Where We Belong

by DTora

Summary:

Once his foot landed on the pavement of the sidewalk, he looked around and breathed it all in. Something inside himself settled at the familiar sights of Soho and quickly lifted his mood. He took a step and began walking towards his bookshop, and before he knew it, he was standing right in front of the double doors. The bell above the door announced his arrival and made him smile. His smile broadened when he saw everything looked exactly as he left it; it didn't even look like anything was sold. He stepped further in and just took in the whole place, breathing in the comforting smell of books, dust, leather, and glue. This place was home away from home; he could almost cry. He could have if the bell above the doors behind him didn't announce another presence. He whipped around to see a dark, lanky figure standing frozen in front of the doors that closed behind him. His red hair long and quiffed hung in loose curls on one side of his face, had sharp cheekbones, and wore round dark sunglasses. Aziraphale found himself wondering what the beautiful stranger's eyes looked like. Something then began to tickle the back of his mind. He didn't get long to examine it when the man's voice croaked, "You're back..."

"Pardon?"

Notes:

Heylo and vvelcome to my version of the Second Coming/ what happens after it doesn't happen- thing. I decided to start posting what I have done instead of waiting til it was complete or near-complete like I normally do since this will be the longest story I write here yet. So, I hope you enjoy this little beginning!

Chapter 1: Missing Memories

Somewhere deep in the South Downs stood a large old cottage. The cottage stood alone near an open field with the edge of a cliff on the other side, miles away from the closest village. Its white paint was now a light gray from age. Wild vines climbed up the corners of the centuries-old building and wrapped around the railing of both the front porch and back patio. Inside this cozy cottage lived a white-blonde man who lived alone and was content with his life. He didn't remember when he bought the cottage, but he must've with someone important in mind at one time. He loved all his old books and little trinkets and had a study full in fact, but there were areas he wouldn't even know what to do with. There was a conservatory that stood mostly empty aside from a couple of plants that were easy to care for and a large area to garden in behind the cottage. He wondered sometimes if he simply inherited the cottage instead of buying it. However, much like most of his memories, the answer to those questions was gone. His mind was devoid of almost all memories of his life. All he remembered were some of his (human) friends, his nephews Warlock and Adam, and his old bookshop in Soho.

He also remembered passing the mantle onto a young person named Muriel, but he didn't know why he would ever do such a thing, nor did he remember meeting anyone by that name. He loved that bookshop more than anything. An old home that had been passed down from generation to generation. And now it was gone. He still had things in the bookshop, but whenever he asked Newt and Adam for assistance, they offered to go retrieve his belongings instead. He was thankful for them most of the time, an odd feeling like icy fingernails trailing down from the base of his skull to the end of his spine stopped him from going himself. There was another reason he wasn't going back to the bookshop like something was warning him to stay away. So, for a while, he listened to that feeling and stayed in the South Downs. That is, until one week later.

 

"I just have to go back," he said with anxious urgency on the old rotary telephone. I remember having diaries up in my room, surely they could provide answers as to who I was before!" The woman sighed on the other end. Anathema and Aziraphale had been going around like this for 35 minutes now, and she was doing everything she could to dissuade him.

"Aziraphale, I understand you want answers, and if it means that much to you, let Adam and Newt go and get them for you. I'm sure they wouldn't mind." Aziraphale huffed and looked toward the door. It was his bedroom, a place where he kept everything important, even if he didn't remember all of what was inside. It was the one room he didn't like others entering; it felt almost like blasphemy for anyone else.

"I know, my dear girl, but I need to go myself this time. I can't avoid the bookshop forever. It was once my home, and I refuse to let anyone or anything keep me away from it." The line was quiet; the man could almost hear the wheels in Anathema's head turning in thought. He almost felt like he was asking permission to just go somewhere that wasn't the village, even though he knew his friends were just looking out for him since his "accident" as they called it.

 

When Aziraphale first woke up, he didn't wake up in a hospital like most would expect. He woke up in his bedroom in the cottage with Adam nearby. When Adam saw his eyes first opening, he bolted out of the room and shouted that the man was awake. Aziraphale heard other voices speaking down the hall and easily made out Anathema's, but he didn't recognize the other people. When Adam came back, a tall man with dark ginger curly hair, up in a ponytail, and wearing a white and silver suit entered the room. His hazel eyes, which seemed to keep changing the way the light from the window shone on them, landed on him and he smiled. He introduced himself as Dr. Raph, explaining that he was found on the side of the snow-covered dirt road with a nasty bump on the head (which explained why he had such a massive headache). "If it wasn't for your friends here, you could've been in serious danger." The more the doctor spoke, the more it almost sounded rehearsed, but Aziraphale was in too much pain to really focus on anything. He was given medication, and Dr. Raph along with Anathema left.

That was two and a half weeks ago now. "Alright, Aziraphale. Do you want me to ask Newt to stop by and get you? He'll be getting done with work in a few hours and could take you right after." Aziraphale declined,

"No thank you, I'll take the bus. I'll call you when I get back-"

"Call me when you get there," Anathema interrupted. Aziraphale nodded even though she couldn't see it. "Please be careful, Aziraphale. Oh, and make sure to take that charm I gave you with."

"I will, tootles." He hung up the phone and fiddled with the charm around his wrist. It was a seven knotted red bracelet, a gift Anathema made for him and reminded him constantly to wear when outside the cottage. Red wasn't his color, but he continued to wear it for both Anathema's and his own piece of mind. It was a charming little gift and he found himself comforted by it. Aziraphale drew in a deep breath and moved away from the phone, gathered his things, and briskly walked down to the village. The day wasn't too cold, and he didn't want to risk leaving his old bicycle. Adam got for him in public for too long, so he sat down and waited for the bus to arrive. It was just half past noon, and he figured he'd get there around 2 pm, 3 if he stopped at one of the many restaurants for a spot of lunch.

It truly had been a long time since he was last in Soho, that he could say for certain. He didn't know when he left, but it must've been at least months ago. For all he knew, it could've been a whole lifetime ago. Everything felt like a whole lifetime ago whenever he saw something that spoke to him, even in the cottage. When he boarded the bus, he sat down in a seat that almost felt familiar to him and looked out the window. He felt as if someone should be either behind him or next to him. A feeling he didn't get often, but one that was always filled with deep longing. He sighed, something just wasn't right. He hoped he'd find the answers once he got to the bookshop. He desperately wanted to know who he was before. A heavy feeling in his gut dropped whenever he felt that way, along with a load of questions: What if he doesn't like who he was before? What if who he was before wasn't a nice person and everyone hated him? What if— he quickly lowered his fingers that moved unconsciously to his lips. He did that sometimes too, just another piece of a blurry puzzle; he had no idea how many pieces were missing.

 

The bus came to a stop, and the doors opened sooner than he expected. Aziraphale quickly stood and rushed off the bus in both excitement for seeing his bookshop again and fear from his own thoughts. Once his foot landed on the pavement of the sidewalk, he looked around and breathed it all in. Something inside himself settled at the familiar sights of Soho and quickly lifted his mood. He took a step and began walking towards his bookshop, and before he knew it, he was standing right in front of the double doors. He didn't even give himself a chance to take in the scenery around him; his mind was set on one goal only, and that was upstairs. He drew in a deep breath, giving himself the courage to go inside and see what had all changed. How many books have been sold? Does the inside look completely different? How many customers come inside now?

The bell above the door announced his arrival and made him smile. His smile broadened when he saw everything looked exactly as he left it; it didn't even look like anything was sold. He stepped further in and just took in the whole place, breathing in the comforting smell of books, dust, leather, and glue. This place was home away from home; he could almost cry. He could have if the bell above the doors behind him didn't announce another presence. He whipped around to see a dark, lanky figure standing frozen in front of the doors that closed behind him. His red, quiffed hair hung in loose curls on one side of his face nearly touching his sharp cheekbones; he was a good few inches taller than Aziraphale was, wore modern dark clothes and round dark sunglasses. Aziraphale found himself wondering what the beautiful stranger's eyes looked like. Something then began to tickle the back of his mind. He didn't get long to examine it when the man's voice croaked, "You're back..."

"Pardon?" Aziraphale was confused; he didn't know who this man was, and yet the man seemed to know him. No, the man definitely knew who he was by the scowl that had taken over his face. Aziraphale could almost feel the anger rolling off of him.

 

"Six months, Azssiraphale. Sssix bloody months and now you show up here after that last blassted letter!?" As the man opened his mouth to continue yelling, Aziraphale put his hands up in the air in surrender; they were clearly shaking.

"I'm sorry-" The man laughed in disbelief,

"Sorry, he says. You leave for months, never once ssstopping by, ssscared the shit outta me and the first word that comes out of your mouth is 'pardon'?!"

"Sir, if you could just-" The man seemed to grow angrier by that first word, stalking closer to Aziraphale and now beginning to smoke!

"Oh, I'm just sir now? Too good to say my name after spending all that time up there?! Gonna pretend the last 6,000 bloody years didn't happen too?!"

"Please!" Aziraphale shouted in frustration and growing fear, his head suddenly fuzzy. He found himself backed into a bookshelf, the man's nose nearly brushing his own as he bared his teeth.

"Please what, oh Supreme Archangel?" He asked, Supreme Archangel coated in venom. A jolt of pain suddenly filled Aziraphale's head, replacing the fuzziness entirely like a spark coming from a live wire. He lowered it, holding his head in his hands.

"I don't know who you are!" He cried. The air around them suddenly became still, the atmosphere holding its breath, waiting for what happens next. The man took a small step back, his voice lowered into a near whisper,

"What?" Aziraphale looked up at the man, one hand still fervently pressed to the side of his head. He didn't know what triggered his headache to come on, but he needed to get some water to take his medication fast. He remembered what happened last time he didn't take it in time and didn't want to risk a nosebleed or worse here. Now with room to move, Aziraphale rounded the corner and headed straight to the kitchenette, the tall man following close behind. Aziraphale could feel the pain in his head worsening, and his vision began to blur by the second as he opened one of the cupboard doors and took out a clear glass. The glass slipped from his shaking hands but never hit the floor. The man behind him moved swiftly and caught it, looking at the blonde now with concern. Aziraphale breathed a thank you, taking the glass back and quickly filling it with water. He then fished his pills out of his pocket, took two green capsules from the bottle, and closed it up. He popped them into his mouth and downed the glass in a few seconds.

 

"What're those?" The man asked, gesturing to the pill bottle Aziraphale was putting away into his pocket.

"My medication" He wasn't sure how he felt about this man. Any positive thoughts he had vanished after the furious screaming he'd just received. The man leaned against the counter,

"Well, I can see that, but what are they for?" Aziraphale lifted his chin, his posture straightening by a hair with a hand still on the counter for support,

"Frankly, I'm finding it in my best interest not to tell you anything after that introduction you'd just given me." The man's posture stiffened. His jaw dropped open and closed, working its way through many soundless words before his voice found its way back to him,

"Introduc- Aziraphale" The man stood straight back up and took a step closer, which only made Aziraphale take an unsteady step back. His breath picked up, fear gripping his chest, waiting for what the man could possibly do next. However, what he did happen he didn't expect.

"You seriously don' remember who I am." The man sounded so small, and heartbroken Aziraphale found he couldn't stand it. This man didn't deserve to sound like that, no matter what happened before.

 

"I'm sorry, I wish I did." Aziraphale lowered his head slowly, not wanting to aggravate his head too much by the movement while he waited for the medication to kick in. He didn't know who this man was to him before, but something inside of him told him that he was trustworthy. So, he made a decision, "That's why I'm here, actually. I came looking for answers."

"Answers?"

"Yes, I-" The phone rang across the bookshop. The sudden noise abruptly made his head begin to pound. He brought his hands up to his ears to muffle the sound, but before he could move, the man grazed his fingers to his shoulder,

"Stay here, I'll get it." As he walked away, Aziraphale called out to the best of his ability without making things worse,

"If it's a woman named Anathema, please tell her I'm alright." He really hoped he could trust this man.

Aziraphale made his way to one of the wooden chairs and unceremoniously sat down, laying his head in his hands as he continued to wait for the headache to vanish. He could hear the man's harsh tone, but the words were too quiet for him to fully understand. Ten minutes later, the man came back and grabbed a kettle, "Tea?"

"Yes, please— if it's no trouble." The man just shrugged as he filled the kettle with water, turned the ancient dial on the stove, and set the kettle on. Aziraphale found himself surprised that this man seemed to move around the small kitchen as if he'd done so multiple times. He turned to Aziraphale, his arms and legs crossed with his head down. There was an awkward silence between the two. Aziraphale had questions for the ginger-haired man, but he couldn't think of which to ask first. As a matter of fact, thinking just hurt a little too much at that current moment.

 

"Crowley" Aziraphale looked toward the man again from the spot on the wooden table he was looking at. "M' name. 'S Crowley."

"Well, nice to meet you then, Crowley. I'd introduce myself, but you seem to thoroughly know who I am."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that earlier. Wouldn't have done it if I'd known about..." Crowley waved his hand in Aziraphale's direction to indicate the whole memory thing.

"It's not like you gave me much of a chance before jumping on me as it were. I must've done something terrible to warrant such a reaction."

 

"Something like that. It’s all a bit… complicated" Aziraphale looked back down at the table. That reaction was one of the reasons he feared getting his memories back. Whatever he did must've been truly unforgivable. The kettle didn't get a chance to fully whistle before Crowley yanked it off the stove and poured the steaming liquid into a white teacup with a golden band along the rim. Aziraphale could hear a few other sounds before he saw a cup of tea sliding into his view. He held it in his hands, letting the cup warm his palms. Crowley had plopped himself down in the chair across from him with his own cup and took a long sip. Aziraphale took his own to give himself something else to focus on other than the continued awkwardness in the small room. He blinked in surprise yet again, without any prompting. Crowley knew how he liked his tea, it was Lavender tea with just a small dash of milk and honey. Whoever Crowley was to Aziraphale, he knew they must've been very close. Once the cup reached the table, he finally had to ask when he remembered,

"Who was that on the phone?"

"Hm? Oh, Book girl- er, Anathema."

"Book girl?" Crowley waved his hand as his body became more lax in his chair.

"Long story. Told her you made it here and you were safe. She was quite worried about you." There was something underneath his questioning tone, but Aziraphale had to have been mistaken. Why would Crowley be upset with Anathema?

Aziraphale twirled the teacup around, watching the liquid inside it, "Yes, uh, I did agree to call her as soon as I arrived." Crowley winced,

"S'pose me popping in didn't help any, did it?"

"No"

 

"How come I haven' seen you around here? Imagine you've been back a little over a couple of weeks now, yeah?" Aziraphale looked up, his brows furrowing as he looked over Crowley.

"How did you know that?" The man across from him stiffened. His hand waving through the air as if he could find and catch the words,

"I received a heads up." Aziraphale guessed perhaps Anathema had told him, but if so, then why hasn't she told Aziraphale about him? Did she know Crowley was upset with him for some reason? From how this ginger reacted to seeing him, they mustn't have parted on good terms.

"I, uh," Aziraphale cleared his throat, trying to calm his nervousness. "Haven't been in Soho until today."

"Where've you been then?" Crowley looked at Aziraphale confused. The white-blonde shifted uncomfortable; Crowley's hidden gaze felt like it was watching him intently.

 

He wasn't entirely certain he could trust this man. Yes, he knew Anathema, knew his way around the bookshop, and knew how to make his tea just the way he liked it, but was that enough to trust him? He could be an ex-friend of sorts, a family member, or the reason he was like this. However, Crowley looked and acted so sincere. His instincts were screaming that he could trust him and his heart even more so. He also had some answers Aziraphale desired. He just had to trust him. It was also decided that if he had to, he could defend himself. However, before Aziraphale could finally answer the man's question, the bell announced yet another arrival, but the shout that came from the front was a welcome sound.

"Back here, dear boy!" Aziraphale called out. The teenager's footsteps quickened and grew louder as he approached. Adam had grown quite a bit since he was eleven years old, but his maturity had barely grown since they met four years ago under circumstances Aziraphale didn't remember.

"So, this was the reason I've been seeing you and Bookgirl's husband in town more lately?" Crowley gestured towards Aziraphale as soon as they saw the boy. Adam chewed on his bottom lip and looked towards Aziraphale before nodding. Aziraphale would know if Adam lied and would scold him later for it. Aziraphale, however, was still processing the fact that they knew each other as well.

"Been helpin' Uncle Az bring his things he wants back home."

"Home?" Crowley looked between the two; he looked even more lost than before. Aziraphale answered,

"Back to my cottage," Aziraphale watched as Crowley mouthed the word 'cottage' in question. Aziraphale didn't want to elaborate further just yet, just in case he was wrong and couldn't, actually, trust him. Instead, he turned back to the shaggy-haired boy and asked, "Is Newt outside?" Adam didn't answer right away. Simply looking between him and Crowley, "Adam?" His eyes fell to the floor,

"No," Aziraphale's heart jolted in panic.

 

"Why? How did you know I was here?"

"I tried calling you earlier. When you didn' ansa, I called Ana and she told me you were coming here."

"Is there anyone else here with you?" Crowley questioned, invested in the boy more than Aziraphale thought he'd be. He looked less concerned than Aziraphale felt but concerned nonetheless.

"Jus' Dog," At the sound of his name, said dog came running and sat down beside Adam's feet. "Everyone else was busy, so we came by ourselves." Like that was a perfectly justifiable thing to do.

 

"Adam," Crowley began in a way that said, 'I need you to understand what happens when you scare people who care about you.' "While I'm sure Aziraphale appreciates the care you show and enthusiasm, you can't just go on buses by yourself. You may be 15, but until you get your own car, you need permission or an adult with you at least. You understand?" Adam scruffed the wooden floor with the tip of his shoe, watching his foot swing back and forth in lazy motions.

"Yes, uncle," he mumbled. Crowley nodded satisfied by the answer, and then what Adam said clicked in the blonde's head. He turned back to Crowley,

"Uncle?" Crowley looked toward him, and his cheeks flushed.

"Well, yeah?" Something wasn't right here. Adam never spoke of Crowley before, nor did Anathema, yet Crowley knew both of them quite well just by this interaction alone.

"Adam," Aziraphale turned back to Adam. "Why have you never mentioned Crowley before?" Adam looked back between the two again; a secret lay behind those blue eyes.

"The doctor said you needed to focus on recovering." While this was true, Adam refused to answer the question. Aziraphale could feel his agitation growing due to the lack of answers. He stood from his chair abruptly, surprising both people, and tugged his waistcoat down to straighten it back out.

 

"While I appreciate the concern, Adam, I think you should go home. Crowley, since you know the dear boy very well, can I trust you to make sure he gets there?" He turned his back and walked out of the kitchenette, voices of protest following him to the spiral staircase.

"Now hold on a minute-"

"I'm not leaving without you!"

"You can't just push us out like this!" Aziraphale stopped and whipped around, glaring at the two a couple of steps down from him.

"Seeing as I'm not getting many answers from either of you and more questions than before, I'm going to grab what I came for and return home just as I originally planned. So, unless someone wants to start explaining things to me, then I am left with nothing more to say to either of you." Aziraphale never got so haughty with Adam, but he just felt so tired all of a sudden, and all he wanted was his bed to rest. The two looked at each other. Crowley took a step up and nodded,

"Okay, give us a minute, yeah?" Crowley quickly turned and laid an arm across the boy's shoulders, and they both walked down the metal stairs. Aziraphale breathed and rushed up the stairs quickly. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but he knew that his diaries would have some answers for him.

Chapter 2: More Questions than Answers

Summary:

Aziraphale has questions, Crowley takes him out to lunch, and words are spoken.

Notes:

I meant to post this earlier this week, but things happened. Keep an eye out for the next chapter!

 Crowley didn't know what to think. He was over talking to Nina when he saw the angel enter the bookshop and excused himself. He had to make sure it was really him after that last letter; it was so disturbing he didn't even bother to look to see what the feather held. When he entered the bookshop, he could see the surprise and the confusion only made his anger resurface and boil over. When he started, he couldn't stop himself. He probably wouldn't have if the angel didn't shout that he didn't know who he was and looked so in pain. That only scared Crowley more. Whatever happened after that letter was delivered must've been horrible. Crowley was afraid Aziraphale would end up like Gabriel when he arrived with no memories or worse, and he was right. Except, then Aziraphale proved to have kept some memories after all. He knew his name, the bookshop, Anathema and Adam even, but he didn't appear to remember anything else. What's worse, Anathema and Adam knew something. He cursed Anathema out over the phone for not saying anything to him when she knew he had been going out of his mind even though he said nothing. She could see his aura though, so she definitely knew something was bothering him. She simply said that she couldn't have said anything and wouldn't explain why. So, onto the next best person.

When they arrived towards the front of the bookshop, Crowley stopped and turned towards Adam. His hands rested on the boy's shoulders, not allowing him to get far, but kept his grip gently to not hurt the boy either. "Now Adam," His tone held warning, "You are going to answer my questions and not lie to me. Alright?"

"I'll answer what I can, but 'm not sure what's all goin' on."

"Why didn't you tell me where Aziraphale was?"

"You never asked," Smartass, "Plus, I thought you knew already since you can, y'know, feel each other's energies" Crowley's head bowed. He had him there. This damn boy and his bloody powers that were supposed to be gone.

"Alright, next question, what all doesn't he remember? Is-" A chill went down his spine. He had to know. He had to ask the question. Adam didn't give him the chance though,

"He only remembers the bookshop and all of us he met at the airbase- oh and Warlock, I think. He almost looked like he didn't remember me (However, Adam believed Aziraphale shouldn't forget him and so he didn't... mostly) and we only told him who ran the bookshop because he was freaking out about it" So, he didn't even know Muriel was his replacement, he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

However, it explained more of this strange situation, but it also left so many questions.

"D'you know what happened to Aziraphale?" Adam shook his head.

"Not really. I felt him come back and begged for Anathema and Newt's help to go find him when I realized you weren't with him. Figured you were still mad at him an' I wanted to make sure he was alright." He was still upset with him and even more so now, but he would've gone to Aziraphale in a heartbeat if he knew where he was just to make sure the angel was safe.

 

"What else happened and what is this whole recovery business?" Adam went on to explain that when they found Aziraphale, it was at his cottage and a strange angel answered the door. The angel ushered them in and explained the situation to them after he believed they could be trusted with the information he gave. Adam wasn't supposed to be listening, he was pushed up the stairs and into Aziraphale's room to watch for when he woke up, but he was too curious to not listen. They were simply told to keep Aziraphale away from the bookshop and in the South Downs, make sure he took his medication and never mention anything about Heaven, Hell, angels or demons, not even who he was. When Aziraphale woke up, the angel with them made up a story about how he was found and told him what he needed to do in order to get better and if anything got worse, let Anathema know and she could contact him.

The former demon felt even more lost for words. Aziraphale lost his memories somehow, and he didn't even know if it was Heaven's fault or the angel pulled a Gabriel. Whatever the reason, it was clear the angel that Anathema and Adam saw was helping Aziraphale in some way to stay hidden. Crowley thought back to the last letter again. Aziraphale was scared and had asked for forgiveness. He planned to do something and even admitted that there might be dire consequences for if his plan fails. He even mentioned for Crowley to go visit Alpha Centauri like he was giving a bloody suggestion for a bloody vacation spot! The angel knew the risks he was taking for whatever he did and went ahead and did them anyway! He didn't give any information in his letter, only asking for him to look into the feather. Crowley didn't though, so maybe all the answers as to what happened to his angel laid within it? He'd have to check it out later when he could actually stomach it. Right now, there was something far more important demanding his attention. "Alright, you stay down here and I'm gonna go talk to Azira. Later, I'll take you wherever you wanna go and then to home, k?" Adam smiled wide, he was practically vibrating where he stood. It was the least Crowley could offer to the former AntiChrist after all he's done.
"Really? Thanks uncle!" Crowley gave him a final pat and practically ran to the stairs and floated up the staircase. Adam didn't need watching nor telling to be careful inside the bookshop if he touched anything. He'd been here enough times to remember what would happen if anything got damaged.

 

He stopped outside Aziraphale's open bedroom door and knocked on the frame. Aziraphale was crouched on the floor in front of the glass book cabinet, the bottom doors wide open. Aziraphale didn't bother turning, mumbling under his breath as the sounds of something clicking filled the space. "Drat!" Aziraphale swore in his own way, letting out a breath of frustration as he sat back on his heels, still peering inside the space at whatever he was looking at.
"Having troubles there, angel?" Crowley cursed at himself for letting the old nickname slip. It was hard not to act normal in this private space. Aziraphale's head snapped towards him.

"Oh! Crowley, I didn't hear you come up. " He waved him in and Crowley obliged. He walked over to the chair in front of the desk and sprawled across it the best he could in a chair behind Aziraphale. He looked over the angel's shoulder to see he was tinkering with an old, plain-looking locked chest.

"Whuzz that?" The demon asked curiously.

"A chest full of answers, hopefully. Unfortunately, I don't remember the combination." Aziraphale replied, defeated. Crowley shifted a bit. He knew now that Aziraphale shouldn't be here and whatever was in the chest should remain (for now). He also felt like he needed to explain himself.

"'M sorry for yelling at you downstairs." Aziraphale turned more towards him, his now hazel eyes duller than they usually were. Not even the sparkle that practically lived in them was gone, Crowley hated seeing that little star gone before and that still hasn't changed.

"It's alright, I forgive you. I'd like to talk to you more about what happened when I get my memories back," He looked back at the chest, his hands clasping in front of him to wring together, "I must've been such a horrible person to you." He whispered sadly. Crowley straightened and leaned forward.

"You weren't, angel. You just- did something so frustratingly you and-" Crowley sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He turned and looked out the window down at the busy street below. His next words merely croaked, "And so did I..." He heard Aziraphale shuffle, only moving his eyes to watch Aziraphale look down at his clasped hands and worry at his bottom lip.

 

"Why do you call me angel?" Crowley tensed again, not even noticing the second slip until now. His leg bounced, nervous energy building as his face heated. How was he going to explain this? He merely shrugged.

"Jus' a nickname I used to call you" Aziraphale's lips formed a thin line and hummed noncommittally. He didn't press further, and Crowley felt safe for now. He quickly changed the topic, "What're you gonna do now that you can't open it?" He turned his head back to Aziraphale, who also turned to look at the old chest. He sighed heavily.

"I'll have to take it home and try to open it there. Maybe find a way to come back to clear my room out entirely. " Aziraphale motioned around the room with his hand. Crowley didn't like that. He didn't like that Aziraphale was packing his things and moving somewhere else he didn't know of or that he was doing it without his memories. This bookshop was his first home, their first place they shared together and spent so much time in and -if Crowley were being honest- his first safe place. It was the place he could always find the angel after all- as long as nothing happened again anyway.

"I could help, if you wanted. " The words left his mouth before he could fully register what he was offering. He decided to continue. In for a penny, as they say. "Can't imagine that chest would be comfortable on the bus. Looks heavy too" Aziraphale turned back to look at him with wide eyes. His hands wrung nervously in front of his waistcoat. He was silent for a few moments, looking between the chest and his hands. The angel drew in a deep breath.

"If you answer some more of my questions, then I'll consider." Crowley nodded in understanding.

"Yeah sure. Do you... want a spot of lunch while we talk? Adam could hang out here with Muriel for a bit, 'migane he'd want to say hi and they would like to see Dog." That seemed to be enough incentive. Aziraphale stood up, brushed off his trousers from any invisible dirt, and watched Crowley stand as well.

"I would never turn down such an offer. What would you say to some sushi?" Crowley shrugged and gave a lopsided smile.

"Sushi's just fine with me"

 

They left and informed Adam that he could stay and chat with Muriel when they arrived back at the bookshop. Since the restaurant was only a few minutes' walk away, Aziraphale suggested walking there. Crowley buried his hands under his armpits and lowered his chin lower into his thick black coat, his teeth chattering all the while. Aziraphale took notice and turned towards him in concern as they walked, "Oh my dear fellow, are you cold?" Crowley nodded,

"Hate it. Hate the fucking cold so much" Aziraphale tutted and, before he knew it, his neck was being wrapped in the angel's tartan scarf. The angel tucking the ends in firmly, making them both stop for a moment. Crowley's brain shut down, all his focus on Aziraphale's warm hands patting his chest and then smiling that gorgeous smile at him.

"There we are. This should help keep you warmer. " Crowley could only sputter for a few seconds, his face heating up and he was sure that his ears were visibly red. It took him a few moments before he could come back to himself.

"You didn't have to do that" The former demon's muffled response came, even though he was burying his face deeper into the scarf, seeking both its warmth and familiar, comforting smell that was Aziraphale. The angel tutted at him again, with an eye roll this time.

"It wouldn't do any good for you to catch a cold, Crowley. You should invest in getting a scarf and some gloves, would keep you much warmer." For a moment, it almost felt like nothing happened between them. Crowley wanted to hold onto that as long as he could, since anger is something he couldn't let out on Aziraphale right now. It would just be wrong, especially since Aziraphale would not understand why he was so angry in the first place.

 

Aziraphale opened the door and waved for Crowley to go in first. He didn't waste any time striding inside the much warmer place and rubbing his hands together. Aziraphale stepped in beside him and smiled up at the chef, who recognized them immediately. Tanaka-san was visibly confused when Aziraphale showed he didn't recognise him in turn, so Crowley quickly explained in Japanese (thinking Aziraphale wouldn't understand) that Aziraphale had lost his memories because of an unfortunate accident. Tanaka-san's expression eased into understanding and quickly showed them their table near the window in the corner and left to fetch a server. Crowley offered him a menu that was already placed on the table and turned his own to look over the drinks. He already knew what he wanted, but he wanted more time to prepare himself for their conversation. After a few minutes, Aziraphale sighed and placed down the menu.

"Already know what you want?" Crowley asked without looking up.

"Until the server comes, I'd like to get started if you don't mind." Crowley sighed and put down his own menu. He waved his hand for Aziraphale to begin his questioning. "I suppose I'd like to know how and when we met."

 

A simple question, yet not simple at the same time. Crowley wouldn't be able to tell him everything, but he'd be damned farther if he didn't at least try to answer without lying. "We met in a garden a long time ago. At the time we were... working for different people you could say" He watched Aziraphale closely as he processed this information. He had a feeling he knew what Aziraphale's pills were really for and if he could prevent another onslaught of pain to the angel, he would to the best of his abilities. Aziraphale nodded and looked down at his clasped hands on the table.

"Were we close? I-I mean, we must've been. You seemed to have a good understanding of where things were in the bookshop and you even knew how I took my lavender tea. I just- how close were we exactly?" Aziraphale's eyes looked back up and into Crowley's shades. The former demon was never more thankful for that barrier than he was now. He knew if Aziraphale saw how soft his eyes became- well, he wasn't sure of the outcome, but it couldn't have been anything good.

"We were very close..." He mumbled wistfully. Something in Aziraphale's expression shifted only for a millisecond before going to uncertainty. One of the angel's hands shifted forward towards Crowley's, then retreated to clasp them together again.

 

The server arrived and asked for their order with a smile. Crowley watched and turned red from embarrassment when Aziraphale ordered in Japanese quickly. When he turned to Crowley, he smiled smugly with a cocked eyebrow, waiting. Crowley looked up at the server and ordered a simple nitro roll with some Daiginjo sake. Once the server left, Crowley couldn't help but shift in his seat.

"Didn' know you remembered" He muttered under his breath without looking in the angel's direction.

"Yes well, once again you never asked" Crowley could hear the smile in Aziraphale's voice, the bastard of an angel he was. Crowley huffed with a smile and finally looked at the angel. Aziraphale's eyes widened as if surprised to see his expression, a light pink blush dusting his round cheeks. Crowley's battered heart did a flip and he had to crush it down. It wouldn't do him any good to get his hopes up.

"Questions?" He wanted to get back to semi-safer territory. Aziraphale blinked and cleared his throat.

"Yes, questions, right" He looked back down at his restless hands. Crowley watched as his brows knitted together in concentration. He wanted to reach out, to lay his hands on top of those manicured ones, to stop them from fidgeting so much. He wanted to assure Aziraphale that he needn't be so nervous with him, never with him, but he refrained. Not wanting to startle the angel or move too quick to this new tune they've found themselves forced into.

 

"Before, you called me a 'Supreme Archangel' and said I was gone for six months. You also said I left you a letter?" There was a barely noticeable flinch. Anyone who wasn't Crowley would've missed it. Crowley straightened in his seat and slid his hand closer towards Aziraphale. He had to physically stop himself from reaching out any further.

"Don' worry 'bout it. I... I don't think ye're ready for that yet. All I'll tell you is that you got a promotion and left-" me, but he bit his tongue before that slipped out. "As for the letter..." Crowley drummed his fingers against the white marble table in thought. He didn't quite know how to explain them.

"Do you still have it?" There was hope in Aziraphale's question and Crowley cursed himself for denying it even though it was very hard to. Thank someone he wasn't looking into the angel's eyes at that moment.

"Somewhere" was all he gave. He startled when a stubby, manicured fingertip bumped into one of his long ones. He looked up then and knew he was done for. Aziraphale's eyes were that of a puppy dog's, wide with hope with a slight down curve of his lips. It took herculean strength for Crowley to keep his foot down on this. "I'm sorry, Aziraphale, but I- I can't give you those letters. I don't even remember what I did with them and what they said- angel, you scared the shit out of me!" His voice nearly broke at the end. Aziraphale's expression softened, his hand moved forward before it retreated when the server arrived.

 

Once Aziraphale thanked the server and watched them go, he didn't waste a moment to pick up a pink lady roll and put it in his mouth. He hummed around the roll and his lips quirked up in satisfaction. Someone Crowley missed this. The former demon picked up his glass and took a grateful sip of his drink. They ate together in silence, Crowley mostly watching Aziraphale enjoying his meal and drinking his sake. He ate two of his rolls before pushing the plate towards Aziraphale once the angel finished all his rolls. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley in question, "Are you sure? You've barely touched them. " Crowley waved his hand,

"I had my fill. Go on" Aziraphale clucked his tongue and picked up one of the newly offered rolls.

"One must wonder where you get so much energy." Crowley opened his mouth to remind him that he technically doesn't need to eat before promptly shutting it again. Aziraphale doesn't remember they aren't human and so don't need to worry about such things. Instead, he shrugged and held his glass to his lips.

"How do you know I have so much energy?"

"My dear, you seem to have a problem with sitting still. " Crowley nearly choked on his drink by the unexpected endearment. He should've been used to it by now, damn it! Aziraphale looked on at him with worry before Crowley waved it off and choked out 'I'm fine's'.

"You don't do well with being called things like that, do you?" Aziraphale observed. Crowley chuckled and shook his head.

"Should've been used to it by now, t'be honest. 'T's just been so long- 'r felt like so long, anyway. " They lapsed into silence again. Aziraphale tapped his chopsticks against his plate in thought. Crowley wanted to know more about what Aziraphale's been up to and where he's been staying. It was still a surprise to learn that he had gotten a cottage when it was something they both had been talking about on and off for centuries, more so since Armageddidn't. Just a pipe dream to Crowley, but he still held onto that hope, longing for it to become reality. He knew though that Aziraphale wouldn't talk about it, not yet anyway. He's gotten to know the angel pretty well and knew how he worked both in and out. If he wanted something, he'd have to go slowly.

 

"Do you, by any chance, know if there was... someone else in my life?" Crowley wasn't expecting a question, nor that one. He could feel his brow wrinkle as he shook his head. It was such an odd question.

"No, it- it was always just us. " At least it used to be, and not in the way he wanted. Yes, he was very happy to have his friendship with Aziraphale, but he couldn't deny the deep longing for something more. "Why'd you ask?" The pink dusting returned to Aziraphale's cheeks as he stuffed his mouth with the last roll on his plate. He chewed slowly and avoided eye contact with Crowley. The former demon waited patiently until Aziraphale swallowed and relented.

"My cottage- I don't remember if I bought it or-or if it was inherited. I just..." He sighed wistfully, his next words spoken softly with sadness as he looked out the window, "I feel like I'm missing someone" Crowley's heart broke a touch because that's all he'd allow. Crowley knew what the angel was talking about because he was missing him too, but he couldn't go and blurt that out. He had to find a way to help Aziraphale no matter what. Making a bold move, he stretched his hand out and tentatively laid it over Aziraphale's and stilled his chopsticks. The angel's head whipped toward their hands, then up at Crowley. The former demon offered a small smile,
"I'll help you retrieve your memories, I promise. " He gently squeezed the angel's plump hand before retreating and standing.

 

He stretched his limbs and didn't miss the way Aziraphale was watching him. He refrained from commenting. They weren't on that level anymore, and he didn't want to spook the angel by acting so familiar with him, even if they were. "Back to the bookshop?" Aziraphale nodded and stood. He padded his pockets before Crowley held up his hand, "'Ve got it" He reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet that just so happened to be there and retrieved the amount plus tip to lie on the table. Aziraphale smiled widely and Crowley ducked his head, grabbing the scarf and coat from his chair to put back on.

"You didn't have to-" Crowley shrugged both at the Aziraphale and settled the coat on his shoulders.

"Don' worry 'bout it. Used to it" Aziraphale's brow furrowed by his comment.

"Do you always pay?"

"Most of the time, yeah. A lot more in recent years." It was a fact of their relationship and the times Aziraphale offered, Crowley had already paid. It was one of the things that made him so happy to do. Now, Aziraphale hunched his shoulders inward and fiddled with his buttons.

"I'm so sorry, I really should be paying instead-"

"Whoa hey," Crowley was by his side in a second. He laid his hand on Aziraphale's upper arm without even thinking about it. "I'm more than happy to do it. Ya ain't takin' advantage, angel. I want to do this for you, even if I'm still bloody furious with you. " Crowley led Aziraphale toward the door, the angel not resisting one bit. However, that furrowed brow seemed to only deepen.

 

"You know you're only piling more questions on."

"What do you mean?" Aziraphale took a step away, Crowley's hand falling away from his arm. It felt significantly cold and empty suddenly, and he didn't like the way it made him feel.

"Well, for one I still want to know what it was I did to make you so angry and second, I'm starting to think 'angel' is not just a nickname like you claimed." Crowley's jaw tightened. He was not ready for either conversation yet. He just got Aziraphale back and he wasn't going to lash out while Aziraphale had no memories, no matter how much his burning insides demanded.

"What makes you think that?" His throat felt tight, the question more forced out than anything.

"The way you said it inside," Aziraphale motioned behind them back towards the restaurant they had just left, "You said it in-in such a way that sounded like an endearment in of its own. Crowley," The sudden touch stopped Crowley from walking. Aziraphale's hand felt like a brand on his upper arm and held on tighter than when he touched Aziraphale only moments ago. Crowley couldn't help but zone in on that hand as Aziraphale continued to look at him. His eyes searching through the shades for his serpentine eyes, "What was I to you?" He whispered in a desperate voice. "What-what were we?" Crowley shrugged off the hand, even though his body wanted nothing more than to press into it. He forced his jaw to unclench and he took a step forward.

"We weren't anything" He forced out in a broken way. He didn't- couldn't have this conversation with Aziraphale. Not now and preferably not ever. He walked faster away and towards the bookshop once he saw it.

 

Aziraphale huffed as he quickened his own pace to catch up to the long-legged being. "That doesn't fully answer other my question, Crowley!" This only made Crowley pick up his pace,

"Look, this isn't a discussion we can have yet! I can't-" Suddenly Aziraphale was in front of him. Crowley didn't even hear when he caught up or notice until he was forced to stop at the bottom of the bookshop steps. He gulped, held in place by the steel he saw in Aziraphale's eyes. The angel's fists were clenched at his sides and he glared at him.

"Then when is it time? Ever since I met you, you have only repeatedly told me I wasn't ready to know the answers I came here to seek! If you want to help me like you claimed, you'll have to answer something or I won't-" Aziraphale stopped, his eyes widening and seemed to glaze over.

"Won't what?" When no answer came, Crowley took a small step forward and watched the angel carefully. "Aziraphale?"

"I'll never talk to you again. " The words sounded like an echo from the past. There was no warning before Aziraphale fell forward. Crowley rushed in and caught him before he hit the ground.

 

"Aziraphale?! Angel, come on, wake up!" Crowley tapped at his cheek, panic rising in his chest. He picked up the angel and rushed up the stairs two at a time. The doors opened for him and he saw Adam and Muriel chatting away with Dog in Adam's lap. All heads turned towards Crowley, then looked at the unconscious being in his arms with alarm. Adam scooped up the tiny dog in his arms and rushed forward.

"What happened?" Crowley moved passed him and gently laid Aziraphale onto the old chesterfield.

"I don't know! One minute he was talking and the next he looked lost in a memory, then passed out. Tell me you know the reason why!" Crowley demanded. He looked up at the boy, who was now clutching Dog to his chest.

"Did you say anything that could've triggered him?"

"No!" Crowley's arms spread wide and shoulders hunched. "He was threatening to never talk to me..." The words slowly died off his tongue. The way Aziraphale had said it was like he wasn't even talking to him, more rather than just repeating something he said once before.

"He must've triggered a memory himself then"

 

"Is he going to be alright?" Muriel questioned from their seat. Their worry bled out and Crowley could see they were trying not to panic. Crowley rushed in to assure them, he didn't want Muriel to panic at all.

"Yeah, yeah he'll be alright. What do we do, Adam? Ya gotta know something about this"

"Unfortunately, he has to wake up on his own, but he can't stay here. 'T's too dangerous for him"

"What do you mean 'too dangerous'?" Muriel asked slowly.

"I don't know everythin' that's goin' on, but I know someone's lookin' for him. Anathema might know more"

"Great, stay here for a sec" Crowley quickly stood and rushed up the stairs. He quickly entered Aziraphale's room, grabbed his chest he was trying to open and looked towards the trinkets display. He pursed his lips before closing up his feather in its case and stuffed it in his pocket before picking the heavy chest back up and taking it downstairs with him. It wasn't a good idea, he knew it wasn't a good idea, but Aziraphale had wanted to take it home with him and Crowley still found it hard to deny him anything. Besides, he didn't want the persistent bastard to return here for it later.

Adam, Dog, and Muriel looked at him curiously before Crowley huffed the chest into Adam's now free hands. The boy struggled for a moment before hefting it up in a better grip. Crowley walked over to Aziraphale and gently picked up his body, "Alright, we're gonna take Aziraphale back to his place, then I'll drop you off back home. Muriel," He turned back to Muriel who perked up a bit, "call me if any angels come down asking for Aziraphale. Don' tell them anythin', 'lright?" Muriel nodded, their lips in a thin line. "I can't promise you won't get into trouble, but it'll be safer for everyone if no one knew where he was. " However, that worked. Crowley was still trying to wrap his head around the fact he couldn't sense Aziraphale at all, even though he was in his arms. That alone was terrifying.

