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Crowley paused, looking down into the rich, red wine, as if it had the answers to the question. He squinted harder into the liquid, trying to think through the haze of a drunken stupor as to what the question even was, that his dear angel had asked.
" 'M sorry now, what did you say?" He slurred, allowing himself to sink even further into the soft, worn leather of the couch he had occupied for more than several decades in Aziraphale's bookshop.
"I asked, whether you remembered anything before the fall." Aziraphale said timidly, and definitely not as drunk as Crowley.
Crowley moved his gaze towards the angel and noticed immediately that the other had sobered up. He pondered for a moment if this situation would be better if he stayed drunk, or followed Aziraphale's steps into sober-dum. He decided on the latter, willing the alcohol out of his system, and took a minute to try and get rid of the awful aftereffects of said action.
"I suppose I remember just as much as anyone else does." Crowley told a half-lie, straightening up as much as a man of his form could do. It was enough to make Aziraphale raise an eyebrow at the no longer lounging snake, and more tense teenager with terrible posture.
Crowley had made a habit of not lying to the angel straight on. It made him feel horribly guilty afterwards, and he was a demon and should not be feeling guilty about lying to his ang- fri- adversary....oh who even knew anymore what the angel was to him.
As for a half-lie, Crowley was a demon so he couldn't be fully exempt from shying away from the truth - unless it was horrible truth that would bring upon misery - and this moment was no exception. He was certain that the other fallen remembered just as much as he did, but not more, for he was far older than them, and had done so much more. The memories from before the fall, before the garden, were stained into his brain forever. Being an immortal being, sometimes memories would disappear with a flicker and it would take some time to get them back, but there was no way he could ever forget what his life had been before.
There was nothing he could compare those memories to now.
Aziraphale miracled a mug of cocoa, and as a second thought, made one appear in front of Crowley on the table. A little coaster peaked out from around the bottom of the mug and Crowley regarded it apprehensively.
"Its not poisoned." Aziraphale said mildly, though a tad offended.
" 'Course not." Crowley made a big show of drinking from the mug to appease the angel, and let the hot liquid distract him from how Aziraphale was watching him with curious eyes.
When Crowley said nothing more, Aziraphale huffed a sigh.
"I was hoping you could talk to me about it dear."
"Talk about what?"
Aziraphale gritted his teeth with annoyance and drank some cocoa, aware of how Crowley was looking everywhere but him.
"Talk about what it was like before, who you were-"
"Why does it matter?" Crowley snapped, setting down the mug of cocoa harder than he needed to onto the table. "Why does it matter who I wasss before, or what I did, or any of that." He spat out, shoving his sunglasses more firmly over his eyes as they began to slide down during his tirade. "I am who I am now. Demon Crowley, no more no lessss." The hisses were becoming more and more pronounced the more worked up he became.
Aziraphale had opened his mouth several times to try and interrupt him, but when Crowley fell silent he couldn't think of a single thing to say.
"Crowley..." He hesitated, trying to gather his thoughts, form a plan of how to approach the demon.
Aziraphale knew Crowley like the back of his hand. 6,000 years will give you that benefit. The demons emotions were coming at him from all different directions, irritation, hurt, fear, shame. Aziraphale cursed whomever made the first tinted glasses that hid Crowley's eyes from him; cursed the idiotic self righteous town folks that had almost burned Crowley at the stake.
In a bold and empowered move, and moving faster than even he knew he could, he got up from his chair and grabbed the sunglasses off of Crowley's face and contemplated throwing them across the room now that he had them, but submitted to just setting them down besides Crowley's cup of cocoa because he knew the demon was fond of his Valentinos, or whatever over priced, showy, brand they were.
Crowley's eyes were shocking up close, filled with even more emotion than his body language. It was like looking into the sun, bright yellow and painful. But Aziraphale loved those eyes as much as he loved the demons quick wit, and fiery red hair, and ridiculously thin body.
"My..You took my.." Crowley trailed off, stunned by the sudden turn of events. He should be mad, but instead all he could do was stare down at Aziraphale as blue eyes looked deeply into his own.
