Chapter Text
The weather in Soho was devastatingly perfect. The sun was warm, the breeze was cool, but Crowley had never felt more alone.
Having been on Earth since the Garden of Eden, he was no stranger to bad days throughout the centuries. But ever since the angel left, life felt utterly meaningless. Knowing he had to spend the rest of his immortal life feeling like this, was killing him.
At first he was driving. Days upon days; not stopping for even a second. The weather didn't matter, nothing mattered. After sometime, he decided he needed to get drunk. Not knowing how else to deal with this heartbreak. He drove back to Soho finding a quiet alleyway, big enough to hide the Bentley, staying close to the Bookshop; keeping an eye on it. The car was his new home again he didn't even think about his flat anymore. He got tired of driving; and where he used to live was too far for walking so, he just gave up but he still wanted some privacy.
From time to time he looked over the Bookshop; Muriel was struggling. They didn't know how to run a Bookshop, hell– they didn't even know how the world was working; it's still was their first visit to Earth, just a bit longer one than expected. They accidentally let a cat in, the cat was scratching and biting the books. Muriel tried their best to miracle the books back to their original state. Crowley couldn't stand it. As much as he didn't want to admit it; The Bookshop was his favorite place, even after everything that happened.
So once in awhile he popped up to help Muriel. Teaching them how to; organize the books, keeping the place clean and of course not letting any customer buy anything.
After every time, he went to the Dirty Donkey bar. Buying any cheap booze that he can buy from the money he had in the Bentley, which wasn't a lot but, he always find a new way to get cash. He was never worried about money before; he could always miracle more but miracling money or just anything, wasn't an option anymore.
Hell has cut him off, there's nothing else he could possibly do.
When he was short on cash, he gambled. Every win made his ego slightly bigger; thinking he can do anything. Then he tried to double it, most of the attempts were unsuccessful. Crowley lost a lot valuables in the process, including; The original Mona Lisa painting that he had in his flat, his throne and a couple of plants. Of course keeping a few, he wasn't ready to lose all of them too.
He had been doing that for one hundred and eighty-two days. (not like he had been counting the days since he left, not at all.)
He had always been a very private person. (well... not a person, an independent demon who wanted nothing to do with Hell or Heaven anymore.) He barely communicated what he truly felt and now he was sure he would never do that again.
But this time was different. He was on the way to the bar after helping Muriel again, hands in pockets , walking fast just wanting to get this over with. as he got closer he noticed a note on the door: 'Sorry bar is closed today, family emergency.' "Shit." He murmurd. Crowley stood in place and sighed, in the corner of his eyes he sees the Bookshop; he remembered seeing earlier today a bottle of whiskey that he recommended to Aziraphale in the 30s.
Oh how he missed drinking with the angel.
He decided to head back and search for the bottle.
There he was on the couch, in the back room of the Bookshop. There was a small table next to him on it was; empty wine bottles and half finished whiskey. Around him, some of the books on the shelves were covered in dust. Muriel hadn't really been to the back room and Crowley was too exhausted to clean it.
He'd been sitting on the couch for 9 hours now, drinking anything he could get his hands on.
He felt dizzy, his vision was foggy and the fact that he was wearing sunglasses in a dark room didn't help at all. One of his hands was laying straight at the table holding the whiskey and the other one on his forehead. "Agh... he growled. one hundred and eighty-two days Angel...", he mumbled under his breath. He laid down on the couch, still holding the bottle hoping to get the feeling of alcohol to calm down just a bit. "What's the point of anything?" he said, voice deep and broken. Pressing the lenses further onto his face.
Snapping his fingers together, forgetting that hell revoked his abilities to perform miracles. "Right."
He was tired, angry and heartbroken. But he couldn't stay mad at Aziraphale for long after all, even though he was hurt, he blamed heaven for everything, somehow he was still optimistic that there is a slight chance that Aziraphale might come back.
Crowley's last conversation with the angel was playing in his head over and over again. ("if Gabriel and Beelzebub- could do it, go off together then we can." , " oh Crowley... nothing lasts forever." , "you idiot, we could have been... us.", "I forgive you." And the kiss.. he was so desperate to make Aziraphale stay with him that he wasn't thinking when he kissed him, he wanted to prove him that he needs him. They really didn't need Heaven or Hell, just running away together to Alpha Centauri was the only good option in his book.
