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Rain battered the glass of the Bentley, the windscreen wipers on full speed as the wet roads blurred hurriedly. Lights flashed brightly, reflecting brilliantly against the wet black hood of the car. Crowley's hand was tight on the steering wheel, the thumb caressing the leather lightly out of habit. The sound of leaves rustling gently filled the otherwise silent car, each bump in the road causing the potted plants in the back to move and jostle about.
Crowley did not slow down, as the hand on the dial inched closer and closer to one hundred and twenty. Cars zoomed by, and Crowley's golden gaze remained fixed on the dark road ahead. The only sign of life was the small tick in Crowley's jaw as he tried to hold himself together. Lightning lit up the road, followed by a clap of thunder, the rain falling heavier now. Almost on instinct, Crowley turned his head to look at the empty passenger seat and the clench in his jaw tightened.
Tires slid across the asphalt but Crowley gave it no heed as he faced the road again. The distance between him and the bookshop was all he cared about, and right now, he didn't feel farther enough away. His body burned with incredible rage, lightning crackled across the fingertips that rested on the head of the gear stick. With a flex of his hand, Crowley pulled it under control and took a deep breath.
Silence. He just needed silence, everything was too deafening. It was too loud and words repeated themselves over in Crowley's mind.
Nothing lasts forever.
Three words that tore everything Crowley had ever felt to pieces. Three words that took the very essence of who he was, threw it on the ground and stomped on it.
Anger made him grab the steering wheel harder as the picture of his Angel disappearing into the white light filled his mind. They had finally chosen their sides, and while Crowley had thought he'd built a side with Aziraphale, it appeared to be a facade, a lie. Crowley had been played a fool and fell for the oldest trick in the book.
One hundred and twenty came and went, the hand looking closer and closer to one hundred and forty. He knew at this speed and with this bad weather, he could get inconveniently discorporated but at least it'd give him something to do. Headlights flashed, a blur of colour as the rain continued to fall. Crowley's mouth trembled as he struggled to keep his mind off what had just happened.
Barely a second passed before Crowley let out a scream of frustration, a scream so full of anguish, pain and longing that it echoed. His fist smashed upon the steering wheel and immediately the Bentley began to slow. His hand flew to his face, ripping off his glasses as he threw them to the passenger seat. Uncaring to see if they broke or not.
Lightning crackled across his chest and down his arms, dancing furiously across his fingertips.
"Keep it together," Crowley muttered over and over and over until it became a mantra.
The rain kept going, the windscreen wipers seemingly moving faster to keep up. When the traffic on the highway slowed and quietened, Crowley pulled the Bentley over and sat idling on the side of the road. He swallowed heavily, and turned his head to look out amongst the grassy scene he had parked next to. Without another thought, he opened the door and stepped out of the car. The sound of the engine was barely heard over the rolling thunder that sang out overhead.
Rain battered down on top of Crowley as he slammed the door shut and walked around the front to face the field. The Bentley's lights lit up his lower torso, almost as if the car itself was watching the rain pelt down onto the demon.
Crowley's hair flattened as he stepped onto the grass and left the car on the side of the road.
He kept walking until the tall grass almost hid him from passer-by's. Cars on the road seemed far and few, with the storm blowing around them.
Each step he took, Crowley fisted his hands as he tried to control everything that begged to burst out of him.
Oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever.
Lightning burst from his fingertips just as a name was ripped from his lips. His whole body exploded in furious red lightning, smoke curling off his black jacket. A guttural scream that left his throat hoarse and body sore could be heard from miles away, it broke sound waves as his grief and wrath mixed. Aziraphale's name could be heard from the depths of Hell. As the lightning left him, he slumped over. Letting the cold water drip down his face like he was crying, and in a way, he suppose he was.
He'd lost the only person that mattered, the one who knew him best. Someone he thought he could rely on.
"Crowley- come back! To Heaven! Work with me, we can be together- angels! Doing good! I-I need you."
Crowley closed his eyes, trying to tear up the burnt in image of Aziraphale's broken expression.
Slowly, he tilted his head back and let the rain fall upon his face.
He stood there what like felt forever before turning back to the road and making his way back. As he reached the edge of the field, he clicked his fingers and his clothes dried just enough to not ruin the upholstery of the only thing Crowley had left.
Crowley slid back into the Bentley and sat in the seat for a moment, gathering his thoughts.
