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Angels are beings of love. They are made from God’s love to give that love to her creations. With that being said, the angel Aziraphale didn’t actually quite know what all that was supposed to mean. What was love anyways? He had never experienced it as far as he knew; but to be fair he hadn't existed for very long yet. Would they know it if they felt it? Maybe it’s how they feel about God. He did find it very nice of her to make the universe and himself after all, it was probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for him. But no, it doesn’t feel quite right to call that emotion love, that seems like too strong of a descriptor; perhaps that new word (respect was it?) Was a better term. If he was being honest, it bothered him. How was he meant to properly do his job and give love to God’s creations if he didn’t know what it was? What if he never experienced it? Would he just have to make his best guess and fake it?
He tried to push the thoughts back, but they continued to gnaw at him. In fact, he had unshelved them and was mulling them over for the umpteenth time while speeding through the newly formed cosmos, when he noticed another angel flagging him down. They were working on some new creation and required him to hold up a scroll of paper with an intricate drawing on it for them to see. He was happy to help with whatever was needed of him–helping is what angels are meant to do after all.
The burst of light that came when the other angel commanded it was nearly blinding. Aziraphale blinked the spots from his eyes and was immediately greeted by the most beautiful display he had ever witnessed in his short existence. Colors that he didn’t even know were possible swirled together, growing and bursting out in dazzling waves. Thousands of new stars twinkled at him as they flew past. And yet somehow, the thing that took his breath away the most, was the angel herself. Their pure, unfiltered, joy was enough that it nearly unbalanced him. He stared, not at the unfurling wonder in front of him, but the beautiful being beside him.
And oh, that was it.
Love.
He gasped at the realization. What a lovely feeling; his heart swelled with it, and gosh, that new thing the angel made sure was making everything feel rather hot.
“Look at you, you’re gorgeous!” Aziraphale stalled for a second. Had he really just voiced that thought aloud? How embarrassing. He was about to apologize for the inappropriateness of the statement when he realized that it was the other angel who had spoken, not him. She had been expressing her own thoughts about her creation. He mentally shook himself for being foolish. Get a grip Aziraphale.
“Oh, you-you made it all yourself?” He tried to distract himself by asking more about the light show that had just popped into existence. But as the conversation progressed, he was thankful that eye contact had been established as the polite thing for one to do when speaking with someone, because they couldn’t take their eyes off of the face that put the stars to shame.
Aziraphale was sure that he had committed a sin when he informed the angel of God’s plan to only run the universe for 6,000 years before shutting it down again. The smile dropped from their face and the warm glow of joy that had settled over Aziraphale like a blanket was suddenly yanked away. He tried to soften the blow by explaining what he had heard about Her plan for things, hoping that Earth and the “people'' would excite her again, but it didn’t seem to help very much. The frown creasing his face only deepened with each passing second. Aziraphale found that the sight brought on an unpleasant twist of emotions inside them and longed for her smile to return. He thought the idea that the people were going to admire her creations, albeit from afar, would cheer her up a bit. They were wrong.
“But that’s idiocy! It’s the universe, not some fancy wallpaper!” The angel exclaimed, waving his hands to emphasize. “Millions of galaxies, trillions of stars, oodles of… everything! It’s not just put here to twinkle!” Aziraphale balked. How could the angel say such things? God’s plan was beyond understanding, undefinable, too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words–someone should really make a word for that. What was this angel thinking, questioning it in such a way? As the angel continued with their tirade Aziraphale felt a seed of fear plant itself deep in their heart. He couldn’t bear it if the angel got into any kind of trouble for talking like this. They had a bad feeling about it. He did his best to dissuade her from expressing these thoughts anymore and told himself that would have to be enough.
A hush fell over the two angels as the light began to condense into drops of plasma which rained down around them. Aziraphale looked around nervously, afraid of what might happen if the sundrops were to touch his skin. He didn’t get an answer, because he suddenly found a canopy of brilliant white feathers arching over his head to shelter him from the downpour. The light bounced off the angel’s wing harmlessly and Aziraphale turned to look at her. The smile had returned to her face. A smile meant just for him. And there it was again, that curious feeling called love.
