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Aziraphale had made a terrible mistake.
Regret burned his throat and ached inside his head even in his heavenly body. The words he had said in that discussion with Crowley were fuzzy and unclear in his memories, but everything Crowley had said was captured into his mind like a permanent burn mark. Aziraphale knew he had said some horrible things, some he had even truly believed in the back of his mind, but the few months, or however long it had been in Earth’s time, had helped clear his head. They’re toxic. The memory of Crowley looking back at him in betrayal was the worst he had.
Everyone had been acting nice to him, unnaturally so. It felt insincere, since Aziraphale’s one and only true friend has always been anything else than nice to him. He had been rude, insulting, impatient, mocking, supportive, kind, apologetic, and loving, but never could Crowley be described as nice.
The angels were nothing of those other things. They were just nice to him.
Aziraphale hated it.
Most of all he hated their plans for the Second Coming.
It was nothing but war, destruction, plague, natural disasters, and death. Aziraphale could remember attending one of such meetings before, the kind where no one else cared.
Crowley had always cared. Even now Aziraphale could remember the baa’s of the goats in Job's yard.
If the true believers would get new lives and riches in the world after the Second Coming, it would never be the same. Every one of them would be traumatised beyond belief, everyone would lose someone they loved, everyone would suffer the events before. New goats and new children couldn’t replace all they had lost in the process.
How could that be God’s plan? More importantly, how could Aziraphale ever live with himself if he was part of it?
Michael was speaking, when Aziraphale had enough.
“No,” Aziraphale said. Everyone else stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him.
“Excuse me?” Metatron asked.
“I don’t agree with your plans. I don’t want to be part of them,” Aziraphale said, standing firm in his position. It was as if a new fire had been lit inside of him. He wasn’t going to become a demon, there was no hatred and malice in his heart belonging to Hell, but neither was there the holy anger and similar malice to do all those things for the good side. When Heaven ends life here on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it.
Finally, Aziraphale understood.
“Thank you for the opportunity,” Aziraphale said. “I will take my leave now.”
“Aziraphale, if you leave now, we will be forced to reconsider your punishment on the Gabriel issue,” Metatron warned. “It would be a shame to have to erase your name from the Book of Life.”
A smile rose on Aziraphale’s face.
“I’m sure it would,” Aziraphale responded. “Tell me, have you fully considered the implications of that?”
“Of course, we have!” Metatron straightened his back. “What could there be to consider?”
“Have you? Not to toot my own Heavenly trumpet, but I have been among humans from the Beginning, and have had my hand on quite a many human events. You have been making your plans based on the world as it is today, but what if my contribution to it has been more than you predict?”
“I…” Metatron fell silent. “One angel can’t have changed that many things.”
“Oh dear,” Aziraphale smiled, a smile Crowley would have been proud of. “Couldn’t I have? I think you need to recheck your records.”
Metatron remained silent and was staring at Aziraphale with a serious expression.
“How would humanity be today if I hadn’t given Adam a flaming sword? Would Adam and Eve have survived that first night? Would there even be humanity?” Aziraphale asked. “If I hadn’t stopped Hell-ish plans every step of the way for the entire history of humankind, would things be different? If I hadn’t cooperated with Crowley, would they then?”
Now Metatron’s expression was one of reverence, and Aziraphale could see even a little hint of fear.
“If I hadn’t stopped Apocalypse with Crowley the last time, would you already lay dead on a bloody battleground of angels and demons? All this also applies to Crowley too, although I expect he did quite a bit more creating before the beginning than I did, never mind the business with the fruit tree in the garden,” Aziraphale said, speaking calmly and keeping a confident smile on his face. “You are, of course, free to do what you will. It is your choice whether you want to take the chances. It’s up to you to decide if we were always part of the ineffable plan after all.”
From Metatron’s look, Aziraphale knew he had hit the nail on the head.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I have an appointment. I'm already a few months late to attend.”
