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If Crowley had a coin for every time he and Aziraphale managed to escape destruction at the hands of Heaven or Hell he would have two coins. Given the choice, he would miracle those two coins into the deepest part of the universe and melt them in the eternal flame and escape to Alpha Centauri with his angel to a place where Heaven and Hell wouldn’t be able to get to them ever again. He was already halfway there essentially, standing a couple feet away from the flame in an attempt to stop Michael’s foolish plan and save the world all over again. All that was left was to ensure Alpha Centauri doesn’t get erased with the rest of the universe.
Then again he was pretty sure Gabriel and Beelzebub took over his favourite star system and he really wasn’t keen on seeing the pair again, especially since one of the two aforementioned coins was their doing, so maybe scratch that plan. He can always come up with another one.
He cringes as he watches Micheal throw the Book of Life right into the eternal flame, giving him only a couple seconds to think of something that will save him and Aziraphale from certain destruction as the archangel behind him evaporates into dust. The ticking of time slows down as Crowley’s head follows the trajectory of the book into the flames and he notices a familiar page. As soon as he locks eyes on the Whickber street page he knows what he has to do. The ex-demon reaches into the fire, wincing when it licks at the tips of his fingers, and pulls out the slightly singed page, putting out the rest of the flames that are charring the corners.
He reaches his hand out for Aziraphale. “Take my hand, quickly!’ As soon as the angel grabs his hand he is pulling at the broken remnants of a miracle and teleports them straight to Aziraphale’s bookshop with a landing less graceful than he wanted it to be, but he didn’t really have a choice, it was either their rough landing in the bookshop or immediate erasure from the world. He’s just thankful he thought of something in time, at least to save his angel and the things he loved.
Aziraphale walks to the door and takes a peek outside, and Crowley is almost hurt at what he takes to be a rejection, until he notices the angel flip the shop sign to ‘open’.
“Really? Open?”
“Well someone might want to buy a book.”
“I think you, me, and the bookshop are the only creations left in existence. Nobody left to buy books.” As soon as he says this he sees Aziraphale’s posture change, much like a puppy that just got told off by its owner. “Look angel, it’s… Um- It’s not that bad? I mean, we still have each other. And the bookshop. And- oh my Bentley… You know what, that doesn’t matter anymore we are here and we still exist and maybe everything will be alright and-”
He looks up to see Aziraphale looking at him with a similar gusto to the last time they were in the bookshop together, although a part of him was desperately hoping for a different outcome this time. When he physically can’t take the staring anymore he looks back down at the floor, wishing that he had somehow been created without a tongue or that he stayed as the snake in the Garden of Eden.
But he didn’t really mean those things, at least not in the capacity that would have stopped the intertwining of his and Aziraphale’s lives. He doesn’t think he would be able to handle another thing that tears apart their fragile existence together.
Aziraphale walks up to the former demon whilst he is lost in thought, his footprints fading away when he steps onto the carpet.
Crowley’s head is gently guided back up until the angel looks him right in the eyes and gives him that solemn smile that seems to be all he can muster since he left for heaven. “Oh Crowley dear-” but he can’t seem to get it out. The two of them are so close, and Crowley can practically feel the heat and desperation pooling off Aziraphale in waves. Had Crowley actually needed to breathe, he would have been on the floor by now with how deeply he was holding his breath, afraid to break the moment and make the angel realize that he doesn’t want to deal with Crowley anymore.
A couple deep breaths and agonising seconds of being stared down later Crowley feels like his legs are melting right into the carpet covering the wood floor of the bookshop. He doesn’t know whether it is a miracle that is keeping him upright or if he should be thanking Aziraphale for the lack of floor under a majority of his body, but he does know that he can’t take this staring much longer.
He wants to reach out or do something, he really does. It’s like the very fabric of his existence, whatever is left of it anyway, is screaming at him to get the angel to respond, to get back to the way they were before all of this mess, but he can’t. He won’t do that to Aziraphale again, he won’t take away his choice in the matter. So he waits. Waits for what feels like an eternity and no time at all until Aziraphale speaks again.
