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Chapter Text

Crowley was standing in his apartment, pondering his plants, contemplating which abomination of caffeine and sugar he would get the next time at Ninas coffee shop, thinking about everything but… Everything but… Did that plant have a dark spot? Crowley bent down into the forest of quivering leaves to examine it more closely. In that moment, the doorbell rang.

The demon ripped the door open, expecting a poor, mislead mailman he would put the fear of Satan in. Instead, he was greeted by a figure in white that flinched when he ripped the door open. Crowleys eyes wandered over the ridiculous hat and the stiff posture, way too rigid for a human. “Muriel. What do you want?” The angel needed three tries, before she got the words out: “It´s he, I mean him. He´s back, and he´s … I mean, he seems to be not so, I mean…” “Spit it out!” Crowley ripped the glasses from his eyes to bore them into the angel´s. Muriel flinched once again and stood up even straighter. “It´s Aziraphale. He´s in the bookshop. And he doesn´t seem to do so”, Crowley rushed past her, hearing the last word already halfway to his car: “well.”

***

Crowley didn´t know how he had gotten to the bookshop. He just stood in front of the familiar door all of a sudden, cars still honking in the background. Then he stopped. Muriel hadn´t said why she had come to him. How would he even know if Aziraphale wanted to see him? Hell, he didn´t even know if he wanted to see Aziraphale. The pain that he had desperately tried to repress flared up again. The anger. The desperation. But if he was honest with himself (and he hated being honest with himself), there was nothing on this whole planet that came even close to meaning as much to him as the person behind that closed door. His treacherous heart threw itself against his ribcage, trying to escape and make its way to Aziraphale by itself. So he took a step forward and turned the doorknob.

The door swung open. At first, he didn´t see anything, the book shop seemed empty. The orderly rows, more orderly than during all the years that Aziraphale had owned it, glared at Crowley. But a rustle drew his attention to the shadows between the shelves, and a heap of white cloth. Or a heap of white cloth and white feathers. Topped with a disheveled head of white-blond locks. Crowley was already halfway across the room when he realized that he hadn´t been invited in, he didn´t give a damn though, when he sunk onto the floor, next to his, what? Friend? Lost love? Enemy? No, never enemy.
“Angel, what´s wrong? Are you hurt? Is there anyone in here?” Aziraphale´s head shot up, Crowley got one look at flushed, tear-stained face, then Aziraphale throw himself at him and buried his face in the demon´s leather jacket. Crowley froze. The angel´s arms were wrapped tightly around his waist and for a second, all Crowley could feel was the absence of that horrible longing that had plagued him for years. Then he snapped his fingers and the door closed softly behind them.

Crowley waited until Aziraphale had cried himself out, carefully petting the angel´s back and shoulders, not knowing what to say. Then, the angel seemed to come to his senses and pulled away, not meeting Crowley´s eyes. With a stammered apology, he got up, stumbling and unsecure on his feet. He held onto the bookshelves as he made his way to the back of the shop. Crowley, not knowing what else to do, followed him cautiously.

***

Aziraphale sat down, wiping his nose unceremoniously on his sleeve and looked down at his lap, sniffling. Crowley sat down in the armchair, silently cherishing the feeling of sinking back into the familiar fabric. He was so lost in memories that he missed it when Aziraphale finally spoke. “Excuse me, what?” Aziraphale looked up for a second, but didn´t seem to be able to meet Crowley´s eyes. “I said, say it already!” The demon frowned. “Say what?” The angel seemed to fight the words in his throat for a second. “I told you so. You can say it already.” Crowley needed a second to process the words, but then anger flared up so unexpected and forceful, he didn´t catch his own movement until he was in Aziraphale´s face and spitting out his hurt in a current of flaming words: “You don´t get to do that, angel. You don´t get to leave me here for years, throwing me away like a third edition, never even send word how you were doing, just forgetting about the past 6000 years and then you come back and me, the fool, being here, because you are, and then you suggest I came to gloat! If that is honestly all you have to say to me, then I´ll leave and I will not come back!” Crowley panted and glared into Aziraphale´s face, but he had clenched his eyes shut and turned his face away from Crowley. Then Crowley realized the angel was shivering. No, shaking. Shaking in front of him. He was scared of him. Crowley was so shocked, he pushed himself away from Aziraphale as fast as possible, but Aziraphale stretched out a hand after him. “Don´t leave! Please don´t leave me! I didn´t mean it like that, all I wanted to say was that I know that you were right. You have a right to gloat, because you were right all along, and I was the fool. I left for heaven for nothing, it changed nothing except hurting the one friend that has always been by my side. You. Please, don´t leave me, even though I deserve it.” Crowley stayed, his anger evaporating. Unsure of what to do, he sat down and for a while they were silent, unsaid words and unacknowledged emotions rich in the air between them.

