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Chapter Text

“Who decided THESE define how we look at things that we love?”

Aziraphale held a white puppy at arm’s length and failed to be drawn in by it’s wide, “you adore me” eyes.

Precious, innocent, and unblemished by the realities of existence. Stupid.

It’s pink tongue was out and it was as fluffy as the clouds it and it’s litter slept on. It’s breath had that built in, sweet “something”.

Pleasant and undefined.

There was a time when Aziraphale thought the scent of a puppy’s breath should be made into a candle, to produce the feeling it caused on a whim.

How many human wars would that smell have stopped in their tracks?

Now, however, he was unmoved.

“Well, um…sir! Your…Mr.Sir…!”

One of countless lesser angels managed to ignore being smacked by the new Supreme Archangel’s wings, as Aziraphale set the puppy back in it’s bed and spun on his heel.

The angel tapped their clipboard and followed him to the next containment area.

“Humans decided, sir! “Puppy dog eyes” as they say.”

The lesser angel rolled their own eyes, assuming they were sharing a mutual, silly observation about those Earth beings.

”Big and dumb. That’s how they look at other humans, when they feel the love thing.”

Aziraphale sighed and rubbed his temples. He didn't have headaches in heaven, but he’d held on to that Pavlovian reaction to annoying situations.

“It’s the soul, I suppose.” He muttered to himself.

“Who decided they're so important, anyway? And why do things with souls have rounded pupils?”

He paused at the the next batch of animals, ready to start their lives on Earth. They just needed to be granted a soul…or be sent off without one.

Witnessing soul dispersement had caused the idea to lose it’s magic.

Souls were crafted and handed out like restaurant flyers on the street. Most mortal things just balled them up and threw them away, with barely a glance.

“You should never learn how sausage is made, as they say…” Aziraphale was still muttering to himself, but his assistant heard.

“What is sausage, sir?”

“Something this may be turned into.” Aziraphale shrugged and motioned towards a black baby goat, mindlessly slurping on a rain cloud.

“And no one will care, because it has that rectangular eye business going on. No souls for this lot…” He motioned down the rest of the wall.

Past the puppies, elephant, and human babies, along the giant, featureless room that was the “Soul Dispersant Building”, were the fodder.

Everything with hooves or the wrong kind of eyes. Kittens, piglets, calves, goats…and reptiles. With another pity filled sigh, Aziraphale despised his own questioning.

And, as always, he passed the cold-blooded area with barely a glance. No souls for anything with scales.

“Who let them decide, anyway?” He asked over his shoulder, as his helper hurried behind him, taking notes.

“Humans do a bad job of deciding anything on their own. Being flawed comes with the territory…”

His assistant had lost track of what Aziraphale was talking about. Besides, how would they know the origin of “puppy dog eyes”?

And why would they care?

Aziraphale’s steps had sped up, but stopped short when something caught his eye in the endless white.

His assistant, with their nose in their clipboard, ran into him, spilling gold ink and apologizes all over his back.

“Sir, I am SO sorry! Stains don’t exist here, so…!”

“It’s alright! It’s my fault…” Aziraphale waved them off, failing to acknowledge the ink being miracled from his pristine coat and wings.

At his feet, behind a panel of glass, was a clutch of new snakes. They’d passed the inspections of the Creator, and were on their way to live their empty lives on Earth.

Among the twisting, spinning nest of bodies was a single black snake. Fragile and tiny, standing out amongst the brown of the rest.

Aziraphale couldn’t feel pain in this place, but his celestial body recalled how it felt for his stomach to clench and his heart to break.

The little snake’s eyes were sunflower yellow and it’s pupils were slits. It wouldn’t be allowed to feel anything on Earth. Nothing of substance, anyway.

No joy as it lay in the warm sun. No love when it abandoned it’s own clutches of eggs, without ever seeing what it had brought in to the cruel world.

It would only feel fear or hunger. That, and the desire to procreate and the mindless drive to keep existing, until it couldn’t.

The souls were endless up here, but none were to be wasted on something that crawled on it’s belly. By no fault of it’s own.

Were these the lucky ones? To possess a soul seemed like such a pointless burden.

Since leaving Earth, Aziraphale had gotten good at blocking out such thoughts. But today was a particularly bad day.

He’d finally worked up the nerve to look out the window of his office, not an hour before. How he wished he hadn’t.

“Who let them decide?”

He asked this out loud once more, and angrily swiped at the front of his ill-fitted coat. He hated the clothes up here, and there was nothing to dust off himself.

Another leftover move, from his time on Earth. He never thought he’d miss dirt.

“S…sir, forgive me, but it’s not our job to question such things.” His aid had lowered their voice and taken a step back.

“Especially since you already know the answer. And the consequences…”

Aziraphale was angry. He’d decided to finally allow himself to be angry, at least for today.

He’d done much worse after all, and gotten away with it.

“Let’s try something new for a few hundred years? What do you say?”

He turned once more and passed the animals in a fussy huff.

As he left the room, he snapped his fingers a single time. It was all he had to do to nowadays, in order to produce a powerful Miracle.

The lesser angel didn’t follow after him. Instead, they shifted their wings and fiddled awkwardly with their clipboard, looking around for a result of the magic they’d felt.

At first, they didn’t see anything had changed, and made to leave.

It was time to send this batch of creatures to Earth to be born, and lateness was frowned upon when it came to that sort of thing.

Their wings drooped a bit. Disappointment was a rare feeling, for a being in heaven.

They’d been excited to heed someone else’s beck and call, after dealing with Gabriel for a few millennia.

Aziraphale had been rumored as being kind to a fault and patient, but all he’d done so far was question everything and complain.

“At least he does his…job.” The angel paused as they walked by the fenced in puppies.

“What in Heaven?” They mumbled and knelt down for a closer look.

The litter of white puppies was still perfect and adorable, with one awful difference.

Their eyes had been a mix of blues and browns. Round, stupid pupils that drew in unconditional love.

For the first time in their life, the angel felt a shiver run down their spine.

The dog’s eyes were different now. Yellow and cold, with black slits to see through.

None of them blinked. They didn’t need to anymore.

Chapter Text

“Sir, you gotta leave!” A loud, Irish voice was in Crowley’s ear.

There was also music blaring, along with the rhythmic thumping and laughing of dancers.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” Crowley thought to himself.

Everything was black and he couldn’t lift his head to address whomever dared order him around, but he was pretty sure they weren’t allowed.

“I’ll take care of him!” Came a third, loud voice.

Female, probably, but who cared?

“I’ve been watching him all night! He’s having a rough one!”

Crowley wasn’t drunk enough to not realize how creepy that statement was, but he was too drunk to do anything about it.

“I’m fine, I just…” his eyes were squeezed shut, as his hand pat on the table for his sunglasses.

He felt nothing. Not even when he panicked and patted about with both hands.

A nauseous wave came over him, that had nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’d ingested, though it did add to that particular wave he was riding.

Risking a peek, he lifted his lids and scanned about the dirty table with his yellow irises.

Where the fuck were his sunglasses? Why was he so stupid? His gaze landed on something to his right.

Cleavage.

Pale, plump, freckled cleavage tucked into a white top.

All of this was probably attached to a whole person, but Crowley had stopped being surprised by most things.

Between this set of lovely breasts, there was a pair of sunglasses, hanging from the woman’s neckline.

Pink, heart shaped frames with dark red lenses.

Certainly not his style, by any means, but they’d have to suffice.

“Migraine.”

Crowley spit out an excuse and fumbled his hands on the poor woman’s chest, snatching her sunglasses.

He hoped she was as kind as her voice had sounded, or that he at least looked cool enough tonight to get away with such behavior.

Once the glasses were on, he opened his sunflower eyes all the way, to see the world was rose colored.

If he wasn’t wasted and depressed, he’d have enjoyed the effect it had on this shitty establishment.

“You came out on Halloween to drink away a migraine?”

Crowley turned back to the lady with the nice chest and had a moment of shock over her attire, before her words got through to him.

Halloween.

That’s why she wore cheap angel wings and her pretty face twinkled with glitter.

It also explained why he was surrounded by scantily clad cats, sexy nuns and their teen wolf boyfriends.

Crowley felt his head dip and slowly rise, as he took in the girl’s outfit, from toe to halo.

Tall white heels, a short, tight white dress and a tinsel halo to match her fake feathered wings.

“I’ve never met an angel who’d be caught dead in that.” He slurred and motioned at the bar for another shot.

The bartender rightfully ignored him.

“Met many angels, have you?” The girl was taken in enough by his looks to ignore his mean tone.

“At least five…hey, have you seen a pair of…? Ugh…” Crowley tried to stand and had to lean on the table.

How long had they let him pass out here?

“Woah, ok. Ok…” the woman’s tone went from flirtatious to worried.

“Who’d you come here with? Where are your friends?”

Crowley groaned and shook his head. He wanted to throw up, to make room and drink more.

The woman was close to his ear and edging him towards the exit.

“Are you here all alone?”

Fuck.

Crowley let out a strangled noise and fell to his knees. The sound was a sob, but the not an angel lady assumed he was about to throw up.

“Oh, you poor thing. Come on, not in here…” she motioned to the table across the way, to summon her friends for help.

Chapter Text

“Here, drink this.”

Crowley was sitting on the bathroom floor, in Not an Angel’s apartment, and his host knelt with him.

The girl's soothing voice was enough to convince him to allow himself to be taken care of, but it had it’s limits.

He grabbed the glass she offered and took a big drink, before promptly spitting out it’s contents in a huge, sputtering mist.

“What the hell did you just give me?” He angrily demanded, and tried to stand.

Nope, still too drunk to do that on his own. His hand slipped on the now wet floor and he fell with a plop.

“Water.” The poor girl answered his question, while delicately wiping off the drink he’d spewed in her face.

She took the empty cup and set it in the bathtub.

“You need to sober up.”

“Don’t tell me what I need.” Crowley grouched and slid down the wall, until he was laying on the floor.

His long legs filled the small space, and he put off the same vibes as a grumpy toddler in a stretched out body.

“I need vodka and an Uber.”

“To go where?”

“That’s my business.” Crowley muttered and pushed up the heart shaped glasses he was still wearing.

Not an Angel was still patient, despite Crowley accidentally crushing her wings in the struggle to walk here, and slapping her halo off as they climbed the stairs .

Her mother was always telling her to stop trying to fix “broken man babies”…but it was Halloween, her favorite holiday.

And this man baby seemed so sad.

“Beth?” A knock came at the bathroom door.

“Do we need to call the police?” One of her male roommates called.

“Probably, but not yet!” Bethany Not an Angel joked.

“Give him a little while.” She sighed as she stood and opened the door.

Crowley had passed out on the pink, fluffy bathroom rug.

“I have to pee.” Her roommate complained.

“Go off the balcony.” Beth rolled her eyes and lightly shoved him away from the door.

“What’s the point of being a man if you can’t pee wherever?”

That was the last thing Crowley heard, before falling into a deep sleep.

…….

He woke up some time later, still drunk, but not as much.

“Where am I?” He wondered and pulled himself up on the toilet.

As he looked around, dread settled in his gut. It happened again.

Along with the pink, fluffy rug he’d ground his dirty boots into, he’d pulled the pink shower curtain off three of it’s rungs.

He was in a stranger’s bathroom.

Nowadays, if he didn’t end up in a bathroom, it was on someone’s couch or bed…completely clothed each time, fortunately.

Not that anyone could get away with trying anything like that.

No, something about Crowley just made humans want to take care of him, when he was blacking out.

This was a new development he didn’t take the time to wonder about. Because who cared?

Who cared about anything? Nothing mattered anymore.

He felt around on the floor and found his sunglasses. Wait…no.

Pink hearts.

“What the fuuuck?” He hissed as he managed to stand, to loom over the sink and look in the bathroom mirror.

His red hair and brand new clothes were a mess, he’d lost his favorite leather jacket…and his snake eyes were completely out.

The white he focused on projecting, the majority of the time, was gone.

His yellow sclera was more vibrant than he’d seen it in years, and he was too drunk to do anything about it.

A loud giggle caught his attention, from outside the door. Crowley jumped and whipped around in a panic.

“Shit.” He whispered, his eyes darting back and forth, as he attempted to remember the previous night.

All he could recall was a pretty blond angel, all in white.

But not HIS pretty blond angel…

“Shut up.” He ordered himself.

“Sober up and sneak out. You’ve got vodka in the Bentley…”

Except the Bentley was mad at him. Hiding…

It didn’t come when he called anymore. He’d been forced to become well acquainted with taxis and Uber.

With a low growl, Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and focused on summoning every bit of alcohol from his blood stream.

His knuckles turned white, as he clutched the edges of the sink. The cheap, fake porcelain started to fill with brown liquid.

Scotch had been his drink of choice, apparently. Strong, bad scotch.

Breathing hard and shaking, he tried to look away, before noting he’d had enough to kill a human man.

With begrudging acceptance, he pulled the tab to drain it all away.

“Who cares?” He asked out loud and looked back to the mirror.

Bright yellow and red rimmed, these things would terrify whatever humans were out there.

Crowley put the heart shaped glasses on once more, and called upon all his sneaky snakieness.

He’d get out of this apartment, before anyone remembered he was here.

“My mouth tastes like I licked an ashtray.” He whispered, as he quietly turned the doorknob.

Apparently, drunk Crowley was smoking again.

Chapter Text

The first thing Crowley noticed was that, while the bathroom smelled like flowers…the apartment smelled like dirty feet.

As he tiptoed through the place, he noted men’s clothing on the back of an ugly, old couch. The word “man cave” made sense now, as he’d never stepped foot in one, his entire time on earth.

“Did I actually meet a woman last night?” He pondered, when he made it to the door.

He’d been incredibly wasted, so maybe those curves and freckles were an illusion…

“There you are! I was coming to pour this on your face!”

Crowley startled, for the second time in the last five minutes, and spun towards the familiar voice.

“Hi! Oh I was just…sorry! I was leaving! I…I broke your shower curtain!” He stammered out.

“I noticed.” The young woman giggled and stepped forward to shake his hand.

“I’m Bethany.”

The Not an Angel from the night before was smiling sweetly at him. He noticed she was holding a glass of ice water.

Dressed in white pajamas, with her hair down in second day curls, Crowley realized blondes gave him a sense of comfort.

This was a realization he quickly buried down into the depths of his subconscious, which was a surprisingly shallow place to bury something.

“You were going to pour that on me?” Crowley ignored her extended hand, choosing to motion at the glass in her other.

“Seems rude.”

“I was afraid you died on my bathroom floor.” Bethany casually explained, before sipping the water.

“And the boys will really need the shower.”

As if summoned, one of the said boys rounded the corner that Beth had appeared from.

“Aw, dude! He lives!” The young man was too excited this early in the morning, and rushed at Crowley with open arms.

“Don’t…!” Crowley seized up and seethed air through his clenched teeth, as he was embraced by a complete stranger.

“I told Beth to call an ambulance!” The boy held him by his shoulders, at arm’s length, and grinned at him.

“Mostly to just get you out of our apartment, though. I had to pee off the balcony and the people below us yelled at me…”

Humans didn’t touch Crowley often, and certainly never hugged him.

A few thousand years ago, he’d have turned this one into a roach for a day for his audacity. But Aziraphale had asked him to stop doing such things…

Aziraphale’s name, flashing across his mind, was enough to erase Crowley’s anger. It was replaced with a desperate search for a distraction.

“Is there a liquor store near here?” He held the glasses closer to his face and backed up towards the door.

“I don’t think that’s a good…” Beth was interrupted by the door banging open, barely missing Crowley’s back.

Two more college aged boys were laughing and drunkenly stumbling in. One of them was holding the hand of a girl they’d convinced to come back with them.

What was left of their cheap Halloween costumes hung off them, Crowley assumed they were a mummy and a vampire.

“Heeey! So this is the Bathroom Man? Who were you dressed as?” The Mummy threw his arm over Crowley’s shoulder.

Crowley could feel himself burning from the inside out. With rage or claustrophobia, he wasn’t sure.

“A rock star, right? But which one?” The boy playfully reached for Crowley’s heart glasses.

“Come on.” Bethany stepped in, just in time, and grabbed Crowley’s hand.

“I have a mini fridge in my room.” She explained. She led him away from her roommates, who were whooping and hollering now.

“Bathroom Man is getting lucky!”

Crowley decided to throw himself out of the girl’s window, the moment he stepped in her bedroom.

Whether it was open or not.

…….

“Sorry about them.” Bethany handed Crowley a cold beer.

This convinced him to sit at her vanity, rather than escaping out the window.

Like the bathroom, her bedroom was the polar opposite of the rest of the apartment.

Neat, feminine and smelling of lavender. Crowley felt himself relaxing against his will.

The Bentley smelled like lavender for a while, after Aziraphale borrowed it.

Too tired to cry over that memory, at the moment anyway, he cracked the beer open and drank it too fast.

“Wow…you’re really running away from something, huh?” Bethany sounded sympathetic, rather than judgmental.

“No.” Crowley flatly lied. He crushed the can and tossed it in her tiny trashcan.

While eyeballing her pink mini fridge, he missed her sitting on the bed.

“I always know when someone is lying.” Bethany casually claimed and leaned back on her hands.

“Especially when they’re so bad at it.”

Crowley glowered at her from behind the hearts.

“You drink too much.” She went on.

“Typical, dangerous escapism. More often seen in men, at least to the degree you’re doing it.”

Bethany flipped her curls and looked a bit haughty.

“According to my psychology class, anyway. Which I’m mastering in, by the way.”

Crowley rolled his eyes at her less than humble brag.

“You’ll either have to process what’s hurting you, or you’ll drink yourself to death. I don’t typically see the world so black and white, but in this case…” Beth went on.

“Do you often let strange men in your room, without even knowing their names?” Crowley interrupted her.

“I don’t think that’s female specific escapism, but I could be a serial killer, for all you know.”

“I never said I was perfect.” Beth shrugged.

“And sometimes it takes an idiot to recognize an idiot.”

Crowley opened his mouth to argue, but snapped it shut. He had a soft spot for humans who stood up to him.

And this was the longest conversation he’d had in almost a year. The gears in his brain were so rusted with alcohol, he’d forgotten how nice it was to speak to someone else.

“Are you a serial killer, Mr…?” Bethany leaned forward and grinned at him.

Crowley paused, before letting out a resigned sigh.

He stood and walked over to the mini fridge, grabbing three beers his arms.

“Just call me Anthony. And I haven’t been responsible for anyone’s death in years.”

Bethany giggled at what she assumed was a joke.

Crowley tossed her a beer and kept the other two for himself. He sat back at her vanity and just gave up.

“Why is someone so smart and fluffy living with a bunch of smelly guys?” He asked, as he opened both of his drinks.

Bethany opened her’s as well, but didn’t partake.

“I have a thing about mothering people. And college boys don’t know how to function without a mother yet.”

She tapped the can and gave him a thoughtful look.

“And opposites attract, as they say. Whoever THEY are…”

Chapter Text

“And they just took the job! After everything we suffered through, because of that…um…”company”, they took the job and moved away!”

Crowley would have been sloshing his beer everywhere, if he hadn’t drained it already.

He was pacing Bethany’s bedroom, waving his hands about and loudly discussing what he’d held back for a year.

“So far away! Unreachable…”

“You feel betrayed.” Beth nodded along, from her place on the bed.

“No! I mean…yes, but that’s not fair to them!” Crowley let out a frustrated growl and chunked his third beer can in the trash.

“I have no right to feel betrayed. It’s my nature to be selfish…”

“You mean human nature?” Bethany pushed.

“We’re all naturally selfish, sometimes…”

“Not Azira…I mean…not them! They’re not capable of it! ” Crowley’s voice was too loud and he sounded irrational.

“And human nature doesn’t apply here!”

Bethany didn’t judge him for his behavior and statements. In fact, she had an unnatural acceptance for this odd character in her space.

Crowley was too emotional, and understood too little about human interactions, to see how weird this entire situation was.

“I don’t know this other person’s side of the story, but hearing yours, I’m inclined to disagree with you.” Beth went on.

She put on her therapist voice, that she’d practiced often in the mirror.

“Everyone is capable of selfishness. You’ve put this person on a pedestal, which is common when we…”

“No! No, it wasn’t their fault.” Crowley stopped pacing and pinched his nose above the sunglasses.

“They’re good. They’re always good and I don’t think they’re capable of being anything but that…”

The sigh he let out was more weepy than he’d hoped to allow himself, but out it came.

“They did the right thing, leaving me behind. The “good” thing. They’re always…”

He sat back at her vanity with a huff and let his face fall to his hands.

“…good. And I’m not.”

“What makes you so bad?” Bethany asked.

“Drugs? Were you abusive?”

“No. It was…” Crowley had to keep stopping himself.

“Did you drink like this, when you were together?” Bethany pushed.

“Because addiction can drive away even the most loyal…”

“I love too much!” Crowley spit out what had to be his greatest sin.

Bethany stopped talking and let him finish.

“I always have! And clearly that’s wrong, but She never said why! But it has to be wrong…right?”

Crowley raked his hands through his hair, and Beth missed his mad eyes behind those hearts.

“If it wasn’t wrong, then She wouldn’t have…then I wouldn’t have…”

“Wouldn’t have what?” Bethany braced herself for his confession.

Had he stalked his ex? How did one “love too much”?

“I wouldn’t have fallen.” Crowley’s voice was almost too quiet now.

“If I’d just done as I was told. If I just hadn’t cared so damn much…and now I’ve lost the only person who ever…”

“If you’d done as you were told?” Bethany puffed up a bit at that.

“Who did this this person think they were? Your mother? Partners don’t get to boss each other around…”

“Not them. I mean, Az was…”bossy”, but I like that about…” Crowley let out an exasperated growl and waved her words away.

“No, I’m not talking about this anymore. It’s pointless.”

“If not Az, then who is this “she”?” Bethany pushed, even as Crowley stood up, like he intended to leave.

“Who did you disobey enough to “fall” from their good graces?”

Crowley shook his head.

“You wouldn’t understand. There was only one person on this planet that could have understood…but…”

“It WAS your mother, wasn’t it?” Bethany asked, her voice haughty once more.

Crowley’s brow furrowed over the glasses, but he didn’t correct her.

“The “mother wound” is one of the deepest and takes the longest to heal. No wonder you’re a mess.” Bethany motioned to the vanity bench once more.

“It explains a lot. And I won’t push you to talk about it…unless you want to pay me in a few years.”

Chapter Text

“Well, this is new! What’s behind here?”

Almost a year into his new job, Aziraphale managed to finally find interest in something.

“Oh, that. That’s just a failed suggestion from the box.” Another one of his aides rolled their eyes at his discovery.

A golden door with a beautiful, massive silver lock.

It was far back in one of Gabriel’s endless storage rooms, blocked by cardboard boxes full of unfinished paperwork.

Aziraphale set down the box he’d been attempting to organize and approached the door.

“Gabriel had a suggestion box?” He asked, as he ran his fingers down the lock’s delicate design.

His aide looked about, to make sure no one was within hearing distance, even though they were the only two in the room.

A leftover habit of their own, from when Gabriel was in charge and the lesser angels wanted to complain about him.

“Your predecessor had many…”good” qualities, but imagination wasn’t one of them. He put the box out as a “contest”.”

The angel tucked their quill behind their ear, tsk tsked and shook their head.

“The purpose, he claimed, was to see if any of us had an idea good enough to warrant a promotion. “

They glanced around once more, before giving him a sly look.

“But we all knew he just couldn’t come up with anything on his own.” The angel let out a hint of a derisive giggle, before bowing their head in shame.

Aziraphale just gave a small hum of agreement, but he was more forgiving than anyone else towards Gabriel.

His aide watched him wave his hand and produce a massive key ring, from nothing.

They recognized it as Gabriel’s keyring. Something he’d grown over time and rarely used.

Heaven was full of doors he’d hidden his mistakes behind.

The amount of keys was absurd, but Aziraphale started shifting through to find one that might fit such a lock.

“Oh, there is no point in bothering with it, Sir. The Guardian Angel program was a complete dud.”

“The what?” Aziraphale didn’t stop trying keys.

…….

“So, how long were you two together?”

Beth had managed to get Crowley to sit on the bed with her. He was as stiff as a board and finally coming to terms with how weird this was.

But the flood gates were open, and he’d just kept talking and talking. Stuff he’d never said out loud, to anyone.

Not even Aziraphale. Especially not Aziraphale.

He sensed something was off about Bethany, now. Something he should have picked up on immediately, considering he was a demon.

But grief blunted most everything about him, especially his ability to care about his own wellbeing.

He just needed someone to talk to.

“We were…”together”, for a long time. A long long long…time.”

Crowley gripped the pink sheets, beneath his hands.

“We weren’t even “together”, officially. In the human sense. I mean, I…I wanted…or hoped…”

He let his shoulders drop and his head dip.

“They were my best friend. And I couldn’t make myself worthy of…”

Bethany pouted and scooted a bit closer. After taking a deep breath, she reached down and took Crowley’s hand.

Crowley jumped and tried to pull away, but her grip was stronger than it should have been.

He looked into her blue eyes, though they looked purple through the red lenses. Her pupils were huge.

“H…hey, I don’t really like being touched. No offense…”

“You know, it’s not exactly scientific, but…”

Bethany ignored his words and took his hand in both of hers. She caressed him gently and attempted to see his eyes through the hearts.

“…I read that, if you truly love someone, it takes at least half the time you’ve known them, to get over them.”

Crowley stopped trying to get his hand back and his eyebrows raised high in horror.

“W…where did you read that?” He whispered.

“How long did you two know one another?” Beth pushed, instead of answering.

Crowley took a moment to consider the millennia he’d been alive.

About how the last six thousand years were when he’d had the most of those brief, fragile pockets of happiness. Real happiness. Not the kind built on Heaven’s lies, in the beginning of it all.

Half of six thousand was three thousand. Three thousand years of grief.

He swallowed hard and searched Beth’s eyes as well. Searching for help and knowing no human could provide it.

“I think I need a lobotomy.” He whispered.

Bethany smiled sadly and leaned in a bit closer.

“Sorry, but those were banned within my practice. For ethical reasons.” Her smile grew and reached for Crowley’s face.

“You could just let go. You’re too handsome to be this sad.” She claimed and kissed him.

Crowley had a moment to feel her soft, warm lips on his own, before yanking away. He yelped as he fell off the bed with a loud bang.

Bethany touched her mouth. A tiny bit, of whatever spell she seemed to be under, faded.

How were his lips that cold, but he was still alive?

Chapter Text

“Trust me, that is not something you want to do.”

Crowley pulled himself up, using the bed frame, and tried to look apologetic through the hearts.

Bethany dropped her hand and gave him a confused look.

“I…I have never been rejected before.” She spoke softly, mostly to herself.

“Don’t take it personally, darling. You’re a pretty little thing, for a mortal.” Crowley stood and dusted himself off.

“I just don’t do all that…anymore.”

“Anymore?” Bethany watched him open her bedroom window, with a grunt, and look to see how high up he was.

“Not since the late 60s.” He admitted, his walls still unnaturally lowered.

“It was the “free love” movement, you know? Sex was an easy way to corrupt you lot. Not my thing though, as it turns out.”

“The 60s?” Bethany whispered. Crowley didn’t look old enough to be an adult in the 60s.

Crowley felt around his pockets and cursed to see his favorite lighter was gone. He sank to his knees and felt around under the bed.

He could light his cigarettes on his own, with hellfire…but Aziraphale gave him that lighter. It was a lovely old thing, with little fireflies etched into the antique sliver.

“Nah, bedding a demon is probably the worst thing you could do. You’d think you’re seeing God, but…”

“Demon?” Bethany mouthed and hugged her knees to her chest, as she scooted away from this stranger in her room.

“We don’t really need to stop, so humans can’t keep up. You either literally burn out, or you’ll spend the rest of your life wanting it again….there you are, you bastard.”

Crowley snatched the lighter from under the bed and held it close to his chest as he stood.

“I had to erase so many memories back then, to keep people from following me everywhere and begging. It was a bad look all around…”

He pressed the lighter to his lips, with barely a thought, and tucked it back in his pocket.

“Even if I DID erase your memory, you’d walk around the rest of your life wondering what was missing. Unfulfilled…”

“You’re a very confident…insane person.” Bethany tried to make a joke, despite the fear growing within her.

Crowley was certainly talking like an insane person, from her point of view.

“It’s not confidence, it’s just facts, love. I saw it happen dozens of times…” Crowley casually tossed his long leg over the window ledge.

“W…wait!” Bethany reached for him as she shot out of bed.

“We’re four floors up! You’ll kill yourself!” She stood in front of him, her fear temporarily forgotten.

“Just leave through the front door. The boys don’t care…”

Crowley sighed and rubbed his temple. Why did he enter this poor human’s room? What was he thinking?

“I’ll be fine, just forget you ever saw me…” he started.

He lifted his hand, to Miracle every memory of him from Bethany’s brain.

But Beth was faster.

“Give me these back, then! You ungrateful…!”

Crowley jerked away, but she managed to snatch the hearts off his face.

“Wait…!” Crowley started, only to be drowned out by her screams.

“W…what the fuck? Your eyes!”

He could practically feel the goosebumps he watched spring up all over Bethany’s body. She stumbled back, until her mattress hit behind her knees.

“A…are those contacts?” She demanded, as she sat once more.

Crowley didn’t answer. He didn’t wink at her with his snake eyes, or give a teasing smirk.

He felt none of the mirth he used to feel, whenever he scared a mortal with his yellow gaze. He just felt an all too familiar gut punch.

Bethany was slowly backing up across her bed, her eyes wide and her breath too fast. Footsteps hurried across the apartment, followed by shouting.

Her manly roommates heard her scream and were on their way to save her. Smart girl, when it came to picking friends.

Mostly.

“I don’t know what this was….” Crowley threw his leg out the window once more.

He gave Beth’s big blue eyes one more sad look.

“But thank you. I needed it…”

“Get out.” Bethany whispered, right as one of the boys burst into the room.

With a wave of his hand, Crowley had wiped Beth’s brain clean of him. Well, as best he could, as he escaped out the window.

The college boys were greeted with a cloud of loose, black feathers and a gust of clove smoke scented wind.

Chapter Text

“I’m a tad confused. This seems like a brilliant idea.” Aziraphale confessed.

After fifteen minutes of searching through that damn key ring, he’d let himself into the door at the back of the storage room.

Now, he was sitting in a high back chair, at a console of buttons. Above this was a projected screen, stretched across the perfect, white wall.

What fascinated him, even more than the purpose of this setup, was the thick layer of dust that had settled on it all.

Dust didn’t exist in heaven, unless someone conjured it. This was likely a subconscious action, on Gabriel’s part.

It reminded him of cleaning his bookshop. Books loved holding onto their dust…

Aziraphale blew on the buttons. It caused the dust to fluff up in a cloud and, for some reason, activated the console.

“It was fun, starting out.” His aide admitted.

They’d followed him in and watched the buttons light up blue or gold.

“But guardian angels and free will were a bad mix, I’m afraid. The humans fought against it tooth and nail.”

They rolled their eyes and and pointed their clipboard at a pile of boxes labeled, “Failed Persuasions.”

“Even at their own detriment.”

“Well, free will is worth fighting for.” Aziraphale spoke under his breath, as he watched an image of Earth appear on the screen.

There it was. His beloved home for so long, floating listlessly in space.

The sight of it brought back more memories of pain.

Aziraphale had decided it was an unusual cruelty, to bring an earth bound angel back to heaven after so long.

The memory of sensations, without a body capable of feeling them, wasn’t something he’d wish on his greatest enemy.

“How does it work?” He asked, over his shoulder.

His assistant let out a impatient sigh and glanced at their watch.

“Sir, I don’t think we have time for me to explain the intricacies of a failed experiment…”

Aziraphale tensed up. He hated playing this card, but he hated the work he’d been doing for the past year even more.

“If the Supreme Archangel says we have time, who are you to question it?” He demanded, and gave the angel a stern look.

He took no joy in their frightened expression, or how their tone turned to stammering nervousness.

Gabriel must have been just awful to work for.

“Yes sir! My apologies, of course….um….” His aide set down their clipboard and hurried over to a white filing cabinet.

“Thank you.” Aziraphale’s voice became warm once more.

“Sorry…” he softly added.

The angel opened the lowest drawer of the cabinet and pulled out a big, heavy book.

Aziraphale watched them struggle to carry it over and drop it an empty section of the console.

“The instruction manual.” They huffed.

“Oh. Right…” Aziraphale reached over and halfheartedly thumbed the pages of the ridiculously large book.

“I do enjoy reading.”

“The gist of it, if you’ll excuse me….” The angel carefully leaned over their boss and started pressing buttons.

“…is that each Guardian was assigned their own human. To guide along the path of goodness and goodwill.”

“Well that’s wonderful…”

“All of the test subjects are in Hell now.” The angel finished, as they pushed the final button.

Aziraphale barely heard that last part, he was too busy staring at the horizontal flashing line that had appeared on the screen.

“All we had to do was picture the specific human we wanted to influence, type their name, and we could watch over them…”

“Only humans?” Aziraphale’s mind was already running a mile a second.

“Of course. Who else would we use it on?” His assistant asked, with a small laugh they quickly cut off.

“Quite right. Who indeed?” Aziraphale’s eyes darted from the buttons to that flashing line.

“Could you do me a favor, and make copies of uh…um…what did I do yesterday?” He spun around in the chair and spoke too fast.

“Soul dispersement?” The lesser angel took a step back and raised their eyebrow.

“Yes! That! There were so many, so I’ll need a copy of all the paperwork that entails, for my own records.”

He saw the angel’s feathers smooth down, like his own did when he was angry. But they managed to keep smiling.

“But, sir…that will take ages. Are you certain there isn’t something more productive…?”

“I’m not asking.” Aziraphale’s own smile fell, and he motioned towards the door with his eyes.

His assistant looked afraid again. They gave a small bow, then turned and hurried out of the room.

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale said out loud , but not until the door was closed behind them.

He listened, until their footsteps were too far away to hear, then spun his chair back to face the console.

His fingers hovered over the dusty keyboard, as he took a deep, shaky breath.

He recalled what he’d seen, the morning before, out his office window. With it’s close and clear view of earth.

He hadn’t meant to zoom in, where he did. The scene had appeared against his will.

A certain demon. All alone and buying several cases of the worst scotch he’d ever tasted. Oodles of it.

Something he drank when he didn’t care about quality, only getting drunk as fast as possible.

Crowley looked bad. Aziraphale didn’t think he’d ever seen him with a hair out of place, and certainly never in dirty clothes and flip flops.

But there he was. The only familiar part of his attire had been his sunglasses.

He wasn’t loading the liquor into the Bentley, but some stranger’s car who couldn’t even bother to get out and help him.

The sight was too much and Aziraphale hadn’t worked up the courage to look again.

Too much remembered agony. A distraction he couldn’t afford.

But these buttons.

“It probably won’t work, anyway…” he whispered and spelled out loud, as he typed.

“C,r,o,w…”

Chapter Text

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale sighed. He couldn’t cry, but he needed to.

He’d been watching over his previous companion for months now.

Sneaking away, far too often, from his tedious duties as the Supreme Archangel. To check on him, through his office window.

All of Gabriel’s messes had to be fixed, before Aziraphale could do anything of substance for Heaven’s plans. But he was terribly distracted and slowing things down.

His dear Crowley…

This time, Crowley was black out drunk, in the type of club Aziraphale had refused to ever step foot in, even when Crowley asked.

A waitress walked by and gathered his last few shot glasses, before moving on. Like he wasn’t even there.

Surrounded by people, but completely alone. It wasn’t fair, even for a demon. Especially this one.

The humans were in costumes. Dancing and ignoring the long, unconscious fellow all in black.

Aziraphale couldn’t blame them, really. Crowley blended in with darkness of the club, though the bartender had no trouble finding and serving him.

Every time one of the lights from the dance floor, passed him, Azirphale caught sight of that lovely red hair he’d grown so fond of.

Crowley had lost his sunglasses, it seemed. He’d hate that.

With a heavy heart, Aziraphale decided to do what he’d done the last time he found his friend like this.

He knew it was a bad idea. That what he was doing could catch up to him…but he couldn’t help it.

“But which one of you?” He whispered and squinted at the dancers.

He’d choose a human to “persuade” into helping his demon.

This had happened twice now. The first time Aziraphale gave in and tried it, he’d seen Crowley passed out in a back alley.

How he ended up there, he had no idea. But he refused to leave him that way.

A very nice school teacher, named Miriam, found Crowley as she passed.

An angelic voice in her head told her check the spooky alley, near her house.

She’d let Crowley sleep it off on her couch and even offered the grouch breakfast, which he refused.

The next time, a huge bouncer from a bar carried Crowley home with him.

His name was Willard and he was covered in tattoos. He’d been a bit rough, tossing the skinny demon into a spare bedroom, but it was better than sleeping in a dirty public restroom.

Now, someone needed to be kind enough to wake him and hopefully get him back to his own apartment.

Maybe, if Aziraphale could force Crowley home, he’d stay there for a while.

……

At first, no one in the club looked promising. Everyone was drunk themselves, and laughing foolishly or gyrating on one another.

Aziraphale didn’t judge them, he loved seeing humans having a good time. But all the costumes made it difficult to get an idea of anyone’s personality.

Until he saw her.

“Hello, my dear…” he muttered and used one of the buttons, next to the window, to zoom in on her.

A young, blond woman, sitting at a table with her friends. She was all in white, with a cute tinsel halo and fake angel wings.

Quietly and thoughtfully staring off, as she sipped water.

Aziraphale took her silly outfit as a sign, and did his best to read the other human’s lips, to figure out her name.

Once he did, he’d just send her a bit of his own concern for Crowley. Just enough that she’d want to help him home.

First, he’d have to get back in the Guardian room, without being spotted.

…….

“Oh come on, Bethany. You didn’t seem like an irresponsible plant parent…”

Crowley was sitting on the roof of Beth’s dorm, with his feet dangling off the edge.

His ebony wings were still out and he was glaring at the dead flowers, in the planter box outside her window.

With a frustrated sigh, he took a small black box from his pocket and removed an equally black cigarette from it.

He stuck this between his lips and struck Aziraphale’s lighter.

After touching the tip to the flame, Crowley blew a cloud of clove laced smoke up to the still dark sky, and considered moving out of the city.

It’d be easier to see his stars out there. He’d worked so hard on them…and the countryside had far fewer wonderful, and painful, memories to dwell on.

People would leave him alone. Alcohol would be more difficult to stowaway…though he knew he’d still manage it.

He also knew he’d never leave this place, and it was those same memories that kept him here.

Near that bookshop, but never close enough to go inside. Or even lay eyes on it.

Not since the one time he’d woken up on it’s doormat, after finding his way there in a drunken stupor.

It was the only place he’d ever felt safe and fully welcome, since falling from his Mother’s side.

Since learning that unconditional love didn’t exist, and he was born broken, by no fault of his own.

These were all things he’d rather forget, and that warm, dusty bookshop wouldn’t let him.

Still, he stayed nearby. In case his angel needed him.

In case he needed Crowley’s help, some day. Or…in case he just changed his mind.

……

“I’m tired.” Crowley spoke towards Beth’s window, but not loud enough to be heard.

That was one thing he hadn’t admitted to her, not even to a stranger. He was so tired.

Tired of chasing acceptance, while pretending he didn’t want it. Tired of loving and giving, only to be thrown away.

Tired of being surrounded by beings, but always alone. Except when he was with Aziraphale.

Crowley shifted his wings and flicked ash from the roof, as he watched the village below start waking up.

People coming outside in robes and hair rollers, to grab their newspapers. One lady chastised her dog, who barked at the dark figure on the roof, instead of walking.

Humans were specks of dust, floating by in Crowley’s constant existence. Even the history changing ones went away, and were eventually forgotten by everyone but him.

And most were terrified of him, the moment they learned his nature. Rightfully so, if he were any other demon.

So, he wasn’t angry with Bethany casting him out, over his eyes. It had opened old wounds, but he wasn’t angry.

Though he was upset over that kiss, it wasn’t her fault.

Crowley understood he was attractive, to a lot of mortals. He’d taken advantage of it, back when Hell expected more of him.

But, prior to tonight, the last lips he’d kissed were the only ones he wanted.

And while it had been devastating, he never wanted to forget how those lips tasted.

“But you are one of the “dear ones”.”

Crowley spoke towards Beth’s window again, complimenting her in the way Aziraphale would with his favorite mortals.

He made the decision to do something kind for her, in exchange for her listening to his lament.

He tossed his cigarette butt, and lifted his hand to summon life. This was a rare miracle for demons, but one he always had an easier time with.

With a wave of his long fingers, Crowley watched Bethany’s dead plants come back.

Better than before, flowering vines cascaded from her planter box. They stretched down all four floors, making her window the most beautiful on the entire street.

The blooms were yellow and white, and no scientist would be able to explain what kind of flower they were.

Crowley didn’t bother watching this happen. Instead he stood and folded his wings, with a heavy sigh.

His boots clipped on the concrete roof, as he walked to the middle of it and closed his eyes up towards the sky.

He stood there and half hoped Hell would catch wind of the kindness he’d just done, and drag him down for a verbal lashing.

Or maybe even another Holy Water bath.

But nothing happened. He was still alone.

No one in Heaven or Hell was paying him an ounce of attention. Crowley was finally, and completely, alone.

Chapter Text

Another issue Aziraphale had to discover, once he’d been back Upstairs for a while, was that ruminating was almost impossible to stop.

On Earth, whenever he was struck by the universe’s worst cognitive dissonance, his physical body had a bit of a built in “off switch”.

His mind would do it’s pretzel twists around God’s laws and their contradictions, which led to the most miserable headaches.

They were bad enough that he’d have to lay down in a dark room for a few hours, to reset.

Once this was done, he’d get up, have a nice cup of tea, and hop right back into forced contentment within God’s ineffableness.

But in Heaven, they took away his body. No body, no off switch.

He wasn’t struggling with God’s confusing plans this time, however.

…….

She kissed him!

“Oh, of course she did!” Aziraphale was angrily pacing his blank office and having an intense internal monologue.

“What mortal is supposed resist…all THAT, coming on to them?” He asked himself and flung his hand at the closed curtains.

Aziraphale tried his best to avoid watching Crowley, once he was positive he was getting help.

He was sure he wouldn’t appreciate knowing how much his life was being influenced, let alone being spied on.

But he’d just needed to know if the Not an Angel human had managed to get that stubborn demon home or not.

Aziraphale had opened the curtains at the worst possible moment. Then, he snapped them closed, just as Crowley let that girl’s lips touch his own….

The entire thing took less than a second to witness, but it sent him spiraling.

……

“It’s because his stupid clothes and that…that…HAIR!”

Aziraphale froze mid pace and just stood with his fists clenched, picturing everything about Crowley that made him so enticing.

To weak willed mortals, anyway. Of course.

The way he walked, like his hips were a broken clock pendulum. How he effortlessly stepped into whatever fashion had taken over the latest century they were in.

Funny and wickedly intelligent. He smelled like clove, tobacco and the slightest hint of Hell’s sulfur.

That last scent was one he tried to cover up with expensive soaps and cologne, but Aziraphale found comfort in it these last hundred years.

While it was once just the mark of the opposition, he’d grown to associate it with acceptance and home.

A fragile association he regretted ever making.

Because Crowley was still a demon. Temptation personified.

Personified, and mastered, after all his time on Earth.

Aziraphale let his guard down and forgot that far too often. Which was clearly all a part of Crowley’s plan.

A plan that worked so well that Aziraphale felt guilt, even now, for thinking such things of his “friend.”

Walking temptation. The opposite of himself in every way.

Aziraphale was just soft and nice to a fault. Soft wasn’t impressive. Nice was easy, when you were on the side of the Creator.

Allowed on Her side, even if She stopped speaking to you. Being an Angel was simple, if you just shut up and went along with it all.

But Aziraphale knew, deep down, that he was a lousy angel. And Crowley picked up on it immediately, that day on Eden’s wall.

It’s what made him such any easy target for the wily serpent’s long game schemes.

Why else would he have…kissed him, as easily as he was kissing that human right now?

Just to lead him astray. Away from his destiny as Archangel, and bringing on the Second Coming.

Did he really think that Crowley, a demon, loved him?

Enough to be that vulnerable, with no wicked ulterior motive? What a foolish, idiotic thought.

……

Aziraphale sat at his desk and laid his head in his arms. He’d give anything for a headache and a nap right now.

He was gripping his stiff sleeves and his feathers were fluffed up. He couldn’t begin to calm down and he hated thinking this way.

Aziraphale was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn’t a being who thought himself desirable.

But for that brief, aching moment. Before he came to his senses….

“I forgive you.” He’d said

That wall he always put up. Forgiveness washed his hands of other people’s actions, so he could stop thinking about them.

The last wall he’d put up between himself and…

His endless thoughts were finally interrupted by a loud rap at his office door.

Aziraphale’s head shot up, as yet another angel walked in. They were blathering away about whatever paperwork was in their hands.

With renewed enthusiasm, Aziraphale greeted them with a smile and threw himself into whatever they were talking about.

He had to remember why he agreed to take this job, even though Crowley was a lying trickster.

Because love was real, even if it was directed at the wrong person. And Aziraphale would do anything to keep that trickster safe.

For as long as he was able.

Chapter Text

“He just jumped out the window. And she’s been babbling ever since…”

“I am not babbling!”

Bethany angrily looked up at the nurse, as one of her roommates accused her of losing her mind, once again.

“I know what I remember! It’s just…in pieces. But I remember…”

“….that a demon flew in your window?” The nurse finished her sentence with a frustrated sigh.

“How much were you kids drinking last night?” She asked the young man and glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Bethany didn’t drink. I think the tall guy drugged her…”

“Stop speaking for me, Atticus!” Beth lashed out at her roommate, who promptly zipped his lips.

“He flew OUT of a four story window. We all saw it, and he didn’t hit the ground…”

She tried to sound calm, as she addressed the nurse once more.

“He had black wings…look!” Bethany snatched her purse from next to her and dug through it.

She found what she was looking for and held up a long, black feather, like the proof it was.

“These are all over my room! He…he said his name was…”

Bethany paused, realizing what she was about to say, and let her arm fall as her shoulders slumped. The ebony feather fell to the floor.

“….Anthony.”

The exhausted nurse flashed an annoyed look at Atticus, who could only shrug in return.

She was used to wackos coming in at midnight or so, but six in the morning was new.

“A demon, named Anthony. Goodness.” She spoke sarcastically and motioned for Atticus to step out of the room.

…….

“I’m not taking a damn drug test!” Bethany stormed out of the doctors’s front doors, with Atticus trailing behind her.

“They’re just checking all the boxes!” He called after her as he jogged to catch up.

“You’re not yourself, Bethany! I’m worried!”

Atticus accidentally shoulder checked another man, who shouted at his back as he chased after his friend.

“We should call your parents…!”

“I am not crazy! You just wont listen!” Beth spun around and yelled at him, with tears flowing down her cheeks.

The two of them stared one another down, breathing hard and gradually realizing everyone on the street was looking at them.

“Ok…ok.” Atticus ran his hands through his shoulder length brown hair and sighed.

“I’ll listen. I’m listening, let’s get a coffee and you can tell me everything.”

The look of relief of Beth’s pretty face made him feel like a hero…which, in turn, made him feel stupid.

…..

“It was going on about this angel that gave away a sword. How impressed It was…I remember that part.”

“It?” Atticus stirred sugar into his coffee, with no intention of drinking it.

“Yes. The Demon, “It”.” Beth nodded.

“Then something about “blowing up a halo”…and a sweet little bookshop…”

She let out a heavy sigh and looked exhausted.

“Everything It said didn’t sound crazy when it was talking. It was just so sad…or pretending to be sad.”

Atticus could only give what he hoped was a comforting smile. It wasn’t.

“It called itself a demon. I’m not crazy…”

Bethany hadn’t ordered anything and was hugging herself. Still in her sleeveless white pajamas, she looked particularly vulnerable.

Atticus wished he had a jacket to take off and give her. Like men always did in movies and books.

“Well, do you remember anything else?” He pushed.

Bethany paused and thought, before answering.

“Something made me go talk to It last night.” She insisted.

“A voice in my head. I’d never approach a drunk man in a club like that…”

“That did seem out of character.” Atticus agreed.

“What uh…what did the voice say?”

“Get him home.” Bethany quoted and let her face fall into her hands.

“It made me feel like hugging…”Anthony”. Like I needed to protect It.”

She looked angry suddenly, her gaze intense and her brow furrowed.

“I don’t appreciate being forced to feel things.” She explained.

“And then…ugh, I kissed It.”

Atticus’s eyes widened and he looked hurt. The drunk guy in their apartment had been quite handsome.

“You…you kissed him?”

“It!” Bethany spat and wiped her mouth with back of her hand.

“I don’t know what I was thinking. And it’s lips were icy…that wasn’t a human, Atticus!”

“Ok! Ok, say I believe you…?” Atticus panicked as she aggressively stood and hung her purse over her shoulder.

“Now what? What can you do about it? That guy is long gone…”

“I’m getting dressed and taking my laptop to the school library.” She explained.

“I need to do some research. It mentioned other names and…dammit, I should have written them down.”

She opened her bag and took out a pen and small notebook as she said this.

“Asirafell. Gabriel. Bees…Beezbub?” Beth muttered as she wrote.

“Beezlebub?” Atticus asked.

“Maybe?” Bethany looked up from her writing and raised her eyebrow at him.

“You’ve heard it before?”

Atticus was drawn in by the hope in her big, blue eyes and went against his instincts.

“That’s the name of a demon.” He begrudgingly admitted, and took out his wallet to pay for his coffee.

“A pretty important one, depending on who you ask.”

Beth’s eyes were even wider.

“How do you know who to ask?”

“My grandmother is, unfortunately, deeply and insanely Catholic.” Atticus led the way out of the coffee shop and towards their college.

“We’re not asking her, but I know what books to look for…and we won’t find them at the school library. ”

……

“They won’t react the way you’re imagining.” Aziraphale addressed Michael.

His large, white desk was lifted, so he had to look down on whomever sat across from him.

It wasn’t in his nature to enjoy this at all, typically.

However, in the case of Archangel Michael, who gleefully filled that bathtub with holy water, he made an exception.

“Fire and brimstone falling from the sky would frighten anyone, especially humans.” Michael sat up as straight possible as they argued.

“And it’s written…”

“Humans do worse to one another every day. They’ll think it’s another bomb and turn off the television…”

Aziraphale sighed a bit sadly. He loved Earth, but when humans with power chose to be cruel, they out did Hell every time.

“The only way you’ll get any attention on Christ is if He’s televised. And if everyone near Him had a phone in their hands.”

“Televised doing what?” Micheal crossed their arms and legs, looking very put out.

“As a politician. Or a world leader, telling them to love one another.” Aziraphale replied.

“To be charitable and self sacrificing, His whole spiel from the last time He was down there.”

He twirled a quill in his fingers and tried to look like he was giving this any thought.

“Drop Him in America, that’ll put all eyes on Him immediately. Especially if we make Him president.”

Aziraphale leaned on his desk and was unable to hold back the wave of depression he’d managed to keep at bay.

“That’ll piss them all off. Especially the ones with real influence. They’ll sic anyone destined for Hell on Him right away, and they won’t be difficult to spot.”

“Piss them off?” Michael scoffed.

“Ah, that’s a human expression. One I’ve actually never used…” Aziraphale was surprised at himself.

“It means they’ll be angry with Christ. Which I imagine you want, with the Second Coming and all…”

“What “we” want, correct?” Michael carefully watched Aziraphale’s face.

Aziraphale managed to keep his cool and nodded.

“Of course. Dare I say, I want it more than anyone…”

“You spent too much time down there.” Michael interrupted him.

They stood suddenly, their fists clenched at their sides.

“I can’t imagine what the Metatron was thinking, appointing you of all people!”

They jabbed their finger at Aziraphale, who just rolled his eyes. He was used to the outbursts by now.

“After the stunt you pulled with the Apocalypse! Millions of years of planning, wasted!”

“Lower your voice.” Aziraphale matched their anger with calm, quiet sarcasm.

“If you have questions, you’re free to bring it up with the Metatron. He is a bit busy, running all my ideas by God Herself, but I’m sure he’d spare you a moment…”

He leaned forward and smiled at Micheal’s dagger filled glare.

“But we all know where asking too many questions leads to, don’t we?”

Micheal looked away at this and closed their eyes, took a deep calming breath, and smiled back at him.

“Maybe I should go down and ask Crowley about it?” They asked.

“He’d know better than anyone, eh?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes again and made a shooing motion towards his door.

“He made his choices. Now get out of here and do something productive…like fixing all of Gabriel’s mistakes you stood by and watched happen.”

