued to show them new music to listen to. ⁴

They found that they kind of liked music. In particular what Maggie had told them was called indie folk music. They liked the slow melodic flow of it. It reminded them of water. Muriel liked to listen to it at night, after closing hours. It calmed them down after all of the excitement of the day.

Much to their surprise they found that despite their lack of natural light they enjoyed these night hours very much. When most of the humans were asleep they liked to just sit in the shop and soak in the calm and peace. Sometimes they found a few books to read, sometimes they didn't.

Tonight they just had made themselves a cuppity to look at ⁵ when the front door to the shop opened, which was strange considering that it was after two AM and Muriel had definitely locked it after Nina and Maggie had left for the evening. Bewildered they walked to the entrance of the shop and looked around. There was no one there.

No one on the street either except for a single car rolling slowly down the street.

„Hello?“ Muriel asked into the night.

Curiously the car did a sad little honk noise and after a few moments it came to a halt right in front of the shop. There was no one inside.

Muriel couldn't quite explain why but in that moment they felt very sad.

¹ Apparently by keeping it closed and under no circumstances they were to sell any books, ever. ↑

² Muriel didn't like it. It made them cry. ↑

³ Which, coincidentally is the actual lifespan of a common fruit fly, so in a way it was a life-time. ↑

⁴ Maggie had decided that Muriels knowledge of human music was lacking (as in non-existent) and had taken it upon herself to remedy that. This weeks lesson had been about 60's rock music. Muriel did not quite have an opinion on it yet. ↑

⁵ Muriel had not quite worked up enough courage to actually try to ingest human sustenance ↑

Chapter Text

„So I've been thinking,“

Crowley lifted on eyebrow.

„Don't give me that look, Crowley. Anyway, I've been thinking that since I already am on this stinky little planet we could do some stuff. And you can be my tourist guide!“ Lucifer announced this as if this was actually great news and Crowley should rejoice at this proclamation.

No, signed Crowley just to be ignored.

„In fact I already planned our first stop! There is this little country called Netherlands. They have something called the devils lettuce there! It's perfect! Isn't it perfect?!“

Absolutely not!

Lucifer had closed his eyes.

„So it's decided then! Awesome!“

You can't just pretend you can't see me when you feel like it!

„Au contraire, you'll find that I very much can, my dear Crowley,“ he had the absolute gall to actually fucking wink at him as if he hadn't just proven that he could see Crowleys answers perfectly well and proceeded to usher a very cranky and hungover demon to his car.

Crowley sighed. This was going to be a very long day.

Amsterdam was very loud. Crowley had almost forgotten how exhausting big cities could be.

I fucking hate you!

„I know, I know. Now what do you say, Cookies or Brownies? Or I guess we could go the old fashioned way? Though, I got to admit I think I already get quite enough of inhaling questionable fumes down under.“

Crowley glowered at Lucifer.

Lucifer stared back, unimpressed.

Fine! Cookies. And a J for me. 

Satan grinned and punched Crowley in the shoulder.

„That's the spirit!“ 

Lucifer, Crowley found was way to happy. It was very annoying.

About five hours later a demon and the devil were lounging on the riverside of the Amstel.

Chiquitita was playing from Lucifers shitty phone speakers.

Crowley, as he did so often, stared up into the stars while Lucifer monologued about some thing or the other. He wasn't really listening.

The vastness of space was... a thing. Very big. Incomprehensible, almost.

Lucifer had been right, he was proud of his work. It was the only worthwhile thing he had done. Ever.

He took another drag. The glow of the burning weed was very pleasing against the darkness of the sky. Beautiful even.

A plane flew by.

Remarkable thing, that. Humans could be so clever if they put their mind to it. Resourceful little buggers.

Just decided they wanted to fly and -Boom. Plane invented.

He exhaled. He liked the way the thick smoke wobbled away. 

Crowley wondered if he could do a smoke ring.

Or a boat like that old wizard in that movie. 

He tried for a while but unfortunately it turned out to make forms out of smoke was way harder than it looked. Who would have known?

There was a satellite on the night sky. Amazing.

He wondered if Lucifer also thought satellites were amazing.

He tuned around to ask him just to find Lucifer still talking. He seemed very agitated.

„... then that means that even after everything that happened I still only do what She wants me to. And how fucked up is that? Crowley are you even listening to me?“

Crowley just stared up at Lucifer, stunned. He just had an epiphany.

I remember now, he signed.

„What?“

I remember why I liked you.

Lucifer was very quiet for a moment and then he began to chuckle. Soon the chuckle became a full on belly deep laugh.

Crowley didn't even know what was so funny but he found himself grinning. And then he was laughing, too.

He laughed until he had tears in his eyes. He laughed until it became painful to breathe and one by one every laugh turned into a sob.

He didn't even register how Lucifer awkwardly patted his shoulders as he wept.

It took hours until the tears stopped flowing and even longer for the dry hiccups to stop. In the early morning hours Crowley passed out.

„I remember it, too,“ Lucifer said to no one.

Chapter Text

Heaven, despite being always perfectly temperature regulated to a sensible twenty-two degrees Celsius ¹, was too cold.

Too cold, too clean, too... too empty. It was terrible.

Aziraphale longed for his old clothes, his bookshop and his music.

More than anything and most of all he longed for his demon.

Aziraphale always thought he knew heartbreak. He felt it before time when so many of his siblings fell, felt it on the arch, he felt it each time when humanity showed it's worst side and he felt it when he realized just how uncaring heaven was.

