~ Aziraphale's Perspective ~
Later that night...
After hours of talking, Aziraphale's eyelids had grown heavy. He'd been sitting one the other side of the same couch as Crowley.
"Crowley?" Aziraphale mumbled.
"Hm?" Came the demon's muffled response. Both of them were half asleep.
"Do... Do you trust me?" Aziraphale asked quietly, suddenly very awake. The whole night he'd been fighting off his guilt, convincing himself that this was the right thing to do. This was Heaven's will! It had to be done, and he'd been putting it off for six thousand years.
"Of course I trust you, Angel!" Crowley said sleepily, without hesitation. He closed his eyes, and turned towards Aziraphale, "You're an angel. You would never hurt anyone."
Aziraphale winced. Here he was, about to murder a demon who trusted him more than Aziraphale trusted God. This was a demon who'd been thrown out of Heaven for questioning God because he would never follow orders blindly. A demon who didn't trust Heaven's angel or Hell's demons. A demon who would fall asleep beside him without questions. A demon who trusted him completely.
Crowley had drifted off to sleep, and he had subconsciously moved closer to Aziraphale. He looked so peaceful, so... Un-demonic. His chest rose and fell slightly, his expression blank. His throat was completely exposed, and he was so unaware... He never believed Aziraphale would ever do this. The angel's hands trembled as he got up and walked over to his desk, reaching for the sword underneath. He sat back down on the couch, pointing the sword to Crowley's throat.
One movement. One, quick movement and he could go back to Heaven. He could have his old life back. There would be no war, and humanity and earth would be safe. All he had to do was use the sword to... to... kill Crowley.
He's evil, Aziraphale tried to convince himself, he is a demon, after all. It's my job to kill him. It's for the greater good.
He sounded like Gabriel. The greater good. Those words had always been Aziraphale's least favourite.
He's evil! Aziraphale's thoughts tried to tell him. But the angel didn't believe that for a heartbeat. Not when he looked down at the sleeping demon, his legs tucked into his chest and his sunglasses removed for the first time in a while.
"I can't," Aziraphale whimpered, "I can't..." He couldn't stop his hands from shaking as he held the flickering orange blade.
He couldn't kill Crowley. Not as he thought about everything the demon had done for him. All the small, unnoticeable things, and the bigger ones. The truth was that Aziraphale just couldn't kill someone he'd known for so long. They'd... They'd even become... Friends.
"Lord..." Aziraphale whispered, tears sliding down his cheeks, "Please don't make me do this. I can't... I can't do it."
The angel knew the Almighty would not answer his prayers. What he was asking was too much. He'd broken so many rules by loving Crowley.
"Please, Lord - I love him. I can't kill him," Aziraphale squeezed his eyes shut, unable to stop himself from crying. He'd just admitted, out loud, that he loved Crowley.
I'm in love with a demon.
"Crowley," He begged, "Wake up, please,"
Aziraphale ran fingers over the sleeping demon's forehead and through his fiery red hair. The angel wrapped his arms around Crowley, hugging him tightly.
"... Crowley, wake up," He tried again.
"...Huh... Angel?" He asked, blinking awake and meeting Aziraphale's tearstained gaze.
"Oh, Angel," He whispered. His gaze flicked over to the sword that was posed to kill him. His eyes turned dark, the black slits in the yellow getting thinner.
"I'm sorry," Aziraphale sobbed, "I'm so, so sorry... I can't kill you, I don't want to hurt you..."
"You were going to kill me." Crowley said coldly, "While I was asleep. After you asked me if I trusted you. After you knew I would never question you."
"Crowley... I'm so sorry," The angel repeated the words over, and over, as if it would somehow make things better, "They promised me my old life back. They promised there would be no war!"
