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“I’ll let you choose.”
God was letting them decide on the fate of the universe. Or was She? It wasn’t at all clear that God could be trusted. Perhaps this was all part of the ineffable game of Her own devising, letting them believe they could change the ending. So much had happened that Aziraphale wasn’t certain of anything any more.
No, that wasn’t true. One thing and one thing alone remained certain.
“Can we talk?”
Crowley was standing so close to him, including him, protecting him, lending him strength when he must have felt just as lost, just as scared. Through all of his own confusion and fear, Aziraphale’s heart ached with longing for the two of them to be granted a moment alone. Five minutes. Or perhaps ten? Time didn’t even exist any more and still Aziraphale was greedy for more of it, knowing as he did how close they were to the end of all things.
“I’ll give you privacy.”
God raised Her hand and with the merest flick of a finger they were transported, not to Eden as Aziraphale first assumed as he took in the lush vegetation and felt the warmth of a non-existent sun on his face, but an Eden that had fused with the bookshop. An oasis, just for them.
Aziraphale took in a great lungful of fresh air, the relief of feeling safe, of having Crowley beside him, momentarily blocking out the great decision that lay before them. His first instinct was to ignore what needed to be done and focus on the books instead, taste an apple perhaps (although the transgressive risk of this could not be shaken). He did not want to force himself to be brave. And so, as he had done so many times before, he asked Crowley to do it for him.
“So? What do you want?”
“Me? Why me?”
Crowley’s eyes were unshielded, all his grief and exhaustion and anger burning in them like a flame. He had so many questions and none of them had been answered. And still his gaze softened when their eyes met making it so very easy for Aziraphale to admit what he had never been able to admit before.
“Because I only want one thing and that’s not what this is about any more.”
He wanted to be calm about this but the wanting itself was not calm. It was fierce and hungry, an insatiable thing, as truly it always had been. And what he wanted was right there, drawing Aziraphale closer.
When Crowley stepped forward, narrowing the gap between them still further, Aziraphale could not help but be transported back to the moment Crowley had held his heart out in his hand, asking to be chosen. Aziraphale would make the right choice this time. He would choose Crowley again and again, through a thousand lifetimes, and never, ever turn him away.
But Crowley did not ask Aziraphale to choose him.
He asked him to choose everything else. To save the world entire. To give people a real chance.
“Even if there are no angels. No demons. No us ever again.”
It was seeing the cost written in pain across Crowley’s face that made Aziraphale turn away. His chest felt as if it were being crushed, every fibre of his being screaming NO!
Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me choose any version of existence without you in it. Let everything else burn. Let God go on making puppets of celestials and men. Just let me have you.
“Did I say the wrong thing?”
And there, in that question, Aziraphale could hear the crack in Crowley’s resolve. If he were to speak against the remaking of the world without them, if he were to plead for another chance, Crowley would give it to him. Just as he had given in a thousand times before, because he loved Aziraphale enough to give him what he wanted even when it broke him into pieces.
When Aziraphale turned back around, despite the tears unshed, he was smiling. This was what they would do then. This really was the end.
“I believe we’ve come to a decision.”
After millennia of denial and dread of the consequences and forcing Crowley to take the lead, it really wasn’t difficult at all for Aziraphale to take Crowley’s face in his hands. To let their lips meet. To kiss him, softly, gently. Then to deepen that kiss. To let all the unspoken words pour out of him and into that kiss. To hold Crowley like he was precious beyond all imagining. To let him know at last that yes, there was love between them and yes, it was real and true and the best part by far of Aziraphale’s whole existence. To love him, wholly and unreservedly, and to let himself be loved just as completely in return.
They could have stayed there forever, in that kiss, putting off the moment they had to face God once more. Heaven knew Aziraphale wanted to, pulling Crowley closer, holding on tighter, as if he could fuse them both together.
But no, Crowley had made his choice and, for once, Aziraphale was going to honour that choice.
When they broke apart, both of them had tears running freely down their faces. Crowley laughed though it sounded like it hurt. And Aziraphale blushed. Ridiculous but he did. He had imagined a second kiss so many times but imagining was no comparison to the real thing. There was so much more he’d like to know about kissing. He would have very much liked the chance to practice, to discover, to touch and be touched. The awful knowledge that he’d had that chance and squandered it rose up, threatening to choke him, but died back as Crowley took his hand. He was still smiling, wet eyed and terribly brave.
Oh, how fantastically, miraculously, wonderfully brave his Crowley was. Right from the very beginning and right up until the very end.
“Right then,” said Aziraphale.
And Crowley nodded.
When the end came, they would face it together. Hand in hand. Hearts entwined. Love unbounded.