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It was over. They were safe.
The Apocalypse was stopped, Aziraphale and Crowley left the city, and Heaven and Hell left them be. For a good five years, it was just them in a cottage in South Downs.
There were times Crowley felt it was too good to be true. He expected one of the sides to come after them, but they never did. For five whole years it was him, his angel, and the little house they picked out. Them in their own little blip on the map. After awhile he managed to convince himself that everything was finally over. That they were safe. That nothing bad could happen to them ever again.
He never should have let his guard down.
Heaven stuck randomly one day, a small strike group. Crowley and Aziraphale hadn’t be prepared, not in the slightest. They had gone to a nearby field to simply watch the clouds. The weather was nice, the flowers were blooming, and the clouds with fluffy and bright. They were snuggling on a blanket in the grass when the angel’s had shown up, Gabriel leading them.
Crowley had his wings out in seconds, trying to shield Aziraphale from the sudden attack. There were spears and arrows and swords; blood and battle cries. The sudden whiplash of emotions—going from peaceful and content to terrified and angry—left Crowley in a daze. He attacked without thought, focusing solely on protecting his angel and the life they made for themselves.
It wasn’t enough. It never was.
Aziraphale screamed his name, voice cracking with unfiltered horror. A body slammed into Crowley from behind, arms and wings wrapping around him. He almost lashed out, but caught the familiar scent of old paper and vanilla, tainted by the awful stench of blood surrounding them. Aziraphale held him tighter and let out a sharp cry.
The next second was both blurred and vivid. Crowley couldn’t understand what he was seeing, only taking in snapshots that made his heart stop.
Aziraphale looking at him with dazed, tearful eyes. Him smiling, saying something Crowley couldn’t hear. His eyes going dim, body falling limp. The arrows sticking out of his back and wings, an attack meant for Crowley.
Aziraphale not moving.
Aziraphale not moving.
A broken, glass-shattering wail ripped from Crowley’s throat. Aziraphale wasn’t moving. Glassy blue eyes stared at nothing, void of all emotion, all life. Blood was running along his feathers, soaking into his always-pristine outfit, drying into his curls. Crowley shook his shoulders, hardly able to see with the tears pouring down his face.
Aziraphale, Aziraphale, Aziraphale.
It was the only word he could say, the only word he knew. Aziraphale wasn’t moving, wasn’t breathing. Crowley bawled, shaking the angel harder. This shouldn’t be happening. Everything was over, they were safe. They were supposed to be safe! They had been for so long, but now his hands were slick with blood, the stench making him gag.
Something grabbed him front behind, yanking him back by his arms, his shoulders, his wings. Crowley screamed and fought, but he continued to get pulled back, pulled farther and farther away from his love. Heavenly chains snaked around his limbs and throat, pulling him to the ground, holiness burning into his skin. He snarled and sobbed and begged, staring at Aziraphale’s unmoving body now several feet away.
“Aziraphale!! No! Let me go! I have to—Aziraphale! I’ll kill you!! I’ll fucking kill you, all of you! Damn you all! You’re all dead!!”
His throat felt raw, torn open like his heart. It hurt so bad. God, Satan, Somebody, it hurt so bad. He’d been tortured before, in Hell and on Earth, but this was worse. This was so so much worse. Everything around him was dark and awful. It felt like he was endlessly falling, someone clawing at his lungs as he did. He couldn’t stop looking at Aziraphale. His angel, his friend, his lover, his other half. He was covering in blood, white changed to red, a red that was almost black. Crowley had to fix him, he had to save him!
Crowley screamed again, the angels simply watching as he came undone. Gabriel stood in front of him, heavenly spear in hand. He said something, starting a speech, but Crowley couldn’t hear it. He didn’t want to.
This wasn’t fair. They didn’t do anything. Aziraphale didn’t do anything. They just wanted to live in peace together, unbounded by Heaven and Hell. They stayed out of everyone’s way and kept to themselves. But it hadn’t been enough, it never was, and now Aziraphale was—
Something broke inside of him.