"Why'd you have to do it, Angel?" Crowley asked the empty car quietly.
There was of course no answer but he'd started and he couldn't stop.
"Why couldn't you see that I needed you too. Why couldn't you just stay, here with me." Crowley spoke aloud.
He turned his head to look at the passenger seat and imagined Aziraphale sitting there, his eyes fixed on him. Could imagine his shocked face as Crowley confessed everything he didn't get a chance to say.
"Aziraphale, why? Why would you want to choose Heaven? After everything they've done? Everything they put you, me, us through. Why? Were you not satisfied with your achievements here? Not satisfied with me? Angel, was I not enough for you?" Crowley's voice broke on the last word and he turned away from the mental image of his longest friend.
Crowley closed his eyes, giving himself a moment to listen to the rain. It had been twenty one hours since he'd seen the last of the Bookshop.
"I don't want your forgiveness, Angel. I don't need it, I need you. Please." He barely whispered, afraid someone could hear him.
With no answer, he opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder before moving the Bentley back into action. He was slower this time but his gaze drifted from the road to the radio.
Ever so delicately, and especially after the abuse Crowley had just put her through, Crowley turned it on and let the soft sounds of Black Sabbath's solitude wash over him.
No Queen. That was new.
The rain continued on for some time until Crowley realised he didn't have a whole lot of places to go. So as night fell and the roads got slicker, he chose to pull over and turn off the car.
It wouldn't be the first time he was homeless, and not even the second time. In fact, Crowley experienced homelessness quite a bit and maybe as Crowley stared out into the dark night, he realised that he truly was unlovable, unforgivable and truly misunderstood.
He couldn't sleep, he didn't dare. He watch a few cars speed by. They risked the night while Crowley sat back in his Driver's seat, uncomfortable and alone.
The radio began to static, and his gaze turned to it before the tune changed. A haunting female's voice began to speak and Crowley sighed in defeat.
"Alone again, Crowley?" Shax's voice came through broken.
"What can I do for you, Shax?" Crowley asked, not biting into her torment.
"Word is you've left London, trying to run away from your problems now Crowley?" The static broke and she came through clear.
"I couldn't care less about Hell's problems, Shax and I'm not in the mood to deal with you." Crowley replied, moving his hand forward to turn off the radio.
"Wait!" She called out sharply.
Crowley hesitated.
"Your boyfriend has started something he should've, and now war is inevitable. No matter what tricks you have up your sleeve, it is written. The second coming will undo us all." Shax spoke, making Crowley sit up straighter.
"The what?"
Crowley's blood turned cold, well colder.
"The second coming. He was the key. The ever forgiving Angel of the Eastern Gate." Shax spat.
Crowley's hand twitched.
"Don't play games with me, Shax." Crowley's voice was like death.
"Don't believe me? See for yourself?" Shax replied just as a white mist began to seep into the car.
Crowley scowled before bracing himself for the impact.
"Crowley?" His voice broke, as his hands fumbled.
A noise escaped the demon, his golden eyes moving downwards to focus on the blade that pierced him. He coughed, black blood splattered his chin and cheek.
"No, Crowley." Aziraphale's hands reached for him, moving from the blade to press against the wound.
Crowley let out a strained cry of pain, which made Aziraphale whimper.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" The Angel cried in reply.
The strength waned within him and he staggered before falling to his knees. Aziraphale tried to catch him but fell with him. Babbling and crying. Trying to stop the blood that bled from his wound.
"Crowley, please!" Aziraphale cried out in anguish.
"Angel-" Crowley managed to rasp out.
Crowley threw his head back as the mists retreated and he took control of the wheel, hoping it could steady him.
There was nothing he could say.
The radio was back to playing music but he didn't hear it, he chose not to hear it.
Instead, he swallowed deeply and cast his eyes up. Knowing he probably wouldn't get a line, but he had to try.
He placed his hands together, palm to palm, fingertips to fingertips and held them in front of him.
"Angel. Is this on?" Crowley asked, as he closed his eyes.
"I need to talk to you, about what happens next. About what Heaven is going to make you do. You- you have to believe me, Angel." Crowley prayed.
Nothing.
"I know you're mad at me and believe me, I'm absolutely livid with you but this is important. This is about more than us. More than what we had. This is about Earth and the protection of the human race! Come on Angel!" He growled out furiously.
