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It's a mystery why Crowley still hasn't managed to get to sleep yet.
It's been days since Aziraphale left him, a couple of weeks, or maybe even some months who knows he's not good at keeping up with mortal time. The only thing he knows for sure is that he's gotten pissed drunk every day since. It was a cycle, a ritual even: at sunrise sobering up from the night spent drinking, then taking a walk around the park or in Soho or wherever he feels like walking that day, get depressed some more, yell at his plants, drink all afternoon, cry to his plants, repeat.
The thing is, he really can't stop thinking about the last day he spent with Aziraphale. He keeps going over and over every conversation, every word he said and how he said it and he can't for the life of him figure out what he did wrong, what the last straw was that brought Aziraphale to leave him. Crowley really wishes he could try again and again, relive the day and their last conversation until he finds the right words that would finally convince his angel to stay. It must be his fault after all. He should've been a better friend, or he should've been a better demon and keep the angel at a distance from the very beginning.
One day he gets the impulse to walk to the bookshop. He hadn't dared till that moment, knowing well enough that he wasn't ready to see the place again, especially after knowing that he couldn't stay living in there anymore since Aziraphale's departure. It's not the moment of the day scheduled for crying, so he pushes back the tears that begin to form in his eyes once he arrives in front of the door. It seems closed permanently from an outsider's perspective, but he knows that Muriel has been looking after the place since that dreadful day.
Crowley wonders for a brief moment if the neighbours think anything of Aziraphale's sudden disappearance or if they even noticed that he's gone. London is such a weird city after all.
While he's there on the sidewalk he hears a woman shouting something at him from the other side of the street and he sighs, knowing damn well who that voice belongs to. He mentally kicks himself for choosing to walk here.
Nina doesn't say anything when he walks up to her, she just smiles, a pitiful expression on her face, and opens the door of her café. Crowley groans and walks in, thanking someone that the place is somehow half empty on that particular morning.
"Oh dear, you look dreadful", Maggie comes out from behind the counter and sits in front of him, the same pitiful expression on her face as Nina. Crowley hates this, he hates being pitied, he hates when people fuss too much over him and most of all he hates feeling like a lost puppy looking for human company.
"Yeah, well" it's all he manages to get out, before snapping his fingers and miracling the empty glass on the table into a full one of wine. He drinks it immediately and refills his glass before turning his attention back to the two women, currently both seated in front of him. Nina has her arm on the back of Maggie's chair and Crowley can't help but notice that she's caressing her shoulder blade if ever so slightly. He sighs and drowns the second glass.
"Will you stop with all this nonsense for a minute", Nina takes his glass away and sits back again, clearly waiting for an answer of some sort. "Why am I even here", he crosses his arms, determined to annoy them enough that they'll drop the subject before even beginning to ask.
"You can't go on like this my dear, you have to do something about this or at least talk about it with someone", Crowley flinches at the pet name. Maggie reminds him way too much of a certain someone who broke his heart into a billion tiny pieces and then left him without even saying a proper goodbye. It's painful to even watch her. "And who am I supposed to talk to? You? Yes, why not you were so helpful the last time", he spits out sarcastically and immediately regrets it, because he realises he's being very mean for no reason. But he's a demon after all, so he thinks he can be justified at least a little bit.
"She's not saying that it has to be us. She's just saying that you need to find a way to get your ass up from the ground and start to live again", Nina bites back at him with the same mocking tone he used before and suddenly he feels very tired.
"I don't talk to anyone because there's not a single being in this universe that could ever even remotely understand what it feels like to be left behind by the only person that ever cared for me in my very long existence", he hopes with all he has that they'll drop the topic after this. He feels like he's combusting from inside and he fears he could actually cause some trouble if he gets upset some more, like that time he conjured that big lightning and locked the two of them inside the bar. They really should thank him for that stunt by the way.
"Try us", Nina says trying to look into his eyes, well hidden behind his glasses. He hasn't been more than a few moments without them on since Aziraphale left him.
"He was the only friend I've ever had. I think I have loved him since I first laid my eyes on him in the Garden of Eden. I was fine with loving him from afar, because how could such a perfect creature love an old wretched serpent like me?", Crowley laughs bitterly, then miracles another glass full of wine and drinks it before opening his mouth again. "Anyway, my point is I love him and he doesn't. Or at least not in the same way I love him. He loves me like he loves, I don't know, books or ducks. Maybe a bit more but you get what I mean. I'm fine with that, really. I'm happy that he got what he wanted, I'll get over this sooner or later", he drinks again and sniffs, cursing himself for talking too much.
