Chapter Text
de·ni·al
/dəˈnī(ə)l/
noun
-the action of declaring something to be untrue.
-the refusal of something requested or desired.
Anthony J. Crowly was never and would never be a good person, although to be exact he is a demonic entity not a person. He liked setting things on fire, a nice queen song, maybe a bit of torturing the damned from time to time with light pranks and good humor. Throughout the Great War things went well for the demon. He found a suitable place in the ranks and found out he did quite well in battle, given the angels were not using those bloody haloes yet. But then Satan in his almighty power decided to send Crowly to earth at the beginning and only then did the demon's life truly turn to absolute shit.
So Satan in his almighty power sent Crowley to “get up there and make some trouble”. A thing Crowley was quite good at. Plus it was only an apple, he would argue for years to come over wine at the Ritz, it's not like it was anything important. But the demon had no clue that the most trouble he would be making was for himself. That was the first time Crowley really remembers meeting Aziraphale back on that wall. Talking about right and wrong, poking at him for losing the flaming sword, Aziraphale worrying about doing the wrong thing. Crowley was sure there was something different about this angel, but he was not quite sure what it was.
A couple hundred years later Aziraphale would talk about how they met before the beginning when Crowley was a happy little angel with poofy hair and a smile that looked like it had to hurt. But Crowley didn't remember much of this time so he doesn't really count it.
It was inevitable really that the pair would be the only two of their respective kinds to be on earth. Crowley trying to bring around mayhem and destruction for the new humans, and Aziraphale doing the opposite.
It took a few centuries before the pair finally realized they were put on earth to cancel each other out, and that it would be much easier for both of them if they worked together lying to their bosses along the way. But Aziraphale never liked calling it lying, the angel preferred ‘with holding certain information for the greater good’ but Crowley knew what he meant and let him stick to it anyways, only holding a reluctant smile anytime it was said.
So once in a while Aziraphale would cause some light trouble in France as he passes through making the cosmic scale shift darker, but Crowly on the other hand would be going through England and whisper something about natural law to a duke over drinks and make it shift right back. Together the earth would be neither Evil nor Good. It was at a balance.
Long story short, after that a baby got swapped, the antichrist calmed his shit, they got fired, an archangel showed up naked at Aziraphale’s door, had a Jane Austen themed battle with Crowly’s replacement, their former bosses fell in love and ran off to a nebula of Crowley's own design.
And over that time things grew between the pair. Crowely adventally got sick of pretending that they were not on the same side when that was the only side either of them wanted to be on. And when they were fired for defying Heaven and Hell it finally felt like they were.
After all of that the demon got some sense in him from Nina and Maggie. How he didnt see it (or try and not see it) for so long was hard to imagine. Six thousand years of time wasted but no matter, they could have the future, they could have eternity together. An eternity full of dinner at the Ritz, and creps, drives in the Bently, hanging around in the book shop, coffee with Nina and Maggie because Aziraphale would never let them fall out of contact. Lifetimes full of happiness together. Just them. On earth.
If Gabriel and Beelzebub could do it, why couldn't they?
That would bring you up to precisely one minute fifty three seconds ago when the Angel stood with the Demon in his bookshop and offered a place in heaven to the Demon just when he finally would say something. The stupid Metatron just had to offer him that job. And then Aziraphale had the nerve to ask Crowley to be an angel again? It made Crowley feel as if his head was about to explode “I don't think you understand what I'm offering you” The angel said as if anything he was saying was obvious. No, bullshit Crowley thought. Heaven had screwed them over countless times. Was Crowley worth nothing to him then?
“I understand” Crolwey said begging for no tears to fall, how was Aziraphale this stupid? How was this the angel he had learned to love so dearly? “And I understand a whole lot better than you do.”
Aziraphale seemed to regain his composure , not that it had left for very long, now speaking as if this were some contract not their fucking lives. “Well- then there’s nothing more to say.”
Crowley wanted to laugh. Or maybe cry. Six thousand fucking years for nothing, they fucking diverted the apocalypse for Cri- Sat- someones sake! “Listen, hear that?” the demon asked, frustrating the angel.