Aziraphale once told Crowley in 1967 that he was going too fast for him, Crowley took that to heart. But how can 6,000 years be too fast? how could he just leave him for heaven right after he told him he lov–
He growled loudly in despair before closing his eyes and laying down until his body finally gave in and allowed him to slowly doze off.
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Heaven.
The now Supreme Archangel Aziraphale was sitting at his desk, filling out paperwork. He never let himself rest, he even stopped consuming food. He'd desperately tried to prevent the second coming from being too apocalyptic, he's in charge of Heaven now and he can make it better.
His desk was filled with paperwork and a few pens and, because he was in charge; he allowed himself to bring material objects to heaven and nobody could complain but nonetheless, it was organized nicely. He had just finished filling the paperwork to help to speed up the process of Jesus getting a new mortal body.
He was exhausted, the new responsibilities were crushing him down. He didn't even want that job. He wanted to stay on Earth, the only place that felt like home. So many things he wanted to do like; trying the new Italian restaurant he heard so much about, to maybe finally start writing his own book. Not even to publish it, just to cherish in his arms and put it on display, just for himself.
He got so lost in thought that, his fingers accidentally let go of the pen; dropping easily on the floor. The sound it made, had brought back Aziraphale to reality. "Oh." A small gasp escaped his mouth, he pulled his chair slightly back and bent over as he retrieved the pen in his hands.
Sitting back to a straight posture, he looked down at his clothes and noticed his tie was a bit crooked. He wore Gabriel's old clothes, he really hated wearing them, it made him feel suffocated. He sighed and fixed the tie. his hand slowly raised up to reach his lips, touching them softly with two fingers, closing his eyes and remembering every time Crowley was by his side. but he couldn't stop thinking about the last time they have seen each other.
He wanted to tell Crowley after the kiss 'Please do it again.' but he couldn't and he felt terrible. The feeling of guilt, confusion and sorrow was overwhelming to him.
He turned his head to look at the miniature, levitating replica of Earth in his office. He put one of his hands on the side of his head, making sure the Metatron isn't watching him or any other angels. He got up and slowly walked over the replica, zooming in on his Bookshop in London. He was so worried that something bad will happen to it again but he was assured when he saw that everything was fine. He spotted the angel Muriel going inside the shop, Aziraphale knew that the Metatron had asked them to keep an eye on the Bookshop. He smiled softly and thought to himself ("I hope it's not too hard on them but I'm sure they will take good care of my shop.")
Muriel started talking to a figure in dark clothing who was laying down on the couch, Aziraphale couldn't figure who it was at first and then he noticed the red hair.
("Oh. Crowley..."), Aziraphale smile faded slowly. He tried to zoom in on the window to see the demon's face, realizing he cannot see inside of the Bookshop very clearly and than he had an idea. He paced the office trying to figure out what to say, he had decided to write Crowley a letter. He missed him so much but he was afraid to talk to him in person, he didn't know what he was going to say and that scared him. He was afraid he would ruin it all over again and make the demon hate him. He walked over to his desk again, he miracled a piece of paper, it had the smell of old books and sunshine dust, one of his favorites. With that he miracled an envelope as well, sitting down on the chair and started to write out the letter.
My dear Crowley.
I'm writing you this just as I finished all of my paperwork for today as the new Supreme Archangel. I'm doing fine but it's rather lonely up here if I'm honest. I really wish you were here. We could have talked over a glass of wine or shared dinner at the Ritz. I miss your presence near me, I really do. I can't stop thinking about our last moment together, I wanted to say more but I was scared well... I was terrified. I wanted to stay but it's my duty as an angel to be faithful to Heaven and the Almighty. Heaven is where I am, but my heart will always be with you; and this is the truth I will always cherish. I need you to understand that I'm doing this for you, for humans to have better opportunities. A real chance, to be good. We both know that I need to do this, I can change Heaven for the greater good. I even persuaded the other archangels to make the second coming less apocalyptic, no scary horses this time. It was a funny situation, you would have laughed. You could've come with me but I understand why you didn't, it was selfish of me to assume that you want to be an angel once again, I perhaps don't know exactly what happened to you but I'm sure it wasn't good. I just wanted to see that smile again. All I want to say is, I'm sorry Crowley. I truly didn't mean to hurt you and I'm sorry it ended up like this. I do want to be 'us' , I wish we could run away together like you wanted ,but I couldn't just go away. Leaving humanity to goodness knows what, I suppose we don't always get what we want. I care about you a lot Crowley, and I always have. I hope you don't get into trouble, but I trust you to do the right thing. I hope that you are well.