Aziraphale turned on his heels and on his way towards the elevator, changed his official-looking light-grey business suit into his familiar, comfortable tan and khaki clothes. There was no one following him as he stepped into the elevator.
Even though the emotions of confronting Metatron thrummed under his skin, he felt calmer than he ever had. The worst they could do to him was to erase him, and he would never have known the pain he had felt leaving Crowley and for these last months. Crowley wouldn’t have to mourn because they would never have known each other. He preferred existing of course, but if he never did… how would he know? If he could exist for long enough to get to Crowley and tell him how he felt, maybe do a very long version of the apology dance, it would all be worth it. Or maybe, maybe he had managed to convince Metatron of the inadvisability of making his threats true.
So many years Aziraphale had spent hating himself for having doubts, for not being the perfect example of an angel, for not following orders as they were, but now… Now he was at peace with who he was. Heaven and Hell didn’t matter, neither had any rule over him. He knew his own worth now. If only he could have Crowley forgive him and be part of the couple they had always been, he didn’t need to be a part of Team Heaven.
The elevator pinged and let him out on the busy street in London. Aziraphale’s heart was full of joy to see the street filled with familiar shops. His own bookshop was waiting for him lit by the bright sunlight which looked more beautiful than any light in Heaven ever had.
On the other side of London, Crowley was driving aimlessly when the Bentley stopped in the middle of a street.
“What…?” Crowley frowned. “What are you doing?”
The Bentley didn’t react to Crowley’s steering or him stepping on the pedals even though the motor was still running. There were people honking horns behind him, but the Bentley didn’t seem to mind it had just gone from speeding 90 mph to full stop in a few seconds, causing a traffic jam. Then the car twitched forwards, without Crowley’s help, and did a U-turn in the middle of the traffic, leading itself on the opposite lane.
“Hey, where are you going?” Crowley said to the Bentley which picked up speed and started making twists and turns to take him wherever it wanted.
Crowley had a suspicion he knew where it was taking him. He considered throwing himself out on the sidewalk from the moving car and let the Bentley go on its own, because their destination scared him more than having to watch only the Sound of Music for the rest of eternity would. Where was the tub full of holy water to drown himself in when he needed it?
As he had suspected, the Bentley turned a corner onto a familiar street and parked itself in front of the bookshop. At the same time, across the street a door opened into an elevator and the painfully, achingly familiar shape of his angel walked out.
Damn it, even his car loved Aziraphale as much as he did. Somehow it had known the angel would be here.
Maybe Crowley had never fully appreciated the beauty of Aziraphale or maybe he was radiating some new power, but Crowley couldn’t take his eyes from him. Even when his heart threatened to jump into his throat, making Crowley think he was about to spontaneously discorporate, he didn’t turn his gaze away.
Aziraphale seemed to perk up and straightened his back, looking around himself and met Crowley’s gaze.
When Aziraphale saw the Bentley parked in front of his shop, his heart picked up speed. He considered doing something flashy and grand to apologise for his actions, but even though Crowley could be showy and dramatic with his gestures, Aziraphale knew that deep down they both preferred having intimate conversations in private.
He just stood on the street and looked back without knowing how to proceed.
The Bentley’s doors opened, all at once, and it looked to Aziraphale as if it had tipped to a side to push Crowley out. Crowley landed on his feet on the sidewalk, probably with the help of a small miracle, and looked away from Aziraphale to glare at the car.
“Yeah yeah, alright,” he said, and all the car doors closed again. Crowley hesitated on the sidewalk before walking towards the bookshop door. Aziraphale followed.
“Muriel!” Crowley yelled into the shop after opening the door. “Go get a coffee. Take your book with you.”
“But I am in a good part,” Muriel said brightly, appearing from behind a shelf with a book in their hand. “There has just been a development…”
Aziraphale walked to stand next to Crowley in front of the shop. He didn’t dare to look at the demon, but kept his eyes on Muriel, giving them a little wave as a greeting and trying to see if anything had been changed in the shop.
