Crowley X Aziraphale

Requested by the-writers-page

Have some tissues handy, this is a bumpy ride.

Bzzt.

Bzzzzt.

This fly had been causing Crowley issues all evening. He was sat in a large fancy red chair in an almost empty room, sulking. The demon had made his final attempt at encouraging Aziraphale to flee the Earth with him, and it came to another fail. So he took his anger out on his fellow demons, two of the Dukes of Hell, Hastur and Ligur. Now a fly had to taunt him.

He was too angered out to do anything to this pest. He just didn't have it in him to care about anything at the moment. And eventually the fly just buggered off.

"Don't bother my plants." This was the first thing Crowley had spoken since he told Aziraphale that he wouldn't even think of him when he left. It was directed at the fly.

A slow, tiring, and painfully agonizing hour passed before Crowley willed himself out of the chair. This was merely to gather a bottle of champagne. He would find himself right back in the chair to resume his sulking, only this time with something to make him a bit more numb. But just before he could get the bottle into his mouth, the phone began ringing. Naturally, he ignored it and got that alcohol into his system.

After the answering machine played Crowley's recording, a voice came from the phone. "We all know you're there, Crowley. The Prince is expecting you. I'd be swift."

"Oh, Hell..." Crowley muttered quietly into the bottle.

† † †

Beelzebub, Dagon, and a few other demons were in front of Crowley. "I'm only going to ask once. Where are my men?" Beelzebub asked with a very demanding tone.

"Oh, let's see," Crowley began before he would explain what it was he did. "I drenched one in holy water, and the other is stuck in cell phone world."

"So, the serpent thinks it's a game," Dagon said with a wicked grin that showed off her most disgusting teeth. Though she had no shame, versus Crowley who persistently wore sunglasses.

"I sent one of my spiezz up to your flat, after not hearing back from the two I originally sent," Beelzebub said, tilting their head with more annoyance in their tone as they said the second part. "Bazzoth, show Crowley what you found."

A male with short, messy black hair and shimmery green eyes stepped forward from behind Beelzebub, holding a small black box. He opened it to reveal a brilliant ring, a silver band adorned by the most beautiful of all diamonds.

"It appears our demon has found..love." Beelzebub nearly gagged at the word. It was an emotion that a demon didn't possess. It fell under the category of goodness.

"Call it what you will," the serpentine demon began, "it doesn't matter much to me."

Dagon had a harsh smirk on her face as she stepped in front of Crowley and removed his sunglasses. She then folded them and hung them right on his shirt. "Don't forget who you are," she began as she grabbed his shoulders and spun him around to make him face a mirror that she miracled into existence, "don't forget who you will always be; Crawly."

Crowley stared at the reflection of himself. But he didn't see what he looked like today. He saw what he looked like the day he met Aziraphale, his hair in long and forced curls, his black wings outstretched, his eyes purely yellow with the thin black pupil. The way he looked the day he began to let the goodness in himself show.

"Too good to be a demon, too wicked to be an angel." The words coming from Dagon pierced him deep, right in his heart. Right where he felt all the constant heartbreak.

You go too fast for me, Crowley.

There is no our side...it's over.

"I don't need you, angel..."

And the feeling is mutual, obviously.

"Get him out of here!" Beelzebub demanded. Dagon then followed the order, pushing Crowley right through the mirror. Crowley was kicked out of Hell through a back exit, and he was left without the ring.

Crowley had no idea what time it was, but he really didn't care. He'd come out through his bathroom mirror and was left on the floor. He had no willpower to get up, to go anywhere, to do anything, not even to feel.

He'd even forgotten that Armageddon was still going to happen, and there was really no stopping it. If it weren't for the voice he heard at the foyer of his flat, it would have stayed out of mind until the world around him went up in flame.

"Crowley?"

It was Aziraphale.

Crowley made no reply, no sort of recognition, so the calling continued.

"Crowley, are you here?"

Eventually Aziraphale found his way to the bathroom, shocked by the sight of Crowley sitting on the floor lazily without his glasses on.

"Crowley! Why are you-" the angel huffed. So many questions. "I've been calling you," he then let out, taking an awkward step into the bathroom.

"Mm," Crowley acknowledged, staring straight ahead. He had no reason to look up at the angel.

Aziraphale was growing more uncomfortable, feeling out of place. "We don't have much time before the horsemen ride," he tried to remind Crowley of what they were working for.

Crowley made no form of reply.

Distress was begining to show on Aziraphale's face. Armageddon was in mere hours and Crowley was acting so different. Then he noticed it. "Crowley, why aren't you wearing your glasses?"

Crowley merely shrugged. He had no reason to wear them, and no reason to explain.

"Oh, dear..." Aziraphale had to look away momentarily. The consequence of his own actions was unfolding. He exhaled slowly before looking back down at Crowley. "I'm.. I haven't been fair to you, and I apologize."

Crowley still didn't say a thing. In fact, he shook his head.

"Crowley," Aziraphale said in shock, "why are you-?" He cut himself off after his voice broke. The distress on his face was very strong now. He just couldn't stay here in front of Crowley, so without any further word he left the bathroom.

By passing by the living room, he noticed the phone making a small red light flash. This meant that there were unanswered messages, though Aziraphale wasn't entirely sure. So he checked.

"We all know you're there, Crowley. The Prince is expecting you. I'd be swift."

The voice of a demon. Aziraphale knew it.

He cleared the message, then put the phone back where it was. Angry and confused, he went back to the bathroom. Before he could even think for himself on what he would do or say, he was already down on his knees beside Crowley.

"What did they say to you?" Aziraphale asked, very straightforward. There wasn't much awkwardness, hesitation, or any uncertainty. And Crowley could sense this.

"Too good to be a demon," Crowley began to reiterate what was said to him, "too wicked to be an angel..." His voice had already broken at the first part, by the time he hit this second part he was almost whispering.

Almost instantly there was a warmth that surrounded Crowley. It wrapped around him and began to close in on him, squeezing him tight. It was such a comforting warmth, something that shouted, "you are not alone."

In alarm, Crowley looked up from the floor to the angel. He saw such a calm smile on his face, it almost disturbed him. He had a bit of confusion on his face, but both of them knew that Crowley knew exactly what it was.

Before Crowley could do anything, Aziraphale had him directly in his arms. The demon sunk right in, pressing his face against the other's chest, his hands gripping the other's sides. The angel protectively had an arm wrapped around the demon's head, the other snaked around his back.

"You know they're wrong," Aziraphale then said, his cheek pressed against the top of Crowley's skull. "You're not one or the other, you're just you, Crowley."

Crowley had nothing to say. He could still feel himself stuck in this emotionless pit of nothing. For every passing moment, Aziraphale continued saying the things that complimented Crowley for who he really was. It contradicted what would ever be said by Hell, and it all came from the mouth of an honest angel.

The soothing voice of the angel, plus his kind words were all enough to put Crowley right to sleep in the warmth of his arms. The angel mindlessly kept talking, helping the demon fall into a serene enough state to remain asleep.

Crowley began to stir however long later, covered with his warm blanket. He found that he was alone in his bed. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Angel?" He attempted to call, but it only came out as a very groggy mumble.

As his vision cleared, he noticed Aziraphale come into view in the doorway. The angel had a little suitcase at his feet, and his wings were exposed.

"Armageddon is about to happen," he informed the demon. "What do you say we run off together? Alpha Centauri."

Noticing the demon smile, even while so exhausted, only made him show a smile he might have tried to hide.

"I would love that, Angel."