Chapter Text
As almost ending the world goes, Crowley had decided that he’d gotten a pretty good deal out of it, in the end. He’d gotten a nice night with Aziraphale, In his bed! And now, he had all day, every day to do whatever the angel wished. The only downside, he supposed, was that Aziraphale wasn’t a very imaginative angel and the only thing he particularly wanted to do was read.
But it was a nice trade off to be able to just be with him. After the Almost-End-Of-The-World, Crowley and Aziraphale had settled into a routine. Crowley would arrive in the morning, or at least his version of morning which was 12pm, and make tea for Aziraphale, who by then was already sat in his plush armchair with his head in a book he had no doubt only just started and would finish by the evening. Crowley would sit in the armchair that Aziraphale had miracled for him on the day their routine had started, one much less plush and much more his style being made of leather, and spend the rest of the day pretending he would at some point drink his tea and scrolling through Social Media. The only thing that would interrupt the comfortable silence was a quiet chortle from Crowley, followed by a similar one from Aziraphale as Crowley showed him the cat video he had found.
So yes, by his definition, he couldn’t of asked for a nicer life now he was on his own side. But something was missing. Crowley had assumed, now all the eyes from both upstairs and downstairs were gone, it would be exponentially easier to confess how he really felt to Aziraphale. Crowley apparently hadn’t factored in his crippling anxiety into that assumption. So perhaps their quiet lazy days together were a little less than perfect, held back only by the fact that Crowley was currently unable to give Aziraphale a greeting kiss as he arrived.
But what can I do about it? He wondered to himself as they sat together once again, it’s not like I can tell him, he’d hate me. No, he wouldn’t just hate me, he’d banish me from his life completely for even attempting to temp him in such a cruel way. Perhaps it would be better to just tell him, rip it off like a plaster and accept the consequences of his actions instead of being a-
Coward his brain hissed at him. Crowley sighed quietly, earning himself a side glance from Aziraphale as if he was considering asking if everything was alright, but couldn’t bear to tear himself away from his book to do so. Get on with it
Crowley opened his mouth.
“Crowley, my dear, I have something I need to speak to you about.”
The hole where Crowley’s soul would have been decided to do a flip.
“Y-yes angel? What’s that?” he choked out, his voice about an octave higher than it was supposed to be.
Aziraphale gently placed his book down, keeping his thumb trapped between the pages to mark where he was and carefully removing his glasses. He had a faint concerned look on his face and wouldn’t meet Crowley’s gaze. “Angel, is everything alright..?” Crowley asked as he sat up slightly, paying more attention now he realised that something was bothering Aziraphale.
“Oh, oh yes of course, its just…” he trailed off as his brow furrowed in thought. “Gabriel came by the other day, only for a quick visit, he had a message for me.”
Aziraphale had abandoned his book on the coffee table now in favour of wringing his hands together nervously. It was a habit Crowley had first noticed back when they had met at Eden. He’d thought it was endearing at the time, that someone so perfect as a literal angel still felt anxious and had to self-soothe. It made him feel more human, before the concept of what was truly human even existed. Maybe that meant that true humanity was just Aziraphale and his nervous habits.
Crowley’s lip curled at the mere mention of Gabriel. “And what exssssactly could that pompous prick have to tell you now?” His hiss popped out before he could curb it.
“Crowley, behave,” Aziraphale chided before he sighed and settled further into his seat. “I’ve been summoned back to heaven.”
“Oh.”
“Indeed.”
“Well, that’s alright isn’t it? Just go back, ask what they want and then tell them to stick it where the sun don’t shine. Or where they think the sun shines from.” Crowley said with a false air of indifference to hide the fact that his heart was currently thrumming out of his chest.
Aziraphale’s shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly, had Crowley not known what to look for.
“No, my dear, they want me back…permanently.” He looked as if he struggled to say the last word, as if it was a poison on his tongue. Crowley’s entire world jerked violently to the side. “B-but they can’t do that! Wasn’t the trick with the hellfire enough for them?” He yelled, jumping to his feet to accommodate his waving arms. “Wasn’t all the- the burning and the cooor pshh POW enough for them?!”
Aziraphale finally gave a faint smile at Crowley’s sound effects. “I’m afraid I don’t have much say in the matter Crowley, they said if I don’t go back by choice then they’ll make sure I go back one way or another, whether its with my corporation intact or not.”