“Oh hello!” Muriel said brightly. “You’re back.”
“Indeed,” Crowley said. “Please.”
“Right,” Muriel said, picking up the tension. Then another wide smile appeared on their face. “Private conversation. Got it.”
Then they were squeezing between Crowley and Aziraphale and bouncing down the street towards Nina’s café.
“They will tell everyone you’re back. If you really are back?” Crowley said and moved to push the door wide open at the same time as Aziraphale was pulling it. Their fingers brushed together and Aziraphale marvelled at the small touch. Crowley shuddered but didn’t pull away.
“After you,” Aziraphale said quietly, and Crowley walked in. He sat down in a chair, seemingly relaxed, and crossed his arms. He still hadn’t removed his shades.
Aziraphale looked around the shop. It looked almost exactly as he had left it. Someone had taken diligent care of it, and Aziraphale suspected Crowley had something to do with its good condition. Always taking care of him, even when Aziraphale had betrayed him in an unforgivable way. When Aziraphale turned to look at Crowley, Crowley met his eyes and raised his eyebrows.
“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said. He breathed deeply and did the now familiar little dance. “You were right, you were right, I was wrong, you were right.”
Crowley’s eyebrows rose, if possible, even higher, and he took off his shades.
“You did the dance without asking,” Crowley said, calmly.
“It’s not enough. Any dance won’t redeem what I did,” Aziraphale said. “I was a fool to believe Metatron. You were right.”
Crowley didn’t comment on it but kept his gaze locked on Aziraphale.
“I know I was rude and patronising to you, and I cannot apologise enough for the things I said. I don’t think any of that anymore. I used to, but I don’t now. It’s not an excuse but Metatron… did something. It felt like I was in a hazy dream, and I couldn’t face what you were telling me. I’m so sorry, Crowley. For everything,” Aziraphale finished and tried to not feel like he was receiving a judgement from God herself. He had said his piece, and now it was up to Crowley to either forgive him or not.
“Angel…” Crowley said, falling quiet again after one word, and Aziraphale enjoyed the little leap his heart made when Crowley called him that.
“In case the, mmm, group of the two of us option is still available, I’m interested in it,” Aziraphale added quietly. “If you can forgive me at all. If you still want it?”
“What changed your mind?” Crowley asked instead of answering. “Why did you come back?”
“Their plans… They were horrible. They were going to kill everyone. Not just a war between angels and demons, but every human too. All the children, all the animals, everyone we know and don’t. And it was… ugly. They had no mercy for anyone or worry over how people would suffer,” Aziraphale said. “And when I was listening, I remembered Job’s goats.”
Crowley blinked at him.
“Did you now?”
“I knew then I had been wrong. I don’t agree with running away, but I would rather face the upcoming events on your side than on theirs,” Aziraphale said. “Forgive me, my love. Please, forgive me.”
Aziraphale kneeled next to Crowley’s chair and reached to take Crowley’s hand between his. To his surprise Crowley didn’t pull away.
“You left me,” he answered. “You ignored everything we have been through together. Never do that again, angel.”
“No, I think I’ve learned my lesson,” Aziraphale agreed. “But my dear, we cannot leave and abandon everyone to another Apocalypse either.”
“Why is that our responsibility?” Crowley asked, frowning.
“Because it always has been. We have always looked after them. You and I are possibly the only ones who care about them upstairs or downstairs,” Aziraphale said softly. “You once said I don’t have a side anymore. That you and I are our own side. I must disagree with you, my dear. You and I have always been on their side. The humans and this world are our side too.”
Crowley groaned.
“Fine. No Alpha Centauri,” Crowley said and breathed deeply. “I forgive you, angel.”
It was spoken in a softer tone than Aziraphale had all those months ago. He felt like apologising all over again for his mean words, but he knew Crowley would soon grow annoyed with him if he kept individually asking forgiveness for every single thing he had done wrong. He would find a way to make it better somehow.