 

Muriel watched as Adam, Dog, and Crowley exited the building and to the Bentley. She quickly opened her doors and the back seat bent forward for Crowley to lie the angel down in the back. She rumbled to life the minute Adam and Crowley sat down with Dog sitting in Adam's lap, and the ancient chest safely tucked away in the car's boot. Crowley pulled out of his spot and zipped into traffic, following Adam's instructions on where Aziraphale lived. He didn't know how he felt about Aziraphale living in the South Downs. He didn't even know how he felt when he pulled up to a cottage that looked so familiar it ached to see. It was a cottage he had his eyes on ever since it was built. He was even thinking about getting it one day for both Aziraphale and himself (He hoped the angel wouldn't have denied him anyway). After everything happened, he looked for it only to find it had been already purchased by someone else. To know Aziraphale was the one who bought it was both a comforting surprise and horrifying. He could feel the wards thrumming even from the end of the long driveway. There was a small layer of snow, but the vines on the side of the house didn't seem to realize that they weren't supposed to look as vibrant as they did. They were a slightly brown from decay, but not fully dead either.

It took a moment for Crowley to register that he needed to get out and take Aziraphale inside. Quickly, Adam grabbed the chest from the boot of the car while Crowley picked up Aziraphale and walked up to the porch steps of the cottage. He noted that the whole porch would need a good fixing-up and polishing. The door swung open before he could figure out where Aziraphale's keys were and his chest felt immediately tight. He cautiously passed the threshold to inside and shivered from the cold along with the energy in the air. He was welcomed in and it just added more mixed emotions. Aziraphale heavily warded this place and allowed the wards to let Crowley in. He blinked the tears away that were trying to gather in his eyes and shook his head. He couldn't look around like he wanted, he wasn't even sure if he was allowed to. He followed Adam up the steps and stopped outside the bedroom. Crowley knew he had to enter, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It took Adam pushing him inside for him to fully move. He didn't feel any pain and even here he was welcomed. He refused to look around the room here as well, but he couldn't look away from the large bed.

 

He gently laid Aziraphale down and removed his shoes for him to set aside. His hands shook as he brought up the gray tartan (because, of course, it was tartan) duvet over the being. His hand swept the curls back from his forehead and just wondered. There were a couple of pillows on the bed that were black, which did something funny to Crowley's heart, pillows he knew Aziraphale would never get for himself. After all, the one his head had currently occupied was white. "D'you know how long he'll be out?" Crowley didn't turn away from Aziraphale, he couldn't help but worry.

"The longest he was out was half a day. Someone should be here when he wakes up." Crowley heard the sentence for what it was.

"I'll call Anathema and let her know to come over-"

"Crowley, ya can't avoid him forever. Why not just stay with him?" Crowley removed his hand and turned towards the boy. Adam didn't look impressed by Crowley stalking towards him, nor his bared teeth. He now registered that Adam was no longer holding the chest, he'd have to see where the boy set it down later.

"Because I'm still angry with him. " He hissed. Crowley pushed passed the boy and walked down the stairs. Adam and Dog followed quickly behind,

"Y'know, Anathema's just gonna say the same thing with more words, right?" Crowley knew and wasn't gonna give in.

Chapter 3: Enter Raphael

Summary:

Crowley and Raphael meet again. Raphael answers some of Crowley's questions, leaves him with more and helps Aziraphale. Crowley seethes, curses, worries and tries not to throw Raphael out of the cottage.

Notes:

Forewarning: A LOT of F-bombs in the first paragraph

Crowley was seething. Fuck Adam for being right, fuck Aziraphale for leaving him and coming back like- this! And right now, fuck Anathema for not coming to watch Aziraphale so he could leave, go get drunk and then, hopefully, pass out for a week. “You can’t avoid him forever, Crowley.” The witch said, “If you really want to leave, wait until after Raphael shows up. He needs to know about this.” Crowley didn’t trust another angel anywhere near Aziraphale, helping him or not. He was pretty sure Raphael had a hand in Aziraphale’s condition as well. He could practically see Anathema’s smug grin when he reluctantly agreed to stay and watch over Aziraphale. Fuck her, he thought again. After he hung up, he cracked the door to Aziraphale’s bedroom open and took a peek inside to check on the angel again. He hadn’t woken or moved for three hours already. It was both weird and concerning to Crowley. He’d seen Aziraphale sleep twice before and that was on the same day. The angel explained he rarely ever slept and didn’t like it one bit, always having nightmares until Crowley found him the last time after the Apaconot.

 

Once Crowley was sure the angel wouldn’t wake up anytime soon, he went back downstairs and straight to the front door. He snapped his fingers and summoned an old scroll from the back room in the bookshop and some of his special chalk. The scroll was a lucky find; he had found it after rescuing Aziraphale from a group of humans in Rome before the library of Alexandria was destroyed. At the time, he was on his way to see the angel when he felt a strange feeling in his chest. He didn’t know what it was when he felt Aziraphale’s distress through the metaphysical plane. He hadn’t hesitated back then , that was the first time he saved the angel from humans. It was also the first time Aziraphale beamed that Smile at him, a memory he’ll never forget.

 

Crowley got to work, going as slow as possible as he studied the scroll that hung in the air by his side. Taking great and precise care to draw the circle and double-checking the sigils along the lines. Anathema said she’d contact Raphael, so he skipped some of the scroll’s steps. All he needed to do was ensure Raphael got trapped once he stepped inside. Once satisfied, he added his own magic to ensure the trap would hold the Archangel. The sun was setting outside, so he didn’t need to worry about hiding the circle. Angels rarely looked down anyway. They believed they were too good to lower their heads for any reason. Crowley stood and turned away to once again take in the entire room; the warm rosy-gold light bathed the room, making the cottage interior truly beautiful. Crowley ached to explore it and learn all of its secrets, but it wasn’t his space. He wasn’t even sure if Aziraphale bought it with the intention of inviting him to stay as well, contradicting some of the evidence pointing to the answer yes otherwise. He wasn’t even sure he and Aziraphale would continue to be friends after he remembered.

 

He still had so much to think about, so much new information to process. His and Aziraphale’s friends told him that there was no way Aziraphale would have abandoned Their Side, not without a good reason that was. Nina was the only one skeptical about the whole thing , she still didn’t fully agree with Maggie that Aziraphale wouldn’t just leave and keep his word to make Heaven better. However, she didn’t trust the Metatron either. Nina even said that he gave her the creeps which was weird considering what he was supposed to be. Crowley just didn’t know what to think right now. Aziraphale left him , he chose Heaven over him, over Their Side. Sure, he wrote updates and wished the former demon well, but he never came in person to try and talk to him. Crowley knows now he can’t pin all the blame on Aziraphale though . He didn’t exactly try reaching out after learning of those letters and that last day, he let his emotions cloud his rationality. He didn’t see the signs that something was wrong until it was too late. Thinking back now , that kiss should’ve been the biggest red flag.

 

Crowley was pulled out of his thoughts by a knock at the door. He turned back towards the door and cautiously approached it. The smell of holiness and ozone burned his nostrils , it had to be the Archangel Anathema contacted. He ripped the door open and leaned casually against the frame, watching Raphael jump back startled. His eyes opened unbelievably wide and his mouth hung open slack. “ Raphael ” Crowley tried nonchalantly in greeting, a whisper of a hiss within his tone.

“ḷ̶̞̒͑̊̕͘ĩ̵͙̇̽e̸̛̼̟̓̀̒b̷̳͖̋͠ͅä̴̤́͆̂͝k̶̭̒̇͂o̷̦͋K̴͎̍͛̓?” The Archangel whispered in a deafening surprise. Crowley hissed and leaned close, baring his teeth in a snarl. He didn’t hear the name Raphael said, but it was no doubt his old name. Still, he didn’t want Raphael to know that he had forgotten it. He was actually surprised Raphael even remembered him. Then again, they were both pretty tight Before, up until the Rebellion that was . He hissed, 

“NOT my name anymore ”

 

Crowley swung the door open wider and backed away to let Raphael in. The off-white-suited being was still staring at him when he walked through, and it took him a moment to realize what had happened after bouncing off the invisible barrier keeping him inside the trap. He looked down at his feet and then back up at Crowley, exasperation and sadness in his eyes. “Really, now? I was called here to help.” Crowley sat down in a wooden chair that was surprised to find itself there and no longer at the dining table.

“That’s what Anathema said. I want answers” Raphael’s shoulders slumped down further, sighing in resignation.

“Still asking questions I see. Crowley now, isn’t it? I’ve heard many great things about you, but I never thought it was  you “ Crowley shrugged his shoulder.

“Neva stopped asking. I’d ask what all you heard and from whom, but there are more pressing things at hand. Most of them including the angel currently sleeping upstairs.” A brief flash of what looked like concern swept through the other’s hazel eyes, but Crowley didn’t believe that could be it.

 

“How is he doing? I was told he went to the bookshop and had an episode ”

“Is that what you call it?” Crowley’s voice climbed an octave in the utter ridiculousness. He answered truthfully though , “Yes, something like that. Adam said he triggered a memory himself then he passed out. Hasn’t woken since.” Raphael actually tutted, which was weird to see from an Archangel, and rolled his eyes.

“I should’ve never trusted those humans with keeping him here” Crowley bolted out of the chair and marched up to the circle. Heat rose in his chest for both defending his friends and building anger.

“What were you planning to do with him?” He growled, “If they didn’t step in, WHAT?” Raphael jumped back in surprise. He couldn’t do anything while within the circle , he knew that Crowley held all the power currently.

“I would’ve been coming down more often, suggesting he continue to recover here and for him not to leave. It was Raziel’s idea to trust the humans once they showed up at the door. They said it would raise less suspicion.”

“Less suspicion? Less suspicion for what? I know something happened before Aziraphale came back and that raises a couple more questions. Why can’t I feel him and why can’t he remember anything?!” His voice was growing louder with each question. He was truly at his wits end and Aziraphale’s current state was scaring him.

 

Raphael raised his hand in hopes of placating Crowley. He spoke slowly and gently, “Keep your voice down, Crowley. I don’t think anything could wake Aziraphale right now, but I don’t want to risk that either. He’s already going to be in enough pain when he does.” That didn’t calm Crowley whatsoever, in fact, it made him worry more.

“What do you mean?” Raphael gestured to the chair behind the former demon.

“Please sit and I will explain everything.” Crowley backed up far enough to grab the chair and pull it closer to him. He sat down and leaned forward, waving his hand for the Archangel to start. Raphael took in a deep breath and began.

 

Raphael, a few other archangels, Aziraphale, and Jesus had made a plan to steal the Book of Life and hide it somewhere no one else could find it. They had discovered not only did the Almighty put a pause on Armageddon after Jesus’s times on Earth, but there was no plan for the Second Coming. After all, why would there be if Armageddon did happen? Jesus was with the Almighty up until a year ago when She disappeared. She sent him off and when he went back to where they were both staying, there was no trace of Her. They didn’t talk much about Heaven and She wanted to ‘take a vacation’ with him for a while. So, when the Son of God found himself being called by the Metatron, it was quite a surprise to him. There was only one other being who was in charge of Heaven and all suspicion fell on the Metatron. He had become too power-hungry, but no one else put the pieces together and no one else would believe any of them without proof. 

 

So, once Jesus told them of this information, they devised a plan; Gather all the information on the Second Coming over time, destroy all the files, take the Book of Life so the Metatron had less leverage over everyone, hide it away, and then start searching for God. If anything went wrong, Jesus had to leave Heaven and lie low for a while. When Crowley heard Aziraphale volunteering to take the fall so no one else got punished, his jaw clenched and nails that sharpened into claws dug so deep into his white fists it almost drew blood. Aziraphale and Raziel were able to gather all the files easily enough. They had planned to destroy them at the same time Jesus and Raguel, the other Archangel, had gotten the Book, but when they all met up the alarm went off. Someone had learned of the Book of Life’s disappearance. Raphael had met them in the hall on their way to the lift and tried to get Aziraphale to go on the lift with Jesus. When he refused to leave, Raphael and the other Archangels nodded to each other and knocked their new Supreme Archangel stand-in out.

 

They had all grown to like Aziraphale over his short time in Heaven. They hadn’t been inspired to try and make it better in a long time , unlike the other Archangels, they had visited Earth from time to time after Jesus’s birth and stuck to their own devices. They knew how corrupt the system was, how the blank white vastness held no Love even though they were supposed to. They didn’t look forward to Armageddon like the other angels, especially not Raphael. When they heard an angel and a demon had helped stop it , they didn’t know how to react . It was God’s will- as they believed at the time- for it to come to pass and then it didn’t. They felt adrift and unsure of what to do until they heard Aziraphale had accepted the job to become a Supreme Archangel, but that wouldn’t come to fruition for him. At least, not in the way many would think.

 

“What do you mean, not in the way many would think? Couldn’t they’ve jus-?” Crowley snapped his fingers and waved his hand down in demonstration. Raphael had sat down cross-legged during his explanation. He shook his head and heaved a sigh.

“It’s not that simple. It’s not like how the humans do it, it’s more than just a job, Crowley. We are made into the ranks we are given and thus given specific abilities and have been made a certain way. In our human corporations, we can decide what we show and to any human, we could look like any other Angel if we wanted to. With simply our True Forms, even you’d be able to tell what we are. It’s never been done and there’s only one angel in history that’s been demoted without being cast out of Heaven.” Crowley’s brows furrowed, he was even more confused now than he had been before.

“So, Aziraphale isn’t a Supreme Archangel?” Raphael shook his head, pity written all over his face.

“He’s got all the knowledge a Supreme Archangel would need, but he’s still exactly as he was before coming back . Only now-“ Raphael bit his lower lip and looked up in the direction the bedroom was above them.

 

“Only now, what?” Crowley pressed. Raphael looked back at him and stood up.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until I can find a way to locate Gabriel and help him before returning his memories. It’s best if he doesn’t remember right now.”

“What?!” Crowley stood and approached the circle again. “No, I’m not letting you out of there until you tell me why you need to find Gabriel and why he needs to remain a Gabriel-turned-Jim” Raphael’s eyebrow rose up in confusion. Crowley waved dismissively and waited. Raphael kept his lips pressed , but as more time passed, he relented.

“Only if you make sure he doesn’t go back to the bookshop. It’s not just to keep him from possibly having more episodes, but for his own safety. All of Heaven knows about that place and they’ll continue to wait until he goes there. He got lucky the first time and I’m sure you being there helped. No one can sense him right now because we miracled a cloak over him , the only way for it to be undone is if he performs any miracles himself. Upstairs is looking for him and the Metatron is furious.”

 

“I’ll keep him safe.” The words rushed out before he could think better of it. His heart pouring out without his say-so. Raphael smiled and let out a breath of relief.

“I’m sure you will. He truly does care about you.” Crowley turned his head towards the stairs,

“Got ta’ funny way of showin’ it ” He grumbled.

“He spoke of nothing else when he was in my office , you know . Anyone could tell he truly missed you.” That gave Crowley pause. He understood how the other Archangels played a role in helping him, but Raphael was a Healer. There was no reason Crowley could think of for Aziraphale to meet with him unless-

 

“So, you gonna tell me why Aziraphale was meeting with you in the first place?” He turned back to look at the Archangel, narrowing his eyes in suspicion once more .

“Are you ever going to let me out of this circle? The more time we spend talking here, the more Aziraphale could be at risk if something is truly wrong with him.” A flare of protectiveness surged up , he didn’t want Raphael anywhere near the angel. He didn’t know if he could still trust him after all this time. But, the idea that Aziraphale could be unconsciously hurting pained him even more. Reluctantly, he rubbed his boot over the chalk and deactivated the trap. Raphael wasted no time in rushing passed Crowley and up the stairs to Aziraphale’s bedroom.

 

When they arrived, Raphael immediately sat at Aziraphale’s side the moment he heard the angel’s whimpers of pain. Crowley dug his heels into the floor to prevent him from yanking the healer away from Aziraphale. Raphael laid his hand gently over Aziraphale’s eyes, closed his own, and whispered what sounded like a prayer under his breath. Crowley shivered at the pinprick feeling of Holy magic ringing out around the room. Raphael’s concentrated features soon smoothed out and he withdrew his hand. He stood and turned to Crowley, inclining his head for him to follow through the door. Crowley looked back at Aziraphale , after seeing him looking more at peace he followed as quietly as he could and closed the door gently behind him. Raphael turned in the hall and hooked his hands together behind his back. “After Aziraphale arrived in Heaven, he was immediately taken to a room only Archangels can enter unless invited in . Raziel found him had brought Aziraphale to my attention soon afterward. I tended to him frequently after he started his... process of what he was told he would need to complete to become the Supreme Archangel. As I’ve said before, this has never been done and with Aziraphale’s past, it was no wonder the toll it took on him. However, he was determined to continue in order to save this world he loves so deeply. Crowley, what was happening in Heaven, it drained him. After I brought him here, I miracled him to forget. It was the only way for him to live as pain-free as possible.

 

“No one deserves to go through the things he did, the things you and, I’m sure, others that Fell did.” Crowley hissed in warning, but Raphael pressed on, “Make sure he takes his pills when he wakes up and please contact me if anything else happens. I really need to get back to Heaven right now and see if Raguel heard anything about Gabriel-“

“Wait… I can tell you where he is” Raphael’s eyes, once again, widened in surprise. He nodded for Crowley to continue, “But before I tell you where he is, you need to tell me why you need to find him.” The Archangel sighed in exasperation once again,

“He and the Metatron are the only two beings who can undo what was done to Aziraphale. He was only ever a stand-in , once the process is reversed and all that Archangel knowledge is gone, then he’ll feel better again- mostly.” Crowley’s brows furrowed,

“What do you mean mostly?” Raphael shook his head.

“Doctor confidentiality , only he can share that information.” Crowley sighed, making a mental note to question Aziraphale about it later. He wouldn’t pressure the angel to tell him if he didn’t want to, but if there was any way Crowley could help he would. After all, Aziraphale has helped him with his pains more than once.

 

“He and Beelzebub are off at Alpha Centauri. Bloody lucky bastards.” He whispered that last part under his breath bitterly. Raphael smiled and inclined his head.

“Thank you for that information” Crowley grimaced and waved his hand.

“Don’t. Bloody git owes us after what we did for him anyhow. Before you go, the pills?” Raphael lifted an eyebrow at the ridiculous question.

“Only to help with the pain. Nothing more” Crowley nodded,

“Right. Got it. Well, good talk.” The former turned his head to leave when Raphael spoke again.

“Crowley.”

“Hmm?” He turned back to face the archangel.

“It’s good to see you again” Crowley gave a look at what he hoped conveyed disgust. Raphael simply smiled a knowing thing and then he was gone in a flash of light. Crowley sighed, letting out all the tension he had carried since hearing about Raphael’s upcoming arrival. He turned on his heel and went back into Aziraphale’s room to continue watching over him. He miracled a chair next to the bed and sprawled into it, studying Aziraphale’s calm frame for any signs of changes as his mind processed everything he had learned.

 

Now that he got most of his answers, he didn’t really know what to do with them. This wasn’t at all how he’d hoped he and Aziraphale would meet again. His anger slowly slipped away more and more. He now understood more of what happened, but how they parted still didn’t sit well with him. They both said some nasty things to each other and now Raphael practically confirmed what Aziraphale had written in his letter, that he was trying to protect him the only way they both knew how. He thinks again, how did he not see the signs? They had played that tune for 6 thousand years and he missed practically all the signs. He was so caught up in his own emotions after Maggie and Nina spoke to him, that Crowley completely forgot about the threat of the Metatron outside the door. Aziraphale kept looking out the window, kept speaking in code and even towards the end was even more blunt, but he wasn’t listening. Not until after he got out to the Bentley and even then- Even then he still couldn’t figure out where everything went wrong.

 

He found himself wondering once again, could he have changed anything? Could they have done something different? He tried to not look back too much on things. Those thoughts only lead to madness, but sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder. He knew Aziraphale felt something for him and he always knew he felt something deeper than love for the angel, but never knew what it was until Nina pointed it out. It took a bloody human for him to finally realize what that feeling was. He couldn’t help but kick himself for it. Did Aziraphale know too ? He must have , he’s an angel. They’re supposed to be able to sense love. He wondered if Aziraphale thought Crowley knew what the feeling was. He thought back to that night in 1967, back to those words the angel spoke. You go too fast for me, Crowley . Was that what he meant?

 

He’s always known he wanted to be closer to the angel since on the Wall when he revealed giving away his sword. It sent a pleasant warm feeling through his chest for the angel and couldn’t help but seek him out whenever he felt Aziraphale was near. Over 6,000 years, all he wanted was to remain by the angel’s side. He longed to see those smiles, yearned to hear that beautiful laughter, pined from afar as he took in the utter beauty this angel possessed that no other angel did. He was the true picture of what an angel should be. Sure the angel had flaws, but that’s what made Crowley love him even more. Aziraphale was always so worried about doing the wrong thing, only ever wanting to do what he believed to be the Right thing. Crowley supposed that’s why Aziraphale chose to go to Heaven and not return once. He wanted to do the Right thing. The question was, was it really to try and change Heaven for the better or was it to stop The Second Coming all along? He ran his fingers through his hair and tugged in frustration. He whispered softly, “Aziraphale, what were you really thinking?”

Chapter 4: Care

Summary:

Aziraphale wakes up and they chat. A promise is made.

Notes:

A bit of a shorter chapter, this chapter and the next were kinda hard to write since I'm not good at slow pacing stuff where it's needed (in my opinion). Hope you all enjoy this one!

His head pounded something painful and fierce. He groaned and even that small sound hurt. He forced a single eye open before it quickly shut again by the dim light. By the feel of cushion underneath him and thick warmth surrounding him, he knew he was in his bed. However, he was having trouble remembering how he got there. “Aziraphale?” A quiet voice whispered from within the room to his right. It took him a moment to recognize who it belonged to, and he forced his eyes to open just a tad. He squinted, confused at the ginger- Crowley he remembered- sitting in a chair near him. His body was leaning forward, both elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped together in front of his mouth and chin. He sat just a few feet away, clear worry written all over his face. Aziraphale knew he should be demanding to know why he was there in his room, ask for him to leave and feel embarrassed by this entire predicament. He couldn’t bring himself too now though. He couldn’t bring himself to do much of anything with how much pain his head was in and how his body refused to move much almost like paralysis.

“Crowley?” He whispered, “What’re you doin’ here? Where’s Adam?” His words were slurred from sleep and that he did feel slightly embarrassed about.

“Mr. Young came ‘n got ‘im after we got here. Ya worried quite a few people, angel” There was that nickname again. It caused a funny feeling to stir in Aziraphale’s stomach. Something for him to examine later.

“How long?”

“A full day” Aziraphale winced. No wonder he was in so much pain, he felt like a train had run him over. He dreaded the thought of how he was going to cope this time.

“Thank you for staying with me” Crowley grimaced and waved his hand in his direction.

“Don’ thank me. ‘M only here cuz Adam asked me to” (And cuz Anathema gave him quite the earful, but Aziraphale didn’t need to know that.) Aziraphale offered a small smile, the best he could do, unfortunately.

“Regardless, you don’t need to stay with me anymore”

 

“Well, that’s jus’ too bad. A little witch told me you needed looking after once ya woke up.”

“That little witch should really not fret so much. I’ll be fine.” Crowley’s lips pursed and nodded, but not in agreement. He stood up and went into the bathroom. Aziraphale heard the water run for a few seconds before Crowley re-emerged with a glass of water in one hand and a couple of his pills in the other. He set them down on the bedside table and helped Aziraphale sit up just enough to take the pills and water without any troubles. Somehow sensing he couldn’t move, he lifted the pills to Aziraphale’s lips. The blonde blushed and looked at Crowley, “Really, my dear, I can take them myself”

“Yeah?” Crowley challenged, his eyebrow lifting in what could only be described as amusement. “Show me” This time, he simply offered the pills. Aziraphale tried to move one of his hands, but the best he got was a pinkie twitching slightly. Crowley smiled smugly.

“Fiend” Aziraphale retorted with little heat and huffed.

“‘N don’t you forget it.” Aziraphale opened his mouth and allowed Crowley to gently pop the pills in. He then reached for the glass and helped Aziraphale drink some water before pulling away and setting it back down. “How ya feeling?” Aziraphale felt completely unprepared by the softness in Crowley’s voice. It took him a minute before he answered quietly,

“My head’s pounding and my stomach also isn’t very happy.” Which was an understatement. Once again, it looked as though Crowley knew what he really meant. As Aziraphale watched the man’s lips thin in thought, he once again studied the man before him. Now that their proximity was much closer than he would’ve normally tolerated and things have died down, his aching mind was beginning to put pieces together. Crowley not only looked familiar to him, he’s seen him before! However, he’s only ever seen him in dreams. Aziraphale had read how dreams are- oh, how did that saying go?- a reflection of the subconscious mind? Crowley has already proven that they were close once, he remembered how he felt in the few nice dreams he had for this man along with how devastated and lost he felt in his nightmares. This man had become one of his constants.

 

“Aziraphale?” The blond blinked, pulled out of his reverie by the worried note in Crowley’s voice. His brow was furrowed, and he had moved his hand closer to Aziraphale’s at some point without his realizing it.

“Sorry, what was that?” He asked sheepishly. There was the slight tinge of panic, a feeling he got whenever someone questioned him when he had stopped listening. He didn’t know why he felt the need to be nervous or panic, but the feeling was there all the same.

“I offered to go get you some soup, but I maybe I should wait?” Oh, this kind man. Aziraphale gave another small smile in apology.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my dear boy. I just- I finally recognized you.” Crowley visibly stiffened, which puzzled Aziraphale. Wasn’t that a good thing? Though, perhaps not since it wasn’t from any memory, he felt like. His dreams seemed too far-fetched to be reality. “I thought I did when I saw you yesterday, but it’s finally clicked now”

“What do you remember?” There was a mixture of fear and hope in his voice. Aziraphale felt terrible and embarrassed to reveal the truth as to what. He worried at his bottom lip and lowered his gaze down. His throat felt tight when he whispered,

“When I sleep. You’ve been in most of my... dreams.”

“Dreams or nightmares?” Aziraphale’s eyes snapped back up to Crowley’s, his eyes still hidden behind those darn shades! He found himself beginning to hate that barrier. Or, maybe he always hated it, certainly felt like an old annoyance. When Aziraphale didn’t answer, Crowley’s cheeks turned pink, and he was the one to turn away this time. “You... admitted to having nightmares whenever you slept. Said ya didn’ like it because of them” Aziraphale’s eyes dropped to his lap. When he provided no answer, he heard Crowley’s chair move a tad. He looked up to find the other standing and turning away from him. He said something that sounded like ‘gonna go get some soup’ quietly and with that, the other was out of the room. Aziraphale released a shuddering breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly to calm his thumping heart. What was it about this Crowley that drew him in and made him want to keep him close? He let his mind ponder Crowley’s question and admission, trying to focus on the more pleasant dreams. When he had nightmares- well, best not to think of them at all. Not like it mattered much. He rarely ever remembered anything he dreamt of, but he did remember how he woke up every time. He always woke up in a cold sweat, sometimes screaming a name he never realized what it was. He felt his head tip to the side a tad, thinking about that. The times he screamed, cried out right after waking up and reaching for something- or was it someone?- that wasn’t there. He never thought about it. Did he scream someone’s name? And who’s would it have been? Flashes of a recent nightmare came to mind unbidden; darkness around him, many disgusting faces screaming for his demise, three beings standing before him, when he turned, a white tub underneath the only reliable light source in the room. It was a common nightmare he unfortunately remembered, always distorting and growing worse each time he had it. However, this time the nightmare turned into a pleasant dream unexpectedly, which has never happened before.

The door opened and Aziraphale opened his eyes, unsure of when they closed, to see Crowley walking in with a tray consisting of a bowl of soup and what smelled to be of tea next to it. Slowly, he lowered the tray down in front of the white-blonde. “Sorry it took so long, didn’t know where anything was,” Crowley said quietly, refusing to look at Aziraphale. Aziraphale looked at the ginger with confusion. Had he never invited this gorgeous being over before? Before he could ask, his stomach rumbled a complaint. Crowley pulled his chair closer, reached for the spoon and dipped it into the bowl. Aziraphale protested,

“Really, there’s no need for you to do that.”

“Shut it,” Crowley hissed with no heat, “You still can’t move. So indulge me and let me help you.”

“Now, Crowley, that really is quite rude.” Crowley lifted the spoon to his mouth,

“Yeah, well- I’m not exactly nice either.” Aziraphale would disagree, but he obediently opened his mouth for Crowley and closed it around the spoon. He let the warmth of the broth sit on his tongue soothe him, humming in approval before gulping it down. He continued to focus on the warmth as it made its way down into his stomach that began to settle.

“Whatever you say, my dear” He tried to hold back the smile that tried to take over his face from seeing Crowley’s flustered reaction. He found himself enjoying the flustered reactions and darkening rosy color on Crowley’s cheeks. As Crowley continued to spoon-feed him, he let his mind mull over everything that’s happened since meeting Crowley. He felt positive Crowley’s nickname for him was an endearment. He may not be able to see his eyes behind those increasingly annoying shades, but his body language and the way it seems he has to hold himself back scream how he feels. Aziraphale may not know the true depth of Crowley’s emotions for him, but he’s certain that the ginger cares for him a great deal.

 

Aziraphale then started to examine his own emotions. He certainly feels drawn to Crowley, far more than he expected he would be. The more time he spends in Crowley’s presence, the more he realises that he doesn’t want to be apart. The thought of being away from Crowley now seemed to burn a hole inside him he didn’t know he had. Six months, Crowley said in the bookshop, for a promotion? Why doesn’t he remember working another job other than the bookshop, and why would he have to leave? Where was this other job and why hadn’t they called for him back yet? Surely, they’d want an update on where he was and how he was feeling, right? Something about this just doesn’t seem quite right. He wondered if Crowley knew what he did for a living and if that was something he could tell him.

He wondered then, did those letters have something to do with this job? Did he work somewhere dangerous? Crowley said his last letter to him scared him and that much was apparent in the way he moved and talked about it. Thinking about it clearly pained Crowley. He needed to know what those letters said, he also needed to know what he did to Crowley. Why was he so reluctant to help him? He held so many answers and only gave just a handful. You aren’t ready, a common phrase by now from almost everyone he talked to. Aziraphale needed to ask less specific questions. He needed to be clever about this if he wanted more answers. He’d get them from Crowley one way or another.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said with a smile once Crowley started to remove the tray from his lap. “For helping me... Even though you don’t want to be around me,” He whispered. The words made his chest ache in a different way from the pain he currently felt. Crowley tensed and sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. He removed the half drank tea from the tray and set it down carefully on the bedside table. He stood with the tray and quickly left the room again, without another word. His silence left something uncomfortably heavy in Aziraphale’s chest. His vision blurred and his eyes burned. Why did it hurt so much? Crowley came back a few minutes later with what Aziraphale recognized was his chest he was trying to open back at the bookshop. A grateful smile spread over his lips.

“Where do you want me to set this?” Crowley asked while looking anywhere but at him.

“Over by the closet, if you please” Crowley took long strides to the walk-in closet in the room and set down the heavy chest. Aziraphale’s eyes lingered on the curve of Crowley’s bent body, imagining his arms flexing from picking up and putting down the chest. He wouldn’t have guessed this lanky man having much physical strength, but he proved him so wrong.

 

Once Crowley straightened back up, he simply just stood there. Facing the wall in front of him. His head bowed down, his shoulders sagged and he let out a tired sigh. Aziraphale waited, sensing somehow that Crowley wanted to say something. As much as he wanted to ask more questions, the need to let Crowley speak first vastly out weighed his own burning need to know who he was before losing his memories. He wondered what else could possibly be bothering Crowley, wondered if he had his memories, would he have been able to help him in some way. “I wish I could answer all your questions” came the quiet reply. Crowley’s voice hoarse with regret and longing, “I will help you in any way I can right now if you’ll let me, but once you get your memories back, we need to talk. I have questions as well- so many questions” Aziraphale watched Crowley’s fist clench until his knuckles turned white. He desperately wanted to reach out and soothe him, coax those fingers free and massage those muscles to relax. The need to do something other than to lie there was unbearable.

“Promise me,” Aziraphale whispered. He wasn’t entirely sure of what he was asking for Crowley to promise, perhaps for him to not leave once he did remember or to just remain near, the need so strong he found it almost overwhelming.

Crowley turned to look at him, his brows high up to his hairline. He studied Aziraphale closely, his eyes burning Aziraphale’s body with their examination. Aziraphale felt his body shudder under the heavy gaze. Crowley slowly circled the bed, his hips swaying in that enticing way of his like a snake slithering, and then he stopped once his back was to the bedroom door. “Only if you promise me something.” Aziraphale did his best to give a nod, his head barely moving from its spot. “Promise me that you’ll never leave my side again. Not until you remember everything” (Crowley knows this isn’t fair to ask right now, but he needed something and he hoped Aziraphale remembered all of this later) Aziraphale’s breath caught, eyes widening in surprise. The asked promise was so heavy, layered with so much that Aziraphale didn’t quite understand at that moment. This was only proving more of what he suspected, but he still needed confirmation (Later).

“I promise“ His answer was almost as heavy. He felt it now, like a lock in his core. Something new and chained to this dark, beautiful creature before him.

Crowley shuddered at the response, taking a moment to himself before approaching the bed with less caution than before. He eyed the spot on the bed, then looked back at the chair where he had sat previously. It didn’t take long for him to come to a decision and slowly, carefully, lowering himself onto the bed’s edge. He kept his eyes on Aziraphale’s face until he fully sat down next to him. Aziraphale’s chest felt warm with delight. They sat together for a little while, unwilling to break the fragile moment between them. Aziraphale tried to move his hand again, more of his fingers moving still felt incredibly heavy. He felt thirsty and looked over at the tea longingly. Before he knew it, he saw Crowley’s hands shoot over and pick it up, held it to his lips and helped him drink it. Aziraphale drank it greedily. His throat felt more parched than before, for some inexplicable reason. Once he was done, he once again thanked Crowley for the help while he set it down. He turned to look at him then, his lips pressed thin in thought. He laid his hand next to Aziraphale’s, making Aziraphale wish to reach over and close that painstaking gap between their fingers. He keeps finding himself surprised by how Crowley keeps making him feel.

 

“You should get some more rest,” Aziraphale’s eyes shot back up to the man’s furrowed look. His soft voice once again catching him off guard. “Do you have another room I can stay in?”

“Oh, really, my dear, you don’t need to stay with me,” came the sudden response, “I’ll be right as rain later.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen. I’m staying with you until you feel better.” Crowley said with finality. Aziraphale found himself suddenly unworthy of this kind, sweet man. He felt warm knowing Crowley would still want to be here after all.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to disturb your routine-“ Crowley waved his hand dismissively.

“I’d feel better knowing you were taken care of.” Aziraphale smiled before yawning. The exhaustion swooping back in without him knowing it, his aching body screaming louder than it had been just a few minutes prior.

“Thank you again, my dear. Unfortunately, there’s only one other room- Adam’s room for when he stays here. Unless he allows it, there’s just the couch.”

“I’ll take the couch then.” Aziraphale proceeded to tell Crowley where he could find some spare blankets and pillows. Crowley then stood and stretched. His popping bones concerned Aziraphale just a bit. Crowley then helped him get more comfortable again, tucking him in and fluffing up his pillow again. He turned and told him that if he needed anything just holler before shutting the door behind him. Aziraphale listened to the receding steps before closing his eyes and letting the darkness take him within seconds.

Chapter 5: It's a Fretful Time

Summary:

There's a nightmare, breakfast, and a decision to finally make.

Something was wrong, Crowley could feel it. He felt out with his senses, but didn’t feel anyone nearby. Suddenly, he bolted upright and all but jumped off the couch when he heard Aziraphale’s distressed voice reach him downstairs. His scream motivated Crowley’s legs to move faster up the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom within seconds. He could hear Aziraphale’s sobs begging for something to stop. Crowley’s heart stopped and lodged in his throat. This was worse than the first time he heard Aziraphale crying out in his sleep. He burst through the door, eyes landing on the jerking body and thrashing head on the bed. “No, please!” Aziraphale cried, tears streaming down his face from behind closed eyelids. “Please don’t hurt my Crowley! I’ll do whatever you ask!” Crowley’s breathing stopped like all the air in his lungs was punched out. He never heard Aziraphale refer to him that way and only made him more confused. It hurt him to see Aziraphale in such a fitful state and wished to see what was causing him so much distress. He knew he could jump inside his head and see the nightmare for himself, but he’d prefer to have permission first.

He rushed to Aziraphale’s side and sat down on the bed next to him, unsure if he should touch. “Aziraphale?” He tried calling out. Aziraphale whimpered, pleading for whatever was happening to stop. “Aziraphale?!” Crowley called louder, desperation to wake the angel crawling into his voice, “Angel, wake up! It’s just a nightmare. Come back to me” Crowley’s hands moved to Aziraphale’s shoulders without his knowledge, gently shaking him.

“Crowley...” Aziraphale whimpered, his head turning away from him. Crowley gently cupped the angel’s face and turned his head back to face him.

“Aziraphale, come back to me,” He said, threading some Persuasion into his voice in hopes of reaching Aziraphale from within the dream realm, “Open your eyes and come back to me. You’re safe, I promise” Aziraphale’s eyes flew open startled. His slate-colored eyes more gray and clouded still in distress.

“Crowley?” He whispered in fearful hope, staring straight into Crowley’s eyes. Crowley nodded,

“Yeah, it’s me, angel” Crowley was thrown back, stunned by having a sudden armful of angel. Aziraphale clung to him tight, his fists gripping tightly into the back of Crowley’s designer black vest and his head buried in his shoulder. Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel tightly, one hand cradling the base of his skull while the other rubbed soothing circles into his back, rocking him side to side. He felt his shoulder dampen in tears and his heart broke all over again as Aziraphale’s body wracked with sobs. He’s rarely ever seen the angel so distressed and not once in their six millennia together had he ever lunged himself at Crowley like this. Always so careful to keep himself presentable and his emotions airtight, never wanting to appear “weak” as he’s heard Aziraphale refer to himself a couple times, parroting what the Archangels have called him. He realizes now that he still owes Gabriel a good beating for what he put Aziraphale through.

 

Slowly, Aziraphale’s sobs died down to an occasional hiccup. “Wanna talk about it?” Crowley asked quietly. He miracled up a tartan handkerchief without thinking about it, then cursed himself for it, hoping Aziraphale wouldn’t notice. He heard the angel sniff and felt him shake his head from where he hid.

“Can’t remember it now anyway” He whispered in a hoarse voice. Crowley pulled back but found that he couldn’t, Aziraphale clinging tighter than before. Crowley’s hand slid down from the base of the angel’s skull to his shoulder and lightly pushed. Aziraphale pulled back reluctantly and wiped his red-rimmed eyes. The former demon offered the kerchief and Aziraphale took it gratefully. He dabbed at his face and blew his nose. The angel looked at it with a grimace and Crowley took it from his loose hold.

“I’m gonna go get you some water” He reluctantly released Aziraphale fully, his body feeling cold and aching to remain, and turned to leave. A hand grabbed him, stopping him from taking a step away. Crowley looked down at the soft hand clinging to his bony wrist, then looked at Aziraphale, confused.

“Please,” He whispered with a broken voice, “Don’t go. Not yet” Crowley’s shoulders sagged, knowing he couldn’t leave the angel like this. He looked around and threw the kerchief away in a small bin next to the bedside table. He sat back down and opened up his arms again in invitation. Aziraphale, more cautiously this time, went to him and laid his head back on Crowley’s damp shoulder. “I’m sorry, I got your shirt all wet” Crowley huffed a breathy laugh,

“Sod the shirt. You feeling better?” He tentatively carded his fingers through the fine curls on the nape of Aziraphale’s neck, resuming his soothing circles on the angel’s back.

“A bit” He whispered, sighing, more relaxed. His hands now sitting loosely around his middle, Crowley could still feel the slight tremble in them through the fabric. “Your eyes are beautiful” Crowley stilled, which made Aziraphale still in turn. He forgot to grab his shades in his haste to get to Aziraphale. It took him a moment as well to remember that Aziraphale had no memories of him, meaning he also had no memories of what his eyes looked like.

 

Aziraphale had expressed before what he thought of Crowley’s eyes, but he never knew what to think of the comments. After all, his eyes were one of the things that marked him as Fallen. Aziraphale now, though, with no memory and therefore no filter in place, his comment struck a chord deep within Crowley. It shouldn’t have mattered, Aziraphale thinking they were both human, probably thought he had coloboma or something. It shouldn’t affect him so much. A million thoughts swirled within the Crowley’s mind, words warring to spill from his mouth, but all the articulate demon could say was, “Ngk!”

Aziraphale pulled back and looked at him, concern written all over his face as he searched Crowley’s revealing eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Y’ didn’t” He choked out, “Jussst wasn’t exspecting it.” Damn sibilant slipping.

“Is that why you hide them? Do people... not react well?” Crowley’s head tilted from side to side,

“Yes, and no. I’ve been told they’re... quite expressive” Aziraphale made a noise in agreement and nodded. The angel’s eyes staring into his with wonder and fascination. Crowley tried to not shift to broadcast how he was feeling by this.

“If... Uh” Aziraphale lowered his head and removed his hands from around Crowley. He watched as the angel twirled his ring around and around on his pinkie, “If you want, you don’t have to hide your eyes around me” Crowley’s chest warmed just like the first time Aziraphale told him he didn’t need to hide. He didn’t want to, still didn’t, but now he has different reasons to.

 

Before when offered, he didn’t want Aziraphale to see the reminder of who he was in the company of. Even when Aziraphale tried to assure him, that fear kept its tight hold on him, refusing him that level of vulnerability. He couldn’t be vulnerable. That always spelt disaster for him (removing them when drunk didn’t count in his mind). A couple of years of freedom couldn’t knock down 6,000 years of barriers. And when he finally allowed himself to really open up, revealing himself when it mattered, it was once again thrown back at him with a force that nearly broke him. Leaving him in unbearable pain worse than his Fall, but still not worse than when he thought he lost this ridiculous angel in that fire on That dreadful day. Now, though, now his reasons were to hide his feelings from Aziraphale. If this Aziraphale found out what he truly meant to him- he can’t tell him. He’d reopen his wounded heart again and to someone that wasn’t his angel. This was a mere shadow of the being he truly wished to talk to. 

Crowley closed his eyes, his exhale a shuddering thing. The only proof that he was trying to hold back his emotions. “I can’t…” He croaked out.

“Oh” Aziraphale stilled in disappointment. Crowley released him and opened his eyes to look outside. The morning sun barely risen saying it was still early. “Would...” Crowley refocused his attention on Aziraphale, “If you’re staying, would you like a tour of the cottage today?” Aziraphale looked up at him with brand new hope.

“Yesterday you could barely move.” Crowley reminded him. Yes, Aziraphale had more mobile function today, but he was still worried. He wasn’t sure how much pain the angel could be in still, and the bastard had a habit of hiding it.

“Yes, well, as you can see, I have more bodily motion today. Once I get some food in me, I’ll be feeling much better.” Crowley narrowed his eyes skeptically. He didn’t believe one bit Aziraphale would be right as rain as he says. The former demon ran his hand down his face, his exhaustion catching up to him once again. He’s barely slept since Aziraphale’s return and he could feel his mood prickling today.

“Fine, alright, what do ya want for breakfast?” That concerned furrow was back on Aziraphale’s face.

