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Somewhere in the middle of London, a demon, Crowley, sits completely isolated from other patrons of a crowded bar. Occasionally, he gets a random man coming up to him, feeding him a pickup line, sometimes getting a little touchy (to which he pulls down his glasses, reveals his snake eyes, and scares them away), or offering to buy him a drink.
Every single time, he shuts them down. He wants absolutely nothing to do with any of the humans who keep rudely interrupting his yearning and sadness and grieving and–.
Crowley lightly scoffs as another human places a hand on his shoulder. Just as he’s about to pull his glasses down, the human delivers his pickup line.
“Hey, Angel,” The man slurs his words at him, smirking a little, “did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”
“Alright, that’s a new one.” Crowley puffs air from his lungs as he taps the seat next to him, accepting defeat. “Have a seat.”
The man eagerly slides onto the stool and waves over the bartender. He orders Crowley another drink and one for himself.
“First of all,” Crowley starts, “I’m not an angel. Not anymore.”
The human takes a sip of his drink, smiling at Crowley like this is some kind of game, “Oh, then, what are you?”
“A demon,” Crowley rolls his eyes, also taking a sip of his drink, “and yes, it did hurt when I fell from Heaven.”
The human squints at him, pursing his lips into a thin line, but staying next to Crowley nonetheless.
Crowley thinks back to when he’d created the universe and placed all the stars in the sky, telling the man about which ones were his favorite, and how his human eyes could see them if he looked hard enough.
He tells him about the angel (who shall not be named) that came to help him wind up the engines, and tells him about the first time he knew what love really was.
“Of course I knew what it was like to be loved,” Crowley takes another swig, “I was created by God, Herself, for Satan’s sake. But this angel’s love was so different.”
The angel flips around the blueprint of the universe a few times, unsure of which way is the right way up.
Another angel flies by, and he realizes he might need a little help with this engine wind up thing.
“Excuse me!” He calls out, “Oi!”
The angel appears next to him, and goodness, he’s beautiful. “Yes? Was that you?”
The two angels work together to start up the universe, a little twist here, and a ‘let there be light!’ there.
“Um,” The pretty angel giggles, “I’m Aziraphale!”
“I should’ve told him my name, that was rude of me.” Crowley twists the glass around between his palms, “I was just really caught up in the stars, they were gorgeous!” He sighs, lifting his eyebrows a little, “But, man, he was…” Crowley whistles softly.
“I’d hate to see you getting into any trouble.” Aziraphale warns him.
“And that was kind of him, really.” He shakes his head, “But could you really blame me? Would you want the entire universe to stop after a few thousand years?” Crowley scoffs and mutters to himself, “You probably would. Humans are so selfish, ‘never know what’s good for them until it’s gone.”
He sighs softly To himself. Crowley was starting to really miss Aziraphale, and when he started doing that, he knew it was time to stop drinking and head back to his alley where he’d been sleeping for over a year.
But, he didn’t really want to stop thinking about his angel, so he ordered another drink for himself and the man he was kind of hoping was still next to him.
“After that, I became what they called a ‘Rebel Angel’,” Crowley started again, lifting his fingers in a quoting motion. He shook his head slowly, a small smile playing on his face, “I told him I was going to kill him.”
“If you shout out or do anything to attract attention,” Crowley's grip on General Aziraphale's back tightened, “you will be a dead angel. Do you understand?”
“God, I was stupid. Imagine where I’d be right now if I'd sunk that sword straight into his chest.” Crowley filled his mouth with the bitter liquid again, swirling it around his tongue before swallowing. “I'd be dead. And, not because I wouldn't have gotten the bandage from him,” he grips the rope around his neck he'd been using as a scarf ever since his leg healed, “I probably would have drank holy water after realizing I’d murdered my soulmate.”
“Should I say thank you?” Crowley questioned, the warmth of the angel’s hand still heavy on his thigh.
“He told me I shouldn’t thank him,” the demon shakes his head with a small chuckle.
General Aziraphale gives him a soft smile, “Better not.”
“I did, anyway.”
The bartender delivers another drink to him then, Crowley giving him a small nod in return.