He watched Micheal stiffen at that, before turning on their heel and leaving without a goodbye.

Once they were gone, Aziraphale slumped down in his chair and tried not to scream.

He loved everyone, but he hated these people. Hated this place, hated this job.

He wanted his books and his soft, old clothes. He wanted to listen to real music, not the elevator hymns they played here.

If only Crowley had come with him. In the very least, they’d have had one another to complain to.

And they’d both be safe, from whatever The Second Coming turned out to be. Crowley would be safe….

“Have you really been to Earth?”

The sweet, tiny voice would have made Aziraphale jump out of his socks, had he been wearing any.

Chapter Text

“Hello, little one. How on Earth did you get in here?” Aziraphale managed to speak kindly, to the small figure that appeared to his left.

“How on Earth? But we’re in Heaven.” The figure replied.

This new, tiny angel had the sweetest voice, but a voice that carried weight you could feel. It’d be unnerving, if Aziraphale hadn’t experienced so many odd things in his life.

“Yes, I have a bad habit of repeating Earth…sayings. Um…so, how in Heaven did you get in here?” Aziraphale stood from his chair, as he corrected himself.

The angel had the form of a small girl child, no older than seven. They had long black hair and big, even blacker eyes.

“Gabriel gave me free reign of the place. He liked having me around, but don’t tell him I told you.” The angel shrugged.

Aziraphale realized they didn’t have pupils, but rather their eyes held numerous white specks, deep within.

Like the far away galaxies he’d seen from Earth. As if their eyes were the night sky through a ship’s porthole.

“My name is Evangeline.” The angel went on.

Aziraphale stood up straighter at that and put his hand to his chest.

“And you’re Aziraphale. You’ve replaced Gabriel.”

The child sighed and walked over to his window, to fiddle with the curtain cord.

“That’s right….” Aziraphale had several moments of shock, before coming to terms with who he was speaking with.

Evangeline was a name he’d heard often, especially right after the fall of so many angels. She was the last of the Watchers left in Heaven.

“Are you nicer than Gabriel?” Evangeline asked.

“Yes.” Aziraphale admitted, without an ounce of pride.

“At least the version you knew. As it turns out, he’s a bit of a sweetheart.”

“He wasn’t always unkind, when I knew him.” Evangeline lifted the curtain and peeked underneath at the Earth below.

“He had hope, at one point. The pressure of his position made him cruel. That war made everyone so hateful or disconnected.”

She stared up at him without blinking. Azirphale could have sworn he saw a comet flash by, in the darkness of her right eye.

“I hope you don’t become cruel. I know remaining kind is going to be the biggest struggle, but I hope you stick with it.”

Hearing such things, from something that looked like a human child, was odd. But this being was older than time, just like himself, so Aziraphale adjusted quickly.

“Kindness is my go to. So, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” His tone was self deprecating, which The Watcher picked up on.

“It’s not your default.” She assured him.

“If it were any of our default, none of us would have fallen. And it would be easy.”

Aziraphale wanted to argue, but it felt dire that he make a good first impression with the Last Watcher, of all creatures.

“Even up here, kindness is a choice.” Evangeline went on.

“To choose it over everything else is one of the hardest things to do, in the face of adversity.”

She shrugged, a very human gesture.

“It’s much easier to crush others beneath your feet, when handed the power you’ve been given.”

She looked towards the door that Michael had just left through.

“Especially when they deserve it.”

This conversation was making Aziraphale nervous.

Had The Watcher caught his tiny moment of glee, over having a life long bully forced to look up at him, for once?

“S...so, Miss, um…?” he decided to steer the subject away from himself.

“You may call me Eva.” Evangeline smirked, but she was merciful and allowed the subject change.

“Eva, thank you. I understand you’ve been to Earth as well, correct?”

“Not in a long time.” Evangeline pouted and crossed her arms, looking even more childlike.

“Gabriel said I was scaring the humans too much. And touching too many things…”

……

“Oh, who put this on?” Crowley shouted into the mostly full pub, but received no answer.

The purple jukebox in the corner was playing ‘Angel’, by an American band called Aerosmith.

“You know, the only good thing Steven Tyler ever lended to this world, was his contribution to “The Lord of the Rings”.” He drunkenly notified the bartender.

“Their music is alright.” The man behind the bar shrugged as he poured him another shot.

“No, it’s ‘thupid.” Crowley slurred and drank the shot like it was water.

He heard the click of coins falling into the jukebox, and sighed with relief.

Johnny Cash’s “The Angel and the Badman” started playing.

“Fffffuck you.” Crowley growled and snapped his fingers over his head.

The record skidded to a halt, before Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls” blared from the speakers.

Crowley ignored the bartender’s confused look and slid off his seat to saunter over to the nearest, pretty warm body he saw.

“Dance with me. I’m really good at it.” He ordered one of five women at the table.

Shockingly, this approach always worked for him.

“Did you change the jukebox just now?” The lovely redhead asked, her grin a bit too eager.

“If I say yes, will you dance with me?” Crowley pushed his new glasses up and was about to leave.

What the hell was he doing? Besides being a moron?

“Is your name Anthony, by chance?” The red head and her friends leaned closer.

“No, it’s Cr…I mean…yes?” Crowley’s head snapped back and he took in all the eyes on him.

They were four gorgeous young women, and one older, rather plain, woman that sat between them.

All were smiling. The red head was reaching for his arm. The scent of wet ash suddenly became so obvious, he didn’t know how he’d missed it.

Crowley yanked away and looked down at their bare arms, shown off in those slinky dresses.

He saw what he was looking for. Black tattoos, each mark was simple and different…and he, unfortunately, knew what they each meant.

Witches. Something he’d hoped to never deal with ever again.

Witches. And he’d almost given them his true name, like an idiot.

“See ya, ladies!” He sobered up quickly and pushed off the table, attempting to look as calm and casual as possible as he walked away.

He cursed God for giving him a heart, because it was about to race out of his chest.

The witches’ smiles didn’t fade. Instead, they hopped on their cellphones to announce, to a certain someone, what they’d just witnessed.

Chapter Text

“You’ve actually…ingested things?”

The Watcher Evangeline was almost cute, with her curious, wide eyed expression. Aziraphale couldn’t get past the black, endlessness of those eyes, however.

“Yes, I’ve eaten human food.” He replied, already tired of answering this question.

The two of them were sitting on his office floor, underneath the massive window.

“I know it’s considered taboo, but I was down there for so long and, well…when in Rome.”

Aziraphale let his head fall back on the wall and waved his hand as he quoted, yet another, human saying as his excuse.

There was a pause.

“Yes?” Evangeline finally asked.

“Yes what?” Aziraphale gave her a sideways glance.

“What do you do when you’re in Rome? You didn’t finish your sentence.”

Aziraphale laughed, for the first time in a year. It went on for a tad too long, as he allowed himself to enjoy it.

“When in Rome, you do as the Romans do.” He chuckled. He had to resist laughing again at Eva’s confused look.

“Who are the Romans? What do they do in Rome?” She sounded impatient.

Aziraphale leaned forward and rubbed his face, still trying not to laugh.

“They eat maritozzi, and so many interesting things.”

“Like what?” Eva pressed.

Aziraphale had a flash of a long ago memory. Crowley’s first, successful, temptation against him.

Food, of all the pleasures he could have come at him with. Alcohol followed not long after.

He’d wanted a drink since before he stepped into that damned elevator.

“I thought you said you’ve been to Earth? You’ve never heard of the Roman Empire?” He asked.

“That’s not the type of thing you discuss in hospital rooms.” Eva shook her head.

“Huh, I suppose you’re right. But, of everything to see…what were you doing in hospitals?”

“Watching.” The Watcher simply replied.

“Right. Of course…” Azirphale hoped she’d go into detail.

This was the most interesting conversation he’d had up here, since learning about the failed Guardian Angels.

“When modern medicine became what it is, I was sent to learn about prolonged grief.” Eva went on.

“To take notes, for God knows who to read…and to make sure the confused souls go in the right direction.”

She fiddled with her white robe and pouted some more.

“But the dying would see me. I’d stand there in the corner, just doing my job, and they’d think I was Death, come for them. ” She huffed.

“It became disheartening after a while.”

“I can imagine.” Aziraphale sympathized.

“What happened, if you don’t mind recalling it?”

“Lots of shouting and begging. Their families thought they were seeing ghosts, or just losing their minds in their last moments.”

“Oh dear.” Aziraphale resisted patting her shoulder.

Angels rarely touched one another, as an unspoken rule.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’ve actually met Death, briefly.” He notified her.

“You don’t resemble him in the slightest, thank the lord…”

“No matter what I looked like, I terrified them.” Eva interrupted.

“Except, I had some success if I took the form of their loved ones, who died before them…”

With a heavy sigh, she fell back against the wall as well.

“But then, they had too many questions I couldn’t answer. And their asking frightened the families even more.”

“I can imagine it did.” Aziraphale reluctantly admitted.

“Finally, I figured out that, looking this way…” Eva motioned at her child form.

“…received the calmest reaction. But Gabriel still said I was interfering too much…too many bothered souls, who were meant to pass on peacefully.”

“I’m surprised he cared.” Aziraphale muttered under his breath.

They sat in silence for a few, long moments.

“Have you ever had hospital food?” Eva asked him.

“Bleh, no.” Aziraphale shivered.

“I’m not picky, per say, but…well, if you’re going to be taboo, you may as well have standards…”

“When humans are sick or grieving, they tend not to eat.” Eva interrupted.

“I saw it sitting on trays, for hours. Mostly sandwiches and some fun looking thing called Jello.”

Aziraphale made another, almost silent, “bleh” sound.

“But then…” Eva made a throwing away motion.

“…straight in the bin. They’d never miss it, but I couldn’t even have a nibble.”

“That’s for the best.” Aziraphale forced the words out.

“Things humans enjoy aren’t meant for us. They make us…weak.”

“So you regret being “taboo”?” Evangeline didn’t sound judgmental, only curious.

“Yes.” Aziraphale replied, without elaborating.

He’d never admit how much he regretted falling in love with Earth. Tried not dwell on it.

“But, since God is merciful, I’ve been given a second chance to fix that mistake. And I won’t squander it.”

“You must be very special, to receive such mercy from Her.” Evangeline looked down at her hands, remembering terrible things.

“I never saw that kind of mercy in those hospitals.”

Aziraphale shrank down at her words and recalled how it felt to be nauseous.

“I’m not special.” He assured her.

Evangeline stood up at that, and opened the curtains that covered the enormous window.

“Before we destroy it, do you think you’d want to go back one day? At least once?”

…….

“So, you’re Mr.Ezra Fell? Can you spell that?”

The cashier looked down her glasses at Aziraphale’s golden credit card, before glaring over them at Crowley.

“Yes yes, I left my I.D. at home.” Crowley wasn’t looking at her, instead he kept looking over his shoulder.

“Run it as a debit, if you’re so worried. Just hurry up about it.”

He felt no guilt over taking that card from Aziraphale’s shop. It was technically heaven’s money, and their pockets were bottomless.

“Hmph.” The cashier was a strict, older woman and didn’t believe a word out of his mouth.

Still, she tapped on her touch screen, ran the card and handed him the pin pad.

“You almost bought my entire stock of sunglasses. Do you know how irritating that is?” She asked.

“Why? You got your money.” Crowley scoffed as he typed “0777”, and let out a harsh hiss.

Aziraphale’s PIN number always scorched his fingers. His teeth gritted like he’d had a cigarette put out on him.

The cashier raised her eyebrow, when the numbers were approved, and handed Crowley his bags of clothes and sunglasses.

Crowley snatched them with one hand, and pulled his new, rolling suitcase behind him as he fled the store.

……

“Come on, baby, you can’t hate me forever!” His thoughts shouted out to his Bentley.

“We’ve got witches! Remember the last time we had witches?”

He stood on the sidewalk and waited, tapping his foot and looking for any sign of those women from the pub.

People nearly ran into him, as they walked to and fro. It was broad daylight, so not even a witch would try anything…

“You!” A familiar voice came from nearby.

Somehow, Crowley knew it was directed at him. He looked across the way and saw a pretty, blonde girl.

She was dressed all in black and pointing at him. Her expression was livid.

Crowley risked it and lowered his sunglasses, to see her clearly.

“Bethany?”

It was certainly the young woman from weeks ago. She’d been present in Crowley’s moment of weakness, and he’d hoped to never see her again.

Yet here she came, with another human following close behind and trying to slow her down.

A young, handsome man with chin length brown hair. He was carrying a large, black book under his arm.

A book Crowley could smell before he saw it. Wet ash and heat.

“Fuck.” Crowley pushed his glasses back up, and motioned for a taxi.

None were stopping. Bethany and that man were weaving through traffic, closing in…

“Anthony J. Crowley!” Bethany spoke his name and Crowley felt a jerk in his chest.

As if rope were attached to him, and she’d pulled it.

“Not again…” Crowley’s thoughts were interrupted by a large, dark mass stopping in front of him following the screech of rubber on asphalt.

“Darling!” Crowley felt that invisible rope fall away, like his Bentley had cut through it.

His beautiful car. She was back.

It threw it’s driver’s side door open and locked all the others. Bethany would have been run over, had her guy friend not pulled her back.

“I know this doesn’t mean I’m forgiven!” Crowley assured his car, and threw in his bags, before climbing behind the wheel.

The Bentley didn’t hesitate to zoom away, leaving the two humans in the dust.

…….

“That was definitely him.” Atticus admitted.

“Those women were right.”

Bethany was fuming and pacing on the sidewalk.

“I had him! I felt it!” She glared down at her hand and remembered the hold she’d had on the demon.

“We have to call them again.” She stopped pacing and turned to Atticus, who held in a loud groan.

“Please, Beth, can we not? It’s bad enough witches are real, but they keep stealing my hair.” He ran his hand through his lovely locks.

“What are they doing with it? And what if Sheila wants the book back before you’re ready to give it up?”

He held the black book out towards her and wished he could put it down somewhere.

“Or just let It go. It didn’t look like It was bothering anyone. I mean, what would you do if you caught a demon, anyway?”

Bethany wasn’t listening, she was too busy making a phone call.

Chapter Text

“The ethereal one is no longer on Earth, so the Demon Crowley is vulnerable.”

Bethany was sitting at a cafe, watching the group of witches eat brunch. Their leader, Sheila, was explaining the situation, like she was reciting a cookie recipe.

“The ethereal one?” Bethany asked, resisting the urge to pull up the hood of her black sweatshirt.

She almost felt the most under dressed, compared to the majority of the women she sat with, if it weren’t for Sheila.

While her minions were almost ethereal themselves, Sheila looked as if she’d rolled out of bed…pajama pants included.

“Yes. That one is untouchable, so we don’t know much about it.” Sheila yawned and took a bite of a pancake.

”Only that it looks like a pretty blonde man, it owns land and a shop, and it’s incredibly protective of our target.”

“Well, it WAS protective of Crowley.” The witch with red hair giggled.

“Now that he’s all alone, this will be easy…”

“Deidra, go get me a refill.” Sheila shoved her empty mimosa glass at her. Deidra immediately looked afraid.

“But our waitress is right there…”

“Did I ask where our waitress is?”

The air around the table became heavy, though Sheila hadn’t even looked up from her meal.

Bethany looked between the two women in confusion, while the rest of the witches kept their eyes on the table.

Deidra took the glass and hurried to the bar as fast as she could in heels.

Sheila yawned again and stretched, before scratching her bun of messy, thick, brown hair.

“Sorry. Deidra is our newest member, after you. She forgets herself.”

“Right…”

Bethany’s therapist mind was racing, with the toxic psychological dynamics of this group, but she’d already decided her path.

“Crowley is older than time. I know It looks like a wannabe beatnik with daddy’s credit card, but It could kill us all, if it weren’t for me.”

Sheila didn’t look smug about this, she simply stated it as another fact.

“To underestimate a Demon is to die. I’ve seen it happen to stupid witches who went after weaker ones than this.”

She smiled at Bethany, who felt even more uncomfortable.

“But you claim you lassoed Crowley, briefly?”

“Uh, yes. I just did what you said…” Bethany admitted.

“I said It’s true name and I caught it. But I couldn’t hold on…”

“That seems incredibly unlikely.” Sheila sat back and crossed her arms.

The rest of the group shared nervous looks.

“Why would I lie?” Bethany scoffed, still not as nearly afraid as she should have been.

“I’m wondering that myself.” Sheila admitted.

She took her mimosa from Deidra, who handed it over and sat at the table with her head down.

“The last time I interacted with this specific Demon, I ended up in a coma for a month. I don’t even know what it did…”

Sheila drank her mimosa in one, long gulp, and sat her glass down too hard.

“You’re lying, or you’ve been holding out on us, young lady.” She accused Beth.

“No! No, I swear! I don’t understand any of this and I don’t know how I managed…” Bethany stammered as she defended herself.

“The only way you’d get that kind of power over a demon that quickly, is if you held a piece of It.” Sheila explained.

“A piece of Crowley?” Bethany asked. The other witches whispered among themselves.

“Yes, whether it’s a scale or a tooth. Even a toenail, though I don’t know how you manage any of that…they don’t even lose hair, in their Earthly forms.” Sheila mused.

“So, what is it that you have? And how did you acquire it?” She demanded.

Bethany was truly clueless for a long moment, before her eyes widened.

“Oh yeah, I DO have something!” She remembered and whipped around to grab her purse off her chair.

She set the purse in her lap and dug through it, until she found her prize.

Everyone at the table gasped so loudly, people in the restaurant turned to look.

They all saw Bethany, holding up several long, black feathers.

They’d been a bit crushed in her bag, and weren’t nearly as sleek as before. But the witches were no less mesmerized.

“Oh, Crowley will be helpless.” Sheila whispered, her hand trembling as she reached for the feathers.

This statement made Bethany’s stomach clench a bit, but she handed them over with little hesitation.

……

“I’m sorry for taking it out on you. I’m sorry for what I said. You’re not a useless, out of date clunker. You’ll always be in style and…I’m sorry he’s gone.”

Crowley pet the Bentley’s steering wheel, before resting his forehead on it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get him to stay. And now you’re just stuck with me…”

The Bentley started playing a heartbreaking song on it’s radio.

“Please don’t do that.” Crowley groaned and shut it off.

“I know how you feel, ok? Trust me.”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the head rest.

“We have to hide for a while, love. I forgot about those damn witches…”

Crowley took his sunglasses off and threw them in the passenger seat. He looked in the rear view mirror, to see the case of vodka he’d purchased the day of his and his car’s fight.

Next to it were two red fire extinguishers, he’d stolen out of habit.

Aziraphale was so worried for his books, after that fire took them all out.

Even after the Adam boy put his shop back, good as new, the angel only allowed battery powered candles inside.

He’d started compulsively collecting the extinguishers, and Crowley would snatch any he came across to give him.

Aziraphale loved this, but he would have hated knowing they’d been stolen…

Crowley felt a sob catch in his throat at the memory. He wished demons were as evil as their reputation claimed.

That way, he wouldn’t feel any of this.

“Let’s go to the woods and I’ll nap for a few weeks. After that, I’ll figure out how to get you to America with me.” He told the Bentley.

“With Azirphale gone, I can’t risk staying here anymore. It’s going to suck, but I’m not as well known in America…way less witches too.”

The Bentley started itself and drove without his help, as it had done for a year now.

Neither of them would make it to America, but it wasn’t aware of that. It only worried about driving on the wrong side of the road there.

Chapter Text

“I suppose it’s a bit of a relief, not having that old thing to lug around.” Aziraphale was explaining the downsides of having a body.

“They’re cumbersome, really. I'd forgotten how pleasant it is to simply …exist, up here.” He hovered his hand over his desk.

“Weightless. No pain…no nothing. God knew what she was doing when She…”

“You “suppose” it’s a relief?” Evangeline asked, from her place at the window.

He’d only known her for a couple of weeks, but she already knew when he meant more than he said.

“Well, to be honest…” Aziraphale rested his chin on his hand and pondered how open he should be.

For all he knew, Evangeline could be the Metatron’s spy. To keep an eye on him, lest he fall to his old ways.

But, if he couldn’t say what he was feeling to even a single, living creature, he’d lose his mind. More than he already was.

“…it’s maddening.” His voice softly risked the truth.

“I can tell.” Evangeline fluttered her wings and settled to sit on his desk.

He watched her kick her hanging legs and hum a song he didn’t recognize.

“How can you tell?” He asked, unsure if he wanted the answer.

“You stare off a lot.” Eva replied.

“A lot, a lot.” She added and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Do I? Oh dear…” Aziraphale tried to recall doing this.

He couldn’t recall much in recent days, outside of the occasional interactions with his underlings.

The rest was just a lot of white…

“You stared at that wall for three hours, yesterday.” Eva notified him and pointed across the way.

That explained all the white.

“Are you remembering things, when you do that? Your time on Earth?”

Aziraphale shook his head, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“I bet you are. It’s so colorful down there, and interesting.” Evangeline closed her dark eyes and remembered her own experiences.

“Even where humans die is more vibrant than anything up here…”

“I avoid remembering.” Aziraphale admitted. He clasped his hands and nervously tapped them on the desk.

“Because I need to feel…” he touched his chest.

“…in order to understand what I’m feeling, about the things I may remember. Does that make sense?”

He looked over and hoped she understood. His next words came out too fast.

“It’s as if, I know where sensations are supposed to be…what I’m supposed to feel. But I can’t! And I need to!”

He ran his hands through his, uncharacteristically coifed, hair and looked a bit mad. Evangeline perked up at this display of sincerity.

“Otherwise, my mind goes in circles and I have no way of stopping it. It was never like that, before they sent me to Earth…” Aziraphale kept letting the words spill out.

Evangeline just nodded, like it was the simplest matter.

“What exactly do you need to understand your feelings about? Maybe remembering, and talking it through, would help?”

A flash of the last time he’d seen Crowley, kissing a human in her pink bed.

But that wasn’t even the worst of it. It was the plans the other angels were going on about, like he should be proud of them.

The aftermath of the Second Coming wasn’t any better than Armageddon. And he still didn’t understand why either was supposed to happen.

And Aziraphale wasn’t allowed to ask questions. He fought to make his mind go blank.

“You’re staring off again.” Evangeline spoke gently, pulling him out of it.

He winced at her words and started to ask how long it had gone on this time.

“I understand the rules up here, as much as you do.” Evangeline assured him.

“So, I’ll just say that what you’re experiencing makes sense and you’re not crazy.” She reached over to pat the desk, next to his arm.

Aziraphale was having an easier time looking at her endless eyes. They were still unnerving, but he spotted a lovely nebula within them, this time.

“I’m so sorry you have to deal with it all. And I wish I could help you.” Evangeline finished.

Azirphale sighed with relief. Such kindness should have been more common in Heaven, of all places.

“You help immensely. I understand why Gabriel enjoyed your company.” Aziraphale gave her a genuine smile, before his brow furrowed.

“Though, now that I think about it, it’s a bit worrisome that you just sit and watch me stare off for “hours.”

“Watching is what I do.” Evangeline giggled, before the sound of a doorknob turning startled them both.

Evangeline looked afraid, a surprising thing for such a creature.

Aziraphale understood her though. The only people who came in The Supreme Archangel’s office, without knocking, were herself and the Metatron.

…….

“Ugh, look at you. Blah. Blaaaaah…” Crowley was bullying his reflection in a dirty truck stop mirror.

He’d always Miracled his fashionable clothes and accessories into existence. Since Aziraphale left, however, he’d stopped doing so completely.

He made this decision for two reasons.

One, he just didn’t feel like being stylish as much anymore. Two, without Aziraphale, he was more vulnerable than he’d ever been.

Not only against Heaven and Hell, but now he had witches on his trail.

He couldn’t risk being tracked by his Miracles, so he’d been forced to actually shop. At first, he’d bought the coolest clothes he could find…but on his last trip.

“What the fuck is a pooh bear?” He pushed his sunglasses on his head, to better stare at the pantless fellow on his shirt.

He’d been in a hurry and grabbed as many black shirts, in his size, that he saw. His dark glasses screwed that up, however.

The Pooh shirt was actually navy blue and clashed with his dirty, black jeans.

He knew he could change into something more fitting his reputation, but why bother? He gave up.

“It’s just you and me, Winnie.” He muttered and threw his last shirt in a bag.

…..

Crowley had been dead to the world for three weeks now, just sleeping away in his Bentley. It got dusty in there.

When he woke up, he couldn’t help but step out of the car and press his hand to the mossy forest floor.

He didn’t find what he was hoping for, so he decided to get drunk again, before heading to America.

When Aziraphale left for Upstairs, Crowley felt him disappear.

The two of them were always aware of one another, regardless of where they were on the planet.

If one touched the earth, the other knew about it immediately.

This feeling had become a background comfort that Crowley hardly noticed anymore.

Until it was gone.

Now, he was drinking hot vodka, straight from the bottle. Sitting on another bathroom floor, trying to resist changing the color of his shirt.

Drunk stupidity decided his fate, yet again.

“You can stay, but I’m not wearing navy blue anything…” he told Pooh and snapped his fingers.

The moment the shirt darkened, Crowley felt a tightening around his chest.

“What the fu…?!” He tried to curse and stand up, but the tight feeling worsened and he was yanked forward.

Crowley hit the filthy floor hard, with his cheek smashed against the tile.

His glasses snapped on impact and his back suddenly felt like an elephant was standing on it.

His arms and legs were bent in unbearable positions, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The only part of him he could move were his eyes, which were darting around with a type of fear he’d never felt.

The Bentley was honking outside, desperate to save him, but just as helpless as he was.

All either of them could do was wait. Wait for whatever was happening to Crowley to stop.

Or, for whoever was doing it to him, to arrive and claim their prize.

Chapter Text

“We’ve settled on how everything will go.” The Metatron had Aziraphale out of his seat within moments and took it for himself.

“We? As in…?” Aziraphale looked up at his boss, from the chair across from him.

Feeling what Michael felt, he made a note to lower his desk, before future interactions with lesser angels.

Having an imposing figure in blinding white clothes, looking down on you, was most unpleasant.

“We”, as in myself, The Almighty Herself, and Her only Son, Himself.” The Metatron’s voice oozed sarcasm.

“Her only…you mean Jesus?” Aziraphale sat up straight and looked about.

“Is He up here? As in…right now?”

“Of course He is. Where else would He be?” The Metatron spoke to him like he was stupid.

“W…well, I imagined His soul is with all the other mortal souls. In the waiting room.” Aziraphale realized how foolish such a thing was, before he said it.

“No, He still has His original soul, and the mortal body He died in…excuse me, but have you read the Bible?” The Metatron demanded.

“Once!” Aziraphale quickly answered. He spoke with his hands when he was nervous, and they were fluttering now.

“I read it, throughly, it’s just been a few centuries. And it was retranslated so often…”

The Metatron raised his eyebrow.

“I collected a copy of every version, however. Even the simplest forms, meant for indoctrinating human children…” Aziraphale also talked too much when he was nervous.

“Then you know Christ rose after three days, and is currently at His mother’s side, waiting for you to do your job?”

Aziraphale made eye contact with The Metatron and nodded slightly. In all honesty, the entire Jesus situation had always confused him.

His favorite part of the man’s tale was Crowley’s act of kindness, showing a simple carpenter the wonders of the world and all that.

Otherwise, he’d pitied the poor human’s fate on that cross, but assumed he was just another one of Heaven’s failed experiments.

Why was he made Supreme Archangel? Micheal had a point…

“Would you like to meet Him? Now, He’s not exactly enthusiastic about The Plan….” The Metatron admitted.

“….but you have such a way with humans, so I doubt it would be much effort on your part to persuade Him.”

He leaned forward and stared at Aziraphale with a fake smile.

“If it’s not too much to ask.”

Aziraphale knew The Metatron’s request was actually an order. They always were.

He risked looking around for Evangeline, but she’d disappeared. How did she manage that?

Was she an illusion he’d conjured up to survive up here? That didn’t seem like him…

“Of course I’d like to meet him. I can’t recall ever having the pleasure.”

Azirphale faked a smile as well. He stood and motioned for The Metatron to lead the way.

…….

“Which one of you minxes tied these knots?” The demon asked.

It was sitting in the middle of a witch’s den, aka Sheila’s condo.

The coven had Crowley tied to a wooden chair and circled in their leader’s living room.

“I…I tied them.” Deidra’s eyes were on the floor, as she stepped forward and slightly raised her hand.

“Oh, I bet you did. They’re nice and tight.”

The demon’s voice was like velvet.

It was very different than when Bethany first met it. The thing’s entire demeanor was different.

Bethany could feel the white hot rage pouring from it, even as it grinned and leaned forward to manipulate Diedra.

“Look at that hair. You’re like a sexy little match stick.” Crowley teased, while testing the knots with it’s wrists.

Deidra giggled and tucked her red hair behind her ear, completely missing Sheila’s glare.

“Do you burn many ropes, Matchstick? Show me, then I’ll take you somewhere nice and show you how I handle other tight things…”

“Shut up, you pestilence.” Sheila’s voice was harsh, as she waved the black feather in her hand.

Bethany watched Crowley struggle to open It’s mouth, to no avail.

It’s eyes were completely yellow once more, except for the black slits that were practically burning a hole in Sheila’s face.

The way it trembled with anger was so human, Bethany had to look away.

“Diedra. Leave.” Sheila didn’t break eye contact with Crowley.

“But…” Diedra started to complain, but one of her coven sisters shushed her and waved at the door.

They’d seen Sheila’s wrath first hand, and feared for Diedra later.

…….

“Even as helpless as you are right now, you can still tempt like that.” Sheila watched Diedra leave, before turning back to Crowley.

“You are a powerful one, aren’t you? More than even I realized.”

She stepped closer to the demon and Bethany finally understood why the other witches were afraid of her.

A far cry from her usual dumpy appearance, tonight she looked like a witch.

Her thick, brown hair was down in long waves, and the robe she’d chosen was blood red and flowing.

The power coming off her encompassed Crowley, who tried it’s best to lean away from her.

“What legion are you from?” Sheila demanded, near it’s face.

Crowley slouched in it’s chair and just stared at her, unblinking. Bethany would have wet her pants if she was under such a gaze.

“Oh right, your little mouth.” Sheila snickered and waved the feather again.

Crowley’s mouth was released once more. It flexed it’s jaw, but still remained silent.

Sheila raised her hand and slapped it hard across the face. The sound made the other witches jump and one of them let out a small scream.

“You are under my control. The sooner you start going along with it, willfully, the better off you’ll be.” Sheila spoke calmly and massaged her hand.

The slap forced Crowley’s head to turn. It didn’t react to the blow, but it’s yellow eyes softened when they landed on Bethany.

“Hey you.” It greeted her gently.

“Hey.” Bethany whispered, without meaning to.

Crowley looked so much like a human man. The Winnie the Pooh shirt it was wearing lended to that…but it wasn’t fooling anyone with those eyes.

Still, Bethany struggled seeing it so helpless.

“Look, I’m sorry I rejected your kiss, or whatever this is about, but….”

Bethany felt Sheila’s gaze fall on her, but pretended she didn’t. Her heart started racing faster.

“…you seemed like such a sweetheart. A smart one too, so what are you doing mixing with these idiots?” Crowley jerked it’s head at Sheila.

“These types of witches are what we call “kindling”down in Hell. They trade temporary power for eternal flames.”

Crowley looked back at Sheila and grinned.

“Satan makes fun of humans like you.” He informed her.

“He doesn’t need to be worshipped and he’s not paying you any attention. We have laughed at your prayers during office parties, however…”

Sheila was too busy staring at Bethany to pay attention to it’s words.

Crowley rolled it’s eyes and turned back to Beth, who was slowly backing up towards the door.

“She hasn’t convinced you to give up your soul yet, has she, love?”

Bethany shook her head.

“Good girl. Don’t do it, you wouldn’t like it down there…”

“Shut it.” Sheila waved the feather again, silencing Crowley once more.

Crowley gave in this time and let it’s head fall. It’s eyes closed and it’s body slouched.

Did it fall asleep? Just like that?

“You three, go in the sitting room and wait for me.” Sheila ordered the other witches, who left without hesitation.

“You. My office. Now.” She snapped her fingers at Bethany.

Bethany nodded, but seriously considered running for her life.

Chapter Text

Atticus was a good guy. Not the least bit naive, but enough in love that he was willing to act like it.

He was sleeping hard, when Bethany called at two in the morning.

She was the only person in his phone with a special ringtone, so he was speaking her name before he was completely awake.

“Beth? Bethany?” He answered groggily, as he fumbled in the dark for his lamp switch.

“Are you ok? Where are you?”

“I’m at Sheila’s.”

Beth sounded like she’d been crying. Atticus was already in the living room, putting his shoes on.

“Are you ok?” He repeated.

“No.” Bethany admitted, her voice hitching.

“I made a mistake, I think. I don’t know…”

“What’s her address? I’m coming.” Atticus noticed one of their roommates, Miles, was asleep on the couch.

He shook him awake, waiting for Beth to answer.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” she spoke hesitantly.

“Get up, man! We’re going to get Beth!” Atticus spoke over her to Miles.

“Bethany? What happened?” Miles shot up as well and shoved his feet in a pair of flip flops, next to the coffee table.

“I was just so angry over what it did to me. I just wanted answers…” Bethany was crying again.

“And I know it’s a demon, but I’m not sure it deserves…I think I did the wrong thing.”

“Please, please explain later. Tell me where you are, so I can come get you!” Atticus begged.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Bethany repeated in a whisper.

“You called me because you want me to come.”

Atticus was pulling his long hair in a ponytail, and the two boys were out the door, in their pajamas.

“Ok. Ok…” Bethany finally agreed, and told him where Sheila lived.

“Pull up with the lights off.”

…….

“You know, I’ve always disliked the Catholic Church, but I dig the aesthetics.”

Crowley spoke to Sheila, casually, like he hadn’t been trapped on a chair for forty-eight hours.

He tilted his head and gave the witch a once over, before letting his head fall back, to stare at the ceiling.

The wooden chair creaked, especially where it had been poorly nailed to the floor.

Crowley knew he could break it, but he preferred this to being pressed into the black floorboards, by whatever hold this bitch had on him.

“Though, I’ve never understood why so many of your lot adopted the same look. That dress is awfully Popey.”

Sheila sneered and ran her hand down the dramatic, embroidered blue robe she was wearing.

“Natural enemies, Catholics and Kindling Witches. But you all go to the same place. So silly…”

“All Catholics go to Hell?” Sheila asked, despite herself.

“The ones running the show do. Every single one of them.” Crowley replied.

“Hm.” Sheila let out a happy hum.

“You’ll be right next to them, Hag.” Crowley lifted his head to smile at her.

“At least they don’t walk into it willingly, like you morons.”

“Oh, and what’s your excuse?” Shiela was quick to reply.

“Didn’t you live in Heaven? From what I understand, YOU morons jumped from whatever ledge you fell from.”

Crowley scoffed and splayed his long legs out, trying to appear nonchalant. But he couldn’t remember ever being as livid as this woman made him.

“You don’t know anything about the Arrangement I have with our Dark Father.” Sheila pulled up a chair and daintily sat across from him.

“And your claims don’t scare me. Demons speak lies like I breath air. It’s your nature.”

“You read too many books.” Crowley closed his eyes and wished she’d just leave.

His wrists were cut through by these ropes and his body ached. He’d never had to deal with pain on earth this long, but Sheila had his Miracles restrained.

Crowley cursed himself for leaving feathers behind. For even stepping foot in Bethany’s room.

“That’s what I get for being personable.” He muttered to himself.

“What was that?” Sheila stood once more and he heard her step closer.

“So, what’s the plan here, exactly?” He asked and crossed his legs.

“Did you just want me as a pet or something? I heard witches have cats as familiars, but I suppose a demon is more impressive…”

“Something like that.” Sheila admitted.

“You really don’t remember me, do you?” Her voice was cold.

Crowley looked at her face, which he’d recognized the instant he saw her in that pub.

“Nah, sorry. I meet a lot of people.”

“Hm. Well, I guess it was just a blink within a moment for you, considering how old you are.”

Sheila crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him.

“But I remember it like it was yesterday. I attempted this before, and I only failed because…”

“Because you underestimate what you’re ACTUALLY dealing with, when it comes to the occult. Idiot…”

“I only failed because of your watch dog. It was an angel, I assume? Though, I don’t understand why one would cozy up…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Crowley lied badly, which Sheila caught.

“No sarcasm? This must be a sensitive subject.”

She put her hands on her knees and bent down to Crowley’s level, her face near his own.

“What did you do to me?”

Crowley grinned and shrugged. He decided to let on that he did, in fact, remember exactly what happened between them.

“I didn’t do anything, lucky for you.” He admitted.

“My “watch dog” is much kinder. They found out what you were trying to do, and just…put you to sleep.”

“So it wasn’t a coma?” Sheila looked annoyed and started pacing in front of him.

“Nope. Just a little nap…because he is all about mercy.”

Crowley decided to risk a lie, using Aziraphale as an empty threat.

“But even he has his limits, so when he finds out what you’ve done to me…”

Sheila let out a barking laugh, shutting Crowley up.

“We know the angel abandoned you!” She informed him.

Crowley swallowed hard and set his jaw. He couldn’t make eye contact anymore.

“I guess it’s pity ran out and it flew back to heaven, but we know you’re alone. That shop has been empty for over a year…”

“Not empty. Just closed.” Crowley muttered.

Muriel, that silly little angel he’d met, would touch down every now and again. He assumed it was to do some dusting and check up on all the literature.

Too bad they’d be useless, even if they were earth bound at the moment.

“What now?” He asked again.

“You’ve caught me and I’m all alone on this damned rock, so what now?”

Sheila gleefully clapped her hands and spun around. Like a child excited for show and tell, except creepy as fuck.

She hurried over to one of her large, black bookshelves and delicately picked up a small leather box.

“How close have you ever been to Holy Water?” She asked, her tone practically giddy.

Chapter Text

“Isn’t this clever? One of my girls had it custom made for me on Etsy.”

Sheila had set a small folding table in front of Crowley, before opening the leather case.

She removed a stamp pad, a wooden stamp with a decorative, silver backing…and a jar.

A small, clear jar with it’s lid sealed over with black wax. It was filled with holy water.

Crowley was clenching his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palms. He was trying his best not to shake with fear.

“I hardly ever agree with these modern witches, but Aurora has been successful for a reason. This is much easier to wield than a branding iron.”

Sheila popped the lid off her new stamp and showed Crowley the design that was carved into it.

“It has my name in runes! And they’re perfectly accurate as well, bright girl…”

She set the stamp down and opened the pad out on the table. Crowley watched her grab the jar and couldn’t stop himself from seizing up.

Sheila noticed and chuckled darkly.

“It’s diluted, if that makes you any less nervous.” She gave him a fake pout and started peeling the wax off the top.

“It doesn’t matter how diluted it is, that stuff will kill me!” Crowley sat forward and tried to reason with her.

“You have a demon under your control, what is the point of this? You’re about to destroy what you worked so hard to get…”

“I own you until I run out of your feathers.” Sheila explained.

“This is a tad more permanent, so I’m not destroying anything.” She reassured him.

“As long as I did everything else right, you’ll be just fine. Well…not fine, but still completely functional.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Crowley couldn’t take his eyes off the jar.

“Your master, sorry OUR master, is very upset with you. Did you know that?”

“I don’t have a master.” Crowley managed to steel his voice.

“Not by choice, no. But you are a demon, which means you belong to Satan, whether you like it or not.” Sheila insisted.

“No.” Crowley corrected her.

“Only one way to find out.” Sheila shrugged and twisted the lid off the jar.

“I do hope I’m not wrong.” She giggled, as she poured the holy water into the ink pad.

“Otherwise, we’ll both die. God, I’m nervous…”

“God?” Crowley’s boots dug into the hardwood. He had to resist kicking off and ripping the chair from it’s nails.

“You’re right. Lucifer, I’m nervous. Have mercy blah blah blah…”

Sheila took two, small black candles from the case as well. Along with what looked like pieces of bone, a braid of Crowley’s red hair, and one of his long, black feathers.

“All of this is probably unnecessary, but old habits die hard.”

Crowley gritted his teeth when he realized she was lighting the candles with Aziraphale’s firefly lighter. They stole it out of his pocket.

“Give that back.”

Sheila giggled and waved his words away. But her smile fell, as she picked up the stamp and pressed it into the holy water soaked pad.

“Wait…” Crowley’s voice weakened.

“Wait wait, you’re right. The neighbors.” Sheila groaned and set the stamp down, before quickly walking behind Crowley.

“N…neighbors?” He stammered and tried to look behind himself, to see what she was doing.

He heard a door open and rustling, like she was retrieving something from a coat closet.

“Yes, I can’t have you making a racket. They’ll never find you, but it would be annoying to answer any questions.”

Crowley heard her step behind him, right as his mouth was covered by something made of scratchy fabric.

He fought against what was happening and yelled out. Sheila took the opportunity to pull the scarf in his mouth and tied it as tight as she could.

“Be still! If you screw this this up, I may have to do it more than once!” She shoved the back of his head as she walked back around.

Crowley was cursing now, but his words were muffled behind his new gag. Sheila watched him rage and pull at his binds for a minute, until he gave up.

When he finally collapsed in his chair, his breath seething as he bit down on that purple scarf, Crowley’s eyes made her uncomfortable for the first time.

If he could kill with a look, she’d have fallen dead right there.

“Are you done? Drama queen?” She managed to sound confident, as she came back to the table.

“Your cooperation isn’t necessary, but greatly appreciated. Just make this easy on both of us.”

Crowley watched her pick up the holy water marked stamp and lower her head in prayer. He recognized the language she spoke as Latin.

He didn’t even have it in him to find this funny. Why did humans pray to Satan in Latin?

Aziraphale would know. Why didn’t he ever ask him?

When the witch started walking towards him again, Crowley looked up towards Heaven and prayed himself.

Not to God, but he apologized over and over in his head to Aziraphale.

“I should have gone with you. I’m so sorry I’m stubborn and stupid. You asked me to go and I sent you all by yourself…”

What if Aziraphale came back for him? He wouldn’t be able to find him. Was Heaven notified when a demon was killed with holy water?

Would his old friend care?

“Be still.” Sheila was behind Crowley now.

She gripped the hair on top of his head and gently pulled to the left, exposing his neck.

His chest was rising and falling with panicked breaths, otherwise he was board stiff.

“Is that a snake tattoo? Well, this will look pretty right underneath it…”

Crowley closed his eyes and went limp. After apologizing to his angel, he only felt relief.

This was it. He’d stop existing and nothing he went through would matter anymore.

This calm acceptance was chased away, the moment Sheila pressed the stamp into his throat.

Crowley screamed behind the scarf and threw himself sideways. The chair legs broke and he fell to the floor, wailing and writhing, while the holy water sizzled on his neck.

Shiela was smiling and breathing hard. The fact that he didn’t melt into a puddle immediately meant…

“It worked.” She whispered and stuck the stamp in her pocket with a trembling hand.

Crowley was still now. She thought he’d passed out from the pain, until she heard him crying softly.

Her cruel smile grew as she knelt next to him and pulled his hair again.

There it was, right underneath that stupid tattoo. Still too raw and bubbled to read, but it would heal quickly.

She’d branded a demon with her own name.

“Satan gave you to me”. She notified her new pet and stroked it’s hair.

“I don’t know what you did to piss Him off, but you’re mine now.”

…….

“Did you convince Him?” Evangeline asked, after hearing what Aziraphale had gone through.

“No.” Aziraphale admitted. He was back at his desk and hadn’t spoken for hours.

He’d lowered the desk, so Evangeline could rest her chin on it now. She’d done this and stared at him the entire time.

“I can’t blame the poor man, after what they put him through down there.” Aziraphale explained.

“What happened to Him?” Eva asked.

“They murdered Him."

“I know that, but how?” Evangeline pushed.

“They beat Him, then nailed Him to a bit of wood.” Azirphale answered, not even questioning why Eva didn’t know the story.

“All because He told them to love each other. Nonsense really, but typical of far too many humans.”

They were quiet for bit, as the words sank in.

“Did it hurt?”

Aziraphale gave her a questioning look.

“Being nailed to something. Does it hurt?” Evangeline elaborated.

“Ah yes, I’m afraid so. Very badly, I imagine.” Aziraphale sadly replied.

“Then I don’t blame Him either. Pain didn’t seem very nice, when I saw it.” Evangeline held her arm and looked at the ground.

“May you never know.” Aziraphale turned his chair and looked at the large curtain behind him.

More than anything, he wanted to tell Crowley about the awful conversation he’d had with Jesus, of all people.

The horrible thing Aziraphale was forced to ask Him to do.

All with a fake smile on his face, while the Metatron looked on. With no sign of God anywhere.

“I could just check on him. As a distraction…” he whispered to himself.

But he imagined looking out the window, just to see Crowley with that girl. Or anyone else…

Was Crowley even depressed? Or was laying drunk in ditches just how he behaved, when Aziraphale wasn’t around?

He probably didn’t miss him. He was a demon, after all…

Aziraphale decided risking that type of distraction wasn’t something he could afford, and turned back to his desk.

Chapter Text

“What was that?” Miles whispered.

He blew his blond, swoop bangs out of his face and looked about nervously.

“Probably someone’s dog, barking at us.” Atticus knew that wasn’t true, but right now he was only worried about Bethany.

He and Miles were standing in the dark parking lot of Sheila’s condominium, staring up at the windows and wondering which was her’s.

They’d heard what sounded like a muffled scream from one of those windows, just before Bethany scurried out of the darkness.

“Beth!” The scream faded from Atticus’s memory, the moment he saw her.

“Attie, oh Attie, we have to do something!” Bethany collapsed in his arms.

She was dressed all in black, more often than not lately, and smelled of strange incense and chemicals.

Not his usual angel at all. And he could tell she was at the end of whatever this nonsense was that she’d gotten mixed up in.

“Do something about what? Actually, tell us in the car….”

The boys grabbed her hands and pulled her towards Mile’s car, despite Bethany resisting.

“No! We can’t just leave him in there!” Bethany started crying again and almost sat on the sidewalk, to avoid being pulled any further.

Atticus and Miles let go of her hands, which caused her to plop downwards. She started scooting backwards and panic breathing.

“Leave who where? What the fuck are you talking about?” Miles demanded as he scrambled after her.

“Bethany! Beth, look at me.” Atticus knelt with her and took her face in his hands.

Beth stopped trying to get away. They looked one another in the eyes, before she fell on his shoulder and started sobbing.

“She’s done something terrible to him and it’s all my fault!” She managed to speak through the tears.

“Sheila did something to Anthony?” Atticus held her close as his eyes scanned back up to the windows.

“Yes.” Bethany whimpered.

“Crowley. He just calls himself Crowley.

“Hey, guys!” Miles clapped his hands several times to get their attention.

“You woke me up at two in the morning for a rescue mission! Let’s get to rescuing! Get her in the car!”

“We can’t leave him.” Bethany sniffled and wiped her eyes.

“Leave who?” Miles looked about in frustrated confusion.

“Crowley.” Atticus gave a resigned sigh and stood up, holding out his hand to help Beth stand with him.

“Did she take the book back?”

“Of course. But I don’t think she even needs anything like that anymore.” Bethany admitted.

“She has a demon now. If it worked, she like…owns him.”

Miles looked between them a few times.

“What the actual fuck are you two going on about?” He angrily demanded.

He was interrupted by soft, “beep beep” and a pair of headlights flashing behind him.

……

“Crowley escaped in this a few weeks ago. Until Sheila sensed something he did and found him in a truck stop bathroom…”

“What was a demon doing in a truck stop bathroom?” Miles stopped peering through the the Bentley’s window to give Beth an incredulous look.

“Minding his business, until they came along.” Bethany motioned towards Sheila’s building.

“Right…well, whoever this guy is, he loves this car. It’s like a hundred years old and looks brand new.”

Miles fogged up the Bentley’s driver’s side window with his breath, before drawing a heart on it with his finger.

“It makes me think of a hearse.” Bethany hugged herself as she walked around the car to read it’s license plate.

“Did they steal his car too? Jesus.” Atticus messed with Bentley’s side view mirror, then tested the door handle.

It was locked.

“No, it wasn’t there the day they caught him. They tied him up and put him in Sheila’s trunk.” Beth’s eyes welled up at the memory.

“And this car hasn’t been in the parking lot these past two days.”

“It wasn’t in the parking lot when we pulled up, either.” Atticus scratched the back of his head and looked around.

“Beth, you’ve found yourself in a very strange situation.

“Don’t act like I don’t know that.” Bethany snapped and lightly kicked the car’s tire.

“We can’t focus on weird cars right now, we need to find a way to help Crowley before she makes him do something terrible.”

As if these were the magic words, the doors on the Bentley threw themselves open.

The three humans jumped back in fright, just as ‘Rescue Me’, by Fontella Bass, started blaring from it’s speakers.

Bethany and Atticus made eye contact across the car. He shook his head while she nodded enthusiastically.

Miles watched their silent argument and cast the deciding vote.

“I’m driving!” He called over the music and jumped in the car with zero hesitation.

Bethany climbed in the back seat, which forced Atticus to do so as well, his cursing drowned out by the song.

The car slammed the doors shut and disappointed Miles by hitting it’s own gas and zooming in the direction of Aziraphale’s bookshop.

……

“What can you make it do?” Diedra was hovering near Crowley, who just looked dead eyed.

“Whatever it’s capable of.” Sheila smugly replied.

Her good mood seemed to have changed her mind about being a angry with her apprentice.

“What is it capable of?” Aurora, a beautiful, petite brunette, lightly ran her fingers over Crowley’s hair.

“I can hear you, for one thing.” Crowley jerked away from her and took a few steps backwards.

Shiela’s underlings gasped. Crowley had been stone still when they walked in, so they’d assumed the ritual made him into a mindless plaything.

“Secondly, I can tell what you all actually look like. Ugh, I’d use glimmer magic too, if I were so haggish.” He swatted his hair, as if the women’s hands were dirty.

The witches gasped again and covered their mouths. One reason they followed Sheila so loyally, was her power to make them stay young and beautiful.

Apparently, the demon could see them for their true selves now. And it was rough.

“Except you, Matchstick. Your loveliness doesn’t need to be painted on.” Crowley flirted with the youngest of the women once more.

He said the words without smiling or blinking. He only focused his thoughts on her as hard as he could.

Being out of practice with temptations was bad enough, but was likely impossible when he was under the spell of a stupid witch.

Diedra’s cheeks flushed rosy, but she refused to reply. Or return Crowley’s intense stare.

…..

“Filth. Even with the position you’ve found yourself in, you’re a pervert.” Sheila huffed as she dug through a bag of men’s clothes.

She didn’t bother silencing Crowley again, or worry about him manipulating her girls.

“You’ll start being punished for that at some point, if it doesn’t stop. But for now…”

She shoved a black outfit in Crowley’s arms and pointed towards the bathroom.

“Take a shower and put those on. I can’t have you walking around with me, looking like a Disneyland tourist.”

“Yeah well, you don’t deserve Winnie the Pooh.” Crowley replied.

He fought against it, but he’d already learned that Sheila’s voice may as well have been God’s own.

His feet forced him to walk to the bathroom and do as he was told, but his deathly look didn’t leave Sheila’s face.

“And put a bandaid over that disgusting thing on your neck.” She ordered him with a cheerful smile.

“Just until it heals. They’re in the medicine cabinet.”

Crowley didn’t respond as the door shut behind him. But she knew he’d do exactly as he was ordered.

“He could have gotten dressed out here.” Deidra stared at the bathroom door with a yearning she couldn’t mask.

“Maybe if you pay me enough.” Sheila spoke sarcastically and sat on her black couch.

“What are your plans for it?” Aurora joined her mistress and clasped her hands excitedly.

“This is unprecedented. You have the full power of an actual demon at your command!”

Sheila tilted her head and looked thoughtful.

“Have you ladies ever wanted revenge on anyone?”

The women all shared intrigued looks.

“Of course. Everyone does at some point.” Aurora assured her.

“Excellent. Grab a pen and some paper, and we’ll start there.” Sheila waved her coven into action.

Chapter Text

“Holy water. Just need to find holy water and it’ll stop.”

Crowley was standing in the shower, letting only the hot water blast over him. He planned to stand there until it got cold or Sheila got impatient.

He looked down at his wrists, rubbed to the point of bleeding by a witch’s ropes, and wanted to die.

Crowley could feel the hold she had on him. His complete lack of autonomy, the moment she decided it.

He felt violated and stolen. Helpless. The helplessness was the worst part.

He sat down in the tub and hugged his knees to his chest.

This was almost as bad as being in Hell. He couldn’t compare it to the torture he’d endured there, but it was close.

And it had the potential to reach those heights on his mind and morals.

Sheila would use him for debauchery, he expected that. But she’d likely use him to hurt humans as well.