"Just tell me Crowley. I know it's painful for you, but it's better to let it out. And it doesn't matter per say who you were then but it would be nice to know dear. Please."
Crowley was a creature of habit. Yelling at his plants even though he'd long since scared them into submission; only Queen in his car (which was partially his own fault and not so much the Bentley's), and of course, not being able to turn away Aziraphale.
He reluctantly sat back down on the couch, suddenly aware of how close Aziraphale had been standing in front of him, and looked quickly at his sunglasses and tried a last ditch attempt to grab them, but Aziraphale was blocking them and suddenly he was sitting so close to Crowley that their knees were touching.
Crowley flicked his tongue out in a nervous habit, and stared at where their bodies met. He could see Aziraphale's hands twisting in his own nervous tell out of his peripheral vision, and Crowley tried to relax a bit. Which was quite hard given the topic of discussion they were about to dive into.
"I don't know if you'd remember, you were in a different sector than I, but Lucifer was very bright."
Aziraphale was looking at him dumbfounded. Crowley didn't know why he was starting his story this way either but it seemed to be coming from somewhere deep within and he just let it out. 6,000 + years and he'd never said anything besides a nonchalant "I asked to many questions," or "I just hung with the wrong people."
"I faintly remember." Aziraphale said unsure of himself. "It is true that as a principality I wasn't around you...or was I?"
Crowley shook his head and Aziraphale continued.
"I remember the fall quite well." Aziraphale stopped twisting his hands and Crowley pressed his knee closer to Aziraphale. This was as much his story as it was Aziraphale's. "Lucifer being bright? Not so much." He said bitterly.
Crowley huffed with sudden amusement.
"He was almost brighter than the damn sun at the time. He was warmth, and happiness, and he was filled with enough love to match God." He smiled slightly, the memories flowing back to him as if they'd never left. Aziraphale stiffened next to him.
"Surely not more than God herself." He stuttered.
"Close enough." Crowley said keeping himself in an amused state.
"Out of all of us, he was her favorite really, though she denied it from the beginning." He suddenly rose higher and straightened his spine, making his voice a soft, feminine, croon. "I have no favorites my dear child. I love all my creations equally."
Aziraphale furrowed his brows. "Is that what she sounded like?"
Crowley looked at him confused.
"I have heard her before, back with the whole sword fiasco...but she never sounded so-"
"It was a long time ago angel." Crowley cut him off.
"Lucifer, being so bright, handsome, kind, the whole nine yards, was what drew us all to him. I guess I could claim I was second favorite, for she allowed me to make stars and nebulas and worlds of my own." He trailed off. "There's a reason I have such an affinity for Alpha Centauri you know?"
"You?!" Aziraphale jumped back a little in his seat. "You did that?" There was such awe and wonder in his tone that Crowley could feel his corporeal form blush.
"Oh shush." He hissed lightly, motioning for the angel to calm down. "You can ooh and aah afterwards."
Aziraphale gave him a look that practically screamed I-do-not-ooh-and-aah, but returned to his previous spot, now with a little bit of their thighs touching added to the mix. Crowley decided to take it a step further and leaned back into the couch, throwing one arm along the back, so that if the angel just unclenched and let go, and leaned into the sofa, the demon could have his arm around him. Leaning further back also made sure there were no more gaps between their lowerhalfs.
"As I was saying," he pointedly stared at Aziraphale before focusing his attention on the mugs of cocoa - that were now long forgotten, " he had a certain light about him, even before we were given corporeal forms, that made him easy to trust. One day, almost out of nowhere, but it had probably been going on for much longer and we were too blind to see, his light had changed. It hurt to be around him now. He was still kind to us, and filled with warmth, but his light had changed so significantly that we were all becoming wary of him. He also began talking to other angels that he had never talked to before. He wouldn't give us straight answers when we asked him." Crowley wondered how he could convey to the angel through words how what Lucifer had been like back then. How it had been so easy to just get swept up in it all.