After listening to him the two women share a knowing look and then Maggie reaches across the table to grab one of his hands. He indulges her because frankly his day couldn't get more embarrassing and mortifying than it already is. "It's sad that you actually believe everything you said when it's crystal clear that Aziraphale loves you as much as you love him".
Crowley gets up abruptly as soon as she finishes the sentence. He suddenly feels like he can't stay there a second longer. "Thank you for your advice, it's been an amazingly cheerful day, sadly I really must get going", he turns around and begins walking towards the exit, but while he's storming out and closing the door he manages to hear Nina shout "you know she's right".
Crowley really doesn't want to think about that last bit of conversation for the rest of his miserable life, but that little voice in his head keeps repeating it over and over again like a broken record.
He walks around the corner and ends up in the street behind the bookshop, then keeps walking around the whole block until he's finally in front of his destination. It's sort of a backdoor for the bookshop, miracled by Aziraphale years before after the incident with Mr. Shadwell and the whole discorporation business. It wasn't really a door connected to the building, but the miracle made sure that whoever entered it and knew about its nature stepped into one of the storage rooms of the bookshop. Otherwise, if you didn't know about the miracle, the door simply locked itself.
Crowley opens it and steps into the less used space in the whole apartment, a dusty old room with a leather sofa straight from the 1980s and a wooden half empty bookshelf. He knows that Muriel can't possibly know about this particular room because by the state of it even Aziraphale barely knew about it. Crowley smells the air and sighs, immediately recognising the scent of old paper and a bit of angelic grace. He feels himself tear up again.
"Eternal slumber here I come", he mumbles to himself while hopping on the sofa, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He forcefully closes his eyes and lets himself be lulled by that familiar old smell.
— ○ —
There were a lot of dull days in the beginning. Just floating around, lots of paperwork of all sorts. He didn't even know what dull meant back then.
Aziraphale began to experience the feeling of dullness when he first realised that he felt differently than normally when he did something he liked. For example while he was listening to classical music or eating his favourite type of cake. Specifically, that feeling of uneasiness disappeared completely when he started to regularly meet up with Crowley.
Of course there was a ton of denial on his side, especially in the very beginning, but also in the past few years. However, Aziraphale realised that the dullness and emptiness of all his days on Earth (two feelings that as an angel he should've never even have experienced in the first place) were nothing compared to the dread he felt every second he's been spending in Heaven since he became Supreme Archangel.
He feels scrutinised all the time and he knows damn well that only because he got a promotion and he's formally the boss it doesn't mean that the angels actually respect him. He goes about his days, if one can even call them days at this point, signing papers, supervising other angel's duties and holding meetings of the council. Apparently something big is coming, maybe another Apocalypse of some sort. He doesn't know for sure for now, but he intends to find out one way or another. He is the Supreme Archangel now after all.
At some point Aziraphale realises that the only thing that's been keeping him company since he left his beloved bookshop is the low but steady chest pain that he's been feeling since Crowley kissed him goodbye. That painful heat, situated in the middle of his ribcage, has been keeping him going since it appeared when he had to say goodbye to the only friend he ever had and the only one he ever loved.
The pain keeps everything in place: every thought in his mind feels sharper and it's a constant reminder of what he could've had if he hadn't been such a coward for thousands of years. It also reminds him that yes, Crowley really did kiss him, even though not in the way he dreamed it would happen.
He still hasn't cried, because frankly he hasn't had a moment for himself since he came back in the Up. To him time feels different in Heaven, like it's too stretched out. He feels like he's always on the edge waiting for a sunset that can never come, because up there the lights are constantly on and the colour white is too blinding to even think about anything else that isn't daytime. It's exhausting, even if he knows that angels shouldn't feel tired or sad or in love or heartbroken or anything at all.
Aziraphale can't help but think that he's never been a good angel because he feels way too much about everything, especially a certain demon whose heart he has recently broken.
Aziraphale had a lot of feelings about that last day on Earth. First came betrayal, because how could Crowley not get what his offer was about? How could he refuse him without even thinking about it? Then some time after taking that elevator, probably a couple of days, came understanding. He finally understood why Crowley, his beloved demon, being the perfectly stubborn and proud creature that he was, simply had to say no. After that, the only feeling that was left in him was profound grief and infinite sadness.
