Good Omens One Shots 1

Dream 8

"You don't have a side anymore." The words echoed in the angel's head as he stumbled after the groggy demon up into his flat. Today had been beyond exhausting, for both of them. Stopping the end of the world was not as easy as Aziraphale would have hoped, and yet they did it. Or well... Adam did it.

Crowley threw open the cement looking door and sauntered in unsteadily. Aziraphale was worried for him, the demon was not looking well at all. He was all pale and shaky and looking like he was about to collapse at any moment. Aziraphale just hoped he was within range when he did.

"Crowley..." Aziraphale called out, the last prophecy clenched between his fingers. The last clue, their last hurrah, their last hope.

The demon turned halfway to meet the angel's eyes, he had discarded his sunglasses already. "Yessss?"

"I- I..." Aziraphale wasn't sure what he wanted to say. There was so much left unsaid between them, so much he wanted to get off his chest. What if this was it? What if this was the end? What if there would be no tomorrow, not for them.

The angel began to shake.

Crowley heaved a heavy sigh and approached slightly, "Come on angel. We're in no fit state of mind to be doing anymore thinking. Come sleep."

"I don't sleep." Aziraphale said automatically. He hadn't slept since their fight over holy water, was adamant about it.

"I know," Crowley said softly, almost sadly, "I know. Just rest, you don't have to sleep but relax, read a book, recharge. We've been through a lot, we still have time before this next prophecy comes into play. Try to forget about it for now."

How was Aziraphale supposed to forget about it? It was their lives at stake. Their bosses would come for their heads, he just knew it. But... Crowley was right. He needed rest, it would be no use worrying over it in this state of mind. But that was easier said than done.

Crowley led him through the flat, to a large empty room with the exception of a very large bed, dark silk sheets. Aziraphale's breath hitched at the sight, it looked so much like the one in his dreams -- when he used to dream. His heart ached at how he left things with dream-Crowley. How his subconscious had ruined a perfectly good form of escapism.

There was a snap of fingers and a chair and some of Aziraphale's favorite books along with a pair of light colored pajamas appeared.

"Here," Crowley gestured, "You can change if you want, can either sit or join me in bed -- it's plenty big enough. Or you can go anywhere else you'd like."

Aziraphale nodded, eyes glazing over as a complicated set of emotions rocked through him like a wave. Crowley grumbled something else and tucked himself into bed -- miracling on some pajamas.

The angel slowly undressed, trying not to fall too deep into despair at their current predicament, trying to focus on how the clothes felt coming off his body and the new ones coming on. The pajama's were exceedingly comfortable. Which one would guess being provided by a demon. Speaking of which, Crowley had already started snoring slightly, huddled up at the edge of the bed.

Once Aziraphale had changed he decided that on the bed would be the better option to rest, less creepy. Getting between the sheets gave him a strange sense of déjà vu, but he did his best to ignore it. Happy thoughts, good thoughts, don't think about the end of the world or of heaven's fury. Don't think.

The angel focused on his breathing, trying to match it with the dozing demon's. Glancing over, he saw that stock of red hair being smushed into the pillow. How he wished he could touch it. How he once was able to in a dream.

Now that he thought about it, maybe he should go to sleep. If this was his last night on earth, he wouldn't want to live without any regrets. And how he might not ever be able to dream again, not ever see dream-Crowley tending his dream-garden. Lord knew how much he missed him, but he had grown past that. It turns out that real-Crowley was just as good, even better than dream-Crowley. Real-Crowley was consistent and always there when Aziraphale needed him. Dream-Crowley was just a dream. But that didn't make the angel any less sad.

Aziraphale chewed at his bottom lip in contemplation. He hadn't fallen asleep in ages, what if he had forgotten how to? What if dream-Crowley wasn't there? What if he was still angry with him, still yelling at him? Could Aziraphale handle that on his last night on earth?

He gulped, resolution clear in his heart. Yes. He could handle the beratement, as long as he was able to see Crowley alive and animated, in case he never saw him again in any form.

The angel's eyes fluttered close and with a long exhale, he fell asleep.

Aziraphale was expecting black sheets when he awoke, but no, they were tartan. There was a figure laying next to him, red hair strewn about in long curls, a pale figure curled up in pale green pajamas. Crowley.

Slowly, the demon rolled over to face the angel, a sad smile dancing across his face, "Hi angel."

"Crowley..." Aziraphale smiled shakily back, it was so good to see him. It had been much too long since he had been here. "A- are you still angry with me?"

Crowley shook his head, inching forward, closer to the angel, "No. I haven't been for a while. I... I'm so glad you're here."

Aziraphale heaved a shaky sigh and reached out, finding himself not a second later entangled into a tight embrace, "You know what's happening out there, don't you."

The demon ducked his head into the angel's shoulder and nodded.

"I- I..." Aziraphale stammered out.

"Hush, there's no need to talk about it now." Crowley said softly, "I'm the distraction, don't think about what's to come. Just enjoy this."

Aziraphale blinked back tears and brought a hand up to the demon's red locks. How he did enjoy this. He missed this. How had he ever given this up? He held the demon tighter as tears started to fall.

"I love you," the angel whispered, pressing a kiss onto the top of Crowley's head. The demon's body shuddered against him and he tightened his hold. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"You're not going to die angel," Crowley choked out, "I would never let that happen."

The angel squeezed his eyes shut as a sob threatened to surface, "I know you wouldn't dear and neither would he but..." he swallowed, "the odds aren't entirely in our favor."

"We'll come up with something, we always do." Crowley said, hand coming up to cradle the back of the angel's head, pulling him closer.

This is what Aziraphale needed, all he had ever needed. The damn within him broke and his emotions came tearing out of him. He had only ever just wanted someone to say that it would be okay. That things were going to turn out alright. That he was doing the right thing.

"Let it out, angel. Let it out."

Sobs racked his body as he clutched at his favorite demon. His most beloved. He wished this wasn't the end of the world, he wished that he had more time. He wished he had the courage to tell real-Crowley his feelings. But he couldn't. Dream-Crowley would just have to do.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," Aziraphale gasped out as he felt the lure of consciousness drag him back to the real world. He didn't want to leave, he wanted to lay there forever besides Crowley.

The demon in his arms body began to shimmer and waver, going translucent.

"No." Aziraphale whimpered, he knew that meant Crowley was going to leave him. He was going to leave and Aziraphale didn't know when he would be back.

"Wake up angel," Crowley whispered.

Aziraphale screamed as the demon faded away completely.