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It has been a few months since Aziraphale has left Crowley. The demon has been living under the dark mud of sadness and at the end of the bottle. Not one sober day or sober thought. Maybe it was better this way, maybe it didn't hurt as much as it would have if he stayed sober. He usually just sat on their- khm, on a bench in the park with no significance at all. He just liked that particular bench more than the other ones, that's all. He usually had a bottle in his hand, maybe sometimes a bag of frozen peas. He still liked ducks, after all. Sometimes he yelled at people for feeding them bread or crescent rolls. Some people called the cops on him a few times but he miracled them away to the best of his drunken abilities, not wanting to deal with them. He had enough on his plate already. He once visited Muriel in the bookshop, but it all reminded him of his angel... he couldn't bear it and stormed out when Muriel wasn't watching. The happy moments, the times they got drunk on the couch, when Aziraphale rambled on and on about some books Crowley had absolutely no interest in whatsoever but still listened with a fluttering heart.... the confession, the kiss.. those three words his angel said... it was supposed to be another kind of three words.. The once cozy bookshop was now the root of his pain. As much as he wanted to go back he couldn't.
This day was the same as the others: Crowley slumped on the bench with a fancy bottle of wine next to him, moping away, not even watching the ducks, just staring into nothing at all. Some people were taking a walk, some people were having a picnic, some were feeding the ducks. Now they knew better than giving them pastry, nobody wanted a 'middle aged drunk emo guy' to yell at them. At least that's what he was called by the people around there. Crowley didn't pay any attention to them. He was too busy drowning in his miserable thoughts and a bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. The sun started going down, the atmosphere changed from lively and full of people to a calmer one. Most of the humans had work in the morning, or nightshifts, they gathered their blankets and picnic baskets and went home, some of them went on separate ways. A mother tried to calm down his son who couldn't be more than 3 years old. He dropped his ice cream on his green and white striped shirt, making a mess. The ball of cold sweetness was laying between the grass, a single ant already found it and started going back to its colony to tell the others about it. Soon it will be covered in ants, bringing it back to their hill. The little boy couldn't be shushed. His dad was calmly leaning against a tree, waiting for his wife to pack up the picnic and calm down their son. One of Crowley's pointy ears twitch at the sound. *Ugh, kids.* He complained in his mind, deciding not to acknowledge the little sound in the back of his brain that said that he should go over and try to hep the child and tell the woman to get a fucking divorce already. He looked over his shoulder, taking in the sight and realizing the problem. A red stain from the raspberry flavoured ice cream.. It brought back memories. He had a red stain on himself once. When he and his angel went to investigate the whereabouts of the Antichrist. They got shot with paintballs. Aziraphale got pouty about the stain on his vintage coat.. Oh, those big puppy eyes and the things they do to him.. Tears start forming in his eyes but he doesn't let them fall. Instead he snaps his finger and miracles the stain away to stop the kid from crying any longer. *I did that just to shut him up and to protect my ears from anymore of that awful sound.* But we all know it's not true. He tried to gaslight himself into not having a soft spot for kids as he always does. The kid stops crying, and the mother didn't even have to pack up because magically everything was inside their basket already. She grabbed the basket and made sure one more time that her son was okay and walked to their car. Her husband rolled his eyes and mumbled something along the lines of 'finally, I thought this was gonna take forever', then when he walks behind them he steps into a big pile of dogshit and curses. Deserved. Crowley looks away with an unpleasant look on his face, clearly not drunk enough to cope in the slightest with the memories that flooded his mind just a moment ago.He takes a sip from the bottle, or at least he would have if it wasn't already completely empty. He looks at it with disappointment, then throws it in a nearby trashcan. This day is awful. Hell, every day is awful. He rubs his eyes under his dark glasses. They have dark circles under them because of the constant crying, and he’s grateful that he has something to cover them with. He gets up. The sun is nearly down, nobody is out here now. He starts slowly walking somewhere. His usual hip swaying stopped a long time ago. He haven't felt like a diva in a long time. He felt like a useless pile of shit. His legs take him to a bridge. He remembers this bridge. This is where he asked Aziraphale for some holy water so he could protect himself from demons like Hastur and the other one... He can't really remember his name right now. He leans against the railing and looks up at the sky. He wasn't able to see the stars because of the light pollution of the city. He made all those stars, those beautiful places, just for these humans to not give a single fuck and make their own lights. Was his work always meant to be absolutely useless? Most of the stars and galaxies he made weren't even visible from the Earth. He sighs and closes his eyes. Nothing feels real or right these days. Just a blur that he barely remembers the next day. It would be better if people stopped pestering him.