He kept reliving the conversation in his head, wondering what would've happened if he had just let Crowley speak first. Maybe he would've told the Metatron to go screw himself, or maybe it would've led to more despair. Aziraphale can't know for sure, but he surely can keep thinking about Crowley's lips on his mouth. He's haunted by that lingering sensation even after all the time that has passed. Aziraphale roughly counts that it's been about a month or so. Maybe a bit more.
He can't exactly pinpoint the moment where something actually shifts in the air but one day, in the middle of another inspection, he can suddenly feel it in his guts that the next council meeting will be about something very important. Turns out that he wasn't entirely right, but also not wrong. The Metatron says something about trying out an old plan with a new twist and Aziraphale starts to actively listen. He mentions that someone is coming very soon, apparently from God Herself, to help Heaven win the next Holy War or some nonsense like that. Then he also mentions how the Earth embassy, or former bookshop, is being kept on the low for now due to the events linked to the disappearance of Gabriel.
"We have no other items to discuss, since the whereabouts of the demon Shax are still unknown and the demon Crowley has been off our radars for quite some time now", the Metatron gets up and declares the council dismissed, but Aziraphale stays still like he's frozen on his chair. He clearly remembers the very human experience of heart skipping a few beats because that's exactly what happened to him the moment he heard Crowley's name.
"Ehm, sorry, but what do you mean with off our radars?", he clears his throat, not yet accustomed to having all the angels' attention on him all the time. "He means", Michael cuts in immediately, "that we don't know where he is and if he still is". Aziraphale swallows slowly. "And with all due respect, we don't even care", Uriel smiles cruelly and someone coughs up a laugh that dies out immediately. Aziraphale smiles politely and nods, getting up from his chair and going as far away from that table as one could possibly go in an infinite divine open space attic. He breathes deeply a couple of times to try and calm himself. Crowley can't be gone, he can feel it in his bones that he's not done something that stupid. He hasn't gone back to Hell for sure, because he would've heard about it by now. So where could he possibly be?
He turns around and screams at the sight of Michael and Uriel in front of him. "Gentlemen, how can I help you?", he tries to be polite. Aziraphale loves being polite, it's one of the few things that still make him feel like a true angelic being even after all the time that he has spent on Earth.
"Do you think we're that stupid?", Uriel talks first, always ready to start some sort of fight with him. Aziraphale knows that they never liked him, not even before the First War. "I really don't know what you're referring to", he lies, an ability that he managed to master after thousands of years of being secretly in love with his demon best friend.
"The Metatron wouldn't like it if he knew what you're planning to do. Maybe he'd finally realise how pathetic you are and how wrong he was to appoint you as Supreme Archangel", Michael had always known how to hurt him when they wanted to. It happened very often since the beginning of his assignment on Earth. Aziraphale was tired of being stepped on.
"May I remind you that I'm the one in charge here, whether you like it or not. So I suggest you stay in your places and mind your business, thank you very much. You wouldn't like to see me pissed", Aziraphale has also mastered the art of intimidation. He's not sure when, but he thinks that it probably came from all the times he had to convince a potential customer to leave the bookshop without actually buying anything without using too many miracles.
After that, Michael and Uriel actually drop the subject and walk away, not without side eyeing and scoffing at him first. Aziraphale smiles to himself. He's determined to do whatever it takes to find his demon, even if it means getting demoted or permanently banished from Heaven. He also has to figure out a plan to counter Heaven's plan for the second Apocalypse.
Aziraphale thinks that maybe, once he finds Crowley they could figure it out together, like the good old times. He also hopes to get another kiss. Or a hundred more.
Aziraphale walks to a quieter place while thinking, visualising the bookshop in his mind and mentally preparing himself for the journey. The only thing he knows for sure is that if Crowley disappeared, that's the only place on Earth in which he could possibly be.
Aziraphale ends up right where he expected to in the middle of the Holy Circle inscribed on the floor of the bookshop. He takes a deep breath and smiles, immediately recognising the familiar smell of dust and old books. The sudden realisation of how much he missed the place hits him like a slap in the face and he tears up a little.
He walks around the building and he notices with much pleasure that nothing changed at all since he left. Aziraphale then walks towards the backrooms of the bookshop. All the doors are open except one so he makes a mental note of checking if he left it locked for some reason. His memory is not as sharp as he'd like it to be and on top of that, he was never actually that good at housekeeping. Crowley has always been better than him at that and a lot of other things.