“My dear I am so sorry.” Next thing he knows, hot tears roll down his cheeks and Aziraphale is wiping them away gently with his thumb. “I really messed this all up didn’t I? I just wanted to make a difference and look how far that got us.” And all Crowley can give him is a watery smile, because he knows if he talks now he won’t be able to stop. He could spend centuries telling his angel that he would never be mad at him, no matter how hard he wants to. The words “I forgive you” are sharp on his tongue, but he can’t get them out, not without remembering all the heartache that came after Aziraphale had uttered those words and feeling a sharp pang of nausea at the thought. So he stands there with his stupid little smile, willing every particle in his being to somehow vibrate at the right frequency to pass his forgiveness on to the angel without having to say it, without having to once again live through the moment that broke him.
The bell on the shop’s door rings and their moment is broken as the two supernatural beings look around the corner to find a figure standing there looking at a book.
“If you’re here for a book they’re all blank I’m afraid, even the Dickens…”
But Crowley isn’t focused on the fact that the stranger is looking at the books or the impossibility of someone other than them existing at this moment. Instead, he sits in Aziraphale’s favorite desk chair as the stranger’s appearance rings alarm bells in his head. “I know you…”
The unknown customer turns to look at the disheveled angel and teary-eyed demon and scoffs. “Of course you do.”
And then it hits Crowley like a truck. Like all of the trucks on earth actually. Well, all the trucks that existed before the earth got written out of existence by Michael. He knows exactly who this is and he dreads every moment of it, having hoped that at least in the destruction of the universe and all creation that he and Aziraphale would be safe from the powers that be. Though it seems the two have rotten luck when it comes to avoiding Heaven and Hell.
“You are familiar, yes…” Aziraphale, the precious angel, always needed help with solving the mystery, no matter how much he tried to play detective. Although Crowley was sure that the angel was just putting on a show of needing assistance, either because he enjoyed the demon’s help, or he thought that Crowley got enjoyment from saving him at the last moment. Either way, the stranger gives in to the suspense and gives the angel a hint.
“Last time you saw me I was thousands of feet in the air. Red, horns and sharp teeth. Arguing with my son.” It is at this moment that Aziraphale catches on.
“Satan!?”
“Well “Satan” is just a job title really. Means “the Adversary”. Don’t really have a job anymore do I? But yes, I was the Satan for a very long time”
Crowley is close to feeling an anger he has yet to experience. The closest he has ever been to this feeling before was finding Gabriel, “Jim”, in the bookshop several years earlier. “How are you still here?”
“Oh is that any way to talk to an old friend, Crowley?”
And then the fury catches up to Crowley, the dam bursts and he is sure that he is fundamentally changed, never to be the same person again. “We were never friends, Lucifer. And I want answers. Now.”
The Adversary scoffs again “I don’t answer questions, and God doesn’t either. You should know this by now really, with how many times you’ve experienced it personally.” And suddenly Crowley is a young angel again. Creating star systems and wondering why the Almighty would let a whole universe be made if it was just going to get destroyed in 6000 years. His questions are what got him thrown out of Heaven and into this position and let him be damned again if they weren’t going to get him out of this position too.
“Angel, do you have a pen?” Aziraphale stirs and it takes him a second to register what was asked of him, but he soon kicks into gear and grabs his ornate pen box off the desk and holds it out for Crowley.
“What pen do you need?” Keeping his eyes on Satan, Crowley blindly reaches for the pen box and grabs the first one he feels.
“Pass me a book will you?”
“Which one?”
Crowley spares a glance in Aziraphale’s direction in momentary confusion, “Any will do, they’re all blank so any one you give me will be the right one.” The angel gently puts a book in his outstretched hand and Crowley hurriedly starts writing.
Aziraphale, having peeked over his shoulder at what he was doing exclaimed, “You can’t do that!”
“Yes we can.”
“But that’s not the book of life.”
“It is if we say it is. Wanna write it?” Aziraphale’s feigned contemplation does not last longer than a fraction of a second as he grabs the book and pen and moves to sit at his desk. As soon as his pen hits that paper Crowley feels a weight lift off his shoulders, not completely, but enough to gift him some temporary relief from the suffocating pressure he has been struggling under since they miracled into the bookshop.
Crowley perches himself at Aziraphale’s back, continuing to keep a watchful eye on the Adversary. The urge to protect his angel from possible harm ran through his veins and stained his ichor to the point where his relocation to the angel’s side was a subconscious movement, devoid of any actual thought on his part.
