Aziraphale was carefully organizing his bookshop, making sure all his books were in order. Suddenly - despite his closed sign being up on his door - there was a knock at his door. He went to the door, expecting to see Crowley as they were usually the only one to try and visit him this late in the day. As he went to open the door, he was met with Gabriel and Michael. "Oh- Hello Michael and Gabriel, what can I do for you?" Aziraphale asked, letting the two in and closing the door behind them.
"We have a deal to propose to you," Gabriel stated, sitting down on one of Aziraphale's reading chairs.
"Oh? And what might that be?" Aziraphale questioned, a bit unsure of what the archangels would have in store for him, sitting across from Gabriel.
"Well, it's no secret you and... Crowley are close," Gabriel grimaced at Crowley's name, acting as if it was a curse to God. Aziraphale was starting to get worried, what did the archangels want to do with Crowley?
"If you can prove your relationship with him is strong, we'll leave the two of you be, and so will Hell." Michael continued, folding her hands in her lap. Aziraphale was surprised but eager, if he could live without worrying about either side coming to harass them, maybe, just maybe he'd be able to tell Crowley his feelings. Gabriel's eyes narrowed as he noticed Aziraphale's excitement and cleared his throat.
"This deal will entail that you cut all contact with Crowley for 600 years. You can't tell him-"
"Or anybody for that matter," Michael cut in and Gabriel shot her a glare.
"Or anybody, yes, why you stopped talking to him. If you can manage that, we'll leave the both of you alone." Aziraphale felt his heart drop. How could he survive 600 years without Crowley? They'd been together from the start, it's been their side for as long as he could remember. But... 600 years for the rest of their lives? It was a short blip in comparison, only a tenth of their life so far... Aziraphale thought for a long moment, troubled before Michael spoke up once more.
"Also, if you are to agree to this deal and fail in any capacity, if someone finds out why and the info reaches Crowley or you return to him, well, to put it simply, it wont go as well as the first time he received holy water." Aziraphale's heart nearly stopped.
They would KILL Crowley if he failed?!
They'd go that far?
Aziraphale felt his heart race. Was this really worth it? Could he manage going through it? He had too. 600 years to the rest of their lives was nothing. His only worry was how Crowley would react after everything. He took a breath, he was sure Crowley would understand once he explained everything. He looked back up at Gabriel and Michael, "So?" Gabriel inquired, leaning forward a bit.
"Yes I.. I'll take the deal.." Aziraphale said, his voice wavering slightly as he did so. Gabriel and Michael smirked and nodded.
"Good luck then Az-"
"Remember don't tell anyone if you want your precious Crowley to survive this," Michael interjected and Gabriel scowled, glaring at her as they made their way out. Aziraphale just sat there for a long moment. He couldn't believe he just agreed to this. But he couldn't back out now, not if he wanted to protect Crowley. He took a long, deep breath and grabbed his phone. He stared at Crowley's contact, hesitantly opening it. His hands trembled as he texted them; 'Come to the bookshop, we need to talk about something.' and set his phone down. He paced back and forth a bit as he waited for Crowley to arrive. This was the last time he'd talk to them, actually have a conversation with them. He shook his head, not the time to think about that.
After a few minutes, he heard the door open, revealing a worried Crowley, "Angel? What's going on?" They asked, quickly crossing the bookshop floor, reaching Aziraphale in a few seconds.
Aziraphale felt his heart break as he took a deep breath, "We... We're not friends anymore. I just wanted to tell you face to face. Goodbye Crowley." He blurted, struggling to keep his voice steady. Crowley paused for a long moment, Aziraphale's words slowly sinking in.
"Aziraphale.. Why..?" Crowley's voice trembled as they asked, grabbing Aziraphale's hand, in which he quickly pulled away, turning from Crowley, unable to look them in the face, nor did he want Crowley to see his quickly forming tears.
"It doesn't matter. We're hereditary enemies, good and bad. We don't mix. You need to leave now." Aziraphale forced out, lying to himself and Crowley and he couldn't tell which hurt more. Crowley stood there shocked for a moment before scowling and turning away from Aziraphale.