He thought he had felt his heart break in the house of Job's children when he thought, if only for single moment, that Crowley was a heartless killer and then again years and years after when he thought that Crowley wanted to enlist him of all people to help him in ending his own life.

Aziraphale really thought he knew about heartbreak, but nothing, not a single thing in his entire existence could compare to the sheer pain he had felt ever since Crowleys and his disastrous last conversation ².

There was a gaping hole in his chest. And hurt so bad.

Aziraphale was so sure that for once he was doing what he was actually supposed to do. That he was doing the right thing.

He believed - he had to believe he was doing the right thing. Because if he didn't... If he was wrong... Aziraphale had lost –no, had thrown away– everything that mattered to him for nothing. And he wasn't sure how he would be able to survive that knowledge.

He could just pray that he'd actually be able to make a change now. For Earth. For Crowley.

Even if he had to do it alone.

Aziraphale sighed and got off his chair. He'd done quite enough paperwork for now.

He decided it was finally time to check in with Muriel ³. Besides actually having been neck deep in paperwork and thus truly not having the time to call, Aziraphale had also tried to not seem overbearing to poor Muriel, who no doubt did a wonderful job down in the bookshop.

Still, it had been a few days and even with the short manual he had written they were bound to have some questions.

Aziraphale swallowed his sudden nerves and called on the sigil.

Just a few moments later Muriels happy face came into view.

„'Ello, Mr. Aziraphale, sir!“

„Just Aziraphale is fine, Muriel,“ he couldn't help to smile back at their enthusiasm.

„How have you been?“

„Oh, just splendid! Earth is wonderful!“

„That is very good to hear, my dear. I hope you've had a chance to explore outside of the bookshop a bit. Earth truly is a beautiful place and I wouldn't want you to stay holed up in the shop the whole time you are there.“

„Oh yes I have! Nina and Maggie, the two humans in love if you remember, have been showing me lots of things all around the city! I've already been in other shops and even bought flowers and clothes with human money! And we went to the cinema once, I didn't like that so much, though. But I actually drank a Cup Of Tea last week and I was just fine after. And Maggie's been teaching me all about music. I even have a favorite band now. A few days ago we want to the park and I got to pet a dog! And of course I've been reading a lot of books. And not selling them!“

This- It seemed that Muriel had gotten up to quite a lot in such a short time... An unsettling idea formed in Aziraphales mind.

„Muriel, can you tell me how long has it been since I left?“

„Oh- um, it's been about seventy-three days, three hours and... I'd say forty-six minutes. Give or take a few seconds.“

Seventy-three?! He could have sworn he hadn't been back here for more than a week, at most ten days!

His shock must have shown on his face, because Muriel first looked rather puzzled before understanding dawned on their face.

„Oh! Time is different, isn't it? I thought so, too! Don't worry Mr. Aziraphale, sir, I'm sure you'll get used to it!“

„I-,“ Aziraphale swallowed and forced a smile,

„You are quite right of course. I'm sure I will.“

Muriel smiled brightly.

Aziraphale paused for a moment arguing with himself. But he just had to ask. He couldn't not.

„Say, you didn't happen to see or hear of Crowley by any chance?“

„Oh, no! He drove off after you left! Haven't seen 'im since... Is everything alright?“

„O- Of course. Yes, quite alright my dear.“

There was an awkward pause.

„Alright, well if there's nothing else...“

„Um...“

„Is there anything else, Muriel?“

„Well there is one thing... What am I supposed to do about suffering objects? It's just- there was nothing about objects in the manual you send down, just humans and animals, and nothing I do seems to work...,“ they trailed off, looking ashamed.

„I'm sorry, suffering objects? Whatever do you mean?“

„Um, like, things? There's the bookshop for one. It doesn't seem happy at all, but I mean that's understandable with you and Mr. Crowley gone and all. I'm sure it will come around. But then there's also the automobile. That one is really... sad? But more? It's really distracting to be honest?“

„Automobile?“ Aziraphale asked, his throat was suddenly very dry. „What Automobile?“

„Well, I don't know much about these kind of things. It's... black, mostly? Last Sunday it was yellow for a while. And there are a lot of dead plants on the back seat.“

Aziraphale felt his blood running cold. There was only one car Muriel could possibly be describing right now.

„Where...?“

„Oh, right in front of the shop, Mr.Aziraphale, sir! It parked here a few weeks ago.“

„But you said Crowley had not been at the shop at all since I've been gone?“

„Oh no he wasn't!“

„Muriel, did you see who drove the Bentley?“ Aziraphale tried very hard not to panic.

„Um, what's a Bentley?“

„The car, Muriel! Who was in it? On the front seat?“

„Oh, no one. It just drove here on it's own. Do you think it's lonely because no one would drive it?“

Silence, then:

„Right. I'm coming down.“

¹ or, for any american readers, seventy-one point six degrees Fahrenheit ↑

² Since the kiss. ↑

³ And maybe, just maybe, hopefully,Crowley. ↑

Chapter Text

While the elevator ride UP had felt excruciatingly slow at the time that was nothing compared to the just tortuously sluggish pace it displayed now. Aziraphale could have kicked himself for not simply using the stairs instead. He was pretty sure he could have made his way to earth at least three times in the same time frame. ¹

Still, it wouldn't do to trash this thrice-damned tin box like a caged animal. He willed himself to calm down while his thoughts did somersaults in his head.

After all there was absolutely need to panic.

This wasn't the first time Crowley had taken off after a fight and it surely wouldn't be the last ².

