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It began as it would end with the garden,
Aziraphale had chosen a H. G. Wells, the time machine. It felt fitting, they were rewriting the history of everything after all. The bookshop was still warm and bright as he went to sit at his desk although outside world was still a blank void so not real the world at all. Who knew the end times could be so cozy? “Crowley, will you help me?” he called to the demon currently sprawled on the back rooms sofa. “I cant remember everything in the world after all.” He let out a little chuckle at his own joke, one had to find a way to laugh even in times like this after all. “Crowley?” there was a faint sense of unease crawling into the pit of his stomach now, the destruction of the book of life had never happened before so this really was all new territory, they were safe here but for how long? What if Crowley had already disappeared and he would never get to hear his awful jokes or see those gentle warm eyes again. Aziraphale could feel himself panicking as he stood back up and took a nervous glance through the stacks of books. Nothing. His breathing had already sped up in fear as he bolted to the back of the shop, he didn’t normally run as it scuffed his shoes but he had to know where Crowley was. He stopped in the backroom skidding slightly on the floor boards as he glanced around frantically, a man in all black shouldn’t be so hard to spot in a yellow room.
His eyes settled on the sofa, right where Crowley was meant to be. “Crowley!” he shouted causing the black lump of clothes and blanket to shift, “ehh. Angel what is it?”
“You were asleep? How can you be sleeping at a time like this?” He was trying to sound stern and disappointed but panic was seeping into his voice along with the threat of tears, he had only just got the love of his life back and he sure as heaven was not going to lose him again. “I’ve been in an alleyway for months angel, I deserve to be comfortable don’t I?” the demon sat up slowly yawning and rubbing blearily at his eyes, “That was hardly a nap, I’ve slept for over a hundred years before.” He stretched and Aziraphale could hear his joints popping although why he made his body do that he could never understand, they both breathed because early humans had definitely noticed the absence and it had become habit now but there really was no good reason for Crowley to allow his form to do that. Crowley blinked up at the Angel, “Whats wrong?” he asked obviously seeing the distressed look on his partners face. Aziraphale had to fight back tears, “I thought you were gone.”
“Oh. Angel I’m sorry.” Crowley stood up in a tangle of limbs and swaggered over towards his angel. Aziraphale felt an arm settle around his shoulders and the warmth of another body next to his. He brought up his hand and let it settle on Crowleys chest feeling the cold leather of his waistcoat, he even felt the soft thumping of a heart. Crowley must have started pumping blood around just for him. He always said he was cold blooded but really he was rather nice. He looked up at his demon with a small smile. “You can nap later, we need to write everything down now.” Crowley smiled down at him, his eyes were uncovered and they soft and warm as they looked at him, “Alright then Angel, lets save the world one last time.”
Aziraphale sat down on his chair once again but this time Crowley was by his side, perched awkwardly on the arm half leaning against his shoulder. “What was it I said again?” he murmured, “When were in the garden?” Aziraphale smiled as he opened the book and prepared his best fountain pen, “I believe it was something about a ballon my dear.” He gently tapped the pen against his ink well ensuring it wouldn’t smudge as he wrote, ‘That went down like a lead ballon.’
How long they spent sat there they weren’t quite sure but eventually the first book was filled, then another and another and another.
It was Crowley who noticed it first, when they got to the late 1500’s and Shakespeare was written back into existence, a faint glow coming from a book. When he opened it he was met with writing, “Two families both alike… Angel. Its working!” He had never been so happy to see a wretched play before. He rushed to show it to his Angel whose face lit up in excitement. “My first edition, no damage…. It really is working.” They wasted no time after that.
Crowley was no help with the Spanish civil war, he slept through it after all but luckily human history was one of Aziraphale’s many strengths. Aziraphale had no good knowledge of any pop culture after the 60’s but luckily Crowley had devoted much of his cold war era to being a roadie. They worked very well together.
“What book should we use for Maggie and Nina?” Crowley shouted across the shop, the supply of books was definitely beginning to dwindle now, all of history including before creation took up a lot of space. A few old favourites had been put aside at Aziraphales insistence, a small personal collection. Once Crowley had thought it impossible for his angel to part with any book, he tried hard enough to stop any customers but he had been wrong. The one thing Aziraphale loved more than his books was the world, and Crowley obviously but he was thinking more about mortal things. “Definitely a Jane Austin,” Aziraphale called from his desk where he was just finishing up a paragraph on Oscar Wilde, “perhaps Emma?” Crowley scanned the shelves, “still can’t believe Jane wrote books,” he murmured to himself. Him and Aziraphale remembered her very differently. They had used a book on witches for Anathema and Newt, some childrens book that were very colourful for Adam and friends, it seemed polite to match the book to the person. He wasn’t sure if he even was a demon anymore but polite and nice were still going to take some getting used to.
Aziraphale had only just begun writing when something strange happened. They had grown so used to their small sanctuary in the void even as dust gathered by the time they reached the first coming, so used to it that any change was apparent. As he wrote light shined into the bookshop, from outside. They both looked up and saw across a still materialising road was the coffee shop.
The rest of the street came quickly after that. “Do you think we can change things a little?” Aziraphale asked, “just a smidge, let Nina and the others keep their shops and maybe a little more peace and less suffering.” Crowley smirked at him over a glass full of wine, a demon cant live on cocoa alone, “There not in charge now Angel, there doesn’t have to be suffering for the sake of it anymore.” The angel nodded and went back to writing.
Crowley handled the science and space stuff, it was nice going back to it now that there were no sides or inevitable falls. For a moment he felt truly free again until they had to discuss what to do with upstairs and downstairs. “They are toxic angel, it wont work”
“Its not right to simply wipe them out of existence.” It had been a brief argument but resolved as all things were. They had combined them into one middle level, no more divine punishment or measuring sins they were there for quality control, a joint afterlife care, note keeping, all gloriously mundane middle management. There had been protests at first, another uprising but that was handled by the new HR department and any complaints could be placed into the suggestions box.
“I’ve been thinking,” Aziraphale said one morning, they had just restored day and night. Australia wasn’t quite in working order yet but once they sorted out all the animals it would all be fine. “I don’t want to act as god. I want them to free, properly free this time.” He looked up at Crowley, that was why he had joined the rebellion all those years ago, he wanted to given them the right to chose and ask questions. He nodded, “I agree, Angel.” It was easy, one miracle in a back room of the new middle ground, a book and a pen enchanted to write history as it happened, no tampering and the people had free will like they always should of. The full books stayed in the bookshop, “I rather like the title Guardian of Creation.” Aziraphale told Crowley flashing his notice of transfer, “They should give your sword back Angel.”
“Oh no Crowley, you know I’m trying to be as peaceful as possible.” The demon let out a small chuckle, “Alright then, how about some dinner? The Ritz popped back up yesterday.”
It ended where it began, in a garden. Aziraphale had been a little cheeky, he added a garden out the back of the bookshop and that’s where they sat now. Aziraphale was sat reading one of his surviving books while Crowley was once again sprawled out using the angels thighs as a pillow. Aziraphale absentmindedly ran a gentle hand through Crowleys hair, he had grown it out a little. The sound of traffic and voices echoed from outside, there were cakes from Nina on the table. Everything was as it should be.
So two entities sat in the bookshop in the centre of creation and allowed the world they loved so deeply to flow around them, finally free and uncontrolled after all this time.