I miss you.
- Aziraphale.
With every word he was writing it felt like sharp stabs in his heart, he truly hated the way he acted. He could have said different things to at least let Crowley know that he feels the same way.
He put the letter inside of the envelope and closed it nicely. He tried to compose himself before calling an angel to his office.
He called the name Sandalphon, who is one of the Archangels that used to be in charge of him. "Sandalphon, can you come here for a moment?" Aziraphale asked the empty room he was in. From a distance an angel walked towards Aziraphale's desk, he walked very slowly. finally reaching Aziraphale's desk he opened his mouth and spoke; "What is it that you need Aziraphale?'' he asked.
Sandalphon never liked Aziraphale. fraternizing with a demon, stopping the Armageddon but now it was more like hatred. From being just a principality to a Supreme Archangel in a blink of an eye, he thought it was absurd but he still tried to show respect to Aziraphale as far as he could.
"I need you to go down to Earth and give this to Muriel," Aziraphale said with a soft serious voice. "What is it?" Sandalphon responded. "Well... it's instructions of how to run my Bookshop, I had owned it for more than two hundred and twenty years and I will absolutely hate if something bad will happen to it, you understand."
Sandalphon tried to hide his slight annoyed expression on his face but unfortunately it was unsuccessful, before he spoke again he sighed. "Fine. I will go look for Muriel and give them the instructions." Aziraphale gave him a soft smile and responded "Ah lovely, thank you. I hope it's no trouble." Sandalphon made a "Mhm." sound in approval. "Thank you again, you're free to go." Aziraphale gave Sandalphon the envelope, the second it left his hand the other angel already walked away. Aziraphale sighed deeply as he tried to put his mind on something else, it wasn't as easy he thought it would be.
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Crowley was barely awake, obviously not very capable to listen to whatever Muriel had to say. "I think flowers will be a great addition to the Bookshop! it might distract people from looking at the books because they will be looking at the flowers, isn't it great?!" Muriel said excitedly.
"Yeah- you go do that.'" Still visibly drunk and if it wasn't worse enough, he began to have a headache too. His voice was low. "Do you really think it's a good idea?" their eyebrow lifted up. "Yeah it's a great idea, now go ahead off you pop." Crowley laid his head down back to the cushion, he felt like the entire Bookshop was spinning, he really didn't have the energy to deal with anyone. Muriel looked at Crowley and gave him a big smile. "Jolly good then!, I will look for the best flowers to put on display. it will make the bookshop look even more beautiful, so; I shall go my way to the flower shop!" They turned around quickly walked a few steps before skipping a little and then continued their way out of the bookshop's door. "Aghh..."
Keeping his eyes closed, trying to force himself back to sleep. Feeling the guilt and anger he had built up inside crushing his chest, making him struggle to breathe. (not that he needed to breathe but he got so used to it that he felt that if he's not going to sit back up and try to regulate his breathing, he is going to discroperate.)
He slowly sat back on the couch, took a big raggedy breath and stared at the half finished whiskey for around a minute before deciding; he didn't care anymore, he took another shot right out of the bottle.
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Muriel walked to find the nearest flower shop, they were still very confused about navigating on Earth since they had only been here for the past 6 months. (Usually staying very close to the shop.) They looked around admiring their surrounding,
Muriel walked the street before accidentally bumping against someone. That someone was the angel Sandalphon. "I'm so sorry– oh Archangel Sandalphon! lovely to see you here! what are you doing in London?"
The higher ranked Angel spoke with a serious tone. "I came here to deliver a package for you from Aziraphale." He pulled out the envelope from his chest pocket and handed it over to Muriel. Muriel could tell that Aziraphale had made it himself. "What's in it?" Muriel asked. "He said it was the instructions of how to run his Bookshop, I never understood his love for these things, grossly humanly pleasure." Sandalphon said mockingly.