The demon just was a drama queen, that was all. Surely he just holed himself somewhere to sulk and maybe sleep.

Yes, there was a perfectly good reason why the Bentley would turn up at the bookshop sans her driver. And also apparently with all of said owners beloved plants still inside. Plants that had died because no one had been taken care of them in over two months.

Right. No need to panic at all.

Except... Except that Crowley was many things but he had never, not once in all the time Aziraphale had known him, been neglectful to those under his care.

It seemed to take hours before the elevator finally opened it's doors ³ and let him out onto the street.

Instantly he was overwhelmed with a wave of feelings. Nostalgia, longing and grief hit him in the face as if he'd walked right into a brick wall.

He had to blink a few time to adjust to them but then he zeroed in on the Bentley across the street. There she was, parked right in front of the bookshop just like Muriel had said.

As he got closer he noticed that there was an air of despair that was not his own all around the car.

He approached her slowly and let his hand brush against her hood. It came back dirty.

He never had seen the Bentley in anything but pristine condition ⁴. Neither she nor Crowley would have tolerated her getting soiled by such things as common dirt, it would either just slide right off or get vaporized.

„Hello, my dear.“

There was a click as the door of the car opened the tiniest bit.

„Thank you, my dear,“ Aziraphale whispered and opened it fully to take a peak inside. He took in the dried up remains of all the luscious plants in the back. The floor was littered with shriveled leaves. Not one of them rustled to greet him.

He got into the car, hoping he would find anything that would tell him where Crowley was.

There was nothing – no map in the glove box, no hidden message on the dashboard, no Clue hidden under the seat. He even tried the radio but it wouldn't turn on.

Aziraphale felt very, very cold.

„What ever happened to you?“ His voice was barely audible.

The only answer he got was the tiniest, saddest honk.

For a bit he couldn't do anything but to sit there on the drivers seat and pet the steering wheel while he tried to come up with a reasonable explanation. After a while he sighed and gave the Bentley one last pat before getting out.

„Don't you worry, I'm sure we will figure this all out.“

On the few steps to the bookshop door he had already formed a foolproof plan.

First things first, he needed to talk with Muriel. Maybe they had any other information. Then he would take thei- the car and look for Crowley. He would find him and they could take this chance to clear up their silly misunderstanding and then Aziraphale could return to heaven and finally take care of all that Second Coming mess.

Easy-peasy.

Except step one was already harder than anticipated. As in that when he wanted to enter the shop the front door did not open up for him automatically as it usually did and when he tried the handle he had to find out that it was glowing hot to the touch.

„OW!“ he exclaimed waving his burned hand in front of his body.

„What in god's name...?“

Just then Muriel peaked out of the shop window and spotted him.

They waved.

„Hello, Muriel,“ he called, hoping they could hear him trough the window.

„Hello, Mr. Aziraphale, sir!“

„I told you, there is no need to – you know what, never mind. Could you be a dear and open the door for me?“

„At once!“ They actually saluted. Dear god.

Aziraphale watched them walk over to the door and reach out to touch it when he remembered he hadn't warned them about the handle.

„Oh! Watch out it might be-“

They were already trying the door even jolting a bit in an effort to open it.

„...Hot.“

„Huh?“ Muriel asked. „Why would it be hot?“

„...When I tried just now I burned my hand,“ he held the hand in question up to show them the red palm.

"That's strange! It never did that to me! But then it hasn't locked me in or out before..."

„Do you have any idea why the bookshop won't open, Muriel?“

They seemed just as puzzled as he felt until their face suddenly transformed into the universal expression of a metaphorical light bulb lighting up over their head.

„I think- I think it might be, um... angry? With you?“ They looked very uncomfortable at that.

„It... what?“ Aziraphale was absolutely flabbergasted. This he had not anticipated.

„Why would a bookshop – my bookshop be angry with me?“

„Well um... I mean I don't know... but if I, well if I had to guess... probablybecauseyouabondonedit?“

„I'm sorry?“

„I mean, I know that you didn't have a choice with what being Supreme Archangel and no doubt doing the right thing and god's work and I completely understand that you can't stay on earth! I just think it may... feel like that? With you leaving so suddenly?“

„That is-“ Aziraphale wanted to say ridiculous. This was a building they were talking about. A building he had spend a lot of time in and loved dearly but a building nonetheless. The thought that the shop was angry was crazy! But then he thought of the sorrow emanating from the Bentley.

He turned to the bookshop.

„I... This is... Are you angry with me?“ he asked the bookshop, feeling very foolish.

The windows rattled and the lights inside flickered.

„Guess that is a 'yes', then.“

He cleared his throat.

„Well, I am very sorry for leaving you behind. It's just... I had to take this opportunity, you've got to understand. I wish I could've stayed. Believe me I wanted nothing more... But I needed- I still need to... to do the right thing. I just... Just, please let me in?“

When nothing happened he sighted and reached for the handle again, more careful this time around.

It was still very much locked but at least not smoldering anymore. Small mercies and all that.

Aziraphale was unsure how to proceed and turned to look helplessly at Muriel for guidance.

They just shrugged.

There was nothing to it then. He guessed he just had to do it right here, out on the street, in front of Muriel.

For a building.

Cue the music then... „You were right. You were right. I was wrong. You were right.“

Aziraphale could hear Muriel trying to suppress their laughter. They failed rather terribly.

But at long last and very reluctantly the door finally opened.