“My dear, are you alright?” The angel reached out and laid a hand on his upper arm. Crowley ignored the way it made him feel and answered sarcastically,

“Peachy” Aziraphale tutted at him.

“Why don’t you get some more rest up here and I’ll go make us some breakfast.” Crowley stopped Aziraphale from moving too far to the bed’s edge. Ignoring the invitation to lie down in this bed in favor of the latter of the offer.

“No, you rest, I go make breakfast”

“Crowley, you made me food last night and besides, you are a guest here and I’ve neglected hosting you for far too long.” Crowley bit back the growl that threatened to rise in his throat. The bloody angel and his stubborn manners sometimes.

“You have the right to not host anyone right now, angel. If you want to give me a tour, you have to stay in bed, let me take care of breakfast and ONLY when you feel like you again.” Aziraphale huffed in what almost sounded like fond annoyance, letting Crowley help him get comfortable again and tucking the blankets around him again.

“There’s really no need for all this fretting, Crowley”

“‘M not fretting” came the automatic response to whenever Aziraphale accused him of fretting. “I’ll be back in a bit” Not waiting for a reply, Crowley exited the room and made his way towards the kitchen.

 

The kitchen was a mixture of modern and old-fashion, a combination of what Crowley imagined him and Aziraphale would have. The first time he stepped into it last night, he was nearly overwhelmed with emotions. He took more time this morning to look around while he gathered his ingredients for a Full English breakfast. Most of the appliances were modern and looked recently used. He imagined Aziraphale hadn’t touched them until he started living here without his memories. Sleek silver with black trim surrounded by cherry-wood antique cabinets with marble countertops. Crowley knew if it was just for Aziraphale, the kitchen would look more rustic and old-fashioned. But the angel didn’t do this just for himself, did he? This was what Crowley imagined their kitchen together looking like, a dream he spouted during a few of their drunken sessions together, among other things. Crowley shook his head and didn’t think on it too hard. If he did, he wasn’t sure how he’d fully react.

Crowley focused on breakfast instead, making himself coffee from a tucked-away coffee maker (certainly not Aziraphale’s, since he didn’t like coffee) and preparing a cup of Earl Grey tea with milk for Aziraphale. Crowley had found the motions of cooking soothing after he got the hang of it, and it filled him with both warmth and anxiety. This was the first time he’d be cooking breakfast for the angel, something he’d been wanting to do for a long time. He only hoped Aziraphale would like it. Crowley pulled down plates, artfully put the poached eggs, bacon, sausage, a couple pieces of buttered toast, and mushrooms on the outside with the baked beans in the center next to the tomatoes and black pudding. He then put the two mugs on the tray and picked it up.

The former demon opened the bedroom door with his foot and shook his head when he saw Aziraphale sitting up. His legs swung over the edge of the bed and gripping his old, familiar-looking cane tightly. “Ya know, this defeats the purpose of having breakfast in bed.” Crowley teased with a smirk.\

“I wanted to grab some clothes to change into. I thought you’d be gone longer” Crowley stopped by the bed and arched an eyebrow above his sunglasses.

“Yeah well, ‘m back now, so get back in bed and have yer breakfast.” Aziraphale huffed, but did as he was told. After Aziraphale settled comfortably against his pillows, Crowley set the tray on his lap. He then retrieved his coffee from the tray and sat down in his chair next to the bed.

 

Aziraphale gasped in delight at the array before him, picking up his fork and debating on what to try first. Crowley took a sip, trying to act nonchalantly while waiting with bated breath for the judge to try his cooking. Finally deciding, Aziraphale carefully cut into one of the eggs, took a piece and brought it to his lips. Crowley tried to remain still, watching Aziraphale chew the piece slowly in thought. He hummed appreciatively and pointed with his fork, “This is really good” Crowley released his breath before schooling his features and taking another sip of coffee.

“Glad ya like it”

“Did you make some for yourself?”

“No, breakfasts aren’t really my thing” Aziraphale tutted, picking up a piece of toast and offering it to Crowley. He refused, but the angel used the one weapon Crowley could never refuse. He pouted, his bottom lip sticking out and his eyes big and pleading.

“Please? It would be wrong to cook it and not to at least have some of it yourself.” Crowley sighed and snatched the toast. There was a reason he didn’t eat often, only a few foods he could eat, really. Toast wasn’t one of them, but he wouldn’t tell Aziraphale that. He bit into it, even with the butter Crowley couldn’t taste much of anything. It was bland and tasteless, just like a lot of foods. He normally would have to add something else to it in order to taste anything, but at least the crunch was satisfying. It was also a good excuse to not talk and just appreciate having Aziraphale back and safe, even if it was only for the moment. He could also think of what he wanted to say.

 

Though he was curious and really wanted to see more of the cottage, he wanted to see it with the angel he knew, not this person. He wanted the angel who he could tease for his choices in whatever curtains he chose, who he could reminisce with about the cottage’s past, the angel who would understand his reactions to what he was experiencing. This Aziraphale wouldn’t understand why he would feel overwhelmed by what he saw in the kitchen, why he would want to hug him and feel- well, the point is he wouldn’t understand. He needed his Aziraphale back, but would he really want his memories returned if it’d also bring back pain? Raphael was insistent that he wait just until he found Gabriel, but would Gabriel really help? He better help, Crowley thought with a snarl, or else I’ll hunt him down and burn him this time.

“Something wrong, Crowley?” Crowley’s eyes shifted to see Aziraphale looking at him, concerned. The former demon finished off his coffee and noted that Aziraphale finished his breakfast, now sipping his tea.

“Nothing, just thinking.” He got up from his chair and went back to the bathroom to retrieve the pills from the cabinet. He opened it and poured two capsules in his hand and put the bottle back next to the other one. Crowley saw it the day before, but didn’t bother looking too closely. Now that he wasn’t in such a rush, he picked the bottle up and read the label. However, when he turned it more, all he could read was ‘suppressants’. The rest of the label had been torn off. Just like the other bottle, it reeked of Heaven, so it must’ve been more medicine from Raphael. But what was it for? Raphael never mentioned these pills and all the instructions said were to take once a week.

Crowley put the pill bottle back and closed the mirror cabinet door. He’d have to ask Aziraphale if he remembered. He returned to Aziraphale and traded him the pills for the tray. Aziraphale thanked him and took them without hesitation. “Hey uh,” Crowley pointed behind him towards the bathroom, “Saw another bottle in there. Didn’t know if ya needed to take them, so I left them, but I was curious about what they were for.” Aziraphale opened his mouth then shut it, a confused expression overtaking his features.

“Actually, I’m not sure myself” His lips thinned and he thought hard. Crowley shrugged to appear not affected, but he was quite curious. He knew it had nothing to do with his weight. Aziraphale still looked the same as he did before he left, which made him rather happy. He seethed whenever Aziraphale dropped a negative comment about his corporation and he wanted more than anything to burn Gabriel when he heard he told the angel to ‘lose the gut’.

 

Crowley took the tray back downstairs and washed the dishes. It gave him something to do while he thought of a reason to leave for a while. He couldn’t avoid it anymore. He needed to know what the feather held for him. As much as he didn’t want to leave right now, he couldn’t help if he didn’t know what he was up against. Maybe he could bring something back for Aziraphale as well? An excuse to check on his plants might do the trick, but was it really safe to leave right now? Aziraphale was still hurting, his body radiated thick with pain. It wasn’t as bad as yesterday, thankfully, but it still wasn’t ideal to just leave him. Crowley hung his head after putting the last clean dish in the drying rack. He couldn’t continue on like this. He needed time, and he needed to know what that feather held. He just needed to find a way to tell Aziraphale he needed to go out for a bit and keep him here.

When the former demon entered the bedroom again, Aziraphale was up and dressed. He leaned heavily on a cane Crowley finally recognized from the Regency Era. His brows pinched together in pain, but once he saw Crowley he tried to hold himself the way he always did when he wasn’t in pain. His smile was tight, but still showed warmth. “Hello, my dear. Are you ready for that tour?”

“Uhm,” Crowley already felt like an arse for what he was about to do, “Actually, I need to step out right now and go take care of my plants quick.”

“Oh,” The smile disappeared and Aziraphale lowered his eyes despondently. He blinked it away and gave a small smile, “Well, that’s alright. I can give you the tour when you return- if that is you want to?”

“Of course I’m coming back, wouldn’t do to leave you alone for too long. Who knows what kind of trouble you could get yourself into,” Crowley teased, “Would you like me to bring something back for you? A book from the bookshop you don’t have, a pastry of some kind?”

“I don’t get into any trouble, thank you very much,” Aziraphale huffed, trying to look offended and failing.

 

“Sure you don’t,” Crowley replied, amused, “Anything you want?” Aziraphale shook his head.

“No, thank you. I have everything I want for now.”

“M’kay,” Crowley nodded, already going through pastry options to bring back for the angel. “I left my number next to the phone just in case you need anything. I’ll be back in a couple hours, don’t overexert yerself while I’m gone or I’ll be very cross” Crowley pointed and glared.

“Of course, my dear.” Crowley narrowed his eyes and continued to glare until he was fully out of the room. He bundled back up in his thick black coat and went out into the frigid cold weather. He wasted no time getting to the Bentley and blasting the heater. She blared Queen’s ‘I’m Going Slightly Mad’, much to Crowley’s annoyance.

“Ya really know how to pick ‘im, don’t ya?” The Bentley rumbled in response. She had been worried about Aziraphale and drove faster than even Crowley tended to push her to the cottage. He shifted gears and made his way back to London.

Notes:

I think I'm starting to get the hang of Aziraphale's character- granted he's an amnesiac who thinks he's human right now, but hey, it's something. This week, I want to post either another chapter or the promised epilogue once I get it finished. I did start it, but am now having a bit of difficulty finishing it. I’m probably overthinking how I want it to go from where I left off again- seriously 1 of my biggest issues as to why things take so long. Anywho, hope ya enjoyed this chapter and have a wonderful day/night!

Chapter 6: Trust N' Truths

Summary:

Crowley looks into the feather, gets a visit from Shax, and learns a bit more from Raphael.

Notes:

Happy (late) New Year everyone! This week has been crazy busy with work and things, so I do apologize for that late-ish chapter. 1 more chapter and then we're all caught up to where I'm currently at with this story. This one took quite a bit to write because Aziraphale's message just didn't seem complete to me (then again, it really isn't) so, I hope it satisfies!

TW; There's a couple F-bombs

It didn’t take long for Crowley to get back to his flat. It took him even less time to water and threaten his plants. His heart wasn’t entirely in it at the moment, and they could tell. Instead of shaking with fear, leaves reached out to him and he could only growl. If plants could look unimpressed by his intimidation tactics, these ones did. He threw his mister back onto the counter and stomped out of the plant room. The former demon collapsed into his red-cushioned, over-the-top throne, scowling. He’d been stalling, he knew he was stalling. He thought he was finally ready to look and see what Aziraphale had left behind, but instead he went straight to the plant room and tried to threaten his plants. Instead of yelling at them and releasing his emotions, he grumbled and misted. His plants even looked up to his standards for once, which left him beside himself. How could he yell and threaten his plants when they were, for once, being up to his standards?

He took the white feather out of his pocket and glared at it. The last gift from Aziraphale and the last letter- or so the last letter he read from the angel said. He watched as the Holy and Unholy magic twirled and danced around the feather like he had every time he felt lost. This time, though, he knew what he had to do, and he felt too open in his office. He got up from his throne and quickly went to his room, where no one could contact him unexpectedly. His room was dark, only one lamp on his black bedside table sat within the room. Large floor to ceiling windows, a closet and a door to the bathroom mostly took his room up. The windows were all covered by blackout curtains. No light entered his bedroom and almost gave him the feeling of being inside a cave.

 

He sat down on the large bed and closely watched the entrancing magic dance again. He had removed his sunglasses the minute he entered the flat and so could see every detail of magic more clearly. The Holy magic glowing a bright yellow, almost white, swirled and gave off soft orbs that faded away while the Unholy magic was a dark purple, almost black, swirled around and reached out tendrils that looked like they were trying to catch the fading orbs. Crowley found it hypnotizing to watch, two magics not seeking to destroy the other, but working to protect what they held within. Like him and Aziraphale, a stray thought echoed. He blinked it away and let the feather lay gently in his palm. He drew in a deep breath and commanded, “Show me”

Both magics dove into the feather, the quill turning black, flowing into the veins before fading to white. The feather gave off a soft glow and floated up. Before he knew it, he saw a projection of Aziraphale- or rather; he was the one being projected. Crowley found himself standing in a dark office in where he assumed to be Heaven, which was quite strange. He’d thought it’d be white just like the rest, but the space he found himself in was closed off from the rest of Heaven. It felt personal in a way; the desk was made of glass and the chair looked very uncomfortable, but there were things on the desk that drew his attention. Aside from Heavenly documents and papers, there was a mini model of the Bentley and a picture of him and Crowley looking out at the duck pond back in the 1800s. Crowley’s breath caught at the reminders. He hadn’t expected Aziraphale to have a picture of them, nor any momentos at all up in Heaven. They were dangerous things to keep so blatantly out in the open for anyone to see. Further proof of their association together, but he supposed Heaven didn’t care anymore since they already knew.

 

As he thought this, he saw Aziraphale standing next to the door, ensure it was locked, and walk to the desk. He stood next to it, then turned to look in Crowley’s direction. Crowley could see the fear and regret in the angel’s sunken gray eyes. His hands ringing together in front of him looked dry and almost red with white knuckles. There were stress lines all over his face, making the angel look his immortal age, and his usual fluffy hair standing out all over the place. It was the worst Crowley had ever seen him. “Crowley,“ Aziraphale sounded hoarse and breathless, like he was on the verge of crying, “I’m so sorry. I wish I could tell you everything, but I suppose this will have to do if-“ the angel’s eyes shut tight, holding back tears that threatened to spill over. He opened them again and Crowley could see his eyes were red and it pulled at his heartstrings. “Please understand that what I’ve done here was for us. There was a point in time I wanted to make Heaven better for you, wanted it to be deserving of you, but after what happened during Armageddon-“ Aziraphale hiccuped, his voice was thick with emotion.

        “After what we’ve been through, I knew there was no fixing it. Even if there was, you’d never want to come back, and I knew that. After all, why would you? You were right Crowley, the angel I knew before is not you, because you are so much better than him. I wanted to give you back your stars, I still do. You were so happy then, Crowley, but this isn’t the way to do that. I know that, have for a very long time, actually. Crowley, please understand that all I’ve ever wanted was to keep you safe, be an Us like we- you wanted... When the Metatron and I spoke- Crowley, I was trying to warn you! Clearly, I messed that up quite terribly, but I hope to fix it. After you k-“ Aziraphale’s breath shuddered, bringing his fingers up to his lips. Crowley felt tears prickle at his eyes, but refused to let them fall. He needed to know. Needed to finish seeing what the angel left for him.

        “My dear, I forgave you, not because I was repulsed, but it wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t safe. However, I wish to thank you as well. It’s helped me remember what I have been fighting for.” Aziraphale looked towards the door. There was a muffled sound approaching and Aziraphale’s breath quickened in distress. He looked back in Crowley’s direction. “I intend to seize the Book of Life so it can never be used against you again, Crowley. I will not let them destroy the Earth, destroy you... My Crowley” Crowley’s breath hitched, which was not helping the fact that he was barely breathing to begin with.

        “I hope to see you again and if I don’t- please live on,” He whispered. “I will do all that I can to come back to you and... I hope you’ll be willing to see me again. There is still so much to discuss-“ There was knocking on the door now, someone calling for Aziraphale and telling him it was time. “Please, continue to put your trust in me. Remember my gift to you- Oh, I so hope you found it in your pocket. You do rather have a tendency to forget things are inside them.” Aziraphale’s breathing picked up, stressing over something Crowley was unsure of. The angel shook his head and looked back into where Crowley’s eyes were with unshed tears. “Stay safe, mon étoile” The world around Crowley shifted back to his bedroom, and the feather floated down into his open hand. He whispered those last words so quietly that Crowley, were he human, would have missed them. They burned a brand inside of his mind, overwhelming him with so many emotions. He wanted to scream and shake the angel for even thinking he’d disappear, for risking his existence without talking to Crowley first and leaving him with a message with no means of communicating back a reply even if he did see them the times they appeared in the bookshop. Different reasons now fueled his anger.

 

He now knew the truth, the full reason why Aziraphale stayed and even some of his feelings for him. Crowley pulled at his hair and tried to control his breathing through gritted teeth. It wasn’t fair! Yes, he and Aziraphale definitely needed to talk now. Aziraphale! Crowley jumped up on his feet and stuffed the feather back into his pocket. He needed to get back to the angel and make sure he was still safe. The former demon could finish processing the rest of Aziraphale’s last words about this mystery gift he left later. He quickly grabbed his sunglasses from the kitchen counter, shoved them on his face and raced out the front door like Hell was on his heels. Crowley ignored the lift and practically jumped down the steps to the ground floor, faster than if he did take the lift. He burst through the front doors of the building and was immediately greeted by a demon in a familiar red dress and hat.

“Shax!” Crowley halted and cleared his throat. Trying his best to appear not in a rush like he had a moment ago, “What’s up?” Try to play it cool, he repeated like a mantra. She raised an eyebrow.

“In a hurry somewhere?”

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?” He didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t give away anything. He didn’t know why Hell wanted Aziraphale, but he could probably make a few guesses.

“Why don’t you give up Aziraphale? He abandoned you the minute he was offered a promotion.” That comment would probably have left a sting if he hadn’t seen Aziraphale’s last message.

“I told you, I don’t know where he is,” Crowley lied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have places to be.” He shoved past her and walked over to his car at a more leisurely pace. Shax followed quickly behind him.

“Like where? I thought being free meant you didn’t have anywhere to be.” She was genuinely confused. Crowley rolled his eyes along with his whole head.

“Just because I don’t work for Hell anymore doesn’t mean I don’t have places to be anymore. I do do things, Shax.”

“I’m curious about what an unbound demon does on Earth.”

“There’s plenty to do. Ya just have to be creative.” He opened the Bentley’s door and turned towards her, making a shoo gesture at her. “Now shoo, I don’t have time to entertain you, today or... ever” He gave one last mocking smile and got inside the vintage car. Shax lowered herself to the window and glared at him.

 

“I will find him, Crowley. Just like I found Gabriel and this time, I will succeed. Just remember, I’m not the only one looking for him.”

“Right, and who else is looking for him?” It was a rhetorical question, but she still answered it. However, it wasn’t an answer he was expecting.

“Hastur”

“Hastur?” His voice raised up in octave, genuine fear leaking through. He hadn’t heard about him for nearly six years and almost forgot he existed. Once Shax took over Crowley’s old job, she became his new annoyance. She smiled then, her pointy teeth showing and her eyes filled with glee.

“Oh yes, there’s a bit of a race going on in Hell right now. Whoever finds the Supreme Archangel first gets to do whatever they want to him before presenting him to our Dark Lord and Master.” She sounded downright giddy by the prospect.

“Who else is hunting him?” Crowley asked, trying to sound curious and not like he was panicking at the prospect of several demons hunting for Aziraphale. Heaven was already a pain to deal with, but with Hell on the prowl as well- it didn’t bode well for them.

“Interested in joining?”

“Not in the slightest, jus’ wanna know who alls gonna be lurking about. Got some beef to pick with some of them down there.”

“Some beef?” Crowley shook his head at her lack of understanding.

“Nevermind, names?”

 

“Very well,” She replied, her eyes looking about as she thought, “Eric and a few other lowly demons have teamed up together. Dagon would have joined, but she’s currently doing paperwork. She’s been tearing into everyone ever since Lord Beelzebub left” Crowley cringed, he felt a little sorry for Dagon. They weren’t always on good terms, but she left him alone most of the time since he always turned his reports in on time. She was the only one he tolerated, really. He’s seen what Dagon did to those who were late, and it was just best to take care of the reports when they were due. “And, word has it that Barbatos has joined as well” Crowley’s heart stopped and dropped to his stomach. He has never worked with the demon, but he’s heard stories of his hunting skills. It was said Robin Hood was inspired by him. If he was joining this little hunting game, they were in big trouble. He’d rather take his chances with the Archangel Raphael than Hastur and the rest of these demons.

“Great, thanks for the heads up.” Without waiting, he started the vehicle and felt Shax’s presence vanish. He sped towards the closest bakery to pick up Aziraphale’s favorite pastries and searched for Raphael’s number. He would have preferred to go back to the cottage straightaway, but he needed time to talk to Raphael first. If he needed to trust someone, he’d have to trust this Archangel. Crowley quickly paid for the treats and was walking out the door with the bag in hand when Raphael finally picked up.

“Crowley, how’d you get my number?”

“That’s not important right now. I’ve got some news that’s about to complicate things, but before I give it to you, I need to make something absolutely clear. I don’t trust you nor anyone from Heaven, but ye’re the closest thing to an ally I have right now so, I need your word that I won’t regret trusting you with this.” A ringing had sounded in the air and Crowley spotted Raphael beside the Bentley. Raphael looked irritated and exhausted with his arms crossed over his chest.

“I give you my word, Crowley, that you can trust me and I mean neither you nor Aziraphale any harm. My only wish is to help you.” Crowley hung up his now useless phone and nodded.

“Good”

 

Crowley told Raphael about Hell and the hunt. He didn’t look particularly surprised, but his face was grim with the news, regardless. Raphael then updated Crowley about his end. They had found Gabriel and planned to stop by the cottage within a couple of days. They would need time to gather supplies to use for the circle Gabriel would need to use to release Aziraphale of the Archangel position and hopefully not cause further damage. “And his memories will return to him afterwards, right?” They were speeding down the M25 back towards the cottage, Raphael clutching the inside of the Bentley, but not as uptight as Aziraphale normally was.

“Actually, we’ll need to return his memories first, and that will take some time. Right now, we need to unlock everything inside his mind, so to speak.

“How long will that take?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never had to lock away so much before. This is a completely unique case, and it needs to be treated delicately.”

“Of course it’s a fucking unique case. Everything about what we’re doing is a fucking unique case! It jusst couldn’t be like stopping the end of the world the first time, could it?!” Crowley screamed, swerving around a slower vehicle and whipping back into the correct lane before he hit an oncoming car that honked at him. Aziraphale would have screamed if he were with him, something Crowley missed.

 

“If it makes you feel better, you don’t have to deal with the Antichrist this time.”

“No, this time we have Jesus and instead of trying to find him, we have to make sure he ISN’T found, right?”

“One thing at a time, Crowley. We need to help Aziraphale and not let him get found by Heaven and Hell”

“Yeah yeah, right. There isn’t a time limit on any of this, is there?”

“Thankfully no. Without the documents to the Second Coming, no one has to worry about being on schedule for something they can’t plan. That’s why the Metatron wants to find Aziraphale. If he finds him, this will all be for nothing. It’s thanks to him, the Metatron hasn’t suspected the others and myself yet.”

Of course Aziraphale found a way to protect them. His stupid, bloody angel was a genius with a damn big heart at that. “He’s a Principality, ‘t’s what he does” Raphael didn’t comment. His silence left Crowley confused. The former demon looked over to see him looking out the windshield ahead. “There’s something you aren’t telling me, isn’t there?”

“I’m sworn to silence on the matter, Crowley”

“Raphael” Crowley growled. The Archangel pulled his Heavenly device out and looked down at it.

“I’m sorry, Crowley, but I must go” Without further warning, he was gone. Crowley growled in frustration and sped faster towards the cottage. So much has happened since Aziraphale came back and instead of slowing down, the chaos has only picked up the pace. The Earth wasn’t in danger anymore, but their lives once again hung in the balance. Aziraphale’s more than his own, but he wasn’t going to let Aziraphale go down alone. He wasn’t ever going to let the angel go again. He wasn’t going to leave his angel alone ever again, not unless he asked him to do it without influence.

Notes:

Yeaaaa, someone should probably take away my "Problems to potentially add" List XD... I'm not apologizing.

Chapter 7: Flashes

Summary:

Aziraphale remembers something. Crowley tells him some important news.

Aziraphale had been comfortably reading in his armchair when he heard a car pull up and screech to a halt outside the cottage. He recognized it as the lovely Bentley Crowley drives and immediately felt a smile bloom on his face. He grabbed his cane from beside his armchair and slowly got up, his shoulders, lower back and leg protesting at the movement. He slowly made his way to the front door before it burst open and cold air rushed into the warm cottage. He shivered and was about to scold Crowley for his lack of manners, but after seeing the tension in how the ginger held himself he found he couldn’t. Worry suddenly overwhelmed the white-blonde. Had something happened while Crowley was out?

Crowley’s shoulders sagged in relief once he saw Aziraphale, one of his hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Aziraphale couldn’t see them, but he could feel Crowley’s eyes roaming over him. His head tilted slightly down and was looking at the cane Aziraphale was leaning heavily on. Crowley’s brow twitched up, but he remained silent. “Everything alright, dear?” Aziraphale asked, needing to be sure Crowley was truly alright. The thought that something could have happened while he was out filled his insides with pure dread. The ginger looked back up at him and shrugged, using his foot to shut the door behind him.

“Just fine,” He then lifted the hand holding a paper bag and wiggled it enticingly, “Brought you some favourites” Aziraphale’s cheeks warmed and a smile grew wide across his face. He didn’t know who’s favourites Crowley meant, but the thought warmed his insides, nonetheless.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Crowley took long strides towards Aziraphale and slowly walked him back to his armchair.

“I know, but I wanted to” The softness in his voice gave Aziraphale pause. Something has changed, and it made him suspicious.

“Well, thank you so much. I suppose some tea will be needed-“

“On it” And like that, Crowley had disappeared into the kitchen. Aziraphale walked as fast as his body allowed him with the pain he was in. He set the bag down on the dining table and entered the kitchen to see Crowley moving fluidly from one place to the other.

Aziraphale watched mesmerized, seeing the ginger in the kitchen felt right to him. His stomach burst with warm flutters and everything seemed to alight. It was then he heard echoes of his past self echo inside his head;

 

“Really, my dear,” His voice chided.

“No, really!” A familiar drunken voice slurred with a giddiness he felt rarely familiar with. “It’d be the perfect place! ‘Sss ssecluded ‘n hasss ssso much sspace n’....” Crowley trailed off in thought. His head bobbing like one of those bobble heads, his fingers tapping his wine glass before raising it up with his index finger extended and pointing at Aziraphale, “DUCKS!”

“Ducks?”

“Could h’ve a pond for the little blights. Vissit them an’... stuff” Aziraphale hummed in a drunken agreement at the idea. 

They had been discussing the cottage since its construction. Crowley had watched the workers from afar, and after a gruesome battle during King Arthur’s reign, he and Aziraphale had made their way there. The raids forced the previous occupants to flee the area, leaving it abandoned. They tended to each other’s wounds there, and it was the place Aziraphale finally agreed to the Arrangement. Ever since then, on drunken nights where both needed to just forget the world outside, the dream of the cottage would emerge. They would talk about it for hours, mostly Crowley, until something would bring them back to reality and they had to part ways. Once parted, Aziraphale would pull out a hidden journal specifically for the cottage. He’d write down all of Crowley’s ideas and let himself indulge in the dream that maybe one day, they could have this. Of course, Aziraphale never truly believed they would. It was just a pipe dream, after all. But, oh, what a dream it would be.

Aziraphale gave his best smile in his drunken state and topped off his lovely companion’s wine glass. He would give Crowley anything he needed, even if it was all only talk in the end. “That sounds like a lovely idea.”

 

“Aziraphale!” The white-blonde blinked to find himself sitting on the couch, Crowley crouched in front of him, his brow furrowed and the tension in his lithe frame was back. Aziraphale’s head felt light and was pounding at the same time, making him feel all the more dizzy. “You with me, angel?” Crowley asked, his voice filled with worry. Aziraphale felt guilty for making him worry so much. He nodded, but immediately regretted the action. “What d’ya need? Medicine?” Without waiting for an answer, Crowley stood up and turned away. Panicking, Aziraphale reached out and grabbed his skinny wrist.

Crowley turned and looked down at Aziraphale, practically radiating with deep concern. “Wait, please” Aziraphale breathed out. He didn’t know why he didn’t want to be alone, he just couldn’t handle the idea right now. He knew he should let Crowley get his pills, but for once he didn’t feel on the verge of passing out. Strangely enough, he felt okay with not taking them for once. Any time he took his pills, whatever brought on the episodes would vanish and he feared that if he took the pills, this memory- if that’s what it was, it sure felt like one- would vanish. He wanted to remember this, desperately keeping his grip on the flashbacks, when all it seemed to want to do was slip away. He wouldn’t let it happen, not this time. He needed something to hold onto, especially since Crowley was involved. It was his one link to this being he didn’t want to be separated from. Something that felt real for once.

Crowley sat down next to him and Aziraphale eased his grip on his wrist. Crowley tilted his head, “Ok, but the minute I see something wrong, I’m goin’ to get your medicine. I don’t want you in pain.” Aziraphale gave a watery smile, touched by this being’s kindness.
“Thank you” Crowley dismissed his thanks just like all the other times.
“Don’t, just doin’ what anyone else would do.” Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s wrist in silent thanks and removed his hand. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and pressed his fingers against his temple, hoping the pressure would help alleviate some of the pain. It barely helped. He cracked open one eye and looked at Crowley. Perhaps if he asked about what he saw, Crowley will answer him.

“Might I ask some questions?” Crowley shrugged and leaned back into the couch, his head tilted up towards the ceiling.

“Ask away. Big question fan, me”

“Do you remember talking about a cottage?” Crowley’s head whipped towards Aziraphale, but stayed silent. Aziraphale elaborated, “I think I just saw a memory of us- quite drunk it would seem- talking about a cottage. A place to get away from everything.” Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile at this next part he was about to say, “You were talking about having a duck pond” Aziraphale turned his head more towards Crowley. The ginger had shifted his body more towards him as well, leaning more on his elbow that was propped up against the couch’s back. His expression was completely unreadable to Aziraphale.

 

“You remember that?” Crowley asked in a small, hopeful voice. There was something else there as well, almost sounding like disbelief, but in a different way. “What else do you remember?” Was immediately rushed out, his upper body now leaning more towards Aziraphale. The white-blonde blushed at their closer proximity and found his brain halted in anything else he would have said. Crowley, realizing how close he now was, cleared his throat and scooched back to where he was before. He tried to come off as nonchalant, pretending that nothing had just happened. He nodded his head, “Yeah, we always drank when we talked about-“ He waved his hand around the air, “this place. I think you only indulged me because...” Crowley sighed. He didn’t finish the sentence, so started another, “You were always so afraid. I never understood completely why. After all, your side only ever sent rude notes.” Crowley said bitterly.

“What do you mean ‘my side’? Are you referring to my other job?” Crowley’s body tensed up, nodding after a bit of time. He gulped,

“Yeah, where you worked... T’was a very toxic place, but you couldn’t leave.” Aziraphale could tell there was more Crowley wanted to say, but it seemed he was biting his tongue and keeping it inside. He digested the information. It seemed to make sense in a way. What Crowley had told him sounded right, but why would that affect where he lived? That’s when what the other part Crowley said clicked in. “This place? Crowley,” Aziraphale reached out and grasped one of Crowley’s hands in his, catching him by surprise, “Are you saying this cottage was a dream of yours?”

Crowley didn’t need to answer. As soon as the question left Aziraphale’s lips, he knew deep down what the answer was. This cottage wasn’t inherited after all, but the fact he bought this cottage still didn’t sit right. It felt like a puzzle piece that didn’t even belong in the picture, but why was that? A whistle from the teakettle in the kitchen caught both beings off guard. Aziraphale felt Crowley tense beside him before letting out a breath of air. He stood and left the room in a hurry. Aziraphale scooped up his cane and quickly followed after him. By the time he reached the small wooden table, he felt out of breath and still quite dizzy. Crowley finished pouring tea in his cup and turned once he heard Aziraphale close. He shook his head disapprovingly, “You should’ve stayed where you were.” Aziraphale sat down in the chair with a heavy ‘oomph’ and closed his eyes, hoping it would dispel the dizziness some.

 

A clunk on the table and the sound of a chair moving beside him had him opening his eyes again. In front of him sat a cup of steaming tea; he then noticed Crowley sitting—or more accurately, slumped like a stuffed toy—beside him. He truly was a gorgeous being. The white-blonde wondered how he would look against a clear sunset, his hair glowing like flames, his eyes uncovered and possibly glowing in that eerily beautiful way they seem to do- he shook his head only slightly to try and dispel such thoughts. Now was not the time to be thinking of such things! He tried again to focus on the conversation they had; Crowley knew where he worked and it was clear that the other person that he’d been missing was right next to him. He found himself wondering, once again, what their relationship to each other was. Were they truly just friends or, perhaps, something more?

He stretched his shaky hand to his teacup and carefully lifted it to his lips in thought. Perhaps there was some truth to what Crowley said before, perhaps they weren’t anything to each other because they never got the chance to be anything more. Would there possibly be a chance after he got his memories back? He may not remember Crowley, but he’s become more certain about how he feels about him. His feelings certainly go far deeper than simple friendship. There’s an aching longing, his heart beats out of rhythm every time he sees Crowley, a feeling of warmth and what feels like safety when he’s near, a smile he can no longer fight back when the ginger does something terribly sweet for him, and so much more he still has yet to experience -again- that he knows will make him want to swoon. However, that brings on that darn question again. Does Crowley feel the same way? Does he have the same feelings Aziraphale does when he sees him? What is he to Crowley?

 

Questions that shouldn’t matter right now. Later, when he has memories again if they truly never did talk about it. For now, there are more important things to discuss. “So,” He put down his cup and folded his hands on the table, attention fully on Crowley, “You said my work was toxic. Does that mean you know who I worked for?” Crowley puffed his cheeks and blew.
“Yeah. Can’t tell you where, mind, but I’m familiar with the place. Wonderin’ why they haven’t contacted you?” Aziraphale nodded. “In a sense, they know what’s going on. Raphael- your doctor, that is- works there too. ‘Part of the medical team, he is. He was... helping you before yer-“ Crowley waved his hand around his head.

“Ah,” Aziraphale acknowledged, taking in the new information. He and Dr. Raph -or Raphael, apparently- worked for the same people. He wondered why the doctor had never mentioned anything before. Although it sounded right, it made him suspicious now. Was his doctor hiding something, too?

“Yeah- also, ran into him today. Said he’ll be stopping by in a couple days with... someone else who used to work for yer lot.” Aziraphale blinked, a swell of anxiety rising in his chest.
“Do you know who he’s bringing with?” Crowley tilted his head to the side, remaining silent for a few more moments before deciding to answer.

“Good Ol’ Gabriel” He said with little enthusiasm. The name brought a mixture of fear and more anxiety within the white-blonde. His hands shook a bit more violently, his breaths shallow, and his skin prickled uncomfortably. “Aziraphale?” Crowley’s voice sounded underwater. Why was everything beginning to blur and darken? The blurry body before him scooted closer and waved a hand in front of his face. He grasped it quickly, the contact grounding as the world slowly came back to him. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, taking in deeper gulps of breath and letting them out slowly. There was no reason to panic. This... this was a good thing, wasn’t it? So why didn’t it feel like a good thing?

 

He forced his mind to quiet, inhaling and trying to distinguish what he was smelling; his barely touched tea, wood smoke and Crowley’s cologne that made him think of cinnamon. He drew in another deep breath before opening his eyes again to see that distressingly familiar furrowed brow. Guilt, once again, gnawed at Aziraphale’s insides. He really ought to stop worrying the poor dear so much. It wasn’t good for either of them. He needed to be better than this!

“Forgive me, dear fellow. I didn’t mean to react in such a terrible way”

“Hey, I’d react badly too if I were in yer shoes. Didn’t think hearing his name would give you such a bad reaction, though. Not with the whole amnesia thing right now.”

“Is my reaction a familiar one to hearing his name?” Crowley squeezed his hand comfortingly and shrugged.

“Sometimes, normally, you’d act as if it never bothered you. I could always see he scared you sometimes, though. He was always such an arsehole,” Crowley hissed. “But you don’t need to worry. I’ll be here- if you want me to be-“

“I do.” the white-blonde said without hesitation. He didn’t want to be alone when they showed up for whatever the reason would be. He didn’t dare think about how he would react if he had to be alone with them. The ginger squeezed his hand again and Aziraphale let him go. He watched his companion stand and take his now cold tea back into the kitchen. He despaired for the waste. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry for letting it go cold.”

 

“Don’t worry, angel. Can heat it up for you in a jiffy.” Crowley grabbed a saucepan from a cabinet and poured the tea into it, putting it on low heat and stirring it. “You need help to get back to the couch or up to yer room? You really should get some rest. Hardly think you’ve enjoyed today since waking up”

“I will be just fine, thank you. I do need to check my inventory, however. I need to make a grocery list and go into town tomorrow if I am to have more guests.” Crowley tensed.

“Oh no, you aren’t leaving this house until those two wankers show up.”

“Crowley, that is very rude and you cannot stop me from leaving. I know you’re worried, but I cannot stay in this cottage for the rest of my recovery. There are things that need to be done.”

“Fine," Crowley relented through gritted teeth, "Make your list, but I’m taking you and won't be leaving your side until you are safely back here, capiche?” Aziraphale rolled his eyes and tutted,

“My dear, I’ve been doing this ever since I was able to move on my own again. I will accept your offer if it makes you feel better, but I will not allow you to hover over me like an injured bird. I am an adult and know my own limits”

“Oh, you know your own limits alright,” Crowley answered while pouring the tea back into his cup. Once he was done, he picked it back up and walked back over to the table with it. “But you also have a tendency to continue passed them. Angel, don’t you forget I’ve known you for a very long time. Rarely, anything gets past me anymore”

“The key word there is ‘rarely’. Meaning, some things still do. However, I shall promise not to go past my limits tomorrow to not have you worry so” Crowley levelled him with a skeptical look. Aziraphale simply lifted his now rewarmed tea to his lips and sipped, hiding the smile on his face.

Notes:

This is the last chapter I have for the moment unfortunately. Work is gonna get crazy busy so it'll be a while til the next chapter comes out so I do apologize. However, things are about to get... intense. I hope you all are enjoying this story so far! Have a lovely day/night!

Chapter 8: Some Lowkey Trouble

Summary:

Aziraphale and Crowley leave the cottage to go to the village. It seems they aren't the only ones out and about.

The angel had just turned from having a conversation with one of the scriveners when he came face-to-face with Michael and Uriel. Raphael lifted his chin higher and raised an eyebrow. “Michael, Uriel.” He greeted, keeping his face entirely neutral. They looked at him coolly, regarding him with that same cold expression they did everyone. Michael’s eyes roamed over him as if she was looking for something out of place.

“Raphael, so strange to see you here and not in your little sanctuary.” Sanctuary was said mockingly. “You usually send one of your healers out for whatever you need.”

“Is there something you want, Michael?”

“The Metatron would like to speak with you.” Uriel answered. Raphael nodded, a cold feeling filling his gut. He knew there was more to it than that. They had to have known something. Why else fetch him themselves?

“I’ll speak with him after I tend to Sandal-“

“Zadkiel is looking after him as we speak.” Michael interrupted. They each stood on either side of him, marching him to where they wanted him to go. That cold feeling turned to ice. He went willingly and, just like a prayer, he saw Raziel walking by. He shifted his eyes only enough for the dirty-blonde to know. Raziel’s eyes widened slightly and nodded to make it look like he was acknowledging all three. Michael and Uriel kept their faces forward, their pace brisk and backs straight. Raphael had faith Raziel would alert the others and continue with the plan should something happen to him. He prayed he was wrong.

 

♥∞♦

 

They didn’t go the next day. Crowley took one look at Aziraphale and refused to leave until he could move without struggling. Instead, they jointly assessed what needed retrieving from the village. Aziraphale offered again to show him about the cottage and, again, Crowley declined, reminding him of the deal they made a couple days prior. Aziraphale sighed glumly, but nodded. It hurt Crowley to not give in and let the angel have his way, but he wanted him to remember first. Only then would he be able to understand completely. So, for the rest of the day after inventory, Crowley continued to cook and make tea for the angel. Aziraphale chased him away a few times and accused him of hovering, which was not what he was doing (he absolutely was too paranoid something would happen if he weren’t close). The angel soon became annoyed and asked him politely, “Isn’t there something you’d rather do for a bit? Go for a drive, perhaps?” Crowley didn’t leave the cottage, but he did leave Aziraphale in the living room to return to the kitchen. It needed cleaning anyway, and he needed something to keep himself busy that wasn’t looking out all the windows every five minutes for danger.

Once the sun rose the next day and the former demon was finally starting to relax enough to succumb to sleep, it was at this point he heard the angel coming down the stairs. He groaned, cursing the sun for rising so soon, even though it was still winter. Crowley rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head, trying to block out as much of the sun as he could. He heard a stifled giggle and groggily hissed his annoyance, “You aren’t very quiet, you know”

“I wasn’t trying to be. I noticed you were awake. You can rest longer, my dear. I’ll make breakfast this time. You are more than welcome to sleep a bit longer in my bed, if you’d like.” Crowley could feel his ears heating up at the thought. Sleep and in an actual bed sounded bloody amazing, but it wouldn’t do to have Aziraphale out of his sight. He shook his head. “Very well, dear fellow. I’ll make you some eggs and bacon. Oh, would you like some black pudding too? I still have some left, if you’d like some?”

“Sure, angel” He has certainly eaten more in the past couple days than he has in a decade. He’s never felt full like this and it was a bit uncomfortable.

“Wonderful, now you rest some more, and I’ll call you when breakfast is ready.” The former demon could hear the smile in Aziraphale’s voice and listened to him turn and walk towards the kitchen.

He closed his eyes and extended his senses; the wards continued to thrum full of energy and there was nothing demonic or angelic near them. He could hear the few birds that remained chirping, the crunch of the little snow that was outside under rabbit paws, the sound of the ocean hitting against the cliff not too far off. It was relaxing, a small piece of the world that he still wanted to live in. A small piece he still wanted to call their own, if Aziraphale wanted to once he remembered and they were left alone again. There were still so many things to tackle. It felt like more than the first apocalypse, felt like whatever happens will be more final this time. He hoped it wouldn’t be, hoped what Aziraphale and the others did up there put a complete stop to anymore world-ending scenarios.

 

He drew his senses back in and simply listened to Aziraphale in the kitchen. The angel was humming happily to himself, barely audible over the sizzling of the bacon and eggs. Crowley drew in a deep breath to get more of that delicious smell in. Aziraphale was clearly doing better today. He hadn’t heard the telltale signs of that cane thumping the floor with his footsteps when he came down. Crowley still felt uneasy about leaving the cottage, but Aziraphale was right on some level. He couldn’t stop the angel from leaving, no matter how much he wanted to keep him safe where they were. He’d just have to be extra vigilant until Raphael and Gabriel showed up tomorrow. Perhaps he should give them a call before they headed out and ask what time they should expect them. 