When he couldn´t take it anymore, Crowly summoned two glasses of wine and put one down in front of Aziraphale, who clung to it like a lifeline. “So, what actually happened?” Aziraphale clenched his eyes shut, as if that would protect him from the memories. “I thought I could change their minds, focus back on the mission of bringing light and truth to the world. Make it a better place. A happier one. Full of hope and… and lo…” he had to swallow twice before he could get it out: “Full of love.” The angel cleared his throat. “But they, Michael and Uriel, they didn´t want to hear. They didn´t want to listen. To change anything. They… one of them would say one thing and the other one something else, sending me on endless chases through heaven and earth and all I… everything I did not get to during that, or everything that had been wrong all along, it was my fault. They made everything my fault, and the other angels, they didn´t know better, and they believed them. And they,” Aziraphale´s words got swallowed by his sobs. He pressed out the last sentences as a cry of utter desperation. “They put me before a tribunal. And banished me!” He buried his face in his hands and Crowley stretched out his hand, but then the demon froze. His blood seemed to solidify in his veins, he couldn´t move, couldn´t think, couldn´t even avert his eyes, as a pair of wings unfolded behind Aziraphale´s back. Wings, black as a cloudless midnight sky. The angel finally looked at Crowley, with eyes as red as the wine in their glasses.

Crowley didn´t know what to say. He sat, frozen, flabbergasted, as the world tilted in its axis. This wasn´t right. This was the most wrong thing that had ever happened. If there was any creature in the whole of existence that deserved to be called angel, it was the one in front of him. That Aziraphale should be a demon, no, that couldn´t be. Aziraphale, trustful to the point of stupidity, hopeful to the point of naiveté, kindest soul alive (or something alike), he couldn´t be a demon. Crowley shuddered at the thought of what would happen to him if he showed up in hell like that. But that was not important right now. Crowley moved across the room, slowly, deliberately, to not spook the (fallen?) angel, and kneeled down in front of him. “Aziraphale, look at me.” Aziraphale clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. Crowley stretched out his hand, hesitated, and then slowly cradled the angel´s cheek in his palm. The skin was damp and a bit sticky and warm to the touch and the demon wanted to vibrate out of his skin. But he forcefully repressed every reaction to the touch and just focused on Aziraphale. “Please, angel, look at me.” “I´m not an angel anymore!” And finally, Aziraphale was looking at Crowley. “I´m not an angel anymore”, he whispered, and Crowley wanted to drown in the burgundy depths. The red looked so wrong in Aziraphale´s kind face, but they were still Aziraphale´s eyes, and so, Crowley couldn´t look away. “Honestly, at this point, what does it say about you to be shunned by heaven? Surely not that you are a bad person. Only that you don´t go along with their corruption and have more spine than them. In some way, it´s a compliment, really.” Aziraphale didn´t smile, but his lips twitched. “I did like the white better, though. And the blue as well.” Crowley smiled up at him. “It did suit you. But I don´t mind the change.” This time, Aziraphale did smile. “I would guess so, foul demon.” Crowley chuckled and then he realized that his hand was still laying on Aziraphale´s cheek. He pulled away, but the angel caught his hand and put it back against his face. He leaned into the demon´s palm and Crowley´s heart swelled, until it took his breath away. Hope fluttered wildly in his chest. Aziraphale looked at him, unafraid for the first time that day. “I´m glad you´re here. Thank you for coming. And I´m so, so sorry that I left you in the first place.” Crowley swallowed hard, but his voice was just as soft as he answered: “I forgive you.” Aziraphale let out a shuddering breath, then he slowly leaned forward to Crowley, who watched him wide-eyed. The angel stopped, his forehead pressed against the demon´s, their lips only a hair´s width apart, and waited for Crowley to cross the last bit of distance. Crowley closed his eyes, and then he did.