Aziraphale, in all of his charm, starts reading out loud what he is writing, the sound of his voice filling the space of the room they are standing in. “There were four of them in the bookshop, which was the whole world at the moment. An angel, a former demon, the Devil himself, and one other, one who was there because They were omnipresent. They had always been there. They would always be there-” The angel gets torn from his train of thought by a light tap on his shoulder and he notices the bright light that shines through the previously dark bookshop when he lifts his head from being bent over the book. And when he turns around he sees God, sitting on a chair in the middle of the room emanating a holy light that was nearing on blinding when he actually looked at the figure.
“It is as you say, Aziraphale, you need not summon me.” The voice and the body were not connected. The mouth of the corporation moved in time with the words that were being said, but the voice did not come from the body or image of God sitting before them. When the voice was heard, it was heard all throughout the air, omnipresent just like God was, ringing through to the very core of their beings. “I was already here”
“Yes. But that doesn’t mean you’ll talk to us.. Lord.”
God pointedly ignores the angel and looks towards the ex demon, “So, Crowley, been a while since we were last at this. What’s the question that you want to ask me so desperately?”
Crowley’s stomach does a flip and his perception of time freezes again as he sees himself as an angel, kneeling before the Almighty, asking questions and subsequently getting outcast before joining the rebellion led by Lucifer and getting thrown out of the gates of Heaven for good. And when time resumes Crowley is overcome with grief and anger; grief for the angel he used to be; anger at the system that let him down. And then he looks God right in the eyes and spits out, “I thought you didn’t answer questions, you didn’t when I came to you the first time. No, I remember you threw me out, left me to roam Heaven and subsequently find the rebellion,” he feels Aziraphale stir at his side but he refuses to stand down on this. He gave up once, he won’t allow it to happen again.
“It’s the end times, Crowley. I’ll allow you one question because you won’t get the chance again, not when I make the new universe. So you better make it a good one.” The carelessness with which the Almighty speaks appalls him. Whilst he stands before God, reliving the worst memories he was able to remember from his time as an angel, She has the audacity to pretend as if it wasn’t Her doing that fully unraveled him. And for Someone’s sake if he wasn’t going to finally let out his anger towards the failings of the Deity.
“It is.” Crowley is sure of it, has been sure of it since the beginning of the universe. But God’s expression plants seeds of doubt into his mind. He is scared. Not of the Almighty. Not of the Adversary either. He is scared of becoming that naive angel again, cast aside for the entertainment of a selfish God. “Well it’s the only one I’ve got...”
“As long as it’s not the Problem of Evil, I’m tired of being blamed for that one.” Satan was getting on Crowley’s nerves. The guy wouldn’t shut up and he really needed the unwanted quips to stop fully. He doesn’t have the time at this current moment to question why the man is here, at the end of the universe, anyway.
“It’s not. Not really. Not that it matters anyway, I don’t care what you do, just shut up already.” And God smirks at him, as if knowing this battle is won already. Crowley looks back at his angel, searching his eyes for any semblance of a clue, any clear sign telling him where to go or what to do.
“Go on. Ask.” And those words from Aziraphale were all he needed to gain the confidence to stand before the Almighty once again, not kneel, he would never kneel to anyone again, especially to God, and ask the question that he has wanted the answers to since the dawn of time, since the creation of everything he has ever known and will know.
“Why make people and then punish them for behaving like people? Humans are gonna human no matter what we do. There’s nothing we can ever do about that.”
It seems that scoffing is the only thing that Satan is capable of currently as he scoffs at the pair once again, “It is the Problem of Evil. I told you, so predictable. I know you Crowley, you haven’t changed one bit since before the Fall.”
“No, no, it’s not the Problem of Evil! It’s the problem of everything! But let’s talk about people.” Crowley now feels like a madman on a rampage as he turns back to face God, fuelled by his hatred for Satan and the Almighty in this moment. His heartbeat thuds in his ears in a way he never experienced before. His breathing was speeding up, despite not needing oxygen. He felt like a human, looking up at something they would never have the ability to comprehend, something much bigger than themselves, yet still having the courage to oppose that which they will never understand. “They are born into a world that is against them in a thousand different ways, and then devote most of their energy to making it worse. The human mind is capable of such kindness and innovation, yet it also has the capacity for an evil even Hell couldn’t think of. But a person’s capacity for good or evil isn’t the end all be all. A good person can commit heart-stopping evil and a villain by all means can commit good deeds. Why make them that way?”
