Chapter Text
Crowley drove fast and for hours, not really knowing where he was going and the very fresh memory of Aziraphale getting in that elevator torturing him.
He still couldn't believe it. After all this time, after the way they have treated him for, well, forever. The angel still chose heaven over him.
The Bentley stopped abruptly and Crowley was launched forward, his head bumping against the wheel.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” asked, rubbing his forehead.
The car roared at him and turned off, a little smoke coming out of the exhausted engine.
Crowley grunted, took off his glasses and threw them to the passenger’s seat letting his head fall back, just as exhausted as the Bentley.
He closed his eyes for a moment just to see the face of the angel as he left, and immediately opened them. It was like a nightmare, but he was awake, and it was real.
“Idiot, we could’ve been us. Just us. Why you left? Why?” He asked looking up. “Now it's just… it's just me again, isn’t it? Is this my real punishment? Been alone, for eternity?” Only silence as an answer. As ever.
He was alone. Like most of his existence as a demon, except, Aziraphale was on earth too. They saw each other every couple of years, other times decades would pass; however, they always found each other.
Crowley was never truly completely alone and the Armageddon’s failure let him have the little hope he never allowed himself to have that maybe, just maybe, they could be together.
He felt like an idiot believing that a happy ending was possible like in the stupid movies and the even more stupid novels his angel read.
Crowley let a sigh go. His angel.
Aziraphale was his angel, only his, how dare they took him away.
But they didn’t kidnap him, did they? He went willingly, or so it looked like.
And he was alone. Really alone.
He felt his eyes burned, tears threatening to fall. He was not going to cry, he’s a demon for hell's sake, demons do not cry.
He took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay, and a salty smell got to him. Turning his head to the window, he notice the Bentley stopped at the foot of a small hill that led to a little white cottage. Behind it, not too far away, he could see the beach and the sun starting to set in the horizon.
He has seen a view like this before. In a painting, one drunken night with Aziraphale.
Actually, many nights were spent with his angel, with lots of drinking, which led to absurd conversations and fits of laughter.
He loved to make Aziraphale laugh.
But the locked down has prevented them of getting together for a while, even if they weren’t in real danger, the Angel wanted to make a good example to his neighbors and had forbidden Crowley of coming by. The demon could not care less about the neighbors, but he didn’t want to upset Aziraphale.
Finally, restrictions were lifted and Crowley got his hands on a couple bottles of a delicious vintage wine for them to enjoy. Aziraphale was more than happy when the demon showed up.
Two hours and two bottles of wine later, they sat in the back room sofa, quite closer than they would acknowledge, falling in a comfortable silence after a while.
The angel stared at the wall in front of them and Crowley played with the last bit of wine in his glass.
“That looks nice.” Aziraphale pointed to a painting in the wall.
“Whot?” Crowley look at the painting. It looked a little blurry to him. “Guess a nice painting, Angel.” He paused for a second and wondered aloud. “Has it always been there?”
“No, no the painting.” The Angel frowned thinking. “I mean yes it is, but I was talkin bout this, see?” He got up and walked, if that could be called walking, to the paint. “This” he put his finger on the canvas.
“That is a painting.” mocked Crowley with a smile. It was fun, and cute, to watch the angel get frustrated, he had missed this.
“Noo” Whined Aziraphale and started pocking the painting over and over. “Thiiiss,” his finger making a circle around something the demon couldn’t see well.
Crowley got up, too fast and the room did not spin a little bit, not at all.
He walked to painting, the angel’s finger still doing circles over it. Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand stopping him and now he could see the image clearly.
Aziraphale was pointing at a small white cottage by the sea, surrounded by a large garden, with the sun on the horizon on a sky adorned with different shades of orange.
“You mean the house?”
“A cottage, yees.” Aziraphale smiled dreamily. “Isn't it lovely?”
The Angel observed fondly at the painting not noticing Crowley’s gaze on him.
The demon was looking fascinated at Aziraphale. How did he survived so long without seeing him everyday?
“Yeah, it is” said Crowley softly.
Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley. Their eyes locked on each other for a second then the angel lower his eyes and blushed. Crowley followed his gaze and blushed too realizing he never let go of the angel’s hand and was gently rubbing it with his thumb.
“I would like to go there someday.” Aziraphale squeeze Crowley’s hand, eyes still down.
“Yeah” Crowley pulled him a little bit closer making the angel look up locking eyes with him again.
“May… maybe, walk by the beach.” stammered Aziraphale as they got closer.
“Ujum” Crowley was focused on the angel’s lips now. His heart was beating fast.
“Crowley…” Aziraphale´s eyes going from the demons lips to his eyes.
“Aziraphale” Crowley whispered closed enough for Aziraphale to feel his breath on his lips.
“We should sober up” Aziraphale pulled away letting go of his hand, taking distance from the demon.
Disappointed but not surprised by the Angel putting distance between them, Crowley looked away and did as told, however, his heart did not slow down after the alcohol left his body, and his hand felt empty.
Crowley didn't want to make him uncomfortable, except it was too late. Aziraphale was fidgeting and looking everywhere but the demon.
The words “You go to fast for me Crowley” ringing in his mind.
“Guess I better go Angel.” He grabbed his glasses and headed for the door.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale called him. He turned around to see the angel, less fidgety, but still not quite calmed down, “Dinner tomorrow? My treat.”
“You sure angel?” Aziraphale seamed hesitant but nodded. “´key, see you tomorrow”.
They went for dinner the next night. And Crowley kept coming by at least once a day every day.
The days he didn’t show up, Aziraphale would call him claiming he was bored, wanted to show him something, or when something was wrong.
Something wrong only happened once, and then everything went to fucking hell, well, heaven.
Because Aziraphale, no matter that he was gone, was still Crowley´s everything.
A knock on the passenger’s windows brought him back to the present. A smiley young woman was waving her hand greeting him.
Crowley looked at the cheerful expression of the woman and groaned. He was in no mood to deal with cheerie people.
He quickly put his glasses on and pulled the window down.
"What?!" Asked Crowley so loud that the women jump and her smile faltered, however she did not backed out. Instead, she gave him an even bigger smile as a response.
"Hello! I'm Eden, I live in Little Lamb over there," she pointed to a small cottage in the distance, "are you interested in End Road?"
"What the hell is End Road?" Asked Crowley looking around.
She pointed at the cottage Crowley had been seeing.
"That's the name of this cottage, is not very clever I know.” She kept on smiling while talking. “This road used to end here, hence the name. Mine was built many years later as the ones that you can see there." Crowley followed her gaze and saw few more cottages down the road. "End Road has been for sale for a couple of years, but no one seemed to be interested, until now." She then looked hopefully at Crowley. "Are you?"
Crowley examined End Road. He could see why was still for sale.
The garden was a disaster; the grass was brown and grown way over what was left of the fence.
The cottage itself was a whole other mess. The paint almost completely gone with a large hole in the roof.
It needed it work, lots of it.
Crowley wouldn't get a place that needed it renovations. He actually wasn’t planning to get a place of his own. His old apartment was owned by Hell and he kept it the same way since he started living in it. And the biggest house chore he did has wattering the plants.
Yet, he wanted to get away from London. He needed a distraction.
What better distraction that an almost destroyed cottage ready for anyone to fix.
He tapped his fingers in the wheel thoughtfully and the looked at the expectant woman.
"Yeah, I'm interested."