…
Aziraphale was determined for their first meeting to not be their last. Whenever he wasn’t busy with all the tasks he was given, he would fly aimlessly through the universe in the hope that he would spot the angel, who he had come to know as Crowley, working on their nebulae and star systems. More often than not, he would be able to locate the crisp white gown and wings and blazing red hair, standing out against the inky abyss of space. The universe was still rather small, not a whole lot of ground to cover. He was nervous the first few times he flew down to join him, always with the excuse of wanting to offer Crowley some help. Their nerves were quickly put to rest however, because each time Crowley saw them, her face lit up with that overwhelming joy. He wished he could capture that joy and collect it, hoarding it all away for himself. They wanted him to smile at them, and only them, for the rest of eternity. Thoughts like that came suddenly, out of nowhere, and disturbed them slightly. It wasn’t right for an angel to have such selfish desires. It even made him start to worry sometimes that this love he felt for Crowley wasn’t right either.
Now that he knew the feeling, he had noticed it in some other places. He felt it while working on his own creations, while watching a new nebula burst into life, when he looked at the designs for the prototype of the people (it had been referred to as Adam) for the first time. But none of those flutterings of love felt the same as the way he felt for Crowley. With them, it was an ever present, unyielding affection, a longing, bordering on need to be with him constantly. To listen to what he had to say, to make him smile and laugh (he swore the laugh nearly discorporated him the first time he heard it), to do things for him, to reach out and touch him. He never acted on this last desire, no matter how much he wanted to. He decided that it would be very improper of him to do so without permission, and it never seemed like the right moment to ask for something like that. Was it wrong to feel this way about another being? He hadn’t heard of any other occurrence of these sorts of feelings. Perhaps he was the first one to experience them. Or perhaps he was defective. They hoped God and the other angels couldn’t tell. They wondered if Crowley felt the same way about them. He did always seem very happy to see Aziraphale and willing to sit and talk with him for… well he wasn’t actually sure how long, they should really come up with a system to measure the moments that passed by, and a name for it. Their conversations often repeated since there wasn’t a whole lot to talk about just yet but Aziraphale didn’t care in the slightest. They were content to listen to her voice until that fated end of the universe.
The end of the universe was a topic that was stubbornly ignored on Crowley’s part, and in turn was carefully avoided by Aziraphale. It was the one sour thread weaved into the web of affection between them. Aziraphale was still worried about what might happen to Crowley if they were to voice their thoughts more often, and in front of the wrong company, but his feelings were assuaged by the fact that Crowley had not gone off about it again. She did make the occasional comment alluding to her dissatisfaction with God’s plan, but they were often vague enough that Aziraphale could easily ignore them. Most of the time he would simply change the topic to that of the stars, and Crowley would flip like a switch, instantly beginning to gush about them.
…
Heaven was in a state of unrest. The angel, Lucifer, and those who followed him had rebelled against God and the Archangels. They questioned God’s unchecked rule and sought more power for themselves. Aziraphale was horrified by the event. He had heard the whispers of dissatisfaction, felt the rising tension amongst the angels, but he never dreamed that a holy being would ever actually turn on their loving creator in such an unyielding way. But they did, and not just a few; nearly half of the angels had attempted to overthrow the current leadership. They had been stopped, of course, but nothing like this had ever happened before. It was then that God, in her infinite wisdom, called what they had done sin, and invented punishment. They were to be stripped of their divinity and made into wretched creatures called demons, the exact opposite of angels. They would be cast out of Heaven, and fall into a new realm, one of fire and pain, the new home of evil, Hell.