"Fine then. Have it your way angel." They growled and stormed out, their sunglasses the only thing hiding their tears. As soon as the door to the bookshop shut, Aziraphale let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, his tears quickly spilling from his eyes. He shut all his blinds and just sat at his desk, his tears dotting the wood.
Crowley slammed the door to their Bentley shut and just sat there for a long moment, their tears welling up under their sunglasses. They shouted profanities as they started to drive, speeding off towards their apartment. They turned on the radio and as it started to play 'Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy' they immediately shut it off. The first thing they did as they got inside their apartment was grab a bottle of whiskey - thinking it more appropriate for the situation than a bottle of wine - and drinking straight from the bottle instead of pouring it into a glass like they usually would've.
They cried as they drank, looking through old photos of them and Aziraphale, wondering where the hell they went wrong. They knew Aziraphale was bull shitting when he 'explained' why, if that was even an explanation in the first place. Their demonic vs angelic nature had never been an issue, why would it be one now?
Crowley drank until there were multiple empty whiskey bottles dotting their apartment, the only liquid in them now were a few of Crowley's tears as they made their way to their room and let themself fall onto their bed, a half-finished bottle of whiskey clutched in their right hand, spilling a bit onto their sheets before they drank the rest of it, their tears long ago having dried without any water left in their body to cry as they slowly drifted off to sleep, their dreams to be filled with them and Aziraphale.
Meanwhile in the bookshop Aziraphale was laying in his bed, curled up around a pillow and sobbing into it. He didn't sleep that night, crying until his eyes dried and became heavy from exhaustion and he just silently laid there, staring blankly at his wall, regretting his decision. But he had sealed their fates for the next 600 years and maybe more and now he had to deal with the guilt of that choice, of knowing Crowley was hurt because of his actions, of knowing that Crowley had most definitely been crying under their sunglasses because of his actions, that if the two of them couldn't recover after the 600 years, it'd be all his fault. Aziraphale didn't get even a wink of sleep.
The sun rose the next morning, assaulting Aziraphale's dry and red eyes, exhausted from crying for so long and being open all of the night before. He stayed in bed for a long time, just staring at the sun before finally sitting up, a hollow feeling filling him, weighing him down as he slowly shuffled out of bed. He didn't bother making breakfast or eating anything for breakfast, it's not like he needed to anyway and he didn't have the energy to do so anyway. He didn't even have the energy to read.
He just scribbled out a new sign for his door that read; 'Closed until further notice' and hung it on his door before closing the blinds on the door and sinking into his chair at his desk, contemplating everything. His heart hurt and it felt like it would kill him soon. He felt hollow but also like a 50 pound weight had been placed in his stomach, weighing him down.
In Crowley's apartment, they didn't wake up until late in the afternoon, their head pounding from how much they drank last night. They had a moment of peace as their eyes cracked open before everything that had transpired the night before crashed into them like a tidal wave. In a fit of rage they chucked the bottle of whiskey that had miraculously stayed in their hand all night long at the wall in front of them , denting the wall and shattering the bottle, the shards of glass littering their floor.
They groaned, knowing they'd have to clean that up before they hurt himself on it. Sure they were practically immortal in most cases but it'd still hurt like a bitch if they stepped on the glass. Not as much as Aziraphale leaving them without the decency to tell them the real reason he did, but it would still hurt nonetheless. As they cleaned up, their emotions were like a whirlwind inside of them, and none were good, anger, regret, sadness, guilt, and pain to name a few. As soon as they finished cleaning their floor they went out to the liquor shop and bought a lot more bottles of whiskey and a few other stronger drinks, knowing full well they'd barely last the week.
The next weeks passed in much the same fashion, Aziraphale stayed in his bookshop, isolated and alone, crying most the time, neglecting his books as they started to collect dust, if he ever ate he'd end up not doing the dishes so they started to pile up as did the garbage meanwhile Crowley obsessively cleaned their apartment, trying to ignore what they felt or tried to drink it away. One week their entire apartment would be a wreck, trash piling up, bottles everywhere and then the next it'd be spotless and cleaned to a Tee.