***

Their lips touched and eons passed them by unnoticed. To overwhelmed to do anything but drink in each other´s closeness, they stayed, unmoving, lips touching softly. It was Aziraphale that moved first, he lifted a shaking hand and caressed Crowley´s cheekbone with a gentleness formerly unknown to the demon. Crowley gasped and accidently deepened the kiss. Aziraphale let out a low keen and Crowley pulled back. They looked at each other, awestruck, unsure, everything they had known about each other shaking in its foundations.

Aziraphale slowly stood and Crowley jumped to his feet, suddenly scared, terribly scared that it would happen again, that Aziraphale would change his mind, turn around, leave. Leave him again, feeling so terribly vulnerable. But before the fear could really settle in, Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his shoulder. Crowley slowly wrapped his arms around the angel, still not sure if this was happening, scared to shatter the precious illusion with a wrong move, a wrong touch or word and it would all crumble under his hands, but the angel´s (former angel´s?) body was so firm and warm and real under his hands that he dared to lay his cheek on top of Aziraphale´s head and close his eyes.

They stood for a long moment unmoving, just drinking in the closeness of the other. Finally, Crowley bent down a bit down, until his lips hovered over Aziraphale´s ear and whispered: “What do we do now, angel?” He felt the angel shiver under his hands and a new wave of feelings washed over him. He felt, for the lack of a better word, blessed to be allowed to feel such a vulnerable expression of Aziraphale´s feelings. He wanted to make the angel shiver again, in a multitude of different ways, some of which were shocking, but all of them dripping with love. He wanted to wrap the angel in his arms, so that nothing would ever let him shiver again. Then Aziraphale pulled away with a soft smile.

“Tomorrow, I want to start looking into how to get rid of”, he gesticulated to his eyes and his back, “all this. And then we will plan what to do next, and where.” He took a step towards Crowley again, so their chests were pressed against each other. “But tonight belongs to us, my dear.” He took Crowley´s hand and pulled him towards a room that Crowley had so far only seen the door of, his bedroom. Heart in his throat, Crowley followed him.

Chapter Text

With shaking legs, the demon walked into the angel´s room and quietly closed the door behind him. It seemed to him that he closed the door not only to the bookshop, but to the rest of the world and maybe to his entire former life. For a second, he felt like falling, untethered to anything, everything he had considered unshakable suddenly in question. Then he remembered why he was in this room in the first place and slowly turned around. Aziraphale didn´t seem to know what to do with himself either, he was kneading his white gown in his hands and all his eloquent words seemed to have escaped him. Crowley took a tentative step towards him and Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Do you, I mean, would you like to lay down?” “But we don´t sleep.” Crowley immediately wanted to bite his forked tongue off, as he could see the angel get even more nervous. “But I would like to lay down anyways.” “Alright then we, hm, I don´t know how they usually do it.” Aziraphale stepped from one foot to the other and Crowley, in a desperate attempt to take the awkwardness out of the situation, looked at the bed as if it was made of poisonous spikes, and then crawled on top of it. He lay down on his back and felt the mattress dip next to him. Then Aziraphale´s head settled on the second pillow next to him and they both stared at the ceiling, too scared to break what seemed to be a brittle dream, ready to be broken and scattered any minute now.

