~ Aziraphale's Perspective ~
Aziraphale was sitting on the floor, stroking Crowley's spiky red hair with his hand and brushing the demon's cheek with the other. His fingers ran over Crowley's smooth skin, holding his head against his chest. Aziraphale wished he could do this all the time. He wished he could hold and comfort Crowley whenever he was upset.
He wished - he hoped - that Crowley felt the same.
The angel, however, banished all those hopes. He knew Crowley could never love him. Never. He was a demon, and demons could not love anyone or anything. Aziraphale could still wish. He could still keep Crowley safe, even if the demon's love was out of question. Crowley's hand slid to Aziraphale's, and he twined their fingers together.
"Angel, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Crowley whispered, his voice barely audible. Aziraphale's heart sank at the sadness in the demon's voice. The angel pressed Crowley closer to him, wrapping the demon in his embrace.
"I forgive you." Aziraphale assured him, "I will always forgive you."
"You're not supposed to," Crowley said quietly, "None of this is supposed to be happening. Nothing between us."
"I know," Aziraphale sighed, "But... I... I don't know."
"If you don't want to risk your life and status, I understand." Crowley said sympathetically, though his voice was soaked in grief.
"No!" Aziraphale said quickly, "I mean... I... I want to be your friend, Crowley."
"I want to be yours too, Angel." The demon said, the sincerity in his voice making Aziraphale's heart swell. He let Crowley rest his head on his chest, watching as he closed his eyes.
"When Hell finds out..." Aziraphale lost the words and shook his head, "I can't have them hurt you."
"Forget about me, Angel."
"Never again." Aziraphale promised, "I did once, a long time ago, and there was nothing I could have done to get those memories back. And yet, I still found you. Again. And I found myself caring for the same soul all over again. It doesn't matter whether you were an angel, a demon or an aardvark. You would still be my best friend."
Crowley opened his mouth to say something, but no sounds came out. He had always had trouble expressing any sort of feelings. Aziraphale knew most demons did. He felt that glow, that one emotion that radiated off of Crowley like light did the sun. But the angel could not place his finger on it. But there was a lot of it, and it was always stronger than it had been the day before. It wasn't bad, and it was certainly a feeling the angel had sensed on others. Mostly humans, but some angels too.
Aziraphale looked down at Crowley, who was whimpering softly. Silent tears slid down his cheeks as the angel's touch, and Aziraphale stared in confusion.
"Oh, dearest..." Aziraphale tilted Crowley's chin up, "Don't cry..."
"...Angel..." Crowley sniffed, hugging the angel as tight as he could. Aziraphale crossed his legs, wiping away the demon's tears. His eyes were completely yellow, usually a sign of stress. Crowley's eyes were more and more yellow depending on how much he was trying to pass for human or how much stress he was under.
"Why are you upset?" Aziraphale asked, stroking Crowley's head, "Don't cry, please."
"I-I'm sorry," Crowley stuttered, "I-I don't want them to hurt y-you."
"Oh..." Aziraphale looked down at Crowley. He could feel his heart beating rapidly as he cried. It was then that Aziraphale came to the startling realisation of what he wanted to do. The angel wanted to whisper three words, three short words to Crowley over and over until he fell asleep. He wanted to do more than just hold the demon.
But Heaven and hell forbid.
They couldn't do this. Aziraphale let go of Crowley, his heart aching as the demon clung to his jacket, tears soaking the angel's sleeve. He could have sworn Crowley had said something, but his words were too quiet to be heard. Aziraphale looked at the demon, knowing how hurt he was.
But Crowley understood. The demon knew when he was welcome, and when it was wise to stay away.
And it broke Aziraphale's heart.
"I'm sorry..." Aziraphale murmured, "I'm sorry I can't love you."
Crowley nodded slightly, more tears falling.
"As am I." the demon answered, sitting up. Aziraphale and Crowley were both standing now, gazing into each other's eyes. The demon's yellow eyes were beautiful to Aziraphale, perfect to him in every way imaginable.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" Crowley asked.