"I was always inquisitive as an angel, everything I made was made after asking myself a series of questions. So when She revealed her great plan, I of course asked questions."
"Wait." Aziraphale held up his hand. "She only told a few angels the great plan, the ineffable plan-"
"Not the same thing-"
"and they were archangels."
Crowley shrugged and looked into Aziraphale's eyes. They were the sort of blue that shifted from a deep lagoon blue, to a sort of green in the right lighting. Right now they were closer to the first option because the lighting in the shop was dim, but Crowley became lost in them all the same.
"You're an archangel." Aziraphale breathed out.
Crowley flinched. "Wasss. Was is the key word."
Aziraphale looked sheepish and offered up a sincere apology.
"I never would have thought, but I can see it now. I think I saw you once."
Crowley raised an eyebrow at this. He had spied the principality many times, often after he'd finished creating a new star he'd go to rest, regain his strength, and during those times he'd spy on the other angels. He had become infatuated - even more so now - with the angel that looked every bit of the stereotypical angel as one could. Soft white-blond curls, dazzling blue eyes, and soft, slightly rounded body. He had never been aware the other had ever seen him.
They were all rather close in the start, but as more and more angels were created, and God began to retreat, they stopped mingling outside their factions so Aziraphale and him had never had proper introductions.
Crowley had never even seen Aziraphale's true form, for God had given them corporeal bodies to match the new creations she was starting to make.
"I saw you once, watching me and the others. You had a look on your face that I- well- It'd be too forward of me to assume I know what that expression was but.." He trailed off and slowly brought one hand up to cup Crowley's cheek. The demon took in a breath he didn't need and all but melted into the soft hand that felt so warm on his face.
"Assume away angel." He trilled at the alliteration. The angel blushed and bit his lip as Crowley used the arm not laying on the back of the couch to wrap around the angels hand that was cupping his cheek, and tugged gently so the angel was curling into his side and their faces were only a few inches apart. Crowley moved his grip from the hand upward so his longer and slender fingers covered Aziraphale's smaller and pudgier ones.
"You were looking at me the way you are now." Aziraphale sounded breathless.
Crowley smiled slightly and curled the arm drapped over the back of the couch into Aziraphale's hair. His fingers sinking into the soft curls as Aziraphale's eyes fluttered at the contact.
"I only asked questions angel." His voice hitched and Aziraphale scooted closer, almost settling into Crowley's lap, his breath mingling with Crowley's.
"I took one look at Her plans and I couldn't stand it. I was supposed to be a healer for all and I was to do nothing as she tested them to destruction." His voice had acquired a whine that Aziraphale had never heard from the demon before. It was a sad whine that was asking Aziraphale why was he being punished for caring.
"She told me not to question her, that it was Her creation and how She knew what she was doing because she's God. But tell me angel, how were we supposed to love these creatures that she made in her image, and then sit back idly as they destroyed themselves. It is not in my nature to watch children be thrown away after they have served their purpose." Crowley's eyes were becoming glassy as he struggled not to let the tears out.
"I'm sure She didn't-"
"Oh ssshe did Aziraphale."
The use of his full name startled the angel slightly and he pulled Crowley close to him, so the demon's face was tucked in the crook of the angel's shoulder and neck. He breathed in sharply, taking in the smell of old books, vanilla, and something so utterly home that he let out a small sob. But only a small one as he was a demon now and demons did not cry.
Ten days after the apocalypse that wasn't, Crowley had found himself wondering about the great plan and the ineffable plan. The great plan had been the end of the world after 6,000 years, and he didn't want to think about it, but if he hadn't fallen, if he hadn't lost his rights to be an angel, an archangel, the great plan might have been the ineffable plan for their would not have been anymore days. But here they were, curled up together on the couch, Crowley spilling bits of his past to the celestial being that held a special place in his heart that no one else could occupy.