“I don't hear anything,” he spit out in response.
Crowley would have laughed if not so heartbroken. “That’s the point.” he paused for a second more for dramatic effect than anything “No nightingales,” he paused again in thought this time “you idiot… we could have been an us.”
The demon knew full well that kissing the angel at a time like this was stupid, more than stupid deadly. But he couldn't just do nothing, could he? Just watch his angel waltz back up the stairs all happy and go lucky without showing him what they could have had if he had just stayed.
18 seconds. That's how long the time for light to travel 5.4 million kilometers.
The angel pulled back in shock. He wanted to say something, anything else “I forgive you…” Aziraphale felt like only a sHell of who Crowley knew.
Time slowed for a moment and Crowley missed every moment of their time together, every laugh, every smile, every joke that didn't land. He was his best friend- his only friend. But that didn't matter because Crowley cared about his angel more than he cared about anyone else in the entire universe. He took one last look soaking in all the good, with some of the bad seeking in. He didn't know what happened to his Aziraphale because whoever was standing there in front of Crowley was not him.
But Crowley was already on his heels, leaving the room as he said as if an afterthought “Don't bother.” with a final jingle of the rare book shop’s bell and a slam of the door he was gone. Just gone. No more late night or magic shows, no bailing each other out of corners or getting stalked by zombies. No more anything, no more them. Crowley never saw the tears the angel blinked back or the hand being drawn to his lips in shock. And he definitely didn't hear the silent plea from the angel begging to just do it again, be human for one more second, for one more time.
Aziraphale was left in the middle of the book shop alone. His mouth still hung slightly open and he drew his hand covering it. How foolish of him to indulge in human desires and to be tempted by the demon… again. He was risking too much so maybe it was best that Crowley left, maybe he was too much of a distraction for the new archangel. No he was definitely too much of a distraction. He was a demon after all, the definition of evil, of bad, of everything Aziraphale was against.
It was foolish to associate with him in the first place. In what world could an angel and a demon be friends? It was stupid to start this in the first place. An angel and a demon friends? They were like oil and water: they could never mix and one keeps everything alive while the other burns everything down. Black and white, good and bad, day and night, up and down, hot and cold, lawful and chaotic, love and hate. An angel and a demon. It would never work.
Only if Crowley would have just become an angel again this whole mess could have been avoided. Heaven was good, the plan was good, angels were good. Aziraphale was good. And Crowley was bad. The angel had to learn that quickly but it never sat right with him. It never felt true.
The store bell jingled again “How did he take it?” the Metatron asked cheerfully.
“Uh” Aziraphale responded regaining his composure once more “not well”
“Ah well always did want to go his own way, always asking dumb questions too,” The Metatron paused, scanning the bookshop “ready to start?”
“I, um my book shop”
“Uh yes” almost as if on cue the 39th ranking angel of Heaven popped into the window waving happily “well for now i have entrusted it to Murial it shall be in good hands”
“I hun” Aziraphale looked for something to keep him here, but nothing came to mind.
The Metatron turned towards the door clearly ready to leave “anything you need to take with you?”
Aziraphale went to take a look around his shop, his home “No nothing I can think of…” that was a lie, he was missing crowley, he if had just come this would have been so much easier “I think I-” made a mistake that's all he wanted to say but when The Metatron turned around and looked at him he lost it and put on a smile “...nothing at all”
The Metatron smiled and opened the door for the newly appointed Supreme Archangel.
Crowlely watched standing by his car door as his angel followed The Metatron. They were talking but Crowley couldn't hear a word, not that he would want to from a dirty fiend like The Metatron. The sad part was nine times out of ten Crowley loved dirty fiends. For a second Aziraphale looked scared but then smiled again. Why the Hell did his angel keep on that damn perfect smile? Crowley half hoped and half expected Aziraphale to turn around and run back. But he didn't. It was almost like he was making a point not to look at Crowley.
There was simply no way his angel left him for that fluffy cloud empire. There was no way that Crowley wasn't enough, he had been enough for six thousand years. There was no way the angel was leaving, not now, not ever.
The doors to the elevator closed as they left.