And since he was no longer property of Hell, no one from Heaven would move to stop him.

He’d lost his own, limited, free will. Now, he was an extension of a mortal’s boundless free will. A cruel mortal who’d have all her evil goals in effortless reach.

The demons in Hell were probably celebrating right now. Crowley and the witch were about to do a lot of their work for them.

Crowley winced when the water hit the mark on his neck and he started crying.

Not from the pain, but the hopelessness he felt. He’d sunk so low and all it took was for Aziraphale to stop caring.

“Please come back.” Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his knees.

……

If his angel walked in, right now, the room would become lighter.

The mood of the place would lift and Crowley would feel that aura of love that followed Aziraphale around.

Effortless love he had for everyone. Equally.

Humans couldn’t even feel it. Other demons were repulsed by it and Crowley didn’t feel the same thing from the angels he’d dealt with.

Aziraphale was a unique creature. He spoke about love as the answer for everything, in the end. Because that’s what he put out into existence, without even trying.

Crowley felt stupid for thinking he was special in that. Delusional.

“You’re the bad guys.” Aziraphale had said. One of the last things he said to him.

That’s what he thought of Crowley the entire time. Just another sinner who he was saving.

How impressive for an angel to bring a demon back to God’s side. Score one for Heaven.

Every kindness of Crowley’s that Aziraphale witnessed, was obviously just a confirmation to him that he was right.

He didn’t love Crowley for who Crowley was. He only loved that stupid angel he’d met at the beginning of everything.

Naive and obedient. Fluffy and pure.

Their relationship through the years was clearly out of his endless mercy. To try saving that person Crowley had no desire to be again.

Then, the moment Crowley had the chance to give Aziraphale that person back, he’d done exactly what his true nature was.

He tried to tempt an angel from all the good he could do, so he could have him all to himself. A purely selfish, demonic act.

“I deserve this.” Crowley decided out loud, with a soft sob.

Even if he wasn’t special to him, he wanted to talk to Aziraphale one last time. To apologize, even if he didn’t believe him.

But he also prayed Aziraphale wouldn’t see him this way. That his plan wouldn’t take too long to execute, before Heaven caught wind of anything.

Because Crowley did have a plan, but it wasn’t for escaping his situation and going on about his life.

No, he knew the only way out was destroying himself. And he needed to do it before Sheila figured out what he was trying.

“Alright, demon! You’re clean enough. Get dressed and come out!” Sheila’s voice followed a rap on the door.

……

Crowley stopped weeping and did as she ordered immediately.

He shut off the shower, climbed out of the tub and didn’t bother drying off with a towel, since she didn’t tell him to.

“At least they have some fashion sense.” Water collected around him in a puddle, as he held up the pair of black, soft leather pants she’d sent him in here with.

He slid into these and shook out the folded, low, black v-neck she’d matched along with them.

There was a clatter at his feet. Crowley knelt down to pick up what he’d dropped.

A long, black crucifix necklace. With a little Jesus carved in it and everything.

What a perfectly stupid and blasphemous collar for a witch’s pet.

“You’re dressing me like a slut!” He grouched through the door, as he dug through the medicine cabinet for a bandaid.

He heard Diedra squeal and giggle at his words.

This gave him a bit of hope for his big plan. His temptation against Matchstick actually worked, or she was just naturally enthralled with him.

Some witches had a thing for demons, despite it being a big no no. But Crowley learned that all humans had their kinks or taboos.

It led them astray and often into an early grave.

Thankfully, lust just made humans so damn stupid.

Chapter Text

“I can’t make anyone fall in love. Genie rules.” Crowley joked.

He tapped his foot impatiently and squinted into the dark, at this house the witches brought him to.

The suburbs made him cringe on a good night, but the air on this street smelled like indifference, which was his least favorite scent.

“I didn’t say anything about love.” Aurora stuck her head out of Sheila’s passenger seat window.

“You’re meant to plant a seed. I know how demons work.”

Crowley took his new sunglasses off and set them on top of the car, before leaning down to speak with her.

“You want me to tempt this guy into leaving his wife and children for you, but not for love? Because that won’t be why he does it…”

“Did I ask?” Aurora snapped.

“You’re about to lose the ability to ask questions, Demon. You’re lucky I like your accent and allow you to speak at all.”

Sheila threatened him from the driver’s seat, without even looking up from her phone.

Confident in her power over him.

Crowley struggled to hold in his anger, but he managed to speak calmly.

“I just thought you’d like to know. May I ask some basic questions, at least? It’s easier to tempt when I have details.”

“Such as?” Aurora asked.

“Who is he to you? Your boss? Old boyfriend?”

Aurora glared at him.

“College professor? Come on, I’m a demon. Nothing you say will…”

“His name is Marcus. He’s…he’s my brother in law.” Aurora muttered.

Crowley couldn’t help but raise his eyebrow at her.

“Soooo, how many of your nieces or nephews are sleeping in there….?”

“Would you make him shut up and do his job?” Aurora was beet red when she raised her voice at Sheila.

“Stop fighting. Both of you.” Sheila spoke coolly, but still didn’t look up. She was texting one of her other apprentices, planning Crowley’s next job.

Crowley glanced in the back seat and made eye contact with Diedra.

She’d insisted on riding along, after learning there would be an empty seat next to him. There had been a lot of “accidental” arm brushing, on her part.

He grinned and rolled his eyes at her, pretending they were the only two in this situation that had common sense.

A “team” of sorts.

This caused more flushed cheeks and her sliding down in her seat to hide them.

“Ok.” Crowley whipped around at that and sauntered up his victim’s driveway.

“One infidelity with added family drama, coming right up.”

“Is he going to just walk in the front door?” Aurora scoffed, right before Crowley seemingly disappeared into thin air.

“Where did he go?” Diedra sounded panicked.

She opened her door, just in time to catch the tail end of large, black snake, slithering into the bushes that lined the house.

“Cool.” She and Aurora whispered at the same time.

…….

“Witches betraying witches.” Crowley tsked in his head.

The room he slid into was clearly a Kindling Witch’s work space. With altars and various jars of gross stuff he could smell, even through the glass.

Aurora’s sister had likely bewitched Crowley’s target into marriage, “stealing” him from her. An all too common sisterly feud, among dark magic users.

“Poor Marcus.” Crowley thought, with a flick of his tongue.

He’d snuck in through a broken bit of wall, that led into this basement. His snake form was useful for such things, though he typically avoided the transformation.

It was difficult to change back, if he stayed this way too long. And he wasn’t as fond of eating rats as most demons.

Crowley concentrated as he slid towards the basement door, gradually turning back to his typical appearance, until his boots were clicking up the steps.

“Blah. Blech…” he wiped his tongue off with his shirt.

He could taste the air as a snake, but the flavor never translated well to his human form.

This room tasted of mildew and old blood. Icky.

With barely a thought, he snapped his fingers. The door unlocked and opened itself.

Crowley started wandering about the house, touching the family’s knick knacks and scowling at the portraits on the walls.

Aurora’s sister was much older than the man they were fighting over, which Crowley could see even in pictures now.

Whatever magic Satan granted these women was powerful. Hell was going to have a field day with them when they all died.

Their children looked normal, however. Two girls, maybe six and seven years old. Two more innocent victims of what Crowley was about to do.

“Sorry.” He muttered, as he passed their rooms and walked into the master bedroom.

There, he’d stand over their sleeping father. Whispering hints of lust, and sending explicit scenarios into his dreams.

All of these scenarios would involve Aurora, and “plant the seed of sin”, as it were.

The rest of the plan was up to Marcus’s restraint. But mortal men had very little of that, Crowley had found.

He hated how good he was at this sort of thing. He hated everything about it.

……

“I need to get in there.” Bethany’s face was practically smooshed against the bookshop’s window.

“That would involve breaking and entering.” Atticus notified her, as he tried the door knob and found it was locked.

“That is a first edition ‘The Importance of Being Ernest!’” Bethany did actually squish her nose against the glass this time.

“It’s just sitting there! Who would…?”

“Guys, why would a demonic car bring us to Soho?” Miles interrupted her.

“The car isn’t demonic. It’s just…aware.” Bethany defended the Bentley, who honked back halfheartedly.

It was demonic, technically. But it didn’t consider that a bad thing.

“No one is here. All the store hours are blacked out.” Atticus tapped the sign on the door.

“Maybe it meant for us to go in the coffee shop?” He looked across the way, but that place was closed as well.

“Check this out.” Bethany beckoned him over and pointed at something just in the window.

Atticus joined her and squinted inside.

Hanging on the wall was a clipboard, which held a single piece of paper.

On this sheet of paper was a list of chores, written with a very neat and flowing handwriting.

These chores consisted of ‘Dust where you see dust’, ‘Double check for dust’, ‘Take full inventory’, ‘Don’t be lazy (in regards to taking inventory)’Don’t light a single candle’ etc.

The last time these chores were done was that very day, if you believed the date and initials next to them.

According to the next dates listed, the owner of those initials would return in three days.

Chapter Text

“Why do humans kiss?”

Aziraphale knew it was for romantic purposes, typically. Familial pecks on the cheek were a different matter, one would hope.

But how did it start? He hadn’t witnessed the origin of that particular cultural phenomenon, but he remembered when it came into world wide fashion.

Out of no where it seemed.

Hell, even Judas kissed Jesus to betray him.

Angels and demons didn’t share this custom, in any sense. He’d never considered such a thing, because why would he?

Though, in the countless books he’d read, he always cheered internally when love was expressed this way, after hundreds of pages of pining.

Because it was important to mortals. So much was said, just by brushing lips for the first time.

Silly, really, if you thought too hard on it. But at the same time, not silly at all.

Important. Meaningful, in the language of humans.

He and Crowley had spent so long learning the languages of humans. Literally and figuratively.

The little things that made them happy. The things that devastated them, however insignificant they seemed to immortal beings.

What they felt and why it was significant. What led them astray or what set them on the path of good.

No one else, within their respective species, spoke that language so well.

But why, out of everything, why did Crowley kiss him?

Aziraphale lightly touched his lips with his fingers. Frustrated, yet again, that he couldn’t remember how his first and only kiss had felt.

He and Crowley had barely touched each other, the entire time they’d known one another.

They’d gone thousands of years, with only the occasional brushed shoulder, that Aziraphale always leaned away from.

“It was probably the only sin he hadn’t tried yet.” He muttered to himself.

They had finally danced though. Touched hands and prolonged the feeling, before moving on to the next partner.

Aziraphale sought that out himself. Crowley had just gone along with it.

The flutter, Aziraphale had felt in his stomach over it, was a common feeling, when dealing with that demon.

Too bad he didn’t have a stomach anymore.

Aziraphale leaned on his hand and let out a heavy sigh.

At his desk, as usual, he was meant to be writing his daily report, about things he couldn’t begin to care about, but started mindlessly sketching instead.

At least he still had this. He’d taken art classes for the sake of creating art, another part of the human language only he could quote up here.

Gold ink and a feather quill weren’t exactly ideal media, but Aziraphale was a talented artist, something he humbly admitted to.

The doodle that started in one corner, had begun to stretch across the page.

Crowley’s hands were longer than his own. Pleasantly cool. Soft. Unlike other demons, with their claws and boils.

The way he held a wine glass or removed his sunglasses. Moves Aziraphale had observed countless times, performed with fingers that handled everything so delicately…

So different from other demons. To the point that Aziraphale often forgot the truth of what Crowley was.

A unique creature. That’s how he’d subconsciously come to see him.

Why he’d come to love him, if he was being truly honest with himself. Aziraphale “loved” everyone, but…Crowley was special.

He’d made everything better, just by standing by his side. More than anything, he encouraged Aziraphale to be himself.

Embraced it even. Hyped him up, when everyone else he knew would think his hobbies were silly. His desire to do as humans do was foreign Upstairs.

A joke.

Aziraphale had been so sure Heaven was wrong about his companion. That his Fall was a mistake. A clinical error.

That Heaven, in its current state, didn’t deserve someone like Crowley.

Until the demon had to go and prove him wrong by tempting him. Just when Aziraphale handed him true salvation on a silver platter…

“Who is that?” Evangeline’s voice startled Aziraphale out of his thoughts.

……

“No one! That’s…it’s nothing!” Aziraphale crushed the drawing in his hand and flung it off his desk, missing the waste bin completely.

Evangeline stared at him, with her bottomless eyes, before chasing after the paper like a cat after yarn.

“Please, it’s nothing!” Aziraphale repeated and went after her. His cheeks would be flushed, if he still had the blood required.

“Oh, a human. A “man”, right? Like Jesus and Adam?” Evangeline smoothed out the picture and held it out to admire it.

“Yes! A human man! Someone…uh…a character from a book I read!” Aziraphale managed to lie, even in Heaven, and had to avoid snatching the paper.

“What’s covering his eyes?” Evangeline tilted her head and looked confused.

“Can he see?”

Aziraphale gently took the picture from her and ripped it in half. She frowned when he crumbled it up and threw it away.

“Those are sunglasses.” He tried to causally explain and sat back at his desk.

“Most humans wear them, even at night.” He lied again as he started doing actual work.

…….

“What exactly is there to gain from this?” Crowley was mortified over what was being asked of him.

“What did I say about questions?” Sheila replied and looked towards the city again.

They were standing outside on the roof of her condo, along with Diedra and another member of their coven, Lilian.

Lilian was blond and sharp looking, when the glimmer worked . Beautiful, just as the spell intended.

Crowley thought she actually looked like a moldy piece of bread. It was this moldy witch’s turn for him to work his miracles, for her gain.

“I’m curious myself.” Diedra made a show of standing next to him.

“Why do you want to put all the grocery shops out of business?”

“All of them but one.” Lilian held up her finger and corrected her, before turning to Crowley.

“My husband’s store chain and its connections will be left alone, understand?”

“Ah.” Crowley rolled his eyes and reached for a cigarette.

“You want a monopoly.”

He set a cigarette between his lips and lit it with a flick of his wrist, deeply inhaled clove smoke and blew it in Lilian’s face.

“Boring.”

“Boring?” Lilian angrily waved the smoke away and stomped at him.

“I thought you things were supposed to enjoy this stuff? What’s more evil than taking food out of people’s mouths?”

“Doing it for profit.” Crowley rubbed the back of his neck and looked to Sheila.

She was watching him closely this time. Obviously curious over how much he was capable of.

So far, he’d managed to keep his power hidden behind a curtain of Bible typical scenarios.

Tempting and giving the witch’s victims a chance to choose if evil happened, rather than performing such evils himself.

That had always been his “modus operandi”, as Aziraphale liked to say.

But, as a demon untethered by Heaven or Hell, he knew he could wreak insurmountable havoc, if his new “master” were so inclined.

It seemed this time, such havoc was unavoidable.

“Do it.” Sheila cooly told him.

Crowley stared her down, before dropping his cigarette and stomping on it. He ground it into the concrete, while he pictured it as Sheila’s face.

“Now!” Sheila ordered.

Crowley’s hand lifted against his will. His fingers snapped and he could feel what he’d been forced to do.

Around the majority of Europe, all the food in it’s supermarkets, farms and factories went bad.

Not just bad. Rotten. Maggot filled and seeping out of its packaging or crates.

The milk in cow’s udders went sour, before the cows themselves were stricken with disease. The same fate befell flocks of chickens and their eggs.

Trees began producing fruit that looked normal on the outside, but held worms or sawdust within.

Any food specific company, that didn’t belong to this bitch’s family, was about to go out of business.

So many mortals were going to go hungry.

Screams were coming from the city now. People trampling one another to escape the horror grocery shopping had just become.

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll blame your husband?” Diedra asked, listening to the mayhem in awe.

“I mean, it’s a bit suspicious that his is the only company without any problems, right?”

Lilian was too busy smiling and calling her CEO husband to gush over the good news. They were about to become insanely rich.

“That’s what we have that for.” Sheila answered on her behalf, her expression smug.

The women watched Crowley walk away, to sit on the edge of the roof with his back to them and the city.

He sat in silence, smoking and staring up at the stars.

Sheila started making plans for her epic rise to power, since her pet had finally revealed how powerful it truly was.

Chapter Text

“Have you ever heard of Bluetooth?” Miles was on watch duty, sitting in the Bentley and keeping an eye on the bookshop.

The car turned the volume up, on an Ozzy Osborne song, to drown him out.

“I’m just saying, that’s not as impressive as you think it is!” Miles shouted over it.

He was bored, but still fascinated by this “aware” car and kept trying to get a reaction out of it.

The Bentley finally began to shuffle through songs, to show it’s annoyance of being sat in this long by someone who talked so much.

“I’m sorry! I’d play on my phone but you don’t even have a charger…!”

Miles was cut off by the song stopping abruptly and the driver’s side door whipping open.

“….port.” He finished his sentence and looked around nervously.

His eyes were drawn to a dim halo of light, down the street. No one walking by seemed to notice it, and he wasn’t even sure if it was real himself.

The light faded and disappeared, right as a figure, dressed all in white, skipped out of the bustling crowd and into view.

This adult was actually skipping, like a child on a playground, and making a beeline for the bookshop.

Miles grabbed his phone and tried calling Bethany, without taking his eyes off the odd person. They were at the doors, using a key…

“Hey…?” Bethany’s voice appeared on the line, right as the they stepped inside and closed the door behind them.

“Screw the coffee, someone’s here!” Miles whisper shouted.

He hopped out of the Bentley and hid along the bookshop’s wall.

“They’re weird too! Like your Crowley guy!”

…….

“All the milk? Even soy?” Atticus almost wanted to cry.

He was exhausted and stressed, with hardly any sleep for three days. He just needed a double, vanilla latte to survive this last day.

“I’m afraid so.” The barista was closing up shop, after only being open for an hour.

“It was all fine yesterday, but today it’s gone off and rotten. It must have been a bad batch, because my refrigerator is working just fine…”

“Ok…alright.” Atticus let his face fall in his hands and groaned, but he managed to remain polite.

“May I have three black coffees then? Large, please…”

“‘Fraid not.” The barista sounded frightened now.

“It’s all like…ash. All of it. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“The coffee is ash?” Atticus scoffed at her, right as Bethany grabbed his arm and yanked him towards the exit.

“Someone showed up!”

……

“I saw someone. A girl, I think.” Miles led the way inside, once his friends arrived.

“They seemed obnoxiously happy…”

The bell at the top of the door jingled, as he shoved it open with far too much excitement.

“Welcome to A.Z FELL AND CO‘s!” A cheerful voice greeted them from somewhere in the shop.

They all turned to see a small, cute, bouncy person coming down a set of spiral stairs and wielding a yellow feather duster.

“Get out!” They ordered, their voice no less peppy.

“Wait! Wait, please just listen!” Bethany stepped around the boys and begged.

“We’ve been waiting for three days and we think a friend of yours is in trouble…”

“Nope! Nope nope, no humans in the shop!” The character interrupted and shooed them away with the duster.

“Ma’am, please…”

“Not a ma’am, so I’ve learned. And you do not want the owner to find out you snuck in here!”

They swatted Miles in the chest with the duster, before attempting to push him back .

“We didn’t sneak in! The door was unlocked!” Miles locked his knees, so the shopkeeper couldn’t move him towards the door.

They paused at that and gave him a frightened look.

“Please don’t tell him I left it unlocked.”

“Listen, um…” Atticus read the person’s name tag.

“Muriel! Muriel…uh, Crowley needs help! Do you know a Crowley?”

“Crowley? Yes, I knew one briefly.” Muriel perked up at that.

“He was the nicest demon. Which isn’t saying much, but he was quite kind to me, even by angel standards!”

They seemed to forget they were supposed to force the humans to leave.

“I thought he came with the shop, but I haven’t seen him since Mr.Fell came home.” Muriel went on dusting.

“It’s a shame really. It’d be nice to have someone to help reach the higher shelves.”

They pouted and looked up at the top of a particularly tall book case.

“I’d ask Mr. Fell if he has a step ladder, but they don’t let me talk to him. And it feels wrong digging through his closets without permission…”

Bethany looked Atticus up and down. He was at least as tall as Crowley. She elbowed him.

“What…oh! Here let me help with that!” He got the hint right away.

“Oh, thank you!” Muriel smiled even bigger and handed him the duster.

“Are all tall people this nice? No…no, I’ve met some mean ones…” they frowned again and looked thoughtful.

“Mr. Fell?” Bethany spoke gently, while Atticus got to work dusting.

“My memory is a bit off, but I believe Crowley mentioned a friend of his that owned a bookshop. Are the two of them friends?”

“They were.” Muriel’s eyes were wide, seeming to finally absorb what Beth was saying.

“They weren’t supposed to be. And now, I can’t imagine such a thing being allowed, what with Mr.Aziraphale’s reputation and all…”

“Aziraphale.” That name brought some of Bethany’s memories to the surface.

“Where is Mr.Aziraphale? Could you get him on the phone?”

Chapter Text

“I don’t believe Aziraphale has a…phone?”

Muriel motioned to a cozy work nook, almost hidden amongst the books.

“Well, he does on his desk down here, but not Upstairs.”

“He has a desk upstairs, too?” Miles jabbed his thumb at the spiral staircase.

“Is he upstairs now? How many desks does one guy need?”

“Yes and just the two. I think…” Muriel looked about.

“Yes, just two. But the one Upstairs is much bigger.”

“Wait, you said he IS upstairs?” Bethany pushed.

“Yes, that’s where he lives now.” Muriel didn’t seem at all pestered over repeating themselves.

“He went home, once he got a promotion. But I personally can’t understand how he could bare it.”

They were distracted by the view outside the window. It had begun to lightly rain and the humans were taking out their colorful umbrellas.

“I’d give anything to live here all the time. I could finish a book without stopping…every three days.”

Muriel turned back and realized the customers weren’t where they’d left them.

…..

“No! This area is off limits! Even when the shop is open, which it isn’t!”

Muriel chased the three young humans up the staircase, to Aziraphale’s living space, and caught them searching each of the rooms.

“Those were all closed for a reason! You need to leave, now!”

“Listen, Muriel. Please…” Bethany stepped out of the empty bedroom and begged them with her eyes.

“We need to help Crowley! You said you know him!”

“Yes.” Beth’s desperate expression gave Muriel pause.

“But…he’s a demon. Did you know he was a demon?”

“We do.” Bethany nodded and waved the boys over.

“He told me himself. We spoke for a long time, but I think he’s done something to my brain because I can’t remember everything we talked about…”

“A memory wipe.” Muriel muttered and clasped their hands.

“Oh.” Bethany breathed and lightly touched her temple.

“So he did do something.”

“It’s unusual for a human to know a demon. To truly…is he up to something?” Muriel looked disappointed at the thought, but not surprised.

“He’s using you for some dark deed, isn’t he? Come to trick me and make me fall…”

“No! No, I swear!” Bethany assured them.

“I’d swear on a Bible, he’s not using me for anything! He’s in tr…”

“That‘s a fantastic idea!” Muriel held their finger up, as the idea hit them.

“Come downstairs, all of you!”

“Why would they say Aziraphale is “upstairs” when he isn’t?” Atticus whispered to Miles.

“Because they’re obviously an insane person.” Miles harshly whispered back.

The space above the book shop was neatly cluttered, if such a description made sense. Comfy, lavender scented…and devoid of life.

Well, mostly devoid.

One of the sunnier rooms held an array of tall, luxurious houseplants. They didn’t think they’d ever seen such healthy foliage, outside of nature.

Miles watched Bethany hurry down the steps with Muriel.

Off to save a “demon” from “witches” to get it back to it’s “aware car.”

“If this Aziraphale guy is even real, I bet he’s dead in the basement. And we’re next…”

“We have to trust Beth.” Atticus begrudgingly insisted and followed after her.

“Oh my Gooood.” Miles groaned and lightly stomped his foot.

He stayed behind, looking through each room one last time.

“There isn’t even another desk up here. Why am I going along with all this?”

…….

“If you place your hand here and tell the truth, then the Bible will remain intact.” Muriel held out the oldest looking Bible they could find off the shelves.

“What happens if I lie?” Bethany asked, staring at the clearly antique and priceless book.

“It will burst into flames.” Muriel shrugged and motioned their head at Atticus.

They’d armed him with one of many fire extinguishers, spread about the place. He had the spout unlocked and pointed at the Bible .

“Won’t the Fell guy be upset if…?” Miles stepped behind Muriel.

Bethany shook her head at him, before he could finish that sentence.

“What? That thing is older than God. It must be worth a lot…”

“If you’re telling the truth, I’ll see what I can do about getting a message to Mr. Aziraphale.” Muriel interrupted and held the Bible out once more.

“He likes that demon. He did anyway…” they frowned.

“Either way, he’ll see me taking initiative.” They stood up straighter at that.

“If Crowley is in trouble, I’m sure he’ll want to help. And if he’s up to something diabolical, we’ll thwart him! “

They nodded and looked excited now.

“Brilliant. You know, it’s wise to be on the Supreme Archangel’s good side…”

They paused and held the Bible to their chest.

“Wait, but if I let you burn a book..”

“Supreme what?” Miles demanded.

“I swear it won’t burn, I swear.” Bethany stepped forward with her hand out.

“Let me prove it.”

…….

“Does your lot always conduct their business that high up?” Crowley was standing with Diedra, at the base of the Eiffel Tower.

There were no tourists or guards within a hundred yards of them, as Sheila demanded he make happen.

“She’s keen on dramatics, I’m afraid.” Diedra watched his upturned face and sighed.

“Sheila wants the other covens to be looking down at the Earth, when she makes you demonstrate your power to them.”

“Hm. Very theatrical.” Crowley gave her a sideways glance and caught her staring.

Diedra’s eyes fell to the ground. Crowley didn’t take any pride in her infatuation. In fact, he felt bad for the girl.

Like Bethany, Diedra was young and smart. It was too late for her though.

Satan didn’t release a witch’s soul, once it was promised to Him. It was a pet project of His, to collect them.

Regardless, Crowley’s hands were tied to his own plan. He pushed on with drawing her in.

“Don’t tell anyone…but I’m afraid of heights.” He softly admitted.

“Psh, no you’re not.” Diedra giggled and almost shoved him, but snatched her hand back.

“It’s true! I may as well admit it to someone, before I’m not myself anymore.” Crowley replied and lit another cigarette.

He inhaled deeply, before passing the cigarette to Diedra. Her eyes widened as she took it between trembling fingers.

“I can handle roof tops and such, but…” Crowley blew a cloud out with his words.

“….the big heights. Tourist heights. Nah.”

Diedra wasn’t a smoker, so she put the cigarette to her lips and pretended to take the smoke into her lungs.

“Why would someone like you be afraid of heights? Why would you be afraid of anything?”

“The answer to those questions is the same.” Crowley shrugged and took the cigarette back.

“God is the only reason to be afraid of anything. She’s a frightening bitch.”

“She?” Deidra whispered.

“She pushed me and I fell so far and for so long, I can’t even use a ladder, unless someone is holding on to it.”

This statement caused Diedra to tear up.

“Why did she push you?” She gently asked.

Crowley flicked ash and passed the cigarette back.

“Because she created me to be able to ask questions…and I asked them.”

The late morning sun dimmed and it started raining slightly, but neither of them moved to shelter.

“That doesn’t seem fair.” Diedra spoke softly and looked up at the clouds.

“I thought God was all loving and blah blah blah…”

“She gave her creations a very different idea of what love is.” Crowley explained.

“Why She’d do such a thing, no one will ever know.”

They stood in silence, their hair and clothes gradually soaking up the rain.

“So, why’d you get put on pet sitter duty?” Crowley lightened his tone and barely elbowed her.

Diedra flushed dark red and rubbed her arm where he’d touched her.

“Everyone else is busy.” She explained.

“Sheila said she told you to listen to me and do as I say for the day. So, I wouldn’t have anything to be afraid of…”

“I wouldn’t hurt you, either way.” Crowley let his voice drop an octave.

Diedra broke out in goosebumps that she hoped he assumed were from the rain.

“Would you want to go somewhere, after the festivities tonight?” Crowley asked her.

“I doubt your master will have much time for either of us, once people start sucking up to her.”

“She’s not my master. She’s…s…she’s just…” Diedra was stammering over his request.

“W…where would you want to go…with me?”

“There’s a lovely graveyard, near a certain church I know.” Crowley motioned for her to follow him under the tower, to finally hide from the rain.

“Witches and demons have that in common, I think. We hate churches, but their graveyards are to die for.”

Chapter Text

“You don’t even have to explain anything to him. It’s all in here.”

Bethany sealed her well-written letter, inked onto Aziraphale’s nicest stationary, and held it out to Muriel.

“Oh, I can’t take that Upstairs.” Muriel set the unharmed Bible on the desk, and held up their hands.

“I’m sorry. I would, but there is a strict “no material object” rule in place. It’s always been in place, but they’re enforcing it dramatically, ever since…” they trailed off.

“Ever since what?” Miles threw his hands up in exasperation. Atticus lightly smacked his arm.

“What? Seriously, what? Where is “Upstairs”? What is an archangel and how the fuck can a place not have materials…?”

Muriel took a step back at his angry tone.

“Ignore him, please.” Bethany gently grabbed Muriel by the shoulders and stood between them and Miles.

“We haven’t slept much these past few days. Or eaten since last night…”

She took a deep breath, still not believing what she was about ask.

“Upstairs is Heaven, isn’t it?”

Muriel nodded, despite Miles’ loud scoff.

“And Aziraphale is an angel, isn’t he?” Beth went on.

“Well, he’s THE angel.” Muriel corrected her with small laugh.

“There are only two ranks over him in Heaven, and one of those is God. So, he’s kind of a big deal…”

“Ok, so…could he allow you to present the letter to him? If he knows what it’s about, surely his title grants him…”

“Oh no, no. It’s not his rule and not his place.” Muriel looked frightened and shook their head.

“He’d get in even worse trouble than me, I’m afraid. And that would involve me having an audience with him, which isn’t allowed…”

“Why isn’t it allowed?” Atticus asked.

“It sounds like he’s a prisoner up there.”

Muriel’s frightened look didn’t fade.

“It does, doesn’t it? Gabriel never had those limits placed on him…”

“Gabriel? Like…the Gabriel that frightened the shit out of Virgin Mary?” Miles interrupted again, just as angrily.

Atticus raised his eyebrow at him.

“What? We met in Sunday school.” Miles rolled his eyes.

“And we all celebrate Christmas every year. You can’t help but hear that stupid story.”

He made a face and did sarcastic quotation marks with his fingers.

“Immaculate conception”. More like Mary cheated and got caught, then boom…a cult following disguised as a religion.”

Muriel winced at this blasphemy and changed the subject.

“I could maybe wait out side his door, on the off chance he comes out.” They hesitantly spoke to Bethany.

“I don’t do much up there these days. Until it’s time for me to visit the shop….”

“Do you think you could memorize the whole story? At least the important bits?” Beth wrung her hands with worry.

“For a while, yes. But by the time he comes out, I can’t promise anything. He disappears for months at a time…”

“Months?” Bethany collapsed in Aziraphale’s chair and let her face fall to her hands.

“We don’t have months. Crowley has already done something to the food here, and who knows what else since we stepped in this bookshop…”

“Is Heaven aware of what he’s been doing?” Atticus asked Muriel.

“I mean, surely someone up there sees all this suffering. They’re not the least bit curious about who is causing it?”

“Well, not if Crowley no longer belongs to Hell.” Muriel shook their head.

“Now he’s just another human weapon, and those don’t set off alarms in Heaven.”

“Soooo, no one is watching unless one of you people is involved?” Miles demanded.

“That’s right. It’s not necessarily our business how humans utilize their free will.” Muriel shrugged.

“Why worry about what you can’t control? That’s what Gabriel would say at office meetings.”

They pouted.

“I don’t think that’s how it’s meant to work, but…”

“Look…” Miles stomped over to the desk and started digging through things.

“Give me your hand.” He ordered Muriel and approached them with a pen.

Muriel did so without thinking, they were so used to being given commands.

“This is the only important part, according to you. So this is all you need to remember…”

Miles snatched Muriel’s hand and started writing on it.

When he finished, Muriel mouthed the words he’d written, before presenting them to Bethany.

“CROWLEY IN TROUBLE!!!” In all capital letters and too many exclamation marks.

……..

“You’ll just have to try again. And again. We have all the time in the world.”

The Metatron was speaking as a giant projected head, once more.

Azirphale actually preferred this form, because it meant his boss wasn’t technically in the room with him.

“Of course l’ll do as I’m ordered, but the young man seems quite set in his answer.” Aziraphale replied for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Which is His right, I’ll remind you.” He stated in a rare expression of defiance.

“Our Lord gave Jesus a mortal form, so He’d have a mortal’s free will.”

He stood up straighter and maintained eye contact with the Metatron.

“If the Second Coming is not done out of love for mankind, then it must not happen. To do so is to go against what is written.”

“So, your claim is that Jesus doesn’t love mankind? Even though such a fact as also been written?” The Metatron didn’t miss a beat.

Aziraphale bit his tongue to keep from snapping with his next words.

Every conversation with this big head ended up going around in a circle. Like all his thoughts up here.

“It’s not my place or yours to question what God has said. But we’re both, equally, tip toeing that line.” He explained.

Aziraphale watched the Metatron’s brow furrow and had a moment of fear. Still, he pressed on.

“It can only be Jesus’s decision and His alone. And…” he sighed and finally looked away.

“And?” The Metatron practically shouted.

Aziraphale flinched and cursed himself for being so jumpy.

“And…He’s scared. He’s just scared.” He answered.

“It’s difficult to return to a place where you’ve experienced so much pain. Especially when it’s for the sake of saving those that hurt you.”

“But it’s what He was created for.” The Metatron coldly insisted.

“He was created to make the right decision and His mother has made it clear what that decision is.”

“Well, perhaps She should speak with him.” Aziraphale let out a frustrated laugh.

“Or with any one of us, besides you.”

The atmosphere in the room became suddenly and overwhelmingly heavy. Aziraphale gasped as he dropped to his knees and struggled to stay up right.

Without a body, he couldn’t feel the pain of being crushed. But his fear was no less palpable.

“You forgot yourself for a moment there, didn’t you?” The Metatron’s mouth didn’t move, choosing instead to project his voice into Aziraphale’s head.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He thought back, unable to speak himself.

“Her patience is endless, but mine is not!” The Metatron boomed.

“This is why God allows me to do my job! I get things done, while She takes a long, well deserved rest…”

“I understand…” Aziraphale started.

“Have you ever created…everything?” The Metatron demanded.

“No. No you haven’t, so you cannot begin to understand how exhausted your Mother is!”

Aziraphale was released at this, the intolerable pressure lifted off him as fast as it knocked him down.

“I said I understand.” He stood and moved to straighten his bow tie out of habit.

No bow tie. Only this corporate gray tie he’s been wearing for a year now.

“You didn’t like what happened just now, did you?” The Metatron’s tone became lighthearted.

Aziraphale shook his head and looked towards the door. Yet another pointless meeting that could have been an email…

“The threat of punishment gets things done, doesn’t it?” The Metatron went on.

“It certainly shut you up. I even received an apology from you.”

Aziraphale didn’t look at him, out for fear of the Metatron seeing the fury in his eyes.

“I suggest, the next time you speak with Jesus, you keep the feeling of being threatened in mind.”

Aziraphale did look up at that, quickly realizing what was expected of him now.

“You want me to threaten the Messiah? What right do either of us have…what power?”

“None whatsoever.” The Metatron agreed.

“Not against Him, but against those humans He’s meant to love so much. That YOU love so much…”

Aziraphale didn’t let him finish his sentence, before heading for the exit. If he stayed, he’d get himself in even more trouble with his words.

“Just keep the feeling in mind!” The Metatron called after him.

“And describe it to Him in vivid detail!”

Chapter Text

“Make your hair longer. Like when we first met.”

Sheila was in an expensive hotel room, sitting at a vanity to try on her assortment of earrings.

“We never actually had the pleasure of meeting, back then.” Crowley spoke from his place on the couch.

“You just followed me around like a creep for three years. We never spoke, until you failed to spiritually hogtie me.”

Sheila chose large, white pearls and turned to him with a warm smile.

“Our first date.” She giggled at her own sarcasm.

Crowley made no effort to hide his grimace.

“Oh, cheer up. There is a lesson in being bested. As much as there was a lesson in my own, delayed victory.”

“What lessons have we been taught, exactly?”

Crowley wasn’t allowed his sunglasses, when they were alone, so he couldn’t hide his constant anger.

“Well, I’ve learned that, when I think I’ve failed at something, the universe is actually making way for something better.”

Shiela walked over to him and stood uncomfortably close. Crowley didn’t move, knowing she’d force him back anyway.

“And you’ve learned that you’re not nearly as important to anyone as you thought you were.”

She lightly ran her fingers down the scar of her name along his throat. Crowley couldn’t help but recoil.

“Come now, darling.” Sheila’s cold voice didn’t match her words.

“No one in Heaven or Hell gives a damn what you do anymore. If they did, I’d have already lost you, one way or the other.”

Crowley glared up at her.

“I’m all you have left.” Sheila went on.

“Life will be much more pleasant for you, if we get along. Especially tonight.”

She walked over to the room’s bar and started pouring them both drinks.

“See? With me, you may have food, alcohol…physical pleasure.” She smirked at him as she dropped an ice cube in a glass.

“Everyone you and I come in contact with will die someday. Immortality is the one thing I’ll not ask you to pass out among the rabble.”

She poured him far too much scotch for one person, before strolling back to him.

“We both risk loneliness with this rule. So, I’d prefer it if my life partner is a pleasant and genuine creature, who enjoys my company.”

“Life partner?” Crowley gagged and had a full body shiver.

Sheila’s smile fell as she handed him his drink.

“I don’t mean that romantically.” She sneered.

“My standards don’t allow my taking a demon as a lover. I may as well bed a cockroach.”

She sipped her own drink, before setting it on the coffee table and addressing him in an authoritative tone.

“My cockroach will watch his mouth in front of my new coven. Won’t he?”

Crowley knew his sarcasm had a mind of it’s own, so he made no promises.

“Why not give me a script to learn? Or force me to say whatever you want?” He demanded.

“Because there is no fun in having a completely mindless companion.” Sheila stepped away to admire her dress in the mirror.

“It says far more about me if you’re domesticated by your own choice, rather than force.”

“Domesticated?” Crowley’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“That’s what you’re calling this?”

“Yes.” Sheila simply answered.

“Your behavior this evening will directly effect how much of yourself you get to keep, going forward.”

She gave him a grossly pleasant smile.

“Just keep that in mind, yes? For your own future wellbeing.”

……..

“Run.”

Aziraphale had just left The Metatron’s office, and was standing at one end of a long, blank hallway.

At the other end, this hallway opened up to one of Earth’s lobbies, and the elevators therein.

“Run. Just run and don’t look back.” His thoughts persuaded his feet to take several fast steps.

Aziraphale stopped almost halfway to his escape.

Without a racing heart or lungs to hyperventilate with, it was difficult to have a grasp on how afraid he actually was.

But his endless thoughts were in pure panic mode.

He was completely still, chasing these thoughts down every possible pathway in his mind.

“There is no escape. Heaven’s reach travels as far as I could.”

“But Beezlebub and Gabriel made it out. They’re happy somewhere and free…I could be free.”

“No, the only reason they made it was because Heaven and Hell didn’t want draw to attention to the huge flaw within their systems.”

“Crowley. I could take him to Alpha Centauri. If he’ll even speak with me…we could go. Just for a little while, until they kill us both…”

“Run! Just run!”

Aziraphale knew all the extra rules and security placed on him, was to prevent another exposure of the institutional problems the last Supreme Archangel had exposed.

The moment he stepped foot in an elevator, alarms would go off. They’d snatch him and shove him back in his office…

His power up here was an illusion. A mere title that held him to unreasonable standards.

A gilded jail.

“Sir! Hello!” A cheerful voice pulled him out of his stupor.

“What? Yes? What is it?” Aziraphale turned to see a group of lesser angels walking towards him.

They were dressed in uniforms meant for designers, and toting large rolls of paper.

“We were on our way to see you!”

The group encompassed him, forcing Aziraphale to walk with them, just as he heard the distinctive gong of an elevator in use.

“We’re debating having the Messiah’s statues formed in gold. The look is right, but you run into golden calf comparisons, which isn’t fair but…

The lesser angels chattered on with their silly plans, something Aziraphale had learned to tune out.

He managed a glance over his shoulder, to see who was stepping out of the elevator.

A petite angel with a familiar face…

Muriel made eye contact with him at the exact moment he recognized them.

They both froze, causing one of the designers to run into Aziraphale’s back and drop their papers.

He ignored their apologies and scrambling to pick up their things, while the other angels chastised them.

He was too busy watching his assistant book keeper hurrying towards him.

Muriel had their finger over their mouth to shush him. Their eyes were wide and their hand was extended.

They’d written something on that hand…

Chapter Text

“CROWLEY IN TROUBLE!!!”

Aziraphale didn’t doubt for a second that he’d read that right.

Fear, unlike anything he’d just experienced with the Metatron, settled on his mind.

If he’d had a body, his knees and stomach would have given up. He’d have fallen to the ground and puked.

But, since he was incorporeal, he managed to stay calm.

He managed not to snatch Muriel and demand answers, but only because they were surrounded by other angels.

Muriel waited for confirmation that Aziraphale read their message, the briefest nod, before running off to wipe their hand clean.

Aziraphale couldn’t begin to imagine what could have convinced them to risk so much for a demon, unless the situation was dire.

He had carefully dismissed himself from the meeting that had started around him, and casually walked to his office.

The moment he was out of sight, however, he’d booked it here as fast as he could.

“What’s wrong?” Evangeline voiced her concern, when her boss barreled in the room and slammed the door behind himself.

……

“You need to leave!” Aziraphale had never shouted at her before, but he was now.

She watched him rush to the window and almost thrust the curtains open, but he stopped himself at the last second and faced her.

“Please, Eva! I’m sorry, but you need to get out! Just for now…”

“What’s wrong?” Evangeline fluttered off Aziraphale’s desk and landed in front of him.

“Whatever it is, maybe I can help…”

“No! You can’t…you…you wouldn’t understand!” Aziraphale covered his mouth with both hands a turned back towards the curtains.

“No, please leave! Please, I just…I can’t even…even if I…”

Evangeline picked up on what was wrong and slowly approached him.

“There’s something wrong on Earth?” She voiced it as a question, but she already knew.

“No! No, of course not! How would I even…know such a thing?” Aziraphale wasn’t fooling anyone with the way he was staring at the window.

“Someone…something is wrong with someone on Earth?” Evangeline quickly deduced.

Aziraphale finally looked at her. Her friend’s eyes were terrified and panicked.

“Yes.” he whispered.

“Please. Please allow me to check on them…”

“Of course!” Evangeline rushed over to open the blinds herself.

“Wait!” Aziraphale stepped between her and the only view he had of his home.

“We might see…what if what we see isn’t exactly, Heaven’s business?” Evangeline saw his hands shaking, an impossible thing to consciously achieve up here.

“As a Watcher, anything I witness is no one’s business but my own and God’s.” She comforted him and motioned to the curtains.

“And God isn’t speaking to me anymore.”

“Can you swear to me?” Aziraphale couldn’t read anything in those pits for eyes.

“The Metatron…if he even found out this window still works….

Because surely, his boss had no idea the view Aziraphale had of Earth. It had to be an over-site on someone’s part, when they gave him Gabriel’s old office.

“The Metatron can’t see what’s right in front of his face. What’s actually important. ”

Evangeline opened the curtains for him.

“The one thing I’ve learned from watching how humans comfort one another, is what’s important.”

……..

“I recognize that woman.’” Aziraphale was clutching the windowsill, trying to make sense of the situation Crowley had found himself in.

He felt a rush of relief to see him in one piece.

“My friend there had some trouble with her, a decade or so ago. He asked for my help, but he didn’t provide me with details.”

The human in question, the one Azirphale had gone slightly overboard on with a sleep miracle, was dressed in a tight black dress and had long brown hair.

He’d never even learned her name. Crowley had treated the situation as a mere annoyance.

It was clear now, it had been something much more serious.

Crowley was standing next to this woman, dressed in black as well and hiding his eyes, as usual.

Appearing casual and unbothered.

However, Aziraphale was still so in tune with his body language, he could tell how stressed his friend actually was.

Even without understanding what was happening, Aziraphale couldn’t blame him. He’d be stressed too, if there were twenty women staring at him like that.

It was nighttime in Paris, and they appeared to be holding a meeting of sorts. Held in a high up place Aziraphale recalled visiting, on a more pleasant day.

Was Crowley leading these women? He was speaking down to the one with long brown hair…

The illusion of Crowley having any control of the situation disappeared with what happened next.

The brown haired woman stepped forward and seemed to talk back. Whatever she said, her words incapacitated him.

Aziraphale saw Crowley struggle to remain stoic, until he clutched at his throat and sank to his knees.

“Who is he?” He barely heard The Watcher ask.

“That’s the man in your drawing. He’s real?”

Aziraphale could only watch Crowley tear at his own clothes. His glasses falling off when he collapsed on the ground.

The women were laughing at him.

Witches.

“I need to go to Earth.” Aziraphale kept his tone calm, but Evangeline could feel rage pouring from him.

“You’ll need a body.” She stepped back and hurried towards the office door.

“Come on! Do as I say and don’t ask questions!”

…….

“It’s such a handsome thing, if it’s real.”

Crowley was being paraded in front of a group of coven leaders. These women had flown in overnight, to witness Sheila’s claims for themselves.

“It’s real. Aren’t you, Crowley?” Sheila was riding high on all the attention.

The most powerful witches alive, were about to bow to her. They didn’t even know it yet.

Crowley sighed and looked down off the Eiffel Tower. The view up here was magnificent…too bad the fall wouldn’t kill him.

He hadn’t lied about being afraid of heights, but his plans for this evening made that fear seem irrelevant.

“Of course I’m real. I’m standing here, aren’t I?”

The doubting witch scoffed, but she took a step back when Crowley looked at her.

He spared all the women a glance. Glimmer magic no longer worked on them either.

While he didn’t consider being old as a negative, these crones didn’t pull it off well.

“Listen, grannies. You’re better off just going along with this. Otherwise, she’ll make me prove it to you.”

He jabbed his head at Sheila and reached for his cigarette box. Fuck, she’d taken them.

“Goddammit.”

“Blasphemy is a wonderful quality, young man. But it’s not enough to convince us.” One of the women joked.

Crowley found Diedra in the crowd. She could tell he was looking at her, even through the sunglasses.

She gave him an apologetic shrug, while the other witches tittered.

“I think proof is reasonable, before I make any requests.”

Sheila daintily stepped in front of him and addressed them all.

“Tell me, who amongst you is the most powerful? I already know the answer, but we must all be in agreement.”

All eyes turned to the eldest looking woman in the audience. Crowley thought she looked like an old tree stump, underneath the illusions.

“Well, I don’t know about that.” The woman giggled like a girl, which was disturbing if you knew what she actually looked like.

Crowley didn’t mask his disgust, until he felt Sheila’s gaze upon him.

He straightened up and smiled at the thing in front of him.

“Aren’t you a little spring daisy? Does your mother know you’re here, young lady?”

The witch glowered at him, seeing through his sarcasm.

“I could use that tongue of yours for a spell, do you realize that? I swear that’s the only thing men are good for nowadays…”

“It’s not a man, Madam Madder.” Sheila corrected her.

“Crowley is a demon. A demon more powerful than anything you’ve summoned in your attic.”

“I don’t work out of my attic….”

“And it’ll prove it to you. Right now.” Sheila interrupted her.

She turned to Crowley and smiled sweetly at him. Her voice quivered with eager anticipation.

“Dearest, I need you to kill Madam Madder.”

“What?” Crowley scoffed like she was joking.

The witches laughed as well…save for Madam Madder.

“What was that? Surely…?”

Shiela put her hand up to silence her competitor.

“Crowley, it’s your choice, remember? Prove to me that you’re on my side, and you’ll always have a say in our plans…”

“We don’t have plans!” Crowley took a few steps towards her.

“You just lucked into capturing me, I’m not on your side…”

“Crowley, does that body need oxygen?” Sheila coldly interrupted him as well.

Crowley ran his hands down himself and looked confused.

“It prefers it.”

“I order you to stop breathing.” Sheila casually admired her nails when she said this.

Crowley immediately did as she said. His last breath stopped halfway into his lungs and stayed there.

Luckily, while he preferred to breath in this form, he didn’t need to. He just switched off that part of his brain…

“I order you to suffer from it.” Sheila added.

Chapter Text

“Killing humans was never my modus operandi.” Crowley’s voice was hoarse from suffocating for so long.

“Modus operandi?” Diedra leaned in close enough to speak over the lame party music.

“It’s Latin. Don’t you all know Latin?” Crowely hadn’t taken his eyes off Sheila, waiting for his chance.

He and Diedra were sitting at an otherwise empty table, at Sheila’s “after party”, in the hotel’s ballroom.

This party consisted of lots of waiting, while Sheila stepped into an unused conference room, to negotiate with the other coven heads.

Each of these leaders had brought ten members from their respective covens, so the room reeked of wet ash.

Wet ash and the tea sandwiches the women nibbled on, while glaring at one another. It was the definition of a bad party.

“If it’s any consolation, Madam Madder barely counts as a human.” Diedra tried to comfort him.

Crowley was already shaking his head, refusing to be comforted.

“She was evil.” Diedra went on.

“If you only knew…”

“I’m fine. I’ve killed Nazis.” Crowley shrugged.

“I’ve encouraged humans to kill Nazis too…which is always an act of self defense, if you think about it.”

He grabbed the bottle of wine he’d made it halfway through. He focused on drinking it, to avoid seeing that old dead woman in his mind.

Splayed out at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Sheila petting him. Telling him what good job he’d done…

The memory made him want to heave.

“She was torturing you.” Diedra glanced around, to make sure no one was in hearing distance.

“And then she forced to…you made it painless, right? You did the best you could.”

Crowley held his hand up to silence her. Still refusing any excuses for himself.

Sheila stood up from her own table, to lead yet another witch into a private meeting. She smiled at him and gestured around the room.

“Make yourself known.” The motion said.

Sheila had already pushed him into introductions and pointless small talk with her new underlings.

Showing him off, and notifying them all that he was set to protect her at a moment’s notice.

Something she was so confident in, that she allowed a door to stand between them.

Overconfidence was always a witch’s downfall. Crowley had witnessed it dozens of times over the years.

The moment that door shut, he put his plan into action.

“Let’s get out of here for a while.” He spoke lowly to Diedra.

“Now?” She whispered back, looking frightened but thrilled at the same time.

Crowley knew his temptation had taken hold on her by now, because she’d wanted it to. The girl would follow him anywhere, if he used the proper lure.

“Yes. I don’t do well with feelings. Emotions, anyway.” He pushed his glasses down and grinned at her.

“You in that dress, surrounded by death and illuminated by a sky full of stars…could be a nice distraction.”

“The graveyard?” Diedra tucked her hair back and glanced at the exit.

“It’s close by. Come now, she knows I’m in good hands. You’re just taking her pet for a walk.” Crowley encouraged.

He knew that wasn’t the least bit true.

Sheila would be infuriated, the moment she realized he’d disappeared, with the last attractive witch in her ever growing coven.

He could only pray he found holy water, before she found them.

Diedra was convinced before all the words were out of his mouth. They left their table and snuck along the room’s edge, to the only other door.

“Oh, yuck! What the hell is that?” Crowley let out a hissing whisper, as a rank smell struck his nose.

“Sheila’s salt. She laid it to keep you in here.” Diedra motioned into the doorway.

On the carpet, there was what appeared to be regular table salt, dotted with pieces of herbs and small bones.

“Does it stink? I don’t smell anything…” Diedra whispered.

Crowley gagged and turned away. Cursed salt? That shit actually worked on demons?

It hurt his eyes just looking at it. Even through his sunglasses.

“Can you do something about it, love?” He begged, holding his nose and making sure no one was looking at them.

“Please and thank you.”

Diedra immediately dropped to her knees and started dusting the salt out of his way.

“You’re getting your nice dress dirty.” Crowley halfheartedly teased.

“Maybe I should take it off?” Diedra popped back up, grinning and pleased with herself that she’d insured his escaped.

Yeah, humans were still helpless against him. For now.

“Follow me.” He didn’t respond to her flirting and led the way out of the hotel.

……..

“You were right. It’s beautiful here.” Diedra slowly spun in a circle, taking everything in.

“I told you.” Crowley strolled with her through the graveyard with his hands in his pockets.

“I used to come here a lot in the eighties. Everything was so neon back then and I just needed some gloom.”

“Wow, you really are old.” Diedra teased him. She had the giggles something terrible.

“I’m so old, it barely counts anymore.” Crowley mused.

“It’s the same as admitting you have a crush on the universe. Who cares after a certain point?”

