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Aziraphale was incredibly relieved that he was able to stop The Second Coming just as he had planned. He had only pretended to agree with The Metatron to infiltrate Heaven. He managed to delete the plans for The Second Coming and he erased everyone's memories of the whole thing. This included Gabriel's betrayal and exit, as well as the circumstances of his own promotion to Heaven's Supreme Archangel. As far as anyone was concerned, Gabriel himself promoted Aziraphale and then retired to Alpha Centuri. It had worked flawlessly and now he was able to return to his shop.
When he first entered, he was met with a few people perusing among the shelves. They didn't seem to interested in buying anything, just passing the time. And if they were, they quickly changed their minds when Muriel came around the corner saying that everyone needed to leave, because it was closing time. One potential customer even complained about the shop being open for barely half an hour. Aziraphale chuckled at that and this was when Muriel noticed him.
"Oh, hello Mr. Fell!"
He hadn't erased Muriel's memories because he knew they were one of the few good ones. He made sure that they'd have a good office Upstairs, should they decide to go back.
"Hello, Muriel. How have things been?"
"Great! Lots of people come here to look at books. I never let them buy any, though. Mr. Crowley told me I couldn't."
"He did, did he?"
"Oh, yes! Very adamant about that. Couldn't sell anything. Said it was against the rules."
"Did he give you any other rules?"
"Well, there was the 'no selling books'. The 'opening hours have to be followed exactly as the sign says', which gets a little confusing. I 'can't move any of the book piles', he said you had a system of some sort? So, I couldn't really move anything. But he said it's alright for me to use the feather duster, because 'you needed to do that more often'."
Aziraphale rolled his eyes fondly. "Of course he did. I'm not surprised. He cleans and organizes things when he's stressed."
"Is that why he comes to clean so often?"
"It seems likely, yes. Um... How is he?"
"Mr. Crowley?"
Aziraphale nodded.
"Well, he's been acting a bit different, now that you mention it."
"How so?"
"He doesn't seem as grumpy. It's a bit weird, actually."
"So, if he isn't as grumpy, what is he like now?"
"Like something is missing... And he can never find it."
Just then, the entrance bell rang and the door swung open. Both Aziraphale and Muriel looked towards the entrance. Speak of the devil. Well, demon. Crowley had entered the shop. Emphasis on entered. He didn't saunter in, as if he owned the place, like he usually would. He simply walked in, seemingly in deep thought, looking around before finally laying eyes on Muriel, completely ignoring Aziraphale.
"Oi, mouse! Good job closing on time today. You're getting better at that."
Just hearing his voice again made Aziraphale feel truly at home, though, the nickname threw him a bit off.
Muriel smiled proudly. "Thank you, Mr. Crowley!"
"Mouse?" Asked Aziraphale at the same time, still feeling a bit hurt about being ignored.
"I'm a demon, don't thank me- who are you? Friend of Muriel's? We don't get many angels around here, especially ones that aren't complete arseholes." He asked the former principality, he seemed protective.
"No need to be a guard-... snake, I suppose. I'm not here on Heaven's behalf."
"Right. Then why are you here then?"
With a sigh, and a twinge of embarrassment rising in his throat thanks to Muriel being there, Aziraphale began his apology dance. "You were right. You were right. I was wrong. You were right."
Rather than the usual smirk or laugh he'd receive from Crowley after preforming the dance, he was met with confusion.
"Okay...?" Was all that left the demon's mouth.
He hadn't expected that. From Muriel, sure. They had never seen or heard of the apology dance. It made total sense for them to be confused. But not Crowley. Hell, Crowley had invented the blasted dance, just to get on Aziraphale's nerves about him usually being right!
"Alright yes, I know it doesn't make up for everything, but it's a start. It was always a start whenever I knew I had to apologize to you."
The demon made a face. "When have you ever apologized to me?"
"What- dozens of times!"
Crowley shook his head. "Nah. You've got me confused with someone else."
Aziraphale scoffed, growing frustrated. "Crowley, please. I know we didn't part on the best terms, but there's no need for you to pretend you don't know me!"
The demon raised an eyebrow over his glasses, clearly eyeing him up and down. "Mate, I'm not pretending, I don't know you! And if I did, it must've been before The First Rebellion, when I still had my bloody halo!" Yelled Crowley before turning around and bending down to pick up a stack of books that was on the couch. He placed them on a nearby table, so he could lie down on the couch.
