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The landscape rushed past Crowley as he sped along some uneven road. The trees, fields and houses he passed blurred into one another. If he were to slow down a little, they would look like poorly painted stage sets in a badly acted play.
His chest grew heavy. His breathing was shallow. Crowley didn't really need to breathe. And the other demons, even the angels, would have laughed at him now for desperately trying to breathe. Crowley and his body were so used to breathing that it felt more than uncomfortable not to.
Habit. Why did he get so used to it? Everything physical he was feeling right now felt so disgustingly human, it made him sick. How could people endure this painful pressure? He rubbed a hand over his chest and ordered his too-human body to breathe properly and not to gasp so superficially.
Habit. He had walked this earth for far too long. He had acquired human characteristics. At this very moment, he cursed the long time he had spent here. If only he had never been assigned to Earth. Then he wouldn't be feeling these stupid physical symptoms right now. He wouldn't be having trouble breathing because he wouldn't bloody have to. His hands wouldn't be shaking uncontrollably so that he had the feeling that even the Bentley didn't trust him to control the car.
And he would never have met the angel. At that moment, that was all Crowley wanted. Never to have known Aziraphale. That was the simplest solution.
But the last 6000 years could not be undone, could not be unfelt. He felt everything.
Crowley was an optimist, but at that moment, when the inner pressure increased immeasurably, when everything just hurt, when his vision blurred so much that the Bentley acted on its own and pulled over and stopped, at that moment the optimist in him gave up.
The pressure to hold it all in, to swallow all the pain, to not feel all the physical and mental pain, he let it all go.
Crowley stumbled out of the car, unable to stand the lack of space. His last place of comfort became his personal horror.
He walked around the car and dropped onto the grass, protected from view by the Bentley. Just before everything burst out of him, all the swallowed emotions, the feelings hidden behind the sunglasses. A sob burst out of him that he would perhaps be ashamed of later. But there was no one around and right now he didn't care anyway.
His breathing was intermittent and his burning eyes finally found relief as they overflowed with tears. The salty liquid flowed down his face in quick streams. He wrapped his hands around his legs and drew up his knees. Perhaps he swayed slightly back and forth. Or maybe he was frozen. He didn't know, felt nothing but pain that threatened to consume him.
He made no effort to wipe the tears from his cheek. They dripped uncoordinated onto his leg. He pulled his knees even closer to him. Frantically searching for some kind of support. Everything seemed to be slipping away from him, nothing was where it belonged anymore.
He leant his back against the cool outer wall of the Bentley. He turned his head upwards, looking up at the sky. A few clouds hovered over the otherwise blue sky. Shouldn't the world be grey? He felt like it was grey. He held his hiccuping breath. And then exhaled once, shakily. He repeated this several times. Inhale, hold his breath, exhale for a long time. His lungs were burning, but each time they became a little lighter. His eyes were still overflowing, but his breathing was more regular.
He clenched his trembling hands into fists. His eyes still fixed on the sky, he whispered "Why?" Why did I get to know you. Why have our paths crossed so often. Why did everything feel easier with you. Why did you leave. Why did you leave ME? Why does it hurt so much? Another sob shook his body.
"Because we are unbeatable as a team."
Crowley jerked back so hard that he hit his head on the car behind him. Pain shot through him, but none that he was aware of now. Aziraphale was standing in front of him. This could only be a hallucination, because why the fuck would Aziraphale be standing in front of him.
Normally, he should have felt the presence of this angel. But his body hurt so much that he didn't notice it, couldn't perceive it.
"You asked why, that's why. They had to separate us because we were too strong together," Aziraphale continued as if Crowley wasn't sitting in front of him like the mess he was right now.
Nothing Aziraphale said made sense to Crowley's aching head and pounding heart. "You're not really here," Crowley said slowly and quietly. It was a statement not a question.
„I am here. Can't you see my corperation? Did something go wrong on the journey from heaven?" Aziraphale looked down at himself. Smoothed out his disgusting white suit, which incidentally did not suit him, Crowley thought.
Aziraphale sought to rationalize the problem of why Crowley was looking at him like a deer in headlights. Crowley was on the emotional level.
"Crowley," Aziraphale knelt in front of the demon.
Too close, too close, too close. Crowley tried to dodge backwards. But with the Bentley behind him, he didn't get far.
Aziraphale swallowed hard and understood. He stood up and took his distance again. "I'll leave when you say I should. But you summoned me."
A raspy "What?" was all Crolwey got out.
"You asked me ‘why’ with more questions to follow. So you summoned me directly. I materialised right in front of you and tried to answer those questions," he explained matter-of-factly.
Crowley began to understand. Throwing all his breathing exercises from earlier overboard, he held his breath. Tried to push the pain back inside, away from the surface. Forced his damn heart to stop pounding so fast that his chest would bruise. Put his hands in his lap to hide the trembling and thought about where he had his next pair of sunglasses. At the same moment, one appeared in his hands and he quickly pushed them onto his nose. He actually wanted to get up and not sit on the floor like the pile of misery he was. But he didn't trust himself or his legs, so he just sat up straight. He still had Bently behind him for support. He didn't look directly at Aziraphale as he said, "I didn't mean to. You can go back." He lifted his chin, hoping the angel hadn't heard the wobble in his voice.
