Good Omens Oneshots

♪2 •I Lost My Best Friend♪

Aziraphale X Crowley

Crowley was all alone. He'd just recently discovered his best friend's bookstore up in flames. He was long gone by then. Crowley was just as mentally gone. The last thing he cared about had just been at the top of his priority list when the day began: Armageddon was mere hours away.

"Y'know, I never asked to be a demon," Crowley slurred out, a nearly finished bottle of beer in his hand.

Halfway through his speech to only himself, tears started to visibly fall from behind his darkened glasses. "I lost my best friend..." He whispered, his mouth in the form of a frown. He stared at nothing ahead of him, exhaling shakily before downing the rest of his bottle.

He let out a quiet groan as he slammed the glass onto the table. "Forget this world.." he mumbled, a numbness now drenching his tone. He stood, gripping his glass once again. "Forget Earth!" He shouted, pulling his arm back before swinging it forward and launching his glass bottle into a wall right by a man's head.

The man turned around and glared at the demon, though he was unaware who he was facing was indeed a demon. Crowley only shrugged and shook his head at the man. He was your stereotypical biker. He was bald, a bandana on his head, adorned by a handlebar mustache, leather jacket, and dark jeans.

The man then stood and stomped towards Crowley, grabbing him by the shirt collar and pinning him against a wall. "Are you looking to pick a fight, scrawny boy?" The man asked the demon this, and the empty look that Crowley gave in return only showed that he must be begging for it. And he wouldn't fight back.

"I bet you fight like a girl," The biker proceeded taunting the redhead.

"Oh, just hit me already!" Crowley insisted, before mumbling, "don't drag this on longer than you have to." He was in every sense begging to be attacked. "Or is all this provocation the foreplay of your fighting?" The demon even turned to provocation of his own kind to provoke his opponent so he could be attacked (but enough explaining what the dialogue clearly tells you).

The biker (obviously) got mad with the demon, and used his right fist to throw a real good punch. Naturally, this man was expecting his opponent to hit back, or realize how weak he was and run away. But the demon did neither of these things. So he took another punch to the face while still pinned against the wall, his face already starting to look a bit bloody.

It was in this still moment that Crowley, his gaze right past his attacker, had a tear fall from behind his glasses. The biker found this amusing. "Are you gonna go home and cry to mommy?" He mocked with a grin. Everyone around them was chanting fight! fight! fight! But Crowley couldn't hear any of it.

All he could hear was the sound of his best friend's voice.

"Crowley," that familiar voice called, "are you insane?"

Crowley shook his head a little, his gaze remaining right past his attacker. "You're not real..."

Aziraphale clicked his tongue. "Don't be daft, dear, of course I'm real. Well my body isn't, but I-" the dream-like Angel jumped at the sight of Crowley's body being thrown to the bar floor.

The impact on the floor really brought Crowley back to reality. He could now hear a loud shouting in his ear, "WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME, FREAK?!" And while the demon could indeed hear everything once again, he still paid no mind to any of it.

"You're in my head, I..." Crowley proceeded with his quiet, weak response to Aziraphale's sudden reappearance that simply made no sense. "I lost you..."

"I have to-!" Aziraphale once again got cut off by Crowley being attacked, this time getting kicked in the side. "I-!" Another kick. "I can't quite explain with-!" Another kick. Aziraphale had to bounce around to evade the crowd, and the attacker, and still speak to the demon on the floor. Suddenly, he stomped his foot where he stood and gave up on explaining. "Crowley, why won't you fight back?"

Crowley hugged his stomach, laying on his side on the ground. "I lost my best friend," he groaned out, "I haven't got much reason to stay on Earth."

Aziraphale gritted his teeth in an empathetic pain as he watched Crowley spit out some blood. "Oh, dear..." And with that, he faded out and disappeared.

"That'll teach you not to mess with the wrong men, freak," The biker spat at the demon before stomping away.

Crowley remained on his side on the ground, not moving. He felt no reason to move. But this only lasted if even 5 seconds before a grotesque, zombie-like hand reached through the floor, grabbing the demon's ankle and pulling his entire body through the floor. The biker had seen this from where he had seated himself, and he stared at the spot in shock. "What the hell..?"

Crowley now found himself in a familiar setting, standing in front of Hastur and Beelzebub. "We caught word of a suicidal demon," Beelzebub stated, sounding quite annoyed with the fact she just stated.

As the leader of Hell's forces continued to lecture Crowley on the fact that Armageddon was in a few short hours, he had caught a glimpse of his best friend, the Angel, only a few meters behind the two demons he stood in front of.

Aziraphale smiled a very small, innocent smile as he waved discreetly to Crowley, but his body language really showed how uncomfortable he was.

Crowley only smiled. Being suddenly pulled into Hell really sobered him up, so he wasn't so depressed and miserable anymore. He was thinking just a tad more rationally. His best friend was still alive.