“And then there was Eden,” he lifts the glass to his lips, taking a small sip before placing it back onto the table. “He was making sure Adam and Eve made it out of the garden safely after I– he would say it was rude of me, I told them to eat the apple, just doing my job, ya’know, so I slithered up the wall and I was trying to think of something silly to say,” Crowley taps at his head, “And I said…”
“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.”
“And he smiled at me,” Crowley smiles, letting a small sigh escape his lips. “Oh, what I would do to see that smile again.”
Aziraphale’s face switched from a pretty smile to a look of confusion. “Sorry, what was that?”
“I’m sure he was pissed. All that work in the garden, just for me to slither in and ruin it.” He snorts, “I’m surprised he didn’t smite me right then and there.”
Crowley thinks back to all the times he’d received a pretty smile from his angel; even if they were fighting for years on end, he would still smile at him every time he saw him. He wishes he would’ve smiled back, but instead he would try to hide from the angel, giving him a little smirk instead.
“I’d wondered if I had accidentally done the good thing, and maybe he’d done the bad one.” Crowley leans back in his chair, pressing his back into the slats. “I thought it might’ve been a little funny. He–” The demon wipes his face with the front of his hand, “he did not think so.”
Aziraphale smiles, then scoffs, “No! It wouldn’t be funny at all!”
“And then, the flood.” Crowley shakes his head, remembering when God had flooded an entire localization. “She drowned them all, just because She wanted to make a rainbow.”
“Not the kids! You can’t kill kids.” If he’d eaten anything in the last century, he’d probably be sick right now. “That’s more the kind of thing you’d expect my lot to do.”
“Yes,” Aziraphale’s mouth tightened into a straight line, obviously growing tired of Crawley questioning the ineffable plan, “but when it’s done, the Almighty’s going to put up a new thing called a ‘rainbow’, as a promise to not drown everyone again.”
“How kind,” Crowley mocks his own words, as his face scrunches in disgust.
He smiles, “And then there was The Land of Uz.”
“I’m not taking you to hell, Angel.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I don’t think you’d like it.”
“Golgotha; Jesus’ crucifixion.”
“What was it he said that’s got everybody so upset?”
“Be kind to each other.”
Crowley smirks, “Rome.”
“Oh, well! Let me tempt you to…”
“Those were some good oysters,” he remembers and snorts out, “I loved watching him eat those.”
Crowley frowns, thinking about the Kingdom of Wessex. “I just– I thought it might be easier if we worked together.”
“But that would be lying!”
“He didn’t like that,” Crowley sighs.
The man beside him finally clears his throat, “He sounds like an asshole.”
“He isn't!” Crowley shoots a glare in his direction quickly, scrunching his face in disgust once again. “Well, he is… but–” Crowley groans. “He wasn’t then!”
“He really liked Shakespeare,” the demon grins, “or maybe he just really liked to make people feel wanted, I don’t know. I wasn’t very fond, but what do I know?”
“And what does your friend think?” The performer, Burbage, asked from the center of the stage.
Aziraphale gasped, “Oh! He’s not my friend! We’ve never met before! We don’t know each other!”
Crowley smirked as he played through all the moments they’d had together before this one. They’d lit up the stars together, for Satan’s sake. “I think you should get on with the play.”
“Eventually, I did get through to him, but he still worried for me.” He leans forward in his seat again, resting his elbows on the counter of the bar.
“If Hell finds out, they won't just be angry– they’ll destroy you!”
He smirks again, picking up his glass. “We did a coinflip, he chose heads, and off I went to Edinburgh. The next time we saw each other was in Paris, during the French Revolution.”
Crowley snapped his fingers, freezing the French man in place.
“Animals,” Aziraphale muttered.
“Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, Angel.” Crowley tried to keep a straight face, but he hadn’t seen his angel in ages, and he quite missed him. “Only humans do that.”
“Crowley…” He heard the angel whisper, before even turning around to see him. And when he did, he took a glance from his head to his toes, and back up again. “Oh, good lord.”
“He looked really pretty,” Crowley mutters. “I should’ve confessed then, but…”
“What about if I buy you lunch?” Aziraphale smiled.
“Looking like that?”
“...I insulted him instead.” He sighs, dropping his head into his hands. “And then it was Edinburgh, and I don’t really remember much from that one; just saving a girl from drinking poison after her friend died… I think I might’ve drank it, instead,” he says in a questioning tone.