“Thank you,” Aziraphale said. “How about… the other question?”
“We can discuss it after brunch at the Ritz,” Crowley suggested. “If I can tempt you to join me.”
Aziraphale smiled.
“Temptation accomplished.”
“How do you still…” Crowley waved his hand in front of Aziraphale. “Exist? Your lot threatened to erase you from history.”
“Ah,” Aziraphale said, sipping on his champagne. “I warned Metatron that erasing me, or you for that matter, from history could have unpredictable consequences. You and I have had our hands on some important events in the last 6000 years.”
Crowley raised his eyebrows and was impressed by the boldness of his angel. It wasn’t the first time he had been impressed with Aziraphale, the angel knew just what strings to pull sometimes, but Aziraphale standing up for himself made Crowley feel oddly proud. There was hope that the angel really had made his choice and stopped defending those bastards upstairs.
“He hadn’t thought of that, huh?” Crowley said, raising his glass and clicking it against Aziraphale’s. “Not bad.”
“I have been meaning to ask you,” Aziraphale said, wiping his mouth. “Would you like to continue living in your car or would you rather move in with me? In our shop?”
Our shop. Crowley had a physical reaction to that, and he put his glass on the table to avoid spilling it.
“It’s your shop. I don’t want to intrude,” Crowley said.
“My dear, you already spend most of the days there. I want you there. I think of it as our shop, no matter what you say, and I would like you to move in unless you have some objections to the idea of living with me,” Aziraphale said.
“No objections,” Crowley said.
“Good! You can move your plants there today. I believe your car already found a parking spot nearby.”
“I thought it was our car?” Crowley said.
“The yellow wheel covers are new,” Aziraphale said, smiling, making Crowley groan loudly.
“I can’t help it if my car loves you more than me. I have no idea what you did to it in Edinburgh, but it drove me to the shop today without any help from me,” Crowley grumbled. “I guess it had been missing you.”
As had I, remained unsaid in the air between them. Aziraphale put his hand on Crowley’s arm.
“I’m here now,” he said. Crowley just nodded.
Crowley wasn’t going to be the one to bring up them for a second time. His heart still hadn’t recovered from being trampled by Aziraphale, and even though his angel was now giving him strong hints that he’d like to go back to that discussion, Crowley wasn’t ready to start it.
Getting rejected for a second time would break him.
Despite the remaining tension between them, Crowley had moved his plants into the bookshop and found the Bentley a permanent parking space on the street. They had been talking about Heaven’s plans and Crowley had poked into his Hell contacts to see what they were preparing. Apparently, there was a lot going on downstairs too.
How in someone’s name they could stop the apocalypse from happening again, Crowley had no idea, but otherwise life was… good. It felt good to have a nap and find Aziraphale reading quietly on the other side of the room when he woke up. It felt good to laugh at something unintentionally funny Aziraphale had said. It felt good to share a bottle or two of wine in the evening. It felt good to have his best friend back.
And yet.
Nina and Maggie had been absolutely delighted to see Aziraphale again, and Nina had been giving Crowley some nudges to get a move on, but Crowley didn’t.
Even though seeing Aziraphale give him one of those looks made his insides ache, it was too good right now to shake the boat further. He didn’t want to risk driving Aziraphale away or moving too fast for him again.
“How is it going between you two?” Maggie asked Aziraphale while handing him some records that Aziraphale would gladly count as rent again.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Aziraphale said, keeping his eyes on the records and pretending to read the labels. “I and who?”
“Don’t pretend. You and your… you know, Crowley. I know you two had a bit of a falling out, but you’ve made up, right? Talked about it properly? Isn’t he living with you now?” Maggie pushed.
“Umm, yes. He is,” Aziraphale answered awkwardly. “We’ve talked plenty.”
“Right? And you have resolved all the issues in your communication?”