Crowley threw off the blanket, swung his legs onto the floor and sat up. He stretched and sighed at the familiar pops his joints made, his body shivering from losing the little heat he had when underneath the blankets. He stood and walked to the bathroom in Aziraphale’s room. Since he refused to be shown the cottage, Aziraphale said he was more than welcome to use that one when he needed to. Being an immortal entity, he didn’t need to use it at all more than half the time, but playing human around an amnesiac angel who believes they are both human proved to be difficult at times. So, once he closed the bathroom door, he simply snapped his fingers and his silk pjs he had “brought from his flat” to wear vanished and he was back in his usual dark attire. He patted his clothes down to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles (his clothes wouldn’t ever dare rumple) just to give himself a few more moments of peace. He patted the front of his blazer down, then paused. There had been a strange sound when he patted over his breast pocket, and smoothing his hand down over it revealed something a bit firmer than cloth to be sitting inside it.

He peeled his blazer partially open and reached inside the hidden pocket, pulling out a black-and-white photo that made his breath shudder; it was the picture from 1941 after that reckless magic trick. Him and Aziraphale shaking hands and looking towards the camera, the angel looked ridiculously adorable in his magician attire it shouldn’t have been as cute as it was. It wasn’t the first time Aziraphale put his full trust and life in Crowley’s hands, but it was the first time it was all on him to make sure he didn’t accidentally discorporate the angel. The first time given the means that could have hurt his angel in any way. It was incredibly foolish, but he couldn’t thank Aziraphale enough for getting him out of that jam and saving him from being dragged down to Hell in one night.

His hands trembled, and eyes blurred. This was the gift Aziraphale was talking about, his angel’s last words to trust him. When did he put this in Crowley’s pocket? How had he not noticed it was there until now? It must’ve been there since they parted, Aziraphale must’ve performed another ridiculous magic trick and it had worked just like the first time it needed to back then. His bloody angel was so terrible at magic, but in rare instances, when he got it right, it was damn near impressive. He’d never admit it to him, but Crowley didn’t think he’d need to. Aziraphale’s smiles were always brighter when he sees he was able to fool him too.

 

Crowley furiously wiped the damn liquid away (He absolutely refused to admit they were tears, even to himself) before they could fall and damage the picture. Aziraphale had only ever asked him to trust him this whole time. Emotions blinded Crowley, and later, he still couldn’t solve the puzzle. He was always so clever, even Aziraphale’s told him so more than he could count, so why hadn’t he seen it this time? He walked away when he thought he lost the one thing he always wanted, only to see that Aziraphale had not turned his back after all. Maybe, after being free these last few years, really did soften him up. Took him off his game and momentarily forgot the steps to their dance. Someone, he doesn’t know how much longer he can stand waiting for Raphael and Gabriel to show up.

Aziraphale’s muffled shout called for him. Crowley quickly and carefully returned the picture to its hiding place and opened the door. He took the steps two at a time, turned the corner and saw Aziraphale just setting his plate down in front of the chair he claimed for himself. Crowley sauntered over to the angel’s chair and pulled it out for him before he could get the chance. Aziraphale smiled and thanked him, sitting down, and Crowley pushed him in before going to his own chair to drop into it like he always did. He sat there for a moment and watched Aziraphale pick up his fork, cut into one of his eggs and raise it to his mouth. Watching Aziraphale eat and enjoy himself was one of Crowley’s favorite things to do no matter where they were. 

He waited a moment more before picking up one of the pieces of bacon and biting into it. The crunch was deeply satisfying, and the taste wasn’t half-bad, if he did say-so himself. He looked over to see Aziraphale’s eyes look away quickly, focusing back onto his plate and picking up a piece of toast. Crowley swallowed and took another bite, having no qualms about talking with food in his mouth. “T’s good”

“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full. It’s terribly rude, but thank you,” Aziraphale replied softly.

“Yeah, well, I’m a rude person” Crowley took another bite, exaggerating his chewing just a little more. Aziraphale bristled.

“Someone ought to teach you some manners”

“I’ve got manners”

“Then someone ought to- Oh. Oh, I see what you’re doing. You- You- ridiculous man!” Aziraphale huffed. Crowley chuckled, very amused.

 

Once the chuckles died down, Aziraphale informed Crowley that he would like to leave after breakfast, if it was no trouble at all. Crowley agreed. The sooner they leaved the sooner they could return ho- to the cottage. The former demon practically inhaled his food. Shoving most of it in his mouth and barely taking a chance to chew it. Aziraphale looked at him in shock, his mouth gaping open. Crowley simply smiled and announced he had a phone call to make. It had been a while since he last shocked Aziraphale and he delighted in the chance to do so again, even if it was an old trick he’d done before. The first time he gulped down food like that in front of Aziraphale, it was back in Egypt. They weren’t exactly fond memories most of the time, but he did have a little fun pretending to be a snake deity.

After cleaning his dishes, he left the kitchen and stopped near the entrance. Crowley whipped out his phone and held it to his ear, willing the phone to call Raphael. He hooked his free hand’s thumb into a front, tiny pocket of his trousers, his fingers tapping impatiently. A few seconds later, the ringing silenced. No one picked up. He tried again, puffing his cheeks and looking out the windows. No answer. Raphael just must be busy, the prick of an angel. He shouted to Aziraphale he was going to start the car and went outside. There was no reason to start the Bentley. She wasn’t like those new cars or any other cars, really. She could heat up in just a few seconds and be perfectly fine.

The sun was barely peeking from among the clouds, a light breeze making today a good day to go out. Crowley still shivered, forcing his teeth to stay shut tight to prevent them from chattering. He stuffed his hands deep into his thick black coat and dipped his chin low against his chest. He really did hate the bloody cold. Crowley stalked towards the Bentley, who rumbled to life excitedly. He opened the door and jumped in. He had to make it look like he had started her from inside if Aziraphale saw out the window. He hissed at the steering wheel, “Calm down, you bloody car! I know ye’re worried about him and want to see him, but I need you to act like a normal car for bit” The rumbles quietened, listening to his words. “Aziraphale doesn’t remember you’re... well, not like other cars. Doesn’t- doesn’t even remember he’s an angel right now” The Bentley rumbled her engine louder before quietening again, as if asking a question. Crowley caressed the steering wheel, soothingly. “He’s alright, but I need you to behave-“ The driver's seat’s back lowered before shooting him back up to where it was positioned before. She enjoyed speeding, but the Bentley knew who the true culprit was for scaring the angel most of the time. “Oi! Fine, I’ll go slower. Just- don’t go changing yer color or... anything else. I won’t be able to explain why you can do the things you can do. Do you understand?” The Bentley rumbled her engine in agreement. He nodded, satisfied, and jumped back out of the car to head back into the house.

 

Upon opening the door, he saw Aziraphale putting on his tartan scarf- the same one he lent to Crowley days ago. Had it really only been four days since they reunited? It was really hard to believe. Crowley gulped, watching the angel before him pat down any creases in his clothes, straighten his gloves and readjusting the scarf again. He then turned and picked up his cane to bring, just in case he needed it. When the angel turned and his dull blue eyes landed on the former demon, and smiled. He shook his head, then approached, “Ready to go, my dear?” Crowley nodded, opening the door wider and letting Aziraphale pass. His throat felt too tight all of a sudden for some unknown reason. Having locked up the cottage securely, Crowley dashed to the passenger door and opened it for Aziraphale. The angel’s cheeks blushed, “Thank you” and he slid into his seat. The passenger door closed, and Crowley swiftly made his way to the other side.

He hopped into the driver's seat and made sure Aziraphale was buckled in (Aziraphale had insisted once that the Bentley should have seatbelts for when Adam or Warlock rode in it. It also helped the angel relax as well, so all but the driver’s seat had seat belts). Aziraphale reached his hand out and gently smoothed it over the dashboard, the Bentley’s relaxed rumbling completely lost on Aziraphale. The angel smiled and turned to Crowley. “She’s very beautiful. How long have you had her?” Crowley took in a couple of deep breaths, gripping the wheel tightly with one hand as he moved his other to the gearshift. Remember, slower. Slow.

“Feels almost like a century” He shifted the gear, and they were off. Any reply Aziraphale had on his tongue quickly died with one hand firmly pressed to the door and the other to the console. The former demon smirked.

“Slow down, Crowley! You shouldn’t be going over on such wet roads!” Aziraphale shouted, glaring at Crowley. Crowley threw him a smile and shifted once they were on the main road heading towards the village.

“I’m only going 70!”

“Yes, and the speed limit here is 40! Now please, slow down!” Against Crowley’s wishes (and foot on the gas), the Bentley slowed down to go 50. The angel didn’t fully relax, but breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Not entirely better, but it’s a start.” Aziraphale sat up a bit straighter and took a few more steadying breaths.

 

The ride was mostly quiet aside from Freddie Mercury playing on a low volume. Crowley didn’t know what to say, so stayed focused on driving and stretching his senses out every so often to feel around them. The Bentley can drive herself and with his shades, Aziraphale would never know what he was really looking at or searching for. They entered the village not too long later and the former demon felt himself tense. All they had to do was pick up whatever was on the list and leave. As much as it pained him to not at least suggest they stay for lunch, he knew they weren’t safe. He saw Aziraphale watching the buildings pass with an easy, thrilled smile; being out of the cottage and among people clearly delighted him.

They rolled to a stop in front of the local small farmer’s market. Crowley jumped out of the Bentley, quickly making his way around to the passenger side, and opened the passenger door. Aziraphale’s head looked up at him, back at the driver’s seat, then up at him with a smile. “In a rush, dear?” Crowley offered his hand- something quickly becoming a habit he noticed belatedly- and helped Aziraphale out, reaching behind him and grabbed the cane from the backseat. He shut the door, and the Bentley locked herself up. He handed the cane to Aziraphale and let go of his hand, his fingers brushing against something wrapped around the angel’s wrist. He glanced down and saw what looked like red thread barely peeking out of the few layers of sleeve. He’d seen it before when he brought the angel back to his cottage, but he was occupied with other worries to really take in the red knotted bracelet around the angel’s wrist.

“What’s this?” He asked, too curious to really think things through before he was moving the many layers of sleeve up just a little higher to better see the bracelet. He did his best to ignore the warm skin of the angel’s, his fingers wound around and examined the seven knotted bracelet. There was a very human magic woven through it, a magic that told the former demon that this was a gift from Anathema. He didn’t know too much about human magic, just enough to keep himself safe and what could possibly cause him trouble. Aziraphale cleared his throat, causing Crowley to look back up at his pink cheeks and eyes that were firmly looking at the demon’s fingers touching the bracelet and holding his wrist gently. Crowley let him go and took a step back. Aziraphale brought his arm close and smoothed the bracelet back into what he assumed was a comfortable position, considering the barely showing indents in his skin.

“It was a gift from Anathema. ‘To keep me safe,’ she’d said.” The angel smiled fondly, “I really can’t thank her and the others enough for all they’ve done for me... and now you” Crowley looked back down at the bracelet again. He wondered how strong the magic was and if maybe he could make it stronger to ensure no one could harm the angel, possibly making him blend in with the crowd better. He’d have to give the book girl another ring later. For now, he cleared his throat and took his spot beside the angel.

“‘M glad. Now, let’s get that list checked off and get outta here”

 

They wandered the market for an hour. Aziraphale looking thoroughly through each stall, eyes scrutinizing each vegetable, fruit, and jars of jams and honey before making his selection. He’d lean in and give his own opinion about the best herbs for Aziraphale to get and the angel would agree with that Smile that made the former demon’s knees threaten to give out. Crowley would also forever deny the blooming in his chest upon seeing the angel wiggle in sun-envying delight upon seeing the baked goods displayed at a few stalls. The former demon listened to the angel talk with the stall owners with a growing familiarity, the older woman at one of them giving him a knowing smile and a wink. She was both a smart woman and someone he could see giving him trouble (the fun-poking kind, not the ‘better watch your step’ kind... possibly). Seeing Aziraphale so relaxed and enjoying himself was something he’s always wanted for them both. It was a like a glimpse into a dream he desperately wished to come true.

Crowley and Aziraphale bantered and joked when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. His body tensed and let his forked tongue barely peak from his lips to catch- yes, the smell of sulfur was nearby. He was startled when a hand gently touched his upper arm. Aziraphale yanked it back, and he hated the small apologetic look he saw on the angel’s face. “Are you alright, my dear?” He looked around again. He needed to go find the demons he knew were lurking nearby. They couldn’t find his angel, not now!

“Jusst fine.” He grumbled (not noticing the nervous lisp slipping out, but Aziraphale sure did), looking around for a safe place for Aziraphale to duck into and stay. His eyes caught sight of a small Antique shop and pointed it out, “Hey, what’s that place?” Aziraphale looked to see where the former demon was pointing and smiled brightly. The angel took a two steps, stopped, then turned to look at Crowley quizzically. Crowley nodded, “Go on, I’ll join ya in a few.” Aziraphale brought his hands together and arched an eyebrow.

“If I remember correctly, you said you wouldn’t leave my side.” Damn, bastard of an angel really knew when to play dirty. “What’s going on Crowley?” The former demon shrugged, thinking quickly of how to get out of the situation.

 

“Nothin’” He hoped, “Just thought I saw some old friends.” He looked around again.

“Oh! Why didn’t you say so?” The former demon turned to see Aziraphale at his side again. “Are they anyone I know?” Crowley shook his head, hoping desperately Aziraphale never met them, though he wasn’t entirely sure. He knew Aziraphale ran into other demons in those early years, but the angel never indulged more than ‘I ran across one of your people, but it’s alright. Everything went well in the end.’

“Don’t think so. Ya never told me who ya ran into from my lot.” The angel must’ve sensed something (in his own way. Crowley wasn’t sure if he had access to his Angelic senses still or not) because he was looking towards the Antique shop with a thoughtful look.

“You called them friends, but I have the distinct impression that they aren’t that at all... are they?” Aziraphale turned back to look at Crowley. A crease wrinkled about those knitted brows the former demon wanted nothing more than to wipe away. “Perhaps we should... make a quiet exit, hm?”

“But, you aren’t done with yer shopping” What was he thinking?! He should agree, take the angel and leave! Not be concerned with Aziraphale’s incomplete shopping list.

“It’s alright, dear boy, I can always come back another day.” Crowley’s lips thinned in thought. While it would be better to go back to the cottage where it was safe, who knew if the demons would really leave? What if they came back to the market and were spotted? What if Aziraphale came back and was taken to Hell? No, if the angel taught him anything, it’s that running isn’t always an option. Back to plan A; Find the demons.

 

“I think,” Crowley started, looking around again, “I’m gonna go talk to them.”

“Are you sure? Are they... truly dangerous?” Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s hand hovering over his upper arm. He took in his grasp gently and gave it a gentle squeeze. When did he dare to become so bold?

“No, why don’t you wait in the shop and I’ll find you when I’m done, yeah?”

“Perhaps I ought to go with you” Nope, no freaking way. “I can defend myself if need be, but-“

“No angel,” Crowley interrupted, nearly growling. “I can handle it. Please, just... Stay here?” Aziraphale fell silent, his eyes seeming to glaze over for a second before blinking it away. The angel chewed up his bottom lip, reluctantly nodding. Giving his hand one more squeeze, he let him go and stepped away from him. “I’ll be back soon.” And with that, he turned on his heel and dashed off.

 

It took a few minutes, following the Hellish stench through the crowd, but he finally found where the source stopped. He turned a corner to see four lowly demons talking amongst themselves in a narrow, dark alley hidden away from anyone’s prying eyes. One of them he immediately recognized to be Eric. He wondered what the dark-skinned demon wanted out of this, or perhaps he was assisting these other lowlives? It didn’t matter right now. He could ask later before the lad disappeared. He had a soft spot for Eric after all, and Eric always helped him out when he needed it. He leaned against one of the building walls and hooked his thumbs into his tiny trouser pockets to pull off the air of nonchalance. Once he was comfortable, he cleared his throat to get their attention. They all whipped around and their eyes widened in shock. He gave them a devilish smirk. “Hi” He dragged out in greeting. “Fancy seeing you lot here and out of your cages. Good job”

“Crowley?” A big gruff demon asked, not even bothering to hide his misshapen horns (one of them broken off) and bull ears. His voice was sounded unused and like his throat was clogged before one cleared it. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Crowley shrugged.

“Needed a change of scenery, perks of being retired. Can go anywhere I please without answering to anyone.” Something he hadn’t thought about until now. The reality that he was still considered free when Aziraphale was once again chained to Heaven brought pain to his chest. A tiny, mousy demon narrowed her eyes at him, the distrust clear in her clear eyes.

“I think you’re lying. In a village all of a sudden after that new Supreme Archangel- what’s his name? Azi- Aziferel- Azifeefee-“

“Aziraphale” Eric chimed in. The mousy demon nodded, but glared at Eric all the same.

 

“Whatever, that winged bloke, you must know where he is.” Those milky clear eyes turned back and narrowed at Crowley. “So, where is he?”

“No clue,” It technically wasn’t a lie. Aziraphale could be at the antique shop where he left him or he could’ve gone to the bakery right next door. However, these demons didn’t need to know that. Besides, they didn’t ask in great detail where specifically. It could’ve meant anywhere between ‘where on earth’ to ‘where in a building’. The last demon he didn’t know, a slim pale demon, clicked irritably.

“Don’t play dumb! We know you had history with that fat wanker. Tell us where he is and we might let you have whatever you want out of this Game.” The other three demons looked at the pale one incredulously. Lower demons weren’t known to share, given how little they already get. They were like a pride of starved lions. Once they had something, they would fight to the death to keep it.

“I’ll tell you what I told Shax.” Crowley pushed off the wall and stalked closer, looming over them. They had a look of defiance. “I don’t care about your little hunting game. I don’t know where the Supreme Archangel is, nor do I care.” He hissed, the words burning his throat and stinging his tongue. He had to keep up the act even if he had to lie about how he truly felt for Aziraphale. He was suddenly very grateful the angel wasn’t around. He highly doubted he’d be able to explain his way out of his words.

 

The bull demon tried to loom over Crowley, being a couple inches taller than him, and had a greater build to his corporation, but in the end it wouldn’t matter. These low demons knew they couldn’t take Crowley on single-handedly and Crowley was counting on their stupidity to not band together to take him on all at once. “It’s four against one, freak. You can’t protect this new Supreme Archangel like you did the last one.” Whelp, time to talk his way out of this mess. Crowley arched an eyebrow.

“Really?” The alley became darker. The former demon letting some of his demonic energy leak out and surrounding the five of them, the power used was intimidating. He growled in a low and dangerous tone. “Remember this and remember it well. Aziraphale doesn’t need my protection. I don’t keep tabs on what the fuck goes on in Hell or Heaven anymore. I. Am. Retired. And ya best remember that even if I don’t work for Hell anymore, I can still cause chaos and destruction whenever and wherever I bloody please, especially if it interests me. Trust me, you do not want my interest focused on you.” Three of the four demons backed up, gulping and nervously looking at one another. Crowley rolled his shoulders and pulled his energy back in. He felt looser than he had since this whole business started. He drew in a deep breath and let it out, showing how relaxed and unaffected this whole thing had been. He tilted his head and waited.

“I- I think we should try Britain, don’t you guys?” The mousy demon asked. The bull and pale demons agreed and vanished in thick puffs of smoke. Eric looked around himself to find himself alone.

 

Crowley sighed and stepped closer to Eric. “Not gonna join them, kid?” Eric looked back at him and fidgeted with his threaded, fingerless gloves. He shifted on his feet and looked down at the ground. He looked like he was waiting to be struck or something. Crowley stretched his senses out to make sure they were well and truly alone and, sure enough, they were. Crowley relaxed further. “Scapegoat again?” Eric nodded. “What’s been promised to you? Why hunt Aziraphale?” Eric shrugged.

“The others get the chance to come out of the pits for a while and roam free.”

“That’s for them, not for you.” Eric looked up and saw Crowley waiting patiently.

“I just don’t want to hurt anymore. All the other demons takin’ advantage of the fact there’s more of me an’ I know that’s just how Hell is, but it’d be nice to be appreciated at least- like you had been before ya left.” Eric rambled in frustration. Crowley softened and approached the shorter demon. Eric was like Muriel in a way, though much more intelligent when it came to the humans and Earth. A part of him wondered how they’d get on.

“What else are ya currently doing? Any active assignments?” Eric shook his head.

“No, just was helping the others hunt Aziraphale. Not-not that I really care. Gets me out of other assignments for a while. Though, I can still feel what happens to my other selves and... Well, ya know how it is.” Eric shrugged nonchalantly. Yes, Crowley did know how it was, but he’s learned after a few years of being free that it isn’t right. Hell could still be the place of punishment and be better to its demonic residents if anyone cared to try. He laid a hand on the dark-cladded shoulder and looked over his shades into Eric’s dark eyes. He hoped he didn’t regret this.

 

“Listen, Eric, how ‘bout ya go to my flat? Make yerself comfortable and wait for me to get back. Watch some telly, order something, I don’t care. We’ll work something out, yeah?” Eric’s eyes widened in shock.

“You mean that, sir- Crowley?” His voice was terribly small and, dare he say it, hopeful. The former demon offered a tempting smirk.

“Just as long as you leave my plants alone and stay in Mayfair, yes.” Eric reached forward, then jumped back. His arms flailed in, Crowley’s guess, excitement.

“U-uhm, what’s going on? W-what’s this feeling I’m feeling? It’s like all warm and I feel like shouting” Poor kid. Crowley’s smirk turned into a smile.

“That’s called happiness, kiddo.” Eric mouthed the word, letting it sink in, and he nodded, a smile spreading over his own face. “Better get going before someone finds ya here. There’s wards around my flat so no angels can get in. I’ll see ya later, k?” Eric saluted Crowley, turned and disappeared into the darkness.

 

Crowley turned and made his way back into the market. He weaved through the crowds like a snake through the grass. Once he found the Antique shop, he went inside and looked around. His chest began to feel tight. The angel wasn’t here. He left and tried the bakery. No angel. He exited and looked among the many stalls and over everyone’s heads to see if he could find that white-blonde, fluffy head he loved so much- wait, no. Not loved. He shouldn’t think like that right now. No matter how difficult it was, for all he knew, they could go their separate ways after the angel remembers everything. “Angel!”

Notes:

What is dis?! Not only a new, long chapter but one that ends on a cliffhanger?! So sorry, couldn't resist ☺
Work's still a bit crazy since I've been working two different stores. So, I'll be working on the next chapter when I can and hopefully get it out to ya in a relatively decent manner. I'm so excited to see what happens with these two next! Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter and have a lovely day/night ♥

Chapter 9: Do Not Worry, My Friend

Summary:

Aziraphale remembers more things. Crowley doubts Aziraphale's trust in him. More things unfold in Heaven.

Aziraphale fretted. He tried looking at all the interesting little trinkets and even inspected the few nice looking snuffboxes, but not even those could hold his attention. Crowley told him to stay put and even said please which, Aziraphale could tell and had an insistent whisper in the back of his mind, was rare for the redhead. He’ll be okay, the white-blonde tried to convince himself, Crowley said he’d be okay. So why did it leave his stomach churning anxiously? Aziraphale left the little shop with a mental note to visit it again later when he could properly enjoy it. He walked among the rest of the stalls in hopes of finishing his shopping (the bags he and Crowley accumulated already back in the Bentley when Crowley left). He finished quickly enough and meandered among the last stalls he had yet to visit; valuable trinkets, handcrafted plushies, clothes, and wooden carvings. All beautiful and made with love, but there was something in the next stall that caught his eye. He quickly made his way over; it was a stall of handwoven winter wears that held anything from gloves to full on thick coats and fur-lined cloaks. He ignored all of them in favor of the black gloves and tartan scarf that even Crowley would approve of, since it was in his colors; black with reds and grays. 

He picked up his items and paid the young couple, who smiled warmly, the young man even wrapping them for him. Aziraphale paid them more than what they were asking and went on his way. He wiggled with joy at his find and could not wait to give them to Crowley! That darling of a man really needed something more to keep him warm when the colder days came around. First, he had to find him. He looked around, hoping to spot that lovely shade of red or even those dark clothes that stood out even amongst everyone else. Aziraphale was so caught up in looking he’d almost ran into someone. “Pardon me.” The man who turned toward him looked Aziraphale up and down, then smiled.

“No, pardon me, good sir. Should’ve been watching where I was going. Although, you look a little lost. Can I help you?” Aziraphale looked the man over; he was tall and even with the thick forest green coat on, the white-blonde could tell he had a bit of a build. His hair was slicked back with a couple of strands styled over his refined face. Both hair and recently looking trimmed Zappa moustache were a chocolate brown, almost crimson in the little light the sun provided. His skin was pale and eyes dark. Though fairly charming, this man gave Aziraphale a strange feeling. The white-blonde’s body tensed. He planted his cane down on the ground and gripped the head tightly. He gave his best polite smile.

“I’m just looking for a friend. You haven’t perhaps seen a tall redhead in black clothing, have you?” The man’s eyes roamed over him again, nodded and pointed towards a couple of buildings.

“I saw someone of that description head in that direction. I think he went into that alley.”

“Thank you.” Aziraphale made just a few steps past the man before the man spoke again.

“Remember, not everything is as it seems.” Baffled, Aziraphale turned to question the man, but he was no longer in sight. Aziraphale’s eyes scanned the crowds, but it’s as if he was never there to begin with.

 

Now more than a little spooked, his steps hurried towards where the strange man said Crowley (hopefully Crowley) was. He began to wonder if he should trust the man. He did seem a bit odd. Though he did nothing wrong, surely Aziraphale’s gut feeling was incorrect? However, it hadn’t been so far with everything else he’s felt. He just hoped he was imagining things. The closer he got to the alley, however, the more the air seemed to compress and warp around him. He took in deep breaths, suddenly feeling a bit lacking in oxygen. It only took a few seconds for the surrounding air to soon calm and feel like it was hugging him rather than suffocating. The energy here felt familiar, felt like a home he once knew. His head began to ache, but he didn’t care. He needed to find Crowley. He approached closer until he heard that lovely voice hissing, “-ziraphale doesn’t need my protection. I don’t keep tabs on what the fuck goes on in Hell or Heaven anymore. I. Am. Retired. And ya best remember that even if I don’t work for Hell anymore, I can still cause chaos and destruction whenever and wherever I bloody please, especially if it interests me. Trust me, you do not want my interest focused on you.”

Heaven? Hell? What was Crowley talking about? And not needing his protection? What on earth could that possibly mean? Aziraphale let Crowley’s words play in his head on loop, drowning out the rest of the conversation between him and the four other interesting-looking people standing in the alley. The white-blonde digested the words, letting them float around in his pain-addled mind until he felt something cool and wet dripping down over his lips towards his chin. He removed one of his warm gloves and gently dabbed at the liquid, his fingers coming away crimson. Oh no, he needed to take his pills before something else happened. He searched his pockets, then nearly cursed under his breath (Crowley was such a bad influence on his vocabulary!). He must’ve left them in the Bentley... And Crowley had the keys. What was he to do?

 

At some point in his thinking, he had started walking. He didn’t know where he was and his focus was getting harder to hold. His pounding head was already becoming light, his vision becoming even blurrier. This was bad. He couldn’t lose consciousness here! Clumsily, he stumbled his way back into the farmers market, leaning heavily on his cane. He was dangerously swaying when someone had caught him by the arm and he barely heard his name being called. He turned to see an older woman in vibrant bright colors, a cotton purple winter coat, shoulder-length blonde hair and light make-up. He sighed in relief at recognizing his dear friend, “Madame, so good to see you.” He breathed out. She clucked and tugged him along in another direction.

“I wish I could say the same to you, dearie. Mr. S and I were just passing through when I spotted you. I’m surprised to find you here so far from your beloved bookshop. You don’t appear well at all.” She pushed open a door to a local inn and helped him up the stairs. Soon enough, she had pushed a door open to reveal a cosy little room and helped him sit in one of the chairs provided. When he made no move to explain, Marjorie walked into a separate room he assumed to be the washroom, heard a sink run, then felt something pressing against his nose. Aziraphale took over, pushed it against his nose, and pinched it to hopefully stop the blood flow. The kind lady then offered him a glass of water and he took it gratefully. The white-blonde closed his eyes and prayed that he wouldn’t pass out. Aziraphale heard the other chair opposite of his move and heard Marjorie sit down. He opened his eyes and saw her looking at him with concern. He waved his hand lazily.

“I’m alright, Madame. Just a bit of a spell. It’ll pass.” He hoped.

“Looks more than just a bit of a spell, luv. Where’s your dashing Crowley? Surely, you didn’t come here by your lonesome?” His dashing Crowley? He tried to rifle through his memories he had with Marjorie; they shared many tea dates together and talked about many things up until she left. Even then, they traded letters about her journey with her beau and how they were in search of the perfect home. She had more than enough money to spend on a little travelling before they officially settled down. Aziraphale should’ve guessed that they talked of Crowley! Why he doesn’t remember those memories was beginning to reveal a pattern. He remembered most of his friends, but didn’t remember anyone from either his other job or Crowley nor the other man’s work. It was like selective amnesia, almost... Just thinking about that made his head hurt. A hammer pounding a nail into his skull. Wait, Marjorie didn’t know of his condition! Perhaps she could answer some of his pressing questions. He had to know everything, but he didn’t want to worry her about his loss of memories. He had to tread carefully. She was a clever woman so needed to do his absolute best to not let on what’s going on.

 

“Not alone, no. Crowley went to speak with some people he thought he recognized.” She clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

“And leave you all alone? Don’t tell me he left you while you were in such a state.” He choked out a breathless laugh.

“No, Madame. I assure you, he didn’t. He asked me to wait for him and...” She shook her head.

“Of course you didn’t wait, you silly thing. I take it these people were his kind? I know you both still tense up when someone from either Above or Below comes around. Even just talking about it tends to put you on edge.” His kind? Above and Below? These were strange jobs they worked. Perhaps she meant he worked on one of the top floors in a building and Crowley worked in some sort of basement? Were they separate companies or one and the same? This was all quite terribly confusing.

“Madame, what do you mean by ‘his kind’?” He asked, all thoughts of treading carefully, momentarily slipping from his light head and increasingly tired mind. Tracy’s concern look deepened, her mouth pulling downwards into a frown.

 

“The other demons, of course? I know he no longer associates as one of them and you don’t like it when I call him that. You’ve even questioned both of your statuses since you’ve been freed.” Demons? Freed... A memory flashed across his mind of him and Crowley sitting on a familiar bench in St. James’s Park. His smile bright, telling Crowley how he asked for a rubber duck and got Michael to miracle him a towel. Crowley’s head thrown back and barking out a laugh. “Aziraphale? Dearie, what’s wrong?” Aziraphale opened his eyes (he didn’t like not knowing when they closed) to see Marjorie leaning over the small table. Her hand rested over his clammy one. His breaths were laboured and eyes threatened to close against his will. Another memory emerged; him and Crowley dining at the Ritz. They were so happy, speaking of how none of it would be possible without the other. Aziraphale remembered exactly how he felt back then, how he felt he could do anything. Lighter than air and looking at Crowley... He wanted nothing more but to confess... They toasted to the world and had a lovely evening together.

The sudden knock at the door brought him back to the present again. The noise making his head hurt even more. He felt well and truly exhausted. Marjorie had gotten up and went to the door. Aziraphale heard her speak, but couldn’t make out her words. Not too long later, there was a pressure on his knee. Was someone calling his name? He forced his eyes to open and, there, kneeling in front of him, was that gorgeous redhead. It took him a moment longer to register a hand cupping his cheek, a thumb sweeping underneath his left eye tenderly. “Crowley?” It took him quite a bit of effort to even speak the being’s name.

“Forget yer pills, angel?” Before Aziraphale could respond, Crowley produced his pill bottle from his pocket. He gave the lovely dear a tired smile. Crowley dumped two pills into his hand and Aziraphale carefully popped them into his mouth and Crowley helped him drink some water from his glass.

“Thank you” Crowley nodded then turned to Marjorie.

 

“Thanks for the call.” Aziraphale felt Crowley took his hands and help him stand, a skinny arm banding around his waist immediately to hold him steady. He heard Marjorie ask about his wellbeing, Crowley answering every single question she had and she answered his in return. She then wished him a speedy recovery and to call her later. Once they were out the door and among the crowd again, Crowley leaned down and spoke in a lowered voice.

“I thought I told you to wait for me.”

“I did, but I was so worried.”

“You should’ve just trusted me!” Though he hissed angrily in Aziraphale’s ear, his hand remained gentle when squeezing his waist in no other way the white-blonde could deduce other than protectively. “But no, of course ya didn’t trust me to come back. At some point, you seem to have lost all trust in me”

“Of course I trust you!” He replied indignantly, without hesitation to his and, judging by how Crowley pulled them both to a stop and whipped his head toward him, the redhead’s surprise as well. Aziraphale turned more towards Crowley and looked past those blasted lenses to those beautiful honey-golden eyes he now knew hidden away. Deep down, he knew the answer to be true. His voice came out in a watery whisper, “I trust you, Crowley. Completely and wholeheartedly… but I don’t trust your lot.”

 

Crowley remained silent for minutes, frozen in place. Aziraphale began to worry he’d said the wrong thing and something must’ve shown because Crowley then cleared his throat and pulled Aziraphale along again. Crowley pulled him along faster, not wasting a single moment opening the Bentley’s door and helping ease him inside. He buckled the white-blonde in and closed the door before Aziraphale realized what had just happened. Seconds later, Crowley had jumped in and they were speeding out and away from town. Aziraphale glanced over at Crowley, watched his fidgeting fingers, and repeated the entire tense ride. His throat closed up and eyes were beginning to burn. He felt like he’d said the wrong thing. Should he not have expressed how much he trusted this man? Even if he held all the answers to his burning questions, he still couldn’t help but trust him. In his heart, he knew there was no one else more trustworthy than the being driving like the devil was after them.

They rolled to a stop outside the cottage. Neither made a move to get out, simply looking out the windshield and towards the cottage that held so many mysteries waiting to be solved. After some more time had passed, it was Crowley who broke the silence with a thick croaked voice, “How?” He cleared his throat and licked his lips. “How can you trust me? How do you know I am who I say I am? I’m just a stranger to you right now.” There was so much emotion in those questions. So much pain that Aziraphale couldn’t stand to hear. He didn’t even have to think of the answers, trusting his heart to speak the truth.

“I may not have my memories, but I haven’t forgotten how I feel. It hurts to know there is so much history between us, so much I’ve forgotten,” He turned to look at Crowley, “But Crowley, ever since we’ve met in the bookshop you’ve done nothing but protect me. You’ve helped me so much these past few days and I’ve never felt safer. Ever since I woke up, I’ve been scared to know who I was before, frustrated to not know what my life was like before, and felt so incredibly“ lonely “lost. Meeting you has made me feel that everything will be alright. Though you have refused to answer all my questions, you’ve inexplicably helped me remember more in the past few days than I have without you the past two weeks. I am truly so grateful for you and I hope, when I get my memories back, we can talk and you’ll allow me to show you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” Crowley didn’t turn his gaze away from the windshield, but Aziraphale could tell he had listened closely. His hands tightened their grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, and he took deep, controlled breaths. Crowley gave a curt nod, opened his door and jumped out. Aziraphale watched him round the car to his side and open his door.

“C’mon then, let’s get this stuff inside.”

 

~•○•~

 

In the vast openness of Heaven, there stood a door with the symbol of Healers. Beyond this door lies what some humans view Paradise to look like; fields of green, rows of patches bursting with colors, and an air of peace. Many angelic Healers would learn about the herbs they tended to and write down their results when mixed with other ingredients. It was under Raphael’s Rule here that all must learn to not always depend on their angelic nature to heal the humans below and their brethren. While most Healers followed Raphael’s rules with fascination, others did not agree with his methods. These were the Healers who tended to other Angels’ needs and watched who entered and exited their sanctuary. They more played as gatekeepers and messengers for Raphael. So when Raphael had yet to return from his errand to speak with a few scriveners, they found it odd. Yet odder still, they watched in confusion when the Archangel Raguel; a tall, fair-skinned angel with brown hair that was combed back and curled around his ears, enter the sanctuary. Normally, the only Archangels that would enter, beside Raphael, were Zadkiel and the Metatron. Anyone else only came if they were in need of medical assistance.

It wasn’t lost on the Archangel either that he was being watched, but he needed to speak to Zadkiel urgently. After receiving the news from Raziel, they’d have to continue with the plan. If Raphael didn’t return soon, someone else would have to join Gabriel once that bumbling dits returned to Earth. He wished that sudden development surprised him with Beelzebub, but he had no room to speak either. He approached the white tent and moved the flap to see Zadkiel writing down something on a clipboard. The paler Archangel stood at the foot of Sandalphon’s bed, his brow furrowed and lips moving with no sound escaping. Raguel waited. He knew Zadkiel knew he was there. Zadkiel worked faster when uninterrupted. He watched the other man lower the clipboard back on its hook at the edge of the bed frame and turn his lavender eyes on him. He approached quickly, and they both turned to a nook that was miracled to keep all listening ears out.

 

“What news?” Zadkiel asked quietly, not wanting to break the quietness inside the tent by speaking too loudly.

“Raphael still has yet to be seen. Raziel is still in correspondence with Gabriel. He should be returning to the bookshop soon. If Raphael still hasn’t shown up, Raziel will go meet him.”

“Doesn’t that put them at risk?” Zadkiel asked with concern.

“Raziel’s the only other Angel who can help Aziraphale. We have to get to him first and stick to the plan before the Metraton does.” Zadkiel’s lips thinned. He didn’t like this plan, he didn’t like what they were doing at all. Aziraphale and Jesus had convinced them to not think of it as going against Heaven, but taking care of a major problem and that right now was the Metraton, Michael, and Uriel. Saraqael was still a wild card no one knew how to predict. She reminded them too much of Azrael. Zadkiel nodded reluctantly.

“And what about you? Uriel has informed me to continue to watch over Sandalphon until Raphael returns. It wouldn’t be good if you got caught as well.” Raguel turned to look at Sandalphon, who still lied unconscious on the bed. Ever since he discorporated, no one has known what happened to him other than a venomous snake had bitten him. According to Raphael’s notes, the venom also had a demonic signature. The Archangel turned back to his broader friend.

“I’ve got a meeting to attend to.”

Notes:

I wasn't expecting to release a chapter so soon! I had a bit of it done already and was struggling after Crowley came to get Aziraphale, I've been thinking about it nonstop. I had my friend read a few bits and pieces and felt more confident in writing the rest! Though, now that it's complete, I gotta figure out where this'll go next. I've got a few ideas, just gotta choose the best start and we'll see where we go from there! Anywho, hope you all enjoyed and I really am enjoying reading the comments! I'm so glad people are enjoying this and are just as excited as I am to continue working on this! I hope you all have a lovely day/night and I'll see y'all in the next chapter ♥

P.S.~ If ye're curious about Sandalphon's condition, check out my other story "Shedding Layers"

Chapter 10: Dilemmas

Summary:

Raphael and Gabriel still haven't show up and Crowley is concerned. Anathema isn't being helpful and Aziraphale has finally managed to open his chest. Banter forward!

Well, things just got a lot more interesting, the demon thought with a black-toothed grin. In the darkest part of an alley in Mayfair stood the Duke of Hell; Hastur. He watched with keen interest the dark-skinned demon, Eric, enter Crowley’s home of residence with cautious delight. Hastur dared not approach, still too wary of Crowley’s flat being laden with other deadly traps. Some nights, he could still hear Ligur’s screams… The demon had waited years for an opportunity like this to arise.

If anyone asked of his motivations, it would simply to get back at Crowley for all he’d gotten away with. This wasn’t revenge for that pathetic demon taking away his companion. Demons didn’t have those much less friends. He wasn’t some sort of avenging Angel either (though Ligur’s death did spur something in him he aggressively shoved aside any time he thought about it). No, Crowley got off too easy. Though, he did have to hand it to him on some level. Hastur would never have thought up his plans without Crowley’s reports.

He spent all his free time (he barely had any and then when Beelzebub went on their little Earth trips, Hell became even more disorderly) watching and waiting. Lockdown was a bit of a disappointment, perfect time to do some evil deeds. Hastur thought again what a terrible disappointment Crowley was. How could that flash bastard live up here and act like these puny insects? He should’ve been honored to be a demon. They had power the humans couldn’t fathom (and the humans had creativity demons didn’t have, but sumantics). Then again, Crowley wasn’t ever a proper demon was he? Spent half his time with that prissy angel.

Hastur thought of burning down the bookshop countless times. However, every time he thought of going to do it, he always ran into a problem; he got lost on his way, there’d be a sudden assignment that needed completing, he had to take care of a few souls and demons personally, etc. The toad demon had watched both renegade agents from afar with disgust. It was so nauseating he wanted to gag. How could Crowley stand being around that angel without being affected in any way? (Negative way, anyway)

Well, with this Hunting game, that was about to change. Unlike the other demons, he wasn’t planning to present that wankwing to Satan. No, he had something much more sinister in mind. Once he captured the angel, he knew getting Crowley wouldn’t be too far behind. Crowley could fool Shax and tell the other lower demons all he wanted that he didn’t care and had no clue where the angel was. Hastur wasn’t going to be fooled by Crowley. He just had to wait for Crowley to show up.

 

🩵∞🌟

 

Raphael nor Gabriel showed up the next day. Crowley tried not to worry too much about that. After all, time was funky in Heaven and space didn’t have clocks of any sort. So, he waited by Aziraphale’s side and watched over him diligently. When the second day rolled around, Crowley began to pace, which lead to cleaning the kitchen and keeping an eye on the front lawn and porch. Nothing happened, of course. He’d scared the lesser demons away, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be telling the others looking for the angel. By midday, he’d called Anathema just to see if she could stop by and maybe she had any ideas.

“Crowley, Aziraphale’s a big boy. Why not leave him for a while and go to Soho and check? There’s nothing more I can do. If you’re really worried, then try calling them again or sit tight and wait.” Crowley groaned.

“You aren’t helping!”

“Stop being a big baby and be patient. You’ve said it before, Time doesn’t really exist in Heaven. So, maybe Raphael doesn’t realize how much time has passed.” The former demon huffed, sliding a hand down his face in annoyance.

“If only there was some sort of clue that Nutter witch left behind,” He said, poking at Anathema. He could practically hear her eyes roll.

“I didn’t want anything more to do with her prophecies (which Agnes totally respected. What she sent to Anathema were directions to the real second book if she wanted it anyhow. Since Anathema burned the only real way to get to it, it would remain forever lost), so bite me. You don’t need my ancestor to save you again, anyway. I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you take your head out of your ass long enough.” Crowley stuck out his tongue, knowing Anathema knew what he was doing.

 

“You’re a real piece of work, book girl”

“And you love me for it. Now, I gotta go. Newt’s got something special planned tonight, so I gotta get ready.”

“Have fun~ And Anathema”

“Yeah?”

“... Thanks. For giving Aziraphale that charm”

“Make sure he doesn’t lose it” With that she hung up. Crowley sighed, dialled the bookshop and checked up on Muriel to see if they heard of anything. There was no news, but plenty of new questions. He smiled and answered happily.