Aziraphale wrapped his arm around Crowley’s waist, holding him upright while he stumbled around the graveyard, “That was very kind of you, Crowley.”
Crowley growled at the angel, pulling himself from his grip and pointing a finger in his face. “Not kind!”
“That was the first time he had shown me any physical affection, I don’t think I could ever forget that.” Crowley says softly, “Too bad Hell had caught on pretty quickly, that was definitely a time.”
Crowley lifts his glass to his lips, tilting it back as far as he could, no liquid falling onto his tongue. He waved over the bartender and ordered another drink for himself and the human.
“The next time I saw him was in St. James Park.”
“Walls have ears. Well, not walls.” The demon pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Aziraphale before he could talk himself out of it. “Trees have ears. Ducks have ears. Do ducks have ears? Must do. That’s how they hear other ducks.”
“Out of the question.” The angel says quickly, looking up at Crowley like he’d just threatened his most favorite thing.
“And, I guess I did do that…” The bartender arrives with the two drinks. “...threaten his favorite thing.”
“I have a lot of other people to fraternize with, Angel.” Crowley spits the words at him, clearly offended at Aziraphale’s use of the word.
Azirphale scrunched his face in disgust, “Of course you do.”
“I don’t need you!” Crowley yelled as Aziraphale stomped away.
The angel twists his body back towards him, “Well, the feeling is mutual, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Crowley mocks himself, shaking his head again as he mutters, “I do need him.”
He takes a long sip of the alcohol in front of him, nearly spitting it out as he remembers the next time he saw him. “The church bombing!” Crowley places a hand over his heart, feeling it melt right out from under him.
“Oh, I forgot all the books!” Aziraphale clicks his tongue, clearly disappointed in himself.
Crowley smirks at him and grabs the carrier bag from the dead Nazi’s hand.
“Little demonic miracle of my own,” The angel locks eyes with him, and he places the bag into his hand. “Lift home?”
Crowley lets his eyes drift shut as he leans against the chair’s slats again, “I could feel his eyes on my back as I walked away from him. The best feeling I’d had in a long time.”
His eyes shoot open then, the words, “You go too fast for me, Crowley,” play in his head.
“He’d heard a few things around Soho.”
“But, I can’t have you risking your life. Not even for something dangerous.” Aziraphale held out a thermos, “Don’t go unscrewing the cap.”
“I wanted to give him a ride somewhere… anywhere would have been fine with me…” Crowley twists the glass around in his palms again, “but, I drive too fast for him.”
“The final years are kind of a blur,” he leans his elbows back on the bar counter, “delivering the Antichrist, preventing Armageddon…”
“Wrong boy.”
“…failing miserably… and somehow still living through it.” He should really send Adam a ‘thanks for not being a little shit’ card or something. “A few years after that…”
“You can’t leave this bookshop.” He could feel his eyes filling with tears every agonizing second that Aziraphale debated leaving Earth.
The angel searches Crowley’s face, and the demon can only hope Aziraphale sees just how easy it would be for them to go off together and forget all this. “Oh, Crowley…”
“‘Nothing lasts forever,’ he’d said to me.” Crowley says slowly and quietly, hoping that maybe saying it out loud will give him the closure he’d been waiting for for the last 2 years without Aziraphale by his side.
“You idiot…” Crowley’s sunglasses started to fog as tears fell behind them, “We could’ve been… us.”
“I kissed him.” The demon says quickly, before downing the rest of his beverage. “I shouldn’t have… it was my last attempt at keeping him here with me, though.”
“I–...” Aziraphale started. Crowley sucked a breath into his lungs, three words playing over and over in his mind.
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.
“... I forgive you.”
“So… yes,” He places his glass down onto the counter, “it did hurt when I fell from Heaven. But, it hurt a lot more when I watched the love of my life walk into an elevator, leaving me and Earth behind forever.”
Crowley twists his chair to the left, but frowns when he sees the seat is unoccupied.
He drops his head into his hands, and just as he’s about to order another drink, the door behind him swings open.
“Crowley!” A familiar voice calls out to him, “There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
The demon whips his head around, locking eyes with the pretty, heavenly aura that had left him two years ago. “Well, speak of the angel.”