UwU I've dranken so much lemonade.

Robin_Kid

♤♤♤

"Aziraphale?" Crowley called, for what seemed like the 15th time.

Crowley turned the same corner, his eyes growing tired of the same stacks of books and the same lonely feeling everytime he turned down an empty hallway. He couldn't find Aziraphale for the life of him, and it was starting to become worrisome.

He wouldn't have just left his shop open like this, would he?

"Not unless something bad happened," he mumbled, thinking aloud.

Just as Crowley turned another corner, he ran into someone, stumbling backwards as his glasses slid off his face.

"Sorry," he muttered, trying to hide his eyes while he picked his sunglasses back up.

The demon was about to place them back on the bridge of his nose when he was met with a familiar face. "Angel!"

Crowley rushed forward to hug Aziraphale, who gently patted his back.

"Where were you?" He hissed, suddenly remembering why he was there in the first place.

"I was buying..." He looked down. "P-Pornography..."

Crowley narrowed his eyes. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Er, yes?" Aziraphale smiled nervously.

"What's up with you?" The demon leaned forward, as if inspecting him.

"Nothing. I'm just tired. Brain is jumbled up," He waved Crowley off, sitting down on the sofa.

"So," Crowley said, tapping his fingers together. "Anything new from the little bitch up in heaven?"

"Who?" Aziraphale asked, looking almost annoyed.

"Cunt-face," said the other, leaning forward in his chair. "Dick wad. Gabriel."

"Ah," he smiled. The smile almost looked forced. "No, nothing new, dear."

Almost.

♤♤♤

It was around 9.00 when Crowley went to the kitchen to make tea. Aziraphale followed behind silently. Sure, he'd noticed the angel's strange behavior. He knew something had happened over his period of absence.

Sometimes, though, even demons are gullible.

♤♤♤

The real Aziraphale was in a quant little place called Tadsfield. He was having lunch with Anathema and Newt, a rare occasion.

"So, is this the first place you came to?" Anathema asked, sipping her cup of coffee.

"Oh, no," Aziraphale smiled. "First I went to France for some crépes, and then I went to florida. I went into this green building called puh-blixe, and I bought a box of sushi. It was wonderful. And after that, I went to Canada, and I drank some maple syrup, and it tasted like any other, really, but I suppose that's to be expe-"

"Pardon, Aziraphale, but when are you going home?" Newt interrupted, giving him an incredulous look.

"Ah," said the angel, folding his hands together. "Well, I don't know, exactly. Probably soon. I shouldn't leave Crowley all alone like that."

"Yeah, it'd put a strain on your relationship," Anathema chimed in.

"Well, I do think we're going to stay friends if I'm gone for a week."

"No, I meant he might think about breaking up with you," She said, pursing her lips.

"Break-up?" Aziraphale repeated, turning red. "No, we're not together."

"Seriously!?" She shot upwards, causing Newt to have a mini-heart attack.

"What?" He frowned. "There's nothing between us, I swear!"

"Nothing-Between-us my ass!" Said the witch, crossing her arms.

Aziraphale looked startled, glancing between Newt and Anathema nervously. "I beg your pardon?"

"I think what she's trying to say is you and Crowley obviously love eachother," he tried, gently pulling Anathema back to her seat.

"B-But there's no way... he couldn't..." Aziraphale stuttered, trying to piece it together. He thought of all the time they had spent together. Crowley's desperate attempts to try and tell him. "Oh no... it's so obvious."

"Damn right it's obvious," Anathema scowled. "You have to tell him."

"What!? No!"

"Why!?" Newt and Ana said in unison.

"Because! I'm an angel, he's a demon," Aziraphale explained.

"That never stopped you before," Newt said.

"Yes, well..."

"Do you want to tell him?" The witch asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"...Yes," Aziraphale sighed.

"Then tell him," she shrugged. "It's simple."

"B-But Heaven-"

"I thought you were on your own side!" Anathema hissed.

"How did you know about that?" Aziraphale asked.