But the minutes passed and the dream didn´t break. The two of them just kept on looking at the ceiling and listened to each other breathing. The faint sound of traffic filtered in through the window. The specks of sunlight on the walls started to wander and still neither of them moved a finger. Crowley´s heart was beating ferociously and finally, he couldn´t take it anymore. He had to make sure he wasn´t imagining this. Another minute passed while he was gathering his courage and then, slowly, deliberately, he was turning his head and looked at Aziraphale. The angel looked back at him out of the corner of his eye and then, just as slowly, turned to look at Crowley. “So”, the demon started, but had to clear his throat. “We are in bed. Together. We are laying in bed together. What, uhm, now?” Aziraphale looked as if he would break into hysterics any second now, but then he turned his full body towards the demon, rested his head on his hand and breathed a quiet “I don´t know, do you?” Crowley swallowed, an idea or two forming in his head, but first he turned his body towards the angel and suddenly their faces were mere inches away from each other. He gazed deeply into the burgundy deeps, still wrong, but also so clearly his angel that they might as well have been blue. Aziraphale smiled softly and slowly, slowly and gently, lifted his hand and let it rest on the demon´s cheek. Crowley shuddered, his eyes slipping closed, as the overwhelming sensation of being touched by his angel rippled through him like little shockwaves. Aziraphale shifted again and rested their foreheads against each other like before. Crowley felt the cool breath of the angel flow over his face, again and again and suddenly the reality of their situation hit him and his throat tightened. What if that was it? What if that was the last blaze of glory of their friendship, what if it was a dream after all? His eyes burned and he held his breath to keep his sobs in check. “Crowley?” Aziraphale sounded incredibly small, incredibly insecure and Crowley felt him pull away. The demons eyes flew open, wet and unfocussed, he couldn´t see clear, just saw that Aziraphale floated away from him and with desperate hands, he reached out and clung to the angel. “Don´t leave me.” Aziraphale didn´t seem to know what to do with his hands anymore and settled his hand between Crowley´s shoulderblades, light and unobtrusive, as if he was ready to be pushed away at any second and didn´t want to pose any resistance. It wasn´t enough and Crowley snaked his arm underneath the angels body and clung on with as much force as he dared using, face buried in Aziraphale´s chest. Alarmed, Aziraphale tried to pry the demon´s face away from his chest to look into his eyes, these expressive eyes that always had held all the answers, whether or not they had been spoken aloud. But that just made Crowley cling even tighter and mumble frantic, broken words into the white fabric. “Crowley, please, I can´t hear you, please, dear, speak to me, what is it, what is wrong, my darling, please”, “Don´t leave me!” The words broke free from their cage in Crowley´s chest. Aziraphale froze for a second, guilt washing over him like acid, then he wrapped the demon in his arms and buried his face in Crowley´s hair. “Never again will I leave you, my dear. I´m so sorry.” Crowley sobbed once and managed to wrangle a few more words out of his mouth. “Promise?” Aziraphale gathered him closer to his body. “I promise.” And Crowley cried.

Neither of them knew how long they had be laying there, Crowley sobbing into Aziraphale´s chest, the former angel whispering sweet, comforting nothings into his hair. They were holding each other so tight it would have broken the ribs of a human. The specks of sunlight at the walls wandered further and began to disappear as the day came close to its end. Finally, finally, Crowley´s tears ran dry, but he stayed where he was, face buried in the now wet and not so white anymore fabric. His body felt very heavy and more light than ever at once and he was afraid that he would dissolve if he moved even one inch. The arms of the angel that were wrapped around him were the only thing keeping him fixed to reality, and suddenly, he became very aware of all the places where they touched. Slowly, he lifted his face and met the worried gaze out of eyes just as wet as his own. “I´m sorry”, whispered Aziraphale brokenly. “I forgive you”, answered Crowley, with his whole heart in his eyes, and then pushed himself up just a little bit further and pressed his lips softly to the angel´s. Now it was Aziraphale´s turn to gasp and deepen the kiss. Crowley took the space offered and when his lips couldn´t capture more of Aziraphale´s mouth, he let his tongue flick out to glide over the soft and wet flesh of Aziraphale´s tongue. Then Crowley pulled back, shocked by his own actions, but Aziraphale caught his head with his hand and was pressing forward in a desperate attempt to kiss him again. This time it was him who flicked his tongue forwards and they continued like that, back and forth. Laying with their eyes closed, their bodies pressed against each other, lips sealed together and those sparks of taste and excitement and something neither of them had ever felt as they slowly explored each other´s mouths.