He is panting at this point, flashing between his body now and his body then, feeling the disappointed glare of the Almighty beating down his back. And then Aziraphale cautiously chimes in from his corner of the bookshop that he had been standing in this whole time. “That’s free will”
Crowley spins to face the angel. “Free will? Nah! That’s just a card trick, isn’t it? The suckers think they’re playing for real, but the dealer knows. Nobody finds the lady unless She wants them to. No one acts without Her go-ahead. Agh… They don’t even know that their entire lives are planned out for them, they think they get a choice but they don’t.” It finally sinks in, what he has been avoiding thinking about his entire existence. What if God was playing with them the same way She did with the humans?
And God, in the same way She always has done and will always continue to do, turns away from Crowley and addresses the angel. “What about you, Aziraphale? Do you have a burning question?”
Crowley’s gaze burns into Aziraphale from the pillar he chose to lean against, the angel can feel the anger evidently spiraling within his companion, but he can’t pay it any mind. He knows that he has to do this for himself, for Crowley.
“Just wish it’d been easier. I just wanted to do the right thing.” At this, Satan stirs and moves to look at the angel.
“You what? You just wanted to be left alone to read. You wanted to consume all the tasty human food and the lovely human music.” Crowley is now thinking that he isn’t opposed to biting the man’s head off. One last act of evil really can’t be that bad of a thing at the end of time eternal and he truly is getting fed up with Satan’s remarks. Instead he takes to imagining popping his head like a grape with his fingers, inside his head of course, he can’t have Satan knowing about his diabolical plan in case he actually decides to act on it
“You say all that as if it negates me wanting to do the right thing.”
It is at this point that God joins back in the conversation, Her voice triumphing over the others. “Aziraphale, you were the first angel to lie to me. You were lazy. Gluttonous. Prideful. I’m honestly shocked you didn’t join the rebellion. Had I not been interested in your progression as an angel, I would have forced you into Hell myself.”
Crowley feels the hairs on the back of his nape bristle at the way God is speaking to his angel. All of the feelings and resentment mix in him, but he refrains from unleashing it. Not to protect the divinity in the room with him, no. What he wouldn’t give to unleash the millenia of fury that has been piling up within his existence on the people who controlled his whole life, those who deserve to see the rage of a two time traitor. But he doesn’t, for a completely selfish reason, sure, but also for the benefit of Aziraphale. He feels guilty that he won’t lash out against the Almighty or Satan, but he needs Aziraphale to realize that he couldn’t have changed anything in the end, not really. Not when the system had been against them since the beginning of time. Not when the person who controlled everything wouldn’t have allowed it to be. So he stays quiet.
“Quite true. But I was also the second best angel you ever had.”
Everyone stills at the statement, even Crowley, not having expected much pushback from the angel. God sits up taller in the chair and Her voice comes through with an air of incredulousness, louder and clearer in the room than it had before “You were what?”
Aziraphale steels himself, clearly ready to stand by whatever plan he has and Crowley doesn’t know how to feel about it, because he was getting tired of being pulled into the angel’s plans to make the world a better place when all he wanted was a quiet existence with the person he loved most. But it was his angel, so he let himself be quietly roped into the plan, just as he had many times before over the millenia.
“Who do you think the best angel was?”
It is at this moment that the angel locks eyes with Crowley once again and starts moving towards him. Crowley knows what is about to happen and he doesn’t know if he can handle what he knows the angel is about to infer.
“No, Aziraphale…”
“This one.”
“I was a terrible angel. Didn’t follow orders, did things my own way, asked too many questions. There’s a reason I was kicked out and joined the rebellion, and it wasn’t God’s doing,” he locks eyes with God on that last point, giving her the most smile he can manage right now, which isn’t saying much and ends up being more of an angry grimace aimed at Her, but he’s convinced himself he’s trying and that has to count for something.
“No, no. You were the best of us. You cared so much about everything. You were an artist. You wanted to understand, to make better art. The star systems and galaxies that existed in the vastness of the universe was all your doing. The rest of us, we were just characters in Her book. We didn’t ask questions, not like you did. You were the only one of us who genuinely believed there had to be a sensible purpose to it all. The only one willing to put your livelihood on the line to find out”
“Er- I’m not a character in anybody’s book.”
Aziraphale’s head snaps in the direction of Satan’s voice with the speed and fury of an angel in wartime and gives him the fiercest glare he could, one Crowley thought the angel was not capable of. And Crowley laughs at the irony of it all.
“No! Look at you, you are the definition of a character in God’s book. You were made specifically to rebel and create the opposition to Heaven. If that isn’t the perfect example of a manufactured being then I don’t know what is.”