He looks inside the open doors and while one room is how he vaguely remembers it being before he left (full of books, dust and spiderwebs), the other one is full of potted plants that he doesn't remember ever even having. Then something clicks inside his brain: they're Crowley's plants. He must have brought them here once he left. He walks in and takes a look around, smiling as he caresses a big bright-green leaf. "I was sure he'd still take care of you all", he murmurs to himself still looking around the room. Aziraphale leaves the room half closed for some reason, as if he doesn't want the plants to be disturbed any longer. He's always been inexplicably incredibly fond of them.
Aziraphale turns around and reaches for the handle of the last door, not really sure why it'd be the only one locked.
"Oh, darling", Aziraphale feels his face scrunch up in probably the softest expression he's ever had in his entire very long life. There on a leather sofa that he didn't even remember having he sees his beloved demon, sleeping peacefully with his lips slightly parted.
The angel slowly approaches the couch while his heart is threatening to jump out of his chest. He kneels in front of Crowley's face and he notices that while his face obviously hasn't changed at all, he has slightly longer hair. He realises that it has indeed been quite some time since he's left.
Aziraphalel can't resist caressing a strand of hair that is laying rebellious on the demon's forehead. He decides to get up and miracle a blanket to cover Crowley, knowing well that the demon suffers cold a lot more than he likes to admit and while he's doing that he doesn't notice that Crowley is actually awake and looking right at him.
— ○ —
Most people believe that demons don't ever dream because most people don't even know that demons can sleep at all. That would normally be true, but Crowley is no ordinary demon. He spent whole months of his life sleeping and one time he even slept through a particularly boring century.
He does dream sometimes, confusing stuff that would take too much effort to remember when he wakes up. This time, the dream is about memories of his life before the Fall. Nothing too specific, just a wonderful feeling of joy and calmness that he hasn't experienced since his days as an angel.
Unexpectedly something shifts while he's dreaming. All of a sudden he feels like the dream is becoming more real somehow, a weird sensation but pleasant nonetheless. Crowley feels the sudden and very annoying urge to open his eyes.
"You're here", Crowley lets out a breath he didn't even notice holding. Aziraphale is in front of him, just as shocked by seeing him awake as Crowley feels. "Why are you here", Crowley immediately puts on his glasses and sits up, trying so hard not to let any kind of emotions spill into his voice. Last time didn't go so well and he doesn't dare risking it again.
Aziraphale has an unreadable expression on his face, like he doesn't even know where to begin. Once he opens his mouth, Crowley immediately cuts him off, driven by a sudden surge of anger he hasn't felt in a very long time. "You know what? I don't even care. Just please, I beg of you, leave me alone because as you probably noticed I was actually trying to sleep for at least another millenia or so", he gets up and turns around, adjusting the pillows of the sofa just to keep his shaking hands occupied while he thinks about his next move.
"My dear, if you just let me explain-", Aziraphale takes half a step and touches him on the arm. Crowley hisses like he's been burnt and the angel immediately walks back, retreating his hands behind his body. "Don't my dear me, don't touch me, don't look at me. Just go. Why are you even here? You were so eager to go back and now you're here again so soon", Crowley's words have a bite that never came out with the angel before. He feels furious, like a trapped animal with nowhere to go. Aziraphale doesn't answer, he just stands there looking at him.
Crowley notices the celestial picture that he makes, with the bright light coming from the window behind him forming some sort of angelic aura all around him. He hates himself for the amount of love he feels for the angel. Crowley sits down on the sofa again, trying hard to collect himself and gather all his wits to end the conversation before embarrassing himself even more.
"I don't know why I got so mad all of a sudden, really. I'm just disappointed. After 6000 thousand years of not speaking, not making a single move and refusing me multiple times, all you could think of asking me was to change who I am to be with you", Crowley laughs, but it's a wet one because apparently he can't even control his tear ducts anymore. He covers his face with his hands and tries as hard as possible to stop the tears.
Then, Crowley feels Aziraphale coming closer and he doesn't really have the strength to push him away when he feels his warm hands on his, uncovering his face and taking away his sunglasses. Crowley has never felt more naked in his whole life than in this moment, looking at the angel kneeling in front of him while holding both his hands. "My dear, you really do not get it, do you", Aziraphale looks him in the eyes and smiles.
