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Sleepless nights had become something of a normalcy to Anthony, and when he did sleep, he had strange dreams. There was a man with fair hair, a bookshop, and an old Bentley. Anthony had never seen this man before in his life and he wasn’t one to frequent bookshops, or drive old cars.
One afternoon, he was walking down a pleasant street filled with shops and the like, when he caught sight of a bookshop that looked similar enough to the one in his dream. Before he’d really realized that he’d started toward it, he was inside and asking about books on Astrophysics. He didn’t really need any books on Astrophysics as he was in fact an Astrophysicist himself and had written his own book about the matter.
The kindly bookseller tried to offer him the very book he’d written and as the man was blushing over his blunder, Anthony couldn’t help but think he bore a striking resemblance to the man in his dreams. As the man continued to ramble, Anthony found himself growing quickly fond of him, and was happy to take a different book he offered him; he had, in fact, been wanting to read it.
He left the shop behind trying to shake the tug in his chest that told him to turn back. That man… it couldn’t be. Anthony wasn’t sure he believed in that sort of thing. Destiny. Fate. But maybe…
“Oi! I mean, excuse me, stop!”
Anthony almost couldn’t believe it. No one had ever chased after him in his life. He must have left something behind. He asked if that was so, but no, the man was holding out the book he’d written towards him.
“Oh, I told you, two boxes…”
“No, I know, um…sorry, a bit puffed. Um, no, I bought it. Would you– could you sign it for me?”
Anthony found himself quite chuffed as he indulged the man, Asa, as he soon learned. The rest was history, as they say. But those pesky dreams didn’t seem to go away, in fact the more time he spent with Asa, the more Anthony was sure these were more than dreams. They felt like memories, like a life he’d lived before.
Many weeks later, that damn car was on his mind as he was taking a stroll that would eventually lead him to Asa’s bookshop so they could have lunch together. He was two streets away when he saw it. A black Bentley was sitting curb-side; it looked identical to the one in his dreams. He approached it hesitantly, walking in a circle around it and finding not a single blemish on it that hadn’t been in his dream.
“Can I help you?” A man had come outside and looked at Anthony with a suspicious raise to his eyebrows.
“I’m sorry, is this your car?”
“It’s a pile of junk is what it is,” the man replied. “I’ve been trying to get it collected for weeks now.”
The very thought of the car going to some dump pained Anthony. “I–well, if you don’t want it anymore. I could buy it from you.”
The man scoffed in surprise. “You want that old thing?”
He did. He couldn’t explain it but he really really did. “Sure. How much?”
The man waved his hand in invitation. “Take it for free, it’s an eyesore. Keys are inside, not that you’ll be able to start it, it hasn’t worked in twenty years.”
Anthony couldn’t believe his luck. “You’re very kind.”
The man didn’t stick around to see how Anthony fared, he went back into his shop, leaving Anthony to the Bentley. When he slid into the driver’s seat, something in him seemed to click into place, it was a similar feeling that Asa gave him. The car felt like it molded to him, coming to life as if his touch had woken it. There was nothing he could call it but a miracle when he turned the key and the engine rumbled in response.
Yes, Anthony thought, yes, this is right.
He waited outside the bookshop for Asa to come out and when the bookseller caught sight of the Bentley his eyes went wide. “Oh, Anthony,” he said.
Anthony’s smile slipped. “Do you… do you not like it?”
“Oh, no, no,” Asa looked like he was about to cry. “I love it. Wherever did you get it?”
“This kind man gave it to me,” Anthony replied, beaming again.
Asa approached the car like one approaches an animal, with caution and kindness. His fingers brushed against the black paint and Anthony could have sworn that his fingertips left yellow imprints behind before they faded. Of course, he had to have imagined that.
“Shall we go for a drive?” Anthony invited.
Asa nodded. His lips tipped into a smile that made the apples of his cheeks reach up towards his eyes. “Oh yes, please!”
Driving with Asa in his passenger seat was the most natural thing in the world.
“You know, it’s funny,” Asa said, looking over at him.
“What is?”
“It… well, it feels as if we’ve done this before.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but it’s silly,” Asa said. “Isn’t it?”
“Is it?” Anthony asked, taking a turn at a rather sharp angle, causing the tire to bump over the curb. Asa gave a little yelp of surprise and quickly reached out to grab at Anthony’s arm.
“Oh, you could slow down, couldn’t you?”
Anthony grinned at him, something coming over him. “Where’s the fun in that, huh, angel?”
Asa’s breath caught. “What did you say?”
Anthony leaned into another harsh turn. “I said, where’s the fun in that?”
“Yes, yes, but you called me– Crowley, look out!”
Anthony swerved to avoid a pedestrian, streaking past at a speed that was definitely above the limit. He let out a laugh, feeling a bit manic. “Ahaha!”
“You know I don’t like it when you do that,” Asa said, huffing in discontent as he gripped the side of the car.
“You never like it when I do anything,” Anthony replied.
“That’s not true. I— oh.”
It clicked for Anthony at the same moment, and then the car was coming to a screeching halt, sending cars behind them into a honking frenzy. They stared at each other for a long moment, the sounds around them fading to nothing but a dull buzz.
“Aziraphale?” Crowley breathed out, hardly believing it, hardly sure if he should.
“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked in return.
Crowley blinked, half expecting the angel in front of him to disappear, but no, he was real. “I’d… well, I’d been having these dreams and I thought—”
“Me too—”
“I didn’t want to hope… I mean, it couldn’t be true, but it seemed so real and—”
Crowley was only stunned for a moment before he was kissing Aziraphale back. When the angel pulled away he cupped his face in his hands, Crowley leaned into it, closing his eyes briefly at the touch. “But how? God, I thought She–”
“I don’t know,” Crowley replied, reaching for Aziraphale. “But somehow we’re here.”
“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, tears in his eyes.
“Do you think we’re the only ones who remember?” Crowley asked.
“I think so,” Aziraphale replied. He seemed certain.
“Why is that?”
“Because we’re the only ones who had something worth remembering.” Aziraphale held Crowley’s hands tightly as he looked at him. “We’ve been given a second chance, and… well, I want to be everything with you, Crowley. I want to be us. If you’ll still have me.”
Crowley rolled his eyes, fond, and overwhelmed, and in love. “Come here, you stupid angel.”
The kiss was filled with the promise of a future that they could write together, and when the nightingale sang there had never been a sweeter sound.
A long way away, outside the universe that Aziraphale and Crowley resided in, God smiled to Herself, for She knew that nothing was ever gone forever. There were always cracks, and if you knew where to look you could always find your way back home.