Aziraphale was dead.
He stopped struggling, all fight leaving him in an instant. Crowley couldn’t escape, and even if he could he wouldn’t be able to make it far with Aziraphale in tow, and he was not leaving this field without Aziraphale.
Aziraphale was dead. His partner, his soulmate, the only one to show him so much kindness and love in the past six thousand years was dead. It was all he could think, all he could feel, all he knew.
Aziraphale is dead.
Gabriel stopped talking.
Aziraphale is dead.
Gabriel lifted his spear.
Aziraphale is dead.
Crowley closed his eyes.
Let me dead too.
He heard the spear fly, and…
Nothing.
Not nothing in the sense of darkness or death. Nothing as in nothing happened.
Crowley opened his eyes, ready to scream and beg for them to just end it, but stopped short. There was someone in front of him now, their back to him. They wore a plain white suit, from what he could see, blonde hair cut short and styled. They stood before Crowley with perfect posture, hands clasped neatly behind their back. Gabriel’s spear was nowhere to be found.
“Let him go.”
Something inside Crowley shrieked at that voice. He knew that voice. Hadn’t heard it in thousands upon thousands of years, but recognized it on a spiritual level.
Gabriel seemed to recognize it too, immediately getting on his hands and knees, the other angel’s following suit. “My Lord.”
God.
Crowley struggled against the chains again. What was God doing here? He’d think it was to finish the job Herself, but that wouldn’t have matched Her words.
“Let him go,” God repeated.
Gabriel looked back up, eyes wide and confused. “But… but he’s a demon. He was—”
“Are you asking me to repeat myself a third time, Supreme Archangel Gabriel?”
Gabriel opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He waved a hand and the chains around Crowley vanished. A spark of hope, just the faintest flicker. Maybe there was still time. Maybe he could fix it, fix Aziraphale. He risked one glance at Her, then shot to his feet and ran, mind and vision tunneling on one thing.
“Aziraphale!!”
He fell to his knees in front of his angel, trembling hands hovering uselessly over Aziraphale’s battered and bloody back. With a snap of his fingers the arrows disappeared. He slowly flipped Aziraphale over, cradling him to his chest. Aziraphale’s eyes were still open, still glazed and lifeless as they stared unseeing toward the sky, a line of blood dripping from his open mouth.
Crowley let out a low moan, tears streaming down his face again as he held his angel’s cheek. “Aziraphale. Angel, oh fuck, Angel. Wake up, please. Please, please, wake up!” He rocked them both slowly, sobs raking his body. “Aziraphale, please. Don’t leave me, please, don’t do this. Wake up, wake up. Don’t do this, Aziraphale, please, wake up!”
Aziraphale didn’t move.
Crowley wailed and pulled Aziraphale close, cupping the back of his head. Crowley couldn’t heal this. No amount of angelic or demonic miracles could undo this. He was gone. His angel was stolen from him, killed before his very eyes, killed in an attack that wasn’t even aimed at him. There were no more movie nights, no more rants about a book series, no more dates at the Ritz, no more long drives in the Bently, no more dancing, no more cloud watching or star gazing. No more future.
Aziraphale was gone.
He was gone and Crowley was alone.
A presence appeared next to him and Crowley wrapped himself around Aziraphale more, baring his fangs at whoever it was. At any other moment, he would have flinched at the sight of the pressed white suit. But he just stared, and God stared back.
Something sparked within him again.
“Bring him back,” he croaked.
God said nothing.
Crowley glared at Her. “Bring him back.”
“Why should I?”
“’Cause he’s the only one here deserving of being called a bloody angel!” He screamed. “He is the only good thing in this entire blasted universe! In all of creation! He is the only good thing I have ever fucking had, and you killed him! He did everything asked of him, even when it was wrong! You owe him! Now bring! Him! Back!”