He was gradually making his way to the large, Catholic church that overlooked the cemetery.

It would be locked this time of night, but that was an easy fix. He knew exactly where to send Diedra, to grab what he needed.

He just had to pick the right moment to ask her.

“Who says I have a crush on you?” Diedra stopped in front of Crowley and crossed her arms.

Her fake defiance was cute and she knew it.

“Tell me you don’t and I’ll believe you.” Crowley shrugged and gently pushed her shoulder, so she’d back up.

Diedra kept going a few steps, until her back was flat against the side of the church.

Crowley forgot himself for a moment and tried to lean over her, using the wall for support.

The church’s bricks immediately scorched his bare hand.

He yanked it back with a stifled yelp, and tried his best to keep looking seductive. His palm felt like he’d shoved it in a campfire, but the pain quickly faded.

Crowley had hoped against hope that “consecrated grounds” wouldn’t count against him anymore, but no such luck.

He technically still belonged to Hell, because Shiela belonged to Hell. The stupid bitch…

His thoughts were interrupted by Diedra climbing him like a tree and kissing him.

“Woah, ok! Hold on!” Crowley’s words were muffled against her mouth.

Diedra almost broke his back, attempting to bend him down to her level.

Welp, his temptation worked a bit too well. Hopefully she wasn’t to distracted to be manipulated further.

“Love the eagerness, doll, but you’re too short to be making the first move.”

Crowley took Diedra’s face in his hands and kissed her like no human man could even attempt to.

He felt her knees turn to jelly, so he casually pulled her into his arms to hold her up. She gripped his back and whimpered into his mouth.

Ugh, those little sandwiches she ate at the party must have had onions on them…

Crowley released Diedra’s lips and looked down at her doe eyed expression. That red hair was already a mess.

He really could bag the prettiest humans, if he cared to. Even if this one happened to be a kindling witch.

“Up we go. Come on darling.” Crowley easily picked Diedra up, so her legs were wrapped around his waist, and carried her off.

He didn’t always feel like a lousy, no good demon, but he certainly did right now.

Chapter Text

“Let’s leave those on.” Crowley had to pry Diedra off his face, as she attempted to remove his sunglasses.

“These things tend to be a mood killer.” He pointed at his eyes and faked a sheepish smile.

“Not to me. I like everything about you…” Diedra moved on to insistently kissing his neck.

“I even like how cold your lips are.”

“Of course you do.” Crowley assured her, and rolled his eyes.

Demonically enticed humans were so needy and delusional.He had this one propped on someone’s tomb, and was standing between her legs.

Not that he’d have enjoyed this situation, anyway, but he was so tense with fear, he didn’t know how Diedra couldn’t tell.

Sheila could appear any moment. Surely she had some way of tracking him…

Crowley let out an embarrassingly loud shout, when Diedra suddenly grabbed his crotch.

“Okaaay Matchstick, wait…” he stepped back and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Ugh, what are you talking about, “wait”?” Diedra threw her hands up in frustration.

“Why did you bring me here, if not to…?”

“Run away with me.” Crowley ordered.

Diedra was so shocked, she didn’t notice Crowley wasn’t even looking at her. He kept staring the cemetery gate.

“What? Really?” A smile broke out on her pretty face.

“Yes, I’ve never met anyone like you. Your beauty has made me realize this endless life is worth living, blah blah blah…” Crowley barely tried to lie.

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go and we’ll live happily ever after.”

“Can we go to America?” Diedra gushed and excitedly clasped her hands.

“Wherever you like, but I need you to do something for me first.” Crowley took a steadying breath.

“Anything.” Diedra cooed and took his face in her hands.

“We won’t make it far. Not if I still belong to Sheila.” Crowley explained.

“Oh…right.” Diedra scowled. She’d been so caught up in things, she forgot how dire their situation was.

Crowley looked down at the ground and summoned all his acting abilities. Which weren’t as impressive as one would think, unless he was faking cockiness.

The sunglasses were helpful though, when it came to bullshitting.

“I need Holy water.” He slowly looked back at her.

“And I need you to go in this church and get it for me.”

“But…doesn’t that stuff hurt you?” Diedra asked.

She gently touched the scarring on his throat.

“Sheila said it kills demons, if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Typically, yes.” Crowley admitted.

“But now, it’s the only thing that will break Sheila’s hold on me.”

He took another deep breath and prepared to lie.

“If I use it now, it will only destroy her binds. It will burn them, but I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Oh.”

Crowley watched Diedra’s struggle in real time. She knew that his lie didn’t make sense, but he had quite the spiritual grasp on her…

“Where is it? Like, where do they even keep something like that?”

Crowley sighed with relief. She was allowing herself to be fooled.

“It’s stored in small bottles and kept in the head priest’s office.” He explained.

“In an unlocked cabinet, behind a red curtain.”

The only reason he knew this was because he’d tried his damndest to rob several churches of their holy water, before Aziraphale finally relented and gifted him some.

“The bottles are square, white plastic. They used to be labeled with a black cross, but it’s been so long that may have changed.”

“What do they use it for?” Diedra slid off the tomb and adjusted her clothes.

“Blessings and on call exorcisms, I assume.” Crowley started walking and motioned for her to follow him.

…….

“Atta girl…oops.” Crowley cringed over the loud thump of Diedra landing hard on the church’s floor.

They’d found an unlocked window to try sneaking in, rather than being tracked by miracling any of the locked doors open.

She’d trusted him to lift her on his shoulders and through said window…

“I think you broke my nose!”

“The floor broke your nose!” Crowley called back.

“We’re in a hurry, Matchstick, but I apologize for the over enthusiasm!” He tapped one of the black heels he was holding against the wall.

“Your shoes and I will be right here when you get back and I’ll heal your poor nose right up!”

Crowley spoke kindly, but his eyes were darting about the graveyard. He sensed he was being hunted, and it was not pleasant.

“Off you go, love! Please…”

“I’m going! Hey look, Jesus crackers!” Crowley heard a giggle from the window and ducked when a white box flew over his head.

“Diedra!” He finally shouted and almost stomped on the communion wafers.

“I’m going! I’m gone!” He heard her voice getting further away as she left that room to explore the church.

“There it is!”

Crowley whipped around at an unfamiliar voice.

He saw one of the witches from the party rushing towards him from the open gate.

Her gray hair was flying behind her and she’d taken off her own heels to join the demon hunt.

Her bare feet were caked with filth and she looked remarkably like a hag raven Crowley had seen on a book cover once.

“Sheila! It’s here! Cr…!”

Crowley didn’t think, before throwing Diedra’s sharp shoes at the witch, as hard as he could.

His throwing arm was incredibly strong. He was a demon, after all.

The force of the shoes, slamming into her face, stopped the hag in it’s tracks.

She wailed as she was hurtled onto the ground.

Her angry screams were drowned out by Crowley’s own, as he climbed through the window after Diedra.

He could feel blisters forming where he was forced to touch the building.

He kept in his mind to snatch any gloves he came across, but the only important thing was getting the holy water.

If he pulled this off, this pain wouldn’t matter. Nothing would anymore.

…….

“It’s in here somewhere, I watched it go through the window!”

Sheila shushed the stupid witch with the bruised face and perked her ear up to listen.

They’d walked in the front door of the church, which turned out to not even be locked, and stood within it’s cathedral.

“Crowley!” She called loudly, her voice echoing through the hallways and organ pipes.

“Come to me! Now!”

No response.

Sheila knew her demon couldn’t physically ignore her. Maybe it left already…but she sensed it.

“No matter.” She huffed and removed her black, fox fur coat.

“Abigail, stop cradling your face and fetch me some graveyard dirt.” She commanded.

“Madam?” Abigail, the witch Crowley shoed, was confused.

“It’s the only thing I didn’t pack. I never assumed…Lucifer damn that idiot girl!”

Sheila cursed Diedra as she tossed her coat over a pew and angrily dug through it’s pockets, until she found what she was looking for.

Yet another small, leather case.

She opened it and removed a piece of bone dust chalk, five black candles and a vial of someone’s blood.

“Crowley will come to me, regardless of where it’s run off to.” She growled as she got to work.

Sheila bent down and began to roll up the dark, purple rug that stretched up the church’s aisle.

Beneath it lay bare, hard wood flooring. The perfect canvas.

“After it’s punished, I’ll send it to kill her itself.”

Chapter Text

“Keep twenty steps behind me.” Evangeline instructed Aziraphale, before checking the hallway to see if the coast was clear.

“Eva, um…h…how did you know how to do this?” Aziraphale was having a hard time walking at all in his new body.

Well, not “new” per say. Evangeline had put him in the exact same one he’d had on Earth. Vintage bow tie and all.

“I’ve had little to do for the last hundred years or so.” Eva explained, as she led the way out of the ‘Corporeal Storage’ room.

“So, I spent the time watching other angels perform their duties. That just required pressing a few buttons and, voila.”

She motioned to all of him and grinned. Like a child who performed well in class.

“You know ‘voila’, but you’ve never heard of Rome?” Aziraphale muttered to himself, as he held onto the wall for support.

He’d yearned to have this body back, for over a year now, but with it came all the negative effects of fear.

His poor heart was racing, his hands were sweating and he just knew he’d alert every angel in heaven, with his panicked breathing.

If they got caught, he’d be punished to the point of destruction. Evangeline may have been as well, but her calm assurance was the only reason Aziraphale agreed to this.

Surely God wouldn’t allow Her last Watcher to be destroyed. There was a reason Eva had as much freedom as she did.

Plus, the very idea of leaving Crowley at the mercy of witches, was laughable, and not in a funny way.

“Twenty steps behind. Twenty steps…”

Aziraphale tried his best to get his Earth legs back, but he couldn’t keep his eyes where he was walking.

They darted around, so sure Michael, The Metatron or any of the countless angels up here would round the corner and see him this way.

Out of his office. Corporeal. On his way to Earth.

“You’ll just pop in for a moment. Strike the fear of God into those women, give Crowley a big thumbs up and…come back before you’re missed.”

Aziraphale was walking perfectly well, suddenly. Now that his mind was focused on the next big issue.

“It’s clear.” Evangeline beckoned him down the hall far too enthusiastically, as she peeked around the corner.

Aziraphale walked faster, keeping close to the wall, until he joined her.

“What if he’s not at the Effiel Tower anymore?” He whispered.

“Where?” Evangeline pointed to the right, before leading him once more.

“What if I can’t find him?” Aziraphale whisper shouted from twenty steps back.

“If I use any Miracles they’ll know…!”

“I can grant you cover for small Miracles.” Evangeline allowed him to catch up.

“Keep them at one Lazeri and I’ll fiddle with the dials. I’ll also keep Earth surveillance occupied, they’re used to me up there…”

“Used to you?” Aziraphale made himself flat against the wall, like a secret agent.

“I like looking at Earth.” Evangeline explained.

“I’ll do it for days sometimes. And who is going to tell a Watcher they can’t watch?”

Aziraphale wasn’t comforted by her smile. She clearly thought the benefits of her title were silly.

“Could you…manage three days?” He hesitantly asked.

“Just in case? I’ll need to come up with a plan once I’m down there and…”

“Three days it is.” Evangeline agreed and skipped ahead.

Aziraphale watched her bounce away, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. When she should have had all the cares…

“Why are you helping me?” He asked, unable to contain his suspicions anymore.

While he’d grown quite fond of Evangeline, she was still a mystery.

An old friend of Gabriel’s? All his friends were awful, when he lived up here.

What if she was working for the Metatron? What if this was a test and Aziraphale was failing miserably?

Evangeline checked around the last corner. Earth’s lobby was clear of angels as well.

“I’m helping you because I’ve seen how humans react to losing someone they love.” She responded and beckoned him one last time.

“And you’re just human enough that an emotional break, that severe, would make you useless up here.”

“Oh…”

Aziraphale would have argued his “humanness”, but his chest clenched over the thought of such a break.

And he felt it this time.

He had to save Crowley. Had to try, at least. Otherwise, what was the point of anything?

“If things are ever going to change up here, we need you at your best.”

Evangeline took his hand and pulled him the rest of the way to the elevator.

“Change?” Aziraphale looked behind him, so sure he’d be stopped at the last second.

“Yep. Heaven can be what we claim to be, but not if I allow it’s strongest fighter to break.” Evangeline finished, right as the elevator doors opened.

Those words, when spoken in a child’s voice, sounded even more ridiculous to Aziraphale.

“I’m not the strongest anything…”

“See you in three days!” Evangeline giggled.

She stepped behind Aziraphale and shoved him in the elevator.

He had time to wave awkwardly, and see Evangeline wink one of her spooky eyes, before the doors closed and he was sent downwards.

……..

“Do you think they got to him?” Bethany softly asked.

“Not this soon.” Atticus spoke gently, but gave his honest opinion.

“All we can do is be patient.” He reached over and took her hand.

“Just think of it like this. We’re asking Heaven for help. They’re the good guys, ya know?”

“Are they?” Bethany scoffed and took her hand back.

“I…I mean, they’re supposed to be.” Atticus stammered.

“Hey! This guy’s food is still good!” Miles interrupted from upstairs.

“It’s just baking supplies, but it’s all in date…wow, he has a lot of jam.”

“How is that possible?” Atticus took out his phone and checked his social media.

The news was the same as the last three days. Food, all over the country, was ruined.

Either turned to ash or something disgusting.

Other countries had begun flying in supplies to help, but the moment anything edible landed on Europe’s soil, it was all the same.

Maggots and ash.

“Well…we are in an angel’s bookshop.” Bethany whispered.

Her stomach growled as she stood to make her way upstairs. Dizzy from hunger and a lack of sleep, she was ready to eat an entire jar of jam.

“I’ll make us pancakes and tea!” She called up, right as the the doors of the bookshop banged open.

“Crowley? No…who the bloody hell are you people?”

…….

Atticus rushed to stand between Bethany and this newcomer, but she shoved him out of the way.

A man was coming towards them.

A pretty blond man, with fluffy hair and fussy, vintage clothes. He even had a bow tie, which Bethany was immediately charmed by.

As angry as this guy looked, Beth could feel the room warm up and comfort flow from every corner.

As if the walls of this place missed him.

She gasped and clasped her hands to her chest.

“Aziraphale?”

The man paused a few feet away and she could tell he was trying to place her. Once he did…

“Bethany.” Aziraphale put a hand on his hip and looked her up and down, quite snootily.

“You…you know me?” Beth asked.

“Oh, I know all about you.” Aziraphale seemed to be holding some anger, towards her specifically.

He shook his head and ran upstairs, shoving past Miles on the spiral steps.

“Hey, watch it!” Miles almost shoved him back.

Aziraphale spun on his heel and glared down at him.

“You three are trespassing in my…!” He stopped again and pressed his fingers to his temples.

“I don’t have time for all this! Young lady, you know Crowley, yes?” The angel called to Beth.

He seemed to be digging through something in one of his rooms.

“I do! Yes! He and I met at…!” Bethany came after him.

“La la la! I don’t want to hear about that!" Aziraphale rudely passed her as well , after practically flying back down the steps.

“But you asked her! Who the hell are you?” Miles demanded.

“Crowley needs help!” Bethany chased after him.

“We sent Muriel! We’ve been waiting for…”

“You did that?” Aziraphale stopped at the doors, just short of opening them.

“Yes!” Bethany threw her hands up and started crying.

“Crowley is in trouble and it’s all my fault! I’m so sorry, but I’m trying to make it right!”

Aziraphale’s glare softened as he began to understand a bit. He watched the boys comfort the crying girl and forced himself to take a moment.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed aside whatever was bothering him about Bethany.

“Perhaps you should come with me.” He decided.

“Yes, of course!” Bethany and Atticus stepped forward, despite Miles shaking his head behind them.

“Do any of you know where he is?” Aziraphale’s tone was rushed.

“Not exactly, except that he’s in Paris.” Bethany wrung her hands.

“That’s the last place I thought I laid eyes on him.” Aziraphale nodded and looked scared.

“I prayed I was wrong.”

“That’s an eight hour drive…” Atticus informed him.

“Not in this.” Aziraphale jingled the car keys he acquired from upstairs.

“I saw Crowley’s car outside. I insisted he make me a copy, in case he ever lost his…”

“Does that thing even need keys?” Miles put his hands on his hips.

“It drove us all over the place without them. And the gas tank dial never moved.”

"It let you ride in it?” Aziraphale looked utterly shocked.

“Yes! And it probably knows where Crowley is!” Bethany grabbed his arm and shook him.

“It can find him!”

“Yes yes, alright! Unhand me!” Aziraphale roughly brushed her off.

“Tell me everything on the way and for God’s sake, buckle up!”

Chapter Text

“I told you to buckle up!” Aziraphale yelled at the young men in the back seat.

One of them had been flung across the other and smacked his face against the side window.

“I did!” Miles yelled back.

He managed to climb to his own seat, despite the Bentley doing, yet another, potentially life ending maneuver.

“This fucking car unbuckled my seatbelt!”

Everyone screamed, as said car lifted itself on two wheels, to squeeze between a couple of diesel trucks.

“Well, were you rude to it?” Aziraphale gripped the steering wheel and focused on conversing with the mortals.

Anything to avoid watching what Crowley’s car was barreling towards.

“Rudeness is a matter of opinion!” Miles called back. He yanked the seatbelt over his lap and clicked it in place.

“The only person it tolerates raising their voice is Crowley.” Aziraphale pat the Bentley’s steering wheel, before clutching it again for dear life.

They eased out of the turn and barely escaped death as they merged onto an open highway.

The Bentley was still going unnaturally fast, it’s speedometer was just spinning now, but the road was mostly empty.

This moment of slight ease made Aziraphale aware he was being stared at.

Bethany. The woman with blond curls and pink bedsheets.

“What?” He flatly demanded.

“Sorry!” Bethany jumped and looked forward once more.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes when she couldn’t help but look back at him.

“Are you really an angel?”

“So they say.” Aziraphale sighed.

Bethany smiled far too wide and leaned towards him.

“You’re so beautiful. And you smell wonderful! I knew what you were right away…”

Aziraphale leaned away and looked at her like she was crazy.

“Bethany.” Atticus groaned and slid down in his seat while Miles laughed.

“Ignore her.” He told Aziraphale.

“She’s big on “sincere” compliments. Point out the good in people and all that.”

“I bet you are.” Aziraphale gave Beth a forced smile.

The memory of this damn girl, kissing that damn demon, was affecting him far more on Earth.

He didn’t have time to dwell on such silly things, but his mouth was faster than his brain.

“Did we get a bit carried away with the compliments, when we met Crowley?”

Bethany faltered at that and sat back.

“I…I don’t remember.” She fiddled with her jacket sleeve and bit her lower lip.

“We spoke for hours but I can barely recall a word of it.” She explained.

Aziraphale’s muscles tensed at the image of Crowley sitting on this girl’s bed for “hours”. What could they possibly have in common enough to warrant such a long conversation?

”Muriel said he may have done a “memory wipe”? But he obviously sucks at that type of thing because I still remember….bits.”

Aziraphale huffed, assuming for a moment that she was lying. Crowley was skilled, when it came to miracles.

Unless he was distracted…

“Where are your wings?” Bethany got close to him once more and changed the subject.

“Crowley’s were black, are yours? Or is that because he’s a demon?”

“No! He just likes them that way!” Aziraphale exclaimed, too aggressively.

“You saw his wings? What on Earth were you two up to?”

“Good question.” Atticus grumbled.

“I saw them too.” Miles chimed in.

“A couple of our roommates did as well, right before the bloke flew out the window.”

“Flew out the…? What?” Aziraphale didn’t bother holding on to the wheel anymore.

“And how many people live with you? What was Crowley doing there?”

He completely turned in his seat to face Beth and crossed his arms.

“I sent you to protect him! Not to take him to your hovel and chase him out a window!”

“Sent me?” Bethany matched Aziraphale’s tone.

“Hovel?” Atticus finally laughed.

……

“Do you want to explain yourself before snipping at me?” Bethany had a look of sudden revelation.

”It seems you’re the one with all the power here, so what right do you have to get short with me?”

Aziraphale snapped his mouth shut and faced forward once more.

“What do you mean you “sent me”?” Bethany wouldn’t let him off the hook.

“W…well, perhaps “sent” was the wrong word. It was more of a…push?” Aziraphale tried to speak casually.

“A persuasion, as it were. You wouldn’t have done it unless there was a part of you that would want to…”

Bethany stared at him for a long moment, her face slowly scrunching into a scowl.

“You were the voice in my head!”

“Easy! Please, I just got these back!” Aziraphale rubbed the ear she’d just shouted in.

“This is all your fault! All of it!” Bethany slapped his arm over and over.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Why are you so comfortable touching people?” Aziraphale swatted her back but not nearly as hard.

“Bethany! He’s an angel!” Atticus started to unbuckle, as if he’d possibly be able to do anything.

“He’ll smite you!”

“Oh, I’ll do no such thing!” Aziraphale grabbed Beth’s wrists and easily held her at bay.

“Listen, missy! You may, possibly, have a right to be upset, but I am driving here!”

“I may have a right?” Bethany struggled against him, to no avail.

“You messed with my free will! I thought it was Crowley, but it was you!”

Aziraphale released her at that and she flew back in her seat.

“I only reached out to Sheila to get answers! To track Crowley down and demand to know what he did to me!” She was seething now, but also on the brink of tears.

“You “persuaded” me, and he fucked with my memory! Why? What’s wrong with you two?”

“A lot, apparently.” Aziraphale shrank down at her words.

“It’s a long story. Too long but I do, sincerely apologize.”

Bethany raised her eyebrows and shrugged at him.

“So what?” The move said.

“Who is Sheila?” Aziraphale asked.

Bethany was glaring out the window now and refused to answer.

“Good lord.” Aziraphale muttered.

“Look, I can assure you, there was no ill intent. I was just…I was just worried for my friend.” He explained.

“Oh yeah! Hey, why are you friends with a demon, anyway?” Miles asked from the back seat.

“Aren’t you like, natural born enemies and whatnot?”

Aziraphale ignored him.

“What if I fixed your memory? Would that ease some of…well…all this?” He motioned to all of Bethany.

“Uh, yeah!” Bethany scoffed at him like he was dumb.

“And you’ll tell me everything you may know about Crowley’s situation?”

“Maybe.” Bethany shrugged and looked back out the window.

“Right. Barely a Miracle, really. A quick fix…” Aziraphale sighed.

He pulled a small amount of power from Heaven and tossed it at Bethany.

……

Bethany wasn’t ready. Her brain felt like it jolted in her skull, as she was hit with a wave of memories.

“Holy…Jesus Christ…” she whispered and slid down in her seat, clutching her head.

“What about Him?” Aziraphale sounded confused, until he looked at her.

“Ah, I imagine that’s overwhelming…”

Bethany was too busy remembering to hear him.

Flashes of Crowley, pacing her room. Getting drunk on her bed and just talking and talking.

Talking about the past six thousand years, specific times in all of Earth’s history he’d lived through.

Crying and getting angry, in between telling the most beautiful story Bethany had ever heard.

About friendship and finally feeling safe. A long time yearning, for something he’d never fully imagined for himself.

It was a love story. One Crowley didn’t see for what it was, until it was too late.

He’d lost everything that mattered, and all it took was…

“He lost you.” Bethany spoke softly.

Aziraphale looked over to see her staring again. This time, she had tears streaming down her face.

“Are you alright, dear?” Aziraphale’s natural empathy finally made an appearance.

“Crowley talked about you so much. He…” Beth hiccuped and wiped her eyes.

“Oh, if only you knew. He said…”

The Bentley interrupted her by swerving into the wrong lane to pass a line of cars.

Once everyone stopped screaming, Aziraphale flushed dark red and held his hand up.

“Best not repeat what was told to you in private.”

“But…” Bethany started to insist.

“But, I don’t need any distractions . Now or in the future.” Aziraphale explained.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Holding back all the questions he had about Crowley’s opinion of him.

“Please, tell me what you can about the people I saw with Crowley. They are witches, I presume?”

“Yes.” Bethany sniffled and nodded.

“Sheila Belvue. She’s the one that captured Crowley. I…I gave her some of his feathers and she did a spell that gave her control over him.”

Aziraphale was gripping the steering wheel in anger now.

“She made him ruin all the food here, and who knows what else. Tonight, she’s supposed to be showing him off to her new coven and…”

“What spell?” Aziraphale asked.

He’d read many books on the occult, mostly out of interest, but also to secretly learn how to protect Crowley.

Demons were surprisingly vulnerable to such things, if a mortal has the proper book.

Bethany hesitated. She covered her mouth with her finger tips and looked back at Atticus.

“What spell?” Aziraphale demanded once more, his voice uncharacteristically hard.

“She branded him.” Atticus told him.

“With holy water.” Bethany softly added.

Chapter Text

“Crowley!”

Sheila’s voice stopped Crowley in his tracks. It echoed throughout the old building, so he couldn’t trace where it was coming from.

He jammed his fingers in his ears and kept walking. She couldn’t order him around if he couldn’t hear her…and his feet hurt less if he was walking.

His eyes scanned about, attempting to get his bearings and make a plan.

The only conclusion he came to, was there were certainly uglier places to end his life.

The church was dark, save for the moonlight peeking through the stained glass. The colors this created were gorgeous, all spread out on the gray floors.

Crowley did truly love the aesthetics of these buildings. It was a shame they were religious dumpster fires.

Holy ground was such a racket. God didn’t have anything to do with churches, so why keep demons out of them?

“A cruel joke, on someone’s part. I doubt God actually had anything to do with it.”

That had been Aziraphale’s opinion. Giving God the benefit of the doubt, no matter what.

Crowley was hopping between each foot now. Even with socks and shoes, being here was almost intolerable.

The last and only time he’d stepped foot in a church, was to save Aziraphale from idiot Nazis. He’d planned to never do so again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He whispered.

There was a door between himself and the holy water he sought. And he’d just stepped into a hallway full of doors.

Turning each knob would be excruciating, plus he’d have to unplug his ears and risk hearing Sheila’s demands.

“You don’t have a choice, you have to…” he started pumping himself up, when Diedra came tiptoeing out of a room at the end of the hallway.

Crowley almost collapsed with relief.

“Sheila is here.” She mouthed as she hurried towards him.

She was holding something close to her chest….

“What the hell are you doing?” She demanded, as he took the small bottle from her.

She watched Crowley practically dance back and forth, as if he were trying to get both feet off the ground at once.

“You…you need to run.” He whispered back, growling in pain.

This was his last attempt at a good deed, before he ended it all.

“Just get out of this town, Matchstick. Leave the country..fuuuuck…get away from Sheila.”

“What are you taking about?” Diedra demanded.

“You said we’d leave together. You said…”

Realization spread over her face. Her mouth fell open and she attempted to take the Holy Water back.

“You lied to me. What is that stuff actually going to do?”

Crowley backed away from her, but he finally stopped jumping about enough to unscrew the top off the bottle.

He didn’t take the time to look at it. No time to whisper a final goodbye to Aziraphale.

This was it. He’d destroy himself to save the Earth he’d come to love so much.

The ultimate selfless act and he wouldn’t even be rewarded for it. Jesus stole all the wonder from that sacrifice, it seemed.

Goddamn it, this was going to hurt.

Crowley threw the lid and lifted the bottle over himself.

Diedra had time to see the first drops of water make their way towards him…before he disappeared completely.

She let out a strangled scream and looked about frantically.

The demon was gone. Just like that.

The only evidence he’d been there was a spilled bottle of Holy Water, soaking into the red rug.

……

“That wasn’t so bad. For a moment there it…wait.”

Crowley was blind but not destroyed. He felt weird, but not gone. Holy water was supposed to completely end him…

“There you are, my dearest.”

He couldn’t focus on Sheila’s voice, once he’d reappeared before her.

Crowley didn’t know what just happened, but he remembered a brief, unbearable pain as he was yanked through somewhere pitch black.

Whatever it was, only took a second, but his pupils reacted as if he’d been sitting in the dark for hours.

He squinted and stumbled backwards, after light flooded his vision.

“Easy now.” He heard a smile in Sheila’s voice.

“That salt will hurt like the dickens.”

Crowley gradually got in touch with his body, once more, and immediately regretted it.

Still blind, his feet were scorching on sacred ground and he smelled that horrid cursed salt.

What did she do to him? Where was the Holy water?

He’d had it! He was using it! How did she stop him from, wherever she was?

“Would you like your sunglasses, pet? It seems you’re struggling.” Sheila giggled and he heard her heels click on the floor.

“Stay away from me!” Crowley shouted.

His feet were on fire and his eyes burned just as badly, but he slowly managed to open them.

“Holy shit…no.” Crowley started shaking, when he realized what had just occurred.

He was standing in the middle of a dark red circle, painted on the church’s floorboards.

Most demons’ worse nightmare. A witch’s summoning circle.

The circle had white sigils and black candles along the inside edges, and another circle of that disgusting salt along all that.

“Candles on hardwood?” Crowley scoffed and hopped on one leg.

“Stupid! You know, I’m not surprised…just disappointed!”

Sheila stepped in his line of sight and gave him a soft smile.

“Says the demon that was summoned, using a ritual little girls do at sleepovers.”

“I doubt your childhood is the norm!” Crowley countered.

“If it were, society would have eaten itself a long time ago!”

“Is it not, as we speak?” Sheila grinned now and smoothed the front of her black dress.

“No matter. That will change, once you and I really get to work.”

Crowley wasn’t listening. He was desperately searching for any chance of escape, while practically skipping on one foot and the other.

“You embarrassed me, Crowley.” Sheila spoke coolly.

Crowley was unbuttoning his shirt now. The idea was to fold it as thick as possible and to stand on it, for some relief between him and the floor.

“Stand up straight! Stop moving!” Sheila barked at him.

Crowley did as he was ordered. His back was like a board and his feet were flat against the floor. He didn’t blink or move his eyes, even as sweat dripped into them.

Sheila could still feel the hate coming out of those yellow orbs .

“I ought to pluck those things out and make you wear them as a necklace!" She hissed and got as close to him as she could.

“I gave you a chance for mercy and you humiliate me? Do you enjoy punishment?”

Crowely couldn’t answer. The pain in his feet was radiating up his legs now. That incessant burning with no relief…

“What was your plan? Hm? Where was Diedra taking you?”

Crowley needed to yell out but he couldn’t.

“Answer me!” Sheila demanded.

He regained control of his mouth and did as she demanded.

“I…I tempted her, to make her easy to manipulate. She was j…just doing as I said…”

Sheila waved this explanation away.

“Why are you two here? Of all places?”

“I was going to k…destroy myself, with holy…holy water.” Crowely was stammering with pain now.

“How pathetically desperate.” Sheila looked at him like he was pitiful.

“You’d rather kill yourself, than live up to your potential? What kind of demon are you?”

“Matchstick, s…she helped me but she didn’t know…” Crowley ignored her question and insisted on Diedra’s behalf.

“Don’t pretend there is any honor between traitors.” Sheila sneered.

“Once I’m done with you, you’ll go fetch her for me. I’ll need a few days to think of a creative punishment…”

Crowley didn’t think he’d ever hated anyone as much as he hated this woman.

“So, Abigail. As the single witness of my true power, I’ll give you the honor of choosing the demon’s punishment.”

Sheila flashed a smile at one other witch that arrived here with her. The old, dirty footed bag lady in a sequin dress.

Crowley made eye contact with her and saw only gleeful mercilessness.

“The floor hurts it’s feet, doesn’t it?” Abigail snickered.

“Oh, very much!” Sheila laughed like the witch she was.

“Let’s make it take off it’s shoes and stand there for a few hours.” Abigail recommended.

She was still cupping her face where Crowley decked her with those high heels.

“You heard her, Crowley. Shoes off.” Sheila clapped her hands with excitement.

Crowley did what she ordered. He knelt down and untied his shoes with shaking hands.

“Socks off too. Just toss them out of the circle.”

The floor on his bare feet was unbearable. Crowley still stood up straight and he hated the sounds he was making.

This building was physically rejecting him. The burning pain was causing smoke to rise up from where he was stuck.

“Please…” he hated his begging even more.

“You sound pretty when you use your manners. But I need quiet, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Sheila’s expensive dress was wrinkled and her long hair was messy. This added to her annoyance with Crowley, which prolonged his suffering.

“I have a ton of texts and emails from my coven. All of which are questioning my power and your loyalty.”

Crowley gritted his teeth and willed the tears to stop pouring from his eyes, but it was pointless.

“Aw, you know, there was a time I’d have killed for demon’s tears for a number of powerful spells.” Sheila stepped back and smiled warmly at him.

“It seems I’ve got an unlimited supply now. How useful.”

She took her phone from her pocket and motioned at a pew nearby.

“I’ll be over there, answering my messages and fixing the mess you made. You’ll have a few hours of standing and…regretting.”

She walked away and shrugged nonchalantly.

“And hopefully learning. You’re so stubborn so if this is what it takes…”

Her words were cut short by a loud crashing sound and moonlight pouring out over the cathedral.

Crowley couldn’t turn his head to see the source, but he saw Sheila looking up in horror.

“What…what is that?” Abigail screamed.

…….

Sheila couldn’t understand what she was looking at, but she knew it terrified her.

Whatever it was had burst through the church’s ceiling and floated within the hole it created.

It was made of giant, white wings and golden rings that seemed to slowly spin in place.

All of this was covered in countless blue eyes, which were looking about, searching for something.

All of these eyes landed on Crowley at the exact same time and opened wide with even more rage.

Shiela felt this anger hit her like a wave, as the eyes all turned to look at her.

She was screaming and didn’t realize it. The thing was speaking to her in a booming, threatening voice but she couldn’t understand a word of it.

Her demon! Crowley was powerful, he could fight whatever this was…

“Crowley!” She started to sic him on it, but the frightening thing disappeared.

“Keep his name out of your filthy mouth!”

The monster was gone and in its place there stood a man. A rather unthreatening man, fluffy and old school fashionable.

This version terrified Sheila even more.

“The angel! It’s the…I’m…I’m so s…sorry!”

She held her hands up as Aziraphale hurried down the aisle, rolling up one of his sleeves as he came.

“Please! Please have mercy! It’s a demon! It’s just a…!”

She didn’t have time to defend herself or run. Aziraphale was too close and too fast.

Crowley got to see him rear back and punch Sheila through a wall.

Chapter Text

“How embarrassing! That was so excessive!”

Aziraphale was was hurrying towards Crowley now, unaware his friend couldn’t move.

“And barbaric! I can’t use miracles so…oh dear, I punched a woman…”

Crowley heard the angel whisper an inauthentic prayer, out of habit.

“I was expecting a hundred witches, not just two! Crashing through the ceiling, like a damn fool…”

Crowley was still in agony, so he couldn’t even fathom what was actually happening.

Aziraphale wasn’t here. This was pain fueled illusion. A wishful mirage.

“Dear lord, she went all the way with this. Here…”

The mirage bent down and swiped that foul smelling salt away, creating a pathway for Crowley to leave.

“Your poor feet, come now. Wait…” Aziraphale offered his hand to Crowley, but paused and squinted at his chest.

“I c…can’t.” Crowley whispered and let out a sob. Aziraphale had never heard him make such a sound.

“What is this?” Aziraphale rushed to step into the summoning circle, with no trouble, and snatched what only he could see.

A long rope, almost invisible even to his eyes, was coming from Crowley. He followed it, until he realized where it was leading.

Straight to Sheila’s body, hanging halfway out of the hole she’d been slammed through.

“You bitch.” Aziraphale muttered, but prayed for forgiveness right away.

He held the rope in both hands and yanked as hard as he could, severing the connection Crowley had to that horrid woman.

The effect was instantaneous. Crowley let out a heart wrenching scream and fell on the ground.

The bottom of his feet were nothing but burns and his hands joined them, when he caught himself on them.

“No, no, no come on! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize she had you stuck that way!” Aziraphale didn’t hesitate to pick Crowley up.

He cradled him in both arms, like he weighed nothing, and hurried towards the exit, accidentally knocking down two of Sheila’s candles as they fled.

…….

“Crowley, look at me. I can’t heal you, you’ll have to try on your own. I’m so so sorry…”

Aziraphale gingerly set Crowley in the churchyard. The grass was wet from the sprinkler system and he felt them both sink into the soft ground.

“Crowley? Come on now…” He held his friend up and waited for him to attempt to fix his burns, but he hadn’t moved.

“I can’t use a miracle that strong and you can’t…stay like this.”

Aziraphale’s voice softened, when he looked at Crowley’s face and saw him looking back at him.

Those sunflower eyes were searching his blue.

They were already redlined, from being tortured, but the tears he saw now were for a completely different reason.

“Are you really here?” Crowley’s voice was barely audible.

“I’m here.” Aziraphale heard him anyway.

He reached for Crowley’s face, to brush those tears away, but he stopped himself.

The poor demon’s clothes were torn and unbuttoned. His hair was a sweaty mess and he’d bitten through his lower lip at some point.

He was hurting and Aziraphale hated he couldn’t stop it.

“I…I’m terribly sorry it me took this long to get down here. Had I known…”

Crowley aggressively shook his head, before pulling him into a tight hug.

Aziraphale seized up, like he’d been hit with electricity. Every part of him wanted to return his embrace, but he froze.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind at once. The majority of them conflicting with what his body wanted.

Like always…

“Is he ok?” Bethany slammed the Bentley’s door and ran towards the beings in the grass.

Atticus and Miles were right behind her, while Crowley’s car beeped happily from the street.

“Ok, dear boy. Let’s…we should thank…”

Aziraphale tried to gently pull away, but Crowley held him tighter and buried his face in his neck.

“You came back.” He whispered and Aziraphale felt him shudder with a sob.

This was all incredibly uncharacteristic, from the Crowley he knew. It was enough for him to shut off all those thoughts.

“Of course I came back.” He whispered and finally held him.

Crowley felt him return his hug and sank into it. It felt like he gave up in Aziraphale’s arms, and Aziraphale didn’t hate the feeling.

“You can always depend on me. I’m sorry I made you think…I’m sorry I was so late…”

“Awwwwwwww!” Bethany interrupted the tender moment, with tears of her own.

Aziraphale and Crowley let one another go and started to act embarrassed.

Crowley turned from both of them and wiped his eyes. Aziraphale heard him sniffle and wanted to hug him again.

“Beth?” Crowley shifted awkwardly and gave the girl a seemingly genuine smile.

“I knew I had a good feeling about you.”

Bethany sat with him as well and pat his hand, before stopping herself.

“You don’t like to be touched.” She recalled and started crying.

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have gone to Sheila! I’m such an idiot…”

“Can we all have have a big apology party later?” Crowley winced as he pulled blades of wet grass off his feet.

“Uuuuh, hey. Angel guy!” Miles waved to get Aziraphale’s attention and jabbed his thumb at the building.

Aziraphale stood and rushed towards the church’s doors.

He peeked inside and turned as white as a sheet. The candles he’d knocked down were making quick work of the old building.

Aziraphale wrung his hands and made his way back to Crowley.

“Um, so…I may have burned down a church.”

His eyes were as wide as tea saucers and his hands were shaking.

Crowley just grinned a him, as proud as could be.

“You have no idea how hot that is.” His first blunt attempt at flirting.

“I think I have a fairly good idea! It must be incredibly hot!” Aziraphale looked back at what he’d done and fidgeted nervously.

“Those curtains are ancient. They went up in flames like, whoosh , tissue paper!”.

Atticus snorted at Aziraphale’s cluelessness, while Miles pat Crowley on the shoulder and whispered.

“Glad to see you’re not dead. Sorry you’ve got the hots for a devote grandmother…”

Crowley shoved his hand off and glared up at him.

“And just who the hell are you two? What were you doing in my car?”

…..

Angels and demons healed much faster than humans. The pain in Crowley’s feet wasn’t gone, but he was able to focus now.

He waved his hand over himself and finished the job. It was as if the burns were never there, except in his memories.

That agony wasn’t something he’d forget. Nor the feeling of having no control over himself.

“Oh no! Oh, we can’t leave them in there!” Aziraphale had a look of horror.

“The devil take that woman, but I can’t be here if she dies! The devil…well, he’ll come and take her and…”

“Wait…the actual devil could show up?” Miles stopped having fun and started heading to the Bentley.

“Right right, hold on.” Crowley stood as well and walked painlessly to peer in the church.

After a quick glance around, he snapped his fingers and three women appeared nearby.

Diedra was covering her face and coughing, until she realized she was no longer in the smoke filled church.

She saw Crowley standing there and ran to him.

“Heeey, Matchstick.” Crowley awkwardly pat her on the head.

“Who is she?” Aziraphale demanded.

“Diedra? I thought you’d be dead by now.” Bethany sniffed and crossed her arms.

Diedra ignored them and clutched Crowley’s arm.

“You’re ok! Oh my…oh my God?” She noticed Sheila on the ground, as Abigail fled the scene.

Her ex coven leader’s face was entirely a bruise on one side. But she was breathing…

“What happened to her?” Diedra whispered.

“He did.” Crowley couldn’t stop staring and smiling at Aziraphale, who was busy glaring at Diedra.

Crowley kindly pulled away from her and walked over to the black fur coat he’d also saved from the fire.

It was laying next to Sheila’s unconscious body and he knelt down to dig through its pockets.

He found what he was looking for and held it up. Aziraphale’s firefly lighter.

Aziraphale recognized it, even in the limited light the church fire provided. He watched Crowley put it in his pocket and smiled softly to himself.

Bethany’s stomach growled, loudly enough for everyone to look at her.

With a concerned expression, Atticus hurried over and put his arm around her shoulders.

“I know there is so much going on right now, but…but we haven’t eaten in almost four days.”

“Four days?” Aziraphale’s mouth fell open.

“Oh, right.” Crowley cringed at the memory.

“I have a big mess to clean up.”

“Come along. I can feed you all. Ugh, I need a drink.” Aziraphale groaned and rubbed his face.

“Drinks. I need drinks.” He corrected himself.

Chapter Text

“It’s not really stealing if they were going to throw it out.” Aziraphale reasoned out loud.

The humans were standing in a car park, waiting for him outside of a large grocery store.

Aziraphale had gone inside for a while. He came out with everything needed for a bougie charcuterie board, along with normal drinks and packaged snacks.

Beth and her boys snatched the snacks from his cart, as politely as possible, and wolfed them down in near silence.

“Oh dear, you poor things.” Aziraphale sighed.

“Can you fix the rest of it?” Atticus asked, with his mouth full, and motioned around, clearly referring to the country’s food supply.

“I’m afraid I’m limited on what I’m capable of, at the moment.” Aziraphale parked his cart next to the Bentley and glanced at the demon in the passenger seat.

He was fast asleep, recovering from his ordeal by shutting off for a bit.

“Crowley stopped it from continuing, but it will be a slow process to heal what he’s done.”

“What Sheila made him do.” Diedra was quick to add.

“Of course. What he was forced to do.”

Aziraphale was still in a little bit of shock, over the details of Crowley’s cursing the country’s food.

Earth was lucky he was such a good demon. He could ruin the planet with very little effort.

“Is he ok?” Bethany asked for the third time.

“No.” Diedra replied.

She’d started fuming a bit, once she learned Crowley had “tempted” her. But she, out of all of them, understood how desperate he’d been.

“Do you know how evil you have to be to brand someone? Let alone doing it to make them helpless.”

“A despicable spell. Using holy water against a demon.” Aziraphale sneered.

Diedra shook her head and gave Crowley a pitying look.

“He acted tough the entire time, but you could see him losing his mind. He…”

Diedra glanced at Aziraphale and didn’t finish her sentence.

“He what?” Aziraphale asked and motioned for her to step away with him.

“Well, I think…” Diedra held her arm and teared up.

“I’d be extra nice to him for a while, if I were you. I mean, you seem sweet but I’d go overboard on it, if you two are close…”

“Why?” Aziraphale insisted.

“What don’t I know about the situation between you two?”

“It’s not a about me at all.” She whispered.

“Crowley killed himself.”

Aziraphale looked confused but let her finish.

“He had me find more holy water and he poured it on himself.” Diedra explained.

“The only reason it didn’t work is because Sheila stopped him at the last second. But he did it…”

Aziraphale covered his mouth and just stared at Crowley. His friend was snoring slightly, not dreaming about the horror he went through.

Not yet anyway.

He still dreamed about his fall from Heaven, which was something Crowley didn’t remember confessing to Aziraphale, one drunk night.

But Aziraphale remembered and prayed this trauma didn’t effect him as badly.

“I’ll get him home and…nah, nope! That’s not for you!”

“What?” Miles spoke through a mouthful of grapes.

“This is for something else.” Aziraphale took the paper bags full of fancy foods and alcohol and placed them on top of the Bentley.

“You didn’t specify.” Miles huffed.

“Here, potassium is important for humans. It prevents muscle spasms.”

Aziraphale plucked a bunch of bananas from the cart and dropped them in Mile’s hands.

“Right…a banana a day keeps the “spasms” away. Thanks grandma.”

“If something about my aesthetic reminds you of your grandmother, I’d love to meet her some time.” Aziraphale joked, as he opened the Bentley’s boot.

“She must have impeccable…taste. Oh, hello.”

He looked down and saw Sheila looking back at him with terrified eyes.

Sheila was still out cold, when the human boys tied her up and tossed her in the trunk, but she was awake now.

While he’d always been a fan of forgiveness, Aziraphale had felt a distinctive change within himself this evening.

One he hoped to not carry too far into the future.

He set his bags next to Crowley’s torturer, ignoring her muffled screams, and slammed the trunk shut as hard as he could, without breaking it.

“We should drop the garbage off somewhere.”

“What are you doing back there?” Crowley grouched and stuck his head out the window.

“Oops, sorry! Ah, well it’s best you wake up now, so we can deal with this.”

……

“You’re sure you’re ok going in, just the two of you?” Bethany asked.

“Yes, perfectly fine. I’d like to see them try anything.” Aziraphale assured her, as he got out at their next destination.

“Have you the urge to punch a few through the ceiling?” Crowley got out as well and grinned at him over the Bentley.

“Certainly not.” Aziraphale sniffed and walked to the back of the car.

“The mere threat, of a more sophisticated punishment, will suffice. The human imagination is far more violent than anything I’d be willing to do to them.”

Crowley joined him at the boot and gently elbowed him.

“Did you really reveal your “be not afraid” form to a group of mortals?”

“Ugh, please don’t remind me.” Aziraphale was blushing over just being nudged…and his excessiveness.

“Why give me that many wings and eyes? It’s as if God made too many and glued me together to prevent waste.”

Crowley chuckled and opened the trunk again.

“Speaking of waste.”

Sheila was too busy staring at Aziraphale to notice her victim standing next to him. She was shaking in her binds and Crowley couldn’t help but relish in the image.

“She’s really afraid of you.”

“Pity.” Aziraphale rolled his eyes and started to lift the witch out of the trunk.

“They’re all waiting for her.” Crowley showed him the message on Sheila’s phone, before snapping the phone in half and tossing it.

……

“If any of you get even the faintest inkling of an idea, to pester my friend again, you’ll find yourself in much worse shape.”

Aziraphale didn’t feel any of his typical guilt, when he used his foot to shove Sheila towards her coven.

Her hands were tied behind her back, so when she fell, she couldn’t catch herself and smacked her face on the ballroom floor.

She remained there, shaking and whimpering. None of the other witches moved to help her.

They were too busy staring at Aziraphale.

He was standing just in front of Crowley, with his wings out. They were more beautiful than Crowley remembered and impressively filled the space.

Aziraphale also allowed his halo to glow enough to be obvious, so there was no mistaking what he was.

What should have been a lovely and hopeful sight, struck fear into every woman present.

“I’d punish you all now, but considering what’s waiting for you when you die, I’ll choose to have mercy.”

He stepped forward and almost two hundred witches stepped back.

“My very existence should serve as a message that you chose the wrong side. Mercy is my native language, which Hell does not speak.”

Crowley wasn’t used to his voice being so deep and serious. He’d have gotten shivers, were he not trying his best not to laugh at the witch’s expressions.

“As frightened as you are, of any righteous punishment, just wait and see what Satan does to you for fun.”

Aziraphale motioned towards Sheila.

“Now, pick that up.”

Three witches kept their heads down and scrambled to pick their leader up off the floor.

“Stay away from Crowley, or you’ll get a taste of Hell on Earth. I’m always watching and I know your faces.”

…….

“You’re terrible with faces.” Crowley teased him, once they were outside.

“Well, they’re an ugly bunch. If a haggish woman gets within ten feet of you, I’ll step in.”

Aziraphale tucked his wings away and led the way back to the Bentley, while Crowley didn’t move.

“You’re more judgmental than I remember.”

Aziraphale turned back to him and didn’t look the least bit ashamed. Crowley grinned and took a few steps to catch up.

“Maybe you’re just speaking your mind more? That’s a bad habit for an angel.”

“Five minutes with you and you’re already a terrible influence.” Aziraphale smiled back.

His smile fell when Crowley got serious.

He crossed his arms and looked at the door they’d just left through.

“Do you wish I’d done more to her?” Aziraphale asked.

“Trust me, if I were able to use a proper miracle…”

“I’ll deal with Sheila later.” Crowley promised and jerked his head towards the car and started walking.

“Satan will have to come up with some new tricks to compete with the nightmares I’ll be sending her.”

Aziraphale started to respond but Crowley stopped again.

“You know, I can’t wait to hear what’s on that mind of yours, if you’ve got the time. An explanation, preferably…”

Despite his casual tone, without his sunglasses Aziraphale could tell how desperate he was to discuss…everything.

“The humans need to get home.” He quickly interrupted and motioned in the Bentley’s back seat.

Bethany and Diedra were sitting in the boy’s laps.

Beth and Atticus were cuddled up and sleeping. Diedra had fallen asleep on Miles as well, and he seemed unsure of what to do with his hands.

“We’ll get them rooms near the bookshop and…and I suppose you and I need to have a talk.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Bethany asked Crowley, after encouraging him to roll down the passenger side window.

The demon was distracted, but he gave her a curt nod and stepped out of the car.

Anxiety was a constant in Crowley’s life, but his was through the roof at the moment. What excuse would the angel have for leaving so coldly?

Did he hate him? Was he here out of some sense of duty?

Sure, he’d saved Crowley, but he was an angel. Saving people was his modus operandi.

What had he thought of their kiss? Anything? Was he disgusted?

“I forgive you.”

For what, specifically? For ruining everything? For misunderstanding what was going on between them for the last six thousand years?

For Crowley abandoning him to Heaven, all alone, just because he’d rather be with him on Earth?

Such a petty, small minded want, in the grand scheme of things.

Did he forgive him for hoping anyway? Did he think he was trying to trick him?

He’d put every unspoken want and hope into that kiss, just for Aziraphale to look at him like he was a bug on the bottom of his shoe.

Crowley knew he tended to misremember painful situations. But being self aware didn’t change how he perceived anything…

“You two are really cute together.” Beth’s voice pulled him out of his spiraling.

“That’s not what we are.” Crowley quickly shut her down.

“Does he know that?” Bethany watched Aziraphale lead her friends into the hotel lobby, to pay for their rooms.

“He came down from Heaven to rescue you. That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

Crowley leaned back on the Bentley and crossed his arms. He’d had plenty of spare sunglasses, in the glove box, and didn’t hesitate to utilize a pair.

“He’s not a monster.” Crowley dismissed her claims.

“Even I wouldn’t leave someone in that situation and I’m a demon.”

“So?” Bethany leaned next to him.

“I barely know anything about what you two are, and I can already tell “angel” and “demon” are just words.”

Crowley was much taller than her, so he had to look down to sneer at her.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t understand anything.”

“I understand that you each have your own brains and ideas.” Bethany was smugly therapizing him again.

“I understand that you’ve come to the conclusion that Heaven and Hell are just words too. Otherwise, why would you have saved our puny little planet?”

She glanced up at his surprised expression.

“And each other?”

Crowley’s stomach sank and his face flushed with embarrassment.

“He gave you your memories back.”

“He did.” Bethany looked apologetic.

“Jesus…Satan…ugh.” Crowley slid down the Bentley and sat on the dirty sidewalk.

“It’s ok. The story of you two is so beautiful…”

“Please don’t.” Crowley groaned.

“I was drunk and I barely remember anything I told you…”

He looked up at her with fearful eyes.

“Did you tell him any of it?”

“No.” Bethany assured him as she sat down as well.

“I mean, I almost did. But he insisted that what you say in private is your own business.”

Crowley sighed with relief.

“That sounds like him.”

Bethany was smiling to herself, wanting so much gush over these two supernatural beings.

“You’re both very protective of one another. I can tell by the way you walk around him…”

Crowley raised his eyebrow at her.

“You circle him. Like a sheep dog.” Bethany notified him.

“No I don’t…”

“And he makes sure you’re there, before making any moves.” Bethany went on.