He didn't think he could ever forgive her for tossing him out, for tossing them all out. Lucifer may have become corrupted, absolutely unrecognizable now, but his light had never completely never gone away, just like Crowley's love for humanity and compassion for the hurt never dwindled. But it wasn't really his place to forgive Her. But in a way it was and it was all so confusing, because he'd been the betrayed one, not her. He hadn't done to her what Lucifer had done, but somehow he knew that he'd almost done worse by questioning her every move. He hadn't been outright about it, always asking the questions when they were alone, and he wondered if that had made it worse, rather than going the Lucifer route and shouting out to the world that he mistrusted her judgment.
"Out of all the questions I asked, there were only two that I could really contribute to my fall." He said softly into Aziraphale's neck as the angel rubbed soothing circles on his back. "Well, really there were multiple questions piled up onto each other that led to it all but there were two that I think really dug into Her."
"Why can't you forgive Lucifer? That one was right before the fall, as chaos rained in Heaven and everyone was fighting."
Aziraphale clutched him closer and Crowley felt a light kiss to his forehead.
"And the other?" Aziraphale prodded.
"You created them in your image- in our image," Crowley sounded as if he was reciting from a notecard, his voice dull, "what does that say about usss, that these creatures modeled after usss are to be tesssted to destruction." He fully sobbed now, letting the tears he'd pent in for thousands of years soak into Aziraphale's shirt. "Do you even really love usss?"
"Oh, Crowley." Was all Aziraphale could say, for his own faith had been shaken during the whole apocalypse, and here he was now with Crowley clinging to him, a tearful mess, unloading such heartache and hurt that the angel was filled with enough grief to fill another 6,000 years. He had never questioned God, happy to follow along with her plan, and even now he still believed in her, that even when she was cruel she was doing what was best for them. And he had the same thought that Crowley had, had much earlier in the day. That without the fallen, without Crowley losing his place in Heaven, there might really have been an end to the world.
"Can you say it?" Crowley pulled back and wiped away the wetness from his face with a shaky hand.
"Say what dear?" Aziraphale asked, not willing to let go of the demon now that they were finally embraced. It had been too long, much too long a wait. Aziraphale had himself to thank for that partially but he was done waiting now.
"Can you say my name?"
Aziraphale was confused for a moment before it dawned on him.
"Raphael."
The first time he said it Crowley flinched, looking ready to cry again. Aziraphale leaned in and placed gentle kisses to the demons cheeks, and then his nose and forehead. The demon moved his arms further down Aziraphale's body til they were holding Aziraphale's hips.
"Raphael."
The second time he said it, he maneuvered himself to straddle Crowley's lap, so they were in a more comfortable position, with Crowley's hands tightening on Aziraphale's hips, and Aziraphale cupping the back of Crowley's neck with one hand, the other wiping away a few stray tears before settling on the demons shoulder.
Aziraphale leaned forward slowly, his heart feeling as if it were going to leap out of his chest. His eyes never left Crowley as he pressed himself against the other. Their bodies touching everywhere. Soft upper body molding against the harsh and bony angles.
Their noses touched, just like the week before when Crowley had practically body slammed him agains the wall of the former church.
And as Aziraphale breathed out another "Raphael", their lips brushed. It was a chaste kiss, and simply much too short.
They both pulled away slightly, taking in this new change in their relationship.
"Angel?" Crowley's hands shook has they wrapped tighter around Aziraphale, slowly making their way up into his hair and around his waist.
"Crowley."
The name change was enough, and Crowley surged forward to capture Aziraphale's lips again. This kiss was filled with passion and lust that had been trapped for 6,000 years. Aziraphale clung to Crowley as the snake made absolutely wonderful sounds that made Aziraphale's corporeal form flash hot. Aziraphale clenched his eyes shut even tighter as his body all but exploded with a feeling he'd never experienced before. It was a warm feeling that was flaring from his lower belly, making him squirm in Crowley's lap.
There was a white flash behind his eyelids as he brushed against Crowley's cock and oh this is what humans felt.
Crowley was slipping his tongue into Aziraphale's mouth as the angel made opened his mouth to let out a soft sound that seemed to make Crowley hungry for more.
