~ Crowley's Perspective ~
The demon thought he had nothing left to fight for. The war was pointless to him. Should have been pointless. But then, some part of him, deep down, still burned with a hope that Beelzebub had not snuffed out. A flame that only had a faint glow remaining, a fire that could not be put out.
As long as you love him.
As long as Crowley loved Aziraphale, there would always be some sort of hope. Something left to fight for. He walked behind Beelzebub, an endless trail of demons lined up behind him, ready to win a war that could not be won.
"Let me go! I WILL NOT FIGHT!" Crowley whipped his head towards the sound of a female, shrieking at two demons who were dragging her from a pool of black sulfur. Her head hung lowly as she bared her teeth, or, her fangs. She had shimmering scales on her face that covered her fair skin like stars. Her eyes were green, and shadows dripped from them. Her hair, dark brown, long and pin straight, was dripping with darkness Crowley knew hadn't been there before. He knew because when he looked at her wings, they were broken and bleeding, dark red seeping into midnight feathers. She screamed as they took her, screamed for peace and shouted things at those who passed her.
"Kill me," She rasped, "I dare you,"
Crowley swallowed from his place behind Beelzebub, knowing damn well the demons holding her would take their words seriously. He glanced up at her, and her emerald green eyes met his.
"So they haven't killed you yet," She crooned, her words heaving into a sigh. Her eyes shone with curiosity and yet were clouded in pain.
Crowley stared back.
"You were the angel from the bookshop," He pieced together out loud. She smiled in response. In front of him, Beelzebub shot a glare at the demons that would send normal people running.
"Do not waste your breath conversing with her. She is of no use to us. Heaven's rubbish, that's what she is. Unwilling to fight. Take her to the pits," Beelzebub waved their hand in dismissal, and the demons kept walking, the Fallen angel hissing and squirming. She was much stronger than Crowley had been after his Fall. He'd sat there for days, unable to move. He'd cried for weeks. He had never truly healed.
"You!" She screamed at Crowley, who jerked his head back at her, "You loved that angel. Aziraphale. You loved him, I saw it. I saw it in your eyes when you asked where he was. I saw him in Heaven, you know. I've not forgotten. You haven't let this tyrant -" The Fallen angel jabbed a pointed claw at Beelzebub, "- Control you, have you? Do not bow to her. Do not bow to Heaven. Do not fight in the war. I will not beg," She said, her voice dropping, "But do not let her break you."
"I am already broken, Fallen angel." Crowley said, his voice dull and filled with grief.
"Come along, Crowley. Do not listen to her." Beelzebub said sharply.
"You can still save him," The dark haired female argued, "I may be beyond saving..." She looked down at her useless wings, "But he is not. Save him, demon. Save your angel."
"Take her to the pits," Crowley echoed, turning away from her fierce green eyes. The guilt choked him, but he didn't look back.
"You'll regret this," She spat, "All of you! Especially you, Serpent."
Crowley swallowed his fear and regret, and followed Beelzebub back up the stairs of Hell. The dark walls were cracked and old, the steps crumbling with age. Thousands of demons marched up to earth, carrying weapons that could kill the holiest of angels in a single swipe. Crowley had no weapon, only his fire. He was a low-life demon, worthless. He probably wouldn't be trusted with a weapon anyways. The light at the top of the stairs was not white or blue, but red with flames that stained the sky. One by one, the demons emerged and lined up, gazing towards a line of white feathered angels. Crowley scanned the soldiers of angels for Aziraphale, growing hot with shame. He couldn't let that get in his way. Still, he let out a breath of relief when he did not see his Angel amongst those in the front lines.
Until he saw Gabriel.
And next to him, a blonde haired, blue eyed angel, with wings as white as the soft feathers of a dove, and skin pale and smooth. His little bow tie did not fit the war, and did not seem to match the violence the flaming sword in his hand portrayed.
Crowley suddenly found the ground to be in need of his utmost attention. Beelzebub grinned at him, an action he did not return.
"Oh, perk up. Pull your crap together, will you?" They snapped, "This is going to be fun."
"How many will die?" He asked instead, steering his focus away from Aziraphale. Beelzebub snorted and rolled their grey blue eyes.
"Who cares? This is war. Kill or be killed, Crowley." They picked at their nails, then smirked at the arch angel leading Heaven's army.
"Why must we fight?" Crowley found himself asked, though he had previously made a mental note to stay quiet.
"You cannot be serious. We're demons, Crowley! We have every right to reign victorious over the snobby angels of Heaven."
Crowley bit his tongue, unable to find that smart ass way of speech he once possessed. It seemed as though the moment he had bowed to her, he had lost it. Behind them, too many demons to count readied their weapons, cheering on the war. Gabriel and Beelzebub stared at each other, smiling wickedly. As though they had some sort of secret communication that would most definitely end in the world burning.
