Archive of Our Own ^beta

The elevator was incredibly slow, although it might just be his jitters, Aziraphale haven’t really used heavens elevator, it seemed like a very long and boring way up, maybe it was a sign of the type of life waiting for him, maybe it was a warning, a bit of extra time so that he could reconsider his decision in a small dull and monotonous white space, with the voice of god by his side, now that he thought about it even Crowley had used the elevator more than him, it was too bright, too modern, too harsh, too boring, too BAD, maybe he was just nervous, Why was he nervous? Was he excited? He couldn’t even tell, so how could we know?

Aziraphale definitely thought that his first day was going to be different, he wasn’t exactly expecting a welcome party (although he would’ve loved one), maybe he was expecting congratulations or an apology for trying to kill him, that would be nice too, but as soon as he arrived all he received was a cold shoulder from his fellow angels, after all he wasn’t the most loved one there, for the winged ones he was nothing but a careless low angel that have betrayed them by fucking up the apocalypse, losing an incredibly powerful weapon crafted by god herself, and worse than all have been so close to a demon that he could survive the fire. Somehow he was still an angel, even worse he was now an archangel, THE ARCHANGEL, there were some people in line for that position, and soon they will let Aziraphale know not only that he was not welcome there but also that they wouldn’t make his job easy.

Aziraphale felt uneasy, it was not only the backhanded comments that everyone seem to be doing all the time, not only those hollow, brightly white and lonely long hallways, no something was missing, Crowley was missing, Aziraphale was into an incredibly big mess, and his demon wasn’t going to save him now

Tedious meetings filled most of his time, that and the incredibly long paperwork that came afterwards, there was no time to rest, as angels didn’t really need to, there was no food and nothing recreational which made Aziraphale’s problems worse, job job job and only job, he knew that he was going to have a lot more of responsibilities but at this point it was ridiculous the amount of times he had gone to trials for the stupidest things.

As he was walking out of another dumb meeting he remembered something.

— “Hey Uriel!”

— “Yes archangel” the angel replied in a monotone voice, they were talking more because they had to rather that because they wanted to

— “How did you find about me and-“ Aziraphale made a pause long enough for Uriel to know what he was referring to

— “We just went over the records until we found evidence, there is everything since before the creation updating with every second, it’s more of a live transmission that you can rewind such a sophisticated and useful resource actually........”

Uriel kept talking about the advanced technology in heaven, and made a comment or two about how Aziraphale wouldn’t know how to use it, but Aziraphale had already listened to all he needed to hear and commanded the angel to leave, which they did while protesting. 

Aziraphale waited for a while, it finally seemed like a slow day, so he decided to mess a bit with his new shiny toy, of course he went straight to see live feed of library, it was (as expected) looking exactly the same, the sun was already settling on earth the warm tones filling the image aching the angel, another thing of earth that he missed, here he couldn’t see sunsets, he couldn’t really see anything besides those white miraculous lights that never went off, there was people inside of the bookshop, and even worse those people came out with books, pain was the first thing that Aziraphale felt and then, regret

“Nothing last forever”

His words came flashing at him stabbing him 1000 times, he knew that the library was going to stop existing, but he didn’t expect for its destruction to start this soon, was it soon?, all of those books were part of his existence on earth, the things he had done to get them were proof that he have been there, that he had been human, that he have felt, that he had lived, that he had done something with his existence ,DONE SOMETHING, that was another thing that made him feel bad, he couldn’t exactly know how much time he had expended in heaven as everything look the same all the time, and he was scared of asking, scared of getting in their wrong side, scared of the consequences that might bring, scared about them thinking that he didn’t want to be there, a part of him really really wanted to leave, but he will never show it, he hadn’t been there so long, have he? Long or short, on his stay he hadn’t made that much of a change, in fact he hadn’t changed anything, all he did was sit, try to pay attention (which turned out to be an incredibly difficult task) and give his vote, but the vote had to be the same as everyone else’s if he didn’t want to end up worse than Gabriel, they gave up on him, but another little mistake from heaven wouldn't have such a nice ending, to make a change he’ll have to fight back, but first he needed to earn their trust, after all you have to lose a few battles to win the war.

