Chapter Text
Aziraphale took a hesitant step back into the elevator of The Dirty Donkey. That had been the twenty-sixth time he’d left Heaven to go back to the comfort of his bookshop. But like all the times before, he got too scared to enter or was caught by the Metatron. It had been eighty-nine days, four hours, thirty minutes, and… twenty-one seconds since he accepted the position of Supreme Archangel. All that time since that had happened. In the bookshop. With him.
He had tried not to dwell on the demon, which was easy because he’d been bombarded with assignments about the Second Coming. The angels kept him on his toes with work, and before he knew it, those three months had passed in a blur.
Aziraphale vetoed another request for an increased surveillance force on Earth, fearing that Crowley would be targeted. Of course, Aziraphale was still very upset at him for not accepting his proposal, but that doesn’t mean he wants Crowley dead (Or well, discorporated). After the change of leadership in Hell, the other Archangels had been particularly anxious about knowing every single thing they were up to (Which was strange to Aziraphale, since he assumed they had already been in contact).
He knew he made the right decision. Of course he did, he was an angel. He trusted in the Almighty’s decisions just as much as he trusted himself. Well, maybe a lot more. But, it was his job to have faith in Her, after all.
‘I am doing good ,’ he reassured himself, ‘ I’m not to blame if Crowley ends up a puddle of goo, well- because- I gave him the chance. And Heaven needs me now.’
It was what the Metatron said, so Aziraphale believed it. Gabriel was no longer there, and Aziraphale took that as a sign to come back and change the system. Crowley had the chance to be a part of that, to be good again.
‘ Oh, bugger ’ He thought and shook his head to clear his thoughts of Crowley.
–
It was another six nights until Aziraphale went back to Earth. ‘ Just to check on the shop’ , he convinced himself, ‘ Then I’ll be back in a jiffy.’
He stepped out of The Dirty Donkey and cautiously walked with the crowd, keeping his head down to avoid being recognized. His disappearance in the neighborhood had not been a small spectacle, according to letters from Muriel. After he hosted the Whickber Street Shopkeepers and Street Traders Association board meeting, he had become quite friendly with the shopkeepers. They had all gone from normal acquaintances to close acquaintances, the type of acquaintance you would notice the disappearance of. (And apparently they were quite upset with him too, Muriel had written).
He crossed the street with the rest of the crowd and casually stopped by a window of the bookshelf. Inside, he saw Muriel’s constable hat that they refused to take off and smiled. Muriel turned around with a tin of sweets and offered it to… Maggie! Oh, Aziraphale was very delighted to see that they were getting along. Then, Nina appeared from behind a bookshelf, towing along a familiar redheaded demon.
Aziraphale was surprised to see Crowley wearing a simple long-sleeved shirt and jeans, a contrast to his usual vest and blazer. He had a faint smile on his face as he sat down next to Muriel with a cup of tea in hand. Aziraphale watched as he gently placed Muriel’s right hand on the handle and the left supporting the bottom of the cup. He pantomimed sipping and Muriel copied, their posture straightening in pride. They sipped the tea again, a grin spreading on their face as they beamed up towards Crowley. He patted them on the back, saying something that had everyone laughing. Aziraphale observed how Crowley smirked at them before sitting down on the arm of the chair.
He knew that it was good that Crowley seemed to be doing well, but still, a part of him hurt. Was he really better without him? Was he really fine without being on any side? Would Crowley really rather be a demon forever than become a holy, divine angel with him? The questions boggled his mind, so Aziraphale turned from the bookshop window and continued down the street. He would return to Heaven after a quick stroll, he decided.
–
He dreaded stepping into the chalk-white elevator. It had been a very long stroll, and the usual bustle of the streets had thinned. He missed living as a human. He missed chatting with vendors at the market and getting free products. He missed dining at sushi restaurants and carefully handling rare books. He missed the nuances of people.
But, he had a duty to the Almighty that must be upheld. Aziraphale pressed the only button in the lift and the doors shut. The ride was very, very short, but it always felt like an eternity. The silence taunted Aziraphale with doubts and regret. But once the doors opened to the sterile space of Heaven, something in his head reassured of his decision, despite the tenseness in his heart.
A stack of papers on his desk was there to welcome him back, right next to the new suggestion box. Aziraphale cringed at the sight of them and carefully grabbed the top file before sitting down. As much as he hated paperwork, it had to be done.
“Aziraphale!”
He turned his head to see the Metatron standing perfectly behind him, “I was wondering when you’d be returning. Nice trip, then?”
“O-oh, yes. Very.”
“Wonderful. Any information to report, then?”
“No, just checking in on my shop.”
“Wonderful, yes...It is a shame that Crowley isn't here, he would’ve been very useful to us.”
“Yes……”
“I wouldn’t waste your time worrying about that demon. We have more pressing matters to attend to.”
“Yes, well I was just about to start-”
“I'll leave you to it then.”
Aziraphale stared at the spot the Metatron had stood just a second ago.
He returned to the paperwork on his desk.
Alone again, naturally.