Aziraphale was there, all of the angels were, to witness the fall of Lucifer and his followers. They stood atop the clouds of Heaven, all puffy and glowing softly with a golden light coming from nowhere in particular. The ever-calm atmosphere of Heaven was in stark contrast with the mixture of distress, anger and fear exuded by the crowd of angels. They stood in two large groups, with the traitors lined up, single file, between them. Lucifer’s rebels stood there, weighed down with the golden chains wrapped around their wrists tying them all together; some shifting nervously, others seething with anger, still others staring stubbornly ahead of them. One by one, when they reached the front of the line, they would be unchained and stand before the Supreme Archangel, Gabriel. Each time he would raise his hand, his palm began to glow, as he voiced what they’d done and announced their fate. He then placed his glowing palm on the former angel’s chest and pushed, sending them falling backwards, off the edge of the cloud, and out of sight. Sometimes their screams would echo from below for a few moments before fading into nothing, sometimes they fell in silence. Aziraphale wasn’t sure which was worse.
Gabriel did not stand alone before the condemned angels. His fellow Archangels stood beside him, facing the audience of angels. Aziraphale could see Uriel and Saraqael, three others that he didn’t know, and him, Crowley. Aziraphale thought, in hindsight, he should’ve known right away that Crowley wasn’t just any angel. They had been nearly single-handedly responsible for breathing life into the wonders of the universe. He was the father of light. Besides, God wouldn’t take her time crafting just anyone with such beauty. But, he hadn’t found out about Crowley’s true identity until their fourth or fifth meeting. He had been impressed by Crowley’s dismissal of the title. They’d met Gabriel before and he hadn’t spoken of anything but his position and boasted all the responsibilities and power he had. Crowley had mentioned it offhandedly like it didn’t matter that she was one of the most powerful beings alive. She stood now, next to Uriel, on the side of Gabriel closer to Aziraphale. The other Archangels all looked attentive, some of them wearing satisfied expressions everytime another angel was thrown down to Hell, like they thought righteous justice was being served. Crowley’s head stayed bowed the whole time, her hands clasped in front of her. Next to the others, she painted a very somber picture.
The last one in line was Lucifer himself. His posture was tall and proud and even though Aziraphale was a good distance away, he could still make out his eyes, red rimmed and filled with fury and betrayal. Aziraphale was almost surprised when his gaze didn’t burn a hole through Gabriel’s head as the Supreme Archangel sentenced him to Hell. Right before he was about to take his fall, Lucifer looked away from Gabriel; his eyes swept the crowd of angels from left to right, until they stopped on one in particular. Crowley, for the first time, finally raised their head to look back at Lucifer. Crowley’s hair had grown out so it now fell just past his shoulders and it had been hanging down, concealing his face, but now it moved back as Crowley lifted his head. Aziraphale couldn’t help but let out a tiny gasp when they saw the tears that shone in the light on Crowley’s cheeks. Her expression was tight with constrained sadness and anger, and as she locked eyes with Lucifer, she gave the smallest, most imperceptible, nod. And then Lucifer smiled. He looked back at Gabriel, and smiled as his hand landed on his chest, shoving him backwards into the abyss.
Aziraphale felt a chill go up their spine. They felt the seed of fear that had been planted in their heart when Crowley questioned God during their very first meeting begin to sprout. He wasn’t listening at all to the speech Gabriel was giving to what remained of the angels, something about justice and preserving the purity of Heaven. Their heart pounded in their ears, they’d never felt this sort of imposing dread before. What did that nod mean? Had anyone else seen it? Why did Lucifer, the renegade angel, smile at Crowley?
Aziraphale didn’t take his eyes off of Crowley as Gabriel finished his speech and the crowd began to disperse. Crowley walked at the front of the crowd that was slowly filling back into the gates of the newly constructed foundation of what would become Heaven’s “office” as they had been calling it. It was all high walls of polished, white stone with large open spaces for windows. Intricate pillars held up each floor, of which there was so far only eight, but many more were to come. The massive metal gates that guarded the entrance to the building forced the angels to funnel through them slowly, adding to Aziraphale’s nerves as it was becoming more and more difficult to keep track of Crowley ahead of him. If the angel didn’t have such vibrant, distinct hair he might’ve lost her by now. Aziraphale hated to be rude, but this was a matter of great importance. They started weaving through the crowd, squeezing between bodies and sometimes pushing a bit or stepping on toes. There was a number of scattered grumbling and complaints as he passed through but he was too focused on catching up to Crowley to notice or care. He finally started gaining ground and the crowd thinned out as he made it through to the other side of the gates. He picked up the pace, walking much faster than he ever normally would. Crowley was making his way over to one of the spiral staircases on the other end of the massive entrance hall. Aziraphale swallowed his pride and jogged the last several feet, reaching out and grabbing Crowley’s arm just as he was starting up the stairs. If Aziraphale wasn’t in such a state of distress, he might’ve realized that this was the very first time he had actually touched Crowley before.