"Demons of Hell, Follow me!" Beelzebub's voice boomed around the streets, their battle cry giving birth to the official start of the very last war. Still, Crowley's eyes rested on the angel next to Gabriel.
It took all of his self restraint not to rush over to Aziraphale and throw his arms around the angel as the forces of Heaven and Hell collided, black and white feathers mingling. Explosions went off, the sound ringing in his ears. Arrows whizzed past him, surly dipped in poison. His heart caught in his throat as he dodged out of the way. He snapped his fingers, illuminating that small flame of magic. Across the clearing, he could see two figures, one standing down and the other tall and confident.
"I told you you had to get in shape, Aziraphale." A snarky male voice said coolly. Crowley titled his head up towards the voice, pinpointing Aziraphale and Gabriel standing in the middle of a fury of swords and fire. Light flashed and sparks flew as the two fought side by side, Aziraphale out of breath. Gabriel had no issues.
"You're a failure. No wonder your demon friend no longer loves you." Gabriel taunted, and Crowley could see his Angel's eyes watering as he took off, flying away from Gabriel.
When the silver grey jacket caught his eyes, Crowley snarled. He shot forward, opening his wings. The archangel whirled around, and Gabriel's violet eyes gleamed with excitement as he spotted Crowley.
The demon lunged for Gabriel's throat.
"How dare you!" Crowley hissed, "I'll kill you!"
Gabriel swerved away from Crowley's blow, spinning his sword and missing Crowley's left wing by inches. The demon's face was twisted with rage as he leaped onto the archangel, shifting into his snake form and coiling around Gabriel's throat. The angel clawed desperately as Crowley's sheen scales, the snake leaning forward to Gabriel's ear.
"Y-ou still think you p-protect him?" Gabriel wheezed.
Crowley cursed Gabriel, the most vile words he could muster. His voice came out raspy as a serpent, the words dissolving into the cries of the war. He snapped at Gabriel, sinking his fangs into his shoulder.
He swelled with pride when the archangel cried out in pain. The two bite marks turned black around the edges, and his violet eyes glazed over.
"Stop!" Aziraphale screamed, and at the harsh words, Crowley shifted back. Scales went back to skin, he stood on shaky legs and blinked once. He whipped around to see the blonde angel, clutching his flaming sword. Aziraphale's pale blue eyes were filled with rage, an emotion Crowley had never seen on him before. The angel swung the flaming blade, and it came into contact with Crowley's wing. His heart sped up as he shrank away from his angel, staring in horror and pain at his wing. Blood seeped through his feathers and dripped onto the ground. The demon whimpered in pain, trying to get off the floor. Aziraphale stared at him, his eyes filled with tears.
"Be gone, demon." He said coldly.
But Crowley wasn't leaving. He could not meet his angel's eyes, the soft blue he had once known now cold and filled with ice even his fire could not melt. Gabriel smirked behind Aziraphale, and Crowley blinked back tears. He hadn't realised he was trembling in pain, or that his hands were now soaked in blood from his wings.
Gabriel stood up, grabbing the hilt of his sword and locking his eyes into Aziraphale's back. Crowley held his hand out, the flames from his palm whirling towards the archangel. Crowley shot towards him, tackling him before he could plunge his knife into Aziraphale's back. The blue eyed angel, unsure of how to respond, stood there, not moving from his place. Gabriel and Crowley brawled longer, each blow harder than the last. Finally, Gabriel grabbed Crowley's left wing, his injured one, and twisted it so hard Crowley screamed. He shook so much now he could barely fight, and Gabriel tossed him to the floor.
"Finish him, Aziraphale." Gabriel ordered.
"No," Crowley whimpered, covering his mouth. He hadn't meant to say that word out loud. Tears flooded his eyes as he tried and failed to move his wing.
"Angel," The word itself was a plea that even he knew sounded pathetic, "Please... I'm so sorry... they said... they said they would hurt you if I... if I didn't..."
"Is this true?" Aziraphale said, his cold tone directed at Gabriel now.
"Of course not," Gabriel said quickly, "He's lying!"
Crowley shook his head desperately, trying to dig his fingernails into the concrete.
"I'm your Best Friend!" Crowley protested, "I would n-never lie to you!"
"You're a demon." Aziraphale pointed out, "It's in your nature."
"I wouldn't l-lie to you, I promise. Everything I said, I t-take it back! Please... p-please..."
"Really?" Aziraphale scoffed, "Because just yesterday you told me we aren't even friends at all, and that we never were. You told me to leave and never come back."