"Oh that's so very good! I think I'm doing a pretty good job but it's always good to get help!" they hugged the envelope carefully, trying not to crush it. "I'll be gone now" he began turning around before Muriel had stopped him. "Wait!" Sandalphon turned around again to face Muriel. "What?" his voice was cold. "Can I ask how is he doing? I hope he's okay." "He is doing his job, that's all you should care about." "Oh." Muriel frowned. Can you tell him I said hi?" Sandalphon sighed. "Fine." Before turning around again and disappearing.
Muriel couldn't wait any longer and opened the envelope, after reading for a few seconds they realized this is a personal letter from Aziraphale to Crowley. they gasped ("Oh my! I need to get it to Mr Crowley fast!") Muriel ran back to the Bookshop as fast as they could, pushing open the door hard, it had made a loud boom which startled Crowley.
Crowley yelled, "Ah! what the hell is going on?!" looking at Muriel standing in the doorway of the back room of the Bookshop. Muriel tried to catch their breath, they took a second to calm down. "I was on my way to the flower shop and I saw the angel Sandalphon! He gave me an envelope with a letter that was made for you!" Crowley sat on the couch utterly confused "Eh?" "It's from Aziraphale!" Crowley's eyes opened wild, though nobody could see it because of his black sunglasses blocking the way. "Did he now? Let me see that." He was still very drunk, he tried to focus to remain sober but right now it was the last thing on his mind. Muriel handed over the envelope to Crowley. Crowley snatched the envelope from Muriel's hand, he took off his glasses revealing his beautiful golden serpent eyes. He had thrown his glasses on the table, He opened the envelope quickly, pulling out the letter and ripping it open. He read every word twice making sure to read it well, his heart aches every time. His mouth was open slightly trying to concentrate on the letter. when he finally reach the end he couldn't speak, the words "I miss you" were echoing in his head. Muriel felt uneasy with Crowley's reaction "Are you okay Mr Crowley...?"
they tried to speak but they only could ask quietly. A small sound was all that came out out of Crowley's mouth "ngk," and than an extremely quiet "I don't know..." "Do you want to be left alone?" Muriel asked, it sounded more concerned than they intended to. "Um- yeah..." he said barely above a whisper, still looking intensely at the letter. Stuck in his own thoughts not hearing that Muriel already had stepped away. "Oh Angel... what am I going to do with you." His voice was soft and hushed, he didn't know what to do. He wanted to go look for Aziraphale in Heaven, run to him- capturing him in a hug, asking him to come back but he couldn't just do that- no-no, it wasn't like him, it only ever happens in the movies. He couldn't deal with that, not today, not now. To get himself together he decided to try go to sleep, he couldn't just stay there do nothing but he wasn't ready to take action just yet, it was the only thing he could have done to keep him sane for the night.
He got up slowly and walked upstairs looking for Aziraphale's bedroom, holding the letter tightly. The angel rarely used the room, it was more to put his favorite collections of vintage books aside, write his diary and on a very rainy day, sitting on the bed and reading a book. Unlike Crowley, Aziraphale never slept. He wanted to be involved in the world as much as he could; he didn't want to miss anything because he slept. Taking advantage of the fact that he didn't really need to sleep to stay active. When Crowley entered the room for the first time, he immediately caught the strong scent of Aziraphale's cologne. He looked around admiring the beautiful decor; the space was bathed in a soft, dim light filtering through heavy cream-colored curtains, there was a gorgeous old vintage desk with so many books stacked on it, Aziraphale's reading glasses were on the night stand and in the middle of the room a king size bed and a closet. He walked over to the angel's closet and opened it, all of his clothes were still there hung nicely, nothing out of the ordinary, until he spotted the coat that Aziraphale bought for himself in Paris 1793. The night they had eaten crêpes together, just a few hours prior.
He remembered Aziraphale's face, the most beautiful thing to ever exist. He was so happy, they both were. The angel couldn't stop talking about how refreshing buying the coat felt, it was a great day. The demon gave a soft smile at the memories. He took the coat out of the closet and sat down on the bed, he took off his shoes and laid down putting the letter next to him. He curled his body like a ball on the bed hugging the coat, he was surprised when the coat smelled like old books and hot cocoa. He smiled again with a slight blush. He pulled the coat closer to his face and hugged it tighter. "I miss you too, Angel." He said as one small tear fell out of his eye, finally closed his eyes and drifted off.