“We need to talk.” Aziraphale panted out, breathing a bit more heavily than normal from his chase. Crowley spun around when Aziraphale grabbed them. Their expression was one of surprise, but there was something more to it, a wild, determined, and maybe slightly fearful look in their eyes. But it softened immediately when he saw it was Aziraphale that had touched him.
“A-Aziraphale? What is it?” She looked at Aziraphale with confusion. Aziraphale glanced around nervously at all the angels that still filled the hall.
“Not here. Somewhere quieter.” And without thinking about it, just because it seemed like the most natural thing to do, Aziraphale reached out and took Crowley’s hand to pull him along up the stairs. He almost tripped on a step when he realized what he was doing. A bit of panic ran through him, a different type of panic than the one that he was feeling just seconds before. He almost dropped Crowley’s hand, but then he felt her fingers wrap tighter around his, and he perished the thought. He couldn’t believe he was actually holding their hand. It should’ve been nothing, just a meaningless touch between two friends, but it felt like so much more to him. It made his face feel warm and he smiled. It felt so right, the way their fingers fit against each other. He wondered why they hadn’t done this before; if their hands slotted so perfectly together, didn’t that mean they were meant to be put together? It would be shameful to keep apart such an obvious pair. Crowley’s left hand went with his right more than his own left hand did.
They reached the top of the spiral stairs and kept walking down the hall to the very end where they turned the corner to the left, which is where Aziraphale finally stopped. He had been momentarily sidetracked by the experience of finally holding Crowley’s hand but the fear came rushing back as he turned to look at Crowley. He very begrudgingly dropped their hand so he could speak coherently instead of focusing on how soft Crowley’s skin was. The angel in question took a moment to speak, seemingly lost in thought, staring at Aziraphale with a funny expression, something like wonder. When Aziraphale broke their contact it disappeared and he cleared his throat.
“Aziraphale, what’s all this about?” Her eyebrows raised in concern. “You don’t look so good. Are you ok?” Aziraphale’s hands rubbed together nervously. They were suddenly unsure of themself. They took a moment to figure out how to best broach the subject. They didn’t want to accuse Crowley of anything but they had to know.
“At the um, ceremony, just now,” he started. “I saw- well that is to say, I thought you were acting rather odd.” He refused to meet Crowley’s eyes as he spoke, gaze glancing around the floor and walls instead. “And then, at the end, with Lucifer… You looked at each other, and, and he smiled at you.” His voice has become strained and quiet by the end of the sentence. He hears Crowley sigh heavily and finally chances a glance up at him. Crowley’s lips are pursed and his brow furrowed, there’s sadness in his gaze, which is fixed on Aziraphale. They quickly look away again.
“Saw that, did you?” Crowley’s voice is low and sounds slightly resigned.
“Yes, I did,” he hesitates before plowing on with his thoughts. His voice becomes stronger as he picks up steam. “And- and I saw you nod at him. And you were crying the whole time, like you were upset that the traitors were being punished!” Aziraphale finally locks eyes with Crowley and doesn’t look away.
“You’re right. I was upset.”
Aziraphale is taken aback. “But, why? Justice was being served, why would that be upsetting to you?”
“Justice?” The word comes out almost as a hiss. Crowley’s eyes widen with anger and it almost makes Aziraphale want to take a step back. They’d never seen true anger from Crowley before and it was such a stark contrast to the joy that had first captured his heart it almost makes them feel slightly ill. “God just sentenced half of Heaven to an eternity in the worst place that will ever exist, for the ‘horrible’ crime of wanting a bit more say in what’s going on, and you think it was justice?”