„Thank you.“

¹ Aziraphale, with the right motivation could be very fast indeed. And in the moment he did not lack in the motivation department. ↑

² He absolutely refused to acknowledge even the possibility that this somehow could have been their last fight. ↑

³ Again, excruciatingly slow. If he hadn't known better Aziraphale would have said they were doing it on purpose just to agitate him even further. ↑

⁴ Safe for the time she had completely burned down, of course just before the last Armageddon scare. ↑

Chapter Text

The door closed behind Aziraphale rather forcefully almost hitting him in his back with a loud bang. It seemed like the shop had not forgiven him completely, yet.

He looked around, taking everything in.

Inside, he was glad to note, nothing had changed in the course of the last seventy-three days (except for the temperature which was a tad colder somehow despite the thermostat -that Crowley had miracled into existence so many years ago- showing the same number it always did.¹ ).

Aziraphale let a deep breath out, one he hadn't even known he was holding for quite a while now.

It was so good to be home.

For a very short while Aziraphale felt lighter then he had in a long time - And then the memories flooded back in.

Here, he had been standing the last time he had been here.

Here, he had begged for Crowley to come with him to heaven.

Here, he had watched Crowley leave him.

Here, Crowley had grabbed him by his collar and... (And he could feel the phantom bruise on his lips.)

Here, Aziraphale had broken both of their hearts with one stupid sentence.

„Would you mind terribly to bring me a cup of tea, my dear?“ Somehow, miraculously his voice didn't break. He prayed that Muriel would take the bait. He really needed a minute ² to gather himself.

„Of course, right on it!“ Ever so eager to help, they rushed up the stairs.

As soon as they were out of sight he could feel himself falling apart.

He sunk onto what used to be their chair and buried his head in his hands. His whole body was shaking with racking sobs. The realization hit him like a freight train. Dear god, he had screwed up. He had screwed up so badly.

A floorboard in the back lifted up a bit and tilted the desk in his direction so that box of tissues (that he could've sworn hadn't been there two months ago ³ ) slid up to him.

„Thank you, my dear,“ Aziraphale said to the bookshop.

„And... You do know I am terribly sorry, do you? I-,“ he sniffled again.

„I think I made a terrible mistake.“

The shop creaked a bit and he could feel the air getting a bit warmer around him. ⁴ He tried for a smile but couldn't help a new wave of tears spilling from his eyes.

On the top of the stairs Muriel stood with a steaming cup in their hand and some stray tears of their own on their cheek. Even if they didn't really know what was going on, they just couldn't help it. It was... It wasn't right for Aziraphale to be so distraught. But as much as they wanted to rush down to console him something told them it was better to wait another few minutes before disturbing him. ⁵

In the end it took almost two hours until Aziraphale's tears had finally run out and Muriel decided to go back down to him. He took the tea (that would have gone long cold if it hadn't been for a very small miracle from them) and sighed.

„Thank you for the tea, my dear. And for... giving me some space just now.“

Muriel smiled brightly at the praise. They had listened to their feeling and it had been the right thing to do! They couldn't wait to tell Nina and Maggie, they would be so proud!

After a few sips Aziraphale felt a bit better.

„Actually, would you terribly mind... That is... I wanted to ask if you have in all the time since I went to heaven seen or felt anything that could lead me to Crowley? Any bouts of demonic activity? Sightings of huge snakes, maybe? Or... the- the Google not working anymore? Anything at all could be useful.“

Muriel pondered over the question a bit.

„I can't remember anything of that sort,“ they finally decided.

„Oh.“

„Sorry.“ they sounded truly apologetic.

Aziraphale sighed defeated.

„Don't be. I just... I had really hoped you somehow had any information on how to find him, you know? Not that this is your fault of course! I just... I don't really know where to start looking.“

„Well, how did you find each other before?“

„We kind of... just stumbled onto each other by coincidence mostly...“

...Except, Except, they didn't, did they? Crowley had turned up for Aziraphale so many times when things had went sideways. He had always appeared in the right moment. There was no way in h-somewhere that any of Crowley's rescues had been coincidence. Aziraphale just never asked him how he did it. Why did he never ask him how he did it? How did he do it? Was there some link he followed? Something he could follow in return?

He asked as much out loud, more to himself then anything but Muriel actually looked thoughtful.

„Maybe you could try meditation? Maggie told me that's how some people find things inside of themselves.“

Meditation. Right. Well, it was worth a try, wasn't it?

In theory he knew how it worked, at least.

He closed his eyes and breathed in. Breathed out. Relaxed his muscles one by one.

Breathed in. Breathed out. Let himself calm down more and more.

Breathed in. Breathed out. Let his mind drift.

Breathe in.

Breathed out.

He reached for his connection for Crowley inside of him and - Oh!

Oh god! They were magnificent!

There was a beacon of golden and red colors intermixing with each other inside of him. Aziraphale had never seen anything ⁶ as alluring. Nor had he ever felt anything being more powerful since his very creation when he had felt god's very presence within him.

Dear Lord. Of course their miracle had been a beacon of power even with all of the effort to put as little of their energy into it as possible.

They were two nuclei fusing together in an explosion. They were a star burning bright. They were one.

And they were oh so beautiful together.

Aziraphale couldn't look away. I got lost in the feeling of love. Of completion.

In the shop Aziraphale's wings materialized and his eyes were wide open and glowing bright gold.

Muriel was struck by the need to fall to their knees and close their eyes at the sight. It was not that they had ever really questioned the Metatron's decision to make Aziraphale the Supreme Archangel but only in this moment they could truly understand the scope of his profound greatness and grace. It was overwhelming to watch.

