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In the early days after their split, Crowley felt as though he had been bereaved. He had no way of contacting the Archangel, and Aziraphale had made no attempts to contact him. Altogether, it had been a hopeless period of time for the demon. First, he found himself avoiding the bookshop, which did not last. Then, he was in the bookshop constantly. Now, his frequent visits are beginning to die down again.
Crowley is hurt. He hates to admit it, but he feels abandoned and lonely. He oscillates between trusting his angel to come back—after all, they always find their way back to each other—and cursing him. However, he can't curse him, not ever. He can curse Heaven, although that had led to his ‘sauntering vaguely downwards’ all those millennia ago. He reasoned that he was in for a penny, so he might as well be in for a pound, and so he made a point to, at least once a day, curse upstairs.
The reason Crowley frequented the bookshop less often was that he had decided to make better use of his time than wallow, whine, and harass Muriel to not sell any books. He was sure the Metatron was planning something big. Hell is also bound to be making plans, and Crowley could not rule out the two sides working together. He needed to find out what was going on, which is not an easy task when neither side is talking to you. He remembered back in Old Testament times that Aziraphale had asked if being on his own side was lonely. It had been, but it was not comparable to his current state of loneliness. In the depth of his mind, he knew that Aziraphale, although surrounded by angels, likely also felt vastly lonely.
Crowley spent his days spying and lurking—a task that had been beneath him. However, his new replacement on Earth was a lot less talkative than Shax had been. He had thought of intimidating Muriel into telling him about the goings-on in Heaven, but he felt that tricking her into taking him up there had been enough. So he only ever asked about the books when he came around the shop. Aziraphale might not be around anymore, but Crowley would be double-damned if a book got sold on his watch.
In Heaven, Aziraphale had been sitting in on far too many meetings. Some were with just the Archangels, others with Cherubim, Seraphim, Thrones, and other higher-ranking angels. The meetings he dreaded most were those where he was alone with the Metatron. They felt sinister and as though he was under review. The voice of God had not outwardly warned him not to speak to Crowley, but had made it very clear that Crowley's decision not to come back to Heaven should be a sign of bridges burned. Aziraphale had outwardly agreed but knew that there was no such thing as burned bridges between Crowley and him. Even if they said and did things that hurt each other, they always made their way back to the other.
Aziraphale had been hurt. He hadn't wanted to leave Earth for Heaven. He loved Earth, and humans and all that the two had to offer, but he had a duty. He could make Heaven what it was supposed to be: a place of love and forgiveness, and that would in turn benefit Earth and humans. He thought Crowley would want to fix Heaven with him. He thought Crowley would see how desperately he needed him, and how he could not bear leaving Earth without him. He had hoped that the promise of being together would have been enough for him to follow Aziraphale. But it hadn't been, and he forgave Crowley for it.
Aziraphale could not decide whether it was a good thing Crowley was on Earth or not. On the one hand, he would like to be able to speak to him and make a plan on how to avoid the second apocalypse and an eternity of Heaven, or Hell, or both. On the other hand, it's good to have someone working the ground. If he knows his demon, he is probably already working on trying to avert what is to come. Aziraphale has a few plans and backup plans; new ideas spring to his mind with each meeting he sits in. Which makes the meetings with the Metatron even more anxiety-inducing.
“Do you agree, Supreme Archangel?” the floating head booms sternly. Aziraphale raises his eyebrows slightly nervously. He feels as though his plans to thwart an eternity of Heaven were written across his forehead. “Yes… of course. I mean… Amen.” Aziraphale left the meeting with the Metatron, about implementing the first stages of their plan, with a renewed sense of resolve. “Right, time to get to work,” he whispered.
Aziraphale was lonely and missed life on Earth terribly. He hadn't taken anything with him, and he hadn't been allowed to keep his clothes, which had been changed upon his arrival. He now wore a structured gray suit, but managed to keep a tartan bow tie, though it was Heaven’s tartan rather than his own. He felt as though Heaven had set out to change him rather than the other way around. He had nobody to share his thoughts with. He guarded what he said as he always felt like he was being watched. His title as Supreme Archangel had not made Uriel and Michael trust him unconditionally. In fact, they seemed even more hostile toward him, though they suppressed it behind tight smiles. Aziraphale sighed as he made his way back to his desk. At least he could confide in his diary.
An idea sprang into his mind and he made haste.
The doors to the bookshop flew open and a demon took long strides toward the cheery young bookkeeper. “Sold any books?” he quizzed with a threatening look on his face.
“Happy to report that I have sold no books at all,” they beamed back. Muriel used to be scared of Mr. Crowley but had learned that the demon only speaks that way to get that effect. Once you take the voice and clothes and grumpiness away, the demon really was just like them.
“In fact, I acquired a book!” Muriel's smile spread as they noticed they had piqued the demon's interest.
“You’ve acquired a book?” Crowley drawled, unable to keep his skepticism at bay.
“Yes! It was delivered to me personally by the Supreme Archangel himself!” Muriel said with pride and joy. Now the demon was really interested.
“The Supreme Archangel came down to Earth just to give you a book and went back?” The thought that Aziraphale came down to Earth gave him hope, but the thought that he came down and did not even attempt to make contact stung.
“Yes! But the Supreme Archangel said that under no circumstances can anybody read it, especially you, Mr. Crowley. And he said to put it in the safe upstairs in the spare room,” Muriel warned.
Behind his dark glasses, Crowley rolled his eyes. Of course, Aziraphale had known that Muriel would spill the beans about this book and its exact location. The safe in question was one only he and Aziraphale had the combination to. The demon was filled with a sense of warmth. So there is still hope. Aziraphale wants him to read a book. He wondered what the book was; it probably had a hidden message in it.
“Alright, I won't read it then,” the demon lied. “But I will have to check if all the books in the spare rooms are still in order. I’ll need some privacy,” he said, already halfway up the spiral staircases.
“Uhm, alright… as long as you don't read that book, Mr. Crowley!” Muriel called after him, proud of themselves for putting their foot down. The angel went back to reading the book they had set aside after the demon had come crashing into the shop.
Crowley held a leather-bound, title-less book in his hands. He noticed that there was a nicked page about halfway through the book. It's not like Aziraphale to dog-ear his precious books. He opened the first page and read the title.
“The Confidential Diaries of the Supreme Archangel Aziraphale…” Crowley raised his eyebrows in disbelief. He flipped to the dog-eared page and began to read the entry.
**Dear Diary,**
**I have entrusted the Angel Muriel with this book and given strict instructions not to let anybody read it, especially the demon known as Crowley. I trust this book has made it into the right hands.**
**In which case, dear Crowley,**
**I am sorry I haven't been able to speak with you. I miss you terribly. I hope you miss me too.**
**I haven't much time for sentimental messages; there are plans underway for the Second Coming. This will be, as you’ve once said, ‘the big one.’ In this diary, you will find my notes and thoughts from my time here as Supreme Archangel. In the meantime I am continuing to make plans to prevent the destruction of the Universe; I hope you can use my thoughts to do the same. If we are ever to speak again, or be together, we must come up with something rather soon.**
**Love,**
**Aziraphale.**