"I didn't mean it, Angel, I'm sorry... She made me, she said she would hurt you, t-they told me as long as I cared, you w-would never be s-safe. Yesterday, Gabriel and Beelzebub found me and told me they would hurt you if I didn't tell you I hated you. I swear on my life that I'm not lying. Y-you have to believe m-me! When I stood in line to fight in this war, something broke inside of me. Something I didn't even know could be broken, or that I even had in the first place. You're the only one who makes me smile, Aziraphale. The only one worth fighting for. You're the r-reason I'm in this war - I'm not fighting for them." He pointed his hand to the battle around them. "I'm not fighting for Heaven or for Hell. I'm fighting for you. I always have b-been. I thought - I didn't - I was afraid. I was afraid that i-if we were still friends, that H-Heaven would be m-mad and that they would make you F-Fall. I couldn't have you be hurt because of me," Crowley's voice broke, "I was never good enough to protect you."
"That's the sad part, Crowley. You were once. You used to be good enough. You used to be the best." The angel lowered his sword, tears streaming down his face, "I don't know what happened to you."
Crowley choked on his words, unable to voice his feelings. He simply stared at the sword, waiting for Aziraphale to finish him off.
"I would do it again," Crowley said, his voice heavy with tears, "In a thousand lifetimes, in any world... I would find you, and I would do it all over again. I would Fall one hundred more times if it meant I could just have one last time. One more yesterday."
"Crowley, we could have had so many more tomorrows."
"I'm sorry." Was all Crowley could gather to say. And he closed his eyes, resting his head in his hands and tucking his knees to his chest. He let his left wing fall to the floor, a broken, bleeding mess, while his other wing wrapped around himself, waiting for his death to be brought upon him by his Angel.
"Crowley." Aziraphale spoke his name softly, as he always had. The tone itself triggered an overwhelming amount of emotions for the demon. The angel brushed the tip of his feathers over Crowley's cheek, wiping away his tears. A warm, relieving white glow radiated off of Aziraphale's hands as he stroked Crowley's injured wing. The demon flinched, looking up at Aziraphale with eyes filled with an apology the angel knew he could not put into words. When Crowley looked back at his wing, he felt no pain. All traces of blood had been healed by Heaven's grace, the bone mended and the cut no longer existent. He looked at Aziraphale, his expression somewhere between shocked and adoring.
I love you, Crowley thought, I love you, I love you, I love you...
"I'm so, so sorry." Crowley said instead, wishing he could have said what he was thinking. Instead, he apologised, not only for being a horrible friend, but for not being able to say what he felt inside. From behind them, a pointed cough brought the two back to the present.
"I was wondering how long it would take you." Gabriel said. He looked beyond irritated, and Crowley realised that the streets of London were no longer stone, but stained with red. Spilled blood covered every inch of the city, but the fighting still went on. Crowley's hands were covered in his own blood, and he winced as he stood up only to slip in it. He nearly threw up at the sight, though the angels, strangely enough, did not seem bothered. Crowley was sick to his stomach now, clutching the sleeve of Aziraphale's jacket and didn't dare to let go. He would never let go.
"Your foolishness will cost you, Aziraphale." Gabriel said, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the two of them. Crowley knew he meant it. His heart sped up at the thought of his worst fears coming true. This was exactly why he'd stayed away.
As long as you love him.
Crowley dug his fingernails further into the angel's jacket. He no longer hid the fact that he was terrified. He hated himself for it. He should be braver than this. This was why he wasn't good enough for Aziraphale. He had never been strong. Not at all.
"I will pay the cost." Aziraphale answered sternly.
"Even if the cost of saving your beloved is your halo?"
"I will pay the cost." Aziraphale repeated, his voice not wavering at all. Crowley shook his head, staring in horror at his Angel.
"N-no!" He choked out, "Angel, it's not worth it! I'm not worth it!"
"Yes, you are. You always were." Aziraphale replied, not leaving Crowley any room for a reasonable argument. Gabriel smiled one of his perfect, smug smiles and snapped his fingers, throwing the three of them into an settling amount of white light. For Crowley, that was. It was much too bright for his snake eyes, so he squeezed them shut and held Aziraphale tighter. He tried to ignore the fact that his knees wobbled, or that his hands shook, though he was sure the others had noticed. Any demons within a mile probably would have scented his fear had it not been for the gruesome amounts of blood that were pooling on the streets of London. The metal tang vanished from the air, Crowley's nose filling with a cool, empty smell of rain and water.
He had forgotten long ago what Heaven smelt like. He certainly didn't remember it reeking of emptiness. The white skies were filled with clouds, the air cold. The demon much preferred extreme amounts of heat to the cold, being cold blooded and all. Now, the sun didn't touch his skin and no fires burned. The place itself made him uncomfortable, but he kept his eyes on Gabriel. The violet eyed angel stared back, his smile not faltering even once. With another anp of his fingers, the powerful archangel had chains around Aziraphale's wings. His Angel frowned slightly, but stared at Crowley. The demon's heart sank when it should have lifted, and he tugged on the chains, desperately trying to free him.
