~ Crowley's Perspective ~
Crowley was awake. He bit his lower lip to keep himself from crying, frustrated with how weak he was. Crying was weak. Demons weren't weak. Demons didn't cry.
I don't want to be a demon.
He sniffed and began to feel tears slide down his cheeks. He tried to hold them back, but in doing so, he cried more. He burst into sobs, not even sure why he was crying. Did normal people cry for no reason?
Shut up, Crowley, he thought, SHUT UP.
He didn't know what was going on, and he knew he was alone now. No more Beelzebub. They weren't there. No Aziraphale.
Aziraphale was dead.
He choked on his tears, beginning to shake. He was scared. He knew that.
"S-stop crying!" he exclaimed, standing up. The whole world was spinning, and he felt absolutely dreadful. He pulled on his hair, looking around desperately for his sunglasses. He finally spotted the dark shades, cracked in the corner by a fallen painting. He took a deep breath, trying and failing to calm himself down. He darted around his flat, not sure what he was looking for. His head hurt, and he tripped over absolutely nothing and was thrown onto the floor. He let out another sob, curling up on the ground.
"Oh, what would Beelzebub say? What would Aziraphale think of me?" he wondered, his voice cracking, "That I'm weak. And stupid."
He burst into tears. The demon wanted help, he wanted someone, anyone, to help him.
"H-help me," he whimpered, "S-someone..."
He felt as though all the air had been snuffed out of him. He couldn't breathe. He gasped for air, tears running down his face and dripping onto the floor. He clutched his chest, feeling his heart beating incredibly fast underneath his hand.
"H-help..."
He looked around, his gaze sliding to a table. He raised an eyebrow when he saw what was on top of it. A golden ring, shining in the sunlight.
He'd given that to Aziraphale.
He glanced towards his own pinky finger, moving around the black snake tendril of a ring on his own hand. He'd given the golden ring on the table to Aziraphale so they could match each other, like the humans did. Crowley didn't really know why they did that, but he knew that people who wore them loved each other.
What was the ring doing there now? Aziraphale was gone, how was his ring...?
Crowley's heart made the mistake of fluttering as he stood up and picked up the ring. He cursed quietly.
Why did he have to love the silly angel?! He was a demon! Why did he have to love at all?! If Aziraphale's ring was there... he'd been wearing it when he'd... when he'd... gone. The ring should have been completely destroyed.
...Which... meant the angel was still alive.
Crowley slipped the golden ring into his pocket and unfolded his jet black wings. Tears dried quickly on his face as he sprinted down the hallway and bolted down the stairs. When he reached outside, he shot into the air and flew over the buildings, scanning the ground for Aziraphale.
Like looking for a needle in a haystack. How the hell was he supposed to find one angel out of all of Heaven, Hell and Earth? Crowley, deep, deep down, was an optimist. Not exactly an optimist, but more of a demon who refused to give up.
Especially when it came to his angel.
"AZIRAPHALE!" he cried, "ANGEL, WHERE ARE YOU?!"
Crowley swooped down lower, trying to figure out where the angel could have gone.
He would have come back to me if he was able to, right? Crowley thought. That meant that Aziraphale couldn't come back. Something, someone, was preventing him. Crowley's thought came to the conclusion that Hell was behind it. Maybe Aziraphale was in Hell. Perhaps they'd taken him there. Or Heaven. The angels weren't always angelic. They could be doing horrible things to Aziraphale. Crowley gritted his teeth, thinking of where he should look first. What if he was too late? What if - what if -
"AZIRAPHALE!" he continued to call for his angel, fighting back his panic. He'd been in that situation before. Crowley had a habit of knowing when his angel was in danger, and where he was at all hours.
He was getting that feeling now.
The same one he'd gotten when the bookshop was on fire. The same feeling he'd had when Aziraphale had been kidnapped and had been about to be beheaded during the revolution. The same one he'd felt during the second war, when the Nazis had Aziraphale.
Crowley had made it all those times. For six thousand years.
He wasn't about to fail now.
So the demon ducked lower, scanning the streets of London and flying through an explosion of hellfire. He dove down, and then caught a glimpse of a burning feather. His eyes narrowed to keep away the smoke, even with his sunglasses. He landed in the flames, holding his breath. If he discorporated in this fire...
"Angel?!" Crowley called, repeating the name.