A thought pop into his mind, he couldn’t stand to see his books being sold, that make him mad, really mad, and when he was in such a mood he spiral, so his mind naturally drifted to his favorite thing to look at: CROWLEY, with a natural hurry Aziraphale started look for his flat, chest pondering as he searched for the address, and before him (because apparently heaven doesn’t have any care about people’s privacy and one can observe peoples flats 24/7) was the demon in such a horrifying state that the angel quickly turn off the image, but the damage was already done, and even though Aziraphale shut his eyes as hard as he could the image was engraved on his memory, there it was, the being that he loved the most on the floor curled up resting, with his hands all bloody and the department filled to the brim with empty liquor bottles.

Aziraphale had fucked up, and he had fucked up badly.

He started gaining back consciousness, first he opened his eyes, and then they tried to move their leg, but it was stuck, same with their other extremities, so there they waited, and waited, and waited.

Hours passed and little by little he regained control of his body, the body was still asleep, and as it was awakening it felt as if both legs and arms were full of static, some more time passed and Crowley was able to stand, now that he could focus he realized that all this time something has been sounding, so he went and investigate, as he was getting closer the sound grow louder and clearer, his heart started racing as the easily identifiable voice babble something incomprehensible, the voice that he had heard so many times, that voice the one he loved and craved became clearer, Crowley only know who the voice belonged to, they couldn’t exactly make sense of what he was saying, or where he was, but he was close, his angel had finally chosen him, Crowley’s legs started failing, not from his sleep but from excitement, from happiness to see the love of his life, to see him back.

Just as he was getting ready to go running and embrace him reality hit him like a semi-truck, it wasn’t Aziraphale talking, well technically it was, but the sound came from that machine, that stupid machine, filled with rage Crowley throw it across the room, hitting the concrete wall and breaking it into smaller pieces, a new distorted version of that sweet sweet voice emerging from the mess of old broken plastic, and then fire again, it was torture for the demon to be hearing whatever deformed variation of his angels voice that machine was creating, so he just burned it.

While watching it burn, he noticed something behind, on the hallway instead of the beautiful green colors that used to decorate the space not so long ago there were only ugly brown cardboard boxes, and on the inside pots filled with dirt, dust and what once was a living organism, this drove Crowley incredibly mad, kicking the boxes he flipped its contents spreading dirt all over the floors, but that wasn’t enough, in fact he had just started, Crowley absolutely demolished every boxed spilling the contents everywhere, his plants were all he had left of his old life, the only thing he still had controlled over, and from day to night they were all dead, his apartment has never felt so empty, so cold so monotonous, so small, suddenly the walls started feeling closer and closer, his lungs were burning, and his vision started getting blurry as he fell to the ground he needed to get out as quickly as possible, getting back on his feet would be an impossible chore so on all fours he crawled to where the door was, there and with great difficulty he was able to stand up, as he was going down the stairs he stated calming down a bit, just enough for them to get to the street and start the Bentley, of course Crowley wasn’t thinking, and some kind of primitive instinct drove him to the bookshop.

It was different, not only the bookshop, the whole street. Crowley though that without his angel, the street, and then slowly the whole world was going to become a gray tiring place with no sign of happiness or hope, Aziraphale’s absence had that effect on his life, so why wasn’t it having it on others, going straight to the library seemed out of place and thankfully the drive had already calmed him down a bit, so he went to the most colorful of all the stores, to where the last food of Aziraphale had come from, give me coffee or give me death, it was pretty much the same, except the store looked a lot happier now with (more) vibrant colors, lots of plants and old music making an ambience, in a corner there was a yellow record player and next to it tons of vinyl’s, not so well organized.

Just as Crowley was about to order Nina gave him an unsure smile

— “Hey!”