“If I’m just a character in Her story, then what am I still doing here?”
The rest of the figures in the room look around at each other in a stupor, until Aziraphale looks toward God and utters the question, “Are you gonna tell him or should I?”
And God chuckles. “I’m interested in what you have to say, Aziraphale, guardian of the Eastern Gate.”
“Because it’s a tidy way to finish. Two of you, the Deity and the Adversary facing off. And even shaking hands. And then it all ends for good. The cosmic game of chess is over… for good. You were a figure created specifically for the conflict, for this very moment in time were you and God would finally face off and the ultimate victory would belong to the Almighty.”
“Ridiculous-”
“You know, Lord, I… I do have a question for you,” Aziraphale pays the bumbling man no mind as he approaches the Almighty.
“Go on then, ask, little angel, before I change my mind .”
Time stalls for a second, as it seems to be doing rather frequently in this moment, but can you blame it when so much life-altering information is being dropped? Aziraphale’s non-existent heart is beating a little too loudly in his chest.
“Why…” He feels the tears welling up. Aziraphale is tempted to look back at Crowley, for support, encouragement, comfort, anything. But he knows it will only make it harder to ask. So he summons the last of his strength and asks: “Why give me Crowley? Why make me complete and then take it away?”
Had it been anyone else, Crowley would have laughed it off. But this was Aziraphale, the only being that had been keeping him sane for the past 6000 years and he doesn’t think he could ever do that to the angel, so he just leans in. “You know you won’t get an answer.”
It is at this moment that God stands up in all Her radiance and answers the question. “Because, you were able to value what most people never even know they have. Your love for him was the messiest, silliest, most predictable thing in the universe. And it always made me smile.”
Crowley immediately feels it. The rage of a literal thousand suns flowing within him, most of which he had a hand in creating, tearing him to bits. Part of him directs that anger at the knowledge that God would answer Aziraphale’s question but not his, much like the young angel in him that wanted to understand everything but got ignored at every turn. Another part of him turns the fury onto God, for meddling with their lives so severely. Crowley starts to doubt the nature of his relationship with Aziraphale. Had it just been God’s plan all along that they would turn out this way?
He stews in those emotions for a good long while, until he realizes. It’s Aziraphale, always has been and always will be Aziraphale. Regardless of the meddling of God, he would always choose Aziraphale. That he even thought to doubt the reality of their love for one another made him sick to his stomach, but he just had to press on. If not for his own sake, then for the angel’s.
When he looks to the angel he sees a reflection of himself. The disappointed look he was giving Her, that familiar hatred of the Almighty and all things Holy setting in faster than he ever thought it would in Aziraphale, the righteous angel that would do anything to make life a better place.
And with a wicked smile God announces, “But that was then, and that universe is over. As I think, are the two of you.”
Crowley senses the rumbling before his brain can register what it entails. When God lifts Her finger up to the ceiling, Crowley can feel the fabric of time ripping apart, barely holding on.
“No no no no no no, stop!” And the rumbling abruptly stops. “You still haven’t answered the first question. What I want to know is- Why did you think it was a good idea, a sensible idea even, to make an infinite universe, run it for 6000 years, and then just destroy it all? The whole thing is lunacy!”
The first visible emotion on God’s face is shock. Pure, unadulterated shock at the idea that someone would have the guts to call anything She created “lunacy”. The next visible emotion is either pride or a smugness only an all-knowing deity would be able to have. The pride would likely be from Crowley’s growth from the young angel that stood before Her, to the being that aligns himself with no sides and takes no shit anymore, especially not from the Almighty. No being ever created would ever be able to fully comprehend the inner workings of God, so it is unknown what the smugness would be for, and it would do everyone better to not speculate on the matter.
“Everything ends. A story doesn’t have to go beyond the last page of its book, Crowley, and that story is over. You don’t get a sequel.”
“Well I don’t accept that. And I do not accept that you are the one that gets to make all these decisions. Why should that be?”
“Very well.” The smile God lets out is carefully manufactured, creepy in a way, and definitely meant to intimidate the pair into making the wrong choice. “I’ll let you choose. This decision. This one decision will be yours. What do you want?” It doesn’t escape Crowley that God has once again foregone answering his questions but he has more pressing matters at hand, and quite frankly he was tired of fighting Her. “Do you want me to put everything back the way it was? Return to the ceaseless hunting between Heaven and Hell, you two being chased down by both sides?”