They could have been making out from anywhere between a few minutes to a few weeks. After all they were a celestial and an occult being and time didn't much matter anymore now that the the apocalypse had been thwarted.
Aziraphale pulled away reluctantly and smoothed the front of Crowley's suit where the angel had rumpled it up from grabbing it. "I just want you to know." He started, licking his lips, pleased as he saw Crowley's slitted eyes follow the movement.
"I'm not going to treat you any differently now that I know who you were. I know you Crowley, I know that deep down you're scared of my reaction, I'm not as oblivious as you think I am." Aziraphale cut Crowley off before the demon could object.
"But I love who you are now, not who you used to be." He softly kissed Crowley again, loving that hot rush he was starting to feel in his lower half. Staying celibate for 6,000 years, and just reading romance novels had definitely not prepared Aziraphale for the way his body was reacting to Crowley's.
"I love you too." The demon said against his lips. He frowned suddenly, and broke the kiss. "But don't expect me to say that all the time," he rushed, "I'm a demon, I don't do mushy." He said the word as if it were a nasty looking piece of gunk on the sidewalk.
Aziraphale gave a small laugh, the previous moments contradicting the huffy demons claim.
"Of course love." And Aziraphale pulled him back into a kiss.
It was later in the evening, the two were laying in bed, both flushed and pleased at the recent turn of events.
Crowley, true to the serpent side of him, was entwined around Aziraphale with a pleased hum vibrating throughout his entire body.
It was a true miracle that the bedroom that Aziraphale had squandered onto the floor above the bookshop had been dust free; but then again, the angel had expected the room to be in tip top shape and so it was.
Crowley was in that blissful place between being awake and sleeping when Aziraphale's voice floated out to him and he groaned.
"What is your obsession with this." He muttered into his lovers pale neck.
He at once regretted and didn't regret telling the angel about himself. While it had led to the best experience that Crowley had ever had before, Pandora's box was now open and unwilling to be shut.
"Well its just, I never saw Heaven the way you did. I was born into my corporeal form. She had decided before then that our other forms shouldn't be exposed as much. I have no clue what I look like or you. I was also separated from you, I didn't get to create parts of the universe, what was it all like?"
"Careful not to ask too many questions." Crowley teased, ignoring Aziraphale's worried look. He could joke about it now, he had 6,000 years to come to terms with what had happened.
"Creating was one of my favorite pastimes." Crowley pulled out of Aziraphale's embrace and flopped onto his back. He waited patiently for the angel to get the hint that he wanted to trade positions, and after a few minutes the angel cuddled up to Crowley, re-entwining their legs.
"It's hard to explain, but when I was creating I could feel each and every star or planet that I brought to life. The visions were in my head and then bam they were up in the air surrounding me, all kinds of colors and shapes and sizes." He frowned up at the ceiling as he thought back on those times. "Michael wasn't as excited to create as I was, and Gabriel was much as he is now, but I was thrilled to be given the task of making such beautiful things for all the angels to see."
He placed an absent-minded kiss onto the angels curls and lazily trailed his finger up and down Aziraphale's shoulder with the hand that was holding Aziraphale to him.
"As for my form well, it was much prettier than the other archangels." He puffed up slightly to Aziraphale's amusement.
"Lucifer, as I said before was always bright and beautiful, but I like to think I had a gentle beauty. Not overlooked, but only those who were deserving would know I was truly beautiful to behold." He continued with a fake air of haughtiness that made Aziraphale giggle.
"All the angels looked the same back then actually, we were all just various shades of light with little bits here and there that made us different. Michael was a pale blue light and she had these enormous looking antlers that hovered over her eyes. I guess to a human seeing us would be horrifying, but having multiple eyes was and little extra bits was to show our status, our celestial worth."
"So, we're all just balls of light with billions of eyes and extra bits?" Aziraphale wrinkled his nose.