— “Hello Nina” responded Crowley, it was nice to see a friendly face, and although Crowley blamed her and Maggie just a little about the way things have ended it was still nice to have a friend

— “How’s life been treating you” BAD

— “Oh well, u know how it goes” did Nina know about Aziraphale leaving? Maybe they haven’t noted his absence, but they soon would and both her and Maggie would start asking questions, not only them but all the other people that meet Aziraphale too.

— “Hm yeah, just passing through or are you coming back around?”

— “I wanted to take a little walk”

— “Good, let’s hope you have more of those, we don’t want to forget your face”

— “Oh, you could never forget me”

— “Sure pal” Nina said in a sarcastic manner

— “So, what can I offer to you, mister Crowley?”

— “What was that thing? The one that tranquilizes people?”

— “Hmm”

— “The Eiffel cakes”

— “Oh, the Eccles cakes? I’m sorry, but we retired them a while ago, apparently raisins aren’t really that popular anymore”.

Crowley was incredibly confused, and although the stable ground had made him feel better than how we was 20 minutes ago this conversation with Nina was starting to make them dizzy again, what did she mean by a while ago?. Just the other day Azi had bought some.

— “Fine, I’ll have six shots of espresso then” no Eccles cakes must have been a sign of the universe

— “Such a radical change” Nina said giggling as she was turning her back to pour the almost black liquid in a big cup

— “Have a nice day mister and try to visit us more often” said Nina sincerly, she didn’t sound like she was playing a joke which confused Crowley even more

As he was leaving the place, a small question started growing deep inside his mind, a little query that started consuming her with each step that he gave getting closer to the bookshop just across the street.

How long had he been sleeping for?

Aziraphale was tired, tired of all this, this new way of living have really affected him, no one here was as nice as he remembered, all the angels were just blindly doing what they told them to, if they did a bad job they would be punished, if they did a good one, nothing, no congratulations or anything, it was expected from them to do perform, which had everyone constantly worried, that strive for perfection was the thing that make them so cold to others, so out of touch with everyone else, because if they weren't perfect they wouldn't let anyone else be, the only thing relieving them was the fact that god had it all planned; Of course no one knew exactly what the plan was, but they blindly believe on it, having all of their fate rested on the fact that one day, when the plan come to an end they'll finally be able to be free again.

All of aziraphales superiors and equals barely talk to him, except when they needed some kind of approval for an upcoming meeting, or when they wanted to scold him about not participating enough on the divine matters. Aziraphales inferiors were scared of him, they would do anything he asked them to, but they would avoid to talk or even look at him, they always looked more scared to be around him rather than pleasant.

The white lights haunted him and didn’t let him think straight, all his plans had already crumbled, and this conditions did let him think of a new one, the emptiness of it all make him feel like he was being studied, like those poor rodents back on earth were before they stuck syringes on them to see if the experiment had been successful or not, what would be his syringe?

The only small and almost nonexistent treat he could give to himself on heaven was that sweet voice from the demon that not so long ago was just by his side, that and watching him, although there was nothing very interesting on the second one watching Crowley sleep so peaceful in that awful place he called home soothed him, by this time Azi had already got used to the mess surrounding Crowley, and since relieving their memories together was far too painful to do, so watching him sleep was one of the best thing he could get.

The archangel was mad, on a superficial level at Crowley for not accepting the offer, they could’ve been together, even better, after some years they could start making changes, the fact that an ex-demon would be an angel again was just going to be the first, after that they could improve things more and more, until heaven was actually good, Aziraphale was conscious that heaven was not the best, but he truly believed that he could make it great again, besides that, after all the changes, after serving their purpose and giving back to the place that created them maybe one day him and Crowley could escape, if nothing bad happened to Gabriel and Beelzebub after such an abrupt retirement, maybe him and Crowley had a chance. On a deeper layer the angel was mad at himself, although Crowley always had destructive tendencies, right now everything that she had done was because of azira, ever since he left she had been sleeping, yes it was her favorite activity, but right now it was the only thing not painful for her to do, all the things that Aziraphale had sacrificed had ultimately been in vain, he didn’t want to believe this of course, but all heaven had done was mock him, every time he proposed something everyone would just laugh and oppose to it, whit out giving any good reason besides the fact that "that's not the way things are", and an archangels power can only do some things. Metatron really just wanted him for the title, to be able to authorize things without the system changing, without realizing it Aziraphale had become a tool for everything to remain static, his job was only to maintain the old ways, which infuriate him because his plans were the exact opposite.