Inside, Aziraphale struggled to remember his purpose. He was drowning in a sea of infinite beauty and glory that was the union of these two essences. It was so wast. So wonderful. This was what they were always meant to be..

They. He and Crowley.

Crowley.

Aziraphale had to find Crowley.

It took all of his willpower but finally he was able to tear himself away and instead concentrate on only Crowley's part of their connection. He could feel the tendrils of his consciousness stretching wide and wider all around the earth.

He was everywhere and everything. He felt every rock and every tree, every building and every human. He could feel himself encompassing the whole planet.

Every cell within him tuned to find that red energy anywhere, looking for a threat of Crowley-

Aziraphale, with a sudden shock returned back into his corporeal form. He looked down at a very distressed looking Muriel and choked out:

„He isn't there.“

It was already late morning when Aziraphale finally left the bookshop. His eyes were red and puffy and he struggled not to be completely overtaken by terror.

He just... had to start searching and maybe, hopefully he would find any clues to Crowley's whereabouts. There had to be something, somewhere.

He was just about to get into the Bentley when a very angry voice sounded through the street.

„You!“

He looked up to find a very angry looking Nina marching up to him. He sighed.

„Hello Nina.“

„Don't you Hello Nina me! You have some nerve to turn up now!“

„I-“

„First you fuck off to god knows where and completely shatter your partners heart, after meddling with our love life mind! And then you send this-this child down without any guidance or help and we have to pick up the pieces?“

„Ni-“

„You fucked up big time! Do you have any idea what-“

„Nina! Believe me, I know! I know perfectly well that I 'fucked' up! I know I ruined everything! I never meant for any of this to happen the way it did! I thought... I thought he would come with me. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it had only been a week sine I've been gone. I thought... I thought a lot of things. But I was a damned fool and I was wrong! I know!“

Aziraphale was breathing heavely.

„So unless you have any idea how I can find Crowley, please step away from the car and let me try to fix it.“

Nina was apparently taken aback by his outburst. In a much quieter voice she finally asked,

„You don't know where he is?“

„No he... I can't feel him anywhere, Nina,“ he couldn't help his voice cracking at the admission.

„Oh.“

Yes. Oh.

„Please, just... step aside.“

Nina did without another word and with one last, almost pitying glance at him she turned around and headed back into the coffee shop.

Aziraphale sighed again and finally opened the door and got into the Bentley. Though not happy per se she seemed to have cheered up quite a bit since yesterday he was glad to find.

„Good morning, my dear.“

A little tin with ginger candies appeared. Helpless to do anything else he could do nothing but to smile at her.

„Thank you, my dear. I believe I rather owe you an apology as well, don't I? I am very sorry that I left, my dear. And even more so that my parting led to Crowley... Crowley's disappearance,“ he sniffled a bit.

„I am so very sorry.“

The Bentley's radio turned on and Freddie Mercury's voice sounded quietly in the car. Aziraphale listened to the chorus of friends will be friends ⁷ and couldn't help but to cry again. It sounded like forgiveness. He swore that someday he would earn it.

A sudden knock on the car window made him jump. It seemed like Nina had come back, though she looked a bit less cold then before. More conflicted that anything, really. He rolled the window down, hoping she hadn't come back just to scold him some more.

„I just remembered something. Your... Crowley he can do some weather shit, can't he?“

He nodded.

„Well the day you left there was a really big storm. Like record-breaking big and apparently completely inexplicable. It was in the news and everything...“

Hope rose in Aziraphale for the first time in... he didn't even know how long.

„Where?“

„Somewhere in Essex. Coastline. I think it was some nature reserve or something.“

„Oh, Nina that is very helpful! Thank you!“

„No problem. And Aziraphale... When you find him... Please just...“ she looked as if she was fighting with herself, „Talk to him. Really talk.“

„I will. Thank you, Nina“

As he drove away he could hear her shouting after him.

„You guys better have your shit figured out the next time I see you!“

Without any need for someone to scold him for driving too slow Aziraphale and Bentley sped off.

There was a Clue waiting for him in Essex, he could feel it.

¹ While the bookshop wasn't hot with anger anymore it had now settled on giving Aziraphale the quite literal cold shoulder. It may have accepted the apology dance for now but it certainly wasn't as easy to forgive and forget as the Bentley was. (Not that it blamed her, she was still rather child-like. Which actually just fed even more into it's anger that both Aziraphale and Crowley had abandoned them and thus hurt it's baby sister. They would have a lot of groveling to do.) ↑

² Or ten. Or maybe a few days. ↑

³ It hadn't been. Muriel had stationed them there for when they got a bit teary reading romance novels. ↑

⁴ Because even when it was angry it still had compassion. It was Aziraphale's after all. ↑

⁵ That something was tact. A concept that angels, as a whole, had a rather lacking understanding of normally. ↑

⁶ Metaphysically or otherwise ↑

⁷ For those who aren't as well versed in Queen songs and/or are to lazy to google here are the lyrics in question:

Friends will be friends
When you're in need of love they give you care and attention
Friends will be friends
When you're through with life and all hope is lost
Hold out your hand 'cause friends will be friends
Right till the end

↑

Chapter Text

Crowley hadn't had the faintest as to where he was, how he got here or who those people with him where, except for Lucifer of course (and since when did the bugger actually tolerate humans?). ¹

What he did know was that the Mau Son was very strong and that Lucifer currently was standing on a miniature stage with a thirty-something old Vietnamese guy bellowing the butched up lyrics of Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! into a purple microphone while the rest of the group was laughing and cheering along. One of the guys even had his phone out to film the whole ordeal.

