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It had been many years since armageddon passed. The war was one to end all wars. Humanity is no longer viable. The earth was wiped of people many years ago, though the angel and the demon stationed there all those years ago may be the only two who miss it. Angels now rule over all, the demons are nothing but low lives in the eyes of angels, not that they weren't before. It’s just now angels can control hell with little worry of revolt. Restricting all things that hell found bothersome and keeping them contained. God has been silent. Despite the anger between their two castes, an angel and demon still meet under cover of the stars, on top of fancy rooftops, and upon raggedy old billboards, in dark murky alleys where the light doesn’t meet them. Which is where they were now, sitting together on a building in the realm of heaven, quietly basking in the company of each other. The demon, with his fiery red hair that draped neatly over his thin shoulders, and his yellow-slitted eyes were no longer hidden by the sunglasses he used to wear. Scales dusted his high cheekbones, they glittered like the stars he had once flown among. “Crowley,” The angel beside him broke him out of his thoughts. His warm, perfectly manicured hands rested on top of his own scale covered fingers “Are you alright dear boy?” Aziraphale asked quietly.
“Ngk,” said Crowley, staring into the mellow blue-green eyes of his companion. They had dimmed considerably after the war. “M’ alright angel,” Crowley finally spoke. The air was once again quiet. “....What do you think is next?” He questioned. Aziraphale made a thoughtful gesture, before shrugging honestly.
“I’m… not sure. In all honesty my dear, it’s quite… a lot. To take in, I mean.” His fluffy white hair framed his face as if it were a halo. “I almost miss being able to sneak around heaven and hell on earth. It was… easier when we were buried in work there.” Crowley made a thoughtful noise before gently leaning to rest his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder, changing the position of their hands so he could gently grasp the pale hand resting on his own. His breath came out a quiet hiss, the chilly air was a nice change from hell’s ridiculous inferno. Beelzebub decided to turn up the thermostat for a reason that was beyond comprehension. Crowley had told Aziraphale in a fit of annoyance. The angel had rolled his eyes fondly and gently patted the demon’s shoulder in sympathy.
“I… I dunno angel. It’s been very…” He paused, trying to think of a word that could possibly describe the situation the two were in. Aziraphale rested his head against the demons, embracing the warmth he brought. “Odd.” He finished. The Angel snorted. The atmosphere around the two became quiet.
“Gabriel has been at it again.” Aziraphale once again spoke.
“When is he not?” Crowley interjected with a hiss. Aziraphale made a face before continuing. He was used to it by now. Crowley let out a small, very undemonic giggle.
“He wants to assign more angels to guard the entrances into hell.” Crowley made another noise that seemed like it may be missing consonants, this time more thoughtful, possibly edging on frustrated. “That’s ridiculous and he knows it.” He quipped. The Angel didn’t look so sure.
“I worry, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s eyebrows creased in worry, eyes heavy with poorly concealed emotion. They both knew the situation in hell was getting worse. It was always getting worse. They knew something more would be coming. Though what that is frustratingly unclear.
“I know, Angel.” Crowely choked out. The true conversation was left unsaid. Those words were spoken years ago. They knew it was too much to repeat them. Not here, not now, perhaps never again. They didn't darer repeat it where they couldn’t be themselves. They both understood the dangers of what they were doing, too. It was an incredibly risky task, after all. An angel and a demon having a relationship of any degree was extremely frowned upon. One of their nature was considered blasphemy. Even when Earth still existed, the two beings knew how difficult it was. They had survived it for thousands of years. The same song and dance around each other for so long. One could only go on like this for so long. Crowley was willing to fight till the cruel and bitter end. He sensed Aziraphale felt similarly. They were quite the stubborn pair, after all. Now they stared into the stars, ones that Crowley had made when he was an angel. So long ago. His stars. He could only see them in heaven, they just did not shine in hell. Heaven didn’t allow them to. It broke Aziraphale's heart for Crowley, was falling not enough for heaven? Eternal banishment just wasn’t enough for them? They can’t let the poor demon see his creation. Behind his hisses and cold stares, he knew how much Crowley cared. It hurt him. He turned his thoughts away from the stars to the white buildings they sat on. They were ridiculously stuffy. Too much white, if you asked him. He missed the secondary colors on Earth. Shades of grey, metaphorically and literally.