"Ah!" He let out a shout of annoyance as he recieved no answer, punching his fist on the top of the steering wheel again.
"You called."
Crowley froze.
His eyes stared straight ahead, daring not to look just in case this was a trick.
"Is that really you? Or some figment created by Heaven to torment me with?" Crowley asked, his hand gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.
"You prayed. I'm here. What do you want Crowley? I'm busy." Aziraphale's tone was impatient.
Crowley turned his head then to look at his old friend and their eyes locked.
The harsh edges around Aziraphale's gaze softened slightly.
"You look tired." The Angel said gently.
"Been through a lot recently, going through a break up or something like that." Crowley replied, his eyes roaming across Aziraphale's face for some sort of sign.
The Angel swallowed.
"Sorry to hear about it." Aziraphale replied.
Crowley didn't say anything.
"You said it was important." Aziraphale brought the conversation back to its original point.
"Here." Crowley held out his hand and Aziraphale stared at weirdly.
"It's better to- show you." Crowley replied, a weird emotion bubbling up in his tone.
He wasn't sure how Aziraphale would react upon seeing himself in that scene. Wasn't sure if Aziraphale could even handle it but like Crowley said, it was about the human race and their survival. While Crowley had been distracted by the vision of Aziraphale stabbing him to death, he hadn't forgotten to notice that scene around them. The hellfire that scorched the earth, the ruins, ash and bone.
Crowley wriggled his hand.
"Not a temptation, just the truth." Crowley reassured the Angel.
Aziraphale gave Crowley a look before taking a deep breath in and reaching up to take his head. The dive into the vision jolted the Angel in the seat. Crowley watched his expression, watched as Aziraphale saw what he'd seen.
The Angel's hand squeezed onto Crowley's tighter, enough to snap bones if Crowley in fact had even human.
When Aziraphale's hand dropped, Crowley looked away. He gave his old friend a chance to gather himself.
"Crowley-" Aziraphale began to say.
"Hellfire. Did you see it?" Crowley asked, cutting in before he could go further.
Aziraphale didn't reply so Crowley looked at him.
The Angel looked a wreck, red rimmed eyes with tears that flowed freely. His mask had dropped and Crowley could see every bit of insecurity and pain that reflected in his gaze.
"I killed you." Azirpahale whispered.
"It doesn't matter if I die. It doesn't. What matters is that the world was burning around us. Fire, ash falling from the sky and bones on the ground. Ange-"
"Doesn't matter?" Aziraphale echoed brokenly.
"No. It doesn't." Crowley trailed off.
Aziraphale turned his gaze away and Crowley took that opportunity to run a frustrated hand through his hair.
He tsked slightly before turning to face the Angel as well as he could.
"Azirpahale. The earth was burning. You have to stop it. Shax said you were the key to starting it, so maybe you can stop it." Crowley tried to explain.
The Angel didn't say anything.
"Aziraphale?!" Crowley asked frustrated.
"I just watched you bleed to death in my arms, by my own hand." Aziraphale said slowly, his hands fisting in his tan coat.
"It doesn't have to happen if you stop it. Stop the second coming!" Crowley snapped, making Aziraphale finally look at him.
"I can't. It's already in motion. I didn't start it, Crowley. We did. When we chose each other, when we chose Earth over Heaven and Hell. When we stopped the apocalypse. It was always going to happen, Crowley. Metatron... he just wanted me to be the conductor. To wave my baton and watch the destruction start." Aziraphale replied, his tone hardening.
Crowley didn't say anything, his jaw clenched shut.
"It's too late." Aziraphale looked away, out into the rain that still batted against the car.
"I have to go, I'm not even supposed to be down here." Aziraphale finally said after a moment of silence.
"So that's it? You doom Earth to die?" Crowley asked, his tone unrecognisable.
"I tried. I thought that maybe if I could spearhead the whole thing than maybe I could try and change it but I was already too late. So as it turns out, you were right. You were right and I was wrong." Aziraphale replied, curtly.
Crowley leaned forward and pressed his forehead to his steering wheel as he tried to make sense of things.
"Have you?" Crowley asked, suddenly.
"Have I what?" Aziraphale asked.
"Have you waved your baton and watched the destruction start?" Crowley sat back to look at the Angel.
"I didn't have to. Asking me to leave Earth and resume the Archangel post was all it took."
Crowley shook his head, a dark chuckle on his lips.