The words ring through the room and then a choking silence takes over. Satan looks from God to the pair in the corner with a look of disgusted shock on his face. Crowley still feels all the rage he was holding mere seconds ago, but that last question from the Almighty, the chance to get a do-over where he and his angel get to have their happy ending, it's too tempting not to think about. So he asks, “Can we, ya’know, talk about it?”
And God once again smiles. “Very well, I’ll give you some privacy.” Crowley knows, deep down, that there will never be privacy in the eyes of the Almighty, but he decides not to point it out, in case God changes Her mind about being merciful. With a quick flick of Her hand, Crowley and Aziraphale are transported into a carbon copy of the bookshop, except for the fact that a garden has now taken up most of the free space that was left.
Here they are, shrouded in “privacy”, and Crowley is leaning up against a tree that rudely reminds him of the time he was a snake teaching the first two humans about the distinction between right and wrong right after the Fall. Crowley finds it ironic, their journey started in the Garden of Eden and here they are now, once again fulfilling the endless cycle of the Almighty’s wishes.
For the first time in years there is no malice between Aziraphale and Crowley as they finally stand in the same room without some misunderstanding tearing at them. Aziraphale dares to break the careful silence first. “What do you want?”
As soon as the words finally get through to his head, Crowley is filled with confusion. Why would the angel, the only person he can say he ever truly loved and the most selfish being he knows at times, leave the choice up to him? It was unlike the other to give Crowley the power of making the life-altering choice; not when they took “Jim” in, not when they thwarted the second coming, and sure as Hell not when Aziraphale chose Heaven over him. So why start now?
The former demon forgets how to speak for a second, finding his tongue suddenly unresponsive as he realises the gravity of this choice. “Why me?”
The angel, in that devastatingly selfish way says, “Because I only want one thing. And that’s not what this is about anymore, my dear… What do you want, Crowley?” The closing of the distance between them forces Crowley to realise how much he truly missed Aziraphale, his angel. Every cell in his body is screaming to embrace the angel, to kiss and hold him again.
Crowley can’t. He can’t move, can’t feel his fingers, can’t do that to his angel again. It broke his heart last time and he knows he can live with a damaged heart, but he doesn’t think it can withstand another heartbreak. So he stands there with his eyes pointed down and tearing up, waiting, hoping that his angel will close the distance and rewrite the hurtful experience they had the last time they embraced.
But that moment never comes, so he is forced to come to terms with what he has, not able to ask for more. “You know what I want.” But he doesn’t mean it, or more so doesn’t believe it when he says it. Because he knows that Aziraphale remembers all the times he wanted them to run away, but he doesn’t think he can do that anymore, at least not after so many years of begging the angel to forget humanity and become just the two of them and being ignored.
The past 3 years living among the humans, living like the humans of Earth without his miracles or his angel, have changed him. Aziraphale may be finally ready to get their happily ever after, but Crowley doesn’t think they deserve it, no matter how much he wishes for it to be true.
So he makes his decision knowing it will hurt, but hoping that the angel will understand in the end, “I want a real universe.” And suddenly Aziraphale’s eyes are darting around Crowley’s face, searching for some shred of hope to grasp onto, only to find none. “I want the people to have a chance. I want Free Will to be a thing, true Free Will. People deserve the chance to live in the real world… Haven’t we seen that over the millennia we spent on this planet?”
The disappointed look the angel gives him almost breaks him. He is so close to scrapping the plan and saying “run away with me angel, I don’t care what God creates as long as we get to be together!” but he can’t, he knows he can’t. He has spent too long trying to help humanity thrive to let them be endlessly thwarted by the regimes of Heaven or Hell. He wants to give them what he has been trying to give them this whole time, freedom from the Divine.
So as much as he craves to have Aziraphale happy and in his arms again, he sticks to his decision. “Even if there are no angels. No demons. No… Us. Ever again.”
When Aziraphale turns his back to Crowley, his heart sinks to where he thinks his stomach would be. He hadn’t thought it would ever be this hard, to look the person you love in the eyes and tell them that you are turning down the chance to get to spend eternity with them. He knew what Aziraphale wanted, but he was right when he said it wasn’t about that anymore because Crowley deserved the chance to choose for once. And he made his choice, regretful as he may be about the circumstances of it.
