Work Text:
"Hello, hello, hello!"
Crowley, who had been reading the paper in the quiet of the bookshop, was startled when Muriel came through the door.
He heard the angel's quick footsteps and lowered his newspaper just as she reached him.
He smiled slightly, for sometimes he felt he was looking at a clone of Aziraphale. Muriel still wore very light clothes and always had one or the other tartan accessory. The difference was that they used several tartans, and their outfits were far less outdated than Aziraphale's.
"I took the bus today!"
Muriel's eyes were shining and they were all excited as they continued, "I asked Aziraphale where I could find a bookshop that really sells books these days and he showed me several. He wanted me to ask you to take me, but I told him I wanted to go alone. He recommended the buses if I wanted to see a bit of the city at the same time. Which I did. By myself. And I even bought some books, look!"
Crowley had stood up as Muriel recounted their excursion and looked at the books, then said gently, "That's good, my little bee. You've done well. Come on, I'll make you some hot chocolate to celebrate!"
Muriel didn't answer right away and looked at him strangely.
"Muriel?"
They asked in troubled voice, "Why do you praise me every time I do something?"
Crowley leaned a little closer to them and said gently, "Because you deserve it. Because it's not easy adjusting to a new world like this."
Muriel shook their head, "You and Aziraphale did just fine."
Crowley replied, "Because we've had much longer to adapt, we've had millennia. You came here, unprepared, and found yourself with this flood of information that could destabilize anyone, and you're embracing it with both hands. That deserves all the praise in the world. Besides, I'm guessing you didn't get much praise up there."
Muriel replied softly, in the most natural way, "But that's normal, I'm no one".
Crowley grabbed them by the shoulders and, gently shaking them, said in a firm tone, "Never again do I want to hear those words come out of your mouth! You're not no-one. You're someone important to us here."
Muriel insisted, "But no one ever disagreed with me when I said that. Never."
"Your beatitudes?"
Muriel stood back, intimidated, while Saraqael moved toward the two archangels, who answered in unison, "Yes.
"I think you should hear this. Muriel!"
Muriel exclaimed, "Oh." She bowed and greeted them, keeping well away from where the angels were standing, "Hello."
Michael asked, "And you are?"
Muriel shook their head and stammered, "Oh, no one. I mean, technically, Muriel, 37th order scrivener, but, you know, no one."
No one had disagreed with them.
Not a word.
They really were no one.
Muriel realized how differently the people here behaved toward them than the archangels and other higher angels had.
"Muriel!"
Crowley's voice snapped them out of their thoughts.
It wasn't Michael's voice, exasperated, making them feel like fools. Or Uriel's dismissive one, making them feel very small.
Crowley's voice was warm as he told them, "It's because they're blind and have nothing but contempt for anything that isn't a source of power. But that doesn't make you no-one. Muriel, look at me. You are someone."
Muriel tried to say something, but there was a lump in their throat that prevented them from speaking.
They swallowed several times and managed to say, "I... I'm som... someone."
Their vision seemed to blur and they blinked several times, but nothing helped.
Crowley, who had moved closer to them, put his hand on their shoulder and said softly, in a voice as kind as ever, "Oh, Muriel..."
Muriel breathed, "What...what do I do?"
Crowley replied gently, "Let them flow..."
Muriel sniffed, "I... I don't know how to..."
Crowley answered softly, "Just let go. Let go my little bee, I'll catch you."
Muriel sniffed bravely several times, trying to stop the tidal wave they felt rising inside of them and threatening to come out as Crowley, his hand reassuringly on their shoulder, repeated softly, "Let go."
Muriel repeated again, "I am someone..."
Crowley nodded and replied, "Yes, you are. You are someone."
Then he wrapped his arm around their shoulders and pressed them to his chest as the floodgates finally gave way and they allowed themselves to be overwhelmed by the pain they felt, the full extent of which they were finally realizing.
All these years of being ignored.
Isolated at their desk.
Seeing almost no one.
Performing unrewarding tasks.
Being belittled, sometimes even disdained.
Treated like a fool.
They cried about all of it, and Crowley held them in his arms the whole time, and as their tears soaked his black jacket, he thought of another angel who'd endured similar treatment and never complained either.
"I... I think it's okay."
Muriel moved a little and Crowley opened his arms to let them go. But when he saw their unsettled face, he put his hands on their shoulders and said softly, "How about we just sit down for a while?"
Muriel wiped their face with their sleeve and nodded, allowing themself to be guided to the sofa where they sat down.
As soon as they were seated, the doorbell rang and Aziraphale's voice was heard, "Hello! Someone's here?"
Crowley answered, "We're here, on the sofa."
