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The first storm at the bookshop since Muriel’s arrival had taken them by surprise. They had never experienced one on Earth before. Not that Heaven had any storms. Heaven didn’t really have any kind of weather at all.
Crowley had been there when the thunder had begun, and Muriel had insisted that he stayed until the worst of it was over. They were somewhat convinced in a paranoid part of their mind that the thunder was God sounding the alarm for a second attempt at Armageddon.
Then the power went out all across Whickber Street, and that clinched the whole thing.
Given Aziraphale’s tendency to light the bookshop with mainly candlelight, it didn’t take long for the place to become illuminated again.
In the brief pandemonium of surprise, Crowley had lost track of Muriel. But when he found them, they had hidden themselves in the backroom around a stack of books. Their wings had come out and were wrapped around them as they cowered and trembled in fear.
Their feathers were a grayish blue, nearly white but the darkness made their color more visible.
Crowley crouched down to the angel’s level, unsure of how to approach this unusual situation.
“You, uh… you alright there?”
Muriel peaked out from behind their wings. “Sorry,” They said, shifting to sit in a cross legged position and moving their wings back. “I just… I’ve never experienced a storm on earth before. I’d heard about them, of course, but…” Tears pooled in their innocent eyes.
Crowley sighed. “Yeah, well, big loud things they are.” He said. “Remember my first one.” He paused, the memory fully flashing before him in his mind. The clustering dark clouds, the rain, the raising of the white wing over his head, shielding him with safety in the face of such a great unknown.
“Were you scared too?” Muriel asked.
Crowley considered the question. Scared? Had he been? Uncertain for sure, but scared? He, the angel who had helped to build the great stars in the sky, been cast down into the burning sulfurs of hell, had crawled on his belly in the dirt as a newly transformed snake…
“At first, I suppose,” He admitted after a beat. “A bit more shaken than anything. Why God thought such a noisy, random thing was a good idea is still beyond my understanding to this day. Just obnoxious now.”
Another loud boom. Muriel startled and let out a small squeak. Their wings instinctively beginning to cover their head again.
“What helped you not be as scared?” They asked, peering eyes watching the ceiling above as if the storm may break through and raise them into the vicious sky above.
Crowley’s heart sank again at the memory that cropped up at those words.
The answer was clear. But that angel wasn’t here anymore. Not for storms, or for anything else that frightened Crowley. Though truth be told the thing that scared Crowley the most now was not knowing if Aziraphale was alright or not. And of course he wasn’t. Neither of them were.
Shirking aside his own personal struggles, Crowley focused on the terrified little angel before him. And suddenly he saw not Muriel but himself.
Crowley found himself giving Muriel a small smile.
“Having someone else to talk to,” He said finally, genuine warmth touching his tone.
“Oh.” Muriel wiped a tear away. They seemed to know who Crowley’s someone at that time was.
There was an understanding that had come between the angel and demon after a certain amount of days in one another’s company where Muriel knew by the somber tone of Crowley’s voice whom he was referring to when recollecting certain memories of his.
“What should we talk about, then?” Muriel asked.
Crowley’s smile grew wider and he stood up. “Well, for starters, I could go for a bit of something to drink with this weather. When was the last time you tried cocoa?”
Muriel blinked and stood up uncertainly. Their nose wrinkled in suspicion. “I looked at a cup the other day at Nina’s that Maggie ordered for me. Nina didn’t seem to appreciate that very much. I ended up giving it to that nice human named… Sandwich? Is that right?”
Crowley chuckled. “Yeah. Well, I think nows as good a time as any to give it another try. I hear they can make thunderstorms somewhat… comforting. Never understood that but Aziraphale always used to think so.”
“Really?” Muriel brightened a bit. “Well… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. If it’s supposed to help.”
For once they talked about things other than Heaven and Hell and Aziraphale and storms. They talked about books and music, Maggie and Nina, sandwiches, and about the many various little interesting human-y things Crowley had learned and noticed on Earth over his many years living on it. They also talked about cocoa, of course.
Muriel drank their first cup of hot cocoa that very evening. They also felt they had made their first real friend then as well. They liked them both very much.