If he didn't actively avoid any thoughts in that direction, Crowley would have seriously questioned all of his life choices that had led him here.

But as it was he was very drunk and it was kind of funny. He leaned back on the bench and let himself enjoy the show.

It was well into the morning hours when they got finally kicked out. Their companions for the night had left hours ago citing their early work hours ².

They stumbled their way through Hanoi. Crowley had resigned to his fate and given up on trying to shake Lucifer's arm off his shoulder a while ago, which only made their already uncoordinated walk much worse. They had almost toppled over five times already. But Lucifer was laughing and humming drunkenly into his ear and even though he would never admit it, it felt kind of nice to have someone to be actually happy around him. Maybe one of these times the feeling would transfer to him. Osmosis or something.

A child bumped into them. Crowley would have had to be a lot more drunk ³ to fall for that. The bump'n'steal may not have been one of his own ideas but Crowley had spend decades on learning, perfecting and then teaching the skill to others. He caught the kid by their wrist and took his wallet back out of the straying hand. And, just to put the fear of god into them, he let his sunglasses slip a bit and scowled.

Instantly they turned white as a sheet. Crowley knew that would be the last time they would try to steal. (Especially since their sick mother would actually get miraculously better and their father would suddenly find a new, very well paying job withing the next few days.)

Lucifer leaned away and pointed his finger at his chest. He looked furious.

„What the hell was that, Crowley?“

What?

„Did you just bless that human?!“

Ah. That.

Right. This was Satan. Crowley just had... kind of forgotten somehow.

Yes, he signed. No reason to lie.

„You are a... a disgrace of a demon!“ Lucifer spat.

That was certainly nothing he hadn't heard before. Being a disgrace of a demon was like Crowley's whole deal. Something of a point of pride for him, really.

Still, the realization that this was it kind of stung anyhow. Rejected yet again for being himself.

Well, it had been fun while it lasted Crowley supposed.

But he wouldn't grovel or even apologize. He hadn't changed who he was for Az- for him and he sure as hell wouldn't start to do so now.

Fuck you, I'm retired.

They glared at each other for what seemed like the longest staring contest in history.

Finally, Lucifer lifted his hands into the air like an exasperated angry housewife.

„Well, I guess!“

And... and that was it. Lucifer just put his arm back over Crowley's shoulder and just continued to walk in the direction of their hotel. Only minutes later he was even whistling as if... as if this had been honestly just banter between them. As if they weren't the wrathful king of hell and a demon who had defied him again and again. There wasn't even any storming off and ignoring each other for decades.

What the fuck was going on?

At first Crowley thought he'd just ignore the question and in time forget about the whole ordeal just like Lucifer apparently did. He'd meant to just let it go and resume their drinking and enduring Lucifer's shenanigans like before and wait it out until the second shoe would drop. After all, what good would come out of questioning the seemingly so easy resolved conflict between them now? Nothing, that's what.

But the thing with Crowley is, and always has been, his inability to just leave good enough alone. Just like so many times before there was a question in his mind and it would not leave until it had found an answer. Ignoring it would only make it burn and nag and grow until there was nothing else left but the drive for solutions. It was this need that had made him fall so long ago and even then, even in the wake of all the catastrophic losses it had brought upon his life, this need, this demand to know never went away.

So in the end Crowley lasted all of two days before he brought it up again.

They were currently in a Balenciaga store in Milan, because as it turned out Lucifer was absolutely obsessed with fashion ⁴, especially the ridiculously overpriced kind.
Right now he was on an absurdly giddy rant about how outrageously ugly some of the shoes in the store were while completely ignoring the angry looks of sales persons and other customers alike.

„Look at these!“ Lucifer was laughing so hard there were actual tears streaming down his face and held up some absolute abomination of a shoe that looked as if someone had just hot-glued some very cheap plastic heels onto some hot pink toe shoes.

„This is...,“ he had to pause to giggle,

„13 hundred euros!“ Lucifer doubled over.

Someone behind them cleared their throat rather obnoxiously.

„Excuse me, gentlemen. Is there anything I can help you with?“ The shop assistant had a very forced fake smile plastered on her face that indicated that they were about to be booted out of the store.

„No. Fuck off“ Lucifer waved his hand and promptly her eyes glazed over and she turned around to walk away.

„Now, these bad boys are something,“ as if nothing had happened he picked up a rather glittery high heel with a large golden buckle in the front and studied it with genuine interest.

„But nine hundred euros... Who makes these prices?“ 

That was actually one of my ideas.

„This?“

Well not this one especially, but you know... the whole concept of outrageously overpricing clothes just for some stupid name tag. Took barely anything at all to talk good old Hermes into the idea of 'luxury branding' as it were. Vuitton was even easier. The rest did it all by themselves.

Lucifer looked positively elated for a second before he was honest to go-someone squealing in delight and hugging Crowley.

„I always knew you were my favorite! This is marvelous!“

I thought I was a disgrace of a demon?

„Aww, you're not still angry about that, are you?“

Well no, but... Lucifer why aren't you ? Since when are you all forgiving and accepting?

At that Lucifer actually turned serious and studied Crowley's face for a few seconds before answering.

„I am not forgiving, Crowley. If you had been any demon under my control I would have dragged you back to hell and tortured you until every last ounce of goodness left the remnants of your broken mind. And then I would continue on torturing you for my own amusement, until I tired of your screams and after that would force you to do the same to the undeserving souls of the very humans you so obviously care for.“

Crowley had to try very hard not to shiver.