- What is it, Muriel? Worried again that I found some holy water and dumped myself in it? - he hisses at the angel standing beside him, not turning his head to meet their gaze. Sometimes he felt bad about being mean to them, but he didn't have the energy to do anything about it. The young angel's smile falters for a second at the rude tone, but picks it up again as they start speaking.
-I know you'd never do that. But this is not why I'm here right now. Archangel- or rather ex-archangel Gabriel came by not so long ago. He was looking for you, you know. - their tone was cheery as always.
-I thought he was away somewhere with Beelzebub. Went to Alpha Centauri or something, didn’t they? For their honeymoon or whatever…- He trailed off as he mentioned Alpha Centauri. He remembered when he tried to convince Aziraphale to run away with him from the doom they thought was going to happen... that was so long ago. Before the Armagedidn’t. When everything was okay, when he was still here with him and they could go get dinner at the Ritz and then get drunk in the back of the bookshop and talk about whatever came to mind.. He nearly smiles at the bittersweet memories. But there is nothing to smile about now. Muriel seemed to pick up on his mood and they shifted a little uncomfortably, but their smile didn’t seem to fade. They were really worried about Crowley.
-Well, yeah, kind of. But Gabriel said that he needed to talk to you. Something about some kind of voice in his head, I’m not really good with these things as you know. Human things, I mean.- they laughed it off lightheartedly, not really understanding the voice thing. Even though Gabriel wasn’t a human, he kind of lost his powers for a while before he regained his memories, so maybe a little human stuck with him, they thought. This grabbed Crowley’s attention. Although he still didn’t want to help any more than he already did. Which was not at all.
-Voice? What voice?- they shrug, swinging back and forth on their feet. -He didn’t say. Just that he needs your help. So… You should help…- they stopped swinging when they heard the demon grumble about it. They thought for a moment and their smile faded again a little before finding its way back to their face -You could use the distraction, no? Just.. don’t help him, take your mind off of.. whatever’s on your mind.- they hoped this would be useful, because they had absolutely no other ideas. Like at all. They wanted to help the ex-archangel, but they wanted to help Crowley the same. Maybe even more, since seeing them in such state was taking a toll on them as well. Even if they didn’t show it. Crowley didn’t need another person to be sad, he was sad enough for the world, in their opinion.
-Agh, for… ugh, fine. But just to take my mind off of.. things. Y’know. Yeah..- he couldn’t make himself say his name out loud anymore. His face popped up in his mind every time he even thought about it. That perfect button nose which once had a nose ring in it but it fell out and then the hole closed. Those beautiful sky blue eyes that sparkle under the sun. Somewhere in the 5th century or so he realized that his pupils look like small stars. He never wanted to look away from them ever again, he wanted to get absolutely lost in them, so lost that he would have never found the way out. Those pretty wrinkles that he had, it reminded him of time. Nothing in particular about time, just time itself. His curly hair that looked and felt like a small cloud. He once asked to touch it when they were drunk, and it felt so soft around his fingers, he wanted to keep touching it all night. And his ears.. they were normal human ears, not the one Crowley chose for himself just to seem even more badass. And they still had the holes from the 20’s when both of them were presenting themselves as women. Oh, his angel was so beautiful as a woman… He shook his head slightly and rubbed a hand across his face to try and get rid of the thoughts.
-Lead the way.- he grumbled once again and pushed himself away from the railing of the bridge. Muriel was practically over the moon with this answer. Maybe this way they could help both of them. They started walking back towards the bookshop where they just came from, with the demon slumping behind them.