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Crowley watches as the sky darkens to red and a hurricane of dark clouds form. It fills him with a sense of fear and dread he thought he buried deep long ago. But here it is, resurfacing, and no way to stop it. He knows what’s going to happen next. No way to stop it.
Electricity crackles through the air, and the simple humans notice nothing as they rush to get under anything, thinking it’s just a bad rainstorm approaching. Crowley knows better. He’s standing out in the middle of the street in front of the bookstore and for the first time, a tear escapes his eyes as the first clash of thunder begins. Lightning flashes in the sky, the wind picks up, and the tiniest comet of black smoke falls in the sky.
Then, Crowley hears the screaming.
He sees Aziraphale- he knows it's him oh poor angel- screeching in despair as his wings burn and bleed and turn to black ash. Crowley can feel it too. He knows the others pain. He continues to cry, watching the newly fallen angel travel farther, farther, farther, until he crashes directly in front of the demon.
A cruel joke from cruel angels.
Aziraphale is crying. He’s crying so intensely that he’s just yelling any sort of noises of pain. He’s confused. Hurt. Betrayed. Shaking. Crowley knows.
Crowley doesn’t know what to do as Aziraphale looks up at him, his eyes searching for answers. But his eyes are not the same. They’re replaced with dark brown eyes with the pupils of a goat. Surprisingly, his hair is still the same, but his clothes that he took so much time to take care of, are burnt and torn in shreds.
Aziraphale gasped suddenly and now seems to be able to form words. “Please don’t-I don’t-oh Go-”
His voice catches and cries out in pain from trying to form out That word. Crowley watches his face shift from confusion, to realization, and then to a greater level of fear.
“I’ve fallen.”
Crowley does the only thing he can think of now, the one thing he wished he had when he first fell, and rushes over to hold the other. Holds him close, holds him tight, holds him with enough intent that tells him I won’t let go.
“I’m so sorry,” Crowley manages to say, “If I’d had known that this was the outcome, I would’ve never asked you to stop it all. I’m so-I’m sorry.”
Crowley feels the ground rumble below them, but he doesn’t look. He doesn’t let go. Hands grab onto his shoulders, shouts are being yelled in his direction. But he doesn’t care. He cries as he tries to reach for Aziraphale, to pull him back, but the newly fallen is still so overwhelmed by everything he is left in a state of shock.
The old demon knows that he’s being carried away to die. But he doesn’t care. All he cares about is Aziraphale the only person whos cared about him throughout the years the only one who loved all things the only thing he loved he can’t let that go he can’t-
Then he’s hit on the side of the head. Something hard, something deadly. It turns the world around him black and for once, he prays. Wishes. Hopes.
But nothing comes.