~ In Case Forever Ends Tomorrow ~ A Good Omens Fanfic

16 - The War Bows To No One

~ Crowley's Perspective ~

Crowley was awake. He bit his lower lip to keep himself from crying, frustrated with how weak he was. Crying was weak. Demons weren't weak. Demons didn't cry.

I don't want to be a demon.

He sniffed and began to feel tears slide down his cheeks. He tried to hold them back, but in doing so, he cried more. He burst into sobs, not even sure why he was crying. Did normal people cry for no reason?

Shut up, Crowley, he thought, SHUT UP.

He didn't know what was going on, and he knew he was alone now. No more Beelzebub. They weren't there. No Aziraphale.

Aziraphale was dead.

He choked on his tears, beginning to shake. He was scared. He knew that.

"S-stop crying!" he exclaimed, standing up. The whole world was spinning, and he felt absolutely dreadful. He pulled on his hair, looking around desperately for his sunglasses. He finally spotted the dark shades, cracked in the corner by a fallen painting. He took a deep breath, trying and failing to calm himself down. He darted around his flat, not sure what he was looking for. His head hurt, and he tripped over absolutely nothing and was thrown onto the floor. He let out another sob, curling up on the ground.

"Oh, what would Beelzebub say? What would Aziraphale think of me?" he wondered, his voice cracking, "That I'm weak. And stupid."

He burst into tears. The demon wanted help, he wanted someone, anyone, to help him.

"H-help me," he whimpered, "S-someone..."

He felt as though all the air had been snuffed out of him. He couldn't breathe. He gasped for air, tears running down his face and dripping onto the floor. He clutched his chest, feeling his heart beating incredibly fast underneath his hand.

"H-help..."

He looked around, his gaze sliding to a table. He raised an eyebrow when he saw what was on top of it. A golden ring, shining in the sunlight.

He'd given that to Aziraphale.

He glanced towards his own pinky finger, moving around the black snake tendril of a ring on his own hand. He'd given the golden ring on the table to Aziraphale so they could match each other, like the humans did. Crowley didn't really know why they did that, but he knew that people who wore them loved each other.

What was the ring doing there now? Aziraphale was gone, how was his ring...?

Crowley's heart made the mistake of fluttering as he stood up and picked up the ring. He cursed quietly.

Why did he have to love the silly angel?! He was a demon! Why did he have to love at all?! If Aziraphale's ring was there... he'd been wearing it when he'd... when he'd... gone. The ring should have been completely destroyed.

...Which... meant the angel was still alive.

Crowley slipped the golden ring into his pocket and unfolded his jet black wings. Tears dried quickly on his face as he sprinted down the hallway and bolted down the stairs. When he reached outside, he shot into the air and flew over the buildings, scanning the ground for Aziraphale.

Like looking for a needle in a haystack. How the hell was he supposed to find one angel out of all of Heaven, Hell and Earth? Crowley, deep, deep down, was an optimist. Not exactly an optimist, but more of a demon who refused to give up.

Especially when it came to his angel.

"AZIRAPHALE!" he cried, "ANGEL, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

Crowley swooped down lower, trying to figure out where the angel could have gone.