„But in the end, it is as you said. You are retired. I knew that. I also knew that you have always toed the fine line of what you still thought was moral while still securing more souls for hell than any other demon combined. Most of your ideas and inventions will continue on reaping them for our side for decades to come."

"I guess what I'm saying is that I know who you are and have known for a very long time, Crowley. I have tolerated your behavior because you got results. And now that you are not under my jurisdiction anymore I don't have to give a shit anymore about how you go about things. It was stupid to get angry. After all I was the one who chose to hang out with you.“

There was a long pause while Crowley struggled to comprehend what he'd just heard.

Because it had sounded like acceptance. A very fucked up version of of it, but acceptance nonetheless.

Lucifer, the Morningstar, Satan himself, Father of Lies, Ruler of Hell, the fucking Beast himself actually accepted Crowley more than Azir-, than he ever had.

And it hurt. It hurt a lot.

You know, Crowley finally signed,

I did have a pair just like these. He nodded at the glittery pump Lucifer still held in his hand.

„You did?“

Yes, in my time as Nanny Ashtoreth.

Lucifer let his eyes trail along Crowley's legs. He looked... disturbingly intrigued at this information.

„Is that so...?“

Crowley just nodded. He felt a bit awkward now. Maybe this hadn't been the best way to change the topic, after all.

„Did you like them?“

Well, yes

„Well then...“ Lucifer's mouth stretched into a very ominous looking grin and his eyes sparkled with mischief, while he slowly picked up the second shoe of the pair. He discretely looked at the salespeople (currently all of them were busy with other costumers) and the security guard (miraculously attacked by a bee just now). Crowley got a single wink as a warning before Lucifer yelled: „RUN!“

¹ The answer to these questions was, in numerical order:

1. a karaoke bar in the middle of Hanoi

2. first a twelve hour plane flight (the whole of which Crowley had slept through while Lucifer had managed to annoy every single one of the three hundred passengers on board by terrorizing them with drunken renditions of ABBA's Best Of)
   and then they had taken a taxi

3. a group of Vietnamese business men that Lucifer had talked into drinking with them some hours (and bars) ago

and, lastly

4. Lucifer would have told you he didn't, at all, find anyone tolerable and he hated all humans and just wanted to lead them into temptation and eat their souls. The reality was that he was actually just as drunk as Crowley and had simply found them funny.

↑

² None of them would actually make it to work this morning. All of them suffered through the closest thing to actual hell they would experience while still on earth in the form of very bad hangovers. ↑

³ or possibly dead ↑

⁴ Lucifer had just learned about unethical working conditions in the fashion industry and he was in awe. Sweat shops were so evil even he wouldn't have ever come up with something like it. ↑

Chapter Text

This little vacation of his had turned out to be a lot more fun than Lucifer would have thought.

Torturing the sinner's souls was nice and all, yes, but there was a different kind of delight in the finesse that was needed to just subtly fuck around with humans, sinning or no. Something Crowley himself had always reveled in he knew.

So, despite the ugly (and frankly reeking) little holding cell he currently found himself in, Lucifer had the time of his life watching the Italian police desperately try to file for a robbery case when the stolen goods in question weren't to be found anywhere and no one remembered the crime even happening right after reporting it because somehow all of the eye witnesses of their little coup had developed a bout of spontaneous amnesia. Lucifer couldn't wait for the reaction when they would finally review the security footage (it would show a twelve hour loop of the music video from ABBA's Money, Money, Money from 1982).

Giddy, he turned to Crowley who was sitting beside him on the metal bench. But instead of reveling in the chaos and mischief like Lucifer had hoped the demon looked rather put out by everything. Which, in and of itself wasn't anything new but still a bit disappointing.

After getting chased down by the police Crowley had asked Lucifer to miracle them away, which he had happily declined because this was fun. Capital F Fun. Funny even. Unfortunately it seemed like Crowley's opinion differed to his. And now he had turned to childishly ignoring him.

Which was just not on. After all he had nicked the pumps just for him. ¹

Also, if Crowley truly didn't want to be here, the demon was perfectly capable to miracle himself away. ²

Which pointed to the only possible conclusion that Crowley was just pretending to be sulking and very much wanted to be here. Which meant he wanted Lucifer to „cheer“ him „up“. Honestly, what a drama queen.

„What do you think about going to Greece after this?“

He got no answer. He didn't even turn to look at him.

„We could drink Ouzo and watch Mama Mia.“

„Crowley.“

Still nothing.

„Crowley.“

„Crowley.“

…

„Crowley!“

Being ignored was not fun Lucifer decided.

„Crowley.“

Aha, there was an eye twitch behind the sunglasses.

I'm not talking to you.

„Aww, don't be like that!“

Crowley chose to continue to be like that.

Lucifer, showing unprecedented patience managed not to rip his throat out and just pouted.

„Crowley?“

…

„Crooowleeyyy.“

„Raphael!“ The word had not even fully left Lucifer's mouth and he already knew he had tread onto a landmine.

Crowley turned to him and even trough the sunglasses Lucifer could see how small his pupils had gotten. The slits practically leaked with venom. Crowley's whole body radiated coldness, dropping the temperature in the cell several degrees within seconds.

Do NOT call me that.

Shadows sprouted from the demon coiling and striking like huge black snakes. They grew further and further along the floor and walls.

„Wh-“

I am not Him.