Crowley sighed and stepped in the car sliding in the keys. The Bently put on the most positively ironic song. Crowley turned off the radio as he pulled out of his parking spot. Six thousand years they went along with the plan, the ineffable plan, as far as each other could. But in the end they always choose one another. Until now. Now it was all shit apparently.
The elevator doors closed.
Crowley got further from the city, past the M25, and out of england. He just needed to get out, out of the book shop, out of England, out of the content, Hell maye out of the solar system. But for now he drove and drove with the shere numb force of his engine. He had miracled the engine long ago so that he would not need to fill it up. As he drove, tears threatened to fall from the demon's face as he pushed on the gas pedal, the Bentley speedometer started ticking from 60, to 70, to 80, 100, 150. It was pure luck that the demon was alone on the abandoned stretch of highway but he didnt care. He didn't even think much of it really. He shook clutching the steering wheel as the Bentley screamed in pain but for a brief second he didn't care. He didn't care about anything. ‘Get out’ his brain pleaded ‘GET OUT!’ He drove faster and faster until he reached the max speed of 208 kph. How could his angel leave, he didn't even want to leave did he? No he must have been tricked or poisoned or something! Anything! There was no world Crowley could wrap his mind around where Aziraphale would just leave!
His eyes widened in shock as he realized what he was doing to his car. He slammed on the breaks as the brakes squeaked and came to a stop. and sat frozen catching his breath as he hit his head on the wheel. “I’m sorry” he murmured as he rubbed his head “I’m so sorry” he then ran his hand across the dashboard making the car settle with the miracle. “Fuck I’m so sorry”
What was he even doing? It wasn't like he could run from the angel if the angel wasn't even on earth. But every second he spent close to that book shop he couldn't shake the angel off his shoulder. He needed to leave and maybe that would be easier than he thought.
When the elevator doors to heaven opened revealing the sleek white empty office of the greater power. Aziraphale crossed the threshold and his clothes were transformed into his angelic ones. There was not much of a difference but the colors became all white and for some reason felt tighter, if he was in his human form it would have made his skin crawl. “Why is he here?!” Michael spit out storming over as if Aziraphale were vermin. Barely half an hour ago they were in the middle of threatening Aziraphale’s life now he they stood on the same side.
“We have found Gabriel’s replacement.'' The Metatron spoke calmly and happily.
“Him?!” Ureil screamed. Aziraphale on any other day would have smirked but this was not the time for that.
“Well yes.”
“But, don't you think that…” Michael shook their head and clutched their fist close to the Metatron as is about to grab on to his shirt and beg. “some of us have more experience I mean I performed the job perfectly well-”
“When were you appointed Supreme Archangel?” he asked and this time a small smile creeped through Aziraphales lips. Michael looked at him. He went back to a neutral expression.
Michael stood proudly and boasted “In Gabriel’s absence I took it upon myself to fulfill his duties to perfection.”
“If i may your grace” Saraqael cut in “I think that some of us are better fits then anyone in the past, personally I believe I am a better fit for I am-”
“You grace will all due respect” Sandalphon tried “but-”
“Enough!” The Metatron yelled “Shall we try this again?” the archangels stayed silent “Meet your new Supreme Archangel you are to treat him with the same respect you treat me or you treated Gabriel. Understood?”A small line of agreement followed “now everyone to the Celestial War Room” but when no one moved still gawking at Aziraphale so the mediron added “let's get going then.”
Looking Aziraphale right in the eyes Michaelnodded “yes your grace, lets.” but Azerehel paid no mind to the archangels' bitterness; he was excited enough to finally see the inside of the Celestial War Room. It was grand among the more middle angels to get to see the big room where all the big angelic decisions were made. It was also rumour that God themself had been in the room multiple times (that is a big deal if you cannot tell).
Aziraphale poised at the doorway and fixed his coat before stepping in, Michael rolled their eyes and Urial elbowed them. “Is that the actual book of life?” Aziraphale asked the second the doors opened and he ran over to the book on the stone pillar, making the Metatron smile.
“Yes yes it is,” the Metatron looked over at Aziraphale who was smiling widely and holding his hands close like he was afraid to break it. “Would you like to touch it?”