Those soft pretty red curls, that pale light skin and the astonishing yellow eyes, that used to accompany him everywhere, the texture of the pages while going through his fingers, the little cuts they sometimes produced when not careful enough, the smell of the old books present since you opened them, the yellowish tones the pages pick up little by little, the wear of the spines thanks to the many times they have been held, the subtle acidity of champagne, the soft and salty taste of the sushi, and the sweet sweet flavor of crêpes haunted him, ghost of his past, little worms in his brain reminding him of everything he had lost.

After every meeting, after filling all the paperwork and meditating of the impact about everything he had done could have in the long run the archangel would just sit and watch Crowley for hours, just watching him breath, sleep, exist, he had already memorized the whole picture, he knew how many bottles were in the floor, he knew that the shrunk and burned piece of plastic in the back used to be a vinyl, he had counted in numerous times the tiny speckles of blood adorning the floor like sprinkles on a cake, he had seen his precious plants die day by day without stopping them from their imminent death; Of course he could miracle them to not die, but Crowley maintained them in perfect condition without using any miracles, he maintained them the human way, he could probably go down and water them, like Crowley would, but he was scared that his presence would wake up Crowley, the demon really needed to sleep, and if he woke up they would have a very awkward conversation, one that aziraphale wasn’t ready to have, and as it looked neither was Crowley, they both had many things to said, but those words would remain untold, silent, unspoken, it seemed as that was the only way they could communicate, without talking, only using little codes that protected them for showing what they really think, what they really felt, besides that the plants were a mirror for Aziraphale, he could see himself in the plants, both of them dying in the absence of Crowley, but only one showing it.

When the archangel was feeling Particularly down he would call to the number he had memorized so many nights ago, just so he could hear Crowley’s voice saying the same words over and over again, clinging to the sound and finding great comfort in the inflation of his voice, he tried saving it just for occasions where he was either giving up, or had made the smallest accomplishments, insignificant to others but that the demon would definitely sheer, that treat didn’t last much though, he seemed to be giving up quite often and in little time the answering machine was filled from Aziraphale’s quiet sobs and latest over exaggerated achievements.

Half of the cup was already gone, hands trembling so much they almost spilled the little liquid left on it, feet touching the dark pavement one step at a time anxiously looking forward to see how Muriel was handling the library, mind focused on the fact that aziraphale wasn't there anymore so that his absence didn't take him aback, she was halfway there, eyes fixated on a new door color, when something solid and cold on his hip pulled her out of his thoughts, and stopped him from looking at the door.

She realized that she was on the ground and the pain came immediately after, hips and head hurting, Oh! the head, it felt like it was going to explode, the person driving left not caring about the accident nor the being they have hurtled, or perhaps caring too much, but about the consequences that’ll bring.

Crowley was okay with this being his end, lately things on earth were dizzy and confusing, like they were many many years ago, after that everything just became worse, it was many years ago and in a far better place, with no strings attached, so he didn't dare to imagine how bad things could get here, the only things that grounded him to earth were gone, he come to this place to accompany humans, to tempt them, to make them make choices, for him to intervene and help them choose the way they wanted to live, it was only fair that one of those humans would take his life, and what better than with a car, one of their best inventions.

Humans would probably be gone thanks to aziraphale in a couple thousand years, if Crowley died he would go back to hell, there, demons would notice his existence, maybe just by punishing him, making him an example of what happens to traitors, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened and right now it was far better than what was happening, he wanted for someone to call out his name even if it was just to torture him, to laugh at him, ridicule him, THAT was better than nothing at all, than an unimpactful existence, maybe none of that would happen and he'll just get back to the crowded place that everyone keep insisting was his home, either option was better that seeing how the creature he loved so purely destroyed what they have been caring for together the last 6000 years based only on bad decisions and pressure exerted by a higher powers.