Aziraphale takes a moment to respond, fumbling for a solid counter. “I-It’s not our place to question God’s will.” He knows it’s a weak argument as soon as he begins talking but nothing else comes to mind.
“Oh, don’t give me that old spiel.” Crowley looks exasperated. “That was wrong and you know it, you’re just too scared of what might happen if you admit it to yourself.”
“Oh, and you’re not scared? What if-” Aziraphale quickly glances around and lowers his voice even more than the loud whispers they’d been talking in. “What if someone heard you talking like this. You’re not scared of falling?
Crowley looks away, his expression guarded and mumbles something.
“Pardon?”
“I am scared.” Crowley speaks up, sounding angry still, but it now feels more directed at himself. “I’m scared of falling, alright? That what you want to hear?” Crowley crosses her arms and stares down at the floor. Aziraphale is flooded with regret and reaches out to ghost a comforting hand over Crowley’s arm.
“Oh, my dear, of course you are. I think every angel is,” Aziraphale’s tone is soft and soothing but Crowley just shakes his head, becoming even more agitated.
“No, you don’t understand,” He pauses and glances up at Aziraphale. “I was scared of the consequences, and that’s the only reason I didn’t join Lucifer.”
“What?” Aziraphale’s heart sinks into his stomach and he stares in disbelief. He had always been aware of Crowley’s misgivings about elements of God’s plan but he didn’t think it had been to the extent that Crowley would seriously consider rebelling.
“Apparently some of his followers caught wind of my complaints about things and it got back to him. He approached me himself and asked me to join him.” Crowley’s shoulders hunch a bit and he rocks on his feet nervously. “He said that having an Archangel by his side would greatly tip the odds in his favor. I was so close to saying yes, but…” He trails off.
Aziraphale is slightly breathless, “What stopped you?”
Crowley glances at him again, sighs, and looks at him fully. “You.”
“Me?”
“You.” Crowley’s gaze softens a bit. “I-I thought something like this would happen. I mean a direct rebellion against God, it was bound to fail. And I would’ve been happy to stand with them and fail anyways but… I thought about what it would be like to never see you again, and I realized that was more important to me.” Aziraphale is at a loss for words. They can feel their heart drumming against their ribs. Was it possible that Crowley felt the same love for them that they feel for her?
“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale is about to ask about Crowley’s feelings but a part of him remembers what they were talking about. He wants nothing more than to just drop it and confess his feelings to Crowley, but his fear wins out the battle. “Then what was that nod for. I know I didn’t imagine it. And Lucifer smiled when you nodded at him. Why would he smile if you refused his request to join him?”
“I told him I would carry on the fight.” Crowley suddenly seemed unable to meet Aziraphale’s eyes.
“You what?!” The icy tendrils of fear that had slowly been wrapping their way around Aziraphale’s heart since the ceremony constricted. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
Crowley looked around, Aziraphale’s fear reflected in their own eyes. “Keep your voice down.” They looked back at him and spoke low and fast. “Just listen to me, it wasn’t anything serious. After the rebellion was stopped and they were waiting for their punishment I went to him. I felt like they’d failed because I refused to help them, and so I promised him I’d speak out more, ask questions. A more indirect approach. I mean they wouldn’t throw me out for that, right?”
Aziraphale shook his head. “They might!” He was having trouble staying quiet, panic gripping him. “You have no idea what they might do, if they knew you’d been consorting with Lucifer!”
“They won’t know!” Crowley protested. “Besides, it wasn’t consorting really. More just, eh, a couple conversations involving mutual agreement.”
Aziraphale steps closer and takes Crowley’s hand again. “This isn’t a good idea. They’ll figure you out, and when they do, you’ll meet the same fate as Lucifer.”
Crowley looks down at their joined hands for a second before his face hardens and he looks up. “So you expect me to compromise my morals. Just sit there and be a good, obedient, angel, following orders when I know they’re wrong.”
“Wrong? Are you suggesting you know right from wrong more than God?” Aziraphale shoots back.