"Okay, okay," Crowley said soothingly, his cold eyes softening, "It's okay, you're okay, I'm okay, everything will be okay.... Just... Just give me the sword," He said, holding his hand out slowly. Aziraphale stared at it, knowing if he gave the demon the sword, all his chances would be lost. Crowley was probably just tempting him, manipulating him... Aziraphale didn't have the energy or the heart to say otherwise. So he handed the sword to Crowley.
"... Okay, good... it's okay, Angel, it's okay. Please stop crying,"
"They said the war would never come if I..."
"They lied, Angel. They lied."
"How could Heaven lie?" Aziraphale asked, his voice cracking, "You're supposed to be the one lying!"
"I'm not lying to you, Angel. Would I lie to you?" He asked, and Aziraphale recalled him asking the very same question before they saved the world.
"I don't know," Aziraphale admitted.
"Please don't ever think that," Crowley begged, "Don't ever think that. Aziraphale, listen to me. I would never, ever think of lying to you."
"I lied to you," Aziraphale cried quietly, "I lied to your face the whole day and I'm supposed to be an angel! I'm not a good angel... I'm not a good anything."
Crowley looked at Aziraphale, his eyes filled with sadness.
"You're my best friend. You're good at that - no, you're the best at that."
Crowley smiled at Aziraphale, whose eyes widened as the demon hugged him. Crowley stayed there for a while, and Aziraphale hugged him back.
The angel wanted to tell Crowley that he loved him. He wanted to whisper the words so only he could hear, over and over, until the demon felt loved. But Aziraphale could not love him. It would cause a war.
It would hurt Crowley.
Please, God... Please don't let the war hurt him, Please keep him safe. I'm sorry I've failed you. I couldn't kill him. I'm sorry...
Aziraphale knew his prayers would go unanswered. But to him, it was still worth a shot. Anything was worth trying if it was for Crowley.
Aziraphale nestled himself into Crowley's chest, promising himself it was just this once. Promising Heaven and Hell that it would never happen again. An angel and a demon could not be together. They couldn't be in love, and they could not be friends.
One last time, Aziraphale prayed, I just want to make him smile one last time.
"Thank you, Crowley," Aziraphale whispered, "Thank you so, so much."
"Can we go to sleep now?" Crowley asked, "You know, so long as I'm not going to wake up with a sword in my back?"
Aziraphale knew he meant to be funny, but the angel was in no mood to laugh. He simply leaned against Crowley's shoulder, feeling safe and protected under the demon's watch. Crowley brushed his hand over Aziraphale's by accident. He didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he made no comment. He just sat there with the angel, the look in his yellow eyes telling him that that the demon would sit awake for as long as Aziraphale needed him to.
"I promise I will never hurt you," Aziraphale told Crowley, his lip quivering.
"I know you won't," Crowley said, making the words sound both light and heavy at the same time, "I trust you, Angel."
Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's hand and closed his eyes. Crowley did not pull away, but his hand shook ever so slightly. Aziraphale knew that Crowley had never had affection of any sorts down in Hell. It was the same in Heaven. Everyone always assumed everything was all light and fluffy up there, but Crowley was right. Heaven was no better than Hell if they were planning a war.
Aziraphale drifted slowly off to sleep, despite all the worries that clouded his head. If Crowley could sleep like a baby after nearly being murdered in his sleep, then Aziraphale could take a three hour nap. The angel knew that Heaven would be furious with him, and would probably try to kill them both... But so long as they had each other... Aziraphale knew everything would be alright, just like Crowley had said.
"I trust you, Angel."
~ Crowley's Perspective ~
The next morning, Crowley hadn't stuck around the bookshop very long. He'd grabbed his keys almost immediately after waking up, leaving the angel fast asleep on the couch. He grabbed a piece of paper and quickly scribbled down a note. Crowley's handwriting was also awful, along with artistic skills of any sorts, but this would do. It was readable, at least.
Angel, I've gone home. If you need me just call. See you soon.