Crowley laughed. "Believe me, it's a beautiful sight." He allowed a big smile to cross over his face, and oh boy was he over his quota for smiling. " I was a bright red light, not this darker maroon red that my hair is now, but a proper fiery red, and I had billions of golden eyes and two small wings." He squeezed the angel tighter to him.
"Gabriel used to always be jealous of my little wings. He was all purple, his light, his eyes, and he had a tail similar to a lions. Would have done anything to trade me for my wings, though even now I don't really understand why."
"You sounded lovely." Aziraphale said smoothly, stretching himself up a bit so he could gently kiss Crowley.
Crowley hummed into the kiss and they stayed like that for a few minutes, before Crowley felt Aziraphale's finger prodding at the tattoo right by where his side burns would be if he had any.
"I've noticed that some of the demons have creatures on their heads. You can turn into a snake, but Beelzebub has a fly on their head, and that nasty Hastur has a frog on his."
"Its a kind of irony I suppose." Crowley shrugged with some difficulty. "Some of the angels helped God create the creatures in the Garden. Except Hastur. He was quite fond of the frogs, didn't actually help create them but formed a sort of attachment to them and well, now he's got one on his head and he eats whatever flies fall off of Beelzebub." Crowley shuddered at that.
"Do you know their names? Their true names." Aziraphale asked quietly.
"I know Beelzebub's. They used to be Gadreel. The one that everyone thinks really tempted Eve. I guess all that matters is I was given the proper credit from my superiors. Never understood how the humans credited Gadreel to it but, they saw a fallen angel and chose him. I'm technically not fallen to them." He said bitterly. "I'm still up there with Michael, Uriel, Gabriel, the rest of them, creating more universes or something."
They stayed quiet for a moment, and Crowley must have gone back to sleep because when he woke it was dark outside his window, when it had just been early morning. What had woke him was a weird prickling on the back of his neck, and he snapped his head to look down at Aziraphale, and was startled to see that the angel was completely passed out. The angel had never been one for sleeping, claiming that he could do much more worthwhile things than sleep, but here he was snoring away.
Crowley never thought he would find snoring cute until his angel gave a little snore.
The prickling was intensifying and he slowly untangled himself from the angel, wanting to find the source of his unease. It was a feeling so very familiar, yet so forgotten that it scared him. He slid out of the bed and padded quietly out of the room, down the stairs, and hesitated at the doorway of the kitchen. The light was on, and the feeling intensified even more.
He suddenly wished he still had the tire iron he'd salvaged from the Bentley to use as a weapon as he stepped into the kitchen.
His snake eyes took a moment to adjust to the harsh brightness of the kitchen lights that he could have sworn were much dimmer, before he focused on the fact the light was coming from the being that was sitting on one of the mismatched chairs Aziraphale had salvaged from possibly the 14th century- it was uncomfortable and dull enough to be from then.
The being of light dimmed and suddenly he was facing a middle aged woman..or well no a teenage girl- his eyes closed shut of their own violation as he felt a dizzy spell coming upon him. The beings was flicking through faces faster than he could keep up.
There was a soft throat clearing that boomed in the small kitchen and he opened his eyes cautiously.
The dimmed kitchen lights didn't do justice for the woman in front of him. She had finally settled on a form he was very familiar with. He could sense underneath the corporeal form that she had taken who it was.
God was sitting in the kitchen of his lover and if that wasn't the start to some weird metaphor for life Crowley wasn't sure what was.
She had chosen a form that to any one else would have made them think she was Crowley's mother. Well she was, in a way, but they had never looked as similar as they did now. She was middle aged, with smile lines and crows feet. Her face wasn't as gaunt as his, but she was still slender and dressed simply in a lavender colored tux. Her red hair was the same shade as his, and curled neatly around her shoulders, and her eyes were as warm and golden as his used to be.
"Hello." She said softly.
Crowley wondered if he was having a heart attack. His demonic form normally wasn't usually influenced by his corporeal form, but he'd been going native for a long time so he wouldn't be surprised if his body keeled over right now and Aziraphale would have to call a human healer for him. Imagine that, the first healer not even being able to heal himself.
