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“...Fuck” Aziraphale murmured, he had just woken up and there was a certain… opposition laying on the angel’s bare chest, gently breathing and slowly waking up.
“Hmm?” the body on his chest asked, he smiled wide and reached up for Aziraphale’s face. The angel smiled but avoided the hand, instead gripping his hand in it, Crowley cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “Angel?”
“Dear…” Aziraphale started, and he kissed Crowley’s knuckles and whispered to the one that he loved, “We’re in the middle of a war…”
At this Crowley frowned and looked away. He squeezed Aziraphale’s hand and opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but he closed it again.
“What, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, rubbing his thumb across Crowley’s soft hands.
“Noth… nothing” Crowley said quietly. Then he looked up at Aziraphale smirking, his tongue flicking out for a moment, “Last night though.” he nodded and smirked wider, eyes narrowing.
Aziraphale scoffed and shook his head, “Oh quiet you snake,” he said but in truth… It was fun. “...true though”
“Hah” Crowley put up his other hand and pinched Aziraphale’s nose, then he moved it to the Angel’s neck, just below his ear and fidgeting with his hair. Aziraphale almost forgot that he was trying to get Crowley to realise that this couldn’t happen.
“Crowley,” he whispered in a serious tone, “we… we can’t”
“I…” Crowley trailed off, then picked it up again after a moment, “I know but… can we just… just run away?”
“I need …to think on that,” Aziraphale said, then he smiled down at Crowley, “we can just stay like this for a little while if you want?”
Crowley nodded And snuggled in closer, Aziraphale placed a small kiss to his forehead. The demon smiled and Aziraphale looked up, leaning his head back and thinking.
Eventually he fell asleep, he didn’t normally sleep and he didn’t need it especially not after he had just slept for a couple hours, but apparently a couple hours doesn’t make up for 6000 plus years of not sleeping. In this dream he thought.
Thought about all of the possibilities, how it could go right and wrong, the pros outweighed the cons but it would still be dangerous. Then he saw one. It played through his mind a billion times, and another billion. Over and over and over.
A little cottage, in the woods, snuggles and cuddles… and other things, baking and cooking, reading with Crowley sitting on his lap like a chair. Marriage and love and life. Anything and everything just so happens to be good. They fixed it somehow. Who knew how but they fixed it. They were happy.
He replayed this over and over and then he heard his nickname. This dream’s sound was just background forest noises such as crickets chirping, or birds singing no words, the ‘Angel’ wasn’t normal.
“ANGEL!” He heard it again, it was more distressed and fearful “Wake up! Please!”
He shot up and he was no longer in the bed, he was now in a cave which he didn’t recognize. He looked around and saw Crowley to his left, and the cave wall to his right.
“Angel you need to make up your mind,” Crowley said, “They’re coming,”
“What?” Aziraphale asked, “who’s coming? Make up my mind about what?”
“Heaven,” Crowley yelled, “You need to make up if you’re going to run off or stay.”
“Oh…” Aziraphale didn’t know what to do, “Okay, we can run off, but if anything, anything goes wrong, we are coming back, and going to our sides,”
“Okay,” Crowley murmured, then he looked out of the cave, “I think we’re good, we gotta leave.” He helped Aziraphale stand up and then they let out their wings, clothes tearing where the wings sprouted from their shoulder blades. They burst out of the cave, heading up to space, it didn’t take very long as they could sort of warp the world around them and make time go slower compared to how fast they were going. It’s awful to explain but it works just fine.
They made their way to Alpha Centauri, hand in hand. Aziraphale liked the feel of Crowley’s hand in his, it was soft, like his lips. Oh his lips were… amazing, Aziraphale was reminded of them, working their way around his body, exploring every inch. He was lost in his thoughts, then finally made it there. Aziraphale did a miracle and the bookshop was there too.
Crowley went inside and sat on the couch, for about half a second. Aziraphale couldn’t wait a moment more. He took Crowley’s hand again and led the demon to the back room, he seductively unbuttoned his vest and then his shirt, letting it lie open. Crowley sauntered over, pulling off his shirt as he went. He threw it to the side and grabbed hold of Aziraphale’s shirt. One thing led to another and they were lying on the bed again, this time they were wheezing.
Then Aziraphale heard it. “Oh fuck,” he whispered, “harps”
Crowley shot up and put on his clothes. “Shit,” he said. “Not even one day?”
The harps were getting louder, pounding in Aziraphale’s ears. He put on some clothes too, but suddenly he felt a burning pain in his back. He screamed and let his wings back out. When he saw the look on Crowley’s face, he immediately knew what was happening. He threw himself out of the door and then ran out of the building.
He tried to put out the fire on his wings, trying to stay an angel. Then he felt the pain on his forehead. He screamed with horror and heard a crack. His halo. No anything but his halo. It shattered and fell into his hands. He felt hands on his shoulders, hugging him. His wings were still burning, but he couldn’t care less. He tried to put it back together, to put it up against his head. None of this worked. The harps were now pounding in his ears. They were everywhere. He didn’t care. He was crying, sobbing, holding Crowley.
The ground was shaking, and suddenly the harps stopped. “Traitor, Demon.” The voice of the Metatron rang out. “Well I suppose you’re both demons now.”
There was a wicked laugh and suddenly Aziraphale knew his name, he was changing. More agony. More hurt. More fear.
Goats.
That was what he was now, a goat, his pupils contracted and rested in a sideways position, and he felt horns sprouting out of his head. He felt as if he could change at any moment. He could have hooves there instead of feet or hands. As Crowley was the Snake, he was now the Goat. Azalel was his name now. He hated it more than anyone could hate anything.
But the agony was over, that was a plus. If you could call anything about what was happening a “plus”. He tried to stand up, but he was pushed down by an Angel, he recognised their face, “N-Not you Muriel…” he whispered. They looked at him with pain in their eyes, they shook it off and kept him down. Somebody handed them something and he could feel it in his bones.
Imminent doom. It was holy water. The only thing that could kill him now. He was held down. Crowley screamed and leaped for him, but was held back by more Angels. Muriel unscrewed the cap and readied themself. Then they slowly took a breath, and tipped it on to Azalel. He screamed, and then… he was gone. Nothing. Blackness.
His last thought was, I guess you don’t go sleeping with the enemy.