"Always."
~~~
The following day, Aziraphale did not see his best friend. He spent the entire day avoiding the war, worrying and pacing around his bookshop. Had something happened to Crowley? No, no, nothing had happened. This was about the seventh time he was telling himself this that day, and he was determined to stop thinking about it. But every time he looked towards the door, out the window and towards the street... He thought about it again. The streets that were once bustling with people were now empty, the fighting chasing out most of them. Everyone was trying to escape the war. Aziraphale, though ashamed of it, had to admit he too had thought about running away. He was certain Crowley had. The amounts of times the demon had suggested flying all the way Alpha Centauri...
The amount of times Aziraphale had declined the offer. Sometimes the angel felt bad. Sometimes he felt as though he had truly hurt his friend, even if he knew this was what had to be done. What Aziraphale wanted and what Crowley needed were one and the same. What was something else entirely was what had to be done. The only thing standing in their way would be both Heaven and Hell, all their armies and a war. The angel kept thinking back to the way he'd pushed Crowley away the previous night, and how the sobbing demon had tried to cling to him, practically begging Aziraphale not to go. In the end they knew it was what they had to do. Demons could not love, and angels were forbidden to love the enemy.
Still, the angel had seen it in Crowley's eyes. Seen the hurt. Aziraphale, regardless of what the other angels told him, believed that Crowley cared for him. Or, at least, that was what he wanted to believe. He wanted to believe that so badly, as if that might make it true. As though maybe Crowley could love him. The question just made Aziraphale think of Crowley. The angel knew he loved Crowley. He loved him more than anything... And because he did, he couldn't be with him. He would only get hurt, and it would all be his fault.
Aziraphale barely heard the phone ring because he was so lost in his thoughts. He picked it up, expecting Crowley's voice to greet him, and was baffled when a familiar female voice greeted him.
"Aziraphale." she spoke, her voice so quiet he wondered if she was hiding from someone. Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, trying to remember where he knew her voice from.
"Pardon me, Miss, but I think you may have reached the wrong number..."
"No." she said, something feeling slightly off about her voice, "I haven't forgotten about you."
"...Elidith?" he uttered her name like a curse. He straightened in his chair, standing up. Elidith had been the angel whom he'd met upon the beginning of the war. She had refused to fight, and Gabriel had tried to cast her out of Heaven, only for the dark haired angel to go herself.
"You're alive?!" Aziraphale exclaimed.
"You must listen to what I've heard," she breathed, ignoring him completely, "They are planning things, Aziraphale. Awful things."
"How did you get this number?" he asked, horrified, "Where are you? What..."
"I'm a Fallen angel, Aziraphale. I'm in a very bad place."
Hell. She was calling from Hell.
"Elidith, you could get in serious trouble for this! I don't think... I..." Aziraphale swallowed, his head spinning and beginning to hurt. He'd only met her once. What was she doing?!
"There are angels down here, Aziraphale. There are angels in Hell."
"Yes, Fallen ones -"
"No." she hissed, "There are angels in Hell. Gabriel comes here. He speaks to... them."
"Them?" Aziraphale asked, "Who?"
Elidith's voice lowered and shook slightly as she took a breath.
"Beelzebub. He talks to them. He comes here. Aziraphale, they have no intention of winning this war."
"My dear, I'm afraid I cannot help you."
"I'm not asking for your help." she spat, "I'm giving you a warning. You have to listen to what I've heard. They've all forgotten about me now - they all believe me to be dead. I've heard things, Aziraphale. They say God is planning another storm."
"Another?" the angel squeaked, "No, She can't... One as bad as the last?"
"I don't know." she admitted. "I can only find out so much Down here."
"Where have they taken you? What did they do? Are you alright?" Aziraphale asked, realising he probably should have started with that.
"No." she answered, "They broke my wings."
Aziraphale stayed quiet. He held his breath, as though breathing would make something shatter. He cleared his throat moments later, blinking.