“Did I say the wrong thing?” He hears Aziraphale do that thing when you laugh to cover up the urge to cry. He’s on the brink of also bursting out into teary laughter as he desperately hopes that he hasn’t messed everything up for good. Aziraphale turns back around with a wobbly smile and tears collecting in his eyes and walks back up to Crowley, giving him a weak chuckle, the type that happens when you are definitely and irreversibly smitten with someone.
The next words seal the fate of the two, knowing that it must be done and what it will entail. “I believe we’ve come to a decision.” And for the first time in years the two look each other in the eyes and smile, it’s not a bubbly or wide smile, but it’s sincere and understanding in a way that wasn’t truly possible before now.
The greenery of the alternate bookshop slowly fades away as the two feel themselves melt into the reality of the original bookshop where the Adversary and the Deity are engaging in conversation. After their quick laughter, God looks over to see the pair standing next to each other. “Made your decision?”
Aziraphale is the one to speak up, and Crowley is grateful because he doesn’t think that he would have been able to go through with it, despite his resolution on his choice, being too much of a coward to be the one to officially doom them to this fate. “We want you to create another universe.”
The former demon’s head turns to look at the angel, and he knows that he has to be the one to do this. “One without angels. Or demons. No God. No Satan. A universe without a Heaven and without a Hell.”
“No great plan, nothing ineffable. It just starts with a Big Bang and ends, billions of years later, with the heat death of the universe.”
“Or, you know, however it stops. Heat death isn’t a dealbreaker.”
“You’re asking God? To create a Godless universe?” Satan chuckles and God looks perplexed. “Neither of you could exist in such a universe, you understand?”
Satan perks up for the first time in a while and asks God, “Wait. You’re not gonna indulge them in this nonsense, are you?”
“Yes, I think I am. You two fully comprehend the cost don’t you?”
For the first time since the Whickber street shopkeeper meeting, and really for the first time ever, Aziraphale and Crowley reach out to each other and properly hold hands. “We know what we’re asking for.”
“Very well.” God stands up quickly with Satan following close behind. “I’ll make the universe your way. I’ll even let an Earth happen. Eventually, there'll be humans and life, in all of its mundane glory. Something that neither of you will know or experience, though.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“We want humanity to get their chance.”
God is giddy as she says, “Say goodbye then.”
Aziraphale and Crowley turn to each other, looking directly into each other’s eyes. The angel reaches two fingers up to his lips, gingerly kisses them, and moves them over to Crowley’s lips. Crowley kisses the fingers back and melts into Aziraphale’s hand when it lands on his cheek, rubbing away stray tears that have been falling down with a gentle thumb. Crowley thinks God is getting impatient but he wills the moment to last longer, knowing God won’t really be able to resist the last bit of entertainment before being thrust into a Godless universe, and knowing that his one true strength in this world was the power of his imagination. He imagines that they have all the time in the world to properly say their goodbyes.
“I love you, you know that don’t you angel? Those 6000 years we spent together here on Earth… They weren’t a waste of time, not now that we get to guarantee them what we were fighting for all this time. And… I couldn’t have done it without you, Aziraphale.”
“I love you too my dear Crowley. Don’t ever forget it. I’m sorry we didn’t get to do this whole thing better, but… I really did enjoy those years.” And Aziraphale finally gives in to the tension pulling them together. He falls into Crowley’s waiting arms and gives him a wet kiss on his cheek, the closest he could get to a proper kiss without dredging up those unwanted memories, and buries himself into the figure of his companion. As they embrace for the last time, they feel themselves and their surroundings start to fall away the same way they saw everything around them fall away after being erased from the book of life.
And everything is strangely okay. Neither of them feels regret or fear in their last moments, only the everlasting love they had for each other finally being released and it’s the best either of them has felt in a long while.
Some might say that they saw the two beings holding each other with their foreheads pressed together. Some might say that they even saw the two kiss. Others will say they just embraced. Whatever really happened in those last moments, know that the two were as content as they had ever been.
And so, the universe ended, just as it had started, in a garden, and laid the path for a new universe to take its place.
God, true to Her word, created the new universe, letting time run its course and avoiding meddling in human affairs. God was also true to Her word in that Crowley and Aziraphale never did get to see the new universe, although She knew deep down that it was everything the two had wanted and She knew that it had to be treasured.
The memories and identities of Aziraphale and Crowley were erased alongside the old universe, but it was their ideals that had created the new existence, so were they really gone? Or did they live on in the choices each person got to make for themselves? Only God can say.
And She isn’t one for answering questions.