***

When Crowley opened his eyes, the room was dark. The sun had set some time ago, but he could see in the darkness and Aziraphale´s eyes shone back at him. And the radiant smile that greeted him lit the room up more than any star could. The angel whispered: “My dear”, and caressed Crowley´s cheek. Crowley took a shuddering breath and lifted a shaking hand to Aziraphale´s face. The angel´s eyes fell close and Crowley couldn´t keep himself from pressing his lips to Aziraphale´s once more for a chaste kiss. Then the angel´s hand wandered down over his shoulder, down his arm, to his hips and, holding his breath, Aziraphale brushed his fingers against the bare skin of Crowley´s hip. Crowley´s whole body tensed. Strings of fire seemed to be radiating form the angel´s fingers, setting his body ablaze. The sheer closeness, nobody had ever touched this place on his body except for himself, left him reeling. It seemed like the touch vibrated through his body, this vessel for his being, until it reached the very essence of him and lit him up. He didn´t realize that he was whining softly until the voice of Aziraphale filtered through the haze, calling his name, and apologizing yet again. As soon as Crowley found his voice, he gasped out: “Do that again.” Aziraphale frowned at him, unsure. “Let me”, suddenly his voice left him, unsure yet again, but there was no hiding anymore, not from him, not tonight, maybe never again. “Please let me show you.” It took some awkward fumbling, but Aziraphale pulled his white gown up to his hips and frowned at Crowley, unsure of what to expect and a bit flustered. Crowley looked deep into his eyes and brushed his fingers softly over the angel´s skin. The effect was immediate, Aziraphale tensed next to him, an astonished gasp escaped his lips. He shuddered violently – and then practically threw himself at Crowley, snaking his arms underneath his leather jacket, trying to press as much of his bare skin against the demon´s. Crowley felt as though he had been sucker punched, his whole body aflame, barely able to breathe from the intensity of feeling Aziraphale´s body against his own. It took him a moment to catch up, to wrap his own arms around the angel´s body, to let his hands glide over the bare skin of Aziraphale´s back, a whole firework of emotions and sensations going off in his head. They stayed like that, limbs intertwined, drinking in the closeness and warmth of each other. Slowly, Crowley relaxed. He let his eyes flutter close, his mind drifted, he felt full and warm and light inside like never before and just wanted to bask in this moment, as long as it lasted.

***

Crowley woke up softly, he was lifted out of his slumber gradually, he didn´t jerk awake like he usually did. Little by little, he became aware of the warmth he was feeling, of the rise and fall of someone else´s chest pressed to his, the soft sounds of breathing and traffic, the rustling of clothes and the familiar smell of the bookshop around him. He lay still, pondering for a while if he should open his eyes, and then deciding for it. He let the dim light of the street lamps filter into his vision and turned his head to look at the angel who had buried his head in his chest and was sleeping soundly. A wave of feeling, so intense it took his breath away, flooded through him and he kissed the fluffed hair. Aziraphale lifted his head and pressed his lips to Crowley´s, not even awake, but already seeking contact again. The demon let his head sink back as the fallen angel pushed himself up to his elbows. Aziraphale swallowed hard, then he pulled at the zipper of Crowley´s jacket. “Would you mind taking that off? For me?” Shaking, Crowley sat up. “Are you sure? You.. we don´t have to… I mean, we don´t work like them anyways.” Aziraphale smiled softly. “I know. And I will never make you do something you don´t want to. It´s your decision.” Crowley nodded slowly and shrugged off his leather jacket. Then he started to fumble with the buttons of his dress shirt. Aziraphale helped him, his fingers just as unsecure as the demon´s. Crowley chuckled at it, a demon and a fallen angel, united by the fight against a bunch of buttons, but then Aziraphale pushed his hands underneath the fabric and let his hand drift over Crowley´s chest and the demon thought he was about to spontaneously combust. He let the angel push the fabric away over his shoulders and closed his eyes, taking a few slow, deliberate breaths in order to not set himself or something else on fire, getting inconveniently discorporated was really the last thing he needed today, now, that he had found out what this skin of his was able to feel.

It took Crowley a while to realize that the rustling of clothing had fallen quiet and that he couldn´t feel Aziraphale´s hands anymore. He opened his eyes and was greeted by a pair of dark red eyes, wet and pleading and terribly unsure of themselves. Crowley stretched out his hand, but he froze halfway to Aziraphale´s face. The white fabric was a crumpled heap next to the bed and the angel was laying in front of him, unclad, utterly open, utterly vulnerable, utterly himself. Utterly trusting in Crowley. “Aziraphale”, whispered Crowley. “Y… Yes, dear? Is it, is it too much? I didn´t.. I shouldn´t have presumed”, self-concious, Aziraphale tried to pull up the covers, cheeks flaming, but Crowley´s outstretched hand wrapped around his wrist. “You are so beautiful. Utterly indescribable.” Aziraphale´s head whipped up, opening his mouth to say something, because surely, he who had spent the past centuries buried in books and delicacies couldn´t be deserving of such adoration, but when his eyes met the earnest depth in Crowley´s eyes, all words fled him. Crowley didn´t break the eye contact when he shrugged off his pants and dropped the clothes, probably into a different dimension. For a moment, neither of them moved. Time stood still. They didn´t even dare to breathe. Basking in the intimacy of the moment, they still noticed that something unspeakable was happening, but they couldn't stop it any more than the rise of the sun and then it stopped mattering and everything that wasn´t the both of them stopped mattering and Crowley felt something swell inside his chest, something so mighty, he couldn´t hold it back. It felt like it would break out of him like an inferno of hellfire, but what came out of his mouth were a few words, breathed softly into the silence of the room. “I love you.” Aziraphale jerked back as if he had been struck, but then his face lit up with heavenly joy and his eyes overflowed with feeling. “And I love you, too.” He stretched out his arms and Crowley shuffled forwards until he could sink into his angel´s embrace. Their bare chests touched and their foreheads and as their lips touched, the air around them grew heavy and hot with power and something in their souls disconnected, flailed wildly for a moment, and rearranged itself anew. Warmly, securely, and full of peace. Slowly, they sank back into the pillows, limbs intertwined, lips moving against each other, hands still exploring, but already getting comfortable, skin aflame with the joy of touching each other. And the night passed into morning and their wakefulness into sleep without them noticing and without letting go of each other.