Crowley pulls her hand away sharply. “Maybe, I don’t know! But I do know that condemning all those angels to that fate, just for having a little bit of doubt in their minds was wrong. And I can’t just sit by after that.” Crowley begins to turn away but Aziraphale reaches out again to stop him.
“No! You can’t,” Aziraphale pleads with his eyes. “I won’t let you.”
Crowley turns back to them with a cool look on their face. “You know, I thought you of all people would understand. But, I guess not.” She turns, pulling away from Aziraphale’s grasp and walking away. “You can’t stop me.”
Aziraphale stands there for what was probably only a few moments but to him, felt like the rest of eternity. Eventually, he stumbled backwards, he had to go somewhere, but he wasn’t sure where. His vision started blurring and he blinked rapidly. He reached up to rub at his eyes in an effort to clear them and was surprised to find that they were wet. Oh, he was crying. He’d never cried before. It was an odd feeling that he didn’t find he enjoyed. He supposed it wasn’t meant to be an enjoyable experience as that was the whole point of the thing. Crowley was mad at him. She was going to speak out against God and get in trouble, and she was mad at him.
Aziraphale wiped at their eyes as they turned the corner to head down the main hall toward the staircases and stopped in their tracks. There was someone standing there. An older, severe looking angel with dark brown hair. They jumped when they saw him, clearly having been there for a while. They looked surprised but quickly recovered composure and straightened up, their chin raised slightly.
“Well then, the jig is up.” The angel said, looking at Aziraphale with disdain.
“Excuse me?” Aziraphale tried not to reveal the deep-rooted terror that took hold at those words. How long had they been there? He did his best to remain casual.
“That’s right, I’ve caught you,” the angel looked triumphant. “I heard what you’re plotting.”
Aziraphale thought he did a very good job keeping his calm demeanor while internally screaming. “What is it exactly that you heard?”
“You and your friend, well, I couldn’t make out every word, but one of you was conspiring with Lucifer and plans to continue his rebellion!” The angel crosses their arms. “Now, was that you, or them?”
Aziraphale opens his mouth to deny any involvement but shuts it as he’s hit with a realization. They don’t know. The angel hadn’t seen Crowley, they weren’t sure who had said what, only that someone was being disloyal. He felt an oddly calm sensation settle over him as he set his mind on what to do. “Well, I suppose I’ve been caught then. You’re right, Lucifer and I were in league with each other and I was to continue his fight.”
“I knew it!” The angel grabbed him by the arm and started striding towards the stairs. “Come on, traitor. I’m taking you straight to Gabriel. You’ll fall for this!”
Aziraphale let the angel lead him up the steps, one floor after another. You’ll fall for this. No, he couldn’t. Lucifer and his followers had fallen because they’d been violent with their uprising. He hadn’t actually done anything yet, just, supposedly, talked about it; and this would be his first offense, God would have mercy on him.
He still found himself to be a bit nervous as he and the angel made it up to the top floor, the one where the Archangels usually resided. They could see Gabriel standing, talking with a few other angels at the other end of the large, open room. The angel walked purposefully towards him, dragging Aziraphale by the arm, which they found a bit unnecessary, they were coming willingly afterall.
“Supreme Archangel Gabriel, I must speak with you immediately.” The angel gave an awkward little bow and Aziraphale had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Gabriel turned to them and looked them over.
“Uh, at ease.” He side-eyed the two angels next to him with a little smirk on his face. The angel that was still holding Aziraphale’s arm straightened up again, seemingly unaware of how ridiculous they looked. They began to talk but Gabriel cut them off with a raised hand.
“So, what seems to be the problem?” He asks. It’s silent for a few moments as nobody speaks before Gabriel and the angel start nearly at the same time.
“You want me to talk now?”
“Yes, talk now.”
“Right, ok then.” The angel clears their throat. “Sir, I, the Principality Michael, have just discovered a plot to continue Lucifer’s Rebellion. I overheard this traitor,” the angel, Michael, shoves Aziraphale forward a bit. “Talking about how he was conspiring with Lucifer before and after the rebellion and promised him to continue his cause after he fell. He also said that he thought God was wrong for punishing all those horrible mutineers.”