"Your body language changed as soon as you were together again. It’s sweet…”

“Was this what you wanted to talk to me about? Because this conversation is ridiculous and I would like it to stop.”

Crowley started to stand, but Beth grabbed his sleeve and yanked him back down.

“Ow.” Crowley complained and chose to stare at the door Aziraphale would walk through at any moment.

“I actually wanted to apologize, if you’d calm down.” Bethany huffed.

“You already did.” Crowley shook his head.

“You’re a young human, dealing with occult forces. You weren’t built for seeing Sheila’s lies for what they were.”

He turned to her and took his sunglasses off, so she’d know he was sincere.

“I’m sorry I was scared of your eyes.” Beth had no trouble looking at them now.

“They’re cool, now that I know what you are. Sunflowers are my favorite…”

“Oh yuck, shut up!” Crowley growled at her compliment, making her giggle.

“Look, I’m not big on forgiveness, but a demon fucked with your head. You had every right to look for answers…”

“And an angel compromised my free will.” Bethany sniffed.

“Say what now?” Crowley’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Aziraphale “persuaded” me to check on you, in that bar.” Bethany explained.

“Something about a “failed program” in Heaven. He claims he was worried about you, so he sent me over to try and get you home”.

Bethany tilted her head, as a thought came to her.

“Like a guardian angel, I suppose. That’s almost cute, if your boyfriend wasn’t acting like an Eldritch horror.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s not even a boy, really…well, a man anyway.”

“Hmph.” Bethany rolled her eyes and huffed.

She watched him staring at that door and her gaze softened.

“You thought he didn’t care about you, but he was watching over you this whole past year…”

Crowley coughed lightly, put his sunglasses back on, and stood up.

“Right, well. Good luck with everything…”

Bethany pouted, until she saw him take out his phone.

……

“Give me your number, yeah? I’ll text you mine…”

“Really? Why?” Beth stood as well.

“You went way out of your way to save a demon.” Crowley explained.

“Had you not tried so hard to help me, Earth would have suffered in ways you can’t imagine.”

“Ok, but why do you need my…?”

“But most of all…” Crowley interrupted.

“…you saved me from a life comparable to Hell, so, you’ve earned yourself a few demonic favors.”

“Favors?”

“Yeah, if you ever need anything, just shoot me a message.“ He shrugged.

“Like if your tire blows out or you can’t pay your tuition…lord knows the world needs you to finish school.”

“Crowley, I can’t ask you for anything. I put you in that position…”

“We already established, I don’t blame you. What’s your number? Before I change my mind.”

Bethany did as he said and grinned as he casually typed it in and texted her.

“Pass it on to your “boys”, but if any of you drunk dial me…”

“Never!” Bethany assured him, right as Aziraphale finally came outside.

“The tall one is worried about you!” He called to Bethany and waved her inside.

“Thank you again, but my friend and I really must be off!”

He climbed in the Bentley’s drivers side. Crowley noticed he hadn’t even looked at him.

“He’s gotten too comfortable driving my car.”

“Go talk to him!” Bethany surprised Crowley with a hug.

He tensed up and let out an exasperated sigh.

“You get one.” He told her and stiffly pat the top of her blond head.

……

“Nice talk?” Aziraphale adjusted the review mirror, as Crowley climbed in the car.

“Humans are too sentimental.” Crowley claimed and slunk in his seat without buckling up.

The Bentley already smelled like lavender again. It’s usual, dark aura, lightened when the angel was driving.

“I doubt it approves of your dirty boots on it’s dashboard.” Aziraphale sniffed, before starting the car.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you two ganging up on me.” Crowley sat properly and buckled up.

He’d gotten good at not showing how flustered he was, but he was alone with Aziraphale for the first time in over a year.

Crowley jumped a bit when his phone vibrated.

He looked down at the glowing screen and read Beth’s text.

Hey, I’m also sorry for kissing you. Nothing about that situation was like me.

Maybe I was just feeling what your angel feels. He was in my head after all 😉

Crowley quickly deleted the text and shoved his phone in his pocket.

“Everything alright?” Aziraphale sounded concerned as he pulled out onto the street and towards his bookshop.

“Everything’s fine.” Crowley lied.

One of his legs was restlessly jumping and he tapped his nails on his other knee.

“Let’s get you home and I’ll make you a nice cup of chamomile tea.” Aziraphale misunderstood his anxiety.

“You’ve had quite the ordeal…”

The Bentley chose that moment to click on its radio. “At Last”- Etta James, filled the car.

Crowley and Aziraphale accidentally smacked each other’s hands, as they each rushed to shut it off.

Chapter Text

“I’m not cold.” Crowley halfheartedly complained.

He was sitting on one of the sofas in the bookshop. Aziraphale had appeared behind him and tucked a heavy blanket over his shoulders.

“I know, I know.” Aziraphale was fiddling with a small, white machine on the coffee table now.

“I read about how to make someone feel secure, after they’ve experienced something terrible. But I don’t have an actual weighted blanket, I’m afraid…”

The small white machine was producing a gentle mist. Crowley smelled a mix of things he didn’t hate.

“What the hell is that?” He demanded.

“Eucalyptus, lavender aaaand chamomile.” Aziraphale explained, as he read the last of the small bottles and put it back in their box.

“What?”

“Aromatherapy.” Aziraphale clasped his hands and smiled at him.

“It sounded so silly when I read about it, but I’ve often found that humans know what they’re talking about, when it comes to the senses.”

“You just read about everything, don’t you?”

“I do try.” Aziraphale admitted.

Crowley pulled the blanket tighter around himself and watched the angel rush off to the next room.

“Speaking of chamomile, I promised you tea!” He called.

“I’d prefer something stronger, if you wouldn’t mind!” Crowley replied.

“Oh, thank God! Right away!”

Crowley chuckled and closed his eyes. He was overwhelmed with being taken care of. Of even being back in his favorite place.

But these stupid essential oils were working…

He’d miracled himself some clean clothes, just soft black pants and a shirt to match. There were battery powered candles about the place, and Aziraphale turned off the overhead lights.

It felt like a cave in here. A comforting cave that smelled of old books and “eucalyptus”.

Crowley wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he’d needed exactly this for over a year now. The world could be loud and jarring, especially when you were all on your own.

“I do have scotch as well, but if we’re going to chat…well, wine drunk is a much more peaceful drunk.”

Aziraphale was still fussing over everything. He brought two bottles of wine, two glasses and an elegantly arranged charcuterie board.

“You put that all together just now?” Crowley looked impressed at everything spread out on the coffee table.

“My miracles are limited, but you barely need one for this sort of thing…”

Aziraphale sat in a chair across from him and took a bite of something.

“Oh, good lord.” He sighed.

Crowley couldn’t help but smirk, as he settled in for one of his favorite activities.

Watching Aziraphale eat.

……

“I don’t understand why wine isn’t allowed Upstairs.” Aziraphale complained as he finished his own bottle.

“Jesus turned water into it and everyone went wild. The man was sloshed 24/7…”

“He was mortal. Built in leeway” Crowley leaned on his hand and smiled at him.

They’d mostly been quiet for the past hour. Crowley was content to just watch Aziraphale feel good again, after going so long without feeling anything.

Heaven’s lack of sensation was a crime against sentient beings.

Aziraphale’s cheeks always got rosy when he had red wine. Other alcohol didn’t effect him that way, so Crowley used to bring him a bottle when he visited.

He’d swear ‘cute’ wasn’t in his vocabulary, but a certain wine drunk angel deserved a close comparison.

“My tolerance is gone, I’m afraid.” Aziraphale was surprised with himself as he stood up and felt woozy.

“Don’t over do it.” Crowley didn’t feel anything yet and left to grab something stronger.

He’d spent seventy percent of the last year wasted and had forgotten the word “tolerance”.

When he came back with scotch, Aziraphale was holding a book to his chest, while running his other hand over the spines of the ones on the bookshelf.

“Muriel has been doing their job properly, as far as I can tell.” He examined his fingers and saw no dust.

“I was halfway through this series, but I can’t quite remember where I left off…”

“You could just take them with you.” Crowley’s eyes didn’t leave Aziraphale’s face, as he pulled the stopper from the glass carafe.

“There is a strict ‘no material objects’ rule in place. Stricter, anyway.”Aziraphale sighed.

Crowley’s throat tightened as he focused on pouring his drink.

“So you are going back.” He’d gotten the answer to the question he was afraid to ask.

Aziraphale’s shoulders dropped and he couldn’t look at him. He slid the book in its place and returned to his seat.

“I don’t have a choice. And even if I did…”

“What have they got you doing up there, anyway?” Crowley cut him off and sat as well.

He leaned back and splayed his legs off the couch, shooting his drink in one go.

“How good are you at planning to kill everything? I wouldn’t think that was your forte.” He went on and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Aziraphale didn’t miss the hardness in his voice and returned it.

“You don’t understand. You would, if you’d come with me, but you chose to stay. That is not my fault.”

Crowley felt an argument coming on and decided to run into it, feelings first.

What did he have to lose? Certainly nothing he hadn’t already lost.

“What on God’s green Earth made you think I’d go with you? After everything Heaven put me through? Put us through?”

He motioned between the two of them with his shot glass, before pouring another.

“I was trying to save you! I DID save you! And you threw it away!” Aziraphale answered.

“I knew it!” Crowley jabbed his finger at him, before slamming his empty glass down on the table.

“That’s all this has been, the entire time! I’m just a notch in your belt! One more good deed, to get on God’s good side!”

“I beg your pardon?” Aziraphale scoffed and watched him stand up to leave.

“Oh, maybe if I bring an actual demon home, Mommy will talk to me again!” Crowley put on a mocking voice and stuck out his lower lip.

“You’re not stupid, Angel! You know She doesn’t give a fuck, and yet you still tried to make me that air headed, naive…”

He threw his hands up and stalked towards the door, his long legs crossing the room in a few steps.

“I don’t want you to be like that again!” Aziraphale stood as well and followed him.

“Your being an angel wasn’t the point! It never was!”

“Yeah right.” Crowley rolled his eyes as he stopped at the door.

“You called me a “bad guy”! You threw me in with the rest of them…after everything…”

Aziraphale hadn’t remembered saying that until this moment. He felt sick.

“Crowley, no.” He reached for his friend who jerked away.

“I…I misspoke…”

“You only want me if I’m an angel so you don’t have to be ashamed of me!”

Aziraphale’s anger returned at that. He walked away and shoved his chair, almost knocking it over.

“Why would I want that for you?” He turned back and roughly gestured to himself.

“Who would want to be this?”

Crowley flinched at how loud he was.

“Who would want to work for Heaven? You think I chose any of it lightly?”

“Then what was the point?” Crowley shouted back at him.

He wasn’t even trying to mask the pain in his voice as he motioned around the precious bookshop.

“Why give this up? What was wrong with what we had? What I…what I wanted us to have?”

His voice caught in his throat. He put his hands on his hips and glared at his sunglasses, on their statue across the room.

More than anything he wished he was wearing them. He looked down instead.

“I was finally happy, you know? After so long, I thought…I thought we both were. Especially after Gabriel and Beezlebub made it out…I thought…”

Crowley growled and aggressively raked his hands through his hair.

“I thought Earth was more important to you than what Heaven wants! I…I thought I…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence.

“I would have thought you’d fight harder. But if I’ve overestimated how important anything was to you…”

“You are more important to me than Earth.” Aziraphale firmly admitted.

Crowley’s head snapped up and they made eye contact.

Aziraphale still looked angry but he was blushing as well.

“More important than Heaven, or Hell…any of it. But I’m protecting you, by being up there.” He explained .

“I wanted you with me, but I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t…”

Crowley’s arms dropped and he stood up straight.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m scared!” Aziraphale stepped closer and spoke with his hands.

“I’m afraid Heaven will get what they want! If I can’t change anything, they’ll win! Earth and Hell will be destroyed…but in the very least, you’d have been on the winning side!”

“Oh…” Crowley muttered.

“We would hate the work, but we’d be together! And you would have been safe, no matter the out come…”

Aziraphale looked hurt and pointed at Crowley.

“Then you had to…try to tempt me! You act as if I’ve disrespected you but look at what you did!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Crowley snapped.

“I’ve never…I mean that one time, but it was just over food…”

“You kissed me!” Aziraphale threw his hands up and spoke like Crowley was stupid.

It was Crowley’s turn to flush dark red and try to stammer out a sentence, but Aziraphale kept going.

“Did you forget already? I suppose that’s to be expected, considering all the mortals you kiss…”

“No I don’t!” Crowley looked beyond insulted.

“And that wasn’t meant to be a temptation! Do you really think so lowly…?”

“What if the Metatron saw what you did?” Aziraphale interrupted him.

“What if he’d cast me out? What if I fell because of it?”

Aziraphale started pacing back and forth, as he voiced the fears that made all his decisions.

“All this time, and that’s when you chose to do something like that? When it was impossible for me to honestly react?”

“I didn’t plan…that’s not what I wanted…” Crowley started.

“How can I protect you if I fall?” Aziraphale wouldn’t let him talk.

“How can I protect anyone?” He stopped and gave Crowley an almost mad look.

His eyes were wide and he gripped his jacket with both hands.

“The only power I have is my status as an angel! Now I’m THE angel and if I wasn’t, someone horrible would take my place!”

“Aziraphale…” Crowley’s gradual understanding was breaking his heart.

Aziraphale was too busy freaking out to notice him hurrying over.

“I…I don’t know what I’m going to do! I’m helpless up there and they want to kill everything and they want me to lead it all…!”

He’d started hyperventilating as Crowley pulled him into his arms.

“Ok ok, shhhh. Ok…” Crowley whispered and hugged him tightly.

Aziraphale broke down at that. The past year of constant stress and responsibility was too much for his corporeal body to handle.

He let himself be held and cried against Crowley’s chest.

“I’m trapped! Either w…way I’m trapped and I just want it all to stop!” His words were muffled against him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I didn’t understand, I’m so sorry.” Crowley whispered and let his cheek rest on Aziraphale’s head.

His fluffy curls would have more than few tears in them.

…..

“Thank you.” Aziraphale managed to smile up at Crowley.

It was his turn to sit on the couch and be taken care of, so Crowley brought him hot cocoa.

Aziraphale sipped it, prepared to enjoy one of his favorite things, but ended up gagging and sputtering instead.

“Oops, ah…I spiked it.” Crowley cringed and pat Aziraphale’s back.

Aziraphale tried to stop grimacing, but he sniffed the cocoa and winced at the alcohol fumes coming off it.

“It smells like scotch that chocolate just breathed on…”

“I may have gotten the ratio wrong. Here, I’ll try again…” Crowley was embarrassed as he reached for the drink.

Aziraphale leaned away and downed the cocoa instead. Crowley snorted at the angel’s full body shiver.

“Um…wasn’t that hot?”

“The scotch cooled it off far too much.” Aziraphale laughed softly and set his winged cup on the table.

“You’re so silly. How many times have you made hot chocolate?”

“I’m not silly.” Crowley grumped and sat with him.

The alcohol was going straight to Aziraphale’s head. He’d begun to calm down and started to tease Crowley more.

“If you weren’t silly, occasionally, I don’t think I’d enjoy your company as much.”

“How did you make it back here?” Crowley interrupted him.

He leaned back on the arm of the couch and looked worried.

“You said you’re trapped up there. Is someone coming to look for you?”

“I have three days…” Aziraphale glanced at the clock and saw it was past midnight.

“Two days and a few hours.” He corrected himself and returned Crowley’s sad look.

“I made a friend, Upstairs. She sent me down here to help you and covered my tracks.”

“A friend?” Crowley obviously didn’t believe him.

“Who the Hell could you trust in Heaven?”

“It’s a long story.” Aziraphale rubbed his face and looked worn out.

Crowley watched him prepare to tell the story anyway and jumped up.

“That’s enough of that for tonight, I think.” He insisted as he hurried to Aziraphale’s record player.

“It’s rather important.” Aziraphale started to explain, as Crowley slid the closest record out of it’s sleeve and set it on the player.

Classical music filled the room. Aziraphale closed his eyes and relaxed even more.

“Evangeline gives me a bit of hope for the future. She’s different…” he opened his eyes and kept talking.

“That’s wonderful.” Crowley dismissed whatever he was going to say and approached him with his hand extended.

“Tell me tomorrow.” He grinned and wiggled his fingers.

Aziraphale’s eyes darted between the record player and Crowley’s face a few times. His heart started racing.

“Are…are you asking me to dance?”

“Don’t make it a big deal, or I’ll over think it…”

Crowley bent down and took both of Aziraphale’s hands, gently pulling him towards the open part of the bookshop.

…….

“Why are you laughing at me?” Crowley complained.

He’d convinced Aziraphale into a slow dance that started out nice enough, until the angel kept giggling.

“Big bad Crowley asked me to dance.” Aziraphale tried to hold back but couldn’t help it.

“If you knew you, you’d find it funny as well.”

“I’m trying to do this right, you jerk.” Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s hip and hand tighter and pulled him close.

Aziraphale gasped and all humor left him. He could only stare at Crowley’s chest and move his feet.

“Do what right?” He asked and managed to look up at him through his lashes.

Aziraphale wasn’t short by any means, but Crowley always made him feel that way.

Crowley shook his head, instead of answering, and watched their feet. His face was beet red and he looked uncomfortable.

Aziraphale noticed the scarring from this close. Crowley’s collar was just out of the way enough to expose it.

“Is that where she did it?” His shyness disappeared and was replaced with concern.

“I’m fine…”

“You’re not! Why haven’t you miracled it away?” Aziraphale let go of Crowley’s hand and started to touch his throat.

Crowley stepped back and attempted to casually shrug.

“I tried. It’s permanent, I guess. Since she used holy water, or just the type of spell it was…”

Aziraphale imagined how badly being branded must have hurt. Crowley didn’t deserve such pain and the thought broke him.

“I’m sorry I left you.” Aziraphale’s eyes welled up. He laid his head on Crowley’s chest again, much to the demon's shock.

His spine straightened like a board and Aziraphale felt his body heat up, outrageously fast.

“Y…you did what you had to…”

Crowely hadn't expected this to happen so soon, if at all. He’d been prepared to dance until the sun came up, and to be perfectly happy with just that.

But they’d stopped dancing, so he’d ended holding Aziraphale. Crowley could feel his damned heart about to jump out of him.

“I’ll try.” Aziraphale sniffled and brushed his finger tips over Sheila’s name, burned in runes.

It disappeared almost instantly, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps that ran across Crowley’s entire body.

He couldn’t help himself, as he leaned down and gently kissed Aziraphale on top of his head.

Aziraphale looked at him to question it, and Crowley took the opportunity to plant an equally gentle kiss on his lips.

When Aziraphale tensed up, but didn’t pull away, Crowley held his face and kissed him harder.

This went on for a long moment. Crowley was afraid to end it, until he felt Aziraphale hold his wrists and kiss him back.

Crowley released Aziraphale’s lips. He kept holding his face and searched those blue eyes with his yellow.

The blue was so pretty this close, but they looked scared.

“Should I stop? I’m sorry…”

“No! No…” Aziraphale shook his head and gripped Crowley’s wrists tighter.

“Please don’t. I…I just have no…no idea what we’re doing…”

Chapter Text

“Is that really necessary?”

The high pitch of Aziraphale’s voice was like a splash of cold water, on Crowley’s overheating brain.

“Too fast? Too much, sorry…” he muttered and stopped unbuttoning Aziraphale’s shirt.

He’d finally gotten the angel into a rhythm to make out to, after much clumsy fumbling.

Incredibly fun fumbling. Emotionally charged and passionate clumsiness.

He was having the time of his life and couldn’t remember feeling this deliriously happy.

Aziraphale tasted like water, after being thirsty for far too long. His hair was as soft as it looked and lavender had become Crowley’s favorite smell.

It was obvious Aziraphale liked kissing him. A lot. He’d practically melted into this couch, but…

“I just don’t understand why you keep trying to take my clothes off.” Aziraphale sat up and primly readjusted his bow tie.

“You’re joking…” Crowley was beyond frustrated but he managed to hide it….mostly.

“You’ve been on this planet since the beginning and you don’t know why….”

Aziraphale reminded him of a cat, whenever he’d give him such looks. A fluffy house cat who’s sunbeam you just blocked from the window.

“I understand it, from a human perspective. I just don’t understand why you’re doing it.”

Crowley raised his eyebrow at him and started to consider something he never had.

“Maybe it’s a demons only thing…”

“What is?” Aziraphale demanded.

Crowley was ready to be disappointed.

He’d allowed himself this fantasy very rarely…only when telling Aziraphale goodbye, after particularly drunk and chatty visits.

After Aziraphale let his guard down and talked about the universe, the way he saw it. Crowley would get lost in his words and not want to leave.

When he did fantasize about getting closer… such thoughts he had. Now, he was fairly overjoyed over getting even this far.

All the angel’s little noises and gasps were driving Crowely crazy, but what if that was an angel’s limit?

Did God allow them them the possibly of pleasure, outside of food and enjoying music?

There was only one way to find out. The idea of opening Aziraphale’s eyes to such things was impossible to resist.

“Maybe I really am wicked.” He thought to himself.

Still, instead of answering Aziraphale’s question, Crowley snuck close once more and kissed along his neck.

Aziraphale happily accepted this, obviously relishing in the attention and new pleasure, but Crowley could only do so much with that worn collar in the way.

“You should at least take this off.” He whispered in his ear and tugged on Aziraphale’s jacket sleeve.

“You love these old things and I don’t want to ruin them.”

”Then you’ll just have to be careful, won’t you?” Aziraphale knew he was trying to persuade him and turned his nose up.

“Please? If you’d just trust me…” Crowley groaned and nibbled his ear for the first time.

Aziraphale’s reaction to this was intense. He let out the loudest, shocked moan and grabbed Crowley far too roughly.

“Ouch, ok! Sorry!” Crowley put his hands up and eased off him.

“No, I’m sorry…” Aziraphale stood and walked a short distance away, wiping his own sweaty hands off on his jacket.

“This is bizarre, Crowley. And overwhelming and…maybe we could just dance some more?”

He weakly motioned to the record player and Crowley could tell his heart wasn’t into the suggestion.

“We’ll do whatever you want, darling. But you seemed to be enjoying yourself over here…”

Crowley pat the seat next to him and gave Aziraphale a lewd grin.

“Darling?” Aziraphale muttered and blushed even redder.

Crowley’s smile disappeared, when he saw how worried the angel actually was.

“Hey, it’s fine. Really…” he hurried over and tried to pull him into his arms, but his heart sank when Aziraphale resisted.

Crowley didn’t know what hit him, but he found himself sinking to his knees and begging for forgiveness in a panic.

……

“I’m sorry! I’ll stop! We can stop and pretend none of this happened…” he was holding Aziraphale’s hands and pressed his forehead against them.

Guilt had hit him like a train. How dare he tarnish such a sweet, innocent…?

“Get up, Crowley. You’re being ridiculous…” Aziraphale was astonished at the demon’s behavior.

“We’ll just dance!” Crowley promised and looked up at him with desperate eyes.

“I’ll take you to the Ritz and a show. We can go stargazing…you always wanted me to take you but I was a jerk….”

“You’re not a jerk.” Aziraphale was the stronger of the two, so he made Crowley stand with zero effort.

“Please don’t push me away. I’m sorry for forcing…” Crowley was babbling now.

He was silenced by Aziraphale barely pressing his lips with his fingers. Crowley could feel his ears burning over such a light touch…

Aziraphale shook his head slightly and made him look him in the eye.

“You silly thing. You could never force me to do anything. That’s laughable.”

Crowley was too lost in his eyes to hear what he was saying.

“I have wanted you for so long.” He heard himself admit.

It was Aziraphale’s turn to be afraid again.

“I’d never rush this. Or even ask or let you know I wanted you at all… in any way.” Crowley stepped back and awkwardly rubbed his hands together.

“I didn’t know I’ve felt this way, until…. I can’t believe we’re discussing…I can’t believe where we’ve ended up…”

He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

“If Gabriel had never come here. If they’d all just left us the hell alone, I could have kept it all in…”

“It’s ok, Crowley. Let’s just calm down…”

“I would have brought you flowers!” Crowley blurted out.

“You what?” Aziraphale relaxed and laughed softly.

“I’d want do this right, if I’d ever attempted it! Which I never would have…”

Crowley turned his back on Aziraphale and took a few steps towards the wall.

“Remember when you’d invite me over? Back before you even trusted me…but you were afraid I was lonely?” Crowley slowly turned to him but wouldn’t look up.

“Since I was cast down, those were the first times in my life where I’ve ever felt safe. Ever since I fell…you were the first person…the only person…”

Aziraphale could see him getting choked up and felt horrible. He could tell how difficult this conversation was.

He also desperately wanted Crowley to get the words out, but the pain in his voice was too much.

“Let’s stop for now, ok?” He approached Crowley and opened his arms to him.

“I’m afraid of scaring you off.” Crowley didn’t step into his embrace.

“I’d rather just have what we had than try something that will make you leave me for good…”

“I can’t go back to what we were before.” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hand and gently pulled him towards him.

“Especially on such limited time….”

……

He kissed him first this time, softly at first but that didn’t last long.

His hand was on the back of Crowley’s neck and pulled his hard against his mouth.

Aziraphale felt that new, weird feeling hitting him again. From his head to his stomach and a bit lower than that….

It turned to panic.

“S…top…” his hands were shaking as he pressed them against Crowley’s chest.

“What…what is this? What am I feeling, exactly?”

Crowley stopped being upset and just looked drunk, after getting the breath kissed out of him. He grinned way too big.

“Well, hopefully lust. If I’ve done any of this right…”

“Lust?!” Aziraphale shoved him away and looked utterly appalled.

“I can’t feel lust! That’s…NO!”

“Sure fooled me.” Crowley couldn’t help but bring back that teasing tone.

He lightly licked his lips and pulled Aziraphale into another kiss.

The same kind of kiss that made mortals’ knees buckle, but the angel was no exception.

Crowley had to hold him up and gripped the back of his head. His kiss left his lips and he sucked on his neck hard enough to leave a mark.

“C…Crowley!” Aziraphale moaned his name this time and Crowley nearly turned into a puddle.

“Wait! Wait wait wait!” Aziraphale had to ruin it again.

…….

“That cannot be what’s happening! You…you’re a…”

Crowley released him and his yellow eyes were begging again.

“Please don’t call me a demon.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth and snapped it shut. He still looked mortified.

“Ok, but…I’m an angel. Angels can’t feel…that.”

“Hmmm, maybe it’s just love?” Crowley sauntered over and sounded sarcastic.

“That’s big with your lot….”

He took Aziraphale’s hand and kissed it, letting his lips linger on the tips of his fingers, before moving to his palm and kissing him there.

“Oh, come off it! I know what love feels like!”

Aziraphale looked mad, but he had to hold back a shiver, as Crowley gently raked his teeth over a sensitive part of his wrist.

“What does love feel like?” Crowley paused and his intense eyes focused on Aziraphale’s face.

Aziraphale met his gaze and knew he had to be honest in this moment. Otherwise, Crowley would crumble.

The demon was demanding the truth without really asking. He’d never ask out right.

“Obviously, I love you Crowley.” Aziraphale softly admitted.

Crowley froze, his grip too tight on Aziraphale’s arm.

“Well…that’s nice to hear.” His voice was barely audible.

“I hope I’ve made that clear. I hope you feel loved…” Aziraphale went on.

“I mean, you don’t…um, think…well…” Crowley tried to sound casual.

“But you love everyone. It’s your modus…”

“I don’t love anyone else, the way I love you.” Aziraphale made his voice firm.

Crowley swallowed hard and stopped touching him.

“I can’t, quite explain it…but you’re different. It feels different.”

Aziraphale touched his chest, right where his heart was.

“When you show up. When you’re with me…it’s different. Life feels different…”

Crowley nodded. He understood exactly what Aziraphale was describing…or hoped he did anyway.

“I’m in love with you.” He let the words pour out.

“I have been, since…Christ, since…” Crowley encouraged Aziraphale’s hands into his hair and kissed him again.

“It started in Eden.” He admitted, in between kisses.

He felt Aziraphale smile against his mouth, before he whispered.

“I’m in love with you…yes, that’s probably it. We can call it that.”

“I won’t tell anyone.” Crowley promised and buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck.

“I wish I could tell everyone.” Aziraphale admitted and hugged him tightly.

Chapter Text

“This is no laughing matter! What if God finds out?”

Aziraphale’s fear over this was real, but the fact that he wasn’t going to stop what was happening scared him more.

He was sat on the sofa, Crowley was knelt on the floor in front of him and he’d just taken off Aziraphale’s shoes.

After a tantalizing moment of feeling his hand run up his pants leg, he’d immediately flushed when Crowley burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry, Angel! It’s just…have you never heard of elastic socks? They’re quite the modern marvel...”

Aziraphale gasped and slid down the couch a bit, when Crowley yanked his leg up with one hand, set his ankle on his shoulder and lifted his pant leg.

“Most modern marvels are tacky.” Aziraphale defended his sock garters in a low voice.

“I think that’s your favorite word.” Crowley smirked and kissed the bit of bare leg he could see.

“I actually like these.” He admitted and lightly snapped one of the leather straps.

“They’re a little naughty. A tad burlesque…”

“They are no such THING!” Aziraphale yelped and covered his mouth, when Crowley tugged on a garter with his teeth.

“Good lord, I haven’t even done anything to you yet.” Crowley snickered and crawled up him, until he straddled Aziraphale’s lap.

Aziraphale stared up at the ceiling, nervously tracing the lines along the wood with his eyes.

Crowley had convinced him to take his jacket off and began to unbutton his shirt again.

“You can leave on the garters and bow tie, if it’ll make you less nervous.” Crowley noticed his averted gaze and leaned back to tease him.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are.” Aziraphale huffed and glared at him.

Crowley smiled, not unkindly, and kissed him. Aziraphale whimpered and gripped the couch cushions.

“I know you’re not going to relax any time soon, so do you want me to just keep going?”

Aziraphale looked away, his cheeks apple red, and tried to act annoyed.

“You may as well. We’re already this far…”

Crowley gently took his chin and made him look at him.

Those yellow eyes were such a pretty color. Aziraphale couldn’t remember a time when they ever scared him.

“Do you want me to keep going?” Crowley wanted a straight answer.

“Yes.” Aziraphale softly admitted.

Crowley still looked serious as he kissed him again.

“If at any point you just hate anything I’m doing, promise you’ll say so.”

“I promise.” Aziraphale agreed and arched up with a gasp when Crowley ran his hand down his chest.

“But…what am I supposed to do? During…what is happening, exactly?”

“I’m going to make you feel really good.” Crowley bluntly stated.

Aziraphale coughed lightly and sat up straight.

“Right. Ok, but…”

“And you’re going to sit back and enjoy it.” Crowley went on and finished unbuttoning his shirt.

He encouraged him to take it off and gently tugged on his white undershirt.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw your arms.” He teased and ran his long fingers up them.

“It was probably during the Roman days. I loved all your little fashion choices back then…”

Aziraphale was too absorbed by his touch to process what he was saying. He tossed his shirt away without a thought and lifted his hips, just as absentmindedly.

The friction of his crotch, against Crowley in his lap, made him bite the inside of his mouth.

“Oh!” He thought to himself, as he understood what they were building up to.

Well, he assumed he understood. But he wasn’t at all prepared for the reality of it.

He could feel his eyes were way too wide, but Crowley was still talking and hadn’t noticed.

“Ever since then, you’ve been all covered up. Like a gift someone forgot on a high shelf.”

“Modesty is…um…”

“…a shame.” Crowley finished Aziraphale’s sentence for him and kissed his collar bone.

He held his face, as his lips brushed along his jaw, and Aziraphale felt his hands shaking.

“You’re so good at faking confidence, but you always give yourself away.” He finally teased back a little, relieved the demon was actually just as nervous as he was.

“One of us has to pretend, otherwise we won’t get anywhere.” Crowley’s voice was low, as he let his hands slide over Aziraphale’s shoulders.

He wrapped his arms around him and kissed his forehead. When he felt Aziraphale’s body warm up over this, he made sure to do it several more times.

“Why is this wrong?” Aziraphale softly asked from below him.

Crowley looked down and saw his angel looked sleepy, he was already so touch drunk. He gently pushed him back against the couch and tilted his head as he considered his question.

“Hm. I think it boils down to God not being fond of anything we’d love more than Her.” He answered.

“Well, I certainly love this…but…” Aziraphale shifted and looked uncomfortable with Crowley’s implied blasphemy.

Crowley wasn’t about to let him fall into one of his mental spirals. He hated them any time, but especially right now.

“You know what I haven’t done in so long?” He changed the subject and ran his hand in Aziraphale’s undershirt.

He couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch him like this and had to hold back a thousand years of giddiness.

“What haven’t you…done in so long?” Aziraphale’s eyes were closed again as he focused on what Crowley was doing.

“Worshipped.” Crowley replied and kissed the tip of Aziraphale’s lovely nose.

“Worshipped? N…no, I suppose you haven’t.” Aziraphale was confused.

“I don’t think God expects that of you anymore…”

“I am built for it, though. All of that is still in here.” Crowley put Aziraphale’s hand on his heart and prepared to be suave as fuck.

“But I didn’t think I’d find anything worth utilizing those skills towards…unless you’ll let me….” He released Aziraphale’s hand and worked up the nerve to cup his crotch.

Aziraphale let out another yelp at the pressure and put his own hand over Crowley’s. He could feel the heat of his burning face, but he didn’t shove him away.

“Would you want to see what it’s like, on the other side of things?” Crowley almost tackled him, when he felt how hard he was.

“I…I…c…an’t be…you can’t worship me! I’m…” Aziraphale was stammering now.

“Sure I can.” Crowely was unbuttoning Aziraphale’s pants now.

“Please let me show you.”

…….

Aziraphale immediately left bruises on Crowley’s thighs, where he grabbed him, but he couldn’t help it.

Crowley didn’t mind though, and pressed back against him with a growl, as his hand slid down the front of Aziraphale’s pants.

“Definitely not a demons only thing.” He smiled as he said it and started stroking him.

“Holy…oh my…” Aziraphale hid his face in Crowley’s chest and fought cursing.

He’d never felt anything remotely like this. While romance was one of his favorite things, sex was just something humans did.

But so was eating food, until he finally tried it. Or reading books, or listening to music.

These had all become things he didn’t want to live without. Things he was willing to fight Heaven for.

And none of them compared to what he was feeling right now, though Crowley had barely done anything yet.

When Crowley’s hand moved faster, the pleasure of it caused Aziraphale’s brain to go into autopilot.

He started reciting a prayer he’d quoted millions of times, in between tiny moans and gasps.

Crowley laced his fingers through his hair and gently pulled his head back. He pressed his tongue in his mouth to silence him, before sucking on his lower lip.

“No one can hear you up there.” He got close and whispered in his ear.

“I…I know…” Aziraphale groaned when Crowley slowly twisted his palm over his tip.

“No one’s listening. It’s just you and me…”

Crowley removed his hand and lifted Aziraphale’s chin once more.

He decided that look in his eye was going to be his goal for the next two days.

“Is that ok?”

“You’re so beautiful.” Aziraphale blurted out without answering Crowley’s question.

“I always thought so, but I didn’t understand…”

Crowley’s hair and those eyes were alluring, in an artistic way. But Aziraphale had never let himself admire his looks they way they deserved.

“You think so?” Crowley was pleased with his compliment. Ecstatic.

“I do. I…” Aziraphale was interrupted by Crowley sliding off his lap and back to his knees.

“I think you’re gorgeous.” He smiled up at Aziraphale and started taking his pants off.

…….

“Oh, good boy.” Crowley sighed when Aziraphale lifted up with zero hesitation.

He pulled his pants down to his knees, before licking his own palm and rising back up to waist height.

Aziraphale actually shouted, when he started stroking him again, and slapped his hand over his mouth.

“No, no no…” Crowley whispered and grabbed his arm to gently pull it away.

“I want to hear everything. Here…” he snapped his fingers. The fake candles dimmed even more and the bookshop became sound proof.

Aziraphale couldn’t help it. He covered his mouth with his fingers and prayed in his head, as Crowley licked him from base to tip.

“Um…um um…” he stammered out and squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s ok. Humans do this all the time.” Crowley’s voice was husky.

“You love doing human things.”

He raked his teeth over Aziraphale’s bare thigh, which was one of his favorite parts of him.

Aziraphale gripped Crowley’s hair at this and Crowley had to resist biting that thigh, like he’d fantasized doing so many times.

Instead, he took Aziraphale’s cock in his mouth as deep as he could. The noises he’d hoped to hear came spilling out of his angel.

“F…fuck, Crowley! Jesus Christ…”

Crowley chuckled as he worked him, the vibration making it all the more pleasurable.

Azirphale was immediately a quivering mess and collapsed over him, gripping the back of his shirt and vocalizing, like only someone who’d been a virgin for millennia would.

Crowley knew things wouldn’t last long, when they got to this point, but even he was surprised.

Aziraphale came hard and fast, almost biting through his lower lip and sounding like he was going to cry.

Crowley didn’t slow down. He swallowed all the evidence and didn’t stop until Aziraphale begged him to.

“That’s…t…too much!” He cried out and pulled Crowley’s hair.

Crowley sat back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He smiled up at Aziraphale, expecting him to look shocked and overwhelmed with his first orgasm.

Instead, Aziraphale had a very different expression. One Crowley hadn’t seen, at least not this intensely, since he’d first tempted him with food.

He suddenly understood what that roasted ox must have felt like.

Crowley swallowed hard and felt a thrill of nervous excitement.

“What else can we do? There is more to it, right?” Aziraphale demanded.

Chapter Text

“I don’t want you to go back.” Crowley didn’t plan on quietly announcing this, but he was overtaken with emotions and couldn’t help it.

Aziraphale heard him, but the words didn’t mean anything. Nothing anyone said would have gotten through to him, at the moment.

He was too busy making love, for the forth time in the last few hours, in his bed upstairs.

Said bed creaked and Aziraphale had to hold back a lot, or risk breaking it. He’d never been distracted enough to not hide how strong he was, but he struggled now.

Crowley didn’t repeat his statement, yet. Instead, he did his best to watch his angel’s face.

He’d never quite understood why he would watch Aziraphale eat, all these centuries.

He’d known it had something to do with this, but refused to think too hard on it.

But he understood now. The way Aziraphale’s eyes changed, when he experienced pleasure, was so entrancing.

Not even in a sexual way. It was just a relief to see his mind shut off, even for an instant.

Because, despite his warm, sunny demeanor, Crowley understood Aziraphale was a walking tangle of cognitive dissonance.

The constant battle between his morals and Heaven’s lack there of, was always raging through that mind of his…unless he was enjoying himself.

Crowley wished him freedom from this always, without such specific circumstances, but he wasn’t complaining at the moment.

…….

“Is this better?” Aziraphale’s voice was low and deep.

This entire time, his weight had felt possessive, as if he were afraid Crowley would disappear at any moment.

Crowley adored being yearned for so deeply, but he loved what Aziraphale had just figured out.

“Yes…fuck.” It was Crowley’s turn to cover his mouth and curse, as Aziraphale lifted his legs over his shoulders, before settling back on top of him.

All Crowley had to do was explain the mechanics of same sex intercourse, and Aziraphale had jumped in with zero hesitation.

Crowley would never tease him over this, out loud, but it was certainly the least surprising thing about his angel.

Aziraphale kissed the closet parts of Crowley he could reach, before hiding his face in his nape and thrusting again.

“Jesus, just like that!” Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s back and got a bit too loud.

“Stop saying His name.” Aziraphale covered Crowley’s mouth with his hand and spoke roughly in his ear.

“Sorry.” Crowley moaned under his palm and laughed internally.

Jesus’s name had been used far more than one another’s tonight. It became awkward, considering they both knew the man personally.

Aziraphale uncovered his mouth and gently shoved Crowley’s head to the side, so he could kiss down his jaw and to his chest.

Crowley wrapped his legs around him tighter and let himself feel good.

This wasn’t the dynamic he’d expected between the two of them, but he’d quickly learned Aziraphale was all about having control and giving orders.

And that Crowley, himself, liked being told what to do.

Aziraphale would never tease him over this, out loud, but it was certainly the least surprising thing about his demon.

…….

Crowley’s third favorite part of this night, was being allowed in Aziraphale’s bedroom.

He’d always been curious, but had never given in and opened the door. Not even for a nap, when Aziraphale was gone.

It was the softest, coziest and least used room in his bookshop.

“Why do you sleep so much?” Aziraphale asked from above him.

They’d finally taken a break, and Crowley had shyly requested a short nap…specifically with Aziraphale holding him to his chest.

“We don’t have to sleep at all, but I swear that’s what you were always doing, any time I called.”

“It’s nice.” Crowley defended himself and snuggled closer.

“Like being dead, but without the commitment.”

“That’s a dark way of seeing it.” Aziraphale frowned, before kissing the top of his head and holding him tightly.

“You and death, in the same conversation…I don’t think that’s something I’ll allow in here.”

“Allow?” Crowley grinned.

He’d let himself to get drowsy, but he couldn’t help but pull himself up and straddle Aziraphale.

“I’ve missed your bossiness, Archangel…” he started to tease.

“Don’t call me that.” Aziraphale quickly interrupted him, and sat up to lean back on the headboard.

He looked at Crowley, who was in his lap now, and had that same, distant gaze again.

“I’m sorry.” Crowley apologized and rested his forehead on his, before kissing him.

“I’m sorry I don’t sleep.” Aziraphale shrugged and changed the subject.

“It seems like such a waste of time, especially considering the circumstances…”

“But maybe you should…before you go back.” Crowley gently coaxed him.

He hadn’t come to terms with Aziraphale going back to Heaven, but he managed to fake it for now.

“You won’t get to shut off up there.”

“No. No, I won’t…” Aziraphale stared at the yellow wall to the left of them.

“I’ll miss color.” He softly admitted.

Crowley had to hold back a giant wave of sadness, lest he make this moment worse.

“I’ve always wanted to wake up to you.” He whispered and hugged Aziraphale around the shoulders.

“At least once. Just to see what it’s like…”

…….

Aziraphale didn’t quite fall asleep. He was bad at that, unless he had a headache.

But he managed to go through the motions, until he felt Crowley’s weight settle on him and his breathing deepen.

They laid this way for a few hours, with Aziraphale running his fingers through Crowley’s hair and listening to his slight snoring.

Any human would get bored of this, no matter how much they loved someone. But for Aziraphale, it was the third most interesting thing he could imagine doing.

“We should go somewhere today.” He decided.

Wherever Crowley wanted to go, even if it was one of those loud, senseless nightclubs…

He’d go with him anywhere. He hated how long it took him to realize that, and how helpless he was to do so.

It wasn’t fair. It was cruel.

Aziraphale’s lament was interrupted, when he felt Crowley shift and gradually wake up. He faked being asleep himself.

Crowley believed his acting and yawned as quietly as possible, before raising up to lightly kiss his cheek.

Aziraphale opened one eye to watch him sneak out of bed and silently make his way to the door, picking his clothes off the the floor as he went.

Chapter Text

(How did last night go? Did you two talk?)

Crowley blew flour off his phone, before reading Beth’s text.

(None of your business), he playfully bullied back.

He went back to shifting flour, until his phone vibrated again.

(Yay! What did you do afterwards? Dinner and dancing?)

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh at her reading between lines that weren’t even there.

(Are you cashing in a favor? Or are you just bothering me?) he texted, while cracking an egg in a bowl with one hand.

(I’m actually in class and having a bit of an existential crisis. You could do me a favor and tell me what God is like. Or Satan even 😈), Beth replied.

Crowley wouldn’t admit it, but he liked having a human to banter with, but it involved a lot of baby steps.

He wouldn’t text Beth back for a few hours, just for giggles.

“Right…he doesn’t have any milk.” He muttered to to himself as he opened Aziraphale’s small fridge.

His eyes fell on glass bottle of orange juice and considered it for a moment.

With a shrug, he snapped his fingers, transforming the juice into fresh, cold milk.

“Try that one some time, Jesus.” He glanced up as he measured and poured it in the mixing bowl.

This reminded him of a conversation he and Aziraphale needed to have, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to pretend this was his new life, if only for one more day.

……..

“There is no way.” Aziraphale had to hold back a laugh, when his suspicions were all but confirmed.

He’d heard Crowley tinkering away downstairs, seemingly from his kitchenette. But until the yummy smells made their way up here, he’d never have believed it.

That demon was making breakfast. Cooking!

A year ago, Aziraphale would have dismissed such an unlikely idea. But he’d learned a lot of unlikely things about Crowley last night.

He threw on his white robe and tiptoed downstairs. His record player was playing something lovely, at a low volume, and coffee had just joined the host of pleasant smells.

Crowley nearly jumped out of his slippers, when Aziraphale lightly knocked and slid the door open.

“Don’t say a word! Just accept it!” Crowley held his hand out and was blushing terribly.

“Just accept it?” Aziraphale’s eye were already crinkling with humor, as he took in the sight of a demon wearing his apron.

It had a cheerful pattern that clashed dramatically with Crowley’s black clothes. It was covered in flour and food stains.

“Since when do you cook? I can’t recall the last time I saw you ingest anything that didn’t contain alcohol…”

“It’s been over twenty years.” Crowley admitted and turned back to the stove to flip a crepe.

He tried to leave it at that but Aziraphale pushed.

“Were you cooking for yourself? Or…a mortal? Why on earth…?”

“I learned for you, idiot.” Crowley muttered and transferred another perfect crepe on a plate and covered them with a clean dish towel.

“And I only ever cooked in class. But Chef Studebaker said I had a knack…”

He didn’t hear Aziraphale step closer, until he was only two feet away from his back.

“Of course, the other students couldn’t stand me. Probably because I’d always Miracle their soufflés to fall.” He snorted.

“They blamed me, without knowing how I’d even managed…such a thing.”

He turned around with a mischievous grin, that fell when he saw how close Aziraphale was. His blush came back.

“You took cooking classes for me?” Aziraphale scanned the counter and saw a fanciful mix of fillings and sides to go along with the crepes.

“Why did you wait so long to show me?”

Crowley swallowed hard and went back to his skillet. He tried to sound casual as he poured batter into it.

“I almost did but….well, it’s not really my style, so…so it would have made you suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Aziraphale stepped beside him and tried to get him to look at him.

“Yeah, because I’m a demon, you know? I figured you’d think, ‘What is he buttering me up for? Something evil, probably…’”

Aziraphale felt a pang of guilt. There was a time where he’d have thought exactly that.

“And even if that weren’t the case, how embarrassing is this, am I right…?”

Crowley looked over to see Aziraphale smiling warmly at that and shaking his head.

“You’re going to hate this…” he slowly admitted.

“Oh Satan, what?” Crowley groaned and dropped his spatula.

“Have you sworn off French cuisine again? I know that one waiter was rude to you, that one time, but your ban only lasted a week…”

“No, no…um… it’s just that, well…this may be the cutest thing I’ve ever witnessed.” Aziraphale carefully notified him and braced for his reaction.

What he predicted played through exactly as he expected.

“Cute!” Crowely growled and started to untie the apron, his cheeks as red as the cherry reduction he’d slaved over.

“That is literally the worst thing you could have said! I’m demonic! Anything cute within me was burned away by boiled sulfur!”

“Oh, of course, and that’s very…hardcore? Am I using that properly?” Aziraphale was grinning as he moved to help Crowley with his apron.

“It’s cool! Sexy people cook!” Crowley swatted his hands away and yanked the apron over his head.

“Hm, so sexy was your goal? Goodness, I don’t know what I would have done with that twenty years ago.” Aziraphale teased.

“Cute? Cute. Dammit, you’re such a damn marshmallow head!” Crowley whipped around and glared at him.

“I’m quite fond of cute.” Aziraphale wasn’t at all phased by the marshmallow head comment.

“In fact, cute is probably my favorite thing. And I think it looks wonderful on you.”

Crowley’s shoulders relaxed and his cheeks were only pink now.

“Shut up.” He halfheartedly waved Aziraphale away. Aziraphale took the opportunity to grab his hand.

“Everything looks wonderful on you. Even your grouchy little attitude.” He grinned and kissed Crowley’s fingers.

“And my sexiness.” Crowley insisted, even though he was already melting at Aziraphale’s touch.

“I’ll have to get used to thinking that way, but yes.” Aziraphale agreed, moving his kisses to Crowley’s hand.

Crowley was blushing for a completely different reason, when they made eye contact.

That’s all it took for him to pounce on Aziraphale, who had him off the ground and against the wall within seconds.

…….

“You could at least have a sprinkler system in THIS room!” Crowley spoke in between coughs as he opened the single window, over the sink.

“I get not having one over the books, but…”

“I didn’t think about it!” Aziraphale fanned the cloud of black smoke away from the ruined crepe, with his robe.

“I’ve never burned anything in my life, especially while cooking!”

“I watched you burn down a church.” Crowley threw the blackened crepe in the sink and grinned at him.

“Oh, that’s right!” Aziraphale put his hand to his bare chest and looked appalled for a moment.

Chapter Text

“You’re enjoying it?” Aziraphale didn’t try to hold back his delight.

He was standing with Crowley in his large, minimalistic bedroom, taking in his “library”.

“I was enjoying it.” Crowley admitted.

He showed him where he’d marked his page in one of many books, tucked underneath his large bed.

“I do wish you didn’t dog ear the poor thing.” Aziraphale pouted.

“I would have miracled you a bookmark at any time…or handed you a leaf from a tree.”

“This is what I was reading, before all the apocalypse business happened.” Crowley explained and snapped the book shut.

“Shax may have let me grab a few of these…but there was no way in Hell I’d let her see them.”

“Why ever not?” Aziraphale took the copy of ‘The Magpie Lord’ and held it to his chest.

“Demons don’t read.” Crowley scoffed and sat on his bed.

“Most of them can’t, so you can imagine how it would effect my reputation.”

“But you do it anyway.” Aziraphale was smiling so big.

“After all your nay saying and teasing me about my shop. You have the beginnings of your very own…”

“I do. Though, nowadays I mostly download them on my phone…” Crowley took a deep breath and resisted not speaking his mind.

“Download?” Aziraphale wondered to himself.

“But why? Never in a million years would I have…” he was chuckling, as he lifted the covers to look under the bed.

Row after row of neatly stacked books, shoved back as far against the wall as possible.

“Because they’re important to you, and…agh, never mind.” Crowley huffed and started to stand.

“Please don’t say never mind.” Aziraphale’s voice became soft as he sat next to him on the bed.

Crowley groaned and let his face fall to his hands. He muttered something that Aziraphale couldn’t hear.

“I’m sorry dear, I didn’t catch that…”

“Reading made me feel…close to you.” Crowley spoke out of the side of his mouth and refused to look up.

He missed Aziraphale practically puffing up with joy. Like a pleased owl.

“You’ve had quite the crush on me.” He teased and scooted close enough to lean on Crowely.

“I loved you.” Crowley quickly corrected him and finally looked up.

“Oh…” Aziraphale’s confidence fled as he sat straight.

“For so long. I didn’t know that’s what it was, I just…God, it just got to where I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Crowley went on.

Aziraphale wasn’t used to him talking this way. Especially about him. He’d never have imagined…

Crowley stood to face him and tried to find the words.

“We’d go years without seeing one another. Then you’d pop up in a cafe, or one time…you were sitting on a blanket, in a field of flowers.” He smiled to himself as he remembered.

“All lit up by the sun, and reading. Always with your nose in a book. Just a bizarre little angel with a human habit.”

“Bizarre?” Aziraphale frowned.

“Bizarre enough to keep me interested.” Crowley knelt on the floor in front of Aziraphale’s legs.

“Bizarre enough to make me wonder about you day and night. It was irritating, if I’m being honest.”

He laid his head in Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale pet his hair and listened to more of his silly flattery.

“Living alone would get unbearable, so I’d search for you. I told myself I was going to bother you…give you some trouble.” Crowley looked up and closed his eyes when Aziraphale held his face.

“But you always looked so happy to see me. No one ever looked at me like that before…” he sighed and pressed himself closer.

“You were always in the middle of the most mundane…cutest…human task.”

Crowley snickered and laid his head back down.

“Your magic tricks. And you bought that bookshop with money you earned. Weird little angel…”

“Says the demon who treats his car like it’s his own child.” Aziraphale teased back.

“The Bentley is my baby and you’ll keep it out of this.” Crowely only half joked and pulled himself up to stand.

“Though, I’m not surprised it likes you better.” He said as he lifted Aziraphale’s chin.

“You’re very likable, Angel.” his voice was low as he ran his thumb along Aziraphale lower lip.

“Oh, well I’m sure your plants miss you terribly, at least.” Aziraphale reassured him.

He was too busy kissing Crowley’s hand to see his head jerk towards the door.

