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The summer heat beat down on Crowley’s head, burning him up. He sighed to himself, looking up at the sun through his sunglasses, cursing the sky for the lack of any clouds or breeze that day.
Meanwhile, the kids Crowley was supposed to be watching were running around on the open field, seeming to be playing tag or something. He sighed and brought his attention back to them. It was just past dinner, free time for the kids at camp, and it was hot as hell. Crowley vaguely regretted not joining Aziraphale to hang out near the pond with the other half of their campers, were it was much more shaded with trees. Instead, he’d offered to watch the more rambunctious boys from their cabin play with some other boys from the camp. Crowley hadn’t known then that it’d be out in the open, in the heat. Crowley shifted his gaze around, searching for any tree with shade underneath that he could slink off towards. But suddenly, there was a raised, upset voice that Crowley recognized: Warlock. Crowley looked over in concern; after all, it was his duty to look after the campers in his care. Whatever had upset Warlock caused him to run away from the other boys, heading right for the chalet. Crowley came over to the boys to investigate what happened.
“Who upset Warlock!?” Crowley demanded.
“It’s not our fault he lost the game.” One boy replied.
Crowley sighed. Little children got upset over the most minuscule things; now he had to console Warlock by explaining that one could not win everything in life.
“Alright.” Crowley eased up on the kids. “Go back to what you were doing. I’ll go check in on Warlock. No more causing trouble while I’m gone.”
Two other counsellors were talking to each other not too far away, so Crowley was assured that if anything were to happen while he walked away, there would be at least someone to rush over and lend aid.
Crowley began walking to the chalet to try to find Warlock. He heard some sniffling from the side of the building, and Crowley peered his head around a corner to find Warlock crying in the bushes.
“Warlock?” Crowley prompted gently. “Are you okay?”
Warlock sniffled from behind the bush, and Crowley sighed as he knelt near the ground to spy the boy better through the gap in the bushes.
“Do you want to come back and play with the other boys?” Crowley inquired. “Or do you need a few more minutes?”
Warlock just sniffled while wiping his face with the back of his hand. Crowley sighed, realizing he probably wanted a few more minutes.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Crowley tried, not even sure why he was offering.
“I miss my mom.” Warlock sniffled.
“Oh,” Crowley replied blankly. He wasn’t sure what to offer there.
Crowley shifted on the ground in front of Warlock. “Two weeks is a long time to be away from your parents, isn’t it? Especially at your age. We could arrange with the camp staff for you to have a call with your mother if you like.” Crowley offered.
“They’ll make fun of me.”
Crowley hummed at that. “I bet the other boys miss their parents too. Even if they don’t admit it.”
Warlock just sniffled and wiped his nose. “No, they don’t.” He muttered. “They’re not babies like me.”
“You’re not a baby, Warlock.” Crowley’s heart went out to the poor boy then. “How many more days do we have of camp?”
“Five,” Warlock replied.
“And you made it through seven days already.” He tried to encourage. “You’ve been having so much fun, right?”
Warlock nodded tentatively. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
Crowley nodded. “I know. You’re just a bit homesick, that’s all. What do you miss about not having your mum around?”
“I miss her hugs.” Warlock sniffled again.
Crowley smiled softly. “She gives the best hugs, huh?”
Warlock nodded.
“Well, I’m sure Aziraphale would be honoured if you asked him for a hug.”
Warlock shook his head fiercely, and Crowley couldn’t help but stifle a chuckle. For some reason, Warlock seemed not to have taken to Aziraphale very well.
“Not Aziraphale then.” Crowley was smirking, amused.
“Sometimes at night, she tucks me in and gives me goodnight kisses.” Warlock sniffled.
“I see.” Crowley smiled more.
“And sometimes she lets me eat ice cream before bed as a treat.”
“Well, maybe when you get home, you could ask her for some ice cream before bed as a treat.”
Warlock looked up to Crowley shyly. “Could I…could I have some now?”
Crowley saw the scheme then. He glared at Warlock, though the boy probably couldn’t see it through his sunglasses. “Fine.” He caved.
Warlock was all smiles then, and Crowley got up off the ground with a groan. He cursed in his head as his legs were aching from bending for so long.
“But you can’t have ice cream hiding behind a bush,” Crowley told Warlock once standing up.
Warlock pushed up and came out.
“Come on. Before I change my mind.” Crowley smiled at him.