Through the flames, Crowley could make out a dark silhouette lying on the floor. He rushed over to the figure, and thrust his hands out to keep back all the fire. The tears he'd been holding back flooded his eyes once again as his gaze came to rest on a very still Aziraphale. The angel had chains wrapped around his wings, chains Crowley knew would have been invisible to all the other forms of life, including himself, until now. Aziraphale's arms and shoulders were covered in burns, and his wings were scorched so badly you would never have known they were white.
"Angel!" Crowley whimpered, his voice breaking as he knelt by the angel and took him gently into the demon's arms. Crowley's wings flapped as hard as he could, and he brought his angel away from the fire, lying him softly down on the ground. Tears streamed down Crowley's face as he tried to wake the angel.
"Aziraphale, please, wake up," he begged, "Please... Why... why aren't you breathing?"
Crowley's panic swelled in his chest as he looked desperately around to think of a solution. This was hellfire. It wasn't just discorpertaion for the angel, it was - death.
Crowley's hand moved to Aziraphale's chest, and he felt the faint, unsteady beating of his heart. It was so quiet Crowley could barely even tell it was there. The demon held his breath, praying for the sound not to stop.
"Please, Angel, breathe!" Crowley pleaded, looking down at the chains which covered his angel. Crowley growled at them, taking them in his hand, and willing them to break. He moved his hand back to Aziraphale's chest, trying to use his demonic abilities to take the hellfire out of the angel's body. An orange glow radiated off of Aziraphale's chest, and the chains snapped.
"Oh, please, Aziraphale, God help you...please..."Crowley hadn't realised the words came out of his mouth. Demons didn't pray.
"God, please, save him, please..."
Crowley's eyes flooded with tears. There was no one in Heaven for him. No one to answer his prayers. At that moment, Heaven had never seemed further away. All the stars he'd ever seen were gone. Crowley's crying was drowned out by the roar of the flames.
Someone save him...
Aziraphale choked, and gave a spluttering cough before his chest began heaving. Crowley let out a sound he never wanted the world to hear him make, a sound of relief and worry all at the same time.
"Angel!" he cried, "Aziraphale..."
Aziraphale's eyes blinked open and his pale blue gaze met Crowley's. The demon's arms were wrapped around the angel, holding his head up. Aziraphale cried out in pain, wincing at his burns.
"C-Crowley..."
"Hush, Angel, it's okay. You're going to be fine, it's all okay..."
"Crowley..." Aziraphale choked out, "The chains... why... how...?"
"You're free," Crowley breathed, completely ignoring Aziraphale's words, "Free. It's okay now, Aziraphale. Everything is okay."
Crowley let a broken smile show, and his cracked expression showed his tears. He felt a smile tug at his lips, mouthing the word; 'free'.
"We're free," he repeated, "You're safe."
Aziraphale tried to move, but Crowley kept him from doing so. The demon pulled the angel close to his chest, placing a kiss on the top of his head, running his hand through Aziraphale's soft blond curls. Crowley felt more tears fall from his eyes as he looked to the sky, a cloudy mess. Heaven, from what Crowley could see, was so far hidden that no soul would ever reach there. So far away none of his prayers would ever be heard.
But God had heard him.
"T-thank you, God," Crowley's voice shook with happiness, "Thank you so, so much. I-I don't know what I would have done... I couldn't... I... Thank you."
"...Crowley..." Aziraphale mumbled, his voice filled with pain and his eyes watering, "What... You... you prayed to Her."
Crowley nodded, sniffing as he buried his face in the angel's ash covered jacket.
"I asked Her to save you. I asked for help. I begged, Angel. I knelt on the floor and cried, begging Her, begging anyone for help."
"I'm sorry, my dear..." Aziraphale whispered, closing his eyes. Crowley kissed him again, the feeling making flames dance in his heart.
The good kind of fire.
"Me too. I'm so, so sorry, Angel. Y-you were gone for months. I was s-sure I would never see you again, and... and... it broke something I wasn't sure I had. It broke my heart." his voice cracked as he went on, "And... I... I'm not sure if you know, if you really know..." Crowley took Aziraphale's hand and placed it over the demon's heart, "That I love you."