 

Three days have now passed and neither Archangels have shown up. Crowley had spent more time pacing, cleaning the kitchen, and eyeing the front lawn and porch. He tried calling Raphael a few more times with no luck and Gabriel was... well, Gabriel. The former demon even attempted to contact Beelzebub (something he never thought he’d do out of needing help) and zey sent him a freaking emoji. He felt like he was being messed with and didn’t try communicating any further than that. Something was wrong. Something had happened, and he didn’t like not knowing what. For a brief moment, he almost believed Raphael lied to him, but no. Angels were horrible liars. They told half truths, sure, hid facts with other facts, okay, but never outright lied.

Crowley checked his watch again, it was nearly 7 P.M. He paced the foyer some more. He should go to the bookshop, that’s where Raphael was going to meet Gabriel, right? Gabriel wouldn’t go back to Heaven. The bookshop was a safe bet, but Aziraphale couldn’t go back to the bookshop. It wasn’t safe for him. Crowley growled and pulled at his hair until it hurt. This wasn’t helping. Something needed to be done now! He could call Muriel, they might have some inkling of what’s been going on. He really didn’t want to drag them into this mess though, Crowley didn’t know how he’d deal if anything bad happened to the little angel. Since when had he gotten so soft? A thud upstairs drew Crowley’s attention. Since Aziraphale dizzy spell four days ago (technically, it was 3 days, 8 hours, 29 minutes and 37 seconds), he’d been resting in his room (under Crowley’s orders. Aziraphale didn’t argue since he had been wanting some alone time to think and digest all the new information he acquired. They didn’t talk about what happened before they met in Marjorie’s rented room. His head had also been in more pain as of late). Curious, the former demon crept up the stairs and stalked towards the closed door. He put his ear to it and listened. He could hear Aziraphale mumbling to himself and a rattle of what sounded like keys. As quietly as he could, he turned the knob and opened the door to take a peek inside. Crowley spotted the bed empty, he opened the door further to see Aziraphale in the corner of the bedroom kneeling with his set of keys in his hands.

 

The angel shuffled through the keys, inspecting them closely before continuing on. Crowley looked between the keys and what Aziraphale was kneeling in front of; it was the chest he brought up. Just as he put the pieces together, he heard Aziraphale make a triumphant “AHA!”, pumping his fist in the air. Quickly, he slotted the key into the lock and turned. Crowley opened the door more, walking in and leaning against the wall. Aziraphale had yet to notice his presence. He watched the angel listening to the chest unlocking, and as he laid his shaking hands on the lid, Crowley spoke.

“Finally got that thing to open?” He watched in amusement as Aziraphale jumped in surprise, his head turning to look at Crowley. For a second, he looked like a child getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar he had finally got a hold of. The angel blinked and straightened his shoulders.

“Crowley! I wasn’t expecting to see you up here. Any, uh, word from our guests?” Crowley shook his head.

“Nope” He popped the ‘p’. “Don’t think they’ll be stopping over today, either.” Aziraphale’s eyes lowered and shoulders sunk.

“Oh” He sighed dejected. Crowley’s chest twisted uncomfortably. He didn’t like the idea anymore than Aziraphale. He looked towards the chest. Aziraphale had finally got it unlocked. He knew he should remove it, take it away just in case whatever was inside would hurt his angel more, but his curiosity had a tendency to get the best of him in the worst moments. This time was no exception.

 

“What’s inside?” When Aziraphale looked up questioning, Crowley nodded towards the chest. The angel looked and gave a surprised ‘oh!’ as if he forgot it was even there. Crowley pushed off the wall and made his way closer, watching the angel open the chest. When he stopped next to Aziraphale, the angel moved over just enough to give him room to sit beside him and see for himself. Awkwardly, slowly, Crowley lowered himself to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with him. It felt odd to see something Aziraphale had kept hidden away. He honestly didn’t know Aziraphale kept chests hidden away. Must’ve been something extremely important. He peeked inside once Aziraphale opened the lid and his eyes widened. He saw thick, numbered books inside, which he guessed corresponded to the years they were written. The very top one was clearly the newest; a thick scaly maroon cover with golden metal corners. On the cover read ‘2021-2023 by A.Z. Fell’. Crowley shifted his weight and looked inside the chest again. There were fifteen more... Aziraphale had diaries he wrote in... And this was just one of possibly many chests. He’d yell at Aziraphale for being reckless if he’d known about them sooner. (It should also be mentioned that 15 diaries as thick as his misprinted bibles should not be able to fit in a chest that should only originally carry six misprinted bibles max with a foot of space left, but Aziraphale expected it all to fit and so it did. Aziraphale, thinking he’s human currently, does in no way to find this strange. His perception is a little warped when it comes to his belongings)

Crowley was at war with himself now. He should leave Aziraphale be with the one diary and take the chest with some sort of excuse. On the other hand, his curiosity has peaked even more. Aziraphale cleared his throat and Crowley turned to see that during his dilemma, he had unconsciously leaned in closer. He moved away immediately and cleared his own throat. “Would you...” Aziraphale’s fingers drummed on the cover of the current diary in his hand. “Would you like to stay?” Did Aziraphale not know-

“You never told me you had diaries...”

“Ah...” His eyes turned back to the diary in his hands. “I suppose that would make sense. Private thoughts and... all that.” Aziraphale’s fingers continued to drum on the cover. He’d been so determined to learn who he was and now that he had answers, he didn’t seem to make a move to flip the cover open. He was scared, why? Crowley didn’t understand. If the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t have hesitated to start reading. Of course, he wasn’t one to write down his thoughts and emotions. Demons didn’t do that. Besides, reading was hard enough for him at the worst of times. He would rather create his emotions than write them.

 

He should do something. Maybe make some dinner for Aziraphale? He hasn’t eaten since lunch and has to be hungry by now. Maybe they could just forget the world for a while. Mind made up, Crowley jumped to his feet and startled Aziraphale in the process. The former demon took the diary from Aziraphale’s limp hands and carefully tossed it back into the chest. He then reached his hand out, “C’mon, angel. Let’s get ya some food. It wouldn’t do ya any good to be sittin’ here with all those. If ya start now, you’ll miss dinner and possibly even breakfast, and we can’t have that.” Aziraphale took his hand and Crowley pulled him up.

“I suppose you’re right. Maybe we could go out? There’s a lovely little Italian place-“

“No” Aziraphale let go of Crowley’s hand and began twisting his own. Oh no, he knew were this was going.

“Oh, please Crowley. It’s a very small place-“

“Don’t care. Not gonna happen” Crowley crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow. He absolutely refused to look up at Aziraphale’s face. Knowing for a fact that Pout was going to be there. He will NOT give in.

 

Aziraphale took a step closer and into Crowley’s personal space. Crowley held his breath, this was new. He looked up and cursed himself; the angel’s eyes were round and pleading, the corners of those plump lips turned down just enough to form a pout. For Someone’s sake, how can Aziraphale make that face and sleep at night?! Doesn’t he know what he does to Crowley?! Well, the former demon supposed not right now (Oh au contraire, silly serpent. One doesn’t need memories to have sight), but if Aziraphale wasn’t pushing it. “Just for dinner? Then we can return to the cottage, as you like. We can even have a nice bottle of your choosing.” Crowley growled, shaking his head. Shaking his head, then turned into moving his head into a circle, a fight between shaking and nodding. He threw his hands up and stepped back.

“Fine! Get your coat and let’s go.” Glancing back, he saw Aziraphale’s smug smile and his whole body wiggle. Crowley was going to make him pay for that. He rushed down the stairs and stood in the foyer. Luckily, he didn’t need to pretend to start the Bentley early; the weather outside had warmed up some. Somehow, that put the former demon more on edge. Crowley nearly jumped at the sound of his phone ringing. Tugging it free from its tiny space, he rushed to answer. Please let it be Muriel or Beelzebub or someone with a damn-

 

“Crowley, sir?” Damn it! It was Eric, not that he hadn’t been wondering how he was getting on in the flat. Completely forgot to check in on him.

“Yes?”

“Uhm...” The former demon could hear the other demon’s nerves through the phone. His breathing was slightly quick, and he didn’t have to be there to know that Eric was glancing around anxiously.

“There is a strange human at your door asking for you? I had, uh, told her you weren’t in and she asked who I wasandIdidn’tknow-“

“Woah Eric, slow down. Take a deep breath. Did she say what her name was? What does she look like?”

“She, uh, said her name was Agatha” Crowley sighed heavily and covered his face with his hand. Agatha, his elderly neighbor, always had impeccable timing. She was a sweet old lady to pawn off his more misbehaving plants, always gave him more food and telling him he needed to ‘get some meat on them bones”, she was also an amazing person to talk to when he drank too much.

 

Now, this created a dilemma. Agatha wouldn’t leave his doorstep without knowing he was alright and wouldn’t listen to anyone else unless he told her who they were himself. (The day Crowley set off to Aziraphale’s bookshop during the swap, Agatha had stopped him and inquired their relationship to each other. Then proceeded Crowley-turned-Aziraphale not to hurt poor, dear Crowley or else. Crowley did his absolute best not to laugh at the time and respond like the angel would. Later, he-as-himself told Agatha that was his angel and not to worry.) However, he had already told Aziraphale that he’d take him out to eat. There just was no getting out of this. He’ll have to make a quick stop in Mayfair and tell his neighbor who the kid was. Agatha wasn’t good with phones and he highly doubted Eric wanted to get close enough to hand her the phone he had. The former demon sighed in defeat.

“Alright, tell her I’m on my way. Give me a half hour” He hung up and turned to see Aziraphale carefully making his way down the stairs, cane in hand. Crowley’s brows knitted and took long strides over to the angel. “You sure you still wanna go out? I could just pick up takeout-“ Aziraphale waved his hand dismissively.

“Nothing to fret about, my dear. Just a bit sore is all. Once I get moving, I’m sure I’ll loosen up a bit.” Crowley grunted and offered his arm. The angel smiled and took it, indulging the former demon. They walked to the foyer together, Crowley waited for Aziraphale to put on his coat and scarf, waited for Aziraphale to take his arm again and out the door they went.

 

“If you don’t mind my asking, who was that on the phone? Sounded like a bit of trouble.” Crowley’s free hand swirled as he came up with the words.

“Just a neighbor back at my flat checking in. We gotta stop by, so she knows I invited someone over. Nosy old coot buts into my business a lot.”

“I think it’s rather nice of her to care for your wellbeing so much. I’d like to meet her”

“Oh, she’d like you,” Crowley opened the passenger door and helped Aziraphale inside. “After interrogating you first. I think she sees me as some sort of orphan with no family. Can’t imagine why.”

“If you’ve rarely ever invited someone over, I imagine that right there’s your answer. She probably thinks you’re lonely and needs some motherly attention.” Crowley scoffed, closed the angel’s door, dashed to his side and hopped in.

“Motherly attention. Lonely,” Crowley scoffed again and started the engine. “She barely knows a thing about me (she knows more about him than he knows- or rather- remembers).” The former demon shifted gears, turned around, and they were off back to London.

Notes:

This was a bit of a difficult chapter to write. Though the next point for the next demon felt right, the rest... Was a bit tough. The next chapter is gonna be a doozy!

Chapter 11: Help in the Most Unexpected Ways

Summary:

Enter Hastur.

Warning! Blood, near vehicle accident, violence and death occur!

They stopped in Mayfair first. Crowley was too on edge, and in all honesty, worried for his neighbor’s wellbeing. Not that he didn’t trust Eric to not hurt her. He was just worried she might have a stroke or something. He parked in the familiar spot he always did and turned to Aziraphale. With the Bentley warded against Heaven’s angels, it was the safest place for the angel right now. He wasn’t also going to risk bringing Aziraphale in on top of having him here in the first place. If Shax or some other demon popped up right now, they’d be in big trouble. Someone, why did this angel have to be so stubborn?!

The former demon tried to convince Aziraphale to wait at the chosen restaurant while he went to Mayfair and dealt with the issue. “It’d only take fifteen minutes tops” He’d said. Aziraphale could spend that time perusing the menu and he’d still get back before the angel was ready to fully order. The angel refused and insisted on coming along instead. He didn’t want to be left alone in the restaurant and without knowing if Crowley would be running behind or something else came up. If Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d believed Aziraphale was worried for him. He found that both endearing and ridiculous at the same time. He really had nothing to worry about.

As Crowley turned in his seat to tell Aziraphale the plan, he saw the angel’s back straighten and his eyes widen. He watched Aziraphale look around outside the car on high alert. Confused, he stretched his senses out; the area felt a more demonic than usual, but that was to be expected with the mark Hell’s left on this place and Eric currently up in his flat. Still, he didn’t think Aziraphale had any of his senses to feel out anything- being practically human and all (Actually, as Crowley seems to have misunderstood, only Aziraphale’s memories were locked away. That doesn’t mean everything else was. So where Crowley understands the whole senses business and can use his energy at full capacity, Aziraphale doesn’t remember anything of that. Right now, his senses to him are more like feelings- gut feelings, to be precise. Kind of like how an animal can sense danger or has those instincts loads of humans either have and ignore or just don’t).

 

“Wait,” Crowley opened his mouth to inquire why when all his attention zoned in on that manicured hand landed on his upper arm. The heat radiating on that one part magnified and warmed his entire arm and shoulder up in an instant. “Something’s wrong.” Crowley opened his mouth, but couldn’t seem to form words. He could only question.

“Huh?” Aziraphale looked at Crowley.

“Are you sure this can’t wait? I have this... terrible feeling” Crowley shook his head and extracted his arm from Aziraphale’s grasp, as painful as it was to do.

“No, Agatha isn’t the type of person to wait when she’s worried about something. Stay here, I’ll be back in a few” Crowley turned to open his door when he heard the buckle unclasp.

“I’m coming with you.” He turned quickly, reached across Aziraphale’s body and slammed the passenger door back shut. “Crowley!” Aziraphale turned and narrowed his eyes at him.

 

“Not a chance.” Crowley hissed, “You are staying right here where it’s safe” Aziraphale actually rolled his eyes at him.

“I can defend myself” He motioned towards the cane currently sitting in the back seat. This was ridiculous.

“A cane won’t save you from the people who want you.”

“I think you’d find it rather would-“

“Dammit Aziraphale, just let me protect you!” All argument died on Aziraphale’s tongue and he clamped his mouth shut. Crowley’s own also slammed shut. They didn’t admit things to one another. Never had the former demon said anything remotely close to what he just blurted out. He swore he’d never reveal any of his feelings to the angel again after the last disaster and now here he was doing it again. “Jusssst,” the former demon growled at the sibilant overtaking his tongue, “ssstay here. Don’t make me ask again.” Aziraphale didn’t move. He simply stared at the demon, his eyes roaming over his face before giving a curt nod. 

 

Crowley was out of the car and into the building within seconds. He entered the lift and smashed his floor’s number, bouncing the entire way, unable to keep still. He was nervous, not sure of what to expect when he reached his floor. The second the doors opened, he squeezed through and practically ran to his door to find Agatha standing there and waiting. The elderly lady turned and gave him a relieved smile, her wrinkled hand coming up to the front of her chest and resting over her heart. He gave her a smile and a nod, “Agatha,” He greeted as he always did.

“Oh, bless my stars!” Her sweet voice shook, her slate-colored eyes crinkling the closer he got. He stopped right in front of her next to the door. “You haven’t been home for some time. I was beginning to worry. And then when the young man,” She pointed towards the door with a shaky finger, “Entered- Well, I didn’t know what to think!”

“It’s alright,” He calmly responded, “I invited him over. Needed a place to stay, and I had some things to attend to.”

“Oh, bless your sweet heart, my dear! Your kindness knows no bounds.” Crowley tried not to bristle at the compliments. “Now that I know nothing terrible has happened to you, I can rest easy.”

“And that you should.” Crowley stepped beside her with a hand on her back and guided her towards her flat. She laughed at him like he was a teenager trying to hurry his mom out the door so he could have the house all to himself.

 

“Oh!” She stopped suddenly and opened her purse she had. She must’ve been returning home before noticing something was amiss in his flat (that something which was Eric who had sighed in relief to no longer having to deal with the old woman) “There was a reason I stopped by today.” Crowley watched as she drew an envelope out of her brown leather handbag and offered it to him. His brows knitted together and took the envelope with his name on it. “Been passed down in my family for a few generations. My grandfather moved to England after meeting my grandmother- did I ever tell you that? It was as if Fate had brought them together” The white-permed woman sighed wistfully. “He was given a letter just like that one. It was the best thing to have ever happened to him.”

“How come you never gave it to me before?” He couldn’t help but ask. Crowley tore his eyes away from the ancient letter in his hand to his short neighbor. She shook her head with a soft smile and patted his arm.

“It wasn’t the right time. There were instructions to give it to you on this exact day. I hope it leads you to the same happiness as it did my grandfather, my dear” She gave his cheek a fond pat and waddled the rest of her way back to her flat. Crowley watched her go until her verdant green heel disappeared and the door closed. He walked back towards his flat and opened the door.

 

Once he stepped inside, he noticed Eric spin and jump back. Crowley pushed the door shut and raised an eyebrow. “Is she gone for good?” He asked. Crowley couldn’t help but find it funny that a demon was scared of a little old lady. The worst she could do is whack him with her handbag and give him a good lecturing (something he once experienced after being caught gluing pennies to the pavement outside their building. He was quite impressed how she snuck up on him and reminded him so much of his angel).

“Yeah, she won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“Oh, thank Satan.” Eric blew out a gusty breath.

“I wouldn’t thank him for this.” Crowley commented. He made his way to his kitchen and immediately tore the letter open to reveal what was inside. His eyes read the words, then read them again more carefully. Oh, Someone, it was from that witch;

        Ones the tode falleth by holy blade, take thy foolish Principality to wher thou findest comfort. Withinne the shoppe of tales and trinkets sitteth one that is not to be red. Pul and reuele the secretes beneath, ridiculous serpent of Eden. Take the daft archangel wit thee and undo what hath been done.

 

The former demon scowled at the words. He couldn’t understand much of what she was saying! He squinted his eyes and mouthed the words carefully. Shop of tales and trinkets must be the bookshop. A book not meant to be read? Secrets beneath? What the deuce was she on about?! He knew that bookshop inside and out like the back of his wings. There were no other secrets it hides that he doesn’t know about. Crowley put his head in his hands and growled under his breath. Aziraphale would know what this meant. He could decipher Agnes’s letter to him in just a few hours. Compared to her other prophecies, she left for them, this is nothing!

Crowley read it again and again, but no other lines became straight forward. Although, the beginning was starting to feel off. Ones the tode... Once the toad- “Hastur!” Crowley’s outburst scared Eric, making him jump and turn wide terrified eyes towards the retired demon. “Eric,” the former demon whirled around the counter and approached the other quickly. He gripped him by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes, “Have you seen or heard from Hastur at all recently?” The other demon’s eyes darted in thought. Before long, he was shaking his head.

“Sorry sir- Crowley, no one’s seen him since The Game started.” Shit, that was a bad sign. He thought back to before he came in, before he left Aziraphale in the Bentley. The angel had been uneasy, asking to join him inside or even to come back another day. He also felt a boost in Demonic energy, but he chalked it up to Eric being here as well. Maybe there was someone else around after all. Aziraphale may have forgotten what he was, but Crowley had been learning over the time since his return that the angel still had his Senses about him.

 

“Eric, think ya can do me a favor?”

“Depends?” Eric questioned cautiously.

“Call me the moment you hear anything about Hastur. Same goes if you feel yer life is at risk. Got it?” Eric nodded, his eyes showing his anxiety to the entire situation he’s found himself in. Crowley patted one of the demon’s shoulders with a toothy grin. “Good lad. Take care of yourself, Eric.” Crowley spun on his heel and sauntered toward the door and left his flat. He hoped he didn’t look like he was in too much of a hurry to leave. Taking the steps back down two at a time, a mantra of shitshitshit played on loop in the former demon’s head.

Crowley burst out the building’s doors to find the Bentley still sitting exactly where he’d left it with the angel watching him. He looked around from behind his shades, using his tongue to scent out that toad’s stench. It was there alright, but he wasn’t sure where Hastur was now. His steps hurried to the Bentley, swung the driver’s door open, and hopped in quickly.

 

“Everything alright?” Aziraphale asked, his worry shining through in his voice. Crowley grunted, still looking around outside. He reached for the keys in the ignition and turned, his car rumbling to life. Crowley’s attention snapped to the radio, surprised to find it not playing Queen. Instead, “Every Breath You Take” by The Police had started up in the most random place. The Bentley rarely ever played other music, always playing some variation of Queen and sometimes classical music just to cheer the angel next to him up. To choose this song... the former demon’s blood ran cold. Crowley’s hidden gaze shifted up to see Aziraphale’s attention turned outside of the passenger window.

Deciding to ignore the weirdness, he shifted gears and pressed down the gas. Crowley’s eyes continued to dart around as they drove through Mayfair. It wasn’t safe to eat in town anymore or stay for very long. His white-knuckled grip tightening even more. He continued to loop that prophecy (which sat in his pocket like an anvil dragging him underwater). Hastur would be making an appearance soon, but when and where? Were they safe to return to the cottage? Does Hastur know whe- the radio turned to static the moment they exited London. Crowley gritted his teeth and slammed the radio in hopes to silence it, but nothing happened. He pushed the gas down farther, scaring Aziraphale next to him. “Crowley, slow down! What’s gotten into you?”

 

“Yes Crawly~” A familiar, disgusting voice drawled through the static of the radio. “What has gotten into you?” Both the angel and demon stared at the radio; Aziraphale’s face paling in fear, Crowley’s for almost the same reason. Hastur chuckled darkly, “No witty comeback for me? I’ve never heard you so silent before.” He was being taunted, he knew as much. He had half a mind to find the closest bus stop, pull over and have Aziraphale hop onto the first bus home, but he couldn’t do that to the angel. Hastur knew they were together now, he didn’t know if they’d even make it.

“Hastur! How’s things been going Downstairs?” Crowley quickly put a finger to Aziraphale’s lips to stop whatever questions the angel could have. He prayed Aziraphale would stay silent and wouldn’t be thrown into pain. Hastur snarled through the static.

“What’s it matter to you? You left. No more responsibilities for you, isn’t that right? But I’ve got things to do. Such as come say hello” Crowley could see out of the corner of his eye Aziraphale mouthing the word ‘what?’. The former shook his head pleadingly.

“Unfortunately, today’s not a good day,” Crowley replied with as much coolness as he could muster. “On my way somewhere important. Perhaps you could visit later?”

“I know you know about the Game, Crawly.” Crowley’s jaw clenched. “I also know you have the angel with you right now- unless ye’ve gotten betta at impressions. Losing the angel finally drive ya mad?” Crowley remained silent, the nerve in his jaw ticking with his pulse. “Nothin’ to say? Well, I s’pose I should come see for m’self then”

 

“Crowley, look out!” Aziraphale’s voice rang, pointing his finger out the window at the toad demon standing in the middle of the dark road. Crowley, who really would just rather hit Hastur to teach him a lesson, swerved out of the way. He didn’t know if he could explain to Aziraphale that the man-shaped being wasn’t dead, just discorporated (and as much as Crowley would like to run him over, he didn’t want to damage his Bentley nor clean her of that filth). The ringing of a miracle rang through the air and then the sound of tires popping followed. They lurched forward by the force of suddenly not having two front tires. The former demon tried to keep the Bentley on the road, but soon lost some control. It was a miracle for them to not go fully into the ditch or even flip over, but the sudden whiplash still left them both in a daze.

Crowley blinked his eyes open and clutched his head, a weird feeling of numbness filled his head. He looked over to find Aziraphale’s head lolled toward the window, his eyes closed like he’d fallen asleep. “Aziraphale?” Crowley called softly. The angel did not stir. The former demon reached out with his hand and gently grasped his shoulder to shake him lightly. “Angel?” Aziraphale hummed, a sound that made Crowley’s pounding heart settle back down from its building panic. “You alright?” Aziraphale nodded, then groaned in pain by the movement. Crowley’s thumb rubbed over the angel’s shoulder in hopes of giving him some comfort.

 

What happened next was a bit of a blur. He had been leaning over close to make sure Aziraphale was alright, and the next his door was being opened and he was forcibly yanked out of his seat and thrown to the cold and wet gravel beside the road. Crowley lifted his now bleeding hand up to prevent himself being further blinded by one of the bright headlights of his car. Looming over him stood the Duke of Hell, his fists clenched and eyes burning with gleeful malice. “Ya’d best stay down ‘f ya know what’s good for you” Hastur croaked, his smile revealing his nasty teeth. He turned and began to stalk towards the other side of the vehicle. Crowley forced himself to leap from his spot on the ground and hugged Hastur’s legs, making him fall into the muddy snow face first. He twisted in Crowley’s grip and tried to shake the former demon off with barely any luck.

Fists then pounded at the back of Crowley’s skull and shoulders, but he refused to let go. He’d rather be smited- smote- whatever than to let this filthy demon near his angel. Crowley willed his incisors to elongate in his mouth, feeling the venom course and ready to flood whoever he bit’s system. He didn’t know how a Duke of Hell would fare against his bite, but he was willing to suffer the future taste to protect the one he- the sound of the passenger door opening grabbed both demons’ attentions. The smell of peanuts wafted in Crowley’s nose, and soon Hastur was touching his face with wet hands. The former demon gagged and loosened his grip on Hastur’s legs, his skin igniting with irritation. Damn that toad! He should have bitten him when he had the chance.

 

The sound of Aziraphale’s distress got Crowley to focus on something else other than his own irritating discomfort. He blinked his blurry eyes open to see Aziraphale leaning heavily against the car, still half inside with his arm in the back seat. Hastur leapt at the angel, who dodged out of the way, but quickly stumbled and rolled down the small muddy slope a few yards away. Hastur was already on the move, carefully making his way down to the angel. Crowley scrambled to his feet and leapt at Hastur, both of them now tumbling down the rest of the way, entangled together. Once they reached the bottom, Crowley’s head was pounding like someone had taken an icepick to it. He groaned in pain, forcing his eyes open to see Hastur struggling to his feet, partially crawling towards the angel who was also struggling to stand. In the angel’s hands, though, was his cane. He must have been reaching for it when Hastur cornered him up by the Bentley.

The moment Aziraphale was standing, he had one hand clutched to the cane’s hilt. His face contorted in agony and fury. What Crowley hadn’t expected was to see the angel pulling a sword from his cane. The former demon couldn’t help but let his jaw drop in shock. Aziraphale’s had another sword this entire time?! When-Where- Why??? The holy blade... That must’ve been what Agnes was referring to! Crowley clenched his teeth and pulled himself up into a sitting position. He had to get to Aziraphale’s side, he clearly was feeling worse. The angel had removed one of his hands from the sword’s hilt to the side of his head, pressing firmly to alleviate some of the pain there. Crowley wasn’t sure it was helping, but he hoped it was.

 

Holy flames did not surround the sword like most holy blades were in Heaven, but there was a certain glow around it that felt warm even from the distance Crowley was at. Hastur stopped in his tracks upon seeing the blade, but he soon chuckled and continued onward. Aziraphale gulped and his eyes darted frantically. The angel never liked hurting people, not even demons, so it wasn’t any surprise he was hesitating, but now was the wrong time to freeze. Hastur will tear him apart the moment he gets the chance to. Hastur snapped his fingers and a spiked whip appeared in one of his hands. Aziraphale’s eyes widened, staring at the whip that wasn’t there a moment ago. He doubled over and gasped at the pain in his head, his eyes tightly shut. The toad demon advanced on him and raised the whip to strike. Crowley scrambled to his feet, believing with all his power that he was faster than that whip was to come down and strike his angel. The world slowed and, before long, he was standing in front of Aziraphale with his hand raised to catch the slow-moving whip. Unfortunately, time had sped back up to its normal speed and the whip stung his hand down to his arm, but he caught just the tail end of it. Ignoring the stinging pain in his palm, he brought his other hand forward, gripped the whip, and yanked. Hastur, being a duke and having more power than him, did not let go so easily. They tugged at each end like a game of tug-of-war, hoping to win out over the other. The blood seeping from Crowley’s open hand made the whip slippery, slowly sliding out of his tight grasp.

Quickly, he wound the end tightly around his wounded hand, ignoring the tiny barbs digging further into his raw flesh. “You know, you’ve always been a pathetic demon, Crowley!” Hastur shouted, “Mucking around with that angel, and how does he repay you?! He’s worse than those blokes up in Heaven. Hell, he might even be worse than us demons. I’ve seen how he treats you and it’s sickening”

“Is there a bloody point to this?!” Crowley growled through his teeth, pulling harder, to no avail. Hastur shrugged.

“No point, really. Just this” Hastur’s one hand released the whip and raised, shooting Hellfire beside Crowley’s head. Crowley, acting as quickly as he could, unfurled his wings and let the Hellfire seep into the black feathers. The sudden heat burned in the frigidly cold air, but that was alright. Just as long as none of it touched his angel.

 

“Just as I thought.” Hastur chuckled. “Why would you need to protect your friend if he were immune to Hellfire? I still don’t know how you survived the Holy Water, but I’m bettin’ ya both did somethin’. Once I’m through with you, you’ll get to watch as I tear your angel to shreds and then, just you wait, because I’ll tell the Dark Council of this.”

“You will do no such thing” Suddenly, a blinding bright light shot passed the former demon from behind directly towards Hastur. The toad demon’s eyes widened in surprise. The bright whiteness quickly engulfed his body, and then he poofed out of existence. Only embers of ash remained, falling to the slippery ground. Crowley had lurched backward and fell by the force he had been pulling, suddenly disappearing. He rubbed his aching tailbone and looked up to see Aziraphale standing rigidly straight. The sword remained pointing towards where Hastur once was, and his breathing laboured. The arm holding the sword up fell and, not a moment later, the angel’s knees gave out, and he began to collapse. Crowley sprang toward him, catching him before he could completely collapse to the ground and hurt himself.

The angel’s eyes were glossed over with pain, his breathing stuttering and his one free hand that had dropped the cane-sheath-thing reached up and clutched at the front of the former demon’s thick jacket. Using his non bloodied hand, he cupped Aziraphale’s cheek and looked into his eyes. He didn’t know what just happened, really; whether Aziraphale just discorporated the Duke or destroyed him, it didn’t fully matter at the moment. “Aziraphale... what-“

 

“Crowley,” The angel’s eyes closed and leaned into Crowley’s touch, “please, take me back to the bookshop.” Crowley shook his head.

“It’s too dangerous right now. I’ll take you back to the cottage-“

“Listen to me, my dear. W-we have to go there now. B-before they find us...”

“What?” Did that mean that Aziraphale remembered? And how would the bookshop be safe?

“I don’t think they sensed that energy blast, but just in case we need to get to the safe room”

“Aziraphale, I don’t understand” He was having a hard time keeping up.

 

“Trust me, darling. Please” Crowley’s breathing hitched. Aziraphale couldn’t have meant that slip up. There’s no way he knew what he was saying. Crowley shut his eyes and mentally counted to ten. He still wasn’t very good with that whole counting concept, but he found it helped him calm before panic fully set in. He scooped the angel up into his arms, clutching his wounded hand to prevent as little blood as possible from ruining the angel’s clothes. As long as Aziraphale wouldn’t notice, he could miracle away whatever small blood spot there was. He wouldn’t be able to fully avoid bleeding on the angel.

He made his way up the small slope, the strange numbness in his head slowly fading to make way for the ache he had fully expected. His adrenaline rush slowly dropping, making the exhaustion seep in. Once at the passenger side, he carefully lowered Aziraphale inside. Crowley turned to look in the back and saw the cane already sitting back there (it was always where Aziraphale imagined it’d be) along with one of Aziraphale’s diaries. The angel must’ve snuck it with him to read while Crowley was inside his flat. That couldn’t be right; the phone call happened after they already made plans. Whatever the reason, it might have been one of the causes for Aziraphale’s pain and sudden remembrance (though Crowley still wasn’t sure how much the angel remembered).

Crowley made sure that Aziraphale was buckled and comfortable. He looked up to see Aziraphale’s eyes squeezed shut. Without thinking, he swept his hand through the angel’s curls, moving them back from his forehead. Their tumble had left them both damp and dirty, Aziraphale will be mourning the state of his attire after he feels better. The former demon pulled back, shut the passenger door and made his way around the Bentley; her front tires whole and looking new again. He hopped in on his side, turned the ignition, and turned back towards London. Later into the drive, Crowley would remember the prophecy again and hope what Agnes said to be true.

Notes:

This fight scene took a couple days to write so some of the flow did get lost. Work's still pretty crazy, but I REALLy wanted to finish this chapter. Please let me know what ya think and have a lovely day/night!

Chapter 12: Part 1: Unlocking

Summary:

Aziraphale's time to remember has come. Enter Gabriel being... well Gabriel, Beelzebub just along for the ride, and Raziel taking Raphael's place.

WARNING! Panic attack ahead and mentions of blood.

Notes:

Welp, I got an unexpected day off and finished this last night, so here ya go! Just to clarify, I'm not an expert in how to help someone calm from a panic attack and they are not human.

Aziraphale’s mind was a whirlwind of confusion. Flashes of things that told him he was an angel battled with his mind that told him he was human; that angels and demons were not really real. He believed in God and the concepts of Heaven and Hell, but the actuality of it all was inconceivable. He saw flashes of white everywhere; walls, floors, ceiling, even doors. He saw others in white and light colored uniform walk by. Then he saw a book in his hands that brought a strong bout of agony to his head. Aziraphale gritted his teeth and clutched at the passenger door. A questioning voice called to him, but the white-blonde-angel- whatever he was now, was having a hard time comprehending what it was saying. Aziraphale felt comforted by it though, a sense of longing to hear it again made itself known through a needy sound coming from him. A gentle, bony hand landed on top of his clenched fist, gently urging the fingers to loosen their grip on his trousers and intertwine with those cool fingers instead. He held to them tightly, a soothing sensation filling his body and helping him relax. He didn’t know how that was possible, but he couldn’t care less right then.

Aziraphale tried to collect his senses. He blasted a person, a demon, with Celestial Energy. His Celestial Energy. Not only that, but Crowley was a demon too- well, more or less it seemed. He knew he should be freaking about this, he was a little. It made some things make sense, like how Crowley kept tiptoeing around certain subjects, what Marjorie had told him back in the village, those pills that helped with the pain but also suppressed his memories he’d just get back. Dr. Raph was none other than the Archangel Raphael- wait. Was he? That part he didn’t feel entirely certain about.

 

The Bentley’s motion rolled to a stop. It took some effort, but Aziraphale peeled his eyes open just enough to see they had stopped outside of the bookshop. He looked down and saw Crowley’s hand still intertwined with his. “Aziraphale?” Crowley’s muffled voice started to break through the fog in Aziraphale’s brain. He looked over at his counterpart, his longtime best friend, his Crowley. Crowley, who’s dirty face was looking at his (the angel didn’t even want to think of how terrible of a state he was in), beautiful brows furrowed with worry. They should never look worried, not even for him. “Are you with me, angel?” Aziraphale sighed. He never thought Crowley would use that nickname again unless it was laced with hatred and disdain. Instead, it sounded as loving as it always had.

“Yes” He blew out with little energy.

“I’m going to come around and help you out, ok? Think ya can stand?” Could he stand? He wasn’t sure. Crowley gave his hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. He turned to the driver’s door and hopped out, walking around when he was stopped by someone calling his name. Aziraphale’s eyes watched as a woman he remembered named Nina walked over. Aziraphale watched their body language, their conversation too quiet for him to hear. Crowley pointed to him in the car, and Nina’s eyes narrowed when they landed on him. Her face contorted with disapproval, then pointed at Crowley’s unseen hand. The hand Aziraphale remembered was covered in blood. He really should help Crowley take care of it, but he didn’t even have the strength to move much.

 

He tried anyway, moving his stiff arm up and opening the passenger door. He turned his body, painstakingly slowly, til his feet landed on the pavement. A pair of snakeskin boots entered his peripheral vision and then there was Crowley’s face. “Well, when he’s well enough again,” Nina’s irate voice spoke nearby, “I’ve got a few choice words for him. I still don’t think you should be helping him.” Aziraphale tried to conceal the wince that provoked.

“He can still hear you, you know,” Crowley replied, clearly irritated. “He is conscious”

“Good, makes this even better.” Nina knelt down as well, waiting for the white-blonde to acknowledge her before speaking again. “When you remember everything, I’m giving you a piece of my mind. I don’t care what you did or how you ended up down here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Maggie’s waiting for me.” And with that, Nina stood up and walked off into the night. Crowley watched her for a minute before turning back to Aziraphale.

“We can talk about that later. Can you stand or do you need me to...” Crowley made a motion with his hands to implicate picking him up and carrying him. Aziraphale closed his eyes and thought about it.

“I think I can walk, but the support would be nice.” Aziraphale opened his eyes to see Crowley’s hands outstretched, gripping the angel’s elbows and helping him out of the Bentley. When he was standing, Crowley quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and the other held onto Aziraphale’s arm slung haphazardly around his slim shoulders. An accompanying warmth surrounded him, but he couldn't tell if it was from their proximity or something else (Crowley performed a minor miracle to clean Aziraphale and himself when he wrapped his arms around the angel. Less attention that way too) Slowly, they made their way to the steps and up to the bookshop doors.

 

The doors swung open, the jingling of the chime welcoming them as merrily as ever. It was a sound Aziraphale found himself missing even though he was just here about a week ago- or was it two? He couldn’t remember. Crowley led him further in, around the corner, and stopped. Sitting in his armchair was a young adult he vaguely remembered was Muriel and across from them were what looked like a couple; one was short with black hair, full black attire and black eyeliner under each eye. Something dark rolled off of zem in waves. The other- the white-blonde’s heart began to pick up pace. The man’s violet eyes looked at him and widened in surprise, the grin he had slipped from his chiseled face and an eyebrow cocked up. Aziraphale’s body turned more into Crowley’s on reflex.

The redhead beside him hissed and tried to approach, but stayed rooted to his spot by the angel. “Gabriel”

“Hi guys!” Gabriel’s smile quickly returned, but it wasn’t as jovial as it had been with Muriel and his- partner? That seemed to be the right word. “Heard you were in some mess.”

“When did you both get here?!” Crowley shrieked. Aziraphale wished he could help him calm down, but he was having a hard time trying to keep up with what was happening.

“We just got to Earth a few days ago. Beez and I stopped at a couple of places before arriving here. Raphael was supposed to meet us, but we hadn’t seen him at all, so we just started chatting with Muriel. By the way, Aziraphale, I’m really surprised at you. You can’t leave a new agent alone on Earth for a month and a half! It’s not like when the planet was new”

 

“Oh, don’t you start that! Aziraphale’s literally in no condition for a lecture that size right now and he’s not entirely at fault!” Crowley defended. Aziraphale clutched at his shoulder harder, his knees buckling and threatening to give out. Seeing what was happening, the redhead made a complicated hand gesture and helped lower Aziraphale into a seat that was right behind him. Confused where the chair came from, he looked up at Crowley to see he was still looking at Gabriel and this Beez person. The shorter person leaned in and whispered to Gabriel before something dawned to the broader man.

“Oh yeah, right! Raphael did say something about that. Well, let’s get to it, shall we?”

“No, let’s not!” Crowley stood in front of Aziraphale, blocking Gabriel’s path to him. “We need Raph to undo whatever locking thing he did!” As the argument whether to wait or proceed continued, Aziraphale felt a strange set of eyes on them from outside. He turned his head to look and see that strange man he ran into in the village was across the street watching them. They made eye contact, and the man smiled. Aziraphale gulped, unable to break away. He jumped and looked to see Crowley’s hand in front of his face. He looked up to see Crowley looking at him with confusion. “You alright?” Aziraphale looked back out the window to see that strange man was gone. What was going on? Was the man ever there, or did he imagine the whole thing?

 

The doors opened and the chimes announced a new arrival. “Sorry I’m late!” A man’s voice called out. Everyone looked up to see a dirty blonde man in a silver suit stroll in. He stopped when he saw Gabriel and Beelzebub, making no move to come any closer.

“Raziel!” Gabriel shouted in greeting. The volume made Aziraphale wince, glad to know no one seemed to notice his involuntary reaction. Gabriel marched over and lightly punched Raziel’s shoulder. “No worries, these two slow pokes just got here as well.” Aziraphale saw Crowley’s jaw clench with agitation. He reached up and lightly brushed his fingers over Crowley’s hand. His friend jumped at the contact, but soon took his hand gently and rubbed a thumb over Aziraphale’s skin. Raziel looked to Aziraphale and his face hardened with determination. He walked by Gabriel and knelt at Aziraphale’s right side.

“Aziraphale,” Aziraphale blinked. He wasn’t sure what this man, Raziel, wanted, but whatever it was, he seemed to find it. He stood from his spot and turned to Crowley and Gabriel. “We should do it now, but I’m not sure what to expect after we unlock his memories. Raphael would know more about the ramifications than I would. He only wrote down possibilities, but never finished.”

 

“Where is Raph anyway?” Crowley asked, his poorly masked concern seeping through.

“The Metatron asked for his presence, but he has yet to be seen. We think he was taken to Reformatory” Crowley growled and pulled at his messed up hair.

“That’s just great!” 

“That seems a bit extreme” Gabriel commented.

“Not any more extreme than when you had Aziraphale sent to solitary confinement” Crowley shot back. Gabriel rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He looked at Crowley like he was a misbehaving child who got something wrong.

“He was never put in solitary. That’s for humans. We,” the man pointed at himself and Raziel (who was very uncomfortable being a part of this), “Put him in the Room of Correction by himself. Completely different”

 

“Not that I want to get in the middle of this and say what I think,” Beez interrupted from zer seat still on the couch, “But isn’t this a limited thing that needs to be taken care of? I’d also like to go back home.” Aziraphale couldn’t agree more with that statement. He wanted to go back home, too. Back to the cottage- was that his home? The bookshop always felt like home, but the cottage felt more than just that. Aziraphale closed his eyes, the buzz in his head growing loud again and drowning everything back out. More flashes of the past appeared in his mind’s eye; there was a ball and dancing, his hand laid flat against Crowley’s as they spun, the bookshop under attack by demons demanding for the angel they were hiding- Gabriel. Memories of reporting to Gabriel, being lectured and treated lesser by Gabriel, the Archangel making a few jabs at his stomach and telling him to lose the gut, the reprimands and rude notes, pain.

Aziraphale sucked in a harsh breath, something cool dripping down from his nose to his chin. A cloth was being dabbed against his lips and chin, coming away red. Crowley’s mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying. His head felt like it was being stuffed with cotton. The angel’s eyes roamed over the blurry room they were in. They were at the bookshop. They’d come here after being attacked by Hastur. He needed to get Crowley down to the safe room! Aziraphale’s mouth moved. He couldn’t hear the words he was saying, but he hoped he was saying, “You need to go to the shelf with the encyclopedias. Find the short red book. You must find the red book” He wasn’t sure if that’s what he was saying, but he hoped he was.

Crowley’s brows furrowed, confused, his head slightly shifting back and forth with his shielded eyes’ movements. His lovely mouth opened and moved, Aziraphale did his best to focus on those lip’s movements. After a hearing accident during one of the wars (he couldn’t remember which one, just one of them), he’d learned to read lips. What he got from Crowley was, “Red book? What are you talking about? This is no time to be finding a book to read!” Oh, his darling friend didn’t quite understand.