Not much later, Warlock and Crowley were sitting at one of the picnic tables. Warlock finished off his ice cream sandwich.
“Feeling better now?” Crowley inquired.
“I still miss my mom,” Warlock replied distantly as he looked down.
Crowley hummed. “Well, maybe when you miss your mom, think of all the fun you’re having here instead. Aziraphale and I are basically your parents while your here anyway.”
Warlock chuckled at that.
“Come on. Why don’t we get headed to the firepit? The campfire should be starting soon.” Crowley got up to encourage Warlock to do the same.
“Crowley,” Warlock called, and Crowley stopped to look back at the boy.
The next thing Crowley knew, the boy was hugging him. Crowley startled at that but softened and offered an awkward hand to the boy’s back.
“Thank you,” Warlock muttered into Crowley.
“No trouble at all, Warlock. Now, come on.”
/
It was just past breakfast the next morning, and Aziraphale was leading the morning crafts he’d planned, as he had done every morning. Warlock thought Aziraphale’s activities were the worst; they were boring, unlike Crowley’s games, which Crowley led around supper.
Crowley was talking with Aziraphale, while Aziraphale blushed away. Warlock’s counsellors were always talking to each other, and Crowley always made Aziraphale blush with a playful smirk, but Warlock ignored that. At the current moment, he was struggling with the string Aziraphale had shown them how to knot together to make a bracelet. Warlock had tried to protest against the craft, saying it was for girls. But Crowley had spoken up to remind him that boys wore bracelets too. So Warlock participated in the craft, though not thoroughly enjoying himself. He looked back up to Crowley and Aziraphale, talking as his cabin mates showed each other their work.
“Aziraphale and Crowley are kind of like our parents.” Warlock brought his cabinmates’ attention.
“Yeah, Aziraphale is like our mom, while Crowley is our dad.” One of the boys’ replied.
“No,” Warlock replied sharply.
That wasn’t right. Mom was someone Warlock liked, like Crowley. Aziraphale was not mom. But Warlock didn’t know how to convince the other boys of this.
“Crowley should be mom... because he looks more like one. With his long hair.” Warlock argued.
Warlock was delighted to find the other boys nodding then.
/
The kids were giggling away, drawing Crowley’s attention.
“What is it?” He prompted, glaring at them under his sunglasses.
“Nothing.” They almost all replied in unison.
“Let’s see what you’ve made.” Aziraphale turned his attention to them.
The boys proudly showed off the bracelets for Aziraphale’s praise.
“Aziraphale.” One of the boys spoke up, squirming in his seat. “Could we play manhunt for our before-dinner game?”
“I…” Aziraphale stuttered. He didn’t like being thrown off his meticulously planned schedule.
“Mom would let us.”
“Whose mother?” Aziraphale asked.
“No, Crowley. Crowley’s mom, and you’re our dad. We just decided now.”
“Crowley… mom?” Aziraphale looked over to Crowley, flustered. Even Crowley felt shocked by the statement. “And I’m dad?” Aziraphale looked back to the boys. “What made you come to that conclusion?”
“Cause you’re our parents while we’re here,” Warlock spoke up, reminding Crowley of his words to the boy yesterday. “You look after us. So we were deciding which of you is mom and which is dad. Crowley is mom because his hair is longer.”
“Oh. Of course.” Aziraphale simply replied. “Well, why don’t we wrap this up? We should be getting ready for the shift change.”
The kids were all excitedly getting up from the table in a very unorganized fashion then.
It continued throughout the day, the boys calling them Mom and Dad. It had Crowley beat read as anything, being referred to as mom, embarrassed if other counsellors heard. In the afternoon, Crowley and Aziraphale were watching the kids play manhunt.
“I feel almost offended that I didn’t get to be mom,” Aziraphale stated. “I mean, aren’t I the one who’s more concerned about their well-being? No offence.”
“None taken,” Crowley replied. “We can swap if you like.”
“I don’t think they’d let us,” Aziraphale stated. “It’s kind of sweet, though, isn’t it? Having them think of us as their parents.”
Crowley smirked at that as he dared to look over at Aziraphale next to him. There was a sharp cry from the field then; one of the boys fell over.
“Come on, mom.” Aziraphale nudged him. “You have your responsibilities to get to.”
“Fine.” Crowley sighed, though his concern for his campers already had him headed off towards them.