“And if I don’t?”
Crowley’s heart seized at the thought. This was his only chance, his only option. If She didn’t help Aziraphale, then...
He held Aziraphale impossibly closer, hating how cold the angel was becoming. “Then kill me.”
God raised a brow, though it didn’t seem to be out of surprise. “Why?”
“I have nothing else to live for if he’s gone.”
“I’d like to think you have plenty. Your music, your garden, your wine, your car—”
“Which means fuck all to me if he’s not here!” Crowley was trembling. He glanced down at Aziraphale, heart ripping into even smaller pieces. “I said he’s the one good thing, and I meant it. So you either bring him back, or you kill me.”
“And if I don’t do either?”
Crowley felt like he was burning and drowning. It felt like She was toying with him, but he knew this was just how She was. Another tear slipped down his face, full of bitterness and grief. He dropped his head, eyes glued to his Angel. “Please,” he whispered. “Just… please, just bring him back. Or put me out of my misery. He’s all I have.” He wanted to scream at Her more, but he held back. This was his one shot. He couldn’t risk Aziraphale’s life by being angry, not now. “He doesn’t deserve this. Please.”
God stared at him for a few long moments, then smiled softly.
Crowley flinched as She walked forward. He curled even more around Aziraphale out of reflex as She crouched next to them. She held out a hand, looking to Crowley for permission. Hope and fear and too many emotions to name overtook his mind. He hesitated, but slowly leaned back. She reached out two fingers and pressed them against Aziraphale’s forehead, Her other hand resting over Crowley’s.
There was a blinding flash, an aura of warmth and safety washing over them. When it faded, Aziraphale was no longer covered in blood, his clothes and hair back to pristine condition, his eyes now closed. Crowley realized belatedly his own body and clothes fixed as well, but that wasn’t important to him right now. He glanced at God as She stood up, then back to Aziraphale. He cupped his face, biting his tongue at how cold it still was. He looked back at Her.
“Give it a moment,” was all She said.
Crowley turned back to Aziraphale, too scared to move, too scared to breathe.
What if this was a trick? What if he stayed here for hours while they all laughed at him silently? What if he was still alone, and would stay alone forever? What if—
Aziraphale’s eyes flew open with a gasp.
Another wail tore from Crowley’s throat. “Angel!” He pulled Aziraphale forward, practically crushing him against his chest as the angel breathed heavily. “You’re—oh, fuck, Aziraphale. You’re okay. Shit. Oh my— Aziraphale. Aziraphale.”
Aziraphale’s breathing slowly tapered to normal. “Crowley?”
Crowley sobbed again at the sound of his voice. Oh, Somebody, he hadn’t realized how much he took it for granted. He hugged Aziraphale tighter, earning another wheeze. “Angel. My love.”
Arms wrapped around him, loose with confusion, but quickly tightening with the intent to comfort. “Crowley, dear, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”
Crowley let out a wet laugh. Of course that’d be the first thing he asks.
“What happened? I-I thought I—oh my Lord.”
God chuckled above them. “That would be me, yes. Hello, Aziraphale. It’s good to see you again.”
Crowley pulled away, though kept an arm around the angel’s waist. Aziraphale was gazing up at God with wide eyes, jaw dropped with shock.
Crowley looked at Her. A part of him wanted to thank Her for saving Aziraphale. Another wanted to scream at Her for playing with his emotions.
She seemed to understand his dilemma. God looked at him and nodded once, then turned toward the other gobsmacked angels, all of them back on their feet. “I command Heaven to leave these two alone.”
Whispers and murmurs fell over the field. Gabriel took a step forward. “But, Lord, they… it’s wrong. They’re an angel and a demon! It’s not right!”
“Are you questioning my judgment now, Gabriel?”
Gabriel flinched. “No, of course not! I just—I don’t understand.”