"How are you calling here?" He asked again.
"I told you. They all think I'm dead. Once Beelzebub and their serpent ordered me to the pits, they left me there. Days. I thought it was over for me."
"Beelzebub and... their serpent?" Aziraphale asked.
"The one who loves you." she said softly.
"Crowley? No - he would never do that to you! He would never..."
"I do not blame him." she told him, her voice dull.
"There must have been some mistake -"
"No mistake." she interrupted sharply, "But it was not his fault. He did not see. He didn't think he could save you. He wanted to try, for you. He loves you."
"H-he's a demon," Aziraphale choked out, "He cannot love."
"I saw his eyes, Aziraphale. He loves you, more than you could ever imagine."
"Stop it." Aziraphale snapped, "It's impossible."
"I do not lie."
"Y-you're a demon now, Elidith! I cannot trust you. I'm sorry."
"Crowley is in danger. When those rains come down from the Heavens - they will be of holy water. What will happen when you aren't there? What will happen when you can't save him?"
"You are lying." Aziraphale accused her, shaking his head from the worries that gave him a headache.
"You are more foolish than I imagined, Aziraphale. Save the one who loves you."
"He doesn't love me! What does this even have to do with you?!"
"He fights for peace, Guardian. No one fights for peace. He fights in a war so that there can be peace. He's a demon capable of so many things - he fell in love."
"I'm not in love!" Aziraphale hissed, needing to convince himself more than her. Silence came from the other end, though he could feel her disbelief all the way in Hell.
"Do you love him." not a question, but something she needed an answer for nonetheless. The angel took a breath before saying;
"No. I don't love Crowley."
~ Crowley's Perspective ~
Earlier that day...
Over the past few weeks, Crowley had been growing a specific kind of plant that apparently grew little flowers. At first, he'd tried to get rid of the nasty things, scolding his plants for growing such hideous petals and... Well, just for growing flowers in Crowley's demonic presence.
He'd had an idea the following week, and had found a use for the sweet pink flowers. They had reminded him of everything kind, soft and good.
Which reminded him of Aziraphale. So, he had gone home to his flat that day and had begun picking the prettiest flowers from the plant, and arranging them to look nice in a bundle of pink. He could not stand to look at them, but... They were for Aziraphale.
"You lot better be flawless." he growled, plucking another one. They trembled in fear, bringing a smile to Crowley's face. He wasn't sure if it was because he was thinking of his Angel, or because he was tormenting house plants. Both brought him a considerable amount of pleasure.
"That's right," he sneered, "Cower in fear, puny flowers! I am your doom, and should you fail me..." He made a motion with his left hand, slitting it across his throat. The demon chuckled as the flowers shook more. He plucked another, and another, happy at killing all the best ones. Crowley's heart felt light that day, knowing he had a wonderful surprise for his Angel. He knew Aziraphale would love it. He sat up, taking his bouquet of soft pink flowers and sauntering down the hall to the table, placing the flowers gently down and looking at what he had on the counter. One delicate ring, the colour of Aziraphale's wings.
Crowley looked down at his own finger, a black ring that took the form of a snake twisted around his finger.
When he'd first thought of the idea he'd seen two humans at the park with matching rings. He had no idea what they were for, and out of curiosity, had stayed and listened. They'd said the rings were some sort of bonding thing the humans did. Crowley, in all his years of being on earth, had never heard of it. The two humans in the park had said 'I love you' to each other, and had hugged and kissed and held hands.
Crowley wanted to do that.
So, he now had two rings. One for Aziraphale, and one he wore around his own finger. He hadn't really seen which finger the humans had put it around... But he didn't think it mattered. So he slid it onto his pinkie finger. The demon had hidden Aziraphale's ring in his pocket as he hopped into the Bentley and placed the flowers next to him. He hit the button that played his CD, and smiled to himself as he drove along the road.
Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy!
He did not sing, as he didn't want his horrific singing to ruin the song. The sun gleamed off his glasses as he pushed them up his nose, unable to conceal his smile.