"No, no, no! Stop!" Crowley cried, clawing at the chains as though it would help. Gabriel snorted in amusement, flicking his hand as Crowley. An invisible force of air knocked him backwards, and Crowley nearly flew off the edge of the cloud, his head spinning when he looked down at the fall. The fall his Angel was about to take for him. Crowley didn't stop protesting as two more angels flanked Gabriel's sides. They grabbed Aziraphale's arms, Crowley's Angel closing his eyes as they did so.
"Aziraphale!" Crowley screamed, "Please, let him go!"
"This is your fault, demon." Gabriel snapped.
"Please," Crowley whimpered.
"Throw him down." Gabriel ordered. Crowley scrambled off the ground and onto his feet, lunging for the angels that held Aziraphale. His Angel looked at him, his pale blue eyes begging him to stay away.
"No!" Crowley pleaded, "Stop!"
"I told you you couldn't protect him." Gabriel reminded him.
"You can't do this! YOU'RE NOT GOD!"
"This is why you Fell, demon," Gabriel said, his tone content and pleased with his handiwork, "You displeased Her by defying God Herself."
"I didn't deserve to Fall," Crowley hissed, "I asked questions because I did not wish to follow Her orders of smiting innocent people. So asked. And because I had enough bravery to do so, she freaking chucked me off the edge of Heaven. That was God's choice. You don't get to decide what becomes of Aziraphale. Only God does, and even then, IT'S UNFAIR. I will not stand by and watch you hurt Aziraphale!"
"Crowley, stop, please," Aziraphale told him, the look in his eyes filled with dissertation and sadness, "They'll hurt you."
"I don't care!" Crowley yelled.
"I do!" Aziraphale shot back, "I'm doing this for you! Because I care about you, Crowley!"
"I won't let you Fall." Crowley vowed, and with those words he shifted into his snake form, a flash of light, and slithered to one of the angel's ankles. The angel tried and failed to move as Crowley sped up, shooting forward and biting down hard onto the angel. He screamed in pain as he dropped the flaming sword they had confiscated from Aziraphale. Crowley shifted back, grabbing the sword in his hand and adjusted to the new body as fast as he could. His heart skipped a beat as the other angel tried to shove Aziraphale off the edge. Crowley gripped the sword in his hand and slashed the blade's burning edge to the angel's soft olive skin, his scream bringing Crowley a sense of guilt. It vanished, however, the moment Gabriel opened his mouth. A reminder of why he had been fighting in the first place.
"Kill him!" The archangel ordered.
Gabriel, probably realising if you want something done, you have to do it yourself, waved his hands in a circular pattern. The movement caused yet another wave of light, blinding Crowley for a few heartbeats. The demon didn't stop fighting as he grabbed Aziraphale, using the flaming sword to melt through the chains. Aziraphale gaped in awe as he did so, and Crowley whirled, facing Gabriel, standing in front of Aziraphale. His free hand was in front of his Angel, in his other hand he held the sword tightly.
"Bold of you, demon, to stand in front of me and defy both Heaven and Hell."
"Bold you to defy me." Crowley shot back, smiling at the return of his sarcastic tone.
"Crowley," Aziraphale whispered, "Crowley!"
Soon the angel was yelling his name, and Crowley turned to see dozens of angels resurfacing, soldiers from the war called to help. When the demon looked back at Gabriel, he archangel wore a smile that never seemed to go away.
"Shit." Crowley hissed, repeating the curse over and over. Aziraphale frowned at him, crossed with his choice of vocabulary.
The demon did not care as he spat the word at Gabriel, who did not so much as flinch.
"Run," Crowley breathed, taking his Angel's hand and shooting into the sky. Arrows fired and magic came at them, some of the angels taking flight after them.
"Do something, Crowley, please, do something!" Aziraphale begged. Crowley focused, trying to get away.
"Faster." He gasped, pulling Aziraphale along, "We have to go faster!"
He reached for the bundle of magic inside him, twirling the flames around. He beat his wings harder and harder each time, then closed his eyes. The fire erupted around them, and the demon and angel blinked away in a flash of flames. They reappeared on hard wooden floors, Crowley slumping forward in exhaustion. The floors of the bookshop, he realised as he opened his eyes a crack. He felt Aziraphale brush his hand over Crowley's cheek, the best feeling the demon had ever experienced. He leaned into the touch, smiling as he did so.
"You saved me." Aziraphale said softly, "You were always worth it, my dear. Always."
Crowley didn't hesitate to throw his arms around the angel, burying his head in his shoulder. Crowley didn't know how long they stayed like that, but he knew it wasn't long enough.
I love you, The demon thought, I love you, Angel.