The demon was slowly saying goodbye to his earthly years relieving theirbest memories one by one in the few seconds he thought he had left, preparing to say goodbye to the body that had held him so many nights and anticipating what would be of him in the afterlife, when a familiar high-pitched voice invaded the space.

— “Mister Crowley, are you okay?” Although it shouldn't, it took him by surprise, in no time he restored his composure and responded to the curious eyes.

— “Yeah sure kid” the demon said while an almost unbearable pain on the hip ached her, he couldn’t stand up by himself, so Muriel helped him cross the road, until they arrived at the library.

It was different, barely the entrance remained the same, instead of the deep red color there was now an almost electric blue adorning the door, a sign could be read stating the hours it was opened 9-5 every day, but the inside, that was what took Crowley aback, what once was a cozy place packed with books and old comfy chairs, with warm walls and wood floors was now all organized by sections, by genre, yearly, or alphabetically, it didn't matter which one, if Muriel did it that meant it was a good system, a system that was meant to be accessible for those who came inside, and a system that aziraphale didn’t have as his books were ordered in quirky unique ways that made sense in his head and his head only, because he was supposed to be the only one in contact with them, only him and the people he trusted could inhabit that quiet little sophisticated nook on earth, however that domesticity was all over, as strangers now enter the room where Crowley poured his love time ago.

The new layout was intended to welcome people with clearer colors, bright white lights and colorful modern chairs, all of this inviting them to buy.

The hit, the caffeine and the new state of one of the few places where he truly felt himself made the world whirl once again.

All he wanted was for this to stop, he closed his eyes to escape from the tormenting reality, when a figure posed in front of him, and suddenly they didn’t feel so bad.

Muriel had miracled out Crowley's wounds, only the superficial ones as his power was limited, still his hip didn’t hurt anymore, and she felt pretty proud of Muriel for discovering new things. 

— “Wow, already making miracles, huh?”

— “Oh! Well yes, I’ve learned a lot thanks to aziraphale!”. Pain.

— “Is that so?” The angel had visited Muriel but not him. Pain again.

— “Oh well just by reading, Aziraphale’s books really have a lot of him in them” They did. “Besides it's cute how he gives them little names, I feel as if he was talking to me” 

— “Sounds just like him” said the demon in what was intended to sound depreciating, but coming out mourningly.

Thanks to the fact that Muriel keep distracting him from the destructive way his mind been working lately, and to the miracleperformed, Crowley could appreciate the view with detail, he got up and started analyzing the books realizing that a large number of the originals were already gone, pristine new books taking their place, making the place seem stocked, luminous white lights adorning the roof facilitating people that wanted to evaluate what they were about to buy, chairs in all different colors gave a good contrast to the rest of the store and serve as a thoughtful addition for however that wanted to start their treat at that exact moment.

— “Sold much Uriel?”

— “Oh you noticed! Yes, I did, it wasn't that hard really, a lot of people seemed to be very interested, and for some of them they gave me a lot of money, at first I didn’t understand the concept of money, I still don't fully grasped it, you just give it away and people give you back things right?”

— “Pretty much yes”

— “Yes I knew it!, apparently some of them were really rare as they gave me a lot of money from them”

— “You were not supposed to sell them, did you know” said Crowley in a dismal tone

— “Don’t be silly this is a bookshop, that’s what we do”

The demon gave a little laugh both for the way that Muriel’s speak so sure of themselves, and because of a reminder of better times popped up, when the angel would give infinite explanations as to why he couldn't sell his books.

— “True”

The last safe place on earth had crumbled, becoming a new version of what it was, a version not made for Crowley, not in a bad sense, time changes, it's a normal and organic thing that happens, but ever since that kiss he had remained the same, soul forever buried in a place that wasn't there anymore, trapped in the past unable to escape.