 

Aziraphale watched Crowley turn away from him towards the young person, Muriel, still in his armchair. They were telling him something with a look of glee. The young person bounced out of the chair and over to the slim (well, slimmer than the rest of the shelves) bookshelf in near a corner and the only bare wall in the entire bookshop. It wasn’t completely bare; a painting of the Tree of Knowledge was the only thing on that hung in that small space. Muriel pointed at a book on the shelf, waiting for Crowley to join them. However, he looked conflicted. Aziraphale raised a hand up slowly to grip the cloth still pressed to his bleeding nose and waved his other hand lazily for Crowley to go join her. The redhead stood and strode over to them quickly, looking at the book they were pointing at.

Aziraphale closed his eyes, doing his best to focus on the world around him. Noise slowly filtered back in, but it was all still terribly muffled. There was a muffled clink and when he opened his eyes again, the slim, bare wall opened. Dust flew everywhere, revealing the fact it hadn’t been opened in quite some time (if Aziraphale’s memories weren’t so all over the place, he’d remember the last time it was opened was back in 1939. He’d been helping hide some children and families during that time until he got orders to be elsewhere. Heaven didn’t see the point of what he was doing at the point nor knew the full extent of where the angel was hiding them.). Aziraphale could feel the angels at his back looking at him along with Crowley’s own stare. Muriel simply was smiling and clapping happily, and Beelzebub actually looked impressed.

Aziraphale tried to push himself up, but fell back into the seat with a thud. That seemed to spur Crowley back into motion and help him up. “We’re talking about that later” the angel heard Crowley murmur. Aziraphale nodded and Crowley led him to the darkened stairway. He could feel himself slipping back under the sloshy waves. He gripped to the memories he had tightly. If he was an angel, then he should be able to push on through, right? He should be able to undo whatever was done to him and remember everything! It was becoming more and more of a struggle. It felt like he was being split into two; an angel with a long history and a human with a new life. Was any of what was happening real? A flash of white surrounded him and he found himself in a padded room with a wall of some sort of scripture. There were no windows, no bed, or even a chair. It didn’t even look like there was a door. He knew this place, he’d been here before. Was he still there? Has everything he experienced been some fantasy to escape?

 

“Aziraphale!” a voice called out. Aziraphale shut his eyes tightly and raised his hands to cover his ears. What was going on?!

“Aziraphale?” A new voice called, one that sounded like that man Raziel’s. Invisible, familiar, hands gripped his wrists and pulled them away from his ears making the voices that much clearer. “Aziraphale, I’m going to unlock your memories, but I need to know where you are.”

“I-I’m-“ the white-blonde’s throat felt tight. He didn’t dare open his eyes. His breaths came too quickly and shortly. There was movement nearby and a forehead pressing to his.

“Angel,” Aziraphale bit back a sob. That soothing voice was back and so gentle. “I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that for me?” He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to see the white vastness around him. It was all so bright. “I promise you, you're safe. We’re in- looks like a refugee room. Christ Aziraphale, when did you have this place built?” Aziraphale wheezed a laugh.

“It’s always been here” He whispered. The angel could hear furious whispering somewhere, but he focused again when he heard Crowley’s small laugh.

 

“Bastard, always full of surprises. Ok, this is what we’re going to do. Name one thing you taste” Aziraphale stuttered a huff in exasperation.

“You know that’s not where it starts” He could feel Crowley shrug with their foreheads still pressed together.

“Demon, we do a bunch of things backwards.” Aziraphale didn’t feel the need to question what Crowley meant by calling himself that. Even if they were both human (which he was still struggling with) he had a feeling Crowley would refer to himself as such just because that’s who he was. “Indulge me” Aziraphale focused on the taste in his mouth. It was strange to focus on his own person and not starting the five things rule, but Crowley was usually creative in helping him when he was struggling.

“Iron” The angel absolutely refused to say blood. He must’ve gotten some in his mouth after biting his bottom lip anxiously earlier. Crowley hummed.

“Three things you hear”

“What happened to two?”

“Figured we’d skip that for now. Circle back to it” Aziraphale knew Crowley was skipping it because he still hadn’t gotten his breathing back under control. Still, the white-blonde listened.

 

“The young one- Muriel, moving about upstairs in the bookshop, cars driving by outside, and your breathing.”

“Good. Think you can focus on that, my breathing?” Aziraphale did just that, breathing deeper through his nose and exhaling it slowly out of his mouth. He was never too good with breathing exercises, but he guessed Crowley had worked with him in the past to help him find other ways to cope. When Aziraphale could properly breathe again, he answered the skipped question.

“The dust in the room and your cologne” He didn’t have to open his eyes to know Crowley was smiling.

“Almost there, four things you can feel?” Aziraphale’s shaking hands roamed.

“Your forehead pressed to mine, the dust covered floorboards...”

“Should really clean up down here,” Crowley commented, “There’s no excuse for keeping customers at bay down here.” Aziraphale did his best to shake his head as a small smile crept on his lips. That’s when it occurred to him that at some point, he’d collapsed to the floor at some point during his panic. The angel felt around some more, his hand coming into contact with something metal.

“The cool bed-frame and the old spring mattress.”

 

Slowly, Aziraphale took a breath and opened his eyes. He waited until the blurry forms came clear; Crowley’s now unshielded eyes were staring into his own. He must’ve taken them off so the metal frames weren’t digging into Aziraphale’s brow. Beyond the redhead’s shoulder were Gabriel and Raziel standing on the other end of the small room, watching them. Gabriel’s confusion was palpable. His violet eyes darted between Crowley and Aziraphale, pointing between the two questioning. “And that happens often?” Crowley leaned away from Aziraphale, turned to the Archangels, and shrugged.

“More or less. Hadn’t had one in a couple years that I know of.”

“In any case,” Raziel cut in, “We really shouldn’t waste anymore time. As much as I’d love to give Aziraphale some time to recover from that, the sooner he gets his memories back and Gabriel revokes his status, the better for everyone.”

“Ya really never waste time do you” Crowley muttered. Aziraphale reached, patted his friend’s hand still wrapped around one of his wrists.

“Raziel’s right. The sooner we take care of this, the better.” Crowley’s head whipped back toward him, a questioning look in his eyes.

 

“So, you remember what’s going on here?”

“N-not entirely. I still don’t entirely know who everyone here is or what happened with that fellow earlier. Everything still feels so fuzzy.”

“All the more reason to start.” Raziel commented. Crowley waved his hand again and the once dust-covered bed was now clean and free of any stains. He helped the angel stand enough to be able to sit on the bed. He collapsed gratefully and watched as Raziel knelt in front of him. Crowley awkwardly stood beside him, looking at war with himself. The dirty-blonde looked up and motioned for Crowley to sit down next to the angel. The redhead looked to Aziraphale with a cocked eyebrow. He nodded and was even more relaxed when Crowley sat close. He hoped this Raziel knew what he was doing. “Are you ready?” Aziraphale nodded and closed his eyes when told. Raziel narrated his each move; he placed four fingertips gently at his temples and slowly pressed firmly.

Aziraphale gasped as the metaphorical key clicked and unlocked the cage inside. Memories spanning 6,000 years flooded him at the speed of light; places, smells, humans he’d blessed and watched over, wars, the camps, plays, food, moments of peace, drunken nights, arguments, Temptations, raising Warlock, the near Apocalypse, fires, the Plagues, human diseases, Demonic and Angelic summonings, the Flood, the kiss, guarding. Every single moment. Every single memory with his Adversary, his best friend, his Crowley.

Notes:

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The breathing exercise is a bit of a reflection on my part as I don't do well with that. I find myself more likely to stop breathing all together. I do like the 5-4-3-2-1 technique and try to use it myself, but I sometimes forget when I'm overwhelmed with everything. Anywho, I'm rambling again. Please let me know what ya think and I hope you all have a lovely day/night 🩶

P.S.~ I do enjoy reading everyone's comments and look forward to it all the more!

Chapter 13: A Few Words to Start

Summary:

Aziraphale's memories have been restored. It's now time for Crowley and Aziraphale to talk... at least a little bit.

Aziraphale’s eyes glowed and he gritted his teeth against the onslaught. Crowley was trying not to panic, holding himself in place. Raziel’s own focus was glazed over as he stared into Aziraphale’s own blue eyes. He could see Aziraphale was holding himself back, never one to scream when in pain, but Crowley could see it. He’d spent 6,000 years cataloging every single micro expression the angel wore and this one revealed that Aziraphale was suffering. The former demon hated it. He hated that Aziraphale had to go through this painful process just to get his memories back. He could hear Gabriel shifting in the room, feel his intense gaze on Raziel and Aziraphale as well. Crowley heard Raziel ask Gabriel to stay silent during the process and, in turn, he would as well. They didn’t want to risk anything.

Crowley clenched his fists (ignoring the pain thrumming harsher in his still wounded hand) when he saw golden ichor spilling from Aziraphale’s eyes, his corporation slowly pulsing with unstable Ethereal energy. It was like his Angelic Core was having trouble settling within the beloved corporation. The former demon worried the process might discorporate the angel after all. All too soon and yet not soon enough, the glow from Aziraphale’s body and eyes vanished. Aziraphale’s eyes closed and he slumped forward. Crowley caught him and brought him close. He listened for the angel’s breathing and sighed with relief. Raziel had slumped back on his heels, sweat glistening on his brow. “It’s done” He answered Crowley’s unasked question heavily. “Give him some time to recover his strength, then Gabriel can continue.”

“We can’t just do it now? Beez and I weren’t planning to stick around this long” Both Crowley and Raziel leveled Gabriel with a look. The Archangel sighed, “Alright, I’ll go inform zem. How long should we wait? A few minutes or hours?”

 

“Give him a day.” Raziel raised his hand when Gabriel opened his mouth to protest. “Don’t argue with me, Gabriel. I don’t care if you were the supreme officer, you should know not to question me. There was a reason Mother often sent me down here more than you. You had your hands quite full as it was and somewhere along the way, you seemed to have forgotten how corporations worked. Aziraphale needs rest now more than ever, you can’t revoke his status while he’s this weak. It might do more than simply discorporating him.”

“W-what could it do?” Crowley asked, afraid of the answer. Unconsciously, he brought Aziraphale closer to himself. Without looking at them, Raziel answered.

“His Core could weaken further. Might send him into a state of stasis for an uncertain amount of time.” Gabriel’s lips thinned, a look of unfamiliar uncertainty crossing his features. It was a strange look on him. Raziel stood unsteadily and brushed himself off. He turned to Crowley with a warm smile. “My job here is done. I hope the next time we meet it’ll be over one of those drinks you both are so fond of. I shall be praying for your success.” Before Crowley could ask what Raziel could mean by that, he was gone in a flash of light.

 

“Well, some things never change” Gabriel looked at Crowley, then at Aziraphale, still limp in his arms. He sighed and his gaze seemed to... soften? When he spoke next, it was quieter and apologetic, “I never did thank you both for hiding me.” Crowley waved it away.

“You can thank him when he wakes up. I personally wanted to drop you off somewhere away from us, but he wanted to help you.”

“Even after what I ordered him to do...” So Gabriel forgot their little conversation upstairs when he was living here as Jim. “I’ve always thought Aziraphale had been down here too long, but he was best suited for the job. I don’t think even Michael would survive down here. And then there was Sandalphon’s misfortune and I just...” The Archangel sighed. “I still don’t know why Aziraphale ever helped me. You both had every right to turn me away or, as you said, ‘drop me off somewhere far away’” He strained laughed. “Beelzebub told me I should apologize to him after all I’ve put him through. For zem, a demon, to say some things we did to punish him and the way I spoke to him were just as bad as one of you- it really got me thinking. Maybe I was too hard on him. I did worry about him for a while in the beginning, I hoped if he spent some time to reflect on his life here on Earth in Heaven that he’d see just how far away he was from being an angel, but I guess that had the opposite effect, huh?”

Crowley listened with rapt attention. Gabriel still didn’t fully comprehend the damage he and the rest of Heaven wreaked on Aziraphale and his self-esteem, but he seemed to be trying to. He never thought his old boss would’ve been helping that, either. Although, perhaps he should have. After all, Beelzebub did apologise in zer own way to him. Demons didn’t apologise for anything, nor did they forgive or forget. Crowley wasn’t one of them anymore though, he knew that much and Beelzebub did too. Times now were strange indeed.

“Maybe wait until you understand why you’re apologizing to him first. You have no idea what you’ve done to him, how bad he was after he returned from Up there sometimes.” Crowley motioned his head up to drive his point home. “It was a fight to get him to accept help from someone like me. Do you know how many assignments you wankers sent him on that fucked him up? I’ve seen some of the shite you wanted him to see; if I didn’t know it came from you, I would’ve thought Hell accidentally got their locations messed up.

And don’t even get me started on all of your degrading words and notes you sent back. He tried hiding them all, but when I got a glimpse of a few, I wanted nothing more than to storm to Heaven and tear you apart.” Crowley was seething now, but he couldn’t stop. He had a lot of unprocessed anger against Heaven and especially against Gabriel.

“And don’t even get me started on the 14th century! You lot didn’t even know he went missing for three bloody years!” Gabriel’s eyes zoned in on Aziraphale at that moment; a confliction of emotions swirled in his eyes.

 

“We didn’t know” Gabriel tried to defend. Crowley simply scoffed.

“Of course ya didn’t. Aziraphale barely tells me things. I can only imagine how much more he hid from you lot.”

“Other than your Arrangement with each other?” Gabriel raised a brow, the question held no accusation. He wasn’t even upset by that. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad he had you- still has you” Crowley hummed. He wasn’t sure about that now. They still hadn’t properly talked yet. Aziraphale groaned in his arms, pushing his head further into between Crowley’s neck and shoulder. Presumably trying to hide from the dim lighting of the plastic candle on the small wooden table. “I’ll go upstairs and talk to Beez. Fetch me when he’s ready” Gabriel turned on his heel and slowly made his way back up the creaky, wooden steps.

 

Crowley sat there for what felt like hours, leaned back against the wall with the angel held close. He let everything that has happened sink in. It was all hard to believe, and yet it continued on with little reprieve. Suddenly, the angel stirred and he looked down just in time to see Aziraphale pull away and open his eyes halfway. The golden ichor crusted on his skin and had flaked somewhat on his black overcoat. Recognition seeped into Aziraphale’s now slate-colored eyes and pushed himself a respectable distance from the former demon. He guessed it was back to how things were before this whole mess. The former demon clenched his fists and looked away from Aziraphale. He wondered how much the angel remembered. Aziraphale cleared his throat. “I suppose I should say thank you for helping me.” Crowley grunted. “I must say, I’m surprised you helped me at all. Even after all I’ve done.”

“You explained in yer letters.”

“You read them?” The shock and disbelief had Crowley looking at Aziraphale. His skin was still pale and he was leaning heavily against the wall for support. The angel didn’t believe he would. He believed Crowley would- what?- toss them or burn them? Maybe never even be here to actually receive them. If Crowley waited any longer-

“Took me a while. Ya know, after all that you said and did.” Aziraphale winced and looked down at his fidgeting hands. “You’ve always been so clever, but you can also be so stupid.” Aziraphale quietly chuckled, wiping at the golden crust. Crowley watched as the flakes flew into the air and broke down into golden particles that soon vanished.

“Seems a common thing about me nowadays.”

 

“I’m still mad at you, you know” Crowley looked away again, staring at the other end of the dusted room. “I thought you meant every word you said when you left. But after those letters, I’m not sure who I’m mad at more” Aziraphale still for lying to him and then telling him to leave or himself for letting the angel go and not going after him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I’ll do the dance all the same.” Crowley turned when he heard the rustle of fabric and saw Aziraphale struggling to sit up straight and move. The former demon scooted closer and stopped Aziraphale. The angel looked at him, confused and uncertain.

“I think that dance can wait a while longer. For now, we really need to talk. No more dancing around each other. I also need to know- do you remember everything?” Aziraphale’s eyes widened and his pale cheeks flushed. His hands fidgeted and knotted together. The angel averted his eyes, telling Crowley he did, in fact, remember everything. His chest loosened and he felt the wave of relief hit him harder than he thought it would.

“I’m sorry.” Not the response he thought he’d get. “I only wanted to protect you. The Metatron- he was listening outside, you see, and he threatened your life and I couldn’t-“

“Woah, hey. It’s okay, slow down.” Crowley reached out, but paused. He’d grown so used to reaching out to Aziraphale over the past week (aside from the past millennia), he nearly forgot why he shouldn’t in the first place. Besides, he already knew about this from Aziraphale’s letters. “I get that now, but how come ya never came down before? Why didn’t you come back at any point to explain?”

 

“I couldn’t,” Aziraphale said, his voice filled with sorrow and regret, still refusing to look at Crowley. The former demon wanted to inch closer, but remained exactly where he was. Instead, he inched his hand just a little closer, but kept it far enough away so they didn’t touch. “After the initiation, I was being watched 24/7. Once, I tried to come down for a simple cup of tea (for experimental reasons, of course) and they sent someone else instead. It was horrible,” Aziraphale shuddered. Crowley couldn’t help but smirk at the fussiness. “When I first wrote a letter to you, I worried they might open it. They wouldn’t even let me send Muriel instructions at first. I had to nearly beg them and give the reason that Muriel needed guidance before they caved and let me send anything down.”

“What happened between you and the Metatron?” Aziraphale looked up, fear passing through his gaze. He chewed his bottom lip and finally looked at Crowley. He could see Aziraphale was having a hard time staying awake, which was deeply concerning. Aziraphale looked down at Crowley’s side. The former demon followed his gaze to see he was looking longingly at his hand. Aziraphale released his hands from each other and shakily reached towards Crowley’s, but then stopped just centimeters away. Crowley watched, turned his hand palm up and waited. Aziraphale laid his hand on his and their fingers entwined, the angel sighed.

“I told you the majority of it; he made me an offer, I declined at first, then he told me that I could appoint you to become an angel again.” Crowley’s jaw clenched, but waited for the rest before he could speak rashly. The angel was just gathering his (still muddled and foggy) thoughts, after all. “I of course, still wasn’t swayed, but then he brought up the Book of Life and hinted about your existence ceasing from this reality. So, I had a choice to make and I knew which one you’d choose. I just hoped what I did would’ve been enough to drive you away from here and never look back.” Aziraphale’s breath shuddered, holding back the sob that so clearly wanted to break free.

 

“You really are an idiot.” Crowley’s hand tightened around Aziraphale’s, wanting nothing more than to pull him close and shake him. His anger towards Aziraphale was building again. “No matter how furious you make me, I’d never leave you behind! How have you still not gotten that?” Aziraphale looked up at Crowley, surprised by the sudden rise in volume and emotional outburst. “You need to stop trying to do everything on your own and for once in your damn existence stop trying to chase me off because I’m never leaving! Not without you” Crowley brought Aziraphale’s hand up to his heart and repeated. “Never without you.” Aziraphale lunged at Crowley, taking him by surprise, and wrapped his other arm around Crowley’s neck. The former demon brought Aziraphale closer and wrapped his own free arms around Aziraphale’s waist, burying his nose in the angel’s curls and took in the scent of the angel. He was really here in his arms. “We need to work on our communication, talk about boundaries and open up for bloody once. No more dancing around each other, no more need for our old codes.”

Aziraphale was nodding, his body trembling violently in Crowley’s arms, but he still refused to cry. “I still need to talk to you about the Second Coming and the book.”

“I thought you stopped it?” Aziraphale’s head rested on Crowley’s bony shoulder and looked up at him through heavy eyelids. Perhaps it was best if the angel rested some more before they continued their conversation.

“We did- sort of, but I studied those plans completely, Crowley. No one else knows everything about it like Jesus and myself. Everyone has their roles, but without the full plan, they can’t do anything. When Gabriel revokes my status, they won’t have the means to start it, but that won’t stop them from hunting me down. That’s why I wanted you far away from here, you’re in danger as long as you’re with me.”

 

“Shut it!” Crowley hissed, gently squeezing Aziraphale. “I just told you I’m not leaving and I’m not. Besides, you still aren’t allowed to perform miracles, so what would you do if some demon caught you or you were in some other trouble? Let me worry about that. Now, though, I think you should get some more rest. Ya look like ye’re gonna pass out any second on me.” Aziraphale opened his mouth to protest, but was quickly cut off by an unexpected yawn. Crowley cocked an eyebrow and Aziraphale relented. The former demon stood and helped Aziraphale get more comfortable, wrapping a thick fluffy blanket that was miraculously at the foot of the bed around the angel to tuck him in fully. When he stood to turn, a hand grasping his wrist stopped him.

“Uhm... I-I know I have no right to ask, but could you...?” Aziraphale motioned with his eyes to the bed, then looked back up at Crowley. He knew what the angel wanted, but he waited for him to say it. Aziraphale cleared his throat, “Would you stay with me? W-we can make a little wall if you-“

“Don’t even say it.” Crowley removed his thick overcoat and dropped it on the back of a wooden chair near the small table. He then crawled underneath the blanket and huddled close to Aziraphale. To his surprise, Aziraphale huddled closer as well, his face inches away from the former demon’s. Crowley closed his eyes and listened until he heard Aziraphale’s breaths even out. He didn’t mean to, but he too eventually dropped off into a much needed nap.

 

Hours later, Crowley woke and found Aziraphale still asleep; at some point, the angel’s head had come to rest on his chest, and he had wrapped his arms around the angel. He wasn’t sure what to do; he worried if he let go, he’d wake the angel, but if he didn’t and Aziraphale woke up he might be horrified. But then, remembered what happened before they fell asleep; how Aziraphale had lunged at him and hugged him close. Crowley then remembered that Aziraphale remembered their time together when the angel thought he was human and forgotten almost everything. How should he feel about that? How did the angel feel about that? The angel moved in his arms and looked up with sleepy eyes. Crowley pushed down the warm feelings at such a beautiful sight. “Hi” He whispered, not wanting to break this moment.

“Hello” Aziraphale whispered back, making no move to get off of the former demon. The angel didn’t look all put together yet, so perhaps he didn’t know.

“How’re you feeling?” Aziraphale hummed and let his head fall back to the pillow, moving off of Crowley and leaving him feeling cold even with the heavy blanket still over them.

“Still tired, but better.”

“Think you should get some more rest or maybe you’d like some food? Something to drink” Aziraphale’s body went still and shook his head. That was a concerning response. “You sure? Can’t imagine you not being hungry at least.” Aziraphale shook his head more frantically, looking pained as he did so.

 

“Alright, we can wait on that, but Gabe wants to start the whole revoking thing the minute you’re up. So, is there anything you want now?”

“I’d like for us to talk more.” Crowley’s lips thinned. He really wanted to hold off on that a little longer. He hoped to have a little of this moment to last longer, but he very rarely got what he wanted. Crowley sighed and stretched his limbs until they popped satisfyingly.

“Alright, what about?” A hand landed on his shoulder, grabbing his attention to look at Aziraphale. The angel drew in a shuddering breath and propped himself up painfully slow until he was sitting up. He was sitting up straight and proper like he always had, but there was a slight tremor running through him that revealed that he couldn’t fully hide his exhaustion just yet (which was a good thing in Crowley’s mind).

“I know we should make a plan, talk about the Second Coming and all that, but I fear this can’t wait anymore. Besides, I did tell you that I wanted to talk to you once I got my memories back.”

“Angel-“

 

“No, please. I wanna talk about this now. I interrupted your speech and I’m so sorry I did. You have no idea how much it pained me to stop you and it was such a lovely speech. I-I want-“ Aziraphale sighed, looking down at his twining hands. “I have no right to ask anything from you. I have no right to ask you to start again, even with the promise to listen to what you have to say. I could do a thousand ‘I Was Wrong’ dances and it’d never make up for how I’ve treated you. Even if it was meant to protect you.” Aziraphale squeezed his hands tightly together until his knuckles were white. “I can’t run away with you. I can’t leave this planet. I’ve become attached, you see” Aziraphale’s laugh sounded self-deprecating. “I swore to protect Her creations and that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do... and that includes you” Aziraphale’s shiny eyes looked into Crowley’s own dilating pupils. “I don’t forgive you.” Crowley’s eyes widened, searching Aziraphale’s face for any clues as to what he meant.

“What-“

“I don’t forgive you,” the angel repeated stronger, “for there was nothing to forgive. That kiss- I wished it hadn’t happened out of desperation and that I do forgive, but I won’t forgive you for doing it, anyway. I-I hope we can truly reconcile when this is all over and you’ll allow me to show you how much I-“ Crowley put his hand over Aziraphale’s mouth to stop him from continuing.

 

“I’m putting my two scents in because if you continue I feel like we won’t get anywhere except you spiraling without hearing a word from me and by the time I’d get to talk, Gabriel’ll be coming down here and wanting to get a move on. So, can I speak now?” Aziraphale nodded. Crowley removed his hand and sat up straighter (well, as straight as Crowley normally does) next to the angel.

“If you still want that speech, ye’re gonna have to wait cuz I’m not gonna make it while you’re still considered Supreme Archangel“ That drew a startled laugh from his angel. “I know how much you care about this planet. Heck, just as much as I do, and if you won’t leave it, then I won’t either. We’ve seen and been through too much together for something like this to break us apart for long. We’ll get through this and we’ll do it together. No more splitting up to protect the other on our own. I need you to be open and honest with me. No more lying and pushing me away. These past six months have been hell, and I don’t want to experience life like that without you again. It took humans to get me out of my flat after three months, Aziraphale. Humans! Nina’s pretty pissed at you, too. She actually wants to talk to you once you’re feeling better.”

“I can imagine so.”

“I’ve told you before that I understood the hurtful words and actions and all that. It was all a part of our dance, after all. But Aziraphale, I’m tired. I’m exhausted and can’t keep doing this. (He wasn’t going to admit that those words and actions did actually hurt. This was a lot to talk about already) If you really wanna try to make this work, promise me. No more bullshit.” Before Aziraphale could answer, the secret door opened up the stairs and two sets of footsteps came down. Crowley leapt up, ready to defend Aziraphale. His face contorted with irritation. They could never have a moment.

Notes:

Thank you everyone and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! It's going to be a while before I post the next one, though. I wanted to finish this one up before taking a break for the next week or so (as per doctor's instructions). I won't go into full detail. I just hit my head earlier this week, so now I've been informed to rest more and less screen time. I'll continue to write when I come up with ideas, but right now everything's just kind of fuzzy so rest it is. I'll also admit, I did make this chapter less intimate than it originally was. I felt it was moving too fast for their delicate situation. Anywho, again thank you for checking this out and I shall (hopefully) be posting the next chapter in a couple weeks! Have a lovely night/day ♥

Chapter 14: Part 2: Principality Aziraphale

Summary:

It's time to revoke Azirphale's status. Muriel panics and fears they will be called back to Heaven. Comfort ensues!

TW: Panic Attack and bad thoughts (pushing oneself)

Notes:

I know I said a couple weeks, but I've been pretty stressed out and just needed to write something. I also couldn't wait to post this. I'd like to also apologise for how jagged this chapter is, but I think y'all are seeing a pattern to that now. Enjoy some C & M time!

Crowley leapt up and stood in front of Aziraphale. When they saw it was just Gabriel and Beelzebub, Crowley collapsed to the bed and put his head into his hands. “I thought you wanted me to get you when he was awake?” Crowley asked, sounding nearly like whining.

“Yeah, well, Raziel also said to give him a day, and it’s been a day.” Gabriel answered.

“I convinced him to give you two a little more time, so it’s been 36 hours.” Beelzebub informed. Crowley groaned.

“I suppose there’s no more avoiding it.” Aziraphale sighed, moving the blanket off of himself and scooting to the edge.

“Wait, here? Won’t Heaven know what’s going on and find you?” Crowley asked. The fear of Heaven looming over them coming back in full swing. Aziraphale bit the inside of his cheek in thought. The bookshop held a lot of secrets most didn’t know about; trinkets that hold long-forgotten magic, actual spell books no one looks twice at, even little nooks for a small friend to curl up in and sunbathe. However, there was now one room no one else except Aziraphale (and the workers who built it for him centuries ago) knew about.

Aziraphale had thought about only showing Crowley. Heaven nor Hell were ever supposed to know about it. It was a last resort, a room to protect them (or specifically Crowley if something ever happened). To be honest, Aziraphale had taken Crowley down there once, but they were both so drunk and Aziraphale had taken Crowley down there when there were Ethereal presences nearby. The angel sobered up pretty quickly after that, but Crowley had fallen asleep while waiting for him to return.

 

The idea of anyone else knowing about it, even if it was to help him, brought an icy feeling to his body. What if Gabriel went back to Heaven? What if Gabriel told the other Archangels about the room? He wasn’t entirely sure about Beelzebub, but he trusted zem more than Gabriel strangely enough. Still, the thoughts that something could change and someone else not Crowley finding out about the room terrified him to his Core. Crowley’s face appeared before him, and long fingers brushed his shoulder gently. It was then the angel realized he was on the verge of hyperventilating. Oh, he was such a mess and in front of Gabriel, no less! He scolded himself to buck up and keep it together. He was teetering from everything; the complete exhaustion of it all. He drew in deeper breaths, ragged exhales leaving him with the repeated mental mantra “I was a soldier, a Principality, a-“ He would never continue that third part. The memories hurt too much and with Gabriel, one of the culprits for those painful glimpses, stood right before him. He would not show more weakness while in his presence.

“Well, as much as I don’t want to do it down here,” Gabriel grimaced at the small room they all resided in, “There’s nowhere else to do it. Beez, Crowley, you should both go upstairs. This might get messy”

“Like hell I will!” Crowley objected, glaring at Gabriel. “I’m not leaving him alone during this”

“Crowley, I’ll be alright. You don’t need to be here this time.” The former demon turned and scrunched his face up adorably. Aziraphale knew immediately that Crowley was going to protest just by the look on his face.

 

“Look,” Beelzebub spoke, drawing everyone’s attention to zem, “I don’t care where this gets done or how messy it gets. Let’s just get it done!” Zey said impatiently. Aziraphale sighed and looked up at Gabriel. He’d have to use his own Celestial power to revoke Aziraphale’s status, but the angel still didn’t know how he’d react to the knowledge and whatever else he could still feel squirming in his veins from the initiation being drawn out. There was no other choice. This was the safest option for all of them.

“Uhm, actually, there is somewhere else we could go.” He suggested cautiously. Aziraphale looked down at his fidgeting hands, shook them from each other and rubbed at his thighs instead.

“Let me guess, another secret room?” Crowley joked. When Aziraphale looked up at him through his lashes and hummed an affirmative, that joking smile dropped along with his voice range, “You’re serious?” Aziraphale nodded again. He looked over toward the small table pushed up against the wall on Crowley’s left. Everyone looked over, but Gabriel still looked confused.

“You hid a room in the table?” He asked. Crowley rolled his eyes (along with his head. Right before the two came downstairs, he unconsciously jammed his sunglasses back on) and stood. He bent forward, grabbed the table, and pulled it away from the wall to reveal a wooden door hatch that blended into the floor perfectly. Thanks to the dust, the carved in sigil to keep it hidden was barely noticeable.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” Crowley muttered. He turned to the angel and lifted a brow. “Anymore rooms ya hiding, angel?” Aziraphale smiled and shook his head. Knowing the endearment remained unsoured warmed him.

“No more”

 

“I’m impressed, Aziraphale” Gabriel turned with a proud smile (which was weird to see beamed at him after so long). “You’re sneakier than I thought you were capable of. You were really holding out on us.” Beelzebub smacked Gabriel upside the head. Gabriel flinched and looked at his shorter partner, confused. A silent conversation took place between the two before turning back to the hatch.

“I, uh, most warn you, however.” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “The wards inside there will feel strange at first. We will be completely cut off from Heaven and Hell. It won’t hurt, you’ll just feel... detached”

“Detached?” Gabriel asked.

“It’s better if we just head in. Crowley, would you mind?” Aziraphale motioned. Quickly catching on, Crowley bent down and lifted the carved out handle and opened. Aziraphale stood shakily, using the bed to help him over to the hatch before Crowley looped an arm around his waist. The former demon lowered Aziraphale down onto the floor before hopping down the wooden ladder going further down. Aziraphale followed after him; the feeling of a string cutting him loose from Heaven’s power source was just as unpleasant as the still air that flowed around them. It was as if Time was cut off in this room as well. Once reaching the floor, Crowley immediately looped an arm around the angel again and moved out of the way for Beelzebub and Gabriel to join. Beelzebub shut the hatch and left them in relative darkness. The only light source came from the plastic candle Gabriel brought down.

Human-made wards and sigils surrounded them with a circle of some sort in the middle of the room. It was a blank circle aside from the two smaller circles inside it. Aziraphale never got around to painting inside of it. There was a time he had forgotten this room even existed, especially after the Holy Water exchange and the Antichrist. By the time he remembered about it, it was right after Armageddidn’t. Too wound up and anxious about Heaven and Hell still coming after them, the angel poured into all of his spell books to brush up on his human magic. When he passed out during that terrible storm they had, Crowley had been coming around more often until the pandemic and, by then, his anxiety over the whole situation dulled considerably. Oh, he still looked through the books, but worried far less about the possibility of their respective sides coming after them. Now, though, Aziraphale felt like kicking himself for not doing something sooner.

 

“I feel like I’ve been in here before...” Crowley muttered, looking around the smaller room in wonder.

“That’s because you have, my dear” Crowley looked down at the angel in silent question. “I brought us down here during one of our late nightcaps”

“Really should stop drinking so much during those. Be nice to remember times like that” Crowley commented. Both knew they wouldn’t stop or change their drinking habits in any way.

“Do we really have to do this down here?” Gabriel whined, rubbing his chest as if there was a pain to soothe there. “I don’t like this feeling”

 

“Use your silly head, babe” Beelzebub poked Gabriel’s head to emphasize, “If we do it down here, we don’t run the risk of someone finding out we’re all here. Remember, we also owe them one for keeping you safe” Gabriel’s lips pursed and huffed.

“Alright, Aziraphale,” Gabriel pointed at the angel, then at the center of the room, “since you can barely stand, sit there.” Crowley helped Aziraphale to the center and lowered him into a sitting position. Instead of leaving his side, which would be the smarter decision, Crowley waited beside him. Gabriel pinched his brow irritably.

“Crowley, it’d really be smarter for you to wait over here. I really don’t know what this is gonna do to Aziraphale, especially since he shouldn’t be able to handle-“

“Shut up, Gabe!” Crowley hissed. Aziraphale patted Crowley’s arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. His dear old serpent never did like to be away from him when he was in a vulnerable position.

“Please Crowley, he’s right. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you. I’d never forgive myself if I did” Crowley looked Aziraphale over, reluctantly sighed and made his way over to Beelzebub.

 

Gabriel approached and kneeled in front of him. He dug around in his inner coat pocket and pulled out a large crystal, larger than the ones that were used during Aziraphale’s initiation. The angel gulped, anticipating for Gabriel to press it to his forehead just like up in Heaven. Instead, he was taken aback when Gabriel asked for his hands. Aziraphale obeyed, watching the Archangel place the clear crystal into his hands and folded them together. Gabriel then instructed him to lift his hands to his chest; afterward, Gabriel clasped his larger hands around Aziraphale’s smaller ones, as if in prayer. They both bowed their heads together, nearly touching, and Gabriel began in to pray.

Warmth crept from within the angel’s hands and consumed his body. The low thrum of pain in his temple roared in fury, like someone was tearing his skull open and pulling his brain apart. Sharp pinpricks of needles stabbing relentlessly at his hippocampus. Aziraphale could feel liquid heat in his eyes, but he refused to let the tears fall. He gritted his teeth against the onslaught, Gabriel’s words fading into the background and being replaced by a constant loud ringing. The flashes of the world’s history appeared before him again, quicker than the first time when it was being forced into his brain. He could feel all the knowledge leaving him, but that squirming thing inside of him remained. He could feel it moving in his body, squeezing at his pounding heart, his lungs, his throat.

What he originally thought was the Archangel’s power given to him now felt more like an unwelcome parasite. It thrashed and pulsated inside of him, refusing to let go and leave along with the Archangel Knowledge that dwindled rapidly. His body felt soaked in sweat, the little energy he regained now completely drained. He felt more exhausted than he had when Raziel returned his memories, even more so after he became the Supreme Archangel. Aziraphale wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but they had to keep going. They couldn’t stop, not now. They had to finish.

 

A voice floated through the haze and ringing, calling out desperately. Aziraphale tried to focus on that and find comfort in it. He listened for Crowley’s distant pleas, “-go of me! Aziraphale! Fuckin’ stop, Gabriel!”

“Shut up, you halfwit!” Aziraphale heard Beelzebub shout. “If you break their concentration now, I’ll discorporate you myself”

“He’s gonna kill him! We should’ve waited longer!” What on earth had Crowley so frightened?

“Gabriel won’t! Don’t make me knock you out, Crowley!”

“At least let me go to him!”

“Do you have a death wish?! You step in that circle and you’ll be deztroyed!” Destroyed? He hadn’t noticed before, but from behind his eyelids, he could tell the room had become lighter. The angel’s concentration broke completely and everything inside him seized up. It felt like he was choking and then he was falling.

 

Gabriel’s grip on his hands increased and he increased his volume, a silent warning for Aziraphale to only listen to him. Aziraphale took a shaky breath, still feeling that squirming sensation wrapped around his lungs and allowed Gabriel’s magic to continue its work. The Archangel surrounded him completely once again, Aziraphale’s Core and body shivered despite the heat. The surrounding atmosphere was intense, nearly suffocating. Once all the Knowledge was drawn out, Aziraphale felt completely wrung out, but Gabriel did not let go. Instead, he probed deeper. He left Aziraphale’s mind and his Light roamed his body. It stung and was completely unwelcome. He hadn’t been prepared for it, which was why it was no surprise that he felt his lungs burning.

{Gabriel-}

{Relax Aziraphale} Gabriel’s voice commanded, but it wasn’t as harsh as it always was when he told Aziraphale to calm down nor as annoyed. He, by some miracle (or perhaps it’s Beelzebub’s handiwork), sounded gentler. Sounded trusting, more like a friend. {The Light given to you will only release its hold if you are calm} Aziraphale tried. He took in as much breath as he could and willed his body to relax. He convinced himself that he was alright, that he wasn’t exhausted. If he had Crowley’s imagination, he’d be able to picture just that and more. Sometimes, he envied Crowley for his imagination, but there was nothing he could do. So, he simply willed his trembling to still and shoved the exhaustion and weak feeling aside as he always had before. The middle ages helped him immensely in learning how to ignore everything that would kill a human if ignored for too long, like exhaustion and pain.

It was as Gabriel said. When Aziraphale felt his body relax and tremors cease, the feeling of being choked loosened. Gabriel’s own Light wrapped around Aziraphale’s and coaxed it within himself, drawing it out of Aziraphale. Finally, Gabriel slowly withdrew from Aziraphale, leaving behind a weary coolness. It was done. He was a Principality once again. He couldn’t feel more grateful to no longer have that Archangel Light inside of him nor the Knowledge that came with it. The angel wasn’t sure he’d forget any of it anytime soon, however. The feeling of knowing what he knows now, the emotions that overwhelmed his being nearly daily along with his own. It was exhausting and all around... a lot. Aziraphale tried to peel his eyes open, to tell Crowley it was all okay now, but instead he found himself falling.

 

Crowley watched on the sidelines. When Gabriel clasped Aziraphale’s hands in his and began to pray, a soft glow enveloped them both. It started out alright, but when the glow became harsher, he had to shift his weight. The glow stayed contained within the circle that lit up with new Enochian sigils, protecting Beelzebub and himself from feeling the pain that an angelic glow like the one before them would wreak upon them. The former demon shoved his clenched hands into his tiny pockets, trying to stay relaxed. He watched as both Gabriel and Aziraphale’s wings unfurled from the Ether, the Archangel’s arching towards Aziraphale’s frame. Crowley’s body tensed involuntarily when his angel’s body began to tremble.

The former demon watched in horror as the glow around Aziraphale pulse unsteadily, frantically attempting to thrust outward. In blinding panic, he tried to go to Aziraphale, terrified for his angel and yelling for Gabriel to stop. Gabriel ignored him, wrapping Himself further around Crowley’s angel and demanding Aziraphale’s attention to remain on him. The former demon had struggled against Beelzebub, arguing that Gabriel would kill him, but zey refused and only tightened zer grip more. It only took a few more seconds for Aziraphale to relax, his ruffled feathers laying back down in its messiness. When this was over, Crowley will have to sit Aziraphale down and groom his wings for him. The angel always forgot to take care of them.

Crowley shook his head of such thoughts and watched with bated breath. He nearly sighed with relief when the glow dimmed to vanishing and the sigils disappeared. However, neither angel moved for several long seconds. Beelzebub’s grip loosened, coming to his side and watching with what looked like poorly veiled worry. When not only Aziraphale, but Gabriel as well both began to fall sideways, both (former? Would Beelzebub be considered that as well now?) demons leaped forward and caught their respective angels. Gabriel grumbled that it was done and now he was tired. Beelzebub cooed (Crowley seriously didn’t think he’d experience their weird thing together again) and combed zer fingers through the Archangel’s hair. Beelzebub looked between Aziraphale and Crowley with a small smile.

 

“I think Gabriel and I will stick around a bit longer.” Gabriel groaned like a child at that. “Let him rest a bit before our trip back home.” Crowley nodded with narrowed eyes. There was more zey weren’t telling him. He wondered if something happened while he and Aziraphale were down in the room that’s right above their heads. Beelzebub helped Gabriel up and Crowley picked up Aziraphale. Once Gabriel and Beelzebub were up the ladder and out of the room, they both helped drag Aziraphale up carefully while Crowley trailed behind from the bottom. Once Aziraphale was lying down in the bed once again, Beelzebub, Gabriel and Crowley made their way up the stairs into the main bookshop.

The early morning was cloudy, small flurries of snow falling gracefully from the sky outside. Muriel got up from their seat and greeted them good morning. Beelzebub hummed, helping a tired and grumbling Gabriel upstairs and informing Muriel that they were spending some quiet time in the spare room. They cheerfully wished them a ‘happy time’ and turned to Crowley. Their eyes betrayed the amiable smile they still wore before that, too, dropped in worry. “How’s Aziraphale?”

“Alive” Crowley answered, slowly making his way towards the kitchenette. “Anything exciting go on up here?”

“No news to report- well, nothing Heaven/Hell related, anyway. Nina and Maggie stopped by and invited me out for some shopping, but I told them I had to stay and keep watch. Nina then told me to tell you to drop by the shop, says she’s got something for you.”

 

Crowley turned and squeezed Muriel’s upper arm affectionately. “Thanks, little bee. If they ask you out again, go with them. Someone knows what’s about to happen around here” He turned to one of the cabinets he knew Aziraphale kept an old first-aid kit somewhere in here. Aziraphale hadn't commented on it, but his injured hand felt different when he woke up from his accidental nap. It wasn't healed, but it didn't hurt anymore either. Blasted angel really should have focused on resting, not plummeting his reserved energy more!