It didn't say much, but... Oh well. Crowley was leaving early for... Well, reasons. He wasn't afraid Aziraphale would change his mind. It wasn't the angel he was afraid of. It was more like he was afraid of Heaven and Hell would do to them once they found out Aziraphale hadn't completed his task. Those lying Bastards had told his Angel they would stop the war. Crowley snorted. How dare they lie to Aziraphale like that? He was innocent - it wasn't a crime to question orders!
Oh, wait, it was, apparently, considering that was the very thing that had gotten him thrown down from the Heavens in the first place. This whole mess was his fault. If he hadn't Fallen, no one would be after Aziraphale. No one would hate him, he wouldn't be a demon... If he had just held back his questions. Crowley had never been one to follow orders, let along follow them blindly, without question. Aziraphale, on the other hand, would do whatever he was told and could be somewhat of a pushover.
Once Crowley reached his flat, he watered his plants and sat at the kitchen table, bored out of his mind. So far, the entire place was spotless and not a single plant had any spots. Everything was as it should be. He'd even made the bed - by hand - instead of using magic. He was that bored. He was still going back to the bookshop later that day, simply because he had nowhere else to be and didn't want to spend all that time alone.
He stared at the telephone, and picked it up, dialling Aziraphale's number.
"Angel?" He asked.
"Yes, dear?" Aizraphale said as he answered the phone, "Calling so soon?"
"I saw a duck on my way home," Crowley mentioned casually.
"Was it cute?"
"Yep."
"How lovely."
"I'm really bored." Crowley sighed.
"I can tell. I've never had anyone ring me to tell me about a duck before."
"I've never ringed anyone to talk about a duck I saw either."
"Do you want to come back over here? Tonight?"
"Yes. I've got nothing better to do."
"I've got something to show you anyway."
"I look forward to it." Crowley said, hanging up.
Later that day, he grabbed his sunglasses and keys and got back in his car. It seemed he only ever went four places anymore - the bookshop, his flat, Hell, and St James' Park. Back in the day he used to travel around, he'd been to Rome, Spain, Greece, all sorts of places. Now he stayed at home all the time and slept a good chunk of it.
His phone, which he'd left in the car overnight, began ringing. He grunted in annoyance and picked it up, one hand still on the wheel as he pulled out.
"What the Hell do you want from me?!" Crowley answered. On the other end of the line, he could hear some snickering.
"E-excuse me, sir, but it seems you've reached the wrong number," A high pitched, giggly voice said.
"You called me," Crowley pointed out, "Who is this? And why... Why the Hell are you calling from Beelzebub's phone?!"
"You don't recognise me?" The voice asked, slightly offended, "It's Beelzebub!"
"Buzz off, you stupid kids!"
"We're not kids!" Came the voice.
"Listen, I don't know what a bunch of little demonic children are doing running around with the Second-in-Command's phone, but you're going to get in very big trouble for it." Crowley scolded them.
"Oh no, they're coming!" The little voices panicked. A loud crash and a bang came, followed by a screech.
"GET OUT OF HERE!" Beelzebub's voice bellowed, "ALL OF YOU!"
The giggling stopped, and Beelzebub sighed.
"Hastur, get your lazy ass in here." They commanded. Crowley realised at that point that they hadn't noticed they hadn't hung up. So Crowley kept listening.
"I've just returned from a meeting with the archangel Gabriel," Beelzebub said casually, "And he's told me the war is to begin soon. He just wants to get rid of that foolish angel - Aziraphale - first."
"The one Crowley likes?" Hastur asked, "Because I just have to be there for that. The look on Crowley's face - Oh I can't wait!"
"Crowley doesn't love Aziraphale, Hastur. He's a demon! We can't love anyone! Have you lost your damn mind? I think I actually witnessed it fall out back there," Beelzebub snapped. Crowley tried not to laugh.
"Of course not." Hastur apologised, "My mistake."
"Anyway," Beelzebub growled, "Gabriel has promised the war to commence soon. He's asked me if it would be possible to endure the demon Crowley is nowhere to be found once that happens."
