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crowley started regressing in 1827 involuntarily, shortly after he was dragged down to hell for committing the good deed of saving a young elspeth mcinnes from herself after the passing of wee morag. he’d been doing it alone-- not quite knowing entirely what it was, apart from knowing he felt ‘small’-- to cope with hell’s torture, until he was finally released in 1860.
immediately upon seeing aziraphale for the first time after leaving hell, crowley slipped right into his regression. now, aziraphale clearly had no clue what was going on when crowley stumbled into his (thankfully closed) bookshop casually after having disappeared for 30+ years, and then, upon seeing him, froze before sobbing unconsolably. that said, he was still going to try to help, however freaked out he may feel.
“crowley, dear? what's the matter,” aziraphale asked, visibly panicked.
crowley didn’t respond, far too frazzled and far too small to explain. he whined quietly.
“oh, darling, what did they do to you?”
“bad,” crowley cried, childishly.
“...bad? crowley, dear, you don’t sound like yourself, did hell put a curse on you?”
“no! no, no, no,” crowley shouted, before realizing how much he sounded like a child, how obviously small he was. “i mean-” he started, taking a moment to catch his breath between sobs, his voice still at a higher pitch than usual- “they didn’ put a curse on me-” hic- “they just was mean is all.” he sobbed. “no big deal, angel.”
“oh dear, hold on just a moment, i think i have a book on this.”
crowley stood there for a moment, puzzled, but too upset to really speculate on what aziraphale was doing. meanwhile, aziraphale was searching high and low for this one specific psychology book he happened to have.
he grabbed one off the shelf, skimmed through it, and gasped.
“ah, that’s it,” aziraphale exclaimed, stimming, clearly relieved. “age regression, right?”
“...wha’?”
“oh my, you don’t know what you're doing, do you?”
crowley shook his head. the sobbing stopped, thankfully, but his eyes were still welled up with tears.
“are you feeling quite small right now?”
...crowley nodded, embarrassed.
“i believe you’re experiencing age regression then. i read about it in this book.” aziraphale held up the book in his hand. “would you like me to summarize it for you?”
“...okie.”
“essentially, you're younger in your head than you are in your body. it’s perfectly normal, though a bit unusual for someone not human,” aziraphale explained, gently. “now, would you feel better if i were to treat you like a human child? or would you prefer i act as though nothing’s happening at all?”
crowley pondered for a moment.
“um, the human child one, please angel?”
“how polite you are!” aziraphale booped crowley's nose. crowley giggled, the tears finally retreating. “and of course, anything for you, dearest,” aziraphale said.
crowley blushed.
“now dear, how would you like for me to read you a book, or would you prefer a good cuddle?”
“cuddle?”
“of course!”
aziraphale took crowley's hand and led him upstairs to his bedroom, where the two cuddled until crowley fell asleep.
and that was all well and good, except for the fact that that was 263 years ago, and this is now.
crowley hasn't regressed on his own since that day in 1860. aziraphale was always there for him, so there was never any need for him to be alone while small. well, that was until his angel decided to be a backstabber and choose heaven over crowley.
so now it’s 2023, and crowley is alone. and small. very small. and very upset, so upset that there’s an ache in his chest. his eyes well up with tears, as he leans against the driver’s seat of his (currently yellow) bentley, listening to love of my life, by queen. his windows are luckily tinted enough to hide the fact that he currently has a tartan-print, adult-sized pacifier in his mouth, and a light blue bear stuffie, named “azi”, in his arms.
crowley cries to himself, silently, thinking about how much he misses his angel.
i was so sure he loved me, so sure! i even bought a cd of a nightingale sang in berkely square, i was so sure! how could i be so wrong?
gentle, silent cries turn into harsh sobs as the pain in his chest grows agonizingly stronger. he whines, squeezing his eyes shut, and rubbing the back of his stuffie with a shaking hand.
suddenly, he hears a knock on his car window. not caring about much anymore, he doesn’t bother to take out his paci, or even open his eyes to check who’s knocking, before rolling down his window.
“wha’ you want,” crowley asks, his voice warbly from crying, and the sound muffled by his paci.
“crowley?” maggie’s voice reaches crowley's ears, and he startles, eyes flying wide open. “oh, you poor thing!” maggie exclaims.
she and nina were the first (and only) people crowley told when aziraphale left, and they knew how badly it hurt him, but he never let them in about the regression aspect of it all. it’s far too embarrassing, even after 296 years of doing it.
needless to say, crowley feels helpless. nina and maggie are the only two human people whose opinions he actually cares about, and now maggie knows, and maggie surely will tell nina, and then they’ll both hate him.
crowley starts crying even harder, spitting his paci out onto his car floor.
“oh no, it’s okay! don’t worry, you’re safe! here, come with me, let’s go get nina, yeah? c’mon,” maggie says. crowley whines.
“nooooo, don’ want her to hate me too,” crowley cries. “please no...”
“hate you? who hates you?”
“azi! an' you! you know ‘m little now an’ you hate me!”
“i’m really sorry about how things turned out with mr. fell, but i can promise at least that i don’t hate you, and nina won’t either, i just think she’ll be better with this than i will, so let’s go find her,” maggie says.
crowley’s tears abruptly stop, as he registers what maggie said. she doesn’t hate him, and neither will nina. okay. that’s- that’s okay then.
crowley gets out of the bentley, and shyly clutches his stuffie to his chest, leaving his paci behind, still on the floor. they make their way to nina’s place, where she was waiting outside for the two of them to arrive.
what crowley doesn’t know is that prior to maggie knocking on his window, nina and maggie had discussed a plan to find crowley and make him do some self-care since he hadn’t left his car in three days.
what nina and maggie weren’t expecting was for crowley to be practicing some self-care on his own, by regressing.