“What issues?” Aziraphale asked. Maggie sighed deeply.
“That’s a no then. Look, I’m not going to push my nose into things that are none of my business, but if you have something to say to him, you should just say it. If you’re both waiting for the other one to start the conversation, you’ll be waiting until the end of the world,” Maggie said.
“Not for that long then,” Aziraphale muttered. “Yes, before I, uh, went away for a while, we had an argument. And I apologised for what I did. He expressed an interest to move our relationship on a new level, but we haven’t talked about it since. I don’t think he wants to talk about it.”
“Or maybe he just doesn’t want to get rejected? You ever think about that, hmm? Have you even expressed your interest back to him?”
“Well, no, not in so many words, but he should already know,” Aziraphale said.
“How? How could he possibly know? Wait, you can’t read minds, can you?” Maggie asked.
“No! Of course not!” Aziraphale said. “I… Thank you for the records. I think I have some things to do now.”
“I bet you do,” Maggie said. “Good luck.”
Aziraphale walked past the coffee shop and saw Muriel sitting at a table with a teacup on the table and an open book in their hand. He waved his hand to Nina and pushed his way to Muriel who looked up and smiled.
“Hello!”
“Hello,” Aziraphale said hastily. “How much of your book do you have left?”
“I just started a new one,” Muriel said and showed it to him. “Mr. Crowley gave me a break and promised to look after the bookshop.”
“Could you… could you keep yourself busy with it for a while? I would like to have another discussion with Crowley,” Aziraphale asked.
“Sure! I like to spend time in the coffee shop,” Muriel nodded.
“Thank you. Enjoy your book,” Aziraphale said and gave Nina an apologetic smile when he left the café. Nina looked at him thoughtfully and waved her hand.
When Aziraphale walked into the book shop, he found Crowley talking to his plants and spraying them with water. His shades were on the statue where Crowley always put them when he was in the bookshop. It was such a domestic sight that it made Aziraphale stop in his tracks. With shaking hands, he put the records on an already full table and locked the door.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale began and was momentarily lost on what to say. “I think we need to talk.”
“Sounds ominous. Am I in trouble?” Crowley asked and looked at him. He put his spray bottle next to one of the plants. “I can move back into the car if…”
“No,” Aziraphale interrupted. “I want you to stay. In fact, I… I have something I should have said a long time ago.”
Crowley gave him a questioning look but remained silent.
“I would like to apologise again for the day I left,” Aziraphale said.
“Damn it, you don’t have to. It’s forgiven and forgotten,” Crowley shrugged him off, sounding annoyed. Maybe he didn’t like looking back to that day any more than Aziraphale did.
“I know. However, I only apologised for what I did and said. I didn’t yet for not listening to what you were going to tell me,” Aziraphale said with his head held high and keeping his eyes on Crowley. He wanted Crowley to know he meant it. “You deserved more than my dismissal. I would like to continue that conversation from my own point of view now.”
“Oh, right,” Crowley seemed to freeze in place. Although he remained otherwise expressionless, there was a slight tightening around his jaw that told Aziraphale he was concerned.
“You are my closest friend and the most important person to me. I don’t think I’ve ever said how much you mean to me. All those years I kept on insisting that we aren’t friends, because how could an angel and a demon be friends? I know now that I was wrong,” Aziraphale said. Crowley kept his eyes directed at him.
No matter how many books Aziraphale had read over the years, he had no vocabulary to describe the emotions he had for Crowley. The human words of sentiment didn’t come even close to fully capturing how much he cared for Crowley. How much he wanted to stay with Crowley for the rest of his existence, however long it should be.
Maybe he should have quoted Mr. Darcy or Captain Wentworth. Unless Crowley had read Jane Austen since the last time, he wouldn’t know any better. Instead of going for Austen, he quoted the most brilliant person he had ever met.
“To quote your words, I’d like it if we could be us,” Aziraphale said.