"Dead?" Hastur asked hopefully.
Well, Crowley thought sarcastically, Don't sound too upset.
"I don't feel like killing him. Too much work."
"Come, now, Beelzebub, we can't get lazy here -"
"You dare call me LAZY, Hastur?!" Beelzebub demanded. Crowley couldn't see them, though he was sure they were standing.
"No! No, I was just..."
"Just what?!" Beelzebub countered, "You know, you'll end up just like him!"
"Like who?"
"LIKE CROWLEY!"
"How so?"
"QUESTIONS, QUESTIONS, QUESTIONS! JUST SHUT. UP." No reply came from Hastur's end. Crowley was enjoying this immensely.
"I summoned you here because I need to to go and pay Crowley a visit. Tell him he's done. He can't escape what's coming for him. Tell him he can't run away from Hell."
"Mostly because he brings it with him wherever he goes," Hastur chuckled, but Beelzebub did not share the laugh.
"Hell is here, Hastur. You have orders. Go and do what I've asked of you."
There was somewhat of a mumbled reply from Hastur before Crowley hung up, and smiled. They thought he was so under prepared, so vulnerable... Oh, how they were wrong. All thanks to a couple of badly behaved demons. Crowley laughed, an evil, dark laugh.
"Something funny?" A deep voice asked, and Crowley went from laughing to choking on his own spit, nearly hitting another car and turning to see Hastur, who was staring unimpressed at Crowley.
"Well, it was, until you came along and scared the crap out of me." Crowley remarked, "What do you want? A bucket of holy water?"
"Stop the car." Hastur ordered.
"Why? And no."
"Stop."
Crowley sighed.
"Fine. I'm early anyway." He said, pulling over on the side of the road.
"I just came to warn you," Hastur said, "You know... The war and all."
"Yes, yes, I know what's what." Crowley paused, "What else have you come for?"
"Just a nice cup of tea and a chat, Crowley." He said sarcastically.
"Alright, what in Satan's name do you want from me so I can get you the hell out of my car?"
"You're finished, Crowley. Hell will find you. There's no escaping us."
"Okay." Crowley said with a shrug, "You know perfectly well I don't care."
"You should." Hastur grunted, "You think you know what you're doing all the time. Always know that someone out there is more clever than you are, and actually has a brain."
"Oh, and I suppose you're referring to yourself?"
"At least I don't walk around with sunglasses at night,"
"At least don't have a toad on my head."
"I don't hang around with an angel."
"I'm only hanging around him so I can stab him in the back," Crowley lied smoothly, "Surely, you of all demons would know that. When have I ever liked anything or anyone but myself?"
Hastur considered this.
"I suppose you have a point."
"In fact," Crowley went on, "Why aren't all of you guys out here befriending angels? This is how we win the WAR, you know."
"There is no 'we', Crowley. You aren't part of our side. You're a traitor."
"Just a friendly tip." Crowley answered, "You'll thank me later."
If Crowley went about it the right way... Maybe he could get both Heaven and Hell to turn against themselves. Demons fighting demons... Angels fighting angels... He could get them to tear themselves apart before the war reached humanity.
"We're still after you, Crowley. We don't care about the angels."
Of course they didn't. They were only out to hurt him, and that was what mattered. So long as no one was hurting Aziraphale. That was all he cared about. If anyone ever hurt his Angel... They would regret it.
"Now, are you just here to make me late?" Crowley asked impatiently.
"That was as long as I needed to be around." Hastur said, and he disappeared with a blink of an eye. Crowley rolled his eyes and continued driving, back to Aziraphale's bookshop. Once he arrived, he parked and got out of the car, not knocking, as usual.
"Aziraphale!" He called, "I'm back."
No answer.
"... Aziraphale?" He asked, quieter. He walked around the shop, checking the desk, the couch, the whole place, even upstairs. It was empty.
Aziraphale was gone.