“what’s with the stuffed animal,” nina asks, pointing to the stuffie in crowley’s hand, as they all make their way inside the flat. “that doesn’t seem in-character for you, being a demon and all.”
crowley blushes and hides his face behind the soft toy.
“nina, darling, he’s regressed,” maggie informs her.
nina’s face lights up.
“aww, you’re regressed? how old are you, little one,” nina asks crowley.
crowley removes the stuffie from in front of his face, and shrugs, looking at the ground.
“hey, that’s okay! don't worry about it. y’know, maggie and i were hoping to have you do some self-care while you’re here, and while clearly, you’re already doing that by being your adorable little self, we do have some nail polish, and if you want, i’m sure maggie would be more than happy to paint your nails for you. we even have some nail stickers you can choose from too,” nina says.
“want nail polish,” crowley says, shyly. “yellow. azi’s favo’ite.”
“you want your nails to be yellow,” maggie asks for clarification.
crowley nods.
“alright, coming right up!”
they all sit down on the floor in the living room, and maggie begins to sift through the bag of nail polish that nina had brought out while maggie and crowley were still by the bentley. after taking out six different shades of yellow, crowley finally finds one that matches aziraphale’s favorite shade of yellow and claps his hands.
“this one?” maggie holds up the polish he clapped at.
“mhm!”
“aw, that’s cute, it matches your eyes,” maggie notices.
about halfway through crowley’s nails, somebody knocks on the door.
“i’ll get it,” nina says, getting up from her spot on the floor.
as she opens the door, crowley hears a gasp, as nina hurries outside, and the door slams shut.
“mommy... why did mama leave so fast? does she not like me anymore,” crowley asks, sadly.
maggie blushes at the nickname before sobering upon realizing what he said.
“oh, no darling, she’ll be back! there was probably just someone very important at the door.”
crowley performs a minor miracle to figure out who’s at the door and is immediately shaken out of his headspace.
“it’s aziraphale,” crowley says, solemnly, sounding significantly less youthful than moments ago.
maggie looks concerned.
crowley starts to make his way to the door, and maggie tries to stop him, but it's no use, as crowley is a demon, and he just miracles her away.
crowley's hand shakes as he reaches for the door handle, but he powers through his sudden rush of anxiety, and opens it anyways.
“i mean, the fact that you think you can just waltz on back here while crowley was in his car for three days bawling his eyes out, is absolutely-“ nina cuts herself off. “oh! hi crowley, are you okay dear?”
“i’m fine.”
nina looks taken aback at how low his voice is compared to moments ago.
“are you not still-’
“no, i'm not, so if you'll excuse me, i need to talk to a backstabbing angel.”
nina backs off and heads back inside, leaving crowley alone with a visibly anxious aziraphale.
“look, crowley, before i explain, i want to say, i do hope i haven’t ruined what we have between us.”
“well, i guess we’ll see about that angel, won't we? explain.”
aziraphale looks a little hurt.
“sorry,” aziraphale starts. “i just- well what happened was-” he sighs, revealing his now black and damaged wings- “i fell.”
crowley is taken aback.
“i thought i could fix heaven! i thought i could make it better! for you! for both of us! but- well, all i did was ask a few questions...”
aziraphale starts to cry. crowley just stands there, shocked.
“well? say something? please,” aziraphale asks.
“do the dance.”
“what?” aziraphale laughs, still crying.
“do the dance. and then i’ll forgive you.”
aziraphale giggles, and begins to do their apology dance, his tears slowing to a stop.
“you were right, you were right, i was wrong, you were right.”
“i forgive you,” crowley says, almost smiling.
aziraphale smiles, fully and whole-heartedly, waving his hands around.
“now- uh- can i make up for that- that terrible kiss we had?”
crowley laughs, “of course, angel.”
aziraphale grabs the silver tie around crowley’s neck and pulls him in with a level of passion only possible through millions of years of pining, as their lips collide and messily, and inexperiencedly, but most importantly, humanly. as the kiss is happening, crowley makes a significant effort not to smudge his nail polish, and it’s thankfully successful.
their kiss lasts a full twelve seconds, just as the first one did, only this time they’re both happy.
their faces pull apart eventually, and they’re both giggling messes.
“i love you,” says aziraphale.
“i... think you owe me a seriously alcoholic breakfast at the ritz,” says crowley, teasingly.
“crowley!”
“and i love you too.” crowley smiles.
“thank you,” aziraphale says, jokingly indignantly. “also, were maggie and nina doing your nails? i noticed your fingers were all splayed out during our kiss.”
“it was just maggie, but yeah. maggie found me regressed in my car and took me to nina’s.”
"you regressed alone?”
“well, what was i supposed to do, angel, i couldn’t exactly drop everything and go to heaven to find you.”
“i’m sorry.”
“it's fine, you already did the dance.”
crowley walks to the door of nina’s flat to thank her and maggie for taking care of him, and then the new couple head to the ritz.
as they get there, crowley miracles them a table, and they sit down. while aziraphale orders a chocolate soufflé, crowley just gets a drink, because all he’s craved for the longest time is already in front of him.