"Won't you sit." She commanded more than asked. The chair closest to him backed up a few inches and he almost fell into it.
"I think we should talk." She began.
"Talk?" He squeaked out. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I think the time for talking is way overdue."
An expression flitted over her face, but it was gone seconds before he could decipher it.
"Now Rapha-"
"Crowley." He interjected, not caring that he could be smited for his rudeness, or maybe she'd make him fall again. He didn't think that was possible, but this was God.
"Crowley." She pushed her tongue against her teeth as if tasting the word before nodding her head. "I know you have not forgiven me for what I have done, and I'm not here for forgiveness. It will be a long time for what I did to you to truly be forgiven. Crowley."
Crowley sat in the chair stunned.
She waved her hand and two cups of tea sat before them, wisps of translucent smoke curling up from the small china cups.
God took a delicate sip from hers before putting it back on the table.
Crowley didn't want to bother with his, but she was looking at him expectantly so he took a sip just as delicate.
"I'm sure now, that you have thought about the connection between the fall and the great plan." She took another sip of her tea and Crowley remained silent.
"I had to do what I thought was right for the future of creation. The fact that you questioned me once I shared my plan hurt a lot Crowley."
Crowley felt himself become angry, but with one look from her he stayed silent.
"My plan was supposed to be built on trust. But I was misleading myself for trust needs to go both ways. By not explaining everything I caused duress within my children, I caused the fall without even really meaning to." Her eyes were boring into his soul it felt - if he still had one - but he couldn't contain his anger for much longer.
"Then why couldn't you just bloody tell us what was really happening! You lead me to believe that you would kill your creations!" He was shouting but he couldn't care less if it woke up Aziraphale. If the angel were here maybe he'd finally understand what Crowley had gone through.
"You and your ineffable plan." He was practically hissing now, knocking the chair back as he stood.
"All your plans, the great one, the ineffable one, if you had answered any of my questions back then with the truth I would still be up there and not here." The anger was trailing out of him and all he felt was tired, this argument was useless. What was done to him had happened so many years ago that he knew deep in his heart that if God offered him a second chance, he would not take it.
"But you can already see Crowley." She spoke calmly, as if he hadn't just shouted at her.
"Sssee what." Crowley hissed. Oh great, even she had gotten him so worked up he was fucking hissing.
"That without you falling, without you being able to give Eve the apple, and meeting Aziraphale, none of this would exist. I know you miss the stars and all you have created, but there would be no world as it is now if you had not been up here with your angel."
Crowley allowed a quick pout before he scratched at the back of his neck.
He hadn't been aware until now that he was only in black boxers and socks that had little succulents on them. He knew it mattered not to God what he was dressed as be he was longing for his sunglasses to appear on his face, and for proper skinny jeans and a silk shirt to cover him up under her gaze that peeled layers away from him.
Something about being in the vicinity of her love again was draining him - also the yelling and pent up emotions of talking to God - and he doubted he had the energy to miracle up clothes and his glasses, so he crossed his arms trying to cover as much of his body as he could.
"That may be very well true." He admitted begrudgedly. "But to make us fall, there wasn't any other way? It hurt so much." He had a pleading edge in his voice, trying to make her understand.
She stood up, the cups of tea vanishing as she made her way to him. He tried to take a step back but she was suddenly nose to nose with him and he couldn't retreat. She made herself slightly taller and wrapped her arms around him in such a loving and warm embrace that he cried for the second time in less than twenty four hours.
His hand hung limply at his sides as she muttered unintelligible words into his ear, words that left him shuddering.
Finally, he raised his arms and returned her embrace loosely, and tilted his head so it was tucked under her chin.
"There was no other way, no other outcome that would not result in the end of this world. Even I am not as powerful as my creations sometimes." She pulled back to give him a knowing look, and he faintly wondered if this was her first time around.
"I'm so very sorry Crowley. Please know that I love you all very much, no matter how far gone some are than others." Her smile was bitter now and he knew who she was referring to.