After analyzing all, the demon's mind only came with one possible solution, one unique thought, the plan that could make all of this stop, the thing that would get rid of all of his problems.

— “Muriel, could I ask you for something?”

Things have never been more interesting, although the state in which Crowley was, was far from ideal, the peaceful (and boring) sleep had already finished, ever since he woke up he had kept on moving, the demon was on the road and nothing was stopping him. It wasn’t a good thought the one the angel was having, but it was not like he was going to tell anyone about it, after what felt like a zillion years of repeating their actions something was finally happening, of course he felt guilty about enjoying this, but the demon dancing around earth brought him so much pleasure, he just couldn’t hold back, so he indulged one more time for old times’ sake.

As good as it was to have him back the angel realized that everything he had purposefully interfered with one way or another drove the demon into madness, fist that goodbye which leaded him to steal and drink viciously, then the messages on the voicemail, that made him destroy his beloved old machine, and finally not watering the plants became the starter for the destruction of the flat in the hands of its owner, somehow even after all that, after all the mistakes the angel had committed, he still jumped to his Bentley and drove to the library, even after everything he had messed up Crowley still went to him when everything was crashing down.

Aziraphale couldn’t pay as much attention as he would’ve wanted, it was his little secret after all, so he watched her get in the coffee shop when Uriel came and scolded him for not having things ready on time, so he had to pretended to fill out a solicitation form, and while he looked away just for one second, when heaven once again stole the angel away from the demon, Crowley got hit by the car, once his attention drew back to the dark figure on earth he observed it there laying on the ground.

Thankfully for both of them, as one couldn’t stand the pain and the other couldn’t stand seeing him that way, Muriel came out of the library and helped her get back on her feet, doing what Aziraphale so desperately wanted to do.

It wasn’t just a detail that looked different, absolutely everything have changed, even just by taking a look at the entrance the angel felt like he was going to faint. Since he saw Muriel selling the books 3 years ago Aziraphale refused to take a look at his shop, instead of paying attention to his business he focused all of his energy and thoughts to the demon, vigilating, watching over his dreams praying that they wouldn’t become nightmares, keeping vigil on their soft vulnerable state; So to see such a minimalistic place with all the books in metal shelves with bright white lights and those funky chairs, stole all the breath from Aziraphale, his space on earth, the one that he had rightfully owned from many many years was deformed, twisted in the hands of what was assumed to be his successor, change wasn’t wrong of course but no one really asked Aziraphale if these changes could be done. Not that it mattered, first because the only time they asked for his opinion was as a way to show support, he was always part of the statistics never the leader of the campaign, on a second note he would’ve said no; If anyone asked him for permission to change things up he wouldn’t have let them as the bookshop was already perfect as it was, this probably being the reason why no one asked him.

As he was staring at the screen everything slowly became prettier, the harsh image dissolving, the absurd colors mixing, the world was blurry now, a shield his body crated to protect him from his new sad reality, so he embraced it, he let the tears run through his face, play on his cheeks and land on the floor, first one by one but then allowing others to join many of them came and once they arrived it became impossible to make them leave, the only way they left was when they landed on the papers scattered on the ground, but instantly being replaced with a new one that had emerged from that holy eye, just as this was happening Michael came to retrieve the solicitation forms Uriel had sent Aziraphale earlier, when they saw the archangel in an awful state.

— “What is your problem?”

Nothing, Aziraphale wasn't registering any information around him, for once the world was quiet, heaven hell and earth for an instant shut up, they left the angel there, all alone, so he could grieve, grieve the space he lost and his favorite guest there, tears holding onto the past and incredibly terrified of the future.