He saw Muriel trying to hide their condition, but he gently took their hand and shook his head.
Aziraphale had arrived in front of them and exclaimed, "Oh my God! What's the matter? Muriel, has someone hurt you?"
Crowley couldn't suppress an amused smile as the angel fussed over Muriel before kneeling before them and handing them his handkerchief.
They took it and wiped their face.
Aziraphale turned to Crowley and asked worriedly, "What happened?"
Crowley asked Muriel, "Will you allow me to explain it to him? I think he'll understand better than anyone."
Muriel nodded.
Crowley briefly explained the reasons for Muriel's condition, and when he was finished, he stood up, Aziraphale immediately taking his place next to Muriel. Crowley stepped back a little to leave them alone, knowing that Aziraphale would be able to give them an even better understanding than he had.
The angel placed his hands on Muriel's as they fumbled with the handkerchief and said softly, "Muriel, let me repeat Crowley's words to you first. You are someone. You are an angel who has bravely, day after day, dutifully done your job and received nothing in return but contempt and disregard. But because you only knew this kind of treatment, you thought it was normal. Believe me, I know, I know very well."
Muriel lifted their head sharply and retorted, "You? But you're so good, and talented, and smart, and-"
"And? And so are you, Muriel, as much as I am. And that didn't stop Gabriel, Michael, Uriel and Sandalphon from putting me down all the time. From making me realize that I'd never be anything but a drudge. An idiot who didn't understand anything. I have hundreds of examples to tell you about the way they treated me that I never thought to rebel against because I said to myself, they're the good guys, they're archangels, they're better than me, so it's normal what they do. But it's not normal, Muriel. It's mean and hurtful and unnecessary. But here, Muriel, Crowley and I would never treat you this way, and better yet, if anyone ever did, you have every right to rebel. To fight back or to turn away. But under no circumstances should you accept this. You are someone, and I'm glad to see that someone thriving in this world. I can't wait to see you experimenting with many new things, getting more and more confident, getting more and more brazen with Crowley..."
"Angel!" the demon exclaimed, turning to them as Muriel let out a small laugh.
Then Muriel looked at them in turn and said softly, their voice a little hoarse, "Thank you both. I couldn't have fallen into a better place for my first and last mission on Earth."
Aziraphale replied, "I'm glad you knocked on my door, Inspector Constable, and that I offered you your first cupperty."
Muriel chuckled again, and Crowley asked, "So do you want that mug of hot chocolate?"
But the angel shook their head and stood up, "No, I promised to tell Nina and Maggie about my first trip to the city, and Nina's hot chocolate is better than yours."
Crowley exclaimed, "Hey, you're getting pretty cheeky."
Muriel smiled and started for the front door when they turned and walked toward Crowley, hugging him for a few seconds before almost running away.
Crowley turned to Aziraphale to comment on what had just happened when he saw that the angel had gotten up and was following Muriel with his eyes until they entered the cafe.
He walked over to him and wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder, then asked softly, "Are you okay, Angel?"
Aziraphale leaned against him and replied, "A while back I would have said yes, I'm okay and hidden it behind a smile, but we don't lie to each other anymore, so, no, I'm not completely okay. In fact, I'm appalled at the extent of my ex-employer's damage, if I may say so. Muriel thought it was okay to think of themself as a nobody."
Crowley hummed against his ear and said quietly, "I know, Angel."
"Crowley?"
"Yes?"
"Will you hold me?"
Crowley replied softly, "Of course, Angel. You're looking at Crowley, the demon comforter of angels mistreated by heaven."
Aziraphale turned and laughed lightly, before saying, "Idiot."
Then Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel, holding him close as the angel's arms wrapped around his waist.
Aziraphale murmured against his chest, "Thank you."
"For what?" the demon asked against his hair.
"For encouraging me through the years. Thanks to you, I never felt like no one. Even when I thought we were each on our own side, you never offered me anything but respect."
Crowley pressed a kiss to the angel's hair and replied gently, "Because you deserved no less. And then this pure angel giving a couple such a powerful weapon to defend themselves in the desert forced my respect from the start. You have never been no one to me, Angel."
He pushed Aziraphale away from him a little, then cupped his face in his hands and kissed him tenderly before pulling him back into his arms.
Over the angel's head, through the glass window, he saw Muriel sitting in front of a mug that was probably filled with hot chocolate topped with an indecent amount of whipped cream. Nina and Maggie were sitting with them, and the three of them seemed to be happily chatting.
He smiled, glad that this angel and the one he held in his arms would never again feel that they didn't matter.
For they were loved and cherished for who they were.
As they always should have been.