Gabriel turned on Aziraphale, who he hadn’t even acknowledged up to this point, with a furrowed brow. “These are very serious accusations. Is this true?”
Aziraphale took a deep breath for courage and stood up tall, straightening his robes. “Yes. It’s all true.”
“Well, that was easy.” Gabriel smiles, but there’s no warmth in his purple eyes. “You did good to catch this before it became a problem, Michael. I thought we had managed to round up all of Lucifer’s followers but it seems like one nearly managed to slip past us.” Gabriel poked Aziraphale in the chest and they looked down at the spot he poked before looking back up incredulously.
“H-hold on now. I’m not one of Lucifer’s followers. I refused to take part in the rebellion!” He wrung his hands together nervously. This was not going how he thought it would.
Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “Did you not sympathize with Lucifer and promise him you would keep the rebellion alive? And claim that God was, I can’t believe I’m saying this, wrong?”
Aziraphale pauses. Crowley had said all that. “Well, yes, but-”
“That settles it then!” Gabriel claps his hands. “As one of Lucifer’s followers, your punishment will be the same as the rest.” Aziraphale feels as if the ground has dropped out from under him and he’s already falling. Gabriel tilts his head, seeming to think for a second. “Unless… yes. Maybe, if you tell me who you were having this blasphemous conversation with, I’ll go easy on you.”
Aziraphale shakes his head vigorously. “They didn’t do anything, they were telling me not to go through with my plan. They didn’t say a word against God.”
“Yes, but they also didn’t report you like Michael here.” Michael seems to glow with the praise. “So they need to be punished too. They won’t fall, but it won’t be pleasant.”
Aziraphale wrung his hands, his thoughts racing. But he quickly found it wasn’t a hard decision to make. The image of Crowley, from their very first meeting so long ago, flashed through his mind. Her, watching her nebula burst into life, laughing and squealing and smiling more than Aziraphale had ever seen anyone smile, her eyes wide and bright with pure elation and wonder. He thought about that light going out and found he couldn’t bear it. They would do anything to keep that light alive. They felt the same rush of love that they felt seeing that light for the first time and looked up at Gabriel, dead set.
“No. I’d rather fall, thank you.”
Gabriel shrugged. “Suit yourself, then.” He started walking towards the stairs, calling back over his shoulder to the two angels that he’d been talking with when Michael and Aziraphale came in. “Round up the Archangels, we don’t need to do a whole ceremony again, we’ll just have them there. Michael, you bring the traitor.”
“Yes, Sir!” Michael grabbed Aziraphale again roughly and walked quickly after Gabriel, pulling Aziraphale with them. The two talked as they made their way down and out of the building but Aziraphale didn’t bother listening, too enthralled in his own thoughts. He wasn’t scared. The realization surprised him because when he was watching at the ceremony he couldn’t think of a worse fate. Being fundamentally changed, stripped of your identity and banished from your home, sent to an awful place where you were to become an awful person. He had been terrified by the mere notion of it, not even being able to think about the possibility of having it happen to him. But, now it was going to. His impending doom was becoming more and more real with every step that he took across the clouds. Despite all that, he wasn’t scared. The simple fact of it was that this was the only way to protect Crowley. In doing this, he was saving the one he loved more than anything, even more than God, from the unthinkably horrible experience of falling. And if it meant saving Crowley, he would fall, crawl his way out of Hell, and fall again for the rest of eternity.
Regret didn’t hit him until he reached the spot at the edge of the clouds, where the ceremony had taken place, and he was greeted by all six of the Archangels already gathered there, waiting for them. He locked eyes with Crowley and felt his heart break at the look of pure horror on his angel’s face. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that of course, as an Archangel, Crowley would’ve been summoned to watch the traitor fall. They forced themself to look away, they wouldn’t give away their connection to Crowley and cast suspicion on her after doing all this to protect her. Michael brought Aziraphale to the very edge of the clouds, the same exact spot that Lucifer stood not long ago and he turned to face the gathered Archangels. He hoped desperately that Crowley would be smart enough to restrain herself and stay quiet, but he knew even as he did so that he hoped in vain.