All of this was wrong, and he couldn’t do anything but watch, that’s what he has been doing all along right? Just watching, watching how Crowley invented those beautiful stars, watching how Crowley tempted those humans all through history, in order to instigate curiosity, to make them made choices, freeing them or dooming them, the ways in which he made sure they live their lifes, that they could exploit their humanity and push them through the edge so that they could break their fragile minds and understand more, ask more, want for more, all of that just using her mind, perhaps putting them a few inconveniences on the way, he was a demon after all, but never doing anything that would truly hurt them, in the end his chore was to observe the humans, to accompany them, and Crowley was a being of word, he would stay there for them. But what had Aziraphale done in that time?, besides enjoy all of the earthly pleasures without giving the humans something in return, of course he was nice, but that was his nature, the sword too but that was so many years ago and he was created to be nice, a few miracles here and there, sometimes not even being committed by him, he was perfect because that’s the way it was intended to be, he was an experiment gone right on every single way; unlike Crowley that put so much effort into defying all the ideas others imposed onto him, that it became incredibly tiring for everyone, especially for herself, if only they inverted that time into being actually evil, they would’ve been Satan's voice already.

If it wasn’t clear before Aziraphale aspire to be like Crowley, but Aziraphale never had to hide, perhaps because of their agreement, but they were equally involved, so if they discovered them (like they did years ago) they would still have the other, but that’s not what he wanted, he wanted to be wise, he wanted to know, he wanted to ASK, he craved the skill that the demon have developed for thousands of years but that he wasn’t able to explore without being punished for, so he could only stare at pages full of knowledge and the demon by his side.

The glimpse of a light ceasing to exist pull him out of his string of thoughts, as he was watching around he realized Michael was standing there and that the earth between them had disappeared.

— “WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM AZIRAPHALE?” Michael repeated yelling.

— “Please put it back on” came out of the angel's throat in a desperate attempt to keep feeding his soul with torment.

— You are not on lookout duty, that's for the angels below, but of course you aren't making your job, are you? I'll be surprised the day you do something! Just look at you, you pathetic excuse of an angel, the only thing you have done is stay in that little store of yours, you have committed more sins than the whole building and word says your faith is as weak as that friends of yours, do you want to end up like him? It would be ridiculously at this point that you would go against any of this, any of us, all the power you hold is thanks to us, everything you have has been given to you by heaven, including that demon you follow around like a puppy, and this is how you repay us? Wasting your time fixated on that screen looking at him, we have been generous but if this continues we might have to do some adjustments.

With each word Michael get closer and closer to Aziraphale’s face, until their noses met their eyes did too, although the archangel eyes were staring deeply into Michael's, Michael was nothing but a white and gold mass in Aziraphale’s crystalline eyes, he was there, but his soul was still on the image trying to rebuild it to its old state of glory, his consciousness was becoming incredibly small to search between the atoms, and then too big to be sorting through galaxies in order to find a glimpse of hope through all this mess. The yells from the most experienced angel make him weak, he wasn’t feeling good and his environment just made him feel worse, he fell into the ground and just like before everything went quiet, Michael was still shouting, or at least that’s what it looked like, their face was moving cheeks all blushed up veins popped and little drops of liquid emanating from their forehead but even like that Aziraphale wasn't listening, he stared in amusement and fear seeing how the universe kept moving but left a passenger behind.

—“Sure sir” said Muriel with a happy voice that accompanied a happier face Crowley was at a loss of words, he wanted, no, needed Muriel to give him an exit, the key to end his suffering once and for all, of course he couldn't pronounce the right words, whatever he said would be wrong, asking for it straight away would be suspicious, Muriel was naive not stupid, they would put two and two together and the last chance the demon had at resting would be gone, a lie could probably come in hand, but would Muriel believe it? He could use the same excuse that they gave Aziraphale so many years ago, there was no reason for Muriel to not believe on him, so she settled for that.

—"you are awfully quiet mister Crowley" said Muriel, breaking the long silence

—"yes I'm sorry kid, it's just, hell has been really pressuring me into becoming the new duke there, but I really don't want to go, I have my life here, and I really like it"

—"so? Just don't go"

—"If it only was that easy, I helped Beelzebub by suggesting the idea that both they and Gabriel should run away to Alpha Centauri, hell saw it as if I had done good, and truly a demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing good, the only way hell could possibly forgive me would be by becoming duke, but even then I don't think they'll completely forget about it, besides I really like it here, it's so cramped downstairs"

—"and in which way could I help you, do you need support?"