Muriel and Aziraphale shared a worried look.
"But, Mr. Crowley, you do know Mr. Fell. You were friends with him before he left for Heaven. You stopped the world from ending a few years ago because you both rebelled."
Crowley sighed, annoyed. "I didn't expect you to be the pranking type, church mouse. Not very good at it either. They're supposed to be fun."
"...What's a prank?"
Crowley paused for a moment and pursed his lips. "Hmm. Right. Guess we haven't gotten to that lesson yet..."
"And you won't be getting to it today, either!" Exclaimed Aziraphale, panic quickly rising in his chest. "If you truly didn't know me, why are you here?"
"What'd ya mean?"
"We're friends! This is my bookshop! My home, for over a century! You've been here hundreds of times and spent dozens of nights here! Muriel was only left in charge a year ago, after I was promoted to supreme archangel. We've known each other for over six millennia, Crowley..." Aziraphale's voice wavered.
Crowley was visibly confused by the information. Like he was questioning how he had ended up coming here so often lately. Why it had always felt like second nature. Why he had never questioned it. And how he could forget a so-called friend of 6,000 years. He shook his head.
"Prove it, then. Prove you know me."
Aziraphale almost looked offended by the demand. Well. Not just the demand. It was the tone in which he said it. It was like he was calling Aziraphale a liar.
The angel's face looked more and more frustrated as he looked around. The shop seemed to be exactly as he had left it. Minus the extra plants that were no doubt Crowley's doing. They actually made the whole place look cozier. There had to be something here that could convince Crowley. There just had to be!
He checked every inch he could think of. The back room, the flat upstairs, the cash register, his work desk. He eventually found the bullet catch photo, which had been hidden in one of his diaries. He stared at it for a moment. He was ever so grateful he had never gotten rid of it.
He strode into the back room where Crowley and Muriel still were. Muriel snuck a peek before Aziraphale handed Crowley the photo. The demon stared at it, perplexed. Mostly because he didn't remember it at all. This must have been a trick.
"How'd you miracle this?"
"What?"
"How'd you miracle this? You must have just made this. There's no way I wouldn't remember this. How did you hide the miracle's essence?"
"I did no such thing. This photo is real."
The demon rolled his eyes. "Right. Next, you'll tell me Muriel's been promoted to a dominion rank. No offense, mouse."
"None taken?"
"Look mate, I don't know what's going on. You should leave, before I make the shop block you from entering."
"It's my shop, Crowley. I'd like to see you try."
Not one to refuse a challenge, Crowley snapped his fingers. Everything in the shop dimmed for a moment. Then nothing. Crowley snapped again. Nothing.
Aziraphale smirked. Before Crowley knew what was happening, Aziraphale snapped his fingers. The demon was pulled out of the front doors of the shop. He looked about, frantically. He tried entering again, but an invisible force field stopped him. He banged and punched at it, but no matter what he did, it wouldn't budge.
Aziraphale walked to the shop's entrance. "Do you believe me now?" He asked, bringing his hand through the force field, extending it to the demon.
Crowley cautiously took it. He was pulled back into the shop and the building welcomed him in, like usual.
"Who are you?... Who am I to you? To this place?" Asked the redhead, not understanding anything.
Aziraphale looked sad for a moment. "I know you, Crowley. You're my best friend... My only friend..."
"...Why can't I remember you?" Crowley asked softly, almost like a hurt puppy.
Aziraphale felt a very particular kind of dread in his being. He sat both of them down in the shop's back room, figuring having Muriel there might give him some comfort. He went over many details from the past. Before the beginning, Eden, Mesopotamia and many, many more memories. Personal details about Crowley only he would know, because he never let many others get close. Things he liked. Music, foods, alcohol, his plants.
It took several hours, but eventually Crowley was able to recall something. Not from his past with Aziraphale, though. He remembered coming back from Hell, almost a year ago. Right before he started coming by the shop on a daily basis to give Muriel tips about the shop. But, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't remember why he had gone in the first place.