“They’re not dead?” He whispered.

Chapter Text

“Why aren’t you touching me?” Aziraphale asked in his head.

He was walking next to Crowely, down the long hallway that led to the elevators in his apartment complex.

Perfectly within hand holding distance. Or arm around his waist distance. Or push me against this wall distance.

“Stop!” He thought to himself.

He was on the verge of worrying if he had a problem. One he was doing a good job of hiding, so far.

But each sweet thing Crowley did or said, was fueling this new fire he’d lit in Aziraphale.

He needed to be touched.

It almost felt like when he’d discovered human food. That physical awakening had been overwhelming, but not to this degree.

Learning that he’d been starving, since his creation, had been a bit embarrassing, when it only resulted in his eating an entire ox.

But the need to be touched involved another person. Specifically one he cared for, more than anything.

He couldn’t lose himself in Crowley the same way, without his enthusiastic consent.

Self control was supposed to come naturally to angels. But that, like so many things, turned out to be a lie.

The confessions about the books and how long he’d been loved, from a distance, made Aziraphale happier than he knew what to do with.

But he still couldn’t understand why they’d even gotten out of bed this morning. Or why anyone would, if they could have sex instead.

……

Crowley was walking beside him, but a half a step ahead. Something he’d always done, since his legs were so long.

Now, Aziraphale was borderline offended by this.

“What aren’t you touching me?” His thoughts demanded again.

He’d almost found the words to casually verbalize this, when a door opened, down the hall.

Two humans stepped out, a man and woman.

They were laughing at something one of them had said, and the man draped his arm over his partner’s shoulder, to hold her close as they headed towards the elevators as well.

The way humans smiled and fell into one another, had always been a darling thing to Aziraphale. But now he envied them.

“Aw…” he worked up the nerve to hint at this, when Crowley accidentally insulted him further.

“On your left.” He casually passed the couple, with barely a glance.

This allowed a two human distance to appear between himself and Aziraphale, for just a moment.

Aziraphale knew he was being somewhat irrational, but he reacted anyway.

“Anthony.” He wasn’t loud, but he’d put on his “bossy” voice, as Crowley called it.

The couple turned to look at him, and Crowley looked confused over the tops their of heads.

“Who? Oh, wait…that’s me.”

Aziraphale made a beeline for him, walking towards the couple, who had to separate to let him pass.

“Hey!” The man puffed up, but Aziraphale ignored him as he grabbed Crowley’s hand and dragged him towards the lift.

“Since when do you call me Anthony?” Crowley was laughing as he was pulled along.

“What did I do wrong?”

Aziraphale didn’t reply. Instead, he snapped his fingers and the elevator doors opened.

He shoved Crowley in, not too roughly, and followed after him.

“Hold the doors…at least.”

The woman in the hall grabbed her husband’s arm in shock, when Aziraphale shoved Crowley against the wall and kissed him.

They had time to see him yank the taller man’s sunglasses off, before they were all over one another. He was roughly untucking Crowley’s shirt as the door slid shut once more.

“We’ll just get the next one.” The woman muttered to her partner.

…….

“Oh dear, you poor thing.” Crowley was teasing him, but he did sympathize over his angel’s plight.

Aziraphale shushed him, before snapping his fingers to stop the lift.

He’d started undoing Crowely’s buttons and almost fell when the elevator halted faster than he’d intended.

“Easy, slow down.” Crowley spoke gently and caught him.

“It’s ok, I’m not…” He was interrupted by Aziraphale grabbing his lapels and yanking him into another hard kiss.

“…going anywhere.” He finished, breathless as Aziraphale let him go and went back to undressing him.

“No, but I am.” Aziraphale replied as he ran his hands in Crowley’s under shirt and held him close.

“Just stay.” Crowley whispered and put his hand on Aziraphale’s head as he kissed down his chest.

“We’ll live in this lift. They’ll never find us…”

Aziraphale wasn’t listening again. Crowley enjoyed his intensity, but it was inconvenient, with their limited time together.

“Here.” He took Aziraphale by the shoulders and easily turned him against the wall instead.

Aziraphale tried to argue. Crowley misunderstood what he wanted, but those hands of his….

“Since you can’t wait until you get home…” Crowley purred as he knelt down and started undoing Aziraphale’s pants.

“W…wait, hold on.” Aziraphale resisted letting him continue and pulled him up off his knees.

“What…oof!” Crowley huffed when Aziraphale made them switch places again. The elevator shook with the force of his back hitting it.

Aziraphale was unsure, but he cupped Crowley between his legs and tried to look seductive.

He was shocked when Crowley’s face turned the color of his hair.

“Oh…ok. A…are you sure?”

“I am.” But Aziraphale’s hands were shaking as he tried to take off Crowley’s belt.

“Well, this is a bit different than what you’ve been doing. Kind of…in your face.” Crowley couldn’t help but try to be funny.

“You do it for me.” Aziraphale insisted and tossed Crowely’s snake belt behind him.

Crowley watched it clatter on the floor and got even more flustered.

“Well, y…yeah but…I mean…I don’t know, I like to…”

“How will I know if I like it, if I don’t try?” Aziraphale asked.

“Good point. But your lovely clothes…don’t ruin them on my account.” Crowley spoke sincerely and kept Aziraphale from sinking to his knees again.

Aziraphale was made very aware he was wearing his favorite pants. He’d kept them in perfect condition for over two hundred years…and the floor was awfully dirty.

“Oh, stop. Of all times to worry about that…” he argued in his head and kissed Crowley again.

They made out for a minute or so, groping one another in a silent fight over who got to take care of who.

This was interrupted by the lift’s intercom switching on above them and a voice coming from it.

……..

“S’cuse me gents…I thought I’d go ahead and let you know we can ah…see what you’re up to.”

Crowley’s eyes darted up to ceiling and found the small security camera, pointed directly at them.

“Take care of that.” Aziraphale muttered.

He brushed off their being watched and started sucking on Crowley’s ear.

Crowley melted and encouraged him with all the sounds he was making.

“Right…maybe they can’t hear me.” The man on intercom sounded beyond flustered.

“W…welp, help is on the way, if you are listening. We’ve got someone coming to fix the lift so…stay calm?”

Aziraphale shoved his hand down Crowley’s pants and the voice panicked.

“Alright, ok…oh dear.”

Crowley let out a growling laugh, when Aziraphale started stroking him. He managed to focus enough and snapped his fingers.

The camera clicked off and the speaker box let out a puff of smoke. Now they were actually alone.

“Have it your way.” Crowley gave in to whatever Aziraphale wanted to try.

…….

It started out badly.

Aziraphale gingerly knelt, careful to avoid pressing his knees too hard in the carpet.

As aroused as he was, he did love these pants.

Still, he managed to slide Crowley’s own pants down and attempted to perform exactly as he did.

By taking him in his throat far too fast and too deep.

This resulted in him gagging horribly and pulling away to cough like he’d been choked.

“Woah! Oops, ok! Hold on…” Crowley tried to hold in his laughter and knelt down to his level.

Aziraphale’s eyes were watering and he was awfully embarrassed.

“That move is a bit advanced for you.” Crowley lightly teased and held his face.

He was all worked up now, but he managed to stay patient and speak gently.

Aziraphale tried to hide in his hand. He looked humiliated and was still coughing lightly.

“Sorry. That was stupid, I shouldn’t have…”

“Don’t ever apologize for…well, choking on, ah…” Crowley couldn’t explain how hot it was, to someone so out of touch with sexual norms.

“You just need practice.” He reassured him instead, and lightly ran his thumb over Aziraphale’s lips.

Aziraphale’s kissed it and looked up at him with heavy lidded eyes. He was so pretty when he was a horny mess.

Crowley pondered something for a moment, before gently sticking his entire thumb in Aziraphale’s mouth.

“Suck on it.” He ordered.

Aziraphale didn’t hesitate to close his lips around Crowley’s thumb and do exactly that. He shut his eyes and slowly bobbed his head.

Crowley gently gripped his hair with his other hand, and used it to encourage Aziraphale to go faster.

“Suck harder….tighter. Yeah, just like that…”

Aziraphale did as he was told and made eye contact as he did so. Crowley was more turned on than he had been in…well, hours.

“See? You don’t have to shove anything down your throat to make someone cum. It’s nice, but not necessary….”

He felt Aziraphale nod like he understood. But he’d closed his eyes and was transfixed on his thumb.

Crowley let this go on for a few more moments, just enjoying the sensation.

He couldn’t believe this is where their relationship ended up.

“You want the real thing again, don’t you?” He finally asked.

He pulled Aziraphale’s head back once more. His blue eyes looked almost sleepy again.

“Yes…if that’s ok…”

Crowley missed the dominant quality Aziraphale had displayed, since all this started.

Having him on his knees was incredibly flattering, but….

“I’m going to try something, though.” Aziraphale stood suddenly and pulled Crowley up with him.

He grabbed Crowley’s slim waist with both hands and lifted him with ease.

“Ah! Try what, exactly?” Crowley stammered.

“Put your legs over my shoulders.” Aziraphale demanded and lifted him higher.

“I’ll hold you up, just lean back…that’s right.”

Aziraphale’s face was at crotch level once more, but Crowley was off the ground now, with his legs wrapped around his angel’s neck.

“This is a new one.” he whispered huskily, as Aziraphale kissed his tip and gently nibbled down rest of him.

Crowley had to use Aziraphale’s head for balance and moaned as he slowly pulled him into his mouth.

Aziraphale paused and smiled up at him, causing Crowley to groan impatiently.

“You were right, the floor is just too filthy. And you look so lovely, this high up.”

“Right where you should be.” He thought to himself.

Chapter Text

“Do you want to stop anywhere, along the way? We can do whatever you want.”

Crowley spoke sweetly to Aziraphale, as they stepped out of the elevator.

Their clothes weren’t set as neatly as when they’d gone in and Crowley’s hair was sticking up like a mad scientist’s.

Aziraphale made a note to fix this for him, once he was finished enjoying how cute it was.

Crowley held him close as they walked, with his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders, and gave him a quick kiss on top of his head.

All of this put a smug look on Aziraphale’s face, despite the humans gathered nearby and glaring at them as they passed.

He glanced about, before letting his eyes hit the floor. Now that he’d calmed down a bit, he was embarrassed over their accidental exhibitionism.

What was he thinking, seducing Crowley like that? In a room with a camera?

That poor, embarrassed security guard…

He looked over his shoulder to see what shared the human’s attention.

The elevator wasn’t broken, before they went in, but it was now. It’s lights were flickering and it creaked so loudly, no one was brave enough to step into it.

“What the hell did you do in there, Mr.Crowley?”

……

Crowley turned to see a familiar face, with whom he’d spoken to once a month for years, until Shax took over his flat.

His previous landlord, Mrs.Copperfield, was a grouchy woman, but only because Crowley would often drop off his rent checks late, on purpose.

“Nothing insurance won’t cover, love.” Crowley dismissed her with a smirk and held Aziraphale tighter.

He tried to walk away with him, but the angel wouldn’t budge.

“You should fix that.” he whispered sternly.

“Aw, come on, Angel…”

“We broke something of hers, in a fit of, uh…”

“Lust.” Crowley breathed the word into his ear, with a smile.

“Irresponsibility.” Aziraphale blushed, but corrected him with a snooty sniff.

“Either way, it’s only right…”

“Insurance won’t cover it!” Mrs. Copperfield was upset and motioned inside the lift.

“What reason could I possibly present that would explain…this?”

Crowley watched one of the ceiling tiles fall, right where he’d jerked his head up too fast on Aziraphale’s shoulders.

What his angel quickly learned to do with his mouth, had dulled any pain that bonk may have caused…

Crowley growled under his breath, pulled Aziraphale along again, and snapped his fingers.

Mrs.Copperfield, the maintenance men, and Crowley’s neighbors all screamed, as the lift doors closed and it’s cables snapped.

The metal screeched and squealed as it fell down the shaft.

“Tell them it was a manufacturing issue!” Crowley called over his shoulder.

“They’re lucky no one died.” He finished, as the sound of the elevator, crashing below, briefly deafened everyone.

…….

“That wasn’t what I meant and you know it.” Aziraphale halfheartedly chastised him, once they were outside.

“What? She’ll get a great big pay out.” Crowley insisted and leaned on the Bentley.

“Just a good deed disguised as property damage.” He smirked and poked Aziraphale’s nose.

“That’s how you like me. And anyway, I can’t have Hell suspecting I’m doing anything too kind. They’ll find out I’m free of Sheila soon and pay attention.”

“They knew she had you and didn’t help? Ugh, disgusting.” Aziraphale’s face was set with an angry, and deeply thoughtful, expression.

“You really have been all alone down here.”

“What else is new?” Crowley casually shrugged and opened the Bentley’s back door for him.

“Besides, it is Hell we’re talking about.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale agreed, but he was still lost in upsetting thoughts.

“Hey, I’m alright now.” Crowley finally noticed and lifted his chin.

“Let’s do something fun, yeah? I’ll take you anywhere you’d like…”

“I’d like to show you your plants.” Aziraphale insisted and took Crowley’s hand.

“I think spreading them about the shop would make it feel more, um… well, they would look nice.”

“Sure!” Crowley perked up at this. He’d truly thought his poor plants were all dead, after he abandoned them.

“The car knows the way, though.” He insisted and motioned for Aziraphale to get in the back seat.

He wiggled his eyebrows at him over his sunglasses.

Aziraphale looked smug again, but rolled his eyes as he climbed in.

“You old serpent.”

“What?” Crowley snickered and followed after him.

“Your hair looks utterly mad, by the way.” Aziraphale replied, as Crowley slammed the door and the Bentley zoomed off.

……

“What have you been feeding them?” Crowley was shocked over how big his plants were now.

They were in Aziraphale’s storage room, at the far end of the bookshop’s upstairs. It had two windows that provided the perfect amount of sunlight for them.

In the corner, there was a large cage that held a single white bunny. Aziraphale was feeding Harry a snack, while Crowely and his greenery got reacquainted.

“You mentioned you spoke to them, so I had Muriel do the same, after they found them in the alley behind the bookshop.” Aziraphale explained and closed the cage door.

“Before they put me on complete lock down, up there.” He dusted his hands off and glanced towards Heaven.

“Muriel let me know that someone had…ah…dumped these back there.”

Crowley looked down at his feet, before gently grasping the leaf of a particularly large elephant ear plant.

“I was…pissed off.” He shrugged and seemed to say this to the foliage.

“I came back for them all the next day. But they were already gone.” He gave Aziraphale a sad look.

“I just assumed the garbage man stopped by early…”

He gently squeezed the leaf between his thumb and forefinger, before dropping it.

“Thank you. I’m such an idiot.”

“Not at all. Everyone reacts poorly, when they’re upset.” Aziraphale reassured him.

“It‘s what we do afterwards that matters more. I think changed behavior is the sincerest apology.”

He grabbed his own, bright yellow, watering can from the windowsill and shook it to see how full it was.

“You’re just lucky Muriel is so observant. And I swear I didn’t tell them who they belonged to.” He assured Crowley and pat his shoulder.

Crowley sighed, before looking confused.

“What did you have that angel talk to them about? I wasn’t always…the nicest, when I did it but it worked.”

One of the plants rustled at that. Crowley gave it a measured look and it stopped.

“Yeah, alright, I know…” he muttered at it.

“New leaves turn slowly, as you would know.”

Aziraphale’s eyes darted between Crowely and his fern. He’d had no idea about this dynamic.

“They react to you….”

“Yeah, objects tend to do that, after being around me for a while.” Crowley spoke casually and started checking the soil in all the pots.

“The Bentley was a regular car, a hundred years ago. I guess…whatever it is about me, wakes something up in things.”

“Indeed.” Aziraphale smiled warmly at him and passed him the watering can.

“I had Muriel compliment them.” He answered the question Crowley had asked earlier.

“Pfft, what?” Crowley scoffed and snapped his fingers. The can filled with water instantly.

“You’ve made them soft.” He insisted and slightly glared at a vine that was draped over the window.

It started shaking under his gaze.

“You stop that!” Aziraphale chastised Crowely and stepped between him and the plant.

“What? I’ve never actually hurt one of them.” Crowley snickered and stared down a pothos.

“You shouldn’t take your feelings out on anyone, especially things that are helpless against you.” Aziraphale huffed and pet the poor vine.

“I know you’ve been terribly hurt, but it’s not their fault.”

Crowley was cross suddenly. He didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“My method worked just fine. It has nothing to do with anything anyone did to me…”

“You poor dear.” Aziraphale interrupted and spoke to the plant himself, while gently stroking it’s leaves.

“Don’t pay any attention to that mean old demon. He’s been going through a lot…for a very very long time now.”

“Christ.” Crowley rolled his eyes and set the can down too hard.

“Can you not talk about me like I’m not here?”

Aziraphale ignored him and started humming a tune, before continuing to speak sweetly to the plant.

“You’re such a pretty thing and you’re doing a wonderful job. Everything a plant is meant to do, you’re executing it perfectly…”

“Oh, please.” Crowley scowled and crossed his arms, but his eyes opened wide a second later.

The vine, nearest Aziraphale’s hand, started to twist slightly, before doing something he’d never seen any of his plants do.

It reminded him of a nature documentary he’d seen on television once, where they filmed and fast forwarded a rose’s growth cycle.

The vine produced a flower, where there was nothing but green a moment before. The bloom was the same color as Crowley’s eyes, which he pretended not to notice.

“See?” Aziraphale looked absolutely pleased with himself.

He gave the plant a small wave before strolling over to Crowley.

“Kindness is a better healer than whatever you’ve been putting yourself through.” He didn’t hesitate to take Crowley’s face in his hands.

Crowley was confused but quickly relaxed at his touch.

“You’re such a pretty demon. And you’ve failed at the worst things expected of you, because you’re so good…”

Crowley’s eyes widened even more at this word.

“I’ve only seen you unhappy when you’re trying to be cruel. That’s an act you can completely drop now, but only if…”

Crowley was tuned out now and didn’t hear the next part. Aziraphale’s words made him feel like a flower would bloom out of his head.

His eyes focused on his lips, but not his words, and he leaned forward to kiss him.

“Later.” Aziraphale covered his mouth with his hand and gently pushed Crowley back.

“Help me with these.” His tone became all business and he picked up the nearest plant pot.

It was large and heavy, but he lifted it like it was a pillow.

“W…what?” Crowley felt like he was waking up from a spell. His body was hot and he almost wanted to cry.

A very odd combination.

“I told you, we’re making the bookshop more comfortable for you.” Aziraphale explained and left the room with the pot.

“I want it to feel like home, once I go back to Heaven.”

Chapter Text

“How do they look?” Aziraphale made a square with his hands and looked through it, to frame the room.

The combination of his books and Crowley’s plants was charming. Like walking into a library that was being taken back by nature.

“I love it.” Crowley was honest, but he didn’t sound glad.

“Does it make you happy?” He asked Aziraphale and adjusted a set of vines that cascaded down the side of a bookshelf.

“Oh yes. They’re lovely!” Aziraphale clasped his hands and took in his shop’s new appearance.

He hadn’t noticed the leaves following him like he was the sun, or their vines reaching for him, ever so slightly.

Like the Bentley, even Crowley’s houseplants wanted to be close to his angel.

Crowley couldn’t blame them.

He let out a depressed, huffing breath and threw on a smile.

“What else would make you happy?” He inquired, ready to invite Aziraphale on a date again.

“If you’d agree to move in here, once I’m gone.” Aziraphale answered, his third time asking.

Crowley refused to look at him, lest he see how angry his pestering over this subject made him.

“I gave you my answer, Angel. Please, leave it alone.”

He walked over and snatched his glasses off their statue and slid them on.

“Now come on! Let me take you the Ritz! We’ll catch a show and I’ll rock your world when we get back…”

“Crowley. Please stay here.”

Crowley didn’t have many weaknesses. Of the few he did have, the vast majority had to do with Aziraphale.

Especially when he said ‘please’. When he asked him for anything, telling him ‘no’ took real effort.

Aziraphale was aware of this, so when Crowley faced him, he made sure to make his eyes extra big and sad.

“I just want you to be as secure as possible. You’re safe here. More than anywhere else on this planet, at least.”

Crowley groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. There was another argument coming and he didn’t want to waste their limited time together on it.

“We have to think of the long term.” Aziraphale went on.

“I’m leaving tomorrow and I need to know that I’m not abandoning you to how you were living before.”

He walked over and took both Crowley’s hands, his eyes still begging.

“Blacking out in bathrooms? Drinking until you can’t think…”

“That’s the point. I don’t want to think.” Crowley replied and took his hands away.

“It’s not like it’s hurting me. I’m not human…”

“It is hurting you!” Aziraphale insisted and placed his hand on Crowley’s chest.

“Your heart and your mind. You’re drowning yourself and not living.”

“I’d rather not, actually.” Crowley shrugged but placed his hand over Aziraphale’s.

He took his sunglasses off and tossed them on the floor. The tears he used to hold back so easily fell down his cheeks.

“I just want to sleep.” He quietly admitted.

“I would just bury myself and sleep until the Second Coming kills me. But, if I’m asleep, I can’t feel if you come back to Earth…” he let out a shuttering sigh.

“I keep holding on to this stupid hope that you’ll change your mind and come back to me. So, I guess I’m trapped too. I don’t know what to do without you…”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale was crying as well and pulled him in for a hug.

Crowely was so tall, he had to kneel down to allow himself to held the way he needed. He rested his head on Aziraphale’s stomach and buried his face in him.

Aziraphale felt tears soak through his shirt and clutched Crowley tightly.

“Please? I can keep tabs on you here. Muriel stops by every three days…we’d be connected.”

“I can’t stay here.” Crowley insisted and sniffled.

He pushed Aziraphale back suddenly and stood, picking his sunglasses up as he did so.

“I’ve spent the past year and a half trying to forget you. Then you came back and gave me…this.” He motioned between them.

Crowley slid the glasses on, hiding his tears, and made his voice hard.

“How dare you, honestly? If you really think about it…” he tensed up with a wave of misdirected anger.

“That’s not fair… Aziraphale started to defend himself.

“Why would I want to live in the one place that will remind me of us every second of every day?” Crowley demanded.

He walked over to his jacket, hanging by the door, and dug in one of it’s pockets.

“Now, if you won’t let me take you out, I’ll grab us dinner and scotch. We can have a picnic on the floor…”

“I want you to stop drinking so much.” Aziraphale insisted.

Crowley clutched his keys and glared at him.

“No.”

“I want you to live.” Aziraphale pressed on. He looked determined and spoke with his hands.

“I want you to have a garden and good company. All my books are yours’ to lose yourself in. I don’t want you to stop enjoying this planet we fought so hard to save…”

“I fought for you more!” Crowley headed for the door and jerked it open.

“Without you I can’t stand it here! And you’re leaving me!”

Aziraphale flinched when the door slammed, shaking the books on their shelves.

He watched Crowley stalk past the window. Past the Bentley and out of sight.

Aziraphale wiped his own tears and looked up towards Heaven. He resisted praying, knowing nothing would come of it.

It took everything in him not to chase after Crowley. But he knew when to back off and could only hope he wouldn’t stay gone until he had to leave.

Chapter Text

“Do you think God is like…watching us all the time?” Miles set his fork down and leaned on his hand.

“It didn’t sound like it.” Atticus replied. The boys were sitting at the table in their apartment’s small kitchen.

“It didn’t, did it? Thank Christ…” Miles nervously tapped his fingers on the table.

“But, like…if angels and demons are real, that probably means everything else in the Bible is true. “ He glanced up at his friend with wide eyes.

“And if God is always watching…man, I’m naked in my room all the time…”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Atticus snorted.

“I’m sure God has far more interesting things to look at all day.”

Speaking of.

Atticus turned his head and watched Bethany standing at the sink, drinking her second glass of wine and staring off out the window.

“You ok?” He asked, recognizing her worried expression.

“I think so.” Bethany forced a smile on her face and motioned to the stove with her glass.

“There is a lot left, but save some for lunches tomorrow. I’ll pack them up when I get back…”

“You’re not our mother, Beth. I’ve got it.” Atticus stood and joined her at the sink.

“It’s getting dark out, where are you going so late?”

“Just a walk.” Bethany assured him and set her glass in the sink.

“I can’t quite wrap my head around everything that’s happened, these past few months. It’s got me rethinking so many things…”

“You and me both.” Miles replied, as he moved to the pot on the stove and piled more food on his plate.

“And no one else knows but us. The guys are treating me like I’m crazy because I’m all “quiet”, but what is there to say when demons are walking around?”

Bethany glanced in the living room, to see their other four roommates laughing at something on television.

She understood Miles completely. Her other friends felt distant from her, now that she knew for certain there was an afterlife.

One that was determined to destroy everything on this planet, sooner or later.

A feral fear settled in her stomach. She wished she could talk to Aziraphale. To get some kind of comfort, but he seemed unlikely to discuss such things with mere mortals.

“Would you like some company on your walk?” Atticus pulled her from her spiral.

“I’ll stay quiet the entire time. I just hate for you to go alone…”

He was interrupted by Bethany’s phone ringing, on the counter.

‘ANTHONY J. C. 👿’ appeared on its screen.

Bethany snatched it off it’s charger and answered in a breathless voice.

“Crowley?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

She looked at her phone and saw the call wasn’t connected.

“He hung up on me.”

“Probably for the best.” Atticus’s eyes darted between the phone and her determined face, as she called the tall, handsome redhead back.

“He’s still a demon, Beth. What could he possibly be calling you about?”

“A demon that loves an angel. That alone shows he can’t be that bad.” Bethany insisted, with a frustrated groan.

Crowley let her call go to voicemail.

“Rude, but not bad.”

“You really think they’re like…in love?” Atticus inquired.

While he’d prefer Crowley’s interest be on anyone but Beth, he and Aziraphale were such an unlikely match.

“Yes. They’re desperately in love and it’s the sweetest…” Bethany was interrupted by her phone ringing again.

“Don’t hang up!” She practically shouted as she answered it.

There was still silence on Crowley’s end, but she saw the numbers ticking by, showing he was still there.

“Crowley?”

“Yeah.” Came his growling reply. She recognized how he sounded when he was embarrassed.

“Did…did you mean to call me?”

“Obviously. I’ve only got four human numbers in my phone.” Crowley scoffed.

“Who is the forth person?” Bethany asked and glanced at her boys, listening intently.

“….pizza. Aziraphale only likes a certain place and they’re delivery only.”

Bethany resisted telling him how cute this was. Something told her he didn’t want to hear it at the moment.

“Can I do something for you?” She asked instead.

“Is everything ok? Is Aziraphale with you?”

There was another long pause.

“Crow…?”

“No….and no.” Crowley finally begrudgingly admitted.

“Look, I’m outside, ok? Can you come out here or something?”

Bethany looked at Atticus, before turning to the window by the front door.

She hurried over, pulled the curtain and looked down at the street in front of their apartment.

A tall figure, all in black, was standing down there. She watched him hang up his phone and turn to clumsily sit on the curb.

“I’ll be right back.” She assured Atticus, as she hung up as well and shoved her phone in his hands.

“Well that’s nice.” Miles sighed as he watched her hurry out the door and down the stairs.

“Why does she always befriend weirdos?”

“Are we weird?” Atticus asked, halfheartedly and watched Bethany approach her friend in the near dark.

……

“You’re drunk.” Bethany immediately smelled liqueur as she sat next to Crowley, hugging her knees and trying to make out his face in the dark.

“It’s different for demons. Don’t worry…”

“Not for your mind.”

Bethany noticed a mostly empty bottle next to him and moved it to her other side.

“You sound like Aziraphale.” Crowley scoffed and reached down for the bottle.

His hand met empty sidewalk and he glared at her.

“I would hope I do, if he cares for you.” Bethany insisted.

“Where is he? Does he know you’re doing this again?”

Crowley remained silent.

“Is he ok?” Bethany asked gently, resisting patting his shoulder.

“Did something happen?”

“This was a bad idea.” Crowley shook his head and tried to stand. He failed and fell back, already too drunk to function properly.

“I’m wasted and I just…ugh, didn’t know where else to go.”

“I’m always here for you.” Bethany moved to sit in front of him.

Crowley looked up at her briefly, before roughly rubbing his face. She saw his tears shimmer in the glow of the street light.

Those eyes of his were just as reflective.

“I’m here, but I thought…well, did you and Aziraphale get in a fight, or…?”

“He’s leaving.” Crowley growled and closed himself off, bringing his knees in and hiding his face in his arms.

Bethany saw his shoulders shake and heard him start crying.

”Oh, love. Oh no…” Bethany immediately started crying as well and put her hand on his boot.

“Where the hell is he going?”

Chapter Text

“He’s being incredibly brave.” Bethany finally spoke, once Crowley finished his explanation of Aziraphale’s mission.

They were in her pink room once more. Crowley was at her vanity, after sobering up in the kitchen sink.

Bethany thought he looked a bit like a black spider, too long limbed to perch on that tiny stool.

But distance was what he wanted, so she didn’t try to persuade him to get comfortable on her bed this time.

“He’s brave but he’s an idiot.” Crowley didn’t sound like he meant this. He rubbed one of his eyes too hard, before letting his head fall back to look at the ceiling.

“What difference could he possibly make? He’s just one angel…”

“Um, didn’t the two of you stop the apocalypse?” Bethany interrupted with a scoff.

Crowley let his head drop and glared at her through his lashes. The effect was scary, but Beth didn’t care.

“What? You were just one angel and one demon, against all of Heaven and Hell.” She crossed her arms and chastised him.

“You threw a huge wrench in plans that existed before you did. Before anything did…so why couldn’t that happen again?”

Crowley shrugged and looked down to fiddle with his shirt button.

“We didn’t do much. I mean, in the grand scheme of things…we actually fucked that up, quite a bit.”

“How so?” Bethany sat on the edge of her bed and looked intrigued.

The tale of raising the anti-Christ, and averting the apocalypse, was one story Crowley hadn’t gone into drunken detail about.

“We ah, we made plans, you see? But um…well none of them played out, exactly as…”

Crowley looked off, remembering how everything had actually played out.

“I suppose it was all my plans that fell through.” He admitted.

“When Aziraphale comes up with something, it typically works. Hell, he learned how to possess people…angels aren’t supposed to be able to do that.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit…” Bethany started to comfort him.

“I lost the anti-Christ and became a nanny to some other kid for six years.” Crowley corrected her and hid his face in one hand.

“A nanny?” Bethany held in a giggle.

“Things never work out, when I try to do the right thing. Not unless Aziraphale helps me.” Crowley pushed.

Bethany took a moment to consider this statement.

“Ok, but in that case, you were doing the wrong thing….right?” Bethany got a small taste of what Aziraphale’s brain probably felt like all the time.

Twisty.

“Wrong”, according to Heaven anyway. So, it seems, when your angel decides to thwart God’s plans, things tend to work out.”

Bethany recalled all the stories Crowely had told her, about his working with Aziraphale. Bending Heaven’s and Hell’s rules, to the point of finally snapping.

Just to be together as much as possible.

“He’s doing this for you. He’s protecting you.” She assured him.

“Otherwise, what’s your fate? He’d just lose you?”

Crowley shook his head and sounded so exhausted.

“That’s worse. Can’t you see how that makes it all worse?” He demanded.

“If he’d just give me a year. A year of unfettered freedom, with him by my side…I’d die happy and he could keep living.” Crowley didn’t bother wiping the tear falling down his cheek.

“I’m tired of existing and he is the only thing I’ve ever fully wanted for myself. A year…and then Heaven would keep him safe and give him an eternity to forget me.”

Bethany was saddened by this statement, but it was under a pile of anger.

“And you’d let Earth just burn up, is that what you’re saying? Me and everyone I care about…”

Crowley leaned forward and Bethany could see deep sorrow and sincerity, even in his reptilian eyes.

“I gave up my life to prevent that.” He spoke solemnly.

“Sheila was just faster than me, but that Holy water would have…”

“I think you need to trust him.” Beth interrupted and made her voice a bit stern.

“He needs encouragement and to know you’re ok, down here. Otherwise, he really will be going up there all alone and worried for you…”

Crowley scowled and stood up to leave, but Bethany hurried to stand in front of the door.

“He’s sacrificing everything, while you guilt trip him by being a selfish baby!”

Crowley opened his mouth to argue. To threaten this helpless thing in front of him.

How dare she call him a baby? How dare a human speak on behalf of an angel? Like she could even begin to understand…

“You need to imagine how he’d react to you dying, if he fails!” Bethany snapped.

“If you love him, you’d let him fight for you! For all of us! And you’d make it as easy on him as possible, by taking care of yourself!”

Chapter Text

“They’re like cartoon characters.” Crowley rolled his eyes and stepped over the pile of boys on the floor.

Atticus, Miles, and two of their roommates, had been pressing their ears against Beth’s door, in an attempt to listen to the conversation therein.

They were so focused that, when Crowley yanked the door open suddenly, they all fell on top of one another, cursing as they went.

Bethany daintily hopped over them as well, and followed Crowley to leave.

“Miles, is it alright if we borrow your car? I’m taking Crowley home, after a quick stop.”

Crowley didn’t hear her say this, since he’d already left the apartment.

They watched his head disappear through the window, as he descended the stairs, leaving the door wide open.

“What the fuck is going on with his eyes? Bethany, who…what the f…fuck?”

One of the clueless boys was actually shaking, at the sight of the obvious not human thing that passed them.

“Whatever he actually is, he’s rude.” Miles complained, as he stood and dusted himself off.

“Just take the damn car. Drive it all the way to Hell, for all I care…”

“Thank you! I promise we’re staying close by!” Beth called and snatched his keys from their place next to the door.

“But it only has two seats!” Atticus was trying to follow her.

“It’s not the safest, but you could sit in my lap…”

Bethany held up her hand to stop him.

“I’ll be fine, Attie. Please clean up dinner and I’ll be right back.”

With that, Bethany hurried after the demon, to only God knew where.

“I didn’t know she was in to older…guys?” The boy joked nervously from the floor.

“It’s not a “guy”!” Atticus snapped.

“And it has a boyfriend!”

“That was the Bathroom Man! He flew out the fucking window!” The scared boy pointed at the door, as that memory mysteriously came back to him.

“That’s nonsense. Human shaped things can’t fly.” Atticus barely lied as he slumped to his room.

…….

“Why ash?” Bethany opened a box of cereal and showed Crowley what it held.

“Would you have preferred asbestos?” Crowley waved the box away and stalked down the grocery aisle.

“Yeah, good point. Why can’t you just put it all back to normal?” Bethany questioned him as she followed along.

“If you can ruin it all, surely you have the power to fix it?”

It was dark here, save for the lights of their cell phones. People had given up on these shops full of pestilence and rot, though the farms were healing.

“I have the power, but that’s too big of a Miracle.” Crowley explained, after reaching the shelves they were looking for.

“Hell will come calling, any day now. I need to keep a low profile and appear as weak as possible.”

“Or what?” Bethany whispered and watched him shift through a row of slim, fancy boxes.

“Or they’ll keep paying attention and I just want to be left alone. I’ll likely need that, if you want me to survive.” Crowley explained, far too casually.

“Now, I never eat these.” He let out a frustrated sigh and motioned to the boxes of chocolate on the shelf.

“I can Miracle one of them back to normal, so please pick out something expensive and decadent.”

“Does he have any allergies?” Bethany grinned and read the back of a heart shaped box.

“Angels don’t have allergies…unless you count Hellfire.” Crowley shrugged.

“I know he hates coconut. And whatever that pink stuff is in the cheap ones…”

……

“What’s his favorite color?” Bethany whispered, as Crowley picked the lock of a nearby flower shop.

“He’s an angel.” Crowley scoffed, right as the lock clicked.

He opened the door and stepped inside, cautiously looking for any sign of a security system.

“Things like us don’t have favorite colors. Or a favorite dinosaur. Humans just don’t know when to grow up…”

“I bet his favorite color is yellow.” Bethany interrupted him and stopped at large vase full of big, luscious and happy sunflowers.

She grinned up at Crowley’s yellow glare and grabbed a few sheets of the wax paper that sat next to the cash register.

“We should throw in some tiny white ones as well, to make a proper bouquet.” She insisted.

The plants and flowers were all color coded, so Crowley didn’t hesitate to pick around the angel’s breath blooms.

“Can you tie a bow?” He demanded, once he noticed the wall of various ribbons behind the check out counter.

“Yes. I’ll make sure it’s nice and pretty and giant, just like your love for….”

“Shut it.” Crowley snapped and slammed enough money on the counter to buy out the store’s entire inventory.

…….

“So, this ‘Second Coming’, what does that consist of, exactly?” Bethany inquired as she and Crowley strolled down the sidewalk, purchases in hand.

Crowley shifted the huge, sweetly wrapped sunflowers in his arms and gave her a cautious look.

“I’m not sure you want to know.” He admitted.

“Nothing good. Especially for your lot…”

“My lot?” Bethany snipped. She stopped walking and held the box of chocolates over a rain puddle.

“Hey! Don’t drop them! They’re the only decent ones we could find!” Crowley couldn’t stop her without squashing the bouquet.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Who’s side are you on?” Bethany demanded, shaking the box threateningly over the water.

“My own!” Crowley replied with zero hesitation.

“And Aziraphale’s….” He softly added, and caught Bethany’s angry look.

“What about me?” Bethany asked and clutched the chocolates tightly to her chest.

“And all the humans? What about us?”

Crowley’s shoulders slumped.

“Obviously, I’d save you if I could, but Heaven can’t be stopped…”

“I’ll see about that.” Bethany stuck her nose up and stomped off towards Mile’s car.

“Excuse me?” Crowley laughed humorlessly and hurried after her.

“Look, I can try to take you and your boys to Alpha Centuri with me. But you’re all so fond of oxygen…”

“If Aziraphale thinks we can stop Heaven, then I do too!” Bethany spun to face him and looked determined.

“He’s going to tell me what he needs of us down here. So he’s not doing it all on his own. We’ll stand up to them and fight!”

“Humans will stand up to Heaven?” Crowley scoffed as he delicately laid the flowers on the car’s roof.

“Even if you managed to get half of your species to even believe in the Second Coming, what could any of you possibly do?”

“Humans stopped the apocalypse, yeah?” Bethany reminded him.

“We succeeded, where you failed. A little boy stopped it!”

“The anti-Christ!” Crowley threw his hands up in exasperation.

“That was a fluke! A once in a life time mercy, from an all powerful being. You are just a girl!”

“You said other humans helped. Children…” Bethany pushed.

“You said a little human girl stabbed War in the gut with a flaming sword!”

“W…well, yeah…but…” Crowley stammered and couldn’t argue.

“I’m talking to Aziraphale.” Bethany blunted stated and climbed in the driver’s seat.

“I’ll let you apologize first, though!”

Chapter Text

“He’ll want a television.” Aziraphale was speaking out loud to himself.

“One of the great big flat ones. Perhaps a computer as well. Oh, what’s the difference? They look exactly the same…”

He glanced at his copy of Crowley’s car keys, hanging by the door, and considered leaving, to acquire these modern luxuries his bookshop lacked.

It felt a bit like furnishing a cage for a pet hamster. Bits and pieces to keep his companion distracted and enriched, within his enclosure.

Anything to persuade his stubborn lover to stay here, so he could keep an eye on him.

Aziraphale wrung his hands and paced the floor, unable to decide if he should wait to see if Crowely would return, or to leave and see if any electronic shops were open.

He had such little time left here…

Aziraphale knew Crowley usually came to his senses, after these runaway outbursts.

He’d pop back up, with a guilty heart that he tried passing off as annoyance, and go along with whatever Aziraphale asked of him.

Crowley was loyal and kind, but also hurt beyond what Aziraphale could ever fully understand. So, he never judged the demon for his flight reaction to painful situations.

Not too harshly, anyway.

How could anyone judge him, really? After everything he’d gone through?

But this time was different. This was dire and Aziraphale was afraid he’d break down if he had to go back to Heaven, just to watch Crowley, all alone and destroying himself.

That was the one thing that could distract him from his work. The one thing to hinder any progress he could make, in stopping the Second Coming.

The demon had so much power over him and he didn’t understand that. A dangerous combination.

“I’d even let him paint it all black.” Aziraphale muttered to himself and glanced around at the bookshop’s sunny walls.

His panicked musings were interrupted by the ding of the bell above his shop door.

…….

“Crowley?”

The figure coming towards him certainly had Crowley’s long legs, but the rest of them was completely hidden behind a peace offering.

“Can you take these, please?” Crowley’s grouchy voice was muffled around the sunflowers he was clutching.

Their wax paper crinkled, as he awkwardly shifted them in his arms, and held out a large box of truffles.

Aziraphale could only stare at the sight before him. Transitioning from dread, to being overcome with cuteness, was difficult.

“Uh, hello?” Crowley managed to shove a flower aside with his head, to look for Aziraphale.

The effect made it seem as if his face were a part of the bouquet. Aziraphale let out a laugh, the tension leaving his body along with it.

“Goddammit.” Crowley hid behind the sunflowers once more and stomped off to put them in water.

“Oh, dearest…” Aziraphale was still laughing softly and hurried to stop him.

“I’m sorry I ruined…whatever this is!”

“It’s obviously an apology!” Crowley whipped around again, accidentally dropping the chocolates as he did so.

Aziraphale fumbled to catch them and set them in his chair.

“Yes, obviously. Quite right…” he smoothed his vest and readied himself for the demon’s speech.

“Bethany said…ugh, the flowers are a given, but she said…anyway, chocolates and flowers…”

“Two of my favorite things.” Aziraphale assured him and moved to take the flowers.

He smiled and looked into Crowley’s nervous eyes.

“They’re even my favorite color.”

Crowley shoved the the bouquet into his arms, with a growl, and watched Aziraphale lay it next to the chocolates. He stiffened up when the angel faced him once more, with no barriers between them now.

“What, exactly, are you apologizing for?”

Crowley bit the inside of of his cheek and attempted to look annoyed. His sad eyes gave him away though.

“Duh…I ran out. Yelled at you and…” he couldn’t look him in the eye, so he spoke at the wall over Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“I drank myself stupid for a year. I didn’t trust you, even after…everything.”

Aziraphale nodded along, in sympathetic agreement. Crowley just went on listing his sins against him.

“I tried to make you feel guilty for doing the right thing. For just being who you’ve always been…good. Protective…”

He watched Aziraphale step closer to him, from the corner of his eye, and out came the self deprecation.

“I’m a coward. I’m a selfish man baby who can’t see past his own…why you have anything to do with me, I’ll never understand.”

He took a deep breath and glanced up at the ceiling, to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks.

“I couldn’t let myself believe that you love me, so…or that anyone…I thought…”

“I’ll stop you there.” Aziraphale was tearing up as well and pulled Crowley into a hug.

Crowley allowed himself to be held but didn’t return his embrace. He was too busy trying not to cry.

“I don’t know what a “man baby” is, but you’re no such thing…” Aziraphale sniffled in his ear.

“Christ.” It was Crowley’s turn to laugh in relief and hug him back.

“No, I am. Trust me…but it stops now. I promise I’ll stop.”

He kissed the top of Aziraphale’s head and just held him for a long moment, not wanting to let him go.

Imagining doing so forced out words he never thought he’d speak.

“I was actually thinking, on the drive up here…that I’d go with you….this time.”

Aziraphale put his hand on his chest, to gently push him back and look up at him.

“To Heaven, I mean.”

“Oh, Crowley…that’s…”

“What? No, it’s fine, I’ll go…I’ll be a stupid angel again and I’ll help you.” Crowley took Aziraphale’s face in his hands.

“I’m sorry I abandoned you to them. I’m sorry…but I’ll go. We’ll be together and…give them hell up there.”

He sounded determined, but that faded when he saw Aziraphale’s expression.

“You’d hate it.” Aziraphale whispered.

“I hate it.”

“We’d hate it together…”

“And, I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” Aziraphale held Crowley’s hand tight against his cheek.

“But…”

“But they’ll know I came to Earth to save you. They’ll know I left…and…and I’m quite sure now that the Metatron’s offer wasn’t true.”

Aziraphale gave an angry glance up at Heaven.

“They’d have separated us, regardless. I’m not even allowed to speak with Muriel, so…

“I’ll hide in your pocket then.” Crowley resigned himself to sad jokes.

His shoulders slumped and he hugged Aziraphale once more, setting his chin atop his head.

“I’ll make myself tiny and you can sneak me Upstairs. I’ll live in your desk and…be your shoulder demon.”

“My, but you really are the cutest thing, aren’t you?” Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile sadly at this silly scenario.

Crowley closed his eyes and held him tighter.

“I’ll admit it if you stay.” He whispered.

Aziraphale tensed up in his arms, ready to argue.

“Sorry! That was a joke! I’ll stop asking! I’ll stop!” Crowley reassured him and lifted Aziraphale’s chin.

“You can never say I let you go without a fight, though, right?”

“And you can’t say I left you easily.” Aziraphale agreed.

“I’m sorry I ever believed such a thing.” Crowley kissed him at that, ready to distract them both from their mutual sadness.

“How much longer have you got down here?”

“Less than eighteen hours.”

Crowley groaned before kissing him harder.

“Can I feed you chocolate in bed, for a few of those hours? We just won’t think for a while…”

“Will you stay here, when I go?” Aziraphale asked, his expression desperately hopeful.

Crowley just nodded, no sarcasm or complaining.

“Yes,I’ll stay in the bookshop. And I’ll take care of myself while you try and save everything.”

He sighed and nuzzled his face in Aziraphale’s nape.

“We’ll be connected, whatever that ends up looking like.”

“Thank you.” Aziraphale closed his eyes and leaned in as Crowley started kissing his neck.

“If you’re safe, I think I can make it through anything…”

His stifled a moan when Crowley gently raked his teeth over a sensitive part of his throat.

His cheeks flushed and the distraction, Crowley was hoping to start, worked.

“Do you want me to carry you up to…bed?” Aziraphale was interrupted by a door opening and a ding, behind Crowley’s back.

Looking beyond annoyed, he glanced around him, at the bookshop entrance.

“Who in the bloody h…Bethany?!”

Aziraphale quickly shoved Crowley away.

Bethany was standing in the doorway, covering her eyes with one hand and waving at him with the other.

“Sorry! Crowley told me to wait outside, but he didn’t say how long!” She sounded embarrassed.

“This isn’t what it looks like!” Aziraphale assured her.

He’d covered his own chest with his hands, as if he’d been caught topless…even though he was wearing four layers of clothes.

“Crowley was just…we were just…hugging? A friendly hug!”

“She knows about us, dummy. She recommended chocolate, remember?” Crowley rolled his eyes and gave Bethany an annoyed look.

“I was hoping you’d give up and go home.” He coldly admitted.

Bethany glared in return and Aziraphale looked baffled, as he looked back and forth between them.

“Give up on what?”

Chapter Text

“Oh wow, this is amazing.” Bethany had just taken a sip of the hot tea Aziraphale served her.

“It’s so…complicated? Is that the word?”

Aziraphale nodded as he sat across from her, at his small breakfast table, and drank from his own tea cup.

“‘Busy’, is how I’ve described it in the past. It’s brewed from an aged brick of Pujara, from 1989, I believe.”

“Thirty-four year old tea?” Bethany crinkled her nose at the thought, but happily took another drink.

“It was perfectly sealed. I was saving it for a special occasion.” Aziraphale frowned and set his cup down with a clink.

“I saved the nicest things for “special occasions”…I should have simply enjoyed them with the time I knew I had.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, as he refilled Beth’s cup from his beautiful old kettle.

“It’s not like you’re dead.” Bethany spoke gently, but firmly.

“None of us are…”

“Yet.” Aziraphale set the kettle down too hard and gave her a serious look. He clearly didn’t plan on sugar coating the facts of their discussion.

“But before we are, have a truffle.” He insisted and motioned to the box between them, with a real smile this time.

“I like to take a small bite and allow it to melt in my mouth, after a sip of tea…”

“Excuse me for interrupting this bougie fest, but did you have something to say?” Crowley finally spoke up.

They glanced over to see him, clutching the edge of the sink and staring out the window into the darkness.

Anyone looking in would have been met with the frightening sight of his angry expression.

“You’re already interrupting our last night together, so you maybe you could both skip the formalities?”

Aziraphale silently pat the table and gave Bethany a comforting look.

“Don’t mind that silly demon.” The move said.

“No, he’s right.” Beth took a deep breath and pushed her tea away.

“Very well.” Aziraphale placed his hands on the table and gave her his full attention.

“What questions do you have for me? I’ll do my best to be completely honest, because of what you did for Crowley.”

He made eye contact with Crowley and considered his next words carefully, before turning back to Beth.

“But if you’ve come to me to find hope…it may be best if we don’t speak.”

Bethany glanced between the two man shaped things and felt a flash of justified anger.

“Do you think of humans as less than you?” She demanded.

Aziraphale’s mouth fell open in offended disbelief.

“Of course not!” He insisted.

“You’re wonderful beings! For the most part anyway. You’re so clever and come up with most spectacular ideas to make life worth living!”

Bethany could tell the angel was speaking with love and honesty, but that only made her angrier.

“Then why haven’t you asked us for help? Why haven’t you let us try to save ourselves?”

……

“Evangeline is a powerful thing. She’s an angel, but she’s in a different league than most.”

“Is she stronger than you? Aren’t you “The Angel”?”

“That’s difficult to say, really. The Watchers existed before the other hierarchies. They were a group, before the rest of us were given labels and duties.”

Aziraphale didn’t have trouble remembering any of this, like it was yesterday.

“God was particularly angry, when the Watchers fell. Everything happened quickly, after that…all the terribleness.”

He glanced at Crowley again. The demon was remembering too, and absorbing Aziraphale’s words. Shifting through them to find hope, just as much as Beth.

“Evangeline, or Eva, as she permitted me to call her, stayed on Heaven’s side, but refused to fight. She’s a valuable ally, if we had a plan…”

“If she’s even on our side.” Crowley had been annoyed by these two blondes leaving him out of their big talk, but he easily made himself a part of it.

“You don’t know anything about anything! She could be waiting at the top of that elevator, with the Metatron himself, ready to smite you!”

“I’m sure that would have happened by now, had she tattled.” Aziraphale argued back.

“Allies are good…” Bethany was staring off, trying to imagine this ‘before everything’ of angels and hierarchies.

“Hey, so…what’s going to happen, exactly? I mean, what are we up against?”

Aziraphale took a deep breath and kept his word about honest answers.

“I can safely assume you’ve heard of the Rapture, yes?” He inquired.

“Kind of.” Bethany admitted.

“I didn’t grow up religious. In fact, I learned more about the Bible as a witch than I’ve ever bothered to learn, prior.”

She shrugged.

“I thought it was all superstitions and fear mongering, to control the masses and justify war for profit.”

“Shame. That means a you’ll miss out on the massive soul Hoover.” Crowley joked, humorlessly.

S…soul Hoover?” Beth asked.

“The first step is to bring all the righteous souls home. Safe and sound from God’s wrath.” Aziraphale quoted the plans he was supposed to set into motion.

“They’ll keep their mortal bodies, only for dramatic effect really. People will disappear all over the globe, at the snap of…”

He looked down at his own hand and sighed heavily.

“Hopefully, more sinners drive cars, than devote. And pilot airplanes…”

“I doubt enough of them will be raptured to even be news worthy.” Crowley scoffed.

“Hell is over run with souls as it is. Heaven hasn’t been doing it’s job “saving” anyone the last few thousand years.”

“I did try.” Aziraphale softly argued.

“It will be the glorification of some. The damnation of most…” Crowley reasonably predicted.

“What’s after the Hoovering?” Bethany demanded.

“Ah…um…they want to animate a bunch of human corpses.” Aziraphale grimaced.

“A bit too Halloween, but my colleagues insist nothing is scarier than the dead walking the Earth.”

Bethany’s eyes opened wide.

“Like…my grandma is coming back as a zombie?”

“Was she righteous?” Aziraphale inquired.

“How would I know? Um…she drank a lot of whiskey and cursed like a sailor.” Bethany admitted.

“Hm. My kind of zombie.” Crowley tried to joke lightly. No one smiled.

“Christ will arrive and lead all those left in a series of tests. One last chance at “salvation”, but thorough politics and…well, we know how humans polarize such things.”

Aziraphale sighed.

“They’ll argue so much and just waste Jesus’ time.”

“After that, Hell will be allowed to take over Earth for a thousand years”. Crowley added.

“They’ll have their fun, with the humans that are left. Once that’s done, I assume God will finally be merciful and destroy the damned and the demons alike.” He shrugged too casually.

“And that’ll be it. Angels and demons fighting one another to the death, while Earth smolders at their feet.”

Bethany looked terrified at his words. Aziraphale saw her trembling and regretted telling her any of this.

“But why? Why? What’s the point of all that?” She whispered.

Aziraphale reached across the table, took her hand in both of his, and gave her a comforting smile.