“N-No.” Crowley’s choked voice broke the silence. They stepped out of line and walked over to Gabriel. “Gabriel, what is this?”
“We’ve caught one of Lucifer’s remaining followers plotting to continue the rebellion,” he answers, rather chipper. “This traitor is to be sentenced like the rest.”
Crowley splutters. “Traitor?!” He looks back at Aziraphale, who pleads at him to stand down with his eyes. “No. Absolutely not,” she points back at Aziraphale. “There isn’t a traitorous feather on his wings.”
Gabriel lifts his hands. “I’m sorry, Crowley but it’s the truth. He was caught talking with someone about it after the ceremony earlier and he readily admitted to it. He then refused to tell us who he was talking to, so this is his punishment.”
“But, he was…” Crowley turns back to look at Aziraphale and realization dawns on her face. “You didn’t,” she says, in a horrified whisper, looking at Aziraphale. A silent communication passes between them and Aziraphale knows they understand what he’s done.
“Oh, but I’m afraid he did,” Gabriel says, not seeming very affected at all. “Now, stand aside Crowley, it’s time for him to go.”
Crowley’s gaze, still locked with Aziraphale hardens and Aziraphale shakes his head but it’s no use. Crowley walks forward and places himself right in front of him, facing Gabriel and the others. “No. I won’t let you.”
“Crowley,” Gabriel starts.
Crowley cuts him off. “Aziraphale is the kindest, most loyal, and pure of heart angel I’ve ever met. If they ever deserved to be cast down to Hell, then it would be long after any of us.”
“Ok, you’re out of line,” Gabriel looks angry. “Move, Crowley. Now!”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale speaks to him softly. “Please, just let this happen. I’m so sorry you have to see it but I’m doing this to protect you.” Crowley turns around to face him and Aziraphale sees tears threatening to fall.
“Please don’t.” This time it’s Crowley who takes Aziraphale’s hand. “I don’t want this. I can’t lose you.”
Aziraphale squeezes their hand and smiles up at them. “Oh, my dear,” he reaches up to brush a tear from Crowley’s cheek. “You won’t lose me. This may change things, but I’ll make my way back to you again someday, I promise.” Crowley leans her cheek into Aziraphale’s hand, more tears falling from her eyes and shakes her head. Without warning, Crowley is yanked back by two angels. He tries to hold onto Aziraphale’s hand but it slips from his and he’s dragged backwards.
“No! No, no, no,” Crowley cries and struggles against the angels holding them. “Please, don’t do this! Let me go!”
Gabriel ignores her and steps up to Aziraphale, clearing his throat. He raises his hand and his palm begins to glow. “Angel- What’s your name again?”
“Aziraphale,” His voice is distant, he wouldn’t have recognized it as his if he hadn’t been the one to speak it. They can’t take their eyes off of Crowley, who’s still fighting fiercely to get to them.
“Right, Aziraphale,” Gabriel starts again. “Angel Aziraphale, you’ve been found guilty of conspiring with a known traitor, plotting to rebel, and questioning the will of God. You are henceforth, no longer one of Heaven’s angels and are to spend the rest of eternity in Hell as the demon known as Aziraphale. May this fall seal your fate.”
Right before Gabriel’s glowing palm makes contact with his chest, Aziraphale smiles at Crowley. He’s still smiling as he’s pushed, and he falls backwards off the edge of Heaven. The last thing he sees is Crowley’s anguished face and her screams echo around him, haunting him as he falls.
Aziraphale can feel their skin starting to crawl, then burn as the effects of the transformation take hold. The most pain is in their wings and they can see their white feathers shedding off, leaving a trail as they fall. The golden clouds of Heaven quickly fade into oppressive darkness on all sides. He squeezes his eyes shut, not sure how long this pain was going to last. Still, he smiles as he thinks of Crowley. He thought he knew love before, but no, this was love.