Aziraphale said nothing for a long time, Crowley knew without looking that he was wringing his hands. "We were destined to meet."
Crowley realized the angel was still trying to answer his why questions. He snorted. "Right now or the last 6000 years?" He sneered.
"Crowley look at me, please."
Aziraphale couldn't have known what he was looking at. The sunglasses. "Start explaining or get away," Crowley said harshly.
Aziraphale sighed „the half-miracle we performed to protect gabriel, it worked way too hard. And we made a big effort to keep it to a very small spell.“ he paused so Crowley could fill in the blank of what he would say next. „Can you imagine what would happen if we did a real miracle together?“
“No, because an angel and a demon don't work together.“
“Exactly. That's the point. There's never been anything like it. It has scared heaven and hell. Together we could turn EVERYTHING upside down. You and me.“
Crowley wanted to shout there is no you and me. Instead, he blinked and said, "That's why you left? To do what? To protect heaven and hell from us?" none of it made sense, Crowley just wanted to leave.
“No, it was the Metratron's plan to separate us.“
“You walked away anyway,“ Crowley said, finally looking at the angel. He gesticulated wildly as he tried to explain everything.
"Yes, because I didn't understand it at the time. I wanted and still want to make a difference in heaven. And I can do that too. I am supreme archangel and I have the opportunity to make everything better. You could have accompanied me. You left me..." Aziraphale broke off, but Crowley knew what he wanted to say You left me too.
Crowley's body felt heavy. So heavy. Like someone had placed a huge cannonball on his chest. He clenched his hands so tightly that it hurt. His eyes were burning again. He ordered them not to run over, not now. Not in front of him. Show no weakness. Not any more. Don't show any more vulnerability. He was far too vulnerable.
He tried to force out a "go away" to Aziraphale, but only a sob came out.
Because he opened up and let out the emotions once, they are now constantly overflowing. It's like he was out at sea in an old wooden boat and someone had shot a hole in it. He could try to plug it with anything he could find to stop more water getting into his boat. But nothing will hold. His boat will fill up and the emotions will drown him. He couldn't keep his insides in him anymore. His body was betraying him in the most insidious way. He wanted to teleport away, but his miracles had left him too. The fact that he told his body to calm down only made things worse.
Something white slid into his blurred field of vision. It took Crowley too long to realize that it was Aziraphale. He was so close to him that he could actually have smelled him. His scent of books and old wood. But Aziraphale smelled like nothing. Either his senses were going crazy, which wasn't too unlikely, or the emptiness of the sterile heaven had passed over to his angel.
Crowley only seemed to fall further. Deeper and deeper. But he didn't hit the ground, not this time. Instead, the angel wrapped his arms around him, holding him tight and catching him.
Aziraphale had pushed him into the depths, but he was here to soften his fall. How absurd.
A supreme archangel embracing a Demon? Why didn't it burn? Why wasn't his skin on fire where the angel touched him? Why were there cars driving past the road he was on? Just like normal. Why was everything normal? How could the world keep turning? Aziraphale hugged Crowley. Nothing bad was happening. In fact, it felt... good.
Crowley melted into Aziraphale's touch. Even though everything inside him screamed to push Aziraphale away. To ask him out loud why he was doing this.
He allowed himself to feel the embrace and the touch. For thousands of years he had wanted nothing more than to feel Aziraphale's proximity. His arms around him, his warmth against him, his calm breath on his ear. For a brief moment, Crowley forgot everything around him. And more importantly, he forgot what was going on inside him. The pain found an outlet, this touch.
Until Aziraphale broke the silence with whispered words, „They wanted to separate us,“ he swallowed audibly, „but they never will be able to do it completely. I will not leave you."
„But you did leave me. Do you know how many chances I gave you to change your mind? I waited. You left.“ That was too many words at once, Crowley's throat hurt. But he had to say it, otherwise he probably would have exploded.
„I'm sorry Crowley, I'm sorry I didn't accept all your invitations back. I'm sorry from the bottom of my heart for all the pain you must be feeling because of me.“
Such simple words did Crowley no favours at a moment like this. They simply bounced off his aching body. But Crowley was still in Aziraphale's arms, and the way Aziraphale held him resonated with him. The gesture seeped into his veins, which felt like they were gummed up with a black liquid. „I don't forgive you.“
Crowley felt Aziraphale stiffen all over his body. A minute passed. Then two. Then three. Then Aziraphale began to slowly stroke Crowley's arms. Brushed away the darkness and said, „You don't have to. I don't deserve your forgiveness. Maybe someday. Maybe never. That's okay. As long as you allow me to somehow help make your pain a little less.“
„Maybe someday,“ was all Crowley said before teleporting away. He had found his strength again, at least enough to disappear.
Out of Aziraphale's arms, away from the comfort, away from the ease. But he took a little warmth with him. A little lightness coursed through his veins. The darkness had lightened a little.