“I don’t know.” He answered, for once not giving God’s mysterious ways a positive spin.

“Nonsense reasons, I assume. But I won’t stop trying to find out why. And I won’t stop until I put it all to an end…unless…”

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.” Bethany held his hands in return and looked desperate.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt! It’s not fair!”

“No…” Crowley started to agree.

“There have to be others like you guys! Right? Surely you can’t all agree this has to happen?”

Crowley and Aziraphale shared a look.

“The only ones we know of are as far away as possible. And I can’t blame them.” Aziraphale replied.

“Gabriel and Beezlebub.” Crowley growled.

“The last supreme Archangel and a Prince of Hell?” Bethany looked hopeful.

“They’re big shots! Surely they can help?”

“How do you…?” Aziraphale was surprised she even knew their names.

“Like I said, Sheila taught me a lot. Apparently she was Beezlbub’s biggest fan.”

“Not if she knew the truth.” Crowley snorted.

“The famous Lord of the Flies is living their best life with their pompous, angel dearest.” He couldn’t keep the envy out of his voice.

“They made it out and left us all at God’s limited mercy.”

Chapter Text

“Not that I mind, but I don’t understand why you asked me, rather than Crowley.”

Aziraphale was on the sidewalk, in front of his shop. He’d taken his jacket off and was rolling up his sleeves, while Bethany opened the hood of Mile’s old, orange car.

“He knows far more about these things than me, and that’s not saying much.”

“I didn’t want to bother him. He’s so down…” Beth trailed off, as she sat behind the wheel and started the car.

“But if you can do small “miracles”, or whatever, maybe you could just find what’s making that sound and fix it.”

“Which sound? The whole thing sounds like someone is shaking a can full of nails!” Aziraphale spoke loudly, over the less than healthy engine noises.

He was embarrassed, for thinking he’d actually be expected to get his hands dirty. He stood there awkwardly, with his impeccable hands on his hips.

“Let’s just listen!” Bethany stood next to him and aimed her ear towards the car. They both focused on pinpointing the worst of the noise.

“There, I think! Under the big metal part!” Aziraphale stepped closer and summoned a tiny bit of Heaven’s power.

“Which big metal…part?” Bethany spoke normally, once his miracle made the car sound less like a fork in a garbage disposal.

“There you are! Good as…well, not new, but…” Aziraphale shrugged as Beth turned off the car and hurried to stand in front of him.

“Thank you! You’re so sweet!” She spoke a bit too loudly and blocked him, as he attempted to walk back to his book shop.

“Not at all. It’s the least…” Aziraphale tried to step around her, but she blocked him again.

“H…hey, since we’re alone for a moment…um…”

Bethany tucked her hair behind her ear and looked over her shoulder, to see if Crowley was watching out the window.

He wasn’t there. She turned back to Azirphale and saw his eyes were narrowed in worried suspicion.

“What?” He quickly had a realization.

“You didn’t need help with the car, did you?”

“Two birds one stone!” Bethany anxiously twisted her hair and spoke too fast.

“Miles always puts off fixing this damn thing! And…and I wanted to ask you about…Beezlebub.”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms.

“Yet another subject Crowley would know more about.”

“Crowley isn’t going to like what I’m thinking about…doing.” Bethany spoke softly and stepped closer to him.

“But you…you get it. You’re ready to fight like we’ll die anyway, if we don’t.”

Aziraphale uncrossed his arms and stood up straighter.

“Why do you want to know about them?” He was ready to agree to whatever she had planned, without even knowing what it was.

“Well, it’s a long shot, but…technically….” Bethany stepped even closer and whispered, so Aziraphale had to get his face near her’s.

“…I’m a witch.”

…..

“Did she…leave?” Crowley’s voice became flustered, as he hopped up from his chair, when he heard the door ding.

Aziraphale walked in and appeared to be deep in thought, as he hung his jacket up.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which was still far more of his skin than Crowley was used to seeing. He felt like a Victorian era man, catching sight of a bare ankle.

“Yes, it was just a little car trouble. She said she’d come by when I leave. So you’re not alone right after.” Aziraphale motioned for Crowley to follow him.

“What a good friend you’ve made for yourself.” He went on.

“She’s a smart girl. Brave too.”

“Uh huh.” Crowley’s alarm bells were going off.

“What did you talk about? You don’t know anything about cars.”

“I’ve read a thing or two about them. Frankly, I’m a bit insulted…”

“What model was it?” Crowley flatly asked.

Aziraphale didn’t miss a beat.

“A Volkswagen Beetle. One as old as us, you’d imagine, had you listened to that engine.”

Crowley looked surprised, but not convinced he wasn’t being led astray. Bethany was being sneaky and involving his angel in it.

“Now, come sit with me and let me kiss you for a while, yes?” Aziraphale walked around the corner, but leaned back to make eye contact with Crowley.

His plan worked and all suspicion fled Crowley’s brain. For now, anyway.

…….

“We wasted so much time.” Aziraphale whispered. He was on top of Crowley, on the largest couch in the shop.

“All those centuries and we could have had this. I’d give anything to start over, knowing what we know now.”

He kissed Crowley’s chest, through his shirt, and inhaled all the scents that were home to him. Clove, smoke, slight sulfur and warm skin.

The heat from Crowley’s body intensified all these smells and Aziraphale felt intoxicated by them.

Crowley chuckled lowly and exposed more of his neck, as Aziraphale kissed his way up to it.

“Can you imagine if I’d ever asked you for anything remotely like this, before Armageddon?”

“You may have been surprised.” Aziraphale admitted in his ear. He ran his hand in Crowely’s shirt, from his flat stomach and up to his ribs.

“Yeah right.” Crowley couldn’t help but laugh, even as he arched up against Aziraphale’s hot palm.

“If I’d even suggested that we hug, you’d have turned inside out.”

“You never seemed like much of a hugger.” Aziraphale muttered. He got close and kissed his forehead.

Crowley closed his eyes and sighed. He’d be content with forehead kisses and whispers, forever.

“I’m a demon. I wasn’t allowed to be a hugger. And even if I was, you’d have discorporated at the notion…”

Aziraphale paused, just short of kissing his lips, and gave him a sad look.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Crowley’s smile fell and he was genuinely confused.

“For everything I ever said about us, being on opposite sides. For how I treated you as less than me. Less worthy…just because you’re a demon.”

Aziraphale hadn’t had the time to truly appreciate how unkind his words had been, for over six thousand years.

Guilt hit him and he started to lift himself off Crowley, with a more thorough and long winded apology on his lips.

“I must have hurt your feelings, so many times…”

Crowley grabbed him and kept him close, silencing his protests with a hard kiss. That’s all it took for Aziraphale to settle down and listen to him.

“Your words never matched your actions.” Crowley reassured him.

“You’d quote what you were taught to quote, and then you treated me as a friend. You took care of me, for thousands of years, despite what was expected of you.”

“We took care of each other.” Aziraphale corrected him. He delicately traced the outline of Crowley’s lips with his fingers, before kissing him back.

“I love you, so. And if we’d started this any sooner, everything would be dead already.”

“I love you too, but what do you mean?” Crowley sat up on his elbows and tilted his head.

“If you’d kissed me sooner, even if it took me a few hundred years to come to terms with it, I…I would have run away with you anywhere.” Aziraphale admitted.

“The moment the Anti-Christ touched Earth, we’d have flown off to Alpha Centauri.” Aziraphale got up and sat back on the couch.

“We’d have died anyway, but I wouldn’t have known that at the time. You were so scared and I would have just followed you.”

“Well, thank Someone you like taking things slow.” Crowley didn’t like this conversation anymore, despite Aziraphale describing his devotion to him.

He pushed his angel back and gave him a look that immediately changed the subject.

Crowley kept ending up in Aziraphale’s lap. He didn’t stay there for long, typically, but it was the perfect position for seduction.

“I’m so glad you’re so much faster now. But you’ve barely had a taste of being in love with a demon.”

“How do you mean?” Aziraphale asked. He gripped Crowley’s thighs and leaned back to give him easier access to his shirt buttons.

“Well, while everything we’ve done is wonderful and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, we’ve kind of just been fucking like humans.” Crowley grinned at him.

“Making love.” Aziraphale corrected him and looked a bit hurt.

“And I want to spend the rest of my life doing that with you.” Crowley assured him, still smiling as he undid the last button.

“But you’re leaving soon, so…let me give you something to really remember me by.”

Chapter Text

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Aziraphale was refusing to budge on his answer to Crowley’s insistent request.

He downed a third serving of wine, before handing the empty glass to the demon in his lap.

Crowley stuck out his lower lip and pretended to sadly place the glass on the table next to them. He poured the last of the bottle for him, without being asked.

His pouting face didn’t help him get his way. It only made him cuter, which solidified Aziraphale’s decision.

“Maybe you’ll change your mind, if you relax a bit more?” Crowley pushed and offered him the wine.

“No, best not. My head is already swimming.” Aziraphale gently pushed the glass away.

“Oh, come on, Angeeelll!” Crowley somehow made his body even slinkier than usual, and draped himself over Aziraphale.

He drank the wine for him and casually tossed the glass over his shoulder. Aziraphale just looked annoyed when it shattered across the room.

“You’ll be using a broom on that. No miracles.”

“Please understand that you can’t hurt me. I’m a demon, remember?” Crowley stuck to the subject at hand.

He sat up straight to remove his angel’s undone bow tie and open his collar more.

“I just want you to fuck me with abandon. That’s all…”

He made sure to lean close and speak directly in Aziraphale’s ear, as he firmly pressed himself down on his lap.

Aziraphale flushed beet red and crossed his arms, putting a barricade between himself and Crowley rubbing all over him.

“No. I’m stronger than you realize….” He looked away as Crowely took off his own shirt.

“If I lost control, I’d break you like a twig. Then what?”

“You won’t break me.” Crowley actually got more turned on at his words and sat up on his knees, straddling Aziraphale and looking down at him.

“But if you wanted to, I’d say thank you.” He grinned and ran hand through his soft hair.

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

He broke out in goosebumps when Crowley grabbed a fistful of curls and tugged lightly, before letting go.

“No one dirty talks in any of these books of yours? I find that hard to believe.”

“I skip those parts. It was like reading step by step instructions for a cake I’d never eat, right in the middle of the story.” Aziraphale explained.

“Romance novels have more to offer than smut.”

“Aw, but that’s the fun bit.” Crowley snickered.

Aziraphale had to catch his breath, as he watched his demon lean over to the side table next to the couch, to grab his cigarette box.

He knew this was for the sake of looking cool, but dammit it was working.

“Demons don’t have to stop, until we want to, ya know? I’m sure angels are the same way.” Crowley went on. He stuck the cigarette between his lips and ignited Azirphale’s lighter.

After tossing the box and lighter on the cushion next to them, he blew smoke up to the ceiling, before pouting at down Aziraphale once more.

“You could be a proper little hedonist and do whatever you want to me. For as long as you want. As hard as you want. And I’ll love it…”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale was taken aback by all this sudden vulgarity, but he couldn’t hide the effect it had on him.

Especially with Crowley shirtless, hovering over him in tight black jeans and shameless temptation in his piercing eyes.

He hadn’t actually looked demonic to Aziraphale in years, but he certainly did now.

“I’m not a hedonist.”

Crowley threw his head back and laughed.

“Uh huh, sure, ok…pfffft!”

“I’m not!” Aziraphale argued over his laughter.

“Fine, you don’t have to call yourself anything you don’t want to.” Crowley was still chuckling, as he took Aziraphale’s hand and pressed it against his own chest.

“But I’ve always wanted to get fucked by a hedonistic angel. And you check so many boxes…”

“You’re being very rude.” Aziraphale wasn’t mad, exactly, but he was annoyed at how easily Crowley was getting under his skin.

But this didn’t stop him from caressing him, until his hand ended up at his hip and roughly grabbed him there.

Crowley jumped at this and his act faltered for a moment. Aziraphale noticed and managed to hide his smile.

The silly demon always gave himself away, when he was actually nervous.

This relaxed Aziraphale enough to lean forward and kissed the V above Crowely’s pants. Crowely’s hand immediately fell to his hair and he pushed his hips forward.

Aziraphale kissed along the hem of his jeans and took a moment to consider what was being offered to him.

It was exactly what he craved. To lose himself completely, in mutual pleasure , with Crowley’s enthusiastic and begging consent.

For hours. They didn’t have to stop? Was that what Crowley meant about how they were limiting themselves, to human standards?

Gluttony was a sin Aziraphale had barely fought against in centuries. He’d gotten to the point that he just didn’t care anymore.

He’d accepted that he was someone who enjoyed physical pleasure, and only the best of everything.

What was so bad about that?

And one couldn’t only be gluttonous over food.

His hands were making their way up the back Crowley’s thighs. One stayed put, while the other ended up on his lower back and pulled him closer.

Crowley almost dropped his cigarette, when he felt Aziraphale’s mouth on his crotch. His excitement over this was evident through his tight pants.

“Good boy. See? Just do whatever you want…”

Aziraphale never made a fool of himself again, like he did over that ox. The pleasures he allowed himself now were simpler.

But his preference for a life that was excessive and indulgent…it all felt like it had been leading up to this.

“Maybe I am a hedonist.” He pondered.

These thoughts caused him to bite Crowely’s hip, suddenly and mindlessly.

“Ouch!” Crowley yelped in surprise. Aziraphale was so ashamed, that he missed his big smile, even as he hissed air through his teeth.

“Goddamn, Angel! Use your words…”

“I’m SO sorry! I…I think my lines got crossed! Are you ok?”” Aziraphale examined the bite mark he’d left and covered his mouth in horror.

“Oh no!” He exclaimed, behind his hands.

“Are you going to eat me, Aziraphale?”

Crowley teased him with a purr and shoved him back against the couch, making himself comfortable in his lap once more.

He felt how hard his seat was now and let out a growl of impatience, as he wrapped himself around Aziraphale again.

“It’s not funny. I told you I’d hurt…you.” Aziraphale’s voice was low and his hands were on him, though he stayed mortified with himself.

Crowley kissed him deeply, his tongue skirting over those perfect teeth that he wanted desperately to test out more.

“I like it, dummy. Don’t be sorry.” He whispered and started to slowly grind him hips in a circle on Aziraphale’s lap.

Aziraphale let out one more resistant whimper and clutched Crowley to himself.

“Are you sure? We could just…”

“We’ll make love later.” Crowely promised.

“If you can manage to slow DOWN!” His joke was cut short by Aziraphale pulling him up on his knees again.

He was kissing his stomach once more and trying his best to pull Crowely’s pants down, without unbuttoning them.

Crowley managed to undo his pants with one hand, and extinguished his cigarette on his tongue, with his other.

His satisfied grin melted to an expression of shocked pleasure. He was in Aziraphale’s mouth faster than he expected.

“Don’t bite…don’t…” he muttered under his breath, suddenly worried he actually could push Aziraphale too much.

Being chewed was only hot, if it was a good distance away from his crotch.

He needn’t have worried. Aziraphale only did what he’d learned in the lift they’d broken, but performed with even more gusto.

Crowley tried his best not to make any less than cool sounds, but that was impossible.

“Angel…ngk!” He made an even sillier sound, when Aziraphale grabbed his hips and yanked him back down.

They looked at one another, breathing hard and on the brink of tearing each other apart, when Aziraphale tried something.

He kissed Crowley, with the mindset of being an angel, rather than human affection. He put his all into it.

Crowley’s lips suddenly felt like they were on fire, but he was being engulfed in love, rather than pain.

It spread from where their lips met and traveled through him, as if love had been injected into his veins.

It was liquid sunlight and contentment. Security and joy and everything that beings, granted a soul, craved. Times a million.

Dangerous and excessive. Crowley was terrified for it to stop.

It took Aziraphale a long time to stop, and when he finally did, Crowely started crying and shoved him.

“W…what the fuck, Angel? What…why would you do that?” He demanded.

He collapsed in Aziraphale’s arms and tried his best to melt into him.

“Was it bad? I…I thought it felt wonderful.” Aziraphale was also overwhelmed but confused by Crowley’s tears.

Sharing that part of himself was amazing, but he was used to those feelings. He couldn’t remember a time without them.

…..

Crowley felt like a fool for not considering the other side of things. He knew he could show Aziraphale the time of his life, specifically because he was a demon.

Debauchery was his forte. Temptation and giving into pleasure was second nature.

But, being the type of angel he was, Aziraphale’s equal qualities were just pure love. At his barest parts.

Crowley wished he’d never felt it, because now he was expected to live without it.

How he could be expected to do that?

“I’m sorry…” Aziraphale was starting to stand now, picking Crowley up as he did so.

“Let’s st…”

Crowley roughly shook his head and grabbed Aziraphale by his shoulders.

He threw himself sideways, causing Aziraphale to lose his balance, curse and fall with him, immediately pushing him down into the couch.

Heartbroken or not, Crowley couldn’t think of a better distraction than this. That shot of love just settled in the back of his mind, to torture him later.

Because, after centuries of watching Aziraphale eat, he wasn’t about to lose the opportunity to be devoured for once.

…….

Five hours later, Aziraphale was sitting at his desk downstairs. He’d put his glasses on, out of habit, and pretended to struggle to read his shop’s stock records.

“That has always been stupidly cute.”

Aziraphale looked over to see Crowley poured over a chair, his hair an absolute mess, and watching him like he was fascinating.

“What’s cute, dearest?” Aziraphale looked at him over the glasses, like he was actually far sighted.

“You have beyond perfect vision, but you pretend you need those. You’ve got all the moves down…fucking adorable.” Crowley rose and stepped behind Aziraphale, smiling softly at his upturned face.

“I’m sorry about these…” he whispered and lightly ran his fingers along the deep scratches, peeking out of his angel’s white undershirt.

“I could heal them. I know they must sting…”

“Leave them.” Aziraphale dismissed his suggestion, with a wave of his hand.

Crowley groaned and sank down, lightly biting the back of Aziraphale’s chair. He had to resist tackling him.

“You don’t even know how sexy that is! It’s not fair!”

Aziraphale pushed his glasses up on his head and turned to face Crowley, smiling down at him on his knees.

“I never understood why I liked your walk, until now.” He confessed.

“Your hips aren’t fair. You’re not allowed on top next time, if I’m ever going to force myself back Upstairs.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and kissed the ring he always wore.

“Come hold me until you have to leave. Please…”

Chapter Text

“How long will I have to wait?” Crowley whispered.

He and Aziraphale were in bed, completely clothed and laying down to face one another. The fear in Crowley’s eyes mirrored Aziraphale’s own feelings.

“Just until morning.” Aziraphale assured him, making sure to sound confident in what he was claiming.

Unlike Crowley, acting had become second nature to him. He’d never have flown under Heaven’s radar, if he hadn’t mastered it.

“Muriel is due, just a few short hours after I go back. They’ll notify you that I’m just fine.”

“And if you’re killed, as soon as you step foot up there?” Crowley was a tight ball of anxiety, hugging himself on top of the blankets.

“That won’t happen.” Aziraphale reached over and held Crowley’s face.

“If the Metatron knew I’d left, I’d be dead already.”

“I’ll believe it when I see you again.” Crowley held Aziraphale’s arm and hid his face in his hand.

“Every moment I’m up there, I’ll be fighting to see you again.” Aziraphale promised.

“I’ll pass Muriel messages, if I’m able. I’ll watch over you from my office, every chance I get…”

“You’ll come back?” Crowley interrupted him. He just needed to hear it, even if it wasn’t true.

“I’ll try.” Aziraphale made a promise and kept it.

“Every single second, I’ll be trying.”

…….

“You actually saw an elevator?” Atticus tilted his head and looked up the side of the darkened building.

“Not exactly.” Miles explained.

“It was just a flash of light, then Muriel came skipping out of no where.”

“He’s going to miss it.” Bethany looked at her phone and saw Aziraphale was due to leave in fifteen minutes.

The three humans were standing on the dimly lit sidewalk, across from A.Z. Fell and Co. They’d been here for an hour, watching the shop and waiting.

“Crowley probably ate him or something.” Atticus huffed and pulled his jacket tighter.

“He’s a demon. What else would he eat, if not angels?”

“He absolutely destroys bottles of booze.” Miles mused.

“I doubt he has room for much else. Skinny guy…”

“What is your problem with him?” Bethany finally demanded of Atticus.

“Seriously? He’s been nothing but kind…”

“He dragged you into all of this! You’ve barely slept since you met him!” Atticus’s patience seemed to have finally reached it’s limit.

“And kind? He’s a DEMON! He’s got you running off in the middle of the night…!”

“To buy flowers.” Bethany didn’t start out with much patience to spare.

“And actually, Aziraphale dragged me into all this. I’m just choosing to stay in it.”

She crossed her arms and looked defiant.

“What would you have me do? Stand by and watch everything be destroyed? Without even trying to stop it?”

“Let someone else do it!” Atticus insisted.

“Someone qualified! A priest or something…how many times have you almost been hurt already?”

“Crowley thinks I’m qualified.” Bethany confidently lied.

“Does he?” Atticus glowered at the shop door.

“Are you his therapist now? Or his pet human?” He snapped and threw his hands up.

“I think Demon Therapist would look cool on your resume.” Miles piped up, already annoyed with Atticus’s insecurities.

“Thank you, Miles.” Bethany didn’t bother getting upset. No time for that.

“We’re here as their friends, Attie. So please, stuff whatever problems you’re creating for yourself in that head of yours.”

Atticus started to defend himself, but they all hushed when the bookshop door opened.

…….

“I’ll do my best to get information down here. I’m not sure how manageable that will be, but…”

Aziraphale was speaking to Bethany, while Crowley stood to his left, clutching the bottom of the angel’s jacket in his hands.

“He’s not sure about anything. He could die as soon as he gets back up there.” Crowley’s gaze was cast downward and his voice was low.

He’d started wringing Aziraphale’s jacket in his fists, reminding Beth of a child, not wanting their parent to leave them on the first day of school.

She’d have found this endearing, were the situation not so sad.

“Well, if anything happens that you need to know about…” she started to assure Aziraphale.

“I’m quite sure I’ll be fine.” Aziraphale interrupted her and linked his arm in Crowley’s, to pull him close.

“Muriel will know as soon as I’m in my office.” He repeated this to Bethany.

“Everything will continue as it was, as far as anyone else up there is aware.”

“You don’t know that, for certain.” Crowley whispered and looked desperate, even behind his sunglasses.

“I know that, if I don’t go back, something terrible will most certainly happen to me . And you as well, so…so this is happening.” Aziraphale spoke sternly.

He released Crowley’s arm and took his hand instead. Crowley kept the jacket clutched in his other fist.

His shoulders dropped and Bethany’s heart broke for him. She couldn’t imagine how he felt.

“Just trust him.” She lightly touched Crowley’s elbow.

“He doesn’t even trust himself.” Crowley spoke to her but didn’t look away from Aziraphale.

“Trust that I don’t have a choice, so, pray for the best possible outcome.” Aziraphale ordered him.

“Pray.” Crowley scoffed. He angrily dropped Aziraphale’s jacket, only to grip his arm instead.

“You swear you contact me in the morning?”

“I swear I’ll try.” Aziraphale corrected him.

“Do you swear you’ll take care of yourself?”

“No.” Crowley hugged him at that.

“But as long as you’re alive, I swear I’ll try.”

“I won’t ask any more of you than that.” Aziraphale promised and hugged him back.

“Hey, guys…” Miles awkwardly interrupted.

Everyone followed his gaze and saw a light coming down from the sky. It was barely noticeable for mortals, but vibrant and familiar to Crowley and Aziraphale.

“Shit. Shit shit shit…” Crowley had been trying his best to be calm, but that illusion was gone.

He roughly grabbed Aziraphale’s old, irreplaceable jacket, once more. This would usually annoy it’s owner, but Aziraphale couldn’t begin to care now.

“Here.” He spoke gently and slid the jacket off.

“Hold on to this for me, yes? Just until we see one another again.”

He opened the jacket and held it out, encouraging Crowley to put it on.

Crowley didn’t hesitate to slide his arms in the sleeves and shrug into it.

The soft, worn fabric hung off his slim shoulders. It made him appear fragile, to anyone who didn’t know any better.

“Swear to me you won’t die. Just…please don’t die.” He begged Aziraphale, before grabbing him again.

He sounded so scared. Aziraphale had to pretend he wasn’t, for his sake.

“I swear I’ll be ok.” He gave in and lied.

He couldn’t swear to what he didn’t know, but Crowley was terrified and he couldn’t stand that.

“For now. Until we all need to fight, but stepping in that elevator won’t kill me. You’ll hear from me in a few short hours.”

“Ok.” Crowley let out a weeping sigh and clung to his words, even though he didn’t believe them. Otherwise, he’d never get through this.

Bethany was holding back tears herself.

So many of the situations, these two beings found themselves in, resulted in their helplessness. She didn’t envy them, regardless of how powerful they were.

The light, that descended from the sky, stopped within the walls of the building they stood in front of.

Crowley and Aziraphale heard a distinct gong, indicating the elevator was ready to use.

“This is a good sign.” Aziraphale assured Crowley and pat his cheek.

“Evangeline will have sent this for me. She knows how to get around all the eyes up there. I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that.” Crowley repeated.

Aziraphale kissed him at that. There was nothing else he could think to do.

“Oh…” Atticus didn’t believe their being a couple, until that moment. Not even when Aziraphale gave Crowley his jacket.

Just a like scene in romantic tragedy.

All of his anxiety, over Bethany and Crowley, flew out the window.

He felt like a giant jerk and stepped forward, when the angel and demon released one another.

“We’ll take care of him.” He assured Aziraphale.

“And from everything I’ve witnessed, I think you’re going to be ok too. We’ve all got this…”

“What’s your name again?” Crowley looked him up and down.

“Dearest.” Aziraphale sighed and led Crowley towards the elevator, giving Atticus a vaguely grateful wave.

…….

“So, if any witches make an appearance…?” Aziraphale asked.

“I’ll run into your shop and lock the door.” Crowley recited and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ll just lock myself in there until everything ends…”

“No, you should make sure to get some air, occasionally. Just be careful.” Aziraphale reached up and took Crowley’s sunglasses off.

He focused on his eyes, like he’d never see them again. In case he never did.

"I love you." He held Crowley’s face with both hands and kissed his lips again, before gently kissing his closed eyes and ending at his forehead.

"I love you. I'm so scared for you..." Crowley got even more desperate.

Aziraphale tried to calm him, with another of those kisses he'd attempted hours before.

He felt Crowley relax his arms, as love shot into him again, before he jerked away.

"You're making it worse!" Crowley collapsed against him and tried to make himself small.

"How? I don’t understand..." Aziraphale held him tightly, baffled by Crowley’s rejection.

Who wouldn't want a dose of pure love? Especially while they're devastated.

"Save it for when we're together again." Was Crowley’s whispered and only explanation.

"Ok...I will. Only for you." Aziraphale promised.

......

"Good luck! Everything will be ok!" Bethany had to look around Crowley, to see Aziraphale in the elevator.

Aziraphale gave her a soft smile and wave, before addressing Crowley once more.

Their voices were soft, but she could tell Crowley was on the verge of a panic attack, while Aziraphale sounded reassuring.

After more hushed goodbyes, Aziraphale had no choice but to push the Up button, on the wall next to him.

He kissed his fingers and reached out with them, to touch the doors as they closed between himself and his demon.

That, and his comforting smile, was the last thing Crowley saw, before the lift gonged and that heavenly light ascended once more, taking Aziraphale with it.

Bethany watched Crowley tense up , as the light got higher and higher. She saw him shudder and clutch his heart, when the glow disappeared into the clouds.

Without seeing his eyes, he just looked like a terrified man, abandoned in his boyfriend's vintage, too big jacket.

He turned and leaned back on the doors, then slid down them to sit and clutch his knees to himself. His snake eyes were wide and Beth assumed he wouldn't blink until those doors opened again.

Chapter Text

The moment the lift doors closed, Aziraphale gave in to the fear he'd been hiding , for Crowley’s sake.

He walked backwards, until he was flat against the white wall, his breath panicked and his mind racing with everything he could be punished for.

Sneaking to Earth. Doing so, in order to save a demon, rather than letting one of "Satan's tools" be destroyed.

Plotting against Heaven's plans. Involving mortals in his schemes.

The scratches down his back...

Aziraphale had a horrid thought and pulled his shirt collar to his nose. His fears were confirmed, when the scent of sulfur and sweat filled his senses.

He smelled of Earth but, more importantly, Hell as well. Almost anyone Upstairs would recognize it immediately.

Aziraphale was so afraid, he couldn’t even miss Crowley yet. Couldn’t begin to grieve leaving him behind.

What if he was right? What if the Metatron was standing outside these doors, with the Book of Life and an ink pen?

What if being destroyed by Hellfire was once again a possibility?

How badly would it hurt?

“Breath. Slow…breath…” Aziraphale muttered to himself but couldn’t take his own advice.

His pulse was jumping in his throat and his eyes stared, unblinking, at the line that separated the lift doors.

Higher and higher it climbed, until he saw the telltale black shadow in the cracks of the doors, indicating he’d reached his destination.

Aziraphale finally squeezed his eyes shut, as the elevator gonged and announced he’d reached Heaven.

He flinched at the sound of the doors opening and pressed himself back against the wall.

There was a moment of silence and Aziraphale couldn’t will his eyes open.

“Right on...time." came a small, familiar and surprised voice.

Aziraphale finally peeked with one eye, to see Evangeline standing before him.

Her endless eyes were just as empty, but her tiny brow was scrunched as she stared at him with obvious scrutiny.

“Why do you reek of demon?” She demanded and actually sniffed in his direction..

Any relief, Aziraphale felt at the sight of her, fled his body and he seized up with fear. How was it that obvious? Had he just gotten that used to the scent of sulfur?

Like how humans became immune to the smell of their own houses, but anyone else who entered noticed immediately?

He tried to lie.

“Hello! Thank you for..ah... Yes, well… you see, I have a demonic adversary, on Earth. He's terribly evil, so he smells quite...um...C…Crowley…”

“Crowley?” Evangaline stepped forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the lift and down the long hallway.

“I know that name.” She whispered and looked around the corner. Their path was clear towards the ‘Corporeal Storage Room’.

“The Metatron hates him. Was that who you went to rescue?”

“No!” Aziraphale started to insist.

"He...he uh...gave me some trouble down there but..."

As far as Evangeline knew, the person she’d allowed him to save was just a human man. Aziraphale had never admitted he'd left to help a demon.

Evangeline didn’t give him a chance to finish his lie.

“Tell me the truth!” She faced him and whisper shouted, her hands in tiny fists at her sides.

Aziraphale glanced around in a panic.

"Get me out of this thing and we'll speak in my office!" He whispered back and motioned at his body.

"The demon Crowley is all that's left of the Star Maker." Evangeline didn't blink or join in his concern of getting caught.

"I was there when he Fell. The man I saw had hair just like him."

Aziraphale froze.

"You...you knew him?"

"Is that who you went down there to save?" Evangeline demanded again.

Aziraphale had to remind himself of how much risk he'd already trusted her with. The child formed thing before him could have betrayed him at any point, since he'd arrived here.

He took a deep, calming breath and spoke steadily.

"Yes. Crowley...he's a dear friend of mine and I had to help him. I mean, you saw what they were doing to him. But he's a different type of demon...

Aziraphale stopped talking and took a step back, when a large smile stretched across Evangeline's face. Too big, as if her mouth yearned to outgrow her little girl head.

The combination of her smile and those eyes gave Aziraphale a deep sense of unease. The Watcher only looked like a kid, he had to remember that.

It was an ancient thing with it's disguises mastered.

"Let’s get you out of that body." Evangeline spun around and hurried off once more.

No skipping or childlike gait, just determined steps and a deeper voice Aziraphale had never heard from her.

"There are some someones you need to meet, Archangel. As soon as possible. "

.......

"What time is it?" Bethany whispered to Miles.

"6:50. Just ten minutes left..." Miles whispered back.

The two of them were exhausted, but they'd sat with Crowley since midnight. The sun had risen and people walked past them on the sidewalk, with nosy glances, but the demon hadn't moved.

Bethany had encouraged him to get some sleep. That it would make the time go by faster and he'd feel better for it, but he'd remained sitting against the elevator doors and staring intensely.

He finally shifted, when Miles announced the time, but only to wrap Aziraphale’s jacket around himself tighter.

Bethany wanted to hug the poor creature, but Crowley didn’t want comfort. Nothing else would matter until he knew Aziraphale’s fate.

Bethany had always wanted to fall in love, but seeing this side of things turned her off of the idea.

Her well-being, depending so desperately on someone else's well-being, was a terrifying thought.

"No thank you." She muttered to herself.

"I was hoping they'd be early." Atticus whispered, as he appeared on her left.

"I think Heaven would be pretty on the nose, time wise." She whispered back and took the coffee he offered.

"That’s what I'm hoping, anyway."

"Well, I got him this, in case it's good news." Atticus handed Miles his latte, and motioned at Crowley with the last drink.

"Six shots in a big cup. Though, caffeine seems like the last thing he needs. Blokes a bit wired."

"He is, but it's sweet you...remembered..." Bethany trailed off, when a flash of light grabbed her attention.

The humans looked up and their hearts started pounding at the exact same time.

"Crowley." Beth spoke gently, to get his attention.

Crowley’s head shot up to look at her and saw where her gaze was focused. He rushed to join the mortals in watching the elevator, descending once more.

......

"I saw him go in his office, on my way to the lift!" Muriel loudly assured Crowley, for the third time.

Crowley was clutching Muriel's shoulders, desperately searching their eyes for dishonesty.

When he didn't see it, he let them go and let his face fall to his hands.

"Fuck. Ok...ok." He whispered to himself, trying to keep his composure.

When he failed at this, Muriel had to step back as he fell to his knees with a sob of relief.

"He's ok." Bethany was shaking as she knelt beside Crowley and gave him a one armed hug around the shoulders.

"Aziraphale is just fine. Just like he promised..."

Muriel kept their eyes to the ground and made a bee line for the bookshop, determined to pretend they didn't know anything about what was going on.

Atticus and Miles stood around Crowley and Beth, blocking some of the rude eyes that walked by.

"It would have been all my fault. " Crowley wiped his eyes on Aziraphale’s jacket sleeve.

"If they'd hurt him. If...if he died. All because I couldn't be on my own for five minutes..."

"Shhh, don't think like that." Bethany hugged him tighter, surprised he didn’t shove her away this time.

She glanced towards the bookshop, then the Bentley, and took a steadying breath.

Her plan was best started as soon as possible, but Crowley was in no position to help her yet. He needed a little time.

And she needed him angry.

"Let’s go inside, yeah? You need rest and something strong to drink. "

Chapter Text

"He thinks he's picky, but he's so easy to please." Crowley was lamenting to Atticus about Aziraphale.

"Oh yeah, how so?" Atticus muttered, uncomfortable with having a depressed demon sprawled out on his bed, in a damp pile of sad.

Atticus was going through his closet, to find something for this weirdo to wear. They were the same build, so he'd been guilted into it.

Crowley hadn’t been ready to step foot in the bookshop yet, so Bethany insisted on bringing him back to their apartment.

"He just wanted my attention. And...poetry. Aziraphale loves poetry and I always pretended it was stupid." Crowley sniffled and rolled over on his back.

"Who is his favorite poet?" Atticus threw a black Queen shirt and gray sweatpants on the bed as well.

He considered giving Crowley a pair of his underwear, but decided he'd finally lose his mind if he had to do that.

"He likes Huxley, quite a bit." Crowley answered his question.

"A night at the Ritz, followed by nice wine and a book of poetry. I don't think he'd even watch television, unless I was there..."

He let out a mournful sigh and turned his gaze to the window, up at the cloudy sky his love had disappeared into.

“He’s classy, like that.”

"The Ritz, eh? Sounds pretty damn picky to me." Atticus snorted.

He flinched when Crowley’s yellow, tear filled glare landed on him.

Oops.

"He just knows his worth. If that's picky to you, you'll die alone. Stupid human..."

"Says the thing who's boyfriend just launched himself into Heaven." Atticus thought. He rubbed his forehead and forced himself to be patient.

For Bethany’s sake.

"I'm sorry if I insulted you. Now, if you'll just get dressed...Beth says you smell like you went for a jog and slept in sweaty clothes.

"Aziraphale said he likes how my sweat smells." Crowley started full on bawling again.

Atticus briefly imagined what those two were doing that made them so sweaty, and talked louder to avoid thinking about it again.

"Welp, that's uh.. nice! Look man, I know you're sad but getting cleaned up might make you feel better!"

"Fine! Dumb humans and their stupid showers." Crowley sat up, with a growl, and wiped his eyes on Aziraphale’s jacket sleeves, before yanking it off.

“If I had my Miracles, I’d magic the dirt away! Acting like you lot is tedious!” He complained and started undressing.

"W...wait! Go in the bathroom...first." Atticus vaguely motioned towards the door.

He averted his gaze to the ceiling, but not before seeing the, darkly bruised, bite marks that covered Crowley’s shoulders and ribs.

"Uh...are you ok?" He muttered, unsure of how concerned he should be.

"No, I'm not ok!" Crowley lashed out and slammed his own shirt on the floor, not realizing what Atticus meant.

"He's in that horrible place again! They're awful to him and he's a soft sweetheart who just takes it..."

Atticus started to argue over how "soft" Aziraphale was. From everything he'd witnessed, that angel was actually horrifying.

His kind demeanor was the only reason Atticus wasn’t completely afraid of him. Especially if those bite marks were his doing….

And what the hell was up with that eyeball covered thing he'd turned into, before punching a demon controlling witch in the face?

"I think he's got his shit handled. " He attempted to comfort Crowley.

"He couldn’t even punish Julius Ceasar!" Crowley argued and flung himself backwards, once more.

"Even after he burned down that library! I'd never seen Aziraphale so devastated as he was over those damn books!"

Atticus was trying to leave the room, but he slowly turned, with his hand still on the doorknob.

"No fucking way." He thought.

"Library? Caesar...he burned down the Library of Alexandria, right?"

Crowley nodded, clutching Aziraphale’s jacket to his bare chest.

“Aziraphale would wander about in there for hours. It was his happy place…and that fucker had it burned to the ground.”

Crowley stared, unblinking, up at the ceiling, with tears running back into his ears.

“It took me months, but I got justice for him. A few, well placed temptations and Caesar was…” he made a series of stabbing motions towards Atticus.

“You’re the reason they murked Julius…Caesar.” Atticus‘s disbelieving tone faded to one of acceptance.

Of course the brains, behind that particular assassination, were in his bedroom. He didn’t know why he bothered being surprised by anything anymore.

“I should have known that I loved him then.” Crowley scrunched the jacket up and shoved his face in it.

“What kind of demon does something like that for anyone? Especially an angel? I should have known! I’m such an idiot!” He blubbered.

Atticus noticed another, stark, bite mark that wrapped around Crowley’s forearm.

If Aziraphale really was the cause…he had perfectly aligned teeth.

“I’m…going to see what Beth is up to. Just call if…if the shower dials are confusing or…” he was barely coherent as he snuck out the door and closed it behind himself.

…….

"Hey, so...do angels eat demons?"

Atticus kept his voice low, as he approached Bethany on the couch.

"I'm worried for your buddy in there. He looks like a...chew toy."

Atticus paused when he realized how Bethany was sitting. Basically hovering over the edge of the couch cushion, her head tilted up a bit.

Listening.

"Shhhh." She softly shushed him.

"What are you doing?" Atticus whispered and looked around.

Every window in their apartment was wide open and the ceiling fan was off.

For some reason, Beth had brought the trash can from the kitchen and taken the lid off, before putting it directly in the middle of the room.

"Bethany...why is our garbage in here?”

"Bait." Bethany explained and tapped the empty pickle jar, in front of her on the coffee table.

“Now hush.”

Atticus was beyond exhausted, suddenly. His life used to be so normal.

“Can I nap on your floor? There is a weeping demon on my bed…”

He was interrupted by a soft buzz, from somewhere in the room.

Bethany’s head snapped towards the window, her body tense and ready to pounce.

Atticus froze and looked about nervously.

“Beth?”

There was another buzz, near his left ear. He took a step back, when Bethany’s gaze whipped back to him.

Her pretty face looked feral. Her blue eyes wide and her hair frazzled. She hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours.

“Close the windows.” She ordered.

“What?”

“Miles! We got one!” She yelled and jumped off the couch, snatching the pickle jar up as she did so.

Miles came running out of the kitchen, with an odd contraption in one hand and his own jar in the other.

“Close the windows!” He yelled at Atticus as well, looking just as wild as Beth.

“Ok! Jesus!” Atticus did as he was told and rushed to the nearest window.

After slamming it shut, he turned to see his friends close the other two, and slowly making their way to the middle of the room.

Miles had fashioned a makeshift net, out of a wooden kitchen spoon and a plastic grocery bag.

He and Bethany seemed to be sneaking up on the garbage can, staring at it with bizarre intensity.

“You’ve all lost your minds.” Atticus decided.

“There!” Miles was pointing in the air, his hand bobbing around, to follow something only he could see.

“Let it land! Don’t scare it!” Bethany looked like a cat stalking a bird.

Atticus gave up on trying to understand anything that was happening. Instead, he kicked off his shoes, plopped on the couch and allowed himself to fall asleep.

The insanity would obviously continue, whether he was conscious or not.

Chapter Text

“I miss him. Oh Satan, what am I supposed to do?”

Crowley had slept in Atticus’s bed. He'd forced himself to sleep, otherwise he’d have cried all night or snuck out the window to find a liquor store.

Now, it was the next morning. He was dressed in Atticus’s clothes and sitting on the couch, surrounded by Bethany’s other roommates.

“I get it, man.” Finn, a beefy sports type, pat him on the back as he sat next to him.

“When my girlfriend moved away, to go to a different school, I didn’t eat for a week.”

“H…how did you survive?” Crowley sniffled and wiped his eyes under his sunglasses.

“I just had to. No choice, really.” Finn shrugged.

"How long were you with her?"

"Ah...a month and half, maybe."

"Jesus Christ on a bike!" Crowley sobbed and went noodle limp, sliding off the couch and onto the floor.

"Hey! She was cool!" Finn defended himself.

"I cried by myself in my room for a whole day! Bethany says that's healthy to admit..."

“He also smoked a shit ton of weed.” Aaron, Bethany’s artsy friend, added.

“That wasn’t any any different than his every day.” Martin,a small bespectacled guy, snickered.

"Please don’t tell her that." Finn whispered to Crowley, who'd managed to pull himself up enough to press his face into the couch cushion.

"Do you want a tissue? Sorry, but we don't know what demon tears will do to that fabric..."

Crowley glared up at the last guy, Benjamin, who looked back sympathetically, even as he blew a cloud of banana scented vape smoke in everyone’s face.

"This couch smells like corn chips." Crowley argued back at him.

“Bethany will know what to say, when she’s not busy.” Benjamin ignored Crowley’s statement and offered him a hit of his vape pen.

“She always knows what to say. Especially when it comes to romantic issues.”

“Aziraphale isn’t an issue.” Crowley insisted and grimaced at the second cloud of sweet fog.

“He’s the solution to everything thats ever fucked my life up. He…ugh, if you knew him you’d understand.”

Crowley started crying again and even accepted being pat on the back by the crowd of human boys. He yanked away when Finn tried to hug him, however.

“Watch it.” He spoke lowly and started to stand up.

“Nah, come on man…” Finn grabbed his arm and encouraged him to sit back down.

“We’re here for you.”

“Yeah, just take those things off and hit this.” Benjamin motioned at Crowley’s sunglasses with his vape.

“You don’t want me to take these off.” Crowley let out an exasperated groan. He let his face fall to his hands and shook his head.

“Where the hell did Beth go? Why aren’t you all in school?”

“Dude, we already know what you are.” Martin seemed way too interested in seeing Crowley’s eyes again.

“Beth trusts you. And whatever is going on is way more interesting than anything else we’re doing.

Benjamin offered Crowley the stupid vape again.

“I have this but I can roll a joint, if you’re old school…”

“You don’t even know the meaning of old school.” Crowley’s mask of annoyance fell away and he just looked heartbroken again.

“I haven’t touched that stuff since the 70s.”

“Well, it’s the Devil’s Lettuce, right? My mom calls it that…” Martin shrugged.

“He’s not the devil, dummy. Uh…right?” Benjamin gave a Crowley a frightened look.

Crowley didn’t answer. Instead, he slid onto the floor again and stayed there.

“This is so sad, I’ll be right back.” Benjamin hopped up and hurried to his room.

.....

"I'll help, but I've gotta be honest..." Atticus was walking down their apartment balcony, toting a shopping bag full of odd things.

"I know what you think." Bethany cut him off when they reached their door.

"It will work or it won't. But, after everything we've seen, how can you think it's not possible, at least?"

"That's fair." Atticus sighed and watched her dig for the keys in her purse. He looked to the door and remembered he'd worried him, the entire time they were gone.

"You're sure it was safe leaving him alone with them?"

"Crowley knows how to handle himself around humans. He's been doing it for thousands of years." Bethany defended the demon.

“And he’d never hurt one. Not for no good reason.”

“He’s not who I’m worried about.” Atticus followed her as she entered the apartment.

They were met with the low sound of spacey music and a skunky, burnt smell that permeated every room.

“Guys, come on! I begged you not to smoke that crap in here!” Bethany threw her bag on a table and stomped into the living room.

“Open a window…at least!” Her mouth fell open when saw what was happening on the couch.

“Heeeey, Bethy. Sorry…we…your friend was sad! We…” Benjamin had already been giggling, but fell apart when he looked at Crowley.

The rest of the boys were sat on the floor, watching a nature documentary on television, also high out of their minds.

They slowly looked over at Crowely and burst out laughing as well.

Crowley’s sunglasses were off and he was sprawled out on the couch. His legs and arms were too long to allow anyone else to sit with him.

His yellow eyes were wide and fixated on the ceiling fan, trying their best to follow it’s motion.

There was a glass bong on the coffee table. The water inside had, mostly melted, ice cubes and crushed mint floating in it.

“Check it out, this guy is fancy as hell!” Benjamin motioned to the bong.

“He told us to muddle herbs and junk in it! It’s so smooth now!”

“Oh no…not cool, guys…” Atticus joined Bethany and had to hold in his own laugh.

“Beth? Beth, look at that.” Crowley finally spoke softly and pointed up at the fan.

“Look at what?” Bethany was beyond frustrated and forgot to speak gently to him.

She moved to stand by the couch and looked up at the ceiling.

“I don’t see anything. Now, come on! Get that stuff out of you system and come talk to me.”

“It’s just like me.” Crowley sadly announced.

“I saw you get rid of all that alcohol you drank. I bet you can do the same with weed smoke…”

“It just goes and goes and goes and goes…” Crowley’s finger was following the fan now.

“But it’s stuck in one place. No matter how fast or hard it runs, it’s stuck where someone else decided it has to be…”

“What…?”

“It’s just like me.” Crowley covered his eyes and started crying.

Bethany didn’t understand how he wasn’t as dry as sponge, after all these tears.

“Awwww, man. No. Come on.” Her boys started to get closer to comfort him.

“Would you just get out of here, please?!” Bethany snapped at them.

“I’ve told you that weed is a depressant! He’s already sad!”

“We forgot!” The boys sounded genuine but she was unmoved.

Atticus hit pause on a nearby speaker and the spacey music stopped. He jerked his thumb toward the kitchen and led the other guys in there.

…….

“I hate that stuff.” Crowley admitted.

Bethany watched faint, black smoke pouring from his nostrils, clearing his system of what he’d inhaled.

“Then why did you smoke it?” Bethany sighed and sat next to him on the couch.

“You’re a bit old to be peer pressured.

“Because I promised I wouldn’t drink.” Crowley admitted.

“Your boys are dorks, by the way.”

“They’re sweethearts who mean well. But yes, big dorks.” Bethany agreed.

Crowley was clear minded now and staring at the muted television. Two swans were on screen, swimming side by side, on a calm and beautiful lake.

“Now what?” He asked no one in particular.

“Aziraphale is gone. I’m alone again…”

“You’re not alone.” Bethany touched his arm.

Crowley huffed and sadly rolled his eyes. He resisted outwardly lamenting the short life spans of humans.

Getting too attached to Bethany and the rest would be a stupid move. Comparing their life expectancy to his own was like comparing a human’s to a fruit fly’s.

Aziraphale was his only option at a lifelong companion, and not because he was the only one Crowley wanted.

“I’m alone. And everyone else is better off for that.” He assured her and stood.

“Thank you for yesterday. And everything else…but I need to go. Ugh, I’ll just live in the Bentley for a while…”

Bethany watched him start to leave and knew she’d be able to stop him.

“Aziraphale is all alone too.” She spoke carefully.

Crowley slowly turned to look at her. That argumentative glare was back in place.

“And you promised him you’d stay in the book shop.”

“I’ll stay nearby…”

“Crowley, why are you so sad?” Bethany stood as well and took three determined steps towards him.

Crowley looked confused.

“Seriously?” She demanded and threw her hands up.

“It doesn’t make any sense. Why aren’t you pissed?”

“W…well…Aziraphale…”

“Is gone! That’s right, he’s gone!” Bethany stepped closer and looked up at him with a serious expression.

“What aren’t you livid? This crying and moping and running doesn’t help anyone!”

“What do you expect me to do?” Crowley squared up and looked offended.

“I’m helpless…”

“Like when Sheila had you? Are you that helpless?”

Crowley eyebrows slowly descended down his forehead, giving him that terrifying glare at the memory of what the witch did to him.

“No.” He admitted.

“Aziraphale escaped Heaven to come punch that bitch in the face for you!” Bethany went on and motioned towards the door.

“He risked his life! And she hurt you so badly!”

“What about it?” Crowley shrugged, looking angry and frustrated.

“I can’t do anything to her now! Not what she deserves…there are rules!”

“But you could do something to her, yeah?” Bethany pushed and looked far too eager.

“Come on, revenge is more productive than getting high and crying!”

Crowley looked suspicious now. It wasn’t like Bethany to encourage anyone into risk and violence.

His shoulders dropped at the thought of revenge. Whatever she was trying to get him hyped up for wasn’t working.

“Oh, what would be the point?” He sadly asked.

“She’ll be tortured for eternity, which will probably start any day now. There is no point to anything…”

“I bet Aziraphale’s hand hurt, from slamming her through that wall.” Bethany added.

“And it’s actually her fault he risked his life for you. If she’d left you alone, he’d never have had to sneak back to Earth…”

Chapter Text

"You left them alone with a demon , for two hours, and they got him high?" Miles kept laughing at the image.

"Yep. At nine in the morning." Bethany sighed and watched Crowely pace back and forth on his cellphone.

It was early in the evening and they'd taken one of the last buses to Aziraphale’s shop.

Crowley still wasn’t ready to go in there, so he’d sent Atticus in to grab the keys to the Bentley.

“Don’t touch anything else…but it’s the second door on the left. Look in the side table, right when you walk in.”

Crowley paused and looked annoyed at whatever Atticus was saying over the phone.

“No, it’s not usually that messy in there. We…we just…look, when I move in I’ll clean it up. Mind your business!” He hung up with a jab of his thumb and crossed his arms.

…….

“There were claw marks on the walls.” Atticus whispered to Bethany and Miles.

The boys were in the Bentley’s backseat, while Bethany sat in the passenger seat.

Crowley was on the sidewalk, clutching his keys and pacing some more, his eyes locked on the bookshop’s door.

He'd adorned Aziraphale’s jacket, once more, and it flapped behind him like a tan cape.

“Maybe they got in a fight.” Miles commented on the wrecked bookshop Atticus had seen.

“Demons probably hide their claws, like cats. Crowley got them out and they had a passionate lover’s quarrel…perhaps.”

“They had a lover’s something.” Atticus’s eyes were wide, recalling the splintered bed he’d come across.

“Did you see that bite on his arm? They’re all over him! I don’t know if it’s kinky or…”

“Would you two stop it, please?” Bethany was red faced and glaring at them in the rearview mirror.

There was a long moment of silence.

“Dude, I bet they bang like…I bet it’s just crazy!” Miles couldn’t help himself.

“Stop it!” Bethany whipped around and snapped at him, right as Crowley opened the driver’s side door.

He was breathing hard and gripped the steering wheel, twisting his fist around it as he slammed the door shut.

After shedding Atticus’s pajamas, Crowley had dressed himself to the nines once more. Black on black sleek, with Aziraphale’s jacket fashionably clashing.

“Properly pissed?” Bethany asked, impatiently.

“Aziraphale could have died because of her.” Crowley focused on this fact, glaring towards the road in front of them.

"And she tortured you..." Beth added.

"Aziraphale could have died." Crowely repeated, making it clear that was his reason for going along with her suggestion of revenge.