Aziraphale sighed.
"This is outrageously hilarious. Right Angel? All of that, for nothing. Choosing Heaven, for nothing. I almost feel bad for you, Angel!" Crowley laughed out, unable to hide it anymore.
It was Aziraphale's turn to not reply.
"It's like God took everything you loved, gave you the tiniest bit of something more and then ripped it all away. Left you with nothing. Absolutely nothing." Crowley couldn't help but retort.
Aziraphale clenched his hands on his thighs as he started down at the white uniform.
"One big almighty fuck you from God," Crowley laughed out.
"Are you done?" Aziraphale interrupted Crowley's chuckling, his voice angry and unpoised.
"Oh I am so done. To think, that six thousand years of friendship, of trust and honesty, of having each other's back and mutual love for the world meant absolutely nothing to you when Heaven welcomed you back and what was it all for, Aziraphale? You sacrificed everything for what?" Crowley exclaimed, his hands falling to steady at the bottom edge of the steering wheel.
"So we're doing this? Right now?" Aziraphale asked, impatiently.
"I would love to."
"I believed I could make a difference, Crowley. There's nothing wrong with that, I thought that you would help me. Like you always did. I thought I could depend on you but you let me down." Aziraphale replied, the hurt catching in his throat.
"I let you down?!" Crowley exclaimed bewildered.
Aziraphale took a breath to reply before Crowley spoke first.
"I fell, Aziraphale. For a reason. I asked too many questions so they kicked me out of the pearly white office and sent me to live with the demons. You assumed that I would want back in, that I would change one horror for another. I may be a demon, Aziraphale but at least I don't have to pretend I'm doing anything shitty for the greater good!" The demon snapped back.
Aziraphale opened his mouth but was cut off once again.
"And you, you said it straight to my face. "Of course I wouldn't align myself with Hell because WE were the bad guys." You said it, your words! You called me bad, like everything I had ever done for you in the millions of years we'd known each other meant nothing. That I meant nothing to you! You tried to change me, for your benefit, not for mine. You were selfish, because you wanted to make the cake and eat it too. Well I'm sorry, Angel. I'm sorry that that I asked you to stay because honestly, it would just be better if you did go." Crowley turned away after that, taking in a shaky breath and pushing his teeth into his bottom lip to stop the tremble.
He squeezed his fingernails into the palms of his hands to distract himself, to feel a different hurt.
There was silence, and when Crowley turned his head finally to look in Aziraphale's direction, he discovered much to his dismay that the Angel had indeed abandoned him again.
Alone. Once again. Crowley lifted his head and rubbed mercilessly at the prickles that stabbed at his eyes.
Closing his eyes, Crowley leaned back in his seat and imagined a warm room. Candles decorating the wall and they were dancing, like they did back at the Bookshop, except they were slow dancing and there was no threat of life. Just them, swaying back and forth as they moved about the room.
Why did he even bother?
"Crowley."
His eyes shot open and he turned his head quickly to see Aziraphale sitting next to him again. The white suit was gone, replaced by his usual tartan bow tie and cream vest. Crowley's eyebrow shot up at the change, as he arms dropped from their position crossed over his chest.
"You came back." Crowley spoke softly.
"We needed to talk this out, and I figured wearing white wasn't going to help." Aziraphale replied, coolly.
Crowley swallowed.
"May I, talk?" The Angel asked worriedly.
Crowley nodded once.
"You're my longest friend, my dearest friend. Of course you mean something to me, Crowley. You always have. It's why I rely on you as much as I do. Despite our difference, you've always been there, helped me out, made me laugh. I just wanted all of that in Heaven too." Aziraphale replied, his voice low and gentle.
"I broke so many rules, too many rules but I would do it all again if it meant having the times that we had, the memories that I get to cherish. Crowley, please you have to understand that I just wanted what was best, for the Earth and for us. I thought that maybe being an Angel again might please you, might help you move on from this terrible self hating narrative thought process thing you have about being unforgivable." Aziraphale reached across to lay his palm on the top of Crowley's joined hands that bounced up and down with the jiggle of his nervous knee.
"You mean everything to me. Always saving me, always catching me and believing in me. I see now that I should've been better. Should've done better but it's too late for that. I wanted it so badly, an us. I wanted an us so desperately that I thought you and me in Heaven, running it would be the thing that made it happen but it only tore us apart and now everything is too silent. I don't laugh anymore, I don't smile, I haven't had a goddamn glass of wine in hours and mostly, I don't get to ask you for your opinion."