The demon grew frustrated with this feeling. How was it possible he remembered so many of these past events, but not Aziraphale himself? He remembered Eden. He remembered the great flood. Dozens and dozens more examples Aziraphale provided, but he couldn't remember the angel being there with him. He could remember someone else being there, yes. But the face of the other person was always a blur.
The two angels could see how upset Crowley was about the whole ordeal. For a moment, Aziraphale considered stopping. When he had first come back to Earth, he hadn't wanted this. He wanted to find Crowley and beg forgiveness. He had hoped that the demon would forgive him and they could go back to being friends again. Maybe something more.
Instead, here he was, watching Crowley as he wrecked his brain trying to remember him. It was a frustrating ordeal for the demon. And a heartbreaking one for the now supreme archangel. Meanwhile, Muriel had been thinking. Thinking hard. Until the lightbulb went off.
"Wait! What if we go through your memories?"
Crowley stopped holding his head and looked up from his lap. "What are ya on about, church mouse?" He sounded tired.
"Well, it sounds like your memories have been altered. What if we just go through them ourselves and try to fix them?"
Aziraphale's brow furrowed. "How exactly would we do that?"
"Healing! I remember about 3,000 years ago, I heard Raphael and other healers talking once. About how they had restored and changed some memories from angels who rebelled, but then begged for forgiveness."
"Uh-huh. Great idea, Muri. Except none of us are healers."
"No, but Mr. Fell is the supreme archangel! He can technically miracle himself to have any angelic skill or all of them. If he does that and you let him into your mind, he can go through all your memories to see what they did to them!" They said excitedly.
Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other. The demon was looking for a sense of familiarity. The one he knew had been there once, judging by everything he had heard.
"Would you trust me?" Asked the blond.
"Apparently, I used to... Why not now?" The demon looked hopeful. That was all Aziraphale needed to hear.
~~~~~
Aziraphale did exactly what Muriel said. Suddenly, his being was full of centuries worth of angelic healing techniques he never would have imagined. It was quite overwhelming. It took Aziraphale several minutes to recover from said sensation. When he finally did, the trio readied the upstairs flat's bedroom for the trip into Crowley's mind.
Aziraphale had made sure Heaven was no longer after any of them. Hell, however, was an unknown variable. In the event that they would come to the shop because he was trying to reverse whatever they had done to Crowley, Aziraphale thought up a small plan. He figured the safest thing would be to let the shop's wards be the first line of defense. Should they somehow pass that, Muriel would have to miracle them out of the shop for long enough to bring Aziraphale back to his own body.
At least, that is in the "worst case scenario" side of the spectrum. All three of them hoped nothing would happen. That Hell simply wouldn't notice. Or better yet, that they wouldn't care. They still made sure every precaution was taken before they began. Muriel sat against the bedroom door, essentially standing guard, while Aziraphale sat next to the bed.
Crowley laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. First, he had to calm himself as much as possible. Second, was to let down his inner walls. This took him a long time. Crowley truly wanted to trust Aziraphale but, he was still afraid. His main reason he was willing to try this at all was because he trusted Muriel. Sweet and naive Muriel, who had no malicious bone in their corporation and absolutely sucked at acting. So, if anyone had taken over Muriel, he'd be able to tell they were being controlled. (Literally no one in Heaven could act to save their lives.)
Eventually, Crowley closed his eyes and held up his hand. Aziraphale took it. Rather than the same trick they had done a few years ago for the body swap, where they both swapped essences, the demon wouldn't move his. He remained in his own body, while Aziraphale left his own and entered Crowley's. Unfortunately, Aziraphale's body slumped over, falling and breaking the connection.
Originally, the angel hadn't wanted to lie down on the bed with Crowley, because he could see how nervous the demon had been regarding the whole situation. That and the bed was fairly small and they had to lie down on their sides in order to fit. As they were trying to remain under the radar, they didn't want to risk using a miracle for a bigger bed. Having no other choice, Crowley moved, enough so Aziraphale could lie down next to him. After a few more moments to relax yet again, the demon shut his eyes and extended his hand. This time, Aziraphale took it and entered Crowley's body with no interruption.
~~~~~
The inside of Crowley's mind was curious. Aziraphale wouldn't have thought it looked anything like this. Darkly colored concrete walls, configured into a long corridor with doors on either side of the angel. The doors almost blended in perfectly with the rest of the walls, except for the fact that they were revolving doors. It reminded Aziraphale of Crowley's flat in Mayfair.