—"this happened before, although not exactly like this, a long time ago hell came after me for saving a girl's life, I got what I deserved, and then they returned me back here if I’m honest to you, I was afraid I still am and probably still be for years to come, the only thing helping me was knowing that i-"

—"I’m not giving you holy water" Muriel shouted interrupting Crowley

—"how did you- I already explained it, please" said the demon falling to his knees, begging once more for the unattainable mercy

—"you could hurt yourself" Muriel didn't have any argument, but they knew that what Crowley was doing, or planning to, was wrong, however if hell really was after him, giving her a weapon to protect herself didn't seem out of place, if they caught him then he would suffer more

—"I won't be able to do that if hell gets a hold of me first right? If Aziraphale was here would help me, don't you want to help me"

—"yes I know he would but-" a little bell rang stopping Muriel from finishing his argument “Oh I’m sorry, but I really have to attend that, I’ll be with you in a second okay, make yourself comfortable” with every word the voice drifted more and more away, pleased with a new person looking to buy a book.

Crowley was still looking in awe to all the changes, pacing himself in the new version of his old place, until they found a chair that looked comfortable enough and decided to lay there for a while, thinking and awaiting Muriel's return, sometime passed, and the sun started moving, revealing a new hidden addition, instead of the old wood floors there was now perforated metal floor on the second level, however instead of the usual little circular holes there were tiny little stars that reflected all over the bookshop once the sun was in the right position, painting a big galaxy, Crowley was amused by this, the chair had proof to be comfortable enough, and with a simple miracle the lights had dimmed out, this wasn't bad, not bad at all, this was the first time on the past days that the demon hadn't felt badly, a few moments later Muriel returned happier than how they left.

—"did you sell it?" said Crowley

—"I did!!!, in fact I sold 3 of them" squeaked Muriel happily

—"amazing job" Crowley replied proudly

— "big fan of the stars by the way"

—"oh well of course you liked them, they were inspired by you"

—"were they?"

—"yeah, again I really learned a lot of stuff from those letters that Aziraphale wrote to his friend"

—"what friend?" it was intended to come out as curious, but the words were lingered with a jealous tone

—"diary, you should take a look" said Muriel while looking for them, three volumes stacked one on top of each other, "these are the first ones, you might like them, after all, every time you appear something exciting happens"

Crowley miracled a little table so that the books wouldn't stand on the floor and quickly prepared himself to read whatever this proved to be.

There it was, another reminder of his angel, this probably being the last one, so either for torture or for closure Crowley make himself comfortable again and began reading the memoir of his one true love, with stars surrounding him, somehow getting back the only things he ever loved, and we're taken away from him, in a new changed way.

The book contained every event worth telling in Aziraphale’s life, meaning every time he had reunited with Crowley in the last 6000 years, and a mismatched bundle of his other accomplishments, like a guide on how he bought the library, a very proudly passage expressing how he passed his driving test, and a list of pros and cons of owning a firearm.

All these events were narrated in a way that made Crowley doubt himself, the core of the facts remain the same, but the details changed drastically, the demon was now able to see through the angel eyes, small details that for him did not mean anything were whole pages in there, cruelty and misfortune bloomed into acts of hope and resilience as Azi wrote, it was truly breathtaking to read the way in which the angel thought, this made Crowley miss him in an inhuman way.

Hanging onto those pages as if they were the angel itself, the desperate way in which he was holding an insignificant piece of paper demonstrated that he wanted to touch something else, that he was starved from it, he needed it, he was careful with it of course, it was a strong cautious grip, he kept holding them for a while, with the hope that maybe if he held them hard enough those texts would morph into the being that wrote them, he spent there several minutes, or maybe hours, he didn't care, and as he spent more and more time holding them she noticed that his scent was still there, very faint and almost odorless but still there, he could have stay there for weeks hugging this new treasure and smelling the angels barely noticeable scent until something called his attention, next to the other two books a small crystal bottle filled with a clear liquid seemed to appear out of nowhere.