Crowley didn't know if Aziraphale believed him, and he didn't even know if he believed himself. He was a demon, after all. He shouldn't be capable of love at all. But... when he looked at Aziraphale, when he saw him smile... he knew he loved him. And when he thought Aziraphale was gone... In the bookshop fire, and now... Crowley knew he loved him. They say forever is a long time. He didn't think it was long enough. It would seem like even forever isn't eternal. But love? Crowley was no expert - actually more of what you would consider the opposite of that - but he thought it lasted forever. Or, at least, his love did. He knew he couldn't offer his angel much... but he would do anything for him. He promised that to Aziraphale. He promised the angel forever, because he loved him.
And that would never be changed. Not by war, not by Heaven, not by Hell.
"Let's get you home," Crowley said softly, "You won't feel a thing, my Angel."
He cradled Aziraphale to his chest, careful to avoid brushing against his burns. Crowley snapped his fingers, thinking of his flat. He had a bed - the bookshop didn't.
There was a blink, not of light, but of darkness, and they reappeared on the dark floors of Crowley's flat. The blinds were still closed, and everything was how he'd left it. He picked up the blond angel and laid him down on the bed, the silk black sheets tightly made.
"...Oww..." Aziraphale groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. Crowley winced at how much pain his angel was in. He moved his fingertips across Aziraphale's forehead, calming him down.
"I'm going to do my best to heal you." Crowley promised. Aziraphale made a muffled sound, nodding slightly. His burns were blistered and oozing puss. Crowley knew how much pain Aziraphale was in at that moment, and seemed to want to try as hard as possible to make it better. Crowley snapped his fingers, making his healing supplies appear in front of him. He still had the bandages from when he'd walked through the church during the war, and from when he'd knelt on the consecrated ground last week. He opened the cap of the cream, and placed the tube down on the bed. Crowley held his hands out, closing his eyes after examining the burns. He pictured all the hellfire, all the pain that Aziraphale had. Then he pictured all the grief and all the crying he'd done when he'd thought Aziraphale was gone. He spread his magic over Aziraphale's burns, gently soothing them. Then he grabbed the creams, knowing magic wasn't enough, and rubbed the ointment onto the affected areas. He wrapped the angel's burns in bandages, and snapped his fingers again, making all the supplies disappear.
"There." Crowley said, "It'll be better soon, Angel."
His voice was filled with a tender sort of love as the demon smiled faintly at the angel lying on his bed. Aziraphale's eyes were closed, but his face relaxed as sleep tugged at him.
"...Thank you... Crowley..." the angel whispered, a smile blinking across his face.
"Ngk," the demon said sheepishly, standing up moving towards the door.
"...Crowley, wait... Come... here."
Crowley blinked, but didn't disobey. He stood next to the bed, his eyes wide. Crowley didn't know at the time, but his pupils gradually got larger.
"No, Crowley, come closer." Aziraphale said, slowly trying to sit up. The angel grunted, and Crowley sat down. The demon expected some sort of serious, uncomfortable talk, or something he definitely didn't want to stick around for.
He didn't expect the angel to hug him.
The demon didn't protest as Aziraphale's hand stroked his red hair and pulled Crowley closer, until his head was on the angel's shoulder. Aziraphale slid back into the bed, closing his eyes and taking Crowley's hand.
"I want you to stay with me, my dear."
Crowley's heart did three flips, and he was sure his cheeks were very red and flustered. He laid down with Aziraphale, wrapping his arms around the blond angel. He breathed in his sweet scent, curling up next to him.
"...I love you, Crowley." the angel told him, and the demon's heart melted.
"Love you too, Angel." Crowley mumbled. He too closed his eyes, savouring the moment. Crowley had never felt the way he did at that second. He felt like crying, smiling, laughing and sleeping all at the same time. His waterfall of emotions came crashing down on him, and for a heartbeat, everything was okay. His angel was safe, and he loved him.
He still didn't know what went down that day. He didn't care. He opened one eye, and glanced out the window towards the sky. Aziraphale's breathing slowed, and he slipped into a deep sleep.
It was said that demons were incapable of love.
Yet, somewhere in London, a demon from Hell unfolded his dark wings and wrapped them around an angel of Heaven. That demon vowed to protect the angel, for he never wanted to lose his best friend again.
It had taken a miracle to save both of them. To save their love for each other. A miracle that hadn't been performed by either of them. A miracle that the ring of the angel had been saved from the hellfire.
From a place that had once seemed very far away to Crowley, sunshine peeked through the darkest storm clouds and shone through the horrors of the war.
Up above, God smiled down on them.