“No I mustn't…” maybe the angel had been tempted far too much throughout his life because he just couldn't resist “Can I?”
“Yes of course.”
For Aziraphale, finally seeing the crisp white pages was the equivalent of a human meeting their favorite author. Well, Aziraphale knew that joy was well but that wasn't the point. He ran his hand across the Book of Life in all its glory, shocked by all that held inside it: who is good and who is evil ]were all predisposed in these very pages. God had touched the book themself. And now it sat under Aziraphale’s hand.
Maybe this will work. Aziraphale didn't need earth or humanity, nor did he need rare books, coco, dinner at the Ritz with…
Oh,
He hadn't thought of Crowley at all.
The Archangel now thought about what would have happened if Crowley just switched to the light. He was so much happier as an angel making his stars. Aziraphale could see the star room from his seat in the War Room (when he finally stopped ogling at The Book of Life). Aziraphale wondered about the hours spent there, maybe with Saraquel or maybe a future demon. Maybe he spent hour upon hour plotting and planning with that stick thing Aziraphale never bothers to ask the name of. How he wished he had now.
Why did Crowley not want to be happy again? Happy together this time, in heaven. What could be better?
“Would you like to have a seat Aziraphale?” The Metatron asked from the head of the table.
“Yes of course” everyone else was already seated, each looking disgusted. But throughout the entire meeting Aziraphale kept glancing back at the star room lost in thought.
Wasps filled the Bentley right then as Crowley was caught trying to swat them away in annoyance. Honestly Hell could choose anyway to get people down there and they always chose bugs. Not now, he begged, to himself, or to God, maybe even Satan. He did not know. The wasps consumed Crowley and pulled him downward into Hell within a second. He landed in a chair across from Shax who sat sprawled in a large black throne. The walls of the room were tiled and filthy, the lights were dim and flickering. A rather old looking bathtub also sat near the back with a swarm of demons behind glass gawking and cheering amongst themselves. Shax had on an all too revealing red dress with feathers at the coller. “Always a pleasure Shax,” Crowley said with a bitter smile and a heart full of hate “you could have called first you know.”
She scoffed from her throne “Please we have always loathed each other-”
“Sarcasm Ma’am.” one of the demons by her side cut in like a fish out of water. Lord of Hell Shax scrunched up her face and with a flick of her wrist the demon went flying until they hit a wall. Shax smiled.
“Enough!”she laughed, going back to her cold smirk “I don't think you understand what is going on here, this place was once built for your trial only fitting it will be your place of final damnation.”
“A bit dramatic isn't it?”
Ignoring him, the newly appointed Lord of Hell smiles. Crowley had never missed Beelzebub more. “Read off his crimes Dear.”
“You never officially got the job you know,” Dagon muttered bitterly from their much smaller seat but Shax gave them one look and they shook their heads and grunted "Yes your majesty” and with a puff of black smoke they held a dark almost burnt scroll. “Switching the antichrist prevented armageddon” though not on purpose, Crowley could see why they would think it was even though the notion could still make his blood boil. Well, that was if he had any blood. “The murder of a Duke of Hell” Crowley could laugh at the memory of the holy water and the sound of Hasher and Listers screams. The demons behind the glass murmured to each other and Crowley thought back to what he was going to have for dinner. He would go to the Ritz but…
“Conspiring with an archangel against Hell” Cowely was shocked at how fast Aziraphale’s title changed and it hurt a little that they wouldn't be conspiring together any time soon. In the future maybe. No, it has to happen again. Crowley wouldn't be able to live with himself if it didn't happen again. He had to come back.
Dagon continued to read off Crowley's many supposed offenses, most of which Crowley disagreed with heavily. How was iInexplicably and constantly misplacing all the celestial office pens on his list of offenses? After 15 minutes Crowley stopped listening but didn't stop mouthing off to any demon that came and left the room for nothing but his own amusement.
Any punishment that he could think would happen to him for his crimes didn't matter anymore. Nothing really matters anymore. Aziraphale left. Aziraphale left him. What could be worse than that the demon did not know. He felt empty at this point he could go back to working with Hell, maybe that would get the angel to come back. Or maybe he could storm back into Heaven taking his angel back himself. He wouldn't just do nothing, he knew that much.