“Uhm, what, exactly, is going on? Supreme Archan- Gabriel. Still weird to call him that after so long. He’s always been known as Supreme Archangel Gabriel, or sir... Or as some called him boss-“

“Muriel, Gabe explained...?” Crowley gently reminded them, giving them a (not fond, definitely not that) look. Muriel had a bad habit of wandering away from original topics. They smiled, embarrassed.

“Oh, right! He explained that Aziraphale’s Supreme Archangel status was being stripped from him and to be prepared to be called back to Heaven in case the Second Coming really does arrive?” Crowley's reaching hands stopped for a second. Damn Gabriel’s big mouth and for scaring Muriel. He took in a deep breath and resumed his reaching, grabbing the kit from the top shelf and closing the cabinet door. He put the kit on the counter and opened it.

“Ignore Gabe- about that last bit, anyway. It’s true about Azira’s Archangel status, though. He’s no longer your supervisor.”

“Oh...” Muriel looked down and sad. “Does that mean I really will be called back to Heaven? It’s just that I really have been enjoying Earth and learning everything that it’s offered so far and Heaven was so lonelyandIdon’t-“ The former demon quickly spun around and approached the trembling angel when he heard their speech speed up.

“Hey, sh, it’s ok.” He brought Muriel in for a hug and rocked them back and forth. Their arms banded around him and shuddered. This was exactly why he didn’t want Muriel to know. He’d learned early on (when he finally started helping Muriel that is) that when they started to spiral, they responded best with hugs.

 

“I know I should want to go back. Heaven’s home, after all, but what if I’m not allowed back here? I don’t want to leave all my new friends behind.” They sniffed, clinging to Crowley tighter. He rubbed their back in soothing circles. He’d make sure his little bee never got forced to go back.

“It’s alright, little bee, you don’t have to go back. It’s ok to feel what ye’re feelin’.”

“But what if I’m called back? I can’t ignore a direct order! I’d get punished!” Crowley tucked Muriel under one arm and led them over to their armchair, coaxed them to sit down and handed them a giant plush. The little angel hugged it close; its size just a tad bigger than Muriel’s torso. When they wanted to see more of the world, Maggie and himself (after being badgered into it) went shopping. When they were passing a plushie stand, the little angel literally glowed with glee and picked up a large fluffy honeybee plush. Crowley had to remind them to dim it down and showed the angel how to pay for the item (because there was no way he wasn’t going to buy it for them). Muriel had hugged it close and smiled like an excited child all day. Now, they really looked like a child hugging the fluffy bee against themselves, looking at Crowley with worried wet eyes. The first time they cried, they cried more because they didn’t understand what was happening to their eyes. Freaking out that their eyes would slip out of their sockets from all the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. Crowley had to bite back the laugh that crawled up his throat from the ridiculous thought.

He handed them a tissue with his good hand. Muriel took it with a ‘thank you’ and wiped away the tears. “Let’s not worry about that now, ‘lright? You won’t get called back, the Second Coming won’t happen, everyone will be here. The Earth will continue to spin as she always has since her creation. I wouldn’t lie to you, you know that, right?” They sniffed.

“Well, ya did in order to get into Heaven.” He shrugged,

“Fair point, but” Crowley lowered his sunglasses to make eye contact with the angel so they knew, “I wouldn’t now. I don’t lie to those I care about.” It was still a weird thing to admit, but months of hanging around just the humans for company had rubbed off on him a great deal.

 

Muriel wiped away the remaining tears and nodded. “Thank you, Crowley” Crowley smiled and patted their arm, stood up and made his way towards the front doors.

“I’m gonna head over to Nina's. Anythin’ ya want?” Muriel thought before calling out with hope.

“Hibis-Berry Time?” Crowley sighed, exasperated. Some people complained that Nina’s drinks sounded boring, so one day she had enough and irritatedly called out random drink names along with the customer’s own. Crowley couldn’t contain his laughter then, soaking up the chaos it caused, thinking it was going to be a one-off situation. To his dismay, Muriel saved the names and helped Nina and Maggie come up with more.

“Hibiscus strawberry tea, got it” He turned on his heel, but quickly stopped when he heard Muriel.

"Uhm. Shouldn't you take care of... that first?" They pointed at his still wounded hand. The former demon turned back towards the kitchenette, the promise to take care of his hand and THEN head out to retrieve whatever Nina had for him along with Muriel's tea.

Notes:

Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter and I'll see ya in the next one! Have a lovely day/night 🩶

Chapter 15: A Storm is Brewing

Summary:

Crowley still wants Aziraphale's promise. Aziraphale feels unworthy. Eric calls.

Notes:

I'm alive! Sort of, anyways XD. Before I go into a bit of a ramble (which you don't have to read. Just life update), please go back and read the previous chapter before continuing into this one. I updated the last chapter a little bit as I forgot to take care of Crowley's poor hand (I'm sorry, my boy!) and slightly updated chapter 12, but definitely reread chapter 14 towards the end.

Ok, now that that's out of the way, I want to explain why this chapter is so late. Muriel, one of my cats, gave my family and I a bit of a scare on the 15th and had to go into surgery asap. I've been watching over and taking care of her as much as I could until I had to go to work (which thankfully then, my mom and brother watched over her). It's been pretty intense and I stopped all my projects just to make sure she was okay, took her medication, and didn't do anything she wasn't supposed to. She's doing a lot better and her follow-up appointment went smoothly which finally gave me a chance to work on this chapter again. Aside from my own body covered in new scars from her playfulness and to demand attention XD I've finally been able to relax again (as much as I can anyways with everything else).

Now that I've got some time again, I shall be working on these stories again and finally get this story moving! I know it went from a briefly ok pace to fast and now slow, but trust me, things are brewing for our bois and it'll all come in due time ;)

The clouds were thick and heavy in the day’s sky. Humans continued on as they always did, none the wiser of the other forces stirring in anticipation. The demon picked up his cup of tea and took a sip, looking at Hell’s latest newspaper when he felt the prickle of Holiness at the back of his neck. He smiled and greeted his friend without looking up, “Beautiful day for a snowstorm, isn’t it, my friend?” The angel sat in the open-back seat on the other side with a heavy sigh. The demon looked over at his brunette counterpart with a curious gaze. He learned hundreds of years ago to not push the angel when he was like this; a furrowed brow not fully smoothed out and eyes closed in concentration. The demon looked back at his paper and waited silently.

The surrounding wind had picked up in powerful gusts, the clouds moving and twisting angrily. The angel drew in a breath, sat up straighter and opened his pale blue eyes, softened towards him. Once two points of ice that threatened to end the demon’s very being. It made him feel warm at the memory. “Raziel completed the task and has returned to Heaven. The Metatron has everyone who was in contact with Aziraphale on watch; even Uriel, surprisingly.”

“Does he know about you?” The carefully masked question came. Silence enveloped them both again. The demon found he hated it the longer it went on.

 

“I can’t do anything without the Almighty’s approval, Barbatos. You know this.” The demon’s jaw clenched. Those heavenly eyes turned away from him and watched the humans walk by. The end of that subject, then. “Anything happen Downstairs as of late?” Barbatos picked up his tea and swirled it around, turning back to his newspaper.

“The Dark Lord has been quiet, strangely enough. He’d been in a real uproar when Lucy disappeared, but a week ago... All has become silent. It is quite concerning.” The angel hummed his agreement. “The Game is still afoot, however it seems all participants have found themselves, unfortunately... elsewhere” That brought a harmonious laugh forth from his angelic friend. Barbatos grinned with satisfaction.

“Making sure you can secure the win as always, Barb?”

“Oh please, Raguel.” Barbatos huffed, “Even if they were all still here, I’d still win. This way, it makes things easier for us. Although, there is still one not in place.” Raguel lifted a brow for him to continue. “Now, my angelic counterpart, which one of us shall see to his move?”

 

🩵∞🌟

 

Crowley strolled into the cafe and walked straight up behind the last of Nina’s customers. Foot traffic was slower than usual today because of the gloomy, windy weather. He both found this wonderful and awful at the same time (wonderful, so the trip would go faster, awful because of the blasted cold). Nina’s back was turned to him and the customer in front, her hands reaching out to grab a shot of espresso to mix into whatever drink she was making. Out from the back walked Maggie, who lit up immediately when she saw Crowley. He offered a smile to her, watching her bustle by Nina and pick up two to-go cups. She then rounded the counter and brought them both to him. “Hello, Crowley. It’s been a while since we last heard from you. I was beginning to worry, but Muriel told us you and Mr. Fell made it to the bookshop, so Nina prepared these for you early this morning.” She offered the two cups and the former demon took them both; one he knew to be his usual, but he raised a brow at the other one. “It’s Muriel’s tea.”

“How did you-“

“Know?” Nina asked, finishing his question for him. She handed the customer his drink, and they all waited until he was out of the store. Once the door was fully closed, Nina leaned over the counter. “Muriel said they wanted to try it next time they stopped by and I saw ya coming. Figured you’d ask for their drink as usual.”

 

“Right...” Crowley looked Nina up and down with narrowed eyes. Maggie gasped and came closer, her eyes trained on his bandaged hand.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Nothin’ to worry about. It’ll heal within a few days.” Maggie fretted, taking the coffee from his hand and inspecting it closer before he could protest. The once clean bandages already starting to turn a dark crimson.

“And Mr. Fell? How’s he?” Maggie asked, looking up with shining eyes. He sighed and looked towards the bookshop, letting her gently continue to hold his hand.

“He’s alright, remembers everything now.”

“Everything?” Crowley nodded.

“What’re you gonna do now?” Nina asked, knowing exactly what he was going to do. She still didn’t think Crowley should be allowing Aziraphale back in so easily, no matter what he was doing or trying to do.

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asked. He looked back at the two; they’ve helped him so much when they could’ve just left him. He hadn’t known them very well, but they both knew Aziraphale and Maggie still adored and respected him. Nina... not so much anymore. “We’re gonna work it out. Like we always have and this time, I’m not gonna turn my back... and neither is he.”

“Did he give you his word?” Nina asked skeptically. Crowley opened his mouth, then shut it again. Aziraphale hadn’t been able to make the promise. They had been interrupted before he could give his word.

“He will” Maggie offered the taken coffee to him again which he took gratefully.

“If there’s anything you need from us, we’re here for you.” Nina nodded in agreement. Crowley swallowed, his throat feeling tight. He clutched at the cups in his hands a little tighter.

“Thanks” Not wanting to linger for another moment, he turned and quickly left. There had been too many emotions. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

 

The double doors closed behind him. The last of the cold prickled at his skin, slowly seeping away as the warmth crept in. He approached Muriel, who looked up at him and clapped their hands cheerfully. He handed over the tea, watching as they drew in the scent heavily. Muriel sighed happily, “Thank you thank you thank you!” they said with a big smile. Crowley took a big gulp of his six shots of espresso to keep his tongue in check. He was still learning to accept gratitude- at least, from some people.

“Feelin’ any better?”

“Much, thank you again, Crowley!” The former demon waved it away.

“I’m gonna go back downstairs and check on Aziraphale. You let me know if anyone suspicious comes by, ‘lright?” Muriel nodded and daintily sipped at the drink, still getting used to consuming such beverages.

 

Throwing his now empty cup away, Crowley pulled the red book and watched the wall pop out of place and swing open. Dust that had yet to settle swirling around in the air before him. The former demon still couldn’t believe Aziraphale hadn’t told him about this secret throughout the entire time he owned the bookshop, but then again, a lot happened around that time as well. Also, Aziraphale had taken him down there, but it didn’t count since he was practically blackout drunk. Taking the steps down two at a time, he glanced towards the bed when he could see it and saw Aziraphale lying straight on his back. His eyes half lidded and staring at the ceiling. It was an unexpected sight; he expected the angel to still be passed out. The floor creaked before Crowley’s foot, alerting the angel of his presence. Aziraphale turned towards him and smiled. It was small and tight, but genuine. The former demon took his time walking over to the bed and sat down at the edge, his uninjured hand close to the angel’s thigh.

“Hey” He spoke softly. The small smile grew unsteadily, wobbling at the edges.

“Hello, my dear.” The angel spoke just as softly.

“Thought you’d still be passed out.” He watched as the angel swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Aziraphale licked his dry lips.

“Came to not too long ago.”

“How’re you feeling?” Crowley tightened his hand in the sheets, resisting the urge to comb his fingers through the angel’s curls. Aziraphale closed his eyes and his brows pinched.

“Better than I was. How’s your hand?” Aziraphale’s hand lifted weakly and pointed.

 

Crowley lifted it and turned it this way and that. “Better than it was.” He turned back to the angel and gave him a disapproving look (it didn’t matter if he had his sunglasses on, the angel would still know). “Ya shouldn’t have tried to heal it.” Aziraphale looked away, rightly looking guilty for being caught.

“You were hurting. Didn’t like it”

“And you think I enjoy watching you hurt too? Draining what little energy you regained- possibly endangering Yourself? You know betta than to do that!” He gently scolded, careful not to raise his voice too loudly. Crowley inched up the bed closer to Aziraphale, “For fuck’s sake, Aziraphale, what if something happened to you!”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t use a miracle. I simply used my own magic” Crowley closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. This was his bastard of an angel he chose.

“Angel, you know what I mean. Just- no more magic for now, ‘kay? You need to heal, don’t worry over my bloody self”

“I will worry as much as I please, thank you very much,” the angel huffed.

 

Crowley huffed exasperated. At least his angel was back. “Whateva, do as you wish”

“I will, thank you.”

“But you still owe me a promise.” Crowley’s eyes watched Aziraphale’s lips purse, then bite at his lower lip. He tore his sunglasses off, set them on the small wooden table, and looked Aziraphale dead in the eyes. No barriers this time, just like the Arrangement. Aziraphale looked between his own serpentine eyes, drew out a long breath and grasped his bony hand in his own.

“Crowley I-“ The angel sighed, looking down at their clasped hands, “I’m not sure I can promise you all of that.” Crowley’s jaw tightened along with his grip on Aziraphale’s hand. He wanted to scream and pace, but he didn’t want to hurt Aziraphale more than he already was.

“Why not?”

“What if we’re in a situation much like the one before we went our separate ways? I wouldn’t be able to talk to you if someone was listening again. I would rather sooner step into Hellfire than put you at risk just to tell you the truth with someone nearby” Crowley listened and thought about it. It was true, he’d do the same thing, but at least he could stop time in order to talk to Aziraphale. The angel’s powers aren’t the same as his. He wasn’t built to mess with time and space, with a creative thought process and make dust into stars. Aziraphale’s purpose was protection and withstanding all things. Crowley was a builder, an artist. Aziraphale was a soldier, is a guardian.

“We can figure something out. Come up with a plan like we did when we swapped places-“

“We were given a prophecy that helped us”

“Like when we raised Warlock together, then!”

 

“We also thought we were raising the Antichrist.”

“When we helped Adam stand up to Satan, then!”

“That was more you than me. All I did was threaten to never talk to you again…” Aziraphale choked out, looking away in shame. Crowley raised his other hand, gently laying it on the angel’s cheek, prepared to wipe away the tears threatening to fall.

“Don’t cut yerself short, angel. That wasn’t a threat and we both know that. It would’ve happened to be if you didn’t snap me out of it. You helped convince that boy to stand up for what was right. We may have fucked a lot of shite up, but we did it together. We’ve gotten through so much, survived millions of times where if it weren’t for you, I would’ve discorporated a thousand times over and vice versa. Every time we split up, I fear more and more that that time would be the last I see you.” Aziraphale’s breath shook, turning his head into Crowley’s bandaged hand and pressing into it. His words were so quiet, the former demon almost suspected they weren’t for him to hear.

“You deserve more than me. So much more than what I have given” Crowley couldn’t contain the growl that spilled from his throat, leaning into Aziraphale’s personal space and forcing him to look at him.

“You listen to me for once this bloody time,” He hissed, “I don’t care what you think I deserve because what I want- have always bloody wanted- is you, you twat! Any other angel would have smited me if I approached them. No other angel would have proposed a crazy idea, then turned a blind eye when a demon saved kids from the Flood or even jumped in when there was a spot of trouble. Wouldn’t have gone along with a crazy idea to save Job’s kids and bring his family back together under the guise they were different and no one else would have offered me their wing, so I didn’t get wet. Now, I could go on and on about all the things no one else would have done, but I think you get the point.

“Point is, I. Want. You. ‘lright?” The next few moments were tense. Crowley watched his words slowly sink into Aziraphale’s mind in full understanding. He held his breath, making a conscious effort to not bounce his leg and sit still. Aziraphale closed his eyes, took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Breathed deep again and repeated, opening his clearer eyes and squeezing Crowley’s hand between his own. He nodded and breathed out, ‘alright’. He opened his mouth to answer at last.

“I-“ They both startled at the sudden noise. Crowley cursed under his breath, withdrawing his hand from Aziraphale’s warm one and searched his tiny pockets for the blasted phone. He couldn’t believe it actually worked down here (of course, the phone works everywhere. What if Aziraphale needed him while he was in a dead zone?) Growling, he picked up and turned away from his angel. “What?”

 

“M-Mr. Crowley? Sir?” Eric’s trembling voice came through. Crowley stopped growling immediately.

“Eric? What’s up?” He could hear the other demon gulp nervously.

“Th-there’s someone outside th-the building, sir- er, Crowley.” Crowley closed his eyes and tried not to sound too frustrated.

“If it’s Shax, tell her to shove off! You ain’t-“

“N-n-no! It’s not- it’s not her” Crowley’s brow furrowed, confused. Eric’s next words made his blood turn to ice. “I-it’s an angel”

 

Fuck! Who was it? How did they know where he lived? Did someone from Hell inform them of Crowley’s address? He had to get Eric out of there! “Eric, listen, you have to tell me what you see.”

“W-well... H-he’s just standing outside. L-looking up at the window. I don’t- I don’t think he saw me, though. Do you think he just senses Demonic energy here?”

“I don’t know...” Crowley sure hoped that was the case. The former demon startled at the sudden warmth on his thigh and looked to see Aziraphale’s furrowed brow. He began to withdraw his hand, but Crowley immediately switched hands and put his on top of the angel’s keeping it there. It was comforting, even though he refused to admit that he’d need it. “Look, the wards there will protect you as long as he doesn’t know ye’re there. Understand?”

“U-Understoo- wait, hold on... H-He’s walking inside the building!” Aziraphale squeezed the former demon’s thigh and mouthed ‘what is it?’. Crowley held up a finger to wait.

“Eric, I need you to-“ A knock on the other end echoed through the line. Eric’s gasp and loud and terrified. The following seconds intense in silence. “Eric, what’s happening?”

 

“He... Uhm... He pinned something to the door a-and left... Should I-I... Should I go see what it is?”

“Hold that thought” Crowley turned to Aziraphale and raised a brow, knowing full well the angel heard everything that had happened.

“Ask what the angel looked like” Aziraphale whispered. Crowley relayed the message.

“F-from what I could tell. He was, uh, in an off-white suit. Brown hair and fair skin?”

“What length was his hair?”

“Not very long. It was... I-It was just below his ears?” Aziraphale gasped and tightened his grip on Crowley’s leg. He leaned forward a bit with wide eyes.

 

“That sounds like Raguel! Tell him to check the door” Crowley repeated what Aziraphale told him. He listened to Eric’s unsure steps, the creak of his door (he should really fix that. It never squeaked before until after he was kicked out), and then the rustle of paper. The door was quickly slammed and hurried steps moved away. A few minutes of silence later, the rustle of paper was back.

“Talk to me, Eric.”

“S-sorry, Crowley... He- uhm- l-left a note for you. S-says they’ll be coming for you in a few hours” That was certainly strange. Why give Crowley a heads up instead of just busting in- wait. He recognized that name.

“Hey angel,” the former demon gave a quizzical look, “Didn’t you mention a Raguel before?”

“Yes, he was one of the Archangels who helped me.” The angel hummed and chewed at his bottom lip in thought, with his eyes downcast at the bed.

“Penny for yer thoughts?”

 

“Invite Eric here”

“What?” He wasn’t expecting that.

“Invite Eric to stay here. If Raguel left a note, that means that angels will be expecting to collect you from your residence.”

“Meaning no one knows I’m here” His useless heart thumped to see that wobbly Smile beam at him. He leaned away from the phone and closer to Aziraphale again. “But, angel, sweetheart, are you sure? I know Eric and he’s a good kid, but the last time you saw him- er hims, he was attacking the bookshop. Are you alright with this?” There was a high blush on Aziraphale’s cheeks. The angel blinked his eyes rapidly and cleared his throat, looking abashedly away.

“I-I’m sure, my dear. I trust you” Crowley absolutely ignored (tried to anyway) that extra thump again. He turned back to the phone and told Eric to come to the bookshop and don’t tell anyone where you’re headed. Hanging up, the former demon and was caught off guard by the sparkles that could be clearly seen in Aziraphale’s eyes.

 

“What?”

“Did you call me sweetheart?” Crowley choked out broken syllables, his brain screeching to a halt and derailing off the edge of a cliff. Aziraphale sat straighter excitedly, “You did! You- oof!” Crowley looked back and helped ease the angel back against the pillows. The heat in his cheeks and ears refused to cool.

“Idiot, lie back down and rest! No need to hurt yourself for no reason”

“I much preferred it when you called me ‘sweetheart’” Aziraphale replied with a cheeky grin, settling back against the pillows and letting Crowley tuck him back in.

“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. Ain’t gonna happen again until we get back on the same page” (that was a lie. Now that it’s slipped, it will refuse to not not be said).

“Of course, darling. Whatever you say” Aziraphale’s cheeky grin grew bigger by Crowley’s flustered reaction. His face was forever going to be red at this point. Growling, he turned away from the angel and called over his shoulder that he was going up to inform Muriel of their incoming guest. He tried not to hasten his pace when he heard the angel’s weak giggles behind him.

 

Muriel jumped in their seat when they saw Crowley approach unexpectedly. “Something wrong? Your face is all-“

“We got company coming,” Crowley interrupted, refusing to answer the unfinished question.

“Company? Who’s coming? Oh, do I need to prepare tea?” Muriel jumped up and brushed their plaid skirt into some semblance of presentable.

“No, Muriel, look- uh... It’s, uhm, it’s a demon” Muriel stopped and looked a little unsure. “His name’s Eric. You’ve seen him before; long black hair that go-“ Crowley motioned his hands up to make the shape of Eric’s hair-shape. Muriel took a step back with wide eyes.

“Didn’t he attack the bookshop the night before Aziraphale left?” Crowley’s head went side to side.

 

“Mmmyeah, sort of. He’s known as a disposable demon-“

“That sounds cruel. No one should be disposable”

“He’s called that because there’s multiple of him”

“That still doesn’t make it right. I thought Hell would be nicer to their own since... Well, you know” Crowley closed his eyes and reminded himself that Muriel is a naive angel who doesn’t understand much outside what they’ve been doing for the passed thousands of years.

“No, demons are just as cruel to one another as they are to humans and angels. No one gets a free pass just because we all had the same traumatic thing happen to us.”

“Oh... That’s- I’m sorry. That was really thoughtless of me-“ Crowley waved away.

“Anyway, just wanted to give ya a heads up so ya weren’t caught by surprise when a demon shows up at the front door. Call for me when you see him, ‘kay?”

 

“Alright, Crowley...”

“Yes?”

“Do you think he’d appreciate some tea prepared?” Crowley snorted at the silliness of it.

“Why don’t you go across the street and ask for some from Nina or Maggie. We don’t need another accident in the kitchenette” (Muriel wanted to prepare tea and be hospitable like Aziraphale first did for them. This resulted in a small fire from the ancient stove because they panicked from the noise of the kettle whistling. Crowley immediately stopped by after Muriel called. That was his second visit to the bookshop after his hiatus from it) Muriel pouted but nodded. Crowley groaned, “Tell you what. When Aziraphale feels up for it, I’m sure he’d be delighted to show you how to make tea. Sound good?” Muriel immediately brightened and nearly tackled Crowley into a hug. Within the next second, they bounced away and out the door. He collapsed on the sofa and just processed everything that had occurred.

 

~•○•~

 

Michael sat at her desk writing up the latest report when Uriel and Saraqael entered her office. She placed down her pen and sat up just that much straighter. She clasped her hands together, “Well?”

“No sign of Crowley.” Uriel replied, their face never changing from that stone face that barely ever changed. “The angels said the place was empty when they arrived. They are on their way to the bookshop as we speak.”

“I don’t see why he’d go there after what Aziraphale did, but it doesn’t matter, I suppose. That snake is just as predictable and pathetic as that filth that’s still somehow an angel. Has Raphael said anything?”

“Still nothing,” Saraqael reported, “He claims he only did what was best for his patient.”

“So, he still refuses to reveal the truth.” Michael sighed with disappointment. She and Raphael used to be close, but after the War they had drifted apart. He shunned himself away in his sanctuary while she did what God assigned her to do. Every time they spoke after that, it had led to many arguments until one day they just... stopped. Michael stood from her desk and rounded it, “Report what you found to the Metatron. I shall go talk to Raphael myself.”

 

Michael didn’t see Uriel and Saraqael look at each other with a look of annoyance. Nor did she hear their disapproving tones of her trying to take charge of everything. Her sole focus was going to see their Archangel brother in hopes of convincing him to do what they saw was right. To tell them everything he knew and where the Book of Life was, along with Aziraphale. 

Notes:

I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter, thank you again for checking out this story and following along with this insanity XD Can't wait to read what y'all think! Hope you all have a good day/night 🩶

Chapter 16: Understanding

Summary:

Raphael tries to make the angels understand. Aziraphale wrestles his thoughts and emotions.

Notes:

This was written during my more tired nights. I wrestled with myself, unsure to post it, but without it the next chapter won't make much sense.

It was silent and darker than he was used to. The stale air, which shouldn’t even be stale, was suffocating him. It all felt like it was trying to break him instead of helping him. The Archangel would not break. He knew in his heart what he did was right, what he was doing was Right. He sat in the middle of the room, one leg over the other and back straight. He’d been in this meditative pose ever since he was locked inside this hole.

The echo of a door unlocking and heavily opening alerted him to someone’s presence, but he refused to open his eyes. The click-clack of heels told him all he needed to know. He waited patiently and when those heels stopped metres away from him, he waited more. Michael cleared her throat, awaiting his acknowledgement. The Archangel had nothing to say to her, but she clearly had plenty more to say to him. “Is this what you want?” Her cold, calculated tone asked. He remained silent. “If you told us where he was, you’d be free. Why not free yourself from these burdens?” More silence.

She sighed in mock disappointment. “I knew something like this would happen. Aziraphale has been corrupted for a long time. Going against the Almighty’s plan and now he’s taking you down with him. I pity you, Raphael. If you continue on like this, you might Fall with him” He won’t, Raphael thought, we won’t Fall. “What do you hope to accomplish by staying silent? You do realise no one will be coming for you. Once he is found, you both will be punished. I cannot help you, this time” That drew a jeer out of him.

“This time?” Raphael opened his eyes to see Michael just as he expected; Hands forward and crossed, back straight, one eyebrow up in mild confusion. “The last time you helped me was Before. I do not need help from someone who only wishes to bring death to the world Mother created.”

“It isn’t death, Raphael. It is salvation! We save the souls that are pure and cleanse the world of that filth Down Below. It shall come to pass as it has always been written-“ Raphael shook his head and bowed it.

“You are blind, Michael. You and so many others. If Gabriel can learn, why cannot you?”

“He is a fool! He forgot his place and allowed his soul to be tainted-“

“And Mother’s?” This time, he lifted his head. Eyes imploring for her to understand. “Everything She has planned is Ineffable, but what if Her Plan had plans within itself? Maybe in one life, one universe, She had meant for Armageddon to happen. Perhaps, even when it didn’t, the Second Coming has gone without a hitch. But what if for us, for in this life, She has planned for something else?” Michael stared back, that lifted eyebrow relaxing back into place.

“Are you questioning the Almighty, Raphael?”

“I am simply asking for you to see that in those lifetimes, She was there. Ask yourself, why has She left us so long on our own? Do you truly believe this Second Coming is Her will?” She sighed and shook her head.

“You are much further gone than we thought. Maybe you cannot be saved, after all” She turned on her heel. Raphael closed his eyes again and sighed, defeated, listening to her heels clicking against the cold floor and the heavy door shutting, locking behind her.

 

🩵∞🌟

 

The wind blew harshly. Dust and debris flew through the air, making the sky and surroundings look grayer than they should be. The pavement and streets below his feet cracked and missing pieces. One wrong step could have him tripping or possibly twisting his ankle. The once beloved buildings of Soho now lie in ruins; blown to bits and burned by fires. Even his beloved bookshop, standing on its own away from any other shop, had not been safe from the carnage. Aside from the whistling of the wind, it was quiet. Deathly quiet. No cars driving by and honking, no chatter between people walking the streets, no dastardly music blaring from some place or another. No friends calling out to him. The only noise that was heard was his own pounding heartbeat and ringing in his ears. Aziraphale failed. Again.

No... No, this couldn’t be real! His wings swept out in a flourish, leaping up and gliding over to the other buildings. Every once in a while, there would be a pile of ash and clothes, but nothing more. The humans had all faced Judgment. The War had started and now angels and demons that were still alive were scattered across the Earth. He never felt so alone. The angel’s breaths became shallow, his frantic eyes searching. Searching for that shock of red hair, those beautiful iridescent feathers, the shine of black scales — anything!

And then, there! To his right, there was movement! The end of a black tail slithering around a corner into an destroyed alleyway. He landed, nearly tripping and trying to stay on his feet. Tucking his wings away, he ran unsteadily to find- his breath and heart stopped simultaneously. His eyes stinging and blurring the image before him. His feet dancing in two different directions. He wanted to back away, scrub the horror before him from his mind and scream at the world. The other part wanted to dash forward, to comfort and to Heal the only one who ever stood by his side.

 

He chose the latter, bolting forward and crashing to his knees next to the steaming figure. A large, gaping, black hole took up most of the former demon’s chest where his heart should’ve been. His golden eyes were closed and he wasn’t breathing. Oh lord, he wasn’t breathing! Aziraphale reached his shaking hands out, lifting the body to lie across his lap and cradle his best friend’s head to his chest. The angel bent forward, his wings encircling them as if he could protect Crowley from any more harm. But it didn’t matter anymore, did it? Crowley was-

“‘Zir’phale?” Aziraphale gasped. His poor dearheart sounded so weak! The angel looked down to see half-lidded serpent eyes staring through him, unseeing.

“I-I’m here, my dear. I-I’m here” His voice broken and wet. He ran his hand shakily through Crowley’s black-soot and grimy hair down to cup his cheek tenderly. “J-just lie still for me. I-I’ll fix this”

“C’n’t... fix ever’thing”

“No... but this I-I have to. I have t-to try!” Aziraphale hovered his hand over Crowley’s chest. His hand glowing bright with power and he commanded the wound to Heal. Pouring everything he had into it, but nothing was happening- no, not quite nothing. Crowley’s skin became paler, more ashen. He lifted his skinny, dust-covered hand and held Aziraphale’s trembling one.

“Stop,” His whispered voice sounded of sandpaper. “No... use. It’s... too late”

“No!” Aziraphale cried, pouring his own Self into the magick. He’d rather die trying than give up on Crowley. He couldn’t! “I won’t let you die for my own mistakes!”

“Too late... f’r that.... don’t you think?” Crowley’s clothes began to sink in. His body slowly turning to ash within Aziraphale’s arms. Aziraphale continued to weaken Himself, his body feeling heavier and weaker with each passing moment. This couldn’t be happening. This isn’t real! “‘F you really believe that... then ya should wake up” Aziraphale’s magick faltered. Those serpentine eyes looked brighter, more lively, imploring even. “Stop ‘n wake up”

 

Aziraphale bolted upright with a sharp gasp. The angel coughed and rubbed his neck to soothe the dryness he felt there. Once he could breathe again, he laid his head in his hands and took shaky breaths. It was that nightmare again. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful that it wasn’t the same nightmare every time, or hated the fact they could still get worse. The angel tried to take deeper breaths, let the familiar, dusty smell fill his nostrils and calm his still frayed nerves, but nothing was helping. He needed to get out of this room!

Aziraphale straightened himself, swung his weak legs over the bedside and reached the cane that always appeared where he expected it to be. Just like his bookshop and the Bentley, his cane had basically become a part of him. Especially during World War II, a truly awful time for the humans all around. Shaking such thoughts away from his mind before they could get too dark to further worsen his mood, he carefully stood and leaned heavily against his support. The angel still didn’t have enough strength to put up a sort of block against the back pain or buffer for the old injury on his leg, but he had painkillers for a reason. Sometimes, it was just nice to have something extra on hand for the bad days he still had every once in a while.

Slowly, carefully and slowly, he leaned between the cane and the dusty wall for support and climbed up the wooden steps. No light penetrated through the hidden wall, leaving him in near complete darkness except for the plastic candle still left down on the small bedside table behind him. Once reaching the wall at the top of the steps, he tapped seven times in a silly rhythm he knew would irritate Crowley. The mere thought alone made a small smile grace his lips. Crowley, who he thought he’d never see again. Up in Heaven, they had even told him that if he ever stepped out of line, they would finally deal with the root problem. That way, Aziraphale would have no reason to be Tempted to ever go back down to Earth again. After all, he had responsibilities again! Much more important ones than before, for that matter.

 

The creaking wall-door’s silence brought Aziraphale back out of his thoughts. Right, he didn’t have time to process everything. There just simply wasn’t enough time for it. If he allowed himself to process, he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to live with himself for another hundred years! No, best to put it off until everything was all sorted out. The sun’s dying light nearly blinded the angel, but it was nice. Looking around through the shade his hand provided, he could see that everything was as it had always been. Dust motes swirling and dancing in the air, the orange glow of the sun filtering through the windows making the bookshop look that much more enchanting, the surfaces (except books and bookshelves) and statues somehow never covered in dust despite the large quantities seen around. And the smells! Leather from the leather-bound books, paper and parchment spanning thousands of years, glue he had used to restore the bindings and pages, and of course the smell of cocoa that has permanently soaked into shop.

He limped through the shelves, marvelling over his beloved books he had left behind. There was a whisper in the air though, the atmosphere within the place he called home filled with sorrow and familiar upset. Nothing lasts forever. The angel bit back a sob, covering his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut tight. Oh, what a fool he was to say those words. To say them without finishing the thought because he was unable to. How could he, after all? Though it was only partially true, not everything lasts forever, but as he’s been taught some things, in fact, do. He just hoped desperately that he and Crowley would be one of them.

Speaking of the serpent, where was he? Aziraphale blinked away the tears that threatened to spill once again and looked around. He turned to the front and limped quickly, the tapping of the cane sounding louder than it had any right to. As he rounded the shelf, he saw his friend lounging on the sofa. One leg thrown over the back and the other on the floor, his arms crossed, relaxed, over his chest and his head tilted to the side just a hair, his glasses remaining firmly in place. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm that told the angel he was asleep. Aziraphale smiled, adoring and relieved that his Crowley was still safe.

 

As quietly as he could, he made his way to his chair and slowly sat. His back radiating pain until he fully sat and moved into the most comfortable position. He sighed, relaxing farther into the back of his chair when a sleepy groan caught his attention. Crowley’s head lolled back and forth, his face contorting into one of displeasure for waking up. His best friend looked around slowly, turning his head until it was fully looking in his direction. “‘Zir’ph’le?” Crowley grumbled in question. Aziraphale could’ve cried from that response alone. His nightmare still too fresh in his mind’s eye.

“Hello, my dear,” He spoke softly. Crowley always responded best to soft sounds upon waking up. The former demon removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes like a child. It was always adorable to witness. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit better. Must’ve dozed off. What’re you doin’ up here?” Crowley shoved his glasses back on and stretched his limbs until his entire body popped.

“I, uh, just wanted to pop up here and take everything in. See the sun and... all that.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he didn’t want to admit nearly having a panic attack. Crowley didn’t need to see his weakness again.

 

“Uh huh... right...” Crowley replied, not believing him. He sat up, elbows on his knees, and peered closely at the angel before him. Aziraphale tried not to move under his scrutiny. His back would surely throw more of a fit than it already did just getting up and sitting down. “How’s yer leg?” He asked, pointing towards the cane. Aziraphale waved his hand as if he could wave the question away.

“Oh, not too terrible. It’ll be right as rain as soon as I get my strength back. Now, I suppose, we should discuss our next move. It’ll only be a matter of time before Heaven and Hell make themselves known again.” Crowley hummed noncommittally, looking out the window. He clearly had his own opinion, but Aziraphale didn’t want to wait any longer. There just simply wasn’t anymore time to wait! “We must do something about the Book and I’d like to help Raphael-“

“What?!” Crowley’s head snapped back towards him, staring as if Aziraphale had gone mad, “Angel, I get he helped you out ‘n everything, but didn’t you just get out of there? Wasn’t the whole point of leaving was to, well, leave?”

“Technically, Jesus was the one who was supposed to leave. I never planned on leaving-“

“Which was stupid”

“Because I didn’t want anyone else to get punished when Heaven found out what we had done. I knew the consequences for my actions and... When we would’ve been found out...” Aziraphale turned away. He couldn’t look at Crowley and tell him. Sure, his letters had explained most of what was to happen, but to verbally admit it face-to-face was so much harder than he thought.

 

Crowley stood, moving a stack of books over to stretch a leg over and then the other. He sat on the table, ignoring Aziraphale’s tuts of disapproval and leaned in closer to the angel. Their knees brushed together, the heat and presence so achingly familiar and soothing, the angel feared he’d break. This is all my fault… The words among countless others wanted to spill, but he clenched his jaw and told his brain to be quiet. Instead, he said with a clearer throat, “It doesn’t matter now, I suppose. What’s done is done. Now, we just have to find a way to stop the Metatron and make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

The angel started by the sudden heat over his hand. He looked down to find Crowley’s own hand covering his. When he looked up, Crowley was watching him closely. His tone so gentle, Aziraphale almost found it hard to believe it was his demon’s own voice. “You can’t blame yerself, Aziraphale. Raphael and those other blokes saved you because they believed in your cause. You can’t try to take everything on yourself all the time and you can’t expect people working with you to be fine with that. Let others help you carry that weight... Let me help you, too.” Oh.... Of course, Crowley saw right through him. The former demon had seen him in all states throughout the millennia. Gosh, it hurt so much to be known sometimes.

“I... I don’t know how” He admitted in a small voice. His slate-colored eyes shining and staring into those serpentine eyes he knew were staring back into his. Crowley reached his unbandaged hand up and cupped his cheek, his thumb stroking back and forth soothingly.

“Then let me show you... just like you showed me.” Somehow, without his noticing, their foreheads bumped each other, just leaning into the touch and taking in each other’s scents. Crowley’s comforting cinnamon-y scent with that hint of brimstone had always felt like coming home. More so than that Heavenly ozone smell that, over the years, made Aziraphale feel slightly nauseous.

 

They sat like that for a good while, the angel’s back screaming louder and louder the longer he stayed slouched forward. He didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay right here in this moment, no matter how much pain he was in. In the Metaphysical plane, he could hear the chains sliding. The burning metal digging into his skin, ruffling his feathers all the more. A part of him still wished he’d forgotten the reason for his back pain. The echoes of the past always there, constantly reminding him of his mistakes. Reminding him of his punishments.

Crowley leaned back, holding Aziraphale steady, so he didn’t plummet forward by the sudden missing weight he had been leaning against. Leaning back more comfortably in his chair, Crowley told him to sit there, wait and don’t you dare go anywhere, angel. Like a man-shaped being on a mission, he was among the shelves, heading straight for the small kitchenette. Aziraphale sighed, but obeyed his orders.

Not too long later, the doorbell chimed, alerting Aziraphale to someone’s presence. His body tensed, poised, ready to do- something. Once he saw it was only the young angel, his body relaxed. Muriel was no longer in their officer uniform, he noted, from seeing them the first time. They wore a dull cream wool sweater over a white button-up shirt, a flowy, cream plaid skirt with silvers and blues, some thick white leggings for against the chill outside, and their usual white shoes. It warmed Aziraphale’s heart to see them feeling more relaxed to wear something Heaven wouldn’t fully approve of.

 

Muriel beamed at Aziraphale, looking very excited, if not slightly nervous, to see he was awake and alright. “Supreme Archangel Aziraphale- Or is it Principality Aziraphale? Now that you’re no longer a Supreme Archangel anymore...”

“Just Aziraphale is fine, my dear. How have you been fairing?” Muriel quickly sat down on the sofa, both drinks of what Aziraphale could smell to be teas of some kind, and immediately launched into their adventures ecstatically. They spoke about how Maggie had been helping them from the start, then Nina joining in and, finally, Crowley. All the places they had seen and the things they had bought with Maggie and Crowley’s help. Muriel actually started drinking tea not too long ago (quite literally, they got brave enough to try about a month ago), they tried making some, but they must’ve done something wrong since the kettle sounded angry. Anyway, they’ve also been following the bookshop rules and Crowley had to step in a few times when some customers tried to intimidate them. It was a bit scary, but they never felt so protected before.

Aziraphale listened, his heart warm with joy that another angel was enjoying all that Earth had to offer so far and love for Crowley helping Muriel when he couldn’t. Though that brought a small bout of sadness to him as well. It was his duty to make sure Muriel was safe and knew more than they did before taking his place. And what did he do? He sent notes to them to hide Crowley’s letters, planned to stop the Second Coming and forgot all about them in that last month of work. He was a bad Principality and made an even worse Supreme Archangel. Aziraphale at least hoped he did something right for the other angels he tried to help while in Heaven. So many were like Muriel, so many with low self-esteem like himself.

 

Muriel’s excited greeting to Crowley snapped Aziraphale right back out of his negative thoughts. The former demon setting a cup of tea down on his desk and taking one of his usual seats; sitting on the arm of the angel’s armchair and leaning his warm body into him. Aziraphale thanked him, but left the tea to sit. His stomach lurching at the idea of any consumables right now while at the same time demanding it. Going from consuming food and drink every day for a few weeks to suddenly stopping was doing a number on him, but he couldn’t help it. Even though the tea would surely help him settle, he felt he didn’t deserve it. Not yet anyway.

Crowley inquired what all he missed and Muriel started up again. It was nice to hear how well the two got along together. It was clear Crowley cared for Muriel now as well, much like a parent for a child. Aziraphale closed his eyes and simply let the chatter wash over him, finding even more comfort in it. Some time passed, but the angel couldn’t be certain how much. His body felt relaxed, the hurts a background hum that won’t go away for quite some time. There was a point he swore he heard a knock at the door, but it all felt so far away. When he felt an arm loop around his shoulders and give him a squeeze, he opened his eyes slowly and looked up.

Crowley was looking at him over his shades with a questioning gaze. “Should drink your tea before it gets cold” Aziraphale looked down in front of him to see the former demon holding his cup in front of him in offering. The roiling feeling was back, a tickle at the back of his throat an alarming sensation.

“I highly doubt I would ever need to worry about that.” He tried with a lightening tone, but it came out wavering. The tea was set back down on the desk. A surprising weight landing on the top of his head, which now leaned against Crowley’s chest.