"Crowley talks about it every. Five. Fucking. Minutes. He's so proud of it," Newt said, clenching his fists. "It's the only thing that annoys me."

"You seem... oddly annoyed by it..." Aziraphale said quietly.

"It's a problem," Anathem whispered. Then, louder, "You need to go back home, Aziraphale. You have to tell him."

"I-I know," sighed the angel.

"Nervous?"

"Yes," he said, ashamed.

"Don't be. You know he feels the same. There's nothing to worry about," Anathema smiled warmly, reaching to pat his shoulder. "You got this."

"Thank you. I can't ever repay you," Aziraphale smiled, standing up.

"No need."

And then he was gone. Where? Well, you're about to find out.

♤♤♤

Crowley was walking back from the kettle, which was now start to heat up. He preferred the pot. He liked when it steamed.

'Aziraphale' had found the record player. There was a nice piece playing, perfect for a dance. Crowley hadn't drunk anything, a bottle of wine sat untouched on the table in front of him.

Aziraphale stood, and held his hand out to Crowley, as if he was asking for a dance.

♤♤♤

The actual Aziraphale first appeared at Crowley's flat. He searched everywhere for him. Even in the plant room.

When the door opened, the plants started shaking. Aziraphale wondered through, patting a leaf here and there, smiling at each and every one of them.

The blankets on Crowley's bed were... kind of neat on his bed. Aziraphale clapped his hands, and the bed was made, the floor was clean, and the room smelled like...chamomile.

He left Crowley's flat, realizing he wasn't there, and decided to look in his bookshop. Perhaps he was waiting there.

♤♤♤

Crowley took his hand almost immediately, thinking it was Aziraphale. It felt like Aziraphale. It smelled like him. It looked like him.

But it was not him. Don't blame Crowley for being stupid. No, he was just being himself, for once, a gullible demon. Not the cool one who doesn't care about anyone. He was dumb of ass. He looked into the kitchen, at the kettle. Almost ready.

Aziraphale released one of Crowley's hands, not that he paid any mind to it. He was just in the moment. With the wrong angel.

Crowley yelled in pain when the familiar burn of a holy blade ripped through his chest. Aziraphale was glaring, but smiling up at him as he pushed the manifested blade deep into his flesh, just below his ribcage.

Blood streamed out of his mouth as the blade was yanked out of the wound. But he couldn't feel the wound yet. All he could feel was betrayal.

♤♤♤

Aziraphale heard Crowley's cry of pain. He rushed inside his bookshop, only to be met by himself. The doppelganger stopped dead in his tracks, grinning.

Slowly, Aziraphale watched the skin change on the other him. It melted off to reveal someone he knew. Someone he thought wouldn't bother him again.

It was Gabriel. Aziraphale's eyes widened as he put the pieces together for the second time today. The archangel disappeared with a pop, and Aziraphale ran to the back room.

Crowley was lying on the floor in a large pool of blood, coughing. There was a hole in his shirt. It showed a gash in his lower chest, which looked unbearably painful.

Aziraphale rushed to Crowley's side, pulling off his glasses. In the dim yellow of his eyes, there was heartbreak. Fear. Betrayal.

"It wasn't me," Aziraphale whispered, tears streaking down his face. "It wasn't me..."

Crowley understood. He smiled weakly at Aziraphale. "A-Angel."

"Yes?"

"Hol...Holy b-blade," he sputtered, more blood gushing from his mouth and nose.

Aziraphale knew what that meant. It was incurable by miracle, and it would kill his entire being. Not just the vessel. Why would he be lying on the floor if it was?

Then he remembered something important. "I love you, C-Crowley, you... you can't die."

The demon smiled, blinking slowly. He opened his mouth, taking in a deep and ragged breath. "I... l-love you, t-too."

His eyes dulled even more, and his body sort of went limp. He blinked a few more times, and then, he took his last breath. Both on earth and in hell.

And, in the midst of it all, the tea pot whistled.

♤♤♤

AHHH TY FOR READING

angst is the best amirite