Aziraphale had visited hell twice after the war. The buildings in hell tended to be a lot shorter than the ones in heaven, spires only reaching half the size of the ones in heaven. They tended to be on the verge of crumblings with rubble teeming down the sides. The time he saw it before the war was incredibly different from after. Of course, both Heaven and Hell had drastically changed their landscapes. They decided that the office building look was incredibly outdated and they craved more space. Without earth, there wasn’t much issue in simply expanding it out. Aziraphale glanced at his outfit, his favorite bowtie was allowed to be kept, and his old waistcoat was still fairing well. He hated heavenly attire. He hated the now enforced dress codes. It upset him greatly, he was an Angel, and yet forced to wear a uniform that was akin to one of a secondary school. He missed wearing his tartan bow tie and his soft tan meed coats.
The two often spent their time together quietly, when they used to spend their time on Earth, they would chat about whales, birds, and food, but now they rarely felt the need to. They had spent as much time together as they could since their creation all those millions of years ago. When they were both angels, and the first time they met again on top of the garden wall. Now, they sat together in heaven, one angel, and one demon, gently cradling each other. They hate to admit it, but both sides deeply miss Earth. They miss the people, the festivals, the livelihoods, everything. Neither heaven nor hell had them the way that earth did. Aziraphale missed his cluttered bookshop shop and the Ritz, his favorite restaurant to go to with Crowley. Crowley missed his dinner dates with Aziraphale and his beautiful Bentley. They missed people in general. Humanity has always been different than either side the angel and the demon were forced into. They both understood that neither of them was very good at being what they were supposed to be. Aziraphale adjusted his position again, startling Crowley from his thoughts. He turned to the angel beside him, lifting his head off his shoulder to glance. A small subtle smile slicked across his face just a bit. He was the luckiest demon in the world considering that his favorite angel was beside him, returning the same pleasantries. Stolen kisses and intertwined fingers, fidgeting with their respective rings. Aziraphale had a snake ring that gently wrapped around his pinkie, and Crowley had a golden band with angel wings engraved into it. They had got it just a few hours before armageddon. They wanted one last memory that they could hold onto forever. Time was ending and they wanted so badly to never forget the other.
The Angel and the Demon wished they could stay together longer. They craved a small cottage with a little garden and a place to be together. They knew it couldn’t happen, not immediately at least, but they thought. They thought and dreamed about it. As the artificial sun began to rise once more, Crowley knew it was time to go. It was always a horrible feeling, to let go of the one he loved so dearly. Their hands slowly parted, feeling the immediate chill without each other's warmth. Aziraphale leaned forward, almost bashfully, and kissed the exhausted demon's forehead. Hell had taken a toll on his corporation.
“Stay safe,” He whispered, not moving his head away from Crowley. They rested their foreheads together.
“No promises Angel.” He let out a watery chuckle, anxiety laced in his words. Aziraphale knew he was supposed to leave now, he knew that's what the sunrise always brought. He had to go and return to his duties. Crowley needed to as well. But in this moment, he gently reached forward and wrapped his arms around the scrawny demon. Crowley tensed up before immediately sighing and wrapping his arms around the angel. “I’ll miss you,” He croaked.
“I know, I will too, my dearest,” Aziraphale responded.
“One day, Angel, I promise we will fix this. We always have, it’s...” Crowley spoke, breaking the silence that had formed.
“Ineffable. I know, my dearest. We’ll think of something, we have to.”
Aziraphale watched Crowley walk away, before extending his murky black wings and descending out of sight of the angel. He wiped his tears and took a deep breath, bettering his posture and putting on a blank smile. He could do this, for him. He would have to. They would one day get the life they deserved and free themselves and possibly others from this world of corruption. Aziraphale was wandering to his building on autopilot. “Maybe,” He thought. “Maybe we can fix this...” He stared at the sky. Hope had strung itself in the angel’s mind like a cat's cradle. He would have to hope that the almighty was at his side for this. Perhaps She already was.