He pushed the first door open and peeked inside. It was a random memory from several years ago, just him doing a job for Hell. Nothing particularly important. He checked the next door. More of the same, except it was of him watching his favorite television show in his living room.
The angel kept going down the very long corridor. As he checked all the doors, he suddenly realized, he hadn't seen Crowley since entering his mind. Or rather, the real Crowley, not just memories of him. While he did find it a bit odd, he decided not to pry. After all, this whole endeavor had taken a lot of effort from the demon.
Aziraphale continued. Hours passed and Aziraphale hadn't found much. He was beginning to lose hope. And then he noticed something. The corridor was ending. At least, the corridor in the exact manner he had been seeing it until now.
The wall at the end was cracked, with small patches of greenery peeking through concrete. Aziraphale touched and tapped the wall, hoping it would revolve open just like the doors had. It didn't. So, he began to push the cracked surface. Bits of the wall started giving way. This was when Aziraphale decided to use his angelic strength.
It worked perfectly. The wall crumbled and crashed down. The angel was almost immediately blinded by the brightness from this new area. Once his eyes finally adjusted, he walked through the remains of the depressing structure and into a very familiar place. Eden.
At least, it looked like an almost exact recreation of the original garden. Minus a few details that didn't quite make sense at first. Scattered all over the place, Aziraphale could see random, hovering vine and leaf curtains, hanging off of nothing. When he finally reached the closest one, he realized they were this area's version of the memory doors. Same concept, but more personal.
When he opened this first one, his eyes had to adjust to the memory's darkness. It shut on him quickly, unlike the previous ones. The vines quickly covered it up again. The angel tried several times and the same thing happened. Finally, he summoned his flaming sword and cut the vine curtain. That worked, as it stopped covering the memory.
It was a memory from Hell, from a month after Aziraphale had left Earth.
Crowley made his way through various areas of Hell, slinking through undetected by anyone else. After being labeled as a traitor to Hell more than once, it's easy to know they'd never willingly help him. Hence why he had snuck in there in the first place. When he found the appropriate office, he waited until no one was inside and then snuck in. After rummaging through everything in sight, he seemingly found what he was looking for. He pocketed it and snapped his fingers.
Crowley was now back in his flat, alone and safe. He checked his locks and wards before walking into his office. He sat on his throne, an exhausted sigh left his lips. He checked his jacket's pocket and took out several small strips of dingy looking paper. He placed them on top of his desk. After staring at them for a good minute, he finally grabbed a nearby pen.
On the first, he wrote: 'Make me forget Aziraphale.'
On another: 'Make me forget I love him.'
On a third: 'Make me forget the pain of losing him.'
He then proceeded to fold the first strip of paper and he placed it on his tongue. Almost immediately, it began to hiss and sizzle at the contact. Soon enough, it was burning itself onto his tongue. Crowley groaned and writhed at the desk, trying very heard to not scream. His eyes watered as he clenched his mouth shut. He did it again for the other two pieces of paper.
After what felt like ages, every bit of the papers dissolved and Crowley passed out from the pain.
Aziraphale had watched the memory through tears. It hadn't been Hell at all. It had been Crowley. No one had forced him. He chose to forget Aziraphale.
The angel fell to his knees, wondering what he should do. If he had wanted to forget him, should he really keep going? Should he leave? Should he go find Crowley and tell him? At least that way, he'd know what the demon's true wishes were.
~~~~~
Unfortunately, finding Crowley without unblocking any more memories was proving impossible. There were so many vine curtains everywhere that he had no way of going through without cutting them down. Inevitably, cutting them down would unblock them. His guilt about it was certainly weighing on him. But he couldn't leave. He tried and it hadn't worked at all. Meaning: he needed to find Crowley.
He kept slashing every vine curtain and unblocking everything in his path. Most had been normal memories. Many had involved him. Some important, some less so. But he had noticed a pattern. In the previous area with the concrete walls, they had been more general memories. In 'Eden', all of the memories had involved Aziraphale in some way.
Several more hours passed and Aziraphale only had three curtains left to tear down. He slashed at the first one. A light shone brightly.