“What are you suggesting?” Crowley said and looked right into Aziraphale’s eyes. “Not running off into the stars like Beelzebub and Gabriel, I guess?”
“Indeed not. I would like us to be us right where we are. I think I’d like what Gabriel and Beelzebub share, but I don’t want to run away,” Aziraphale said. “Gabriel said something to me when he stayed here. How even when you don't know anything at all, you're certain everything would be better if you were just near one particular person. I… You’re that person for me.”
Crowley felt everything was going to fall apart around them any moment now. Things always did. There was no way it was his angel in front of him saying those things.
“I love you,” Aziraphale added to everything he had already said. He had a hopeful, expectant expression that made it hard for Crowley to refuse anything from him. Still out of principle he argued.
“You’re an angel. You are supposed to love everyone,” Crowley said, seriously. Aziraphale snorted.
“You say that as if you have never met another angel,” Aziraphale pointed out. “Loving isn’t a word I’d use for most angels.”
“Maybe not. But I’d use it for you. You love everyone. You love ducks in the park, and good wine, and the bookshop. You love all the shopkeepers and children on the streets and whatnot,” Crowley said. What makes me different?
“However, I’m in love with you,” the angel said. “Not like I love books or sushi. Not even how I love humans. I’m in love with you.”
Maybe Crowley just imagined things because he wanted to believe in good things so much, but he thought he saw Aziraphale’s gaze flip down to his lips for a second. That reminded him of their first disastrous kiss.
“Uh, while we’re on the subject, I should mention I’m sorry for the… you know, the kiss. It was rude of me to do that without asking you,” Crowley said awkwardly.
“That’s alright. Forgiven,” Aziraphale said. “Would you mind trying again?”
“Trying what?” Crowley asked, but Aziraphale had walked close to him and pressed one of his hands against Crowley’s chest, on top of his heart, and one on his shoulder.
“Crowley, I’m going to kiss you now if it’s alright with you,” the angel said, smiling happily.
Crowley leaned down and captured Aziraphale’s lips in a much more pleasant kiss than the earlier one had been. Aziraphale was warm, soft, and pliant against him and was kissing back with more passion than Crowley had expected from his purehearted angel. Well, they had both been there through all of it, so maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise that Aziraphale had picked up a thing or two, but it was a revelation.
It was good.
“I love you,” Aziraphale whispered against his lips when they parted.
“Yeah yeah yeah,” Crowley muttered. “Me too. Let’s not get sappy.”
“Better than Jane Austen in my opinion,” Aziraphale said, surprising a laugh out of Crowley.
“Definitely better than Richard Curtis movies,” he agreed.
Aziraphale reached to kiss him again, and the discussion was put on hold for the time being.
“I had a revelation during my months in Heaven,” Aziraphale said.
“Do tell,” Crowley mumbled against his collarbone.
“If we don’t know the ineffable plan, if no one does, we are free to do what we feel is right. Whatever we want. Everything we do was always meant to happen anyway, and it’s included in the plan,” Aziraphale said, staring at the ceiling. “Maybe all the mistakes we have made were always meant to happen. Maybe us was always meant to be too.”
Crowley crossed his arms on Aziraphale’s chest and looked at him.
“Doesn’t that absolve us from all guilt? From responsibility,” Crowley asked. “I guess that means we could fuck off to Alpha Centauri anyway.”
“I don’t think so. Our choices aren’t made for us. It’s more complicated than that. No one is here just as a pawn in a cosmic game. We can still hurt each other with our actions and do things that cause destruction, but the big picture remains the same. We only need to live in a way that we can live with ourselves. That we know we tried our best. Everyone else must too,” Aziraphale said and looked at Crowley. “I don’t want to let them get through with their plans.”
“Yeah,” Crowley sighed. “I suppose I’ll be there to look after you.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
Nothing lasts forever, but for now it felt good to lay down with Crowley, not worrying what tomorrow would bring.
-fin-