“I won’t try to tempt you,” Aziraphale lightly laughed, “But you will have to eat something soon. Get some fluids in ya too. Ye’re body’s too accustomed to eating and drinking and suddenly stopping again probably ain’t gonna do ya any favors. Especially since your body’s healing right now. Could use that restoring energy”

“Like you and sleep?” Aziraphale teased. He got a pleasant huff for his troubles.

 

“Uhm, Crowley?” Muriel rounded the corner, their hands clenching and unclenching at their sides, their feet stepping side to side. “I... I think that demon, Eric, is here? At least, that’s what it sounded like he said was his name. Figured you’d be able to confirm. I think I make him nervous?” With one last squeeze, Crowley gracefully stood and sauntered past Muriel with a friendly pat to their shoulder and went to greet their new guest. With nothing else to do, Muriel returned to their seat on the sofa with lowered eyes. The silence was awkward.

“You did a good job, Muriel” They looked up at Aziraphale, an unsure smile gracing their lips.

“Really?” Aziraphale nodded. The unsure smile turned more genuine, filled with pride. “Well, thank you, Mr. Aziraphale, sir!”

 

A moment later, Crowley led a skittish dark-skinned demon into their little nook in the bookshop. His demon hurried over and reclaimed his previous position and waved a hand for Eric to have a seat. Eric looked between Crowley, Aziraphale, and Muriel sitting alone on the sofa. The angel watched as Muriel scooted over to the other end of the sofa and patted the other side in invitation. Eric looked to Crowley, who gave a nod of assurance. Cautiously, the young demon waddled to the sofa and sank down, tucking himself into the other end, trying to make himself as small as possible. Muriel offered Eric tea which, to both angels’ surprise, he took with a thank you and carefully sipped at it. Aziraphale was sure it was only because of Crowley’s presence that Eric wasn’t more suspicious of the drink nor bolting away in fear. Poor boy was vibrating where he sat. “So... I think introductions are in order?”

 

~•○•~

 

The heavy door opened and shut in near quick succession. Instead of the familiar click-clack of heels or thundering footsteps, it was a quieter footfall that caught his attention. A new visitor from a once old friend. “If you have come to ask the same questions, you are wasting your time, Uriel.” Raphael spoke bitterly. He was so done with the same questions and pitying looks. He wondered how Aziraphale had always handled it so well. The footsteps stopped a few feet away from him. There was a rustle of clothing and then nothing. They sat together in silence for a long time, Uriel always taking their time before striking. Raphael opened his eyes to see Uriel sitting across from him, regarding him not with the cool expression they always wore, but curiosity. It was definitely more refreshing and preferable from the pitying one he’d been receiving as of late.

“I wish to understand...” Raphael waited, but when no other information came, he prompted.

“About what?”

“I overheard your conversation with Michael.” They admitted with no amount of guilt. “You said she, among others, was blind. Said we should understand that perhaps this is not the Almighty’s will. If not Hers, who do you believe wishes for this?” This line of questioning could be a trap. Uriel had been strangely quiet for the last few months before they took action in enacting their plan. More quiet than usual. He wanted to believe he could trust them, but what if this was just another way to get him to talk?

 

“Does it matter who else I believe is responsible? You, Saraqael, and Michael had proposed this plan to Gabriel before he left and he turned it down. Clearly, you and them, along with the Metatron, still want your War. Am I incorrect?” Uriel remained still, but their gaze shifted minutely before returning to his own.

“Why do you not wish it? We are simply doing what is expected of us. We are angels and they are demons. They corrupted the Almighty’s creation, and we must cleanse it once and for all.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to. Uriel, they were once our brothers and sisters!”

“You live in the past, Raphael. They no longer are. They demanded more and thus Fell because of Satan’s corruption. Now, they are mere husks of themselves. The Almighty ripped Her Love from them and now all they feel is sinful”

“And Crowley? Beelzebub?” Uriel did not answer. Raphael could see thoughts whirling inside their mind, trying to come up with a response, but coming up empty. “You cannot truly believe they have no other emotion. It’s true, they can no longer feel Mother’s Love, but perhaps they can feel love in another sense. One much like the humans.”

 

“That... is not possible…” Uriel spoke uncertainly.

“Is it not?” Raphael challenged. “Anyone could sense Crowley’s love miles away for Aziraphale. Could you not see it between Gabriel and Beelzebub when you saw them together?” Uriel stood abruptly. Their cool mask back in place before whirling around and heading for the door. “If you wish to understand, perhaps speak to someone with more knowledge on the subject” He called across the room. The door opened, Uriel’s frame becoming consumed by the blinding light before he was left alone, surrounded by darkness. The only light was the dim, soft yellow Glow from above his head.

Notes:

Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter! I also wanted to admit (not too guiltily) that I planned on posting it earlier, buuut got too distracted by a current audiobook I've been waiting for to come out for a while now! I'll leave info down below this in case ye're curious ;) aaand maybe gush a little hehe~ Anywho, thanks again and hope y'all have a great night/day 🩶

 

Ok, for those curious. The audiobook is called "For Whom the Belle Tolls" by Jaysea Lynn. She started this out as a TikTok series called "Hells Belles" and then wrote her book starting here, actually! I don't think it can be found on here anymore (at least I hadn't found it again after things got rolling for her). I cannot tell you how freaking excited I was to finally listen! I've been listening to it over on Spotify as that's what I have and I believe it's on Audible too? At least, I think I remember my friend saying she found it there. To give you a bit of a heads up, it's an afterlife story that talks about death (of course) and there is quite a bit of... smut in it. That's all I'm gonna say.

Chapter 17: Friend or Foe?

Summary:

Much bickering, a little message from our new outside demon, and some revisiting.

Notes:

Thank you Tumblr for helping me out a little bit with this chapter! Stress sucks for trying to come up with basic insulting names XD It's said with love of course!

“No, absolutely not!” Crowley nearly shouted, pacing the floor angrily. After some time explaining to Eric what was happening, Beelzebub came down and asked to speak to Crowley in private. Shrugging, acting unbothered, he got up from his comfy spot (quite reluctantly) and followed zem through the rows of books to a quieter place so no one else could hear them. Beelzebub told Crowley while zey and Gabriel explored London, they both ran into quite a few, not just demons, but angels as well. While Gabriel had talked to a few angels he recognised (against Beelzebub’s wishes) and they explained that their visit to Earth was purely for research (a part of the program Aziraphale started months ago), Beelzebub preferred to watch the demons from afar.

While most were doing Temptations as per their jobs, a few, zey knew, were definitely not. Beelzebub finally took action when zey saw Furfur skulking around with a few humans. He spilled the beans right quick, telling them about the Game taking place and promised rewards. Beelzebub then told Gabriel and, well, that’s where the conversation led to their current argument.

Gabriel acted unaffected and pretended to not care all that much what happened with the two beings that helped him. But the truth was, he secretly worried about Aziraphale and after his chat with Crowley, it made his feelings even more complicated. True, he didn’t say as much, but Beelzebub saw it and, to be frank, zey also had a bit of a soft spot for Crowley. Zey would never admit to it, but Crowley could see some respect in there… somewhere. (Ignoring the whole ‘trial’ thing. Plus, this was a newer development- or so zey would have everyone believe)

Anyway, off topic, but the problem here is Gabriel wants to contact Jesus to come over and Beelzebub wants to talk to Aziraphale about the demons hunting him instead of them both just fucking off like they said they would! Why the bloody heck are they sticking their noses deeper in when they don’t need to anymore? Gabriel did his part, got a pass (for now) from Crowley, and now they can just leave!

Doesn’t Gabriel understand that contacting Jesus or, frankly, anyone associated with Heaven that matter, could put them all in more danger?! And what good would talking to Aziraphale about the hunt do? Nothing, that’s what! “Listen,” he pointed a finger at Beelzebub, “We can figure the rest out ourselves! No need for you and Mr. Macho upstairs to stick around any longer, eh?” Beelzebub rolled zer eyes at him.

”Barbatos is one of ze hunters, is he not?”

”Well… yeah?”

”So, zat means we need to figure out why he hazn’t taken Aziraphale yet”

”Wha-what do you mean?” Crowley didn’t like where this was going suddenly.

”He’s not just a great hunter, idiot. He’s one of Hell’s BEST. If he joined the hunt, that meanz he already found Aziraphale. Probably haz known where he’z been since before you came here and been tracking you as well. The question now, iz why he hazn’t made a move.” Crowley gulped thickly. Goosebumps breaking out across his flesh along with a chill running down his spine. He hadn’t thought of that. He momentarily forgot all about him, since his primary concerns at the time were Hastur and Shax. Two bigger threats on his list, in his opinion. He felt like such an idiot now.

”Look,” Zey continued, “I got information you don’t have that you clearly need. I don’t care if everyone listenz, your angel needz it. I still owe you both for protecting Gabriel anyway and thiz iz my contribution. After thiz, I’m done. Thiz planet’s nice to vizit, but I much prefer home.” Crowley grumbled ‘Oh, I bet, lucky bastard’ before walking back to the conversation, still going on up front.

Eric’s scrunched up body looked a bit more relaxed and comfortable than when he first arrived. His eyes watching Muriel curiously and telling them his favourite things he had experienced on Earth when he got the chance. Muriel clapping excitedly and showing off their bee plushie with all the excitement a child possessed, showing off one of their most prized possessions. Eric was definitely more comfortable with Muriel than Aziraphale, still eyeing him with cation anytime he spoke. Aziraphale didn’t seem to take it to heart. He also only chimed in their conversation to correct them on certain things, it seemed.

Crowley leaped back up on the arm of the armchair and reclaimed his leaning position, only this time wrapping both arms around the angel possessively. He was still a demon, after all, and he was taking advantage of the fact the angel was letting him do this at all. If anyone asked (not that anyone would, they all knew what was up), he was simply stealing Aziraphale’s warmth. Even with the ancient heater in this old place, it was still bloody cold, and he was a serpent demon. He needed another heated source to make up for his poor circulation.

 

Beelzebub stood nearby, Eric sitting up straighter with a nervousness that had only left him not too long ago. It returned to him in double quantity. Beelzebub acknowledged him with a nod before looking over at Aziraphale. Zey glanced at Crowley with a look of annoyance before going back to the tired angel. “Aziraphale” Crowley heard the angel gulp. He gave him a squeeze. “I take it you know of the Game that’z happening?”

”I assume you mean ‘am I aware of the demons hunting me?’ Then yes”

”You know all who’s hunting you?” Oh shit, Crowley hadn’t told him who all was after him.

”Well no, I’m not aware of all the participants” Beelzebub shot a disapproving glare at Crowley. He buried his face in the angel’s curls guiltily.

”Crowley didn’t tell you?” Zer tone was more annoyance than surprise. Damn, Beez knew him too well.

 

”If you recall,” Crowley’s muffled voice chimed in, “He had no memories when I mentioned people looking for him.” He heard Beelzebub sigh irritably.

”Dumbarse! Ya spent all this time talking and not once told him that?”

”It never came up!” Crowley removed his face from his hiding spot and spread his arms out wide. Beelzebub squeezed zer eyes shut and tilted zer head up towards the ceiling.

”How you both ever coordinated, I don’t understand! No wonder you both are awful at communication”

”Oí! You’d be awful too if you always had to watch your back by both our lots AND the humans through the millennia!”

 

”We did what we had to in order to survive.” Aziraphale interjected. “Although we are working on it.” Crowley leaned back again with one arm looped around Aziraphale’s shoulder and his other hand point vaguely in his direction.

”What he said, working on it.” Beelzebub lifted a brow skeptically, but kept zer mouth shut on the matter.

”Whatever, you’re both hopeless,” Ok, not completely, then. “Back to the issue at hand. Shax may be persistent, but she won’t be your biggest threat and, from the sounds of it, you already took care of Hastur.” Crowley looked down at Aziraphale when he tensed up. His serpentine eyes watched closely as the angel shifted minutely and cast his eyes down, as if something else caught his attention. He only looked back up when the demon before them continued, “But, there is a much bigger threat still at large. Barbatos”

”Barbatos?” Aziraphale questioned.

”You don’t mean Hunter demon Barbatos, right?” Eric asked anxiously.

”The very zame.” Beelzebub answered darkly. Eric shivered in response. Muriel offered their bee plushie to him for comfort. He looked at it, surprised to see it so close, then looked at them, confused. Muriel looked down shyly, waiting until understanding dawned on the other demon’s face. He smiled and shook his head, but shifted a bit closer, which seemed to make Muriel a bit more happy to have achieved something.

”Aziraphale,” both Aziraphale and Crowley turned their attentions back to Beelzebub. Zey asked if he’d seen a demon with a description that sounded more human than he was expecting. It was when Aziraphale hesitantly confirmed that he had seen that demon not only once (and spoken to him no less!), but twice that had Crowley looking him over again. Both on this plane and the next, looking for any signs of tampering or other demonic signature laid upon his angel.

Aziraphale tutted at Crowley’s studying gaze and, really dear, that is completely necessary! “He actually helped me find Crowley back at the village near the cottage I was staying at.”

”Wait- staying at?” Crowley questioned. Aziraphale patted his hand resting on his own knee with a look that told him he would explain later. The former demon wanted nothing more right then and there to drag the angel away and demand answers right now. So, he didn’t buy the cottage?

 

”Zo, you spoke to him and saw him again after that?” Beelzebub asked.

”I believe so, yes. When Crowley and I arrived, actually. Right outside” Everyone turned their heads to look out the window where Aziraphale was pointing. It was around the area where the Bentley was parked. Curious, the former demon stood and walked out the door, grabbing his hanging coat on the way to bundle up. The snow fell around him in tiny specks. The cold nipped at his exposed skin, making his teeth chatter. He quickly strode over to his car, unsure of what he was looking for. Perhaps some sort of clue of the other demon’s presence. As he circled his car, he noticed something sitting in his driver’s seat. He opened the door, snow that stuck to the Bentley falling off and staying well away from the interior of the precious vehicle.

He could feel the occult power rolling off of the black cassette tape. Crowley picked it up, sat in his car and shut the door. He eyed the little tape with suspicion. He knew he was meant to put it into his cassette player and listen to whatever’s on it, but it could be a trap. And why bother with a tape in the first place? Whoever wanted his attention could’ve easily reached through his stereo like so many others had. This felt... formal, like an invitation, in a sense. Perhaps it was from that Barbatos guy. Tapping at the tape, Crowley took a breath and let his curiosity take the lead. The previous tape of Best of Queen popped out into his hand. He popped the mysterious tape in and braced himself. He wasn’t sure for what, but anything could happen. There was a click and then a voice within the static. It was smooth and reminded Crowley of hunters (both the animal kind and humankind).

 

“Hello Crowley,” The voice leaned away asking, ‘are you sure it’s going? Ah, alright’, clearing his voice, and continued on, “You may not have heard of me until now, but I know much about you. Lucifer had spoken very highly of you before you left. Even I was impressed by your little... trick during your trial. (Crowley gulped. Did they know?) But enough about that! I just wanted to let you know that there is no reason for you or that angel you care so much about to worry about me- Oh! I’m Barbatos, by the way. I’m not used to this way of speaking to someone.

“I didn’t think it was a... well, I thought you’d be more comfortable with this rather than me showing up. Unfortunately, I had to recruit some help with how to work this little contraption. With a lot of the Erics spread out right now, I had to contact one of my old students. Have you ever met Rinaj? Terrible fal-“ There was a hiss in the background, cutting off the demon’s rambling. Barbatos cleared his throat, “But like I said, you have no reason to worry about me or the other demons for that matter. Shax might come back around in a while, lots of business for her to cover. Do give Beelzebub my greetings” The tape clicked and spat back out violently, making Crowley jump.

The former demon... didn’t know what to make of the rambling message other than he and Aziraphale were safe. However, he didn’t trust other demons’ words. One of the easier lessons he learned from his time working Downstairs. Crowley rubbed his eyes. The exhaustion bleeding through his bones made his body feel heavier. It was just like what he told Aziraphale earlier; once the body gets into the habit of something and then loses it, it will greatly affect you. And right now, he wanted to sleep.

 

Crowley walked back into the bookshop, his entire body vibrating in place from the cold that refused to leave him now that he was somewhere warmer. When Crowley looked up, his coat hanging limply half-off, he stared blankly at Aziraphale standing in front of him. His brow pinched ever so slightly and leaning heavily against that damn cane again. He shook his head at Aziraphale, quickly took off his coat and hung it. “What’re you doing, angel?” He asked, exasperated.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Obviously, it was not. “I, uhm, just wanted to watch you”

“...From the doors?” Aziraphale nodded with a hum. “Instead of the perfectly good window looking directly at the Bentley...” Aziraphale’s head lowered, humming affirmative again. “From your perfectly comfy chair?”

“Well, alright!” Aziraphale threw his free hand up, lifting his head and looking directly at Crowley. “If you must know, I wanted to be ready.”

“Ready? For what, an attack? Aziraph- angel- what were you expecting to do? Whack them with your cane? You can barely stand on your own right now!”

 

Aziraphale stood taller and lifted his chin in defiance. “I’ll have you know the cane is not necessary!” His grip on said cane tightened. “I can stand perfectly well on my own! It’s just nice to have a little extra support, is all”

“A little extra support?” Crowley looked over his shades at the shorter angel before him.

“Yes,” Aziraphale huffed, “You saw what was inside, so you know that it comes in handy”

“Oh, well,” Crowley scoffed, turning away from the angel and taking a couple steps. “Forgive me for assuming things. Ya know,” He turned back to him with his hand twirling towards him. “After 6,000 years, ya’d think I’d know a thing or two about you. Specifically, like now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aziraphale asked. A bit quieter than their earlier bickering. Crowley turned fully towards him, walked up to him, and resisted that brief whisper that told him to put his hand on the angel’s arm.

“Means I know when ye’re bullshitting me. Means I know there’s still more to you I don’t know about. Not like I can talk, either” Crowley bowed his head and stared at the floor. His voice lower for just Aziraphale to hear. “Gosh, we really are bad at this. ‘S like we never stopped dancing at all” He chucked humorlessly.

 

A plump, warm finger and thumb took the former demon’s chin and lifted his head. The angel was so much closer to him than before, he could almost feel that ghost of breath on his skin. “I’m sorry,” Aziraphale apologized wetly. “You... have a right to worry, though I hate making you so. I imagine the feeling is quite mutual?” Crowley snorted, which made Aziraphale smile, “I don’t know if I- W-what I mean to say is-“ Aziraphale dipped his head down, took a deep breath, then looked back up. “I’d ignore it all for you. When the time comes, I’ll tell you all you wish to know. And... when you are ready, I will be also be there to listen. I promise you that” Crowley shivered at that, feeling the truth in those words flow through him to his black heart. It wasn’t the promise, but it was a start. He supposed this would have to do for now.

“Oi! Tossers!” Beelzebub called. Crowley growled at the interruption, “Ya done makin’ out yet? We got more to cover” Both the angel and former demon blushed a deep red at the insinuation. Crowley didn’t think they’d ever kiss again after that last time. He especially wasn’t ready for it. Wasn’t even sure if Aziraphale wanted to. However, the way the angel glanced at his lips then fully looked away had him second guessing that thought.

When Crowley and Aziraphale slowly made their way back to their seats, the former demon did the one thing he’d never dare do before; he flipped his former boss off so only zey saw. Shockingly, it drew a snort out of zem. Crowley helped Aziraphale settle in before taking his own seat and leaning back into his personal heater. He was still feeling cold.

 

“By the way,” Crowley started, “Barbatos says hi” Beelzebub simply looked at him, waiting for him to continue. If he waited long enough, he knew it’d annoy them. Lucky for zem, he was feeling generous- even with zer interruption. “Also says we don’t need to worry about him or the other demons. Shax’s also buried in business Down there, apparently” Beelzebub smirked at that.

“Sounds like there’s nothing else to worry about Hell-wise”

“How can you be so certain?” Aziraphale asked, voicing Crowley’s own concern.

“Cuz even though Barbatos is a demon, he’s actually one of the more truthful ones. One of the reazons Lucifer favored him.” Aziraphale made that ‘o’ face and nodded.

 

“Great, well, now that that’s out of the way,” Crowley looked to Beelzebub. “Now, can you and Gabe fuck off?”

“Crowley!” Aziraphale’s tone scolded. Crowley turned to him with the face of innocence.

“What? I asked instead of demanded” In his defence, he had made some progress. (key word, some).

“Really, my dear-“

 

“Am I missing something?” Gabriel cut in, making Crowley jump and almost slip into Aziraphale’s lap. He just barely caught himself. The former demon wondered if he could get away with doing it on purpose one day- nope, shutting that thought down right now! Due to Muriel’s yelp of surprise, Crowley looked over to see he wasn’t the only one who nearly fell onto an angel. Eric and jumped so far back in his seat, his back had brushed Muriel’s shoulder. Now, he looked even more mortified and shrunk in on himself, trying to disappear into the cushions. Muriel, being the brave being they were, scooted closer to him and was speaking softly to him. “What’s he doing here? Didn’t he attack the bookshop?” Gabriel asked in confusion.

“He didn’t,” Crowley and Aziraphale defended. They looked at each other before looking back at the even more confused Gabriel. Crowley plowed on, “Just a few of his other copies did. Without a lead, he’s practically harmless” Muriel, surprisingly, glared at Crowley for his choice of words. Just what did they talk about while he was with Beelzebub to get Muriel suddenly defending Eric so quickly? They had a big, naïve heart, but Crowley didn’t expect them both to bond that fast.

 

Beelzebub approached Gabriel and threw around his waist which had him throwing his arm around zer shoulders. The look zey was giving him was still unsettling to the former demon (If he were looking at Aziraphale, he would’ve found the angel had the look of envy wrapped up in a lovey-dovey expression). “We’ve been waiting for you. I figured I’d let you tell them the entire problem seeing how it’s Heaven-related.”

“Whole problem?” Aziraphale asked, his pitch going slightly higher. Gabriel grimaced at whatever this was and turned his gaze to both former demon and angel.

“Right, but first. I want to know what you did up in Heaven, Aziraphale. The Metatron doesn’t need you to start the Second Coming, so I’m confused why he didn’t lock you up the minute you got Up there.” Crowley sat up straighter at that, his body going entirely rigid.

“Beg pardon?” Aziraphale’s pitch went higher and more quiet that time. Gabriel nodded, as if what he was saying made sense.

“Think about it; If they succeeded in demoting me to a mindless angel (Aziraphale shot daggers at Gabriel for his poor choice of words, even if they were accurate in his case), they could’ve just started the war. The only threat then would’ve been you and Crowley, albeit minor.”

 

“Watch it” Crowley lowly growled. Aziraphale poked his side and shushed him.

“After that big miracle you both used to hide me, big guy upstairs noticed you both could be bigger threats than before. So, how else could he get you (he pointed at Aziraphale) other than to give you a chance to change things and split you both up.”

“He bloody planned this,” Crowley said under his breath, connecting the pieces. “He intentionally split us up so we wouldn’t try to stop their war this time.” His blood boiled at the realization. He replayed the angel’s words from before, down below the bookshop. Aziraphale had said the Metatron threatened his life and continued to do so even after he left. He knew and Gabriel confirmed what the angel said. Aziraphale’s breath stuttered, his eyes looking far away. Looking at his pale friend, he also realized that Aziraphale was reacting to Gabriel’s other words.

He wasn’t needed. Never was. He was only being used and kept distracted. If Muriel had learned he was locked up, she could have told Crowley, and the former demon would have—Crowley’s jaw clenched as he mentally counted to ten. It barely helped calm his fury. It was exactly just like when they still worked for both sides. Heaven barely gave (if they did) two shits about his angel. The constant implication that he was easily replaceable, warnings to be cautious, and silently reminding him he was insignificant. Just another cog in the machine. Someone to keep busy and help score souls for a board no one really cared about. A game before the war.

 

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s shoulders, hoping it comforted him. Both were still uneasy with showing affection in front of others. The former demon glanced over at Aziraphale. The angel seemed at war with himself, but with others watching, the angel ultimately patted Crowley’s back to signal to let go. He did, reluctantly. Aziraphale took a deep breath and began his tale. Over time, Raphael accessed the memory files of the Archangels Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael, deleting them in small increments when they were at their most busiest, so no one suspected a thing. Not too much, mind you, just the bits of the war plans they didn’t care about. Soon after, Raziel and Aziraphale told the Information Department that all files on the Second Coming must go to them and do not bother sending them out to everyone. They needed to be updated and changed immediately.

Some angels hesitated, but with Raziel at his side, they complied. Meanwhile, Zadkiel and Raguel continued to play host with Jesus while secretly keeping an eye on the other Archangels and the Metatron. The Metatron had inquired why they were showing the Son of God around, and Jesus simply told him he wished to learn more about these two beings. It was, after all, quite nice to speak to new people sometimes. Not wanting to argue or was too busy at the time to care, the Metatron left them to it.

Later on, Aziraphale had slipped away for other matters (those being leaving a final message for Crowley, but they didn’t need to know that), so he didn’t know the full details of what happened during that time. Once he was called upon, they all agreed to split up to complete their tasks; distract, burn the files, get the Book, escape. Of course, Heaven forcibly removed Aziraphale at that point, and that’s when he returned to Earth. Everyone listened with rapt attention. Eric, once huddled in a ball, slowly unwound from his spot and now sat shoulder to shoulder with Muriel. Gabriel nodded along, hummed here and there making Crowley want to punch him for it, and now stood in thought. Beelzebub looked impressed by the plan.

 

Crowley had mixed feelings. He was proud of his angel, but couldn’t help the small bit of anger at the recklessness and wanting to stay just to be a scapegoat. He’d have to thank Raphael or Raziel and have one of them thank the others for him. “So, that’s the whole story?” Gabriel asked. Aziraphale nodded. “What about the Metatron?”

Unfortunately, last I heard, no one could access his memories to alter them. There was some sort of block on it”

“Figures” Crowley commented. Of course, it wasn’t that easy.

“So, he’s still a problem.” Gabriel sighed. “Hang on, how come Raphael didn’t make me forget?”

“Is that really a problem right now?” Beelzebub asked, exasperated. Gabriel turned to zer raised eyebrow then lowered his head like a child.

“Well... no, I guess not”

“He... didn’t see any reason since you left Heaven and had no reason to return.” Aziraphale supplied. Gabriel nodded and accepted this. A knock on the door drew everyone’s attention. Crowley flicked his serpentine tongue out. His blood froze in horror.

Notes:

Hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! I had to go back and change a couple of things cuz I felt like Crowley and Aziraphale's characters were slipping from me a tad. So, I had to revisit some things... Anywho, things are picking up again and, who knows, this might be where things FINALLY kick off Heaven-wise! Have a wonderful day/night 🩶

Chapter 18: No Good News

Summary:

The ineffable duo simply cannot catch a break. A new angel is introduced and delivers a message.

Notes:

Happy Pride Month everyone! Sorry this took so long. Still adjusting to my current situation IRL. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Angels were on the other side of those doors. Waiting for one angel- the only angel that should be in this area currently- to open the door. All eyes shifted to Crowley, Muriel, then Aziraphale. They were fucked. “Maybe this won’t be so bad.” Gabriel broke the tense silence with an added shrug. Crowley scowled at the oblivious angel, baring his teeth and growling in frustration. The demon began to pace. Aziraphale watched curiously, his own gears turning on, formulating a plan. Depending on who was on the other side of the bookshops doors, knocking again, they could either be angels who trusted him or who were hunting him. The angel wanted to believe they were the former.

“Alright,” Crowley breathed, approaching Aziraphale, “We go out the back door and leave for a little while. Come back when it’s all clear and formulate a plan”

“Run away?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley’s head moved side to side with a shrug of his shoulders. The angel shook his head. “No, I think we should stay here-“

“Stay here?!” Crowley hissed in disbelief, interrupting Aziraphale.

 

“Crowley’s right,” Gabriel jumped in. “Getting away from here is the best option for now. They get their hands on you and all that Raziel and whoever else did will be for nothing. For once, Aziraphale, you need to do as you’re told.” The angel closed his mouth and pressed his lips in a thin line. He refused to flinch at the jab.

“Uhm, can I say something?” All eyes turned to Muriel. They shifted on their feet side to side, eyes looking from their feet to each being in the room anxiously.

“What is it, Muriel?” Aziraphale asked gently. He understood how hard it was to speak up with your superiors (ignoring the fact that all of them were now known as ‘former’ superiors) was. Muriel gave a small, shaky smile and cleared their throat.

“Right, uhm, if Mr. Aziraphale refused to leave, a-and you say he shouldn’t stay here, what about that hidden room below?” Aziraphale smiled proudly and turned to the others. Realization dawning on Crowley’s face at the implications of what he had told them before; the hidden room could hide all from both Heaven and Hell.

“Would that really work?” Gabriel asked, his head tilted.

 

“Indubitably” Aziraphale chirped. The knocking returned, sharper than before. They were out of time. Aziraphale turned towards the bookshelf, pulled the red book, and turned back to Muriel while Gabriel was being ushered by Beelzebub and Eric (who was looking between Muriel and Crowley very confused and a little scared) by Crowley to the secret room once again. “Now listen carefully. If any of them are from that list I gave you a while back, you open this door and call us, alright?”

“List?” Crowley questioned, stopping beside the angel. Muriel nodded, their face hardened in determination.

“I won’t let you down” Aziraphale shook his fist and gave them with a confident smile. Crowley rolled his eyes (and head) and ushered his angel into the secret room, closing the door behind him. The moment the door was closed, and they began to descend, Eric turned to Crowley and Aziraphale. Clear worry showed on his face.

“Is Muriel going to be ok?”

“No need to fret, dear boy,” Aziraphale assured, “Muriel won’t let us down. They know exactly what they’re doing... by now, anyway.” Crowley tapped Aziraphale’s shoulder and leaned in close, his chin nearly resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“How long has this whole.... secrecy thing been going on, exactly? You aren’t exactly very good at keeping secrets, you know”

“I kept you a secret, didn’t I?”

“Barely” Eric chimed in. Aziraphale sniffed irritably. Crowley merely shrugged with his own comment.

“Hell was smarter in... some aspects” Aziraphale gawked in indignation. The former demon then reached past the angel and waved his hand, “Eric, could you...?” Eric, catching onto what Crowley was asking, hurried faster down the rest of the steps and deeper into the small room.

 

Crowley then turned to Aziraphale and whispered the one question he’d been wanting to ask since they got back. “List?” Aziraphale looked at him, confused, before it clicked in his head.

“Ah, yes! While I was in Heaven, I had made a list of all the angels who we could trust and those who were out to- what was that saying?- out for my deck?”

“Neck, Aziraphale, out for your neck”

“Ah, that does make more sense.”

“Angel, I don’t think you should’ve told Muriel to call us if those angels are our allies”

 

Aziraphale stopped at the bottom of the steps. While he understood Crowley’s mistrust, they really did need all the help they could get right now. After all, it was as Crowley said a few years ago. It was them and humanity against everyone. But, if it didn’t have to be, then surely they could take this risk with more like them on their side. “I thought you trusted me, Crowley”

“I do trust you! I just don’t trust them,” Crowley whispered harshly, pointing at the top of the staircase. “Twice, Aziraphale, I lost you to Heaven. Twice in the last five years.” He looked over, the angel followed his gaze to see Gabriel and Beelzebub deep in their own private conversation. Those long fingers grasped his own and yanked him towards the floor hatch, excusing themselves and pushing Aziraphale to go down first. Once the hatch was closed, Crowley’s hand hovered over his glasses, shaken by nerves, before giving up and dropping it away. The former demon paced the small room, agitation bleeding from his form. His shoulders hunched, muttering half-formed words under his breath. And just as he started, he suddenly stopped.

Aziraphale watched on with his hands twisting around and around themselves, helplessly. The angel felt guilty for making Crowley think he lost him that first time. He never meant to go in the portal, never meant to lose his body and that day. When Crowley had told him he lost his best friend, the angel hadn’t connected two and two together until everything had passed. He felt quite ridiculous for not realizing it at the time, felt even worse for brushing it off like he did, even though he was on a mission. Time sensitive and in need of haste. Later on, he himself expressed that he too considered Crowley his best friend afterwards. In fact, he said it so much one day that even Crowley asked him to please stop. Though, he could tell that Crowley enjoyed it just as much as Aziraphale said it. (I think it should be noted that most of this time was said while Crowley was a snake for a while)

This second time though, this second blasted time, Aziraphale didn’t allow himself to feel. He couldn’t. He knew that if he felt, everything he was doing would overwhelm him. So, whenever he had to do something difficult, the angel disassociated from the situation and acted like another person; his past self, if you will. Digging up old beliefs and putting on that old face that trusted every word from Heaven. It hurt more than anything and it hurt more than being discorporated when he saw Crowley’s reaction to every poisonous and vile word that left his tongue. And when he kissed him, the angel’s front shattered instantly. He found it hard to reel that numb feeling back in, to distance himself again and ignore the painful burn in his chest. He will never forgive himself for it.

The former demon walked up to Aziraphale, his brows knitted and lips thinned in determination. “Angel, I can’t keep losing you to them. I barely started healing when I sensed you crashing down here. If you disappear again- I REALLY don’t know what I’ll do.” Untwisting his hands, the angel took a deep breath. He can be brave, he had to be. His hands shook, reaching forward and grasped onto his friend’s. Crowley’s shoulders tensed and his breathing stopped. Aziraphale licked his lips anxiously.

“You won’t lose me to Heaven again. I never want to go back up there for the rest of my existence.” Crowley lowered his head and pulled one of his hands free from Aziraphale’s own.

“Promise me, then.” There was that heavy feeling again. Something in the air shifting to attention. The former demon pulled his sunglasses off and looked the angel in the eyes with his own beautiful serpentine ones. “Promise me you will never, under any circumstances, set foot in Heaven again” Aziraphale shook his head.

“I can’t promise you that, my dear. What if I get discorporated again?”

“Discorporated- Aziraphale, if that happens, then just stay down here! I’m sure ya can’t get sucked back to Heaven anymore, anyway. They probably turned yer whole... return-to-HQ-thing off by now. At least mine’s been severed. Haven’t felt the strong pull to Downstairs after Beez left zer post, anyway. Look, point is, that won’t happen. Not while I’m around.” The angel chewed at his bottom lip. He didn’t really know what Crowley was on about. The angel knew certain demons had literal chains around their True Forms that tugged them back down to Hell whenever Satan wanted them. Crowley was one of them, after all. However, the redhead made it sound like it was the same for angels, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

The Almighty had gifted them with a way to return home if they ever needed to, and that included discorporation. Perhaps that’s what Crowley was referring to... In any case, he had to answer his friend quickly. Crowley was offering a piece of himself to link and bind the Promise around them. However, Aziraphale needed Crowley to Promise something as well. “Alright, but in return, I’d like you to promise me something.” The former demon’s brow quirked up. “Then promise, under no circumstances, will you take the Metatron on alone. I know that if given the chance, you would try, and I can’t have that.”

“So... We do it together?” Aziraphale smiled and nodded.

“Together” The Promise was made, linking the two together in an unbreakable vow. But there was something more. An invisible weight had been removed from the angel’s being. Aziraphale frowned, releasing Crowley’s hands and felt his physical body. Nothing seemed to be out of place, and yet there was something different. It wasn’t a feeling of wrongness, per se, but he wasn’t sure if it was quite right either.

 

A knock on the hatch door broke Aziraphale’s concentration. Gabriel was calling for them both to come up. There was an angel with Muriel that demanded to see either Aziraphale or Crowley. The duo looked at one another. A single word echoing in both of them. With a nod, albeit a bit reluctantly on Crowley’s part, the two climbed the rickety ladder and exited the hidden room with Beelzebub and Gabriel in tow.

Cautiously, Crowley walked ahead of everyone and looked around the bookshelf. Following the former demon’s gaze, Aziraphale’s head, too, peeked around to get a look at their unwanted guest. His breath caught at one of his own charges from his old platoon. A dear old friend and trusted ally, if he did say so himself. The principality had his back to them, his dark brown hair tied back in a short ponytail gleaming in the sun’s rays. His long, thin gilet a light periwinkle that paired nicely with his off-white sleeves and dressing pants. The man-shaped being stood with his back straight and arms crossed behind his back. A telltale sign to Aziraphale that the angel in front of them was nervously waiting.

Aziraphale beamed, ignoring Crowley’s attempts to stop him as he rounded around the bookshelf and called out to the angel happily with relief, “Benjeem!” The principality, Benjeem, swung around, nearly jumping out of his corporation’s skin. His deep space-colored eyes widened in shock. “Oh my, dear boy! How lovely it is to see you again!” A small, disbelieving smile formed on the pale angel’s face. Aziraphale took his hand and shook it firmly. Gabriel came out from the corner as well, looking on in stunned confusion. He pointed at the new angel.

“Wait, who are you?” Benjeem and Aziraphale turned to the former Supreme Archangel. Benjeem’s body tensed at Gabriel’s entrance and sudden appearance.

“Gabriel, this is Benjeem. You would know him more properly as Benjiel.” Benjeem nodded along.

“Benjiel?” Gabriel asked incredulously. The whole renaming idea, no matter how small, seemed to really go over his head.

 

“Right,” Benjeem answered, “I wanted something more myself after a while and decided to change it a little. Not many people know. Heaven wouldn’t support it, obviously.”

“Obvioussssly” The hissed response came, Crowley dramatically twirling around the bookshelf and into view. Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed. The old serpent really did pick the finest moments to try to intimidate people. However, when he turned to explain to Benjeem that Crowley was not a threat, he paused. What the angel was expecting to see was fear or even apprehension, perhaps even disgust, like other angels. What he found, instead, were those eyes gleaming with awe and excitement. Maybe with even a hint of nervousness. This also took Crowley aback. Whatever words he had in his throat had disappeared.

“You must be Mr. Crowley. I’ve heard a lot about you!” Benjeem was even more excited than Aziraphale thought. Broken syllables and choking sounds came from the serpent before he elegantly questioned.

“Huh?”

“Not your finest reply, traitor.” Beelzebub said with a small grin, finding this whole interaction particularly amusing. Looking through the gap, Aziraphale could see Eric was watching the scene from the darkness within the shelves. Hiding in fear, it seemed. The angel then turned his attention back to Benjeem. The principality stood frozen, his eyes studying the Lord of the Flies with the apprehension he was expecting before. Now, he really had to explain.

 

“Ah, Benjeem, this is Beelzebub. Lord of the Flies” Lord of the Flies smiled menacingly and waved zer fingers. Aziraphale could hear the Principality gulp and watched him give a small, anxious wave in return. Benjeem then leaned down a bit and whispered to Aziraphale, his eyes never leaving Beelzebub a second.

“And, uhm, who’s that among the shelves?”

“That’s Eric. Don’t mind him, he’s still getting used to being around this many angels.” Benjeem nodded in understanding. He cleared his throat, stood straight again and rolled his shoulders as if he were getting ready for battle.

“Right, so, mind telling us what you’re doing here, Benny?” Aziraphale glared at Crowley’s disrespect.

“Benjeem” Aziraphale corrected.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Benjeem stepped forward, ending whatever else Aziraphale was about to say and ignoring the ‘nickname’.

 

“I come bearing news from the Son of God.” That got everyone’s attention back on track. “He told me that the time has come to take action. The Metatron has sent orders out to eliminate the demon Crowley on sight and to arrest Aziraphale on several charges of trickery, manipulating other angels, lying to the Archangels-“

“We get it, kid, no need for the whole list.” Crowley cut in, waving his hand to rush him along, “What else did the good ol’ Son say?” Benjeem huffed, irritated by the interruption.

“The Metatron has ordered for Heaven to prepare for combat. The minute you’re found, he plans on starting the War.” Aziraphale stumbled backwards. His eyes roaming everywhere, seeing everything yet nothing at all.

“So, if Aziraphale remains hidden, the War won’t start?”” Gabriel asked. Benjeem nodded confirmation. “Well, that should be easy.”

“Easy how?” Muriel asked. At some point, they had joined Eric among the bookshelves. The young demon still watching them all anxiously.

“As long as Aziraphale stays down in that hidden room, he should be safe.”

 

“He is not staying down there the entire time,” Crowley quickly argued. Gabriel rolled his eyes, shaking his head like Crowley was some child who needed to understand why certain things needed to happen.

“Why not? It masked him from Heaven before and it just helped us when Benjeem and those other angels came by. I mean, where else is he going to go that’s completely safe from Upstairs?”

“It’s also Hell you have to worry about.” Eric cut in, slowly making his way out from the darkness, but still hiding behind a corner. “They want the Supreme Archangel just as much as Heaven does.”

“Weren’t you here when I came in announcing that Barbatos took care of that?” Crowley asked.

“That’s only for a little while though,” Eric countered, “Shax doesn’t give up easily. She will be back the second she can. I, uh, also just received word that Satan’s just given the order for Crowley’s capture.” Crowley and Aziraphale’s eyes met. The former demon seethed, his teeth gritting before letting out a loud ‘fuck!’.

 

“Well,” Beelzebub chirped, zer hands linking behind zer back and bouncing on zer heels. “This just got a lot more difficult, didn’t it?” Crowley turned and paced. Beelzebub rolled zer eyes in exasperation, “Honestly don’t know why ye’re stressing over thiz.” The former turned on his heel and walked back towards his former boss. His head tipping side to side with each agitated word he spoke.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because we’re both now being hunted, Aziraphale still can’t use his bloody miracles, and the War he supposedly stopped was only halted! Oh, but what am I worrying about? That’s all nothing!” Beelzebub shook zer head and turned away from Crowley. Aziraphale stepped forward, smiling nervously, and cleared his throat.

“Well, how about this? Crowley and I will go back to where I was staying before I came here. That way, when Muriel and Benjeem are, inevitably, questioned, they won’t be lying or face any punishments. Eric could stay here and when he receives more news, he can call Crowley and deter any more snooping demons from the bookshop. Beelzebub, Gabriel, do you two plan on sticking around?”

“Well,” Gabriel looked to Beelzebub, “We only came to help return your memories. We did our part.” Beelzebub looked back at Crowley and then to Aziraphale.

“We’ll stick around a little longer. I don’t want to be any part of thiz, but I also want to stick it to that big-headed creep. Especially after what he tried to do to my angel.” Crowley exaggeratedly gagged. Benjeem, who stood quietly this entire time, covered his mouth to prevent himself from laughing. Aziraphale sighed at the silliness of it all.

“Alright then. Crowley, prepare to leave posthaste!”

Notes:

Just a little life update, so ya can skip this little note if ya want.

Ok! So, I'm currently moved in with a friend right now with my cats. It's been taking a bit to adjust (still am honestly), especially with my extra drive-time just to get to work. I finally got some motivation to start working on things after about a month of sleeping and working. This has not left my mind once that entire time- except when I got into another little obsession for a little bit. As much as I wanted to continue writing this chapter, I just didn't have anything. Anywho, I have the next chapter started and slowly getting back into the grind. I'm slowly being driven crazy by the lack of creative outlet.

So, that's where I've been this whole time after moving. I can't promise that I'll be posting more often after this cuz I know I won't. I will post when I can and, hopefully, find a rhythm between work and life again. Thank you again and I'll see you all in the next chapter. Have a good night/day 🩶

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 6 of Ineffable Yet Effable