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Crowley walked back to their table, carrying two glasses of wine with one hand and two shots with the other and somehow not spilling a single drop. Did he use a miracle, or was he just extremely careful — he was far too drunk to think of it.
"Hey, let me help you!" Freddie tried to get up, but he wasn't any sober either.
"It's ok. I got it." Crowley put the glasses on the table. "When is it our turn in karaoke?"
"Not yet." Freddie shook his head. "This place is full. People want to sing. So, how did you not spill all these drinks when you can't even walk anymore?"
"First, I can walk. Second..." Crowley thought for a bit. "I don't know. Might be a miracle".
"For the miracles then", Freddie raised his shot glass. They both drank.
"You know who's a miracle too?" Crowley asked.
"This man you keep on talking about?"
"Yes, him. Do I really talk only about him? Anyway... He's just an angel, you know? And I'm not. And that's the whole thing. He says that we're enemies, that we can't even be near each other..." Crowley shook his head.
"Look, it's your turn in karaoke now", Freddie noticed.
"Good. Let's go!" Crowley got up too fast and immediately grabbed the edge of the table, trying to keep the balance.
"Oh no, I'll wait here".
"Come on, it's literally your song!"
"Exactly. Too many people will notice me, and I still have things to tell you about your man."
"No, it'll be okay! Let's go together, it's more fun!"
Freddie hesitated and then got up too. "Alright, you're too drunk to make it to the stage safely anyway."
"Nah, I'm not that drunk", Crowley said and almost bumped into the wall. Freddie helped him find the right direction, and they made it to a small stage.
"You start", Freddie handed him the mic. The first piano notes sounded. Crowley looked around the bar, using another miracle to make people mind their own business and leave them alone, and focused on the screen even though he knew all the lyrics to this one.
"Love of my life, you've hurt me, you've broken my heart and now you leave me..." Crowley turned around and saw Freddie trying to hold the laughter. "Love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me because you don't know what it means to me... Stop fucking laughing and come sing, will you?"
"Okay, okay!" Freddie grabbed another mic and stood near Crowley. "Love of my life, don't leave me, you've taken my love and now desert me..." Freddie put his arm around Crowley's shoulders, either to comfort him or to help him stand still, and now they sang together: "Love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me..."
When the song ended, some people cheered, but they were treated just like all the other people who sang here before. Crowley wanted to tell Freddie that it was another miracle, but was too busy trying not to get even more emotional.
"Alright, darling, let's go finish that wine. You look like you need it", Freddie guided Crowley towards their table. When they got there, Crowley immediately grabbed his glass, spilled half of it and finished the rest. "So from what you've said, it sounded like he doesn't want to be with you?"
"No, it's not like this! Not at all. It's like..." Crowley sighed. "He really believes that it's the only way, that we can't change it. But you know what, we can! That's what I've been showing him for thousands of years... That the path I'm supposed to follow is not exactly what I wanna do, so I just go my own way, and he can do it too! Do you understand me, Freddie?"
"Honestly, not at all", Freddie smiled. "But go on, I'm listening".
"Don't lie, I know you understand me. If you didn't, you wouldn't write songs like this... But my point is that", Crowley leaned in closer, "he knows what he feels. About this whole God's plan thing, and about me. You know, things up there at his side, it's not good at all. I've been there too, a long time ago. And for him? Not good. Like I said. And after thousands of years only now he finally realizes it all. But he won't admit it, not to me, not even to himself. But eventually he has to break free..."
"Sorry, what did you just say?" Freddie suddenly asked.
"He has to break free", Crowley repeated. "I know it's really hard, but believe me he wants it. Why?"
"No, nevermind", Freddie shook his head. "I'll tell you later. But did you guys talk about your feelings at all?"
Crowley looked at him, grabbed Freddie's glass and drank from it.
"I see."
"He told me that I go too fast for him. And it's fine, okay? I would give him all the time in the world if only we had this time. I don't know how long we all have left, and when it's... Before it's all... I just really want him to be by my side. And if there are two of us, maybe we could even change something, at least we would try."
"So why don't you go and tell him it all?" Freddie reached over the table and grabbed Crowley's hand. Crowley stared at him, confused. "Just like you told me now. I don't know every detail about his situation, but maybe before he does anything he has to be completely sure of what he's gonna risk for? Just tell him everything, about the time and all this stuff... And if he doesn't want to change anything, it's his choice."
Crowley nodded, thinking. "You're right. Maybe it's all complicated, but I should just be completely clear with him and then we'll see".
"And if it doesn't end well, we can always go and get drunk again", Freddie squeezed Crowley's hand. "And sing some more songs about heartbreaks."
"Exactly. I think I'm gonna go now", Crowley got up, took a few steps and fell down the stairs — there weren't even that many stairs, but definitely enough for him right now.
"Damn, you're really drunk", Freddie carefully went down the stairs and helped Crowley to get up.
"I think you're right. I'm drunk", Crowley agreed, fully leaning on him now.