Wait a minute. Had these angels just threatened violence?
“You mean to tell me they’re going to discorporate you, just to get you to come back to Heaven?”
Aziraphale looked down and nodded quietly. He looked loathe to even admit that his kind would do such a thing, and in all honestly he was. Somehow, after the show they had given during the almost-end-of-the-world, he’d managed to convince himself that they weren’t really so cruel, desperate times demanding desperate measures and all. But the angels hadn’t even bothered to hide their distain when they came down this time, much like the last time he’d seen them. All sneering faces and barely contained hatred for him. He wasn’t even sure angels were allowed to hate other angels, but he supposed they also weren’t exactly allowed to attack them in the street.
Crowley slowly plopped back into his seat, taken aback at what he was hearing. He’d thought Heaven was a cruel unforgiving place, for his own quite valid reasons, but he didn’t think they would really threaten one of their own. Aziraphale however, wasn’t really one of their own anymore, much like he wasn’t one of Hell’s own either. The benefits of being on their own side is that they didn’t have to be a part of either one of those abject messes, and got to live out their own lives in peace. That was the plan anyway.
“They want me back by ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” Aziraphale whispered, and for the first time since the bandstand, he looked like he was going to cry. “I don’t want to go Crowley. I can’t go, I’ll have to leave my bookshop behind, all my books, I haven’t even read them all!”
It was obvious that the books were an excuse, but Crowley could guess what he really wanted to stay. As much as Aziraphale might have pretended to be an indifferent protector, he truly did love humanity. He loved all the quaint little bakeries and cafes, he loved the books, he loved the art, he loved the way they did things that made absolutely no sense to a supernatural being such as himself, and yet still seemed completely justified and most of all, he loved not selling books in his quiet old bookshop that smelt of the most comforting smell he could possibly imagine, old books and ink and occasionally, Crowley.
Somewhere deep down he hoped that Aziraphale would miss him too. It felt cruel, but knowing that the angel’s heart would ache in Crowley’s absence made him feel at least a little bit better. “You don’t have to go angel, I’ll think of something, we’ve done it before haven’t we? I’ll- I’ll go instead! They won’t know the difference, it worked last time-“ Excuses and half-baked plans tumbled from his mouth as he desperately tried to think of some way to fix this, some way to keep his angel where he belonged, right here next to him while he scrolled through Instagram and wished he could hold his hand.
“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale interrupted finally, lowering his head with a faint look of guilt on his soft features, “I wish I could say no to them, I truly do, but they scare me Crowley.”
He curled in on himself, carefully wrapping his arms around his tummy in a awkward hug. “I don’t want them to hurt you…”
Crowley’s world jerked in the other direction even more violently.
“Angel…now why on earth would they hurt me, eh?” He said softly, as he kneeled in front of Aziraphale and gently took his hand. “I’m just some silly old snake, they don’t have a reason to hurt me.”
“Because it would hurt me!” Aziraphale blurted out and looked up at him with a desperate look on his face, desperate for what Crowley wasn’t sure. “it would hurt me Crowley, knowing that I was the reason you got injured or- or discorporated or worse!”
A single tear finally escaped and dripped down Aziraphale’s cheek, prompting him to wipe it away as quickly as it had appeared. He sighed and gently slumped back against his armchair. “I can’t let anything happen to you, it…” he stayed silent for a moment, before slowly looking up and finally meeting Crowley’s gaze. “It would break my heart, you wily old serpent.”
Crowley wasn’t sure he could feel his face anymore, but in the absence of a single other thought in his head, he lurched forward and practically threw himself into Aziraphale’s arms, burying his face In his soft belly. “You silly angel.” he mumbled quietly, trying to hide the tears welling up in his own eyes. “A-And whatever reason would they have to hurt you, hm?” He whispered and kept his face hidden.
Aziraphale looked like he was about to respond for a moment, before he seemingly thought better of it and looked out of the window. “They just want to. Its best not to think about that eh, dear boy? I don’t want to upset you more than I already have.”
They didn’t say much else from there, Crowley afraid to push and Aziraphale unable to respond lest he burst into tears the moment he opened his mouth. With a lack of many other options, they both sat and held each other quietly.