Bethany was right, this was a far better distraction than booze and any other human drug.

The Bentley started playing 'Killer Queen’, just as Crowley took his sunglasses off and tossed them at Beth’s feet.

The particular song was one the Bentley played as a bit of a theme for it’s owner, whenever he needed a shot of confidence.

"Let's go pretend to burn a witch." Crowley grinned and his car zoomed off, causing all the humans within to scream.

......

“You’re certain it’s gone?”

Sheila Belvue was sitting in her luxurious armchair, with an ice pack over one side of her face.

Her condo was dark and silent, save for the dim light and consistent bubbling of her large and expensive saltwater fish tank.

“Yes. That particular angel isn’t on Earth anymore.” One of her spies assured her, over the phone.

“Crowley is the only creature in London. Occult or otherwise.”

Sheila pondered this, as she watched the rare and beautiful fish swim back and forth.

She’d invested in this tank, in order to have a source of moving water and life in her home, for the sake of certain spells.

It also calmed her, to tend to something outside of herself. She didn’t care about other humans much, but she almost loved these fish.

They were the only thing keeping her from setting this building and her entire coven on fire.

"I knew he was bluffing." She spoke coolly to the witch on the other end of the call.

"I'll just have to capture Crowley once more and order it to attack the angel on sight, should it show its face down here again."

Sheila let her robe slide open, as she stood and set the ice pack next to her fishtank.

She was dressed in black, silk pajamas and looked quite elegant, save for the bruising that covered one side of her face.

Aziraphale’s punch had cracked the bone in her cheek and her eye was swollen completely shut.

Her potions and time would heal her better than any doctor could, but she was still infuriated. Especially since that blow should have killed her.

Puny humans simply didn't survive being slammed through brick walls. Not unless some supernatural force chose mercy.

The angel was stronger than she could ever hope to be and still chose mercy. No matter how much of Satan's influence and Hell's power she wielded, it was useless against those winged assholes that lorded over everything.

Even one as soft and gentle as the bookshop owner. It made her feel pathetic.

"It will regret it." Sheila spoke aloud and hung up the phone. She slipped it in her pocket and began to lightly run her fingers along the surface of her fish's water.

"If it stands in my way again, it will have no choice but to kill it's little demon friend." She told the black cichlid that chased her fingers back and forth.

"I won’t let Crowley hold back. It may even win, if the angel is too sentimental towards it..." Sheila was interrupted by a searing, white hot pain in her finger tips.

She yelled and yanked her hand out of the water, which had started to boil right before her eyes.

Her precious fish instantly went belly up, their bodies coming apart from the heat of the water bubbling around them.

Sheila screamed, when the tank shattered, spilling water, decor and dead fish all over her nice floor.

She clutched her hand to her chest looked about frantically, searching for some explanation for the horror she'd just experienced.

There was movement to her right and she jerked to face it, almost slipping on the still hot water that covered the floor.

A large, and familiar, black snake was making its way towards her. Silently sliding through her dark bedroom, where she'd left a window open.

"Get out!" She screeched and began to throw whatever she could reach at the thing.

The books and coasters caused it no harm. She tried picking up a heavy lamp to hit it with and screamed in agony when the metal turned hot and scorched her as well.

The snake was changing now. Rising up and growing long limbs, it's new legs walking in that cocky way she hated.

The Demon Crowley was standing before her, his yellow eyes the only snakelike feature that remained.

"Hello, Sheila."

Crowley seemed to be wearing the angel’s jacket. He made himself even taller, to loom over her. His voice cracked underneath, like logs in a fireplace.

Sheila had begun to shake and almost wet her pants, when the smell of smoke filled her nostrils.

She recalled every terrible thing, she'd put this creature through, and couldn't see where an apology would fix it.

"Oh, what to do with you?" Crowley stepped closer, his hands in fists at his sides, as flames began to grow at his feet.

"I should turn to you into a tree and let termites infest you." He hissed, the firelight casting horrible shadows on his face.

"I'd let you keep every human nerve you posess. That way, you could still feel them eating you from the inside out."

His eyes were completely yellow and their pupils were thin, black lines. Like a cat stalking prey.

"Trees don't have mouths, so you won't be able to scream. No matter how desperately...

"I'm s....sorry. Please have mercy, please." Sheila’s voice was trembling as she knelt on the floor.

Her hands were clasped in prayer and she bowed to him, desperately begging as the fire started licking at her nice clothes.

"Mercy. Mercy...."

"Wrong guy!" Crowley was laughing now, a guttural and demonic sound. All the masking to make his voice sound human was gone.

"Let's see how you fair, having hair growing inside your eyelids. Maybe I'll force you to eat your own tongue, over and over and over..."

Sheila was too busy being terrified, and Crowley was too busy terrifying her, to see Bethany sneak out of the bedroom behind him.

Beth was fearlessly tip toeing around the fire that engulfed everything. She seemed to be searching for something.

Chapter Text

"You were right, blondie! That was incredibly cathartic!"

Crowley had flung himself into the Bentley’s driver’s side and gave Bethany a winning smile.

Bethany smiled back and did a good job of pretending she'd been waiting out here for him, the entire time.

"Turning the other cheek is highly overrated." She agreed.

"Especially when a bitch steals your autonomy. I'd say violence is always justified, in such cases..."

"Pretendy violence, in the very least." Crowley snickered.

"Hey! What the hell are we supposed to do with these?" Miles demanded from the back seat.

Crowley and Beth looked back to see he and Atticus clutching a large, blue bucket each. These buckets were full of saltwater and Sheila’s fish.

Crowley had passed them through the window with no explanation.

"Hm. We could fill up your bathtub and dump them in there, I suppose." Crowley shrugged.

"We use our bathtub." Miles flatly replied.

"Daily." Atticus added.

"Soooo....fish?" Bethany finally questioned it.

"Well, our Ms.Belvue is up there, wildly hallucinating as we speak." Crowley nodded up at Sheila’s condo.

"She'll be at it for a few days or so and I couldn't leave the little guys in there, all alone. Not without anyone to care for them. "

"Aw." Bethany simpered a little at that and gave him doe eyes. Atticus scoffed loudly clutched his bucket tighter.

"Besides, as far as she knows, I boiled her precious fishies to death." Crowley went on as he started the Bentley.

"The fun is ruined if she wakes up and sees they're just fine."

"Ah, of course. Boiled..." Bethany’s doe eyes disappeared.

"Speaking of bathtubs, I stink." Crowley grimaced and sniffed his shirt.

The smell of wet ash was permeating his car. Was it that strong, the entire time he was near Sheila? He didn't think so...

"Let's stop at a petshop!" Bethany interrupted his train of thought.

Crowley nodded in agreement and hit the gas. He missed Beth tucking a certain book down even further, between her seat and the door.

......

"You're not even going to help?" Atticus tossed a piece of Styrofoam at Crowley.

It fell just short of hitting him, where he sat on their couch, once more. He was staring off. Looking through the boys who were trying to put together the fishtank he'd forced on them.

"I paid for it. Just read the instructions." Crowley grumbled and kicked the empty cardboard box away from himself.

The high, over getting back at Sheila, was short lived. All the sadness about Aziraphale was settling in once more.

Fresh and dreadful.

He imagined his pretty angel, watching over him through his office window. How sad he'd be, if he could feel what Crowley was feeling.

Azirphale's empathy was one of Crowley’s favorite things about him, but it was such a burden to pretend to be ok all the time.

Acting suave and unbothered, especially when he wanted to fall apart, had protected his angel's feelings for centuries. But Crowley just didn't have it in him anymore.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, in case Aziraphale was listening, and started crying again.

"Oh, love. You poor sweet thing..." Bethany appeared, seemingly out of no where, and was on him with tissues.

"W...what?" Crowley awkwardly shifted as she shoved him to sit up and make room on the couch.

"You're just...uh...breaking my heart. Here." Bethany hugged him tightly and rubbed his back.

Crowley was gradually getting comfortable with humans giving him physical affection, her at least, but this was too much.

"I'm fine, ease up." He tried to politely pull back.

"Sorry, here you are." Bethany handed him a box of tissues, in a business like manner.

"Nah, I'm fine. I'll be heading out...." Crowley wiped his tears on his sleeve and started to stand.

"Wait!" Bethany almost shouted.

Crowley sat back down, like an obedient dog, and looked confused.

"You're not ready to be by yourself yet." Betbany insisted and shoved the box of tissues at him.

"I'll be f..."

"Imagine being in that bookshop, all alone." Bethany pushed.

"Everything will smell like him. You'll be reminded, constantly..."

"Duh!" Crowley threw his hands up, already feeling tears welling up in his eyes.

"Tell me something I don't know, Christ..."

"Yeah, Beth. Jeez." Atticus set down the tank heater he was assembling and gave Crowley a worried look.

"Do you really want to park your car outside his shop and just sleep in it? Azirphale might see you from up there and be so sad." Beth was laying it on thick.

This image was enough for the tears to start falling again. Crowley let out a pitiful sound started to wipe them away again.

Bethany beat him to it. She quickly swiped a tissue, across both his cheeks, catching as many of his tears as she could.

Crowley was motionless, in shock, and watched her jump up and hurry back her room.

"You'll be fine! Take a nap!" She insisted and slammed the door.

"What the hell?" Crowley muttered and touched his face, where she'd stolen his tears.

"Uuuuh...you can have my bed, if you like." Atticus quickly grabbed Crowley’s attention.

"Or fucking help us with this." Miles tossed a tangle of wires back in their box.

He was so annoyed by the fishtank, he hadn’t noticed Bethany’s weird behavior.

"I'm napping." Crowley announced and slumped off to Atticus’s room.

"Wake me up when everything is better."

......

Crowley jerked awake, some time later. He sat up in the bed, breathing hard and trying to stop his shaking hands.

He'd fallen asleep in his clothes and shoes, basically just turning off like a machine, the moment his head touched the pillow.

But unlike a machine, or even most demons, he still dreamed when he slept. This was the first of many nightmares he'd end up having, caused by the events of the last year and a half.

Later, there would be a lot of Aziraphale abandoning him over and over. Or his lover being hurt, while Crowley was frozen in place and unable to help.

But, this time, he'd been under Sheila’s control in his dream. Wreaking havoc and helpless to stop himself. Begging her to let him stop while she laughed.

It had been so vivid, he could practically smell that disgusting wet ash scent that followed the witch.

"Wait a minute..." Crowley was still trembling, but he threw his feet of the bed and sniffed the air around him.

His sense of smell was supernaturally keen. He hadn't imagined the scent. In fact, it was so potent, it had likely been the cause of this particular nightmare.

Witchcraft was happening nearby. The bad kind.

"Bethany!" Crowley yelled her name and barreled out Atticus’s dark bedroom.

He followed his nose towards her room, the glow under her door was the only light on in their apartment.

"Beth! Whatever you're doing...!"

He threw himself against her door as he turned the knob. The scene before him was worse than he'd imagined.

"....stop!" He had time to finish his sentence, right as there was a flash of movement behind him and to his left.

"Sorry!" Miles rushed around Crowley, pouring something out of a cup as he did so.

"Not my idea! Just...sorry!" Atticus was doing the same, coming from his right.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Crowley tried to rush Bethany, but another horrid smell hit his nostrils.

Crowley was seething, as he slowly looked down to see what the boys had poured on the floor.

He immediately had to squint, but not before seeing the circle of cursed salt they'd formed around him.

"Crowley, listen. We'll let you out as soon as..." Bethany hadnt moved, from her spot next to the large red circle on her bedroom hardwood.

"How dare you?" Crowely didn't move, save for his eyes.

They followed and terrified the boys, who were backing up to hide behind Bethany.

His gaze landed on the large, glass jar Bethany held. It appeared to contain a single, wadded up tissue and nothing else.

"What. Is.That?" His voice was slow and crackling.

Bethany recognized the change, from when he'd threatened Sheila, but she knew he was harmless at the moment.

"It's a fly." She answered him and held the jar out for him to see. Crowley saw the insect flutter a bit and land, a small black dot on his tear stained tissue.

"A fly." His voice growled from depths humans couldn’t fathom. He was so furious that electricity began to build in the room, causing everyone's hair to stand up.

"Yes." Bethany whispered and set the jar in the middle of her summoning circle.

"I'm so so so so sorry..."

Chapter Text

"They won't be able to hurt us!" Bethany was arguing with Crowley.

"They'll be stuck in my circle and they'll have to hear us out..."

"Beezlebub isn't who you should be worried about!" Crowley was pacing within the space they'd salted him into.

His hair was sticking up, like an angry cat's fur, and the metallic scent of lightning was coming from him.

"Gabriel will follow them and smite you, no questions asked! You're about to kidnap the person he gave up Heaven for!"

He stopped pacing and started to angrily beg.

"Please! Please don't be idiots! Summoning a demon is low enough, but this one is guarded by an ex archangel! We won't survive!"

"I...I thought he was your friend?" Bethany stammered.

"Jim, was our...acquaintance. Gabriel is fucking murderous! He tried to kill Aziraphale!"

"What the fuck? Why?" Miles dropped his, now empty, salt cup and gave Bethany an accusatory look.

"You said angels are nice!"

"They're supposed to be!" Bethany defended herself.

"Who the Hell is Jim?" She asked Crowley.

"Jim is Gabriel! He...it will take too long to explain but you need to let me out and stop this!"

"No." Bethany’s voice was more confident than her expression.

"Yes!" Crowley argued and tried to lunge at her, as he watched her pick up that foul black book from atop her dresser.

The toe of his boot brushed the line of salt and he was thrown backwards. He landed perfectly in the middle of the circle and flat on his back.

Bethany froze and watched him stand back up, still cursing and arguing with her. When she realized he wasn't hurt, she went back to opening the book and silently reading a specific page for the hundredth time.

"Bethany, you don't understand! Being summoned hurts! It's one of the worst things a human can do to a demon!"

Crowley was reliving the memory of what Sheila had done to him. The pain, of being ripped through the blackness between planes of existence, had been brief.

Brief, but excruciating.

"I hate that happened to you." Bethany truthfully assured him.

"But how many humans has Beezlebub hurt? How much pain have they caused and gotten away with it? "

Crowley was starting to hate her reasoning abilities.

"This isn't going to go how you think! They're not going to buddy up with us and take on Heaven because Gabriel will end us all on sight!"

"Better to be smitten now than to wait for it to happen...only God knows when!" Bethany shouted back and slammed the book shut.

"Smitten?" Miles mouthed and shared a confused look with Atticus.

"Your lot is coming to kill us all!" Bethany went on, after getting as close to Crowley as she could, her voice full of angry tears.

"They can dress it up as whatever they want! Armageddon or the Second whatever, but that's what it boils down to! Murder! And if none of you will help us, we won't stand a chance!"

Crowley, once again, had no argument. He could only glare down at her from the edge of his salt trap.

"I'd rather drop dead now than live in fear over when that all happens and I refuse to let it! Not without a fight!"

"I have an idea!" Miles held up his finger and loudly interrupted.

"What?" Crowley and Bethany snapped at the same time.

"Uh..give us like fifteen minutes." He shrank down under their angry looks and motioned for Atticus to follow him out of Bethany’s room.

......

"You stole my tears right off my face. Typical Kindling behavior." Crowley hadn't stopped glaring at Beth, the entire time they waited on her boys.

"You learned a lot from that bitch. But Sheila wouldn't be proud, she'd just kill you. "

"Because I'm not like her." Bethany was thumbing through the cursed book and wouldn't look at him.

"She stole you. I'm just trying to survive." She sniffed and lifted her eyes, nervously staring him down in return.

"And to help you survive, as well."

"You're going to get me killed and I can't even attempt to defend myself." Crowley motioned at the salt circle.

"Who do you think Gabriel will go after first? A few mortal idiots? Or the idiot demon who was stupid enough to trust them?"

"You can trust me." Bethany sadly replied.

"I'm sorry. I'll let you go as soon as this is finished and I'll never use magic again."

Crowley scoffed, not anywhere close to forgiving her.

"No, I can't trust you. I was stupid to think...."

"Besides...it probably won't work, ya know?" Bethany interrupted him.

"Even with a demon's tears. I'm barely a witch and Satan isn't on my side."

She closed the book and set it on her pink bed, looking forlorn.

"I'm so scared, Crowley. I'm scared and I can't just do nothing...not when I know what I know now."

She let out a soft sob, but tried to look determined.

"I have a little brother. I never told you that but I do...he's only ten."

Bethany wiped her eyes and managed stop crying.

"He's innocent, by human standards. I have no idea what standards Heaven would judge him by. Or my parents...I love my parents."

Crowley felt a jab of sympathy for her, finally. He knew what it was like, living in helpless fear of Heaven’s inevitable endings.

And to fear for someone he loved, barreling towards those endings.

"I told you not to speak to Aziraphale. I told you...and he shouldn't have said anything." Crowley cast an angry look upwards.

"How would we be able to help him if we don't know what we're up against?" Bethany defended the angel.

"You still have no idea what you're up against..." Crowley seethed, as the door slammed open once more.

"Done!"

Miles clamored in with Atticus in tow. Both were holding up large, square pieces of cardboard and looked pleased with themselves.

.......

"What the actual fuck?" Crowley swore he'd have a stroke if he were a human man.

"Are you seriously this stupid? How did you all hide it for so long?"

"It's not stupid." Miles defended his work and held up the sign. They'd used pieces of the box, that held the fish tank, and had written their messages in big letters and several exclamation marks.

'"Please Don't Smite Us Gabriel!!!!!!"

"We used blue paint." Atticus added and halfheartedly waved his own sign.

"It's supposed to be a calming color."

"Stupid. Idiots. Walking dead, fucking idiots!" Crowely was pacing and cursing again.

"They're great, guys!" Bethany spoke over him and motioned for her boys to stand by her.

"It worked when Muriel showed Aziraphale Mile's message. Why wouldn't it work now?"

"Well...uh. Aziraphale lived on Earth for a long time, yeah?" Atticus hesitantly asked Crowley.

"Yes." Crowley flatly replied, as he clearly tried to burn the cardboard signs with just his eyes.

"So, he knows human letters and such, but...um...can Gabriel even read?"

"What kind of question is that?" Crowley snapped.

"He's existed since before the written word was a concept!"

"Ok!" Atticus held his hands up and took a step back.

"I don't know anything about anything!"

"None of you do!" Crowley was shouting now

"You're about to get us all killed and you don't even understand what's going to kill you!"

Chapter Text

"Your pronunciation is horrible." Crowley was smugly belittling Bethany, from the edge of his salty cage.

Bethany stopped reading aloud from the black book and glared at him. She'd been attempting to summon Beezlebub for half an hour.

Crowley was right. She was absolutely butchering the ancient language she was attempting to speak.

"Maybe you could help me then?"

"Not going to happen." Crowley grinned and crossed his arms. He'd relaxed quite a bit, after hearing Beth struggle with even the simplest words.

"Giving up is still an option. Letting me the hell out of here was always the correct option..."

"Maybe we could try Google Translate?" Atticus chimed in.

He and Miles were sitting on Bethany’s bed, watching her fail over and over.

"Wot?" Crowley demanded and tried his best to bore a hole in Atticus’s skull, with just a look. It didn't work.

"I mean, surely you just have to say the right thing? Even if it's in English. " Atticus took out his phone and opened the appropriate app.

"Hey! When I get out of here, little boy, I'm going to...uh...fl...flay? Skin you!"

Atticus managed to ignore the demon's empty threat, as he stood next to Bethany and held his phone's camera lense over the ancient words on the page.

Shockingly, they watched these words go from indecipherable, to almost perfect English, on the phone's screen.

"You're brilliant." Bethany cooed, near his ear.

"Ah, n....no I'm not! Technology is...um...just...it's cool!" Atticus was blushing as pink as Bethany’s sheets and almost dropped his phone.

"Smooth." Miles muttered and rolled his eyes.

Atticus was grinning ear to ear, but Crowley’s next words wiped the smile off his face.

"She's about to get you killed. The pretty blondes always get you killed..."

Bethany wasn't paying him any attention, she was too busy lighting black candles and dimming the lights.

......

"Ok..." Bethany took a deep, steadying breath and checked her work space one more time.

A red circle, drawn with a mix of red paint and blood. The sigils were written, perfectly, in Sheila's bone chalk. All of this was circled in candles and, of course ,the salt as a final safety measure.

The stars of the show were in still in their jar. Crowley’s tears and that little fly.

All flies belonged to Beezlebub, according to Aziraphale. Like Crowley’s feathers, to possess a fly was to possess a piece of the former Prince of Hell.

That was the theory, anyway. Only one way to find out.

"Beth! You're too smart to be this stupid!"

Bethany tuned Crowley out, as best she could, and just focused on the words before her.

Holding the heavy book open on one arm, she hovered Atticus’s phone over the words and read them aloud, as they were translated.

The summoning spell sounded odd, in English, but she felt some part of her latch on to the words. A part deep within that she'd never accessed before.

Whatever it was, the more she read, the more obvious it became, until it seemed to swell out of her, as a dome of energy that covered the summoning circle and everything within.

......

"Crowley." Crowley whipped around at his name being whispered behind him. He'd been so focused on Bethany, he hadn’t noticed her boys hiding behind him.

"What?" He snapped and tried to grab Miles, but he was still just out of reach.

Crowley glared at both boys, until he realized they were staring at the window. That's when the sound hit his ear.

Buzzing. Thumping. Thumping and buzzing.

"Oh no. It's working..."

The sky had been dusky just moments before, as the sun set, but it was jet black outside now.

The sun hadn't set, though. It was blocked.

By flies.

"I'm going to be sick." Atticus whispered and actually gagged as they watched the swarming, creeping insects climb all over one another, on the glass.

Bethany hadn't noticed or slowed down. She kept reading. Not blinking or moving a muscle, aside from her mouth.

Her words were stabbing Crowley’s ears. The room was heating up quickly and he felt a pull, coming from Beth's summoning circle.

He slowly turned back towards the witch and saw a black "smudge", floating within the circle. Like a a hole was forming in mid air.

The pull got stronger and the buzzing from outside got louder.

"Get down." He whispered.

Atticus and Miles didn't hear him, they were still staring out the window and shivering.

"Get down!" Crowley shouted and threw himself on the floor.

The boys screamed and scrambled into the salt circle with him, kneeling down and covering their heads with their hands.

The glass of the window finally shattered, spraying shards all over Crowley’s back. This was followed by the swarm of flies, forcing their way into the room and directly at Bethany.

They stopped just short of her, as they flew over the summoning circle and began to form a circle within, until they were a perfectly black sphere of buzzing.

Bethany read faster and held her hand towards the circle. The buzzing became overwhelming, until it stopped suddenly.

The sound was replaced by a voice Crowley, unfortunately, recognized. This voice was screaming and forced him to look up from his hiding place on the floor.

"Gabriel! Help me! Gabe...what the fuck! What the...Gabriel!"

"Oh shit! No, no, no...." Crowley scrambled to stand and took in who Bethany had successfully summoned.

A petite demon with black hair was stumbling and squeezing their eyes shut, within the summoning circle, still screaming bloody murder.

Beezlebub looked different. Their usual all black attire was gone, replaced with a white, overly long night shirt and bare legs.

The sleeves of this nightshirt were too long as well and covered their hands. That wasn’t Beezlebub's shirt...

"Where are you, you bloody pieces of shit? Who...oh, when I get my hands on you!"

Beezlebub was still blind, but they were cursing at whoever did this to them.

"Hi! Oh my...uh, Lord Beezlebub! It's an honor..." Bethany closed the book and ran to hide behind Crowley as well.

Beezlebub followed her voice and spun around. They looked uncharacteristically human and vulnerable, despite Crowley knowing better.

With gritted teeth and clenched fists, his old boss struggled to open their eyes.

When they finally did, Crowley hated the empathy he felt as realization spread over Beezlebub's face, when they saw the red circle.

Helplessness was an unfamiliar feeling to someone so powerful.

"C...Crowley?" Beezlebub's voice shook, when they finally looked at him.

"Heeeey....uh....Your Excellence! Listen, this wasn’t my idea..." Crowley bowed to the other demon, revealing the young humans hiding behind his back.

"What the fuck is going on? What did you do you me? Why? Where is Gabriel? What did you do to him?!"

Beezlebub was screeching now. Crowley bowed lower with each of their words and desperately wanted to flee even more.

"I'm sorry! I promise we'll let you go!" Bethany spoke up and stepped around Crowley, throwing the book on her bed.

"Stay away from them!" Crowely tried to grab her but she'd hopped out over the salt.

"Please, just listen! We need your help!" She begged Beezlebub.

Chapter Text

"You're going to regret this, Crowley! I'm going to tie you and your humans together by your toes and dangle you over the hottest flame in Hell!"

Beezlebub hadn’t even acknowledged Bethany speaking to them, choosing to blame their previous employee instead.

"Earth made you stupid and now you're cocky enough to think you stand a chance against me?"

"Whatever. You're dead on sight down there! And these are not MY humans!" Crowley argued back.

"I'm trapped too, see?" He shouted and spun in a circle, motioning to the salt all over the floor.

Atticus and Miles were gripping his arms and staying behind him as he turned. Their hold on him was painful, they were so scared.

"Get off me!" Crowley growled and yanked away.

"Cursed salt?" Beezlebub squinted at Crowley’s trap.

"You fucking moron! These are mortals! Puny ones at that!"

"Yeah. And your point is?" Crowley already knew what was coming, but he stood with his hands on his hips and tried to look confident.

"My point is that you're pathetic!" Beezlebub lashed out.

"You let them capture you with SALT! HOW?! YOU'RE A DEMON!"

Crowley winced at their screeching and accepted how embarrassing his situation was.

It was one thing to be captured by a seasoned witch, like Sheila. But these were college students...

"Yeah, well, look who's talking." He weakly replied.

"Excuse me?" Beezlebub's voice came from that deep place, as they slowly walked to the edge of their circle.

Crowley didn’t back down.

"You were a Prince! What have you been doing that lowered your guard this much?"

"None of your business!" Beezlebub clutched the overlarge shirt they were wearing and their cheeks flushed darkly.

They turned to Bethany, who felt weighed down by how heavy their voice was.

"Release me, idiot, and maybe my other half won't kill you."

"I can't. We need your help." Bethany softly insisted.

"Back off." Crowley growled.

Atticus meekly stepped away from him, to stand between Bethany and Beezlebub.

"Or what? You sniveling, treacherous...!" Beezlebub's voice got deeper with each word.

Crowley jabbed his finger at Bethany.

"That one is a baby witch! She's never even summoned a trash demon but she yanked you from wherever the fuck you've been! Who's really the idiot here?"

"You!" Beezlebub's eyes were completely black as they screamed.

"And treacherous? Me?" Crowley went on.

"You ran away! Both of you got out and didn’t even try to make up for all the pain you caused everyone, for thousands of years!"

Bethany nodded behind him, relieved to hear Crowley actually agreed with her.

"Oh, fuck off! Gabriel will find me, any minute now, and end you! Slowly!"

"That's great! I'd like to speak with him too!" Bethany assured them.

"Where is he? Is it quite far?"

Crowley was beyond curious about this as well and motioned for Beezlebub to answer.

"Far." Beezlebub seethed.

"But never too far from me. I can still feel him..." they touched their chest, where their heart may or may not have been.

"Awwww!" Bethany couldn't help herself. Demons falling for angels was apparenty like cat nip for her.

"Shut up!" Beezlebub roared.

"Ok! Sorry!" Bethany stepped back with a squeak.

There was a long moment of silence, filled only with glares and nervous fidgeting

"Soooo....a Prince of Hell, huh?" Miles awkwardly broke the silence.

Beezlebub's neck audibly snapped to look at him. Miles put on a brave face, picked up his sign and showed it to them.

"There must be something decent in there, if an angel fell for you." He motioned at Beezlebub, who was mouthing the words painted on the cardboard.

They looked up at him with a hateful smirk.

"Gabriel isn't a typical angel."

"Psssh, define typical!" Crowley ordered.

"He's a better angel than that teddy bear you follow everywhere!" Beezlebub snipped.

"Where is Aziraphale, anyway? Unfortunately, Gabriel would rather spare him, if he decides to decimate this pathetic excuse for a building!"

"He's busy." Was Crowley’s only explanation.

"Hey! Can Gabriel read?" Atticus asked Beezlebub the same question and waved his own sign.

Before Beezlebub could yell at them, a hot, metallic smell filled the room. The scent of electricity was back and stronger than when Crowley was raging.

Crowley saw Beezlebub sigh with relief and look expectingly upwards. He followed their gaze and seized up with fear.

What looked like sparks of purple lightning were running across the ceiling, which caused the white paint to darken and burn.

Gabriel was here

"Fuck! Give me that!" Crowley ordered Atticus and reached for the sign.

Atticus handed it over as he looked up as well.

"Oh, shit!" He screamed and roughly grabbed Bethany.

"Ow! Atticus, what are you...?"

He didn't let her finish her sentence and squeezed her tightly in his arms, before picking her up and hiding behind Crowley again. Miles followed and the mortals hugged one another, so sure they were about to die.

"I love you, Beth!" Atticus spoke too loudly next to her ear.

"I've loved you for years and I....I want to buy you a house and a dog!"

"What?" Bethany couldn't see his face, he was holding her too close to himself.

"A dog?" Miles was pissed. Not only was was he about to die, but he'd die full of second hand embarrassment.

"Darling!" Beezlebub's voice was warm and soft now, as the burning spot grew on the ceiling.

"I hate all of you!" Crowley yelled and did his best to hide the mortals with his back.

He could only hide behind the sign himself and squeeze his eyes shut, as the ex Archangel burst into Bethany's bedroom.

Chapter Text

"Buzzy! Oh, Buzzy what happened?"

After a deafening crash from above, the mortals heard a male voice. It was speaking with an accent they'd only heard on television.

"Don't call me that!" They also heard how embarrassed Beezlebub was.

"Buzzy?" Crowley and Miles shared a terrified look.

"Right, sorry! I couldn't find you and I panicked, which made it even more difficult to find you..."

Crowley risked a peek over the sign and took in the scene before him.

Gabriel was certainly here. As tall and wide as Crowley remembered.

The angel easily stepped into Bethany's summoning circle and scooped Beezlebub up in his arms, before whipping around to escape out the window.

He froze, when he saw his name in large blue letters.

"Please don’t smite us...Gabriel? Who...?"

Gabriel's gaze scanned up, to the top of the sign. He saw a shock of familiar red hair and yellow eyes.

"Crowley?"

Crowley ducked back down as Beezlebub started loudly pouting.

"He let his pet summon me! What are you going to do about it?"

"Do? Summon...what are you talking about?" Gabriel jostled the demon his arms, as he looked down at the red at his feet.

Realization spread over his face, when he recognized that circle for what it was.

"Oh. Ooooh..." The angel's voice darkened, as he turned back to Crowley.

"Come out here. Now."

"Hi." Crowley flatly greeted Gabriel and let his arms drop.

The anti smiting sign fell along with them, revealing the demon and his mortals.

Crowley managed to put on a brave face, but his hands were shaking and he wasn't used to hiding fear without his sunglasses on. He could feel Bethany’s nails in his calf and felt sick.

"Ok, this was all my idea. Just...just let the humans go and do whatever you're going to do. You'd make it quick, if you're any kind of angel..."

"I'm not going to smite you, moron." Gabriel scoffed.

"Aw, why not?" Beezlebub stuck out their lower lip and looked put out.

"Shush!" Gabriel angrily chastised them.

"What the fuck is going on, Crowley? Where is Azirphale? What...why are you always surrounded by humans?"

"Wow...heeeey." Miles was the first to peek around Crowley. His eyebrows shot up his forehead, when he saw Gabriel.

"You're tall." He notified him, as he took in the angel's appearance.

"And you're short." Gabriel replied as he set Beezlebub down.

This made Bethany brave enough to look too.

"Hi." Her eyes were wide and slowly scanning up the handsome not a man that had materialized in her room.

"Tall." She whispered.

Atticus caught her tone and had a look too.

"Oh God, fucking, damn it!" He kicked the sign Crowley had dropped and stomped out of the salt circle.

......

"That's the one that summoned me! Against my will! You're really not going to do anything?" Beezlebub was pointing at Bethany and glaring at their partner .

Crowley put his arm up to block Beth, but he wasn’t as scared as he'd been before.

Gabriel wasn't acting like the old Gabriel. If he'd reverted to his previous ways, even a little, they'd all be dead.

Or they'd be sentient pillars of salt who wished they were dead...

"I'm sorry she summoned "Buzzy", but it was for a good reason." He insisted .

"A stupid reason. Because she's stupid and I told her not to but it was for a good reason also..."

"What reason?" Gabriel threw his hands up and looked beyond frustrated.

"We were napping on the moon and, suddenly, Buzzy is screaming and disappeared and I couldn't find them..."

"Smite them!" Beezlebub shook his arm.

"At least the blond one!"

"Please don’t." Bethany begged Gabriel with her eyes.

""Crowley, why are you just standing there? Explain yourself!' Gabriel raised his voice and Beezlebub grinned evily.

"We trapped him in salt." Miles casually explained and stepped forward.

"I dig your accent, by the way. You sound like an American movie star...like Elvis? No..."

"Jesus Christ." Atticus grumbled.

'What about Him?" Gabriel and Beezlebub asked at the same time.

Crowley had given up and let his face fall in his hands. He just stood there, defeated and exhausted.

. "We'll explain everything, but for the love of Someone, do you people own a vacuum?"

Chapter Text

"Do you need help?" Gabriel leaned over and whispered to Crowley.

The two of them and Beezlebub were sitting at the young mortals' kitchen table.

Bethany was in the next room, corraling the rest of her roommates into their rooms.

They'd just arrived, to see a new angel and demon in their apartment, and were understandably nosy.

"You need to be more specific." Crowley replied and laid his head on the table.

"Well...are they keeping you here?" Gabriel asked him. He looked over his shoulder, at the human boys that were fighting get a peek at them.

"Where did they get cursed salt? How did they trap you and steal Buzzy?"

"Woah! We need that one in rugby!" Benjamin spoke loudly about Gabriel, as Bethany shoved him down the hallway.

Beezlebub snorted and grinned wickedly at Crowley.

"You wanted to be human so badly that you let a few adopt you. In exchange for what, hm? Do you fetch their newspaper for them?"

"Not much reading material on the moon, eh, Buzzzzzy? " Crowley didn’t miss a beat.

Beezlebub's eyes went completely black, once more, and their cheeks turned bloody red.

"We read the stars." Gabriel was the only one smiling as he took Beezlebub's hand.

"Buzz...er, Beezlebub knows a lot about constellations. They were just telling the most wonderful story about Orion..."

"Nope." Crowley’s head shot up and he jammed his fingers in his ears.

"If you're going to babble that mushy garbage, just leave. I don't want to hear it."

He was interrupted by the sound of a vacuum cleaner, in Beth's room. The three entities glared at one another, until the crunchy noise of all that salt, being sucked up, stopped.

"Speaking of mushy garbage, where is the other one? I thought you two were glued together." Beezlebub sneered.

"I don't know who or what you're talking about." Crowley lied and slid his glasses on.

"Aziraphale? Where is he?" Gabriel's chair creaked, as he leaned back to glance down the hall.

"Why aren’t you at his shop? Did you two get in a fight...so...er...you live with these humans now?"

"Aw, Crowley fumbled the bag!" Beezlebub snickered.

"What bag? Does Aziraphale have a special bag he trusted you with?" Gabriel was confused.

Crowley sniffed and crossed his arms, refusing to answer.

"Oook..." Gabriel shared a look with Beezlebub, before lightly slapping his knees and standing up.

"Welp...since I'm here, I suppose I should stop by and say hello, to Mr.Fell!. The last time we saw one another...I don't even think I said goodbye."

"Alright!" Beezlebub didn't hesitate to shove off from the table and stand as well.

"I'll take you to see your pal, but that's it! But only after you confiscate ANYTHING occult from these brats! If I end up in a circle again, I'll rip...burn..."

"Thank you." Gabriel smiled warmly at them and offered his hand. Beezlebub took it immediately.

"I hate you had to suffer this, but I'm sure Aziraphale will explain everything. This one has always been stubborn." Gabriel nodded at Crowley.

"You don’t think Aziraphale is stubborn?" Crowley snorted.

"Wait! Please wait!" They heard Bethany's steps as she rushed into the kitchen.

Her hands were up and she smiled uncomfortably at Beezlebub and Gabriel.

Gabriel smiled back, while Beezlebub hissed like a pissed off cat.

"Ah, c...can I offer anyone a drink or...um...what the hell are you doing?" Beth demanded of Crowley and smacked his arm.

"Don't just let them leave! Ask them!"

"Nope." Crowley shook his head.

"It's pointless. Let them go...."

"Ask us what?" Gabriel spoke kindly, while Beezlebub snarled at Bethany.

"I'm sorry I summoned you! I'm so sorry, but I'm desperate..." Beth wasn't afraid as she addressed Beezlebub, just rushed.

"We need your help! All of us!"

Beezlebub cackled, but Gabriel nodded, encouraging Beth to keep talking.

"Obviously, since you went through all this trouble...we'll hear you out."

"WHAT?!" Beezlebub spat and lightly slapped Gabriel's arm.

"She summoned me! ME! It hurt! She should be a greasy stain on the floor by now!"

"She knew that risk, and she still summoned you. YOU, of all demons. How desperate must they be, to risk being in your divine presence?" Gabriel took Beezlebub's hands and they immediately stopped being angry.

"You could turn this shack into a crater, with barely a thought in that beautiful mind..." Gabriel kept up the flattery, as he lightly pressed his lips to Beezlebub's knuckles.

Before Beezlebub could speak, past their blushing cheeks, they were interrupted by a wretched noise.

It sounded like a cat, loudly gagging on a hairball. They glared over at Crowely, who was smacking his lips and glaring back.

"Yes, I knew the risk." Bethany spoke up.

"If you kill me, then that's that, but the second coming will do that anyway, so...

"Oh yeah!" Gabriel stood straighter and addressed Crowley.

"Wow, that's going to be an issue, huh? I forgot..."

"You forgot?" Crowley snapped and threw his sunglasses on the table.

"Wasn't bringing it about the entire point of your existence, since...always?"

"I guess they'll still be going forward with all that bullshit." Gabriel ignored him and glanced up towards Heaven.

"Psychos. Ugh, I wonder who they replaced me with. Michael, I suppose...

He chuckled and nudged Beezlebub with his elbow, who giggled along with him.

"You remember Mike? I don't think we have much to worry about. They couldn't lead a horse to...uh...hay? That's what those eat, right? "

"Right. " Beezlebub nodded.

"Anyway, Michael at the helm means we'll have a few thousand years, at least, before anything happens...they're the opposite of competent. "

"They're incompetent." Beezlebub needlessly elaborated.

"No, not Michael. It's...it's Aziraphale. He's the new Supreme whatever..." Bethany softly interrupted them and glanced at Crowley.

His hard glare didn't falter, as he watched Gabriel burst out laughing. Beezlebub didn't join him this time.

"That's hilarious! Very funny! Mr.Fell...bringing on the apocalypse?" Gabriel was snickering and looking about, waiting for the joke to be confirmed.

When he saw only serious expressions, his smile fell.

"Wait, but...really? Why? I mean...that's not exactly his scene. I mean, it's really REALLY really not his scene...."

"No shit. " Crowley grumbled and slid his glasses back on.

Chapter Text

"I'm sure it will be a bit shocking. It always is,. But it's just me, as I actually am." Evangeline was talking to Aziraphale, in a large, colorfully decorated room.

Not only were their surroundings out of place, in the rest of Heaven’s whiteness, but Aziraphale felt exposed once more, in his corporal body.

After three days of radio silence, Evangaline had summoned him from his office, with the promise of a full explanation of all her secrets.

But only if Aziraphale risked sneaking back into his human form.

"This is how they're accustomed to seeing me. And your having a body will make them trust you even faster..."

"Who?" Aziraphale demanded, his eyes darting at the door behind her.

"Where is this place? And you don’t look any different...?"

"Patience." Evangeline shushed him.

"You have more friends up here than you realize. And...unfortunately, they'd never take this form seriously..." She pouted and motioned at her little girl body.

"I prefer a more gentle appearance. My experiences on Earth have taught me that I'm rather scary...I'd have never known, otherwise."

"What in God's...name...? Aziraphale trailed off as he quickly backed away from Evangeline.

Her expression was put out, when her small body started to grow upwards.

Within moments, she was tall. Taller than Crowley. As tall as the walls and almost too tall for the room.

Her body became stretched and androgynous. Her black, endless eyes were larger and settled deep into a thin, gaute face. She kept her ebony hair, but now it cascaded down in thick waves and floated about when she moved.

Her wings appeared next. The feathers were a dusty brown and much larger than Aziraphale's own. Evangeline had to lift then, to avoid letting them drag on the floor.

When she opened her mouth to speak, she seemed to have more teeth than before and they were sharp. Her voice wasn't just male or female, but deep and melodious at the same time.

"God wanted Her Watchers to be imposing, I assume. But why would She create something She wanted us to frighten?" Her apologetic shrug was so out of place, on her celestial form.

"That's a good question." Aziraphale whispered. His hands were shaking and he swallowed hard.

"I...I think you look lovely. Not scary, just...uh...well...maybe a bit scary, but people can be more than one thing..."

"You're too kind, but I'm meant to be scary." Evangeline stood at her full height and looked down her nose at him.

Her eyes were so huge now, Aziraphale was certain he was viewing different parts of space through them, every time she moved. A sun was flaming on the edge of her right eye, throwing shadows across that side of her face.

"Have you seen what I actually look like?" Aziraphale got comfortable much faster than Eva expected.

"I have more eyes than anyone would ever need. At least you get to have legs..."

He was interrupted by what sounded like a shouting match, just inside the door that Evangeline was blocking.

Eva groaned and raked her long, sharp fingers through her hair.

"Call me Evangeline in front of them, if you wouldn't mind."

She sighed and turned to open the door behind her. She was so tall, that her body seemed to bend in three places, in order to reach the knob.

"I'm glad you're comfortable around demons.:

........

"What in the Nine Hells am I getting myself into? How are they even up here?"

Aziraphale was sat at the head of a long table. Two new beings sat along this table as well.

They were staring at him...and hopefully couldn't read his mind.

"This is who you've been raving about?" The male presenting demon snarled at Evangeline.

He leaned over the table, towards Aziraphale, and let his red eyes scan all over him. Aziraphale managed not to react to his large, sharp appearance.

"His head looks like candy floss."

"I beg your pardon?" Aziraphale huffed, pat his curls and looked to Evangeline, hoping she'd correct her associate.

Evangeline didn't react. She was stone still, standing at the other end of the table. Watching.

In her true form, Evangaline reminded Aziraphale of a predatory bird. It was most unnerving, to be under her gaze now.

"I like candy floss." The second demon purred

This one had an American accent and her female appearance was obviously the first thing she wanted you to notice, despite her modest clothing choices.

Her hair was red, like Crowley’s, but so dark it reminded Aziraphale of a pool of blood. Her lips were a soft pink , that still managed to stand out against her pale skin.

The beautiful demon pushed back her chair and stood, approaching Aziraphale with a floating grace and her hand extended.

"You'll have to excuse, Bremer. He's still caught up in what's expected of demons, but he's learning."

Aziraphale lightly took her fingers with his own and shook her hand. The demon lightly gripped him in return, as a warm smile stretched across her face.

"My name is Naamah, but on Earth everyone calls me Mary."

She smirked at this tiny blaspheme, as Aziraphale' corporal form started feeling the effects of having her this close

Whatever perfume she wore was magnetic. Somehow, it smelled exactly like old books and coffee.

It also contained notes of good music and feeling the sun on your face, after a heavy rain. Those things didn't smell like anything, and yet, there they were.

"You're Aziraphale...The Book Dragon. Aw, Eva spoke so highly of you but she failed to mention how cute you are." Naamah's voice was like silk.

"I beg your pardon?" Aziraphale demanded again and yanked his hand back.

"A Book...what?" His anger was short lived, when the demon leaned closer to him and he realized what she was doing.

Succubuses were a type of demon, that were given free reign to travel the Earth. Crowley had mentioned them, in passing.

This demon was clearly one of those. Aziraphale could feel her pulling him in with the power she'd been granted, to lead mortal men and women astray.

.

Her hand on his knee and a coy smile on her lovely face.

After those three days of mortal bliss, with his demon, Aziraphale understood exactly what she was trying to do

However, even with a human body, the effects of Naamah's seduction were diluted, when they hit the brick wall that was Aziraphale.

"Madam, I find it incredibly disrespectful that you'd even attempt that." Aziraphale swatted her hand away and sat back in his chair.

"I am the Supreme Archangel and you're in my domain." He adjusted his bow tie and gave her an annoyed look.

"And not only are you barking up the wrong tree, but I'm afraid you've found yourself in the wrong forest."

"I knew it. Pansy." Bremer snorted.

He shrank down, when Evangaline's neck snapped in his direction. Her glare was horrifying, but the other two missed it.

Naamah had thrown her head back, with a laugh that felt like hot chocolate on a cold day. Clearly, everything about her was created to draw in whoever she was talking to.

How did mortal men stand a chance? It didn't seem fair.

"Now, what in the Hells did you just call me? A dragon?" Aziraphale demanded.

"The Book Dragon." Naamah giggled.

"You sit in your shop of human books, and you don't let anyone touch them. Like a dragon, atop it's pile of treasure."

Naamah didn't seem to be making fun of him. In fact, the excitement on her face was making Aziraphale even more nervous.

What did these demon's expect of him? What had Evangaline told them?"

"I read about them in quite a few mortal stories. You're a good dragon, though." Naamah's tone turned serious, as she leaned on the table next to Aziraphale.

"Truly good. Protective...and sweet. If everything Evangaline says is true, you're exactly who we've been waiting for."

Aziraphale considered the dragon comparison and decided it wasn't inaccurate. There were worse nicknames...in fact, he'd had much worse.

"Who is "we"?"

Chapter Text

"How many of you are there?" Aziraphale’s suspicions had turned to desperate hope, as he learned about the demons at the table.

"More than enough." Bremer angrily replied, as if Aziraphale would doubt his answer.

"Not nearly enough." Naamah corrected him, which caused Bremer to shove his chair back and stomp away from the table, cursing under his breath.

"The majority, of our respective legions, are against the apocalypse. That's tens of thousands of demons." Naamah ignored her companion and addressed Aziraphale.

"But without Heaven’s help, our numbers don't matter. "

"Without my help." Aziraphale softly added.

Naamah nodded and pat his hand. To Aziraphale, her skin felt like coming home, after a long, lonely journey.

Aziraphale felt himself wanting to sink into it, especially after losing Earth and Crowley all over again.

Bethany was right. Being forced to feel things was awful.

"No pressure, though. I understand this is a lot to take in..." Naamah was still touching him and explaining.

"Um, l'm sorry, but If you'd be so kind as to turn...whatever it is that you're doing, off, I'd most appreciate it." Aziraphale interrupted and wiped his hand on his vest.

"It's a tad distracting."

" Oops. Sorry." Naamah sat back and smirked, not the least bit embarrassed.

"It's always on, I'm afraid. This is just how I am. I'm..."

"A succubus.Yes, I'd gathered that." Aziraphale sighed and collected himself.

"If you can't help it, you can't help it. But, for the sake of this conversation..."

"Hands to myself." Naamah wasn't insulted. She even moved down a chair, to put more distance between them.

"It does make it difficult for anyone to trust me. If it weren't for Evangeline, no one would ever believe a word I say."

"That seems to be the norm for demons." Aziraphale spoke kindly, as he smoothed his vest down and shook off the rest of Naamah's enchantment.

"I've learned how unfair it is. Just lumping you all together like that..."

Aziraphale missed Naamah and Bremer's shared looked. She seemed touched, while he looked even more suspicious.

"What would you know about it, angel?" Bremer growled.

"You're the ones doing all the lumping. Especially you, Supreme Archasshole..."

"Bremer!" Naamah snapped.

"What? You don't get that title by breaking the rules!" Bremer went on.

"He probably wrote the damn rules and he's going to rat us out the second we let him walk out of here!"

"That is a fair conclusion to come to." Aziraphale validated Bremer's concerns.

The demon looked even more distrusting.

"You'll just have to believe me when I tell you I've broken all the rules. Over and over and...over."

Aziraphale stood and tried his best to look like a leader, but only managed to look like a determined librarian.

"The sooner you believe that, the sooner we can get started."

"With what?" Bremer snorted and plopped back in his seat.

"Averting the apocalypse, obviously. We agree, Heaven’s plans are ludicrous, so ludicrous steps must be taken..."

"As ludicrous as trusting an angel that looks like a he'd snitch on a single mother, for stealing a loaf of bread?"

"Oh, I'd never!" Aziraphale gasped.

"I'd buy her the bread myself. No need to steal anything..."

"Bremer. " Evangeline finally spoke up from the other end the table.

Aziraphale watched Bremer's face go paper white, at the sound of his name in that scary voice. He couldn’t even look, as Evangeline continued to address him.

"I've proven myself to you, countless times. To trust me is to trust Aziraphale. Consider him an extension of myself, and your only hope..."

"Oh my, let's not put it that way..." Aziraphale made a slicing at his throat and laughed nervously.

"It's true though." Naamah softly replied.

"Most angels think Earth was created to be destroyed. But you love it, just like us. Evangeline told us everything..."

"You love it too?" Aziraphale was only briefly surprised.

"Well, from what Crowley has said about Hell, I can't see how anyone wouldn't prefer what mortals have..."

"Crowley?" Naamah and Bremer shared another look. Aziraphale watched the doubt slide off Bremer's face, and be replaced with a smile.

Naamah's grin was even larger, as she scooted back in the seat next to Aziraphale.

"I knew you smelled familiar. "

......

"What the hell happened in here?" Gabriel was mortified over the state of Aziraphale’s bookshop.

"Oh, no. Oh, he'll hate this...." He started gathering up the books that had fallen from one of the larger, now splintered, shelves.

Gabriel examined the books for any signs of damage, before stacking them on a couch.

"Did someone attack him again? Did they force him Upstairs?"

Gabriel was so worried about his friend/previous host, that he missed Crowley’s lack of concern.

"No. No one attacked anybody."

Crowley tried to appear nonchalant, as he risked a small miracle. The worst of the scratches , he'd dug into the walls, disappeared.

But not before Gabriel saw them.

"Are you sure he wasn't fighting a giant badger?"

"Where would Aziraphale even meet a badger?" Crowley grumbled and sat next to the pile of books.

"He had odd hobbies." Gabriel had grabbed a broom and started sweeping.

"I can't believe he went back up there. What is he thinking? He loves this little planet.."

Gabriel seemed more upset over his kind friend leading the apocalypse, than the apocalypse happening.

"They must have lied to him or...or...."

"He's going to try and stop it again." Crowley finally explained and propped his feet on the coffee table.

He was so tired that he'd lost his sarcastic tone and just laid everything out.

"The humans want to help, even though they can't. Bethany summoned Beezlebub, to lure you here, so they can ask you two to help as well..."

"Ah...." Gabriel was already deep in thought. He leaned on the broom as he absorbed Crowley’s words.

"Buzzy won't like that, but I don't see how we have any other choice..."

"Psh, the only choice any of us have is to die." Crowley interrupted. "You two may last a bit longer. Just travel to edge of everything and wait for them to come for you..."

"We're not leaving." Gabriel scoffed and set the broom against the bookshelf.

Crowley looked surprised as he watched the ex Archangel look about the shop, as he considered things.

"You said the humans want to help? Why don't we let them?

"What could they do against even one of our lot? Let alone all of Heaven and Hell?" Crowley demanded.

"Hell, what can you or I do? Or Buzz...?"

"That's what we have to figure out." Gabriel looked out the large window, to see Beezlebub waiting in the Bentley with the humans.

"Oh good. They're all still alive..."

He whipped around, to address Crowley once more, and pointed upstairs.

"Is the guest room still empty?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Crowley grouched.

"You can stay the night, because Aziraphale would let you., but..."

"This building still has enough protections on it, to be a decent base of operations..." Gabriel was moving chairs and muttering to himself.

"Heaven may spy but Hell still can't..."

"You're not seriously considering any of this?" Crowley gave a humorless chuckle and slumped down in the couch.

"Why wouldn't I?" Gabriel didn't look at Crowley, as he walked by and shoved his boots off Aziraphale’s coffee table.

"Hey!" Crowley snapped.

"Aziraphale saved me. It's only right if I return the favor." Gabriel went on.

He met Crowley’s disbelieving look with a sheepish grin.

"Besides, you're right. For over six thousand years, I helped make the plans they'll be using to end everything. "

He looked out the window once more and beckoned his partner inside, along with the humans.

"I helped make the plans...so, I know how to unmake them. How to try, anyway."

Chapter Text

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