~ In Case Forever Ends Tomorrow ~ A Good Omens Fanfic

2 - Fallen Angel

~ Crowley's Perspective ~

Present Day.

Crowley was in a bad mood. He hated just about everything at that moment. In the last week, he had saved the world alongside his best friend. And... Other people, most of whom he's forgotten the names of. There was the Antichrist... Crowley forgot his name. And then there was the witch hunter, the girl he hit with his car...

He could have cared less who they were.

No matter what Aziraphale said, he was wrong. Very, very wrong. Heaven and Hell would have their war. Beelzebub and Gabriel would not stand to lose. They might be left alone for the next few days, in order for the two sides to regroup, but after that...

Crowley didn't know.

Maybe it was time to pay Hell a visit. He swung his feet forward, swinging himself up and off of his throne-like chair. He never sat up straight, and never cared enough to try. The dark walls of his flat looked like the boiling pools of sulfur they had in Hell at night. Crowley liked it. It reminded him daily of how he'd Fallen.

"Stupid," He muttered to himself as he put on his sunglasses, "It's all stupid."

He had never intended to Fall. He always tried to find ways to push away hellish thoughts and bad intentions.

Why?

Because somewhere, deep down, Crowley still hoped to be an angel again. He knew it was impossible. You don't come back from what he'd gone through. But some stupid part of him still wanted to try. Not for himself, he didn't want to do anything for himself. He didn't even want to live for himself.

But he did for Aziraphale.

"STUPID." He hissed, louder than before. Feelings were stupid and so was Hell. And Heaven. EVERYTHING was STUPID. All he wanted to do was curl as a snake and sleep for another century.

Yes, another century. He'd slept through the tenth century because he hadn't felt like dealing with anything. And guess what? It had worked.

Then, there were times where we wanted to spread his wings out and fly to the stars, then give the whole universe the sight of his favourite finger. Especially God. God had done this to him. God had made him like this.

Crowley had created the stars, once upon a time. He had poured his heart and soul into each and every one of them, and they had always been his favourite things. He rolled his shoulders back, letting his wings appear. The feathers were dark and black, smooth and neatly kept. Sometimes he could have sworn there were speckles of light that actually looked like stars on them, but tonight there was nothing. Just black. He frowned at his wings, and folded them away from the world. He snatched his keys off the counter and stepped into the Bentley, running his hands over the wheel and grazing his tongue over his teeth. He stared straight ahead, and turned the keys into the slot, then stepped on the gas. He heard the screech of the tires as he sped away from his flat, pressing a button that clicked open a small pocket. Inside were... Decades of music. Cassettes and CDs... All of it. He took one CD from its case and slipped it into the player.

"Ohhh somebody! Somebody! Can anybody find me... somebody to love?" Crowley sang the lyrics as loud as he possibly could, not caring that his voice was horrific.

"Hellish, actually," he said to himself, proceeding to laugh at his own VERY bad pun. He continued to sing and sway in his war as he drove full speed down the empty roads, not a single car in sight at night time. He hit the breaks as he came upon a looming shadow of a building, and he stepped out of his car, fixing his slightly crooked sunglasses and staring straight ahead.