"My time here is up, so please remember that I am always here, watching and loving you from afar. There is nothing I can do to make up for what I have done my star maker, but please know that I am always here. I will see you again." The last words were said with a heavy finality, and Crowley felt himself missing her warmth when she stepped away from him.
He knew that he couldn't forgive her yet, maybe not ever, at least not fully. But he wouldn't mind talking to her again, questioning her again. It was almost as if he hadn't fallen and they were back in Heaven.
"I don't understand mother, if these humans are to be made in our image, then why do they look like that?"
"Because soon you will look like them too. I have decided to give you corporeal forms, easier for you to feel everything I imagine."
"Are you not going to take a corporeal form?"
God chuckled and suddenly a hand landed on Raphael's new form. "I am every form for I am God."
Raphael nodded for this made sense to him.
"I am very proud of the latest creation you have made, you're taking after me." A blinding smile is turned towards him and he feels a wave of love.
"What did you name it?"
"Alpha Centauri."
Crowley let's her kiss her forehead and soon she's gone, the kitchen empty and silent. The light is off and he whispers into the darkness, a soft and sad "goodbye mother."
He stretches, his back cracking and he saunters over to the fridge, his body moving in the familiar pattern of swinging his hips as if he is still in snake form. A habit he has not kicked in 6,000 years of being in a human form. He opens the fridge, his eyes scanning the endless shelves of food, drinks, and condiments that had been miracled to be there if ever the angel wanted a snack, which was often.
Many of their nights drinking were accompanied by Aziraphale digging into the fridge and pulling out something salty or sweet.
His eyes caught on a milk bottle that had hardly any milk left inside and he shrugged to himself. He uncapped it, preparing to pour it into his mouth when he became aware of another presence. For a second he thought it was God again, for he felt a strong wave of love coming his way, but when he turned to the doorway of the kitchen where the presence was coming from, he almost dropped the milk bottle out of shock.
A brilliant golden blob of light was illuminating the doorway and part of the kitchen. More than twenty eyes were turned towards him and staring unblinkedly with a familiar deep lagoon blue, with a tinge of lighter green. Aziraphale had a crown of flames above him and Crowley fell for the angel for the second time.
"My dear boy, this is the final time you drink straight from the carton." Aziraphale said in a disembodied voice.
He was probably trying to sound foreboding, but the waves of light that were unfiltered in this form killed the affect.
Crowley stiffled a laugh. "Angel, I don't think the effect you're going for is working."
The angel huffed, and all of his eyes rolled upwards.
"And why in the world are you like this?" Crowley motioned with his arm in an up and down movement towards the being.
"Well you were not in bed, and I was thinking back to what you said. I was curious...and I thought something might have happened to you." The angel admitted.
"So you felt the need to try and scare me half to death by trying out your true form?" Crowley walked closer, not bothered by the brightness of Aziraphale. He stopped in front of the angel and allowed himself to look at his angel with all the fondness and adoration that he could muster.
All the eyes went to half mast as Crowley let a little bit of his true self appear and brush against Aziraphale.
Aziraphale was suddenly back in his human form, the kitchen light flicking on not that either of them really needed it to.
He was looking softer than ever, in an old fashioned white nightgown that nobody had worn since the 17th century and looking at Crowley sleepily. Crowley's heart was filled with enough love that it easily matched with Aziraphale's. He scooped the angel into his arms, his sharper body sinking easily into the plusher parts of the angel.
"Were you really down here for milk?" Aziraphale asked quietly, his eyes still half closed as Crowley kissed a pathway down his forehead, to the tip of his nose, and finally to his lips.
"Let's go back to sleep angel." Crowley ignored the question.
Maybe he would tell the angel one day what had transpired, but for now he was more than happy to just follow the love of his life back up the stairs and into the bed.
While he cradled Aziraphale to his chest, he felt a soft pressure running through his hair, as if someone was running their fingers through it. He pushed back into the disembodied touch for a bit before curling closer around Aziraphale, finally letting sleep over come him.