***

The first thing Crowley heard when he drifted back towards wakefulness was a nightingale calling outside and he smiled with his eyes closed. He could still feel Aziraphale next to him and everything seemed light and easy and full of promise. Slowly, he blinked and looked up at the angel next to him, who watched him with a soft smile, his head resting in his hand. Crowley caressed the crow´s feet around the eyes of his angel. His… very blue eyes. “Love, your eyes!” Crowley sat up suddenly, still intensely staring into the Aziraphale´s eyes. “What about them? I know, they are atrocious, I will look into what to do about them at once. I thought maybe trying this modern thing called contact lenses, they are supposed to”, “No, that´s not it”, Crowley interrupted him. “They are blue! They are back to normal!” “What?” Aziraphale looked around as if he was looking for the next mirror. Crowley conjured one for him and with wonder and delight, Aziraphale stared at his restored eyes. “Oh, my dear, that´s wonderful! I wonder what”, Aziraphale interrupted himself and stared at Crowley´s face with open mouthed wonder. “My dear, look.” Crowley took the mirror and braced himself for the familiar sight of big, snake-like pupils, surrounded by sickly yellow, but instead was met by normal pupils and a more saturated colour, almost gold. Nothing that would frighten kids in the streets anymore. Wordless he dropped the mirror on the blanket between them. “Are you all right, my dear?” Crowley nodded, still to shocked to find his words again. Aziraphale nodded as well, then he sat up straight and closed hise eyes. With a surge of power, he unfolded his wings behind his bare back. Crowley gasped and his mouth actually fell open. Where they had been white for most of their existence and pitch black the night before, they were now glimmering in silver, with bright metallic and dark anthracite streaks in between, shining and mesmerizing. Aziraphale looked at them in bafflement, then he turned to Crowley. “Do it, too. Show me your wings!” A sudden, sour reflux let Crowley flinch. “Nah, they probably look as they have always looked.” Aziraphale frowned disapprovingly. “Crowley. Mine were black, too. And now they´re not anymore.” “But mine were black for longer.” “But wings don´t simply change. If something was powerful enough to change mine, yours might have changed as well.” “But,” “Please.” Crowley, who had never been able to resist that look resigned himself to unfold his wings reluctantly. Aziraphale´s eyes lit up. “Oh, Crowley. How wonderful!” Crowley dared to look, and then he couldn’t look away. The same silver, streaked with darker and brighter feathers, undeniably different. Undeniably unique. Undeniably beautiful. He turned to Aziraphale with wet eyes. “What happened?” The former angel smiled and took his hand. “I think you were the one who said it first. That we are on our side.” Dumbstruck, Crowley whispered: “Our side. We are on our side now.” Aziraphale stretched and miracled himself some clothes. Then he stretched out his hand. “Come on, Crowley. There is a lot to do.” The former demon frowned. “Like what?” “Like what we want!” With that, Aziraphale made his way down into the bookshop. Crowley looked out the window, at the bustling streets, the sunlight, the clouds on the horizon, the playing children. He couldn´t feel the violent call of hell anymore and a bright tear dripped down his cheek. “Our side,” he whispered one more time, and then dressed himself as well, to follow his love, wherever he might go.