“I suppose you wouldn’t, no.” She gestured to the duo, still held in each other’s arms. “All of my creations are capable of love in some way, angels and demons included. These two are the perfect example on what I made love to be. No boundaries, no sides. Just a want and need to be with one another no matter the consequences.”
Aziraphale's hand found Crowley’s and squeezed. Crowley squeezed back.
“So, from this moment on, Crowley and Aziraphale have my blessing.”
A louder clamor washed across the field. Gabriel’s face drained of color. Aziraphale gasped and covered his mouth. Crowley wanted to react in a similar way, but was too in shock. She didn’t mean that, right? She couldn’t. Getting God’s blessing, directly from Her mouth no less, was the highest honor. It stood above any rule or law or permit. It wasn’t something to be given lightly.
And She just gave it to Crowley and Aziraphale.
Gabriel looked just about ready to explode. “I-I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you said that.”
“They stopped the Apocalypse! Th-They stopped the Great Plan—your plan!”
“If a plan such as that, one that was said to be destiny itself, is able to be thwarted, don’t you think it was meant to be thwarted to begin with?”
Gabriel looked like a fish out of water.
She waved a hand, not giving him time to answer. “You’re free to leave now.”
The other angels went back to Heaven immediately, though whether out of fear or respect was unknown. Gabriel started at God, then the duo, then quickly followed the others.
Aziraphale let out a shaky breath. “I-I don’t… I don’t understand.”
God chuckled, turning around to face them. “That seems to be the running theme.”
“Why help us?” His eyes went wide. “N-Not that I’m questioning you, of course! I am truly very grateful, Lord—we both are. I just…” He trailed off, look at Crowley, then back to Her. “Why?”
God smiled and shrugged. “I just think you two are cute together.”
Then, with a single blink, She was gone, the tang of blood in the air disappearing with Her.
They sat in silence for a long, long moment, everything that happened slowly setting in.
Then Crowley laughed. He looked up at the clouds, the sky now turning orange and pink with the setting sun, and laughed. It got louder and louder, slowly going ragged and turning to sobs as he curled in on himself, leaning toward Aziraphale.
“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, his own voice sounding broken. He pulled the demon into a hug and Crowley held on tight, burying his face into Aziraphale’s shoulder as he came apart. “It’s alright. It’s over now.”
“You died, Angel,” he cried. “You were so cold. They killed you. You were dead. Y-You looked—and I-I couldn’t do anything. Fuck. ‘M sorry, Aziraphale, ‘m so sorry.”
Aziraphale’s body shuddered as he cried as well. “I know. It was—oh, dear i-it was quiet terrifying. I didn’t want to leave you, Crowley, I’m sorry. I-I saw them aim and I just—” He cut off with a whimper, hiding his face in the crook of Crowley’s neck.
They stayed like that as the sky grew darker, oranges and pinks shifting to purples and blues, stars beginning to peek out between the clouds. For what felt like hours they let their emotions go, letting free the anxiety and grief and anger as they gripped each other tight, terrified that they’d lose this again if they loosened their hold for even a moment.
Crowley was normally an optimist, but he was terrified now as they hugged each other. A part of him was convinced it was all still a trick. That he this was all a dream, or that God would returned and take Aziraphale back. But nothing happened. Bird song turned to crickets as the sky darkened further, and no angels or deities appeared to continue the fight.
When their tears finally began to dry, Crowley turned his face away from Aziraphale's shoulder. “She gave us Her blessing.”
Aziraphale nodded against him. “She did.”
A moment of silence.
Then Crowley chuckled.
It gave way to more tears, but not out of anguish like before. They were good tears. He laughed in earnest, the relief just as overwhelming as the grief had been. Aziraphale followed his example, a quiet snicker turning to a guffaw. They held each other and laughed, weariness giving way to glee.
They had Her blessing. They had Her blessing. They were free. They thought they were free before, but now it was set in stone. It was a word above law. They were to be left alone, to live and love in peace.
It was finally over.
They were finally, finally, safe.