„Well,-“

I am not an angel.

„I know, Crowley!“

There was some black goo forming at the demons feet. The concrete floor began to sizzle.

I am not!

I am not a fucking angel!

By now the whole cell was pitch black, parts of the ground were poodles of bubbling tar and there were ice crystals forming on every surface.

Do NEVER call me that again.

Longingly, Lucifer took one last look at the police officer (who still hadn't watched the security footage) and turned back to Crowley who had started shaking by now and stared into the great nothing. He was still leaking. Leave it to him to spoil all the fun with a demonic breakdown just over an old name.

He sighed and snapped his fingers.

It was several hours and bottles of Ouzo later in a nice sea side hotel on Rhodes when Lucifer finally deemed it save to get into another conversation.

„Sooo... this Nanny Ashoreth...,“ he started.

Crowley who currently lied face down in the hotel bed groaned into the pillow.

„Can I meet her?“

No she is, he did a wavy motion with his hand, past.

Ah, yet another thing that belonged to the angel it seemed. Lucifer suppressed a annoyed sigh knowing it would not help his cause.

When he'd first started his earthly vacation Lucifer had been perfectly aware that Crowley's ...friend had done some damage to his favorite demon but honestly he hadn't wasted any thought about the angel beyond that. After all he hated all of heaven and the angels equally ³ anyway, so he'd just mentally filed him right to the rest of the whole self-righteous garbage lot.

But over the course of the past few months though Crowley's ex companion had descended into depths of hatred and annoyance in his mind that rivaled only the place God herself inhabited. ⁴

Which was weird because this whole thing wasn't even Lucifer's problem. Break-up. Whatever.

And still it somehow felt like a personal slight to him specifically that someone else would hurt Crowley who was decidedly his to torture. Lucifer didn't care for it.

Still, better not to breach the topic just now, he wasn't in the mood for yet another break down yet.

„No Nanny then.“

Crowley nodded into the stiff hotel pillow.

Lucifer contemplated for a few seconds.

„But another Lady perhaps?“

Now Crowley turned his head to shoot him a suspicious look.

Why?

He seemed genuinely puzzled.

„Well, for one I'm curious, and also...,“ he couldn't help but to grin a bit,

„I kinda need a wife for this.“

Proudly he presented a brochure for a Conservative Christians couples retreat he had picked up a few weeks ago in Texas.

His only answer was a loud groan from the pillow.

Which was not a no.

A week later Lucifer boarded a cruise ship with his new wife hanging from his arm. They hadn't even started yet, and he could already feel the envy and lust filled looks of at least six people in their vicinity.

It had taken days of well placed tempting ⁵ and persuading but the result was speaking for itself.

Crowley- no, Lilith, was a sight to behold. Lucifer had to hand it to her, she didn't half-ass anything. Lucifer didn't know where she had gotten the form-fitting red dress and the pearls from, considering Crowley didn't use any miracles anymore but damn she had chosen good. He was also pleased to note that the shiny pumps did wonders for Crowley's long legs. Perfect for their little stunt.

So tell me, what are we doing here?

She asked as soon as they were aboard.

„Causing mischief and wreaking havoc, my dear Lilith,“ Lucifer murmured into her ear while making eye contact with a constipated looking middle aged man a few meters away. The man's face flushed instantly and he turned back to his wife. Oh, this would be easy.

So you said. What exactly are you planning?

„Come on, we are on a cruise ship full of bigoted sexually repressed Americans with marital problems. Use your imagination.“

Crowley's mouth actually twitched into an almost grin as she looked into Lucifer's eyes.

Mischief and havoc, I see.

„I knew you'd get me.“

He paused for a moment and took another look around taking in some of the other guests.

„I'm also pretty sure there are some politicians here...“

Crowley did a little soundless cackle.

Always loved the Republicans. Any journalists?

„I guess we'll find out after this, my dear Lilith,“ Lucifer chuckled. Oh how he had missed this side of Crowley.

„Care for a little wager on how many each of us can get?“

What are the stakes?

„Bragging rights I guess?“

You are on.

As Lucifer and Crowley shook hands their wedding rings clanked against each other.

Time for some more fun.

¹ And, yes, maybe because he thought it was funny. ↑

² Lucifer had noticed the distinct lack of miracles done by Crowley (honestly it was hard not to). But he had checked everything and couldn't see why he wouldn't. There was plenty of demonic energy left in him and the power line to hell was wide open, too.

If he had to guess (and he had to guess, because asking Crowley about anything going on in his life was a minefield that Lucifer tried to avoid at all costs) it had probably something to do with that stupid angel of his, too. ↑

³ Alright, that wasn't strictly true, there was a special kind of hatred Lucifer held for Michael. What an asshole. ↑

⁴ Although that particular relationship, if you can call it that, was quite a lot more complicated with all that Her being his Mother who deserted and abandoned him for a couple of new shiny apes. And as much as Lucifer hated God he would never lose the deep ingrained wish to be loved and accepted by Her even if he would never ever admit to this.

(Such is the nature of childhood trauma but Lucifer was not likely to get into therapy within the foreseeable future so as far as he knew this special kind of suffering was his alone to bear and no one else could ever understand.) ↑

⁵ Not that Lucifer's obvious attempts of temptation had been in any way successful on Crowley, who was: one, the original tempter and as such not very impressionable by any kind of whispered promises of wealth and fortune, and, two not in the mood to be tempted.

What actually got Crowley to cave in at the end was a frustrated: „Well, it's not like you have anything better to do!“ ↑