The night after Armageddon didn't happen. Crowley was in his flat sitting on his couch, watching Aziraphale reading the last prophecy. After they had come up with a plan, the demon was lost in thought.
'I need him to be right. This has to be right. I already lost him once today, I can't lose him again. Dear Someone, not again... This has to work...'
The fretting continued as Aziraphale broke down the details for the plan. When they had done the body swap, Crowley's innermost thoughts flooded his mind. About Aziraphale. About himself. Everything.
As if Aziraphale needed confirmation that the demon loved him. He shook his head. He tried with all his might to focus on the task ahead. He went on to the next curtain. One blazing slash was all it took to reveal the next memory.
Nina from the coffee shop had just made him realize he wasn't hiding his love at all. This whole time, Crowley had believed he was keeping that secret under wraps. Like a very well guarded secret. But the fact that a normal mortal could tell he loved Aziraphale? That just proved he'd been hiding that secret in a display window for everyone to see.
He was embarrassed. Frustrated. Annoyed with himself, really. How had he been so careless? And yet... If it was that obvious to a human, had it been just as obvious to Aziraphale?
The demon's mind was going at hyper speed. Eventually, it landed on confessing his feelings to Aziraphale. He just needed to find the right time. Then the whole disaster at the ball happened and he had forgotten his plan. Had it not been for Maggie and Nina scolding him for playing matchmaker, he might have gone a few more decades without telling Aziraphale how he felt. That was it then. He'd tell him as soon as he'd come back to the shop.
Aziraphale walked away from that memory, dreading what the next one would be. Then he stepped in front of the last vine curtain in the entire garden. He burned the foliage. It turned to ashes at his feet. The light shone brightly.
Crowley watched as Aziraphale stepped into the elevator with the Metatron. He climbed into the Bentley, shutting off the radio as soon as it began to play a song. Crowley was not in the mood. He drove somberly, tears slowly running down his face the entire way to his flat. When the demon finally made it home, he slumped down to the floor, hugging his knees.
'I should have known. I should've known I couldn't be loved by him... Or anyone, for that matter. Just a demon... Forced to be alone again...'
For the next few days, Crowley sulked in the flat, drinking and miserable. He was being drowned by both the loneliness and his own insecurities. He hadn't been this consumed in millennia. The last time it had happened this bad, it had been in the 14th century. Crowley had assumed it couldn't get that bad again. He hated being so wrong.
He kept wishing he could ignore these feelings. Pretend it never happened. That he hadn't spooked his best and only friend into Heaven's arms. To make things worse, he'd constantly see his former angelic self on every reflective surface. Taunting him. Haunting him. The constant reminder of what Aziraphale had truly wanted. Probably the only version he could ever love back.
He had hoped that the drinking could have made him forget the ache in his being. When that didn't work, Crowley recalled a specific form of torture they did in Hell. One which could aid him in his heartbreak as he'd wait for the end again.
Aziraphale wiped away his tears with his sleeve. He looked around. Still no sign of Crowley. He let out a shaky exhale. The angel knew he had to be here. It was simply a matter of finding him.
~~~~~
Unbeknownst to Aziraphale, Crowley had been locked away, inside the forbidden fruit tree's trunk the entire time. Even though Hell hadn't directly altered his memories, the method used was still their infernal magic. Their rules. Therefore, it had an effect when someone would try reversing the alteration. Even if it was wanted by the original manipulator.
He had been trapped there as soon as Aziraphale had entered his mind. And the only reason he was able to escape was Aziraphale unblocking the altered memories. When the tree's bark finally gave way, Crowley fell forward. He gasped, letting his lungs fill with as much air as possible. Mainly due to panic. It wasn't as though he actually needed to breathe, what with him being a demon and all. Especially not here in this place.
Crowley crawled until he reached the nearby stream. He threw water on his face, gasping all the while, trying to cool himself. While trapped in the tree, he had felt like he was boiling alive. Realistically, he knew it was a result of panic. After all, he hadn't actually been hot to the touch.
As he threw more water onto himself, the unblocked memories suddenly entered his conscious mind again. He clutched his head and screamed from the pain. The scream echoed throughout Eden. Within moments, the angel found him. He fell down to his knees in front of Crowley and grabbed his shoulders, checking him.