Ooh, love, ooh, lover boy!
What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?
Everything's all right,
Just hold on tight,
That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy.
He looked down at his ring, thrilled with his brilliant idea. Even when he wasn't with his Angel, even when Heaven and Hell stood in their way... He would have something to remember him by.
Later that day...
Crowley stood in the doorway of his Angel's bookshop, silently waiting for the blonde haired angel to get off the phone. He listened quietly, to half of a telephone conversation.
"He doesn't love me! What does this even have to do with you?!" the angel exclaimed, clearly aggravated. Crowley narrowed his eyes, listening further.
"I'm not in love!" Aziraphale hissed. Crowley flinched back, his eyes widening. Aziraphale sighed, then said something that made the demon's heart cleave in two.
"No. I don't love Crowley."
Aziraphale put the phone down, and raised his head to see Crowley standing there, the flowers in his hands and his lip quivering.
He did not know about the ring Crowley had in his pocket.
"These were for you," Crowley said, his voice cracking as he put them on the table, "But I guess you don't want them."
Aziraphale shook his head, standing up.
"Crowley! Wait - come back!" he tried as the demon fixed his dark sunglasses and turned towards the door. Aziraphale attempted to grab Crowley's wrist, but the demon pulled away and shoved the door open.
"Crowley, stop, please!" the angel pleaded, "Don't go outside!"
Crowley didn't listen. He tried to run away, running down the street. Aziraphale, as fast as he could, followed. Crowley ran, still, his sunglasses falling off. He didn't care. After everything Aziraphale had said... After he'd held and comforted Crowley the day before... How could he have done this? The real question was; how had Crowley believed an angel could love him? The demon snorted.
Stupid, He thought, I'm so freaking stupid.
Crowley hissed, tears streaming down his face and singing like scorching flames. He yelped in pain as he realised those were not only his tears. He barely even saw the raindrops, not until he tasted the air and found it smelt... Of cold, empty, crisp water...
And it burned.
Crowley stopped dead in his tracks, gazing in horror towards the sky, and the rain that was beginning to fall. He covered his head, his heart racing as the truth dawned upon him. Aziraphale caught up to him, slamming into Crowley so hard the demon had to steady the two of them. The angel spread his white angelic wings wide, using them to cover the demon, shielding him from any rain. Crowley stared in shock, his mouth going suddenly dry as his Angel came so close their breath mingled. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley's neck, pressing his body close to him and raising himself into his toes. Crowley didn't dare blink as his Angel pressed his lips against Crowley's. The demon could feel himself smiling as he kissed Aziraphale back, hugging him too.
His tears streamed down his cheeks, and Aziraphale wiped them away, as he always did.
"You could have been killed." his Angel whispered, his voice thick with worry, "I don't know... I'm not sure what I would have done if... Crowley, I'm sorry..."
The demon looked down at the angel, instantly forgiving him. Crowley tilted the angel's chin up, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
"I love you, Angel," Crowley breathed, "You have no idea how much."
"I know, Crowley. I know."
The demon reached into his pocket, feeling his cheeks flush with red. He took out the white ring and looked into Aziraphale's pale blue eyes.
"I... erm, I saw two humans who really loved each other wearing matching rings. I... I didn't really know a whole lot about it, but... I thought... Maybe you... might... Maybe you would want to wear them with me?" Crowley bit his tongue in suspense as he showed the white ring to Aziraphale, whose eyes widened.
"Oh, Crowley..." he smiled, "Of course."
Crowley returned the smile.
"...I wear mine on my pinkie finger. I don't really know where it goes."
Aziraphale twined their fingers together as he slipped his ring onto his pinkie as well.
"You know, this isn't exactly what the humans do... But I've heard they make something called a 'pinkie promise'. You do this," he wrapped his pinkie around Crowley's, their rings touching.
"I promise I will never let you fall, Crowley." Aziraphale vowed.
"I promise I will never let them hurt you, Angel," Crowley answered, "As long as I love you."