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"I'm sorry." Aziraphale says. His head is tilted down, the weight of his actions — and realizations — rest heavy upon him.
He had tried to shift Heaven so it would be worthy of Crowley. Tried to change it into actual good, for even though he doesn't want to admit it, heaven was never really, truly good.
And maybe that should have been his first sign that he couldn't have fixed it the way he wanted to.
Crowley watches him. His glasses glint with the light. Aziraphale is too scared to look up at him, to see his expression. A sort of fear lingers under his corporation that somehow, if he looks at Crowley, he will not recognize the look on his face.
The silence lasts for so long, it feels. He may be older than the earth but for some reason, the seconds ticking by now feel like there's eons between them.
And then, "I forgive you."
"What?" Aziraphale's voice wavers. He looks up at Crowley out of pure confusion.
He blinks. He recognizes the look on Crowleys face and with that a bliss of relief floods him.
How could I ever had thought I'd forget his quirks? It's him.
Crowley tilts his head just slightly to the side. "I forgive you." He repeats, stepping closer. He slips his glasses off as well, tucking them in his shirt.
Aziraphale feels sick, "How?" He asks. "How can you forgive me?"
"Eh, 'cuz I can, yeah?" Crowley shrugs. Another step. "I'm still - eugh - I'm still upset at you. Mad, even. But I forgive you for the most part."
"I don't understand." Aziraphale admits. Though he still reaches for Crowley's hand when it's close enough to his grasp. He almost hesitates but then Crowley is reaching out himself and wrapping his fingers around Aziraphale's own.
He's tugged closer to Crowley and as he is, Crowley drops his head down on Aziraphale's shoulder. Warmth radiations from him and it's — it's so different from Heaven that tears form in his eyes in an instant. A shaky breath is taken and a firm arm is wrapped around a demon's waist.
They spend a moment longer to take each other in, realize that they are in front of one another again. Crowley's hands tighten around Aziraphale more than once. Aziraphale simply squeezes him back every time.
Crowley's throat rumbles when he clears it to talk again. Aziraphale finds he missed that noise — but is that shocking? When he has missed all of Crowley?
"I don't understand either, angel." He admits with a rasp.
Oh. Aziraphale thinks, with a harsh swallow. Oh, I missed him calling me angel.
"Aziraphale?" Crowley lifts his head, blinking owlishly — or perhaps, snakeishly? Or well, no. Snakes can't blink, can't they? — at the tears on Aziraphale's face. He reaches his free hand up and cups his cheek.
"Oh, no, please -" Aziraphale makes a strangled noise, leaning into the hand swiping at his tears. "Please call - um don't call me by my name." He can't bare to hear it after all the time he's spent in heaven. His own name makes him cringe after how he's heard it be said by other angels.
Crowley looks at him in a way that has Aziraphale choking on a sob. He fists his hands into Crowley's shirt and tugs him impossibly closer.
"You shouldn't forgive me." He says, then shakes his head, "You don't even know why I did it. I haven't even explained."
His next sob is muffled as Crowley tugs his head down to the demon's shoulder and let's go of his hand to pull him into a hug. He threads his fingers into Aziraphale's curls and lets out his own shaky breath.
Crowley clears his throat again and croaks out, "Maybe. But ngk, you're you, angel. I can't not forgive you er - even if I am upset at you."
"Oh." Aziraphale mutters back weakly. "I love you."
Then it's Crowley's turn to stutter out an, "Oh." Lamely.
"I'm sorry." Aziraphale continues. His hands are still fisted in Crowley's shirt. He's too scared to loosen his grasp.
There's a pause, then faintly, a kiss pressed to the side of his head. A shaky breath follows after it, "I know."
"I'm sorry." Aziraphale repeats anyways, because he feels like he needs to. "I tried, Crowley, oh I - you were right and I - I..."
"Sssh," Crowley shushes as gently as he can as a hiss takes over slightly. He holds Aziraphale tighter, and so Aziraphale does the same for him.
Aziraphale breathes in Crowley, Crowley breathes in Aziraphale. They hold each other like if they let go they'll lose each other and — well... It's almost true. Or it was. They don't plan on going anywhere without the other now.
Crowley shuts his eyes and squeezes Aziraphale closer to him. They'll be okay. Surely.