"Let's go, I'll catch you a cab." Now walking was even harder for both of them because only Freddie could walk in a more or less straight line. But Crowley didn't need a cab. Bentley was right there.
"Let's get in there", he pointed at it.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, that's my car", Crowley got in the back seat, and Freddie sat next to him. "Let's go home now. Hey, if you're too drunk to go to your place you can stay at mine".
"Thanks, I'll think", Freddie responded as they got on the road. "Crowley?"
"Mm?"
"It's just us in this car, right? And we're in the back seat?"
"Looks like it."
"Then who the fuck is driving?"
Crowley looked forward and rested his head on Freddie's shoulder. "Dunno. Might be another miracle".
"I might be too drunk then", decided Freddie.
"Told you."
"Shut up, I had to walk you", Freddie laughed. "The machine of a dream..."
"All I hear is your gear..." Crowley joined him, singing the wrong part. After a rather short ride the Bentley stopped. Crowley crawled out of it, and Freddie followed. "You live in Soho? Of course you do."
"I don't", Crowley tried to open the door and then searched in his pockets and turned around with a panicked look on his face. "Freddie, I lost my keys! Wait, Freddie, I don't even have the keys! Why doesn't it open?"
"Wait, are you sure it's your home? It doesn't look like a place to live", Freddie looked the building up and down. "It looks like a shop..." The door suddenly opened, and Crowley fell right in someone's arms.
"Crowley? What are you doing here?"
"Hello, angel", Crowley walked inside the bookshop, trying his best to stay on his feet. "Do you mind if I sleep here tonight?"
"Of course?" Aziraphale followed him inside. Freddie, unsure about Crowley's life decisions, walked in and closed the door. "Crowley, how much did you drink?"
"A few." Crowley leaned on a chair, knocked it down and almost lost the balance himself, but Aziraphale rushed to him and held him, helping to find the balance again.
"A few what?" he asked. Crowley tried to remember, but there were simply too many drinks to count.
"A few something", Crowley turned around to make sure Freddie is still here. "Oh, that's my friend, Freddie. Freddie, Aziraphale. Do you mind if he sleeps on your couch for a few hours? He's a good guy, but he drank too much and I told him he can sleep at my place."
"Hello", Freddie waved.
"Sure. Be my guest. I'll be with you in a few minutes", Aziraphale smiled, looking a little lost. "Crowley, let me help you upstairs".
"I'm okay", Crowley protested, while allowing Aziraphale to drag him upstairs and holding on to him instead of whatever more unstable furniture he might have. "He drank more than me."
"Did not!", Freddie argued from the living room. "I gotta talk to Azirawhat-was-that-name while I remember", he whispered to himself, sat on the couch and passed out.
"Don't kick him out, okay?" Crowley asked when they made it to the bedroom upstairs. "I know you won't. I said he's a good guy, he is, but we'll have him in the end. He's not as good as you, you know? Nobody is. Don't take it as a compliment"
"I think you should get some sleep." Aziraphale helped Crowley to find the bed.
"Maybe." Crowley laid down, and the room spined around and then it was dark.
Crowley woke up feeling like he fell from heaven again. He tried to move, but immediately felt that it was not a good idea. He sighed heavily and rubbed his face. For Hell's sake, what happened to him? What century was it? And is he... What is he doing in the bookshop?
"Are you awake now?" the voice asked softly, and still it felt like this question hit his already aching head.
Crowley slowly turned his head to the voice and saw Aziraphale standing in the doorway with a cup of tea in his hands.
"Aziraphale?" Crowley whispered. "What the fuck happened to me?"
"You haven't sobered up, have you?" Aziraphale asked.
"Huh?" Crowley looked at him, confused. Aziraphale nodded to himself. And suddenly this strange feeling was gone, his head was clear, and Crowley felt like a demon again. "Thanks." He sat in bed. "What am I doing in your bookshop?"
"That's what I wanted to ask you", Aziraphale said. Crowley stared at him. "You came here late at night with your friend. Crowley, did you drive in that state?"
"No, I think I didn't drive. I just..." Crowley stopped mid sentence as the memories started coming back. He told Bentley to just go home. Why did it come to the bookshop then?
Oh damn.
"Nevermind. I used a miracle to get here. Where's Freddie?"
"He left a few hours ago. I miracled his hangover away and we talked for a while."
"About what?"
Aziraphale looked away. "I think you need some more time to wake up. Do you want a cup of tea?"
Now this was the real "oh damn".
"I could use some coffee now. If you want me to be awake."
"I'll make coffee for you, come down when you're ready. And then we'll talk."
Crowley opened his mouth, unable to say anything. But Aziraphale smiled at him and left the room.
Crowley took a deep breath, his heart pounding. What was that? What on earth did Freddie tell him? Crowley was about to jump out of the window, but... If Aziraphale didn't like whatever he learnt this morning, he wouldn't smile at him just how, would he?
Crowley was absolutely terrified. But, maybe, there were some things he had to break free from too.
He left the bed and went downstairs. It smelled like coffee.