Crowley ended up so stuck in his head that he missed the last one on the list.
“Could you repeat that?” the demon asked with a cheeky grin just wanting to piss her off a bit.
Shax sighed and yelled “Demons of Hell you have heard the crimes of Crowley what is your verdict?!”
A chorus of “Guilty Guilty Guilty” came back through the glass. Shax nodded for 2 demons to grab Crowley by the arms “Getting a bit handsy don't you think?”
Shax’s grin widened “And as punishment for your crimes you are fired from Hell and-.”
“I already wasn't working for you.” Crowley pointed out but was ignored.
The Lord grew annoyed “I am aware of that, I'm talking about something far worse.” bloody psychopath she was. But Crowley wasn't too worried. In the grand scheme of celestial mischief, he had danced on the razor's edge before. This, he thought, would just be a rather good twist of the cosmic waltz. And honestly quite a good distraction.
“What are you going to do? Disincorporate me?” he scoffed “We both know how that worked last time.” not really for him but for Aziraphale. Crowley was sure that if they threw him in a bathtub with holy water this time he would melt into a pile of demonic slime. Demonic slime no matter which demon it was never smelled good and was a pain in the ass to get out of the carpets.
“Far worse” she smiled like a finance broker finally getting a gun that shot bullets, not paintballs.
With a slight nod two demons, both of which Crowely did not know the name, took him by the arms dragging him from the room. The truly funny thing was that Crowley never wanted to be a demon in the first place. One day he was just minding his own business when Lucifer and his gang came along talking about how poor the food had been lately and how things were growing a bit boring weren't they? Next thing he knew he was being thrown into a boiling pot of sulfur then had some tattoos and yellow eyes.
Crowley was dragged kicking and making rude comments, but the oddly strong demons had in far too tight a hold. Crowley now wished he was assigned a less lanky body. After walking through the main floor of Hell being dragged past many of the damned who seemed to be just like him now. Whatever lay next could feel him coming and roared with anticipation and for the first time Crowely couldn't think his way out.
All the way in heaven Aziraphale couldn't shake a feeling of unease but he tried to ignore it as best he could. Aziraphale was already in his first meeting with the archangels, none of which liked him very much. In Heaven all the humans linger in the clouds laughing and smiling joyously almost agelessly. They were happier than Aziraphale had ever seen a person on earth. Surely if heaven could make the humans this happy then how could any of their intentions be wrong.
Or at least that's what Aziraphale thought. Follow the ineffable plan and things would work out. Even the second coming.
The way it was explained to Aziraphale was they were just hitting reset to adventally defeat Hell in the second Great War. And when they did they would put humans back on earth but without Hell's influence of evil tendencies and temptations. All humans would be as pure and happy as the souls in heaven. Everything would be good. Temporary inconvenience for the greater good.
But the only way to get that to happen was to get the humans currently on Earth out of the way first.
Heaven had learned three things from putting the sons of both God and Satan on Earth. Having the specimen grow up with the humans was far too much of a risk, look at what happened with Adam; he was raised by humans and never brought Armageddon, he even defied his father. No one wanted that happening again. The second thing they learned was that maybe male was not the way to go with the second coming of Christ. Maybe they needed a female human this time. Hell would be expecting a son and wouldn't be able to stop Hevan giving Heaven the upper hand. And the last thing they learned was that Heaven would never let the child out of sight this time. Make sure they follow through. Heaven couldn't risk it.
As the meeting wrapped up and the archangels slowing dispersed the Metatron asked for Saraquel to hang back for a second along with Aziraphale “could you please show the supreme archangel his desk for me i'm afraid i have a meeting with the man upstairs to get to.”
Saraquel nodded a bit and responded “of course my grace” they sighed “it would be my pleasure.”
As Aziraphale fallowed Sarapuel through the all too complicated hallways of Heaven and Crowely was dragged through the 9 circles of Hell they both thought of Earth and of life. But mostly of the inconvenience of celestial bureaucracy.