Chapter Text
Another rough day at the pub.
Crowley wasn't very social, and thanks to his little demonic miracles he didn't need to worry about strangers approaching him. Sadly, the miracle loosened its effect the more he got drunk, making the body guards throw him out after shouting and crying to a young random couple "you should go and FUCK in a motel, not here, where the ones who were just dumped have to deal visually with you, ARSEHOLES".
Yeah, he drank too much. And this wasn't the first time. Neither the fifth.
It has been like this since he lost his only companion on Earth. Since that horrific day at the bookshop, facing the only one he ever cared about, watching him reject and abandon him just to work with the same people who wanted both of them out of the Book of Life. Crowley just couldn't assimilate it.
After all those ages together, going around the world, watching every important event in human history, dining at the most iconic bars and restaurants ever funded, spending all the time together, always ending up at St James' Park feeding the ducks. Specially the fast rides in the Bentley, making the angel worry about the pedestrian rate lowering because of Crowley's need for speed...
You go too fast for me, Crowley.
A random memory crossed his mind, letting out a groan as he entered the car and locked himself in it.
He was so tired of this sorrow. Why was he the one to deal with it? Why was he the one to fall for the angel, and not the other way around? Why couldn't he just not give a damn and continue living on Earth as he always did? Why... Why did he miss him so much?
... Why was Aziraphale so convinced of leaving him?
All these thoughts just hit Crowley's drunk system like a brick, turning his stomach and sending sharp jabs to his head. Before any disaster could occur in the Bentley, he miracled away his intoxicated state and took a deep breath.
And then another. And another. And so on until he felt less nauseous. A big sigh escaped his lips, sliding his hand through his hair- it's been a long minute since he styled it or cut it, it was longer than usual and very sloppy. His outfits were also really messy, and he hasn't properly cleaned his glasses lately.
One hand went to the steering wheel, gripping it as he started up the engine with the other. His foot tamping on the pedal as usual.
* * *
While the fast-paced views surrounding the car reflected through the Bentley's windows, his eyes were fixed on a blank space in the horizon. He didn't know where he was heading, neither if there would be a final destination- he just wanted to drive non-stop.
Come with me... To Heaven.
A soft voice echoed in his mind, reminding him glimpses of that gut-wrenching moment. But he didn't even flinch this time. He just sighed.
Crowley was tired of pretending he wasn't hurt to the core. It has been almost a year since Aziraphale's departure and the loneliness was killing him. Not a single sign from the angel around him, not a single visit to the bookshop, not a single word exchange. It was almost like 6000 years of friendship never really meant anything to him. And that destroyed Crowley's human heart, piece by piece.
At first, he just played pretend, like nothing mattered to him either. Living among the humans as always, tempting them and being a little stubborn- that couldn't be difficult to pick up at all, right?
But the memories kept coming back to his mind, worsening his mental state and unmoved facet as the time passed, becoming more erratic and insufferable than ever.
He needed it out of his body as soon as possible- so, he just let it happen. He needed to feel sad. To feel rejected.
Oh, Crowley... Nothing lasts forever.
That one just hit right in the middle, where it hurt the most. It hurt him so bad he suddenly stopped the Bentley in the middle of the highway, almost throwing himself out of the front window. He gasped, dropping his head and groaning in relief, sliding a hand through his face, sighing deeply.
That was a close call. Not that it should really worry him, since he can regenerate his body by miracling it and whatever- but, knowing his depressive tendencies on situations like this, he would most probably get up from wherever he landed and keep driving with all the glass and dirt damaging his human body.
While reconsidering all his human life choices, a soft white noise came from the radio, catching his attention. Maybe some random chores from Hell were about to be announced to him- chores he would obviously avoid. Or maybe Muriel wanted to tell him something and found a way out to miracle a call through his radio.
... Or maybe, it was Azir-
I'll drown my beliefs
Oh. It was... A song. A really soft one.
To have your babies
A song he obviously never put on the tracklist.
It didn't surprise him, though. Lately, Bentley has been pretty silent- but whenever she put on music, it was melancholic tracks, none of them being by Queen, strangely. Crowley didn't understand her new taste on music, but he really didn't mind. Bentley was pretty gloomy since that day, too- she wasn't as fast as she used to be, neither as loud, but Crowley knows she was doing her best.
The song shifted in volume depending on the lyrics, like Bentley was trying to say something through them. Crowley sighed, adjusting his posture and looking at the dashboard. "What now." He said on a low tone, calm, waiting.
I'm not living, I'm just killing time
"That's not..." he sighed, looking away. It was true, and he should stop denying it.
Since Arizaphale left, he hasn't lived a day without thinking when will the wait be over- waking up to drink, distract himself around London, drive until sunset and repeat, hoping to wake up next morning with a call or sign from the angel. 'Cause, yes, Crowley still hoped for him to come back, at least once. He had to, he couldn't just leave everything behind- at least not that easily.
And true love waits
He frowned at the words, trying to hide in an upset smirk the growing ache in his chest, just where his human heart was. A knot formed in his throat, making it harder to avoid all the body signs leading to his tears. All those restrained emotions and spasms were so close to exploding all at once.
He didn't want to cry. He knew he needed it, but he didn't want to cry- not like this. Not now, nor ever. He hated crying for his angel. He shouldn't be crying for him- they should be together, at a table for two at the Ritz, sipping wine and laughing at the destiny...
All the memories replaying in his mind, all those moments of sharing things with Aziraphale, spending time together. Just the two of them, and no one else. How did all ended up like that? And why? Why them?
And true love lives
On lollipops and crisps
"Hah... 'Course." A breathless scoff slipped through his lips, followed by a shaky sigh. He wondered if Aziraphale missed Earth. The food, the sweets, the pastries, the wine, the books, his bookshop... If he missed him too. He removed his sunglasses, closing his eyes.
A warm tear dropped through his cheek, slowly, cautious. The skin of his face bristled at the sensation, like it was something unfamiliar to it. Gently, other tears made their way through his cheeks and chin, leaving his face and wrinkles completely wet by his anguish. A delicate, almost inexistent gasp escaped his mouth- one hand wiping his tears off, and the other wrapped around his torso, trying to settle down the chills and shaking.
Just don't leave
Don't leave
The silence after the last lyrics filled the air in the car, being Crowley's shaky breaths the only sound left.
He dropped softly his head forward, leaning his forehead on the back of his hand. He stood still, letting the tears fall on his thighs- there was nothing else to say. Nothing else to think about. Every time he thought about the angel, it was all in the past. Nothing new, nothing recent. Everything was too far from the present.
If only Aziraphale understood him- if only he actually listened to his words... Maybe, just maybe, Crowley wouldn't be so miserable daydreaming of a normal day at St James' Park feeding the ducks together, knowing perfectly at the end of each day that these dreams will never happen.
Crowley was doomed to live with it.