"Crowley! Are you alright?" Asked the archangel, worry quickly growing with every silent second that followed.
Crowley's gaze was distant for a while. Eventually, his eyes focused on Aziraphale. "I remember..." He said softly.
Suddenly the pained scream made sense to the former principality. His heart broke. But before he was able to apologize, he noticed Crowley growing anger. The demon had focused on the water beneath them. Both their reflections could be seen atop the water's surface.
Aziraphale's was normal. Crowley's was not. Instead, it was his former angelic self staring back at him. 'Staring' being the key word there, as this wasn't a proper reflection. The real Crowley was seething, while the fake one was smiling coldly.
"Crowley?" Aziraphale asked, cautiously.
The demon's eyes had gone completely yellow as he turned.
"Sorry to disappoint, angel. But you're never getting this version of me back." He spat out.
He looked down again and punched the shallow stream, causing the water to splash along with some mud from his fist hitting the ground.
"This isn't me! And it never will be again!" He yelled bitterly.
Aziraphale placed a hand on Crowley's shoulder, which made him turn towards him once more. The demon was frustrated and his newly formed tears were threatening to fall.
Aziraphale cupped Crowley's face. "Oh, my dear boy... Despite everything you've been through, since before The Beginning, you're still that angel. Well, not literally but, you're still the same beautiful soul I met building that nebula... You are still kind. You are still full of wonder and joy. You still have a good heart... And I am so sorry I broke it..."
Crowley blinked and his tears fell as he forcefully shut his eyes. He felt Aziraphale kiss his forehead. He sobbed in response. Aziraphale kept speaking.
"I'm sorry I left the way I did. But I needed to make sure you wouldn't follow me. You wouldn't have been safe Up There, even if you had agreed to be an angel again. More than anything, I needed you safe. I've loved you for so long, my dear. I'm sorry I never said it and made you think I didn't love you back. Or that I could only love you if you were an angel..." Said the archangel, pressing their foreheads together.
The fake angel in the water disappeared, the demon's true reflection coming through. Aziraphale had assumed this was a part of Crowley's past insecurity finally letting him go.
Aziraphale inhaled deeply and pulled away from Crowley. His exhale came out shakily, like he was holding back tears. "But you wanted to forget me. I can respect that... So, let's get out of here and I can wipe your memory of me again, in a painless manner, just like I did to the rest of Heaven. You'll be rid of me for good and I'll never come back."
Crowley opened his eyes. "...Is that what you want?"
"That's not important-"
"Yes, it is. You said you've loved me the whole time! And the whole bloody reason I wiped my memories, was because I thought you could never love me and you had been brainwashed into ending the world with Heaven! So, I'll ask you again, angel: is that what you want?"
Aziraphale shook his head.
"Would you come back to Earth? To the shop?... To me?"
Aziraphale nodded.
Crowley smiled warmly and scoffed. "Then why the fuck would I let you go again?" He asked as he pulled in the angel for the tightest hug he had ever received. Aziraphale had been caught off guard but quickly hugged him back. Neither of them had ever had this comfort, so they savored it before parting.
This had easily been the most intimate they had ever been with each other. Well. Except for the last time they had been in the shop together. They both seemed to remember that moment because they blushed at the same time. Aziraphale more than Crowley.
Crowley cleared his throat. "Shall we get out of here?"
Aziraphale nodded. "Yes, please."
~~~~~
The pair soon returned to the conscious world in their respective bodies. They awoke with a gasp which nearly scared Muriel to death. They had been keeping watch for hours. Evidenced by how dark it was outside. They told Muriel all the details, since they immediately bombarded the pair with questions.
Soon after that, Crowley and Aziraphale asked for some privacy, since they needed to go over many things. Setting boundaries. Expectations. Apologies. Proper love confessions. Anything else they could think of, just being happy to be near each other again.
That was a big part of it. Although the conversation lasted for several hours, a lot of it was spent in silence. The warmth and familiarity of just occupying the same space had made them feel safe again. Just like they'd always done for one another.
And eventually, Aziraphale managed to voice something that had been on his mind for quite some time.
"Could you... Do it again?"
Crowley smiled knowingly. He gently cupped Aziraphale's face. The angel blushed. Crowley then leaned in and gave Aziraphale the sweetest, most love filled kiss he could muster.