Crowley notices two things: the first one is that Aziraphale is crying, and the second thing is that his eye colour has changed from blue to a soft lavender due to his Supreme Archangel status. Crowley doesn't answer, he just looks and looks and looks into those strange new eyes for seconds that feel like hours or days even. "Will you listen to me for a moment?", Aziraphale asks with all the calm and patience in the world. Crowley just nods, too distracted by those impossible eyes to rebel against that request.
"All I ever wanted was for Heaven to be good enough for you again. I am deeply sorry for how our last conversation went, because I couldn't manage to make myself clear enough not to be misunderstood. I don't want you to change, I want you to always be you", Aziraphale gets up without letting go of his hands and sits beside him on the couch. "You're perfect as you are, my dear boy and I hate the fact that I somehow made you feel anything less than that. I wanted to change Heaven to make it a suitable place for you and I hoped, maybe a bit naively, that you'd be happy to help me with that. However, these past few months I understood the reason behind your decision to stay here and I admire you for that", Aziraphale smiles again, a smile so full of kindness that Crowley feels warm all of a sudden. "I love you, my dear. I wish I had told you sooner so I could've had the time to tell it to you a million times more", Crowley makes a sound like he's been punched in the guts and Aziraphale smiles some more.
"You love me", Crowley repeats the words out loud, just to be sure that he hasn't misunderstood. "Of course I do. How could it be any different?", Aziraphale squeezes his hands even more and his smile gets more reassuring. He's clearly projecting some kind of angelic stuff onto him because Crowley can't explain the sudden feeling that blooms inside him upon hearing those words. He also feels his face burn.
"Now I can finally tell you that you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen", Aziraphale laughs to himself, relieved like he's let out the biggest secret he's ever had to keep. Crowley scoffs and then puts his forehead on the angel's shoulder, clearly trying to hide his burning face. Aziraphale is having none of it, so he immediately takes hold of his face with the palm of his hands and brings their foreheads together.
"So what now, you big old hopeless romantic?", Crowley is still processing the whole love confession thing so that's all he manages to say out loud. Inside he's obviously still screaming. "We will figure something out, my dear. I have a lot to tell you. Something is up in the Up, again", he sighs deeply and all the exhaustion he's been feeling the past months comes out just like that. "Well, I have a lot of free time, nothing to do for the next eternity or so", Crowley says flirtatiously, because apparently he's allowed to flirt with his angel now. "Wow, lucky me", Aziraphale flirts back right at him while smiling.
Crowley laughs and then chokes on it, tears threatening to spill out again. He hugs the angel tightly, grabbing the fabric of his jacket like a lifeline. "I missed you", Crowley manages to whisper it even if he'd have liked to say it more loudly, to let the whole world know how much he's capable of loving. However, he discovered that talking about his feelings is not his best skill, at least for now. "I missed you too, dear", the pet name has Crowley swallowing a sob, his throat burning like hellfire in the process. "Don't you ever leave me again", Crowley whispers loudly now, a little bit of anger spilling into his voice. It's like a wounded animal's anger, not really directed at the one trying to help but rather at the cruel world that made it end up in that situation. "I promise that from now on we'll never be apart. To hell with Heaven and well, also to hell with Hell", Crowley notices that Aziraphale has a new glint in his eyes, like a newly found determination he's never had before.
"Now, let me explain what I've discovered about the new Great Plan", Aziraphale tries to get up but Crowley keeps him down on the sofa by pulling his hand. "I think you owe me something first", the demon flashes a smile and Aziraphale sighs.
"I don't think now's the right time for the Apology Dance and also I don't really believe I was wrong in the first place but if that's what you want", Crowley pinches the bridge of his nose. "What? It's true I wasn't actually wrong-", Crowley shuts him up with a kiss. Not a long one and not even a particularly passionate one, but he can feel the angel melt into the touch. "Oh, that's what you meant", Aziraphale lets out a breath while his lavender eyes are still locked on Crowley’s lips.
Crowley laughs a little, because he still can't believe that kissing his angel is a real thing that's happening to him. "Yeah, but the dance is a really great idea too", Crowley smiles again and Aziraphale scoffs and grabs him by the waist.
"I think the dance and Heaven's plan can wait another minute or two", the angel kisses him again and Crowley can't help but think that if it were for him, everything else that wasn't Aziraphale could wait for all eternity for all he cared.