Crowley dropped his gaze to their hands.
"I'm sorry. I am so sorry for hurting you, for thinking you had to change for me. I-" Aziraphale stuttered and Crowley looked up.
Lifting both his hands, Aziraphale moved them delicately to Crowley's face and took the edges of the glasses, sliding them off so he could see the emotions swirling inside the golden gaze he had grown accustomed too.
"You were more than enough, Crowley. You were perfect. Beautiful. And you were right, I did let you down because I should've said no. Maybe then we'd be dining at The Ritz and you'd say something mildly hilarious and I'd laugh and you would look at me and I would think to myself. How did I get so lucky?"
"Angel-" Crowley's pet name for him caught.
"Crowley, forgive me."
Crowley sucked in a breath.
"I miss you, it's like a part of me has been ripped and torn from my body and I'm struggling to move without it. I need you, like humans need oxygen to breathe, like plants need water to survive."
Crowley looked away, touched by the words but unsure if this was all true.
A touch at his chin made shudders run all across his body as Aziraphale's fingertips pressed gently against his chin, forcing the Demon to turn his head. Their eyes locking.
"I still need you."
"In Heaven?" Crowley's voice was broken, too afraid to admit that he needed his Angel.
"No, just right here." Aziraphale dropped his hand from Crowley's chin to grab at his closest hand.
The Angel picked it up, pulled it towards himself and pressed the Demons palm directly over his heart.
"Say it Crowley, before it eats at you." Aziraphale's grip strengthened for a moment, giving Crowley a chance.
Silence filled the car, save for the heavy raindrops as Crowley struggled to find the right way to ask.
"What do you want from me? From this?" Crowley finally settled on.
Aziraphale's gaze softened.
"Oh my Crowley. You. I want you. I want us. More than anything." Aziraphale's reply had dropped into a passionate whisper.
"Us?" Crowley phrased.
Aziraphale nodded.
"Us as in what we were before or us as in something new?" Crowley needed to be clear, needed to know the boundary.
"You silly snake." Aziraphale breathed out before the distance between them seemed rather too large.
Aziraphale used Crowley's hand as leverage to pull him forward across the middle of the car and then cupping the Demon's cheek with his other hand, Aziraphale tilted Crowley's face up a little.
Crowley's eyes were wide, his thought process not moving fast enough until. Oh.
Aziraphale's lips were on his. Gentle, methodical, caring, loving and Aziraphale's free hand reached up to hold on to his jacket, his fingers were curling in the lapels. Aziraphale was pulling him closer, their mouths parting for the briefest of seconds for air before Aziraphale was pushing forward and pressing his lips harder.
Crowley responded, his head tilting further with the moment before he decided to meet Aziraphale halfway. They held each other, hands touching the other. Nails scratching on cream fabric as Crowley tried to grab onto anything, everything.
It was a lot, his emotions running through him like a haze, all drowned out by the feel of his Angel in front of him. Firm lips moving against his own brought him crashing back down to Earth, leaving the sight of stars for Humans as Crowley held onto his Angel desperately.
Crowley's name fell from Aziraphale's lips and Crowley swallowed it with his own, barely moving a hair width away and Aziraphale chased him. They parted, breathing heavy and a new light had sparked in Aziraphale's eyes.
It felt like everything, and nothing. Likes years of memories, like days of loneliness. It wasn't just a kiss, it was an apology, a reminder and another reason why Crowley looked at Aziraphale with half lidded eyes, his gaze roaming across the Angel's face.
Memorising it.
"I love you, Crowley."
For the first time since yesterday, Crowley smiled. His teeth brilliant and white as he came to the realisation that the was indeed reap and not a dream at all.
He'd kissed Aziraphale. For real.
"I know." Crowley replied, unable to stop the smile that appeared as Aziraphale entwined their fingers.
"I need to hear it, Crowley. If you mean it, tell me." Aziraphale's please was soft and broke Crowley's resolve.
"I love you, Aziraphale. Angel." Crowley replied, to which Aziraphale seemed to relax.
"Let's do that kissing thing again." Crowley broke the seriousness by saying.
Aziraphale rolled his eyes.
"Okay." The Angel noted before leaning over the center console and capturing Crowley's lips with his own.